“Follow me, we have an Empire to win!” he shouted.
Anybody that could move followed him into the breach, and even Artemas stepped forward, her own weapons at the ready. Xenophon and Glaucon moved as a pair quickly past the Dukas and into a wide corridor that was venting gasses.
Xenophon sniffed the air. He could smell burning components and cabling. It looked like the battleship had sustained more damage in this section than they had realised. Ahead of them, the spatharii were spread out and looking for any signs of the enemy. Apart from the odd crewman, the ship appeared deserted. Xenias proceeded further inside until they reached an access hub. It was a large open space about the size of a small sports hall but with cylindrical tunnels moving off in a dozen directions. The rest of his warriors gathered around him in a knot of just over fifty men and women.
“They must have abandoned the landing bays when we started our approach!” suggested one man.
Roxana quickly assessed what this actually meant and turned to Xenophon. Both had a look that told them they were thinking the same thing. It was Tamara, surprisingly, that spoke first.
“That means they know we’re here, and it’s a trap!”
A group of spatharii appeared from one of the tunnels. They were running back towards the ship and changed direction upon spotting Xenias and his group waiting in the middle of the access hub. Dukas Xenias seemed unconcerned at the movement and tapped his temple as he spoke to Strategos Clearchus.
“This is Dukas Xenias, we are in the secondary landing bay, objective secured, moving inside,” he stated calmly and then moved as though to push ahead. A bright blue streak whistled passed him and cut one of the spatharii in half before exploding into one of the thick walls.
“Ambush!” shouted Julius and jumped in front of the Dukas. Those few with shield generators dropped them to the floor and activated the units to create a partial energy shield around the group. In seconds, the assault force had transformed from a loose formation of warriors to a small knot, much like an ancient schiltron of warriors, all shuffling in close around their leader. Artemas, with her keen sense of smell and hearing, spotted the enemy first.
“Here they come!” she cried.
Like insects crawling from a nest, the enemy rushed from five different tunnels towards the small formation. This time it wasn’t Median engineers, or even Medes warriors. This time the enemy were a motley collection of Mulacs and Taochi warriors. Both were members of the many races defeated by the Empire and forced to fight on its behalf. The Mulacs were more like men in build but thicker set and armoured in a crude fashion. All carried the edged weapons they so favoured, but some carried firearms. Mixed in with them were the bullish Taochi, the large warriors with massive rippled muscles and a mixture of close quarter weapons.
Xenophon watched them in awe, reminded for a moment of the paintings and artwork he had seen of these beasts fighting the Terrans on edges of their space. He had already faced the Mulacs before but never those in actual Imperial service. They wore uniforms and even reasonably similar helmets. But the Taochi were something else. Nothing in his reading or studies had ever prepared him for the sheer size and bulk of these real minotaur-type monsters. A ripple of light gunfire flashed around their position, and several pulse rounds bounced from the shields. They wouldn’t hold them forever though.
“Fire!” barked Xenias.
From the small circle of warriors a blistering amount of fire erupted as rifles, carbines and the odd pulse-cannon blasted the onrushing horde. Xenophon lost count of the number of Mulacs that fell beneath their guns, yet still they came. The Taochi took round after round, and only one fell before they reached the Terrans. Xenophon, Tamara and half a dozen other warriors pushed to the front, stabbing wildly as the monsters broke into the position. Two Terrans were crushed by the first before a long burst of pulse-cannon fire from Glaucon brought it down. Another reached a metre in front of Xenias, but his loyal bodyguard fired, stabbed and slashed with blades and carbines until he was safe.
“Forward!” he shouted, and as one the formation widened into a loose line towards the now scattered group of fighters. Two Mulacs rushed for Artemas, but she ducked passed both of them, slashing with her wickedly sharp blade as she moved. Those behind her finished them off on the ground before continuing. The shock troops panicked and finally turned to flee before the violence of the Terrans.
“You, Artemas, do you know the layout of these ships?” shouted Xenias over the din of battle.
She blasted with her carbine and moved alongside him.
“Yes, it is a standard design in the Imperial Fleet. Where do you want to go?”
“The Emperor, where will he be?”
Artemas smiled at him, “Yes, his throne room. It doubles as his royal household and much like your command deck.”
Xenias lifted his arm, blasted apart a Mulac and looked back to her with an urgent look in his eye.
“Where is that?”
Artemas look directly upwards.
“Four decks, directly up, right inside the heart of the ship.”
Xenias smiled and contacted Clearchus with the news. Artemas moved back to those at the front and took up position beside Xenophon. They were keeping up a consistent fire and were pushing back the enemy with only minimal losses. Xenophon slid in a new clip into his carbine and shouted over to her.
“Where are we going?”
“Up there!” she replied, pointing to where she had shown Xenias.
* * *
“They made it inside, excellent,” said Clearchus.
Tactical Officer Coxand sent him two screens of data on the Rashnu, along with live video feeds from the troops using the equipment. His expression had changed as he listened to the words from the four Dukas that had now made it aboard.
Xenias, even though using the smaller force, had now penetrated the furthest and expected to reach the main levels in less than ten minutes. According to the data they had on the Rashnu, she would have an estimated complement of about one and a half thousand crew plus an unknown number of warriors for defence. There was the issue of it being the flagship, and this would probably mean some form of Royal garrison as well. The battle had now turned into a total mess, as the Medes tried to stop any more Terran vessels approach the boarded Rashnu. The Titan Valediction was already powering towards the ship when it took two broadsides from her accompanying Elamite battleships. The ship shook and three alarms sounded before being quickly silenced. He noticed on the tactical map that they were moving no closer to the ship.
“What’s the problem?” he shouted.
“We can’t get any closer, Strategos,” said Kentarchos Broge Monsimm. “The battleships have set up a crossfire that will cripple any ship that moves nearer.”
“Even us?” he asked in surprise.
Kentarchos Monsimm nodded. Clearchus looked away and cursed quietly to himself. His plan all along had been to move their ships in such a way that he could trap and board the Emperor’s flagship. The Elamites had proven a tougher nut than expected, and now only nine hundred warriors had made it inside.
Is it enough?
* * *
Lady Artemas led the group, but she was closely guarded by Xenophon, Tamara, Roxana, Glaucon and Julius. It was already becoming clear she was the person with the most useful knowledge of this ship, plus an unerring ability to not be hit by the odd projectile that came their way. They made their way to the top of the tunnel, to find themselves in a small hallway filled with statues of monsters and heroes. It was very much like some of the temples back on Attica, and in other circumstances Xenophon would have loved to examine them in more detail. Artemas pointed ahead to a large black shape. It looked like a great door nearly ten metres tall and half as wide.
“Is this it?” asked Xenias.
He was answered by a familiar but unfriendly voice.
“Dukas Xenias, what are you doing here?” called out Proxenus of Boeotia.
Xenias turned to spo
t his old enemy approach, along with a large contingent of his lightly armed stratiotes. Not far behind was Kratez the Achaean with a similar number of spatharii. They were all Terrans, and in this battle all brothers, yet the hostility between the commanders was obvious.
“I’m here to finish this battle. Come with us, you might learn something!” he snapped back, much to the amusement of his small band of Arcadians. He looked back to the door, but then realised one of the Dukas was missing.
“Where is my friend, Sophaenetus the Arcadian?” he asked.
Proxenus approached and grasped Xenias’ forearm in the traditional Terran grip.
“He and his warriors are securing the lower levels. They are keeping the Medes busy, so we can finish this once and for all. Are you ready, brother?” he asked.
Xenias didn’t fail to note the irony in his voice, but at that moment he really was only interested in the mission. He looked back to the great door and to Artemas.
“Well, is he inside?” he asked.
“Him and his bodyguard,” she replied.
“Very well, how do we get in?”
Artemas simply smiled and stepped forward, placing the palm of her pale hand on the thick metal. As soon as she made contact, a great crunch and grinding sound rumbled through the space. She looked back to the surprised Terrans.
“It is a Median gate, and one that may only be opened by those of Royal blood.”
Xenias nodded in appreciation, now doubly glad he had brought her on the mission. The door lifted up slowly and with much noise until it revealed the opulent and brightly lit interior of the Emperor’s Royal quarters. In the centre of the room was a vast glowing orb, and inside that the shape of the Emperor himself. The three Dukas watched in awe of the majesty of the room, the shimmering gold objects that covered almost every surface; but more than anything, the shimmering orb in the centre. Xenias stepped forward, and the rest moved with him, a solid group of Terrans, and all with ill intent in their eyes. Roxana moved ahead and turned to face them.
“Wait, we cannot simply commit regicide!” she called out to them all.
The orb behind her, now only twenty metres away, flashed and pulsed. It then emitted a bright white light that almost blinded them all. As it faded, the shape of the Emperor was gone, only to be replaced by four of the mighty Taochi warriors. These were even larger and more majestic than the previous ones, with each in decorative gold armour and carrying massive razor sharp glaives. They roared in hatred and stormed forward towards the four Dukas and their assembled warriors. As they pushed ahead, another two dozen elite Anusiya warriors leapt from the darkness and into the group of Terrans. They were the elite Immortals, the personal guards of the Emperor and his best native troops.
“Stop him!” screamed Xenias in the direction of the orb as he was dragged to the ground by three of the Anusiyans.
Glaucon lowered his pulse cannon and blazed away, but it was too little, too late. The enemy were among them, and the battle degenerated into a bloody melee in the centre of the Royal quarters. Only Artemas, Xenophon and Tamara managed to extricate themselves, running to the right of the room where they could use the darkness near the tall columns for cover.
“Where did he go?” asked Xenophon.
“The light, it is how he communicates with the rest of the fleet. If he is not here, then he is leaving,” explained Artemas.
As they spoke, Tamara moved on further, sneaking through the shadows until she was past the orb. She turned back and shouted.
“There’s a chamber back here, come on!”
She ran off, leaving Xenophon and Artemas to give chase. As they moved, a group of five of the Anusiyans spotted them leaving and turned to pursue them. Two were cut down by Terran carbine fire, but three made it to the orb and out of sight of the main battle. The chamber was only a short distance away, and they moved inside cautiously, expecting a trap at any moment. Artemas spotted the movement first and jumped back in time to avoid a narrow blade thrust forward by more of the Anusiyans. Xenophon grabbed the nearest arm and yanked the warrior forward. Tamara dropped down low and stabbed her blade into its head before moving ahead and engaging the rest. Artemas followed closely, but Xenophon moved more slowly, ever aware they could be hit from behind. Almost on cue, the other three Anusiyans appeared directly in his sights. He gunned down the first two, but the third managed to beat his carbine aside and knocked him to the wall. As he spun around, he noticed the fleeting form of the Emperor in all his finery climbing inside what looked like a small armoured shuttle. A line of Anusiyans guarded it while Artemas and Tamara hacked and stabbed at them.
“Out of my way!” he snapped at the one still fighting him and kicked him in the lower leg. The Medes warrior howled and stabbed down with his own blade. Xenophon ducked to the side and punched the warrior hard, only to meet metal armour. The pain was excruciating but not enough to stop him stooping down and grabbing his now empty carbine. The warrior rushed at him, forgetting for a second that it was not just a carbine. It was a stand issue Laconian Asgeirr-Carbine. With a single swift uppercut, he stabbed through the Anusiyan’s throat and into the brain. He spun around and dragged himself up to help his friends, but there were simply too many of them. Then he heard a familiar voice.
“Get down!” came the gruff sound of Glaucon.
Xenophon didn’t even look, and he threw himself down to the floor. Tamara and Artemas saw him move and jumped aside in time for his old friend to open fire. The plasma-cannon were much too big for most Terrans to carry, yet Glaucon made it look like lightweight. As if in slow motion, he blasted away, each round burning fist-sized holes through the thin armour of the warriors. It was over quickly, and not one remained standing near the metal body of the shuttle.
“Thanks!” smiled Xenophon. He turned to look at the shuttle, but they were too late. It had already turned and was moving towards the circular door about twenty metres away. Glaucon lifted his weapon to shoot, but an alarm started around them.
“No!” screamed Artemas, hold onto something!”
Glaucon dropped his weapon and grabbed the nearest bulkhead. The others did the same, just in time for the door to blast open and expose the compartment to the cold, sterile environment of space. The shuttle rushed out of the ship and into space.
“Artemas shouted out something in her native tongue, and the outer door started to close. In what seemed like an age it finally shut, and the terrible whistling of the air escaping the ship stopped.
“We failed!” growled Xenophon, bitterly angry they had missed the Emperor by a matter of seconds.
The four stood and turned back to the small corridor that led inside the Royal Chamber. It was a short walk to where the orb stood, yet their victory felt hollow. Dukas Xenias and the others were already tearing the place apart, trying to find a sign of the hatred leader. Xenias spotted Xenophon and stopped, looking towards him but saying nothing.
“He’s escape, an armoured shuttle,” he explained angrily.
Xenias placed his head in his hands before tapping the node in his temple.
“Strategos Clearchus, he has escaped.”
* * *
Clearchus watched the battle from his vantage point while he waited for confirmation from the nearer vessels. It took sometime before the auletes of the Herakles contacted him.
“Strategos, we have him on our scanner, sector twelve alpha. He is heading for the jump beacon.”
Clearchus’ heart almost skipped a beat. Stood next to him was Cyrus, and his expression told him all he needed to know. The Emperor had to be stopped. He signalled for Auletes Juda Bellee to transfer his communication to every ship in the fleet.
“All ships are to target this vessel. It is the Emperor, I repeat, all other objectives rescinded. Destroy him!” he barked.
“Sir, new signal, ships are jumping in!” called the Auletes.
Clearchus looked at the tactical display, and the coloured shapes appearing around the Emperor’s shuttle. He shook h
is head in disbelief as they materialised.
“Imperial Corsairs, they are Menon’s ships, Sir!” said Tactical Officer Jeane Coxand.
He watched in frustration as the vessels swamped around him, and then the shuttle was gone. It was either swallowed up or destroyed by one of the ships.
“Where is he?” demanded Clearchus, but it was clear they were already too late.
“Incoming signal from the corsairs, Strategos.”
Cyrus stepped next to Clearchus, a look of anger and disappointment on his face.
“It will be him,” he said dispassionately.
Clearchus nodded in agreement.
“Put him on.”
The main screen changed from the tactical map to the insides of a lavish Medes warship. The form of Menon, supposedly killed on Aronton, stood in the centre while another approached. Cyrus nodded as his brother moved next to Menon and stared with his cold black eyes back at the Terrans.
“You attack me in my own lands, brother. For this betrayal you have started a war that will not end until every planet you call home is burnt to ashes, and your body is impaled at my Royal residence!” he roared and then the feed cut out.
Cyrus and Clearchus looked at each other, neither of them having anything more to say. It was a major blow, there was no denying it. With the Emperor gone, the battle was now pointless and any victory irrelevant. Those ships that were able to escape were already trying to jump while an even greater numbered signalled their intention to surrender. It was a victory but a hollow one.
EPILOGUE
Median Flagship Rashnu, Khorram shipyards
The battle for Khorram was over and the time for consolidation and recovery had begun. Hundreds of Medes crewmen were in the process of being escorted from their fallen ships, though a small number of them had elected to serve on board the ships of Ariaeus. It was the capture of the Rashnu that was the real prize, and over a hundred technicians and intelligence experts from the Legion were already stripping anything of note from her innards.
Black Legion: 02 - Assault on Khorram Page 23
