Black Legion: 02 - Assault on Khorram (3 page)

He paused and tried to assess the crowd, especially their mood.

“The only reason I have been able to assemble a force of this kind was by playing along with this feud with Tissaphernes. He brought in the Mulacs I am sure, to try and break me and this Legion. But you all proved him wrong.”

There was nothing, not even a gesture from the audience; they simply stared at him with empty eyes as he spoke.

What is wrong with them?

He waited, watching them but nothing changed. The longer he watched them, the more he thought he could see anger or disdain in their faces. Perhaps the ruse of recruiting them to deal with pirates and raiders had been a little optimistic, but still, they were only mercenaries.

Mercenaries, of course,
he said to himself,
all I need to do is to appeal to their most base nature.

He nodded in satisfaction at his realisation. It was only when he could see one of the Dukas watching him that he caught himself and stopped the physical gesture.

Okay, perhaps this will get their attention.

“This is all politics and diplomacy, and for that I apologise. What is of much more importance is what I want you to do and what your rewards will be for doing it. You are mercenaries, the best I have ever seen and worthy of the greatest pay.”

That seemed to make a change, and already a number of the lower ranked Komes were busy speaking quietly to their comrades.

Yes, nothing gets the attention of a mercenary quite like the idea of money, now does it?
He almost laughed to himself at his tactic.

“For those of the Legion that follow me against my brother, I will offer you this. First, an immediate payment to the value of triple pay, plus...”

He waited, letting the suspense build up.

“Plus a percentage of the loot from the spoils of my brother’s defeated army, and this will be substantial.”

Now this statement caught the Legion’s attention. Pay was one thing, but the chance to take a chunk of the loot from a defeated Median army could be enough to make a man rich. It was the dream of any mercenary to face such an opportunity.

Dukas Xenias lifted both of his arms for silence, and most of the officers quietened down with the exception of a handful from the Boeotian contingent commanded by Proxenus. He called out, his booming voice echoing across the great hall.

“I’m sure you are aware, Lord Cyrus, that as Arcadians, we have a treaty with Emperor Artaxerxes. It is not just us, but the Laconians also have the same non-aggression agreement with the Empire. If we join you then we, as citizens of Boeotia and Laconia, would be considered enemies of the Empire.”

Cyrus smiled at the assembled warriors.

“Only if we lose,” he replied with a mischievous grin that made even Strategos Clearchus smile.

* * *

Xenophon waited along with the many hundreds of other stratiotes warriors in the landing bay of the Arcadian Titan, Olympia. Like the rest of his comrades, he was armoured and equipped as a light infantryman. This meant he wore quality armour plus a variety of ranged weapons. Unlike the more heavily equipped spatharii, they didn’t carry the heavy energy shields that made the other troops so devastating at close quarters. To his right stood Pentarchos Glaucon, his faithful, if somewhat excitable, comrade from Attica. Tamara, still with her electric blue hair, stood further along the column. Xenophon looked across the open space to the other line of warriors and quickly spotted the rest of the stratiotes. They were part of the same unit and wore the patches of the Night Blades, the adopted name of the unit. Stood to the right of the group was Roxana Devereux, his close friend and one of their newest dekarchos.

“She looks pretty good with ten men at her command, don’t you think?” whispered Glaucon slyly in his ear.

Xenophon struggled not to laugh, but a brief splutter caught the attention of one of the more senior dekarchos. He swallowed and looked straight ahead as if nothing had happened.

“Attention!” shouted one of the commanders. Every warrior stood straight and waited for their leader. The door hissed open and out burst Dukas Xenias and his retinue. It was clear from the shouting that something had annoyed him. Rather than speaking to his troops, he simply stormed off along the landing bay and to one of the many ramps that followed on up inside the Titan. Only Komes Pasion and a handful of his junior officers waited behind.

“What the hell is going on?” muttered one of the stratiotes. The Komes heard the man and glared at him but said nothing. A colourful argument continued before he followed after the Dukas into the darkness.

“Okay, people, dismissed!” shouted a woman at the end of the hall. It wasn’t clear who she was, but in a flash the landing bay was filled with the movement of hundreds of warriors. Xenophon walked over to Roxana who was busy speaking with the members of her own unit. She spotted his approach and finished up in time to turn to speak with him.

“Xenophon, what’s going on?” she asked.

He shrugged and glanced in the direction the Dukas had taken.

“I know the Dukas was taking part in an operational meeting with the Strategos.”

“He must have heard something that didn’t agree with him,” suggested Glaucon with more than a hint of his usual sarcasm.

Tamara ran over and joined them. She looked almost excited and interrupted them all.

“I’ve just heard about the Dukas, have you?”

“Heard what?” Xenophon asked.

“The Dukas is deserting the Legion.”

“What?” snapped a tall, black dekarchos who was marching past with his own group. He walked over and looked at the blue-haired Tamara.

“Who told you that crap?”

“I heard from the transport pilot if you must know,” she replied irreverently and then turned back to Xenophon. “Apparently, there was a big argument, and the Dukas refused to continue on the campaign.”

Roxana nodded in agreement as the young girl spoke.

“That makes sense, you saw how pissed he was when he landed.”

A high pitched whistle stopped their conversation. It was the warning that usually preceded a public announcement.

“This is it!” said Glaucon.

There was a short crackle on the speakers, and then at key points on the ship a number of holographic models of the commander appeared. About ten metres from where Xenophon stood the closest public address image appeared. They walked over and joined the dozens of other fighters as they crowded around. Dukas Xenias was an imposing figure and was now wearing his full parade dress, including tactical armour and weapons.

“Crew and warriors of Olympia, it grieves me to inform you that this ship and her complement of warriors will not be participating in the campaign under the command of Lord Cyrus. The terms of our enlistment into the Legion have proven false and make my taking part illegal if I continue. All Arcadian warriors are also unable to continue. For the rest of you, the same is true. You have signed up to fight for me, and it is my intention to take this ship and our escorts back into Terran space. We will conduct our own operations against the Psidians and have been offered substantial rewards by Satrap Tissaphernes to participate.”

Glaucon flashed a glance over the Xenophon.

“Tissaphernes?” he whispered.

Roxana moved closer to Xenophon, so close that he forgot what the Dukas was saying for a few seconds as he felt her breath on his face. Her quiet voice brought him back to the present though. He looked at her face and realised she had been speaking.

“Xenophon, are you listening?” she asked. “Is he serious?”

He looked at her and back to the holographic model. The Dukas gave the impression he was looking directly at him. It was of course nonsense, the communication system being used was one way, but the illusion was impressive.

“Lord Cyrus intends to depose the rightful Emperor in a bloody civil war. He will use the Legion as the spear tip of this war and will throw our best Terran warriors into a conflict that could spread to every Terran world. He plans a full scale expedition into the heart of the Median Empire.”

Glaucon unintentionally laughed. Xenophon pulled at his shoulder, but his noise had already spread and started off several of the others.

“Is he serious? A civil war with Artaxerxes?” he asked, doing his best to keep a straight face.

Xenophon nodded.

“It looks that way. I hope Clearchus realises how long this could take. The Median Empire is over a thousand worlds that are spread out in the known galaxy. If he wants the Emperor, then we will have to travel to the capital to find him,” he explained.

The figure of Dukas Xenias vanished for a moment and then reappeared.

“The plan of Cyrus will require a journey of almost a month. It will travel through the barren wastelands of the Su’bartu Maelstrom; a place so dangerous only one in three ships ever makes it through. At the Median side of the Maelstrom is the massive fortified Babylon Sector. The entire area is filled with bases, fortresses and factory worlds. As you all know, it is also the home of the Imperial Fleet. It will have to be captured, destroyed or bypassed just to clear a route to the capital and the Emperor. No ship can approach the Core Worlds until this area is neutralised in some way. Even if this works, the Legion will then have to face his personal fleet and ground forces. It is a suicide mission, and the Olympia will play no part.”

A low rumble started to shake the Titan. For anything to have that effect, it would have to have been substantial.

“FTL engines!” called out one of the junior officers.

With a low hum, the Titan shook even more and then everything settled again.

“This is our first jump on the return journey. All units will return to their allotted quarters and await orders. At our destination, a number of transports will be made available to take anybody that doesn’t wish to continue with this unit. Dukas Xenias, out.”

Xenophon stepped back from the display and watched a small number of the Night Blades moving away. He looked back to the rest of his friends, and each appeared to be waiting to hear what he had to say.

“Well, looks like we’re heading home, then.”

“What?” snapped back Glaucon, “No chance, you know what will happen if we set foot on Attica. We’re wanted men now, and both of us are implicated in the bombings in the capital.”

The speakers activated again, but this time without the video transmission. The voice wasn’t familiar, and the slight low level of compression in the signal suggested it was a pre-recorded loop of audio.

“Security update for all personnel. Under the terms of our treaty, we may not offer or contribute services to any enemy of the Empire. Any member of this ship’s crew attempting to leave for the Legion will be considered a traitor and thrown into the brig. Report to your stations and await further orders.”

Xenophon sighed.

“That’s just great, so now we’re stuck here.”

Tamara looked confused and reached out to grab his shoulder.

“Bombings? You never told me about that.”

“What?” replied Xenophon, confused by her question, but Roxana knew full well what she was referring to. Tamara was the most recent addition to their little group, and although they had worked together for some time, they didn’t have the bond of friendship that tied Roxana, Glaucon and Xenophon together. It wasn’t her fault. It was simply due to the fact that the three of them already knew each other from back home on Attica. She looked at Tamara and tried to calm her.

“It wasn’t them, of course it wasn’t,” she explained.

Tamara frowned at her comments, evidently not pacified.

“Then why are they outlaws?”

Roxana looked to Xenophon who nodded an unspoken agreement to let her explain what had happened to them back on Attica. It was a sad tale, and one that none of them liked to discuss.

“Xenophon’s father was murdered in the coup after the occupation forces left. He lost everything, including his home, money and possessions. Since the coup, there has been a massive clampdown on anybody that opposes the new democracy.”

Glaucon laughed at her use of the word democracy. She waited for him to stop before continuing.

“Lots of citizens have been added to the lists, and apparently, a large number have been executed for treason.”