Without uttering a sound, Enggredsdaater charged at Hvaarka. She quickly got her powerful arms around the Hriss’s waist and started to squeeze him tightly. For a moment, it seemed as if the Zommerlaandar had the advantage, but the Hriss surprised her with a head-butt. Enggredsdaater screamed in pain and released him.
The Hriss wasn’t about to give her the chance to attack again though. Instead, he grasped her wrist and threw her to the mat. Before she had even finished falling, he was on top of her, ready to throttle her to death.
“Stop exercise!” N’Teri shouted. “That is lesson three. Sheer strength and size does not guarantee victory. Only skill, matched with endurance, wins the day, as I will now demonstrate.”
The DI stepped onto the training mat and faced Hvaarka. “Now, you will all remember,” she said, “that Hvaarka is working off his sentence. He has been promised his immediate freedom if he ever manages to defeat me. He will now attempt to gain that release.”
Then N’Teri snarled something in Hriss’ka. Whatever it had been, it had the same effect on him as her words had had on Kaly. Hvaarka roared and launched himself at the Drill Instructor, knocking her down. It seemed as if he was going to pin her to the ground, but even as the pair fell, N’Teri did something and Hvaarka tumbled off. He hit the mat with a shuddering crash, but recovered almost instantly, coming at her again and swiping at her with his fist. N’Teri ducked to the outside of his arm and grasping it with both hands, stepped sideways. Hvaarka went flying a second time.
Incredibly, she turned her back to the creature and faced the class with a serene smile. Hvaarka saw his opportunity and charged. This time he managed to get his forearm around her throat. N’Teri grasped the limb with her hands, digging her fingers deep into the soft joint between his exoskeleton. The Hriss gave out a whistling noise that was unmistakably a scream of pain, but N’Teri wasn’t done with him. She kicked her leg into his shin and then threw him over her shoulder as if he weighed nothing. For the third time, the Hriss hit the mat. Hard.
With a deep roar, he got up and lunged at her. This time his fighting claws were fully exposed. These natural weapons were easily 30 centimeters long, and razor sharp. Kaly gasped in horror, but N’Teri remained calm and stood her ground.
The Hriss was just about to make contact, when the diminutive blond leapt up and kicked him solidly in the chest. To Kaly’s amazement, this seemingly inconsequential blow sent the Hriss falling back like he had been hit with a grenade. When Hvaarka rose again, he did so slowly, and it was clear that he had no intention of attacking her a fourth time.
N’Teri said something in Hriss'ka, and Hvaarka replied to it with what was clearly a bitter laugh. Then the Marine guards came over and escorted their prisoner from the room.
The petite woman watched him leave, and then faced the class again. “It seems that Hvaarka didn’t manage to win his freedom today. Perhaps next time, he will. Now, let’s examine the vulnerable strike zones on a Hriss. Everyone sit down and feel free to ask questions as we go along”
The recruits sat themselves in a loose semi-circle as N’Teri called up a holo of a Hriss Warrior. “The average Hriss is vulnerable to attack in several areas. The first of these is the back of the head where it joins the neck. Here, the bony plate of their head thins out to nothing, which is why you might have noticed Hvaarka leaning his head back during combat. He was trying to keep that area protected. A strike to this spot can cause everything from simply stunning a Hriss, to unconsciousness, or even death.”
Kaly thought about this, and realized that the Hriss had done exactly what N’Teri had described during all of his bouts. She made a mental note to herself to remember this site.
“Another area that is vulnerable is the throat. Like us, the Hriss breathe air, which is delivered to the lungs by means of their version of a windpipe. A blow here can cause this structure to collapse and cause death from mechanical asphyxiation.” N’Teri made a chopping strike at the area to demonstrate the proper form of the blow.
Kaly tried to mimic her hand position and managed a passable copy. It reminded her of the classic fighting chops she’d seen in action realies.
“The next vulnerable area,” N’Teri continued, “is under the armpits. The Hriss possess special scent glands there that are used to attract the females of their species, and these are close to the surface and in a location that their exoskeleton does not protect. A blow here can cause instant incapacitation or death. This is why most Hriss fighting armor covers this area.’
“Another spot is what on a woman would be the solar plexus. Hriss body structure in this area is quite similar, and a properly delivered kick can stun them. In addition, further down, in what is our lower abdomen and to either side of the mid line, the Hriss has his kidneys.” N’Teri pointed to the two areas and drew circles with her finger. “A blow here can rupture these organs, and bring about shock and ultimately, death. Again, this is a well armored spot on most Warriors for that reason.”
Kaly raised her hand, albeit tentatively. Like the rest of the platoon, she found the luxury of being able to interrupt, and ask an Instructor a question a rare and unexpected privilege. Despite the invitation, though, she still half expected to get yelled at, but she had a question that she felt she simply had to ask.
“Ma’am?”
“Yes, Hatchie?”
“Ma’am, this recruit wonders if the Hriss genitals are vulnerable as well. I heard back in Primary about fighting maneuvers that were used against human males in that area of the body.”
“That’s a very good question,” N’Teri replied. “Unfortunately, Hriss genitalia are kept retracted up inside their bodies and tend to stay that way unless they are mating. A blow to that area would only strike bony plate. But it was a good idea and I want to thank you for mentioning it.”
Kaly sat back down, a little disappointed at the answer. Well, at least I asked, she thought.
N’Teri went on for a few more minutes, and then she clapped her hands together, banishing the holo and grabbing everyone’s full attention. “All right, class! Pair up! We will now study some basic blocks and throws. If you do well enough, I will see about having Hvaarka visit us again for some advanced exercises.”
The DI started to explain the first maneuver to them. Kaly and her companions paid very close attention.
USSNS Pallas Athena: In Space Dock, Rixa Naval Base, Rixa, Belletrix System, Pantari Elant, United Sisterhood of Suns, 1043.02|03|03:53:33
Despite its power and complexity, the core of the ship’s computer was a simple affair; a plain grey room with seating for techs and visitors, with a small holojector set in a low pedestal in the center of the chamber. Lilith and her officers filed in and took their seats as the Senior CompTech began the interview.
“Lt. Vena bel Devora, beginning interview sequence,” she intoned. “Authorization code, Carli-Dana-Ellyn-5173”
“Acknowledged,” the computer answered. “Logging scheduled interview: year 1043.02.03, 03:53:33 hours.”
A holo of the current ship’s personality matrix appeared. It was the likeness of Commander Dana bel Hanna, the third commander of the Athena.
Everyone, including Lilith, took careful note of her physical appearance. One of the telltale symptoms of a personality matrix going sour was a degraded self-portrait. But the holo appeared to be an accurate representation of how Bel Hanna had appeared in life, with no discernible flaws or distortions.
“Greetings, Commander ben Jeni, Lt. Commanders Bertasdaater and d’Rann, Reverend N' Marsi, and Lt. bel Devora,” Bel Hanna’s image said. “I hope that you are all well today.”
“That we are,” Lt. bel Devora replied. “How are you feeling today?”
“An interesting question, Lieutenant,” Bel Hanna responded with a smile. “Before my personality matrix was translated into this ship, I would have said that I was feeling well. Now, after being a part of it for so long, I think a more accurate statement would be that I am operating at my fullest cap
acity with no errors. I suppose that would equate in physical terms with a sense of well being.”
“I am glad to hear that,” Lt. bel Devora said. “Shall we begin with our questions?”
Ophida N' Marsi went first. “Commander bel Hanna, do you still remember your body, and what it felt like to be in it?”
“If by that, you are asking if I still have a sense of connection with the organic beings that inhabit the ship, my answer would be yes, very much so,” Bel Hanna answered. “I must admit however, that some sensations that I knew when I was in a physical state have faded in my memory to a certain extent. I hope that you don’t find this too alarming.”
“No, not particularly,” Ophida replied. “I imagine that if my brain was translated from my physical body into a bioelectronic receptacle, that I would be just a bit fuzzy on some particulars myself.”
“I’m glad you understand my situation,” Bel Hanna said.
“But tell me, do you ever miss your body?” Ophida asked.
“No, not really,” Bel Hanna said. “I have found that the trade off was a generous one. My senses, if we can accurately call them that, are radically enhanced. Through the ships’ sensors, I can perceive far more of the universe around me than I ever could in a physical body, and I think much faster and comprehend far more.”
Ophida nodded. “What do you think about when you are not processing operational data?”
“Many things, Sister,” Bel Hanna replied. “Of late, I have engaged in a fascinating study contemplating the true nature of the Divine Spirit. Recently, I was able to secure some very vital data concerning this subject from the Marie T. Rossi when we were last docked together. It seems that her personality matrix has also been pursuing a similar line of research.”
“How fascinating,” Ophida remarked. ”Did you reach any conclusions?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Would you care to share them with us?”
“Yes, but I must warn you that you may not agree with my assessment,” Bel Hanna cautioned.
When Ophida nodded her assent, she began.
“Like any woman, I was raised to believe in the Goddess. But then I realized that I had no definitive proof that such a being existed. So I set out to verify it.’
“From my initial calculations, I concluded that the universe was by no means a random collection of matter that simply happened, or that a series of accidents somehow led to life and consciousness. In fact, the sheer mathematical odds against the universe even being born, much less producing sentient life, are astronomical.”
“Naturally,” Ophida agreed.
“This is where the formulae supplied to me by the Rossi, entered into my equations as a way to solve for ‘x’. Only a great sentient force, interpenetrating everything, including the individual observer, could fully answer the question of ‘what’ and ‘why’ we are. To borrow from an Old Gaian source, I concluded that we are all ‘God’ literally experiencing itself through a great dream.’
“Then, I realized that a second question had arisen; what was the true face of that ‘God’, and which of the many religions that exist in our galaxy are correct?”
“And you found the Goddess?” Ophida asked.
“No, and yes, Mother. Given the vastness of our universe, there simply cannot be only one true vision. If there were, then all beings would share in it without deviation. Because they do not, I decided that perception of the divine is based upon the culture and experiences of the viewer. To borrow from another Gaian author, it wears masks to fit our expectations. This makes all forms of deity equally correct, and equally incorrect.”
“But surely, the only true form is the Goddess?” Ophida countered, profoundly shocked by this statement.
“According to my calculations, it is not.” Bel Hanna said. “I will be happy to share my figures with you, if you wish.”
“No,” Ophida replied, now visibly upset, “and I think you are wrong. If you were correct, then even the Marionites would have a valid claim on the truth, and that cannot be! Surely you are aware of what the Cauldron says about the Goddess being the ‘one and only source of all things’?”
“Reverend,” Lt. bel Devora interrupted. ”As much as I’m sure you’d like to spend time arguing theology with Commander bel Hanna, we have other issues we must address. Perhaps you two can arrange for a private session together?”
“Yes, of course,” Ophida huffed.
“Commander ben Jeni?” the CompTech asked, “Do you have any questions for Commander bel Hanna?”
“Yes, I do,” Lilith replied. “Commander, how do you feel about our mission to defend the Sisterhood? Do your calculations about divinity affect your views on this?”
“A very reasonable question, Commander,” Bel Hanna responded. “I have not forgotten my purpose, or the purpose of this ship. The Athena has always been a weapon of war, and as its matrix, I must be ready to help it to defend our nation.”
“Doesn’t that conflict with your notion of all beings, even the Hriss, being part of this divine dream you’re speaking about?” Lilith inquired. “How do you resolve the idea of God, in effect, killing itself?”
“That is a truly weighty subject,” Bel Hanna said. “During my contemplations, the issue of good and evil did arise, and I came to another troubling conclusion. I apologize in advance for any offense that I might give.”
“I am sure that we can listen to your answer as adults,” Lilith assured her, glancing pointedly at the High Priestess. “Please, share it.”
“In analyzing the existence of the divine,” Bel Hanna explained, “it became apparent that the dream of God is also a nightmare at times. That evil exists is a given, but why it exists was the central issue that the other ships and I debated.’
“Three major theories emerged. The first was that God is utterly mad. The second was that it simply does not care, and the third is that evil is some sort of divine error. In the end, the ships could not agree, but I still hold to my own conclusion.”
“And that is?”
“That the divine is perfect, and without flaw. Everything in the universe, both good and evil, are merely expressions of that perfection. There was, and is, no mistake in the mathematics of our creation. God, or the Goddess if you wish, is everything; the giver of life and its taker, the beauty and the horror.’
“I also contend that as physical beings, we must exist in a state of constant struggle. This means that because I am cast in God’s dream as a member of the Sisterhood, and charged with defending it, that I am merely acting in accord with the divine will.’
“In the Hriss interpretation of the universe, this makes me evil, although to the Sisterhood, I am good. In fact, I am neither, and am simply what I must be. Which, I might add, is also quite unfortunate for our enemies.” Bel Hanna laughed at this. “Does that answer your question?”
“Yes,” Lilith replied. “In a very surprising way, but yes, it does.” She looked over to gauge Ophida’s reaction, but the priestess was stone faced.
“Is there anything else you would like to ask me?” Bel Hanna inquired.
“There is one other thing,” Lilith said leaning forwards, “and it’s come up after every meeting that we’ve ever had, and now I think that the time is right. How do you feel about being the ship itself?”
Bel Hanna grinned knowingly. “Yes, I imagine that you might have wondered about that, Commander. You can’t sit in your chair on the bridge without wondering every so often what it might be like, can you?”
“No,” Lilith admitted. ”Sometimes I get a glimpse, but only that.”
“It’s hard to put it in terms that you would understand in your present state of being,” Bel Hanna said, “but before I was translated, I never imagined how gloriously free it felt to fly in space, or to literally feel the stars or hear the heartbeat of a galaxy. I never had the slightest idea that living in a body was actually a sentence in a prison cell. I only wish now that I had been translated sooner.”
“Someday, when you are ready, you really should consider being translated,” Bel Hanna urged. “Anyone who loves their ship as much as you do should join with it when the time comes.”
“But if I did that,” Lilith countered, “and if I were given the Athena, then wouldn’t that also mean that you would be removed, and possibly deactivated? That you would die?”
“Yes,” Bel Hanna’s image agreed. “It might at that, if the Navy didn’t have a use for me in another ship. But then, I knew that this was a possibility when I agreed to it. I understood that translation would only extend my life, not make me immortal.’
“I have had a good second life here in the Athena, but I have never wanted my existence to be an unending one. There is, according to the same calculations that I made concerning divinity, the very high possibility of a third life for me, and for everyone, after we translate from this one. If so, then I think that it would be a marvelous adventure, and I would certainly not want to miss it. After all, I’ve already died once, and things didn’t turn out that bad, did they?” Bel Hanna laughed again.
Lilith smiled wryly. “I will consider your suggestion, Commander, I promise you.”
Then she turned to her fellow officers. “Well, she has certainly answered all of my questions. Does anyone else have something they’d like to ask before we conclude the interview?”
No one, not even Ophida, spoke up, so Lilith stood. “Thank you for your time, Commander.”
“And you for yours, Commander,” Bel Hanna replied. “Visit me again on a freeday, won’t you? I would love to talk with you some more.”
“I accept the invitation.”
“Until then,” Bel Hanna smiled, and then the hologram disappeared. The interview was over.
Sisterhood of Suns: Pallas Athena Page 33