Black Legion: 02 - Assault on Khorram

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Black Legion: 02 - Assault on Khorram Page 10

by Michael G. Thomas


  Who is that, and why is she following Tamara?

  Once he was satisfied there was nobody else in the corridor, he pulled himself out from the shadow. As he moved, his back creaked, and he was forced to move slowly as the cramp in his body slowly vanished. He didn’t have time to waste and followed in the same direction as the mysterious woman. He moved quickly until reaching the end of the corridor and the T-junction. He stopped and glanced backwards, checking for signs that he was being followed, but it looked clear. He turned back and gasped.

  “Why are you following me?” demanded the mysterious woman.

  She blocked his path and stood less than a metre away. At this distance, he could see the close-fitting clothing and the hood that covered most of her head. A flicker of light from the dim lamps at the end of the corridor gave just a hint of her face and the whites of her eyes. He felt something touching his stomach and glanced down. He gasped at spotting a black blade, long and thin, pushed up to his body.

  “I asked you a question. Who are you, and what do you want?” she demanded, and this time her tone changing to one of irritation. He thought about lying, but what was the point? It would be easy to find out who he was, and a lie could easily end with his death.

  “Xenophon...” he spluttered, “Dekarchos of the Night Blades.”

  He spotted the flash of a smile on her face at the mention of the unit’s unofficial name. He considered grabbing the weapon, but she was clearly no amateur. He needed to play this carefully.

  “You are following a friend of mine.”

  She tilted her head as if intrigued by his comments.

  “The blue-haired girl?”

  “Yes, she is part of my unit,” he added.

  “Then you are aware she is colluding with traitors? You know the penalty, do you not?”

  Xenophon pulled back, lowering his hands in a passive manner. The woman stayed where she was but kept the blade out in front of her, pointing it at him. With the change of angle, he could now make out her face more clearly.

  “You’re a Medes agent!” he snapped back, now realising how she had moved so quietly. “What are you doing on this ship?”

  She reached forward, grabbed his shoulder and threw him to the wall. She moved up closer and pushed him front first against the bulkhead. He tried to struggle, but the sight of the black blade appearing next to his eye forced him to be still.

  “My purpose here is none of your business. Tell me, what was the meaning of this meeting? How is your friend involved?”

  The knife was just a short distance from his eye now. It was dangerous, but the one good thing was that he could see it. He waited until she opened her mouth again to speak and then struck. He started with a simple elbow strike to her chest that knocked her back a short distance. Xenophon then ducked down to avoid an obvious counter stab and punched to her face. Even when surprised, the agility and grace of the woman was incredible. She managed to twist back and away from his fist.

  Who are you?

  He caught something in his peripheral vision, but before he could respond, it was over. His vision turned to darkness, and the last thing he felt was a numb pain to his forehead. He fell to the ground, a lifeless shape in the blackness of the corridor.

  * * *

  Glaucon checked one last time and bundled Tamara into the small storage room near the rumbling of the air circulation system. He was sure he could hear a patrol moving towards them. As they waited, a group of four men went past. They were not the usual crew. These were from one of the transports that had been lost in the ambush. They had removed their uniforms and were carrying improvised weapons. This was one of the least desirable parts of the ship, and an area usually only visited by engineers or security patrols. The only clue they had found so far was one of the crew who said he’d seen a couple heading into this part of the ship. According to the engineer, he had remembered the two because it seemed a slender woman was carrying the other, and it had surprised him. But not enough it would seem to actually tell anybody.

  “Where is he? How could somebody drag him down here without being stopped?” asked Tamara.

  “I don’t know, maybe he was drugged? There are some pretty unsavoury types here, you know.”

  He lifted his finger to his mouth; the sound of somebody approaching forced them to keep still. The noise came closer until it was almost upon them. Glaucon leapt out and pinned the helpless person to the wall. It was Roxana.

  “Hey, too close, Glaucon!” she yelped.

  Glaucon relaxed and moved back, nodding in compliance.

  “Any luck?” he asked.

  Roxana shook her head and leaned back against the wall. She exhaled slowly.

  “I’ve tried every section in this part of the ship. The only sign he was even here are the marks on the floor where we were waiting for Tamara.”

  “You think somebody is holding him, ransom maybe?”

  “Could be, but there’s another possibility.”

  Glaucon gave her a look that was part confused and part nervous.

  “Which is?”

  “Bounty hunters, the two of you are wanted men still, aren’t you, back on Attica?”

  Glaucon gave it some thought. It wasn’t likely, but there was a chance, even a minor one, that somebody had managed to infiltrate the Legion with the express aim of taking the two of them back. What if it was assassination, though? He exhaled nervously as he thought about it.

  “What?” she asked.

  “It could be an assassination.”

  “True, that’s more likely than sending somebody all this way. How would they get back, otherwise?”

  They waited and considered their situation for a little longer, and Tamara spoke up. She kept her voice low, but the concern in her voice was genuine.

  “If they have him, then we need to speak to the Dukas.”

  Glaucon looked at her and back to Roxana.

  “She’s right you know? Xenias has the manpower and the authority to do whatever he wants on this cruiser. Let’s get there and fast, time could be critical.”

  Both Roxana and Tamara nodded in agreement. Glaucon left the safety of their hiding place and moved out first. It was only a short journey back to the main access corridor. It took nearly ten minutes for them to make it, and not helped by the spatharii patrol that was busy grappling with thugs from one of the other ships. Once they reached the corridor, they mingled with the crowds of warriors and crew. The lighting was better there, and everybody seemed to have something to do. Glaucon stopped and turned to the other two.

  “Do you know how to get to the command deck from here?”

  “Of course, all cruisers of this era follow the same basic format. Follow me!” said Roxana with almost a laugh to her voice. She moved off down the corridor and took an immediate right turn into one of the main access shafts. Unlike civilian ships, this one was designed to operate with various degrees of damage. Using an elevator on board a ship of war was a risky business due to failure and also the space it wasted. Several wide ladders led to the floor above and below the current level.

  “Are you sure about this?” asked Glaucon with a tone of surprise at finding something as archaic as a ladder.

  “Follow me,” replied Roxana in a matter-of-fact voice.

  She pulled herself onto the ladder and started the low climb up to the next level. As they climbed, Glaucon continued to question her.

  “You’re telling me this is how the Dukas would get to the command deck?”

  She climbed up further.

  “No, this is a shortcut up through the engineering decks. This is a more direct route. You know what these ships are like. There are only a small number of elevator shafts at key areas.”

  Tamara nearly laughed at their discussion.

  “Let me guess, this isn’t one of them?”

  They continued another few metres until reaching the level. Signs on the walls indicated the direction of the subsection. Roxana ignored them and moved off towards
a series of oval doors, each sealed with mechanical locks. It was simple, but very effective in this day of advanced computers and communication technology. The last thing anybody wanted in space was a ship that could be controlled or modified by the enemy. They entered the narrow corridor, and Roxana pulled the door shut behind her. It was cramped inside, with thick bulkhead ridges running along its length and a continuous rumble through the walls.

  “Where are we now?” asked Glaucon.

  Roxana moved off ahead and ran her hands along the thick metal to her right as she moved.

  “These are the cooling chambers for the forward guns. In battle, this corridor would be double the current temperature. It gets pretty stuffy down here, so come on, we don’t want to linger.”

  Glaucon kept his hands well away from the pipes and trailed close behind. It didn’t take them long to reach the next sealed door. Glaucon helped her with this one; it was substantially stiffer than the first and took great effort to unseal. Glaucon moved out first and was surprised to find himself in the forward engineering section. Nearly twenty crewmen were busily working on the equipment, and only one even noticed him in there.

  “What are you doing here?” he called out.

  Tamara and Roxana appeared behind him and forced the door shut. Glaucon turned back to them and called out in an urgent tone.

  “Move it, now!”

  Tamara didn’t even consider his words; she ducked low and rushed for the open door leading into a well lit corridor. One of the crewmen, a burly looking man that wore a primitive looking breastplate woke up from his boredom and blocked their path. Tamara crashed into him, but his bulk stopped her in her tracks. She stumbled and fell to the right only to be caught by Roxana who followed close behind. Glaucon, on the other hand, had no difficulty and shoulder barged the man to the wall.

  “Quickly!” he spat out, using all of his strength to hold back the man.

  As soon as the two women were through, he smashed his head into the man’s nose, and a spray of blood sprayed over the two men. In the confusion, he chased after the others. They had made surprisingly good progress and were already into the next corridor before the other crew had realised what was happening. Two sets of medics were busy moving wounded crew, so they were able to duck and weave their way through the groups of people until eventually reaching the main hub that connected four difference parts of the ship.

  A woman, one of the stratiotes from the Cilicia operation, saw them and drew her sidearm, aiming it at their pursuers. Tamara spun around to see them taking cover and aiming their own weapons towards the isolated woman.

  “No, we just have to see the Dukas, don’t shoot!” she cried.

  Without waiting to see what happened, they rounded the final corner to find an open space leading to the command deck. Two more guards tried to block their passage, but they were too slow. Glaucon threw the first against the wall while Tamara jumped up and slammed her elbow into the second man’s face. They stumbled inside, only to find themselves face to face with their commander.

  “What’s going on?” barked the Dukas.

  Komes Pasion was stood just a few metres from him and already had a handgun drawn and pointed directly at Glaucon’s face. Next to him was Komes Andronicus, but he simply placed his hand on his hip, waiting but not drawing his weapon. The pursuers chased inside and grabbed the three intruders. The Dukas stepped closer and repeated his question.

  “Dukas, there’s something...” started Glaucon, but one of the guards pulled him down to his knees and interrupted him.

  “We found them sneaking through the engineering section,” explained the man as he did his best to keep Glaucon down. He was nowhere near strong enough, and the tough Attican put pressure on his legs, forcing himself back up.

  “Let him speak!” barked the Dukas, now starting to become irritated at the lack of information coming his way. Roxana shook off her assailant and turned to face the next two who seemed to be holding onto Tamara a little harder than required. The teenager stamped the nearest on the foot with her heel and backed away towards Roxana. Glaucon nearly smiled at the ruckus, but the look from the Dukas told him that he needed to explain, and fast.

  “Dukas Xenias, we have discovered a conspiracy on this ship. There are some here planning on...”

  “Drop it!” snapped Komes Andronicus. He levelled his pistol at the temple of Komes Pasion. Both men were of similar build and wearing identical uniforms as members of the Arcadian contingent. Komes Pasion glanced towards him without turning his head.

  “What is this madness? Have you lost your mind?” he roared.

  Behind him a number of the command staff drew their own weapons and forced the others to move to the side of command deck. Dukas Xenias watched in disbelief as his closest advisors and most of the officers of the ship were moved away. He noted those that carried the weapons were mainly men from Andronicus’ unit of spatharii.

  “You traitorous dog, what are you up to?” he demanded.

  Komes Pasion refused to moved, even when Andronicus pushed the muzzle hard to his head. Xenias did the same, and he was the single individual on the deck the mutineers were nervous of approaching.

  “Dukas, join the others, you can all take a visit to the brig. We have need of this ship. Soon we...”

  Komes Pasion swung his arm up to knock the weapon aside, but it was too slow. No sooner did he reach the gun before it blasted. At this range, the round tore through his temple and sprayed blood and bone over Xenias and two of the crew. Whether intentional or not, it signalled the start to a bloody but ultimately one-sided firefight. The other men from Andronicus’ unit opened fire on the crew, killing the five and wounding both Kybernetes Manus and the Dukas. Glaucon dropped to the floor and dragged the wounded commander behind the safety of one of the computer systems. More gunshots continued as the surprised crew drew their own weapons. Two bodies slumped to the ground, yet the bloodbath carried on. Roxana and Tamara helped him start moving the wounded man to the doorway. They almost made it until Komes Andronicus stepped out and blocked the gap.

  “Stop!” he cried.

  Just a handful more gunshots were fired and the command deck was silenced. The only sound was the cries of the wounded, and those trying to console them. Xenias attempted to stand, but a wound on his lower leg forced him back down. Glaucon helped him, and with effort they stood to view the carnage. What had been a bustling centre of an overpopulated ship was now a slaughterhouse. Bodies slumped over computer systems or on the floor. Komes Andronicus waited in the doorway, a glob of thick blood staining his shoulder.

  “None of this needed to happen, none of it,” he complained, but it was obvious he was trying to justify the terrible crime he had just committed. Another group of men appeared at the door and entered the command deck. For a second, it looked like they might be there to help, but the first two moved in and grabbed the Dukas.

  “Take them to the brig, and spread the word to the others. It is time to set course for the promised land!” he said, almost with a laugh to his voice.

  More men came inside and grabbed Glaucon, Tamara, Roxana and the dozen survivors of the crew. As they were moved from the room, Glaucon looked back. Blood covered many of the computer displays, and at least one system sparked and flashed from the damage sustained in the short but violent battle. Broken glass and metal was strewn across the floor. The worst of all though was the bloody mess near the body of Komes Pasion, the renowned and loved Arcadian officer. He reached out and grabbed the arm of Andronicus.

  “Where are you taking the ship?” he demanded.

  Andronicus pulled his hand off, indicating for the men to remove him. He called out after the prisoners.

  “We’re going back home, to the Olympia!” he laughed.

  The brutish men from Andronicus’ unit marched the prisoners and the wounded along the corridor. A small number of confused crew arrived, but the sight of the bloodied Dukas being dragged cowed them into inaction. It didn’t take lo
ng for them to be pulled into the nearest storeroom now being used by the mutineers as a temporary brig. Without even checking their injuries, they slammed the door shut, leaving just a slit of light to fill the space.

  “Olympia? Why are they going back? The ship is gone,” said Roxana in confusion.

  “Don’t be so sure,” answered the Dukas. He groaned in pain but incredibly was still conscious. Glaucon helped him to a small filing cabinet and rested him there. Roxana ran her hands over the man’s body, near to where the wounds were.

  “How many times were you hit?” she asked.

  Xenias groaned as she pushed down on the obvious wound.

  “Just the one you’re pushing down on,” he muttered. “I was lucky.”

  “Tamara, come here. Put your hand here,” she ordered, pushing the young woman’s hand down onto a piece of her overalls that she’d placed over the wound. Tamara pressed down, but Roxana pushed her hand down even harder.

  “You have to keep the pressure on, got it?”

  Kybernetes Manus lifted himself up so that he could see through the gap in the door. He was also injured, but either he was very good at hiding the pain, or it was less serious than the bloody wound sustained by the Dukas. He watched for a few seconds before speaking.

  “I don’t know this Andronicus very well. Didn’t he and Komes Pasion stay with the rearguard to set the fusion charges?”

  “What?” replied Roxana, confused at the mention of the weapons.

  “He’s right. The two were responsible for setting the fusion atomics to blow after we jumped. Pasion commanded the rearguard, Andronicus himself set the charges though,” explained Xenias with a tone of dread to his voice.

 

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