Black Legion: 05 - Sea of Fire

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Black Legion: 05 - Sea of Fire Page 15

by Michael G. Thomas


  Ariaeus looked back at him and wondered quite who that barb had been aimed at. Tirbazus seemed friendly enough, and he had far less than required to act upon, at least so far. Instead, he turned his attention back to the machine.

  “Explain yourself. Why did you fail?”

  “The enemy, they exploited the Carduchian tactics effectively.”

  Ariaeus laughed and then waved his hands to encourage him.

  “Go on.”

  The machine twisted three degrees to the side before continuing.

  “Their commander refused to break formation. When they appeared weak, the Carduchians attacked and carried out continuous assaults and feigned withdrawals.”

  Ariaeus shrugged.

  “Of course. That is what you would do against a green force of Terrans. You hit them from multiple directions and then fall back.”

  He looked to Tirbazus.

  “Predators do the same with herds of prey on the plains, do they not?”

  The Satrap smiled but said nothing. Ariaeus scowled and then looked back.

  “Can we assume that you were unsuccessful in encouraging a few ships to break away?”

  “That is correct. The Terrans were more experienced than the intelligence we were given. Our data showed that these were mercenaries, scared and panicked. Their leadership was fractured and prone to infighting.”

  The machine flexed his shoulder muscles, and for a brief moment Ariaeus found himself nearly panicking. Tirbazus watched the events unfolding before them with amusement but still remained motionless in his grand throne.

  “Go on, Tir, tell us the rest,” he said, to Ariaeus’ annoyance.

  The machine lifted itself to its former position and moved its hips. If the thing had been alive, it might have seemed it was uncomfortable, but there was no way that could have been true. Tir was a robot, an autonomous product of the self-aware machines of the Robotic Domains. He consisted of metal, plastics, electronics, and artificial neural pathways. No blood ran through his body, and no muscle could strain or exhibit pain.

  “Their fleet began to rupture, and some of their ships tried to escape. That is what we expected from the intelligence we received. This is when I ordered the assault on their command ship, a heavily armed light cruiser.”

  The machine hesitated, much to Ariaeus’ surprise.

  “It was a trap. As our formation scattered, they brought in Corvus grapples and then broke formation to pursue. The Carduchians were shattered, and many of their ships captured. Their commander is now either dead or a prisoner.”

  Ariaeus laughed at that part.

  “So now we need not worry about paying off their regional commander.”

  He looked to Tirbazus.

  “The fool wanted far more than was necessary to repair the damage done to his local facilities. He was greedy, especially when this mission was sanctioned by the God King himself.”

  There was a look on his face that followed his outburst, one of sudden recollection. He spun around and looked back to the machine.

  “The Carduchian commander. Could he have been captured?”

  “Yes.”

  The machine betrayed no emotion and no calculated response. As always, it answered the question based upon all the information it might have available. Tirbazus finally removed himself from his throne and walked down to the two of them. He examined the marks on the machine carefully, even touching a few of the deep cuts on the flanks.

  “The Carduchian commander is a warrior known as Golnaz. We have fought a dozen border wars with his forces in the last hundred years. He is a violent soldier, and he has no love for my own Satrap.”

  Tirbazus looked to Tir.

  “What happened with your attack on their command ship?”

  “My forces penetrated their fleet, and I boarded the ship.”

  Tirbazus nodded in pleasure at this.

  “Impressive. In the middle of the fight, you personally boarded their flagship, even as your forces were breaking apart.”

  “Yes. With the battle already a defeat, I attempted to salvage something. I fought inside, but their commander was waiting. We fought and lost equal casualties until they brought in more troops.”

  “And then?”

  Ariaeus walked away and then began to circle in frustration. The machine might have been watching, but its lack of neck, face, or obvious eyes made it impossible to tell. Even so, there was something about its timing that almost suggested a kind of Laconic amusement.

  “I fought my way to the ship and then withdrew. My Domain ships suffered light casualties. The Carduchian forces lost over half, with at least eighteen captured. Commander Golnaz’s ship was one of those captured.”

  Ariaeus stopped, walked, and lowered his face into his hands. He muttered to himself and then looked to Tir.

  “So you achieved what exactly?”

  The machine emitted a grinding sound.

  “I attacked their fleet, caused casualties, and delayed them enough for the primary forces to attack their Titans. Their fleet is split, and they are scattered and weak, just as requested by Lord Ruhollah. Darbabad Forouzandeh is leading the attack at his request.”

  Ariaeus was stunned at this news.

  “What primary fleet? My forces have been given no orders to attack, and what does Lord Ruhollah have to do with this? I am the Imperial commander in the field.”

  The machine twisted about at its waist to face Ariaeus.

  “Have you not received the Imperial transmission? It was sent to all command level positions in the Empire and the Imperial warships in this sector.”

  Tirbazus nodded.

  “Yes, I have. Have your crew not yet informed you? Perhaps you should speak with Lord Ruhollah.”

  Ariaeus walked to a point between the two of them and faced off against Tirbazus. His face was already reddening with anger, but the Satrap appeared unconcerned at what he could see.

  “What is going on here?”

  Tirbazus shrugged.

  “I assumed you were here as the military commander, and Lord Ruhollah is here to oversee your operation. I suggest you find out what is happening.”

  Ariaeus’ face lightened in color, but his expression was as fearsome as it ever had been. He began to move away but then stopped and looked back at Tirbazus.

  “Make sure your forces are ready. I intend on striking a blow that will end this little expedition once and for all. I want all Hayastani and mercenary ships armed and ready for battle.”

  “Of course. Where might this battle be taking place?”

  Ariaeus walked right up to Tirbazus, their faces uncomfortably close.

  “Wherever it needs to be.”

  “What of the Carduchians? They will help you, but they will not fight alongside my forces.”

  Ariaeus hissed loudly through his teeth.

  “You will all fight where I tell you, or you will all burn beneath the guns of the Imperial fleet. Do you understand?”

  Tirbazus lowered his head slightly in a gentle bow.

  “Of course, My Lord. My ships are ready and await your orders.”

  Ariaeus marched off, but it was neither a victory nor a defeat for him. All he could think as he reached the doors to the vast Royal Chamber was where he could find the bastard son of the Emperor. He moved so quickly that he almost crashed into the one person he was looking for. Coming right for him, and dressed in the full military garb of the Imperial Anusiyans, the elite royal military force of the Empire.

  “Lord Ariaeus, I bring word from Carduchia. Our fleet is heavily engaged with the Terrans. Their Titans are surrounded and they are taking casualties.”

  Ariaeus wasn’t thinking as he stepped close and drove his left fist into his face with every ounce of strength. The impact was hard as it struck the cheek, and Lord Ruhollah stumbled back and fell to the floor. He clutched at his bleeding mouth as he looked back up at the furious expression on Ariaeus’ face.

  “I am in charge of this operation. I
nterfere again, and I will have you spaced.”

  With that, he stormed passed the fallen noble and on to his waiting guards.

  “Bring me my shuttle. It is time to return to my ship!”

  * * *

  The mood inside the Royal Chamber was cool and nervous. Satrap Tirbazus had returned to his throne, and his guards waited patiently and silently at the flanks as they always had. The ceiling moved back and forth, but it was the blood dripping from Lord Ruhollah’s mouth that surprised even Tirbazus.

  “He is out of control,” complained the son of the Emperor.

  “Perhaps. But I can see his point. You sent the signal to the mercenaries and the rest of the Carduchians to engage the Terrans. Is there a reason you chose to usurp Ariaeus? He does not even seem to know you are on his ship.”

  Lord Ruhollah wiped another drop of blood from his mouth and then groaned at the discomfort.

  “I am here with specific orders from my father to ensure these Terrans pay the price for their blasphemy.”

  Tirbazus looked amused.

  “Blasphemy? Are they not mercenaries working for a legitimate member of the Imperial family? Is it their fault that they were left here after the death of Cyrus? Perhaps helping them home would have saved lives, coin, and the eternal enmity of thousands of Terran warriors.”

  Lord Ruhollah laughed at that.

  “Rubbish. The Terrans have no business in the Empire, and that is why the God King has granted me this task. Yes, Ariaeus has seniority, but if I suspect him of treachery, or if he fails at any point, it is my duty to take over. And trust me, I will.”

  Tirbazus shook his head.

  “You are a young fool, My Lord Ruhollah. Ariaeus has many faults, but his knowledge and understanding of the Terrans is not one of them.”

  Lord Ruhollah moved away, but when he turned his attention to Tirbazus, he could see the amusement in his eyes.

  “Ariaeus has spent years among their people, and his time as the right-hand ally of Cyrus gives him a unique position, one that could be vital in the long-term future of the Empire. You do understand the political rifts in the Empire right now? There are many Satraps just looking for a chance to usurp power, and this little game of cat and mouse with the Terrans is betraying Imperial weakness.”

  Lord Ruhollah shook his head and snorted.

  “Internal politics mean nothing to me, Satrap. The politics of you Satraps is a thing my father always despised. With the click of his fingers, he can send a hundred battleships to any of your worlds and raze them to the ground.”

  He spat the last word out and blood slipped out and struck the floor. One of the nearby local retainers recoiled at the great insult, while another moved out from the shadows and wiped away the blood before another word could be spoken. Lord Ruhollah moved onto the first step and put his hand down to a jeweled hilt at his side. Tirbazus needed to say nothing as Kallinos and Koni, the two mercenaries in charge of the ragtag group of ships moved to his flanks. Lord Ruhollah looked at them both and then stopped, immediately suspecting treachery.

  “You’re relying upon mercenaries to protect you now? If one of them lays a hand on a member of the Royal line, you will be executed on Babylon Prime.”

  Koni, the leader of the Ionian Corsairs moved down a step and placed his hands on his hips. His expression was of pure joy, as if he’d just won some grand prize.

  “Oh, we are not here for protection, young Medes.”

  The use of Medes was intended as a slight, an insult to his sullied Imperial heritage, of which all of them were aware.

  “Ariaeus has paid us well, and his money is paying for my warriors and my ships to fight alongside Tirbazus and the entire Hayastani Royal Fleet. We have forces that are the equal of the Carduchians.”

  The mercenary licked his lips.

  “You have no idea what is happening, do you? While you play king, your royal cousin Ariaeus has arranged for fleets in two Satrapies to deal with the Terrans. Maybe they will survive the fight with the Carduchians, maybe they won’t.”

  “Exactly,” added Tirbazus, “and whatever remains, will either die there or struggle through the Sea of Fire. I doubt a single ship will get through the great barrier, but if they do, well…”

  He then looked to both of his mercenaries.

  “Our combined forces will utterly destroy whatever is left. All without leaving my domain.”

  Lord Ruhollah gave Kallinos the same look Ariaeus had given her upon first seeing the female half-breed. He ignored Tirbazus, as though his words were nothing more than the mumblings of an old woman.

  “And what about you? Are you here as well to take coin from whichever male takes your fancy? It doesn’t surprise me that Ariaeus would look to the likes of you.”

  Kallinos shook her head and then stepped down toward him. She continued to his flank, and then without warning dropped down low and kicked into the back of his legs. Tirbazus laughed, not so much at seeing the arrogant noble fall to the ground, but more that this was the second time Kallinos had humiliated a member of the Imperial elite. Kallinos pointed to the fallen noble.

  “I do not take insults from a bastard such as you. Try that again, and I shall take what little manhood of yours that remains.”

  With a quick flick of her hand, she brought out a short, cruel looking blade. It was barely longer than a finger, but its curved edge gleamed in the bright light.

  “Enough, Lord Ruhollah,” said Tirbazus.

  He walked down the steps and signaled for the two warriors to move back. Lord Ruhollah lifted himself to his feet and faced off against Tirbazus. Kallinos slid the weapon back into a dark pouch on her flank and stepped away, but kept a steady eye on the noble.

  “You would be wise...”

  “To do what?” interrupted Tirbazus, “I’ve seen more than enough of this royal blood for one day, and it is proving a little too thick for my liking.”

  He pointed to the doors at the end of the chamber.

  “I have my goals and so do you. I suggest you rejoin Lord Ariaeus and find a way to ensure these Terrans do not make it to my territory. Because I promise you, if a single Terran ship enters Hayastan, I will destroy it, along with every other ship I find, and the credit will go to the Royal Satrapy of Hayastan, not Ariaeus, and certainly not you.”

  * * *

  Light Cruiser ‘Antaeus’, Terran Rearguard, Carduchian Wilderness

  The noises from within the room were enough to send Xenophon to the other end of the ship. Much that he wanted to, he refused to leave his post and waited patiently, listening to the reports coming in from the command deck. His earpiece buzzed with information from the Kentarchos.

  “Xenophon, you’ve got three minutes to give me a new course before we reach the point of no return.”

  “Understood. Any news from the Strategos?”

  Even though they were half a ship apart, Xenophon could easily tell the man was under a great deal of stress. There was a great battle already underway, and nearly a third of the fleet was potentially leaving them out on their own.

  “Yes,” he finally answered, “The Strategos is furious. They are under attack by mercenaries and Carduchians, and all of this is being orchestrated under the command of the ship we ran into recently.”

  The Legion had run into many ships, but this piqued Xenophon’s interest. He began to speak when the door finally opened and out came the Scythian. The first thing Xenophon noticed were dark stains on his hands. At first, he suspected the worst, but as the shadowy figure emerged from the shadows, he could see it was nothing more than the light playing tricks.

  “Kentarchos, I’ll be in touch within the minute.”

  Xenophon then turned his attention to the expert interrogator.

  “Well?”

  The Scythian waited as he considered his words carefully. Finally, his mouth opened, and Xenophon almost choked with anticipation at what he was about to say.

  “The Carduchian is their regional squadron commander.
His name is Golnaz, and his mission was to harass our ships. His orders changed at the arrival of a new Imperial ship, the Boubak. He was then given new orders to assault and pin us at the rear, while their alliance of ships attacked the Titans under the command of Darbabad Forouzandeh.”

  “Alliance?”

  The Scythian nodded.

  “Yes. The Imperials have organized multiple forces to slow our advance. Right now the Carduchians are attacking, but mercenaries and a number of Bactrian vessels support them. Their ships are already attacking the Strategos, and there are more ships waiting on the other side of the border.”

  Xenophon was almost relieved at what he heard, not so much that he now had information, but more that his convictions had been proven correct. The decision he had made on his own weighed heavily on his mind.

  At least the price was worth it.

  “Tell me about the border?”

  “The Hayastani have mobilized their own forces plus mercenaries. They will not cross the border, but they will attack any ship, Terran or Carduchian that crosses without permission.”

  Xenophon’s mind was already moving on to the general strategy. Chirisophus was clearly in a great deal of trouble, and the fleet itself was in danger of a complete defeat.

  “What about the Sea of Fire? Do you have a way through?”

  The Scythian nodded.

  “Yes, there are three points at which the border can be crossed. The two nearest cross two border fortresses. The third is unprotected, but the Satrap is waiting there, along with his entire fleet.”

  Xenophon considered the information but not for long.

  “You have coordinates for these locations?”

  The Scythian nodded slowly.

  “And the information, is it accurate?”

  For the first time the interrogator looked positively offended at the suggestion.

  “My information is always accurate. My people are experts in the arts of combat, intelligence, and subterfuge. If I say that my information is accurate, you can take that as a guarantee.”

  Xenophon knew the man was right, but with the fate of so many now in his hands he had to be certain. He tapped the earpiece and connected to Roxana who was on the command deck.

 

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