“Our turn, Dukas, we’re going in!” called out the pilot.
With great skills, he spun the dromon through the wreckage of two other vessels and landed in the small landing bay. As soon as the doors opened, a number of crew helped drag the wounded from their craft and pulled them to safety. In less than thirty seconds, the craft was unloaded and relaunched into an automatic holding pattern. Tamara watched as it circled away, crewless and aimless.
“What will happen to her?” she asked wistfully.
Glaucon looked at Tamara and to the dromon. It managed to reach three hundred metres before a dark blue energy beam cut through its middle.
“There’s your answer. Come on, we need to get inside,” he said, and they chased after the Dukas. The rest of the crew and spatharii did the same, and soon they were inside the heart of the ship and its many corridors and passages. The first thing Xenophon noticed was the wounded. He spotted dozens of burn victims and a number with hideous injuries to their faces and arms. The group kept moving until they reached the command deck.
Dukas Xenias was already speaking with the Acting Kentarchos, a young, haggard-looking man. He had a bandage across his right shoulder and several smudges of blood on his chest.
“Komes Pasion is on board as well as some of his men. There are two more dromons left to dock, and then we are clear.”
“Two?” snapped back Xenias, unable to believe it was such a small number.
“Yes, Dukas, we have managed to save a little over four hundred of the crew and seven hundred and twelve troops from the Olympia.”
Xenias was stunned and said nothing for a few seconds. Dekarchos Julius approached the commander of the cruiser with a similar look of disbelief on his face.
“Only eleven hundred out of a complement of nearly five thousand warriors and a thousand crew?”
Xenias lifted his hand and rubbed his chin as he considered their situation. He had suffered a major blow, and the loss of so many friends and countrymen must have rankled.
“More ships are coming through!” called out an unseen tactical officer.
The ship was old and lacked the advance command and control systems used in modern vessels. It featured just one main view screen that filled most of one side of the deck. Hundreds of years ago, this was the way all capital ships had been modelled. All it showed now was the age and obsolescence of the Vendetta. The cruiser shook as they took more impacts from the heavy weapons of the Median ship.
“Two minutes till we can jump!” called out the Acting Kentarchos.
On the display, the shape of the Median light cruiser looked menacing and fearsome. Unlike the Terrans, the Medes were more interested in aesthetics and numbers than military prowess. Many worlds had yielded to their might simply because a thousand ships had arrived in orbit and demanded thus. In recent history, only the combined might of all the Terrans had been able to hold back the deluge that was a combined Median fleet. In theory, the older Terran cruiser should be able to match the more modern ship in a one on one duel. But the problem was one of time. Every minute they stayed there was another minute that could let the rest of the enemy fleet know where they were.
“Look!” cried Roxana in surprise as the shapes of newly arrived ships materialised around the two cruisers. It was four hydra class destroyers, the ship class that Xenophon and Roxana had served on before the fall of the Alliance. Xenias smiled at the sight of the friendly ships.
“Good,” he said with a stoic nod, “perhaps all is not lost.”
They took up position between Vendetta and her attacker, and then turned their guns on the enemy ship. It was a devastating volley of firepower, and in less than a minute, the burnt and damaged shape of the Media cruiser began its limping retreat from the battle. Hot on its heels were two of the destroyers. The small ships kept up a light but withering fire of heavy energy weapons. The other two took up station around Vendetta to provide security while the last few survivors transferred to the cruiser. Two of Xenias’ security guards approached and spoke quietly before moving away to a discreet distance.
“I am moving my flag here for the time being. Finish the loading of the survivors, and pass the rendezvous co-ordinates to the rest of the...well, to the rest of the fleet.”
The Kentarchos nodded and looked back to the rest of his crew. Xenias stood alongside, Xenophon and a small group of those that had travelled back with them to the cruiser. Two more dekarchos arrived from other units on the ship and waited for their orders. The Dukas signalled for the auletes to give him access to the ship’s communications system. It took just a few seconds to patch him through to the ship and the newly arrived destroyers.
“This is Dukas Xenias, commander of Olympia and the Arcadian detachment. Take this message to all your officers and crew, and get them ready. It is my intention for us to rejoin the Legion as quickly as possible. This betrayal by Tissaphernes must be answered and trust me, it will be.”
He paused and took a breath, but to Xenophon it looked like he was trying to make a decision, and it seemed to trouble him.
“For now, we need the protection of the Legion and the Titans. We cannot allow this aggression against Terrans to go unpunished. I have suspicions about Cyrus and certainly all Medes. As of now, we will not trust a word that ever leaves their mouths. There is even a chance Cyrus is leading Clearchus into a trap that will strip the finest of all Terran warriors to their deaths.”
He stopped and looked about the old and worn interior of the cruiser. Vendetta was certainly far from the best ships he had seen, but she was solid, dependable and his home. He almost smiled at the sight of the crew moving about at their stations, and the sound of communications gear in use. It reminded him of Olympia.
Komes Pasion and Komes Andronicus entered the command deck. They were both in charge of sizable contingents in the Arcadian force and looked as if they had encountered heavy fighting. Dukas Xenias stopped and looked at them. He lowered the microphone so he could speak privately.
“Were you successful?” he asked.
Both men nodded.
“Good, it is an unfortunate thing but a necessary one.”
He then lifted the microphone and continued speaking with the crew of the ships.
“The Olympia was a good ship. No, she was a great ship and the pride of the Arcadian military machine. She will not fall into the hands of the enemy, and in her death throes she will make the Medes suffer. Prepare yourselves for a long march, we will find our comrades and finish our mission.”
He looked at the motley collection of crew, stratiotes and spatharii from multiple units and ships. Most were from the Titan but a small percentage hailed from the small number of escorts that had been unable to escape the ambush. He glanced at each of them before coming to Xenophon, Glaucon, Tamara and Roxana. It was to Tamara that he stopped near first. It was probably her blue hair that caught his eye, and for a second Xenophon regretted having even met her. In the commotion of the battle on the Titan, he had recognised her but been unable to give her or the others any more thought.
“You, we fought together at Cilicia, did we not?” he asked.
She nodded and tried to lower her head to avoid attention. He moved along and smiled when he spotted the others of her little group.
“Ah yes, the escapees from the Night Blades, it would appear our paths have crossed again. You were right, of course, the Legion is home and the only organisation we can trust in hostile space such as this. As of now, you are all reinstated into the Legion. I will be restructuring our detachment due to losses of both personnel and equipment.”
“What about our agreement with the Empire, with the Emperor?” asked one of his junior commanders.
Dukas Xenias snorted in derision, and the very mention of the hated man’s name seemed to twist and contort the commander’s face.
“Agreement? That was torn up the minute Tissaphernes the traitor attacked us under a flag of truce,” he spat out.
Komes Pasion looked at th
e gathered officers and stared at Xenophon and his group in particular. He had evidently not forgotten about their little incident on the Titan prior to the attack. He stepped nearer to Xenophon, and Glaucon moved a little closer; his body tightening up and expecting a fight. Instead the Komes smiled, confusing them both.
“I harbour no hard feelings at your escape attempt. It is not like you were trying to escape battle. As it happens, your wish will be answered.”
He turned back to the Dukas, but one of the crew spoke to him.
“All passengers are aboard, and the escorting ships report they are charged and ready to jump.”
Dukas Xenias nodded in agreement.
“Good, give them the fractal codes and start the clock. We jump in sixty seconds.”
He looked about the ship, noting the number of wounded and those in great pain. It was a defeat, but not all was lost. What did concern him was the distance. Though he hadn’t spoken of it with the others, he was aware they would need multiple refuelling stops if they were to make the long trip to chase after the Legion.
Assuming they are still on the same course and haven’t altered their speed, he thought ruefully.
* * *
Laconian Titan ‘Valediction’, Su’bartu Maelstrom
The mighty warship shuddered once more as it ploughed through a cloud of dust. Most small craft or ships would sustain damage in such a place, but the thick armour and powerful shielding of the Titan kept it safe from foreign bodies. The Armada had entered the Maelstrom and it was living up to its name. It was a vast and dangerous region of space situated between the fertile border worlds and the rich inner systems. Survey ships and drones had tried to map the great collection of shipping obstructions, gases and nebula in the area, but as the years moved on, so did the shape of the Maelstrom. The famous navigator Randy Artis from Psidia had established a series of safe shipping lanes through the most dangerous parts of the Maelstrom. These Artis route lanes were like super highways connecting gas giants and space stations together. They were carefully calculated so that large ships could refuel and complete long journeys through these dangerous parts of space.
Strategos Clearchus stood in his customary position in the centre of the command deck. His personal guards were close, as was one of his two deputies, Kleandridas, who was busy checking the scans of the nearby system by one of the senior dekarchos. He finished examining the details and looked up to his commander.
“I don’t like this, Strategos, not one bit. According to the Artis routes, we should be able to refuel the fleet at the Leonis 9713 star system.”
“That’s right, so what’s the problem?” asked an irritable Clearchus.
“Well, it’s pretty simple Strategos, it isn’t there anymore. Spectral scans indicate the star went supernova three years ago. The three gas giants were obliterated.”
He stretched out his arms and pointed at the view around them of dust and debris.
“This is it, no gas giants and no fuel for the fleet.”
Clearchus took the small tablet-like device and examined the data himself. The images and scans were clear, as were the Artis routes on the navigation plan they had set out.
“This is correct?”
His deputy nodded but said nothing more. Kleandridas was correct, of course, but with such a significant problem, the Strategos needed to see the numbers for himself. They were stood on the command deck, the heart of the Titan and of the fleet. It was wide and large enough to house a hundred officers. Many of them were scanning everything within a parsec for raw materials the fleet could use. Banks of displays ran in columns, each attached to the ribbed inner skin of the ship. The light from the displays gave a bright shimmer to the command deck that was unlike any other part of the ship. It was the large-scale virtual observation system that really stood out. The entire inner surface of the deck was controlled at a molecular level to give it the characteristics of a flawless three-dimensional video display. Standing on the deck was like flying through space, and with the full ability to see outside of the ship, past the armour and into space itself.
“I never wanted to take these routes, but if we travel around the Maelstrom, we’ll be forced to extend our journey by four or five times.”
Kleandridas nodded in agreement and pointed to the starmap on the device.
“We’d also have to extend our time travelling through the border systems. The more time we spend there, the better chance the enemy will have of finding us and establishing our intent. We have to arrive in the Core Systems with the element of surprise on our side.”
He moved the display on the device to show a map of the main star systems. The Core Worlds were a great cluster of hundreds of star systems that themselves contained scores of populated worlds. He enlarged the view so that it focused down on the capital planet and star systems within a short distance.
“We need to arrive here and in force. Even with our combined Median and Terran fleet, we could still find double or even triple the enemy numbers upon our arrival.”
Clearchus looked surprised.
“You don’t think they already know we are coming? Artaxerxes is no fool. Don’t forget the information we have on him in our databanks. Cyrus was his mother’s favourite to become Emperor, and still he ended up exiled and thrown to the borders.”
Kleandridas nodded slowly in agreement. The information he had seen concerning Cyrus, the rest of his family and the constant intrigue between them, quite frankly irked him. It wasn’t as though the Arcadians were perfect, but this level of interfamilial bickering and bloodletting left him feeling sick inside. He shook his head and looked back to Clearchus.
“Well, only Tissaphernes knows we have travelled passed his territories, but he knows nothing of our mission. Neither Artaxerxes or any of the other satraps even know we passed the Cilician Gates.”
He stepped towards the nearest computer system and displayed the area of space between the Cilician Gates and the heart of the Median Empire. It was a fast gulf of more than a kiloparsec; an absolutely massive distance that would require over a hundred jumps. He pointed at each of the major Median starbases and naval commands, and a green line followed his finger as it snaked through the Empire. The route carefully avoided the major Median sites until making it to the edge of the Core Worlds.
“Surely, if we are careful and avoid any major Median settlements, we can make it through to the outlying worlds. At least this way, Artaxerxes won’t be able to call in his border commanders in time to help his fleet.”
“That is true, but with nearly Ten Thousand mercenaries, and double that number of Medes under Ariaeus, we have a lot of eyes and a great deal of mouths in this fleet. I can guarantee that at least one has talked already. If they’ve talked, Artaxerxes will already know.”
Kleandridas scratched his cheek as he considered the comments by Clearchus.
“If he knows, then he will be calling in his major warships and assembling his Royal ground forces. He has to strike hard and fast before they can mobilise.”
Clearchus nodded again in complete agreement.
“Yes, I have no doubt about the skill and expertise of our own forces, but even Terrans can only kill so many. We do not want to end up trapped in hostile territory with just our fleet to protect us. It will be a long and dangerous return journey if we are unable to achieve our objectives.”
He thought of the Medes representatives he had encountered so far on this campaign. Lord Cyrus appeared honourable, and more importantly, had treated the officers and men of the mission with respect. He had kept the target secret, but that secretive trait was one common with all the Medes he had met. Tissaphernes was a plotter and a schemer. He had no doubts the man would turn on his own family if it might better his position. Then there was Ariaeus, the next most significant figure and a man with the ear of Cyrus himself. Even Clearchus had seen very little of this powerful and shadowy figure.
“What do we know of Ariaeus? Lord Cyrus says he is his most trusted
assistant, but does that mean we can trust him on this operation? My files show he has a long and colourful career, including quite a few entanglements with at least a dozen Terran colonies.”
Kleandridas brought up a detailed profile of Ariaeus, the second most senior Median commander in the Legion. Clearchus had only met him a few times, and the dislike they had for each other was obvious and unguarded. He snarled at the face, remembering the last time they had spoken. Clearchus watched him and remembered that his deputy and close friend had a painful secret; one only Clearchus and a few other high-ranking Arcadians knew of. He sighed, angry at himself for forgetting.
“I’m sorry, your family has had dealing with some of Ariaeus’ people. I know it can’t be easy for you to work with him or his force,” he said, doing his best to be as sensitive about the issue as he could.
It was true and a cause of great resentment to the high-ranking Terran officer. An infiltration team under the orders of Ariaeus had managed to start a revolution on one of the smaller Plataean moons, two decades earlier. It seems it was part of a plan to try and wrest the minor colonies of the smaller Terran factions away from the Laconian League, upon whom they were dependent. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, and it wouldn’t be the last. The Terrans were notorious for their infighting and mistrust of each other, and a weakness that was often exploited by enemies such as the Medes. The Mining Revolution, as it was known, had personal significance to Kleandridas, however. The Medes agents helped instigate a workers’ strike that quickly turned violent. Many citizens and workers had been killed while fighting government forces and atrocities had been committed on both sides. When the fighting was over, over nine hundred people had lost their lives, including both of Kleandridas’ parents. The involvement of Ariaeus was only found out years later.
“Strategos, I have Topoteretes Pleistoanax on the link. He wishes to speak with you,” said the ship’s auletes.
Black Legion: 02 - Assault on Khorram Page 6