Merodek Baladan slammed his long fist into his desk as he read the report Anala Magha had sent to his HUD. Scanning through the documents, he saw the connections now, the small subsidiaries that Gurgunov Chemicals had used to purchase shares in Aeon Chemical Ltd. Why had he failed to notice it earlier?

Quite suddenly he felt his age. A hundred and sixty-seven years was a long time to work, even by the standards of the long-lived Divona. He stood, stretching his four wrinkled arms, swinging easily across the room through the tangled jungle gym of metal bars and pipes. He looked out through the glass that encased Kemesa, the orbital city of his people, as it drifted in the vacuum of space.

The city was rectangular in shape, encased in thick protective glass steel, a tangle of pipes and lattices replaced the long flat roads you’d find on a human settlement. The Divona had evolved over the centuries from a species of cliff dwellers, and their long limbs and curved fingers were much more suited to swinging and climbing that they were plodding along poured concrete.

The entire city rotated slowly around the salt water planet Airmed, the first planet his people had colonized outside of their home world, Borvo, which hung like a glittering red ball in the distance.

Merodek had grown weary. More so recently than he remembered as a young ambitious boy. He had risen through the ranks of Aeon Chemical to become their CEO, a position of great power and respectability. And danger. As the head of one of the five Mega-Corporations, there were always those who sought to dethrone him, through subterfuge – or bloodshed.

But the Audacity of Gurgunov was what bothered him most. Sure, they were a major player, but the Five Mega Corporations had stood since time immemorial. Since before the event that had decimated the human population all those hundreds of years ago, leading to the rise of the Five. It was foolishness to think that they could take one of the Mega-corps down.

“Sir,” Anala’s voice cut through his reverie, “We’ve got a situation.”

Merodek groaned in disgust, his thin, long finger tracing a shape absentmindedly on the glass. “Yes, what is it?”

“It’s the shipment of Echinate Rifles sir. It’s being attacked.”

“The Syndicate?”

“Not by the looks of it. They’re using military grade weapons, the hard stuff.”

“Send me the feed.”

“One moment, sir.”

Merodek loped back to his long, curved seat, grunting as he landed harder than he’d meant to. He flexed his three fingered hand slowly. His joints creaked and groaned in protest. He hadn’t received Boxaz injections from his med-bay for several hours, and he was feeling the effects.

“I have the feed ready for you sir,” Anala said.

“Send it over.”

Merodek jolted as his vision snapped into the middle of a firefight. His lip curled into a sneer. He hated direct eye feeds. It always made him motion sick.

“Sergeant, I’ve got movement!” the unnamed soldier shouted as her HUD showed six red blips moving in her direction. She kneeled, pulling out a pulse grenade and priming it.

She glanced out the window. Their ship, a heavy Golem class carrier known as the Ekimu, was pulling eighteen re-enforced transport pods, each filled with weapons meant for the Buadza System.

Through the glass steel window, she could see three Stalker class fighters, sleek, black metal ships about a fourth the size of the cumbersome carrier and shaped like arrowheads, firing missiles into the Ekimu’s left flank.

The boat rocked as the concussive bombs tore through heavy plating, exposing the ship’s guts. She watched in horror as part of the crew was sucked out into the black, their bodies shaking and convulsing as the air was torn from their lungs by the vacuum of space.

A launch bay on the second Stalker lit up, and a dozen Squeets swarmed. The tiny purple ships spread out across the carrier.

“Shazat! Sarge, do you see what I’m seeing?” she shouted.

“Soldier, I need you to focus on the task at hand,” he responded. “Let Captain Nereides worry about the ship’s defenses.”

“But, Sergeant, if those Squeets inject carrion crawlers into that hull breach, we’re as good as gone.”

“They’re trying to steal our cargo, they’re not going to blow the entire ship. Now get your head in the game, soldier. That’s an order!”

“Yes, sir” she said, her voice shaky. Her breath came rapid, her hands trembled as she unfolded her Nizzertit, transforming the heavy pistol into a light rifle.

She watched as the glowing enemy markers crept closer.

“They’re almost here, Sarge,” she whispered. “Shazat!”

“Stay calm and remember your training. This is what they pay us for. Small, controlled bursts, and make sure—“

His voice cut off as she heard rapid machine gun fire in the distance, echoing through the narrow corridors of the Ekimu.

“Sarge! Sarge, are you there?” Her pleas were met with silence.

“Samba? Iris? Do you read me?”

Her panicked breath slowed as the red dots approached. She poked her head out behind the pile of barrels she had hastily stacked into makeshift cover. The display on her HUD showed three of the red dots about four attosecs down the hall.

“Veck me, where are you?” she muttered to herself.

She twisted the handle of the pulse grenade, activating it, and rolled it down the corridor.

“Shazat!” a man shouted. A plasma explosion lit up the corridor with a brilliant blue glow as a wave of heat scorched the air.

Screams echoed in her ears, inhuman screams as the enemy’s skin and meat fell to the ground, melting away from bone and sinew.

She popped over the side of her barricade, firing in short bursts. She coughed and gagged as the smell of burnt flesh and hair wafted towards her.

Ducking back behind cover, she heard bullets whiz and whistle past her position.

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“Veck me!” she whispered as plasma rifle fire drummed wetly around her, heating the metal containers she leaned against.

She bent around the side of her makeshift wall and fired some additional shots.

Four more red dots headed her way.

“You still with us?” Sarge said, his voice ragged and low.

“Sarge!” she shouted. “Thank the Five you’re still there.”

He grunted. “Not for long I’m afraid.”

“Shazat, Sarge, I thought you were invincible.”

He chuckled weakly. “So did I. But the hole in my belly says otherwise.”

She whimpered. “C’mon, Sarge, don’t say that. You’ve got the biggest yarbles of any man I ever met.”

“I just… I just wanted to say…” his voice faded.

“Say what, Sarge?” she said, ducking her head reflexively as more bullets sprayed past her.

“Sarge? Sarge, are you there?”

Her arms went slack as a small metal sphere clanged to the ground near her feet.

“Veck me,” she said with a resigned sigh, blinking heavily before being ripped apart by the grenade.

“Anala,” Merodek said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Get me the external ship feed.”

Merodek watched, his clenched right fist tightening, the four knuckle joints creaking in protest on his middle finger.

The Squeets where indeed disassembling the Ekimu; the carrion crawlers, nasty little robots meant to tear apart wreckage, made quick work of the ship’s hull, exposing the Funicular engine’s containment unit.

“What are they doing?” Merodek asked aloud to no one in particular. He watched as more Squeets swarmed the engine, planting explosives.

One of the Stalkers flew to the hanger bay of the Ekimu, and Merodek saw the wavy, nearly invisible outline of ten soldiers carrying the ship’s massive A.I. unit that had been hastily cut out.

“Carker suits…” Anala said. “No wonder that poor girl couldn’t see them coming.”

Merodek’s mouth pulled tight. Anala was definitely right; this was no Syndicate operation. Tech like this was beyond the price range of most pirates.

This was something bigger. More sinister.

The three Stalkers flew to a safe distance, and detonated. Merodek watched in mute horror as the miniature black hole that powered the Funicular engine was freed from its containment unit. The ship slowly bent inward, groaning loudly in protest as it was folded and pulled into the hole, along with all eighteen transport pods.

The feed cut. Merodek sat in stunned silence. Why destroy the cargo? Why not take it and sell it on the black markets?

His com chimed. “I have the legal department of Daytech Mechanics on the line,” Piko, his A.I. unit said helpfully. They had likely been monitoring their shipment and knew of its loss. He needed time.

“Tell them I’m unavailable, but will call them at my earliest convenience.”

“As you wish.”

He needed to think. He’d spent six months negotiating the transport contracts for Daytech Mechanics; losing their business would be a major blow.

His com chimed again. “Sir, I have Samuel Meyer on the line,” Piko said.

Merodek rubbed his broad forehead, running his fingers down the bioluminescent ridges that ran along both sides of his face. Sam Meyer. Of course. The worm couldn’t wait to jump on the disastrous corpse before the body was even cold. He’d want to call an emergency board meeting. He’d been undermining Merodek’s position as CEO for years.

He exhaled sharply. “Alright, connect us.”

“Merodek, how are you?” Sam said, his nasally voice barely masking his exuberance.

“Busy. What do you need?”

“The board just received some troubling news. Apparently some raiders destroyed the first Daytech shipment?”

“Yes, I’m dealing with the situation now.”

Sam clucked his tongue, a habit that somehow made the plump, rat-faced man even more intolerable. “Bad news, that. I certainly hope this won’t cause any strain on our relationship with Microtech.”

“Microtech?”

“Oh, hadn’t you heard?” Merodek resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Daytech Mechanics was purchased just this morning by Microtech.”

Not good. Not good at all. Microtech was the second largest of the five Mega-corps, behind Omnicorp, and had been the major antagonist to Aeon Chemical during the Corporate Wars. To some it was a distant memory, but twenty-three years was not long to a Divona, and tensions still ran high between the two companies.

“I hadn’t reviewed the morning dailies yet. I’m sure it will be fine,” he lied.

“Yes, well, let’s hope so,” Sam sneered. “I’d hate to have the board once again have to step in and assign another CEO pro tem until you have the situation under control.”

Merodek feigned a smile. “I assure you, that won’t be necessary.”

“We’ll see,” Sam said, and disconnected.

Merodek’s smile disappeared. He inhaled through his broad nose.

“Anala,” he said. “I need to know who attacked us.”

“I’m working on it now, sir.”

“Good. Let me know what you find.”

“Yes, sir.”

He stretched his aching back.

“Sir, I have Daytech Mechanics on the line again,” Piko said. “They are… unhappy.”

He sighed. “Alright, patch them through.”

Merodek found himself staring into an expensive boardroom, a viper’s den of lawyers and legal experts.

“Mister Baladan,” one of the faceless suits said. “We are very concerned about this morning’s incident.”

“As am I. I assure you, we are doing everything we can to discover—“

“Mister Baladan,” the man interrupted. “We are not interested in your assurances. We were told your transport and protection services were top notch.”

“They are.”

The man laughed. “How can you say that, when you’ve lost us twenty-seven million zenny worth of cargo?”

“Actually, the market value of your cargo was closer to eighteen million.”

“Please, let’s not be crass.”

“My apologies. You’re absolutely correct,” he backtracked. “But I promise you this: we will get to the bottom of this attack. The perpetrators will be brought to justice one way or another.”

“And our money?”

“I assure you—“

“There’s that word again, Mister Baladan.”

Merodek grit his teeth.

“When we catch who did this, the courts will see that restitution is made.”

“And what if you don’t catch them?”

“Then Aeon Chemical will personally pay for any losses incurred.”

The men in the room visibly relaxed. Merodek wasn’t certain that was a promise he could keep; an expenditure that significant would most certainly need board approval. He’d just have to make sure they caught whoever committed the crime.

“Excellent. That is very good to hear.”

“Now, unless there’s anything else, I need to get back to work.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Mister Baladan.”

Merodek cut the feed without any further pleasantries.

“Sir,” Anala said. “I think I’ve got something.”

“Yes?”

Anala swiped some documents over to Merodek’s HUD. He scanned through them.

“What am I looking at?”

“Purchase orders. My contact at Muraviov-Abe Works sent them to me.”

He continued to read. Anala had highlighted several items. A block of carrion crawler robots purchased in January. A fleet of Squeets a month later. And three Stalker class fighters a week ago. Muraviov-Abe Works was a newly acquired subsidiary of Aeon Chemical. It was not unusual for new purchases to buck and flex their muscle to demonstrate their independence from the Mega-corps. But generally speaking, it was not something this audacious or damaging.

“Good work,” he said. “It’s not enough to bring before the Low Court, but it’s a start.”

“There’s something else you’ll want to see.”

Merodek tapped his chin in annoyance. Anala was one of the best intelligence officers he’d ever worked with, and he’d had unanimous support from the board when he recommended her for the position of Chief Intelligence Officer, a rare occurrence to be sure.

But the way she comported herself quickly got on his nerves. He could tell she assumed she was the smartest person in any room she entered, and she reveled in trickling information to her superiors.

She swiped a third document to his HUD. His two long prehensile tails twitched as he read. A high bid contract between Muraviov-Abe Works and Gurgunov Chemical. He scanned through the document. It didn’t make sense; Gurgunov had purchased Metallurgical equipment manufactured by a Muroviov-Abe Works plant in the Phanes system. They were taking a major hit on the price, paying much more zenny than the market cost.

“Look at the purchase date,” Anala said.

Two days before the first purchase of Carrion Crawlers by Muraviov-Abe Works.

“Payment for services rendered,” he said under his breath.

“My thoughts exactly.”

His finger tapped his desk. This was going to get messy.

“Piko, reschedule my meetings for today.”

“Yes, sir,” his A.I. said.

“And see if you can get me in touch with Charles Gallagher from the Microtech board. He owes me a favor.”

“Right away, sir.”

“Anala” he said. “I’m going to need you to head to Port Royal.”

“Sir?” she asked. “Do you think it’s wise to involve the Syndicate at this juncture?”

“Wise? Certainly not,” he answered. “But we need to get a handle on this before it spins out of control.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied glumly.

He didn’t relish the thought of negotiating with the black market thugs within the Syndicate. But he needed to send a message to the other subsidiaries, as well as the board of directors. A clear, brutal message. Insubordination and sabotage would not be tolerated.

“Sir,” Piko said. “I have Mister Gallagher on the line for you.”

“Very good. Connect him please.”

This was shaping up to be a very long day indeed.

“Merodek you old dog, how the hell are you?”