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

by Brian Frederico

  “I’d prefer to avoid too many questions from the garrison. It would be better if word of this does not spread,” Pershing explained, almost in apology. “I’m sure the garrison commander would like to talk with you and I’m sure you want to get paid.”

  “That sounds fine by me, my lord,” Chris responded dourly. “We'd like to avoid answering too many questions ourselves.”

  “Understandable.”

  “Chen, watch the bridge and get us ready for takeoff and tell Claire to step outside. Nick come with me,” Chris said. Then, as an afterthought, he added, “Keep the Hronguards on board.”

  The fewer people out there with guns, the better, especially knowing the history of the Hronguards and the Dominion.

  Chris led his officers and the Dominion group to the ship’s personnel access doors. The doors opened and the Dominion nobleman took the head of his troopers and led them from the ship towards the gathered Dominion greeting party.

  Claire joined them as they stepped out. Her uniform was covered in blood and her eyes appeared tired and sad. Two of the Dominion soldiers carried their friend off the ship on a stretcher. He did not look alive.

  Chris waited at the foot of the ramp as Lord Pershing exchanged salutes with the what appeared to be the ranking officer. They spoke quietly for a few moments before he gestured back at Chris and waved him forward and he approached alone. The hangar was cold, dark and smelled musty, much like Garda.

  The garrison commander stood about Chris' height and kept her hair tied back behind her head in a neat ponytail. She had her arms crossed over her chest and regarded Chris with a glare as cold as the hangar. Her dark brown eyes did not seem to be much in the mood for dealing with the details of this little exchange. Her tapping foot indicated she'd rather be anywhere else. Chris read the small name tag: “D. Col. Moore.”

  “This is Captain Kristoffer of the MacCleod. His crew brought us from Goteborg and fought off a Black Lotus raid. We have prisoners which will need to be processed and dealt with,” Pershing said by way of introduction.

  “And a Commonwealth subject no less,” the demi-colonel said regarding Chris as if he were some sort of demented chainsaw murderer. “How'd they get you to smuggle Dominion soldiers?”

  “What do you mean, Colonel?” Chris asked suddenly feeling brave.

  Moore sighed as if explaining the concept to a child. “Your people are supposed to hate us and yet you willingly enter our space, cooperate with our people and protect them against marauders. Are all Commonwealth subjects motivated by money rather than morals?”

  Chris bristled at being the insult, but did his best to ignore the demi-colonel's slight. “We expect only the favor be repaid. In return for the transport of your general, we want guarantees for the safety of innocents at Goteborg as a show of good faith. You must be familiar with the concept, no? We know that's your next target.”

  Moore laughed, a sharp noise like two metal rods crashed together. “Our young captain here is trying some diplomacy on us.”

  The comment drew smirks from several of the other Caephites present. Pershing narrowed his brow which silenced all but Moore.

  “We will do what we can for the Goteborg civilians,” Pershing said authoritatively. “As long as they don't resist, I see no reason for them to be harmed.”

  Moore seemed to snort quietly about the efficacy of her commander's statement and excused herself to handle the Lotus prisoners. They had been pulled from their shuttle by the surviving Hronguards after they tossed in an incapacitation grenade. The prisoners were still groggy, disoriented and dazed. Her staff followed her to the group of pirates under the watch of the Hronguards leaving Chris alone with Pershing.

  “You know it's her type of personality that will ensure this war remain perpetually brutal,” Chris spat. “No offense intended, my lord.”

  Pershing nodded. “Dame Moore is just bitter. It's a back world moon and her only task is pirate-hunting. She's been out here for months and has had little success. You crippled two Lotus frigates in a civilian craft and wiped out an entire marine unit with nothing but mercenaries. I think you can understand her frustration.”

  Chris tried not to blush. “It doesn't look like she has many resources,” Chris said, gesturing at the empty racks.

  Pershing grinned. “Nice try. Don't think we'd bring out the entire force just for this. Or maybe this is really all we have here and everything we have is ready to hit Goteborg.”

  “'Deception is the foundation of all war.'”

  “Hmm quoting Lord General Herad is a rarity these days. A student of war are you?”

  “Only in its theory.”

  “Not after today.”

  Pershing waved to an aide. A smartly dressed man wearing a Dominion uniform and boots so polished Chris could see his reflection hurried forward and saluted in an over dramatic fashion.

  “My Lord?”

  “My data pad please,” Pershing ordered.

  The aide produced a small tablet and handed it over to the general then retreated to a safe distance. He seemed fearful, even timid, hovering just out of earshot.

  “My squire,” Pershing grunted in explanation as he tapped a few keys on the pad. “Your payment has been secured. You are welcome to stay here a few days to conduct repairs on your ship and see to your wounded. We will provide medical supplies and body bags where needed. As I'm sure you understand, I cannot reinforce your security detail. If you run into the Lotus again, you will be on your own.”

  “Yes, thank you, my lord,” Chris said somberly.

  Pershing arced a regal eyebrow. “Something bothering you, Captain?”

  Chris hesitated, “I feel like this money is dirty. I don't know if I want-”

  “Don't mind what Moore said. If you cared more about the money you'd have tried to ransom us off to the Lotus to save your own skins. Instead you placed yourself and your crew in danger to protect your cargo.”

  Chris cast his eyes at the cold floor, unable to look at the nobleman. “I was sealed and secured on the bridge. I was never in any danger.”

  Pershing placed a hand on his shoulder. “That is the curse of being in charge. You are more important alive and in control than fighting alongside your men. There are times when you will discover, probably to your chagrin, that your life is actually more valuable than those of others.”

  “What of Goteborg then? Do I sit idly by as your troops crush my homeworld?”

  Pershing paused. “I didn't realize you are a Goteborg native. A subject of House Evers then? You have family there?”

  Chris nodded sadly and indicated his crew. “We all do.”

  Pershing sighed and looked in the direction in which Moore had stalked. “Captain, you have done me, my family, and my nation a great service. However, we are but minor players. Your small act of good faith will do little to end this conflict, but perhaps it will be rewarded with a similar act by one of those you rescued. That's about the most any of us can ask.”

  Chris tried not to let his dejection show on his face. He was beginning to think he had committed a huge error. Pershing wasn't going to do anything to help. Drayton had misled him.

  Pershing looked at his notepad. “Your company has received payment from a fake company tied to the Dominion treasury which we use for these kinds of things. And with that, our business here is concluded.”

  Pershing extended a hand, and Chris shook it without enthusiasm. Slowly he turned back to his waiting crew. He could feel their gaze on him as he passed by onto the ship. He could almost hear Nick's voice in his head, asking if it was worth the effort, worth the lives of the Hronguards who were killed protecting the ship and its cargo. Chris didn't have an answer for that.

  He stepped onto the bridge where Chen and Proda were busy checking the ship's systems. They didn't look up at him as he entered and instead of assuming his chair, he turned away and headed for his cabin. The dead and wounded had all been removed from the halls, but blood and shell casings remained. H
e locked the door behind him and tossed himself onto the bed, feeling the exhaustion of the day catch up to him.

  Before he fell asleep his mind tortured him with doubt. They were just minor players after all, and Chris' role in all this would likely not even be a footnote in the history books. Its clandestine nature would all but ensure that. Furthermore, he was angry at his own lack of influence, of power, for believing this would be worth something: a welcoming at a large Dominion base, personal assurance from the Dominion princes to safeguard the Goteborg civilians. And yet, the only outcome was enhancing Drayton's bottom line and giving the Dominion more ammunition to throw at Goteborg when they finally came to take it.

  Worst yet, it was his own damn fault for being a pawn in the chess games of far more important players.

  Archduchess Salena Teton-Sten

  Duchess of Danvers, Archduchess of the Magdeborg Commonwealth

  25 February, 23,423

  The Conclave, Magdeborg, Magdeborg Commonwealth

  ______________

  The Conclave building was a squat white marble structure that sat on the edge of the palace grounds. Small corridors linked the building with several outlying structures that served as the diplomatic headquarters of the various houses that owed the Stens their vassalage. Salena had often come here as a child and she rather enjoyed the political wrangling and deal making that went on both openly and behind closed doors. Everyone had agendas and motivations and she found the process of disassembling them to be invigorating. If she could crack an opponent's agenda she could predict their actions. What good was predicting the future if you couldn't control it? It was like watching a film she'd seen a dozen times, she knew what was going to happen, but was powerless to alter it. Not anymore.

  She had a very specific agenda for today. The great lords of all the Stens vassal families had been invited. She had a prepared speech that Cassandra and others had spent days writing and perfecting. Every word served a purpose. It would not be difficult to label the Sørensens as usurpers and traitors. They would not be here to defend themselves and there was plenty of circumstantial evidence to support her admonishment of them. Everything was under control now. She'd win the backing of the other major Conclave families, cementing their support, hopefully even their armies. Damien would not find willing allies here.

  Her procession had arrived late intentionally. The nobles would all be seated in the grand hall, waiting for her arrival. They would get nervous as time ticked by, growing more and more agitated, precisely the way she wanted them to feel. In a way, she could blame her tardiness and their wasted time on the Sørensens as well.

  She stood in the recessed area behind the raised podium reserved for members of House Sten when they addressed the Conclave. Such occasions were frequent when the Conclave was new a thousand years ago but they had quickly subsided and called rarely under Archduke Haakon and never under Archduke Peter. And that will continue into my reign as well. The houses are best controlled by allowing them freedom not by patronizing them, she figured. If they step out of line, crush them into submission. Make an example of one of them early in my reign, most likely one that supports Damien. Perhaps we shall find one today.

  At a wave of her hand her escort began to march. A dozen Teton knights headed by Magnus and her husband, Duke Richard Teton, thundered into the grand hall. They wore plate and chain mail and carried pikes as well as their swords secured in scabbards at the hip. They wore no helms; she wanted the houses to see the faces behind the armor and remember them. Her father, Archduke Haakon VI, had once told her that image was everything. He wore an actual crown, thick blue and gray robes over chain mail and the Sten ancestral sword at his hip. He looked like a duke, so no one ever questioned his purpose. Image kept the houses in line, wanton displays of military power kept them afraid.

  She walked in the middle of the honor guard, protected, but seeming to be in command. She wore a blue dress accented in gold that flowed behind her like water. She kept her expression impassive and businesslike in a look of complete confidence and authority. The knights formed a semi-circle around her by lining the edge of the dais. As one, they pivoted to face the open Conclave then remained still. Not even a single tinkle of armor could be heard in the hall.

  Gently, Salena laid her hands on the podium, a carefully crafted piece of blue marble. The Sten emblem was boldly displayed on its front facing the assembled houses. The sides of the Conclave curved around to form a sort of egg shape so that the muti-tiered assembly could all view the podium. Representatives from each house sat in their booths separated from each other by thick walls. Each houses' heraldry lined the inside of the booth and draped over its railing. The Commonwealth controlled a vast amount of territory and had dozens of other families as vassals. The myriad of colors and emblems fascinated Salena sometimes.

  She took a deep breath and keyed the microphone that would amplify her voice throughout the chamber. “My fellow noblemen and -women, I thank you for attending this day. I apologize for the late start, but we are kept busy by recent events that required our attention and action in order to protect the integrity of the Commonwealth. Many of you may have been surprised to see Teton ships and soldiers arrive at the capital in such numbers, but our surprise and force was necessary to save the Commonwealth from treachery.

  “My brother died six weeks ago. The Sørensens claim he died of natural causes, but we know this is not the case. My brother was murdered in his sleep by none other than a Sørensen agent. How else could a murderer have slipped through the palace without help? Who else had such access? The very people tasked with protecting my family from harm turned on us for their own self aggrandizement.”

  She held up a large pile of synthpaper documents and dropped them on the podium so the mic caught the sound like a judge slamming a gavel.

  “I have here, proof of the Sørensen plot! Documents signed by the Sørensen leadership placing key and trusted members in critical areas of the palace on the night of Archduke Peter's death. Their changes in guards allowed for an assassin to slip in, murder my brother and escape. The Sørensens tried to bury him quickly to cover up their bloody attempt at a coup, but they could not fool me.

  “The Sørensens declared a time of mourning, ostensibly to select his replacement because my brother had no named heirs. They took their time, forging a false story of conducting research into my family. In reality, this was all a ruse as Dietrich and Thaddeus Sørensen manipulated Lord Damien Sten and I and maneuvered their family to take the throne for themselves!

  “Dietrich Sørensen met with me and Damien at Remington two weeks ago. It was there he told us this false story and announcing that the throne would go to Dietrich and later to his son, Odin who remains in active rebellion against me today. As Damien has no children and I am married into another house, they declared the Sten line dead. I will assure you now, my fellow nobles, the Sten family is not dead.”

  She paused a moment as her voice echoed through the chamber. She watched the expressions of those houses nearest her. The Masons and the Graysons were two of the oldest families that owed their vassalage to the Stens and therefore sat closest to the podium. They were also the most powerful and the lesser houses would look to their reaction for guidance. Through most of the event, they had remained passive, almost disinterested in the too familiar displays of power and authority from the Sten sovereigns in the Conclave. Now, however, they were exchanging looks and shifting nervously. Accusations of coups by the leading retainer family was not something they had seen before.

  “This Sørensen plot was well executed and nearly successful were it not for the sharp eyes and intense investigations of the Tetons. Sadly, Lord Damien could not penetrate the web of lies the Sørensens had sewn. His attention is fixated on the border, where he was unable to assist us. We discovered the true nature of their actions and we organized a counter-offensive as quickly as we could. My son boldly led his forces into the heart of the beast and killed the traitor Thaddeus. Diet
rich is now in our custody and will be tried for treason and murder.

  “We wish only that we could have called upon our allies for your assistance in the removal of the Sørensen enemy. However, so swift was their plan that we could not afford to spend the time negotiating. Nor even could we call on my uncle, Conrad, and his knights for assistance.”

  She paused again, watching for reactions. The major houses were stirring, beginning to understand the extent of the Sørensen plot. Of course Conrad wouldn't have responded to any calls for help even if they had been sent. His refusal to become involved at all was beginning to frustrate her, but she kept those emotions carefully hidden. Conrad remained in his mountain fief and did not bother to respond to her demand to attend the Conclave gathering either. With any luck, he would ignore any attempts by the other noble houses to contact him.

  “We call on you now, when the immediate danger has passed, to reaffirm your ties to House Sten. The Sørensens are still out there, organizing and coordinating an underground movement to continue their agenda. We require your help in eliminating the last of this cancer from Magdeborg. We call upon our vassals to provide the necessary equipment and manpower to protect the state from these traitors. Your honored help and assistance will not go unnoticed nor unrewarded. Together, we can make the Commonwealth whole again, we can protect her, strengthen her, and return her to the forefront of the Great States of the Core! By Amrah's will, we shall flourish and triumph once more! May we all walk the Path together.”

  She gave the Conclave one last concentrated look over then turned from the podium. The knights on either side clanked into position and led her back through the corridor. The Conclave house leaders were left to look at one another until the last of the knights were safely out of earshot then they exploded in discussion. Some cursed the Sørensens for their treachery, others blamed Salena for launching a coup, all of them declaring their views were supported by Amrah, the Azuren, and any other authority figure they could name. It wasn't long before they threatened violence upon each other. Slowly, carefully placed allies whispered in the right ear, made the right deals and bribed and threatened until their views began to be accepted.