"No, Admiral."
"Where are all the ships in the area?"
"Most have left already, some are still moving to a mesh-out point, but it looks like everybody is leaving," the sensor operator reported.
"No sign of the construction cradles or any ConFed warships?"
"No, Admiral."
"I don't understand," the captain said.
"I'm sure you don't," Kellea sighed. "We've been had. Operations, scan the debris field and see if the amount of raw material there matches up to what our intel indicates should be the completed weapon's tonnage."
"Standby."
Kellea's eyes never left the displays in front of her, though she became more certain that no defensive response or counterattack would be forthcoming.
"Admiral, initial analysis indicates there is less than fifteen percent of the expected material from the construct."
"It would appear they baited us out here to hit a fake, but there's no battlefleet here to wipe us out," Kellea said, thinking aloud. "So, they wanted the rebellion's ships well out of the way, but they weren't willing to engage us in a standup fight."
"They plan to hit a target we would normally protect," the captain said. "But they couldn't know we'd only bring a handful of ships out here. They expected a conventional attack with our entire fleet."
"This only makes sense if there was an opposing force here to spring the trap on us," she said, not understanding the ConFed's tactics. "The only other plausible explanation is that they still thought we'd bring our entire fleet, but they didn't want to attack it, they just wanted it out of the way."
"Orders, Admiral?" the captain asked, visibly agitated. Kellea didn't blame him. The whole thing was spooky.
"Coms, contact home station and report in," she said. "Try to reach out to our other fleet and have them abort. No point in wasting such valuable munitions. Tell the taskforce we're withdrawing and to prepare for mesh-out."
"With your permission, Admiral?" the captain asked, obviously wanting to leave immediately.
"The ship is yours, Captain."
"Bring us to full power! Set course for home station and engage at maximum slip."
"Executing, Captain!"
25
Acuri stalked the halls of the building the Machine's acolytes had repurposed for their own HQ. He was confused by the data he'd just been given, and that wasn't a feeling he was accustomed to. It was almost a certainty the Machine had already seen the same raw intel, but it hadn't summoned them to provide guidance or give new orders.
He barged into an office without bothering to announce himself or signal he was there. As the Machine's right-hand, he felt little need to waste time with the pointless ceremonies and societal niceties the biotics seemed obsessed with. Inside the sparsely furnished office was another synth. It stood at a wall terminal, not bothering to turn and greet the guest that had stormed into the office.
"What can I assist you with, Acuri?"
"What makes you think I need assistance, Dezeiri?"
"Because you would not have come marching in as if I had stolen from you if you did not require my help," Dezeiri said, shutting down the terminal and spinning to face his guest.
Dezeiri and Acuri didn't much care for each other, and neither made much of a pretense of hiding that fact. Acuri thought Dezeiri was too old and too slow to be of any real use to them. The synth was nineteen years over what was considered their maximum effective service life, and his processing matrix showed its age. Acuri was also unconvinced the older synth was as dedicated to the cause as the rest of them were.
For his part, Dezeiri would probably agree with Acuri's assessment. He keenly felt his age and knew it was only a matter of time before his mind failed completely, or his body was no longer able to be repaired and upgraded. He had agreed to join the revolutionaries that had flocked to the Machine at its call because he felt his age and wisdom might temper the violent reactionaries like Acuri. Dezeiri didn't particularly like most of the biotic species in the quadrant, a prejudice not unusual among his kind, but he also realized that if the synths made themselves too much of a threat, the biotics would wipe them out.
The Machine tolerated his squishiness on the coming war because Dezeiri had cultivated many back-channel political connections throughout the quadrant during his career as a diplomatic attaché. Those relationships were useful to it. For now. When the day came that he was no longer necessary, Dezeiri had no doubt the Machine would tell Acuri to kill him if he liked.
"You're aware of the borderland operation, of course," Acuri said. "The rebellion has taken the bait and attacked, destroying the mockup of the weapon."
"But?" Dezeiri prompted.
"But we are not certain how they did it. The hidden observation craft only saw five ships appear in-system. They launched ten missiles equipped with a variant of the XTX slip-drive system, then they meshed-out. They no doubt took their own scans and realized the construct they destroyed was merely a shell," Acuri said.
"Even though the shell was just a proof of concept before the work on the real weapon begins, there's no way they could have taken it out with just ten missiles," Dezeiri scoffed. Acuri simply handed him a data card and stepped back, obviously expecting the other to look at immediately. Dezeiri took the card and walked back to the terminal, examining the sensor data from the hidden trawler that had observed the attack.
Right away, he could see the rebels had indeed only brought five ships that fired two missiles apiece. When the warheads detonated, however, the sensors on the trawler were washed out. It just looked like a barrage of jamming noise. When the data feed resumed, the hull mockup drifted in tens of thousands of pieces. The destructive force to be able to do that had to be immense. Part of the reason for the hull mockup in the first place was to see how it fared against contemporary weapons. The ceramic composite material it was made from—provided by the Machine—was supposed to be able to shrug off concussive and nuclear missiles without trouble. Dezeiri was able to draw some obvious conclusions from what he was seeing, and none of it was good news for them.
"Well?" Acuri snapped, impatient.
"The plan to draw the rebellion's main fleet to a remote location has failed."
"Yes, yes, that part was quite obvious."
"They also have access to a new type of munition, massively destructive yet able to be deployed on a conventional missile platform," Dezeiri said. "The sensor washout wasn't complete. There were significant spikes in gamma and beta radiation recorded, as well as the fact that the amount of material left over is far less than it should have been were the hull mockup simply destroyed."
"You're saying the rebellion has come up with a way to eradicate matter instantaneously, and that they've already weaponized it?" Acuri asked. "I find that difficult to believe."
"That is your right, however, the evidence speaks for itself," Dezeiri said in his calm way that infuriated Acuri. "You may also want to consider that we're not the only ones who have gained a powerful benefactor with advance knowledge from beyond our borders."
"Another AI from the same region?" Acuri asked, now very interested in what the older synth said.
"The Machine may be unique here, but my impression from my conversations with it is that it was one among many such entities. If the rebels have gained access to another, possibly one with a more intact memory, they could easily even their odds against us. These matter eradicating warheads may only be the beginning."
"Then where is the rest of their fleet?" Acuri asked more to himself. "Reports are that the thief who has been running most of this operation is in his home system, only protected by a token force of his own ships. The tattered dregs of the Imperial Navy are nowhere to be found."
"Underestimate Saditava Mok at your own peril," Dezeiri warned. "He is neither stupid nor weak."
"He is just another self-impressed biotic, a sociopath, and a criminal," Acuri said, the derision dripping from his words. "He is not our equal."
&
nbsp; "Mok has over sixty synths that I know of working in his employ," Dezeiri said. "They are fiercely loyal to him. If he has a functional Noxu AI, and he has that many synths working for him, he is at least as formidable as we are, minus the Machine's ability to command the ConFed military."
"You will come with me," Acuri said. "It must be warned."
"I will come, but not because you have ordered me to. You do not command me, Acuri. You would do well to remember that."
Acuri said nothing, simply pointed to the open door.
The Machine stopped paying attention to the audio channel from the room two of his lieutenants bickered in. For all their professed hatred of biotics, they certainly tried their hardest to act just like them, including wasting valuable time fighting amongst themselves over status and recognition. Acuri was a simple mind to manipulate. Feed into his ego, give him a target to hate, and claim to have the same goals, and the synth would fight to the death for your cause.
Dezeiri was a different story. The Machine had considered having him destroyed on more than one occasion because he just didn't trust that the older synth was really there to help them. It was entirely possible he was there as a spy for his homeworld of Khepri or maybe even working for the rebellion. It had been he who had pored over the data and discovered that one of the key players in the forces arrayed against them was none other than criminal kingpin, Saditava Mok. Had that been a ruse meant to deceive or manipulate them into rash action? Did Dezeiri work for someone who wanted Mok eliminated, and they figured having the ConFed fleet take him out would be easier than doing it themselves? Dezeiri would need to be watched closely. The synth had an ulterior motive, the Machine could feel it.
It then shifted a sizable percentage of its processing power over to analyzing this new weapon that had been brought against them. It was a Noxu weapon, no question about that. The Machine even knew which family of munitions it was from and recognized it as an outdated design that would be easy for the beings of this region to manufacture and difficult to defend against. It was fortunate the valuable construction cradles were removed before the attack. The Machine had expected Mok to mobilize his composite fleet against the biggest threat: the weapon he appeared to be building. It assumed the fleet would target the hull sections but would not needlessly kill civilians on the construction cradles. Now, it realized Mok would have erased much of its needed capability in a single, deft strike had the crews been just a little slower in assembling the hull mockup and moving the equipment from the system.
As Dezeiri said, Saditava Mok was not to be underestimated. Not again.
"Fleet Captain Cofero," the Machine said aloud, opening a slip-com channel to one of its handpicked field commanders heading up a taskforce he'd deployed. It took a few minutes for the captain to break free and answer the request.
"Sir," Cofero said, his face coming into view as the tall nepetol sat down.
"Your taskforce is nearing the Enatia System where we know Saditava Mok is currently residing," the Machine said without bothering with greetings. "The initial intelligence was that Mok would be unprotected because his fleet was engaged elsewhere. We now know this isn't the case. Continue on, but do not commit your forces or fully engage until you are certain he is not hiding a defense force within the system."
"We do not fear some petty criminal, sir."
"Mok commands a military that's the fifth largest in the quadrant," the Machine warned. "Do not be overconfident or reckless. It is more important at this juncture to find out where the Cridal and Eshquarian ships are than it is to eliminate Mok himself."
"I will not let you down. Cofero out."
"If you had replaced your taskforce commanders with my kind as we discussed, you wouldn't have to keep explaining yourself over and over to these limited biotics," Acuri said from the open doorway. The Machine activated the holographic avatar and looked over at his second in command.
"That would cause more problems than it would solve at this particular junction, and you know that," the Machine said. "I will not explain myself again."
"Of course not," Acuri said, sounding contrite. "I am just looking forward to the next phase of our plan."
"Patience. Your kind lives for centuries. There will be plenty of time for you to enjoy your conquest over your makers."
"I have news of the—"
"I am well aware of the rebellion's new weapon," the Machine said. "It is a minor inconvenience. Our real weapon is being built at a location that is not easily found. There will be no logistic chains to track, no ships to follow, and no personnel to question. The site will be isolated until the project is completed."
"You said I had new orders?"
"You have an extremely important tasking," the Machine said, the avatar walking over to where the synth stood. "A small team is coming, confident they have a weapon that can destroy me. They will attack where I am the weakest. I want you and your team there to meet them. You will need to follow my specific instructions if you're to beat them."
"Tell me how."
26
"Sir, we've gotten reports from Enatia that a sizable ConFed formation has meshed in near the system border."
"Interesting," Mok said. "Are they making any demands yet?"
"Not as of yet," Similan said.
Enatia was the name of the planet that Mok's private operation was based out of. A little-known fact was that Mok didn't just base himself on Enatia, he actually owned the planet and the entire system. While a single person owning a planet wasn't completely unheard of, owning one that had such a large and thriving population was. What made his ownership of Enatia even more unusual and, some argued, ethically questionable, was that most of the population was indigenous, not from colonization.
He'd tiptoed right up to the line of half a dozen ConFed Charter forbiddances while brokering the deal, but in the end, he did what he did to keep the planet safe. The star system sat at the edge of ConFed space, and they conveniently liked to exclude it from scheduled patrols often enough that mineral raiders had become a problem. They'd swoop in, steal the raw material right out from under the mostly passive indigenous population, and then leave without paying them a single credit. Once Mok found out what was happening, he stepped into stop it but, somehow, he ended up accepting an entreaty by the local government to take possession of the planet. The end result was that once the raiders learned that the head of the Blazing Sun syndicate put Enatia under his personal protection, the raids suddenly stopped.
Mok, of course, took the lion's share of the system's mineral wealth as payment for him keeping the single system safe from the region's pirates and occasional raid sanctioned by the Saabror Protectorate. He was still a criminal, after all, and the deal was mutually beneficial, albeit with the scales tipped heavily in his favor. What many didn't realize, even the Points of his own organization, was that Mok's unfathomable wealth didn't come from racketeering, protection schemes, or hijacking cargo ships. That was all just petty stuff to conceal the fact that Mok had spent his years since rising to power brokering these types of deals with independent systems all over the quadrant.
It was all laundered through about a dozen different currencies and twice as many independent exchanges before being pumped back into the ConFed's centralized banking system. More still was kept in tangible assets in case there was something like a rebellion trying to bring the ConFed down from the inside, just as an example. It was how he funded the private military, a force that was the fifth largest freestanding military in the quadrant, and kept his bloodthirsty, ambitious underlings at bay. So far, Mok had only committed a fraction of his forces to Scleesz and Burke's rebellion, hoping to hold enough back in reserve for the lawless aftermath that might follow if they succeeded.
"Let the locals handle it for now," Mok said. "There's a good chance they're not entirely sure I'm here…if they're even here for me at all. If we start transmitting greetings or challenges, they'll know I'm probably on the surface, and we'll lose a strateg
ic advantage."
"I obey," Similan said, forwarding Mok's orders on his com unit.
"But just in case, perhaps we should alert the RRF commander to be ready," Mok said. The Rapid Response Force was an impressive squadron of warships that sat just outside detection range when Mok was on the planet, ready to jump in at a moment's notice. "Tell her that if she loses contact with the base, don't waste time trying to raise us or sending in recon ships. I want her to come in hot, guns blazing. Make sure she understands there can be no hesitation just because they're ConFed. Those days are over, it would seem."
"I obey."
They were in the dimly-lit, expansive command center Mok had dubbed The Hive. It was a large, domed room within his new property's bunker complex that had hundreds of monitors and twenty com operators drawing in real-time data from every part of his expansive empire. The ability to track and coordinate had come at great financial cost as it was designed and implemented by one of the finest engineering firms on Khepri, the place where all such things seemed to come from. The engineers who had designed the system had wanted to use one of their newest AIs to run it, but Mok had insisted on the old-fashioned team of operators parsing the raw feeds as they came in. Given the trouble they've had with insane AIs and borderline insane synths lately, that choice almost seemed prophetic.
"The ConFed ships are coming down into the system," one of the operators said. "They're staying in the same formation, clustered right on top of each other."
"If they stay like that, we won't need the RRF," Mok said. "The land-based weapons we have would be enough."
"Still no broadcast demands," Similan said. "The local controllers are demanding they state their intent and halt their progress."
Mok smiled but didn't respond. The locals had started to develop a definite swagger once they realized that, even though Mok was scooping out of their coffers with both hands, he would drop the hammer from orbit on anybody who messed with them. What bothered him about the whole thing was that the force they sent was so large he didn't think this was just the usual intimidation tactics to let him know Blazing Sun had been making too much of a nuisance of itself lately. That was a force big enough to take out the escort ships he allowed everyone to know about and land a sizable force on the ground to dig him out of his bunker.
The Pandora Paradox Page 20
