"Sir! We're getting reports in from—"
"Bizbin Minor is saying they're under attack, sir!"
"—the Uncete Mining Corporation that a ConFed fleet has opened fire on the orbital platforms!"
"Gerreck Atomic is calling in with—"
"Everybody!" Mok barked, clapping his hands. "Put it on the monitors! Stop screaming out randomly and focus on what you're doing!"
The news was grim. Thirty-one simultaneous attacks on companies and systems spanning from the edge of the Concordian Cluster all the way to the Core Worlds…all of them Blazing Sun front companies or strongholds. The ConFed had just declared war on his syndicate and, from what he was seeing, they were winning.
"The force here in Enatia—"
"Is meant to keep me pinned down while the ConFed dismantles my organization piece by piece," Mok replied calmly to Similan.
"Shall I summon the RRF?"
"There is no point," Mok said. "They've already won the day. Send word through our network to cut and run. Nobody stand and fight. Let them have it all."
"I obey."
The dozens of corporations, some of which actually did produce a legitimate work product, were how Blazing Sun capitalized all of its ill-gotten gains. Since the syndicate had been dragged away from narcotics and trafficking by Mok over the years, most of their money had to be funneled through legitimate enterprise. Mining companies, energy producers, freight hauler fleets…all of them able to secure lucrative contracts through intimidation and bribery of government officials. Blazing Sun's real power was undercutting the competition and digging themselves in as service providers on open-ended contracts. The periphery stuff like gun running and the few narco-cartels that operated under the banner were mostly just to give Blazing Sun the public image it needed to keep politicians scared of them.
That's not to say they weren't actually all killers and pirates at heart, just that Mok had done an admirable job in harnessing their energy and propensity for violence into something that could almost be considered legitimate business. In his previous life as a spymaster for one of the quadrant's largest powers, Mok learned quickly that the only difference between criminal cartels and governments was better marketing.
"We have lost much, but the on-site captains managed to save a sizable number of ships, purged all of the servers and data cores, and many of them blew up their own holdings before escaping," Similan said quietly. "But the battle still rages in many areas."
"That's something, I suppose," Mok said, sounding disinterested. Similan gave him an odd look.
"I do not understand how they were able to pull off such a coordinated attack without us knowing," he said. "We've been able to hold them off all these years, even expand into the Core Worlds themselves." At this Mok, actually threw his head back and laughed.
"Oh, Similan," he said, still chuckling, "that's the dirty little secret about organized crime at any level: it can only exist as long as the government allows it to. They will always have the martial power and the good will of the citizenry to wipe out grubby little bottom feeders like me any time they choose."
"Then why let us prey on their citizens?"
"Because those put in positions of power over others tend to share two common traits," Mok said, his eyes on the monitors that depicted his crumbling empire. "They are weak, and they are greedy. You could argue that most are also stupid, but that's just another type of weakness. We easily bribe high-level officials, judges, legislators, and executives to let us do whatever we want. The bonus for them is that they then get to sell us to their people as the enemy they're fighting against, so the people should definitely keep them in power to keep fighting the good fight.
"The Machine has no such flaws. It can't be bought, it can't be intimidated with exposing its dirty dealings to the public, and it doesn't care about public opinion polls. Someone like me has no power over something like that, and it just reminded me of that fact in a very costly lesson. Somehow, it must have found out I was involved with the rebellion, and it decided to take me out but in a way that makes me ineffective and an object lesson to others."
"Sir, Admiral Colleran's taskforce is reporting in," an operator said above the din. "Target destroyed but appeared to be a decoy. There was only approximately fifteen percent of the mass expected left. The construction cradles were gone, no enemy fleet presence. They did say the new missiles performed flawlessly."
"And the other taskforce?" Mok asked.
"No word yet, sir. We've reached out multiple times, but no ship is responding."
"Keep me advised. Tell Admiral Colleran not to return to any of our primary rally points," Mok said before turning to Similan. "A ruse?"
"An elaborate one, if it was," Similan said. "Perhaps they did not know about our new munitions and expected us to throw all of our ships against such a large target."
"They expected me to deploy the rebel ships to protect my own holdings," Mok mused. "So, they put something together that would pull the bulk of them away so they'd be clear for this attack. The weapon may have been a fake, but those construction cradles were real. They took those with them for a reason."
"Likely to build the actual weapon, not a shell that looks like one," Similan guessed.
"But the Machine still needs that information Jason was talking about…that Ancient power grid."
Before Similan could respond, the monitors around the Hive started blinking on and off and going crazy with some sort of interference. Mok frowned but said nothing. He watched whatever it was play out with the same calm, implacable demeanor he displayed whenever he was pushed or stressed.
"We have an incoming unauthorized Nexus signal! Anti-intrusion software can't block it, sir!"
"Interesting," Mok murmured. The screens all went dark, and then the largest of them near what was considered the front of the room came back up, displaying the face of a being whose species Mok didn't recognize.
"Saditava Mok," the Machine said. "I thought it was time we finally talked. You've been a bit of a nuisance lately."
"So, you're it," Mok said, stepping forward into the circle where he knew the room's holographic imagers would pick him up. There was obviously no point hiding now. "You're the Machine."
"You're much quicker than your companions, I'll give you that," the Machine said. "Have you enjoyed the show?"
"It was well-executed," Mok said. "You made sure I was distracted by your fleet at the edge of my home-system so it would be more difficult to coordinate with my forces as you launched a multi-headed attack on my entire operation. There's not a lot I could have done to defend against that even with prior warning."
"No?"
"Not the way we were structured." Mok shrugged. "A large organization of ambitious, antisocial criminals isn't something that lends itself to tight command and control. The way I kept ahead of the ConFed back when it was still under the control of the Grand Adjudicators was by paying out massive amounts in bribes, blackmail, and the occasional object lesson if some councilmember decided to gain a sense of honor. Since you can't be bribed, blackmailed, or killed, my options were limited."
"You are everything that is wrong with this region of space, yet I find you utterly fascinating," the Machine said. "You would have been a dangerous opponent were you a politician."
"Maybe, maybe not," Mok said. "I'm a realist with a strong sense of self-preservation. If the wind starts blowing too hard in one direction, I don't normally try to stand against it just on principle. Which brings us to our current predicament."
"Which is?" the Machine asked. Mok seemed to have it genuinely off its rhythm, and now it was sitting back, letting him dictate the pace and direction of the conversation.
"I can only assume you didn't force your way in past the latest and greatest in Kheprian security software just to gloat over taking down one little crime syndicate," Mok said, clasping his hands behind his back. "This is where you will ask me for something—or threaten me—and I'm guessing it has something
to do with the fact we only sent a handful of ships to knock out your fake secret weapon."
"Yes," the Machine said. "Imagine my surprise when you showed up with Noxu technology. Ten matter-disruption warheads…far more efficient than crashing your cobbled fleet against such a large, unyielding target. I'm mildly curious where you may have got them, but I think I can safely say there's only one logical answer: Jason Burke.
"He has apparently found something I've been looking for, and he found a lot of it. The knowledge of the species that created me is scattered about the entire galaxy, much of it concentrated in this quadrant as the Noxu took special delight in watching your peoples crawl from the ooze and evolve. What else did young Captain Burke find?"
"He's keeping a tight lid on that," Mok said. "He is deathly afraid of Noxu tech getting out into the open in this quadrant. I just can't imagine why he'd think that would be dangerous."
"Then keep your secrets, Mok," the Machine said, its face going slack and void of all emotional inflection. "For the short time you'll have left, enjoy your shallow victory. It hurts me not at all, but in the end, it will have cost you everything."
The image flickered and disappeared. As soon as it did, all the displays flashed back to life and showed their normal data feeds. Mok looked around the Hive, trying to make sense of the odd direction the conversation had taken at the end. He had thought he was making headway, keeping the AI guessing and interested, but the reaction at the end told him it had guessed what he was doing and ended the conversation.
"ConFed fleet is moving again, sir. Coming straight for the planet. They're charging weapons!"
"Two more formations have jumped into the system!"
"I can see that," Mok said. "Calm yourselves. Similan, begin evacuating the compound. I don't think they're bluffing this time."
"Shall I call in the RRF, sir?"
"I don't think so," Mok said, watching as the screens populated with the number and types of ship flooding into his system. "This is a full-blown strike group. We'd just be throwing away ships and quality crews to delay what's inevitable. Please, prep our own exit plan."
"I obey."
Given his background in espionage and his current career as a criminal kingpin, Mok had highly-sophisticated bugout systems in place for just such an occasion. The ground staff at the operations compound and at satellite facilities around the planet evacuated to waiting shuttles that would take them up to high-speed cargo ships that sat in orbit as a contingency. The evacuation protocols demanded that the operators go scorched-earth on the way out, destroying any on-site data cores and servers before leaving.
Mok's own escape plan was a bit simpler. Since it was plausible someone might get in close enough to intercept any ships lifting off from his compound, Mok had a tunnel built that ran away from the property towards the mountains to the south. The tunnel was kept under vacuum, and the transit car would blast him away from his besieged operations center at just under the speed of sound. It would deposit him in a hidden hangar carved into the side of a mountain and obscured from the view of orbiting ships, an idea he stole from Jason Burke, where he had a top of the line, combat rated courier ship that was custom built by the shipyards of Aracoria.
The ship was designed to elude detection and evade capture, even coming equipped with a specialized slip-drive that could be engaged the moment the ship was clear of the atmosphere. Most slip-drives wouldn't even let a pilot try to energize the field generators when they were so close to the gravity well of something the size of a planet. The small ship was crewed by six, three pilots and three copilots that rotated shifts around the clock whenever Mok was planetside.
"The orders have been given. Our centers are being evacuated, sir," Similan said. "It is time for us to retreat as well."
"Of course," Mok said, his jaw twitching in irritation. The operations center had only been up and running for a year, and now, here he was, arming the charges that would bring the whole thing down and bury the bunker complex.
After entering in the proper commands, he followed Similan and the armed guards who stood on either side of the doorway to the waiting tunnel car. They had to pass through an airlock hatch since the tunnel was already under vacuum and sat down in the plush seats while the automated systems closed the hatches and accelerated them away from the doomed complex.
"What will you do now, sir?" Similan asked. "It is a lot to rebuild."
"Blazing Sun is over," Mok said without emotion. "This attack will fracture the centralized control, and all the independent outfits will go back to managing themselves and their own local territories. The Twelve Points will try to exert some control over the chaos, but they'll all likely be killed for their efforts as their own underlings see the turmoil as a chance for quick advancement.
"The narco-gangs and trafficking rings we forced out of business will come roaring back. The people they preyed upon, now used to them being gone, will be easy victims on many planets. The vacuum created in the Cluster will spawn a gang war, and whoever comes out on top will likely be a ruthless, dangerous group that will terrorize the local populations. Perhaps I was a bit hasty in my zeal to help remove the Machine."
Similan said nothing. He knew his boss was just thinking aloud and that it wasn't really an invitation to a back and forth conversation. Mok's assessment of the situation was precisely right, and he would only become angry if Similan tried to sooth his guilt by disagreeing about the carnage that would follow in the wake of Blazing Sun's demise.
Saditava Mok had been a different kind of boss, and he had forged a different kind of syndicate. Under his leadership the civilian populations were largely left unmolested, and the real violence and killing remained among the members of rival outfits. Mok considered them combatants and didn't begrudge his people taking the fight to them, but he would have one of his own lieutenants killed if their actions caused undue casualties among the general populations on the planets they controlled.
"Sir, the pilot has checked in, and the ship is ready to go the moment we arrive," one of his guards said. "Less than two minutes."
"Thanks," Mok said. "How long until the ConFed ships are within weapons range of our transports?"
"They're still over nine hours away at their current speed, sir," the guard said, consulting the terminal attached to his seat.
"All transports will be well away by the time they're in range," Similan said, also looking at the incoming sensor feeds.
"When we're aboard the ship, check the status of my other personal properties," Mok said. "Issue general alerts and have any that feel threatened evacuated."
"I obey."
They all leaned back as the car decelerated sharply, coming to a jolting stop. There was a reverberating boom as a massive pressure hatch swung shut behind them, sealing that end of the tunnel and letting them equalize the pressure around the car, eliminating the need for the airlock system they'd used at the Hive to enter. Once the hatch opened, Mok could feel the subsonic thrum of the waiting ship.
The hangar was built to be just large enough to accommodate the ship and the living arrangements for the crew. Any heavy maintenance would need to be done at a starport. Mok walked at his normal pace towards the waiting ship, two of the crew waiting at the bottom of the boarding ramp for them.
"Welcome aboard, sir," the shorter one said. "We're very sorry to be of service to you today."
Mok actually laughed at that. "How long have you been waiting to use that, Falee?" he asked.
"Almost two years, sir," she said with a straight face. "The captain said that as soon as you're strapped in, we'll depart. We will easily avoid any attempt by the ConFed fleet to intercept us…if they even detect our departure."
"Then let's be on our way," Mok said, gesturing for Similan and the two guards to board before him.
True to Falee's word, by the time Mok had taken his seat and accepted a drink from one of the crew, he felt the ship rise smoothly and the landing struts retract with barely audible
thumps. The soft hum of the drive engaging told him they were away. He leaned back and took a long pull off his drink and sighed.
"We've cleared the mountains, sir," the pilot's voice came over the cabin speakers. "We'll be in orbit shortly, and then meshing-out to our first waypoint."
"Cheer up, everybody," Mok said, looking around at all the dejected, glum faces. "We got away clean and, with any luck, the Machine will only have known about our more public operations. Let's get our heads back into the game. There's still a lot of work to do."
27
"We'll see you guys when you get there."
"Copy that. Good luck, Captain."
Jason closed the channel and engaged the slip-drive on their borrowed ConFed cargo shuttle. It was a tight fit with everybody crammed into the cargo hold, but the battlesynths didn't carry much equipment and were able to squeeze in along the sides to make room for the Zeta warriors who packed more gear.
The flight would barely be twenty minutes long, so Jason wasn't too worried about their comfort. They had dropped the Devil's Fortune out of slip-space just before their target system so they could load up into the shuttle and disembark. The plan was that they would arrive, refuse to broadcast ident codes, and hope that drew the ConFed cruiser in to investigate, so when the Devil's Fortune arrived, Kage wouldn't need to try and hunt the other ship down if it happened to be on the other side of the system. He just hoped the plan didn't work too well, and they came under fire or were grappled before the corvette got there.
"Nervous?" Crusher asked.
"Why would I be nervous?"
The Pandora Paradox Page 21
