Black Legion: 02 - Assault on Khorram (9 page)

“Well, it’s pretty simple Strategos, it isn’t there anymore. Spectral scans indicate the star went supernova three years ago. The three gas giants were obliterated.”

He stretched out his arms and pointed at the view around them of dust and debris.

“This is it, no gas giants and no fuel for the fleet.”

Clearchus took the small tablet-like device and examined the data himself. The images and scans were clear, as were the Artis routes on the navigation plan they had set out.

“This is correct?”

His deputy nodded but said nothing more. Kleandridas was correct, of course, but with such a significant problem, the Strategos needed to see the numbers for himself. They were stood on the command deck, the heart of the Titan and of the fleet. It was wide and large enough to house a hundred officers. Many of them were scanning everything within a parsec for raw materials the fleet could use. Banks of displays ran in columns, each attached to the ribbed inner skin of the ship. The light from the displays gave a bright shimmer to the command deck that was unlike any other part of the ship. It was the large-scale virtual observation system that really stood out. The entire inner surface of the deck was controlled at a molecular level to give it the characteristics of a flawless three-dimensional video display. Standing on the deck was like flying through space, and with the full ability to see outside of the ship, past the armour and into space itself.

“I never wanted to take these routes, but if we travel around the Maelstrom, we’ll be forced to extend our journey by four or five times.”

Kleandridas nodded in agreement and pointed to the starmap on the device.

“We’d also have to extend our time travelling through the border systems. The more time we spend there, the better chance the enemy will have of finding us and establishing our intent. We have to arrive in the Core Systems with the element of surprise on our side.”

He moved the display on the device to show a map of the main star systems. The Core Worlds were a great cluster of hundreds of star systems that themselves contained scores of populated worlds. He enlarged the view so that it focused down on the capital planet and star systems within a short distance.

“We need to arrive here and in force. Even with our combined Median and Terran fleet, we could still find double or even triple the enemy numbers upon our arrival.”

Clearchus looked surprised.

“You don’t think they already know we are coming? Artaxerxes is no fool. Don’t forget the information we have on him in our databanks. Cyrus was his mother’s favourite to become Emperor, and still he ended up exiled and thrown to the borders.”

Kleandridas nodded slowly in agreement. The information he had seen concerning Cyrus, the rest of his family and the constant intrigue between them, quite frankly irked him. It wasn’t as though the Arcadians were perfect, but this level of interfamilial bickering and bloodletting left him feeling sick inside. He shook his head and looked back to Clearchus.

“Well, only Tissaphernes knows we have travelled passed his territories, but he knows nothing of our mission. Neither Artaxerxes or any of the other satraps even know we passed the Cilician Gates.”

He stepped towards the nearest computer system and displayed the area of space between the Cilician Gates and the heart of the Median Empire. It was a fast gulf of more than a kiloparsec; an absolutely massive distance that would require over a hundred jumps. He pointed at each of the major Median starbases and naval commands, and a green line followed his finger as it snaked through the Empire. The route carefully avoided the major Median sites until making it to the edge of the Core Worlds.

“Surely, if we are careful and avoid any major Median settlements, we can make it through to the outlying worlds. At least this way, Artaxerxes won’t be able to call in his border commanders in time to help his fleet.”

“That is true, but with nearly Ten Thousand mercenaries, and double that number of Medes under Ariaeus, we have a lot of eyes and a great deal of mouths in this fleet. I can guarantee that at least one has talked already. If they’ve talked, Artaxerxes will already know.”

Kleandridas scratched his cheek as he considered the comments by Clearchus.

“If he knows, then he will be calling in his major warships and assembling his Royal ground forces. He has to strike hard and fast before they can mobilise.”

Clearchus nodded again in complete agreement.

“Yes, I have no doubt about the skill and expertise of our own forces, but even Terrans can only kill so many. We do not want to end up trapped in hostile territory with just our fleet to protect us. It will be a long and dangerous return journey if we are unable to achieve our objectives.”

He thought of the Medes representatives he had encountered so far on this campaign. Lord Cyrus appeared honourable, and more importantly, had treated the officers and men of the mission with respect. He had kept the target secret, but that secretive trait was one common with all the Medes he had met. Tissaphernes was a plotter and a schemer. He had no doubts the man would turn on his own family if it might better his position. Then there was Ariaeus, the next most significant figure and a man with the ear of Cyrus himself. Even Clearchus had seen very little of this powerful and shadowy figure.

 
“What do we know of Ariaeus? Lord Cyrus says he is his most trusted assistant, but does that mean we can trust him on this operation? My files show he has a long and colourful career, including quite a few entanglements with at least a dozen Terran colonies.”

Kleandridas brought up a detailed profile of Ariaeus, the second most senior Median commander in the Legion. Clearchus had only met him a few times, and the dislike they had for each other was obvious and unguarded. He snarled at the face, remembering the last time they had spoken. Clearchus watched him and remembered that his deputy and close friend had a painful secret; one only Clearchus and a few other high-ranking Arcadians knew of. He sighed, angry at himself for forgetting.

“I’m sorry, your family has had dealing with some of Ariaeus’ people. I know it can’t be easy for you to work with him or his force,” he said, doing his best to be as sensitive about the issue as he could.

It was true and a cause of great resentment to the high-ranking Terran officer. An infiltration team under the orders of Ariaeus had managed to start a revolution on one of the smaller Plataean moons, two decades earlier. It seems it was part of a plan to try and wrest the minor colonies of the smaller Terran factions away from the Laconian League, upon whom they were dependent. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, and it wouldn’t be the last. The Terrans were notorious for their infighting and mistrust of each other, and a weakness that was often exploited by enemies such as the Medes. The Mining Revolution, as it was known, had personal significance to Kleandridas, however. The Medes agents helped instigate a workers’ strike that quickly turned violent. Many citizens and workers had been killed while fighting government forces and atrocities had been committed on both sides. When the fighting was over, over nine hundred people had lost their lives, including both of Kleandridas’ parents. The involvement of Ariaeus was only found out years later.

“Strategos, I have Topoteretes Pleistoanax on the link. He wishes to speak with you,” said the ship’s auletes.

Strategos Clearchus smiled at the news. Pleistoanax was one of the few commanders in the fleet that he knew could be counted upon to come through when times were tough.

“Excellent, put it up on my screen,” he replied.

The video feed appeared instantly from the scout cruiser being commanded by the second topoteretes. The face of the man appeared, but his expression suggested bad news. From the angle of the feed, it was difficult to see what was going on inside the cruiser. He couldn’t see the red glow of emergency lighting though, and there were no signs of battle or distress in the crew.

“Topoteretes, I assume by your expression you don’t have good news for me?”

There was a short pause, but it wasn’t clear if that was due to the distance, or simply down to the commander considering his response. Like Clearchus and Kleandridas, he wore his Laconian regalia, including full body armour and crimson cloak.

“No, Strategos, my scout group has performed a full scan of the area, and we can confirm the lack of resources due to the destruction of the planets. With most of the fleet down to less than half tanks, we need more before continuing much further into Median space. The next point is fifteen parsecs away, but there are no guarantees we will be able to refuel there, and that is a problem, a big problem.”

Clearchus looked confused at his last statement. Their route followed the standard Artis routes, and each point should be between five and fifteen parsecs away. They should be able to make at least one more, perhaps two more jumps with the remaining fuel.

“I don’t understand, why not?”

“The next location was being used as a stopover point for Median transports two years ago. There is a possibility that it is being used as a base of operations. The only other options are to expend all of our fuel in a single jump to one other sector. My estimates show that only half the ships in the fleet can make a jump of that distance. We’ll have to leave the rest behind and risk the remainder in one movement.”

“That isn’t acceptable. I must have the full fleet and all the Legion if this plan is to succeed. The jump to the site with a possible base is our only way forward. But if we are discovered this early on, we will have problems. We will never have the element of surprise when we reach the Core Worlds and could end up facing an insurmountable enemy force.”

“It’s worse than that.”

Clearchus sighed, bracing himself for whatever was coming next.

“Explain?”

“If we jump in and find the site contested, we will have enough fuel for a single short jump. We could make it back here, but for what? With this system lost, we will be unable to jump back any further and will be trapped, adrift in the wake of a destroyed star. Some of the ships could probably make it one further jump back, but we’d be strung out with some ships trapped here and around the dead star. It is a very big risk.”

Kleandridas tapped the large screen next to him and the commander. It was semi-transparent and almost three metres wide. It changed to show the immediate area around the fleet and the three projected routes they could take. One returned to the previous sector and two moved ahead. A symbol at the closest destination showed the potential position of the Median transit point. He pointed at the transit point.

“If there is no fuel, or we are forced to withdraw, we will end up trapped right here. We could always fight our way out, though?” he added.

Clearchus liked the idea of being able to fight their way through, but memories of the gruelling fight at the Cilician Gates returned. It should have been a simple operation and instead tied up most of the forces from an entire Titan. If they lost ships or warriors out here, they would have no way of replacing their losses; whereas the Medes numbers were unlimited. He looked back to the video feed where Pleistoanax waited patiently.

“Go on.”

“Yes, Strategos, assuming we can refuel at the next point, my staff have calculated three routes in case of future problems. We will have options that will allow us to work around such problems. For the duration of the journey, there will be only three more choke points that could be a problem. We can work around those when the time comes.”

“I see,” replied Clearchus. He considered but only for a few seconds. They could either go back and suffer no ill consequences, or push ahead with all the risks that entailed.

Kleandridas looked at the starmap before giving his opinion.

“If we turn back now, we could face mutiny. This Legion was assembled for the purpose of riches and adventure. If we return empty handed, our forces will have suffered a great humiliation.”

Clearchus nodded slowly, in partial agreement with him.

“True, I don’t like it either. But there is no glory in running out of fuel and being forced to stay in hostile territory. This is a fleet of warriors, not traders. I have a suggestion, however.”

Both of his deputies waited for his idea but thought they knew what he would offer them. If they were going to continue on this path, they would have to send something or somebody ahead to scout the lay of the land. Clearchus cleared his throat and started.

“We send a single ship, one with a skeleton crew of volunteers. They will jump ahead of the fleet and signal back the status of the location and availability of fuel. If clear, we will jump in, resupply the fleet and then select a new, more cautious route across the Maelstrom.”