“Don't disregard your uncle, either,” she cautioned. “You think he'll be quiet while we attack Magdeborg? You'd better believe he has something in mind. We may have the jump on him, but he will not let this go unnoticed. In this case, Magnus is correct. We need to move swiftly, outmaneuver your uncle and establish ourselves firmly before Damien can put any of his plans into action. Initiative is the key.”
“But his armies are on the Dominion border. If he moves, the Dominion will strike and overrun the entire Goteborg Duchy. There's nothing he can do,” Magnus said with a confident smirk. “He's trapped.”
Salena hesitated in responding. Hubris has always been your weakness, my son, you're a fool if you think Damien has ever considered himself trapped. This might be a lesson he needs to learn on his own.
“Damien's reach and influence is very real. Don't forget,” Cassandra said lowering her voice, “His time on the border has given him many allies. A lot of houses owe their very existence to him.”
“And they're still on the border, light years away. What are they going to do from there?”
“He has other allies too, houses nearer to Magdeborg who are on good terms with the border houses. I've heard he also has contacts with Starfield Theorists and other factions who have the reach to hit us,” Cassandra said.
Magnus' prosthetic arm clenched seemingly of its own accord. “They do not have the power we have at our disposal-”
“There are other measures of power beyond military means,” Cassandra insisted. “You can't afford to ignore other ways-
“Enough!” Magnus shouted, swiping his real hand through the air, effectively ending the conversation.
Kendra took a startled step back and Cassandra rolled her eyes and fell into silence. Salena frowned as she watched her children argue. Magnus was easily flustered. Though he was generally clear thinking and a capable commander, he had a tendency to go cold when met with his match in wits or battle. Cassandra's combative personality and fearlessness provided Magnus with a natural rivalry that spurred him to improve himself lest he be outdone. That or angrily shut out all opposition. Though Cassandra ought not to be pushing him just hours before he would go into combat, Salena silently chastised. I do not need my only son's head clouded by doubt when fighting for his life.
“I have to prepare the attack,” Magnus said. “Cassandra, Mother,” he said with a slight bow. “My love,” he added, touching Kendra's arm. Magnus turned quickly and headed for the door.
“That one has a lot of learning to do,” Cassandra muttered.
Salena shushed her. “Magnus is your superior. You'd best remember not to challenge him in front of his men. You are brilliant, my love, but you must temper it with patience. You'll never reach Magnus by confronting him. Perhaps you should learn some subtlety of your own.”
Cassandra closed her eyes, acknowledging the rebuke, and sighed again. “Sometimes I prefer it were me that was born first.”
Salena laughed genuinely. “Honey, you aren't the only younger sibling to feel sidelined by tradition.” Salena gestured at herself. “Your time will come. Sometimes you just have to let events play out as they will. Now, you have your own role to play here. Keep an eye out for any transmissions from Conrad. He may he wondering why we're here. Make sure he understands the situation and offer some ways in which he can help us make this transition as easy as possible. Go make sure things are ready for us on the ground. I don't want any surprises as Magnus enters the city.”
“Yes, Mother,” she said quietly, then offered her elbow to Kendra an they departed in a flurry of discussion.
Salena shook her head slowly and turned back to the holotank. Several more ships had jumped through, but the going was slow. She wondered if Thessilony was intentionally delaying the process to spite her. She would not put it past him.
Alos questioning her intentions added to her concerns. He was the Supreme Legate of Magdeborg. If he wanted to, he could warn the Sørensens in advance, putting the entire attack in jeopardy.
Magnus had been extremely careful in his preparations, but details on the Sørensen defensive fleets were sketchy. They would be on alert and likely had the militias mobilized. In any case, they were preparing to bury one Archduke and crown another and there would be a large number of nobles and other aristocrats on the planet. Security would be tighter, guards more watchful.
The real problem was landing military forces on the surface of the planet before the Sørensens could mobilize their full strength. Cassandra's spies and fifth columnists indicated that the Sørensens were not prepared to defend the planet from an invasion. They were busy preparing Peter's funeral and the coronation which meant a focus on protecting people, not assets. It made them vulnerable.
There were still questions though. If the Sørensens were orchestrating a coup, why hadn't they taken better measures to defend themselves? Why hadn't they hired more mercenaries? Why weren't more militias called up in case of violence?
At first she had believed they were being as surreptitious as possible as to not attract attention, but the lack of any sort of defensive preparation was concerning. It made her suspect some sort of trap. Perhaps they had allies among the other noble houses. The Stens had their enemies of course. Perhaps the Sørensens had their co-conspirators. So far, it appeared as though the Sørensens were acting alone. Cassandra had a good diplomatic network in place on Magdeborg that fed her information so Salena was confident that the information was accurate.
But a wise commander never relies on only one source, she reminded herself.
“Good morning, Duchess,” said a voice so close so abruptly that it startled her from her thoughts.
Dmitri Filipov, the stunted spy, stood a few meters away, blending in with the environment without actually doing anything. Somehow he'd managed to get his hands on a Teton navy uniform, cleanly pressed and presentable, but the man had no military training. Dmitri was unshaven and his hair had grown long and unruly, probably the remnants of his subterfuge on Magdeborg. Dmitri was short, barely a meter a half tall and of slender build and dark complexion. He had an incredible ability to be forgotten, to be dismissed as a nobody, unremarked and unremembered. Now that she thought of it, she couldn't have been sure he hadn't been here during her conversations with her children. While such a distinction might be crushing to any with a desire to be a functioning member of a society, it was ideal for what purposes Salena needed him for.
Dmitri had served several different roles in Salena's service ranging from political adviser to spy. His skills were his incredible ability to recall fine details, none of which he ever seemed to forget. He was intelligent, dedicated and completely twisted. There were times when even Salena feared his capabilities. Once she had sent him to the Lolland stargate to gather information about a new Azuren legate. He returned with the information and even the legate's favorite robes.
“Beautiful thing, the fleets of the Great States,” Dmitri said. “So much human effort, so much metal, power, focused in a single point like the great plumage of the nobility. Simply amazing.”
“You've always fascinated me, Dmitri,” she said. “You must have been some sort of failed Azuren experiment.”
“I'm sorry, Lady, I do not understand,” he said.
“You're a bad liar and you also have no capacity for modesty so you know damn well about what I'm talking about.”
“Is it my ability to learn the truth even when I am fed only lies? My ability to feel no pain? No remorse? No silly human emotions at all?” Dmitri asked shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning against the bulkhead.
“And your propensity to speaking about the human race as if you weren't a member of it,” she huffed.
“Maybe I'm not human at all. Maybe I am one of those failed Azuren experiments who hide amongst the human population. Or maybe I'm something else entirely.”
“Feeling a bit dramatic today?”
“Perhaps just whimsical.”
“Good, so am I,” Sa
lena said. Quick, even for her age, she grabbed Filipov's arm and drew it towards her as her other hand reached for a blade hidden in her robe. With great precision, she cut a neat line just a a few centimeters in length up his forearm.
Filipov neither flinched nor reacted in any noticeable manner even as the wound began to ooze blood. Salena frowned slightly that she didn't elicit the reaction she was hoping for. Then again, Filipov could have killed her before she'd even reached halfway for his arm if he'd cared to.
“There, see. It's red, not blue! Just like the rest of us. Looks like you're not an Azuren,” she said.
Filipov regarded the wound like it was nothing more than an annoying itch. The blood began to flow down his arm, but he was quiet until the trickle reached his wrist. “It seems you have shown me to be a liar once again. I guess I am merely human after all,” he said, feigning dejection.
“Indeed,” Salena responded matter of factly as she returned the hidden blade. “I want you on the surface of Magdeborg and transmitting to us the disposition of House Sørensen and the Sten House Guard as soon as possible. We may come under fire from Magdeborg's defense fleet and be delayed.”
Dmitri lowered his arm, but did nothing to staunch the blood flow. Salena found his nonchalance about the wound to be disturbing. It was not serious, but it was not something to be ignored either. All intelligence agents were required to have anti-interrogation training which included torture sessions to find an agent's breaking points. He claimed he could feel no pain, and attempts to torture him in the past did not reveal any pain threshold for him. In fact, Salena thought he might have seemed to enjoy it. She rather admired his power over pain, but wondered privately if he had lost a bit of his humanity in the process. If one felt no pain one could not recognize the pain in others. He did not have empathy because he could not physically understand suffering.
Sounds like an Azuren, she thought.
“If that's the case, Houses Sten and Sørensen will likely have time to rally their forces to repel your invasion,” Dmitri said in his flat gravelly voice. “There will be nothing I can do to help you. Perhaps it would be wise to look for allies.”
“Magnus will marry Kendra on Magdeborg soon after we arrive. House Mason must be tied to us by blood, but I don't want to call upon them just yet. I've made some promises to them, but I want to hold on to what they owe me a little longer. We must minimize the number of actors.”
“Magnus will have a fight on his hands then.”
“We will all have a fight on our hands, Dmitri. Your job is to limit the scale of that conflict if we get to that point.”
Dmitri glanced in her direction. “Of course, my Lady. And your son?”
“What of him?”
“You have always hesitated to give Magnus the battles he wants. You have always feared for him. Coddled him. It's started to damage his reputation among his soldiers. Who respects a general who has never fought?”
“Be careful, Dmitri,” she warned, feeling her neck and face warm with embarrassment. She'd been accused of coddling him before, but only by her family, never by Dmitri.
“You think he can break House Sørensen? Destroy Conrad's knights?” Dmitri pressed.
Salena looked away. She watched the other naval personnel scurrying around the deck below. Can Magnus and House Teton beat the Sørensens in battle? Magnus has never been in combat against a major house before. He could be killed. Or worse, he could be a coward.
She felt her heart leap into her throat and she coughed to cover her sudden shiver. Cassandra would inherit the throne, the sly, diplomatic one, rather than the general. I love my daughter, but she is not a leader. Magnus must destroy the Sørensens and live.
“He'll do his job,” she said finally with more confidence than she felt. He's never been tested like this before though, she thought.
“And the children Dietrich Sørensen mentioned. What of them?”
Salena had debated with herself whether to reveal the nature of Dietrich's conversation to Dmitri. Ultimately, she had believing his assistance in determining the veracity of Dietrich's claims would be useful.
“I've already sent several agents to look for them,” she said finally. Assassination was not a tool she had used before, but this was not a time for mistakes. “No lose ends,” she added.
“Of course, Duchess. I'll send my best men,” he smiled as if the coming deaths would give him pleasure.
“Now get out of here, cretin,” she snapped.
Dmitri showed no sign of being annoyed at the sudden dismissal and left the bridge. She noticed a small stain and trail on the white floor where he allowed the blood to drip from his fingers.
What a bizarre little man.
Salena watched the magnificent images of the Teton ships, took comfort in the power and strength they represented, float slowly in space around the massive star. They had a certain beauty she found appealing, beautiful in their own right like a face only a mother could love. She started to understand how warriors claimed to love their machines of war.
But I see them as means to an end. And that end lies just a few light years from here. One quick jump then a battle that will put the Commonwealth in my hands, protected from the tyranny of the Sørensens.
Salena sighed as a warning klaxon blared, declaring an imminent jump. She braced herself against the strategic tank. The jump took only a few seconds as the ship slid through the gravity well as the station dragged the Danvers and Magdeborg stars together. Salena felt the sickening lurch and squeezing sensation as the ship cut a small hole in the fabric of space and slipped through.
Salena gripped the railing tightly as she experienced the free falling sensation. She likened it to the sensation of missing a step, that brief second of sheer terror as the brain misjudged the distance and, expecting solid ground, found only air. Except this sensation did not last a moment, but several very long ones. She closed her eyes as a wave of nausea swept over her. The pit of her stomach whirled, but she held tight, waiting for space to reform itself around her. I hate all this moving around. Once we establish ourselves on Magdeborg I can settle in. No more jumping for this Duchess.
Space finally returned to normal as the entire Teton fleet reemerged on the other side of the tunnel to the region just above Magdeborg's star, the view screens adjusting for the increased brightness. The crew below burst into frenzied activity, checking to make sure all the ships made it through. They were very aware that Salena had lost her own father to a misjump and so they took great care in making each jump as safe as possible.
Salena slowly loosened her grip on the railing and breathed deeply. Her stomach settled. Neither of her children ever seemed particularly troubled by the warping of space time. They didn't carry the weight of Haakon's loss and of the future of their house just yet. Today would change them both as they took a step into the huge world beyond Danvers and House Teton-Sten. They would be given real responsibility, real maturity and a place as a power player in Commonwealth politics.
Oh, to be young again, Salena thought bitterly as she turned from the tank and the crew below. She had to make herself presentable to accept the Commonwealth crown after Magnus crushed the Sørensens and placed House Teton-Sten into its rightful seat of power.
Kristoffer
Captain of the MacCleod
19 February, 23,423
Garda Station, Goteborg, Magdeborg Commonwealth
______________
After Claire had settled in and begun to set up her quarters on the MacCleod, she insisted on being shown around the station. After a debate, he relented, but refused to take her to the seedier more dangerous areas in the station's belly. First, he showed her the public ship docks and watched the ships come and go, pointing out which ones belonged to the most powerful corporations and Commonwealth military. On the way back to the Cleod's berth they walked through one of the larger galleries lined with shops and restaurants for travelers and tourists. Most were empty as the public fled in anticipation of
the Dominion assault. Many people evacuated after the execution of the Theorist feeling invasion imminent. The Dominion would never dare damage a station, but fear was a powerful weapon. Despite the emptiness, Claire seemed to want to poke her head into every nook and cranny.
She frowned when she emerged from a shop that bravely remained open to see his arms crossed and fingers drumming on his biceps. “What are you so nervous about?”
“We've got a deadline to make,” he said sharply.
“Tomorrow,” she reminded him. “Stop being so uptight.”
Chris was about to respond, but stopped when the tiny crowd suddenly murmured excitedly. Between the bodies he could see flashes of blue and white and as the crowd quieted the stomping of boots echoed through the chamber. When the marching party turned the crowds parted for them like a school of fish breaking apart to evade a predator. Suddenly Chris and Claire were on the front line and the reason for the crowd's trepidation became clear.
Three Commonwealth knights and their retinues were headed towards the private ship hangars from the direction of the Azuren Legate's suites at the peak of the station. They did not speak, nor even acknowledge the existence of the common class around them, although their bodyguards carried heavy weapons and pushed back anyone deemed too close. The knights, all male, wore their full formal dress in their respective house colors complete with a flowing cape and swords hanging from their hips. The largest knight was obviously a member of House Sten in his blue and white armor, though his hair was dyed black and red. The center smaller knight wore a combination of black and green and the third quartered mustard and burgundy armor
“Who is that?” Claire asked, raising her hand to point at the monstrous man. An obvious foreigner, the youngest of the knights was not as well known around Goteborg.
Chris grabbed her forearm roughly and shoved it back down. “That's Sir Aaron Mercer-Sten, the second in command of the Goteborg defense army. Don't point at them. Ever.”
Schism of Blood and Stone (The Starfield Theory Book 1) Page 8
