Black Legion: 03 - Warlords of Cunaxa

by Michael G. Thomas

  “Very well, Cyrus, maintain your current mission. Secure the walls and stabilise your flank. I have revised orders to the Boeotians, Arcadians and Megarans to assist you. They are bringing over four thousands Terrans to your aid. Proxenus, the commander of the Boeotian contingent will command them and help secure the outer section of the Citadel. He will take command of Meno and his forces upon his arrival.”

  A missile exploded nearby and sent shards of red-hot steel into the left flank of the dromon. A small number of holes appeared but luckily, none of the ammunition was able to penetrate the metal skin. Clearchus glanced at the damage and turned his attention back to the warriors inside the dromon. Kleandridas turned away from the damage and back to Clearchus. He’d been following the conversation with interest, and he looked unimpressed.

  “I’ve seen the reports from Cyrus. Can he take the walls without us? It will only be Proxenus and his combined forces trying to take the Citadel?”

  Clearchus nodded but was stopped from speaking by the sound of a dromon exploding nearby. It had been packed with dozens of Laconian spatharii, men and women that Clearchus knew individually. His heart felt heavy, but as always, the battle had to come first. A fighter screamed past them with thick black smoke trailing from its engines. It quickly lost control and spun upside, tumbling to the ground; he looked away and then back to his deputy.

  “Yes, it will be enough to take the walls, but Cyrus will need our Laconians to finish the job. My worry is that we need the ground troops to link up with Cyrus. By the time the rest of Proxenus’ troops are in position, Tissaphernes will hit them. We need to smash him and fast. After the flank is stable, we will reinforce Meno and Proxenus at the Citadel for the final push.”

  Kleandridas nodded in agreement at this revised plan. Clearchus took a long breath, filling his lungs with air.

  “We have a small window of opportunity, and Tissaphernes is right where we want him. This isn’t the way I wanted it, but it could be to our advantage. Cyrus’ early attack has drawn out Tissaphernes. If he’d waited, we might have already been fully engaged. With one swift hammer blow, we will scatter his troops. Then we will return and explain to Cyrus how Laconians besiege cities.”

  Kleandridas grinned at this last comment. He’d fought in enough battles alongside Clearchus to know exactly what happened when Laconian heavy infantry were used, and it was anything but pretty.

  “I will coordinate our dromons for a combat insertion. We’ll be on the ground in less than a minute, two thousand, seven hundred spatharii and a thousand stratiotes. Tissaphernes will never know what has hit him!”

  As the commanders of the Laconians issued new orders, the force of dromons and their escorts broke away from their advance on the Citadel. The large formation split up into three separate divisions, with the bulk of the drones and fighter cover staying with the larger, central division that was led by Clearchus himself. One made directly for Tissaphernes and his massed forces, and the other two sped off to the flanks. Directly beneath them, moved the vanguard of the rest of the Legion. The fastest were the eight-wheeled armoured personnel carriers of the Arcadians. Behind them moved an array of tracked and wheeled vehicles, all bristling with weapons and covered in thick armour. Each contingent flew the colours of their respective regions, but the armour of the vehicles maintained the dull grey, consistent with the rest of the Legion. It was a great sledgehammer with one simple goal in mind, the reduction of the fortified Citadel. Clearchus and his airborne reinforcements were the scalpel, a force of almost four thousand warriors, and all being carried into battle by the large numbers of dromons.

  * * *

  Xenophon heard the loud drone from the horde of dromons and escorts behind him. He had little time to look, but was able to glance over his right shoulder long enough to spot the aerial reinforcements changing direction and shooting away parallel to the wall. He spotted scores of craft, probably over a hundred, but he had little time to enjoy the view. The wall of the Citadel was proving just as difficult to hold, as it had been to capture. Artemas had also heard them but instead had taken the opportunity to move from the door and had lifted her carbine, ready for trouble. They’d already cleared this section of the wall and were looking to move into the relative safety of the tower. Thirteen of the Night Blades had made it onto the same section, and all of them kept low to avoid being seen by those on the higher levels of the tower that looked down to the wall.

  “You ready?” he called out to the others.

  They all nodded even though their numbers and heavy equipment was limited. Roxana moved to the doorway but noticed something. She leapt to the right just as two of the Median soldiers moved out from the entrance to the spiral staircase leading inside the tower. They carried their pulse rifles low and were evidently expecting trouble. Glaucon didn’t hesitate and opened fire at point-blank range. He cut both of them apart as the others waited patiently near the wall. The roar from the powerful weapon pushed him back half a metre, yet he continued to hold down the trigger. Two more Medes soldiers appeared and tried to avoid the fire, but it was all in vain. The entire group were thrown back inside in a spray of bloody and battered armour.

  “That’s it, go, go, go!” shouted Xenophon.

  He was through the doorway and inside the wide room. It appeared to be a barracks. There were two more soldiers inside, but these were heavily armoured and much more thickly set. The first brought down a gold coloured blade that glanced off Xenophon’s shoulder armour. The power was surprisingly heavy, and he was knocked down to one knee. Artemas jumped inside, quickly parrying the man’s blade and beating him back with her own weapons. Glaucon’s arrival was announced by another burst of cannon fire that punched fist sized holes through the second soldier’s chest armour. As Artemas and two of the Night Blades chased down and finished the first soldier, more of them moved inside. Xenophon lifted himself up and tapped the node in his helmet.

  “Komes, we’ve taken the first level of the tower.”

  “Good work, Dekarchos. Keep moving. I need those enfilade guns taken care of. How about the wall?”

  Xenophon moved back in the direction they’d arrived from and looked out onto the wall. The crenulations to the right faced the Terran battle lines. No more Night Blades had made it, and he could only assume they had been killed or forced back into cover. He could see movement. It was more Medes soldiers coming out of the other staircases and onto the top of the wall. He lifted his right arm and fired a long burst from his Asgeirr-Carbine. The fire caught one of them, but the others took cover and proceeded to send a withering hail of pulse rounds towards Xenophon. He ducked back and shouted over to the nearest Night Blades.

  “You two! Protect this doorway. No one comes in or goes out, understood?”

  The older of the two nodded and took up position on the left hand side. All the Night Blades were excellent shots, and Xenophon had no doubt that these two would easily be able to hold the doorway, at least for the few minutes he needed to finish his mission.

  “Right, everybody else with me. We’re taking this damned tower!”

  With that, Xenophon, Glaucon, Artemas, Roxana and the eleven Night Blades moved onto the wide, circular staircase that led up to the higher levels. The design had much in common with ancient Terran fortresses. Glaucon and Xenophon led the group as they surged upstairs. It seemed an age before they burst out into the next room to find a dozen Medes automaton soldiers. They were busy taking aim from the two positions on each side of the room. A bulge on the flanks of the tower allowed them a perfect view from which to shoot down onto either the walls or just in front of them. Xenophon charged ahead, and the others rushed to join him. With two Asgeirr-Carbines blasting away, he cleared the entire left side of soldiers before they even knew what was happening. The rest lifted their hands in the universal signal of surrender when they saw the enraged Terrans running amok in their tower. As quickly as that, the tower had been secured. Xenophon contact Komes Pasion.

  “Kom
es, we’ve secured the tower. The walls are safe for assault.”

  There was a short moment of crackling static, and the happy tone of the Komes appeared.

  “Excellent work. Meno and his siege troops have made two breaches in the lower levels of the near wall. This is the moment, my friend. Give us whatever fire support you can. Gods willing, we’ll control this entire segment within the next twenty minutes!”

  Artemas looked over to him, her blade dripping with the blood of the automaton she had killed.

  “What did the Komes say?”

  Xenophon smiled back to her and then looked at the rest of the weary warriors.

  “The assault on the wall has begun. We’re to provide fire support while they storm the walls. If we take the rest of this wall, well, this will be the point for the entire army’s breakthrough.”

  Glaucon walked to the left-side bulge and pushed his pulse cannon into position. He loaded in a new magazine.

  “Well, we’d better get busy, then!”

  Xenophon smiled at his friend, and for the shortest of moments, he felt a sense of calm. They had reached their objective, the great planet of Cunaxa, and their prize was almost in sight. If they could end this campaign today, he could start planning his return to Attica and more importantly, he could put serious thought into undoing those that had wronged him and Glaucon and take revenge for the murder of his father.

  “Look, they are starting the attack!” Roxana called out from the other side of the tower. Xenophon rushed over, crouching for a better view. The small extended bulges were only a couple of metres wide and fitted with two vertical slits to shoot through. Fitted on the wall was an activation panel that was switched on, and a small generator field covered the slit with a deflection shield. It was simple but extremely effective, at least Xenophon hoped it was. He looked out through the narrow slit and watched the incredible sight of thousands of soldiers charging the walls. With the tower cleared, there was now space on both sides for the lightly armoured automatons to use grapples to climb the wall. An equal number made for the breaches created by the heavy weapons of Meno, although the great surge quickly turned into a crowd as the bottlenecks of the breaches slowed them down. Movement at the far end of the wall showed the arrival of Medes soldiers. They looked like automatons but wore different helmets and moved with speed and purpose that meant they must be Medes natives.

  “Stop them!” he called.

  Roxana had already spotted them and sat herself behind the dual pulse cannon mounted in the bulge. She took careful arm and pulled the trigger. The weapon mount shook, but its cradle absorbed the recoil and allowed her to fire a long and extremely noisy burst of fire. From this position on the tower, it was devastating. The one weapon was enough to clear the top of the wall and force the tiny group of survivors to flee to cover. More gunfire erupted from the other side, as Glaucon and one of the Night Blades turned the guns on the other wall. The tower had become a thorn in the centre of the enemy defences.

  This might actually work! Xenophon thought, almost happily.

  “We’ve got trouble!” shouted Glaucon.

  Xenophon left his position, but the guns continued to fire in his absence. He moved quickly to Glaucon and looked out onto the wall. To the right were hundreds of Cyrus’ soldiers, climbing as quickly as they could up the sheer face. On the other side of the wall were an almost equal number of Medes soldiers. They were taking cover behind a series of secondary defences or running into one of scores of access hatches leading into the wall itself.

  “Where are they going?”

  Artemas was already there and watching carefully.

  “I know what they are doing, Xenophon. The rear half of the wall includes armoured walkways. Each section is a hundred metres long and sealed with locked bulkhead doors at each end. From inside the wall, they can move throughout the structure without being seen.”

  Xenophon shook his head.

  “That’s great. Can they get to these towers?”

  Artemas considered his question for a moment. She’d played in the tower and along the wall as a child, but she couldn’t recall the options available to the enemy right now. Loud footsteps caught their attention, and both Xenophon and Artemas moved to the staircase in anticipation of trouble. But the face of one of the Night Blades stratiotes appeared.

  “Dekarchos, they found a way in from the lowest level and onto the wall access area. We’ve barricaded the floor doorway, but they are blasting through it.”

  Xenophon turned to Artemas. “There’s your answer.”

  With a quick flick of his wrists, he activated the razor sharp blades of his two Asgeirr-Carbines. They pushed out like sharpened projectiles in front of hands and large punch daggers. Glaucon looked to see what was happening.

  “No, you four stay here,” Xenophon ordered and stepped into the stairs with Artemas. “You have to keep them clear. Once the walls are taken, we can get Cyrus’ troops to take over here.”

  “Good luck!” Glaucon shouted to his friend and returned to his task of blasting every single Medes soldier he could set his sights onto. Xenophon glanced back at Glaucon, Roxana and the two stratiotes still with them, and then he rushed downstairs. It only took a few seconds to cover the distance but jumping into the lower level, he was greeted with a sight of blood and carnage. Three Night Blades stratiotes lay dead on the floor as well as the body of a single Mulac warrior. He’d fought them before on Cilicia and was well aware of how tough they were to kill and how violent they were in battle. Most of the survivors were busy defending the main doorway. The door itself had been blasted apart. A quick glance outside showed a larger group of Mulacs with energised shields over their heads. It was a crude copy of what the Laconians did, and many were still cut down from the gunfire unleashed by Glaucon and the others. Even so, enough made it across to put pressure on the doorway.

  Down there!” shouted one of the Night Blades while pointing into the middle of the room. Xenophon turned his gaze down to where a metal plate riddled with holes continued to shake.

  “We stopped them once, but they’ve brought up reinforcements. I bet...”

  The hatch blew open with such immense force that the metal plating struck the reinforced ceiling and clattered to the ground. The shockwave threw Artemas, Xenophon and the two nearest stratiotes to the floor. Before any of them could recover, a group of a seven Mulacs jumped from their hiding place, rushing at them. Two more Night Blades were killed, and the survivors were forced to give ground and fall back to the staircase. Artemas was up first, firing a burst from her carbine. She was struck in the shoulder by the fist of a Mulac. Xenophon lifted himself up to one knee, but two Mulacs rushed him and held him down. Unlike Glaucon, Xenophon was only of average strength and could not force his way to safety. He struggled, but it made little difference.

  “Artemas!” he cried out, fearful for her life.

  Several more bursts of fire came from the staircase, followed by a dull impact to his head. His vision faded, shortly by his hearing. The last thing he could make out was the sound of heavy gunfire.

  * * *

  In the outer limits of the city, the great Legions of Tissaphernes had already smashed through the perimeter. Squads of automatons were in full flight, and much smaller groups of Medes soldiers did their best to stem the tide. As the Laconian reinforcements swept in, it was clear the entire front had collapsed. Mixed in with the wheeled vehicles were the monstrous creations of the robotic domains. Most of them were no bigger than humans, but some of the heavy siege machines were almost twenty metres tall and bristling with building levelling weapons. Their great height made them stick out from the rest of the troops like the spires of some ancient city.

  Strategos Clearchus watched the great horde from his dromon with a look of surprise and awe. The shimmering energy fields coming from some of the larger robotic machines projected defences above them to protect the ground forces from aerial bombardment. He almost smiled at the prospect of getting his han
ds dirty. Never before had he seen such a battle array, and it sent surges of adrenalin pumping through his body. He’d never felt so alive. He opened his mouth to speak but was stopped by a bemused looking Kleandridas.

  “Strategos, it is Tissaphernes. He wishes to speak with you.”

  Clearchus looked at his comrade with a confused look. They were just seconds from their combat landing, and the incoming fire to the dromons was overwhelming. He tapped the button in front of him, and the image of the enemy commander appeared. Rather than keep it private, he tapped the button to the side of the Mede’s face, sending it out to every dromon and armoured vehicle in the Legion. The rest of the Terrans would also receive the audio.

  “Strategos Clearchus, I see you have arrived on Cunaxa. I have no intention of engaging your forces. I have been given my orders by the Emperor himself to stop this insurrection by Cyrus. Stand your forces down, and I will bypass them and move on to Cyrus. Your consideration will, of course, be fully rewarded with double the payment you are receiving from the traitor.”

  Clearchus smiled back at him, nodding to his pilot. The dromon swept in low, barely ten metres above the ground and then reversed its engines. The back draft kicked up substantial amounts of dust as they moved in to land.

  “We have a job to do here, and so far, Cyrus is the only Medes that has kept his word. You betrayed us on Cilicia, and now you are trying to do the same again.”

  Tissaphernes looked almost nervous on the video screen. Unlike most of the warriors currently engaged in battle, he wore limited armour and seemed to carry no substantial weapons. He was the kind of military commander that Clearchus hated; someone who sent others to die but did nothing himself.

  “Clearchus, you are outnumbered, and I’m afraid, outclassed. It is my intention that after this is over, I will visit the Terran border worlds. Would you rather I came to them as a friend, or as a foe?”