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*OFFICIAL ICN ANNOUNCEMENT* TC/EE/JN/SOL


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LOGIN>GOLF

PASSWORD>***********

ACCESS LEVEL>I.C.N. MOUTH

NET ACCESS GRANTED

WELCOME



A telescreen flickers and buzzes, suddenly switching on after a drawn-out period of white noise. A fanfare of horns plays, a wave of energy and the sound of raucous cheering can be heard in a large hall. Burly arms are thrown up in the air, and scarred, rough and dirty hands are balled up into fists. The crowd is filled with men, women and alien alike with roguish features and tattered cloaks draped over their faces and backs. Center, the back wall of the stage drops two massive, black and violet banners. An intricate insignia adorns the fabric of the banner.


The applause grows as a figure in an extravagant, flowing brown cloak and coat walks out from the side entrance of the stage, approaching the podium at the front, the entirety of the stage covered with a transparent light blue energy shield. His arms, hands, legs, feet and body are covered with extensive amounts of armor padding and plates, he even possesses a crotch guard. The only skin he has exposed is his lower face and nose, his upper cheeks, eyes and forehead covered by an elaborate mask. The violet visor of the mask shines in the light, and the black plating has a slight blue sheen, likely due to the light from the ray shield. They raise their hands in acknowledgement to the cheering, waving and roaring back at the crowd with energy and excitement. They pump their fists in the air, and the cheering only grows louder. He lowers his head slightly, slowly drops his arms as the applause slowly lowers its volume, only the ambience of muttering, shifting and creaking of the floors and walls themselves could be heard.


The figure approaches the podium, and rises onto the first step of the base of the podium, his footsteps echoing across the hall. He adjusts the microphone, flicking it once or twice as a harsh whine from the feedback rings across the hall.



"LADIES! AND GENTLEMEN!" he roars. The crowd roars in response, clapping for a few short moments before the figure forms a devilish smile and begins to continue, "Cutthroats, pickpockets, buccaneers, illegitimate privateers and scum alike! All across the known galaxy, from Sol itself, to the Outer Rim Nebulae, to the Eridani Fringe and the very Frontier itself we ALL have come to know as OUR HOME! I... am Golf, one of the twenty-six Mouths for the Commission. While I am here to relay to you, the wishes of the Commission, we are mustered here today to announce that we have FINALLY moved our operations right into the sector of Tau!"


The crowd claps in response, though it does not yell nor cheer. As soon as the figure begins to speak again, the hall is harsh and quiet.


"During the course of our... rather mutually beneficial financial relationship, the Commission will have executed a multi-step process that was cautiously and intelligently formed by our team of analysts and organizers within the sector. Our mission statement is thusly..."


The figure beckons for a stage assistant. The assistant steps forward, their hands to their side with a holopad in their right hand. They step uneasily towards the podium, holding the holopad up to the figure unsteadily. The figure snatches the holopad out from the assistant's grip, and the assistant steps nervously backward to their initial place. The figure holds up the holopad to shoulder-level, reading off of it.


"'We, heretoforth known as the Interstellar Criminal Network, the name graciously bestowed upon us by the Sol Alliance... among others...'" His voice trails off, and he lowers the holopad slightly, gauging the crowd's reaction. A few chuckles and sensible laughs are heard from the crowd.


The figure continues, "'...Exist only for the purpose of profit. But not only profit, but mutual financial gain, to greater benefit each and every member amongst us. We are not merely cutthroats, pickpockets, buccaneers, illegitimate privateers and scum. Not only are we that, however, but we are conjoined in brotherhood. Many of you would die for your families, perhaps your countries, or even your beliefs. Consider this extended partnership with us, to be one of those things you would want to risk everything for. Why, you may ask? The why of it, is because life is not worth living without taking risks. And what better way to live it than to take each and every risk you can, every step of the way?'" He pauses for a moment, looking amongst the crowd for dissent or disagreement. He saw none.


"I can tell we're in agreement. We didn't manage to get here on mere whims, now did we? We've all done terrible things, haven't we? But, that is not the point. Look at all of us now. Look around you. Look at the banners hanging high, representing our collective strength, pride. Ingenuity, cleverness. And perhaps, even luck, for some of you that I even question manage to stand here today. But look again. Look again at the banners. When I look at them, myself, I see the future. I see prosperity. Profit. Glory. They do say that a work of art says a thousand words, does it not? I myself, would agree with that sentiment."


He awaits a reaction from the crowd. An eerie sense of utter silence hangs in the hall.


He chuckles humorlessly, and then speaks once again, facing the crowd, "It would appear that my assumption was correct. Now, for those of you present in the audience... The doors to the side and behind you. This, all of this. Is your new home. The cafeteria is to your left. The quarters, to your right. Behind you, the main hall, from which you came." He motions his hands towards the large side doors, and the indicated main hall doors behind the crowd as he speaks. He then faces towards the camera, and it begins to zoom closely onto his silhouette.


"Now, viewers who, unfortunate as it is, could not be here today to attend at our Hall. Those of you that have the skills, or the potential to be a very talented member of our brotherhood, our network of ne'er-do-wells. I invite you. We all invite you, who may not individually affect this universe with what talents and skills you may have for us to use for the brotherhood... We implore you all to step forward and make a little trouble. We'll come find you, rest assured."


He nods as he speaks, spreading his arms outward, in an expressive and welcoming manner. He then plants his elbows onto the surface of the podium, interlacing his gloved fingers with one another, as his tone changes from welcome to threatening.


"And to those of you that hunt for us. To those of you that are attempting to identify our home, now, in an effort to eradicate us all. We are not only flattered by your great interest in our organization, but by your prior attempts to, indeed, force inexistence upon us all. I would implore you, here and now. To give us your best shot. We've done a lot of waiting throughout several lifetimes of the network's existence. We can afford to do a little more. Come at us," He gives a firm and serious nod, as heavy plasteel shutters slam downward in front of the force field.


The feed idles for 15 seconds, and the broadcast finishes.

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