Sharin looked out over the compound. Micronians swarmed about, working, and doing generally micronian things, with the zentraedi towering over them, either working themselves, or in the time honored tradition of soldiers everywhere, trying to look like they were working and thus avoid the attention of senior officers who could find them things to do.
She was perched on the top of the long low hill that marked the location of her flagship, fully operational, although shielded from weapons or (more importantly) the prying eyes of RDF space forces. Blow away covers over missile and beam emplacements were also camouflaged, as were the egress points for the mecha hangers-- although most mecha had it's own hangers, constructed over the last year. The other ships she'd kept alive were similarly buried, except for the two Tou Redir scouts at the airdrome, fully functional, with two others being used as spares banks. Less than two micronian years, she thought, with some pride.
"I sent the message." The voice came behind her, and the short commander looked over at Comofficer Sara.
"Thank you." Sharin said.
"Tzarna wants to talk to you about this." Sara said, "So does Zara, and Korva."
"Which ones are most upset?"
"You need to ask? Tzarna. She thinks this is insanity."
"Maybe, but it has to be done." Sharin said. "And it has to be done right—prepare the micronization chamber."
"The-commander…you wouldn't…"
"It will be hard to negotiate if I cannot fit in the room now, won't it?" She said. "As I said, It has to be done."
***
Boris Vakowsky was on the phone when the call came.
"Sorry father-- duty calls!" He said and hung up.
"Another grandchild guilt trip?" Carl Tomkins asked. Boris' wingman, Carl was thinner than Boris, with untidy blonde hair instead of Boris's crew cut black hair. Boris nodded, sadly.
"Yes… you would think with the other children they have enough…but no." He sighed. "Always they must call me." He finished in his faux Russian accent. Carl laughed and punched him in the shoulder. Like many of the RDF, Boris and his family had originally been a Russian military family, and Boris felt the need to uphold the national reputation. A second announcement, more impatient than the first, got them moving.
When Boris entered the briefing room, he snapped to attention. His CO was there…but nobody said anything about Admiral Gloval! Carl did the same, as they waited for the Admiral to speak. Gloval waved at some chairs.
"Please, be seated gentlemen." The two pilots sat down, looking over at their CO, who seemed equally in the dark.
"The following data." Gloval said, "Has only recently come to light. As you know, in the year and a half since the SDF-1 has touched down, we have made great strides in re-contacting surviving human enclaves, across the globe." They nodded, that was common knowledge. "We have also determined that many zentraedi are even worse off than we are." Gloval paused and lit his pipe, puffing on it.
"The zentraedi formerly under Dolza have splintered, squadrons, ships, and even individual units going their own way." Gloval looked down at the two pilots. "And of course that is to our great good fortune-- the numbers of zentraedi, even crashed, could make things hard on us and Breetai's allied forces. As it is, many of the ships that survived have taken the amnesty offered by Breetai, and those on the earth have been handicapped by their infighting." Boris and Carl nodded. While there had been continual raids, there was almost no coordination-- the zentraedi were acting more like a mob than the finely honed military they'd faced before the end of the command fortress.
"Which brings us to this group." The captain said and touched a button. The room darkened, and the wall screen came up. "We discovered this by the ruins of Macao." He said. Like all industrialized areas, the coastal regions of China had received great attention from Dolza's forces. The long range picture showed craters, a half demolished city… and a smaller region by it that seemed more orderly. The captain punched another button, and the view zoomed in. "This was only recently possible-- the air is finely losing some of that dust." he muttered. Now it was much closer, and Boris and Carl shot upright at what it revealed. Several Tou Radir scouts were grounded, not crashed as they normally appeared. In addition, huge mounds were in center view, easily large enough to hide capital zentraedi ships. A organized settlement was around them with roads and buildings, both micronian and zentraedi in size. Carl gave a whistle.
"I haven't seen anything like that." He said.
"Correct." Gloval said, "Our intelligence indicates that the main body of the zentraedi came from the 324th Elite Strike detachment. Breetai has informed us that such units were equipped for the deep penetration and strike role, with skilled soldiers, cutting edge mecha and ships, and the best commanders….they were intended to go behind the lines, and operate without support, as "head hunter" units." Gloval shrugged, "But that is not the only zentraedi unit to be here-- we have also found indications that large numbers of formerly unaffiliated zentraedi have found their way here, including at least one ground combat formation: possibly a planetary assault and combat engineering unit." Gloval continued, "They have also apparently engaged in large scale salvage operations… in sum, there may be nearly 100,000 zentraedi soldiers, along with mecha and weapons." Carl and Boris looked at each other. That wasn't a job for their squadron, that was a job for a good chunk of the entire RDF.
"But the situation is…complicated." The admiral continued. "These zentraedi have also engaged in gathering large numbers of humans under their control, although to be honest, given that we were unable to provide much relief to these areas, it appears that in many cases, the "gathering" was simply offering food and water. Our information indicates that they are well treated, in return for serving and supporting the zentraedi."
"Pardon me sir…but what does that have to do with us?" Boris asked, "Our entire squadron wouldn't be enough for that, and I'm assuming that nukes are out."
"Oh definitely, Lieutenant." Gloval said, without a hint of annoyance. "Because in the last two days we have received communications from these zentraedi…they wish to discuss a formal ending of hostilities, based on their acceptance as an independent, but neutral settlement." Carl and Boris both blinked at that. Carl looked like he wanted to say something. Gloval noticed that and nodded his head.
"I thought it was our policy to integrate the zentraedi." Carl said.
"Yes…but this is a special group. They have both the firepower and organization to cause a great deal of trouble…to put it bluntly, we do not have the forces to compel them." Gloval looked at the read outs, "But equally, they are a very rare group-- almost no other zentraedi force has a combination of military power and organization, and almost none have humans intermixed with them… which makes this group sufficiently unusual that the precedent set should not be a large one. More importantly, unlike the majority of independent zentraedi, they seem at least willing to discuss co-existence…and for that reason, I have selected you to go to the enclave, and escort their representative back to the SDF-1 for discussions on a permanent treaty."
***
"I cannot believe this!" Tzarna, overall airborne mecha commander, third in command, and generally aggressive zentraedi said as she stalked across the conference room. Her commander, Fleet Commander Sharin, watched her with disguised affection. Tzarna had been with her from the very beginning, and in those years, Sharin had come to understand one thing-- Tzarna liked people around her to know when she disagreed with something…
"You would go there, alone?" She said. "Are you insane?"
"Quite sane." Sharin said, and looked over at the other officers. "We need this agreement."
"Why?" Tzarna said. "We have the most powerful organized force of zentraedi on the continent!"
"That we know of." Korva, the male zentraedi who had linked up with them, pledging his ground combat formation to Sharin, said. Tzarna glared at him. Korva continued in his deep voice, "But there is still Breetai's fleet, and the RDF."
"We can defeat them!"
"Correct." Korva said. The zentraedi rose to his feet, dwarfing everyone else in the room.. Sharin was short for a zentraedi, but Korva…Korva was very nearly Breetai sized. "I agree." He said, surprising the others.
"We can win…one battle." He said, "We have sufficient stocks of mecha, missiles and troops to fight for days-- weeks, of full scale combat." He stomped his foot on the deck. "Your strike battleship, the carrier, and the other ships we have can fly-- they can even fight because you dropped them beneath the atmosphere before Dolza's ship exploded." He paused. "We can do this… once." Korva walked to the window that opened onto the bridge.
"Then…what? The micronians can build more mecha, we cannot. We cannot get reinforcements-- Dolza took every ship that could fold in the first place! We cannot replace lost crew members…" He turned back to Tzarna. "Yes, we can win…one battle. But we cannot win a war, and that is what your one battle will produce." Sharin said nothing. Other commanders liked to rant and rave, and push their subordinates around. She preferred to lead by consensus-- she'd chosen them for their skill, so it was foolish not to permit them to use it. Tzarna had taken the fall of the fleet harder than most of them, though. Korva was a ground pounder-- and used to the great proclamations of space and air support turning out to be exaggerated…although even he'd never seen a disaster of this magnitude. Korva had contacted them during the huge melee that had culminated with the destruction of the command base, and his men were now integrated among their own-- an act which had convinced Tzarna that they would soon be singing Minmei songs.
That hadn't happened, but Sharin knew Korva better now, and he'd confided the temptation to break out into such a song, just to see what color Tzarna would turn. Sharin had ordered him not to-- Tzarna was a friend and companion, and she was having a hard enough time as it was.
Tulka weapon officer spoke up. She hadn't had much to do, since no targets worthy of the ships main weapons had appeared, so she'd been occupied working with Korva, and some micronians with engineering talent, building emplacements-- that had already been tested against some bandit zentraedi, to perfection. Her short red hair, blue eyes and wide mouth combined to form an absolutely gleeful package when she was lining up some poor Invid hive as a firing test for the fleets weapons…but now she was unwontedly serious.
"And even if we do win, what than? We cannot leave-- we barely have enough protoculture in the ships energizers to keep us active for one engagement…or one fold. Not both." She shrugged, "How many options do we have? Act like those bandits, running around and fighting for no other reason than to be fighting?" Tzarna glared at her, and Sharin took a hand. She stood up and walked over to the bulkhead. She was shorter than anyone else in the room, with black curly hair. She'd been their commander, with the exception of Korva, for over fifteen years, and in that time had defeated all enemies that had come before them.
"Tzarna…Korva is right." Sharin said, "And we must look to the future. The micronians will grow more powerful over time. As they recover, they will build factories, farms… look at what the micronians that have come to us have done with the salvage from the city, in only a year!" She said, and everyone nodded. Sharin's deal had been simple-- work for the zentraedi, and be fed and protected, and have your family protected. For the ragged bands staggering out of their shelters, that had been heaven… and the fact that Sharin didn't micromanage them was also a plus. Many of the systems of the ships were working better than they ever had, the remnants of an RDF fabrication center had been broken down and transported to the ship in order to repair and refit their mecha, and the few doctors, under Gary Chang, had worked incredible feats of healing on zentraedi who would normally be written off.
"And all that is only a fraction of what the RDF is accomplishing." Sharin continued. "Yes, right now we could win a battle, but not a war." She paused, "But as the years pass, their power will grow far greater than ours…and the only way to secure our survival is to make them unwilling to destroy us…which requires…politics." She said, unable to keep some distaste out of her voice at the micronian word.
"And what if they want too high a price?" Tzarna said.
"Than we will have your battle, Tzarna." Sharin said seriously. "I am going to have myself micronized now. Korva, Tzarna, Zara …you are in charge until I return." She paused, "try not to kill each other…"
"Why Micronized?" Korva asked, seriously. "There is no need for that, surely."
"Yes…" Sharin said, "I think they will be more open with me if I am their size…" She smiled, "and it may put them off balance if they expect a giant zentraedi, and get someone who is barely five feet tall." Korva nodded at that, but Tzarna frowned.
"I don't trust them." She said. Sharin nodded.
"Trust is overrated right now…but hopefully we can deal with them."
***
Boris and Carl were flying with the two veritechs flying escort on the VTOL. The waters of the sea of Japan moved past underneath them. They would be at the enclave in less than thirty minutes.
"Ten buck's gets you that this is a plot to blow us up." Carl said.
"Twenty says you're wrong." Boris replied.
"Why?"
"Because they've heard about you and the girls, and they're going to kidnap you for a secret zentraedi Harem."
"Oh man, and me without my suit…"
Sharin stood on the landing field, feeling strange. The micronization had taken hold and had repaired the damage…but everything seemed wrong. The wind that hadn't been noticeable as a full sized zentraedi now chilled her, and her point of view was all wrong… and she had been used to being short! In front of them, the RDF transport squatted on the ground, it's turbines spinning up, and an escort of four Veritech fighters in battloid standing guard. Sharin fought envy-- those mecha were nearly as good in battloid as a standard power armor, and could also act as fighters-- the destroid factory they'd salvaged had never built such mecha… Still, they had repaired all their mecha, and some of the modifications that Tulka was working on might surprise even these veritechs, to say nothing of the mecha she'd carefully kept hidden. She looked up at Tzarna, standing in her uniform.
"You shouldn't go," Tzarna said again.
"Yes, I have to." Sharin shouted up to her, annoyed that now she had to yell. "I don't want this hanging over my head-- we have enough problems with the strikers, the marauders, and the purifiers. WE don't need to add the RDF to them!." Meanwhile, a conversation was going on in two of the battloids.
LT J.G. Boris "Badenov" Vakowsky had dialed up his visuals on Sharin and was making comments to his wingmate.
"Will you look at those, Carl? I bet she needs help getting up in the morning!" He laughed, "I'd help her!"
"Well, the rest of her isn't too bad, either." His wingmate added, "But that other lady, the big one, she's pretty good too." Boris looked up at her, and than frowned.
"Yah, she's pretty too…but she'd rip off your balls, I bet." He shrugged, "That one looks like a sweet little thing…."
"Don't forget, that that "sweet little thing" is in charge of this whole base-- want to bet there's steel under that face?" Boris frowned at that, and looked again at the two. The big one was typical zentraedi -- curves with a face that would be pretty…if she'd ever smile. Curly brown hair falling in a torrent down her back, with eyes that looked like they belonged in a model-- it almost made you forget her body armor and gun.
The micronized zentraedi was standing at her feet. Boris could tell that she probably barely came up to his shoulder-- maybe even shorter. Beyond her obvious assets, she was curved like a dream…but not like someone would expect a commander of an entire base. Her black hair was a mass of curls, shorter than her companion, coming down to just below her shoulders. Boris was watching her when suddenly, she looked up to him. The monitor gave a very good look at her face. Intelligent green eyes, defined cheekbones, and a mouth that looked equally at home in a smile or a frown-- and didn't look at home taking any guff whatsoever. He lost sight of her face as the other zentraedi, and a new one, a male that looked like he'd been carved from granite, both knelt down to speak with her.
"Yeah…I can see your point." He said to Carl.
"As strange as it sounds, I agree with Tzarna." Korva said. "Go, but with an escort." Sharin looked at him in some annoyance.
"Korva, they know that other zentraedi will be watching this-- I don't think I have to worry about a double cross." She smiled, "And by trusting them, I put them off balance. Trust me."
"Hmph." Was all Tzarna said. Sharin frowned.
"Tzarna-- you have your orders."
"Yes, Commander." She sighed in irritation, looking at Korva for support. He also looked worried.
"We both do, and we'll carry them out… but Sharin, you are the core of this unit-- don't do anything stupid."
"Trust me." She said, and walked towards the VTOL. The RDF crew let her in, and in a moment, the VTOL lifted off, followed by the veritechs. In a few moments, they were both gone.
"I trust her… I don't know about the RDF." Korva said. Tzarna looked at him and nodded, in more agreement than they'd had since he'd arrived.
"I know…she's trusting the people that helped destroy the zentraedi."
***
Sharin sat in the seat, working on some paperwork. Just because she was micronized and on her way to a conference didn't mean the material in her IN basket was going to go away, as Gary said. Running the zentraedi was hard enough-- but working to insure that the micronians remained fed, happy and willing to work for them sometimes bordered on impossible-- as much due to the fact that Sharin didn't always understand what they wanted, as anything else.
That brought her to the bustling of the micronian town that had grown up around their base. The fact that some of her zentraedi, male and female, who had been micronized were now cohabitating…and thank Zor Tzarna didn't know about that. The sight of Korva, mighty warlord of the zentraedi, micronized with a micronian child on each shoulder as he walked back from the dam project. Korva had been enthralled with the idea of finally building something that would last-- he'd even commandeered a squad and spent several days going over the "Great Wall." Sharin didn't see the point, but Korva acted like he'd been brought before the Robotech Masters themselves.
And that was the problem. They were already contaminated-- more so than most believed possible.
***
"Coming over Lat Am pretty soon," Carl said. Boris nodded in his veritech.
"Got that… why didn't we just come in direct?"
"Orders-- with everything going on with the zentraedi right now, meeting an independent leader might get some people PO'd. "
"Leonard the jackass?"
"None other…" Boris snorted at that. "He's still trying to get his own army, you know that…"
"god…let me retire before-- what?" Carl had been interrupted by his com.
"All veritechs, a zentraedi scout ship has lifted from the ocean and is on a course towards the Rio space port-- engage immediately!"
"Boris, you stay here-- we'll come back just as soon as we're finished with that ship."
"Why do you get all the fun?" Boris asked.
"'Cause I have seniority!" Carl said, as the other three mecha peeled off.
Inside, Sharin listened to the com. Another group of malcontents-- a scout ship was dangerous, but it wouldn't survive an assault on the RDF. She sighed. If they were going to attack, they might as well be competent at it. She leaned back, and waited. Another hour and a half and they'd be at their destination. Then the ship shuddered violently. A sudden glimpse of a black veritech, escorted by three fighter pods gave way to blue sky as the transport went into a desperate spin.
Boris was cursing. Where had they come from, and why were they shooting at him? The fighter pods were keeping him busy, while a black veritech went after the transport. His radio was full of jamming, and he couldn't break off long enough to help the VTOL. He used his short range radio to give the transport orders.
"Head for the jungle-- land there and wait!" The transport tried. It really did. But a particle beam sliced through part of the wing, and it began to stagger in the air. Meanwhile, Boris took another hit from the mystery jet, and watched as half his panel lights turned red.
Sharin hung on for dear life. Then, from the cockpit.
"We're going to go into VTO-- you'll have to try and jump, this bitch won't stay in the air very long." Sharin popped the passenger hatch and looked out in disbelief-- the ground was at least sixty feet down! On the other hand, there was a clump of trees…maybe if she could break her- The cabin flashed red as a particle beam destroyed the cockpit with the pilots in it. Sharin needed no more imputus. She jumped, desperately hoping that she'd be able to break her fall. She was. Painfully. Branches hit her in the face, she used every foul word she could think of, and than the soft ground came up and hit her unreasonably hard.
She rolled over just in time to see the transport explode, as Boris' veritech came in guardian mode, shooting down one of the fighterpods, before being riddled with fire from the black veritech. She watched as a last salvo of missiles detonated in the clearing, taking out mecha. Sharin waited, as the fighterpods (what were left of them), and the veritechs took off, heading for the north. The fire at the transports wreckage popped and hissed.
A hand touched her and she spun around, ready to kill, and found herself looking up at a RDF pilot with "BORIS BADENOV" on his helmet, surmounted by some silly drawing. He was big-- nearly as big as Korva was micronized, and a pair of brown eyes looked out at her when he pulled his sunglasses off. He raised his hands to his lips, and gestured down away from the crash site.
They both walked quickly-- there was no sign they'd been followed, and Sharin wondered if they'd even been seen, but on the other hand, getting out of the area made sense. They walked for almost an hour, not speaking, every sense alert for pursuit. There was none. Finally, they stopped.
"Well Lieutenant?" Sharin asked. Boris looked at her, and saw that everything he'd thought about her was true. Yes, she was stacked like a battlefortress, yes, she was short coming up only to his chest, yes she had curly hair and a cute face…but he noticed something else about her.
Yes, she was very much a high ranking officer who was in an unhappy mood right now. Carl was right-- a weakling wouldn't have the command she did, especially now, that there was no Dolza to hide behind.
"About that?" He asked, "I should ask you-- there were fighter pods."
"I noticed…but fighter pods are easier to get a hold of than veritechs-- I should know, I've tried enough to obtain them." She said, calmly but with an air of tension. "More importantly, who wants to kill me? Or more to the point, who wants to kill me in such a way as to make the RDF look responsible?"
"You think?" Boris asked in shock. "Ma'am-"
"Call me Sharin-- I doubt discipline will suffer." She said dryly. "And yes, it makes sense-- my command staff was worried about this, and I know what most of them will think."
"Then it couldn't be the RDF…unless…."
"Unless?"
"Unless there were some that wanted an out and out battle with your group so they could kill them." He said reluctantly.
"Which means the sooner we get to a radio, the better." She said,
"Not right now." Boris said. "Anyone who'de do what just happened… has a lot of resources. I think we need to get to a major base where there are enough people around that we don't have to worry about knives in the dark."
"Agreed." Sharin sighed. "And for both our sakes, I'd suggest avoiding any zentraedi-- where are we, precisely." Boris looked around the jungle.
"This used to be Brazil-- RDF Rio and RDF Brasillia are the closest big bases-- I can't imagine everyone there was in on this."
"How far?"
"About two hundred miles." He said, Sharin looked at the jungle in disbelief. Boris noted that and laughed.
"But there were some villages not more than twenty miles from here-- this region is fairly safe from Zen-er, raiders. Once we get there, we can get on a road, and that'll go faster. " Sharin thought hard.
"That's what we'll have to do-- but I'll need a radio as soon as possible."
"To give those fellows another chance?"
"To keep my soldiers from doing anything…rash." Boris thought about that base, the mecha, the thousands of troops, and nodded soberly.
"I can see that…lets go."
END PART ONE.