Memphis Mallix
Babies don't sleep better than this.
[SIZE=11pt]The scene was one of marvellous celebration backlit by hundreds of floodlights that dominated the pristine ship they surrounded. It was the GY-742, a prototype and proof-of-concept ship that the Ganrite Yards of Elrood had spent years engineering and fine-tuning, their toils culminating in the beautiful vessel that now lay silent in the shipyard's finishing lot. Here there were more than half a dozen other ships, some smaller some larger, some faster some slower - none drew crowds like the sleek profile and edgy paint scheme of the GY-742. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]It had been nicknamed 'The Raven' due in part to its paint scheme and was designed to outmanoeuvre and outclass any other freighters in its tonnage range, built to run through pickets with well-practised ease by utilizing a number of highly sophisticated stealth technologies and systems. Truly, it's maiden voyage was not a chance to miss for most.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Amongst the crowd there were mostly Ganrite employees, their time here paid for by their bosses overhead in order to beef the sizes of the crowds. Others too rounded out the numbers, prospective investors from across the Galaxy, journalists, star-gazers, even a couple notable politicians were on hand to campaign for their lightly contested runnings. All seemed to be running smoothly with private security guards keeping the crowd at ease and mostly just standing around, oblivious to any dangers in the Galaxy at all.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Of course, there were other eyes here too. Eyes far removed from the spectacle unfolding, watching through the lens of some hyper-magnified cybernetics and counting seconds as they ticked past in slow motion. Here, in the tranquillity of a much less occupied area several miles from the shipyards, a team of highly sought after professionals were busily engaged. Some were setting equipment, preparing a variety of sensors and aiming their receivers at the distant celebration. Others were heaving massive military-grade munitions, planting down their tripods and connecting wires to various computers. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Others still were planting high-explosive charges.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The trap would work for them, there was no real doubt about that. Anti-tampering tripwires were placed beneath every set-in sensor and munition, every avenue of approach was carefully funnelled and disguised, mines placed in secret and left for the soon-to-be-arriving security forces. It would be the scene of the most sophisticated terrorist attack this planet had ever endured- all it would take were a couple more minutes.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Amongst the shadowy men and women was a single figure who stood alone, his back to the activities and his eyes on the festivities that were taking place several miles away. He stood beside a second figure, one cutting a noticeably less imposing stature as his own, and together they kept witness with their cybernetic eyes.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]"Is the transmission set to go?"[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] Asked the larger figure, his voice a gravelly mess that fluxed with electronic modulation and came out broken and garish. There was no need for him to turn, the apprentice at his side was the only person here that had ever even heard the man's voice.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]"Yes,"[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] Oozed the female companion, her own voice low and serpentine and etched with the darkness that pervaded her personality.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]"Good,"[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] A single syllable, the most encouraging reply that his companion could hope for. From there the pair were silent and split as the aged cyborg man stepped forward away from the bustle of the operation, easing his way down a single switchback flight of stairs, through a heavy durasteel door and into a deathly quiet area he'd secured just for himself. In his hand he held a holo-communicator, it's chipped and busted exterior hiding the power that it contained within. Heavily modified, the device allowed almost untraceable encrypted message links to be established with the one man in the galaxy that the old man cared to speak to.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Memphis Mallix.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]At home in Elshandruu Pica the man himself was napping. Comfortably reclined in the most luxurious piece of furniture he allowed himself- the cybernetic warlord was at peace inside and out; Business was moving along swimmingly and his stomach was chalk full of delicacies he'd bought from the casino below. Room service was never more than a call away, and he tended to award himself with hearty meals and heartless women at fairly frequent intervals whenever he found himself buried in work at the office.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The desk before him glowed with the slumbering display he'd powered down, it's soft luminescence casting shadows across his sleeping form that would have terrified any lesser being. All sharp angles and glaring metal, his bare cybernetic arms coaxing all manner of horrendous artwork in the minds of many who saw him. There was a chime and the hologram burst to life, a grainy superimposed silhouette greeting the placard of his title- avatars that both Malice and Saito used on the specific channel they were utilizing. It was secured, at least the men and women he paid to know such things said it was, and he came to life with a hard inhalation of breath that chased away the fleeting images of a battlefield far away.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]"Sir,"[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] Came the garbled electronic voice, Saito didn't even really need the voice changer, his own vocal cords being overwhelming electronic, to begin with.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]"Speak,"[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] Came Malice's reply, his form straightening up in his chair, bringing his bare feet from the desktop he'd set them upon and now down into the exotic animal fur that lined the floor beneath his desk. The reply came instantaneously, the minor latency between the participants null and void in the face of their repeated process. Always the same call, and always the same greeting, it never seemed to grow stale.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]"Preparations set, awaiting your orders,"[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] Memphis could practically see the aged man's head bowed in deep respect, even with the blanket silhouette that was superimposed upon his image, the two held a great deal of history between them and even with encrypted transmissions, garbled voices, and shadowy avatars their presences were indistinguishable.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]"Commence. Out,"[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] The line cut dead at the words and the dull glow of the holodisplay returned once more to cast the heavyset man in a villainous shade. Distant eyes bore holes into the carpeting, a weight settling upon Malice's shoulders as he acknowledged the pain and suffering that was to come. Such was the price of business.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]---------------------------------------------------------------[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]While the GY-742 powered on, a soft hum emitting from the heavily modified reactors within, a speaker was addressing the cluster of onlookers. He spoke with brevity about the measure that Ganrite had taken in developing such a modern piece of equipment, it's process being arduous and expensive. How the ship could dance circles around any starships in mass-production and how it was a revolutionary step on the battlefield.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Meanwhile, the operatives were in the final stages of their own process. The pieces had been assembled, the small outpost of electronics was prepared and double checked and most of the non-essential staff had vacated, leaving only a handful of combatants to man the harpoons. Across the horizon, the distant celebration was drawing to a close, and in the outpost, their sensors were set to passive and locked upon the faraway ship. No more than a moments notice would be given, less time than possible for anyone in the pilot's seat to react.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]In time the speeches came to a halt and the lift-off was announced. A countdown from ten began immediately to make good on the christening that the ship had received. The Raven was officially completed, and within seconds it would be taking its maiden voyage. Above it the skies were clear, a bright summer day had made its party even sweeter and below, as it rose to meet the space beyond, the crowd had erupted into a marvellous cheer.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The impact was astonishing. No warning had come up on the pilot's heads-up display as two missiles tore across the space between the outpost and the landing and collided magnificently into the side of The Raven's hull. No shielding had been a major design flaw, and clearly, it's defences left much to be desired as the flight burst into a ball of fire that rained searing metal across the onlookers below. Fires erupted spontaneously as the debris hit everything below and the once jubilant spectators now recoiled in shock and fled in all directions with abject horror.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Seconds turned to minutes turned to hours before the security teams had finally pinpointed the location that the missiles had been fired from. Clearly stunned by the sheer carnage that had transpired, their forces were exhausted both by the evacuation they had overseen and the measures they had implemented following the attack. When they arrived the terrorists had long since fled, and the day just continued to deteriorate by the minute.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]By end of day hundreds were dead and thousands were maimed.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]It had been nicknamed 'The Raven' due in part to its paint scheme and was designed to outmanoeuvre and outclass any other freighters in its tonnage range, built to run through pickets with well-practised ease by utilizing a number of highly sophisticated stealth technologies and systems. Truly, it's maiden voyage was not a chance to miss for most.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Amongst the crowd there were mostly Ganrite employees, their time here paid for by their bosses overhead in order to beef the sizes of the crowds. Others too rounded out the numbers, prospective investors from across the Galaxy, journalists, star-gazers, even a couple notable politicians were on hand to campaign for their lightly contested runnings. All seemed to be running smoothly with private security guards keeping the crowd at ease and mostly just standing around, oblivious to any dangers in the Galaxy at all.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Of course, there were other eyes here too. Eyes far removed from the spectacle unfolding, watching through the lens of some hyper-magnified cybernetics and counting seconds as they ticked past in slow motion. Here, in the tranquillity of a much less occupied area several miles from the shipyards, a team of highly sought after professionals were busily engaged. Some were setting equipment, preparing a variety of sensors and aiming their receivers at the distant celebration. Others were heaving massive military-grade munitions, planting down their tripods and connecting wires to various computers. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Others still were planting high-explosive charges.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The trap would work for them, there was no real doubt about that. Anti-tampering tripwires were placed beneath every set-in sensor and munition, every avenue of approach was carefully funnelled and disguised, mines placed in secret and left for the soon-to-be-arriving security forces. It would be the scene of the most sophisticated terrorist attack this planet had ever endured- all it would take were a couple more minutes.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Amongst the shadowy men and women was a single figure who stood alone, his back to the activities and his eyes on the festivities that were taking place several miles away. He stood beside a second figure, one cutting a noticeably less imposing stature as his own, and together they kept witness with their cybernetic eyes.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]"Is the transmission set to go?"[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] Asked the larger figure, his voice a gravelly mess that fluxed with electronic modulation and came out broken and garish. There was no need for him to turn, the apprentice at his side was the only person here that had ever even heard the man's voice.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]"Yes,"[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] Oozed the female companion, her own voice low and serpentine and etched with the darkness that pervaded her personality.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]"Good,"[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] A single syllable, the most encouraging reply that his companion could hope for. From there the pair were silent and split as the aged cyborg man stepped forward away from the bustle of the operation, easing his way down a single switchback flight of stairs, through a heavy durasteel door and into a deathly quiet area he'd secured just for himself. In his hand he held a holo-communicator, it's chipped and busted exterior hiding the power that it contained within. Heavily modified, the device allowed almost untraceable encrypted message links to be established with the one man in the galaxy that the old man cared to speak to.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Memphis Mallix.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]At home in Elshandruu Pica the man himself was napping. Comfortably reclined in the most luxurious piece of furniture he allowed himself- the cybernetic warlord was at peace inside and out; Business was moving along swimmingly and his stomach was chalk full of delicacies he'd bought from the casino below. Room service was never more than a call away, and he tended to award himself with hearty meals and heartless women at fairly frequent intervals whenever he found himself buried in work at the office.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The desk before him glowed with the slumbering display he'd powered down, it's soft luminescence casting shadows across his sleeping form that would have terrified any lesser being. All sharp angles and glaring metal, his bare cybernetic arms coaxing all manner of horrendous artwork in the minds of many who saw him. There was a chime and the hologram burst to life, a grainy superimposed silhouette greeting the placard of his title- avatars that both Malice and Saito used on the specific channel they were utilizing. It was secured, at least the men and women he paid to know such things said it was, and he came to life with a hard inhalation of breath that chased away the fleeting images of a battlefield far away.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]"Sir,"[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] Came the garbled electronic voice, Saito didn't even really need the voice changer, his own vocal cords being overwhelming electronic, to begin with.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]"Speak,"[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] Came Malice's reply, his form straightening up in his chair, bringing his bare feet from the desktop he'd set them upon and now down into the exotic animal fur that lined the floor beneath his desk. The reply came instantaneously, the minor latency between the participants null and void in the face of their repeated process. Always the same call, and always the same greeting, it never seemed to grow stale.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]"Preparations set, awaiting your orders,"[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] Memphis could practically see the aged man's head bowed in deep respect, even with the blanket silhouette that was superimposed upon his image, the two held a great deal of history between them and even with encrypted transmissions, garbled voices, and shadowy avatars their presences were indistinguishable.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]"Commence. Out,"[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] The line cut dead at the words and the dull glow of the holodisplay returned once more to cast the heavyset man in a villainous shade. Distant eyes bore holes into the carpeting, a weight settling upon Malice's shoulders as he acknowledged the pain and suffering that was to come. Such was the price of business.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]---------------------------------------------------------------[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]While the GY-742 powered on, a soft hum emitting from the heavily modified reactors within, a speaker was addressing the cluster of onlookers. He spoke with brevity about the measure that Ganrite had taken in developing such a modern piece of equipment, it's process being arduous and expensive. How the ship could dance circles around any starships in mass-production and how it was a revolutionary step on the battlefield.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Meanwhile, the operatives were in the final stages of their own process. The pieces had been assembled, the small outpost of electronics was prepared and double checked and most of the non-essential staff had vacated, leaving only a handful of combatants to man the harpoons. Across the horizon, the distant celebration was drawing to a close, and in the outpost, their sensors were set to passive and locked upon the faraway ship. No more than a moments notice would be given, less time than possible for anyone in the pilot's seat to react.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]In time the speeches came to a halt and the lift-off was announced. A countdown from ten began immediately to make good on the christening that the ship had received. The Raven was officially completed, and within seconds it would be taking its maiden voyage. Above it the skies were clear, a bright summer day had made its party even sweeter and below, as it rose to meet the space beyond, the crowd had erupted into a marvellous cheer.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]The impact was astonishing. No warning had come up on the pilot's heads-up display as two missiles tore across the space between the outpost and the landing and collided magnificently into the side of The Raven's hull. No shielding had been a major design flaw, and clearly, it's defences left much to be desired as the flight burst into a ball of fire that rained searing metal across the onlookers below. Fires erupted spontaneously as the debris hit everything below and the once jubilant spectators now recoiled in shock and fled in all directions with abject horror.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Seconds turned to minutes turned to hours before the security teams had finally pinpointed the location that the missiles had been fired from. Clearly stunned by the sheer carnage that had transpired, their forces were exhausted both by the evacuation they had overseen and the measures they had implemented following the attack. When they arrived the terrorists had long since fled, and the day just continued to deteriorate by the minute.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]By end of day hundreds were dead and thousands were maimed.[/SIZE]
