Black Legion: Gates of Cilicia

by Michael G. Thomas

  “How is that possible?” he asked.

  “Just after the surrender on Attica, he and a delegation of senior Laconian commanders surveyed the destruction of the rest of the Alliance Fleet. I was there when he arrived. A group of engineers were supposed to destroy the Valiant, and they were actually on board when he arrived. He stormed aboard and forced them out, even physically throwing one from the entrance when he refused.”

  Xenophon took a sip from his drink and scratched at an itch on his eyelid.

  “Why?”

  “That is the interesting bit. He didn’t want to see the ship destroyed when it had performed so well in the battle. Trust me, you might have been out for the count, but she kept going. I’ve never seen a ship of the line take as much punishment and keep going.”

  “The battle? You mean our last battle?”

  ”Exactly. It seems the Valiant has a bit of a reputation amongst the Laconians, probably not helped by the disdain they show for every other ship in the Armada. Actually, it was the only ship still fighting when the surrender order was given. Not that any of us knew that at the time.”

  “I don’t remember. The last thing I saw was blackness.”

  Glaucon sighed and made to leave them for the bar. Xenophon reached out for him.

  “Hey, where are you going?”

  “You two seem to be having a great time reminiscing about your glory days in the war. I’ll get a drink in the meantime.”

  “Wait, why don’t we head down there now and see if they’re recruiting?”

  “Are you mad? I doubt they’re recruiting, and if they are, why would they want us?” asked Glaucon.

  Roxana stood up and shook her head, letting her hair flow more freely.

  “Simple, we’re heroes from the Valiant. I bet I can get an audience with him. I tell him old stories, and you two put on your best charm.”

  Glaucon shook his head.

  “No way, I’m not serving under the man that saw my brothers killed. You two can go if you like, but I’d rather work with freebooters or people traffickers than with people like them.”

  Roxana sighed angrily.

  “Fair enough. What if we can’t get on with anybody else? You heard what the freebooter said. Time is limited, and if we get stuck here, we could end up in a world of trouble.”

  Glaucon took a step away. He was looking angry, and Xenophon knew from experience that it was best to let it go. So he let him move a little further away before making his offer.

  “I tell you what. First thing in the morning, we’ll hit every stand and find us a ship and crew we can fit in with. Clearchus and the freebooters are the last option, and the choice we will only turn to, only, and I mean only, if we have no other option. Deal?”

  Glaucon grunted something at them and moved away. Xenophon looked at Roxana.

  “Is he okay?” she asked.

  He nodded slowly. “We’ve been through a lot, and the loss of his brothers hit him badly. Clearchus might be the perfect option, but it’s going to be hard, and I mean really hard, to persuade him.”

  She smiled at him. A low buzz came from her communicator. She lifted it and checked the display. Her face turned from a gentle smile to one of annoyance.

  “Dammit,” she muttered.

  “What is it?”

  “Prices on the market. They just went through the roof. The merc pay just doubled, seems they are extending the contract and limiting the field to experienced military personnel and technical crew only. It isn’t going to be easy finding a crew.”

  “With our military records that should get us somewhere, right?” he asked.

  Two Laconian men entered the bar and spotted a comrade. They marched past, and even their off-duty movement seemed militaristic.

  “Have you seen how many Laconians there are here? How can we compete with them?”

  Xenophon shrugged. He had no answers. Roxana watched them until they sat down with their friend. She turned back to Xenophon.

  “Let’s get some rest, and I’ll meet both of you downstairs in six hours?”

  “Why six?”

  “That’s when they open the place back up. We can go down there now if you want, but last time I checked, it was full of drunken Laconian soldiers. A few more hours and the staff will clear up ready for the next batch of recruits. We need to be at the front of the pack.”

  “Good idea,” replied Xenophon. He stood up and glanced over to Glaucon. He was already at the bar and throwing back a glass of some foul looking liquid. Xenophon knew well from experience that he needed to keep Glaucon as far away from women and drink as he could. The last thing they needed was a tab they couldn’t pay, or a woman chasing him for false promises.

  “I’ll let Glaucon know. We’ll see you in six, then.”

  “Don’t be late!” she said with a grin.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Tartarus Trading Post, Neutral Space

  Xenophon and Glaucon waited patiently in the main foyer as the recruitment crews and officers from a hundred ships took the resumes of the prospective candidates. They might have expected it to look more organised, but the reality was something more like a bar and marketplace than a place to get work. Along one side was a business selling armour and weapons, and they were selling hand over fist. They carried no actual weapons, but the displays were full of inert weapons to handle and experiment with. Everything was for sale, from primitive projectile weapons, to military grade pulse rifles and carbines. Xenophon was sure he spotted a Laconian assault carbine, but two guards grabbed it and took it away.

  Two expensive or too illegal? he wondered. This place is a goldmine if you have people or weapons to sell.

  All the doors in the many side rooms had been thrown open to reveal all manner of civilian, military and alien crews. Some wanted a medic or tech specialists, while others looked for entire units of troops to create whole companies of warriors. By far the largest crowd had gathered around the Arcadian mercenary Xenias. Apparently, this renowned commander was also responsible for providing a picked corps of the best fighters. This elite unit was rumoured to provide security for none other than the brother of the Median Emperor Artaxerxes, the rich and powerful Cyrus. Xenophon watched in fascination as a group of retired soldiers from a Terran world he had never heard of signed up. Each wore the same armour as the Laconians, but their headgear and colours were different. They all wore the traditional breastplates and must have been men of substantial experience to wear their gear openly.

  Must be from a Laconian colony, unless they are mercenaries that have fought for the Laconians in the past? he considered.

  Glaucon, on the other hand, was barely interested in the proceedings. He looked the worst for wear, having downed double the amount of alcohol he had intended, just six hours earlier. Though he was slower than normal, his mood did seem to have improved since his outburst about Clearchus back in the bar.

  “Where is Roxana?” asked Glaucon through misty, sick-looking eyes.

  “No idea, she was supposed to meet us.”

  “Running late, nice.”

  “I doubt that,” said a concerned but also very confused Xenophon.

  Glaucon watched something off to the side of the room with suspicion. Xenophon tracked his gaze towards a slightly damaged metal bulkhead around which were a number of cases, each stacked haphazardly on top of another. Two guards walked past and stop to speak with a man. They were busy chatting, and one of the guards pointed towards them.

  “Who is that?” asked Xenophon.

  “I don’t know, but I’ve been watching them for the last minute. He’s been asking questions, and he’s looking for somebody.”

  “Bounty hunter, must be,” said Xenophon. “You think he’s looking for us?”

  Glaucon shrugged. “Maybe, do you want to wait and find out?”

  Xenophon tilted his head to one of the doors further along where two odd creatures were speaking. They had the look of Mulacs, the famed pirates and mercenaries, b
ut with much darker skin. He moved past them. Glaucon followed, doing his best to fit in. He was bigger than the average and drew attention in a crowd. They entered a room where a dozen people played a holographic game on a large circular table. Two armies were arrayed, each with primitive armour and weapons from ages past. Xenophon was intrigued and stopped to watch, only for Glaucon to grab him and push him away and into the shadows.

  “I thought you were the smart one. We need to keep a low profile and get on a ship, fast! Did you see the announcement board coming in here?”

  Xenophon shook his head.

  “There’s a list of the most wanted from Attica, and we’re listed as terrorists. There’s a price on our heads.”

  Xenophon waited. He looked confused but said nothing. Glaucon couldn’t tell if it was worry, fear or simple confusion. Then he smiled.

  “How much?”

  “What?” Glaucon answered angrily.

  Through the door walked the stranger, flanked by two men in long black coats. All of them wore tall hats like something from Ancient Earth’s past. It was then that Xenophon spotted the firearms being carried by all three.

  Weapons, this isn’t good.

  They stopped in the middle of the room and looked about. Xenophon started talking with Glaucon, doing his best to not look suspicious in the darkness of the room.

  “I’m looking for a couple of escapees, terrorists from Attica.”

  The man held up a display unit with images of two men showing prominently. One of the men looked up at the bounty hunter and also a sideways glance to Xenophon. He shook his head and snorted.

  “Get the hell outa here. This is for mercs, not some political prisoners.”

  The man looked down to his game and continued. Xenophon did his best to slow his heart rate, but he could feel the blood pulsing through his body.

  The three men moved further inside the room and proceeded to work their way around. They checked each alcoves, table and seating area thoroughly. They came to one table where a man refused to look at them. He was busy reading something on a display.

  “Sir, look at me,” said the bounty hunter.

  The man said nothing, not even twitching at the sound of the hunter pulling his pistol and cocking the mechanism.

  “By the by-laws of this station and Krakow Agreement, I am ordering you to face me!”

  The man looked up slowly, revealing a scarred face and thick beard. The bounty hunter stared carefully at him, mentally checking his details against those on his file. It seemed to take an age before he stepped back and replaced his firearm.

  “Thank you, sir, just a routine check.”

  Footsteps announced the arrival of the mysterious blue-haired girl. She rushed inside and looked about as if trying to find someone. She spotted Glaucon but didn’t seem to acknowledge his presence.

  “There’s trouble outside, some escaped Alliance rebels or something!” she said excitedly.

  The bounty hunter moved passed her and out through the door. His two accomplices followed directly behind him, drawing their weapons and checking them. As they left, the girl tapped her head in mock salute and then danced away. As Xenophon and Glaucon looked at each other in surprise, she popped her head back around the door and towards them.

  “Well?”

  Xenophon moved first and approached her as discretely as he could.

  “We met, last night.”

  She laughed at his odd introduction.

  “I’ve signed up with the Laconians, under Teleklos. You looking for a crew?” she asked.

  Xenophon looked to Glaucon who seemed more concerned at the return of the bounty hunter than what she had to say. He turned back, but she was already making to leave.

  “Look, I saw you both and your friend in action last night. If you’re looking for a good crew, you’ll want to work with the Laconian commanders. They have the best gear and training.”

  “What about Xenias?” Xenophon asked.

  “Xenias? He’s a showman. Yeah, you might make more money, but are you here for that or to stay out of the public for a while?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve heard rumours about trouble back home. All isn’t what it seems, Xenophon, son of Gryllus. If you’re interested, meet at Hangar seventeen in twenty minutes, and don’t be late, the last recruits are signing up.”

  Xenophon tried to chase after her, but two more men entered the room. He moved back to Glaucon and the shadows.

  “What do you think?”

  Glaucon looked around and back at him.

  “We need information and that means time and money. Alliance space isn’t safe, and neither is here. Either we find a way off this rock, or we hand ourselves in. I don’t know about you, but I want some payback. Your father was killed, and a warrant is out for us.”

  Xenophon smiled grimly.

  “Agreed. We sign up for the first ship we find. We get out of here and make enough money to return to Attica. But we go back on our terms.”

  Glaucon nodded in agreement.

  “What about Roxana?” he asked.

  “You’re kidding, right? You try holding her back from another lucrative contract!”

  * * *

  The hangar area was on the other side of the station and far from the recruiting areas being used by the other merc outfits. The distinctions were obvious. For starters, there were over twenty Laconian soldiers, all in full battle attire and watching their equipment carefully. The second even more obvious sign was that an armoured transporter sat in the hangar. It was large enough to carry thirty or more people and looked very heavily armoured. Multiple turrets instantly marked it out as a military vessel. Unlike normal Laconian vessels, however, this one was marked up with the personal symbols of a man, presumably the Laconian officer in charge of this contingent. Xenophon made for the group of soldiers, but Glaucon pulled him back.

  “Look, I’m sorry about last night. If we’re going to do any paid work for mercs, I agree with you, it would be best to stay with the professionals. The last thing we need is to get dumped on some crappy freighter when we could have worked with professional crews, better weapons and military ships. Just let’s try and not end up on his personal ship, okay?” explained Glaucon.

  Xenophon nodded politely.

  “No problem, hey, they probably won’t let us in anyway, and if they did, do you think they would even let an ex Alliance officer serve on one of their sacred Titans?”

  “True,” replied Glaucon.

  There were only three more people in front of them, and they were being processed with alarming speed. Glaucon was about to speak when a gap appeared in front of them to show a Laconian officer waving him through.

  “You military?” asked the soldier.

  Xenophon nodded but said nothing. The soldier turned his head and looked to Glaucon.

  “What about your friend?”

  Xenophon answered before his friend could say something he might regret.

  “We both served in the Alliance Navy.”

  The man raised his eyebrows in surprise.

  “A little young aren’t you?”

  Xenophon wasn’t quite sure what to say when Roxana pushed past them.

  “They’re with me. We crewed on the Valiant. I’m Lieutenant Roxana Devereux.”

  The man looked at the three of them but didn’t check anything on his computer system. The harder Xenophon looked, the more he realised the man didn’t have any electronic devices near him. It was as if he was just giving a simple face-to-face interview.

  “Valiant, huh? I didn’t think anybody made it off her?” said the man.

  “Not many, but some.”

  “Okay, you’ll do,” he answered and turned to point to a series of doors behind him. “Take the second door, and join the rest of the potentials. Next!”

  The three looked at each other, all surprised that they had reached this stage without any trial or test. Roxana moved first and made straight
for the door. The other two quickly followed, not wanting to hold back in case the man changed his mind.

  “You got my message, then?” asked Xenophon as quietly as he could.

  She ignored him and pushed open the door to reveal a small room with about twenty people inside. They were an odd mixture, mainly human but all rough and angry looking. Some of the men wore old military uniforms, others security guards and at least half in scruff civilian clothes. Xenophon leaned towards her and whispered.

  “Not exactly special forces, are they?”

  “And you are?” she whispered back.

  Glaucon did his best not to laugh, but a large Laconian soldier pushed inside the room, bumping him slightly as he move inside. Behind him moved the blue-haired girl from the night before. Two more soldiers followed who then closed the door shut behind them. She ignored them and moved off to the side. A man cleared his throat and called out from the front.

  “My name is Lochagos Teleklos, and I am here to recruit experienced mercenaries to join the stratiotes in the Armada.”

  The audience of prospective recruits quietened down as they listened to the words of the Laconian soldier. Xenophon was probably the only person there that even realised a Lochagos was a military rank, the leader of the Lochos. This was a particular type of formation used by the Laconians. To the best of his knowledge, it was used for a force of around three hundred warriors. Not a large amount by any standard, but when combined with light infantry it was a force capable of a great variety of missions. He could only assume Teleklos was looking to bolster the numbers in his own small force.

  “As you already know, Lord Cyrus of the Median Empire has undertaken a programme of mercenary recruitment for service outside of the Terran worlds. It means you will be technically in the service of a foreign power. This may have implications for your legal status back home. This is an issue for you to examine, not us.”