Mimic
Timeframe
Brown and Jones have an interesting, albeit strange, proposal for the exiled Agent Smith. But what of the cost of entering the real world to assassinate Neo?
=======
The city of humans was in a turmoil that simmered beneath the surface. Things were quiet, but one could perceive tension wherever any of the military were gathered. Smith found himself within the shadows of such a place. Psyche had brought him here because, as she put it, he was her responsibility and he would do his part to repay her kindness. Not entirely amused, but certainly curious, Smith had agreed to come along. That had, perhaps, been a mistake. He had not realized she would be bringing him into the lion's den. Here within this hall of meeting were assorted rebels, both those he recognized and those he did not. There were only two faces he cared to see, both of which were absent. Anderson and Bane. He stood near the back of the room, off to the side, hoping that with Steel here at his side he would more or less go undetected, for if anyone that had personally battled him back in his former days of policing the Matrix, his mission would end here and now.
Still, he was not without the sense to take calculating measures. Safe within his pocket lay the knife he planned on using against Anderson. If he arrived, and Smith did not doubt he would deny his right to interrupt whatever business was taking place this morning, and if the situation became acute, he would attempt to finish the job here and now.
These thoughts prompted him to gaze in the direction of perhaps his most dangerous adversary aside from Anderson himself. Her dark hair was tucked behind her ears, her face was pale and troubled, her arms folded together within the blue fabric of her shirt. Trinity looked very different in this way. She was no longer the harsh slip of black darting away through the shadows. She looked almost fragile, trying to hide her emotions and yet displaying them at the same time. Whatever had happened must have been quite bothersome indeed.
"You'll not get anywhere with that one," Steel suggested, following his sight.
Annoyed, Smith tore his eyes away from her and glared at the young medic. "I was not thinking of trying," he countered sharply.
The young man shook his head with a grin. "Right. At any rate, she belongs to that fake, Neo."
His attitude towards Anderson was one in which the exile could share. He softened his exterior somewhat and looked Steel in the eyes. "You don't like this 'Neo' very much, do you?"
Shrugging and looking across the room, the young man seemed to consider his words carefully. "He's all right, I guess. I haven't really talked to him much. But I don't think he's some sort of savior. It's nice that he does so much for Zion and gives hope to the people, but I think he's a fool to suggest we put all our faith in him."
"Hmm," Smith hummed, watching as Captain Psyche approached with a visage much like that of Trinity. "Perhaps."
When Psyche entered into their presence she was quiet at first, looking as though she wanted to speak, but didn't know how. Putting a hand on her shoulder, Steel said in an uncommonly gentle fashion, "What is it? What is all of this about?"
The female shook her head and took a breath. "They aren't telling us much, but something's happened to Morpheus."
Smith's attention was immediately snared. He stood a little straighter, but remembered himself enough to not appear to eager to learn more. "The one that spoke at the Temple gathering? What's happened?" Whatever it was, he guessed now the reason Bane was absent.
Again she shook her head, then looked up as someone passed by. Reading out, she took a hold of the man's arm and stopped him. "Link?" The dark-skinned rebel stopped politely, but his eyes held that same lack of understanding that donned many of the faces here. "What happened to Morpheus?"
"I'm not entirely sure myself, to be honest." He inhaled deeply and looked each of them over briefly. "I was just on my way to ask Trinity. As I have it, someone attacked him last night. It must have been pretty bad, because we're grounded."
Psyche's eyes were full of sympathy as she gave Link's arm a squeeze. "I'm sorry. If there's anything we can do…"
Link nodded, accepting the offer before it was even completed. "Thanks, Psych. I'm sure he'll be all right. If you'll excuse me, though, I'd like to have a word with Trin. See if she was told anything more than me."
They exchanged the customary words of dismissal and when Psyche turned back to Smith and Steel, she had a purposeful expression. "Maybe we should go talk to her. I'm sure this is hard on her. She's been his second in command for years."
The idea was, of course, too dangerous for him. Smith stepped backwards, settling against a wall at his back. "I think I will remain here. If it is as you say, then it isn't my place…" The door in the center of the room opened and the figure that entered drew his attention. "…to be there," he completed his sentence, but watched Anderson approach Trinity and Link with anger and ignorance in his eyes.
When he could tear his eyes off the form of his enemy Smith turned to see Psyche regarding him intensely. The look she gave him was uncomfortably scrutinizing, as if she understood exactly why his attention had diverted. But her thoughts remained a mystery. Psyche said nothing of whatever it was she made of the incident, instead choosing to nod and accept his excuse. "Of course, Mimic."
Commandeering Steel towards the trio, Psyche left him with his thoughts. Smith pondered what it was that could have happened as he slipped away, further obscured by assorted rebel standing around, talking amongst themselves. He wandered to the far side and took a seat in the stands where he could view Anderson and his cohorts. The absence of Morpheus from he and Trinity was very obvious. The exile almost smiled as he considered what could have happened. Could the great captain even lay dead? Anderson looked angry enough.
Smith watched as he explained to his friends whatever it was he knew. Link soon shared the fury on his colleague's face. Trinity did not appear surprised, likely having been briefed beforehand. What was it that so troubled their hopeful expressions? He did not mind that Bane had done this, even though security would be a little harder to evade now. He was enjoying this too much to mind.
So wrapped up in that thought he was that he did not notice two blue eyes on him until a few seconds after he had been sighted. He looked up into the face of Trinity's searching expression and froze momentarily, wondering if it would dawn on her right away. His pulse quickened and his body tensed as she knit her brow. They were far apart, far enough that she might question what she was seeing. When the body of a nameless stranger came between them Smith acted quickly and got up from his spot, slipping around the stands to seek out the nearest escape route. To his great irritation he saw that the main doors were now shut with guards standing by.
"Order!" barked a voice from the head of the room. "Please, take your seats!"
Tightening his fists, Smith looked around a little desperately, seeing no choice. Rebels drifted on towards the stands. He could not stand here alone and remain inconspicuous. His jaw set, his hand tucked within the pocket where his knife was, the exile chose to face the possibilities and crept around the side of the stands. He looked over the seats and saw her right where she had been, her eyes now locked on Anderson. Perhaps she had dismissed what she had seen.
Psyche, however, had her eyes on him and was patiently waiting for him to look up at her wave. Catching the movement, Smith did and followed her direction to where her crew was seated for the meeting. It was mixed in enough to ease his discomfort, so he took his place beside the crew and looked across the gathered Council members ahead. A woman whose name he did not know stood as the room hushed. Her gray hair signified her age as well as her wise visage and her ornamentation singled her out among the elders. Her voice was not threatening, but stern enough to demand attention as she said, "You have been called here because of a very serious matter. Our security has been breached once again by a traitorous individual. Last night one of our captains was attacked." She paused as assorted chatter filled the room. One of the other councilors called for order, putting a stop to it after a moment.
The female councilor crossed her arms behind her back and gazed at the rebels in the stands. "We have a suspect in custody and you are here for the deliberations concerning his crime which will take place following this introduction. Many of you are on friendly terms with Captain Morpheus—the victim, some of you are not. We have yet to establish a motive, but I speak for Zion when I say that what happened last night will not be tolerated again. Treachery of this level will be dealt with swiftly and harshly. I now defer to Councilor Hamann for a description of the crime itself."
Smith watched as the frail woman sat down. They were very serious about whatever had been done. It was almost amusing, this show of force they were putting on, for what could they truly do to stop this from happening again? It would happen and he would be the next one on trial, he knew. In that these deliberations interested him. It was a look at what he may well endure in the near future. Not that it would matter by then. Let them end his life for ending Neo's. He did not want to remain in this shell.
Councilor Hamann did not rise, leaning in his chair and looking over a terminal before him. He shook his head when he finally looked up. "Last night a little after 2am Captain Morpheus was attacked as many of you know. His attacker, a crewmember of the Caduceus named Bane, entered his quarters in what appeared to be willing terms—which means we believe Captain Morpheus allowed him to enter of his own free will, without force or coercion—and 32 minutes after entry exited alone. Security cameras have this on tape, so there is no dispute that he was there at this time. This morning Morpheus was discovered by his second officer Trinity in a state of near death." Another round of chatter overtook the room, quickly dispersed by a word from a dark-skinned man wearing gold.
Hamann exhaled, closing his terminal. "Medics confirm that his condition suggests he had been attacked nearly six hours previous to his examination. The case is, for the most part, concise. Bane freely confesses to using a metal pipe he tore from the wall in the captain's quarters to overcome him. There are, however, certain circumstances that make this case a little unclear. After an examination it was shown that Bane suffered severe neural trauma, which may or may not have resulted in impaired judgment on his part. These tests are preliminary and non-conclusive as of yet, but even now we are working to understand the nature of this trauma. I hope to have an answer to that question for you sometime during these deliberations." The councilor folded his hands on the table before him and took a deep breath as if this troubled and wearied him. Indeed no one in this room appeared at ease with all that had been said. Gravely, Hamann concluded his oration. "I now turn the floor over to your questions."
"Absolutely unbelievable," Psyche murmured, then pointed when the dark man that had been with Bane last night stood up. "Captain Ballard."
Smith darted a glance at Trinity to make certain he had not been spotted again, then satisfied with her attention on Ballard, gazed also at the captain as he spoke. "I haven't gotten to speak with Bane yet, but I want to know exactly what he's been saying to you. No disrespect, Councilors, but nothing he's done gave me any indication he had any opinion of Morpheus, let alone something like this."
Hamann nodded in concession. "As his captain you're entitled to know what his testimony is, but as of this morning he is under the jurisdiction of the council. I must ask that you wait until the designated time when we bring him to give his testimony before the council and before his peers." Ballard did not appear happy with that, but nevertheless took his seat again, speaking to Malachi at his side.
Not surprisingly it was Anderson that spoke next, standing with a respectful, if intent, expression. "Councilors, I understand the gravity of this situation and believe me, no one is more bothered by this than Trinity and I."
"The Council recognizes your loyalty to Captain Morpheus," Hamann agreed with a curious look.
Anderson nodded seriously and used that to add to his point, "And it's because of that I request to be allowed back into the Matrix as soon as possible."
A few whispers made a way around the room. Councilor Hamann appeared thoughtful, if cautious. "This is a strenuous time to make such a request."
"And with all due respect," the stern man in gold said from the side of the room, "with the coming battle we cannot afford to lose any of our force for such a trivial reason."
"The Nebuchadnezzar has been grounded in light of your captain's attack," the gray-haired councilor reminded Anderson. "I understand that Morpheus would want you to answer the Oracle's summons, but I cannot justify going against our security policy, neither can I order another captain to take on a mission of this nature during so tentative a time."
Smith watched as Anderson looked down, seeking some sort of phrase or action or offer that would change the outcome of his appeal. There seemed to be nothing and inwardly the exile felt a certain amount of satisfaction. He was trapped here, unsuspecting of the trap that lay in wait for him. Or so Smith had thought. From across the room an individual stood and addressed the council. "If the Council permits, I volunteer the Vigilant for this mission."
The ex-Agent frowned when Hamann's expression took on a positive light. He shared a questioning glance with his fellow council members, then, giving Anderson a mild look, he said, "It appears you have an advocate, Neo. Captain Soren, if you wish to undertake this, you have the Council's permission to undertake this mission."
The man in gold became quite agitated with his, mirroring the emotions Smith felt. "What?! Councilor, if I may…"
Hamann raised a hand and the speaker withdrew his outburst coolly. "I stand behind the choice that was made, Commander Lock. Captain Soren, you are under no orders or obligations. If at any time you see fit to turn back, that is, of course, your right to do so. Given the importance of your mission I give you permission to leave these deliberations for preparation on the promise that you will make all haste to return to Zion once your visit with the Oracle is complete. Also, Neo, before you depart I ask that you report to my office. I would like a word with you."
Anderson replied with a grateful nod and urgency about his stance. "Thank you, Councilor."
Watching him leave gave Smith a bitter feeling in the pit of his stomach. He glared at the form that exited the chamber with all haste, Trinity at his side and his dupes not far behind. His chances at getting to Anderson had just greatly diminished. He could try it now, but it would be his final try. If he failed they would haul him away before he could take another step. The only thing remaining after that would be to catch him before his departure. Before leaving he would have to see Hamann and in all likelihood he would not go without paying a last visit to his fallen captain. Humans were highly sentimental.
Ignoring the rest of the proceedings, he started to ponder ways to get out of remaining here. He did not care now what happened to Bane. He would live it soon enough.
=======
Author: Ruse
Disclaimer: No infringement intended.
Feedback: Yes! By all means, my precioussss, lemme know how I'm doing!
Archive: Sure, just please let me know if you will, so I can stop by and see your site.
To Reviewers:
Selina – Thanks for the review and the website link! I've been looking for a good Matrix website for fic, but all that I've found were like single author sites and defunct ones. Awesome that there's one abroad!
Constructions – Thanks! ;)
LiMiYa – Thankie! I figure perhaps since people are people, not programs to be completely overwritten, these Smiths prolly retain some of their hosts personalities a bit along with the memories. It would explain the cheesy lines. ;)
