Category: Novel: Polaris Station

A full novel development

P.S. C1S1R1: High-Altitude Launch

(May 12, 2026 R1 Revision notes: Changed from jet-wings to powered hang gliders. Also updated per reviewer comments.)

Sierra Nevada’s, California

Polaris Station concept art

“We are ‘go’ for terminal countdown.” Inside his dark helmet, Kendall Parker saw his own eyes reflecting in the heads-up-display (HUD). “Flight computer, confirm ‘go’ for flight.”

The long shadows over Yosemite promised perfect conditions for a powered hang-glider flight. 

“Checklist complete,” the helmet computer voice confirmed. “All subsystems ready.”

With characteristic theatrical confidence Kendall called out to his flight partner via two-way radio, “Our altitude is ninety-five hundred feet. When we reach ten-thousand, and on my mark, pull your platform release lever, dive straight down for five seconds, ignite engine, then pitch up towards the horizon.” Kendall nodded. “Then… have fun.” As if an afterthought he added. “And… If there’s serious trouble, disconnect harness and activate parachute.” 

Face down, forty-five-year-old Kendall and his young-adult daughter, Becca, rose higher and higher, toe-to-toe, on a platform under a heavy-lift drone. 

“And what about the Rangers?” Becca said. “Their gonna be waiting for us this time.”

Becca had flown many times and knew the drill, but put up with her father’s pride and prerogative to show off and instruct his students. 

“What are they gonna do, fine me?” Kendall replied. “Besides, the park rules don’t specifically prohibit a small engine…”

Below, the sparse granite domes, scenic view parking lots, and ranger stations slowly retreated.

“Dad,” Becca exclaimed over the helmet radio, “can you believe that moonrise?”

Kendall hesitated, then rotated his helmet right. “Stunning.” Then he refocused on his HUD.

“Ninety-six hundred feet.” He looked again at the nearly full moon for more than a moment as though fighting an emotion. Finally, he turned back, lowered his visor and looked west, “Awe! Can you believe that sunset?”

Head-to-toe flight suits enshrouded each aviator, his red, hers yellow. Crowned by white helmets with embedded cameras they would rule the skies and record the flight. Each white-knuckled hand was gloved, right hands gripping there respective motorcycle-style throttle. Each left thumb, pressing lightly on the platform release lever. Like winged serifs departing heaven, each pilot was attached by harness to bright-colored, swept-back five-meter delta-wings. 

“Ninety-eight hundred,” Kendall called out.

Each chest lowered in deep breath, the smell of cedar, pine and campfire now diminished. Each pilot flexed their fingers out and in on the grips, slowly rotating ankles left and right. Programed to track, choreograph and film their flight until touchdown, the drone with its loud quad-copter hum drowned out each accelerating heart beat. The lower horizontal platform hung from the overhead drone by a single round structural column. 

“Ninety-nine hundred.”

Looking down, Kendall could see the sharp, nearly straight summit ridge of Half Dome. The west face was a brilliant golden glow streaked with several whiter bands of granite descending down the mountain. The back side of the dome was gray and shadowed.

“Ready!”

Both pilots checked their harness carabiner, gripped the control bar, rolled their shoulders and heads back and forth, leaned forward on the platform.

“On my mark. Three, two, one, mark.”

Click. Click. Like a trap-door, the platform folded quickly downward, releasing its load from both sides.

Simultaneously Kendall and Becca slid away from each other off the platform. As they left the platform, the drone lunged upward, relieved. Earth pulled them downward like Olympic divers. The upward wind filled their sails. The drone relocated rapidly. Each pilot ignited their respective engine, accelerated, pushed out on their control bars and pitched up in opposite directions toward the horizon. Looking left, Kendall noted the drone in perfect position to video them separating with Half Dome in the background. Their exposed facial skin fluttered against the cool pulsating air waves, flying like eagles, diving and soaring to their heart’s content. Throttling back, they glided toward Half Dome. Kendall led the way with Becca flanking close behind on his right and the drone on his left like three birds in draft formation. Passing familiar peaks and points, they stealthily leveled off at one-thousand feet above the valley floor and headed straight for Yosemite Falls then a close pass of El Capitan.

Adrenaline overcame restraint. 

“Yes!” Without thinking, Kendall let go with one hand and pumped his fist. “That’s how you do it.”

“Perfect!” Becca yelled.

The granite cliffs echoed their concurrence.

__________

Reader comments requested – I appreciate suggestions on clarity, flow, dialogue, characters and engagement. I especially welcome technical subject matter expert discussion. Challenge assumptions and help improve realism and storytelling.

P.S. C1S3: Buzzing Mariposa

(This is part of a serialized novel. Click MENU + Polaris Station to read and comment on latest revisions)

Mariposa Grove

Polaris Station concept image

The drone filmed Kendall and Becca from a safe distance.

Exiting Yosemite Valley, they vectored south to Mariposa Grove. Each flyer glanced west, their eyes drawn as the sun flickered half below the horizon. Each glanced at their watches. 

“We’ve got twelve minutes of fuel,” Kendall said.

They then banked southeast up the foothills to sweep the tops of two-thousand-year-old Sequoias. 

“Okay Becca,” Kendall said. “How many earth science majors get this kind of view of their subjects?”

“It’s awesome, Dad.” Becca had insisted Mariposa be included. “Fly directly above me,” she called out. “Use your helmet cam to capture my encounter.”

“Will do, Becca.”

Moments later she said, “Breathe deep. What do you smell? Can you break down the cocktail?”

“The cocktail? What do you…”

“In prep for flight, I queried what it would smell like over Mariposa. They say it’s a warm cocktail of ancient trees baking in the sun floating in crisp mountain air.”

“That’s poetic,” Kendall responded. “To me it’s just sugar pines and ponderosa. With a hint of butterscotch.”

“How about the cinnamon?” Becca continued, “And can’t you taste that ‘sharp’ resin clearing the sinuses. And there’s just a hint of…”

“Six minutes of fuel.” Kendall interrupted. “Got’a turn back.”

Departing Mariposa, Kendall signaled and pushed his control bar left for a broad right-hand turn back toward El Capitan for a Leidig Meadow landing. Becca followed.

“That’s not right,” Becca heard Kendall say.

“Come again,” Becca said.

Kendall shook his digital compass. “Becca! Come alongside and tell me your compass heading.”

“What’s the problem?”

“By terrain, we’re headed for El Capitan, but my compass is bouncing around 275 degrees. It should be…”

“Shouldn’t it be…” She said.

“It should be about 340 to 350,” Kendall repeated. 

In the deep tones of twilight, the two pilots used familiar terrain to get safely to Leidig Meadow.

“Dad, it looks like we have a greeting party.”

Kendall looked over his shoulder and noted a Ranger’s F-150 Lightning next to his Tesla Cyber-U as he made his approach in the meadow. He read the meadow wind sock perfectly and as his feet began to clip the milkweed and Lillies, he pitched and flashed up with a running foot landing. Becca followed suit but planted her knees abruptly but safely in the moist soil.

The drone had landed first and recorded their touchdown.

Suddenly the Ranger climbed into his truck, heard something in his radio, and spun his wheels in the grass as he left.

They removed their flight gear, disassembled the gliders, collapsed the drone, and loaded the truck and trailer. The sky was black as they drove to the park exit and headed for home. 

Enthusiastic conversation was interrupted when they turned the truck radio on.

“We repeat,” the broadcaster said, “Northern pacific regions reporting sporadic HF broadcast interruptions, weather satellite dropouts, and GPS inaccuracies.”

Kendall instinctively lowered his head and looked up through the windshield to the west where the sun was now far below the trees. Then, fighting a triggered, he looked through his rear view mirror and up at the Moon, now near the tops of the trees. 

Becca noticed his motion. “Dad. Do you think it was a CME?”

Kendall didn’t speak.

Becca continued, “The electromagnetic radiation would explain…”

Kendall pulled off the road and looked into the east sky again. As another car passed, Becca noticed headlight reflection on sweat that appeared on her father’s forehead. 

Kendall shook his head. “I sure hope they…”

“Dad,” Becca grabbed her father by the arm. “You don’t think Grandpa Parker might be in trouble?”

“I don’t know,” His eyes glued to the moon. “Let’s hope they got the warning in time.” Kendall pulled back onto the highway and scanned various channels for five hours, all the way back to Santa Barbara.

__________

Reader comments requested – I appreciate suggestions on clarity, flow, dialogue, characters and engagement. I especially welcome technical subject matter expert discussion. Challenge assumptions and help improve realism and storytelling.

P.S. C1S2: Solar Anomaly Detection

(This is part of a serialized novel. Click MENU + Polaris Station to read and comment on latest revisions)

University of California – Santa Barbara

Concept Art for Polaris Station

Dr. Katya Parker pulled back the tinted double-doors and walked into the lab. Her grad students had turned up the volume on her favorite oldie, Drops of Jupiter (Tell Me) by Train.

“She’s back in the atmosphere,” her student at the Telemetry console quipped.

Parker grabbed a short hand rail firmly and stepped down and toward the holographic display in the center of the round room. She pushed her fingers like a comb slowly from front to back through her ash blonde hair.

“But tell me,…” She sang quietly. “Did you sail across the sun…”

The bright holographic sun illuminated her gazing brown eyes which scanned each student seated at consoles labeled, Telemetry, Instruments, Spectral, Orbital, and Simulation.

“Any notable observations since I left?”

The spectral analyst leaned back from her monitor. “For the last hour, some twisted solar filament loops are rising slowly suspended in the solar magnetic field.”

“Ah, finally. Some action tonight. Any effect on Venus?”

“Only subtle heating and expansion of the upper ionosphere,” Spectral replied. “But the solar wind is steady.”

Raising her eyebrows Parker said, “I know Friday night research is tough,” she looked around the room with a grin, “But, you could have brought a friend.” Nodding toward Simulation she said to the youngest person in the room. “Dmitry, did I ever tell you about the dates your father and I had at the astronomy lab during…” 

“Yah, Mom,” Dmitry said, then corrected himself. “I mean, professor. I’ve heard the story.”

Dmitry, also blonde, was curious, inventive, and a high-school computer genius. The grad students loved it when he accompanied his mother to the lab. He carried a big load running predictive models and managing visualizations. 

At UCSB, they were pulling a late-nighter in the well stocked Department of Astronomy and Astrophysics observatory. Thanks to recent public interest and government funding for solar research, the latest technologies consumed all available space.

“Professor, we’re used to odd-hour duty,” the easy-going student sitting at the Instruments console said. “When we chose astronomy, we knew we chose dark rooms, remote mountain tops, and research hours outside our own choosing.”

“Besides,” Spectral added, “When the amazing universe speaks, where else would our astronomy brains want to be?”

Several afternoon hours had already been consumed. The team was characterizing extreme solar radiation reacting with the hellish Venus atmosphere. With pre-scheduled, AI-assisted targeting and remote control, they owned for the rest of the night the twin Keck telescopes on Mauna Kea, where it was mid-afternoon. They had pre-approval to stream Inouye Solar Telescope data from Maui if needed. Keck video and numerical data streams flowed across several monitors in the lab.

The observatory was circular with workstations positioned for operator focus toward the center. Orbital got up, looked through several pizza boxes and relieved one of the boxes of a large slice, a string of cheese refusing to break from the box.

“Dr. Parker?” Telemetry remained focused on his monitor. “We’re getting a reading I don’t understand.”

“Astonishing! please enlighten us.”

All eyes turned to Telemetry.

“The predictive model is filtering out effects of all cataloged ephemerides. Based on known orbiting objects… this residual shouldn’t exist…”

“Vhat residual?” Dr. Parker said, this time her slight Russian accent was clear. “Vhat are you talking about?”

Telemetry responded, “A trace amplification arc in the Venus reflective telemetry… I surmise a sizable object approaching the sun.”

“A trace amplification arc?” She asked. “A sizable object?” Dmitry, re-route and intensify the data into the holo-globe,”

All students looked up at the lab’s primary display, a one-point-five-meter diameter glass ball filled with chromatically sensitive gas. An array of variable frequency lasers in the mount excited selective molecules within. A curved line appeared and arched its way through space toward the animated sun.

“Vhat are the factors defining its trajectory?” Dr. Parker asked. “Is the Ephemeris estimator active?

Orbital responded, “Visual triangulation from the twin scopes correlates with the radiation signature. If these readings are correct, the object will intercept the sun.”

“Simulation,” Parker interrupted. 

Dmitry looked around the room proudly. “Yes, professor.”

Dr. Parker continued. “Keep streaming the latest data to the sphere. Everyone. Seek confirmation from your perspective and instruments. Let’s have some hypotheses. Run your numbers and report.”

“Dr. Parker,” Orbital called out. “It’s a sun grazer. I did a quick mapping of its trajectory to catalogued objects and until two days ago… It’s trajectory matched P2. It has an orbital period of five years. It passed Earth three weeks ago.”

“But P2…” Dr. Parker countered, “P2 passes the sun at an altitude of about one sun diameter. Are you sure it’s P2?”

“What ever it is,” Dmitry interrupted. “The trajectory extrapolator predicts corona penetration within an hour, if it survives even that long.”

Dr. Parker scratched her head then pointed at Orbital, “But how, when and why did P2 change course?” 

“This is no perturbation–it had to be a delta-v event.” Orbital assured. “Objects don’t change perihelion without energy. Something pushed it.”

Several heads turned toward Orbital.

Dr. Parker questioned, “Something pushed it? What about out-casing?” Dr. Parker poseted to stir inquiry. “Could escaping gas be enough for this magnitude of delta-v?”

In the holosphere the object continued in a parabolic arc toward the sun while solar radiation torched it violently hurling a tail of particles away from the sun.

“Instruments,” Parker directed. “Bring in Haleakala! Connect the Inouye Solar Telescope.”

“Of course,” Instruments said. “Accessing Inouye data stream.”

The holographic image of the sun suddenly enhanced in detail and fidelity.

“Increase magnification.” Dr. Parker leaned in toward the globe.

The sun was a brilliant orange with tumultuous waves of red, textured like the human brain, freckled by dark spots here and there. P2 glowed brighter, pushing its way through a shock wave. It suddenly detonated, creating its own fireball. 

Moments later, a relatively small sun spot appeared below the explosion, which grew, then imploded and disappeared.

Dr. Parker pointed at the spot while looking at Simulation. “Increase magnification!” 

Ripples, like a pebble dropped on a pond, propagated out from the spot increasing and decreasing cyclically until they faded and were gone.

All went quiet in the lab except the playlist.

Then a bright crack opened up on the suns surface and a flaming plume erupted, grew rapidly as though vomiting something it just swallowed. A giant ejection of coronal mass followed.

Spectral called out, “It’s a CME!” 

“Zoom out!” Dr. Parker demanded. “Increase field of view to include Earth.” 

Dmitry placed his thumb and forefinger on his input pad and slowly moved them toward each other. Earth appeared in the globe opposite the sun.

__________

Reader comments requested – I appreciate suggestions on clarity, flow, dialogue, characters and engagement. I especially welcome technical subject matter expert discussion. Challenge assumptions and help improve realism and storytelling.

Invitation to participate in Polaris Station

Concept art for Polaris Station

Dear Engineering Stories readers, some of you have subscribed to this blog since 2012. Thank you for your interest and support. I have enjoyed sharing and expressing my trade, engineering. A few years ago I started a Novel called Polaris Station to explore writing and systems engineering on a major scale. It is partially complete and I’m now ready to start releasing this novel serially, one scene at a time. I’m modeling this process after Andy Weir who wrote The Martian (Also wrote, Project Hail Mary) and released it serially. Like Andy, I’m attempting to be as engineering realistic as possible and I’m asking my readers to provide comments to improve each scene. Specifically, I appreciate suggestions on clarity, flow, dialogue, characters and engagement. I especially welcome technical subject matter expert discussion, challenge of assumptions and help improving realism and storytelling. I earnestly invite each of you to read and reply on each scene or chapter. If you plan to participate, please indicate in the comment block below.

The latest revision of each scene and chapter is available on the Menu item labeled, Polaris Station.

Respectfully, Kenneth R. Hardman

P.S. C1S1: High-Altitude Launch

Sierra Nevada’s, California

Concept art for Polaris Station

“We are ‘go’ for terminal countdown.” Inside his dark helmet, forty-five-year-old Kendall Parker saw his own eyes reflecting in the heads-up-display (HUD). “Flight computer, confirm ‘go’ for flight.”

The long shadows over Yosemite promised perfect conditions for a jet-wing flight. 

“Checklist complete,” the female computer voice confirmed. “All subsystems ready.”

With characteristic theatrical confidence Kendall called out to his flight partner, “Our altitude is ninety-five hundred feet. When we reach ten-thousand, and on my mark, pull your docking release lever, back-dive straight down for five seconds, ignite engines, roll one-eighty, then pitch up towards the horizon.” Kendall nodded. “Then… have fun.” As if an afterthought he added. “And… If there’s serious trouble, eject your wings and activate parachute.” 

Kendall Parker and his young-adult daughter, Becca, rose higher and higher, facing each other, standing on the foot rails of a heavy-lift drone. 

“And what about the Rangers?” Becca said. “They almost tracked you last time.” Becca had flown many times and knew the drill, but put up with her father’s pride and prerogative to show off and instruct his students. 

“What are they gonna do, give me a fine?” Kendall replied. 

Below, the sparse granite domes, scenic view parking lots, and ranger stations slowly retreated.

“Dad,” Becca exclaimed over the helmet radio, “can you believe that moonrise?”

Kendall rotated his helmet right. “Stunning.” Then he refocused on his HUD.

“Ninety-six hundred feet.” He looked back at the nearly full moon for more than a moment as though fighting an emotion. Finally, he turned back, lowered his visor and looked west, “Awe! Can you believe that sunset?”

Head-to-toe flight suits enshrouded each aviator, his red, hers yellow. Crowned by white helmets with embedded cameras they would rule the skies and record the flight. Each white-knuckled hand was gloved, right hands gripping there respective motorcycle-style throttle. Each left thumb, pressing lightly on the release lever. Like winged serifs departing heaven, each pilot was bound by harness to light-blue, three-meter V-wings. 

“Ninety-eight hundred,” Kendall called out.

Each chest raised in deep breath, the smell of cedar, pine and campfire now diminished. Each pilot flexed their fingers out and in on the grips, slowly rotating heals left and right, pressing against the foot platform. The loud vibration of the quad-copter propellers drowned out each accelerating heart beat. The lower drone structure resembled the basket of a hot air-balloon with equipped with a fully gimbaled camera on the bottom. Software ready to command the drone to track, choreograph and film their flight until touchdown.

“Ninety-nine hundred.”

Leaning back slightly and looking down over his shoulder, Kendall could see the sharp nearly straight summit ridge of Half Dome. The north-west face was a brilliant golden glow streaked with several whiter bands of granite descending down the mountain. The back side of the dome was gray and shadowed.

“Ready!”

Both pilots again planted the balls of their feet across the lower railing, rolling their shoulders and heads back and forth, leaning away from the drone.

“On my mark. Three, two, one, mark.”

Click. Click. 

Simultaneously Kendall and Becca fell away. As their feet left the rails, the drone lunged upward, relieved. Earth pulled them downward like Olympic divers doing coordinated back dives from opposite sides of the platform. Twisting at the waist, V-wings followed their shape and they body-rolled until face to face, upside down about twenty meters apart. The drone relocated rapidly. Each pilot ignited their engines, accelerated, arched their backs, then pitched up in opposite directions toward the horizon. Looking left, Kendall noted the drone in perfect position to video them separating at high speed. Their exposed facial skin fluttered against the pulsating air waves, flying like eagles, diving and soaring to their hearts content. Throttling back, they glided toward Half Dome. Kendall led the way with Becca flanking close behind on his right and the drone on his left like three birds in draft formation. Passing familiar peaks and points, they stealthily leveled off at one-thousand feet above the valley floor and headed straight for Yosemite Falls then a close pass of El Capitan.

Adrenaline overcame restraint. 

“Wahoo!” Kendall exclaimed.

“Yahoo!” Becca followed.

The granite cliffs replied. 

__________

Reader comments requested – I appreciate suggestions on clarity, flow, dialogue, characters and engagement. I especially welcome technical subject matter expert discussion. Challenge assumptions and help improve realism and storytelling.

P.S. Prologue: Hushed Horizons

(This is part of a serialized novel. Click MENU + Polaris Station to read and comment on latest revisions)

Concept art for Polaris Station

The Commander stopped, tilted his helmet slightly and nodded slowly, eyes closed. The music volume oscillated, unhurried. Crackling static engulfed his crew’s upbeat playlist. One astronaut turned toward another and tapped the side of his helmet. Gloved hands slowly lifted toward the horizon as a flicker of light drew attention. A cylindrical object slowly tumbling end over end drifted across the black sky. Everyone froze. Minutes passed. 

The radio static dimmed to a whisper, then silent as the object seemed to run for cover in the brilliant glow of the sun. Momentarily blinded, helmets turned a few degrees to the right, where reflected moon light revealed the home planet, faintly glowing in its own shadow.  The lights in and around Rio de Janeiro, and New York speckled the dark blue and white disk. The crew’s playlist resumed. The astronauts one by one turned back to their work.

“Uh… can anyone explain that?” a newer crew member asked across the open crew frequency.“ What was… Where did it come from?”

“Second one since we got here,” Another replied. “We reported it, but the answer was…”

“Site Ops?” A strong voice interrupted the conversation. 

Several crew members turned toward their commander perched on a platform near the lava tube. He was looking some distance at a cylindrical elevated module with small rounded window ports, antennas on top. 

“Roger, this is Site Ops. Yes commander?” 

“Log and report…” The commander ordered with a flat tone.

“Already done sir.”

The crew resumed surveying the cavern for habitat suitability. The commander remained in place, hand on the safety railing, face shield towards Earth. Seemingly distracted by its thin sun-lit crescent, he raised his left arm in front of his visor and checked his watch.  He reflected audibly, “California. Friday evening. Yosemite.”

“Say again,” Site Ops inquired. “Can you repeat that?”  

The commander quickly reached for his belt audio control unit (ACU) and flipped a switch. He turned back toward Site Ops, crossed both arms above his head with palms facing forward. He turned again back toward Earth and thought to himself, “Amazing. From here, Earth never rises. Never sets. It just turns every twenty-four hours like a rotisserie roasting over a fire.” He gazed upward, then back to the crescent. “She said they would be flying tonight? I wonder if he’ll get caught this time? I wish I could watch, the sun setting to the west, the nearly full moon rising here in the East, their ascent, their descent…” 

After a minute or two he nodded, and as if he was on Earth for just a moment said, “Son! You’re so passionate…like your father, I suppose. We both wanted the same thing… We both wanted to be space architects. If only you were more rigorous in academics, you could have followed me into space.”

__________

Reader comments requested – I appreciate suggestions on clarity, flow, dialogue, characters and engagement. I especially welcome technical subject matter expert discussion. Challenge assumptions and help improve realism and storytelling.

P.S. Synopsis: Polaris Station

(This is part of a serialized novel. Click MENU + Polaris Station to read and comment on latest revisions)

Concept art for Polaris Station

In 2055, a mysterious object drifts across the lunar sky—untracked, unexplained—and disappears into the sun. Soon after, the world begins to fail. Satellites malfunction. Radiation storms ripple across Earth and space. Humanity dependent systems start to unravel, and no one can explain why.

When Kendall Parker (aerospace engineer) and his wife Katya (astronomer) witness other anomalies, they are pulled into a covert effort to confront a growing, invisible threat. As governments scramble and factions clash, a daring solution emerges: Polaris Station—an orbital system designed to detect and deflect catastrophic space events before they strike.

But building it will test more than technology. Embittered by past betrayals and strained relationships, Kendall must learn to rely on a team of engineers, astronauts, and family members to solve problems no one person can fix alone.

As the system comes online, something goes wrong. A rogue satellite. A rising solar crisis. And evidence that the danger may not be entirely natural.

With time running out, Polaris Station must do what it was designed to do—before everything humanity has built is lost.

__________

Reader comments requested – I appreciate suggestions on clarity, flow, dialogue, characters and engagement. I especially welcome technical subject matter expert discussion. Challenge assumptions and help improve realism and storytelling.