Chapter 7
The passenger compartment of the TC-1 was something Rick welcomed. On most occasions, he despised being carried through the sky without a set of flight controls at his disposal. But after the events of his harrowing close call, Rick was content to sit back and let somebody else do the flying.
The TC-1 aircraft was built for multiple roles, so it was uncommon to find two exactly alike. This particular plane's interior was cold and crude in design. Its passengers sat in two rows of bolted-down seats, ripped from the cockpits of old Veritechs. The seats were locked against the walls of exposed steel. Every few seats, a square, bulletproof window was cut into the plane's side.
But Rick was used to such things. The military seemed unable to recovered from the war's effects. With the destruction of the SDF-1 and most of the Earth's Robotech facilities, studies of the alien Robotechnology had begun to fade. A good portion of the RDF's fleet now consisted of Global War-era fighters, redesigned with elements of Robotechnology.
Rick glanced around the passenger compartment. His thoughts turned to days past, when scores of Veritechs fought against terrible odds in desparate space battles. Every time they launched, their lives were at stake, and the thousands of people aboard the SDF-1 were counting on them.
To return alive, and fight again tomorrow.
Rick sighed, and nodded to himself. Some things never change, I guess.
"What's your problem?"
Hansen sat beside him, on the opposite row. His flight suit was torn up, and tied together with bandages. He cradled his arm in a makeshift sling. Battlefield sutures covered his face.
"Nothing," said Rick. "Nevermind."
"Whatever," said Hansen. He turned his head and looked out the window.
Rick thought silently for a moment. "How's the arm?" he asked.
"Hurts like hell. Serves me right."
Another moment of silence, and the TC-1's engine noise filled the compartment.
"You'd have kicked some butt in a Veritech," Rick said.
"Damn right, we would've."
Rick took a breath. "Listen...it's never easy to--"
"We're in space."
"...What?"
"Look out the window."
Rick turned around. On the other side of his window was the blackness of outer space, and the twinkle of distant stars.
"Where the hell are they taking us?" Hansen growled sullenly.
Rick unlocked his seatbelt and stood up. "I'm gonna find out."
He walked to the forward end of the compartment. A small, windowless hatch led to the cockpit. Rick opened the hatch and climbed through, shutting it behind him.
The cockpit was illuminated in bright green from the many instrument panels. The pilot and copilot's seats were side by side. The pilot was present on the left, but the right seat was empty.
"Mind if I sit down?" Rick asked.
"Sir, no sir," said the pilot casually. "What can I help you with?"
"Care to tell me why we're not going to Echo?"
"It's a long story, sir," he replied. "But you're entitled to it."
Rick sat down in the copilot's chair. "Gimme the short version."
The pilot adjusted a few knobs, and raised the throttle. "Echo Base is under lockdown, sir. There's some weird stuff going on down there."
"What do you mean, lockdown?" asked Rick. "As in, the entire base is quarantined?"
"More or less. It's been temporarily shut down since the admiral's arrest."
"Arrest?!" Rick asked. "Eh...come again?"
The pilot nodded. "In short, Admiral Sever was arrested for unknown charges. I don't know much more. But it does involve today's battle, I know that much."
"A...conspiracy!"
The pilot's helmet nodded again. "My speculation is so. But it's just a guess. Who knows what's really going on anymore."
Rick leaned back in the seat, and took a breath. "Where are we going?" he said solenmly.
"Admiral Breetai is present on the Ultimatum. He's granted you and your squadmates asylum for as long as this takes to settle out. Sorry about this, sir...but you might be with us for awhile."
As the transport craft turned, the G.S.S. Ultimatum came into view. Its long, angular shape resembled the father of all Robotech starships, the SDF-1. But no ship was as massive in size, or as fantastic in design, as the Super Dimension Fortress. And in Rick's eyes, the Ultimatum was nothing more than a scaled-down imitation. It could never command the same authority, or deserve the same respect that the SDF-1 had so well deserved.
"I know it's not home," said the pilot, "but it's not so bad."
Rick raised an eyebrow. "Looks a lot like home to me," he said.
Rick sat beside Joons and Martinez, in a spacious council room. They addressed a panel of officials, seated at a long table across from them. The men present included Admiral James Reave, the Ultimatum's captain. He was a black-bearded man who sat in a motorized wheelchair, but still looked dignified and imposing in his own rite. Also present was Dr. Emil Lang, one of the first researchers on Robotechnology. Lang appeared just as he did years ago, with a dead-serious stare in his beady eyes, and wearing a lab coat he had probably used thousands of times before.
Between these two was the man called Breetai. His presence made him the center of attention by default. Once he was the commander of the SDF-1's Zentraedi pursuers. But for years now, his military genius had been at the service of the Robotech Defense Force. Even in his micronized state, he was two feet taller than the men beside him. His blue-tinted body was covered in shining battle armor. A section of his face, from his skull to under his right eye, was hidden beneath a steel mask.
"And therefore, Admiral Sever has been placed under arrest. His charges include attempted murder in the first degree, endangering the lives of military personnel, jeopardizing military property... and sexual assault by threat of violence. All of these crimes are Global Felonies. I assure you all that Sever will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law."
Breetai's deep, powerful voice gave more weight to the terrible things he was saying. Joons and Martinez looked at each other, and shook their heads in disbelief. Rick sat forward with his elbows on the table, holding his head in his hands.
Admiral Reeve cleared his throat, and spoke. "The G.S.S. Ultimatum is planning to bring this case to the Global Council. We'd like to decorate Commander Hayes with the Silver Star, for her undying bravery despite the pressures and personal danger she faced. She's a true soldier if I've ever seen one."
"I'll say!" said Martinez. Joons nodded in silent approval.
Rick raised his head. "Is there any... well, any motive to this whole thing? I just can't understand how it makes sense!"
Dr. Lang raised his hand. "Yes, Commander Hunter," he said, in a deep and heavily accented voice. "I believe that's my field. It's a long story, however... and it's more believable with a few visual aids."
"This meeting has gone long enough," said Breetai. "I think we all deserve some rest, especially these fine soldiers here. Doctor, would you mind continuing your half of the meeting at a later time?"
"Of course," Dr. Lang nodded. "As I said, I'll need a little time to get things ready."
Breetai stood, and the rest of the room followed suit. He dismissed the miniature council. Admiral Reeve and Doctor Lang stepped forward to greet the soldiers, and Breetai stood back.
"You men are a real credit to the Global Defense," said Reeve, shaking each pilot's hand. "You'll all be decorated for your actions. I realize that doesn't mean too much right now. But you should all be proud of what you accomplished."
They thanked the admiral and saluted sharply. Doctor Lang approached next, but he addressed only Rick. "It's good to see you again, Hunter," he said. Doctor Lang was the only person Rick knew capable of a serious smile.
"You too, Doc!" said Rick. "Say, don't things usually blow up when you're around?"
The doctor smiled wider. "Indeed! I suppose it's my trade, no? Well, you're not too far off this time around, either. But I swear, I had nothing to do with it."
"Sever's motive?" asked Rick.
"That's right. When a military leader commits a crime, the motive is always power." Doctor Lang was fired with enthusiasm. "Hunter, there are things on this ship that you have to see."
"I can't wait," said Rick. "This one's a little too personal to let go. I want to know everything."
Lang chuckled as he walked off. "So do I, Hunter. I'll call you when my case is ready."
Joons poked Rick on the shoulder. "Excuse me, sir..."
Rick turned around. Breetai was standing beside the table, towering over the pilots. His powerful arms were folded at his chest.
Martinez slowly leaned toward Rick. "I think he wants us to leave," he whispered.
Rick laughed. "Why, did he say so?"
"No, but I'm leaving anyway!" Martinez saluted and quickly shuffled out the door.
Joons shook his head, laughing. "I'll catch up with you later." He turned and saluted Breetai. "Sir!"
The giant Zentraedi nodded his head slightly, and a rather unnerved Joons left for the door.
Breetai lowered his hands, and grinned widely at Rick. "It appears I still have it," he said. "It is good to see you, old friend."
"You too," Rick smiled, shaking the admiral's hand. "This has been a rough go, to say the least. I'm happy to see some familiar faces around."
"War takes its toll on a man," said Breetai.
"It sure isn't the life I asked for," said Rick. "Just when I think I'm getting used to things, I find out there's an admiral trying to kill me and make love to my..." He stopped short. "Um...eh, nevermind."
Breetai thought for a moment. "Ah, yes. Of course, Lisa Hayes. You are personally involved with the commander, then?"
"Well, I'm trying to be," said Rick. "But it's been stressful lately, with the Uprising heating up and all. I spend most of my time in the air."
The Zentraedi nodded his head. "Today's news must have been quite disconcerting, then."
"Yeah... you can say that again."
Breetai rubbed his chin with his armor-gloved hand. "Yes, now that you mention it...I do recall hearing about your relationship."
Rick blinked his eyes. "Wait...what do you mean, you've heard?" he laughed.
"Was there not a recent incident at the Echo landing strip?"
"Oh, great!" Rick shook his head. "Even aliens knows about us!"
Breetai chuckled deeply. "You are a lucky man. Her devotion to you seems unending. Have you seen her?"
"Excuse me?"
"Have you seen her, since you arrived?"
"She's here?" said Rick. "I thought she was at the base!"
"No, of course not. Lisa was brought to this ship as well. We met with her just before you arrived."
"I... I don't believe it!" Rick said, leaning against the table. "I've gotta find her! Is she all right?"
Breetai nodded. "She passed the physical examination. As for her psychological state, I am unclear. But judging from her appearance, she was very tired. I am sure she would enjoy seeing you."
"That's unbelievable!" said Rick.
"Oh? She would not enjoy seeing you, then?"
Rick looked up. "What? Oh! No, not that! It's just that... I didn't think I'd see her for...who knows how long!"
Breetai glanced at the wall clock. "I also have business to attend to. Admiral Reeve is meeting with me in a few minutes. I hope to see you and Miss Hayes before you leave."
"You too! And thank you, sir!" Rick saluted, and left the room. He ran full-tilt down the corridor, searching for an information terminal. Hang on, Lisa! I'll find you... but... what happens when I do?
The North Recreation Area was just one of the many places for soldiers aboard the Ultimatum to rest. It was a multi-level hall that combined an exercise room, cafeteria, and library, broken into separate rooms that wrapped around a central lounge area. The crew's quarters made up the surrounding walls, save a long, tall stretch that was composed of glass. Planet Earth hung in view, and the Ultimatum's repair craft hummed past in busy procession.
Rick stepped into the hall, in total dejection. He was still in his jumpsuit, dusted with sand from the early battle. His hair was matted down from his helmet. His eyes were barely open, and lined with dark creases from lack of sleep.
She's not in her quarters, he thought. She's not in any of the sickbays...thank goodness she's not in the psych ward! She isn't in the library, or the cafeteria...
He glanced around the lounge. The lights were dimmed, and the tables and booths were not occupied.
Check mate, he sighed inwardly. Lisa Hayes, either you're not on this ship, or you're running from me. And either way, I guess I'm not going to find you.
He sat down at a table, and banged his head against the surface. His forehead met with a magazine cover. It was the newest issue of Monument! magazine, with a front-page shot of Lynn Minmei. She posed fetchingly in a yellow bikini, her long black hair tossed around her shoulders. She held a microphone to her smiling face, and gazed widely at the camera.
And directly at Rick.
He growled and shoved the magazine off the table. His head fell again; this time, it met the wood surface with a dull crack. Much better, thought Rick. There's the headache I was looking for...
He opened his eyes, and saw the magazine on the floor. It made him gasp and turn away.
What are you afraid of? he asked himself. You've already beaten it. You learned your lesson. You don't love her. You don't even like her! She tried to command you, to ruin your life. You made a mistake, and you moved on! You fell head-over-heels in love with Lisa, and you've never been happier! So what's the big deal?
His thoughts turned to Lisa, smiling on the instrument panel of his Veritech. To the blazing wreckage of Cabe's fighter. To himself, on so many occasions, stumbling over his own words in Lisa's presence. To the Zentraedi soldier, standing over him in rage. And back again, to the image of Minmei on the cover.
Maybe I know what I'm afraid of, he sighed. I'm afraid of hurting her. She deserves so much better than all this. She's worked so hard... only to be disappointed, so many times. And so much of it was my fault... man, I was such a loser. Too confused to know what was really important. Too self-absorbed to know I was tearing her apart... Every time I fought with her... every time I blew her off to chase after Minmei...
I really am pathetic, he thought, and clapped his head on the table again.
"Oh my gosh! ...Hello? Is someone there?"
Rick snapped awake, at the sound of Lisa's voice. His tired eyes scanned over the hall. He found her at a booth next to the giant glass window, peering into the darkness with a worried face. She sighed, and dropped her head into her arms, slumped on the table.
Taking a deep breath, and rubbing his face awake, Rick stood up. He quietly stepped across the room. What am I going to do? Thank her for saving me? Apologize for what happened to her? ...For not being there? Tell her, "Yeah, I was a jerk before, but I'm crazy about you now!" Try to convince her she's not wasting her time? That it's enough... to love her now?
Apologize... for ruining her life...
He stopped at her table, and looked down at her. Lisa's uniform was creased and scratched. Her face was hidden in the cloth of her sleeves. She sobbed wearily, rocking her head in her arms.
Rick gently whispered her name. She breathed a cry, and looked up. Her hair was a tangled mess, and it covered her face. Tears streamed across her cheeks. She slowly gasped, and gazed into his eyes.
He choked on his own breath. His head spun painfully, looking for something to say. He failed, just as he had failed every time before. But Lisa's eyes searched for him, staring deeply with a care he had never felt with anyone else. Her gaze chilled him with nervous tension. But at the same time, he felt a strength that only she could provide.
"I'm sorry..." he whispered, and placed a shaking hand on her shoulder. "But I love you."
Lisa's tired face lightened, and she blinked away her tears, and smiled. With her arms reaching for him, she stood weakly, and he caught her halfway. Lisa closed her eyes, and kissed him. Rick froze in fear as he felt her form press against him, cradled in his arms.
She parted from the kiss, and blinked shyly. "Rick...we'll make it," she whispered softly. "We'll make it..."
He smiled, and looked back into her tired eyes. "I know we will," he said, and kissed her again.