Table of Contents
BLACK LEGION: GATES OF CILICIA
PREFACE
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BLACK LEGION: ASSAULT ON KHORRAM
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
EPILOGUE
BLACK LEGION: WARLORDS OF CUNAXA
PREFACE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
APPENDIX
APPENDIX I: THE GALAXY
APPENDIX II: PEOPLE
APPENDIX III: TERMINOLOGY
APPENDIX IV: THE TEN THOUSAND
BLACK LEGION: GATES OF CILICIA
By Michael G. Thomas
PART of the BLACK LEGION SAGA
Copyright © 2012 Michael G. Thomas
3rd Edition Published Nov 2013
Published by Swordworks Books
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
PREFACE
The Black Legion series combines my background in computing, ancient history and European martial arts with the famous story of Xenophon and the Ten Thousand mercenaries. I wanted to create a rich and exciting story inspired by the political machinations of Heinlein and the military plot of The Anabasis. Though others have used ancient tales as the basis for some great science-fiction novels, I believe this is the first time the story has been simply transplanted into a fictional futuristic setting, without altering totally from the original. I have retained the locations, races and characters as much as possible while adding additional elements that I hope add to the story. You do not need to know the story of Xenophon but if you do, then you are sure to enjoy the twists and turns that are inspired from the struggles of those tired and desperate Ten Thousand soldiers.
The original adventure was detailed by the Greek professional soldier and writer Xenophon himself in his great work titled The Anabasis. The story is one of the great adventures in human history and shows man at his best and worst. We meet strange people; and find new customs while watching the arguments and infighting amongst the Greeks themselves. I can truly recommend the original text, which is available freely in English translation. There are of course many changes to the main story, but I have endeavored to stay as close to the original as possible and include many of the great events that took place. All the key players are there, including Xenophon, Clearchus, Tissaphernes, Artaxerxes, and of course, Cyrus. There are many new words for the reader to get through, and I have added a handy glossary at the end of the book to help with the most common. The military terms and designations are a combination of Ancient Greek and Byzantine, and I have tried to avoid using our modern equivalents, such as generals and platoons. I appreciate that many will not have come across the terms strategos, dekarchos, dukas or spatharii,but by the end you will be an expert, and I hope you find it helps immerse you into the story and the great adventure that was the Anabasis.
PROLOGUE
The two young men moved quickly to avoid the weapons of the training automatons. Though artificially created, each creature looked like a man and moved with the skill and grace of a dancer. Even so, the two young men were just as fast. Wearing nothing more than their training tunics, they were completely exposed to the curved blades and spear points of their opponents. Gryllus and Eustathios were almost indistinguishable from each other. Both of the brothers were dark haired and fit from months of training. The only discernible distance was their height; Eustathios was a fraction shorter and slightly broader at the shoulders.
“Now!” cried Gryllus.
They jumped forward and ducked passed the machines. The four automatons stabbed with their spears, but the boys were too fast. The first was cut down, three slashes that removed a leg, arm and finally a head. The final three stepped back and aimed their weapons at the boys, keeping them at a distance. Two stabbed at Gryllus, and he managed to sidestep them, but only just. One of the tips grazed his cheek, but he was able to cut downwards to remove the arms of the machine. It slumped down to its knees and deactivated.
“Move back!” shouted Eustathios.
He didn’t even wait, knowing full well his brother would do as asked. His blade swung and cut into the fallen automaton and removed its head. The two remaining automatons dropped their spears and drew a pair of blunt training swords to match the boys. Both were curved and about a meter long. One hacked away while the second stayed close, waiting for a mistake by either boy. Gryllus parried attack after attack, but the machines were too quick for either of them to counterattack in time.
Eustathios stumbled and fell to the floor, and one of the automatons broke ranks to chase him. It was a simple trick and easily spotted by a human. These automatons were nothing like the artificial life used by the Empire as workers. These were stripped of all but the most basic routines to make them useful for combat training. Anything more would encourage the possibility of revolt, and something the Laconians had learnt long ago, much to their cost.
Eustathios rolled to his side and then slashed out at the automaton. From his low position, he easily cut through the ankle. The strike sent the machine to the floor, only to be followed up by Gryllus. Eustathios jumped up and joined his brother for the final blow.
“Nice work,” exclaimed Gryllus with a cheeky grin.
“Enough!” called out the old man that watched from the safety of the balcony.
The automaton instantly shutdown and gave the impression of a lifelike statue in the gymnasium. The two boys looked up to their father, disappointment in their eyes. He looked down and smiled.
“You have both done well. These automatons are expensive, and I have no doubt you would have eliminated the last as quickly as the first. You will practice against a new trainer tomorrow, a live Terran trainer from old Laconia. He will hone the two of you into formidable warriors. For now, rest yourselves, you have a big day ahead of you.”
Two servants helped Xenophon to h
is chair at the side of the gymnasium. His body was old, yet his muscles were firm and his face bright with life. At one hundred and seventeen years old, he was no longer a young man. Yet in an age where a man’s life could be extended to nearly double that, he could still feel the aches from his numerous old wounds. As he sat down, he rubbed his right hand, the numbness in the knuckles still bringing a little pain. Bizarrely, he smiled at the feeling.
“What is it, Father?” asked Gryllus, his youngest son. He was confused at his mixture of pain and enjoyment. Xenophon looked back, unsure as to what he was referring to.
“What do you mean?”
“What are you smiling at?” he asked again.
“Ah, you boys remind me of my youth. Glaucon and I used to train very much like you two, before the war with Laconia.”
The young boy looked confused, scratching his chin. There was something about his tone when he mentioned Laconia that sounded sarcastic. His father said nothing more though, so he picked up his training saber. It was a basic design with a simple hilt and long curved blade. He used it often during his training and had performed routine maintenance on it over a number of years. He held it out in front of Xenophon.
“Why did you train with weapons like these then?”
“Ah, I see,” replied Xenophon. “You don’t understand why we trained to use close quarter combat weapons when we had access to much more powerful weapons. That is a good question.”
He adjusted his position, making himself more comfortable.
“Back when the Alliance still existed, some of us trained for all kinds of combat. There are times you might be forced to fight when you’re unarmed, and other times you might have to fight with a knife or blade. Our first real battle at the Cilician Gates involved a great deal of blade work.”
Eustathios wandered over and sat down next to the two of them.
“Only some of you trained? Not all soldiers?” he asked, now interested in their conversation.
“No, very few did outside of Laconia. It proved useful in our dealings with Clearchus and the Ten Thousand though,” he said, smiling to himself.
“The expedition against the Medes?” asked Gryllus.
Xenophon nodded slowly at them both. He moved his hand in a gesture that brought up a map of the star systems nearby. He was about to speak but turned back to them, noticing their confused expression.
“Of course, that was well before you two were born.”
He looked back to the star map.
“Not many talk about it now, except for those that are still alive that took part. We were the first to discover the rot at the heart of the old Median Empire.”
He brought up an image of a battle filled out with dozens of warriors engaged in a violent firefight. Both sides were armored, but one group was very different to the Terrans. Whereas the humans wore armor that shared much in common with archaic human armor used back on Old Earth, the Medes were very different. Taller, more slender and wearing close fitting body armor, they looked both alien and elegant. One had his helmet removed, and it showed off his long hair and almost elfin facial features.
“Recognize the artwork?”
Gryllus spoke first.
“The Battle of Plataea, where the Terrans allied for the first time to fight back the Medes.”
“Father, of course we know the image. It’s one of the most famous pieces of art still left from the wars.”
Xenophon smiled at them both, pleased with their knowledge and interest in the subject.
“Our old rivals and most bitter enemies. None of that would have mattered without one particular decision. In this case, the last one ever made by the Terran Alliance and its much vaunted democracy.”
CHAPTER ONE
Attica, Capital of the Terran Alliance
“Today we choose to go to war then?” asked Xenophon, with more than a hint of sarcasm to his voice. His old friend Glaucon tried to respond but was drowned out by the roar of six Thunderbolt fighters. The heavy fighters flew over the city, leaving a trail of vapor and smoke behind them. It was a show of force by the Alliance military, and more than likely a reminder as to which way the public were expected to vote. Xenophon smiled inwardly, lowering his gaze to the people and the exquisite buildings.
“Come on, we have work to do.”
Glaucon glanced at his friend, recognizing the keenness to vote. They shared much, but a view on politics wasn’t one of them. He followed Xenophon to the entrance of the main buildings and stopped when they reached the guards. The Prefect of the Inner Ward stood nearby with his symbol of authority, a centuries old glaive. The old-fashioned polearm weapon was a relic from a long bygone era, and one of just a handful remaining. It consisted of a single-edged blade on the end of a pole and was encrusted with precious stones and metals. Two guards stood by in full Alliance military uniforms and cradling standard issue pulse carbines across their chests.
“A bit over the top, isn’t that?” asked Glaucon, not in the slightest concerned at addressing one of the highest officials in the city. The Prefect looked at him but said nothing. Glaucon looked back to Xenophon who just smiled and nudged him forward.
“Don’t dawdle, we have business to attend to!” he laughed.
The Ecclesia was packed with citizens of every age and background from across the planet. Some were regular attendants of the assembly, for others it was their very first visit. Either way, it was quite possibly the single most important meeting of the Ecclesia since its founding hundreds of years before. It often reminded Xenophon of an unruly mob with its long arguments and snap decisions. The debate had already finished, and across Attica similar gatherings were taking place. The decisions made today by the citizen body would determine the future of not just the homeworld but also the entire Alliance. Any citizen was allowed to speak or vote, but only those with military service were allowed to participate in the elite and prestigious body known as the Boule. Five hundred citizens were chosen by lot each year to run this important department. The Boule’s primary role was to administer and run day-to-day affairs, but it also presented business to the assembly of the citizens to be voted upon.
Xenophon watched with interest as a number of young men and women he knew well approached the stand. They had all served their required year in the military to receive the honor, an honor that he so far had managed to avoid. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to serve in the military. It was just that he felt no particular calling to serve when the only real threat was from pirates or slavers. The cold war between the two old Terran rivals was always on, but had spilled out into open warfare for decades. He liked to think that when the time came, and his people were in peril, he would step up and volunteer. They waited a short moment before an older man, slightly shorter and in his official robes, approached. He took his place in the centre of the group and looked down to the crowds of citizens. This was something that happened only on the free worlds of the Alliance. No other empire or organization could claim this level of democracy or involvement by its citizens in the day-to-day running of the state.
Not that a democracy is the best form of government. This place is more like a cattle market than a place of political discourse, Xenophon considered with great disdain.
Most of the Alliance worlds had adopted various forms of democratic government, but Attica was unique. This was the only world where every single citizen could, and was expected to, play a part. They held public office and voted on everything from tax and spending to foreign affairs and deployment of the armed forces. Unlike most worlds, it was possible to work for a year as a magistrate or official in some capacity, based purely by lot, not merit. It was a system loved by most, but not Xenophon.
A silence spread through the great open building as the old man raised his arms. It was the signal for all those present to take their seats. It took a few seconds. Especially, as many of those present were a good deal older than Xenophon.
“Citizens, the debate before the members of the Boule
is over. This has been a long and difficult topic to discuss, and we have sought information, intelligence and expertise at every stage. We cannot deny the public interest in this struggle and have therefore decided it is time for you to vote on the proposed call-up and military action. As citizens of Attica and the Alliance, your votes must now be considered. As is tradition, we have a fifteen-minute recess to give you the opportunity to place your ballots and to double-check the official records and statements. Before you vote, I would like to reiterate the importance of this vote. A decision for war will mean sending your own sons and daughters, even yourselves, into harm’s way. Do not enter into such a decision lightly.”
The first sensible thing I have heard all day, thought Xenophon.
The man sat down, and no sooner did he touch the stonework, the entire place erupted into action. A great chorus of shouting, chattering and general noise echoed through the Ecclesia. The acoustics did nothing but help the spread of sound to every corner of the ancient structure. Xenophon and Glaucon moved away to the side where it was a little quieter. The Assembly building itself was circular in shape and equipped with beautifully detailed columns around the perimeter. The stonework was lavishly carved with great events from the Terrans’ past. Stories, such as the first colonies founded by humanity, took up most of the space. In the centre of the building was a much thicker, larger column that had been erected almost a century before. The two men moved past the column as they made their way to one of the many alcoves that dotted the stone structure. Vertical display panels were placed at discrete points so that citizens could vote in private. Glaucon stopped and gazed at the lighter stonework of the large column. He was of a more bulky shape than Xenophon, a mixture of genetics and a lot of time in the gymnasium. Where Xenophon was the intelligent, calculating and agile young man, Glaucon was the rich liberal, yet ham-fisted and easy to anger.
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