Sisterhood of Suns: Daughters of Eve

by Martin Schiller

  Once she had accomplished this minor miracle, she was slated for another meeting with Ordstores. This was about an ongoing issue with their conveyor system. After that, she had a holobreifing to attend, hosted by Admiral ebed Cya and Admiral da’Kayt concerning the Fleet’s current status.

  While rank certainly had its perks, like the private mag-rail car she was using to reach her destination, the downside was mathematically equivalent. Breakfast that morning had been nothing more than a notion washed down with a cup of kaafra, lunch was only a theoretical concept, and a real dinner at the end of the day bordered on myth.

  Thanks to this hectic schedule, when her car responded to an override signal and pulled off the main line to a platform, she was glad for it, and for the reason. Lilith was waiting for her.

  “Heyas stranger,” she said as the car’s clear canopy swung open, “Want a ride? I’m going as far as the Fore Lifts.”

  “Actually, I was hoping that I could catch you before the briefing,” Lilith replied. She was smiling, but it was clear that she had something serious on her mind.

  Katrinn slid over to make room. “What’s going on, Lily?”

  Ever since the end of their conflict with the ETR (which she still couldn’t bring herself to call a ‘war’), Lilith had become more and more withdrawn, and she hoped that this would finally be their chance to talk about whatever it was, and to offer her her help. If Lilith allowed it.

  Lilith sighed as the car started down the track again, and then after a pause, answered her. “Kat, I’ve decided. I’m leaving the Athena.”

  Katrinn swallowed hard and sent a thought to the car, pulling them off the main line again. Suddenly she didn’t care about her meetings, or even the briefing. Although she had just heard it with her own ears, she couldn’t believe it.

  “Off the Athena? You’re leaving? Have you told Mearinn about this yet? Ellyn? Have you talked with the Ship’s High Priestess?”

  Ophida n’Marsi, might have managed to talk Lilith out of this decision, but she was gone now, and Lilith and the new High Priestess had never managed to achieve the same close relationship. Even so, there was still the off chance that Ophida’s replacement could wield some influence.

  Lilith looked away, composing herself as one of the larger communal trains passed them by. “No, I haven’t told anyone else yet. I wanted you to be the first to know. This has been on my mind for quite a while.’

  “I‘m just tired. I’ve been on the line for too long. This war--“she hesitated, “--this last war proved that to me. It’s time I flew a desk, Kat. Downside.”

  Katrinn couldn’t really argue with this. She had known Lilith for nearly a decade, and she had seen her friend change over the years, and although Lilith’s body didn’t show any of the outward signs, she had also watched her age.

  Lilith ben Jeni had served the Sisterhood all through the bloody War of the Prophet. When that slaughter had ended, she had gone on to fight Hriss renegades, T’lakskalan slavers and smugglers on the frontier. After that, she had been sent to help save the ETR from Hriss conquest, only to be compelled to conquer it when their allies had turned on them. The return of her daughter Sarah, and the death of Alex Rodraga, must have been the final blows, Katrinn decided. That, and finding love at last with Ingrit.

  Lilith had every right to feel tired, and to want something else for herself. But that didn’t mean that as her friend, she had to be happy with the situation.

  “The Athena won’t be the same without you, Lily,” she said. “Da’Kayt won’t like seeing you go either. Or Ebed Cya.”

  “I know that Kat,” Lilith replied, giving her hand an apologetic squeeze. “And I feel terrible about this, but Ebed Cya doesn’t really need me out here. She can use me to better effect on Rixa, or maybe at the Academy. Da’Kayt has Ben Biya and N’Leesa, and there are plenty of good Commanders who could be promoted if she really needs another Vice Admiral to fill my spot.”

  A mischievous smile suddenly came over Lilith’s face, reminding Katrinn of happier times. “Maybe even you.”

  “Oh no!” Katrinn demurred with mock seriousness. “Not for all the Credits in the universe. I’m still getting my space legs settled as a Commander! The last thing I need is another star weighing me down!”

  The two of them laughed together about this, and then abruptly, Katrinn leaned forwards and gave her a fierce hug. “Goddess, Lily, I’m going to miss you so much!”

  When they let go, neither of them had dry eyes.

  As Lilith wiped her tears away, she added. “There is one good thing about all this, Kat. As soon as I can, I’m going to marry Ingrit. I’ve kept her waiting for far too long.”

  More tears flowed from Katrinn’s eyes at this announcement, but now they were from joy. “Oh Lily!” she said, embracing her again. “I’m so happy for you two! Goddess, this is such crazy news—I’m happy but I’m sad, but I’m happy, but I’m sad! You sure know how to confuse a girl!”

  Grunvaald Haarmaaneplaatz, Vaalkenstaad Township, Zommerlaand, Sunna 3, Solara Elant, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1048.07|15|01:96:43

  In the predawn hour, the woods surrounding the farm were still. The only interruption was the occasional cry of a night martin calling for its mate, and the sound of Grammy’s footfalls as she walked up the path to the lake. Since she had been a small girl, this time of day, and twilight, had always been her favorites; they were neither night nor day, and the entire world seemed to be filled with infinite possibilities.

  Her teacher had always referred to this liminal period as the ‘time between the worlds’—the points where the normal rules of existence didn’t apply. They were when the Segen were the clearest, and the Sight, it’s sharpest.

  As always, Old Meg was there to share this with her, and Grammy paused and smiled up at her companion. The raven had been following her progress from the branches overhead and when the bird saw that the old woman had stopped, it chattered down at her. The creature was as eager as she was to reach their special place and her impatience only widened Grammy’s grin.

  “We’ll get there, old friend. Never fear,” she said. “I’m just not as quick as I used to be.”

  This earned her a harsh caw of reproof, and Grammy laughed and resumed her march. Old Meg was none too spry herself, she observed; in avian years the bird was nearly the same age as she was, and although the raven was certainly able to fly to the next limb and have enough energy left over to scold her, she did so with less power, and for far shorter stretches than she once had. Neither of them were as nimble as they once had been, Grammy admitted. Their hearts were still young, but their bodies had gradually lagged behind their desires.

  Several minutes later, she caught sight of the lake and the first faint glow of daybreak on the horizon. It banished all thoughts of age or mortality. She had arrived at their special place, the spot where she habitually came to greet the morning, and cast the Maarken.

  In younger days, she had simply used a bare patch of earth near the shore to scratch out a rough casting circle for herself. Now, thanks to Ingrit, a chair and a small wooden table were waiting for her. They were old, but sturdy things that had been brought up when she had finally been unable to hide the discomfort she experienced from rising to her feet.

  Creaky old furniture for a creaky old woman, she thought wryly.

  While she wiped away the dew from the chair, Old Meg landed on the table and waddled over, chattering in anticipation. Just like their ascent to the lake, this was all part of their morning ritual, and the creature wasn’t about to let her forget.

  Shaking her head knowingly, Grammy opened her pack. Inside, was a piece of cornbread and some cheese, and as Meg hopped around expectantly, she broke off a generous piece and set it down. The bird immediately consumed it all, and then eyed her with a sideways glance to see if any more might be forthcoming. Chuckling at her naked greed, the old woman tore off another portion and set it out for her. She knew that she was spoiling her friend, but she had never be
en able to resist Meg when she got like this.

  Once she had finished with her own meal and shared a little of it with the Alfs, she brushed away all of the crumbs and brought out a simple bandana from her pack, spreading it on the table.

  Then she withdrew a worn leather pouch. It contained the sacred Maarken themselves, etched into bone disks by hand, and dyed many years earlier with her own blood. Holding this over the table, she made the traditional sign of Tor’s Haamer and uttered a prayer to the Alte Volk, asking them for clear counsel.

  Next, she reached inside the bag, and without looking, grabbed up nine of the carved disks. Dropping them on the table, she regarded them, and the pattern that they made as a group, with great care. What they told her tallied with what she had been sensing for weeks, and their message brought another smile to her wrinkled face.

  The Maarken for travel, a stylized image of a horse, sat alongside the ancient stick-figure symbol for a person, and it was followed by the pictograph for joy, and the one for union. Someone was coming, and Grammy already knew who it was.

  “Well, Lilith, you certainly took long enough to get around to your business,” she said, more in affection than irritation. From her corner, Old Meg eyed the symbols on the table and chittered in agreement.

  Grammy read on. The Maarken for happiness and fertility came next, but she also saw the symbols for strife and danger. These things would come later, and after them, victory.

  She was too seasoned a wise woman to do anything but accept this, and didn’t press the matter by casting the bones a second time. The Gods tended to become angry when their messages were questioned by mortals. Instead, she thanked them for the insight that they had granted her.

  Her session with the Maarken was not done however. She had a second question that she needed to ask. It was about something much more important, and further reaching in its implications; it concerned the Sisterhood itself, and events that were about to unfold.

  This time the Maarken that dropped onto the casting cloth were filled with dire warnings about the troubles that lay ahead, but again, despite their ominous nature, she saw victory and harmony prevailing in the end.

  Despite everything, Womankind would survive the terrible challenges it was destined to face. It was a hard road to be sure, filled with more valleys than peaks, and there was a great deal of death and chaos all along its length, but it ended well. No matter what, the Gods would watch over them.

  Letting out a long sigh of relief, she looked over to Old Meg.

  “Well,” she said to the bird in their special language. “That’s that then. You know where she’ll be. When she comes, make sure she reaches us safely.”

  Meg gave out a loud caw of agreement, and then with a mighty flap of her wings, flew off to begin her day.

  Grammy watched her companion until she had flown out of sight. When the bird was gone, she gathered up all her things and rose stiffly. She had preparations to make. The future deserved to be greeted properly.

  ***

  Admiral ebed Cya greeted Lilith’s decision with the same mixed emotions that Katrinn had. She wasn’t overjoyed at the idea of losing a good field officer, but they had both known, from the very instant that Lilith had been promoted to Vice Admiral, that her days of active command would eventually come to an end.

  Ebed Cya also wasn’t entirely unhappy. The Navy needed good teachers for its officer cadets, and Ebed Cya always welcomed having allies who could serve alongside her. Far from being a ‘sisterly’ organization at the very top, the Flag Officers had their own battles to fight; resources were precious and every Fleet, and every Admiral in charge of those Fleets, wanted the best for themselves. Notwithstanding the fact that she would be doing most of her work from her home on Zommerlaand, Lilith would be a valuable asset.

  The formal orders for her reassignment were transmitted barely twenty minutes after their conversation, and Lilith herself was given seven Standard days to get her affairs in order.

  On her last day aboard the Athena, she took the Lifts to the bridge. Katrinn was there. Knowing why she had come, her former Second vacated the Command Chair, and with a small smile of gratitude, Lilith sat down in it for what was to be the last time.

  As she did so, Katrinn retreated to a respectful distance, to give her the moment alone. She understood how hard it was going to be for Lilith to leave the ship behind. Her friend needed the chance to say goodbye to the vessel.

  For a long moment, Lilith surveyed the bridge and the crewwomen working quietly at their stations. Then she shut her eyes and let the memories come; of all the hardships and the dangers that she had shared with these women as their Commander and then their Vice Admiral, and equally, of all the good times that they had enjoyed.

  At last, and when she felt ready, she stood, giving the chair and all it represented, an affectionate pat before walking with Katrinn to the Lifts. On the way, several of the techs rose from their places and exchanged salutes with her. She knew every one of them, and she made certain to acknowledge them as she passed. They had been, in a very real sense, her family and deserved this recognition.

  The trip down to the Egress deck took place in silence, and when the car opened, all of the ship’s senior officers were waiting for her, lining the passageway to either side. Beyond them a detachment of Marines stood in two lines, forming an honor guard.

  Everyone was in their finest uniforms, and as Lilith stepped towards them, Mearinn d’Rann, now Katrinn’s Second, called the assembly to attention. “Admiral on deck!”

  As one, the group turned, saluting Lilith smartly as the troopers snapped to attention. Lilith suddenly found herself embroiled in a desperate fight to retain her composure. She had sworn not to cry, or to allow any doubts to creep in, but now her emotions threatened to overcome her.

  ‘I’m doing the right thing,’ she reminded herself firmly. It was Katrinn’s turn to lead, and a new life was awaiting her on Zommerlaand. A life with Ingrit, and a chance for some real peace. Resolute, she strode to the Egress hatch and stopped just short of the thin yellow line that formally demarcated the vessel from the rest of the universe. Then she turned on her heels and performed the final step in the ritual that would formally renounce her claim on the Pallas Athena as her flagship, and return it to its mistress.

  “Commander Bertasdaater,” she said, giving Katrinn a crisp salute, “the ship is yours. Take good care of the old girl, will you?”

  “I will, Vice Admiral ben Jeni,” her friend replied. “You take care of my sister.” Then Katrinn turned and gestured to a group of women that Lilith hadn’t really noticed. They were led by a grinning Saara sa’Vika, and pushing something forwards that was covered over by a grey marine-issue tarp.

  “The crew wanted to make certain that you knew about this,” the Kalian said, and when Lilith looked to Katrinn for an explanation, the woman only shrugged, and smiled. This was Sa’Vika’s signal, and the tarp was ceremoniously removed.

  Underneath, was Lilith’s old rocking chair. Originally a gift from Katrinn herself, it had received a fresh coat of polish and some new additions.

  There were pillows on it now, with the Athena’s signature owl and her naval registration number embroidered on them, and a matching comforter. When it was turned around for her to see it, the back side carried a brass plaque which read, “From the grateful crew of the USSNS Pallas Athena, SBC 1323 and Battle Group Golden. You will always be our Commander.”

  “Everyone chipped in,” Katrinn explained. “We didn’t want you to forget us.”

  Lilith’s stoicism completely crumbled. “I could never forget you,” she declared, her voice breaking with emotion. “Any of you.”

  With that, all traces of formality vanished, and Katrinn and the other officers came forwards to exchange hugs, and well wishes with their former leader. More than a few of them, Lilith saw, were wiping away tears of their own.

  At last, and when everyone had said their farewells, the rocking chair was re-tarped for
shipment, and Lilith ben Jeni stepped across the yellow line, and into her future.

  USSNS Pallas Athena, Battle Group Golden, Topaz Fleet, In Orbit, Pico Assta, Felaar System, Reganna Provensa, Esteral Terrana Rapabla 1048.07|17|08:39:01

  Battle Group Golden had assumed a high orbit over the world of Pico Assta. It was visiting the planet on its patrol of the Reganna Provensa, which in turn was part of a larger and ongoing display of Sisterhood naval might in the ETR. With the ship on low-alert status, Dana bel Hanna found herself with what, in her former state as a normal woman, could have been called ‘free time.’ Her sister vessels were enjoying the same status, and as they often did during such lulls, they spoke with one another.

  Their conversations tended to center on a wide variety of subjects, ranging from the true nature of the Divine, to an examination of galactic history. Sometimes, these dialogues could become rather lively; all of the personality matrixes enjoyed a good debate, and today this was exactly what the Pallas Athena’s matrix had in mind. At her suggestion, they were discussing the present state, and the future of the Sisterhood in the light of its contact with the ETR.

  “I submit,” Bel Hanna began, “that the Sisterhood has reached a nexus of choice that all true empires face. One that will decide whether it will survive in its present form, or fall. This choice has been thrust upon it by two factors; its ongoing contact with the Esteral Terrana Rapabla and the recent discord with the Marionite faction.”

  The matrix aboard the Demeter responded. “I would certainly agree that the ETR is a potentially important influence on our culture. There is no question that their society presents a challenge to our basic way of life. But the Marionites? Surely they are too small a force to cause any significant impact.”