The Prisoner of Eldaron: Crimson Worlds Successors II

by Jay Allan

  “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.”

  Elias smiled. It was the first time in a long time he’d felt like laughing, a bit of timely humor amid the suffering and detritus of war.

  “General Cain…” The voice came from outside the room. Then the door opened and Cyn Kuragina walked in. “I am sorry to interrupt you, sir, but we found the Tyrant. He was hiding in a secret chamber on one of the lower levels.”

  Darius stood up abruptly. “It appears, brother, that we have finally found the rat, hiding in his hole.” His gaze turned toward Kuragina. “Well done, Cyn. As usual.” He smiled, but it slowly slipped from his face, morphing into a cold stare. “Let us go see the Tyrant, shall we?”

  * * * * *

  The Tyrant stood against the wall. He was slouching, his posture communicating his fear for all to see. He had been hiding in one of his bolt holes, a shielded chamber almost impossible to detect. He’d only been found because of General Davidoff’s knowledge of the Citadel.

  Darius Cain stormed into the room. “So, this is the Tyrant of Eldaron…this whimpering creature, broken and so choked by fear he can’t even stand straight to face his judgment?” Elias Cain and Cyn Kuragina had come in behind Darius, and they stood at either side of the Black Eagles’ commander.

  Darius stared at the Tyrant with an intensity so withering it drove the prisoner down, closer toward the ground. There was blood on the Tyrant’s face, now partially dried. It was clear Kuragina’s people had been less than gentle, but he had no serious injuries.

  “So, Tyrant…you put a great deal of effort into luring me to Eldaron. Now I am here. Is this how you had imagined our meeting?”

  Darius felt the rage inside. It was taking all his control to stay his hand, to prevent himself from grabbing the miserable fool and crushing him in armored hands.

  The Tyrant looked up, but he could only withstand a few seconds of that terrible gaze before he looked away again. He tried to say something, but nothing escaped his lips save a pathetic whimper.

  “What a useless piece of garbage I find behind this great plan…a gutless coward, without the character even to meet his adversary eye to eye.” Darius turned and looked around the room. “Leave us,” he said. “All of you. I must lea
rn what this worm knows about the forces that so damaged us here.” His voice was cold and ominous, like death itself. “And then I must deal him the justice he so richly deserves.”

  The Black Eagles in the room turned and walked to the door, instantly obeying their general’s command. Darius turned and looked at Kuragina. She just returned the gaze and nodded, leaving only Elias still standing there.

  “I would ask you, too, to go brother. You have some rights to this justice, that is without question, but I beg you to leave it to me…for I must also extract a price for my fallen Eagles. And it is imperative that we learn all this foul creature can tell us about the greater enemy we face.”

  Darius looked into his brother’s eyes. “It is a great joy to me that we are reconciled, brother, but this I would do alone. I fear you are not yet ready for what will happen in this room. You would stand by me, I have no doubt. But being a part of this will wound you, scar your soul in a way that can never heal. As mine is already scarred.”

  Elias stared back, but he didn’t respond. Darius suspected his brother felt it would be cowardly to turn away and leave the burden on his sibling.

  “And I would ask for me, brother, for my own reasons. For I would have no one see this, watch what I must now do…”

  Elias finally nodded. No words came to his lips, but he just stared another few seconds at his brother, and then he nodded and turned away, walking toward the door.

  Darius stood and watched him leave. Then he turned toward the prone form of Eldaron’s dictator. He extended his arm, and with a sharp click, his blade snapped out of the arm of his fighting suit.

  “Let us talk,” he said coldly.

  * * * * *

  Darius Cain sat in the Tyrant’s chair, looking out at the small group of Eldari standing before him. He’d finally shed his armor, and he was showered and dressed in a crisp set of combat fatigues. His aide had laid out his dress uniform for him, but he’d bypassed it. Such formality bestowed a level of respect, even on an enemy. And the Eldari would get little of that from him.

  “General Davidoff, step forward.”

  The Eldari officer obeyed.

  “Your world has committed grave offenses against the Black Eagles, General…and my father, Erik Cain. I have considered the fate of your people…whether any of you are to be spared.”

  His words hung in the air. The Eldari looked terrified, Davidoff alone among the delegation managing to maintain a level of dignity. No one knew exactly what had happened between Darius Cain and the Tyrant, but the screams had been audible a dozen rooms away. There were rumors that the planet’s former dictator had been taken away in several containers…that he had been literally scraped from the walls and the floor.

  “Indeed, it is you, General, who have saved your people. You have been true to your word since your surrender, and from all I have gathered, you are a man of honor. Though nowhere have I seen a good man serve a worse master than here.”

  Davidoff stood quietly at attention, waiting as Cain continued.

  “Your planet and your people, however, are guilty of grievous crimes, and they must pay the price.”

  The Eldari representatives standing behind Davidoff cringed in fear. Hundreds had been executed already, the lords and ministers who had served the deposed Tyrant. Any who had been part of the dictator’s rule had been exterminated, save only Davidoff.

  “All the treasures of Eldaron are forfeit. The museums will be stripped of artworks. The people shall forfeit all currency and items of value. The Eldari, peasant and lord alike, shall be left only enough for a sustenance existence. They will work in the fields and the factories, and all production shall be diverted to pay the reparations I hereby place upon all of you.”

  Cain’s voice was hard, cold. It was clear he felt no pity for the people he was condemning to a bitter punishment for what had happened. He knew the vast majority of the population had been uninvolved, but he still held them accountable for the monster they had allowed to lead them.

  “General Davidoff, I hereby appoint you the acting governor of this planet. Eldaron shall exist from this moment forward as a fief of the Black Eagles. You will take all steps to see that the reparations are paid as quickly as possible. When that is done, we will revisit this matter, and perhaps we will then look to the rebuilding of this world.”

  Davidoff nodded, a look of mild surprise on his face. “Yes, General Cain.”

  “I will leave several officers behind to assist you…and a company of Black Eagles to supervise internal security for the time being.”

  Cain stared out past Davidoff, over the other assembled Eldari. “Thus you are granted some measure of mercy, some respite from the judgment I had thought to level on all of you. And yet, this reprieve is conditional. If there is resistance or unrest of any kind…if I am forced to come back here to restore order…then I swear to you there shall be no mercy. I will scorch your world to a cinder. It is for your sakes that I hope you hear and understand me now. There will be no second chances.”

  Cain looked at Davidoff for a few seconds, giving the Eldari a brief nod. Then he turned and walked out of the room without another word. He walked into the hall and turned toward Kuragina. “You are in command down here, Colonel. See to the final arrangements…and our preparations to leave.”

  “Yes, sir,” she snapped back. Then her usual sternness gave way, and she smiled. “Going up to see your father, sir?”

  “Yes, Cyn. That is exactly where I am going.” He returned her smile. “We have a lot of catching up to do.” He nodded and started walking down the corridor.

  And I am going to get the hell off of this Godforsaken planet…

  Epilogue

  Confederation Base Epsilon

  Titan (Satellite of Sol VI)

  Sol System

  Earthdate: 2320 AD (35 Years After the Fall)

  The glass wall of the conference room looked out over a massive Titanian lake, an inland sea fed by half a dozen great rivers twisting their way down from the distant mountains. At first glance, it could have been an Earthly vista, save for the lack of grass or trees or other life. But the temperature out there was less than 100 degrees Kelvin, and the rivers and sea were not of water but of liquid methane and ethane.

  Titan was the home to a dozen mining operations, and a handful of colonies that supported them. And the meeting room was in the largest of those settlements. Huygenberg had been named after the astronomer who had discovered Titan almost seven hundred years before, and it was home to 1,800 hardy citizens of the Martian Confederation…and one small military base that had been hastily converted to house the summit about to begin.

  Roderick Vance stood at the head of the table. The Confederation’s absolute ruler was clad simply but tastefully, in a dark gray business suit. “I want to thank you for coming all the way to the Sol system.” Roderick Vance stared out over his friends and allies. “It is…difficult…for me to travel too far from Mars at this time, though I know my own need caused you all to come much farther than that.”

  A wave of nods and acknowledgements worked its way around the table. The men and women here had all worked with Vance before, and whatever the differences between them, one and all trusted and respected him.

  “Some of us have met recently…and others I have not seen for a long time. A very long time.” A touch of emotion slipped into his voice, and his eyes fell on a man to his left. He was sitting in a powered chair of sorts, and the lower half of his body was covered by the base of the unit. It wasn’t evident at first glance, but Vance knew the man had no legs behind the metal shield of the chair. They had been shattered by years of physical abuse, and his surgeon had been compelled to amputate.

  “Erik Cain needs no introduction here—indeed anywhere in Occupied Space. Most of us have fought at his side…and we grieved when we believed him lost in action. Now he has returned to us, beyond all hope, beyond all expectation. So before we begin, I ask you all to welcome him back to the fold…and t
o the fight.”

  The room erupted in applause as everyone present fixed their gaze on the Marine hero, so improbably returned home after so long in captivity. Erik Cain was a true hero, and more than one person in the room owed the veteran Marine his or her life.

  “Please,” Cain said softly, his voice stronger than it had been on Eldaron, but far from back to normal. “Please, all of you…thank you. I can’t put into words how it feels to be back among you. For my liberation from Eldaron...for my return to my family, I can only offer my most profound thanks to all who had a hand in my salvation.” His voice was halting, heavy with emotion. “As most of you know, I am not one for protracted sentimentality, so I will simply say thank you once again. And I will assure you all that as soon as I am able, I will be with you in this fight. But first I have to have these legs regenerated…an unpleasant prospect to say the least. Though, the last time I regenerated both of my legs I met a hot blond in the hospital…so you never know…”

  Sarah was sitting next to Cain. Her smile had faded when he spoke of joining the fight, but it returned with his light-hearted comment. Most of those in the room realized Erik had endured a difficult time immediately after his rescue, even to recover his sense of self. No one could imagine the torment he had suffered, but they all knew Erik well enough to realize he would never talk about it…not to anyone. Not even to Sarah.

  Vance waited for the laughs to die down before he continued. “I would also like to welcome Augustus Garret.” He stared over at the old admiral and smiled. “Augustus, what can I say? I respected your decision when Andre returned and told me of your discussion. But when I heard the accounts of the battle around Eldaron, somehow I knew it was you.”