Schism of Blood and Stone (The Starfield Theory Book 1) (16 page)

His breath caught in his throat. It
was
the throne room at Magdeborg and Salena was indeed there. Her cape was cinched with the Ducal crest, and the insignia she wore on her shoulders bore that of Senior General, the rank reserved for the Archduke.
Or Archduchess it would appear.

When she spoke, her words were clipped and precise to ensure no wasted effort. “I have uncovered a plot by the Sørensens to replace a legitimate Sten sovereign with a fake. Those children Dietrich tried to pass off as kin are not Stens, they have no royal blood, no right. Urgent action had to be taken. When the Sørensens refused to confess to their crimes, I ordered their removal from Magdeborg and revoked their positions as royal retainers. My troops have swept their armies from the field and secured the Magdeborg throne for the Stens as it should be.

“You are hereby ordered to cease all activities on the border and return to Magdeborg for the funeral of our brother and my own coronation. As one of my first acts as Archduchess, I will end the war with the Dominion. Peace will once again return to the Commonwealth.”

The camera zoomed in a bit closer, as if she were confiding in Damien a great secret. Her appearance softened, if that was possible. “We must mind our family now, Damien. Our brother is dead and I ask you to deliver his eulogy and declare your support for me. We must be united in this and we owe it to Peter to mourn his loss as good siblings and royals would. You would not deny him that honor. We will speak again on Magdeborg.”

The image snapped to black then was replaced by the ducal crest before that, too, faded away. Damien blinked once and stared at the screen. His mind raced through possible actions, drawing on every contingency plan he’d conceived. However, this situation was unique in that it was one he hadn't quite prepared for.
Salena capable of a military coup? She could not possibly have had enough force to overcome House Sørensen and take Magdeborg for herself.

She had outmaneuvered him politically and militarily. While he took the indirect approach, she'd gone right for the throat with more naked aggression than he thought possible.
Perhaps I have underestimated her.

Reyna cleared her throat reminding him that she was still there.

“It's legitimate,” Reyna said quietly. “The codes are checking out against our logs.”

“So she's done it. She took the throne by force and she intends to keep it. Nothing in the Permi Equation could have predicted this outcome. No equation is so accurate,” he said referring to one of the Theorists' most carefully guarded secrets, an equation they believed could predict the future. Each variable represented an aspect of an individual's personality. When the correct values were inserted Theorists could reasonably determine their actions. Sometimes it was wrong.

“There must have been other factors, my lord,” Reyna said. “They had to have had help.”

Damien mused idly. “Who else is sleeping in Salena's bed?”

“The Masons will be soon when Magnus marries Kendra. That will solidify her control of the throne, but I don't know if the Sørensens are capable of an actual coup,” Reyna said.

“I don't believe it. There are many times Dietrich Sørensen or his predecessors could have taken power during moments of Sten weakness, when my grandmother died in battle or when my father disappeared.”

“But with Peter dying without an heir, you on the border and Salena married off to another noble family. What time could be better?” Reyna asked. “Could she be right?”

“About Kristoffer?”

“Could Dietrich have lied? Maybe he is a nobody.”

“We just saw his ship. He is very real, but whether he is who Dietrich claimed is another thing.” Damien stroked his goatee. “We shall get to the bottom of this.”

“What do we do?” Reyna asked as Damien stood up from his chair to feed the fire burning nearby.

“There is nothing we can do yet. Tell Aaron to return to his ship. You two will be responsible for locating the children, both of them, and protecting Goteborg if the Dominion uses this time to attack.”

“Where are you going?” Reyna asked sharply.

Damien stopped, and sighed heavily. “I am going to Magdeborg, as the Archduchess requested to attend to family matters. To do otherwise would be unseemly.”

Reyna gently put a hand on his right shoulder and rested her head on his left. “It'd not fair what your father did to you. You were the eldest, the throne should have been yours. Then Peter banished you to the border, hoping you'd die at the hands of the Dominion. Now Salena...”

Damien clenched his fists and his jaw.

“They mistreat you,” she whispered. “You have done nothing, but serve them and they have done nothing but plot against you.”

Damien said nothing, but felt his mind wheel in confusion as if he'd drank too much.

“Come on,” she said, pulling towards his bed.

He allowed himself to be taken a few steps then stopped as the fire snapped. His mind cleared. Images of another woman popped into his mind, one lost and abandoned long ago.

“No. It isn't right, Reyna,” he grunted as his feet and heart found traction.

“My lord,” she said, appearing hurt. “Only to help you.”

“No more,” he said, wrenching his arm free and finding steady steps to his desk. “Go on. Do your duty.”

He refused to look at her as she hesitated just a moment, then slowly made her way out of his chambers.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The fire burned and he took strength and comfort in its warmth. He opened Salena's message again and watched it in vain for hours, playing it slowly, then backwards, hunting for clues, any other variables to add to the Theory's Permi equation intended to reveal the future.

After searching for hours, he could find nothing. It looked like Salena had won.

Kristoffer

Captain of the
MacCleod

MacCleod
, Mkuranga, Caeph Dominion

______________

“It worked. Fascinating,” Chris said as the
MacCleod
reappeared in the Mkuranga system now officially in Caeph Dominion space.
They were safely on the edge of the last planet’s orbit, far from the star’s zenith and nadir jump stations and, most importantly, out of view of the Azuren and Dominion. There were unlikely to be any patrols this far out in the system.

Proda, the ship's communications officer, frowned and turned to look at Chris. “Before we left Goteborg we had several pings hit the ship. Someone was taking an interest in us.”

Chris waved his hand dismissively.

“I doubt it. They're probably just residual echoes during the jump. Ship based jump systems can play havoc with the sensors,” Kerali said.

Nick shook his head and whispered as if afraid of being overheard. “I don’t like this. If the Azuren catch us out here, we have no explanation as to why we suddenly appeared in the periphery of a system in the middle of a war zone. They’ll have no record of us ever entering the system at their station or leaving Goteborg. Once they find the jump drive and the mask…”

“They won’t. If they see us, we’ll jump out again,” Chris said.

“Once the drives recharge. We’ll be sitting ducks for several hours at least,” Kerali reminded him.

“The Azuren could be out here,” Nick pointed out.

“We're in a war zone now. They’re not going to have patrols because they don’t want to get caught in a firefight between two interstellar states. There’s a possibility that there are still Commonwealth forces in the region,” Chris said.

“Oh good, then we can be boarded by one of them,” Nick grumbled.

“Then we use the back stories Drayton provided us,” Chris snapped back, feeling his patience with his solicitous first officer start to run low.

Nick remained silent, but unconvinced. Granted, the excuses Drayton gave him weren’t immensely elaborate, but he assured Chris and his crew that they would work. If the Dominion boarded his vessel he’d deliver the prisoners as per the initial agreement. He just wasn’t guaranteed payment; it depended on to what authority those forces reported. Drayton labeled that the second least preferable outcome. He’d invested a lot in the black market technology installed on the
MacCleod
and not getting a return on it was not good for business.

The least preferable outcome was an Azuren boarding party. Trafficking human cargo, possession of an illegal jump drive and possession of an illegal jump mask would probably get the entire crew executed. Chris could see Ojressi placing the Death Ring around his head and asking for his last words. He wondered if he could hold his composure the way the Starfield Theorist had just before he died.

Probably not.
He shook the image away.

Chris pushed himself out of the worn chair and headed off the tiny bridge. If it was going to be a while, he had family matters to attend to.

“Where are you going?” Nick called after him.

“To see my sister,” Chris said. “Watch the bridge.”

Two of the Hronguard soldiers on guard duty glanced at him as he passed by. He wasn't entirely sure how to treat his unwelcome security force. Even now they seemed like more of an admission of guilt than proper protection. If he wasn't carrying anything illegal then why was the ship so heavily armed? Maybe Drayton was more worried about the Dominion soldiers attempting a coup than he was about them being found out. He made a note to check on them later, partly to be a good host and to double check that they were still secured in the storage bays.

Like the bridge the interior of the vessel was cramped and dark. The corridor ran from the bridge through the communications and sensor suite and into the living quarters. Claire had been assigned to the quarters of the ship's former medical officer, Lal. His possessions had been moved into a storage bay as Lal had not offered any next-of-kin to contact. Chris wasn't sure if he even had any being a refugee of the fighting on Dashmar in Unclaimed Space between the human settled worlds and those of the Azuren. Claire had settled in without any complaints regarding the occupation of a dead man's quarters and she'd been busy moving her books in from the same storage bay as Lal's possessions.

Chris knocked on her door and waited for her muffled reply. The door opened and he poked his head in. The tiny space seemed even more so with books stacked into neat piles or scattered across any open surface awaiting attention like tired soldiers. The small table and computer station were littered with papers and books and a model of a solar system Chris couldn't identify. She sat on the small bed that hinged out from the wall as she organized papers into piles there.

“How's your face?” She asked.

Chris rubbed at the spot where Sir Slader had slugged him. Claire repaired a lot of the damage to his teeth easily but even the bruising and swelling had virtually vanished.

“Feels a lot better,” he said. “I can hardly feel it.”

Claire inspected it. “That was fast. I thought you'd be hurting for weeks. That was a vicious hit.”

“I'm trying to forget about it. You seem to have settled in,” Chris said eying the books questioningly.

“A bit, I need more space though,” she said as she continued to sort through a series of papers as unkempt as her hair and uniform. It was a few sizes too big for her, but there was no time to have it fitted. She had the sleeves rolled up, but the pants seemed to cover her feet.

“You could use the extra space in the medical bay,” Chris offered.

“I suppose. It's already pretty full though. Your former medical officer was lucky to have such modern equipment and quite a selection of medications. A ships' crew usually doesn't need the sort of powerful drugs you have on board and judging by the quantity left over, you either all get badly hurt on a regular basis or he was probably hooked on a few of the more potent pain killers. He wasn't that bright to begin with so I'd guess the later,” she chuckled.

Chris frowned. No one really like Lal. He was argumentative, arrogant and certainly drank too much, but he was a former crew mate. Stuck on a ship for weeks in space at a time could create some interesting personality clashes and there wasn't anywhere to retreat to to avoid someone. The smartest crewmen learned to tolerate the medical officer in particular. The reality that Lal was helping himself to the ship's drugs wasn't exactly surprising, but Claire probably wasn't going to repeat his mistakes.

“Have you ever thought about making all this stuff electronic?” He asked.

“Sure, but there's always hackers or others who can break in and steal this sort of stuff. It's a lot easier to do it that way. No one ever hacked a book from a solar system away,” she said.

Chris picked up a more massive tome with a peculiar insignia carved into the leather of the cover. Claire eyed him as he handled it. “'Alternatives to the Faith and Explanations for Human Development and the Precursor Races,'” Chris read. “That's heavy stuff.”

Claire nodded.

“Dangerous stuff,” Chris added. “Illegal. You know the Azuren could kill you for even knowing it existed.”

Claire put her papers down. “Of course. It's a Black Book, the kind of the Azuren don't want their blind followers reading. It doesn't follow the Path, therefore it's 'dangerous' or 'writings of vagabonds and other deviants,'” she sniffed with practiced derision.

“Is this the kind of stuff you've been reading for the last several years?” Chris cracked the book slowly and peered in as if its contents could sear his eyes.

She nodded. “That one is really just an introduction to the Starfield Theory itself without its various subtheories and hypothesis.”

“It's blasphemous,” Chris said though his voice lacked the same sort of vigor as Legate Ojressi. He snapped the book shut with a resounding
thud
.

“There's nothing dangerous about it,” Claire said, her face screwed up in annoyance. “It's synthpaper and ink and it just sits there not hurting anyone.”

“It's the ideas that are dangerous.”

She picked up a book and waved it at his face. “Uh oh, Chris, look out! It's the dangerous idea book coming to get you!”

Chris rolled his eyes and made to go.

“Have you ever seen the Precursor ruins, Chris?”

The question stopped him cold. “I've seen the pictures and the movies,” he admitted.

“That doesn't count. They're are incredible. Huge structures, whole cities, some even under ground or built into mountain passes. The builders were so technologically advanced it blows away even our most amazing jump stations and fortresses. And we've only barely scratched the surface.”

“The Amrahn Precursors were great builders. We know that.”

Claire took an exasperated breath. “There were no Amrahn Precursors, Chris. The Azuren claim their predecessor Amrahn civilization was of the same physique and build, even taller in some cases. The average Azuren is still ten centimeters taller than the average human, but these cities are not build for beings of that size. They're built for humans because they were built
by
humans.”

“
You've seen the ruins then. For yourself?” Chris asked hesitantly, suddenly afraid where the conversation was headed.

“Of course. My whole team of Starfield Theorists has been exploring some of the hidden ruins around the Fringe where they are still protected from the Azuren. We've uncovered whole cities that go back thousands of years and every bit of evidence suggests the same thing: There was no Amrahn civilization. The Precursors were all human before the Azuren destroyed them and took over.”

Chris held up his hands. “Wait a minute. Your team? You've been with those Theorists that whole time? I thought you were a tour guide?” He could feel his face flush and he was sure his spacer tattoos were glowing fiercely. They seemed to burn his own skin in their heat.

Her brow narrowed not impressed with the display. “A tour guide?”

Chris felt his world start to spin. “They're dangerous people, Claire. Vagabonds! They bombed an Azuren convoy in Goteborg, you saw what happened!”

“I saw an Azuren legate murder an innocent man,” she replied hotly. “Even if he was responsible for the bombing, it pales in comparison to the atrocities of the Azuren. Do you even know what the Starfield Theory is?”

Chris hesitated, unwilling to admit ignorance or curiosity.

“Everyone knows there was a civilization that inhabited this region of space before humans settled them, right? The Azuren tell us the Precursors were a race called the Amrahn who worshiped a formless goddess called Amrah. At some point the Amrahn reached some sort of divine epiphany and ascended to their afterlife, leaving behind these worlds for a new race to develop. Humans reemerged and the Azuren are supposed to be their caretakers to help them achieve ascendency as justification for controlling every aspect of human life. Right?”

“Okay.”

“The theory tells us that the ruins were not part of some Amrahn race. They're human ruins. There was a human race that lived here long ago that met some sort of calamity that threw them back into the Stone Age. Colonies collapsed, ships were stranded and society came to an end.”

“That's ridiculous.”

“Is it? Then why do we find human remains in the ruins? Why do we find evidence of chemical and biological agents that could explain the collapse of society?”

“Plants?”

She scoffed.

“If all of them is fake then how do you explain the Azuren?”

“We think they're genetically engineered humans. Maybe they were scientists who altered themselves and launched an attack on the human civilization. Maybe they were colonists on a planet somewhere after the collapse who altered themselves to survive and gradually found other pockets of human settlements that made it through. We don't know the details, but they are most certainly not a separate race from humanity.”

“It's not possible.”

Claire frowned. “Then see it for yourself. The Azuren have lied to you because that's the only way they can keep control of the human kingdoms. They try to hide their crimes behind false religions and a faceless goddess and kill anyone who tries to disagree.”

“But why do you believe these things then? Regardless if it's true you're putting your life in danger.”

“Because it's what's right. The Starfield Theory is all about humanity finding its own way in the universe as it was before these Azuren assumed control. Look out at the stars from any of the windows on this ship. A glorious human empire once claimed them all and then the Azuren destroyed it. Without them humanity can achieve great things once again.”

“Through violence?”

Claire winced in a way only a twin would catch. “Admittedly there are elements in the Theorist philosophy that argue for the use of force against the Azuren. They are called Praxis and they believe in taking an approach to the Azuren that calls for their extermination and the deaths of any who support or promote them.”

“Are you like that?” Chris asked before he could stop himself. He realized it would hurt her, but he needed to hear the answer for himself.