The Citadel, Planet Cappadocia
It took less than twenty minutes for the rest of the ground troops to land their vessels and start unloading heavy equipment. The dromons were dusty and some damaged from incoming fire. Even so, they discharged their cargos of equipment and troops with great speed. Most had landed outside, but one had made the dangerous trip inside the Mulac compound. It was an incredible feat of flying and placed the troops on board directly into the heart of the operation. As it touched down, the door blew open, and a man in heavy Arcadian armour stepped out from the cloud of dust. Some of the spatharii nearby spotted him and knelt down.
“Dukas Xenias,” whispered Roxana.
The armoured man moved forward, closely followed by an armed bodyguard of elite spatharii. He moved into the compound, looked at the damage, and then up to the rest of the Citadel. His armour was far more impressive than anything worn by the regular troops and was covered in ornamental flourishes. A dozen dekarchos rushed up to him and updated him of their progress. Xenophon moved forward to try and hear what was happening but was stopped by another man in heavy armour; it was Komes Pasion, the commander of the Night Blades.
“Stratiotes Xenophon, isn’t it? You brought down the wall?” he asked.
Xenophon didn’t know what to say and simply nodded in agreement. The Komes was a warrior from a completely different background to himself. Whereas Xenophon was lithe, young and intellectual, the Komes was well built, strong and hardened by years of conflict.
“Excellent!” replied the Komes. He wore similar armour to the Dukas, and at this range the detail and inscriptions in his helmet and breastplate stood out. He was not just a mercenary; he clearly had substantial military experience. The Komes walked towards their senior commander and motioned for Xenophon and his comrades to join them. The Komes saluted, and the Dukas looked first at him and then over to Xenophon.
“So, with all the spatharii available to us, it was a simple stratiotes of the Night Blades that gained entry for us. Impressive.”
He looked about as though trying to find somebody else.
“This is your unit I see, but where is your Dekarchos?”
Roxana spoke in reply, keen to be noticed by the old commander.
“Wounded, Dukas. During the assault on the walls, he was struck by pulse rifle rounds.”
“Then I hope he will recover soon. This force has much to be grateful for. If not for this breach, we may have had to call off the mission and lose up to half of my troops.”
Lose? He would just leave his men behind? Xenophon thought, now not quite as impressed as he had been.
The Dukas turned back to his bodyguard and to the newly arrived Komes. They spoke for a while, and every few seconds one of the men would point up to the fortress. More fighters flew overhead, circling around the mountains. Xenophon watched them and almost smiled at the increasing numbers. The operation looked like it was all working well.
That is when it happened. When the operation moved from total victory into a great defeat. It began from the highest point on the low right peak, about eight hundred metres up. From what looked like an observation platform, a great blast erupted. It wasn’t an explosion, and the mountaintop wasn’t damaged. It was more like an area of effect weapon that sent a faint red distortion wave out in all directions. Sensors built into the troops’ armour on the ground instantly picked up the energy weapon threat.
“It’s an enhanced electro-magnetic pulse weapon!” shouted one of the junior officers.
The small number of fighters circling the mountain spun out of control. Their control systems were compromised by the close contact to the blast wave. Those aircraft that were further away altered their course to move well away from the mountains. He watched as one of the dromons that had already lifted off and accelerated up into the sky to start its return trip to the fleet. No sooner had it reached the height of the field than a series of odd occurrences started. At first a number of flashes ran along its stern. Seconds later, the vessel was falling from the sky. The Dukas watched in anger as it continued on its depressing course until smashing into a nearby rocky outcrop.
“The bastards have blocked us in with shields!” he snapped.
Komes Pasion checked a portable tactical unit that was still functioning. Xenophon looked at his hands and breathed a sigh of relief that both weapons were showing as functioning.
I can do without non-functioning weapons if we’re trapped here!
“It’s not just that, Dukas. We’ve lost all communications above the shield. They must be interfering with our digital traffic.”
A loud cry like that of a wailing banshee burst from the lower levels of the Citadel. The high-pitched scream caught the attention of all the Terrans. Xenophon felt a shudder run down his spine at the sound. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. He looked in the direction of the sound and spotted movement along the lower levels. It looked like people were breaking out from the structure. For a second it looked like the civilians, but then he saw the armour.
“Mulacs!” shouted a spatharios.
Like a kicked ant’s nest, the trickle of Mulacs quickly turned into a surge of thousands as they charged out of every doorway or shadow. The look on the face of Dukas Xenias changed from interest to near panic. Komes Pasion identified the threat immediately and took control. He rushed over to the nearest unit and pointed up to the Citadel.
“This is a Mulac trap. Form into defensive positions, now!”
Xenophon heard his voice appear inside his helmet’s communication unit.
“This is Komes Pasion. Mulacs are surging from the Citadel. Take up defensive positions, and prepare for assault.”
Almost as soon as he started to speak, the Mulacs slowed their progress and proceeded to spread out, creating a wide front that in a matter of minutes would surround the Terrans on three sides. The enemy artillery opened fire, some from the Citadel and more from the other peaks dotted around the fortress. The first shots were high explosive, and soon followed by the much deadlier plasma shells that dropped down from high weapon installations. The Terrans scrambled into cover, using everything from Mulac cargo containers to pieces of equipment or even the rubble from the smashed Citadel walls for protection. Hundreds of humanity’s best warriors, who until a minute earlier had been revelling in their success, now found their position reversed. They took shelter inside the part of the fortress they had so recently captured and awaited the terrible onslaught of the Mulac attackers. A group of the last four remaining fighters launched a series of missiles at the peak in a vain attempt to destroy the weapon. Before the missiles covered half the distance, they were plucked out of the sky by accurate automatic pulse cannon fire.
Xenophon and another five squads of stratiotes from the Night Blades moved to the right side of their force’s deployment area. Once in cover, he looked up to the peak and checked the magnification on his helmet. He could see turrets that far up plus movement.
“What is it?” asked Roxana.
He looked at her for a moment. Her armour was filthy, yet she seemed to be almost enjoying the rigour of combat. She spotted him smiling at her and looked back up at the peak, trying to hide her embarrassment. He checked the readings in his helmet again, doing his best to avoid thinking about their awkward glance.
“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 hard, 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.
“I’ll hold them off down here. You go!” said Roxana.
The Dekarchos looked at her and then to his Komes who simply nodded at him.
“Assault the higher levels, destroy the weapon and get Clearchus down here, fast!”
His eyes fluttered and he passed out of consciousness. Roxana bent down to check his breathing. She waited a moment and sighed.
“He’s breathing.”
The Dekarchos signalled to the guards to help carry the wounded commander into the relative safety of the lower levels. Roxana and Xenophon followed them and into the large, hexagonal room that marked this level of the mountain stronghold. In the middle of the room was a pit that filled nearly half the space. Xenophon leaned over its precarious edge and looked down. It was pure black. Taking a small rock from the ground, he dropped it, only for it to take an age before a gentle clunk signalled its landing.
“Let’s not fall down there,” suggested Roxana.
The guards dragged the Dukas to the far side of the room and at the base of the tunnel. It was a more recent addition and in a much better state of repair to the entrance. At a point of fifty to sixty metres up the tunnel, it split into a series of corridors and rooms.
“We’ll need time to find the weapon or its power source,” said the Dekarchos. He glanced at Xenophon and Roxana.
“You’re the stratiotes that blew the wall, right?” he asked.
Xenophon nodded.
“Good, you’re with me. Roxana, you know your way around command, don’t you?”
“I was an officer with the Alliance.”
“Yeah, I heard that. Rumour has it you were at the last battle around Attica.”
“We both were,” added Xenophon.
“I need experience, and most of these are newly recruited commanders. I’m giving you a field promotion, Roxana Devereux. From now, you’re a junior Dekarchos in the unit.”
He stood up and waved over to the other leaders. Most of the stratiotes took cover and watched for any signs of the approaching Mulacs. Several of the commanders had already been killed on the ascent, leaving just a handful to move back. Once gathered around the wounded Pasion, he began.
“Stratiotes Devereux has been promoted to junior Dekarchos. She is the most experienced of you all. I want her plus half of the unit to stay behind and keep the Mulacs busy. Start in this room.”
He extended both arms and looked about the large hexagonal room.
“Use crates, junk, even bodies, and fortify the area. You need to buy us the time to get to the higher levels, and take out the weapons. Understood?”
They nodded in silent agreement and jumped into action. The room itself contained a number of crates and abandoned or broken down machines and equipment. With over thirty stratiotes on the one level, they made quick progress. Tamara and Jack threw themselves into work and helped barricade the doorway, and at the same time doing their best to avoid the sporadic gunfire from the Mulacs outside. Jack chanced a quick looked out of the door and barely made it back inside, as a dozen shots smashed around the arched doorway.
“They’re massing for an assault, so whatever you’re going to do, do it fast!” he shouted.
Dekarchos Calum nodded and moved to the tunnel, closely followed by Xenophon, Glaucon and almost thirty more stratiotes. Komes Pasion and his guards stayed where they were, helping to protect the commander and their position. Xenophon moved into the tunnel to feel a hand grab him. He spun around to find Roxana pulling him forward. He was taken so by surprise that he almost struck her with his Asgeirr-Carbine. She planted her lips firmly against his and pulled him against her body. It was a brief moment, and Xenophon was speechless. She stepped back and moved to her group, looking over her shoulder.
“Don’t do anything stupid. I’d like to see you again, and in one piece.”
Xenophon looked back to the tunnel to see his old friend Glaucon smiling, almost sniggering at him.
“About time, old son!” he laughed.
Multiple streams of pulse cannon fire blasted into the sky around the group of dromons. A single round was easily capable of tearing a metre-wide gash in any of them. The longer they stayed in the air, the greater the chance they would be struck. The lead craft was the command dromon crewed by Clearchus, and it already showed several sections of minor damage on its fuselage.
“How close are we to the landing zone?” asked Clearchus to the kentarchos of the dromon.
The officer checked his display. He pressed several buttons and checked the vessel’s navigation readouts. A green tunnel indicated their path through the energy field and down to their landing zone. With a final check, he twisted his head to look over to his commander.
“Seventeen minutes, Strategos. We hit the shield in just under a minute, and then we cut the electronics and glide on in. We can use our mechanical thrusters to provide extra thrust. It’s not enough for powered flight, but it does mean we can come in lower and faster.”
The pilot looked concerned, and that worried Clearchus. He wasn’t a man that left anything to chance, and the idea of crashing and burning was one he was keen to avoid.
“Can you do it?”
“No problem. It won’t be easy, but these birds are designed to make glider landings from breaking orbit. That’s what they were originally built for, back in the day.”
“Understood,” replied the Strategos. He nodded in satisfaction and turned to his personal unit waiting patiently inside the vessel. They were the best of the Laconians, and that meant they were the best that existed, at least in the eyes of the Terrans. The warriors wore the uniform of the Ten Thousand along with the armour, helmet and accoutrements of the Laconian infantry. Clearchus looked at them with a mixture of comfort and pride. He had no doubt there wasn’t a single obstacle they couldn’t overcome. He exhaled and thought about the Citadel, trying to imagine the battle that Xenias must have become involved in. His mind was so busy that he barely noticed Kleandridas indicating towards the mapping unit.
“Strategos, I have information from Pleistoanax. He says he has received reconnaissance data from high level probes that indicate something big is happening at the Citadel.”
“Big?” Clearchus asked.
“Energy output, radiation levels and communication traffic. So far he has been unable to pinpoint anything specific, but it looks like a massive ground operation is ongoing.”
“Dukas Xenias, he must be in trouble,” added Clearchus.
Kleandridas nodded and moved the map to show their landing area.
“Tactical analysis shows the main peaks around the Citadel would be ideal locations for aerial defence and artillery. My suggestion is to drive to the Citadel, and then attack the primary peak here.”
The lower peak filled the screen; it was small compared to its cousins around it but still a large structure.
“This is the source of the energy shield. Once eliminated, we can make use of the high ground at these points to mount temporary heavy weapons.”
He selected the open channel that would put him through to all the Komes and dekarchos in the force. He took a breath and a final glance at the skyline.
“This is Strategos Clearchus. We will break the shield barrier in a matter of seconds. Check your gear, and prepare for combat landings. Speed is paramount. We must reach the Citadel as quickly as possible. Xenias and his people are depending on us.”
Alarms triggered inside the dromon, followed by the lights dimming and the sound of the vessel’s system cut to silence. All that remained were the loud rumbles coming from the turbulence and friction of the dromon moving through the air. Kleandridas looked at him.
“This is it,” was all he said.
A bright red aura ripped through the interior, starting at the front of the craft and then moving to the rear. It was all over in less than a second. Clearchus felt the nose of the dromon drop as they countered the lack of power from the engines by sacrificing height. Luckily, they were of sufficient height and travelling at the correct speed to allow them to reach their destination without the use of the engines.
“Look!” shouted Kleandridas over the tremendous noise of the unstable transport as it hurtled downwards. With the electronic displays all out of action, they were forced to lift the blast shields behind the energy portholes; the tiny windows that all atmospheric craft were equipped with for such emergencies. Clearchus looked through his window and for the first time saw the Citadel and the surrounding peaks. Streaks of weapons fire flashed in all directions. The odd stray shot from the mountains also fired down at the dromons, but they were hard pressed to even find their range, let alone hit them.
What has Xenias run into? he asked himself.