***
Alvaraada waited until the Sisterhood hovertank had passed overhead before he risked sitting up and glancing at his wrist chrono. As much as he wanted to, the numbers on the display couldn’t be disputed. Roza, Reesy, and the others he had been waiting for, were late.
Too late for the delay to mean anything more than the very worst. He had heard the last few desperate transmissions as the Sisterhood soldiers had counterattacked, and now he had to admit the terrible truth. The ambush had failed and they were all dead.
With hands moving like someone half-asleep or drugged, he started the ‘lectri, and pulled out of the shadows. It took all of his will to focus himself enough to drive away from the area.
He didn’t go back to the safe house, or even his small shop. Instead, he did something he hadn’t done in over two decades of sobriety. He sought out the nearest store, bought himself a bottle of Vigorosa, and parked where he knew he wouldn’t be bothered. Then he drank down its contents, alternately toasting the memory of his fallen comrades, and cursing the Sisterhood to every hell he could think of. That, and weeping like a child.
Eventually, the darkness took pity on him and gathered him in its embrace. Alvaraada went into it willingly; he knew that the morning would come, and that he would be compelled to carry on the fight for another day.
And if he were truly blessed, there was even the chance that he would be allowed to die fighting for his nation. For now though, all that mattered, all that he wanted for himself, was oblivion.
***
Team 201 didn’t make it back to their barracks for another 72 hours. Right on the heels of the ambush, fierce fighting broke out throughout many of the ETR’s major population centers, and Nuvo Bolivar received the brunt of it. The Loyalistas had attacked in large numbers and dozens of important locations were assaulted, not the least of which had been Claire d’Layne. The base had fought off a series of suicide bombers trying to breach its gates, followed by multiple rocket attacks and small arms fire. Even Jyon Vaargas had been forced to close when the insurgents had begun firing indiscriminately at spaceships attempting to take off or land.
One area of the capitol had been particularly hard hit, and had struck back with equal viciousness. This had been in the Dann neighborhoods where the local gangs had engaged the Loyalistas in bloody street fights, exacting a stiff price from them for their trespassing.
Kaly had personally witnessed the gruesome aftermath of these slaughters. To serve as a warning against any future incursions, the gangs had left their enemy’s corpses hanging on the lampposts all around the limits of the Dho Haak.
She had also encountered something even darker. At the edge of one of the capitol’s more remote suburbs, the Team had walked by a large open pit, filled with what the Republican soldiers had claimed were the bodies of Loyalistas killed during the fighting.
The only thing wrong about all this had been the fact that many of these supposed ‘insurgents’ had had their hands tied behind their backs, and the majority of them had been shot in the head or the neck. From behind.
The dirt on their knees, and the few that were still wearing their blindfolds hadn’t helped to support the lie. Or that many of the victims had been too young, or too old, to have ever fought anyone. The pit was a place for the flies, for death, and for evil deeds that would never be redressed.
By the time that she and her team stumbled in for their debrief, martial law was in effect in the ETR. Most of the major fires were either out, or under control, and there were only isolated pockets of resistance that the ETR Army and Sisterhood Marines were still in the process of rooting out, including and espcially, in the Aljofar District.
Major ebed Karri and Lieutenant ben Soolee were waiting for them, looking just as tired as they were. The officers had been in the Embassy’s COMINT center around the clock, directing the action and calling in supporting strikes, but they had still taken the time to change into fresh uniforms, and had kaafra and hot food waiting.
Instead of leaving the debrief for the PTS system to handle, they conducted it themselves, and afterwards, went on to share what they had learned. Counting numbers alone, it had been a clear victory for the Sisterhood and the Ernan government. Hundreds of Loyalistas had been killed, with thousands more wounded, and in custody. In addition, tons of illegal weapons and explosives had been captured and destroyed.
Despite these successes though, the event had still dealt the Sisterhood forces a hard blow, and nowhere was this felt more keenly than among the SRU Teams, and especially Kaly’s unit. Up to then, they had never suffered a single casualty.
Now twelve women and two men were dead. Most of them had been victims of the rocket that had hit the lead assault shuttle, but five had perished in Kaly’s ship; Cabo Vasquaaz, Sarjenta Pera, Soldada Mendaz, Warrant Officer Judi n’Sali and her hapless co-pilot, Corporal Tarra t’Kim.
These were all people that Kaly had known, and worked with. N’Sali and T’Kim had flown her team on many of their Ops, and although she hadn’t grown as close to the Specia soldiers as she had with the Garda fighters, their loss still cut deeply. The only ‘good’ thing about any of it--if anyone could have even employed such a term--was that everyone had died quickly. Vasquaaz and the men had been trapped in their harnesses, and asphyxiation had claimed them. N’Sali and T’Kim had died instantly in the cockpit explosion. It was cold consolation, but Kaly had learned by this point not to expect anything kinder from the universe when it came to war.
But she wasn’t half as affected by all this as Margasdaater was. The woman listened to the Major’s report with a stoic professionalism, and when the meeting ended, headed straight for her rack, saying nothing to anyone. She didn’t need to. The entire team knew what she was going through.
During their tour, Margasdaater and Vasquaaz had become friends, and there had been whispers that their relationship had gone even further than that. And all through the street fighting, the Zommerlaandar hadn’t talked about the woman’s death to anyone. They, in turn, had given her all the privacy that she had required.
With the mission over, it was obvious that she was finally letting her guard down and coming to terms with her loss. This was something that every veteran learned to do; when the bolts were ripping by, they did their jobs. They held on, shut down their weaknesses and pushed them into a quiet little corner where they couldn’t interfere with the task of staying alive.
Until the shooting was over, and it was finally safe to feel something. That was when everything caught up.
Kaly let Margasdaater have a few minutes to herself before she went to her. She found her in her rack, nursing a bottle of Aqqa, and wrapped in her quilted Opfgaveyr blanket. On Astrid’s motherworld, the families of servicewomen made these ‘Going Away’ blankets to remind their loved ones of home, and for times like this, when they needed the comfort. She had gathered it around herself, and looked up at Kaly with pain-filled eyes.
“You know, Kaly,” she said, her voice distorted from the alcohol, “I never zhought zat zings vould be like zis. Za vomyn who went n’zen came back--zey told me, but I didn’t listen.” She slammed her big fist onto the bed. “I never fekking listened. I zhould haf listened to zem.”
Kaly nodded, recalling the warning she had been given on the day she had decided to enlist in the Marines.
“You vant vhat I’ve had?” the veteran had challenged, “You vant maybe a little blood? A little killing, zaat it? You think you can handle zaat, little girl?” She had said yes, and quite rightly, the trooper had laughed in her face, calling her a fool. The trooper had been right.
“I never zhought about za friends zat I’d lose,” Margasdaater said bitterly, taking another pull from the bottle. “It vas just all vun big adventure. Not zis shess.” She looked into Kaly’s eyes with a deep, mournful expression. “Now I zink zat maybe itz gonna be time vor me to go home zoon--and ztay zere.”
At last, her voice broke completely. “I miss her, Kaly. I miss zem all
.”
Kaly didn’t know what to say. Nothing felt like it would be enough. In the end, all she could do was put her arm around the big woman, and hold her.
Claire d’Layne Naval Base, Nuvo Bolivar, Magdala Provensa, Esteral Terrana Rapabla, 1048.10|22|06:25:25
Team 201, and several of the other units that had been in the fighting, gathered in the Mess Hall. They had come there to observe a ritual which by now had become all too familiar. The same Marine who had done the original work on Kaly’s nanotat was waiting for them with her equipment, and she added the names of Vasquaaz, Pera and Mendaz to Kaly’s arm, along with the two pilots.
But Kaly had one more thing that she wanted the woman to make for her. She had seen it on some of the Marine Troopers around the base. It was far less elaborate than her other nanotat, and she had it put on her forearm where anyone could see it. It was only a single word; “Invadiya”, Invader.
When her turn came, Margasdaater asked for the same thing, and so did the others. And even though Major ebed Karri and Lieutenant ben Soolie frowned at the new tattoos when they came in for their briefing, they didn’t make anyone remove them. Despite the fact that RSE policy specifically forbade imagery like this, the officers understood the anger behind it, and wisely, let the violation pass.
As it was, they had more important things on their minds than cultural insensitivity. The results from the techs had come back.
The failure of their fighting suits to go into camouflage mode had finally been determined, and the news was not good. The Loyalistas had employed a homemade dampening field to confuse the circuits, and the Major went on to warn them that they would have to expect the same thing to occur in the future.
That, and being shot at by their own ordinance. The Sisterhood’s largess had come back to haunt it; the lead shuttle had been hit by a surplus Harpy missile, left over from the so-called ‘War for Humanity’. Hundreds of these anti-armor rockets had gone missing during the conflict, and now, much to their regret, they had discovered where some of them had actually wound up.
The only reason that Kaly and her Team had even survived had been because their enemy had had only one Harpy to work with. To attack both shuttles, the Loyalistas had been forced to employ the cheaper, and more readily available ETR counterpart. It didn’t pack near as much punch as the Harpy did, and the assault shuttle’s armor had absorbed most of the blast.
From this point forwards, the teams would have to assume that they might come under attack by Harpy missiles, and flight crews would be making certain to employ appropriate countermeasures. A grim milestone had been reached in the conflict.
***
Although ‘bots, working alongside Marine Engineers were well into the process of reconstructing the Embassy, the shock of the attack had not worn off on anyone, even Sarah. Since that day, she had taken to sleeping in the COMINT Center and eating all of her meals there. On her orders, Maya had done the same, although far less willingly. She still didn’t care for the dark operations chamber, and living there all around the clock only made it seem that much worse.
Dining was even less pleasant. Despite the fact that Aideen n’Neala still cheerfully brought them their meals, it simply wasn’t the same experience under artificial lighting. It didn’t even taste the same as far as Maya was concerned.
Naturally, Sarah didn’t notice this lack of ambiance, and when Maya shuffled into the main conference room for their morning tea and breakfast, the woman was already well into her meal and waved her in with more than her usual enthusiasm.
“Maya!” she exclaimed, “Come in! Come in! I have good news for you today!” A trio of holos were floating in the air over the woman’s plate, and another one waited off to her side, next to the teapot.
As Maya took her seat, she recognized the women in the images, and their location. Lieutenant sa’Tela, and Rabartya Vaasco were speaking with Mariaa Estovaal in one of the interrogation rooms two floors below them.
Even with the sound off, she could tell who had the upper hand; Vaasco lounged in her chair, looking like a kaatze that had just eaten a baby bird, and Sa’Tela was striding around the table, waving her hand in the air dramatically as she spoke to Estovaal.
Estovaal didn’t seem to notice. Shoulders slumped, she was looking down at a half dozen documents spread out on the table before her with an expression of absolute despair. A second holo displayed the documents themselves, but Maya didn’t need to refer to it. They were the same overdue bills that she and Saantoz had fished out of the trash.
“I really have to congratulate you, “Sarah said between mouthfuls of toast and sips of her tea. “That woman was a hard case to crack for any new agent, and despite yourself, you managed to achieve success. Thanks to your information--“she paused to refill her cup, “--our good friend, Ms. Vaasco saw an opportunity to intervene, and purchased her home loan.’
“Now, all Estovaal has to do is give us the information we want and she will get to keep her residence. She will even be granted a small stipend for her time and trouble. Naturally, she has agreed to fully cooperate.”
Maya had been about to drink her own tea, but put it down, suddenly feeling ill. This was as ‘downright low’ as glass dealing, and she hated herself for the part that she had played in it. She also didn’t hide this fact from Sarah.
Reading her, Sarah merely shrugged dismissively. “Feel whatever guilt you wish, Maya. The fact is, that we now have a valuable conduit into her employer’s activities, and in the end, that is all that really counts.’
“But enough of this. I have something even more important to announce. I have just received word from my mother. She is about to marry and we have been invited to the ceremony. So, start packing your things. We leave this afternoon.”
“What about all our ops?” Maya asked, hooking her thumb in the general direction of the COMINT center.
“I will be leaving Lieutenant sa’Tela and Ms. Vaasco in charge,” Sarah responded. “They will provide me with updates, and carry on until we can return. As for ourselves, we will be making a stopover in Thermadon. I have some important business there at our new headquarters building, so make certain that your uniform is presentable.”
“Yes ma’am,” Maya responded, sketching a deliberately sloppy salute. With a final, guilty glance at the ongoing interrogation, she abandoned her breakfast, and Mariaa Estovaal, to their respective fates, and left to get started on her packing.
Jyon Vaargaz National Spaceport, Nuvo Bolivar, Magdala Provensa, Esteral Terrana Rapabla, 1048.10|22|07:08:31
Gilded by the late afternoon sunlight, the JUDI was a welcome sight to Maya’s eyes. So were the familiar figures of Captain bel Lissa and Zara. They were waiting for them at the bottom of the merchanter’s cargo ramp, and waved as the ‘limo pulled up.
“Heyas girl!” Zara called, and the moment Maya was out of the vehicle, she came up and gave her a hug.
“Look at you,” Bel Lissa said, stepping in and adding an embrace of her own. “You’ve grown! I hardly recognized you!”
Then she smiled at Sarah in acknowledgement. “Sarah? Glad to have you back with us for a little while.”
“How have my stand-ins been doing?” Sarah asked. While she had been busy with Maya’s training and RSE business, the Agency had supplied the JUDI with other psi’s so that the vessel could continue with its clandestine flights.
“Good enough,” Bel Lissa allowed, but it was clear by her tone that Sarah’s replacements hadn’t been fully up to her standards. “Norra bel Sharyn was the best. I think we’ll use her again.”
“But this trip, we’ll have someone better, won’t we?” Zara interjected.
Maya blushed at the compliment, and the engineer laughed and clapped her on the shoulder. “You’ll do fine, girl. Sarah was a little rough around the edges when she started with us--and now look at her! She’s one of the best Helmswomen around.”
“She’s right, and with Sarah sitting right next to you, your first flight should be
flawless,” Bel Lissa added supportively. “In fact, I don’t think she’ll let you fek up even if you tried to. For some reason, she still thinks this is her ship.” The four of them chuckled at this, and then Bel Lissa led the way up the cargo ramp.
A young woman was standing at the top, dressed in the sky-blue jumpsuit of a crewmember. She was only a few years older than Maya, with the light complexion of a Thermadonian, but her platinum blond hair was tied off to one side of her face with the type of braided leather hair band that the women on the desert world of Kevan favored.
Maya knew that it was a mark of honor among them. It was only given to those women who had completed their Tej as devotees of the goddess Kali, and it was as incongruous on the stranger as the silver tint of her irises. Such coloration was something that only Trilainians possessed, and it meant that whoever she was, she played host to some form of symbiote from that world.
Then there was her facial tattoo. This was perhaps one of the most confusing things about her. The Nemesian clans all sported stylized animals on the left sides of their faces, but this image was a diamond with four bars radiating from it. Maya had never seen anything like it before.
Who is this woman? she wondered.
“Engineer’s Mate Jeena taur K’aut’sha,” Bel Lissa said in introduction. In so doing, she explained the tattoo and also added another layer of mystery. ‘Taur’ marked her as a member of a Clan, but ‘K’aut’sha’ was the name of the famous fighting school on Nemesis.
It was only then that Maya noticed the gigantic Tej knife that was belted to her waist. Whoever Taur K’aut’sha was, the knife signified that she had not only studied at the Fighting School but had graduated--a rare thing for an outworlder. The only other woman that she knew who had accomplished this had been Skylaar taur Minna, and Nemesis was her motherworld.
Taur K’aut’sha came up to her, and Maya simply accepted the earring that she wore in one ear, and added it in with the rest of the puzzle. It was a skull and twin bones, marking her as a fellow Daughter of the Coast, and at one time at least, a Captain of her own vessel.
Sisterhood of Suns: Daughters of Eve Page 29