The Eternal Fortress (Star Legions Book 6)

by Michael G. Thomas

  A short stratiotes approached and pointed off into the distance.

  “Sir, the mercenaries are falling back on this route.”

  He lifted a unit showing the area of the ship explored so far. Dotted lines highlighted the paths taken by the enemy. Some scattered off inside the ship, but one large group were all heading in the same direction.

  “That’s got to be the bridge. It has to be,” said Glaucon.

  Xenophon seemed to agree.

  “Either way, that’s where the bulk of them are going. The mercenary said the same thing. We move quickly, find who’s in charge, and take over. They will fight for pay, not for the honour of their ship or their people.”

  He looked at the warriors behind him and back to Glaucon.

  “If they resist, kill them. Otherwise take prisoners. Now...move it!”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Light Cruiser ‘Antaeus’, Fleet Assembly Point, Geghard Quadrant

  Roxana watched the battle as it unfolded before her like many others battles she had seen before. Battleships exchanged broadsides, while fighters swept in to launch rockets and missiles. The Geghard Quadrant had probably never seen such a ferocious battle before, but unlike most space battles, this one was not about the total destruction of one force over the other. Relatively few ships were burning, but as every minute went by, the number of combat ships reduced as boarding parties successfully entered the warships and transports of the Hayastani forces.

  “Impressive work,” said Kentarchos Cadmus, “I never would have thought such an assault would work on a large scale.”

  Roxana was too busy looking at ship positions to answer, at least for a moment. The force given to Xenophon was small but still powerful in a full on engagement such as this. With Xenophon away, she was now in charge and beginning to enjoy herself. She pointed off to the small number of remaining battleships trying to withdraw to the Bactrian battleship. The nearer they moved to the ancient warship, the less the Strategos wanted to take chances.

  “Xenophon has been talking for some time about changing space battle tactics to match those on the ground. By using the Corvus, we can pin their ships and use our main advantage.”

  “Warriors,” said the Kentarchos.

  “Exactly.”

  Roxana looked again at the computers and selected two locations.

  “By hitting them in this way we reduce the damage to our vessels, as well as increasing the size of our fleet. “

  She then pointed to the flashing icons.

  “Bring us about and move to these coordinates.”

  Kentarchos Cadmus gave the positions a cursory glance and passed them on to his crew, and then to the other ships. The response was instant, something that Roxana found a welcome surprise. The cruiser banked hard and activated its engines to move to the new location. A wing of Seafox fighters came in close to watch for incoming missiles. Once they were underway the Kentarchos looked back to her.

  “You are bringing us in around the Bactrian. Why? Surely the area would be better protected by the fighters than risking putting us in close.”

  Roxana lifted an eyebrow at his question and then tapped the small display that showed the position of the Terrans inside the Bactrian warship.

  “This is not to do with us. This is for them inside. Xenophon is there with the best of our forces. He has five dekas of Night Blades and twice that number of spatharii. A hundred and fifty warriors to take an entire ship.”

  She moved her hand to show their progress in the ship.

  “The rest of the assault teams have landed at these locations, but this has put them too far away from Xenophon. Our estimates are that the ship has a standard crew of upwards of a thousand. The indicators from the internal scanners show they are coalescing into three groups and heading for the bridge, but look here.”

  The Kentarchos only took a few seconds to work out what was happening.

  “The mercenaries are heading in the same direction, all towards the bridge.”

  Roxana nodded slowly.

  “Exactly. The rest of our forces are too far back to help him. I estimate these mercenaries will have the bridge surrounded in less than seven minutes. He will be outnumbered almost ten to one.”

  Kentarchos Cadmus whistled through his teeth.

  “Even Xenophon won’t hold that many off, not without help.”

  Lady Artemas walked onto the deck with a pair of Night Blades at her flank. The warriors were not technically a guard unit, but due to Xenophon and Glaucon’s influence with the group, they had become something of an honorary unit amongst the Night Blades. She was dressed in her usual finery, but her posture and poise were back to normal. She looked as elegant and as commanding as she had before the fighting at Bijar.

  “Problem?”

  Roxana nodded politely and then indicated to the screen.

  “Xenophon has managed to find himself trouble on board their ship.”

  She looked back to the Kentarchos.

  “If we position cruisers at these points, we can establish a crossfire through the hull and hold them off.”

  “You want to use light cruisers as close-support artillery?”

  Roxana closed her eyes for a moment in obvious frustration.

  “No, Kentarchos. It is not what I want to do. It is what I will do.”

  The man could see he had crossed the line and lowered his head politely.

  “It will be done.”

  As he moved away, she looked to Artemas; only then noticing the Median lady was armed for battle.

  “Is there something I don’t know?”

  Artemas smiled.

  “That is only for you to say. I just like to be ready.”

  She reached to her side and pulled out the long Makhaira blade. Its edged gleamed in the mixed lighting of the ship.

  “It is better to be armed, and not need it.”

  “...than need it, and be unarmed,” Roxana finished.

  Artemas almost bowed in appreciation at the Terran completing her ancient proverb. She then gazed upon the Bactrian schematic, and her face changed to surprise.

  “I have seen this internal design before, but I had no idea it was from an actual real ship.”

  Roxana looked surprised at this.

  “You know this ship’s layout? When were you going to tell us?”

  Lady Artemas looked back at her, her smile beginning to fade.

  “My father was promised a vessel such as this one, as partial payment for marrying me off to Tirbazus. I only ever saw artwork showing the interior. There is a grand royal chamber, sparring hall, and more. It is a floating palace, not a warship.”

  Roxana almost choked.

  “You were going to be traded like a horse, for that thing?”

  Artemas lifted her shoulders and shrugged.

  “Well, then, it’s high time we took that ship for ourselves. You can’t be traded if you already have the ship!”

  * * *

  Bactrian Grand Battleship, Fleet Assembly Point, Geghard Quadrant

  This one was like many of the other corridors and just as beautiful. Sculptures of ancient monsters covered the walls, and lights hung down from the ceiling to send out a bewildering array of colours in all directions. A single gold gilded doorway led off to the left, and a unit of Night Blades were already inside. One popped out his head and shook it.

  “Storage room, nothing but clothes in here.”

  Glaucon raised an eyebrow and then signalled for the spatharii at the front to keep moving. They did so quickly, making sure they checked for all possible signs of the enemy. Xenophon was close behind, still talking on his communications node. As per protocol in a boarding action, he’d made sure they were all were protected by a pair of portable shield generators. It slowed them down, but it kept them alive. The warriors moved just a few more metres when the booby trap was activated. There was no sensor or wire, just the hidden mercenaries waiting for the right moment.

  “There’s a...”
/>
  Two of the spatharii vanished in a bright flash, one being vaporised immediately. The flash was all the warning the rest of the Terrans received as they entered this new part of the ship. The blast was followed by a powerful shockwave that blew out from both sides of the corridor and at those in the front ranks. Rather than hitting the Terrans with heat or debris, these were special pulsed charges designed to hit them with the maximum volume of energy several times over. The shock wave was incredibly strong and struck at the shielding of the spatharii. Though it was incapable of killing them outright, it did knock down a shield and force the four at the front to the ground.

  “Take cover, return fire!” Glaucon shouted.

  A rocket spiralled past those at the front and struck one spatharii who was running for cover. The warhead hit him in the chest and propelled him back so hard he struck the wall with a loud crash. If it hadn’t been for his Corinthian helm, he would have been knocked unconscious, perhaps even killed.

  “Incoming!”

  With the shield temporarily down, the defenders put down a withering hail of gunfire. One Night Blade took a burst in the leg before an Arcadian spatharios dragged him to cover.

  One of the Night Blades muttered something and lifted his rifle, but more shots hit around him, forcing him to shelter behind a statue of an unknown armoured warrior. Xenophon looked back and then hit his communications node.

  “Xenophon here. We’re pinned down in the forward superstructure. I need a full threat assessment.”

  “We’re on it,” came back Roxana’s voice.

  Something brushed against his shoulder, and he found Desma pushing past them to reach him. Her shield was still on, and in her right hand the Doru carbine looked little bigger than a large pistol. She was as big as a man, but unlike them, she was moving directly into the path of gunfire. One rocket came down, and just before it struck her, she dropped to left knee and angled her shielded arm. The projectile glanced off in a shower of sparks and crashed into the wall.

  “I don’t like this,” muttered Glaucon.

  He was low on the ground and trying to get one of the portable shields back up. The others were firing back, but the mercenaries had chosen the ground well. The corridor angled upwards a few degrees, and they were hunkered down behind something that looked like a knocked over metal cabinet.

  “Troglodytai!” yelled one of them.

  Glaucon laughed at the insult, lifted up his own weapon, and fired blindly back at them. The pulse cannon made a loud roar as it unleashed its heavy calibre projectiles. For a brief moment the defenders’ fire was reduced, but then it returned, and as ferocious as ever. Another shield activated, and suddenly their position began to look a little less precarious. He looked to Xenophon.

  “Who are they calling Troglodytai?”

  It was an old insult, one that dated back generations before him and meant something like ‘primitive cave dweller’. He’d used the shortened form often as a child to insult his friends, but hearing it from a foreigner with such a thick accent made it almost comical.

  “With me,” said Desma.

  The large women went past them, her shield lifted high and deflecting round after round. Glaucon joined her, then Xenophon and three more warriors. Another managed to get one shield active, and then they were moving. The small group of warriors huddled close together, taking full advantage of the protection offered by the energy fields. Xenophon couldn’t believe they were able to move again and took aim over the shields to put down fire on the mercenaries.

  “Keep moving,” he said.

  A short report came in over the communications node. It wasn’t much, but simply told him that Timasion was taking his craft into the lower part of the ship. Xenophon tapped the unit in frustration.

  “Get your people aboard, and fast, Timasion. We are under heavy fire.”

  There was no reply, just a digital acknowledgement tone.

  Typical, he’ll leave it to us, as normal.

  He turned his attention to the more important task at hand. Xenophon’s forces could be relied upon, and he had no doubt they could take the ship. As with the others, he moved his feet just one step at a time and up the gentle gradient. It might have looked comical if one of them had called a beat, but as they moved metre by metre, the defensive fire became more desperate. Behind them the Night Blades inched forward, using any piece of cover they could find while putting down covering fire against the dug-in mercenaries.

  “Now!” Glaucon yelled.

  Those holding the shields pulled the unit emitters to one side and created two openings through which the spatharii could stream out from. Like warriors leaping from a landing craft, they surged ahead, Glaucon leading one group and Desma the other. A pitiful volley of fire struck about them, and then Desma was amongst them. What seemed to be two mercenaries, actually turned out to be five. She beat one aside with her shield, then vaulted the barricade and vanished.

  “Left, close order fire,” said Glaucon as he jumped on top of the unit. From the higher position, he could see Desma hacking and blasting at the heavily armoured mercenaries. One already lay dead, but another wore extra thick armour, with sections angled down at the shoulders and head. He might have been a machine, if it were not for a small part of his face being visible about the chin.

  “Surrender!” he shouted.

  At the same time, Glaucon dropped down and more spatharii joined him. The larger of the mercenaries lurched at him and fired a double-barrelled shotgun. Both rounds struck Glaucon’s breastplate, and he was knocked back into the mass of Terrans. Xenophon pushed past, ducked under the shots, and then landed alongside the warrior.

  “Keep moving!”

  He indicated to the other spatharii to his right. Xenophon moved like a boxer, staying quick on his feet and stabbing with his hands. The old Laconian weapons were tough and deadly at this range. He struck out with the blade and blasted at the same time. The armour of the mercenary proved useless against such violence, and in just seconds the warrior was on the ground bleeding out his last moments. Desma, on the other hand, had taken on the lion’s share of their numbers and was up against the wall while two of them struck her with blades. Her armour and shielding deflected the attacks until finally she stabbed one of them, and the other was cut down by a spatharios.

  “Drive them back,” said Glaucon, staggering up to his feet.

  One more fell and then the defeat quickly became a rout. The last of the mercenaries dropped to their knees, and Night Blades moved in to take them prisoner. The fight was over in seconds, and yet another part of the ship was secure. As the prisoners were manacled, Glaucon lumbered to Xenophon. A pair of jagged holes showed where the shotgun flechette rounds had punctured his armour.

  “You fool, you should be dead after that,” said Xenophon.

  He tried to be cheerful about the wound, but the expression on his friend’s face showed it was much more serious than that. Xenophon looked back to where they had come from and spotted movement.

  “Rearguard, now!”

  The Night Blades responded first, and four spun about to cover just as a single mercenary rushed towards them. The poor soul must have been told to run because he ran into the most deadly ambush any man could have imagined. The gunfire hit him with such intensity that he was knocked back a clear three metres before hitting the ground dead.

  “They are on our tail,” said Xenophon.

  He wiped the sweat running down his face and caught the back of his armoured fist on his helm. It made a grinding sound that caught his attention. He looked to Glaucon, questioning him without speaking. Glaucon’s expression told him what he needed to know.

  “Keep moving. It’s time to take this damned ship!”

  The Terrans pushed on through the passageways until reaching the widest and most opulent staircase any of them had ever seen. Even Xenophon stopped to gaze upon the great beauty. The lower steps were as wide as a Terran frigate, while the top step shrunk to half of its width. The s
teps were marble in white and grey, and the edges inlaid with gold. At the flanks were golden railings, edged with a red trim. Yet the staircase paled when compared to the art covering the walls and ceiling.

  “This is taking it just a little too far, don’t you think?” Glaucon asked.

  There was a slight groan as he spoke, perhaps subtle enough for the others, but not for Xenophon. He stepped back to help him, but Glaucon sent him away with a shake of his hand. Desma looked up the stairs and back behind them before turning to Xenophon.

  “I don’t like this.”

  Xenophon nodded in agreement.

  “I know. The scanners are showing movement in our direction. It’s exactly as Roxana said it would be. The mercenaries are not stupid. They’ve sent in small numbers to slow us down and have regrouped at key locations. One of them is in that direction and hot on our tails.”

  Glaucon pointed back.

  “Exactly. The rest of them will be holding back our other squads. Either we fight our way back, hunker down, or keep moving. I suspect they already know this is our main effort.”

  “Wait,” said Xenophon, “Or they know that the direction we’re heading in is towards the most valuable part of the ship.”

  Glaucon considered his words, but not for long. He grinned.

  “Yeah, their commander, it must be. Whoever is in charge must be there, and they want to make sure the fighting stays well away from them.”

  Xenophon tapped his helmet and listened for a few seconds. The other Terrans spread out; all looking for any sign of the illusive enemy. A Robotic Domains ship would be defended at every point, as would a Median ship. If a Median ship was about to fall, you could expect its commander and senior officers to try and escape.

  This is no Medes or Hayastani ship, thought Xenophon.

  A Bactrian Grand Battleship was indeed something very different to a standard military vessel. Either it was owned and commanded by the same mercenary, or one had been found and paid to command it in battle. Losing such a ship would be enough of a black mark on a mercenary’s character that they might never find work again. Glaucon reached for his friend and grabbed his arm. He steadied himself before speaking his mind.