Tartarus Trading Post, Neutral Space
Xenophon and Glaucon waited patiently in the main foyer as the recruitment crews and officers from a hundred ships took the resumes of the prospective candidates. They might have expected it to look more organised, but the reality was something more like a bar and marketplace than a place to get work. Along one side was a business selling armour and weapons, and they were selling hand over fist. They carried no actual weapons, but the displays were full of inert weapons to handle and experiment with. Everything was for sale, from primitive projectile weapons, to military grade pulse rifles and carbines. Xenophon was sure he spotted a Laconian assault carbine, but two guards grabbed it and took it away.
Two expensive or too illegal? he wondered. This place is a goldmine if you have people or weapons to sell.
All the doors in the many side rooms had been thrown open to reveal all manner of civilian, military and alien crews. Some wanted a medic or tech specialists, while others looked for entire units of troops to create whole companies of warriors. By far the largest crowd had gathered around the Arcadian mercenary Xenias. Apparently, this renowned commander was also responsible for providing a picked corps of the best fighters. This elite unit was rumoured to provide security for none other than the brother of the Median Emperor Artaxerxes, the rich and powerful Cyrus. Xenophon watched in fascination as a group of retired soldiers from a Terran world he had never heard of signed up. Each wore the same armour as the Laconians, but their headgear and colours were different. They all wore the traditional breastplates and must have been men of substantial experience to wear their gear openly.
Must be from a Laconian colony, unless they are mercenaries that have fought for the Laconians in the past? he considered.
Glaucon, on the other hand, was barely interested in the proceedings. He looked the worst for wear, having downed double the amount of alcohol he had intended, just six hours earlier. Though he was slower than normal, his mood did seem to have improved since his outburst about Clearchus back in the bar.
“Where is Roxana?” asked Glaucon through misty, sick-looking eyes.
“No idea, she was supposed to meet us.”
“Running late, nice.”
“I doubt that,” said a concerned but also very confused Xenophon.
Glaucon watched something off to the side of the room with suspicion. Xenophon tracked his gaze towards a slightly damaged metal bulkhead around which were a number of cases, each stacked haphazardly on top of another. Two guards walked past and stop to speak with a man. They were busy chatting, and one of the guards pointed towards them.
“Who is that?” asked Xenophon.
“I don’t know, but I’ve been watching them for the last minute. He’s been asking questions, and he’s looking for somebody.”
“Bounty hunter, must be,” said Xenophon. “You think he’s looking for us?”
Glaucon shrugged. “Maybe, do you want to wait and find out?”
Xenophon tilted his head to one of the doors further along where two odd creatures were speaking. They had the look of Mulacs, the famed pirates and mercenaries, but with much darker skin. He moved past them. Glaucon followed, doing his best to fit in. He was bigger than the average and drew attention in a crowd. They entered a room where a dozen people played a holographic game on a large circular table. Two armies were arrayed, each with primitive armour and weapons from ages past. Xenophon was intrigued and stopped to watch, only for Glaucon to grab him and push him away and into the shadows.
“I thought you were the smart one. We need to keep a low profile and get on a ship, fast! Did you see the announcement board coming in here?”
Xenophon shook his head.
“There’s a list of the most wanted from Attica, and we’re listed as terrorists. There’s a price on our heads.”
Xenophon waited. He looked confused but said nothing. Glaucon couldn’t tell if it was worry, fear or simple confusion. Then he smiled.
“How much?”
“What?” Glaucon answered angrily.
Through the door walked the stranger, flanked by two men in long black coats. All of them wore tall hats like something from Ancient Earth’s past. It was then that Xenophon spotted the firearms being carried by all three.
Weapons, this isn’t good.
They stopped in the middle of the room and looked about. Xenophon started talking with Glaucon, doing his best to not look suspicious in the darkness of the room.
“I’m looking for a couple of escapees, terrorists from Attica.”
The man held up a display unit with images of two men showing prominently. One of the men looked up at the bounty hunter and also a sideways glance to Xenophon. He shook his head and snorted.
“Get the hell outa here. This is for mercs, not some political prisoners.”
The man looked down to his game and continued. Xenophon did his best to slow his heart rate, but he could feel the blood pulsing through his body.
The three men moved further inside the room and proceeded to work their way around. They checked each alcoves, table and seating area thoroughly. They came to one table where a man refused to look at them. He was busy reading something on a display.
“Sir, look at me,” said the bounty hunter.
The man said nothing, not even twitching at the sound of the hunter pulling his pistol and cocking the mechanism.
“By the by-laws of this station and Krakow Agreement, I am ordering you to face me!”
The man looked up slowly, revealing a scarred face and thick beard. The bounty hunter stared carefully at him, mentally checking his details against those on his file. It seemed to take an age before he stepped back and replaced his firearm.
“Thank you, sir, just a routine check.”
Footsteps announced the arrival of the mysterious blue-haired girl. She rushed inside and looked about as if trying to find someone. She spotted Glaucon but didn’t seem to acknowledge his presence.
“There’s trouble outside, some escaped Alliance rebels or something!” she said excitedly.
The bounty hunter moved passed her and out through the door. His two accomplices followed directly behind him, drawing their weapons and checking them. As they left, the girl tapped her head in mock salute and then danced away. As Xenophon and Glaucon looked at each other in surprise, she popped her head back around the door and towards them.
“Well?”
Xenophon moved first and approached her as discretely as he could.
“We met, last night.”
She laughed at his odd introduction.
“I’ve signed up with the Laconians, under Teleklos. You looking for a crew?” she asked.
Xenophon looked to Glaucon who seemed more concerned at the return of the bounty hunter than what she had to say. He turned back, but she was already making to leave.
“Look, I saw you both and your friend in action last night. If you’re looking for a good crew, you’ll want to work with the Laconian commanders. They have the best gear and training.”
“What about Xenias?” Xenophon asked.
“Xenias? He’s a showman. Yeah, you might make more money, but are you here for that or to stay out of the public for a while?”
“Why do you care?”
“Let’s just say I’ve heard rumours about trouble back home. All isn’t what it seems, Xenophon, son of Gryllus. If you’re interested, meet at Hangar seventeen in twenty minutes, and don’t be late, the last recruits are signing up.”
Xenophon tried to chase after her, but two more men entered the room. He moved back to Glaucon and the shadows.
“What do you think?”
Glaucon looked around and back at him.
“We need information and that means time and money. Alliance space isn’t safe, and neither is here. Either we find a way off this rock, or we hand ourselves in. I don’t know about you, but I want some payback. Your father was killed, and a warrant is out for us.”
Xenophon smiled grimly.
“Agreed. We sign up for the first ship we find. We get out of here and make enough money to return to Attica. But we go back on our terms.”
Glaucon nodded in agreement.
“What about Roxana?” he asked.
“You’re kidding, right? You try holding her back from another lucrative contract!”
The hangar area was on the other side of the station and far from the recruiting areas being used by the other merc outfits. The distinctions were obvious. For starters, there were over twenty Laconian soldiers, all in full battle attire and watching their equipment carefully. The second even more obvious sign was that an armoured transporter sat in the hangar. It was large enough to carry thirty or more people and looked very heavily armoured. Multiple turrets instantly marked it out as a military vessel. Unlike normal Laconian vessels, however, this one was marked up with the personal symbols of a man, presumably the Laconian officer in charge of this contingent. Xenophon made for the group of soldiers, but Glaucon pulled him back.
“Look, I’m sorry about last night. If we’re going to do any paid work for mercs, I agree with you, it would be best to stay with the professionals. The last thing we need is to get dumped on some crappy freighter when we could have worked with professional crews, better weapons and military ships. Just let’s try and not end up on his personal ship, okay?” explained Glaucon.
Xenophon nodded politely.
“No problem, hey, they probably won’t let us in anyway, and if they did, do you think they would even let an ex Alliance officer serve on one of their sacred Titans?”
“True,” replied Glaucon.
There were only three more people in front of them, and they were being processed with alarming speed. Glaucon was about to speak when a gap appeared in front of them to show a Laconian officer waving him through.
“You military?” asked the soldier.
Xenophon nodded but said nothing. The soldier turned his head and looked to Glaucon.
“What about your friend?”
Xenophon answered before his friend could say something he might regret.
“We both served in the Alliance Navy.”
The man raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“A little young aren’t you?”
Xenophon wasn’t quite sure what to say when Roxana pushed past them.
“They’re with me. We crewed on the Valiant. I’m Lieutenant Roxana Devereux.”
The man looked at the three of them but didn’t check anything on his computer system. The harder Xenophon looked, the more he realised the man didn’t have any electronic devices near him. It was as if he was just giving a simple face-to-face interview.
“Valiant, huh? I didn’t think anybody made it off her?” said the man.
“Not many, but some.”
“Okay, you’ll do,” he answered and turned to point to a series of doors behind him. “Take the second door, and join the rest of the potentials. Next!”
The three looked at each other, all surprised that they had reached this stage without any trial or test. Roxana moved first and made straight for the door. The other two quickly followed, not wanting to hold back in case the man changed his mind.
“You got my message, then?” asked Xenophon as quietly as he could.
She ignored him and pushed open the door to reveal a small room with about twenty people inside. They were an odd mixture, mainly human but all rough and angry looking. Some of the men wore old military uniforms, others security guards and at least half in scruff civilian clothes. Xenophon leaned towards her and whispered.
“Not exactly special forces, are they?”
“And you are?” she whispered back.
Glaucon did his best not to laugh, but a large Laconian soldier pushed inside the room, bumping him slightly as he move inside. Behind him moved the blue-haired girl from the night before. Two more soldiers followed who then closed the door shut behind them. She ignored them and moved off to the side. A man cleared his throat and called out from the front.
“My name is Lochagos Teleklos, and I am here to recruit experienced mercenaries to join the stratiotes in the Armada.”
The audience of prospective recruits quietened down as they listened to the words of the Laconian soldier. Xenophon was probably the only person there that even realised a Lochagos was a military rank, the leader of the Lochos. This was a particular type of formation used by the Laconians. To the best of his knowledge, it was used for a force of around three hundred warriors. Not a large amount by any standard, but when combined with light infantry it was a force capable of a great variety of missions. He could only assume Teleklos was looking to bolster the numbers in his own small force.
“As you already know, Lord Cyrus of the Median Empire has undertaken a programme of mercenary recruitment for service outside of the Terran worlds. It means you will be technically in the service of a foreign power. This may have implications for your legal status back home. This is an issue for you to examine, not us.”
Xenophon looked to Roxana and Glaucon who appeared disinterested in the comment. It might not worry them, but to Xenophon it meant another barrier to be broken before he could redeem his name and avenge his father.
Like our status on Attica could get any worse!
“It is a massive military operation to clear a number of threats, ones that are causing problems to both people and the main trade routes. The campaign will be a rolling offensive to clear out pirates, raiders and a number of alien incursions into Median territory. This is where the bulk of the raiders are hiding out, and that’s why this is a commercial volunteer operation rather than a military one. As you might expect, Artaxerxes and his Imperial forces wouldn’t look too kindly on a Terran operation on their own soil. This will be paid for out of the treasuries of the Empire. The money is good, damned good, but the risks are equally high. There are stations, ships and colonies that will need to be pacified, and we expect there will be casualties.”
He stopped for a moment and looked at the faces of the eager volunteers. They were hardly Laconian soldiers, but there was much experience amongst them. He spotted the blue-haired girl and paused, perhaps recognising her from the inevitable report of the previous night’s events.
“Now, it is important that you understand this is not a Laconian operation. Thousands of mercenaries are flooding the market in the hopes of getting in on this conflict. Our contingent will not be the biggest, but it will be led by Laconian professionals and include a good percentage of Laconian soldiers. This will give us the edge and the best fighting force in the Armada. General Clearchus is in charge of the military operation, and contingents from most Terran worlds are supplying forces. We are providing one thousand heavy infantry and eight hundred light infantry for the operation. Our heavy infantry are mainly volunteers from the Laconian military. We still need volunteers to help fill the light infantry role, as do the contingents from the other worlds and colonies. Dukas Xenias, the Arcadian, is also looking for recruits for his stratiotes as well as his spatharios. If you join my group, you will support the heavy infantry with light armour and weapons, skirmish and provide tactical reconnaissance in battle. Warships and transports are being provided by Pythagoras and Tamos, the two largest private military contractors in the Terran territories.”
Teleklos paused for a moment and waved for a group of four soldiers to come to the front. As they moved, Glaucon placed his hand on Xenophon’s arm and leaned in.
“You sure you want to do this? It’s not like we’re going away for a few days. This could be months of work, and it looks pretty dangerous.”
“You’re worried it will be dangerous?” answered a bemused Roxana.
He grimaced at her feigned insult.
“Of course not. This just isn’t the kind of thing we were looking for. We came out here because there was nowhere else to go. Now we’re talking about joining some mercenary adventure for fame, money and glory. Is that what you want?”
Xenophon smiled at him.
“I don’t know about you two, but the sound of a little fame, money and glory has a rather nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
Roxana beamed at them both.
“I especially like the money bit.”
Teleklos cleared his throat once again and extended both of his arms so that he drew attention to the soldiers.
“These are mercenaries, not Laconian soldiers. You’ll note they are wearing some Laconian armour that has been loaned to us by our government. All four of these men have served in border skirmishes with the Alliance. But since their fall, our friends have found work hard to come by. These men have earned decent money in the past and have fought well. This oration will earn each of you ten times what these men were paid to fight against the Alliance. Now, as you have been listening to me, each one of you has had a full and detailed background check performed. As a Laconian led unit, we are not interested in your past, unless you have any known history that could compromise this unit. Two of you have failed these checks, the first because both of you have robbed Laconians installations in the past and second, because you have killed Laconian civilians in previous operations.”
He pointed towards two men near the front.
“Both of you, out, now!” he roared.
Neither of the men hesitated, and in seconds they were out of the door. Teleklos looked back to those that were left and smiled.
“Now, we are due to leave in three hours, and I believe you are all ready to join my contingent. This is your last opportunity to turn away. Once you board this transport, you are signing yourself up as an official mercenary on Cyrus’ expedition. The commander of your contingent will deduct twenty percent of your earnings to help pay for equipment, weapons and supplies. This is non-negotiable. Those of you that come with us will be properly briefed upon arrival with our ships. It is there that you will be assigned a unit and ship. Some will serve with me, others with Xenias and maybe some with the other Dukas.”
He stopped and looked about the room, watching each of the new recruits. Xenophon was convinced he spent more time looking at him, even so he said nothing else and continued looking before finally nodding in a self-satisfied manner.
“Very well, welcome to the Armada.”
It took a week for the ship to reach the rendezvous with the rest of the Armada. They met at the well-travelled refuelling point at Tarsus. The military transport, their home for the last week, moved in a tight formation with another dozen similar vessels. From inside, they were afforded clear views of the assembled ships. At the centre was the mighty hulk of the Laconian flagship, the Titan LLS Valediction. Dozens of other vessels moved around it, the vast bulk being the heavily armoured assault carrier. These antiquated ships were used by many of the Terran colonies and formed the backbone of all human led military interventions.
Xenophon, Glaucon and Roxana waited near one of the many viewing points on the ship and gazed at the flotilla. A number of others stood by and watched, including Tamara, the blue-haired girl from the station who had become friendly with their small party. They were all still wearing the clothes they had brought with them, and there had been nothing other than news and shipping information on the journey.
“So, are you all ready to join the adventure, then? You know we get our first payment at Tarsus, right?”
“Why Tarsus?” asked Glaucon.
“That is where Clearchus is waiting. The supply ships will give us our gear plus distribute payment to those going along. Don’t forget, the leader of our unit gets to keep twenty percent.”
“Suits me,” said Xenophon. “It’s about time we got some money.”
Another group of three wandered over. Glaucon spoke to them first, and Xenophon joined them. Once busy, Tamara looked over to Roxana to get her attention.
“You said you’ve done operations like this before?”
“What do you mean?” she replied.
“Mercenary work.”
“Oh, not really. I’ve worked on a few bases, the odd ship. Mainly security jobs, protection, escort, you know the kind of thing. It wasn’t easy finding work after the surrender. People like me were on wanted lists for months,” she said and then stopped. There was something about Tamara that didn’t seem right. “Wait, I thought you’d been doing the same thing?” she asked, a little confused.
Tamara looked to the ships and said nothing. The others continued talking with the other volunteers. They were talking about weapons, at least that was what it sounded like from where she was stood. Roxana moved to the young woman and stood next to her, trying to appear as friendly as she could around somebody she knew very little about. She waited a little while longer before asking her.
“What happened to you?”
There was a short pause before Tamara turned her head slightly. She scratched her forehead before speaking.
“It’s a long story, but I’m sure you don’t want to hear it.”
She turned so that the back of her head and her bright blue hair faced Roxana. It seemed her attire was fairly limited. She was still wearing her battered leather jacket and denim clothing. Roxana looked down at her long boots and noticed they were in a much poorer state than she had first thought. From a distance she looked like a tough, dangerous woman, but the closer she stood the more girl-like she became.
“Look, we’ve all been there. Do you think it was easy for me to leave everybody behind? My family, friends, even my career? I had prospects in the Alliance Fleet, promotion and decades of service ahead of me. Next thing you know, I’m on the first ship out of there and looking for work, just like those two.”
Tamara looked to Glaucon and Xenophon for a moment. They were both still engrossed in their discussion, but it seemed to be turning into an argument. That, or one of them was just being surprisingly passionate about something as mundane as a sword. She listened for a minute, intrigued by the detail and interest.
“Look, I’ll agree with you that the body shields are indispensible equipment. But you have to agree that the Laconian use of the shielding is much more efficient,” said Xenophon, the implication being they had already discussed this point.
“Yeah, but what about the weight? It’s not just the projector. The generator gear adds over twenty kilograms to the equipment carried. It will slow you down, so why bother with the close quarter weapons?”
Glaucon was watching with a bemused expression on his face. He was certainly bigger and stronger looking than Xenophon, but what he had gained in bulk he lacked in imagination or intellect, at least that was how is seemed to Tamara.
“I don’t understand. Explain again the difference between Laconian and Alliance soldiers,” asked one of the new arrivals.
Glaucon raised an eyebrow at the question. Tamara looked at him and back to Xenophon who seemed to relish the question. It seemed he was made to argue, or perhaps he just liked to hear his own voice, she thought.
“Alliance soldiers had similar armour and weapons to the Laconians. In battle, they would place a number of body shield generators on the ground to provide static defences. This gave them cover from high power weapons, including plasma and pulse rifles. To move, they would have to pack up the gear and take it with them, or leave it behind. This is why Alliance troops often take additional vehicles or engineers to carry and deploy the generators. The side effect is that Alliance troops need substantial support troops and are slow to move. They are powerful in defence but suffer against more mobile or powerful enemies.”
“And the Laconians?” asked the man.
“They train, all of the time. They are physically stronger and fitter than any Terran military. Their heavy infantry carry the shield generators with them, actually on their backs as they fight. They wear the projectors on their arms to create a half shield in front of their bodies. That’s why they can move into close range in battle without sustaining heavy casualties. In their left hand they carry the shield projector, and in the right, they carry the Asgeirr-Carbines.”
A woman, a short, stocky mercenary wearing a dark grey jumpsuit with an odd bandolier running along her shoulder, snorted at his comments.
“You’re telling me the Laconians go into battle carrying their shield generators?” They would collapse in an hour.”
“You obviously haven’t met one before,” said Glaucon.
“He’s right. If you’d met a Laconian warrior, you would see that they train all the time to carry this heavy equipment and not just carry it. They are expected to be able to fight in hand-to-hand combat with their pulse carbine at the same time.”
“But why?” asked the first man. “Surely with modern weapons it is smarter to pick off targets at range. Why bother advancing on them with all this heavy equipment, just to use closer range carbines. Why not rifles?”
Xenophon indicated towards one of the half tables near the window. The group moved towards it and sat down. Tamara watched with interest as Xenophon laid out a number of glasses.
“Okay, this is the Alliance defensive position. It is a fort, defended by a hundred soldiers. They are all armed with standard issue rifles. At points along the perimeter, the shield generator creates an impenetrable wall from which behind they can fight from. The Laconians arrive and advance on their position. They take heavy fire, but their body shields absorb the damage and allow them to close to point-blank range. That is when they move in and attack with their Asgeirr-Carbines. Have you ever seen them?”
Tamara smiled to herself, and she understood the point Xenophon was making. The group fell silent, none of them willing to admit they had never actually seen one of these fabled weapons. She strolled towards them and placed her hands on the table.
“I’ve seen a Asgeirr-Carbine. There was one for sale on the black-market a few months ago. It went for a very high price.”
“Really? What was it like?” asked the woman.
“It fits in the fist and lower arm and combines a razor sharp blade and a cut down pulse carbine. The entire unit is compact and very light. Apparently, the range is poor, but it is very powerful, and the blade can punch through most armour.”
She turned, left them to their discussion and approached Roxana who was still waiting along the glass. She looked out at the ships with her. She had relaxed a little, perhaps partially down to joining in with the conversation, or maybe she had just needed minute or two to think. She looked to the woman.
“I ran away, a long time ago. I fell in with a group of mercs from Arcadia, a rough bunch. But they did show me how to collect bounty on criminals. I worked with them until last month. Since then I’ve been looking for a new home.”
Roxana considered her comment for a second.
“Home? You chose to join a mercenary task force as your new home?”
Tamara shrugged, almost smiling.
“At least this is regular money, somewhere to sleep and food and clothing supplied. I was a few days away from having to offer my services to one of the pleasure barges.”
Roxana shook her head in irritation.
“Why not go back to your parents?”
She laughed in response.
“They don’t care. From when I was little, they sent me away to boarding school. They were never happier than when I was away. I promised I would never go back, not after the last time.”
“What happened?”
Tamara shook her head. It was obviously a topic she would not be discussing, not yet anyway. The two looked back to the window and the arrayed ships. They were now much closer and could see the details and weapons fitted to the Laconian Titan. They were interrupted by the sound of the ship-wide sound system.
“We are approaching the Valediction. Orders from General Clearchus are to bring in all new recruits to one of the assembled Titans for processing and selection. We will be docking with Olympia, the renegade Titan from Arcadia, commanded by Dukas Xenias. He has the largest contingent of warriors in the Armada. In seven minutes please ensure you have all your belongings ready for disembarkation.”
Xenophon said his goodbyes to the rest of the recruits and headed towards Roxana and Tamara, closely followed by Glaucon who was torn between joining them and gazing at the great shape of the Laconian Titan.
“We’re going aboard that thing?” he asked rhetorically.
“Looks that way,” answered Tamara. “What I don’t understand is how they managed to get a Titan in the fleet.”
Xenophon looked through the window before moving back to Tamara.
“A Titan? Haven’t you seen the roster? We have four Titans, including one from Laconia.”
Tamara looked confused.
“What’s the problem?” asked Roxana.
“Well, I was under the impression the Titans were some kind of epic ship, the kind of thing no government would lend for somebody else’s operation. Why are the Laconians giving one up?”
“Good question,” said Xenophon. “Either way, we’d better get ready. You heard what the Arcadians said yesterday about the tests when we get there. Last thing we want is to get stuck with cooking detail.”
The group moved away from the viewing area and along the corridor. It was wide rather than tall and designed to hide much of the internal ribbing and bulkheads. The ship was almost aesthetically pleasing from the inside, apart from the sections used to stow spare equipment and weapons. Like all other vessels heading to the Armada, this one was carrying both people and supplies. They moved into a larger waiting area where a larger group of recruits waited. There was an obvious distinction between the ex-military and those looking to make a quick bit of cash. It wasn’t just the physical size and fitness levels of the professionals, it was also the way they held themselves. Xenophon and his group entered the waiting area and found a place to sit and strap in.
Roxana moved next to him on one side and Glaucon and Tamara sat opposite, facing them both. They looked at each other. The journey was ending, and once they reached the Titan, they could expect a new life of training, hard discipline and danger.
“You ready for this?” asked Roxana.
Xenophon nodded eagerly.
“Yes, I think we all need this. My contacts on Attica have come up short, and with no more money, they simply aren’t interested.”
“What about the information my contacts in the military sent over?” asked Roxana.
He shook his head.
“People just aren’t talking. Somehow, Erika Montoya and her cronies have managed to get in with the leadership of the re-instated democracy, and they are hell bent on capturing and trying anybody tied in with the old regime.”
“It’s worse than that, you heard what happy to Antonia, my friend from the city. Her brother was working for the city security forces. The entire family has been arrested, and somehow he died in custody before he could be tried.”
Xenophon nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, convenient pattern. I don’t know about the rest of you, but if I’m going to get anywhere with Montoya, I’m going to need to be prepared, and that is going to cost money.”
“A lot of money. At some point, we both will want to head back to Attica, and I’m not doing that without a couple of bodyguards.”
Tamara chortled to herself, apparently not in the slightest bothered that the others could hear her. She looked up to see Roxana, Xenophon and Glaucon staring at her with a stoic line of serious faces.
“What?” she asked innocently.
“You think our situation is funny?” asked Xenophon.
Tamara straightened her back and was about to speak but was interrupted by the loudspeakers.
“Docking procedure started, please remain in your seats,” said the dull voice. Tamara looked back at them, each awaiting her answer.
“Look, I thought your world was supposed to be this glowing beacon of democracy and tranquillity. Hell, half the people I know keep telling me how they wish the Alliance would be reformed as it was. They are all desperate to reconnect with the old mother country.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not like that anymore,” said Glaucon bitterly.
Xenophon, however, leaned forward.
“Tamara, they might think that, but in reality, Attica was never a place of tranquillity. Democracy can be dangerous, and our form put a lot of power into the hands of the citizens. They are fickle and volatile, quick to anger and vicious when pushed.”
Tamara nodded, noting the passion with which both men spoke. It was clear the trouble on Attica were more than just a simple, local problem. Neither really wanted to be on the transport, and it was just as likely they had no real interest in being mercenaries.
Maybe we have more in common than I thought.
A loud crunch followed by several bursts of gas, probably steam, erupted from the ceiling pipes. Tamara looked worried, but Roxana placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder and spoke quietly.
“Don’t worry, it happens quite often. A landing on a ship producing a gravity field this strong can put a lot of strain on the vessel as it lands. It isn’t like the old days of zero-gravity in ships.”
Red lights flashed along the one door near the first airlock seal. Several more thuds and blasts of steam poured from various parts of the transport, but after Roxana’s explanation, they seemed unperturbed. The lights increased in tempo until staying fixed. A loud hiss erupted around the frame, and the airlock itself opened to a cloud of vapour. It took several seconds to clear before revealing the secondary airlock that was already opened. The speakers voiced one final message.
“You may now leave. Please check you have removed your personal items. All transports will be leaving in four hours.”
Xenophon released his strap and stood up. He stretched and grabbed his small bag containing all his remaining possessions. Several passengers moved to the airlock, and he fell in behind them. Glaucon followed, and several more passengers arrived, forcing the rest of their group to the back. It didn’t take long to move through the narrow doorway and into the landing bay inside the ship. Xenophon emerged from the door and stepped onto the solid floor. The bay itself was unlike anything he had ever seen before. It looked more like a giant cave than the bays he’d seen on other ships. He glanced back to find Glaucon stood staring at the same. The rest of the passengers continued past them both.
“Have you ever seen anything like it?” asked Glaucon.
Xenophon shook his head. The walls were rough in finish, but he knew this was a side effect of the hardened material used in its construction. A dozen transports, each of similar size to the one they had landed in, were laid out in a loose line. Scores of new arrivals moved out in long columns and made their way to what looked like a large security checkpoint. A group of half a dozen potential recruits walked behind them and back onto the ship. They looked bruised and tired as if they had just emerged from some gruelling ordeal. Roxana and Tamara reached them both and tried to get them to move.
“Come on, we need to get through clearance. Apparently, they are turning some away.”
“What?” asked Glaucon.
“The one guy, him over there,” said Tamara as she pointed to the man in question. “He said they wouldn’t take him because he’s on a security risk list.”
“That’s just great. What are the chances we’re on it?” muttered Xenophon.
“Let’s go and find out. Either way, our transport is leaving soon. We need to know, one way or the other.”
They moved away from the transport and joined the large queue of prospective mercenaries. It was a good opportunity to examine the interior of the mighty ship. The Titans were famous, not just for their rarity, but also their ability to operate as self-contained fleets. There were not just transports in this part of the ship. There were over thirty heavy fighters as well as landing craft, gunships and bombers. It was a veritable mobile fortress.
“Where are you from?” asked a scruffy woman. She must have been in her late twenties and wore a pair of well-worn overalls. Her accent was thick, nothing like the gentlemanly voices of Glaucon and Xenophon.
“Uh, Attica, you?” answered Xenophon, unsure as to the reasoning behind her question.
“Ah, Alliance mercs then. We’ve got a couple of yours with us. I reckon we’ve got volunteers from every Terran system. You joining the infantry?” she asked.
Xenophon glanced to Glaucon, and he just shrugged. Xenophon sighed at his friend’s complete lack of help. He looked back to her.
“We don’t really know. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
The queue was moving quickly, and from where they were stood, it was very clear that prospective mercenaries were being split into two main groups. Xenophon tried to determine what each group had in common, but it was very clear.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” asked Roxana.
“The groups?” asked Glaucon, also concerned at what was happening.
There was no more time to discuss it further as they were now at the security point. The guards were not regular military, but they were armed with a variety of heavy weapons. A man with the mark of a sergeant approached.
“You all signing up together?” he asked as he glanced at the group of four.
Xenophon nodded.
“Yes, Sergeant, we’re looking for mercenary work in the expedition.”
“No Sergeant here, son. I’m a Dekarchos in this operation. Now, do any of you have experience with the heavy infantry?” he asked, giving special attention to Glaucon who was undoubtedly the largest of the group.
“No, most of our experience is with the Alliance Navy,” explained Roxana.
“Alliance, huh? Well, I guess that means no to the heavies. We don’t need any more crew or technical staff. Right now, we’re looking for heavy infantry and a small number of skirmishers, light infantry and support troops. Interested?”
Xenophon glanced back to the other three, but they clearly had no problem with his offer. He looked back to the Dekarchos and nodded.
“Good, take the door to the right and drop your gear off. You’ll be issued with fatigues and prepped for your selection.”
“Selection, I thought you’d given us the options?” asked Tamara.
“Options? You misunderstand, Miss. We choose where to send you, and right now we don’t know what you have to offer. The transports leave in four hours. Before that, you’ll know if you’re staying or leaving. Dukas Xenias is looking for bodies to fill out his two thousand troops, and more than anything, we need front-line combat troops. If you can’t use a blade or fire a weapon, then we can’t use you, understood?”
Tamara nodded, but there was a look of doubt on her face.