Chapter 14
A paradise of Sin had evolved over the centuries in the southern hemisphere of Caledon.
New Antioch had been a small, relatively unknown city during the Rebellion. Not a tourist destination like Cosa, lacking the manufacturing industry of Trier or the off-planet commerce like Caledonia, its larger sister cities mainly had ignored it until the Duke had died.
Like wolves, sensing weakness and the draw of profits, businesses and corporations had swooped in to fill the void left by the Baron’s imprisonment. A triumvirate of corporations seized Trier, bringing in cheap, pollution causing machines and exploiting the local population for inexpensive labour. The Imperial Bank purchased large tracts of land in Cosa.
But it was New Antioch where one individual focused his attention. Ellis Morrow had a vision, a dream, and he would make it a reality through any means necessary. He left his home planet behind, moving to the lawless Caledon to construct his goal.
It would be a city of Sin, a haven for every type of vice imaginable. Its isolation and lack of government oversight had led to a unique opportunity, the chance to create a ‘Free City.’ One without the burden of laws, morality or ethics.
Drugs, prostitution, gambling, and any depravity could be obtained for the right price in the Free City of New Antioch.
For two hundred years, Ellis Morrow had built a kingdom, a dynasty, with him as its lord and ruler. He had his hands deep in every pocket, taking his cut. His people’s ears were all over, listening into conversations and selling secrets or blackmailing for his silence.
The Free City shined at night with neon lights and advertisements that reached the sky, its streets filled with revellers and partygoers. Drug addicts and drunks brushed shoulders with the wealthy socialites who came from across the Empire to experience its vile filth, safely escorted by bodyguards and soldiers with the freedom to murder whoever crossed them.
Everything had its price in New Antioch, even a life.
During the day, the sun casts its light on an army of workers who cleaned its streets, wiping away the blood and filth in preparation for another night, their labour a repayment of their debts to Antioch’s King.
Business deals that would be illegal elsewhere were carried out by the light of day in cafes and restaurants. Their anonymity was assured, and their actions protected, as long as Morrow got his cut of the profits.
The Uncrowned King of Antioch was currently in his office on the top floor of the tallest skyscraper in the city, overseeing last night’s profits.
Ellis Morrow was tall, still appearing youthful despite his nearly four hundred years of life. His pure white hair slicked back out of his face was the only indication of his age. His money afforded him rejuvenation and regeneration procedures that were out of reach by most of the Empire, ensuring he would be alive to rule his fiefdom for many more years.
Dressed in a cashmere and wool suit imported from Old Terra, Morrow sat at a desk made of extinct Blackwood. The unbroken piece of the rare wood was the largest in existence. He had obtained it at an auction centuries ago, having once belonged to a Duke of Caledon thousands of years before.
Morrow checked through the columns of profits and loss, a projection screen on his desk showing pie charts and graphs. He swiped his hand through the Holo, moving it to a prediction of the end-of-year fiscal forecasts.
“These god-damned bribes are bleeding me dry.” Morrow muttered, pulling up a list of amounts credited to prominent individuals on Caledon and the surrounding space.
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He heavily censored and controlled the Net in New Antioch, employing an army of technicians and hackers to scrub his name from unwanted attention. He relied on blackmail to keep the silence of those visiting his city. No one wanted their activities disclosed on the Net, and risk reaching Imperial eyes.
The bribes were for those interested parties that avoided his city but could make trouble in the future. A small amount of money to keep the Imperials away, or anyone from attempting to push him out, went far in his business.
What infuriated him the most was the amounts had been increasing as he became more successful. It was getting harder to hide New Antioch from inquiring outsiders, which was an existential threat to his bottom line.
Pushing the screen away in disgust at the losses, he pulled out a detailed cost report of last night’s activities.
One of his wealthier patrons from Helios, a planet nearly on the other side of the galaxy, had gone on a rampage last night. She burned down a building, killing dozens of his workers and other guests, and finally crashed a stolen hovercar into a storefront.
Luckily, neither the store nor the building had been owned by him, or he would genuinely be enraged. He shook his head at the amount required for compensation before adding it to the woman’s tab. She was accumulating quite the bill, but he knew she could pay for it.
Chuckling as he doubled the markup on the amount of damage, Morrow was about to send it down to his administrators to finalize when his assistant walked into the room. A young man, impeccably dressed in a business suit and tie, had a worried frown as he walked swiftly towards the blackwood desk.
“What is it?” Morrow asked, closing the holo projection with a swipe of his hand.
Morrow distrusted implants, calling them nothing but Imperial Spy tech. His assistant was carrying a Datapad under his arm, an outdated piece of technology but secure. Having an old Datapad on his isolated and controlled system was better than Ocular Implants connected directly to the Imperial Net.
He forbade them from entering his office and restricted their use by his employees.
“The Governor is addressing the Planet in five minutes. They wouldn’t give the press details on what it’s about, but Baron Caledon has been seen around the estate.” The assistant said, placing the Datapad onto the table and tapping a few buttons.
A holo projection activated, hanging suspended above the desk from the emitter embedded into the display. It showed the banner of the Caledon Barony, the red stag on a field of black. A line of text scrolled along the bottom of the projection, repeating the information that Morrow’s assistant had just relayed.
‘Governor Sylla to speak at 9 AM CCT.’ The words of the announcement were written in bold white letters.
The sound was on mute, but Morrow could see several reporters speculating the reason for a sudden press conference, their mouths moving silently to the side of the Caledonian House Symbol as they discussed with each other.
“This is going to be trouble,” Morrow predicted. Taping his finger against the hard surface of the desk, he thought for a moment before nodding.
“Have security prepare for an assault. We may have to drag this Baron kicking and screaming into the present if he thinks he can push us around. It’s time he learned that things have changed since he was last here.” His assistant nodded, turning to leave the room.
“And have Merrick Tan transfer some of our assets off-world! We may need to bring in some outside muscle, and I want to have the funds available.” Morrow shouted.
“Yes, sir!” The assistant responded, closing the door and rushing to accomplish his tasks. Morrow uttered a loud harrumph, and his face twisted in a scowl as he waited for the Governor to speak. He developed a sixth sense of danger, which had kept him alive over the years.
He learned to trust his instincts, and right now, they were screaming at him to act, to surround himself with guards and weapons and shoot anything that threatened to take his paradise away.
Ellis Morrow was the single richest man on Caledon, a title he had earned through hard work and unscrupulous morals. He would act without hesitation if he had to kill the Governor and her upstart, recently liberated Baron. The Emperor be damned.
His grumbles were interrupted by the appearance of the Governor. Florine Sylla looked well rested and confident, her hair and makeup impeccable as she wore a black and red dress, a subtle reminder of the nobility she served.
Morrow hadn’t met her face to face before, preferring to deal with her through intermediaries. He didn’t like her one bit. She had no faults to exploit, no vices to blackmail. She and her government was a necessary evil forced on them by the Emperor, but he had worked on pulling the teeth from it over the years.
He pressed a button on the Datapad, increasing the volume as she walked to the podium.