BEACON #14

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A miniaturized hardlight version of Berenice appeared on Lucifera’s wrist. The Mater Bellum was a large woman, although far more sleek and compact than the bulky Tamar. She wore a jet black Gawain AEGIS decorated with a snarling hound. The scarring on her face was intense: chunks missing from her right cheek, a long and deep wound bisecting the left, the tip of her nose slashed off, several smaller scars along her forehead, chin and the sides of her head. Her cropped hair was jet black and her lips were painted red. His small eyes glimmered with a seething hatred.

“119th,” she rasped, her voice rough and deep. “I got a little job for ya. Kinda unorthodox.”

“Of course, Mater,” said Lucifera obediently. “What do you need done?”

“Hmph. It’s not mine, it comes from higher up. They wanted me to do it, but my 1st Legion isn’t even on Kra-ki-wa… and is busy with their own assignment. I figured you guys would make for a passable substitute.”

“Well, we’d love to help,” said Lucifera nervously. “But we’re awaiting orders too. Any minute, command is gonna ask us to advance-”

“Don’t worry. I already talked to Sethur about it.” Sethur was the Princepa First Class, one of the most powerful people in BEACON and three steps above Lucifera- which meant she grotesquely outranked Berenice. But Berenice was a Mater and Sethur was not and that made all the difference. “There’s a mesa northeast of your position. You’re going to be scouting ahead to make sure it’s safe for the main force to advance.”

Lucifera relaxed. “Oh, is that all?”

“Mostly. There’s a twist: a few VIPs are already at that mesa. You’re going to link up with ‘em.” Whoever the VIPs were, Berenice didn’t seem overly fond of them. Then again, she didn’t seem fond of anything.

“Wait, how can there already be TORCH agents there?” asked Amalek with a frown. “I thought we were the first ones to land on this planet.”

Berenice turned her attentions to him. “Who the hell is speaking?”

“Colonel Amalek Kavod,” he replied with faux-deference. “119th Legion. Tell me, Mater, how did these ‘VIPs’ manage to beat us forward legions?”

“That’s on a need-to-know basis, shrimpy. And you don’t need to know.”

Amalek smiled. “At the moment, I’m a lot taller than you are, Mater.”

Berenice smiled back, showing off rows of sharp teeth. She reminded Herod of a wolf in the midst of a debate whether or not to tear some poor deer’s throat out. “Mouthy type, aintcha?”

“Just curious. For that matter… on what authority do you command us to do your work for you?” Amalek asked. “You’re a legata, meaning you only command a single legion- not us.”

Amalek!” Lucifera hissed. “The Mater isn’t commanding us, she’s asking us politely- and we’re saying yes. End of discussion.”

Matres were above the law and outside the chain of command. Most BEACON girls went their entire lives without interacting with one, so it didn’t matter much… but every so often, one of them would butt in with a “special request”. Even Herod knew that they were never good news.

Berenice stared Amalek in the eye. “I’ll remember your face and your name,” she said softly. “And I’ve got a long memory.”

“Good,” said Amalek, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “They’re a name and face worth remembering. If you wouldn’t mind, Mater, we’re in the midst of a strategic meeting- and you yourself said that you’re dreadfully busy.”

Berenice let out a low, husky laugh, then dropped the call. The instant it was over, Tamar slapped Amalek in the back of the head. “Ow!” he yelped, clutching the point of impact.

“The hell is wrong with you?!” Tamar snapped. Her face was white. “That wasn’t some Chantico bureaucrat or washed-up old-timer. That was Berenice Makkaba, the Head Bitch in Charge!”

“Why are you all so afraid of her?” Herod asked. Sheba panted lightly while all the color had left Ruth’s face. Only Lucifera looked to have her wits about her. “Isn’t the Mater a hero?”

Tamar barked a laugh. “She’s a psycho is what she is. You don’t understand. We’re all killers, aye, but we have our dignity. War is my job- and I enjoy what I do most days. Sometimes, with the adrenaline racing and the hair on my arms stiff, my mind clear and my body weightless, I even love it. But Berenice is in love with war. She buries herself in the killing and the dying, she breathes deeply of the corpse stench. BEACON puts an enemy in front of her and she shares her passion with it- and anything Berenice touches withers and dies.” Tamar shivers. “There’s a lot of scary people in BEACON. Maybe I’m one of them. But I don’t even think Berenice is people. I don’t know what she is.”

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