"Any weapons?" one said. "We trying to get rid of all weapons."

The women, ages 52 to 73, are Roman Catholic nuns and part of a radical peace movement known as Plowshares. They staged a protest Saturday at Peterson Air Force Base's air show. The action came exactly 20 years after the first Plowshares protest.

Working in two groups about 40 feet apart at Peterson, the sisters used hammers to hit a fighter jet and a satellite receiver, then tried to throw their own blood on the equipment - in one case successfully.

The sisters were made aware of pending criminal mischief charges in their first court appearance Monday. They could face additional charges when they are formally arraigned next week.

Bond was set at $1,000, but none of the women, all long-time activists, plans to bond out. They want their case to go to trial, giving them a forum to express their views.

They said they are ready to serve time in jail, as each has done before. They are representing themselves in court, though a local attorney has volunteered to help them.

"We genuinely believe we are not guilty," said Sister Liz Walters, 57, of Detroit during an jailhouse interview this week. "We are upholding God's law and international law."

The Air Force and Colorado Springs Police Department take a different view. They see the protest as an attempt to damage multimillion-dollar equipment. City police are handling the case because Peterson is on city land.

The women, none of whom lives in Colorado Springs, are all sisters in good standing of the Roman Catholic Church, working in peace and poverty projects around the country.

One of the Peterson suspects, Sister Anne Montgomery, 73, of Brooklyn was at the first Plowshares protest at a General Electric plant in Pennsylvania in 1980.

The women said they began planning Saturday's protest nine months ago when they formed what they call Sacred Earth and Space Plowshares 2000.

In considering places for a protest, the Springs stood out because it's home to all U.S. military space operations. In particular, the nuns object to Space Command's plan for dominating and exploiting space.

"This is a very important place for us," said Sister Carol Gilbert, 52, of Baltimore. "We will not be complicit with (Space Command's plans)."

Officials with Space Command declined to comment on the action, other than to give details of what happened.

The sisters wanted to stage a protest around Sept. 9 to mark the 20th anniversary of the 1980 Pennsylvania protest. It was providence, or God's will, they said, that Peterson's air show - the biggest in the Springs in three years - landed exactly on the anniversary.

On Saturday, the sisters entered the show and began scouting out the displays. They picked their targets: a Marine Corps $24 million F/A-18 Hornet fighter jet, which has been used to bomb Iraq, an action the nuns strongly oppose; and a ground station for the $32 billion Milstar satellite communications system.

Their aim, the nuns said, was to symbolically disarm the equipment but avoid injuring anyone or acting in a threatening way.

Split into two groups, the nuns exchanged hand signals at 10:15 a.m. and began the protest. At the F/A-18, the nuns walked up to the aircraft, hammered the plane's bomb carriage and then threw a baby's bottle of their blood on the landing gear.

When military members noticed them, the nuns said they dropped their hammers, got on their knees and prayed.

At the satellite display, the nuns said they ducked under a rope around the exhibit and began hammering the equipment and unfurled a banner. Before they could throw blood, Air Force security seized them.

Air Force technicians collected the fluid. Col. Robin Chandler, a Peterson spokeswoman, said tests showed it was a mixture of human blood and corn syrup. The nuns said it was all blood from their bodies.

Chandler said the damage done to both displays was minimal. The F/A-18 took off later that day.

As they were booked, the nuns sang and prepared for a ritual of their activism: time behind bars.

For now, the sisters will sit in jail waiting to see what the judicial system will do to them. They said most of their family members know where they are.

"They love us. They wish maybe we could do it another way," Gilbert said.

The women said they all also engage in less radical protesting: carrying signs, handing out fliers, praying in vigils. Montgomery said she is sometimes asked why she chooses a more radical path to protesting.

"People say, 'Why don't you write to your congressman?' Because it doesn't work," said Montgomery, a slight woman with tiny arms and pure white hair. "You have to put your feet where your mouth is. Breaking the law is sometimes the only way to get people to take notice."

As the nuns walked out of the jail visiting room, their beige plastic sandals flopping, they each smiled and waved. The last one flashed a peace sign.