Black Legion: 04 - Last Stand (9 page)

“No, I would stop him from throwing away our Legion in a pointless battle.”

They were not interested in what he had to say though. Chirisophus saw his opportunity and activated the Asgeirr-Carbine built into his right arm. The combined weapon included a cut down pulse carbine as well as a deadly fighting blade, one fine enough to burn through armour plate with ease. Without saying a word, he leapt at Xenias and stabbed down with his right arm while bringing his shielded left arm up to protect himself.

“Xenias!” called out Xenophon.

The old warrior needed no advice on how to fight a battle. He took the impact of the powerful stab on his left arm and beat it aside. He kicked out at Chirisophus, but the Laconian was a fast warrior and easily evaded the strike. He tried to lock his right arm around Xenias’ neck, but with a strong shoulder barge the Arcadian separated them both. They circled like wary animals, each looking for an opening. Both men were powerful warriors with thick, rippling arms and barrel-like chests. They were the best their colonies had to offer, yet the animosity they held for their opponents bordered on the hatred they held for the Medes.

“Stop this, we have a battle to fight!” pleaded Xenophon, but neither would stop.

Xenias now moved in to strike, but each stab was beaten off against the vibrating energy field. Each impact sent a buzzing sound through the room, but the field never died. Chirisophus managed to slash at Xenias’ collar, but the blade in his arm cut just a few millimetres into the metal and left a pair of deep scratch marks in the armour.

“You fool!” Lady Artemas muttered.

She jumped in and deflected a wild attack from Chirisophus that swung near her face. Only her reflexes and speed saved her as the Asgeirr-Carbine whistled past her to slide along the breastplate of Xenias, leaving yet more marks on his armour. In a flash of movement, Artemas dropped to one knee and then kicked into the back of Chirisophus’ leg. A mighty warrior he might be, but the attack was beautifully timed, and as his leg swung out, he dropped to the ground on his back. Xenias watched in awe as the lithe Medes woman threw herself on top of the fallen Laconian and placed her leg across his throat. He looked up at her and laughed.

“My favourite position!”

This seemed to anger Artemas even more than usual, and she pulled back her hand to strike. Xenias lumbered into view and grabbed her arm before she could strike the fallen man. She might be fast, but her strength was inconsequential compared to the Terrans.

“Look!” he said nervously.

Even Chirisophus knew his tone was one that required examination. From the floor, he looked to the side at the tactical screen that showed the deployed fleet. The staggered line was only a short distance from the red icons that represented the Zacynthians. Jeane Coxand, the ship’s tactical officer had moved from his post and was pointing at the display. The man’s fingers were towards the top, and Chirisophus looked up to see another red formation moving to the right flank of the Legion.

“Dukas, we have been betrayed!”

“What?” he demanded.

Lady Artemas sprung from the ground and moved to the display. Her local knowledge was impressive, but her memory of ship designs and layouts was at times even more accurate than the data held on the Titan’s computer system. She stared intently at the shapes before looking to Xenias and then to Xenophon.

“These aren’t Zacynthian ships.”

She then looked to Chirisophus who had now risen top his feet and had wiped the dust from his armour. He walked past Xenias and threw him a withering stare before stopping alongside Artemas. The two couldn’t be more different; with Artemas the lithe, beautiful and elegant Medes princess, compared to the brutish hulk of the Laconian warrior.

“Whose are they?” he asked suspiciously.

Artemas shook her head in annoyance and pointed at the four largest shapes.

“They are warships from the Empire. Don’t you recognise them?”

All of them looked at the images as they increased in size. There were several different types of ships, and Xenophon counted each of them as more and more arrived. Finally, his count stopped but not before he reached a total of eighty-four ships.

“It’s Ariaeus,” said Artemas.

Xenias looked almost nervous at the sight, and Chirisophus took it as an immediate sign of weakness.

“You old fool!” he snapped and then indicated to his guards.

“Escort them out of here and to their quarters. I’m sick of the sight of them.”

A dozen Epilektoi stepped out from the flanks of the command deck and circled about the small group. Xenias’ hand twitched as he instinctively went for a weapon. Xenophon spotted the glimmer of a smile on the face of Chirisophus, and as his eyes met with Xenias; he moved his head slightly in disagreement. Xenias was no fool and relaxed his hand, much to the disappointment of the Laconian Dukas.

“Out, now!” his voice boomed, and then he turned his back on them.

Lady Artemas moved out first with the Dukas next to her. Glaucon, Roxana, Tamara, and Xenophon then followed. As soon as they were out and into the passageway, the door hissed shut with a thump. Two more Epilektoi guarded the entrance but neither moved. They instead waited as silent sentinels.

“What now?” asked Xenias.

Xenophon wiped his brow, considering their situation. They were aboard the Laconian Titan, a place where they could expect no help, certainly not if it conflicted with the direct wishes of Chirisophus. That thought rankled with Xenophon, especially after the great fuss the warrior had made upon their return from Cunaxa. He’d been promised to always be a friend of Laconia, yet when the time came he had been discarded with no more thought than the Laconian’s old rival, Xenias.

We need our own powerbase, a way to challenge the insanity of these fools.

He looked at Artemas, but her face was expressionless as if she wanted to hide both her thoughts and emotions. Glaucon, on the other hand, was far less politic. He nodded to the door.

“We aren’t making any decision from here. We need a ship and a crew that will listen.”

The Dukas and Xenophon said the same word at exactly the same time as realisation dawned on them.

“Poseidon!”

Terran Titan ‘Poseidon’, Larissa System, Core Worlds

The dromon shuddered as it made its way past the fighter escort and to the Titan’s hangar. The pilot was forced to bank sharply as one of the many gun batteries blasted away at distant targets. Each time the guns fired, the interior of the ship flickered with coloured lights. Xenophon looked out through one of the tiny windows and shook his head. He could see the flashes of gunfire as they moved through the shielded outer walls of the hangar. It was the size of several fields inside and divided up into protected hangar areas where armoured dromons waited.

“I don’t like this, not at all.”

Several rounds of pulse fire struck the hull as they moved in to land.

“Dukas, they do not want us to land!” said the pilot.

Xenias moved to his window and looked inside the ship. A single dromon burned in the background while the rest of the interior looked like a warzone. He snorted at the sight of such a disaster.

“What’s the plan?” asked Artemas.

Xenophon looked from her and towards the Dukas.

“We need a plan, Dukas. This place is falling apart, and the enemy is already upon us.”

Xenias nodded in agreement and tapped a button to bring up a tactical view of the area of space. The Black Legion was in a great mess with ships all over the place. Though most were heading for the enemy ships, they were now moving ahead piecemeal. He shook his head angrily.

“If Clearchus was here, this would never happen.”

He turned and looked to the small group in the dromon. Apart from Xenophon and his people, there were also four Arcadian guards dressed in almost identical clothing and armour as Xenias.

“I was never a great fan of the man. He was pig-headed, arrogant, and sometimes a fool. But right now we could use his leadership and discipline.”

He sighed angrily.

“We are just a brief moment away from losing this entire Legion. I must, no...we must fix this, and fast!”

It was as if he was both explaining it to them and also trying to persuade himself. None of the others on board disagreed with him, however. Xenias checked something on the tactical screen before speaking.

“First of all, the Poseidon needs to be brought under control. She’s already dropping back and needs a base to operate from.”

Glaucon pointed at the window and towards the line of enemy ships, just as they vanished to be replaced by the cold interior of the Titan.

“They’re deploying to our front and on our right flank.”

The Dukas looked to his small band but stopped moving when his eyes reached Xenophon. He lifted his eyebrows in a questioning look at the young man.

“As one of the remaining Dukas, my voice carries weight. Your advice has been useful so far. What would you suggest? I can get the attention of the bulk of the fleet, perhaps all of them other than the Laconians.”

Xenophon ran dozens of scenarios through his mind based on historical battles, war game simulations, and general knowledge. He glanced at Roxana and could see her doing the same. The Terrans had fought in a myriad of great space battles over the centuries against the Medes and their allies. There was no immediate situation he could think of though where he could make use of a historical precedent to help them. He weighed up the number of ships, the tactical position in the Larissa System, and the capabilities of each side.

Salamis?
he thought for a second.

The battles were fought in a similar location, where the Terrans had fought a larger Median fleet in a desperate though massively successful battle. They had won through the use of greater skill and training, as opposed to equipment or firepower. A quick glance at the spread out formation of Terran ships reminded him of their precarious situation. Unlike that battle a century earlier, this fleet was made up of dozens of feuding factions with no recognised leadership. The only thing he could count on was the skill and capability of the individual ships and their crews.

And their desire for vengeance,
he realised.

Roxana pointed at the largest of the Medes ships.

“We could get the fleet to concentrate on the largest of their ships. Hit their commanders and ignore the smaller vessels.”

Xenophon tilted his head slightly and shrugged. He knew this was his moment, but doubt was already gnawing at him. He had no authority in the fleet, but he had little faith in the remaining officers of the Legion to get them through this particular battle or even in the days that might follow.

They need somebody to lead them away from this, with honour and body intact.

He looked to Xenias and could see he was waiting for something, anything in fact. Since the escape from Cunaxa the survivors of the land battle, especially those closest to Clearchus, had gained prominence. Xenias carried authority, and Xenophon himself was starting to be listened to now, particularly when it came to local knowledge in terms of geography and military history.

Maybe all that time spent in books wasn’t completely wasted.

He took in a short breath and then began. He had a great list of things they might do but decided to keep things simple and tell him what he knew to be true rather than assumptions or ideas.

“Dukas, the Medes are subtle and flexible when it comes to war. They do not have the best warriors or generals, but they do have numbers and are not afraid to lose battles to win wars.”

Tamara tilted her head and groaned at this, but Roxana lifted her hand to silence her. Out of them all there, she was the only person that had spent time in the military. She knew only too well that Xenophon and Artemas were the keys to understanding this area of space.

“No, it’s true. Let him finish.”

Xenophon smiled in thanks towards her. They had been friends since he was a child. Although slightly older, they had been more like siblings than they had any right to be. While Glaucon had tried to win her over on numerous occasions at lavish parties back on their homeworld of Attica, Xenophon had never once tried. He looked at the ships and then wiped his brow with the back of his hand.

“No, I cannot believe they would simply turn up, deploy, and then fight us in open battle for one great engagement. They would lose, even against us in such a disorganised manner. Even worse, the Emperor himself could not afford such a disaster this close to his capital. It could unravel his entire hold on the Empire.”
 

Artemas stepped closer and placed her hand on Xenophon’s shoulder.

“True. My people remember well what happened at the great battle of Plataea. My father would happily sacrifice his entire fleet to destroy this Legion, but never at the expense of the Empire.”

Glaucon raised an eyebrow as though he didn’t really believe what she was telling him. The opinion of the Medes to the average Terran was lower than any other human, yet the Medes had won battles before, even when it seemed they were technically losing. Artemas placed her hand on Glaucon’s shoulder.

“Artaxerxes is no fool, and he will understand the futility of engaging in a battle that is to your advantage and so close to home.”

Xenias smiled at this, now starting to understand what was happening. Memories of a dozen old battles appeared to him, great failures of command that left elite Terran fleets stranded and cut off from home while being cut down over weeks of prolonged combat.

“It is a feint,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

Roxana leaned forward a little.

“What?”

Xenophon cleared his throat and continued.

“This entire attack is a feint, a trick to draw us into a battle we think we can win. He sent the Terrans in to face us first, knowing we could never resist the chance to smash those we consider even lower than the Medes themselves.”

She recoiled slightly as he spoke, and his face instantly softened in an apology.

“I didn’t mean that. I..”

Artemas lifted her hand and placed a finger on her mouth to silence him.

“I know.”

He flushed a little.

“Exactly,” answered Xenophon, “and once we are engaged and start to smash their fleet, we will pursue in small groups, and that is when they will strike.”

“Classic hit and run, it’s what I would do,” said Artemas.

A couple of the other Terran spatharii heard her words and gave her a sarcastic look. It didn’t concern her, and instead of ignoring them, she looked directly back at them and smiled.

“Yes, you heard, and in case you’re wondering, I have launched hit and run attacks against your people.”

She looked back to Xenophon and his friends to see them all looking at her in an odd, even startled way. She leaned in close and spoke quietly so that the others might not hear.

“Well, I did jump out at a few of your traitors prior to Cunaxa.”

Tamara laughed and had to place her arm in front of her mouth to stop making the noise while Glaucon merely coughed to disguise his pleasure. She turned to Xenophon and gave him the softest smile he’d seen in what felt like days.

“I recall I ambushed you a few times too.”

He could feel his face redden, and Glaucon laughed even louder. Xenias closed his eyes and breathed slowly for a few seconds. The dromon struck the hangar floor and slid to a halt on the firm surface of the Titan. The vibration slowed and then there was silence.

“Very well, that is how it shall be.”

He lifted himself to his feet and threw a quick glance at his arms to check he was suitably attired and ready for battle.

“Watch yourselves, this ship has fallen to mutiny.”

A triple burst of gunfire confirmed his assertion, but it didn’t stop him from hitting the door release button. It hissed open, and the subtle change of pressure sent dust and vapour up in a cloud.

“Out, now!” he growled.

Xenophon marched out of the dromon and onto the deck of the massive warship to find a violent struggle already underway. At least two Boeotians were dead at the far end, with a third being dragged to safety behind his comrades. Out in the middle a swirling melee with up to thirty warriors raged amongst the dromons. It was hard to tell most of them apart due to their armour and clothing, but in just a few seconds, Xenophon had identified the main groupings.

“Stop this!” he shouted as loudly as he could.

Glaucon and Roxana moved past him and waited at the bottom of the ramp with their carbines at the ready. Dukas Xenias marched down behind them in full battle attire. A group of Arcadians spotted him and rushed to his side, perhaps expecting him to join in. No sooner had he reached the ground where Xenophon waited, when a pair of Atticans jumped into view. Xenophon grappled with the first man, but it took the intervention of the much stronger Glaucon to finally put the man on the ground. The second slowed and then stopped before coming to grips with the new arrivals. Xenias released the two spikes from his arm armour and strode out into the melee.

“I am Dukas Xenias, commander of the Arcadian contingent, and I am taking command of this ship!”

A few stopped and listened but most continued to fight while almost half didn’t even notice he’d arrived. A Boeotian soldier in the uniform of a dekarchos leapt towards him, but he was no match for the sheer speed and savagery of the Dukas. With a single twist of his arm, he slammed his right fist into the soldier’s chest. The spike easily punched through the armour and into the sternum. He snapped his hand back out, and the man dropped to the floor like a lifeless doll. The brutal efficiency caught even the most violent of the brawlers to stop in their tracks. One lifted a pistol, but the four Arcadian bodyguards took quick aim with their own rifles directly at the man’s head.

“I will not tell you again. Now, what in the name of all the Gods is going on here?”

He looked to his left and then to his right before stopping and staring hard at one man in particular. He was a little shorter than the average, but completely bald and surrounded by a pack of angry looking Boeotians. In his hand, he carried some kind of metal bar.

“You. Your name?”

The man appeared taken aback at the question.

“I...uh...Dekarchos Andronicus.”

Xenias shook his head.