“That was cruel.”
“No. He was right. I was a fool for believing Pershing. I was a fool for helping him. You were right and I should have listened. Why didn't you stop me?”
Nick chuckled. “I couldn't reveal to you who you were. You wouldn't have believed me if I did anyway.”
Chris made a face. “Probably.”
He took a deep breath and coughed. The effects of the Vertoxx were weakening finally.
“I shouldn't even be alive. Who survives a Vertoxx poisoning like that? I mean I was right in the thick of it.”
Nick shrugged. “You shouldn't have. Sir Aaron almost got you killed. Maybe you are blessed by Amrah.”
“Hah! So I'm divine now, too?”
“I've seen stranger things.”
“I haven't. Claire would laugh at you.”
Nick ignored the comment. “We're going to Hidelborg later today to rearm, regroup and find more allies. We'll need every one that we can get. It's not going to be an easy road to reclaim your throne from Salena. Most importantly we're going to have to teach you to fight. No more crazed charges like you did at Verland.”
“What good is the throne if I'm not alive to sit on it.”
“Pretty much. I was sworn to protect you so I tried to get back to you as quickly as I could. Sir Aaron assigned me to a militia unit hundreds of kilometers from here. Sir Ian tried to get me a transfer, but after he died I had to make my own way back. If my commanders had known who I was it'd have gone much faster, but I couldn't blow my cover just yet.”
Chris wheeled on Nick. “So this whole time you've been a Sørensen?”
Nick smiled. “Guilty as charged.”
“You've not seen or spoken to your family?”
Nick shook his head sadly. “No. Just short missives from time to time to report on you and Claire or request new instructions.”
“Your whole life was given to look after us.”
Nick shrugged. “All Sørensens give their lives in service to the Sten family. That is our duty as retainers, bodyguards, administrators, you know. I did what was expected of me and will continue to serve at your pleasure.”
“Your parents are still on Magdeborg?”
Nick nodded. “Odin and Astrid Sørensen are leading the insurgency against Salena. They were alive the last time my grandfather heard. Who knows if they are now.”
“And my parents? They're alive?”
“I haven't heard. If we make it to Magdeborg and they've managed to keep hidden this whole time it's likely you'll see them again.”
“I thought they were dead. The misjump-”
“It was necessary to deceive you. I'm sorry. They had served their purpose and having them in your life might conflict your loyalties. We also hoped that staging such an event might bring Claire back out of hiding. It didn't work.”
“So what happens to her? She was pretty pissed. She wants no part in all this.”
“We try our best to protect her. We tried to introduce bodyguards to her before, but she rejected all of them. No one seemed to stick. Then she vanished so quickly we didn't have time to track her. This was upsetting as you can imagine,” Nick said.
“Well she's back now. No more disappearing. We have to be united in this,” Chris said, his SESE tattoos fluttering with renewed vigor.
Nick put his hand on Chris' shoulder and held him in place. “You sure want to go through with this? It's not going to be easy and it's very possible we could all die doing this. If you have any reservations, now is the time to voice them.”
“This is what's right. If my father had me hidden away to protect his legacy and secure his bloodline then we should honor his wishes, right?”
Nick nodded absently.
“You don't look convinced.”
“It's not your fault. It's just crazy thinking I've been with you for all these years, keeping you safe and now it's time for it to come to fruition.”
“We'll still be friends through all this, right? I don't care about these titles and legacies. You were my friend first and foremost. I want it to stay that way.”
“Of course. Many Sørensens are friendly with the Archdukes they assist.”
“I'm not talking friendly. I'm talking about the times we stayed up late drinking beer and playing cards. I need that.”
Nick nodded. “I understand. Things are going to be different now. You're going to be the Archduke and relationships change. Just remember that.”
Chris looked down, resigned. “I know. What about between me and Lord Damien or Sir Aaron. Aren't I their superior?”
Nick shrugged and pursed his lips. “In a way, yes. You may have the title, but they have experience. Have you ever waged a two front war?”
“No.”
“Have you ever kept bickering noble houses from fighting each other over territory.”
“No.”
“Have you ever-”
“I get the picture.”
“Sorry, my lord.”
“And don't give me that, 'my lord' nonsense or I swear I'll leave you here for Pershing,” Chris huffed and pointed a finger.
“Unfortunately,” Nick continued ignoring Chris' displeasure, “That was one of the flaws in Archduke Peter's plan. You may have been kept safe from his enemies, but you lacked the exposure to war and politics you'd have had growing up among the nobility. The classroom makes you better than most, but even the youngest noble is more seasoned than you. You're going to need to learn quickly.”
Chris motioned back towards the camp and the two nobles walked slowly through the maze of tents.
“But from whom? Sir Aaron is a smart commander, but he spends a lot of time battling his personal demons. I don't know your grandfather, but I'm sure he's a perfectly capable leader. Lord Damien is calculating, but cares little for the feelings of his subordinates and Sir Slader-” Chris started.
“Is absolutely crazy.”
Chris barked a laugh. “That's a bit of an understatement.”
“You need to learn from all of them,” Nick said. “There is no one style that is any more correct over any other. Walk the Path to keep the people happy, and there are right ways and wrong ways to handle situations, but everyone has their own approach. You'll need to learn from all of them and more importantly learn from their mistakes and successes and understand why some things worked and others didn't. You will need to find your own voice as Archduke.”
“I was afraid you'd say that. I haven't been very successful in making decisions thus far.”
“And don't doubt yourself so much,” Nick added.
Chris exhaled sharply. Easier said than done.
The two reentered the camp and found the tent Chris shared with Claire.
“I hope Claire understands all this,” Chris said. “I know she's in a difficult position, but I need her help to get through it.”
“She will. In time maybe. You are family. Despite the current situation, family bonds are the strongest and most important, but they can break. Especially with the Stens. Power is a strong motivator, but the Sten family is the Magdeborg Commonwealth. When Sten family ties shatter, the empire shatters with them. Be mindful of that. The family can only be united again by blood.”
“I can do this,” Chris said and was surprised to find he meant it.
“You have to,” Nick said bluntly.
Chris pulled away the flap. Claire's belongings were gone, her bedroll was rolled up and in a corner of the tent and she was nowhere to be seen.
“She was just here,” Nick said, his mouth agape.
On the tiny field table was a synthpaper note. Chris picked it up, read the short missive and held it up for Nick.
The young Sørensen stared at it for a moment.
“Shit.”
Anna
1 April, 23,423
Magdeborg, Magdeborg Commonwealth
______________
The resistance camp was barely deserving of the name, Anna thought. But so far, she was rat
her impressed with the Sørensens who ran the camp. Typically, the Sørensens were very serious about their jobs as family retainers and very traditional when it came to matters of status. Centuries of careful tracing of Sten genealogy and titles tended to have that effect. As a result, the Sørensens often seemed content to ignore her. She was neither nobility nor a warrior, thus undeserving of attention.
Which is somewhat ironic, seeing as how I'm the mother of potentially the only Sten heir left alive, she thought. LK is right to conceal her identity for now. If they knew, I might never see her again. More of his poker game nonsense, but maybe it will work.
Odin and Astrid Sørensen were more pragmatic, Anna determined, based on what she'd seen from them already. As leaders of a popular resistance, the barriers between noble and subject had begun to break down. They no longer wore uniforms, but rather the dirty civilian clothes the other fighters had donned. Many still retained elements of their former lives – a few insignia and old rankings dotted the sleeves and shoulders of coats. However, the Sørensen military structure had no longer functioned as it once had. Salena's initial attack and the subsequent purging of the Conclave and hunting of the resistance had left their numbers greatly reduced.
Rebecca clutched at Anna's pants' leg. She had tried to convince the girl to stay in the tent the Sørensens had provided her, but she refused. The men with guns scared her. Anna was beginning to suspect that she was nearing wit's end. So far, she'd been cooperative despite the trying circumstances, but a military camp was nowhere for a ten-year-old. LK needed to get that shuttle prepared quickly. The longer it took, the more danger she was in.
Despite her fear, Rebecca wanted to see the destriers that the resistance kept under camouflaged netting and protected by armed guards at all times. For some reason the huge war machines fascinated her. Maybe it was the Sten obsession with killing machines making its appearance. For some reason the men with guns were scary. Maybe she remembered the Teton marines in the apartment. The guns themselves were attractive to her, though. The pilots' barracks was just a short distance away. A few of the destriers were missing, out on patrol making sure Magnus' scouts did not stumble upon their hideaway.
Rebecca smiled upon seeing the huge machines. The rumbling of their engines and the stomping feet shook the ground, bouncing the little girl. “Big metal horses,” she called them, pointing at the destriers. A few of the soldiers sent her confused looks. A few of the younger pilots waved to her, smiling broadly before continuing on their way. Perhaps seeing the young innocent face provided them with some comfort, a reason to keep fighting. Rebecca enjoyed the attention especially when one of the pilots, a young sandy blond haired gentleman let her wear his helmet. Its huge plastic mass thoroughly covered her head and most of her face. She giggled as she waved her arms around blindly.
Anna felt a hand on her elbow and looked up to see LK. He looked tired, and his face remained unshaven. Quietly, he said, “The Sørensens want to meet you.”
After a moment he looked down at Rebecca and added, “And her.”
The pilot showed Rebecca how to lower and raise the microphone while she watched intently, absorbing everything as a child did. Subconsciously, Anna worried that her military training was just beginning. Would she grow up to be just like Damien and the other Sten nobles who spent their adult lives fighting, killing and dying?
“They know then? About us?” She asked, distracting herself.
“I told them,” LK said.
“Why?” She shouted at him.
“Because they don't care about getting civilians off world. They weren't going to get you a shuttle.”
“And they listened?” She asked, her eyes bugging slightly.
“We brought them Filipov. They had to to at least hear me out.”
Anna waited several breaths before responding. “And what do they want with us? Were you able to arrange a transport?”
LK shook his head. “Not yet. They want to talk to you first. Now.”
Anna put her hand on Rebecca's head. The girl looked up, actually grinning, happy to see the giant machines. “Come on, sweetie. It's time to go.”
Rebecca pouted and looked forlornly at the destriers and the pilot who took the time to entertain her. He offered her a grin and rubbed her head affectionately. Anna thanked the young man and he tromped off to his mount. A few of his buddies mocked him and he threw a rock at one of them. Anna felt her heart sink to think of all the legions of young men killed in the name of power hungry royals, their lives cast aside like broken tools.
LK led them through the camp, passing dozens of the round yurt-like tents. The Sørensens set up their personal tent in the center of the camp. She didn't know how LK managed to actually locate it; it looked no different than any other tent. Often, nobility enjoyed planting their heraldry outside of massive tents, indicating their status and authority. However, the Sørensens had forgone any sort of markings at all. Probably a smart idea.
A single soldier stood guard. Apparently he recognized LK and stepped aside for him to enter with Anna and Rebecca in tow. The Sørensen couple sat at desks facing opposite sides of the tent. Both were busy writing, probably supply orders or old communications. In one corner of the tent was a small supply of weapons and ammunition, probably the stuff LK and the other Theorists had brought with them. Stacked against the rear of the tent was various electronic equipment and communications gear. Anna figured most of their orders would be written out in the traditional fashion and sent by carrier to avoid electronic snooping. What the equipment meant was that was someone else to communicate with, hopefully other resistance cells.
Odin Sørensen looked up first. “Anna is it? Please have a seat,” he said gesturing towards the center of the tent where several chairs had been erected.
Astrid Sørensen got up from her desk and took a seat next to her husband. She was built like a fighter but she was tall and slender, not at all like the typical stocky Sørensens.
This is going to be a test, Anna realized. They're going to collaborate my story with LK's. If there's any discrepancies we're all screwed. Just stick to the truth.
Anna took a seat and put Rebecca in her lap. She expected LK to take a seat next to her, but he was already gone. She felt suddenly and frighteningly alone.
“Your friend, this Sampson fellow told us quite a story,” Odin said. “I understand he is a former House Mason intelligence agent which creates several trust issues. The Masons have been supplying the Teton-Stens with a significant amount of military technology and soldiers. Amrah damned Harding technology,” he grumbled.
“However, bringing in Dmitri Filipov has improved his standing with us,” Astrid added without skipping a beat. “We'd like you to describe the circumstances of his capture.”
“That might require taking a few steps back,” Anna said.
The Sørensens exchanged glances and Odin nodded.
“Beginning fifteen years ago, Lord General Damien Sten and I shared a relationship. It was quiet for obvious reasons and we were very careful. Ciara died and we met again in Magdeborg. When the war with the Dominion started, Damien went to the front and we lost contact. Nine months later, Rebecca came along,” Anna explained leaving out the obvious parts.
Upon hearing her name, Rebecca looked up and smiled at the Sørensens, who regarded her curiously. Realizing that she wasn't actually needed, she went back to fumbling with the buttons on her military jacket that was many sizes too large.
“She is the daughter of Damien Sten?” Astrid asked.
“Does he know?” Odin added.
“Yes to both questions. We met again when Damien returned for Peter's funeral and I introduced him to his daughter.”
“And there were no other sexual partners?” Astrid asked.
Anna blushed. “No.”
Odin frowned. “An illegitimate child then. Not that this is particularly uncommon, but it carries with it a certain amount of concern in terms of heredity. We'll need a blood test of cou
rse.”
“I understand. Damien said there are other Sten children.” Anna gambled revealing this information.
Again the Sørensens exchanged glances. “There are. They are being guarded by our son, Nickalaus, and we believe Damien is attempting to locate them for their protection. At this point they are safer with Damien,” Astrid said.
“A strange irony that we are now responsible for his offspring and he is responsible for ours,” Odin mused quietly.
“Then you understand it is imperative that we get Rebecca off Magdeborg as soon as possible,” Anna said. It wasn't a question.
“In time. We're not finished here, yet. Please continue,” Astrid urged.
“While on Magdeborg, I discreetly organized a meeting between Damien and Conrad where they planned out their actions on the day of the funeral. Initially, we believed we would be safer with Damien's army. We thought our contact with each other to be secret. Apparently that was not the case. Filipov and a few of his thugs came to arrest us, but I killed his cronies and managed to take him hostage.”
Odin opened his mouth to say something, but Anna held up a finger. “I was trained in self defense and firearm use in the Aarhus militia. I was a member for two years before I had Rebecca. After the firefight, I called Sampson, who took us in and hid us until we came here. Damien was already gone.”
Finally, the Sørensens nodded.
“We'll have to conduct tests on your daughter to confirm your story. It won't be hard to check her DNA against that of the Sten family. We may be on the run, but we are still taking care of our sacred duty as retainers,” Astrid said.
Astrid took a swab and gently rubbed the inside of Rebecca's mouth. She placed the swab in a bio hazard bag and handed it to the soldier outside after a brief conversation. He handled the bag as if it were an Amrahn holy relic while other soldiers veered quickly out of his way as he walked through the crowds.
“If your story checks out we can arrange for a transport to get you both to a safe location off world. However, there will be a price,” Odin said.
Schism of Blood and Stone (The Starfield Theory Book 1) Page 45
