Black Legion: 05 - Sea of Fire

by Michael G. Thomas

  “Not long now,” said Roxana.

  There were no fighters in sight, as all of them were now aboard the capital ships. The ability to travel such massive distances required incredible energy and powerful propulsion units that were beyond small craft. Only capital ships carried the equipment and fuel required for such journeys. The number of shapes and designs in the fleet was as varied as the color schemes. Thessalian and Laconian ships, though similar and sometimes identical in design still bore their own markings. The Lambda symbol of Ancient Laconia, much like an upturned ‘v’ was present on every ship from that territory. Whereas those from regions previously under the control of the Terran Alliance tended to bear iconography from their own worlds or colonies, sometimes even those of their most prominent families. There were even a number of captured transports, some bearing the markings of the Carduchians.

  “Woe for democracy,” said Xenophon.

  Roxana looked at him and grinned. She was all too familiar with his political opinions. It was one of the first subjects the two of them and Glaucon had ever really discussed. She wasn’t entirely sure which part of democracy he was referring to, but assumed it was likely to be the fleet’s choice of leadership.

  “If we didn’t vote, well, then Chirisophus would be leading this fleet by default.”

  She looked at him carefully and nodded.

  “And you know what that would mean?”

  Xenophon didn’t answer, but she knew he understood. They waited in silence until the first of the ships began their final alignment for a light speed jump. Alignment was critical, as was the timing. When traveling at those kinds of incredible speeds, it was critical they avoided moving into the paths of anything that could damage them. An incorrect calculation could see the fleet destroyed in a millisecond.

  “You’re right, of course. Chirisophus would have made us turn back weeks ago. We would have faced Tissaphernes and the Emperor, as well as the entire Imperial Fleet. The Satrapies would have sent in their own forces so that for every ship we had, they would match us with a hundred.”

  “Yes,” said Roxana, “By now we would all be dead...”

  “More likely slaves,” continued Xenophon.

  A bright light marked the exit of the first ship, and then one by one the fleet jumped away. First to go were the four light cruisers. They were followed seconds later by the eight captured Zacynthian cruisers and fifteen torpedo boats. Already that was a major contingent, but Chirisophus was holding little back. Against Xenophon’s wishes he had demanded that two thirds of the fleet would jump to the next location. They would seize control of the outpost and then report back with an all clear. Xenophon would then follow with the remaining third of the fleet.

  “So Artemas gave him all that information, and this was the plan?” Roxana asked.

  Xenophon looked at her and shrugged.

  “I warned him of the dangers of this place. Being as we have alienated their entire race, we will have to tread carefully. I wanted scouts to go first, and the Titans would stay as the rearguard. We cannot afford to take chances with what is left of the Legion.”

  “And what did he say?”

  Xenophon moved away from the view and looked toward his friend.

  “What do you think? He has plotted the route, and the bulk of the military vessels will move ahead to seize outposts, ships, and resources. When secure, he will call for us to follow with the transports and prisoners.”

  Roxana shook her head in frustration and then noticed a strange look on one of the nearby officers.

  “What is it?”

  Kentarchos Cadmus went to the screen and looked at it carefully while speaking to his junior officer.

  “Are you joking?” demanded the ship’s commander.

  Roxana leaned in closer and looked at the imagery of one of the recently captured Carduchian transports. At first glance there appeared to be no problems, but a slight mist off the starboard engine assembly told a different story.

  “That’s a fuel leak, I promise you.”

  The Kentarchos shook his head.

  “You see, what did I say?”

  Xenophon wasn’t looking at the screen. Instead, he was busy looking around the ship using the VOB system. The modest collection of eighteen ships and a dozen transports was large enough to present him with a ship in nearly every direction. Even so, he was sure he had seen something off into the distance.

  “Kentarchos, I saw something.”

  The commander looked over to Xenophon, his brow narrowed in concentration.

  “You saw what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Roxana looked away from the display and joined Xenophon in looking around them. The six light cruisers were all well spaced apart with pairs of torpedo boats mixed in around them. The other ships waited in a cluster between the escorts, and all of them were currently preparing to jump.

  “What did it look like to you?”

  Xenophon considered his words carefully.

  “Something small, fighter class but difficult to spot.”

  “A camouflage system of some type?” asked Roxana.

  Both continued to turn around, checking every angle. There were few stars visible, due to the great debris field of the Carduchian Wilderness filling every possible direction. Xenophon beckoned to the auletes.

  “Contact the Strategos, and keep him appraised of our situation.”

  The man wiped his brow and then shook his head.

  “I...uh...there is no return confirmation from the rest of the fleet. Something must be jamming them at the other end.”

  Xenophon felt his heart almost stop, if only for a moment.

  Artemas and the others.

  Visions of the fleet running directly into a Carduchian war fleet distracted him, but he knew deep down there was little that could stop them, other than the combined might of the Emperor.

  Artaxerxes

  Just the possibility that the Great King had personally led a fleet to stop them sent another chill down his spine. Their forces were depleted and their options limited. He had that moment of doubt in his gut that could only be removed by taking action.

  We have to survive.

  He turned back to look to his left and at Roxana.

  “It’s a trap. I am sure of it.”

  She didn’t move, but her face was in complete agreement.

  “Remember our Alliance training for ECM warfare?”

  Roxana couldn’t forget it, especially watching Xenophon fumbling about on his first operation.

  “Of course,” she answered.

  Just thinking of the first small battle made Xenophon’s temple itch, as though he could still feel the communications node buried inside his flesh. All of the crew had been fitted with the implants, but that was something that had gone long ago. Auletes Alexandros, the ship’s communications officer pointed to one of their own light cruisers.

  “Audio streams are decaying. We’re picking up major interference.”

  Xenophon and Roxana looked to each other at the same time.

  “It’s an attack!” said Roxana first.

  Xenophon’s mind immediately filled with the dread he had felt so long ago in the Navy. Back then his job had been a simple one, to track, target, and destroy the enemy. Strategy and tactics were somebody else’s responsibility. That wasn’t today. Instead of gun controls and a gunnery team, he was now in nominal command of an entire task force, nearly half of which was non-combatant.

  Xenophon covered the eight paces to the Kentarchos in just a few seconds.

  “Kentarchos, we’re in trouble. Get ready for battle.”

  The man turned his head in surprise.

  “Attack? There’s nothing out here, Xenophon. Do I have to tell...”

  Xenophon breathed in hard and then looked to the rest of the crew, especially the auletes who was responsible for both internal and external communications.

  “Put me on with the fleet.”

  The officer moved
his eyes to look to the Kentarchos, but Roxana blocked his line of sight.

  “Do it,” she added.

  The man turned back around and pressed a few buttons.

  “You’re on, Topoteretes.”

  Kentarchos Cadmus continued to complain, but Xenophon lifted his hand to silence him.

  “This is Topoteretes Xenophon; the fleet is being shadowed by local warships. I suspect these are Carduchian light skirmish ships. Battlestations, and switch to direct communications only; no more wide band!”

  The alert sounded inside Antaeus; just at it would be on every other remaining ship in this sector. Every crew would already be waiting for the orders to ready for battle, but no matter how many times it had been heard, it always sent out a chill. As the orders continued through the ship, it took a few more seconds for the communications system to transfer to direct mode. This would slow the ability for ships to speak to each other, but direct laser communication would negate any form of jamming. Roxana monitored the configuration of the secure network before looking to Xenophon.

  “The grid is active. Each capital ship will bounce and repeat any signals coming in from the others. As long as the motorized mounts function, we’ll be able to maintain control.”

  “Good work. Are you ready?”

  Roxana smiled in answer.

  “Good,” said Xenophon.

  He tapped his earpiece and connected via the newly activated direct communications grid.

  “Open gun ports, launch fighters, power up the guns, and activate manual targeting.”

  He moved his eyes a little to see the confusion on the face of the Kentarchos.

  “What is the problem? You accept my command, do you not?”

  The man cleared his throat before answering.

  “Command? Of course, no...I am confused, on the manual targeting? Have you ever tried to...”

  “Yes,” interrupted Xenophon, “Back in the Academy we were trained for this kind of combat. If you’re up against a decent opponent, it’s what you would expect to have to do. A good gunner will have trained to use his eyes as much as his computer.”

  Xenophon reached for an earpiece and lifted it to his head. It wasn’t as advanced as the communication node, but at least it didn’t require surgery to fit it. Once in position, he activated the unit, waited for confirmation, and then selected each of the ships in turn.

  “Kyklos formation?” Roxana asked.

  Xenophon grinned.

  “Of course.”

  He proceeded to issue the orders to bring the fleet into the classic defensive posture. Unlike the line formations often used in fleet engagements, this one was based around a sphere, whereby the bow of each ship would face outward to prevent the flanks being hit by the enemy.

  “Until we know more, we cannot afford to fight on their terms.”

  Kentarchos Cadmus started to speak again, but information was already spreading through the ship. He turned back around to command his ship and issue the necessary orders for the cruiser to join the others in a loose skirmish screen around the fleet. The first two fighter squadrons were now deployed and moving around the transports, watching for signs of missiles or torpedoes. Roxana watched all around them, noting with satisfaction that the fleet had formed what was in effect, a laager. The weaker ships were clustered together with fighters around them, and the capital ships spread out to create an outer shell of armor, guns, and shielding.

  “What are you thinking?” asked Roxana.

  With the Strategos gone, Xenophon was now effectively the admiral of the fleet. Though he commanded no ship, it was his authority that compelled each crew and vessel to act. The better prepared they were for a defensive battle, the longer it would take them to be able to leave it.

  “I think this is the perfect time for...”

  “Topoteretes, I have something,” said the tactical officer.

  A flashing box appeared over a target and then vanished as quickly as it had arrived. More boxes flashed in dozens of directions, but none stayed up for longer than a few seconds.

  “Deactivate all automated tracking. Use your eyes,” said the Kentarchos well before Xenophon needed to intervene. Roxana leaned in closer.

  “It looked like they might finally be listening.”

  “There!” said one of the pentarchos.

  Eight small shapes appeared from behind a triple rock formation off the starboard bow. Then more came from the opposite direction. As expected, the ship’s automatic targeting and tracking system continued to lose lock on them, proving more an irritation than any kind of help.

  “They are tiny. What are they?” Kentarchos Cadmus asked.

  Xenophon strained his eyes until the scopes were able to magnify that one small sector of space. What confronted them was an odd assortment of craft that looked more like bugs than a spacecraft. The center mass consisted of three armored sections, with engines to the rear and triple wings pushed out from the middle. A small number of them carried long limb like antennae that hung below the body and crackled with energy.

  “They are ECM fighters. They will jam our communications and targeting systems, so the others can attack us with impunity,” said Roxana with horror.

  “Topoteretes,” said Auletes Alexandros, “An urgent message from Draco, the captured transport. They want to activate their FTL drive.”

  Xenophon twisted about and pointed to the officer.

  “No. Tell them if I detect any ship firing up their engines, I will disable them myself. Understood.”

  “Sir.”

  He looked back at the growing number of heavy fighters. They were much bigger and more substantial than the tiny things used by the Terrans. Xenophon wondered if something of their size might even be able to carry its own FTL engine.

  “Prepare to fire!” said the Kentarchos.

  A gentle hum reverberated through the ship as the plasma cannons reached their peak level of charge. The Kybernetes, a tall, blue-eyed Amazon, looked to Xenophon but then directed her conversation to her immediate superior officer.

  “Kentarchos, guns are ready. The automatic targeting matrix is off-line. We’re on full manual. The crew are our eyes and ears now.”

  She looked to Xenophon and eyed him up from head to toe. Xenophon felt oddly uncomfortable in the presence of the taller woman, but she turned away before he could speak.

  “Fighter squadrons are tagging enemy vessels. Optics are tracking them and relaying the data to the fleet,” said the tactical officer.

  Roxana was busily running through the icons, each one representing a target spotted by a gunner, pilot, or navigator in the fleet. Finally, she looked back at Xenophon.

  “Over a hundred targets, with more appearing.”

  Roxana shook her head in annoyance.

  “It’s as though they were waiting for the fleet to jump out so that we would be left with the rest.”

  “Yes,” agreed Xenophon, “and now we have no heavy capital ships to defend ourselves with. This is going to be rough.”

  Kentarchos Cadmus looked to them both.

  “They are moving in close. What are your orders? We could jump.”

  Xenophon shook his head. He was in charge of the fleet now, and though his head told him to jump and jump fast, he knew that hasty action could see them all killed. They were a small force, but they were strong, even without the capital ships to protect them.

  “No chance. To jump we will have to reposition, expose our flanks, and bring back our fighters. Our shields will also have to be dropped.”

  He pointed the growing number of enemy vessels.

  “We will hold the line, no matter what. We will fight or die together. If one ship breaks ranks, we will die. It is like any other Terran battle, and this is why we continue to win.”

  Xenophon then tapped his earpiece.

  “All ships will hold position at their allocated marker. Any vessel breaking formation will consider their profits and earnings from this expedition forfeit. You wil
l hold the Kyklos, and we will prevail.”

  In the eleven minutes it took for the entire fleet to position correctly, the enemy had moved in and deployed in a dozen groups around the Terrans. Another force of the same number moved in to provide an additional reserve for the enemy.

  “Gods. If we stay, they will run us down like dogs,” said one of the junior gunnery officers.

  Xenophon gave Roxana a nod, and she marched off to find him. In seconds, she was alongside the hawkish looking man.

  “You are relieved. Now get off this deck.”

  The man turned to face her and opened his mouth to protest.

  “I said, get off, now!”

  The man looked to Kentarchos Cadmus, but he found no support, not even from that familiar quarter. Xenophon paced along the deck, checking the crew stations and displays while continuing to send orders to the other ships.

  “That’s it, good. Target the nearest vessels as soon as they come into range. Do not spread your shots. A damaged ship can still fight. Whittle them down, and show them what Terran discipline is like.”

  Without warning or any kind of hint, the first wave of fighters hit the Kyklos formation like hail striking a roof. Over a hundred fighters moved in at close range and opened fire with plasma weapons. They started shooting from long range, but that made little difference against the static formation adopted by the Terrans. By maintaining the Kyklos, they had given up any chance of fighting a battle of manoeuver. The first barrage struck the outer circle of ships evenly, with flashes of energy as shields took the brunt of the attack. Kentarchos Cadmus looked to Xenophon for reassurance.

  “Every single one of their shots is hitting us. We’re sitting ducks.”

  “Yes, we are,” agreed Xenophon, “But they have little chance against our shielding and armor. Stand firm, and do not break. If we hold, we will win, I promise you.”

  The fighters moved in at high-speed and then banked away at the last minute as they released missiles and torpedoes. The craft were small and their weapons of modest power. Even so, they scattered through the fleet in such numbers that at least four struck a transport and set off a series of explosions on one of the primary decks. Volleys of defensive fire blasted back at the smaller craft, but with such heavy electronic jamming, the manual gunfire was having a hard time trying to track them. Roxana moved alongside Xenophon, watching with him as the enemy continued to send in waves of the large fighter craft to attack them.