Black Legion: 02 - Assault on Khorram

by Michael G. Thomas

  “I don’t get it, how did this happen so fast? We weren’t in the brig that long?”

  “Stop!” It was an odd shout from further back in the tunnel.

  They spun around to spot their adversaries, but at this distance and with all the smoke, all they could see were dark, armoured shapes. They advanced slowly but methodically towards them.

  “Run!” shouted Xenophon.

  They abandoned the tunnel and rushed out into the open. Marcus moved ahead and waved his hand to point out the evacuation deck. Green and red emergency lighting marked the route. It was disordered chaos as they rushed in the direction he’d pointed out. They almost made it as more dark shapes appeared ahead of them. A volley of shots rattled out, and they were forced to spread out and take cover along the widely spaced side walls. Streaks of fire from pulse weapons ripped passed them, turning the corridor unto a deadly maelstrom of fire.

  “What now?” Tamara shouted. She held her carbine in her right hand and shielded her face with her left. Roxana looked about and spotted the wide open archway that was signed to the observation deck. She nodded with her head in the direction of the door. Xenophon, Glaucon and Marcus were pinned down on the other side of the open space but conveniently closer to the arched entrance.

  “Through the archway!” she shouted, but more gunfire blocked out the sound of her voice.

  A group of stratiotes, the light infantry of the Legion, ran passed them all. They seemed completely disinterested in their small band and made it nearly twenty metres before the massed gunfire tore them to shreds.

  “Why?” screamed Tamara.

  Roxana grabbed her by the arm and braved the pulse rounds to rush across the corridor. Round after round blasted passed them both, but they miraculously made it and ran through the archway. Xenophon watched in awe as they moved through the hail of fire and disappeared. He looked back to Glaucon who just grinned at him.

  “Go!” he cried, and the three men jumped around the corner and followed the two women. The gun battle continued behind them as the survivors of the stratiotes fought for a few more seconds before being silenced by the enemy guns. The archway led to a small open space and three doors. Roxana and Tamara disappeared through the largest door and out of sight. Xenophon chased after them and jumped into the room, his carbine at the ready. Instead of bodies, he found he was in one of the most luxurious parts of the ship. Glaucon and Marcus arrived close behind him.

  “What the hell is this?” asked Glaucon. The room was wide, and many chairs and comfortable seats were arranged to face one side of the room. Roxana had already shut the door behind them and was busy sliding furniture against it to create a further obstacle to the enemy. Marcus placed his hand on a switch and flicked it. With a soft mechanical whirl, the entire side of the room seemed to vanish. It was all an illusion, and the metal of the wall slid away to reveal a thick, transparent skin, much like glass.

  “Wow!” exclaimed Xenophon. He could see scores of spacecraft outside, some in battle formation and others circling their Titan. Large numbers of heavy cruisers of an unrecognised configuration waited as if on parade. Groups of fighters swept passed the Titan, and one blazed away with an energy weapon.

  Animals, they must be chasing down escapees like us, he thought.

  “This is one of the public observation decks. Enjoy the view,” said Marcus.

  Roxana looked less than impressed, however.

  “People, forget the view, we have a major situation here. We need to barricade this place, set up cover and check our weapons.”

  She was ignored for a few more seconds before Xenophon heard more noises outside.

  “Roxana is right.”

  He looked about and did a quick tactical assessment. There was only one way inside the deck and that was through the doorway they had already entered. The doorway itself was wide enough for three people to easily enter at once. They couldn’t be flanked in this position, and that granted them an easily defended location.

  But there is one problem, he thought dismally. We have no way out.

  * * *

  They waited for what seemed like an age before the noise returned. At first, it sounded as though a hostile force was about to smash through the door, but it never came. Just when the sounds of struggle started to fade, a group appeared at the arched doorway, and the sound of a metal fist or tool banged on the door. Tamara nearly spoke, but Xenophon drew his hand over his mouth, indicating for her to keep quiet. The banging continued.

  “We’ve been sent by Xenias to evacuate survivors. I am Dekarchos Julius of the 6th Spatharii. We know you’re in there, open up!”

  Roxana whispered over to Xenophon.

  “What do you think?”

  Xenophon considered both her question and the comments from the soldier. He was taking a chance by answering but also perhaps an equal chance if he didn’t. The man continued speaking.

  “Medes boarding parties are still on the ship. The reactors are already in meltdown, and most of the crew have already left. There are small pockets left that are holding out. Come with us, we have a dromon waiting off the evacuation deck.”

  “We need to go!” cried Tamara, finally breaking their silence. Glaucon grabbed her to stop her saying any more, but it was already too late. Xenophon looked to his group with a look of both dismay and optimism. Another of the loud blasts shook the ship, and Xenophon was thrown to the wall.

  “That’s heavy cutters, we’re surrounded. Open the door or we’re leaving you behind, your choice!” called out the man on the other side of the door.

  Xenophon lifted himself up, moved to the door and started dragging one of the units away from where it blocked access. He glanced back at the others and indicated with his head for them to help. Glaucon came over immediately and helped him move the larger unit. Roxana indicated the position for Marcus and Tamara to move to. Each waited behind cover with their weapons loaded and ready.

  “We’re opening up, now!” called out Xenophon, for a second worrying that they might have already left. The two men pulled the final obstruction out of the way and paused for a brief moment.

  “Ready?” asked Xenophon as quietly as he could manage. Glaucon nodded in agreement and stepped back, his own weapon at the ready. Xenophon reached out, released the lock and pulled the door back in one swift motion. It was a large door that was normally powered. It swung open slowly to reveal darkness and several wisps of smoke. The shape of an armoured man appeared, but he didn’t enter.

  “How many of you are there? Can you walk?” he asked.

  Xenophon sighed inwardly, satisfied, at least for now that these men were not here to harm them. He looked back and spotted the relief on the faces of his comrades before answering the man.

  “Five, all armed and yes, we can move.”

  “Good, stay behind us, and watch for trouble.” And then he was gone.

  Xenophon moved out first, and the others followed closely behind him. He was amazed at the carnage in the corridor outside the observation lounge. Over a dozen Medes bodies lay broken on the floor. He had never actually seen a Medes warrior before and was curious to look at one close up. He stopped, but an armoured hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him forward.

  “Don’t gawk, we ain’t got the time!” snapped back the faceless warrior.

  Good point, he thought.

  There were seven spatharii, and they were fully armoured and carrying carbines. They were standard issue Arcadian weapons, and he recognised the cooling fins and ridges along the barrel and topside as quite clearly their standard weapons. Xenophon pushed ahead so that he reached the middle of the squad. One of the spatharii looked to him in surprise.

  “What happened?” asked Xenophon.

  “Tissaphernes is what happened. He betrayed us. A contingent of his emissaries came aboard after the last jump to arrange the terms of our contract. They weren’t emissaries though.”

  The group reached the evacuation deck but immediately hit trouble. Flashe
s of light off to the left forced them to take cover. One of the spatharii was hit in the chest, but his heavy armour reduced the damage and simply blasted him to the ground. Two of his comrades pulled him to cover and returned fire with their own carbines. Flashes of light moved back and forth between the two sides, with neither appearing to have the advantage. Dekarchos Julius took careful aim and fired a single shot at the huddle of enemy figures. One slumped to the floor.

  “One down,” said the commander quietly to himself.

  “What are we going to do?” asked Glaucon.

  “We have to get to the dromon!” called out Julius. He pointed off to the right and to the dark shape of the armoured dromon that was waiting for them. A small group of fighters were firing away at the enemy. They were secure but no closer to escaping.

  The other warriors returned fire, and it was clear they were no warriors any of them had ever seen before. Unlike the normal Medes troopers, these were something else again. At more than a head taller than a Medes soldier; they were big and heavily armoured. Their bodies were still lithe and athletic, but they were either a special breed of Medes or an entirely different race.

  Xenophon lifted his carbine and aimed down the open sights. The Medes soldiers were well defended behind a damaged dromon engine assembly, and their fire made the open ground to the dromon a killing ground. Due to their size, they were finding it hard to find enough cover to stay completely protected. He aimed high and to the right and squeezed off a round. The carbine kicked into his shoulder, and he was pleased to see one of the soldiers drop down. His elation was short lived though; the soldier lifted himself back up and returned fire.

  “Dammit, are they shielded?”

  One of the spatharii fired a burst and then ducked down to speak with him. He shook his head as he watched more fire hit around the enemy ineffectively.

  “These aren’t normal Medes soldiers. We’ve heard rumours of this unit. They are supposed to be in their thousands and guard the Emperor and his commanders. Apparently, they are an elite unit called Anusiya. I think it means something like ‘Immortals’, and they are from a part of the Empire no Terran has ever visited.”

  “Sound like a pile of horse crap to me,” laughed Glaucon while simultaneously blasting one with his weapon.

  The spatharios looked back to him and grinned. The humour of Glaucon was infectious and did much to calm the nerves of those troops trying to make their way off the doomed ship. He pointed to the Anusiya.

  “I don’t think it is meant to be taken literally. They killed our guards and then set off atomics near our power plant and life support. Any other ship would be dead, but not the Olympia, she can take a beating.”

  A loud roar indicated the arrival of a dromon at the side of the evacuation deck. It moved through the sealed energy shield that protected those inside from the cold vacuum of space and settled down in the middle of the deck. It wasn’t a standard vessel. Xenophon instantly recognised it as the command dromon of Dukas Xenias. It carried thicker armour as well as multiple weapon mounts and turrets. It sat, waiting patiently while its gunners put down heavy suppressing fire on the enemy Anusiya. The side doors opened and out came nearly a dozen bodyguards, wearing full armour and carrying carbines. The first two to jump out carried shield generators. They created a glowing screen in front of the force and protected them from the reduced weapons fire.

  “I knew he wouldn’t leave us to rot,” said Dekarchos Julius. The sense of pride and loyalty in his voice almost made Xenophon feel guilty at their attempts to escape.

  A final figure appeared. It was the massively armoured hulk of the Dukas himself. Xenophon and his comrades had met him only a few times, and he was never more imposing than when stepping on a battlefield. His thick armour and shielded body deflected the enemy weapons fire with a level of contempt that almost made him seem god like. He stepped away from the dromon and checked for survivors. Before Dekarchos Julius’ group could move, another five warriors broke out of their cover and made the dash to the dromon.

  “More survivors, good,” said Julius under his breath.

  The group made the short run across the open space and even though a number of rounds came close, none were hit. Julius looked around at his own force and then back to the dromon.

  “Okay, people, this is it, let’s go, now!”

  He jumped up and fired a long burst from his carbine. The sparks and flashes from the weapon hit all around the enemy who were trapped behind their cover. They made it half way when Glaucon spotted the arrival of more Anusiya warriors. A force of nearly twenty appeared from one of the many side tunnels. They kept running towards the dromon, some firing and others hurling objects. The turret fire from the ship cut down over half, yet they kept coming.

  The first of the spatharii reached the dromon at the same time as the projectiles struck the front of the vessel. They exploded on impact, sending shards of razor sharp metal and burning chemicals around the target area. They ignored the fire and jumped inside and along the other survivors. Roxana was the last to climb aboard. Once inside, the guard unit and Xenias, returned, blazing away at the growing numbers of enemy troops.

  “Strap yourselves in, everyone. This is going to be rough!” shouted the pilot without the benefit of the communication system.

  Dukas Xenias grabbed one of the magnetic clamps and looked about inside the vessel. He spotted Xenophon and his people and shook his head.

  “It seems they are not as trustworthy as I thought,” he said in a conciliatory voice.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Deep Space, Thapsacus Sector

  Another explosion rocked the dromon as the small armada of vessels rushed away from the crippled Titan. A mere two dozen dromons and a single archaic war cruiser were all that remained of the small Arcadian contingent in the Legion. Vendetta was an obsolete cruiser by any standard; even so she was the most substantial vessel in their force. The years had taken their toll, and many of her weapon batteries had been replaced with additional shield generators or storage space for the expedition. Unlike most of the dromons, she had seen service many generations earlier in the wars with the Medes. By all accounts, Vendetta was nothing more than a glorified freighter, but with the benefits of extra armour and a few antiquated weapons.

  She is one tough old bird, thought Xenophon, as he watched the old cruiser fend off attacks by two much smaller Median cruisers. The light energy beams left scorch marks on the cruiser’s thick armour, but the shield generators did their job and absorbed most of the energy.

  “Hold on, they’re making another pass!” shouted the pilot.

  The inertial dampeners took most of the impact, but the harsh directional shift threw them about. Incandescent balls of superheated energy rushed passed then, and at least one dromon was hit twice.

  “We’re lining up to land on the Vendetta, get ready for a quick evac,” he added as a blast of energy destroyed another dromon.

  Dukas Xenias slammed his fist into the communication unit on the wall.

  “This is Dukas Xenias to all ships, jump to the emergency nav beacon, now!”

  The pilot looked back at him, but it was clear there was to be no discussion. Half of the dromons flickered and then vanished as each activated their short-ranged FTL drives. The Vendetta followed them, and the in a sickening lurch so did their own craft. Each of the surviving dromons was packed with crew and warriors from a dozen worlds. All that was left of this part of the fleet remained with the dromons and the cruiser. Only a small number were still trapped on the Olympia. Xenophon watched the massive hulk of the Titian shrink in size in the blink of an eye, and then they were gone. The heavy cutting beams used by the Medes capital ships were left to continue their terrible work on the Titan with the deadly efficiency the Medes were so renowned for.

  “Dukas, we’re at the nav beacon,” said the pilot.

  The virtual nav beacon was simply a location in space that had been predetermined as a rallying point; there was no actual phy
sical beacon. The small number of burnt and damaged dromons swarmed around Vendetta, waiting to unload the surviving troops onto the cruiser. The landing bay was normally designed for the launch and retrieval of a single scout fighter or transport. Now it was being used as an emergency docking point for one craft after another. Two dromons had already been unloaded when the first Median light cruiser arrived. It appeared in a blur, and like the arrival of a thick droplet of water that coalesced into the form of a warship. In seconds, streams of energy flicked at the cruiser, and one beam cut an empty dromon in half.

  “Dukas, we need to dock and fast!” said the pilot.

  He looked down to his view screen and nodded in satisfaction as he spotted a multitude of signal streams being flooded with traffic. He did a quick check and looked over his shoulder to the Dukas.

  “My Lord, Vendetta is jamming her, so it should buy us some time.”

  Xenias nodded and tapped the communications buttons once more.

  “All dromons, speed up the unloading procedure. Vendetta, restart your FTL, we’re going to need to jump immediately.”

  The voice of the capital ship’s commander broke out over the internal speakers.

  “This is Kybernetes Ezekiel Manus, the Kentarchos was killed during the first attack. We have rerouted all weapons power to the FTL and can jump in seven minutes.”

  Another series of explosions ignited off the left side of the cruiser. Fragments of metals and debris struck the hull but incredibly, none penetrated the thick hide. The main weapons batteries didn’t respond, but the small point defence turrets did their best to hold off most of the projectile weapon fire. The shields were now the only defence against the heavy beams.