Starcruiser Polaris: Nothing Left To Lose

by Richard Tongue

 “Fifteen thousand!” With an ear-splitting roar, Montevideo slammed through the sound barrier, the engines firing now to arrest the landing, no concern for a precise course, the only goal to bring the ship down in as few pieces as possible. He could see islands spread out on the horizon, Montevideo coming in to land in the middle of their target archipelago, the beacon signal less than a dozen miles away. Whoever was calling them down was going to get a front row seat for their crash.

   “Three thousand!”

   Close enough that he could see the tips of the waves, steam already rising from the surface in anticipation of their arrival, more warning lights bursting into life as though the computer could hardly believe what it was picking up on its sensors, what Kani was asking of the ship in its final moments. That they'd made it this far was a miracle. Now he was going to ask for one more.

   “Five hundred! Here it comes!”

   With an ear-splitting roar, the ship crashed into the water, skimming across the surface of the ocean, waves rushing on either side as it carved a trail of steam and smoke, Kani using his final seconds of control to point it in the direction of an island. Immediately, the ship began to sink, superheated water surging through the ruined hull, the ship slowly settling beneath the waves.

   “Depth below, one hundred meters,” Nguyen reported. “We're just going to rest on the bottom.” She glanced across at an indicator, and added, “Respirators on, everyone.”

   “Well, Squadron Leader, we made it,” Hammond said, looking out across the horizon. “What now?”

  Chapter 13

   Cordova looked up at the wall of her cabin, lost in thought, struggling to work out how her careful planning could have gone wrong so quickly. One unthinking word from the late Krieger, and a chain of logical deductions from Curtis, and twenty years of deception had unraveled in the course of a simple blood test. She'd been unable to corner Grant on his own, hadn't managed to provide the briefing that would have protected the conspiracy.

   In her mind, she went back ten years, to a funeral she'd attended in disguise, making sure to keep well out of the way of the other mourners. A man who she had killed, Polaris' former helmsman, dead by her inaction. Her father had originally conceived the plan, hiding a few critical figures in plain sight. Some of them had been caught anyway, swept up in the Purges despite their best efforts. Others had been awakened over the long years, and a few remained where her father had placed them, waiting for a day that would never come.

   She could fix that, at least. As soon as Polaris returned to normal space, a series of coded signals would be dispatched from her interstellar communications array, giving the orders that would bring those remnants back from the grave to which she had dispatched them. Somehow, it only seemed fair, but it couldn't serve to repair the damage she had done.

   And yet at the time, it had seemed the right thing to do. Her father had been so damned convincing, arguing that these people needed to be preserved for a better time, and she'd gone along with him, all the way. She'd agreed with those arguments, seen the wisdom of keeping those vital people out of the grasp of ColSec, or worse, the Political Directorate itself. The door chimed, opening to admit a grim-faced Saxon, who entered uninvited and sat down opposite her, laser eyes burning into her soul.

   “I don't want to talk right now,” Cordova said.

   “Tough,” Saxon replied. “We've got a lot to talk about. Especially if I'm going to take over your job. And I hasten to add that this was entirely Teddy's idea, not mine.”

   “Teddy?” she said. “You're getting close to him, now. I hope he knows how sharp your knife can be. Keranos found that out the hard way.”

   “Keranos was a thug, a criminal of the worst type. People like that are a cancer in any decent society, but I didn't have the ability under the law to do what we should have done. Thrown him in a cell for the rest of his life. He had just enough connections to allow him to dance out of trouble. Until I made sure enough bullets were shot into the bastard to bring him down for good. The universe is a better place without him in it.” She paused, then said, “Now let's talk about you.”

   “What about me?”

   “I was wondering why? Why go through all of this?”

   “Commander Curtis was in no condition to go into hiding. At the time, he was legitimately an alcoholic. And incidentally, we helped him with that as well. He recovered decades ago. He just didn't know he was doing it at the time.”

   Folding her arms, Saxon asked, “And you never considered bringing him into the loop? The Purges were over a long time ago, Major. Long enough that you could have brought him back to life again, used him in the Underground long before this. The man is a tactical genius...”

   “And we needed to hold him in reserve for a better day, rather than throwing him away too soon, before we were ready. What choice did we have?”

   “You had plenty of choices, I think. I just don't believe that you were willing to take advantage of them. Though I suppose that's all in the past.” She paused, and said, “Though I suppose it adds to the narrative, doesn't it. The long-lost space captain at the helm of his old ship, fighting the tyranny of the Federation. Probably plays well out there.”

   “That has to be a consideration,” she replied. “The people need heroes. Someone to rally behind. Someone to cheer on. He's an obvious choice. We need him in a command role anyway, and...”

   “And you were hoping he'd be a figurehead for you.” Raising a hand, she added, “Don't try and deny it. It's been quite clear to me, right from the beginning, that it was what you initially had in mind. To the point that I was almost surprised that you took him off the suppressants.”

   “We needed his skills, and very badly.”

   Raising an eyebrow, Saxon replied, “Now that's interesting. That's very interesting. Because it rather implies that had you had someone else you could have used in this role, you'd have done just that, and never mind bringing Teddy back from the dead.” Leaning forward, she asked, “Just how far are you willing to go, Major? What price is too high for the freedom you claim to be fighting for?”

   “This is a war. People die.”

   “People who volunteer, surely.”

   Scowling, Cordova asked, “What about you? Why did you sign up for this? And don't give me anything about freedom and liberty. You don't believe in those things. You're in this for yourself.”

   “Everyone always is, Major. I'm just rather more honest about it than most people.” With a smile on her face, she replied, “I am a product of the system in which I was raised. By thirty I had become Deputy Administrator of Sinaloa Station, one of the leading lights of ColSec, but it was at that point my career stalled dead. Turns out that I might be corrupt, but I lack the brutality the role apparently required. I'd managed to avoid the worst of the Purges...”

   “The worst?”

   “If the order comes down to imprison fifty people, failure to do so simply means that your assistant is ordered to imprison fifty-one, and your name goes at the top. You can help, a little. Give people a chance to get clear. Find a way...”

   “You never did that.”

   Raising an eyebrow, she replied, “Really? Does it not strike you that anyone hoping to conceal their activities from ColSec and the Political Directorate could be just as likely to conceal them from your little Underground? Let me introduce you to a reality that I don't believe you have considered. They knew about you, right from the start.”

   “Impossible. They'd have stopped us. And when some of our people were careless, they were arrested, exiled, killed...”

   “Sometimes, to keep up the pretense, but you were far more valuable alive than you ever would have been in a penal camp. Living rebels can be used to justify all sorts of activities, increased security measures that even Parliament would never approve in whatever passes for peacetime, corruption as money assigned to distant outposts is skimmed away. You were a tool of the
Federation, Major, right from the beginning.”

   “In that case, damn it, why didn't they stop us before we retook this ship?”

   “Simple. You moved too quickly. Note that they were on your tail in hours. Reviving Curtis was a surprise, I presume, and gave you a tool that they didn't believe you had. And then, I helped. Inadvertently, perhaps, but even so. Had Keranos managed to get his information to the Federation authorities, they'd have either paid him off or killed him.”

   “Or both.”

   “Hardly. You don't kill someone after you have made a deal with them. Such an act would ruin your reputation, and the Federation pays its debts. Has to, otherwise the criminal underclass would be even worse than it already is.” She paused, and said, “You wanted to know why I'm fighting for you? The answer is that I'm not. I'm fighting for Commander Curtis. He actually has a chance of pulling off what you never did, never could. He might bring the whole damn system crumbling down around him.”

   Her scowl spreading, Cordova replied, “I'd have thought someone like you would have been far happier under the current system. You've certainly benefited from it.”

   “I'm a cop, Major. At the end of the day, that's what I am. With a side order of politician, but once you rise high enough in the hierarchy, I suppose that's no longer a choice you get to make. Not that I suspect it has ever been any different.”

   “So you're just...”

   “I'm someone who wonders what I might have been in a different world. I am also someone who has an eye for her own survival. My position was hopelessly compromised when Hanoi first arrived at Sinaloa Station. No matter that I did everything by what passes for the book. I'd have been the scapegoat. One more indictment of the system.” She smiled, then said, “You can trust me implicitly, Major, because I really don't have any other options. I'm more committed to my cause than you are to yours.”

   Rising angrily to her feet, Cordova replied, “Now what the hell do you mean by that?”

   “Simple. You could send a message to one of a dozen people in the Federation and sell us all out in exchange for immunity. Such a request would be honored. You'd get safe passage to the Halo Worlds, and this revolution would end. I, on the other hand, cannot. If they capture me, I will die. Probably slowly and painfully. The only way I get to come through this is if the rebellion is successful and the Federation is brought down.”

   “You could seek refuge in the Commonwealth.”

   “And we all might, but don't you understand that the Federation and the Commonwealth deal with each other all the time? You don't think that they wouldn't trade me for a shipment of gadolinium? Access to mineral deposits on frontier systems? The blockade is far more honored in the breach than the observance. Unless, of course, someone other than the agents of the Parliament undertakes such violations. They need to protect their monopoly, I suppose.”

   Sitting back on the bed, Cordova replied, “Then I was right. You're not in this for any other reason than to save your own skin.”

   “I've made no secret of that. What are you fighting for? What's your glorious cause?”

   She paused, then said, “To save...”

   “No recruitment pitch.” Rising to her feet, she replied, “I don't think you know. I think you've spent so long on this glorious crusade of yours that you have genuinely forgotten what you are fighting for. Let me tell you something. Nobody fights for slogans. They fight for themselves. If we're going to win this war, it will be because we can convince the people that there is something better to offer them than the status quo. Something tangible. Out of interest, what happens after the war is over?”

   “The people will decide.”

   With a bark of laughter, Saxon replied, “The people created the Federation. Through inactivity, yes, but they did. And the Commonwealth before that. And the Federated Nations first, most of which were at least theoretical democracies who voted their tyrants into power. Usually because it was easier than thinking for themselves, better to delegate that to someone else.”

   “I'm not sure I can muster quite your level of cynicism.”

   “Realism. Try that concept instead.” Moving to the door, she added, “Teddy has given me the pick of the crew for the assault team. With a few obvious limitations, of course. I'd planned on taking Dixon with me.” She paused, then said, “I'd like you to come along for the ride as well.”

   “I'm surprised you want me.”

   With a shrug, Saxon replied, “I fundamentally disagree with what passes for your politics, but you are an extremely skilled close combat and intrusion specialist. Skills that I'm going to need if we're going to make the attack on Sinaloa Station a success. And I'm going to do everything in my power to make that happen, and if that means I have to take you along for the ride, then that's what I intend to do. Regardless of my own personal feelings.”

   “Not enough,” Cordova said.

   “Then try this, instead. You can stick with me for the whole assault. Watch my back. And if in your judgment I'm about to betray your glorious cause, you can kill me. How's that sound?”

   Raising an eyebrow, the rebel replied, “You're serious?”

   “Deadly serious. And don't think that this is a one-way street. There's nothing more hazardous to the success of any mission than the presence of someone who wants to be a hero. I've nothing against heroes, but they have a tendency to get people coming along for the ride killed. Besides, this is a chance to prove that your beliefs are more than just words parroted from your father. How about it. Major?”

   “If for one moment I think...”

   “Got it,” Saxon said, with a sigh. “Sooner or later, you'll have to trust me. Maybe if you do, I might consider reciprocating.” She paused, then asked, “Tell me something. You're so willing to sacrifice others to your glorious crusade. Would you be as willing to die yourself, if that's what it took?”

   “In a heartbeat,” Cordova said. “I knew that going in.”

   With a nod, Saxon stepped through the door, and replied, “Tactical briefing in two hours. Don't be late. And I expect to get your input on the battle plan. I don't pretend to be infallible.”

   “I'll be there,” Cordova replied, and Saxon walked out of the room, the door sliding shut behind her. “Not as if I have anything else to do.”

  Chapter 14

   “Are you finally going to tell us what this is all about, Win?” Nguyen asked, as the huddled group of crewmen looked around the cramped confines of the upper storage bay. All but one of the fighters had survived the landing intact, carefully protected by Moretti and her crew before their departure from Polaris, as had the shuttle. They'd be able to put their full strength into the air.

   “Wait one,” Hammond said, holding up a portable sensor. “Intruder alert.”

   “Some of the internal sensors are still working?” Voronova asked in disbelief.

   Kani pulled his pistol from his holster and raced down the corridor, replying, “We can have a debate on the toughness of Federation shipbuilding later. Until then we're at battle stations.”

   Shaking her head, Voronova followed him, slipping on the wet decks as the two of them made for the indicated target. Savage gashes along the side of the hull exposed the horizon to either side, waves lapping across the hull, the sound of strange creatures in the distance. Montevideo's arrival had brought about a storm, and rain lashed down through cracks in the ceiling, covering every surface in slimy residue.

   He could see figures moving at the end of the corridor, shadows on the remnants of the walls, pistols in their hands. Kani glanced at Voronova, trying to peer into the gloom to make out the faces, then fired a single shot into the air, sending the approaching group diving for cover.

   “Halt!” he said. “Identify yourself!”

   “Major Conn Morgan, Coronado Militia. And this is Doctor Jack Ransom.”

   “Doc?” Voronova asked.

  �
�“Who are you?” Morgan asked.

   “Squadron Leader Winston Kani and Flight Lieutenant Diana Voronova, attached to the Democratic Underground and the Starcruiser Polaris.” Glancing at Voronova, he asked, “You know him?”

   “He's the reason we got out of Sinaloa in one piece,” she replied. Turning to face the two men, she added, “What are you doing down here, Doctor?”

   “The Administrator decided to make an example of me,” he said. “I got a one-way ticket down here to the surface. Here with the rest of the local troublemakers.”

   “You're organized down here, Major?” Kani asked.

   “I've got twenty-five people, all ex-military, all trained in boarding actions and assault. We're not heavily armed, but all of us at least have something we can shoot.” Holding his pistol, he added, “We saw your ship coming in, and we certainly saw it land.”

   “How do we know this isn't a trap?”

   “You don't,” Ransom replied. “But Lieutenant Voronova knows me, and I have no particular love for the Federation.” He paused, then said, “How did you get yourselves stranded down here? The damage didn't seem to be that extensive from the first attack.”

   “This was our goal,” Kani said. He looked at Voronova again, and asked, “What do you think, Lieutenant? You know the man, I don't.”

   “Twenty-five people,” she said. “That's a lot of help to throw away. And realistically, do we have a choice? This ship has so many breaches that there's no way we could defend it. If they wanted to take it from us, they could do it in fairly short order.” She turned to Ransom, and said, “I think we can trust him. I certainly think that it's worth the risk.”

   “Weapons on the deck,” Kani said, gesturing with his pistol. “You can get them back when you leave, but for the moment I feel more comfortable being the only man with a gun.” As the two men tossed their weapons away, he added, “Come forward. You might as well find out what we're doing along with the rest of them.”