AN: I wasn't really 'feeling' this chapter, so it may be a little off. I wrote the next one before it where more interesting things happen but I also don't just want to write out 'and then they did a revolution'. Still think the 2k segment lengths are pretty good for this sort of thing, but I'm unsure whether I actually want to write these sort of 'episode' chapters where I cover the events of the series. Problem with that though is inevitably it ends up as people sitting around a table and talking about stuff which I don't like to read but apparently don't mind writing. Haven't proof read this one as I want to get past it.
"All of you know me… All of you know who I am, and what I've done."
Ivanovich leant against the wall of the canteen and checked the action of his musket.
"No matter what the Overseer says, or how much the Bluecoats beat us, you know me and I know you."
As they'd agreed the workers had been rallied in the square outside the canteen and Jerren, the leader of the rebels, had climbed up on table to address them. It had been a tight squeeze, but they'd managed to fit in most of them on the benches and standing in aisles or sitting on the rooves of the habitation blocks overhead. They'd passed a message back to the Stargate team in the city to attack at a certain time and held the rally to take advantage of it.
"'For the City', that's what they tell us. But we're not of the city. They say up there its all snow and ice but we know better!"
"Says you, and you said it last time too!" shouted one worker from the crowd. "But we still didn't see this city you're talking about. They need us, our work's the only thing stopping the cold!"
Jerren grinned and drew a pistol from the back of his waist, sighting quickly he fired into one of the skylights. Glass rained down and the workers screamed and scrambled away, but luckily the skylight was too far away for the fall to hurt anyone.
"It's the Memory Stamps friend." Said Jerren, "They've lied to you! But we know better."
The rebel paused for a moment letting the revelation sink in. It had seemed strange to Ivanovich that so few of the workers had been able to break the mental conditioning they'd undergone but he'd agreed with Jerren that with a single clear motion they'd have the greatest success. Now everyone there could see the lights in the city above, rather than the clever facsimile of a snowscape that the Administrator had set up previously.
"What are you?" Jerren called to draw their attention again, "Workers? Slaves? I say neither! You are material! You're the ore, the metals, you're churned out from the mines and flattened by the press. You are the machine! When you wear out you get scrapped, when you break down you're replaced. You're not people, your just product!"
Jerren put his arms up, in one he held the pistol, while the other ended in a stump.
"Which would you have? Are you going to stay down here mangled in the dark till the Bluecoats finally throw you on the scrap heap? Or would you have this?"
He violently thrust the pistol in the air.
"We are the city, we're its blood, its steel! It belongs to us! Stop the machine! Stop the killings and the maimings! Stop being made to forget who you are any time you stand up for yourself!"
Jerren's supporters were cheering him on and the crippled beggars who'd lined the streets of the Pit were waving their sticks and shouting.
"Then stand with us! We'll have the sky before the day is out!"
The workers cheered but Ivanovich saw one of the veterans pushing his way through the crowd, Jerren stooped to listen to his report and then stood again, holding up his hand for the crowd to quiet.
"The Bluecoats are coming! Will you let them walk all over you again?"
A scattered cry of anger came at that and Jerren egged them on. Ivanovich though looked to another of the veterans who'd come over to them.
"'bout thirty of them." Said the rebel, "Usual clubs and a few pistols."
"No rifles?" asked Ivanovich and the rebel shook his head.
"Alright, take you positions, we'll use the mines as planned."
The rebel nodded and made his way off through the crowd. Ivanovich turned to his team, about a dozen of the veteran rebels from the last uprising as well as Sergeant Petrov. "Ready?"
A chorus of affirmation replied and he led them around the canteen building into their ambush positions. It was strange that the Bluecoats weren't using the Kalashnikov rifle copies they'd been provided with by the Administrator but Ivanovich thought the Pit's Overseer had probably underestimated the rally. If it had been a food riot thirty Bluecoats would have been enough.
"I see them." Said one of the others, "They're coming down Steel Street now."
"Ready Petrov?" Ivanovich asked the last member of his team, ready with his own detonator.
"Ready sir."
"Count the number of men to pass the charge closest to us." Ivanovich ordered the lookout."
"None yet, one coming up," the man began, "Two past, three, five, seven, end of the group coming up, eight."
"Now Petrov!"
The blast shook the Pit. Nails, screws and all sorts of metal rubbish made a deadly shrapnel as it shot out, easily piercing the Bluecoat's uniforms and decimating the column.
The rebels charged without orders, firing the muskets and shotguns Chaya had made for them, then using the spent weapons to bludgeon any of the Bluecoats left standing.
"Get their weapons!" shouted one man and Ivanovich knelt beside one of the Bluecoat officers, stripping him of equipment.
"There's no way they'll have missed that, keep to the plan, take the offices and the elevator next." Ivanovich informed them all and they ran off, Ivanovich unslinging his grenade launcher.
As the Captain had predicted the Bluecoats' boots were thundering on the single staircase leading down the side of the Pit from the Overseer's office and the local barracks. To their amusement one of the Bluecoats slipped in his haste to get down the stairs and had to be helped up by his fellows.
"Get into cover and fire only after I do!" Ivanovich called to his team.
Swiftly they were into position and now the Bluecoats were really boiling out of the single entrance to their barracks and the greater city above.
Aiming slightly down the stairs of the entrance Ivanovich fired. The grenade launcher gave a dull 'whump' and he saw the projectile speed into the Pit wall, detonating there and throwing stone and metal up in a large explosion. Pity he only had a few rounds for it.
The others opened up sending the Bluecoats into a frenzy as they ran for cover. It wasn't enough though as the rebels hurled incendiaries over the factory walls to cover the Bluecoats in burning Salium.
The team fired on, advancing in good order through the machinery toward the wrecked stairs. Ivanovich loaded and fired again, this time through the doors of the Overseer's office and the flow of Bluecoats ceased, the last ones being picked off by the musketry of the rebels.
As they approached and prepared the escalade they'd build in parts scattered around the Pit Ivanovich inspected the Bluecoats here. These ones were armed with a strange but familiar looking rifle, a Kalashnikov, but altered somewhat.
"What do you make of them sir?" asked Petrov, cycling the bolt and inspecting the action of the rifle.
"A poor copy. I'm not inclined to trust automatic fire."
The Sergeant nodded, "That's what I was thinking sir, still, if they've made it half as good as ours its still a good rifle."
Ivanovich grimaced, "We can only hope."
They scaled the ladder quickly, demanding and swiftly receiving the surrender of the remaining Bluecoats who'd holed up in the barracks behind the Overseer's table. They took their uniforms and weapons and distributed them to the rebels, Ivanovich's team donning the uniforms and stuffing the red armbands they'd made up to tell friend from foe into their pockets."
"Good luck and I hope your Colonel is as good as you make him out to be." Said Jerren before they left.
"He is." Replied Ivanovich, but stick to the plan anyway."
The riot had two purposes, firstly to get weapons for the rebels as the guards of Pit 2 were the only police troops to have received the new rifles, but also to distract and draw out the Administrator's guards who'd already trained in the use of their new weapons. The rest of the Bluecoats in the city were armed only with pistols, shotguns and various clubs, making them easier prey for the other rebel groups through the city once armed with the explosives Chaya had cooked up.
This distraction would mean the SGC could breach the Administrative tower effectively as because the Stargate was in a building they wouldn't be able to bring in any of the heavier equipment like tanks. Personally Ivanovich thought they might use gas, he remembered there had been a proposal for the use of such weapons to breach a Stargate indoors.
While the rest of the rebels outside had assembled more ladders and were climbing their way up to the skylights and fanning out into the city Ivanovich took his team quietly straight toward the central tower. To anyone walking about they were Bluecoats and Ivanovich saw a few faces at windows as they moved out.
The city above them was well built with numerous tall towers around wide avenues. There were no trees to see although the Captain saw displays of flowers and shrubs in some shopfronts on the ground floors of the towers around them. Above them was the dome itself, protecting the civilisation from the ice age above.
Petrov was with them for the moment, but later he would break off with a detachment and some of the more powerful explosives to try and destroy the Bluecoat headquarters from one of the utility tunnels below. Chaya had cooked up a single large bomb in a backpack that she promised would bring a whole building down if positioned correctly.
Just then they heard the growl of an engine and scattered to either side of the road into alleys. Ivanovich was caught out in the middle and only had time to dash into a shelter, some sort of bus stop perhaps, before a truck came up the road ahead of them. He edged around and looked out to see a large vehicle with six wheels and a high cab with a turret on top.
It didn't seem to be armoured but it was probably the first response of the Bluecoats to the rebellion, a rapid response unit of sorts.
"Take the man in the turret as it goes past me!" he called to the others, "then rush them!"
It was a tense few seconds as the vehicle approached but as soon as he saw the bumper go past the bus stop Ivanovich was moving, he raised his rifle and fired through the window until his weapon was empty, shredding the inside of the cab and killing the three men inside. Petrov took the turret operator with a single well-aimed shot and the others mowed down the Bluecoats as they piled out of the back of the truck.
As he calmed himself after the frantic action the Captain heard voices in the truck. He edged forward drawing a stolen pistol and opened the door, another of the rebels covering him.
He saw no one alive in there and looked around for the voice, it was coming from the dashboard of the truck, from a radio set, or something similar enough to be recognisable as such, inside the cab.
"Get on there." He ordered one of the rebels who began to report their position and that they were proceeding on.
"Negative." Came the voice from the radio, "Proceed to Works 5 and seal the pit there." Evidently their deception was successful.
"Ask for reinforcements." Ivanovich said.
"We heard fighting toward the Commercial Plaza." Said the rebel operator, "request a Guard unit dispatched to that location."
"Negative, all Guard units occupied with defence of the tower. Proceed with previous orders."
The rebel turned to him, "That's bad, they have turrets and canons covering the approaches to the Administrator's tower and your Stargate."
Ivanovich nodded, "I'm aware. But we've also lost the element of surprise, if this lot are up here," he said nodding to the dead men around them, "The headquarters will already have established its own defences. What do you think Petrov?"
The Sergeant frowned, "I think it doesn't matter what the Bluecoats do as long as the Colonel can get set up in the tower." He said, "Get artillery set up on the roof or something and nothing they have will save them."
Ivanovich nodded, "Then let's get on to the tower ourselves, the mission stays the same. The headquarters was a secondary objective anyway."
They hauled the Bluecoats out the truck and cleaned off the blood as best they could so it would look good from the outside, then one grey-haired veteran took the turret and another man the wheel as they barrelled onwards to the Administrator's tower in the centre of the city. Three times they went past patrols of Bluecoats and each time they were let through with only a look at their stolen uniforms until they were only a few blocks away from the tower.
The tower itself wasn't particularly unique compared with the others, it was rather square and blocky like all the rest of the buildings, for the society under the dome valued utility over style. There was a plume of smoke rising from a series of shattered windows halfway up the side.
"Looks like we've got some friends up there." Said one of the rebels, leaning forward to get a better view.
Ivanovich was less pleased, examining the defences. Below the tower and surrounding all entrances there were Bluecoats, these ones armed with the Kalashnikov-copy rifles and with bulkier blue armour than their brethren. They were soldiers not police. Most of them were facing the tower but others were looking out manning turrets and machinegun posts. With a grunt the Captain motioned to the driver and they turned into a side street.
"What's the plan sir?" asked Petrov, climbing out the back and coming to glance around the corner of the building they were hidden behind.
The Colonel always encouraged the officers of the SGC to use their initiative, and Ivanovich remembered one lecture in which Durov told them to consider what they had and what exactly it was they needed to do. Ivanovich had a platoon of medium quality soldiers with medium quality weapons, they weren't elite, nor could they trust the accuracy of the copied rifles. He had a unarmoured truck with a turret and plenty of explosives, as well as a radio.
Could they radio the SGC and have them drop grenades out the tower's windows? No, the radio was providing them with their only intelligence of the wider rebellion and there was no guarantee the radio would even reach the SGC. Perhaps Chaya could have reprogrammed it but Ivanovich certainly couldn't. But if it had to stay on the same channel could they use it as they had previously to perhaps draw some of the Administrator's Guard away from their posts? Or even engineer a conflict between the Guards and the Bluecoat police? No, again it was too complicated and Ivanovich didn't have enough information to even attempt it.
"We've got to break that blockade and get up to the Colonel." He murmured. "Are there any tunnels that go under the roads? We could get through there or blow them and attack." He said aloud.
"If they've got set up here they'll have blocked them off." Said on rebel, rubbing his chin. "There's only one tunnel anyway and it's a damn long one with no cover."
Ivanovich shook his head. If they had more time they might devise some distraction…
"We ram the truck into them, then blow the bomb." Petrov said after a while.
"They'd kill whoever was driving it." Ivanovich dismissed immediately.
"I don't see any choice sir." Petrov said, and Ivanovich turned to see his determined look. "The rebellion needs outside support, if the Guards can seal the Stargate up they'll be able to reinforce and eventually defeat the rebellion, if the rebellion fails we still need the Stargate for reinforcements. I'll go sir."
"No you won't Sergeant, we'll find another way!"
"I'll go also." said the grey-haired rebel from earlier with a smile, walking up to stand beside Petrov. "I'll drive; you stay in the back with the bomb. I'm done anyway, it'll be a good death, someone tell Jerren I didn't let him down."
Petrov nodded once and held out his hand for the rebel to shake. He turned to Ivanovich after. "Sir you'll still need to take them after we go in." he said, and he said it in such a straightforward manner that Ivanovich could hardly believe the last member of his team was going to make the attack.
The Captain was speechless, impotent to action as the others set the truck in readiness. It was shameful to see Petrov preparing the bomb with such easy as Ivanovich failed to prevent the mutiny.
Eventually Petrov came up and saluted, and the gesture shook Ivanovich from his haze. He straightened and gave as best a reply as he could, then shook Petrov's hand. "Good luck Sergeant."
"No land beyond the Volga sir." Grinned Petrov.
Then he climbed in and another rebel struck the cab's roof, the engine roaring into life. The truck sprang forward, wheels almost skidding as the rebel raced toward the barricade. The Administrator's guards were slow to recognise the threat but soon their machinegunners opened up, the truck's engine block halting most of the bullets. The engine spluttered out but it was too late, the truck rammed the barricade, crushing two men and sending another flying as it passed, by now the driver was dead ten times over and he slumped forward, a smile on his face as the truck mounted the curb and flipped. Then there was silence as the Guards raced to the downed vehicle.
But Petrov saw his duty through and the second later an enormous explosion threw all the Guards off their feet, sending a fireball up into the dome and shattering the windows all along the street.
"Come on!" Ivanovich heard himself yell and he sprinted forward.
As they ran secondary explosions sounded off, the ammunition the Guard's had held in storage cooking off and sending more bullets flying into the remaining Guards.
Ivanovich crashed into cover after one whizzed past his head, firing back at a few Bluecoats remaining, their helmets bloody, eardrums destroyed. They put up little fight and Ivanovich looked to the wreck of the truck, Petrov had done his part and now it was time for them. He saw movement behind him and heard a scream, the Captain dropped, firing his weapon at a figure lunging toward him.
It was a woman; she must have run out one of the blocks nearby. She didn't rise, three bloody holes in her back where his rounds had gone through. She was crying, she had been before he'd shot her, and she looked toward one dead Bluecoat resting dead against a post.
"Salvage anything you can and let's go!" he ordered and looked at the tower. Had the soldiers above heard the explosion? Did they know they had allies down at the bottom of the tower? He absently drew the red armband from his pocket and put it on. Deception would be of little use anymore, and he didn't have the stomach for it after Petrov's sacrifice.
As Ivanovich waited for the others to strip the dead guards of their equipment he looked back at the woman he'd shot. She'd crawled over to her lover and draped herself feebly over him in an embrace. The man was quite dead, but the Captain was surprised she wasn't already. Just audible over the sounds of the battle in the other parts of the city he heard a deathly rattle as the air and blood bubbled from her shredded lungs. With a grimace he turned away.
"Alright let's get moving!" he called to the others and led them into the Administrative tower.
There were no guards at the bottom, and Ivanovich divided the team into two. He set one of the veteran rebels as the leader of the other half and set on up two stairwells, thighs burning as they headed to the top. Soon they could hear the sounds of gunfire echoing around them and the Captain ducked back as a body fell down, toppling bloodied from the battle above.
As they neared the next floor Ivanovich stuck his head out and tried to see what was waiting for them. He could hardly tell from such an angle but the single shots of the Bluecoat rifles were louder than the bursts of the Kalashnikovs so he assumed those closest to them were the Administrator's guards rather than fellow Soviets.
Then there came shouting and Ivanovich ran up the last few steps. He motioned for those in his team still wearing the Bluecoat uniform to come forward with him and rounded the corner. "Reinforcements coming in!" he called before him and breached the door.
The Bluecoats were clustered around a heavy desk and several metal cases, bullets ricocheting off the walls all around them. Their leader, visor up and Kalashnikov-copy in his hand looked up at them. "Good!" he exclaimed, lowering his rifle, "Now-" but Ivanovich shot three rounds, one striking the Bluecoat in the eye, the others further down wrecking his jaw and tearing his throat in two.
Taken on a flank the Bluecoats disintegrated and the rebels got among them quickly killing any that had survived the attack. They held up a red cloth over the barricade and the Soviet fire from the other side ceased.
"Who's that?" came a voice.
"Ivanovich, SG-2!"
"Come out slowly."
The Captain did as he was bid and saw a line of soldiers facing him.
"I don't recognise you." He told the Lieutenant in command.
"Sokolov, A-6. We'll have to take you in sir."
Ivanovich nodded, "Is the Colonel commanding?"
Sokolov nodded.
"Then take me to him."