Black Legion - The First Trilogy

by Michael G. Thomas

  The spatharios looked back to him and grinned. The humour of Glaucon was infectious and did much to calm the nerves of those troops trying to make their way off the doomed ship. He pointed to the Anusiya.

  “I don’t think it is meant to be taken literally. They killed our guards and then set off atomics near our power plant and life support. Any other ship would be dead, but not the Olympia, she can take a beating.”

  A loud roar indicated the arrival of a dromon at the side of the evacuation deck. It moved through the sealed energy shield that protected those inside from the cold vacuum of space and settled down in the middle of the deck. It wasn’t a standard vessel. Xenophon instantly recognised it as the command dromon of Dukas Xenias. It carried thicker armour as well as multiple weapon mounts and turrets. It sat, waiting patiently while its gunners put down heavy suppressing fire on the enemy Anusiya. The side doors opened and out came nearly a dozen bodyguards, wearing full armour and carrying carbines. The first two to jump out carried shield generators. They created a glowing screen in front of the force and protected them from the reduced weapons fire.

  “I knew he wouldn’t leave us to rot,” said Dekarchos Julius. The sense of pride and loyalty in his voice almost made Xenophon feel guilty at their attempts to escape.

  A final figure appeared. It was the massively armoured hulk of the Dukas himself. Xenophon and his comrades had met him only a few times, and he was never more imposing than when stepping on a battlefield. His thick armour and shielded body deflected the enemy weapons fire with a level of contempt that almost made him seem god like. He stepped away from the dromon and checked for survivors. Before Dekarchos Julius’ group could move, another five warriors broke out of their cover and made the dash to the dromon.

  “More survivors, good,” said Julius under his breath.

  The group made the short run across the open space and even though a number of rounds came close, none were hit. Julius looked around at his own force and then back to the dromon.

  “Okay, people, this is it, let’s go, now!”

  He jumped up and fired a long burst from his carbine. The sparks and flashes from the weapon hit all around the enemy who were trapped behind their cover. They made it half way when Glaucon spotted the arrival of more Anusiya warriors. A force of nearly twenty appeared from one of the many side tunnels. They kept running towards the dromon, some firing and others hurling objects. The turret fire from the ship cut down over half, yet they kept coming.

  The first of the spatharii reached the dromon at the same time as the projectiles struck the front of the vessel. They exploded on impact, sending shards of razor sharp metal and burning chemicals around the target area. They ignored the fire and jumped inside and along the other survivors. Roxana was the last to climb aboard. Once inside, the guard unit and Xenias, returned, blazing away at the growing numbers of enemy troops.

  “Strap yourselves in, everyone. This is going to be rough!” shouted the pilot without the benefit of the communication system.

  Dukas Xenias grabbed one of the magnetic clamps and looked about inside the vessel. He spotted Xenophon and his people and shook his head.

  “It seems they are not as trustworthy as I thought,” he said in a conciliatory voice.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Deep Space, Thapsacus Sector

  Another explosion rocked the dromon as the small armada of vessels rushed away from the crippled Titan. A mere two dozen dromons and a single archaic war cruiser were all that remained of the small Arcadian contingent in the Legion. Vendetta was an obsolete cruiser by any standard; even so she was the most substantial vessel in their force. The years had taken their toll, and many of her weapon batteries had been replaced with additional shield generators or storage space for the expedition. Unlike most of the dromons, she had seen service many generations earlier in the wars with the Medes. By all accounts, Vendetta was nothing more than a glorified freighter, but with the benefits of extra armour and a few antiquated weapons.

  She is one tough old bird, thought Xenophon, as he watched the old cruiser fend off attacks by two much smaller Median cruisers. The light energy beams left scorch marks on the cruiser’s thick armour, but the shield generators did their job and absorbed most of the energy.

  “Hold on, they’re making another pass!” shouted the pilot.

  The inertial dampeners took most of the impact, but the harsh directional shift threw them about. Incandescent balls of superheated energy rushed passed then, and at least one dromon was hit twice.

  “We’re lining up to land on the Vendetta, get ready for a quick evac,” he added as a blast of energy destroyed another dromon.

  Dukas Xenias slammed his fist into the communication unit on the wall.

  “This is Dukas Xenias to all ships, jump to the emergency nav beacon, now!”

  The pilot looked back at him, but it was clear there was to be no discussion. Half of the dromons flickered and then vanished as each activated their short-ranged FTL drives. The Vendetta followed them, and the in a sickening lurch so did their own craft. Each of the surviving dromons was packed with crew and warriors from a dozen worlds. All that was left of this part of the fleet remained with the dromons and the cruiser. Only a small number were still trapped on the Olympia. Xenophon watched the massive hulk of the Titian shrink in size in the blink of an eye, and then they were gone. The heavy cutting beams used by the Medes capital ships were left to continue their terrible work on the Titan with the deadly efficiency the Medes were so renowned for.

  “Dukas, we’re at the nav beacon,” said the pilot.

  The virtual nav beacon was simply a location in space that had been predetermined as a rallying point; there was no actual physical beacon. The small number of burnt and damaged dromons swarmed around Vendetta, waiting to unload the surviving troops onto the cruiser. The landing bay was normally designed for the launch and retrieval of a single scout fighter or transport. Now it was being used as an emergency docking point for one craft after another. Two dromons had already been unloaded when the first Median light cruiser arrived. It appeared in a blur, and like the arrival of a thick droplet of water that coalesced into the form of a warship. In seconds, streams of energy flicked at the cruiser, and one beam cut an empty dromon in half.

  “Dukas, we need to dock and fast!” said the pilot.

  He looked down to his view screen and nodded in satisfaction as he spotted a multitude of signal streams being flooded with traffic. He did a quick check and looked over his shoulder to the Dukas.

  “My Lord, Vendetta is jamming her, so it should buy us some time.”

  Xenias nodded and tapped the communications buttons once more.

  “All dromons, speed up the unloading procedure. Vendetta, restart your FTL, we’re going to need to jump immediately.”

  The voice of the capital ship’s commander broke out over the internal speakers.

  “This is Kybernetes Ezekiel Manus, the Kentarchos was killed during the first attack. We have rerouted all weapons power to the FTL and can jump in seven minutes.”

  Another series of explosions ignited off the left side of the cruiser. Fragments of metals and debris struck the hull but incredibly, none penetrated the thick hide. The main weapons batteries didn’t respond, but the small point defence turrets did their best to hold off most of the projectile weapon fire. The shields were now the only defence against the heavy beams.

  “Our turn, Dukas, we’re going in!” called out the pilot.

  With great skills, he spun the dromon through the wreckage of two other vessels and landed in the small landing bay. As soon as the doors opened, a number of crew helped drag the wounded from their craft and pulled them to safety. In less than thirty seconds, the craft was unloaded and relaunched into an automatic holding pattern. Tamara watched as it circled away, crewless and aimless.

  “What will happen to her?” she asked wistfully.

  Glaucon looked at Tamara and to the dromon. It managed to reach three hun
dred metres before a dark blue energy beam cut through its middle.

  “There’s your answer. Come on, we need to get inside,” he said, and they chased after the Dukas. The rest of the crew and spatharii did the same, and soon they were inside the heart of the ship and its many corridors and passages. The first thing Xenophon noticed was the wounded. He spotted dozens of burn victims and a number with hideous injuries to their faces and arms. The group kept moving until they reached the command deck.

  Dukas Xenias was already speaking with the Acting Kentarchos, a young, haggard-looking man. He had a bandage across his right shoulder and several smudges of blood on his chest.

  “Komes Pasion is on board as well as some of his men. There are two more dromons left to dock, and then we are clear.”

  “Two?” snapped back Xenias, unable to believe it was such a small number.

  “Yes, Dukas, we have managed to save a little over four hundred of the crew and seven hundred and twelve troops from the Olympia.”

  Xenias was stunned and said nothing for a few seconds. Dekarchos Julius approached the commander of the cruiser with a similar look of disbelief on his face.

  “Only eleven hundred out of a complement of nearly five thousand warriors and a thousand crew?”

  Xenias lifted his hand and rubbed his chin as he considered their situation. He had suffered a major blow, and the loss of so many friends and countrymen must have rankled.

  “More ships are coming through!” called out an unseen tactical officer.

  The ship was old and lacked the advance command and control systems used in modern vessels. It featured just one main view screen that filled most of one side of the deck. Hundreds of years ago, this was the way all capital ships had been modelled. All it showed now was the age and obsolescence of the Vendetta. The cruiser shook as they took more impacts from the heavy weapons of the Median ship.

  “Two minutes till we can jump!” called out the Acting Kentarchos.

  On the display, the shape of the Median light cruiser looked menacing and fearsome. Unlike the Terrans, the Medes were more interested in aesthetics and numbers than military prowess. Many worlds had yielded to their might simply because a thousand ships had arrived in orbit and demanded thus. In recent history, only the combined might of all the Terrans had been able to hold back the deluge that was a combined Median fleet. In theory, the older Terran cruiser should be able to match the more modern ship in a one on one duel. But the problem was one of time. Every minute they stayed there was another minute that could let the rest of the enemy fleet know where they were.

  “Look!” cried Roxana in surprise as the shapes of newly arrived ships materialised around the two cruisers. It was four hydra class destroyers, the ship class that Xenophon and Roxana had served on before the fall of the Alliance. Xenias smiled at the sight of the friendly ships.

  “Good,” he said with a stoic nod, “perhaps all is not lost.”

  They took up position between Vendetta and her attacker, and then turned their guns on the enemy ship. It was a devastating volley of firepower, and in less than a minute, the burnt and damaged shape of the Media cruiser began its limping retreat from the battle. Hot on its heels were two of the destroyers. The small ships kept up a light but withering fire of heavy energy weapons. The other two took up station around Vendetta to provide security while the last few survivors transferred to the cruiser. Two of Xenias’ security guards approached and spoke quietly before moving away to a discreet distance.

  “I am moving my flag here for the time being. Finish the loading of the survivors, and pass the rendezvous co-ordinates to the rest of the...well, to the rest of the fleet.”

  The Kentarchos nodded and looked back to the rest of his crew. Xenias stood alongside, Xenophon and a small group of those that had travelled back with them to the cruiser. Two more dekarchos arrived from other units on the ship and waited for their orders. The Dukas signalled for the auletes to give him access to the ship’s communications system. It took just a few seconds to patch him through to the ship and the newly arrived destroyers.

  “This is Dukas Xenias, commander of Olympia and the Arcadian detachment. Take this message to all your officers and crew, and get them ready. It is my intention for us to rejoin the Legion as quickly as possible. This betrayal by Tissaphernes must be answered and trust me, it will be.”

  He paused and took a breath, but to Xenophon it looked like he was trying to make a decision, and it seemed to trouble him.

  “For now, we need the protection of the Legion and the Titans. We cannot allow this aggression against Terrans to go unpunished. I have suspicions about Cyrus and certainly all Medes. As of now, we will not trust a word that ever leaves their mouths. There is even a chance Cyrus is leading Clearchus into a trap that will strip the finest of all Terran warriors to their deaths.”

  He stopped and looked about the old and worn interior of the cruiser. Vendetta was certainly far from the best ships he had seen, but she was solid, dependable and his home. He almost smiled at the sight of the crew moving about at their stations, and the sound of communications gear in use. It reminded him of Olympia.

  Komes Pasion and Komes Andronicus entered the command deck. They were both in charge of sizable contingents in the Arcadian force and looked as if they had encountered heavy fighting. Dukas Xenias stopped and looked at them. He lowered the microphone so he could speak privately.

  “Were you successful?” he asked.

  Both men nodded.

  “Good, it is an unfortunate thing but a necessary one.”

  He then lifted the microphone and continued speaking with the crew of the ships.

  “The Olympia was a good ship. No, she was a great ship and the pride of the Arcadian military machine. She will not fall into the hands of the enemy, and in her death throes she will make the Medes suffer. Prepare yourselves for a long march, we will find our comrades and finish our mission.”

  He looked at the motley collection of crew, stratiotes and spatharii from multiple units and ships. Most were from the Titan but a small percentage hailed from the small number of escorts that had been unable to escape the ambush. He glanced at each of them before coming to Xenophon, Glaucon, Tamara and Roxana. It was to Tamara that he stopped near first. It was probably her blue hair that caught his eye, and for a second Xenophon regretted having even met her. In the commotion of the battle on the Titan, he had recognised her but been unable to give her or the others any more thought.

  “You, we fought together at Cilicia, did we not?” he asked.

  She nodded and tried to lower her head to avoid attention. He moved along and smiled when he spotted the others of her little group.

  “Ah yes, the escapees from the Night Blades, it would appear our paths have crossed again. You were right, of course, the Legion is home and the only organisation we can trust in hostile space such as this. As of now, you are all reinstated into the Legion. I will be restructuring our detachment due to losses of both personnel and equipment.”

  “What about our agreement with the Empire, with the Emperor?” asked one of his junior commanders.

  Dukas Xenias snorted in derision, and the very mention of the hated man’s name seemed to twist and contort the commander’s face.

  “Agreement? That was torn up the minute Tissaphernes the traitor attacked us under a flag of truce,” he spat out.

  Komes Pasion looked at the gathered officers and stared at Xenophon and his group in particular. He had evidently not forgotten about their little incident on the Titan prior to the attack. He stepped nearer to Xenophon, and Glaucon moved a little closer; his body tightening up and expecting a fight. Instead the Komes smiled, confusing them both.

  “I harbour no hard feelings at your escape attempt. It is not like you were trying to escape battle. As it happens, your wish will be answered.”

  He turned back to the Dukas, but one of the crew spoke to him.

  “All passengers are aboard, and the escorting ships report t
hey are charged and ready to jump.”

  Dukas Xenias nodded in agreement.

  “Good, give them the fractal codes and start the clock. We jump in sixty seconds.”

  He looked about the ship, noting the number of wounded and those in great pain. It was a defeat, but not all was lost. What did concern him was the distance. Though he hadn’t spoken of it with the others, he was aware they would need multiple refuelling stops if they were to make the long trip to chase after the Legion.

  Assuming they are still on the same course and haven’t altered their speed, he thought ruefully.

  * * *

  Laconian Titan ‘Valediction’, Su’bartu Maelstrom

  The mighty warship shuddered once more as it ploughed through a cloud of dust. Most small craft or ships would sustain damage in such a place, but the thick armour and powerful shielding of the Titan kept it safe from foreign bodies. The Armada had entered the Maelstrom and it was living up to its name. It was a vast and dangerous region of space situated between the fertile border worlds and the rich inner systems. Survey ships and drones had tried to map the great collection of shipping obstructions, gases and nebula in the area, but as the years moved on, so did the shape of the Maelstrom. The famous navigator Randy Artis from Psidia had established a series of safe shipping lanes through the most dangerous parts of the Maelstrom. These Artis route lanes were like super highways connecting gas giants and space stations together. They were carefully calculated so that large ships could refuel and complete long journeys through these dangerous parts of space.

  Strategos Clearchus stood in his customary position in the centre of the command deck. His personal guards were close, as was one of his two deputies, Kleandridas, who was busy checking the scans of the nearby system by one of the senior dekarchos. He finished examining the details and looked up to his commander.

  “I don’t like this, Strategos, not one bit. According to the Artis routes, we should be able to refuel the fleet at the Leonis 9713 star system.”