"Blaine Lee Pardoe - BattleTech - MechWarrior - Dark Age 14 - Target of Opportunity" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pardoe Blaine Lee)

Republic and the rest of the Inner Sphere. At least that was how it was until1 August 3132 , when the
network was taken out. An invasive virus had penetrated the programming of a significant number of
HPGs, and when the generators were activated the virus had the effect of altering the frequency on which
they broadcast-something that shouldn’t have been possible. The result was thousands of fried HPG
cores. The more modern HPGs were not impacted by the virus, but they were physically attacked by
terrorist actions. The assault was so subtle and so widespread that it took the Inner Sphere-and
ComStar-by surprise. When the dust had settled on what became known within ComStar as Gray
Monday, more than 80 percent of the interstellar communications network was down. The primary
operations screens for ComStar turned gray with static on that day, and most stayed that way.
What followed was chaos.
Worlds were cut off from one another. Almost immediately, petty warlords and would-be rulers rose up
all across the Inner Sphere and began trying to carve up Devlin Stone’s once-pastoral empire-and one
another. Even the old Houses of the Inner Sphere once again took up arms and began to poke at the
edges of The Republic. Raids and incursions suddenly were commonplace. The demilitarized Inner
Sphere beat its plowshares back into swords.
And everyone blamed ComStar.
ComStar ran the HPG network. ComStar, independent of The Republic, was in charge of maintaining
interstellar communications. Most thought that the network would be down for a few days, then a few
weeks, but the problems were far deeper than anyone in ComStar suspected. In the early days, rumors
had circulated about a few HPGs on far-flung worlds that had been reinitialized and activated, but those
stories were mostly lies or wishful thinking. In those dark months that followed Gray Monday, the public
stopped looking at ComStar with hope. Many blamed the technicians and leaders of the massive
corporate entity for the disruption. Some even went so far as to declare that ComStar had sabotaged its
network deliberately, though that made no sense.
The public had a valid reason for doubting ComStar. That reason had a name. It was the Jihad.
“Where were you on Gray Monday, Tucker?”
For members of ComStar, the event was as significant as the fall of the Star League was to the ruling
Houses of the Inner Sphere. Gray Monday had forged together the individuals of ComStar as only a
crisis could. The question was a bond of honor between the members of the organization.
“I was at the university, delivering a lecture. I remember one of the graduate assistants bursting into the
room and telling the class that the entire system was down. I thought it was a joke, kept my class until the
end of the session. I remember giving the grad assistant hell for interrupting my lecture. I was reassigned
in five hours. They had me helping smooth out message-flow rates down at headquarters inSydney . I
was there for three months, and don’t think I saw the light of day all that time.”
“Tucker, I will be frank with you. ComStar has been hemorrhaging profits and talented people for some
time. I don’t want to lose you.”
“Sir, I am loyal to ComStar.”
“I know that. But I want to make sure we keep you happy, keep you challenged. I don’t want you to
end up like some of those fanatics I hear about-praying to their hardware to ensure that it works.
ComStar needs to move to the future, not get caught in its past.”
Praying to the hardware?That was a relic from ComStar’s days as a technoreligious order. He hadn’t
heard any rumors of that behavior reemerging, but apparently it was. “Sir, I’m not like that, not at all.”
Buhl straightened in his chair. “Of course you’re not, Tucker. So let me see what I can do to keep you
challenged. I have an opening that I’m considering you for. Your record shows that your knowledge and
understanding of the system makes you more than qualified for this position, but I have one reservation,
and I want to be honest with you about it. This is fieldwork. Not some university lab or R & D project.
This is serious hands-on work on an HPG on another planet. You’d have a chance to put some of that
theory you’ve learned to the test.”
Tucker adjusted his glasses again. His hands broke out in a new sheen of sweat.
“Is this operational work, sir?” He didn’t want a job sitting at a workstation watching communications