Black Legion: 05 - Sea of Fire

by Michael G. Thomas

  Glaucon tensed himself and then waited. He expected a few shots, but the Laconians clearly had other things in mind. A great ripple of carbine fire announced that all of them were shooting, and not one was sparing the ammunition. The loud growl from the shielded gun platform easily drowned out the others, and one Laconian went down with a hole the size of a fist in his chest. The weapon had finally penetrated the shielding and easily tore through his armor. Tamara looked to Glaucon and then indicated toward the mercenaries.

  “Ready?”

  He nodded.

  “Let’s go.”

  Their movement forward was careful, not some grand assault. Each step was planned to be quick, smooth, and cautious. They both stopped at least twice, relying upon the basic principle of advanced species following their evolutionary heritage to look for movement. The Medes, Carduchians, and Terrans had all evolved on a similar path, with each becoming the top predator in their own spheres. Though some were larger or stronger, they all relied upon spotting changes, and a fast moving Terran was always easy to spot. Glaucon saw one of the soldiers begin moving toward them.

  “Down!”

  Tamara dropped to one knee without hesitation. She was small and fast, hitting the ground so quickly it looked like she’d fallen. Tamara lifted her Doru Mk II rifle to her shoulder and took aim. It was a long practiced procedure, something she’d done hundreds, perhaps thousands of times. The long weapon was designed for long-range work and fired armor piercing, high explosive pulse rounds at incredibly high velocities. Atop the synthetic body was a customized sight, with an integral rangefinder and targeting array.

  “They are in sight.”

  Glaucon lay down low on the floor, making as much use of the lower profile to protect him. The flank to the mercenaries was out in the open, and once they joined the battle, they would certainly come under intense fire. His more powerful weapon was capable of putting down considerable sustained fire, but it was the first shot here that counted. Striking the frontal shield of the weapons platform would serve no purpose, and would be more likely to draw their ire. The gunfire between the two sides was still considerable, but the Laconians were staying put and making a grand show of things.

  “Drop them!”

  Tamara nodded and then checked one last time. She had a bewildering number of targets, from the gunner through to the gun assembly itself. Something told her to disable the gun, but she was also well aware that it might take a dozen well placed shots to accomplish that.

  Kill the man and you kill the weapons...for a time.

  She remembered the maxim that she’d heard before from some of the Terran junior commanders. On this particular occasion, it was clear why they thought this. There were other targets, of course. One mercenary carried a large, shoulder mounted gun system, and another a Gatling gun at his waist. But there was nothing approaching the firepower of the gun platform. From where Tamara was positioned, it looked like a tripod mounted anti-aircraft system with inbuilt shields. Again it fired, and the blast of energy saturated the Laconians.

  Yes, the gunner first.

  A gentle squeeze was all it took, and the gun kicked into her shoulder. The high-velocity slug penetrated the side of the soldier’s helmet and crashed through his temple. That was no cry or groan, just a spinning figure that slumped to the ground. Immediately, the gun mount stopped firing and was replaced by a series of shouts.

  “Good work,” said Glaucon.

  He took aim and pulled the trigger on his pulse cannon. It shuddered as he released a dozen rounds into the mercenaries around the gun mount. His rounds struck just a moment after Tamara’s precision shot. Although Glaucon only hit one of them, the rest of his fire confused them. That was the perfect opportunity for the Laconians, and they were already on their feet. As he fired another burst, he could see two of the mercenaries were turning to escape.

  “Tamara, look to...”

  “I see them.”

  Two thuds marked her shooting, and two more of the enemy went down.

  “Move in.”

  The two rose to their feet and moved at a fast walking pace. Every ten steps one of them would stop, take aim, and then fire. The next would move past and do the same. This way they covered the ground to the flank of the battle while ensuring that one of them was always covering the other. Eventually, they were within a hundred meters of the last stage of the battle. Both groups of Laconians had moved together and presented a loose phalanx, with layered shielding and their carbines ready to stab or shoot.

  “Follow me,” said Glaucon.

  He went further to the left and took cover behind a tipped over wheeled loader. The yellow vehicle was damaged but not from the battle. It was either from neglect, or more likely from sabotage prior to the Carduchians abandoning the place before their arrival.

  “What now?” Tamara asked.

  Her long red hair flowed behind her as she leapt up onto the side of the overturned vehicle and then rested her rifle on the edge. She took careful aim, but this round bounced off the chest plate of the mercenary she had aimed at. There were now just five left, and each moved back into position around the Taochi warrior.

  “Look.”

  Glaucon pointed to the right. The Laconians were advancing a pace at a time and in complete silence. With each step, they fired a double volley from their carbines and then kept on. Every single return shot bounced off their shielding. Two of the mercenaries shouted something and then ran away from their group and toward Glaucon and Tamara. At first it looked like an attack, but it soon became clear they’d not noticed the two far off to their side. They approached the flank of the Laconians, ready to shoot at them behind their protective shielding.

  “Drop them!”

  Glaucon and Tamara put a dozen rounds into them, and neither even knew what had hit them as they fell. Now just three mercenaries remained, and to a man they threw their weapons down and lifted their hands in surrender. Only the Taochi warrior refused. Instead of dropping his weapons he pulled out a pair of long curved blades, howled, and then ran toward the Laconians.

  * * *

  Lady Artemas had slipped to the ground, but even as she lay there, she kept both of her hands pushed firmly against her wounds. Around her a dark pattern marked where a small but growing pool of blood had gathered. She groaned and then forced herself to silence. She could see Glaucon and the others in front of her, but as she shook her eyes open, they vanished, to be replaced by nothing.

  What’s happening?

  She must have lost consciousness or simply drifted off, in any case there was no sign of her friends. Not even the Laconians were in sight. She moved her hand to the ground and pushed into the thin layer of blood.

  Great.

  Something passed her, a blurred shape of a creature, perhaps a man. She reached to her side and found the pistol still waiting in its holster. It was a Terran weapon, a gift from Xenophon. He’d explained it could become some kind of an heirloom, given time. It was made from the parts of more than a dozen different weapons, and he’d spent several days getting the thing assembled and tested.

  “Lady Artemas, come with us.”

  The voice was firm and clearly Terran. She opened her eyes and tried to focus, but her vision continued to blur in and out. The shape came nearer, and then she could make out the Laconian armor.

  “It’s me, Komes Artemis.”

  She smiled happily, but her voice was now slurred and confused.

  “Your name is like mine.” They were her last words as she passed out.

  A bolt of hardened metal struck the wall and embedded itself half a meter before stopping. Another struck the Komes’ flank, but his shield generator just about managed to deflect the object.

  “Laconians, to me!”

  His two comrades, plus the three from Glaucon’s small force moved with him to create a small shield wall in front of the fallen lady. Tamara ran behind them and helped her to her feet. Glaucon was close behind her and put one of Artemas’ a
rms on his shoulder. She was light and little problem for him to carry.

  “What now?” asked the Komes.

  “We get the hell out of here before more arrive! You heard the news from the fleet. They are going to leave any moment now. Want to be here when the Medes turn their attention on this little rock?”

  * * *

  Terran Titan ‘Valediction’, Bijar Prime, Carduchian Wilderness

  Strategos Chirisophus paced back and forth on the deck of Valediction. He looked calm, almost rested as the bloody battle continued on all around him. Off to his right was a holographic shape of Dukas Xenias that watched him like a hawk as he moved about.

  “Look, I don’t care what Xenophon has to say. I’ve already told you. We cannot afford to turn our backs on the fleet. The survival of this legion will not be determined by running away. We stand and fight!”

  Directly to their right was a group of Carduchian heavy fighters, along with a trio of mercenary cruisers carrying the markings of a faceless organization. Heavy cutters arced back and forth between the large vessels.

  “Strategos. You are consigning the entire fleet to destruction. Both Xenophon and I advise you to change this course of action. He has a plan, one that could allow us free passage and to strike a major blow against our enemies. You have seen his intelligence summary.”

  The Laconian commander spat on the ground.

  “I am in charge of this fleet, and I will not skulk away from this battle.”

  Even as he said the words, one of the Terran cruisers blasted apart under the concerted bombardment of more than a dozen enemy ships. Through the wreckage came the Carduchian heavy fighters, and once more they proceeded to pour fire into the ships.

  “What of Xenophon’s route through the Sea of Fire? If he is correct, the entire Hayastani fleet is waiting for us on the border. We can use Xenophon’s plan to avoid them and perform a single long-range jump directly to the Hayastani capital.”

  Chirisophus looked positively furious at the Dukas’ words.

  “It’s time for our Titans to show their true power. Too long we have cowered when all it takes is the correct application of force.”

  His voice was calm, yet betrayed a desperate desire for success. He connected to the other ship commanders to give his orders, and then moved his hands about at the screen to tag the most powerful mercenary ships.

  “This is the Strategos. All ships are to converge on the Titans and to support them in their assaults.”

  He licked his upper lip and then spotted the shape of Xenias nearby. He snarled at the sight of the man and would have struck him down there and then if he’d actually been there. Instead, the Dukas shook his head and pointed right at him.

  “This channel is still open, Strategos. Every commander in this fleet can see what is happening. You are sacrificing the fleet for Laconian glory. Dukas Timasion, Xanthicles, Cleanor, and Philesius have taken a vote from their officers; they have lost faith in your command and choose to follow Xenophon’s advice, under my provisional command.”

  He paused and Chirisophus stormed toward the hologram and swung at it impotently. He struck three times before finally stopping and howling into the artificial object.

  “How dare you usurp my orders? I am the elected Strategos, and you will...”

  Xenias looked completely unfazed at the verbal tirade from the Laconian. He lifted his hands and shook his head.

  “No, I will not. We jump in seven minutes. Make sure your fighters are loaded and you follow the coordinates. It is time we left this disaster of Carduchia, one entirely of your making.”

  He looked away to something nearby and then glanced toward the Strategos.

  “Your arrogance has cost us hundreds of casualties already. Show leadership and help get the Legion out of here. Defeat at the hands of barbarians is no great honor.”

  He then turned his back on the Laconian. From the way he moved it appeared he was speaking into something, and it was clearly not specific to the Strategos. Two flashes followed, and then he disappeared.

  “Where has he gone?” Chirisophus demanded.

  The auletes pressed a number of buttons until a video stream of the Dukas appeared. This time is was different.

  “Strategos. I have him. The Dukas is transmitting to every ship in the fleet.”

  With a simple gesture, the Strategos forced the man into silence and then moved closer to the display. He could now see the details on the Dukas’ face, and it did little to improve his mood. He looked to the crewman and snapped at the unfortunate soul.

  “Make it louder.”

  The man made apologetic noises and increased the volume from the feed.

  “...Xenophon is taking the lead aboard Antaeus, directly into the Sea of Fire. Once inside, it is critical that all ships stay within visual range. It will be all but impossible to scan when inside the Sea of Fire, and our shields will be useless. The two of us...”

  Strategos Chirisophus shook his head and looked back to his crew. His face was red and boiling with rage

  “Ignore this imbecile. Laconians do not need to take lessons from an Attican boy and his Arcadian friend. I would rather take tactical advice from a Thespian.”

  * * *

  Scythian class battleship ‘Mithra’, Bijar Prime, Carduchian Wilderness

  The battle of Bijar Prime was well underway even before Mithra and the vessels from the Robotic Domains had arrived. They swept in to the flank of the Carduchian force and immediately added their own fire to the battle. Heavy cutters struck the shielding of the ship, but they were safe for now. Tir’s collection of unusual and heavily armored vessels moved out to form a strong cordon around Mithra. With no living crews, the ships were open, exposed, and armored only around their power units and weapons. This removal of a requirement to keep a crew alive meant that kilogram for kilogram the robotic ships were substantially more powerful and resilient. Even deadlier was the fact that each ship contained an unknown number of strong metal warriors. He could see the shape of the Titans and instantly felt nerves in his stomach. He’d seen them fight, and he knew their power only too well.

  “Report!” said Ariaeus.

  The Darbabad answered without moving from his position.

  “My Lord, the enemy is surrounded and being attacked by Carduchian and mercenary ships. There is a single Imperial Battleship. It is the Boubak.”

  Ariaeus seemed unimpressed at these words, especially the mention of the other ship. He remained as impatient as ever to take command of his ship, and found the lack of information to be stifling. The small gunnery screens on the flanks of the deck showed snippets of the battle but nothing more than that. It was the Darbabad and him alone that had the full picture of the fleet and the battle that was being fought all around them. He left the screen and approached the black obelisk structure from where the Darbabad controlled the ship.

  “Where is the Boubak?”

  “It is in the second line, behind the Bactrian ships. There is a message coming in from Darbabad Forouzandeh. She wishes to offer her support for the operation.”

  Ariaeus hissed under his breath and looked back at the shape of Lord Ruhollah, still kneeling on the ground and with his arms chained to loops of the floor. His armor had been removed, and there were marks on his flesh where Ariaeus had set the machine Tir to work on him. The massive robot commander waited in silence along the fallen noble, with small traces of blood still showing on the edges of his hammers.

  Yes, they all thought it would be funny to usurp me.

  He looked out to the rest of his crew and to the Darbabad in particular.

  “Put me through to the fleet.”

  The Darbabad hesitated, and Ariaeus gestured toward Tir. The great machine took one step closer before the Darbabad changed his mind. In just a few moments the image of Darbabad Forouzandeh appeared on the communications screen. Ariaeus would have preferred to use the command system integrated into the obsidian shell.

  “It is done, My L
ord.”

  Ariaeus didn’t bother to acknowledge the man and simply looked at the tactical disposition of his forces. The Terrans were formed up in a strong defensive laager, while his polyglot forces were spread out like a crescent and hitting them with continuous waves. Every few seconds a flash would mark the point at which plasma weapons or heavy lasers struck their targets. It was a slow, attritional battle, but with at least one Terran cruiser burning from bow to stern. Small shapes around it showed a mixture of dromons and fighters.

  “Good, they are trapped and busy trying to save their comrades.”

  He was speaking to no one in particular, just pleased at finally having found his quarry. His last words as he’d left Babylon Prime had been a promise to find and destroy the Terrans, but even he had been unconvinced he would find them so soon. A smile began to form on his face as he realized he had a chance to do what even Tissaphernes had failed to do. He checked the audio channel and sent his Imperial override code, something only high-level commanders ever had access to.

  “This is Ariaeus, your Imperial operative and commander of this fleet. I am...”

  The audio transmission stopped as another command code overrode his on the secure channel. It was instantly followed by a calm female voice. The voice blocked him out, and he quickly realized that the commander of the Boubak was speaking.

  “Under the authority of Imperial High Command, I, Darbabad Forouzandeh pledge my forces to the divine authority of the God King and his operative Ariaeus. We welcome you to battle.”

  He raised his nostrils as he listened to her words.

  What? She seeks to undermine me in the middle of battle.

  He pressed the override button and again it prioritized his message over anything being currently transmitted.

  “Continue the attack. Today we will end what Tissaphernes failed to do back at Cunaxa.”

  It was an unnecessary jibe, but after the calamity that had befallen him, Ariaeus simply could not resist the urge to remind the others as to the failure of his rival. There was more though, and he knew it. Tissaphernes had proven unreliable, and his departure back to his own territory had raised eyebrows. Was he quite the loyal subject he’d told everyone, or was his support only partial? A victory for Ariaeus would see his status rise while his rivals could do no less than plummet to obscurity.