The Matrix: Daughter of Zion Series

[Ziona]

Yes, I know this is a Star Trek Forum, but I am aware of a few Matrix fans here, so i will begin to post my chronicles of where my name came to be. I hope you all enjoy

-Ziona-

[Ziona]

The beginning was dark and cold. Misery was the most common element on this horrible planet. Misery was what ran the world, what fed the world. Many years have passed since, but the same misery that existed so many years ago still clings to every atom of humanity... current humanity. The human race was used... they were used and beaten down for years, only to rise up against a force many times more powerful than they. And humanity was crushed under the weight of the Machines, crushed and left to suffer a fate they had not chosen.

Fate, it seems, does not arrive without a sense of purpose, of irony, of cynicism. That is fate... purpose, irony and cynicism. Humanity was born to be killed... and to be used. Humanity is, was, and will be the Machine's greatest tool. And the Machines know this. They sense it. They feel it. They live off it. They designed it, nurtured it, thrived on it only to kill it. And humanity stood for it. They accepted their hideous fate and seemed to revel in the fact that everything they worked for was an illusion, a program, a lie.

Woe be to the life of humanity. Existence is worthless. Rebellion is eminent. Love is absurd. Hope is ignorance. Knowledge is weakness. Power is weakness. Everything is nothing. Eternity... ah... eternity...Time knows not the fatal ticking of a clock, counting lives away. Time knows only this. Time starts only to stop and stops only to start again. And death is only an escape into eternal nothingness. Humanity knows not true time but only a fragment of the infinite irony. Humanity, in its infinite wisdom, asks time for the only thing that time cannot give. Freedom... knowledge... and security.

Welcome to the Riddle.
Welcome to the Chaos.
Welcome to the Matrix...

[Seven of Nine]

Nice

Don't worry about the Matrix theme, I think we've got some Star Wars stories hanging around

When are you going to post more?

[Ziona]

An ear shattering boom was heard, the repercussions echoing outwards, molesting every ear unlucky enough to hear it. The massive explosion of sound was accompanied by a flash of light, which blinded the viewer just as the sound deafened them. Vague voices were heard, one of them yelling an impassioned cry of courage. Another smaller explosion with a small flash of light. A high pitched sound, like an inhuman cry, was heard. Then there was silence.... silence. More explosions were heard at a distance, followed by the sound of bombs exploding, glass shattering, bodies falling.

"Retreat!" Was the cry now and suddenly things began to move. People rushed to move away, as quickly as they could, clambering for higher or safer ground. As they ran, they were cut down, staining the ground with crimson the color of the deepest red... the richest red.

The Machines were slaughtering the human race, as they usually did. It was a ritual. A blood but seemingly necessary ritual. And the humans were losing horribly.

Upon a lonely hill sat two great tiers, domes stretching into heaven, stretching upwards into the sky... the gray sky. The windows were covered in silken and velvet curtains, allowing little light into the large abode. Inside sat a young girl, hair of raven black, eyes of obsidian. There was an aura about her like nothing anyone had ever felt. It was almost intimidating, almost powerful, and yet meek and mild. It was an aura like nothing else... innocent and yet violent. The young girl had skin as perfect as polished ivory and fingers perfectly tapered to neat points. She was perfection by human standards, she was royalty, she was pure blood.

The palace walls trembled with each explosion and yet not a single bomb fell within the palace walls. The Machines knew better. They dared not upset the palace grounds. They were literally hallowed grounds. The wrath they would have evoked could be a force to reckon with. The young woman sitting in the palace was a power like only a true Zion Child could hold.

The explosions were getting closer and closer to the palace gates, the sound disrupting the girl within the palace. She rose from her seat, crossing to the curtained windows, her bare arms crossed gently across her fluttering heart. Her pale arms reached out, pushing the heavy curtains back.

The skyline was hazy with displaced dust and debris. A heavy sigh escaped her crimson lips. She couldn't hear the battle but she still knew what was going on. With a swift movement she opened the windows, a cool breeze rushing inward into the room. She leaned out the window, staring off into the skyline, her brow furrowing in concern.

"Cease!" She called into the skies. "Cease!" She called again. The air seemed to fall into silence, to fall lifeless at her feet leaving her alone in her own thoughts. She remained outstretched for a single moment longer before retreating into the darkness of the formal chamber, her pale thin arms crossing on her chest again. She regressed to her chair, sitting heavily, as if carrying the weight of the world's problems on her slender shoulders.

A creaking was heard and a bright light flooded the almost lightless room, reflecting off the unseen furnishings of the young girl's abode. A four-poster bed with velvet tapestry, oaken chairs, three in number. On the wall opposite the door stood a magnificent mirror, surrounding by oak in developing patterns of leaves and branches. Words were etched into the mirror:

The End Begins Here and the Next Beginning Is Born

The girl turned towards the light, her dark eyes reflecting the light. The sound of tapping boots reached her ears.

"Daughter, Ziona, the fighting has ceased!" A man's voice called to her, almost dancing across the air. The girl, now identified as Ziona, nodded to the man, rising from her spot.

"I know." Ziona whispered, slowly moving towards the door. Her clothing was seen, the gossamer material clinging gently to her body. The material seemed to float on the wind as she made her way gracefully towards the man. "Damage?" She asked, stepping out into the light. Her dark eyes regarded the middle-aged man speaking to her.

"Minimal. Most of the damage was sustained outside of the city, Daughter." The man humbly placed his fingers together and bowed to her. "We also had minimal casualties. We are safe now, Daughter." A small smile crossed his lips but Ziona did not smile.

"Tell the Counsel I seek a hearing with them. We must meet an agreement with the Machines. I refuse to allow this battle to continue." Ziona turned on her heel, flashing the man a haggard and violent glare before heading towards another set of oaken doors down the golden hallway.

[Ziona]

((work on another chapter... so busy lately ^.^))

[Ziona]

If a city could have been more split in their leaders, then Zion would at least have given that city a run for its money. The Council, despite their good intentions, had no mind to do anything that Ziona asked. And yet everytime the Council went against Ziona, bad things happened.

This time was no different. Ziona asked for a treaty to be signed with the Machines and the Council refused. Ziona asked for the outerlying ships on the rims of the territory to be brought in and the Council refused. The consequence for their actions were seven ships taken down, twenty-seven men and women killed in the destruction of the ships, and a very angry public who wanted answers from the Council.

Ziona knew that all her pleaing would bring nothing but anger and resentment, only creating a bigger divide between the Council and herself. There was no way around this problem. The Council seemed determined to sign the City away to ruin, waiting only for the Machines to take out the entire city, from the outer rim inward. And Ziona was the one who had to keep answering to her people, saying that times would change and that things would be fine again.

The people knew otherwise. Their family, their children, their friends, their lovers were being killed every day in every section of the Zion territories. And the head leaders of Zion were doing nothing. A rebellious air was beginning to form within the City and Ziona knew it would only be a matter of time before the anger, the pain, the resentment spilled forth and consumed the entire City. The masses would rise up against the Zion Council and, if the time came, Ziona herself. The end would be swift and bloody, but it would be the end and Zion as the world knew it would cease to be the City that it was now... in all its glory.

Ziona could see a time in the future where the Zion would no longer be the city it was now. The white buildings glistening against the sun that was beginning to fade behind the clouds of war that the Machines created. The gold-guilded artestry of the many artisans in the City. The wonderful sound of people laughing and moving about their business would end. ANd Ziona could not help but feel responsible for this destruction. She could not help but think that she could have saved her City.

"I know now why you continue to go against what I tell you, Council." Ziona spoke, her words short and barely held under control. "Why do not you listen to me once and do as I say? My father would have..."

"You're father went out on some wild chase and go himself killed, Ziona." The Council spat back. "You are as reckless and violent and ... and stupid as your father."

Ziona stepped back at this outburst and raised her dark eyes on the Council.

"This will be your undoing." Ziona spat. "From now on I rage war against you... you and your rules. The people of Zion will not stand for this and watch their City fall. You will falll, Council! You will be no more when I am done. You will look upon my wonders and despair for I will destroy all that you have owned and cherished. Beware... you have been warned." Ziona turned on her heel and stormed from the room, leaving a trail of fire behind her in the eyes of the Council.

That day would mark the end of peace and the end of control over Zion.