Black Legion: 02 - Assault on Khorram (33 page)

“We can’t get any closer, Strategos,” said Kentarchos Broge Monsimm. “The battleships have set up a crossfire that will cripple any ship that moves nearer.”

“Even us?” he asked in surprise.

Kentarchos Monsimm nodded. Clearchus looked away and cursed quietly to himself. His plan all along had been to move their ships in such a way that he could trap and board the Emperor’s flagship. The Elamites had proven a tougher nut than expected, and now only nine hundred warriors had made it inside.

Is it enough?

* * *

Lady Artemas led the group, but she was closely guarded by Xenophon, Tamara, Roxana, Glaucon and Julius. It was already becoming clear she was the person with the most useful knowledge of this ship, plus an unerring ability to not be hit by the odd projectile that came their way. They made their way to the top of the tunnel, to find themselves in a small hallway filled with statues of monsters and heroes. It was very much like some of the temples back on Attica, and in other circumstances Xenophon would have loved to examine them in more detail. Artemas pointed ahead to a large black shape. It looked like a great door nearly ten metres tall and half as wide.

“Is this it?” asked Xenias.

He was answered by a familiar but unfriendly voice.

“Dukas Xenias, what are you doing here?” called out Proxenus of Boeotia.

Xenias turned to spot his old enemy approach, along with a large contingent of his lightly armed stratiotes. Not far behind was Kratez the Achaean with a similar number of spatharii. They were all Terrans, and in this battle all brothers, yet the hostility between the commanders was obvious.

“I’m here to finish this battle. Come with us, you might learn something!” he snapped back, much to the amusement of his small band of Arcadians. He looked back to the door, but then realised one of the Dukas was missing.

“Where is my friend, Sophaenetus the Arcadian?” he asked.

Proxenus approached and grasped Xenias’ forearm in the traditional Terran grip.

“He and his warriors are securing the lower levels. They are keeping the Medes busy, so we can finish this once and for all. Are you ready, brother?” he asked.

Xenias didn’t fail to note the irony in his voice, but at that moment he really was only interested in the mission. He looked back to the great door and to Artemas.

“Well, is he inside?” he asked.

“Him and his bodyguard,” she replied.

“Very well, how do we get in?”

Artemas simply smiled and stepped forward, placing the palm of her pale hand on the thick metal. As soon as she made contact, a great crunch and grinding sound rumbled through the space. She looked back to the surprised Terrans.

“It is a Median gate, and one that may only be opened by those of Royal blood.”

Xenias nodded in appreciation, now doubly glad he had brought her on the mission. The door lifted up slowly and with much noise until it revealed the opulent and brightly lit interior of the Emperor’s Royal quarters. In the centre of the room was a vast glowing orb, and inside that the shape of the Emperor himself. The three Dukas watched in awe of the majesty of the room, the shimmering gold objects that covered almost every surface; but more than anything, the shimmering orb in the centre. Xenias stepped forward, and the rest moved with him, a solid group of Terrans, and all with ill intent in their eyes. Roxana moved ahead and turned to face them.

“Wait, we cannot simply commit regicide!” she called out to them all.

The orb behind her, now only twenty metres away, flashed and pulsed. It then emitted a bright white light that almost blinded them all. As it faded, the shape of the Emperor was gone, only to be replaced by four of the mighty Taochi warriors. These were even larger and more majestic than the previous ones, with each in decorative gold armour and carrying massive razor sharp glaives. They roared in hatred and stormed forward towards the four Dukas and their assembled warriors. As they pushed ahead, another two dozen elite Anusiya warriors leapt from the darkness and into the group of Terrans. They were the elite Immortals, the personal guards of the Emperor and his best native troops.

“Stop him!” screamed Xenias in the direction of the orb as he was dragged to the ground by three of the Anusiyans.

Glaucon lowered his pulse cannon and blazed away, but it was too little, too late. The enemy were among them, and the battle degenerated into a bloody melee in the centre of the Royal quarters. Only Artemas, Xenophon and Tamara managed to extricate themselves, running to the right of the room where they could use the darkness near the tall columns for cover.

“Where did he go?” asked Xenophon.

“The light, it is how he communicates with the rest of the fleet. If he is not here, then he is leaving,” explained Artemas.

As they spoke, Tamara moved on further, sneaking through the shadows until she was past the orb. She turned back and shouted.

“There’s a chamber back here, come on!”

She ran off, leaving Xenophon and Artemas to give chase. As they moved, a group of five of the Anusiyans spotted them leaving and turned to pursue them. Two were cut down by Terran carbine fire, but three made it to the orb and out of sight of the main battle. The chamber was only a short distance away, and they moved inside cautiously, expecting a trap at any moment. Artemas spotted the movement first and jumped back in time to avoid a narrow blade thrust forward by more of the Anusiyans. Xenophon grabbed the nearest arm and yanked the warrior forward. Tamara dropped down low and stabbed her blade into its head before moving ahead and engaging the rest. Artemas followed closely, but Xenophon moved more slowly, ever aware they could be hit from behind. Almost on cue, the other three Anusiyans appeared directly in his sights. He gunned down the first two, but the third managed to beat his carbine aside and knocked him to the wall. As he spun around, he noticed the fleeting form of the Emperor in all his finery climbing inside what looked like a small armoured shuttle. A line of Anusiyans guarded it while Artemas and Tamara hacked and stabbed at them.

“Out of my way!” he snapped at the one still fighting him and kicked him in the lower leg. The Medes warrior howled and stabbed down with his own blade. Xenophon ducked to the side and punched the warrior hard, only to meet metal armour. The pain was excruciating but not enough to stop him stooping down and grabbing his now empty carbine. The warrior rushed at him, forgetting for a second that it was not just a carbine. It was a stand issue Laconian Asgeirr-Carbine. With a single swift uppercut, he stabbed through the Anusiyan’s throat and into the brain. He spun around and dragged himself up to help his friends, but there were simply too many of them. Then he heard a familiar voice.

“Get down!” came the gruff sound of Glaucon.

Xenophon didn’t even look, and he threw himself down to the floor. Tamara and Artemas saw him move and jumped aside in time for his old friend to open fire. The plasma-cannon were much too big for most Terrans to carry, yet Glaucon made it look like lightweight. As if in slow motion, he blasted away, each round burning fist-sized holes through the thin armour of the warriors. It was over quickly, and not one remained standing near the metal body of the shuttle.

“Thanks!” smiled Xenophon. He turned to look at the shuttle, but they were too late. It had already turned and was moving towards the circular door about twenty metres away. Glaucon lifted his weapon to shoot, but an alarm started around them.

“No!” screamed Artemas, hold onto something!”

Glaucon dropped his weapon and grabbed the nearest bulkhead. The others did the same, just in time for the door to blast open and expose the compartment to the cold, sterile environment of space. The shuttle rushed out of the ship and into space.

“Artemas shouted out something in her native tongue, and the outer door started to close. In what seemed like an age it finally shut, and the terrible whistling of the air escaping the ship stopped.

“We failed!” growled Xenophon, bitterly angry they had missed the Emperor by a matter of seconds.

The four stood and turned back to the small corridor that led inside the Royal Chamber. It was a short walk to where the orb stood, yet their victory felt hollow. Dukas Xenias and the others were already tearing the place apart, trying to find a sign of the hatred leader. Xenias spotted Xenophon and stopped, looking towards him but saying nothing.

“He’s escape, an armoured shuttle,” he explained angrily.

Xenias placed his head in his hands before tapping the node in his temple.

“Strategos Clearchus, he has escaped.”

* * *

Clearchus watched the battle from his vantage point while he waited for confirmation from the nearer vessels. It took sometime before the auletes of the Herakles contacted him.

“Strategos, we have him on our scanner, sector twelve alpha. He is heading for the jump beacon.”

Clearchus’ heart almost skipped a beat. Stood next to him was Cyrus, and his expression told him all he needed to know. The Emperor had to be stopped. He signalled for Auletes Juda Bellee to transfer his communication to every ship in the fleet.

“All ships are to target this vessel. It is the Emperor, I repeat, all other objectives rescinded. Destroy him!” he barked.

“Sir, new signal, ships are jumping in!” called the Auletes.

Clearchus looked at the tactical display, and the coloured shapes appearing around the Emperor’s shuttle. He shook his head in disbelief as they materialised.

“Imperial Corsairs, they are Menon’s ships, Sir!” said Tactical Officer Jeane Coxand.

He watched in frustration as the vessels swamped around him, and then the shuttle was gone. It was either swallowed up or destroyed by one of the ships.

“Where is he?” demanded Clearchus, but it was clear they were already too late.

“Incoming signal from the corsairs, Strategos.”

Cyrus stepped next to Clearchus, a look of anger and disappointment on his face.

“It will be him,” he said dispassionately.

Clearchus nodded in agreement.

“Put him on.”

The main screen changed from the tactical map to the insides of a lavish Medes warship. The form of Menon, supposedly killed on Aronton, stood in the centre while another approached. Cyrus nodded as his brother moved next to Menon and stared with his cold black eyes back at the Terrans.

“You attack me in my own lands, brother. For this betrayal you have started a war that will not end until every planet you call home is burnt to ashes, and your body is impaled at my Royal residence!” he roared and then the feed cut out.

Cyrus and Clearchus looked at each other, neither of them having anything more to say. It was a major blow, there was no denying it. With the Emperor gone, the battle was now pointless and any victory irrelevant. Those ships that were able to escape were already trying to jump while an even greater numbered signalled their intention to surrender. It was a victory but a hollow one.

Median Flagship Rashnu, Khorram shipyards

The battle for Khorram was over and the time for consolidation and recovery had begun. Hundreds of Medes crewmen were in the process of being escorted from their fallen ships, though a small number of them had elected to serve on board the ships of Ariaeus. It was the capture of the Rashnu that was the real prize, and over a hundred technicians and intelligence experts from the Legion were already stripping anything of note from her innards.

Xenophon and the other warriors that had helped secure her were busy moving the wounded warriors from both sides when the shapes of Strategos Clearchus, Lord Cyrus and their entourage of bodyguards arrived. Every Terran warrior stood smartly to attention as they marched past. As they reached the centre of the Royal Chamber, they moved to the glowing orb still pulsing in the centre of the room. Lord Cyrus stopped alongside it and looked inside as if he expected to find something. The rest of the guards spread out to the fringes of the room.

“What is it?” asked Clearchus.

Cyrus turned to him, his expression one of disappointment.

“It’s a command throne. From here you can visualise and control any ship or systems.”

Clearchus looked confused, so Cyrus stepped through the shimmering object and indicated for Clearchus to join him. He hesitated for a second before stepping forward. As he pushed inside, he noticed it felt like static electricity as he moved through the field. Once inside it was as if he was back on the Valediction, the interior of the orb showed the space outside the ship and the hundreds of ships that had taken part in the battle.