Schism of Blood and Stone (The Starfield Theory Book 1) (23 page)

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. He 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

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. Dietrich 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.

As Salena entered the armored vehicle that would take her back to the palace, she took a deep breath and held it for several seconds before exhaling slowly. The car was empty save for herself so she allowed herself a victorious smile. The deed was done.

In a few weeks they would bury Peter Sten and this dirty business. Alos, the despicable Azuren who stole her daughter away from her, would crown her Archduchess of Magdeborg. Even with victory secure she could not shake the fear and stress from her mind. So much accomplished, so much more to do, and so much more that could go wrong.

Kristoffer

Captain of the
MacCleod

MacCleod
, Mkuranga, Caeph Dominion

______________

Chris rubbed his forehead so roughly that it began to redden rivaling the heat of embarrassment that burned on his face. Lord Pershing and the Dominion garrison had dismissed his service out of hand and sent him away with nothing but empty promises and blood money. Drayton would get his money and the crew would certainly be paid for their trouble, but it would not be enough to assuage his wounded pride. He tried rubbing at his temples where his SESE tattoos linked. There was a spacer belief that it would relieve stress and headaches, even more serious pain, but Chris had no success.

“You ready, Chris?” Nick asked quietly.

Chris looked up into the young man's face. They hadn't spoken personally beyond the usual chatter between captain and crew as the
MacCleod
jumped from Letterkenny to Mkuranga. Chris had, in fact, been partly avoiding him. Nick would never say anything, but Chris knew what he was thinking. He had been right. This mission had been foolish and stupid at every level. He'd risked his crew, his ship, and his reputation for what? To aid the enemy of his homeland, at the cost of the dead Hronguards and whatever damage Pershing would reap on Goteborg. Sure, Drayton would praise him for a job well done, but he would write off the Hronguards as collateral damage, pay their firm for the losses and move on.

Chris should have told him to shove that job up his own ass or even defied Drayton and taken the Dominion prisoners of war to Goteborg to return them to whatever detention center from which they'd escaped. Nick would have been happy, the Hronguards would be alive and Chris' ego and dignity would be intact. Sir Ian Evers might even have bought him a new ship, the beginnings of his very own fleet. Drayton might have been executed for treason, but Chris was actually beginning to feel okay with that.

Chris nodded. “Take us home. I want to be back in Garda and get that drive offloaded immediately.”

He was actually looking forward to transporting cargo across the Commonwealth again. He'd like to avoid pirates and using the ship's weapons again. A small part of him took pride in fighting off the Black Lotus though. The
Cleod
had never seen combat before and yet, somehow, they'd managed to hold off two Black Lotus frigates and a boarding party. Often, when cargo vessels in deep space were attacked, their crews were killed, their cargo was stolen and that was the end of it. Defying the Lotus was almost a thrill, a great adventure, and for about half an hour, he played the role of the bold star ship captain valiantly fighting evil with his crew just like in the movies. He was anything but bold, more like terrified out of his mind and the only fighting he did was shooting a man as he slipped in a pool of blood.

What kind of ripples would that little encounter have? Would the Lotus actually think twice about hitting cargo ships?

The Black Lotus Society had roots in every major human state and beyond. They were a significant faction, so a loss of two frigates and a two dozen marines would hardly be a blip on the radar. The space around Mkuranga was clear, so it was unlikely Captain Nordu Yurani would be out looking for revenge. Maybe he was dead. Chris secretly hoped so.

“Jump the ship,” Nick instructed Chen.

Chris felt the gentle tug of the generators as the jump drive booted up. Briefly he felt as if he was being stretched by the gravitational field as it sought a clear way through light years of voidspace to deliver him safely to Goteborg. It was accompanied by a falling sensation, the dropping out of one's stomach as the ship was sucked into the field, then returned to normal space on the other side like a stretched rubber band snapping back to its former shape.

Immediately an alarm was sounded. Chen straightened at the webbing that gripped at his head and face, his mind querying the ship for the source of the problem. He felt the ship shudder slightly as his eyes flicked to the display board. A much deeper rumble echoed through the hull, jolting the command crew in their seats and momentarily disrupting Chen's link with the ship.

“Commonwealth vessel,” Proda reported somberly. “Battleship.”

A voice came through the bridge's speaker system. “Attention,
MacCleod.
This is Knight-Colonel Aaron Mercer-Sten of the Commonwealth Royal Navy. Hold your position and prepare for a boarding party. You are found to be in violation of sovereign space.”

Chris glanced at Proda in confusion. He shrugged. “They overrode the communications network. They've got us in their gravity well. I don't think we have enough Hronguards to fend them off.”

Nick snapped back. “Don't be stupid, we're not going to fire on Commonwealth marines.”

Chris was not about to repeat his earlier mistake. He activated the link again. “Royal Navy vessel, we are prepared to allow you to board.”

The
Cleod's
cameras located the vessel and displayed it on the screens. The huge ship was nestled a few hundred kilometers just above them. Chris realized they'd nearly jumped right into it.

When the link was closed: “They're going to find the drive and the mask,” Claire snapped.

“I know.”

“We're going to be screwed.”

“I know! Knock it off!”

Chris glared back at his twin. She bristled at the retort and seethed silently. He could feel her anger wrapping around him like a cloak. For some reason, despite everything, Chris still found it easy to be angry with her.

“They must have tracked us when we left the system earlier. We were getting those pings, remember? They were sitting here waiting for us,” Nick said.

“For days?”

“Apparently.”

“We don't have a choice in the matter,” Chris reported, resigned to the boarding. He was about to signal the hangar to be opened, but Proda stopped him.

“Hold on. More signals, incoming vessels!” Proda shouted.

More Commonwealth vessels to handle a simple freighter?
He thought angrily. Pershing would have moved very quickly to organize something like that.

“They're Black Lotus! They're opening fire on the Commonwealth ship,” Chen reported.

“Get us out of here then,” Chris ordered.

Chen shook his head. “We're still in the gravity well. We're stuck here until the Commonwealth says otherwise.”

Chris saw the lights flash red and yellow indicating weapons fire and hits on his screens. The camera snapped quickly to acquire the new arrivals. The Lotus had brought a small fleet with them, a dozen frigates, several support ships and a handful of battle cruisers which was certainly enough to overwhelm even the Commonwealth battleship.

“Get our own guns going then. We're not going down without a fight,” Chris snarled feeling his nerves begin to fray again.

Chen hesitated. “At whom, sir?”

Chris narrowed his brow in confusion. “The Lotus ships,” he said slowly.

He surely didn't think we'd open fire on a Commonwealth battleship?

Nick began relaying orders to the port side guns manned by the surviving Hronguards. Chris could feel the ship rattle with the shooting.

“Look, it's the
Labored Soul,
” Proda pointed out the signals on one of his monitors. “I think they tracked us, too.”

“Aren't we popular,” Nick commented dryly.

“There's too many of them,” Chris said softly. Small Lotus fighter craft were zipping around the Commonwealth vessel, scoring hits all along its spine. There was no way it would stand up to the Lotus fleet, and the
MacCleod
was a sitting duck. Other fighters turned their attention to the
Cleod
and strafed the ship from bow to stern. Lights flashed all along the ship reporting moderate damage. Not something she could handle for long.

“Get me in touch with the Commonwealth ship, Proda.”

Proda quickly manipulated the controls, opening a line to the larger Commonwealth vessel.

“Knight-Colonel Mercer-Sten, this is Kristoffer.”

He waited patiently before the voice of Sir Aaron returned. “We're a bit busy here. We haven't forgotten you and I'm afraid I can't release you.”

“You can't win, Colonel. They're too powerful for a lone ship, even one as strong as yours. We need to get out of here,” Chris said.

The return voice was full of desperation. He understood the dire situation as well. “The Azuren station is too far. We can send a distress call to the Commonwealth Navy, but that will take time. We will hold until they arrive.”

“We don't have time for reinforcements, sir. I can't withstand their attack. I don't think you can either.”

The comm was silent for many panicked heartbeats. “If you slave your navigation computer to ours we can use the jump drive to get to Wastert,” Chris added, hoping for a response.

The line was silent for a few more moments. Dimly, he could hear Mercer-Sten giving orders, shouting at his crew to adjust their fire.

Nick shook his head and whispered. “He won't do it, Chris. The ramifications for nobility engaged in illegal activity is too much. He'd rather sacrifice himself out here than resort to that.”

Chris ignored him and opened the link again. “How many more of your people need die, Colonel? We only have a limited amount of time that we can do this.”

There was more shouting and then what sounded like an explosion.

“We know you have the drive installed on your ship. I don't like the idea of using this technology, Captain. It is too far beneath me,” the Commonwealth knight replied.

Nick nudged Chris' arm to say,
I told you so.

“Would you prefer to die out here? The drive mask will hide the jump from passive sensors. Unless someone is looking right at us, they'll never detect it.”

There was another long pause. More fire was pouring into the Commonwealth ship. A few more fighters had locked on to the
MacCleod
and raked her again with strafing runs. Red lights began to flash along the hull indicating breaches. The batteries were not quick enough to hit fighter craft coming in at hundreds of kilometers per hour, and they offered only a meek response to the guns on the Lotus ships.

“Breach in cargo six,” Chen reported. “Closing it now.”

He needs to make up his mind or we're all going to die out here.

Finally the knight came back on. “Do it. Our pilot will link our ship to yours.”

Chris severed the communication. “Kerali, can we even do this?”

“I can't guarantee anything,” she said as another wave of fear threatened to overwhelm her. She visibly calmed herself. “The drive is still cooling. Even if I use the all power the ship has we might not make it to Wastert. And then the Commonwealth ship, too? If we don't make Wastert we'll be in voidspace with a wrecked drive and an angry Commonwealth warship.”

“Can we draw power from the Commonwealth vessel into the drive?” Chris asked.

Chen spoke up. “I can feel their power systems through the link. I can draw the energy from the engines and other systems into the drive. It'll be dangerous-”

“Do it.”

After a few moments that seemed like years, Chen reported the successful slaving of the Commonwealth ship's navigation computer to the jump drives. The tattoos on his body began to glow a brilliant green. He was using every atom of his being to alter the Commonwealth ship's power grid, forcing it into the drive.

Through clenched teeth, Chen uttered a successful transfer.

“Jump!”

Chris felt the sickening lurch in his stomach again as the ship generated a hole in space, and both vessels slid through. The lights in the bridge went out and through the view ports, Chris could see the starfield shifting, warped and twisted, the star lines dragged out and pushed into bizarre shapes that made him ill. His brain could not handle the visual overload. When the universe stopped shaking, he opened his eyes.

“Status report?” He breathed.

Chen was quiet. Proda checked his readouts and referred to the screens. “Both ships made it through. The Commonwealth ship sustained heavy damage before the jump, but she seems to have held together. It'll require some serious repair efforts.”

“And us?”

“A few new dents, but no more breaches. The jump drive seems to be responding, but I wouldn't dare use it until it cooled down,” Kerali said.

“Chen, are you okay?”

The pilot was silent. Chen seemed to have collapsed into the webbing, his arms limp inside. His tattoos were glowing more intensely than anything Chris had been before. His body actually steamed.

“Chen?” Chris repeated getting out of his chair.

Claire stood up and shakily made her way to the pilot's alcove. She checked his pulse then pulled her fingers away from his throat as if she'd been burned. She released the webbing from his face and hands and he slumped to the floor. His eyes were open and bloodshot and blood oozed from his ears and nose, his skin was still steaming.

Claire shook her head. “He's gone,” she choked.

“Amrah...” Chris uttered.

Claire sank to her knees, stroking the dead pilot's hair while the rest of the crew watched in stunned silence.