Schism of Blood and Stone (The Starfield Theory Book 1)

by Brian Frederico

  Salena's patience wavered at the Azuren's weak exaggerations and delaying tactics like a warrior parrying too many sword blows. He is so old it is amazing he can still hold his head up. Should have retired decades ago or whatever it is they do with ancient Azuren who have long since left their wits behind them.

  “I assure you, my Lord Azuren, our travel is most urgent. We require exclusive use of the stargate for our fleet,” she said calmly, again. “I have that right as Commonwealth nobility.”

  “Hmm quite right,” the Azuren mumbled as he squinted at the fleet's composition. “These vessels are all armed.”

  “Yes.”

  “And quite large, too. It could take hours to generate the sort of power needed to jump them.”

  An outright lie, Salena realized. He probably meant it could take hours to fill in all the paperwork.

  “My lord Azuren,” Salena said slowly as her patience began to melt away like the snow on the mountaintops outside her old home on Magdeborg. “I beg of your goodwill to allow us through as quickly as possible. We really cannot afford to be delayed any further.”

  “Is there a problem here?” Another Azuren asked as he entered the room. Salena hadn't even heard the door open.

  If Thessilony could have a more opposite associate, Salena could not image how. The huge Azuren was probably half his age. His pure white, thick hair was cropped closely to his head and shaved in areas that allowed him to interface with machines via hidden SESE tattoos. He was a warrior then. His muscles bristled even under a black uniform and he stood so still and straight Salena almost mistook him for a statue. His face could have been chiseled from rock anyway, she thought. The pride of the Azuren genetics program. If the human empires could use him as a recruiting tool their armies would attract millions.

  “No, my Lord Azuren. We wish only to be on our way so my Lord Thessilony can be free of our trivial concerns,” Salena said graciously. With a pang, she realized she almost meant it.

  “What's the delay then, geransis?” the newer Azuren asked, using a polite, but abrupt, term reserved for the oldest Azuren. Thessilony's face sagged even further.

  “It is a war fleet. It would take hours to produce the sort of gravitonics necessary to open-”

  “She has the right as a Commonwealth noble to pass through whether she has one ship or a thousand.”

  “I am aware,” Thessilony said as his eyes narrowed and seemed to vanish.

  “Good then there shouldn't be any further need for discussion,” the younger Azuren said. “Charge the coils and put the queue on standby.”

  The older Azuren's face seemed to shake with rage, reminding Salena of various gelatinous desserts at holiday meals.

  “Of course,” he said.

  Salena stood then bowed deeply to the old Azuren as he issued orders through his data pad. She exited quickly before there could be any further discussion, but the young Azuren followed her into the hall.

  “Please excuse the manners of my associate,” he said, closing the door behind him only after he had finished speaking, giving Thessilony enough time to hear. “My name is Alos. I am the Supreme Legate to Magdeborg.”

  “I remember you from my father's court on Magdeborg. He would never let me near you out of his silly fears. I must thank you, Lord Azuren, for your assistance. We are in your debt,” Salena said bowing her head.

  “Perhaps, but all debt will be forgiven if you only satisfy my curiosity.”

  Salena paused, her mind rapidly considering what the Azuren would ask. Finding no question that would be too offensive she agreed.

  “Where is you are taking this great fleet of yours?”

  “To Magdeborg,” she said immediately, seeing no advantage in misleading him. Her fleet would not be difficult to track.

  “I was not aware the Dominion had advanced so far. Surely, the Sørensens are capable of repelling them?” He was playing ignorant, fishing for information.

  Salena's fist closed about the hem of her robes. “The Sørensens have claimed the throne as their own. We must correct this oversight in their governance.”

  Alos' eyes rose in mock surprise. “Is that so? I did not take the Sørensens for usurpers. I must say this is most unexpected.”

  All Azuren are bad liars, Salena thought. “Wars require the application of time and money. This is more similar to a parent correcting the poor behavior of her child.”

  “With warships and destriers,” Alos chuckled at the imagery. “I have delayed you too long then. You are free to go.”

  Salena bowed her head again and turned to leave.

  “Duchess,” Alos called after her. “A word of advice, perhaps?”

  She turned back. “I'd be foolish to ignore the wisdom of Azuren when offered so freely.”

  Alos' face lost its previous charm, replaced by a look so cold it could freeze nitrogen. “Magdeborg is a dangerous place. A throne so hard does terrible things to ones' mind, especially one gained through violence. You are strong, but even the greatest monuments to power fall to time and corrosion.”

  Alos smiled. “Walk with Amrah, Duchess Salena.”

  “And you,” Salena responded sourly. She bowed her head again then left the Azuren standing in the hall. Nothing but scripture quotations, she rolled her eyes. I could find more useful advice on the bathroom stalls in bars.

  Once reunited with her fleet, Salena Teton-Sten tapped her fingers anxiously on the side of the railing that encircled a massive fluid tank. Inside, tiny representations of her fleet floated, orbiting the Danvers stargate. They were waiting for the Azuren signal to power up the gate's jump coils that controlled the star's gravity, pinching space time and pulling it towards her final destination. She rather enjoyed the idea of space moving to accommodate her. It seemed so much more powerful than traveling through passively. Space became a tool rather than a medium.

  More importantly, due to her unique status as Commonwealth royalty, she was bumped to the front of the long line of waiting star ships by the grumpy Thessilony. Other spacers, even those employed by the most powerful mega companies had to wait. A satisfied warmth crept up her limbs through her fingers and toes.

  The assembled Teton fleet was the largest assemblage of ships in the history of the house. She had at her fingertips four battleships, nearly a dozen battle cruisers and many times that number support ships and lesser combat vessels. Perhaps the only force in the Commonwealth capable of rivaling it was Damien's own defensive fleet on the Dominion border. Not even the Sørensens could muster such power.

  She stood on the Bargmoar's command deck, an isolated section overlooking the main deck where the various pilots, gunners and technicians managed the ship's systems. The ship was named for the huge battle that marked the formation of House Teton and their rise to power a thousand years ago. The confines were cramped, as they were on all ships, but she enjoyed looking over the activity of the personnel below. The main deck was large as decks went on board warships, occupying a space that could easily fit several fighter craft. Most firms tried to limit the size of the bridges and hallways on vessels they built back then. Wide open areas tended to take up space best used for other systems like cargo, weapons, electronics and armor. While a large deck was unusual among ships, the Teton-Stens had insisted on a sort of grand scale in everything they built. Their war fleets were no exception.

  Beside her, Sir Magnus Teton-Sten stood at rigid military attention. He stood a full 1.9 meters, towering over most of his subordinates. He had inherited his father's height and thick brown hair, but his brilliant blue eyes were indicators of Sten blood. As was customary, the first-born child of any noble house entered the military so his personality and behavior revolved around his service to the near exclusion of all else. This was his ship, after all, intended to be the vanguard of the invasion force. Magnus was the ranking knight and she had shown him the deference that his title commanded without sacrificing any of her own authority. He must be seen as a leader and not just his mother's son.r />
  While he had a hand in the planning of the invasion of Magdeborg, the details had been left up to the other Teton generals. He was only twenty-six, still young and inexperienced. He'd seen only a few border skirmishes and was kept well away from the thick of the fighting despite his protests. Four years earlier he had been severely wounded in a training accident, losing part of his left arm when it was crushed in the collapsed cockpit of his destrier. Terrified that the wound would end his military career early, the Tetons turned to the Azuren for help. They replaced the limb with a prosthesis and synthetic skin manufactured by House Mason with support from Azuren scientists which looked real and nearly moved as convincingly as a flesh and blood arm.

  The price, though, was enormous.

  In return Salena was forced to send her youngest daughter, Isarla, to the Azuren training schools, forbidden from speaking with them for a full two decades until her training was complete and she was a full Averi diplomat and warrior. She had lost her second daughter, but had regained her only son. Magnus was Teton royalty, heir to the Duchy of Danvers, her pride and joy, her heir. The youngest children of royals were always viewed as reserves, just in case the first one failed. As the youngest herself, Salena had learned they were expendable and sometimes were expended to protect those higher up the inheritance chain.

  As much as she loved Magnus, Salena had to temper his fury. As much as he wanted to fight, he couldn't get himself killed fighting some pirate thugs now. She had much more important plans for him, her most powerful weapon. She knew nothing was more dangerous than a young ambitious solider denied his chance to prove himself so for the past week, Magnus had drilled his troops, calling on all of the Teton vassals to contribute soldiers and supplies. The resulting ground force was the largest ever assembled by the Teton clan, nearly two hundred sections of Teton warriors as well as fifty sections of assembled vassals and about that number again of mercenary troops.

  Magnus took a few steps to join his mother. As if echoing her thoughts he said, “House Teton has never seen an invasion of this scale.”

  Salena nodded. “They're ready.”

  “How long do you think Dietrich Sørensen planned his coup?” Magnus asked. “They will have had time to prepare.”

  Salena paused thoughtfully as the first of the Teton ships began to glow brightly before warping and twisting as the star's gravity pulled space together. The ship vanished in a flash.

  She had been careful when explaining the situation to her family back on Danvers. She left out any mention of Archduke Peter's alleged children and insisted Dietrich had claimed the throne for himself. She doubted the children actually existed, but she was not interested in leaving things to chance. She'd already dispatched agents to find them and get rid of them.

  “Perhaps he has been preparing since my father died forty years ago. Perhaps since the days of my grandfather. The Sørensens are long-term thinkers, my son. It's possible they have been plotting for centuries and finally all the pieces fell together now. With the Commonwealth at the losing end of a violent war, our Archduke is dead and the people are divided. The conditions could not be any more ripe.”

  “You think the Sørensens assassinated Archduke Peter?” Magnus asked staring into the holotank. Another ship vanished.

  Salena had considered that question for many sleepless nights in the last week. Why had the Sørensens murdered her brother? How had they done it? How had they managed to fool him for so long? Peter wasn't stupid. If there was a plot to murder him and overthrow the family, surely he'd have found it somehow.

  “I think so, Magnus,” she said finally. “I think they murdered him to gain sympathy from the Azuren and secure a temporary peace with the Dominion while they took the throne. One which we must take back as quickly as we are able.”

  She was interrupted by two women who entered the command deck nearly arm in arm. Cassandra Teton-Sten and Kendra Mason were of a similar height and build and their features soft and delicate, but both hiding a strong interior. They were so close that Magnus' marriage to Kendra would only make their sisterhood official.

  It would be a political marriage, as most between nobility were. Kendra was a Mason and heir to the family's considerable wealth and advanced military technology firms and the entire Aarhus Duchy. Uniting two of the most powerful families in the Commonwealth presented a power bloc that would rule for centuries to come. Before today, the brokering of the marriage was Salena's finest hour, but it would soon be eclipsed.

  “Good morning, Mother,” Kendra said, kissing Salena sweetly on the cheek. She had started calling her 'mother' some months back. Salena did not object.

  Kendra gave Magnus a peck on the cheek and he returned a thin smile. They hadn't seen each other much and her father sent her to Danvers so they could bond. The Sørensen coup interrupted her visit. Normally, Kendra's personality was bubbly enough to bring Magnus out of his occasional moods, but now he was only focused on the upcoming invasion. Salena did not want him treating her rudely.

  Cassandra ignored both of them and leaned on the railing that overlooked the bustling command crew.

  “Have you read over the latest defense reports?” Salena asked, bringing his attention back to the task.

  Magnus nodded happily. He had read and memorized every operational detail probably down to the color scheme and personal crest of each Sørensen knight. “No more than fifty sections, mostly Sørensen, some Sten and a few mercenaries. The Royal Regiments are scattered here and there across the Commonwealth. Even Uncle Damien's host is barely combat effective. Thaddeus Sørensen will command the defense with whatever forces he can scrounge. Dietrich is too old and crippled to do anything more than watch.”

  “I'd be more worried about our uncle,” Cassandra said resting her arms on the railing and sighing. She was the epitome of Teton beauty with her dark skin, almond eyes and straight, dark chocolate hair. She was just a year younger than Magnus and his rival in every respect. Her role as second child meant she was trained as a diplomat not a warrior. It was a hard resented truth that she occasionally voiced when upset. Salena figured, though, that with proper training she could probably rival Magnus on the battlefield as well.

  “Lord Damien?” Magnus asked.

  “No,” Cassandra said patiently. “Uncle Conrad and the Sten House Guard. They are superbly trained, but my contacts couldn't say for sure if he would intervene.”

  “You think he'll stay up in his mountain fortress while we fight the Sørensens? Not likely,” Magnus said, giving his sister a look of doubt mixed with condescension.

  Conrad Sten was Salena's uncle, brother to Haakon Sten, an aging, but capable fighter. For the last fifty years, Conrad led the Sten House Guard, a dozen sections of the nation's best warriors. Officially, they were bodyguards made up of individuals who were combat veterans, but they were not a front line unit. Besides being the Archduke's bodyguards, they were a last defense if Magdeborg was ever invaded.

  Despite their skill, they remained secluded in their mountain holdfast. When Archduke Haakon disappeared, Conrad withdrew from politics and public life into his self-imposed exile. The Guard went with him. He never shared good relations with his nephew Peter and only sent subordinates to perform official duties. By extension, it was likely he did not share good relations with the Sørensens either and blamed them for Haakon's misfortune. Not even Dmitri Filipov, Salena's intelligence expert, could say for sure if they would involve themselves in the invasion. He was a wild card.

  Cassandra flickered her gaze over the Teton fleet sitting in orbit, noting its size and composition. “You are so much like Mother, Magnus,” she teased.

  Kendra chuckled, her sweet voice carrying through the command deck. “Magnus paid attention during all his lessons. The Duchess is not a bad figure to emulate.”

  “Magnus would do better with some subtlety. With a force this size you risk doing serious damage to the city,” Cassandra said. “The people need to see House Teton as saviors, not destroye
rs.”

  “The people must know the Sørensens usurped the throne,” Magnus said. “After centuries of loyal service they've stabbed our house in the back and murdered our Archduke. The usurpers must die and we shall be their executioners.

  “And he has a touch of the theatrical that he got from his father,” Salena said with a grin.

  “A little theater is good for the future Archduke of Magdeborg I think,” Kendra added. “Damien is a crusty, emotionless robot. He has no flair, nothing that captures the attention of the people. My love, you are the dashing young general who will take Magdeborg by storm. The people will love you.”

  “I don't want them to love me, I need them to fear me,” Magnus said.

  “Appearances are everything,” Cassandra argued quickly, not willing to concede the point. “You're too quick to go to extremes, Mag. The will of the people matters. They are afraid and need guidance and stability and you underestimate the power of the Azuren over the commoners. If we cannot provide those basic needs the Azuren might decide they can do so better. We risk turning the Commonwealth into a client state if this does not go over smoothly.”

  “The people understand power,” Magnus lectured. “Our troops don't need subtlety, they have force of arms to accomplish their goals. If that's how we have to maintain control then so be it.”

  “Look, I just think we need to be careful about this. Conrad shouldn't be underestimated and neither should the Sørensens,” Cassandra persisted.

  “Or Damien,” Salena added.

  Both her children looked at her.