Black Legion: 02 - Assault on Khorram (22 page)

“We just need enough time to get a small group in position near the brig rooms.”

“Brig rooms?” asked the woman.

“Andronicus and his heavies have locked the surviving command crew into the rooms along the secondary service corridor, the one you saw on the video feeds.”

“Surviving, did you say?” asked the Chief.

“Yes, we don’t know who we’ve lost altogether, but from what we’ve learned so far, at least half the command crew are dead or wounded. It wasn’t just a coup. It was a bloody massacre up there.”

The woman sighed and placed her forehead in her hands. She looked back up to Xenophon with a stern expression on her face.

“We’re all ex Arcadian or Alliance military here. Find us weapons, and we’ll come with you.”

Xenophon looked at her and the other crew, but a nagging doubt told him he needed to find combat troops, not crewmen. Still, they had just minutes before the call back to the guard. If there was no response, then Andronicus would know the game was up and reinforce his position. He looked at the others, and they all appeared keen to do something.

“Do you speak for them all?” he asked.

“My name is Helena Bergland, assistant to the Chief, and this is my team. The Chief was sent down here along with him to redirect control,” she explained while pointing to the body on the ground.

“Fair enough, for starters you can take his weapon,” said Xenophon, only now realising the man had equipment they could use.

“If you want to come with us, I could do with two more, but the others need to keep this door secured until we retake the ship. Bring hand tools and lamps, if you have them.”

Two grubby looking crewmen, both in grease smeared overalls, stepped forward. They easily put their hands on heavy metal wrenches, and one lifted a rubber coated inspection lamp from the wall. The first man nodded to Xenophon.

“Name’s Fued. Fued Hill. Get me near them, and they’ll regret ever turning on the commander.”

The second man reached out and shook Xenophon’s hand. His grip was like a vice, and for a second Xenophon almost gasped. He was a large man,
barrel-chested, middle aged and had a slightly downturned mouth. His face was creased with permanent frown lines on his forehead.

“Bradford J Freely. I’ve heard of you, I served in the Alliance military as well, one of those that made it off Plymouth Station before the fall.”

Xenophon looked back to the Chief Engineer. He was already working through various substructures of the ship to redirect power.

“Give us four minutes, and then cut the lights and gravity. Don’t open the door for anybody, understood? We will contact you through the system if we’re successful.”

The Chief nodded, and the four moved out through the door. Xenophon was last and turned back to find the two men starting to move metal stowage boxes towards the door. The Chief was back on the computer. Helena ripped open one of the storage lockers on the wall. It contained a variety of engineering equipment, but it was the four sets of mag boot clamps that really caught their eyes.

“I think you’ll be needing these.”

She threw them over, and in just a few seconds they fitted them around their boots. It was simple gear, but it would allow them to move on the metallic parts of the ship once the gravity was switched off.

“Thank you,” replied Artemas, and she spoke to Xenophon, “I’d almost forgotten them.”

Xenophon smiled and checked his boots one last time. He spotted the Chief still working feverishly on the computer system.

“Hey, Chief, what’s your name?”

He looked up, though only for a split-second.

“Don’t worry about names, plenty of time for that later. Just get your hands back on this ship, and sort out that madman at the helm. If we head any closer to the Olympia, we’ll probably end up suffering the same fate, might even be his plan all along.”

Xenophon nodded and gave a mock salute.

“See you on the other side.”

The men inside pushed the door shut, and from the corridor, he could hear the sound of heavy gear being moved.

“Xenophon, we don’t have long, let’s go,” said Artemas.

She led the way but on a slightly different route to the one they had initially left on. As they moved, she double-checked her video feed from the bugs. Every few seconds a burst of interference from the engines would cut the image, but it always returned, until they reached the penultimate ladder to climb.

“What’s wrong? Where the hell is everyone?” asked Bradford.

The tunnel they were in was only one level below the command deck, yet completely deserted. It was very poorly lit; that was probably the main reason Artemas had chosen it.

“Big problem, this shaft leads directly into one of the generator rooms. It’s on the other side from the first brig room, and I’ve just lost the feed from two of the bugs.”

“What? They found them?” exclaimed Xenophon bitterly.

Artemas fiddled with the unit but nothing changed. She started cursing in her unintelligible tongue. Xenophon hadn’t heard the language spoken for a long time and could only pick out the odd word. He did notice one being used and was taken aback by her use of it.

“Hey, easy on the language.”

She looked up, a surprised expression on her face.

“You know our language?”

Fued stepped closer and whispered to the three of them.

“Maybe now isn’t the best time for flirting over language use. What are we going to do?”

Xenophon almost blushed with embarrassment but was saved by the sound of footsteps further inside the shaft. Artemas indicated for the rest of them to move back into the shadows and to wait. Less than ten seconds later, a single armoured man approached. He carried a carbine out in front but appeared unconcerned, probably one of many on a routine patrol in the ship. Without discussion or even a signal, Artemas leapt out and grabbed him around the head. She slammed him hard against the wall and twisted his head to the right. It snapped like a twig, and he was dead before he even hit the ground.

The two crewmen watched in a mixture of dumbfounded shock and awe.

“Who the hell are you?” asked Fued.

“Hey, what were you just saying?” replied Artemas with a barely concealed grin.

Xenophon pointed at the discarded carbine now lying on the ground. In the darkness, he couldn’t make out the exact type, but it hardly mattered. It was a weapon, and he wasn’t planning on fighting a war. They just needed enough firepower to break in the brigs and command deck.

“Grab his weapon. We have less than ninety seconds before the Chief cuts the lights and artificial gravity.”

Fued grabbed the carbine and quickly searched the fallen man before holding up his prize, a brace of standard issue Arcadian pistols. He thrust one into his belt and threw the second over to Bradford. Both men pulled the slides and ensured the safeties were off. Xenophon watched with a satisfied look as they went about their business. At least it looked like they could handle the weapons; it was a start.

“I’m going up,” said Artemas. “Follow me.”

She moved up the flimsy looking ladder to the hatch. She made no discernible noise and reached the wheeled clamp that held it shut in seconds. She looked down one last time at Xenophon to find him watching her move. She was unfazed by the attention and turned back to the hatch.

“Keep your eyes open and off me for a minute. We go...now!”

She grabbed the wheel and twisted for a half turn. With a clunk, the lock released and swung downwards to reveal a lightly lit room. Before she could move any further, a head appeared. She reached out to grab the man, but Xenophon reached her first and held onto her leg, stopping her from moving any further.

“No, that’s one of Xenias’ men. They must be holding them in there.”

She said nothing and lifted herself inside the room. Xenophon did the same, and the two crew moved in behind them. They loomed about the open space to find two men lying on worktops with considerable blood around them. Xenophon started to speak, but one of the hidden figures put a hand over his mouth and stepped closer.

“Ssh, they have guards not far from here.”

Xenophon looked around. It was clear these were not prisoners, so they must have hidden in this part of the ship following the uprising. He counted the silhouettes and came up with seven people plus the wounded.

“We’re going to take back the ship, you up for that?” he asked.

There was no response, just stunned silence. Artemas leaned in, her cheek almost against his. He could see her dark, close fitted clothing that looked almost like a renaissance bodice. Her hood was now pulled back and revealed her pale face and dark hair. He almost choked before speaking; he had never seen her equal before.

“We don’t have much time. In less than a minute, the gravity will be out,” she whispered.

“Gravity?” said one of the men. “That could give us a chance.” He pulled out a pistol from his belt and pulled back the slide. It made a gentle hiss sound as the pulse charge activated. Three other did the same, but each carried nothing more substantial than a military sidearm.

“Get ready,” said Xenophon as he moved to the door and looked through the tiny gap in the frame. It showed little, but he could definitely tell they were in the right place. The lighting at the far end indicated they were on the same level as the command deck.

“Now!”

He slid the lock to the side and pulled the door inwards to reveal the short corridor ahead. It was blocked with discarded storage containers and broken equipment like many of the empty parts of the ship. He moved ahead with Artemas right behind. The two crew plus those that wanted to join them followed until they reached the better lit section.

“Thirty seconds, we need to reach the brig, and fast! When the power goes, just keep them all busy. We’ll do the rest!”

He didn’t wait for a response and leapt out into the corridor. It was wide enough for three or four people to walk down side by side. He turned right and sprinted for the wider section near the entrance to the command deck. A short distance away was the crossroads section that split off into two smaller side passageways. The improvised brigs were on the right if he remembered correctly. There were only two guards, and both of whom were chatting near the doorway. Xenophon contemplated slowing down, but there just wasn’t the time. He made it to the crossroads and turned right. Artemas made it shortly behind him as well before they were finally spotted.

“Hey, what are you...” shouted the first guard but was quickly silenced by three quick shots fired by Fued. He continued around the corner to leave Bradford and the small contingent they had just met.

“Don’t let anybody through!” Xenophon shouted over his shoulder. At the end of the short passageway were three doors and he quickly recognised the one from the bug feed. It was sealed from the outside with the traditional wheel lock that could be accessed from one side only. He and Fued spun the wheel together and ripped open the door. As it opened, a fist came out that Xenophon narrowly avoided. A broken chair struck Fued and threw him onto his back. Artemas lifted her carbine but restrained herself in time for the others in the room to show their faces.

“Xenophon?” called out a woman’s voice.

More gunfire erupted from behind them as Bradford and the others encountered resistance. Glaucon, Tamara and Roxana emerged from the darkness as well as other familiar faces. Xenophon was shocked to see the bulk of the Dukas appear. He was bloodied and bandaged but still standing. Before any of them spoke, the lights flickered and cut out completely. Only the lights carried by Xenophon and Artemas gave them any clue as to what was happening.

“Good work, the lights, what next?” asked the Dukas.

As if in response, a dull thump spread through the ship and the artificial gravity deactivated. A solid clump sound from the mag gear used by Fued, Xenophon and Artemas kept them firmly on the ground.

“This is our only chance. Take these,” explained Xenophon, handing over the small assortment of weapons they had accumulated. It was only enough to arm another three people, but it was better than nothing.

“Now we hit the command deck, and fast!” said Artemas.

They stomped along the metal flooring with one or two people holding on to each of them. Glaucon and Roxana stayed with Xenophon, but Tamara managed to hold onto the walls, dragging herself just as quickly, even in the zero-g environment. Once they reached the corner, they stumbled into an unholy mess of a gun battle. Two bleeding men drifted in a deathly spin while everybody blasted away from behind any cover they could hold onto. Into this inferno of blood and flashing muzzles pushed the only four with mag-boots. The entire ship shuddered, but from what wasn’t clear. It may have been due to external influence, or more likely from the Chief Engineer trying to help with the diversion. Either way, it made it easier to move as everybody was thrown about.