Black Legion: 02 - Assault on Khorram

by Michael G. Thomas

  She looked to Xenophon, as though he were her superior.

  “What are you looking at him for? I am in charge here.”

  “Sir, control is restored. We have full command and control, as well as use of the communications gear.”

  “Excellent, put me on speakers. It’s time everybody in this ship understood who is in charge and what is happening. We are rejoining the Armada, and any one that stands in our way can take a step outside,” he said with malice in his voice.

  “Dukas, before you speak, I have something else for you,” said Artemas.

  The Dukas held the communication microphone in his hand and considered whether to hear her speak. It looked as though he would dismiss her, but something intrigued him.

  “Be quick, we have a course to plot here!”

  Xenophon supported her as she moved closer, and one of the crew helped to peel back her shredded clothing around the armour. There was quite a bit of blood, but the wound looked a lot less serious than he suspected it might be.

  “After we were attacked, I was able to get a short message from one of our listening posts. There are rumours of ship movements on a course for Khorram, Terran ships, not ours. If our agents at the listening posts are right, then they are expecting a large Terran fleet to arrive within the week.”

  He looked surprised at the news.

  “Terran fleet, as in our Armada, the Legion?”

  He placed his chin in his hands and thought. The Dekarchos called over.

  “Dukas, we have the crew’s attention. They are waiting for you.”

  He looked back to Artemas.

  “Get your wound seen to, and meet me back here in fifteen minutes. We have things to discuss.”

  With that she was dismissed, and he looked back to his crew. Xenophon moved nearer and checked the wound himself, being as careful as possible not to touch it.

  “I’ve never seen a Medes bleed before,” he grinned.

  She was already feeling quite weak, but he couldn’t tell if it was from exertion, exhaustion or blood loss. Her took her weight and moved to the door.

  “That’s just what I’ve always wanted to hear a man tell me,” she said weakly.

  He lifted her carefully and kept moving. Glaucon and Roxana approached while Tamara checked the bodies of some of those that had fallen. Xenophon hoped she was checking for survivors and not looting the bodies. Glaucon helped take the weight of Artemas, and they followed the floor markings to the nearest infirmary. According to the symbols, it was less than thirty metres away. More of Xenias’ men were now armed, and the main corridors were full of loyal men and women, all looking signs of those that had so recently turned on them.

  Roxana looked over Artemas and shook her head.

  “It’s always the same with you two, always chasing a piece of tail.”

  Glaucon and Xenophon looked at each other and laughed.

  “What so funny, I’m being serious,” she replied, feigning being hurt. Glaucon almost leered at her before speaking.

  “Well, we have to find it where we can!”

  She shook her head in annoyance at the two of them. They were already at the infirmary, and inside were at least a dozen wounded people, some with terrible injuries. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Tamara pull something from one of the dead traitors. She looked carefully and was convinced she saw a smile on the young woman’s face.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Laconian Titan ‘Valediction’, Approaching Khorram shipyards

  The briefing room was filled with the shapes of two dozen of the Dukas and senior ship commanders in the Armada. Unlike the main command deck of the Titan, this part of the ship was designed both as a place to plan strategy as well as to entertain and also impress foreign dignitaries. Clearchus watched them arrive one by one and remembered vividly the dozens of occasions where other races had entered in the same fashion. The room itself was located within the great hall where it formed a separate ante-chamber. Anybody visiting must first walk through the impressive hall. Numerous cabinets and trophies filled the space with relics and trophies from scores of campaigns; many conducted under the guidance of Clearchus himself prior to his exile. He recalled the consternation when the ship itself had been handed over for use in the campaign. Though he was an exile, it was well known the decision was purely political. He couldn’t directly command the ship, but he could command the Legion from within it.

  “Is this all of them?” asked Cyrus impatiently.

  Clearchus looked at him and did his best to hold his tongue.

  “All those that need to be here,” he replied with barely concealed hostility. He wanted to lash out at the incident with Menon and Ariaeus on the Aronton Station. They had now long left the sector, but the casualties for the skirmish still remained, as did his suspicions about those Cyrus dealt with. Cyrus noticed his glance.

  “Where is Ariaeus?” he asked suspiciously.

  “He is coming. My intelligence staff has fully debriefed him as to his side of what happened in Aronton.”

  Cyrus turned to look at the rest of those arriving.

  “Yes, I read the report. Shame about Menon, he could have been a potential ally in this coming struggle.”

  “Ally, you do remember he turned those machines on us upon arriving, don’t you?”

  Cyrus smiled back at him.

  “Of course, I didn’t say he would be my friend. Menon was nothing but a pragmatist. He will want to join whichever side appears to have the advantage. If we could have persuaded him my forces could win this fight, I’m sure we could have added his forces to ours.”

  Clearchus considered telling him what he had seen on the station, but he remembered the old adage of information being power. Right now, it was information he couldn’t use, so perhaps it would become useful later on. He sighed but did his best to hide it. He didn’t need to continue as the last contingent arrived, including his two deputies, the battle hardened topoteretes Kleandridas and Pleistoanax. The room went quiet. He looked once more at Cyrus and lifted his hands, calling out to the commanders.

  “Dukas and leaders of the Legion, we are fast approaching our objective and possibly the greatest battle of your careers. The route we have taken has been long and dangerous but will take us into the heart of the Empire. We have bypassed the most commonly travelled routes and will jump directly into the Khorram shipyards.

  A murmur of surprise rippled through the assembled group. Clearchus looked at the faces in front of him and tried to gauge what they were thinking. The most consistent look was of astonishment.

  “Now, I’m sure you are all familiar with the reputation of the Khorram shipyards. They are the main Imperial shipyards for the fleet. There we will find orbital platforms, half constructed ships plus ammunition and supplies to equip a force five times our number.”

  He turned to where the long table was fitted and pressed a button, and up popped a highly detailed three-dimensional model of the Khorram region. Most would probably expect it to be one planet surrounded by stations, but it was something much more complex. The region included a super massive planet, much like old Earth but at least triple its size. Three dozen artificial moons orbited the planet and each of those was surrounded by platforms, smaller stations and columns of ships. It was unlike anything any of them had ever seen before.

  “There are a number of routes that will take us to the Core Worlds. We can move directly through the Babylon Star Fortresses, but that would be suicidal. Instead, we will strike their main naval facility and cripple their fleet in one swift strike. From there, we can repair and resupply at our leisure. Artaxerxes will either have to face us there or leave most of his Empire open to destruction by our marauders. Now, any questions before I begin?”

  The two topoteretes were the only warriors that seemed unconcerned at his statement so far. Sosis the Syracusan from the Titan Poseidon nodded first. Clearchus waved with his hand to take the question.

  “Your strategy for assaulting thei
r fleet is commendable, but is this part of the Empire even better protected than the Core Worlds themselves? If so, then why not smash directly into the Empire and drive on to the capital of Babylon Prime with a surgical strike of overwhelming firepower and violence?”

  A few mutters from the others in the room voiced their agreement, and Clearchus considered ending the discussion immediately. He had already decided on the plan of action, but it was often useful to hear what his other commanders had to say. After all, the Dukas were all technically the same rank and experience as him. It was only his virtue as a Laconian Strategos with substantial experience that had made his selection as military leader a foregone conclusion. A vote of no confidence by the remaining Dukas could easily move the command to one of them instead, as was the old Terran custom.

  “That is an excellent point,” he said in as conciliatory tone as he could muster. He looked to the model on the table and moved his hand to select and highlight the dozens of ships. The number of ships paled only when compared to the sheer size of at least half a dozen of them. He looked back and grinned.

  “Anybody here that thinks Artaxerxes doesn’t know we’re coming is a fool. If he didn’t know before, he will certainly know since out action at Aronton.”

  That last comment caught the entire group by surprise. Even Cyrus appeared a little taken aback at the suggestion his enemy and rival might know they were on the way.

  “The only questions he will be asking are not if, but when and where we will strike?”

  He pointed to the Core Worlds, the thick section of stars and planets at the far right of his model.

  “He knows he has numbers and time on his side. He will expect us to hunt him down and engage him. It is in his interest to stay away and let time, money and sniping attacks do the work for him. Remember that in the past, we have heard of only a few operations that forced their way inside the Empire. Every time they have made a little progress and then been consumed by the many headed hydra that it is. We cannot, under any circumstances play his game.”

  He moved the map to bring the Core Worlds as well as the shipyards all into view.

  “If he knows about the Legion, the he will be rallying his forces to himself so he can prepare for the inevitable battle. By striking at a site as important as the Naval Yards, he must either meet us, or allow us to wreak havoc wherever we feel.”

  He then looked to Cyrus who was busy nodding with agreement. In fact, Clearchus almost had to hold him back from leaping in and speaking. He moved aside just enough to give the Medes noble room to reach the map model.

  “The Empire is a misnomer, as the territory is actually a massive collection of fiefdoms, kingdoms and territories. They are all governed by Imperial Satraps that answer directly to the Emperor, my brother. Now, Artaxerxes has enemies throughout the Empire, including many of these regional governors. If there is any sign of weakness shown by him, he can expect satraps like Tissaphernes to turn on him throughout the Empire. The more damage we cause, the more he will be forced to act.”

  “And then the Legion will crush him and anybody that sides with him,” added Clearchus with barely concealed pleasure.

  It was perfectly clear to him that he now had the attention of the entire hall. The plan was simple, and the location of the Khorram shipyards was well known to even those with little travel experience. He moved the display back to local space where it showed the allied fleet of the Legion and the larger formation of Medes ships under the control of Ariaeus.

  “I have received the full disposition of forces under our joint command and can confirm the following in the Legion. On board Valediction we have a little under four thousand warriors, including almost three thousand spatharii. This includes my personal retinue of Epilektoi that I am making available for the operation.”

  A great cheer issued forth from the small group of Komes present for the Laconian Titan. Two of the Dukas aboard his ship, Chirisophus the Laconian and Sophaenetus the Stymphalian, lifted their right hands and joined in with the noise. Clearchus smiled at the commotion and was reminded of the similar order of battle being read out in a dozen earlier battles.

  “Next we have Titan Herakles and the contingents of Sophaenetus the Arcadian, Kratez the Achaean and Proxenus of Boeotia. Between them they bring three thousand more spatharii and five hundred stratiotes, a worthy and powerful force of warriors indeed.”

  The cheering continued as before, and Cyrus took the opportunity to lean in and whisper into Clearchus’ ear.

  “Are you planning on doing this for each Titan and transport in the entire fleet?”

  Clearchus looked quickly at him and grinned widely.

  “Of course, just wait until we get the Median forces. I’ll need you to read off the lists of division commanders.”

  Cyrus looked confused at his last statement, but Clearchus knew full well he wouldn’t be privy or even interested in such information.

  “If you don’t have it to hand, I will simply announce the numbers and the senior commander of the automatons. I assume you have one?”

  * * *

  Vendetta, Su’bartu Maelstrom

  Things were starting to get back to normal on board Vendetta, at least as normal as it could be on an overloaded ship with scores of wounded crewmen that had already conducted a dozen jumps since the ship had been retaken by Xenias and his comrades. From their position on the port side of the ship, the surviving members of the Night Blades and three other units watched the departure of a single dromon. The corridor was designed partially as an observation deck but protected by a mechanical metal screen that could be brought into position in less than half a second, should it be required. A more modern ship would have utilised more of the virtual observation technology, but Vendetta was no fancy modern warship.

  Of those watching, the two that stood out the most were Glaucon and Artemas; Glaucon because of his sheer size, and the Median woman as she looked so out of place amongst the rest of the warriors of the Legion. All wore dark clothing though, and each bore a serious and grim expression at what was happening.

  “Where do you think they’ll go?” asked Roxana with a genuine feeling of concern in her voice.

  “Who cares? They turned on us without even thinking about it. I hope Xenias left a present for them on board,” said Tamara.

  Xenophon was surprised at her statement. Until the action on the command deck, he had always considered her to be somewhat lost at sea, more an orphan than a fighter. He was starting to see a vicious streak, and it was a change he didn’t like. He looked back to the long, thin window and watched the dromon as it used its manoeuvring thrusters to keep away from the ship. Movement caught his eye to the right, and he turned to see two of the defence turrets activate.

  “What the hell is going on?” he muttered.

  They were the smallest weapons carried externally on the ship, but they were still over four metres tall. They were point-defence turrets, part of the ship’s complex defence screen. Dozens of similar turrets were fitted all around the vessel and could provide a full three-hundred and sixty degree arc of fire if the ship was attacked. Unlike heavier weapons, these were built specifically to fire rapidly and to track fast moving objects, especially missiles, rockets and accelerated projectiles.

  “Yeah, looks like the Dukas has bigger balls than you thought!” laughed Tamara, much to the discomfort of both Xenophon and Roxana.

  Though the turret tracked the dromon, it did not fire. It took less than a minute for the ship to shrink in size until it could no longer be seen. As if to mark the small transports departure, the voice of Kybernetes Ezekiel Manus echoed through the narrow corridor.

  “The traitors have started their long exile, and it is now time for us to continue on our journey. We are operating in complete lockdown, and communication blackout is still in effect. We will be jumping in four minutes and expect to rendezvous with the Legion in four more jumps, Kybernetes out.”

  Those in the corridor started to disper
se, and Glaucon seemed to voice the opinions of the rest in one simple line.

  “I don’t know about the rest of you, but right now I could do with a drink, a serious drink.”

  Xenophon nodded heartily at the suggestion, as did Roxana who was still looking for signs of the now vanished dromon. The only glum looking person there was the moody Tamara. Roxana spotted her and moved a little closer. There was definitely something odd in her expression, as if someone had just committed a great evil.

  “Come on, to the rec room,” said Glaucon, and then he was gone.

  It was a short walk, and in less than five minutes they were inside the hastily modified storage room. Over two dozen people were already in there listening to music, talking and generally trying to forget everything that had happened to them in the last few days. Normally, this room would be stacked with charge cartridges for the secondary weapon batteries, but with no weapons to resupply there were a number of similar sections now devoid of ammunition. They were among the few places not reallocated for use by the new refugees on the ship. Tamara jumped ahead and grabbed a table for the group just as two spatharii were about to sit down. One looked as if he would erupt in anger, but she faced him down until he walked away. Xenophon slid alongside her, and the others pulled over barrels and boxes to join him.

  “Tamara, you need to watch that temper of yours. You aren’t making friends here.”

  Roxana sat opposite the two of them while Glaucon walked over to a group near a pile of crates. It wasn’t the most sophisticated of locations, but it was large and big enough to house a full dromon inside and away from the bustle of managing the ship. It didn’t take Glaucon long to return with four large beakers of the same type used in the canteen. He dropped them down on the table and slid alongside Roxana.

  “Scoot along then,” he said with a smile. She sighed and moved the short distance to give him the space.

  “What is this stuff?” asked Xenophon, staring inside the beaker suspiciously.