Starcruiser Polaris: Terrible Swift Sword

by Richard Tongue

   She turned to the door, paused, then replied, “I don't like to abandon ship, sir.”

   “You've got a job to do, Lieutenant, and you can't do that here. Good luck.”

   She waited for a moment, nodded, then said, “Aye, sir. Goodbye, Commander,” and walked into the elevator with half a dozen technicians, the doors sliding shut as they began their rapid journey down to the hangar deck. He looked up at Petrova and smiled, gesturing at the door.

   “I suppose ordering you to leave would be a waste of time.”

   “A complete waste of time,” she said. “I'm glad you didn't bother.” Looking at the screen, she said, “We've broken up their strike force, sliced it into pieces. If we just had a couple more cruisers...”

   “I know,” he replied. “I know. At the very least, we're going to do enough damage to the enemy flotilla that they'll spend the next few months in dry dock. That might give Polaris a chance to even the odds a little, make some real progress.”

   “Shuttles departing, sir,” Schmidt said, looking up from her controls. “I presume I'm going for a full-offensive strike pattern on our attack.”

   “Absolutely, Lieutenant,” he replied. “Send those bastards straight to Hell.” He leaned forward in his chair, and said, “You think our people will make it down in one piece?”

   “I suppose the enemy fighters could swing around again, but Duval's people are in a good position to block them if they do, and I have a feeling they're going to concentrate all of their firepower on us. As it stands, we'll have four squadrons hitting us at the same time as we intercept those cruisers.” Turning to him, she said, “It really was a damn nice try, sir.”

   Nodding, he looked around the bridge again, Petrova moving to stand by his side, and began, “Ladies and gentlemen, in case I don't get a chance to say this sooner, it has been...”

   “Wait one!” Schmidt said, spinning back to her console. “Energy spike, out at the threshold, close to Castro. Incoming ships. One. Two. Four. Four capital ships, sir, and Commonwealth signatures.” Her eyes widened, and she said, “It's Polaris! And they brought friends!”

   A smile curved across Mike's face, and he said, “That changes the story a little, Lieutenant.”

   With a grin, she said, “Always did prefer books with a happy ending, Commander.”

  Chapter 21

   “All decks are cleared for action, Commander,” Hudson said, looking across from her console. “First Cruiser Squadron has reported in, executing the battle plan as instructed.”

   Looking at the chaos on Hyperborean space, Curtis said, “Launch all fighters, to target that cruiser squadron. Maybe we can find a way to even the odds a little.” Turning to Rojek, he added, “What's your assessment, Felix?”

   “Slice and dice, skipper. Looks like Canopus and Castro have really done a number on their formation. I'm not picking up much in the way of debris, so I don't think we've missed much of the action, but they've opened them up into three different firefights.” Frowning, he added, “We want to concentrate on the cruisers, I think. That big formation. The second one shouldn't be much trouble unless the main force defeats us, and I'd recommend keeping our fighters concentrated, rather than dispersing them like they have.”

   “All fighters launched, Commander,” Hudson reported. “I'm picking up an armada of shuttles from Canopus heading towards the surface. Looks like they're abandoning ship.”

   “I don't blame them,” Saxon said, looking ruefully at the screen. “One ship against four wouldn't have been much of a battle. Your son must have stripped down to core personnel for the final firefight.” Shaking her head, she added, “Our fighters aren't going to get there in time, sir. Not even if they burn all their engines at overload. We'll be four minutes after that.”

   Curtis sighed. Despite all their best efforts, they'd been eight and a half minutes late entering warp at Khiva, and it was impossible to make up a single second until they emerged. He'd hoped and prayed that he would arrive in time, and it looked now as though all of those hopes had been in vain. Reaching for his controls, he looked back at the communications team

   “Contact Castro. No point risking them in the line of battle right now. Have them move to support the fighters, closer in towards Hyperborea, and ride shotgun on those shuttles on the way to the deck. After that, they're to proceed at their commander's discretion, with my suggestion that finding some nice juicy targets to blot out of existence would be a good idea.”

   “On it, sir,” the technician replied.

   “Can you get me Canopus?”

   “Trying, Commander, but there's a lot of interference between us and them,” Rojek said. “It's going to have to be a message laser, and they keep blocking our beam.” He frowned, then tapped a control, adding, “That should do it. I'll bounce it off a probe. If they try and intercept that, they'll have to go way off course to do it. Give me thirty seconds for it to get far enough out.”

   Nodding, Curtis scanned the sky, issuing quick orders to the rest of the formation. Four ships, twelve squadrons, up against four ships and six. The battle had changed in a heartbeat, a theoretical rout transformed into an incipient victory. The triumph that he had been hoping for, a glorious battle that would rally rebel groups across the Federation to his banner. Except that it was beginning to appear that this victory would be purchased at the cost of the life of his son.

   “I have Admiral Yoshida, sir. No scrambler,” the technician said.

   Cracking a smile, Curtis said, “Put the old bastard on.”

   A second later, Yoshida's face appeared on the screen, and he immediately began, “You have temporary superiority, Commander, but I still retain superior force in this system, and as soon as my fleet rallies, I'll have you beaten. Withdraw, and I will accept the surrender of Canopus rather than destroying it.”

   “Not a chance, Admiral,” Curtis replied. “We've got you beat and you know it. For the sake of your crew, I call upon you to conditionally surrender. I will permit you and your people to return to Earth in the auxiliary cruisers.” Looking across at the monitors, transmissions flooding in from the surface, he added, “The people of Hyperborea appear to have decided in our favor already. Can't you respect that decision?”

   “My orders are to destroy Polaris and Canopus, Commander, and I will not disobey them.” He looked off-screen, then said, “My reserve formation is moving back into position. You can't win against that much firepower, and you know it.”

   “Sir,” Rojek said. “The two auxiliary cruisers are altering course again. Moving to intercept the shuttles from Canopus.” He looked up at a readout, and added, “They'll be in firing range in five minutes. I'm sorry, Commander, I didn't think they'd break away from intercepting us.”

   Leaning forward in his chair, Curtis said, “Killing unarmed shuttles, Admiral? I suppose we should have expected that. It seems that attacking those who can't fight back is Federation strategy these days. Rest assured that I will do everything I can to defend them, and that I will see that those responsible are brought to trial. Including yourself, Admiral.”

   Yoshida turned away from the pickup, barked orders, then looked back at Curtis, his face doleful, replying, “That is not my order, Commander.”

   “Get off the god-damned fence, Yoshida!” Curtis yelled. “These are the people you are serving. Butchers and tyrants. This fleet is supposedly under your command. You are responsible, whether you like it or not. And I intend to hold you as such. Polaris out.” Sitting back in his chair, he turned to Rojek, and asked, “Is there anything we can do to help them?”

   Shaking his head, he replied, “Not a thing, Teddy. Nothing we have is in position to stop them. There are a few squadrons from Canopus heading towards them, and as near as I can tell, they'll intercept those ships just about at the same time as the shuttles will enter firing range. There's nothing else we can do.” He looked down, sighed, and added, “Sirius has alter
ed course as well, heading for the shuttles. I'd expected better of Meg Bishop.”

   “Assuming she's still calling the shots over there,” Saxon said. “Commodore McGuire, probably. Anyone want to bet that Yoshida put him in command of the auxiliary forces to keep him out of the way?” Gesturing at the screen, she added, “That'd probably explain why they're dancing all over the sky right now.”

   Curtis turned back to Rojek, and asked, “Anything from Canopus?”

   “Not yet.”

   “Well hurry up, damn it!”

   Turning to him, he replied, “Those probes can only move so fast, Commander, and the enemy hackers are already doing their best to suborn it.”

   Curtis looked back at the viewscreen, watching as his formation slowly slid into position, just as he had planned, hours ago. There was no doubt in his mind that the battle was going to be won, not now. He had Yoshida cold. But the cost, the cost was going to be far too damned high. His fingers rattled the armrest of his command chair, and Saxon glared down at him.

   “Either get your head in the game or turn command over to Hudson,” she hissed. “I know it's your son out there, but there's nothing you can do for him right now. Hell, I don't know what you think you're going to do if you do manage to talk to him. He's done everything he could, and he's set the stage for our victory, and he knew going in that he was taking a risk.”

   “Enemy cruiser squadron moving into diamond formation,” Rojek reported. “Playing a conservative game.” He smiled, and he added, “Our fighters have hit two orbital stations, and half a dozen surveillance satellites. All nice clean kills. That ought to help our people on the surface a bit.”

   “I'm not worried about that battle right now,” Curtis replied. “The rebels down there can take care of themselves for the moment. We either win up here or we lose it all. End of story. Norton, is there anything you can do to increase our speed?”

   “Not without burning out half the distributor network, Commander, and even then it would be touch and go at best. If anything, the Commonwealth cruisers are a little behind us. We're slowly pulling ahead of the formation.”

   “We should reduce speed,” Saxon suggested. At his expression, she added, “We need to maximize our defensive firepower, and we're in danger of making the same mistake that Yoshida did. We can still lose this battle, Commander. It isn't over yet. Far from it.”

   Reluctantly, he nodded, and said, “Match our acceleration to the other ships in our formation, Lieutenant, but don't slip any further back than you must.”

   “Sir,” Rojek said, “I have Canopus Actual on the line for you. Putting him on now.”

   The image of his son appeared on the screen, Mike saying, “You took your time, Commander. I was beginning to think you'd lost your invitation.”

   “I'm getting a little slow in my old age, Commander,” he replied. “I brought some friends. Hope you don't mind that I didn't have a chance to RSVP for them.”

   With a shrug, Mike replied, “The more the merrier. Especially now.”

   Nodding, Curtis said, “If the tactical plot is correct...”

   “Then in about five minutes,” Mike interrupted, “Canopus is going to be in the middle of one hell of a firestorm.”

   “That about how it looks, yeah,” he replied, glancing self-consciously around. “We'll do everything we can to give your people cover. And we're going to do everything possible to draw the enemy fire away from you. There's fighter support heading your way.”

   “I saw. Thanks.” He looked to the side, and said, “We'll make sure to get them nice and ready for you. Knock a few chunks out of their defensive systems. And don't worry. Canopus is the toughest ship in the fleet...”

   “Second toughest.”

   “You're biased. She's been through a hell of a lot in the past, and she can take the fire. And so can her crew. We'll come out of the other end of the dive. Battered and bruised maybe, but she'll hold together. Depend on it.”

   “I will.” Glancing up at the clock, he said, “Son, I...”

   “I know.” Mike glanced off-camera, and added, “Things are beginning to happen over here. We'll contact you when we can. Good luck.”

   “And to you. Polaris out.”

   Only the low rumble of the engines and the faint buzz of the defense cannons powering up broke the silence on the bridge, all eyes desperately looking away from the man at its heart. He had to retain control, had to hold on no matter the pain he was feeling. If for no other reason than that he was responsible for the lives of thousands of men and women in the fleet, ten times that number on the surface of Hyperborea, and uncounted billions scattered throughout the galaxy.

   This was the battle that would decide the fate of the war. The one they'd be writing about for generations to come, whether they won or lost today. As his son's image flickered from the screen, replaced by the tactical display, he desperately sought some way, any way that he could get Polaris into the battle in time to save Canopus.

   “There really isn't any choice,” Saxon whispered.

   “I'm supposed to be some sort of damned tactical genius, aren't I? That's what Cordova wanted. So why can't I think of something now? We've pulled off enough miracles. I'm only asking for one more.” Looking at the screen, he said, “There must be something. Anything we can do to intervene.”

   “Maybe this is the price we're going to have to pay. You knew this wasn't going to be a bloodless coup. A lot of people have died already, and a lot more are going to die if we're going to make this work.” Placing her hand on his shoulder, she said, “He made his choice, and he did it willingly. And we're going to have to live with the consequences of those actions. You are going to have to live with them. And you can, whether you like it or not. And you must, because too many people are counting on you.” She squeezed his shoulder again, and said, “Game face, Commander. This is what we've been working for. Time to deliver.”

   “Yes, ma'am,” he said, forcing a smile. He turned to Rojek, and said, “Fire at will, Lieutenant. Send those bastards to hell.”

   “Aye, aye, sir,” Rojek replied.

   Curtis looked up at the tactical display again, counting the seconds until contact. Saxon was right, and deep inside, he knew it. That didn't make it any easier. Not when he was about to have a front-row seat for the death of his son.

   “Wait a minute,” Saxon said. “Where the hell is Sirius going?”

  Chapter 22

   Cordova looked out of the window, watching as crowds raced down the streets, hastily scrawled banners held high as the mob surged onward, no evidence of local security present. She glanced across at Petrov, his eyes locked on the sensor display, watching as Canopus raced towards the enemy cruiser squadron. She knew that his daughter was on board, couldn't imagine what must be running through his mind.

   A low whine echoed from the door, the sound of the laser cutter ripping through the hardened alloys, the forces of the governor struggling to get into the room. It almost seemed redundant. There was little enough that they could do to influence events now, either on the ground or in orbit. She walked back to the director's chair, glancing at the door.

   “You think we might want to consider surrendering?” she asked.

   “They'll kill us,” the director said.

   “Doubtful,” she replied. “Far more likely that they'll take us as hostages instead, at this stage. We're too useful alive.”

   Looking up at the monitor, Petrov said, “That door will hold for a while yet.” Suddenly, the whine died, replaced by the staccato blast of machine gun fire. Wearily, Petrov rose to his feet, and said, “I think we can open the door now.”

   “Are you crazy?” Cordova replied, as he made his way across the room, releasing the hatch to reveal the grinning face of Harland, a trio of dead security guards behind him, flanked by a pair of young men with white armbands, wielding hunting rifles and triumphant smiles. �
�What the hell?”

   “Blood packs,” Harland replied.

   “We needed to make it look convincing for the cameras,” Petrov replied. “As well as make sure we dealt with the loyalists in our ranks. All the people we couldn't trust died that day.” He looked down at the ground, and added, “I'm sorry about Logan. We didn't consider that she'd break for it. I was going to try and hit her in the leg, a non-lethal wound, but one of the Governor's men got there first. If it's any comfort, he died about sixty seconds later.”

   Turning to him, she said, “Why didn't you tell us?”

   “Because I couldn't! There were things you didn't need to know, and I figured there was a better than even chance that you'd get captured trying to make it into town. I couldn't give you anything like perfect coverage. What the hell was I supposed to do, give you a full tactical briefing in the indent barracks? For all I knew, you were a traitor.” He looked her in the eyes, and said, “Besides, from what Liz has told me, you've got no grounds to complain about someone failing to give you complete information.”

   “Can we finish this some other time?” Harland replied.

   “What's going on out there?” Petrov asked.

   “We control the spaceport, hydroponics, the monorail station and the water treatment center.” He smiled, and said, “Most of them surrendered. The station before we even got there.”

   “What about the power station?” Cordova asked.

   “That's the bad news,” Harland said. “The Governor took all the troops she could trust and holed up there when the coup started. She's threatening to sabotage the systems if we don't give in. I tried offering her safe passage off-world, but she refused. I guess she figures that the Federation won't let someone who has failed this spectacularly live.”

   “We've backed her into a corner,” Cordova replied. “What emergency systems do you have?”

   “Next to none,” Petrov said, bitterness filling his voice. “We used to have a backup, but it was mothballed a few years ago to save money. Since then we've been totally dependent on the old nuclear reactor. There isn't enough independent power generation to keep even a tenth of the population warm tonight.” He paused, and said, “If she's set up some sort of charge...”