Black Legion: 03 - Warlords of Cunaxa by Michael G. Thomas Page B

Lady Artemas, dressed as always in her tight fitting Median corset, long boots and Terran armour.
    “Explain this to me again, Lady Artemas. We are supposed to be the vanguard of the Legion with a scout from the Imperial family itself. Why is it then, that this is the third refuelling point we’ve stopped at, to find nothing but abandoned colonies and destruction?”
    She looked out into space and gazed upon the beauty and the devastation that had been wrought throughout the system. Like all the modern Terran ships, the Poseidon was equipped with a full Virtual Observation System. A molecular level surface had been installed to the walls, floor and ceiling of the command deck, allowing the central processor to project a photorealistic video feed on every surface. The resulting imagery gave the effect that the command crew were floating in space. An added benefit was that information, graphs and additional data could be overlaid to provide a detailed tactical view of the surrounding system. She took a long breath and answered the irritated Dukas.
    “Dukas, I am no truthsayer. The course the Strategos has laid out gives us little room for change. We are only two jumps away from the Cunaxa Nebula. It’s clear that the Emperor already knows we are coming.”
    The Dukas sighed, the air whistling gently through his teeth.
    “Really, you know this? How?”
    Artemas walked to the navigation desk where two senior dekarchos were busy watching for potential problems.
    “May I?” she asked politely.
    The nearest, a young woman in her twenties looked to the Dukas before nodding. Artemas then approached the display and brought up the starmap that showed the area of space around the Gates of Media. There were dozens of stars but few routes to Cunaxa that wouldn’t double or even triple their journey time. She pointed at the Gates, their present location.
    “We’re here, the Gates of Media. This is the ancient entrance to the Median territories. From here onwards, we are not just inside the Empire, we are in the territory of the Medes themselves.”
    The Dukas looked confused, but she wondered how much of it was a show, put on to extract as much information from her as possible. On the other hand, he could simply be that stupid. There was also the possible chance that he just wanted to be a nuisance.
    “So? We’ve been in Medes territory for weeks. What point are you making?”
    Xenophon, who until now had been stood silently, was waiting in the corner with Roxana Devereux at his side. Both wore their Legion uniforms with Arcadian insignia and a small device on their shoulders to pin their cloaks into place. Apparently, it was an emblem of sorts for Artemas and her house. He stepped from the side of the deck and towards the Dukas and Lady Artemas.
    “My Lord, may I?” he asked.
    The Dukas looked at the Dekarchos and the uniform he wore. He was no great fan of the Medes, and the fact that this man wore a mixture of Terran and Medes military attire seemed to annoy him even more.
    “Dekarchos, you are the escort of the Lady Artemas. What insight can you possibly have to offer?”
    Xenophon did his best to choke back his annoyance. There hadn’t been time for them all to be properly introduced to the Dukas and his command staff. The fact that Xenias and his troops had been ordered aboard the Poseidon, against the wishes of Meno, had done little to help that. The only reason he was on the command deck was down to the insistence of Cyrus that his niece was protected at all times by her trusted group of companions.
    “First of all, the Median Empire is the name we gave to this substantial Empire. Technically it is a poor choice. The Medes themselves are the masters, the primary race if you will, and are based in the Median territories.”
    “As in the place we have now entered,” added Artemas with a gentle smile.
    “Indeed,” said Xenophon, looking back to the Dukas, “the planets and systems outside of the Medes territory are