Black Legion: 05 - Sea of Fire

by Michael G. Thomas

  “Kentarchos, they’ve broken through!” yelled the tactical officer.

  It was too little, too late, though. The first six fighters came in close, their guns firing long bursts before the first of them ignited its primary engines and rushed in toward the port flank of the light cruiser.

  “No!” yelled the Kentarchos.

  Every single gun on the ship opened fire at point-blank range. Two more fighters exploded and sent the broken remains against the hull of the cruiser.

  The impact was massive and threw anybody standing to the floor. Xenophon smashed into the nearest wall and would have been knocked unconscious if he’d not been wearing his spatharios uniform. Steam vented from collapsed pipes, and multiple units tore apart from the internal trauma.

  “Shields gone, there are more coming in behind them!” shouted the tactical officer.

  Xenophon lifted himself up on one leg, and Roxana came from nowhere to help him up. Another series of shocks rocked the vessel but none as bad as the previous attack. He moved to the Kentarchos and looked at the lines of information moving about the VOB system. Kentarchos Cadmus spotted him alongside Roxana.

  “They’ve disabled our engines, and the larger ship has attached itself to our outer hull.”

  He shook his head in astonishment.

  “I think they mean to board us.”

  Not even Xenophon could hide his surprise. The Carduchians were many things, but frontline warriors were not one of them. The very idea of an enemy attempting to move in and attack a Terran ship was something of an anathema to all of them.

  “These are no savages,” said Xenophon.

  He lifted his right arm and activated the blade. It punched out with speed and glistened in the flashing lights of the command deck.

  “I will lead them into the primary connecting corridor, level three. It will be easiest way to get extra troops in if we need them. The lack of space will negate their numbers, I hope.”

  The Kentarchos nodded in agreement.

  “Yes, that is the most direct route through the ship. There are junctions and blast doors at every stage. You are not planning on meeting them in the hangar?”

  Xenophon grinned.

  “Kentarchos. Have you ever fought one of these machines before? Because I know I haven’t. If they are anything like the legends, they are big, fast, and strong. The last thing we need is to give them space to fight in.”

  He licked his lips in anticipation.

  “I intend on facing them down the old Laconian way.”

  Kentarchos Cadmus grinned at this.

  “Ah, the old cave plan. Is it not?”

  Roxana heard this part and looked less than amused.

  “Xenophon, this is no bear hunting party. If you draw them into a tunnel, you have to be prepared to fight them to the death. There will be no escape.”

  Kentarchos Cadmus looked in agreement with her also.

  “You are both correct. If they make it past you, they can break out through the entire ship. Tell me when you are there, and I will seal the sections behind you. This will not be an easy fight.”

  Images of ancient Terrans armed with long spears flooded into Xenophon’s mind. It was a common tale on almost every Terran world, but the Laconians prided themselves on their skill at tackling the most ferocious beasts. They would chase a bear into its cave and hunt it down, knowing the creature had no way to escape. The same was also true for the warrior, and a cornered beast was always more dangerous than one in the open. He began to doubt himself, and his breathing increased quickly.

  “Good luck, my friend. I will do what I can to keep us in the fight.”

  He moved closer to Xenophon and placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. He was less heavily armored than Xenophon, but he still wore his breastplate and greaves. His hands were open and unprotected.

  “I have just thirty spatharii on board and a dozen stratiotes. They are all experienced and trained in maritime operations. Use them wisely, Topoteretes. I have no more.”

  Xenophon felt his mouth go dry at the words. He had only just led the remnants of the fleet in what appeared to be a successful battle, and now he would have to lead a mixed force of Terrans in a pitched land battle, out in the middle of the Carduchian Wilderness. If they lost the ship, then both he and Roxana would be dead, and with it the chance for the rest of the fleet to make it home.

  Artemas, Glaucon, and Tamara. They will never see their homes again if the fleet follows Chirisophus for the rest of the journey.

  It was the first time he’d ever really looked at it that way, and it pained him to realize that he had no faith in the Laconian keeping them alive. The Strategos was obviously a mighty warrior, perhaps the greatest in the entire fleet. But time and time again he had proven he lacked judgment or even the finer points of strategy.

  He is not the man to lead us home. I have to do that.

  The simple realization that his own life had a greater value than just to him was something of a revelation. He could see the Kentarchos was watching him but clearly had no idea of the mental anguish the man was going though.

  “Understood, Kentarchos. I will not fail you or the fleet. I promise I will get the Legion out of the Median Empire. We will not die in this wilderness.”

  Xenophon moved away from him and ignored the look on the man’s face. He had neither asked about the fleet or his long-term plan. He and his officers watched the Topoteretes leave and then turned back to their computer systems.

  “Okay, Ladies and Gentlemen. We have a battle to win, and a ship that’s dead in the water with no shield and only six guns left firing isn’t going to do it now, is it?”

  His voice was firm but incredibly calm. Xenophon listened to his words as he went to the side of the command deck. His boots made a gentle clunk sound as he passed the banks of computers and the state of the art VOB system. As he left the room, he looked down and checked the Laconian shield unit on his left arm was functioning. It was connected directly to the bulky power unit attached to his back. Two more spatharii fell in behind him, as well as Roxana who had left her previous position.

  “No, I need you here.”

  Roxana continued to walk alongside him.

  “No chance, you are going to need every warrior you can get your hands on.”

  He considered pressing the issue but then decided against it.

  How can she command the fleet if we’ve lost the ship?

  “Very well, all of you, with me.”

  * * *

  The primary connecting corridor was a mundane name for one of the least interesting parts of the ship. Wide enough for four men to march side by side, it was still narrow, with piping running down one side. Access hatches were placed at ten-meter intervals, and there were three intersections that led off into other parts of the ship. Xenophon had reached the last one and stopped to check his position. This part of the ship opened out with a ramp on one side leading up to a secondary shaft. A wide access door faced them down a shorter passageway to the left and led out into the port hangar.

  “If they want to take this ship, they will have to come through here first,” he said.

  A young Arcadian moved to his flank. He wore the traditional panoply of the spatharii, with heavy armor and a Doru rifle in his arms. His helmet was scratched so badly it was hard to find even a single section that was undamaged.

  “Are we waiting here?”

  Xenophon looked to him and nodded.

  “You will form a phalanx twenty meters from the doors, back there in the main passageway.”

  He pointed behind them where the passageway ran into a T-junction.

  “I want you right there, just around the corner, and out of sight. Position the shield generators and prepare yourselves.”

  He looked to Roxana.

  “Take command of them and hold them here. I’ll bring the machines to us.”

  She nodded and Xenophon looked to the others.

  “You two Arcadians will come wi
th me.”

  The men looked confused, but they stepped forward in silence. They bore the insignia of their own state, but their weapons told a different story. Both were armed with Arcadian blasters, a kind of hybrid pistol and shotgun. They were rare outside of Arcadia and considered unreliable, though very powerful. What surprised him was that they were also carrying shield generators in the Laconian fashion, just as he did.

  "When did you start carrying shields?"

  The nearest smiled.

  "After Cunaxa we decided we would adopt some of the Laconians tactics. The equipment was...well, recovered from the battlefield. But Sir, what if they...”

  Xenophon lifted his hand.

  “I will get their attention and bring them to you. Make sure you are all ready. Not even a machine can stand against a Terran shield wall. Understood?”

  Each of the warriors agreed, without a single one of them betraying a moment's hesitation. One of the Arcadian soldiers was already placing a generator on the ground and activating the unit. It emitted a high-pitched tone that increased in pitch until moving out of the audible range. Xenophon moved closer to the blast door and then checked his flanks. He would have been much happier with Glaucon at his side, but knowing his friend was with Tamara and Artemas gave him a lot less to worry about.

  I just hope that old Laconian fool is listening to Artemas for a change. We can ill afford another Iraj.

  The two Arcadians bore the marks of multiple battles, and each lowered their blasters and then tapped the buttons on their arms to activate their shields. A dull flicker appeared in front of them as the half-shields powered up.

  "We are ready, Topoteretes," said the older of the two.

  Only then did Xenophon notice that it wasn't a man at all. The woman's long hair had been tucked down into the back plate of her armor, but as she moved, a small tuft pulled out. She was a good degree taller than Xenophon, and from her build he might easily have thought she more likely to be one of the Arcadian champions.

  "Your name?"

  "Desma of Mantinea," she said in a humorless fashion.

  Xenophon raised an eyebrow at the mention of that infamous world. Mantinea was technically part of the Arcadian League, yet they were as likely to fight their old enemy the Laconians, as they were their own allied states such as Tegea and Megalopalis.

  He then looked to the shorter Terran on his left.

  "And you?"

  "Antikles, Topoteretes."

  The man then looked to his Arcadian comrade.

  "...of Arcadia."

  Xenophon did his best to hide his smile. The man was clearly one of those that would consider himself a New Man, much like Glaucon did back on Attica. He saw the League as the way forward, and had turned his idea of nationality away from his world and to the greater power of the allied League.

  The fools. The disagreement between the two of you is a reminder why the League will always fail. As many think they will benefit from it as those that think they will lose!

  He shook his head and looked back at the blast door.

  "This will not take long. Take no risks, but make sure you get their attention. Are you ready?"

  Both of them nodded and positioned themselves into a braced position. With the heavy generators on their backs, they would be slower than the stratiotes, and probably even the Laconian spatharii.

  "With me!" Xenophon said.

  He activated the control panel, and the blast door hissed upward into the ceiling. All three of them expected to find the enemy, but instead they ran straight into the path of dust and steam.

  "Stay close."

  Xenophon went inside, and the two Arcadians followed closely behind. They made it a few meters as the mist began to clear. None of them carried lamps. If anything else, it would simply serve as a way to identify themselves to the enemy. This section of the hangar was lit from powerful lamps fitted directly into the high ceiling. The odd effect was that of a widening cone that provided dull yellow and white circles on the floor.

  "Topoteretes!" Desma cried out.

  Xenophon instinctively stepped to the right, where he would find protection from his comrade in the phalanx. It was a habit he had learned from fighting in the phalanx, especially with the Laconians, due to them all fighting right-handed and with their personal shields protecting their left sides. It was always the responsibility of the man on the right to protect his kin to the left. Unlike other fighting systems, the power of the phalanx was not based on the individual, but on the unit. It was an ideal beloved by the Laconians and lamented by most other modernized states.

  Where are they?

  He moved his eyes from left to right, and then he saw something. Approaching from the middle of the hangar was the shape of a single machine. It could easily have been a Taochi warrior, but its skin was dull metal, and it lacked a discernible face. Its arms looked more like siege hammers, and it stomped forward slowly, one step at a time.

  "Shields front!"

  Xenophon adjusted his arm so that the shield protected him completely. He could make out his two comrades via his peripheral vision just two meters away on each side. If he hadn't checked on them, he might have missed the eight warriors moving in from the flanks in two groups. A sick feeling tore through his gut at seeing the bipedal forms, like sickening robotic skeletons but protected by abstract slabs of armor and carrying carbines in their arms.

  Robotic Domain warriors, they are real.

  A pulse of energy from the left tore into Antikles, and each impact vaporized flesh and armor with ease. The man moved too slowly to alter the direction of his shield, and he fell to the ground, a broken mess of melted and fused flesh and bone.

  "Desma!" he yelled, fearing for the life of the second Arcadian.

  Xenophon swung to his left and repositioned his shield arm just as the robots opened fire. Their carbines launched explosive energy rounds that smashed into his shield with great force. The third round knocked him back, but Desma jammed her foot against his so that they were standing back to back.

  "Kill them!" she grumbled.

  Xenophon pushed his right hand around the flickering shield and took rough aim with his Asgeirr-Carbine. As he pulled the trigger, the short-ranged pulse rounds ripped into the nearest of the machines. Each round bounced off the thick armor of its torso. He changed direction and targeted one of the arms. The rounds punched through the metal. He fired again and again until a lucky shot hit an arm joint at the shoulder, and it dropped down loosely, lifeless, and disconnected from the body. The machine stopped and looked over to its deactivated arm.

  Now, put it down for good!

  His training kicked in as he remembered his lessons going right back to Kratez. He had to disable, nullify, or eliminate a wounded enemy, or they would still be combat effective.

  It's better to face one enemy, than three injured enemies.

  The words flooded through his mind as though he was actually back on Attica. It wasn't that long ago, but it felt like thirty years had past since his teenage years. Xenophon took much more careful aim and then put six rounds into the chest of the damaged machine. A burst of blue sparks erupted from the torso, and it slumped to the ground, yet it was still operational and took aim with its weapon. With a grinding sound, it lifted back up by using an arm as an improvised leg. It made the creature look like some sickening beast, all twisted and out of shape.

  "Good shooting, Sir," said Desma.

  Unlike Xenophon, she was far less concerned about where she put her shots. The first blast had taken off a limb, and then she fired repeatedly until running out of ammunition. With a well-practiced gesture, she dropped the weapon to her thigh and over the top of an extended magazine feed. It clicked in, and she proceeded to open fire again. Round after round from the blaster ripped into the machines, and soon another of them dropped to half speed, with dozens of holes punched through its plating.

  "They are hurt, but all of them are still in the fight," said Xenophon.

 
He licked his upper lip in frustration.

  "Fall back!"

  They moved back a pace at a time, with their bodies touching so they knew they were protected. The six remaining robots were close enough now and concentrated their fire onto the shields. Xenophon staggered, stumbled, and then went down, the weight of the fire proving too much. Something grabbed him, and then Desma had him up on his feet and heading for the open blast door. He lifted his right arm and then spotted the larger of the machines. Behind the five humanoid robots was the large one, a real armored monster with hammer shaped limbs. It extended one toward Xenophon and said something in a dull, machine like voice. Xenophon opened fire and then pushed with his legs as hard as he could.

  "Run!"

  It took seconds to make it through, and then the two of them were storming ahead, both with their weapons lowered and ignoring what was coming behind them. They reached the T-junction and turned right, and right into the thick row of Terran warriors. Light glimmered along the front from the multiple static shield generators. The outlines of the individual shields showed up like medieval mantlets, the kind of large shield used to protect troops in those ancient battles and sieges.

  "We're ready," said Roxana.

  "Where's Antikles?" asked another.

  Xenophon stepped in behind the shield wall, and Desma did the same. Once into position, they both activated their shields to add an additional layer of protection to the existing wall. It now offered a rough energy field wall that was just over a meter and a half tall at its highest point. There were small gaps where each section overlapped, but it was good enough.

  "He's dead," said Desma sternly.

  Desma then reached for one of the six ammo packs on the ground and pulled out three clips. She pushed two into the empty slots on her flank, and the third she placed on the ground next to her before spotting Xenophon watching her.

  "What? I like to have extra, just in case."

  Xenophon tilted his head and grinned in amusement. His expression became more serious as the sound of the machines became louder. This time it was the heavy clunk of metal feet as they made their way out of the hangar and toward the intersection. One of the Thessalian soldiers laughed at her, but she threw him a withering stare that stopped him in his tracks.