“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.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Roxana and the surviving Night Blades had so far held off two assaults. The arched entrance had fallen nearly half an hour earlier, but they had managed to halt the Mulacs in the lower level. It had taken concentrated gunfire, and the use of their last few grenades to hold them back.
Jack, Tamara and three stratiotes dragged a heavy container into position. As they moved it, a dozen Mulacs rushed forward. At this distance, their heavy weapons and thick armour were proving extremely effective. Three made it to the container. The rest were cut apart by rifle volley fire. The first rolled over the top and dropped down behind the group. One stratiotes was decapitated in front of Jack, its blood spraying over his face. He lifted his carbine and fired almost a full clip of pulse ammunition into the second one, yet it staggered on and plunged the spiked bayonet into his chest. He stumbled back, crying out in pain.
“Get down!” cried Tamara, but Jack couldn’t hear over his own voice.
She swung her carbine over her head and smashed it down onto the creature’s arm. It barked in some strange alien language and knocked her back with its left hand. A blast of gunfire from Roxana struck it in the face, and the others withdrew to the nearest cover they could find. As Roxana was helping to drag Jack from the container, another wave of Mulacs charged forward. Roxana dropped the wounded Jack and raised her rifle.
“Stop them!” she screamed.
Xenophon crept out from the tunnel into what looked like a massive generator complex. Pipes, cables and machines seemed to be everywhere. The rest of the unit fanned out. They were all looking for the critical machine or item that would shut down the shield.
“What now?” asked Glaucon.
Dekarchos Calum moved out into the open along with most of the stratiotes. Without shields, they were vulnerable but also hard to spot in the gloom of the cold level. An icy chill blew in from the large arched windows running along the outer rim on one side.
“Wait,” said Xenophon as he spotted a series of massive power couplings. They were several metres thick and ran from a point in the wall to a large junction about thirty metres away. Many other similar couplings led to the same place. Above their heads, they could feel the throbbing of the generator. It continued to send out its deadly pulse that shielded the Citadel for kilometres in all directions.
“I see it!” called out the Dekarchos.
He rushed forward and into the centre of the room. Xenophon watched the direction he was moving in and spotted a structure the size of a ship. It was placed behind a dozen thick stone columns and flashed with red energy. In front of the device were dozens of figures busy working on the great machine. One must have spotted them because a line of yellow lights flashed. Dekarchos Calum and five more stratiotes were cut to ribbons.
“Come on!” Xenophon shouted.
He moved off to the right and hugged the wall. Glaucon and another half a dozen warriors followed close behind. The remaining stratiotes in the open were forced to take cover from the withering defensive fire. They were quick, and their accurate rifle and carbine fire proved effective against the small number of Mulacs. The group led by Xenophon made it around the outside and almost to the pillars when a large metal door hissed open. Stood in the centre was the massive hulk of a Mulac, but this one was different. At almost half a metre taller, he was evidently a commander, and perhaps even their leader. Like the other Mulacs, he was encased in armour but his more far more elaborate and much thicker across the neck and chest.
“Get down!” cried one of the stratiotes, but it was too late. The monster of a warrior leapt between them and swung a mace-type weapon. The first impact struck Glaucon in the shoulder, instantly dislocating the arm and throwing him to the ground. He swung again, and this time struck one of the younger stratiotes. Each impact rang out, and almost like a bar of metal striking a gong. The group of Terrans were poorly equipped to deal with such a beast, especially due to the preference for long-ranged weapons. More noise came from the tunnel as another dozen Mulacs, all carrying firearms and edged weapons, surged inside and overwhelmed the Terrans.
“Get to the pillars!” shouted Xenophon, instantly recognising the benefit the cover could provide. He rolled low and stabbed at the nearest Mulac. His Laconian weapon proved its worth and punched neat holes into the alien’s armour plating. Two more Mulacs spotted his success and jumped over to deal with him.
“I don’t think so!” he snapped and lifted both hands. The built-in carbines proved their worth and cut the Mulacs down in a hail of armour piercing projectiles.
Glaucon lifted himself from the ground and angrily barged himself into the wall. It was a savage and painful way to set his arm, but it worked. He grabbed a fallen Mulac’s mace and rushed into the middle of the melee. His skills, speed and strength quickly told as he felled the nearest two Mulacs. The remaining warriors in the rest of the level now met, and a sprawling melee spread throughout the structure. With roughly equal numbers, it came down to the speed and experience of the Terrans versus the strength, violence and brutality of the Mulacs.
Glaucon and Xenophon pushed as far ahead as they could but were stopped by the remaining Mulacs who blocked their route to the columns, and the prize that lay behind it. Xenophon used the last of his ammunition to cut down two more Mulacs, but there were enough the fill the gap.
“We have to get through!” he cried out.
One of the stratiotes fell near Glaucon’s feet, a Mulac landing on top and smashing away with a mace. Glaucon kicked the beast over and brought his own weapon down on its face. Blood sprayed up and hit him in the forehead and eyes. He twisted and spluttered.
“I know, get through. I’ll keep them busy.”
He lifted his mace high and roared with every ounce of strength he could muster. The surviving stratiotes fought their way to him to form a close knot of defenders. Gunfire continued, but in this level of close proximity, most of the firearms were discarded once their magazines had run dry. Glaucon extended his arms and rushed the nearest Mulacs. He took a round in the shoulder as he charged, but it was enough to force them to the ground and create a small opening in their line.
“Now!” he cried as he struck the hard stone floor. Xenophon didn’t hesitate and ran forward, throwing himself over and into the open space behind him. In a flash, he was past the pillars and in amongst the cables, machines and computers. It was the control centre of the mountain, and the source of the pulsing red weapon. He looked up at the flashing red lights of the great machine, and then down to the only weapons that remained, his two Laconian Asgeirr-Carbines.
What the hell can I do now? He looked around for any sign of a way to shut the equipment down. He could see a main computer display and system at the end of the room. It was on a raised pedestal with optical cables running from behind it and into the system.