Second Chances: V1 Continued
This is a continuation of Second Chances by AndrewJamesWilliams. Please be sure that you have read his first version of this story before reading my continuation. It will be impossible to know how everyone got to this point otherwise.
Thank you to those who left positive reviews either directly on the first chapter or in PMs. In the future, it would be wonderful if any reviews are posted here. If you story ideas for this story, please PM me. If I use an idea I receive, I will give credit to the supplier of that idea.
In a couple of places, it looks more like a list (You'll see where), but I actually like it like that, so I'm leaving that in.
Disclaimer:
I do not own any characters, vehicles, or settings for Robotech. The only exceptions are Zardel, Kurda, Natrixa, and Alura as they are original characters. I also am not doing this for money and will make none from this. Please don't sue. Also, I have contacted Andrew concerning posting this continuation of his story, but I have not heard back in multiple weeks. I have to assume that his silence means that he is not against this being published. If I find that I am mistaken, we will cross that bridge at that time.
Chapter 26
Inside a conference room aboard the factory satellite
20 minutes later
The room was quiet, its simple furnishings offering little distraction from the significance of the moment. Lisa Hayes stood by the central table, her arms crossed and her expression thoughtful. Beside her, Rick Hunter leaned against the wall, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. Max Sterling, standing near the door, glanced at Lisa with a mix of anticipation and disbelief.
"Lisa," Max said softly, "are you sure it's her?"
Lisa turned to him, her tone calm yet warm. "Max, I've known Miriya for decades. I'd recognize her anywhere."
Rick smirked, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, this just got a whole lot more interesting."
Before anyone could respond, the door slid open, and Miriya stepped in. For a moment, the room was still as she took in the sight of the three people she never expected to see again. Her emerald eyes locked onto Max's, and the confident warrior façade melted away.
"Max..." she whispered, her voice trembling.
Max crossed the room in an instant, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Miriya. You're here."
"I thought I'd lost you," she murmured, holding him as if afraid he might vanish.
Well, Lisa thought, That answers my question. Thank God she was sent back too.
Rick and Lisa exchanged a glance, their expressions softening. "Well," Rick said, breaking the silence, "I think it's safe to say this isn't a coincidence."
Miriya stepped back, her hand still clasped in Max's and turned to Lisa and Rick. "I should have known you two would be here. It's been a long time... in a way."
Lisa smiled, stepping forward to embrace her friend. "Too long. And not long enough, if you think about it."
Rick clapped Max on the shoulder, grinning. "You always had to one-up us, didn't you? First, you marry a Zentraedi ace, and now you both time travel together."
Miriya chuckled softly, the tension easing. "You always were the joker, Rick."
Lisa gestured for them to sit. "Miriya, we've all been wondering how this is possible. We've had our theories, but seeing you here confirms a lot."
Miriya's gaze flickered between her friends. "Yes, but we still need to make sure that the other Zentraedi are properly exposed to human culture and try to prevent the Rain of Death if possible. That will give us the best possible chance against the Haydonites when that time comes."
Max tightened his grip on her hand. "We'll manage somehow. We always do."
The room fell quiet again, but this time it was a silence filled with understanding. Decades of shared experiences—of battles fought, losses endured, and victories won—bound the four of them together in a way that transcended time.
Miriya smiled at Lisa, a familiar glint of determination in her eyes. "Well, Commander, it seems you'll have to put up with me again."
Lisa returned the smile. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
The meeting room aboard the factory satellite was modest but functional, its centerpiece a large table where Rick, Lisa, Max, and Miriya sat together. A digital map of the station's interior was projected on the wall, highlighting areas where the Zentraedi spies and their security detail had been assigned quarters and tasks.
Rick leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "So, Konda, Rico, and Braun are here. I never thought I'd see those three again. They've always been more curious than combative when it comes to humans."
Max chuckled. "Curious is one way to put it. I remember Rico trying to ask Minmei for her autograph right after the battle for Macross City."
Lisa nodded. "That curiosity is a strength, but it also makes them unpredictable. If they get too much exposure to our culture too quickly, they could become a liability—or worse, targets of manipulation by others who see them as vulnerable."
Miriya's expression was thoughtful. "They're still trying to figure out who they are. That's why Exedore sent them. They're meant to observe, but I think they'll end up immersing themselves in human culture before long."
Lisa tapped her fingers on the table. "If they're going to immerse themselves, we need to make sure it happens in a controlled way. We don't want them overwhelmed, but we do want them to understand what we're fighting for."
Max perked up. "Macross City has been restored aboard the SDF-1, and Mayor Luan is planning to relaunch the Miss Macross contest. That could be the perfect opportunity."
Rick raised an eyebrow. "The beauty contest? How's that supposed to help?"
Lisa smiled knowingly. "It's not just a contest, Rick. It's a cultural event—singing, performances, the works. It's a celebration of everything that makes humanity unique. If we can bring Konda, Rico, and Braun to Macross City for the event, they'll see a side of human culture that's creative, joyful, and peaceful."
Miriya nodded. "It could work. Those three are already fascinated by human culture. If they see something like that, it might tip the scales in favor of understanding and cooperation."
Rick leaned forward. "What about the rest of the Zentraedi? The security detail and anyone else who came with Miriya? Not all of them are as open-minded as Konda, Rico, and Braun."
Miriya's expression hardened slightly. "The security detail is loyal to me for now. They respect strength, and I've earned their trust. But you're right—they're not as curious as the spies. For them, human culture is a curiosity at best and a weakness at worst."
Lisa considered this. "Maybe we can keep them busy with practical tasks—technical training, ship maintenance, things that show them how humans combine ingenuity with resilience. At the same time, we'll work on introducing them to the broader culture in small doses."
Rick nodded. "Divide and conquer. Let the cultural ambassadors like Konda, Rico, and Braun explore while the rest focus on the technical side. It'll give us time to assess where everyone stands."
Elsewhere in the factory satellite
That same time
Konda, Rico, Braun, and the security detail—Zardel, Kurda, Natrixa, and Alura—sat together in a quiet corner of the factory satellite's sprawling common area. The space was a blend of human and Zentraedi design, with high ceilings and sleek panels softened by human touches like colorful posters and comfortable seating. Around them, human personnel moved with purpose, their conversations filled with laughter and camaraderie.
Rico broke the silence first, gesturing toward a group of engineers working nearby. "Look at them. They're... talking while they work. No orders, no commands. Just... talking."
Braun nodded, his brow furrowed. "And they seem happy about it. That's strange. Work is supposed to be efficient, not enjoyable."
Zardel, the oldest and most pragmatic of the security detail, folded his arms and leaned back. "Enjoyment is a distraction. It makes them weaker. They should be focusing on the mission."
Kurda smirked. "Yet they're still building ships, creating weapons, and organizing defenses. Weakness or not, they're achieving more than we ever did sitting in our barracks waiting for orders."
Alura tilted her head, her curiosity evident. "It's not just about their work. Look at them. They're... connected somehow. It's like they care about each other."
"Caring is a liability," Zardel said gruffly. "If you care too much, you hesitate. Hesitation gets you killed."
Kurda raised an eyebrow. "Maybe. But if that's true, how do you explain their victories against us? They've beaten Zentraedi forces that outnumbered them dozens of times over. There's something to this... caring."
Miriya entered the room, her sharp gaze sweeping over the group. She had overheard enough to know the direction of their conversation. "What are you all discussing?" she asked, her tone even.
The group turned to her, momentarily caught off guard by her presence. Rico answered first. "We're trying to figure out how these humans work. They're so different from us, yet... they keep winning."
"And we don't understand why," Braun added. "They seem... undisciplined. Unfocused. But somehow, it works."
Miriya took a seat, her expression neutral. "Humans value individuality and connections. They don't fight because they're ordered to. They fight because they believe in something—or someone—worth protecting."
Zardel scoffed. "Sentimentality. It's a weakness."
"Is it?" Miriya countered, her tone measured. "They've managed to use it to their advantage. Their strength comes from their bonds, their willingness to stand together even when the odds are against them."
Natrixa, ever the inquisitive one, leaned forward. "But what about their efficiency? It's chaotic. How do they accomplish anything if they're so busy... bonding?"
"They're not chaotic," Miriya replied. "They just operate differently. Their collaboration isn't about hierarchy—it's about trust. And trust can be a powerful motivator."
Kurda frowned. "But doesn't that make them vulnerable? If they trust too much, doesn't it open them up to betrayal?"
"Sometimes," Miriya admitted, choosing her words carefully. "But they're resilient. They learn from their mistakes and adapt quickly. That's why they've survived this long against the Zentraedi."
Alura gestured toward a nearby monitor displaying the satellite's operations. "And this place? It's incredible. They've taken our technology and made it... better."
"It's impressive," Zardel conceded grudgingly. "But it's still Zentraedi technology at its core. Without us, they'd have nothing."
"Maybe," Rico said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But they've done more with it in a few years than we did in centuries."
Zardel's eyes narrowed. "Don't forget who we are. We're Zentraedi warriors, not Micronians. Just because they've adapted doesn't mean they're better. Their culture is a distraction from what's important: survival."
Kurda crossed her arms. "Maybe. But if their 'distractions' are why they keep winning, shouldn't we try to understand them better?"
Braun nodded. "I'm starting to think there's more to them than we've been taught to believe. They're... complex."
Alura smiled faintly. "Complex, yes. And maybe that's their strength. They don't see things in black and white. They find value in the shades in between."
Miriya leaned back, letting the conversation flow around her. She listened carefully, gauging each person's perspective. Though she kept her true intentions hidden, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride at how the discussion was unfolding.
"Understanding them doesn't mean becoming them," she said finally. "It means learning what makes them strong and using it to our advantage."
Konda tilted his head. "And what do you think makes them strong, Miriya?"
She met his gaze evenly. "Their ability to adapt. To find meaning in chaos. To see possibilities where we see none."
The group fell silent, each member turning the idea over in their mind.
After a moment, Rico chuckled. "You know, when we were sent here, I thought we'd be observing a primitive enemy. But now... now I wonder if we're the primitive ones."
Zardel snorted. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Rico. We're still warriors. They're just... different."
"Different," Natrixa echoed. "But maybe not so different. They fight, they struggle, they survive. Just like us."
Miriya allowed herself a small smile. "Perhaps. But there's still much to learn."
The conversation drifted into silence, but the air was charged with unspoken thoughts. For the Zentraedi team, the factory satellite wasn't just a battlefield or a mission site—it was a place that challenged everything they believed about humans, and perhaps, themselves.
The next day
The Zentraedi team gathered in one of the satellite's briefing rooms, where Commander Lisa Hayes stood at the head of the table. Her calm demeanor and direct tone left no room for argument.
"These assignments are designed to help you acclimate and contribute to the station's operations," Lisa began, her gaze sweeping over the group. "Each of you has been paired with tasks suited to your skills—or ones that will challenge you to learn more about human culture and technology. I expect your full cooperation."
Miriya, standing slightly apart from her comrades, nodded subtly. Her expression betrayed none of the tension she felt at seeing how her team would react.
The assignments were as follows
Zardel and Kurdawere assigned to the maintenance crew working on the SDF-1's new weapon systems. The advanced technology, a fusion of human and Zentraedi engineering, required their input to fine-tune its operation.
Zardel's initial grumbling about working under humans faded as he realized the complexity of the task. "This is... not as primitive as I expected," he admitted grudgingly to Kurda.
Kurda, intrigued by the systems' ingenuity, added, "They've taken what we built and made it better. That's... impressive."
Konda and Braunwere placed in the factory satellite's logistics department, helping coordinate the movement of supplies and equipment for upcoming ship construction.
"These humans track everything," Braun observed, flipping through a tablet with a growing appreciation for its efficiency.
Konda grinned. "Maybe they're not as disorganized as we thought."
Rico and Natrixawere assigned to the station's operations center, assisting with communications and monitoring ship activity.
Rico quickly became fascinated with the flow of information. "It's like they're always connected," he said.
Natrixa, meanwhile, marveled at how humans used their technology for both work and leisure, noting how laughter often punctuated even the most serious conversations.
Miriya was assigned to keep an eye on the other Zentraedi. "They're adapting well. Hopefully it won't be too long until they all understand that there's more to life than fighting.
Lisa had placed Alura with a civilian team working on event logistics for the upcoming Miss Macross contest. The group consisted of young women from Macross City, buzzing with excitement as they prepared for the station's first major cultural event since the SDF-1's restoration.
Alura hesitated as she entered the room, her imposing presence immediately drawing attention. The chatter paused, replaced by curious gazes.
"Hi!" one of the women said brightly, stepping forward. "You must be Alura. I'm Naomi. Welcome to the team!"
Alura nodded, unsure of how to respond. "Yes. I am... assigned here."
Naomi grinned. "Great! We're finalizing the stage design today. Oh, and have you seen the dresses? They're amazing!"
The others chimed in, voices overlapping as they showed Alura sketches of elaborate gowns and rehearsed the contest's lineup. Alura blinked, overwhelmed by the sheer enthusiasm.
"I... don't understand," she said finally. "Why is this contest so important?"
Naomi tilted her head, puzzled. "It's not just a contest. It's about celebrating who we are—our creativity, our resilience. After everything we've been through, we need something like this to remind us why we keep fighting."
One of the younger women added, "Plus, it's fun! Don't you think it's exciting to see everyone come together like this?"
Alura hesitated again, then nodded slowly. "I see. It is... different from anything we would do where I am from. But I can understand the purpose."
As the day went on, Alura found herself drawn into the group's energy. Despite her initial reservations, she began to appreciate the humans' passion and camaraderie. When one of the women asked for her opinion on a fabric choice, Alura surprised herself by offering a suggestion.
"That one," she said, pointing to a shimmering silver material. "It reflects light well. It will... catch attention."
The group stared at her for a moment before breaking into grins. "She's right!" Naomi said. "Great eye, Alura!"
Alura felt an unfamiliar warmth at their praise. For the first time, she began to see how human connections could be a source of strength, not weakness.
Later that evening, Alura rejoined the Zentraedi team in their quarters. She recounted her day with a mixture of bewilderment and amusement.
"They are... strange," she admitted. "But their enthusiasm is contagious. This contest means more to them than I realized."
Rico grinned. "You're starting to sound like one of them."
Alura raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps. But I think there is value in what they do. It's not just about the contest—it's about creating something together."
Miriya, listening quietly, allowed herself a small smile. Alura was beginning to understand, even if she didn't realize it yet.
A few days later
The room buzzed with activity as Alura worked alongside her assigned team, helping organize materials for the Miss Macross contest. Naomi and the others flitted around her like hummingbirds, their energy infectious as they debated decorations, stage lighting, and the finer details of the event.
"You're really good at this," Naomi said, watching as Alura efficiently folded and sorted fabrics. "Have you ever done anything like this before?"
Alura shook her head. "No. Where I come from, celebrations are... rare. Efficiency and precision are valued, but creativity is not often emphasized."
Naomi frowned thoughtfully. "That's a shame. You have an eye for detail. And you're so graceful—you'd make an amazing contestant in the contest."
Alura froze mid-motion. "A contestant?"
Another girl, Mariko, chimed in. "She's right! You're tall, elegant, and absolutely gorgeous. You'd blow everyone away!"
"I don't think so," Alura said quickly, resuming her work. "I don't understand your customs well enough to participate in something like this."
"But that's the whole point of the contest!" Naomi insisted. "It's about expressing yourself and showing who you are. You don't have to be like anyone else—just be you."
Mariko nodded eagerly. "Exactly. And think of what it would mean to the audience. You'd be showing that strength and beauty can go hand in hand."
Alura hesitated, her usually composed demeanor faltering. "I... I don't think it's appropriate. I am here to assist with the event, not to participate in it."
Naomi leaned closer, her voice softening. "Alura, you're part of our group now. And part of what this contest celebrates is stepping out of your comfort zone and showing people what you're capable of."
Alura looked around at the hopeful faces of the group. For the first time, she felt something unfamiliar—a sense of belonging, however tentative.
The girls rallied around Alura, brainstorming ways to make her feel more comfortable about the idea. They brought out dresses for her to try, explaining how each one would complement her striking features.
Mariko held up a sleek, flowing gown in deep emerald. "This one would be perfect for you! It matches your eyes."
Another girl, Suki, laughed. "With her height and that dress, she'd look like royalty!"
Alura stepped back, overwhelmed. "I don't think this is a good idea."
Naomi smiled gently. "Just try the dress, Alura. No pressure, I promise. If you don't want to enter, we won't push you. But at least see yourself the way we see you."
Reluctantly, Alura took the dress and disappeared behind a curtain to change. When she stepped out, the room fell silent.
The gown clung perfectly to her tall, statuesque frame, the color bringing out the vivid green of her eyes and the subtle warmth of her expression. Alura looked at herself in the mirror, her lips parting slightly in surprise.
"You're stunning," Naomi said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Alura turned, her posture uncertain. "I don't... I've never worn anything like this before."
Mariko clapped her hands together. "See? You're perfect for the contest!"
Alura's cheeks darkened slightly, a rare show of vulnerability. "I... will think about it."
That evening, as the others continued their preparations, Alura sat alone, staring at the dress now folded neatly on her bed. The idea of entering the contest felt absurd—yet it also stirred something inside her.
For so long, her life had been defined by strict roles and expectations. The thought of doing something simply for the sake of expression, of stepping into a spotlight not as a soldier but as herself, was both terrifying and exhilarating.
"I'll think about it," she whispered to herself, her fingers brushing the fabric.
Later that evening
Lisa Hayes walked into the small observation room where Miriya stood, gazing out at the sprawling factory satellite. The soft glow of the nebula bathed the room in hues of red and gold, but Miriya's expression was as unreadable as ever.
"You're hard to track down," Lisa said, her tone light but purposeful as she approached.
Miriya turned, offering a faint smile. "I've been busy, as you might imagine."
Lisa nodded, leaning casually against the edge of a nearby console. "I wanted to talk to you about something I overheard earlier. I was passing by the venue where the Miss Macross contest is being organized. Your friend Alura is helping the girls prepare."
Miriya raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"And," Lisa continued, "they're trying to convince her to enter the contest."
Miriya's eyes narrowed slightly. "They want her to participate? Why?"
Lisa shrugged. "Why not? She's graceful, beautiful, and has a presence that turns heads. They don't know she's Zentraedi, of course. To them, she's just another strikingly elegant woman who fits the bill perfectly."
Miriya crossed her arms, her lips pressing into a thin line. "And what do you think about this idea?"
Lisa hesitated before answering. "Honestly? I think it could be a good thing. She's in a safe space with people who genuinely seem to like her, and it's a chance for her to experience something outside of the rigid roles we're all used to. It might even help her connect with humanity here in a way that feels natural, not forced."
Miriya's expression softened, though her voice remained measured. "She's still adjusting. I don't want her pushed into something she doesn't fully understand."
"I don't think they're pushing her," Lisa said. "I think they're encouraging her, and there's a difference. Alura strikes me as someone who's strong enough to say no if she really doesn't want to do it. But... if she says yes, I think it could be good for her—and for the others."
Miriya studied Lisa for a moment, then turned back to the window. "It's an unusual situation. I'll speak to her, and see where she stands."
Lisa smiled faintly. "I thought you might say that. Just don't discourage her if she's interested. Sometimes, stepping out of your comfort zone is the best way to grow."
Miriya gave a quiet chuckle. "You sound like someone who's been pushed out of her comfort zone a few times."
Lisa's smile widened. "Haven't we all?"
The next day
The meeting room aboard the factory satellite was a mix of human and Zentraedi design—its high ceilings and clean lines spoke of its alien origin, while the human touches of comfortable chairs and a steaming coffee pot gave it a distinctly terrestrial feel. Captain Gloval sat at the head of the table, his ever-present pipe resting beside a tablet displaying the day's reports.
Rick and Lisa entered first, their familiarity with the old captain evident in the casual nods and smiles they exchanged. Max and Miriya followed, their movements precise but less formal, while Dr. Emil Lang brought up the rear, his hands already busy flipping through a stack of notes.
"Rick, Lisa, Max... good to see you all again," Gloval began, noticing Miriya but deciding to wait and see why this other person was brought into this meeting, his deep voice tinged with the fatigue of command but still carrying its usual warmth. He glanced at Lang. "And you, Doctor. I assume you're here to keep us all honest with the technical details?"
Lang smiled faintly. "As always, Captain."
Gloval leaned back in his chair, looking to Lisa. "I understand we have quite a bit to discuss. Let's start with theArtemis. How did things go on Earth?"
Lisa folded her hands on the table, her tone measured. "TheArtemissuccessfully delivered Captain Ramirez and retrieved the 500 personnel we requested—engineers, soldiers, and specialists. They're currently being settled into their quarters, and I've issued initial assignments to integrate them into our operations."
Max nodded in agreement. "We've got some excellent recruits. I've already reviewed their profiles, and many of them are highly adaptable. That'll be critical when it comes to working with the technology here."
"Good," Gloval said, nodding.
Lisa glanced at Miriya before continuing. "Captain, among the personnel are nine Zentraedi. Miriya here is one, but she is also from the future, like Rick, Max, Dr. Lang, and myself. Three of the Zentraedi were sent here as spies, but in our timeline, they became so enamored of our way of life that they caused quite a few of their comrades to sneak aboard the SDF-1 and request asylum." While gesturing towards Miriya, Lisa continued, "The other four are a security detail under Miriya's command. I have assigned them roles that will allow them to observe and contribute without compromising our operations or security. Miriya is keeping a close eye on them, but they've already started to engage with human culture—especially Konda, Rico, and Braun," Lisa finished with a stifled giggle as she remembered how those three behaved in the original timeline.
Gloval raised an eyebrow. "Engage with our culture? I assume you mean more than just observing."
Miriya spoke up, her voice steady but with a touch of caution. "They're... curious. Konda, Rico, and Braun have always been more open-minded than most Zentraedi. Their exposure to human culture is already having an effect. They're beginning to ask questions, not just about our strength but about what makes us different."
Rick leaned forward, a grin playing at the corner of his mouth. "You should've seen them back during the war. They went from being spies to Minmei's biggest fans practically overnight. It was kind of hilarious, but also... kind of inspiring. They were the first to realize that there's more to us than just weapons."
Lang cleared his throat, drawing attention. "This isn't an isolated phenomenon, Captain. Zentraedi physiology and psychology are surprisingly malleable when exposed to new stimuli. Their monoculture—focused entirely on war—leaves them vulnerable to the appeal of things like music, art, and camaraderie."
Gloval nodded thoughtfully. "And the security detail? How are they adapting?"
Miriya answered carefully. "They're more guarded. Their loyalty to Zentraedi tradition is strong, and they're skeptical of human culture. But even they can't ignore what they're seeing here—the way humans work together, laugh, and find joy in things beyond survival."
Lisa added, "Alura, one of the security team, has been assigned to help with the Miss Macross contest preparations. She doesn't realize it yet, but she's already starting to form connections with the humans she's working with."
Gloval tapped his pipe against the table, his expression contemplative. "So, we have a group of Zentraedi who are starting to question their own culture, but also a group who may view us as a threat. That's a delicate balance."
Lisa nodded. "It is. That's why we've structured their assignments carefully—to give them controlled exposure to human culture while keeping them under observation. We need to show them what makes us strong, but we also need to ensure they don't feel cornered or manipulated."
Max leaned back in his chair, his tone reflective. "The thing is, Captain, we've seen what happens when Zentraedi are exposed to human culture in the right way. It's not just about breaking down their loyalty—it's about giving them something new to believe in. Something worth fighting for."
As the discussion about the Zentraedi on the factory satellite unfolded, Miriya leaned forward, her expression serious. "Captain Gloval, there's something else I believe you should know."
Gloval turned his attention to her, his brows furrowing slightly. "Go on, Miriya."
"Early on, during one of my missions, I took a calculated risk," Miriya began, her tone measured. "I developed a computer virus and deployed it within Zentraedi communication systems. Its purpose was simple—to allow human broadcasts to bypass Zentraedi filters more easily."
The room fell silent. Max glanced at her, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, while Lisa and Rick exchanged a knowing look.
"It was a subtle change," Miriya continued. "The virus doesn't compromise security or functionality. Zentraedi commanders remain unaware, but it has had a profound impact. Human music, broadcasts, and cultural transmissions are now reaching parts of the Zentraedi fleet that were previously isolated from such influences."
Gloval leaned back in his chair, his expression contemplative. "That's... remarkable. And dangerous. If the Zentraedi leaders were to discover this, it could provoke a significant backlash."
Miriya nodded. "I understand the risk, but the potential benefits outweighed it. Zentraedi culture is rigid, stagnant. Exposure to human creativity and expression has the power to disrupt that stagnation—to plant seeds of doubt and curiosity."
Lisa spoke up, her voice thoughtful. "We've already seen the effects of human culture on individuals like Konda, Rico, and Braun. This virus could amplify that on a larger scale."
Max smiled faintly. "And let's not forget the immediate effect—it's giving us an edge in influencing the Zentraedi."
Dr. Lang interjected, adjusting his glasses. "If this virus spreads further, it could create pockets of cultural resistance within the Zentraedi ranks. That could weaken their unity, but it also poses risks if it's detected. They might perceive it as an act of war."
Gloval nodded gravely. "We'll need to be cautious. Miriya, is there any way to control or track the spread of this virus?"
Miriya shook her head. "Not from here. Once deployed, it has spread autonomously. Its reach is dependent on the use of the Zentraedi communication infrastructure."
Rick leaned forward. "So, we've got a wildcard in play. It could be our greatest advantage—or a ticking time bomb."
Miriya spoke up, "Actually, I think the likelihood is quite low that there is any problem. I already know that Azonia seems to like classical music because I heard it playing on more than one occasion when she summoned me to discuss plans recently. Since Commander Breetai's advisor, Exodore, hasn't tried to find it, I would say it is likely that nobody will investigate for quite some time."
Gloval sighed, steepling his fingers. "We'll need to monitor this carefully. If we begin seeing unexpected Zentraedi behaviors or fractures in their command, we'll know your virus is working, Miriya. But if the wrong people find out, we must be prepared to respond swiftly."
Miriya met his gaze evenly. "Understood, Captain. I take full responsibility for this decision, and I'll do whatever is necessary to mitigate any risks, though I don't think those risks will be too great, unless Supreme Commander Dolza comes close enough to pick up normal human broadcasts."
Gloval nodded. "Good. Let's move forward with this in mind and use it to our advantage where we can."
Gloval leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "And do you believe these Zentraedi can be integrated into our efforts here?"
Miriya answered first. "Yes, but it won't happen overnight. They need time to see what we're offering and to decide for themselves. Forced integration will only push them away."
Lang nodded in agreement. "Miriya's right. Zentraedi respond best when they feel they have agency. The more they see of human culture—its creativity, its adaptability—the more they'll begin to question their old ways."
Rick grinned. "And hey, if nothing else, we've got Minmei's music on our side."
Gloval chuckled, a rare sound that lightened the room. "Well, if Minmei can win over the Zentraedi, maybe we have a chance after all."
The conversation turned practical as the group discussed logistics for managing the new arrivals, both human and Zentraedi. When the meeting finally ended, Gloval stood and addressed them all.
"This is a complex situation, but I trust all of you to handle it. We've faced worse odds before, and we've come through stronger every time. Keep me updated on the Zentraedi team and anything else that develops."
As the group filed out of the room, Lisa lingered for a moment, exchanging a knowing glance with Gloval. "They're already changing, Captain. We just need to give them the space to figure it out."
Gloval nodded. "Let's hope they figure it out before the Zentraedi fleet finds us again."
Ten days later, aboard the SDF-1
The auditorium aboard the restored SDF-1 was buzzing with excitement. Bright lights illuminated the stage, casting a warm glow over the rows of eager spectators, many of whom had not seen such a large-scale event since the chaos of the Zentraedi attacks began. The Miss Macross contest was more than a competition—it was a celebration of resilience and humanity's determination to preserve its culture, even in the shadow of war.
Backstage, the 28 contestants prepared nervously. Dresses were adjusted, makeup was applied, and last-minute pep talks were given by friends and family. Among them were Minmei, radiant as ever; Alura, her poise and grace drawing quiet admiration; and Jan Arden, a confident young woman with an air of fierce determination.
The host, a charismatic figure in a sharp tuxedo, stepped onto the stage, his smile as bright as the lights. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Miss Macross contest! Tonight, we celebrate not only beauty and talent but the spirit of our community aboard the SDF-1. Let's meet our contestants!"
The audience erupted in cheers as each contestant was introduced, their names and brief biographies displayed on large screens flanking the stage.
Lynn Minmei: A 16-year-old aspiring singer with dreams of fame, her charm and innocence captivated the crowd.
Alura: A strikingly elegant woman who had kept much of her past private, adding an air of mystery that intrigued everyone.
Jan Arden: A self-assured 23-year-old known for her confident demeanor and skill in public speaking.
The first elimination round began with a simple walk across the stage in evening wear. The contestants were judged on their poise, grace, and how well they carried themselves under the scrutiny of the audience and panel of judges.
Minmei's natural charm shone brightly, earning loud applause as she smiled and waved to the crowd. Alura, though less expressive, exuded an almost regal elegance, her every movement measured and deliberate. Jan's stride was bold and confident, her gaze never wavering as she acknowledged the audience with a subtle nod.
The second part of the first round involved a brief interview with each contestant. The host asked simple, lighthearted questions designed to reveal their personalities.
When Minmei's turn came, she dazzled the audience with her enthusiasm.
Host: "If you could visit anywhere in the galaxy, where would it be and why?"
Minmei: "I'd love to visit a place where music is the universal language. I think a song can bring anyone together!"
Alura, though less effusive, captured the audience's attention with her thoughtful response.
Host: "What inspires you to keep going during difficult times?"
Alura: "The belief that even in the darkest moments, there is beauty and strength to be found."
Jan Arden's response was confident and pragmatic.
Host: "What do you think is the most important quality in a leader?"
Jan: "Integrity. A leader who stands by their principles inspires trust and respect."
After all the contestants were interviewed, the judges deliberated before announcing the first round of eliminations.
The host returned to the stage, holding a card with the names of the 15 contestants moving on to the second round.
"Congratulations to our remaining contestants!" he announced. "Among them, Minmei, Alura, Jan Arden, and 12 other talented individuals who have impressed us with their charm, poise, and spirit!"
The audience erupted in applause as the chosen contestants stepped forward, beaming with pride.
The next round was a talent showcase, allowing the contestants to demonstrate their unique abilities. Minmei chose to sing, her voice filling the auditorium with a soft, melodic tune that left the audience enchanted.
Alura's performance was unconventional—a graceful martial arts demonstration set to music. Her movements were fluid and precise, drawing a mix of awe and curiosity from the crowd.
Jan Arden delivered a stirring monologue on unity and resilience, her commanding presence and powerful words earning her a standing ovation.
The other contestants showcased a variety of talents, from dance routines to comedic sketches.
After the performances, the judges convened once more, carefully weighing each contestant's overall impression. Backstage, the atmosphere was tense as the contestants awaited the results.
When the host returned, the room fell silent. "And now, the contestants moving on to the final round are... Minmei, Alura, Jan Arden, and two others: Kara Lowell and Denise Ferris! Congratulations!"
The audience cheered as the five finalists were announced. Minmei hugged the other contestants, her excitement palpable. Alura accepted her advancement with quiet grace, though a flicker of surprise crossed her face. Jan stood tall, her smile confident but reserved.
As the finalists prepared for the final round, Alura found herself approached by Minmei.
"You were amazing out there!" Minmei said brightly. "I've never seen anyone move like that. It was so... elegant!"
Alura offered a small smile. "Thank you. Your performance was beautiful as well. Your voice has a... calming quality."
Jan joined them, her voice warm but teasing. "You two are setting the bar pretty high. Good thing I'm not easily intimidated."
The three shared a rare moment of camaraderie, their competitive spirits tempered by mutual respect.
The grand auditorium aboard the SDF-1 was packed with spectators, their excitement palpable as the final five contestants took the stage. Spotlights swept across the room, highlighting the vibrant decorations and the enormous screen behind the stage, which displayed each finalist's name and image.
The host, standing front and center, addressed the crowd with a dazzling smile. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us for this incredible celebration of talent, beauty, and resilience! It's been a night to remember, and now we've reached the moment we've all been waiting for—the final round of the Miss Macross contest!"
Each finalist was introduced again, their accomplishments and highlights from the contest recapped for the audience.
Jan Arden:Confident as ever, she waved at the crowd with a practiced smile, exuding the poise of someone who expected nothing less than victory.
Kara Lowell and Denise Ferris:Both gracious and composed, they stood together, exchanging supportive smiles.
Alura:Her calm and mysterious presence captivated the audience, her movements as measured as ever.
Miss Lynn Minmei:The crowd erupted into cheers as Minmei stepped forward, her youthful charm and natural charisma winning hearts even before the final results.
The host gestured toward the large screen, where instructions for voting were displayed. "Now, it's your turn to decide who will be crowned Miss Macross! Use the terminals in front of you or your mobile devices to cast your vote. Every vote counts!"
As the audience eagerly submitted their votes, the finalists waited backstage. Jan remained composed, though her eyes occasionally flicked to the monitor showing the live voting statistics. Alura, standing nearby, observed her fellow contestants quietly, her enigmatic demeanor making her a puzzle even to herself. Minmei, meanwhile, chatted animatedly with the staff, her energy as contagious as ever.
After a tense pause, the host returned to the stage, holding a sealed envelope. "The votes have been counted, and it's time to reveal the results! Let's give a big round of applause to all of our finalists—they've made this a night to remember!"
The applause thundered through the room, and the finalists stepped back onto the stage, each standing in the spotlight as the host prepared to announce the results.
"First, our fourth runner-up is... Kara Lowell!"
Kara smiled graciously, giving a small wave to the crowd as she stepped forward to accept her bouquet and ribbon.
"Our third runner-up is... Denise Ferris!"
Denise beamed, stepping forward with poise to accept her placement.
"And now, the second runner-up... Jan Arden!"
The audience clapped as Jan stepped forward, though her smile was noticeably tighter than before. Her eyes flicked to Minmei and Alura briefly before she took her position with the other finalists.
The host paused, letting the suspense build before continuing. "And now, the moment you've all been waiting for. Our first runner-up is... Alura!"
A mix of surprise and pride flashed across Alura's face as she stepped forward, her movements elegant and composed. She accepted her bouquet with a small nod of gratitude, though she couldn't help but notice the warmth of the audience's cheers.
"And that means your new Miss Macross is... Miss Lynn Minmei!"
The auditorium exploded into applause and cheers as Minmei stepped forward, her hands flying to her face in surprise. Tears shimmered in her eyes as the host presented her with the crown, bouquet, and sash.
The host's voice carried over the noise of the crowd. "As our new Miss Macross, Miss Lynn Minmei has won a fanjet, a recording contract, and a movie deal! Let's hear it one more time for our winner!"
The audience roared as Minmei waved to the crowd, her radiant smile lighting up the room. Her victory speech was brief but heartfelt. "Thank you so much! I'm honored to represent Macross City and all of you. This is a dream come true!"
Backstage, the mood was a mix of emotions. Minmei was surrounded by well-wishers, her excitement uncontainable. Alura watched from the sidelines, quietly absorbing the experience. Though she hadn't won, she felt no bitterness—only a strange sense of satisfaction at having participated.
Jan, on the other hand, was less composed. Her frustration was palpable as she muttered under her breath. "A singer wins a beauty contest. Typical." She forced a polite smile when others congratulated her but left quickly, clearly unwilling to linger.
As the event wound down, Alura found herself alone in a quiet corner of the auditorium. She touched the bouquet she still held, her thoughts swirling. For the first time, she had stepped outside her role as a Zentraedi soldier and been part of something... different. It was unsettling and exhilarating all at once.
Lisa Hayes approached her, a knowing smile on her face. "You did well tonight, Alura. The crowd loved you."
Alura looked up, her expression unreadable. "It was... an unusual experience. But I think I understand more about what your people value."
Lisa nodded. "That's the point, isn't it? To understand each other better."
Alura nodded slowly, her gaze drifting back to the stage. "Perhaps."
In an observation lounge during the contest
In a common room aboard the factory satellite, the Zentraedi team gathered around a large screen broadcasting the Miss Macross contest live from the SDF-1. Though initially uninterested, curiosity had drawn them in as the event progressed.
Konda leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. "I still don't understand this. What's the purpose of this contest?"
Rico, lounging back with an easy grin, gestured at the screen. "It's obvious! It's a way for the humans to showcase their best qualities—beauty, talent, and personality. It's like... a battle, but without weapons."
Braun frowned, his gaze fixed on the screen. "A battle? This is nothing like a battle. There's no strategy, no stakes. It's just... displays."
"It's more than that," Miriya said from her seat nearby, her voice calm but firm. "It's a cultural expression. For humans, events like this build connections and inspire pride in their community. It's not about who wins—it's about what it represents."
Kurda crossed her arms, her skepticism evident. "It represents a waste of time. How does this help them survive?"
"They don't just survive," Rico countered. "They thrive. That's why they're stronger than we thought—they care about more than just survival."
Zardel, ever the pragmatist, grunted. "Strength isn't found in contests. It's found in discipline and focus. These distractions make them vulnerable."
"Do they look vulnerable to you?" Miriya asked, arching an eyebrow. "Look at the audience, the contestants. Do you see fear, or do you see unity?"
The room fell silent as the screen showed Minmei stepping forward to accept the crown, her radiant smile mirrored by the cheering crowd.
As the broadcast transitioned to highlights from the contest, Braun turned to the group. "So, who did everyone vote for?"
Rico raised a hand, grinning. "Minmei, of course. She's got charm, talent, and that voice! How could I not vote for her?"
Konda nodded in agreement. "I voted for her too. She represents what the humans value most—connection and hope."
Braun scowled slightly. "I voted for Jan Arden. She was confident, commanding. She reminds me of a Zentraedi officer—someone who could lead."
Kurda smirked. "I voted for Denise Ferris. She was composed and dignified. That's what strength looks like."
Zardel shook his head. "None of them deserved my vote. This whole contest is pointless."
Rico laughed. "Come on, Zardel, you can't watch something like this and not feel at least a little inspired!"
"It inspires weakness," Zardel grumbled, though his tone lacked its usual edge.
Miriya remained silent, her expression thoughtful.
Braun turned to her. "And you? Did you vote?"
"I did," Miriya admitted. "I voted for Alura."
The room went quiet again, surprised murmurs passing between the Zentraedi.
"Alura?" Rico asked, his brow furrowing. "But she didn't even win."
"She didn't need to," Miriya replied. "She stepped into a world she didn't fully understand and held her own. That's strength—not just physical, but emotional. That's what the humans value, and it's something we can learn from."
As the broadcast ended, the group lingered, each lost in thought. Rico broke the silence with a chuckle. "You know, for a bunch of warriors, we're spending a lot of time talking about dresses and performances."
"Maybe that's the point," Konda said quietly. "Maybe it's time we start understanding what makes them strong."
Braun frowned but didn't argue, while Kurda's smirk softened into something almost contemplative.
Zardel, as usual, was the first to leave. "This changes nothing," he muttered. "We're warriors, not... entertainers."
Miriya watched him go, her expression unreadable. "Change isn't easy," she said softly, more to herself than to the others. "But it's inevitable."