"Antikles didn't have his mind on the job. He didn't check his flanks, and now he is gone. Do not do the same."
Even Xenophon was surprised at her tone, and also of the way she demanded the respect of the other warriors. She bore no insignia, and as far as he could tell, she was just another volunteer for the Legion. The machines arrived, but not one at a time as might have been expected. Instead, all eight humanoid warriors rounded the corner and lifted their arms up to protect their torsos. They walked fast and directly toward the Terrans. They covered five meters and then stopped. The first four dropped to their knees, and their limbs folded up behind them so that that created a wall of thickly plated torsos. Reinforced bars extended out from the ribs to create additional layers of protection and to lock them together into an immobile wall.
“Take aim!” Xenophon called out.
Each of the Terrans took aim with a variety of pulse pistols, Doru rifles, Laconian carbines, and Arcadian blasters. The energy shield shimmered and flickered as some of them moved too close and touched the energy field with their weapons.
“Fire!”
The fusillade of fire was impressive. While the blasters sent great flumes of energy to the target, the other weapons put down an incredible weight of fire. Sparks marked the impacts against the four nearest machines. The next four moved up behind the first and then dropped down so that just the tops of their bodies were visible, using their comrades as a metal barrier, much like the shield generators used by the Terrans.
"Keep firing!"
The barrage of fire continued to tear into the machines, but now it was their turn. One by one the four at the back took aim with their terrifying weapons and discharged energy blasts at the shield wall. Each impact sent flashes of different colors that lit up the faces of the Terrans in the most peculiar hues. Finally, a pair of the powerful energy blasts struck the shields so hard that one of the generators exploded. Two Terrans were thrown to the ground, both suffering multiple bloody wounds. The failure of the generator left several breaches and weakened what remained.
Another blast struck at the breach just as Roxana tried to fill it with her own shield. The energy of the impact smashed her to the ground where she lay still. Xenophon looked at the wounded Terrans and tried to keep his eyes away from his friend.
“Get her back and maintain the wall!”
A pair of spatharii grabbed her legs and pulled her back, and Xenophon took the opportunity to focus his attention on the machines. One of them had taken enough damage that it lifted itself upright and began walking about in an erratic circle.
“Finish it!” Desma yelled.
She put three rounds into its left arm, and then a heavy volley of fire forced it to the ground. Return fire flashed back and managed to penetrate gaps in the shield wall, quickly incapacitating another two Terrans. Suddenly, the defenders numbers had dropped from thirty to twenty-six with five of them also lightly wounded.
Come on, this needs to change, thought Xenophon.
He pushed in another magazine and then spotted the shape he’d feared. It was the monstrous Taochi inspired robot. The thing walked out into the open space behind his line of defending robots and began barking orders. Xenophon took aim and fired. His rounds all struck home, but they either bounced off or penetrated a short distance into the machine’s plating. Luckily, another of the machines fell to the side, having sustained too much damage. The price was another dead spatharios, a young woman who took an energy blast directly in the collar. Desma looked to Xenophon and then nodded at the newly arrived machine.
“What’s the plan, Topoteretes?”
Xenophon looked at the machine and the pulse rounds that continued to bounce off its armor. It was safely positioned behind its wall of warriors, and as each second went by, the number of Terrans decreased. Visions of the terrible fighting at Marathon popped back into his head, the shapes of machines swinging heavy weapons and crushing Terrans in all directions.
We have to drive them back.
He tapped the button, and the blade on his right arm pushed out, glistening and deadly. He pointed to the weapon at the wall of machines and called out to his comrades.
“Advance, on my command!”
In almost perfect unison, they all reached for close ranged weapons. Many switched to pistols, but there were still some carrying blasters and carbines, and one even held in one hand a looted Taochi distortion knife. Xenophon was fascinated to see the pulsing blade, as it vibrated so quickly that it could slice through even the thickest armor. It was a big weapon, closer in size to a falchion or medieval messer.
“Step.”
The phalanx of Terrans moved forward just one step. Those few with shield generators moved at the front, while others carried their portable units with them. The machines continued to shoot, but with each shout the Terrans moved closer.
“Step.”
They were now just three meters away, a terrifying distance where they could make out each gear, bullet hole, and scratch on the armor plating of the machines. Xenophon looked at where there should have been a face on the commanding machine. The subtle green shade of the thing’s armor did little to make it look more alive. The head was more a dome that protruded out from the torso, and its only concession to living aesthetics was a pair of craters where its eyes might have been.
“Surrender,” it said in a cool, emotionless tone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Terran Titan ‘Valediction’, Bijar Prime, Carduchian Wilderness
The command deck of the Titan was busy, as it always was, but the senior officers were left alone. Lady Artemas watched them and shook her head, more in annoyance than frustration. She had not wanted to stay on this ship, surrounded by the sarcastic and embittered Laconians. She found little respect amongst most of them, yet Xenophon had insisted she stayed close to the Strategos, officially to assist him wherever he might need it. In reality he had meant very little.
We both know the problem with this fleet, and the problem is right there.
She looked upon the great titan of a man and wondered how things could have been so different.
He is the wrong man to lead this fleet. If only the Terrans could look past their default position of assuming all Laconians make good leaders.
She snorted, and that caught the ire of the Strategos. He looked at her, muttered, and then turned away from her. He was always uncomfortable around her, though that was hardly surprising. Lady Artemas felt just the same about him and his Laconians.
He might be a great warlord and warrior, but he is a terrible Strategos.
The Strategos commanded from the center of the deck, with the vast starscape all around him, courtesy of the VOB system. In the past the background had been dark and filled with beauty, now there was rock, dust, and debris in every conceivable direction. He grumbled in irritation and then moved to the side where Kentarchos Broge Monsimm, the ship's day-to-day commander was speaking with three more junior officers. They began a short discussion that at least kept the Strategos' eyes on them, rather than her.
"Are you okay?" Glaucon asked.
He'd been silent for some time but always had a close eye on her. She looked at him and widened her mouth into a discreet smile.
"I am absolutely fine. Thank you for asking."
Glaucon turned his eyes back to those nearest on the command deck. He was well treated as a fellow Terran and a warrior on the ship, but there was still the inevitable distrust that came with every one of the groups in the Legion. Lady Artemas looked down at the massive Carduchian facility with a stoic expression. It was clear she wasn't happy, but it was still difficult to gage exactly what was running through her mind. He spotted Chirisophus looking at her. He quickly noticed Glaucon, glowered, and then looked away. Strategos Chirisophus was not happy at having a Median noble so close to his operational center, but even he had to admit her information had been helpful, so far. He watched her carefully, watching for any sign of weakness that would reveal her tho
ughts. Finally, he gave up and sighed.
“I told you, Lady Artemas. If you cannot come up with an alternative, I will be forced to strip every single sector. I simply have no other choice, do I?"
It was a rhetorical question, and he launched directly into his next rant.
"Now I have scouting parties spread out, as per Xenophon's recommendation. We are moving slowly, and we are being outmaneuvered, all because of Attican caution. No wonder they were so easily beaten."
He didn't expect a reply; he was merely venting his frustration at what lay before them. Instead of the thriving commercial heart of the Carduchian Wilderness, they had arrived at a junkyard, bereft of food, fuel, or even people. Bijar was a name known even outside of the Empire and spoken of in the same reverent tone as Babylon. Yet what lay before them could just as easily have been an archaeological site from some ancient floating city. Even so, Artemas found his words amusing, especially his jibe about the war between the Laconians and the Atticans. She was no expert in the matter, but she did know it had been fought over three decades before a sneak attack had wiped out the bulk of the Terran Alliance's fleet.
"Look," he said finally, "It’s very simple. All they have to do is agree to trade with us on fair terms, and we will be happy to participate."
She shook her head in irritation.
"Why would they trade with the people that assaulted and looted the Iraj Outpost? Bijar is their capital, and they simply abandoned it."
“Cowards!” muttered the Strategos, even though he was barely listening to her.
“Why should we fear a people that refuse to defend their prized capital?”
They had spent the last hour examining the site for anything of value, but it had taken only minutes to confirm that the Carduchian regional capital had been abandoned long before the arrival of the fleet. The facility was exactly as she had described and was truly gigantic, with thirteen moon-sized platforms, each of them orbiting a gas giant planet. Of greater significance was the wreckage of an entire battleship that bore neither the markings of the Terrans or the Empire. Columns of dromons traveled from the Terran ships and down to the platforms to continue the looting. The Strategos pointed to the facility and almost growled as he spoke.
"Now we cannot trade because this entire site has been razed. These people place no value on their own territory and possessions, so I see no reason why I should either.”
He licked his mouth at an unfortunate time, quickly giving the impression he was savoring the idea of stripping the place. Amongst some of the Terrans this might have been accepted, perhaps even encouraged. But the Laconians were supposed to have no interest in wealth and decadence, things that would assist in the weakening of their own race. He finished licking his mouth and continued.
“Perhaps if Xenophon hadn't insisted on a slow, cautious advance, we might have arrived here more quickly and with our entire fleet."
Artemas opened her mouth to speak, but the ship’s auletes called out instead.
"Strategos, urgent message from Komes Xantos, with the fourth scout wing. They have reached the next fleet waypoint and have identified an ambush."
Artemas raised an eyebrow in amusement.
"Perhaps scouting wasn't such a mistake after all, Strategos."
The last word was biting, and she could tell he understood. It looked like he might move closer, and her muscles tensed just a little. Glaucon was less reserved, and she could see his hand moving to the pulse pistol at his side. Off to her left was Tamara. She had been silent since they'd arrived, but she could sense the teenager's eyes, and as always, she was watching everything like a hawk. Chirisophus sighed in frustration and then looked to his officer. He pointed at the nearest independent display unit.
"Put him on my screen, now."
An image from Komes Xantos appeared. The man's face was narrow, and his skin taut, almost stretched over his aged and well pronounced cheekbones.
"Strategos. We came in quietly and ran into the rearguard of an entire fleet."
"Carduchian?"
The man shook his head.
"No, Sir. There are different groups of ships, but we did spot a single Imperial Elamite, and it bears the markings of Artaxerxes himself. It looks like they were all waiting to hit us when the fleet made the next jump, and when we were out of fuel."
Chirisophus licked his lips. Artemas deliberately kept quiet, but it was clear to all of them that the Strategos had been saved by the careful planning of Xenophon. News like this would travel far through the Legion, and that would make things even tougher for their elected leader.
"Good work, Komes. Record everything you can and jump back via the alternate route. Don't let them follow you back."
"Yes, Strategos."
With that, the Komes was gone, and Chirisophus looked angrily toward Artemas. He opened his mouth and then closed it again. An image from the video feeds on the Bijar facility caught his eye. He connected directly to Komes Artemis and watched his personal video feed.
"Komes, report."
The footage showed a shaky image of a handful of the elite Laconian bodyguards, while off into the distance moved scores of other warriors. The background was dark and lit only from the device fitted to the warrior. It changed constantly as the man moved his head back and forth.
"Strategos. We have secured three landing sites. Seventy percent of their supplies are gone. The rest is either expired stock, contaminated, or buried deep. We have found one usable source, but it is taking time to reach it. The good news is there is more than twice as much as we need to reach the Sea of Fire."
The Strategos laughed with self-satisfaction and looked to Artemas.
"See, what did I tell you?"
He then looked back at the feed from his Komes.
The man's voice crackled as he moved about.
"The access shafts have been collapsed around it. It's like somebody went to a lot of trouble to render this site useless without the use of machinery and cutting equipment. We will need several days, perhaps a week to extract everything. There are a small number of stowaways down here. I could do with a translator."
Glaucon walked to the video screen and pointed at the broken corridors.
"This damage will cost the Carduchians dearly. This is not just a supply base; it is a regional capital, more like a floating city. It will take months, even years to repair, and riches beyond what Carduchia can afford.”
Artemas grimaced in agreement.
“Yes, this damage isn't to stop or, or even to impede our progress. This is the work of the Imperials and their plan is clearly obvious."
The Strategos raised his eyebrows in amusement, but Lady Artemas continued.
"Glaucon is correct, of course. Only the Emperor could finance such destruction. They must have offered the Carduchian great riches to make our lives difficult. The cost of rebuilding all of this is far more than it would cost to destroy us."
The Strategos signaled for one of his pentarchos to approach. He spoke to the man for a moment and then sent him off to get something. With a short pause, possibly to consider his next words, he then continued.
"So why leave enough fuel and supplies behind to maintain a fleet the size of ours? Surely if you are right, and Artaxerxes is behind this, then he is sending us a signal, and the message is that he will give us a clear route home.”
Lady Artemas almost choked with surprise at his comments. A Terran heavy cruiser caught her eye, and she deliberately focused her attention on it to hide her frustration. The vessel was truly massive; yet compared to the vastness of the abandoned floating city in space, it seemed insignificant. The Strategos was not letting it go though, and moved closer to her. She felt uncomfortable as he was so close, she could smell the mixture of oil and metal from his armor. He reached out to touch her, but she twisted at the last moment and narrowly missed his hand. He hissed in irritation.
“So, if this is the work of Artaxerxes, and assuming he wants us all dead, what is his plan
?”
He extended his hands outward and toward the facilities all around the fleet.
“Why not simply destroy all of it? Shatter the landing pads, burn the storage domes, and vent the habitation blocks out into space. Even the shipyards could be destroyed to stop us from performing repairs to our ships. Instead, they half cripple the place, and then you think they will pay off our enemies to do this? It doesn't add up."
Lady Artemas smiled at his lack of understanding. She wasn’t surprised, and the more she listened to him, the more she was convinced the Terrans had made a big mistake in choosing him as their leader.
"Yes, Strategos, it is true. You do not understand."
His face turned red in anger.
"Then perhaps you would like to enlighten me?"
She walked to the ever-present starmap on the command deck, activated the unit, and highlighted the waypoints they had selected to travel through the Wilderness. Their current position was just over halfway.
"The Emperor is no longer behind this operation. Have you not read the summary report I sent you from the intercepted Imperial traffic?”
Chirisophus smiled as though he was no more than a naughty child.
“My Lady, I am the Strategos, not a cleric. I do not sit around reading reports.”
Artemas knew he would have given little thought to her report, but even she hadn’t thought the man would be stupid enough to ignore what she had uncovered. Roxana and she had worked for more than a day in trying to decipher the codes used by the Empire, and for what?
“You requested local intelligence for our journey home. That is why I submitted the report, along with maps charting every location mentioned. And you ignored it?”
Chirisophus grinned. Artemas swallowed, and then did her best to ignore the slight.
“Then I will tell you again. The Emperor has his own problems. It would appear that every single Satrapy has been called upon to send ships for a grand fleet. Arteshban Rostam is commanding the fleet, the largest seen in more than a century.”
Black Legion: 05 - Sea of Fire Page 11