“We’re too far away to use them though, aren’t we?” asked Jack.
Xenophon indicated for them to look at the wall. Flickers of light ran along the to from the muzzles of the dozens of weapons still blasting away at the Night Blades. His voice sounded almost calm through their communications gear as he explained his plan to them.
“The grenades, they could be useful, but not yet. Okay, here’s my plan. We will move when the next fighter attack starts. Jack and Tamara move to the front and carry the shield generators. The rest of the group will follow them closely behind, so the shields protect us. We rush the open ground to the wall, and I’ll do the rest.”
Glaucon lifted the plasma cannon and slid in a new magazine. The neon-blue ready light blinked along its side. He looked down to the weapons and equipment they had scavenged.
“I don’t understand. Those grenades won’t do much, even at that range.”
Dekarchos Maxentius placed his hand on Glaucon’s shoulder.
“It’s okay, I think I have an idea about his plan, let’s do this.”
They stayed low and watched the wall, waiting for the moment. The spatharii that had landed earlier were making slow progress, but at a distance of fifty metres, they had been halted by concentrated rocket fire. Not even the shields could protect them completely from such a continuous bombardment. They split into several small groups and joined the Night Blades amongst the rocks and cover. Xenophon looked up at the fortified Citadel. It was clear that on the planet this single structure was the most important location, possibly even the most populated. The short briefing on the flight down had explained that Cappadocia was hit frequently by heavy dust storms, rendering much of the planet uninhabitable on the surface. The fortress was built around a formation of five peaks that provided a natural defence against the elements.
“Here they come!” called out Jack.
Behind them, the two fighters were moving in for another strafing run.
“Now!” shouted Xenophon.
The six warriors jumped down from their position with Jack and Tamara at the front. The shield generators were heavy, but between them they were able to keep moving forward with the shimmering shields in front. As the rest of the group huddled in close, they gave the impression of an ancient mantlet being pushed up to a castle wall. Pulse fire bounced harmlessly from them as they moved closer.
“This is your plan?” shouted Glaucon, irritated at the constant patter of gunfire hitting the generator.
“Just keep moving. We need to get close to the walls,” answered Xenophon.
Gods, I hope this works, he thought nervously.
They were making good progress and reached the halfway mark when the Mulacs must have spotted them. A rocket hit the ground nearby and sent a shower of rock and metal at the flanks of the group. Their armour held, but the impact knocked them all to the ground, exposing them to pulse weapon fire. Maxentius was struck twice in the leg, and Glaucon used his great strength to drag him under the protection of the two shields. The wounded Dekarchos reached up and grabbed Xenophon’s arm.
“You have to keep moving. We’re sitting ducks out here. You’re in charge now, so move it!”
The group tried to continue, but more weapons fire continued to strike around them. Another rocket arced in, and this time heading for their left flank.
“Watch out!” cried Xenophon, but there was nothing they could do. The smoke trail seemed to travel in slow motion as it flew down. Xenophon tensed, waiting for the pain of the strike, but instead three armoured men blocked his view.
Spatharii? he said to himself.
More shields lit up around them as the survivors of the heavy infantry massed on their left to provide extra protection. More gunfire blasted them, but for now they had the protection they needed to push forward. In seconds, they pushed ahead and were even able to drag the wounded Dekarchos into cover behind one of the hundreds of boulders littering the ground. Once at the base of the wall, Xenophon grabbed the plasma cannon and aimed it at point blank range at the base.
“Keep clear!” he barked and then pulled the trigger. At this range, the weapon blew a metre-wide hole in the wall that travelled nearly half a metre inside.
“Tell me you’re not going to shoot your way inside?” asked Tamara, her patience starting to wear thin.
Xenophon ignored her and motioned for the rest of his team to hand over their gear. The spatharii continued providing protection, as well as picking off any Mulacs that leaned over the wall trying to hit the Terrans with their weapons.
“That’s it, and those grenades. Put them all here.”
Xenophon placed all the equipment inside the hole, as well as the spare magazines from the cannon. He then motioned for Glaucon to hand over the pulse cannon itself.
“What?” he asked, looking confused and little annoyed.
Xenophon reached out and grabbed the weapon.
“Just give it up. We don’t have time.”
He took it and pulled open the side panel to reveal the maintenance panel. It was small and consisted of a tiny readout that showed error codes and diagnostic information. He’d only done a few rudimentary sessions on the equipment, but from what he remembered, it used a standard plasma coolant core. With a few minor adjustments, he hit the overcharge button, closed the lid and then threw it amongst the rest of the grenades and magazines.
“That’s it?” asked Jack.
“Yep, it should blow in about thirty seconds,” answered Xenophon.
Roxana looked inside the hole and back at Xenophon.
“You’re kidding, right?”
He shook his head and pointed to the cover near where they had left Maxentius.
“Everybody back from the wall, now!” he cried.
They stepped backwards but continued facing the wall, each shield carefully positioned to try and avoid the worst of the fire. The spatharii did the same, but not even the shields could stop all the fire. By the time they had withdrawn from the wall, another five Terrans lay dead on the ground. From the safety of the rocks, Xenophon looked out at the wall, keeping as low as he could. The Mulacs were running about, evidently concerned at what they couldn’t see.
“Shouldn’t it have blown by now?” asked Jack.
A bright blue flash answered his question. The entire centre section of the wall vanished in a devastating pulse of energy that shook the very ground they stood on. The shockwave was immense, and anybody unfortunate to be exposed was hurled to the ground. Behind the blast came a thick cloud of dust, completely obscuring the Terrans.
“Inside!” shouted the commander of spatharii.
Along the line, the dust-covered soldiers picked themselves up and rushed to the breach. Visibility was down to less than ten metres, and whereas before they had been taking considerable fire, the enemy could no longer see them. Glaucon and Xenophon helped carry their wounded Dekarchos inside the walls and pushed on forward until reaching an open command post. By the time they reached it, the spatharii had already cut down the surviving Mulacs and secured the area. The gunfire dropped to just a flicker, and the dust cloud was already clearing.
“Good work, you might be a Night Blade after all,” said their Dekarchos through a grimace. The pain from his injuries was obviously substantial, but the effect of the drugs built into his suit seemed to be helping, at least a little.
As more of the dust cleared, the damage caused by the overcharged plasma cannon became obvious. A massive rupture had split the wall down through the middle and left a hole nearly fifteen metres wide. Smashed rock and crushed Mulacs lay all around from the force of the impact. Nearly fifty Mulacs were stood in a confused group, surrounded by Terran soldiers who were busy searching them for weapons.
“Look at this place,” said Roxana. She stood up to examine the inner section of the fortress. The wall was a good distance from the base of the fortress and open. Tents and various apparatus littered the area that clearly had been used as the Mulacs forward base.
<
br /> “I don’t get it. Why did they camp out here instead of inside? Is this it? There can’t have been more than four or five hundred of them in the base, and most were on the wall waiting for us.”
Jack pointed to something in the distance.
“That’s why. If you look carefully, you can see their faces, and they ain’t no Mulacs.”
Xenophon tapped the button on his helmet to increase the magnification of the visual unit. He could see hastily erected defences at the windows and doorways of the fortress. The faces looked almost human, but they had the same thin faces and pale skin he had seen on their commander, Lord Cyrus.
“Medes, they must be the survivors.”
A number of Night Blades soldiers checked three tracks leading out of the base. Xenophon walked over to look.
“What is it?” he asked.
“They had some heavy wheeled vehicles here. The tracks lead out through the gatehouse there.” He pointed back to the wall. The gateway was heavily damaged from the battle, but the gate itself was still intact.
“If you ask me, I bet they send a force to attack another part of the Citadel.”
The man’s voice was nearly drowned out by the arrival of dozens of dromons, bringing the rest of the spatharii. With the wall breached, it was finally safe to land the rest of Dukas Xenias’ forces.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The Citadel, Planet Cappadocia
It took less than twenty minutes for the rest of the ground troops to land their vessels and start unloading heavy equipment. The dromons were dusty and some damaged from incoming fire. Even so, they discharged their cargos of equipment and troops with great speed. Most had landed outside, but one had made the dangerous trip inside the Mulac compound. It was an incredible feat of flying and placed the troops on board directly into the heart of the operation. As it touched down, the door blew open, and a man in heavy Arcadian armour stepped out from the cloud of dust. Some of the spatharii nearby spotted him and knelt down.
“Dukas Xenias,” whispered Roxana.
The armoured man moved forward, closely followed by an armed bodyguard of elite spatharii. He moved into the compound, looked at the damage, and then up to the rest of the Citadel. His armour was far more impressive than anything worn by the regular troops and was covered in ornamental flourishes. A dozen dekarchos rushed up to him and updated him of their progress. Xenophon moved forward to try and hear what was happening but was stopped by another man in heavy armour; it was Komes Pasion, the commander of the Night Blades.
“Stratiotes Xenophon, isn’t it? You brought down the wall?” he asked.
Xenophon didn’t know what to say and simply nodded in agreement. The Komes was a warrior from a completely different background to himself. Whereas Xenophon was lithe, young and intellectual, the Komes was well built, strong and hardened by years of conflict.
“Excellent!” replied the Komes. He wore similar armour to the Dukas, and at this range the detail and inscriptions in his helmet and breastplate stood out. He was not just a mercenary; he clearly had substantial military experience. The Komes walked towards their senior commander and motioned for Xenophon and his comrades to join them. The Komes saluted, and the Dukas looked first at him and then over to Xenophon.
“So, with all the spatharii available to us, it was a simple stratiotes of the Night Blades that gained entry for us. Impressive.”
He looked about as though trying to find somebody else.
“This is your unit I see, but where is your Dekarchos?”
Roxana spoke in reply, keen to be noticed by the old commander.
“Wounded, Dukas. During the assault on the walls, he was struck by pulse rifle rounds.”
“Then I hope he will recover soon. This force has much to be grateful for. If not for this breach, we may have had to call off the mission and lose up to half of my troops.”
Lose? He would just leave his men behind? Xenophon thought, now not quite as impressed as he had been.
The Dukas turned back to his bodyguard and to the newly arrived Komes. They spoke for a while, and every few seconds one of the men would point up to the fortress. More fighters flew overhead, circling around the mountains. Xenophon watched them and almost smiled at the increasing numbers. The operation looked like it was all working well.
That is when it happened. When the operation moved from total victory into a great defeat. It began from the highest point on the low right peak, about eight hundred metres up. From what looked like an observation platform, a great blast erupted. It wasn’t an explosion, and the mountaintop wasn’t damaged. It was more like an area of effect weapon that sent a faint red distortion wave out in all directions. Sensors built into the troops’ armour on the ground instantly picked up the energy weapon threat.
“It’s an enhanced electro-magnetic pulse weapon!” shouted one of the junior officers.
The small number of fighters circling the mountain spun out of control. Their control systems were compromised by the close contact to the blast wave. Those aircraft that were further away altered their course to move well away from the mountains. He watched as one of the dromons that had already lifted off and accelerated up into the sky to start its return trip to the fleet. No sooner had it reached the height of the field than a series of odd occurrences started. At first a number of flashes ran along its stern. Seconds later, the vessel was falling from the sky. The Dukas watched in anger as it continued on its depressing course until smashing into a nearby rocky outcrop.
“The bastards have blocked us in with shields!” he snapped.
Komes Pasion checked a portable tactical unit that was still functioning. Xenophon looked at his hands and breathed a sigh of relief that both weapons were showing as functioning.
I can do without non-functioning weapons if we’re trapped here!
“It’s not just that, Dukas. We’ve lost all communications above the shield. They must be interfering with our digital traffic.”
A loud cry like that of a wailing banshee burst from the lower levels of the Citadel. The high-pitched scream caught the attention of all the Terrans. Xenophon felt a shudder run down his spine at the sound. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. He looked in the direction of the sound and spotted movement along the lower levels. It looked like people were breaking out from the structure. For a second it looked like the civilians, but then he saw the armour.
“Mulacs!” shouted a spatharios.
Like a kicked ant’s nest, the trickle of Mulacs quickly turned into a surge of thousands as they charged out of every doorway or shadow. The look on the face of Dukas Xenias changed from interest to near panic. Komes Pasion identified the threat immediately and took control. He rushed over to the nearest unit and pointed up to the Citadel.
“This is a Mulac trap. Form into defensive positions, now!”
Xenophon heard his voice appear inside his helmet’s communication unit.
“This is Komes Pasion. Mulacs are surging from the Citadel. Take up defensive positions, and prepare for assault.”
Almost as soon as he started to speak, the Mulacs slowed their progress and proceeded to spread out, creating a wide front that in a matter of minutes would surround the Terrans on three sides. The enemy artillery opened fire, some from the Citadel and more from the other peaks dotted around the fortress. The first shots were high explosive, and soon followed by the much deadlier plasma shells that dropped down from high weapon installations. The Terrans scrambled into cover, using everything from Mulac cargo containers to pieces of equipment or even the rubble from the smashed Citadel walls for protection. Hundreds of humanity’s best warriors, who until a minute earlier had been revelling in their success, now found their position reversed. They took shelter inside the part of the fortress they had so recently captured and awaited the terrible onslaught of the Mulac attackers. A group of the last four remaining fighters launched a series of missiles at the peak in a vain attempt to destroy the weapon. Before the missiles covered half the
distance, they were plucked out of the sky by accurate automatic pulse cannon fire.
Xenophon and another five squads of stratiotes from the Night Blades moved to the right side of their force’s deployment area. Once in cover, he looked up to the peak and checked the magnification on his helmet. He could see turrets that far up plus movement.
“What is it?” asked Roxana.
He looked at her for a moment. Her armour was filthy, yet she seemed to be almost enjoying the rigour of combat. She spotted him smiling at her and looked back up at the peak, trying to hide her embarrassment. He checked the readings in his helmet again, doing his best to avoid thinking about their awkward glance.
“There are definitely people up there. They must have heavy weapons to protect the tower from aerial attack or missiles,” said Xenophon.
“Let’s see how they like this,” grumbled Glaucon.
He grabbed a pulse rifle from one of the fallen stratiotes that littered the ground and checked the magazine. He lifted it and took careful aim. With a firm squeeze, he sent a round to the top of the tower. Xenophon watched through his helmet’s optics, but there was no obvious effect.
“Nothing.”
The rest of the Night Blades were now well entrenched in the ruins and all checking their weapons. The Mulacs were only a few hundred metres away, and the periodic artillery fire would soon change to that of close ranged firepower. Komes Pasion appeared in front of them all, his armour still looking surprisingly clean. Three of his bodyguards erected shield generators behind him to protect their leader from the odd pulse round that landed nearby.
“Stratiotes, we need to shut this shield generator down. Clearchus will not risk sending more troops to assist us until he can break through. I need two squads to climb that peak and destroy the transmitter.”
He pointed up to the low mountain and the structure just over halfway up.
“It’s at least an eight hundred metre climb, but we have nothing that can reach it.”
Jack lifted his hand. “I used to climb. I can make it!” he called out.
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