Black Legion: 05 - Sea of Fire (6 page)

“They understand, and they do not believe us.”

Chirisophus, the fool.

Xenophon looked at the view of the outpost that was easily dwarfed by the scores and scores of Terran ships. It wasn’t just the numbers, or even that the vessels were massive ships of war. The deal breaker was they bore the markings of the Terrans.

What Medes would be comfortable facing down Boeotian, Arcadian, or Laconian ships? Chirisophus has done us proud once again.

“Do we have time to get a team down there before Chirisophus...”

Artemas was already shaking her head when Roxana entered. Tamara must have been lurking nearby because she joined them to look on at the station.

“So, we did that little scout mission for what exactly?”

Xenophon shrugged at Roxana’s question. Artemas beckoned to the ship’s auletes.

“Put me back on with the outpost’s commander.”

The officer looked to their computer suite.

“They are refusing a connection with us and are arming their weapons. They mean to fight us.”

Xenophon stepped closer to the viewer and pointed to the massive Laconian Titan that was clearly visible.

“I need to speak with Chirisophus, right now!”

The officer made an audio only connection in seconds.

“Good work, Xenophon. This is just what we need. My own scans show fuel in abundance aboard their freighters. More importantly, they have a refinery on the other side of the outpost. You found the perfect spot. We can obtain all the materials we need to continue through this forsaken wilderness.”

“Chirisophus, what are you planning?”

“Planning?”

The answer came back with an incredulous tone.

“I am not planning anything. I am sending in a boarding party to secure a landing zone and to open up negotiations.”

Artemas stepped to the intercom unit.

“Chirisophus, this will not work, not out here. Not like this.”

The Laconian snorted at the sound of the Medes’ voice. There was little love between the Laconian and any Medes that they had ever come across. The fact Artemas had chosen Xenophon as her close companion; probably didn’t help either. To the Laconians she’s was something of a prize, a thing to be paraded about a Titan, in the same way as a dromon filled with looted treasures.

“Watch and learn, Lady. Terrans do not speak like children around Medes and their slaves. We need food, water, fuel, and other supplies. This outpost has everything we require. Either they will trade, or we will take it, by force if necessary.”

His tone changed as he returned to speaking with Xenophon.

“I suggest you prepare your vessel for resupply. I will contact you when I have finished negotiating on this little rock.”

The audio cut without any agreement being made. Roxana laughed unintentionally, and the others looked to her.

“What? I think it’s a great idea.”

Xenophon raised an eyebrow and Roxana continued.

“Look, we’ve only just reached this wilderness, an area populated with almost no outposts. So what do we do? We send in the army to negotiate.”

“So what?” Kentarchos Cadmus snapped back.

It was Tamara, the bright haired teenager with a violent streak that answered. She sidled up to the man and sized him up as though he were a boy she was about to hit.

“What would Boeotian civilians do if a heavily armored force made landfall on your world?”

As usual, the Kentarchos looked confused. Roxana moved alongside the teenager.

“A good question. Would you roll over or would you fight?”

The man considered the words and turned to walk away. He spotted the wry grin on the face of Lady Artemas, and that was too much for him.

“I would do what any army does if they have nothing but light infantry to fight a force of spatharii.”

“Which is?” Roxana continued.

“Separate, take to the hills, and cover and wear them down with guerrilla combat. Live off the land and fight in areas known to us. Direct confrontation would be futile.”

Roxana looked to Lady Artemas and nodded.

“See, it makes you wonder if we should have a Boeotian Strategos instead of a Laconian, don’t you think?”

“Yes!” yelled an officer further back before hiding back into the crowd of personnel.

“Look,” said Tamara.

Her arm was extended and pointing to the shapes of a group of Laconian dromons. The heavily protected small transports were moving out into a group of six. A pair of Laconian fighters was alongside them.

Roxana laughed.

“Negotiations, huh?”

Xenophon and Artemas’ eyes met, and a quick unspoken message passed between them. Xenophon then looked back to the Kentarchos.

“Get us to the landing platforms on the outpost, and fast.”

The man looked to him, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“Land my cruiser down there? If we do that, there’ll be no space to even land a single dromon. You know how big we are, don’t you?”

Roxana stood directly in front of the man. She might have been junior in rank with regards to the Legion, but she was an experienced Naval officer, and under the protection of being part of Xenophon’s personal entourage.

“Oh, I probably know the size and specifications of this ship better than you do.”

The man looked unimpressed.

“A hundred and ninety meters long, two hundred and eighty-eight crew, and ten Mark IV heavy laser mounts. Want more?”

“Enough,” growled Xenophon, “That wasn’t a request. Now put us down fast before we end up in the middle of a war. You might not have heard of the wrath of the Carduchians, but I have.”

The Kentarchos issued his orders, and the light cruiser activated its engines. They left their position and headed toward the outpost. They were soon among the dromons, and then quickly passed them and were closer to their target. The ship was nimble for a vessel of their size. As they were within a kilometer, the internal warnings activated.

“Kentarchos! Their weapons are powering up. I detect four heavy cutters on board. They are mounted to the right, just above the refinery complex.”

“Target the guns. Prepare to fire on my mark,” Kentarchos Cadmus shouted.

He threw a look to Xenophon.

“You are risking my ship with this.”

Xenophon shook his head and started moving for the door.

“No, Chirisophus did that by bringing in our capital ships. We should have sent in a single ship to show we meant them no harm. Now we are here to talk, but with an entire armada to back us up. Why would they trust us?”

“Will this work?” Roxana asked.

Xenophon shrugged.

“Do we have much choice?”

He then looked back to the Kentarchos.

“I want to be on that platform in five minutes. Close the gun ports and deactivate the guns, right now. I want supplies, not a bloodbath. Don’t forget, it’s not just this outpost, it’s all of Carduchia.”

He was then at the door with his entourage right behind him and almost out of sight when the Kentarchos called out one last question.

“What will you do?”

Xenophon looked at him and shook his head.

“Whatever I can.”

* * *

Seconds passed by as the cruiser left its position among the fleet and headed toward the outpost. The nearest Median transporters moved out of the way, but not one shot was fired, much to Xenophon’s amazement. A pair of Attican fighters followed them down but left when remote gun turrets locked onto them. The cruiser was ungainly, yet managed to maneuver between the lines of ships, past two gantry arms, and down to the landing platform. The large flat section was hexagonal in shape and connected to the central structure via a long walkway of nearly five meters in width and almost fifty meters in length.

“What if they open fire?” Glaucon asked.

Xenophon raised his eyebrows in an optimistic gesture.

“Let’s hope that doesn’t happen, for all our sakes.”

The ship groaned as it twisted about for the final approach. He checked the status indicators for his squad and then on his own weapons. As they waited, they continued forward until it was the single closest craft to the landing platform.

“Sixty seconds,” said the Kentarchos’ voice over the ship’s speakers.

Xenophon looked to Artemas and then to the massive blast doors. They were protected by a secondary set of doors that while much smaller, were able to lock bars into place in case of an emergency breach. The exterior of the doors led directly into space, and nothing remaining but the single layer of the protective energy shield at that point.

This had better work.

Xenophon knew he was doing the right thing, but the nagging thought in the back of his mind was that when the doors opened, the Medes would cut them down. There was an argument for just heading to the outpost with all guns blazing, but unlike Chirisophus, he knew exactly where that would leave them. Assuming they were forced into battle, there was a good chance the entire outpost could be crippled or even destroyed. His body tingled as he anticipated the pulse round impacts.

Just pray they aren’t that stupid.

Even though there had been no sign of a battle, he was still sure this aggressive move by the Strategos would backfire. There was little doubt they would win a stand up fight, but the repercussions for the fleet could spell disaster. He just hoped the Strategos was beginning to understand that.

“Topoteretes,” said the Kentarchos through his earpiece.

“What is it, Kentarchos?”

“Strategos Chirisophus wants to know what you’re doing. His landing party has been forced back to avoid striking us. He wants to speak with you.”

Xenophon coughed as he cleared his throat.

“Tell him I am taking a landing party to the platforms. I will negotiate safe passage through the Carduchian Wilderness; obtain a guide, and a trading agreement. Make sure he keeps the Legion back.”

“But, Topoteretes, I don’t think it...”

“Don’t think,” Xenophon interrupted, “Just do it.”

Xenophon could tell Kentarchos Cadmus was not happy at having to deal with the Strategos like this. The two, while not enemies, were also not exactly the greatest of friends. The Boeotians and Laconians had fought as allies in the past, just as much as they had fought as enemies. A greater problem, however, was that the Boeotians were becoming more and more aware that with all of their combined territories, they actually controlled more land and had a vastly larger population. This growing confidence was something that all Laconians were beginning to worry about.

Always the same; we have a job to do, and instead we fall to internal politics.

He almost cut the connection but decided to say one last thing.

“Kentarchos. We are Terrans, and together we can make it out of Median territory. You saw what happened with Tissaphernes. He almost destroyed the Legion, but we worked together and survived. We can do that again, but only as Terrans. If we separate, they will finish us all off, one group at a time. It is better that we all do the wrong thing together, than just one of us does the right thing.”

He licked his lip.

“We negotiate and trade our way through Carduchia, or we fight. There is no middle ground, and every Terran contingent must understand that.”

“Understood, Topoteretes.”

Xenophon wasn’t entirely sure he believed the man, but he didn’t have the time to pursue this particular line of argument anymore. He cut the connection and looked at his comrades.

“Not long now.”

He wore his Legion uniform, along with his full Spatharii armor, all except for the portable shield generator. His armor, while similar to that worn by the others, had been modified and embellished as a man of his rank was entitled to. The breastplate and greaves were normally dull and plain, but his were marked with iconography from Attica and also Laconia, something of a recent addition. The breastplate was a replacement for the one that had sustained damage on Cunaxa, and had been given to him, along with a new helm as a gift from Chirisophus on his promotion to Strategos. The helm was a traditional Corinthian, with nose and cheek protection. More importantly, it was topped with a black and white plume of stiff horsehair. On his left arm he carried his prized Asgeirr-Carbine and on his right, the Asgeirr-Carbine given to him by Clearchus during his fall on Cunaxa.

“You look such the soldier,” said Artemas.

The sarcasm was obvious enough that Tamara burst out into laughter. All of them apart from Artemas wore the same equipment, but Roxana and Glaucon only bore the icons of Attica, a mark of their connection with the homeworld. Tamara fidgeted as she adjusted her tightly molded chest armor.

“What’s wrong, pup?” asked Glaucon while grinning at Xenophon.

“This armor. You can tell it was made by a man, how are you supposed to move in it?”

Artemas had grabbed her Imperial regalia as they’d made their way down to the hangar. Though she wore her modified Terran armor, her clothing was Median. The long gown was skin tight and bright white. Her long black boots matched the armor, and her head was unadorned so that everybody could see her face and her long hair.