The Eternal Fortress (Star Legions Book 6)

by Michael G. Thomas

  Xenophon sat inside the cargo bay of the captured raider and waited. The interior was packed with personnel, most being assault troops. Cables hung down from the walls, slaved into a pair of large control units hardwired into the navigation and engineering modules of the ship.

  “Will she hold together?” he asked.

  Lyra, the young female engineer pointed at the warning indicators on the screen.

  “The connections will hold but not under pressure. I can keep the course true, for now.”

  Xenophon nodded.

  “And the shields?”

  Lyra laughed.

  “Maybe they will hold. They were already in poor condition, and the changes we’ve made have made them a lot worse.”

  “That’s the plan,” said Glaucon.

  Auletes Pradonis, the seasoned communications officer wiped his brow.

  “Xenophon, they’re getting pretty insistent. They want the codes, and they want to speak with our Sarvan.”

  He’d been expecting that but not quite so soon. The Auletes was one of the best in the fleet, and that was why he had requested him as a temporary transfer from the light cruiser Drakonis. Kentarchos Ezekiel Manus had complained bitterly, but few could argue that Xenophon would need one of their best to bluff his way to the Fortress. Xenophon gave him the nod.

  “Send the code, and let’s hope the price we paid is worth it.”

  Auletes Pradonis took control of the second screen and began the procedure for sending in the coded data. Glaucon watched and then pointed at the planet that lay off to their port flank.

  “It looks bigger than it did in Cassandra’s chamber, don’t you think?”

  Xenophon had been thinking just the same.

  “Yes, it is massive, and way more than the fleet could handle.”

  “Especially with that thing.”

  Glaucon pointed at the marked area for the pyramid defensive structure. It was one of many large sections on the planet, but unlike the rest, this one was surrounded by ring after ring of defences.

  “Do you think it’s as powerful as Cassandra said it was?”

  Xenophon began to answer, but the Auletes caught their attention. He looked both surprised and ecstatic.

  “The code has been accepted, and we’ve been placed on a mid-level orbit to dock with the secondary shipyard.”

  “And?” Glaucon asked.

  The Auletes pointed to the screen and moved the imagery about to show the Fortress, their current position, and their projected path. Both Xenophon and Glaucon gasped at what they could see.

  “Either they are intentionally putting us there, or this is a blessing,” said Glaucon.

  Xenophon shook his head.

  “In my experience, blessings should always come with a safety warning. Just look at the positioning. They want us directly above the weapon, in plain line of sight, and moored to what looks like an abandoned or partially active platform.”

  He rubbed his chin as though he had just thought up some cunning ruse.

  “On the other hand, this could be just the opportunity we need.”

  He turned away from the screen.

  “I want a slight change of plan.”

  Glaucon groaned but Xenophon continued.

  “We will move into position and send out a mayday. Cut our engines, and let the planet pull us down to the platform. As we make contact, we detonate and destroy the ship and the platform.”

  The others listened in stunned silence, but Glaucon actually seemed to like it.

  “So we get an even bigger piece of cover, and while they try to clear up, we send in the dromons to the surface.”

  “Exactly,” said Xenophon, “We’ll be through the atmosphere and on target to hit the weapon system with micro-atomics before they know what has hit them.”

  The Auletes nodded along with them.

  “And then the Strategos will sweep in, provide orbital support, and clear up. Sounds like a plan.”

  “Then it is agreed. Good, send word to the transports. Timasion needs to have his dromons ready for launch on my mark. Make sure he has the new trajectories and engine data. I want this to go smooth and by the numbers.”

  “Affirmative,” said Auletes Pradonis.

  The formation of five ships limped on towards a mid-level orbit, with the Elamite battleship leading by ten kilometres. Each ship looked their part, with large sections of hull blasted away, and heavy cutters burning deeply into their bulkheads. Respite continued to dump a mixture of super-heated plasma and radiation behind her, like a comet leaving behind a tail. Every few minutes a secondary fire or explosion would break out, and although they were dangerous, for the duration of the journey remaining they were unimportant.

  “Did you feel that?” Theras asked.

  Desma tapped her helmet and muttered something.

  “What did you say?”

  Desma twisted her neck about so she could look at the spatharios directly to his face.

  “I said it is the sound of the starboard gunnery mounts collapsing.”

  Theras did not seem amused.

  “What the hell are you talking about? We can’t even see out from inside this thing.”

  Glaucon tapped the screen that showed the external view. Theras strained to see, but he quickly found the part Desma had been describing. A large chunk of the hulk had split away and was now spinning off to their side.

  “She’s right. The strain of the jump is beginning to show.”

  They sat in silence, watching the decrepit fleet moved closer and closer to the small planet. The nearer they moved the more Xenophon realised there was something odd about the world. It might have been its small size, or it could have just been his imagination. In either case it was moot because they were reaching the outer marker.

  “It’s time,” said Xenophon, “The countdown has started. We will begin the deceleration in six minutes and then drop into our orbital path. Get ready.”

  He signalled for the Auletes to prepare the codeword to the other ships. As he waited, the others made final checks on their space suit seals. The standard spatharii armour was useless in a vacuum and would leave them dead in minutes, so they would be making use of equipment borrowed from the Arcadians.

  Auletes Pradonis pointed to one of the Laconians assisting Theras with his suit.

  “Dukas. Have you ever used this equipment before in a combat drop?”

  “Sure,” said Xenophon, not even hesitating as he answered.

  “Really?” said the man, clearly surprised at his answer. “We did simulated drops back in the Academy but never a live drop.”

  He tapped his head.

  “Too risky, you see.”

  Xenophon spotted Glaucon looking at him. It was a familiar look, and one that was telling him to come clean. Xenophon, however, disagreed and dissuaded him saying anything with a simple shake of his head.

  “It will work as long as we keep things simple.”

  He then looked back to the other mercenaries. It was impossible to tell the stratiotes from the more heavily armoured spatharii in the EVA suits. The bulky clothing was braced with ring plating that would offer modest protection against small arms fire. Only the officers carried manoeuvring thrusters, all of which were built into the flanks of their large backpacks.

  “This is going to get violent very quickly. Just watch yourselves out there and no heroics, understood?”

  A chorus of acknowledgements came back from each corner of the craft.

  “Don’t forget that the suit is only if we’re required to drop at high altitude. It will keep you from burning up on the way down. It won’t open your ‘chute for you, though, and it will slow you down if you keep it on in combat.”

  The battleship moved towards the Eternal Fortress like a ghost ship, her shields flickering and engines putting out the bare minimum of thrust to stay on course. At the same time, a small number of local sentry fighters had now moved into formation around the larger vessels. The Auletes watch
ed the starmap and observation screen so closely and carefully that he almost missed the new signals.

  “No! Wait, there’s contact from behind the planet. They are moving into view...now.”

  Glaucon and Xenophon crowded around the screen.

  “Look, I’ve seen that ship somewhere before,” said Glaucon.

  Xenophon recognised it as well.

  “That’s the Boubak, and if she is here, then so are other military ships.”

  They watched in silence as the number of ships continued to grow, with an odd mixture of regional ships and mercenary sloops running at different heights over the planet. Xenophon leaned over to Glaucon and whispered quietly in his ear.

  “Make your last checks and get ready. I’ve got a pretty bad feeling about all of this.”

  The ships were already caught in the gravitational pull of the planet and continued to move around the world and on a path to dock with the shipyard. Two more fighters were now in position, moving busily about to examine the damage to the ships. Xenophon pulled on his helmet and checked his own weapons. The wait seemed to go on for hours and hours, but at last they reached their final approach with the vast structure.

  “It’s time,” said Xenophon.

  * * *

  Carian Battleship ‘Boubak’, The Eternal Fortress, Shattered Systems

  Boubak shifted and decreased her thrust to reduce her altitude, adjusting her course by almost a kilometre. Small puffs of gas pulsed around the ship as it made subtle adjustments, and then they fell silent. The ship was exotic, especially when compared to the average Median battleship. It was the Carian iconography that made the greatest difference, however, glossy black shapes and letters that covered her hull from bow to stern.

  There was something else about her long rakish lines that made her stand out more than any other ship in the sector. It might have been the armour plating fitted to the hull, or the colours of Caria flown brazenly like a pirate ship of old. More likely, it was the long scars; each lovingly repaired but never replaced or painted over. Each one of these old marks was a footnote in a long career as a deadly warship. Scorch marks and melted metal showed where superheated plasma had struck the outer plates. The much smaller puncture wounds were where heavy cutters had wounded her deeply with their penetrating power.

  “Scan the area again. I want a full-spectrum analysis of those ships.”

  Darbabad Forouzandeh watched the area of space around the shipyards with interest. The screens almost matched the sophistication of the VOB systems on the larger Terran ships; the only real difference being that the Terran design gave an almost three hundred and sixty degree view. This was more than enough for her, though, and a great improvement over any other ship in the fleet.

  “My Lord, the energy signatures are as expected. The battleship has sustained heavy plasma damage.”

  “And her power cores?”

  “Stable, my Lord. The damage to all of the ships is superficial in terms of their power systems.”

  “I see.”

  Darbabad Forouzandeh looked carefully at the hull of the battleship. It was unremarkable, just one of the many used in the Median fleet. The damage was consistent with the fighting, but she was still suspicious. The poor communications was just one part of it; the other was that so far there was no sign of the enemy.

  Where are you hiding?

  A look back to the open space far off in every direction yielded nothing to her. The mixture of regional and mercenary ships around the Fortress was enough of an incentive to stay away. Yet it still was not quite enough to beat off a concerted attack.

  Ariaeus is playing a risky game here.

  She looked off to the star and wondered what the Terrans were doing right now.

  If it were me, I would scout this sector first.

  She turned about and looked back at the battleship.

  “Surely not, is that a scout disguised as a crippled vessel?”

  The Sarvan was unsure if he should answer.

  “What shall we do, my Lord?”

  Darbabad Forouzandeh ignored him for the time being and looked at the flank of the heavily damaged Elamite. The marking near the hull had already been tracked, and the ship matched the information given by her crew. Still, Darbabad Forouzandeh was not satisfied. She finally turned back to the Sarvan with no discernible emotion to her face.

  “Prepare the ship for battle,” she said calmly.

  The Sarvan was surprised, but he was a professional, and on this ship it would get you killed if you questioned the Darbabad. He nodded in acknowledgement, moving back to issue orders to the crew.

  Her Carian officers, the elite ten percent of the crew, then took over. This specific elite group of the Median nobility managed every section and group in the ship, and as they issued their orders, she knew they would be carried out quickly and efficiently.

  “Our capacitors are reaching their peak, and our weapon systems are charged and ready. Should we open the gun ports and activate the shields?”

  Darbabad Forouzandeh ignored him and looked at the imagery around her ship. The defensive screen of ships was well placed to protect the Fortress from an attack of any conceivable size. Finally, she turned to the officer and shook her head.

  “No, not yet. These are our friends; just make sure all our crew are ready. If I smell one whiff of betrayal, we will unleash hell upon them all.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Carian Battleship ‘Boubak’, The Eternal Fortress, Shattered Systems

  “They will dock is ninety seconds, Darbabad,” said the Sarvan.

  Darbabad Forouzandeh nodded but kept her attention on the ship. The opportunity to attack her orbital forces had passed, and now the only target remotely close was that of the shipyard. She had chosen this particular point for the docking of the ship for a variety of reasons; the first being that it was primarily disused, but secondly because there was a sizable mercenary force currently camped there.

  Go on! Try me! Open your gun ports and I will burn you.

  A moment of doubt caught her, and she looked down at the planet where thousands of soldiers waited. The warning indicator on her systems confirmed the planetary weapon was still active. The radar systems on the planet were so vast that every few minutes their own sweeps began to interfere with hers. The only comfort being that the system was online and ready to provide heavy gunnery support, if and when she needed it.

  “Check contact with the pyramid. Are they online?”

  The Sarvan nodded.

  “Yes, my Lord. They are online, charged, and waiting for targets.”

  Darbabad Forouzandeh smiled. The weapon system truly was the most powerful weapon she had ever had at her disposal. One signal and the gun could target and destroy any capital ship with ease. She began to imagine the damage it would cause to a Terran warship, or even a Titan.

  A Titan in flames, now that is a sight I would like to see.

  “Contact, new ships on approach. A single Terran armed trade ship.”

  Darbabad Forouzandeh moved from the damaged Imperial ship at the mention of the word Terran. The display unit changed to match her focus and zoomed in. It was a class she hadn’t seen before and was flanked by a pair of escorting ships.

  “Shields up. Activate engines and bring us to the forward deployment zone.”

  The Sarvan pointed to the damaged group of ships slipping into the shipyard facility. Docking arms were already reaching, and thick umbilical cords were busy attaching to the ship. The transports had moved in to matching open docks, each one shaped like large metal fingers.

  “And the Elamite?”

  She watched it for a few seconds, but her lip quivered with anticipation. She could sense something was about to happen, but there was little chance to identify the weakness until the threat revealed itself.

  “They can do nothing of use back there. Just keep the signal locks on her. She’ll be useless as a scout if that is their intention.”

  She nodded toward
s the shipyard.

  “Notify those mercenary animals on board they can board the damaged ships themselves. If they meet any resistance, they have my full authorisation to use any force they deem necessary.”

  “Yes, my Lord.”

  She looked back to the view of the approaching ship and back to the Elamite. She spotted something unexpected and moved closer to the screen.

  “Enlarge.”

  With the image pulled out to five times larger, she could see the deep gash in the hull. The shadow had done something to catch her eye, but on closer examination she could see it was nothing. One of the tactical officers, whose job it was to continually assess the threats around them; focussed in on the spot she had shown interest in.

  “My Lord, what are those?”

  The Sarvan shuffled off to his officers but halted upon seeing Darbabad Forouzandeh had frozen, but it didn’t last long. She moved the imagery in closer, and that was when she spotted cables and wiring near the damage. Just behind the cables were cases that were in turn fitted to mag clamp units.

  “No...it can’t be. They have devices fitted to the ship. Boarding craft or weapon systems.”

  She turned to the Sarvan, her face already changing shape.

  “Battlestations!”

  The Sarvan jumped to work, and the warning siren, a staple of the command section of almost every ship in existence, howled through the ship. It didn’t last long. It just needed to sound long enough to warn the crew.

  “Bring us in closer and target the battleship. I want her weapon systems and shielding taken out on my mark.”

  The ship groaned as the engine forced unnatural changes to her position in orbit. Normally, it would require hours of manoeuvring to alter height and speed, but she used the power of the massive engines to do that in minutes. A squealing sound came from the ceiling, as the immense strains on the centuries-old ship put great pressure on her hull. Even though the effort was great, it was nothing close to what would be needed to damage her.

  “Course changed, we are lined up on the battleship. Range three kilometres,” said the Sarvan, “Weapons are locked and ready.”