| Author |
Emergent Property |
Drafell
Grand Admiral
Mythica
Joined: May 30, 2003
Posts: 2449
From: United Kingdom
|  Posted: 2006-03-30 17:36
Introduction.
I wish to tell you a story. Or perhaps I should say I was asked to tell you a story. I was given the choice of where to begin, and where to end, and to include anything that I felt was of relevance to this remarkable tale. It is indeed remarkable, as I hope you will discover for yourselves.
What is my story about? What part do I play within it? You could say it is a story about my experiences and some of the challanges that I have been through. Or it could also be a story about the people whom, rather unwittingly, made these rather dramatic events unfold. So who am I to tell you about this story? I am someone who was there and involved. Not at the beginning, but nevertheless still a part of them. I think that I will let you see for yourselves...
Chapter 1.
The Institute is set in the middle of an immense estate. Each part of the estate carefully managed and tailored to take care of the Institute and the needs of those who work for her. Mottled silver-white buildings, like vast fungii growing out of canyon walls, overlooking the flat grey expanses of the many starports snuggled amongst the dense orange and violet vegetation of the Great Sea penninsula. A constant rumbling reverberating through the cold air as an army of heavy lifters ferry resources to and from orbital construction platforms littering the skies overhead. All with a singlular purpose, to design and manufacture the next generation of warships. A centralised melting pot of technologies and developments thrown together in a bid to provide that additional edge in the cold war against the Interstellar Cultural Confederation.
There had been peace for nearly half a decade, and major expansion of the Institute had only occured within the past year as an influx of new funding from the recently introduced Colonial Restoration Tax slowly filtered it way through the multiple tiers of the United Galactic Trade Organisations overly-beaurocratic government. The facility itself had nearly tripled in size during this time and the local economy had grown even more so. Tax breaks and subsidies were being offered for high-tech companies and start up enterprises willing move thier research facilities and bases of operations to Parcia, or indeed anywhere else within the Struve system.
Mallory stood gazing out over the penninsula, the wind tugging gently at his mousey brown hair, and the bitter cold causing little crystals of icy to form in the corners of his silver-lensed eyes. The apparent chaos of the multitude of criss-crossing twisting vapor trials never ceased to amaze him. Lifters would pass within meters of each other on take of and landing and while performing arial maneouvres, and although he had worked on programming some of the control systems that made all of this possible, he was constantly suprised that there were so few accidents. Within the last three months there had only been one fatality, and that had been due to one of the new pilots thinking she could do a better job of landing than the automated systems. The pilot would be coming out of rejuvenation therapy soon. Luckily her head had managed to survive pretty much intact, with only minor damage to her cranial lattice. She would no doubt be waking up only to face a gross-negligence tribunal and an demotion back to Midshipman.
He was interrupted in his thoughts by a repetitive highpitched squealing noise coming from behind him. He turned to see one of the pig-sized construction bots waiting to fit a sheet of reiinforced glass-composite into the window frame that he was currently occupying. Mallory reluctantly sighed, and made his way back inside the building, being careful to avoid the delicate machinery and components that were being installed into what would be his new office and workplace. As yet he was still waiting to hear what his latest assignment would be. Hopefully it would be something a little more interesting than updating the sewage management systems as he had been doing for the last two weeks. The contract he had been offered was excellent, yet it almost seemed like he had been working on it forever.
**Unfinished***
[ This Message was edited by: Drafell on 2006-03-30 17:45 ]
_________________
It's gone now, no longer here...Yet still I see, and still I fear.rnrn
rnrn
DarkSpace Developer - Retired
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