Starcruiser Polaris: Blood of Patriots

by Richard Tongue

   When he'd returned, the bright, happy man she'd known was dead, replaced with a brooding, bitter, broken man. The Underground had given him something to occupy himself, a cause to replace the one he had lost during the war, but it could do nothing to restore his soul. Her mother had left, abandoning the two of them before they could destroy her reputation. Which hadn't stopped the Political Directorate throwing her in the prison camp where she later died, years later.

   As strange at it seemed, when her father had died, during that raid on Triton, leaving a sixteen year old girl to command the remnants of his resistance cell, it had almost been a relief. Part of him had died on this ship, the most important part. The ColSec bullet had simply finished the job, releasing him from the agony that had become his life.

   And now, hers. Since the age of twelve, all she had known was one safehouse after another, constantly on the run, never any time to settle down, make friends, have any sort of a childhood worthy of the name. Most of the few people she'd grown close to were dead, or scattered halfway across the galaxy, or locked in a prison camp from which they could never escape.

   “Attention,” Rojek's voice barked over the speakers. “Stand by for main reactor test in five minutes. Secure all systems. That is all.”

   Polaris was a world she'd known so much about, had dreamed of for years, but somehow it felt like a world in which she didn't belong. Curtis had stepped back into his command as though he had never left, casting off the last shadows of the drunkard she'd met on Titan so few days ago. Rojek appeared to have lost ten years, and most of Hanoi's crew had adapted instantly to their new roles, taking advantage of the hasty preparation and stolen textbooks she'd acquired.

   This was the dream. The beginning of what might be a successful revolution, and yet she found herself in a strange situation. Even given everything that was happening, all the panic of preparation, knowing that enemy ships were incoming, she didn't have anything to do. She was a covert operations commando, a specialist in infiltration, close-quarters combat, with a side order of the political intrigue needed to hold what passed for the resistance network together, a hundred different groups with wildly diverse goals and ideas, from the neo-monarchists of Zemlya to the anarcho-theocrats of Caledonia, all of them agreeing with the basic idea of liberation from the Federation with only the vaguest suggestion of what the post-Federation would look like.

   They weren't ready. She knew that much. A hundred scattered cells, distributed all over Colonial space, only a handful of informants on Earth itself. All of their work told them that the population would rise up if they thought they had a chance of success, if there was something out there to hope for, but the chances still seemed so slender. It would have been better to wait for a few more years, but Keranos had jumped the gun when he'd discovered this ship, giving the Underground a chance they couldn't afford to pass up, one that might never come again. And even knowing that there was a restrictive time limit, that both the Federation and the Commonwealth would be on their way, she'd taken the chance without a second thought.

   “Attention,” Norton's voice said. “Stand by for thruster test. Watch for potential gravitational shifts. Thirty seconds to first firing. Sensor team, prepare for systems check. That's all.”

   From down a side corridor, Hunter walked up, the same awestruck look on her face that she'd seen from everyone else who had transferred on board. Cordova made her way over to her, looking back up at the towering engineering deck, four levels of access-ways and balconies for equipment, crawlspaces tunneling off in all directions through the ship.

   “Hell of a ship, isn't she,” Hunter said. “Almost enough to make me wish I didn't have a girl of my own waiting for me.”

   “Not too late to transfer over,” Cordova replied.

   “Hanoi's my girl. I've served on her for fifteen years, as Cadet, Mate and Master. I'm not going to leave her now when she needs me the most. But I couldn't resist taking one of the shuttles to have a look at this beast for myself.” Turning to Cordova, she added, “Feel like a fifth wheel?”

   “How'd you guess?”

   “It wasn't hard,” she said. “I know how you feel. All of my people are over here, just a small skeleton staff waiting back on Hanoi. And our prisoners, of course. I've left Sokolov minding the store on the bridge.”

   “He's a shuttle pilot...”

   “Acting First Mate, actually. With Randall locked up, I don't have anyone left for the job. Look, if you can't find yourself useful here, come back over to Hanoi with me. I'll find you something to do, and it wouldn't hurt to spread the command staff around a little. Just in case something goes wrong with this clever little plan of ours.”

   “Nervous?”

   “If you aren't, I'll really start to get worried. We're running this mission on the thinnest shoestring you ever saw, and I'm far from convinced that we'll pull it off. Though I've got to admit that I never really thought we'd find Polaris at all.”

   “Then why...”

   “Because at worst, we'd end up defecting, and that would probably have been a better future for my crew than anything being offered by the Federation. They've got to come first. You know that.” Looking around again, she added, “This was your father's dream, Major. And you've got to see it brought to life.” Suddenly, the main lights flashed on, all at once, dismissing the shadows that had dominated the deck. “I guess they got the primary reactor working.”

   “One more step.” She looked around, shook her head, then said, “No, I ought to stay over here for the moment. Make sure there's nothing needed. And I'm sure they can find a use for a spare pair of hands. I guess I've just got myself a little daunted.”

   With a shrug, Hunter replied, “Can't blame me for trying a little press-ganging. It's going to get lonely over on Hanoi at this rate.” Gesturing to a stack of boxes by the corner, she added, “Give me a hand to the shuttle, at least?”

   “We've got everyone bringing over spares...”

   “From the Commander's mess. I scavenged some luxury-issue food packs. Still on date. At least we can eat something that tastes like real meat while we're working around the clock to keep the ship going.”

   Cordova smiled, and replied, “I won't tell anyone if you don't. Here, let me.”

   With armfuls of boxes in hand, the two of them walked down the corridors, making their way to the waiting shuttle, the occasional sprinting technician rushing on one errand or another, periodic announcements echoing through the corridors. Somehow, the ship was coming back to life, as though restoring the oxygen to the internal atmosphere had given it renewed vigor, renewed energy.

   “Hanoi's going to seem really cramped after this,” Hunter said, breaking the silence. “Even after all these years, I still catch my head on the threshold of my cabin every so often. They built that ship to last, but they didn't worry too much about the comfort of the poor bastards crewing her.”

   “I don't think Polaris is going to be a pleasure cruise,” Cordova said, as they turned the corner to the docking airlock, the hatches open to reveal the waiting shuttle within.

   “Just dump them in the cargo space,” Hunter said. “I'll do the rest.” She let Cordova lead the way, and as the rebel dropped the crates, she turned with a start as the hatch slammed shut, lights growing dark, a pair of figures stepping forward from the cockpit with pistols in hand.

   “Hunter, what the hell...”

   “Quiet,” Hunter said. “Gabrielle Cordova, you are hereby placed under arrest for treason, piracy, sedition and conspiracy to commit terrorist acts. As well as about fifty other charges we'll get to later, but suffice to say that you're going to be taking the Last Walk as soon as the fighting is over.” As Randall stepped out of the shadows, she added, “You thought you were so damned confident, didn't you. So sure that all of us felt the same way you do.”

   “You're a ColSec agent,” she said with a sigh.

   “I'm an op
erative of the Political Directorate. Assigned to crack into your pathetic little resistance cell. You really need to be a lot less trusting. We had your mark from the beginning.” Gesturing around the shuttle, she added, “Thanks for finding Polaris for us, by the way. We had some ideas about her location, but this way the glory goes to us, not some pathetic little Fleet upstarts. They're too arrogant as it is. Maybe this incipient catastrophe will convince the Parliament that we need to be in direct control. I might even get a Starcruiser of my own.”

   Looking at his watch, Randall said, “Our friends will be here in an hour, Captain. We'd better get back to Hanoi before they arrive. Speaking for myself, I don't want to be a part of any collateral damage.”

   “Sit down,” Hunter said, “and stay silent. You're dead, either way, but I can make it a lot harder than it has to be.” She paused, then said, “Of course, if you'd consider giving us details on some of the other parts of your resistance network, we might possibly be able to work out some sort of a deal. Think about that. A second chance at life. Not many people get that.”

   “She won't take the deal,” Randall replied. “Not smart enough.”

   “I'm doing this to protect the lives of millions of people, to free them from tyrants like you,” Cordova replied. “And when I go to meet my Maker, I'll know that I've done everything I can to make the universe a better place than I found it. I'll be able to face him and his judgment with my head held high. Tell me, Captain. How will you meet Him?”

   “Don't be stupid. Dead is dead. As you're going to find out soon enough.”

   The shuttle lurched clear of Polaris, heading on the short journey to Hanoi, hovering in orbit on the far side of the asteroid. Cordova looked at the cockpit, briefly tempted to make an attempt to reach the controls, hoping perhaps that she could snatch them from Randall, or at least send a signal to Polaris, but Hunter's gun remained aimed at her chest. Worst of all, she felt like a fool. She'd let her guard down for a moment, and was paying the price for that inattention. And unless Curtis could pull off a miracle, so would everyone else.

   “Docking sequence commit,” Randall said. The shuttle slammed into the side of the tanker, double airlocks cracking open to reveal a smug Saxon standing at the threshold, pistol in hand, a guard standing next to her, one of the shuttle technicians. “You ready?”

   “All the way to detention. I'm sure someone's going to want to question her.”

   “At least I was right about you, Saxon,” Cordova said, walking towards her. “They'll be another time, another place. I'll have my day.”

   “Maybe,” Saxon said, “but that could be a long time. I've got this, Captain. I'll see you up on the bridge in a minute. For the Federation.”

   “For the Federation,” Hunter said, echoing the patriotic phrase. Saxon gestured for Cordova to lead the way down the corridors, a mirror of their previous trip through the ship, and allowed the guard to step between the two of them as they curved their way to the detention area.

   “She really did a good job,” Saxon said. “Three of the traitors sent over to join their friends on Polaris, the rest locked up. I'm sure the Committee will give her the reward she deserves. How about you, Greer? You think you're going to get the reward you deserve?”

   “I damn well hope so. I'm not in this for the glory,” the brutal technician replied.

   “Tell you what,” Saxon said. “I think I can arrange for you to get your reward right now.” Coldly, emotionlessly, she pulled the trigger on her pistol twice in quick succession, a pair of cracks echoing through the silent corridors as Greer tumbled to the deck, his pistol dropping from his hands, eagerly snatched by Cordova, who looked back at Saxon in shock.

   “Don't look so surprised,” Saxon said. “I told you I was on your side. Despite current events, I still think I'm with the smart team. Of course, with me on it, that's guaranteed.” Glancing at her watch, she said, “They disabled the alarms. Very useful. But when we don't turn up at the detention area in a few minutes, I have a feeling they're going to notice.”

   “Communications,” Cordova said. “We've got to warn Polaris.”

   “Do we?” Saxon replied, cracking a smile. “Right now the traitors think they've got the upper hand. Maybe we can give them a little surprise. Though if we stay here, we're dead.”

   “I'm with you,” Cordova said, pausing for a second. “This isn't another trap, is it?”

   “What's it going to take for you to start trusting me?” With a sigh, Saxon said, “If this is a trap, you're screwed. Does that help?”

   “It helps. Let's go.”

  Chapter 17

   “I'll say this for the Federation,” Voronova said, running her hands over her chosen fighter, “They make some beautiful War Birds.”

   “Raven Mark Fives,” a starry-eyed Montgomery said. “I used to build models of these when I was a kid. Had two of them hanging over my bed when I grew up. I think I've still got one somewhere in my kit.” Reverently patting the hull, he added, “I never thought I'd actually end up flying one for real. I didn't get any further than Hawk trainers before they kicked me out of the Academy.”

   “This isn't a trainer, kid,” Kani said, climbing into the cockpit. “When we ride fire in one of these, we do it for real.” He looked across at a gloomy Nguyen, standing by the launch controls. “Don't worry, Mel. You'll have your day soon enough. Haggard said that you'll be in one piece again in a week or so. I don't think this is going to be the last battle.”

   “You're going to get to answer that question soon, Win,” she replied. “I didn't think they'd let you sit in a fighter, and neither did you.”

   “What question?” Voronova asked.

   “Who are you fighting for?” Nguyen replied.

   “That's easy,” Voronova said. “Freedom, truth...”

   “And the American Way,” Nguyen said, sarcastically. “Life can be a lot more complicated than that, Diana. I'm not sure you've ever...”

   “And it can be a hell of a lot more simple if you chose,” Montgomery said. “I grew up pretty damned quick after they tossed me out. A Political Undesirable because I had a great-aunt in the Liberation Army of Caledonia that I'd never heard of before. Then the glorious protectors of the people demanded bribe after bribe, and the best I could do was ship out as a sensor technician on a beaten up old tramp tanker, one that spent most of its time lumbering between Earth and Titan.”

   “Kid, you might have had a tough time, but…,” Kani began

   “That's it,” Montgomery said. “I didn't. Not compared to a hell of a lot of people, I didn't. They're the ones who need your help. The colonies working eighteen-hour days, knowing that their children are doomed to the same life because they had the misfortune to be born on the wrong planet. People thrown into prison camps because their existence is an inconvenience to someone with influence. And don't you dare tell me that the Commonwealth, or the Terran Economic Community, were any damned better, because I don't believe it! You want something worth fighting for?” Looking around the deck, the few technicians working on the fighters turning to face him. “This is something worth fighting for. The only desperate chance we have to rid ourselves of those dammed Terran tyrants without selling out our souls to your Hundred Families.”

   Kani looked at Montgomery, and said, “You finished?”

   “I guess so.”

   “Then listen up. If you go out into space with all that baggage holding you down, you won't last ten seconds in a firefight. This isn't a glorious crusade. You are at war. Ever killed a man?”

   “No.”

   “I have. Several times. And it doesn't get any easier, and all the ideals and dreams in the world won't make it better, and you'll lose a piece of your soul every time.” Tapping his chest, he said, “I swore an oath, and maybe it meant more to me than it did to the people I swore it to, but I've got to do what I think is right.”

   “Turn on Pola
ris,” Montgomery said, “and I will shoot you down.”

   “You'll be dead before you get a chance, kid,” Nguyen said. “Kani's the best pilot in the Fleet. Not many people with ten kills to their names.”

   “He cheats,” Voronova said with a smile. “Kani, Monty's right. I'm tired of waiting around and being told that we have to wait for freedom until tomorrow. Yes, life in the Commonwealth is better than in the Federation, but we're still just sitting back and watching while everything falls apart. The Council is so obsessed with holding onto what they have left that they've forgotten what we're fighting for. Hell, you know what would happen if we did end up beating them, Win. They'd just assume they could take over, just like they did before.”

   “Not everyone thinks that way,” Nguyen replied. “The Reclamation Council, and Fleet Ops under Commodore McKinnon...”

   “And the Council is still in charge, ten bitter old men lusting after their lost wealth,” Voronova said. “I'm with the Underground. Maybe I always was.” She reached out, clasping Montgomery's hand, and added, “Maybe you should stay back on Polaris.”

   “If Federation ships turn up, I'll fight them,” Kani replied. “No doubt on that. I'll defend Polaris if they attack her. But if Commonwealth ships turn up… then I guess I'll do what I have to do. Whatever that ends up being.”

   “Bad way to go into a firefight, Win,” Nguyen said.

   “No good ways to go into battle, Mel. You should know that much by now.” He looked at the status panel on the fighter, nodded, and said, “I think we're ready for a test flight.” Turning to Montgomery, he said, “You might think you're a hot-shot...”

   “I don't.”

   “That's even worse. Look, you've had some training, and I'm sure you've ridden simulator time, but none of that is going to remotely prepare you for the real thing. Even as things are, the only reason I'm taking you up is that Commander Curtis ordered it. I think you've got a better than even chance of being dead in the next few hours. That said, you still want to go?”