Black Legion: 04 - Last Stand (24 page)

“Xenophon!” grumbled a familiar voice.

He looked to his right, and there was the bulky form of Komes Artemis, resplendent in his Laconian armour, crimson cloak, and crested helm. A personal body shield shimmered on his left, and in his right hand he wore the close-fitted Asgeirr-Carbine, the weapon carried by all Laconian spatharii. The man’s face was grim; the kind he was used to of those professional soldiers that had joined the Legion.

“What are you doing here?”

The Laconian smiled.

“I’m ending this fight you started.”

He then looked to his right, signalling for his warriors to move ahead. These were no ordinary Laconians, however. These were the elite Epilektoi, the personal guards of the Laconian commander.

But that can only mean...

“I see you’ve cornered the rat.”

The shape of Chirisophus moved into view, along with dozens more of his warriors. Unlike Komes Artemis, his expression was dour. Xenophon nearly gulped at the sight of the man that seemed to despise him almost as much as the Median commander. Qahreman must have known who he was because he turned from Glaucon and moved directly towards the Laconian commander. His last few guards closed around him, each with shields raised and blades and rifles extended to their fronts.

“End this!” snapped Chirisophus.

The seven Laconian Spatharii moved as one shielded unit. Gunfire tore into their ranks, but not one round managed to break the shield. They pushed ahead at a quick walking pace until finally reaching a distance of a mere five metres.

“Now!”

The Laconians charged, and Xenophon found himself staring in awe as the fabled warriors crashed into Qahreman and his guards. The impact was like watching a heavy ground car hitting a wooden fence. The Medes were quickly scattered, and the Laconians dealt with them one at a time with mechanical precision. In less than ten seconds, four were dead and Qahreman stood alone. He still carried the pair of matched axes, both dripping with Terran blood.

“More blood for my noble Lord,” he said through clenched teeth.

Chirisophus smiled but refused to give the Median commander the luxury of a conversation. He was a Laconian and a master of war, he had no time or interest in starting a monologue with this officer.

“I will…” started Qahreman.

Chirisophus stepped forward and bashed his shield into Qahreman’s chest. Though he brought down his axes onto the shielded disk, it wasn’t enough to stop the forward drive of the Laconian. He smashed the shield again and then went to work with his Asgeirr-Carbine. The first penetration struck Qahreman in the detailed nipple of his beautiful armour. That wasn’t the end, far from it.

Chirisophus pulled back his right arm and stabbed again and again, the narrow blade punching through metal plate, clothing, and flesh with ease. After what seemed like the twentieth stab, he took a step back and let the mauled body slump to the ground.

“No...you will not,” he said with a glimmer of satisfaction on his face.

The Laconian turned back and looked directly to Xenophon. He might have enjoyed the look on the Attican’s face, but something was wrong. Instead of the excited feeling he anticipated, the man looked worried, perhaps even ill.

“Now what?”

Xenophon wiped at his brow and simply hit the helm of his armour.

“Xenias says his scouts have detected the approach of more ships.”

“Tissaphernes,” hissed Chirisophus.

Dukas Xenias surveyed the battle like an admiral on a great ocean in the days of old. They had pushed past the wrecks of two Median heavy cruisers that had been causing trouble to the smaller Terran vessels. As they pushed past, the port side of the Titan ground through the debris field like an icebreaker. A shrieking sound reverberated through the ship, but it was nothing the shield generators couldn’t handle. He looked around his deck and stopped upon spotting Komes Sosis and his small cadre of officers. Although Xenias was currently the overall commander for the Legion, the ship itself functioned under the direct leadership of Komes Sosis, a man he suspected would become a Dukas in his own right, especially based upon his performance so far in the battle.

“Komes, what is our status?”

Technically, the man was both the Komes and the Kentarchos of the Titan. It was one of those odd anomalies in the Terran ranks when the honorific title often took precedence over the rank itself. In either case it mattered to nobody. Komes Sosis was in charge of the Titan and Dukas Xenias the fleet. The only Terrans that would disagree would be those aboard the Laconian ships, and that was a discussion for another day, not in the middle of a space battle.

“Minor casualties, two decks breached, and seven gun batteries offline.”

Not great, it could have been a lot worse though.

The last few minutes had given him cause for concern, as a stray missile volley had disabled the shield generators for one flank of the ship. It should never have happened, yet freak occurrences do happen more often than people might think. A triple layered shield system was invulnerable, in theory.

The reality was very different though, and sustained bombardment could knock down shields as easily as a hit between the overlapping sections of the shield. Though they had been reactivated in less than a minute, the Titan had still sustained damage far greater than even at the Battle of Cunaxa.

We need to end this fast. Time is not on our side today.

The VOB system gave him a privileged view of the battlefield, and it was unlike anything he had seen before. All the space battles so far had been long-ranged affairs, with the ships of both sides moving through the classical formations of lines and columns while exchanging gunfire in the old ways. Those battles might have been difficult, perhaps even deadlier than this one, but at least they had been about firepower and manoeuvre. The battle for Larissa was just as he had described it to Xenophon. It was a ground battle in space, and after several hours of combat had changed into a great mess. According to the count, over half of the enemy fleet was either crippled or captured; the rest were undergoing violent boarding actions by the Legion.

“This is quite something. If any of us survive, it will be one for the history books,” said Komes Sosis.

“Indeed it is,” replied Xenias, “If only we had another three hours to finish the fight, we could consider it one of the greatest victories in our history. Hell, we could even consider staying here.”

The last comment was a throwaway, and he seriously doubted the idea of staying in this part of the Empire. In days or weeks they could expect to see dozens more fleets from the limitless hordes of the Medes. Their reputation had always been for vast number of warriors and ships, and he had no doubt it was true. He glanced at Sosis who was busy calling our orders to his gun crews. He’d spent most of his time during the battle managing his ship, but even his periodic visits to the Dukas had confirmed to him the battle was going their way. Few Terran ships had been lost and the casualties, whilst heavy in the assault parties, were still a great deal lower than he might have expected. He reached up and pointed to the dots in the distance.

“What about Ariaeus?”

Xenias’ expression darkened at the mention of Ariaeus. Right up until the disastrous ending of Cunaxa, he had been Cyrus’ second-in-command. None of the Terrans had ever truly trusted him, but so far he had avoided directly opposing the Legion. Large numbers of Terrans had wanted to support him in a push to put him on the throne, but so far better minds had prevailed.

Xenias had little stomach for a repeat of the vast assault on Cunaxa, especially as it was rumoured the Emperor had returned to his capital at Babylon Prime. An assault on that would require taking the Legion into a region of space never seen before and up against the might of the Empire, and for what?

“I don’t know. I suspect he has no real interest in the fight.”

“So why come here?”

Sosis considered this for a moment.

“Well, we’ve all met him. Cyrus placed a lot of trust in him and when it came to the fight, he was there. Maybe he’s been forced to come here.”

Xenias moved his head from side to side before stopping.

“I don’t know.”

Sosis didn’t seem impressed.

“If he’d come in thirty minutes ago, he could have won this battle for Artaxerxes. Now the Laconians are back, and they are free to engage any Median ships trying to assist in this fight.”

Xenias shrugged. Sosis laughed at his frustration and nodded towards the Laconian contingent that was busy smashing through the middle of the space battle.

“How in the name of all the Gods did you get the Laconians to return to the fray? I thought you and Chirisophus were less than friends.”

Xenias raised an eyebrow at this.

“That is something of an understatement. Who knows? One moment they were in the middle of their own personal fight, and then they turned back. According to Kentarchos Broge Monsimm, commander of Valediction, Chirisophus led an assault against the Median flagship.”

The return of the Laconian ships to the battle had been just as much a surprise to Xenias and Sosis as it had been to the enemy. Unlike the rest of the Terran fleet, however, the Laconian contingent was free from being wedged against Median ships in the myriad of boarding actions. They had swept through the centre of the battle and engaged any damaged Median ships while sending in boarding parties wherever they might be needed.

“I think this might be turning around,” Xenias said under his breath, “We just need to finish this before their reserve arrives.”

“Dukas!” called out an officer from the deck.

All eyes moved to watch the shape of a single Media light cruiser arriving a short distance from the massive space battle. Details and specifications appeared alongside it, and it was immediately flagged as hostile.

“Who is she? Is that one of Tissaphernes’ scouts?”

The secondary displays fitted throughout the command deck showed the cruiser from different directions. The Terran databases were detailed and quickly matched the silhouette and markings.

“It’s a Khanda class light cruiser, approximately seventy crew, limited hangar space, and very light weaponry,” explained Sosis with a firm tone.

“You’ve seen this class before?” asked Xenias.

Sosis nodded quickly.

“They are very common in the Ionian territories, as are those markings.”

He pointed to the black marks and glyphs covering the flanks of the ship. Xenias looked at them carefully but seemed none the wiser.

“Well?”

Sosis sighed.

“They are the markings of one of the Leleges, part of Tissaphernes’ Satrapy.”

It was the announcement that Xenias had been expecting, but the news from Drakonis had suggested the enemy would not be arriving yet, certainly not for a number of minutes, and that was time he needed to finish this battle.

“Very well, set condition...”

“Dukas, an incoming message from Kentarchos Ezekiel Manus,” said the auletes.

“Speak of the devil,” laughed Sosis.

He nodded to the video screen three metres in front and in the centre of the deck.

“Put him on.”

The image changed to show the interior of an unfamiliar ship. The crew around him were all Terrans, but it looked like a small number of Median automatons were lurking in the background, being watched over by two spatharii.

“Dukas, pleased hold your fire. We have captured this vessel. She goes by the name Zezal.”

“Stupid name for a ship,” muttered Sosis.

The officer had already sent the orders through the ship, and they were quickly permeating through the fleet. Once flagged as friendly, the auto-targeting would drop them into the green category.

“Kentarchos, can I assume you have a new home?”

The Terran officer laughed, and one of his officers moved alongside him.

“It’s not Drakonis, Dukas, but she sure is fast.”

Xenias scratched his cheek before speaking.

“What do you have?”

The Kentarchos spoke to his officer before continuing.

“Tissaphernes, Dukas, he has a combined heavy fleet of Carian warships, and they are moving in on you. The only reason we reached you is that they are heading to their rendezvous point.”

“To meet with what?”

Ezekiel Manus swallowed before answering.

“We do not know, but one thing I can tell you is that the Boubak is there and part of their forces.”

That one name meant more to the Terrans than an entire armada.

“Boubak? I heard she was lost a decade ago,” said Xenias.

Sosis didn’t seem particularly surprised though.

“If Boubak is here, then so is Darbabad Forouzandeh.”

Xenias knew her only by reputation, and he could see that Sosis was less than happy at the prospect of her arrival.

“She’s a wildcard, and that’s something we can ill afford out here.”

Dukas Xenias nodded firmly in agreement.

“I agree. We’ve encountered enough surprises as it is.”

He turned his attention back to Manus.

“How long do we have?”

The former commander of Drakonis leaned in close to the video screen. The sweat on his face was easy to see now, as well as the cuts and scrapes he must have received upon leaving his own ship. There were few details on how the Kentarchos had managed to escape from his wrecked ship, let alone capture an entire Median cruiser.

“Dukas, they will be with you in less than four minutes. The entire fleet.”

That one sentence turned the mood from optimism to one of biter resignation. Four minutes was nothing in a battle as vast and bloody as this one. They might have time to pull back a handful of ships, but the reality of the situation was that the fleet was pinned and in no shape to escape.

“Numbers?”

“Dozens and dozens of battleships, plus twice as many more heavy cruisers.”

He closed his eyes and then looked at the tactical display with the list of all Terran ships still functioning, as well as those that were captured. The fight was going well, but time was not on their side. He knew his next order would be the one that sealed their fate; he could only pray that it was the right decision.

“Pass the order through the fleet. Secure and make all vessels ready for an emergency light-speed jump in t-minus twenty minutes.”

Sosis nodded and then moved back to his officers. The face of Manus remained on the main communication screen.

“Dukas, what is your plan?”

Xenias’ hands were tied, and for the first time in a long time found he was completely out of ideas. He needed a plan, some way of turning this around, yet it eluded him. If only he had somebody around to throw ideas at him. It was times like these he missed the experience and knowledge of Clearchus. Unlike most Laconians, he was keen to absorb knowledge, even if that meant taking it from elsewhere. He was shrewd and cunning, yet like all of his kin, still quick to anger and easily baited.

I need a Laconian with some common sense.

That much was clear, but he had no real friends left with the Laconians or their traditional allies. All their senior officers and commanders had perished in the great massacre at Cunaxa. Of those remaining, he was the most experienced, and even he had no real idea on how to resolve what might turn out to be a massacre.

Xenophon!

He signalled for the auletes.