Starcruiser Polaris: Blood of Patriots

by Richard Tongue

   “With two Starcruisers and a fighter wing ripping us to pieces along the way.”

   “Not if I remotely assume control of the satellites and arrange them to provide defensive fire to cover our withdrawal. If I could borrow one of the bridge workstations for a couple of minutes, I'm relatively sure that I get all the access I need from right here.”

   Turning to her, Cordova asked, “Why should you do that?”

   Cracking a smile, Saxon replied, “Consider that there is no chance that the Political Directorate will believe that I am innocent of collaboration with one party or another, and that most of my little projects back on Sinaloa will not remain concealed for long in the event of my absence. Your successful attempt to press gang me did an excellent job of burning my bridges back to the Federation, Major, and Hanoi looks like the safest place in the galaxy to me right now.”

   “They'll catch us anyway, Major,” Norton said. “I can't crank up the acceleration high enough to beat both of them, and a few good rounds from their mass drivers will rip us to pieces. I don't think we have anything to lose.”

   “If this is an attempt at treachery, Saxon, I'll warn you know that you won't live to enjoy any bounty you might be thinking of collecting.”

   “The thought had...well, it had crossed my mind. Nevertheless, I assure you that I will do as I have said, and that it represents the only chance you have of escaping this system.”

   Shaking her head, Cordova turned back to the helm, and said, “Norton, intercept course on the shuttle, and take us into the defensive perimeter. We're going to try the slingshot maneuver. Rojek, Saxon can use your console, but I want you to watch every move she makes, and if she tries anything you are not completely comfortable with, don't wait for the order. Just put her down on the spot.”

   “Got it,” Rojek said, rising from his chair. “After you.”

   “I must say,” Saxon replied, taking his place, “I've never felt quite so much at home anywhere before. Feed me all the processing power you can spare. I'm going to need to slice through the outer firewall. They'll have changed my access codes by now, but my deep-level pass-codes should still work.”

   “Two minutes to shuttle contact,” Norton said.

   “Cygnus has launched fighters, Major,” Montgomery added. “I make twenty-four birds in the air. Nothing from Arcturus, yet. I'd say they're hanging back, waiting to see what happens. Smart of them to hold something in reserve.”

   “Arcturus has the smarter commander,” Norton replied. “Twenty-four fighters is overkill. He's committing them too early in the battle.”

   “Want me to hail them and suggest Armstrong pulls them back, maybe give him a few helpful suggestions?” Rojek replied, looking down at the console as data streamed across the multiple displays. “We're through the first layer of security. You aren't bad at this, Saxon.”

   “I've had a lot of practice,” she said, her fingers dancing across the panel. “One minute to firing. How long to weapons range?”

   “Seventy-five seconds,” Norton replied. “Nothing like cutting it close.”

   “Enemy fighters are moving into spearhead formation,” Montgomery said. “If we make this work, they'll be shot to pieces.”

   “No if,” Saxon replied. “When. Have a little faith.”

   “Signal from Cygnus,” Strickland said from the rear. “They're ordering us to stand down and surrender.” Looking up from her console, she added, “They aren't even offering us terms. Arrogant bastards.”

   “We'll be turning that around in a minute,” Saxon said. “Got it. They'll be opening up on the fighters in forty seconds, then turning to Cygnus.” Frowning, she looked up at the tactical display, and said, “Arcturus is hanging way back. Smart bastard.”

   “Do I fly an evasive course?” Norton asked.

   “Go for maximum speed,” Cordova replied. “Either the satellites will save us or the combined barrage will rip us to pieces. Even the fanciest flying won't prevent that at this stage. Just focus on getting us down to Coronado.”

   Silence dominated the bridge, all eyes on the tactical display, watching Hanoi slowly move towards the incoming fighters, heading for the dotted line that marked the outer limits of the protective satellite screen. A single track pointed towards Hanoi, the shuttle burning her engines far hotter than her designers had ever intended, spinning around on her thrusters in a desperate bid to match course and speed for docking. One mistake, and the shuttle would spiral out towards the sun, easy prey for a fighter strike from Arcturus.

   “Ten seconds,” Montgomery said, reaching for the restraints, bolting himself into position on his couch. Cordova looked across with a thin smile. It could make no possible difference. If those fighters got within range, their particle beams would rip through the hull like butter, with the impact of a thousand kinetic projectiles to finish them off. Back at Titan, fears of the wrath of the Commerce Directorate might have held back Commander Armstrong, but he was undoubtedly now working on orders to defeat Hanoi at any cost, regardless of the collateral damage he might inflict.

   “Firing sequence!” Rojek said, and a smile spread across the veteran's face. “Satellites are opening up on the fighters! Multiple impacts already, and the formation is scattered to hell and gone. We've got them, Major!”

   “I told you,” Saxon said, a smug gleam on her face. “Perhaps next time...”

   “Don't think this means I trust anything other than your instinct for self-preservation,” Cordova snapped. “You're in this to save your own skin, nothing more.”

   “True,” Saxon replied, “but at least I'm honest about it.” Rising from the console, she said, “I presume that I'm to return to my previous hazardous position.”

   “Shuttle docking now, Major,” Montgomery said. “Damn, that's one hot pilot.”

   “Slingshot course programmed,” Norton replied. “Arcturus is on the move. Heading to intercept us. They're burning fast, way above spec.”

   Nodding, Cordova said, “She waited to see what we had in our hand before she made her move. Smart. What about Cygnus?”

   “Smashing her way into the swarm. I think she's trying for the satellites.” Glee filled Montgomery's voice, and he added, “The bastard's shooting down his own defense network!”

   “Saves us the trouble,” Cordova replied. “How long until we reach the gravitational threshold, Roxy? At maximum possible acceleration? Can Arcturus catch us?”

   “Hold on, hold on,” the pilot said. “I make fourteen minutes before we can risk engaging the Tau Drive, throwing everything we've got into the boost. Arcturus will be crossing our path at about the same time. There isn't very much in it.” With a shrug, she continued, “Fifty-fifty, Major. We'll make it or we won't. The rest is up to Merry Sir Isaac.”

   “Maybe someone should burn a candle to the Law of Gravitation,” Strickland quipped.

   The doors at the rear of the bridge opened, Curtis rushing through. He looked at Saxon, then turned in surprise to Cordova, questions racing to his lips.

   “It's a long story,” Rojek said, forestalling him. “We'll have time to handle it later. Suffice to say that we managed to suborn the local defense network.”

   Cordova turned to him, and asked, “Are you taking the conn, sir?”

   “Yes,” he replied, glancing at Hunter, standing on the far side of the bridge, a pistol leveled at Saxon's chest. “If you don't mind, Captain.”

   “You've got the command experience, sir.”

   Nodding, Curtis settled into the chair, Cordova moving to take a vacant console next to Rojek, calling up a strategic view of local space.

   “We don't need to worry about Cygnus any more, sir. She's out of the firing line. I'm more concerned about Arcturus. She's on an intercept vector, closing fast, and she hasn't launched her fighters yet.”

   “Nor will she, not that close to a deep gravity well,” Curtis replied. “Diaz kn
ows a lot better than that. She'll be relying on her primary armament, and if she's on that trajectory, she thinks that she can complete the intercept, or she'd be thinking of something else. Roxy, any chance of increasing our acceleration?”

   “We're at Moretti-screaming-down-my-ear maximum now, sir,” Norton replied. “There's nothing more in the tank. My best guess gives them a chance of a single salvo three seconds before they engage the Tau Drive.”

   “Prepare to alter course on my command,” he replied. “But wait until I give the word.” He peered at the display, looking over the strategic view, nodding to himself. “Felix, I want a tight-beam connection with Commander Diaz.”

   “It's not going to work, Teddy,” Rojek said. “She's a loyal officer of the Federation Fleet.”

   “I still consider myself to be an officer in that very same Fleet.” At the stunned looks on the faces of the rebel crew, he continued, “I swore an oath to defend the people of the Federation from all enemies external and internal. In my judgment, the government of the Federation itself represents such a threat, and therefore my obligation as an officer is to fight it with everything I have.” Turning back to Rojek, he continued, “Now, Felix, if you please, I'd like my channel.”

   Cordova looked at Curtis with fresh eyes. When she'd first met him on Titan, she'd had to check the file images twice to make sure that she had found the right person, the man sitting on the bar stool seemingly completely different from the officer her father had spent much of her childhood telling her about. When they'd arrived at Sinaloa Station, something of the officer he had once been had returned. Now, all at once, it was flooding back. There was a spark in his eyes that she'd never seen before, and a confidence was flowing into him, and from him somehow to everyone else on the bridge.

   The viewscreen snapped on, showing the image of a stark, aristocratic woman sitting at the heart of her command center, officers and technicians running around beside her. She was wearing noise-canceling headphones, a microphone close to her mouth, and Cordova couldn't help noticing that none of her crew were within range to hear what she was saying. Diaz's eyes widened as she saw Curtis sitting in Hanoi's command chair, looking back at her with a cool, confident look in his eyes.

   “It's been a long time, Commander,” he said. “Too long.”

   “Looking at you with those rebels makes me wish it had been longer. Damn it, Teddy, do you realize what you've done? You and that band of terrorists are right at the top of the Most Wanted lists, maximum rewards for your capture. Half the Fleet's been scrambled to hunt you down. We just happened to be in the area.” She looked to her side, and Cordova saw the ubiquitous black-uniformed figure of a Political Directorate watchdog, standing at the rear of Arcturus' bridge.

   “I'm doing what I should have done twenty years ago. And you and I should be on the same side, damn it. You know what sort of monsters you are serving. It was bad enough before the Uprising. Now it's a hell of a lot worse, and going downhill every day. This isn't a government of the people any more. It's a tyranny, a boot stamped on their faces for all eternity.”

   “Do you want a Second Purge, Teddy?” Diaz asked. “How many millions have to die for your crazy dreams.” She took a deep breath, then said, “Look, there's a way out for you, and a lot of your crew as well. I know you've got Cordova's daughter on board, and a few other known rebels. Rojek, as strange as it sounds. Turn them over to me and surrender the ship, and I'll spin some sort of story that you were captured, managed to escape and retake Hanoi, something like that. Nobody will ask too many questions as long as this nightmare comes to an end.”

   “And I thought you knew me,” Curtis said. “Do you think for a single moment that I would make a deal like that with anyone? Even you.”

   “You can trust...”

   “It's not a matter of trust. It's a matter of faith. And loyalty. Words that I thought you understood a lot better than the rest of the people still wearing that costume. I guess I was wrong about that. We all came out of Mareikuna differently. Kit and Felix did a hell of a lot better than I did. They've worked for years to give some meaning to that nightmare, while Lopez and I drank ourselves into a stupor. He didn't come out of that death spiral, but I did.” Sitting back in his chair, he said, “My last piece of advice for you, Liz. Kill me. Bring this ship down. Because if you don't, I'm not going to stop until I've won. Think about that. Hanoi out.”

   With a barely-suppressed smile, Cordova said, “That could have gone better, Commander.”

   “No, it went about as I expected,” he replied. “If she's half the person I remember, she'll think about that. It'll nag at her, tug at her conscience. Do I expect her to switch sides? No. But it might slow her at the critical instant, give us the opportunity we need to get out of the system.” Turning to Montgomery, he asked, “Any signals from the station?”

   “ColSec has called a general alert, sir, and there are reports of riots taking place in some of the lower areas.”

   “A revolt?” Cordova asked, eagerly.

   “Nothing so noble, ma'am,” the technician replied. “Looting mostly. I guess our two assaults thinned out the local security detachments enough that some of the petty criminals decided to have a party on our credit. Some of the footage is pretty bad.” He paused, then added, “Cygnus has launched shuttles towards the station. Heavy transports. They must be moving assault squads in to provide assistance.”

   “Good,” Curtis said, nodding. “That'll slow them down a little.”

   “Arcturus will be right on our tail,” Rojek predicted.

   “Will they?” he replied. “Strickland, go down to the lower deck. Find an escape pod, and load it with all the explosives you can find. Then have someone record a message reporting that prisoners have escaped from our lower decks, that they have captured Major Cordova, and that they want to hand her over in exchange for their safety.”

   “You cunning bastard,” Norton said. “You're turning an escape pod into a missile.”

   “Clever,” Saxon added. “I approve. I might have joined the right side after all.”

   “That'll only work once, Commander,” Rojek warned. “And once we do it, they'll shoot down any escape pods we ever launch on general principles.”

   “Any captured rebels are as good as dead anyway,” Cordova replied. “Better a clean death like that than dying slowly in an interrogation cell. I agree.”

   “I'm on my way, sir,” Strickland replied, running for the elevator, barking instructions into a communicator. Cordova turned to watch her go, then looked across at Curtis, a frown on her face.

   “Do you really think the plan will work, Commander?”

   “If it was entirely up to Diaz, Major, maybe not, but I'm guessing her Political Officer will be taking an interest in the situation. They aren't all like Felix, and even back in the old days, they could override the decision of the commanding officer on certain specific occasions. I'm guessing this would count.”

   “Probably,” Rojek replied. “He looked pretty young for the job. Vaguely familiar, though.” Running through the database, he added, “Ah. Councilor Denisov's youngest.”

   “Nepotism,” Curtis said. “Our greatest asset. Though one that won't last long. As soon as they realize we're a serious threat, you'll find them putting their best up against us.”

   “Those are precisely the people we might turn to our side,” Cordova replied.

   “We can hope, Major. We can hope.”

   The minutes dripped away as Hanoi raced closer to the shining blue orb of Coronado, only a few spots of brown and purple to break up the featureless expanse of water that smothered the world, her atmosphere reaching out with gravitational tendrils to suck them back in, hurling them onto a new trajectory. Arcturus closed on their tail, racing closer to them with every second, her turrets turning to bear on Hanoi. One good salvo would do the job, strand them permanently in the system, force them to either su
rrender or face a desperate fight to the finish.

   “Signal from Strickland,” Montgomery said. “Escape pod ready for launch.”

   “Let it fly, Spaceman,” Curtis ordered, and the object appeared on the display, racing towards Arcturus, broadcasting its duplicitous message, designed to tell the eager officers on the pursuing ship exactly what they wanted to hear. Cordova turned to the monitor, knowing that the main armament of the enemy ship would be training on the pod, that one twitch of a button would bring their plans to an end.

   Slowly it eased closer, sliding towards a safe pickup point, and there was silence on the deck as the crew waited, only Norton breaking the spell as she prepared to activate the Tau Drive, bare seconds away, setting the controls to allow them to flee the system.

   At the last instant, the pod changed course, burning the last of its reserve fuel. Arcturus' turrets spat fire and flame at their target, but they couldn't find the range in time, futile shots pounding into the night as the tiny pod found its mark, slamming into the spindly arms of the Tau Drive, snapping one of them in two in a brief ribbon of flame.

   “Ten seconds!” Norton said.

   “They've lost their firing solution!” Rojek added, triumphantly. “We've done it!”

   “Activating drive!”

   The familiar bubble of reality formed around the tanker, the stars ahead red-shifting as space warped all around them, hurtling them towards their goal at thousands of times the speed of light. Curtis sat back in his chair, nodding in satisfaction.

   “That's more like it,” he said. “But don't get cocky. Those repairs will take less than six hours to complete, if that, and all we've done is guarantee that both ships will come after us in formation. We've slowed them down a little. That's all. Having said that, good work everyone.” Turning to Saxon, he said, “I understand our deal was passage in the brig.”

   “Under the circumstances...”