HOLOCAUST

"Officer on the deck."

"As you were." Ranma grinned. Every person save one in the briefing compartment was an officer. But he was the Old Man. That made all the difference.

Old man. At twenty years old chronologically, twenty-two subjectively, and "Man" being a matter of timing, the description was at best tenuous.

He glanced around the faces of his newest command. To his immediate left was Akane, now a Captain and fully confirmed as CO of Blue, and her second, Lieutenant Makharov. Past Akane was CO of Green, Captain Peter Lee Jackson, and his current XO, Alice Phillips. Ranma had flown with Jackson as part of Skull, back on Macross Island. Of the Skull's three Flight Leaders from those early days, Jackson was the only one left alive; Roy and Mark had been shot down by Miriya Parino.

Furthest from Ranma on the left was the CO of Firefly, Major Kosuji. As a Fallen Angel - one of only five, according to Hunter, and four of them were in this room - she was a perfect choice to head the all-female cadre. She had no XO in tow; her command did not require such.

Across from Kosuji, Captain Robert Taggart sat, a lit cigar clamped in his mouth in defiance of all regulations. Taggart had been given Sepia shortly after Soun Tendo had been handed the Daedalus air group. Ranma knew nothing about the man except for what was in his dossier, which described a competent if uninspiring officer. He had no official XO at the moment, the unfortunate Lt. Cook having smacked into a meteor during a routine patrol; one of his sergeants, Lawrence Todd, was sitting in as XO.

On Ranma's immediate right was Amy Clark, the fourth of the Fallen Angels present. No longer fallen, Amy now headed up the revived Angel Squadron, with a promotion to Captain and a fistful of chicken guts. Ranma's ribbons had been considerably sparser when he'd been handed the Angels; among Clark's decorations were Courage Under Fire, the Medal of Valour (Gold) and the Ace of Aces ribbon. With her was Lieutenant Holly Logan, Angel's XO.

And sandwiched between Clark and Taggart was a young 2nd Lieutenant by the name of Stuart Evans. Evans' dossier was very light; he'd come up in Diamondback, and been transferred to head up the new Vermilion Squadron. As the most junior of Ranma's officers, he would end up taking all the "George" jobs that the Battalion needed doing. Evans also had no XO with him.

Ranma crossed over to the credenza, and poured himself a cup of coffee. Rather than take his seat at the table, he leaned against the credenza.

"Evans. You got an XO?"

The Lieutenant hopped to his feet. "Beg pardon, sir. My Squadron is not yet fully assembled; we only have one Flight."

"Okay, fair enough." He sipped the coffee. "How soon will you be operational?"

"Mad Hatters is graduating next week, and I've been assured by the Detailer that six of them are coming here. I've also requested that Major Kosuji transfer a Firefly Flight to my command, when they graduate."

Ranma glanced over to Kosuji. "Minato?"

"As good as done. The Detailer just wants the Colonel to put the final approval on it."

"I'll talk to him." Ranma sighed. "Captain Taggart?"

"Aye, Major."

"I note that you have Sergeant Todd here as your XO."

Taggart nodded. "Aye. The paperwork will be on your desk by the end of this brief."

"Good enough.

"For those of you not in the know, we have an entire Zentraedi fleet bearing down on Earth. We've got eight days before they reach us, and turn Earth into a cinder. If you doubt this, consider: They have eight hundred task groups the size of Breetai's.

"Captain Gloval wanted to intercept them, but he's been overruled. We're gonna have to fight them in orbit around the Earth."

He waited out the babble of overlapping voices, then continued. "Luckily, Earth ain't been idle in the time we were gone. They've built three more factories, and produced a hell of a lot of Valkyries. We've been fully reinforced with jets, mostly J- and S-Types. For the first time, this ship has a full complement. When Vermilion is fully up to strength, we'll have a hundred and eight effectives, and another thirty-six in the pool. A total of just over a thousand Valkyries. When we left Earth, we had nine hundred and sixty Valks, and were down to only a hundred and seventy or so by the time we got back."

"Sir?"

"Yes, Logan?"

"Even a thousand Valkyries isn't enough to stop the fleet. Right?"

"That is correct." Ranma sighed. "We're gonna have the Quadranos and Botorus fighting with us as well. Their idea of a Battalion is about four hundred mecha, and they have a total of one hundred and thirty Battalions. Fifty thousand or so mecha, about half of them Amazon Power Armour. Plus about a hundred thousand warships of various sorts."

"More warships than mecha?"

"Many of their warships are cruisers, which apparently do not carry mecha complements. Their destroyers usually only have a few.

"The brass back dirtside figure they can whittle down the size of Dolza's fleet using ground fire. But we're still gonna be massively outnumbered."

"Well, that's just fucking stupid."

Ranma blinked. "Sorry, Captain?"

Taggart pulled his cigar out of his mouth. "Problem with ground fire is it's stationary. Once the bad guys figure out where the guns are, they simply blow them away. A planet can't dodge."

Ranma nodded. "That was also my assessment, though I would have put it less...colourfully."

Chuckles ran around the room. Taggart grinned.

"Luckily," Ranma continued, "we have another ace up our sleeve."

"I cannot allow this to happen!"

Gloval's teeth were clamped down on the stem of his pipe hard enough to make the plastic creak ominously. "Mr. Lin, I have been more than patient with you. I have allowed you to sow dissent among the civilian population of this ship. I have even overlooked your altercations with the men under my command. But you are quite far out of line. The middle of my bridge is not the place to discuss this."

Lin Kyle seemed to be ignorant of the growing fury on the Captain's face, or the looks of disgust on the faces of the five women who shared the bridge with the Captain. "You are trying to turn Minmei to destructive ends! She's a singer, not a weapon!"

"At the moment, she's both. And we need her." Gloval's hand swept towards the viewscreen. "Four million warships! More than a third of them larger than the Macross. All of them bearing down on Earth!"

"Military propaganda," sneered Kyle. "Everyone aboard knows that you exaggerated the size of that fleet."

Minmei laid a hand on her cousin's arm. "Kyle, it's all right. I want to help."

"It is not at all right." Kyle shook his arm free. "I will not let you get involved with this. Do you really want to end up a pawn to the military?"

"They're gonna kill everyone on Earth!" Minmei's voice came up in pitch. "Mom and Dad are still in Yokohama, and there's a spaceport there. You know it'll get hit!"

"Did you even listen to what your Soldier Boy said? You do this, and you'll be helping to kill your own people!"

There was a stunned silence.

Lisa Hayes cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. Maybe I didn't quite hear that?"

Minmei looked down at her clasped hands. "My father's mother was an Amazon. Ranma told me that they're the same people as the Zentraedi. So I'm..."

"Exedore was right." Lisa shook her head in wonder. "You are the only one who can do this."

"It's not right!" For want of a table, Kyle smashed a fist down on the back of the Captain's chair. "The military has been ordering the civilian population around ever since this so-called 'crisis', and now--"

"Why am I even arguing with you?" Gloval turned to his Communications Officer. "Lieutenant Grant. Please call Chief Briggs to the bridge. Tell him to bring his sidearm."

"Already done, sir."

Gloval turned to the irate Kyle. "You have had your say. It means little to me. A security officer will be here momentarily to escort you to your designated shelter." He took a step closer, towering over the young rabble-rouser. "I know of your martial arts training. I assure you, Chief Briggs is more than a match for you."

Kyle smirked, and cracked his knuckles. "Good enough to--"

The howl of a stunner cut him off, and Kyle's expression turned from smirk to shock. He crumpled bonelessly to the ground. Behind him, Chief Briggs holstered his stun pistol. "Brig, sir?"

"It would take a week to clear out the stench." Gloval turned back to his tactical display. "The nearest shelter should be sufficient."

The combined might of Sixth Combat Air Battalion - thirteen Flights, seventy-eight mecha - closed up in formation. Ranma checked his Tactical; Skull was off to port about five thousand kilometers, the nearest of First Battalion's Squadrons. To starboard, about the same distance, was Apollo Squadron, from Colonel Tendo's Third Battalion. "Six-six. Squadrons, report in."

There was a pause, as the various Squadron COs consulted their Flights. Then, "Blue Squadron, ready."

"Vermilion, standing by."

"Green Squadron, check."

"Sepia, ready to rumble."

"Angel Squadron, standing by."

The cross-feeds popped up in Tactical, and Ranma nodded; except for the understrength Vermilion, everything looked good. He cross-referenced all listed failures against his master list - no surprises - and clicked to the Macross Tactical Frequency.

"Sixth Battalion, Macross. Report all Squadrons ready."

"Macross, Sixth. Good hunting."

Ranma tapped the Tac computer again, tied into the Divisional Tac Net. All three of the Macross' Combat Air Wings - a total of six hundred thirty-six Valkyries and Rapiers - were coming up green. It could have been more. For this fight, Ranma would prefer to have the cadre Squadrons up, as well.

After all, if we lose, we got nothin' to come back to, anyway.

"Captain, Lagrange Two reports radar contact with incoming hostiles." Claudia tapped a console control, brought up the waystation's Tactical plot. "They are cross-linking tactical data."

Gloval scowled at the screen. "Ten thousand warships?"

"L2 reports all fighters away, and they are launching anti-ship reaction missiles in full automatic."

The Tactical Plot showed more than a minute to impact. Gloval turned to Lisa and Minmei.

"Ladies, I am afraid that you are away from your posts. Action stations, please."

Lisa saluted. "Aye, sir." She turned to Minmei. "The Star Bowl."

Gloval turned back to the Tactical plot. "Only ten thousand. Where are the rest?"

"Tactical plot from Second Botoru." A second screen sprang to life. "The bulk of the Dolza Fleet is clearing the far side of the moon."

Deep within a command bunker in Alaska, Admiral Robert Hayes eyed the Tactical.

"How long to full weapon charge?"

"Three more minutes, sir."

"Is Macross remaining outside our cone of fire?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He tapped a control, frowned at the change in data. "At most, sixty percent of their fleet will be within arc for our first shot." He pulled a stylus from his jacket pocket, dragged it across the screen. "Make your firing pattern so, and initiate immediate switch to bank two for the follow-up. Use the emergency coolant; I want the second salvo up as soon as humanly possible."

Space filled with the brilliant glare of nuclear warheads, and in an instant, five thousand warships ceased to exist. A whoop of victory went through the bridge, but Gloval merely waited.

The Zentraedi's return salvo was deadly, accurate, and merciless.

Claudia's voice was broken as she reported, "Lagrange Two destroyed, sir."

"Understood." Gloval stood. "All compartments, confirm readiness for cruise operation."

"Subluminal drives report ready."

"Barrier field reports fully charged, and in pin-point mode."

"Main gun reports fully charged, but not yet available."

"Secondary batteries report fully charged, manned and ready."

"Cavalry Squadrons massed at Daedalus, and report readiness."

"Thank you. Kim, plot an intercept course to the main fleet."

"Macross reports readiness to maneuver, Admiral."

Hayes nodded. "Let me know if they leave station."

"Admiral! The target fleet is changing course!"

"Damn." The Admiral scowled. "Are they moving out of our firing cone?"

"Yes, sir."

"Damn, damn, damn...Targeting, start your plot."

"Aye, sir."

Hayes pulled a cigar out of his breast pocket, and stuck it between his teeth.

"Sir, I have a firing solution."

Hayes grinned. "You may fire at your discretion."

A brilliant blast of energy leaped from the planet, and stabbed through the enemy fleet.

Gloval stared through the transparent aluminum. "Solkyn syn..."

"Got that right, sir. Looks like it works after all." Claudia shook her head.

The Tactical plot changed rapidly, as ship after ship was wiped from the skies by the massive tongue of blue flame. Five seconds of continuous power cut like a knife through the fleet. When the beam subsided, many secondary explosions, caused by the detonations of the larger ships, continued to ripple through the enemy forces.

"I'd say that shot cost them almost a million ships, sir." Claudia frowned, and rotated her plot. "They're scattering, though; if that gun has a second chamber, it's gonna have a hard time doing it again."

"Did they nail the flagship?"

"No, sir; it was out of arc. However, they killed seventeen command cruisers, and that's gonna leave many of their forces out of the command loop."

Gloval turned. "Sammy, download your plot from Kim and engage subluminal drive. Claudia, inform Alaska Base of our intent to engage."

"Sir, our orders--"

"The man who gave us those orders is about to die. He can court-martial me later." Gloval sat back down in his command chair, and sighed.

Hayes stared at the target plot.

"There's still a hell of a lot of them, sir."

"I see that, Colonel." He turned. "Captain, report."

"Emergency cooling in progress, sir, but I'm showing signs of damage to the barrel. I can give you one more shot, but cannot guarantee a third."

"Understood." He closed his eyes.

I'm sorry, Lisa...you were right.

Five hundred thousand ships, a full combat detachment, arrowed in on an attack vector. The remaining vessels in the Dolza Fleet was moving into an encirclement pattern, surrounding the globe.

"We're gonna have hostiles in range in ten minutes, Captain."

"Understood. What's our velocity?"

"Sixteen million meters per second."

"Begin modular transformation."

On the Tactical Plot, the five hundred thousand warships began emptying their missile tubes.

The deck heaved under Chief Brigg's feet, and he nearly dropped his load. He set the unconscious Kyle down, and braced himself.

Kyle's eyes snapped open, and he whirled through a foot sweep, knocking Briggs to the deck. He rolled to his feet, and with a quick snap-punch, knocked the Chief unconscious.

"Incoming vampires! The count is way off the limits, sir!"

"Understood. Guns?"

"Second battery online in ten seconds, sir. First is recharging now."

"It's not going to matter. Maximum dispersal, try to get as many of those missiles as you can. If you get the attacking ships as well, good." Hayes' hand covered the all-call button. "Fire."

A second blast rose from the planet, this time in a wider cone. Most of the incoming missiles were destroyed, and the bulk of the lighter ships had their hulls stripped away like banana skins. But the larger ships sailed through the plasma storm, and began firing guns.

Hayes depressed the all-call button. "Abandon the base. Get as far away as you can, as fast as you can. All hands, abandon base."

The control crew abandoned their stations and made for the exit. The Gunnery Captain grabbed the Admiral's arm.

"Sir, you have to--"

"No." Hayes shook his head. "I've failed my mission. If I'd listened to my betters, this might have turned out differently." He pulled the Captain's hand away from his arm. "Get out of here. That's an order."

The Captain paused. "Sir, as you have given the order to abandon this base, you are no longer its commander."

"I still outrank you."

"As I have not abandoned my post, I would now be the superior officer of this installation."

"Dammit, Frank, you're splitting hairs."

"Admiral, don't make me draw my sidearm."

Hayes stared at the Captain. "You'd..."

"Aye, sir." He pulled the Admiral to his feet. "Let's get to a jet, sir."

The Star Bowl's holographic video suite had been slaved to a tactical display; it now showed the progress of the battle. Lisa watched in horror as the Zentraedi fleet opened up with beam cannon. Over the entire surface of the planet, cities were smashed from orbit by the massed firepower of three million warships.

"No..." Minmei's gasp was one of pure horror. "My family is in Yokohama!"

"Minmei--"

"You don't understand! My mother and father are dead!"

"I do understand." Lisa pointed out the glowing ember that had been Elmendorf. "My father was there. He just gave his life to defend this planet!"

"Your father..."

"He was in command of that facility. The Grand Cannon." Lisa looked down. "He did what he could to protect Earth. Now we have to do what we can."

She turned to Minmei. "Get ready. Your audience is waiting."

Her eyes were wet with tears that she would not allow to fall.

Ranma's horror was no less than Minmei's.

"Those bastards!" He shifted to female form, and tapped into his ship's Reflex furnaces. "Sixth, stand by for space fold."

The Tac Freak chirped, and Lieutenant Grant appeared on his left-hand screen.

"Major Saotome, begin Schedule Trap-Door."

"Aye, aye, ma'am."

She closed her eyes, and wished her entire Battalion into the midst of the oncoming fleet.

"My Lord! Incoming space folds!"

"How many?"

"Seventy or more! Defold in thirty centipulses!"

"Seventy warships? That won't make much of a difference." Dolza leaned back. "The enemy is vastly outnumbered."

"Not warships, sir. Mecha!"

"...Mecha? They folded mecha?"

Throughout the Dolza fleet, the pinpoint flares of defolds marked the appearances of the seventy-eight mecha of the Sixth Battalion. Scattered around the globe, each had nearly forty thousand ships within reach of their missiles, and only six missiles each.

But their targets had been chosen with great care.

Amy Clark firewalled her Valkyrie's engines, and dove towards the massive battlecruiser. Its anti-ship guns were pumping salvo after salvo in her general direction, but those batteries were designed to engage much larger targets than her fighter. It was simplicity itself to avoid their fire.

She smirked. Great warriors, my ass.

Her computer bleeped as she reached breakaway range, and she thumbed the weapon release button. The ejectors kicked the GH-45 Jackal missile away from its pylon, and it screamed towards the ship. She yanked on the pole, flipping her bird end for end, and started burning away as fast as she could.

The Zentraedi point-defense guns opened up on the missile, but its computer brain could perceive incoming fire and dodge it faster than the sentient brains manning the guns could compensate. Not a single blast came close, and the weapon bored in relentlessly, a mindless robot with only one task in life: Get within one thousand meters.

Clark's computers went haywire as the missile's ten-kiloton warhead detonated, the massive electromagnetic pulse scrambling its hardened circuits, but not destroying them. The Zentraedi ship was not so lucky; lacking experience dealing with nuclear weapons, the Zentraedi shipbuilders had not hardened their components, nor installed the reflex armour needed to turn aside the massive burst of gamma radiation that peeled the hull away from its stays. The battlecruiser's powerplant lost containment, its auto-scram circuits as fried as every other piece of silicon aboard, and the fusion reaction burning inside the plant burst from its torus, filling the entire ship with burning plasma.

Amy glanced into her rear-view mirror as she sped away from the crippled, burning wreck.

Five missiles left.

"Enemy ConCom in disarray, sir. We've hit nearly eighty percent of their command ships."

"Radio and microwave frequencies jammed across the board. We are out of communication with the rest of the fleet."

"Modular transformation complete, and we are on secondary subluminal drive. Delta-V is six hundred meters per second squared."

"Excellent." Gloval grinned around the stem of his pipe. "Bring the main gun into firing position."

"Sir!" Grant turned from her station.

"Yes, Claudia?"

"Sixth Battalion is still among the enemy fleet! With radio communications jammed, we can't warn them!"

Gloval smashed his fist down on the console. "Dammit! Time to accelerate our plans.

"Contact the Star Bowl, and tell Commander Hayes to begin Schedule Minmei!"