Black Legion: Gates of Cilicia Read online

  “There are definitely people up there. They must have heavy weapons to protect the tower from aerial attack or missiles,” said Xenophon.

  “Let’s see how they like this,” grumbled Glaucon.

  He grabbed a pulse rifle from one of the fallen stratiotes that littered the ground and checked the magazine. He lifted it and took careful aim. With a firm squeeze, he sent a round to the top of the tower. Xenophon watched through his helmet’s optics, but there was no obvious effect.

  “Nothing.”

  The rest of the Night Blades were now well entrenched in the ruins and all checking their weapons. The Mulacs were only a few hundred metres away, and the periodic artillery fire would soon change to that of close ranged firepower. Komes Pasion appeared in front of them all, his armour still looking surprisingly clean. Three of his bodyguards erected shield generators behind him to protect their leader from the odd pulse round that landed nearby.

  “Stratiotes, we need to shut this shield generator down. Clearchus will not risk sending more troops to assist us until he can break through. I need two squads to climb that peak and destroy the transmitter.”

  He pointed up to the low mountain and the structure just over halfway up.

  “It’s at least an eight hundred metre climb, but we have nothing that can reach it.”

  Jack lifted his hand. “I used to climb. I can make it!” he called out.

  Roxana placed her hand on his shoulder and pulled him closer.

  “What are you doing, you fool? That climb is a death trap. Nobody who goes up there is coming back.”

  Glaucon placed his hand on the youngster’s arm and nodded in agreement with Roxana.

  “Watch out!” shouted Tamara.

  Xenophon looked up and spotted a number of heavy projectiles coming from the mountaintops and down onto their positions. It was too late to move as they smashed into the Terran positions. Many were smashed to pieces by the impact, but even more were set alight by the burning fires they left behind.

  “She’s right, look at it. They are fortified and well prepared. We need aircraft to get up there.”

  Xenophon moved from cover and in front of his commander.

  “Komes, I think we should withdraw from this position. They have greater numbers and artillery on the high ground. Until we can silence those positions, we are sitting ducks.”

  The leader of the Night Blades nodded in agreement and turned to walk away when he spotted something behind them. Xenophon recognised his expression. It was the look of defeat, and of a man that had seen the inevitable. He climbed up next to the man and looked in the same direction.

  “Gods!” he exclaimed.

  From the hills and rocky outcrops about a kilometre away, a low-lying cloud had appeared. On closer inspection, it was actually made up of thousands of individuals.

  “Mulacs!” muttered the Komes.

  “They must have been in hiding underground. The radiation will have masked them when we landed,” shouted Xenophon.

  The Komes watched for only a few more seconds and turned to Xenophon and the rest of the Night Blades. More shells and rockets continued to explode around them as the bombardment continued. The hundreds of other Terran troops were still dragging anything they could find to create more cover. Two units had climbed the ruined walls and were setting up some of the captured Mulac heavy weapons. It was starting to look like a fortified outpost, right in the heart of the enemy camp.

  The hunters have become the hunted, Xenophon thought with little amusement.

  Komes Pasion spoke briefly on his communication unit as he discussed the situation with Dukas Xenias. It was short between them, and they made a quick, yet troublesome decision. He looked back to his stratiotes.

  “Look at them. They will be here soon, and that will leave us trapped. The base of the transmitter spire is only four hundred metres away. Once they are past it, we will be unable to reach the base. We will be surrounded, and we will die. Dukas Xenias will manage the defence. We have other work to do. You all know what has to be done!”

  He looked at the peak and nodded to himself, making up his mind.

  “We will climb. Night Blades, with me!” he cried.

  Without even checking to see what the rest did, he rushed forward and towards the base of the lower mountain. His bodyguards ran after him, along with Jack and a handful of the other stratiotes. Glaucon looked to Xenophon.

  “He’s right, you know. If we stay here, we’ll all be dead in a few hours. The only chance we have is to shut off that weapon so that Clearchus and the air support can come in. They’ll annihilate them.”

  * * *

  The Laconian flotilla spread out to avoid the ground fire around the Citadel. The energy field might prevent signals or electronics, but it did nothing to stop projectile weapons from firing through. One dromon took multiple impacts but continued flying, and a black smoke trail was the only sign it had been struck.

  “What the hell is going on down there?” demanded Strategos Clearchus.

  He looked at the visual display inside his command dromon, but nothing other than the red haze could be seen for up to a hundred kilometres in any direction.

  “We can’t see through the field, or send craft through it, Strategos.”

  “I know that!” he snapped back angrily.

  Kleandridas knew full well that his anger wasn’t directed at him personally. The entire wave of Laconian troops was waiting to move in and assist the Arcadians. Three dromons had already gone down upon moving near the field.

  “Can’t we just hit the transmitter from up here?”

  “No, Sir. The equipment appears to be based inside the mountain and is protected by substantial turret and missile batteries. Our records show they match known Median configurations.”

  “Okay, then we bring in bombers from the fleet, and destroy the mountain with atomics.”

  Kleandridas nodded in agreement.

  “Yes, that is a possibility, but we will not have them for at least three more hours. Also, what will Lord Cyrus have to say about Terrans using atomic weapons on their sovereign soil?”

  Clearchus looked at him as he thought on the options. He knew that the Median Lord wouldn’t give him permission to use his most powerful weapons. If he did so without permission, it would mean his dismissal and possible breaking up of the Armada. Even worse would be the wrath of Tissaphernes and his fleet. Right now, it was one formidable battleship. His intelligence staff had already estimated he had access to just as many ships as the Terrans, but they had no idea where the ships actually were at present. He sighed to himself, angry that he couldn’t strike out at his tormentors.

  “Show me the geographical data again, how close can we land?”

  Kleandridas pressed a button and changed the view to one of the surface of the planet. A red dome appeared covering the Citadel and everything out to a hundred kilometres.

  “We can land on the periphery, but it will take more than a day’s hard march to reach the Citadel. The last signal that came through said Dukas Xenias had cleared the outer wall, but not that the Mulac threat was over.”

  Clearchus pointed to a range of lower peaks to the north of the Citadel.

  “What about here?”

  Kleandridas turned the map around and zoomed in. The lower peaks were only ten kilometres from the Citadel but well inside the shielded zone. He looked up, confused. Clearchus smiled.

  “Look. We come in at the correct angle to intersect the shield. From here, we are protected from the tower weapons by this higher mountain range,” he said, moving his hand over the map.

  “We cut the engines and glide in under manual hydraulics, to this point. We’ll set up a landing zone ten kilometres away from the Dukas and be only a few hours from the Citadel.”

  Kleandridas looked dubious.

  “Glide? Can it be done?” he asked.

  “We’ll find out soon enough. Send the command, we’re going in.”

  * * *

>   The first hundred metres had passed without incident on the mountainous peak. The rocky path must have been cut centuries before, perhaps millennia, and little now remained of the original work. Where before, there had been deeply cut steps, now there was crunched rubble and split stones. Even so, it was not as bad as it had looked from the Citadel. The Komes was still at the front, along with a handful of the fitter soldiers plus Xenophon and his comrades. Of the three hundred Night Blades that had landed, only ninety had made it to the base of the mountain. The rest were scattered either amongst the other defenders or among the casualties of the battle.

  From his raised position, Xenophon glanced back to see what was happening at the Citadel. He was shocked to see the great horde of the enemy had now completely encircled the defenders. He tapped Glaucon’s shoulder.

  “Look.”

  He looked down and shook his head.

  “They won’t last long against that,” he said firmly as something caught his eye.

  “What is it?” asked Xenophon.

  Glaucon pointed to the bottom of the path they were following. A group of shapes were moving in the same direction as the Night Blades. He tapped his optical unit and found his first close-up view of the Mulacs. They were of a similar build to Terrans but broader shouldered and encased in crude metal armour. Their heads were much shorter and wider than a human; almost like a thick disc fitted on top of a short but wide neck.

  “They’re coming after us, come on!” called out Xenophon so that the rest of the unit could hear him.

  Komes Pasion and his bodyguard stopped for a second and looked to see what he was referring to. Two small puffs nearby were the only signal that the Mulacs were trying to hit them with long-range rifles. A number of the stratiotes armed with the longer-ranged pulse rifles took aim and fired back. The Komes turned and continued up the steep and rocky path, and his voice appeared inside the helmet of each of them.

  “Ten men with rifles stay here and hold them off. Everybody else keep moving. We have to stop them before it’s too late.”

  None of Xenophon’s team carried such a weapon. Even the rifle now carried by Glaucon was just a standard issue device, and hardly suited to the sharpshooter role. They pushed on forwards, leaving behind two small groups of stratiotes. Xenophon glanced at them as he moved away, a feeling of fear and guilt as they left them behind. His attention was immediately drawn to the increasing violence back inside the Citadel. From his high vantage point, he could make out a concerted attack from the Citadel side of the enemy. Hundreds of Mulacs were trying to break through the thin lines of defenders. Though the Mulacs were quite hard to discern from a distance, it was much easier to spot the Terrans, especially the heavier armoured spatharii with their shimmering body shields. Flashes of blue plasma and yellow explosions ripped all around the battleground.

  “Incoming!” cried one of the stratiotes from further up the mountain.

  The gunfire arrived at almost the same time as the man’s warning. It started as a few dozen pulse rifle shots, but then continued to include rocket fire. Tamara looked out from her cover and blazed away with her carbine. She must have loosed off an entire clip before Glaucon reached her.

  “Save your ammo. You can’t do anything from down here.”

  The eighty stratiotes moved on in two long snaking columns, each just a man wide to reduce the effect of the incoming fire. By the time they reached the halfway point, a dozen had been killed or wounded. Anybody that couldn’t make it any further was left behind. They could come back for them if, and when, they succeeded, the Komes had explained. Down below, the ten in the rearguard had been involved in a long shooting match with the following Mulacs. They were doing good work, but the number of Mulacs had increased by a factor of five. Soon they would crash through the rearguard and on their way to hitting them from behind.

  The noise of massed heavy weapons drew Xenophon and Glaucon’s attention. It was much closer than the weapon mounts and appeared to be from a section of the mountain just thirty metres in front, not far from where Pasion was. Two stratiotes stumbled back and tumbled down the mountainside, and the rest of the unit ducked down to avoid any more gunfire.

  “Report?” whispered Xenophon on his radio. The frequency was filled with continuous chatter from the dozen dekarchos leading the troops. None listened to him, for a mere stratiotes was low priority amongst the chain of command. One, an older woman that he recognised, was waving for them to fall back. A few followed her commands, but she was grabbed and pushed back by a large black dekarchos.

  “We can’t go back!” he roared before jumping around the corner. Another burst of heavy weapons fire struck him in the chest. He took the full brunt of the attack and joined the other fallen. The remaining troops scattered. Their ascent now stalled by the hidden enemy.

  “Xenophon, can we try that trick of yours again?” asked Roxana.

  He shook his head.

  “No, the overcharged weapon only works with the plasma cannons, unless you’ve got one spare?”

  Nobody come forward with the required item.

  “It doesn’t matter, anyway. The blast would probably blow up from the mountainside in the time we’d have.”

  Jack clambered down the rocks and narrowly avoided a pulse round that must have been fired up from the pursuing Mulacs. Xenophon looked down to see them approaching at a distance, but there was no sign of their rearguard.

  “Dammit, they’re through already. Anybody have any plasma grenades left?”

  One of the dekarchos nearer to the front held up single grenade.

  “Glaucon, with me,” he said, and then worked his way up the path to where the officer waited. He held out the grenade to Xenophon who handed it back.

  “No, I need you roll it around the corner on my mark.”

  “Why? I can’t hit them from here.”

  “Just do it when I say, okay?”

  The man nodded but looked completely unconvinced at his suggestion. More gunfire erupted along the rear of their group, and Roxana spread out the stratiotes into a skirmish line to hold them back. The concentrated fire from two-dozen of the Terran soldiers was withering and forced the Mulacs into cover. Xenophon leaned in towards Glaucon and the Dekarchos.

  “Once the grenade goes off, we rush the place, got it?”

  They both nodded.

  “Do it!”

  The man placed his hand on the rock and hurled the grenade towards where the gunfire had come from. There was short delay, followed by a flash of blue light and a loud vibration.

  “Now!” cried Xenophon.

  He jumped around the corner and charged into the dust, unable to see a thing. Behind him followed Glaucon, the Dekarchos and half a dozen more stratiotes who assumed the area was now clear. Xenophon reached within two metres of the fortified entrance before he was able to see inside. It was a thick stone archway. A tripod mounted heavy pulse cannon was fitted in the centre, around which four men operated it. Xenophon shouted out and jumped at them, firing from both of his Asgeirr-Carbines. Two of the men were cut down, but the other two were able to open fire. Glaucon and Xenophon were past the gun and inside, but two of the men following took the gun blast and vanished in the dust.

  Unable to turn the gun far enough, the two Mulac gunners drew fighting blades and attacked Xenophon and Glaucon. The Dekarchos jumped inside and blasted away at the weapon emplacement with his carbine and moved into the darkness.

  “Watch out!” shouted Glaucon, as he spotted the first Mulac driving a blade towards Xenophon. He parried it to the left and then stabbed his right hand with its extended blade into the alien’s chest. The monofilament point of the precision blade easily burst through the armour and embedded itself almost its full length inside. The two stumbled to the ground, leaving just one. Glaucon ducked past the creature’s attack and locked its arm, spinning it around. It was a classic move he and Xenophon had practiced in their training back home. He twisted the arm behind its back and then pushed down ha
rd, neatly snapping the bone. It cried out, but its sound was cut short by the wounded shape of Pasion appearing. He jumped inside, his shimmering body shield on and his carbine in one hand. Blood dripped from two wounds to his shoulder.

  “Animals!” he screamed and blazed away, and dozens of the rounds cut into the Mulac.

  It was over in seconds, and the enemy strongpoint was theirs. From inside, it was clear that the doorway was one of many minor entrances that led into the heart of the mountain. A tunnel ran inside and into a large hexagonal room about fifty metres wide. It was difficult to see what else was there due to the blasts of gunfire. The Terran warriors, buoyed up by their success, rushed in and ran directly into the path of a dozen Mulac warriors. Gunfire moved back and forth as the weight of numbers prevailed.

  Komes Pasion signalled for them to stay close to the walls. He tried to move forward, but whatever wounds he had sustained must have caught up with him. He slumped down, his breathing heavy and his face pale. Two of his bodyguards knelt beside him while a third connected a medical diagnostic device to the port on his forearm. The wounded Komes looked up to see Xenophon and Roxana nearby.

  “Dekarchos!” he called out.

  They looked at each other and then at those around them. The dekarchos were split among the rest of the group and none within earshot.

  “Yes, you two. Come closer!” he snapped.

  It wasn’t clear if he was dazed, confused or just being plain irritable. Even so, they both moved to the man. The gunfire had dropped to a trickle as the Terrans secured the level. The Komes was about to speak, but one of the senior Dekarchos, a man called Calum, approached and knelt down beside him.

  “Komes. The lower level is secure. There is a large access tunnel leading up to the higher levels. There is only one way up.”

  “We need to get up there, and fast,” added Xenophon.

  A low rumble from further down the mountain signalled the approaching Mulacs. As if to emphasis the urgency of their situation, a volley of rockets exploded outside the archway into the lower level.