HEARTH #21

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Once again, Henrietta met Grace after the session ended for the day. “Do girls often get their shit pushed in during assembly?” she asked.

“That’s new.” Grace chewed on the filter of her cigarette. “That might be the first instance of violence since… Eve, I think. Not happy about us starting it, but that was what Enron wanted. She knows how to push people’s buttons to get them to act the way she wants them to.”

“She really got us,” Henrietta murmured. “If her speech didn’t turn the rest of TORCH against BEACON, that exchange definitely did.”

“If she wanted to sell it, she should have let herself take the punch.” Grace’s voice was dry and bitter. “Enron wants to sell herself as a victim, but she’s not the one who had to be carried out.”

“I thought she, like, sells people shit. Why is she also kicking our asses physically as well as verbally?”

Grace shrugged. “When you spend your entire life insulting professional killers, you learn how to protect yourself.” She continued to take thoughtful puffs.

“I wanted to ask you something. Why can’t we just let OPTICA handle the investigation?” Henrietta asked. “I mean, it doesn’t really matter who does the investigating, what matters is we catch the terrorists, right?”

Grace blinked as though Henrietta had said something unbelievably stupid.

Beads of sweat formed on Henrietta’s forehead, and she heard herself start to ramble to defend herself. “I mean, OPTICA doesn’t coalition with BEACON, but it also doesn’t coalition with SPRING. It’s in Azalea. You and Davida were talking about how OPTICA might swing all the way to join SPRING the Lotus soon, right? Wouldn’t giving Snow this, which she so desperately wants, be a good way to prevent that from happening?”

“..Were that it were so simple. Manna, explain to Henrietta.” Grace sighed and popped the cigarette back in her mouth.

“We can’t hand the investigation over to OPTICA because OPTICA… well, as the young sister from LUX pointed out, OPTICA is flawed.” Manna’s tone was neutral, like she was reading aloud from a textbook. “Much of the branch has been co-opted by outside interests, most notably SPRING and UMBRA. Grant OPTICA control of the investigation, and whatever narrative they spin will become the truth- no matter how politically inconvenient to us it may be.”

“Like blaming the witches, for instance,” said Grace. “LUX, our coalition partner and home to more than ninety percent of TORCH’s witches, can ill-afford that kind of bad PR. And both UMBRA and especially OPTICA have bones to pick with LUX. Wouldn’t suit us.”

Henrietta stiffened. “Even if the witches are behind it?”

“They’re not, I’m reasonably sure.” Grace took a long drag from her cigarette. “Henrietta, rest assured that my first priority is an end to these attacks. But I can’t trust OPTICA to do it. BEACON has decades of experience acting as military police and as peacekeepers. Unlike OPTICA we maintain our organizational integrity. We can handle a counterterror investigation- and it won’t be like OPTICA will be shut out. They’ll assist us, all the other investigative services will.”

There were several moments of awkward silence as Henrietta debated asking Grace about the Blue Sands Massacre. She had never heard of it before. It happened years before she was born, and it wasn’t something taught about at the Proving Ground.  “Did you guys really kill 400 FORGE girls…?” she finally asked, her voice hushed.

Grace’s shoulders stiffened. “I had no involvement in that except to give it the okay, and I didn’t know they’d be opening fire,” she said sharply. “It was… urgh. FORGE and LUX were about to go to war with one another, legitimately. If that happened, TORCH would have been finished.”

“Why?”

“Some… sample. An alien creature with a lot of ‘g’s in its name. Yuggot or something.” Grace made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “LUX thought it was horrifying and wanted to destroy it. FORGE thought it was promising and wanted to make weapons from it. A disagreement became an argument became a brawl became a gunfight, and before anyone knew it there were thousands of girls in pitched combat against one another. Eve told me her girls were dying- FORGE are engineers, even their interns carry serious weaponry. So to put a stop to it, I sent the closest BEACON warship we had to end the fighting. Unfortunately, that ship was the Black Mercy.”

Henrietta’s jaw dropped. “You sent Head Bitch Berenice to end the fighting?” Every BEACON soldier knew Berenice Sorek, the Mater Bellum- and yes, she had most certainly earned the title Mother of War. She led BEACON’s most feared and infamous commando unit, the cultlike and utterly deranged 1st “Black Dog” Legion… more commonly known as the Bitches. “You may as well have nuked the planet from orbit.”

“I know that now. I certainly didn’t expect her to massacre other TORCH agents so indifferently.” Grace shuddered. “I wanted to stick up for LUX- who were absolutely right to want to destroy that thing, by the way. FORGE will hate me for as long as I live. But no, I never ordered TORCH agents to be slaughtered like that.”

Henrietta believed it. When she had met Grace on Paran-7, she had been struck by the Mater’s easy control and self-confidence. But just a few days together on Chantico, and Grace had shown how much guilt and shame she carried. “It really sucks, doesn’t it?” she asked softly. “Being in charge.”

Grace snorted. “Don’t I fucking know it. If it gets too much for you-”

“Stop.” Henrietta put her hands on her hips. “I’m invincible, evincing these princesses as insects, giving them the boot twice like a bad PC, they’re just two-byte bugs in need of a vaccine. Don’t worry your pink head about Wonder Girl Retta, she’s a built-better pacesetter without fear or fetters.”

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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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