Forging Freyja - Chapter 1

Castle McCarron
Altorra
Sian Commonality
Capellan Confederation
21 April, 3148



     "I know you'll find this hard to believe now, but this is not the worst battlefield you'll face in your time, child."

     Freyja McCarron took in a slow, deep breath, then released it as a soft sigh. "I know, Aunt Cat. But that doesn't make it any less daunting. This....this is what I'm trying to avoid. This isn't me."

     The woman to her left let out a soft chuckle and blinked slowly, in that relaxing and disarming way that always made Freyja laugh at the irony of the woman's name. Catherine Black, or "Aunt Cat" as Freyja had always known her, had served as a confidante, comrade, and friend to generations of McCarron women. She was a real Nova Cat, trueborn and a veteran of the first Clan invasion, nearly 100 years ago now. She had aged gracefully, and could easily pass for a woman half her age. Though she had left the battlefield behind her, there was still a predatory, powerful, almost feline quality to her bearing still. "Child, as someone who has seen more lifetimes than you can count, trust me, you've seen far too little of your life yet to truly know who you are." She glanced toward the two large doors ahead before continuing, "But I understand the sentiment. That field of battle, the social one, isn't your natural environment. At least not yet."

     Freyja let her shoulders sink slightly. "You have a knack for speaking cryptically, Auntie. Strange for a Clan warrior."

     Cat smiled. "You forget, child, I was born Nova Cat, and we were known as mad mystics, divining the future through visions and talismans. Even after a century I am not sure how I feel about that. But I have seen enough of the past to know that often times it repeats itself."

     Freyja closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind of the worries about what lay on the other side of the two large wooden doors in front of her. She could barely hear the voices and sounds of the goings on of the other side, and she tried for a moment to block them out, seeking a final moment of peace for the evening. "You're not making yourself any clearer"

     "I've seen my share of you McCarron women. You've all been similar in some ways, different in others. You though, child, you are the very image of Faith. You have her face, her eyes, her temper. And you look exactly as I imagine she would have in your place now, had I known her at your age."

     Cat spoke of Freyja's great-grandmother, Faith. Freyja had never met her, she had died long before Freyja was born, but growing up, Cat had often told her stories of her and their adventures together. She had been a maverick, and the one who started the whole warrior branch of Freyja's family. She had built Castle McCarron nearly a century ago, and even now lay entombed deep below in the family crypt. Several generations of warrior women, and to be fair, plenty of men too, had followed her.

     And now here stood Freyja, her great-granddaughter, on her 18th birthday, ready to disappoint all those who assumed she would pick up her ancestors mantle. She would, in a way, just not the way that had been expected of her. The paperwork had already been filed, politely declining the academy spot that would have been handed to her, and no doubt the commission in the Tau Ceti Lancers alongside her mother that would have followed. No, she would not be picking up the family mantle by taking her place as part of some machine, she would do it her own way, as she had to.

     She nodded to the man who stood at the door, and he swung it open, revealing the grand ballroom beyond. Freyja stepped cautiously to the threshold, waiting for her cue to advance. The Sergeant at Arms, dressed in the uniform of the Tau Ceti Lancers, turned to face the crowd. "Ladies and Gentlemen, presenting the heiress to the Barony of Tara, the Lady Freyja McCarron!"

     Freyja took the cue and stepped through the threshold, pausing for a moment at the top of the steps to survey the crowd, as well as to give them their expected glimpse of the object of the festivities, then slowly descended the steps. Her gown fit her perfectly, as well it should, given the number of times that she had to have it fitted, but nothing about the evening would be left to chance, her mother had made sure of that. It's rich blue fabric perfectly highlighted the icy blue of her eyes. Her golden hair she wore in a long braid, highlighted with white Altorran crystals, that matched her shoes perfectly. No doubt the color combination would start a trend in the upper class fashion scene, with her mother not on planet.

     As she reached the bottom of the steps, a man in the dress uniform of a Lieutenant in McCarron's Armored Cavalry walked towards her. His expression was cold, his hair a light brown that didn't quite compliment his eyes the way Freyja's did, though they shared the same icy blue coloration. He slipped his arm in hers, and a slight smile crossed his face as he turned and led her toward the crowd. He leaned his head in slightly as he spoke, "Sister"

     Freyja mirrored his nod with her reply, "Angus."

     "You know, it's not too late to change your mind and do things properly." So that was going to be his course for the evening. Her brother, older than her by four years, had made clear his thoughts on her spurning of the traditional path set out before her.

     She kept her face the image of a graceful smile as her eyes met various of the assembled crowd, nobles, important people of business, and social creatures all. "We've been over this before, Angus. What's proper is for me to find my own way." It had been that way for most of their lives. Angus, the older brother, played the role of dutiful son, taking each step that was expected of him, and excelling at it. Freyja had bucked the path, always questioning, and more than once causing embarrassment for her parents in what she saw as the stale social scene that had become the way of life at Castle McCarron.

     "Which doesn't make it any more of a resolved issue, Freyja. Things are arranged. Mother saw to it that you'd have a good start. I know we don't always see eye to eye, but I know you have the tools to make the family proud. But instead you're going to do what? Go on some walkabout? Trade your skills as some kind of sellsword or something? Hitchhike across the Sphere with just your skills as a mechwarrior? Skills, I might add, that you haven't even been properly trained in?"

     Freyja opened her mouth to interject, but at that moment, Cat stepped in from Angus' left and subtly gave the pair reason to pause. "I do not care how old and frail I may be, Angus McCarron, I can still deal you a beating for words like that, speaking ill of my training."

     Angus deflected with a smile. "Aunt Cat, I meant no disrespect, but you of all people should know what I mean. My sister means to just take off across the Sphere, all to prove something to everyone. It's foolishness."

     "No more foolish than running off to Solaris to win fame and fortune. Or run headlong into a Blakist fortress during the fires of the Jihad to save a loved one. Or duel an entire Republic company single-handed during the Crusades. Foolishness like that runs in your blood, child."

     He scoffed, "Don't tell me you're on her side with this?"

     Cat flashed her disarming blink of the eyes before responding, "For me, there is only one side. I stand behind the McCarron's, as I always have. That meant supporting you on your path, just as it means supporting your sister on hers. You haven't the years of experience dealing with McCarron stubbornness as I have," she said with a wry smile.