Michael Thomas - Gates of Cilicia

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.”

Xenophon moved from cover and in front of his commander.

“Komes, I think we should withdraw from this position. They have greater numbers and artillery on the high ground. Until we can silence those positions, we are sitting ducks.”

The leader of the Night Blades nodded in agreement and turned to walk away when he spotted something behind them. Xenophon recognised his expression. It was the look of defeat, and of a man that had seen the inevitable. He climbed up next to the man and looked in the same direction.

“Gods!” he exclaimed.

From the hills and rocky outcrops about a kilometre away, a low-lying cloud had appeared. On closer inspection, it was actually made up of thousands of individuals.

“Mulacs!” muttered the Komes.

“They must have been in hiding underground. The radiation will have masked them when we landed,” shouted Xenophon.

The Komes watched for only a few more seconds and turned to Xenophon and the rest of the Night Blades. More shells and rockets continued to explode around them as the bombardment continued. The hundreds of other Terran troops were still dragging anything they could find to create more cover. Two units had climbed the ruined walls and were setting up some of the captured Mulac heavy weapons. It was starting to look like a fortified outpost, right in the heart of the enemy camp.

The hunters have become the hunted, Xenophon thought with little amusement.

Komes Pasion spoke briefly on his communication unit as he discussed the situation with Dukas Xenias. It was short between them, and they made a quick, yet troublesome decision. He looked back to his stratiotes.

“Look at them. They will be here soon, and that will leave us trapped. The base of the transmitter spire is only four hundred metres away. Once they are past it, we will be unable to reach the base. We will be surrounded, and we will die. Dukas Xenias will manage the defence. We have other work to do. You all know what has to be done!”

He looked at the peak and nodded to himself, making up his mind.

“We will climb. Night Blades, with me!” he cried.

Without even checking to see what the rest did, he rushed forward and towards the base of the lower mountain. His bodyguards ran after him, along with Jack and a handful of the other stratiotes. Glaucon looked to Xenophon.

“He’s right, you know. If we stay here, we’ll all be dead in a few hours. The only chance we have is to shut off that weapon so that Clearchus and the air support can come in. They’ll annihilate them.”

The Laconian flotilla spread out to avoid the ground fire around the Citadel. The energy field might prevent signals or electronics, but it did nothing to stop projectile weapons from firing through. One dromon took multiple impacts but continued flying, and a black smoke trail was the only sign it had been struck.

“What the hell is going on down there?” demanded Strategos Clearchus.

He looked at the visual display inside his command dromon, but nothing other than the red haze could be seen for up to a hundred kilometres in any direction.

“We can’t see through the field, or send craft through it, Strategos.”

“I know that!” he snapped back angrily.

Kleandridas knew full well that his anger wasn’t directed at him personally. The entire wave of Laconian troops was waiting to move in and assist the Arcadians. Three dromons had already gone down upon moving near the field.

“Can’t we just hit the transmitter from up here?”

“No, Sir. The equipment appears to be based inside the mountain and is protected by substantial turret and missile batteries. Our records show they match known Median configurations.”

“Okay, then we bring in bombers from the fleet, and destroy the mountain with atomics.”

Kleandridas nodded in agreement.

“Yes, that is a possibility, but we will not have them for at least three more hours. Also, what will Lord Cyrus have to say about Terrans using atomic weapons on their sovereign soil?”

Clearchus looked at him as he thought on the options. He knew that the Median Lord wouldn’t give him permission to use his most powerful weapons. If he did so without permission, it would mean his dismissal and possible breaking up of the Armada. Even worse would be the wrath of Tissaphernes and his fleet. Right now, it was one formidable battleship. His intelligence staff had already estimated he had access to just as many ships as the Terrans, but they had no idea where the ships actually were at present. He sighed to himself, angry that he couldn’t strike out at his tormentors.

“Show me the geographical data again, how close can we land?”

Kleandridas pressed a button and changed the view to one of the surface of the planet. A red dome appeared covering the Citadel and everything out to a hundred kilometres.

“We can land on the periphery, but it will take more than a day’s hard march to reach the Citadel. The last signal that came through said Dukas Xenias had cleared the outer wall, but not that the Mulac threat was over.”