The light cruiser shook when hit by a sustained volley of plasma charges. If the opponent had been something more substantial, like the Median ships of the line known as Elamite Battleships, then it would have already been over. Luckily, the Khanda class light cruiser was a scout class vessel, and lacked the heavy firepower to end the engagement quickly. Even so, the red alert and warning sounds running through the deck served as a reminder that without shields, the ship would take damage with each and every shot fired. Even the first volley was able to cause death and mutilation to anybody in the damaged sections. The Kybernetes pointed at the vessel and roared.
“Return fire, now!”
The laser blasts from Drakonis raked the Khanda, and its shield flickered in a bright display of different colours. There were only two cutters fitted to the ship, but as they ran along the length of the ship, it cut down three banks of shields. Several small explosions marked where the beam struck as the shields struggled to manage the strikes.
“Kentarchos, their shields are down to twenty-three percent,” said the tactical officer.
“Good, keep up the fire.”
More gunfire slammed into Drakonis, but it was too little to stop her from knocking down the shields of the Median cruiser. In a matter of seconds, the two ships found themselves in a similar position, with their shields down and their jump-engines offline. As soon as the shields dropped, the following laser blasts cut right through the outer hull plating and deep inside her structure. Six plasma bolts hammered the dorsal gun platforms of Drakonis, and a large part of the topside tore off and drifted into space, carrying a dozen crew and all the fixed weapon units.
“Structural damage to her command centre and engine room.”
Kentarchos Ezekiel Manus started to congratulate him when the threat indicator flickered red. He looked closely at the screen showing the area of space around his ship as well as the enemy cruiser sitting in front of his own vessel. The outline of the cruiser had been joined by another similar warship.
No, Gods no!
“Another Khanda class light cruiser, Kentarchos. They are demanding our surrender.”
The Kybernetes looked to his Kentarchos, the bitter disappointment clear on his face.
“Your orders, Kentarchos?”
He looked to his officers, but his facial expression had changed in the last minute. It had moved from desperation and worry to one of grim determination. His eyes tightened down a fraction before he spoke.
“We fight, and we don’t stop fighting until none of us remains.”
The Kybernetes looked to the other officers and pointed to the enemy warships.
“I want every ounce of power put to our weapons. We don’t stop while one of us is breathing!”
* * *
Medes’ Battleship ‘Sraosha’, Larissa System, Core Worlds
The light was much brighter than expected inside the cavernous interior of the Median battleship. Strip lights were embedded in the floor, ceiling, and walls so that most shadows were blotted out by even more light. The glyphs and marks on the walls were like nothing seen inside a Terran ship, yet the walkways felt familiar to most of them. Loudspeakers hidden inside the structure echoed with the shouting of Median voices, as the commanders shouted orders to the myriad of automatons that must have filled it. Xenophon pulled a set of thick cabling out of the way and moved ahead. Out in the distance he could see another group of Terrans pushing ahead.
“Keep moving!” he said encouragingly, not that any of them needed it.
As before, they were all armed and equipped as conventional spatharii, the heavy infantry of the Terrans. Each wore a full set of tactical armour that protected them via multiple sections of layered armour. They wore traditional helms, and in their hands they carried the infamous Doru Mk II high-velocity pulse rifle.
Every one of them was well equipped for long-range firepower, but Xenophon still wore the Asgeirr-Carbine on his right hand. It combined a short-ranged pulse carbine with the deadly razor sharp blade. Two of the warriors with them carried mobile shield generators that weighed half as much again as a man. Though cumbersome, they could prove critical in a fight.
“It’s clear!” called out one of the warriors from further inside the ship.
The group of thirty spatharii passed through the passageway and towards the rear gunnery decks. As they made quick progress, Xenophon checked in with the dozens of other dekarchos who were now inside and leading small groups of warriors to different parts of the vessel. He had no idea how the rest of the battle was going. His only interest at that moment was the success or failure of their boarding action.
“How are we doing?” asked Roxana, without taking an eye off the shadows ahead of them.
“Reports so far show the place is pretty quiet. One unit ran right into a repair crew; the rest are moving fast. We will have the stern overrun in minutes.”
Roxana didn’t seem to like that. She stopped and pulled Xenophon to one side. Even as she spoke, she maintained a careful watch down the passageway, ever wary of the signs of the enemy.
“I don’t like this, Xenophon, not one bit. Artemas is holding back, don’t you think? Shouldn’t there be warriors on a ship like this?”
A scream from further inside answered her question.
“Automatons!” shouted a Terran.
Xenophon looked at her, but it was the grinning Glaucon that spoke first.
“Answer your question?”
Two spatharii at the head of the group took a volley of pulse rounds that quickly killed them, sending the rest diving for cover. The body armour of the Terrans was impressive, but there was little it could do against such overwhelming close ranged firepower. The rear of the gunnery deck was a double-width passageway with grab rails on both sides and an open plan room to the right, leading to the gun units. The rear of these guns was the size of a dromon and the power capacitors half the size again. Thick cabling as wide as a man’s head ran up to the ceiling and floors, vanishing into the bowels of the ship.
They’ve automated the guns on this thing.
Xenophon tried to speak, but his communication node suddenly filled with the shout of dozens of officers as groups of the Medes foot soldiers appeared.
They left these decks purposefully clear. Is this standard practice, or did they pull back when they spotted our dromons coming this way?
He turned to Artemas, but she was already firing with her Doru pulse rifle. He couldn’t see exactly whom she was firing at, but the return shots came perilously close to her athletic figure. As she ran out of ammunition, she dropped the magazine and slipped in another without moving the gun itself. The movement was fluid and silent; instantly taking him back to their first meeting, where he recalled the beating he’d taken.
Could she have known about it?
He’d known her for some time now, and there were few he would trust more than the Medes woman. Even so, a lingering doubt shook him at the thought they might have been betrayed at such a vulnerable time. As she reloaded, she spotted him looking.
“The gunnery deck is a short distance ahead. We have to keep moving or they will trap us here.”
Xenophon shook his head.
“No, we need to be faster. Is the command centre the same on this ship?”
Artemas shook her head.
“I’ve never been near the command part of the ship.”
Three projectiles crashed nearby, and all of them ducked for cover. Xenophon was the first to get back to his feet.
“Do you know where on the ship we need to go?”
Artemas smiled at this question.
“These command ships have a single open deck near the upper side. Most of the crew are based there. I think the commander of the ship operates from there as well.”
Xenophon and Glaucon looked at each other.
“So whoever controls the deck, controls the ship,” said Glaucon.
“Indeed,” replied Xenophon.
He had no doubt she wa
s right and for now concentrated on what he could affect instead. His training and combat experience kicked in, and he quickly appraised the situation.
“Shields to the front!” he growled.
The two men manhandled the generators to the front of the unit while the remainder returned fire in a massed exchange with the automatons. Though just a hundred metres apart, the combined firepower was deadly. Another spatharii was struck, but this time his armour deflected the shot and sent it crashing to the wall. With a gentle flicker, a faded pink colour shape appeared in front of the two men. Pulse rounds slammed into the units and bounced off to strike the walls instead.
“Good, now push!”
Rather than fight, the two men moved the generators, the other spatharii following right behind. It was slow work and took a full two minutes to move the entire length but finally they made it, and the Terran warriors were able to cut down the guards from the safety of their shielded position.
“What now then, the command deck?” asked Glaucon.
A dozen of the spatharii looked back at Xenophon and shouted out at what they had discovered so far. At the same time, reports came back in from the other units inside the ship. Most had broken through the outer defences and were moving in on the vital sections at the rear. Xenophon lifted himself up tall and pointed to the ceiling.
“The command deck. We will take this fight to their commanders!”
“Yes!” answered one of them men excitedly.
Xenophon looked to Artemas.
“I need the widest route to the deck. We need numbers there and fast.”
Artemas considered his words but only for a moment.
“There are dozens of levels, but the main passageways all run front to back. We can take multiple routes to the top deck and then rush the length of the ship.”
Tamara jumped up at a hatch and it swung open. A ladder slid down and stopped just centimetres from the ground.
“Like this?”
Artemas smiled at her.
“Yes, there will be access ladders on every floor in case the lifts and transport platforms are damaged. Either we take those or the ramps to the next level.”
Tamara climbed up and vanished above them. Several gunshots rang out, and Xenophon felt his pulse quicken as a body tumbled down from the hatch. The face of the young woman appeared upside down and looked at them with a wide grin.
“There’s a circular room up here with ramps on both sides.”
“Excellent,” answered Artemas, “That means we’re right next to the aft access bay. We can take the ramps up from there.”
“Do it,” said Xenophon and then moved to the ladder.
Five more armed automatons appeared from a dozen metres ahead, but when they spotted the large group of heavily armed Terrans, they quickly turned tail and ran. A few of the Terrans shot at them but none were hurt.
“Let them run,” Glaucon muttered, “They will spread fear deep inside her. It will make our job easier.”
* * *
Tissaphernes watched the ships from inside the dark interior of his secluded section of the command deck. The raised screens hid him from view, yet he could still make out the shapes of the crew all around him. He watched his fleet as it continued on its faster-than-light journey to meet with the rest of the ships he had assembled to execute the coup de grâce on the Terrans. It was a small fleet, no more than twenty ships though; a dozen of those were Elamite battleships, the feared heavy warship of the Empire and more than enough to conduct the final attack on the fleet.
And how is my little battle proceeding?
With nothing more than a movement of his eye, the imagery shifted and showed the latest reports coming in from his commanders at Larissa. He looked at the shapes of the Terran Titans and almost giggled at what he could see. The Terran ships had been caught while they plundered the planet, just as he had predicted.
He recalled the argument that had taken place before the Emperor himself as he, Ariaeus, and Phalinus had debated the merits of their different strategies. Phalinus didn’t seem to care what the plan was, providing he was paid while Ariaeus thought it best to provide food and supplies to the Terrans to get them to leave.
Tissaphernes had a different idea altogether, however. He had great plans and to do so he would need resources and support from the Emperor. This victory could guarantee him a free hand to smash the remaining Ionian Territories and finally do what no Medes had ever done before, to wipe out the Terrans once and for all.
So, pulling away the garrison did the trick.
The three Titans were separated, and he could see the Terran ships had been swamped by the greater number of his own ships. The smaller fleet of Phalinus had lost a few ships and was giving ground, but even they were dragging the entire thing out.
This is a wondrous work of art.
The images of the fighting ships reminded him of the enjoyment he experienced when watching the caged animals fighting in the pits back on his own worlds. The uncertainty and the savagery fed something inside him, something raw and animalistic. It made him want to rush directly into the battle, yet he knew more than most that you never showed your hand to the Terrans. He could be patient.
When they have just a few ships remaining, I will jump in to finish them.
He looked back at the battle and noticed the number of smaller Terran ships moving in around the larger battleships. The only fear he’d had about the operation was that the Terrans would unite and form up to present a devastating wall of fire, as they had done on multiple occasions at Cunaxa. Now they were spread out and weak. It was the perfect ending for them.
When it is all over, I will commission a painting of this exact moment; the one where I will be personally responsible for the annihilation of three more Titans and ten thousand savages!
“My Lord,” said the Darbabad.
Tissaphernes deactivated his viewing unit and waited as it lowered to reveal the nervous face of his Admiral. It was only then that he realised the ship had stopped moving.
“Yes?”
“We have reached the assembly point, My Lord.”
“And?”
The automaton swallowed quickly before speaking.
“Our scouts caught a scout cruiser attempting to leave the system. We suspect it is the same ship that fought its way from our fleet six hours ago. I have despatched additional ships to destroy them, and they have been jammed continually since being identified.”
Tissaphernes didn’t move, to all intents and purposes he might have been a golden statue sitting silently at the heart of the great battleship. Only when he lifted his hand to wipe his lip was it clear he was even alive.
“What was this Terran ship doing? Do they know how many ships we have in reserve?”
“I...uh, we suspect it was a scout watching the rear of the Black Legion.”
A scout? They must have failed in their mission. If the Terrans knew we were coming, why were they not ready?
A glimmer of doubt slipped into his mind, and he began to imagine the disasters that he knew of when his people fought the Terrans. The days of delay while fighting the Laconians at the Hot Gates, just so the Terrans could mobilize their ground and space forces for the final battle. Even their trick at Plataea, in pretending they were giving up the field of battle. The more he gave consideration to the scout, he realised he wanted to know more.
“The fleet is engaged and my reserve is ready?”
The Darbabad nodded quickly.
“Yes, My Lord.”
The Darbabad bent down and tapped a panel on the ground. It flicked three colours, and then a slightly distorted image of the battle at Larissa appeared. It wasn’t a video feed but rather a stylised representation of the battle, with colour blocks representing the divisions of the ships from the three factions.
“As arranged, the primary fleet of Phalinus is heavily engaged with the Laconian division. Your diversionary forces from Leleges, under the command of Darbabad Qahreman, have e
nveloped their remaining forces and are now heavily engaged also.”
Tissaphernes was happy to hear this. Darbabad Qahreman was one of his more experienced commanders and hailed from one of the ruling families in the Caira Satrapy. Technically, he was his nephew, although the marriage had fallen apart and severed the ties to his own noble house years earlier. He had chosen him to lead this part of the battle, due to his experience of leading the troublesome Leleges. The Leleges region was one of the ancient territories managed by his Satrapy of Caira. Though his two regions covered a substantial amount of space between the rest of the Empire and the Terran worlds, he still managed many different civilisations. The Leleges were conquered long ago, but their worlds were a rich source of slaves for his war machine, and its factories churned out cheap cruisers for the fleet. They were no match for professional soldiers and their ships some of the worst in the Empire, yet they served a purpose.
“Good.”
He looked at the list to the left of the battle display of his reserve fleet waiting with him in deep space. Unlike the vessels engaged, these were all Lydian ships, each commanded by Median nobility that were completely loyal to him. Their ships were the most expensive and lavish in his fleet.
“Who is winning?”
The Darbabad wiped his brow, nervous at giving the wrong analysis to his master.
“My Lord, the Terrans have suffered only a few losses so far. They have moved their ships close to the Lelegian forces, and it has reduced their weapons effectiveness. They are unable to engage them easily without risking harm to their own ships.”
Tissaphernes bit his lip as he considered his situation.
They should be breaking already, what’s going wrong?
“This is taking too long. I want the Terrans destroyed once and for all. Is every ship fighting?”
The Darbabad bowed his head for what felt like the hundredth time.
“The Terran jammers have denied us direct contact with Darbabad Qahreman, but we are still receiving regular updates from Phalinus.”
“Pah!” muttered Tissaphernes, “Let me guess, they are under pressure and urgently need help?”
Black Legion: 04 - Last Stand Page 12
