Black Legion: 04 - Last Stand

by Michael G. Thomas

  Artemas and Tamara moved around him, both with the firearms at the ready. Artemas went to look around the corner, but Glaucon dragged her back.

  “No, they have a combat drone out there. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

  A flash of blue burned a hole the size of a man’s head in the bulkhead nearby, forcing them to relocate back down the curved ramp. It was followed by the heavy thump of footsteps.

  “It’s coming after us,” Tamara said from a hidden position behind a shattered statue. She leapt down to join them just as another blast of heavy gunfire smashed her previous position. Tamara hit the ground, rolled over, and then landed clumsily on her feet.

  “It’s big!” she said in a high-pitched voice.

  Glaucon laughed.

  “Really?”

  Xenophon checked his weapons; the others did the same. All were equipped with various pulse weapons, but none carried anything heavier than Glaucon’s pulse cannon.

  “What’s the plan?” he asked.

  Xenophon tilted his head and indicated back along the route they had entered from.

  “The junction, one floor down. Remember the small rooms on each side?”

  Glaucon nodded, even as the sounds of the footsteps increased. Xenophon raced off, and the others chased him.

  “We lead it there and trap it!”

  They increased their pace and crashed headlong into a new unit of spatharii that were working their way around. The leader pushed pass, heading in the direction Xenophon had just left.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he said firmly.

  The man must have recognised Xenophon because he actually stopped and considered what to do. This was unusual for the spatharii; as they were loathe to following the orders or even suggestions of officers from other units.

  “Why not?”

  A groaning roar from the machine answered his question. The metal beast moved into view just as the entire group of Terrans fell back. Only Glaucon remained for the briefest of moments as he fired a short burst from the pulse cannon that served only to annoy it further.

  “All units, move in on the command deck, now!” said Xenophon over his communication node.

  They moved at a running pace, finally reaching the hexagonal junction with the ramps at each end and small rooms positioned around it.

  “This place?” asked Tamara.

  Her tone wasn’t particularly confident, but Xenophon had no other immediate ideas.

  “Yes, we need to get it to move into that room.”

  Glaucon booted the door open and looked inside. It was a barrack room of sorts, with bunks for fifty or more automatons. It was unlit and only three metres in height form floor to ceiling.

  “We need bait,” he said.

  Artemas stepped inside with Roxana.

  “We can draw it in. What’s the plan after that?”

  Xenophon smiled as confidently as he could and lifted the old weapon of Clearchus up to show her.

  “When it gets inside the doorway, we’ll hit it from the rear. Close combat weapons, grenades, and plasma charges should do the trick.”

  Tamara looked at the frame and then to Xenophon.

  “It will barely fit. What if you’re too late? We’ll be stuck inside with nothing that can hurt it.”

  Xenophon pulled out a charge from his thigh pack and activated a thermal charge. Glaucon did the same.

  “Trust me,” said Xenophon.

  The leader of the other Terrans checked their weapons and indicated for his unit to spread out.

  “What about us?”

  Xenophon looked back at the ramp that led to another floor beneath them. The machine would be coming from the opposite direction, and the sound had already returned.

  “Take your brothers to the next level and wait for the first explosion. Then get here fast. Understood?”

  The Terran nodded and called out to his comrades. Xenophon opened his mouth to speak, but then spotted the foot of the machine. He jumped back and entered the room directly opposite to where Artemas and Roxana were positioned. Glaucon didn’t even see him move, and Tamara had to jump out and yank his arm to pull him away. It was a close run thing, but by the time the machine emerged from the ramp and onto the junction, there were only two visible to its sensors.

  “Kill it!” screamed Artemas.

  Both women opened fired and struck the machine with a hundred pulse rounds. Small holes and dents appeared all over its dull torso, but nothing major was damaged. They could now see the thing was twice the mass of a man and equipped with plated shield sections on its limbs and chest to guard against gunfire. Its arms stopped at the elbows. It carried large cannons in their place.

  “Run!” cried out Roxana.

  Xenophon watched from the other side as Artemas and Roxana hurled them themselves into the room. A double blast of blue energy crashed about them. One shot entered the room, the other ripping open the wall near the doorway and greatly increasing the size of the hole.

  “Dekarchos Xenophon, we are on the command deck,” said one of the many junior officers that had led small groups through the ship.

  “Take her!” was all he had time for before hurling himself out from his hiding place.

  Tamara was faster though and leapt at the back of the machine, her pistol firing and stiletto thin knife stabbing at the weakly armoured rear of the combat drone. Xenophon and Glaucon arrived simultaneously, but it was already turning around. They both opened fire and managed to disable the left arm as it spun about.

  “The charge!” said Glaucon.

  Xenophon looked to his hand to find it had vanished. The machine was now presenting its flank to them and moving its other functioning arm to fire its devastating weapon.

  What have I done?

  The charge was the only realistic way the Terrans had determined to take on and destroy their armoured foes, following detailed debriefings immediately after Cunaxa. He almost broke down in disappointment when he spotted Tamara duck under the machines neck and slam a small device to its torso.

  “Go, go, go!” she screamed.

  Xenophon had no idea what she’d done but didn’t wait to find out. He hurled himself to the left, and the other two moved in the opposite direction. The blast was short and dull but still shook the flooring around them. By the time they were back on their feet, the other Terrans had arrived and poked at the fallen machine with their pulse rifles.

  “Good work, Dekarchos,” said the temporary leader.

  Xenophon shook his head.

  “No, it was her.”

  He pointed to Tamara. She gave an exaggerated bow in front of them.

  “Good work, little lady.”

  That instantly wiped the smile from her face. She moved closer to the man and brought the blade up in front of his face. He looked a little confused but said no more, instead waited as she slid it back into its sheath. Glaucon stepped next to her, turning his head towards Xenophon.

  “What now?”

  His friend was already at the shattered doorway and climbing past the wreckage of the machine. Roxana lifted herself up from one of the myriad of beds, but there was no sign of Artemas. His heart rate quickened, and he began to panic. His eyes scanned the ground, but it was the almost indistinguishable sound from his side that caught his attention. She was on him before he could turn, and he found himself losing his balance. He stumbled, and then Artemas appeared in front of him with her arms out and holding him up. She leaned in and kissed him on the lips in front of the entire group of Terrans, and then leaned back to look at him.

  “Thank you, your timing was almost perfect.”

  Tamara laughed at her insult, but Xenophon found he could barely speak. The adrenalin pounded through his body like an illegal drug, and no words came out.

  “Speechless, huh?” muttered Glaucon.

  He stepped to the doorway and looked in at his friend.

  “It’s about time somebody learnt how to keep him quiet.”

 
; Xenophon looked into the tight fitting helm that Artemas wore. Like the equipment used by the Terrans, it protected the top of the head, eyes, nose, and cheeks but left the mouth exposed. Many had pushed for changes in the past but had reached no further than the sealed envirosuits that could be worn underneath. The Terrans were very proud of their military heritage and designs, such as the classic Corinthian helm that were a mark of distinction and prowess in the Legion.

  This isn’t over, not by a long shot.

  He tore his eyes from her, much that he didn’t want to, and also partially because of the Terrans waiting patiently for him. He even forgot for a moment that he was deep inside the flagship of the Medes fleet. Xenophon had spent so much time on foreign vessels now that he was finding it normal to be on ships he barely recognised. The sound of gunfire still echoed through the innards of the massive vessel, and he knew he needed to finish what he had started.

  But I need information first.

  “This is Xenophon. What is the status of the fight?” he asked over the wide band communications channel. The voice of Dukas Xenias returned in seconds.

  “Xenophon, good to hear you. There were rumours you’d met your end at the hands of a machine.”

  “Almost. We have warriors throughout the ship.”

  “Good work. The fighting is getting more and more confused. Every one of our ships is engaged in boarding actions on the Leleges ships. The Medes are sending in their reserve to help their comrades, but Ariaeus has pulled back his ships and is only fighting if we get too close. This is turning into a land battle in space.”

  Xenophon smiled at the news. There was no love between Ariaeus and Tissaphernes; that much was clear to them all. It also created the spark for several new plans, depending on their circumstances.

  “That is good news, Dukas. I recommend you continue pressure on the Leleges. Will we beat them?”

  This time there was a much longer pause.

  “Xenophon, unless Ariaeus offers them meaningful assistance, we will definitely beat them, and within the next two hours. What’s his plan?”

  Xenophon shrugged.

  “I suspect he had plans just as complex as those of Tissaphernes. Keep them apart, and we have a chance.”

  “Understood. There’s something else though. We’ve taken prisoners on the other ships. Tissaphernes isn’t here. The fleet is commanded by his nephew, a warrior called Darbabad Qahreman, and he is on your damned ship. I don’t like it. Where the hell is he?”

  “Tissaphernes’ nephew commands?”

  Artemas heard Xenophon say the last words and it piqued her interest. She stepped closer to him and whispered.

  “Which one?”

  Xenophon looked to her and spoke quietly without really knowing why.

  “Darbabad Qahreman.”

  Artemas shrugged at this news.

  “I’ve never met him. The name means Admiral in your language though. He may not be Tissaphernes, but he will be an experienced commander, and if the Satrap is not here, he will be more willing to exercise his command.”

  Xenophon relayed the information to Xenias while the others checked their gear, and Tamara examined the fallen machine. Even as he spoke, Xenophon could see the young woman trying to prise the undamaged weapon from the drone’s body. He shook his head in a mixture of annoyance and amusement.

  “Xenophon. Take that ship and help me finish this fight,” were the Dukas’ final words.

  “We will do our best, Dukas.”

  Glaucon rubbed his chin and then looked to Xenophon as if an idea had only just occurred to him. The look on his friend’s face was one he’d seen a hundred times before, often just before that had a major argument or fight of some kind. He tensed waiting for whatever was to come.

  “Wait a minute. We boarded this ship to eliminate Tissaphernes, the bastard that turned on us and killed our commanders. If he isn’t here, then what the hell are we doing?”

  Xenophon looked further into the ship before answering in a soft tone.

  “Look, I thought this was his ship, and it is still the fleet’s flagship. The plan remains the same. We take this ship and use it against them.”

  He spotted shadows ahead and lifted his weapon, but the crests were Terran. His pulse slowed almost immediately. He looked to his friends.

  “We need to get back to the command deck and fast. Ariaeus is holding back and has given us a window, either deliberately or by accident. Either way we have to act.”

  “Okay, let’s do this then,” said Roxana.

  Xenophon looked to the others, especially Artemas.

  “Are you ready?”

  She nodded quickly.

  “Let’s not spend a minute longer here than we have to.”

  Their small group returned to the winding ramp that they had recently retreated down. To their surprise, they came across the bodies of three Terrans that must have found another way in. All had been cut down by the brutal power of the machine. Tamara bent down, checking them as they passed by.

  “What if they have more?”

  Xenophon said nothing at first but had been thinking exactly the same thing. He only hoped the commander of the ship kept one of those machines as something like an insurance policy. If there were more of them, then the battle for the command deck would end up as something very different. They finally reached the top of the ramp and the scene of the bloody gunfire that had stopped them, the last time. Unlike the previous attempt, all stopped and waited at the top.

  “Right, when we get through the arch, we will be inside the command deck. Remember the Elamites. There will be lots of open space, computer systems, and large numbers of automatons.”

  “Guards?” asked one of the spatharii that stayed with them.

  “No idea.”

  Xenophon connected to the other combat units on the ship and was disappointed to see only two others had made it this far. He gave them a countdown and then looked to his own group.

  “Only two units have made it up here. That’s less than thirty in total.”

  He sounded weary, perhaps worried at this news.

  “Thirty, to take the entire deck?” asked Artemas with wide eyes.

  Xenophon considered it for a moment. He remembered the last time they’d boarded a ship of anything like this size. Back then they were with a much larger group of Terrans, and it had proven a tough fight. Thirty warriors spread out over an area of almost a hectare. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but they had little choice.

  “Yes, but we don’t have to take the lot. We need to cut off the head on this ship. The automatons will only fight for as long as they fear their commander.”

  Tamara nodded excitedly at that.

  “Yeah, we can do that.”

  Xenophon checked over his team while counting down in his head. Timing would be critical, just as it had been on the lower deck. They were all well armed and armoured, and two of the additional spatharii carried looted pulse cannons from fallen Median soldiers.

  “How is the shield unit?”

  Glaucon nodded to the short but stout looking Arcadian. The Terran carried the heavy unit on his back and the control unit on his left arm. He held nothing more than a pulse pistol in his right.

  “Well?” repeated Xenophon.

  The man tapped a button, and the flicker of the shield sent a crisp ionised crackling through the open space before settling down. It was one of the larger units taken from a fallen breaching squad and created an angled field of three metres in both height and width.

  “We get through the archway and then move like an armoured train.”

  He pointed to the man with the generator unit.

  “You will stay at the front with the shield. Understood?”

  They all acknowledged his plan. There was now nothing to do but wait another twenty seconds for the other units to move into position. It felt a great deal longer but finally he reached the agreed time. Glaucon and Artemas watched him carefully, both with weapons ready.


  “Now!”

  The man with the shield moved out first and covered ten metres before the others caught up with him. His strong legs pushed him on even when the first volleys of gunfire smashed into the shield. The rest of the unit chased behind, all of them making sure they stayed well inside the protective arc of the shield unit. Xenophon could see the groups of automatons formed up in a double line ahead of them. Their guns were aimed at them. The gunfire was incredible, the shield humming and vibrating with each blast. He was right behind the generator backpack, and the heat increased with every shot.

  “Spread out!” said Xenophon.

  As they had drilled so many times in the past, they split up; with two groups moving left and right into the cover offered by the columns, pillars, computers, and statues on each side of the ship. The third group, including Xenophon and Artemas, remained in the middle with the shield. Glaucon took the left team and brought the two Terrans with similar weapons with him. They returned fire and in seconds, the open deck was filled with bolts of energy as both sides blasted away. It was the clattering of the pulse cannons that made the greatest noise. Between them, they felled seven of the automatons before they broke and ran for cover.

  “It’s clear!” he called to Xenophon.

  “Push on!” he replied.

  Both flanks moved on, and Xenophon helped the Terran with the shield as they moved further onto the command deck. As they cleared the ramp and arched entrance, the deck widened until it was almost fifteen metres in width. His first impression was it looked like the top deck of an ancient trireme of the kind that ploughed the oceans of the past, flat topped, and crewed by hundreds. There were additional platforms and balconies up to fifty metres up in every direction, with barrier-less gantries joining them together. A shot glanced down and over the shield to strike his chest. Luckily, the angle worked against the attack, and the pulse round bounced and hit the ground.

  “Close!” Artemas said grimly.

  He looked back at her and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

  “Where is the commander? This nephew of Tissaphernes.”

  Artemas shrugged, and for a moment, Xenophon felt a sense of numbness in his body. More Terrans had now broken through, but it was nothing like the overwhelming assault on the lower decks that had proven such a successful diversion. They had some degree of surprise, but it wouldn’t last. His friends were now spread out as they spurred on the other Terrans in a wild gunfight against ten times as many automatons.