Glaucon walked to the left-side bulge and pushed his pulse cannon into position. He loaded in a new magazine.

"Well, we'd better get busy, then!"

Xenophon smiled at his friend, and for the shortest of moments, he felt a sense of calm. They had reached their objective, the great planet of Cunaxa, and their prize was almost in sight. If they could end this campaign today, he could start planning his return to Attica and more importantly, he could put serious thought into undoing those that had wronged him and Glaucon and take revenge for the murder of his father.

"Look, they are starting the attack!" Roxana called out from the other side of the tower. Xenophon rushed over, crouching for a better view. The small extended bulges were only a couple of metres wide and fitted with two vertical slits to shoot through. Fitted on the wall was an activation panel that was switched on, and a small generator field covered the slit with a deflection shield. It was simple but extremely effective, at least Xenophon hoped it was. He looked out through the narrow slit and watched the incredible sight of thousands of soldiers charging the walls. With the tower cleared, there was now space on both sides for the lightly armoured automatons to use grapples to climb the wall. An equal number made for the breaches created by the heavy weapons of Meno, although the great surge quickly turned into a crowd as the bottlenecks of the breaches slowed them down. Movement at the far end of the wall showed the arrival of Medes soldiers. They looked like automatons but wore different helmets and moved with speed and purpose that meant they must be Medes natives.

"Stop them!" he called.

Roxana had already spotted them and sat herself behind the dual pulse cannon mounted in the bulge. She took careful arm and pulled the trigger. The weapon mount shook, but its cradle absorbed the recoil and allowed her to fire a long and extremely noisy burst of fire. From this position on the tower, it was devastating. The one weapon was enough to clear the top of the wall and force the tiny group of survivors to flee to cover. More gunfire erupted from the other side, as Glaucon and one of the Night Blades turned the guns on the other wall. The tower had become a thorn in the centre of the enemy defences.

This might actually work! Xenophon thought, almost happily.

"We've got trouble!" shouted Glaucon.

Xenophon left his position, but the guns continued to fire in his absence. He moved quickly to Glaucon and looked out onto the wall. To the right were hundreds of Cyrus' soldiers, climbing as quickly as they could up the sheer face. On the other side of the wall were an almost equal number of Medes soldiers. They were taking cover behind a series of secondary defences or running into one of scores of access hatches leading into the wall itself.

"Where are they going?"

Artemas was already there and watching carefully.

"I know what they are doing, Xenophon. The rear half of the wall includes armoured walkways. Each section is a hundred metres long and sealed with locked bulkhead doors at each end. From inside the wall, they can move throughout the structure without being seen."

Xenophon shook his head.

"That's great. Can they get to these towers?"

Artemas considered his question for a moment. She'd played in the tower and along the wall as a child, but she couldn't recall the options available to the enemy right now. Loud footsteps caught their attention, and both Xenophon and Artemas moved to the staircase in anticipation of trouble. But the face of one of the Night Blades stratiotes appeared.

"Dekarchos, they found a way in from the lowest level and onto the wall access area. We've barricaded the floor doorway, but they are blasting through it."

Xenophon turned to Artemas. "There's your answer."

With a quick flick of his wrists, he activated the razor sharp blades of his two Asgeirr-Carbines. They pushed out like sharpened projectiles in front of hands and large punch daggers. Glaucon looked to see what was happening.

"No, you four stay here," Xenophon ordered and stepped into the stairs with Artemas. "You have to keep them clear. Once the walls are taken, we can get Cyrus' troops to take over here."

"Good luck!" Glaucon shouted to his friend and returned to his task of blasting every single Medes soldier he could set his sights onto. Xenophon glanced back at Glaucon, Roxana and the two stratiotes still with them, and then he rushed downstairs. It only took a few seconds to cover the distance but jumping into the lower level, he was greeted with a sight of blood and carnage. Three Night Blades stratiotes lay dead on the floor as well as the body of a single Mulac warrior. He'd fought them before on Cilicia and was well aware of how tough they were to kill and how violent they were in battle. Most of the survivors were busy defending the main doorway. The door itself had been blasted apart. A quick glance outside showed a larger group of Mulacs with energised shields over their heads. It was a crude copy of what the Laconians did, and many were still cut down from the gunfire unleashed by Glaucon and the others. Even so, enough made it across to put pressure on the doorway.

Down there!" shouted one of the Night Blades while pointing into the middle of the room. Xenophon turned his gaze down to where a metal plate riddled with holes continued to shake.

"We stopped them once, but they've brought up reinforcements. I bet..."

The hatch blew open with such immense force that the metal plating struck the reinforced ceiling and clattered to the ground. The shockwave threw Artemas, Xenophon and the two nearest stratiotes to the floor. Before any of them could recover, a group of a seven Mulacs jumped from their hiding place, rushing at them. Two more Night Blades were killed, and the survivors were forced to give ground and fall back to the staircase. Artemas was up first, firing a burst from her carbine. She was struck in the shoulder by the fist of a Mulac. Xenophon lifted himself up to one knee, but two Mulacs rushed him and held him down. Unlike Glaucon, Xenophon was only of average strength and could not force his way to safety. He struggled, but it made little difference.

"Artemas!" he cried out, fearful for her life.

Several more bursts of fire came from the staircase, followed by a dull impact to his head. His vision faded, shortly by his hearing. The last thing he could make out was the sound of heavy gunfire.

In the outer limits of the city, the great Legions of Tissaphernes had already smashed through the perimeter. Squads of automatons were in full flight, and much smaller groups of Medes soldiers did their best to stem the tide. As the Laconian reinforcements swept in, it was clear the entire front had collapsed. Mixed in with the wheeled vehicles were the monstrous creations of the robotic domains. Most of them were no bigger than humans, but some of the heavy siege machines were almost twenty metres tall and bristling with building levelling weapons. Their great height made them stick out from the rest of the troops like the spires of some ancient city.

Strategos Clearchus watched the great horde from his dromon with a look of surprise and awe. The shimmering energy fields coming from some of the larger robotic machines projected defences above them to protect the ground forces from aerial bombardment. He almost smiled at the prospect of getting his hands dirty. Never before had he seen such a battle array, and it sent surges of adrenalin pumping through his body. He'd never felt so alive. He opened his mouth to speak but was stopped by a bemused looking Kleandridas.

"Strategos, it is Tissaphernes. He wishes to speak with you."

Clearchus looked at his comrade with a confused look. They were just seconds from their combat landing, and the incoming fire to the dromons was overwhelming. He tapped the button in front of him, and the image of the enemy commander appeared. Rather than keep it private, he tapped the button to the side of the Mede's face, sending it out to every dromon and armoured vehicle in the Legion. The rest of the Terrans would also receive the audio.

"Strategos Clearchus, I see you have arrived on Cunaxa. I have no intention of engaging your forces. I have been given my orders by the Emperor himself to stop this insurrection by Cyrus. Stand your forces down, and I will bypass them and move on to Cyrus. Your consideration will, of course, be fully rewarded with double the payment you are receiving from the traitor."

Clearchus smiled back at him, nodding to his pilot. The dromon swept in low, barely ten metres above the ground and then reversed its engines. The back draft kicked up substantial amounts of dust as they moved in to land.

"We have a job to do here, and so far, Cyrus is the only Medes that has kept his word. You betrayed us on Cilicia, and now you are trying to do the same again."

Tissaphernes looked almost nervous on the video screen. Unlike most of the warriors currently engaged in battle, he wore limited armour and seemed to carry no substantial weapons. He was the kind of military commander that Clearchus hated; someone who sent others to die but did nothing himself.

"Clearchus, you are outnumbered, and I'm afraid, outclassed. It is my intention that after this is over, I will visit the Terran border worlds. Would you rather I came to them as a friend, or as a foe?"

Clearchus looked to Kleandridas. He was already holding onto the rails near the port doorway, ready to leap out and into battle. The rest of the Epilektoi checked their weapons for the last time. Clearchus nodded, fully decided on his course of action. He turned and looked directly into the video screen.

"Neither!"

The dromon made a loud thud and shook violently. They had landed. The side doors flew open, and Clearchus, along with his comrades, streamed out just one hundred metres from Tissaphernes' troops. More and more landed. In less than two minutes, over five hundred spatharii were in action and charging directly into the columns of automatons in the ruins. They met head on in a terrible display of blood, bone, shields and armour.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

Citadel of Cunaxa, Cunaxa Secundus.

The tower that had been so violently defended by Xenophon and his comrades was filled with the dead and dying. Only half of the Night Blades were still standing. The others were either dead or being tended to by the newly arrived automatons. Cyrus entered the structure to see for himself the destruction wrought on both sides for its control. The lowest level was also the widest and housed a small armoury. Xenophon and Roxana both sat on the one side while bandages were applied to minor wounds. Glaucon stood near the doorway, watching every single person that entered, as if he expected them to be the enemy. Dukas Meno was first, followed by two other senior Terran commanders. Finally Cyrus and four of his guards arrived.

"Gods, where is my niece?" They were his first words upon seeing so many dead Terrans and Mulacs.

Artemas stepped away from the side of Xenophon and to her uncle. He grabbed her and pulled her close.

"You're supposed to be well away from danger. What are you doing here?" he asked grimly.

"The tower, it had to be taken."

Cyrus nodded but said no more. Xenophon heard them speaking in their own language and pushed himself away from the wall. The bandage on his left arm was a nuisance but didn't stop him from moving.

"Lord Cyrus, how goes the battle?"

Cyrus looked back to the doorway and the sound of gunfire.

"We have the wall, thanks to you and your people. Xenias and his forces are still in their position. He has requested immediate help to clear the lower levels, so he can assist us. Apparently, the Mulacs are holding part of Artaxerxes' left flank."

He looked inside the tower and the bodies that littered the place.

"What happened here?"

Xenophon pointed to the staircase that led up to the multiple floors above them.

"We tried to hold them, but there were too many. Glaucon, Roxana and Lady Artemas here managed to start a counterattack that drove them back and pushed them to this floor. It was just in time for the arrival of Proxenus and the Boeotians. Apparently, your niece slew the last of the Mulacs single-handed."

A Terran might have been impressed at this news, but Cyrus looked nonplussed at the entire thing. Artemas moved closer to him and spoke quietly.

"What is wrong?"

"Clearchus, he had to divert the Laconians to the Northern flank. He is heavily engaged and cannot assist us, not yet. That means we will have to wait here while Artaxerxes prepares for our final attack. I fear if I wait much longer, I will lose my chance."

The Terran commanders approached him to discuss the battle, and she was forced to move aside. They spoke of the various options, but Cyrus was clearly not interested in her input. As she walked away, she noted that Cyrus had a haunted look to his eyes, like that of a man that had dropped or broken something irreplaceable.

"Artemas!" Xenophon called over to her.

She looked amongst the dozens of Terran soldiers and watched Xenophon walking to the doorway. She left Cyrus and the others and moved towards Xenophon. Artemas looked out of the door and to the base of the nearest wall. More and more soldiers arrived and brought rubble, crates and debris with them to create additional cover along the inner side of the wall. The entire Eastern wall of the Citadel of Cunaxa was now fully under the control of Cyrus and his forces. According to the reports coming in on the Black Legion frequency, over two thousand automatons now lined the battlements. Twice that number waited behind the thick walls for the order to move through the killing ground on the other side and towards the Citadel itself. The battle had calmed, even if just for a few minutes as Artaxerxes troops either surrendered or fell back to the secondary defences. At the same time, Cyrus brought in more troops to ensure his foothold was maintained. Roxana and Artemas stepped outside and moved in low behind the rubble. The Citadel was nearly four hundred metres away and bristling with turrets, weapons and spires. Artemas pointed at the shapes in the distance.

"Look at them, what are they doing?"

Roxana looked in the direction she was pointing in. Legion after legion of Medes soldiers were moving out from the Citadel itself. The gunfire had all but stopped from both sides, and it looked as if something significant was about to happen.

"Lord Cyrus!" Roxana called over to the commanders.

He turned, as well as Meno and Proxenus. They looked equally irritated by her interruption.

"The Medes, they are deploying outside of the Citadel."

Cyrus stormed out from the safety of the tower and through the doorway into the open. A number of his elite guards took up position in front of him and at his flanks, in case a stray round or projectile struck near their commander. A number of the spatharii from Meno's unit also moved near, so they could place a shield generator in front of the group. He watched in confusion as thousands upon thousands of soldiers assembled as if on parade. A subtle glimmer refracted from in front of them, the only way of detecting the immense energy shield that extended out from the spires for almost fifty metres around the base.

"Interesting, it looks to me like an invitation," Proxenus said in a clipped accent.

He was one of the most experienced commanders amongst the Terrans. He was known to work hard to acquire the affection of his men, a virtue that some had taken advantage of in the early stages of the formation of the Legion. At only thirty years of age, he was one of the youngest commanders in the entire force. Meno looked at him suspiciously and then to the enemy.

"An invitation to what, though?"

Cyrus seemed more interested in just one part of the enemy formation.

"Look," he said, extending his hand.

In the centre of the military formation was a slightly different coloured unit. A number of tall vertical standards flew in the brisk wind.

"My brother," Cyrus whispered. There was a hint of reverence in his voice.

Proxenus watched the Medes with a mixture surprise and contempt. Everything he'd seen so far suggested they were far too interested in power, and they were happy to let their emotions run rampant over their lives. So many people had been recruits or forced to fight on behalf of Cyrus, yet he wondered which of the two would actually help the Empire.

Would the Medes even care?

He tapped a button his armour and focused on the amplified image shown on his right eye. The optical stabiliser on his helmet was impressive, and he was able to make out the expressions on the faces of the enemy, even at that distance.

"Yes, it's him," he confirmed, having seen the golden armour of the Emperor himself, and over three hundred of his elite bodyguard. What really caught his eye though, was that there were dozens of different races in his army; the most significant being an entire unit of Terran foot soldiers who were spreading out like a skirmish line in front of the Royal bodyguard.

"Zacynthians!" he muttered under his breath.

More reports flashed into the overlay inside his ancient Corinthian styled helm; everything from casualties to the arrival of more troops came straight to his helmet. Unlike traditional communications traffic, it was quick to analyse, and he could issue basic orders without even speaking. Most of the Terran reinforcements had made it to within a kilometre of the city walls, and it looked like Clearchus was doing his job. He connected directly to the Strategos.

"Proxenus, what is it?" barked the Laconian commander with difficulty. He was involved in some heavy exertions, probably some kind of hand-to-hand combat, if he knew anything about the Strategos.

"We've taken the Eastern wall. I'm bringing up more troops for the final battle."

The next words were almost impossible to make out. Clearchus was shouting to his men at the same time. The last words were clear enough, though.

"Dig in and wait!"

Proxenus nodded, not that Clearchus would be able to see him. He looked to the direction of Cyrus and the other commanders. Xenophon and his comrades still sheltered behind the cover, but not a single shot seemed to be coming in their direction anymore. The air seemed calm for the time being, and if he closed his eyes, he could have been back home on his own world. He shook his head, walking over to Cyrus. He was now speaking with the newly arrived Ariaeus. Cyrus spotted him and nodded as a common courtesy.

"All of Ariaeus' ground troops are in position. Seven thousand warriors, and every one of them ready for the final attack."

"How about you, Dukas?" asked Ariaeus.

The arrogant little rat, Proxenus thought.

"Under a thousand this side of the wall, two thousand more within twenty minutes."

He then looked directly at Cyrus.

"Clearchus has smashed the frontline of Tissaphernes. If he is lucky, the Laconians will force them to a withdrawal."

Cyrus grinned.

"There is no such thing as luck with Clearchus. His people are obsessed with battle, and they see no boundaries. Do you know what he said to me when I asked what the borders of his people were?"

Proxenus sighed inwardly. Although he recognised the undoubtedly impressive military prowess of the Laconians, he certainly didn't like having it thrust down his throat all of the time. Compared to the Medes, every single Terran was a god.

"No, Lord Cyrus, I have no idea," he replied bitterly. In reality, he'd heard this quote so many times, he wondered if any Laconian had ever really said it, or if the words themselves were part of the mythos built up by the Laconians themselves to demonstrate their superiority. Cyrus looked at him, unsure as to whether the Terran really cared.

"All he did was to lift his weapon, point to the star and say, *As far as my reach!'"

Yes, it was the same line he'd heard attributed to a dozen Laconian leaders going back to the ancient times. Even so, he had no doubt that a Laconian army could smash any army it faced, especially one filled with the ranks of the Medes.

They were all were interrupted by the booming cries of the Medes assembled in front of the Citadel. At first, it sounded like a song, but quite quickly it was clear they were calling out a series of rising chants. Proxenus looked closely at each of the units. They appeared to be well equipped and more importantly, in very good spirits. Cyrus seemed agitated and kept glancing back to his own forces lined up and waiting. Two more units of mercenary Taochi had entered the open space behind the walls and lined up as if on parade. Everything that was happening was starting to make Proxenus nervous.

"Lord Cyrus, what is happening? My forces will be here shortly. We need to site heavy guns on the walls and complete the encirclement of the Citadel. This deployment can lead to just one thing."