From: marsquinn@aol.com (Mars Quinn)
Date: 28 Oct 1998 11:02:18 EST
The judge ruled right away from the motion made to adjourn the court the day before. "Based on the evidence placed before this court, I must say that the port authority has more than overstepped the bounds of good police work and gone into violating the rights of legitimate citizens with here say and circumstantial evidence. It is the finding of this court that there is not enough evidence to warrant further wasting of the court's or Mr.
Maran's time. This case is dismissed." She struck the gavel and dismissed the jury. Apollo stood up and shook hands with his young attorney. In the back of the room Mars sat with a woman who seemed rather pleased at the judges decision. Mars leaned over to whisper to her and walked her outside. Across the isle, a woman most would not recognize sat wearing her usual street smart clothes and a bracelet that matched the small piece of jewelry on
Apollo's left wrist. She quietly fell in with the crowd and headed out into the bright sunlight. Bishop heaved a sigh of relief and whispered something to his aside, Jackson. Both men chuckled and rose from their seats. Jemmy Mach waited to congratulate Apollo, shaking his hand and clapping him on the shoulder. The security tracker that had been placed on Apollo's right wrist had now been removed and he laughed and talked with many different
people as he made his way outside.
It was a bright clear day outside, the kind of fall day that makes one dread the coming of winter. The light seemed brighter than it had all spring and summer and the crisp chill on the breeze brought every sound and smell to vivid relief. It held the promise of a long winter. Some people gave a small cheer on seeing Apollo emerge from the courtroom in his trademark leather jacket. He looked to the curb to the metallic blue Chevy Camaro that he
had restored by hand. Sure there were a good deal many better ways to get around but none as stylish. A limo was parked just behind the sports car. Mars and the woman he had brought to the trial stood watching Apollo descend the stair of the court and make his way toward the car. She wore a look of delight, he a look of deep concern. Damaris smiled, despite herself from across the street as Apollo move around to the driver's door of the 1967
Camaro. Far down the street a large black man chuckled seeing this man emerge from another battle victorious. Apollo slipped in the car and fished for his keys. As he did Bishop started towards the car from his limo with the intention of shaking Apollo's hand. As Bishop neared the rear quarter panel and Apollo leaned over the steering wheel of the car, a cold chill passed over Jackson who bolted from the limo and rushed forward after Bishop.
Jackson reached out to Bishop, who was breaking into a smile as Apollo turned the key in the ignition of the Camaro. With the suddenness of leaping cat the car exploded. A huge ball of flame and smoke erupted towards the sky and shrapnel rained down on the crowd outside the courthouse. Everyone was knocked to the ground from the blast. People rose to their feet slowly, eyes fixed on the burning hulk that had been a car. No one spoke for what
seemed like an eternity. The woman with Mars gave a shriek and fell against him. A reporter that had been preparing to report the case leapt on the opportunity before him. He stood at a safe distance but with he burning hulk directly behind him.
"Tragedy today strikes yet another of RhyDin's populace. Apollo Maran, who had been acquitted of all charges brought against him was killed today by a vicious car bomb. We will have more on this story as details arrive."
The camera man grabbed up his camera and ran to the car to get more shots. Lying on the hood of a vehicle across the street was the body of Bishop Rahn, his finely tailored suit smoldering and straining with blood. The ruined body of Jackson lay on the street. Burned and obviously dead. In the flames of the car a body was clear, the sound of the fire trucks began to pierce the odd silence that surrounded the scene. The camera man crossed himself
and uttered a prayer for the dead. He rushed back to the production truck to get his footage on the air.
It was to be a long cold winter indeed.
You and me of the 10,000 wars.
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From: marsquinn@aol.com (Mars Quinn)
Date: 29 Oct 1998 11:30:14 EST
It was a long night.
Mars tallied the counts in his head. Officially two dead. 14 injured ranging from a critical status to minor bruises. He headed to the morgue for the body that had been identified as that of Apollo Maran. He resigned himself to what he believed as opposed to what he could prove and signed for the body to be cremated. The ashes would be scattered in space. Once the documents were signed, he headed back to the ICU. The body he sat beside was
wrapped in bandages, there were monitors regarding everything about his body, from brain waves to body temperature. The prognosis was not good, but doctors being who they were would not give up hope on the most injured victims survival. Mars went to a sleep cycle, the soft beeps of the monitors and the steady pulse of the breathing machine playing a queer lullaby of the fight between life and the great beyond. He had been admitted under a false
name. No one would know.
Perhaps it was better that everyone thought him dead because the chances of him leaving this hospital were slim. It was all a stupid stupid oversight on his part, because of his lack of planning correctly, a young man was dead, disfigured and unable to be displayed in a proper funeral. The news went on the screen as Mars processed the day and what would occur on the morrow.
"In local news, two dead and many more injured by a car bomb in the automobile of Apollo Maran. The bomb claimed the life of the local freighter pilot, acquitted of smuggling by a judge, and one David Jackson, personal assistant to a local businessman who was also severely injured. That businessman's condition is unknown although many speculate that no human being could survive such a proximity to such a massive blast. All of the glass in the
court building and in all the surrounding building was damaged in the blast. The police and port authority are investigating but have no leads at this time. We will continue to inform you as details arrive."
Date: 29 Oct 1998 11:30:14 EST
It was a long night.
Mars tallied the counts in his head. Officially two dead. 14 injured ranging from a critical status to minor bruises. He headed to the morgue for the body that had been identified as that of Apollo Maran. He resigned himself to what he believed as opposed to what he could prove and signed for the body to be cremated. The ashes would be scattered in space. Once the documents were signed, he headed back to the ICU. The body he sat beside was
wrapped in bandages, there were monitors regarding everything about his body, from brain waves to body temperature. The prognosis was not good, but doctors being who they were would not give up hope on the most injured victims survival. Mars went to a sleep cycle, the soft beeps of the monitors and the steady pulse of the breathing machine playing a queer lullaby of the fight between life and the great beyond. He had been admitted under a false
name. No one would know.
Perhaps it was better that everyone thought him dead because the chances of him leaving this hospital were slim. It was all a stupid stupid oversight on his part, because of his lack of planning correctly, a young man was dead, disfigured and unable to be displayed in a proper funeral. The news went on the screen as Mars processed the day and what would occur on the morrow.
"In local news, two dead and many more injured by a car bomb in the automobile of Apollo Maran. The bomb claimed the life of the local freighter pilot, acquitted of smuggling by a judge, and one David Jackson, personal assistant to a local businessman who was also severely injured. That businessman's condition is unknown although many speculate that no human being could survive such a proximity to such a massive blast. All of the glass in the
court building and in all the surrounding building was damaged in the blast. The police and port authority are investigating but have no leads at this time. We will continue to inform you as details arrive."
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From: marsquinn@aol.com (Mars Quinn)
Date: 30 Oct 1998 12:48:24 EST
A camera man's work is never done. Hank had been reviewing the tape he had shot at the courthouse for the last two days. Today he was reviewing a two second segment of film frame by frame enhancing every bit he could. Peter, the reporter that he had been assigned to stepped into the editing room. "C'mon Hank. We made it. Why do you keep hanging out in here?"
"Because something here isn't right. Here, have a look." He played the frames slowly. His focus was the car. As the explosion slowly ate the car a flask of pink light, almost muted by the fireball swallowing the car, filled the interior of the car. "What the hell is that flash?"
"I have no idea Hank." Peter shrugged. "Maybe something special to make sure the driver didn't leave. Some sort of deatomizer thing, maybe."
"Don't patronize me you pedantic twit. Something is wrong here and I want to know what."
"Hank we've hit the big time, just be content in that ok?" Leaving the cameraman a bit deflated and unable to resolve the question in his mind, Peter headed into the studio. The producers voice sounded out.
"Well he did show." The director ran behind the camera.
"We are back from commercial in three, two..." the director held up a finger an pointed to the perky anchor woman.
"And now for more on the bombing is our own Peter DeBerg."
"Thank you Joan. Violence has become more and more common in the Spaceport area of RhyDin, but two days ago the stakes were raised with a bombing just outside the very building that stands for law and order. This morning a memorial was held for one of those victims, David Jackson. A youth of nineteen, he was killed because of his proximity to the blast. Police today have arrested three possible suspects in the bombing. All have strong ties to
the infamous Don Carlouchi, who got is start running the gambling houses that profited off of the early days of the sports in lower RhyDin, most epically the Duel of Swords. The authorities are remaining tight-lipped about the extent of their questioning and exactly who the suspects are but they are saying that the blast was most likely because the intended victim, the late Apollo Maran, refused to join the Don's smuggling organization. Services
for the trader will be held tonight at 9 pm by the eastern standard. All inquires about the service should be directed to Mars Quinn. Police promise to have the case resolved with in the week. Until then RhyDin remains constantly reminded that these streets are never truly safe for any of us. Joan."
"Thank you Peter. And now for the weather our own Cathy Rolma..."
In the editing room, Hank reviewed the small section of tape again, trying vainly to increase what he could see inside the car.
Date: 30 Oct 1998 12:48:24 EST
A camera man's work is never done. Hank had been reviewing the tape he had shot at the courthouse for the last two days. Today he was reviewing a two second segment of film frame by frame enhancing every bit he could. Peter, the reporter that he had been assigned to stepped into the editing room. "C'mon Hank. We made it. Why do you keep hanging out in here?"
"Because something here isn't right. Here, have a look." He played the frames slowly. His focus was the car. As the explosion slowly ate the car a flask of pink light, almost muted by the fireball swallowing the car, filled the interior of the car. "What the hell is that flash?"
"I have no idea Hank." Peter shrugged. "Maybe something special to make sure the driver didn't leave. Some sort of deatomizer thing, maybe."
"Don't patronize me you pedantic twit. Something is wrong here and I want to know what."
"Hank we've hit the big time, just be content in that ok?" Leaving the cameraman a bit deflated and unable to resolve the question in his mind, Peter headed into the studio. The producers voice sounded out.
"Well he did show." The director ran behind the camera.
"We are back from commercial in three, two..." the director held up a finger an pointed to the perky anchor woman.
"And now for more on the bombing is our own Peter DeBerg."
"Thank you Joan. Violence has become more and more common in the Spaceport area of RhyDin, but two days ago the stakes were raised with a bombing just outside the very building that stands for law and order. This morning a memorial was held for one of those victims, David Jackson. A youth of nineteen, he was killed because of his proximity to the blast. Police today have arrested three possible suspects in the bombing. All have strong ties to
the infamous Don Carlouchi, who got is start running the gambling houses that profited off of the early days of the sports in lower RhyDin, most epically the Duel of Swords. The authorities are remaining tight-lipped about the extent of their questioning and exactly who the suspects are but they are saying that the blast was most likely because the intended victim, the late Apollo Maran, refused to join the Don's smuggling organization. Services
for the trader will be held tonight at 9 pm by the eastern standard. All inquires about the service should be directed to Mars Quinn. Police promise to have the case resolved with in the week. Until then RhyDin remains constantly reminded that these streets are never truly safe for any of us. Joan."
"Thank you Peter. And now for the weather our own Cathy Rolma..."
In the editing room, Hank reviewed the small section of tape again, trying vainly to increase what he could see inside the car.
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From: prlunicorn@aol.com (PrlUnicorn)
Date: 30 Oct 1998 13:56:41 EST
"The authorities are remaining tight-lipped about the extent of their questioning and exactly who the suspects are but they are saying that the blast was most likely because the intended victim, the late Apollo Maran, refused to join the Don's smuggling organization. Services
for the trader will be held tonight at 9 pm by the eastern standard. All inquires about the service should be directed to Mars Quinn. Police promise to have the case resolved with in the week. Until then RhyDin remains constantly reminded that these streets are never truly safe for any of us. Joan."
The news report turned Collie's head to say the least, she had videotaped the news to watch later. Her jaw started to quiver as she heard that 'Lo was dead. The wine glass in her hand slipped to the floor, the chablis soaked into the carpet. Collie replayed the tape to make sure she heard it right. She remembered when she first saw him, sitting in the Star's End. He had shoulders as big as an ox and the attitude to match. A chill ran up her spine as
she remembered that damned leather jacket, he practically lived in the thing. The silver skull on it was an emblem of the GDS and was one most things associated with them. Nikki had called it the dead face, she was all of two at the time.
Something about the whole thing struck her as odd. She remembered the heart-to-heart talks, "Few could picture him doing that," she thought to herself. Collie couldn't get it through her head that a man with so much moxie could be dead, but even his chutzpah couldn't get him out of this one. "Moxie," she muttered, "dammit, flyboy, I knew you would end up dead if you kept it up."
As was her way, Collie buried her feelings about it and wondered when she would hear from his attorney regarding Mount Olympus Stable. As she looked in on her new son, Draven, and his sister, Rachael, something triggered in her memory. If he had any idea what she'd done, it was a toss up if he'd have been pissed or happy. A fast phone call was made and connected to the labs at Red Star Station. The vials she'd placed in the cryogenic lab's care were
intact and the seals unbroken.
She sent a letter to Mars Quinn in regard to the memorial after all at the very least she was a business associate. Collie had missed too many chances to say goodbye over the years.
Date: 30 Oct 1998 13:56:41 EST
"The authorities are remaining tight-lipped about the extent of their questioning and exactly who the suspects are but they are saying that the blast was most likely because the intended victim, the late Apollo Maran, refused to join the Don's smuggling organization. Services
for the trader will be held tonight at 9 pm by the eastern standard. All inquires about the service should be directed to Mars Quinn. Police promise to have the case resolved with in the week. Until then RhyDin remains constantly reminded that these streets are never truly safe for any of us. Joan."
The news report turned Collie's head to say the least, she had videotaped the news to watch later. Her jaw started to quiver as she heard that 'Lo was dead. The wine glass in her hand slipped to the floor, the chablis soaked into the carpet. Collie replayed the tape to make sure she heard it right. She remembered when she first saw him, sitting in the Star's End. He had shoulders as big as an ox and the attitude to match. A chill ran up her spine as
she remembered that damned leather jacket, he practically lived in the thing. The silver skull on it was an emblem of the GDS and was one most things associated with them. Nikki had called it the dead face, she was all of two at the time.
Something about the whole thing struck her as odd. She remembered the heart-to-heart talks, "Few could picture him doing that," she thought to herself. Collie couldn't get it through her head that a man with so much moxie could be dead, but even his chutzpah couldn't get him out of this one. "Moxie," she muttered, "dammit, flyboy, I knew you would end up dead if you kept it up."
As was her way, Collie buried her feelings about it and wondered when she would hear from his attorney regarding Mount Olympus Stable. As she looked in on her new son, Draven, and his sister, Rachael, something triggered in her memory. If he had any idea what she'd done, it was a toss up if he'd have been pissed or happy. A fast phone call was made and connected to the labs at Red Star Station. The vials she'd placed in the cryogenic lab's care were
intact and the seals unbroken.
She sent a letter to Mars Quinn in regard to the memorial after all at the very least she was a business associate. Collie had missed too many chances to say goodbye over the years.
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From: marsquinn@aol.com (Mars Quinn)
Date: 01 Nov 1998 04:01:23 EST
Hank had fallen asleep in the editing room, the night before. Dave, a veteran reporter, was asking him what had kept him up. Hank explained the odd flash and went on telling the reporter about the feeling of wrongness about it all. Dave wanted to know if Hank wanted a new assignment. Peter was meanwhile grooming himself in his cubical before he heard the sound of his rising career deflating on the bullpen monitor.
"In local news today, know mobster Ringo Macharcsi was arrested for the bombing of four days ago which claimed two lives. As memorial services were being held for Apollo Maran, police made the arrest of the bomber..." A recording of a detective played.
"We are pleased to begin an earnest crackdown on these undesirable elements in our community and want to send a strong message to organized crime that this port and this city will not accept such cruel acts of violence."
"The ashes of the slain pilot were launched into space according to his wishes. When we return a look at tomorrow's weather."
Peter turned to find hank only to see the cameraman walking out with Dave. Peter sank to his chair in defeat.
Date: 01 Nov 1998 04:01:23 EST
Hank had fallen asleep in the editing room, the night before. Dave, a veteran reporter, was asking him what had kept him up. Hank explained the odd flash and went on telling the reporter about the feeling of wrongness about it all. Dave wanted to know if Hank wanted a new assignment. Peter was meanwhile grooming himself in his cubical before he heard the sound of his rising career deflating on the bullpen monitor.
"In local news today, know mobster Ringo Macharcsi was arrested for the bombing of four days ago which claimed two lives. As memorial services were being held for Apollo Maran, police made the arrest of the bomber..." A recording of a detective played.
"We are pleased to begin an earnest crackdown on these undesirable elements in our community and want to send a strong message to organized crime that this port and this city will not accept such cruel acts of violence."
"The ashes of the slain pilot were launched into space according to his wishes. When we return a look at tomorrow's weather."
Peter turned to find hank only to see the cameraman walking out with Dave. Peter sank to his chair in defeat.
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From: marsquinn@aol.com (Mars Quinn)
Date: 11 Nov 1998 17:52:23 EST
"I have evidence that will break the Maran bombing wide open." Dave leaned forward in his seat.
"What else did he say, Peter?" Peter could only shrug. His pride was working over time that someone had picked him over the crafty veteran investigative reporter.
"He wanted Hank to be there as well, and it had to be me and Hank." Peter was exuding great pride in having recaptured his cameraman. "Had to be." Dave rubbed his temples.
"Something's rotten in Denmark."
"Besides your career, Dave?" Dave frowned with his head down. Young reporters were also so eager to make news the often missed truth and most importantly common sense.
"Hank's onto something and he's not leaving the editing booth. As for your call, it's too easy, too convenient."
"What? You can't take my investigative skills?" Peter leaned back like he was in the catbird seat.
"Peter," it was all Dave could do not to strangle the younger man, "you took a *call.* I don't see Mary as being a great investigator."
"She's the receptionist..."
"That's my point. Nothing worth while surfaces without you putting a little back bone into it."
"Well, I'm following my lead and Hank is coming with me."
"Hank is going home." Dave and Peter turned to look at the cameraman. "He's tired and his head hurts."
"Night Hank."
"Night Dave." Hank headed for the exit.
"Go to hell Dave." Peter stormed out. Dave scratched the back of his neck.
"I've got a bad feeling about this."
===========================
On channel 9 later that night.
"Our top story tonight. Star reporter for Channel 9 Peter DeBerg
is found brutally slain. Dave."
"Thank you Jane. Peter DeBerg was found dead in an alley late this evening. He has been missing since midafternoon yesterday. Police say it is one of the more gruesome crime scenes they have investigated in some time. The body was identified through dental records, which, police say, was the only part of the body not damaged in some manner. It is reported the limbs and digits were found scattered around the alley way where the body was
discovered. The only lead at this time is that DeBerg had gone out yesterday afternoon to investigate the bombing that claimed the lives of Apollo Maran, a local freighter pilot, and David Jackson, the personal assistant to an unnamed businessman. Sources say one Bob Smith, admitted to the hospital shortly after the blast with shrapnel and burn injuries, has gone missing. Questions still remain of local authorities being able to stem the current
tide of mob related violence which the death of Peter DeBerg is most likely a part of. We will continue to investigate this and bring you up to date as time allows, Joan?"
"But the man charged with the bombing remains in jail, right Dave?"
"That's right Joan. He is being held without bail one a charge of capitol murder. Questions have arisen though that calls Ringo Macharcsi's guilt into question."
"An interesting case Dave, thank you."
Date: 11 Nov 1998 17:52:23 EST
"I have evidence that will break the Maran bombing wide open." Dave leaned forward in his seat.
"What else did he say, Peter?" Peter could only shrug. His pride was working over time that someone had picked him over the crafty veteran investigative reporter.
"He wanted Hank to be there as well, and it had to be me and Hank." Peter was exuding great pride in having recaptured his cameraman. "Had to be." Dave rubbed his temples.
"Something's rotten in Denmark."
"Besides your career, Dave?" Dave frowned with his head down. Young reporters were also so eager to make news the often missed truth and most importantly common sense.
"Hank's onto something and he's not leaving the editing booth. As for your call, it's too easy, too convenient."
"What? You can't take my investigative skills?" Peter leaned back like he was in the catbird seat.
"Peter," it was all Dave could do not to strangle the younger man, "you took a *call.* I don't see Mary as being a great investigator."
"She's the receptionist..."
"That's my point. Nothing worth while surfaces without you putting a little back bone into it."
"Well, I'm following my lead and Hank is coming with me."
"Hank is going home." Dave and Peter turned to look at the cameraman. "He's tired and his head hurts."
"Night Hank."
"Night Dave." Hank headed for the exit.
"Go to hell Dave." Peter stormed out. Dave scratched the back of his neck.
"I've got a bad feeling about this."
===========================
On channel 9 later that night.
"Our top story tonight. Star reporter for Channel 9 Peter DeBerg
is found brutally slain. Dave."
"Thank you Jane. Peter DeBerg was found dead in an alley late this evening. He has been missing since midafternoon yesterday. Police say it is one of the more gruesome crime scenes they have investigated in some time. The body was identified through dental records, which, police say, was the only part of the body not damaged in some manner. It is reported the limbs and digits were found scattered around the alley way where the body was
discovered. The only lead at this time is that DeBerg had gone out yesterday afternoon to investigate the bombing that claimed the lives of Apollo Maran, a local freighter pilot, and David Jackson, the personal assistant to an unnamed businessman. Sources say one Bob Smith, admitted to the hospital shortly after the blast with shrapnel and burn injuries, has gone missing. Questions still remain of local authorities being able to stem the current
tide of mob related violence which the death of Peter DeBerg is most likely a part of. We will continue to investigate this and bring you up to date as time allows, Joan?"
"But the man charged with the bombing remains in jail, right Dave?"
"That's right Joan. He is being held without bail one a charge of capitol murder. Questions have arisen though that calls Ringo Macharcsi's guilt into question."
"An interesting case Dave, thank you."
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From: marsquinn@aol.com (Mars Quinn)
Date: 25 Nov 1998 12:41:36 EST
Joining the Channel 9 Broadcast in progress:
And for more on the violent murders of Late, Dave Marks. Dave?
Murder has become a thing that residents of RhyDin are accustomed to with great regularity. Police seem unable to ever stem the tide of lawlessness in this town, but lately a new string of deaths has made many members of the community much more aware of the need for local authorities to take a much more hard line stance on the rampant murders. Jahn Sumner was found early this morning murdered in his own bed. As with the 10 murder that have
occurred since the bombing at the courthouse, the victim and his wife were found brutalized. Police Spokesperson Mary Laber.
"These murders are carried out without a shred of emotion, nor purpose. In many serial killer cases there is an act of purging or an attempt to try and rebel against society, an ulterior motive. We can find none in any of these cases. Our best leads point to a person incapable of feeling any emotions or remorse. I believe this person to be more than homicidal. I would call whoever it is completely insane."
In each case, one person has committed each crime. Police believe this person to be male from the sheer strength required to carve his victims like a butcher would a cow...
===============
Hank never had shaken the feeling that the tape he had held a vital clue to the string of deaths, nor had stopped feeling like someone wanted him dead. He never went anyplace that was not crowded. He had been living at the station. He had managed to pass a copy of the tape to a woman named Damaris. His gut told him she knew for sure what that pink flash was.
He swallowed the pills he had been taking that had been the only means of him getting any sleep whatsoever and feel asleep to troubled dreams of pink flashes and wild demons. His answer always just beyond his grasp....
Date: 25 Nov 1998 12:41:36 EST
Joining the Channel 9 Broadcast in progress:
And for more on the violent murders of Late, Dave Marks. Dave?
Murder has become a thing that residents of RhyDin are accustomed to with great regularity. Police seem unable to ever stem the tide of lawlessness in this town, but lately a new string of deaths has made many members of the community much more aware of the need for local authorities to take a much more hard line stance on the rampant murders. Jahn Sumner was found early this morning murdered in his own bed. As with the 10 murder that have
occurred since the bombing at the courthouse, the victim and his wife were found brutalized. Police Spokesperson Mary Laber.
"These murders are carried out without a shred of emotion, nor purpose. In many serial killer cases there is an act of purging or an attempt to try and rebel against society, an ulterior motive. We can find none in any of these cases. Our best leads point to a person incapable of feeling any emotions or remorse. I believe this person to be more than homicidal. I would call whoever it is completely insane."
In each case, one person has committed each crime. Police believe this person to be male from the sheer strength required to carve his victims like a butcher would a cow...
===============
Hank never had shaken the feeling that the tape he had held a vital clue to the string of deaths, nor had stopped feeling like someone wanted him dead. He never went anyplace that was not crowded. He had been living at the station. He had managed to pass a copy of the tape to a woman named Damaris. His gut told him she knew for sure what that pink flash was.
He swallowed the pills he had been taking that had been the only means of him getting any sleep whatsoever and feel asleep to troubled dreams of pink flashes and wild demons. His answer always just beyond his grasp....
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From: marsquinn@aol.com (Mars Quinn)
Date: 15 Dec 1998 17:52:52 EST
A report from Channel 9
"Tonight, more violence as authorities confirm that over 60 bodies were found in the New Roman Bath House. While autopsy results will take some time, early reports are that most of the bodies seem to have died before the fire. There will be a coroners inquest as well as arson and homicide investigation as the scene of this fire is clouded in mystery. An hour before the first alarm was sounded for the fire, shots were reported from the bath house.
Some reports have three people escaping into a waiting car as a fourth escaped on foot. There are many questions as to the identity of the three individuals, as well as the massacre at a large local residence. As the body count grows there are persistent rumors that each of these incidents are related to the bombing death of Apollo Maran. On police source, who wishes to remain nameless, reports that each death related to a smuggling ring that was
supposed to have been run by the young commander, but they have no concrete proof of any wrong doing on Maran's part nor any clues as to who is behind the grisly scenes of carnage that have filled local news for the last month. The local government is refusing to comment on the recent disturbing tide of violence other than to say that crime is on the rise in some areas of the city. When will the violence end?
No one knows for sure, but citizens are a bit more anxious than normal.
I would like to take this moment to remember our own Joan Phillips, found raped and murdered two days ago, along with the hundreds more that have been killed.
This is Dave Marks, channel 9."
© G. Irvin 1998
Date: 15 Dec 1998 17:52:52 EST
A report from Channel 9
"Tonight, more violence as authorities confirm that over 60 bodies were found in the New Roman Bath House. While autopsy results will take some time, early reports are that most of the bodies seem to have died before the fire. There will be a coroners inquest as well as arson and homicide investigation as the scene of this fire is clouded in mystery. An hour before the first alarm was sounded for the fire, shots were reported from the bath house.
Some reports have three people escaping into a waiting car as a fourth escaped on foot. There are many questions as to the identity of the three individuals, as well as the massacre at a large local residence. As the body count grows there are persistent rumors that each of these incidents are related to the bombing death of Apollo Maran. On police source, who wishes to remain nameless, reports that each death related to a smuggling ring that was
supposed to have been run by the young commander, but they have no concrete proof of any wrong doing on Maran's part nor any clues as to who is behind the grisly scenes of carnage that have filled local news for the last month. The local government is refusing to comment on the recent disturbing tide of violence other than to say that crime is on the rise in some areas of the city. When will the violence end?
No one knows for sure, but citizens are a bit more anxious than normal.
I would like to take this moment to remember our own Joan Phillips, found raped and murdered two days ago, along with the hundreds more that have been killed.
This is Dave Marks, channel 9."
© G. Irvin 1998
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From: prlunicorn@aol.com (PrlUnicorn)
Date: 01 Nov 1998 06:15:24 EST
Collie had gone to the funeral to say her good byes. The first weird thing she noticed was no sign of Qwen Bryon, to her knowledge, Apollo's last lady friend. Damaris Black was another missing face. Collie knew of their business association, but knowing Apollo as well as she did, she presumed it was more. She told Mars Quinn about the vials in storage. He apparently didn't understand what she was getting at, but then
again she didn't exactly tell him the whole truth.
Something didn't sit right with her as she watched the tapes over and over again. To Collie, it seemed like someone counted bodies incorrectly.
She spent several years in and out of Belfast, where car bombs had been used in abundance in the 1960s. After almost 500 years of living, she damned well knew a dead body when she saw it. Unless Collie's instincts had failed there were three dead men in that street. Apollo's body was in the car by all accounts, but there had been two reported dead not three. She moved frame by frame, no signs of life from what had been two men outside the car.
Whatever was going on reeked like an unmucked stall at high noon on a summer day and Mars Quinn was the the only link she had to any answers.
In few days, Collie would have the papers ready for Mount Olympus stables. She hoped she wasn't wrong about Mars being the executor of Apollo's estate. A crooked smile raised on her lips and she spoke a single word as she headed in to tend her two youngest children, "Hawk."
Date: 01 Nov 1998 06:15:24 EST
Collie had gone to the funeral to say her good byes. The first weird thing she noticed was no sign of Qwen Bryon, to her knowledge, Apollo's last lady friend. Damaris Black was another missing face. Collie knew of their business association, but knowing Apollo as well as she did, she presumed it was more. She told Mars Quinn about the vials in storage. He apparently didn't understand what she was getting at, but then
again she didn't exactly tell him the whole truth.
Something didn't sit right with her as she watched the tapes over and over again. To Collie, it seemed like someone counted bodies incorrectly.
She spent several years in and out of Belfast, where car bombs had been used in abundance in the 1960s. After almost 500 years of living, she damned well knew a dead body when she saw it. Unless Collie's instincts had failed there were three dead men in that street. Apollo's body was in the car by all accounts, but there had been two reported dead not three. She moved frame by frame, no signs of life from what had been two men outside the car.
Whatever was going on reeked like an unmucked stall at high noon on a summer day and Mars Quinn was the the only link she had to any answers.
In few days, Collie would have the papers ready for Mount Olympus stables. She hoped she wasn't wrong about Mars being the executor of Apollo's estate. A crooked smile raised on her lips and she spoke a single word as she headed in to tend her two youngest children, "Hawk."
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From: prlunicorn@aol.com (PrlUnicorn)
Date: 11 Nov 1998 19:53:02 EST
On channel 9 later that night.
"Our top story tonight. Star reporter for Channel 9 Peter DeBerg
is found brutally slain. Dave."
"Thank you Jane. Peter DeBerg was found dead in an alley late this evening. He has been missing since midafternoon yesterday. Police say it is one of the more gruesome crime scenes they have investigated in some time. The body was identified through dental records, which, police say, was the only part of the body not damaged in some manner. It is reported the limbs and digits were found scattered around the alley way where the body was
discovered. The only lead at this time is that DeBerg had gone out yesterday afternoon to investigate the bombing that claimed the lives of Apollo Maran, a local freighter pilot, and David Jackson, the personal assistant to an unnamed businessman. Sources say one Bob Smith, admitted to the hospital shortly after the blast with shrapnel and burn injuries, has gone missing. Questions still remain of local authorities being able to stem the current
tide of mob related violence which the death of Peter DeBerg is most likely a part of. We will continue to investigate this and bring you up to date as time allows, Joan?"
"But the man charged with the bombing remains in jail, right Dave?"
"That's right Joan. He is being held without bail one a charge of capitol murder. Questions have arisen though that calls Ringo Macharcsi's guilt into question."
"An interesting case Dave, thank you."
Collie's jaw dropped when she heard the report on the news. The reporter prehaps had noticed the three bodies as well, but wasn't quiet.
A note was sent by messenger to Mars Quinn in regard to the final papers for Mount Olympus Stable.
~Mr. Quinn,
I'd like to meet you at your earliest convenience to sign the papers to close the legal matters concerning Mount Olympus Stables.
Colleen Lasher
She shook her head and lifted her newest son from his basinette. A smile raised on her lips as she watched Rachael taking a few wobbly steps to catch up with Nikki, who stood with open arms awaiting her little sister.
Collie pondered exactly what she could be getting into if she opened her mouth as to her suspicions.
Date: 11 Nov 1998 19:53:02 EST
On channel 9 later that night.
"Our top story tonight. Star reporter for Channel 9 Peter DeBerg
is found brutally slain. Dave."
"Thank you Jane. Peter DeBerg was found dead in an alley late this evening. He has been missing since midafternoon yesterday. Police say it is one of the more gruesome crime scenes they have investigated in some time. The body was identified through dental records, which, police say, was the only part of the body not damaged in some manner. It is reported the limbs and digits were found scattered around the alley way where the body was
discovered. The only lead at this time is that DeBerg had gone out yesterday afternoon to investigate the bombing that claimed the lives of Apollo Maran, a local freighter pilot, and David Jackson, the personal assistant to an unnamed businessman. Sources say one Bob Smith, admitted to the hospital shortly after the blast with shrapnel and burn injuries, has gone missing. Questions still remain of local authorities being able to stem the current
tide of mob related violence which the death of Peter DeBerg is most likely a part of. We will continue to investigate this and bring you up to date as time allows, Joan?"
"But the man charged with the bombing remains in jail, right Dave?"
"That's right Joan. He is being held without bail one a charge of capitol murder. Questions have arisen though that calls Ringo Macharcsi's guilt into question."
"An interesting case Dave, thank you."
Collie's jaw dropped when she heard the report on the news. The reporter prehaps had noticed the three bodies as well, but wasn't quiet.
A note was sent by messenger to Mars Quinn in regard to the final papers for Mount Olympus Stable.
~Mr. Quinn,
I'd like to meet you at your earliest convenience to sign the papers to close the legal matters concerning Mount Olympus Stables.
Colleen Lasher
She shook her head and lifted her newest son from his basinette. A smile raised on her lips as she watched Rachael taking a few wobbly steps to catch up with Nikki, who stood with open arms awaiting her little sister.
Collie pondered exactly what she could be getting into if she opened her mouth as to her suspicions.
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From: prlunicorn@aol.com (PrlUnicorn)
Date: 20 Dec 1998 03:34:44 EST
A report from Channel 9
"Tonight, more violence as authorities confirm that over 60 bodies were found in the New Roman Bath House. While autopsy results will take some time, early reports are that most of the bodies seem to have died before the fire. There will be a coroners inquest as well as arson and homicide investigation as the scene of this fire is clouded in mystery. An hour before the first alarm was sounded for the fire, shots were reported from the bath house.
Some reports have three people escaping into a waiting car as a fourth escaped on foot. There are many questions as to the identity of the three individuals, as well as the massacre at a large local residence. As the body count grows there are persistent rumors that each of these incidents are related to the bombing death of Apollo Maran. On police source, who wishes to remain nameless, reports that each death related to a smuggling ring that was
supposed to have been run by the young commander, but they have no concrete proof of any wrong doing on Maran's part nor any clues as to who is behind the grisly scenes of carnage that have filled local news for the last month. The local government is refusing to comment on the recent disturbing tide of violence other than to say that crime is on the rise in some areas of the city. When will the violence end?
Again the news reports stunned her, all those deaths and if she had spoken about her suspsicions would it have saved them or brought things down on her family.
Something in her gutt reminded her that things are not always what they seem. She was right not to trust Quinn, he seemed to know more about her than he should have. The man gave Collie the creeps to put it mildly.
Her mind drifted into the past, just before things broke off, two letters sent with a jacket as a gift. It had been her undoing. Her hope was that Mars Quinn had no idea of the content of those letters. He would use it against her without question.
There was much to do to prepare for the holidays for the children, not to mention the spot she was putting herself in after that. She'd be in the woman's clinic, it had been a hard decision, but survival instinct won out. It was the one place Quinn could possibly get to her, she needed to be sure her tracks were covered.
Date: 20 Dec 1998 03:34:44 EST
A report from Channel 9
"Tonight, more violence as authorities confirm that over 60 bodies were found in the New Roman Bath House. While autopsy results will take some time, early reports are that most of the bodies seem to have died before the fire. There will be a coroners inquest as well as arson and homicide investigation as the scene of this fire is clouded in mystery. An hour before the first alarm was sounded for the fire, shots were reported from the bath house.
Some reports have three people escaping into a waiting car as a fourth escaped on foot. There are many questions as to the identity of the three individuals, as well as the massacre at a large local residence. As the body count grows there are persistent rumors that each of these incidents are related to the bombing death of Apollo Maran. On police source, who wishes to remain nameless, reports that each death related to a smuggling ring that was
supposed to have been run by the young commander, but they have no concrete proof of any wrong doing on Maran's part nor any clues as to who is behind the grisly scenes of carnage that have filled local news for the last month. The local government is refusing to comment on the recent disturbing tide of violence other than to say that crime is on the rise in some areas of the city. When will the violence end?
Again the news reports stunned her, all those deaths and if she had spoken about her suspsicions would it have saved them or brought things down on her family.
Something in her gutt reminded her that things are not always what they seem. She was right not to trust Quinn, he seemed to know more about her than he should have. The man gave Collie the creeps to put it mildly.
Her mind drifted into the past, just before things broke off, two letters sent with a jacket as a gift. It had been her undoing. Her hope was that Mars Quinn had no idea of the content of those letters. He would use it against her without question.
There was much to do to prepare for the holidays for the children, not to mention the spot she was putting herself in after that. She'd be in the woman's clinic, it had been a hard decision, but survival instinct won out. It was the one place Quinn could possibly get to her, she needed to be sure her tracks were covered.
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From: marsquinn@aol.com (Mars Quinn)
Date: 23 Dec 1998 15:00:01 EST
"How did he get that injury?"
"It was a bathroom accident." The guard was not intending to answer other than the story he was given.
"My Aunt Fanny, he was bitten." The doctor had no intentions on talking to anyone but he had to satisfy his professional and personal curiosity. "Hell, man his glans was severed!"
"On glass." The guard opened the door.
"Right before the dragons flew out of my butt." The doctor left still chuckling wondering exactly how his patient had gotten such a severe injury in such a sensitive location. Night was falling and he had to get back to the orphanage to see to the flu cases he had there before he went home.
======================
This just in, the North Avenue Orphans home has exploded. Arson investigators suspect foul play but will comment no further until they have some leads in this case. There is some concern has rumors have begun of a new ruthless crime boss taking over the North Side. Progenitors of this theory point to the sustained violence in that sector of the city. For more we go to Dave Marks, Dave?
Matt, Northern RhyDin, the space port center, has been awash in merciless violence for the past several months. Normally the residents and travelers through this area are armed but now they are armed and frightened. There is a real feeling here of a need for the government of this city to take a real stand or the people will. The burning building you see behind me was home to over 300 orphans. The Child Welfare for the city described this home as
a halfway house filled with "unplaceable" children.
Dave, what does unplaceable mean?
It means that these kids were older children or sickly. Many of the interstellar diseases that we are starting to conquer here had many of these young people in serious condition. There are some children here that are emotionally disturbed as well. Officials report that the resident doctor for this home had entered the building just moments before it erupted in a huge ball of flame that arson investigators point to as clear evidence of a bomb.
It couldn't have been gas, Dave?
That is a possibility, Matt, but the fire is nearly out and no one has shut of the methane that supplies this building with the fuel for heat.
Clearly the act of a sick and evil mind Dave. And now for sports with Michael Muldoon...
=============
Hank looked at Dave then both watched the firefighters put out the building. "This is all about Maran."
"How can you be sure Hank?"
"I just got a feeling..."
© G. Irvin 1998
Date: 23 Dec 1998 15:00:01 EST
"How did he get that injury?"
"It was a bathroom accident." The guard was not intending to answer other than the story he was given.
"My Aunt Fanny, he was bitten." The doctor had no intentions on talking to anyone but he had to satisfy his professional and personal curiosity. "Hell, man his glans was severed!"
"On glass." The guard opened the door.
"Right before the dragons flew out of my butt." The doctor left still chuckling wondering exactly how his patient had gotten such a severe injury in such a sensitive location. Night was falling and he had to get back to the orphanage to see to the flu cases he had there before he went home.
======================
This just in, the North Avenue Orphans home has exploded. Arson investigators suspect foul play but will comment no further until they have some leads in this case. There is some concern has rumors have begun of a new ruthless crime boss taking over the North Side. Progenitors of this theory point to the sustained violence in that sector of the city. For more we go to Dave Marks, Dave?
Matt, Northern RhyDin, the space port center, has been awash in merciless violence for the past several months. Normally the residents and travelers through this area are armed but now they are armed and frightened. There is a real feeling here of a need for the government of this city to take a real stand or the people will. The burning building you see behind me was home to over 300 orphans. The Child Welfare for the city described this home as
a halfway house filled with "unplaceable" children.
Dave, what does unplaceable mean?
It means that these kids were older children or sickly. Many of the interstellar diseases that we are starting to conquer here had many of these young people in serious condition. There are some children here that are emotionally disturbed as well. Officials report that the resident doctor for this home had entered the building just moments before it erupted in a huge ball of flame that arson investigators point to as clear evidence of a bomb.
It couldn't have been gas, Dave?
That is a possibility, Matt, but the fire is nearly out and no one has shut of the methane that supplies this building with the fuel for heat.
Clearly the act of a sick and evil mind Dave. And now for sports with Michael Muldoon...
=============
Hank looked at Dave then both watched the firefighters put out the building. "This is all about Maran."
"How can you be sure Hank?"
"I just got a feeling..."
© G. Irvin 1998
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From: prlunicorn@aol.com (PrlUnicorn)
Date: 28 Dec 1998 17:02:08 EST
This just in, the North Avenue Orphans home has exploded. Arson investigators suspect foul play but will comment no further until they have some leads in this case. There is some concern has rumors have begun of a new ruthless crime boss taking over the North Side. Progenitors of this theory point to the sustained violence in that sector of the city. For more we go to Dave Marks, Dave?
Matt, Northern RhyDin, the space port center, has been awash in merciless violence for the past several months. Normally the residents and travelers through this area are armed but now they are armed and frightened. There is a real feeling here of a need for the government of this city to take a real stand or the people will. The burning building you see behind me was home to over 300 orphans. The Child Welfare for the city described this home as
a halfway house filled with "unplaceable" children.
Dave, what does unplaceable mean?
It means that these kids were older children or sickly. Many of the interstellar diseases that we are starting to conquer here had many of these young people in serious condition. There are some children here that are emotionally disturbed as well. Officials report that the resident doctor for this home had entered the building just moments before it erupted in a huge ball of flame that arson investigators point to as clear evidence of a bomb.
It couldn't have been gas, Dave?
That is a possibility, Matt, but the fire is nearly out and no one has shut of the methane that supplies this building with the fuel for heat.
Clearly the act of a sick and evil mind Dave. And now for sports with Michael Muldoon...
Collie listened to the news report and her anger rose to new heights. It was pure rage.
That's when it hit her like a ton of bricks. This wasn't about Apollo, he was a rogue and a pirate, but he'd never purposely hurt a child. It was the one weakness Collie had ever found in him. He lost his daughter and it haunted him still.
Two things ran through her head, either someone wanted the doctor dead at any cost or the cat was out of the bag. Her only link to Apollo, dead or alive was Mars Quinn, and he knew at least half of what was going on.
She couldn't do this on her own and the person she sent could have no ties to her. Collie sunk into her chair trying to come up with someone to look into it. A name had crossed her mind a time or two, but Collie thought twice before even considering this person, but she had to know.
The arrangements were made through an intermediary. Collie had to protect herself and her kids, yet, this had gone too far. It was time to do something. The messenger and money were sent. The deal was sealed and the deed was done.
Date: 28 Dec 1998 17:02:08 EST
This just in, the North Avenue Orphans home has exploded. Arson investigators suspect foul play but will comment no further until they have some leads in this case. There is some concern has rumors have begun of a new ruthless crime boss taking over the North Side. Progenitors of this theory point to the sustained violence in that sector of the city. For more we go to Dave Marks, Dave?
Matt, Northern RhyDin, the space port center, has been awash in merciless violence for the past several months. Normally the residents and travelers through this area are armed but now they are armed and frightened. There is a real feeling here of a need for the government of this city to take a real stand or the people will. The burning building you see behind me was home to over 300 orphans. The Child Welfare for the city described this home as
a halfway house filled with "unplaceable" children.
Dave, what does unplaceable mean?
It means that these kids were older children or sickly. Many of the interstellar diseases that we are starting to conquer here had many of these young people in serious condition. There are some children here that are emotionally disturbed as well. Officials report that the resident doctor for this home had entered the building just moments before it erupted in a huge ball of flame that arson investigators point to as clear evidence of a bomb.
It couldn't have been gas, Dave?
That is a possibility, Matt, but the fire is nearly out and no one has shut of the methane that supplies this building with the fuel for heat.
Clearly the act of a sick and evil mind Dave. And now for sports with Michael Muldoon...
Collie listened to the news report and her anger rose to new heights. It was pure rage.
That's when it hit her like a ton of bricks. This wasn't about Apollo, he was a rogue and a pirate, but he'd never purposely hurt a child. It was the one weakness Collie had ever found in him. He lost his daughter and it haunted him still.
Two things ran through her head, either someone wanted the doctor dead at any cost or the cat was out of the bag. Her only link to Apollo, dead or alive was Mars Quinn, and he knew at least half of what was going on.
She couldn't do this on her own and the person she sent could have no ties to her. Collie sunk into her chair trying to come up with someone to look into it. A name had crossed her mind a time or two, but Collie thought twice before even considering this person, but she had to know.
The arrangements were made through an intermediary. Collie had to protect herself and her kids, yet, this had gone too far. It was time to do something. The messenger and money were sent. The deal was sealed and the deed was done.
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From: brdgdillon@aol.com (BrdgDillon)
Date: 28 Dec 1998 18:34:07 EST
The detective had moxie and survived more ordeals than there were in the Inquisition. She took a deep drag on the cigarette and flipped up the jacket collar, nodding as she took the packet of money. "The woman always did pay well." A smirk came over her face as she pocketed it.
Bridie caught the motion from the corner of her eye, a glint of metal. Her heart skipped a beat, but in one calm graceful step she moved out of the path of the switchblade that had been thrown in her direction. Her head turned and her brow raised, "You'll have to do better then that." She picked up the blade, closed it part way, and sailed it like a boomerang, her would be assailant grinned as the switchblade sailed behind him. He didn't count on
the backlash as it slammed into the side of his neck. His mouth gaped as the blood poured forth from the newly opened wound.
She shook her head and flipped her still burning cigarette at his face, "Be a damned cold day in hell before the likes of you kills me." She stepped out of the alley and into the dim street light. Her thoughts were the pathway to what she was being paid to learn.
Colleen Lasher left nothing to chance when it came to her children. The destruction of an orphanage was too close to home. For some, the news station would be the logical place to begin, but with photos of Maran, and his publicly known associates shown on the video tapes and newspapers, Bridie had something to start her search.
Bridget Rose Dillon had grown up the hard way in war torn Belfast and knew better then most that survival of the fittest wasn't always the way. Survival of the smartest and wariest, that worked.
Her attire changed from the leather jacket and jeans to a short black dress, black stockings, high heels, and winter cape. She made her way into the hospital. Lesson one was; the easiest way to not be overly noticed in a crowd was target your audience. She caught the eye of a young orderly and wheedled out of him the location of the man brought in after the car bombing. She didn't know who he was, but something told her he was indeed the place to
start. A sassy smile and a fifty was slipped to the orderly, who was convinced that he never saw her.
The room was found and she hide across the way, again changing clothes to some sort of technician's uniform. Bridie knew at least enough to pass herself off as a paramedic. She looked over the smocks hanging up and slipped on a blue one with a hospital volunteer patch on it. It was perfect, she grabbed a cart of reading materials and headed across the hall into the room.
Date: 28 Dec 1998 18:34:07 EST
The detective had moxie and survived more ordeals than there were in the Inquisition. She took a deep drag on the cigarette and flipped up the jacket collar, nodding as she took the packet of money. "The woman always did pay well." A smirk came over her face as she pocketed it.
Bridie caught the motion from the corner of her eye, a glint of metal. Her heart skipped a beat, but in one calm graceful step she moved out of the path of the switchblade that had been thrown in her direction. Her head turned and her brow raised, "You'll have to do better then that." She picked up the blade, closed it part way, and sailed it like a boomerang, her would be assailant grinned as the switchblade sailed behind him. He didn't count on
the backlash as it slammed into the side of his neck. His mouth gaped as the blood poured forth from the newly opened wound.
She shook her head and flipped her still burning cigarette at his face, "Be a damned cold day in hell before the likes of you kills me." She stepped out of the alley and into the dim street light. Her thoughts were the pathway to what she was being paid to learn.
Colleen Lasher left nothing to chance when it came to her children. The destruction of an orphanage was too close to home. For some, the news station would be the logical place to begin, but with photos of Maran, and his publicly known associates shown on the video tapes and newspapers, Bridie had something to start her search.
Bridget Rose Dillon had grown up the hard way in war torn Belfast and knew better then most that survival of the fittest wasn't always the way. Survival of the smartest and wariest, that worked.
Her attire changed from the leather jacket and jeans to a short black dress, black stockings, high heels, and winter cape. She made her way into the hospital. Lesson one was; the easiest way to not be overly noticed in a crowd was target your audience. She caught the eye of a young orderly and wheedled out of him the location of the man brought in after the car bombing. She didn't know who he was, but something told her he was indeed the place to
start. A sassy smile and a fifty was slipped to the orderly, who was convinced that he never saw her.
The room was found and she hide across the way, again changing clothes to some sort of technician's uniform. Bridie knew at least enough to pass herself off as a paramedic. She looked over the smocks hanging up and slipped on a blue one with a hospital volunteer patch on it. It was perfect, she grabbed a cart of reading materials and headed across the hall into the room.