Sisterhood of Suns: Pallas Athena

by Martin Schiller

  So instead, she gently picked the tray back up and set it into its slot. Then she sat on the edge of the lowest bed, trying to appear as cooperative as possible--and hating every second of it.

  CHAPTER 5

  USSNS Pallas Athena, Battle Group Golden, Persephone, Demeter System, Sagana Territory, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1042.12|23|05:48:93

  The Marines were still in the process of eliminating the last Hriss resistance on Persephone, and except for an occasional request for fire-support, there had been very little for the battle group to do except stand by in orbit. Most of the crew of the Athena that was not on active duty, or employed downside, had taken advantage of this by engaging in recreational activities. Although it was her turn on the bridge, Lilith took the time to treat herself to lunch down in the Officer’s Mess rather than ‘eating at the boards’ in her office, or at the command chair.

  When she entered, she heard music. Katrinn was seated in the center of the space, surrounded by a group of officers who were listening in rapt attention. Music was a special love of hers and the Zommerlaandar had brought out her guitar to play for them.

  Lilith recognized the melody right away, and edged her way into the room to join the others.

  “Jenny Has Gone for a Soldier” was an ancient composition that had been born centuries before humans had ever even conceived of space-travel It had survived the tumult of history and travelled with the first settlers to Alpha Centauri A.

  Eventually, it had become a favorite of the Sisterhood Marines, many of whom called the system’s main planet, Zommerlaand, their home. Although its title and the words had been changed many times, its meaning was still the same;

  “Here I sit on Widow’s--Hill,” Katrinn began,

  “Who can blame me, cryin' my fill?

  “And every tear would turn a mill,

  “Jen-ny has gone for a soldier.”

  Like Lilith, her audience knew the tune, and joined in the chorus;

  “Me, oh my, I loved her so,

  Broke my heart to see her go.

  Only time will heal my woe,

  Jen-ny has gone for a soldier.”

  “I'll sell my rod,” Katrinn went on, “I'll sell my reel,’

  “Likewise I'll sell my spin-ning wheel.

  “And buy my love a sword of steel.

  “Jen-ny has gone for a soldier.”

  Her audience responded,

  “I'll dye my dress,

  “I'll dye it red,’

  “And through the streets I'll beg for bread,

  “For the girl I love has fled,’

  “Jen-ny has gone for a soldier.”

  The folk-song went on like this for a while longer before Katrinn played the final notes, and let the music die away. More than a few of the women listening had been affected by it, and even Lilith’s eyes weren’t entirely dry. “Jenny” always managed to do that to servicewomen.

  “All right,” Katrinn said, striking up a cord, “now for something a little more upbeat.”

  She immediately launched into a complicated, lively rhythm that soon had everyone clapping in time. By the end it, Lilith had finally accepted a cup of tea that someone had pressed into her hand and taken a seat. She had decided that lunch, and the bridge, could wait for a few more minutes. Everyone had earned a break, even her.

  Newhearth Colony, Persephone, Demeter System, Sagana Territory, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1042.12|30|07:28:33

  With her work detail finished for the day, Kaly suddenly found herself with some free time on her hands. She walked away from the aid station and down past the taped-off Gathering Square, squinting in the glare of the late afternoon sunlight.

  A pair of Navy space-fighters flew over at almost rooftop level, roaring inland to pound at the last remaining Hriss positions. One of the Marines on her work detail had told her that with their cruiser gone, the Hriss infantry were still putting up a fierce resistance, but that they were ultimately doomed. The Sisterhood was giving the stranded Warriors no quarter, and taking no prisoners.

  The girl shielded her eyes from the sun and as she watched the fighters, tasted bile. She wanted to be up there with them, raining death and destruction down on the invaders, and she invoked a silent blessing upon the pilots.

  “May the Goddess grant you sure aim,” she whispered. “And blast the fekking shovelheads to atoms.”

  Finally, the war machines disappeared behind a distant line of trees, and she moved on with no particular destination in mind, or any desire to find one. Eventually, she reached the open field that the Marines were using for the grave-pits.

  Out of 6,000 colonists, only a hundred had managed to survive the Hriss onslaught, and three large trenches had been dug to accommodate the dead. Two of these had already been covered over, but the third was still waiting for the Marine earth moving machines to complete the burial process.

  Kaly tried her best to avoid looking at the corpses, but the urge to stop, and stare down into at them was irresistible. They lay together at the bottom in neat, orderly rows. Each one was encased in a white plastic body bag and stenciled with a number and a bar code that identified the occupant and matched it to the Red Star’s casualty lists.

  Some of the bags were adult-sized, but too many were obviously children, and she was grateful for the fact that she couldn’t see their faces. Faces like Ayleen’s, staring up through her plastic shroud at the heavens with the frozen incomprehension of a sudden and violent death.

  The Marine Priestesses who had officiated at the burial service had told Kaly and the other survivors that a monument would be erected on the site to commemorate the dead. A memorial that would list all of their names so that future generations of women would know who they were, and what had happened here.

  This was supposed to provide some comfort. But it didn’t, and Kaly didn’t need a cenotaph to remember anything. The memories of that terrible night, and all the nights that had followed it, had been seared into her soul more indelibly than any laser etching on a stone.

  For some inexplicable reason though, she still hadn’t wept for the dead. The tears had simply refused to come. Instead, all she felt was a great, hollow emptiness that sat in the middle of her like a black hole, consuming everything, including her ability to express her grief.

  While she stood there trying to understand this, the wind came up, tossing dust and debris into the air and wrapping its fingers around her like one of the plastic shrouds. It was a cold and comfortless thing, and even though the sealed body bags made it physically impossible, she still thought that she could smell the faint miasma of burned flesh, and death.

  Nauseated, she finally found the will to turn away from the mass grave, and resumed her wandering.

  What do I do now? she wondered. Persephone and the people who had made it what it was, were all that she had ever known. Now, they were gone. The Red Star Psych doctors had talked about rebuilding the colony, but she knew that even if they repopulated the planet and reconstructed everything, it would never be the same. That place and that time was gone, along with her childhood and her innocence.

  She also had no alternatives. There was no other place to go, and no other life to live. All there was, was the nothingness inside of herself, and the empty road that she was walking on. An empty road that led nowhere.

  Just then, an armored personnel vehicle flew by her, and she jumped back relexively, choking from the dust kicked up by its fans. When she’d finally managed to clear her lungs, the dust had settled, and she caught sight of a group of Marines lounging underneath a tree. One of them stood up, took off her helmet, and leisurely shook out her blond hair.

  Their eyes met for just an instant, but that was enough to change Kaly’s life forever. The trooper was older than her by a decade, and she had the worn, tough-looking features that came from years of battlefield experience. But her eyes possessed an undeniable strength, an aura of total control in the midst of all the madness in the universe, and it pulled at Kaly like a m
agnetic field.

  Then the Marine looked away to say something to her companions, and the moment was gone. Its effect on Kaly however, had been indelible. She suddenly knew with absolute certainty what she wanted for herself.

  She wanted that same inner strength, the same self control. And she wanted revenge. Revenge on the Hriss for what they had done to her and to everyone she had ever known.

  With a determined stride, she walked up to the group, the course of her life now firmly and irretrievably set.

  “I want to fight,” she declaired. “I want to join you.”

  “She must be klaxxy,” one of the troopers replied, laughing derisively. “Go home, little girl.”

  “No,” Kaly said. “You heard me. I want to join up.”

  The trooper that she had made eye contact with gave her a strange hungry look, as if she was sizing her up for her next meal.

  “Izzat zo, little downzider?” she asked, “You vant to join za Marines?”

  “Yes,” Kaly answered. “There’s nothing here for me any more.”

  “Tell her to go home, Troop Leader,” the other Marine urged. “She’s too skinny and weak to be good for anything.”

  The Troop Leader walked up to Kaly and looked down at her. Until that instant the girl hadn’t realized just how big the woman really was, but she stood her ground bravely.

  “You vant vhat I’ve had?” the Zommerlaandar challenged, “You vant maybe a little blood? A little killing, izzat it? You zhink you can handle zaat, little girl?”

  “I already have,” Kaly answered in a voice as flat as death. “I want to pay the shovelheads back for what they did to us. Who do I see to sign up?”

  “You know vhat? You’re a stupid girl,” the Troop Leader said with a half smile. Then she turned to her friends. “Looks like she’s made oop her mind to die stupid, too. Let’s take her to za El-Tee. Maybe she can talk zome sense into her stupid head, yah?”

  Two minutes later, Kaly was standing in the Marine Field Camp in front of the El-Tee herself.

  “How old are you, girl?” the Lieutenant asked her. “And don’t lie to me or I’ll have Troop Leader Alika here kick your ass all the way back to the Aid Station.”

  “16 Standard,” Kaly replied, trying her best to stand a little taller.

  “16?” the officer laughed. “You’re a child. The DI’s on Hella's World will chew you up and spit you out before you even finish the first week of Basic. Go home.” The woman turned and began to walk away.

  Tears welled up in Kaly’s eyes. “I don’t have a home!” she shouted. “They took it from me!”

  The Lieutenant turned around.

  “I’m old enough to sign for myself, damn you!” Kaly spat. “I’m a woman, not a girl--and I’m free to choose. If you won’t take me, then maybe the Navy will.”

  Kaly knew that she was right, and so did the officer. On just about every Sisterhood world, 16 was considered the legal age of maturity.

  The Lieutenant shook her head in disgust. “Well, we can’t have you becoming a damned can-scrubbie, now can we? All right, downsider, I’ll make you a deal; you take two days and think this over just as hard as that pretty little head of yours is able, and if you still want to sign up, I’ll swear you in myself.”

  “I will, and I’ll be back,” Kaly said defiantly.

  “We’ll see,” the Lieutenant replied. “Troop Leader, see to it that this young lunatic gets back to the Aid Station. I don’t want to see her hanging around camp until her time is up.”

  Troop Leader Alika clapped a big hand on Kaly’s shoulder. “Come on, little honeypot, you’ve said all zaat za El-Tee vants to hear.”

  ***

  Two days passed, and Kaly was back at the camp, shivering in the pre-dawn cold, and holding a knapsack that contained the few possessions that she owned. As soon as someone recognized her, Troop Leader Alika was summoned.

  “Zo? You vant vhat ve got?” the trooper asked. “A little blood, a little killing, zaat it?”

  “Yeah,” Kaly said. “Get the El-Tee.”

  “’Kay, stay here, downsider. I’ll get za El-Tee,” Alika told her. Then she added, “You’re a stupid girl, you know zaat?”

  Kaly nodded, doing her best not to let her teeth chatter, and waited where she was. By the time the sun had fully risen, Kaly n’Deena had been sworn in as one of the newest recruits in the United Sisterhood of Suns Marine Corps.

  USSMCAS Lucy Brewer, In Flight, Persephone, Demeter System, Sagana Territory, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1043.01|02|02:60:10

  As near as Kaly could tell, she appeared to be the only person that even remotely resembled a ‘civilian’ onboard the Marine assault shuttle. The rest of the Lucy Brewer’s troop bay was filled with veteran Marines, and a number of them watched her with undisguised interest and amusement. They had all heard about the klaxxy little girl that had signed up downside and they all knew what she was headed for on Hella’s World. And from their expressions, it was plain that none of them expected any more from her than the El-Tee had.

  She tried to ignore their doubting stares, and did her best to appear relaxed and confident. It was hard for her to manage. As empty as her future had been on Persephone, a great unknown lay before her like a tremendous chasm that yawned ever wider with each passing minute. But she was not about to let her trepidation show. The troopers around her were now her peers, and she wasn’t going to let them know that she secretly shared their misgivings.

  Finally, after an eternity of waiting, a loud metallic clang sounded through the shuttle as it mated with the mother ship’s hangar. As one, the troopers rose and started to file out of the compartment, and Kaly tried to unbuckle herself to join them.

  One of the fasteners in her straps refused to open though. Suddenly imprisoned in her seat, Kaly cursed under her breath and fought with the release button, but it stubbornly resisted her efforts. The Marines filing past her didn’t fail to notice her predicament, and several of them laughed, adding in comments about the “stupid hatchie,” or making remarks about the general unworthiness of downsiders. Kaly flushed deeply with embarrassment, and kept fighting with the buckle, all the while wishing that she were anywhere else in the universe at that precise instant.

  “You’re not doing it right,” someone said from above and behind her. A trooper bent over her seat and unlocked the recalcitrant clasp with a practiced ease. “You better learn how to do that,” she warned her. “Or someday you might find yourself trapped in a burning shuttle.”

  Kaly looked up into the face of the same Marine who had stopped her from firing on the Hriss patrol, and smiled gratefully.

  “I see that you decided to choose a life of excitement and adventure for yourself,” the woman remarked dryly. “But if you don’t get your act together real quick, girlie, it’s not going to be a very long life. Now, where were you supposed to report?”

  “No one told me, ma’am,” Kaly replied, standing and gathering up both her carry-bag, and what shreds still remained of her dignity. “They just said to get in the shuttle and go ‘upside.’”

  “Ma’am?” the Marine laughed, “Do I look like an officer to you? I work for a living! It’s Troop Leader, girl! You get that right. Now, let’s go see if someone is coming along to collect you.”

  Kaly followed her out of the shuttle and into a passage that she presumed was the receiving bay of the mother ship. A sign on the bulkhead confirmed this.

  It read: “Welcome aboard the USSNS Pallas Athena, SBC 1323.” Another Marine stood underneath the sign, her hands on her hips, watching them as they came aboard.

  “It looks like someone’s waiting for you, after all. Good luck in your new life,” the trooper said, clapping her on the shoulder. “Maybe we’ll party together again like we did downside, yah?” She left Kaly alone with her escort.

  “Are you N’Deena?” the new woman asked. Kaly nodded.

  “Good. They told me some fresh meat had signed up. I’m Corporal n’Valri. Follow me. I’ll get yo
u a rack and show you where you can stow your gear.” Without waiting to see if she was complying or not, the Corporal turned smartly on her heels and started off down the passage.

  Kaly trotted after her, and by the time they reached the Marine Stores, she was out of breath and completely disoriented by the seemingly endless number of corridors that they had negotiated. A bored-looking Private was at the receiving window for the Stores, and looked up at her, clearly waiting for her to do something, but Kaly was completely clueless.

  “Well? Give her your knapsack,” N’Valri finally urged.

  Kaly handed the bag over and the Private gave her a pile of grey fatigues and a small electronic chit in return. The girl stood there for a moment, not quite sure what was expected of her next.

  N’Valri shook her head slowly in amusement. “Downsiders,” she said disparagingly. The Private at the window laughed with her.

  “That is your new u-n-i-f-o-r-m,” she said, speaking to her like she was an infant or a half-wit. “Change into it and turn your civilian clothing over to the stores clerk here. She’ll stow them with your knapsack. You can use that restroom over there if you need privacy.”

  Kaly obediently went inside the small chamber, and quickly donned the ill-fitting dull-grey uniform. When she came back out, she handed over her clothing to the Private. Her civilian clothing she reminded herself. From now on, she was a Recruit Trainee.

  The Corporal looked her over with a critical eye. “Well, that’s a slight improvement. At least you don’t look too much like a refugee anymore, or a can-scrubbie. I imagine you’re probably hungry.”

  Kaly nodded.

  “Come on, I’ll show you where the mess is. It may not be food like what you’re used to, but it’s hot and it’ll fill you up.”