Black Legion: 05 - Sea of Fire (3 page)

“The war robots of the Robotic Domains have never been fully controlled. Even if you can give it orders, it can still choose to override them if it interferes with its core programming. Everybody knows that.”

He lowered his hand, ready to grab a firearm.

“Show me this thing’s loyalty.”

Tirbazus nodded politely.

“Of course.”

He then beckoned to a pair of his personal guards. The fully armored warriors moved up to him with their lances resting on their shoulders. After speaking quietly to them, he looked back to Ariaeus.

“These are two of my royal guards, warriors dedicated to follow out my orders, no matter where they might lead.”

He then looked to the machine.

“Tir, I order you to destroy these soldiers.”

The machine lowered its stance and lifted its arms ready.

“Affirmative,” it answered in a robotic, emotionless tone.

The two soldiers stepped back, their weapons lowered and in two hands. They moved them like heavy spears, but the tips glowed with energy. The robot waited completely stationary, with only a hum from its motors as the eyes tracked their movement. They separated so that one faced each of its sides. Then with no warning it sprung to the left and brought both arms down against the first soldier.

“Watch!” said Tirbazus with a laugh.

The soldier managed to stab with his lance, but the machine bashed it aside with its flank just as the first of the hammer arms crashed into his shoulder. With a cry of pain, he fell to the ground, his weapon clattering down beside him. The second yelled an insult in his thick Hayastani accent and struck the machine in the back. There was a bright flash, and the lance burned a small hole into the plating. The machine spun about and snapped the weapon clean in two with a quick vertical strike.

“Destroy,” it said.

The soldier stepped back and drew a curved blade from his side. The machine lurched ahead and swung down both arms low and behind, then up above its head, and down directly in front to crash down onto the soldier’s head.

“Stop!” Tirbazus cried.

The machine froze in mid strike while the soldier held out his blade, waiting to parry, no matter how ineffective the technique might be. From the angle where Tirbazus and Ariaeus were watching, it looked like some ancient sculpture.

“Tir, the kill order is revoked. Return to your station.”

“Affirmative. Station.”

The machine lowered its arms and moved back to its original position. With nothing more than a switch of his hands, Tirbazus gave the order for his soldiers to move in to help the wounded man. As they helped him away, he turned back to Ariaeus and then pointed at the fourth and final figure.

“This is Kallinos, a mercenary from the Ionian Territories.”

Ariaeus lifted his lip in a sneer as he looked at the figure. He went up to it and walked around while shaking his head. It was as tall as him but broader, with a large chest, thick arms, narrow waist, and long flowing white hair. Its head was covered with a brown, leather style helmet that left nothing to see other than the chin and mouth. A scar ran from the mouth and down the neck.

“A half-breed? I thought they had been wiped out a generation ago.”

Tirbazus’ expression stayed the same as he replied.

“Elsewhere you would be right. In the aftermath of the Ionian Genocides, a large number of refugees made their way across the Empire. A small number reached the Sea of Fire. Very few made it further, but those that did, well...”

Now Tirbazus appeared to delight in seeing the Median nobleman’s discomfort.

“We have found their unique skills to be highly valuable. The speed and cunning of the Medes, with the strength, violence, and resilience of the Terrans.”

Ariaeus spat at the feet of Kallinos.

“This creature has no right to live in the Empire or anywhere else.”

He hadn’t noticed, but as he’d been circling the mercenary, its eyes had been tracking him. Ariaeus moved nearer and then moved his hand close to touch its face. With a movement as quick as a cat, it grabbed his arm, twisted it back, and forced Ariaeus to the floor.

“Never, ever touch me. Medes!”

With a superlative effort, Ariaeus twisted away and leapt back to his feet. He brushed away the dust from his clothing and adjusted his cloak.

“Just typical and exactly what I would expect from a half-breed, violent, angry, and easily baited. How can this...thing help the Empire?”

Kallinos stepped back and into its position next to the machine. As it waited, it pulled of its helm to reveal the scarred face of a female. Her dark eyes and bright white hair mesmerized Ariaeus for several seconds.

“Kallinos is a male name.”

“...and Ariaeus is the name of a fool,” answered the half-breed.

Ariaeus looked to her and then back to Tirbazus who was still busy smiling.

“I see. Well, my mission is simple.”

He then looked to each of them and indicated for his own guards to approach. They placed a chest on the floor and opened it to display the finest collection of rare jewels and metals any of them could ever have seen.

“Each Terran killed in this so-called Black Legion will grant you a single talent of this wealth.”

A murmur slipped from one of the mercenaries.

“And the officers?” Bijan Hooshang asked.

“Yeah, and their commanders?” added his brother.

Ariaeus could see even the half-breed was intrigued by the riches on display before her. Only the machine showed no interest in the precious materials.

“A hundred talents will be granted for every senior officer killed and a thousand for each ship.”

He lifted his arms out to encompass the entire ship and then turned around to face the Satrap himself.

“The God King grants unlimited rewards to those who end this group of Terrans. While the Imperial Fleet is engaged elsewhere, it is for us, the loyal servants of the Empire to prove our worth. By the time they reach the border and the Sea of Fire, they will be a shadow of their former selves. If any make it out of Carduchia, they will be forced to brave the storms and dangers of the Sea of Fire. Any vessels that make it through will then face everything I have mustered in Hayastan. I will lead the Ionian Corsairs against them and destroy what remains.”

He turned to face Tirbazus.

“I can expect your forces to be waiting here for them?”

Tirbazus smiled that self assured, smug grin that made Ariaeus’ blood boil.

“Of course. If any make it this far, they will be left to face the entire armed might of my Satrapy, the Royal Fleet of Hayastan, as well as whatever forces you deem to leave here.”

Ariaeus was unable to hide his smile.

Between the wasteland of Carduchia and the fleets of Tirbazus, I will end this. And sitting right in the middle of these two forces is the Sea of Fire, a place that could win this battle for me, all on its own.

CHAPTER TWO

Terran Scout Squadron, Carduchian Wilderness

It was the third day of the fleet’s slow advance into the great Carduchian Wilderness. The Wilderness took its name from the vast asteroid field that covered a distance of more than fifty parsecs. Normally, this meant the fleet would need to take on fuel to carry out at least four jumps. It was much too risky to carry out long jumps in such a changing and dangerous place. Tales of greedy traders that tried to make fifteen parsec leaps in Carduchia were known as far away as Laconia. Lumps of rock the size of planets right down to the size of Terran fighters marked where the mythical realm of the Chians had been destroyed. Now the Wilderness was nothing more than a wasteland, with few moons, stations, or supply posts remaining. Its only purpose was to provide a buffer between the Carduchian Satrapy and the Imperial Core Worlds.

“Bring us in slowly,” said Xenophon.

Lady Artemas touched his shoulder and nodded.

“Yes, we have to move around the cluster and on to the next waypoint.”

The navigator on the command deck made minor adjustments to their course so that they could pass through safely. It was tricky due to the massive amount of debris, as well as the fact that chunks continued to collide and send out debris in other directions. With a burst of flame from maneuvering thrusters, the single light Cruiser Antaeus passed a massive asteroid and twisted about to move past hundreds of smaller fragments. The ship was Theban and crewed by a mixture of men and women from throughout the Terran Peloponnese region of space.

“I hate this place,” complained Kentarchos Cadmus of Thebes.

Xenophon looked at the ship’s commander and smiled.

Spaced out around the vessel were six Terran torpedo boats, each bearing the markings of different Terran states. Two of these bore the Arcadian symbols, and it was the Arcadian vessels that scouted out ahead.

“Now roll,” said Artemas.

The Kentarchos looked to Xenophon, but he nodded and refused to answer. Even now, after all they’d been through, there were warriors in the Legion wary of being around Artemas. With a grumble, he passed on the order, and they were soon barreling through the rock and ice with just meters to spare.

“How many times have you done this?” Xenophon asked.

They both watched the view as the modern vessel arched its way through the debris. Similar to the Titans, the ship was fitted with a partial VOB system that offered a virtual view of everything round them.

“Six, all of them before I was nine years old.”

An officer further back laughed, and Xenophon twisted his head about to find the man. It was a young stratiotes, perhaps nineteen years old, and wearing his Legion tunic and breastplate.

“Got something to say, Stratiotes?”

The man raised an eyebrow but said nothing in reply. Xenophon could see the man was a troublemaker, but he was also surrounded by a number of officers bearing the same marks from Thebes.

Boeotians.

The entire region was a hotbed of activity, and they had been one of the many Terran factions to side against Attica in the war. Like so much of Terran politics, their bitterness to Attica came from substantial Attican support for Boeotian border worlds. These planets had been supplied and supported by the state, with the moon of Plataea being one of the most significant. The Thebans in a long and bitter orbital siege and blockade had razed the colonial moon. Now the entire surface was nothing but a wasteland inhabited by mercenaries and criminals.

“Problem?” Artemas asked in her cool, hushed voice.

Xenophon shook his head.

“No, nothing unusual. Just our Boeotian friends.”

Artemas sighed. She’d witnessed the strengths and weaknesses of the Terrans in almost every possible way. The Boeotians were fragmented and hostile to their Attican neighbors. The Laconians were independent and wary of the others, while the Atticans considered themselves the intellectual masters of all Terrans. The Arcadians lived close to the Laconians and fought against them almost as often as alongside them.

“I am surprised you are able to send even one man off to war, you all spend so much time squabbling.”

This time her voice was louder, and others on the command deck could hear her. The Boeotian stratiotes was pointing at Artemas and making some joke. Xenophon kept his head fixed on the man while his eyes searched for Tamara. He spotted her even further back, sitting up in the shadows on a deactivated console. He tilted his head toward the man and gave him a nod. Not realizing what was happening; the cocky young man smirked and continued to chew something on one side of his mouth and then laughed to his friend. There was a short delay, perhaps five or six seconds, and then Tamara was on him. She tapped him on the shoulder, and as he turned around, slammed her knee hard into his crotch.

“You little...” started the man.

Tamara laughed and struck him hard in the stomach with a wickedly fast uppercut. He dropped to his knees so that he was now lower than the young woman.

“The name is Tamara, remember that.”

With that, she brought down her left arm in a vicious backfist that struck him across the cheek with the back of her forearm. He slumped to the floor and groaned in pain. A second man, tanned and with a pair of rough looking blade scars running from his temple down under his tunic, stepped alongside his comrade. Tamara flipped out a blade from a hidden spot in her clothing and held it low, just below his ribs.

“Don’t even think about it.”

The man lifted his lip in a wicked scowl.

“Yeah, stay right there. I know men like you, and you always, and I mean always, take the fool’s choice.”

She turned her back on him and began to walk.

“They always do,” she said quietly.

Xenophon watched her and gave the smallest of nods. Either the teenager had seen movement elsewhere or had spotted Xenophon, or more likely it was mere timing. In any case, she turned back around and sidestepped. The man was already closing and nearly stumbled over her as she changed direction. Tamara slammed her foot up hard into his lower stomach. He doubled over at the same time as the Kentarchos shouted out.