Schism of Blood and Stone (The Starfield Theory Book 1) (50 page)

“Us?”

“No. You and the girl. They're going to get you out of here as soon as possible and take you to Hidelborg to be with Damien. They'll give you a detachment of bodyguards to protect Rebecca.”

“But?”

“What?”

“There sounds like a 'but' in there somewhere.”

“Nothing,” he said. “Good luck on Hidelborg.

He extended his hand and smiled, his bearded face sincere but forced.

Anna shook his hand then watched him walk away.

Sir Aaron Mercer-Sten

Knight Scion of House Mercer

Verland, Goteborg, Magdeborg Commonwealth

______________

Aaron dismissed the Mercer knights and their sections from review and left the hangar bay. Stepping outside, he felt a certain sadness begin to overcome him. House Evers had lost most of their forces, much of their family and their homeworld. Although House Mercer's losses on Haberton had been considerable, they did not compare to House Evers' tragedy. The Vertoxx used there had been an experiment, but its use here had been calculated and practice to maximum effect. The Mercers had other territory and other allies, but the Evers had lost everything. The damage done to their cities was considerable. Pershing had at least left the inhabited sections of Haberton alone, sparing the civilian population.

Aaron left the hangars and headed to the shuttle that Damien kept as his own private office. He walked through the small tent city of waiting soldiers and civilians. He kept his cloak wrapped tightly around him. Goteborg was entering its fall season and the cold came early. Frost already covered the ground.

Some fighters looked up at him as he walked by, their pitiful faces and desperate looks unnerved him. The few that recognized him didn't bother to salute. Some of the civilians regarded him with a cold sort of anger. These were the signs of a defeated army and a defeated people. He had let them down. When they expected victory, he had only cost them their lives, their homes and their families.

He knew it was a tactical victory. They had lost a lot but Pershing had lost worse. House Moore had been destroyed, their main attack on the compound, despite the Vertoxx, failed. Most of Pershing's house units had been destroyed. They stopped Pershing on Goteborg. It'd take him years to rearm and replace his lost units.

He accomplished far more than anyone had expected of him, but the victory still felt hollow.

Damien's shuttle awaited him. Normally, Damien preferred a bare, spartan look to his chambers but the ship was now richly appointed. Deep red rugs, dark varnished mahogany furniture and portraits of infamous Commonwealth generals, admirals and the occasional Archduke and duchess were everywhere. These were his royal chambers. With Salena on the throne and Kristoffer in line to take it when the time came, this was as lavish as it was going to get. This served as his throne room.

Damien's own personal office was at the rear of the shuttle, situated with a window view on both sides and private quarters that were befitting an Archduke rather than a general. Aaron paused outside the door to straighten his uniform. Their conversation earlier had been brief, even terse, Aaron recalled. Damien was bothered by something, but he wasn't quite sure what. Perhaps it was the condition of his troops, the way the campaign for Goteborg had been conducted thus far, or any number of things. Damien was often jittery and reserved when things did not go according to plan.

Whatever it was that was gnawing at his uncle's conscious wouldn't take long to figure out.

Aaron knocked a few times then entered after he heard a muffled command. The office interior was dark, the only light coming from the fire Damien kept burning at all times. It kicked warm up shadows and cracked and snapped every few seconds. Aaron found it to be unsettling and he felt his stomach churn.

He noticed Reyna in a large arm chair near one of the big windows. She seemed passive, afraid even, her face taut and lacking in emotion. Damien was behind his desk, his finger hooked under his chin. He was positioned so that he could see the fire out of the corner of his eye, but his gaze was far off. For a moment, the oppressive atmosphere reminded Aaron of the funeral of one of his uncles who had been killed in a raid against the Dominion. It was quiet and distant, its participants recognizing a distinct loss, but unable to come to terms with it.

“You have done well here, Aaron. You will be commended for your bravery and confident defense of Goteborg,” Damien said slowly.

“Thank you, Uncle,” Aaron said.

“You have severely damaged Lord Pershing, so much so that he has been forced to call in reinforcements from Haberton, weakening his defenses across the entire region. He will be ripe for a counterattack,” Damien continued.

“Have a seat, Aaron,” Reyna said, gesturing to the empty armchair next to her.

Cautiously, Aaron walked across the office and sank into the chair. Something did not feel right. It was subtly wrong, like the trace scent of a dead animal that couldn't quite be located. Reyna's unusually dour mood was suspicious and felt a wave of sympathy for her. But any sort of personal feelings would have to wait.

“We need to withdraw as possible,” Damien said flatly.

For a moment he thought, hoped, he'd misheard. “Withdraw? But, Uncle, we won here. I stopped Pershing,” Aaron said, his mouth falling open.

“The loss of their homeworld is unfortunate, but there's nothing we can do about it. House Evers is virtually destroyed. Lady Evers has gone into a depression. Ian and Diana are dead and Melissa Evers is too young to take control of the house. Perhaps a sympathetic house will either absorb them or take them in as vassals,” Damien said.

“That's cold,” Aaron retorted.

“It's fact,” he snapped back.

“They gave us their complete loyalty and you're abandoning them?” Aaron asked incredulously. He shifted his gaze to Damien, then back to Reyna. She relented and looked away. Damien did not.

“Aaron, every noble knows that at any moment, his house could be ruined and he could be left errant. I understand your feelings towards House Evers; their situation is so similar to House Mercer, but there is nothing we can do for them at this point. House Mercer is still powerful and the shift in power on Haberton will allow your family to reclaim their homeworld in the future. But House Evers is beyond helping. Their surviving military forces will be absorbed into House Sten. The Evers family is free to do as they will, but I suspect they will continue as our honored guests. Until we reach Hidelborg anyway,” Damien said.

Aaron took a breath and leaned back in the chair. The bell had just tolled for House Evers. Damien had given up on them and on Goteborg. Aaron suddenly remembered observing the field with Kristoffer Sten after Slader's slaughter of House Nowitski. Chris commented that he thought it was heartless the way machines tracked Commonwealth soldiers as either alive or dead, one or zero, and updated their status without any sort of emotion. Damien had just switched House Evers from a one to a zero in much the same way. Although Aaron had brushed off Chris' remarks as naive, he suddenly understood why the young man had been so disturbed.

Damien remained right about one thing. House Mercer's status as a major house was in jeopardy after losing Haberton. His father, John, and brother, Franklin, had been killed by Pershing. He hadn't even had time to mourn their loss, yet. He wasn't sure if he could. His mother and sister were still desperately holding the House together. Did he really think that by saving House Evers he might vindicate his own? Had Damien already switched House Mercer from a one to a zero as well? Suddenly, it all clicked in his mind.

“You never intended to hold Goteborg at all,” Aaron said.

Damien cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“This was a diversion,” Aaron said, feeling his heart begin to race. “This was a dangerous gamble, to distract Pershing long enough for you to make your appearance on Magdeborg and get away with the Sten House Guard in tow.”

“You don't know what you're talking about, Aaron,” Reyna whispered.

“Oh? Are you in on this, too?” He spat, whipping his head around to face Reyna. “You haven't figured out that Damien used you as bait? Guess what, Reyna, he didn't count on Pershing being here. He gambled too greatly and underestimated the strength of the Dominion force and it's commander. Pershing was supposed to be behind bars, but instead he's at the head of an army.”

“Aaron-”

“Let me finish, uncle,” he growled, getting to his feet. “You sent us out here to hold the Dominion in check while you could run off to play hero. You're lucky Pershing didn't wipe us out here because if he did you'd lose the only troops you had to toss Salena off the throne. For Ithix's sake, there's barely enough of us left to constitute an army. You're going to Hidelborg because you have no other place to go. You didn't count on Salena moving as quickly as she did and you didn't count on Pershing leading the attack on Goteborg so soon. Well that bastard, Kristoffer, was the one who delivered him back into the hands of the Dominion. He's the one who caused this whole mess. I should have let Slader kill him for you. You gambled and it bit you on the ass!”

Damien waited a few moments, digesting the accusations thrown at him. He rubbed at his chin and blinked. Aaron expected him to look into the fire, desperately searching for answers. Finally, he would reveal that he wasn't the mastermind he thought he was. He didn't have the Commonwealth, and more importantly Aaron, wrapped around his fingers, dancing to his tunes and schemes. Finally, the greatest general in the Commonwealth would break and reveal he was merely human.

“Aaron,” he said calmly. “You are correct that I sent you to Goteborg purposefully. You are also correct that I did not intend for you to hold the planet. Goteborg was a battle lost before it had begun. But you have failed to take into account several things.”

Damien stood and began to circumnavigate the room. “First, I most certainly did expect Salena to launch a quick coup and take the throne for herself. This is part of her nature, brash and extreme actions have been her calling card since she was a child. In anticipation of this event, I needed a short term danger that would force her to split her attention. A small team of Starfield Praxis operatives, on my orders, freed Pershing and delivered him to Garda station. Pershing's freedom will cause Salena to focus on issues beyond consolidating her power.

“The fact that Kristoffer was the one who actually took him to the Dominion was also planned. A personal bond formed between the two, it must have. Once we install Kristoffer as a puppet Archduke, Pershing will make peace with him as a personal favor, ending the war. Once that has been completed, he will abdicate in my favor. I apologize for not explaining these steps to you more clearly, but you have performed your job admirably and proven yourself a capable field commander and a loyal member of House Sten. It is my intention, that once I take the throne, to name you my heir in return for your service.”

The silence that followed was more devastating than the worst combat Aaron had ever experienced. He felt his organs catch fire, his belly melt in rage. His eyes glazed red and he felt suddenly dizzy as his vision tunneled.

I've been set up,
he realized,
thrown away like a used rag and then when Damien realizes he's been caught he tries to toss me a bone. No more of these games. That bastard should die for what he did, throwing away those people's lives and crushing the legacy of an entire House. He makes Salena's crimes appear petty in comparison.

Aaron swallowed heavily, resisting the urge to close the distance and kill his own uncle.

“You're nothing but a liar. You planned none of this, foresaw none of it. Salena took you by surprise. There were no Praxis agents who sprung Pershing and you had no idea Kristoffer would take him back. You and your ridiculous Starfield Theories can't predict what's going to happen. I don't want to be your heir. I don't want to inherit your mess.

“Fuck you, Damien.”

He marched towards the door, ignoring Reyna's gaze and her outstretched hand, seeing only Damien's puppet strings controlling her actions.

Aaron closed the door quietly and marched through the opulent farce of a royal court into the cold reality beyond.

Archduchess Salena Teton-Sten

Duchess of Danvers, Archduchess of the Magdeborg Commonwealth

Arkship of Amrah's Power, Magdeborg, Magdeborg Commonwealth

______________

The temperature could be warmer,
Salena thought.
A wedding ought to be a warm occasion.

Of course, it wasn't just the weather that bothered the Archduchess. Planning the security for the event had kept her up much longer than she'd wished. With Filipov either dead or incapacitated, much of his former duties landed on her shoulders. Magnus' mind was not in the correct state for planning security operations and Richard had been busy keeping a long line of Conclave dignitaries occupied. Cassandra's military security training was virtually nonexistent and, but her sharp political mind was perfect for guest lists and managing seating arrangements just so to reflect the very real power balance. So that left Salena.

The Teton-Sten family stood together outside the Arkship, the giant temples used by the Azuren to worship Amrah and the race of super-beings that preceded both human and Azuren. The Arks were ships – the Azuren claimed – conduits to the afterlife found scattered throughout the inhabited worlds often half submerged in dirt or water like walking sticks stuck there by weary travelers. Magdeborg had sprung up around it, surrounding it like a comforting blanket around a child. The artifacts inside had long been removed, cataloged and stored by the Azuren, likely residing on their homeworlds in the Tri-Sphere. The interiors of the ships had all been renovated to allow for worship to include benches, alters and balconies. Although the ships bothered Salena, she dutifully made the weekly trip, as all nobles did to convince the Azuren they offered proper worship to their deity.

The Mason family would arrive shortly, prepared to give away their only daughter to House Teton-Sten thus cementing the alliance between the two most powerful houses in the Commonwealth. Finally, the Teton-Sten power base would be entrenched on Magdeborg as Harding Corporation technology flowed into the Teton-Sten armed forces. Magnus would crush the resistance and secure the planet. It might get the Azuren to back off their repeated demands for information, reports and control.
Everything was going to according to plan
, Salena thought, trying to soothe herself.

The Azuren themselves stood off to her right, but remained very visible. Alos, their chief and Magdeborg's Supreme Legate, stood at the forefront in his white and blue robes. He had his arms crossed over his chest, his lips curled in a surly expression. He seemed to have little tolerance for silly human rituals. Although arranged marriages were the norm in human society, usually the committed individuals at least attempted to show some affection. The Azuren did no such thing. Their marriages' intent was only for the propagation of their genetic lines. Since they lived for nearly three centuries, such copulation was rare, however.

What also did not escape Salena's notice, nor anyone else's for that matter, was the presence of four other Azuren. Where had anyone ever seen five Azuren at once? Alos had introduced them briefly as his support team, but Salena had no doubt that they were all equally well trained killers and statesmen. They were not here to enjoy the ceremony. This was a test, Salena knew, of House Teton-Sten's ability to control its people and territory. A viability test, Magnus had commented. A very astute remark. If the Teton-Stens failed this test, the Azuren might take drastic measures, possibly even replacing the ruling monarchs with a stronger family line, like the Masons or any other of a half dozen or so of the Commonwealth's strongest houses. Cassandra had even mentioned that Damien might be on their short list of potential replacements and as much as that thought made Salena's blood boil, she was probably correct. Perhaps Damien need not fight on Magdeborg. Perhaps he only needed to wait for the Teton-Stens to fail.

Salena pushed those thoughts from her mind. Security was superb. Plain-clothed soldiers and police stalked the crowd, armed troops lines the streets, and several sections worth of destriers and men-at-arms were posted on duty and waited in reserve. It seemed almost as if they made up half the crowd. Thousands of people and machines watched the crowds for disturbance, irregularities, and facial recognition software to alert security officials if anyone showed up without an invitation. Cameras covered every inch of the procession, the plaza, and the interior of the Ark. Though Alos resisted the idea of wiring cameras inside the sacred structure, he eventually relented, realizing a few drilled holes in the ship's hull were better than some catastrophic explosion that might result from an attack.

Alos, and the Azuren has a whole, are very pragmatic which makes them dangerous, but also predictable
.
Everything would go smoothly
, Salena repeated herself.

Magnus shifted next to her, clearly anxious and eager. Salena didn't remember feeling that jittery on her wedding day. Then again, she had been older than Magnus and she had selected Richard Teton herself. Haakon had already been dead long before Peter had decided how she could be of the best political use to him. Instead, she chose what was most politically empowering for herself. Her marriage to the Teton house leader had granted her unrivaled political power and wealth.

It took her a few seconds to realize Richard had said something to her, but she had been lost in the noise of the crowd and her own thoughts. She hadn't noticed. She asked him to repeat himself.

“The Azuren,” he said. “They worry me. I didn't think there would be so many here.”

Salena reflexively looked over at them as they watched the crowds with extreme scrutiny. Suddenly she had a suspicion that they may have deployed their own security measures, though she doubted that's what occupied Richard's concerned. Azuren were tough, but not invincible. Alos would be wise to worry about his own hide. Some may hate the Teton-Stens, but the Azuren were certainly a close second.

She nodded at her husband. “Don't worry about them. They'll stay out of the war.”

“How does it look on the cameras? If every shot of us you they see the Azuren in the back pulling the strings. I don't like it,” he said, though he leaned back in his spot and ended the exchange.

A sudden cheer rose up from the crowds, probably partially inspired by the plain-clothed police officers whose job it was to do just that. Magnus' head perked up when he saw the cars carrying the Mason family, their security and noble vassals.

“Are you ready, my son?” Salena asked him.

He nodded. “I remember what I have to do if that's what you mean.”

That'll do for now
, she thought.

The Mason convoy rolled closer, slowly covering the distance to the Ark. Small Mason flags fluttered from their positions at each corner of the car. Dozens of armed troopers wearing Mason uniforms kept pace with the vehicle. The Masons themselves were clearly visible inside; the window glass was clear, but definitely bullet proof.

Salena felt the weariness return after her long debate with Duke Frederick about his desire to have an open roofed vehicle. He wanted the crowds to wave at him, apparently accustomed to such conditions on Aarhus. However, here, that was living in a fantasy world. The situation on Magdeborg made the Masons a target.

Salena smiled at the image. Cassandra had been correct. The young Mason woman would be a fitting addition to House Teton-Sten. Though both parents had made a stink over the dropping of the name Mason. Teton-Mason did not adequately describe the power balance and Sten-Mason had drawn laughs even from the parents. Eventually, the flow of Teton-Sten wealth in their coffers would make any complaints moot. Salena noted, to her satisfaction, that the Commonwealth throne would remain with the Teton-Stens and away from potential Mason usurpers.

The car stopped on the street just before the steps leading up to the Arkship. The crowd was waving Mason flags and cheering for their nobility. Initially, Salena blushed in irritation that they were not waving her house's flags, but considered the possibility that a large number of Mason subjects had turned out for the occasion. They would wave their flags for now, but House Mason was on the way out politically. Kendra had no siblings, and their line effectively ended with her. That meant Magnus would inherit the Aarhus Duchy.

Plain-clothed agents, both Teton-Sten and Mason observed the crowds, carefully watching for any trouble spots. It wouldn't take much to cripple the heads of two major houses. Just some idiot with a handgun or flechette could paralyze Commonwealth politics. The danger increased the longer and closer the Masons were with the Teton-Stens. What Salena feared most was the desperateness of the resistance. When humans became trapped in a corner, their thinking changed. They became irrational. Suicide bombings were rare, but not unheard of. Not even the thick skin of the Azuren would save them from such a blast. Better to finish the ceremony quickly and send the Duke and his wife on their way sans daughter.

First to emerge from the vehicle was Duke Frederick Mason. His large girth seemed to pause as he attempted to maneuver it out of the door. A roar went up from the crowd and he waved in a regal fashion. His wife followed him, waved gently with reserve and then stepped aside

At least they had the sense to recognize that today is not about them,
Salena thought.

Finally, Kendra appeared, wearing a dress in the colors of her house. Wearing pure white had been a tradition long done away with, part of some ancient religion the Azuren had crushed millennium ago, in favor of a political message. Today she wore purple, tomorrow, blue and gold.

The Mason parents flanked their daughter as they climbed the stairs of the Ark. The Duke was puffing heavily, unaccustomed to such strenuous activity. Guards and agents surrounded the family, though Salena figured they would be edited out when it came time to publish the wedding for the population. Best not to appear paranoid for historical record.

The bodyguards parted when the Mason family stopped two steps below the Teton-Stens. The crowd began to quiet and the wireless mic picked up Salena's words. “Duke Mason, we honor you with the privilege of accepting your blood with ours. You have served my family and the Commonwealth with distinction. We hope that tradition of service as our vassals will continue. Will you renew your vassalage to House Teton-Sten?”

Mason took a deep breath. “We do.”

“Then it is so renewed. Will you join us in the Arkship?”

He nodded, preferring to catch his breath rather than wasting words.

Alos and his Azuren associates formed up in front of them. At an invisible signal, the Azuren marched in step into the Ark.

The interiors of the Arkships differed greatly from that of a even the most primitive of human ships. Most of the interior had been cleared out, creating vaulting ceilings with angular protrusions from the walls to support the hull to serve as a temple. Interestingly, the decks and hulls were plated and the bolts were still clearly visible despite the existence of modern sealing techniques. Apparently the Azuren had decided to keep the historical aspects of the ship intact. It was, after all, a relic, a discovery modified for modern purposes, but kept austere in its looks.

Hundreds of rows of simple wood benches lined in rows faced a dais towards what would have been the cockpit of the ship. Salena often wondered what the cockpit would have looked like, whether it actually contained the necessary electronics and equipment to fly the vessel or if it had been stripped out and studied by Azuren scientists. Above the dais hung a stylized version of the Azuren sigil, a series of complex lines and calligraphy whose meaning had been long lost to history. Perhaps it still meant something to the Azuren.

The Azuren led the small procession of royalty down the aisle, passing ranks of nobles, some beaming brightly at their lords and ladies, while others showed outright contempt. Commonwealth security would be taking note, she was sure.

The Azuren formed a semi-circle along the outer rim of the dais, inviting the royals to stand in its center. Other humans, wearing white robes, stood outside the dais holding candles and other religious symbols. They were the Averi whose honored ranks Isarla would soon join.

The Azuren themselves watched quietly, clutching their holy books, ancient relics made of leather and paper. Typically, human priests presided over these types of ceremonies, but this one was being handled by Supreme Legate Alos himself, indicating a special interest, or a special concern, for the humans under his direction.

At another unseen cue, the group began its chanting, a low ominous sound that tore through the Arkship and sent shivers down her spine. It felt more like a funeral than a wedding. It was in a language she was unfamiliar with. She'd only heard bits and piece of it at Azuren ceremonies, but they often spoke the odd language to one another when not wanting to be over heard by their ignorant human charges. Humans rarely learned the language, and only those trusted completely – or brainwashed completely – by the Azuren were taught. As best as she knew, the language had never been fully deciphered. Maybe those Starfield Theorists types had identified a few phrases here and there.

As the group continued its mournful chants, Salena took a few moments to glance at the other humans on the dais Magnus was shifting nervously, casting shy glances at Kendra who stood just across from him. She smiled awkwardly in return.
Like school children again,
she thought.
Magnus is the second most powerful individual in the Commonwealth and Kendra will soon be the third. Show some authority!