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''Originally Published on August 27th, 2494''<br>
''Orbital News Network/Pierre Garm Reporting''
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 [Chirping, grating music awash with synth keyboards and bold brass enters the feed accompanied by thrumming percussion that builds as darkness ebbs away, banished by rising lights in a extravagant studio as the ONN logo smash cuts across the screen.]

 [The vacant luxuriously huge desk centers as the focal point as a camera begins to crane in while bringing it inline with the horizon, a small pallid dome can be seen centerline as it begins to rise upwards slowly, a gaunt visage appearing, stoic and infinitely distant. The wispy strands of hair atop the sickeningly pale head blow independently of anything else in shot, the facial expression of the figure seems to both stare at and through the camera lens as his chair ceases rising on its hydraulics to maximum height as the music fades away. The figure stares uncomfortably at the camera for a few moments before his voice comes, rattling from proverbial tombs below the ground.]

"Tonight's top stories... a vehicular accident takes the lives of Marquis Marketing Strategies CEO Marcus Foucault along with his wife and children on Luna under unknown circumstances, and a significant data breach of SunCorona Technologies by an unknown group threatens their future and raises concerns... I am Pierre Garm... and here are tales of death and theft...."
 
 [Holo images begin to project above the desk, flanking Pierre with visions of a crumpled frame of what must have been a vehicle, now blackened and twisted like burned paper.  The face of a wide-smiling blue-eyed, blond-haired man with flawless tanned skin and impeccable teeth seems frozen in time with an admirable attempt at his best head shot appears to Pierre's right.]

"Marcus Foucault, wunderkind CEO of Marquis Marketing for the last five years, had taken his company from lower tier player in the cutthroat world of Advertising into a dangerous new rising star in just a few years. People may remember campaigns such as his rebranding of Toksik Lagers feed ads of 'Toksik Lagers... because everything else tastes like recycled bum piss...' and Orion Luxury Office Furnishings ads of 'Orion Luxury Office suites, because you'll fuck them in your office before wasting a goddamned cred on a cheap hotel room for your affair...' Marcus was known for his abrasive and bullish approach to chasing profit avenues that saw clients hate to love him and competitors love to hate him. His tastes for ever expanding finer things became widely known in social circles on Luna, from drugs, parties, opulent amenities and furnishings, fast living and even faster cars."
 
 [Pierre raises a hand to adjust his disheveled tie as the images flanking him change to wider shots of carnage on gilded streets, husks of vehicles appear, the ground littered with debris, parts, and blood.]

"It was the latter that finally brought about the ruin of Marcus's expanding promise along with the souls of his wife, holovid cosmetic model Tiffany Foucault, and their two children as they were driving together in his recently purchased Ferrara Rarog as it strayed across the dividing line of the street into oncoming traffic at 130km/h, the resulting six car pile-up saw his vehicle fold in on itself from multiple directions as it struck vehicle and building alike... pinballing back and forth between multiple impacts before the engine core erupted, turning the Rarog into a melting pot of metal slag and burning fat. Eight souls made up of drivers, passengers, and pedestrians were ended by high speed collisions that saw twelve others seriously injured. The cause of Marcus's ill-fated lane drift is not confirmed at this time but ONN expresses condolences to his surviving family..."

 [Pierre stares at one of the images of the burnt Rarog and what might be human shapes in carbon.]

"Moving onto our next top story... Data breach at SolCorona Technologies..."

[[File:SolCoronaLogov1.2.png|frame|center]]

 [The images flanking Pierre change from human devastation as he looks away from them listlessly and resumes gazing deeply into the camera again.]]

"Late Sunday Evening, as SolCorona was wrapping up compilations of the previous week's work for reporting and planning for a new week, their offices staffed by those most dedicated and necessary to maintaining corporate value and diligent pursuance to their goals found their work interrupted by a focused shadownet strike on the Corporation's network firewall. This attack saw the criminals successfully breach their protections as they absconding with files, communications, and invaluable research paid for and pursued by SolCorona Technologies over years and years of innovative development in solar power and energy solutions for longer term space flight for tankers, larger scale spacecraft, and habitats. We have Founder and CEO Armen Rekovik present to provide details..."

 [Pierre turns slowly in his chair to his left, his gaze remaining fixed on some distant point of the horizon as a holo image flips and reveals a somewhat weathered face of an older man with a manicured and trimmed beard covering effectively the wrinkles and pits of a face that has had a hard life. Pierre's gaze slowly moves upwards to focus on Armen Rekovik as he clears his throat and begins his interview.]

"Mr. Rekovik, thank you for joining us...the first question I have been told to ask you is... this data breach, has it compromised any of your clients and customers?"

 [Armen Rekovik pauses a moment with the delay, before nodding slowly and speaking with a deep and thick slavic accent.]

"Да, the first thing I wish to say is that at this time we are confident that our customer base and the information they entrusted us with that we treat with the highest security concerns was not compromised or stolen. We are of course continuing our investigations as we bring in outside help to ensure we are not only thorough with this investigation but also assured of the greatest protections for our network and site before we bring it back online. We are partnering with NSI as we speak to ensure when we relaunch our network that it will be completely secure and ready for any further attempts to breach it. We apologize to our wonderful customers for this inconvenience and regret the delays in shipments and order fulfillment that will come from this but assure you it is necessary to make sure our client's information profiles are protected..."

 [Pierre seems to nod almost robotically and unnaturally slow in response before speaking again.

"I was told to ask this next...What was stolen in this data raid of your systems, Mr. Rekovik, if you are able to divulge that information?

 [Armen Rekovik seems to adjust in his seating at his personal location, a brief twitch in his left eye predating his response.]

"Our initial investigations support what we expected, that this was an act of industrial espionage, as the criminals targeted our unreleased intellectual properties and proprietary tech of our currently existing lines. We, however, remain confident that our ability to execute our products is what makes them important and valuable to our clients. We anticipate knock-off launches and adaptions of our technology by lesser manufacturers will follow in the wake of this attack and we intend to persue our intellectual property rights to the fullest extent possible and will be connecting any such evidence this raid as we close in on the group that carried it out. We view this only as a setback for us, one we will overcome vigorously and have assurances from outside support that we will find those responsible and see to it they cannot threaten others with such actions in the future."

 [Pierre continues his obligatory nodding until Rekovik stops speaking, briefly looking down at his datapad for the next question before looking back up again.]

"Mr. Rekovik, as I have been told to ask, what information do you have on this group at this time, and do you have any suspects for who may have carried out the raid? Should others be worried that an attack like this might be coming for others?"

 [Armen Rekovik's eye twitch continues, his nodding neatly mirroring Pierre's own as he clears his throat with a rattling cough to answer.]

"We do not wish to show too much of our hand in a public forum but we do know the number of attackers was small, as was recorded on the network before we took it offline, so not like concerted DDoS attacks or mass group assaults which lends itself to the idea of this group being hired guns or a blackops raid department. The files of the raid are being looked over by outside experts for further analysis and clues, so rest assured we will know all there is to know at the conclusion of their investigation. We will either locate and shut down these hired guns and follow them to who paid them, or we will uncover the identity of the group for whom they are a department and bring whatever action our influence can muster towards them. As to the possibility of others being attacked, I cannot say other than to remind everyone eternal diligence is always called for as an attack can come at any time..."

 [Pierre picks up where Rekovik had left off with slow nods, almost hypnotic in its smooth passing back and forth between them before taking his turn to speak in a strange call and response pantomime.]

"I understand, Mr. Rekovik, that concludes the questions I was told to ask, here is one of my own... do you think children who are about to die reflect on all they will miss out on in life, or are they too innocent to be able to see past the very moment they are living in into the existential dread of the finality of all their struggling, and that the random chaos of a candle being snuffed out moments after it has been lit by a careless breeze is a metaphor they cannot grasp yet?"

 [Armen Rekovik's eye ceases twitching, his patterned and robotic nodding stopping cold as he seems to become less stiff, his gaze more focused.]

"You're speaking of the Foucault family's children? Where I was born, innocence and children were acquaintances, not friends. A soft life gives innocence and self-deception, a hard one resilience and stark truth. It does not matter, in the end we all die just the same."

 [Pierre stops his own nodding at Armen Rekovik's response, a pause then before he seems to lurch forward suddenly with explosive force, a wide angular grin appearing on his face as his eyes suddenly become wide and bulging instead of narrowed and sunken. A gasp can be heard somewhere off camera.]

"Well stated, Mr. Rekovik... I thank you for joining us here today..."  

 [Pierre turns slowly towards the camera as his expression returns to its sullen and lifeless default.]

"We will keep you abreast of any developments with the SolCorona data breach attack as they become available, as well as any autopsy footage of the Foucault family we are able to obtain, after they have been peeled from the burnt metal oven they were baked onto. I am Pierre Garm, and this has been the Orbital News Network special report..."

 [Pierre continues to stare directly into the camera's soul as it pans back, away from him into the shadows beyond the stage lights, the music swells again as the ONN logo jump cuts one final time across the screen as the feed ends.]