Chapter Twenty-Eight

Aurann, the Citadel

The Citadel of Aurann bore down on Latharna like a physical weight, as if the entire vast construction of stone and steel was resting on her back and slowly crushing her into the ground. Based on what she knew of the man who ruled over it – and whose ancestors had built it – she suspected that this feature of the complex’s character was entirely deliberate.

Latharna stood in a vast chamber in the Citadel’s lower levels, with Arta, Karani and Digran nearby, amidst the lines of people who were even now being checked into the structure’s main body through a gate station manned by heavily armed guards. She was dressed in the grey uniform of a low-ranking Aurannian trooper, as were the others, and a thick black dust from somewhere in the mines had been rubbed into her hair to hide its distinctive color. She wore her sword at her side, but it was now in a tattered, utilitarian sheath designed to make it look like a trooper’s sidearm and no more. Pinned to her uniform shirt was a badge similar to the ones the others wore, which when scanned would confirm their identity as a squad returned from patrol and grant them passage through the lower checkpoints. Digran’s people had managed to hack into one of the less secured parts of the planetary network and use information found there to create the badges; Digran had made sure to make himself the sergeant of their tiny unit, and the others, privates. It seemed to amuse him.

He’d assured them that the rebels regularly managed to hack these basic checkpoints, and it was rare for them to get caught. The security higher in the pyramid, where the Aurannian military was headquartered and Duke Respen himself resided, was much tougher. According to Digran, they’d never managed to get someone up there.

Today, though, his confidence was greater – almost reckless, Latharna thought. But then, today, he had a secret weapon. Shiran walked behind their little group in his customary dark clothing, hands resting casually in his pockets and not even trying to blend in, and yet nobody outside of their little group seemed to realize he was there or acknowledge his presence in any way.

“Next,” the officer at the checkpoint called in a bored voice. Latharna’s heart hammered in her chest as Digran stepped forward, with the rest of them close behind. He held out his badge for inspection and the guard scanned it, and then each of the others in turn. She held her breath as he checked his results against his screen, and then let it out when he nodded. “Everything seems to be in order,” he said. “welcome home, sergeant.”

Digran saluted and walked through the checkpoint, Arta following close behind, and then Karani and Latharna herself in the rear, Shiran walking behind her with an air of complete unconcern. Past the checkpoint, Latharna now had an unobstructed view of the main hall, which soared high above her head and forward for hundreds of yards, the size of a sports arena at least. Windows lining the walls let the bright sunlight in, but the hall itself was oddly sterile, with alabaster walls and the only decoration large statues depicting abstract humanoid figures in martial poses. Between the statues were lifts that went to higher levels or down to the mines and foundries beneath the Citadel, and though the hall was busy with people moving from one place to another, it was also subdued. Many of those in the crowds appeared to be uniformed soldiers heading from one assignment to another, but even the civilians wore drab, nondescript clothing and walked quietly with their heads down as if trying to avoid attention. And as many people as there were, the hall was vast enough it could have held many more.

Digran waved them over beside one of the statues, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a cape and a spear. “Well,” he said, “we’re in. And it looks like you were right. This place is usually a lot more crowded. Respen must have taken a huge number of troops and support staff with him to Tantos III. His mistake.”

“Are the rest of your people in position?” Arta asked.

“I checked in with Shiava just before we got inside,” Digran replied, tapping his wrist comm and naming the woman who’d been with him when they’d met. “She’s in the mines and has people all through there and the workhouses, getting people ready. Your woman Rehan is with her.” Lieutenant Rehan and her people had gone with Shiava on her mission, ostensibly to get the lay of the land, unofficially to keep an eye on the rebels and make sure they were holding up their end of the bargain. Much the same reason, Latharna thought, that Digran had insisted on coming with them. Rehan herself had wanted to come with Arta, but Digran said he only had four fake IDs and couldn’t risk bringing a spare. The lieutenant had grudgingly relented.

“Remind me,” Latharna said, “exactly where we need to go.”

“The control chamber is high in the Citadel, on the Duke’s levels,” Digran said. “Our disguises and IDs will get us most of the way, but not into the top-security sectors. We’ll need your friend here for that,” he nodded at Shiran. “The entire planetary slave network is controlled from the Citadel. Once it goes down, there’ll be anarchy. Luckily, Shiava and her people are standing by to make sure the mob targets the Duke’s soldiers – those who stay loyal, anyway. The princess’s dad is probably being held somewhere near the control chamber, but we’ll be able to know for sure once we get access to the network.” He turned back to Shiran. “You ready for this, old man?”

“Of course,” Shiran said. “Working with computer programs is largely working with energy, which is far less exhausting than working with matter.” He smiled coolly. “I’ve also been working this entire time to keep anyone nearby from overhearing our conversation. You’re welcome.”

Digran shook his head. “I don’t know who you are or where you came from, but I do like your style.” He turned to Arta, Karani and Latharna. “Our main job will be to keep anyone else from shooting the old man before he finishes the job. Got it?”

“Crystal clear,” Karani said. “I want to rescue my father, and I want to make Respen hurt.”

“Music to my ears,” Digran said. “And you, princess?”

“I’m ready,” Arta said quietly, eyes hard. “Let’s move.”

///

They walked over to one of the lifts and waited for it to arrive; Latharna watched the rest of the hall furtively as they did so, certain any moment that they were going to be spotted for imposters. She breathed a quite sigh of relief as the doors opened and they stepped inside; Digran waved his ID badge over a scanner by the control panel and then punched what appeared to be the correct keys, for the lift began to rise. “This’ll take us to the highest level our fake identities are authorized for,” the rebel leader said. “Beyond that is the Upper Tier, where the nobles and high officers live and most of the top-security stuff is. That’s where we’ll need the old man.”

“Understood,” Shiran said. They then waited in silence as the lift rose, taking them high into the pyramid and far above the desert floor; finally, the door pinged and opened. There was a guard waiting in the corridor outside; Digran held up his badge and the guard saluted and let them pass.

This section of the Citadel seemed to be residential and commercial, and as they wound through its corridors and larger plazas Latharna noticed they passed a number of shops and restaurants, and even places where the entire ceiling was glass, letting the sunlight in and creating light-bathed avenues and parks. And yet even here, Respen’s character could be felt. There were more soldiers here than Latharna had seen on Carann or back home on Gearrach, and the businesses had a hard, to her eyes unfriendly look. The people here were well-off and seemed more relaxed than the ones down in the main hall, but still had an air of quiet wariness about them, as if they went about their business with a fear of being watched. Straining her ears, Latharna caught snatches of conversation, and though she never heard anyone go so far as to criticize Duke Respen directly, there seemed to be a general sense of discontent regarding the resources and manpower he was throwing into a war that seemed to have ground to a stalemate at Tantos.

At last, near what felt like the center of the pyramid, they came to a lift that would take them to the Upper Tier. Guards flanked the entrance, elite commandos like those who had taken Baron Varas, and they watched Digran with suspicion as he approached. Steeling himself, he walked forward and held up his badge; by his side, Shiran surreptitiously twitched his fingers, and a spark of pale blue appeared around his hand and around the badge. If the guards noticed it, they gave no sign. Digran pressed his badge to the reader, and for a long moment there was no reaction – and then the device pinged, and the lift door opened.

“You’re authorized,” one of the guards said, as if he didn’t quite believe it. “Go on about your business, then, and don’t make trouble.”

“Thank you, sir,” Digran said. “Of course not, sir.” He walked into the lift, the others close behind him, and when they were all in, the door shut.

Digran took a moment to scan the directory that hung on the lift car’s wall before pressing a button on the control panel. “If I’m right,” he said, “this should take us out on the same level as the control room, and nearby. Of course, it’ll be guarded. Troops, even mechs. Respen doesn’t want just anyone getting into this room, and if we make one wrong move, the entire lot of them will be on us.”

“Don’t worry,” Arta said, trying to sound calm, though Latharna could hear the uncertainty in her voice. “We have the most powerful Adept in the Dozen Stars with us. And,” here she looked at Latharna, “one of its most gifted rising knights.”

“Really?” Digran asked, looking at Latharna appraisingly. “That so?”

Latharna met his gaze without blinking. “If Her Majesty says so,” she said, while internally praying desperately that Arta’s faith in her was not misplaced.

///

The Upper Tier, or at least the portion of it in which they now found themselves, had a cold, spartan style; here the open spaces of the main hall and the greenery of the middle levels gave way to long, narrow hallways with gleaming metal walls and rows of identical doors. The place seemed designed to give a sense of foreboding and menace to anyone who found themselves here without belong, and Latharna had a feeling that was entirely deliberate. It also, she thought, reminded her of pictures she’d seen of captured Imperial facilities in her schoolbooks. It seemed fitting, somehow, that consciously or not Respen was modeling himself on that regime that both the Dozen Stars and Realtran had once fought so hard to be free of.

Digran was leading them now, stopping every so often to consult with a directory on the wall but seeming reasonably confident they were headed in the right direction. Latharna wasn’t so sure; everything here looked much the same, and she could barely tell one steel corridor from another, save by the signs that bore numbers she had no hope of keeping straight. And yet, the deeper they penetrated into the headquarters of Aurann’s military forces, the more desolate it seemed; there were still guards stationed at various corridors and doors who regarded them with hostility as they passed, but they met no one else in the halls, and judging by the dark windows on their doors, few of the offices seemed to be occupied. This, more than anything else, hammered home to her that most of Respen’s forces were in the field, and those who remained were there to preserve the illusion of strength, more than its reality.

Finally, what felt like deep in the heart of the Upper Tier, they came to a long corridor with a single door at the end and a squad of guards blocking the entrance. Digran approached, holding up his badge while Shiran moved in behind him, preparing to perform the working that would, hopefully, grant them authorization.

“What’s your business here?” one of the guards asked.

“We’ve been sent to deliver a message, sir,” Digran said. “Colonel ast Kiros, from the garrison in the mines, has been having some trouble with the surveillance and security tech and can’t find a problem on his end. He wants the maintenance staff up here to look into it. Sir.”

The guard frowned. “The maintenance office is on the ground level, soldier. You got turned around. You shouldn’t even be up here.”

Digran shrugged. “That’s what I said, but Colonel ast Kiros was insistent that the guys at the main control hub check things out; he thinks that’s where the problem is. I don’t agree, but, well, you know how officers are. Especially noble officers. Best not to argue.”

“Why didn’t the colonel send a message first?” the guard said. “We could have cleared you that way without the hassle.”

“I thought he did,” Digran said. “Clearly, it didn’t go through. It sounds like he was right about the technical difficulties, anyway.”

“Sir,” one of the other guards said, “I’m pretty sure I saw that Colonel ast Kiros was deployed to Tantos with His Grace. He hasn’t been on-planet in weeks.”

The first guard’s face hardened. “All right then,” he said, “hold it right there. All four of you are under arrest until we figure out what’s going on here. Hands in the air, now.” The guards levelled their beam rifles.

“Well, so much for plan A,” Digran muttered. Before the guards could react, he exploded into motion, ducking under the officer’s rifle and hitting him hard square in the face, sending him sprawling. The other guards levelled their weapons and opened fire, but none of their bolts hit home – a dark blue shield enveloped Digran and the bolts impacted it harmlessly. By Latharna’s side, Arta was standing with right hand outstretched, eyes glowing blue.

“What the- “one of the guards muttered, but then the entire squad dropped their rifles and drew their blades, which hissed to life. They advanced slowly, swords crackling, but Arta, Latharna, and Karani were there to meet them. Swords flashed in the corridor as they dueled back and forth, but then Latharna found her way through her opponent’s guard and buried her sword in his throat. He collapsed with a rasping sound and died, but this time, Latharna didn’t have time to think about his death; beside her, Arta and Karani had just finished off their own foes, and the final two guards were slammed into the wall by a burst of light from Shiran and lay still.

“Come on,” Digran said, gesturing them forward. “Someone will have heard that.” They hurried down the corridor, but as they passed the officer he sat up slowly, groaning – then his eyes widened when he saw what had become of his squad and he pressed a button on his wrist comm. Digran cursed and turned back to shoot him, but the bolt wasn’t fast enough. Even as the officer crumpled, red lights began to flash, and sirens echoed through the halls. “They’re onto us now!” Digran shouted. “Let’s do this fast. Then they’ll have other things to worry about.”

They reached the end of the corridor and this time didn’t even bother with Digran’s badge; Shiran raised a hand and made a sharp gesture and the door handle, lock and all, burst into pieces and the door flew open. Inside the room was a large computer and a larger bank of screens which showed scenes from the Upper Tier, the main hall, and the mines on loop, but Latharna didn’t have time to watch them. Two more officers sat at the keyboards and jumped to their feet when the door opened; Digran shot one, and Latharna herself ran the other through.

“All right, old man,” Digran said. “This is your show.”

“As you say, it is,” Shiran said, taking one of the seats the two soldiers had vacated. “This may take some time, and I can’t say for sure how long, as I don’t know how complex the security measures Respen’s people will have put in place are.”

“Well try to do it as fast as you can,” Digran said, raising his pistol and turning back to the door. “We’re about to have a lot more company. The rest of us’ll try to hold them off.”

He crouched beside the door, holding his pistol ready; Latharna, Arta and Karani joined him, blades ready and expressions expectant. Latharna’s heart hammered nervously in her chest, and the continued flashing of the warning lights was putting her on edge. She readied herself for what was sure to come.

///

Arta could almost feel the tendrils of Shiran’s power teasing on her mind from behind as she stared down the corridor, waiting. She couldn’t even imagine how difficult his task must be, and had no idea how she’d go about doing it herself, but she knew that Shiran was the most powerful Adept she’d ever met – even, she believed, more than Midaia – and she had full faith in his ability to succeed. She was less certain about their own odds. In the distance, she could hear the sounds of booted feet and voices raised in command, and she knew that a squad of Aurannian troopers was coming, probably more than they could hope to handle. Probably they’d just rain fire down the entire corridor and put an end to everyone. Shiran might escape, but Arta, and her sister, and the girl she was increasingly certain she had feelings for, along with the leader of the Aurannian resistance, would all die, and by following her leadership. A ghastly legacy of failure for the reign of Artakane I to leave behind.

The first troopers began to pour down the corridor, beam rifles raised. Among them floated a number of mechs, squat and roughly ovoid, their sides bristling with weapons. Armed mechs of that sort weren’t common in the Dozen Stars; not technically illegal, so long as they weren’t self-aware, but so heavily frowned upon they might as well have been. But the Empire used them. Arta wondered exactly how long Respen had been doing business with them, and whether his “new” alliance was new after all.

“We have you pinned in,” a voice called from behind the front rank of the troopers. “You have no hope of escape. Surrender now and we will let you live. This is your last chance.”

“They want to know how we got through the security, I wager,” Digran said, then raised his voice. “I’ll never surrender to the Mad Duke’s dogs. Free Aurann!” He fired a shot down the corridor which grazed one of the troopers’ armor but didn’t seem to have done any further damage.

“Very well,” the officer’s voice called. “On your head be it.” His troops raised their rifles, and Arta froze. She could make a shield that would absorb the blasts, she knew, but she didn’t know how long it could stand up to a determined barrage. Did she have a chance to save her companions, or simply delay their deaths by a few seconds? At her side, she saw Digran, his expression defiant; Karani, who looked outraged, and Latharna, resigned to her fate and muttering a prayer under her breath. Arta’s resolve steeled. If she didn’t act, all of them would die, and for nothing. And she needed to save her father, and free Aurann, and for that Shiran needed more time…

Shiran. At the thought, his voice from the great hall came flooding back to Arta’s mind. Energy, he’d said, was easier to work with than matter, and computer programs were a kind of energy. Maybe Arta didn’t have what it took to untangle Duke Respen’s security systems, but she could still do something simpler…

Time seemed to slow as Arta gathered her will. The troopers raised their weapons at a fraction of their normal speed, and Arta reached out not for the living men and women… but for the mechs. Suddenly she found herself inside their minds, if minds they could be said to have. They didn’t think for themselves; the stigma against artificial intelligence was too strong. They just followed orders, protecting friendlies and destroying hostiles – and now, Arta had a hand directly on the core of their beings. She rearranged a few key elements of their programming, and then she snapped back to herself.

Time resumed its normal flow, and the troopers were just now pulling their triggers – but before they could fire, their mechs spun in midair and turned their weapons towards them, filling the corridor with a barrage of blast fire. Dozens of Aurannian troopers fell dead, slain by their own mechs, and then the mechs turned on each other, their blasts ripping each other to pieces. After a brief, violent moment, it was over, and the corridor was left littered with bodies broken remnants of machinery.

“Damn,” Digran said after a long, silent moment. “I mean… damn. Glad you’re on my side, princess.”

Arta stared silently at the carnage she had wrought, and then sank to the floor, gasping in horror. She could feel Latharna putting her arm around her shoulder, and Karani quietly taking her hand, and she didn’t push them away; she just knelt there quietly, staring. Killing more than twenty people, she thought, shouldn’t be so easy.

“Don’t feel bad, prin – Artakane,” Digran said, his rough voice unusually quiet. “Those were Respen’s personal bully-boys and -girls, based on their uniforms. Plenty of blood on their hands. Don’t mourn for them.”

“They were still people,” Arta muttered. “And I still killed them all. They never even had a chance to fight back.”

“And that you care about that means you’re still human,” Digran said. “You surprise me. In more ways than one.”

Arta stood slowly, nodding first at Karani, then at Latharna. The Realtran girl looked on the verge of saying something, but before she could, Shiran interrupted. “Aha!” he said. “I have it.” The others turned away and hurried over to join him.

“As you can see, I’ve managed to deactivate the collars,” Shiran said, gesturing towards the screens, which now showed miners and laborers removing their collars with expressions of wonderment on their faces, while soldiers backed up apprehensively. On a few of the screens Arta caught glimpses of hard eyed people among the crowds who seemed to be stepping forward, and she wondered if they were Digran’s people. One of them looked like she might have been Shiava, though she wasn’t on-screen long enough to be sure. “I’ve also,” Shiran went on, “deactivated the defenses at the checkpoints, opened all of the Citadel’s weapons vaults, and taken down all military communications channels. The Ducal military forces are in disarray; now is the time for your people to arm themselves and rise up. I’ve also taken control of the Citadel’s communications network. If you would like to share a message with your people, now is the time.”

Digran swallowed and stepped forward. “My brothers and sisters,” he said, speaking into the microphone Shiran had indicated, “some of you may have heard of me, and some of you haven’t. My name is Digran Tassis, and eve since I was old enough to hold a weapon, I have fought for the freedom of Aurann. For too long has Duke Respen put his foot on our throats and called it his right. Too long has he worked our fathers and mothers to death in his mines and factories or taken our brothers and sisters as conscripts for his armies. That ends today! Your collars have been deactivated and the Citadel’s defenses are down. Today is the day to rise up and take back what is yours! And to those of you who have fought for the Duke, I say to you now that if you can no longer live with yourselves, the time has come to join us! Join your people! Down with Respen! Free Aurann!”

“And I,” Arta said, stepping forward, “am Artakane ast Carann, your queen. Today I stand beside my friend Digran Tassis and I stand beside you, people of Aurann, to fight for your freedom. Too long has the crown turned a blind eye to cruel dukes and corrupt guilds, but we will stand aside no longer. Today, the Crown fights for you! Know that by our decree and the will of the loyal Dukes of the Realm, Respen ast Aurann is deposed and declared outlaw. What claim he had on your lives and your world is void in the eyes of the Crown. The time has come, sons and daughters of Aurann – sons and daughters of the Dozen Stars – to throw off your oppressors and stand. And now the Crown stands by your side! Down with Respen!”

On the screens, Arta could see the workers staring at each other in wonder; some looked disbelieving, while others were determined. On some of the screens the crowds were surging forward, forcing the troopers back; on others, troopers had turned against each other, beam blasts flashing. But even in the scenes where all the troopers seemed to have remained loyal to their duke, the rising tide of humanity outnumbered them.

“It’s finally happening,” Digran said, shaking his head. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

Karani grabbed Arta and twirled her around, laughing. “I can’t wait to see the look on Respen’s smug face!” she said. “Nice speech, little sister!”

“Digran’s was better,” Arta said, flushing, and turned back to Shiran. “Did you find where they were keeping our father?”

“Yes,” Shiran said. “The Baron is being held two floors above us, in a holding cell in Respen’s private apartments. He’s alive, but under heavy guard – though perhaps less heavy now that the Citadel’s populace is in open revolt. I’ve disabled all the checkpoints on the way, so you won’t need me to get there; I feel like I should stay here, to prevent anyone from trying to regain control of the system.”

“I’m staying here too,” Digran said. “This looks like the best place to coordinate the uprising. Use Respen’s own tool against him.”

“Well I’m coming with you,” Karani said. “I’m going to make Respen’s men pay for taking Father.”

“Me, too,” Latharna said. “I’m your knight, aren’t I? I can’t let you go into danger alone.”

“All right, then,” Arta said; she glanced back down the hall and to the destruction she’d wrought and steadied herself. “We’ve already taken lives today. It’s time to go save one.”