Black Legion: 02 - Assault on Khorram (18 page)

“Of course, as a citizen with a record of violence against the state, you will be required to pay a tithe of twenty percent of all recovered material direct to the local satrap of whichever region you are in. Ten percent stays locally, and the other ten goes directly to the Emperor.”

“Twenty? Our agreement was for ten.”

Ariaeus smiled back at him.

“Nobody forced you to start your little operations against both our territory and that of the Terrans. You are required by Imperial Law to made reparation payments. You are, of course, welcome to stay and explain your actions to Cyrus. He will be here shortly.

“And my station?”

Ariaeus paused, knowing full well that his new partner had little bargaining space left. He needed the freedom to travel through the Imperium, but not as much as he needed his own neck.

“We will discuss the station after we have dealt with Clearchus and his friends. Now, are your drones ready?”

* * *

The first dromon swept in passed the atmospheric shielding and landed deep inside the main landing area. It was a perfect example of precision flying, with the dromon itself landing in half the time it would take for even a small shuttle to normally do the exact same job. No sooner had the skids touched metal were the honour guard of spatharii unloaded. A full fifty-man unit, each an elite warrior from the Titan Valediction and dressed in Laconian armour. Against the bright crimson was the dark grey uniform of the Legion. They pushed out in a thirty metre wide arc in front of the vessel and activated their shields. A bright glow flickered in front of the formation that was now rendered almost impenetrable by the power fields.

It took a second craft to bring in Clearchus and Cyrus, and even then only after the first had left and the landing zone was considered secure. As the next vessel arrived, another thirty warriors stepped out, but this time they moved out ahead in small skirmish groups of five. Cyrus and Clearchus stepped from the starboard door, both wearing their full regalia for the visit. Clearchus was taking no chances and was fitted out as if he expected a full-scale battle. The combination of thick armour and his large build marked him out as a monster of a man. In contrast, Cyrus was lithe and almost weak-looking in comparison. He also wore armour, but his was the close-fitting material worn by most senior Medes. Rumour had it that the armour could withstand even close range pulse fire, but Clearchus was dubious. He moved forward, but Cyrus held back, waiting for his own unit of Median bodyguards to move around him before stepping away from the dromon.

“Is there a problem?” asked Clearchus, instantly suspicious of Medes deception.

Cyrus looked from left to right, his eyes examining the area with great scrutiny.

What’s he up to?
Clearchus, for a moment, suspected the Medes noble might be about to release some kind of weapon or machine.

“Something isn’t right. Ariaeus said he had taken the station, but look around you. How many casualties do you see?”

Clearchus looked off to his left where a series of black marks indicated the after-effects of a gun battle. Two combat drones lay in smashed heaps with chunks of metal and electronics scattered around them. He moved closer to investigate. Cyrus, as well as his bodyguards, followed close behind. Upon reaching the first debris, he bent down to examine it.

“Well?” asked Cyrus.

 
He looked at it, but at first glance it was hard to tell. The use of combat drones had been outlawed for a very long time in the Terran worlds. This particular unit seemed relatively old fashioned, especially by the account of its joints and motor units.

“Looks old, I’d say seventy years, maybe more. It looked similar to the sentry drones we encountered back in your last invasions, reliable, but poor on skills and intelligence. There is one like this in the state museum on Laconia.”

“So potentially black market units, then?” he asked.

Clearchus shrugged and looked back. There were blue markings amongst the shoulder mounting that looked familiar. He moved closer, but a sound caught his ear. None of the other Terrans picked it up, but it was one he was intimately familiar with.

“Capacitors!” he shouted and hurled himself towards Cyrus. The two crashed to the ground and their bodyguards rushed in, assuming the worst. The high pitched squeal became almost deafening until followed by a large crack. A blue energy field rippled across the entrance to the landing zone and anything caught in its path was sliced in half. One of the dromons and three spatharii were caught out.

“Strategos, to us!” cried one of the Dekarchos in charge of the combat unit. Six warriors rushed over to the fallen leaders and placed their own bodies and personal shields before them and the potential enemy. The expected weapons fire never arrived though, and they were able to stand and examine their predicament. The open landing space contained the single large unit of spatharii and the small squads of troops that had spread out to clear the area. Apart from Cyrus and Clearchus, the only others present were five Medes guards. Clearchus tapped his right arm and removed the safety from his Asgeirr-Carbine. As it powered up, the razor sharp blade fitted to the weapon extended forwards. In his right arm, his personal shield unit powered up and created a shimmering shield like those of the rest of the spatharii.

The large doors in front and to their sides opened up with a hiss. From their position in the landing bay, they were at least a hundred metres from each of the openings. The Laconian infantry altered their stances so that no man left his flank exposed to the potential threat. Clearchus marched to the largest group and stood on the right flank with his own weapon pointed directly at the door in the centre. Cyrus and his guard unit ran over to him and positioned themselves in the centre.

“Lord Cyrus, order your men to throw down their weapons!” came a familiar voice. Clearchus didn’t seem to notice, but to Cyrus it was as though the man was stood right next to him.

“Menon!” he spat out as though he had almost swallowed a mouth of venom.

On hearing the name of the Medes criminal, Clearchus realised they were in a serious situation. He looked back over his shoulder at the energy field that had cut off their escape route to any of the dromons.

Dammit, we’ve got ourselves into a stupid position,
he thought before smiling to himself.
At least it is as I expected, now we just need to turn this to our advantage.

Clearchus tapped the communication button on his arm and instantly connected through to the Valediction.

“Kleandridas, have you been monitoring our situation?”

“Of course, Strategos,” came back the instant response from his deputy.

Cyrus looked back to him, waiting expectantly for Clearchus to give the signal.

“Do it!” said Clearchus, barely able to contain his excitement.

Nothing happened immediately, and to the spatharii it appeared they might have done something wrong. From each of the darkened bulkhead doorways emerged the great hulk of heavy combat drones. These were not like the models they had seen smashed and broken around Ariaeus. Standing a metre taller than the Terrans, these bipedal machines were tough, slow and by the look of the weapons fitted to their shoulders, very well armed. More machines clanked forward until eight of the vast machines stood in a loose crescent formation to face off against the huddled Terrans. A voice boomed through the landing bay.

“This is Menon. As you can see, this station is under my protection. I have taken control of this sector, and you are here under force of arms. You will either leave or join me for a discussion on your plans. Either way, Lord Cyrus will stay here.”

Cyrus was about to say something, but Clearchus simply grimaced and indicated with his hand for him to stay silent. The spatharii waited behind their shimmering shields, the slight buzz from their generators betraying their readiness. Clearchus himself looked down briefly at his Asgeirr-Carbine. It was charged and ready, but even so, he had to be sure. A gentle tone in his ear announced another message from Kleandridas.

“Strategos, we are burning through, ten seconds.”

He nodded to himself but said nothing. The communication node was a useful and discrete way to communicate, but he wanted to give nothing away in such a dangerous situation. The nearest combat drone took a step forward and pointed its heavy weapons directly at the large group of Terrans. The weapon had the look of the heavy pulse cannons fitted to many fighters, yet this one consisted of a pod containing dual-linked weapons.

“I will not ask again!” said the familiar voice of Menon.

There was no need to reply though as a series of loud bangs and screams of metal tore through the landing bay. It wasn’t clear what was going on, but the shudder through the floor made it clear something major was going on.

“Strategos, we’re in!” said Kleandridas through the communication node. It was the message he had been waiting for, and Clearchus didn’t hesitate. He lifted his Asgeirr-Carbine in the air and cried out to his warriors.

“Forward!”

He pushed forward, but his warriors were already moving, like runners waiting for a starting pistol. Unlike any other Terran military force, the Laconians trained for war every day of their lives. Rather than practice their shooting from behind cover, they made it their mission to close with the enemy where they could use their greater skills, training and strength to their advantage. Leading from the front was the battle-experienced Komes Artemis, a renowned Laconian officer and the senior commander of the unit. He pushed ahead along with the entire main unit, each separated by about a metre. The loose formation surged towards the combat drones with speed and efficiency that impressed even Clearchus. The Strategos himself moved with them, barely two metres behind the leading warriors. Cyrus and his bodyguard moved to the large bulkheads along the left-hand side where there was more cover and provided light but effective weapons fire from range.

“To me!” shouted Komes Artemis as he reached the first drone. Menon must have been confused or distracted as the machines didn’t open fire until the Laconians were at their feet. The open space between the two sides was quickly replaced with fifty spatharii with Clearchus and the dozen heavy combat drones.

Two of the spatharii knelt down before the first drone and lifted up their energy shields for protection. The Komes jumped onto them and leapt up, his shield still active and moving with him as he jumped up the shoulder of the machine. He smashed his shield into the robot’s armoured head, sending cracking blue sparks of electricity around them both. Before he started to drop back, he slammed the monofilament tip of his Asgeirr-Carbine into its collar. The engineering and precision quality of the weapon allowed its charged and powered tip to bury nearly ten centimetres inside. As he hung from the top of the drone, it opened fire, the heavy weapons mount blazing away at the group of Terrans. At this range most shields would be ineffective, but the Laconians carried the heaviest shielding known to the Terrans. Round after round bounced from their energy fields and then they were amongst them. Close ranged pulse carbine fire ripped holes in metal armour, and one by one the Terrans overwhelmed the machines.

“Bring it down!” cried the Komes as he pulled the trigger on his weapon. A dozen pulse projectiles ripped through the innards of the machine, yet still it kept fighting. A streak of blue energy erupted from the shoulder of the drone, and two Terran warriors flew back and to the floor. Before they could stand, a second drone tore them apart with a long, continuous volley of gunfire.

“Laconians, as one!” called out Clearchus, and he waded into the battle. He pushed forward and attacked the drone that Komes Artemis was still attached to. He stabbed at the joints in the leg and fired away with the carbine, doing as much damage as he could. He spotted one of the drones moving into the middle of the landing bay, its weapons firing in random directions while three Terrans stabbed and fired at close range. It collapsed, and in seconds they finished it off on the ground. He looked up to his own foe to find the head of the machine staring directly at him.

These are tough little machines.

He delivered a powerful uppercut that embed his blade in the top of the machine and emptied the rest of the magazine of his carbine into its head. The force of the gunfire snapped its head backwards and freed his carbine. Even so, it was able to swing with its left arm, and Clearchus barely managed to turn his shield before he was hit. The impact was like running into a wall, and he was thrown to the ground on his back.

“Strategos, look out!” cried one of the spatharii through his communication node. His vision was blurred, but he didn’t think and just used whatever energy and strength reserves remained. He rolled to one side, just as the bulk of the metal monster crashed down on top of his previous hiding place. Two of the Terrans helped him up, and as his vision cleared, he could see the shape of four remaining drones battling the large number of Laconians. His head pounded from the pain of the impact, but he allowed himself a smile at the fact his men were able to take on and actually defeat such powerful things. They had fallen back and were retreating to the larger of the doorways. To hold back the Terrans, the machines were firing every last weapon at them, creating a rain of fire that forced the Laconians to hunker down behind their shields. A wide burst of pulse cannon rounds forced him to his knees, and he ducked to avoid the fire. Only the shielding of the men in front saved him from a quick and ignominious death at the hands of the drones. He aimed at the nearest and tried to shoot back, but the defensive fire was too great.