Neqel Amherst heard the thundering of three teenagers descending a flight of stairs from all the way outside on the porch. It brought a sigh of resignation from her lungs before they even opened the door.

"MOM!"

At once, she was surrounded by the eager embrace of her children. Nathan was sixteen now, Joy fourteen and Eliot twelve. And yet their eyes were alight at the sight of her, their delight evident in their open expressions. Such emotion.

The Zentraedi weren't like this. From a race of warriors grown and indoctrinated in tanks, Neqel had never had a childhood. Never had this range of emotion, would never have so openly displayed it. She still couldn't. Not like a Micronian could, anyway. But then, her children were Richard's children too and he was Micronian. Human. Four years now since he perished fighting valiantly against cancer. All she had left were her wedding ring, and memories, and these three most precious creatures pressing in on her from all sides.

"Enough of that," Neqel said to her children, though she said it with a gentle smile. She'd learned to smile over the last seventeen years of living among the Micronians, ever since the Micronians defeated her race in the Robotech War. Smiling made the humans more...comfortable. Comfort was just as foreign as emotion to the Zentraedi race. But comfortable humans were less dangerous humans and the Micronian race had amply demonstrated their fighting ability.

She didn't smile to make her children comfortable, though.

"Nathan, it's Halloween, where's your costume?" she asked.

"I'm going to a party with my, uh, with Kimberly. She's making my costume. I mean, she made it, she's bringing it over when she picks me up for the party."

Nathan's face showed the telltale signs of exertion and adrenaline. Had he just come from battle? No, he had the look of a warrior about to begin a fight. Which meant...

"Very well. Do you plan to initiate courtship rituals with Kimberly?"

"What? No!" Nathan's cheeks heated further. "I-"

"You aren't old enough or ready enough for marriage," Neqel continued. "But no warrior wins a fight without training. Train with her if you wish, so long as you are cautious. Even in training, accidents can happen."

Nathan just rolled his eyes, a telltale sign that she was being 'ridiculous'. But then he peeled off to head back in the house while Joy and Eliot each took one of her hands, tugging her in.

The interior of her in-laws residence was well appointed, of finer quality by Micronian standards than the house she'd shared with their son Richard. An entryway led to a small central room with a flight of stairs on the right heading upwards. The kitchen lay ahead and the living room to the left. Naturally, Henry Amherst stood in the living room, looking expectant. He had a small round glass filled with a brown colored alcohol in one hand. The other hand stayed in his pocket.

He did not hug her.

"Joy and Eliot, why don't you say goodbye to your grandmother before we go?"

The prospect of imminent trick-or-treating was enough to peel her other two offspring away as well. They thundered through the doorway into the kitchen. Neqel smiled again to see them go. Then she turned to face Henry Amherst squarely.

"Sir."

"So nice to see you, Kelly," her father-in-law said with an easy, jovial tone in his voice. His expression was equally easy and jovial, except it didn't reach his eyes. For many years, she hadn't understood the difference. Neqel recognized the chill now, though.

"And you," she returned.

"Tactical Corp Recon Patrol seems to agree with you."

Neqel narrowed her eyes at the observation. Henry had no love for the Army of the Southern Cross. Another issue to divide them, then? And she'd hoped they'd made progress last Christmas.

"Yes, sir," she replied. "It's the most skilled labor I can do, to provide for my family."

"We're taking good care of Richard's kids, Kelly," Henry said, narrowing his own eyes in return. This nonverbal dueling had gone on for years between them and she was no stranger to his expressions or how he maneuvered in a conversation. "They have their own rooms, food and clothing, everything they need."

Neqel wanted to kill this man for his presumption. Who was he to say what their needs were? She might be as minaturized as a Micronian now but she was Zentraedi. Her children were half-Zentraedi. He had no understanding of that. Had no interest in understanding that.

He also wasn't held to a promise.

"Promise me you won't fight my parents."

"...Why would I?"

"They're going to have a hard time, losing their only child. They may say things that are cruel and unkind. I need you to forgive them."

Forgiveness. Another concept as foreign to the Zentraedi as love. As transformative as love, with all of love's compelling power and more precious for its rarity. The Robotech War had gone on for three years, ending eighteen years ago, and many Micronains had lost family in the conflict. Not the Amhersts, though. Their son did something worse than die at the hands of the Zentraedi. He'd taken a Zentraedi's hand in marriage. Richard had asked her to forgive his parents, a Micronian sentiment, when these Micronians hadn't been able to experience such sentiment themselves despite eighteen years of exposure to her.

But she'd given her word she would honor Richard's last wish.

"Someday," Neqel said at last, speaking slowly as she carefully chose her words. "Nathan, Joy and Eliot will be adults. If they attend college, they will need their tuition paid for. They may want somewhere to stay if and when they visit. If and when they marry and have families of their own who want to visit."

"They have everything they need," Henry Amherst repeated, his voice sharper despite the calming drink in his hand. "Here. We'll give them wonderful lives, Kelly. You don't need to take time away from your military duties like this."

"Even soldiers are allowed leave," Neqel said. "Even the Army of the Southern Cross permits its enlisted their families. They are mine. As are you."

Henry straightened a little at that last remark, plainly taken aback. Had she not said so before? Surely she had...

"Richard is your son," she continued, despite the reflexive grimace that came over the older Micronian whenever her husband came up in conversation. "Everything he came from, sir came from you and your wife. I loved Richard. Even eighteen years after the survivors of my people settled among yours, very few have come to love anyone the way I loved Richard. I see him when I look at our children. And I see him now, sir, when I look at you."

"...Yes, well I-" Henry squirmed in place, fidgeting with his discomfort.

"The courts awarded you custody of our children after Richard's death. I never contested that result." Because no Micronian court would ever give sole custody of children to a Zentraedi. Instead, Neqel said, "Because I knew you loved them too. Because half of everything your son was came from you, and I loved all of Richard. I won't deny that I wish I could have continued raising Nathan, Joy and Eliot. But I know they have a good life here."

At that, the kitchen door swung open, heralding the triumphant advance of Joy and Eliot. Her daughter was dressed as Elsa from a Micronian movie called 'Frozen'. Her youngest son wore a costume with unnecessary pockets, belts and dyed in at least two more colors than it needed. Probably a superhero costume then. Both children held pumpkin buckets in their hands, for carrying off the loot of their conquest. Both looked back and forth between their mother and grandfather, as they each sized up the room.

"Are you coming too, Grandpa?" Joy asked, an innocent question, though her tone of voice suggested she'd picked up on the tension.

Automatically, Henry Amherst glanced at her. "You are welcome, sir," Neqel invited. If her voice was a bit cool and dispassionate, that was her natural state. He should know her well enough by now to know that. She hoped.

"Thank you," he answered after a long look, a warrior taking the measure of their foe. Perceptively he softened. "But you have little enough time with your children. No, I'll stay here and hand out candy to trick-or-treaters. You'll be here through the weekend?"

"I will," she said.

"We'll have lots of time to catch up then."

"I would like that." There, she'd even softened her words as well. Emotions were complicated enough. Life among Micronians had taught her an additional level of complexity, though. That emotion, even feigned emotion, could create emotion in others.

Henry was a critical male, impossible to please. Showing softness to him might elicit softness from him, though. She didn't feel soft whatsoever. But he was family, and would be for as long as he lived. Time and past time to end a conflict neither side could win or retreat from.

Neqel followed Joy and Eliot down the porch stairs to the sidewalk. The elder Amhersts lived in a rather palatial neighborhood, one of the old-fashioned kind that remained mostly single-family units with ample lawn. Passing from door to door would require a great deal of walking, which she thought was good for discouraging excessive candy accumulation while burning off some of the calories acquired from sugar.

"Mom, why don't we live with you?"

Joy's unexpected question caught the Zentraedi woman by surprise. Equally surprising was the sharp pain in her heart, so sudden she wondered if she had a valve defect. Neqel turned her head and looked intently at her only daughter, fourteen and showing a presence of mind new to her mother's experience. So many ways to answer the question. Some more satisfying than others. Neqel deliberated a moment more before choosing the least appealing option possible.

"Since your father died, I've had to find work, Joy. The only work I'm qualified to do, that would hire me, was the Army of the Southern Cross. It's useful work, good work, and it's work I'm very good at. But it's not the ideal environment for the three of you."

"Why not?"

"I rarely have notice of an assignment. My assignments can take days, weeks or even months. That would put you, my children, in the hands of base childcare and require an off-hours parental replacement while I'm on mission. I've had to move bases three times in the last two years. Imagine having to change your schools that often."

Neqel sighed, reached out and cupped her child's now-tear streaked face. "You are my Joy," she said fiercely, her voice thick with feelings Neqel refused to engage with. "I want the best life possible for you. Your grandparents love you and can provide a stable home life for the three of you to grow up in."

A flock of trick-or-treaters passed by and the three of them stepped to the side to make room. Neqel barely noticed their costumes, for all her attention funneled down upon the two costumed children she'd once carried. Zentraedi were bred and born in clone tanks. Not her children. They were more Micronian than Zentraedi but no less precious for it.

"Couldn't we all get a house together?" Eliot asked, the twelve year old's voice revealing his anxiety with its quiver. "Why can't they live with us? Or you live with us, when you're not working?"

"I would like that," Neqel answered. "Perhaps that's something I can discuss with your grandfather this week while I'm leave. Now, no more tears. This is Halloween. Your objective is to secure your rations of sugar. Your obstacles include large lots to increase transit time and the prospect that target houses may exhaust their ammunition before we can resupply. Fail and you will have to wait a year for this chance to come again. Will you fail?"

"No, Mom!" the two said in unison, and both promptly picked up their step.

Neqel let them drift a little ahead, to better watch them and marvel at their maturation. She'd missed much these past several years. Too much for her, no matter what she'd promised Richard on the day of his death. Eliot's idea was good. And Henry showed a little willingness to talk.

A Zentraedi's home was the battlefield. But for this Zentraedi, her real home was...an objective still unacquired. And Neqel didn't know how to quit before completing her objectives.