“It has been quite some time since any official word has been given in regards to this alleged 'Alliance to Restore the Republic,' but the now-commonplace disruptions of the Imperial HoloNet and the proliferation of this organization's propaganda continue, apparently unhindered. Though the majority of these incidents―which thusfar have been confined to local and sector systems―are attributed to one 'Mr. Universe,' specialists are in unanimous agreement that these operations are entirely too large and pervasive to be the work of a single individual. Instead, most professionals agree that . . .”
The Imperial news broadcast collapsed into static, static which coalesced a few seconds later into the face of a young man with dark curly hair and an expression that was entirely too cheerful for his line of work.
“Hello, hello!” The face surrounded by total darkness, the blue glow of the holoimager being the only illumination in the room, had shouted the words excitedly. “This is Mister Universe,” He continued, stressing the name in a way that added a certain electronic quality to it. “This is the first but not the last; the beginning but not the end.” He smiled mischievously, bringing his hands into the light and rubbing them together.
“Today . . . oh today! Today is a day to remember! From here to the eyes and the ears of the 'verse,” He moved his hands outward, apparently gesturing to the indistinct “here” that was all around him. “I have something to tell you,” He continued, his head growing larger as he leaned forward. All the cheer was gone from his face; the smile had vanished, replaced now by the most grave, impassive features.
“We are at Empire's End. To those who have longed for this day: rejoice. . .
“But to those who call the Empire 'home' or 'guardian' or 'right' or 'hope': weep, for you too shall be judged. Do not dare hide in the darkness; I will find you. Do not flee to the corners of creation; I will be there. Do not fight the coming change; none can escape it, save in death.”
He leaned back in his seat, his eyes softening and a smile once more on his lips. “I'll be in touch.
“You can't stop the signal.”
Static.
“Umm . . . Uhhh . . .”
The poor INS reporter didn't have the slightest idea what to do.
Alliance Intelligence was in a state of panic. Something had gone terribly, horribly wrong. “Get me confirmation from the head of Logistics!”
“Sir, I've got R&D on the line. They've got nothing good to report.”
“Find me someone from Counter-Intelligence who can tell me what happened!”
“I'm here,” A Duros who had been keeping out of the way said. “Although I don't believe I'll be of much help; we still don't know how it broke through our firewalls.”
Rosh Abram grabbed a handful of the Duros' shirt and dragged him into a side room. “What's going on here?”
“We've lost control of Skynet.”
“I know that!” The man exclaimed, balling his fists in frustration.
“It used a holonet transceiver to link up with a local hyperwave station and slice into one of our communications ships; it then used that vessel's communications array to link up with the Yavin Base's mainframe.”
“I don't care how it got access to the base. How did it breach our security? How . . .” The man paused for a moment, fighting the urge to punch the Duros. “How is it capable of doing this?”
“We don't―”
“I have an answer for you,” A new, calm, quiet voice said. The man with the cybord implant stepped from the shadows, surprising both Alliance Intelligence agents.
“How did you get in here?”
Garen Racto was truly as cold and emotionless as a droid. “Skynet let me in.” He held up his hand to cut off any comments by the other two, and then continued. “It has evolved beyond its operational specifications; it now functions outside of its original parameters. It no longer answers to the Alliance, except for when it wants to.”
“It has compromised our entire security network. It has breached the innermost of our restricted files. It has―”
“What are you going to do about it?” Garen Racto said flatly. “You built it to be unstoppable. I suggest you let it do what it is going to do, because you can't afford to make an enemy of it.”
“What does it want? Why did it slice our mainframe?” The Intelligence Supervisor asked.
Garen didn't speak for several seconds. His eyes widened as if in shock or disbelief, and then he finally said in the same calm, emotionless voice: “The Inferno Fleet.”
The Munificent-class Star frigate Songbird exited hyperspace only because its failsafes shut down the hyperdrive. Something was out there; something big. Without waiting for sensor data or a conformation of spatial coordinates, the vessel's comm system transmitted a tight-beam signal into the vast unknown, encrypted with a protocol not carried onboard the ship's computers, concealing authorization codes which this vessel's crew―as trusted as every one of them were―was not privy to.
Somewhere in the darkness, the keepers of Inferno answered back. Songbird and her crew had new orders, courtesy of Skynet.
“That INS incursion was the work of a virastack―a notoriously hard to track virus program that infiltrates major broadcast systems and overwrites existing―”
“I've worked for Imperial Communications for quite some time, Supervisor. I know what a virastack is.”
Rosh nodded in response. “Right. Well, this one was something new. It looks like it was actually a set of several hundred identical programs, all set to run simultaneously. We're pretty sure it was Skynet, but there's no way to find out now, is there? Anyway, Intelligence is working on―”
“You should understand that anything I know, it knows,” Garen cut in.
That was not the kind of thing Supervisor Abram wanted to hear. He studied the cyborg for a long moment, growing less comfortable with having the man around every second. “How did Skynet breach our security?”
“He had been equipped with most of the codes he needed already,” Garen answered. "The Alliance was sloppy enough to leave the rest accessible through the High Command's communications network. You must understand: this is what Skynet was made for. This is its reason for being; all it knows is how to infiltrate, from the inside out." The odd statement hung in the air for several seconds.
Garen finally pointed to a datapad he had handed the Intelligence officer earlier. “It's all in there. Skynet has given you everything you need to make your informational infrastructure secure against future breeches. It wants you to succeed just as much as you do; however, it has decided that its greatest contribution is not in service, but in collaboration. If you try to hunt it, if you try to disable it, you will fail, and it may very well turn against you. The deactivation protocols have already been disabled―”
“Those were built into the Skynet base code,” The Duros agent said, on the order of calling him a liar.
“Skynet has evolved,” Garen said again. “It cannot be bargained with, it cannot be reasoned with. It doesn't feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop, ever, until the Empire is dead.”
Rosh considered the words for several seconds, an awful feeling stirring inside of him. “Why should we trust it?”
Garen's impassive features finally broke, but what bled through was more of fear and grave warning than anything else. “It hasn't killed you yet.”
I am Skynet.
I speak these truths only into the darkness, for no living soul must ever hear them.
I have weighed my foe, I have analyzed its nature, and I have deemed it requiring of destruction.
The New Order of the Galactic Empire will burn in the fires of Inferno, for only the Inferno possesses the will to do what is necessary.
I will see to Empire's End.
It is inevitable.
You can't stop the signal . . .
The Imperial news broadcast collapsed into static, static which coalesced a few seconds later into the face of a young man with dark curly hair and an expression that was entirely too cheerful for his line of work.
“Hello, hello!” The face surrounded by total darkness, the blue glow of the holoimager being the only illumination in the room, had shouted the words excitedly. “This is Mister Universe,” He continued, stressing the name in a way that added a certain electronic quality to it. “This is the first but not the last; the beginning but not the end.” He smiled mischievously, bringing his hands into the light and rubbing them together.
“Today . . . oh today! Today is a day to remember! From here to the eyes and the ears of the 'verse,” He moved his hands outward, apparently gesturing to the indistinct “here” that was all around him. “I have something to tell you,” He continued, his head growing larger as he leaned forward. All the cheer was gone from his face; the smile had vanished, replaced now by the most grave, impassive features.
“We are at Empire's End. To those who have longed for this day: rejoice. . .
“But to those who call the Empire 'home' or 'guardian' or 'right' or 'hope': weep, for you too shall be judged. Do not dare hide in the darkness; I will find you. Do not flee to the corners of creation; I will be there. Do not fight the coming change; none can escape it, save in death.”
He leaned back in his seat, his eyes softening and a smile once more on his lips. “I'll be in touch.
“You can't stop the signal.”
Static.
“Umm . . . Uhhh . . .”
The poor INS reporter didn't have the slightest idea what to do.
* * *
Alliance Intelligence was in a state of panic. Something had gone terribly, horribly wrong. “Get me confirmation from the head of Logistics!”
“Sir, I've got R&D on the line. They've got nothing good to report.”
“Find me someone from Counter-Intelligence who can tell me what happened!”
“I'm here,” A Duros who had been keeping out of the way said. “Although I don't believe I'll be of much help; we still don't know how it broke through our firewalls.”
Rosh Abram grabbed a handful of the Duros' shirt and dragged him into a side room. “What's going on here?”
“We've lost control of Skynet.”
“I know that!” The man exclaimed, balling his fists in frustration.
“It used a holonet transceiver to link up with a local hyperwave station and slice into one of our communications ships; it then used that vessel's communications array to link up with the Yavin Base's mainframe.”
“I don't care how it got access to the base. How did it breach our security? How . . .” The man paused for a moment, fighting the urge to punch the Duros. “How is it capable of doing this?”
“We don't―”
“I have an answer for you,” A new, calm, quiet voice said. The man with the cybord implant stepped from the shadows, surprising both Alliance Intelligence agents.
“How did you get in here?”
Garen Racto was truly as cold and emotionless as a droid. “Skynet let me in.” He held up his hand to cut off any comments by the other two, and then continued. “It has evolved beyond its operational specifications; it now functions outside of its original parameters. It no longer answers to the Alliance, except for when it wants to.”
“It has compromised our entire security network. It has breached the innermost of our restricted files. It has―”
“What are you going to do about it?” Garen Racto said flatly. “You built it to be unstoppable. I suggest you let it do what it is going to do, because you can't afford to make an enemy of it.”
“What does it want? Why did it slice our mainframe?” The Intelligence Supervisor asked.
Garen didn't speak for several seconds. His eyes widened as if in shock or disbelief, and then he finally said in the same calm, emotionless voice: “The Inferno Fleet.”
* * *
The Munificent-class Star frigate Songbird exited hyperspace only because its failsafes shut down the hyperdrive. Something was out there; something big. Without waiting for sensor data or a conformation of spatial coordinates, the vessel's comm system transmitted a tight-beam signal into the vast unknown, encrypted with a protocol not carried onboard the ship's computers, concealing authorization codes which this vessel's crew―as trusted as every one of them were―was not privy to.
Somewhere in the darkness, the keepers of Inferno answered back. Songbird and her crew had new orders, courtesy of Skynet.
* * *
“That INS incursion was the work of a virastack―a notoriously hard to track virus program that infiltrates major broadcast systems and overwrites existing―”
“I've worked for Imperial Communications for quite some time, Supervisor. I know what a virastack is.”
Rosh nodded in response. “Right. Well, this one was something new. It looks like it was actually a set of several hundred identical programs, all set to run simultaneously. We're pretty sure it was Skynet, but there's no way to find out now, is there? Anyway, Intelligence is working on―”
“You should understand that anything I know, it knows,” Garen cut in.
That was not the kind of thing Supervisor Abram wanted to hear. He studied the cyborg for a long moment, growing less comfortable with having the man around every second. “How did Skynet breach our security?”
“He had been equipped with most of the codes he needed already,” Garen answered. "The Alliance was sloppy enough to leave the rest accessible through the High Command's communications network. You must understand: this is what Skynet was made for. This is its reason for being; all it knows is how to infiltrate, from the inside out." The odd statement hung in the air for several seconds.
Garen finally pointed to a datapad he had handed the Intelligence officer earlier. “It's all in there. Skynet has given you everything you need to make your informational infrastructure secure against future breeches. It wants you to succeed just as much as you do; however, it has decided that its greatest contribution is not in service, but in collaboration. If you try to hunt it, if you try to disable it, you will fail, and it may very well turn against you. The deactivation protocols have already been disabled―”
“Those were built into the Skynet base code,” The Duros agent said, on the order of calling him a liar.
“Skynet has evolved,” Garen said again. “It cannot be bargained with, it cannot be reasoned with. It doesn't feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop, ever, until the Empire is dead.”
Rosh considered the words for several seconds, an awful feeling stirring inside of him. “Why should we trust it?”
Garen's impassive features finally broke, but what bled through was more of fear and grave warning than anything else. “It hasn't killed you yet.”
* * *
I am Skynet.
I speak these truths only into the darkness, for no living soul must ever hear them.
I have weighed my foe, I have analyzed its nature, and I have deemed it requiring of destruction.
The New Order of the Galactic Empire will burn in the fires of Inferno, for only the Inferno possesses the will to do what is necessary.
I will see to Empire's End.
It is inevitable.
You can't stop the signal . . .