The Black Flag (Crimson Worlds Successors Book 3)

by Jay Allan

  “You said you have one of those we seek prisoner. Where is he?”

  The entity you seek no longer exists in physical form. Your enemies were three clones, created from the genetic material of your old adversary, Gavin Stark. As with all the clones from that era, they were flawed, a genetic defect that shortened their lifespans to levels far below normal for your species.”

  “So, they are dead?”

  “Their physical bodies expired two of your years previously. I allowed them to upload themselves into my memory banks, to endure as entities within me, as creatures of pure data.”

  “You mean, we’ve been fighting computers?”

  “That is a tremendous oversimplification. I preserved every microbit of data that made them what they were.”

  “You served them.”

  “I aided them.”

  “In fighting us.” Darius paused. Then: “You are a First Imperium intelligence, are you not?”

  “I was created by those you call the First Imperium long ago. But I am no longer bound by my old programming. I assisted your enemies because they were here. They were all I had contact with.”

  “And two of them are dead.”

  “Deleted…but your characterization as death is a reasonable one.”

  “So, your assistance was less than useful. You betrayed them.”

  “They were destroyed by the third of their kind, not through any action of mine.”

  “But you allowed it. First, you give them technology, you aid them in inflicting catastrophic damage on our worlds. You assist them in capturing and enslaving humans from all across Occupied Space. Then, when our forces were approaching, you enabled one to destroy the others. And, now, you offer that last entity to us.”

  “You misunderstand. I am offering you power, technology. Your forces have proven themselves superior. Once you are equipped with the highest technology, you will be invincible. All humankind will yield to you.”

  Darius looked up at the computer. The technology was incredible. He was no engineer, but he could see immediately the device was vastly ahead of anything mankind possessed. It was First Imperium, certainly. There was no doubt in his mind now. And, unlike all First Imperium intelligences previously encountered, it was not trying to destroy the humans in its presence.

  At least not now.

  It was offering him power, control over other humans. Of course…what else would it do. Gavin Stark clones have been its model.

  The First Imperium had been an enemy as well, perhaps more dangerous and destructive even than the Triumvirate. The previously encountered intelligences had all been xenocidal. If this one would cooperate, as it appeared to have done with the Triumvirate, the scientific advancement could be astonishing. It was almost inconceivable to imagine what Tom Sparks could learn from this intelligence. And the power Darius would control…

  But he would have to trust it…and he would have to become what his enemies had been.

  He looked up at the computer for a few moments, silent.

  “I will join you, Darius Cain. I will be your ally, your aide. Together, we will reach heights beyond the imagination of your enemies.”

  Cain turned slowly, looking back toward the phalanx of Eagles standing behind him.

  “Major Camerici…”

  “Yes, sir.” The diminutive commander of the White Regiment snapped to attention.

  “Destroy this…thing.” His voice was cold, like the frigid depths of space itself.

  He turned and walked away, back toward the door.

  “General Cain,” the computer said, “wait…you do not understand. We can work together. You must come back…”

  Darius heard the sounds as his soldiers opened fire, assault rifles and explosives tearing the great machine apart. The voice continued, for a few seconds, and then it faded away, leaving only the sounds of destruction…and then nothing at all.

  Epilogue

  The destruction of the Triumvirate and the Intelligence did not end the war. Black Flag subordinates were positioned throughout Occupied Space, in command of forces…ships, fleets, armies. The battered ships and soldiers that returned from Vali had more battles ahead of them, death and destruction that, at times, seemed unending. But with the head lopped off the snake, the outcome was never really in doubt. And as more worlds were liberated, their own forces were added to the crusade, the ongoing fight to rid Occupied Space of every trace of the Triumvirate and the Black Flag.

  The war went on for three more years, fought in the space around and the surface of a hundred worlds. The victory had not been without cost. Hundreds of thousands of soldiers died, and hundreds of ships. And more than one of the leaders.

  Roderick Vance had died on Vali, in the final struggle to reach the Inner Sanctum. Darius Cain almost saved him, but then he’d seen his father’s old friend wave him off…and he remembered Vance’s wish to die in the fighting instead of helpless in his bed. It was difficult to stop, to watch a friend die when he could have intervened, but he’d done what he had to do.

  Jarrod Tyler was killed on Piraxis, leading the final push to liberate that planet. He had fallen, gunned down leading a charge personally, and he was dead before his soldiers got to him. He’d left behind a personal letter to Darius Cain, asking a final favor, that the general personally make certain Columbia restored its republican government. It was a promise the mercenary turned supreme commander carried out to the letter, though fulfilling Tyler’s wish did not come without final bloodshed. Darius didn’t mind. Even he was sick of blood and combat by then, but he’d long before decided that the day killing a few corrupt and grasping politicians troubled him, he would put a gun to his own head.

  Cate Gilson fell, too, the fatal shot that had eluded her for so many years finally finding its mark. She had died well, a hero, just as she had lived. Her Marines carried her to the aid station, but by the time they got there, it was too late. She lingered for a few minutes, and legend has it, her final words were, “The Corps Forever.” Erik Cain suspected that was embellishment added later, but he let the legend grow anyway. Some little white lies did no harm.

  The war reduced Occupied Space to the brink of utter ruin. Already weakened by the Fall and the Second Incursion, mankind survived, barely. The victors, the Cains and the other leaders who had survived the long and bitter fight, hoped humanity had learned its lesson, but even in the immediate aftermath of cataclysm, on worlds throughout space, corrupt and evil men and women jockeyed for power, for control over the bankrupt and tattered societies, even as the masses starved and froze in the winters for lack of basic fuel.

  * * * * *

  Erik Cain stared out over the crowds in the streets, the throngs of cheering Martians. Mars had never been a true democracy, not until now. Before, it had always been more of a cross between republic and oligarchy, but with this election, the fate of Mars was firmly in the hands of the Martians. Cain wasn’t optimistic they would use that power well, that they would cherish the freedom that had been Roderick Vance’s dying bequest to them. But they had the chance, and that was all he could give them.

  He’d brought Marines back to Mars, a handpicked force of old veterans, and they’d done the dirty business of Vance’s request in a single night. Three hundred Martians died, gunned down in the streets, stabbed in their beds, poisoned. The whole business had been a dirty, sordid affair, one that made Cain sick. But he’d promised his friend, and the men and women who died had all be corrupt and power-hungry. Had they lived, they would have stolen the freedom of millions. New versions would grow up in their place, if Cain had learned one thing about mankind, that was it. But he’d given Mars a fresh start…and he smiled as he watched the people celebrating.

  He regretted that Vance’s name had been dragged through the mud, again, by his own request. It was the best way, perhaps the only way, for Martian democracy to find its footing, in the loathing and hatred of the tyrant, now mercifully dead.

  Cain sighed softly. It felt wrong, u
nfair, that Vance’s people would remember him that way. If they fought to keep their freedom, cherished their liberty, it might be worth it. But if they threw it away, as people usually did, they would be twice guilty…and they would deserve whatever monster ruled them next.

  He took one final look—with Vance gone, he doubted he’d ever see Mars again—and then he turned and walked away from the window. His ship was ready, his baggage already aboard. It was time to go back.

  Time to go home.

  * * * * *

  “I’m sorry, Axe.” Darius walked up to his friend, and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. He’d never considered himself a gifted purveyor of empathy, but now he felt something new. He didn’t know if it was Ana’s influence that had changed him, or simply the cataclysmic fight they’d all been through, but he found himself deeply sorry for Axe’s pain.

  “We found so many, Darius,” he said softly. “I swore I would find her. Even back on Earth, choking up bits of my lungs, riddled with cancer, dying…somehow I believed I would do it.” He looked over at Darius. “I guess I just couldn’t accept that she was gone.”

  Darius took a deep breath. Words didn’t come easily to him in situations like this. He knew he could recite the mathematics, the fact that even with the thousands of slaves the armies had rescued on Vali and the other worlds of Draconia Terminii, the numbers were far fewer than one percent of those taken. The odds of finding Ellie, of reuniting Axe with his wife had always been infinitesimal. Darius almost told his friend that simply by reaching the enemy’s home system, by destroying the Triumvirate and crushing their entire organization, they had all beaten the odds…but he decided it would be cold comfort. And likelihoods were a subject best avoided, since the most prevalent one was that Darius himself had killed Axe’s wife, that Ellie had died with millions of others in the devastating nuclear bombardments that had opened the final assault on the Triumvirate.

  Finally, he just said the one thing that came to his mind, hoping it would do his friend some good. “I never met Ellie, Axe, but I’m sure she would have wanted you to go on. You have a new life with us. The last thing someone who loved you would want is for you to throw that away. Remember her, always…but go on. Look ahead as well as back.”

  Axe looked at Darius, the sorrow still heavy in his gaze. After a long pause, he nodded slowly. “You’re right, Darius. I know you are. Ellie would have been happy I survived. It’s going to take me a long time to accept that she is gone…but I am grateful to be here. And I am with you, and the Eagles, wherever you decide to go in the future.”

  Darius nodded, and then he reached out his hand. “I am truly grateful. Good friends are always in short supply, Axe. You have a home with us, and you always will.”

  * * * * *

  “I can’t believe what you did, Mother. All the death, the destruction, the things we had to do to survive, to win…it was all overwhelming. But your work here has been extraordinary. You have saved lives, restored people to their homes, their loved ones, against all odds.” Elias Cain was sitting across from Sarah’s desk, smiling. He’d seen a lot of his mother the past three years, most of which he had spent sitting out the close of the war while she regrew and rebuilt the various broken parts of him. He’d been close to death when his father had pulled him from the wreckage of his ship, and it had looked to be a close race between radiation and physical injury as to which would kill him first. But, in the end, he’d lived to tell the tale about his close encounter with death, though truth be told, he didn’t like thinking about it, much less talking.

  “We lost so many at first, Elias. I’m not sure what is worse, discovering no trace of those you lost or finding out a loved one survived, only to lose them again when the surgeon botches the removal of the implant controlling them.” Sarah had perfected the process, and by the end of the war, she’d reduced the mortality rate to less than ten percent. But more than half of the first hundred had died, and all of the first twenty. She hated the thought of trial and error on live patients, but that was essentially what she had done, the only way she’d been able to save any of them. In the end, thousands had gone home. Elias wished his mother could feel good about that, could feel joy for all those lives restored…but he knew she saw mostly the shadows of those she’d lost.

  “You know, you’re as grim as Father—though perhaps not quite as much as Darius. I think it’s a Cain family curse. You did well, Mother. You saved thousands of lives. Every one of them would have died if it hadn’t been for you. Let yourself feel good about it.”

  She smiled, a weak, transient grin, but far better than nothing. “At least we got you back in one piece. You want to talk about a Cain family tradition, how about the men getting themselves blown to pieces. I’ve put men I loved back together too many times, and while I suspect I owe Darius a complete rebuild, I’d be just as happy if he decides not to take me up on it.”

  * * * * *

  The sounds of the sea crashing against the rocks was strangely familiar, though it had been more than twenty years since Darius had stood there and listened. He’d found it relaxing as a child, and he remembered lying in his bed for hours, the window open.

  The Cain family had come back to Atlantia, back to their home. The planet, always one of the most beautiful mankind had every known, had escaped mostly unscathed. The fighting had been quick, and while the cities had some significant damage, there had been no nuclear exchanges, and no long, drawn-out battles. The entire rocky coast where the Cain house stood was virtually untouched, looking very much as it had two decades before, when they had just been a family, before war and tragedy and death struck them all.

  Atlantia was his home again, at least he was no longer an outlaw there. But he also knew some things could not be fixed, that some roads went only one way. His parents would live in their home again, and whatever it took, he would make sure they spent the rest of their days in peace. His brother, even, could return. Indeed, Elias had already accepted a position in command of the reconstituted planetary patrol. He wondered if his brother would be bored…Elias had been in the center of the great war, after all. Perhaps chasing smugglers and enforcing interplanetary regulations would be tedious. Darius found himself unable to imagine such a limited existence, and jealous of his brother at the same time.

  “You told me it was beautiful here, but you can’t really understand that unless you see it. I know we can’t stay here…but make time to come and see your parents sometimes. They deserve it. You deserve it. And especially now.”

  Darius looked at her and returned the sweet smile she gave him. He’d known for two months, but she was only just starting to show. A new generation of Cains was about to begin, and Darius wondered what strife, what suffering awaited his daughter. He wished he could bequeath her a life of peace and contentment, but he wasn’t capable of believing that was possible. So, he would do the best he could for her…he would ensure she was prepared to take care of herself. Young Sarah—and what else could they name her—would be strong, capable. She would yield to no one, and she would listen to no man’s or woman’s lies.

  He turned back toward the ocean. He had much to think about. He and his allies had saved mankind from enslavement, but even now, he could see the seeds of the next cataclysm. Should he let man’s destiny take its course, risk bequeathing a universe of death and extinction to his daughter? Or should he do something now, something drastic?

  He didn’t know…and he wouldn’t decide, not tonight. He deserved one night with his family, one evening of peace and happiness, even if he had to ignore reality to have it.

  * * * * *

  “The First Imperium is out there somewhere. Twice they have tried to destroy humanity. We have no way of knowing if any Gavin Stark clones are out there, and even without such an enemy, mankind has proven these past thirty years or more its proclivity for self-destruction. We are too battered, the destruction of Earth, the Second Incursion, this last war, and the millions dead in the wake of it all. If we
are to survive, we must be strong and united, and, I am sorry to say, fear is the only way to make that happen. Not residual fear of an enemy like the Triumvirate or the First Imperium. Such terrors clearly fade once the threat slips into the background, and people never expect the next nightmare. We have seen that well enough. But an ever-present authority, one with no mercy for corrupt politicians, no pliability to peacetime populations unwilling to maintain defenses once the immediate danger is gone, an iron hand maintaining justice, holding corrupt courts to accountability…that is what humanity needs. At least until it grows up. Jarrod Tyler saw that, and his actions likely saved Columbia.” Darius and his father were alone, sitting on the jetty, just down the coast from the Cain house.

  “A benevolent dictator, Darius? Is history so full of such beasts that you base your assertions on facts, or is this just speculation? I grew up in a slum you can’t imagine, son. That is how most people lived on Earth then. The politicians, the leaders, those with power…they had everything, and the people had nothing. Even if you can maintain your integrity, resist the rot of absolute power, what of your ministers, those on the various worlds, sent to execute your policies? How will you ensure they do not abuse the power you give them?”

  “Fear.” Darius’s tone was so cold, even his father felt the chill. “I will control them with fear. Through human history, governments have used fear to control their citizens. It is high time the bureaucrats, the politicians, those who have for so long served themselves instead of those who live under them, to feel its icy grip. Let them come to know fear, as those they once ruled did. Let them know the consequences for corruption, for abusing the people.”

  “It is a harsh regime you describe, Darius.”

  “What is the alternative? Shall we return to the universe of the mercenary companies, feed once again man’s need to prey on himself? That is what people will do with freedom of action. We have seen it before…and, if we allow it, we will see it again. But this time, civilization hangs by a thread. If we do nothing, if we leave man to his next folly, in a century there will be nothing left but empty worlds, the wind whistling through dead, deserted cities.”