Crimson Worlds Successors: The Complete Trilogy

by Jay Allan

  Bull was as fearless as soldiers came, relentless and unstoppable. But now he was distracted. Danger didn’t affect him, nor pain, nor fatigue. But he had Colonel Teller with him…and General Gilson too. That was more top brass than he could handle…especially in a situation like this. He was moving recklessly, sacrificing all caution to try to find General Cain as quickly as possible. The last thing he needed was to get the Eagles’ acting commander killed, not to mention the Marines’ senior general.

  His forces were moving up to an intersection, and he waved for them to stop while he crept forward. He leaned up against the wall and looked around the corner. There was a single enemy soldier about eight meters down the hall, clearly a sentry of some kind.

  Guarding what? They’ve got worse problems now than guarding some hallway this deep. Unless…

  It was just a feeling, but suddenly he was convinced. They were close. He felt a surge of energy, a compulsion to do something, and without warning he lunged around the corner, running down the corridor toward the guard.

  The Eldari soldier spun around, leveling his rifle at the onrushing giant. But Bull jerked his body to the side hard, and the enemy’s fire went wide. The guard tried to turn his weapon and fire again, but he was too late. Bull slammed into the unarmored man, sending him flying into the wall. The Eldari dropped his rifle and crumpled to the ground.

  Bull reached down, his massive armored hand grabbed the injured man and pulled him from the floor. “Where?” he roared. “Where is the detention area?”

  The man was disoriented and in pain. He moaned loudly, but he didn’t answer.

  “You will tell me right now,” Bull said, the malice in his voice almost freezing the air, “or I will tear you apart.” He swung the helpless soldier around, gripping an arm in each of his hands. He pulled, careful not to put too much strength behind it. He didn’t want to tear the man in half. Not yet, at least.

  “Down the corridor,” the terrified man said. “Then left.”

  Bull turned and tossed the Eldari toward one of his Eagles. “Hold on to him,” he said, his voice a savage growl. “If his directions are wrong, kill him.”

  Bull turned and moved forward, stopping after another ten meters or so. He cranked up his external microphone and listened. Gunfire.

  “Alright Eagles, there’s some kind of a fight ahead of us…so let’s go find the General.”

  He pulled his assault rifle from his back and checked the cartridge. Then he started down the hallway.

  * * * * *

  Darius Cain crouched down inside the doorframe, his rifle poking out. He was using his ears as well as his eyes, waiting for an enemy to show himself…even to peer around a corner. He was firing single shots…all his people were. Their ammo was almost gone. Indeed, if the enemy had been more aggressive—less afraid of the Eagles’ deadly-accurate fire—they would have been overrun already. But this was a contest between Black Eagles and vastly inferior soldiers. Numbers could sustain a force, keep it in the battle until victory finally came, but it didn’t create courage. Cain and his people had held the enemy off for several days, killing at least twenty for every one they lost. But Darius knew the brave stand was almost over.

  His people wouldn’t give up when their ammunition was gone. But the enemy would push down the corridors, firing on full, driving his Eagles back into each of the cells. There would be dozens of last stands, desperate hand to hand engagements as the enemy poured into each of the small rooms. His people would fight like wildcats, slashing with their blades and punching with their nuclear-powered fists. They would kill hundreds of the enemy…but in the end they would lose. The numbers they faced were just too great. And he had less than fifty of his original two hundred still in the fight.

  His thoughts drifted to Alcabedo, to the terrible final duty he had charged his officer to undertake. He felt sick to his stomach. Of all the things he’d done, of the fateful decisions he’d made, nothing could compare to ordering his father’s own death. It was an act of mercy, he knew, but he still felt somehow…unclean. His mind went back over the operation. We came so close…what could I have done differently?

  No, we didn’t come close, not really. The Eagles must have been defeated outside the Citadel. Otherwise, Erik would have been here. He felt a wave of regret, of futility. But he knew that he’d had no choice.

  He saw an Eldari soldier peer around the corner, and he snapped up his rifle and fired…almost on instinct. The enemy had barely extended one eye around the edge, before Darius put a hyper-velocity round right through it. The man was thrown back, and he fell into the middle of the intersection with a thud.

  Darius heard his autoloader pop out the empty clip, replacing it with another. His last.

  He took a deep breath. Soldiers have come to this moment throughout human history. Some die suddenly, without warning, shot by a sniper or obliterated by an exploding shell. But many have stood as we do, facing certain death but remaining firm to the end. And now is my time. Our time…

  Suddenly, his com erupted. The jamming that had limited communications to twenty meters’ range was suddenly gone, and a familiar voice was speaking.

  “General Cain? Darius?” The voice was hoarse and worn, but Darius recognized it at once. Erik Teller.

  “Erik?” he answered, not entirely able to keep the stunned disbelief out of his voice.

  “Yes, Darius.” The voice on the com was heavy with relief. “My God, old friend…I was sure you were dead.”

  “Not dead yet…but I doubt it’s going to be long now.”

  “No,” Teller snapped. “We’re on the way. Maybe a hundred meters…moving straight for the detention area.”

  Cain was stunned. “You’re here?” His discipline failed him and he stood there, trying to comprehend what he had just heard.

  “Yes…the battle outside the city is over. We’ve got units moving throughout the Citadel, but I’m with Bull Trent and a company of Kuragina’s troops. We’re on the way to your position.”

  Darius’ head turned abruptly. He’d been listening to Teller, but now he heard something from down the hallway. It was gunfire. And not just any gunfire. He’d have recognized his Eagles’ assault rifles anywhere.

  “I can hear you coming,” he said, his voice filled with emotion…relief, gratitude. “I can hear your rifle fire.”

  He forced his mind back to focus, and he took a stim, feeling the almost instant wave of artificial energy. He snapped his rifle back up and moved toward the door. This was it…the final battle. The last few minutes. His Eagles were coming for him, for all their brethren trapped in this detention area.

  And for you too, Father. For you too.

  He whipped around and fired at an Eldari who had been too careless. And as he did, he could hear Teller’s people, their fire becoming louder as it approached.

  My God, he thought, trying to stay focused on the fight but finding it difficult. We did it…we actually did it.

  Chapter 40

  The Citadel

  Planet Eldaron

  Denebola System

  Earthdate: 2319 AD (34 Years After the Fall)

  Sarah stood next to Erik, looking down at his broken body, wounded, covered in crusted blood. Her eyes passed over his withered frame, his almost skeletal arms, the ribs so visible on his chest. She imagined how he had suffered. The torture, the beatings. She saw images in her mind, thought of how many days and nights she’d gone about her business while he lay against the wall in this cold cell, almost starving to death. She imagined the foul rations his captors had given him, when they’d fed him at all, and she felt a wave of anger, of hatred at those who had done this to him.

  She could hear intermittent gunfire in the background, as Darius’ Eagles hunted down the last of the Eldari soldiers. The final battle had been quick and decisive, the enemy forces caught between Darius’ Teams and the relieving force sent to find them. The Eldari broke and tried to run…but there was nowhere to go. Many had tried to surren
der, but the Eagles ignored their pleas and gunned them down where they stood. They were enraged that the Eldari had tried to trap them, that they had suffered the losses they had. But word had also begun to spread that Erik Cain was indeed alive, that he had been held here in appalling conditions for more than fifteen years. The Eagles respected Erik, as their general’s father, and as a legendary and honorable warrior…and their rage had sealed the fate of the Eldari soldiers in the catacombs.

  Since they had left the Nest, Sarah had imagined herself trying to restrain Darius, keeping him from unleashing hell on the Eldari people, but now her energy to fight for mercy had left her. She looked down at Erik, lying on the cold ground of the cell, his sufferings so clear to see, and she felt the same burning rage. She knew it hadn’t been the fault of the commoner. Indeed, she doubted one in a hundred thousand Eldari had even known Erik Cain was there. But she didn’t care…and that kind of uncontrollable fury scared her. She had seen it before, in Erik, after Gavin Stark had murdered Elias Holm. She remembered the look in his eyes, and she knew she would never forget it, no matter how hard she tried.

  “Sar…ah…”

  The voice was weak, barely audible, but it hit her like a tidal wave. Erik had been unconscious since she’d gotten there, but now he was looking up at her.

  “A dream…” he said sadly.

  “No, my love…not a dream. I am here. Darius and Elias are here. We have come to take you home.” She leaned down and put her hand on his face.

  “Home?”

  He tried to turn his head toward her, but she could see he was too weak. She leaned over him, bringing her face closer. “Yes, home. You have suffered for long, so long. But now we are here.”

  He looked up at her, and she could see the expression on his face, disbelief giving way slowly to comprehension. “Sarah,” he said again, and she could see realization in his eyes.

  “Yes, Erik. You are safe now. We will take you home.”

  She felt the tears inside, struggling to escape her eyes, but she held them back. He needed strength from her now more than anything. You are a Marine, she reminded herself. A veteran of fifty years of war. Hold it together.

  “Home,” he said softly. Then he looked at her with watery eyes. “Love you,” he rasped. Then he slipped back into unconsciousness.

  “I love you too,” she said, rubbing her hand on his face.

  She felt the wave inside her, knew she couldn’t hold it back any longer. She got up and walked across the room, turning the corner and leaning against the wall. She took a deep breath, and then she dropped her guard…and let the tears come.

  * * * * *

  “Where is the Tyrant?” Darius Cain’s voice was terrifying, a vocal manifestation of the violence he felt. He held the Eldari officer in armored hands and shook the man’s body. It took every bit of self-control he could muster not to tear the man’s body in half.

  “I don’t know, sir,” the panicked soldier cried. “I don’t know…I swear!”

  “Ahhhh!” Darius screamed in frustration, throwing the man hard into the wall. “Nobody knows? Nobody?” He was shouting to the Eldari prisoners lined up in front of him. “He just vanished into the wind?”

  Elias was standing a few meters from his brother. The two of them had been questioning the prisoners for over an hour…and the answer was always the same. No one seemed to know what had become of Eldaron’s ruler in the last confused moments when the Citadel fell.

  “Well, let me explain something to you…all of you. My father was held here for many years. He was mistreated all that time, tortured and tormented. And my soldiers were forced to fight a brutal battle here, and many hundreds of them died.” His voice was rising in volume and intensity, and the captive Eldari cowered before him.

  “You know who I am. You have all heard my reputation. My heart craves vengeance, I lust to judge you all, inflict horrors upon your world that you cannot imagine. I warn you not to test the thread that holds me back from yielding to my worst desires. For with a word I will unleash a nuclear hell on this world, one not even the cockroaches will survive. Your homes will be vaporized, your families seared to crisps in the atomic fires.” He paused and panned his eyes over the row of prisoners. “And I tell you now, if I must destroy this world, cleanse it of all life to destroy the Tyrant, then that is what I will do.”

  “I will help you find him.”

  The voice came from behind Darius, and he spun around, looking back toward the room’s entrance. Two of his Eagles stood there holding a man between them. “General Cain,” one of the guards said, “this is General Davidoff, the commander of the forces outside Eldaron City.”

  “General Davidoff,” Darius said, “I will put to you the question I have been asking these fools. Where is the Tyrant?”

  “I do not know where he is, General Cain. But I believe I can help you find him.”

  “And how can you do that?” There was interest in Darius’ voice, but menace as well.

  “I know the main data banks were wiped clean, but I still have my personal files…and they include the complete layout of the Citadel. Including every bolt hole, every secret tunnel.”

  “And you will help my people find the Tyrant? Or is this another trick?”

  “No, General Cain. The Tyrant has been the worst disaster in my world’s history. He has led us to ruin. I will help you find him so he may account for his actions. So that he may face the punishment for what he has done—to your father, to the Black Eagles…and to Eldaron.”

  He paused a few seconds, holding Darius’ withering gaze. “I will do it to save my people, for I know what will happen here if he is not found.”

  “Very well, General Davidoff.” Darius turned toward another armored figure. She was almost thirty centimeters shorter than him, and her retracted helmet revealed a woman with close cropped blonde hair. She was very attractive, but it was the toughness in her expression that stood out. She wore a scowl on her face, and it was clear to anyone who gazed at her that the Eldari could expect no more mercy from her than from Darius Cain…and very likely less.

  “You will go with Colonel Kuragina here, and you will cooperate in any way she requests.” Darius’ eyes had turned back toward Davidoff, but now he flashed another glance at Kuragina. “She has my permission to conduct the search any way she sees fit…including blowing your brains all over the wall if she thinks you are holding back in any way.”

  “Go, Colonel. Take General Davidoff here, and find the Tyrant.” His voice became sharp, frigid. “And bring him to me…alive.”

  * * * * *

  “I can’t believe it. I’ve seen it…I lived through much of it. But I still can’t quite convince myself it’s true. After all these years…he is alive.” Elias Cain sat at the table. It was some kind of wood he’d never seen, and the light hitting it revealed a rich depth of color. He could see it was old, aged in the way fine things often did, acquiring character without yielding beauty. Probably a priceless antique, he thought, as he looked down at the surface, now covered in scratches and deep gouges. It had been dragged here from wherever it had been found, without regard to its value or history. He wanted to frown, to look down on the Eagles as barbarians who only knew how to destroy. But he’d realized he had been wrong about his brother’s soldiers. And he’d seen the carnage of the battlefield…the price the Black Eagles had paid to rescue his own father.

  When you’ve seen hundreds of your comrades fall…when the stench of rotting blood is still thick in your nostrils, it’s hard to give a shit about a fucking table. Or paintings, or statues.

  “I know. When I left to come here, I tried to keep my expectations in check. But now I can see I failed at that. If he hadn’t been here, or if we’d gotten to him too late, I don’t know what I would have done. It would have been like losing him all over again.” Darius sat across the table from his brother. He was still clad in his armor, though his helmet was fully retracted. He’d sent everyone away, even Alcabedo. The area
was secured, and he didn’t need his nursemaid. Besides, he wanted to talk alone with his brother. “He should be on Eagle One by now.” The shuttle had left almost twenty minutes earlier. “Mother is with him…so you know he will get the best care.”

  Elias nodded and smiled. Then his expression became serious again, and he looked at his brother with a pained stare. “Darius, I don’t know how to thank you…for rescuing him. You were the only one who could have done it.” Elias paused. “And I want to apologize as well. To you…and to your Black Eagles. I made very prejudicial judgments, thought of your soldiers in the basest terms, as armed thugs who fought only for money. But I saw them here, fighting for you, dying in their hundreds with no paymaster. Our father lives only because of their sacrifices. I was wrong.” His voice was strained, halting.

  Darius looked across the table, silent for a few seconds. He knew how difficult those words had been to utter, and a smile crept onto his lips. Then he said, “And my thanks to you, brother. For your words now…and for your timely help. I have read the operations reports, and I say now, had you not come to the Nest, and then rallied the Marines to come to our aid, we would have failed here. My Eagles would have been destroyed, and Father would still be a captive…or killed by the Tyrant once he was no longer useful.”

  He stared across at his brother, with whom he had so long been at odds, and he felt something different, a feeling almost forgotten, old, but still vaguely familiar. The bond with a sibling, with a twin. “I have wronged you too, brother,” he said. “I saw you as a martinet, as a willing tool of the forces of corruption and destroyers of freedom. Yet, here you are, having followed your own will, pursued what you knew was right, without regard to the orders from your unjust masters. You are indeed my blood, Elias, and I would take back much of what has transpired between us. I would have my brother back.”

  “I would like that too,” Elias said slowly, his voice heavy with emotion.

  “Then so it shall be.” Darius looked down at his armored hand. I would shake with you, brother, but perhaps that is best left until later. I do not think crushing your hand is the way to celebrate our reconciliation.”