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

by Brian Frederico

  Finally, Alos finished his sermon and gently returned the holy book back into his robes. The Azuren priests and warriors turned and marched to different spots throughout the ship. Again, they started their chanting.

  Alos waved Magnus and Kendra forward. Magnus stepped quickly in military fashion, apparently regaining his composure. The movements had probably been drilled into him during the rehearsals and stuck just as had his military training. Kendra moved lightly, almost gliding to the center of the dais. Alos instructed them to take hands them turned to address Salena.

  “Lady Salena, do you approve of the marriage of your representative to that of House Mason?”

  “I do so,” she said.

  He turned to the Masons to ask the same question. They nodded approvingly.

  Alos clasped their hands together and raised above their heads. “Then I declare you, in the name of Amrah, bound in eternal union.”

  The mission commander gave the signal, a bright red throbbing in LK's helmet, and the resulting applause nearly drowned out the sounds of gunfire.

  The cheer quickly turned to panic and people began to run. The insertion team slid down from their perches in the Arkship and moved like ghosts, their faint outlines only briefly visible as they moved through the benches, the armor doing a superb job of mimicking its surroundings. Fleeing nobles were occasionally colliding with the team, tumbling, stunned to the ground. Gradually people began to figure out there were invisible assailants among them, which, in turn, triggered another wave of panic.

  The mission commander signaled weapons free, allowing his troopers to engage their assassination targets. Although the suits could silence weapons fire, the commander ordered silencers off. The noise added to the confusion, hence furthering their ends. Their fire was accurate and murderous, taking down security agents who raised weapons against them, avoiding the unarmed nobles for the most part. An unlucky few had stepped into the crossfire, not realizing where the resistance troopers were.

  LK noticed the Teton-Sten bodyguard splitting up their charges, taking them to preassigned exits. LK had to give them credit, they'd reacted very quickly upon the first few shots. Their strategies were forcing the insertion team to split its limited forces. The Mason guards were doing the same and LK headed in their direction, splitting from the rest of the team. Alos and his Azuren companions were no where in sight, which bothered LK to the point of nearly making him sick.

  The suits were nearly impervious to human weapons, but the Azuren might be able to take them down, armed or unarmed. LK preferred not to test the suit's anti-Azuren capabilities, or lack thereof. Dimly he was aware of other team members claiming to have eliminated their targets, some Azuren, some Teton-Sten.

  The front of the Arkship cleared out fairly quickly. A few guards stayed behind to cover the retreat of the monarchs and nobles. It was valiant, but futile. They were cut down quickly. One of them noticed the spatial distortion caused by LK's suit and opened fire on him. Although LK's suit canceled out the noise of the gunfire, he felt the slug strike the suit and his head's up display notified him of the shooting. LK turned and mowed down the shooter with his arm-mounted automatic weapon.

  The shooting drew the attention of other guards and LK took his time, carefully bringing them down one by one with the automatic. He refrained from using the laser, not wishing to damage the Arkship, not because it was an Azuren holy place, but because he knew its past was human. It was valuable to them as well.

  He dropped the guards as quickly as possible and followed the survivors out a rear exit. In the back alleys of the Arkship, cars were waiting. The lead ones were trying to surge forward, but the panicked crowds choked the streets. LK surveyed the convoy quickly, though its occupants and protectors hadn't noticed his arrival.

  Nearby, Lady Mason was arguing with several bodyguards. She was pointing to another car that contained the fat outline of the Duke. She wanted to leave with him, rather than be stuffed in the back of another car. Duke Frederick himself did not seem concerned. He was yelling at the driver to go. Lady Mason's defiance and her loyalty to her twisted husband would be the death of her.

  With a detached calm, LK lined up the automatic and mowed down the group with a long burst. The shooting drew the attention of other bodyguards, but he didn't bother to aim this time. He used the suit's laser to cut through flesh and metal like a hot knife through butter.

  From the rear car, a woman in a purple dress emerged and hurried to Lady Mason's bloody body. Kendra Mason, LK realized, a Commonwealth duchess now. So pretty.

  The girl shoved other broken bodies aside, checking her mother for a pulse. LK's armor allowed him to approach without her notice. He watched the girl, tears streaming down her face. Other security personal arrived, hunting him, but resistance members still on the hull had tracked his suit and shot them down before they could engage him. The car near him caught fire, its fuel line rupturing. His suit registered the change in temperature and tagged it as a minor hazard.

  Several cars forward, a final figure appeared, heavy and slow, but also calculating. Duke Frederick Mason carried a pistol in one hand, dwarfed by its immense size. He realized there was something out here that was shredding his security team and had just eliminated his wife. He saw his daughter and shouted for her to come away, to join him in the vehicle so they could leave. There was nothing she could do for her mother now. The words were lost as the suit canceled out their voices.

  Kendra shouted something back and refused to move. The Duke stamped his heavy foot, demanding her compliance. She ignored him.

  LK stepped forward as Mason began to lumber towards her. He waited until the Duke was just a few steps away before grabbing the princess with one clawed hand and lifting her from the ground. He kept his gaze squarely on the older Mason. Kendra struggled, but had no chance of breaking the suit's grip. With his other hand, he punched an armored fist through her skull, then tossed the headless body aside like a wet rag.

  He almost felt sorry for her. She'd done nothing to him, but his family had done nothing to harm the Masons either. She was a tool to his end.

  The Duke's eyes bulged from his head and he realized the invisible killer just ended the lives of his family. He wore an expression quite similar to the one LK had probably worn when Mason executed his family in a similar fashion.

  Slowly, deliberately, LK popped the latches on the helmet and tossed it away. The breaking of the seal caused the mimetic armor to fail and it now appeared in a swirling vortex of gray mist. Like a ghost haunting its prey, the Legend Killer turned to Duke Mason.

  It took a few moments, but recognition slowly dawned on the Duke's face.

  “You,” he sneered, his expression changing from one of fear to one of hate.

  “Ah, you remember. Yes, you remember me very well.”

  Maybe out of fear or maybe out of desperation, the Duke apparently decided he had the skills to use a handgun. The weapon caught in the rolls of his fat and his fingers were far too thick to fit around the trigger. Although he managed to get off two shots, and even hit the suit, the rounds ricocheted off, causing no damage. Mason might as well had been throwing raisins.

  “Drown in Ithix you bastard,” LK said with alarming coldness. He had shifted his suit's fist, still wet with Kendra's blood and brains, into a blade and in a heartbeat, closed the distance between him and the Duke. He hoped he might scream, but the Duke was silent, too stunned to utter a word. With a brutal efficiency that would later shock even LK, he began to carve the fat murderer like a holiday ham.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Brian is a history and political science teacher and writes science fiction in his spare time. He currently lives in Evanston, Illinois. This is his first novel. He can be reached at brian.frederico@gmail.com. He is already at work on Schism's sequel. Follow the progress at www.thestarfieldtheory.blogspot.com.

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