Chapter 23

"So we're really going to do it?" Teel asked sadly, as we lay together on a hard bunk in one of the spare cabins. We'd spent an hour making love, helping relieve the stress that the adrenaline pumping through our veins had produced.

"We'll attempt to minimise casualties, but we're committed. There can be no turning back."

"In nurturing, we were taught that violence never solved anything."

"That's true for the most part, but sometimes there's no other recourse. In my era, one country even had the right to take up arms written into their constitution."

"I'm scared what this will all mean for the future. Yes, I want change, but not at the expense of armed insurgency every time somebody disagrees with an unpopular decision."

"That's not what we're about here. In my time, the Guardians and the High Council would have been indicted as war criminals for the outrageous massacre at Frecken. As soon as we remove them from office, we'll arrange for democratic elections, and allow the people, including the villagers, to have a say in exactly who takes charge."

We awoke the following morning to discover more new arrivals. Grant and thirty of his men were speaking with Benni and Raban. All of them were heavily armed with a collection of pistols, rifles and even what appeared to be a heavy machine gun.

"Mark," he greeted severely. "I owe you an apology. You were right all along."

"What changed your mind?"

"A flyer raid, two days ago. They levelled several buildings close to our vicinity, thankfully without causing fatalities, although there were some minor injuries. It may be only a matter of time before they finally target us and bring all the upper levels crumbling down upon us. We won't be safe until we can neutralise the threat."

I nodded.

"I've just been hearing about your preparations. I don't know how you achieved it, but we want to take part, whatever the risks."

"We're going to assemble out of direct line of sight of the citadel, tomorrow night. As soon as everybody's gathered together, we'll march down into the valley and take the citadel by force. Every citizen will see exactly what's going on down below, there'll be no way for them to cover up any massacre, like they did at Frecken."

Flyers made numerous visits throughout the day, and the size of our available forces soon numbered over a thousand men and women. Troyal doubted that the six freight flyers they'd commandeered would be able to ferry all the volunteers in the limited time available.

Another Guardian arrived with news that emergency procedures were now in place within the citadel, with senior Guardians rushing around in mad panic.

"They know," I opined. "They know something's in the wind. We need to bring things forward."

"We've still not contacted all the villages," Troyal replied.

"It doesn't matter. It's too late for them to help us anyway. We move tonight. If they've learned of our plans, they probably think they have another day to set up a defensive perimeter. We need to be in place before then, maybe look at launching the assault first thing tomorrow morning."

"Why not attack at night?" he asked. "There'd be fewer casualties."

"I want people in the citadel to watch everything. At night, they'd see a few fireworks, but wouldn't be able to make out what was happening. In daylight, if they start wiping us out, the people of the citadel will witness it all, and have to live with the memory of it for the rest of their lives."

Troyal departed to pass along the change of plans, and arrange to start transporting our forces.

"So this is it," Grant sighed, "everything to be decided by a single battle, win or lose."

"Would you have done anything differently?"

"I don't think I'd have had the courage to organise anything quite so extravagant. Let's just hope that we've not underestimated our opponents, otherwise there's going to be a lot of grieving tomorrow."

"I don't think I've underestimated them, and I'm realistic enough to know that a lot of good people are going to die tomorrow, unless the citadel is prepared to back down. I have the horrible feeling that they're not going to give up power without a fight."

"I suspect you're right," Grant conceded. "I just wish there was another way."

"There isn't. Left unchecked, they'll eventually destroy your home and then grind the villages into the dust for having the temerity to stand up against them."

The flyer arrived just before midnight and we climbed aboard, clinging to our weapons for comfort. A large number had already gathered behind the shelter of a large rise, out of the citadel's direct line of sight. The darkened sky lacked even a partial moon, making it an ideal night in which to congregate, ready for the following morning's upcoming ordeal.

As dawn began to rise, we crested the rise and surveyed our target. Nobody was moving down below, but we had few doubts that our presence had been detected, and that the defenders were now accelerating their preparations to repel our assault.

All around the outskirts of the citadel, hundreds of villagers appeared, looking down into the valley, reminding me of the film 'Zulu' when African tribesmen surrounded the British outpost at Rorke's Drift. Rather than spears, men waved crude clubs, farming implements and the occasional more powerful weapon over their heads, shaking them defiantly at the defenders below.

A small contingent of Guardians spilled out of the base of the citadel and took cover behind hastily erected barricades. A sense of trepidation passed through me, as I realised the time rapidly approached when the attack must begin. Heads turned in my direction and I responded with an exaggerated swing of the arm, signalling the advance.

We walked slowly down the hill, waiting nervously for the first shot to be fired. Up above, a high-pitched whine announced the deployment of flyers. They poured out of the hangar bay, almost like Cylon raiders departing their basestar in Battlestar Galactica. They made several passes to intimidate us before one activated its weapon and several of our advancing force exploded into pieces.

Everything suddenly descended into chaos as ground weapons returned fire. A stray bullet chanced upon a vulnerable part of a flyer, which tumbled out of control, ploughing into the hillside and crushing several people beneath its bulk. Heat beams lanced down from above, occasionally catching an unsuspecting villager in its deathly grip. Several yards away, a young woman screamed on the floor as she gripped what remained of her left leg. I struggled to retain the contents of my stomach and accelerated the pace of my descent.

The Guardian defenders were picking off targets with impunity before a powerful heat beam played over them and they screamed as their bodies burned. Gunfire echoed around the basin as bullets chewed up what remained of their defences, causing the few survivors to hastily retreat to the sanctuary of the citadel.

The flyers continued to wreak havoc until the whine of our own freight craft emerged from over the horizon and engaged them. A crude dogfight took place, with heat beams raining down randomly, inadvertently creating even greater loss of life. Friendly fire incidents notwithstanding, several of the smaller craft took damage and limped away, either to the comparative safety of the citadel, or to a distance that took them far away from the conflict.

Several heat beams impacted the side of the citadel, and the entire structure shimmered as the structural integrity field, or whatever held the tower upright, struggled to dissipate the energy poured into it.

With just several yards to the entrance to the lower levels of the citadel, bullets and heat beams prevented any defender from countering our advance. We flooded inside, occasionally coming across a brave Guardian that attempted to stem the incursion. The first few were cut down with minimal casualties to our forces, whereupon the remainder laid down their weapons and indicated their reluctance to oppose us. Grant stepped forward and prevented their massacre, instead finding ways to secure them such that they could not return to the fray. He assigned two men to guard the prisoners from any reprisals.

I tried not to contemplate our losses as we headed towards the turbo lifts, but the image of the dead, strewn about the battlefield, was a sobering one. Nevertheless, we'd achieved our objective with the majority of our forces intact; my best case scenario.

The elevator doors opened and we entered, I entered the code for the council chamber level. The doors opened, but not in the area that I recognised immediately. Men and women scattered in fear as we emerged onto a spacious concourse. The lift doors cycled and soon disgorged more of our people until a large force assembled unopposed.

"Send somebody back down to ground level," I instructed. "I want people stationed on every floor between here and the cultivation sections. Reassure the citizens. Tell them we mean them no harm, and that they'll be perfectly safe, provided they stay out of our way."

A Guardian approached, one of those collaborating with us, as indicated by a white band around the arm of his tunic. "We're about three quarters of the way up the citadel. They've overridden the turbo lifts to prevent us accessing the command levels. I'm going to take a team down to secure the loading bay, and allow our flyers to return."

We spread out over the floor and found the pedestrian access to the upper levels blocked in every case by stasis fields. A Guardian watched impassively from the opposite side, knowing there was no way to breach the obstruction. One of our Guardians attempted to reason with the defender, but he refused to even enter into conversation.

I descended to the loading bay, just as the first flyer docked. Troyal leaped out of the access hatch and reported six defending enemy flyers downed and two more in full retreat, headed away from the citadel. He informed me that our own damages were limited to a propulsion unit hit by defensive fire, but with no casualties other than the crew being badly shaken from the hard landing.

A dozen Guardians pilots had been taken prisoner, offering no resistance as our people overran the hangar bay. They were currently being escorted to a detention area. I informed Troyal of the lockdown of the upper levels, but he could think of no way to circumvent the restrictions.

"They have no access to food other than what little is stored up there," he replied. "Eventually, they'll have to surrender, or starve."

"How long before they'd be forced to concede?"

"There's enough food for a couple of days at best."

"How long if they prioritize their forces over the civilians?"

"Surely they wouldn't..."

"Let's just assume that they would."

"There are stasis units on the upper levels. If they froze provisions, and rationed the general population ... I don't know ... weeks ... months maybe."

"That's a hell of a long siege. How many people live on the upper levels?"

"A thousand including all the senior figures in the administration. We've only a rough idea how strong their Guardian force is, but we should know more shortly. Initial reports are that over half of the contingent has refused to get involved in the fight. Taking off our own numbers, and those accounted for down below, I'm guessing they've got less than fifty Guardians to defend two hundred levels."

"Not that we can access any of them," I grumbled.

Vanessa and Teel appeared. I hugged them both, glad that they'd made it through the battle unscathed. There was some bad news however. Raban had been killed early on in the assault, and Peter, my friend from the city, was in a serious condition with heater burns to the arm and chest. Jeremy was comforting him, and trying to ensure he received the best medical treatment available.

Another familiar face made an appearance; I rushed over to greet Malik.

"I didn't think I'd see you under these circumstances," he stated. "We all watched your approach and couldn't believe it when the flyers opened fire on you."

Behind him, a pretty female lurked, one I remembered from my incarceration in the citadel jail. "This is Narissa, my partner," he introduced.

"You may want your laser knife back," I jested. She smiled weakly at my attempt at levity.

"I've been looking after Tiger for you," she replied. "He almost eats as much as we do."

I forced a laugh.

"I'm sorry I deceived you," Malik confessed. "Sarek was adamant that I not reveal my links to him and the Utopians."

"I understand. Where is Sarek?"

"On the upper levels, attempting to convince the High Council to negotiate a peaceful solution."

"I have severe reservations about his chances of success."

"They've lost, surely. We control most of the citadel, all the food production areas..."

"They could hold out for months if they ration the food," I replied.

"What would be the point of that? There's no way that they could win, long term."

"There is something they could do," Troyal interrupted.

"There is?" I asked.

"The citadel's stasis generators are located on the upper levels. If they turned them off, the whole structure would collapse."

"They wouldn't..."

"Having seen what they're capable of, nothing would surprise me."

"They'd be killed themselves."

"There's a small hangar bay located on the roof that houses a dozen flyers. It was intended in case of dire emergency, but it's not inconceivable that they could flee and then collapse the citadel, killing us all."

"We have to get up there. There must be some way," Malik gasped urgently.

"What about the power conduits? Are they protected by the lockdown?"

"They can't be," Troyal replied. "Not without cutting off power to the upper levels."

"That's our way up then."

"It's two hundred levels. It would be quite a climb."

"If you want to wait until they deactivate the stasis field," I ventured.