First Contact

Chapter 778: The Inheritor's War

"Those of you who say you knew her, lie. None of us did. We never knew her thoughts, we never knew her plans, we never knew her goals.

We only knew her heart. We knew she would never, ever give up on us; that her love for us - that fearsome, violent love that cost her serenity - would never falter.

You say you knew her, who saw her deeds.

You say you knew her, who heard tales about her.

You know nothing. The things that made her who she was, her will, her ideas, her goals, she shared with no-one. We grew up with her, we looked to her in darkness, we relied on her at our lowest moment. But we never knew her.

Never insult her memory with lies.

Cherish instead what she chose to give you, and all of us - the love she had that was all she would share of herself. Know that, and that alone. For it is truly who she was."

• attributed to Pulngee, younger sibling of Saint Dambree the Silent (unverified.) as recorded by/u/WillDissolver

Aunt Fenn watched as Dambree stepped out the door and into the wan sunlight of the cloudy day. She had to duck slightly and turn to get through it before pausing to smooth her dress carefully, adjust her veil, and tug on the cuffs of her blouse. She moved over to the car, opening the door carefully, then tried to get in.

After three tries to get comfortable, her knees up by her chest, she got out, shut the passenger door, then got in the back seat, putting her legs in the leg room for the space next to her and slumping down slightly.

Aunt Fenn got into the car, adjusting the rearview and looking at her niece for a moment.

"Sorry you have to sit like that," she said.

Dambree shrugged. "I rode like this in the taxi."

Fenn just nodded, starting the car and pulling out of the driveway. She was quiet for a little while as she navigated out of the suburb. Once she was on one of the main roads she activated the car's navicomp and looked back at her niece.

"It's kind of funny seeing you in a modest dress like that," Fenn said.

"I know," Dambree said.

"Your mother used be infuriated by how you wore short skirts or tight pants and shirts or belly shirts," Fenn said, smiling.

"I know," Dambree said. She gave a sigh.

"You know why it's so funny to me?" Fenn asked.

Dambree shook her head. "No."

"Because she dressed the same way at that age. Always running out with your father, staying out late, drinking and dancing till early morning," Fenn said. She laughed. "Your grandmother used to threaten to beat her or turn her over to the Overseers as incorrigable."

Dambree gave a low, rough chuckle. "I cannot picture my mother in a short skirt and a belly shirt."

Fenn smiled wider. "She got her navel pierced and your grandmother hit the roof."

That made Dambree chuckle again.

"Your father had a beat up ground car that he and his friends were always working on. He and your mother would race up and down the roads out by the agri-farms," Fenn said. She shook her head. "He put these chrome pipes on it so that he could press a button and flames shot out of the pipes."

She was silent a moment. "Then she had you and threw away all of her and your father's clothing -even his jacket with the spiked shoulders-, bought modest clothing for herself and your father, then she slapped three layers of clear coat on herself, and called it good."

"I can't picture that," Dambree said softly. She thought for a second and gave a big sigh. "I only remember her always being mad at me," she looked out the back window. "The last thing she was doing was yelling at me when the Slorpies grabbed her right out of the car."

"I'm sorry," Fenn said. She reached out and held her hand out to Dambree, who took it after a moment. She squeezed Dambree's hand. "When you were born, you became her whole world. Every time I saw her she wanted to show me pictures, videos of you."

Fenn let go and looked at the nav-comp.

"She did love you," Fenn said as the car moved off of the freeway and down the on-ramp.

"I know," Dambree said.

They were silent as the car navigated to a parking garage next to a large building of macroplas windows and endosteel plating.

Fenn held the door as Dambree got out of the car, then waited for Dambree to smooth her dress and adjust her veil. Dambree stood up to full height of 2.5 meters and her ears hit the ceiling of the parking garage. She sighed and put her ears back behind her head.

"Ready?" Fenn asked.

Dambree nodded.

Fenn reached out and took her nieces hand as they walked to the government building. They waited patiently in line behind all of the other Hesstlan who were going to take care of paperwork, apply for things, or showing up for court.

Fenn noticed that the guards took notice of Dambree's height immediately. By the time they were halfway to the detectors Fenn saw that the three Hesstlan on duty now had a half dozen others with them, including a big Treana'ad wearing Confederate Armed Services vest and abdomen covering.

Fenn moved through the detectors and turned to pick her belongings up off the belt.

"Miss, you need to remove your veil," one of the Hesstlan security guards said.

People turned to look.

Dambree sighed, reached up, and removed the veil.

There were audible gasps as the scarred and bare flesh was revealed. Little patches of fur here and there poked out like tiny spikes from the swirling scar tissue of radiation exposure. She had large spots of darker skin.

Her eyes glowed a faint red.

Two security guards reached for their pistol as Dambree just stared at them.

"Ease off," the Treana'ad snapped, his voice carrying. He looked at the two guards. "She's not a threat," the Treana'ad turned to Dambree. "Go ahead and put your veil back on, miss. I apologize for the discomfort."

Dambree shrugged as she put the veil back in place. "I look how I look. I am unconcerned with how my appearance discomforts others."

The Treana'ad gave a grinding chuckle. "Spoken like a true warrior, miss," the big insect said.

Dambree stepped into the scanners.

Alarms went off and Fenn heard both Dambree and the Treana'ad sigh at the same time.

Dambree held still, waiting, as the Treana'ad leaned forward.

"Shrapnel, a couple bullets, what looks like broken off knife tips," the Treana'ad mused. It looked up. "Arrowheads?"

Dambree shrugged. "Ambush," was all she said.

The Treana'ad reached forward, over the tech's shoulder, and tapped a few keys.

The alarm cut off.

"But, sir, the phasic scanner," the tech said, pointing.

Aunt Fenn shifted so she could get a look at the screen.

Dambree stood there, her physical body overlaid with phasic levels. It should have just showed colored streaks, an aura around her, and brain activity.

Instead, Dambree was clad in heavy work clothes, heavy gloves, with a thick leather belt around her waist and a brush clearing blade hanging off of it, opposite of a heavy magac pistol.

The eyes of the grav-ski mask glowed bright red on the screen.

"Let me handle it," the Treana'ad said. He shifted, his boots clacking on the floor as he moved to the end of the scanners. "Come with me, young lady," the Treana'ad said.

"Thank you," Dambree said quietly, her voice still rough and gravelly.

"She needs to register," Aunt Fenn said as she walked on the other side of the Treana'ad from Dambree.

"Just came in?" the Treana'ad asked.

"I've been at an orphanage-convent since about a year after the end of the war," Dambree said.

The Treana'ad nodded. "One of my hatch-mates entered a convent on Smokey-Cone after the Clownface Nebula Conflict," the Treana'ad said. "Sometimes, it's a good place to remember who you are."

Dambree just nodded.

The elevator doors opened and they moved into the car. Aunt Fenn noticed it was built to hold four to eight Treana'ad, so there was plenty of room and Dambree didn't have to hold her ears back. The elevator went up six floors and dinged as the door opened.

The trio headed down the hallway, toward "Civilian Registration", the Treana'ad's boots clicking.

"Bet it's nice to walk with someone taller than you, huh?" The Treana'ad asked.

Dambree nodded. "Yes."

"Hit your ears on the parking garage ceiling?" The Treana'ad asked.

"Yes."

"Yeah, I have to crouch and scuttle to my car. I look like a fool, but whatcha gonna do?" the Treana'ad said, chuckling.

They reached the Civilian Registration Office, the Treana'ad holding the door open for Dambree and following Aunt Fenn in. The line was short, only taking ten minutes to reach the front desk.

The female Hesstlan looked up and frowned. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to remove your veil so that you can have your identity verified."

Dambree reached up and unhooked her veil.

The receptionist drew back, her eyes going wide. She stammered for a moment then looked down at her keyboard, clicking keys silently.

Dambree put back on her veil.

Aunt Fenn held Dambree's hand as they asked where she had been during The War. Why she hadn't gone to the shelter. What had she done? Was she part of any Black Eyes camps? When it reached the "Did you commit any crimes you need to consult legal aid about?" the Treana'ad touched his implant.

The woman's computer chirped and she looked at the Treana'ad.

"But, sir, this is highly irregular. I'm going to need to consult my supervisor," she said.

The Treana'ad just nodded, moving over next to Dambree as the receptionist hurried away.

"So, did you do anything that we might not have approved of during that insane bloodfuck nightmare of carnage that lasted five years where you were on your own and had to protect yourself and survive while angry gods threw atomic weaponry at each other?" The Treana'ad said sarcastically. He shook his head. "I hate this part of the war."

Aunt Fenn just nodded, holding Dambree's hand.

The supervisor moved up, looking at the computer.

"Just a moment, I need to verify this," he said, before walking away quickly.

"Has to make sure that he doesn't make any decision that might jeapordize his pension or promotion," the Treana'ad said.

Dambree just grunted. Aunt Fenn rubbed her arm, looking up and smiling at her. Dambree relaxed slightly, leaning against Aunt Fenn a little, who put her arm around the large young woman.

Another female hurried up, looked at the monitor, looked at the Treana'ad, then at Dambree, then shook her head.

"Sorry," she said. She tapped a few keys. "There. I just put a military intelligence bypass on it," she sat down. "Let's continue."

Aunt Fenn kept her arm around Dambree's waist as the questions continued. When asked, Dambree provided paperwork, including two letters from the Mother Superior and the leader of a Terran Martial Order.

"Any other documentation?" the woman asked.

Dambree shook her head.

"Any character references?" the woman asked.

Dambree shrugged. "One. But I doubt you'll believe it."

"I've seen all kinds of stuff in the twenty years I've been with Hesstlan Services," the woman smiled.

Dambree held out a small holocube. The woman took it and looked it over. "This thing looks like an antique," she said. She set it down and the computer chuckled for a moment.

An image of a fierce featured Terran male appeared, chrome teardrops next to his eye, rank and blood type and genescan barcode on one cheek.

"Dambree's a good kid," the Terran rumbled. "Answered the call when it came and served in the War on Heaven and the War in Hell," he continued.

Everyone had turned to look at the small hologram projected above the cube.

"She kept my brother safe during a critical part of the operation," the man said. He seemed to lean forward. "She's a good kid, just had it a little rough during the war like everyone else. She stood at the side of me and my siblings in the service of the Digital Omnimessiah," the man's hologram vanished to be replaced by signature code.

The computer chirped excitedly.

Everyone turned and looked at Dambree.

"That was Enraged Phillip, Biological Apostle to the Digital Omnimessiah," the Hesstlan woman said, her eyes wide and ears straight up.

"I know," Dambree shrugged. "He's nice. Tired, but nice. I liked his dog. His brother Kalki let me pet his goat."

Everyone just stared.

Aunt Fenn squeezed her niece's waist in a hug.

The cube gave a low growl and the computer suddenly turned off. The lights flickered in the room and there was the faint feel of malevolence from the shadows.

A Terran woman's head appeared, a Treana'ad smoke in her mouth. She exhaled smoke, looking around slowly, her grey eyes piercing through the smoke.

"The kid's all right. Looks like a big-ass rabbit, but I guess that's how her people look. She'll be doing important things, more important than any of you slack jawed morons could ever know. Doing what has to be done if we're going to save God," the woman took another drag off of her cigarette. "She might not survive it, but she might, so I'm recording this. Dambree has sworn to do my bidding in the Digital Omnimessiah's name," the woman looked around, as if she could see everyone despite being a recording. She took a drag off the cigarette and exhaled the smoke, filling the image.

"Who am I?" the woman asked, starting to smile.

It was an ugly smile. All teeth and no humor.

A huge shape erupted from the holocube, towering over everyone. All corded and iron hard brown muscle, like basalt rock, with large tusks, huge bat wings, and a barbed chain of burning iron in its fist.

"I am the Detainee, The Lady Lord of Hell," the beast roared.

The cube squeaked and turned off.

The lights came back on.

Dambree reached forward and picked up the holocube. "Sentimental," she said, putting it in her pocket.

Aunt Fenn hugged her niece.

The Treana'ad broke the silence.

"Well, that's two really good character references," he said, giving the clicking equivalent of a snicker.

Aunt Fenn felt proud of herself that the most she had done was just squeeze her niece a little tighter than she meant to.

After a long moment the senior supervisor shook her head. "All right. Let's get your picture, your biometrics, and a phasic scan."

She waved and led Dambree over to a cubicle.

"This is gonna be good," the Treana'ad said, following along.

Aunt Fenn noticed he'd lit a cigarette and was puffing out smoke rings around the lower part of his legs.

"You need to take off your veil for the ID picture," the woman said.

Dambree reached up and removed the veil.

"You know what, you can put it on, sweetheart," the woman said. "I'll put a medical override, categorize it as a mental health waiver."

Dambree just shrugged. "My appearance is of no importance. It is what is in my heart that matters."

The woman nodded. "Enraged Phillip's words to the crowd at the ruins of The City of Hanging Song in the southern area of the Lands of Chosen."

Dambree just nodded.

When the phasic system came online it suddenly started to beep.

"That's why I came along," the Treana'ad said. He moved up and looked down. "Yup. That's her," he touched his implant and the computer beeped. "There you go."

"Well, you have a military waiver for your phasic ID, Miss Limberton," the woman said. She pulled the ID chit out and pressed it to the smart card for a moment. After a second she picked up the smart card and waved it, cooling it.

"There you go. Full citizenship," she said. She smiled. "You are hereby registered as a full citizen of the Confederacy and Hesstla, with all rights and privileges therein."

"Thank you," Dambree said.

"Have a nice day," the senior supervisor said.

"I'll walk you out," the Treana'ad said.

"Thank you," Dambree said at the same time as Aunt Fenn.

They walked silently, taking the Treana'ad elevator down to the underground parking garage. The Treana'ad led them to Aunt Fenn's car. Dambree got in slowly as Aunt Fenn turned to look at the Treana'ad.

'Why did you help us so much?" she asked.

The Treana'ad shrugged. "She looked like this was the kind of thing she needed help with," he said. "Army keeps me around here to handle cases like hers."

"Oh," Aunt Fenn said.

"You and her have a good day," the Treana'ad said, his voice getting an odd drawl. He touched the tip of a bladearm to the tip of his antenna. "Ma'am."

He turned and hurried away, crouched down slightly so he didn't scrape his head on the roof.

Aunt Fenn got in the car, carefully steering it out of the garage. When she got to the main road she turned on the navicomp then looked back at her niece.

Dambree's chin was resting on her chest and she was breathing slowly and evenly.

Fenn put the car on autodrive and quietly called her husband, letting him know they would be a little while longer.

The car moved effortlessly through traffic, just meandering on the traffic loop around the city, the rain pattering on the roof, the wipers thwapping back and forth, the tires hissing on the wet pavement.

Fenn sat and thought, glancing back at her niece now and then.

You protected us when we were in your world, a world we didn't understand, she thought, feeling resolve fill her. It's my turn to protect you in a world you don't understand any more.