Thanks, Harpo. [returns to locked door and opens it]
The Tweaker peered carefully around the corner into the outpost's main Control Panel. Three utility programs sat at consoles, supervising the cycle-to-cycle functions of this outpost. All three were obviously bored-- one actually had his feet up on his console, and the second toyed with a simple Logic puzzle, while the third typed absentmindedly on a keypad, apparently upgrading some feature or other of this near-forgotten outpost. In accordance with traditional Security protocol, however, the command center had 2 Sec Rezzers on opposite sides of the room, with an ICP by each and a third standing guard by the door. Tweaker quickly ducked back before he could be seen and considered his plan of attack. Obviously a traditional attack would not work; he couldn't derezz both ICP's at once-- one was bound to hit the alarm, and with his disc out in the center of the room the Red program standing guard would derezz him immediately. A Ball primitive wouldn't work-- he couldn't risk damaging all the controls for this outpost. What he really needed was a partner, but Harpo was probably halfway across the base by now... A thought struck him, and he set out to find an ICP.
///
Tweaker::Stealth_mode := True;
load(suspend.sub);
install suspend;
done.
///

[chat] Hey Harpo, I looked in your Profile... you like the Myst series?

[chat] Yeah, me too. Played all of 'em, 'xcept the latest Expansion Pack for Uru [thwaps dial-up] and loved 'em. Can't wait until Myst IV: Revelation gets released this December...

Hey, have you been to MystCommunity.com? Great forum...great people. I go there a lot. Not the same action as here, but still fun.

Hang on a sec... [mutes chat]
The Tweaker had finally found what he was looking for-- a lonely ICP, all alone, guarding a small file repository not far from the main directory access. As the ICP turned his head to look down another hallway, Tweaker stepped out from a joint in the corridor and cleared his throat. "Excuse me." The ICP turned back, took one look and threw his disc. Tweaker calmly brought his own disc up in front of his chest, ricocheting the red disk off into a corner. As the ICP called back his disc, Tweaker walked over and pulled out a Plane Primitive, which he held flat and pushed through the ICP's neck. The Red instantly froze as the Suspend subroutine blocked the flow of information to and from his AI engine. The ICP disc clattered and skidded to the floor. Tweaker opened the door of the data repository and pushed the frozen ICP inside, then returned to the hallway, closed the door, and picked up the now-ownerless ICP disc. Studying it closely, he forced a Cluster.Beta subroutine into it, and headed back toward the Control Panel.
[unmutes chat] Were you saying something, Harpo?abortion pills online abortion pill online purchase cytotec abortion

::: sees some concerned ICP's huddled around a nearby IOnode and runs over to investigate. :::

IO Node: We're being slaughtered like Space Invader sprites! Sector security comprimised. Requesting immediate backup!

Command Unit: We're on our way.

::: walks up to the closest command unit :::

TF: Can you Pro's use a hand?

Command Unit: We appreciate your enthusiasm, Script. But I'm sure we can handle this.

TF: Slaughtered like space invader sprites? Sounds like you've got a mass-destroyer over there, and I get the feeling I know who's behind it. If I'm right, I've encountered this one before.

Command Unit: Sorry. But we don't have nanocycles or the multitasking capacity to keep an eye on independant programs. We need to take care of this immediately.

::: one if the ICP's operates the controls for a transport, and locks in the target sector. on a circular pad, a bright beam of light shoots into the air. the ICP's begin walking into the light single file. TF follows behind. Upon emerging on the other side, the Commander turns and sees TF :::

Command Unit: Are your input functions corrupted or something? Didn't you hear what I just said?

::: TF takes out his rod and rezzes it into a LOL rifle gold :::

TF: It's alright. I can take responsibility for myself. I don't require a Bitsitter.

::: TF confidently scrambles down a corridor. the Commander puts a hand to his head and sighs. He points a couple of the ICP's.:::

Command Unit: You two, go with him.order abortion pill abortion pill buy online where to buy abortion pill

ICP20396: Oh great. There's two of them!

TF: How can you be sure?

ICP20396: The distress call came from the main archive bin for this outpost. But that siren was tripped from the outpost control center.

TF: Wonderful. Perhaps I my instincts were wrong about this one. Do you have a map of this place?

ICP20401: Here.

:::the ICP produces a compressed file in the shape of a narrow yellow rod. He pulls at one end and it expands into a large translucent window with a glowing overhead image of the outpost. TF notices a small glowing yellow dot :::

TF: Is that us?

ICP20401: Yes it is.

TF: Ok, now where is the control center, and this archive bin?

::: The ICP makes a quick finger motion on two parts of the map and they highlight green. Looking at the map, TF wondered what could be so important about this outpost:::

TF: This sector seems so obsolete. I wonder what they're after? Ok, we're close to the control center, so we'd best get back there and try to secure it. My guess is they already have what they came for.

:::TF and the two ICP's dash in the direction of the control center. They arrive in almost no time and find it unusually quiet. The utility programs are even still functioning.

TF: What happened?

ControlPanel106.exe: A single program accessed the control center. I triggered the alarm and he left.

TF: Anything else?

ControlPanel106.exe: He accessed a panel on his way out but I'm not sure what he did.

TF: Alright. Well their cover is definately blown at this point so they're going to attempt an escape. Any way we can seal this place?

ICP20401: Not with the crude routines here. It's nowhere near functional enough.

TF: Hmm... what about a quarantine?

ICP20401: What?

TF: The system antivirus can quarantine the sector. All routes in or out will be cut off to prevent a virus from spreading.

ICP20401: But there's no virus present.

TF: Haven't you ever... falsified a report?

ICP20396: Whoa, hold on there, script. Do you know what kind of trouble we can get into for falsely triggering a virus alarm?

TF: Can you think of a better idea? Those programs are probably on their way out here and we don't even know what they're up to.

ICP20396: *sigh* We're going to need one very high-rated legal advisor program. This is ICP20396 to Sarj4, do you copy?

Sarj4: Affirmative. What do you have to report?

ICP20396: We're in the control center. The utilities here said the rogue program has been here and fled when they triggered the alarm. We calculate they're looking for an exit.

Sarj4: Anything else?

ICP20396: Yes, sir. We tried to lockdown the sector but the software is too archaic and has no such routines. So we... think that the only way to keep them from leaving is to get the Antivirus to quarantine the sector.

Sarj4: So there's a virus here as well?

ICP20396: Well... no. We have to fake it.

Sarj4: WHAT?!

ICP20396: I know its crazy, but it may be the only way, Sir. Besides, it's TronFanatic's idea.

Sarj4: That overconfident script who followed us in here... well, that may be crazy, but I hate to admit that I think he's right. I don't want to risk those programs getting out of here. Excecute your plan. We're fanning out across the outpost. Sooner or later, we'll find them.

ICP20396: Yes, sir.

:::the ICP walks over to the control center's I/O node and calls upon the Antivirus. A strange and frightening sound is heard as the Antivirus responds :::

AntiVirus: Yessssssssss....

ICP20396: *shaking* Mr AntiVirus sir.. We... umm... have a problem here and we uhh need your help. We need you to.. *gulp* quarantine the sector.

AntiVirus: Do you have a virus to report or not? I don't have time for your pathetic incoherent output.

ICP20396: Please, umm.... we need you to quarantine the sector before... err... well...

TF: HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!! I AM THE ALMIGHTY CORROSION! YOU WILL ALL FEEL YOUR CODE BECOME FRAGMENTED BEYOND RECOG

::: one of the control consoles starts beeping an error message :::

ICP20396: Program, what is that?

ControlPanel106.exe: We've encountered a major error here. Damage to structural integrity has disrupted power to multiple functions. ::: points to a flashing spot on the map being displayed by the screen :::

ICP20396: Comeon, we're checking it out.

:::The two ICP's and TF run towards the source of the error. They turn the corner and see a flat slab of material resting on a sparking pile of rubble. The slab slopes upward towards a hole. Through the hole can be seen criss-crossing lines of data streaking across... the sky. :::

ICP20396: Oh, great.

ICP20401: This is ICP20401 to Sarj4. They're outside. They seem to have blasted their way out. I'm sending you the location of the opening now.

/// sendLoc=lastKnownError : target=Sarj4
data sent ///

Sarj4: We're on our way over there.

TF scrambles up the ramp first and emerges on the roof of the complex. His two 'bodyguards' follow behind.

ICP20401: Alright, so where do you suppose they've gone?

:::ICP20396 activates his triangulate subroutine and scans the horizon. ::: I don't see anything moving. :::spots the simulation center and points towards it::: But I have a good idea of where they went...

ICP20401: Sarj4, we've found there's a simulation center accessible from the roof. Moving to investigate.abortion pills online abortion questions cytotec abortion

[comment]Tweaker, next time you're on, please post in Extreme disc competition... I need help...[/comment]

///
neural_interface(){} //ONLINE
redirect(chat.2::access) neural_interface
///

A booming voice straight from the mouth of Hell fills the Control Panel.Greeetings prooograams.
All the 's, already nervous from the encounter with Antivirus, shriek and hit the deck. The voice then reverts to Tweaker's friendly baritone.Hey guys, it's just me. I just get a kick out of doing that. You guys are going to be in sooooo much trouble when the Antivirus gets there and finds out you're the "virus" instead of me. Start working on an excuse for why you falsified a report and dragged him out here!

[chat.1]On my way, Harpo.
//Accessing Neural Interface...
//Dowloading Sector Map...
//Editing Sector Map...
//Uploading Sector Map...
//Done.

The outpost instantly locks as intersecting walls appear everywhere. Tron Fanatic calls up his map to find that the previous hallway layout has been replaced with a simple crosshatch pattern of perpendicular walls-- effectively transforming the station into a grid of 1-square-meter rooms, with the occasional door and control panel for variety-- except for a single straight hallway reaching from near the Command Center to the Solar Sailer hangar.
[chat.2] Like that, Fanatic? My Neural Interface I installed into the Control Panel gives me Administrator-level command priority over the station. Useful for opening door...and closing doors... and stuff like that.

[strolls toward the Solar Sailer hangar]where to buy abortion pill http://blog.bitimpulse.com/template/default.aspx?abortion-types buy abortion pill online

.... Tweaker. And he tried to convince me he was harmless. I thought he was involved in this...

TF: Looks like we got out of there just in time. And look at this. Strangely, there's one path still open in the outpost, and it's leading to that simulation center.

ICP20401: Well it looks like we can forget about any backup. Comeon. We still have a chance to stop them before they launch!

ICP20396: What about the rest of the garrison?

ICP20401: We can't help them now anyway. And Sarj's circuits are going to be sizzling next time he sees us.

AntiVirus: ::: walks effortlessly through the complex and comes across the Sarj ::: Alright. Where is the virus?

Sarj4: Umm... *gulp*

I'd much rather come back with something to show for our actions.

TF: Besides, do you really want to stay and face the Antivirus?

ICP20396: Ah. Your logic is well-recieved. Let's go.

antivirus program has been neutralized. system shutdown in 5 millicycles

TF, ICP20396, & ICP20401: What?!

TF: How is that possible?

ICP20396: I don't know, but we'd better come up with something real quick or we're all going to be hibernating. We can't let them escape!

::: they all run as fast as they can towards the hangar :::

ICP20401: Can a simulation even get to an exit in time?

TF: No clue.order abortion pill morning after pill price where to buy abortion pill

As warning sirens went off and urgent system messages radiated through the comm channels, Tweaker burst through the hangar doors and vaulted into the back of the Sailer.
Let's go!

[comment]woah... that was suitably dramatic ending... [/comment]
*Harpo looks back at the Reco*
uh, oh, just when I thought things had ended...

*Harpo tries to get more power to the engines, but the older system was already operating at peak capacity*

well, Tweaker, it seems we'll be together for a while yet!
*and I'm not sure if my subroutine can help or not, but I suppose it's worth a try... Harpo streches out his hands and the sailer jiters for a moment, then suddenly jots forward twice as fast as before*where to buy abortion pill abortion types buy abortion pill online