LEGAL STUFF
The Super Dimension Fortress Macross Copyright © Mainichi Broadcasting, Big
West. The Super Dimension Fortress Macross: Flash Back 2012, The Super
Dimension Fortress Macross [the Movie]: Do You Remember Love?, and Macross
3D Copyright © Big West. Macross Plus Copyright © Big West/Macross Project.
Macross 7 Copyright © Big West, Macross 7 Project. Macross Dynamite 7
Copyright © Big West/OVA Macross 7 Project. Macross Zero Copyright © 2002
Big West/Macross Zero Project. Concepts, characters and setting used
without permission.
Original characters, ships, settings and mecha Copyright © 2002 Samuel Maverick.
This story would not be possible with out the inspiration of the good people at Studio Nue, the diverision of the games at the Anime Manga Roleplaying Network (www.unspacy.com) and the technical information from the Macross Compendium (www.anime.net/macross/).
No kittens were harmed in the production of this story
PROLOGUE Planet Avon, SM-1241 system, the Delta November 29, 2047
The eye wrenching, stomach twisting color effect of hyperspace dissolved in spray of green and white light. Teresa gazed out of the bridge viewing window with a sense of relief. She hated hyperspace with a passion. There were very few things she disliked more. The whirling colors and gavity disturbances were nausiating. She was glad to be back in real space once more.
"On projected course, sir," one of the Zentradi operators announced. "Velocity is nineteen kilometers per second. We will cross the terminator in eight minutes, and seventeen minutes to intercept."
"Thank you, Kurn," Jamar Onyeagu replied, over steepled fingers. Looking in his direction, Teresa suppressed a shudder. She had never really liked the man, but in recent years that feeling had evolved into a kind of creeping loathing. Onyeagu was definitely among that very things worse than hyperspace.
"I'll get the wings moving, by your leave," Teresa said, turning toward the bridge doors.
"No," Onyeagu didn't shift his position. Only the pale blue eye gave any sign of life. The other eye, milky white with scarring seemed completely dead, inspite of its movement. Not another muscle moved. The one clear eye bored into Teresa for a moment, before shifting back to the tactical display that now dominated the bridge. "Miss Vaninetti, I'll need you here, to coordinate the fighter groups. You are too valuable to risk out there, even for a mission of this level of import."
Teresa felt her jaw clench. That was an out and out lie. Teresa was certainly organized--a fair pilot and a better leader--but she was hardly indespensable. Onyeagu could do her job far better himself, and he knew it. Not to mention the four or five others who were better suited to the task. "Yes sir," Teresa replied, drawing his eye back to her for an instant. She felt suddenly trapped.
Perhaps it was her connection with Gewndolyn Stackhouse. Onyeagu had some kind of grudge against Teresa's former lover. And it wouldn't have been the first time he had tried to use Teresa as a pawn against Stack. If only he knew.
Teresa began coordinating the launch of various mecha. Setting up the combat formations and sector assingments took nearly ten minutes. It wasn't a task she relished. She wanted to be out there with them. Where she might be able to save lives. Of the crew, only she was aware that they were rushing headlong into an ambush. She had helped to arrange it after all. "All groups report ready to maneuver on your command, sir," she reported.
"Instruct them to maintain course and speed."
Teresa resisted the urge to turn around. She exchanged surprized glances with the communications officer, before relaying the order. It was the navigator, Kurn who pointed out the obvious.
"Sir, if we don't maneuver shortly, we will overshoot the target."
Onyeagu smiled. The boyish grin looked out of place on the pale gaunt man. "Ah, but that supposes that the convoy is our target totday," He sounded as though he wanted to laugh. Teresa was begining to think the joke was on her.
"Our objective is not a supplies raid," he explained in a more level tone. "The Vulcan ore processing platform has been a source of ready supplies for enemies, and a major reason for the failure of previous efforts to throw off the yoke of our U.N. oppressor. Today, that changes."
Teresa glanced over her should, and found Onyeagu looking directly at her, that cold, dead eye reflecting the light. She couldn't look away.
"Platform intercept in twelve minutes," Kurn reported.
Teresa turned back to the communications station biting her lower lip.
"Excellent," Onyeagu said. "Mr. Bunting, please escort Miss Vaninetti to the brig. I shall have some questions for her once this engagement is over."
Teresa bolted. If she could make the hangar deck, she could launch in her VF-14 and make planet fall on Avon in 20 minutes. Onyeagu would have to abondon his glorious attack if he tried to chase her down. Two running steps brought her the bridge door, which opened obediently. The companionway was wall to wall with guards.
Onyeagu chuckled, "I thought you might feel that way, Terry, but fear not. Your interrogation will be no more painful than you deserve."
Plans flew through Teresa's head. She could try to fight her way through, and likely recieve a royal beating. She could try bluffing, but at best it would delay the inevitable. The only viable option was to go for one of the guard's weapons. She'd be too far out of line for a clean shot at Onyeagu, but she deny him the satisfaction of killing her.
"Keep you friend close, and your enemies closer, so they say," Onyeagu taunted. "I intend to keep you very close for years to come."
"Sir, the plaform is within visual range," Kurn interrupted.
Teresa sagged slightly in defeat. She didn't have the guts for suicide. Not with Onyeagu dangling that sliver of hope. She cursed him, but nore more than she cursed herself.
Original characters, ships, settings and mecha Copyright © 2002 Samuel Maverick.
This story would not be possible with out the inspiration of the good people at Studio Nue, the diverision of the games at the Anime Manga Roleplaying Network (www.unspacy.com) and the technical information from the Macross Compendium (www.anime.net/macross/).
No kittens were harmed in the production of this story
PROLOGUE Planet Avon, SM-1241 system, the Delta November 29, 2047
The eye wrenching, stomach twisting color effect of hyperspace dissolved in spray of green and white light. Teresa gazed out of the bridge viewing window with a sense of relief. She hated hyperspace with a passion. There were very few things she disliked more. The whirling colors and gavity disturbances were nausiating. She was glad to be back in real space once more.
"On projected course, sir," one of the Zentradi operators announced. "Velocity is nineteen kilometers per second. We will cross the terminator in eight minutes, and seventeen minutes to intercept."
"Thank you, Kurn," Jamar Onyeagu replied, over steepled fingers. Looking in his direction, Teresa suppressed a shudder. She had never really liked the man, but in recent years that feeling had evolved into a kind of creeping loathing. Onyeagu was definitely among that very things worse than hyperspace.
"I'll get the wings moving, by your leave," Teresa said, turning toward the bridge doors.
"No," Onyeagu didn't shift his position. Only the pale blue eye gave any sign of life. The other eye, milky white with scarring seemed completely dead, inspite of its movement. Not another muscle moved. The one clear eye bored into Teresa for a moment, before shifting back to the tactical display that now dominated the bridge. "Miss Vaninetti, I'll need you here, to coordinate the fighter groups. You are too valuable to risk out there, even for a mission of this level of import."
Teresa felt her jaw clench. That was an out and out lie. Teresa was certainly organized--a fair pilot and a better leader--but she was hardly indespensable. Onyeagu could do her job far better himself, and he knew it. Not to mention the four or five others who were better suited to the task. "Yes sir," Teresa replied, drawing his eye back to her for an instant. She felt suddenly trapped.
Perhaps it was her connection with Gewndolyn Stackhouse. Onyeagu had some kind of grudge against Teresa's former lover. And it wouldn't have been the first time he had tried to use Teresa as a pawn against Stack. If only he knew.
Teresa began coordinating the launch of various mecha. Setting up the combat formations and sector assingments took nearly ten minutes. It wasn't a task she relished. She wanted to be out there with them. Where she might be able to save lives. Of the crew, only she was aware that they were rushing headlong into an ambush. She had helped to arrange it after all. "All groups report ready to maneuver on your command, sir," she reported.
"Instruct them to maintain course and speed."
Teresa resisted the urge to turn around. She exchanged surprized glances with the communications officer, before relaying the order. It was the navigator, Kurn who pointed out the obvious.
"Sir, if we don't maneuver shortly, we will overshoot the target."
Onyeagu smiled. The boyish grin looked out of place on the pale gaunt man. "Ah, but that supposes that the convoy is our target totday," He sounded as though he wanted to laugh. Teresa was begining to think the joke was on her.
"Our objective is not a supplies raid," he explained in a more level tone. "The Vulcan ore processing platform has been a source of ready supplies for enemies, and a major reason for the failure of previous efforts to throw off the yoke of our U.N. oppressor. Today, that changes."
Teresa glanced over her should, and found Onyeagu looking directly at her, that cold, dead eye reflecting the light. She couldn't look away.
"Platform intercept in twelve minutes," Kurn reported.
Teresa turned back to the communications station biting her lower lip.
"Excellent," Onyeagu said. "Mr. Bunting, please escort Miss Vaninetti to the brig. I shall have some questions for her once this engagement is over."
Teresa bolted. If she could make the hangar deck, she could launch in her VF-14 and make planet fall on Avon in 20 minutes. Onyeagu would have to abondon his glorious attack if he tried to chase her down. Two running steps brought her the bridge door, which opened obediently. The companionway was wall to wall with guards.
Onyeagu chuckled, "I thought you might feel that way, Terry, but fear not. Your interrogation will be no more painful than you deserve."
Plans flew through Teresa's head. She could try to fight her way through, and likely recieve a royal beating. She could try bluffing, but at best it would delay the inevitable. The only viable option was to go for one of the guard's weapons. She'd be too far out of line for a clean shot at Onyeagu, but she deny him the satisfaction of killing her.
"Keep you friend close, and your enemies closer, so they say," Onyeagu taunted. "I intend to keep you very close for years to come."
"Sir, the plaform is within visual range," Kurn interrupted.
Teresa sagged slightly in defeat. She didn't have the guts for suicide. Not with Onyeagu dangling that sliver of hope. She cursed him, but nore more than she cursed herself.