Citadel

By Hollis Earl

What makes someone stand up and be counted? Where does such inner strength come from? Erran Dal never thought he was special on his home world of Vorsa. If anything, he was just a middle-ranking knight among the Kaloran nobles. His only real ambition was to marry his childhood sweetheart and disappear into domestic obscurity.

Then, on his way home from a trade expedition, something happened which would change the course of his life forever. A battle with a familiar foe, the Moora, uncovers a resolve and purpose he was unawarehe had. However, there are also strange forces at work; and these, together with his ability to motivate those around him, begin to get him noticed. To aide him in his quest he is led to an ancient weapon with mysterious powers. But is he compelled by his own convictions, or is he being coerced?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Feb 12, 2008
• ISBN: 9781467019293

Hollis Earl

Hollis Earl is a civil servant livingin Wales, United Kingdom. He principally trained as a musician and this remains his first passion. But before the music came an interest in astronomy, which in turn led to a fascination with science fiction. " We know so little about our universe and this fuels our imagination.I think everyone has a good story in them and this one, called Citadel, is hopefully mine." Citadel is based on an old tale but given a new twist: "I wanted the characters to tell the story in their own words(without too much interference from me!), much like the plays from the late 16th and early 17th centuries. I don't know whether it's science fiction or science fantasy, but I hope it works on either level. I also hopeit's the story,and not the genre, that draws people to thisfirst instalment."

Book preview

Citadel

by

HOLLIS EARL

V00_9781434347343_TEXT.pdf

AuthorHouse™ UK Ltd.

500 Avebury Boulevard

Central Milton Keynes, MK9 2BE

www.authorhouse.co.uk

Phone: [phone]

© 2008 Hollis Earl. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 2/5/2008

ISBN: 978-1-4343-4734-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4670-1929-3 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

Bloomington, Indiana

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Citadel - Main Names and Place Pronunciation

Dedicated to Corneille, Janet and Debra;

for their inspiration, encouragement and dedication.

Chapter 1  

A Chance Encounter

Don’t get too far ahead of me!

One sun was high above the horizon, the other climbed from its resting place as two figures, one adult and one child, made their way along a side street. The child skipped playfully ahead of her father who was anxious that she did not disappear from sight.

I said…

I know, she replied, stopping for a moment to let her exasperated father draw nearer.

But as soon as he was a few paces away she skipped off again with a mischievous smile on her face. Her father shook his head, for he knew it was a routine he faced every time he took her to the market place in Yosu. He also knew that he was too soft; she would not annoy her mother so readily. They were approaching a corner and he picked up his pace so that he could keep her in view. As they turned the corner into the main square it was suddenly full of people. The child was jostled by the crowd and lost sight of her father. She frantically began looking for him, eyes darting in every direction, and, as she started to panic, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Let that be a lesson to you, he said softly. She took his hand and they walked towards the vendors in the square.

Don’t forget mother wants some fruit, she said.

He searched through his pockets.

I said…

Yes, I heard you the first time, he began, you shouted it loud enough.

She gave him a cheeky smile, which he naturally returned, with an order: Now stay close by, he said, letting go of her hand.

He took a data unit from his pocket and checked the list; he had forgotten to put fruit on it. His wife always gave him instructions verbally. She always had the list in her head and he always forgot something, even though he was supposed to write it down. As they walked around the market place the girl watched her father wrestle with his memory, he was never sure whether he had forgotten something. That would only be discovered when he got back home.

Suddenly, a siren sounded and the crowd began to scatter in all directions. The girl grabbed her father’s waist and began to shake.

We have to find shelter quickly, said her father. But before they knew it they were being attacked from all sides by ships that came swooping low from the direction of the suns. The pulsar weapons of the ships were devastating and the crowd was an easy target. They did not stand a chance, even if they could momentarily take cover.

In the confusion she lost her grip on her father and stumbled. The older Kaloran looked back as pulsar beams rained down on the area. He could see her and vainly tried to reach her, but the sheer volume of people running past him hindered his progress. She eventually managed to get to her feet and stood with arms outstretched, and felt secure when her father gathered her up. At that moment another ship swooped in and struck. The charred, entwined bodies of the girl and her father fell to the ground as the ships circled, ensuring that they had inflicted maximum damage.

A short while later five more ships approached on the horizon. As the signs of devastation had been picked up on their ship’s sensors they decided to land to give assistance where they could. A tall, handsome Kaloran stepped from one of the crafts; he was dressed in such finery that none could mistake his noble roots. He approached a holy man, a chola, clutching the remnants of various religious artefacts.

They have destroyed everything. We did not deserve this, moaned the chola.

The young nobleman looked around him: Who did this? he asked.

They were Moora, he replied these attacks are so pointless. Is there no one who will challenge this treachery? he cried in desperation.

What can I do to help? asked the young nobleman.

The chola stood back and looked him up and down, My Lord… he began.

My name is Erran, the young man said.

We are in need of medical attention and refuge.

All around him Erran could see the ruthless and indiscriminate result of the Moora foray into his land. The smell of burning flesh and the groans of the dying almost made him sick to his stomach. The survivors were few and had been left alive to tell their horrific stories as part of the Moora’s plan of terror. He turned; the sky was an ominous red, and the black clouds on the horizon heralded an approaching storm. Erran called to one of his men:

Pela, arrange to put these people aboard our craft.

Pela was a young man, standing tall, and proud of his position as captain of Bikarre. As you wish, my Lord, he answered.

The ship lifted off without sound and easily outran the fast-approaching storm. Erran looked back at the nightmare scene and felt remorse that they had not had time to bury the victims of the slaughter.

Pela, what town lies ahead?

The city of Drega.

We will set down there and find our passengers a place of refuge

Very well.

Pela barked some orders and before long they had reached the city of Drega. Using the influence of his father’s reputation Erran secured his guests temporary accommodation and bade farewell to the chola. His vessel, and the four that accompanied him, took to the skies once more, setting a course for home.

It will be good to return home again, Erran. Pela did not have to be formal since they stood alone on a balcony in the control room.

Yes, it will, Pela. And this may be the last trade run I do on behalf of my father. When I return to Bikarre I shall marry Alena and start a family.

That will be a great day, replied Pela. The daughter of the King’s champion. Everyone in Bikarre has been waiting a long time for that day.

Yes, she is so close to me that I feel that she is always with me.

These attacks, Erran, you appear much troubled by them?

Erran’s brow furrowed and he was silent for a few moments.

We have always had our problems with the Moora, but now there seems to be more of a purpose to these attacks. It worries me that they do not even disguise them as in the past. As a race they are not known for obedience or loyalty. They are undisciplined and opportunist. I am troubled, and I wish I could understand their need to hate us so deeply.

I have heard stories that they have sworn allegiance to one leader, something that’s been unheard of for centuries…

A siren suddenly sounded and an officer reported to the two men on the balcony.

We have detected about ten ships on an interception course, said officer Garan.

From what direction? asked Pela.

They are coming from the east.

Moora! replied Erran.

What do you want to do? asked Pela, shall we engage them?

Erran seemed pensive and hesitant as his officers stood there waiting for his reply.

I just want to return home, he said wearily, almost to himself, why is this happening today of all days?

What would you have us do, asked Pela again, they are bearing down on us, he added with urgency.

Once again Erran wrestled with his conscience, thinking of the plight of the people of Yosu. He had never led a command of this magnitude before and did not want to risk the lives of his comrades. Should he run? His indecision began to alarm his comrades.

Just then, a young soldier passed below the balcony on which they stood. He stopped and smiled up at Erran before continuing on his way. Garan and Pela looked at each other, seeing that Erran appeared distracted:

Who is that? asked Erran, I don’t think I know him,"

I don’t know. Cerrad is responsible for any new crew… replied Pela.

It’s getting dark, interrupted Garan, adding: perhaps we should be heading back to Bikarre, in the hope that this might settle his master’s uncertainty.

If these are the same ships that attacked Yosu it gives us the chance to avenge them. We could be in for a long night. What do you say Pela?

The change of demeanour surprised them.

Yes sir! replied Pela.

The control room sprang into action. Orders were sent to the other ships and before long they had engaged the enemy. Attack formations had been fed into computers and targets were assigned. It was possible to move at tremendous speeds and make direct hits. It was also possible to get hit! And hit they were!

What’s our status? yelled Erran.

Our main shields are holding, but severely damaged. One of our ships has taken a number of direct hits and I don’t think it can take anymore, said Garan as he surveyed the array of instrument panels in front of him.

Pela approached Erran: We have destroyed two of their ships. Do you have any further orders?

Apart from avenging Yosu, none, he replied.

A child in Drega could not sleep and rose from her bed and went to the window. She looked out into the night sky, south of the city. From the ground there was an eerie beauty to the aerial dogfight. They appeared like insects in the distance performing some kind of innocuous mating ritual.

Erran asked once again for a status report from Garan.

We have destroyed another two of their craft, but I’m afraid we have just lost a ship!

Erran banged his fists on a console panel. There were about thirty men and women on that vessel and he was responsible for them.

Well there are six of them and four of us. I’d say the odds were pretty even! Let’s show them what we can do.

With new impetus they re-engaged the enemy and before long the Bikarrans had destroyed another two of the Moora vessels. Each time they destroyed an enemy ship a great cheer went up from Erran’s men. Things were now looking good. That was until Pela approached: My Lord, we have just detected another five craft entering from the upper atmosphere. They are Moora; what would you have us do?

The crew on the bridge turned around to face their officers. They knew that although their weapons were somewhat superior to those of the Moora the odds were no longer in their favour.

Pela asked again, What are your orders. Would you have us surrender?

We could let the authorities deal with them - we have contacted them, said Garan.

And how long will it take them to get here? answered Erran. I will not surrender to them in my own land, and I say we engage them right here, right now, and do whatever it takes to avenge the deaths of our comrades.

Pela gave the order to fight to the death and it was gladly accepted. They fought bravely, using their skill and wits. The battle raged through the night and as one of the planet’s suns cut through the darkness it could be seen that only four of the enemy ships remained by early morning. As one sun rose into the sky two of those were destroyed with another fleeing the battle. There remained one enemy ship, and being larger than the others that had accompanied it, Erran assumed it was the command vessel. Of the five ships that had been in Erran’s charge one had been destroyed and two were severely damaged. The Moora ship remained motionless in the air with the Kaloran ships hanging above it like birds of prey waiting for the order to kill.

As time passed Pela looked to the giant screen in the command centre:

What are they waiting for? he said.

What are we waiting for? muttered a crew member, we have them!

Erran seemed hesitant and pensive, staring blankly at the screen. His comrades had suffered enough; they all wanted to get home.

Your orders, My Lord? asked Cerrad, over the intercom.

All eyes looked up to the balcony. At first there was no response. Then, suddenly:

All ships. Fire! he commanded.

There followed a relentless onslaught as the Kaloran vessels homed in on their target, striking it from all angles. The Moora vessel was slow, but had huge firepower, its pulsar canons severely testing the Kaloran shields. However, it was clear that it was damaged as it limped down into a valley.

Cerrad, Pela and Garan are with me. Everyone else, remain airborne, ordered Erran.

Two of the Kaloran ships landed and soldiers aboard mechanised vehicles, called air pods, flew out in the direction of the stricken vessel. Erran halted the advance some distance in front of the Moora and waited.

In time a door on the vessel slowly lowered and three figures could be seen walking down the ramp. Erran beckoned Pela, Cerrad and Garan to his side and they approached the Moora. Setting down his air pod, Erran stepped off and faced the three Moora:

You have attacked my ships and innocent civilians. Why have you done this? he asked.

They offered no reply.

Shall we take them back to Bikarre…? asked Cerrad.

I am Lord Mira, said one of them suddenly.

Well, My lord, what would happen if I handed you over to the authorities in Bikarre?

My people would wreak a terrible vengeance on your land and your Bikarre, came the response.

I see, said Erran, adding: Tell me, what is it that drives you to commit these acts?

I thought that would be obvious, spat one of the others, you walk in the world as though you own it; your decadence and arrogance are an affront.

Erran stepped in front of him: And who might you be?

I am Lord Beloc.

You, my friend, seem full of hatred.

Erran looked at the third Moora: I am Lord Asal, he began, yes, it is true that there is much hatred between us.

Erran stood and looked at his three captives and after a while he said:

Hate is a pointless emotion; its only outcome is negative and many lives, mostly belonging to you, have been lost to it today. You have suffered a great defeat at my hands, and I therefore believe that you have, to some degree, answered for your crime.

What he said next surprised the Moora and his own men:

However, it seems that there needs to be some sort of catalyst between our two nations if we are to ever live in peace. So I release you on two conditions. Firstly, that neither you or the men that serve you attack this land again. Secondly, that you go to your leaders and implore them to open discussions with us so that we may settle our differences.

Pela tugged Erran’s shirtsleeves: Have you lost your mind? You know we have a duty to report their capture to the authorities.

Then you must do your duty, replied Erran, releasing himself from Pela’s grip.

Turning back to the Moora leaders he asked: Do you so swear?

The Moora appeared to be stunned by what was happening, forcing Erran to ask the question again.

I so swear, said Mira and Asal. But Beloc made no reply.

Erran stood in front of him: Make no mistake, you will be executed if I am not satisfied.

I so swear, said Beloc defiantly.

Is your vessel capable of flight? asked Erran.

There is much damage, but it will fly, replied Asal.

As Erran and his companions turned and boarded their air pods Mira shouted after him:

What sort of person are you?

One that believes that we can all live and work together, responded Erran as they flew back to the command vessel.

Mira watched him disappear from sight before finally closing the door to his own craft.

The Moora craft made a slow ascent into the air then disappeared into the distance.

The Kalorans headed back to Bikarre and could see a large crowd had gathered on the large expanse of land leading to Erran’s ancestral home, Learna. This was partly because they had radioed ahead, but the numbers of the crowd had swelled on news of their encounter with the Moora. The ships landed and some people were shocked at the damage done to their craft. Cerrad was the first officer on the ship that had suffered the most. As he disembarked he ordered an immediate full inspection of the damage and his crew leapt into action.

Cerrad, beckoned Erran, what news?

Cerrad walked slowly to his master, It doesn’t look good. I’d say that we’d be lucky to salvage her.

Keep me informed.

My lord, said Cerrad returning to his men. As he did so a tall female pushed her way through the crowd and shouted his name. Cerrad, my love.

It was his wife.

Shalaya! he cried. They embraced as though he had been away for years.

It’s so good to see you Cerrad.

It’s good to see you too. However, we have to wait a little longer. As you can see my vessel sustained a great deal of damage when we fought the Moora. I have some duties to perform and then we will be together.

Well, don’t take too long. I might go off the boil! She had a sly glint in her eye, a look that he knew all too well and it brought a smile to his face.

Erran walked toward the crowd who thronged around him eager to touch him and slap his back. As the crowd parted a tall important-looking man stood before him, his white hair tied behind his head. His name was Tarna, a great knight in his day. My son, welcome home, he said.

Father, it’s good to be here.

You sound a little fatigued.

The Moora kept me up all night! Erran replied.

Speaking of Moora, I assumed that you had prisoners. Where are they?

Well, it’s a long story, but in short, I let them go.

The mood of the crowd suddenly changed:

They took Kaloran lives! yelled someone.

A priest in blue and white robes, who seemed to appear from nowhere, called for calm and the crowd settled down.

Yes, I hear that they destroyed one of your vessels killing thirty-two people. Some of them had been in my service for many years, said Tarna mournfully.

Yes, I know father. It all seems so pointless.

Suddenly, out of the blue sky, two ships appeared with the King’s insignia on their flanks. The crowd scattered as they passed over. As the ships landed the King’s soldiers streamed out and their commander appeared from their midst. He strode confidently toward the Bikarrans with an arrogant swagger. This was Haldren, the King’s captain.

Lord Tarna, I hear that you hold Moora prisoners. As the King‘s Captain I ask that you hand them over.

I welcome the king’s captain, Tarna replied, But I’m afraid I cannot assist you.

It is customary that when an enemy vessel is taken it is reported by law. We received such a report, said Haldren bluntly.

Where were you when we fought against them? asked Pela, who could remain silent no longer. The remark drew a disapproving look from Tarna.

We had received information that an attack would take place far to the south, said Haldren.

You never seem to be in the right place, replied Pela. It would seem that your informants have been duped with misinformation. We also sent a distress call for assistance, but none came.

It was thought that the attack you were involved with was a decoy for a greater attack in the south. This was obviously wrong.

Ah… and we were obviously expendable!

Pela! said Tarna, intervening. He knew that there was no love lost between the two men, who had been friends in their younger days as well as great rivals. Pela had always believed that Haldren had gained his position by devious means and was ruthless in his pursuit of power and influence. In short, he believed him to be dishonourable.

I ask you again, Tarna. Will you give me your prisoners?

I tell you we have no prisoners, Captain Haldren, but it was the efforts of my son and his men that brought this victory.

Haldren was becoming weary. He felt that his position warranted respect, and that when he spoke he spoke with the King’s authority. Tarna was master in Bikarre, but the master had referred him to his son. He saw this not only as a weakness in Tarna but also as an insult to his rank in front of the citizens of Bikarre.

Erran, will you give me your prisoners?

There was silence and Erran seemed pensive for what appeared to be an immeasurable length of time. Then, without looking at Haldren, but facing his father, he spoke softly:

Haldren, what discourse have we with the Moora?

The question surprised everyone that heard it.

Discourse? I don’t understand.

"What