“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.”