Black Legion: 04 - Last Stand

by Michael G. Thomas

  He used his hands to move a targeting grid along the flank of the enemy battleship. Even as he selected area, there were puffs of light as the flank mounted gun batteries continued to pound the Titan. Finally, he found the point he was looking for, the joint between the after section of the ship and the rearmost weapons battery. The mixture of his anger and new orders placated them, for now anyway, but it was also clear to them all that their new commander had plunged the Laconian division of the fleet into a dangerous position. The Zacynthian ships had now spread out, and although there was little chance of them claiming any degree of victory, they still had a very good chance of causing significant damage to the Titan and its escorts.

  “Send the order to all Laconian ships to select this point as the primary target. They will fire heavy cutters on my command.”

  Jeane Coxand nodded sharply and then sat back down at his console.

  “Yes, Strategos.”

  The Laconian wing was modest in size, but with the Titan leading the charge there was little the pitiful section of Zacynthian cruisers could do to stop them. Those that were able had already tried to reach the nav beacon and then jump out, but most were too heavily damaged to escape, and Chirisophus’ bloodlust was up. One cruiser had even tried to jump in the middle of the fight. As its engines powered up, their shields had dropped and a single volley cut through the armour, detonating the engines. The destruction of that ship had discouraged any others to join them.

  Jeane Coxand sent the signal to the rest of the Laconian ships. In less than three minutes, they arrayed themselves ready for Chirisophus’ final manoeuvre. One by one the ships locked onto the battleship and powered up their weapons. Return fire struck the Laconians but caused only minor damage.

  “They think they still have a chance,” he muttered quietly to himself.

  The Laconian ships were now completely surrounded, yet every single one of them had their primary weapons trained onto just one of the Zacynthian ships. As the lights flashed green to indicate a target lock, Chirisophus lifted his hands up high in a dramatic gesture.

  “These Zacynthians will pay for their betrayal!”

  There was no response from the crew though, and that annoyed him far more than he would have expected. The Laconians were warriors, every one of them, and none would balk at death on the battlefield, but the cries and excitement coming from their new Strategos was at odds with their ethos. Thessalians or Arcadians might give themselves up to their urges in battle, but not these stoic warriors. Personal pride, ambition, and heroism came second to the military needs of the Legion. Chirisophus knew this, yet he was unable to understand what was happening.

  “Strategos, an urgent message is coming in from Dukas Xenias,” said the auletes.

  The mere thought of the Arcadian Dukas sent a pang of bitterness through his body.

  That old fool. I have a battle, nay, a war to win!

  Unlike Xenias, Strategos Chirisophus had taken his title as a given in the midst of the battle, and expected the rest of the Legion to follow his lead. Instead, only the Laconians had accepted his self-appointed position of Strategos. It was much worse than that though, especially to a Laconian’s ears. Not only had two thirds of the fleet sided with Xenias and his allies, but they had chosen to let an Arcadian Dukas lead, without even granting him the coveted Strategos. It was madness to him, and a decision that could cost many Terran lives.

  It will be that damned Attican.

  The more thought he gave to Xenias, the more he decided it was almost entirely due to the fact that Xenophon had allied himself with the old man. He could think of no other reason why so many of the Legion would choose him over a noble Laconian with a proven track record and the faith of Clearchus. It had to be down to the upstart junior officer that had seen the Strategos die.

  All of this because he was in the right place at the right time.

  He wanted to ignore the man, but the fight couldn’t be won just by his smaller contingent, certainly not before the others took heavy casualties. There was a part of him happy to see his competitor suffer, but that would also mean letting the thousands of other Terrans suffer too. There were small numbers of Laconians in the other units as well as old allies of his countrymen.

  “Put him on the main screen.”

  The face of the Dukas and Komes Sosis appeared right before him. The sight of the two together made him immediately suspicious. He assumed the Komes was now in league with Xenias and his Arcadians. It was a move that surprised him.

  “I see you’ve found a new ship, Xenias. And Komes Sosis, always nice to see you.”

  The mention of the other man’s title dripped with bitterness that only a fool would not hear. Xenias shook his head in irritation at the game. It mattered not a jot to him whether Sosis was a Komes, Dukas, or any other title right now.

  “Chirisophus. This is turning into two separate battles; you of all people should know the dangers of splitting our forces. The Zacynthian ships are a diversion, nothing more. The bulk of their fleet is facing the entire Legion while you pursue one ship.”

  That was a jibe, though Chirisophus couldn’t quite place the reference. He ignored everything Xenias had said after the mention of splitting the fleet.

  What does he mean?

  There was the glorious death at the Hot Gates where the Laconians and their allies, under the command of the Hero-King, Strategos Leonidas, but that was due to betrayal, not because they had split their forces. He thought back to the same period but could think of nothing more than the massive combined battles of Plataea, but even that affair had been down to confusion between the Atticans and the Laconians, and they had still been victorious over the Medes and their Terran mercenaries.

  Ah, so he implies I am creating a problem such as Plataea. The idiot, he needs to learn his history a little better.

  Chirisophus shook his head and then looked genuinely confused.

  “You must be mistaken, Xenias. I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  Xenias hissed in response, but Chirisophus continued to speak, drowning out the Arcadian in a barrage of words.

  “Throughout this skirmish I have shown leadership at a time where we needed it most. Our numbers are finite, and we must fight and die as one. We must strike as a spearhead, directly into the heart of the enemy, quickly, powerfully, and decisively. Just as Clearchus would have done.”

  Xenias lifted his hand to persuade him to stop.

  “No, we do not have time for your ego and Laconian pride. The rest of the Legion has pinned the primary Median fleet. Their Carian warships are heavily engaged and troops are fighting boarding action on more than twenty of them.”

  “So?” he replied.

  Xenias raised an eyebrow at his question.

  “A number of their ships are trying to move to the nav beacons to jump out. I need you to return to the fight and close the trap around them before they can escape. If we are to get home, we will need to demonstrate that any frontal assault on the Legion will result in failure.”

  Chirisophus snorted in derision.

  “If you had come with me, this fight would already be over. You split the fleet, and now you will face the consequences of your actions...Dukas.”

  He looked to his officers on his own deck and considered the request. Kentarchos Broge Monsimm, the Titan’s commander, continued to manage the ship as they ploughed through the thin defensive screen of cruisers and moved in at point-blank range with the battleship. Chirisophus had almost forgotten about the attack he had planned. He looked back at the Dukas and smiled.

  “One moment, Dukas, let me deal with this.”

  He then turned his back on the Dukas, even as he started to speak. It was a great insult to any Terran, but to do it directly in the face of a chosen Dukas was tantamount to a physical attack.

  “All ships, open fire.”

  The order was calm and matter-of-fact, but the response was far from calm. A dozen voices repeated the order down from the
Kybernetes and then to the tactical officer. The junior officers in control of their various batteries and gun stations then moved the orders down to the gunners. The response was devastating, and Chirisophus loved every minute of it.

  Gods show them no mercy.

  The heavy cutters were the most powerful weapons used by the Terrans. Though not immediately as deadly as plasma weapons, they were faster and applied continuous damage against their targets. With there being multiple breaches on the damaged battleship, it was easy for the cutters to work their way into the hull. The guns were already fully charged, and the initial volley struck the designated target like a raging torrent.

  “By the Gods, this is beautiful!” he cried out without thinking.

  The target area was no bigger than the size of a Terran fighter and easy to hit at this range, and with minimal changes in velocity. By the time the second cruiser had fired, the shields had already collapsed in this section. More ships opened fire as the cruisers and escorts used their main guns, and the Titan used its powerful cutters. Unlike the super-hot plasma projectiles from the other guns, the cutters were designed to burn through metal, flesh, and plastic in an instant. The outer plating tore off, and as quickly as the attack had started, the beams punched through and out through the other side of the ship.

  “Beautiful,” said Chirisophus.

  The beams continued to rip the ship apart until finally a series of explosions wracked its flanks. At first it looked like that was as far as the damage would go, but then one final blast vaporised half of the ship. When the blast cleared, there was nothing but three chunks of ship and an entire cloud of debris heading out in all directions.

  “Strategos, sensors detect multiple escape pods launching away from us.”

  Dukas Phalinus, you sly old dog.

  He heard the words, but the implication didn’t get through to him for almost three full seconds. His attention was now firmly on the status of his rival and whether he might at that very moment be escaping from the heart of battle.

  The shields!

  He spun about and looked directly at Kentarchos Broge Monsimm who was effectively acting at his Kybernetes. The man was supposed to be a veteran commander of warships, yet he had allowed them to be positioned in such a way that they could be badly damaged by much weaker ships.

  “All power to forward shields, brace for impact!” he said.

  A dull throbbing sound shook the floor plates as the engines were pushed hard to pour additional energy directly into the shield generators and their capacitor reserves. It was only just in time as the first triple layering of shields was hit. As the debris struck, the thickened layers of shielding emitted a clattering sound like that of heavy rain on a tin roof. Chirisophus could barely contain his laughter, and soon after many of the other crew began to laugh at the sound. Dukas Xenias watched them and shook his head.

  “What is it, Dukas?” asked Chirisophus upon seeing his rival’s face. The Laconian answered while continuing to laugh.

  “It’s an old joke my friend, one that would be wasted on anybody else. We are all quite used to fighting under such bombardment conditions.”

  He looked to his crew, and more laughed, especially enjoying the irritation of Xenias.

  “Terrans are dying while you laugh. We have work to do.”

  Xenias moved away from the screen. A junior officer replaced him.

  “Indeed we do, old friend,” said Chirisophus in a quiet tone.

  The word friend dripped in venom, and not one man or woman on his command deck would think for a moment they were any less than archrivals, perhaps even enemies. He turned from the screen and back to his own predicament. The Laconian ships were now in amongst the surviving Zacynthian ships. He wiped his jaw with his left hand as he watched a group trying to break formation. It was all too little, too late, however.

  “Strategos, there are urgent requests for assistance from the rest of the Legion,” said his auletes.

  Chirisophus turned about and looked back along the command deck. The VOB system gave him a clear view behind his own vessel and back towards the even larger battle that was taking place there. There were scores of Median ships moving about, as Terran ships tried to keep them pinned into position. The battle was more a massive space based melee, with the fights now consisting of just two or three ships at a time. Another volley of shots struck them, and he turned his eyes back to the Zacynthian vessels that had managed to make for a break in their line. It was a small group, but with all their power presumably going to their rear shields and engines were making remarkable progress.

  “Forget Xenias. He can deal with his own problems.”

  Kentarchos Broge Monsimm pulled his head back in surprise.

  “Strategos, what about the rest of the Legion? Our tactical situation is critical. Ariaeus and his own forces have not yet entered battle. If we do not move back to assist Xenias, the Medes may choose to...”

  This was too much for Chirisophus. He brought his fist down on the nearest computer display and managed to shatter part of the metal framing. A large crack ran from the right-hand side and along the screen before it flashed and then cut out completely.

  “No, that is enough. We will finish off this last group of Terran scum, and then we will see if our great friend Xenias still needs help.”

  Broge Monsimm looked to the other officers on the deck. The mood had shifted from that of cool, calm professionalism to one that bordered on insurrection. The battle with the Zacynthians had turned into something more resembling a turkey shoot, while Xenias and the Legion were busy fighting a massive action both in space and in hand-to-hand.

  “Strategos, should we not be fighting our true enemy, the Medes?” asked Jeane Coxand.

  Chirisophus spun about and smashed his armoured fist into the tactical officer. The blow was powerful and sent a spurt of blood and two teeth flying from his mouth. The violence of the attack stunned the other officers on the deck, and instead of managing the battle; they all turned their attention to the drama unfolding in the heart of their own ship. Chirisophus dropped to the ground with a knee across the young Terran’s throat.

  “I am your commander, Dukas of Laconia and Strategos for this fleet.”

  A click to his right made him instinctively look up. Facing off against him was Broge Monsimm with a pulse pistol placed just a few centimetres from his own temple.

  “Monsimm, put that weapon down. This is treason.”

  The Kentarchos shook his head and then pushed the weapon up to the metal plating on the helm of the Strategos. Even with the thick, slightly curved plates, the helmet would be next to useless at this range.

  “No, Chirisophus. You are a Komes that has risked our own ships and that of the Legion. You are not thinking straight. The Legion comes first.”

  He turned and looked to the rest of the crew.

  “I relieve the Komes of his position as Strategos. For the rest of this fight we will operate under the command of Dukas Xenias. When this battle is over, there will be a reckoning, then and only then, will we choose our new commander.”

  Chirisophus pushed himself up to face off against Broge Monsimm.

  “I will not forget this, neither will my men.”

  With a nod from the Kentarchos, a group of Laconian spatharii approached and moved into flanking positions around Chirisophus.

  “Escort the Komes to his men. I suspect we will have need of ground troops in the next few hours of this battle.”

  Chirisophus clenched his teeth, but the mood on the bridge had changed. The officers and men were all Monsimm’s, and he had no doubt they were completely loyal to him.

  “If this had been a Laconian military ship, I would have your head removed from your shoulders.”

  Broge Monsimm actually smiled at this.

  “And that is where you are confused, old friend. This isn’t a Laconian military ship. This is a Titan of the Black Legion. If we fight as tribes, we will die alone. If you were a true-blooded
Laconian you would understand this. We are only as good as the ship on our right that supports us, and you would see us cast out from the Legion, for nothing but pride.”

  He looked to the guards.

  “Get him off my deck!”

  The Laconian commander shook them away, daring them to approach and instead stormed out of the command deck. His own men waited at the entrance and both bowed as he approached.

  "Prepare our warriors. It's time we showed these fools how real warriors fight."

  He marched off, thinking only of the Median ships that seemed to be causing so much trouble. An image formed in his mind, an image of the Median flagship and him at its heart with a Laconian blade embedded in Darbabad Qahreman's throat. It was a minor thing, but the thought of killing the Darbabad seemed to improve his mood.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Terran Light Cruiser ‘Drakonis’, Core Worlds

  Kentarchos Ezekiel Manus bent down and checked the pulses of the three Median soldiers. They lay together on the floor inside the command deck of the battered Terran warship. It took just a moment before he was satisfied the defenders had done their job.

  “Good, they’re gone.”

  Edge weapons had hit all as they’d rushed inside. It had been short, brutal, and bloody, but the Kentarchos had been adamant he wanted to avoid drawing attention to where their strength was inside the ship. He, along with his remaining officers, waited with weapons drawn as shouts and screams continued to spread through the vessel.

  “Report?” he stated.

  The tactical officer was now the only officer still waiting near a functioning computer terminal. Most of the other units were offline, but he had somehow kept most of his system functioning. Even as he looked at the screen, it died on him, leaving nothing but a black image.

  “We’re holding, Kentarchos. They have breached us in seven places. Boarding parties are contained in the aft, and two more are coming up from the hangars.”

  He turned to look to his commander.

  “They have been pushed back by our security patrols. We’re holding, for now.”