Black Legion - The First Trilogy

by Michael G. Thomas

  All the Terrans leapt to their feet with their weapons drawn. Clearchus had already activated his personal body shield on his left side, and the blade on his right Asgeirr-Carbine was fully extended. Proxenus, Sophaenetus and Kratez turned to face their foes, but only Clearchus was equipped with the humming energy field. His personal retinue of Epilektoi, under the command of Komes Artemis, surrounded them in a protective cordon, raising their weapons to their shoulders. Kleandridas took his place at the front, his weapons drawn and ready. Though a little late, he finally activated his own personal shield. The Emperor laughed very slowly, putting on a show of amusement at their discomfort.

  “At this very moment, I am approaching this world with my Royal Fleet plus additional escorts for your ships. I have many uses for your Legion in my Empire. They will be well paid under my the control of my own officer corps.”

  He paused, letting the Terrans fully understand what he had to say.

  “But I have no need of your troublesome commanders.”

  With those last words, his image vanished, and the room fell silent. The nobles in golden clothing dropped their cloaks to reveal the armour of the Zacynthians. They drew carbines from inside their clothing and levelled them at the assembled Dukas. Still nothing happened, and the machines and small groups of soldiers waited. At the same time, the group of Terran commanders, as well as Artemas and Xenophon, prepared for the inevitable. Tissaphernes watched all of this with glee and finally called out a single word. It meant nothing to the Terrans, but Artemas knew instantly what was going to happen. She grabbed Xenophon and pulled him to the floor.

  “Down!” she screamed.

  At the same time, the combat drones opened fire with their belt-fed pulse cannons. Proxenus and Kleandridas took the brunt of the initial bursts as they jumped towards the guards directly in front of Tissaphernes. Proxenus was cut down before he had time to fire, as dozens of heavy calibre rounds slammed into his engraved armour. He spun about wildly, dropping to the ground just two metres from the table. His body was torn apart by multiple impacts. Kleandridas managed to cut down two guards with gunfire before one of the machines brought its armoured fist down onto his skull with an impact that snapped his spine like a dry twig. The room erupted into a bloodbath as every single warrior and machine inside opened fire. The sharp cracks from the Terran pulse weapons were drowned out by the massed cannons of the machines. One drone was destroyed and three Median guards killed before the Terrans were amongst them.

  Sophaenetus and Kratez leapt at the nearest drone, and half of the surviving Epilektoi charged towards Tissaphernes. They quickly cut down all, but the golden dressed Terran mercenaries were formed in a line of armour and weapons. Both small groups blasted at each other. They were quickly forced to use whatever furniture, columns and fallen bodies they could find for cover. In the centre of the room stood Clearchus, Komes Artemis and four brave Epilektoi, all of them engaged in a bloody and one-sided struggle with the other two combat drones.

  “Come on!” shouted Xenophon.

  He and Artemas lifted themselves from the fray and attacked the machines keeping Sophaenetus and Kratez busy. All four managed to put enough gunfire onto the first drone to force it to the ground, but not before a spiteful blade from its left side stuck out and decapitated Sophaenetus, sending his broken remains to the ground. Xenophon stabbed both of his fists into its torso and finished it off with two short bursts. The second machine swung at Kratez and threw him against the wall. Before he could move, a pair of the Anusiyan guards took aim and struck him with a dozen rounds in the face and torso. He slumped down to leave just Clearchus and Meno remaining of the assembled Dukas. Xenophon ducked down to avoid gunfire from another group of guards as they surged inside. He could see the Laconian commander in the middle of the room, surrounded by the remaining drones and multiple groups of Anusiyans. Clearchus stabbed his blade into the machine’s body before leaning to avoid a counter-strike from the other robot. Xenophon rolled across the floor and leapt up to attack in time to parry a strike against the flank of Komes Artemis. He then followed up with a stab to the attacker’s chest that jammed the weapon on his right hand into the armour. He yanked back his arm and the weapon detached. He tried to grab it, but more gunfire ripped through the structure and part of the outer wall torn down to reveal the smoke filled sky of the Citadel. He rolled back to avoid being hit.

  “Force them back!” called out Lady Artemas. She lifted her carbine to cut down another one of the enemy soldiers. Though only the four of them remained able to fight, they had managed to push back the enemy to the one entrance still defended by three Epilektoi. The wide archway filled with streaks of pulse fire as both sides tried to gain the advantage. Two of the drones were still in the room, and it took the bulk and shielding of Clearchus for them to be able to get close enough to make one of them twist too far. They barged it to the breached wall so that it fell the great distance out into the open space. Xenophon smiled and reached to Clearchus to move him to the opening where he could see friendly dromons moving into position to take away survivors.

  “Excellent. Now we can leave this place!”

  Xenophon opened his mouth to shout, but he was too late. A glaive thrust through Clearchus’ back, and the tip of the razor sharp weapon pushed out of his chest. To his side stood the grinning Meno, with his hands still on the shaft.

  “No!” shouted Xenophon, but Artemas knocked him down as a fusillade of gunshots tore about them, hammering into the body of Komes Artemis. Xenophon took aim with his remaining weapon, but it simply clicked, now completely out of ammunition. He ripped it off and grabbed at one of the many fallen pulse rifles.

  Clearchus dropped to his knee and coughed; a great mouthful of blood gushed from his mouth and ran down his chest. He spun around and with a quick flick of his wrist embedded his Asgeirr-Carbine’s blade into Meno’s face. Both collapsed to the ground, their blood mingling in a great pool on the floor. Clearchus’ weapon detached from his arm and fell to the ground with a clatter. With his life falling away, Clearchus looked into Xenophon’s eyes and spat out his final words.

  “Protect...protect the Legion.”

  With that, he tipped over, lifeless. Xenophon reached out, grabbed the weapon and looked over to Artemas. He saw her contorted and bitter face.

  Clearchus, he’s gone. The Strategos is dead!

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  As the smoke cleared from the dromons first volley of rockets, the crew watched sections of the structure fall away. The armoured Laconian dromon spun into position so that the passengers on board could get a clear view of the breach. Streaks of tracer and pulse fire clattered around it as the last dromons swept down to evacuate the remaining warriors. Turret fire struck its armoured flank, but luckily, two Arcadian gunships were able to engage and destroy it before the dromon could be eliminated. As it moved closer, Roxana opened the side door and took careful aim with her Doru Mk II Rifle. She could see some kind of violent struggle taking place and tapped her throat mic that she’d taken from the sidewall of the craft.

  “Get us closer!” she shouted.

  The pilot looked at her and shook his head.

  “We can’t stay here long! What ever you’re planning, do it quickly!”

  Roxana nodded and looked back inside her scope. She could see just a few Terrans that were pinned down behind a table. To their right were two machines and dozens of Medes soldiers. They seemed to be taking their time and simply sprayed round after round into the huddled warriors. As they moved, she spotted the dark clothing of Lady Artemas.

  Xenophon, where are you?

  Then she spotted his helmet through all the smoke. The dromon moved until it was just a few metres from the wall they’d already breached. The crew on board opened fire with the door mounted guns and managed to kill two of the Medes plus shattering one of the machines. Roxana grabbed the intercom and called out through the external speakers.

  “Get out of there now!”

  The
face of Artemas turned and looked directly at her on the dromon. She then turned away, presumably talking to those near her. Roxana’s heart skipped a beat as she watched Xenophon and Artemas both lift themselves up and return fire before rushing for the breach.

  “Cover them!” shouted Glaucon from his position closer to the rear of the craft. He lurched over as he took aim, and his voice and movement suggested his nerves were at breaking point. Both pintle mounted weapon stations opened up with a terrible effect. Parallel lines of pulse rounds tore into the structure as machines and soldiers tried to intercept the two escaping people. The dromon moved in so close that the backwash from the engines started to pull at the loose masonry from the battle and cast it to the ground.

  Roxana spotted Artemas leaping from the edge of the smashed building and was forced to lurch to her right to give her space to land. She made it with just a few centimetres to spare. As soon as her feet hit the metalwork, she spun around to check on Xenophon. He was right behind her but had neither the speed nor the agility of Artemas. He fell short by half a metre, and both Roxana and Artemas had to reach out and grab his arms before he fell away. Laconian soldiers inside the dromon grabbed both of them to prevent the entire group being plucked out of the craft, and then they were away. The roar of the engines and the tapping sound of rounds striking the metal armour signalled the danger they were still in.

  “Hold on, we need to get out of here! Scanners show three groups of fighters on an intercept course,” called out the pilot.

  Xenophon stood up and looked back at the tracer fire and explosions. Dozens of dromons were lifting off from inside and outside the Citadel while fighters swept in and bombarded any enemy positions that might try to prevent them from escaping. He turned back and nodded to his friends.

  “Thank you, I thought we were dead there.”

  The pilot then interrupted him before he could continue.

  “Dekarchos, I have an urgent message from Topoteretes Pleistoanax. He says three Medes escort destroyers have broken through the blockade and are in the lower atmosphere. They’ve already shot down a rescue dromon and are coming this way with heavy fighter cover.”

  He then looked directly to Xenophon.

  “He needs the status of the Strategos and the others. Did they get out?”

  Xenophon shook his head bitterly.

  “No, every single one of them is dead. We were betrayed, all of us.”

  A rocket exploded off to their right, and the dromon lost height for a few seconds. The internal alarms sounded. The pilot’s skill was exemplary, however, and he quickly righted the craft and made for the route taken by the other craft. A great aerial battle was underway as newly arrived Medes fighters tried to halt their escape. Xenophon saw Roxana looking at him with a confused look on her face.

  “What happened down there?” she asked.

  Artemas spoke first though.

  “It was Tissaphernes and Meno. The whole thing was a trap, and they butchered them, right as we were discussing peace.”

  “What,” shouted out one of the spatharii who was listening intently, “how did they kill the Strategos?”

  Xenophon sighed.

  “He died surrounded by his enemies. I can’t remember how many he killed, but he died with Kleandridas and the others at his side. Combat drones and Medes warriors overwhelmed them.

  “Bastards!” snapped another of the spatharii.

  “We have to go back!” called out another. “I’m not leaving this place until we have our revenge.”

  The pilot could hear what was going on and nodded to his co-pilot. He then looked back to the men and women in the rear of the craft.

  “We can’t go back. The entire Legion is either in the air or dead on the ground. Another ten minutes, and anybody not in space will join them there.”

  With that short but brutal assessment, the dromon moved into position with three other similar craft. Two fighters pushed ahead of them to act as escorts, and the entire formation blasted upwards using every amount of available thrust. Glaucon was buffeted about, but the straps holding in position around the side-mounted gun kept him secure. He took aim at one of the enemy craft and called out to the others.

  “I don’t like it. Look up there.”

  He pointed to a dark cloud of fighters that must have just deployed from the light Medes’ cruisers. Small orange fireballs indicated missile impacts as they fell upon the Terran escorts. Xenophon counted at least fifty dromons in the air, and he knew that half of the Legion could easily be at risk.

  Thousands of warriors are now completely defenceless.

  “Here they come, hold on!” shouted the pilot.

  Shapes from a dozen Medes fighters screamed past with their guns blazing. Terran fighters were hot on their tails, but a number still managed to get their sights on the dromons. Holes appeared on the left side of the vessel, and a number of the soldiers panicked as the air was sucked out violently. Two of the spatharii were struck by metal slugs travelling at hypersonic speeds before exiting on the other side of the craft. The internal repair system vented a gas inside the craft, plugging the breaches with a form of thermal resin. It was temporary but would do the job until they landed, and the damage could be properly fixed.

  We’re screwed. The Legion is gone! Xenophon thought bitterly.

  It wasn’t fair. They’d got this far, only to be cut down as they escaped the grasp of Artaxerxes and his traitors. There didn’t appear to be any other casualties in their own dromon, just those unfortunate to have been killed on the last stage of their escape. He looked to Artemas and couldn’t hide his admiration, not just for her beauty but also for her stoic courage. He would be dead if it were not for her, and that made him even angrier at their predicament. The sky darkened as a massive black shape blocked out the light from the sun for a few seconds.

  “Gods! It’s Damnation!”

  Xenophon had no idea what she meant until he saw the shape of the aged Terran battleship dropping through the atmosphere. Its entire under surface appeared to be burning away, and it left a trail of fire and smoke like a shooting star heading to the surface.

  What the hell are they doing?

  Xenophon assumed, like most of the others, that the ship had lost power and been pulled down through the atmosphere. Instead though, this one seemed to be slowing down, and her weapons systems were busy launching projectiles in all directions.

  “It’s Pleistoanax,” said one of the Laconian soldiers on board.

  They all watched as the burning craft unleashed a torrent of firepower that cut a swath through the enemy craft, giving the dromons the window they needed to blast up and away from Cunaxa. Every single pilot took advantage of the respite they had been granted and accelerated away. As the flotilla of small craft rushed past the burning ship, Xenophon looked back. He felt both anger and sadness at seeing the burning warship as she fell ever downwards, her guns firing continually like a fallen beast lashing out at its attacker. Hundreds of small explosions surrounded her bulk and it was clear, at least to him, that the ship had lost its ability to pull back into orbit. His thoughts were answered when the ship broke apart just half a kilometre above the city of Cunaxa itself. Fuel, ammunitions and burning chunks of metal rained down upon the city and its mighty Citadel. The flames and flashes vanished as they moved up and out of the atmosphere and to the fleet of waiting ships. The Titans and the escorting battleships were drawn up in a defensive formation with hundreds of small vessels moving soldiers, equipment and survivors to safety.

  “What do we do now?” asked Tamara, still nursing her injuries and until now, silent in the dromon. Glaucon looked over from his position at the gun on the flank and shrugged. Xenophon looked to Roxana and then to Artemas. Neither appeared particularly optimistic at their prospects.

  “I’ll tell you what we’re going to do,” he said firmly. “We’ll jump to safety, leave the Empire, and then rebuild the Legion.”

  “Leave?” asked Glaucon incredulously.
“Do you know how many weeks, maybe even months that kind of journey will take?”

  Xenophon nodded slowly.

  “Yes, it will be long and dangerous. But, we either do that or we give up right now. We will have to work together. Laconians, Arcadians, even Thessalians.”

  They sat in silence and waited as their dromon followed a group of other Laconian craft to the port-landing bay on the Titan Valediction. The landing was fast, much faster than normal. Many more craft were coming in behind them, and the turn around by the crew was efficient and very smooth. Artemas stepped out first, followed by Glaucon and Xenophon who both helped the wounded Tamara down the ramp. Waiting for them were a group of Laconian commanders, including Dukas Chirisophus as well as Dukas Xenias of the Arcadians. Xenophon tried to salute, but he needed his hands to help Tamara. A group of medics rushed over with two moving to her, and the others moved inside to check the other casualties. Dukas Chirisophus stepped up to Xenophon.

  “Dekarchos. We heard about the Strategos. We will mourn him properly soon. I need to know, did he have a plan? What did he want to do next? Some of our people want to go back down, some want to leave for home, and some want to negotiate.”

  Dukas Xenias nodded in agreement.

  “My troops will follow the lead of the Laconians for this.”

  Xenophon looked to Artemas. She did her best to smile, turning away to speak with Roxana.

  “Dukas. Before he died, he said just one thing to me. He told me to protect the Legion.”

  Chirisophus looked confused at his answer.

  “Protect the Legion? How exactly did he propose this?”