Black Legion: 05 - Sea of Fire

by Michael G. Thomas

She pointed at the shape of the last Titan, and it was busy firing its engines to change its course. For the briefest of moments, Xenophon wondered if the Laconian officer had decided to risk it all in one last attack on the man he clearly despised. To his amazement, and obvious relief, the huge vessel twisted about and unleashed an overwhelming barrage against the Super-Elamite battleship. Beam after beam struck into the gaps in the shielding before a number of Robotic Domain ships intervened.

  He might be a pain, but when he gets stuck into a fight, there are fewer you can rely on.

  * * *

  Mercenary Raider ‘Havoc’, Bijar Prime, Carduchian Wilderness

  Komes Artemis tapped Glaucon on the shoulder for the third time in a row. The nose of the stubby craft was cramped and could barely fit two people inside, let alone the two of them plus Tamara. Right in front of them were a number of transparent panels that could easily have been glass. There were two pilots’ seats; one of which had been removed and replaced with a gunnery control mount, seat, and manual targeting system. Tamara had already wedged herself into the unit and was busy controlling the chin quad cannon mount.

  “I’m busy, Komes,” said Glaucon.

  His voice was stern and tense, but that wasn’t good enough for the Laconian. He tapped him again, and this time refused to take no for an answer.

  “Lady Artemas is stable. My soldiers have used their medical kits as best as they can. She needs proper medical attention if she’s going to survive.”

  Glaucon shook his head and then pulled on a stick. The short craft spun about on its axis, and its two powerful engines groaned as they forced out even more power. The belly of the vessel was fat and ungainly, perfectly designed for carrying a platoon of mercenary soldiers or a haul of looted treasure.

  “I know.”

  They were the only words he could spit out as the gravitational forces of the hard manoeuver pushed them all deep into their seats. Even as the craft spun about, Tamara continued to fire. Each time the gun mount released its ancient kinetic rounds the unit would vibrate.

  “Look!” Komes Artemis said.

  He pointed ahead where dozens of flashes were all that remained of the entire Terran fleet. The mood shifted in the cockpit until Tamara yelled at them.

  “Some of the ships are left, and the cruisers are coming this way.”

  Glaucon looked at the three computer displays laid out in front and below the main window. Two were targeting systems, but one showed a three-dimensional model of the nearby sector of space. Large segments of the data made no sense, but one ship in particular was on a strange course.

  “What are they doing?”

  The Komes looked at the data, but it meant almost nothing to him. He had little, if any experience in the world of starship combat and navigation. Even Glaucon found himself at a disadvantage here, but at least the computer understood. Dotted lines showed the projected path of the ship, and to both of their amazement, it would bring the cruiser around and behind them before slowly overtaking.

  “They want to attack us front behind?” Komes Artemis asked.

  Tamara took aim at a passing Carduchian heavy fighter and raked it from bow to stern. The quad gun mount unleashed a lethal burst that battered the shielding and knocked one of its engines as it drifted on by.

  “No,” said Glaucon, his tone already changing, “They aren’t attacking. They are going to try a rotational pickup.”

  He lifted his hand and pressed a series of buttons before looking back at the man.

  “You’d better hold on. This is going to be very interesting.”

  While he made subtle adjustments, he also hit the communications system to transmit once more. Based on the fact they hadn’t been targeted by the Terran ships, he assumed they must have heard their last message.

  “This is Glaucon of the Black Legion. I have wounded spatharii and survivors from the ambush on Bijar Prime. I assume the approaching ship, Antaeus, is moving on a rotational pickup.”

  He considered what to say for a second.

  “If this is your intention, please provide confirmation.”

  Almost immediately a double blast from the nearby cruiser’s forward gun flashed past their nose. The shot was close but clearly intended to miss them by some margin.

  “Very well.”

  He looked back to the Komes.

  “This is going to be a difficult one. Make sure everybody is buckled in tight.”

  He nodded, disconnected himself, and rushed aft to the central cargo area. Now it was just him and Tamara left in the cockpit.

  “How are we doing?” he asked.

  “Oh, just great. Just keep bringing me targets.”

  He glanced at her and watched as the light from the targeting matrix flashed across her face. She was concentrating hard, but each time she pulled the triggers, he was sure he could see something close to pleasure.

  She’s a strange one.

  “Well, hold on, this is going to be tight.”

  It took four more minutes for the cruiser and its escorts to move on the new vector and to approach from behind. The ship was still rotating as it came around, and Glaucon did his best to match the rotational speed. Unfortunately for them, the only accessible hangars were those on the flanks, and that meant he would have to be alongside the ship as it passed. By the time the two were alongside each other the distance was just seventy meters, and the cruiser was starting to move past.

  “Uh, Glaucon, do you think we should be...”

  He lifted his left hand to silence Tamara.

  “Hold on!”

  He hit the retro system, and with a grinding lurch the craft pushed hard to the right. Normally, it would have been almost impossible to tell they were moving sideways, but with a massive light cruiser alongside it was easy to see. Closer they came until Tamara was convinced they would hit the hull. Both craft were slowly rotating but as they met, the mercenary raider slid into the hangar and struck its dorsal plating along the top of the opening.

  “We’re going to hit!” one of the spatharii shouted.

  Glaucon ignored the man, and with every last piece of concentration he activated three more thrusters to twist the craft inside the tight confines of the ship. It was an impressive piece of piloting, perhaps the best he’d ever managed. But that couldn’t alter the fact that the space and the vessel were simply mismatched. The external antenna was the first part of the raider to be torn off. Then the alarms sounded, and everything inside the vessel shut down. Even the glass cockpit went dark, either by accident or by design.

  “Glaucon!”

  He opened his eyes and felt a stabbing pain at his brow. Glaucon lifted his hand to his face and immediately felt a stinging pain. His vision was fine, though, and from his position in the craft, he could see the entire front of the raider had jammed hard against one of the inner hangar doors. There were people outside, looking in at him and talking, but their voices were muffled and confused.

  Move it, you fool. Get out!

  He twisted and pulled until he was partially out of his seat.

  “Well, we obviously made it,” he said quietly. Then he remembered his cargo. Glaucon twisted his neck and immediately regretted it. Off to his left was Tamara, out of her straps and helping to unclasp him. She moved quickly and darted about to pull on the levers and straps to release him. A small group of men moved to the side with projector units and pumped foam against a series of sparks. At is cleared, he saw it wasn’t foam but a fire retardant mist.

  “Glaucon, are you with me?”

  He nodded.

  “Did we make it?”

  Another figure came alongside her and looked down to him.

  “Roxana?”

  His friend smiled and reached out a hand to help.

  “Of course, you thought I would leave you all out here to die?”

  “This is the Kentarchos, thirty seconds to jump. Seal all doors and activate breach shields. Twenty-five seconds.”

  Roxana helped pull
Glaucon from his seat and put some of the weight onto her shoulder. They made it four steps before Glaucon asked the question he dreaded.

  “Artemas and the others?”

  Roxana nodded calmly.

  “They all made it. Each of them is heading to the medical bay. Xenophon is going with them.”

  They were now in the cargo hold where the rest of the survivors had been waiting. There was just one of them still remaining, Komes Artemis. He looked at Glaucon and then moved to help him out of the Raider.

  “I wouldn’t say that was the best flying I’ve ever seen, but it was the best timed escape I’ve ever seen.”

  “All hands, prepare to jump...jump!” said the voice over the loudspeakers.

  A low groan spread through the ship, and then in an instant the light cruiser was accelerating toward the speed of light. Even Glaucon was amazed at the thought of them leaving this place in such a hurry. He steadied himself and found that although his head was hurting, the pain was already subsiding. Roxana watched him carefully, expecting him to fall at any moment.

  “What’s the plan, then?” he asked.

  Roxana pointed to the mercenary ship.

  “It’s not just guns for hire out there. We came across a massive force of Carduchians, as well as ships from the Robotic Domains. But who do you think is in charge of this entire little affair?”

  Tamara moved up beside them.

  “Tissaphernes?”

  Roxana shook her head.

  “Try Ariaeus. It looks like he’s been tasked with stopping us.”

  Glaucon’s mind seemed to be working more slowly than normal, but even in this state, he found that idea to be very strange. Tamara pulled at him, checked he was not heavily wounded, and then left to follow the Komes and his spatharii.

  “I’ll see you on the command deck.”

  She moved quickly and vanished before Glaucon could even reply. His mind was full of explosions, battles, and the memory of the incredible landing they had just performed while in the middle of a massive battle. He turned his attention to Roxana.

  “Ariaeus is here, but there’s no Imperial fleet? Why would they send him with nothing but a few ships? I thought this was a raider force sent by the Carduchians?”

  Roxana shook her head.

  “He’s not with Imperial ships, but he might as well have been. We’re facing Bactrian warships and more mercenaries than I’ve seen outside of our own Legion. They are here to do his work for him, and that must mean he’s been sent with money but no military support.”

  They walked in the direction taken by Tamara and the spatharii. Glaucon grinned as they went along. They all had a very good idea as to how the Medes political system worked. The wealth, distances, and resources were legendary on Terran worlds, but those that had experience of their hierarchy often wondered how the structure was able to maintain itself.

  How have they been stable for this long? Glaucon wondered with much amusement.

  The Emperor was always the top of the system, the supreme leader and nothing short of a mortal god. Beneath him were his trusted advisors, each of which would be promoted or executed on a whim. This continual rivalry pushed the ambitious up high, and often left the most suitable to rot and die. Then came the Satraps, kings in their own right, and the supreme leaders of their Satrapies. They could be replaced by the God King and were the true power of the Empire. Glaucon smiled at Roxana as the pieces began to drop firmly into place.

  “Artaxerxes is a strong opponent. We saw how he maintained order amongst his own forces. Clearchus saw him as a necessary evil, and Lord Cyrus himself placed a lot of weight behind him. But if Artaxerxes has just sent this one agent and such a vast treasury, he must have other problems.”

  “The Satraps?” Roxana offered.

  “Exactly.”

  Glaucon steadied himself and could already feel his body was returning to normal, even if the aches and pains of the crash landing had left him feeling jaded and more than a little numbed.

  “If he wants to remain in power, he will have to focus the energy of the Satraps. A weak leader could allow them to work together, and they would have him exiled in a day. He needs to keep them busy by either fighting his enemies, or each other.”

  Roxana gave him a shoulder to assist, and they moved from the craft and inside the ship. Glaucon could smell sweat and oil, but the crew were moving about fast, and the ship seemed to be in good shape. He looked at her.

  “Ariaeus has one chance for victory. He’s been cast out, and this is his opportunity for redemption. He failed before, just like Tissaphernes did. I suspect that sack of dung is already on his way home or dead. If Ariaeus fails, he will join him on the short route to ignominy.”

  “Exactly,” said Roxana, “Either way, Artaxerxes wins. He will rid himself of Ariaeus or us, or perhaps both, while keeping his Satraps busy. They can’t rebel or cause trouble when they are too busy watching their own backs as we sail through, can they?”

  Plans within plans ran through Glaucon’s mind, but each of them required local contacts, friends, allies, and supplies. No matter what he tried, it always came back to them being in a weak position.

  We need an edge, something to give us the advantage.

  Roxana grunted as Glaucon stumbled, and she was forced to take most of his weight as he steadied himself. Roxana continued to speak.

  “Ariaeus has to show the Emperor something, a result that will win him favor and support at the Royal Court. His only other choice is exile or death.”

  “Or to join us?”

  They passed a Terran crewman who was busy installing a new power core into a secondary shield unit. More crew carried equipment, and the corridor quickly became cramped and hot. They pushed their way through and out into the next part of the corridor. Roxana grabbed his arm and pulled him onward.

  “He won’t join us, not while he thinks there is a chance to beat us. And even if he did, would any of us trust him after what we’ve seen so far?”

  Glaucon shook his head.

  “Hell no, not while we’re strung out like this. We negotiate from strength. Anything less leaves us vulnerable.”

  They moved on a short distance and then rounded a corner where half a dozen warriors waited. Komes Artemis was there and nodded politely at Roxana before entering the poorly lit room. They followed and found the senior officers poring over screens of data. Glaucon, however, was stunned at the view offered by the advanced VOB system. He could see the facility they had recently vacated, but also the shape of the Laconian Titan blasting away at innumerable enemy ships.

  “Incredible. Where is the fleet? Who is in charge?”

  One of the men turned around to face him.

  “Xenophon.”

  The two grabbed onto each other in a firm embrace that lasted several seconds. Finally, the two friends separated, and Xenophon pointed to the space battle.

  “As you can see, we are rather busy in this fight.”

  “What of the fleet? Where at the other Titans?”

  Xenophon sighed.

  “It’s part of a plan, one I hope will save all of our necks.”

  Glaucon’s smile vanished as quickly as it had arrived. He looked back to the VOB system and did a quick count. As far as he could tell, the bulk of the Terran fleet was now gone, and less than ten ships remained against an enemy force that outnumbered them at least ten to one.

  “Really? And that meant sending away over half of the fleet? Maybe we should have a look at this plan, you know, just in case?”

  Glaucon rubbed his forehead and temples, gladdened by the fact that the pain was already subsiding. He looked at the Kentarchos who was busily giving out orders in the middle of their trip. Even though they were out of the fight, the alert alarm continued to run, though at a greatly reduced volume.

  “Stand ready, we will arrive in less than ten minutes.”

  Xenophon pointed to the starmap. There were two quadrants, with the vast Sea of Fire separating them. S
hapes marked out the fleets and groups of ships from the many different factions.

  “I have sent the fleet to this point, in the Sea of Fire.”

  Glaucon looked at the imagery and shook his head. His expression was a mixture of shear horror and astonishment. The Sea of Fire was little known outside of the Empire, other than for its mythical treacherous trade routes and devastating storms.

  “You sent the fleet to a point where shielding and communications will be non-existent? How will we even navigate our way out?”

  “I have also given orders for the Strategos to follow while venting. Ariaeus will know where we are.”

  Xenophon pointed at a series of waypoints.

  “I have intelligence on this area. Tirbazus has positioned the bulk of his fleet to watch the border of the Sea of Fire. While the fleet assembles here, I have an entirely different destination for us and the Strategos.”

  Glaucon couldn’t even speak. He just looked at the starmap and the positions of the forces. On one side, on the Carduchian border was the rearguard of the Terran fleet, right where they were now. Ariaeus and his ships were right beside them, along with the horde of local warships and mercenaries. It was a thuggish band of warriors, yet their numbers were substantial. Across the border sat Tirbazus and his entire Royal fleet, with a smattering of mercenaries mixed in with them. He turned his eyes back to the border area, a no-man’s land between two Satrapies with a mutual hatred of each other.

  “Wait, you’re sending us on a skipping route, three small jumps so that we arrive right next to Tirbazus?”

  Xenophon nodded.

  “Yes. We will arrive with a single Titan and a handful of ships directly in front of the entire Hayastani navy. Once inside the Sea of Fire, our communications, scanners, and shields will be gone. Ariaeus will either have to give up the chase or follow us closely to avoid being destroyed in the storms.”

  Glaucon shook his head.

  “He will have guides. He could just as easily find another route on his own.”

  Xenophon nodded in agreement.

  “Exactly. But will he risk losing us? He will be unable to contact Tirbazus or even his forces in Carduchia. So he will have to make a decision. Pursue or abandon.”