Robotech: The Ashes of Empire

by GVincent

The Robotech Masters have abandoned their control of empire, their war with The Invid, and the slave Zentraedi forces still fighting it in an attempt to capture Zor's Battle Fortress directly. In this sudden power vacuum, a rogue leader from a caste of Zentraedi whose function is to enforce the will of The Masters on the warrior caste will attempt to seize power and rule herself.

8. Chapter 8: Commencement

Chapter Eight

Commencement

"Unambiguous alternatives are very much binary logic thinly veiled in tangible scenarios, but the nature of the logic remains. 0 or 1, yes or no- two distinct options whose ramifications in their choosing are equally different.

Rarely are alternatives so polarized, and less frequently are the ones deciding issues of importance.

However, we now have two such alternatives in the matter between The Robotech Masters and ourselves.

Victory, or death.

Making the decision is simple. The execution and all the details therein are somewhat more complex. I am confident though that the binary quality of the conflict we are initiating- the stark alternatives of outcome from which we have to choose- will have a motivating effect on our officers and warriors alike."

Sub-General Caldettas

Executive Officer,

7th Grand Army of the

Te'Dak Tohl

Transport 4825

Spacefold was a technological wonder without which interstellar travel would have been impractical if not impossible.

As true as this was, the means by which unimaginable distances were compressed had no effect on the all-too-perceivable sense of time. Almost paradoxically, a ship making the step across the gulf of hyperspace between two points with many of its systems powered down and its required crew activities reduced to a handful- time seemed to become elongated.

This was not to say that a minute clocked on a ship's chronometer as it traveled through hyperspace was any measurable increment longer or shorter than a minute clocked in realspace. As the principles of quantum physics did not apply in hyperspace (save within the bubble that a ship created for itself during spacefold transit) there was not the phenomenon of time dilation as experienced by an object approaching the speed of light in realspace, and therefore no quantifiable distortion of time.

There was though the perception of time distortion, of time elongation that made the passing of time during spacefold seem longer.

Of any of the types of vessel in the Zentraedi fleet, the transport support ships were best equipped to counter the perception of creeping time for their living cargo- the bulk of any Zentraedi army's dedicated ground forces. More like the facilities of a Robotech Automated Factory than of a warship of the line, the transports' amenities were geared toward maintaining the combat readiness of a larger complement with its numerous fitness centers, sparring arenas, and simulators. Warriors who were not being transported like dormant biological stores in stasis tubes had much time and little to do but dedicate themselves to the activities supported by the transports' facilities. While this had the effect of maintaining a viable and potent combat force, it was as much for preserving the sanity of these transport-bound warriors who served no shipboard function that the transports and their distractions were so designed.

Time dragged during spacefold, and time particularly dragged when anticipation of action was greatest.

Time had been dragging for Lieutenant Marosa for a day and a half now that had felt to her like a full lifetime and a half.

Compounding the restlessness that came with anticipation of battle was the quartering conditions that Marosa and the other Quadranos of Point Lieutenant Tuissant's command had found themselves subjected to. Their barracks compartment- a spacious one by the standards applied to the berthing areas provided for the warrior grades- had been clearly designed and appointed for officers in a company's number.

Three companies had been assigned to reside together in this particular compartment for the three days it would take to ferry the combined armies of the 604th and 417th to Murhan-Thade 4.

No Zentraedi ever expected luxury in any aspect of life, and Quadranos felt themselves on the whole to be more capable of dealing with hardship than any other class of warrior, but Marosa was concerned that she was approaching the end of what she could endure.

At the same time Marosa considered herself fortunate in that she had a single bunk that she shared with Etmal in a workable head-to-toe sleeping configuration when sleep could be achieved. Others were not as fortunate- the bunk space having filled quickly, the balance of officers had been left to sleep on bed rolls in the aisles between stacks of bunks.

This arrangement was a common sight in the barracks compartments designed especially to berth great numbers of Zentraedi, and oddly had become common in spaces of the ship that had not. Contributing significantly to the discomfort of this journey was the fact that the transports' various facilities had all been converted into makeshift barracks with the spill-over of embarked warriors, negating the possibility that they could perform their true functions for the forces that they were intended to serve.

So complete and extreme had the conversion of every usable space into a berthing area been that even the ship's mess rooms had been reduced to walk-through service as the tables and benches provided now served as bunks for warriors in rotating sleep shifts. Fitness maintenance facilities no longer had room for warriors to exercise, nor could warriors spar in arenas choked with comrades on bedrolls.

All there was to do was to lay idle sharing personal space, and to wait.

Still, as Marosa found her self shuffled into a stack of barracks bunks six high, she considered herself fortunate for being berthed in a compartment designed for that function. Even in cohabitating in a single bunk with Etmal, she was still not left as many other officers and warriors were, laying about the decks like the wounded after a battle. Given these conditions, Marosa even felt guarded about enjoying too much the simple pleasure of laying flat on her back to occupy the whole bunk as she was now- Etmal having slipped away some time earlier without explanation for her leaving or a word as to when she would return.

Perhaps she needed space too. In truth, Marosa didn't care- for whatever time the bliss would last, the bunk was hers alone- a normally trivial matter suddenly elevated to one of great importance.

"Marosa.", came Etmal's familiar voice with an urgent nudge, "Are you awake?"

"If I wasn't before, I am now.", Marosa said rolling onto her side to face her fellow Quadrano. If Etmal wanted back into the bunk, she was going to have to ask for it. Ground surrendered was never as easily reclaimed, and rightfully so.

Something in Etmal's twitchy appearance told Marosa that the junior lieutenant's paranoia-fueled, active imagination had been aroused. It didn't surprise Marosa that it had happened so much as it surprised her that it had taken Etmal so long to find a trigger for this response. It might have been that there was little to latch onto when confined to a bunk for the bulk of the hours in a day- but Marosa had confidence in Etmal's skill at finding fodder for her suspicions and that confidence was now being justified.

Etmal leaned into the confined space between their bunk and the one above it, seeking some false sense of privacy as she spoke. A half dozen sets of ears were within an arm's length, but in such confined spaces warriors quickly became adept at withdrawing into their own heads. Generally no notice was taken of the conversations of others unless they disturbed those around them.

"There's something wrong here that I need to show you."

"Just one thing?", Marosa groaned realizing that Etmal was implying that she needed to move from the bunk. There was a legitimate fear that if not occupied by at least one body, she and Etmal might come back to find the bunk claimed by one or more of the officers who had been forced to sleep on the deck. The respect shown for Quadranos garnered some favor, but could only be expected to go so far.

Although Marosa's first inclination was toward annoyance, she could not recall without effort the last time she had left her bunk. A change in surroundings would be welcome even if it was trading one overcrowded space for another, and Etmal's wild suppositions would be a small price to pay to stretch muscles tightening with inactivity. The chance of losing their bunk gave her pause more than any other consideration, but Marosa knew that of any of her unit Etmal was likely the most cognizant of that risk. If Etmal was willing to brave that possibility then what she had to share was more than her normal paranoia.

"Okay, let me get Vala too.", Marosa said, slipping sideways out of the bunk and dropping to the deck beside a soundly slumbering lieutenant in the narrow path between rows of bunks. The Quadrano who Marosa did not recognize stirred slightly, but made no indication of waking. At least there was one warrior Marosa could count on to not steal her coveted bunk space.

"No, not yet.", Etmal said, showing some hesitation, "Just you first. If you think being stacked in here like supply crates has driven me over the edge, then fine. See what I have to show you first, and then if you think I'm not loopy then tell Vala and the others."

"I'd be worried if being stacked in here like storage crates hadn't made you a little crazy, Etmal.", Marosa confessed as she followed the junior lieutenant along the aisle to the barracks compartment door, stepping over and around dozing or merely idle bodies, and out into the corridor.

The scene in the passageway was much the same. Bedrolls were laid perpendicular to the bulkheads on either side of the passage with no measurable space between. Warriors either slept, feigned sleep, or played at familiar games of chance that had been improvised to soften some of the tedium common to the time passed between actions. Gazes of mild interest passed over the two Quadranos as they navigated the path between mats on the deck. There was no genuine interest in the attention given to Marosa and Etmal, their activity being only a welcome if not small distraction from boredom to those watching them in passing.

"It started to work at me last night after the evening meal.", Etmal said quietly as she led Marosa through the warrior-crammed passage, away from the barracks toward a proximal hangar and storage area.

True to Zentraedi ingenuity for making use of what was available, a warrior had affixed standard cargo netting used to lash small crates to the deck or pallets to the corridor framing and was now sleeping in apparent comfort suspended over her comrades on the deck. The idea had clearly caught on as other improvised hammocks could be seen and were occupied along the length of the passage.

"I know what you mean.", Marosa said putting her hand to her stomach, "It's bad enough that the Invid will be waiting to kill us, you'd think the Te'Dak Tohl would have the decency not to help them get an early start with a malfunctioning nutrient processor."

"That's not what I mean, but close- kind of-.", Etmal said, "Being cramped up in that bunk got me to thinking about this whole operation."

"What about it in particular?", Marosa asked as Etmal steered her to a door that opened into one of the transport's hangars.

Etmal stepped through first, then stood aside for Marosa who entered without comment. It was clear that something within the expansive compartment tied in to Etmal's new conspiracy theory, and she could be counted on to explain herself even if the explanation didn't always make sense. Besides, the walking was already loosening up stiff muscles and Marosa was in no hurry to return to the bunk.

The cavernous dimensions of the hanger seemed offset in the dimmed lighting by the volume of mecha that had been assembled there. As the nearby berthing areas had been assigned to Quadrano units, most of the mecha standing idle on deck were Queadlunn-Rau combat suits, though Regult Pods of every configuration as well as officer's battle pods were readily seen in great density also. So numerous were the war machines that the quantity had well exceeded the hangar's intended capacity, leaving most mecha standing without benefit of storage anchorages. A clear violation of transport regulations, mecha were packed in with barely room for their pilots to reach them without climbing over others.

Marosa had seen this done before, but never quite to the extreme that the Te'Dak Tohl had achieved. The machines, unlike their pilots, had the benefit of not suffering the fatigue of close-quarters confinement and for this reason Marosa found herself oddly jealous of the dormant mecha before her.

"Remember when we were coming aboard?", Etmal said, beginning the intricate weave of her paranoia.

"Yes?"

"This hangar filled up, and we still had warriors who needed to bring their mecha aboard, right?"

"Right. Go on."

"So where'd they go?"

"The mecha?"

"Yes."

"They spilled over into other storage compartments."

"Right.", Etmal affirmed, "And you remember all of the crates coming off these transports as we were coming on?"

"Room had to be made for the mecha and warriors that were coming aboard.", Marosa said.

"But what was in those storage crates?", Etmal asked, anxiously driving at something that frustrated her with Marosa's inability to grasp.

"Uniforms, munitions, who knows-?", Marosa replied.

Understanding struck Marosa as the words slipped by her lips and struck her hard.

"Provisions.", Etmal said emphatically.

There was no need for Etmal to elaborate, Marosa had it now, but she did anyway.

"Medical supplies, body armor, weapons, field equipment, spare socks- whatever you can think of. Our own warriors unloaded it all and left it on the docks back at The Factory. I've been into ten, maybe fifteen storage compartments on this deck. If they're not jammed with mecha, they're packed with warriors, or both-."

"So where are the provisions to sustain this campaign? Our suits are loaded now, sure, but think- how long will a full weapons load last you in battle? We've got three days rations- where do we get food after that? Air to recharge the breathing systems? Not from this ship. We've got all consumers and no consumables aboard."

That terrifying moment that Marosa had always dreaded when Etmal actually made sense had finally arrived, but she found herself shaking her head, "No, they would have had to have thought of this. -On other transports maybe... Dedicated re-supply transports. Or maybe the supplies are stowed away on the warships? There's a whole fleet going into battle with us, Etmal, with two more to follow."

"Are there?", Etmal asked skeptically before flatly rejecting Marosa's suggestions, "Dedicated transports? I don't think so. Putting all of your supplies in concentration on a handful of ships is asking for disaster. All you need is to have Fate against you for a moment to lose those ships, and your entire invasion grinds to a halt. That's why these ships are built as they are, to spread out the responsibility of carrying the supplies needed to maintain an army in battle, you know that Marosa. And putting supplies onto warships? We've been stationed on Sihlak since our Awakenings and walked every deck. Where would you store provisions not intended for the ship and without interfering with the ship's combat effectiveness? You couldn't, not without cluttering the decks and the hangar bays."

"So where's our food and supplies, Marosa?"

Marosa was silent as she had no answer.

More than making sense, Etmal's paranoid argument was making chillingly logical sense insofar as being an argument. Marosa could find no way around the argument, but Etmal was yet to make a culminating point.

Still, there was something disquieting about the sum of accumulating facts.

Normally, an issue this grave would have been brought quickly to Point Lieutenant Tuissant's attention, but she was not here. Like the supplies that Etmal had alluded to, Tuissant had been left aboard the Trendok 145 Factory, her Quadrano unit having been transferred to the command of a Te'Dak Tohl officer whom Marosa and the others had yet to see. Even had they known where to find their surrogate commanding officer, Marosa suspected that she would have been hesitant to approach her with these concerns.

Suddenly the transport ship did not feel so crowded to Marosa. Just the opposite, she felt isolated.

Alone.

"We should talk to Vala and the other squadron leaders about this.", Marosa resolved. The situation was irregular, true- but like in combat, in the absence of Tuissant it fell upon the her subordinates in the chain of command to see to the well-being of the unit.

"We'll see what they think and then decide on what to do."

"They're going to look to you and Vala for a plan, Marosa.", Etmal pointed out, "You two have seniority."

"Don't remind me-.", Marosa said grimly, realizing that her options were limited.

"Hey!"

The sharp, commanding voice caused Marosa and Etmal both to flinch and was quickly followed with in the same tone, "What are you doing in here?"

Startled, Marosa and Etmal both whirled to find a pair of female Te'Dak Tohl standing in the doorway behind them. Both wore the rank of sub-lieutenants, and both carried assault rifles slung over their shoulders.

Armed sentries aboard ship while in spacefold were unheard of except for in very rare circumstances. The carrying of assault rifles was an excessive show of force in the absence of any plausible threat, regardless. This did not prevent Marosa from recognizing the insubordinate tone used by the Te'Dak Tohl warrior who had spoken however, and did not dissuade her from acting accordingly.

"-Lieutenant-.", Marosa said adding the correct acknowledgment of rank to the warrior's words as she clearly displayed her officer's insignia, "And we're making an inspection of our mecha, Sub-lieutenant.."

To Marosa's surprise, the sentry neither made an attempt at apology nor altered her caustic attitude in the slightest, "This compartment has been secured and is off limits until staging. Clear out or go on report, Lieutenant."

The unrepentant insubordination made Marosa instinctively want to set the warrior into her place, but she thought better of it as the two guards let their rifles slip from their shoulders and took them by the grips in a display that was just shy of overtly threatening. Their eyes both made challenge and an eager invitation for Marosa and Etmal to respond.

Etmal put her hand on Marosa's shoulder and said, "Come on, we were going anyway."

Marosa followed Etmal out of the compartment between the two sentries, though unlike her junior officer, she made a point of passing close enough to the senior guard to cause her to step back. She also passed close enough to hear a single word muttered under the sentry's breath.-

"Norghil…"

Destroyer 741

Pach stood at the center of the open airlock, one of many which connected his vessel to the Trendok 145 Factory by gangway tunnel, and looked out through the connective passage to the automated facility beyond.

Sub-Commander Dychi stood nearby, though not as brazenly in the open as his commander. On The Factory side of the gangway, six Te'Dak Tohl warriors in full body armor and weaponry stood guard, accompanied by two additional warriors in suits of power armor whose configuration was familiar to the Zentraedi officers only in its similarities to the Queadlunn-Rau combat suits of the Quadranos.

There had been neither announcement of an intent to post sentries by the Te'Dak Tohl, nor any attempt at explanation following. No orders had been issued restricting personnel to their vessels, but the implication was striking in its clarity.

Pach turned from the sentries who had noticed him studying them from his side of the gantry. There was a temptation to join Dychi out of sight to the side of the airlock, but Pach decided in favor of showing his indignation by simply giving the Te'Dak Tohl his back. Even if they had penned he and his crew in aboard Destroyer 741, it was still his vessel and Pach would not be driven to hide aboard his command.

"-And they're posted near all points of access?", Pach asked.

"Yes, Lord.", Dychi replied, "They took up those positions just under an hour ago. I have no idea of whether we are receiving special attention, or if this is common to the other vessels in spacedock."

"We'll assume for the moment that it's all vessels.", Pach asserted, "Not that it matters in any meaningful way. We're effectively cut off from the other commanders."

"We still have ship-to-ship communications.", Dychi advised, "Independent as well as through The Factory's network."

"And undoubtedly we're being monitored on both- even laser lamp exchanges can be intercepted if the third party is interested enough to make the effort..", Pach replied, "No, the only reliable method of discrete communication was by direct contact. Why cut us off now?"

"Perhaps it has something to do with Sub-Commander Gerrok's encounter.", suggested Dychi, "That's quite possible."

"I was considering that myself.", Pach agreed, "It's possible but improbable. I think that if the Te'Dak Tohl had reason to suspect one of us was responsible for the death of one of their own, they would do more than post sentries outside of our ship. Have we had any luck in decrypting the memory slate that Gerrok brought back with him?"

Dychi shook his head, "No, Lord. The encryption sequence is very complex. It will take some time, I fear. We are continuing to work the problem though."

"I would like to know the contents of that memory slate.", Pach said to his executive officer, "It may or may not have something to do with the restrictions the Te'Dak Tohl have imposed on our movements aboard The Factory, but that slate was important enough for one of my officers to be killed over it."

"If the contents are so important", Dychi speculated, "then why have they not come looking for it?"

"They must not know where to look.", Pach resolved, "The only link to us would have been Jerl. If he had been wearing a marking of unit affiliation, they would have come to us directly by now. I can only conclude he was not. So, the only course left to the Te'Dak Tohl was to lock down the entire facility."

"Gerrok could confirm or rebuke that theory, Lord.", Dychi observed.

"Gerrok is weak now and needs time to recover.", Pach countered, "If Jerl can be traced back to us, then there is little we can do about it."

"Along those lines, I would suggest we also check our records of how Jerl came into this command, Lord.", Dychi suggested, "If the Te'Dak Tohl were concerned enough about his identification to run his DNA profile through the personnel database-."

Pach nodded with understanding and completed his executive officer's thought, "-Then they might make the connection to us."

Dychi responded with hesitant optimism, "Assuming he was brought aboard in stasis and Awakened here, Lord. That would certainly link him to this ship. I suspect that as a specialist with technical conditioning, he was probably Awakened aboard a support ship, selected by Gerrok, and then transferred here. Often the crews of support ships consider their obligations to tracking warriors concluded when they become conscious, and Gerrok is somewhat lax in records-keeping, as it applies to personnel-."

"So we hope for negligence in bureaucratic duties to shield us from the wrath of the Te'Dak Tohl-.", Pach mused darkly, "Strange that it should come to that-. In truth, I am more concerned right now about records that Gerrok kept more diligently."

"Yes", Dychi agreed, "Gerrok's technical solution to the Te'Dak Tohl neutralization system will only be able to be spread as far as the units on the transport ships with our warriors. Not exactly the wide dissemination of information we were hoping for."

"There's no helping that now.", Pach said, "If Fate is generous to us, word will spread once they have landed. We will have a better perspective once we rejoin our own units."

Pach made his way along the hangar deck toward a more interior area of the ship, Dychi following close in his wake. Moments of silence passed between the two officers before Pach gave instruction, almost casually.

"Dychi, one by one I want all non-essential points of access between The Factory and ourselves to be closed off. Also, I want platoons of Regults stationed out of sight but proximal to all the access points that remain open. Assault rifles and side arms are to be issued to all personnel left aboard and are to be kept by the crew at all times."

"It will be done as you instruct, Lord.", Dychi said, "With our warriors transferred to the invasion force- we will be defending ourselves with ship's hands though."

Pach nodded, "I'm aware of that. If we should have to defend ourselves against the Te'Dak Tohl, and I hope to Zor that we don't, their best efforts will have to do."

"Yes, Lord."

"One more thing, Dychi."

"Yes, Lord?"

"Have my shuttle prepared.", Pach said.

"Where are you going, Lord?", Dychi asked.

"Destroyer 818.", Pach replied, "Then perhaps to the other commands in the squadron. I must speak with Sylas though."

"And Action Commander Gymalt?", Dychi inquired.

"His vessel is moored on the other end of the docking bay. I will make the attempt, but I stand a better chance of reaching Sylas."

"For what purpose?"

"Sharing information if nothing else.", Pach replied, "To let him know that The Exchange never received Gerrok's notes, and to form some kind of plan in case… Well, in case."

"I'll have your shuttle prepared and the ship's points of access secured, Lord.", Dychi complied, "May Fate be kind to you."

Pach corrected, "To us, Dychi. May Fate be kind to us."

Artoc

"General, we are approaching the designated severance point.", Sub-General Caldettas dutifully informed his superior, "All Factory assault units have acknowledged and stand ready to de-fold."

Krymina nodded her approval, replying, "Drop out of spacefold and transmit the synchronization signal to the embedded assault forces aboard the Trendok 145 per the operational plan timetable."

"Yes, General.", Caldettas said, motioning to the deck officer on the bridge below to proceed with the step that would lead into the next operational phase.

Krymina's personal ascent on these details was a formality- a necessary formality, but a formality nonetheless. Action officers, staff, and operational commanders all knew their parts in the plan as well as the sequence of actions they would have to execute to implement it. Still, there was process and procedure to follow which meant that the critical orders still needed to flow down from Krymina.

Caldettas suspected that the General, on a personal level, reserved a certain enjoyment in her participation at the command level. Long gone were the days when she would be expected or allowed to strap into a suit of power armor to actively engage an enemy. Giving the orders to trigger the actions in a plan was as close as she would ever come again, and Krymina seemed to be able to find some satisfaction in that.

"Any parting words for the norghil, Caldettas?", Krymina asked her chief lieutenant.

"None that would bring them any comfort.", Caldettas replied, "Though it does still seem something of a waste. Norghil or not, well seasoned warriors could have been useful to us in the future."

Krymina's face showed a brief moment of disapproval that was not perceived by Caldettas as he stood behind her command chair. They had been over this issue already and once resolved Krymina liked having issues stay resolved. This was as true for matters of differing opinion as it was for matters of decision or action.

Caldettas could be trusted to keep his opinions to himself in front of subordinates though, especially ones that did not fall precisely in line with Krymina's. Voicing a different perspective in private was merely a tolerable annoyance.

"Your sentimentality would be better applied to the field boots we'll be losing. They're as difficult to replace, and far less likely to complicate our campaign against Breetai for misplaced notions of loyalty."

"Still", Caldettas persisted, "New boots are at the prime of their utility, warriors take time to reach it. Our norghil army will function adequately- of that I am confident. You must admit though, even norghil are more complex than Regults in that the valued parts cannot be removed and transferred to another. The package must be accepted or discarded as a whole."

Admitting nothing, Krymina reluctantly agreed to the point, "If only it were not so."

The main viewscreen was suddenly washed clean of the blue haze of hyperspace, replaced by the star-dotted blackness of realspace. Without so much as a tremor, the flagship had emerged from spacefold.

The natural balance of the star field's appearance was marred almost immediately by waves of Te'Dak Tohl cruisers, moving by formation, and taking up position around the flagship in a predetermined order of attack. The new formation, once assembled, would be held until the assault on The Factory was initiated.

Not eager to leave a conversation on a contested point, Caldettas continued along a more optimistic line of discussion.

"If the Tirolians can deliver what they say- implanting Te'Dak Tohl basic combat knowledge into the gestating norghil now in stasis on The Factory, then that could provide us with sufficient advantage over whatever forces Breetai may be able to muster."

"Assuming the intelligence information retrieved from The Factory is still accurate, I agree.", Krymina said, "Have you reviewed it?"

With some embarrassment, Caldettas admitted, "I have had little time for more than a preliminary study of the information, General. Its volume is considerable, and I've been focused on our current operations."

"From what I have read", Krymina continued, "-The alien victory over Dolza was at best the greatest stroke of luck that I've heard of yet. The civilization was barely a space-going one prior to the arrival of Zor's Battle Fortress.- Certainly they were incapable of interstellar travel. Whatever technological sophistication they brought to bear in their brief conflict with the norghil was borrowed from The Masters. No, Caldettas, Dolza's defeat came by way of Breetai's treachery. This so called human involvement was coincidental."

Caldettas was silent for a moment, but then in true form countered without offense by saying, "Yes, though you must give the alien species some credit as to their adaptability. To be able to analyze, comprehend, and then apply even the basic principles of Robotechnology in the short span of time they were in possession of the Battle Fortress- that speaks well of them. And they were able to exploit the weaknesses of the norghil-. Given generations to evolve, they may have become worthy adversaries."

"Adaptability is an advantageous and desirable quality in any species.", Krymina conceded, "It's also a common trait in bacteria. I've read nothing to grant this species any more esteem- certainly no more consideration."

"Still, we should not underestimate them.", Caldettas warned, "Our intelligence is old, and the final reports are fragmented at best. There's no telling what more they have accomplished in deciphering Zor's sciences, especially as they have had Breetai's entire army and their equipment, to guide their studies."

"Prudently cautious as always, Caldettas.", Krymina praised without reservation, "But their most formidable weapon was the norghil's inexperience with any culture but their own. That weapon is useless against us. Our very nature has already taken down their strongest defense. What remains is Breetai. If they've leapt generations in knowledge of Robotechnology, they still lack experience in combat on the scale to which we're accustomed. Breetai is the key. To defeat him is to defeat them. Then we shall have what was rightfully ours from our conception."

"Breetai will not be easily defeated.", Caldettas said, "His skills and instinct in command of a battle are legendary, even amongst our warriors. They hardly require exaggeration, though his stature has become almost mythic."

Krymina said, unconcerned, "Legends and reputations are nothing more than matters of popular perception- broken more easily than created. Breetai's defeat will only make subjugation of rogue norghil factions easier in the future."

"And for that reason, you wish to meet Breetai in battle?"

"The more definitively the better.", Krymina resolved.

"Certainly, your prestige will benefit from such an accomplishment as well.", Caldettas pointed out.

From another officer, the observation might have sounded like a blatant challenge to Krymina's stated purpose, even a question of her true motives. From Caldettas it was easier to swallow as it provided Krymina with a perspective outside of ego. Still, wisely, Caldettas qualified the remark and steered wide of uncomfortable elements of unspoken truth-.

"-As you will require significant status to achieve the level of control you will need to yoke the scattered norghil and Te'Dak Tohl. To do so without the drain of constant battle on our forces, that is."

"It is demanded by history, Caldettas, that the issue of supremacy should be decided in this way. The Te'Dak Tohl or the norghil- only one can control the destiny of Zentraedi. Our way is self-determination and the continuance of Zentraedi expansion. Breetai, it would seem, is content to dilute the essence of his caste with the culture of these aliens. The norghil would be better served in serving us."

"Service is the foundation of their culture.", agreed Caldettas, "They have depth and capacity for little more. The aliens would have discovered this in time.- What name have they given themselves again?"

"Human."

The word felt odd and clumsy to Caldettas who repeated it internally several times.

"I wonder if it has a meaning?"

"If it does,", Krymina said, "then it will soon be a meaning devoid of form."

The Trendok 145 Robotech Automated Factory.

From the vantage point of the spacedock's massive interior, there was little if any indication that there was anything out of the ordinary in the conduct of the beings that the automated facility served. Repair and tender slips occupying every usable space along the immense chamber's interior surface were all filled and employed to their purpose with warships of every configuration. Still more Zentraedi vessels stood moored to slips around the circumference of four pillar-like structures that spanned the distance between the chamber ceiling and floor. In all, 240 vessels were being serviced in this port simultaneously by The Factory, and the same activity was occurring in three other bays identical in function and comparable in size to this one at other points constructed around the central core of the station.

The space doors to The Factory's docking bay stood agape and would have allowed for the ingress and egress of numerous warships concurrently. A subtle but distinct indication that something aboard the Trendok 145 was out of sorts, this flow of traffic had ceased.

Had the Robotech Factory been performing its function- had it been allowed to perform its function, Commander Pach speculated from his chair within the passenger cabin of his shuttle- then Destroyer 741 would be well into the process of preparing for departure. The Factory's maintenance droids had left his vessel well before he had elected to, and between his crew and parties of labor drones, a steady stream of provisions and munitions had been coming aboard Pach's ship and was as quickly being stowed in its storage spaces.

Orders to prepare for departure should have been given to Commander Pach to be passed on to his crew, but they had not. No orders of any kind had been received, except for those implied by the unexpected posting of Te'Dak Tohl guards outside of the ship- those orders being to stay in place and to maintain unquestioning discipline.

As his shuttle cleared the obstruction of one of the four docking pillars, the open space doors allowed Pach a quick glimpse of the stars beyond. Though framed by the threshold and channel of metal and rock, the sight of gem-like stars in their perfect black setting hinted at the familiar, limitless expanses beyond the relative confines of The Factory. The contrast made the technological oasis feel more restrictive, and the presence of the Te'Dak Tohl that much more ominous and oppressive.

Gone as well was the controlled sense of security that was Pach's aboard Destroyer 741, his ship having been lost from sight only minutes into the excursion. The only comfort enjoyed by Pach now was the blanket of anonymity, and the secrecy of his purpose as the shuttle passed swiftly by warships trapped in place by the obedience of their own officers and crews.

"Another patrol, Lord.", Pach's pilot noted from the left seat of the shuttle's cockpit, "On three-one-zero relative."

Pach rose from his seat in the rear and came forward to look around the pilot and out the left side of the cockpit windscreen. A flight of Te'Dak Tohl Fighter Pods was passing in the opposite direction at some range behind a battered destroyer that was moored parallel to the course of the commander's shuttle.

"That's four now.", Pach noted darkly, "They're patrolling this bay like it's a forward combat area. Tuck in closer to this destroyer; we'll use it to screen ourselves until we are closer to Sylas's ship."

"Yes, Lord.", obeyed the pilot, adjusting his course to draw nearer to the scarred flank of the warship standing in port, "I don't believe that they saw us."

A squawk sounded over the headsets worn by the pilot and the commander, indicating a communication's hail. Glancing over at the sensor display located in the control panel between the two seats, Pach saw clearly the two clusters of four blips rounding the stern of the destroyer and closing upon the shuttle's tail rapidly.

"They saw us.", Pach said grimly as the hailing squawk sounded again.

Much time spent behind the controls of a Gnerl Fighter Pod gave Pach instant and credible perspective on the reappearance of the patrol to his rear. His shuttle, lacking armaments of any kind and capable of only modest speed was prey that could be easily overtaken by the Te'Dak Tohl Gnerls. Closing from the rear they could easily assume and maintain "kill position", and once there assert their authority convincingly over the shuttle.

There was little choice in courses of action. Subterfuge was the best, and truly the only option.

Pach reached for the communications panel between the pilot and co-pilot and sent the reply signal, establishing a communications link with the flight leader.

"Attention transport shuttle, this is Patrol 412 Flight Leader… Identify yourself and state your destination."

The formation of Fighter Pods broke into pairs, two of which streaked by either side of the shuttle close enough to jar it in the wash of their pulse jets. The pilot looked nervously at the commander for a moment, but quickly returned his full attention to the task of flying the shuttle.

"I'll handle this.", Pach told the flight crew, opening the channel on his end, "Flight Leader, this is Transport Shuttle 2274, destination Destroyer 818 in mooring slip eighty-seven."

A long pause followed before the flight leader replied, "We show no authorization or logged flight plan for you. What is your business?"

Pach thought quickly, "Personnel transfer, Flight Leader. Several officers were aboard our base ship at the time The Factory was locked down. Destroyer 818 is nearing completion of repairs and replenishment and could be ordered to put out soon. The commander requires his full command staff."

Another pause followed, and then, "Be aware that the restrictions to movement extend to flights in docking bay spaces, Shuttle. Complete your personnel transfer and return directly to your base ship."

"Understood clearly, Flight Leader.", Pach replied, "Thank you."

"Your transponder code has been logged, Shuttle. Make your commander aware that he will receive an inquiry on this violation of standing orders."

"I will make sure that he is informed.", Pach said evenly.

The remaining fighters of the flight accelerated past the shuttle, forming up into two diamond clusters well ahead of the shuttle and vanishing below the destroyer they had been paralleling.

"Note to me", Pach said to the pilot, seeing that the channel between the shuttle and the fighter pods was secure, "I'll be getting a communiqué of inquiry about this."

The pilot snorted a grunting laugh and was again silent.

"Let's get to Destroyer 818 and hope that their landing officer clears us without too many questions.", Pach said hopefully, "We're undoubtedly being watched now."

"I'll steer a direct course then, Lord.", the pilot announced making the correction before Pach had a chance to approve or reject the plan, though it was the correct thing to do.

Commander Pach suddenly felt uneasy. It was not the challenge of the Te'Dak Tohl flight of fighters that he had talked his way through so much as the stark realization that if Sylas was still harboring malicious intent toward Gymalt and saw fit to regard Pach as an obstacle then he would be presented with an ideal opportunity to remove it soon.

Pach had known fully of this possibility and had set out for Sylas's command with no illusions, but now with the aroused interest of the Te'Dak Tohl fighter patrols it occurred to him that Sylas no longer had to act to remove him from his path to Gymalt- he simply had to deny him permission to land and allow the enforcers to react as their whims dictated.

"Lord, look-.", the pilot said, drawing Pach's attention outward again.

As the shuttle traversed the space between docking pillars, the unusual sight of warships standing idle free of mooring slips greeted the commander. Automated dockyard tugs stood nearby, ready to assist the half dozen destroyers in their maneuvers to leave spacedock, but at the moment hung equally motionless in space.

It wasn't the sight in general to which the pilot was calling the commander's attention, but the sight of one particular destroyer in the idle formation. A "Lot 500- Heavy" was distinguishable from the other Thuverl Salan Class vessels by its greater girth and breadth. A rare sight being a discontinued production line, it made the vessel that much more distinguishable to Pach.

"Lord, isn't that-?", the co-pilot began to ask. There was no need beyond conversation to confirm the identity of Action Commander Gymalt's Destroyer 1017 with Commander Pach- the ship's identification transponder did that clearly enough.

"Yes-.", Pach affirmed, his concern coming through clearly in his tone, "But why are the Te'Dak Tohl having them keep station here?"

Realizing the question to be a rhetorical one, neither the pilot nor the co-pilot made any attempt to answer it.

Rather, perhaps sensing Pach's concerns about Sylas, the pilot suggested, "Lord, we could alter our course again and be aboard Action Commander Gymalt's ship before the Te'Dak Tohl could return to intercept us."

Pach shook his head, "No-. No, we would still have to leave at some point to return to Destroyer 741 and they'd doubtless be waiting for us then. We're forced to rendezvous with Destroyer 818 I'm afraid. Reaching Gymalt directly always had long odds against it. This will make things more difficult."

Destroyer 818

Commander Sylas stood closer than the prudent would have advised as the unexpected visitor, a shuttle from Destroyer 741, ceased all forward motion and settled from a hover to the flight deck of his vessel.

From where he stood, he could see through the tint of the cockpit screens and identify Commander Pach who was looking back out at him.

Though unannounced calling by a command-level officer was unusual, especially considering the strained nature of he and Pach's relationship, Sylas was accustomed to the unorthodox from Destroyer 741's master. Sylas could easily imagine the peril Pach must have known he was exposing himself to in making the trip, so his purpose intrigued the commander of Destroyer 818 that much more.

The shuttle's gangway plank extended and lowered as the hatch opened, allowing the passenger of importance to disembark.

Sylas met Pach at the foot of the plank and motioned him aboard.

"Personnel transfer?", Sylas repeated, echoing the phrase passed on to him by a communications officer, "I take it that you're the personnel? Hopefully this isn't a lateral move you're intending- this ship has a commander."

"I intend nothing of the sort.", Pach assured him, "The transfer will be at most brief and temporary."

"The way the Te'Dak Tohl have The Factory buttoned up, it could be considerably less temporary than you think.", Sylas warned.

"Yes, we ran into elements of that in transit.", Pach agreed, "Though my story seems to have gained us passage here- and back, I hope.. I haven't much time though."

"We'll see that you have some names to put to your personnel.", Sylas obliged, "Now, the cleverness of your deception aside, what brings you here?"

"To share information and concerns."

"Ah-.", Sylas said, understanding, "The kind we can't speak of over monitored communication channels?"

"The same.", Pach said, "First, Gerrok was badly injured and his lieutenant killed while attempting to reach The Exchange-."

Sylas raised a finger, becoming immediately defensive, "I gave my oath, Pach, I had nothing to do with-."

Pach recognized genuine surprise in his peer at the news and shook his head. Sylas's reaction was reassuring though.

"No, the killer was Te'Dak Tohl."

"Te'Dak Tohl?", Sylas repeated, "Why?- Not that I'm surprised, but why?"

"For this, we think.", Pach said offering up a handful of memory slates from inside his tunic.

Sylas accepted them, asking, "And these are?"

"Several copies of the same thing.", Pach replied, "Though what that is exactly we don't know. It was something that the Te'Dak Tohl officer had with him, according to Gerrok. It's heavily encrypted. My staff is working on breaking the sequence right now, but I felt it best to have as many working the problem as possible. The other copies had been for Gymalt and whatever other commanders I was able to reach- but that looks like it's you alone now. I'd prefer not to return with those, on the chance that the Te'Dak Tohl become suspicious and reroute our return flight to one of their ships."

"I see.", Sylas said, "Very wise. I'll have my top staff start to work on it right away. You said this was carried by a Te'Dak Tohl officer?"

"Yes, Gerrok was very clear about that. Other details are less clear. The Te'Dak Tohl officer killed Gerrok's assistant, Gerrok killed him- which may be the reason why the Te'Dak Tohl are exercising such high levels of security- I'm not certain. The good side of this is that we have the information that was worth killing over- whatever it is. The bad side is that because of the encounter, Gerrok's notes on how to negate the Te'Dak Tohl's system neutralization weapon never reached The Exchange.."

"No?", Sylas asked, clearly understanding the implications.

"No, unfortunately not.", Pach confirmed, "So, we can assume that only we, under Gymalt's command are privileged to that knowledge. What is worse is that when we were on approach to your ship, we saw that Gymalt was putting out again. That removes him from the loop of easy communication."

"If you call this easy.", Sylas pointed out.

"Indeed."

"Though-.", Sylas continued speculatively, "It also gives us an ally removed from the immediate complications of The Factory lockdown- should that become a critical asset."

"Then you've suspected something is coming from the Te'Dak Tohl as well?"

"Yes.", Sylas said, "And what you've told me only strengthens that suspicion. I would gladly cut off my own left arm and trade it for the knowledge of what exactly, but I doubt the Te'Dak Tohl would see equity in the trade. The fact that they are compartmentalizing us from one another does not bode well. -As for the other commanders in the squadron, I couldn't say what their thoughts are on this."

"Assume only we two concur in our suspicions.", Pach advised, "I'd suggest making yourself and your ship ready, as I have, for the possibility of just about anything. How any of this can possibly be advantageous to the Te'Dak Tohl on the verge of a major offensive against the Invid, I can't say. But still, something tells me to be on guard."

"Me as well.", Sylas agreed, "We will be ready here, for whatever comes."

"Yes, we will have to be more dependent on one another should something unfortunate arise.", Pach warned, "And my time draws very short here.- Fate be with us, Sylas."

"Fate favors the prepared, Pach.", Sylas said, "So lets get you the names of those officers you brought back to me and get you on your way."

Transport 4825

Initiation of combat operations was drawing near, and Marosa and Vala had joined the mass of offices and warriors their platoons had been attached to for the purpose of being briefed on the details.

Like the irregular and arguably unwise decision made by the Te'Dak Tohl to overload the transport ships, the briefing was to take place in an equally unorthodox location. There were dedicated spaces aboard for the briefing of officers and unit commanders, but in light of the excessive numbers that had been packed aboard these compartments were woefully inadequate. The improvised solution had been to transform the mess facilities yet again into temporary briefing rooms.

Now, having ousted the unfortunate warriors who had been forced to reside in the perpetually active mess rooms the Te'Dak Tohl had summoned those in need of briefing for that purpose. Unusual to the warrior caste but indicative of Te'Dak Tohl norms, the compartment turned briefing room was shared now by officers and critical sub-officers of both genders.

More common to Te'Dak Tohl norms in the understanding the warrior caste was developing for them was the way in which the enforcers indifferently crammed every space with warrior bodies.

Glutted as this compartment was, narrow but discernable gulfs stood between congregations of males and females that were heterogeneous as the combining of oil and water. The warrior caste was not bowing completely to the will of the Te'Dak Tohl- some elements of their nature persisted.

In some respects this served a practical good as it did for Marosa and Vala who only by their mingling with similar sized females could have hoped to view the holographic projections that were to accompany the briefing. And in some respects the self-imposed segregation of the genders in this setting was less adversarial than an observer outside of and unaccustomed to Zentraedi ways may have been first inclined to believe. While the genders were divided into groups by choice, there was no overt attempt by either to command more deck space than what was absolutely required by their numbers.

Each gender was crowded equally into their own groups.

Marosa and Vala had noticed this with only fleeting interest. The stated purpose of the assembly was to receive details on what for every warrior in the room would soon be a matter of life and death. All had questions, the Te'Dak Tohl had finally seen fit to provide some answers, and attention was directed appropriately.

"I didn't think that brawls had to be planned.", Vala said suddenly after some bit of silence between her friend and herself due mainly to the effort to maintain position. As the last of the officers were arriving and finding places to stand, less attention had to be given to such things- the sheer number of bodies in the compartment precluded movement.

"How do you mean?", Marosa asked, trying to see around an unusually large lieutenant who the crowd had just wedged before her and who stood nearly a full head taller than she.

"Look at this", Vala muttered in disbelief, "We've got Regult units in here with Quadrannos, infantry units bunched up over there. I'm not even going to mention the fact that we're being bundled up with the males. I don't see a single officer amongst them from a Fighter Pod unit, so does that mean we're all destined for ground operations?"

"Quadrannos with infantry?", Marosa asked with skeptical rhetoric, "Not likely. Infantry and standard mechanized units are better suited to mutually support one another. Using Quadranos as anything but shock troops would strip us of our speed and precision of action- it would be a waste of a valuable asset."

"That's how it's looking to me.", Vala said bitterly, "Our Te'Dak Tohl superiors are organizing a brawl, not a campaign."

Marosa found the same disquieting feeling unsettling her again- the feeling that had come over her with Etmal in the ship's storage spaces.

"Vala-.", Marosa said cautiously, "Remember what I was telling you earlier?"

"Etmal's latest paranoid episode? Yes?"

"Yeah, that.", Marosa replied, "Only it's looking a lot less paranoid now, isn't it? Maybe between you and Etmal, you're onto something. I mean, why should the Te'Dak Tohl invest the energy into coming up with a detailed strategy for how to use us if they could cause just as much damage to the Invid by dumping us in quantity into the same space? Why not let us beat each other to a bloody pulp and then apply their own forces? We're expendables after all."

Vala was quiet for a moment, contemplative, "I don't know yet, but it's been in my mind to be honest. Let's hear what the Te'Dak Tohl have to say."

"Sure", Marosa agreed, "As though we had a choice now."

"As if we had a choice ever."

Marosa took stock of the crowd of officers again and paused as she made a quick survey of the males who were studying the females as intently with the same sweeping glances. A particular face caught Marosa's eye in the brutish mass and it took her a moment to place it.

"Vala, look at who it is-."

Vala followed the direction of Marosa's gaze, "Who?"

Marosa nodded, "The big, ugly one."

Vala hesitated as she searched across the crowd of females into the crowd of males, "They're all big and ugly. It comes from a shallower genetic cloning pool."

"From the keh match- the team captain."

Vala was able to zero in on Hedra in the crowd of male officers now that she had a face to search for, "Yeah, that's him alright. You weren't as specific as you could have been with big and ugly. This assignment keeps getting worse."

"At least we have a familiar face in this mob."

"Great- let's hope they're as happy to see us.", Vala replied, "-And of course that they fight better than they play keh."

A ripple of shifting attention ran through the crowd as something unseen drew all eyes toward the front of the compartment. Marosa and Vala rose up onto their toes to catch a glimpse of a male Te'Dak Tohl officer wearing the insignia of commander ascend the makeshift platform of mess tables that had been set up for the purpose at hand.

The officer strode with jerky, deliberate movements giving him the appearance of something automated rather than animated. His pale green skin was taut over a well-defined muscle and bone structure in his face, and though the cut of his uniform tunic concealed what was beneath, he carried himself like a wiry individual who sought to enlarge himself by movement and demeanor.

With her limited experience with males, this behavior did not surprise Marosa in the least. What did not conform to her experience was that a specimen lacking the physical mass of most male officers should hold the rank of commander. Frailty did not command respect or obedience in males.

"I am Commander Weltu", said the Te'Dak Tohl officer, his voice carrying well despite the size of the source. It carried better as the noise from the gathered officers dropped to nothing more than the shuffle of bodies against one another and the movement of boots on the deck, "-And you are now Action Group 442, until the completion of this operation."

The lights in the compartment dimmed and a hologram projector somewhere in the rear came to life, creating a three-dimensional image of the binary star system Murhan-Thade over the platform on which Weltu stood addressing the officers and warriors of the newly-named Action Group 442.

"You are assembled to serve a crushing, and hopefully final blow to the Invid elements of the Regent. His strategy of mass deployment and scattered, continuous engagement with you Zentraedi of the warrior caste has taken its inevitable toll on his forces. Deprived of his necessary resources of The Flower of Life, the Regent cannot- Te'Dak Tohl Intelligence feels- regenerate his forces in sufficient numbers to continue along this line of offensive strategy."

"Intelligence suspects that the Regent is massing his forces in order to concentrate his remaining numbers against the diminished and scattered Zentraedi armies still roaming the galaxy in smaller actions. If this is the Regent's new strategy, it has the potential to turn the war against us if he is successful. On the other hand, if we were to catch him unprepared and inflict significant damage upon his forces- we could swing the momentum of the war decisively in our favor."

"Fortunately", continued Weltu, "the initial stages of this new strategy make the Regent vulnerable as he rallies his armies. We will exploit this vulnerability."

The hologram chart showed the movements of the planets in their orbit at a highly accelerated rate, showing their paths in relation to the system's substantial asteroid belt and nebulous clouds of gas and dust.

"The binary stars are highly unstable, bordering on collapse into one another. This causes, naturally, an abnormally high level of ambient radiant energy which the Regent hoped to use to screen the massing of his forces from our observation. Clearly, this hope has not been realized. While the effectiveness of our sensors and our communications systems are greatly reduced by the solar storms of the binary stars, the radiant energy also has a clouding effect on the Invid sensitivity to Protoculture. In short, the shroud works both ways. We see them as poorly as they can see us- though we have the advantage of knowing that they are there."

The map zoomed in on the fourth planet in the system, which grew large and detailed in its topographical representation. As the planet spun weightlessly over Weltu's head, the view zoomed again onto a northern continent clearly defined by mountain chains along its eastern and western boundaries.

"The Regent's Hive has been detected in the south-eastern region of this continent.", Weltu explained as the map zoomed in further to show a series of dormant calderas disbursed over a vast volcanic plain."

"As we've seen with Hives in past campaigns, this one is constructed on an extinct volcanic structure which allows the Invid free and ready movement to numerous points all throughout the plain by way of natural tunnels. What is unusual is the size of this particular Hive complex- which is four times the size of any Hive we have encountered in the past."

"That's odd", Vala whispered sardonically to Marosa, "I've never seen a Te'Dak Tohl in the we of battle against the Invid."

Marosa prodded her friend to silence with her elbow- the validity of her point not lost on her however.

Weltu motioned to the map at an area to the northwest of the calderas in which the Hive was located. The area began to blink to define its boundaries.

"This will be our landing area and the rallying point of two other action groups. Under air cover, which will make planet-fall and approach from further northwest, we will proceed southeast in a massive envelopment maneuver on the Regent's Hive…"

From the horde of male officers came the bellowing question, "No orbital barrage on the target area?"

Weltu's displeasure at being interrupted came through clearly as his expression soured. It was apparent by his shifting gaze that he could not identify the speaker who had addressed him out of turn. In response, he replied to the mass assembly with an evenly scornful tone.

"It is felt that initiating the attack with a full scale barrage will do more harm by alerting the Invid to our presence before we can land all of our forces than the good it may render. I need not point out that a Hive of this size and importance will have a very formidable barrier shield to it. It's doubtful that we would penetrate the barrier even under the most intense fire. Secondly, the amount of dust and debris we would generate in trying to blast into the volcanic rock would only couple with the ambient radiant energy of the local stars to reduce the sensor efficiency of our ground forces and make communications between our units and our command ships difficult if not impossible. No, it has been determined that the best tactic is a methodical survey of the surrounding area to seize or close off any Invid tunnels, followed by a systematic siege and assault on the Hive."

"With reinforcements already assembling to assist in the siege and assault, we need only contain and engage the Invid in skirmishes. We have sufficient forces to hold the Invid where they are. Once our units are in place, there will be no way for the Regent to escape. Patience and continuously applied pressure in this matter will lead to victory. This concludes the general briefing. Units with special functions will be briefed separately."

Abruptly and without ceremony, Weltu left the platform with the same mechanical gait as he had ascended it.

The lights came back up and as soon as the commander had left the compartment, the crowd exploded in hundreds of conversations- all saying roughly the same thing. Some conversations could be heard to say the same thing more roughly than others.

"That was helpful.", Vala said with excessively thick sarcasm.

"I think I know less now than when I walked in.", Marosa agreed, "We at least know where we're landing now."

"Yeah", Vala said with a smirk, "It's that little part between the landing and the victory that I'm kind of fuzzy about…. What's that called again? Oh, the plan of battle! Do you think they actually have one, or are we just not permitted to hear about it?"

"Maybe we've got a special function that we're to be briefed on.", Marosa suggested.

"Maybe the Te'Dak Tohl just want to leave themselves the latitude to improvise.", Vala countered, "That wasn't a briefing, it was an outline for a bloodbath."

"Maybe Etmal is right.", Marosa suggested, believing her junior lieutenant's suspicions more now than she did only minutes before.

Vala decided without warning, "I say that we agree that no matter what our special function is, we don't let each other's squadron out of sight of one another for any reason. If this is going to turn into a free-for-all, we Quadranos should at least maintain some cohesion."

"I can agree to that.", Marosa said, "There's some security in numbers anyway."

"Against the Invid or the Te'Dak Tohl?"

The question lingered as a poignant one and went unanswered as the best response seemed to Vala and Marosa to be both.

Koso snatched Hedra's arm at the elbow as the lieutenant emerged from the mess room that had hosted the unit commanders' briefing. Hedra started, taken completely by surprise much to Koso's disbelief. Equally uncharacteristic to the new lieutenant, Hedra also appeared to Koso to be immersed in deep thought.

Together, these things could only mean that something extraordinary had been imparted within, and from the general mood of the warriors coming out of the briefing Koso could tell that it was not extraordinarily good.

"Well?", Koso asked as he and his platoon commander melted into the jumble of officers, male and female, who moved in a pack through the corridor with a density that seemed to threaten to burst the passage at the seams. Uncharacteristically though, the genders seemed to pay little mind to one another, each rather involved in their own thoughts and thus making Koso all the more anxious to hear the details of the briefing.

"We're to attack an Invid Hive.", Hedra said simply.

Koso's face contorted as though Hedra had insulted him in the worst possible way as he struck the officer's shoulder with just enough force to cause mild discomfort, "I didn't need you to tell me that.- Details?"

"A Regent's Hive-.", Hedra elaborated.

Koso paused, comprehending the enormity of the thing he and Hedra were to participate in.

"That might explain why they've packed us into every space and crevice on these transports with the females-.", Koso thought aloud and in doing so inviting affirmation from his friend, "But that hardly answers the need for all of the secrecy. Do the Te'Dak Tohl think we'll betray ourselves to the Invid or something?"

Hedra shook his head, "I don't know. We didn't really receive any meaningful details- just what we're to attack and where. We're part of a unit called Action Group 442- does that help answer any of your questions?"

"Not really.", Koso said, disappointed, "The Regent is likely to be in this Hive though?"

"That concerns you?", Hedra asked, "Be inspired and uplifted, Koso- our blood and sacrifice could bring an end to the war soon."

Koso could always tell when Hedra was being falsely optimistic. It was equal parts his perceptiveness and Hedra's inability to feign anything believably.

"I'm concerned that you're concerned.", Koso said honestly, "What are we concerned about?"

"It concerns me that there seems to be little in an organized plan of attack for so important a target.", Hedra admitted, honesty shining true in the statement.

Koso found that as with many important things, he was in total agreement with Hedra and that they two were able to share that concurrence without words.

After a moment though, Koso was compelled to say, "I wish I had been there to hear myself."

"I wish I hadn't.", Hedra countered, "Sub-Commander Ritzal was not at this briefing.- I'd like to know what he was told in his."

Koso glanced around nervously at having Hedra speak so openly about the presence of their true commander aboard the transport. There was no reaction from the officers and warriors with whom Hedra and Koso shared the corridor, so Koso took the damage done by Hedra's lax tongue to be minimal. Yet perhaps it was that because every aspect of this operation was under Te'Dak Tohl supervision and control, the suspicion lingered in Koso that unfriendly ears were always listening.

As an afterthought Koso also considered that fostering such suspicions were the intent of the Te'Dak Tohl and key to their control more than any tangible threat they might pose.

"We're to meet later.", Hedra continued, "Ritzal will then decide what we're to do."

"And then what?", asked Koso.

Hedra replied plainly, "I suppose we do it then."

"You're a genius, do you know that?"

"I know."

Koso looked to his right for no particular reason and almost tripped over his own feet in surprise. It was odd enough to find himself in such proximity to females, but the added shock of recognizing the two in particular that he now held stride with was strangely dizzying.

One of the two glanced over, noticing that she had been noticed, and her expression changed to mirror Koso's surprise closely.

"The keh match.", Koso said, explaining the clear but unspoken connection mutually felt between them..

"Yes.", said the female, "A well played match."

The other female now noticed Koso as well but said nothing.

"Action Group 442?", asked the first female.

"So my lieutenant tells me.", Koso replied.

The female nodded, "It will be good to have the kind of strength we saw in the arena on the battlefield, Sub-Lieutenant-..?.."

"Koso."

"Sub-Lieutenant Koso.", the female repeated.

"As with the cunning we saw.", Koso said, returning a compliment before he was aware he had done it, "Lieutenant-..?."

"Marosa.", she said, and motioning to her fellow female officer, "And this is Vala. We're Quadrannos."

"So we discovered.", Koso admitted, recalling the last moments of the heavily grudged match, "No wounded pride between warriors?"

"None.", said Vala, "We won. Come on, Marosa."

The slighter of the two females took the other in tow and pressed forward through the crowd.

Marosa did offer the parting remark, "Fate keep you in favor on the battlefield, Sub-Lieutenant."

Koso found himself puzzled by the exchange and only strayed from thoughts of it when Hedra nudged him.

"What was that about?"

"Don't know.", Koso admitted, "Maybe it's comparing them to the Te'Dak Tohl, but the females don't seem to be as bad as we might have believed."

"So they're a mark higher than the Te'Dak Tohl the same way that the Te'Dak Tohl are a mark higher than the Invid.", Hedra reasoned with mild scorn, "Something like that?"

"Something like that.", Koso agreed, "We're to fight with them one way or the other- we might as well find common ground to stand on. –And they did beat us at keh, didn't they? That should say something of their fighting spirit."

"And you say I'm the genius?"

Destroyer 741

The quantifiable, physical size of a Thuverl Salan Lot 500-Heavy Class destroyer was set fast by its design and was a constant between ships of that class in the same way that the atomic weight of carbon was constant between single particles of that element.. Its dimensions, specifications, intended officer, crew, and warrior complement, as well as the equipment, provisions, and munitions it was allotted to receive were rigidly set and within the controlled microcosm of a Robotech Automated Factory were adhered to with the precision of artificial intelligence.

These were the measurable qualities of a vessel's strength and size though.

There were subjective elements unique to the beholder that both added to and detracted from a ship's dimensions. Destroyer 741 was subject to Sub-Commander Dychi's perception, and it was making the vessel seem exponentially larger than what had been intended when a Factory many years before had transformed a detailed set of construction plans into the corporal form whose decks the sub-commander walked now.

In the sub-commander's tenure as executive officer aboard the vessel he had come to expect that traveling the passages of the crew and warriors' living spaces below decks meant wading through a bustle of ceaseless activity. The comings and goings of warriors beginning or ending watches, progression toward or returning from the ship's fitness or training facilities- the barracks spaces were always dense and alive with movement.

Until now.

Corridors where he could normally not have seen from one bulkhead to the next for the density of warriors gathered in moments of idleness now stood vacant so that one could see the reach of the passage until it vanished into a minuscule point. The omnipresent murmur of conversations in the same spaces that could on occasion rise to a roaring din was missing, replaced by the hollow echo of the sub-commander's booted footsteps chasing one another down the empty passageways.

It was to escape the sudden, vast emptiness of the ship that Dychi had retreated to the bridge as much as for any real necessity. The Te'Dak Tohl impressments had left most of the bridge staff behind to perform their functions- which meant that the bridge was one of the few areas of the ship that still bore a resemblance to the ship Dychi had known only days before. Here within that insulated bubble of normalcy work continued in earnest as though oblivious to the void that the rest of the vessel had become.

Or maybe, the executive officer thought, the remaining crew had felt the eerie emptiness of the ship and that somehow made the tedious nature of the task at hand seem more appealing.

The communications area of the command deck was packed with warrior specialists and junior officers, nearly elbow to elbow at every station as they worked at a single task. Four separate hologram screens rolled through a seemingly endless and random cascade of numbers that represented the encrypted information taken from the Te'Dak Tohl memory slate for decoding.

Only the decoding was not intended by the creators of the files for Zentraedi of the warrior caste.

The format of the encryption was identified early on, but without a set key by which to decipher the information, the process became one of great complexity and at the base level one of trial and error.

Dychi had already stood the better part of two watches observing the systematic attempts of the communications staff to unravel the enigma with little result or promise of headway. The cipher was an obstinate one and grudgingly held the advantage of not suffering from fatigue or frustration over those who sought to break it.

"So this is where everyone is-."

Dychi jumped slightly at unexpectedly hearing Sub-Commander Gerrok's voice. Turning to face the engineering officer, Dychi was struck immediately by Gerrok's shaky appearance.

"Yes, and this is just about everyone. How do you feel, Chief?", Dychi asked before realizing that the blunt, quick-tempered engineer would likely call him on the stupidity of the question.

"Like I was shot.", Gerrok said shortly.

Dychi felt relief that the full weight of Gerrok's caustic wit had not come down upon him, but at the same time was compelled to pursue the issue further.

"Should you be out of the infirmary?"

"No.", Gerrok replied, his interest captured by the activity of the communications staff, "But I am. I can feel feeble here just as well as there."

"I won't argue with you then.", Dychi resolved wisely, " Though the Commander would have a fit if he knew you were here."

Gerrok ignored the executive officer's speculation, despite knowing it to be dead on target. Instead, he shifted his glance from one of the four hologram display screens to the next as the attempts at decryption continued.

"Is that it?"

"Yes.", Dychi replied, taking comfort that Gerrok was well in tune with what he was seeing, It boded well for his full recovery that he was so easily able to step into sync with the staff's activities.

"That's the raw encrypted files off of the memory slate that you- recovered- from The Factory."

Gerrok leaned against a nearby duty station for support, causing Dychi some concern. A slow-release medication bandage had been woven around the wounded portion of Gerrok's left arm by the automated medical system, but if the officer were to go over he could easily reopen the injury. Dychi decided, given Gerrok's lack of tolerance for his meddling, that the best he could do was to watch Gerrok and be ready to assist him if needed. That would carry a penalty too- but hopefully less of a pointless argument. In the most ideal, non-confrontational conditions between the two officers that Dychi could hope for, warning the engineer of his own obvious frailty would receive the same consideration as telling the ship directly that one of its systems was out of calibration.

Dychi had yet to experience an "ideal" situation.

"Any idea as to what's on it?", Gerrok asked.

"None at the moment.", Dychi replied, "Though there's a lot of information. We know that much-. The slate was filled to almost full capacity. We have determined a rough structure to the files. There are thousands of smaller files I believe to be text or audio-video recorded files- and then there's the large one. It occupies nearly seventy percent of the used space on the slate. I can't imagine its text or video- the element would be huge. It has to be some other kind of file- technical or executable files perhaps."

"Let's see it.", Gerrok said, seeming somewhat steadier on his feet and in less need of the console's support with a task to apply himself to.

"It's still encrypted, you won't recognize anything.", Dychi warned as he motioned to one of the communications officers to display the data in question.

On one of the hologram screens a graphic representation of the memory slate's file contents appeared. A moment later the screen cleared and the cascade of random numbers began to flitter down the display.

"It will run for hours if we let it.", Dychi informed him.

"Maybe", Gerrok replied, "You've managed to define the file structure… What about the data element structure inside of the file?"

"Sure, but that doesn't aide in decrypting the file.", Dychi said, motioning to the communications officer again.

The cascade of coded data ceased and the seamless lines of numbers began to break into shorter but still noticeably complex strands.

"That's not computer code.", Gerrok said after a moment's study.

"What?", asked Dychi.

"It's not computer code or text files.", Gerrok repeated, "Too complex. Computer code would break down as multiple lines of simple and concise instructions. Look at that…."

"Well", Dychi said, "we'll assume you're right. That still doesn't help us understand what it is. Any suggestions on the best approach to cracking it?"

"I am incredible", Gerrok said without shame, "but I don't know everything."

"Your modesty humbles us all."

"It's a burden from time to time."

Gerrok turned away from the decryption activities and quickly found a portion of the main viewscreen that spanned the width of the compartment head to be occupied with the ship's status board. Not having been to the engineering spaces of the ship yet, this was Gerrok's first glimpse into the workings of the ship since before his injury.

"The main particle beam weapon is charging.", Gerrok noticed aloud, "And you're running the main protoculture reactor at fifteen percent? That's going to take an eternity."

"The commander's orders.", Dychi replied, "He wanted the main battery charged, but did not want to risk arousing suspicion from the Te'Dak Tohl by having the reactor run at a high level."

"I see", Gerrok said incredulously, "So, if we should have a problem, the gun will be charged, but the engines are still cold? If we were to need to go into action five minutes from now, how would we maneuver?"

Dychi paused, not having considered the time required to pre-heat the plasma-handling components of the ship's main drive system for use. "Cold starting" engines could easily turn the slightest flaw in any of a dozen vital engine sub-systems into a source of catastrophe.

What concerned Dychi most was that Commander Pach had not considered the potential difficulty. Admittedly, the commander had every detail to consider and attend to and in an uncertain amount of time- but such an oversight was not like him in Dychi's mind.

Stress and fatigue eventually broke down even the sturdiest warriors, and Dychi was aware that this could be the first indicative crack.

"I'm going to double the reactor's output", Gerrok informed the executive officer, "We can add another five percent to charging the gun and still have more than enough to warm the engines and run the ship's systems."

"Won't the increase in power be noticed on the dock master's display board?"

"Sure", Gerrok admitted, "We're powering up within permitted dockyard operating parameters though. He won't know how we're applying our power, and moreover he won't have grounds to question us on it. That's assuming of course that anyone is paying particular attention to how we're running our reactor."

"Do it then.", Dychi instructed, "I'll inform the Commander when he comes on duty."

"I will.", Gerrok said, as though the executive's ascent had been only a secondary concern to him.

"Can you think of anything else from the engineering perspective that we can do to prepare?", Dychi asked.

"Prepare for what?", Gerrok replied, "That's the first question. In short though, no. Of course, if you suddenly become able to predict the future- come see me and we'll talk."

Dychi shook his head, "I'm afraid that in my manufacture I was not provided with the ability of precognition. Though there are times like these that I wish there was such a skill implant."

A strange expression came over Gerrok's face. Dychi mistook it at first for the prelude to a biting remark, but it did not develop that way. Gerrok instead seemed to have withdrawn inwards, and had other physical indicators not said differently Dychi would have thought him on the verge of passing out from the weakness of his injuries.

"What?", Dychi asked, aware now that Gerrok had stumbled onto something of importance.

"You said implant?"

"I did.", Dychi affirmed, "But-?"

Both officers turned again to the decoding activity and shared a speculative moment of silence.

"Genetic information?", Dychi suggested.

"No", Gerrok said flatly rejecting the idea, "To the best of my knowledge, no Zentraedi ship- probably not even Te'Dak Tohl- has cloning technology aboard. That is part of how the Masters keep their control- we can't replenish our numbers without their Factories. But consider this- We have large amounts of data assembled in a seemingly disorganized structure.- Dychi, we could be looking at an implant file."

"Memory implants?", Dychi clarified.

"Or skill sets.", Gerrok said, "The Te'Dak Tohl do have stasis chambers, as do we. They may be augmenting their own base of knowledge to include- whatever this is…"

"But putting a Zentraedi back into stasis after The Awakening is hazardous", Dychi pointed out, "And I was of the understanding that trying to introduce new memory implants was impossible. Fatal or severely damaging to the intended subject at least."

"So we're told.", Gerrok said, "I'm personally beginning to question a good many things lately."

"I see your point.", Dychi agreed, "That file is of sufficient size to be something as complex as an implant file, Gerrok- but what skill set or memory construct is worth killing over? What befell you and Jerl does seem somewhat disproportionate."

Gerrok shrugged with his uninjured shoulder, "By itself, maybe. Maybe all together the contents of that slate are worth killing for-."

"Still, the data will have to be decoded before it's of any use.", Dychi concluded.

"No argument here."

"That's a first."

Artoc

Sub-General Caldettas entered the senior officers' briefing room quietly to find General Krymina engaged in the same activity and in the same state as he had found her many times before in the past several days.

Several holographic screens were opened and hovered above the briefing table where empty bowls and drinking vessels told of Krymina's taking meals there in dedication to her task. A single screen displayed readiness updates provided by Krymina's chief lieutenants and unit commanders. The others reflected Krymina's most recent, personal pursuit.

Breetai.

Though Krymina had paused the audio file upon Caldettas's entry into the briefing room, it had taken him hearing only a fraction of a word to identify the legendary norghil commander by his now-familiar deep, resonating voice. Similarly, it took only the reading of a few lines of text on the other open holographic screens to recognize that they were displaying reports either by or about the supreme general of the warrior caste.

General Krymina was forward-thinking and always a step ahead of her lieutenants and staff in her leadership.

As reflected by the open readiness reports, she was keenly aware of and interested in the developing operations that the 7th Grand Army was now engaged in. At the same time though, she was showing the next focus of her attention.

Caldettas was not unfamiliar with Breetai.

As Te'Dak Tohl, the enforcers of The Robotech Masters rule over primarily the norghil it followed that it was prudent to know of the character of the commander that officers of the warrior caste were most likely to try to emulate. War games and combat training scenarios had been constructed, executed, reviewed, and revised by the Te'Dak Tohl in anticipation of the possibility that they might have to one day meet the legend in battle. To this end, Caldettas had been a thorough and diligent student in assimilating and digesting what Breetai's official records had to offer him.

General Krymina, as was her custom, took the labor of knowing her enemy to a far deeper level. She would and could be counted on to immerse herself in Breetai until she was confident that her instincts were in tune with his. The process would not be complete to her satisfaction until she felt that she could look at any given situation and see it as he did.

Caldettas recognized that the effort surpassed a need for understanding. The natural order of things abhorred vacancy. To be able to destroy something utterly, a substitute or replacement of equal value was required.

Caldettas had no illusions as to what this implied in Krymina's pursuit of Breetai. Greatness could not simply be eradicated- it had to change hands.

"Report, Caldettas.", Krymina said, snapping her lieutenant's attention back to the duty at hand. The shock was two-fold as Caldettas had been certain that Krymina had been at least as transfixed in her studies as he had been at watching her.

"We are at Initiation Hour, minus six, General.", Caldettas reported, "All units report to be in final preparations for deployment. Final reports on norghil positions and strengths are coming in from our elements aboard The Factory now. The norghil state of readiness appears to be shamefully low. Conditions are as ideal for us as we can hope."

"Naturally", Krymina said approvingly, "We tell the norghil to march, they march. It's inconsequential to them that we march them into the flames. Those details don't concern them. They only know to march. So we tell them to march, or not to march, or to stand by idly. So why should we be surprised that they do? It's their simplicity that is the core of their strength and of their weakness. It comes down to who leads them and who tells them to march."

"Breetai's skill in ordering the norghil to march-.", Caldettas said speculatively, "Do you think he has been able to apply it to his new alien allies? Do you believe they are as easily commanded?"

Krymina returned to her studies without neglecting her ongoing conversation with Caldettas, "I would be painfully disappointed if he had not. From what I have read, they have the ability to be fierce warriors. Under Breetai's command, perhaps they could even rise to become worthy adversaries. –Perhaps I was too hasty in my initial assessment of them. Though I already sense some of their inherent weakness, through Breetai's reports."

"Exploitable ones I hope?", Caldettas asked aware of the rarity he'd been witness to in hearing Krymina's free and genuine admission of a possible error. He would not point out that her forming position on the aliens had been one that he had suggested and that she had chastised him for.

"The most exploitable kind.", Krymina assured him, "They appear to be willing to sacrifice too much for too little gained. Perhaps its pride, perhaps some sentimentality that they have not mastered in themselves. Its origin doesn't interest me beyond how best it can be used against them. What I haven't been able to understand yet is how Breetai could have chosen these creatures as allies in revolt against The Robotech Masters. I think that when I know that, I will know Breetai."

"It's entirely possible that you do not have to know him at that level to defeat him.", Caldettas pointed out.

Krymina appeared to ignore her lieutenant's supposition and continued on a tangent that at first made no sense to Caldettas.

"There is something powerful in the choice of words, Caldettas.", Krymina stated with firm certainty, "The use of words betrays our inner selves to anyone who has the sense to listen. Take Breetai for instance-."

"No word casually selected, every phrase to a point. Every thought building on the last and adding to a final conclusion. No opinion, no supposition, just carefully distilled and digested fact. Every thought- he is supremely confident that he understands every detail on which he speaks-."

"Doubt and uncertainty make him uncomfortable. He doesn't know how to grapple with what he doesn't understand. If you examine his reports and the reports from his lesser commanders on the same campaign from the same time, he omits elements that cause clear confusion to his lieutenants."

"You are suggesting that Breetai avoids what he doesn't understand?", asked Caldettas.

"No.", Krymina corrected, "If you listen to him, you can hear him working to resolve things in his own mind. The mind is always at work- but it needs that resolution to act. I've found his weakness, Caldettas. That's how I will defeat him. We must discover those things that cause him uncertainty now, and exploit them. We lunge from the shadows and with a swift, decisive blow- we break his back. If he is given time, he will come to understand us- possibly even come to understand me. That is when Breetai will be a threat to us."

"What of these humans?", Caldettas asked, "Is it not possible that exposure to them has changed him? If Breetai is as given to adaptation as you believe, is it unreasonable to assume that he might not have adopted some of the qualities from them that initially challenged him?"

"Possibly", agreed Krymina, "Even probably. I believe firmly though that we never change at our basest level. Breetai may take on the ability to act unpredictably, but at his core, he will always be methodical. These humans, at their core, are parasitic. They needed Zor's Battle Fortress to even conceive of the notion of Robotechnology, and they needed Breetai to secure victory over the norghil. They will look to him for guidance- they will feed off of him to evolve. Thus, his weakness will become theirs. That is my belief, Caldettas."

Caldettas grew slightly uncomfortable at what he had to say next, though he knew that Krymina was both expecting him to say it, and needed him to say it to refine her own thoughts. He was the voice of doubt that she lacked- the part of herself that was separate from herself, but that she needed to be a whole.

"That belief, General- well founded as it may be, will require substantiation before we can in confidence act on it. Especially if we are to base the strategy of a campaign upon it."

"Yes, of course.", Krymina said with the hint of a sigh, "Always the wise voice of caution, Caldettas, you are correct. We need intelligence. We need reliable, focused, unclouded intelligence."

"We have the location of the human planet.", Caldettas reminded Krymina, "There is no reason that once the norghil are dealt with in our present campaign, that we cannot begin probing and reconnaissance operations."

"And we will.", Krymina agreed, "But in truth, we will need more. Intelligence gathering from afar is at best only peering in through the windows. To understand what we're dealing with fully, we must be inside looking out."

"That may be difficult, General. Possible, but with many complexities."

"Then we find officers and warriors who can deal with the complex.", Krymina stated. Her mind was set in this matter; there was no dissuading her.

"Then we shall want Serhot Ran..", Caldettas said, "And the best commander available."

Krymina nodded, "Action Commander Kevtok comes to mind immediately."

"I thought you might be thinking of Kevtok, General.", Caldettas agreed, "He does enjoy your favor."

Krymina raised an eyebrow, asking, "Does he? I look at it as he enjoys the confidence he has earned on numerous occasions. I have no qualms about sending Kevtok to face peril any more than I have to send others. If he is the proper tool, I will use him. We will return to these discussions later, Caldettas. First, we must dispose of the norghil."

Krymina shifted her weight in her chair and returned to the study of the files before her.

Transport 4825

The storage compartment that had become a temporary hangar and mecha pool to the Quadranos' Queadlunn-Rau combat suits, as well as to the mecha of a number of other units, was noticeably less congested.

The cause could be heard and felt throughout the ship. The transport's sturdy decks vibrated with the movement of fully armed and equipped infantry and mecha units from their storage locations toward the ship's many hangars to board transport pods for the assault on Murhan-Thade 4.

Lt. Marosa checked the seals on her pressure suit in final preparation as the members of her squadron did the same. Compared to sudden calls to action that they had all experienced in the past, time was abundant and the Quadranos would use it to check one another and to inspect each other's mecha as an added measure that nothing would be overlooked in readying for the fight. They had gone methodically through the pre-mission routine, as they would have for any mission- only there was an unspoken understanding, a common belief that this operation was in some way different. There was great suspicion collectively that their only reliable support would be from themselves and possibly other Quadrano units with whom a greater camaraderie was shared.

For this reason above all, every crucial detail of machine and warrior that could be checked was.

A deck officer appeared in the massive doorway to the storage compartment and motioned to a platoon of Regults that had been standing by that they were required on the flight deck for loading. Hatches still open, the platoon of Regults marched in impressive unison toward the door and out onto the transport flight deck beyond.

The practice of leaving the hatches open aboard ship, while detracting from the menacing appearance of the Regults, was a common one amongst more seasoned warriors as it allowed the pilots to breathe from the transport's practically inexhaustible air supply and not the limited quantity of their own. Resupply in the field in times of battle, even of critical consumables like air, was sometimes unreliable and depended heavily on the diligence of individual logistics units. More often than not they came through, but wiser warriors conserved at every opportunity to include not closing the hatches of their combat pods until the last conceivable second- and in the most unrepentant form of scavenging, often using a lull in battle to strip the mecha of a fallen comrade of useable weapons and transferring the life-sustaining consumables that could be saved to their own.

The first and best precaution of course was to preserve what one had been issued- so the hatches of Regults tended to remain open until the moment they needed to be shut.

Novice warriors learned this quickly from the experienced, but in a darkly ironic joke played by Fate on those learning practical warriors' skills- novices sometimes forgot to activate their pods' life support systems after closing the hatches and in the apprehension that prefaced battle. Subsequently, when they engaged and the rush of adrenaline surged and focus was on the fight- hypoxia set in quickly and had claimed more than one warrior in his overlooking of that single detail.

Finding a new warrior dead at the controls of a perfectly functional Regult was a source of ghoulish amusement to the experienced- but more importantly it was a cherished find of resources that they themselves would make better use of.

"Quadrannos", said the deck officer, motioning to Marosa with meaningful, symbolic hand gestures that were used commonly on flight decks where voices would not always carry over the sounds of operating machines, "Three minutes."

Marosa gave a nod of acknowledgement to the deck officer who vanished out into the passage to attend to some other detail for which he was responsible. The lieutenant then turned to her pilots who stood nearby in the final moments before they would have to commit themselves to the confines of their combat suits. They too did this to conserve the air supply that would have to sustain them in battle- but mostly it was to enjoy those last moments of free motion.

"Well, here we go.", Marosa said, unceremonious by intention. The understatement of the comment relieved some of the tension visibly felt by all.

"We haven't been given a clear objective yet, but we've dealt with fluid situations before. We know the nature of the region on which we're landing, and we know that there will be Invid. Our standing orders are to preserve the forward right flank for our Action Group as it advances, and to act as a scouting element as it is required by the group commander, Weltu. Remember that we're Quadrannos, and that we will be expected to perform as such. Watch yourselves and watch each other. Act with force and precision and we will carry the day. Suit up."

As the pilots of the squadron dispersed, Etmal remained and intercepted Marosa on her way to her power armor.

"That was moving- any more encouraging words?", asked the junior lieutenant.

Marosa shook her head, "Only that at least we know where the Invid stand in all of this."

Etmal nodded in resignation, and then with forced optimism pointed out, "I could be wrong, of course."

"You could be.", Marosa conceded, her tone revealing that she was not convinced, "Fate keep you, Etmal."

Marosa left Etmal with the gesture of well-wishing and took to the ungainly but familiar effort of getting into her combat suit. The Queadlunn-Rau power armor stood rigidly at a tireless state of attention, the breastplate hatch swung open and upwards. Marosa scaled hand and foot-holds built into the legs and lower chest that she might not have normally had to have used if she had had the support of the deck crew that attended to Quadrano units aboard Sihlak.

The difference a simple rolling ladder made was profound at moments like these- especially in its absence.

Marosa reached the elongated hatch and with a little more effort swung and lowered her body into the waiting body cavity of the suit. Legs found their way into control stirrups that engaged and closed snugly but not constrictively on her limbs as Marosa's arms worked into the suit's control sleeves.

The power armor would use numerous sensors in Marosa's flight suit to read her nerve impulses and translate commands intended for her muscles into ones for the Queadlunn-Rau's artificial ones.

Unlike a Gnerl fighter or a Regult Combat Pod, very few of the suit's many functions required "hands-on" control to the point where learning to use the suit was mostly a matter of experimentation and practice in turning one's own physical motions and thought into commands for the complex machine. Tutelage under the guidance of warriors who had already developed their skill was crucial- but it always came down to the determination of the individual warrior to make the effort to become a Quadrano. It was certainly a matter of determination for a warrior to become a superior one.

Still, the formidable Queadlunn-Rau that had offered he so much protection and confidence in battle before seemed to Marosa at that moment to be a frail thing at best. She worked to put the doubts out of her mind- her squadron would be looking to her now for their reassurance. Marosa only hoped that the little she had to offer herself would be enough to go around.

Regardless of their morale though- the transport to Murhan-Thade 4 was waiting.

Artoc

The air of the flagship's command center was nearly alive with a static charge as nervous energy born of anticipation was channeled into the routine activities required to make ready for battle. Within their departments and specialty areas, crew and staff worked in fluid cooperation to prime the Te'Dak Tohl war machine for action.

"Navigation showing two minutes to defold.", announced the navigation officer from his supervisory position.

From the command bubble above and to the rear of the compartment, General Krymina watched the final processes pick up momentum. Functions and duties were now carried out with near automated precision from drill and application. In many important ways the battle was already being fought, though not a single shot had been fired yet nor a single drop of blood spilled. This was the all-important foundational work that made the dreaded lightning strikes of the Te'Dak Tohl on the unexpecting possible.

The blade was being raised silently over the necks of the oblivious norghil.

"Weapons Control", Krymina instructed from her post of observation and control, "Activate the failure mode device as soon as we have secured from hyperspace. I want the norghil rendered helpless before they can even sound an alarm."

"Yes, General.", complied the head officer from the flagship's weapons control division.

The flagship, and by mandate of the operational plan the entire fleet had been at action stations for almost half an hour- tensing to spring. For Sub-General Caldettas's part, there were no final orders to be given, there was nothing left to be done but stand dutifully by Krymina's side and wait for the joining of battle.

For that matter, there was nothing more for General Krymina to do but wait for the same. At this point they were committed and had General Krymina elected to abort the assault on the norghil at port, the Te'Dak Tohl could no more call off the disposing of the norghil at Murhan-Thade 4 than could their commanders warn them of danger in the unlikely event of a chance to do so.

The perfect conception of the plan and the choice to execute it now bound the predators and the prey alike.

Looking to where his superior sat in the modest space of the command bubble, Caldettas saw in Krymina an ease familiar to her at times like these that Caldettas did not have the pleasure of knowing. His mind spun with the effort of internally verifying that all possible considerations had been addressed while Krymina seemed immersed in some form of enjoyment.

"I will have achieved a great personal triumph when I can be as composed at these moments as you are, General.", Caldettas confessed unexpectedly. The outburst was as much to release tension for the executive officer as to disclose his mild jealousy at Krymina's abilities of self-governance.

"And I will have achieved one when I understand why you consistently doubt your own abilities, Caldettas.", Krymina replied, "Our work has set everything into place- and now there is only the doing. Step back for a moment, Caldettas, and appreciate this event for what it is. This is first light of the dawn of our time."

"Thirty seconds.", announced the navigation officer.

The Trendok 145 Robotech Automated Factory

"Resistance should be disorganized and minimal.", Point Lieutenant Nuhr reminded the Serhot Ran of his force, "Move quickly and aggressively aboard the norghil vessels, secure your assigned areas, and eliminate all personnel in your path. The command centers and engineering spaces are critical- do not allow yourselves to get mired in eliminating pockets of resistance at the cost of swiftly taking these objectives. Once secured, move on to occupy the main corridor junctions. By that time, support units should be arriving to conduct the full sweep- they will handle the bulk of the norghil."

Lieutenant Moyrt heard the words of his company commander clearly, but his mind was already focused and building for the fight. Moyrt knew that Nuhr was as obligated to give the last minute reinforcement of orders as much as he was obligated to listen- but Moyrt also knew that the practice was unnecessary. Even in the most hastily constructed missions, Serhot Ran knew their objectives. Furthermore, the elite shock troops did not need to be reminded of the combat doctrine that made them so feared- swift and aggressive action.

Perhaps as much as Moyrt's mind had been on his role in the mission as he was listening, Nuhr's mind had been on his part as he had been speaking.

Regardless of what had been said or heard on any cognitive level, the action was almost upon the Serhot Ran and Moyrt was now feeling the charge of adrenaline.

If there was a heightened tension felt through the company, Moyrt suspected that it was not the nature of the mission so much as the object of it. The killing of norghil was nothing unusual for Serhot Ran- capturing the flagship of a norghil commander was somewhat less routine.

Point Lieutenant Nuhr's company of Action Commander Kevtok's division of Serhot Ran filled the back corridors and passages of the storage areas just off the dockyard area to which Pritan Cardun of the 604th Grand Army was moored. So large was this vessel of the Queadol-Magdomilla Class that it occupied the space on the mooring jetty normally allotted to two Thuverl Salan Class destroyers.

Service and personnel gangways connected the flagship on multiple decks to corresponding levels of the jetty. The Factory level that Nuhr's company covered in was the one linked directly to the flagship's command level and the deck from which the vital engineering spaces were most easily accessed. Other units would infiltrate the ship at every connected level- but access to the crucial areas was the reasons for the placement of the Serhot Ran.

Predictably compliant to the orders issued by General Krymina's command, the norghil had drawn back from all areas of the Trendok 145 with the exception of the dockyard immediately beyond the gangway portals which linked their vessels to The Factory. Surveillance that had been easily achieved through The Factory's internal security monitors had shown that even these areas (with only a few minor exceptions) were occupied by only a minimal guarding force.

In the case of Pritan Cardun on the level that Lt. Moyrt would soon be assaulting, only a pair of Regults and twice as many dismounted sentries stood watch outside of each of the dockyard's four gangway ports. The posting was minimal adherence to a standard practice and was in no way indicative that the norghil suspected what the Te'Dak Tohl had planned.

Whether the norghil had caught the scent of danger on the wind or not, and particularly with Artoc to arrive within moments with its failure mode device- the meager norghil defense would have no effect on the outcome of the day.

Hyra and her platoon were one corridor further back from the jetty than Moyrt and his- the arrangement having been set arbitrarily by Point Lieutenant Nuhr and not reflecting on the abilities of either platoon leader or unit. Despite the competition between them and the more than ample exchanges of good-humored abuse, Moyrt was glad that Hyra's unit would be working in conjunction with his own. Moyrt would go into action with any Serhot Ran warrior assured that they would perform to the standard- with Hyra he could be certain that she would exceed it.

What he found himself needing at the moment was one of Hyra's comments of sharp wit- even if it was directed at him- to take the edge off the tension.

This could not happen though as communications chatter was to be kept to a minimum. The norghil could not listen in on the coded frequencies used by the Te'Dak Tohl, but there was no preventing them from monitoring and noticing an elevation in traffic on those frequencies.

Ten seconds remained as the mission clock projected with the other tactical information into the interior of Moyrt's helmet visor continued to count down.

Point position for the platoon was Moyrt's first sub-lieutenant, Cholta, with a promising warrior, Uhtkel acting as his cover in the "two" position of the pair. Moyrt was both fully capable of and willing to lead the assault on one of Pritan Cardun's amidships airlocks- but as with commanders at every level, his first and most pressing responsibility was control of his unit in the fight. It was understood and the fact that the lieutenant was not in the lead would not draw resentment from Moyrt's subordinates.

The mission clock ran down to zero and rebounded into the positive tracking of seconds.

The lights in the corridors went dark by control of the operations staff in The Factory's nerve center. The emergency lighting over which there was no control came on automatically but yielded a fraction of the illumination offered by the primary system.

"Go!", Moyrt ordered with managed intensity.

The external microphones of his Nacht-Rau combat suit conveyed to him the sounds of missile and Nador assault rifle fire echoing through the main corridor from the dockyard beyond. Explosions sent tremors through the deck, but these were lost to the pilot under the heavy footfall of combat suits including his own.

The Nacht-Rau's optics system adjusted automatically to provide the pilot with the clearest view of his surroundings as space opened between the point element of Moyrt's platoon and his own. Directly ahead, the two Regults that had been guarding the gangway Moyrt and his unit would be using for access were toppled and recognizable only from the hip assembly down. Their bulbous pilot's compartments had been penetrated through the modest frontal armor by armor-piercing missiles from Serhot Ran teams assigned to secure and hold the dockyard. Smoke from secondary burn poured freely from the mecha's twisted bodies that had been ruptured at the seams and pried open from within by the missile warheads.

Closing at a full run on the gangway portal, it wasn't until he was nearly upon it that Moyrt saw the remains of the four dismounted warriors who had stood this particular post with the Regults that now smoldered. It was as difficult as it was unimportant to tell which had been killed by flying shards of the Regults and which had been taken down by destabilized plasma bolts from a Nador- the end effect was relatively the same. Body segments and limbs were scattered and mingled within gathering pools of blood and gore.

This held only passing interest for the Serhot Ran for as long as it took to assess and pronounce-

"Clear!"

Despite the optical enhancement provided by his suit, Moyrt lost Cholta and Uhtkel in a flash of heat and billow of smoke from the launching of missiles from their suits' shoulder launchers. The sharp hiss of the weapons going downrange had not subsided significantly when from beyond the gangway tube and within Pritan Cardun cane a succession of explosions and the rattle of shrapnel from anti-personnel fragmentation missiles around an enclosed metal space.

Traversing the gangway tube and reaching the outer airlock of the norghil flagship, Moyrt found himself increasingly dependent on his suit's optical enhancement systems. Artoc had clearly arrived and had disabled the onboard systems of the norghil fleet with the failure mode device per the mission plan as Pritan Cardun's internal illumination was out, and all intercom and visible control panels were dark. The emergency lamps for the area just inside of the inner airlock had been shattered by the fragmentation missiles fired by Moyrt's point element much as they had butchered a now unrecognizable warrior who by chance or by posting had been in the wrong place at the wrong time at the moment of the assault.

Moyrt saw Cholta react to something to his right down a corridor, whirl in reaction and fire. A blaze of plasma bolts from the Nacht-Rau's massive Nador lit the corridor brilliantly and cast long shadows as Uhtkel automatically swept the corridor in the other direction. The lieutenant and his second reached the inner airlock before Cholta could announce his area cleared and disengage and rather than halt the momentum of the assault, Moyrt opted to take the lead in the advance to the left.

This was the direction Moyrt's platoon was to move in to reach their objective of the ship's command center. Moyrt accepted his succession into the point position for his unit without second thought. With the norghil mecha now neutralized, there were few weapons available to the crew of the flagship that posed a serious threat to Moyrt's Nacht-Rau- assuming he wasn't reckless. He could hear the panicked exchanges of the norghil as they scrambled through passages more interior to the ship, as well as the distant and muffled report of the weapons of other assault teams. The scramble was on for the norghil to find a place to run, hold, or defend while Moyrt had a specific destination for himself and his platoon in mind.

Now on the point of the advance, Moyrt deployed his Nacht-Rau's probe from its storage mount on his suit's back. The cylindrical drone raced ahead of the suit riding a cushion of anti-gravity as it followed a predetermined course through corridors in the direction of the flagship's command center. Programmed to not advance more than a given distance in front of Moyrt's Nacht-Rau, the probe ventured just far enough ahead to give the pilot the "eyes forward" view around corners and into corridors without exposing the warrior to fire.

The probe's video feed appeared to Moyrt within a frame inside of the imagery yielded by his combat suit. As the drone came around a corner to enter the corridor that would span almost the full distance remaining to Pritan Cardun's nerve center, Moyrt was mildly shocked to see a squad of norghil warriors in full body armor and with heavy infantry assault rifles coming up the passage in the probe's direction. Either these warriors had been in this state of preparedness when the Serhot Ran assault had begun, or they had shown an admirable response in their reaction time in gearing up so. Whichever it had been, it was the possibility of stiffer resistance as Moyrt and his platoon neered the command area that gave the lieutenant cause for concern.

With a movement of his head, Moyrt tracked the weapons reticule into the midst of the charging warriors who by their expressions were seeing his probe without full understanding. A flash and a muffled roar heard inside the suit marked the launch of a half dozen anti-personnel fragmentation missiles that raced up the corridor that Moyrt was still advancing through, made the impossibly sharp right turn following the path the probe had taken, and then the equally severe left onto the corridor occupied by both the probe and the norghil squad.

The image within the probe's video feed screen bounced violently and bleached as the missiles detonated amongst their targets. Severed limbs and weapons were still in mid-air when the image returned and the force of the blast rocked Moyrt's Nacht-Rau as it rolled back through the channeling confines of the ship's passageways.

Moyrt was at the scene of the remote-guided attack a moment later to find a pair of legless warriors attempting to drag themselves free of the horrific mess their squad had been reduced to. With ease of familiarity, Moyrt pointed his power armor's Nador rifle and sent a quick burst of energy bolts through the nearest maimed norghil. What the destabilized plasma rounds did not vaporize with their detonation, they scattered in a gristly spray that coated the bulkhead walls with smoking gore. A second burst from L'Yor, the second of Moyrt's element, similarly terminated the remaining legless norghil.

"Press on!", Moyrt barked at his platoon, not sure if they felt the same morbid urge as he to pause and take in the carnage that had just occurred, "Watch for activity from our rear! Follow me- the command center is just ahead!"

Moyrt's insistence to keep the drive on was neither impulsive nor single-minded. His probe had moved on already and was showing the path clear except for unarmed norghil who could be seen ducking into compartments or down adjoining passages to escape the impending danger against which they had no defense. Support units following the Serhot Ran assault would deal with these norghil. Moyrt was focused on the unobstructed path to his main objective and with exploiting the opportunity.

Destroyer 741

"Report!", Commander Pach bellowed as he pressed his considerable frame through the still opening aperture of the command bubble door, the ship's alarm system still sounding clearly in the corridor beyond. The commanding officer safetied and shouldered an infantry assault rifle he had brought with him as he reached the vantage point at the front of the command bubble from where he could see down onto the bridge.

"Lord", reported Dychi, "We've just lost all external communications, power, and life support feeds from The Factory support system. All internal systems are functioning normally and we are powering up the engines. All sections are reporting secure at action stations."

"This is it then.", Pach said, not entirely sure what it was fully yet. Reasons and motives for the unprovoked Te'Dak Tohl attack were irrelevant now. Pach only knew that the Trendok 145 was no longer a place for Destroyer 741 to be.

"Systems control, disengage from all moorings and Factory support umbilicals- secure all hatches and airlocks. Helm, back us off from the slip as soon as moorings are clear- harbor speed."

"Yes, Lord.", replied the helmsman.

"Give me a visual, right.", Pach ordered.

The viewscreen flashed to an image of the interior of the spacedock. At first glance, all seemed in order within the great chamber. Vessels all stood secure at their slips, precisely where they had been for days.

Only upon closer scrutiny did it become clear that the ships in port were without power.

Additionally, a line of Salan Class scout vessels was entering the spacedock through the open channel. As they came in single file, they seemed to shed fine particles of dark gray. Pach recognized them for what they were- Te'Dak Tohl mecha deploying in mass. Larger dots of gray, Transport Pods, emerged from the mother craft, dispersing in all directions.

"Fate be merciful, but I was right.", Pach mumbled only loud enough to be heard by himself, and then when he realized that there was no indication of his ship's departure he demanded more audibly, "Helm, why are we not moving?!"

"Lord", came the voice of the systems control officer, "We cannot disengage from moorings!"

"What?", Pach asked.

"The internal interlocks are under our control, but the external ones must be released by the dock master's control. We cannot free ourselves of the slip!"

"We can have our mecha shoot the moorings away.", suggested Dychi.

"And we'd have to open our hangar doors to let them out and then recover them.", Pach replied, dismissing the idea, "We'd risk letting the Te'Dak Tohl aboard. No… Helm, left thrusters- we'll tear out the moorings if we have to."

"Yes Lord, thrusting right."

A shudder ran through the ship as the maneuvering thrusters began to fight against the physical restraints to the vessel's movement.

"Lord", Dychi said forwardly, "If we cannot free ourselves of the moorings, then I would suspect The Factory gangways are not retracted either. Any force trying to board the ship that way will only have to contend with the airlock doors, which won't provide much of an obstacle."

"Too right", agreed Pach, "Triple our guard at those points, and do it quickly, Dychi. Warn them that we're likely to have unwelcome visitors."

"Yes, Lord."

The Trendok 145 Robotech Automated Factory

Lt. Egnas grimaced darkly as his first squad of Nacht-Rau suited warriors stood aside to reveal the dead-end to which the gangway tunnel led.

Operational planning had assured all of the purging units of Te'Dak Tohl shock troops that the surprise over the norghil would be complete. By this reasoning, Egnas and the other commanders in his company had anticipated easy access to the moored norghil vessels. Instead of an open airlock though, the platoon lieutenant found himself faced with sealed outer lock doors and the armored resistance they presented.

"They must have suspected something, lieutenant.", speculated the platoon's ranking sub-lieutenant, "They must have shut the doors before Artoc neutralized their systems."

"Impossible.", Egnas rejected, "Second squad, what's your status?"

The reply took a moment, "We have a sealed airlock hatch, lieutenant. Should we attempt to bypass the controls?"

"Negative", Egnas instructed, "There's no power to run the airlock door drive motors. Blow the doors off the track and make your entrance that way. Move smartly, we're already falling behind the other platoons in the timetable."

Egnas motioned to the squad assembled around him, "Fall back to this point and form a firing line."

Demonstratively, Egnas raised the left arm of his Nacht-Rau in the direction of the sealed airlock door, directing the suit's heavy plasma cannon at it. As a combat suit-clad warrior took position to either side of the lieutenant and three knelt to one knee in a similar line before him, the muzzle component of Egnas's plasma cannon extended to the firing position. The other warriors followed their leader's example and readied their own weapons.

"Ready.. Fire!"

Even with the image filtration built into the optics system of his Nacht-Rau, Egnas was blinded for a split second as the image washed out in a hazy green.. The picture returned almost immediately though, and showed a wall of smoke billowing back at the firing line. As the smoke enveloped the squad, Egnas's optics system compensated for the loss of effectiveness in the image intensifier by augmenting the image through the infra-red spectrum.

The line of kneeling Nacht-Rau before Egnas took shape in the same "cool" grey as the walls and deck of the gangway, showing that they were of the same temperature. Only their left forearms, still extended, glowed white from the heat of the plasma cannons that were now in the cooling and recharging cycle. Through the smoke, Egnas could make out the targeted airlock doors which infra-red showed glowing in patches of white where the destabilized plasma rounds had penetrated.

The deck of the gangway tube bucked violently and without warning beneath Egmas and his platoon, knocking several off their feet despite the broad-stance stability of the combat suits. The hard seal between the moored destroyer's hull and the gangway docking face was compromised by the movement and air began to shriek into the vacuum through the gaps.

Egmas had barely comprehended the significance of the first lurch when a second nearly tossed him from his feet.

The disbelief evident in his voice, the Serhot Ran lieutenant exclaimed, "-They have power!-. They're trying to break free! We must board before they tear loose of the moorings!"

A second volley would punch through, Egnas was sure of this as his heavy cannon showed a full charge status. The lieutenant's mind raced to explain the inconceivable fact that the norghil vessel still had power and a third jolt through the decks that formed cracks and fissures all along the gangway's interior surfaces reinforced that the operation had definitely deviated from plan.

"Ready… Fire!"

A spectacular cloud of white filled Egnas's viewer, and began to fade. Shards of the armored airlock doors were scattered about the gangway deck and embedded into the walls and ceiling, glowing hot like the crude, irregular hole that the second salvo had succeeded in blowing through them.

"First squad-.", Egnas began, preparing to order his unit through the breach.

He was cut short by the shrill tone of his Nacht-Rau's warning system and the brutal impact of the missiles it heralded. Egmas found himself flat on his back, the wind still rushing out of him from the force of the warhead explosions despite the fact that the Nacht-Rau had absorbed the brunt of the blow.

Egmas would need a moment to join it, but in his dazed state he was aware that an intense firefight had erupted over and all around him.

"Fire at will!", ordered Lt. Tehl from within the cockpit of the Glaug Officer's Combat Pod he had been assigned for this peculiar deviation from his standard duties. In the many years since his Awakening, and his time aboard Destroyer 741, Tehl had never been closer to actual, individual combat than passing warrior combatants in the corridors of the ship. Normally his duties found him replacing damaged electrical and computer components as part of Sub-Commander Gerrok's engineering staff.

But this day, he was tasked with defending his ship- and the day was starting off well.

"Drive them back!", howled the officer specialist, his throat burning with the force of his voice as he clamped down on the triggers firing the heavy impact cannons located on the Glaug's articulated weapon arms. His pulse raced and skin tingled with electricity as he raked energy fire over the flattened Te'Dak Tohl power armor and further on at those who were in the process of disorganized retreat.

Lt. Egnas's senses returned to him fully along with a keen awareness that his entire body ached from the violent blows dealt to his power armor. The tactical combat computer had brought up a status display screen of the Nacht-Rau suit to alert the pilot to the damage inflicted upon the mecha. At a glance, Egnas could see that his radar and all but the standard video optics of his suit were gone. Only the hip-mounted missile launchers and the rapid-fire pulse lasers standard to the Nacht-Rau remained functional- and the missiles were useless without a way to aim and guide them.

More immediate problems asserted themselves as Egnas watched a Regult, a norghil Regult, step over him, its descending right foot coming down heavily on the right shoulder of his armor suit causing it to groan under the weight.

Another Regult foot came down squarely on the Nacht-Rau's chest.

The norghil were advancing. Advancing against his warriors, Egnas realized as he felt the severe burn of indignation rushing through him. The battle was shifting to the control of the norghil, Egnas sensed, and it could be lost completely if he did not act quickly.

Sub-lieutenant Apre watched between bursts of fire from his Nador rifle as the battle began to spill out into the dockyard area. Of the three gangways between The Factory and the norghil destroyer that the platoon had been assigned to help secure, only the access point farthest forward was not hemorrhaging norghil mecha. The ferocity of the fusillade of particle beam fire and missiles pouring from the counterattacking norghil onto the Te'Dak Tohl squad trying to stem the flow showed that they would not be satisfied with simply hurling back the assault teams.

These norghil meant to fight.

From the amidships gangway, another pair of Regults with mounted short-range missile pods emerged under the cover of their own wildly firing particle beam cannons. Both mecha were lost for a moment behind a veil of white burn vapor as three distinct volleys of missiles erupted from their launchers and crossed the docking area into the liquefying Te'Dak Tohl positions. The combination punch of alternating armor-piercing and plasma-napalm warhead missiles savaged the exposed Nacht-Rau suited warriors. As the assault team continued to fall back grudgingly for cover Apre found it difficult to distinguish between the shriek of damaged communications systems and the screams of warriors grievously injur Apre took snap aim with his heavy plasma cannon and fired the weapon, striking the forward Regult a glancing blow along its left flank. The power of the weapon's energy bolt combined with the inherent weakness of the Regult's armor was more than enough to make the attack lethal. The norghil combat pod shattered in white flame at the seams, the missile launchers mounted atop the rounded body of the mecha flying upward and away with enough force to bounce off the high ceiling of the chamber.

The second Regult dropped into a squat behind the remains of two comrades of his own and a mangled Nacht-Rau that had fallen in the opening moments of the skirmish. Had Apre, or any of his warriors, been armed to contend with mecha, a shower of armor-piercing missiles would have easily dealt with the Regult. The operational plan had been based on there being no functioning norghil mecha though- so only fragmentation missiles had been issued to the assault teams. Their blast could stagger the Regults, but would inflict no damage of any significance.

The Regult rose just enough from its macabre defilade to show its glowing red sensor eye. Apre's Nacht-Rau warned him that he was being targeted by a laser designator. Exposed, the sub-lieutenant tried to get in the first shot before diving off to his right.

Apre saw the trailing bolts of the burst from his Nador contact the Regult's right missile launcher as he dove to evade the missiles his adversary had fired simultaneously. He caught a glimpse of the beginnings of a secondary explosion as one, perhaps two armor-piercing missiles from the Regult struck and penetrated the missile launchers in the Nacht-Rau's left shoulder. As designed, the compromised launcher system exploded outwards, toppling the mecha end-over-end with the blast but causing no more injury to the pilot than a pummeling and shocked eardrums.

Unaware of what he was doing in any conscious sense, Apre righted himself on the deck and finding that he was still in possession of his Nador rifle, began to spray suppressing fire in the direction of the Regult.

Only there was more than one now.

Two of the same configuration, missile pods already at work, had just emerged from the amidships gantry with a standard Regult, and a Glaug trailing as Apre watched. The density of enfilade from both the forward and aft gangways was increasing across the span of the deck as the norghil pressed forward with a determination that Apre had not witnessed in the warrior caste before. It was at that moment that Apre realized that his wounded and dead now outnumbered the combat-effective who in many cases sheltered behind them.

"Assault Team Four, report your status.", came the calm voice of the command staff, located deep within The Factory. The voice was calm, but there was an underlying urgency that caught Apre's attention. Apre had no idea of how long Command had been calling. The skirmish, though perhaps no more than two minutes old, seemed to have dragged on for an eternity.

"Four to Command", Apre replied, as he made a quick scoot under covering fire from his own Nador to defilade provided by another fallen Nacht-Rau, "We are taking heavy fire from defending norghil forces. Request immediate support! The situation is deteriorating and we're losing containment."

There was a pause, "Say again, Four. Norghil units should be inactive."

"Repeat, Command- We are taking heavy fire!", Apre said as his communications status display informed him that the command center was drawing a live audio and video feed from his suit.

"Message acknowledged, Four.", Command replied, "Stabilize the situation. Reinforcement is being dispatched at this time."

"Negative.", Apre rejected, "We are combat ineffective.- We must withdraw!"

"Hold your position, Four. We will advise.", Command replied.

Apre took stock of his withering unit in contrast to the building numbers of the norghil. Their defense that had been faltering now teetered on the verge of complete collapse. There was simply no offsetting the norghil's numbers and recovering the initiative from where Apre stood.

With no sign of Lt. Egmas, and no indication that he was even alive- the command decision fell on Apre.

"Four, this is Command. Stand by. Reinforcements are on their way.", came the same calm, detached voice, "Four, this is Command. What's your status?"

Apre ignored the command center, rather turning his attention to his decimated unit.

"Collapse back into The Factory!", Apre ordered, disgusted at the sound of his own words, "We'll hold our defense there!"

Destroyer 741

"Lord", Dychi announced jubilantly and with relief to his words, "We've repulsed the Te'Dak Tohl attack."

"For now", Pach said contemplatively, "-But you can be certain that every warrior they can muster is converging upon us, and properly equipped. Our secret is out in the open now.."

"I'm afraid I agree, Lord.", Dychi said, looking to the viewscreen which still displayed the interior of the space dock and the disbursal of Te'Dak Tohl from the invading Salan scout ships.

The ship's hull groaned again as the maneuvering thrusters fought against the resistance of the moorings. Pach scowled as a shudder in the deck turned to a violent rattle that shook the plates in their fittings.

"We're going to tear ourselves to pieces this way.", Pach announced, "Perhaps we can sheer the moorings away. Helm, engage the auxiliary engines- back twenty percent."

"Answering back twenty percent.", acknowledged the helmsman.

The vibrations through the deck became more violent, increasing to a bucking of the ship beneath the crew's feet. Metal creaked and then howled as additional stress was placed on already stressed frames and joints.

Abruptly, the ship lurched in reverse causing all who were on their feet to grab desperately at anything that would steady them. A second jolt threw all in the other direction as the ship's motion was again arrested.

It had been movement though, and Pach allowed himself to show guarded hope to his subordinates as he said, "We're breaking free, Dychi. Recall our units from aboard The Factory, and quickly. Helm, forward twenty percent. Let's see if the moorings give out before the hull."

"Ahead twenty percent."

The Trendok 145 Robotech Automated Factory

The groan of fatigued metal was replaced in an instant with three explosive booms that bounced the force of defending mecha where it stood. Deck plates in the dockyard sprang free and formed oddly geometric fissures in the floor as underlying supports buckled and broke under the sheering force of the withdrawing warship.

Lt. Tehl sensed the reaction of the junior and sub-officers who had come out to reinforce Destroyer 741's mecha and who were now working at arranging heaps of destroyed mecha into defensible firing positions from which to fend off the next Te'Dak Tohl effort. Every face showed apprehension as the deck heaved beneath them and the atmosphere began to escape into the vacuum of the spacedock through opening gaps in the deck and mooring systems.

Tehl was feeling it too- the fear of being left behind.

"All units, return to the ship.", came the voice of the ship's communications officer- relieving Tehl of the responsibility to decide what would happen next, "Repeat, all units fall back immediately."

"Withdraw!", Tehl barked, ascending the order and reinforcing in the minds of the defenders as well as his own that Destroyer 741 was departing.

The defense of the three gantries began to dissolve rapidly in a rush for the tunnels that were now warping with the movement of the ship. With no particular order of withdrawal, the scramble became a mixed mob of Regults and defenders on foot, pressing through the airlock in a flight for safety.

As Tehl surrendered his own position to the ordered retreat, a missile streaked by his Glaug Pod, followed by another, and then a half dozen more. The weapons snaked into the mass of retreating officers and mecha, sending bits of all showering down as the explosions tore flesh and metal alike.

Tehl's attention was drawn back to the direction from which the missiles had originated- the corridor into which the Te'Dak Tohl had escaped minutes before. They had returned now, and in greater number. The formidable power armor suits that the ship's defenders had repelled in the first skirmish had been reinforced by more of the same kind with supporting units of Regults bearing missile pods.

There was little tactical thought shown in the movements of the Te'Dak Tohl, as they advanced with aggressive speed across the ruptured expanse of battle-littered deck. Quarters were too close with little cover to exploit. It was clear that this was to be a contest of brute force- and this time the Te'Dak Tohl had brought sufficient force to bear.

An armor-piercing missile struck Tehl's Glaug along the left side, blowing away the weapons arm at the shoulder junction and showering the pilot within the cockpit with sparks as the power system surged and overloaded various systems. Smoke began to cloud the air around Tehl as wiring insulation burned, but the lieutenant was unaware of this. His attention focused on staving off the Te'Dak Tohl onslaught. His mecha was failing, its alarms warning of its impending systemic collapse- but Tehl was confident he could still fight, if only for moments longer.

Each moment spent engaging the Te'Dak Tohl was a moment more for the ship's defenders to make their escape though.

Mecha and warriors were cut down on both sides as the intensity of fire increased and the initiative swung back to the Te'Dak Tohl. The approaches to the gangways leading back to Destroyer 741, natural and unavoidable chock points, were becoming obstructed with dead and dying warriors and with the wreckage of Regults that had been easy targets for the enforcers.

Lt. Tehl became aware that he was by no means alone in trading defense of the ship for the chance of safe return to it.

Officers and sub-officers who like he were normally relegated to duties aboard ship and in relative safety now placed themselves as shields between their escaping shipmates and the advancing Te'Dak Tohl. Less than a dozen still operated functioning Regults, most were on foot and some without even standard body armor. Cover was scarce but was shared where it could be found. Seemingly oblivious to the clear ineffectiveness of infantry weapons on the Te'Dak Tohl mecha and combat suits, the defenders maintained an admirable volume of outgoing fire.

The advance could not be stopped, but it was being slowed.

Tehl directed his single remaining heavy impact cannon at the chest of a charging Nacht-Rau, drawing down a straight line and opening fire when there was no chance of missing. He still had missiles, he knew, but the targeting system was non-responsive. His guns still functioned though, and at the range to which the enemy had closed- a mere stone's throw it seemed- they were the best option.

A thick volley of missiles showered Tehl's position from two Te'Dak Tohl Regults at that moment, temporarily obscuring Tehl's field of view as flame belched outward from a target struck somewhere to the lieutenant's left. There was also a sudden unsteadiness in the stance of his Glaug as the computer warned him with an audible tone of some damage that he hadn't the time to assess.

Somehow Tehl's guns still functioned though, and he meant to use them.

Directly before him on the deck in front of the defensive position, a severed arm lay still clutching an assault rifle. Convulsively, the finger repeatedly pulled the trigger, sending blasts of particle beam energy from the weapon's muzzle in the vague direction of the Te'Dak Tohl.

Destroyer 741

"Helm becoming responsive now", announced the helmsman, "We're free!"

The ship gave one last shuddering heave and then the vibrations dropped away to nothing as The Factory's moorings lost the battle to hold the destroyer at port. The tightness in Pach's chest began to ease as his vessel regained mobility.

There was a chance at escape now and the mood on the command deck reflected it. No defeatist words had been uttered, but in the previous minutes the air had become heavy with the expectation that a final and likely futile stand would have to be made by all at their posts.

With the words that Destroyer 741 had broken its bonds, the fatalism dissipated instantly.

"Helm, bring us about and make for the channel.", Pach ordered feeling the ship shrug off the burden of its restraints, "Increase to half speed."

"Answering ahead half, yawing right.", replied the helmsman.

The image on the viewscreen showed the slip falling away as the ship drew away. From within, through observation ports and the severed lengths of gantry tunnel the flash of weapons fire could still be seen as a battle continued to rage there. Clearly the escape in progress was not an escape for all.

"Lord, we must still have warriors aboard The Factory.", Dychi observed, his voice somber and teeming with the dilemma.

Pach's response was immediate, though tainted with a tone of sincere regret as he repeated his orders.

"Helm, steer for the space channel. We must clear this bay before they close the doors and seal us in."

Dychi's expression asked the question that discipline would not let pass his lips.

"We can do nothing for them, Dychi.", Pach said bitterly, and as much to reassure himself as his executive officer added the justification, "Jeopardizing the ship would only make their sacrifice a hollow one."

"Yes, Lord.", replied Dychi.

Pach sympathized with the moral anguish that Dychi felt at the injustice handed down by Fate, for it was his before it was Dychi's. The commander considered saying something more when in reflecting on the executive officer's simple reply he recognized something in his junior's tone. The pain and shame had come through clearly, but just beneath there was an infusion of rage.

Somehow it did not fit Dychi in Pach's mind- the hint of so primal an emotion from a normally cool personality. Its coming had been inevitable though. Pach knew all too well that every warrior was eventually forced to grapple with that which inspired hate in them.

It was a defining moment also though when a warrior decided on how he would act in the face of the struggle.

"Conn, Sensor Control.", came the report from the command deck below, "Three scout vessels, bearing zero-five-one relative- closing on intercept course."

"Visual!", ordered Pach, angry with himself at having become distracted.

The image of the battle-riddled mooring slip was replaced on the viewscreen by one of three small Te'Dak Tohl vessels moving into position to place themselves between Destroyer 741 and the channel to open space.

No sooner had the image taken the viewscreen than a highly concentrated barrage erupted from the gun batteries of the scout vessels.

Destroyer 741 shook under the rapid landing of salvos fired at point-blank range.

"Weapons Control, return fire! All batteries engage as they come to bear.", Pach instructed, "Concentrate your fire on one vessel at a time. -And activate all missile batteries. Disable target identification discriminators- there are no allies out there."

"Yes, Lord."

All along the destroyer's sleek hull, gun port irises opened and the ship bore its teeth. Missile and particle beam turrets ran out into battery and swiftly trained in on the closest Te'Dak Tohl Salan scout ship.

Sensing correctly that they were heavily outmatched in firepower, the three scout vessels broke formation to attempt evasion. Within the confines of the space dock and running at reduced speeds, the scouts had no chance at successful maneuvering. The few moments of advantage they had enjoyed over the sole destroyer ended as the lay of its guns settled on the first selected target.

Destroyer 741's guns erupted in a nearly full broadside salvo from its dorsal and right flank batteries. The volume of fire chewed ravenously through the lightly armored hull of the scout, blasting out chunks of the outer plating first before boring out portions of the interior compartments. As the concentrated fusillade walked aft along the vessel's hull, the left drive engine took a hit through a plasma converter and ruptured in a staggering explosion.

Badly damaged, the Salan scout rolled away from its ravaged side- tumbling helplessly in a cloud of its own smoke and debris.

"They seem to be reconsidering their tactical situation, Lord.", Dychi said with no attempt to conceal his pleasure at the outcome of the counterstrike.

Destroyer 741's guns were now tracking in on another fleeing scout vessel and began to pound it relentlessly. Even as the scout began to come apart, a steady stream of Te'Dak Tohl mecha came off its hangar decks. Perhaps an order had been given to abandon ship, or perhaps these warriors had taken the initiative themselves. Maybe the Te'Dak Tohl commander in desperation had elected to hurl the only asset in which he outmatched the destroyer at his enemy in hopes of thwarting the attack on his vessel and making an escape.

Destroyer 741 replied overwhelmingly with swarms of missiles that sought and found their targets in a wave of single-minded lethality.

As devastation swept the Te'Dak Tohl ranks, Pach sensed the precise moment when the pilots of the mecha and fighters launched to fend off his ship realized that the odds did not favor them. Groups that had not quite formed up to squadrons broke frantically and attempted to flee the onslaught of missiles. Some succeeded, but most did not and in their destruction added to the debris of combat that spun in all directions in the weightless battlespace.

"It would seem they're in a drastic state of re-evaluation, Dychi.", Pach agreed, "Though every Te'Dak Tohl warship in their fleet must know by now that we're not laying down to die quite as easily as they hoped. They'll be waiting for us the moment we clear the channel's outer space doors."

As Pach and Dychi continued to watch the decimation of the Te'Dak Tohl assault force in their ship's path, a concentrated barrage of particle beam fire swept over first the leading Te'Dak Tohl Salan scout in retreat, and then the one directly astern. The two vessels began to return meager fire by comparison at Destroyer 818 as it rounded the central mooring pillar of the spacedock under its own power.

"Good work Sylas!", Pach roared, slamming his fist jubilantly into the concave surface of the command bubble's acrylic dome as the second scout vessel under fire erupted in a rapid succession of internal explosions. Burning debris was hurled in every direction and through the mass of its own retreating mecha.

"Communications, open a channel with Destroyer 818 and Destroyer 1017."

"Yes, Lord."

The viewscreen divided evenly between the progressing carnage now being inflicted by the joint efforts of the two destroyers and an image of Sylas in the command bubble of his own vessel.

"You seemed to be in need of assistance, Pach.", Sylas said smugly, "So I took it upon myself to provide it."

"Your initiative is appreciated.", Pach replied, "Traffic is heavy here, but it's what's outside of The Factory that has me concerned. We can't possibly fight our way through the entire Te'Dak Tohl fleet."

"Nor should we try.", Sylas replied, "I've not been able to raise Gymalt on communications. Destroyer 1017 may have been overrun."

"Quite possibly", Pach conceded grimly, "We must fend for ourselves now. Once we clear the space doors, we're going to need to escape rapidly- that means going into fold as soon as our navigational systems can establish a position fix."

"Perhaps we can persuade the Te'Dak Tohl to reactivate the data feed from The Factory.", Sylas suggested wryly, "No?"

"Not likely.", Pach replied, "I will be plotting for Murhan-Thade 4, Sylas- I can't order you to-."

"I'll be there.", Sylas agreed, "No doubt the Te'Dak Tohl have a plan for our warriors there similar to the one they had for us. I don't intend to allow this treachery to go unanswered."

"First we recover our warriors.", Pach said, "Then we decide what to do next. With Fate's mercy, we'll have warriors left to recover."

Sylas's head turned as he received some unheard information from his executive officer. He then looked back to Pach and said, "You're closer to the space doors, Pach. I'll cover your escape from the rear- try to keep some of this mecha off you. We'll follow you directly- though don't wait for us to clear dock to fold. Get your ship out of here."

Pach nodded, "Keep this channel open and linked to your navigational system. We'll transmit our current position as soon as we clear the doors. If something should happen to us, that will give you a good enough point of origin to plot the fold to the vicinity of Murhan-Thade 4."

Sylas gave a nod of agreement, "Enough talk. Fate keep you."

"And you as well."

Pach turned his attention back to the navigation of Destroyer 741, the space doors that gave way to the channel to freedom were looming large in the viewscreen now. The commander couldn't see the stars beyond just yet, but he would shortly. That, he knew, also meant that anyone determined to do his vessel harm from outside The Factory would be able to see him as well- and more frightfully would be able to make an easy target of Destroyer 741 in the confines of the channel.

They would have to plow through the punishment, Pach knew. Without a stellar position fix, there could be no fold to escape- and to establish a fix, the ship had to be clear of The Factory. It would only take a matter of seconds, but in those seconds the ship would be vulnerable- and the Te'Dak Tohl had ample firepower to exploit vulnerability.

"Power up the fold system and prepare to plot a profile for Murhan-Thade 4.", Pach instructed.

"Yes, Lord.", complied Dychi- his pallid skin revealing that despite his inexperience, he too was contemplating the many perils that the next minutes held. Unlike Pach, he had yet to develop the thick skin required to conceal his anxieties.

"As soon as we have a position fix, compute the plot and execute.", Pach ordered, "We'll try some radical course changes as soon as we clear the doors. I suspect that the Te'Dak Tohl will want to avoid damaging The Factory. Throwing some extreme turns into the mix may hinder their fire control sufficiently to give us the time we need."

The Trendok 145 Robotech Automated Factory

Sub-Lieutenant Apre moved systematically from one crumpled norghil form to the next, kicking each sharply with the foot of his Nacht-Rau to verify that each was indeed dead. Some required no real examination as the severity of their wounds left no doubt as to their condition, but Apre checked anyway.

The heavy report of a single shot fired from another Nacht-Rau's Nador rifle drew Apre's attention for a moment as a warrior in his squad found what he had been hoping for himself- a norghil with just enough life left in him to require one last shot.

Apre had no such luck though. He reached the last norghil warrior in his immediate vicinity who had not been checked by the milling Te'Dak Tohl warriors and found that the slain was without the upper left portion of his skull.

"Who would have thought norghil could cause such trouble?", scoffed another sub-lieutenant whose platoon had been sent to reinforce Apre's. There was something condescending in the other sub-lieutenant's tone, which Apre chose to ignore.

Apre mused to himself that his counterpart would have been neither smug, nor in possession of pristine, unscarred power armor had he been at the front of the assault as Apre had when the norghil had sprung their surprise. There was no point in trying to explain that though, Apre knew, and in truth he had no desire to try.

Apre walked his Nacht-Rau around the burning heaps that had been a rebellious norghil Glaug Officer's Pod and three Regults to gaze out through the open gantry port that had connected The Factory to the renegade warship that had made such a spectacle in its escape. The gantry itself, where the intense skirmish had begun, looked every bit the site of a desperate battle. The portal's emergency atmosphere retention field had engaged to hold the air in the dockyard back from the ravenous vacuum, but Apre could see clearly out to where the gangway terminated in a mauled wreck of torn and twisted metal.

Looking out into the spacedock itself, Apre could no longer even see the vessel that had slipped away, it having rounded the docking pillar at the center of the massive bay. Only flashes of battle and the occasional stray beam of particle energy suggested that it was somewhere beyond sight, carrying on the struggle to escape it had begun with Apre and his platoon.

Turning and glancing back over the deck, strewn as it was with dead from both sides in relatively equal numbers, Apre found himself smiling ever so slightly. The norghil would likely not survive the hour, but there was something admirable in their attempt that made it impossible to wish them destroyed entirely.

Artoc

"Diagnostic check complete, the failure mode mechanism is functioning properly, General Krymina.", came the report from the ship's weapons systems officer.

"Then why are there two functional norghil warships fighting a battle against my warriors in my Factory?!", raged Krymina.

Caldettas hesitated, then suggested thoughtfully, "If the device is working, then the malfunction is clearly not with Artoc- but with the norghil vessels."

"Their mecha is operational as well.", Krymina pointed out, "That's not malfunction- that is adaptation. Adaptation breeds evolution, Caldettas- if it is successful. I don't wish to see an evolved breed of norghil just as we're launching a campaign against their finest commander. I want those two vessels destroyed, and every member of their crews killed to the warrior."

"Yes, General.", Caldettas obeyed, "Our ships will open fire the moment they've cleared the spacedock doors."

"Firing will commence as soon as our ships have a target.", Krymina corrected, asserting herself.

Conscious of the need for delicacy in proceeding, Caldettas lowered his voice to not be overheard on the command deck below, "General Krymina- if we destroy them too near or in the channel, The Factory could be damaged- or at least some of the vessels within the spacedock."

"You have your orders, Caldettas.", Krymina said in a sharp tone that told the executive officer that the discussion was terminated, "Carry them out."

"Yes, General.", Caldettas replied, "Operations Control, raise communications with the commander of the nearest destroyer squadron to The Factory-."

Destroyer 741

A field of countless stars beckoned on the main viewscreen beyond the now visible outer lock of The Factory's spacedock channel. Pach felt them drawing him, or rather perceived a force driving him on toward them- but well-learned prudence held fast control on the urge to dash to the escape.

Criss-crossing between the universe's boundless refuge and Destroyer 741 were numerous, marauding Te'Dak Tohl cruisers to be seen through the frame of the open space doors and without a doubt countless more unseen and beyond, also lying in wait for the first clear shot at the escaping vessel.

"We're in the channel.", Dychi announced, "Forty-five seconds to space doors at present speed."

"Steady on this course and speed.", Pach instructed, "Fold system status?"

"System indicates nominal function.", Dychi replied, "We just need a navigational fix to complete spacefold calculations."

As a Te'Dak Tohl destroyer crossed before the space door threshold at a cautious range, the clusters of gun batteries along its left flank unleashed a fusillade of particle beams down the throat of the channel being traversed by Destroyer 741. The images on the viewscreen bleached repeatedly as the ship's newly restored, armored hull began to absorb direct fire from its freely navigating adversary. Long, shallow gashes appeared along the long, sweeping outer skin of the upper decks as most of the salvos struck glancing blows along the vessel's long axis.

"Damage report!", Pach ordered as the shaking of blasts along his ship subsided and the viewscreen returned to normal function to reveal that the attacking destroyer had passed out of firing position.

"No compromise to the pressure hull.", Dychi reported as the automated ship's status system gave a quick summary of the wounds received, "Forward gun batteries eight and twelve are without power."

"Another one-.", Pach noted as from the opposite direction of the first destroyer, a second passed across the opening of the space doors, firing in as had the first with the same blinding effects. The blindness inflicted was strictly visual though.

"Weapons Control, return fire on that vessel- all applicable batteries."

The second enfilade continued with the same intensity as the first, and like the first lasted but a few jarring seconds. When the viewscreen cleared for the second time, the attacker, again, was gone. Commander Pach was heartened to see however that the normally clean, star-dotted field of space beyond was marred by smudges that were the ejected matter and vented gasses of a warship on the receiving end of particle beam fire.

It was not a victory, but Destroyer 741 had at least drawn blood against a comparable enemy.

Gratifying as the thought was to the commander that he had a Te'Dak Tohl counterpart who was at this moment assessing his own wounds, the tactical situation did not elude Pach. Te'Dak Tohl gunnery director crews were at this very moment making fine adjustments to train their weapons on the static target area of The Factory channel's outer lock through which Destroyer 741 would have to pass. A successful attack, meaning a devastating one on the fleeing destroyer, would not require any great demonstration of gunnery skill- it would simply require the Te'Dak Tohl to fill an identified area with a sufficient volume of fire.

"We're not going to last long enough to make a stellar position fix", Pach said darkly.

Dychi felt something heavy and solid form in his gut at the announcement.

"-Unless.", Pach continued, "Unless we can shock them into a moment's pause. Time to clear space doors?"

"Thirty-eight seconds, present speed.", Dychi replied.

Pach's face grew stoic as with a realization of a clear path of action.

"Weapons Control, initiate main particle beam firing sequence.- Snapshot firing procedures.", the commanding officer instructed, "As we clear the doors we'll take a shot at the first cluster of vessels we see and rush them. That may stun them and afford us enough time for our position fix.."

"Initiating firing sequence.", replied the fire control officer.

"Lord", Dychi warned, "if the main particle beam cannon should take a direct hit to one of the power nodes as it's building to critical mass-."

Dychi's concern was not unwarranted. As the gun prepared to fire, the electrostatic nodes of the linear particle accelerator rails- the element of the powerful Ma'Kral particle beam cannon that provided final focus and direction for the energy bolt- would be exposed. Within the confines of the channel and providing minimal target aspect to the Te'Dak Tohl, Destroyer 741 was almost certain to receive fire bow-on and presenting a heightened threat to the open gun aperture.

Pach nodded his acknowledgment of the risk, "Then we'll be amongst the first to know, Dychi."

Complex processes, not all visible began to occur throughout Destroyer 741 to facilitate the execution of a single order.

In the lower decks, forward of the ship's mid-section, crew passages and air ducts sealed- effectively bisecting the vessel at that point. Throughout the ship a subtle but distinct vibration ran through the deck plates as immense drive motors began to initiate the most noticeable change to the ship required in the firing of the weapon.

Along the long axis of the hull, from the very point of the bow to the amidships point, the vessel began to separate vertically, giving Destroyer 741 the appearance of some great beast opening it's maw to inflict a savage bite. The rift continued to broaden as the forward lower decks descended along massive guide tracks, creating a muzzle for the powerful energy weapon that could have easily swallowed many an enemy.

Along the length of the exposed gun pylons now formed by the upper and lower separated portions of the ship, electrostatic particle accelerator nodes began to charge, drawing to the output limit of the ship's main protoculture reactor. Power sufficient to heat, light, and sustain entire civilizations flowed freely into the nodes- setting them alight with a phosphorescent blue glow as they charged. The nodes charged, and continued to charge, building to the point where free streams of energy arced in shimmering blue veins from node to node and pylon to pylon.

"Final charging sequence at eighty percent.", Dychi announced, "Critical mass for firing in five seconds."

"Helm, engage main engines- ahead half!", Pach ordered, "Come left thirty degrees, up forty-five once we've cleared space doors!"

"Helm, affirmative, Lord."

"Weapons Control, stand-by for snapshot!"

"Weapons Control, affirmative!"

The remaining length of channel between the spacedock doors and Destroyer 741 shrank to nothing almost instantly as the main drive system came on line and hurled the vessel forward with controlled ease.

Destroyer 3251

"Heavy particle beam cannon is at full charge and ready, Lord.", announced the Weapons Control Officer from his post on the deck below the command bubble.

"Stand by", ordered Action Commander Godeah from the post above and to the rear, "Wait for the norghil vessel to clear the space doors before firing. Be cautious of your background, gunner, The Factory is not to be damaged."

"Understood, Lord."

Godeah waited patiently. His vessel stood level with the space doors from which the norghil vessel had to emerge at a range of just over three hundred artohls. Standing off from The Factory's outer channel at an oblique angle as his ship was, they would have an excellent shot at the norghil's broadside as the vessel cleared the doors

Godeah's squadron under his orders charged back and forth at a significantly closer range, running a zigzag screening pattern. The squadron would provide the single moment's distraction Godeah needed to lock his vessel's most powerful weapon on target and fire.

Though there was something unsporting in the exercise there was the unusual honor of being able to carry out an order handed down directly from General Krymina's command, and likely the commanding officer herself.

Godeah had met norghil commanders one-to-one in engagements before, and despite misconceptions popular among some Te'Dak Tohl commanders, he had seen genuine thought and skill to their battle tactics. The very fact that these norghil had circumvented the Artoc's ability to neutralize their ship's systems offered the promise of a challenge in battle.

Unfortunately his direct and explicit orders outweighed the lure to engage in meaningful contest. Godeah therefore maintained his vessel at station keeping, abreast of the doors-.

Laying in wait.

Perhaps more satisfying sport could be made of the second norghil destroyer that would follow.

"Stand by to fire.", ordered Godeah, sensing the approach of the moment.

Destroyer 741

"We're clearing the channel.", Dychi said as the viewscreen filled with stars and distant assemblies of vessels. The placidity of the scene was short-lived though as the expected attack from all directions commenced. Destroyer 741 shook mightily as all portions of the hull began to absorb the punishment of the Te'Dak Tohl's quickly-laid ambush.

Pach noticed the bulge of Dychi's knuckles as he gripped a structural frame tightly for support. It seemed as though the executive officer was intent on holding the ship together personally under the pounding it was receiving.

"Execute escape maneuver!", ordered Pach as the gun barrage continued to fill the viewscreen from all angles, "All batteries fire at will on targets of opportunity!"

"Lord, Sensor Control- destroyer bearing two-seven-two level! He's charged to fire!"

"Visual!", Pach ordered understanding the Sensor Officer clearly.

The image on the viewscreen changed, and between flashes of incoming and outgoing weapons fire Pach could easily make out what he had dreaded and expected to see. A Te'Dak Tohl destroyer stared him down in the bow-on aspect, the maw-like open gun muzzle of its heavy particle beam cannon alive with the leaping blue arcs of energy that signified the weapon was preparing to fire.

Pach felt no malice for the Te'Dak Tohl commander in what he expected would be his final moment. Had their roles been reversed, Pach was certain that he would have placed himself in that exact position and for the same reason. His adversary had Destroyer 741 squarely in his sights for the easy delivery of a killing blow.

But Pach did not have to accept Fate's judgment without a fight. Sometimes Fate respected and rewarded a challenge to its whims.

"Left flank batteries- concentrate your fire on that ship!"

Destroyer 741's left batteries, dorsal, flank, and ventral swung to with haste and zeroed in on the Te'Dak Tohl destroyer. At such close range, it was not so much a duel as a slugging match between contestants who technically were evenly matched. In a span of seconds, it was obvious to Pach that his ship was landing more blows- but that his opponent would land the decisive one.

A great plume of particle beam energy surged across the main viewscreen, though not at Destroyer 741 as Pach had expected at that moment.

The Te'Dak Tohl destroyer took the full force of a heavy particle beam from high on its right bow quarter and burned away before Pach's eyes with a culminating blast of vaporizing terilium alloy. Pach winced at the intensity of the explosion and wondered if another commander of either Alzyha or Bohen's fleet had found the method to overcoming the Te'Dak Tohl's debilitating failure mode device.

It did not matter significantly. Pach had what he needed- a moment's confusion to gain tactical advantage.

There was an indication of panic that seemed to ripple through the screen of remaining Te'Dak Tohl destroyers that was perceivable to those keen to sense it. Now under threat of attack from many directions, the Te'Dak Tohl commanders' attention was divided.

"Weapons Control, snapshot on targets coming to bear!", the commanding officer ordered with the urgency of the directive coming through clearly in the intensity of his words and tone.

"Commencing firing!"

As two Te'Dak Tohl sentries central to Destroyer 741's viewscreen banked and began to turn away from The Factory in an attempt at flight,, the vessel's main gun discharged with a blaze of radiant blue..

The lead Te'Dak Tohl destroyer dissolved into burning vapor that was washed away with the continuing stream of energy as its trailing counterpart escaped with a glancing blow from the same salvo that sheered away a substantial portion of its two lowest decks just forward of the engine nacelles. Like a creature gut-shot, the destroyer made an awkward escape with a jerkiness to its movements indicative of severe if not mortal wounds. A thick trail of smoke and burning materials spilled from the hull by decompression and secondary explosions left a grotesque grayish smear across the black fabric of space.

The tactical display screen showing a representation of the space around Destroyer 741 and all of the sensor contacts it contained revealed that the Te'Dak Tohl screen intended to contain the two escaping destroyers was breaking up in anticipation of further attack. The confusion was firmly in hold of them, but its grip would weaken quickly, Pach knew.

"Weapons Control", Pach instructed as the ship bucked under his feet at the impact of a particle beam blast from one of the fleeing Te'Dak Tohl, "Resume fire, all gun batteries at targets of opportunity. If we can keep them off for a few moments, we'll have the position fix we need to fold. –And secure the main battery for fold operations!"

"Yes, Lord.", complied the officer from the deck below.

The viewscreen filled with a frenzied exchange of outgoing and incoming fire as the ship's functional guns wildly engaged the Te'Dak Tohl whose reply was equally disconcerted. A brawl of warships was ensuing.

"Lord, Action Commander Gymalt hailing.", reported the communications officer.

"On screen.", Pach said.

The viewscreen segmented to allow for a picture of Gymalt to be displayed. The image danced with static, garbled, and then snapped back into clarity as the transmitting destroyer struggled through its own brutal assault.

"We've cleared a path for you, Pach.", Gymalt said quickly, his focused expression showing him keenly engaged in the conduct of his command even as he spoke, "Can you execute spacefold?"

"Yes.", Pach replied as Destroyer 741 shuddered through a rapid triple blast from somewhere high and aft, "Sylas and I are already plotting folds for Murhan-Thade 4."

"As am I.", Gymalt replied, "We'll speak again once we're away. The situation is demanding my immediate departure. Fate be with you."

The communications portion of the viewscreen closed as the icon representing Destroyer 1017 vanished from the tactical display, indicating that it had made its escape into the refuge of hyperspace.

"Navigation, spacefold plot to Murhan-Thade 4?!", Pach demanded. The Te'Dak Tohl were regaining their composure and the accuracy of their fire was reflecting it.

"Completing profile now, Lord!"

"Stand by to fold!", Pach ordered, "Communications, to Destroyer 818-. Sylas, have you been monitoring?"

Commander Sylas appeared where Gymalt had been only a moment before, "I have. We're powering up our fold system now. Don't wait for us to make your escape, the rear Te'Dak Tohl guard is regrouping into an attack formation."

Pach glanced at the tactical display to see that while a number of his adversaries had stayed on station to continue the savage melee with Destroyer 741 and Destroyer 818, four had broken away and were putting distance between themselves and their would-be prey as they formed up into a classic, staggered level diamond battle formation. Any advantage Destroyer 1017 had gained for the other two ships of its squadron was evaporating rapidly.

"We're departing now, then.", Pach said, "Helm, execute fold!"

Artoc

General Krymina watched with a silence unsettling to Caldettas as the second norghil destroyer turned away from The Factory and transformed into a burst of blue light that elongated into a streak, which in the blink of an eye vanished into nothing. The third norghil vessel followed suit almost as soon as the second had vanished, marking the final escape into hyperspace.

"Screen to standard.", Krymina ordered, the rage in her voice smoldering.

Caldettas offered his appraisal of the situation, despite the risk of further aggravating his superior.

"The damage to The Factory appears to be negligible, General- to its operational capacity at least. All other assault units are reporting progress either within or ahead of operational timetables. The loss of three norghil vessels is an insignificant factor in our overall plans."

"Alert the guard force at Murhan-Thade 4.", Krymina said, her voice even and seemingly detached from the anger she still projected nonverbally.

"Immediately, General.", Caldettas complied, "Though the norghil commanders will likely arrive too late to do any good to the warriors there- should that be where they are going."

"That is where they are going.", Krymina said with absolute certainty, "They have no other reasonable course before them. Without their warriors, these norghil officers are useless. They know it as well as I do. We can still use their interdependency against them."

"If they are bound for Murhan-Thade 4, General, they will not escape a second time.", Caldettas assured her.

"They are.", Krymina replied, her anger fading- or at least retreating from the surface, "And no, they won't. The unweaving of any fabric begins with a single strand of thread. I have no intention of indulging in carelessness over even a minor detail at this point."

Pritan Cardun

General Alzyha watched fear spread on the bridge, below the command bubble, as the forward and aft compartment doors were blown inwards off their tracks. Officers who had stood by their posts without question or suggestion of flight and armed with side arms and light infantry rifles fired desperately from insubstantial cover provided by their otherwise useless duty stations.

There was fear- terror even- but no panic.

The life of every Zentraedi was overshadowed by death: the witnessing of it, the dispensing of it, and the certainty of eventually facing it. What separated this final grapple with death from the ultimate moment of so many other warriors' lives was the form that death had chosen to take. One expected to see Zentraedi fall to the relentless Invid- but not to other Zentraedi.

Without concern, and justifiably so, the bulky, armored form of a Te'Dak Tohl combat suit stepped through the forward compartment door, its large rifle raised before it. The power armor absorbed the combined fire from a number of officers and staff, accepting the trivial damage without visible effect.

The Nacht-Rau, followed by a pair of warriors identically equipped, seemed to survey the compartment assessing the choice of targets. A selection was made, the Nador rifle directed, and a single energy bolt lit the dimly illuminated command center in its firing. The energy round designed to penetrate thick armor before exploding instead connected with only Zentraedi flesh and bone.

Alzyha watched most of the upper chest and right arm of his fleet navigator vanish in a burning spray. The parts that remained were tossed randomly by the explosion and vanished into the murk of the command deck.

If at that moment Alzyha had seen the semi-organized defense of his command deck staff collapse into panic and disarray, it would have been understandable.

He did not though.

Admirably, and with the bravery of those who recognized themselves as inescapably doomed- officers and sub-officers held their positions at posts where they had always faced death in a more removed sense. Rifles were fired until their energy clips ran dry, were reloaded, and fired dry again.

All the while, the three Nacht-Rau at the head of the compartment joined by three from the rear now moved methodically through- dispatching Alzyha's warriors one single shot at a time.

A muffled burst of the same energy weapon fire came from somewhere outside of the command bubble, from within the passageways aft. Posted guards could be heard returning fire- the lighter report of their weapons being lost under the heavier of the Te'Dak Tohl. Shouts of alarm and screams could be heard intermingled in the exchange, but with each burst from a Nador rifle the cries of the defenders became fewer and more distant.

"Lord, we should make an attempt to rally what officers we can.", advised Sub-General Brenik, who had appeared at the command bubble as promptly to stand by his superior's side at the first indication of trouble. Brenik's voice told Alzyha that he knew the futility of his suggestion- but ever the warrior, he would fight to the last moment regardless of the odds against him.

Alzyha did not reply as the command bubble was illuminated in strobe by the firefight in the command center below. Accurately, the melee had quickly deteriorated from an actual fight to something more akin to a mass execution. Resistance was fading rapidly.

"Lord", persisted Brenik, "it is no longer safe here."

Almost as to support Brenik's point, there was a call of warning from the two guards posted immediately outside the command bubble door followed by the crackling, rapid fire of their rifles. In reply came the heavier sound now unmistakably associated with the energy weapons of the Te'Dak Tohl power armor.

"This is our place, Brenik.", Alzyha said coolly- his voice perfectly calm, "We stand here."

Brenik snatched an assault rifle from off the deck where he had placed it minutes before, and released the firing safety. His lord had decided that they would die at their post, but Brenik would make his best effort to take down as many Te'Dak Tohl as Fate's favor would grant him before he died.

The door at the rear of the command bubble opened and was filled by a form identical to those wreaking havoc on the bridge below. Brenik pointed his rifle and fired a hastily aimed burst before he was cut down by two plasma bolts through the chest, which effectively disintegrated his body mass between his shoulders and waist.

The sub-general's weapon clattered across the deck, coming to rest near General Alzyha's feet.

The Nacht-Rau power armor stepped through the doorway, leveling its Nador at Alzyha. For a moment, Alzyha stared down his armored adversary, wiping away at the same time a spllattering of scalding-hot gore that had sprayed him with Brenik's grotesque demise.

Calmly, almost casually, Alzyha stooped and picked up the rifle that had come to rest on the deck before him. This was his post and it was his duty to defend it.

"Victory, or honorable death."

As the squad of Te'Dak Tohl warriors in their Nacht-Rau combat suits completed their work on the command deck of the Pritan Cardun, they gave no special notice to the brief flash of Nador rifle fire from the command bubble above.

Murhan-Thade 4

Sub-Lieutenant Koso felt more confined than he normally did within the isolated world of his Regult. His viewer was filled by the rear of Hedra's new Glaug Officer's Pod, a material benefit of his promotion to platoon lieutenant.

Koso had become aware shortly after his platoon had loaded aboard the transport which was now conveying them to the planet's surface that in closing the hatch to his Regult he had achieved the first moment of relative solitude that he had experienced in days. It should have seemed an escape to him; to not be looking another warrior in the face regardless of which direction he turned, or to have to breathe the odors of so many bodies barracked in close proximity to one another.

Koso knew that the tiny cockpit of his mecha should have been an escape from the claustrophobia of these things, but he did not feel the relief he expected in the least.

Perhaps it was that the mechanical shell of the Regult only provided a buffer from the same overcrowding that Koso and the other warriors around him had come to know on the journey to this alien world. The conditions had continued even in the process of the landing operation.

In addition to Hedra's full platoon of warriors, an additional two squads of Regult Combat Pods had been loaded aboard the saucer-like landing craft. Where gaps between mecha could be found, infantry had been squeezed in bearing full weapons and packs- effectively eliminating any perceivable open space in the transport pod's cargo bay, and at the same time grossly overloading the vehicle.

The real implications of the overloading of the transport went deeper than an unpleasant experience in transit to the surface of Murhan-Thade 4. Koso had felt the constant buffeting of the craft struggling against its own weight and against the thickening gravity and atmosphere on its rapid descent. On several occasions, the deck had seemed to drop out from beneath the feet of all- not an unusual occurrence during a combat insertion- but the length of the perceived freefall had caused more than a few novice warriors to cry out in alarm.

The outbursts had been a cause of amusement for the elder warriors aboard and had been ridiculed accordingly- but this was a distraction pursued by the senior combatants to help them ignore the clear and unnecessary peril that they were in.

"Turning on final approach.", came the voice of the pilot, heard by all in the transport pod, "Thirty seconds."

The pilot's voice told of his own great concern and of the relief he felt at the prospect of landing his grossly overburdened craft. Koso found himself feeling relieved as well at the prospect of being released from the transport. In the grim realm of alternatives that faced warriors, even a field infested with Invid held better promise of survival for a warrior than to be bottled up in the belly of a crashing Re-Entry Transport Pod.

Hedra's voice followed, reminding Koso at once of his obligations to the platoon and removing the concerns of self from his head.

"Clear the transport and ramp swiftly. Don't give the little pus-sacks a glut of targets. Disperse by squad in advancing formation and move quickly to the rallying point. Invid have been known to strike at even the largest forces with small numbers, so stay alert."

In a moment that with action impending was odd for such a thought, Koso recognized a change in Hedra. Hedra had of course led warriors into battle on countless occasions, and had even tried his hand clumsily at bracing them for action with brave words.

This was not the Hedra that Koso was hearing now. This Hedra sounded every bit the part of platoon leader. His words were achieving what they were intended to- they inspired confidence by directing action.

The Re-Entry Transport met the ground with a heavier jolt than what would have been considered normal- but it was reassuring in that it meant that they were safely down. The last element of chance would be in clearing the hatch and the ramp- and then every warrior would have at least some determination of his own destiny.

"Third and Fourth Squads with me!", Koso ordered, "Maintain your spacing on advance to keep those fields of fire open. Duty and honor!"

A roar of unified reply came from the platoon, "Duty and honor!"

There was a hiss that rose into a howl as the cargo bay of the transport equalized pressure with the atmosphere outside. The hatch dropped, swinging down and extending to double as a ramp for the warriors it carried.

Koso found himself in the midst of a surge of warriors and mecha, never losing more than a half-pace's distance between himself and Hedra's Glaug in the rush to egress the transport. It wasn't until he was half down the length of the gangway ramp that he first saw the dingy yellow sky of Murhan-Thade 4 or the higher elements of the rocky, volcanic plain on which they had been landed.

The size of the operation became real to Koso as the platoon dispersed into an advancing formation as ordered and he was allowed gaps in their numbers through which to see.

Zentraedi mecha of every type along with as many infantry on foot thundered from transports that seemed to fill every flat portion of the landscape out to the horizon. As each Re-Entry Pod was emptied, it lifted away into the sky drawing up its ramp as it went and was as quickly replaced in its landing site by another. Gnerl Fighter Pods filled the sky in formations that at a distance could have been mistaken for clouds in their size.

Koso quickly put these distractions out of his mind. His charge was the command of his warriors and the execution of Hedra's orders- and his business lay somewhere over the horizon.

"Our rally point is to the south, on heading one-eight-seven.", Hedra announced as his Glaug Pod turned in that direction and began to lead the advance, "Follow up!"

"Follow up!", Koso repeated as the two squads directly under Hedra fell in behind the lieutenant.

As Koso set his own pod into motion behind his leader the ground around him shook with the low passage of a flight of Gnerl Fighter Pods that would provide the additional edge of air cover to the movement of the ground forces.

The challenge was being made to the Invid all around- it was only a matter of time before there was a reply.

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