by Jay Allan
“Well,” Gilson said, her voice deeper even than it had been years before, and scratchy now too, “if we can’t have any of those things, we’ll have to rely on what has always carried the Corps to victory. We’ll have to rely on the spirit of the Marines. They will do what must be done, Erik, as they always have.”
Cain stared back across the table, holding back a thousand memories. Then he said, simply, “As they always have.”
Chapter 8
“The Nest” – Black Eagles Base
Second Moon of Eos, Eta Cassiopeiae VII
Earthdate: 2321 AD (36 Years After the Fall)
“Well done, Captain Grayson, well done. All of you…magnificent job.” Darius Cain stood on the deck of the Nest’s landing bay, his eyes darting past Eagle Fourteen’s commander and a cluster of his officers for an instant, as a column of soldiers led the three Black Flag prisoners from Eagle Fourteen’s shuttle. “On the prisoners, and on capturing a Black Flag ship. You achieved vastly more than I dared to hope for. This intelligence will be of immense value. You and your people have covered yourselves in glory. Go, return to your quarters, get some rest. We can wait until tomorrow for serious debriefing.”
“Thank you, General. I am pleased we were able to complete the mission successfully.” The officer stepped back and snapped off a perfect salute before turning and walking off the deck, just as Darius had told him to do.
Elias watched as his brother commended his subordinate, the way the grizzled old veteran responded, almost worshipful toward his commander. Darius had something, there was no arguing that. He’d never seen anyone have such an influence over such hard men and women. This was no politician manipulating half-attentive masses. The Eagles, especially the senior officers, were strong, capable. Yet they withered in Darius’s presence, as if the slightest praise from him was the greatest reward possible, and the merest word of reproach would hit them harder than a hyper-velocity autocannon.
“Great job, Elias,” Darius said as he watched Grayson and his people step out of the bay. “I mean it,” he added a few seconds later. “We’ve had our…differences, I know, but we’re both Cains. We should never let ourselves forget that.” Darius paused again, then, with just the slightest hint of recognizable emotion he said, “I am glad to have my brother back.”
Elias was surprised, not that Darius felt that way, but that he’d actually managed to say it. The two of them had been at odds their entire adult lives, and if there was one thing Elias knew about his twin, it was that Darius Cain did not let sentimentality take control. Not often, at least.
“I feel the same way, Darius. And thank you. I’m also glad we were able to succeed. I wish we’d managed to get more information on Atlantia itself, but it seems pretty clear they’re in the tank for the Black Flag. Elias was somber. It hurt him that his homeworld had fallen into darkness, that he was an enemy to his own people, or at least to the government that ruled them. He suspected Darius felt the same, somewhere deep—very deep—down, but he doubted his brother would ever admit the slightest concern for the world that had considered him an outlaw for almost fifteen years now.
“Intelligence on Atlantia beyond what you already gathered would be of little value. However, the prisoners, and the ship…they are potentially of great worth.”
“You think the captives know something about Vali?” Elias and his allies knew the name of the enemy’s homeworld, but little else, save that it was hidden, and that it was the greatest fortress and industrial powerhouse that ever existed, one no doubt built by slave labor, much of it taken from the ruined Earth.
“I hope so. One thing is certain. I will find out what they know.”
Elias suppressed a shiver at his brother’s tone. He knew they needed to get any knowledge that the prisoners had, but the casual coldness in Darius’s voice when he discussed an interrogation process Elias could only imagine was…complete…was unsettling.
“We will tear that ship apart too. I’m sure they did everything they could to hide any useful data, but just maybe you managed to disable any systems that would have erased what we need. Clearly, they rely on a self-destruct doctrine, very likely enforced by ships’ AIs or heavy conditioning. Perhaps the failure of this ship to destroy itself will have left some clues, something we can use to track down this shadowy enemy world.”
“Perhaps,” Elias responded. “What do we do if we are able to find it, Darius?” Elias knew there would be millions of slaves on Vali, men and women who’d been kidnapped from Earth, from raids on other worlds and ships captured in the depths of space. People who had families, loved ones. He thought of the pain he’d felt at his father’s disappearance, and at the joy when Erik Cain had returned to his family. How many others were still in despair, still longing for the return of those they’d missed for so long. He wondered how they could rescue those people, get them off the enemy fortress world and return them to their homes. But he knew what Darius was going to say, before his brother’s mouth even moved. And it troubled him.
“We’re going to destroy it, Elias. We’re going to blast these bastards with so many gigatons it will make what happened on Earth during the Fall look like a fireworks display.”
* * * * *
“I think I’m going to tell you what I did to the Tyrant of Eldaron…again. He didn’t put up that much of a fight, but then after the whole battle, I needed some leisure too, so I went a little…farther…than I probably had to.” Darius Cain stood next to the captive, his face a haggard scowl. The Black Flag’s conditioning was impressive. Whatever these pirates knew, and he realized that could be little or nothing, he hadn’t been able to get a word out of them despite—spirited—interrogation.
No response at all. It was eerie, and it gave him pause, concerns about what his people were about to fight. It had been years since Darius Cain had met anyone in Occupied Space he couldn’t scare. Not just scare, but downright terrify. The stories about him were mostly exaggerations, or outright falsehoods, some even started or encouraged by him. It had all been very useful, the horror that descended on his target worlds as his forces arrived. Any enemy you could intimidate into submission was one you didn’t have to kill…and one who didn’t get a chance to kill you. But the shadow of the infamous Darius Cain meant nothing to these pirates, and despite all the fear he’d tried to instill, not to mention a fair amount of physical discomfort, they had refused to answer a single question or provide so much as a first name.
Darius stared at the man, feeling the frustration building. He knew his reputation, he was well aware that millions in Occupied Space imagined he wouldn’t hesitate to inflict the most diabolical torture on his enemies. Indeed, he had done just that to the defeated Tyrant, but there had been a rage there like none he’d ever felt before, an inferno kindled by his first sight of his father’s tormented form in the dank, hideous cell where he’d lived for fifteen years of hell. Nothing could have kept him back from the man responsible for that nightmare, and no morality, no restraint, could have mattered an iota in how that story had ended. But generally, Darius had no love of causing pain, and only cultivated fear for the utility of it, not some sick enjoyment of the dread he caused in others.
There was a difference, however, between him and most others. He would do what he had to do, even if he didn’t want to, even if it sickened him. The stakes here were no less than the freedom, even the very survival of humanity. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to an enemy to prevent that ultimate disaster.
He would have tortured the pirate mercilessly if that had been necessary, but he suspected no amount of pain could overcome the enemy’s conditioning…and the Black Flag apparently had no less ability to weaponize fear than he did. No, the answer here would come from a doctor’s syringe, perhaps even surgery. He would have to resort to the tools the enemy had employed to make their warriors unbreakable.
We’ll see if they’re really unbreakable…
He reached over to the comm unit. “Send Doctor Hind dow
n to the detention area. Now. I need his assistance with a prisoner.”
“Yes, General Cain. At once.”
Darius stood and stared at the prisoner for a few minutes. The man was still silent, utterly so. He just sat still, staring at the far wall, without so much as the slightest hint of fear on his face. Darius was impressed. He’d seen conditioning, and he’d heard of what Gavin Stark had done with his Shadow Legions, before he’d even been born, but this had to be the most effective job he’d ever seen.
The door slid open, and Hind dashed through with two of his assistants right behind him. “General…” He snapped off a crisp salute, followed almost at once by the two junior officers standing behind him.”
“Doctor,” Darius responded, returning the salute. “I need your help. I can’t seem to break this prisoner’s conditioning. I want you to do a thorough scan and examination. We must know what he knows…millions of lives depend on it, and I’m looking to you to find a way to get past the block.”
“I’ll do everything I can, sir.” Hind didn’t sound enormously hopeful, but he didn’t suggest he couldn’t do it either. ‘Couldn’t do it’ wasn’t really in the Eagles’ vocabulary.
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“With your permission, I’d like to move him to the infirmary. The brainscanner is there, and I’ll have an easier time working my way through the whole thing.” A pause. “I’ll finish a lot faster.”
“Very well, Doctor, but I want two guards there at all times, around the clock.” He turned toward one of the Eagles standing against the far wall. “Sergeant, you take one soldier with you and escort Doctor Hind’s team and the prisoner to the infirmary. You will remain there until relieved. Under no circumstances will you leave the prisoner unguarded. Understood?”
“Yes, sir!”
Cain stood and watched as Hind’s people brought in a power chair and eased the prisoner onto it. The sergeant was standing less than a meter away, rifle in hand, looking for all the world as though he was determined to show Darius how seriously he took the general’s charge.
A few seconds later, the door slid open. “Darius…General…” Erik Teller walked through. The Eagles’ second in command had clearly thought Darius was alone. He almost never greeted his friend informally in front of other Eagles.
“What is it, Erik?” Cain could hear the urgency in Teller’s tone.
“It’s Dr. Sparks, General. He’s completed some analysis on the enemy ship. He’s found…well, I think you should come and see. Right now.”
Darius felt a wave of excitement, and he gestured for Teller to move toward the door. The two men walked out in the corridor. “Has he found a link to the enemy’s headquarters?”
“No, General, at least not conclusively, but there is something else.”
Darius almost pressed harder, but he could tell his oldest friend wanted Sparks to explain. The Eagles’ chief scientist was as brilliant a man as he’d ever known. Sparks served him now, as he had Darius’s father and the Marines years before. Though his pay has gone up about fifty-fold. Sparks had carried a brigadier’s rank in the Corps, but the Eagles had only ever had one general, so Sparks was called simply, ‘Doctor.’
Teller led Darius into the lift and down to one of the landing bays. As soon as they stepped out of the car, Darius saw Sparks standing there. He knew the researcher was north of ninety years old, but just as his own parents had, Sparks had received the old rejuv treatments most of his adult life. He had wiry gray hair, perhaps just a touch of the mad scientist look to him, but otherwise he resembled a healthy man in his mid-late fifties.
“General, thank you for coming right down. I have far from completed my studies on the Black Flag vessel, but I have made a determination I felt you should hear at once, one I did not wish to trust to normal transmissions.”
That last bit made Darius tense up as much as any of the rest of it. The Nest had the most sophisticated AI and communications systems in Occupied Space. If Sparks was worrying about someone intercepting their transmissions, that could only mean trouble.
“Well, Doctor, we’re all here—and Colonel Teller here seemed to feel I should hear this from you—so, let’s have it.”
“As I said, sir, I began the analysis of the Black Flag vessel. I could tell immediately that their technology was a match for ours…at least.”
Darius didn’t like the ‘at least’ part.
“But it was only after I was able to partially disassemble several main systems that I realize what I was looking at.”
“And what was that, Doctor?”
“The First Imperium.”
Darius felt his stomach tighten. Despite the widespread belief that he never felt fear, that was utter nonsense. “Are you certain?” The last First Imperium encounter had taken place when Darius was still a teenager, but he knew enough about the strange robotic forces to understand the magnitude of what he was hearing.
“Yes, there is no question. Portions of the technology are unmistakable.”
Darius shook his head. “I’ve never heard of First Imperium forces using human recruits, or seeking to subjugate rather than exterminate. If we are facing the First Imperium, something very different is happening than what occurred before.”
“I don’t believe we are facing the actual First Imperium, General. I am saying that First Imperium technology has been adapted by whatever force we are up against. Much as we have done over the years, as we have deciphered their science bit by bit.”
Darius stated back at Sparks. “So, Doctor, who exactly do you think we’re dealing with?”
“I can’t say, General, not yet at least. But I can tell you it is someone more familiar with First Imperium technology than we are…and that very likely means if these small raiders are as technologically capable as they seem, when we are confronted with true warships, we will very likely be facing vessels more advanced and capable than our own.”
Darius stood in the bay, silent, thinking about what he’d just heard. He had understood what Sparks said immediately, but the implications took a few seconds to fully form in his thoughts. When they did, a single word summed it up.
Shit.
Chapter 9
Atlantian Capitol
Planet Atlantia, Epsilon Indi II
Earthdate: 2321 AD (36 Years After the Fall)
“It is time, Den. At last.” The relief in Asha Mazeri’s voice was profound. She’d spent close to three years following the officious DeSilva around, aiding him in his clumsy power grab, and deploying the bribes, blackmail, and threats that kept him secure as the effective dictator of Atlantia. All the while, the damned fool thought he’d achieved it all himself, that the Black Flag had only provided basic support.
DeSilva did have some talents, of the sort possessed by a reasonably competent corrupt machine politician. His skills were ideal for emptying the graveyards into the polls or losing entire ballot machines full of the opposition’s votes, and indeed, he had managed to secure his own election without any significant assistance, save perhaps financial support. But it was one thing to be a political boss, and an elected president, and quite another to secure the absolute, unchallenged rule of a planet. Armando DeSilva was exactly that now, and for two years, Mazeri had seen to it that every shred of opposition, every hint of dissent, had been ruthlessly swept away. DeSilva thought of himself as a hard man, but he’d never have had the stomach to do what she had, and even now, two years into his brutal rule, she’d never told him all the things she had done in his name.
Now, finally, she could dispense with the charade. She had no further need of DeSilva’s name, nor the vestiges of his political organization. The freighters bringing in trade goods from other Black Flag worlds had carried a secret shipment…soldiers. Now she had enough forces to take open control of Atlantia, and to put herself in DeSilva’s place.
“What are your orders, Your Excellency?” Den Tarlton was Mazeri’s second-in-command. For two years he had posed as her aide, alm
ost as a secretary of sort. She imagined that had been galling to him, and she was virtually certain that just as she had imagined removing DeSilva and becoming Atlantia’s ruler, so he had harbored visions of one day overthrowing her. It was the way of the Black Flag, and she herself had supplanted no less than three superiors to get where she was now. She understood Tarlton’s ambitions, and she didn’t fault him for them, not really. But she would make sure that when the time came, it was he who ended up face down in a ditch somewhere, and not her.
“It is time for President DeSilva to pass into the annals of history.” A pause. “See to it yourself, Den. Take as much force as you need. I want no slipups.” Mazeri knew just how the Black Flag viewed failure.
“Yes, Your Excellency.” Tarlton was jumping the gun on her title—technically, she was still just Minister Mazeri—but she didn’t mind her aide’s pandering. She rather liked the sound of ‘Your Excellency,’ and she was happy to give it a go a few hours ahead of schedule.
“All of DeSilva’s cabinet members must also be killed, and their assistants. I have personnel ready to assume the positions. And see that our secret troops are deployed to all vital locations.” Mazeri had spent three years replacing army commanders with those loyal to her, deploying the bribery and blackmail she’d used to secure DeSilva’s position to undermine the president now. But she wasn’t ready to trust Atlantian units, not with something this important.
“They will all be eliminated, Your Excellency. I can assure you of that.”
Mazeri nodded. “Go then, Den, and come back here when it is done.” Mazeri always suspected betrayal, but she wasn’t overly concerned here. Tarlton would absolutely betray her if he got the chance, she was sure enough of that. But her aide’s route to power required her to seize it first. Tarlton simply wasn’t tied in enough to the Black Flag forces on the planet and the native ministers supporting her. It was a safety net of sorts, one for which she was grateful, but also one she knew wouldn’t last.