Michael Thomas - Gates of Cilicia

Glaucon lifted the plasma cannon and slid in a new magazine. The neon-blue ready light blinked along its side. He looked down to the weapons and equipment they had scavenged.

“I don’t understand. Those grenades won’t do much, even at that range.”

Dekarchos Maxentius placed his hand on Glaucon’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, I think I have an idea about his plan, let’s do this.”

They stayed low and watched the wall, waiting for the moment. The spatharii that had landed earlier were making slow progress, but at a distance of fifty metres, they had been halted by concentrated rocket fire. Not even the shields could protect them completely from such a continuous bombardment. They split into several small groups and joined the Night Blades amongst the rocks and cover. Xenophon looked up at the fortified Citadel. It was clear that on the planet this single structure was the most important location, possibly even the most populated. The short briefing on the flight down had explained that Cappadocia was hit frequently by heavy dust storms, rendering much of the planet uninhabitable on the surface. The fortress was built around a formation of five peaks that provided a natural defence against the elements.

“Here they come!” called out Jack.

Behind them, the two fighters were moving in for another strafing run.

“Now!” shouted Xenophon.

The six warriors jumped down from their position with Jack and Tamara at the front. The shield generators were heavy, but between them they were able to keep moving forward with the shimmering shields in front. As the rest of the group huddled in close, they gave the impression of an ancient mantlet being pushed up to a castle wall. Pulse fire bounced harmlessly from them as they moved closer.

“This is your plan?” shouted Glaucon, irritated at the constant patter of gunfire hitting the generator.

“Just keep moving. We need to get close to the walls,” answered Xenophon.

Gods, I hope this works, he thought nervously.

They were making good progress and reached the halfway mark when the Mulacs must have spotted them. A rocket hit the ground nearby and sent a shower of rock and metal at the flanks of the group. Their armour held, but the impact knocked them all to the ground, exposing them to pulse weapon fire. Maxentius was struck twice in the leg, and Glaucon used his great strength to drag him under the protection of the two shields. The wounded Dekarchos reached up and grabbed Xenophon’s arm.

“You have to keep moving. We’re sitting ducks out here. You’re in charge now, so move it!”

The group tried to continue, but more weapons fire continued to strike around them. Another rocket arced in, and this time heading for their left flank.

“Watch out!” cried Xenophon, but there was nothing they could do. The smoke trail seemed to travel in slow motion as it flew down. Xenophon tensed, waiting for the pain of the strike, but instead three armoured men blocked his view.

Spatharii? he said to himself.

More shields lit up around them as the survivors of the heavy infantry massed on their left to provide extra protection. More gunfire blasted them, but for now they had the protection they needed to push forward. In seconds, they pushed ahead and were even able to drag the wounded Dekarchos into cover behind one of the hundreds of boulders littering the ground. Once at the base of the wall, Xenophon grabbed the plasma cannon and aimed it at point blank range at the base.

“Keep clear!” he barked and then pulled the trigger. At this range, the weapon blew a metre-wide hole in the wall that travelled nearly half a metre inside.

“Tell me you’re not going to shoot your way inside?” asked Tamara, her patience starting to wear thin.

Xenophon ignored her and motioned for the rest of his team to hand over their gear. The spatharii continued providing protection, as well as picking off any Mulacs that leaned over the wall trying to hit the Terrans with their weapons.

“That’s it, and those grenades. Put them all here.”

Xenophon placed all the equipment inside the hole, as well as the spare magazines from the cannon. He then motioned for Glaucon to hand over the pulse cannon itself.

“What?” he asked, looking confused and little annoyed.

Xenophon reached out and grabbed the weapon.

“Just give it up. We don’t have time.”

He took it and pulled open the side panel to reveal the maintenance panel. It was small and consisted of a tiny readout that showed error codes and diagnostic information. He’d only done a few rudimentary sessions on the equipment, but from what he remembered, it used a standard plasma coolant core. With a few minor adjustments, he hit the overcharge button, closed the lid and then threw it amongst the rest of the grenades and magazines.

“That’s it?” asked Jack.

“Yep, it should blow in about thirty seconds,” answered Xenophon.

Roxana looked inside the hole and back at Xenophon.

“You’re kidding, right?”

He shook his head and pointed to the cover near where they had left Maxentius.

“Everybody back from the wall, now!” he cried.

They stepped backwards but continued facing the wall, each shield carefully positioned to try and avoid the worst of the fire. The spatharii did the same, but not even the shields could stop all the fire. By the time they had withdrawn from the wall, another five Terrans lay dead on the ground. From the safety of the rocks, Xenophon looked out at the wall, keeping as low as he could. The Mulacs were running about, evidently concerned at what they couldn’t see.

“Shouldn’t it have blown by now?” asked Jack.

A bright blue flash answered his question. The entire centre section of the wall vanished in a devastating pulse of energy that shook the very ground they stood on. The shockwave was immense, and anybody unfortunate to be exposed was hurled to the ground. Behind the blast came a thick cloud of dust, completely obscuring the Terrans.

“Inside!” shouted the commander of spatharii.

Along the line, the dust-covered soldiers picked themselves up and rushed to the breach. Visibility was down to less than ten metres, and whereas before they had been taking considerable fire, the enemy could no longer see them. Glaucon and Xenophon helped carry their wounded Dekarchos inside the walls and pushed on forward until reaching an open command post. By the time they reached it, the spatharii had already cut down the surviving Mulacs and secured the area. The gunfire dropped to just a flicker, and the dust cloud was already clearing.

“Good work, you might be a Night Blade after all,” said their Dekarchos through a grimace. The pain from his injuries was obviously substantial, but the effect of the drugs built into his suit seemed to be helping, at least a little.

As more of the dust cleared, the damage caused by the overcharged plasma cannon became obvious. A massive rupture had split the wall down through the middle and left a hole nearly fifteen metres wide. Smashed rock and crushed Mulacs lay all around from the force of the impact. Nearly fifty Mulacs were stood in a confused group, surrounded by Terran soldiers who were busy searching them for weapons.

“Look at this place,” said Roxana. She stood up to examine the inner section of the fortress. The wall was a good distance from the base of the fortress and open. Tents and various apparatus littered the area that clearly had been used as the Mulacs forward base.

“I don’t get it. Why did they camp out here instead of inside? Is this it? There can’t have been more than four or five hundred of them in the base, and most were on the wall waiting for us.”

Jack pointed to something in the distance.

“That’s why. If you look carefully, you can see their faces, and they ain’t no Mulacs.”