"Captain on deck!" shouted First Mate Dak as Captain Vara strode up to the helm of her prized ship, the Starchaser.
"Morning Dak, how's our course looking today?" Vara asked, gazing out at the swirling nebula ahead.
"Smooth skies, Captain. We should reach the Cygnus trading post right on schedule barring any trouble from raiders."
Vara nodded, though privately she hoped for a little excitement. Things had been almost too quiet lately on their normal ore run. She longed for the bad old days of daring heists and narrow escapes in the outer systems. But those frontier skies were too hot for independents like her now that the Federation was expanding.
"Very good. Let me know if you detect anything unusual," Vara told Dak. But she needn't have bothered - her first mate was one of the best. An ugly Raqort pirate vessel wouldn't get within ten klicks of them unnoticed.
Leaving Dak to run the smooth operation on the bridge, Vara headed down to check on the rest of her loyal crew. She couldn't have asked for a finer bunch of scoundrels and misfits. They were more family than employees after so many years together.
In the galley, she found Meks, the four-armed cook, hard at work preparing lunch. He always shuddered dramatically when Vara tried to "help" with recipes after the infamous fire sauce incident. She quietly slipped a little extra spice into the stew anyway before moving on. Meks could take it.
A few good-natured taunts and tall tales with the engineers getting the aging engines tuned up lifted Vara's spirits even more. She loved the camaraderie and idle hours between jobs almost as much as the adventures. The humdrum life planetside had never been for her.
After checking inventory in the hold, Vara decided they were well stocked for a big trading haul. The Federation's expansion meant lots of raw metals and fuel opportunities for enterprising independents like her.
Of course, she had heard troubling rumors lately about Federation authorities harassing and grounding unregistered carriers. But Vara wasn't too concerned - she had ways to make sure the right palms got greased at customs if needed.
Vara was heading back up to grab some of Meks' now properly spiced lunch when Dak's voice crackled urgently over the ship's comms - "Captain, you better get up here quick! Sensors are reading multiple Federation interceptor ships converging on an escape pod dead ahead!"
"Try hailing them and see if they need assistance. But keep our distance," Vara ordered, racing to the bridge. She had a bad feeling about this.
On the viewscreen, Vara watched the sleek interceptor ships surrounding the small pod while ignoring their hails. Energy buildup scans showed they were powering up weapons to blast the helpless craft. What was going on?
"Captain, that pod is hailing us directly! Audio only," Dak reported nervously.
Vara quickly opened the channel. "Independent freighter Starchaser responding. Do you need aid?"
A strained voice replied through bursts of static: "Starchaser...you must run! This is Lakri Dannon...the Federation has branded me a terrorist! Please, warn others before they..."
The transmission cut off in a burst of weapons fire as the interceptors vaporized the pod. Vara's blood chilled. Dannon was one of Admiral Kross's top advisors if she recalled correctly. What did it mean for him to be killed like that?
"Captain, what are your orders?" Dak asked tensely. "Those ships just saw us..."
Vara set her jaw. "We finish our run. Once dirtside, you look into any rumors about a resistance and let me know. Discreetly."
Dak nodded solemnly. Vara had a bad feeling whatever was happening with the Federation, they wanted no witnesses. She would need to tread carefully.
Over the next several weeks working the trade lanes, Vara and Dak slowly put together pieces of the puzzle. Apparently a Admiral Nyra had taken over leadership and declared martial law, branding any skeptics or rivals as terrorists. Kross hadn't been seen in public for months.
In spaceports and trading posts, they heard fearful whispers of nightmare security operations spiraling out of control and disappearing dissenters. The totalitarian horror stories hit too close to home for Vara. She had seen firsthand what stable civilization could become when fear ruled.
Their cargo runs now included clandestine information and supply drops coordinated by Dak to the pockets of resistance emerging in the lawless Border Zone. Everyone was laying low, but folks were getting organized. Vara made sure to avoid explicit sedition, but her days ignoring injustice were past. Some things you didn't look away from.
While on a rare shore leave for repairs at Galta Station, Vara decided to let her crew blow off steam gambling and drinking on the seedy pleasure barge docked nearby. She would catch up on the ugly Federation news.
Sitting in the dark corner booth nursing her drink, Vara called up reports on her datapad. She usually loved soaking up the shady pirate bar atmosphere, but these days the carefree fun felt harder to grasp. Storm clouds were gathering over something far bigger than her small ship.
Her mood only darkened as she scanned through accounts of Federation colonists brutalizing native settlements for resistance ties and police gunning down protesters on capital worlds. Things were speeding toward some kind of brink. She prayed Kross was still out there somehow trying to steer things right.
A voice from the shadows jolted Vara from her thoughts. "Troubling times for freelancers and rogues, eh Captain?"
She whirled, pistol drawn, to see a cloaked figure regarding her with calm, humorless eyes. A Loki agent, from their look. Vara had heard the frightening stories.
"I ain't looking for trouble, pal. My ship's no threat to your Federation," Vara said carefully, ready to shoot if needed.
But the spymaster raised a hand. "Peace, Captain. I am fleeing their tyranny same as you. But together, we may just spark the fire that lights the way back."
Vara knew she was risking much taking the spy's offer of alliance. But staying neutral was no longer an option if she wanted to keep smuggling free and clear. Better to pick a side than wait to be caught in the middle. And she knew oppression too well to ignore it growing.
They met again secretly on Galta after Vara's crew was back aboard the Starchaser and ready for some real flying if needed. Time grew short - today they chose action or complicity. The agent called himself simply Rake.
"Our forces can provide intelligence, coordination between cells, and resources once organized," Rake said. "What we need are brave souls willing to take the fight through action, not just words."
Vara nodded solemnly. "I'm with you. My ship and crew are at your disposal, Admiral Rake."
Rake managed a grim smile at the unofficial promotion. "Let us hope we all live to see ranks made official in a free navy someday. For now, duty remains ours to uphold."
They clasped arms. Vara felt the weight of something vast shift into motion, events chain-reacting beyond control. An old Jamaican proverb came to mind - "De higher de monkey climbs, de more he expose heself." For all their sakes, she prayed they saw this through.
Bidding the agent farewell, Vara returned to her ship with energies renewed. She ordered Meks to take them out fast while she informed the crew of their new calling. A rousing cheer went up at the news. Come what may, the Starchaser flew with destiny now. Let justice demand all they could give.
Gazing out at the stars streaking past, Vara wondered if Jason Kross still fought somewhere for the dream too. Either way, she would carry the torch for freedom's return voyage however she was able. That solemn pledge echoed between her heart and the uncaring void as into the darkness unbowed her bold engines sang.