Sword of Axia (The Arcadian Jihad) (16 page)

The man rummaged deep in the bottom of his bag. “No, nothing, I’m afraid. I think my section head may have something, do you want me to find out?”

“Urgently, yes. And son.”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Keep your head down, there may be a controlled nuclear explosoin in the next few minutes.”

The man went white. “I’ll find that radiation cream, Sir.”

“That’s a good idea.”

He looked to the front. Blas was looking back. He caught Smetana’s eye and nodded.

“Fire,” Smetana shouted. “Give it everything you’ve got, I want you to drown that plasma rifle in laser fire, don’t stop shooting for anything.”

The no-man’s land in front of them was lit up with their gunfire that seemed to swamp the defensive position that faced them, for a few seconds the enemy gun stopped firing and the gunners ducked down from the incoming fire. Blas was already sprinting towards them, he brought his arm back, the Rescom force held their breath as he ran. The plasma rifle started to fire, he dodged to one side and the stream of high energy pulses smashed past him, the gunner corrected and the gunfire arced back towards him. Every man had only one thought, throw it, get rid of it, chuck the damned thing and get out of there. He swerved again and the gunfire flew past him, narrowly missing his arm that trailed out behind him clutching the grenade. The gunners were learning fast, they anticipated his direction and started to walk a burst of plasma fire which he would run into. At the last second he threw the device and flung himself to the ground. Smetana watched, holding his breath. Would it work, would Blas survive, could he possibly survive? Then the whole world seemed to shake and tremble, a searing sheet of flame soared out from the broken walls of Santuzza and a white intensity backlit the city. It was like an earthquake, a colossal displacement of the ground that seemed to ignore the laws of physics. It was if a giant hand had contemptuously tossed them all to one side. A shower of dirt and small stones shut out the light and covered them with choking dust, then the ground settled again. They looked up, there was no sign of Blas, but the plasma rifle emplacement had disappeared. Smetana surged to his feet.

“Let’s go, men, the city is wide open. Charge!”

They ran forward in a ragged group, there was no defensive fire to stop them now, they hurtled over the broken rubble and spread out into the city. At first there was only Smetana’s immediate force but as word spread that they had made a breach Rescom troops came from around the walls. The trickle of men became a flood, it was almost all over. Laser blasts and screams could be heard where a few Axian diehards made a last stand against the inevitable. Smetana called Max and two of his men to him.

“We need to find Constantine, did anyone see him after the atomic blast?” They all shook their heads. “Right, we’ll start the search now that the battle is taking care of itself. Max, send one of your men to find that damned medic, he’ll need that radiation cream. If he’s still alive.”

They found the site of the explosion. There was no sign of Blas, it was as if he’d been caught in the blast and blown to small pieces, except that they knew it was ridiculous. The directional design of the grenade was such that the only danger to the thrower was with secondary radiation. But where was Blas? They started digging in the rubble, but still there was no sign of him.

“Berg, over here, there’s some sort of a pit, something is moving at the bottom.”

He hurried over to where Max was standing with two of his men. The pit was about twelve feet deep, at the bottom an amorphous, dark shape was moving.

“Constantine, is that you down there, are you ok?”

“It’s me, get me out of here, I need a rope.”

“Thank the stars for that, he’s alive.” He turned to one of the troopers. “You, go and find a line to pull him up. Constantine, hang in there, we won’t be long.”

The man ran off, just then the medic arrived with another man.

“This is my senior officer, he says he has the cream you asked for and he knows about radiation burns.”

They shook hands. “It may not be burns,” Smetana said to him. “Although they were made much safer for the user just before they were banned, the reality is that a fair dose of radiation is always going to be present.”

“The kit I have contains everything we have for radiation injuries. There’s a radiation counter too, I’ll be able to diagnose whether he received a heavy dose.”

The troopers were pulling Blas to the surface, finally he arrived coughing and spluttering and they lay him on the ground.

“We thought you were dead,” Berg said with relief.

“I thought I was dead, when the blast hit it threw me down that pit, I hadn’t noticed it was there, I thought I’d gone into some dark afterlife, something like the old religious hell.”

“We’re all going there, my friend, just not quite yet.”

The senior medic was busily wiping off the dust to expose his skin. “You’re lucky, Mr. Blas, the dust protected you from the worst of the atomic flash, you have minor burns but the cream will take care of them. I’ll give you the drug for the radiation, then I’ll monitor the levels.”

He put his medpack on Blas’ arm and waited two seconds for the sub-cutaneous transfer. His assistant checked the patient’s body. The device bleeped alarmingly.

“It’s not good, but it’s not necessarily bad either,” the senior man said as he looked across. “The drugs will take care of the worst of it, after that it’s a matter of time.”

“Will I feel any after effects?”

“Probably yes, you’ll experience some sickness and your vision could temporarily be affected. But you’ll still be able to function, that won’t be a problem.”

“What about commanding a Battlecruiser?”

“No, I can’t advise it. Things could go wrong at a crucial time and it may be a danger to the ship. You need three months to recover fully, after that you’ll be fine.”

Blas was silent for a few moments. Smetana clapped him on the shoulder. “Look on the bright side, you can take a holiday.”

“No, Berg, not at this time. If I can’t command the Rex Vitas, I’ll so something else. Can you use another man on your squad?”

“You know damn well I can, anyone that can fight like you can is more than welcome. But if you want to join the assassins for a stint, there’s something you should know.”

“What’s that?”

“We don’t expect to survive, that’s the way we fight. Beating these Axian bastards is bigger than any of us. It’s not idle macho posturing, Constantine, we’re a death squad.”

“I can live with that,” he replied grimly.

“Yes, but you may need to die with it,” Max said quietly to him. “That’s the essence of what we believe.”

“Agreed, Max.”

A messenger came out of the city, his face grinning with joy. “They’re throwing down their weapons and giving up, the city is ours.”

A cheer went up from the men. “Anything else for us?” Smetana asked him.

“Yes, there’s a signal from Admiral Rusal, I’ve got the message chip here. It’s coded.”

He handed the chip to Berg. The Hesperian put it in his wristcomm, his eyes narrowed.

“They’ve taken advantage of our attacks here in the Spica System to counterattack Corazon. Our defenses managed to hold them off, but they’ve already taken the moon of Caxas. We’re needed there urgently, if they strengthen their position on Caxas enough they’ll be able to mount a serious attack to take back Corazon. Obviously it’s a priority for them, we know they’re desperate for food.”

He read the next message. “This is about the daughter of Merca Gluck, she was inside Perian guarded by our men, staying as a guest of Sister Serena. An Axian squad slipped in and grabbed her, we chased them but they got away. Our ships tried to head them off before they reached Axis Nova but they lost them in hyperspace and the Axians wound up rendezvousing with their ships above Caxas, she’s being held on their flagship. There’s not much of any interest there for us, if Gluck wants to chase after his wayward daughter he’s welcome.” Berg was looking slyly at Constantine.

Blas thought of the ethereal beauty of Evelyn Gluck. He knew there was nothing he could do if she was held on Axis Nova, but he vowed to fight with his last breath to get her back.

“So we’ll be going back to Corazon, Berg.”

“Yes, that’s what we’ve been ordered to do, straight to Corazon to prop up the defenses. The first job will be to hit Caxas and kick these Axians back to where they came from. You’d better stay here for a couple of weeks until you’re over the worst of that radiation sickness.”

“No, no, I’d much rather be with you. Let’s get this over and done with and beat these bastards, then we can hit them on Axis Nova. I want to kill that bastard Merca Gluck for what he’s done.”

Then he realized they were laughing at him. “What is it?”

Max punched him on the shoulder. “You’re acting like a lovesick space cadet, my friend. Look, it’s quite simple, we’re all going to Caxas and afterwards if we can get the lovely Evelyn back, we will. After all, she’s one of us now.”

“It’s no longer that simple,” Smetana interrupted.

They looked around at the Hesperian, he looked grave. “There was another message. They’ve already sent the reinforcements for their fleet above Caxas, they’re obviously preparing an invasion fleet for Corazon once they’ve secured Caxas.”

“How many ships?” Blas asked him.

“Our spies suggest as many as two thousand. Their flagship is a Heavy Battlecruiser, one of the new Jericho Class.”

He, Axia, executed the priests of the unbelievers on their own altars, and he burned human bones on the altars to desecrate them. Finally, he returned to Axis Nova. The Prophet then issued this order to all the people: "You must celebrate your God Ahura, as it is written in the Scrolls." This celebration to the God Ahura was held in the City of Lyra during the coming of the Prophet. Axia also exterminated the false priests, their offspring and their helpers, and destroyed every vestige of worship to the false Gods, both in Lyra and throughout the planet that is Paradise. He did this in obedience to all the laws written in the scrolls that Axia had found in Ahura's Temple. Never before had there been a Prophet like Axia, who turned to the God Ahura with all his heart and soul and strength, obeying all the laws of Ahura. And there has never been a Prophet like him since.

Excerpt from the Scrolls of Axia – Part IX The Prophecies

They went silent at the prospect of the awesome, overwhelming power of the Axian Battle Fleet.

“They must have stripped out every warship to assemble a fleet that size,” Blas said.

“Without a doubt. If we put together everything we have we can’t manage more than about five hundred ships, we’ll be outnumbered four to one,” Smetana grumbled. “Admiral Rusal is sending a shuttle for us, he’s calling a conference on the flagship to discuss the crisis.”

“Has he got any ideas about how we can tackle them?”

“Not yet. He said something about Guide Tell looking for a miracle.”

Blas grimaced. They cleaned themselves up as best they could in the rubble and filth of the shattered city. A shuttle landed in the central square and transported them to the Rex Vitas. Blas was able to greet his First Officer and assess the way his ship was being run. It was a chance to clean up too, they showered and borrowed clean uniforms and reported to the conference room. Stewards brought in plates of food, they were all starving and there wasn’t time to just sit and eat. Admiral Rusal was at the head of the huge table, looking at a sheaf of documents. He nodded to the new arrivals and carried on reading through the paperwork. Blas guessed it would be lists of logistics, ships, ammunition, personnel and food, all of the pieces in the jigsaw that together enabled a force to fight. There was a bustle at the door and the President of the Rescom Federation entered. They stood but he motioned them to sit.

Guide Tell summed up the situation in a few words, it was far worse than they had even anticipated.

“They’ve caught us unawares. This Fleet means that they’ve literally raped every planet, they’ve taken their food, their troops, their fuel, everything. The people were already hungry when we took Corazon, now they’ll starve. It’s an act of barbarity, but one I’m afraid we have to counter. Now, short of a miracle, how can we fight this? Admiral Rusal, you’re our planning genius, what do you suggest?”

“I’ve already thought it through, Sir. I can only think of one answer. We need to split their Fleet, then use a combined space and ground assault to divert them.”

“Even if you tie up half their resources on the surface, it still means that the other half will outnumber you two to one.”

“Better than four to one, Sir.”

They all nodded, it was a good plan, perhaps the only plan. The conference went on for many hours as Rusal gave each of his ship captains their detailed orders.

“As for the ground assault, Mr. Smetana will lead, Max Biermann as his Number Two and Constantine Blas will act as liaison between the surface and the Fleet. I will arrange transport for our troops from Hesperia and from any outposts where we can spare them. I don’t want to open ourselves up to a back door attack from the Axians, we need to keep some of our troops in place. One more thing, they’re well prepared. The Axians have layered their ground defenses in depth, fortunately they haven’t had time to deploy platforms above the planet, but it is still is a formidable task we have set ourselves.”