“My name is Xenophon, friend and ally of Clearchus. I fought alongside him when he died, and he charged me with the job of protecting the Legion,” he shouted as loudly as he could.
“Xenophon?” called out a man, “You fought on the mountains at Cilicia?”
“Yes,” answered Glaucon, “and he was at the side of Clearchus when our generals were betrayed.”
The excitement in the hangar bay was beginning to change, but there were still some that had no interest in becoming one of Xenophon’s personal soldiers.
“I promise you, if we take this ship it will be yours. You may choose your own officers and even a Komes for this new army.”
The word army raised the eyebrow of Roxana who was still too busy watching for signs of hostility in the crowd. A thousand men was hardly an army, but the words seem to resonate amongst them. Perhaps it was the cramped conditions, but the mood altered in seconds from one of a defeated, miserable, and angry rabble to one of Terran, lusty for loot and vengeance.
“To the ships, we will claim this warship in your name!”
Apart from a few stragglers, the horde of wild and excited warriors surged towards the lines of waiting dromons. The ubiquitous transports of the Terrans waited patiently, and their pilots and gunners watched in surprise as scores of warriors piled inside, stowing their gear ready for the fight. Archrivals sat alongside each other, all their previous disagreement forgotten with for now, until the end of the battle.
“Your people are incredible,” said Lady Artemas.
Tamara and Glaucon moved to their flanks, their body language now softening as the possibility of violence had vanished. Xenophon spotted one craft to the left that had just four warriors inside and made for it.
“Hey, what about us?” asked Roxana.
“Xenophon checked the straps of his helmet as he moved.
“I need all of you with me. This isn’t going to be easy, and these spatharii are not keen to work together. They are rash and dangerous.”
“Really?” asked Glaucon.
The look on his face suggested sarcasm, but Xenophon chose to ignore it and moved to the ramp. Tamara was already inside, her long, bright hair drawing the attention of the men inside.
“Hey, little girl, want to come and sit with me?” asked the first, a leering look on his face.
She walked up to him and slammed her knee into the man’s face before sitting down. The middle-aged warrior leaned forward, blood pouring from his broken nose.
“You little...!”
He cut short when the larger form of Glaucon entered and sat next to the young woman. Although Glaucon wore similar armour to them, he also carried the pulse cannon he’d collected some time ago. He was bigger and more heavily built than Xenophon, and his expression suggested they should let it lie. Roxana and Artemas moved in next and slid down next to the others who now decided to stay silent. More warriors ran inside carrying a mixture of equipment before Xenophon hit the seal button. The hatches closed up, and he dropped into his seat and activated the straps and clamping units.
“You all ready?”
All but Artemas nodded in agreement.
“What’s wrong?”
Artemas shook her head in irritation.
“Why are we here? We can’t do any more good commanding this fight without getting involved in the middle of it.”
Glaucon lowered his head a little and indicated towards the scores of other warriors in the craft before speaking in a low, hushed voice.
“These are not schoolboys, Lady Artemas.”
The Lady part sounded strained, but she said nothing.
“Xenophon has no command, but he is the only person in the Legion with the wit to get us out of here safely. His family used to trade a great deal with your people. He’s probably the most knowledgeable of this region.”
His face then softened.
“Apart from you of course, but you are...”
“A female?”
Glaucon looked almost hurt at the suggestion.
“What has that got to do with anything?” said Roxana.
Glaucon lifted his hands up defensively.
“Hey, where is all of this coming from? No, all I am saying is that you are of Medes stock, and you will never be completely trusted.”
“Even after all I have done for your people?”
Glaucon nodded.
“Of course. You’ve seen how well we trust each other, why would it be any different for the people we actually have a united cause against.”
Tamara watched the other warriors climbing aboard the other dromons. She had spotted a single group of Arcadians who refused to board one of them. One was shouting, and a blow was struck before they were finally left alone. She looked back at her comrades. Glaucon placed a hand on her arm.
“I know. This Legion isn’t as strong as you would think. Look at them all. They fight for no honourable reason, and only loot can make them do anything other than their basest desires. If we want to stay alive, we need leadership.”
Tamara looked to Xenophon. He was busy examining the schematic of the vast enemy warship. The shape was shown on the primary screen in the crew area, along with overlays from their previous actions aboard Elamites.
“And for leadership we need something to unite them together.”
Artemas instantly grasped what he was saying. She leaned in to his face and breathed gently in his left ear. It sent a shiver down his body.
“This is to create a powerbase for him, why? To command the Legion?”
Glaucon raised his eyebrows as though he wasn’t sure, and then spotted Xenophon tapping the communication node that had now interfaced directly to his helmet system.
“This is acting Komes Xenophon of Attica.”
Glaucon was very surprised to hear his friend self-promoting himself and wanted to say something. He even got as far as opening his mouth when Artemas placed a hand on his leg. Again he felt a chill through his body that he found both pleasurable and disconcerting.
She’s not mine. Keep your eyes on the mission, you old fool!
The doors to the hangars were now open, and one by one the dromons powered out of the armoured hull of the Titan. As each craft approached the shields, they flickered off for just long enough to allow each of them to leave. Multiple layers on the shields ensured at least one was active at any one time as they moved into space. Xenophon looked to his friends who were still watching at the massive vessel. Glaucon spotted him and twisted about to speak to him.
“You realise we have no more than a thousand warriors to take that thing? We’ll be lucky if we get a single warrior inside her hull. What about the shielding?”
Artemas pointed at the ship.
“There are entry points at the stern just behind the secondary gundecks. It is a standard design for heavy battleships. Move there, and you’ll get inside and avoid their main defences. The shields are of use only against high impact and energy weapons.”
She then lifted the side of her lip up in a grin.
“Surely you know this, Glaucon?”
He sighed in annoyance.
“Getting through the shielding once we’re there doesn’t concern me. It’s the bit about making it to their ship in one piece that does.”
Xenophon considered what both of them were saying and then looked back at the screen towards the front of the craft. It showed the battle but also the cloud of dromons heading for the enemy ships. More than forty fighters had formed up alongside them, and the Titan itself had now concentrated its firepower on the battleship. Lines of plasma bolts leapt about them as they approached, and he felt a deep-rooted fear that they might not even reach the ship.
She’s right. We need to get there in one piece.
The communications node allowed him to speak directly to the Auletes aboard Poseidon. The response was almost instant, something that surprised even him in the middle of a battle.
“Komes Xenophon,” came back the voice.
Xenophon allowed himself a momentary chuckle at the use of his temporary name. He was far from being a Komes, yet word must have reached the Titan of his self-appointment.
“I need all available fire put on the shields of the Sraosha. Keep the guns off us.”
A hundred shots hammered the dromons, and it was a testament to their construction and light shields that any made it through at all. A single powerful battery unleashed a devastating volley of plasma before cutting out. Shot after shot hammered into hull of Sraosha, and with each impact, a shield flickered and then cut out. Xenophon twisted his neck to see the massed gunports of the Titan bearing down on the enemy flagship.
Yes! That’s more like it.
He looked to the others on the dromon and did his best to encourage them.
“It’s temporary, but the gunfire will keep them busy. If they want to stop the Titan destroying them, they will need to use all their power for the shields, and I mean all their power. That means just the kinetic turrets to deal with, and that should be enough to get us to her hull.”
Glaucon exhaled slowly, hoping against hope that his friend was correct.
“Okay, let’s hope both of you are right.”
Xenophon nodded a thank you and then contacted the commanders of the other dromons as they swarmed in around the ship. While they spoke, Roxana moved back from the small windows to speak with Artemas. The voices faded, and soon all but Xenophon were speechless as they covered the distance between the two massive ships. Fighters moved about like flies, but the big ships were doing the most damage in this battle. The beams of light made it almost impossible to determine exactly what was happening until the dromon banked to avoid pulse cannon fire. The manoeuvre gave them a perfect view of the brightly coloured flagship of the enemy fleet. One of the officers on board the other dromons must have said something to annoy Xenophon because he quickly erupted into an angry outburst over the communication node.
“In less than a minute, we will reach the Sraosha. I want her taken in one piece. Do not destroy her engines, you fools. Kill the crew, command the bridge, and then take the prize!”
Tamara raised one eyebrow at his conversation and looked back to the narrow face of Artemas.
“You said it was a heavy battleship. What else do you know?”
Roxana heard the question and leaned over to watch while Artemas ran a finger down her cheek, considering the question.
“These are standard warships used to command squadrons of Elamites in battles. It is larger and more powerful but not of the same calibre as your Titans. I suspect this one is the command ship for one of Tissaphernes’ admirals.”
It was Xenophon’s turn to look confused, especially at the suggestion it was not the ship he thought it was. He stopped talking to the officers and looked accusingly at Artemas.
“Wait, I thought you said this was Tissaphernes’ ship?”
His expression seemed almost desperate as he asked the question.
“Well, in a certain manner it is his ship. The colours are definitely his, but he would never dare enter battle like this though. I suspect he is in deep-space, waiting for the word to come in and finish the job with his personal squadron of heavy Elamites.”
If Xenophon hadn’t been strapped in, he would have leapt from his seat. Instead, he could do no more than glare at her before saying more.
“You tricked me, why?”
Artemas tried to soften his expression with a gentle smile, but it seemed to infuriate him even more. She sighed before answering him.
“Gods, you Terrans are so tetchy. I was trying to help your cause. This is a flagship, and it has given you and your warriors a common purpose to bring about their destruction. When the battle is over, and if you prevail, you will have the ship and your warriors’ respect.”
“Great,” muttered Roxana, “and if we fail, we will have wasted our efforts on just another command ship.”
They were now just a few seconds from reaching the ship, and the defensive fire had increased exponentially. From the view inside the dromon, they witnessed the destruction of at least three dromons before drifting beneath the warship’s guns and approaching the entry points. On the screen, the coloured shapes of the other dromons showed most had listened to Xenophon and were making for the areas flagged by Artemas.
He trusted her but didn’t for a moment believe the others would feel the same if he told them where the intelligence came from. With a gentle thud, they made contact with the ship and the boarding tube connected to the access points on the vessel.
“Ready?” Xenophon asked.
Without waiting for an order, the airlocks deactivated, and the pressure between the dromon and the battleship quickly normalised. It took only a few seconds and then there was a safe, pressurised entry point to the ship. Xenophon peered through the short tunnel and out past the doorway. He could see the brightly lit interior with pale blue lights casting hard black shadows through the passageway.
“Where does this lead?”
Artemas tapped her tight fitting helmet to check the communication node interface. Her combination of Terran and Medes equipment made her look even more exotic than was normal for her.
“All of the lower entry points lead to the aft evacuation level. It is where the crew head in an emergency. After we make it there, we can spread out through the ship. Apart from the barrack levels in the upper superstructure, the layout is the same as an Elamite...just bigger.”
“What if they try and escape?” asked Tamara.
Roxana looked back over her shoulder and pointed to the display in the crew compartment. The unit showed the position of the other dromons fixed around the ship.
“Our craft are lodge in a dozen places. They can move, but a light speed jump would kill us all.”
Xenophon nodded as he tried to visualise the internal layout of the Elamites. There were long passageways leading front to back on those ships, and based on their recent encounters, the Legion had drawn up basic assault plans depending on which parts of the ship they entered.
“What about the power units, are they separate, like the Elamites?”
Artemas nodded.
“Good.”
Xenophon tapped the communications node to speak with his fellow officers.
“Once you’re clear, use Elamite Plan Beta. The layout is the same. I repeat. Elamite Plan Beta.”
There were six main plans for dealing with a boarding action of an Elamite, and the Beta plan was based upon disabling the offensive capability of a ship first. They would disable the guns before turning on the rest of the crew. Once the guns were out of commission even more troops could be landed, if necessary. He moved to the airlock, but a dozen spatharii had already beaten him to it. One looked back at him.
“Komes, let’s do this.”
He had never seen the man before, but the mixture of terror and excitement on the young man’s face was contagious. Then they rushed off into the interior, and Xenophon followed right behind, and his small entourage were right behind him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Terran Light Cruiser ‘Drakonis’, Core Worlds
Kentarchos Ezekiel Manus could feel the sweat dripping from his face as the engines fluttered one last time. A loud thudding sound followed, and he knew things were about to get much worse than they already were. A screaming sound moved throughout the ship as the tortured hull of the vessel was stretched and pulled in a dozen directions. The hull’s integrity remained solid, however, even after the strains of the forces upon the ship.
Come on, we’re nearly there!
He looked to the timer and counted down. Every second they spent travelling at this speed increased their safety margin, and more important, it would bring them to the armour, shields, and guns of the Black Legion.
Forty seconds, that’s all we need!
“What’s happening?”
The ship’s chief engineer stumbled from one screen to the next, yet his expression remained the same, one of tot
al shock and fear at the information presented to him. The dull red imagery flickered on his face and exaggerated the lines of worry.
“Kentarchos, our engines. They’re gone!”
The tactical officer turned around to face him with an almost identical expression on his face. He shook his head in an angry fashion.
“It is the same with the shields. Everything is offline!”
With one final crashing sound, the lights flashed off, and the forward momentum of the vessel collapsed, dropping them down to their normal sub-light speed. A grinding sound gave the impression the ship was being torn in half, and all of the officers were thrown about. Only three remained on their feet because they’d held on at the very last moment. Those strapped in managed to avoid the cuts and cruises that came from such a violent and abrupt change in heading and velocity.
“Jump drive is off-line. We’re on manoeuvring thrusters only.”
“It’s worse than that,” said Kybernetes Maxentius in a slow but certain tone.
“It usually is,” grumbled the Kentarchos.
The Kybernetes pointed to the bank of video monitors as the tactical officer turned in his chair. Most showed technical data and schematics, but nearly half were bonded together to show the entire fontal arc in front of the light cruiser. Where they had been showing slow moving stars, the imagery had completely changed to the almost black shape they had seen earlier.
“It’s the Khanda cruiser. They tracked us down.”
Kybernetes Maxentius didn’t even have to check his orders before speaking. He tapped his communication node to connect to all the command stations on board the ship. Before he opened his mouth, he could see the alerts coming from the tactical computers. The enemy gun ports were opening, and warnings alerted the officers of a potential attack.
“To your stations. We are under attack!”
Black Legion: 04 - Last Stand Page 11
