Black Legion: 05 - Sea of Fire (12 page)

“Yes, we are,” agreed Xenophon, “But they have little chance against our shielding and armor. Stand firm, and do not break. If we hold, we will win, I promise you.”

The fighters moved in at high-speed and then banked away at the last minute as they released missiles and torpedoes. The craft were small and their weapons of modest power. Even so, they scattered through the fleet in such numbers that at least four struck a transport and set off a series of explosions on one of the primary decks. Volleys of defensive fire blasted back at the smaller craft, but with such heavy electronic jamming, the manual gunfire was having a hard time trying to track them. Roxana moved alongside Xenophon, watching with him as the enemy continued to send in waves of the large fighter craft to attack them.

“What are they?” she asked.

“They are much bigger than our fighters. I’d say they are long-range craft, maybe scouts. Anytime we hit them, they take only a few shots before burning up. They are not frontline military craft.”

“Topoteretes, the first wave is breaking off. They have sustained only four percent losses,” said Kentarchos Cadmus.

Xenophon listened and found he was feeling annoyed.

“Yes, I know, Kentarchos. The battle is proceeding as expected. Please continue.”

The man looked affronted, but Xenophon could not afford time to placate egos. He looked to the left where two light cruisers were blasting a group of the heavy fighters that had come in too close The barrage of defensive fire was impressive, but as the craft moved through the never-ending shots, he could see they were unscathed.

“Are you sure about this?” Roxana asked.

“Just watch.”

They carried on through the first line and then found themselves caught in a viscous crossfire. The gunners on board the Elamites were starting to get hits while the torpedo boats worked in groups to saturate entire sections around the fighters. By the time the squadron had run the gauntlet, it had lost a third of its number.

“You see. Even with just the eighteen ships the Strategos left us with, we are more than capable of fighting them off. But we have to play this smart.”

“Look,” said Artemas.

She pointed to a trio of torpedo boats that bore Arcadian markings. They were busy chasing another group of fifteen heavy fighters out from the spherical formation. Xenophon tapped his earpiece and contacted the Kentarchos of the small force directly.

“This is the Topoteretes. Get back into position, or I will use your ships as an example.”

They moved perhaps thirty kilometres from their assigned position before slowing and then withdrawing carefully. Even as they headed back, the enemy fighter squadron split up and turned around in an attempt to encircle and overwhelm the outnumbered torpedo boats.

“I did warn them,” said Xenophon.

Roxana could hear the irritation in his voice. It was something she’d heard often before. Like him she also wore an earpiece, and while Xenophon continued to direct the rest of the force, she took over the micromanagement of the fighter and torpedo boat squadrons. Xenophon turned away from the trio of small ships and focused on the Elamites. More than forty heavy fighters waiting at maximum range were hitting both. Shot after shot hit the heavy shielding, and as the minutes rolled by, so did the strength of the shielding.

“Xenophon, they are almost back,” said Roxana.

He glanced over and watched the torpedo boats move back into the range of the rest of the fleet. They were not small vessels, and the name was something of a misnomer. They bordered on the size of the smallest light cruisers and could often take on the same role as their more powerful brethren. The principal difference was that the torpedo boat was primarily designed to launch capital ship crippling warheads. Some actually fired rocket propelled torpedoes, and others were equipped with a single large caliber plasma cannon as powerful as the main guns of a battleship. They carried a modest crew and were also fitted out with a wide variety of close ranged weaponry to deal with missiles and fighters.

“Kentarchos, what is our status?” Xenophon asked.

The man looked back at him.

“Shields are down to less than twenty percent. We can only take another few minutes of fire.”

“Understood.”

Xenophon looked to Roxana.

“This is it. We have to force them to move in. Are you ready?”

Roxana nodded. She knew exactly what he wanted to do. This was a tactic taught to history students throughout the Alliance. It was a risky endeavor but with such mismatched numbers, even she couldn’t come up with a better one.

“Yes, let’s do it.”

Xenophon nodded and then tapped his earpiece.

“All ships, on my mark move into the second Kyklos phase, by squadrons.”

He took in a breath.

“Mark.”

The light cruisers moved first, with some separating slightly to engage fighters. Their firepower dropped to no more than half of before, and in a matter of three minutes the Kyklos was loose and broken. Whereas before it was a coordinated sphere, with the bows of the ships facing outward to the enemy, now it was a confused mess. Kentarchos Cadmus threw Xenophon a withering stare.

“Xenophon, are you sure this will work? I have no intention of...”

“Sir,” called out the tactical officer.

“The enemy fleet, they are moving in from six directions.”

Xenophon and Roxana exchanged a look.

“It’s just like back in the Academy days,” she said, trying to remain calm.

The formation did give the impression of some inbuilt disaster. Half of the warships were low or critical on their shields, and the fighters were staying far back among the heavy transports. To all intents and purposes, the fleet looked as though order had broken down.

“Kentarchos, begin the FTL sequence, but do not, and I mean it, do not activate the system.”

He didn’t wait for confirmation and looked back to the external view. In seconds, he’d sent the same orders to one of the Elamite battleships and two more light cruisers. A torpedo boat was firing its secondary weapons far off into space while projectiles bounced off its shielded nose. Every time the shield was struck, it sent a flash of energy across the surface of the ship. Terran shielding was based upon zones rather than a fully enclosed layered onion system. This allowed the energy levels to be modified dependent on the direction of the impact, but it was perfectly possible for a section to fail in one place while the shields remained at full strength elsewhere.

Originally, this use of shielding had meant that ships had powerful protection all around, but could also boost power to certain areas. This was the principle used by the peak of Terran engineering, the Titan. Over the decades this had changed so that smaller ships carried shield generators incapable of full all round protection, and instead supplied what was needed as the attack came in; fine in practice for fighters and frigates, but not so great on larger vessels under continuous bombardment.

Roxana tried to smile at Xenophon.

 
“That should do it.”

She then pointed at the nearest group of enemy ships.

“They are changing course and coming directly for the ships getting ready to leave.”

Xenophon lifted his hand to his mouth and rubbed his chin. He watched the large force of fighters that were still accelerating. This was different to the previous attacks, and he could see all of the groups of fighters were now moving in for the kill. He had seen this happen in previous skirmishes, and it was the point where one side had finally broken.

This is where the blood will truly be spilled.

He looked to her, watching for signs of doubt.

“Will they stand?”

Roxana nodded, but she seemed a little unsure of that.

“Xenophon, this is your first fleet command. Every commander out here is experienced, and they will fight like animals. That isn’t the problem; it’s the constant changing leadership and loyalties. Some of the Kentarchos are not sure, and there’s a chance their personal experience might outweigh their faith in you.”

Xenophon didn’t seem impressed.

“I never wanted to lead this fleet, not even a part of it. But the stupidity of our officers, well, you know. If we’re to get home, we’ll all need to work together.”

“Exactly,” she replied, “And people like you and Xenias are the ones to do that.”

Xenophon took in a long, slow breath as though he was about to submerge himself in a bath or pool of water.

“I guess we’ll find out.”

The fighters were now just fifty kilometers away and splitting apart into small groups. Each of them moved in on a single ship until the entire spherical unit was completely saturated by enemy vessels.

This is it.

Xenophon tapped his earpiece.

“All ships; activate Corvus and engage the enemy. Attack and pursue at will.”

He looked to Roxana who said nothing. She just nodded in acknowledgement and continued passing on his orders to each of the officers. Even Xenophon was impressed at her speed and efficiency. They were working well as a tactical team. He looked to his left and then to the right as the battle reached its climax. For the first minute even he had his doubts. The heavy Carduchian fighters were right in amongst his ships now, but that was just what he wanted.

“Xenophon, look,” said Roxana.

He followed her hand and spotted a heavy fighter snared by a Terran torpedo boat. It was locked against the bow of the larger vessel.

“Beautiful, just beautiful.”

* * *

Torpedo Boat ‘Firestorm’, Terran Rearguard, Carduchian Wilderness

The breaching mouth pumped superheated plasma against the plating of the Carduchian ship. It took just a few seconds, and the chamber filled with the noxious gas, tearing open a hole with a terrifying screaming sound. Then it stopped, and a dull tone announced the bridge between the torpedo boat and the heavy fighter was ready.

“Follow me!” cried out Pentarchos Orestis.

He was a well-built Plataean from that violent border region between Attica and Laconia. His people had been a pawn to both sides, and more recently with interest from the Boeotian League. That violence now burst from the man as he led his five-man pempas squad directly into the fighter. The pempas consisted of an odd mixture of two spatharii and a trio of lighter armed stratiotes. None used shielding, and they moved inside with speed and aggression.

“Kill them all!” continued the Pentarchos.

He was first through the breach and stepped over the mangled and partially melted remains of a Carduchian man. He ignored the body and pushed inside. It was small, not much bigger than a shuttle, yet two Carduchians waited with firearms at the ready. One missed an arm, and both were bleeding profusely. Pentarchos Orestis charged at them with his kopis blade swinging in his right hand, and his pulse pistol blasting away in his left. The sight of the Terran dressed in heavy armor and bearing down on them must have stunned them because the only shot they fired managed to miss and struck the ceiling. In the next few seconds both of the crew were butchered in a series of wicked cuts and stabs.

“Good work,” said Pentarchos Orestis.

He looked to his comrades, all of which bore the blood splatter of the attack.

“That’s how Terrans fight.”

The youngest stratiotes, bearing the insignia of the Night Blades smiled.

“Up close, and in their faces.”

Pentarchos Orestis laughed.

“Exactly.”

CHAPTER SIX

Light Cruiser ‘Antaeus’, Terran Rearguard, Carduchian Wilderness

Like so many battles in the past, this one ended almost as soon as it had begun. The initial bombardment by the heavy Carduchian fighters may have gone on for what seemed like an age, but when the Terran vessels turned on them they had no chance. Xenophon and Roxana watched on with little need to intervene. While the Carduchians were the masters of hit and run warfare, they were nothing when it came to close up brutality.

“I count thirty plus fighters caught in the Corvus. The rest are trying to escape,” said Roxana.

She didn’t look around, as she was busy sending in a pair of light cruisers to box in another squadron of the enemy fighters. They moved quickly with their powerful maneuvering thrusters allowing them to twist and turn with incredible ease. As the larger ships settled into a pursuit course, they opened fire with a deadly crossfire. Two, three, and then five ships matched their gunnery to cause the enemy to panic and split apart, making them easy to attack by groups of much smaller Terran fighters. One was even caught on its own by a trio of Seafox fighters. The aged craft made short work of its armor with a twenty-second long burst of gunfire that punched holes from bow to stern.

"Another one down," she said under her breath.

Any of the enemy fighters unable to break away from the Terran formation were quickly ensnared to shoot apart, but a small number managed to break free and were pursued by the smaller of the Terran ships. Roxana looked back to Xenophon.