Black Legion: 05 - Sea of Fire (17 page)

The Kentarchos smiled.

“That’s the difference between us Naval fighters, and you ground pounders. We’re all about the timing.”

Another three shots were the last of the counterattack as the robots vanished from view. Xenophon looked at them, but Desma was already in front of him and pointing in the direction of the machines.

“We cannot let them control their retreat. What if they find another way inside?”

Kentarchos Cadmus nodded in agreement and signaled to the Terrans.

“Advance to the hangar and drive them out!”

* * *

Bijar Prime, Carduchian Wilderness

Lady Artemas walked through the abandoned facility as though she was on some grand state visit. At her side were Glaucon and Tamara and at her back a dozen Laconian spatharii. They were in a vast open garden filled with exquisite water features, long lines of plants and trees, and beautifully designed sculptures. Directly above them was the great dome, a structure so vast it could have contained an entire Terran Titan and still have room for dozens of smaller ships.

“Have you ever seen anything like this?” she asked.

Her tone was gentle, yet lacked the awe that might be expected in such a unique location. Glaucon was only partially listening and much more interested in scanning every shadow and piece of cover he could find.

“I don’t like it down here. If we were to be attacked, we would lack numbers and tactical knowledge. This job could have been completed by the stratiotes. They are trained and equipped for high speed scouting operations.”

“No, I need to see this storage site described by the Komes, personally.”

On she marched through the gardens and deep into the urban sprawl. It took almost half an hour for them to pass a heavily damaged official looking building and toward a great pit in the ground. A crane and gantry system lay twisted and smashed to one side, leaving only the poorly maintained circular stairway as the route down.

“Are you sure?” Glaucon asked.

Even Tamara looked unconvinced.

“Why are we bothering?”

Lady Artemas looked to them both.

“Xenophon was right. We need to scout ahead, seek out contacts, make friends, and attempt a careful withdraw from the Empire. That has fallen apart, and now we are floundering in Carduchia. Chirisophus believes we have all the time in the world to prepare. I suspect he would even like to turn around and take advantage of the internal troubles of the Empire.”

Glaucon seemed surprised at this statement.

“Really? He would turn on the Emperor, even in our current state?”

They continued on downward, with even their Laconian bodyguard coming in right behind them. Each level took half a minute to navigate, but finally they reached the first of the primary levels, each of which was space ten levels apart. Artemas left the steps and went into one of the side tunnels. She was only a short distance inside and nodded toward a distant light.

“Look, it’s Komes Artemis.”

The shape of the Laconian officer was not far away. He spotted movement, gave an order, and then walked toward them. He stopped just in front of Lady Artemis and bowed politely.

“Lady Artemas. I was told to expect your arrival. The Strategos asked me to...well he wants...”

Artemas smiled at his discomfort. She reached out and touched the man’s shoulder.

“It’s okay. I know why we are here. He wants me off the ship, and down here keeps me away from the fleet and the Legion.”

The Terran grinned.

“Yes. Our Strategos is a fine warrior, and my kin, but he is not the most...ah...politic.”

Lady Artemas looked at him carefully. She had met him several times, and he struck her as being the epitome of the Terran warrior, strong, loyal, and brave. Yet for some reason, he also seemed to have a brain and an inquiring mind.

“There is much more to getting the Legion back safely than simply knowing how to fight battles. The Strategos needs to be a leader, a general, and a warrior. He must know when it is time to fight, and when it is time to talk.”

The Terran nodded slowly in complete agreement.

“That is why I am not disappointed in your arrival. I know you and Xenophon are close, and the two of you have offered good advice since we reached Cunaxa. That is why I think you might find the stowaways of more interest than even the Strategos thought.”

He pointed into the dark, damp tunnel.

“For a start, they are not Carduchians.”

Both of them were silent for a second. Tamara stepped past them and then looked back. Her expression was of wry amusement.

“So what? I bet there are Carduchians all over the place. Why would it be different here?”

The Komes nodded to both Tamara and Artemas before replying.

“A good point. In any case, we have five of them, all survivors of an Imperial civilian transport that was hit six days ago.”

Artemas looked over his shoulder but could not see the civilians.

“I thought they couldn’t speak your language, Komes?”

The Terran smiled and then leaned in close.

“It took some time, but when we put down the weapons they began to talk. One of them is trader and speaks our language. He has worked the Ionian trade routes. There’s more, though.”

His tone had dropped so much that not even Tamara or Glaucon could hear him.

“They say their ship was stopped and searched by an Imperial battleship called Boubak making their way across the border to meet with another ship. The vessel bore no Imperial markings and appeared to be operating as a corsair.”

“Boubak?”

Glaucon heard just the one word but recognized it immediately.

“What about the Boubak?”

The Komes looked to Glaucon and then back to Lady Artemas. She nodded. With that permission, the Komes explained.

“She was identified by these traders.”

“And?”

“They were boarded, interrogated, and then set adrift two days from this location. What is more interesting is that they were questioned over and over about two people.”

“Who?” Glaucon asked.

Komes Artemis wiped his chin.

“They wanted to know the location of the commander of another ship, one that is out here on some special mission. The commander of this ship is apparently Ariaeus. The second is Lady Artemas, the niece of the traitor Cyrus.”

The mention of that name silenced them all. Even Tamara, normally the most vocal remained completely silent. Lady Artemas nodded, though visibly offended at the suggestion of her being a traitor.

“Their words, not mine,” added the Komes.

They then walked on through the tunnel with the Komes alongside her. The prisoners were a short distance ahead. They wore civilian clothing, but one was standing upright, almost to attention as he spotted her. She moved in on him, and he dropped to his knees and spoke in hushed tones.

“He knows you,” said the Komes.

He looked at them both with interest as they continued to speak. The others were silent, other than the one still kneeling. The conversation continued for almost a minute, and then Lady Artemas stepped a half step back. It wasn’t much, but it was odd. Glaucon glanced over to Tamara and noted she had already brought her hand down to her side, right where the hilt of her razor sharp stiletto blade rested.

“What’s going...” started the Komes, but it was too late.

“Artaxerxes!” yelled the Median male, and then from nowhere came a deadly looking blade. He stabbed it ahead in an upward thrust, aimed directly at Lady Artemas’ stomach. The blade struck just below her armored corset and pushed up behind her lower ribs.

“Glaucon!” she cried while dropping to the ground.

The Terran lurched ahead while yanking his kopis blade from its sheath. Tamara was already there and hurled herself at the Medes. They fell to the to the ground while she continued stabbing at his chest. They struck the ground with a loud crashing sound, and then Glaucon was there, resting his knee onto the Mede’s neck. Tamara slashed at his throat, but Glaucon blocked the attack.

“No, we need him to talk.”

There was a gurgling hiss, and then a pale cream fluid bubbled from his mouth.

“Get back,” The two moved away as the attacker shuddered and then lay still. Tamara laughed but stopped upon spotting the fallen form of Lady Artemas resting in the Komes’ arms. Blood dripped from the deep wound in her lower body and onto her leg.

“It’s a trap,” said Lady Artemas.

At the same time, a low rumble came from deep down in the pit. Glaucon went to the edge and looked down. Tamara joined him, but neither could see much. They looked back, and the Komes looked up to the brighter light above them.

“We need to get out of here, fast!”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Light Cruiser ‘Antaeus’, Terran Rearguard, Carduchian Wilderness

Being back on the command deck of the Antaeus had been a welcome respite for Xenophon, following the attempted boarding action. He’d been there for nearly half an hour and watched the view of stars and shapes passing them at incredible speeds as they traveled to their next waypoint. The Kentarchos had taken over the control of his ship, and with the fleet now making its way to the rendezvous Xenophon knew it was time to leave. No matter how relaxing it might have been, though, he had other things to do. For the last ten minutes he’d been working his way down to the medical bay, and only now had he reached the door.

“My Lord,” said one of the guards.

There was just one Terran outside the door. It was shut but only the frame was solid; the interior was of a semi-transparent material with a slightly smoked coloration. It was enough for Xenophon to see the movement of people inside but little more.

“I’m here to see the wounded.”

“Of course,” replied the guard.

He turned a fraction and tapped a button. The door slid open, and a barrage of smells immediately hit Xenophon. Most were of the various substances and ointments used to fix a great variety of ailments. There were others, though, that he would have been more than happy to avoid.

I hate these places.

He went inside and looked at each of the bays where injured men and women lay. Most were being treated for blunt force trauma, but at least two were undergoing various levels of limb repair following the fight. He kept on until he reached the bed he dreaded seeing. There before him was Roxana, but instead of lying down, she was sitting up and arguing with one of the medical staff.

“What’s the problem?”

Roxana looked briefly at him and then back to the medic.

“He wants to keep me here for observation.”

It was a simple enough statement, but her voice dripped with anger. Xenophon walked closer and looked her up and down, checking for signs of damage from the battle. He was surprised to see nothing other than the dark marks on her face and neck. The medic looked at him and then raised an eyebrow at spotting the second-in-command for the fleet.

“Topoteretes, I didn’t realize it...”

Xenophon shook his head.

“Don’t worry about me.”

He then nodded toward Roxana.

“Tell me about my Pentarchos. How is she, and why do you want to keep her here?”

The man started to speak, but Roxana was already climbing off the low bed and to the floor. She shuddered as her feet made contact, reaching out as she began to lose balance. Xenophon grabbed her, and she held on for a moment before finally pushing away and standing on her own.

“I suffered bruising and a light concussion.”

“Light?” said the medic with a laugh.

She gave him such a withering stare that he was silenced without a sound being uttered.

“Yes, light.”

She hobbled closer to Xenophon and whispered into his ear.

“I cannot stay somewhere like this. It’s full of sick people, and you know how I feel about that.”

Xenophon laughed at her complaint, as well as the reminder of her gripes before they’d joined up about the same stuff. Roxana had never been much of a fan of the kind of people that seemed to enjoy their stay at hospitals, and now she seemed to live in mortal fear of ever having to visit them herself. The medic tried to intervene, but Xenophon waved him off.

“It’s okay. I’ll take care of her. I know you have more serious injuries to deal with.”

The man shrugged and then moved off to one of the many wounded spatharii. Roxana leaned in close to his ear and muttered something barely intelligible.

“Get me to my quarters. I need to rest.”

She leaned on his shoulder, and they went out of the door and back into the wide passageway. Roxana pulled on his arm and stopped him for a moment.

“Where are we going now?”

Xenophon could well understand her confusion.

The last thing she probably remembers from the battle is being stuck at the Iraj Outpost and fighting that bloody, close ranged rearguard.