Side Hustle Tango by John Wilker

Author:John Wilker
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781951964108
Publisher: Rogue Publishing

CHAPTER TEN

WE’VE BEEN ROBBED

“Dr. Sorensen.” A technician turned from a rack of processing cores on the fifty-third level of the primary building of the Imperial science academy. The explosions had not damaged the structure of the building but had done significant damage to the two floors where the devices had been placed. While the physical damage was relatively minor, all things considered, the non-physical damage was extensive. An electromagnetic pulse had scrambled processing cores up and down the building. Add that to the virus that the mystery devices had injected into every open system they found. Researchers would be working to undo the damage for months.

“Yes?” a middle-aged man said, walking over. He was wearing a rumpled suit, clearly having gotten dressed in a hurry in the middle of the night.

“I’ve been trying to piece together some of the log files from this server farm.”

“And?” the senior researcher and department head asked.

The young technician stammered, “Well, sir. As you of course know, the pulse heavily damaged most of the processing cores.” Dr. Sorensen made a go on motion with his hand. “I found a spike.” The technician wiped his brow. “Someone copied several petabytes from one of the processing cores on level 42, the special projects servers.” He added, “Before the explosions.”

“Well, it wouldn’t have happened after, would it?” Sorensen said. He pushed the technician aside, looking over the data. “What the hell?” He turned to the technician. “Can you identify the files that were copied?” Sorenson stepped back to make room for the technician. With the technician working on pulling up the data he requested, the doctor tapped his earpiece. “Send in the security chief, please.”

When the chief arrived and Dr. Sorensen explained the situation, the heavily muscled security man asked, “So, which files?”

The technician handed him a tablet. “I can’t be certain this is a complete list, given the damage,” the man apologized.

As the chief scrolled through the list of project files, he tapped his ear. “Ensign Topher, go through the entire building’s logs. Someone broke in. Find them.” He looked at Dr. Sorenson, handing him the tablet. “This is big.” He ran a hand through his black hair. “I’m going to have to include Intelligence.”

Sorensen paled. “Surely, you don’t need to include Imperial Intelligence, Chief.”

The security chief shook his head. “This was too well executed to be anything other than the Rebellion. That’s out of my league, doctor.” He reached out and pointed at the screen, his finger resting on a project name that gave him and everyone else in the room a shudder.

Two hours later, a trio of men in bespoke suits was standing in the special projects’ server room, most of the processing cores silent. One or two, those furthest from the blast, were whirring away in the background. With the trio was Chief of Security Santos and Dr. Sorensen. The darker skinned of the pair was holding a data tablet.

One of the trio had walked over to the tower of still functional processing cores, running his hand along it.

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