“Roxana?”
There was a pause, and then her voice. It was dull, emotionless, and bitter.
“Yes?”
“I have a plan. We have a route out, but I need reconnaissance drones sent to three points. Get them ready. I’m taking no more chances than I have to with this one.”
CHAPTER TEN
Light Cruiser ‘Antaeus’, approaching Bijar Prime, Carduchian Wilderness
The stars appeared to slow as the rearguard moved into position. There was total silence on the command deck, and even Roxana had nothing to say. The VOB system was active, and they had the perfect view from which to watch the rest of the Terran ships. The second light cruiser Drakonis was the nearest ship, and from here it was easy to see the combat damage sustained in the previous space battle.
“How much longer?” Xenophon asked in almost hushed tones.
Kentarchos Cadmus looked to him, and now Xenophon could see the sweat running down from his forehead. Stress was like a powerful drug that pulled the very life out of a man, and the commander of the warship was clearly under a great deal of it.
“Less than a minute, and things are looking dangerous there.”
Information arrived to the ships in real-time, and icons and markers floated around on the VOB system. Most of the imagery was located in front of the fleet, that being where the battle was taking place.
“Latest data from Valediction shows the enemy has deployed into two forces. The mercenaries are formed up in a single block to engage the Titans, but the Carduchians are coming in from random angles in hit and run attacks.”
Xenophon’s brow tightened.
“And the Bactrians?”
Clearly the Kentarchos had almost forgotten about those ships. He looked back and forth at the data coming in and then to Xenophon.
“Exactly where you said they would be.”
He pointed to the small starmap still loaded on the display to their right.
“Block the fleets escaping to the border. Yes, that makes sense, assuming we intend on traveling in that direction. Still, it seems a little pointless; there is no way to block an entire sector of space.”
The ship’s tactical officer caught the Kentarchos’ attention and gave him the signal.
“Hold on, here we go,” said the Kentarchos to the rest of the crew.
One of the navigators began the countdown, and a low hum reverberated throughout the ship. The Kentarchos looked to Xenophon, took in a deep breath, and then spoke.
“You’d better be right about this. We’ll only get one shot. You have to be very persuasive.”
The arrival at Bijar Prime happened in an instant. One moment the entire fleet was traveling at the speed of light, and then in the next they had dropped to conventional combat speed. In a beautifully timed jump, the entire force arrived behind the Bactrian ships. Even Xenophon was stunned that they had managed to materialize less than twenty kilometres directly behind their massive engines.
“Perfect,” he said quietly.
The Bactrian ships might have been something of a real treat for Xenophon and Roxana to look over. He glanced at his friend and found her frowns had already faded, and she looked on in amazement at the vessels before them. There were not many, just seven ships, but each of them was an antique, a living fossil of a bygone age. The largest of them was the Grand Battleship, a vessel of similar layout to a Terran battleship, but designed in a decadent artistic style. Great curves, columns, and spires extended out at the most bizarre angles.
“I never thought I would see the day,” said Roxana, “I’ve seen pictures of these ships before on Attica. But never did I think I would see them in the flesh.”
Whether she had forgotten about the incident with the prisoner or not didn’t really matter right now. Xenophon was just glad she was back and on track. Now all he needed to ensure was that the fleet came out of the fight on top. He looked back at the view of the ships and smiled.
“The other ships are flagged and marked up like Bactrians, but if you look carefully, you can see they are much more modern.”
Roxana shrugged.
“Maybe, but somebody has spent a lot of time and money to make them look like Bactrian ships.”
Xenophon could have looked at them for days, but he could also see the icons for the rest of the fleet, as well as the enemy ships that were engaged in a long-range duel with the Terran fleet. The battle was important, but not for any kind of strategic reasons. It was simply that it would decide whether they would continue on to their final destination, or if they would be trapped and destroyed. There was also the terrible, lingering doubt in his mind as to what would happen if they were actually beaten.
Slavery is what we can look forward to, or maybe ransom back home, if we’re lucky.
Just the idea of Attica and home reminded him of his unfinished business. He and Glaucon had been forced to leave, essentially exiled from their own world for crimes that were not their fault. Worse than that, his own father had been betrayed and murdered. The survivors of the Thirty Tyrants were all written down on his mental list, but it was the face of Erika Montoya that always came to him, and the conversation he’d had on Cunaxa with Kantos, his old fencing instructor.
I have to survive, and I have to get home one day. I will find all of those responsible, and every single one of them will pay for what they have done. Montoya I will save for last.
His expression was of grim determination, and he was resolved to do whatever he might have to do.
“It’s time. We need to end this.”
He looked to the auletes who had already established a channel to the entire Terran force he’d brought to help. Xenophon’s authorization codes gave him full, high-priority communication with the ships. Xenophon tapped the temporary node fitted over his ear. It beeped quietly to confirm it was active, and then he was live with the fleet.
“This is Xenophon. Hit the Bactrians with everything we have!”
The four captured Zacynthian light cruisers were the first to fire. Then came the combined gunfire of the Elamites, torpedo boats, and the two Legion light cruisers. Plasma rounds and laser fire glanced about the hulls of the Bactrian ships. Xenophon watched in silence as the Bactria Grand Battleship twisted about to present its left flank to Xenophon’s task force.
“So it begins.”
Kentarchos Cadmus took over and began barking orders to his officers. Some were to do with targeting but most were focused on movement and shielding. Xenophon and Roxana watched as the VOB system filled with ships and gunfire.
“Is this what you expected?” Roxana asked.
The first laser blasts struck and deflected from the bow shielding. One of the officers pointed off into the distance and shouted back to the Kentarchos. The look on his face wasn’t fear or nerves; it was something else.
“What is it?” Xenophon asked.
Roxana looked to one of the many screens showing close-up views of the battle. One in particular was of the flank of the Grand Battleship. She swallowed upon seeing the vastness of the ship.
“I’ve never seen so many gun ports.”
Xenophon watched in awe as more than a hundred gun ports flashed blue. Kentarchos Cadmus had already spotted the danger and directed his effort to the tactical and engineering stations.
“Shields to maximum, push the generators to red. Transfer power to the starboard shield. Strip it from everywhere else. Fire up the interceptors, and bring us about to sixty-one point two.”
The buzz of layered shielding filled the ship as it transferred the full coverage to just the one side. It was the cloud of energy coming for the bow that focused the attention of the crew more than anything else. The light cruiser had just a few seconds, but that was enough for the vessel to pivot about like a wooden ship from so many centuries before.
One of the tactical officers counted down as the barrage arrived at incredible speed. Xenophon joined in mentally with the count, while his body braced for the inevitable impa
ct. As the last few seconds came, the Kentarchos called out to his crew.
“Now!”
The defensive system pulsed as it sent a final surge to boost the shielding. The surge came in at the very last moment and overloaded the shields less than a second before impact; the first projectiles were like a thunderclap. Every one of them depleted the energy of the outer layers, and the first six were knocked out immediately. The generators strained to the point of almost exploding. The unending volley continued, and one by one the shield generators were knocked out. They had survived the first bombardment, but only because the gunfire had been dispersed amongst the many other ships in Xenophon’s fleet.
“Send them in, all of them!” Xenophon yelled.
All of the captured Carduchian heavy fighters accelerated toward the Bactrian warship. Two were instantly vaporized under heavy fire, but the effect was immediate. Gunfire aimed at the capital ships quickly diverted to the many heavy fighters. Less than ten percent of the return fire came back to the capital ships, and it was just as well. The last volley had knocked out the generators, and with the shielding gone; the full weight of the gunfire struck the armor plating. All that could hold back the balls of energy were the interceptor guns, and they could only hold back so many.
“Topoteretes, the Strategos wants to speak with you,” said Kentarchos Cadmus.
Xenophon nodded and looked to Roxana.
“This is it. Now I have to persuade the man to leave this fight and follow me.”
No sooner had he opened his mouth to speak with the commander of the Legion, when the lights cut completely and Antaeus was left dead in space, her engines off-line, her gun inactive, and her shields gone.
“Great, just what we needed,” muttered Roxana.
“Yeah,” answered Xenophon.
The crew was already rushing about, doing whatever needed to be done. He noticed the artificial gravity was still functioning, and some of the lights were flickering back to life. He spotted the Kentarchos and signaled over to him.
“How long?”
“Not long, just hang in there.”
* * *
Bijar Prime, Carduchian Wilderness
The Battle of Bijar Prime was well underway and could be seen even this far away, but it could not be heard. Sound would not travel through the cold vacuum of space, yet the great clear domes of Bijar Prime provided a perfect view of the unfolding battle. If it hadn't been for the calamity that had befallen those on the surface, they might have been busy watching one of the greatest battles in history being fought. Mighty Terran Titans were locking horns with mixed Carduchian and mercenary forces, and with Bactrian ships in support. Deep down, under the protective domes and then even further, huddled the survivors of the Carduchian trap. A small number of bodies lay scattered, not from the attack by supposed refugees, but from the booby traps, explosives, and mines left behind. Those that remained were now under fire from the small, but vengeful number of Carduchian warriors that had lain hidden during the arrival of the Terrans.
The initial series of blasts had begun as the Terrans filed out of the great pit and back to their ships. With little intelligence to be gleaned, and multiple casualties having been inflicted by the traitors, it was not time for the Terrans to stay. They had barely made it to the surface when the traps were activated. Komes Artemis and at least six of his men had vanished under a great mound of dirt and rubble. At the same time, a series of small blasts had collapsed three sections down onto the deep shaft, and more had disintegrated all around them. The Carduchians used the middle of this desperate scene to begin their assault.
"Behind us!" Tamara screamed.
The seven remaining Terrans, including four spatharii were already struggling back down the circular path into the pit. Tamara and one of the Laconians were at the rear when she spotted the Carduchian. She didn't hesitate, not even for a second. Her pulse rifle was up at her shoulder, and then three rounds struck the Carduchian as he jumped down. The soldier was probably dead, but the Laconian was taking no chances and punched his right hand and his short blade into his chest. With a push, he threw the unfortunate soul over the edge.
"Wasn't that a bit over the top?" Tamara said.
The man looked at her, a look of amusement about his face. Tamara was certainly unlike anybody else in the Legion, yet she'd done her job and dispatched the enemy as quickly as any of his own men could have managed. His armor was surprisingly well maintained, all apart from the rough dent in the side of his helm, something that must have occurred since they landed on Bijar.
"Maybe for him," answered the Terran, in typical Laconian fashion.
Tamara grinned, enjoying the dark side of this particular soldier. She'd forgotten how much fun they could be, but only when they were faced with some kind of threat. There was nothing more boring to her than a room full of Laconian soldier with nothing to do but regale themselves of ancient battles, or maintaining their weapons. She was all about the adrenalin, and there was no better place to find it than alongside Laconians.
"This way!" Glaucon shouted.
As the ground shook, he'd spotted a pale light leading off into a narrow shaft. It was barely big enough for an armored man, yet it was the only one of its kind that led upward. The dust-covered survivors followed him into one of the many horizontal shafts that ran off like the small roots of a tree. This particular one was clearly well traveled, and its walls were constructed of solid rock rather than any kind of metal. It made little difference to them, but it was a reminder that a large part of this facility had been built into the surface of the drifting flotsam in space.
"Move it!"
Glaucon shouted to them as he vanished deep inside the darkness. The shaft was so tight that he'd only moved thirty meters before disappearing around a bend. A pair of Laconians followed, each of them helping the wounded Lady Artemas to move on through the structure. Two more Laconians followed right behind and then Tamara. They had only just made it inside when another series of dull explosions ripped through the facility and sent the small group of Terrans to the ground. Tamara rolled and struck the wall. Another great rumble shook the ground, and then a huge section of the left wall ripped apart and exposed itself down into a vast hangar bay, a space easily big enough to moor a capital ship. The two Laconian spatharii grabbed for her as she vanished over the ledge.
“Grab her!” Glaucon yelled.
The nearest needed no encouragement and caught her forearm just as she moved away from view. Another two blasts shook the ground, and this time Glaucon was knocked down but still the Laconian refused to let go. He began to slip, but his comrade threw himself at his legs and pinned him down. Tamara's head lifted up over the edge, and then they were both dragged to safety.
"Thanks, I owe you," she said with a wide grin on her face.
The nearest Laconian, the one with the dented helm laughed.
"Yeah, I'll think of something."
Glaucon looked over the teenager, half expecting to find bullet holes or a spike embedded in her, but there was nothing. The red-haired girl tilted her head and laughed again.
"What are you looking for?"
He shook his head in annoyance.
"This is no game, Tamara. We need to get back to the fleet, and fast."
The spatharios with the dented helm caught his eye.
"What's the hurry? The battle up there isn't going to end any time soon."
Glaucon nodded in agreement, but his body language suggested something very different. Tamara could see he was worried, and she was only now beginning to see why. The low rumble of collapsing sections of the facility shook everything like a never-ending earthquake.
"I know. But there are not many of us down here. How long can we last against whatever surprises they've left us? We need to find a way back to the Legion. What if they are forced to leave?"
The Terran looked at Glaucon with emotionless eyes. There was nothing about death that particularly concerned a Laconian. But like all of h
is kin, there was nothing grand about a solitary death out in the wilderness that achieved nothing. His death was perfectly acceptable, providing it had purpose. He could be blasted apart in a boarding action or cut down in the phalanx, but to die underground, and for nothing more than a booby-trap was to die a poor death indeed.
"You're right. We need to leave. What about the others, the ones we left behind? Laconians do not leave their wounded or missing behind."
Glaucon nodded, watching for a second as Tamara vanished off into the distance. He spotted the Laconian looking at him and then realized he hadn’t answered the man.
"I agree; we need to get everybody out. Right now our options are limited. The Komes has the same goal as us, though. If he’s alive, he will be looking for a way out of this place."
Tamara reappeared from checking ahead.
"No chance of continuing that way. The shaft has collapsed.”
“Uh, what’s that?” said the Laconian.
Both of them looked far below and through the crevice created by part of the tunnel dropping away. The floor was fragile and each moved carefully, desperate to avoid any more of it falling away, or even worse, to draw the attention of any remaining sleeper soldiers. Below them was the vastness of the Carduchian hangar space. Cranes and heavy machinery ran along girders, and a rail system covered one full side of the space. Open carts lay empty where they were clearly designed for the rapid loading and unloading of goods. Glaucon looked confused.
“The whole area is a space designed for a massive mercantile operation. What about it?”
“No, that,” said the Laconian.
It was hard to see, but finally Tamara spotted the shapes. At first they appeared as nothing more than dark shadows, but then they moved out from something to the right. Although the view was heavily obstructed, the shapes were clearly soldiers of some kind.
“Who are they?” Tamara asked.
Black Legion: 05 - Sea of Fire Page 16
