Black Legion: 02 - Assault on Khorram (13 page)

“What the hell has that idiot got into now?” muttered Clearchus.

“It’s one of our replenishment stations, and they are armed to defend themselves against raiders and pirates. It will only fire on unauthorised vessels within range of its weapons.”

In a series of bright flashes, the rest of the fleet arrived and positioned themselves around the Titans. By staying at a sensible distance, the ships were safe and able to observe the ongoing action in relative safety.

“Strategos,” called out one of the science team, “initial scans show the gas giants in this system are viable for refuelling. It’s what we need.”

Clearchus nodded, pleased at the news. He looked about and spotted Jeane Coxand, the Titan’s tactical officer.

“I need the tactical situation, fast!”

She nodded but said nothing, her hands moving quickly over her computer system. Pages of data flew past until with a final push, she moved the information to the main display. It showed the station and the large number of ships stationed around it.

“What do you think?” asked Cyrus.

Kleandridas gave the display a quick glance and looked to Clearchus for permission to speak. As usual he nodded, deferring to the wisdom and experience of his deputy.

“Ariaeus has positioned his ships too close. At that range, the stations defences are easily able to break through his shielding. I suggest a concentrated bombardment with heavy weapons against the station’s primary weapon systems. Once cleared, we can bring in warships to close range to release boarding parties.”

Cyrus looked surprised.

“What is the problem?” asked Clearchus.

“Ariaeus has walked into a trap, and it looks like combat drones are defending the interior. You suggest a boarding action into the heart of a site occupied by drones. Have you never faced them before? It is suicide.”

“Drones? They are powerful but dumb. They have to be, or else they might start getting ideas of their own. Why do you think we don’t use them?” he fired back with more than a hint of enjoyment at the Mede’s discomfort.

 
Cyrus looked at the main display; it appeared something had caught his eye. Clearchus watched but was none the wiser. The tactical officer sent the revised data to the screen and waited for the word. Clearchus appeared satisfied with what he saw and tapped the unit to grant his audio access to all Terran ships in the fleet. He looked to the commander of the Titan, Kentarchos Monsimm.

“All ships are to stay at the allotted distance. Commence bombardment of the station’s defences.”

The Kentarchos nodded and turned to his kybernetes. It was just a few words, but it marked the start of the Terran battle of Aronton, and a battle that would last less than an hour. His announcement was what the officers on the command deck were waiting for. In seconds, the orders from the senior commanders made their way to each ship’s kentarchos and then down to the tactical officers and their gunners. It took less than ten seconds for the first of the guns to open fire.

“Show me,” he said with a calm tone to his voice.

The tactical officer moved most of the data to the right side of the display and brought up a high resolution video feed of the ongoing battle. The beams from many Terran ships were impressive, but it was the firepower from the Titans that dwarfed the actions of any of the other vessels. Even the shielding of the station stood no chance against such incredible power.

“Her primary weapons systems are down, shall we continue against the point defence weapons?” asked Kentarchos Monsimm.

Clearchus watched the destruction of large parts of the station with satisfaction. It was a minor victory but causing damage to Median infrastructure was no great loss to him. After all, the Medes were no friends of the Terrans. The heavy cutters on the Titan were capable of burning through at least six layers of capital ship shielding. He could see the massive puncture wounds went inside the station to a substantial depth. He almost forgot to reply, so enthralled he was by the carnage against the station.

“Take away her weapons, all of them.”

The kentarchos continued issuing orders, and even more firepower rained down from the scores of Terran ships. The Median vessels refused to move from the close orbit of the station and continued to take fire from the closer-ranged weapons. Clearchus walked from his position, and Kleandridas moved to him, waiting for his orders.

“Assemble a boarding party, heavily armed for ship-borne assault. When the guns are silenced, you will take the landing area and provide a stable extraction point for Ariaeus and any of his warriors that are still left.”

Kleandridas grinned at the assignment, and with a firm salute marched off. As he reached the door, a small group of guards peeled off to join him. Clearchus watched him go, a feeling of emptiness drifting about his insides. It was a small matter, but he did miss the wrench of close combat and the thrill of fighting face to face with his enemies. For a brief moment, he considered calling back his deputy, but deep down he knew it was no longer his place to command small actions such as this one. No more than a hundred men would be required for this task; it would be foolhardy to risk the commander of the entire Legion for something so insignificant.

“Strategos, we have something. Six automated scout cruisers have arrived. They carry the same markings as the station and are powering up their weapons.”

Clearchus looked to Cyrus with a mixture of anger and confusion on his face. As far as he was aware, the Medes made use of their vast number to power their war machine. This interest in advanced machine intelligence posed a serious threat to the Terrans. In the past, they had dabbled with the technology, but the most advanced and independent the machines, the more dangerous they became if an enemy was able to turn them on their masters. The Laconians had suffered two major uprisings, and on both occasions their Terran enemies had managed to tap into the command and control systems of their armies, sending them back against the Laconian warriors.

“What is going on here? Since when have your people made use of automated armed forces?”

The Titan shook slightly as a volley of plasma shells hammered into the portside shielding. Kentarchos Broge Monsimm shouted to the crew, encouraging them to keep at the battle. From what Clearchus could see, there was little real danger to the Terrans from these ships. More plasma fire scattered amongst the ships, but according to the tactical display none managed to penetrate the shielding. Cyrus watched with amusement as the one-sided battle continued.

“These are nothing but toys. I heard my brother was investing in these systems at the less important staging posts, trading stations and scout locations.”

“Do you not have the manpower to garrison your own Empire? What if an enemy is able to force them to turn on your own forces?” asked Clearchus.

“Oh, we have more than enough. I think you will find these systems are programmed to repel any but those deemed fit by Artaxerxes. Once we have access to a working friend or foe transmitter, we will be able to shut them down. As for using them instead of Medes warriors, it is more a question of loyalty than one of numbers. By automating the less important, he can keep a close eye on those forces at key locations through the Empire. It is quite sensible if you think about it.”

Clearchus considered his comments but was still dissatisfied at being surprised by their arrival. If made him wonder how it might change their campaign.

“So this is his way of concentrating military forces at certain points in the Empire? I don’t like it. By doing this, he can maintain larger forces and respond more quickly. Are you sure this isn’t a response to our little operation?”

Cyrus laughed at the suggestion.

“If my brother used these machines at every starbase and station in the Empire, his Median fleet would still outnumber them by a hundred to one. As I said, they are a toy for the less important locations. This is good news for us. It tells us we have selected a route to the Core Worlds that he deems unlikely to be travelled by hostile forces. It is only a handful, and my brother would never use them in large numbers, just in case somebody could turn them against him.”

Clearchus looked back to the main screen and watched the volleys of energy beams and plasma rounds flashing back and forth. They might only be machines, but they were certainly putting up a good fight. He thought back to the stories of the machines and the great siege of Laconia nearly two hundred years earlier.

What if we can find a way to do the same as they did to us? A division of robotic ships with no supply requirements could be a major asset in the coming battle,
he considered.
Plus it would give me another weapon in this constant struggle for supremacy with that bastard, Ariaeus.

Vendetta, Su’bartu Maelstrom

The corridor was dark, slightly damp and filled with containers and abandoned pieces of equipment. In this respect, it was similar to almost any other part of the ship. Smears of grease and oil ran along the floor, and at one end lay a large pool of mixed oil that had leaked from a broken drum. Somebody had covered it with rags, but they had been kicked away, helping to spread the muck and filth through the cramped space. It had been an hour now and still there was no sign of Tamara. Xenophon moved as quietly as he could, desperate to relieve the cramp in his right leg. Glaucon leaned against the wall, doing his best to look innocent, but to Xenophon he looked more like a guard. Roxana had stayed back so she could keep an eye on the main thoroughfare, just in case anybody of note turned up to cause trouble.

“I don’t like this, why is it taking so long?” whispered Glaucon from his position.

Xenophon shrugged and lowered his voice as best as he could.

“She’s a strong one. If there’s trouble, I’m sure we would hear something.”

Glaucon nodded at that, if anything she was a little too capable of looking after herself. Beneath her small frame and bright blue hair she was violent, sometimes aggressive and fast. In fact, the more Xenophon thought about what he had said, the more he worried she might get herself into a violent confrontation. A clunk around the corner and near the area where the meeting took place caught their attention. Glaucon looked back to him and nudged his forehead towards the direction of the sound. Xenophon nodded back and strained to listen.

“Someone’s coming!” said a concerned Glaucon. He leaned back to the wall and tried to look as nonchalant as a man of his size could. Footsteps became louder, followed by more noise from other people. Xenophon felt a mixture of worry and relief at the turn of events; the meeting must be over.

A man appeared at the end of the corridor. He wore military fatigues and looked nervous as he continued past Glaucon and off into the darkness. Another two appeared, the men whispered as they also passed by. Xenophon did his best to not move and managed to escape being noticed as they disappeared. More footsteps and then the form of a shorter, feminine figure appeared. In the dull light it wasn’t easy to tell, but when she moved to Glaucon and gently thumped him it was clear.

“Hey you!” she said nervously.

Glaucon grabbed her arm, pulled her away and then moved along the corridor. They passed Xenophon and took a sharp left towards one of the main intersections. Xenophon stayed in cover of darkness and waited, looking for signs of anybody that might follow her. It looked safe until he spotted movement. The person moved with stillness and precision Xenophon hadn’t seen outside of the best dance schools. It was a woman and she wore dark clothes, tight fitting that revealed no discernible sound. She moved to where Glaucon had stood, barely five metres from Xenophon and then stopped. She examined the hall, and for the briefest of moments, he was convinced she had spotted him. The shadows between the two crates seemed to vanish as he waited. Incredibly, she looked away and continued moving along the corridor. It took nearly half a minute for her to complete the journey along its entire length before finally turning off at the end.

Who is that, and why is she following Tamara?

Once he was satisfied there was nobody else in the corridor, he pulled himself out from the shadow. As he moved, his back creaked, and he was forced to move slowly as the cramp in his body slowly vanished. He didn’t have time to waste and followed in the same direction as the mysterious woman. He moved quickly until reaching the end of the corridor and the T-junction. He stopped and glanced backwards, checking for signs that he was being followed, but it looked clear. He turned back and gasped.

“Why are you following me?” demanded the mysterious woman.

She blocked his path and stood less than a metre away. At this distance, he could see the close-fitting clothing and the hood that covered most of her head. A flicker of light from the dim lamps at the end of the corridor gave just a hint of her face and the whites of her eyes. He felt something touching his stomach and glanced down. He gasped at spotting a black blade, long and thin, pushed up to his body.