Disclaimer: Don't own it. If I did, I wouldn't have left the ending so open.

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Elmo Kridanik considered himself a lucky man. First, he had happened across Ranka Lee singing a street concert in Formo, and managed to, through some effort, convince her and her brother to let him be her agent. After a few false starts, he managed to get her a bit part in Bird Human, where her natural talent quickly appealed to the director, and when one of the supporting actresses was in an accident, his girl was in place to take over. Ranka's career took off, and suddenly he was the manager of the Next Big Star.

Then disaster, at least on a personal level. Ranka's ability to affect the Vajra made her a valuable individual, and he was replaced by someone that was more in line with the government's way of thinking. And he knew that that Grace person wasn't good for Ranka, she was manipulative and self-serving – look how she dropped poor Sheryl! Then, Elmo's luck turned around again. Sheryl Nome was now without an agent, and after a little work, started singing again, doing more intimate appearances, with Elmo as her agent. She quickly recovered, and those venues would have quickly built up into something big again, when fate interceded and put her on the front lines of the final battle of the Human-Vajra war.

Suddenly, Sheryl was big news again, and then Ranka returned to Frontier, and both Grace O'Conner and that government weasel Mishima were out of the picture. Elmo approached Ranka and she was thrilled to have him back as her manager, saying that she would have been happy with him the whole time.

Now, Elmo was the agent for quite possibly the two biggest stars in the galaxy. He was still getting fold-com messages from all over, from colonization fleets flung far and wide, all asking if Ranka and Sheryl were going to do a tour, and would they consider coming to their colony? After a few months you'd think the hype would die down, but sales of song files had continued to soar, to the point where the only modern artist who had outsold the pair was the legendary Lynn Minmay herself! He needed to sit the two girls down and have a long talk with them, because for the most part, they were unaware of what had been going on! Ranka was extremely busy between school, acting as the intermediary between the Vajra and the government, and the occasional appearance, and Sheryl was throwing herself fully into her schoolwork, as well as doing charity appearances and a few club gigs with a short set of her slower songs. The whole colony, for the most part, was busy trying to get settled and get food production started outside of the surviving Islands, and hadn't been paying much attention to what was happening in the galaxy at large. The government knew, of course, and the military, but Ranka and Sheryl's status as stars was probably low on the list of concerns.

Elmo, on the other hand, was very aware, and while his contract with both of the girls was fairly modest, about four percent, the shear volume of sales recently meant that he was rapidly becoming rather rich. This actually bothered him, to a certain extent. He knew that his way of thinking was naïve, but to him, it had always been about the music. Deculture. Ranka and Sheryl both had a gift, and Elmo saw his job as helping as many people as possible to experience that gift. That was why he worked with artists like Tokugawa, who was trying to create music out of the roots of zentran culture. While the zentran struggled in his efforts, Elmo thought that his mission was a good one, and he gave his fellow zentran his full effort in promoting him.

Elmo believed firmly that there was no such thing as bad publicity.

The fact of the matter was, though, that the girls needed to do some kind of tour. With the new fold drives using the Vajra crystal coming out, they could do tours like musical groups did back on pre-contact Earth, a different city every other night! A month or two and they could hit most of the major colonial fleets and all the colonies, and the girls would be the biggest stars, ever! The whole galaxy would know the music of Sheryl Nome and Ranka Lee!

He just hoped he could convince them to do it.

FTPFTPFTPFTP

With a sigh, Cathy Glass set aside the latest report on the colony. The government was a mess; between purging people associated with the Galaxy plot and the losses from the last battle, there were gaping holes in the government structure, as well as the military high command, even now. The people didn't know who to trust, and holding an election when the people were more concerned with surviving was difficult, never mind the fact that there weren't any solid candidates. Most of her father's senior cabinet members were dead or part of the plot, and the legislature was mostly made up of yes-men and representatives beholden to the various corporate entities. She supposed that was business as usual for government, but right now they needed a strong leader.

She suppressed the urge to growl. After the end of the war, Captain Wilder would have been an ideal candidate, until the scandal with Monica Lange broke. People trusted SMS, seeing them as the force that found the real reason behind the war, and the fact that Sheryl Nome and Ranka Lee, the two most popular and visible individuals in the colony, were both chasing an SMS pilot just added to their popularity. SMS also had some of the few publicly accessible zentran micro/macro tanks since the destruction of Island 3, and the group had something like a 90% approval rating with the zentran population.

The zentran were also highly upset with the government and the destruction of Island 3, and the forced micronization of the whole population. She had heard mutterings of 'Pariya's Syndrome' among the adult zentran, and what she had learned had shocked her. There were children of all ages, and the only suggestion that the doctors had was to leave the zentran children micronized until they grew up. With most of the zentran parents working in jobs that required them to be macronized, there were long lines every night for the micronization process so the parents could rejoin their children. Macronization seemed to be the key to Pariya's syndrome; some of the research done on Lt. Commander Klan Klan had pointed in that direction, so as long as the children remained micronized, they might dodge the bullet on that issue, but they were looking at years for some of the children, and the parents were needed in their macro size to handle all sorts of work for the colony. They could assemble prefab buildings in a few days, putting them together like models, where a micronized crew would take weeks. They needed more micro/macro tanks, and there weren't many on Island 1. It was a massive headache. If SMS hadn't stepped up, there was no telling what kind of mess they might have had. Parents and children separated by size for weeks or months, or face the risk of being stuck a child in their micronized form forever.

Cathy gave a sigh. She couldn't blame Captain Wilder, or Monica, and in fact the whole thing was incredibly stupid. It was the military making a big deal over something that wasn't even under their jurisdiction anymore, but their attitudes had poisoned the atmosphere around Wilder, and they would dig in their heels and fight if he were brought forth as a candidate for colonial president. Not that he wanted the job, as he much preferred being a ship captain, but she could have convinced him that he was what the colony needed. Now, it wasn't even worth trying. Damn military.

The NUNS military was another huge issue. They had lost quite a few ships and fighters, and their remaining fighters were almost all VF-171 and VF-171EX Valkyries. They had gutted their fleet of VF-11's and cost intensive VF-19's years ago, and while a handful remained on Battle Frontier, the majority that had remained were lost onboard ships that were destroyed. The 171EX was a fine space fighter, but in the words of Saotome Alto, it handled like a pig in atmosphere. It was a harsh, unforgiving craft outside of a space environment and NUNS wasn't going to risk pilots and fighters for atmospheric patrols. The two dozen VF-11's NUNS had were being used for patrols, and the half-dozen VF-19's were alert craft, ready for emergencies but otherwise only flown to keep the pilots certified, due to the high maintenance requirements for the fighters, but other than that, they had no atmospheric craft at all. L.A.I. was building more VF-25's, but the first of those were going to SMS, who knew how to use them and were willing to pay for the latest and greatest. NUNS was still hemming and hawing over the 25, and it made Cathy want to resign about once a week. If it weren't for the influence she could bring on the government and the military with her father's name, she probably would have; for now, she had more utility to the colony serving in NUNS uniform, but the day would come when she wore SMS colors instead.

Richard Birla was a godsend, in a way. He had come clean about his involvement in the Galaxy plot, confessed to his reasoning, and made no excuses. He had given control of the majority of his personal fortune over to SMS and completely severed any ties the military contractor had to Birla's shipping company. SMS now had the financial wherewithal to expand their operation greatly, and Cathy had seen the orders for enough fighters for eight more whole squadrons of twelve, replacements for all of the lost Skull and Wraith squadron fighters, plus backups; four more Koenig Monsters (which was a frightening thought) all the way from Earth, another three units of Cheyenne destroids, and all sorts of support equipment for all that metal. Birla had been released on his own recognizance (where would he go?) and the former owner of SMS seemed truly contrite. He had wanted to find the lost Megaroad-1 and Lynn Minmay, and although the methods were wrong, there was no deceit or lust for power in his mind.

And then there were the Vajra. While the mother-queen had departed, several junior queens remained. From what Ranka could tell them, the mother-queen had left to remove any temptation by the Galaxy conspirators to try again. No one knew where she had gone, which was fine with Cathy. However, the Vajra weren't going to leave Ranka and Sheryl, their two queens-who-were-not-queens (that interpretation had come from Sheryl), unprotected. There were still tens of thousands of Vajra in the hive construct (and the science boffins still weren't sure if the hive was a Protoculture structure taken over by the Vajra, or a Vajra construct that the Protoculture then emulated) and they were still wary of humans. The colonists, and especially the government, were worried about doing something to offend the Vajra and renew the conflict, and so Ranka was needed to consult about every little thing, and the girl was near her breaking point. Ozma was ready to start kicking some ass, and it was a good thing that she was into her second trimester and was horny as hell, because sex seemed to be the only thing that distracted him.

Cathy chuckled, her pregnancy had gone rather well, and she hadn't had any bouts of morning sickness, much to Bobby Margot's chagrin. She got motion sick, true, but she hadn't had one problem with morning sickness, and delighted in indulging some of the more bizarre cravings she had developed recently in front of Bobby, often turning his stomach. Okay, so Tabasco covered Natto was probably extremely foul to anyone who was not pregnant (Monica seemed to like it, too), but she didn't think someone with Bobby's skin tone could actually look green like that. And she didn't know where Monica had found the recipe for something called a Chupaqueso, which was crispy fried cheese filled with cheese, wrapped up like an oversized egg roll, but it was good! And high in calcium.

She gave another sigh and dove back into her paperwork. Maybe she would push Wilder into running for president anyway. Preferably before all this paperwork drove her over the edge.

Maybe she should have been an idol singer.

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The Macross Quarter bridge operators were enjoying a rare day off. Once Alto and Klan's patrol had returned, SMS had a 36-hour down time from patrol, which the crew was using to do some preventative maintenance on the radar and com systems. With those major systems shut down, the Captain had decided to go on a minimal watch, with Captain Bobby drawing the short straw and being stuck on watch for the first shift. The girls had quickly changed and were now wandering around FrontierCity, which was mostly repaired at this point.

Despite their closeness on the bridge, the girls didn't often hang out together. Their schedules didn't often give them time off together, and they had different interests. Mina was quiet and often spent her free time reading, while Ram loved surfing the net and finding new things. Monica had been taking cooking classes and was working toward getting her Operator's license, which was the next step on her quest to get certified as a ship commander. The redhead wanted to be her Captain's executive officer as well as his wife. Mina and Ram both thought she was a little crazy, but Monica was happy, so it was her business.

They had stopped in at Nyan-Nyan for lunch, mostly to talk to Saotome's friend Nanase. The plunette was always up on the newest gossip about Alto, Ranka, and Sheryl, since she was friends with all three, and Monica could usually find something to appease whatever craving popped up.

"Nihao, welcome to Nyan-Nyan!" Nanase called when they walked in, giving the standard greeting. She liked the SMS operators; they were the ones who helped keep Luca and Alto safe, something she truly appreciated. They were all wearing casual clothes with SMS jackets on, and as she led the trio to a table several people, including an obvious zentran family, turned and thanked them as they passed. All three looked a little embarrassed, and the waitress almost laughed.

"Do you know what you want today?" she asked as they settled, and the plunette and rosette looked to the redhead. Nanase couldn't remember their names right off the top of her head, her memory was still a little spotty from her injuries months ago. She still couldn't actually carry the food out to her tables, but the manager liked her, and her physical charms made up for her limited ability, as far as customer service was concerned, so he considered it a wash.

Monica noticed both the other girls looking at her, and said "What?" They both giggled, and she sighed. "I'll have an order of pineapple buns and tuna buns, and some of that plum sauce on the side, and some tea."

"That was almost tame," Mina commented, and Ram nodded.

Monica shrugged. "I've got some wasabi ice cream in the freezer at home," she said, and both girls grimaced.

"Weird cravings?" Nanase asked, and all three nodded, before – Monica! That was her name! – shot her companions a betrayed look. "Ranka said that Cathy is doing the same thing, something about Tabasco and Natto?"

"It's good!" Monica chirped, and all three stared at her incredulously. "What, it is! Okay, I wouldn't like either normally, but right now it's really good."

"I can't even stand to smell either one, and together?" Mina replied. "I suppose I'll do the same thing if I ever have children, although weird cravings alone are a huge argument against it."

Ram nodded. "Although I'm learning a lot about pregnancy watching the two of you. Did you see Captain Bobby's face when Lt. Glass started sprinkling the Tabasco on her Natto? And then you asked her to pass the bottle over! I thought Bobby could stomach anything. He's managed to make almost everyone on the ship throw up at least once with his maneuvers; seeing him brought low by Natto was funny!"

Ram and Mina gave their orders and Nanase took them back, soon returning with their drinks. As she placed them around, Monica looked at her and asked, "Anything new and exciting?"

She looked around carefully. "Have you heard anything about the new marriage laws?"

The three bridge girls were surprised; they didn't think anything had made it out to the general public. Unless…

"The government is talking to Saotome and his girls?" Mina asked. She was the smart one, after all.

Nanase shrugged. "I don't know about Alto-kun, but I know that Klan was talking to Ranka and Sheryl about it yesterday. Well, I know she talked to Ranka, because Ranka talked about it to me a little bit at lunch, and Klan was with Sheryl all afternoon in Sheryl's X-gear classes. I would assume that if she mentioned it to Ranka, she'd mention it to Sheryl too; no sense in only one of them knowing about it."

Mina nodded. "I can see why they might do that. Sheryl Nome and Ranka Lee are definitely the two most well known people on the colony, and if they did it, it would be a lot more popular. And Saotome is highly regarded in his own right."

"Is the situation really that bad?" Nanase asked.

The other two bridge girls looked at Ram. She took a drink, and then nodded. "We lost most of our support fleet during the war, especially in the last battle. Something like eighty-nine percent of the ship's crews was male; NUNS is still very much a made-dominated organization. Also, most of the personnel that remained exposed on the Islands were male, while the women and children were put into shelters. Between the battle fleet and the Island crews, we lost almost 90,000 people during the war, and about 77,000 were men, and the ratio is that low only because of the civilian shelters that were hit. With the initial population skew of 560,000 women to 440,000 men, that leaves somewhere around between a three-to-five and a two-to-three ratio overall. However, among the child-bearing age, its pretty much centered at three-to-five, gutting the portion of the population that's supposed to be doing all the reproducing right now."

"How'd the population balance get so off?" the waitress asked, and the rosette operator shrugged.

"Mostly by design. The colony likes to have a surplus of women when they first start out, to attract immigration, bringing in some of the best and brightest from established colonies. A lot of soldiers settle on new colonies, too, after their term is up, because they get extra money if they emigrate to a new colony after their discharge. The colony brings in lots of fresh blood with technical skills developed outside of their education system, bringing ideas that they might not get, otherwise. Generally, the population surplus is soaked up within twenty to thirty years. We took a big hit, though, and it will take us a lot longer to recover." Ram shrugged. "It's a good idea in theory, but in practice, it's stupid; no one ever accused the government of being smart, though."

"So now they want to do this multiple spouse thing, to cover for the losses?" Nanase asked, somewhat rhetorically.

"Seems like it. And the Fairy, the Cinderella, and the Princess are right in the middle of it," Mina said.

The plunette waitress blinked. "I want to be happy for them, because they have had a rough time, recently. And they do all care for one another. But I don't think the pressure will be good for them, they already have a lot going on."

Monica gave a shrug. "I don't think the government much cares about that. They see their symbol, and will try to use it how they see fit."

Everyone grew silent at that. They all remembered how Ranka was used during the war, and how Sheryl, even though she was dying, allowed herself to be used as well. None of them wanted to see a repeat of that. But what could any of them do?

Lunch was quiet as the trio thought. No answers were forthcoming.

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Alto folded a paper airplane as the girls approached. Both seemed to be in good spirits, so he hoped that they had agreed to a mutual co-existence. He shook his head. What was wrong with him? Most men would just hop right into the idea of having two beautiful women all the time. Perhaps it was that he knew that it wasn't that easy. Both of the girls he loved had strong personalities, and while Ranka was more reserved, she wasn't shy or unconfident. Sooner or later the girls would have a problem with each other, and he would be in the middle of it.

Alto felt that he was an expert on how women thought; that is to say, he was certain that men would never understand them. While he was famous in his early life as a female impersonator, he was incapable of making that last leap and truly thinking like a woman. Even Bobby Margot wasn't particularly capable of understanding women, and he was certainly effeminate at times. So while Alto was hoping that his girls could come to an understanding, and he knew they cared for each other, he had no clue as to how they would actually react.

So, the two of them smiling was a good thing.

"Alto-kun!" Ranka called out loudly, waving. He waved back, and finished the last fold of the plane. He grasped it and flung it into the sky, watching it pass between Sheryl and Ranka before swooping up, settling at an altitude that carried it into the trees. He grimaced, that was one thing about being on this planet that he was growing to dislike: the planet had just under one gee, 0.96g to be exact, and everything was heavier, and his planes didn't fly as high or as far. It was just one more reason everyone was so tired.

"Got the trees again," Sheryl said. "I think either you need a slight change to the design, or a different launch technique."

"My mother taught me how to make paper planes that way. I'll just have to figure a way to launch them harder," Alto said, and both girls just nodded. Alto's mother was one of those sacred subjects that there was no discussion or argument about. Alto had enough trouble with his family without dredging up painful memories.

He looked at the two, marveling at their differences for a moment, and then shook away his feeling of whimsy. "Since neither of you are crying, and you're both here…are we going to try this?"

Ranka and Sheryl nodded. "I love you, Saotome Alto," Ranka said, her face flaming. "I would stay with you forever."

Sheryl stepped up and gave Alto a soft kiss on the lips. "You and Ranka are my family, Alto, all that I have. You see Sheryl, and you never cared who I was, other than your friend. I would be yours, and you and Ranka mine."

Alto reached out and Ranka took his hand, and he pulled her in and hugged both of them at once, then, in a rare public display for him, kissed first Ranka, and then Sheryl, on the lips firmly, leaving them both blushing quite fiercely. They broke the clench and Alto started to walk, holding each of their hands. The wrapped their other hands around his upper arms and walked with him.

For now, at least, life was good.

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Ozma Lee sat in his office, looking at the young officer in front of him. Lt. Nene Rora was a good fighter, and while she was shy in public, she was a good soldier as well. Something was wrong with the tall meltran, as she was fidgeting and seemed distracted. The interview was going nowhere currently, so finally, he set his computer pad aside and sat back.

"Lt. Rora, you've been with SMS for almost two years now. You know you can talk to me about anything, and I'm not going to hammer you for it. Unless it was truly and utterly stupid, of course. What's bothering you?"

Nene looked abashed. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm just concerned, sir." She was really bothered if she was calling him sir, as she had been around long enough to learn not to use it toward him.

"Concerned about?" He thought he knew where this was going, but he'd get a better answer if he didn't prompt too much.

"It's about Lt. Commander Klan, sir. She's not dealing with Lt. Braun's death well."

"Is this about her staying micronized?"

"Yes, sir," Nene replied. "We talked about her problems with micronization, back when Raramia was still alive. I probably shouldn't be talking about it, but I think it's important, sir. She doesn't…she can't…her micron body doesn't…oh, my, this is embarrassing…she has no interest in sex. Or anything else like that, she is still a child in that form. It's not emotionless, or anything like that; everyone knows how much of a temper she can have in that form. But it's like everything is duller for her, she said, once. She said it's easier to think, but I think it's also harder for her to feel. So she's pushing aside her physical desires and hiding in her child form, which doesn't have any. But she's also changing, and she used to be proud to be a meltrandi warrior! Now she seems to want to replace Michel, and I don't think it's healthy, not at all!" Nene slumped and took a deep breath, and Ozma realized that it was the longest he'd ever heard the rosette speak in one go.

"I understand your concerns, Lieutenant," he replied. "Unfortunately, we only have two Queadlunn suits at the moment, and we need to keep one for a spare. I have six more being delivered from the 25th Deep Space Assault Squadron, and they should be here in another week or two. Once I have them, I can order Klan out on a mission which will require her to macronize. I can't do more than that without crossing the line. I can't order her to macronize except for missions, and I can't make her stay that way. I know that the Lt. Commander is having problems, but I need every body I have right now, and right now she's functional. If I push the issue, she might break down, which would be better for her, but really bad for me. I also have the issue of tank time, and while you and she have priority since you are SMS personnel, I can use both of you micronized, which frees up two timeslots each way for zentran that need them." He held up his hands as Nene looked to protest. "Nene. I know Klan is your friend. I know that she needs to grieve properly. But right now she's running on adrenaline and willpower and sheer stubbornness, and when she breaks, it will take time to put her back together, time that I don't have and can't afford right now. There are times when being in charge isn't much fun, and this is one of those times. Don't think that I'm not concerned. I am, deeply. I should order you to leave her alone on this matter, but I won't, because I'm not sure the order would be legal, and I'd feel like a shit giving it. Just be careful, and don't break one of my best pilots, alright?"

Nene looked torn, then nodded. "I understand, sir."

"In the mean time, I can try and keep you closer to her, to keep an eye on her, if you'd like. I'm in need of a backup pilot for the Koenig Monster, would you be interested?"

Nene nodded, and the two began outlining the schedule for her training. And by the time she departed, Ozma only felt like half an asshole for using her concern for her friend to convince her to do what he wanted. He really had told the truth. There were times when being in charge wasn't much fun.

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Update author's notes:

Fixed a few things in the numbers for the squadrons that were bothering me. Yes, I'm still alive. Yes, I'm really, actually working on Chapter 11. Real life has an amazing number of ways of getting in the way, and I haven't had time for writing for a couple years. Working on this is a favor for some cosplay friends of mine.

Author's Notes:

The Chupaqueso is property of Howard Tayler and Schlock Mercenary (schlockmercenary dot com). It's pretty much what it says, cheese melted in a pan and sautéed until it becomes crispy, then filled with more cheese and wrapped like a burrito. Somewhat greasy, and can cause a heart attack almost instantly, but good. Considering some of the other things consumed by various characters in the strip, it's fairly benign. The characters, however, are not, and most are rather violent. It has some great one-liners, and often quotes the rules for successful pirates.

Natto is fermented soybeans. Smells and looks foul, at least in my opinion, and anything that smells like that will never be eaten by me. The addition of Tabasco, which is too spicy for many people brought up in a Japanese culture, should make it something that no one in their right mind would eat. Except for pregnant women, and those of my friends who have hot sauce on EVERYTHING.

The previous chapter was a lot of WAFF, but most of the ideas for this chapter sprung up only after I had most of the previous one written. The flow seems to work for me so far, so I left it.

I'm on an odd schedule, and most of this was written on Sunday. Don't expect updates until Friday or Saturday, most weeks, but I can sometimes crank two chapters in a weekend. If only my original work flowed so well.