Chapter 11: Get Your Hands Dirty

—February 11, 2018—
—23:01 GST—
Through the thick forests of the planet Gallaron, fifty recruits ran along two by two in formation towards what end they knew not what. The only sound from them was huffing and panting from near exhaustion, but the drill instructor at the back of the line could be heard loud and clear. "What the hell is the matter with you people! Move it! The damn war will be over by the time you get to the front you gut-sucking maggot pukes!" Sergeant Jefferson was shouting at the top of his lungs, but somehow he keept pace with the entire formation of youngsters in his camp without even breaking a sweat. A start contrast to the recruits who were dying on their feet; in Gallaron's heavy gravity the smallest of them weighed over two hundred pounds. They'd been running for what seemed like hours, half of them could no longer feel their legs but kept at it for fear of falling and being trampled by the people behind them.

Ensign Rollins had been given a sample of this treatment in his R.O.T.C. training, but the current exercise pushed him to his limits. The air had turned to soup, just breathing was getting harder and harder until he could swear he was drowning. Then, finally, the group of them came within sight of the objective, a large square building with an open roof that somehow he knew they would have to climb. "That must be the armory!" He said, wheezing from exertion.

Rollins caught movement out of the corner of his eye and reached down just in time to keep Minmei from falling. Both of them were covered in sweat and gasping for air in Gallaron's high gravity. "It's... so... far...!" she said, panting desperately at the point of collapse.

Jefferson seemed to notice Rollins and Minmei slowing pace, and immediately his voice exploded like a loudspeaker. "Hey Pop Star, you're breakin my heart! Pickup you goddamn feet! Rollins, keep that bitch up to pace or you'll both start over!" Needing little other encouragement, both of them picked up the pace and ran faster. "You think that satisfies me you worthless sack of shit! Get to that obstacle before I count to five or we'll all start this damn course again from the beginning! ONE!" Minmei and Rollins surged to a sprint. "TWO!" They both ran faster. "THREE!" They passed six pairs of recruits in two seconds and started to close in on the building. "FOUR!" Rollins lost his footing and fell, and Minmei started dragging him along until he got back up to speed. "FIVE!" Too tired to slow themselves down, both of them arrived at the building still in a full sprint, and both of them crashed head first into the cement wall and rolled backwards for a few feet, totally unconscious. Jefferson trotted up to them while the other recruits started their climb, looked at them each for a few moments, then looked back down the path of the forest. "You get an A for effort, Pop Star..." He said under his breath. "MEDIC!"

—February 20, 2018—
—07:50 GST—
Doctor Varcus flipped through the assortment of photographs in the folder and the sheets of data from the magnetometer, putting it all together in a mental image he could manipulate freely in his own mind's eye. Dumo Hinago's experience with modern archeological technique and scientific equipment was elementary at best, but just from the level of detail in his report Varcus could tell this man leaning anxiously over his desk could far outclass even the most seasoned Terran archeologist any day of the week. "This is all very interesting," Varcus said, going through the photos again, "How deep is it, you say?"

"It's about a hundred meters beneath the bedrock, and only fifteen miles south of Megaroad City. You can see the density variations in a set radius around the object, and the sedimentary displacement which seems to indicate—"

"It was buried there," Varcus finished, "Deliberately." He put the last photo back in the folder and leaned back in his chair, turning the image in his mind, "What exactly is it?"

"We know it's some kind of device, some ancient lost technology. We've already excavated part of it, the protrusion here..." Hinago pointed to one of the photos, "... just above the the bedrock. We can't get any deeper with the equipment we have, but from what we've unearthed so far we've learned a great deal."

"As indicated in your report," Varcus said, "However, Dumo, you know as well as anyone else that scientific projects like archeological digs are the jurisdiction of the Elders Council, particularly the Academics Committee. You wouldn't be asking the military for help unless the Committee had already rejected your proposal... I'm in hot water with the Elders as is, I'm in no position to go behind their back and start funding controversial research."

Hinago found Varcus' perceptiveness strangely alarming, not to mention inconvenient. "The Committee is bound by religious dogmas and scientific convention. They don't accept the facts when they're staring them right in the face."

"You and I may have our problems with them, Dumo, but they are elected officials of this government. We can't simply override them because we disagree on..."

"Just so you understand what's at stake here," Hinago took a step back and cleared his throat, "Mind you this is only mythology... the ancient race that used to inhabit this area called the Kalatumi have a collection of writings called the Jaren Scriptures."

Varcus nodded, "I've heard of it. Dumokai Verten opens every council meeting with a verse from those books."

"For the layperson it's mainly just a liturgy. It hasn't been a practiced religion among commoners for over a thousand years... except for the light dances, but they've been blended into folk traditions since then."

"Fascinating. I'm a busy man, Dumo, so please make your point."

Hinago took a deep breath and lowered his voice dramatically, "According to the Jaren Scriptures it says that our people originally came to this world from the heavens, along with our servants, a race of slaves that were used to build the first societies. Over time our treatment of the slave class become more and more violent and oppressive, and the gods heard the cries of the slaves and sent a warrior named Sakelcha to punish the masters... long story short, the slaves were freed and before long they turned on their masters and slaughtered every one of them, then they left this world and returned to heaven. The patron goddess was called Sajana, and when she saw the death of her people she performed a mystical dance that could restore the life of the entire world. She danced for over a year until all those who had been killed in the slave revolt were brought back to life, then she died from exertion. That's where the light dancers originally come from, it symbolizes Sajana's sacrifice."

Varcus grinned, "It would seem there's more to the story than simply mythos."

"Perhaps," Hinago leaned forward slightly, "The standard interpretation of the scripture is that the Zentradi are the descendents of the escaped slaves. This has been the stance of the Elders Council for nearly three hundred years, ever since we first learned of the existence of the Zentradi. But going through the archives of your people, I found something rather interesting..."

Varcus took a stab in the dark, "That Sakelcha is etymologically linked to the word Si'kaalcha, one of the oldest and most popular Zentradi war gods."

Hinago nodded, "Well that too, but one other thing."

Varcus took another guess, this one a bit more tantalizing, "That the oldest battle orders in the Zentradi archives are a command supposedly from Si'kaalcha ordering the Zentradi to avoid interferening with micron planets at all cost. Furthermore, Zentradi battle records go back over half a million years... whoever it is that created us was long gone by the time your people reached Gallaron.."

"Precisely." Hinago grinned, "Mr. Varcus, when you compare the scriptural account with Zetradi archives and what we know from our own experiences, as well as comparing the account in the Jaren Scriptures with other mythology around the world, I believe this tale might be a reversal of the truth."

"Reversal?"

"I think that our descendents were the slaves, not the masters. And it was Sajana, not Sakelcha, that freed us. I believe this because I've seen that some of the thun-utomisu techniques can be used to restore the higher brain functions of recovered Supervision Army soldiers."

Varcus frowned, "We don't really even know how the light dances work, only that they do. This theory of yours is bordering on a religious interpretation."

"But they do work," Hinago said, "And the interesting thing is what they work for. I have reason to believe that our ancestors who populated this planet may have been liberated from the Supervision Army itself. It would explain so much about our history, the fact that so many of our cities are built on top of massively complicated underground networks that at one time might have been military outposts. Also, the sheer number of wrecked space craft dotting the surface of this planet, even the light dances themselves—"

"Now hold on, Dumo," Varcus leaned forward, his eyes widened slightly, "That's why you're coming to me with this, isn't it? Your theory is...?"

"The Protocran race is descended from a group of Supervision Army deserters," Hinago said gravely, "And this object I found buried on this plateau might have some clue as to how we were freed from them twelve thousand years ago, and perhaps even who was responsible for it. And if we can unlock that secret, it should be possible to liberate all the others as well, not just our own captured comrades, but the entire Supervision Army itself. The war could end practically overnight."

"What makes you think this object has anything to do with it? It might be an old Zentradi artifact."

"The fact that it was deliberately buried gives us an excellent measurement on sedimentary layers, as well as a nice solid fix on the radiometric and astral-flux dating systems of the soil covering it. All of them confirm that the object was buried there about twelve thousand years ago."

Varcus nodded, finally understanding. "I'll put my neck on the line for you, Dumo," he opened a drawer in his desk and fished for the appropriate paperwork, "I'll assign you a company from Army Corp of Engineers to help with the dig—officially this is to be treated as a purely military operation. My people will follow your orders as best they can, but if anyone asks you are there only as an observer."

Hinago bowed slightly, and marched out of Varcus' office seemingly with a sense of renewed confidence. Descended from Supervision Army deserters, Varcus thought as he left, grappling with the concept of it himself even without touching the social implications that came with it, If his theory is correct, there may be a very long road ahead of us.

—February 21, 2018—
—16:40 GST—
Captain Elensh wiped the blood off her forehead, struggled back to her feet, sidestepped the small electrical fire burning on the deck in the center of the bridge and rushed to the front of the room in rage. "Susan, I want that son of a bitch off my screens right now!"

"Main cannon firing sir..." Lieutenant Merrick pushed the leaver and the main cannon discharged once again, striking the energy barrier around Jinai's command ship four-thousand kilometers away. Once again, the cannon failed to fully penetrate the shield, but the wash of energy ripped up armor plating along the left side of the ship as it moved to cover the transport ships behind it. Jinai seemed to take this rather personally, answering back with a barrage of missiles and cannon fire that almost turned Imura's hair white even before it hit. Susan switched on the ships reflex barrier an instant before thousands of megatons of nuclear energy would have slammed into the hull.

Once again, Imura lost her balance and fell, forward this time, crashing against the railing between the two ops consoles with a sickening crunch and a sudden shortness of breath that told her at least one of her ribs was broken. "Goddammit... Mia, how many more!"

"Fighter wings can't get through! Enemy pods are blocking their advance! It looks like Jinai was expecting this sir!"

Imura ground her teeth and and patted her broken ribs with one hand. "How can he fight off ten ships with just one! This is ridiculous!"

"I guess it's just one of those days..." Mia said under her breath. Her comm channel started beeping after a moment and she answered the call signal on an open channel. "Sir, Captain Sekkai's signaling us from the Zjendiel... She's moving into attack position on the far side of that gas giant!"

"She's what! Dammit, I ordered that ship to the rear line! What the hell is...!"

Mia switched to a two-way channel. "Captain Sekkai, you've been given orders to..." she paused for a moment, then looked up slowly. "She's not listening, Captain."

"Damn that Sekkai!" Imura said in a low growl. "She carries on like she owns that damn ship!" A barrage of heavy laser fire from Jinai's battleship danced across Victory's pinpoint barriers, failing once again to bite into the ship's armored hull. "I'll deal with her later. For now, tell Zjendiel to take up firing position and lock on to those tankers! We have to bring those things down before they fold again!"

"Sending sir..." Another short pause, then Mia looked up with an annoyed look on her face. "Sir, the Zjendiel is ordering the gunners to target Jinai's battleship. She's saying it's a tactical liability to—"

"Shit!" Imura had had enough; she picked up a headset from Mia's console and clicked it to the right channel. "Sekkai, this is Captain Elensh calling from the flagship! I am in command of this battle group and like it or not, the SDG-01 is included in that outfit! Your insistence on compromising the chain of command is endangering the lives of thousands of my combat personnel, and unless you cease and desist from being a pain in the ass I will blow you out of the sky along with that superdimensional garbage-scow you're so proud of! Do you understand me!"

The only response was a muted "I understand." From Sekkai before she closed the channel. But Imura looked at the tactical display to see that instead of complying with the orders, SDG-01 was firing its engines and making maneuvers again. It quickly changed into battle mode and began lowering altitude, "Dammit, now what?" She said to herself.

Lieutenant Merrick read the data for a few moments before she really understood what was happening. "She's entering the atmosphere sir... I think she's trying some kind of aero-braking maneuver!"

Imura actually left her chair and leaned over the railing of the command bridge, "With a ship that size? Can they... is that even possible?"

Mia zoomed the main monitor onto an image of the gas giant bellow them; one massive fireball was just beginning to appear over the horizon, dipping lower and lower as it passed through on the way to rendezvous with the fleet. "Shikari could probably pull that off... but Sekkai's still green! She has no idea what she's doing!"

Just looking at the angle of the ship, Imura could tell she was dipping much too low for this maneuver to work. On the other hand, she suddenly experienced and explosion of admiration for the woman just for having tried it. "Gutsy maneuver. Stupid, but gutsy."

Imura heard a voice over the radio, the last voice she expected to hear with the last message she expected him to have. "This is Thug Zero to all units, we've got a hole! Say again, we've got a hole! Khaki, Bone and Iron Chief squadrons move in to pry it open! E-Valk wing, get a move on!"

"Chan made it through?" Imura said in amazement. Another burst of laser fire hit the pinpoint barriers and send a shudder running through the deck, but for some reason Imura didn't even notice. Hm... Maybe I sold him a little short? She looked over Mia's shoulder at the fighter situation just to see it for herself. Twenty minutes ago the fighters and powered armors were regrouping for another charge, and now Kai Chan's marines seemed to be slapping the enemy around like mechanical children. "Tell Thug Battalion to move in on the ships to the rear of the line. Zjendiel will target the ones in the front."

"Yes sir," Mia had only just sent the message to the powered armors when the blast of energy surged out from beneath the cloud layer of the gas giant, crossing almost ten-thousand kilometers to strike the first tanker vessel amidships and splitting it in two with the first shot. "She's not even out of the brake yet and she's already firing!" Mia said, impressed.

"That Sekkai's got some kind of death wish." Imura chuckled. "On my signal, have all ships commence a full missile barrage on that battleship. We need to draw their fire so the marines can finish the job."

"Yes ma'am!" Susan armed all twelve of the ships reaction missiles at once and red lighted the other ten ships in the group as well. Jinai's ship would be blasted by a man-made apocalypse literally at the touch of a button. "Missiles ready sir!" Susan said proudly.

Two more blasts fired off one after another, one of them hitting a tanker through its main engines, and the other hitting the storage tanks, splitting the vessel open like a giant tulip. Imura was satisfied with Gladiator's performance, but she knew it would not be easy fishing the ship back out of the gas giant's atmosphere IF it survived its aero-braking maneuver. "Alright, all ships begin missile bombardment!"

—March 3, 2018—
—07:40 GST—
Minmei was holding an ice pack against her forehead with one hand and trying to force food into her mouth with the other. All of the recruits smelled horrible; they'd been running almost all day and training all night. Half of them were asleep at the table, the other half were staring in a daze at the far wall with their brains too tired to think. Minmei's head was pounding so much she could barely hear her own thoughts, but in the time she'd been here she found it always helped to have friends. "Rollins," she said tiredly. "Why are they doing this to me?"

"They really are trying to kill us, you know," Rollins grumbled. "That was, what— four kilometer obstacle course, uphill, downhill, a two mile climb through the underground tunnels, two kilometer sprint through mud... that's it. I don't remember anything after the mud."

Minmei nodded. "I think I repressed the memories. And I never did make it over that wall. Sergeant Grendal took me down and chased me around with that baton for half an hour and then he made me do it again." She sighed and hung her nead, "And I didn't make it over the second time either."

Rollins actually fell asleep for just half a second, then snapped awake and nodded to her. "Neither did I. That thing's impossible to climb in this gravity. These boots weigh about five pounds each."

Two other recruits, a man named Fusé and a small woman who's name Minmei could never remember sat down across from them. "Hey you two, rumor has it we're starting weapons drills later today."

Everyone within earshot groaned loudly. "I don't know how to fire a damn gun!" Rollins complained. "That Jefferson's gonna stomp my ass into the ground!"

Minmei nodded. "I might as well wash out now. I'll just end up shooting myself in the foot. You think you could help me Fusé?"

Fusé sighed. "I'm a calculus teacher. What do I know about guns?"

Minmei chuckled, then held her head in pain. "I just figured you must get alot of threats. I mean, I would have shot my calculus teacher if I had a gun.

"Yeah, Anything to get out of that class." Rollins agreed.

"That's what everyone says. Anyway, what are you asking me for? Weren't you using rifles in that movie..."

"You mean Perigee?"

Fusé nodded, "Yeah, that's the one. Don't you remember anything from that?"

Minmei thought about it, but somehow it didn't seem the same. "We were using little cap guns and I'm sure they don't have anything like that here..."

And just like that, the door exploded open and Sergeant Jefferson burst into the room. "Cadets, you now have six minutes to finish your garbage! We've got weapons drills next so wash off those grimy paws of yours and don't get any filth on my rifles!"

Everyone in the room who was still awake sounded off, "Sir, yes sir!"

—March 20, 2018—
—04:50 GST—
It wouldn't be at all accurate to say that Major Sutherland was the "new guy" in the Megaroad's bomber wing. To be sure he was a veteran of the Space War, an ace pilot with seven battleship kills under his belt, and by all accounts a damn fine cook. His two year hiatus from the battlefield could be attributed to the attack on ARMD-16 years ago, the doomed expedition sent by Macross UN Headquarters after the Megaroad colony mission abruptly stopped transmitting. One of Dr. Varcus' experimental treatments had revived him from a coma induced by severe energy draining by Supervision weapons, but over 70 of his fellow shipmates still remained comatose even to this day.

Goldfish squadron was the first to be reactivated, and at Glen Sutherland's own request for transfer to SDF-2, this was their fifth combat sortie of the war as part of Gallaron's Super Dimension Fleet. Through the scattered debris field he could see that the enemy battlepods were still oblivious to their presence, as was the small squadron of variable powered armors riding escort with them. So far, this ambush tactic looked as if it might go exactly to plan.

His radio finally burst from the silence, an encrypted channel from a few kilometers below him, "This is Goldfish-103, primary targets sighted!"

Sutherland turned his fighter in soldier mode to face the other VF-1F Electric Valkyrie, sticking its head through a hole in the gutted Zentradi carrier they had been hiding in. "Are they the ones the 2nd fleet warned us about?"

"I think so sir. It's a gunboat formation group, fourteen total, along with two destroyers, a single cruiser, a couple of couriers and tankers. The usual number of frigates, I'd guess twenty or thirty."

Glen moved to the back of the wreckage and looked over the other fighter's shoulder. "What do you think Ed?"

"Yeah, looks that way." Said Lieutenant Edward Magellan, Glen's WSO in the back seat of the cockpit. "The markings all line up. If it's not them then it's a crazy coincidence."

"Alright. Any sign of that uh... what's the name... Parankazu squadron?"

The number three fighter looked around again, and on Glen's monitor the pilot shook his head. "No sign of them sir. You don't think they got into some trouble do you?"

Glen had almost no experience dealing with protoculture soldiers and he wasn't exactly sure what motivated them, but as soldiers it stood to reason that they probably wouldn't be late for such an important joint operation unless they had some troubles of their own to take care of. On the other hand, they'd been briefed that this particular sect of fighters was almost completely unknown to Gallaron, and despite numerous attempts had refused all forms of communication until only a few days ago. "We can't afford to wait for them. Are the other units standing by?"

The E-Valk on the other side of the hulk with the signal light flashed a laser message to the other fighter squadrons hiding in other wrecks nearby and turned slightly. "The rest of the wing reports no problems. We count about three hundred bogies in their CAP."

"Let's make this quick." Glen said, more to himself than to anyone else.

"Who'd want to make it longer?" Ed said cynically. "We've got about a thirty minute window to nail those ships and make off with them before they can call support from the rest of the fleet. Even if we do disable the couriers they'll still be able to call for help."

"I know that, quit naggin me." Glen closed the faceplate on this helmet and pressurized the helmet. Next he did a radio check and signaled the other pilots over short range. "You know the drill, people. Master arm tactical nukes and verify your targets..." The pilots of Goldfish Squadron took a deep breath and felt their hearts start beating alittle harder. "Target main engines only. We'll get em in just once pass 'cause that's all we'll time for." Glen said, putting his gloves back on and checking the seals. "All other squadrons go on my signal. Remember, Captain Matheson's expecting our usual perfection so concentrate on your jobs."

"We're ready sir." Goldfish-102 called out.

"We're ready to bounce, Glen." Edward said in the back seat.

"Right..." Major Sutherland checked his arming switch and the thirty two tactical nuclear missiles on his wings. They were all armed and ready to fly. Even being reactive weapons, they were so small he had to fire a dozen of them up the tailpipe of those ships in order to destroy the engines, but the result would be a feedback that would fry the reflex furnaces like an egg. "This is Goldfish-100, wolfpack-blue! I repeat, wolfpack-blue!"

All the other squadrons responded to the signal and exploded out of their hiding places already at full afterburner. The surprised enemy pods hesitated for just a moment before a burst of laser fire and a spread of missiles from the Lighting squadrons in the lead started tearing into them. Fifty pods went down in a matter of seconds before the rest of the group started to react, but with the E-Valks holding their fire they managed to push past the fighter screen almost totally ignored. It was only when they started to close in on the enemy gunboats did they start taking fire from the enemy defensive guns, but Glen knew they wouldn't have to worry about the enemy's defenses as long as they kept moving in fighter mode. "This is Goldfish-100, split up and go for your targets!" Major Sutherland moved in behind one of the courier ships along with the number two and three planes from his squadron. If all went well, the targets would be immobilized in a matter of moments, and then the real trick would be avoiding the defensive fire from the disabled hulks and the escorting pods all around them. But then, that's what the protoculture squadrons were supposed to be doing...

"Here we go Ed! Stay frosty back there!" The target came into view; suddenly Glen had the perfect shot up the courier's tailpipe, and then Ed flipped up the final safety and put his finger over the release. "Goldfish leader, fox away!" Glen shouted. On command, Ed hit the release and fired three missiles into each of the nozzles of the first ship's engines, as did both of his wingmen that same instant. The missiles disappeared into the bright blue-white flares of the impulse drives, and then the flare turned orange and the engines quickly turned themselves inside out, belching up a fireball thousands of meters across. The three fighters barely managed to bank away from it before they were caught up in the blast themselves.

The same followed for the rest of the Supervision ships, one after another, first with the gunboats and the frigates until finally the fighters closed in on the battlecruiser itself. All but two of the enemy ships were now spitting fire and molten metal from their impulse drives like spaceborne volcanoes, but by now every battlepod in the system was doubling back to pick him off. This would be the hardest part of the mission... "Strike wing, break formation and get ahead of the pods! Fighter wing, open a retreat path!"

"We're doing the best we can, but there's alot of them and a few of us! It would help if you could knock out the hangars on those two destroyers before they launch any more!"

"Mecha hangars... time for another run, Ed?"

"Ready when you are!"

Glen banked sharply around a beam from a Glaug plasma cannon and dove in towards leading destroyer to get a missile lock. The hangars were right in front of him and his computer had a good tone on all of them, but before he could even pull the trigger a pair of frigates alongside it turned their pulse lasers in his direction and filled the sky with fire. The first barrage missed him by a barely half a meter, and he started barreling around in space to avoid them now. "Goddamn escorts!"

"Hold us still Glen, I can't lock on like this!"

"You damn well better!" Glen steadied his fighter in space and pointed the nose strait in towards the target. "Hurry up!"

"Almost there," Ed checked his target locks, crossed himself, and fired the last fourteen missiles into the destroyer's forward hull. The missiles slipped slammed into the hangar modules just as the hatches opened to launch more pods. The chorus of nuclear explosions crushed the armored hull in on itself. The damage was even greater than either of them anticipated; the hull began to collapse from bow to stern, and in moments the entire vessel ended its existence in a gigantic fireball. "Bullseye," Edward said smugly.

"This is Goldfish Leader, first destroyer is..."

"Major, check six!" One of the Lighting pilots called out.

Ed looked over his shoulder just in time to see the flashes of a plasma cannon passing over his canopy, and on instinct he cut in the afterburners and went into a high-G turn. The mecha behind him stayed right on his tail, which was a perfect indication of just what kind of ships they were. "There's three of em, and they're doggin us!"

"Shit! This is Goldfish leader, I've got three VAs on my tail! Gimme a hand here!"

"Splinter-507 to Goldfish, Gimme a few seconds, I'll be right there!"

Combat pilots have a pet peeve about depending on someone else for survival, of which Glen was no exception. But with two powered armors tailing him, there was little else he could do besides lean on the afterburners and start praying. "507, hurry up! We're taking fire!" His fighter jerked suddenly to one side and started spinning, and Glen could see in his peripheral vision the reason why. One of his super boosters was hit and trailing fire, tearing itself apart from the inside. "507 I'm hit! Where the hell are you!"

"I'm right on his tail, got missile lo—" Something behind the three armors exploded and the radio suddenly filled with static.

"Dammit Barnes..." Glen was down to his last option, one he didn't want to be trying in an E-Valk. He ejected the damaged booster pod just a moment before it exploded and transformed into soldier mode to do a quick about-face. All three armors pushed through the cloud of vapor from the blown booster pod and charged towards him with guns blazing; Glen drew his gunpod and locked onto the first one. "If you want something done right..." He fired a long burst, catching the first armor in the main body as it closed and destroying it almost immediately. "...you've got to do it yourself..." He fired at the second armor, but both of them changed into their fighter modes and charged towards him. "...your own damn way!" He fired his thrusters and tried to back away from the enemy pods before they could get any closer...

One brilliant beam of energy struck out from above him, instantly reducing the armor to a cloud of fire and molten metal. The other machine changed into soldier mode and took aim, only to be smashed into atoms by a second beam from the same location. Glen looked over his shoulder nervously to see a strange group of fighters approaching from behind the wreckage of a Zentradi destroyer, a type he recognized from the briefing a few hours earlier. Each one was the size of a standard GSDF shuttle, with a small main body in the center and two massive nacelles on either side housing both the engines and the energy cannons that appeared to be miniaturizations of the Macross's main gun. Glen was disappointed at their timing, but then he reminded himself they were better late than never. "Parankazu squadrons, this is Major Sutherland. Enemy ships have been disabled, but we're having trouble with enemy defensive mecha. We need fire support..."

"Yeah, of course, you need us to take care of the pods and the new fighters so you can secure the ship's interior, right? You see, this is what happens when you don't rely on professionals."

Glen was sure the message was coming through a computer translator, but he could still detect a note of disdain in the pilot's voice. In this situation, however, he was inclined to let it slide; the other fighters of the protoculture squadron had all opened fire and enemy mecha were being blasted to bits ten or twenty at a time. Something about it reminded him of the Rain of Death that had devastated Earth all those years ago, and yet seeing it in this context, there was something very comforting about it all...

"How we doin back there Ed?"

"Just dandy. I just wish I brought a change of underwear..."

"You and me both." Glen turned the fighter towards the courier ships in the rear of the formation and moved in with his one good booster. "Goldfish Squadron, objective achieved. Send word to the Megaroad and have them send over a marine squadron to finish the second phase of the operation."

—13:40 GST—
It could only be said that all of them were improving. Rollins was getting better grouping at this range, Fusé had stopped sneezing every time he pulled the trigger, and once her foot stopped hurting from her little mishap with the rifle several days before, Minmei managed to fire the rifle without hitting herself in the face with every recoil. By the time the swelling under her eye went down from that disastrous first attempt, she could actually put a bullet on part of the target about half the time, which for her was quite an accomplishment. Sergeant Jefferson stood over her disapprovingly from start to finish and scrutinized her performance with a pair of binoculars. "Jesus Christ, Pop Star! If you ever produced a bad album you'd be easy prey!"

"It's the best I can do sir." Minmei said gruffly.

Jefferson rolled his eyes. "Lady, you're gonna end up the only female on the damn ship who can't shoot strait."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Minmei looked up.

"Imura Elensh is gonna be your C.O, and she is notoriously chauvinist. Every woman under her command is supposed to be some kind of ace, and if they're not, Captain Elensh usually makes them train to be one. Some kind of old-school Zentradi thing, she doesn't believe in men being better officers than women."

Minmei knew Imura from before, she'd met her in the hospital after Misa's injury and had talked to her a few times since then. As it happened, she was also the only person who ever lived that Minmei was more afraid of than her deceased husband. She loaded another clip into the rifle, then took the clip out and loaded it the right way, then took the clip out again and loaded one that still had bullets in it, then took aim and tried again. Only every third shot came anywhere near the target, but Minmei reloaded again.

"By the way Pop Star," Jefferson said, "What're they payin you for all this?"

"Paying me, sir?" Minmei said. She fired off yet another poorly aimed shot over the horizon and felt the trigger seize up. She thought back to Jefferson's instructional from three days ago and realized that the feed bolt must have jammed. "What makes you think someone's paying me, sir?" She started to work the bolt free, but it didn't seem to be going anywhere.

"Sergeant Horace said you were doing all this to get ready for a new movie. We've had that alot lately, Scott King was here three weeks ago to get ready for some new action movie..."

"I'm not doing this for a movie, sir." Minmei picked up a small rock and started hammering at the bolt, trying to free up the jam. "During the last war I used songs on the Zentradi, maybe I can do it again on the Victory." She tapped the bolt harder with the rock; it slipped off the metal and nicked the side of her finger, turning her knuckle black and blue almost immediately. "Ow, geez!"

"I figured as much. Anyway, I wouldn't worry too much about guns and ammo, just stick to what you do best." Jefferson pulled out a field knife, grabbed the rifle, and in one quick movement he cleared the jam in the rifle and handed it back to her. "By the way, stop by my office tonight after chow time. I'd like to discuss something with you."

"Yes sir." Minmei looked at the rifle, wondering with some irritation just how in the world he managed to do that so quickly.

"Oh, and... bring a pen." Jefferson stood up to move on down the line and supervise the other recruits.

Minmei caught on to what he was trying to say and smiled. "How do you like that. I guess fans can come in all shapes and sizes..."

—May 2, 2018—
—22:45 GST—
Misa was nervous, but there was still hope. Suddenly regaining the use of her legs seemed like a blessing from the gods, but not nearly as much as the report Varcus had given her only a few hours hence. Two more Macbeth class cruisers, marked SDF-10 "Rikaan" and SDF-11 "Kaze" had been finished several weeks ahead of schedule thanks to the timely restoration of a section of the factory block. Both of those ships had been under construction right alongside the Macbeth, but both had been delayed due to a series of mechanical failures in the system. Though the GSDF still didn't have enough ships to form a fleet around these two command cruisers and couldn't realistically hope to for the next five months, it was very good news indeed. Another big gun cruiser, even by itself, would go a long way when the time finally did come.

What made her the most nervous was the fact that the time would come at all. It felt like a clock ticking in the back of her mind, and the race against it to find out what the enemy was hiding before it was too late. Hikaru had been a big help, working with her to sort out the tactical reports to help figure out where to focus the search, and he had even gone up on a few scouting missions (with Miko in the back seat no less) to help get a sense of what their fleet was up to, but when it was all said and done it came down to one last question: "What don't we know yet?" She said again, rubbing her head as if trying to push the answer into her scalp.

Hikaru and Misa had both been staring at the same action report for almost an hour, trying to tack some relevance to the data and figure out what, if anything it meant when the signal came in from SDF-2, relayed directly to Misa's office without even needing confirmation from the bridge. "Admiral Hayase, this is SDF-2 reporting on the Gassu-Delcaan operation."

Misa had been waiting for this. Out of all of their intelligence gathering missions, this one was the most important. "Did it work out?"

"Perfectly, Admiral. They responded to Victory's raid exactly the way you said they would. That scout unit didn't even see us coming."

Misa's fist grew so tight she almost punctured herself with her fingernails. "What did you find out?"

"Data from the courier's navigation computer indicate a route following vectors Z-plus two parsecs from where we captured it. Commander Ryder plotted it to a likely travel distance, assuming the Supervision Army has a base in this area. There are alot of stars in that area, but only four of them have planets: Borkay, Wukan, Kelksu, and Kaladan. We should probably search one of those four."

Hikaru looked at the systems Corina mentioned on a 3D chart and had the computer draw a sphere around the Wukan system eight light-years wide. "If they're trying to setup a base, they'll need a stable system with tolerable radiation levels. That means no neutron stars or anything..."

"Which rules out Kelksu," Corina said, having already looked over the data on her own charts. "Borkay and Wukan are close enough to search, but enemy activity doesn't seem to move towards Borkay."

Misa was trembling with anticipation. "I'll send Broli's fleet to investigate the Wukan system, but I really don't think that's where it is. It's probably around there somewhere so... Just to be sure, take the Victory in a search pattern through the systems in that area that don't have planets, just in case they're hiding something. Make a stop through Borkay on the way out."

"We'll fold immediately sir. But what about Kaladan? It's just close enough to be a candidate but it's too far to scout that area without enemy ships harassing us."

Misa thought about this, and suddenly it occurred to her that this was true for many more reasons than simple location. "We'll send Hallas's division to scout the system and see if anything's going on in there. The records show there's nothing terribly interesting about the Kaladan system but..."

"A hunch, I understand. We'll begin our patrol and stand by for orders, sir..." A man standing behind Corina came up behind her and whispered something in her ear. She listened for a moment, then nodded as if remembering. "Also, one of the border worlds on the lower frontier has finally opened communications with us. We've linked up with a squadron of raiders from their military, and they've asked to open a dialogue with our central government."

Hikaru raised a brow. There were only a few inhabited worlds that close to Gallaron, none of them with any real combative abilities but all of them—so far—willing allies with Gallaron in the fight against the Supervision Army. The Parankazu from the planet Suran had been one of the few who until now stubbornly refused to speak to anyone at any time. Twenty five light years separated their two planets—a fleet jump in cosmic terms. "Any idea what they want?"

"No idea. I talked to them a little bit, but they would like to speak with someone a little higher up. They don't have many warships, but lots of small fighters like miniature Macross cannons..." The man muttered something under his breath, and Corina laughed. "Major Sutherland here thinks these Suranians are a rowdy bunch. They're like Zentradi only with shorter tempers." Corina glanced over her shoulder at the Major and chuckled.

Misa stared at her suspiciously for a moment and decided to cut the conversation short. "You should... Tell them to proceed to Gallaron orbit and meet with Dr. Varcus for debriefing. Mean time, you get to your patrol."

"Right away sir." Corina saluted and closed the channel from that end.

Misa stared at the blank monitor for a few moments, then turned slightly and glanced at Hikaru. "Did you see that?"

"See what?" Hikaru said boredly.

Misa replayed the conversation in her mind and froze it on the moment Major Sutherland whispered to her. "He was flirting with her."

"Who?"

"Sutherland, her CAG officer. Didn't you see that... that look?"

"What look?" Hikaru said, suddenly growing tired.

"That look! It's that same transparent look all men have when they have only one thing on their mind. He was totally flirting with her!"

Hikaru shrugged. "So what? She's a young, healthy, attractive woman. It would be rude not to flirt with her." Misa turned her hear slowly and looked at him, showing him a very different kind of look. Hikaru felt like he was in freefall. "Uhhh... I mean... well almost."

"You would just flirt with her in the open like that?" She said slowly.

"Uhhh... Of course not, I have you to flirt with! But single men just put out a vibe sometimes, it's totally harmless, innocent little flirt between colleagues. You know how it is."

"I guess..." Hikaru breathed a sigh of relief, certain he had avoided the hot water he himself had stirred up. Misa still felt uneasy all the same. "I'll say this much, it had better be fully harmless and completely innocent. God only knows what kind of shit would hit the fan if Broli suspected his wife was cheating on him."

Hikaru sighed. "Good point, but you forget that when Zentradi get pissed, it's usually bodies hitting fan."

—May 22, 2018—
—19:50 GST—
Not surprisingly, the training bridge of this ship was modeled precisely after the SDF-09 Victory, but being so small there was only a limited number of people they could fit into it at any given time. They broke the recruits down into groups of twelve and stuffed them all into the room to give them general briefings, with just enough room for them to take down all the information into notebooks to prepare for their final exams. "This is the standard control panel for the OTEC tactical computer system." Lieutenant Hartman, the Bridge Ops instructor was saying. "Generally, normal functions of navigation and maneuvering are handled from the navigation bridge one level bellow us, but in combat situations, the helm can be co-operated from this consol using simple computer commands. The only time they do this is when the mission requires some precision maneuvering, but even then most of the work is left up to the navigation bridge. Are you getting all this?" Lieutenant Hartman turned around to a dozen young recruits all scratching away on notebooks with pens, writing down everything he said word for word. He gave them a moment to catch up, then went on with the briefing. "In normal operation, this consol controls all functions of the ship's fixed offensive and defensive systems, but note that these systems are manually controlled by other departments within the control tower. The tactical officer's duty is to relay commands between the Captain and the various fire control stations around the ship quickly and clearly. You already have the procedure for radio communications from the notes we took yesterday in the operations bridge and the control rooms, now you can see why. The person standing here in the front right console on the bridge is your direct superior, and he's responsible for everything you do and everything that happens to you. Make your radio calls clear and brief, and whatever happens, do not piss this person off."

Minmei wrote down all those notes and underlined the last sentence. "What happens if we do piss him off?" She said innocently.

Hartman nodded at the question. "Like I said yesterday, only way to anger your superiors is to not follow procedures, which leads to mistakes, which results in your ship being blown out of the sky with all hands. So basically, if you do something to piss off your tactical officer you probably won't live long enough to get chewed out."

"Right, thanks." Minmei jotted down the rest of the notes as Hartman moved on the first officers station.

"Get to know the ship's exec, because if you hear her voice on your radio then you know something important's about to happen. The first officer is basically the co-captain of the ship, but she'll also be the voice and the ears of the ship. You hear anything from her, you can be it probably comes straight down from the Captain."

"How do you know it's a woman?" Someone said from the back of the room.

"Victory's first officer is meltran former ace pilot named Mia Gouraz. The only other person on the ship with more combat experience is Captain Elensh herself, so keep her happy as well. It's not as critical as the tactical officer, but believe me you'll be alot happier if you can get on her good side."