“1, 2, 3, 4, Sisterhood Marine Corps!”
“We’ll fight on land, we’ll fight in air. Where we’re needed, we’ll be there! Sound off!”
“1, 2, 3, 4, Sisterhood Marine Corps!”
“We’ll fight in space, we’ll fight on the sea. We’ll fight wherever there’s an enemy! Sound off!”
“1, 2, 3, 4, Sisterhood Marine Corps!”
“I don’t know, but I’ve been told. Walkin’ in space is mighty cold. Sound off!”
“1, 2, 3, 4, Sisterhood Marine Corps!”
“But I don’t care, just send me there. All I need is a bottle of air! Sound off!”
“1, 2, 3, 4, Sisterhood Marine Corps!”
Only a few weeks earlier, Kaly might have laughed at the cadence Sa’Tela was calling, or at the very least, considered it childish and primitive. Now, as she ran in time with the other recruits and shouted out her replies, it seemed completely appropriate and even energizing. She barely noticed how long and how far the platoon ran that day.
Afterwards they attended a class on infantry weapons, and it centered on Hriss armament in particular. The speaker was a Lieutenant from the base armory, who had been introduced to the platoon as an expert on foreign weapons.
“An unknown general,” she began, “from Old Gaia, once remarked, ‘Before you ride off to war, know your enemy.’ With this in mind, we will study our primary opponent, the Hriss Warrior, and his weapons.”
At the officer’s command, a holo appeared on the small stage in the PTS auditorium. It was a fully armed Hriss.
“When the Sisterhood first encountered Hriss ground forces, there was no standard equipment or load out, per se. Instead, what the Warrior carried, or how he was armored, depended on the clan he belonged to, and personal preference,” the Lieutenant explained.
“However, as successive wars with the Hriss Empire occurred, their Warriors adopted a more or less uniform layout. This was thought to be in response to the effectiveness of our own standardization. Although there are still some minor equipment and armor variations from clan-sept to clan-sept, the Warrior pictured here is more or less what you can expect to encounter on the modern battlefield.”
“Goddess, what a horrible brute,” Bel Anny commented under her breath. Kaly silently inclined her head in agreement, hoping that Bel Anny would get the hint and shut up. She didn’t want to get in trouble for talking, and she really wanted to hear what the officer was telling them. Know your enemy, she thought. Know them and defeat them. That was definitely the way.
“Physically, the average Hriss male is considerably taller and larger than a woman. The norm is around 200 centimeters. His upper arm strength is also significantly greater than ours. Some Warriors have been reported to have been strong enough to literally rip a woman’s arm from its socket.”
The Lieutenant let them ponder this mental image for a moment.
“While you may have already mastered some of the basics of hand-to-hand combat,” she continued, “unless you are on par with Troop Leader n’Teri, in my opinion, this is one opponent you would be better advised not to grapple with if you can help it.’
“In addition to his overall size and powerful frame, the Hriss comes with a set of retractable fighting claws. These claws are just as sharp as your RB-22’s and just as deadly in close quarters.”
The holo zoomed in on the creature’s right hand and showed the claws in their extended position. The image of Hvaarka out on the training floor, exposing his own claws at N’Teri came to Kaly’s mind, and her level of admiration for the DI’s prowess rose even higher.
“That’s what nature gave to the Hriss. Now, let’s look at what technology has brought to the table. Some of you might be aware that the Hriss are not mechanically oriented. Most, if not all of their weaponry, and their technology for that matter, comes from the hands of their slaves, a race we know of as the Anx’Ma.’
“The Anx’Ma have worked under the Hriss boot for eons, and what you see here is the result of their research and development efforts. While you might think that this would produce inferior products, you would be wrong; the Anx’Ma work for the Hriss with great enthusiasm. Even after centuries of enslavement, they regard their masters with something akin to love and devotion.”
“That’s absolutely the sickest thing I think I’ve ever heard,” Lena n’Gari remarked with disgust.
“Well, we are talking about Shovelheads,” Bel Anny added.
Kaly gave them both a reproachful glance. “Shh! Quiet down you two!”
Their exchange alerted Sa’Tela, who had stationed herself in the back corner of the room. The DI started to look in their general direction and Bel Anny and N’Gari wisely kept any further commentary to themselves.
“The Warrior we see here,” the Lieutenant was saying, “comes dressed in an energy-pulse resistant armor which is similar to our own fighting suits, although it is not as durable and not as strong as what we wear. Like our armor, the suit has the ability to change colors to match the surrounding terrain and it masks their heat signature with almost 99.99 percent effectiveness. Of course, as you have already learned on the grenade course, it does not mask their bio-signature at all.”
The Lieutenant moved over to a display table off to one side of the small stage and pulled back the cover. “Now this” the woman said, picking up a weapon that Kaly instantly recognized from the first night of the Persephone raid, “Is the Hriss equivalent of our Mark-7 Blaster.”
The weapon she was holding was larger than the Mark-7 and made of curved polished shapes that glinted evilly in the auditorium spotlights.
“The Hriss call it the Xkaxa’k’t. However, for convenience’s sake, the Corps has designated it the XK-74. The XK-74 is on par with the Mark 7, but has a smaller and less powerful battery, with a shorter life span.’
“It also lacks any form of psiever targeting augmentation which brings up an interesting point. The Hriss do not possess psiever technology in any form. Instead, they rely on more primitive computer-aided aiming systems, or simply on their own individual hand-eye skills. There have been some reports that the Anx’Ma have shown an interest now and again in psiever technology, but Hriss cultural and religious values have prevented them from adopting anything involving the use of bioplasmic energy. The only exception is Nullspace travel, which the Hriss leave to the Anx’Ma to handle.’
“Apparently, the Hriss regard it both as dishonorable and a sacrilege to augment the body with bioelectronic and bioplasmic devices. Personally, I thank the Goddess that the Hriss are so devout. It makes them poorer shots, and much easier targets to hit.”
This elicited some laughter from the recruits.
“Now, to compensate for its deficiencies, the XK-74 not only fires an energy burst, but also comes equipped with a chemical slug thrower or a grenade launcher.” The Lieutenant indicated the paired barrels in the blaster’s snout.
“The grenades it fires are similar to our GSG-20’s in that they are also hunter-seekers, but they home in on heat and scent signatures from sources like sweat and human blood. Like the GSG-20’s, they can sense and travel up to a kilometer to their target. The slugs on the other hand, are shorter ranged ordnance, and are really intended for close quarters. Don’t let that lull you into any false sense of confidence though. They’re made of depleted atomic materials and are designed to pierce fighting suit armor, which they do with ease.”
Then the Lieutenant put down the blaster and produced another weapon. This time it was a curved sword. “This is another Hriss favorite. They call it the Akskakt’t, which roughly translated, means the ‘Sword of Honor’.”
“A Warrior’s stature in their society can be gauged by the size of their sword. Akskakt’t range from what we would consider to be daggers to the full sized version we have here. They regard the swords as such important symbols of their personal honor that Hriss have been known to commit suicide with grenades rather than allow them to be captured by an enemy. Like our bayonets, the Ak
skakt’t is generally employed as a weapon of last resort.’
“But it is also used in ritual duels between Hriss clan-members, or for executing prisoners who they consider to be of high rank, and therefore worthy of death by it. And that, ladies, concludes my lecture.”
Sa’Tela walked down to the stage and faced everyone. “All right, you have half an hour of free time which you’d better use for PT or something like it. Dis-missed!”
CSS C-JUDI-GO, Nemesis, Rahdwa System, Thalestris Elant, United Sisterhood of Suns 1043.02|27|07:96:29
The first thing that struck Maya when she gazed down upon Nemesis was how green it was. The planet hung in space like a giant emerald, swathed in thick bands of clouds. The only exception to the seemingly endless rainforests were several oceans bisecting one giant continent, a few deserts, and a jagged mountain range that ran its length almost from pole to pole like the protruding spine of some extinct animal. From upside, there were very few signs that the world was even inhabited.
Here and there, she thought she caught a glimpse or two of a monorail track, or a building, but the cloud cover and the forest canopy conspired to make these sightings doubtful at best. A classic Bio World, the inhabitants of Nemesis had done their utmost to minimize the impact of humanity on it. It was only when the JUDI had entered the atmosphere, and begun its descent, that she was able to pick out the landing area, and the resort that they were headed for.
“Isn’t it just awesome?” Felecia asked, squeezing her hand. “What an untamed place it seems.”
“Indeed,” Sarah remarked from her station, “The Nemesians pride themselves on the preservation of their environment. As well they should; Nemesis is home to many of the drugs and medicines that the rest of us depend upon. Without their forests intact, many of the cures that we now take for granted would be completely unknown.”
“Yes, I have heard that most of their industrial facilities are underground,” Felecia replied.
“That they are,” Bel Lissa said. “Except for the Shadow Lake Lodge and a few other locations, it’s illegal to build permanent structures above ground or to disturb the rain-forest. Even their logging operations are designed for minimal impact. They only pick certain trees and fly them straight out by hoverlifters rather than risk damaging the undergrowth in any way.”
“That is amazing! Being a big-city girl, it is hard to imagine a world without tall buildings,” Felecia admitted. “Even Zommerlaand has a few large cities. Nemesis is certainly singular in its wildness. You know, I have never met a Nemesian before.”
Maya’s knowledge of them came from Skylaar, and her teacher had shared only a little about her birth planet and its unique culture. She found herself wondering what the native Nemesian women were like in comparison.
“It’s quite an experience,” Bel Lissa told Felecia. “They’re a tough, independent breed, built for survival in the forest, which is no mean feat. Most of the successful life forms on Nemesis evolved as carnivores. In fact, they’re considered to be some of the most dangerous creatures on any planet in the Sisterhood.”
“My, it does sound like a terribly fierce place,” Felecia said. “Nothing at all like Thermadon.”
“With respect, I would tend to disagree, Lady Felecia,” Sarah interjected. “Thermadon has its own special dangers that are just as dire. It simply conceals them within another kind of jungle.”
“Yes,” Felecia conceded. “I suppose it does at that.”
The JUDI had entered the atmosphere by this stage and was making its descent. The jungle rose up around them and rushed by, and Felecia pointed excitedly at their destination. It was displayed on the ship’s sitscreens.
“Look at those trees!” she exclaimed. “They’re so huge, they must be centuries upon centuries old! And that lake! Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” She gasped with childlike wonder and squeezed Maya’s hand.
It was beautiful, Maya thought as she looked at the scene.
Shadow Lake Lodge was nestled at the edge of an ancient forest, overlooking a long dark lake. The lodge itself was a gigantic structure, constructed mainly of native wood, but the trees nearby made it seem like a doll house in comparison. They soared up into the sky to fantastic heights and the forest that they created was a thing shrouded in darkness, a primeval wall of ancient mystery, and silence.
The lake, for which the lodge had been named, was no less enigmatic than the trees that bordered it. Its surface was as flat and as featureless as a mirror made from smoked glass, and Maya could only imagine what strange creatures the forest and the lake conspired to hide within their respective depths.
The JUDI touched down a minute later. When everyone filed out of the vessel, the rich earth scents of the forest around them, combined with real wood-smoke coming from a dozen fireplaces within the lodge, met their nostrils.
To Maya, the air seemed richer than what she was used to breathing, almost as if it were something that she could consume and gain nourishment from. Like anyone, she had heard that women sometimes came to Nemesis when they were very ill, and now she could appreciate why. The purity of the place was undeniable.
Maybe the Nemesians have it a’ right, she thought as she stepped out across the concrete landing pad. Maybe a Bio World like Nemesis wasn’t ‘taking things too far,’ as some women tended to believe. Maybe it was simply heading in the right direction. It was suddenly very easy for her to understand why the Biosync Movement had been such a powerful political force, and why groups like the Bio Action Army were so fanatical.
“An astute observation,” Sarah said under her voice. “Although the Bio Action Army might be our enemy, it is always wise to see the world through an opponent’s perspective to know their hearts. If you know an enemies heart, you know them, and that is the first stage in overcoming them.”
“Yes,” Maya replied. “I see what you mean.”
“But also bear in mind, that despite all of this,” Sarah added, gesturing at the forest around them, “what it is they would destroy just as casually and as ruthlessly as the terraformers that they hate so much. The fact that they are so willing to take human life is where their ideas fall short and they betray their own ideals. Hypocrisy is always the pitfall of the fanatic, however noble their cause.”
Members of the Lodge staff had come out to meet them by this point, and their leader walked up to the Senatrix.
“Sa'la jantildamé,” she said, bowing “Welcome to the Shadow Lake Lodge. We are honored to have you here as our guests. The other party that you were expecting has already arrived.”
The Senatrix returned the bow. “The honor is all ours. Thank you for accommodating us on such short notice.”
“Thank you, Senatrix,” the woman gushed. “Rest assured that you and your guests will have all the privacy that you require. We pride ourselves here on our discretion. I also trust you will be pleased with our conference facilities. Our lodge may look rustic, but I assure you that our amenities are state of the art. Now, if we can show you and your associates to your quarters?”
“Please, lead the way,” the Senatrix replied.
***
The interior of the lodge was a tribute to a style that was uniquely Nemesian. Its walls were created from huge timbers cleverly laid together and sealed off from the elements. Large colorful carpets made from local plant fibers covered the polished wood floors, and light was admitted into the enormous building from simple windows made of plain glass and polished wood.
True to their hostesses’ claim, the rustic setting cleverly concealed all of the services of modern technology under its wooden skin. When Maya dropped her flight bag in her room and thought about the lights, they came on, illuminating the space from a quaint-looking lamp that shone with a very realistic holographic flame.
The chamber itself was dominated by a large four posted bed, which, like everything else, was made of wood, but in this case, it was intricately carved with floral patterns and decorative images of strange, fierce-looking creatu
res that were undoubtedly native to the planet’s rainforests. Even though they were merely images, none of them looked like anything she would have wanted to encounter face to face, but in their own way, they had a certain wild beauty to them that she had to admire.
She sat down on the edge of the soft mattress and looked out of the room’s single window to the forest beyond. It was open and the gentle draft coming in to her room brought with it not only the scents of the woodland, but its sounds as well.
The planet’s sun was just beginning to set in the west and the darkening wall of trees was coming alive with strange noises. Odd clicks and howls and occasionally something that sounded very close to a child crying, came to her ears over the breeze as the night-animals of the jungle began their nocturnal prowling just beyond the Lodge’s impeller field fencing. She listened to them for a while, trying to imagine their sources and then feeling a chill, got up and closed the window.
As she returned to her luggage to begin unpacking, a holo of Sharra appeared in the center of the room, projected from a cleverly concealed holojector set in what she had initially dismissed as a decorative polished sphere of translucent stone.
“Hello, Maya,” the Security Chief said, “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything, but I wanted to let you and your crewmates know what our schedule for tomorrow is. The Senatrix will be meeting with the Rampart leaders at 03:75 hours at the Modrel Cultural Center, which is adjacent to the lodge in the east wing.’
“She has specifically asked that you escort Lady Felecia while she conducts this meeting. I suggest that you think of taking her to the museum, which is next door to the Cultural Center. She might find that of interest. In the meantime, dinner will be held tonight in the lodge’s main dining room at 07:50 sharp. Attire is informal.”
Maya nodded.
“There is one other thing,” the image added, “If you have one, keep your needlegun on you and stay alert. Things seem quiet for the moment, but there’s no telling if there will be another attempt on Lady Felecia or the Senatrix.”
Sisterhood of Suns: Pallas Athena Page 50