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

by Brian Frederico

  “I already did,” he shot back. “This is what we were born for.”

  “Maybe what you were born for. But how's that worked out for you so far?” She asked, her eyes searching his and already knowing the answer.

  She shook her head and released her grip. She looked Chris over one last time then quietly walked out of the tent. Nick followed quickly at Dietrich's gesture.

  “Then it is done,” Dietrich said. “This is the Path Amrah has chosen for you, but it will be your Path to walk. We should be gone from here as soon as possible to plan our next course of action. Come, my son, let's get you ready.”

  Lord Damien Sten

  Duke of Hidelborg, Defender of the Border, The Gray Knight

  31 March, 23,423

  Verland, Goteborg, Magdeborg Commonwealth

  ______________

  Once outside, Damien pulled the heavy coat tighter around himself. The fire he kept continuously in his quarters kept him warm and provided a necessary distraction. He felt alone and cold without it, lacking direction and focus. The brief, awkward meeting had been enough for him to gauge the twins personalities. Years of dealing with people in combat and in politics left him capable of summing of an individual's character after just a few seconds.

  And he came to a simple and acceptable conclusion.

  The boy was cowed and the girl was arrogant. Dietrich was a fool to even consider placing either of them on the throne. The only claim they had was blood. No experience, no talent, no cult of personality. Even in a feudal society, such a weak claim only carried so much weight. The real power rested in those who knew what they were doing and those who didn't served only to be manipulated.

  His head swam suddenly, realizing that his goal was so close, almost within his grasp. Momentarily disoriented, he didn't see the woman appear next to him and fall into step.

  “Thoughts?” Reyna asked.

  When Damien's head cleared, he said, “The twins are not going to be a problem. They are weak and lost children. They will pose no threat. Magdeborg will be mine.”

  “Don't lose sight of your goal, Damien,” Reyna admonished him. “The throne is only a stepping stone. The Azuren are our real target.”

  “I know!” he snapped then took a deep breath. “The Azuren are going to be riled up after the funeral. They'll be barking at Salena's heels to get the situation under control.”

  “Magnus Teton-Sten is leading forays into the countryside trying to round up the last Sørensens,” Reyna said.

  “Salena let him out, eh? Bold of her. He'll have something to prove. He might make a mistake.”

  “Well he'll have more to prove.”

  Damien arched an eyebrow at her.

  “Salena pushed up the marriage date between him and Kendra Mason.”

  Damien muttered under his breath. “I don't need Harding Corporation technology in the field. Is there anything we can do about it?”

  Reyna shook her head. “I lost contact with the Theorist sect on Magdeborg. They were called the Weathermen but they can't help now. I don't know why they went silent.”

  “Did you hear anything about Anna and–“ he paused, not willing to reveal Rebecca just yet. Not even to Reyna.

  “No. Nothing. I'm sorry, Damien,” she said, touching his arm affectionately.

  He took another deep breath. “Fine. We'll have to let that situation play out. I need more men, more destriers, more time more...more everything.”

  “We can do this, Damien. With Conrad here, we have a core to build around and the border houses are still yours. We might lose Goteborg, but the resistance here will harass Pershing and he'll need a long time to consolidate his gains, maybe enough to let us refocus our attention. Aaron did a good job here.”

  Damien nodded. “He did. Perhaps I did not credit him enough. Why is he pissed at you anyway?” He asked abruptly. Normally he wouldn't bother, but he was tired of his own problems and relishing in those of someone else might bring him some relief.

  Reyna's face darkened. “I saved his life.”

  “The Vertoxx?”

  “Pershing was going to hit the compound sooner or later so I helped lead him away and made him think it was his own decision.”

  “It almost got Kristoffer killed. Do you know–“

  “I knew the risks,” she shot back. “I didn't expect him to charge into the field. He should have cowered away somewhere safe.”

  “Permi–“

  “Is wrong sometimes. I miscalculated him. We ought to stop using it.”

  “That doesn't happen often. What about accepting Dietrich's offer, waging a war to take his throne? Did you anticipate that?”

  “One hundred per cent likely,” she said. “Claire acted as his moral compass before, but not this time. There is a divide between them now. Chris wants power. Claire wants independence. Jiggle both in front of them respectively and you should be able to control them.”

  Damien nodded. “We need to retreat to Hidelborg as soon as possible. Give Pershing a few parting shots to make him think we intend to stay then get out.”

  “Should we inform Brother Samuel?”

  “Not yet,” Damien snapped. “Wait until we get to Hidelborg. I'd prefer to surprise the Administration.”

  “They won't like that. They don't like being surprised,” Reyna warned him. “You're on pretty thin ice with them as it is. They have concerns-”

  Damien waved off her concern. “Let them have their concerns. In the meantime, I have one more obstacle,” he said, walking off into the camp.

  “What's that?”

  “Explaining to Aaron why all those killed here died in vain.”

  Lady Claire Sten

  Pretender to the Throne of Magdeborg

  1 April, 23,423

  Goteborg Spaceport, Goteborg, Magdeborg Commonwealth

  ______________

  Claire shivered in the chill and edged a bit closer to the spaceport and its warmth. Dawn was approaching and the sky was just beginning to light against the horizon. She didn't know what else to do and came here because it seemed close enough to escape, but not too far to prevent her from returning to the camp if she wanted.

  She kicked at the dirt path, sending pebbles scattering. A few military convoys of trucks and armored vehicles roared past to the starport. Curious soldiers craned their necks to look at her. Sometimes her eyes would lock with one or two as they flashed by. They looked tired, confused and many more looked desperate. The spaceport was their evacuation point to destinations unknown. They were mostly militia bearing House Evers' insignia and they carried only their packs, uniforms and weapons. They had no personal effects and they would be leaving their homes forever.

  She couldn't even imagine losing everything she had, going off into the unknown. Was she was desperate as they were to save her own skin at the cost of everything she knew?

  It didn't take long for civilian vehicles to start appearing as well. Word of the evacuation would start spreading and the trickle of panicked people would become a flood. What would they do then? Would Damien abandon them to the Dominion? The Lord General seemed too pragmatic and uncaring to waste resources of those who couldn't fight.

  And what about her? Just because she was the daughter of a dead Archduke she got a free pass? It's not fair. I don't want titles or fame or any of that nonsense.

  A civilian truck slowly pulled up next to her. It was fairly beat up, hardly more than a rusty shell covering an engine. The passenger window clunked down. She peered in cautiously, then, satisfied, she climbed inside dropping her pack at her feet.

  “It's nearly freezing out there,” Alexander said. “Why didn't you grab a coat.”

  “I don't exactly want to walk around in an Evers' military coat,” she said.

  Alexander shrugged. “Your choice I guess. What's wrong?”

  Claire rubbed life back into her hands and held them up to the truck's heat vents. She'd been wondering how to explain this to him. How much could she reveal? Could sh
e lie? Would he notice? Or would being truthful be the best path?

  She decided to lie. Not like he'd believe the truth anyway. She barely even did.

  “I need a ride out of here. I heard Lord Damien is evacuating the army and leaving Goteborg to Pershing. I want to be away from them. Forever.”

  “I know. I saw the medical quarters getting packed up and shipped out. I tried to find you, but you weren't there.”

  “I'm not going with the army,” she admitted. Another convoy of soldiers and equipment rumbled by. Alexander watched it go then turned his attention back to Claire.

  “Why?”

  “This isn't for me. I'm not a doctor and I can't try to put together any more broken bodies.”

  “I understand.”

  “Surely you're not going with them? You're not even supposed to be here.”

  Alexander took a breath. “I don't know if you've noticed, but there aren't a whole lot of ways off Goteborg right now. Unless you know some very rich people with their own ship you don't have a ton of options.”

  The ground began to rumble again and Claire turned to look for another convoy. The road was empty. Alexander pointed ahead to the spaceport.

  One of Lord Damien's drop ships was lifting off. It was ovoid in shape and had painted on its side a massive Sten family crest. My family.

  Gas and flame spewed from its engines and the gangways and super structure fell away allowing it room to move. Slowly, like a giant behemoth waking from slumber, the ship started to fight gravity. It slowly picked up speed as it roared into the fading night. In a minute it was nothing more than another pin of light in sh sky.

  Quiet returned to the starport again.

  “It won't be long now, Alexander said, “before they have no more ships.”

  Claire sighed. Alexander seemed distant, more melancholy than he was before. Had the battle broken him?

  “What's your plan, Claire? Where did you want to go?”

  “I had a crew for a while. We explored the Precursor ruins, documented artifacts and so on. We were on Garant Point in the Fringe on a big find. I mean totally untouched in thousands of years. There was an accident. Half our crew was killed in a collapse including our leader. So we left, split up and went on our ways. I want to try to get them together again.”

  “You explored ruins, huh?”

  She nodded.

  “I thought you might have.”

  Claire narrowed her brow, her hand finding the door latch as a bolt of fear ran through her.

  “How?”

  “I know who you are, Claire. I came here specifically to find you.”

  “Find me?” She asked. “Why?”

  Her hand was firmly on the door latch. If he moved even an inch, she would bolt. She wasn't sure how far she'd get before his truck ran her down, but at least she could try.

  “You're Claire Sten. The daughter of Archduke Peter and you are a Starfield Theorist. Well, you were in the process of training to be one.”

  “Who are you?” She asked, feeling her voice begin to tremble.

  “I am exactly who I told you I was earlier. I am Alexander Corwin. What I didn't tell you was that I, too, am a Starfield Theorist, part of the sect on Hidelborg.”

  “Praxis or Pedant?”

  “Both actually. Though more Praxis lately,” he said pensively.

  Claire scratched at the thin fabric of the car seat, weighing his words. He's not lying. He knows who I am.

  “We were asked to bring you to Hidelborg to keep you safe. Sir Aaron put you in danger here and Lord Damien is interested in utilizing you for his own objectives,” Alexander explained. “That was unacceptable to the Administration.”

  “Lord Damien. He's one of you?”

  Alexander nodded. “Yes. He is a Theorist, but an unruly one. Because of his status as Commonwealth royalty, there are times he does not see a need to follow the same rules as the rest of us. His behavior has become concerning. In order to balance his power, we need to take something from him to keep him in line.”

  “So I'm a commodity. A chess piece to be traded,” Claire said, echoing Kristoffer's words after Lord Pershing's rejection.

  “No. You are a human being and deserve to be treated as such.”

  “Well I'm sorry to say, Alexander. You grabbed the wrong twin. My brother is the one who wants to play those power games. He's the one who is going to be Archduke.”

  Another huge ovoid ship lifted off and burned its way through the atmosphere leaving a tail of smoke behind it.

  “I figured as much. You weren't like him though. You're more practical, worldly. You have the mind of a Theorist, a real thinker. That's why we want you. You happen to be Commonwealth royalty, whether you like it or not. It changes things.”

  “That's important?”

  “You're not the first Sten to be a Theorist. The Sten family's history is deeply entwined with our own, but we are not one and the same. Look at their insignia. Could you have a more accurate representation of Praxis and Pedant with the sword and book?”

  Claire took a breath. The sun was peering over the horizon now, the last stars were vanishing before its fire. It was a new day, cold and young, but it offered new opportunity.

  “So what happens now?”

  Alexander sniffed. “I can get you off Goteborg and to the Theorist sect on Hidelborg. What happens to you after is entirely up to you.”

  “I want to be a Theorist.”

  “It is not an easy life. It's dangerous to oppose the Azuren. At any moment we could be found and executed-”

  “I saw what happened to the Theorist on Garda Station.”

  “Darren. Yes. He was a good friend and a good fighter, but they found him anyway. The Azuren represent all that is wrong and destructive in our world. Their obsession for order and control in pursuit of their religion is terrifying. Backed by real power it can and will be fatal to the human race. We must destroy the Azuren, every one of them, every piece of their culture, their religion, their race.”

  “Genocide?”

  “No. It's more complicated than that. Will you come with us to learn?”

  Claire looked out the window at the soldiers bustling about, loading the ships and frantically trying to find a seat off world. Tanks, destriers and weapons were tossed almost haphazardly into the ships. It was as if they expected another Vertoxx attack at any moment. They feared Pershing and his weapons and she didn't doubt he would launch a gas attack on the starport if he could. Maybe Alexander was keeping an eye on the sky for just such an event.

  She needed to get away from Goteborg, from her brother and from the nobles who played games with people's lives. The Starfield Theorists opposed all that, the desperate power plays, the endless wars over titles and fiefs and they especially hated the Azuren and their grip over humanity's destiny. The Theorists would light the way for mankind. That's what they'd always claimed. Destroy the Azuren, reclaim humanity's destiny and so on. Was it real though?

  Her team that explored the ruins were all Pedants, more concerned with humanity's past than with its future. The Praxis were the ones who sought to end the Azuren domination. Could it actually be done? Could they destroy the Azuren?

  Should they?

  “I'll go to learn. I need to know,” she decided.

  Alexander nodded his understanding and shifted the truck into gear. Slowly they rumbled down the road and into the starport. The guards had long stopped checking papers and orders and let them go without a second thought. He maneuvered around the destriers, tanks and ships with practiced ease.

  He stopped the truck by an isolated ship in the far corner of the space port. Several men and women were waiting outside.

  “You were going to come with us one way or the other, but I'm glad you decided to do so voluntarily. It's easier that way,” Alexander said simply.

  Before Claire could interpret his words, the passenger door swung open and rough hands grabbed her and pulled her into the ship. She wrestled with them, swun
g wildly but they were strong. Another one of Lord Damien's ships blasted off, drowning out her screams as its occupants fled to safety.

  Archduke Kristoffer Sten

  Archduke of the Magdeborg Commonwealth

  1 April 23,423

  Verland, Goteborg, Magdeborg Commonwealth

  ______________

  “So what happens to us now?” Chris asked, rubbing at his palms and watching the sky morph from navy blue to pink as if Goteborg's very sky were turned to fire in the aftermath of the fighting. He realized he hadn't slept, but, strangely, he didn't feel tired.

  “We do as Lord Damien says. He keeps us alive so we give him our loyalty for now,” Nick replied.

  “And that's all we do?”

  “We don't have a choice. My grandfather is a good man, he won't let Damien hurt us.”

  They walked through the camp slowly. Soldiers stirred and were getting their breakfasts ready. Smoke from campfires drifted over the tents. No one paid him any attention. His fame as the hero of Verland had already begun to fade as had his SESE tattoos from lack of use. Sir Aaron hadn't let him near any military equipment since his adventure. Word of his appointment as Archduke of the Commonwealth had not yet spread.

  Nick seemed to notice. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

  “What?”

  “Anonymity. Once word gets out everything will change for you and Claire. It won't be fun,” he said with sincerity.

  They reached the edge of the camp. They were just a few kilometers from the Verland command center. The Vertoxx had settled and it lay like snow on the cold ground. The command center itself was ruined beyond use. The Vertoxx had melted it away like an artist carving clay in a random fashion. Wrecked vehicles and dead bodies still littered the field.

  “It's my fault,” he whispered.

  “What?”

  “At the command center the night before the attack. Sir Aaron told me he knew I took Pershing home. He took me to Goteborg rather than keep me safe on his command ship when the Dominion came because he wanted me to watch Pershing destroy my homeworld the way he destroyed Aaron's. Well he got his wish.”