A Robotech fanfiction by Kei Masaki (asalight@sdf.lonestar.org)
Robotech is the property of Harmony Gold. Its component series are the respective properties of Tatsunoko and Artmic Studios, among others. Believe me, if Robotech was my property, I wouldn't work Saturday mornings.
Note: this fanfiction series takes place approximately 12-13 years after the end of the Third Robotech War (AD 2057). While heavily influenced by the view of the Robotech universe as presented by the good people at the Robotech Reference Guide, many of the depictions of characters are derived from the Jack McKinney novels, or the various comic series presented by Eternity Comics, particularly Invid War and Aftermath (which, while I didn't always agree with the direction it took, I respected for breaking away from the concepts of the McKinney novels). Simple rule of thumb – if you recognize a character's name, chances are that he or she was created by yours truly.
Chapter 1: Powder keg on my left, open flame on my right…
Those who do not study history are doomed to repeat it.
- Twentieth-century adage (attributed to George Santayana)
(Begin holofootage - timestamp 2057/7/27:14:28:34)
(Running holofootage of the front steps of the LGA General Assembly building. Speaking is an auburn-haired reporter with a mustache. Dressed in neat if somewhat casual clothes, the reporter exudes an air not unlike a younger Edward R. Murrow. When he speaks, his is a calm voice that nonetheless carries serious overtones.)
REPORTER'S VOICE-OVER: Under the rules of the International Annexation Act of 2051, any former Robotech Empire system discovered is the proper claim of whichever world's ships reach it first. Unfortunately, no one appears to have considered the possibility of two worlds claiming a system simultaneously. That is exactly what happened three weeks ago, and the price paid for this oversight was paid in blood.
(Switchover to different holofootage. This reel appears to be gun-camera footage of Karbarran and Perytonian warships blowing the hell out of each other. Fighters, many of them older Veritech designs, are doing likewise. V.O. continues while reel plays.)
V.O.: Three weeks ago, warships from the Republic of Karbarra and the Peryton Defense League clashed in the Ci'va system, which was a major industrial center of the old Robotech Mercantile Empire. Even though the system has long been abandoned, and its main planet largely barren, there is a large possibility of intact or reparable facilities, equipment, and lost technologies. This was proven in 2052, when Terran vessels laid claim to the Frakhla system and found mostly-intact shipyard facilities.
Because of concerns over this incident, and because of noted tensions between Karbarra and Peryton in recent years, the RDF dispatched a major task force to Ci'va, with the approval of the rest of the LGA signatories.
(Switchover to different holofootage. This shot - a "live shot" - is of the steps behind the reporter. While the central section of the stairway is clear, a large number of people - mainly humans, but also other LGA races - are milling around on the fringes, held behind security lines. Many of them are holding up signs, few of them demonstrating support for the RDF presence in Ci'va. Camera pans back around, finally settling back on the speaking reporter.)
REPORTER: And so, today, Admiral Jack Baker, head of RDF forces in the Local Group, and a number of other senior RDF officers are reporting to the LGA General Assembly on the status of the Ci'va system. We are not reporting from the Assembly chambers, as this was a special closed session. As you can see behind me, the RDF's deployment to Ci'va has stirred up quite a reaction here in Tiresia. For many, this negative reception seems less due to the act itself, which is arguably a peacekeeping measure, than the fact that mere months ago, Admiral Jack Baker, commander of RDF forces in the Local Group, promised that the RDF would make no provocative moves whatsoever. If this unfortunate incident escalates into a full-scale conflict, these peacekeeping actions may cause either Karbarra or Peryton to regard the League of Worlds as - wait, wait!
(Live shot of the doors to the General Assembly building opening. Three RDF flag-rank officers, two wearing Navy dress blues and one wearing Army dress greens, stride out and down the stair. They are followed and surrounded by a number of obviously junior officers and flanked by soldiers in light armor and carrying rifle-mode Gallants. In the lead is Jack Baker, his hair worn shorter but still long by military standards, with aviator-style glasses. The second flag-ranker is another man, in his forties and obviously of Middle Eastern descent; he wears the Army green. The last flag-ranker is a petite, striking Asian woman, wearing Navy blues like Admiral Baker.)
V.O.: And here comes Admiral Baker and his staff - wait, more than his staff. With him is General Rafi ben Josef, the senior RDF Army commander in the Local Group, and Fleet Admiral Chie Matsura, commander of the RDF Navy. This kind of presence can only demonstrate the Defense Force's seriousness about Ci'va. Admiral Baker!
(Live shot of the reporter turning away from the camera to approach Baker. He is one of several reporters who do so, all being trailed by their camera operators. This reporter is the first to get into recordermike range.)
REPORTER #1: Admiral Baker, what is the current status of the RDF in Ci'va?
BAKER (in a neutral voice): No comment.
REPORTER #2: Admiral Baker, is it true that RDF ships exchanged fire with a Perytonian cruiser?
BAKER: Again, no comment.
REPORTER #3: Are you planning on moving more ships into the system?
BAKER (now starting to look slightly peeved): Again, no comment.
(Live shot of the soldiers starting to move between the officers and the media. A fourth reporter looks slightly lost, then a determined expression appears on his face and he presses in for a last question.)
REPORTER #4 (almost shouting): Admiral Baker! What can you tell us about Project VEST POCKET?
(Live shot of Baker hesitating in midstep, barely stopping at all, but just long enough to be captured on film. He recovers almost immediately and continues walking towards the waiting cars. An RDF officer in Air Force light-blue moves into the frame.)
OFFICER: Our PR department will be issuing a press release at 8 p.m. local standard time.
(Live shot of the officer moving out of the frame, being replaced by the reporter, now slightly more rumpled looking.)
REPORTER: Whatever the reason for Admiral Baker being tight-lipped, it seems clear that this situation will be resolved neither quickly nor simply. Reporting from the General Assembly building in Tiresia, for CINC, this is Rand Somerville.
(End holofootage - timestamp 2057/7/27:14:35:08)
Cosmic Information and News Channel regional headquarters (Tirol bureau), Burke Building
Tiresia, Tirol
27 July 2057, 1645 hours (local)
"'Project VEST POCKET'? What the hell were you thinking, Charlie?!"
Charlie Kimura gulped. His bureau chief was generally an easygoing sort, but when he was pissed, he had been known to unnerve thirty-year veteran reporters. For Kimura, who at twenty-five was the boy wonder for Cosmic Information and News Channel's Tirol bureau, it was like being at ground-zero of a small nuclear detonation.
Indeed, Rand Somerville was livid. He had taken his most promising young reporter out on assignment with him - while his duties as bureau chief were largely administrative, he tried to keep his reporting skills as honed as possible. Kimura had accompanied him on the condition that Rand himself would do the reporting, while he stood by and observed. Instead, he had charged in and asked a question that had NOT been cleared with his bureau chief - an action that might well have done damage to the bureau's cordial relationship to RDF-Local Group.
"Cool off, Rand," Oliver Fitzgerald replied icily. The bureau's chief reporter and Rand had never gotten along well; Fitzgerald had always resented Rand taking the position he felt should have been his, and Rand had never approved of Fitzgerald's taste for sensationalism and reporting that bordered on outright harassment. Mutual respect for the other's professional abilities was the only thing that had kept blood from being spilt in the office. "Charlie did the right thing. You saw Baker's little reaction there. That hit a nerve."
"Oh, yes, it hit a nerve," Rand agreed acidly. "Has it ever occurred to you that there might be a reason that certain things aren't made public knowledge?" He would never understand how someone who had grown up on Tirol could despise the RDF so much.
"Playing the Defense Force's apologist again, Rand?" Fitzgerald shot back in a matching tone. As he saw it, his job was the dig up the truth, by whatever means necessary, and regardless of the cost to others. This made him an excellent reporter, but one with a reputation for heartlessness. This same trait had caused one marriage to end in divorce, and was sending the second down that same path. "We're reporters here. We uncover the truth, not help cover it up. What interests me is Baker's reaction. What the hell could VEST POCKET be?"
"Probably contingency plans in case Ci'va spills over," Rand replied.
"Maybe it's invasion plans?" Kimura wondered aloud, somewhat relieved at no longer being the focus of attention. "Plans for landing troops on Karbarra and Peryton while this Ci'va thing has everyone distracted?"
Rand shook his head. "Possible, but unlikely. The Navy isn't strong enough to absorb the losses that it would take to take both worlds AND maintain a presence at Ci'va." He eyed Kimura warily. "All right, Charlie, get outta here. You're off the hook this time. Work on learning some discretion."
Kimura retreated gratefully. Fitzgerald began to move towards the door, but Rand's voice halted him. "Just a second, Ollie."
Fitzgerald turned around, his face wearing the calm expression Rand had come to recognize as his "you've won this round, but not the war" face. "Yes, Rand?"
"Charlie wouldn't have asked that question on his own. No one in the bureau below department-chief level is even supposed to have heard the phrase 'VEST POCKET'." Rand fixed his own impassive gaze on Fitzgerald. "You cleared him to ask?"
"Not just me, Rand. Jack cleared it personally." Fitzgerald's expression sharpened, taking on an edge of vicious satisfaction.
"....I see. Okay, Ollie, get on out of here." Rand forced himself to look away from the reporter, watching his terminal's monitor. After a long moment, he heard Fitzgerald's grunt and the sound of the door swishing open and shut.
Rand waited another moment before keying on his terminal's intercom function. "Rami?"
"Yes, Mr. Somerville?" his secretary's voice responded. Her English was slightly accented with the lilt common to women from Rilac.
"Could you please open me a direct line with the network headquarters, office of Jack Wolff?"
"Yes, sir." He heard several rapid sequences of typing, then Rami's voice again. "Mr. Somerville, you do realize that in New York, it's nearly closing-time for day operations?"
"I'm aware of that fact, Rami. Just put me through; he'll sit still for me."
"All right, sir.... audio only, or full AV?"
"Full AV, please, patch it to my terminal's display. Thank you, Rami." The intercom link closed, and Rand hurriedly closed his word-processor program.
A moment later, a man's face appeared on the large flatscreen. The face was strong-featured and handsome, accented by a salt-and-pepper beard and mustache, and hair the same color slicked back. "Rand, my boy!" he spoke in a strong Mid-North American accent. The pleasantness in the voice was sincere enough, but there was a subtle undertone of wariness. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I wish this was just a social call, Jack," Rand replied, courteously but firmly. Despite what he'd just learned, he was genuinely fond of Jack Wolff. The current president of CINC had started out as a war correspondent during the Second Robotech War, risking life and limb beside the 18th ATAC Squadron in a dozen major engagements. During the Third Robotech War, he had shuttled from resistance group to resistance group on the North American continent, acting as a self-appointed go-between and pirate radio broadcaster. His wide-band reports, called "Radio Free North America", had served the dual purpose of keeping up hopes throughout the loose network of North American resistance bands and keeping them updated with information. The stories of Jack Wolff and his broadcast set disappearing from the very clutches of Shock Troopers by mere inches were legion. After the war, Wolff had joined with the then-Tiresia-based CINC and shot up through the ranks, moving into the president's office by 2054. He was the last of the living legends in the news business, and Rand had been lucky enough to have him as a mentor. "I presume you saw this afternoon's broadcast."
"Ahhh, yes, that. Very bold of your young man Kimura, and it certainly seemed to hit home on Baker."
"Fitzgerald just told me something interesting, Jack. Why did you give him the go-ahead for telling Kimura about VEST POCKET?"
"Ahh, that...." At least Wolff had the good grace to look abashed. "I'm sorry about that, Jack. I know I should have told you first, but we both know how you would have reacted."
"There's a reason for that, Jack," Rand insisted. "What if this VEST POCKET is something that needs to stay secret?"
"I admit that we might have been a touch hasty, but Rand, there have been so many secrets the RDF has had over the past 50 years that it's hard to tell which are important and which aren't! We can never trust the RDF completely, Rand, you know that!"
"Ahh, but are we always the best judges of when we can trust them and when we can't?" Rand countered, feeling his face start to redden. "Dammit, you sent that authorization through Fitzgerald, and you KNOW how he feels about both me and the RDF! The phrase 'conflict of interests' springs to mind!" In Rand's opinion, Fitzgerald would have killed his wife and eaten the corpse, if that would have given him the bureau chiefship.
"What would you have had me do, my boy? Play dumb?"
"I'd have waited until we knew exactly what the score was before tipping our hand. Now probably half our contacts at Dixon or Maldara will refuse to return our calls, to say nothing of Luna or Reflex Point! That one move may have just put CINC at number-two on the Defense Force's shit list, and all because - " Rand bit his lip. There was more he wanted to say, but now wasn't the time.
"You may be right, but what's done is done." Wolff's voice was still cordial, but had a sense of finality to it. "Is that all, Rand?"
Rand sighed. "Yes, Jack, that's all. Other than that incident, things are all right on Tiresia's end, and I'll make sure they stay that way."
"I never doubted it. Good night, Rand...." Wolff's face disappeared from the monitor. Rand stared at it for a long moment, then pulled open one his desk drawers.
Inside was a half-full bottle of single-malt Scotch and a short tumbler.
He started to reach for the bottle when his office door slid open. He glanced up in time to see an attractive young woman enter. She was dressed in typical Tiresia business fashion and with long, rust-red hair pulled back into a loose high ponytail, and aqua eyes. Right now, now, her eyes held an odd mix of amusement and chagrin. "Drinking before you've even clocked off, dear?" she asked lightly.
"Just one, Mint," Rand answered. He set the bottle on the desk and fished out two tumblers. "Care to join me?"
"I think so," Annie Somerville agreed, watching him pour a double into each glass. "I saw today's broadcast. I think I see why you're drinking." Her expression softened. "One of those days?"
Rand recapped the bottle and set it down, replacing it with the two tumblers. He handed one to his companion and took a slow sip off the other one. "A rookie and a jerk greasing for my job spilled the beans on the biggest secret code-word in the RDF inventory, and my boss gave them the green light. Yeah, you could say it was one of those days...."
RDF Headquarters, Local GroupFort Ben Dixon, Rilac, Tirol
1715 hours (local)
"Okay, how are we gonna handle this?" Jack Baker looked longingly at the bottle of painkillers sitting on his desk. If he didn't have to be in front of the holovision cameras in less than an hour, that bottle might be half empty by now.
"Tell the truth," Chie Matsura replied dryly. "Tell them that VEST POCKET is a set of contingency plans for the event in which two or more of our allies go to war. It's not a lie."
"That still may not go over well," Annalise Bernard warned. A brigadier in the RDF Air Force, she was chief P.R. officer for the Local Group Regional Command. "The minute you say 'contingency plans', reactionaries will think either 'invasion plans' or 'Oh my god, the damned aliens are going to invade US!'"
"And that's just in the government," Rafi ben Josef muttered sarcastically.
A low chuckle rippled around Jack's office. Annalise was the first to recover. "General ben Josef makes a good point, though. Consider the reaction of the Terran and Tirolian governments to this previously unknown project. No military in this century has had an especially good track record when it comes to secret or controversial projects. 'GIBRALTAR' comes to mind," she said pointedly, referring to the code-name for the Neutron-S missile project. "In the future, Admiral, I think it would be better if responses to the press were handled through me."
"Are you worried about the press not giving me any mercy?" Jack asked dryly.
Annalise's cheeks colored slightly. "Frankly, sir, yes. The reporter who asked you about VEST POCKET was from CINC, and they're the news organization with the strongest reputation for discretion and non-sensationalism!" She shook her head. "I know the CINC bureau chief socially, and it's frankly surprising that he would clear something like that."
"I know Rand Somerville too, Brigadier, and I don't believe he did." This response came from the only officer not bodily present at the impromptu command-staff meeting, attending instead via realtime hyper-radio link. When deploying forces to Ci'va, Jack Baker had chosen one of the best young fast-trackers in the Navy for the task force command, and the recently-frocked Rear Admiral Scott Bernard was doing well. "The man has too much discretion for that."
Annalise's expression clouded. "Then someone went over his head?" Her brow furrowed in thought for a moment, and then a look of understanding appeared on her face. "Ahh, yes, I see. I'd forgotten about CINC's president."
"What about him?" Angelo Dante asked. The Hovertanker-turned-Marine general had been almost completely immersed in the reconstruction of the RDF's Marine Corps, and thus had paid little more attention to the media than absolutely necessary.
"His name is Jack Wolff," Scott replied grimly. "Perhaps you've heard of his father?"
The room was silent for a long moment. Scott's voice broke the silence. "I met him once, when he was covering the Provisional Government conventions back in '47. He's talented at what he does, but he has.... a severe disliking for the RDF. He holds both it and the REF responsible for his parents dying, and for taking his father away for most of his life."
"So all this happened because a jumped-up newsie has a hate-on for the Defense Force," Angelo noted.
"That's about the size of it, it seems," Chie confirmed. "I've dealt with Wolff before, too. He'd not shed a tear if RDF blood were spilt over Ci'va. Worse, he has the ear of a lot of people in Earth's government."
"D'ya have names?" Jack inquired, scribbling on a notepad. None of this would help much in the press conference, but in the long run, it might give him a better defense when dealing with the government.
"Senators Long, d'Amacourt, MacKenzie, and Nakamura - "
Jack sat upright in his chair. "All of them are on the Senate Committee for Defense Force Coordination and Deployment!"
"Exactly," Chie remarked. "Doesn't that explain their eagerness to budget-cut in the last two years?"
"But - "
"That's not all," the fleet admiral continued. "Angelo, Jack, you two are rather lucky, being based on Tirol where the politicos have a better grasp of astropolitical realities. On Earth, we're lucky Carpenter wasn't impeached when he merely brought up the idea of increased military spending. Wolff is making a name for himself, targeting anyone in the government whose political agenda doesn't mesh with his. It's amazing that people like Satori and Belmont have held onto their committee positions. A lot of people on Earth think they can pretend that the rest of the universe doesn't exist."
"Too late for that," Scott interjected. "Whether the people on Earth like it or not, they're part of the interstellar community, and the longer they take to accept that, the more annoyed our allies will be."
"Did we want to think about shifting the VEST POCKET fleet away from Valivarre?" asked Vice Admiral Jeanne Deladrier, Jack's deputy commander for the Local Group's naval forces. "Parts of Madrea are designated as civvie yards. All it takes is a couple of enterprising reporters sneaking around to stumble on - surprise, surprise! Seven hundred RDF warships that no-one knew about!"
"I'd be inclined to agree, if not for today," Chie countered. "And we can simply divert traffic to the commercial docks on Folcaro. It's a lot easier to hide seven hundred warships than it is to hide seven hundred warships folding out of the most traffic-ridden system in the Local Group. Not to mention that it would take more personnel than we have in-system to even skeleton-crew all of those ships."
"Very true. Now, Scott, speaking of allies that are annoyed with us...." Jack quipped lightly.
"Right, right." Scott glanced away briefly, presumably at his own terminal. "All right, just as you expected, the Karbarrans moved another destroyer group into the system today. Looks like their standard configuration, three Kolsh-class and a Vohr-class light cruiser. That group took up station at Ci'va's L3 point, and brings their in-system strength up to twenty-eight warships. So far, no troopships, although their heavy cruisers can carry up to a light brigade apiece of armored cavalry. No landings yet."
"And the Perytonians?"
"Their numbers are static so far, holding at twenty-four warships. They've stepped up CAPs within 10,000 klicks of their cap ships, and we've been tracking a lot of hyper-radio traffic between their flagship and Peryton. They've also moved their frigates to a position on Ci'va's moon's dark side. SIGINT did a bit of discreet eavesdropping, and the communiqués seem to be just routine updates." Scott shrugged. "I'd feel a bit more secure if we had data on their current fleet codes, if they ARE using codes."
"I don't blame you, Scott," Jack replied. Against his better judgment, he felt a bit of hope. If everyone at Ci'va could just keep their damned heads screwed on straight....
"Are we still going ahead with SAFARI?" Angelo asked. He had good reason for his interest; if the reinforcement plan went forward, it would be his Marine divisions making up the bulk of the vanguard ground forces. Scott looked interested as well - full deployment would give him operational command of the largest military force assembled since Reflex Point or Slughouse, and he had been one of the loudest critics of how the former operation had been executed.
He thought over the plan he had presented in closed session earlier that day, both to the Local Group Advisory Council and to the Interstellar Defense Council. If brought into full play, nearly all of both Saturn and Jupiter Fleets, as well as most of the Air Force and Army units in the Local Group, would spacefold to Ci'va and blockade the system, with the tacit blessing of the LGA. Well, most of it - Peryton would raise holy hell, and Karbarra wouldn't be much happier. But the other signatories were eager for a (relatively) bloodless settlement, and the RDF was the only other military of sufficient strength to play peacekeeper. Left to their own devices, the forces in this system might well ignite another Robotech War. Four had been enough.
"Yeah, phase one of SAFARI is a go. Scott, we've already set to activating the rest of Saturn Fleet and moving it over to your position. They'll be carrying the 1st and 2nd Marine Divisions with them, and the materiel to establish a base on Ci'va. After this deployment, we'll shift Jupiter over to alert status and see how matters progress."
"Aye-aye, sir," Scott responded. "TF-Ci'va will stand-to." He snapped off a parade-ground salute, but the smirk tugging at his lips belied the "stern military officer" image.
"Enough, Scott, enough," Jack answered with a smirk of his own. "How are your people holding up over there?"
Scott bit his lower lip. "We could be better, but the arrival of reinforcements should boost morale. Everyone's worried about this escalating, but my people will do their jobs." The corner of his mouth quirked slightly upward. "Jack, please try and keep this from fucking up?"
"Roger that, Scott. I think that pretty much wraps things up for tonight." The two officers saluted each other, and Scott's image faded from the wallscreen, replaced by the encircled "fighting kite" crest of the RDF. Jack turned back to face the others. "I'll have the orders signed and transmitted before I leave tonight. Anything else before the press conference?"
"Nothing that can't wait till tomorrow," Jeanne answered as she stuffed folders back into her briefcase. "Just remember to treat VEST POCKET as emergency plans - something important, but not worth getting worked up over."
"Question is, will the reporters remember that?" Jack quipped, casting a last look at the painkillers as he stood up.
Riel's Place, Tiresia
1807 hours (local)
"VEST POCKET is the code-name for contingency plans in the event of open hostilities - to wit, declared war - between two or more LGA signatories," Jack Baker stated calmly. His voice was clear and resonant, and his gaze was firm and level. "For obvious reasons, the precise content of those plans will not be made public knowledge. I would like to state for the record, however, that these plans were created specifically as a defensive measure, not as the means of executing a war of conquest."
He almost sounds convincing, Oliver Fitzgerald thought wryly. His gaze drifted down from the bar's TV screen to the half-empty mug of Tracialle Lager in front of him. The beer was lukewarm by now, a fact he tried to ignore as he took a long drink.
"How long have these plans been in effect?" The first question came from Kelsie Taggart, a reporter from New Chicago who, as far as Oliver was concerned, was more looks than talent.
Baker answered immediately, as if he'd been expecting the question. "These plans have never been put into effect, although they are the outgrowth of strategic and tactical studies dating back to the end of the Sentinels War." He smiled wryly. "I have had opportunity to visit the military command centers of our allies, and I can assure you, they have similar contingency plans against any conflict with either Earth or Tirol. Next question, please...."
"Hey! Change the channel!" This came from a man at the far end of the bar. The bartender obeyed, and the live press conference was replaced by a soccer game - Nueva Madrid and Tiresia, apparently. If Oliver were a betting man, he'd have put hard credits down on the Terran team.
The pocket-phone in his jacket's inside pocket started vibrating. Oliver cursed under his breath as he pulled it out; it was probably Laura calling to chide him for not coming home after work. It had been a mistake to marry her; she was a good woman, but she couldn't understand that what she wanted from him - namely, to be his first priority - was out of the question. No, ferreting out the truth behind the lies - regardless of who was doing the lying, or why - was everything to him; even his wife was a distant second. The reckoning for this would come sooner or later, but Oliver would be happy to keep it at "later".
Sighing, he fished the phone out of his pocket, keying it on. "This is Fitzgerald."
Silence for a moment, then a masculine chuckle. "Good evening, Mr. Fitzgerald."
Oliver straightened up in his seat. Glancing around quickly, he responded in a controlled voice, "This had better be good. I told you not to call this number unless it was a matter of war breaking out."
"If you believe the RDF press missives coming out of Ci'va, it may be that, yes-no?" Another chuckle from the mysterious voice. "When was the last time you went to church, Mr. Fitzgerald? I'm told tonight's service will be especially meaningful. A seat near the front might be best." The phone abruptly went dead.
Oliver stared at the phone for a long moment before pocketing. He then signaled the bartender. "Check, please, and some anti-hangovers."
Saint Arlen of Tiresia Catholic Church, Tiresia
1915 hours (local)
It had been because of Laura's nagging that Oliver, an avowed agnostic, had gone to church in the first place. Yet, eventually it became his own choice to attend services every now and again. Religion, when one got down to it, was nothing more than the search for universal truth, and that was something that he could appreciate.
When the REF had helped rebuild Tiresia, they had also relocated the majority of their civilian and dependent population to Tirol's surface. Most of them had settled in one of the newly-built districts of Tiresia, an area that had eventually become known as Little Macross. By 2040, Little Macross had become one of the largest districts of Tiresia, and many of the planetary governmental offices had been located there. Also located there was the Saint Arlen of Tiresia Catholic Church, named for Father (Lieutenant Colonel) Arlen DeHavilland, the REF's senior Catholic chaplain and one of the leaders in the movement to help the Tirolians rebuild their world. One of the Vatican's first acts following the Third Robotech War was to canonize the chaplain, who had died in the bloody landings on Optera in 2037.
As Oliver entered the sanctuary, he noted that it was perhaps one-third full. 7:30 masses were not especially well-attended, especially on Friday nights. Declining a visit to the confessional, he strode about three-quarters of the way to the front, sitting down in one of the side pews. He picked up a missal from the little shelf in front of him, thumbing through it.
He felt, rather than saw, the man sitting down next to him. Out of the corner of his right eye, he regarded the other man. Brown hair and eyes to match, in a face that was pleasant but not really memorable. Dressed respectably but unremarkably, in the anonymous suit and tie of the stereotypical civil servant. Slight bulge under the jacket, not obvious but noticeable to one who knew how to look - probably plainclothes security or M.P. Oliver sat back, and waited for him to make his move.
It finally happened about near the end of the service, when the patrons were exchanging handshakes in gestures of peace. Oliver shook hands with the man, murmuring "Peace be with you" and hearing it spoken in return, and felt a weight in his hand that remained after he turned away. He pocketed the disk, his thoughts of what the contents might be blanking out the rest of the service.
Fitzgerald residence, New Portland district, Tiresia2147 hours (local)
The look Laura gave him when he entered would have stopped him, once upon a time. Tonight it just bounced off as he headed for his study, without so much as a by-your-leave. Once inside, he locked the door and switched on his computer's holodisk player, dropping the disc into the loading tray as the machine booted up.
The screen was blank for a moment, then went light blue. Emblazoned across it were the crests of the LGA and the RDF, and the legend "MOST SECRET - EYES ONLY - HOLOREC: IDC SPECIAL HEARING 27 JUL 2057 - UNOFFICIAL". It was the last word that caught Oliver's attention. If this wasn't an official recording, who knew what kind of confidential data might be on this disk?
The blue screen disappeared, to be replaced by Jack Baker, in his Navy dress uniform, standing before the holoprojector in the General Assembly Building's main briefing chamber. Off to the side were seated Matsura and ben Josef, wearing serious expressions. In contrast, Baker's was one of barely-restrained annoyance, as if he had better things to do than tell his civilian superiors what he was up to.
"Admiral Baker, Fleet Admiral Matsura, General ben Josef, thank you for your presence here today." The deep, resonant voice was that of Vincent Grant, retired general in the REF, currently Chief Minister of Defense for Tirol. An old colleague of Baker's - in fact, one of his first commanding officers. Grant was military through and through; he'd be softballing his fellow brass-wearers all through this. "We'll try not to keep you overlong today."
"I appreciate that, Minister," Baker said smoothly. Oliver found it interesting that Baker, rather than Matsura, was doing the talking. Granted, he held the overall command of the Local Group, but she outranked him, in both grade and as the chief-of-staff of their service branch. On the other hand, perhaps she was regarding him as a sacrificial lamb.
"Admiral Baker, we'd like you to begin with the events of 18 July." That voice belonged to Councilor Harry Penn, chairman of the Parliamentary Committee for Defense Force Oversight - effectively the Parliament member with the most control over the RDF's Local Group forces. He and Baker also had a history - they had barely gotten along when Baker and Karen Foley (nee Penn) had been.... involved.... and after their breakup, Penn's animosity towards the future admiral (then a Navy commander and CAG aboard the Yukikaze) had grown by leaps and bounds. According to reports, Baker preferred to answer said animosity by simply ignoring the councilor whenever possible.
This would be interesting.....
Baker straightened up almost invisibly, and he began to speak in the precise tone of a career officer. "On 18 July, a patrol flight of four Veritechs, attached to SVF-78 aboard the heavy cruiser Hood, came across the interdiction-patrol course of a Perytonian flight of fighters. Said Perytonian fighters were PVF-4s, their homegrown version of our old VF-4 Lightnings, and had penetrated past their declared area of operations - at that point, they were within 50,000 kilometers of Ci'va's outermost satellite. The flight leader, Lieutenant Ferris, hailed the oncoming fighters and informed them that they were in RDF-controlled space and asked them to turn about. The Perytonian flight leader declined. Lieutenant Parris repeated his request, and followed it with an activation of his targeting radar." As he spoke, the holoprojector came to life, projecting a tactical display of the Ci'va system and the placement of military forces within it. The RDF flotilla was nearest to Ci'va itself, with the Karbarran and Perytonian fleets at 500,000 and 750,000 kilometers distant respectively.
"Did he have a justification for that?" This question came from Senator Jennifer Yang, a prominent member of the Senate Committee for Defense Force Deployment and Coordination. She was present in place of Nova Satori, the committee chairwoman, who was back on Earth dealing with a nasty flu.
"Lieutenant Ferris's wingmate, Ensign Callahan, had run scans of the Perytonian fighters," Baker responded. "All four were carrying missiles on their external hardpoints, which were determined from scans of mass and rad-generation to be anti-ship warheads."
THAT was a bit of a surprise, Fitzgerald had to admit to himself. Apparently the politicos onscreen agreed; the statement was enough to cause murmuring for the better part of a minute.
Baker waited for the murmuring to pass before continuing. "The lead Perytonian fighter responded in kind. Lieutenant Ferris relayed his situation back to the Hood, and the captain instructed his flight to hold the Perytonians from closing on Ci'va, and that the Hood would fold to their position. Almost immediately thereafter, Lieutenant Xian caught part of a comm squeal from the lead Perytonian fighter to its baseship, an Uruk-class warcruiser later identified as the Hoshk. The two capital ships emerged from hyperspace at roughly the same time, approximately forty-five seconds after replying to the flight leaders. During those forty-five seconds, fire was exchanged between the RDF and Perytonian fighters. According to gun-camera footage recovered from the wreckage, both sides opened fire almost simultaneously. The Hoshk arrived first on the scene, saw its fighters being fired on, and began to fire on our remaining fighters. The Hood arrived just in time to see Lieutenant Ferris's fighter destroyed, the last of his flight. The Hood then opened fire on the Hoshk, targeting its anti-aircraft batteries only, then folded back to the fleet anchorage. The Hoshk recovered its surviving fighter and returned to its fleet. Casualty totals are four RDF pilots, three Perytonian pilots, and fourteen Perytonian gunners."
As he spoke, the recovered gun-camera footage started playing, starting with the impromptu dogfight, through the destruction of the four RDF Veritechs, and ending with the Hood hitting the Hoshk with its main turrets.
The room was silent for a long moment before Gunther Reinhardt spoke. Grant's counterpart on Earth, Reinhardt had been the seniormost commander of the REF under Rick and Lisa Hunter, had commanded the main fleet at Reflex Point, and after the war ended and the REF became the RDF once more, he had stepped in as CINCRDF. It was only a few years ago that he had stepped down from that position, accepting a cabinet seat as Terran Director-general of Defense. "How has this incident affected the current state of affairs at Ci'va?"
"There've been no firefights since, either with Perytonian or Karbarran forces," Baker replied. "However, both fleets have stepped up to first-level readiness. As matters stand, all the fuse is waiting for is a match."
In the silence that followed that proclamation, Oliver sat, stunned for a moment, then let out a low whistle. His source hadn't been kidding. RDF ships had actually gone to guns with vessels flying another LGA signatory's flag?
"If that is indeed the case, Admiral Baker, then what is the purpose of this?" The camera swung around abruptly to focus on Penn, who was holding aloft a thick sheaf of printout. "Here I have a printout of your plans, pending approval by this council and by the RDF High Command, for reinforcement of the Ci'va system! This plan as listed calls for the relocation of up to four-fifths of the RDF forces in the Local Group to ONE system! Security considerations for the Republic aside, what makes you think that moving half the Defense Force into Ci'va won't be that lit match you were talking about?" Penn's expression remained serious, but his tone was just a touch more strident than usual.
Baker met his gaze levelly. "Honestly, Councilor, I can't discount the possibility that it might. But thus far, negotiations have made little headway, and there are no signs of that changing anytime soon. Ladies and gentlemen, there is a distinct possibility that Ci'va could be the beginning of the Fourth Robotech War. I think that we should be thinking less of keeping the fuse from being lit and more of having a bucket of water to douse the flames."
And there it was. Already the RDF was thinking of a conflict as inevitable. Granted, there was plenty of reason, but that line of thinking would just make trigger fingers even itchier.
"Thank you for your candor, Admiral." Grant's voice again, in a conciliatory tone. "For the record, would you please summarize your action plan?"
Oliver leaned back in his chair, suppressing a wave of giddiness. This was something Somerville, for all his "inside track" with the RDF, would never see.
"Of course." Baker made a gesture to offscreen, presumably to a junior officer who was operating the holoprojector's controls. The frozen-frame of the Hood's main turrets spitting blue death was replaced by another tactical overlay of the Ci'va system. The icons representing the component groups and squadrons of the RDF task force increased noticeably. "Upon approval of this operation, code-named SAFARI, all of Saturn Fleet and its attached Planetary Forces detachments will fold to Ci'va. This will place a grand total of one battlegroup, five cruiser squadrons, a carrier group, and two fleet support squadrons in-system; Mars Fleet will be detaching one of its battlegroups for defense of Ci'va. Also joining them will be the battlefortress Valivarre, which will be transporting the 1st and 2nd Marine Divisions, and the materiel to establish an airfield and base on Ci'va's surface. All forces within the Ci'va system will be operating at DEFCON-2."
The tactical view of Ci'va changed to one of the Local Group as a whole, and the icons representing Jupiter Fleet shifted around, with the majority of them clustering around Karbarra and Peryton. "At the same time, most of Jupiter Fleet will be shifted to DEFCON-3 and shifted to covering positions in the outer Yirrbisst and Umbra systems. The same would apply to all Army and Air Force units in the Local Group. I also have included a request for reactivation of the Normandie-class transport Titanic, for transport of the First and Third Armies and the First Air Force to the Ci'va system. Finally, Admiral Fletcher, commander of Saturn Fleet, is investigating the possibility of reactivating the fold drives of one of Frakhla's factory satellites and folding it to Ci'va. If, after all these measures have been taken, the Karbarrans and Perytonians still refuse to back down, our in-system commander will declare Ci'va a protectorate of the LGA, to be administered by representatives from the Terran and Tirolian governments."
There was a long silence. Oliver was a bit stunned as well. If this wasn't a full-scale invasion, then he was the next Invid Regent. He was relieved to see Yang echo the spirit of his thoughts a moment later. "Admiral Baker, what you're proposing sounds tantamount to a full-scale invasion."
"I can understand how it seems that way, Senator, but we are thinking more in terms of containment. Since this standoff began, I've been in contact via back channels with some of my colleagues on Karbarra and Peryton, and they are also concerned with the rate of escalation. This is not to say that either world is showing an inclination to take a less aggressive stance vis-à-vis Ci'va, but I think we should consider it a good sign that there are people in the military and civil structures that want to head off another Robotech War. As obliquely as possible, I inquired into the possible reaction to a blockade. Hodel wasn't very happy at the thought - "
"Hodel?! You gave your battle plan to the Karbarran fleet's supreme commander?!" Penn was back on his feet, almost livid this time. It was amazing to see an eighty-year-old Terran man standing firmly, shaking with rage - of course, thanks to Protoculture-based medical and biocosmetic treatments, a man could be five times that and look like he was in his forties. Penn himself still looked like a late-fortyish college professor.
"I didn't give him the whole fucking itinerary, if that's what you're asking," Baker replied, annoyance evident in his features for the first time. "Hodel is a Karbarran and a patriot, but he doesn't want to go to war. Do you know what he told me, ladies and gentlemen? 'There were hundreds of systems in the Robotech Masters' empire, and dozens of them were major industrial centers. My fleets have better things to do, like looking for more of those systems, than be trapped in a standoff with - ' and here he used a Karbarran racial slur for Perytonians. He doesn't like the thought of Jupiter Fleet blockading Karbarra, naturally, but he agreed that if it came to it, he would keep the Home Fleet from challenging it...."
"Glad to see someone over there is thinking soundly," Yang murmured.
"....on the condition that we allow food shipments through," Baker finished. "Remember, due to the damage the planet has sustained from decades of war and centuries of industrialization, more than half of Karbarra's food has to be shipped from their main agro colony on Kli. As long as we can board these vessels to make sure that food is really what they're carrying, I don't see this being a problem."
"And what do your colleagues on Peryton say?" Reinhardt asked.
"As you know, our relations with Karbarra have always been far better than our relations with Peryton," Baker replied. "My counterpart on Peryton, Defense Chancellor Shakk, is even less amenable to conceding ownership of Ci'va, but she would also prefer to keep this from escalating into full-scale war. The majority of Peryton's capital warships are either at Ci'va already or staged at their colony in the Iro system for fleet exercises. The task force blockading Peryton would easily outmatch their current home defenses, and since most of Peryton's surface has been rededicated to agriculture, food shipments will not be a concern."
"Thank you, Admiral Baker," Grant said. "I believe that covers everyth - "
"Not quite," interrupted another voice, this one carrying a slight Nouveau Marseilles accent. Oliver smiled as he recognized Michel d'Amacourt. "Admiral Baker, for some time now, I have been hearing rumors of code-word projects that are not listed as having official authorization."
Baker's expression changed, from that of a professional officer executing his duties to that of a poker player hiding a winning hand. "Senator, any such projects would be covered under the Secret Operations Protocols of 2048. Therefore, I cannot see any reason for you to pursue this line of - "
"What is VEST POCKET?"
Whoever was operating the camera had the presence of mind to sweep the lens around the room, and what it showed was very interesting. About two-thirds of the IDC members present looked confused or curious. The remainder - which included Grant, Reinhardt, and Penn - suddenly looked rather uncomfortable. Baker's poker face flickered - only for a split second, but that was long enough to show that a point had scored home. D'Amacourt wore a smile of self-satisfaction. Matsura and ben Jakob exchanged guarded looks. The junior officers present looked as confused as the politicians.
Matsura spoke for the first time, her normally soft voice now imbued with steel. "Senator d'Amacourt, you helped draft the Secret Operations Protocols. You of all people should know that matters falling under their purview cannot be discussed with active recording devices."
D'Amacourt waved a negligent hand. "I don't believe it's necessary to take such paranoiac measures. As the present senior senator of the Committee for Defense Force Deployment and Coordination, I hereby suspend the no-recordings clause of - "
"Just a minute, Senator," Yang spoke up. "You may be the senior senator present, but Senator Satori appointed me acting chairperson of the committee in her absence." The junior senator's voice was appropriately diffident, but her eyes were definitely twinkling with delight at being able to one-up the powerful Michel d'Amacourt. "And, in that capacity, I recommend that we abide by the advice of Fleet Admiral Matsura." She tabbed a control key on her mike, and spoke again. "By orders of the Secret Operations Protocols of 2048, all recording devices are hereby deactivated. Authorized this date by Senator Jennifer Yang, acting chairperson, Senate Committee for Defense Force Deployment and Coordination, Terran Alliance." She released the control key with a flourish.
Oliver suppressed a wave of annoyance. Yang was Satori's protégé, a former RDF officer who would be more than happy to divert needed funds into the Defense Force's coffers. Worse, she believed she was doing the right thing - and she wasn't the only one, he realized, noting the relieved expressions worn by Grant, Reinhardt, and the rest. It figured that she was kissing Baker and Matsura's asses.
The screen flickered several times, then went black. Almost instantly, it lit up again, once again depicting the conference room. The picture this time was considerably grainier - that and the not-quite-steadiness of the frame indicated that this portion of the video was even less official than the original recording.
D'Amacourt's doing, no doubt; Jack Wolff could trust the senator from Nouveau France, if only because he had literally him by the balls. Several years before, CINC's president had come into possession of a videodisc depicting the erstwhile senator in flagrante delicto with a pair of underage twins - this might not cause an overlarge stir, were it not for the fact that the twins were boys. Oliver idly wondered what skeletons rested in Baker's closet - well, he already knew one very well....
By now, Baker had returned to the desk where his colleagues sat, and was speaking with them. The camera's audio pickups were too far away to eavesdrop, but there were a few scattered seconds of lip movement. Have to get the people at Tech run that through later. Finally, Baker broke away, wearing the expression of an instructor watching his students doing something exactly the way he told them not to.
Instead of returning to the holoprojector, he crossed to the far side of the room, standing under the large flatscreen that dominated one wall. The screen lit up, a deep blue field with the RDF insignia in the center and the words "MOST SECRET - EYES ONLY" emblazoned under it. He began to speak. "To fully understand VEST POCKET, first you must be aware of the operation it is a component of. Code-named BACKSTOP, the operation is a multi-aspect project aimed at further strengthening the Navy, in both numbers and, more important, in quality. There are many projects in this operation, but aside from VEST POCKET itself, there are four major or long-term projects."
The screen switched over to detail of a large beam cannon, slightly larger than a standard heavy particle beam cannon but noticeably smaller than a Reflex cannon. "Project POPGUN is aimed at further reducing the size of a Reflex cannon, with the ultimate end goal being a Reflex cannon that can be mounted in a mobile field-artillery piece."
A sphere surrounding a heavy cruiser replaced the cannon; the sphere appeared to be made up entirely of delicate-looking hexagons. "Project SNOWFLAKE is research into duplicating the advanced defensive forcefields that were mounted aboard the Robotech Masters' motherships."
The englobed cruiser faded away, to be replaced by another cruiser gliding effortlessly across the screen, without its main engines lit. "Project DRIFTER is also concerned with duplicating advanced Tirolian technologies, in this case, the reactionless sublight drives mounted on the motherships. And finally, Project FLASHBULB is the continuation of Tirolian research into the refinement of antimatter production and its development as a viable energy source, to one day perhaps replace Protoculture."
The last image faded, to be replaced by what looked like a heavily-modified Yukikaze-class heavy cruiser - the brick-on-its-side hull shape was retained, but it was perhaps a third again as long, with more gun turrets on the dorsal and ventral centerlines, and more Veritech bays along the side. "Thus far, the first two projects have been the most rapidly successful, and working prototypes of both have been mounted aboard the cruiser Repulse, currently serving as the Navy's testbed vessel at Luna. This testbed has, as you can see, had her hull extended and reinforced, and carries not only additional weapon batteries and mecha squadrons, but an additional Reflex furnace to ensure sufficient power to operate the forcefield and Reflex cannon. The Repulse will be undergoing testing in two weeks, and if she performs as we expect her to, we are seriously considering refitting all heavy cruisers to this model, which would be named the Repulse-class battlecruiser in honor of this vessel. Enclosed in your briefing materials, ladies and gentlemen, are cost and time projections for the complete refitting of the Yukikaze class to the Repulse class, which, in my opinion and that of the RDF High Command, would be a worthwhile investment."
D'Amacourt looked faintly bored. Probably daydreaming about the fetching young lads from Rilac, Oliver thought sourly. "Very interesting, Admiral, but I fail to see the connection of this with VEST POCKET."
"Oh, I think you will, Senator." Baker's expression was impeccably professional, but his tone was faintly mocking. "Nine years ago, when the RDF was voted sufficient funding to build and maintain its strength at current levels, there were many in the upper echelons of both the High Command and both governments who worried that this still might not be enough should a new threat arise - and before the Senator from Nouveau France interrupts me again, I would assert that there is still a good chance of us encountering hostile forces. Remember, there are tens of thousands of Zentraedi warships still unaccounted for, and they cannot all have fallen prey to the lack of Protoculture. Also, the whereabouts of neither the Robotech Elders nor the Invid Regis and her forces are known to us. While I am disinclined to suspect the latter as a probable future opponent, the former could very well surface with any number of forces. At any rate, the past fifty years should have ingrained in us the knowledge of what happens when Earth - and Tirol - are unprepared for war."
"Where exactly are you going with this, Admiral?" Yang eyed Baker warily. That was interesting in itself - her confusion appeared genuine, which was very surprising, considering that Satori was grooming her for her post.
"You're about to find out, Senator." Baker turned to the junior officer operating the holoprojector. "Lieutenant, put up Figure 6, please, and have Figure 7 on standby for concurrent overlay." The lieutenant in Air Force light-blue complied, and another figure appeared in midair, this one a cost-projection labeled "Projected Costs, Complete Overhauling of RDF Naval Bases and Satellites - Fiscal Year 2048". "These are the figures that the High Command presented you with in 2047 for the complete upgrading of all existing Navy bases and Factory Satellites. Lieutenant, Figure 7 now, please." The second figure appeared under the first.
A moment of silence passed, as the full ramifications sank in, and then hell broke loose. D'Amacourt shot out of his chair, his face livid. "What in hell?!" he roared. Yang was rocked back in her chair, slightly pale as her mind ran over the discrepancies.
Baker didn't bother to suppress his cynically-satisfied smirk. "That's right, ladies and gentlemen. The cost figures were inflated by nearly 50%. Would you like to see what those extra credits bought?" The lieutenant, anticipating the request, fed in the next figure. The cost figures were replaced by several columns of names, grouped under the heading "Reserve Fleet Constructed Under Auspices of Strategic Readiness Plan of 2048".
A secret fleet.
My dear god, Fitzgerald thought. He froze the frame displaying the columns of ship names and enlarged it, reading quickly.... good lord. Forty-eight heavy cruisers,
one-hundred-nine light cruisers, twenty tenders, seventy transports, five-hundred-twelve corvettes. This was a fleet almost three times as large as the Navy currently in service. And the Defense Force had been sitting on it - nay, had been HOARDING it - for the last decade. The heavy cruisers alone would completely upset the balance of power in the Local Group, even if the RDF was the largest single national military.
Baker's smirk was gone, replaced once more by an almost-placid professional expression. "In 2048, the Defense Force was voted funds sufficient to rebuild to a level of strength 50% greater than our strength as of Reflex Point. However, it was felt, both among senior members of the High Command and certain members of both the Terran and Tirolian governments, that even such a buildup would be insufficient in the case of yet another invasion - or worse, in the case of tensions between our allies boiling over. Thus, VEST POCKET was enacted, both as a strong reserve force and as a navy of sufficient size to discourage wars like the one about to erupt at Ci'va."
Silence met him, which Baker took as a sign to forge ahead. "As I stated before, should the Repulse's tests go as we expect, the Defense Force plans to seek funding for refitting all Yukikaze-class cruisers to the Repulse design scheme. When including our VEST POCKET fleet, and all existing battlefortresses, this would give us over a hundred warships mounting Reflex cannons. The Karbarrans possess only nineteen, their fourteen Tracialle-class battlecruisers and five Yirrbisst-class dreadnoughts. The only Perytonian vessel carrying a Reflex cannon is their fleet flagship, a refurbished Seron Thoun-class Border Fleet cruiser. Speaking frankly, we would outgun the Karbarrans five-to-one, and the Perytonians nearly a hundred-to-one."
"Power projection?" mused Yang, having regained her composure.
"I have no desire to see either Earth or Tirol become the center of a new Robotech Empire, but yes. A lot of potential conflicts may be headed off simply with the knowledge that a cruiser armed with a Reflex cannon could fold in at any time."
"Or may be brought to the boiling point," Penn murmured.
Matsura took up the speaking again. "We can't deny that possibility, Councilor. But, as Admiral Baker already stated, this war is almost a certainty. And it is equally likely that we'll be sucked into it, either on one side or another, or as 'peacekeeping' forces arrayed against both Karbarra and Peryton. We will need ships. And we will need ships that can field the maximum amount of firepower." She spread her arms in a gesture of resignation. "We're the only ones who can."
A long silence fell over the chamber, finally broken by Reinhardt's half-snort, half-chuckle. "Ladies and gentlemen, I believe the term is 'fait accompli."
It was soon after this that the less-unofficial cameras were reactivated, and thus ended the truly interesting part of the meeting, at least to Fitzgerald.
Two more things were accomplished: First, the IDC's agreement to bring the VEST POCKET fleet to active-reserve status quietly, and to begin secretly shifting the vessels to the other major naval bases at Frakhla and Luna. Second, a vote to secure funds for the refitting of the already-deployed heavy cruiser fleet, over the course of the next five years, was approved, pending the Repulse's final tests. Fitzgerald had little doubt that refitting of the secret fleet would soon follow. The rest of the meeting was mere bookkeeping.
As the disc reached its end and returned the monitor to blue, Fitzgerald turned his chair towards the window. Fantoma was especially bright tonight.
As much in the ascendant as his star was about to be.
End Chapter 1
Timeline (2045-2057):
2045: REF main fleet returns and engages Invid forces in Battle of Reflex Point. Invid are routed at the cost of nearly 3/4 of the REF fleet (several hundred warships). Robotech Defense Force is re-organized from the remaining REF forces and most of the anti-Invid resistance groups. RDF high command, headed by General Gunther Reinhardt, sets up a planetary command center on the former site of Reflex Point and invites the representatives of the various governments to reconvene in North America to discuss reforming a world government. On Tirol, Max Sterling is elected second chief minister of the Tirolian Republic. A number of REF officers, including Cdr. Scott Bernard, embark on Operation ROADWAY, a search for the missing SDF-3 Pioneer. Gen. Vince Grant leads this mission, consisting of a squadron of refitted cruisers.
2046-2047: The Provisional Government convention is held, attended mostly by representatives of city-states and settlements from North and South America, the Far East, and Western Europe. At the end of it, the Terran Alliance is formed as a democratic republic holding authority over the Sol system, as well as any future worlds colonized outward from Sol. Official contact with the Tirolian Republic is established, and is quickly followed by an official alliance. The RDF is adopted as the official military agency of both worlds. Deirdre Faulkner, chief delegate from the West Coast Federation and one of the principal architects of the new government, is appointed the interim president.
2047: Elections for the Terran Senate and the presidency commence. For the most part, the interim officials, including President Faulkner, are carried over. The RDF is voted sufficient funds by both the Terran and Tirolian governments to rebuild their forces to 50% over their strength as of Reflex Point; this includes the massive repair/retooling costs of the various Factory Satellites. Framing plan for a permanent federation between Earth, Tirol, and the Sentinels worlds begins to take shape on Tirol. Project SNOWFLAKE, a project aimed at duplicating the force fields of the Robotech Masters' motherships, is given full support and funding at Luna - the research had actually began right after the Second Robotech War, but the Invid invasion had interfered.
2048: The Local Group Alliance is established, with its headquarters located on Tirol. Full-scale production of the next generation of RDF warships begins, concentrating on the Yukikaze-class heavy cruisers (improved and upgunned versions of the Ikazuchi, renamed after the first Ikazuchi to undergo full refits), the Flintlock-class light cruisers (a "bigger and better" version of the Garfish, carrying additional weapons and a much larger mecha capacity), and the Dragon-class corvette (the Robotech Masters' assault carriers, adapted to Terran use). The first Terran extrasolar colony vessels launch, establishing Earth's first colony on New Terra in the Alpha Centauri system. The RDF High Command approves two new heavy warship designs, the Henry Gloval-class carrier and the Sentinel-class battlefortress. The ROADWAY flotilla returns to Tirol, having made no progress at all in their search; SDF-3 is officially declared "MISSING - PRESUMED DESTROYED". The majority of ROADWAY's personnel either retire from service or transfer to the RDF; Scott Bernard is among the latter, accepting a promotion to captain and command of the heavy cruiser Thunderer.
2049-2052: Numerous small-scale and brushfire conflicts on Earth, between RDF forces and anti-TA militaries. During this time, most of the remaining independent nations on Earth are persuaded to join the Alliance. Also, during this time period, many high-ranking officers in the RDF, fearful of the results of another full-scale international conflict, make plans for the secret construction of a large reserve fleet of warships. This project is code-named VEST POCKET, begins in 2049 at the Port of New Tiresia shipyard satellite orbiting Tirol, and its cost is hidden in the various costs of repairing and retooling the various Factory Satellites under RDF control. Terran colony vessels settle a number of systems in the region surrounding Sol. In international politics, the International Annexation Act is passed, as both incentive to rediscover the uncontacted worlds of the former Robotech Empire and as an attempt to keep conflicts from arising over recently found systems. In 2051, Max Sterling is re-elected for a second six-year term of office.
2053: Exploration vessels from Earth locate the long-lost system of Frakhla, once a major industrial center of the Robotech Empire. While the system's sole planet is largely barren, many of the long-abandoned orbital and asteroid-belt facilities – including the system's shipyard factory satellites – are largely intact. Earth and Tirol immediately declare their annexation of the system. Karbarra and Peryton, who immediately step up their efforts to locate former Tirolian systems, make the only serious objections in the LGA General Assembly. The first Gloval-class carrier and Sentinel-class battlefortress enter service. RDF commander-in- chief Gunther Reinhardt retires from active duty and is appointed Terran director-general of defense.
2054: Official reconstruction of the RDF's warship fleet reaches its preassigned cut-off point. Construction of the VEST POCKET fleet continues until early 2057. A large RDF garrison and task force is posted to Frakhla. The Yukikaze-class cruiser RDFS Repulse is reassigned to Port Gloval to serve as a testbed vessel for new weapons technologies.
2055: Former RDF general John Carpenter is elected Terran president. Jack Baker is promoted to full Admiral and appointed CINCLOGRU. First designs for a dedicated landing-assault ship, tentatively named the Mekong-class, are submitted. Restoration of the Frakhla factory satellites is begun. A third fleet of the RDF Navy, Saturn Fleet, is formed at Frakhla, around a core of a stellar battlegroup and several cruiser squadrons. Design work on the Antigone-class destroyer-escort, a fold-capable version of the Dragon-class corvette, begins.
2056: Tensions between the Karbarrans and Perytonians continue to rise. This almost results in a firefight between vessels belonging to both factions in the Kao system; this is barely headed off by Haydonite and RDF ships.
2057: Today…