Summary

Portrait of Edmond Hamilton Edmond Hamilton Citadel of the Star Lords

There was no co-pilot. Only Price, and Linna, and one man. Price felt a secret surge of assurance, of power, like when you're riding a streak of luck and the dice can't fall any way but right. He sat quietly, looking out the cabin port.
He saw almost at once that the starships were gone. The whole Vurna fleet must have taken off, shaking the Citadel with their leaving. Probably most of the men had gone with it. The deserted appearance of the Citadel, the lack of guards, the lack of a co-pilot, all pointed to a skeleton force. If we're still alive, and there's still a world, Linna had said.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Edmond Hamilton Edmond Hamilton Citadel of the Star Lords

The ship stood like a tower of white metal, enormous, slim, delicate, a thing of slumbering power that caught the throat with awe and wonder. There were no trees anywhere near it, and the earth underneath was fused and hardened to a substance more durable than iron or concrete.
Linna said, "That is one reason we do not want men in the Belt. There is danger of being caught in a take-off or a landing."
The aerodyne flashed past, and Price looked back as long as he could at the dwindling shape, splendid but curiously lonely in the middle of nowhere.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Edmond Hamilton Edmond Hamilton Citadel of the Star Lords

Their tremendous cruisers had come out of the blue, had poised above the Earth, and then had struck.
Every city, every big town, every atomic power-plant, every arsenal, every important bridge, viaduct, dam and factory. In one week of holocaust, they had been smashed by the remorseless cruisers that went round and round the planet. Millions died, that week. And the Star Lords' cruisers went away.
Quickly, they had returned. This time, not to destroy but to seize. What had been the fat, smiling lands of Illinois and Indiana, they had made their domain. In it, they built their Citadel.
Source: Gutenberg

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