Omega Force: Rebellion (OF11), стр. 42
"You may enter, Councilman," the door guard said. The unassuming entryway belied the fact that the most powerful being in the ConFed resided behind it. The guards, one on each side, were synths that wore a special type of fitted armor and were carrying plasma rifles so large they looked like they could have burned through a starship's hull. Scleesz found it interesting that the Machine seemed to employ a lot of synths as security and couriers, but not a single battlesynth worked for him. He didn't know if it was because they were simply so rare or if the recent unrest on their home world, Khepri, had taken them completely out of rotation.
"You wished to see me, sir?" Scleesz asked respectfully once he'd entered and the door slammed shut behind him. The holographic image of the avatar sputtered to life and, oddly, it sat behind the desk. The image the Machine was presenting at this point was more confusing than intimidating.
"I need you to travel to the occupation zone in Eshquaria," the Machine said without preamble or even an acknowledgment.
"The missing Eshquarian war fleet?" Scleesz guessed. "I don't see how I'd be much help there."
"You wouldn't," the Machine assured him. "I am already handling the missing fleet. You're to meet with emissaries from the Saabror Protectorate to offer them terms that will head off any further pointless violence. It would be interesting to hear what they have in mind and they won't talk to anyone lower ranking than a councilmember. The only one I can trust to perform this function, currently, is you."
"As you wish," Scleesz bowed. "And what of the Cridal Cooperative?"
"I have been in contact with representatives of Seeladas Dalton. She seems willing to negotiate so long as the appearance of her power remains intact."
"And you'll allow this?" Scleesz felt hope surge through him at the thought of heading off a full-scale war.
"Of course not," the Machine said, crushing Scleesz's hope as quickly as it had bloomed. "But we're in no position to fend off the Protectorate and the Cooperative right now until we solidify our hold on the ConFed Council. The Adjudicators are one thing, but the Council simply will not approve a war that might cut into their own systems' profit margins. The timing just isn't right for that yet, so we'll need to stall."
"I won't pretend to understand that that means, sir, but I'll do as required."
"I know you will, Scleesz," the Machin said, the eyes of the avatar boring into him in a way that made him squirm. "You'll do anything to save your own wretched life and almost anything to save your reputation. Do this right, and we'll be well on our way to bringing the entire quadrant into the fold and thus completing the first phase of my task."
"What am I authorized to use for bargaining?" Scleesz asked. "The Protectorate won't agree to terms just because I ask them."
"Fear will be your currency," the Machine said. "Soon, they will be falling over themselves to make a deal that keeps our fleets from their territory. That will allow us to bide out time and take what is ours only when it suits our purposes best."
This answer made no sense to Scleesz, but he knew better than to ask for a second clarification within the same meeting. The Machine had no patience for people who couldn't keep up. He wasn't sure what he would use to instill fear in the Saabror Protectorate, a nation almost defined by its lack of fear and willingness to fight. They were aggressive, but they weren't mindlessly stupid, either. Their negotiators would be well aware that the ConFed couldn't afford to maintain the occupation, control space within its own borders, and also invade another sovereign power with any hopes of winning.
"I shall depart immediately, sir," Scleesz said, bowing again. "Will there be anything else?"
"I may also send word that I want you to meet with a representative of Seeladas Dalton's," the Machine said, almost as an afterthought. "We've been receiving…disturbing rumors about one of their member nations. A group of upstart aliens that are showing themselves to be far more adept at building weapons than any newcomer should be. I would be interested in knowing whether they have purchased their designs illegally or if we have another problem brewing in the Orion Arm."
"I will make myself available, sir."
Scleesz exited the office as quickly as he could without looking like he was fleeing a predator. Even though the Machine had no physical form in the rooms it chose to meet him in, the AI's presence had a heaviness to it that terrified the councilman. There was also still that barely detectable tinge of instability that scared him even more. The ConFed was likely being manipulated by an AI that had gone insane thousands of years ago, and there was little he could do about it. The ConFed's own corrupt power structure had been practically tailor made for this type of internal coup. Half the imbeciles who managed to get themselves elected into the Council or the countless parasites that cared only about keeping their cushy bureaucrat positions didn't know and didn't care that they'd lost control.
He pondered the feasibility of meeting with Mok and Burke while he was in that part of the quadrant and away from the capital. It was still a risk since it was almost certain that his own ship had been infested with trackers and listening devices. If he made any odd moves while he was gone the Machine would find out about it and that would be the end of his career…maybe the end of his life.
He decided he would try to reach out to one of the two and see if