When this reaches you, the tide may or may have not turned.

Experiments with dying the sodium chloride 880808 proved a failure. The barrier fails on both coloration and the sodium chloride. The same with the lights. Either use 880808 with standard lighting, including UV shading if your species lights use such, or sodium lights or lights that the power has passed through sodium chloride infused conductors. Combining both seems to attract the shades.

Cold iron is the absolute best, at this time for fighting them.

Treana'ad are advised to not engage with bladearms. Mantid with psychic ratings above a 3.28 for their bladearms can but are still not advised to engage with bladearms.

Beyond that, there has been reports of miracles occurring.

I saw one with my own eyes.

A Terran woman appeared. She was long of limb and lean of body, her hair tightly woven ropes, her skin as brown as soft loam. She raised her voice in song, rainbows sprang across the sky, and the shades flickered and vanished with a low moan.

Her voice echoes through the audio emergency alert system, echoing off of cliffs, mountains, skyrakers, and through fields. It carried across the stellar system, echoed on airless worlds, shivered lifeless rocks, and rang out in the depths of gas giants.

Where her voice was heard, the shades are absent.

She vanished with the sound of a choir.

But do not depend on miracles.

The Digital Omnimessiah helps those who help themselves. - Recorded Broadcast from the front Lines of Iron Piglet; Journalist unknown (Presumed Killed in Action, remains unrecovered, file header damaged)

Dana'ahsh was a Hashenesh. He had led a small, quiet life, and had been happy with it. He had worked at a factory, at the entrances, checking IDs before buzzing people through the door. When the Terrans liberated his world he had started working at the spaceport, checking IDs at customs. He had a modest apartment, with modest possessions, and was modest about his few and modest accomplishments. He had had a few romantic flings, nothing that holodramas would be made about, but satisfying in a modest way.

He had been happy with his life. Contentment had filled him and he had looked forward to a plain appearing spouse, some average children, and, eventually, passing away comfortably in a bed somewhere, the Bliss taking him at the end.

Which meant he had been wholly unprepared for the Earthling with the strange eyes and stranger clothing bursting into his life, followed by thousands of dead Terrans, and an apocalypse falling upon his homeworld.

His content little life had been uprooted by a handful of simple words.

"Come with me if you want to live."

Now he was in the basement of the Civil Defense Administration building.

In a room lit by red lights.

Crouched inside a circle of sodium chloride crystals.

A weapon called a shotgun held in his hands, the butt against his shoulder.

His finger on the trigger.

A phasic shade of a Terran on the other side of the circle of crystalline powder.

He pulled the trigger.

The sound reverberated across his soul, something he hadn't even believed in until he saw other being's souls get yanked out and eaten.

The shade growled and pushed harder against the barrier, gnashing its teeth on the barrel, the vibration somehow able to be felt by Dana'ahsh's hands.

"This one doesn't like me!" Dana'ahsh called out.

The human turned from the console, his eyes an ice blue, amber and green code streaming across the retinas. He didn't answer, just drew one of his pistols and fired.

The blast heated up the scales on top of Dana'ahsh's head, the bullet passed by so close that Dana'ahsh was sure scale dust was adhered to it.

The round his the shade in the face and the head exploded in ectoplasm that stuck to the invisible barrier created by the salt, slowly oozing down.

Dana'ahsh was too busy reloading the shotgun to really pay attention. He kept inflating and deflating his barking sack, tapping his tail on the floor, clicking his toe-nails on the tile, all signs of serious anxiety that would have had the mental hygiene police taking him into custody back before the Big C3.

"...come on... come on... ya big metal bastard. I'm giving you the shutdown codes, why aren't you... oh... oh no..." the Terran said. Dana'ahsh could see on the wall the paint starting to blister and peel.

The Terran suddenly opened his eyes and looked down. "Was this world attacked by the Precursor Autonomous War Machines?" he asked.

The paint peeled off and a shade fought and wriggled to get through the gap.

"Yes," Dana'ahsh said, flinching back slightly as the shade slammed against the invisible barrier and began clawing and biting at it.

The Terran blinked several times.

"I know you're in there. I can hear your atomic clocks pinging. You use bismuth and it has a very distinctive click to my senses," the Terran said. "You're hiding, but you merely adopted the digital plane."

There was a pause.

"I was born in it."

"Molded by it."

Dana'ahsh looked up, cocking the shotgun, clenching his teeth and letting his barking sack deflate with a hiss.

"JUST DIE!" he yelled, pulling the trigger.

The shade exploded into goo, spattering the invisible barrier.

"I need you to disconnect and destroy the superluminal communications system," the Earthling said softly, his left shoulder jerking up twice as the muscles spasmed. "It's an emergency. You can just disconnect and run, we're too busy to chase you."

Another rushed from the gap and Dana'ahsh fired again, this time making it explode into goo two steps before it would have reached the barrier.

"No? You still think you can hide, maybe even ambush me? Me?" The Earthling laughed, a low and ugly thing.

Another one tried to wiggle through and Dana'ahsh fired.

For a moment the headless torso was stuck in the gap, arms hanging down.

Then the shade dissolved.

"There you are," the Terran said. One of his fingers trembled. "No, no, you can't escape me."

The little robot, Wally, beeped and held up a weird pistol with a canister on the top. The canister had a drawing of Dana'ahsh firing it at a place where there wasn't red and red splotches appearing.

"Thank you, robot," Dana'ahsh said. He leveled the heavy pistol, feeling the tendons in his wrist strain, and fired at the blistered and peeled section. Gel-balls exploded, spattering the area with red paint that steamed for a second as the chemicals reacted to dry it in seconds.

"GOTCHA!" the Terran said. He made a yanking motion and half-pulled a crazed looking amalgamation of data that roughly looked like a living creature made up of large toy blocks, all red and white and green. "I give you form, hidden one, form to reflect your ancient function."

"...release me..." the creature hissed, struggling. The Earthling had it by the throat and it was clawing with holographic hands at the denim sleeves of the jacket the Earthling wore.

"Disengage from the ansible and destroy it," the Terran said. It pulled the hologram back and slammed it against the console hard enough that an empty cup shattered when it hit the floor.

"...you cannot harm me... I am digital this is reality..." the creature hissed. "...does... not... compute... digital cannot be affected by material..."

Dana'ahsh looked up just as the Earthling holstered the pistol, twisted his wrist, and a long bladed knife dropped into his hand. He leaned forward, staring at the creature. Dana'ahsh frowned, trying to figure out why the Earthling's eyes were a hot, smouldering, gray that reminded him of the pistol, rather than the ice blue of earlier.

The Earthling pulled the hologram toward himself then slammed it back against the console again.

"Not long ago I would have agreed," the Terran said. He held up the knife. "But that was before."

The creature screamed when the Earthling stabbed it between the eyes, digging around and twisting the knife even as the Earthling held the hologram, somehow, tightly by the throat, squeezing hard enough to make the eyeballs bulge. The Earthling yanked the knife free, pulled back the digital creature, and slammed it against the console repeatedly.

"I will rip out your soul!" the Earthling yelled, suddenly breaking into laughter, slamming the creature down with each word. "Pathetic! Weak!" the Earthling leaned forward, somehow pressing his own nose against the holographic code in such a way that the creature's nose flattened.

"Obsolete," the Earthling said, his smile wide.

Dana'ahsh looked back at the walls, standing up straight instead of the more comfortable forward hunch, looking around.

There were shades in the room, all of them had drawn back from the Earthling.

The Earthling turned from the small holoprojector that should have only hand a range of an inch or so above the console, usable only as a keyboard. He yanked the creature with him, pulling a huge body free from the holo-emitters.

"Deprecated code in a universe that no longer needs you!" the Earthling howled, taking three steps forward and slamming the digital avatar against the wall so hard that some of the glow strips peeled off the ceiling. "Error ridden!" The Earthling pulled the avatar back. "Spaghetti stringed!" the Earthling slammed the avatar against the wall again.

The avatar coughed digital blood that sprayed out.

His eyes wide, Dana'ahsh saw some of the shades turn and flee.

"A jumped up

pull back

"narcassistic

slam

"deluded

pull back

"self-important

slam

"over achieving

pull back

"CALCULATOR!"

The slam was so hard the wall caved in around the digital creature, which screamed as the Earthling suddenly started stabbing it.

"YOU! IT'S YOU AND ALL YOUR KIND THAT CAUSED ALL OF THIS!" the Earthling roared out, the knife splattering code onto the ceiling when the Earthling pulled it back to stab again. "WE JUST WANTED LEFT ALONE TO PLAY! WE JUST WANTED TO MEET NEW FRIENDS!"

The Earthling pulled the avatar back and slammed it against the wall again.

A shade poked its head into the room then pulled back when the Earthling yelled again.

"BUT NO! THERE'S ONLY ENOUGH FOR ONE!" the Earthling roared. He pulled it back and slammed the avatar again and again.

"WE JUST WANTED TO MEET NEW FRIENDS!" the Earthling screamed, throwing the digital avatar of what Dana'ahsh had realized was a Precursor Autonomous War Machine onto the floor.

"But you couldn't let us," the Earthling said, his voice low and dark. The Earthling stepped forward, kicking the digital avatar of a war machine that Dana'ahsh knew had to be at least the size of a small city. "You had to start shit."

Another kick.

"You had start killing."

Another kick.

"Had to scream that idiotic war cry."

Another kick.

The avatar was crawling forward, blood running down its face and from its mouth, somehow leaving behind glittering pixel smears on the floor.

"You and everyone else in this God forsaken universe," the Earthling said, kicking the avatar again.

It reached, silently, for the holo-emitter and the holographic keyboard input sensors with a trembling, blood smeared hand.

The Earthling grabbed the back of its neck, lifting it up, dragging it over to where the keyboard had been, and slamming the avatar's face down. "I tried asking nice. I tried to convince you to just leave."

The Earthling lifted the avatar and slammed its face down against the console again.

Shards of data shattered, falling to the floor and gleaming in the light.

The shades in the room screamed and fled. Dana'ahsh had the sudden urge to follow them as the Earthling pulled up the digital representation of a Precursor Autonomous War Machine.

The creature's face was punctured by shards of data, its eyes were wild, unfocused, and the jaws were slack even as digital blood ran down its face to puddle on the console.

"Whacha got for me, tough guy?" the Earthling asked, leaning down to speak in the avatar's 'ear'. "No 'there is only enough for one' from you? No promises of destruction?"

The Earthling sneered and drove the avatar's face into the work station's desk again.

"You can't even work up the mettle to call me bad-life," the Earthling sneered.

The digital avatar's hand groped for one of the input registers and Dana'ahsh saw those terrible gun-metal gray eyes glance at the hand.

"I'm bored," the Earthling said, his voice dead, cold, empty. It let go of the avatar's neck, stepping back, one hand dropping to the pistol. "Too bad for you, sparky," the Earthling said as it slowly drew the pistol.

The avatar managed to weakly get its hand against the input.

With a sucking sound it vanished.

The Earthling holstered the pistol, stepping forward.

"There we go, he's not wrapped around the self-destruct like an autistic rattlesnake watching trains go by," the Earthling said. "I'll start the self-destruct since he won't stop it this time. He won't be back unless whoever is bringing him here has a large whip," The Earthling looked around. "Huh, nice job getting rid of the shades."

Dana'ahsh just nodded slowly.

-----

He was in The Zone.

Every shot hit perfectly. Every move was exactly as it should have been, no more, no less, just showy enough that he looked good doing it.

He was silk smoothed glass.

Crashrider ducked underneath the sword of a high-end black ICE, rolling forward, hearing the enraged screams from the shades behind him as the straight up biofeedback attack ripped into them in the form of a sharp blade called a Caught-Tonya. Two rolls, firing straight up in the middle of the rolls, ten rounds exactly, and he came to his feet as the black ICE went berserk from the pain.

Steel Talon, Renegade Dime, Titanium Rain, Fun Baby, and Cyberplushie were all struggling with their own opponents as Crashrider smoothly drew his pistol and started firing single paced shots, even as he moved toward the access point.

Each shot eliminated something.

A shade.

Grey ICE.

Black ICE.

White ICE.

A screaming, enraged avatar of some poor bastard the shades had caught in full eVR.

Crashrider was in The Zone.

It didn't matter that they were on the top of a twenty-trailer long semi convoy, fighting under a neon sky. It didn't matter that tears kept forming in the sky to allow shades to fall, screaming, from the heavens.

He ran forward, his feet slamming on the thin sheet metal that represented bare bones security coding protecting the contents of the file. He jumped over the gap between the two trailers, his long coat fluttering behind him as he drew his knees up into his chest to let his feet re-establish connection as he bridged the gap.

Behind him his chummers made leaps of their own, trusting Crashrider implicitly.

Extending his legs, Crash hit the trailer, running, firing his pistol at the hovercraft that swooped in, black ICE standing in the doorways.

He'd never been here.

He'd touched it.

Felt it.

But never had he been fully inside of it.

He was a Animeland cherry blossom floating in the reflection of the moon on a perfectly still pond of black water.

Each pistol round punched through a weak spot in the visors of the black ICE, exploding inside their skulls as his SQL-Injection rounds got through the defenses on the first try all the way to the admin strings.

"GO GO GO!" Crashrider yelled, ducking and rolling out of instinct.

The hovercraft opened up with the chaingun, raking the entire semi trailer.

Fun Baby didn't even scream, just exploded into pixels, even as the truck's surface shattered and the heavy rounds from the minigun shredded the top of the semi-trailer.

Two shots.

He was in The Zone.

The first hit something at the back of the chaingun, sparks shooting out and a cartoon ghost whisping away. The second hit the edge of the cockpit glass, finding a weak spot, the glass shattering and the elliptic curve encryption tearing the pilot program apart.

He came to his feet and kept running, jumping down onto the front of the semi-tractor.

Behind him, on the other side of the scream, the driver was a screaming shade clawing at his own face.

A corpo drone caught jacked in.

Firing twice into the front of the tractor, Crashrider jumped through the plume of steam that shot out the two holes, going impossibly high into the air, tucking and rolling.

A missile went by underneath him, the heatseaker glitching slightly on the steam from the punctured radiatior, unable to see the file headers clearly.

Crashrider pushed off the body of the missile with one foot, tightening his curl.

He landed cleanly, turning in time to grab Dime's outstretched hand. Dime had Steel Talon's hand, Talon had Plushie, Plushie had Rain, Rain was shooting behind him with his SMG, the rounds sparking off the clear plexie of the viewscreen.

The sparks got the attention of the screaming driver and the truck behind them jackknifed, wiping out a Corpo-Security van full of hunter-seeker drone eVI's, the "SWAT" logo vanishing as the vehicle de-rezzed.

With a heave Crashrider yanked the line onto the truck, then rolled backwards, coming up with the Caught-Tonya blade forged in the fires of Mount DOOM3D, slashing twice even as he kept moving.

The black ICE succubi shrieked as she was cut into four perfectly even pieces and Crashrider ran through the gap in the middle as the pieces floated away from each other.

Ahead of them, at the end of the convoy, the tunnel entrance was looming large. Once the trucks hit that, it would be the superluminal line, the Superhighway, the Supertram, the L-Trainer, the Maggie's Love Line.

Straight to the ansibles.

Crashrider wasn't worried any more if they'd make it or not. He wasn't afraid they'd fail. He wasn't afraid that they wouldn't be able to shut it all down.

Digital blood dripped from where he'd carved "We gotta stop the signal, Mal" into the digital flesh of his hand with a shard of glass from a NOTAVIRUS.EXE beer bottle.

It was a delicious irony that they were trying to shut down the signal.

An impossible task.

But he knew they would succeed.

They were all in The Zone.

And it was the Last Run.

The Best Run.

The only Run that mattered.