“Why don’t we just use gunships and lands troops the other side?”
As if to answer his question, they looked up to the sight of a heavy transport carrying upwards of an entire company of automatons. Its under body gun turrets blasted the defenders along the wall as it limped over the lowest point. Over a dozen missiles reached up like contrails from an aircraft, slamming into the thin armour. The left-side engine was torn from the stubby wing, leaving the transport with no effective power and limited lift. Two more rockets struck its underside, each one causing yet more damage to the weakened craft. With a load roar, the remaining engine exploded, tipping the craft over and forcing it to stall. The pilots exhibited incredible skill as they tried to bring it down safely, but it vanished inside the fortress, leaving an ink-black wake behind it as it moved from view. A massive roar quickly followed, and they could only assume it had crashed inside the Citadel itself.
“Poor bastards,” Xenophon muttered.
Glaucon looked back to Xenophon with a look of surprise on his face.
“Yeah, okay...Let’s get out of here!”
Helping hands reached out to pull them inside the protected interior. It didn’t take long, and when the hatch was closed, the commander gave the order for them to continue forwards. Once safe, they accelerated away from the landing zone and joined dozens of other vehicles ferrying troops and equipment to the forward lines. Artemas spoke with the officer for almost a minute. She then moved back to her friends and protectors.
“There is an avenue that runs along the length of the wall. On one side are large numbers of buildings and towers. Artaxerxes has had them all demolished to create clear lines of fire from the walls. Cyrus’ forces have taken the street and are fighting to take control of the outer wall. The commander says Meno and his men are setting up artillery positions to clear the breaches before the attack.”
Xenophon nodded at this news.
“Sounds good, about time we brought in guns of our own. What about the Emperor, where is he?”
Artemas spoke to the officer, and he nodded furiously and returned to his own computer system. He continued barking orders, and a number of his soldiers climbed up to control a series of gun turrets on the top of the vehicle. Artemas pulled a handle, and a panel moved out in front of them. With a quick tap, it changed to a tactical map of the area around the vehicle. She pointed to the series of structures inside the enemy Citadel.
“The walls and starforts are just the outer defences. The inner section is what we know as the Citadel of Cunaxa. These domes and spires in the centre are the Imperial Quarters. Artaxerxes and his guards will be based at this part of the city. The defences are strong, and he is rumoured to have thousands of his best warriors from across the Empire stationed in there.”
“Great,” answered Glaucon. “Why not bombard the place from space? We have enough firepower with Cyrus’ ships, let alone with the ships from the Legion to wipe out the entire city. Hell, we could probably wipe out the entire planet and kill every one of his commanders. We kill him, and the war is over. Then we just march to Babylon Prime and put Cyrus on his shiny new throne.”
Artemas looked to Xenophon with irritation in her eyes.
“My uncle intends to rule the Empire, not conquer it. If he shows compassion to his subjects, he will be rewarded for it. Destruction of the city will create more enemies, and there is no guarantee the Emperor will be killed. Even worse, he might die but we would never know.”
She looked to the screen once more and tapped a button. It changed to the forward view from the APC. The road they followed was littered with burning vehicles, yet even more ground forces pushed forward to the positions near the great walls.
“No, for this war to end, Cyrus will need to have his brother in chains for public execution and trial. Anything else, and we could end up with a never-ending civil war like the battle between your own people.
* * *
Laconian Titan ‘Valediction’, Cunaxa Nebula
A sharp crack like that of a thunderbolt was the first indication that something terrible had happened on board the Titan. It wasn’t just the sound from the energy fields around the ship, but the feeling of something resembling a static electric field passing through every crewmember’s body. It was quickly followed by continuous alerts and impact warnings from every corner of the command deck.
“Shields are down!” cried Kybernetes Artell.
Strategos Clearchus wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead and looked at the screens himself. He could see the systems starting to fail as well as breaches opening up on their exposed flanks. He turned from the screen and looked at the virtual projection of the unfolding battle. It was as if the Titan was a giant magnet that attracted the attention and weapons fire of every single spacecraft in the sector. He could see the steams of pulse projectiles, plasma rounds and missiles as the Zacynthians turned their guns onto the Black Legion’s flagship. The destruction of the Titan would signify potential defeat for the Legion, and therefore the entire enterprise.
Gods, this isn’t good!
The image of Chief Engineer Kafa appeared on his personal screen.
“Strategos, I’ve transferred the remaining power to protect critical areas. The energy fields are limited though, and the armour will have to protect the rest.”
Clearchus nodded grimly.
“Good work, Kafa. Do what you can. We will be there soon!”
“Strategos, you need to evacuate the gun decks on the sections I’ve indicated. These have the weakest armour and are no longer protected with the shields.”
Kentarchos Broge Monsimm noted the comments from his position on the command deck and nodded to Clearchus, evidently frustrated that this ship-related issue was wasting the time of their supreme commander.
“I’ll take care of that,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.
Clearchus watched suspiciously as a formation of five Terran and Median battleships managed to get alongside the Titan. They matched his course and speed while putting volley after volley into his flank. The status screens showed the armour plating was being shredded and blasted apart with every impact.
“Strategos, it’s Pleistoanax!” called out the Kentarchos.
Clearchus looked to his left and could see the dark shape of the elderly Laconian battleship Damnation. The great vessel moved directly into the centre of the enemy formation and opened fire with its archaic projectile weapons. They were nothing more than electromagnetic railguns, but what they lacked in technology, they made up for with rate of fire. Trails of metal projectiles ripped into the enemy, and almost immediately the incoming fire on Valediction decreased by over a half.
Good timing, Pleistoanax, my old friend.
Clearchus looked back to his tactical display and performed a number of quick calculations in his head. He could see the shield capacitors starting to increase as the firepower decreased against the shields. They had a window, so long as Damnation could keep the enemy ships occupied. The rest of the Legion had stayed almost intact with most of the major ships now through the enemy blockade. The problem was that the slower or damaged vessels were now trailing behind like a long tail. On the side of the screen were a number of indicators that marked the damage to the ship’s armour and minor systems.
That must be close enough, surely?
He looked to Kleandridas, his trusted deputy.
“How much further until we can deploy ground forces?”
Kleandridas glanced at the display near him and then checked his own system for the reports from the other ships. He stood with a small guard unit next to the tactical display and had been monitoring the datastreams coming from the planet.
“We will be in range in approximately...seven minutes, Strategos. After that, the rest of the fleet will catch up, one ship at a time.”
Clearchus took a deep breath as he calculated how many ships would arrive, and how many warriors he could land in the next few hours. It was a rough calculation, but he
reckoned if he started now, he could have most of the Legion on the ground, and within an hour. Even more importantly, he would be able to bring the Laconian heavy equipment to bear for the first time in the campaign. With the money from Cyrus, he’d been able to procure various different engines of destruction, some almost fifty years old but with long and reliable track records.
I just need to get them on the surface!
He nodded in agreement with Kleandridas at his assessment and made the mental decision to move from the space battle to preparing for the drop. It was a minor shift but would require a different mindset, one for which he was much happier managing. Without hesitation, he lifted the intercom to speak with the fleet.
“This is Strategos Clearchus, your commander. The time has come for the Battle of Cunaxa. Load your dromons and prepare your gunships for battle. You will all receive the drop-off coordinates. Once you reach the designated point, you will start drop operations and will continue until every single warrior is on the surface. Topoteretes Kleandridas will send unit landing zones and operational plans to you in the next three minutes.”
He glanced at the officers on his command deck and was pleased to see that every one of them was busy managing the ship. There were no idle hands on this vessel, and he was certain it was the main reason they were still alive. He nodded to himself happily and turned his thoughts back to the awaiting battle.
“Lord Cyrus is already heavily engaged on the ground and as expected, his attack has stalled. The reduction of a fortress such as this is the mission the Black Legion was born to do. The plan is simple and consists of four segments. First we will land and quickly stabilise the line. The encirclement of the fortifications is critical to our success. Next the stratiotes will secure the walls with speed and ferocity from the ground and the air. Once they are taken, they will use the walls to provide covering fire into the compound itself. We will unleash a rain of fire of the kind never seen before on a Median world. Under this barrage, our spatharii will carry out the fourth and final stage, to smash our way inside the Citadel of Cunaxa and end this battle. Good hunting to you all!”
He replaced the handset and turned back to Kleandridas and the ship’s Kentarchos.
“Get the dromons ready. We’re going to end this within the hour.”
With that, he stepped away from the tactical display and marched from the command deck, closely escorted by his dekas of Epilektoi. The rest of the officers continued their work, and only Kentarchos Broge Monsimm watched him leave.
* * *
Citadel of Cunaxa, Cunaxa Secundus
The small group of Anusiyans advanced cautiously, careful to avoid being spotted and picked off by the many turrets and snipers dotted along the massive walls. Xenophon, Artemas and the rest of the group brought up the rear. They’d been forced to abandon the armoured column nearly two hundred metres further back, due to the rubble and destruction. Xenophon didn’t mind that so much. He had greater faith in his Terran armour than the thin-skinned vehicles of the Medes. Even better, he liked to be able to see and react to situations. Every second they’d been inside the APC was an opportunity for all of them to be cooked alive inside its metal hull.
“Why exactly are we heading to the frontline?” asked Roxana.
Xenophon turned back and helped her up and over a broken wall. He saw a smoke trail, but the missile had another target and instead chased a low flying fighter.
“You know this place, and if we don’t win, then we’ll be stuck down here. This isn’t just about survival, Roxana. This is about ending the war!”
Artemas heard their discussion and nodded in agreement.
“He’s right. I’ve been inside the Royal Quarters many times. It could make a difference.”
Glaucon pointed to the high walls.
“There’s something else as well.”
Xenophon, Roxana, Tamara and even Artemas looked to him patiently, waiting for his reply.
“Well?” asked Tamara, quickly losing interest.
“Can a Medes really break this siege? Cyrus needs Terran help for this one.”
Roxana sighed.
“You know, Glaucon, your arrogance really is a...”
A series of mortar shells landed nearby. It shredded two of the guards before they had time to throw themselves down and amongst any of the limited protection the shattered buildings offered. Xenophon jumped inside what looked like a school but was actually an abandoned militia barracks. More shells continued to fall, each smashing into the masonry indiscriminately. There were no more casualties, but the continuous sound of impacts and explosions forced them all to ground.
“Who are they aiming at?” shouted Roxana, as she ran into the building and threw herself down. She headed for a tipped over metal unit about the size of a land car and dragged herself behind it.
“Everybody okay?” called out Xenophon.
Artemas and Glaucon waited near the entrance of the structure and glanced out to the wall. Artemas lifted her hand in acknowledgement and quickly ducked back down. The mortar barrage had slowed, but the pulse rounds from the scores of soldiers on the walls continued at the same pace. Glaucon tried to move, but a projectile quickly caught him and glanced off his shoulder armour.
“Man, what would I give for a Laconian shield generator, right now!” he snapped.
A small group of the Medes guards rushed inside and scrambled over the rubble, trying to not fall. It was the same officer they had arrived with from the APC.
“Come with me. Lord Cyrus is just ahead.”
He turned and left through the side door and was gone. Artemas chased after him. Xenophon was close behind. It fell to Roxana and Glaucon to help Tamara cover the ground. She might have appreciated their help, but the complaining and whining suggested otherwise. Out of the doorway, they moved a short distance to a number of large pieces of equipment and two destroyed APCs. Behind them were dozens of soldiers. They were operating communications equipment. Lord Cyrus and his personal guard were on the right hand side of one of the broken vehicles and busy watching the massive arched entrance to the Citadel. They pushed on until he spotted them and Artemas. He turned and grabbed her, his emotions clear to all those around them.
“Have you seen this?” asked Roxana in a quiet voice.
She pointed to their left and back along the street. Behind the ruined walls and buildings, lay hundred upon hundreds of warriors. Most were automatons, dressed in their Medes uniforms and carrying light armour and weapons. There were also small squads taken from the Anusiyans, probably to boost their morale as well as their fighting ability. She then turned and pointed in the opposite direction. Xenophon followed her gaze and found a bizarre collection of Mulac warriors waiting for their orders. They were a loose confederation of mutants, pirates and mercenaries from the border that must have signed on after the operations at Cilicia. Further away were even larger and more terrifying creatures.
“Taochi? Where the hell did Cyrus get them from?”
He looked at the muscled shapes that looked more like the Minotaurs of Terran myth than the reality of the Median Empire. They each wore armour and carried edged weapons.
“Dekarchos and your comrades, I thank you all for protecting my niece,” said Cyrus in rushed tones. Your guards units crashed on the way down here, and the survivors are with Meno and his Terrans. They should be here in the next ten to fifteen minutes.”
Tamara laughed at the news.
“So coming back for me wasn’t so bad, after all!”
Ariaeus appeared from the rubble with a group of a dozen Anusiyans. He spoke quickly and pointed to the wall. Xenophon tried to follow the conversation, but he could only identify a few of the proper nouns they used. Meno, Clearchus and Artaxerxes were the only ones clear enough for him to follow.
“Lord Cyrus, your niece knows the Citadel complex, and she could provide tactical information,” he said.
Cyrus turned to Xenophon and then to his niece. They spoke in quick but loud ton
es. He then walked away to confer with Ariaeus and his other commanders.
“Well, was that it?” asked Xenophon.
Artemas tried to smile, but her grim expression refused to bend quite that far.
“He appreciates the information, but until we are through the walls, it is useless.”
Glaucon lifted his head slightly to look up at the walls. They were certainly impressive, but he could see them representing no greater obstacle than those faced by Xenias back at the Gates of Cilicia.
“Just get him to use his heavy artillery to bring them down, easy,” he announced.
Artemas shook her head in disagreement.
“No, the heavy equipment was lost in the landing. Cyrus has invested in manpower and light armour.”
“Yeah,” Xenophon added grimly, “that’s why he hired the Legion. We have the armour, shielding and heavy weapons to reduce places like this. Even the Laconians have access to breaching mortars. Maybe Cyrus should have waited before starting the attack?”
That thought gave Xenophon an idea. He moved forward to Cyrus and was instantly intercepted by his Anusiyans. Their speed was impressive, but Xenophon had no doubts his two Asgeirr-Carbines and his own martial prowess would result in their quick deaths. He didn’t back down and stood his ground, waiting for Cyrus to turn around.
“Dekarchos, I have a battle to plan.”
He started to move away, but Xenophon inched closer.
“Lord Cyrus. Dukas Meno and his forces will have access to siege equipment. Valediction and Poseidon were the designated ships for the Legion’s equipment. You saw what happened at Cilicia without the right tools. Get him and his troops to the frontline, and he can bring down the walls and give your men the support you need to get inside.”
Cyrus looked to his commanders and spoke briefly. One walked away and to speak with their communications teams. Cyrus looked back to Xenophon.
Black Legion - The First Trilogy Page 66
