Black Legion: 05 - Sea of Fire (2 page)

“Sensors?” Ariaeus asked.

“Targeting is off-line, and our systems are having trouble detecting anything. The interference out here is making scanning and communications impossible.”

Ariaeus felt that cold sting of fear at the thought of being out there with no aid or ability to communicate. As he considered their situation, he also realized that it really didn’t matter.

Who would help, anyway?

He shrugged and then laughed to himself. The Sarvan ignored him and continued to watch the other vessel.

“My Lord. I can confirm the silhouette and markings. It is definitely the Zaal, the most advanced ship in the Hayastani fleet. The markings show her as the flagship.”

“Good,” said Ariaeus, “Prepare my shuttle. We will board her immediately.”

The Sarvan looked out through the gaps in the black obsidian shell, but Ariaeus had already gone. In his place waited the Anusiyan officer. They exchanged a quick look, but it was the officer that spoke.

“I will go with him. The Great King would not want anything to happen to him.”

The Sarvan nodded with great solemnity.

“Yes, Lord
Ruhollah
.”

The Median noble lifted the corner of his mouth just enough to bare his teeth in a smile. With Ariaeus gone, there was nobody close enough to listen to their private conversation.

“My father wants this dealt with, quickly.”

Again the Sarvan bowed just a little.

“As the Great King commands, we obey.”

* * *

Ariaeus walked into the Grand Royal Chamber aboard the Hayastani ship. In the short time it had taken for the transport to the ship, he’d been able to dress in his full regalia. Though lacking an official command position, he was still a member of the Imperial nobility, and therefore wore the purple, as was allowed in the Empire. His tall, narrow figure was shown off by the tightly fitted earthen shades in his clothing. His tunic was made up of a ribbing design that implied armor, but in a style rarely used outside of the Core Worlds. His cloak hung down from a pair of golden pins at his shoulders, and his head was completely bare. He wore tall boots up to his knees and long gloves, all covered in intricate golden embroidery.

As always, Ariaeus traveled with his full complement of guards. They were the Imperial protectors, picked men given to him by the Emperor and answerable only to their leader, the emotionless Anusiyan officer that went by no name other than his rank. The officer looked to Ariaeus and nodded politely. Ariaeus tried to smile, but it was little more than a grimace.

This wretched officer is starting to vex me.

“Come with me.”

Ariaeus increased his pace, but the guards had no problem in keeping up. They moved past the slaves and lower ranks and deeper still into the ship. Waiting along the sides of the chamber were lines of regional soldiers, each adorned in bright green breastplates and bare heads. They were shorter than the Medes, but broader in shape and completely hairless. Their skin was almost pure white, with not a hint of tan or coloration on any of them. Their eyes were a mixture of shades, the majority being bright green or blue, and he was sure they were watching him with disdain as he passed them by.

Hayastani primitives. They should be used for clearing minefields.

Ariaeus pushed on until he reached the far end of the chamber. It was rectangular, and works of art littered the tall red walls. He looked at them, noting that many were Terran, with the odd Median image thrown in. The majority was provincial, and far from what Ariaeus would consider as art. Out in front of him purple tapestries hung away from a pair of arched glass windows. They were made up of tiny segments of colored glass or some other transparent material.

This is too much for a provincial Satrapy.

Ariaeus hadn’t even noticed the ceiling, but as his eyes drifted up, he spotted the opulence of some great mythological design. White and blue clouds merged together with crackling electricity. Monstrous forms began to appear and then receded as they coalesced into shapes. Just as he could make out the shape, it then faded away. Ariaeus’ brow tightened as he noticed the imagery was moving much like the scene outside.

“What do you think? We took this from a Carduchian warship over a hundred years ago,” said the figure waiting between the two windows.

Ariaeus looked up at the figure and then continued forward. He reached the first wide step and began to move up. The figures on each side had now changed from the local troops into much more heavily armored royal soldiers. Though of the same build and race, these were armed in similar equipment to Terran spatharii. Each bore a long lance type weapon that rested on their shoulder, and with the rear placed to the floor. In contrast to the other soldiers, these wore helmets that obscured their faces.

“Very interesting. I can see why the enmity between your people still exists,” said Ariaeus.

His voice was dry, almost cool in tone. Waiting out in front was the figure of the Satrap Tirbazus, the leader of the Hayastan Satrapy, and a member of the Median Empire’s elite nobility. Ariaeus stepped right up in front of the figure and then lowered down to one knee.

“Lord Tirbazus, I bring greetings from the Emperor Artaxerxes.”

The Satrap smiled and beckoned for him to rise.

“Not from our good friend Cyrus, then?”

It was a snide jab at his role in assisting Cyrus and immediately put Ariaeus on edge.

“The God King is still grieving at the loss of such a great and noble warrior as his half brother Cyrus.”

“Indeed,” replied Tirbazus, “All the Empire grieves with you at his loss.”

The comments were once again loaded with intonation. There was little interest or love for Cyrus out here, no more so than for any of the other Satraps. The implication being that he was saddened that a traitor had died suggested a deeper, disloyal tone that he actually found amusing.

“The Empire is at a turning point, and I am here to help maintain its integrity. The God King has given me Imperial authority to travel at will, and to requisition whomever and whatever I require to complete my mission.”

He extended his hand to give a small piece of paperwork bearing the Emperor’s personal seal. Tirbazus read it and then lowered his head a centimeter and nodded.

“Of course. The Great Satrapy of Hayastan would be honored to assist the God King in any way we can. I have arranged for the special guests that you requested.”

The Satrap smacked his hand together three times, and four of his guards moved away from the walls and closer to him. From out of the two doorways came an odd assortment of creatures. They filed out until nine of them stood around the two nobles. After a short pause, another four entered the hall and moved to the flanks of Tirbazus.

“Here they are.”

Ariaeus looked at each of them in turn, soaking in the details, the clothing, the armor, the weapons, and their demeanor. Eventually, he finished and looked back to the Satrap.

“These are your finest mercenaries and bounty hunters? I understood you were to be assembling dozens of them. Not just these?”

Tirbazus feigned a low bow and nodded to the new arrivals.

“These are not just finest warriors; they are the best at what they do this side of the Empire. The first nine are the leaders of their own mercenary warbands. Each of them commands hundreds of warriors and a number of ships. They have worked together before as the Ionian Corsairs, and will fight where you tell them, and when you tell them.”

Ariaeus didn’t seem impressed, but he had at least heard of them.

“Were they not responsible for the sacking of an Attican moon just three years ago?”

Tirbazus smiled.

“Indeed they were.”

He pointed to the figure in the middle of the group. All nine of them were pureblood Hayastani warriors, and each wore a set of unique jewel-encrusted armor. Every one of them was male, and all bore scars and damage to their equipment.

“This is Koni, the elected leader of the nine warbands. He leads the Corsairs.”

Ariaeus blinked on hearing the name.

“Yes, I know of you. Were you not the same Koni that bid for the contract with Lord Cyrus?”

The mercenary smiled, baring multiple golden teeth.

“Yes.”

His accent was thick and dripped sarcasm.

“He wanted us to commit to combat in the Empire, but he offered nothing in advance. My boys will not fight inside the Empire without some kind of...compensation. Last time I took ships into Carduchian space, I lost seven ships.”

His mouth widened at the mention of the last word. Ariaeus looked at the other eight mercenaries, each of which seemed such as bloodthirsty and filthy as the next.

“What kind of resources do you have access to? These Terrans are veteran warriors, experienced fighters from multiple engagements. Even the Great King found his soldiers suffered at their hands. They are deadly opponents.”

“And we are no automatons,” hissed Koni, “We have met the Terrans many times before. They die like everybody else.”

Ariaeus laughed.

“Yes, and I have seen mercenaries die on both sides. Even so, you will be paid a year’s coin just for joining this operation. Understand that this means you will be required to stand, no matter the odds. It is my intention that you will assist Lord Tirbazus here to defend the border zone that you call the Sea of Fire.”

The mercenaries turned to each other and began to speak. One complained at the mention of Carduchia, something Ariaeus was not surprised to hear. The region was infamous because entire fleets of ships had vanished in the past. Unlike other Satrapies, the Carduchians were scattered and as likely to fight each other as any other vessels coming through. Only Imperial Navy flagged vessels could expect a clear route through, just as he had. The mercenaries continued to talk until Tirbazus called out.

“Enough!”

He then pointed to the other four individuals that were standing apart from the rest.

“The Ionian Corsairs under the command of Koni will provide you with the armed force you requested as well as your own legion of soldiers. These, on the other hand, are the four most prominent and successful bounty hunters in this sector of the Empire. They will give you a different solution to the problem.”

He then pointed to a pair of similarly dressed Hayastani.

“The first two are Bijan and Ramin, the infamous Hooshang Brothers. Between them they have captured or killed more than forty known criminals in the Empire. Their last foray, well, let’s just say that more than a few hundred died before they reached their targets.”

Ariaeus looked at them but didn’t appear particularly impressed. Their armor was light, and both carried no more than daggers and pistols on their belts. Their skins were dark, much darker than even his, yet their facial characteristics were traditional Hayastani. They looked identical, and Ariaeus could only assume they were twins. He sighed and moved away as Bijan began to speak. His accent was relatively neutral, but his words were slow and slurred.

“Lord Ariaeus. Unlike these
mercenaries
, we have military arrangements with all neighboring Satrapies. Even the Carduchians and the Robotic Domains grant us access, for a price, of course. Our ships await your orders in Carduchian space, along with a few of the vessels specially requested.”

Ariaeus listened patiently and waited for him to finish. He noted with amusement that his mention of the word mercenary started some grumbling from the Ionian Corsairs. It was always good to know where the strengths and weaknesses of your allies were. The special ships was a surprise, and he could only hope it was what he had asked for.

Bactrian ships, could they really still have them?

He made a mental note and then nodded in acknowledgement.

“Yes, that is good. If your relations are as you describe, well, then you will join my Carduchian diversion. I assume your forces are experienced in hit and run raiding tactics?”

Both brothers grinned in answer to the question.

“What is this? A machine?”

“Yes, he is an exile known as Tir, from the Robotic Domains. The machine is fully autonomous and fought in the rebellion that saw two of its own worlds destroyed by our fleet.”

Ariaeus shook his head in astonishment. The machine was of a similar size and build to the dreaded Taochi warriors. Its surface was dull metal, like unpolished iron but with a subtle green tint. The edges were heavily worn and hundreds of scratches marked it. It was bipedal and carried no weapons, though its forearms included large slabs much like heavy hammers. It lacked a neck, and its head appeared fused directly onto the torso, with no mouth, ears, or nose. Its eyes were simply a pair of craters on the head plate.

“And why would you bring this thing...here?”

Tirbazus gave him that knowing look designed to annoy.

“Tir was reprogrammed by our own agents. Its program is a simple one, to follow out the orders of the Hayastani chain of command. It will not eat, drink, rest, or sleep until its mission is complete. Just give it a target, and it will never stop.”

Ariaeus stepped back from the machine, sensing possible trouble.