Starcruiser Polaris: Blood of Patriots

by Richard Tongue

   “The Commodore will see you now,” the secretary said, and Kani led the way into the lavish office, his feet sinking into the plush carpet. Despite the surface luster, though, everywhere there were telltale signs of age. The curtains were worn, paintwork fading, stains on the desk that had never been removed, one of the chairs carefully arranged to discourage anyone from using it. And a faint smell in the air, a subtle tang that warned that the life support system had been in constant use for too long. Always there was one more system ready to breakdown, maintenance never quite keeping up with the constant demands of the floating city.

   The trio of pilots saluted, and Commodore McKinnon waved them to take seats facing her, glancing down at the cluster of datapads on her desk before looking up at them, her face locked in a frown.

   “Squadron Leader Kani, I have reviewed your performance in the recent battle drill...” A smile spread across Voronova's face, rapidly dashed by her next words, “And found it excellent. You've exposed a serious vulnerability in our security systems, and that could have seriously cost us in a combat situation. I've already arranged for modifications to the firewalls on your fighters. Though I'm afraid none of you will be flying combat for a while.”

   “Ma'am?” Voronova asked. “Why am I here?”

   “Blunt, and to the point, Flight Lieutenant. Your reputation is well earned. I have a special mission for the three of you, and one that might herald the beginning of the reclamation of our lost territory. And to answer your question, you are here because you are one of the few people we have who has visited Sinaloa Station.”

   “Four years ago, ma'am, and that was just a quick visit on a blockade runner.”

   “It's still better than anything else we've got.” Frowning, she continued, “There's been an interesting little incident deep in Federation territory. The Democratic Underground have hijacked one of their bulk tankers, the Hanoi, and our people at Titan have discovered that they're heading for Sinaloa. The Federation are naturally responding in kind.”

   Nodding, Kani replied, “It's about time the resistance got back on the move again, ma'am, but I don't understand what they're planning to do with a tanker. And Sinaloa's just a prospecting station for the uranium mines of Coronado. Nothing military about the place. Are they planning another Uprising?”

   “Probably, but there's a little more too it than that. We've got a few people in their network, and they've informed us that the whole organization is on the move. Though our agents report that there are no immediate plans for another revolt, not yet.” She leaned back on her chair, and said, “Ever hear of the Starcruiser Polaris?”

   “Squadron flagship during the Uprising, involved in the Massacre at Mareikuna,” Nguyen replied. “Went missing a few months later, hunting down rebel activity on the frontier.” Her eyes widened, and she said, “They've found it, haven't they. The Underground.”

   “That's our guess,” McKinnon said. She folded her fingers together, and said, “We need that ship, people, and we need it badly. We're down to four capital ships now, and that information does not leave this room. Ajax is going out of service, broken down for spare parts. Within five years, we won't have a line of battle worth a damn. With Polaris, we might be able to extend that. Even if we can just break her down for components, she could give us another decade.”

   Frowning, Voronova said, “I don't understand, Commodore. Surely we ought to be supporting the rebels, not snatching victory from them. The enemy of my enemy...”

   “Is still my enemy, Lieutenant, nothing less,” McKinnon said. “Our goal is the re-imposition of Commonwealth rule on human space. Theirs is the introduction of a chaotic democratic government. We've tried that experiment before, and the result was the near-destruction of humanity. I don't think we can risk a second try. If the Federation is to be brought down, our ships, our people must be at the vanguard of the attack. That is the view of the Council and of the Chairman. I spoke to her on this very matter this morning.”

   She reached for a control, bringing up a three-dimensional projection of explored space, hundreds of stars snapping into position. The inner core blue for space controlled by the Federation, an outer crimson expanse for Commonwealth territory, and a wide green expanse beyond for the Halo Worlds, a collection of small outposts and settlements scattered as much as a hundred light-years from Sol, some of them not visited for decades, too unimportant for the major powers to consider.

   Kani looked at the map, the usual strategic problem evident. The Republic had ended the Revolution with the Old Colonies, the first interstellar settlements of the 22nd-century, and the bulk of the resource and industrial base. Despite their best efforts, the Commonwealth exiles had only been able to hold the Perimeter, frontier worlds with lower populations, lesser potential. Even after fifty years of hard work, they were still far behind their enemy in every way, David and Goliath in the far expanse of space. One of the stars started to wink, Sinaloa Station highlighted, an outpost on the border between Commonwealth and Federation space.

   Looking up at Kani, she said, “Your orders are to locate that ship, Squadron Leader. Find out anything you can about the location of Polaris and the intention of the rebels. Do whatever you have to do. And at all costs, stop the Federation from retaking her.” Looking up at the map, she said, “You want to reshape that map in our favor? Capture Polaris.”

   Frowning, Kani replied, “Just the three of us, ma'am?”

   “Some of my colleagues are convinced that this is a prelude to a new Uprising. We've mobilized the whole Fleet, just in case. I can't spare anyone else. Though if you do find something, Agamemnon is already on standby alert, and I will ship out immediately to provide support. Regardless of any other orders I receive.” Looking at the three of them, she continued, “You are the best covert operations team I have. Make me proud. Dismissed.”

   The pilots snapped to attention, turned, and walked back into the anteroom, the secretary already waiting for them with a datapad in her hand, passing it to Kani with a faint smile.

   “Passage on the Lost Horizon for the three of you. She was heading out to Sinaloa anyway to pick up a shipment of uranium. It's a one-way ticket, I'm afraid. You'll have to improvise your own way back home when the mission is over, but that's nothing new for you. Good hunting.”

   “Thank you,” Kani said, taking the datapad, while Nguyen led the way into the elevator.

   “I don't like this,” Voronova said, as the doors slid shut. “I don't like this at all. We ought to be helping the rebels, not trying to sabotage them.”

   “You heard the Commodore,” Nguyen replied. “If we're going to retake Earth and the Colonies, we've got to do it on our own terms, and sooner or later...”

   “When?” Kani asked. “When exactly are we going to move, or is the plan simply to sit back and watch our ships and our stations fall apart until we're forced to surrender to the Federation, waiting for a chance that might never come. We've got to use whatever we can, Mel, and that means taking any opportunities offered. Another Uprising is just what we've been waiting for. We should have intervened last time.”

   “Agreed,” Voronova said. With a sigh, she said, “Just what to they expect three pilots to do, anyway?”

   “How well do you know Sinaloa?” Kani asked.

   “Seven days of shore leave on the station. I guess I know it pretty well, and I doubt it will have changed very much over the last few years.”

   Nodding, Kani looked down at the datapad, and said, “Hanoi only left Titan ten hours ago. If we're shipping out in two, we'll be there six hours ahead of them.”

   “With a squadron of Federation Starcruisers undoubtedly right on our tail,” Nguyen replied, gloomily.

   “True, but they're going to be so busy hunting down rebels that they won't be looking for us. If nothing else, they'll be damned good decoys. Assuming all of this isn't some sort of Federation trap, of course. It'd be a good one.”


   “Have you seen the schematics on Polaris?” Voronova said, skimming through the readout. “She could stand off three of our ships without breaking sweat.”

   “I can certainly understand the Commodore's interest,” Nguyen said. “Besides, the rebels can't win. We all know that. They threw everything they had at the Federation during the Uprising, and they never had a chance of victory. Nothing's changed. If they did somehow manage to retrieve that ship, they'd only waste it. We can make much better use of it than they can.”

   “Do you want to tell them that, or shall I?” Voronova replied. “I still say this mission stinks.”

   “Sometimes that's just how it is, Lieutenant,” Kani said. “We've got a job to do, and as distasteful as it sounds, we'd better get on with it. Go and draw some civilian clothes from the quartermaster, and pack any gear you think you might need. I'll see you at the shuttle lock in an hour.”

   “Have you got a plan?” Voronova asked.

   “No, but I've got thirty-eight hours to come up with one. How hard can it be?”

   “That's going to look great carved on your tombstone.”

  Chapter 4

   Curtis looked out at the assembled crewmen, the rebels cautiously guarding those who had yet to commit to the cause, as the briefing video he'd hastily prepared ran to its conclusion. As the lights flashed back on, he walked over to the lectern, briefly locking eyes with Captain Hunter, standing with her senior staff at the rear of the room.

   “That's all we know,” he said. “You now have the same information that I do. We have a chance to salvage my ship, and to make her the flagship of a rebel flotilla that might, just might, push the Federation out of power. I know that a lot of you have good reason to hate them. Most of you lost people you cared about in the Uprising and the Purges. That being said, I will understand completely if you want to sit this fight out.”

   “You are nothing but terrorists,” Randall said, a scowl on his face, two tasers pointed at his chest. “The Federation will hunt you down like the maggots you are, and I just hope I'm there to watch the fun.” Turning to Hunter, he said, “Captain, we can take them. We outnumber them two to one, and we can...”

   “One move, Clark,” Norton replied. “One move, and I will end you. Count on it.”

   “That's the sort of people you are?” Randall asked. “You'll kill anyone who disagrees with you? What's the difference between you and the Political Directorate.”

   “They fight for themselves,” Rojek said. “We're fighting for everyone else.”

   Glancing at his watch, Curtis replied, “We'll be arriving at our destination in less than eight hours. Anyone who wishes to remain with the Federation will be held in close confinement until we are about to leave that system, and will be left behind on a shuttle with sufficient fuel and supplies to reach a safe port in a reasonable period. Those who choose to join us will be watched, count on it, but you'll have the chance to take part in a fight that, we hope, will restore the freedom our people lost centuries ago. To fight for the causes that our ancestors fought for, in the Revolution, before they were betrayed by their leaders. That won't happen this time.”

   “And our mission is to recover Polaris,” Hunter said, stepping forward. “To bring her back into service, and prosecute the war. In short, we're on the verge of a new Uprising.” Looking around, she said, “Last time, I served on a transport ship, behind the lines. I helped provide the supplies that beat back the rebels. And I've regretted not standing up and being counted ever since.” Moving to stand with Curtis, she added, “I'll serve under you, Commander. And I encourage the rest of my crew to do the same.” With a smile, she continued, “I understand that Hanoi is yours, until you find your ship again.”

   “Thank you, Captain,” Curtis said. “What about the rest of you?”

   “How can you serve under the man who slaughtered ten thousand civilians at Mareikuna?” Randall asked. “This man is a murderer, and...”

   “Our commanders were the murderers that day,” Rojek said, stepping forward, eyes wide. “We were told we were attacking troop transports, and by the time we learned the truth, it was too late to stop the massacre, but Commander Curtis did everything he could, and they broke him for it!” Looking from face to face, he said, “That's just one more reason why we've got to bring the tyrants down. Do you think they care about you, about any of you? Just pieces on the board in their political games. We've got a chance to be something better than that, and we've got to take it!”

   “I'll fight with you, sir,” a young shuttle pilot, Sokolov written on his nametag, replied. He was only the first, and after a few moments, only a small throng of die-hard Federation loyalists remained, clustered with Randall, receiving looks of withering scorn from their erstwhile comrades.

   “Monty, have them locked in Secure Storage, and prepare Shuttle Two for their departure. See that it has sufficient life support to last for at least two weeks. They might be in for a long trip.”

   “Yes, sir,” he replied, gesturing with her taser to the door. “Move, people. We've thrown some bedding and ration packs in there. You'll have a lot of time to think about what you just did.”

   “This isn't over,” Randall said, glaring at Curtis. “This isn't over, not by a long shot.”

   “Talk's cheap, Clark,” Montgomery said. “Move.”

   “Roxy, you take charge of the volunteers and integrate them into the crew as we discussed. I'll be in Medical for a while. Felix, you're with me.”

   “Aye, sir,” Norton said. “Captain, I think we'd better talk.”

   “Agreed,” Hunter replied, and the two of them moved to a corner of the room, while Curtis walked out into the corridor, Rojek following with one last glance behind them.

   “That went better than I'd hoped,” Rojek said. “Only six chose not to join us, and four of them have family back on Earth. Most of the crew are Colonials. Not by accident.” He grinned, then said, “It took quite a lot of work to arrange. We'd always picked Hanoi as a possible ship for a revolt. Having her out at Titan was perfect timing.”

   Turning a corner, Curtis asked, “How did you get involved in all of this, anyway? You were part of the Political Directorate, one of their top people...”

   “And I had a complete breakdown after Mareikuna, and spent two years in psychiatric confinement,” he replied. “Everything I said back there is true, Teddy. We were set up. Maybe they thought that you didn't have enough blood on your hands to be part of the brotherhood, maybe we were the opening shot in the Purges.” Turning to him, he said, “They were dead anyway, just like millions of others.” Closing his eyes, he replied, “I go back there every night. If I'd...”

   “Me too, Felix, me too.” Stepping towards the elevator, he added, “So, what happened?”

   “Well, after I was released, I quit the Directorate. I drifted for a while, until one of our mutual friends arranged this posting. Kit Cordova. We had a long talk, out at Proxima, and I ended up signing on with him. Maybe because I thought it was the only way I could ever get the blood off my hands. That was about a year before he died.” Looking around the corridor, he continued, “I was a little too high-profile to be active, but he figured I'd make a good sleeper agent. I've been on one transport or another for the last fifteen years, working as a junior officer. Believe it or not, I did pay some attention in those Academy classes I took.”

   “You were a better watchdog than most of the ones I had, I'll give you that,” Curtis replied.

   “Don't remind me,” Rojek said. “When I think back to those days.” Shaking his head, he continued, “About the only thing I've ever clung onto was that we were the best of them. And you did everything you could at Mareikuna. You never knowingly perpetuated a massacre. Not many other ship commanders could say the same. Though the rebels weren't much better, that time.”

   “No good guys in that war,” Curtis replied.

  �
��“Kit wanted to do it right the second time. Made sure that the psychopaths were kept down, any cells showing signs of acts of open terrorism accidentally betrayed to Colonial Security. It's made it slow to build, but at least we can trust most of our network.”

   “If it isn't too secret to know, who runs the show?”

   “Nobody, really,” Rojek said. “I know, I know, but we don't have that sort of integrated command structure. Each cell stands alone, and only a few of us serve as the connections between them. Mostly in the Commerce Directorate, though we do have a handful of friends in the military.” He grimaced, then said, “It isn't the Fleet you remember. I'll tell you that for a fact.”

   “Good or bad?”

   “Depends on your point of view. Lots of political appointees, friends of friends. There's a hard core of old-fashioned spacers, but their influence is dropping all the time. Which means that they're a gang of brutal thugs in charge of starships, mostly. With a few notable exceptions.” He paused, then said, “Though a lot of the old guard are still there in the lower ranks. We've never made any real effort to recruit, but I have a feeling we might get more support than you might think. Especially with you in the driver's seat.”

   “Me?”

   “Come on, Teddy. Commander Curtis taking charge of the Starcruiser Polaris, returned after twenty years, leading the rebel fleet in a triumphant march towards freedom and liberty? It's not going to take much of an effort to spin that story into something a bit special, and we'll get recruits faster than we can cope with once we start to move.”

   “Which is precisely why the Federation is going to do everything it possibly can to prevent that from happening. Up to and including sending everything they've got after us. Cygnus, certainly. Who's commanding her now?”