It Begins.
The mood on Tavros can be felt in the filtered air that hums out of its vents onto the merchant deck. Gawkers and hawkers of wares call out of their various shops as they try to entice the populace nearby with the temptations of gene mods and fine foods. The number of people on the deck is probably twice what it should be on any given day. What could be the reason?
It becomes apparent when you see the flyers that have been plastered the walls and occasionally are scattered about on the floor. You probably even have a flier sent to you via extranet now that you think about it. Today is the day mentioned by the fliers that Steele tech would be holding a charity concert. A space had been erected to host a massive stage. Large screens hanging overhead displayed the stage hands busy setting up before the show finally begins.
As you look on, you can over hear the thoughts of the populous.
“I heard Victor Steele will be hosting.”
“He chose an heir recently.”
“How many of his children are here?”
“My dad told me that Victor was my mom. Yeah, it's a weird story.”
Moments later throng erupts in wild cheers as an older, surprisingly dashing gentleman takes to the stage. His snow white hair is the only thing that betrays his age, as his youthful skin has no doubt been preserved through the ages through gene mods. The ovation continues for minutes unabated, before Victor raises his hands to try and silence the crowd. “Hello Tavros Station.” His voice echoes across the speakers just barely louder than the cheers of the multitude.
He a sly grin sneaks across his lips as the crowd grows silent.
“It looks like we’re at the beginning of another Planet Rush. I’m just as excited to be here as you are.” He begins to explain. “I really have to thank the local leadership of Tavros for letting us set this up. We at Steele tech really want to support this planet rush, and I’m sure you’ve heard that many of my children will be taking part in it - but I would like to invite you all to come explore the wonders of these new worlds with me.”
The crowd bursts out into deafening cheers. Once the crowd quiets down again Victor Steele begins to speak lengthily about the virtues of the planet rush. He pours civic praise upon the United Galactic Federacy, and soon his topic begins to grow prophetic as he speaks of what the future may hold. As he talks he you notice a disturbance to your right. A hooded figure has pulled something out from their cloak. Honestly you can’t believe that someone would think that wearing a brown cloak with a hood over their heads could possibly help draw attention away from themselves on a modern place like Tavros, but it seems no one else is watching this stranger.
It seems almost too fast for you to realize what happens. The hooded figure shoulders a carbine, and with a single loud crack, the cheers of an adoring crowd quickly become screams. The Victor Steele’s barrier crackles, but you soon realize that it is dissipating, and that his head is lolled backwards. His body falls limply to the stage. Victor Steele, the legendary planet rusher, was dead.
Your attention turns back to the hooded figure. They are still present, but it seems that they have plans to make an escape. The figure quickly breaks down their gun and tosses its pieces into a trash receptacle before proceeding to away walk unchallenged. It seems the authorities have either not noticed are tied up trying to manage the panicking throng which has begun to threatened stampede. Where the authorities fail, and the hearts of civilized races waver, you are still here, and you are close enough to do something about this unknown figure.
The mood on Tavros can be felt in the filtered air that hums out of its vents onto the merchant deck. Gawkers and hawkers of wares call out of their various shops as they try to entice the populace nearby with the temptations of gene mods and fine foods. The number of people on the deck is probably twice what it should be on any given day. What could be the reason?
It becomes apparent when you see the flyers that have been plastered the walls and occasionally are scattered about on the floor. You probably even have a flier sent to you via extranet now that you think about it. Today is the day mentioned by the fliers that Steele tech would be holding a charity concert. A space had been erected to host a massive stage. Large screens hanging overhead displayed the stage hands busy setting up before the show finally begins.
As you look on, you can over hear the thoughts of the populous.
“I heard Victor Steele will be hosting.”
“He chose an heir recently.”
“How many of his children are here?”
“My dad told me that Victor was my mom. Yeah, it's a weird story.”
Moments later throng erupts in wild cheers as an older, surprisingly dashing gentleman takes to the stage. His snow white hair is the only thing that betrays his age, as his youthful skin has no doubt been preserved through the ages through gene mods. The ovation continues for minutes unabated, before Victor raises his hands to try and silence the crowd. “Hello Tavros Station.” His voice echoes across the speakers just barely louder than the cheers of the multitude.
He a sly grin sneaks across his lips as the crowd grows silent.
“It looks like we’re at the beginning of another Planet Rush. I’m just as excited to be here as you are.” He begins to explain. “I really have to thank the local leadership of Tavros for letting us set this up. We at Steele tech really want to support this planet rush, and I’m sure you’ve heard that many of my children will be taking part in it - but I would like to invite you all to come explore the wonders of these new worlds with me.”
The crowd bursts out into deafening cheers. Once the crowd quiets down again Victor Steele begins to speak lengthily about the virtues of the planet rush. He pours civic praise upon the United Galactic Federacy, and soon his topic begins to grow prophetic as he speaks of what the future may hold. As he talks he you notice a disturbance to your right. A hooded figure has pulled something out from their cloak. Honestly you can’t believe that someone would think that wearing a brown cloak with a hood over their heads could possibly help draw attention away from themselves on a modern place like Tavros, but it seems no one else is watching this stranger.
It seems almost too fast for you to realize what happens. The hooded figure shoulders a carbine, and with a single loud crack, the cheers of an adoring crowd quickly become screams. The Victor Steele’s barrier crackles, but you soon realize that it is dissipating, and that his head is lolled backwards. His body falls limply to the stage. Victor Steele, the legendary planet rusher, was dead.
Your attention turns back to the hooded figure. They are still present, but it seems that they have plans to make an escape. The figure quickly breaks down their gun and tosses its pieces into a trash receptacle before proceeding to away walk unchallenged. It seems the authorities have either not noticed are tied up trying to manage the panicking throng which has begun to threatened stampede. Where the authorities fail, and the hearts of civilized races waver, you are still here, and you are close enough to do something about this unknown figure.
