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Named after explorer Howard Stratos who discovered a breathable atmosphere on Banton IV’s moon in 2242 CE, the Stratos Lunar Colony has thrived on a major steel industry which supported the construction into one of the most popular lunar colonies in the galaxy. Its distance from Earth makes it more independent, numerous business tycoons taking advantage of this to freely expand their business empires on the colony’s rising economic value. It’s become the dwelling grounds for criminals, notably the more successful ones. It is home to a powerful criminal organization known only as the Syndicate. Its crime rate is high, a city engulfed in regular atrocities under the power of the crime lords and businessmen alike, assuming they aren’t one in the same. Its streets are mean, the people meaner
Posted: Wed Feb 18, 2015 9:57 pm
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It had been approximately four days, three hours, and seventy three minutes that the manhunt had gone on. Water rained down from the city skies, water droplets drenching the rooftops in great numbers. The skies thundered over and over, as if to sound the drums of strife, longing to calm the excited fires of Hades below, because death was coming, not as a welcoming hand to an old friend, but as a man who brought a cold reckoning in exchange for the generous hand to satisfy his greed. He turned his head, murmuring an inaudible phrase as he gazed below from the edge of the rooftop.
His target was named Harrison Murphy, an aged politician whom had formerly served the Syndicate—formerly. Murphy had decided it was time to betray them and sell the organization out to the government, surrendering some locations to the police. It was a poor and reckless move, even more foolish to assume that witness protection would be enough to hide him from the perils ahead; the man was likely drunk when he made the decision. Murphy knew the Syndicate would come for him, so he surrounded himself with officers and never went anywhere without them. He made one fatal mistake, he had chosen to go get his lovely little family. Murphy was an elderly man, about fifty-seven, had one daughter and a wife. It was honorable, but very foolish, as it opened a window. Murphy feared that if his family came to him, they’d be captured and used to bait him, so instead he took the bold option of coming to them. He hid his tracks well, and no regular man would be able to find their whereabouts in such a deep pool of lies and espionage, but fear had a funny way of letting the truth bleed out of those who knew too much. And nowadays the truth was to die for, literally.
Murphy’s original ties meant that his family still resided in Stratos, albeit hidden in a location where they weren’t expected to hide. In order to avoid the prevalent eyes of Syndicate agents, Murphy had taken it upon himself to incognito, only taking two bodyguards, guys that were lightly-armed and blended right in. Murphy was likely in a disguise, and he only received a vague description of whom the bodyguards would be, but that didn’t matter; it was relatively plain to keep an eye out for a man followed exclusively followed by two bodyguards entering a specific building within that area. He wasn’t quite sure which building, but he was at a good vantage point of the street. If there were anything going on, he’d certainly take notice. In just a few shorts minute, the cruiser came, the door being opened for him by one of the two men, and a man in a hooded coat stepping out. Deadlock watched carefully with his scope, though couldn’t get a fatal shot from the angle, causing him to lower his gun and take a more direct approach instead. He hovered over to the other building, finding a few windows on one side of the building. It was no wonder they chose that building in particular, there were only two windows.
His first instinct was to attempt drawing him out. He found the generator outside, throwing a disruptor towards it and causing a blackout inside the building. When it didn’t draw him out, he instead decided on using the dark as cover to enter the window. His heads-up display allowed him clear vision in the dark, to which he silently took down the guards in the room with a little poisonous smoke bomb. He proceeded to the hall, surprisingly empty, but his scanners were picking up movement in a certain room of that floor. Was it Murphy? He instead found four people, untrained, likely just normal citizens; simple takedowns did the trick. He was about to exit when he heard crying, though whoever was crying must’ve heard him cease his walking, because the crying suddenly stopped. Looking around, he spotted a closet. He readied his gun, opening the closet to find some adolescent female, perhaps fifteen years of age? From how she was dressed, it was safe to assume she was the daughter. Her first instinct was to make a plea. “Please, don’t hu—” He interrupted her by grabbing her shoulder and pulling her right up, covering her mouth with his hand before slamming her to the wall with his forearm at her neck and the pistol at her head. “You scream, you die.” When she nodded reluctantly, he took her by the shoulder again and shoved her forward. Did he really need her? No, but better her getting shot than him.
It had been four empty floors, though the last one remained above. As he made his way up, the lights turned back on; they must’ve had a backup generator ready. Just as expected, two gunmen, Murphy, and his wife were there when they proceeded up the steps. Deadlock made sure to head up with the gun right at the girl’s temple, the girl as a meat shield. Mrs. Murphy quickly gasped, looking at her husband and back at her daughter in horror. “He’s got her, Harry! You can’t let him!” Murphy glared at the bounty hunter. “What do you want from us?” he said in a worried tone. “Guns down and kick them over here, or I will blow her goddamn brain out,” threatened Deadlock. “Do as he says,” said Murphy, the gunmen dropping their guns and kicking them over. Underneath his helmet, Deadlock smiled, putting away his gun and picking up one of theirs, shooting the two bodyguards right at their foreheads, the wife screaming at the sudden homicides. “Please, I’ll give you anything you want, just don’t hurt my daughter,” he begged, falling to his knees. For a moment Deadlock was quiet, though the silence was quickly filled when he shot Mrs. Murphy and then Murphy himself when he raised his head. As he began to walk to the stairs, he paused. When he turned around, the girl had the pistol he just used to kill her family pointed right at him. “I’ll shoot,” she threatened. “No, you won’t,” he replied, walking back to her. “I’ll do it! You better stop right there!” she exclaimed. When he was right in front of her, she pulled the trigger, though it was unfortunately empty when she scanned it in panic. When she looked back up, his gun met her forehead. “I told you that you wouldn’t shoot. But I will…” When she screamed, he fired, splattering her brains on the nearest wall. “Amrin ronatma,” he insulted, speaking his native language, exiting the building. She couldn’t say he didn’t warn her what would’ve happened if she screamed. It didn’t really matter anyways; he already got paid.
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Exit to the Unknown!
Smooth Detective Captain
Skilled Detective
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vortex2365
Wheezing Gekko
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Posted: Fri Feb 27, 2015 2:39 pm
Hope_Mercy_Rose
Steven Harcrow
Steven looked up from his work at his office, it was neat and well kept much like himself, the only things of note was the picture of his family he had positioned on his desk. He had been planning to take the three of them on holiday to Earth the next time he managed to get some free time but every time he scheduled himself time something would come up and force him back to work. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the business, if he didn't like it he would stop, it was more that he had trouble balancing the different aspects of his life. He wondered how his wife was, she had moved out after a particularly vicious argument and since then hadn't spoken to him. It broke his heart being at ends with her, and if he found time he would have to apologise. His PA's voice broke his melancholy train of thought with the announcement of his next client. He straightened his suit and slicked back his hair before having him sent through.
He rose slightly as the man stormed into his office, "Mr Francis." He knew how the meeting was going to turn out already but he still had to go through the motions. "You stupid monkey. Do you have any idea what you have done?" Steven's brow furrowed slightly at the notion of being called a monkey, especially since he had done everything possible to help the man. "If you would like to take a seat we can discuss this like gentlemen." He motioned for the seat in front of him and then sat back down, waiting for him to sit. The man was a former child actor who had entrusted his accounts over to the company then despite all advice to the contrary invested in some bizarre herbal medicine that sunk faster than a submarine with open windows. "Listen to me you stupid ape, get my money back or I swear to got I will burn down your office with you inside." This was going well, thought Steven as he stood up and walked over to the window. Francis continued to vent while he opened the window to let in a little air. "Are you finished?" He asked, his voice was cold and immediately stopped the man from talking.
Steven straightened up and looked him dead in the eye, clearly tired of his insults. This was his office and he had no intention of being spoken down to by some jumped up kid who hadn't listen to his advice and was now up the creek. "Sit down!" Francis obeyed, there was a look in his eyes that showed his fear. "I know you borrowed from somewhere you shouldn't and now they want their money back. This is your bed, you have to lay in it. Everything you have left is in the account on the desk, I have terminated our contract and recommend that you use the back door on your way out as I saw them watching the building just now. I have taken care of the your outstanding debt with myself." He knew the man in front of him was more than likely going to be killed shortly and would rather cut him loose now before it was too late. Francis picked up his stuff and shambled out of the office, clearly spooked by the idea that someone was here for him. Steven sat down and took out his phone, it sprang across the desk displaying a list of his contacts. He put on his do not disturb and called his daughter. "Zarah?" He said as it connected.
XXXXXXXXZarah Harcrow The daughter of the Workaholic
Zarah was working on an application for advanced schooling when her father called her. Picking up her phone, she let the call connect, but she did not speak first. It was smart to allow the other to do the talking first, it helped confirm that the person was indeed who you thought they were. But she knew her father's voice, even if he was not around as often as she would have liked. Honestly, she had moved with her mother, when her mother had left. But she had moved back in with her dad, in order to make things fair. While her mother was indeed her best friend, she was a daddy's girl till the end. She wanted so very much to please him and make him proud. That is why she is applying for additional schooling, but not all of the places she was applying, were here. Some were elsewhere, and that was something she did not relish telling either of her parents. How would they react to her asking to leave? She was both curious and afraid, but school was important. Right? She was smart and had the potential to go further in life, if she made it a priority. But she was a bit worried, since she was worried that she could become like her father...
"Dad." She said in reply, her voice calm and a bit neutral. She was a bit confused, he rarely called at this time of day. He was usually busy with clients. "--is everything alright?" She asked. If something was wrong she would go straight to his office, in a heartbeat, though she had made it a habit not to go there. Her mother had actually not allowed her down there for many years, because her mother was a bit of a worry wort. But then again, her mother's family had been criminals so who better to know the possibilities, they her own dear mother? I wonder what her father was like..my grandfather? She doesn't talk about how he died, but I do get the feeling that it was a violent end. She's remained fairly shaken about it my entire life.. Her grandfather had died before she was really born, so she had never known him, but she gets the feeling that her parents wouldn't have liked her being around him anyway. Her parents wanted better for her, and she couldn't blame them. After all, she was an only child. Their only child. At seventeen, she was close to being out in the world by herself.
"Hey... One moment." He sounded a lot different when he was speaking to her and didn't really want anyone else from his office listening. He crossed the room quickly to shut the door then returned and sat down at his desk. "Sorry about that I just had to shut the door, I don't want Judy listening in and getting any ideas." Judy was his secretary and while she was very good at her job, he had forbid her from speaking to her mother while in the office, it was slightly hypocritical for him to do something so similar but he was the boss and this was a rare occasion. "Oh yeah, everything is fine. In fact I have some good news and I need some advice... And a favour. But first how are you? I feel like I saw you yesterday but... Maybe it wasn't yesterday." He opened his drawer and took out his dairy, he was quite different while he spoke to her, much friendlier than whenever he spoke to anyone else. "Either way." He realised that he didn't know when the last time he had actually spoken to her was, it was a real shame that he couldn't remember since they rarely spoke due to his work. "Oh, my news; I have managed to almost clear my schedule, I have one job but we can spend the rest of the day together... If you want." He had been urged to closed his office by his contacts in the Syndicate while his former client was hunted down, besides unless something crazy happened he could afford to take the day off. "If you have plans I could set up shop at home, I have been meaning to add those old files onto my new computer." He could always find something to do, but had decided to see if he could spend a little time with her.
XXXXXXXXZarah Harcrow The daughter of the Workaholic
Should she tell him? "Its been a week." She added softly, before she looked down at the papers she was filling out. "Yeah...I'd like that. Besides..I have some stuff I'd like to talk to you about." She kind of left it at that. She was waiting for the right moment to really address the topic of leaving. She wanted to train for a future career, a good one. She had not really quite decided what she wanted to be, but she had options. She continued talking on the phone a bit longer, then hung up, knowing that according to him, he wouldn't be too much longer. She put the papers away, after filling a few more out, and hid them in her room as if they were some dark, well hidden secret and perhaps, in a way, they were. After all, she had not even told her own mother yet, who was admittedly her best friend. She stood up, running her brush through her red hair. Her hair was a trait she'd inherited from her mother's side of the family, though her mother did not actually have the red hair herself. So in a way, it connected her to her maternal family. Kind of cool, really. But she was a very pretty seventeen, almost eighteen year old. She was lean, athletically built, with a nicely shaped face. She often wore the color red or black, depending on whether she wanted to dare drawing attention or not. In some places , it was better to blend in. All of those who lived here, knew it. It was a way of life here. Being smart, making careful choices.
"A week?!" He checked his dairy and sure enough it had been quite a while, between managing the merger of Frand Corp and making that franchise he really had been busy. As always he was a little saddened by the their lack of contact. They talked a little longer and as their conversation drew to a natural end he added. "Ah, good, I'll be home soon I just have to make a phone call; someone at Genesis tipped me off that they might be trying to make a play at acquiring some of my clients property without informing them. I'll see you soon." He let her hand up then dialled his contact at Genesis, his tone completely different as he took his serious approach to business. While he got along with the people in Genesis, he also knew they were like him; sharks that consume others to survive, while he turned his attention to big things and let other hang off him they turned their teeth on the small and ate everything until there was nothing left. His telephone conversation lasted a little longer than he thought it would and ended with him agreeing to meet someone from the board to discuss the matter, but he had arranged that for another day so that it didn't clash with his father daughter time. He left the office and a lot later than he thought he would but it wasn't dark yet, he was thankful that he wasn't going to make a liar out of himself. But it wouldn't be the first time he would have let her down.
He arrived home and waved to one of his neighbours, a housewife that spent her time nosing in on other peoples business, giving bad advice and spreading idle gossip, it was better to keep her happy by acknowledging her than ignoring her and letting a torrent of rumors spread about him. What must they already say? He thought, wondering what sort of nonsense people said about him and his family. He stepped inside, he had visited a shop on his way back to get an apology gift for not seeing her for a week. "I'm home." He poked his head in the living room looking for Zarah while he took off his coat. "Anyone here?" He sighed, hoping that she hadn't decided to go out.
XXXXXXXXZarah Harcrow The daughter of the Workaholic
"Okay dad, see you soon." She hung up, and simply stood there for moment, in a bit of shock and awe. Would he actually show up this time? She walked out of her bedroom, to the nearby kitchen. She figured she needed to do something...make some sort of effort. SO why not cook for him? She decided on the cooking thing, but thought it best to wait a bit before she decided to start coking. First she had to see what they had in the house. Thankfully she had gone shopping only a day earlier, so they had plenty of food available. She picked out her ingredients and started to cook. She decided on a soup of sorts, which meant it took her a long time to get everything ready; lucky for him.
She was just finishing the soup when her dad got home. He was late, but she had figured that would happen. The table was set for the two of them. She filled two bowls with soup and set them down at the table, it was then that she noticed him. "Oh, hey." She spoke loudly enough for him to hear. "I've got some food made. You don't have to eat it but at least pretend, and move your spoon around in the bowl!" She joked, but honestly it was truthful. She wanted him to eat it, but she had no way of knowing whether he would even like it, or whether he had eaten recently or not. Best not to let it bother her. Best not to overthink it.
She sat down at her seat at the table. She gestured for him to join her, as she picked up her spoon to begin eating. Her red hair was naturally laying against her back in curls and waves, a lovely natural look she inherited from her mother. Like her mother, she could break hearts if she wanted to, she was lovely enough. But she had no interest in dating, and the boys around here knew it.
He was slightly relieved that she was here and not grown tired of waiting, he didn't exactly have the best track record and had cancelled plenty of dinner plans due to his work. "You cooked?" He asked, wondering how much of an effort she had put into this. It was probably not normal that she had to put in so much effort, most families probably ate together so often that they lost interest in each other and the very idea of eating alone was appealing. He picked up the bag containing his gift and stepped inside the dining room, "I got you this on the way back home, I don't know if you'll like it but if you don't I kept the receipt." He took a seat across from her, her mothers place hadn't been made which was expected but still hard for him to see. The gift was a teddy bear, clearly marketed towards children but since in his opinion nobody ever outgrew teddies or any soft toy really, she would probably like it. He picked up the spoon and brought it to his mouth, it was good, a lot better than the food pastes and pills he generally lived off. "This is great, when did you get so good at cooking." He finished off the soup, not realising how hungry he had been or how much his body needed real sustenance. "Is there anymore?" He did have things he wanted to talk to her about but food came first before he had to dampen the atmosphere.
XXXXXXXXZarah Harcrow The daughter of the Workaholic
She nodded, as she continued eat,but she did pause to accept the fit. She pulled the teddy bear out of the bag. "Thank you, its adorable." She set the gift down and listened to him speak. He actually seemed pleased with the food, which was great. "Mom taught me." Several years ago. But best not to mention that. She went back to eating and when asked if there was more, she immediately got up and filled his bowl once more, returning it to the table momentarily. She kept thinking about the papers as she ate. She wanted to talk about it, but she also wanted her father to not only be paying perfect attention. After all, if he was not focused on it , it could turn into a nightmare for them both and she did not want that.
When she was finished eating, she waited for him, then took is bowl as well as her own to the kitchen sink where she washed them and put them away. She then returned to the table, where she served them both some pie. Nothing to fancy, of course, since she had actually just bought this rather then baked it. "Here, father."
"I'm glad you like it." He smiled, he always found getting gifts for people difficult, sure he gave out gift baskets to his clients sometimes but that hardly counted. "Speaking of your mother, how is she?" He had tried calling her but it hadn't connected for whatever reason, since he didn't feel like starting some sort of conflict, he had left it and intended to try again later if she didn't get back to him. He knew that she was close to her mother but didn't want her to think that he was using her as a spy, he was just interested in how his wife was. He moved backward to let her put the food down in front of him. "Ah, thanks." He started eating. "So did you do anything interesting today? You haven't started worshipping a bunch of crazy gods have you?" He grinned, his worst client believed that he had to continuously impress a bunch of cosmic beings by continuously doing interesting things. That and his unpredictable nature made for a dangerous combination. "I saw a semi famous child actor." He didn't elaborate on the specifics as it would probably paint him in a poor light.
XXXXXXXXZarah Harcrow The daughter of the Workaholic
She laughed slightly. No, she had not started worshiping any crazy god or anything of that nature. "She's good. Very busy cooking." Her mother was a wonderful cook and she greatly enjoyed finding new recipes and cooking for people. She was a good person. "I actually do have something I would like to discuss with you. Ive been waiting." She paused, just long enough to gather her thoughts without panicking him. She didnt want him thinking she was about to confess her love or someone or some unplanned pregnancy. Neither of those were the reason for this. "I have been filling out applications to attend school..." She sort of left it at that.
He smiled slightly at the news that his wife was in good health, he still cared even if he didn't show it as much as he would have liked. "Oh?" He looked up, suddenly alert, he could have an active imagination when it came to his daughter. A large part of him knew she was sensible enough not to get involved in drugs or with psychopaths but on this colony temptation was around every corner and it took a heart of solid stone to resist everything. Despite his initial response he didn't immediately start asking a bunch of questions, if there was anything he had learned from his clients it was nobody liked being grilled until they had dropped the bomb. He breathed a sigh of relief when she said she was filling out applications, all things considered school wasn't that big a deal, at least she hadn't just committed murder and was hoping he could hide the body. "I see." He responded so that he could think it over slightly before answering. "Good. I had assumed that you would eventually go to university, see a world that isn't chin deep in corruption and then one day finally take over my firm." He didn't meant to sound like he had a plan set out for her, it was just what he had imagined would eventually happen. "Which schools are you applying for?" He had a lot of contacts and a fair few professors, if she needed help he could always call in a few favours for her.
XXXXXXXXZarah Harcrow The daughter of the Workaholic
At least he didnt jump to any conclusions, but then again that was her father. He was the carful calculating type. Smart enough to realize that his daughter didn't roll with the bad crowd. In fact, she'd always done very well in keeping out of trouble. The same could not be said for others. "Some of them are not here...a law school , a more generalized school, and then there is a marketing university. But I am leaning towards the law school." She would have to take a few entrance exams, but her previous grades when it came to schooling were high enough for her to get admittance, assuming she passed the entrance exams. This school was off world however. But it was easy to know which school she was talking about because there was only one law school that was well known in the nearby vicinity. Off world, but still closer then others. And it was a really good school. But she wasn't all that surprised to hear that her father seemed convinced that she would one day take over his firm. "I haven't told mom yet. I already sent in the applications." She was just finishing up her secondary applications. Always better to make sure you have back up plans in place for such important things as this.
"Law?" He asked innocently, he knew a fair few lawyers, solicitors, judges and legal aids and they ranked second on his hierarchy of corruption, just below priests. The list didn't include actual criminals as they would obviously break the scale, councillors were also omitted due to his own prejudices, but the point still stood. "Are you sure? You can have any career. How about mechanical engineering or I could show you how to be a business consultant. I'll give you one of my clients and you can try and make them three hundred per cent profit in a year." It wasn't an unreasonable feat with his guidance. He just wanted to make sure she was serious about pursuing a career in law before encouraging her, the last thing he wanted was for her to start that down that dark path only to realise that she didn't have the heart for it. "Being a lawyer is a words game, you need to be able to remember long text books and research clauses. If you do it, I wont give you my business. But if your happy it shouldn't matter." He smiled, but he was being kind as he could and giving her fair warning.
