Black Legion: 04 - Last Stand

BLACK LEGION: LAST STAND

By Michael G. Thomas

PART of the
BLACK LEGION SAGA

Copyright © 2013 Michael G. Thomas

Published by Swordworks Books

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
 
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

This is the fourth book in my ongoing Black Legion series and continues the story where we left it, right after the Battle of Cunaxa. This is based upon the actual historical battle of Cunaxa where the Ten Thousand prevailed, only to see Cyrus killed and their own leaders betrayed and murdered. Though many of the smaller details have changed, the basic details remains intact and will continue to do so until I have competed the tale of the Ten Thousand.

This series is very different to my previous work and combines my background in computing, ancient history, and European martial arts with one of my favourite works of literature, the great adventure of Xenophon and the Ten thousand mercenaries. I wanted to create a rich and exciting story inspired by the political machinations of Heinlein and the military plot of
The Anabasis
.

Although others have used ancient tales as the basis for some great science-fiction novels, and even the 1979 film ‘The Warriors’, I believe this is the first time the story has been simply transplanted into a fictional futuristic setting while retaining the original story in its entirety. I have retained the locations, races, and characters as much as possible while adding additional elements that I hope add to the story. You do not need to know the story of Xenophon, but if you do, then you are sure to enjoy the twists and turns that are inspired from the struggles of those tired and desperate Ten Thousand soldiers.

The original adventure was detailed by the Greek professional soldier and writer Xenophon himself in his great work titled
The Anabasis
. The story is one of the great adventures in human history and shows man at his best and worst. We meet strange people; and find new customs while watching the arguments and infighting amongst the Greeks themselves. I can truly recommend the original text, which is available freely in English translation. There are, of course, many changes to the main story, but I have endeavoured to stay as close to the original as possible and include many of the great events that took place. All the key players are there, including Xenophon, Clearchus, Tissaphernes, Artaxerxes, and of course, Cyrus.

There are many news words for the reader to get through, and I have added a handy glossary at the end of the book to help with the most common. The military terms and designations are a combination of Ancient Greek and Byzantine, and I have tried to avoid using our modern equivalents, such as generals, lieutenants, captains and platoons. I appreciate that many will not have come across the terms
strategos, dekarchos, dukas
or
spatharii,
but by the end you will be an expert, and I hope you find it helps immerse you into the story and the great adventure that was the
Anabasis
.

Terran Light Cruiser ‘Drakonis’, Core Worlds

Kentarchos Ezekiel Manus walked from left to right on his command deck for the fifth time in a row. The handful of crew did their best to ignore him, but his lack of humour was becoming more evident as time went on. Like all of the Legion, he was an experienced Terran officer with the scars to prove it. Even so, the constant beep of the computer systems and scanners kept them all on edge, including him. Try as they might want to relax, they had no choice but to remain vigilant. They were not waiting just outside the borders of the Cunaxa Sector for signs of the enemy. Drakonis was there, as well as two other scouts, providing a secure perimeter for the entire Black Legion. Between them they were watching the three main space lanes behind the fleet and there could not have been a more important role. The Kentarchos checked the ship’s clock and found it had changed by only a few minutes since the last time he’d looked at it.

Will this never end?
he thought.

The counter was the only thing that gave him respite, yet every glance merely reminded him of how much longer he would remain in such a dangerous place. They were well armed and equipped, but only to defend themselves against a modest foe. If a large capital ship could move in and disrupt his engines, he would be trapped and destroyed in a matter of minutes. All this did little to calm his nerves, and he resorted to checking the assessment reports that were updated every few minutes from the science and engineering stations. There was nothing of note, but at least it gave him something to think about. The rest of the crew did the same, all straining at their repetitive jobs through the stress of an immediate threat warning.

Auletes Pradonis, the ship’s communications officer, wiped sweat from his face. A mixture of the stress and the heat was causing him the greatest trouble. His eyes flickered, and for the briefest of moments they closed. He could have fallen asleep on his feet but something inside shook him, and he opened his eyes almost in a daze. One of the junior officers spotted him and lifted his lip slightly in acknowledgment of the shared fatigue they suffered. More information appeared on his system, and he transferred it up to the Kentarchos using just his hands in front of the display. He was one of the younger officers on the cruiser, yet his experience at Cunaxa had proven his worth, along with every other member of the vessel’s crew. Ezekiel Manus considered them to be some of the finest warriors he’d ever come across. He moved the last few steps to his commander and stopped.

“Kentarchos, reports are back in from the scouts. The latest sweep confirms no signs of the enemy and no sensory data from the drone unit.”

He looked at the information without showing as much as a glimmer of pleasure. The two scouts were only a few hundred kilometres away but far enough from the ship to escape the worst of its interference of their systems. The Seafox spacecraft were an aged design dating back almost seventy years. Although underpowered for a two-man craft, they did carry an impressive sensor package, as well as a single turret mounted twin-barrelled pulse cannon. He looked at the nearest with its odd double wing design and tiny engines. It was a craft from an earlier age, and he wondered how long it would last if it ever came to combat. There was no great rush to update the design, purely down to the fact that they were mere transports for electronic equipment.

“Good work, keep at it.”

He turned from the screen and moved a few paces back into the command deck while the auletes returned to his post. Like everything else about the rest of the ship, the command deck was more modern than Vendetta though lacked the niceties of a proper ship of the line. Cruisers and battleships were incredibly expensive assets and their construction could take many years, whereas this vessel was mass-produced to a basic specification. He missed the decrepit old ship he’d taken command of following the death of his Kentarchos. Vendetta might have been old, but in her day she’d been one of the prized warships of the fleet and had been refitted a hundred times.

Cunaxa.

The thought of that violent battle seemed like a story somebody else had told him now. Yes, he’d fought in skirmishes and border battles all his life. He’d seen officers die and ships explode while he had emerged every time completely unscathed. Every battle prior to Cunaxa had been a minor skirmish or exercise in comparison, and although they had triumphed, they were now on the run and had left hundreds of their dead behind on that alien world.

Maybe we should have stayed and razed the city to the ground?

The battle around Cunaxa had left many of the Legion’s officers bitter and resentful. They’d left without booty, captives, or the knowledge that they had won a great victory. Instead of Cunaxa being the crowning achievement of the Black Legion, it was actually their mark of greatest failure. Many had argued for a last minute orbital bombardment. It would have required staying in orbit for another few hours, but the end result would have been the nuclear annihilation of the Citadel at Cunaxa. Manus had been one of those pushing for the bombardment, along with many of the other Kentarchoi. Against his better judgement, he had fallen in with the wishes of the lowly dekarchos from Attica who claimed to speak for Clearchus himself. After that, it had all changed for the Legion, and to his surprise the young man had been right.

What was his name? It was something like Xanthus, Xylon, no...it was longer.

He considered the problem for a few more seconds. The man had become something of a myth in the Legion, due to him having brought back the weapons of Clearchus. In the past, they had been nothing more than engraved and slightly modified Laconian weapons, but now they had become holy relics of a mighty warrior. Cut down and betrayed by the great enemy.

Xenophon, that was his name.

He recalled the imagery on the scout drones they had left behind to monitor Cunaxa. Within six hours of their withdrawal, an armada from the Robotic Domains had arrived, followed shortly by an entire wing of Elamites that quickly identified and then destroyed the drones.

If we’d stayed for vengeance, we would have all died.

What really stuck with him the most was Drakonis was nothing like the ancient Vendetta, but she had her charms, that he couldn’t deny. The Raptor class of light cruisers was used by a dozen different Terran worlds and were popular for many reasons, the most notable being the cheapness of construction and the relative long life of the vessels. According to rumour, there were over three hundred in service overall and more were being produced every month. Her engines were three times larger and more powerful than his previous ship while the hull was half the size. Her weapons were modest, and he doubted they would stand up to much more than one or two Medes cruisers if it came to it. Luckily, the shield generators were as modern and advanced as the engines.

It wasn’t the ship that was the problem for him though; it was his mission. He stopped and looked at the bank of video displays that showed feeds from all around the ship. It was a significantly cheaper and more basic version of the VOB system used on the larger capital ships and another reminder of what he had lost since abandoning Vendetta.

We must wait for nine hours before returning to the fleet, not a minute earlier.

He recalled his orders, as well as his promotion to Kentarchos, and grimaced at the thought of waiting here any longer. According to the clock, they had been there a little over eight hours, and already he felt as though he was suffocating inside her hull. There was always the lingering doubt in his mind that they would jump to the fleet’s coordinates, only to find them gone. Their fuel cells were only half-full and two jumps was their limit without access to a Legion replenishment ship. If an enemy patrol came across his ship, he’d have a matter of minutes to get away or risk the loss of everything.

So truly no pressure on me at all,
he mused.

The air conditioning system had failed three times in the last hour, and the oxygen scrubbers seemed incapable of cleaning the air sufficiently to stop him from coughing almost continually. The heat inside the vessel was stifling, and every extra minute aboard made him wonder if he was actually being punished for the damage and eventual loss of Vendetta.

What could I have done any differently, though?

It was a boring, almost soul-destroying mission, perhaps one of the most boring he’d ever had, but it was the tension that had proven nail biting. Sitting out there where the fleet had so recently been was incredibly stressful. Twenty hours ago the fleet had been assembled in all its glory as the last of the scouts had returned and the capital ships had begun preparations for the next jump. The numbers helped, but it was the three Titans that truly made every member of the Legion feel safe. No ship existed that could threaten a Terran Titan on its own.

Ezekiel Manus looked at the screen to his left where he’d marked on his log each time they’d performed a jump of fifteen parsecs; it was the standard distance travelled by Terran ships when in hostile territory, and the furthest they could safely travel without taking risks. With there being so many damaged ships in the fleet, they could not afford to take any chances. The loss of just one ship could mean the deaths of hundreds, perhaps thousands of Terrans. All ships in the fleet could make multiple jumps, but they were beginning to run low on fuel, and that was where he came in with his single light cruiser. The mission was disliked by all of his crew, but as a naval officer, he knew only too well how important it was.

Following the bittersweet victory at Cunaxa, the Legion had been making slow progress out of the Core Worlds and towards the less populated fringe territories. Though still deep inside the Median Empire, the further they made it from the Core Worlds, the further they would be from the Royal Army and Navy of the Emperor.

What’s that?

For a second Ezekiel Manus thought he was hearing things, but then he recognised the emergency alert sounding through the command deck. The pulsating sound should have alerted him immediately, yet after doing this same mission three times now, he found his mind and body stunned at the noise.

“Turn that damn thing off!” he snapped, barely coherent with such a dry mouth.

He licked his lip and coughed once more to clear his throat.

“What do we have?” he asked nervously.

“Seafox One reports a fluctuating signal coming from sector Alpha Three.”

Ezekiel Manus creased his forehead at that information.

“That’s near the third gas giant, isn’t it?”

The tactical officer nodded in agreement.

“Yes, Kentarchos. Sensor readings suggest something small is coming through, perhaps a frigate or civilian ship.”

Or a scout for their fleet.

“Battle stations! Bring the birds home.”

The pilots of the small reconnaissance craft didn’t wait around to see what was happening, and in just under two minutes, they were landing inside the compact hangars of the ship. The readings from sector Alpha Three had now doubled in strength, and it was clear to everybody on board Drakonis that they were facing a ship of some kind. Ezekiel Manus stared at the nearest screen that showed a magnified view of the region identified as being the source. He saw nothing, but the sensors suggested otherwise.

“What the hell is it?” he demanded, his nerves almost fraying at the delay.

The tactical officer shook his head.

“Kentarchos, I think it’s a Medes scout ship. The energy signature is a dampening field. They are trying to impede our scans.”

Ezekiel Manus clenched his fist and rested it under his chin. His orders were clear and simple. He watched this sector for signs of the enemy and returned at the first sight of them. Except that right now he had no idea what was out there other than the readings on his sensors.

“What are your orders?” asked the Kybernetes.

He pointed to the distorted sensor readings on the display.

“Move us in for a closer look.”

“Aye, Sir.”

Kybernetes Maxentius had been no more than a lowly dekarchos on the gundeck prior to Cunaxa. He was one of the many Terrans from the Ionian colonies out on the violent border between Terran and Medes space. They considered themselves to be superior to the other Terrans in both wealth and culture. Maxentius seemed to have neither though. His accent was rough and his manners even rougher. He was a head taller than Ezekiel Manus and completely bald. He walked back to his station and sent his orders to the various crew on the command deck. The ship rumbled slightly as the engines powered up, and then they were moving from their position.