Rowdy Dead Productions

By David C. Daoust

 
New Runnymede was the planet ‘Aertholm’s’ only moon. This moon was famous for several reasons- it’s landless composition, only the first. This watery wonder was the single most important moon in the entire Onion. This was mainly thanks to its vast oceans; the Onion’s first great oceans throughout this fledgling solar system. These Oceans allowed the rebirth of more species of oceanic life than one could count.

It was a prize-moon — truly a jewel of the Onion, which meant that none other than the Trade Consortium could possibly plant their flag upon it. It was here that it became famous for its second reason- the very birthplace the Trade Consortium; where those Magnates of Industry first signed their now infamous Charter. Indeed, New Runnymede would become the capital of the Trade Consortium itself- despite being AU’s from the majority of the Consortium’s holdings.

To study a map of this region, one would find the Royal Province’s white, pink Ark crested flag upon the planet, Aertholm. A planet orbited, not only by its single moon, but by two of the ancient Citystations, ‘Little Iopa’ and ‘San Bernadette’- both claimed by the Royal Alliance’s pink, white Ark crested flag, with the moon New Runnymede indicated by the blue and white flag -famous for its small blue dolphin leaping over a star- of the Trade Consortium. If one looked close enough, they may notice the small Industrial Hub ‘Stegas Point’ being the only other property of the Consortium’s vast holdings in this otherwise ‘Royal’ dominated region. Truly, a testament to the Consortium’s might, throughout the Onion.

The first structures rose up out of the water like pillars, docks led up onto platforms, connected by catwalks—til the foundations formed and skyscrapers stretched high into the heavens. ‘Pinnacle City’ formed. This beautiful City had a way of pulling all the most beautiful, talented people throughout the Onion to it. It was not long until New Runnymede was also famous for being the entertainment epicenter of the solar system.

Colin Vice was no stranger to Pinnacle City. He had lived here, long ago, as a boy, before he had moved to his home on Halfhull. When he grew older, and revisited this watery moon, he’d fallen in love here and most importantly- he had almost died here.

One could say Colin Vice had lost his heart in Pinnacle City, literally.

Luckily, the tech was such in the Onion, that he could have it replaced with the clanking hunk of machinery that now inhabited his chest. Admittedly, not the same chest he had placed his hand on, upon the thought of that distant disaster… considering he was merely an elaborate lattice of solid light in his current state, but , he was sure, it was clanking away in that distant nutrient bath his real body was currently immersed in.

Colin was accompanied by the charismatic Maile Purloin. Jane– he had always called her Jane. She changed her name though, and he wasn’t about to spoil anything for her. Maile was a talented thief from way, way back, when he was young; when they were young. Back when she stole food just to survive. The Organization changed all that. Trading Scrip for Coin changed things for many.

That was then, this is now.

Now, Maile and Colin were currently packed within an elevator, waiting patiently as it carried them up to the highest floors of the skyscraper. He’d spent his brief time on New Runnymede, delving through what information he could about the rogue drones threatening to continue their rampage on the distant moon of Twin Crown.

His investigation led him here- headed up into what was called ‘Theo-BOLD Con’. Colin had never heard of it before that day. Apparently, his father was expected, yet had failed to arrive. Colin had no idea why. It was not hard for him to pretend that he had come in his father’s place.

They were very excited to escort him in.

Colin could only guess what to expect… and when the doors opened to reveal the vast convention room floor, it was all he could do not to show his surprise. The room was packed with people, and not normal joes. These were the elite, the super rich- money movers that could shape worlds and crush lives.

The high-ceilinged room was tiered around the perimeter, with monitors and terminals at every level. Many convention goers stood around the monitors, as others sat with visors on their head- seemingly playing a game.

Scantily clad servers walked the room with glasses of Champagne, or trays of fancy foods. It had a feel of some high class gathering- mixed with a circus. High above, hovering over all their heads- was a Battle Drone. A real one, like he had witnessed tear Grady down around his very shoulders.

As he led Maile through the room, still following their escort, he was able to crane his head around, and witness what was depicted on one of the many screens. He recognized it immediately. It was Twin Crown. No doubt in his mind. Maile, too, must have witnessed it, as she suddenly clutched his arm tighter. The alarmed look on her face, told him, she knew more than he thought.

“This way Mr. Vice,” his escort prodded him away from the screen, “Mr. Gray will want to fill you in on what you’ve missed, personally.”

With this, their escort led them up, tier after tier, spectacle after spectacle- until they entered a private show room.

Where one Theobald Gray stood, arms out wide, as he shouted, “Welcome to Theo-BOLD Con!”