Saint Mary
Alwen considered the dark liquor in her crystal glass, normally she tried to stay away from hard alcohol, especially the paint thinner that Terrans had distilled from wheat and rye. A couple glasses of beer was more than enough to make her feel tipsy, but tonight she needed something much more potent than beer. And this dark amber liquid promised to be everything she needed.
The operation had gone off without a hitch, which was amazing considering the fact that Alwen had never studied to preform brain surgery, let alone on an alien brain in an attempt to fuse her atrophied nerves to the synthetic ones of a highly advanced cybernetic eye. That kind of thing was the sort of stuff professionals spent a lifetime studying to specialize in. Part of the success was owed to the incredibly advanced mobile micro filaments that could work with a precision that just wasn’t possible with organic limbs. Medical innovations like that machine promised to revolutionize the entire art of brain surgery and could one day lead to therapies capable of correcting a spinal injury. And the Toy Man didn’t even seem to hold it within high regard, sure he was proud of it. But he seemed to view it as only a means to further advance in his research, not as a tool that could change the entire field of medicine.
The Toy Man had been an odd partner throughout the whole operation, at times he truly shocked Alwen with his knowledge and abilities. He seemed extraordinarily adept at this sort of procedure. But at other times he was lacking in some very basic medical knowledge that every first-year med students learned, she at times had to grab him by his one remaining arm to stop him from doing irreversible damage. Throughout the whole operation Alwen slowly came to the shocking revelation that the Toy Man was self-taught, teaching himself enough to begin pioneering the field of advanced cybernetics, but glossing over some of the basics. Alwen saw firsthand why the Captain had wanted Alwen there.
The Toy Man for his part was very polite and apologetic for his mistakes, and had made polite small talk as he removed part of Astarte’s skull. Even during the most precise and attention demanding portions of the surgery he kept up the conversation without any noticeable dip in focus. He seemed nice enough once Alwen got more used to the extensive modifications he had made to his body, but there was always a slight disconnect that made the conversation awkward. Like his brain wasn’t properly wired for talking with other people, and he had to create a façade of social graces.
But nothing had gone wrong, the eye was attached without any rejection from Astarte’s immune system, and the computer running diagnostics gave them the all clear sign. They had patched her back together, bandaged half of her head, and began to prepare treatments for her recovery. That was when a troop of dark armored women clomped into the Toy Man’s sanctuary, Alwen couldn’t see their faces but the heavy broad swords on their backs told Alwen that these people were the Maidens of New-Mombasa. They transferred Astarte to a gurney and led Alwen to a rampway out the back of the sanctuary that ran directly into the bar where Alwen now found herself. The Maidens had barred Alwen from entering the private area where they had stashed Astarte, and had told her to wait for their boss.
And so now here she was, alone on an alien planet, in a completely foreign city, in a bar she didn’t know the name of. The atmosphere around her felt cozy and pleasant enough for Alwen to feel comfortable removing her hand from Makaze’s handle. People at the bar politely ordered drinks from the bartenders, only speaking just loud enough to be heard over smooth brassy sounds of the jazz band in the corner. Most people avoided sitting at the main bar, instead opting to find a quiet little nook where they could enjoy some privacy with the alluringly dressed men and women who wandered the main floor of this establishment. A few times Alwen saw a man or women lead their handsome companion to a hidden set a stairs and disappeared for the remainder of the night.
That was all the clues Alwen needed to deduce the nature of this establishment’s business. And while such things were legal throughout much of Torwen, there was still a heavy stigma around those establishments, and the desperate people who found no choice but to work there.
A women in front of Alwen cleared her throat “As pretty as scotch looks, I can assure you that its better enjoyed orally” the women said in familiar coy tone.
“Pardon?” Alwen asked as something about the women’s demeanor tickled the back of her mind. The woman had skin as dark as Karega’s, stood just a little taller than Alwen, and had woven gold and platinum beads into the long braids of her rich black hair. Her smile was brilliantly white, and hinted at a deep seeded mischievous streak. She wore a colorful, if fancy looking dress that left the full length of her tightly muscled arms exposed. She wore many golden bracelets, matched with the dark cozy interior of the bar Alwen found herself in, it was almost enough to cover the ring of scars around her wrists, and the more gruesome slash like scars that ran the length of her biceps. Her dark brown eyes looked kind and sympathetic, but something deeper within them told Alwen that this young-looking women was far older than she seemed.
Terrans had been given life and youth extending medicines, miraculous drugs that the Union gave out for free at every public hospital. It had seemed like a blessing to the masses, more time to spend with your loved ones, the ability to remain young and healthy for far longer than what was natural. But in reality it had proven to be the final blow to an already over inflated labor market. People who had been with their companies for twenty or thirty years all of the sudden had an extra fifty years of vitality left in them, there wasn’t any press to train young new hires to replace their experienced workers. The rate of young people incapable of finding work after years of schooling ballooned overnight, and with loans to pay off they turned to whatever means they could to pay off their student debts. It was hard to tell a Terran’s age from their appearance, but something within their eyes spoke of age and experience.
“You’ve been staring into your drink for the last five minutes dear” she said softly, with a polite dip of her head to the drink in Alwen’s hand.
“Can you blame me, I’m an alien on a planet with a long history of violent xenophobia. Being drunk in a city I don’t know isn’t exactly to smartest thing for me to do.” Alwen said in exasperation.
“Then why order a glass of our oldest vintage?” she asked, there was nothing condescending about her voice, just genuine curiosity.
“Because I just preformed a complicated brain surgery in your basement with no forewarning or prep time, and it isn’t even the craziest thing I’ve done this year.” Alwen said as she finally brought the drink up to her lips. Just the fumes of this drink would have been enough to get drunk on. It went down like liquid fire, and only seconds after it hit her stomach Alwen began to feel a gentle warmth fill her center.
The woman smiled, and Alwen felt her heart flutter just a little. “Sounds like my daughter has dragged you to hell and back again.”
“Daughter?”
She gracefully extended her hand and Alwen shook it, the skin of her hands was soft, but Alwen could feel a hard-earned muscles underneath. “Mary the Maiden, I’m Aster’s adoptive mother”
“As in Saint Mary?” Alwen asked, she had heard the crew on board occasionally mention this woman’s name and legend.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“That’s one name they call me, though I am not an actual saint.” She said with a soft chuckle.
Alwen looked around the room and suddenly a few mysteries clicked together. “So that’s why they brought the captain here.”
“There’s no place in New-Mombasa safer than here, it is my bastion and I keep it well armed. If you need somewhere safe to sleep off the drink I can have a clean room readied for you.”
Alwen considered her words as the last prospective paring stood up and moved towards the stairs, their hands seemed incapable of separating from each other’s bodies for the few seconds it would take to reach a more private space. Once they had ascended up the stairs Alwen was left all alone in the bar with Saint Mary the Maiden. She smiled at the Captain’s mother “another if you’d please.”
She smiled back and reached under the bar for a new glass, she poured another for Alwen and one for herself “This one is on me, so long as you tell me just how my daughter lost an eye.”
“She didn’t tell you herself?” Alwen asked.
“No, she likes to keep her ship’s business to herself. The day she decided to leave Earth to hunt down her birth mother she didn’t even think to tell me where she was going.”
“So she just left without saying a word?”
“Oh, no. I have raised that girl since she was in diapers, I knew that something was off with her when she came down into main bar and charmed one of my younger girls. She had shown very little interest into my business, didn’t even try to sneak drinks from the bar like some of the other children I’ve raised. But then out of the blue she sits at the bar sipping a virgin cocktail, charming a girl who was nervous about her first time. When they were done having their fun I cornered her and made her talk, twisted her ear like I did when she was only knee high.”
“And then you just let her go off and become a space pirate?” Alwen asked.
“I knew that there was no stopping Aster, I just wanted to know where she was going, and to tell her that I loved her. I didn’t see her until years later, she strolled through the front door all grown up, sword at her hip, and her mother in tow. Told me that they had both changed their names and now had some ships they needed to crew.”
Alwen caught onto something Mary had left unsaid “How old was she, when she left I mean?”
Mary considered Alwen “Only fifteen, just turned in fact.”
“That’s, so young!”
“Yes, but the only way I could have stopped her is if I clamped her in chains. Even then I’m afraid she would have tried to chew her arm off in order to escape.” She sighed, and Alwen saw that this woman had worried about the Captain everyday she was gone. “Now, I’ve told you part of her story, now I would like to hear yours.”
Alwen gave her a brief summary of her life on Torwen, told her about her first mission aboard the Astaroth. Told Mary about her scare in Parox and how the Bosun had rescued her, then Mary had told Alwen how the Bosun was an old friend of hers. By the time Alwen told her about the ambush on Femeri she was two drinks in, and still choked up as she remembered Wraith and Sean. She breezed on to her time on the pirate capital, the battle with Kazlum, and how they had all feared that Astarte was dead.
Mary listened patiently the whole time and poured Alwen a third glass when she had reached the end of her story. “That all seems very harrowing, I can see why your so hesitant about fully joining on.”
“That’s the worse part about all of it, the more I think about it, the more I can only see why the logical conclusion is to just take the mark and accept my lot in all this insanity.” Alwen said, her vision was getting a little fuzzy, and her head was dipping just a bit.
“If it all seems so logical, then why haven’t you?” she asked.
“Because its like, like there’s one little string of morality holding me back. One that’s afraid that I’ll be losing my last shred of integrity, but another part of me is wondering if I’ll do more good by joining up fully. And I just don’t know what to think. Like, is it wrong to do bad things for good reasons and ever gooder outcomes.” Alwen quirked her head to the side. “Gooder? Gooder, why does that sound wrong to say. It should be grammatically correct, right?”
“Doing bad things for good reasons?” Mary said, her voice was filled with something Alwen couldn’t quiet put her thumb on. Like this woman had spent a lifetime pondering the very same question. “Would you like to hear a story?” she asked mysteriously.
Alwen glanced up at her and considered her for a second, the story would likely be very sad, much of the Hellworlders lives seemed to be filled with misery and suffering. But there was always a nugget of knowledge and experience to be gained from them. Alwen nodded her head, and then rested it on a hand as the room began to spin.
“Decades ago New-Mombasa was playground for the rich and corrupt, powerful people toying with the lives of others as they saw fit. Their poison had fed the sex trade until girls could be taken off the streets in broad daylight, never to be seen again. I was one such girl as I’m sure you have guessed” She said, gesturing to the bands of scars around her wrist. The kind Alwen had seen on the Torweni slaves they had rescued from the Kruhur. Alice had once told Alwen that brothels that bought unwilling ‘chattle’ had been common across Terra, until the Maidens ended it by force.
Mary saw Alwens understanding “Yes, I tore the pipe I was chained to clean off the wall with my own manacles and used it to bludgeon in my ‘masters’ head. I found a Scottish welder who cut my chains off and taught me how to be stronger. A rough and grizzled man who became a lifelong friend and ally. When I was healed I took a thick bit of scrap steel and ground a blade into its edges and fashioned it into a broadsword.” She gestured to a beaten and chipped sword hanging behind her, its handle was little more than a thin section of metal wrapped in cloth. “I found a small back-alley operation and ended it with brutal prejudice. The girls and boys I freed joined me and my hunt, and we ironically named ourselves the Maidens. Eventually we got our hands on some real guns which made dispatching the scum a lot easier, most chose to keep carrying their swords as a symbol of what we were. We built our base and furthered our brutal conquest of this city’s scum, and eventually came into contact with the Terran Terrors. Our goals were aligned so we began to collaborate, we got cocky and brazen and one day we decided to start targeting the real kingpins of this city’s darkness. And our first target was the chief of police who chose to look the other way for a fortunes worth of bribes, we busted down his door in city hall and beheaded him in front of the mayor.”
Mary smiled and Alwen saw just where Astarte had picked up her devilish nature “That’s when it all went to hell in a hand basket. Open warfare in the streets, ambushes on cops, martial law, widespread riots. And the Terrors took advantage of it all, nearly three attacks every day. Union ground troops blockaded the city and were getting ready to storm New-Mombasa, we were readying for all out war. And then-“her smile faded “-and then the tower fell. Fire, rubble, ash, panic, it was bad. And the people who were supposed to help and respond to something like that, the cops and firemen, they had fled the city in fear of me and my Maidens. We knew a choice had to be made, so we put down our guns and blades and began digging through the rubble. We were exhausted and completely exposed, but our enemies instead of attacking when we were vulnerable, put away their own weapons and joined us.” There was a tear in her eyes. “After that there was an accords, we negotiated our issues and began to put this city back together. Us, the criminals, rebels, and terrorists, stopped fighting and became the order this city needed. Now we are the cops, the firemen, the judges, and jailers. This city is still a dangerous place, but because of us people are beginning to flourish. There’s still poverty, orphans, and prostitutes, but because of us those hard lives are just a little bit easier. None of my girls aren’t here by force, it’s their choice, and they can leave when they’re done with this whenever they want.”
Alwen was quiet as she pondered on the woman’s story “So, ultimately the ends justify the means.” Alwen said in defeat.
Saint Mary scoffed. “Of course not. If you ask me, doing bad things for good reasons is a petty justification for destructive actions. You missed the point of my tale. Sure, in the end it all worked out about as best as it could, but that wasn’t guaranteed. We were so embroiled in our vendettas that we didn’t care about the consequences of our actions, we did things because we ‘felt’ it needed to be done, no matter how self-destructive it ultimately was. If we had just stopped to think for a bit then we might have seen just how unhinged our actions were, we were just stabbing and shotting our problems, not actually working towards a real solution. If we really wanted to do some good then we should have taken a page out of the Vet clans playbook, let bygones be bygones and work towards peace and security. We got there eventually, but the mountain of corpses we had to climb to get here could have been avoided.”
Alwen thought for a moment, “Then what about the Hellworlders and what they’re doing? Is it not the same?”
Mary frowned “Hard to say, I have tried to teach Aster from a very young age that the ends don’t justify the means, but she’s to much like myself and her other mother to really see the truth of it all. She’s sees an enemy and sets herself on the surest path to rain hellfire and brimstone on them. But despite that she does understands that not everyone is necessarily an enemy, and she limits herself. Given the circumstances of her life one might forgive her for trying to burn the whole world down around her, but she would never forgive herself for all the needless carnage. She treads a very fine line, one that is very easy to get lost on” she said gravely.
Alwen lost herself in contemplation, and Saint Mary was kind enough not to interrupt the hard truths that were solidifying in Alwen’s mind. Slowly her perception of the situation changed, she no longer thought of it as doing bad things for good reasons, but instead as simply doing what they had to. Because when faced with total annihilation or the loss of free will any alternative is preferable.
The thought made her head hurt, or maybe it was the scotch. Or maybe the scotch had brought on those thoughts, and in the morning she would realize that they made no sense whatsoever.
Saint Mary saw Alwen’s pained expression and poured a glass of water and passed it to Alwen. “Drink this, when your done there’s a room waiting for you. Third floor, fourth room down.”
Alwen thanked her, drained her water, and made her way over to the stairs in the corner. Alwen looked back one last time to see that Saint Mary had poured a fourth glass for herself and was also starring deeply into her drink.