by Jay Allan
The Inner Sanctum was a large triangular room, ten kilometers underground, cut from the solid stone of Vali’s deep crust. The ceiling soared thirty meters above gleaming granite floors, and the center of the room was dominated by a massive table, also a triangle, carved from a single block of polished green stone and bearing the three interlocking rings that symbolized the Triumvirate. There was a large door on each of the chamber’s three sides, the passages to the Triumvirs’ own private domains. Each of the three men who ruled the massive, but utterly secret, Triumvirate had their own offices and private chambers which, by three-decade old agreements between them, were off-limits to the others.
One of the other men nodded. He was called Two, and though, as with One, that was more of a title than a name, he had no other designation. “I concur, One, yet I still feel compelled to advise caution. We have been working many years on the Plan. Indeed, for much of this time, we hoped this Triumvirate would be able to continue to rule and see the Plan to its ultimate fruition.” He looked across the table at One before turning his aged head slowly to face his other companion. “Alas, our greatest efforts have been in vain. The science we need to sustain life has eluded us, and despite my earlier concerns about moving too quickly, I must now agree with One. Time is not our ally. Let us double the bounties.”
The third man took a breath as his colleague finished. “I also agree. While I still encourage that we move surely and without recklessness, I can feel the time running short as both of you do. I fear we must finalize the Plan by the end of the next two Earth years or see all of our efforts fall to nothing. Certainly we must, at the least, increase the productivity of our terrestrial operations.”
“Then we are all agreed,” One said. “The Earth bounties will be doubled.” He nodded his head for emphasis. “Additionally,” he went on, “we must continue to create incidents between the major colony worlds and the Great Companies until there is war throughout Occupied Space.” He paused and drew in a deep, ragged breath. “Let us sow seeds of suspicion and distrust among the colonies, while continuing our campaigns to seize control of the targeted worlds. We have two years, my colleagues. Two Earth years to spread destruction and chaos, but after that, we can delay no longer.” He coughed and took a few seconds to clear his throat.”
“Agreed,” said Three. “It is a short time to prepare for the final phase, but whatever has been accomplished—and whatever remains undone—before two years have passed, we must activate Black Fist.” He paused for a few seconds then continued, “Then we will release Force Omega to sweep away the remnants of the mercenary companies and the planetary militaries. At last, we will achieve the final domination we have worked so long to bring about. All mankind will be ruled by a single force, one that will direct and guide his future.”
One and Two both nodded. “We are all agreed,” Two said grimly. “I suggest that we begin by reviewing our operations to date.” He glanced around the table, acknowledging the nods of his colleagues. “Let us consider our most effective operation. As you are all aware, fifteen years ago, we discovered a dormant base of the First Imperium. That was a stroke of good fortune, facilitated by our decision to continue devoting moderate resources to exploration activities beyond the fringes of human habitation. Our subsequent success in activating its AI yielded considerable results when it immediately executed the twenty year-old directive from the distant Regent—destroy the humans.”
Two cleared his throat, fighting back a coughing spasm as he did. “The war now called the Second Incursion devastated a considerable swath of human-occupied space. The casualties and physical damage inflicted set back the general development level of dozens of worlds, serving our purposes admirably. As a bonus, the remnants of the old Marine Corps, Janissaries, and other veteran formations suffered very heavy losses, further diminishing the pool of retired veterans available to be recalled to service—a process that the passage of time has also aided. The former colonies are incalculably weaker than they would have been had they been allowed three decades of unfettered growth.”
“Indeed, Two, the discovery of Zeta Omicron was a stroke of fortune, though it was not without cost. The war pushed the colonies together again to face the alien menace, interrupting the natural progression toward rivalry and warfare among themselves. Considerable efforts have been required to accelerate that trajectory and create and encourage conflict.” Three leaned back in his chair, shifting his gaze between his two companions as he spoke.
“Indeed,” he continued, “our efforts helped to bring on the development of the mercenary companies, assisting in their founding and growth, if in clandestine ways. The companies, while they also represent a potential military threat to the Plan, were an essential component to bring us to this point. The colonies were too weak, especially after the battles of the Second Incursion, to project strength against rival worlds. But the development of the Companies provided a way for them to strike at enemies, even to subjugate them. And the costs they were compelled to pay bankrupted their treasuries and exceeded the economic value of the beaten and devastated worlds they conquered.”
One nodded. “Your analysis is correct. While the companies do represent a potential threat to the Plan, they have also contributed enormously to weakening the colonies. Indeed, if you will review the most recent analysis of the development of Occupied Space, you will see that both total economic output and aggregate technology level have been declining at an accelerating pace for the last ten years. The Second Incursion, and our subsequent encouragement of internecine conflict has created a tipping point, a reversal from advancement to decline. Mankind is slowly sliding toward a dark age, though it is unlikely anyone outside of this room fully understands this.”
There was a brief silence before One continued. “Moving onto other matters, Three, perhaps you can update us on the status of our operations regarding the Black Eagles?”
Three bowed his head slowly. “Certainly, One. As you are both aware, we unanimously agreed that the Black Eagles mercenary company has become dangerously proficient, representing an intolerable risk to the Plan. Darius Cain has proven to be an extraordinary military leader, more proficient perhaps, than even his father. This has been an unforeseen development, one we decided required immediate intervention.”
He paused for a few seconds, clearing his throat and taking a deep breath. “Our subsequent operation to collect prisoners from the Black Eagles during their invasion of the planet Karelia was less successful than we had hoped. We deployed two stealth vessels, each with a full Omega company aboard to ambush and capture a Black Eagles patrol. Despite the fact that our forces were engaged with only a platoon-sized unit, they were fought nearly to a standstill. In the end, they were barely able to withdraw undetected. They were unable to compel any of the Black Eagles to surrender, and they only took three prisoners, all enemy soldiers who had been wounded and rendered unconscious in the battle. Our casualties were extremely heavy, well over 50% of engaged strength, a loss ratio of five to one despite our numerical superiority.”
Two sighed. “This is disturbing news on multiple levels.” He flashed his eyes toward One then back again to Three. “It appears we have underestimated Darius Cain, an error I fear is unforgivable in light of our knowledge of his father. The younger Cain has succeeded in creating a fighting force vastly superior to any in Occupied Space, apparently including our own Omega warriors.” He paused, looking briefly again at each of his colleagues. “It is apparent we must escalate our efforts to destroy—or at least degrade—the Black Eagles.”
“I concur,” said One.
“And I,” added Three.
“Very well.” He glanced down at a small tablet on the table in front of him. “Our most recent intelligence reports suggest that war is brewing between Lysandria and Albemarle. What is not generally known is that the Albemarlian Senate has just ratified an agreement with the Black Eagles to invade Lysandria for them. One questions how they were able to afford it. They must ha
ve pledged everything of value on the planet to fund the contract.” He paused. “Although the Lysandrians do not yet know of this development, it renders their position hopeless. As a largely agricultural world, they simply do not have the financial resources to mount a defense that has any hope of stopping the Black Eagles. They will be crushed, and Albermarle will be bankrupted…both desirable results for us.”
His voice began to fade, and he paused to regain his breath. “However, I believe we can achieve an even greater benefit and thoroughly increase the effectiveness of this dispute. As you are aware, we control a number of clandestine enterprises on Lysandria, local operations of interplanetary underworld syndicates, mostly. I propose we arrange to provide financial support to the Lysandrian government, allowing them to hire one of the Great Companies to defend them. Indeed, I suggest the Gold Spears. They are among the strongest of the companies, one of the two or three that are even close to a match for the Eagles. And, I believe there is bad blood between the two forces, which may serve to increase the intensity of the fighting and ramp up losses on both sides.”
“Brilliant,” One said. “Though I suspect the Gold Spears are rather less a match for Cain’s people than they style themselves, they will no doubt inflict considerable losses on the Black Eagles. We will not neutralize Darius Cain with a single operation, but your proposal is an excellent start.” He turned his head. “Three?”
“I agree entirely. Let us commence the operation at once.”
He paused, a troubled look on his face. “Before we proceed to reviewing the operations reports from the various planets, I suggest we discuss the other Cain son. Elias Holm, as you all know, is a senior officer in the Atlantian patrol. We have long considered him less of a threat than his brother since his efforts have been mostly in law enforcement and not military operations. However, his investigative abilities have proven to be extremely effective. He has penetrated several of our enterprises on Atlantia and, while they represent only a tiny portion of our revenue, I have become concerned he will discover the connections to our wider network. And that would be a significant problem.”
“Indeed it would, Three.” One looked troubled for a few seconds, but when he continued, his tone was more hopeful. “His follow up beyond Atlantia’s system will be greatly hampered by jurisdictional issues. Perhaps we needn’t be overly concerned. With increasing interplanetary tensions, he will likely find it difficult to obtain the cooperation he will require to truly penetrate our organization at anything above the lowest levels.”
“I am inclined at first to agree,” said Two, “but then I ask myself, do we truly wish to once again underestimate a Cain? We are in the unfortunate position of trying to put remedial action in place to address the power that Darius Cain has amassed under our noses. And let us not forget how Erik Cain was able to defeat our predecessor on the eve of his triumph.” He swallowed hard, and continued in a raspy tone. “Perhaps it is wise to deal with Elias Cain now. Just to be safe.”
“What do you propose?” asked One.
“I think the most direct option is probably the best. Darius Cain is virtually untouchable, surrounded at all times by his fanatically loyal army. This is not the case with Elias. For all his ability and the law enforcement resources at his command, he is far easier to reach.”
“An assassination?” Three sounded intrigued. “Yes, that may be possible. Even more so if we create a diversion, a way to draw him into an exposed location.” His face slowly contorted into a twisted smile. “And I have just the plan…”
Chapter 5
Starship Eagle One
In Orbit Around Lysandria, Delta Sigma III
Earthdate: 2318 AD (33 Years After the Fall)
“How did the Lysandrians manage to hire the Gold Spears?” Darius Cain sat at the small table, staring across at Erik Teller. “Tomlinson did a full financial analysis. There is no way Lysandria could have put together the Spears’ price…even assuming the most extreme range of contingencies. We’d allowed a 10% probability they would be able to retain one of the lesser companies, but none at all that they could afford another Great Company.”
Teller was staring across the table at his friend. Darius was usually as cool as they came, but he could see the leader of the Eagles was agitated. Teller understood—he felt it too. The Eagles had faced the Spears before, three times, in fact. Each contest had been a victory for Cain’s soldiers, as every battle the undefeated Eagles had fought had been. Most companies were quick to surrender to the Eagles. Battles to the bitter end were unprofitable, and a company that fought to utter destruction was out of business. But the Spears wanted the Eagles’ perch; they wanted to stand atop the heap as the undisputed best of the Companies. And they knew that could never happen, not when their hated rivals were still in the way.
The rivalry had grown over time until it had become extremely bitter. When the two forces had last met, Cain warned the Spears—the next time they faced each other there would be no surrender, no quarter. The fight would be to the death. If the Black Eagles found the Gold Spears once again arrayed against them on the battlefield, Cain had sworn it would be the last time. Erik Teller knew his commander and oldest comrade never made a threat he wasn’t willing to carry out. He wondered if the senior officers of the Spears understood that.
“I don’t know, Darius. It doesn’t make sense to me either. The Lysandrian government was almost bankrupt even without the prospect of war. I can’t conceive of any way they could have raised such a sum. Unless they had help.”
“Help?” Cain replied. “You mean another planet? Maybe someone with designs on the Albemarlians?” His face twisted into a frustrated grimace. “No, that doesn’t make sense either. It really doesn’t matter to the Albemarlians if we get banged up in the fight. They paid us to subjugate the defenders. The only way they come out behind is if we lose outright.” Teller knew Cain tried to avoid arrogance at all costs, but he found it difficult to imagine the Eagles actually losing the upcoming fight, and he suspected Cain felt the same way.
“Could it be someone targeting us? Trying to interfere with our contracts? Or to wear us down?” Teller had just been thinking out loud, but now he paused and looked right at Cain. “That has to be it. Somebody is after us, Darius. They want to inflict heavy losses, wear us down. There’s nothing else that makes sense.”
“But who?” Cain was nodding. “I agree with your thinking, but I can’t come up with a guess at who. I wouldn’t put it past that piece of shit Ling to convince himself his Spears could take us, especially with someone encouraging him, but I don’t see anybody else buying into that. We might get shot up pretty badly down there, but we will win…and by the time we leave, no one will even be sure the Gold Spears ever existed.” There was venom in Cain’s voice. Any doubts Teller might have had about Darius following through on his earlier threats evaporated instantly.
“I suggest we revisit the assault plan, at least. We’re going to be facing a much stronger defense than we’d expected.”
“Agreed. Let’s move Cyn Kuragina’s regiment into the vanguard.” Kuragina was a refugee who’d fled from the colony world of Vostok, one step ahead of the law. Neither Cain nor Teller knew what she had done, and neither cared. Black Eagles were born again when they took the company’s oath of service, their prior sins forgotten and forgiven. Such absolution came at a price, however, and Eagles were held to an onerous standard of conduct and duty. They were sworn to serve their brethren, and any who failed in that sacred trust could expect to deal with Darius Cain at his merciless worst. Every Eagle knew their commander would run into the middle of enemy fire to retrieve a wounded private, but they were just as certain he would repay treachery with a cold and merciless justice.
“White Regiment first. Got it.” Teller agreed with the decision. Cyn Kuragina was an odd duck, a woman who looked and acted like she’d been raised as a diplomat’s daughter but who took to soldiering with a gritty vengeance. She was tough as nails and as strong a
tactician as the Eagles had, besides Cain and Teller.
“The Teams will go down with her people. I want the area scouted immediately, and I want snipers in place as soon as possible. The Spears’ officers are all strutting peacocks just like Ling. We should be able to put half of them down in the first few hours.” Like all serious military units, the Gold Spears issued the same armor to their officers and key personnel. But their commander, General Ling, was an arrogant man, and his leadership style permeated his unit. And Darius Cain had trained his Special Action Teams to search for any indication a target was an officer – posture, positioning, behavior. His elite snipers were utterly without peers in Occupied Space, and he was confident they would wreak havoc on the Spears’ command structure.
“Falstaff next?” Teller asked. Evander Falstaff’s commanded the Eagles’ senior unit, the Black Regiment. After the Teams, Falstaff’s people were the most experienced veterans, and they served almost as a guard unit.
“Yes, right behind Kuragina.” Cain’s voice was stern. “And I do mean right behind, Erik. If we mess around with the Spears, they can hurt us. And I don’t want Kuragina’s people down their alone a second longer than necessary.”
“Understood. I’ll run the launch sequences myself.”
“Good.” Cain paused for an instant. “Let’s land Cornin’s Red Regiment next and keep Vandeveer’s Blues in orbital reserve. But I want them ready to land immediately if we need them.”
“Got it, Erik. Still good for launch at 0800?” The Eagles ships ran on Earth time, just as the fleets of the Superpowers had. Earth was a radioactive wreck whose survivors clawed out a miserable existence in the shattered ruins, but she was still man’s original home, and her clock and calendar were still in use across much of human space.