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

by Brian Frederico

  It did.

  Nick did some research on the ship's history, just in case. She had been built at the shipyards at Remmington two years prior to his graduation. She stood at one hundred meters in length, but had available modular capability to expand as needed. Searches for the ship's ID in police and government databases yielded no anomalies. When Chris proposed using the vessel as a means of income, Claire balked. Either she didn't have the heart of a spacer or she was jealous that Ian would bequeath his friend a generous gift, but give nothing to an ex-girlfriend. Chris suspected the latter which probably was why she vanished for so many years.

  He could see through the non-polarized windows along the ship's flanks and bridge at the crew moving about inside. The whole vessel was controlled in the confines of the bridge, where barely enough chairs and webbing existed for half a dozen people crammed together. A narrow band connected the bridge to the ship's first cargo bay, a squat thick boxy module, where they kept spare parts, salvaged goods and personal belongings. Another narrow band connected the ship with the living quarters. The module was hexagonal in shape with a narrow walkway running down its center. Though the unit could house a dozen people, their crew stood at six. Chris took over a second space to use as an office that somehow managed to be even more cramped than the one on Garda, but it served his purposes just fine. Beyond the living quarters were the gun batteries. Four autocannon turrets were concealed behind thick blast doors, giving the impression that the unit was another cargo hold. The last two modules on the ship were additional cargo space; one was a converted hangar bay that still could serve that purpose, though they possessed no small craft. The last was used strictly for hauling. Six large Hadron engines running on an internal fusion reactor powered the ship and its weapons. Over the years, Kerali had managed to coax even more power from the reactor which increased their sub-light speed and systems power which gave them a slight boost over ships in a similar class.

  Chris looked down the hull at the cargo bays and turrets. The ship was pockmarked by micrometeorite hits over the years. Though simple enough to fix, Chris insisted on leaving them to give the ship a bit of character. He ordered the weapons installed after a frightening run-in with mercenaries while on contract in the Agalfar. They were making a nice profit smuggling weapons for both sides involved in the civil war there and were looking to make the Cleod a part of their fleet. Some quick thinking and a risky promise of a hefty bribe earned them their freedom and their lives.

  The Azuren understood that piracy was always an issue. Space was simply too large for them to be able to govern every square kilometer of it. Rather than take the extreme expense to patrol every star system in human space, they allowed the humans to police themselves to some degree. In the interest of protecting themselves, Chris and even Drayton insisted upon some sort of defense, even if it was only to scare off would be attackers. He wondered if the guns were even loaded. There was ammunition aboard somewhere, but he'd never actually inspected it. Today might be a good day to do so.

  Chen Guanxin stepped out of the ship and rubbed his eyes. His tattoos glowed brightly despite the grime on his face. He'd obviously been linked into the ship's networks via the control webbing, checking and rechecking every system, making sure the ship was ready to go.

  “Morning, Captain,” he said amicably.

  Chris smiled and nodded. Chen had come to them from another ship after a mutiny on board nearly resulted in his death after he stubbornly refused to pick sides. He came from a monk society on Cherbrighton wedged between the Human Core and the Fringe. He had a strict, regimented personality that abhorred violence of any sort, but had plenty of room for drink. He was probably the only spacer Chris knew who carried no personal weapons.

  “She's as ready as she'll ever be. We won't know for sure until we have her in space,” Chen reported.

  “Thanks, Chen. Have you been in there long?”

  He made a show of checking his watch and frowning, “Longer than I thought it would take. Dry dock has done a number on her, despite the repairs we've made.”

  Chris nodded. “You guys have done a great job keeping her operational.” The compliment rang hollow. The crew didn't want compliments, they wanted to be flying between the stars.

  “We're really undocking soon then?” Chen asked, with a twinge of hope and anxiety.

  Chris nodded. “As soon as we get our cargo.”

  “What exactly are we carrying?”

  “Classified,” Chris responded with a smile.

  Chen's brow twitched.

  “I can tell you, and, in fact, I will have to tell you, that we'll be going into Dominion space.”

  “Dominion space? There's a war on,” Chen sad, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning deeply. Chris hated trampling the pilot's peaceful disposition.

  “Just a few quick jumps then we'll be back,” Chris lied. He was afraid it would be anything, but quick as the jump drive needed to recharge between uses.

  Chen sighed heavily, but nodded in acceptance. “I guess I'll finish up then. I still need to integrate the new drive with the webbing control systems,” he said, yawning again and heading back into the ship.

  The sound of echoing voices reached his ears and he turned to see Drayton leading several individuals dressed in a mix of civilian garb. Claire walked by his side and seemed to be leading them. Drayton babbled endlessly, but they didn't seem to be paying attention. Chris was no expert, but those guys were way too orderly to be civilians. There were nine of them, walking nearly in step two abreast except for the lead individual. They were soldiers, he realized. His cargo.

  The troupe came to a stop on the semi-circle gangway and Drayton gestured at Chris.

  “Lord Morlan, may I introduce Captain Kristoffer. He will be your transport to Letterkenny,” Drayton said placing a fatherly hand on Chris' shoulder.

  The figure at the head of the column towered over the others. His auburn hair, flecked with gray, was cropped close to his head and his face was chiseled and marked with scars just like the Cleod. He stood a good ten centimeters taller than Chris; his robes hid his militant build, but his stance and hard gaze betrayed his true nature. He wore an unkempt beard, as did those of his companions capable of growing one either in an attempt to blend with the disgruntled spacer appearance or the natural result of being on the run.

  Lord Morlan took a step forward and extended a hand. “Captain, thank you for your service.”

  Chris blinked in surprise, remembering the beating he received after his last run-in with nobility. His face where Slader hit him had turned a fresh shade of purple and black, though his SESE tattoos lessened the effect. He shook the extended hand firmly.

  “My pleasure, my lord,” he said, unsure whether he should add in a formal bow, but Pershing held up a hand before he could decide.

  “None of that here, Captain. We're trying to be inconspicuous, remember? And no more titles.”

  Chris nodded in agreement. “Welcome aboard the MacCleod. We're not accustomed to handling human cargo, but you'll have access to the same facilities as my crew-”

  “Which will have a few more members,” Drayton said, butting in and making space for himself between Chris and Lord Morlan. “The Hronguards have increased their security detail. They will be sending twenty guards for your protection, my lord.”

  Pershing regarded Drayton with a certain disdain, annoyed he continued to use his noble title. “Mercenaries, Mr. Drayton?”

  “Only the best. They come highly recommended,” Drayton said with a smile.

  “Yes, I recall fighting them on several occasions,” Pershing frowned at Drayton's faux pax. “They were very good and killed many of my men.”

  Drayton went pale suddenly as the blood drained from his face. Chris' breath caught in his throat and he looked away. Drayton's lack of political finesse was once again rearing its ugly head. Obviously most Commonwealth-based private security firms had seen combat against the Dominion. Even Chris knew that much. A
competent leader would have checked on that.

  “Ah, yes. I should, uh, look to their arrival, then. I leave you in capable hands.” Drayton stumbled away quickly after delivering a stern look to Chris.

  Lord Morlan waited until Drayton was out of earshot and grinned. “Then we swept them from the field and crushed them nearly out of existence,” he added. “That probably explains why they're running security for civilian vessels rather than fighting on a battlefield. I suspect they're here as much to protect us as they are to make sure we don't commandeer your ship. I don't much like business people, Captain,” Pershing said with a look back at Drayton.

  “Neither do I,” Chris responded quietly with a hint of irony.

  “They make all the money off the hard work of people like you. I always liked spacers and flying of course. Unfortunately, my family had other plans for me. Sometimes I am jealous of the freedom you have,” Pershing said.

  He looked back at the MacCleod, suddenly seeing her more of a prison than an instrument of liberty. He nearly commented on his observation, but decided against becoming too familiar with the foreign nobleman. Especially enemy noblemen, even if this one was decidedly more pleasant than the local nobles.

  Chris decided to steer the conversation onto more familiar ground. “My sister will show you around the ship and to your quarters. Have you any bags?”

  Pershing shook his head and several of his men sniggered. “We have only the clothes on our backs. We travel light,” he said with some amusement and chuckles from his subordinates. Apparently, this had become some sort of inside joke.

  Chris smiled awkwardly and indicated Claire should take the Dominion warriors aboard. After a quick nod from Pershing, he watched them file into the ship, duly impressed with their military bearing despite their circumstances. For a moment he felt a flash of jealousy. Joining the Goteborg militia was always a possibility, but I'm hardly fit for any sort of fighting. That's best left for the brave and the foolish.

  At the end of the line was Nick, who had somehow managed to slip in unnoticed. His face was bloodied and his tattoos seemed agitated.

  “What in Amrah's name happened to you?” Chris asked arcing an eyebrow.

  Nick coughed. “Got caught in a bit of a bar fight yesterday after you left.”

  With some concern Chris said, “That why we haven't seen you since?”

  He shrugged. “Some ruffians tried to mug me. On the other hand, I'm never drinking again,” Nick said somberly.

  “Probably a good idea,” Chris said, rolling his eyes. “Our cargo arrived. I want to get going as soon as possible.”

  “They're here?” He asked incredulously, his head suddenly seeming to clear.

  Chris hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Who do you think that was? You're more messed up than I thought. Yeah, Claire's showing them around so maybe you can sneak in without having to deal with them.”

  “So that's why Drayton was looking so nervous back there,” Nick grunted.

  “Lord Damien Sten has hired Hronguards in the past to fight Dominion troops and Drayton's now hired them as security. Lord Morlan was not amused, but he seems a good fellow.”

  “Seems a good fellow?” Nick's screwed up face screwed up even more.

  “They just want to get home and are happy for the help.”

  Nick snorted.

  Chris ignored him. “Make sure Claire takes a look at you. I don't want my XO looking like he got his ass beat either. We have a reputation to maintain.”

  “You should see the other guys,” Nick said nonchalantly but did not elaborate. “Listen, I don't think I made any friends, just now. Maybe we ought to get out of here as soon as possible,” Nick added without looking back.

  And that's not just a suggestion, Chris knew instantly.

  “Alright, that's fine. Kerali's just putting the last touches on our new gear. We'll go as soon as she's done.”

  Nick stomped on to the ship looking decidedly unhappy.

  Chris looked in the direction Nick had come, a thought in the back of his mind suddenly worrying about what Nick had said. The sooner we get this done the better for all of us.

  Lord Damien Sten

  Duke of Hidelborg, Defender of the Border, The Gray Knight

  20 February, 23,423

  Crimson Lady, Goteborg, Magdeborg Commonwealth

  ______________

  “No mistakes today,” Damien murmured to himself on the Crimson Lady's command bridge. He rubbed at the chair's arms, feeling the familiar fabric that countless leaders before him had settled in.

  The crew was busy with their assigned tasks and the vessel’s captain silently watched over them, mindful of the Commonwealth’s royal family present. They kept a polite distance, acknowledging the gulf that divided them in status. The captain was a nobleman from one of Hidelborg's vassal houses, but not of royal descent, but he might as well have been a commoner like the rest of the crew. The interior of the bridge was small as far as flagships went and was home to only a dozen or so crew. They work more diligently when I am here, Damien thought. It is awkward for Captain Branah, but this matter is too important to allow for any mistakes. If I have to make him uncomfortable then so be it.

  Damien's command chair overlooked the strategic tank as well as the other stations on the second floor. He had complete control of the bridge from this central location, overriding even the captain. He watched the giant strategic tank that dominated the bridge. It reached from floor to ceiling and emanated a blue light that Damien found irritating. The rest of the bridge remained dark so the contains of the tank could be observed. Tiny labeled spots indicated the location of Damien's ships as well as civilian and Azuren vessels. As civilian ships jumped in system they were cataloged and then deleted from the tank if they did not meet the specifications he wanted. Damien kept all the Azuren vessels labeled and tracked out of abundance of caution.

  Usually the Azuren thoroughly checked each and every ship that entered and left the system, but many of these ships were left undisturbed. Aaron and Slader spoke with the legate, but Ojressi did nothing to help them. The number of private and corporate vessels fleeing the system had increased substantially and the Azuren and Averi simply did not have the manpower to search each one.

  State military ships and those of the nobility were typically jumped to the head of the inspection line and only given a cursory look over, especially when it was commanded by house royalty. Even the Azuren knew when to appear to respect local authorities. Some of the more arrogant heads of state liked to pretend the lax practice indicated respect for their titles, but Damien knew better. Azuren political doctrine was based on order, not political nicety, and certainly not because they felt any respect for the primitive human governments. They generally trusted the interstellar core states to manage their territory jealously and allowed them to do so almost as a form of power outsourcing. Therefore, holding up their ships in inspection lines only decreased their ability to keep order. They were simply achieving their own ends by proxy in the same manner the human lords allowed their vassals local control of their territory. The Azuren could manipulate the human states into obeying just by pretending they had legitimacy. Damien had to tip his cap to the Azuren; it was a brilliantly managed strategy. Like any good strategy it achieved maximum benefit at minimal effort.

  Currently, the Crimson Lady was stationed at Goteborg along with the majority of the border fleet. Damien had scrounged as many of his forces as he could and posted them here to fend off the inevitable Dominion attack. Because the Azuren controlled the stargates, they alone determined who could travel through them and when. The movement of military equipment to attack other states required Azuren clearance. The only forewarning Damien would receive would be the disappearing of Azuren vessels from the stargate that indicated a large incoming fleet. He had scouts deployed around the gate at all times, analyzing the movement of Azuren ships that would give away the Dominion invasion force.

  Other civilian vessels arr
iving from nearby Dominion systems were routinely stopped and searched by his own troops. Their crews were interrogated for information, but so far nothing had been uncovered about the Dominion plans or about Lord Morlan's whereabouts. If the Dominion was planning an invasion, it was being kept well hidden. How the entire Dominion fleet could not be spotted along the whole length of the border was troubling. Damien knew the invasion wouldn't proceed without Lord Morlan at the helm, but the general hadn't been found yet after his escape and he had no way of knowing if he had sneaked back to the Dominion. There were a lot of unsettled solar systems with token garrisons manned in some cases by private firms who could, easily, be bribed. Pershing certainly had the weight of his wealth and power behind him so passing through those systems would be easy.

  He ordered Aaron and several security teams to Garda to go top to bottom, tearing the place apart if they had to. They were already en route. It was vitally important to get to the twins before the Sørensens did. They would be escorted back to the Crimson Lady and gently informed of their heritage and their future. They needed to see an ally in Damien Sten, and ideally understand that they were not prepared to lead the Commonwealth and abdicate in his favor at the appropriate time. It was slow, Damien consented, but legitimate and legal. Seizing power now would set half the houses against him and a little patience would go a long way. With the Commonwealth on edge between the war and the sudden death of the Archduke, any more shocks might trigger outright civil war.

  Captain Branah maintained his distance, but kept an eye on the activity of the nobles on his bridge. He had been told only that an important arrest would be made shortly and Damien would personally oversee the operation. Branah made no complaint and allowed Damien exclusive use of his ship.