Black Legion - The First Trilogy

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Black Legion - The First Trilogy Page 50

by Michael G. Thomas


  “Stop him!” screamed Xenias in the direction of the orb as he was dragged to the ground by three of the Anusiyans.

  Glaucon lowered his pulse cannon and blazed away, but it was too little, too late. The enemy were among them, and the battle degenerated into a bloody melee in the centre of the Royal quarters. Only Artemas, Xenophon and Tamara managed to extricate themselves, running to the right of the room where they could use the darkness near the tall columns for cover.

  “Where did he go?” asked Xenophon.

  “The light, it is how he communicates with the rest of the fleet. If he is not here, then he is leaving,” explained Artemas.

  As they spoke, Tamara moved on further, sneaking through the shadows until she was past the orb. She turned back and shouted.

  “There’s a chamber back here, come on!”

  She ran off, leaving Xenophon and Artemas to give chase. As they moved, a group of five of the Anusiyans spotted them leaving and turned to pursue them. Two were cut down by Terran carbine fire, but three made it to the orb and out of sight of the main battle. The chamber was only a short distance away, and they moved inside cautiously, expecting a trap at any moment. Artemas spotted the movement first and jumped back in time to avoid a narrow blade thrust forward by more of the Anusiyans. Xenophon grabbed the nearest arm and yanked the warrior forward. Tamara dropped down low and stabbed her blade into its head before moving ahead and engaging the rest. Artemas followed closely, but Xenophon moved more slowly, ever aware they could be hit from behind. Almost on cue, the other three Anusiyans appeared directly in his sights. He gunned down the first two, but the third managed to beat his carbine aside and knocked him to the wall. As he spun around, he noticed the fleeting form of the Emperor in all his finery climbing inside what looked like a small armoured shuttle. A line of Anusiyans guarded it while Artemas and Tamara hacked and stabbed at them.

  “Out of my way!” he snapped at the one still fighting him and kicked him in the lower leg. The Medes warrior howled and stabbed down with his own blade. Xenophon ducked to the side and punched the warrior hard, only to meet metal armour. The pain was excruciating but not enough to stop him stooping down and grabbing his now empty carbine. The warrior rushed at him, forgetting for a second that it was not just a carbine. It was a stand issue Laconian Asgeirr-Carbine. With a single swift uppercut, he stabbed through the Anusiyan’s throat and into the brain. He spun around and dragged himself up to help his friends, but there were simply too many of them. Then he heard a familiar voice.

  “Get down!” came the gruff sound of Glaucon.

  Xenophon didn’t even look, and he threw himself down to the floor. Tamara and Artemas saw him move and jumped aside in time for his old friend to open fire. The plasma-cannon were much too big for most Terrans to carry, yet Glaucon made it look like lightweight. As if in slow motion, he blasted away, each round burning fist-sized holes through the thin armour of the warriors. It was over quickly, and not one remained standing near the metal body of the shuttle.

  “Thanks!” smiled Xenophon. He turned to look at the shuttle, but they were too late. It had already turned and was moving towards the circular door about twenty metres away. Glaucon lifted his weapon to shoot, but an alarm started around them.

  “No!” screamed Artemas, hold onto something!”

  Glaucon dropped his weapon and grabbed the nearest bulkhead. The others did the same, just in time for the door to blast open and expose the compartment to the cold, sterile environment of space. The shuttle rushed out of the ship and into space.

  “Artemas shouted out something in her native tongue, and the outer door started to close. In what seemed like an age it finally shut, and the terrible whistling of the air escaping the ship stopped.

  “We failed!” growled Xenophon, bitterly angry they had missed the Emperor by a matter of seconds.

  The four stood and turned back to the small corridor that led inside the Royal Chamber. It was a short walk to where the orb stood, yet their victory felt hollow. Dukas Xenias and the others were already tearing the place apart, trying to find a sign of the hatred leader. Xenias spotted Xenophon and stopped, looking towards him but saying nothing.

  “He’s escape, an armoured shuttle,” he explained angrily.

  Xenias placed his head in his hands before tapping the node in his temple.

  “Strategos Clearchus, he has escaped.”

  * * *

  Clearchus watched the battle from his vantage point while he waited for confirmation from the nearer vessels. It took sometime before the auletes of the Herakles contacted him.

  “Strategos, we have him on our scanner, sector twelve alpha. He is heading for the jump beacon.”

  Clearchus’ heart almost skipped a beat. Stood next to him was Cyrus, and his expression told him all he needed to know. The Emperor had to be stopped. He signalled for Auletes Juda Bellee to transfer his communication to every ship in the fleet.

  “All ships are to target this vessel. It is the Emperor, I repeat, all other objectives rescinded. Destroy him!” he barked.

  “Sir, new signal, ships are jumping in!” called the Auletes.

  Clearchus looked at the tactical display, and the coloured shapes appearing around the Emperor’s shuttle. He shook his head in disbelief as they materialised.

  “Imperial Corsairs, they are Menon’s ships, Sir!” said Tactical Officer Jeane Coxand.

  He watched in frustration as the vessels swamped around him, and then the shuttle was gone. It was either swallowed up or destroyed by one of the ships.

  “Where is he?” demanded Clearchus, but it was clear they were already too late.

  “Incoming signal from the corsairs, Strategos.”

  Cyrus stepped next to Clearchus, a look of anger and disappointment on his face.

  “It will be him,” he said dispassionately.

  Clearchus nodded in agreement.

  “Put him on.”

  The main screen changed from the tactical map to the insides of a lavish Medes warship. The form of Menon, supposedly killed on Aronton, stood in the centre while another approached. Cyrus nodded as his brother moved next to Menon and stared with his cold black eyes back at the Terrans.

  “You attack me in my own lands, brother. For this betrayal you have started a war that will not end until every planet you call home is burnt to ashes, and your body is impaled at my Royal residence!” he roared and then the feed cut out.

  Cyrus and Clearchus looked at each other, neither of them having anything more to say. It was a major blow, there was no denying it. With the Emperor gone, the battle was now pointless and any victory irrelevant. Those ships that were able to escape were already trying to jump while an even greater numbered signalled their intention to surrender. It was a victory but a hollow one.

  EPILOGUE

  Median Flagship Rashnu, Khorram shipyards

  The battle for Khorram was over and the time for consolidation and recovery had begun. Hundreds of Medes crewmen were in the process of being escorted from their fallen ships, though a small number of them had elected to serve on board the ships of Ariaeus. It was the capture of the Rashnu that was the real prize, and over a hundred technicians and intelligence experts from the Legion were already stripping anything of note from her innards.

  Xenophon and the other warriors that had helped secure her were busy moving the wounded warriors from both sides when the shapes of Strategos Clearchus, Lord Cyrus and their entourage of bodyguards arrived. Every Terran warrior stood smartly to attention as they marched past. As they reached the centre of the Royal Chamber, they moved to the glowing orb still pulsing in the centre of the room. Lord Cyrus stopped alongside it and looked inside as if he expected to find something. The rest of the guards spread out to the fringes of the room.

  “What is it?” asked Clearchus.

  Cyrus turned to him, his expression one of disappointment.

  “It’s a command throne. From here you can visualise and control any ship or sy
stems.”

  Clearchus looked confused, so Cyrus stepped through the shimmering object and indicated for Clearchus to join him. He hesitated for a second before stepping forward. As he pushed inside, he noticed it felt like static electricity as he moved through the field. Once inside it was as if he was back on the Valediction, the interior of the orb showed the space outside the ship and the hundreds of ships that had taken part in the battle.

  “Just look at a ship and think about it. Look closer, issue orders, all with the mind.”

  Clearchus looked at one of the Elamite battleships that had surrendered just an hour earlier. He looked to the aft weapon mounts, and they instantly filled the orb.

  “Impressive.”

  He stepped back out of the orb and looked to the four Dukas that had boarded the ship in the midst of battle. The nearest was Xenias, commander of the Arcadians, and the first to have made it inside. He stepped forward and grasped his forearm.

  “Dukas Xenias, it is good, very good to see you. Your forces did excellent work here, and they are to be commended.”

  The Dukas nodded in acknowledgement. Clearchus moved on to the next Dukas, continuing his visit to thank all of those involved for the turning point of the battle. As they continued their discussion, Xenophon and his friends watched the processions of senior figures but especially Clearchus and Cyrus. They had become more than just the men in charge of the campaign; they were larger than life characters, and the kind of people that would be written of in later annals of history. As they stood and waited patiently, Cyrus stopped and looked towards them. He stared for several seconds and then marched over and grabbed Artemas, pulling her to his body. He spoke excitedly but in the impossible to understand Medes dialect all the nobles seemed to use.

  “What the hell?” said Glaucon, and perhaps little louder than he should.

  The noise drew the attention of Clearchus who turned from the Dukas and marched over to Cyrus. He noted the Medes woman, but there were no signs of recognition from him.

  “Who is this?” he asked politely.

  Xenophon saluted and replied as quickly as he could.

  “This is Lady Artemas, daughter of Lygdamis, one of the Median governors of the Ionian Territories. She has been assisting our operation to rejoin you. It was she that gained us access to the command centre of this ship,” he explained.

  Cyrus turned to Clearchus; his expression had already turned from the disappointment of the battle to the pleasure at meeting Artemas.

  “Strategos, let me introduce my niece, Artemas. I thought she had been lost when we lost contact with the territories.”

  He turned back to her but continued in English.

  “So you have been with the Legion from the start? I would never have guessed.”

  He then looked to Xenophon and his small group.

  “And who are these people, your friends?”

  Artemas nodded and placed her hand on Xenophon’s shoulder.

  “This is Xenophon, ex-Alliance soldier and leader of my personal bodyguard. These are his warriors.”

  She moved along the line, stopping at each of them.

  “Julius, commander of Dukas Xenias’ elite commandos, and if it were not for them, none of us would have survived the treachery of Tissaphernes.”

  Clearchus looked surprised at the news of the Medes noble, but Cyrus seemed unperturbed by what she had to say. She then reached Glaucon who was still carrying his pulse-cannon.

  “Glaucon, friend of Xenophon, a loyal soldier of the Terrans, and his right arm has protected all of us since we started our trip to rejoin the Legion.”

  There were only two left, Roxana and Tamara. They were both filthy from the fighting, and Roxana had two sets of rough bandages on her wounds.

  “Roxana, Alliance military, and is the wisest of them all. This one is Tamara, and she is the wolverine of the group.”

  Tamara looked confused at the name, but Clearchus and Cyrus both laughed with amusement at the distinction.

  “Well, my friends. It would appear we have much to discuss. We have your Titan, Tissaphernes, our current situation and the unresolved issue of your brother, Lord Cyrus.”

  “Indeed, and I will join you shortly,” said the Medes noble. Clearchus returned to the Dukas, but Cyrus stayed with Artemas and her friends.

  “I thank all of you for both your loyalty to the Legion and more importantly to me, for the protection of my niece. I would like to invite you all to dine with me this evening, on board the Valediction. I will arrange for my guard to make the arrangements.”

  He nodded politely, then released his grip on Artemas and returned to Clearchus. Artemas turned and looked back to her comrades.

  “Well, my friends, it would appear you have just made a new and powerful friend with my uncle. I suggest you get cleaned up before he calls for you.”

  Glaucon moved up to Xenophon and grasped his shoulder.

  “See, I told you it was a smart move to stay with the Legion. If we’d gone back home like you wanted, we’d probably still be rotting in a prison cell.”

  Roxana and Tamara moved closer to Artemas, both of them with surprised looks on their faces. Tamara seemed to have brightened up, but none could tell if it was down to their survival, their new found friends or just the aftermath of blood and carnage.

  “So Cyrus is your uncle?” asked Tamara.

  Artemas nodded quickly.

  “My family have been in hiding since the troubles on the border. Family politics is complicated. Let’s just say it is safer for us to be hidden but close to our friends and Uncle Cyrus.”

  Roxana smiled and nodded in understanding, the situation was now starting to reconcile in her head.

  “Hence there being a number of your family in the fleet. So are you really Imperial Agents, then, or Royal stowaways?”

  Artemas simply smiled at them all.

  “That is mere semantics.”

  Julius, the newest member of their circle nodded towards the assembled spatharii who were waiting patiently to be allowed to continue with their work. Most were talking amongst themselves, but not one dared to move away until given the word by their superiors. Clearchus turned from the waiting Dukas and looked to the warriors. He lifted both of his hands, the small bandage still showing on his left hand.

  “You have all done outstanding work. Until we have established the whereabouts of the renegade Artaxerxes, we will stay in this sector and consolidate. You have all earned yourselves a good rest. You shall have a week’s dispensation while we repair, rebuild and reconnoitre this area. I will ensure a number of the stations are made available to you for some well needed R&R!”

  The assembled warriors cheered in pleasure at the news. In truth, he needed the time to repair the fleet, take on supplies and integrate the scores of newly captured ships into his fleet. Cyrus nodded at his short statement and leaned closer to speak quietly into his ear.

  “A good plan, and with this defeat, we may well find the regional satraps begging to join my forces. He may fall without even another fight!”

  Clearchus smiled back, but deep down he knew full well that no tyrant would give up his position so easily. Artaxerxes had been beaten this time, but he had an empire of billions and unimaginable resources with which to fight. He looked at the warriors around him, the captured battleship and then to Artemas and her group of Terran friends. He pondered the future, and it filled with dread.

  He will be back, and next time I suspect the battle will be like no other in history.

  BLACK LEGION: WARLORDS OF CUNAXA

  By Michael G. Thomas

  PART of the BLACK LEGION SAGA

  Copyright © 2012 Michael G. Thomas

  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 endeavoured 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 news 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.

 

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