Sisterhood of Suns: Pallas Athena

by Martin Schiller

  Now that she had her confirmation, she could see the reason for such silence. Things were bad in Sagana, and it seemed very likely that they were about to get much worse.

  “We believe that the Hriss objective is to gauge our strengths and weaknesses through an aggressive program of reconnaissance-by-fire, just as they did at Persephone,” Ebed Cya said. “Naval Command feels that unless we demonstrate a strong display of force in reply, the next phase may be an all-out invasion of the territory, with fleet-sized forces.’

  “Such an incursion, if it occurred, would lead to another interstellar war between our two races. If that comes to pass, the public will call for nothing less than total war--and the absolute annihilation of the Hriss as a species.’

  “Ladies, the average woman is tired, and she will ask us to do the unthinkable. There will be no treaties this time, no settlement that will lead to a betrayal. She will demand that we enforce the ultimate peace, which can only come when there is no enemy left to fight. It will also cost us many lives to make that a reality. I for one, desperately hope that such a conflict can be avoided.’

  “The path that we will ultimately take rests on your shoulders alone, and the unfavorable publicity that we received from the Persephone affair only underscores the grave nature of your mission. The public is clamoring for action, and the Supreme Circle has commanded it.”

  Lilith felt a chill go down her spine. War, she thought. Will it come to that again? In the 1,042 years of its existence, the Sisterhood had fought four wars with the Hriss already.

  The First Widow’s War had repelled their invasion and engendered the birth of the Sisterhood. The Second Widow’s War had seen the Hriss Imperial Navy decimated, ushering in the expansion of the Sisterhood into new regions of space. But the War of the Bandit and the War of the Prophet had been fought to keep a check on the rogue clans and renegade elements that had risen up in the aftermath to seize power.

  The peace since the War of the Prophet had been uneasy and fragile, and although the Sisterhood had been the victor in every conflict with the Hriss, those triumphs had been bought at a terrible cost.

  Will there ever be a true peace? she wondered. She could see why the Sisterhood at large, hating these clashes, would want genocide, and like the Admiral, she dreaded that possibility.

  “Ladies,” the Admiral continued, “your mission will be two-fold in nature. Your first objective will be to project our naval power into the Sagana Territory and destroy any and all hostile forces that you might encounter there.’

  “Your second objective will be to help the outer colonies increase their defensive capabilities and their level of preparedness. To this end, a special detachment of Marines, the 233rd Combat Engineers, will be accompanying you on your patrol, along with the supplies and weaponry that they will require for the task.’

  “I would like to tell you that your mission will be an easy one, but I cannot. It is highly likely that you will be forced to engage enemy forces comparable to, or even superior to your own.’

  “In addition, you may not always get the cooperation that you might otherwise expect from the colonies that you visit. Although the public at large is unaware of it, for some time now, a number of the worlds in the territory have formed a loose association calling itself the Rampart. To explain this organization to you, I will now turn the briefing over to Wila bel Jeanna of the Agency for External Affairs.”

  Lilith’s eyes narrowed in displeasure as she recalled Bel Jeanna’s role in the matter of Captain D’Orsi and the Spacewitch. Still, she made herself pay attention. As much as she disliked the OAE, knowledge was power when it came to situations as volatile as the one in Sagana, and every bit of information had value—regardless of the source.

  Bel Jeanna rose from her place and stood before the assembly. “Thank you, Admiral. Ladies, the Rampart was formed to help coordinate the common defense of its member worlds, and as a means to give them a more organized voice and better representation. But within this group, there are extremist elements that you should be aware of.’

  “Some of these elements have actually proposed secession from the Sisterhood, and advocate a policy of arming themselves to a level that is well beyond what the Concordance deems either appropriate, or legal.’

  “Towards that end, we have seen an increasing number of smugglers bringing military grade weapons into the area, and we have interrupted several attempts to secure heavy weapons from both Sisterhood sources, and from neighboring races.’

  “To make matters worse, other dissident members have even gone so far as to suggest capitulation to the Hriss, or even outright alignment with them. Fortunately, these elements are a very tiny minority with no general support.’

  “But the fact that such drastic changes are even being discussed highlights the serious state of affairs that we are dealing with. Our agency will be providing you with detailed information on these groups, and the individuals involved. Thank you for your time.” Bel Jeanna returned to her seat and the Admiral took over the briefing again.

  “Thank you for your information, ma’am,” she said to the agent, “We appreciate your agency’s invaluable assistance and we will look forwards to receiving that data from you.”

  She addressed Lilith and her staff next. “Because of this highly unstable climate, you should be aware that the worlds that you visit may prove resistant to your efforts, and may even go so far as to reject your assistance. For your mission to be a success, it will require all of your skills as diplomats, and should you encounter Hriss forces, as fighters.’

  “Regardless of the obstacles, or the opposition you encounter, you must prevail. Peace utterly depends on it. May the Goddess watch over you and grant you success. You are dismissed.”

  Everyone in the room made the Lady’s sign and stood. There was none of the normal chitchat that usually followed a briefing. Instead, they filed out of the Admiral’s Office in silence, deeply sobered.

  ***

  Lilith and her command staff were not the only members of her ship to be briefed about the mission to the Sagana Territory. Shortly after the meeting in Admiral ebed Cya’s office had concluded, Ophida N' Marsi received a coded signal on her psiever, informing her that Willa bel Jeanna wanted to speak with her via encrypted holo.

  At the time the message reached her, the priestess was in her private office researching the exorcism ceremony for the alleged ghost on deck 12. But as important as the rite was, she had been waiting to hear from Bel Jeanna, and set an electronic bookmark in the text. She brought up her com terminal and entered her private code.

  Bel Jeanna’s image appeared immediately. Never one to waste time with idle banter, the woman got straight to the point. “Good afternoon, Reverend,” she said. “The Athena is being sent on a very sensitive mission to the Sagana Territory, and you and your agents will be playing a vital role during that patrol.”

  “I see,” Ophida replied. “What is the situation?”

  Bel Jeanna provided her with the same overview of the Rampart that she had presented to Lilith and her officers, including the briefing on its dissident elements. Then she focused on Ophida’s specific role.

  “Naturally, the Agency is concerned about interference from the dissidents, which we believe, may range from simple non-cooperation to outright sabotage. Your station will be charged with the job of making contact with our assets in Sagana and determining the level of threat.’

  “If you find that it is substantial enough to impede the battle group’s mission, then your task will be to neutralize any of the elements involved. Towards this end, our assets in the area will be instructed to provide whatever assistance you need, and if you require it, we can also furnish you with any specialists to deal with any particularly difficult problem areas.” Which in plain Standard, meant assassins.

  “Do we have any individuals in particular that we need to be concerned about?” Ophida asked.

  “Yes,” Bel Jeanna nodded. “I am uploading the inte
l files on several key figures that may require special attention, but until we are certain that they intend any action that could impede the situation, they are only on your watch list.”

  Several holos appeared along side Bel Jeanna’s image, along with their information. Ophida only glanced at them, planning to study the case files in detail after their meeting was over. “Was there anything else?”

  “Yes,” Bel Jeanna answered. “We were curious about the neoman. What have your agents observed so far?”

  “The greatest issue that we have encountered is his acceptance with the crew,” Ophida informed her. “However, Fa‘Teela seems to be remarkably patient with the abuse he has received, and I believe that this may be supported by his religious belief system. In terms of his work performance, he is doing everything that is asked of him and has strictly adhered to all procedures.”

  “A model Marine then?” Bel Jeanna asked. There was a note of doubt in her voice that Ophida shared. “We know that the Marionites sent him out as a missionary, and there is a strong probability that he may also be acting as a covert agent. Have you had any indication that he has received clandestine communications from them, or that he appears to be acting under any orders?”

  “None,” Ophida said. “Since he came aboard, he has not been contacted by anyone, and he keeps to himself. Because of that, I have had Dr. elle’Kaari initiate a relationship with him, and according to her report, she has managed to win his trust. With her in place, I am reasonably assured that we will be able to spot any subversive activities. In addition I have a watch set for any communications that he receives.”

  “Good. Continue to monitor him,” Bel Jeanna instructed. “And good luck in Sagana.”

  Necropolis Ruins, Ashkele Free Port, Hallasa System, Frontier Zone, Xee Protectorate, 1043.01|30|07:69:24

  Zara guided their rented hovertruck through the debris-strewn path, choosing her course with care. This far out into the ruins there was little chance of getting a tow if a fan blade broke or the anti-grav units failed. Bel Lissa and Sarah sat up front with her, and Maya was in the back, wedged in between a cargo container and their guest, who was also a rental.

  Captain bel Lissa had insisted on hiring the robot for the meeting. There was simply no telling what their customers would do, and Gun 501 was a safegaurd against any treachery.

  Despite the need, Maya still felt uneasy sitting next to the machine and when the hovertruck dipped into a low spot and she brushed up against its matte black armor, the physical contact made her skin crawl. As far as she was concerned, the sooner they were done with their meeting and had parted company with the Gun, the better.

  The hovertruck had entered a large square by this point, and Zara stopped to consult a map on the windshield’s HUD. Most of the Necropolis was uncharted, and the fragmentary map had been purchased from a rather dubious Xee merchant who had guaranteed its accuracy. The alien had sworn that it was an updated copy of a copy of a copy of the one produced by the National Astrographic Societies’ famous archaeological expedition over 350 years earlier.

  This had been a lie however; the Xee had occupied the planet for eons and they had always forbidden any non-Xee from mapping the Necropolis, even representatives of the illustrious Society. Ostensibly this was for religious reasons, but in reality, they had instituted this prohibition in order to hoard any profits that might otherwise have been garnered from map sales to outsiders.

  Not that Bel Lissa and her party had had any alternatives to choose from. Few maps, even Xee versions, were available. The Xee were more comfortable wandering the ruins without them, and claimed that their strange Gods led them along the proper paths without the need for such mundane tools. This was probably also a complete fabrication, but no one had ever had a reason, or the inclination, to ferret out the truth.

  “Well?” Bel Lissa asked.

  Zara squinted at the symbols on the plastic windshield. “According to the map, we’re in Square 4765. Temple 8033-A should be about a kilometer from us, on a heading of 199.5 degrees, but it looks like we’ll have to take a detour up ahead, so I’ll need to recalculate our route.”

  She pointed towards a large building of unknown function that had partially collapsed onto the street. Maya turned in her seat, craning her neck for a view and it was immediately apparent that the debris pile was far too high for the hovertruck to simply climb over.

  After a few more moments of study, Zara restarted the vehicle and took them west down a narrow side street. The ruins there were tall, and closely packed, and Maya eyed them nervously. Quite a few of the structures towering over them looked as if they were unstable enough to come crashing down with even the slightest vibration.

  As they negotiated the gloomy passage, a few small pieces of masonry did fall down around them, and Maya held her breath. But the hovertruck made it through the gap safely and entered another open square.

  And not a moment too soon. Zara was just turning the vehicle back onto the correct heading when there was a loud rumble from behind them.

  A thick cloud of dust belched out from the street that they just exited from, obscuring the full extent of the collapse, but from the sound of it, and what she saw spilling out, the girl knew that it had been fairly substantial.

  Zara looked back over her shoulder at the rubble with casual unconcern. “Ah wells,” she remarked, “I suppose we’ll have to find a new way home around that.” For some reason, everyone except Maya thought that this was extremely funny.

  They arrived at their destination several blocks, and a few more hair-raising passages, later. It was another large square, and parked in the middle of it was a low, tracked vehicle. The machine was armored and it sported a single gun turret on its roof.

  When their hovertruck came to a halt, an egress hatch on the alien vehicle popped open. An armed Hriss Warrior stepped out of it and the turret on the roof rotated around and brought its armament to bear.

  The robot sitting next to Maya reacted to this immediately. It came to life and stepped off the back of the truck, turning its fearsome eye towards the Hriss and its vehicle.

  “Drop your weapon and power down your vehicle,” it ordered in a flat metallic voice, repeating the same order in Hriss’ka. The Hriss did not hesitate, and promptly put his weapon onto the ground. The turret gun also complied, turning away from the ebony guardian as if it hadn’t really been interested in a fight after all.

  “I am Gun number 501,” the robot announced. “I am the rental of these creatures. For the duration of this meeting, no weapons will be allowed. Violators will be vaporized.”

  Whatever reservations Maya had harbored about the thing’s presence fled her. Gun 501 had just proven that it was more than worth every credit that they’d spent to rent it from the Xee.

  Gingerly, the Hriss stepped away from his weapon and walked closer to the hovertruck, keeping his arms spread wide. Maya was familiar with what a Hriss looked like from realies and holovid shows, but until that very moment, she had never actually encountered one in the flesh.

  The creature had two arms, and was bipedal, and as she observed him more carefully, she noted a six-fingered hand, which was accompanied by that great tool of advanced evolution, an opposing thumb. This, though, was where any resemblance between their two races ended entirely.

  The Hriss standing in front of her was much taller than the average woman, and powerfully built. Where weapons harnesses and additional body armor wasn’t covering it, his body was protected by a hard exoskeleton. Its surface was rough and pitted, and tan-brown in color, with touches of deep red where the creature’s jointed shell formed edges, or ridges.

  It was his head though, that commanded her attention. This was a broad flat plate that narrowed down sharply to meet with his mandibles. Seeing it, it was obvious where the derogatory nickname, shovelhead, had gotten its genesis. The creature’s flat skull did slightly resemble a shovel blade, she realized, but only just. From what she remembered from the realies that she’d
seen, a Hriss was recognizable as a noble from the shape and the extent of his skull plate. The larger and broader the plate, she recalled, the higher the rank of the individual in a Hriss clan-sept. Or at least that was how she thought it went.

  The creature returned her two-eyed gaze with four of his own; two primary eyes set inside deep, ridged sockets, and two smaller, secondary ones set in shallower depressions above these. All of the eyes glowed faintly with a sickly yellow-white color that she had heard somewhere was created by a form of internal bioluminescence.

  Supposedly, the glow gave the Hriss some natural advantage in their native environment. Whether this was true or not, the effect, coupled with the shadows cast by his deep eye sockets, was sinister and chilling, and this was compounded when the Hriss did something very human. It blinked.

  Maya shuddered involuntarily, finding the Hriss every bit the ugly and threatening creature she’d expected, and she easily appreciated why the Sisterhood had fought four wars with his kind. The thing was a monster out of nightmare.

  Her reaction seemed to amuse the brute, and he exposed his long fighting claws, and flexed them. Maya refused to let herself be cowed though, and stared straight back at him. In response, the creature let out a sound that seemed to be a cross between a cough and a clicking noise, and Maya realized instinctively that he was laughing at her.

  Captain bel Lissa however, was totally unfazed. She got out of the hovertruck and walked straight up to the Warrior, addressing him in pidgin Hriss’ka. Maya’s psiever supplied her with a rough translation.

  “G’nar’varkka, we are here, oh eater of your enemies flesh,” Bel Lissa said “to be enriched by the trading of weapons in exchange for the spoils of battle that you have honorably torn from your enemies hands. We have brought you a portion of the sample you requested and we expect a proper share in return.”