“Hit me, and then go.”
Tamara looked at him and gave him the biggest grin he’d seen in a long time. She stepped back and slapped him across the face; the impact was loud and heard by everybody there.
“Bastard!” she snapped and stormed out of the room. Xenophon turned to find Glaucon looking right back at him with a massive grin on his face. Roxana shook her head in amusement at the turn of events.
“Shut up, both of you!” retorted Xenophon, but it was useless, they were already laughing along with half a dozen of the others in the room. He moved back to his friends and slumped down next to Glaucon. His friend leaned in and spoke quietly.
“Well played, my friend, I don’t know what your game was, but they bought it.”
He rubbed his face, surprised at the continuing stinging sensation in his cheek.
Damn, she can hit hard!
* * *
Tamara entered the aft storage depot and instantly felt pangs of doubt and worry. She had been keen to do her part, especially as in the last few days she seemed to end up being more of a hindrance than a help to her friends. She wore, as usual, her Legion overalls but with her black leather jacket over the top. It was hardly regulation, but the Legion wasn’t like any other military force. She moved inside to find nearly thirty people, almost all men, and all of them grimy and angry looking. Once through the door, it slid shut with a clang. Her bright blue hair appeared almost dark grey in the low light, and it took several seconds for her eyes to adjust.
“Is that it?” asked an unseen voice at the far end of the room.
The sound of feet moving about threw her off before another spoke. She could now see their shapes and a few faces in the low red lights being used for discretion.
“Looks like it,” said another.
A ding of metal striking metal indicated the start of the meeting. The first man spoke, his voice low and serious. Tamara moved to the right and leaned against one of the dozens of cases, each one presumably containing a number of used power couplings.
“Thank you for coming here. I expected a few more, but this will do.”
He said nothing for a moment, but the red glow increased slightly until the room was lit well enough for her to make out the outlines and shapes of the others there.
“Dukas Xenias is on a suicide mission, and you are here to find out what alternatives we have to offer. We have people in the command staff as well as a number on the destroyers out there,” he said, lifting his right arm and pointing to the wall of the room.
“If we stay on this course, there are very few outcomes that will work well for us. We have a vast distance to travel, hostile forces all around us and what do we have? One ancient cruiser, packed with dead, wounded and infirm. Just one Median cruiser could take us on, right now.”
There was a murmur of discontent from the other side of the room. At least two, perhaps three men started to argue about what the speaker had been saying. A third man managed to prise them apart and turned back to speak to the man running the meeting. Tamara recognised his voice as Ezra, the man that had visited them in their quarters.
“We understand the problem, tell them, and tell them our plan,” he said in a firm, impatient tone.
The speaker paused, possibly for effect or maybe while he gathered his thoughts.
“We have checked our route and the state of supplies and have calculated that this ship, with its standard crew, could make its way back home.”
The room broke out into uproar as the myriad of figures started muttering, shouting, some even flailing about to strike the others. One of the men struck Tamara and she slid to the ground, unsure as to whether it was intentional or not. Ezra called out to the others.
“Stop this nonsense and listen!”
It took almost a minute for them to calm down and even then a few continued muttering in the background.
“If we follow the old slavers’ route, we can make it back to Bissus. It isn’t an easy run, but in two weeks we can be back in Terran territory.”
“Bissus?” asked another.
“Yes,” replied Ezra, “it is one of the old border worlds. From there, we can take transports to any planet or colony.”
A few seemed placated by the destination, but Ezra spoke again.
“There is a price though, and it is a steep one. We would have to move the wounded to the destroyers. We would need the space for extra fuel and supplies.”
Tamara was confused at his suggestion.
“What about those left behind?”
“What about them? If we choose this option, they will have to manage with the four destroyers.”
Tamara was beginning to see what he was getting at, and she didn’t like it. By leaving the wounded behind, they would essentially be abandoning half of those that escaped from the ambushed Titan.
“So we would leave them behind without the fuel, supplies or fit crew to command them? We might as well shoot them ourselves than leave them adrift in space.”
One of the men scoffed at her concerns.
“You think any of them would do the same for you? Trust me, little girl, in the end it comes down to survival. If Xenias won’t turn back, then we will have to make our own arrangements. I don’t know about you, but I like the idea of a warm bed at Bissus.”
Tamara bit her lip, and did her best to say no more. The rest continued their discussion with an emphasis on what exactly they would be doing once reaching the new destination. Their lewd comments seemed almost to encourage a response, but she did her best to remember what Glaucon, Xenophon and Roxana had said to her. The last thing she wanted was to say something stupid when stuck in a dark, secluded room and surrounded by dozens of angry, potentially murderous men. They carried on shouting and arguing, and she simply leaned back and let them continue.
Now I just have to wait, she thought hopefully.
She sighed in frustration and waited.
* * *
Laconian Titan ‘Valediction’, Aronton Sector
The sight that greeted Clearchus and the Legion was one of total confusion. The Aronton Sector should have been quiet, but it was anything but. Around the massive automated station were the scores of Median ships, most of which were now engaged in a bitter duel with the weapons systems of the station. Valediction was the first to arrive, and in a matter of seconds, the heavy cutters of the station were smashing away at the Titan’s thick shielding.
“What the hell has that idiot got into now?” muttered Clearchus.
“It’s one of our replenishment stations, and they are armed to defend themselves against raiders and pirates. It will only fire on unauthorised vessels within range of its weapons.”
In a series of bright flashes, the rest of the fleet arrived and positioned themselves around the Titans. By staying at a sensible distance, the ships were safe and able to observe the ongoing action in relative safety.
“Strategos,” called out one of the science team, “initial scans show the gas giants in this system are viable for refuelling. It’s what we need.”
Clearchus nodded, pleased at the news. He looked about and spotted Jeane Coxand, the Titan’s tactical officer.
“I need the tactical situation, fast!”
She nodded but said nothing, her hands moving quickly over her computer system. Pages of data flew past until with a final push, she moved the information to the main display. It showed the station and the large number of ships stationed around it.
“What do you think?” asked Cyrus.
Kleandridas gave the display a quick glance and looked to Clearchus for permission to speak. As usual he nodded, deferring to the wisdom and experience of his deputy.
“Ariaeus has positioned his ships too close. At that range, the stations defences are easily able to break through his shielding. I suggest a concentrated bombardment with heavy weapons against the station’s primary weapon systems. Once cleared, we can bring in warships to close range to release boarding parties.”
/> Cyrus looked surprised.
“What is the problem?” asked Clearchus.
“Ariaeus has walked into a trap, and it looks like combat drones are defending the interior. You suggest a boarding action into the heart of a site occupied by drones. Have you never faced them before? It is suicide.”
“Drones? They are powerful but dumb. They have to be, or else they might start getting ideas of their own. Why do you think we don’t use them?” he fired back with more than a hint of enjoyment at the Mede’s discomfort.
Cyrus looked at the main display; it appeared something had caught his eye. Clearchus watched but was none the wiser. The tactical officer sent the revised data to the screen and waited for the word. Clearchus appeared satisfied with what he saw and tapped the unit to grant his audio access to all Terran ships in the fleet. He looked to the commander of the Titan, Kentarchos Monsimm.
“All ships are to stay at the allotted distance. Commence bombardment of the station’s defences.”
The Kentarchos nodded and turned to his kybernetes. It was just a few words, but it marked the start of the Terran battle of Aronton, and a battle that would last less than an hour. His announcement was what the officers on the command deck were waiting for. In seconds, the orders from the senior commanders made their way to each ship’s kentarchos and then down to the tactical officers and their gunners. It took less than ten seconds for the first of the guns to open fire.
“Show me,” he said with a calm tone to his voice.
The tactical officer moved most of the data to the right side of the display and brought up a high resolution video feed of the ongoing battle. The beams from many Terran ships were impressive, but it was the firepower from the Titans that dwarfed the actions of any of the other vessels. Even the shielding of the station stood no chance against such incredible power.
“Her primary weapons systems are down, shall we continue against the point defence weapons?” asked Kentarchos Monsimm.
Clearchus watched the destruction of large parts of the station with satisfaction. It was a minor victory but causing damage to Median infrastructure was no great loss to him. After all, the Medes were no friends of the Terrans. The heavy cutters on the Titan were capable of burning through at least six layers of capital ship shielding. He could see the massive puncture wounds went inside the station to a substantial depth. He almost forgot to reply, so enthralled he was by the carnage against the station.
“Take away her weapons, all of them.”
The kentarchos continued issuing orders, and even more firepower rained down from the scores of Terran ships. The Median vessels refused to move from the close orbit of the station and continued to take fire from the closer-ranged weapons. Clearchus walked from his position, and Kleandridas moved to him, waiting for his orders.
“Assemble a boarding party, heavily armed for ship-borne assault. When the guns are silenced, you will take the landing area and provide a stable extraction point for Ariaeus and any of his warriors that are still left.”
Kleandridas grinned at the assignment, and with a firm salute marched off. As he reached the door, a small group of guards peeled off to join him. Clearchus watched him go, a feeling of emptiness drifting about his insides. It was a small matter, but he did miss the wrench of close combat and the thrill of fighting face to face with his enemies. For a brief moment, he considered calling back his deputy, but deep down he knew it was no longer his place to command small actions such as this one. No more than a hundred men would be required for this task; it would be foolhardy to risk the commander of the entire Legion for something so insignificant.
“Strategos, we have something. Six automated scout cruisers have arrived. They carry the same markings as the station and are powering up their weapons.”
Clearchus looked to Cyrus with a mixture of anger and confusion on his face. As far as he was aware, the Medes made use of their vast number to power their war machine. This interest in advanced machine intelligence posed a serious threat to the Terrans. In the past, they had dabbled with the technology, but the most advanced and independent the machines, the more dangerous they became if an enemy was able to turn them on their masters. The Laconians had suffered two major uprisings, and on both occasions their Terran enemies had managed to tap into the command and control systems of their armies, sending them back against the Laconian warriors.
“What is going on here? Since when have your people made use of automated armed forces?”
The Titan shook slightly as a volley of plasma shells hammered into the portside shielding. Kentarchos Broge Monsimm shouted to the crew, encouraging them to keep at the battle. From what Clearchus could see, there was little real danger to the Terrans from these ships. More plasma fire scattered amongst the ships, but according to the tactical display none managed to penetrate the shielding. Cyrus watched with amusement as the one-sided battle continued.
“These are nothing but toys. I heard my brother was investing in these systems at the less important staging posts, trading stations and scout locations.”
“Do you not have the manpower to garrison your own Empire? What if an enemy is able to force them to turn on your own forces?” asked Clearchus.
“Oh, we have more than enough. I think you will find these systems are programmed to repel any but those deemed fit by Artaxerxes. Once we have access to a working friend or foe transmitter, we will be able to shut them down. As for using them instead of Medes warriors, it is more a question of loyalty than one of numbers. By automating the less important, he can keep a close eye on those forces at key locations through the Empire. It is quite sensible if you think about it.”
Clearchus considered his comments but was still dissatisfied at being surprised by their arrival. If made him wonder how it might change their campaign.
“So this is his way of concentrating military forces at certain points in the Empire? I don’t like it. By doing this, he can maintain larger forces and respond more quickly. Are you sure this isn’t a response to our little operation?”
Cyrus laughed at the suggestion.
“If my brother used these machines at every starbase and station in the Empire, his Median fleet would still outnumber them by a hundred to one. As I said, they are a toy for the less important locations. This is good news for us. It tells us we have selected a route to the Core Worlds that he deems unlikely to be travelled by hostile forces. It is only a handful, and my brother would never use them in large numbers, just in case somebody could turn them against him.”
Clearchus looked back to the main screen and watched the volleys of energy beams and plasma rounds flashing back and forth. They might only be machines, but they were certainly putting up a good fight. He thought back to the stories of the machines and the great siege of Laconia nearly two hundred years earlier.
What if we can find a way to do the same as they did to us? A division of robotic ships with no supply requirements could be a major asset in the coming battle, he considered. Plus it would give me another weapon in this constant struggle for supremacy with that bastard, Ariaeus.
CHAPTER FIVE
Vendetta, Su’bartu Maelstrom
The corridor was dark, slightly damp and filled with containers and abandoned pieces of equipment. In this respect, it was similar to almost any other part of the ship. Smears of grease and oil ran along the floor, and at one end lay a large pool of mixed oil that had leaked from a broken drum. Somebody had covered it with rags, but they had been kicked away, helping to spread the muck and filth through the cramped space. It had been an hour now and still there was no sign of Tamara. Xenophon moved as quietly as he could, desperate to relieve the cramp in his right leg. Glaucon leaned against the wall, doing his best to look innocent, but to Xenophon he looked more like a guard. Roxana had stayed back so she could keep an eye on the main thoroughfare, just in case anybody of note turned up to cause trouble.
“I don’t like this, why is it taking so long?” whispered Glaucon from his
position.
Xenophon shrugged and lowered his voice as best as he could.
“She’s a strong one. If there’s trouble, I’m sure we would hear something.”
Glaucon nodded at that, if anything she was a little too capable of looking after herself. Beneath her small frame and bright blue hair she was violent, sometimes aggressive and fast. In fact, the more Xenophon thought about what he had said, the more he worried she might get herself into a violent confrontation. A clunk around the corner and near the area where the meeting took place caught their attention. Glaucon looked back to him and nudged his forehead towards the direction of the sound. Xenophon nodded back and strained to listen.
“Someone’s coming!” said a concerned Glaucon. He leaned back to the wall and tried to look as nonchalant as a man of his size could. Footsteps became louder, followed by more noise from other people. Xenophon felt a mixture of worry and relief at the turn of events; the meeting must be over.
A man appeared at the end of the corridor. He wore military fatigues and looked nervous as he continued past Glaucon and off into the darkness. Another two appeared, the men whispered as they also passed by. Xenophon did his best to not move and managed to escape being noticed as they disappeared. More footsteps and then the form of a shorter, feminine figure appeared. In the dull light it wasn’t easy to tell, but when she moved to Glaucon and gently thumped him it was clear.
“Hey you!” she said nervously.
Glaucon grabbed her arm, pulled her away and then moved along the corridor. They passed Xenophon and took a sharp left towards one of the main intersections. Xenophon stayed in cover of darkness and waited, looking for signs of anybody that might follow her. It looked safe until he spotted movement. The person moved with stillness and precision Xenophon hadn’t seen outside of the best dance schools. It was a woman and she wore dark clothes, tight fitting that revealed no discernible sound. She moved to where Glaucon had stood, barely five metres from Xenophon and then stopped. She examined the hall, and for the briefest of moments, he was convinced she had spotted him. The shadows between the two crates seemed to vanish as he waited. Incredibly, she looked away and continued moving along the corridor. It took nearly half a minute for her to complete the journey along its entire length before finally turning off at the end.
Black Legion: 02 - Assault on Khorram Page 9