She tried to lean forward, but the straps held her firmly in place. Glaucon motioned for her to stay there and opened up the lockers containing emergency provisions, food, flares and clothing. There were a number of Medes jumpsuits and overalls. He grabbed a few and threw them over to her. She grabbed the first and held it in front of her. It was light grey and baggy, like something a deckhand would wear while repairing an engine.

"Are you kidding me?"

Glaucon laughed, throwing over boots and a belt.

"There isn't that much in here. It's mainly cold gear, layers and boots. You can stay with the robe if you want. I'm sure storming a fortress will be easy in that thing!"

Xenophon opened up the last of the internal containers. He paused in surprise, lifting out a piece of chest armour. It was light but surprisingly strong. What was really unexpected was that it was shaped for the female chest.

"Nice," Glaucon gloated, enjoying Tamara's discomfort; she so often jibbed and annoyed him.

Tamara shook her head in amusement and unclipped her straps on the seat.

"Nice, just keep passing it all back."

They continued dragging it all out until the small craft was filled with an odd assortment of gear. Most of it was useless, and even Roxana could find few uses for survival rations. The prospect of landing under fire was of far more concern to her than what she would be eating in a week's time. Tamara, on the other hand, had already stripped off her gown to reveal nothing but her pale flesh and more than a few scars. Glaucon and Xenophon looked away, both embarrassed, but Roxana was unable to tear her eyes away.

"Uh, Tamara. What happened to you?"

The young woman pulled on the baggy grey overalls, pulling the belt tight across her waist. It was all less than flattering. She looked to Glaucon and Xenophon, but they had turned their attention to the weapons. On the floor next to her was the chest armour. She lifted it up, groaned slightly as the pain returned to her damaged leg. It wasn't the perfect shape for her, but it at least looked more feminine than the overalls. She held it to her front and nodded to Roxana.

"Can you give me a hand with this thing?"

Roxana pulled the straps, and the armour moved into position. Tamara continued fitting on anything she could find of use before answering Roxana's question.

"You know the kind of work I used to do. Well, it didn't always work out so well. In that business when things go bad, you get punished. I told you I was looking for something better."

She twisted her neck to look at the woman.

"Don't worry, though. Anybody that touched and hurt me got added to my list."

Xenophon heard the last bit as he slammed in a magazine into one of the Medes combat rifles. It was one of their standard issue pulse weapons, not particularly different to the Doru weapons used by the Arcadians and also by Roxana.

"Your list?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

Tamara tilted her head to the weapons, and Xenophon tossed the rifle over to her. She grabbed it and lifted the stock to her shoulder to check the feel. It looked oversized on her small frame and odd assortment of clothing. Once satisfied, Tamara lowered the butt of the weapon to the floor.

"My list is up here," she explained, tapping her head.

"Everybody that has screwed with me so far has paid."

Xenophon wanted to laugh, but the look on her face, and his knowledge of what she was capable of, did nothing but send a shudder through his body. Only Glaucon seemed unperturbed by her words.

"Hey, little girl, I take it we aren't on your list?"

She smiled back at him.

"You're still alive, aren't you?"

They all returned to their seats and pulled on their straps. The counter on the wall might not be in their language, but the dial clearly showed they would soon be on the ground. They watched through their nearest windows at the sight of ship after ship making its way down to the burning city and the great Citadel that pushed up from its core.

CHAPTER TEN.

Citadel of Cunaxa, Cunaxa Secundus.

The last kilometre to the surface was the roughest of the entire trip after escaping from the stricken Rashnu. Flak guns, pulse fire and missiles tore the skies apart as yet more craft swept down to disgorge their warriors into the fray; at least those that managed to avoid the gauntlet of firepower before crashing into the city as burning wrecks. Roxana had taken the controls; against the complaints of Glaucon who was convinced he was the better pilot. She'd manoeuvred them over the last hill range and brought them low of the landing grounds where so many craft had positioned themselves. Lines of tracer fire arced upwards, each stream seeking a target to cut apart. All the others could do was hold on to their seats and pray they would land in one piece.

"Come on, put us down!" Glaucon growled.

"Not yet, I'm taking us to the forward position where Cyrus has established his frontline. The IFF signals show that troops from Meno's ships have landed as well. Cyrus must have persuaded him to help."

She paused for a moment before adding. "Unless you're planning on waiting this one out in the rear?"

Tamara chortled at the implied cowardice, looking away to ignore the glares from Glaucon. The craft shuddered as Roxana lifted the nose slightly to avoid gunfire and then dropped back down. Two rockets narrowly missed them, and then they were over the secondary landing area. They moved over three landed transport just seconds before one exploded in a massive orange fireball that sent metal and bodies flying in all directions. Xenophon watched the destruction as they screamed past.

"Glaucon's right. We need to get down. The numbers aren't on our side."

Roxana banked the craft to the right and aimed directly at the outer walls of the Citadel.

"Okay, I have a drop zone, three hundred metres ahead. Hold on!"

She dropped the nose, jinking from side to side to avoid incoming fire as she closed the distance. It was incredible flying, and even Glaucon kept his mouth shut as they covered the short distance. Roxana said no more until they reached their glide path and started the landing procedure. The vessel deployed landing skids and the main engines reversed thrust at the last moment so that it feathered just before touching down. They made contact with the ground with a loud crunch and then off came their straps. Glaucon was first up and slammed his fist against the airlock seal. The first opened quickly, and he turned to help the others leave the craft. By the time he'd helped Tamara up, the warm air outside had wafted into the vessel.

"Everybody out, now!" ordered Xenophon.

There was no hesitation, and Artemas and the others moved right behind him, stepping out and into the shattered street in the heart of the city. Large numbers of buildings were burning away, but they paled to insignificance compared to the vast bulk of the Citadel of Cunaxa. The massive walls were pockmarked with damage and holes from the opening phases of the battle. Groups of automaton soldiers rushed into the ruins of the city to take cover from the blistering levels of gunfire coming from the walls. At the same time, large numbers of wheeled and tracked vehicles accelerated over the rubble towards a dozen small breaches that had already been opened up. Artemas stopped an officer as he led a company of soldiers to the front. She spoke briefly, and he then continued onwards. She looked to the others.

"Their second wave has breached the outer defences of the first starfort. Taochi troops are fighting through the defenders and making progress. That isn't the main effort though. They are keeping them busy, so the primary force can breach the main walls. Meno and his men are assisting Cyrus at the main wall over there!"

Artemas pointed off to her right where the thirty-metre tall war joined the two star fortresses together. The forts were separated by almost half a kilometre of wall, and right in its centre was a massive arched entrance and thick metal doors that looked as though nothing could breach them. Each side of the arch was protected by a quadruple tower arrangement, and filled with turrets and soldiers.

"Why the wall? There is more open ground and little cover. It's designed that way to create killing grounds."

"True," replied Artemas, upon spotting the arrival of an eight-wheel armoured personnel carrier. It was dull grey, and its front left corner was mangled from a crash or impact of some kind. Unlike most of the other vehicles, it flew the colours of Cyrus' Anusiyan guards. It skidded, and a hatch opened to reveal a smartly uniformed officer. He looked to Artemas and then to the Terrans before speaking in a clipped accent and almost flawless English.

"Lord Cyrus asked me to look for any survivors from Rashnu," he explained while looking up to the sky. The smoke was becoming thicker, and visibility had already reduced substantially since they had landed. He looked back to Xenophon, noting his uniform and Terran rank, but the Terrans looked equally surprised to hear the Medes warrior speaking their own language.

"You should come with me to the central command. Cyrus, Ariaeus and Meno are planning the main attacks against the walls. It is the most important part of the battlefield, and he will want you there."

Xenophon nodded in agreement.

"Do it. Didn't you say you knew this place well?" he said to Artemas. "You might have information your uncle could use in this battle."

Glaucon helped Tamara to the now open side hatch of the APC and lifted her inside. The ground continued to shake from the arrival of mortar rounds. They came without warning from the sky and crashed around the assault positions. Most caused little damage, but the fear and uncertainly had an obvious affect on the less experienced soldiers, especially the automatons. Xenophon followed Tamara, but Glaucon grabbed him and stopped him vanishing inside.

"Why don't we just use gunships and lands troops the other side?"

As if to answer his question, they looked up to the sight of a heavy transport carrying upwards of an entire company of automatons. Its under body gun turrets blasted the defenders along the wall as it limped over the lowest point. Over a dozen missiles reached up like contrails from an aircraft, slamming into the thin armour. The left-side engine was torn from the stubby wing, leaving the transport with no effective power and limited lift. Two more rockets struck its underside, each one causing yet more damage to the weakened craft. With a load roar, the remaining engine exploded, tipping the craft over and forcing it to stall. The pilots exhibited incredible skill as they tried to bring it down safely, but it vanished inside the fortress, leaving an ink-black wake behind it as it moved from view. A massive roar quickly followed, and they could only assume it had crashed inside the Citadel itself.

"Poor bastards," Xenophon muttered.

Glaucon looked back to Xenophon with a look of surprise on his face.

"Yeah, okay...Let's get out of here!"

Helping hands reached out to pull them inside the protected interior. It didn't take long, and when the hatch was closed, the commander gave the order for them to continue forwards. Once safe, they accelerated away from the landing zone and joined dozens of other vehicles ferrying troops and equipment to the forward lines. Artemas spoke with the officer for almost a minute. She then moved back to her friends and protectors.

"There is an avenue that runs along the length of the wall. On one side are large numbers of buildings and towers. Artaxerxes has had them all demolished to create clear lines of fire from the walls. Cyrus' forces have taken the street and are fighting to take control of the outer wall. The commander says Meno and his men are setting up artillery positions to clear the breaches before the attack."

Xenophon nodded at this news.

"Sounds good, about time we brought in guns of our own. What about the Emperor, where is he?"

Artemas spoke to the officer, and he nodded furiously and returned to his own computer system. He continued barking orders, and a number of his soldiers climbed up to control a series of gun turrets on the top of the vehicle. Artemas pulled a handle, and a panel moved out in front of them. With a quick tap, it changed to a tactical map of the area around the vehicle. She pointed to the series of structures inside the enemy Citadel.

"The walls and starforts are just the outer defences. The inner section is what we know as the Citadel of Cunaxa. These domes and spires in the centre are the Imperial Quarters. Artaxerxes and his guards will be based at this part of the city. The defences are strong, and he is rumoured to have thousands of his best warriors from across the Empire stationed in there."

"Great," answered Glaucon. "Why not bombard the place from space? We have enough firepower with Cyrus' ships, let alone with the ships from the Legion to wipe out the entire city. Hell, we could probably wipe out the entire planet and kill every one of his commanders. We kill him, and the war is over. Then we just march to Babylon Prime and put Cyrus on his shiny new throne."

Artemas looked to Xenophon with irritation in her eyes.

"My uncle intends to rule the Empire, not conquer it. If he shows compassion to his subjects, he will be rewarded for it. Destruction of the city will create more enemies, and there is no guarantee the Emperor will be killed. Even worse, he might die but we would never know."

She looked to the screen once more and tapped a button. It changed to the forward view from the APC. The road they followed was littered with burning vehicles, yet even more ground forces pushed forward to the positions near the great walls.

"No, for this war to end, Cyrus will need to have his brother in chains for public execution and trial. Anything else, and we could end up with a never-ending civil war like the battle between your own people.

Laconian Titan *Valediction', Cunaxa Nebula A sharp crack like that of a thunderbolt was the first indication that something terrible had happened on board the Titan. It wasn't just the sound from the energy fields around the ship, but the feeling of something resembling a static electric field passing through every crewmember's body. It was quickly followed by continuous alerts and impact warnings from every corner of the command deck.

"Shields are down!" cried Kybernetes Artell.

Strategos Clearchus wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead and looked at the screens himself. He could see the systems starting to fail as well as breaches opening up on their exposed flanks. He turned from the screen and looked at the virtual projection of the unfolding battle. It was as if the Titan was a giant magnet that attracted the attention and weapons fire of every single spacecraft in the sector. He could see the steams of pulse projectiles, plasma rounds and missiles as the Zacynthians turned their guns onto the Black Legion's flagship. The destruction of the Titan would signify potential defeat for the Legion, and therefore the entire enterprise.

Gods, this isn't good!

The image of Chief Engineer Kafa appeared on his personal screen.

"Strategos, I've transferred the remaining power to protect critical areas. The energy fields are limited though, and the armour will have to protect the rest."

Clearchus nodded grimly.

"Good work, Kafa. Do what you can. We will be there soon!"

"Strategos, you need to evacuate the gun decks on the sections I've indicated. These have the weakest armour and are no longer protected with the shields."

Kentarchos Broge Monsimm noted the comments from his position on the command deck and nodded to Clearchus, evidently frustrated that this ship-related issue was wasting the time of their supreme commander.

"I'll take care of that," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Clearchus watched suspiciously as a formation of five Terran and Median battleships managed to get alongside the Titan. They matched his course and speed while putting volley after volley into his flank. The status screens showed the armour plating was being shredded and blasted apart with every impact.

"Strategos, it's Pleistoanax!" called out the Kentarchos.

Clearchus looked to his left and could see the dark shape of the elderly Laconian battleship Damnation. The great vessel moved directly into the centre of the enemy formation and opened fire with its archaic projectile weapons. They were nothing more than electromagnetic railguns, but what they lacked in technology, they made up for with rate of fire. Trails of metal projectiles ripped into the enemy, and almost immediately the incoming fire on Valediction decreased by over a half.

Good timing, Pleistoanax, my old friend.

Clearchus looked back to his tactical display and performed a number of quick calculations in his head. He could see the shield capacitors starting to increase as the firepower decreased against the shields. They had a window, so long as Damnation could keep the enemy ships occupied. The rest of the Legion had stayed almost intact with most of the major ships now through the enemy blockade. The problem was that the slower or damaged vessels were now trailing behind like a long tail. On the side of the screen were a number of indicators that marked the damage to the ship's armour and minor systems.

That must be close enough, surely?

He looked to Kleandridas, his trusted deputy.

"How much further until we can deploy ground forces?"

Kleandridas glanced at the display near him and then checked his own system for the reports from the other ships. He stood with a small guard unit next to the tactical display and had been monitoring the datastreams coming from the planet.

"We will be in range in approximately...seven minutes, Strategos. After that, the rest of the fleet will catch up, one ship at a time."

Clearchus took a deep breath as he calculated how many ships would arrive, and how many warriors he could land in the next few hours. It was a rough calculation, but he reckoned if he started now, he could have most of the Legion on the ground, and within an hour. Even more importantly, he would be able to bring the Laconian heavy equipment to bear for the first time in the campaign. With the money from Cyrus, he'd been able to procure various different engines of destruction, some almost fifty years old but with long and reliable track records.

I just need to get them on the surface!

He nodded in agreement with Kleandridas at his assessment and made the mental decision to move from the space battle to preparing for the drop. It was a minor shift but would require a different mindset, one for which he was much happier managing. Without hesitation, he lifted the intercom to speak with the fleet.

"This is Strategos Clearchus, your commander. The time has come for the Battle of Cunaxa. Load your dromons and prepare your gunships for battle. You will all receive the drop-off coordinates. Once you reach the designated point, you will start drop operations and will continue until every single warrior is on the surface. Topoteretes Kleandridas will send unit landing zones and operational plans to you in the next three minutes."

He glanced at the officers on his command deck and was pleased to see that every one of them was busy managing the ship. There were no idle hands on this vessel, and he was certain it was the main reason they were still alive. He nodded to himself happily and turned his thoughts back to the awaiting battle.

"Lord Cyrus is already heavily engaged on the ground and as expected, his attack has stalled. The reduction of a fortress such as this is the mission the Black Legion was born to do. The plan is simple and consists of four segments. First we will land and quickly stabilise the line. The encirclement of the fortifications is critical to our success. Next the stratiotes will secure the walls with speed and ferocity from the ground and the air. Once they are taken, they will use the walls to provide covering fire into the compound itself. We will unleash a rain of fire of the kind never seen before on a Median world. Under this barrage, our spatharii will carry out the fourth and final stage, to smash our way inside the Citadel of Cunaxa and end this battle. Good hunting to you all!"

He replaced the handset and turned back to Kleandridas and the ship's Kentarchos.

"Get the dromons ready. We're going to end this within the hour."

With that, he stepped away from the tactical display and marched from the command deck, closely escorted by his dekas of Epilektoi. The rest of the officers continued their work, and only Kentarchos Broge Monsimm watched him leave.

Citadel of Cunaxa, Cunaxa Secundus The small group of Anusiyans advanced cautiously, careful to avoid being spotted and picked off by the many turrets and snipers dotted along the massive walls. Xenophon, Artemas and the rest of the group brought up the rear. They'd been forced to abandon the armoured column nearly two hundred metres further back, due to the rubble and destruction. Xenophon didn't mind that so much. He had greater faith in his Terran armour than the thin-skinned vehicles of the Medes. Even better, he liked to be able to see and react to situations. Every second they'd been inside the APC was an opportunity for all of them to be cooked alive inside its metal hull.