Black Legion: 05 - Sea of Fire (24 page)

Komes Artemis and his squad were pinned down, but nothing, not even the massed fire coming in from the enemy would stop them from fighting. As each projectile struck nearby, one of them quickly responded with a burst from their own carbines.

“Step!”

Komes Artemis tried to move out from cover, but a fusillade of fire crashed down near them. Two rounds struck the top of his shield, and one of the projectiles was deflected just enough to skin the top of his helm. He laughed, took aim, and then blasted at the shapes of the mercenaries in the distance.

“Stand your ground.”

He tried to hold the current position, but more of the shots hit the shielding like rain, and he was forced to give ground. Systematically, they shifted back into cover, and then the Komes ducked back, and two of his men pushed out their left arms to protect him in a layered shield.

“Sir, look.”

The junior pentarchos pointed far off to his left. There were a number of loading units, wheeled cargo haulers, and crates of abandoned spare parts. Right out behind them was a series of loading cranes and a light rail transport system. It was to this that he indicated.

“Can you see them?”

Komes Artemis strained to see them, but another volley struck nearby, and this time a hardened spike of metal slid through and struck the wall just a few centimeters from his face. He ducked down and looked to his comrade.

“What did you see?”

“More soldiers, they looked like Laconians.”

The Komes shook his head and then activated his communications system. He looked to his pentarchos and shook his head.

“We have comms for a reason.”

He spoke quietly and only for a few seconds before looking back at his men.

“It looks like we’re not alone in this. We have friends. There might be a chance for victory in all of this, after all.”

The pentarchos looked off into the distance, and his eyes locked down on the shape of one of the other soldiers nodding toward him. Something hit his head, and he looked back to find the Komes staring right back at him, the back of his fist raised where he had just struck his helm.

“Keep in the fight. This isn’t over yet.”

That was the exact moment when the heavily armored form of a Taochi warrior came out from cover and pointed directly at them. Komes Artemis took aim and blasted him with his carbine. Projectiles struck and bounced from the armor.

“Hold them back! Use everything you’ve got!”

* * *

The light rail system was something of a misnomer, as it was neither light nor a railway. In actuality, it was an automated motorized system. The single track covered just the length of the vast open space, and it seemed designed to be more of a convenient method for moving materials around the site. There were no cars and devices to drive, just the flatbed storage bins and wagons to load goods, parts, and equipment onto. The metalwork was heavily worn in places, and signs and non-functioning displays littered the place. A few days ago, this might have been a hive of commercial activity; now it was a battlefield, nothing more and nothing less.

A stray round flitted overhead, and Glaucon and Roxana dropped down low. It clattered about before vanishing off somewhere in the shadows. As Glaucon lifted himself up, he caught his pulse cannon on a set of cogs, and the weapon spun about to smack the stock against the circular metal. The loud clang seemed to echo throughout the entire facility as loud as the gun firing itself.

“Damn it!”

He dropped down again and pulled the weapon close. It appeared undamaged, but Tamara seemed more concerned with them being spotted. They waited there for a few more seconds, just in case. This time Tamara rose first and looked back at him to make sure it didn’t happen again.

“Really?” Glaucon grumbled.

She gave him the widest of grins and then she was off. Glaucon lifted his weapon as carefully as he could. They clambered over metal barriers and thick electrical cables as they moved further from their comrades. Another pair of shots struck overhead, but by now it was clear these projectiles were nothing more than stray rounds. They reached as far as they could go along the trench and then stopped. The single tracks pushed up against them, and both felt exposed this far away from their comrades. If the enemy mercenaries assaulted, they would be cut off and knew they would have little chance on their own.

“You ready?” Glaucon asked.

Roxana looked down to her rifle and checked it for what felt like the hundredth time. Once satisfied, she looked back to him. The determination, almost zeal on her face was enough to even encourage the usually pessimistic Glaucon.

“Good, because we’ll only get a few shots, maybe one each.”

He lifted his pulse cannon onto the ledge of the trench, flicked off the safety, and then nodded to her.

“Check it.”

Tamara lifted herself the minimum distance to look over the edge. She was there for a brief moment and then dropped back down silently. Glaucon half expected a volley of gunfire to strike where she had just been, but there was nothing.

“They are still there, but if we want to hit the gun, we need to climb out of this trench and go at least fifty meters ahead. The shielding is still protecting it from here.”

Glaucon knew and trusted her assessment, and so tapped his communications earpiece built into his helmet. He’d avoided using it as much as possible, knowing only too well that communications could be tracked, targeted, and identified. The Laconian answered with a simple, gruff reply.

“Yes?”

Glaucon breathed more easily at hearing the calm, confident sound of the spatharios.

“We’re in position.”

“Good.”

Glaucon shook his head.

“No, it isn’t. We cannot get a bead on the gun from here. We need to get out into the open, but for that I will need a distraction.”

“Affirmative. I will give you ten seconds, be ready.”

Glaucon tensed himself and then waited. He expected a few shots, but the Laconians clearly had other things in mind. A great ripple of carbine fire announced that all of them were shooting, and not one was sparing the ammunition. The loud growl from the shielded gun platform easily drowned out the others, and one Laconian went down with a hole the size of a fist in his chest. The weapon had finally penetrated the shielding and easily tore through his armor. Tamara looked to Glaucon and then indicated toward the mercenaries.

“Ready?”

He nodded.

“Let’s go.”

Their movement forward was careful, not some grand assault. Each step was planned to be quick, smooth, and cautious. They both stopped at least twice, relying upon the basic principle of advanced species following their evolutionary heritage to look for movement. The Medes, Carduchians, and Terrans had all evolved on a similar path, with each becoming the top predator in their own spheres. Though some were larger or stronger, they all relied upon spotting changes, and a fast moving Terran was always easy to spot. Glaucon saw one of the soldiers begin moving toward them.

“Down!”

Tamara dropped to one knee without hesitation. She was small and fast, hitting the ground so quickly it looked like she’d fallen. Tamara lifted her Doru Mk II rifle to her shoulder and took aim. It was a long practiced procedure, something she’d done hundreds, perhaps thousands of times. The long weapon was designed for long-range work and fired armor piercing, high explosive pulse rounds at incredibly high velocities. Atop the synthetic body was a customized sight, with an integral rangefinder and targeting array.

“They are in sight.”

Glaucon lay down low on the floor, making as much use of the lower profile to protect him. The flank to the mercenaries was out in the open, and once they joined the battle, they would certainly come under intense fire. His more powerful weapon was capable of putting down considerable sustained fire, but it was the first shot here that counted. Striking the frontal shield of the weapons platform would serve no purpose, and would be more likely to draw their ire. The gunfire between the two sides was still considerable, but the Laconians were staying put and making a grand show of things.

“Drop them!”

Tamara nodded and then checked one last time. She had a bewildering number of targets, from the gunner through to the gun assembly itself. Something told her to disable the gun, but she was also well aware that it might take a dozen well placed shots to accomplish that.

Kill the man and you kill the weapons...for a time.

She remembered the maxim that she’d heard before from some of the Terran junior commanders. On this particular occasion, it was clear why they thought this. There were other targets, of course. One mercenary carried a large, shoulder mounted gun system, and another a Gatling gun at his waist. But there was nothing approaching the firepower of the gun platform. From where Tamara was positioned, it looked like a tripod mounted anti-aircraft system with inbuilt shields. Again it fired, and the blast of energy saturated the Laconians.

Yes, the gunner first.

A gentle squeeze was all it took, and the gun kicked into her shoulder. The high-velocity slug penetrated the side of the soldier’s helmet and crashed through his temple. That was no cry or groan, just a spinning figure that slumped to the ground. Immediately, the gun mount stopped firing and was replaced by a series of shouts.

“Good work,” said Glaucon.

He took aim and pulled the trigger on his pulse cannon. It shuddered as he released a dozen rounds into the mercenaries around the gun mount. His rounds struck just a moment after Tamara’s precision shot. Although Glaucon only hit one of them, the rest of his fire confused them. That was the perfect opportunity for the Laconians, and they were already on their feet. As he fired another burst, he could see two of the mercenaries were turning to escape.

“Tamara, look to...”

“I see them.”

Two thuds marked her shooting, and two more of the enemy went down.

“Move in.”

The two rose to their feet and moved at a fast walking pace. Every ten steps one of them would stop, take aim, and then fire. The next would move past and do the same. This way they covered the ground to the flank of the battle while ensuring that one of them was always covering the other. Eventually, they were within a hundred meters of the last stage of the battle. Both groups of Laconians had moved together and presented a loose phalanx, with layered shielding and their carbines ready to stab or shoot.

“Follow me,” said Glaucon.

He went further to the left and took cover behind a tipped over wheeled loader. The yellow vehicle was damaged but not from the battle. It was either from neglect, or more likely from sabotage prior to the Carduchians abandoning the place before their arrival.

“What now?” Tamara asked.

Her long red hair flowed behind her as she leapt up onto the side of the overturned vehicle and then rested her rifle on the edge. She took careful aim, but this round bounced off the chest plate of the mercenary she had aimed at. There were now just five left, and each moved back into position around the Taochi warrior.

“Look.”

Glaucon pointed to the right. The Laconians were advancing a pace at a time and in complete silence. With each step, they fired a double volley from their carbines and then kept on. Every single return shot bounced off their shielding. Two of the mercenaries shouted something and then ran away from their group and toward Glaucon and Tamara. At first it looked like an attack, but it soon became clear they’d not noticed the two far off to their side. They approached the flank of the Laconians, ready to shoot at them behind their protective shielding.

“Drop them!”

Glaucon and Tamara put a dozen rounds into them, and neither even knew what had hit them as they fell. Now just three mercenaries remained, and to a man they threw their weapons down and lifted their hands in surrender. Only the Taochi warrior refused. Instead of dropping his weapons he pulled out a pair of long curved blades, howled, and then ran toward the Laconians.

* * *

Lady Artemas had slipped to the ground, but even as she lay there, she kept both of her hands pushed firmly against her wounds. Around her a dark pattern marked where a small but growing pool of blood had gathered. She groaned and then forced herself to silence. She could see Glaucon and the others in front of her, but as she shook her eyes open, they vanished, to be replaced by nothing.

What’s happening?

She must have lost consciousness or simply drifted off, in any case there was no sign of her friends. Not even the Laconians were in sight. She moved her hand to the ground and pushed into the thin layer of blood.

Great.

Something passed her, a blurred shape of a creature, perhaps a man. She reached to her side and found the pistol still waiting in its holster. It was a Terran weapon, a gift from Xenophon. He’d explained it could become some kind of an heirloom, given time. It was made from the parts of more than a dozen different weapons, and he’d spent several days getting the thing assembled and tested.

“Lady Artemas, come with us.”

The voice was firm and clearly Terran. She opened her eyes and tried to focus, but her vision continued to blur in and out. The shape came nearer, and then she could make out the Laconian armor.