Chp-113
Roius
Minda System
Chaos.
Numbers ran through his mind, the information cable plugged into his neural interface pumping data directly to his brain.
The sector was in chaos.
As the data compiled, it spoke of consequences. Shipments not arriving, ports clogged or empty, patrols sailing through darkness, no way to find the threat.
And all he could do was run the numbers.
The info cable detached with a hiss while his head burned with the new depth of information.
"Secretary Roius, the courier ships have returned. Reports indicate a rise in piracy sector-wide!"
Opportunity. They could smell it. With the entire holonet system offline so suddenly, remaining pirate elements were bound to take advantage of the chaos.
"Get into contact with the Sector Admiral. We need her expertise immediately! And order any patrols we can contact to hold position near hyperlanes, check every ship going through."
The aide nodded, running off to complete the order. If the situation had been different, he would've taken a second to appreciate the respect he received. A rarity for a cyborg like him.
This was not the time.
A ping through the local system. A ship, Guild IFF with high level clearance. He accepted the call.
"This is Guild Ship Aurora, we have an urgent message for the Moffs Office." The voice was rushed, an undertone of panic clear.
"Affirmative. This is Secretary Roius of the Moffs office. Go ahead."
"The Guildmistress has ordered emergency Guild actions to create stability. She has ordered Guild vessels to act as intermediaries and is attempting to ensure supplies flow. The full list of orders she's given the Guild is being transmitted now."
His PDA, connected to the station's systems, pinged with the new information. He quickly plugged the PDA into a smaller neural port in his augments meant for smaller data streams.
Within a few seconds, his understanding of the situation increased. Guildmistress Sabrir had correctly identified the three day rule. Any on-demand economy, such as the Myto sectors, relied on constant streams of supplies instead of massed local storage.
Meaning most stores, especially those dealing in food, only kept enough product for three days. Now, thankfully the Myto Sector hadn't been an on-demand economy for more than half a year, so local storage was still common even if reduced. But that only extended that time period to a week at best.
The bigger problem was financial. The report covered orders to have every local Guild office issue a notice that they would only be dealing in direct transfers. After all, they couldn't well connect to the bank accounts of people three star systems away without the holonet.
Smart, and it would stifle some of the worst effects. But there were other concerns.
Medicine. While many planets in the sector were still somewhat self-sufficient in terms of food, medicine was often an import. Sector officials had spent months assisting governors in structuring their taxes and other income in order to allow nearly every system to have adequate medical facilities. But those facilities relied on imported medical products.
The info cable told him other things.
A list of ships continued jumping into the system, demanding to know what was happening. Some were governors, others private concerns. From magnates to Muun bankers to ISB agents.
The system was never meant to deal with a load like this. Not without the central pillar. Not without the Moff here to deal with the political side of things.
"Sir, the Vigil has just entered the system!"
Roius didn't sigh in relief. He wasn't a man who sighed. But he wanted to.
"Get in contact, immediately!"
After this, he was taking all three months of yearly PTO he got at the same time.
–
Las
Chaos was a part of the job I'd come to find. Sometimes, it was low and simmering. The kind of chaos that was waiting for the right release valve, the kind that built rebellions. And other times, chaos was just bullshit. As though life was a particularly precocious chimp that had decided to throw fecal matter at you because it was funny.
My job, though at this point I found it more a duty to the people rather than a job given my employer was quite shit, was to deal with such chaos when it arose. There were many other duties, of course, but this sat chief among them in times of crisis.
This meant that all other duties, such as dealing with high level officials not pertinent to the solution, or otherwise playing the various political games that kept things running, were of secondary importance at best.
The ISB apparently thought otherwise.
"This crisis is temporary, Agent, of that I can assure you. While the cause is still indeterminate, it will take no more than a week for the relays to be brought back online. Once priority problems are dealt with, the ISB will receive a full report."
That seemed to anger the man before me, a rail thin and unhealthily pale individual wearing the uniform of an ISB agent. Still, he kept walking beside me, Myr'thos, and Roius as we made our way down the hall, my goal being the situation room.
"Are you implying that the ISB is not a priority to you, Moff Mola?"
I took a deep breath and stopped, bringing the group to a halt. Turning to him, the face he held was one of poorly hidden smugness. A new recruit, or maybe just the dumbest the Lieutenant had available. Prick.
"My duty, Agent, is to administrate this sector by order of the Empire. This sector is currently undergoing a crisis. Over a hundred systems face shortages of vital medical supplies. Critical production lines are stalled. The sector is in crisis. So no, my priority is not the ISB, because unless the ISB can fix this crisis then it is of secondary importance."
The angry look returned, but by then I'd already started walking again. His attempts to catch up to me were waylaid by a quick gesture to Myr'thos.
I would've liked to watch as he was bodily dragged back to the hangar bay, but I had bigger problems to deal with.
The situation room itself was not very large. The design was spartan, plain grey walls and a holo projector and computer in the center.
Around the projector stood a few people. Sector General Yulitra, Sector Admiral Veers, Guildmistress Sabrir and myself, alongside Roius.
"The attacks seem a mix of deliberate sabotage and sophisticated cyber attacks." Started Roius, a cable from his skull to the projector allowing him hands free control.
"There are approximately 382 holonet relays sector wide. Of them, we've identified the status of just 40 through courier ships passing messages. 12 showed signs of physical damage, some form of ion-based explosive seems the best early guess. The remaining 28 had no evidence of physical attack, but show signs of internal code damage. Slicer teams are in-route."
"How long until we have a positive ID on all relays?" Asked Yulitra, eyes narrowed as she studied the projection.
"Based on the current rate of identification, 3 days. Likely less as governors send for inspections independently."
"I've already sent orders to patrol groups to stay put at hyperlane exits, but it's a patchwork job at best. Piracy will see a major increase until this is done." Said Veers.
"We need supplies…" I murmured, reading the data straight from my PDA. "The sector produces the bare minimum in medical supplies, and requires a bare minimum of 80,000 tons a week. Roius, get me a death toll projection for that."
"Of course, sir."
The problem was simple, to be honest. Demand. Specifically, on-demand shipping. Before the holonet upgrades, bandwidth for the holonet was limited. Only Imperial officials, or those with money, had the ability to make real time calls.
Which meant most companies couldn't get orders until well after the message was sent. So they stockpiled everything. Food, raw ore, finished ships, it didn't matter. On planets like Belladoon and other industry-focused areas, warehouses made up nearly 90% of any industrial parks space. They needed to keep 6 months worth of supplies on hand at any given point in time.
But with the holonet? That dropped to just shy of 60%, with parts and supplies being moved in and out constantly. Any given part was liable to be in a warehouse for a maximum of 30 days before it was used or moved. Oftentimes, far less. During production booms, a part would sometimes be on the shelf for no more than a few hours.
"Our food situation seems secure…" I continued. "That'll be a critical point. We'd need to ensure deliveries continue and stockpiles are made. Rationing shouldn't be needed but…"
"I'll send the order to have local army units spread word of rationing techniques. They aren't official army doctrine, but every boot camp worth its salt teaches it on the side. It should help with any local shortages." Said Yulitra. Her voice was calming in a sense. She was the oldest here, and could reasonably pass for the mother or grandmother of the others in the room. That sort of experience was reliable.
"Guild ships are already organizing merchants, sir. We've offered premium short term contracts to merchants to continue shipments ASAP. Though I'd like to coordinate mercenary detachments with you, Admiral." And there was Darna, talking with the same tone of voice she seemed to never drop. A professional calm of sorts. Veers responded with a nod, PDA already out as they traded data.
"Good. As for me…" I could feel a headache start to stir in the back of my skull. "I'll have to make a call. How long until the local relay is up again?"
"Engineers are nearly finished, sir."
"I'll be in my office then. Alert me if anything occurs."
The trek to my office did nothing to assuage my headache, though mercifully it stayed low and out of my way. Mugwuffins reassuring purrs vibrated through my body from her perch on my shoulders helping soothe the stress.
Once in my office, I connected to the holonet. It was a fuzzy connection, but it worked well enough.
My first two ideas on who to call went out the window as soon as they materialized in my head. The Braxant sector barely produced their own blasters, I doubted they had medicine to spare. And the Governor-General had been increasingly distant and unreliable.
So I had to look closer, unfortunately.
Despite our preexisting trade arrangements, the Veragi and Raioballo sectors lacked any medical infrastructure, or they wouldn't import it through the Guild. And they'd barely agreed to my proposals for Guild expansion as it was. The two idiots would demand I kowtow a thousand times and give up my seat for one of their kids or something.
As such, my first call went out to a neighbor. Moff Moew of the Obtrexta Sector.
"Moff Mola? What a surprise." The first thing one noticed about Moew was that she was clearly trying too hard. She showed all the signs of someone who'd undergone extensive cosmetic surgery, and given you could see most of the signs it was the expensive core-world kind either.
"Yes, its quite a surprise for me too, Moff Moew. Still, as much as I'd like to engage in pleasantries, I am quite rushed."
She pouted, which just looked wrong on a woman likely twice my age with cheeks that looked too smooth to be skin. Clearly she felt younger than she was. "What a shame. Well then, what is it? Are the Muuns giving you trouble? I'm always happy to help negotiate."
A lie, that much was clear. Even I had a better working relationship with the banking clans than she did, despite her sector housing Muunilist. She'd spent years in internal political plays that I wasn't about to get involved in.
"Not today, no. Recently, my sector has undergone a crisis. Some sort of coordinated attack has crippled the holonet relays sector wide. It caused blockages and major delays on all imports, most importantly medicine."
The gleam in her eyes sharpened at that. "Why, that sounds terrible! I'd love to help, you see. But those Muuns, they keep blocking my efforts! Their machinations make it impossible to do anything, you see…"
Shit. Getting on the banking clan's bad side was a no-go, especially since we had a working relationship.
A ping on my PDA alerted me to a message. It was for Roius, the death toll projection was two thirds done. The ache in my head moved forward now, closer to the eyes.
"...How many tons of medical supplies could you provide within the week?"
A finger went to her chin as she pursed her lips, eyes jumping to the sky in a childish thinking pose. "Well…I'd have to look at the specifics, but at least thirty thousand tons. Triple that within the month."
Not enough, not even close to enough. "Thank you for the kind offer, Moff Moew. I'll have to consult with my people, but I'll be sure to get back to you."
"Of course, Moff Mola. I wish you well in your…endeavors." She blew a flirty kiss at me through the holo, and I forced my grimace down, smiling instead.
The next call went to the Clacis sector Moff, Callron. A man with a gnarly handlebar mustache and overall biker look that clashed with his Imperial uniform.
"Moff Mola." He said simply, once the connection went through. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I wish it was a pleasure, Moff Callron. Unfortunately, my sector's holonet relays are down due to some form of sabotage. Medical supplies are scarce, and the sector is in need of an infusion."
He raised a single, solitary eyebrow. Him and I had never formally interacted before this, so it was no wonder he was surprised.
"It seems, Moff Mola, that you simply lack the experience to deal with this on your own…It's a miracle the Governor-General ever saw fit to promote one as young as yourself." Each word was said with weight, as though he was speaking the word of God. He couldn't quite hide the smugness in his tone.
Before I could respond, beg, anything, he cut the line. Fuck. I knew my promotion to Moff wasn't the most popular thing, given I wasn't even thirty and had no political connections beforehand. The fact that I supported Hiral's rise to Governor-General likely didn't help.
Another message from Roius. Projections nearly complete. The ache was pounding now. Hot coco only seemed to make it worse.
I looked back at the list of sectors. Some were too far away for what few relays we had functioning to reach. Others simply lacked the production of medicine or trade connections to achieve what was needed.
Until my eyes fell on one sector. One that, despite every bone in my body telling me it was wrong, fit all the criteria.
The Velcar Sector.
–
Shorter than usual, but I don't feel like writing more or stuffing more into a single chapter. Bloat might take the tension away.
Trying to use this as an opportunity to showcase the political sphere a little more since its gone unused for a little while.
And sorry for being gone for so long, just haven't felt that spark ya know? The muse hit for a dozen other ideas, chief among them being a Battletech (Been playing a lot of MW5M) story but not much for this. And yet, this is the story I must finish. Every time I've tried to branch my attention, I fail. So I'm ride or die for this story till it ends and I start another one.
On the baking front, I tried making banana bread cockaigne and it was pure unfettered ass. I love the Joy of Cooking cookbook but this shit stinks man. The lemons don't do jack for me, gotta be honest. But that Texas sheet cake recipe is still a banger no matter how many times I make it. Peak.
Remember kids, if your 'Mech isn't carrying ten of the same weapon, it's shit.
-Black Knight laser boat gang.