Black Legion: 02 - Assault on Khorram (31 page)

Xenophon heard movement and twisted around only to see the arrival of Dekarchos Julius and a dozen of his heavily armoured spatharii. He ran passed the fallen warriors and to the door where the Dukas was still stood.

“Julius, you are not needed here. The Dekarchos has done his job,” he stated and turned back to where the rest of the crew were still running the ship.

Of the fallen warriors, all but three lifted themselves from the floor. Even Roxana appeared unharmed, the heavy spatharii armour having absorbed all but the smallest amount of thermal energy.

“You’re unhurt?” asked an almost tearful Tamara.

Roxana smiled grimly.

“I wouldn’t say unhurt, but I’ll live.”

Julius helped the wounded to their feet and moved over to Xenophon.

“Good work there. We’ve sealed the breaches, and we’ve got fighter cover now. Leave two men with the Dukas, and meet me down on the deck with anyone that can fight. I’ll explain when you get there.”

Strategos Clearchus watched with a tingle of dread as the frontline of the Terran fleet became completely enveloped by the Medes. The battle had now turned from a tactical game of cat and mouse to a massive brawl. Cruisers and battleships closed to use their most powerful weapons, and scores of hulks drifted uncontrollably throughout Khorram. The battle had now been raging for ninety minutes, and casualties on both sides were starting to mount up. Even so, with the confusion in the battle, not one Terran ship had moved any closer to the station or shipyards. Tactical Officer Jeane Coxand shook her head as another Terran destroyer was ripped apart by a heavy volley of laser cutters from the Medes flagship.

“Strategos, we’ve lost almost twenty destroyers so far, and over half of them are down to their flagship.”

Clearchus nodded. He was acutely aware of the danger posed by the flagship. He was also perfectly aware of the number of heavy Elamite battleships stationed around it. It represented the heart and core of the entire enemy force and would be a very tough nut to crack; the amount of red being shown on his tactical map was becoming a little disconcerting.

“What are the losses so far?” he asked, almost dreading to hear the words.

“Two battleships, one battlecruiser, two heavy cruisers and seventeen destroyers have been lost or are out of action. Twenty-three ships from our total of one hundred and one ships, Strategos. The damaged ships are falling back to the transports to assist in their defence.”

Twenty-three ships!
The figure struck him like a knife to the heart. Even the smallest of those vessels carried crew in their hundreds. For a brief moment, he considered withdrawing the fleet, but he knew those numbers were not entirely accurate.

“What about our friend Ariaeus?”

Tactical Officer Coxand was fast, it took less than five seconds for her to bring up the full details for his forces.

“Slightly heavier for him, a quarter of his ships have been crippled so far, but he is holding the flank. His reserves have arrived from their foraging operation and that is rebuilding his fleet.”

About damned time!

Ariaeus actually commanded a fleet of nearly two hundred ships, but many had disappeared during the fighting at Aronton. Ariaeus had assured him they were away gathering more troops and supplies, but he was a Medes noble, and that meant he could not be trusted.

“Get him to move in his additional forces to put pressure on the left. I don’t want him to pursue, just overwhelm their line so that they are forced to put in all their reserves.”

She nodded and turned to her screen to pass on the information and orders. Clearchus returned to his small group of advisors as well as the very agitated looking Cyrus.

“Well, are we winning?” he asked impatiently.

“Winning? Well, we are progressing. War is no quick thing, as you know. I could try and rush this, but we have a plan, and it must be carried through.”

Cyrus shook his head in irritation.

“Perhaps you might share this plan?” he asked, almost pleading with his face.

Clearchus smiled back.

“No, the plan is not to be shared. You pay me to run this battle, and run it I will.”

“But the Legion is taking casualties in this attritional battle. At this rate, even if we win, we’ll be left with a shadow of a fleet.”

“Perhaps, you’ll leave that to me, yes?” replied Clearchus in a stern tone that surprised Cyrus.

Kentarchos Broge Monsimm shouted to the officers on the deck as the mighty Titan finished a long series of manoeuvres that brought her face to face with the first defensive line in the middle of the Median fleet. It contained eight Elamite battleships, the second largest ships in the Medes arsenal and more than a match for even a Terran battleship. Clearchus watched with pleasure as dozens of high power laser cutters burned into the enemy ships. Each impact cut chunks of armour and superstructure from the huge vessels. Terran destroyers and battleships swarmed around them and thousands of plasma cannon projectiles and railguns battered away.

It almost looks beautiful,
he thought.

The image of Kleandridas appeared from aboard his personal battleship. Both of his deputies were currently on their own warships. It allowed him to split the risk if one of the senior commanders was killed and also allowed them to exercise individual control and judgement over their parts of the battle.

“Strategos, I have sustained minor losses and have withdrawn the damaged ships as requested.”

Clearchus nodded at the news.

“Good work, so it looks as though our frontline is starting to crumble under the weight of their numbers. How much longer do you think until it is time?”

“I received information from our scout destroyers. They have picked up signals three parsecs away, and there are more ships coming, but they cannot say how many.”

“I see. Keep fighting, when they are fully engaged we will start phase three. We cannot begin until I know all of their forces are fully committed. Perhaps release another battleship from the line, and really let them feel we are breaking.”

Kleandridas nodded and moved from the display to continue his efforts. Clearchus had only spoken with his deputies and the other Dukas present about his plan. He would not chance sharing the information with the Medes, not even Cyrus himself. It was a risky strategy he had no doubt, but they were behind enemy lines and certainly outnumbered. He had to have the enemy pinned before he could deliver his mortal blow. One thing he knew about Medes fleets was that they could melt away at any sign of danger. Cyrus would have had him charge headlong into a short, bloody battle. He needed to let Artaxerxes feel he could win. It was a battle of ego and wits as much as it was about warships and skill.

Indicators on the screen showed the arrival of the rest of Ariaeus’ forces. As ordered, they were moving in to reinforce the left flank. Not far behind were the mixed Medes and Terran transports, along with a sizeable number of damaged Terran warships. He smiled at the thought of those ships waiting patiently behind Ariaeus.

A perfect incentive to not stab me in the back.

He looked back to the efficient crew of Valediction. The commander of the ship and his executive officer were continually engaged with their crew. Weapons and shields were being well managed, and the tactical officer was keeping a tight pattern of air defence fighters around them. He felt safe, but more than anything he wanted to get involved. He reached down and grasped the hilt of his kopis sword, imagining the final phase of the battle. It sent a surge of excitement through his veins.

“Strategos, Medes reinforcements, another sixty-three ships, all heading for the centre of the line! They will be in position in less than a minute,” cried Kybernetes Ditha Artell.

Good, about time!

“Put me through to the fleet,” ordered Clearchus. “It is time to start phase three.”

Cyrus looked at him and prayed that whatever this phase was all about, it would mark the end of the bloody affair, once and for all. Clearchus looked about at the people around him and nodded with a look of pride and satisfaction on his face.

“Men and women of the Legion, you have fought long and you have fought hard in this battle. It has now come for that time, the high watermark that will define this day. It is my intention that in the next thirty minutes we will see the defeat of this fleet, so at your posts, and fight harder than you’ve ever fought before. With the death of the Emperor, comes fame, fortune and the retirement you could only dream of!”

He paused for a few seconds before adding, “To victory!”

* * *

Xenophon and his friends waited along with nearly sixty other warriors in the landing area. This part of Vendetta had been cleared in the last thirty minutes to give enough space for the warriors to assemble. Half of them were fully armoured, and the rest were equipped with whatever they had been able to find. At another three points on the ship, the other groups of warriors were doing exactly the same. Dekarchos Julius spotted his arrival and marched over, grasping Xenophon and pulling him close.

“Good work, my friend. I’m sorry so many made it through, but they were able to create three breaches before we could hold them back.”

He stepped back and shook the hands of Glaucon, Tamara and Roxana but just looked at Artemas, still unsure exactly how to deal with her. Glaucon checked the magazine on the pulse-cannon he was still carrying and then spoke firmly.

“Why are we all waiting down here? Are we boarding one of the stations?” he asked.

Julius simply smiled but said nothing. Their attention was already diverted to the arrival of the Dukas and a dozen more heavily armoured spatharii. As he entered the landing bay, a volley of projectile slammed into the shielding. The sound rattled through the innards of the ship, but there appeared to be no obvious damage. The Dukas lifted his carbine high and grinned at the assembled men and women.

“I have just received word from the Strategos. The third and final phase of this bloody battle has begun. You may not be aware, but our forces have been guarding the right flank in the reserve line. We have been joined by all the remaining heavy and light cruisers, as well as Titan Herakles, and are withdrawing from the battle.”

A great cry of discontent and bitterness erupted, and for the briefest of moments it looked as though the warriors would revolt on the spot. Xenias lifted his carbine once more to get their attention.

“You know the Strategos better than that. You know me better than that. Do you think you would all be waiting here in full battle attire if we were going to just withdraw?”

“We are not abandoning Clearchus and the Legion?” asked a young red-haired woman. She wore just the body armour of the spatharii and was scarred down the left side of her face. She carried on her shoulder a tired looking Arcadian Doru Mk II Rifle, presumably a weapon taken during the evacuation of the Olympia.

The Dukas looked down to her and nodded.

“Pentarchos Hughes, is it not?”

The woman nodded reverently, evidently pleased at being recognised.

“Your unit defended against the first wave of Medes troops on Olympia, if I am not mistaken? How many of you made it off the Titan?”

The Pentarchos looked crestfallen at the reminder of the defeat on the Olympia. Only the sound of plasma charges burning into one of the upper decks seemed to snap her out of her morass. She looked back to the Dukas and noticed almost every other warrior in the room was watching her.

“Just me, Sir, the rest were killed during the retreat.”

Dukas Xenias nodded solemnly, and the rest of the warriors stayed silent at the comments. It wasn’t so much her individual loss; it was a reminder to all of them of how many had been left behind during the betrayal of Tissaphernes. He lifted his carbine for the last time.

“You will have your revenge, all of you. The smallest of the cruisers have a special operation to carry out in this stage of the battle. As I’m sure most of you will know, the shields of the Medes, in fact the shields of all capital ships are designed to respond to ultra high velocity or high thermal energy weapons. The more powerful the weapon, the better the shielding works, providing the generators can keep up. This is why we use continuous shield bombardment to overload the generators. The Medes flagship, known to us as the Rashnu, is out there, just four kilometres away now, and her shielding is even thicker than that of our Titians. The only way through is to not use excessive energy, but to close in and board her.”