Black Legion: 04 - Last Stand (2 page)

“Sensors are going crazy. They’ve spotted us!” called out the tactical officer.

Kybernetes Maxentius twisted his head around to look at the Kentarchos, but the man was already speaking.

“Full power to engines, bow shields at one-hundred and fifty percent. Ready our weapons.”

It was standard procedure in battle to boost the shields, but the extra power going to the bow implied he expected an attack from their target. The excitement turned quickly back to routine as they covered the distance using their conventional engines. The jump-drive would use up far too much fuel and also move them right past their target. There was also the problem of the lack of shielding if they dropped out right next to an enemy vessel. Ezekiel Manus felt confident, but only for moment. Then came the news he’d been dreading.

“Sir, she’s ghosting!”

He paused and considered the information. It wasn’t completely unexpected, but at least he now knew.

“Prep the fighters and stay on our present course.”

The tactical officer seemed surprised and had to be nudged along by the Kybernetes.

“Keep on the job. The Kentarchos knows what he’s doing.”

The tactical officer had to double as the fighter controller, due to the reduced crew and facilities aboard the light cruiser. Normally, a vessel such as this one would carry a single fighter for reconnaissance work, but its design had been much improved. It was capable of carrying four craft, as well as four dromons in armoured pods on each side of the ship. The pods had been installed for later models so they could carry additional craft and troops, but right now they all wished they had access to greater firepower.

“Seafires are loaded and waiting for the signal, Kentarchos.”

The Seafires were single-engine fighters that had been modified from their normal use as space station defence craft to work on board small ships and carriers. They were fast, agile, and heavily armed for their size. With two sets of quadruple pulse cannons, they were powerful enough to deal with any fighter, Terran, or Medes. Unlike the heavy fighters used in the rest of the fleet, however, they were poorly equipped to deal with capital ships, and their range was poor. They would be critical in a battle if it was against other fighters or a missile armed opponent and perfect for attacking decoys, missiles, and drones.

“Good, keep them ready. They may well be needed.”

The Kentarchos looked back at the largest display that mimicked a front view of the ship. The electronic interference and jamming made it impossible to identify anything about it, but the long-range cameras had finally found something and locked on it.

“Focus in, now,” he said.

The excitement in his voice was clear, and all the officers remained silent as they waited for the cameras to lock down on the target. The image moved into focus and then out again before finally fixing on the shape. It filled the screen and showed considerable detail even though it was poorly lit.

“I know it, a Medes light cruiser.”

“I concur,” said the tactical officer.

A couple of seconds was all it took to cross-reference the information with what they already had on file. The computer compared the key features and came up with an almost perfect match. Even so, the officer checked the specification manually before passing on the analysis. It wouldn’t be the first time the computer had got it wrong.

“My files show it is a Khanda class light cruiser, a standard class of warship in the Imperial Navy. We have records of over three hundred variations of the design. This one is the smallest.”

The Kentarchos examined the imagery carefully.

“Specification?”

“Estimated crew of seventy automatons, and a handful of Median officers if it is the scout model. Some assault models are equipped for station attack with internal bays for Taochi boarding parties.”

Ezekiel Manus didn’t like the sound of the latter design at all. He was sparsely crewed himself, and he’d heard accounts of the Taochi in battle on Cunaxa. Apart from looking like something from Terran myth, he knew full well they were strong, tough, and brutes in close combat. He wiped his jaw and looked to the flanks of the ship.

“So, no fighters and light weaponry.”

“Affirmative, Kentarchos.”

Manus nodded to himself as he assimilated all the information. There was a chance, only a faint one that this vessel was an assault vessel, but he quickly discounted it. Why would such a vessel be out alone? The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that this was a heavy scout ship.

“They are no match for us, not on their own.”

The tactical officer brought up a number of options with each highlighting potential weaknesses on the ship.

“If we were to jam their communications, we could move in quickly, disable her engines, and then...”

“What exactly?”

“Either board her, destroy her, or use the opportunity to escape.”

Manus’ lip twitched at this information. The opportunity to take on a single light cruiser was something not to be taken lightly, but he did rather like the idea of taking one as a prize. He scratched at his cheek and then nodded to him.

“Very well. I want her jammed before we’re detected. Use all the power we have left and keep her locked down. Under no circumstances can we let this ship relay information back to its masters.”

He then looked to the tactical officer.

“I don’t want her captured. I don’t even want her damaged. It does us no good to leave her out there to send information back or even to follow us.”

He moved his attention back to the ship on the screen.

“I want nothing but her complete and utter destruction. Do you understand me?”

The man nodded in agreement and moved back to his consoles. Kybernetes Maxentius moved in to take his place alongside the commander.

“Kentarchos, we will be in range in less than nine minutes.”

“Good,” he replied, “this needs to be done quickly. Are they jammed?”

The Kybernetes nodded quickly.

“Aye, Sir, they are on their own, for now.”

Drakonis travelled at her fastest speed towards the vessel. The engines burned white hot, yet it would still take nearly nine minutes to get close enough to fire the powerful plasma guns at her at a distance where they couldn’t be avoided. Ezekiel Manus gave himself a moment’s respite as he looked at the black shape of the scout. It was completely different to that of the Terran vessel, small, sleek, and nearly impossible to see in space. In many ways, he preferred the configuration to that of his new ship.

It’s still a Median ship though, and filled with their slaves. They are worthy of nothing but our contempt.

He imagined the look on the automatons’ faces when the Terran ship appeared out of nowhere and unleashed all her weapons against the unsuspecting ship. He could visualise the impact of the beams and cannons, and the more he imagined it, the more he wanted to see it. That was the moment he sensed something was wrong. His heart felt as though it pulsed with adrenalin, and he swallowed uncomfortably, instantly dreading to know what was happening.

“What is it?”

The colour in the tactical officer’s face seemed to drain away.

“Uh, Sir, I’ve got something.”

The young man shook his head nervously as he spoke. There was no need for him to say anything more, as the tactical board lit up like some kind of high-intensity decoration. First there were indicators to the left, and then it filled with a hundred shapes in all directions.

“Gods, it’s a fleet!”

The mood transformed inside the ship as the officers rushed to ensure all their stations were responding, but it was too late, and a long continuous tone howled through the vessel, warning an imminent threat.

“Everything to shields!” snapped the Kybernetes.

A dull vibration announced the massive increase in power being sent to the shield generators. Even with the engines pumping power to the defensive systems, it wasn’t enough. The ship shuddered violently, and then all hell broke loose inside. Sirens blared loudly, and two screens vanished in a flash of broken glass. Another explosion rippled along the right-hand side of the command deck, and one of the junior officers staggered and fell to floor, leaving a growing pool of blood around his head. Ezekiel Manus grabbed at the straps at his seat while surveying the scene.

“Tactical, report!”

The tactical display showed scores of new vessels in the area around the light cruiser. The status display showed where impacts had been sustained through the ship, and each red mark left a lump in his throat. He knew his ship was taking a beating and paying for it in the lives of his crew.

“Thirteen breaches in the outer armour. Shields are gone, and our port thrusters are out of action.”

Another great volley of gunfire hammered along the port side of the ship that ripped out one of the hangar sections and two of the smaller weapon turrets.

“Armour has gone. One more hit, and they’ll be through to our reactors!”

Ezekiel Manus could hear the fear in his tactical officer’s face and twisted about to look at his Kybernetes.

“Manus, we can’t stay here any longer. We’ve done our job, and we’re seconds from destruction. What are your orders?”

It was true. They had done their job, and done it well and without incident. After hours waiting in this barren, forsaken space sector, they’d ensured the fleet could move on for another two jumps in safety. All that mattered to him now was that his crew and his ship could expect the same. He didn’t even have to consider his next words.

“Jump!”

* * *

Imperial Palace, Babylon Prime, Core Worlds

Tissaphernes had visited Babylon Prime a dozen times before, but nothing could prevent him from standing still in astonishment at the wealth all around him. He had only just dressed following a deep sleep in his guest accommodation, yet the fragrant air and sweet perfumes almost encouraged him to return to the soft fabrics and comfort of the bed. He adjusted his clothing and signalled for the dozen female automatons waiting alongside his bed to approach. Each carried part of his regalia, though not one of them carried an object more offensive than a piece of armour. All weapons were forbidden in the Imperial Capital, and even the elite Anusiyan warriors that formed the bodyguard of the Emperor himself had screened him.

Ten thousand warriors, I don’t think so,
he mused angrily.

His arrival at the Palace had infuriated him when the legions of warriors had ceremoniously blocked his path to let four of their number approach and search him. It had been part of a ritual designed to remind all that none was above, or even equal to the Emperor himself. In theory, the Anusiya were ten thousand strong, but he had seen at least that number stationed on other worlds and half as many serving aboard the Elamites in Royal service. The more he thought about it, the more he realised the unit wanted to give the impression there were ten thousand wherever they happened to be.

So how many does he actually have?

He looked back into his spacious apartment complex and looked at the bed. There were fine silks drawn across the surface, each pulled taut by one of the many serving girls he had been supplied with. A small group of three female pleasure girls sent to him on the previous night waited for him in silence. He was tempted to return to them, but he had important work to do, and seeing this wealth reminded him of what he wanted for himself. The entire planet of Babylon Prime was the first planet of the Empire and the heart of the early Median Empire. Over time, the surrounding races and empires had been absorbed and classed as Satrapies, but none would ever doubt the power and importance of the Imperial Capital. He looked at the females once more and then shook his head, saying nothing to them.

Forget them, win the victory and glory will be all yours.

He walked to the nearest balcony on the middle floor of the obelisk shaped structure and looked out to the planet. Most outsiders assumed the world would be barren and ravaged from the scores of wars that had been fought on its surface over the millennia. Few knew how many millions of slaves had worked and died to create this unique paradise, a place built and dedicated to the power and memory of a single individual, the Emperor himself. Tissaphernes could see the city walls from where he stood, and its spires lifted up high into the sky. Unlike Cunaxa Secundus though, this was no military world. The barracks and shipyards of the Empire were all based on the adjacent worlds. There were only the Anusiya here. He looked up but could see nothing but the blue sky, plus a hundred orbital defence platforms and six star fortresses.