Command [Robotech]
- Thread starter Blackleaf
- Start date
- Novel Sci-Fi
Descend Chapter 13.2
The formalities of Admiral Hayse's arrival were rushed and awkward. When had a Terran admiral ever been received aboard an allied Zentraedi warship that had also somehow become a prize of war? But now it was just down to Lisa and Vanessa, seated across from each other in the empty tent. Vanessa inhaled deeply above her steaming mug of tea. Peppermint, from a small, precious canister Mary had given her as a gift the weekend before she left Earth. It had survived the journey to orbit and back in her tiny baggage allotment. Lisa took a slow sip from her own mug.
"Thank you for the tea, Vanessa. It's hard to find the real thing these days, unless you want to grow the peppermint yourself. Not exactly an option on the Factory Satellite."
"I'm happy to share," Vanessa said quietly, and waited for the questions to begin.
Lisa took one more sip and set the mug aside. Her intense green eyes locked on Vanessa. "You made several strongly worded statements the last time we spoke. You did so the last time we were together on the Factory Satellite as well. It's true, you've been through a lot this last year. It would be hard for anyone. But you're not alone in this. It's been difficult for everyone in the defense forces. I'm trying to understand what it is that you need, Vanessa."
Vanessa watched her friend closely. The calm, the control, the careful wording, all confirmed to her that her words the day before had hurt and angered her friend, but that Lisa was trying to keep those feelings hidden for Vanessa's own sake. She mustn't lash out like before, no matter how deeply her heart ached right now, no matter how stained she felt in her soul. Lisa deserved better. But she also needed to be honest. She owed that to herself. She took one more deep, calming breath, before she set her own mug aside.
"I need… I need to stop being sent into situations I'm not prepared for. I'm a trainee. If you don't count the veritech courses, I wasn't even a third of the way through the command training before all of this happened. I'm not ready for the level of responsibility that was asked of me." She paused. "And I'm not ready to deal with the fact that I can't trust the people who I'm supposed to depend on. Soldiers who I'm supposed to lead, follow… trust their word, trust their judgment, trust them to protect my life. I'm not prepared yet, Lisa."
Lisa smiled at her sadly. "Oh, Vanessa, you do have so much still to learn. But it's not the training. That will never end, and it is valuable, but it'll never be enough on its own."
"What do you mean it's not the training? I wasn't anywhere near prepared."
"How long have we known each other?"
Vanessa thought for a moment. Old Earth, before the war, seemed a lifetime ago. "Almost six years."
"And what was the first battle we fought in together?"
Vanessa frowned in confusion. "Launch Day."
"Yes. On Launch Day, I was a fully trained and commissioned senior lieutenant. Flight Direction Officer of the SDF-1. Now, do you think I felt prepared for what happened that day?" She didn't wait for Vanessa to answer. "Do you think I was prepared for an interstellar war with a vastly superior and unknown hostile fleet? Do you think I was prepared for the biggest air battle since World War Two? To direct not just the SDF-1's air group, but also the Prometheus's veritechs and coordinate with the space forces in orbit while they were being cut apart?"
"But you did well. We were lucky to have you."
"It was terrible. I was scared and overwhelmed. Those recon choppers I sent out to investigate when the Zentraedi dropships landed… I felt like I killed those crews. I sacrificed whole Valkyrie squadrons to keep the SDF-1 safe."
"That wasn't your fault though," Vanessa said. "I was there. You had to make those decisions."
Lisa looked away. "I know. But do you think I could ever have truly been prepared for it before it actually happened?" She met Vanessa's eye again. "Do you think Captain Gloval felt prepared to take an untested ship and untested crew to war? You remember. We weren't even sure the SDF-1 would fly. It almost didn't. What about being responsible for not just protecting, but housing and seeing to the wellbeing of fifty thousand civilians after being stranded billions of miles from Earth? And what about us? He was more than just a captain to us. Was he prepared to become like a father to a bridge full of young women who were equal parts frightened and strong-willed?"
Vanessa nodded, but she wasn't ready to concede the argument. "But you both were different. You just… handled it. You were always in control. We never knew if either of you had doubts. You're far more capable than me."
Lisa's lips thinned. "I tried my best, but you know that's not true. I wasn't prepared to lose everyone on the SDF-1. I wasn't prepared to be the admiral."
Vanessa felt a chill. She remembered that empty, dusty road on the way to Monument. The angry words, the hurt, and the self-doubt. Lisa honestly thought she had let everyone down, that the friends she had depended on and lost would have been disappointed in her. The burden of being a survivor belonged to her, too. Vanessa felt a tear trickle down her cheek.
"I'm sorry."
Lisa smiled gently. "I wouldn't have made it this far without you and Rick, and so many others. Do you understand now what I'm trying to tell you? You can't be prepared. No one could have prepared for the times we live in. But we have a duty to each other, and to the people we want to protect. It's not the lack of training you're struggling with, but the lack of experience, and there's only one way to get it. You may not have always realized it, but I've been following everything that you've done since you returned to duty last year. Our servicemen and women admire you, and believe in you, Vanessa. You're a leader, and I rely on you. Your judgment in a crisis is good. Very good. Even when we don't agree, I know I can trust you."
Vanessa wasn't comforted by those final words. Instead they hurt her like a blade twisted in her heart. "That's the problem, Lisa. I have to be able to trust the crew that I lead and the officers that command me. We've argued, but I do trust you. I trust Rick and the Sterlings, Straza, May, Reyes, our training cohort, many of the crew from Armor Seven. But I'm not sure who else I can trust now. I've been betrayed too many times. How can I be a good leader if I can't trust during the heat of battle?"
Lisa nodded. "That I can understand. By the time of the Rain of Death, I no longer trusted the United Earth Defense Council… not even my father, entirely, and that was an awful realization. I'm not blind to the fact that some members of my staff must have been complicit with York. However, rebuilding trust can be a surprisingly practical matter in a military organization."
"How do you mean?"
Lisa took out two small boxes. She opened one of them, revealing commander's rank pins. "After yesterday's events, quite a number of promotions are in order. It's time you moved up in grade to full commander. Straza too. It's a bit of a larger jump for her, but I think you'd agree that it's nonsense that an officer of her proven skill and experience should be a lowly lieutenant. I couldn't present her these pins earlier, for obvious reasons, but the promotions are official."
Vanessa shook her head, making no move to accept the pins. "I- I appreciate the gesture, but I don't see that this helps. More responsibility just makes the problem worse for me."
Lisa set aside the rank pins for the moment. "Then let me tell you what else I would like to do. As I said, trust is going to be a problem for all of us. So I'd like you to be part of the solution. I want you and Straza to play key roles in the investigation to track down and remove York's agents and sympathizers in our ranks. You'll also help select loyal officers to replace them."
Vanessa blanched. "But what about the training program? What about the new carriers and the pathfinder operation? I'm supposed to be XO of the Tokugawa when it launches in spring!"
"All of that has been put on hold, indefinitely." Lisa's voice was grim. "The UN Spacy has to put its ship in order. As you said, we've leaked information, Valkyries, even Reflex weaponry. Everything is called into question now. The Lightning project is frozen, and construction on all the new ships has been halted until the dockyard staff can be thoroughly vetted and all of the work can be checked for sabotage, rivet by rivet if necessary. The training program will have to wait. We'll need you and every one of your officers, because they're among the small number that we're free of doubts about."
"This is going to set the Pioneer Mission back by…"
"Years. And we must move swiftly and decisively, or the United Earth Government will move for us. There may even be calls for my own resignation, if the investigation shows I was negligent. Vanessa, I need you," she said softly. "I need your honesty, your courage, your fairness, even your anger, if we're going to rebuild Earth's fleet, and rebuild our soldiers' belief in one another."
Vanessa was quiet, and Lisa patiently let her consider. Everything Lisa told her today was true, but it didn't make her feel better. She felt worse, knowing how much recent events had devastated the REF and their mission. She wanted to set things right, and her sense of duty had only grown ever since she lost her safe bubble on the bridge of the SDF-1 and began to pay more attention to the world around her. But was she capable? She was not sure even the people who knew her best could understand how angry, how sad, how sick, how tired, how disgusted she felt. She still couldn't bring herself to tell Lisa about the blood and the horror of the previous day. She didn't know if she would ever feel clean again.
"If I'm to accept this promotion," Vanessa began slowly, "if I'm going to do what you're asking, I'm going to need help."
"You'll have it. You know I'll support you, and you'll have your pick of officers for your staff."
"Not… that kind of help." At last, she couldn't stop herself. She shut her eye and felt the warm tears running freely down her cheek. She didn't shake or sob, she just cried silently. It had always been this way. She could be steady and brave, speak her mind during a crisis, risk her life if need be, but afterward, there was always a cost. She heard a soft rustle as Lisa stood, and then her friend's hands were on her shoulders.
"Vanessa?"
The tears didn't stop for several minutes, and finally Lisa wiped them away with the handkerchief she always carried. Vanessa opened her eye and took Lisa's hands, almost shedding tears again at the compassionate look on the beautiful face before her.
"I need help, Lisa," she said in a tight, rasping voice.
"What do you need?" Lisa asked softly.
"Do you think Jean Grant might know someone I can talk to?" Vanessa asked haltingly. "Someone who can help me understand and deal with all of this?"
Lisa's eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded. Lisa was close friends with Doctor Grant, and the doctor had earned Vanessa's friendship and trust through the care she received during her difficult recovery.
"Of course. I'm sure she knows the names of a few therapists who could help, and that can be discreet. You're sure about this?"
Vanessa frowned. The prejudices of the armed forces ran deep. The belief that a soldier must be tough enough to deal with the traumas of their service on their own, or over a quiet drink with a fellow veteran, was strongly held. The very act of seeking professional help was seen as a sign of unfitness by many. The war had made the situation even more difficult. The pressure was greater, the circumstances unprecedented in human history, and very few specialists with experience assisting veterans survived the Rain of Death.
Vanessa took a deep breath and released it. "Yes, Lisa. And if I'm not going to be respected by my peers for getting the help I feel I need, then I don't belong here."
To her surprise, Lisa actually smiled at that. "I think you're going to be alright, if you can be defiant even about this. But you may be right. Maybe we should all have gotten that kind of help after the Rain of Death… after the SDF-1. If it had been possible." She lifted one hand to smooth out Vanessa's hair fondly, then stood. "You'd better get ready. It'll be time to leave soon."
"What happens next?" Vanessa asked, turning her head to cover her blush.
"I'm standing down all of you except Straza. You'll go to Manhattan. We found a hotel to put you all up in until we decide whether to base the investigation in Monument or on the Factory Satellite."
"You're not going to have us just lounge around the hotel, are you? Surely there's something that needs doing?"
Lisa's smile widened as she shook her head. "Plenty, but not by you. Not yet. Take some time to sleep in a proper bed and enjoy the amenities. I'm sure Bron will be thrilled to finally see you again."
Vanessa's answering smile was fragile. "Right. Bron."
Next week… a man of integrity…
"Thank you for the tea, Vanessa. It's hard to find the real thing these days, unless you want to grow the peppermint yourself. Not exactly an option on the Factory Satellite."
"I'm happy to share," Vanessa said quietly, and waited for the questions to begin.
Lisa took one more sip and set the mug aside. Her intense green eyes locked on Vanessa. "You made several strongly worded statements the last time we spoke. You did so the last time we were together on the Factory Satellite as well. It's true, you've been through a lot this last year. It would be hard for anyone. But you're not alone in this. It's been difficult for everyone in the defense forces. I'm trying to understand what it is that you need, Vanessa."
Vanessa watched her friend closely. The calm, the control, the careful wording, all confirmed to her that her words the day before had hurt and angered her friend, but that Lisa was trying to keep those feelings hidden for Vanessa's own sake. She mustn't lash out like before, no matter how deeply her heart ached right now, no matter how stained she felt in her soul. Lisa deserved better. But she also needed to be honest. She owed that to herself. She took one more deep, calming breath, before she set her own mug aside.
"I need… I need to stop being sent into situations I'm not prepared for. I'm a trainee. If you don't count the veritech courses, I wasn't even a third of the way through the command training before all of this happened. I'm not ready for the level of responsibility that was asked of me." She paused. "And I'm not ready to deal with the fact that I can't trust the people who I'm supposed to depend on. Soldiers who I'm supposed to lead, follow… trust their word, trust their judgment, trust them to protect my life. I'm not prepared yet, Lisa."
Lisa smiled at her sadly. "Oh, Vanessa, you do have so much still to learn. But it's not the training. That will never end, and it is valuable, but it'll never be enough on its own."
"What do you mean it's not the training? I wasn't anywhere near prepared."
"How long have we known each other?"
Vanessa thought for a moment. Old Earth, before the war, seemed a lifetime ago. "Almost six years."
"And what was the first battle we fought in together?"
Vanessa frowned in confusion. "Launch Day."
"Yes. On Launch Day, I was a fully trained and commissioned senior lieutenant. Flight Direction Officer of the SDF-1. Now, do you think I felt prepared for what happened that day?" She didn't wait for Vanessa to answer. "Do you think I was prepared for an interstellar war with a vastly superior and unknown hostile fleet? Do you think I was prepared for the biggest air battle since World War Two? To direct not just the SDF-1's air group, but also the Prometheus's veritechs and coordinate with the space forces in orbit while they were being cut apart?"
"But you did well. We were lucky to have you."
"It was terrible. I was scared and overwhelmed. Those recon choppers I sent out to investigate when the Zentraedi dropships landed… I felt like I killed those crews. I sacrificed whole Valkyrie squadrons to keep the SDF-1 safe."
"That wasn't your fault though," Vanessa said. "I was there. You had to make those decisions."
Lisa looked away. "I know. But do you think I could ever have truly been prepared for it before it actually happened?" She met Vanessa's eye again. "Do you think Captain Gloval felt prepared to take an untested ship and untested crew to war? You remember. We weren't even sure the SDF-1 would fly. It almost didn't. What about being responsible for not just protecting, but housing and seeing to the wellbeing of fifty thousand civilians after being stranded billions of miles from Earth? And what about us? He was more than just a captain to us. Was he prepared to become like a father to a bridge full of young women who were equal parts frightened and strong-willed?"
Vanessa nodded, but she wasn't ready to concede the argument. "But you both were different. You just… handled it. You were always in control. We never knew if either of you had doubts. You're far more capable than me."
Lisa's lips thinned. "I tried my best, but you know that's not true. I wasn't prepared to lose everyone on the SDF-1. I wasn't prepared to be the admiral."
Vanessa felt a chill. She remembered that empty, dusty road on the way to Monument. The angry words, the hurt, and the self-doubt. Lisa honestly thought she had let everyone down, that the friends she had depended on and lost would have been disappointed in her. The burden of being a survivor belonged to her, too. Vanessa felt a tear trickle down her cheek.
"I'm sorry."
Lisa smiled gently. "I wouldn't have made it this far without you and Rick, and so many others. Do you understand now what I'm trying to tell you? You can't be prepared. No one could have prepared for the times we live in. But we have a duty to each other, and to the people we want to protect. It's not the lack of training you're struggling with, but the lack of experience, and there's only one way to get it. You may not have always realized it, but I've been following everything that you've done since you returned to duty last year. Our servicemen and women admire you, and believe in you, Vanessa. You're a leader, and I rely on you. Your judgment in a crisis is good. Very good. Even when we don't agree, I know I can trust you."
Vanessa wasn't comforted by those final words. Instead they hurt her like a blade twisted in her heart. "That's the problem, Lisa. I have to be able to trust the crew that I lead and the officers that command me. We've argued, but I do trust you. I trust Rick and the Sterlings, Straza, May, Reyes, our training cohort, many of the crew from Armor Seven. But I'm not sure who else I can trust now. I've been betrayed too many times. How can I be a good leader if I can't trust during the heat of battle?"
Lisa nodded. "That I can understand. By the time of the Rain of Death, I no longer trusted the United Earth Defense Council… not even my father, entirely, and that was an awful realization. I'm not blind to the fact that some members of my staff must have been complicit with York. However, rebuilding trust can be a surprisingly practical matter in a military organization."
"How do you mean?"
Lisa took out two small boxes. She opened one of them, revealing commander's rank pins. "After yesterday's events, quite a number of promotions are in order. It's time you moved up in grade to full commander. Straza too. It's a bit of a larger jump for her, but I think you'd agree that it's nonsense that an officer of her proven skill and experience should be a lowly lieutenant. I couldn't present her these pins earlier, for obvious reasons, but the promotions are official."
Vanessa shook her head, making no move to accept the pins. "I- I appreciate the gesture, but I don't see that this helps. More responsibility just makes the problem worse for me."
Lisa set aside the rank pins for the moment. "Then let me tell you what else I would like to do. As I said, trust is going to be a problem for all of us. So I'd like you to be part of the solution. I want you and Straza to play key roles in the investigation to track down and remove York's agents and sympathizers in our ranks. You'll also help select loyal officers to replace them."
Vanessa blanched. "But what about the training program? What about the new carriers and the pathfinder operation? I'm supposed to be XO of the Tokugawa when it launches in spring!"
"All of that has been put on hold, indefinitely." Lisa's voice was grim. "The UN Spacy has to put its ship in order. As you said, we've leaked information, Valkyries, even Reflex weaponry. Everything is called into question now. The Lightning project is frozen, and construction on all the new ships has been halted until the dockyard staff can be thoroughly vetted and all of the work can be checked for sabotage, rivet by rivet if necessary. The training program will have to wait. We'll need you and every one of your officers, because they're among the small number that we're free of doubts about."
"This is going to set the Pioneer Mission back by…"
"Years. And we must move swiftly and decisively, or the United Earth Government will move for us. There may even be calls for my own resignation, if the investigation shows I was negligent. Vanessa, I need you," she said softly. "I need your honesty, your courage, your fairness, even your anger, if we're going to rebuild Earth's fleet, and rebuild our soldiers' belief in one another."
Vanessa was quiet, and Lisa patiently let her consider. Everything Lisa told her today was true, but it didn't make her feel better. She felt worse, knowing how much recent events had devastated the REF and their mission. She wanted to set things right, and her sense of duty had only grown ever since she lost her safe bubble on the bridge of the SDF-1 and began to pay more attention to the world around her. But was she capable? She was not sure even the people who knew her best could understand how angry, how sad, how sick, how tired, how disgusted she felt. She still couldn't bring herself to tell Lisa about the blood and the horror of the previous day. She didn't know if she would ever feel clean again.
"If I'm to accept this promotion," Vanessa began slowly, "if I'm going to do what you're asking, I'm going to need help."
"You'll have it. You know I'll support you, and you'll have your pick of officers for your staff."
"Not… that kind of help." At last, she couldn't stop herself. She shut her eye and felt the warm tears running freely down her cheek. She didn't shake or sob, she just cried silently. It had always been this way. She could be steady and brave, speak her mind during a crisis, risk her life if need be, but afterward, there was always a cost. She heard a soft rustle as Lisa stood, and then her friend's hands were on her shoulders.
"Vanessa?"
The tears didn't stop for several minutes, and finally Lisa wiped them away with the handkerchief she always carried. Vanessa opened her eye and took Lisa's hands, almost shedding tears again at the compassionate look on the beautiful face before her.
"I need help, Lisa," she said in a tight, rasping voice.
"What do you need?" Lisa asked softly.
"Do you think Jean Grant might know someone I can talk to?" Vanessa asked haltingly. "Someone who can help me understand and deal with all of this?"
Lisa's eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded. Lisa was close friends with Doctor Grant, and the doctor had earned Vanessa's friendship and trust through the care she received during her difficult recovery.
"Of course. I'm sure she knows the names of a few therapists who could help, and that can be discreet. You're sure about this?"
Vanessa frowned. The prejudices of the armed forces ran deep. The belief that a soldier must be tough enough to deal with the traumas of their service on their own, or over a quiet drink with a fellow veteran, was strongly held. The very act of seeking professional help was seen as a sign of unfitness by many. The war had made the situation even more difficult. The pressure was greater, the circumstances unprecedented in human history, and very few specialists with experience assisting veterans survived the Rain of Death.
Vanessa took a deep breath and released it. "Yes, Lisa. And if I'm not going to be respected by my peers for getting the help I feel I need, then I don't belong here."
To her surprise, Lisa actually smiled at that. "I think you're going to be alright, if you can be defiant even about this. But you may be right. Maybe we should all have gotten that kind of help after the Rain of Death… after the SDF-1. If it had been possible." She lifted one hand to smooth out Vanessa's hair fondly, then stood. "You'd better get ready. It'll be time to leave soon."
"What happens next?" Vanessa asked, turning her head to cover her blush.
"I'm standing down all of you except Straza. You'll go to Manhattan. We found a hotel to put you all up in until we decide whether to base the investigation in Monument or on the Factory Satellite."
"You're not going to have us just lounge around the hotel, are you? Surely there's something that needs doing?"
Lisa's smile widened as she shook her head. "Plenty, but not by you. Not yet. Take some time to sleep in a proper bed and enjoy the amenities. I'm sure Bron will be thrilled to finally see you again."
Vanessa's answering smile was fragile. "Right. Bron."
Next week… a man of integrity…
Last edited:
Descend Chapter 13.3
"Now, let's get back to the security agreement," General Edwards said, pulling a sheaf of papers from his valise. "My staff back in Monument have sent over these documents for you to sign, Mister President. The Army of the Southern Cross will establish a permanent garrison around Manhattan. Veritechs, destroids, air defenses. Everything you needed before yesterday and didn't have." He flashed President Abhram a winning smile. "Manhattan will never be threatened again."
Abhram reached across the conference table and accepted the papers stiffly. "I will certainly look over your proposal, but I can't sign any such agreement yet. Please understand, I'm grateful for all the sacrifices you made yesterday. I will never forget how you and your pilots stood beside us. But I must consult my officials and my people."
Edwards's smile remained friendly, although his single eye narrowed. He tilted his head so that his metal faceplate was angled more prominently toward the President. "Come now, Mister President, is this really the time to delay securing Manhattan's safety and future? York has been brought to heel, but there are other independent powers with their own ambitions. The Eastern Bloc, for one. The miracle of the Zentraedi won't be repeated- they're on their way out. Nobody else stood up for you. It's the United Earth Government, or no one."
Bron, who had remained silent on the topic so far out of respect for both men, decided it was time to step in. "General, I know you're very committed to protecting the people of Manhattan, but I'm sure there's time for the President's staff to look over the paperwork. We've done well today, and it's getting late. I think this is a good time to recess until tomorrow."
"Agreed," Abhram said, standing, and everyone rose with him. "The immediate aid supplies, the harbor project, the loans, and the pledge of assistance from the Robotech Engineers Corps will ensure a strong foundation for us to rebuild from. Thank you, both, gentlemen." He shook their hands firmly.
"Good night, Mister President," Bron said, smiling.
"Until, tomorrow, Mister President." Edwards's expression might have been a grin or a sneer. The door shut, and Bron was alone with the general. Edwards's face settled into a scowl.
"I don't understand why you're coddling the Manhattanites so much, Inspector General. The sooner the city is inducted into the UEG, the better. We may have won, but everyone knows it was a damned close run thing, and that we're going to have to clean house in the space forces as well. We need to show that we're strong, and on the rise."
"I do understand that, but it's important we don't rush them into this."
"We can't let this opportunity slip through our fingers."
"It's not going to." Bron settled back into his chair with a sigh. They had begun the session at dawn, and it was now dusk. "They're going to join the UEG."
"You can't know that. Not unless we push it through," Edwards said harshly, dropping back into his own chair.
"What else can they do, General? You've seen the city. Half of it is in ruins. Robotech weaponry is… devastating. Who else has the resources to help them rebuild? They're going to join us because they'll see they have no other choice, not because we're going to bully them into it. The most important thing now is to do it the right way. We need to welcome them and show them respect, so that they're happy to join the UEG, not create resentment that will last a generation or more."
Edwards folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Spoken like a politician."
Bron smiled in disbelief. "I didn't think anyone would ever mistake me for that… you don't like me, do you General?"
Edwards jerked his head back around to look at Bron, and he frowned. "Hell, I like you just fine. You showed real steel out there yesterday, I underestimated you before." He snorted. "It's just you've spent all of today getting in my damned way."
"I'm not trying to. But they're giving up their independence. We need to let them keep their dignity."
"What use is dignity after the Apocalypse?" Edwards asked scornfully.
Bron thought back through the last three years since the defeat of the Grand Fleet. He and his brothers had spent the first two years adrift. Their former crewmates were dead or scattered, Vanessa, Kim, and Sammie were distracted, and Bron had never really admitted to Vanessa that there were times he, Rico, and Konda had been too ashamed of their circumstances to reach out to the group of women they were so attracted to. Their new world was confusing, their jobs were menial, and their lives were bleak. Many times they experienced the hatred or contempt native-born Terrans held for them. Yet, somehow the three of them had endured, and not given in to the anger or despair that led far too many other Zentraedi to first wander off into the wastelands, and eventually to join Khyron's band of renegades.
"Sometimes," Bron said gravely, "dignity is all you're left with, and without it, how can you ever imagine rebuilding your life?"
Edwards stared at Bron and finally shrugged. "Fine. I'll play nice. But I'm bringing up the security agreement again tomorrow. My plan is solid."
"I don't have a problem with that. Just give Abhram time to read the papers before you put the pen in his hand."
Edwards scoffed at that, but didn't argue further. He stood up, stretching. "Tonight I'm having a gathering with my Ghosts- the ones that aren't in the hospital or out on patrol. Why don't you join us? After standing on the firing line with your troops from the Sal-Dezir yesterday, I don't think my boys and girls would mind having an alien in the group."
Bron blushed, both at the invitation and the 'alien' comment. "Oh, uh, thank you, but actually-"
"Hold on," Edwards interrupted and walked to the door. "Benson!" he called, poking his head out of the room. "Where's a decent place we can get drinks around here?" Bron couldn't quite hear the other officer's murmured answer. "Oh are they?" Edwards chuckled. "Alright, sounds good. I'll get changed out of this uniform and meet you all over there." He turned back to Bron and was grinning again.
"We're heading over to the bar at the Beekman Hotel. Turns out your lady friend and her unit are staying over there."
"My lady fr- Vanessa? You know about us?"
The general lowered his head and he drew two fingers down the side of his faceplate in what looked like a habitual gesture of exasperation.
"You do realize that you're two of the most well-known people in the world, right?"
"Ah."
The grin returned. "Well, go on then! Maybe we'll have those drinks some other time."
"Right, uh, thank you, General." Vee! You're so close!
"I'll see you tomorrow, Inspector."
Bron left the conference room in an excited daze, but no sooner had made it into the hall, than he saw Mary approach briskly.
"Bron! Sorry, I know you'd probably like to get out of here, but I have Speaker Torres's chief of staff waiting for you on a remote line. The Speaker wants to talk with you. And…" she paused. "There's something I need to talk to you about before you take the call."
Bron's heart sank again. Even with the battle won and Vanessa miraculously returned, the world seemed determined to stand in the way of their reunion.
"Very good, Inspector General. That's an encouraging report." Torres seemed genuinely pleased by the progress made with Manhattan that day.
"What about York?" Bron asked.
"Every time I can get General Olivander to stop blustering for a few minutes, we move a little bit further forward."
"They aren't going to get away with it, are they? Will he and the other leaders be punished for all they did to Manhattan and the Zentraedi?"
"The ones that are still alive to be put on trial will be," Torres said, with a smile that was pure schadenfreude. "We have very few sources of information inside York, but as far as we can tell, the junior officers, with the backing of the enlisted soldiers, are having their own little revolution right now. Most of the Command Council have been deprived of rank- and their lives."
"So York will disarm?"
"York will join the UEG. Maybe not in name, but we'll have a treaty in place that will open their borders, set up favorable trade agreements, and require payments to rebuild Manhattan and contribute to Earth's defense. Our troops will be allowed to enter their territory, and their own remaining military forces will be obligated to annual service with the UEF, under our supervision.
"They'll really agree to this?"
"They're terrified. Their leaders have spent years feeding the population propaganda about this 'Second Rain of Death' idea, and they really believed it. Now that something similar almost happened, they've realized that the rest of the propaganda, about the 'all-powerful army of York' is a lie, and they're desperate to get any kind of deal that they think will save their skins. It's only their bruised egos slowing down the talks at this point," Torres added, rolling her eyes.
"Good. I guess the negotiations won't take so long for York or Manhattan then."
"Which is the other reason I wanted to speak to you. It's time to be planning for your future position in our government."
Bron's brow furrowed. "What future position?" He glanced over to the side of the room, where Mary sat out of view, just as she had during the last conference before York's invasion. Except this time, she was watching with her cat-who-ate-the-canary grin. "I'm done after the negotiations, right?"
Torres folded her arms. "The situation has changed, Inspector General. We had our disagreements, but in the public eye, at least, your actions have been strongly vindicated."
"I'm glad that we stopped York, but honestly, I'd hoped to avoid all of this fighting. I didn't really-"
"You're a hero, Mister Nantes," Torres interrupted, impatience leaking into her voice. "You, Edwards, Hunter, Pentiet, and Lacroix are the heroes of the Battle of Manhattan. Your statements the day before the battle, and the footage of you sailing out into the harbor, all provided by the inimitable Aria Stockton, are being rebroadcast several times every hour, world-wide." There was a note of sourness in her tone when she mentioned Aria.
Bron suddenly felt intensely uncomfortable. "What I did wasn't that special."
"Regardless of what you may think, my party's leadership has made it clear to me that allowing you to leave public service would be a grave mistake. I'm prepared to offer you deputy directorship of the Ministry of Zentraedi Affairs. Possibly full directorship after the next election."
Bron's eyes widened. He looked again at Mary, who unlike him, did not seem at all surprised by the offer. She smiled at him and made a vague gesture that he read as 'that's really up to you.' He looked back to Torres, who was waiting expectantly.
"Thank you… but I'm sorry. I can't accept."
"You can't?" She looked offended.
"It just wouldn't be right for me to-"
Torres held up a hand imperiously. "Very well, there's no need to dissemble. If you must insist on a full directorship immediately, I can arrange it. And of course, Miss Brennan's and Mister Dosel's positions at the ministry are secure. We'll even overlook their relationship."
"I - no, that's not what I mean!" Bron felt his face reddening, and Mary was covering her mouth to stifle her laughter, which only made it worse. "I'm trying to say that I think you were right the other day."
"Excuse me?" Bron had never seen the look of wide-eyed startlement on the Speaker's face before.
"Not about my giving that interview to Aria to change public opinion. I mean you're right that I shouldn't work for you after going around you and undermining your authority. You're a good person. You deserve to have people working for you that will serve you loyally. If I can't be certain I'll always do that, it would be wrong for me to take the job you're offering. You should give the deputy directorship to Konda. He's worked harder than anyone else for the ministry and the Zentraedi, he just does it behind the scenes."
If anything, Torres looked even more astonished. Another quick peek at Mary revealed an approving look on her face.
"Well," Torres said slowly, "a man of integrity after all." She smiled wryly. "The Central Committee won't be happy to lose you. They'll probably blame me. I do think I may take your advice regarding Mister Bromco and the directorship of MZA. If I can't convince you to stay, may I ask what you intend to do?"
Bron swallowed, and worked up his courage. "Monument city's seat on the UEG Assembly is coming up for re-election. I think it might be time for the Assembly to have at least one Zentraedi senator."
"I think I would agree with you," Torres said, raising her eyebrows. "I do hope you don't plan to run for election on the opposition's ballot."
"Not if you'll have me, Madam Speaker."
"Milena. If we're to be colleagues, you should call me Milena."
"Uh, well, thank you, Milena. You can call me Bron."
"We'll have much to discuss in the months ahead, Bron. Good night, and good luck tomorrow."
"You too."
The screen blanked, and Bron swiveled his chair toward Mary, fanning himself with one hand.
"Well done, Bron!" Mary said, wearing a satisfied grin.
"It was your idea. I can only do this with your help."
"You might be surprised by what you're capable of. But don't worry, I'm not going to turn down the chance to be your chief of staff."
"Good. You're sure Rico will be ok too?"
"Like I told you, MBS has offered for him to host a talk show. I think he'll do very well with both the Terran and Zentraedi demographics. And I think I can guess who one of his first guests will be," Mary added smugly.
"Who?"
"You, silly lad!" she laughed, and patted his cheek.
"Oh."
"I would've thought you'd be happier about how everything is turning out."
"I am, it's just… do you know how I can get to the Beekman Hotel?"
"Why do you - ah..." Mary's expression softened. "I'm sure I can find out."
Next week… emojis from orbit…
Abhram reached across the conference table and accepted the papers stiffly. "I will certainly look over your proposal, but I can't sign any such agreement yet. Please understand, I'm grateful for all the sacrifices you made yesterday. I will never forget how you and your pilots stood beside us. But I must consult my officials and my people."
Edwards's smile remained friendly, although his single eye narrowed. He tilted his head so that his metal faceplate was angled more prominently toward the President. "Come now, Mister President, is this really the time to delay securing Manhattan's safety and future? York has been brought to heel, but there are other independent powers with their own ambitions. The Eastern Bloc, for one. The miracle of the Zentraedi won't be repeated- they're on their way out. Nobody else stood up for you. It's the United Earth Government, or no one."
Bron, who had remained silent on the topic so far out of respect for both men, decided it was time to step in. "General, I know you're very committed to protecting the people of Manhattan, but I'm sure there's time for the President's staff to look over the paperwork. We've done well today, and it's getting late. I think this is a good time to recess until tomorrow."
"Agreed," Abhram said, standing, and everyone rose with him. "The immediate aid supplies, the harbor project, the loans, and the pledge of assistance from the Robotech Engineers Corps will ensure a strong foundation for us to rebuild from. Thank you, both, gentlemen." He shook their hands firmly.
"Good night, Mister President," Bron said, smiling.
"Until, tomorrow, Mister President." Edwards's expression might have been a grin or a sneer. The door shut, and Bron was alone with the general. Edwards's face settled into a scowl.
"I don't understand why you're coddling the Manhattanites so much, Inspector General. The sooner the city is inducted into the UEG, the better. We may have won, but everyone knows it was a damned close run thing, and that we're going to have to clean house in the space forces as well. We need to show that we're strong, and on the rise."
"I do understand that, but it's important we don't rush them into this."
"We can't let this opportunity slip through our fingers."
"It's not going to." Bron settled back into his chair with a sigh. They had begun the session at dawn, and it was now dusk. "They're going to join the UEG."
"You can't know that. Not unless we push it through," Edwards said harshly, dropping back into his own chair.
"What else can they do, General? You've seen the city. Half of it is in ruins. Robotech weaponry is… devastating. Who else has the resources to help them rebuild? They're going to join us because they'll see they have no other choice, not because we're going to bully them into it. The most important thing now is to do it the right way. We need to welcome them and show them respect, so that they're happy to join the UEG, not create resentment that will last a generation or more."
Edwards folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Spoken like a politician."
Bron smiled in disbelief. "I didn't think anyone would ever mistake me for that… you don't like me, do you General?"
Edwards jerked his head back around to look at Bron, and he frowned. "Hell, I like you just fine. You showed real steel out there yesterday, I underestimated you before." He snorted. "It's just you've spent all of today getting in my damned way."
"I'm not trying to. But they're giving up their independence. We need to let them keep their dignity."
"What use is dignity after the Apocalypse?" Edwards asked scornfully.
Bron thought back through the last three years since the defeat of the Grand Fleet. He and his brothers had spent the first two years adrift. Their former crewmates were dead or scattered, Vanessa, Kim, and Sammie were distracted, and Bron had never really admitted to Vanessa that there were times he, Rico, and Konda had been too ashamed of their circumstances to reach out to the group of women they were so attracted to. Their new world was confusing, their jobs were menial, and their lives were bleak. Many times they experienced the hatred or contempt native-born Terrans held for them. Yet, somehow the three of them had endured, and not given in to the anger or despair that led far too many other Zentraedi to first wander off into the wastelands, and eventually to join Khyron's band of renegades.
"Sometimes," Bron said gravely, "dignity is all you're left with, and without it, how can you ever imagine rebuilding your life?"
Edwards stared at Bron and finally shrugged. "Fine. I'll play nice. But I'm bringing up the security agreement again tomorrow. My plan is solid."
"I don't have a problem with that. Just give Abhram time to read the papers before you put the pen in his hand."
Edwards scoffed at that, but didn't argue further. He stood up, stretching. "Tonight I'm having a gathering with my Ghosts- the ones that aren't in the hospital or out on patrol. Why don't you join us? After standing on the firing line with your troops from the Sal-Dezir yesterday, I don't think my boys and girls would mind having an alien in the group."
Bron blushed, both at the invitation and the 'alien' comment. "Oh, uh, thank you, but actually-"
"Hold on," Edwards interrupted and walked to the door. "Benson!" he called, poking his head out of the room. "Where's a decent place we can get drinks around here?" Bron couldn't quite hear the other officer's murmured answer. "Oh are they?" Edwards chuckled. "Alright, sounds good. I'll get changed out of this uniform and meet you all over there." He turned back to Bron and was grinning again.
"We're heading over to the bar at the Beekman Hotel. Turns out your lady friend and her unit are staying over there."
"My lady fr- Vanessa? You know about us?"
The general lowered his head and he drew two fingers down the side of his faceplate in what looked like a habitual gesture of exasperation.
"You do realize that you're two of the most well-known people in the world, right?"
"Ah."
The grin returned. "Well, go on then! Maybe we'll have those drinks some other time."
"Right, uh, thank you, General." Vee! You're so close!
"I'll see you tomorrow, Inspector."
Bron left the conference room in an excited daze, but no sooner had made it into the hall, than he saw Mary approach briskly.
"Bron! Sorry, I know you'd probably like to get out of here, but I have Speaker Torres's chief of staff waiting for you on a remote line. The Speaker wants to talk with you. And…" she paused. "There's something I need to talk to you about before you take the call."
Bron's heart sank again. Even with the battle won and Vanessa miraculously returned, the world seemed determined to stand in the way of their reunion.
"Very good, Inspector General. That's an encouraging report." Torres seemed genuinely pleased by the progress made with Manhattan that day.
"What about York?" Bron asked.
"Every time I can get General Olivander to stop blustering for a few minutes, we move a little bit further forward."
"They aren't going to get away with it, are they? Will he and the other leaders be punished for all they did to Manhattan and the Zentraedi?"
"The ones that are still alive to be put on trial will be," Torres said, with a smile that was pure schadenfreude. "We have very few sources of information inside York, but as far as we can tell, the junior officers, with the backing of the enlisted soldiers, are having their own little revolution right now. Most of the Command Council have been deprived of rank- and their lives."
"So York will disarm?"
"York will join the UEG. Maybe not in name, but we'll have a treaty in place that will open their borders, set up favorable trade agreements, and require payments to rebuild Manhattan and contribute to Earth's defense. Our troops will be allowed to enter their territory, and their own remaining military forces will be obligated to annual service with the UEF, under our supervision.
"They'll really agree to this?"
"They're terrified. Their leaders have spent years feeding the population propaganda about this 'Second Rain of Death' idea, and they really believed it. Now that something similar almost happened, they've realized that the rest of the propaganda, about the 'all-powerful army of York' is a lie, and they're desperate to get any kind of deal that they think will save their skins. It's only their bruised egos slowing down the talks at this point," Torres added, rolling her eyes.
"Good. I guess the negotiations won't take so long for York or Manhattan then."
"Which is the other reason I wanted to speak to you. It's time to be planning for your future position in our government."
Bron's brow furrowed. "What future position?" He glanced over to the side of the room, where Mary sat out of view, just as she had during the last conference before York's invasion. Except this time, she was watching with her cat-who-ate-the-canary grin. "I'm done after the negotiations, right?"
Torres folded her arms. "The situation has changed, Inspector General. We had our disagreements, but in the public eye, at least, your actions have been strongly vindicated."
"I'm glad that we stopped York, but honestly, I'd hoped to avoid all of this fighting. I didn't really-"
"You're a hero, Mister Nantes," Torres interrupted, impatience leaking into her voice. "You, Edwards, Hunter, Pentiet, and Lacroix are the heroes of the Battle of Manhattan. Your statements the day before the battle, and the footage of you sailing out into the harbor, all provided by the inimitable Aria Stockton, are being rebroadcast several times every hour, world-wide." There was a note of sourness in her tone when she mentioned Aria.
Bron suddenly felt intensely uncomfortable. "What I did wasn't that special."
"Regardless of what you may think, my party's leadership has made it clear to me that allowing you to leave public service would be a grave mistake. I'm prepared to offer you deputy directorship of the Ministry of Zentraedi Affairs. Possibly full directorship after the next election."
Bron's eyes widened. He looked again at Mary, who unlike him, did not seem at all surprised by the offer. She smiled at him and made a vague gesture that he read as 'that's really up to you.' He looked back to Torres, who was waiting expectantly.
"Thank you… but I'm sorry. I can't accept."
"You can't?" She looked offended.
"It just wouldn't be right for me to-"
Torres held up a hand imperiously. "Very well, there's no need to dissemble. If you must insist on a full directorship immediately, I can arrange it. And of course, Miss Brennan's and Mister Dosel's positions at the ministry are secure. We'll even overlook their relationship."
"I - no, that's not what I mean!" Bron felt his face reddening, and Mary was covering her mouth to stifle her laughter, which only made it worse. "I'm trying to say that I think you were right the other day."
"Excuse me?" Bron had never seen the look of wide-eyed startlement on the Speaker's face before.
"Not about my giving that interview to Aria to change public opinion. I mean you're right that I shouldn't work for you after going around you and undermining your authority. You're a good person. You deserve to have people working for you that will serve you loyally. If I can't be certain I'll always do that, it would be wrong for me to take the job you're offering. You should give the deputy directorship to Konda. He's worked harder than anyone else for the ministry and the Zentraedi, he just does it behind the scenes."
If anything, Torres looked even more astonished. Another quick peek at Mary revealed an approving look on her face.
"Well," Torres said slowly, "a man of integrity after all." She smiled wryly. "The Central Committee won't be happy to lose you. They'll probably blame me. I do think I may take your advice regarding Mister Bromco and the directorship of MZA. If I can't convince you to stay, may I ask what you intend to do?"
Bron swallowed, and worked up his courage. "Monument city's seat on the UEG Assembly is coming up for re-election. I think it might be time for the Assembly to have at least one Zentraedi senator."
"I think I would agree with you," Torres said, raising her eyebrows. "I do hope you don't plan to run for election on the opposition's ballot."
"Not if you'll have me, Madam Speaker."
"Milena. If we're to be colleagues, you should call me Milena."
"Uh, well, thank you, Milena. You can call me Bron."
"We'll have much to discuss in the months ahead, Bron. Good night, and good luck tomorrow."
"You too."
The screen blanked, and Bron swiveled his chair toward Mary, fanning himself with one hand.
"Well done, Bron!" Mary said, wearing a satisfied grin.
"It was your idea. I can only do this with your help."
"You might be surprised by what you're capable of. But don't worry, I'm not going to turn down the chance to be your chief of staff."
"Good. You're sure Rico will be ok too?"
"Like I told you, MBS has offered for him to host a talk show. I think he'll do very well with both the Terran and Zentraedi demographics. And I think I can guess who one of his first guests will be," Mary added smugly.
"Who?"
"You, silly lad!" she laughed, and patted his cheek.
"Oh."
"I would've thought you'd be happier about how everything is turning out."
"I am, it's just… do you know how I can get to the Beekman Hotel?"
"Why do you - ah..." Mary's expression softened. "I'm sure I can find out."
Next week… emojis from orbit…
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deathzealotzero
Mecha Guru
- Location
- Las Vegas, NV
What? I don't get it. Still cannot wait till the next chapter.
I can't spoil it, but I hope everyone loves it as much as I do.
York's mecha forces and Reflex weapons were all thrown away on their gamble. What they have left is useful for oppressing their own civilian population and not much else. They'd struggle to even drive off a band of raiders (except that they were probably bank-rolling most of the ones that were harassing their neighbors). The arrangement they will end up in with the UEG is what I imagine leads to the 'feudal' 'unstable' society of the Southern Cross era. Rather than being absorbed into the UEG superstate, most of the remaining independent sovereignties enter into an arrangement effectively similar to vassalage, agreeing to various treaty obligations in order to maintain a greater degree of internal autonomy, as well as favorable trade arrangements and access to Robotech weaponry. In return, they must make their military forces available for deployment as part of the United Earth Forces, maintain universal training standards, and abide by the Charter of Human Rights. The GMP exists to maintain military discipline among the regular UEF troops, but perhaps more importantly, to enforce training and leadership standards and investigate corruption and violations of the charter by military forces obligated to service. When the UEG is strong and well led, the arrangement works well. When the economy is bad, and the leadership is distracted or corrupt, the situation destabilizes, to the point that competing sovereignties that are supposed to be subject to the UEG may feel bold enough to flout their obligations, or even go to war with each other.
- Location
- South Wales, United Kingdom
That actually makes sense especially as by the time of the Second Robotech War Earth was barely keeping together which was the primary purpose of the Army of the Southern Cross and the Global Military Police - which is a subset of the ASC - they were a peacekeeper force primarily. Hence why they generally had lighter warships and battle mecha compared to the Robotech Expeditionary Force. The heaviest class of warship available to the ASC Tactical Space Corps was the Tristar-class cruiser which only had basic particle weapons and lighter warheads on its missiles - cobalt i.e plasma warheads and proton scatter warheads they lacked - and why they had no reflex missiles. All the heavy weapons and heavy ships like the reflex missiles, reflex cannons and so on were with the Robotech Expeditionary Force which had among its naval forces a reflex cannon armed cruiser class the Takeru-class Artillery Cruiser and reflex cannon armed battleships like the Valiverre-class battleships alongside repaired and upgraded Zentraedi warships.
Some good points there that I hadn't thought about in detail before. I agree that the ASC forces overall seem 'lighter' than those deployed by the REF. Of course, some of that comes from the returning REF forces having the advantage of another full generation of technology. The reinforcements that the ASC received from the REF in 'Mind Games' were the same ship classes they were already using. There do seem to be some differences in philosophy regarding energy weapons vs. missiles. I feel like the Tristars were, relative to their mass, more effective than the Tokugawa class in a straight fight, and we don' t see an equivalent to that class in action until the Ikazuchis were put into service. The sheer numbers the ASC eventually brought to bear in the orbital battles are fairly impressive too (thought the casualties are equally impressive.)
I was not aware of the Tekeru class cruiser before now. I wish there was more information about it to be found.
- Location
- South Wales, United Kingdom
Remember that the one Tokugawa-class that was sent back did destroy one of the Tirolian motherships with its last act. Though they didn't send that many ships back until later because they couldn't spare them since they had already been engaged by the Invid Regent as well as trying to bring some order to the chaos that befell the local group when the Robotech Masters disappeared from Tirol and the Tirolian Empire tipped over the edge from decline into complete collapse.
That was a seriously impressive maneuver, thought not something one could expect to pull off regularly. I can only guess from the contemptuous comments the Masters made as they went into battle with Carpenter's ship that they couldn't imagine a ramming attack actually working. As for the REF... what I wouldn't give for an adaptation of the Sentinels that treated each planet as a major campaign a la the Pacific theater of World War 2, rather than a planet of the week with one big battle to settle everything.
Descend Chapter 14.1
Chapter 14
Even though she had checked in hours ago, Vanessa slowly turned in a circle at the center of the Turret Penthouse one more time, still unable to believe where she was staying. It was bigger than many homes she had been in - easily as big as Bron, Rico, and Konda's condo back in Monument. The brick structure on the roof of the Beekman Hotel had a round, steeply sloped roof and its own spacious terrace with outdoor tables and furniture. If she wanted to, she could look into the skylight and peer straight down into the hotel's opulent lobby, far below. Inside, the suite was all rich, dark hardwoods, thick oriental rugs, and upholstered furniture. The dining room table could seat eight people, and the suite even had a fireplace and stocked minibar. There were two full bathrooms with smooth gray brick walls and patterned tile floors. Above the heavy timber cross beams were a grand chandelier and the loft, where there was a gorgeous king-sized bed, the first Vanessa had ever had the chance to sleep in, and a working claw foot bathtub.
Vanessa wondered if this was Lisa's idea of a joke. Her friend had to know that she would find all of this fuss embarrassing, but she was stuck with it. The concierge had politely informed her that, no, there was no mistake and that the accommodations had been personally arranged by the admiral. No, regrettably, there were no other rooms available.
"Are you sure you don't want to track down Bron and go out somewhere with us tonight?" May asked again, startling Vanessa.
"Um, yes, you and Jose should be able to go have some fun on your own."
"It's not that simple, you know," May said wistfully. "His girlfriend still doesn't know about me, and he feels like he's let both of us down. By not staying devoted only to her, and by not being honest with me before that he does love me. I'm not sure what's the right thing to do. I don't want to hurt anyone, and neither does he."
Vanessa smiled supportively. "All the more reason you should have some privacy, then, so you can figure things out."
"Alright, if you're sure. But you are planning to find Bron next, aren't you?"
Vanessa couldn't meet May's eyes. "I thought I'd take a shower first."
"You've had two already since you checked in," May noted carefully. Vanessa was still wearing the bathrobe the hotel provided.
"Well I'd like to have another before I do anything else." Vanessa said shortly. "It's been quite awhile since we've had a chance to bathe properly." She risked a look at May and then quickly turned her back, unable to keep her composure when she saw the expression of compassion and concern on the younger woman's face. She felt May's hand on her shoulder.
"Ok then, you take your shower, and how about I order food for you before Jose and I go out for the evening?" May suggested, keeping her voice cheerful. Vanessa spun back around.
"No room service!"
"But it's a five star hotel!" May pouted. "You can't pass up the opportunity to-"
"There's no way I'd get away with trying to charge food to the UN Spacy at those prices!"
"Fine, you're no fun," May grumbled, but she was half-smiling, having accomplished her objective of breaking the tension. "How about carry-out then? I saw a pizzeria just down the street that looked open."
"That'll be fine, thank you."
"You're welcome. I'll go right now. And Vanessa…" she added from the doorway, "take care of yourself."
The door shut, and Vanessa was alone in the silent room. She sat down on the overstuffed couch and hung her head. She couldn't entirely explain why she was resisting and delaying finding Bron. Part of it had to be the nightmare last night, the one she hadn't felt able to share with Lisa, or Straza, or May. She had been back on the bridge of the Sal-Dezir in that terrible moment of fire and shattered glass and death. Again she was drenched from head to toe in blood. Only when she turned to look toward the side of the platform, it was not May standing there, but Bron. Relief flooded through her as he called out her name and ran to her. They reached for one another, and seeing his love for her plainly on his face, she knew that everything would be alright. Their fingertips touched, his smooth and clean and gentle, hers dripping shiny, sticky crimson. And then, to her horror, the thick, hot blood flowed down her arm and across their hands to begin coating his body too. Alarmed, she took hold of his forearm, only for the blood to spread onto him from her other hand as well. He looked down at himself and back again, and there was fear in his eyes. He was nearly covered already.
"Vee, I-!"
He choked. The red torrent poured down his throat, into his ears and nose, and blinded his eyes. He struggled, but could not draw breath. He went to his knees, and Vanessa went with him.
"Bron! BRON!" She swiped at his face, trying to clear it, but it was useless. They were suddenly sinking into an endless sea of blood. She clung to him desperately, but could do nothing to prevent him from disappearing beneath the viscous liquid, and as she threw her head back, feeling the blood rise over her own neck and chin, she screamed.
May had been there for her, had taken Vanessa into her arms when she woke up in her cot and cried out in horror, had held her hair aside while she was sick. She was so grateful for her friend. But she couldn't bring herself to talk to May about it yet. Couldn't talk to anyone. Was she really afraid she would drown Bron in blood when she saw him again? No, it was more complicated than that. Bron was the brightest point in her life, a life that had become steeped in darkness, blood, and betrayal. He brought her joy, and so she wanted their reunion to be joyful. She had never forgotten her shame at how badly she had underestimated him, and her love and admiration for him had only grown since that realization. His actions throughout the Manhattan Crisis had made international headlines. The whole world now knew that Bron was both a hero and a man of peace. Not like her- a bloody-handed soldier who gave orders and then stood and watched other people kill and die. A part of her knew that wasn't fair, that he would never see her that way, but still… I'm in no fit state to see him right now. To welcome him and give him that beautiful golden moment he deserves… and that I want so badly. Not this broken mess.
She sat for a while longer, looking, as she had so many times, at her blue thumb as she ran it back and forth across her fingertips, watching the hypnotic shifting of the flat, square tiles that somehow managed to so perfectly mimic the shape and movement of her original hand. If only she could purge the blood stains from her heart as effectively as her cybernetic hand did from its internal workings. She should be clean already; her skin was pink and warm, but it still felt to her like the soft material of her bathrobe was clinging to her skin more than it should. Maybe I'll feel better after the shower.
Hearing a quiet chirp from the little marble-topped desk by the corner window, Vanessa stood, brushing away a tear from her eye, and walked over to check her new phone. Most of Manhattan's local cell phone network was still functioning, and Lisa gave her the phone that morning in case she needed to reach her quickly. Expecting a message about the impending investigations, she tilted the screen toward her.
<Private Number>
V U SAVED THE DAY AGAIN!!! HOW R U?!!!
Vanessa's eye bulged at the unexpected words, and especially at the pink unicorn kiss emoji between the two sentences. This was not Lisa. She awkwardly tapped at the screen with her left thumb.
<Cmdr. Leeds>
Who is this?
Who is this?
<Private Number>
ME!!!
Who else could text Vanessa at a phone that only Lisa Hayes, commanding admiral of the Robotech Expeditionary Force, should be able to reach? Vanessa's suspicion was confirmed by the pair of animated emojis that bookended the statement. Little chibi Minmeis, wearing the red and gold Chinese dress from the superstar's first film, were enthusiastically banging gongs.
<Cmdr. Leeds>
Minmei! How did you get this number?
Minmei! How did you get this number?
Vanessa was almost afraid to ask, given how convoluted the answer had been last time, but she couldn't resist. In truth, she was happy to have the distraction.
<Private Number>
LISA
The answer, complete with a happy face surrounded by hearts, was certainly the last thing Vanessa expected.
<Cmdr. Leeds>
When?
When?
<Private Number>
LAST NIGHT BEFORE HER SHUTTLE LAUNCH. SHE WOULDN'T LET ME COME 2
That was accompanied by a face crying fountains of tears. Vanessa shook her head and smiled in spite of herself. But it only prompted more questions.
<Cmdr. Leeds>
When did you start spending time with Lisa?
When did you start spending time with Lisa?
<Private Number>
RIGHT AFTER THE CONCERT. U MISSED IT!!! U PROMISED!!!
A red face with steam shooting out of its nostrils scowled at her accusingly.
<Cmdr. Leeds>
I'm sorry! I did watch as much as I could. The concert was great!
I'm sorry! I did watch as much as I could. The concert was great!
Vanessa hesitated, and then, feeling a little embarrassed, added her own emoji - a pair of hands, palms flat against each other, praying for forgiveness. A goofy face sticking its tongue out was sent back to her.
<Private Number>
ITS OK. I FORGIVE U U WERE BUSY.
<Cmdr. Leeds>
How did it go with Lisa?
How did it go with Lisa?
<Private Number>
SHE'S NICE!!! SHE WAS SHY AT FIRST BUT IT WAS FUN. WE TEASED RICK AND MADE HIS FACE TURN RED.
Vanessa laughed out loud that time. She had buried the hatchet with Rick for good on the Factory Satellite, and she owed him her thanks for saving Bron, but she enjoyed the image of Rick trapped between two formidable women who knew him extremely well.
<Private Number>
HOW IS BRON HE DOESNT ANSWER MY MESSAGES
Vanessa's expression changed, matching the frowning face Minmei sent.
<Cmdr. Leeds>
He's ok. I think he lost his phone yesterday.
He's ok. I think he lost his phone yesterday.
<Private Number>
K SEND HIM MY LOVE. I MISS HIM. WHEN WILL I SEE U AGAIN? WE SHOULD DO ANOTHER PROJECT TOGETHER!!!
<Cmdr. Leeds>
It will be awhile. I'm not sure if I'm going to Monument next or back to the Factory Satellite.
It will be awhile. I'm not sure if I'm going to Monument next or back to the Factory Satellite.
<Private Number>
K. MY TOUR WILL END IN 3 WEEKS. HOPE TO SEE U THEN. GIVE BRON LOTS OF HUGS AND KISSES FROM ME. TELL HIM TO GIVE U LOTS OF HUGS AND KISSES FROM ME K BYE!!!
<Cmdr. Leeds>
I will. Bye Minmei. Take care.
I will. Bye Minmei. Take care.
Vanessa looked at the row of blown kisses and felt a lump in her throat as she locked the phone, but Minmei had made her feel a little better. She would keep her promise about Bron… when the time was right. She finally headed into the bathroom and shed her bathrobe on the floor, which was still damp with condensation from her last shower. She had just detached her cybernetic arm and set it on the edge of the sink when she heard a knock at the door.
"It's open, May!" she yelled out. The suite had a private, code-accessed elevator at the other end of the terrace, so she had seen no need to lock the door. The knock was repeated.
"May, it's-!"
At the third knock, Vanessa made a small sound of irritation and grabbed a fresh towel off the rack, awkwardly wrapping it around herself and holding it in place with her one hand. She quickly strode to the door on bare feet and then realized she couldn't open it and keep hold of the towel.
"Come in!" she called loudly.
The door opened, and Bron's soft brown eyes met her own. She froze.
Next week… wounded hearts…
Last edited:
- Location
- South Wales, United Kingdom
Interesting update.
I had to laugh at the idea of Rick being caught between Lisa and Minmei and being embarrassed by them. Though they had both better watch out as Rick has a long memory and you can bet he will get his own back whenever they least expect it.
I had to laugh at the idea of Rick being caught between Lisa and Minmei and being embarrassed by them. Though they had both better watch out as Rick has a long memory and you can bet he will get his own back whenever they least expect it.
Minmei just had to come back one more time before the end of the book. With Lisa running things up in orbit, there was no way that she would allow Minmei to fly down into the war zone, and then the idea of what Minmei texting would be like came to mind. There have to be moments for humor and releasing tension in a story that is so serious, and with Minmei no longer part of a love triangle, she's perfect to lighten the mood.
I'm very happy with how her role in the story grew. Like Edwards, I'm going to have to find something for her to contribute in Book 3. But not the, ugh, relationship between them. Minmei deserves better than drifting from one dysfunctional relationship to another. As I've said before, any time I leave the territory of the broadcast series, I reserve the right to incorporate what I find useful and intriguing from the comics, novels, and Sentinels animation, and go my own way with the storyline.
- Location
- South Wales, United Kingdom
That's perfectly fine with me as Minmei was a very lonely character in the long run as she discovered the hard way what many teenage Starlets like her inevitably discover - and why so many of them ultimately end up self destructing due to alcohol and drug abuse - that not only is there fame fleeting but it leaves them with nothing to fall back on and few if any friends because all that is taken from them by the Starlet lifestyle. In some ways Minmei was lucky at the end in that she eventually started - alongside the likes of Bowie Grant - teaching music to young Tirolians in Tiresia after the Robotech Wars ended.
Descend Chapter 14.2
"Vee!" Bron said happily, and took a step into the room. But then he saw the look on her face. His foot stopped in mid-step, and it dropped back to the floor as if an irresistible weight was clamped around his ankles. Vanessa swallowed heavily.
"Bron, I wasn't- I mean-" she stuttered, unable to form a complete thought.
They both felt the terrible brittleness in the air between them. The expression Bron saw on her face was one he hadn't seen since the day he watched her wake up in the hospital with her entire world destroyed. It was the day he finally knew with total certainty that his heart belonged to her and no other. Why else would the fear and grief and despair on her face have caused him to experience such piercing anguish? Today, he saw it again, and it cut him to his very soul.
"Vanessa," he said, the worry and the care plain in his voice, "you've been hurt."
"I'm- I'm not injured," she said breathlessly. "I just wasn't expecting…"
"No, Vee. You're hurt."
His words unleashed the emotions Vanessa was trying so hard to hold back. Her eye filled with tears, and her face twisted with pain.
"I'm sorry, Bron, I didn't want it to be like this!" she sobbed. "I wasn't ready!"
"That doesn't matter," Bron said, not entirely understanding what she meant. He held out his hand to her. "This is where I want to be, no matter what. Let me help you."
She didn't take his hand. Instead, the blood drained from her face. She shook her head and took a step back, clutching the bunched edges of the towel tighter in her fist.
"I can't. I'm too messed up right now. You don't know what I've seen, what I've done."
For a moment, Bron was at a loss. His hand dropped limply to his side. The look of terror on her face banished any thought of approaching her. He didn't understand what exactly had happened to her, but he knew all too well the horrors that a soldier might witness… or take part in. Had done so himself.
"Vanessa, this is what I know." His voice was soft, but it carried complete conviction. "I know that yesterday, you saved my life. You saved tens of thousands of lives. I know that yesterday, I watched those Reflex missiles go off, and I thought they killed you. I thought that my heart had been destroyed."
"Oh God, Bron, I'm sorry! I'm-"
"That's not what I mean. I don't want you to feel bad about that," Bron said reassuringly. "What I want is for you to understand that I thought I'd lost you, and that's the worst I've ever felt. It's the worst I could ever feel. So there is nothing that you could tell me that could shake my love or belief in you. I've been a part of terrible things too. I love you, Vee. Let us help each other." He held out his hand to her again, and waited.
Vanessa tried not to look at Bron's hand. Instead she kept her gaze on his loving eyes. "I'm not sure…" she said, uncertainly. "I wanted to talk to Lisa or Allison about it and I just couldn't. There's something wrong with me."
"Vee, you're hurt. I am too. But you're strong. So strong. My body, my hands, they've always been strong. But you taught me how to find the strength in my heart. We can heal. I know it will take time, and help from many people, but we can start here, together. Do you trust me?"
Vanessa trusted May, who had witnessed many of the gut-wrenching events that Vanessa had been through, but she couldn't find the words to speak to her about them yet. She trusted Lisa, and had shared with her many of the doubts she now struggled with, but she couldn't convey to her how disgusted and unclean she now felt. Maybe later she would find a way to. But this was Bron. He loved her before he even knew what love was. He had always supported her. He had never hurt her. So if he asked her to share with him the pain and shame buried inside her… she took a deep, shuddering breath.
"I- I do, Bron. I trust you."
Her towel fell away, forgotten. Neither of them noticed. All they saw were her long, slender fingers reaching for his. Slowly, very slowly, their fingertips met, and she released her breath in a sigh. There were tears in her eye again, but they were tears of relief. As she pressed her fingertips against his, all she felt was softness and warmth. She let their fingers slide together and interlace, and then, as one, they stepped toward each other. He was holding her, his arm around her shoulders, and she raised their clasped hands and touched them to her cheek. She closed her eye and lifted her chin. His lips brushed hers, first slowly, delicately, then he kissed her fully, and she parted her lips so that they molded themselves to his. Long, they stood, in silence and warmth, their tears mingling.
I have it after all, Vanessa thought in a daze. I still feel hurt, still feel broken, but somehow we found it anyway, our beautiful, golden moment.
And then Bron scooped her into his arms, her weight nothing to the strength in his great frame, and she nuzzled into the crook of his neck as he carried her up the stairs to the loft bedroom.
Minutes later May returned, loaded down with pizza boxes and a plastic bag that was bulging with food and disposable tableware, to find the door standing open and the discarded towel pooled just beyond the threshold. Listening, she could make out quiet voices exchanging tender words above her. May smiled. Bron, as one of the heroes of Manhattan, might have been able to convince the concierge to bring him up here, but it was still fortunate that she had encountered him in the hotel lobby and been able to give him the elevator code. As quietly as she could, she set the food on the dining room table for the couple to enjoy later, and carefully locked and closed the door behind her.
Little was said, at first. Vanessa tugged loose Bron's suit coat and tie and tossed them aside. Entwined atop the spacious bed's silk sheets, they communicated by touch and by their loving gazes. With gentle caresses and soft kisses, they reacquainted themselves with each other. Not passion, but intimacy. Finally, Vanessa spoke, haltingly, of all that she had experienced since they had last parted months ago. Not just the horrors of the final battle on the bridge of the Sal-Dezir. There were her conflicted feelings about helping to target and destroy York's base camp outside Manhattan. The mass bombardment did not discriminate. There had been more than the missile batteries and reserve troops, there had been the hundreds of mechanics, cooks, and other staff that served an army in the field. And surely there had been a field hospital with doctors and nurses and wounded. All defenseless. All erased in sudden flashes of blue light. At her direction. Yes, it was war, and at the time she had spared no thought for their lives. Had she not acted similarly when she aided the crew of the SDF-1 in killing millions of Zentraedi? It had been a shock when later she began thinking of them as people, and seriously considered her role in their deaths. Was this any different? She didn't know, and it bothered her.
She felt ashamed about ordering Reyes and Straza to kill men and women that had been their fellow soldiers or allies. More ashamed that she gave those orders and then could do no more than watch them be carried out, while it was her subordinates who had the burden of taking those lives. People died in battle while she watched and manipulated them like playing pieces. It didn't matter that it was her role as a commanding officer, she still hadn't been able to reconcile it.
It wasn't just her experience in battle that she struggled with. Part of her still felt guilty for ordering May, a scared rookie pilot, to fly them both into the Green Zone to rescue Reyes, where they came so close to death. Even outside of a war, even for good reasons, it was hard for her to order the people she was responsible for to endanger their lives. She told Bron about the future, the upheavals in the UN Spacy and the Pioneer Mission, what Lisa wanted her to do, and her own intention to seek professional help. Bron listened to it all without interrupting, without protesting that she was wrong to be feeling guilt or shame. He didn't give her platitudes that all would be well.
"Vee," he eventually said. "You're not alone. Every good officer would be troubled by these things. You've made better decisions and shown more care toward the people under your command, and even toward your enemies, than any officer I ever fought under."
Vanessa nodded gratefully. She had determined she would never again allow herself to forget the reality of Bron's experiences as a warrior, even if he had chosen to leave that part of his life behind. He could understand, and his opinion counted for a great deal. Bron reached over and lightly brushed away a strand of hair trailing across her face, then ran his fingers through her locks before he continued speaking.
"You might not be able to command again." He saw her reaction, and shook his head. "It's not a weakness. Feeling as strongly as you do and not burying it, not ignoring it, or making excuses so you can avoid feeling responsible, that makes you honest. It's a sign of your integrity. I know what it's like to wander through life numb, not understanding what I'm feeling. That's how things were before I met you. It's no way to live. Someone like you, who is so smart, and brave, and caring, can find all kinds of ways to make our world better. And if you do command again… then they're very lucky to have you."
Vanessa smiled shyly and kissed him. "You've become so wise." She sighed. "You've become such an amazing person, and I'm just falling to pieces, it's not fair to you-"
"Don't. Please," Bron interrupted, his voice quiet but tense. Vanessa's eye widened in surprise. "Don't believe I'm someone that I'm not. I'm not some pure and perfect person. I'm not innocent, or a great hero. If I understand some of what you're feeling, it's because of things I saw and did and regret too."
Vanessa's surprise turned to worry. "What happened?"
He shifted his eyes away. "I want to help you. This isn't a time for talking about me."
And then he looked back, and saw Vanessa's inner core of strength returning. Love and steel were alloyed in the gaze of her single violet eye. "No, Bron. You promised we would help each other. Please tell me what happened. If you're not able to yet, I'll understand, but don't bury it right now and imagine that you're doing it for me."
Bron took a deep breath and nodded, hesitant, and yet relieved at the same time. "Ok. Um… yesterday, during the invasion of the city… Commander Ztren, she was the leader of the defense. Brave woman. York was coming across the Washington Bridge, with tanks. She took her command group there and stopped them, practically with her bare hands. Then… they struck back. They couldn't blow up the bridge, they needed it. So, the F-16's… dropped fire on her." He choked. He had forced himself not to think about it since yesterday, about her screams over the comms, but now he couldn't avoid it. Vanessa stroked his forehead with the back of her hand.
"After that," Bron went on, "Captain Martin, he was her second in command, he used to be a marine, I think… he got really quiet. Then he picked up a rifle and left the room. We never saw him again after that. All the defense officers were gone then. What was left were some scared looking technicians, the civilian officials, me, and Mary. And they all just looked at me, like I'd know what to do. There were all of these junior officers radioing us, asking for updates. Asking for orders. Edwards was demanding backup. I… can read a map, and work with comms. I understand the capabilities of tanks, and battlepods, and aircraft. So I started sending messages, redeploying units, and coordinating with Edwards. I guess, for a little over an hour, I was running the defense of the city.
"Then the first battlepods came over the Harlem River. Edwards told me he couldn't stop them until the rest of his Ghosts arrived, in about half an hour." Bron frowned. "Vee, before the main battle, I accused Edwards of sacrificing the city's defenders to buy time. I treated him like a monster. He said that's what it would take to stop York. And… that's what I did. I started throwing any unit that was near enough into the path of the attack. Anything to slow them down and give us a few more minutes to evacuate the government. I don't know how many people were killed in those last few minutes before we fled and the defense collapsed into a few isolated holdouts. I did that." He exhaled painfully.
"Bron," Vanessa whispered, sadly, and kissed his brow.
"I'll never command again, Vee. You're the one who's qualified to make those kinds of decisions, not me. I'm done with fighting. I don't even want to carry a weapon again."
"You're not a monster for doing what you did. You're just like me. And you have every right to make that choice, to walk away from fighting," Vanessa told him. "You've fought more than enough."
"There's more," Bron said reluctantly. "I already told you, I saw it happen, when the Reflex missiles went off. Aria was there, and got me through the first shock of it. We still had to get to the docks, and launch the boats. Then, Vee… I gave up." Tears of shame welled in his eyes.
"What do you mean?" Vanessa said slowly.
"Once the boats were out in the harbor, and the battlepods were blasting them all apart, I just stood there and watched." His throat closed up as he spoke, making it difficult to get the words out. "Instead of trying to save myself, I thought I'd just wait and see what happened, because I couldn't imagine a tomorrow without you. But then I realized how much that would have hurt you, how you'd never agree with it. I felt like I was betraying your memory. So I started to climb over the rail, and the boat was hit and torn to pieces. I was thrown clear into the water. If I'd waited three more seconds, I'd have been torn apart with it." He turned his head away. "I let you down Vee. I gave up on the world and the people you love, and the people that love me, because of my own selfish grief."
Bron felt Vanessa free her hand from his, and waited for the words of condemnation. But instead she cupped his cheek and gently forced him to look at her again. He almost broke down at the sadness on her face.
"Bron, I'm not going to pretend what you just told me isn't upsetting. Wondering if you were alive or not down here was horrible… and to hear how close you came…" Vanessa blew out a long breath. "But you didn't wait until it was too late. You came back. Not to me, but to the world. And you found me here." She smiled.
"Oh, Vee, please forgive me," Bron sobbed.
"Shhh. You know I do." She leaned in, kissing him lovingly, and the light returned to his eyes. "You came to me, and broke through the barriers I started trying to build. You listened. You've been honest, about everything. Thanks to you, I believe. We can heal. We will. And we'll do it together."
Vanessa reached around and wove her fingers through Bron's hair, pulling herself close for another kiss. She pressed her body against his, their kiss deepening, and Bron's arms enfolded her. All at once, all the pain, all the bitterness, all the feelings of being stained and unclean were banished, at least for a little while. Joy and desire arose triumphant from her soul. The future would wait until she was ready to decide what was right for her to do. For now, that better world, long dreamed of, was right here.
Next week… Epilogue: Command…
"Bron, I wasn't- I mean-" she stuttered, unable to form a complete thought.
They both felt the terrible brittleness in the air between them. The expression Bron saw on her face was one he hadn't seen since the day he watched her wake up in the hospital with her entire world destroyed. It was the day he finally knew with total certainty that his heart belonged to her and no other. Why else would the fear and grief and despair on her face have caused him to experience such piercing anguish? Today, he saw it again, and it cut him to his very soul.
"Vanessa," he said, the worry and the care plain in his voice, "you've been hurt."
"I'm- I'm not injured," she said breathlessly. "I just wasn't expecting…"
"No, Vee. You're hurt."
His words unleashed the emotions Vanessa was trying so hard to hold back. Her eye filled with tears, and her face twisted with pain.
"I'm sorry, Bron, I didn't want it to be like this!" she sobbed. "I wasn't ready!"
"That doesn't matter," Bron said, not entirely understanding what she meant. He held out his hand to her. "This is where I want to be, no matter what. Let me help you."
She didn't take his hand. Instead, the blood drained from her face. She shook her head and took a step back, clutching the bunched edges of the towel tighter in her fist.
"I can't. I'm too messed up right now. You don't know what I've seen, what I've done."
For a moment, Bron was at a loss. His hand dropped limply to his side. The look of terror on her face banished any thought of approaching her. He didn't understand what exactly had happened to her, but he knew all too well the horrors that a soldier might witness… or take part in. Had done so himself.
"Vanessa, this is what I know." His voice was soft, but it carried complete conviction. "I know that yesterday, you saved my life. You saved tens of thousands of lives. I know that yesterday, I watched those Reflex missiles go off, and I thought they killed you. I thought that my heart had been destroyed."
"Oh God, Bron, I'm sorry! I'm-"
"That's not what I mean. I don't want you to feel bad about that," Bron said reassuringly. "What I want is for you to understand that I thought I'd lost you, and that's the worst I've ever felt. It's the worst I could ever feel. So there is nothing that you could tell me that could shake my love or belief in you. I've been a part of terrible things too. I love you, Vee. Let us help each other." He held out his hand to her again, and waited.
Vanessa tried not to look at Bron's hand. Instead she kept her gaze on his loving eyes. "I'm not sure…" she said, uncertainly. "I wanted to talk to Lisa or Allison about it and I just couldn't. There's something wrong with me."
"Vee, you're hurt. I am too. But you're strong. So strong. My body, my hands, they've always been strong. But you taught me how to find the strength in my heart. We can heal. I know it will take time, and help from many people, but we can start here, together. Do you trust me?"
Vanessa trusted May, who had witnessed many of the gut-wrenching events that Vanessa had been through, but she couldn't find the words to speak to her about them yet. She trusted Lisa, and had shared with her many of the doubts she now struggled with, but she couldn't convey to her how disgusted and unclean she now felt. Maybe later she would find a way to. But this was Bron. He loved her before he even knew what love was. He had always supported her. He had never hurt her. So if he asked her to share with him the pain and shame buried inside her… she took a deep, shuddering breath.
"I- I do, Bron. I trust you."
Her towel fell away, forgotten. Neither of them noticed. All they saw were her long, slender fingers reaching for his. Slowly, very slowly, their fingertips met, and she released her breath in a sigh. There were tears in her eye again, but they were tears of relief. As she pressed her fingertips against his, all she felt was softness and warmth. She let their fingers slide together and interlace, and then, as one, they stepped toward each other. He was holding her, his arm around her shoulders, and she raised their clasped hands and touched them to her cheek. She closed her eye and lifted her chin. His lips brushed hers, first slowly, delicately, then he kissed her fully, and she parted her lips so that they molded themselves to his. Long, they stood, in silence and warmth, their tears mingling.
I have it after all, Vanessa thought in a daze. I still feel hurt, still feel broken, but somehow we found it anyway, our beautiful, golden moment.
And then Bron scooped her into his arms, her weight nothing to the strength in his great frame, and she nuzzled into the crook of his neck as he carried her up the stairs to the loft bedroom.
Minutes later May returned, loaded down with pizza boxes and a plastic bag that was bulging with food and disposable tableware, to find the door standing open and the discarded towel pooled just beyond the threshold. Listening, she could make out quiet voices exchanging tender words above her. May smiled. Bron, as one of the heroes of Manhattan, might have been able to convince the concierge to bring him up here, but it was still fortunate that she had encountered him in the hotel lobby and been able to give him the elevator code. As quietly as she could, she set the food on the dining room table for the couple to enjoy later, and carefully locked and closed the door behind her.
Little was said, at first. Vanessa tugged loose Bron's suit coat and tie and tossed them aside. Entwined atop the spacious bed's silk sheets, they communicated by touch and by their loving gazes. With gentle caresses and soft kisses, they reacquainted themselves with each other. Not passion, but intimacy. Finally, Vanessa spoke, haltingly, of all that she had experienced since they had last parted months ago. Not just the horrors of the final battle on the bridge of the Sal-Dezir. There were her conflicted feelings about helping to target and destroy York's base camp outside Manhattan. The mass bombardment did not discriminate. There had been more than the missile batteries and reserve troops, there had been the hundreds of mechanics, cooks, and other staff that served an army in the field. And surely there had been a field hospital with doctors and nurses and wounded. All defenseless. All erased in sudden flashes of blue light. At her direction. Yes, it was war, and at the time she had spared no thought for their lives. Had she not acted similarly when she aided the crew of the SDF-1 in killing millions of Zentraedi? It had been a shock when later she began thinking of them as people, and seriously considered her role in their deaths. Was this any different? She didn't know, and it bothered her.
She felt ashamed about ordering Reyes and Straza to kill men and women that had been their fellow soldiers or allies. More ashamed that she gave those orders and then could do no more than watch them be carried out, while it was her subordinates who had the burden of taking those lives. People died in battle while she watched and manipulated them like playing pieces. It didn't matter that it was her role as a commanding officer, she still hadn't been able to reconcile it.
It wasn't just her experience in battle that she struggled with. Part of her still felt guilty for ordering May, a scared rookie pilot, to fly them both into the Green Zone to rescue Reyes, where they came so close to death. Even outside of a war, even for good reasons, it was hard for her to order the people she was responsible for to endanger their lives. She told Bron about the future, the upheavals in the UN Spacy and the Pioneer Mission, what Lisa wanted her to do, and her own intention to seek professional help. Bron listened to it all without interrupting, without protesting that she was wrong to be feeling guilt or shame. He didn't give her platitudes that all would be well.
"Vee," he eventually said. "You're not alone. Every good officer would be troubled by these things. You've made better decisions and shown more care toward the people under your command, and even toward your enemies, than any officer I ever fought under."
Vanessa nodded gratefully. She had determined she would never again allow herself to forget the reality of Bron's experiences as a warrior, even if he had chosen to leave that part of his life behind. He could understand, and his opinion counted for a great deal. Bron reached over and lightly brushed away a strand of hair trailing across her face, then ran his fingers through her locks before he continued speaking.
"You might not be able to command again." He saw her reaction, and shook his head. "It's not a weakness. Feeling as strongly as you do and not burying it, not ignoring it, or making excuses so you can avoid feeling responsible, that makes you honest. It's a sign of your integrity. I know what it's like to wander through life numb, not understanding what I'm feeling. That's how things were before I met you. It's no way to live. Someone like you, who is so smart, and brave, and caring, can find all kinds of ways to make our world better. And if you do command again… then they're very lucky to have you."
Vanessa smiled shyly and kissed him. "You've become so wise." She sighed. "You've become such an amazing person, and I'm just falling to pieces, it's not fair to you-"
"Don't. Please," Bron interrupted, his voice quiet but tense. Vanessa's eye widened in surprise. "Don't believe I'm someone that I'm not. I'm not some pure and perfect person. I'm not innocent, or a great hero. If I understand some of what you're feeling, it's because of things I saw and did and regret too."
Vanessa's surprise turned to worry. "What happened?"
He shifted his eyes away. "I want to help you. This isn't a time for talking about me."
And then he looked back, and saw Vanessa's inner core of strength returning. Love and steel were alloyed in the gaze of her single violet eye. "No, Bron. You promised we would help each other. Please tell me what happened. If you're not able to yet, I'll understand, but don't bury it right now and imagine that you're doing it for me."
Bron took a deep breath and nodded, hesitant, and yet relieved at the same time. "Ok. Um… yesterday, during the invasion of the city… Commander Ztren, she was the leader of the defense. Brave woman. York was coming across the Washington Bridge, with tanks. She took her command group there and stopped them, practically with her bare hands. Then… they struck back. They couldn't blow up the bridge, they needed it. So, the F-16's… dropped fire on her." He choked. He had forced himself not to think about it since yesterday, about her screams over the comms, but now he couldn't avoid it. Vanessa stroked his forehead with the back of her hand.
"After that," Bron went on, "Captain Martin, he was her second in command, he used to be a marine, I think… he got really quiet. Then he picked up a rifle and left the room. We never saw him again after that. All the defense officers were gone then. What was left were some scared looking technicians, the civilian officials, me, and Mary. And they all just looked at me, like I'd know what to do. There were all of these junior officers radioing us, asking for updates. Asking for orders. Edwards was demanding backup. I… can read a map, and work with comms. I understand the capabilities of tanks, and battlepods, and aircraft. So I started sending messages, redeploying units, and coordinating with Edwards. I guess, for a little over an hour, I was running the defense of the city.
"Then the first battlepods came over the Harlem River. Edwards told me he couldn't stop them until the rest of his Ghosts arrived, in about half an hour." Bron frowned. "Vee, before the main battle, I accused Edwards of sacrificing the city's defenders to buy time. I treated him like a monster. He said that's what it would take to stop York. And… that's what I did. I started throwing any unit that was near enough into the path of the attack. Anything to slow them down and give us a few more minutes to evacuate the government. I don't know how many people were killed in those last few minutes before we fled and the defense collapsed into a few isolated holdouts. I did that." He exhaled painfully.
"Bron," Vanessa whispered, sadly, and kissed his brow.
"I'll never command again, Vee. You're the one who's qualified to make those kinds of decisions, not me. I'm done with fighting. I don't even want to carry a weapon again."
"You're not a monster for doing what you did. You're just like me. And you have every right to make that choice, to walk away from fighting," Vanessa told him. "You've fought more than enough."
"There's more," Bron said reluctantly. "I already told you, I saw it happen, when the Reflex missiles went off. Aria was there, and got me through the first shock of it. We still had to get to the docks, and launch the boats. Then, Vee… I gave up." Tears of shame welled in his eyes.
"What do you mean?" Vanessa said slowly.
"Once the boats were out in the harbor, and the battlepods were blasting them all apart, I just stood there and watched." His throat closed up as he spoke, making it difficult to get the words out. "Instead of trying to save myself, I thought I'd just wait and see what happened, because I couldn't imagine a tomorrow without you. But then I realized how much that would have hurt you, how you'd never agree with it. I felt like I was betraying your memory. So I started to climb over the rail, and the boat was hit and torn to pieces. I was thrown clear into the water. If I'd waited three more seconds, I'd have been torn apart with it." He turned his head away. "I let you down Vee. I gave up on the world and the people you love, and the people that love me, because of my own selfish grief."
Bron felt Vanessa free her hand from his, and waited for the words of condemnation. But instead she cupped his cheek and gently forced him to look at her again. He almost broke down at the sadness on her face.
"Bron, I'm not going to pretend what you just told me isn't upsetting. Wondering if you were alive or not down here was horrible… and to hear how close you came…" Vanessa blew out a long breath. "But you didn't wait until it was too late. You came back. Not to me, but to the world. And you found me here." She smiled.
"Oh, Vee, please forgive me," Bron sobbed.
"Shhh. You know I do." She leaned in, kissing him lovingly, and the light returned to his eyes. "You came to me, and broke through the barriers I started trying to build. You listened. You've been honest, about everything. Thanks to you, I believe. We can heal. We will. And we'll do it together."
Vanessa reached around and wove her fingers through Bron's hair, pulling herself close for another kiss. She pressed her body against his, their kiss deepening, and Bron's arms enfolded her. All at once, all the pain, all the bitterness, all the feelings of being stained and unclean were banished, at least for a little while. Joy and desire arose triumphant from her soul. The future would wait until she was ready to decide what was right for her to do. For now, that better world, long dreamed of, was right here.
Next week… Epilogue: Command…
Wee, very good little series of chapters. I think that you managed in the end to get across the mixed survivors guilt, impostor syndrome, and self hate but really it took the entire conversation with Bron to really have it all fall into place properly. Don't take that as negative criticism because it was managed and a very hard thing to get right in writing.
Epilogue: Command
Epilogue: Command
The warship's empty bridge was quiet and comforting, lit only by the standby panels. In an hour, Vanessa would meet her XO, Commander Allison May-Reyes, and her CAG, Commander Jose May-Reyes, along with the rest of her senior officers in the wardroom, to go over the details of the ship's approaching launch and at last begin the Pioneer Mission. For now, though, the bridge was her own private sanctuary. Seeing her reflection in a dark monitor, she thought the white jacket, blue half-cape, and red trim looked good. For once, she didn't feel like an imposter. She adjusted her peaked white cap and the strap of her eyepatch, then ran her fingertips across the sensors station, remembering the bridge of the SDF-1. Will this bridge begin to feel like home, one day? Her gaze drifted to the dedication plaque mounted on the bulkhead.
UES JEANNE D'ARC
TOKUGAWA CLASS BATTLECARRIER
UN SPACY REGISTRY SBC-02
LUNAR FLEET YARDS
COMMISSIONED 2017
CHIEF OF STAFF ADMIRAL CHARLES MCCAMMACK
DESIGN ENGINEER: DR. E. LANG
BUILT BY UNITED EARTH GOVERNMENT ROBOTECH SPACE SYSTEMS DIVISION
"I am not afraid… I was born to do this."
TOKUGAWA CLASS BATTLECARRIER
UN SPACY REGISTRY SBC-02
LUNAR FLEET YARDS
COMMISSIONED 2017
CHIEF OF STAFF ADMIRAL CHARLES MCCAMMACK
DESIGN ENGINEER: DR. E. LANG
BUILT BY UNITED EARTH GOVERNMENT ROBOTECH SPACE SYSTEMS DIVISION
"I am not afraid… I was born to do this."
The hatch slid open with a hiss, startling Vanessa.
"Mind if an old warhorse interrupts, Captain Leeds?" a gravelly voice asked, wryly.
"Maistroff?" Vanessa straightened and saluted. "I mean, not at all, General."
General Maistroff smiled tightly and waved away the salute. "Relax, Captain. I see much less point in formality these days. Yet another change that old age and experience have brought on me. Head of North American Training Command sounds impressive, but my subordinates all move paper, and I don't make any meaningful decisions." He strode to the observation port. "So, this is the carrier we've been waiting for. Excited about your new command?"
"A bit," Vanessa admitted, joining him. "Petrified, as well."
"Don't be," Maistroff growled. "You've prepared for this. I knew you were capable of leading even while you were still in a hospital bed, missing half your limbs."
Vanessa smiled. The passage of time had done nothing to mellow his gruff straightforwardness. "I'll try to remember that."
Maistroff reached into the pocket of his somber black coat and brought out a shiny, foil-cased cylinder. "Would you believe this is the same cigar I planned to smoke when I was in temporary command of the SDF-1?"
"The one Sammie scolded you over?" Vanessa asked.
Maistroff snorted, and stripped away the packaging. "As Lieutenant Porter is, sadly, no longer with us, I don't think she would begrudge me finally lighting this in honor of your first starship command."
Vanessa's eye stung. "No… I don't think she would."
They stood side by side and watched the silently blinking lights of the Lunar Yards. Support gantries, arc welders, and small craft formed their own tiny, shifting constellations in front of the two officers as dockyard crews made the minor repairs and refits the Jeanne d'Arc needed after its shakedown cruise in order to be ready for the pathfinder phase of the Pioneer Mission. Maistroff lit his cigar with an old-fashioned matchstick, and an aroma of cinnamon and cedar soon filled the bridge. He exhaled smoke and chuckled softly.
"Hope I don't set off some kind of damned alarm."
"I think I can take care of it, if you do."
Maistroff took another puff, and Vanessa was reminded of Admiral Gloval at the viewport of the SDF-1, his cold pipe clenched in his teeth. She felt an ache in her heart that had never quite gone away. They continued to watch in silence for a while.
"Been a long time since we last talked," Maistroff noted.
"You told me not to communicate with you, in that last message, right before the Battle of Manhattan."
"So I did. And you were angry with me."
Vanessa nodded. "At first. Until I figured out what you were trying to tell me."
"Thought you'd get it right away. 'Carry out your duties and responsibilities as you have previously.' When have you ever been a good little soldier who stayed quiet and did what she was told?"
Vanessa smiled at the jab. "It was the rest of your message, really. That part about the end of the Allied Fleet. Why didn't you just suggest it to Breetai before? Using the disbandment of the fleet as leverage over the UEG?"
Maistroff shook his head. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm no visionary. That was your idea, not mine. I was just trying to warn you. Besides, Breetai wouldn't have listened to me about something like that. He needed to be hit a little closer to home, I think. And you pulled it off- the Zentraedi, Manhattan, reshaping the entire armed forces in your own image."
"That's a ridiculous exaggeration. I only played a small part in all of that."
"Hmph." Maistroff took a deep draw on his cigar, and blew out another cloud of smoke, courteously directing it away from Vanessa. "Perhaps so. But there are certainly a lot of traitors rotting in prison thanks to you. And a lot of Zentraedi and Terran officers in command positions on your and Captain Pentiet's recommendations."
"That's simply justice."
"Call it what you want. Between the reforms in the UN Spacy, the formation of the Global Military Police, and the voting bloc that Senator Nantes is putting together in the Assembly, I don't think Admiral Gloval would even recognize the government and military he left to us."
Vanessa swallowed back her sadness at the mention of her beloved former captain. "You say it like he wouldn't approve."
Maistroff looked over at her sharply. "What? No, Henry was always ready to do what was necessary. What was right. I'm the one who held back change for far too long, set in my ways." He paused, then added, quietly, "You know, I don't regret the stand I finally took, or that it cost me my position." He turned to Vanessa, looking uncomfortable in a way she'd never seen before. "It's just… for all of the power and influence I dedicated my career to gathering and hoarding, you would think that once I had it, I should've been able to accomplish more good than I actually did."
Vanessa didn't know what to say as he stubbed out the cigar and disposed of it. He turned back to her with a pained expression on his face.
"I'm sorry I left such a burden to you and the others."
Vanessa's breath caught, emotion breaking over her. She suddenly found herself throwing her arms around the startled old general. She leaned her head into his shoulder and murmured in a choked voice, "Do you know that, even though you were both so different… when you're near me, Admiral Gloval doesn't seem so far away?"
Maistroff hesitated, surprised by her words, and slowly lifted his arms and held her. "Captain-" He cleared his throat. "Vanessa, they're never that far. You and Hayes carry on the best of all of them. Why else do you think I pushed you both forward, the way I did?"
Vanessa smiled through a sob, and after squeezing him once more, she stepped back and dried her tears with the back of her hand.
"Farewell, Captain Leeds," Maistroff said for the final time. He looked at her from under the brim of his cap with what might have been pride as, this time, they exchanged salutes. He withdrew, leaving behind on the bridge an aroma of tobacco that, Vanessa believed, never quite went away.
The End
Author's Note:
Thank you, everyone who has continued with me through book two. As with book one, it has grown with the telling, and taken Vanessa and Bron in directions I never imagined at the start. Book three will will concern Vanessa's part in the REF's mission. I've thought about the fact that Robotech was a multi-generational story, but, given that it was established in book one that Vanessa's dream is to reach the stars and become an explorer, her story is not complete. Book three, Venture will begin posting in a new thread on the established schedule, starting Wednesday, December 27.
Vanessa Leeds captains the battlecarrier UES Jeanne d'Arc at the vanguard of the Robotech Expeditionary Force's Pioneer Mission. She and her crew of explorers and soldiers venture out into unknown space, seeking a new future for humanity, but as the Masters' empire continues to collapse, sharks gather in the void between the stars.
- Location
- South Wales, United Kingdom
Very nice epilogue.
I really like the conversation between Maistroff and Vanessa. I am probably in the minority but I personally have never had a major problem with Maistroff as a character when we saw him in the anime. Yes he doubted Lisa, Rick and co about the sheer size of the Zentraedi Main Fleet but that was perfectly understandable from an in-universe perspective as they brought back no proof beyond their words. If Lisa hadn't lost the camera then he would likely have believed her when she said how big the fleet seemed to be and the devastating firepower - enough to not just glass a planet but completely blow away the atmosphere in one massed salvo - that it possessed. Firepower that - due to the power drain of the space fold - wasn't fully turned on Earth and only the reflex cannon armed monitors actually fired upon Earth with heavy weapons. The other ships that fired used standard particle and laser cannons - much less damaging.
I have really enjoyed this story. It has been fun to see all the elements and technologies of this era be brought into play and a major hostile power - in the form of the Commonwealth of York - be taken down when it bit off far more than it could realistically chew. I look forward to seeing whatever sequel to this you have planned for the future.
Until then let me wish you a Merry Christmas and I hope to see you - and your very well written works again as there are so few robotech authors - again in 2024.
I really like the conversation between Maistroff and Vanessa. I am probably in the minority but I personally have never had a major problem with Maistroff as a character when we saw him in the anime. Yes he doubted Lisa, Rick and co about the sheer size of the Zentraedi Main Fleet but that was perfectly understandable from an in-universe perspective as they brought back no proof beyond their words. If Lisa hadn't lost the camera then he would likely have believed her when she said how big the fleet seemed to be and the devastating firepower - enough to not just glass a planet but completely blow away the atmosphere in one massed salvo - that it possessed. Firepower that - due to the power drain of the space fold - wasn't fully turned on Earth and only the reflex cannon armed monitors actually fired upon Earth with heavy weapons. The other ships that fired used standard particle and laser cannons - much less damaging.
I have really enjoyed this story. It has been fun to see all the elements and technologies of this era be brought into play and a major hostile power - in the form of the Commonwealth of York - be taken down when it bit off far more than it could realistically chew. I look forward to seeing whatever sequel to this you have planned for the future.
Until then let me wish you a Merry Christmas and I hope to see you - and your very well written works again as there are so few robotech authors - again in 2024.
deathzealotzero
Mecha Guru
- Location
- Las Vegas, NV
I know that I haven't really commented all that much on your chapters Blackleaf but I have still been following the story very closely and I have been quite impressed with where you have taken the story since that first chapter of book one all that time ago. I admit I wasn't thrilled about some posts of the story but I kept quiet and read the story as it went on. And I am glad I did. For it was quite a journey I do admit and I am quite interested in seeing where Book Three will take Vanessa and crew. So Happy Holidays and see you in Book Three!
Once Bron and Vanessa were finally back together, I found there was a lot more that they each needed to unburden themselves about than I had thought - Bron especially. Some of the events that had to be kind of glossed over for pacing were in reality terribly wrenching experiences and choices he had to make. Bron and Vanessa have more in common than I realized.
Maistroff, like Edwards, is one of those characters I have to be careful with, because they turned out to be so entertaining to write, and I could let them steal every scene they appear in. Edwards has to return, but Maistroff, I think, has played his part, and hopefully is not too far off from the retirement that Admiral Gloval deserved but never got.
As for the Rain of Death, you raise some pertinent points that factor in to the coming story. It's a miracle that anyone on Earth survived at all, since the 'demonstration' that Lisa and the others received from Dolza showed what could have happened.
I am so glad that you stayed with us throughout. Posting scene-by-scene is a struggle. I have the whole picture, but the short individual posts can play havoc with pacing, points of view, and engagement with the story. I am hugely excited, because Vanessa, her beliefs and goals, remain at the center of the story, but we move from the drama of book 1 and the beginning of book 2, through the action of the later part of book 2, and now into a time in the setting that promises mystery and adventure.
Thank you everyone for the kind thoughts and feedback so far!
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Book 3: Venture