Venture [Robotech]

[Blackleaf]

There was nothing particularly surprising about how the refugees were living. After ten years, they had done everything they could to be as well ordered and efficient as possible. Living quarters were built under hanging canopies or inside disassembled cargo containers with a drab, repeated hexagonal motif. There were great stacks of these that went all the way up the echoing cargo bay to the ceiling, where they were secured to overhead racks, so that even the vertical space was not wasted. Thousands of people were packed into the hold, but everything was kept scrupulously clean and well lit. Twice, Vanessa's party passed small teams of passengers wheeling along waste receptacles, visiting each enclosure and hunting for every last scrap of litter. Elsewhere, groups of children of all ages, supervised by teachers, were undergoing education at a small cluster of round monitors, battered, but still serviceable. Further along, about a hundred passengers were queuing up at a secondary bay door, overseen by a pair of uniformed crewmen.

{We eat in shifts, and food distribution is done in a neighboring bay,} Saris explained, {It's an extra layer of security against theft. Three years ago, food ran especially short, before we salvaged a hydroponic module from a derelict orbital platform. There was a riot that year… we took steps to make sure that was never repeated.}

Despite all of the organization, the activity and effort, the cleanliness, and security, Vanessa couldn't help but notice that everyone was tired, a weariness that went far deeper than physical fatigue. The passengers watched the progress of Vanessa and the Marines with a listless apathy, as if even the presence of armed intruders could not stir them. The children watched her with interest, not at all afraid of the strangers and their weapons, but readily snapped their attention back to their lessons at a sharp word from their instructor. There were far fewer youngsters than she would have expected.

These people are tired of surviving. Vanessa thought. Maybe they were tired even before their empire fell. Can we offer them a future that will allow them to truly live and thrive again? As she mused on these matters, the group completed its circuit of the bay and returned to the doors.

{We can discuss the specifics of what aid we can provide after the tour, but I can already see a number of ways the task force can provide assistance that will improve health and quality of life,} Vanessa said as the hatch shut behind them.

{Thank you,} Saris said, looking hopeful. {This will make such a difference to us. It's been an especially difficult year.}

{The Zentraedi are on this level too, yes?} Vanessa asked.

Saris hesitated, clearly caught off guard. {That's right. They have their own quarters, in a different bay, closer to the mecha.}

{I'd like to visit them now.}

Saris licked her lips, looking uncomfortable. {I'm not sure that's a good idea. They aren't prepared for your arrival.}

{I suppose there might be security issues with entering a hold full of Zentraedi who we just defeated in battle. If you're worried about such things, Captain,} Kaden offered noncommittally.

{I am not.}

{I could send word ahead while I show you the food services bay,} Saris suggested reluctantly.

Vanessa folded her arms. {No. I have serious misgivings about the Tiresians' treatment of the Zentraedi, and I want to see the conditions they're living under. Immediately.}

Something fleeting passed across Saris's expression, and then she composed herself again. {Very well. I see I have little choice. This way.}

As she turned her back, Kaden favored Vanessa with an approving smile.

---

Vanessa's party soon reached the bay the Zentraedi occupied, to find the heavy hatch flanked by two unarmed guards. Vanessa recognized them immediately as Zentraedi. They were just as gaunt as the Tiresians, and wore the form-fitting slate gray jumpsuits used by many of the regular crew as a daily duty uniform, but the woman on the left had the clay colored skin tone found only among Zentraedi clone soldiers. They were also both taller and more broad shouldered than any of the Tiresians, and had greater muscle mass, in spite of their limited diet. The black emblem of the Zentraedi Armada, an image like a stylized musical note, was crudely screen-printed onto the faded yellow armbands they both wore. They observed the approach of Kaden's armed detachment warily, until Kaden himself stepped up to the head of his troops, and they caught sight of him. Their expressions changed immediately, first in shock. Then both guards snapped to attention and saluted, thumping fist to chest.

{Hail Dolza!} they shouted together.

Next to Vanessa, Saris jerked to a stop. {They don't react like that when we visit,} she whispered. Vanessa moved up closer to her subordinate, and caught sight of his face. What emotions did she see in his expression? Sadness, pride, discomfort, even guilt? Maybe all of them. Kaden slowly returned the salute, precisely and correctly, though lacking the same enthusiasm and vigor.

{Hail Dolza, my friends,} he said, without his usual careless charm. He motioned for his own soldiers to stand down. {I am not your commander. Why do you greet me so?}

{We recognize you, my Lord,} the woman replied. She was shorter than Kaden and her companion, and the long coil of bright red hair that wrapped around her shoulder stood out starkly against her skin, which was the color of dark clay. She had high cheekbones and a long neck. She looked at Kaden with eyes the color of rubies. {You are of the Kravshera line. I am junior sub-officer Atalal. This is my subordinate, Trooper Pogh,} she added, gesturing to the other guard, a big, square-jawed, dark-haired man that looked identical to scores of other Zentraedi soldiers Vanessa had met. {We are at your command!}

{I greet you, Atalal. But you have heard that Supreme Commander Dolza is dead? That the Grand Fleet is gone, and the Empire is broken?} Kaden asked cautiously.

Atalal nodded gravely. {We have heard of these things, though we have met no one who could confirm the destruction of the Grand Fleet. That is why we were surprised to see you. If I may, are you here to take command of us? We grow weary of taking the orders of civilians.}. She made a face, perhaps emboldened by Kaden's appearance, despite the presence of one of the Shalazar's leaders.

{I have no intention of taking command at this time,} Kaden said carefully. {That is not my mission. But perhaps you could assist me?}

{Of course, my Lord!}

Kaden winced. {I hold the rank of Lieutenant Colonel in the United Earth Forces. You may address me as 'Colonel,' or 'sir.'}

{As you wish, my- sir.} Her confusion was plain.

{Thank you. Now, my Captain wishes to conduct an inspection of your quarters and confirm that your living conditions are adequate.}

{Your… Captain?} Atalal turned her bewildered gaze to Vanessa. {A micronian?}

{Our world is much changed, is it not?} Kaden said sympathetically. {I promise I will explain more later. With your permission, Captain?}

Vanessa nodded. {Of course.} Kaden would be a great help in standing down the Shalazar's Zentraedi contingent. Then they could be processed like any of the other Zentraedi they had encountered, and sent back to Earth for education and job placement or induction into the United Earth Forces. {May we proceed, Atalal?}

{Um, I, well…} The woman's eyes darted from Vanessa, to Kaden, and then, curiously, to Saris. Vanessa thought she caught Saris give Atalal a subtle nod, but couldn't be sure. {Yes ma'am! At once! Pogh!}

Pogh punched in the code to open the hatch, and Atalal led Kaden and his Marines into the bay. Immediately upon entering, Vanessa stopped short, realizing that her expectations of what she would find were far from reality.

---

Next week… bloodlines…

 

[Blackleaf]

{You're all micronized!}

Not one giant was to be seen. Vanessa expected the bay to be packed tight with Zentraedi, but it was surprisingly sparse, perhaps a few hundred Zentraedi, and the compartment was dominated by the towering, gangly forms of battlepods, and further away, the bottle-nosed shapes of Gnerl tri-thrusters, the lean, predatory fighter craft arranged on transport rails. But there was a great deal of empty space, and Vanessa realized that had to be a result of the scores of mecha that Commander Reyes's squadrons had shot down.

{The Micronians would not let us board the Shalazar at our proper size,} Atalal said, her distaste plain in her tone.

{We had no choice,} Saris explained. {When we encountered Atalal's patrol squadron, they had lost more than half their number, and combined with the remnants of Pogh's squadron. Their life support was already failing. They were too many for our ship to accommodate, and we couldn't do anything for their ships. Micronization was the only way. We brought them and their mecha aboard. Our technicians modified the mecha to be piloted by two or three person crews of micronized Zentraedi. We traded living space, maintenance, and food for their protection.}

{Not everyone accepted your bargain. After consolidating all the available supplies, some of my crewmates chose to stay on the most space worthy frigate, and make their own way.} Atalal's tone made it clear that she wondered if those Zentraedi might have made the better choice.

{You would have died!} Saris blurted out, sounding almost angry. {I've lost count of how many derelict Zentraedi ships we've encountered. I don't want to encounter another! At least you're alive!}

{Are we? Sometimes I wonder,} Atalal replied bitterly. She turned a troubled glance toward Kaden and Vanessa. {Now we are defeated and without purpose.}

Saris opened her mouth, and then seemed to bite off the retort she wanted to make. {You could have killed us,} she said quietly, {or taken what little we had and abandoned us to die. But you didn't. And now you have been spared, as you spared us. There's still hope.}

{You use that word to mean something different than the Zentraedi do,} Atalal grumbled. {I must announce you now.}. She stepped over to the hatch controls and activated the bay's intercom. {Zentraedi warriors! We are being visited by the officers who defeated us! One of the Kravshera line is among them. Prepare yourselves, and assemble!}

A murmur spread through the camp, and Vanessa heard junior officers echoing Atalal's orders. With military efficiency that was undiminished, the Zentraedi left their shelters, straightened their uniforms, and formed into small marching units that made their way to the bay doors. While they approached, Vanessa got a better look at the quarters they had built for themselves. It looked like they had scavenged materials from the pilots' compartments of their mecha, a practical choice, since the war machines no longer needed to accommodate giant operators. She was interested in seeing the inside of the shelters, but so far, the conditions weren't so much different than the Tiresians. All was clean, well lit, and efficient, but also grim and cheerless. As the Zentraedi troopers assembled, she saw they wore an eclectic mix of jumpsuits and work clothes that had probably come from a dozen different worlds and starships, utilitarian in design and yet also possessing a few elegant touches as well - embellished, colorful trim, high, sharp collars, shiny, metallic belts, or sashes that shimmered silkenly. Their garb reminded Vanessa of the way her old Zentraedi friend, Arie, had personalized her work outfits during her scavenging days, before she moved to designing new fashion wear for giants. Without exception, they wore the yellow armbands that identified them as Zentraedi, and Vanessa wondered if they were marked out that way to designate their role as soldiers, or to keep them segregated from the ship's Tiresian crew and passengers.

The troops assembled in formation, and Vanessa further noted that while the vast majority of them lined up strictly gender segregated blocks, as they would have through nearly the entire history of the Armada, here and there the men and women were intermixed in small groups. She looked over at Saris, and caught the woman watching her. Saris quickly turned her attention away from Vanessa, and bit her lip nervously. The last stragglers arrived, and Atalal nodded to the visitors.

"It might be best if you explained the situation, Colonel," Vanessa told Kaden.

"Yes, Captain," he agreed, and faced the ranked warriors, who regarded him with a mixture of caution, curiosity and respect. {Zentraedi warriors! I am Kaden Kravshera, formerly commander of the 403rd Battalion, and now an officer in the United Earth Forces who defeated me. It has been ten years since I witnessed the Death of Supreme Commander Dolza.}

Kaden's tone was grave, and his presence powerful. Vanessa watched the reactions of the other Zentraedi, and saw that he held their rapt attention. While Kaden continued to speak, she turned to the master sergeant. "You're with me, Sergeant," she said quietly. "I'd like to begin my inspection while everyone is occupied."

The sergeant glanced over at Kravshera. "Given our situation, is that wise, Captain?"

"I believe now is the best time."

"Yes, ma'am." He signaled to one of his corporals, and the three of them discreetly turned down one of the avenues formed by the shelters and the immense, hoof-like feet of the battlepods. Vanessa wasn't sure what she was looking for, but something seemed off to her, especially given Saris's suddenly shifty behavior. Everything appeared normal. The shelters were simple, but adequate, with walls built from large access panels scavenged from the interiors of battlepods that had been combined with pieces from disassembled cargo containers. Cushioning material from the battllepod pilots' seats served well for insulation material, as well as to pad makeshift chairs and couches. The interiors were as clean as the streets, and all was arranged with proper military discipline. She even found a partitioned area where the Zentraedi had improvised weight lifting equipment out of pieces taken from the innards of several broken down battlepods at the edge of the bay. Personal possessions were few, but little less than she had seen among the Tiresians. Turning a corner, she approached a neat stack of metal crates and found them to be code-locked. Their contents were clearly marked - spare clothing and hygiene items mainly.

"With your permission, we'll arrange for all of these crates to be inspected and make sure there are no caches of contraband weapons or explosives, ma'am," the sergeant told her. "We can do it at the same time all of the mecha are being registered for dismantlement."

"Thank you, Sergeant," Vanessa said, keeping her eyes on her surroundings.

{Captain! Captain!} Saris called out, running toward them from the far end of the street, her colorful gown fluttering and threatening to tangle her legs, while her gold chain belt jangled loudly. The Marines readied their weapons, but kept them pointed at the deck, and Vanessa waved for them to stand down. Saris stopped as she reached the group and bent, hands on her knees, gasping for breath. None of the Tiresians were in particularly fit condition, after so many years of short rations and limited activity.

{Yes Saris?}

{You- you shouldn't be here!} the woman panted.

{Why?}

{Because- because the Zentraedi haven't granted you permission. You should have asked. You should respect their privacy.}

Vanessa frowned. {Normally, I might agree. But in this case, I feel I must.} She turned from the woman, and carefully scanned the street again. {You're hiding something from me. There's something-} She broke off. There was something. An object was laying in the street. Saris followed her gaze and made a small sound of alarm, uselessly reaching out a hand, but the sergeant interposed his considerable bulk between her and his captain. Vanessa strode across the deck, bent down, and picked up an object like nothing she had seen since she left Earth.

A round white face. Black stitching for mouth and nose. Small, synthetic rubber tabs for eyes. Strips of bright green fabric served as hair. A loose gray body, constructed of material cut from a work jumpsuit. The emblem of the Zentraedi fleet was carefully painted on the chest. Loose packing foam provided the stuffing. Vanessa held the doll up where Saris could see it.

{What is this?}

Saris didn't answer, her face ashen. An infant's cry broke the silence of the deserted street.

---

Next chapter…a most exacting superior..

 

[GiovanniBlasini]

Oh damn. At first I was wondering if it was a Minmei doll, but once the foreshadowing of coed Zentraedi units really sank in…

 

[deathzealotzero]

Can't ommander Reyes's squadrons had shot down.

Click to shrink...

Oops. Looks like an autocorrect mistake.

Other than that an interesting chapter all around.

 

[Blackleaf]

Oops. Looks like an autocorrect mistake.

Other than that an interesting chapter all around.

Click to shrink...

Thanks! Some things got oddly garbled when I copy and pasted this time. I thought I had caught it all. Fixed now!

 

[Blackleaf]

Chapter 9

---

{She's beautiful,} Vanessa murmured. The swaddled infant was a soft, warm bundle in her arms. The shaft of light that entered the dimly lit shelter through a narrow window illuminated a round face and blue eyes that reminded her so much of her friend Miriya's daughter, little Dana Sterling. But Dana would be around ten years old now, wouldn't she? Vanessa thought to herself, feeling a pang in her heart. I've been away from Earth for far too long. This child was so young that she still had that look of wide-eyed fascination and bewilderment that Vanessa always found so endearing. The baby reached up with tiny plump fingers and vainly tried to grab Vaness's eye patch, grunting with the effort.

"But I need that, sweetie," Vanessa said, and very gently poked the child's cute little nose. Her eyes went even wider, and she gurgled with delight. Vanessa smiled back, even as tears sprang to her eyes. {What's her name?}

{Regulta,} the baby's mother, Quellan, answered. {I chose the name myself,} she added, proudly. Vanessa knew very well how important that must be to her, beyond even what Terran parents might feel. Zentraedi as a rule had almost no choices in shaping their lives and identities. At the time they were decanted, Zentraedi clones were assigned names chosen by algorithm. selected from a master list of approved consonant and vowel sub-groupings. The idea of family represented frontier territory for the warrior race. For many, the closest analogue that would allow them to comprehend the concept of a family relationship was to imagine that it placed one in the equivalent of a very small and very close-knit military unit.

Vanessa ran her fingers through Regulta's downy hair, which was a vibrant shade of teal, like her mother's, and the infant cooed happily. {A wonderful name,} she said, and looked at Saris, who was watching pensively from a corner of the tiny room. {But why didn't you just tell me? The children need whatever help my crew can provide, more than anyone else.}

{I wanted to tell you, at the right time. I needed to be sure you weren't planning to imprison and punish the Zentraedi. And also, well, the Zentraedi having children, it is a crime, you see,} Saris said worriedly.

{A crime? Why?} Vanessa feared she could guess the answer, even as she asked.

{It is forbidden for clones to procreate. The Masters do not want any random elements interfering with their program to create the perfect beings. The perfect society. Nor do they want any factors that might interfere with their hold over their clones. Most Tiresians support this. The Zentraedi aren't seen as the people's protectors, they are feared, and the idea of them reproducing independently is even more feared.}

{And you…?}

Saris met Vanessa's eye. {I've helped the parents. Helped them keep the children a secret. Helped get the children food and medical care. It's not that difficult. I have access to all the supplies and equipment that are needed, and few Tiresians choose to visit the bay.}

{How many children are there?}

{Thirty-two. Eleven went to the Children's Crèche with the Tiresian children. No one but their mothers and I know that they have Zentraedi fathers. But the ones born here, by Zentraedi mothers, to Zentraedi or Tiresian fathers, are kept hidden. The Zentraedi know about them, but they have all chosen silence. I've taught many of them how to care for the little ones, and they take it in shifts to help the mothers who need to work or rest.} Saris lowered her eyes. {Which is fortunate, because after the battle the other day, eight of them no longer have parents.}

Vanessa drew Regulta tighter against her chest, protectively. "God, no," she whispered. {It was all so senseless!} she burst out angrily. Suddenly all of her arguments to Duy Liem carried less weight against the growing scope of the tragedy. {We would have helped you! Whose idea was it to send the Zentraedi into battle against a completely unknown force of ships?}

Saris remained calm in the face of Vanessa's anger. {I thought you wanted to move forward. Does it really help anyone to assign blame? We did not know you. We were all frightened and irrational. The whole leadership council was involved in the decision.}

{We wanted to fight,} Quellan spoke up. {It is what we do. We were pleased that we had the chance to fight for our survival. Our children's survival. The years have been hard. Confusing. We all feel lost.}

Vanessa deflated. {I'll do my best to change things for the better. If I have my way, you won't be lost much longer. And neither will Regulta.} The baby began to squirm and fuss in Vanessa's arms, and Quellan reached out and took her baby back.

{She is hungry, and wants to be fed. I have found that her needs must be met without delay.} Quellan smiled suddenly, a fond, mother's smile that was universal across cultures and light years, and tugged at Vanessa's heart. {She is a most exacting superior,} Quellan said proudly as she unfastened her jumpsuit and arranged her daughter so she could begin feeding her.

{Is her father ok?} Vanessa asked gently.

{Hm?} Quellan looked up from her nursing child. {The father? He's fine. A Tiresian maintenance technician. We met when he spent several days here repairing a fault in the overhead ventilation. I do not see him anymore,} she said with a shrug.

Vanessa shifted uncomfortably. {He didn't… force you to do anything, did he?}

Quellan looked amused. {No, I assisted him during his work, since it was so high up in the bay. We found interesting ways to enjoy ourselves during our breaks. He was very cute, but if he had tried to 'force' me to do anything, I would have snapped his scrawny micronian neck.}

Vanessa looked at the firm muscles of Quellan's bared shoulders and biceps and decided the woman was telling the truth. {Does he know about Regulta?}

Quellan shrugged disinterestedly. {I don't believe so. He hasn't been assigned to work in the bay for over a year. Does that matter?}

Vanessa swallowed. No way I'm touching that issue, not until the safety of the children and their mothers is guaranteed. It's not my right to decide about that anyway.

{For now, the Zentraedi have agreed with me that it's best if as few people know about the children as possible,} Saris spoke up. {I think there are other parents who have suspicions about the ones in the Children's Crèche, but no one has talked about it openly.}

{Would the children really be hurt if the truth got out?}

{If you're asking whether a mob would form to hunt them down… I don't know. I like to think my people aren't that terrible. But other things could happen…} Saris thought about the question for a moment while Regulta continued to noisily drink. {Kruz would want to punish the parents, both Zentraedi couples and the mixed ones. Astoria is an effective leader, but harsh and insistent, and she seems to dislike the Zentraedi. She might call for all of the Zentraedi and their children to be exiled from the ship. Ryche is less hot-headed, but he values stability. He may suggest that the Zentraedi be completely restricted to this bay except during missions. I don't think Divall will take any strong position. He possesses a great deal of knowledge, but he would want to avoid trouble. And Glana.} She tapped her chin. {She's very practical. She's only ever judged people based on their usefulness to the survival of the whole group. She might say that all of the young ones should be separated from their parents and moved to the Children's Crèche.}

{I will not be separated from my child!} Quellan said fiercely.

{No one is going to separate anyone right now,} Vanessa assured the woman. {Saris, your assessment of the leadership is not particularly encouraging. But then again, the situation has greatly changed. It's not entirely up to the leadership council anymore. I'd ask you what you thought should be done, but given how you've helped the children, I think I know how you would answer.}

Saris nodded. {Quellan, what life would you have for yourself and your child? What do you want?}

Quellan pursed her lips. She gazed down at Regulta, still feeding, but starting to look drowsy. She brushed her fingers lightly across her daughter's round cheek, and looked up at the two other women. {I want… to stop having to hide my child. I want her to spend her days in the open. I want her to be safe, and grow, and become strong. I want to teach her what I know, and I want her to have the chance to learn all of the things the Tiresians know, the things I never did. If the Armada is really gone… I don't know what kind of life is possible, but I want her to choose the life that she wants. To stand tall and fight as a warrior… or… not,} she trailed off. Regulta was asleep, and Quellan wiped her mouth with a clean rag, then nestled her against her shoulder and gently patted her back.

{I may be able to help make that happen,} Vanessa said quietly, so as not to disturb the baby. {But it would mean a lot of change. You would probably have to leave the Shalazar forever.}

{This ship is not my home. It is more like a prison. I am not afraid. Neither are the others.}

{It would mean trusting those you fought against. Those who killed your comrades, and whom you killed in return.}

Quellan lifted her chin. {Death is a warrior's fate. I do not blame you. What would be the point? We were bested, and now it is for the victor to decide what to do. The question is, can you speak for all of your people? Will they seek to punish us?}

{On Earth, we had to find a way to forgive far worse. If you will accept the REF's authority and protection, then I will talk to my commander, and see if we can make your dreams for Regulta come true.}

Quellan held out a hand for Vanessa to clasp. {Let it be so. I will talk to the other parents. They will agree.}

Saris watched the pair of former enemies, one eyebrow raised. She looked like she didn't dare to believe that she might soon be relieved of her secret burden. {I do not understand soldiers at all.}

---

Next week… the conqueror…

 

[ajw]

Nice.

The Tiresians will learn that things are changing and that the authority of the Robotech Masters and their control edicts are coming to an end. It will be a hard transition for them as five hundred years of indoctrination is not easily overcome.

 

[deathzealotzero]

Blink. Huh. Did not expect that at all really? Shrug. Still an interesting curveball. Keep it coming!!

 

[Skychan]

I liked it quite a bit. Good to see they weren't quite stupid enough to treat the Zentradi entirely like second class citizens with less of everything, though that's probably because of the relative monopoly on force the Zentradi have. It will be interesting to see where it goes from here.

 

[Blackleaf]

"After our little adventure down on Altrea, I didn't expect you to voluntarily separate yourself from the group, Captain," Kaden said when she rejoined him. The assembly had broken up, although a good number of Zentraedi still loitered around the area, as if to reassure themselves that Kaden wouldn't suddenly disappear like an apparition. He still wasn't quite acting himself.

"There were things I had to see for myself. I had confidence in you, and I thought it was the best time."

Kaden smiled. "Boldly done. Perhaps even a bit reckless," he teased.

"I wasn't being reckless. I was sure that if there was any trouble, the cavalry would come to my rescue."

"Not cavalry, ma'am. Marines," the master sergeant, still standing guard close by, dead-panned. "There are no, and never have been, any cavalry units in the Marines."

"My apologies, Sergeant," she said with a tolerant smile. "What does our situation look like, Colonel? Will the Zentraedi cooperate?"

Kaden nodded. "I believe they will. They were eager for any kind of information beyond the rumors and guesswork they've had to make do with. They understand that the Grand Fleet is finished, and their own way of life is gone forever. But it is still a shock, after so many years cut off from any other support, and then having to take refuge among the Tiresians."

"Do you think they still feel loyalty to the Masters?"

"Loyalty?" Kaden raised his chin. He was still smiling, but the question had stung him for some reason. "And will you question my loyalties as well?"

Vanessa frowned. "Why would I do that?"

"You questioned my loyalty before. And my motivation."

"I haven't suddenly become suspicious of Zentraedi, Colonel. I want to help these people, but they are strangers, and I have to ask, because Admiral Mbande will ask. What's wrong?"

Kaden glanced to the side, and Vanessa followed his gaze. Among the Zentraedi lingering in the area was Atalal, watching the pair of them sidelong, arms clasped behind her back, standing with one knee bent, and tapping her toe nervously. Vanessa couldn't remember the last time she saw a Zentraedi pretending to be nonchalant, and doing it so badly.

"Forgive me," Kaden finally said. "I am feeling unsettled. They tried to swear oaths of loyalty and service to me. It's been a long time since command belonged to me simply by virtue of my blood. On Earth, my name is a liability. Here, the Zentraedi are looking at me as if I am a savior. And now I feel responsible to them."

"You don't know the half of it. There's more I'll fill you in when we're back aboard our own ship. But I do sympathize. I don't think there's been a single time I've asked for more responsibility throughout my whole career, yet here I am."

"Well, I don't think I'd go quite that far," Kaden said, chuckling. "I once commanded an entire battlegroup of heavy warships. I would not refuse such a command if it was offered to me again. But this… their need and vulnerability, their unquestioning trust. It is not a comfortable feeling."

Vanessa listened, suddenly uncomfortable herself. She had thought that their time together in quarantine was a major breakthrough, but she should have known that it could never be that simple. She really had resolved to extend Kaden her trust, as she was trying to do with the admiral, but there were still times like this, when his expressions, his body language, the things he said, reminded her so much of Khyron, and the thought made her feel sick. She turned to their security detail, lingering just a few steps away.

"Sergeant, the colonel and I need to discuss a few matters of strategy. Privately." Kaden gave the man a shallow nod, and he moved a short distance back. Vanessa shook her head, trying to clear it.

"The REF are ultimately defenders, not conquerors, Kaden. Our mission is so much more than finding the Masters and defeating any opposition in our path. I think we'll see more situations like the one we're facing now than we will the straight-forward battles you're used to. That's why I was troubled when we talked before, and why a pledge of loyalty, however sincere, can't be enough on its own. To swear yourself to a leader or a cause that doesn't align with your most deeply held beliefs… eventually it will twist a person. Or break them."

Kaden folded his arms. "You judge me rather harshly."

"I'm not passing judgment on you. My view of you is biased, and we both know it. You're a good officer. Smart, brave, and ambitious. But then, he was all of those things too."

Kaden gave her a winning smile, his tone flippant. "And what do you think I am, Captain? Am I a conqueror, or a defender?"

He could not quite conceal the undercurrent of bitterness in his voice, that same bitterness that had always presaged Khyron's rages. She turned and faced Kaden straight-on, looking up into his eyes, and her throat tightened. The green undersuit and gray body armor he wore were not so different from Zentraedi battle garb. His thick fall of pale blue hair ruffled lightly in the bay's air currents. He stood waiting for her next words, and there it was, that arrogant stance, the sardonic tilt of his head. It could have been Khyron standing there with his affable smile, about to board his officer's pod and go into battle. The man who took almost everything from her. A familiar heat built in Vanessa, the rush of her blood loud in her ears. Her cybernetic hand clenched in a fist, so tight that she knew that if she downloaded the system logs, she would see a performance red-line. The urge to action was overwhelming. She dragged in a breath, and moved into his space. Raised her hand. Fearless Kaden flinched, but did not back away or try to stop her. And then her flesh and blood hand came to rest on the side of his neck. The composite armor of his backplate was cold and smooth under her fingers, but her thumb brushed the underside of his jaw, and she could feel the rapid beat of his pulse through the tough but thin collar of his undersuit. She held his surprised gaze, standing so close now that she could feel his breath on her eyelashes.

"I want you to tell me, Kaden," she said softly. "What are you? A conqueror, or a defender?"

He swallowed, and Vanessa saw a bead of sweat form on his forehead. How much human contact had he experienced? Yes, she'd once had to ride in his lap, but that had been an emergency, and he clearly enjoyed the upper hand at that moment. But like many Zentraedi, Kaden usually held himself apart from physical contact. Vanessa remembered the first time she danced with poor Bron. When she grabbed his hand and placed it on her hip, he had almost hyperventilated. What did her touch mean to this man who had no parents or family, who had never been nestled in the arms of a loving caregiver as a child?

"Why-" his voice rasped, and he cleared his throat. "Why are you touching me?"

"To defy your expectations. And my own," she murmured. She knew she had shaken him, because he hadn't thought to tease her. "Answer the question."

"I've been a conqueror all of my life."

"I know. Because you were created to be one. Like he - like Khyron was." Bold as she was acting, she was no less shaken than Kaden. Her hand began to tremble, and she pulled it back, holding her fist against her heart. "Are you one and the same?"

"Do you even need to ask -"

"I want to hear you say it. I want to know that you believe it."

Kaden turned his head away and shut his eyes. For a long time, he was silent. He opened his mouth, and still no words came. Then he turned back and locked eyes with Vanessa. "I'm not Khyron."

Vanessa nodded slowly. "You are not. But can you be more than he was? More than the conqueror. The Backstabber? The Destroyer?"

"I find joy in battle. In a victory, artfully won. I am not ashamed."

"I don't want you to be. But are you willing to commit yourself to something greater?" She gestured toward the refugees in the bay. "Will you fight for them, not because they are Zentraedi, or fellow warriors, but simply because they are vulnerable, and need your help and protection?"

Kaden looked over at Atalal, who was openly staring at them. "I will try."

"Then I will try to never again see Khyron Kravshera when I look at your face, or hear his voice when you speak. I will accept your loyalty, as the loyalty of someone who holds dear the same things that I do."

---

Next week… General Quarters…

 

[deathzealotzero]

Interesting! I am really enjoying this exploration into your version of the Zentradi.

 

[Schlock]

And Khyron casts a long and dark shadow. It's interesting to explore the story of one of his clone brothers trying to distance himself from it. It also makes you wonder if there are any Azonia and Miriya duplicates in the REF as well?

 

[ajw]

Very nice.

I really like your take on the Zentraedi and how they are adjusting to there new reality. And Khyron casts a long, dark shadow.

 

[Blackleaf]

Interesting! I am really enjoying this exploration into your version of the Zentradi.

Click to shrink...

Very nice.

I really like your take on the Zentraedi and how they are adjusting to there new reality. And Khyron casts a long, dark shadow.

Click to shrink...

At different times writing books 2 and 3, I've told myself that it can't be a retread of the themes of book 1. But as, I continue forward, the Zentraedi always end up playing an important role, and I think that's because their journey is incomplete. Freedom is only the beginning. Whatever place they carve out for themselves in this new society is not going to be found in a few short years. And yes, Khyron casts a long, dark shadow, and so does Dolza. How much harder is it to find a place in a world where Khyron has likely displaced the memory of Attila the Hun, and Dolza, the memory of Hitler?

And Khyron casts a long and dark shadow. It's interesting to explore the story of one of his clone brothers trying to distance himself from it. It also makes you wonder if there are any Azonia and Miriya duplicates in the REF as well?

Click to shrink...

I believe Khyron has been done before, and I've imagined additional clones of Zentraedi 'extras', but why didn't I consider the possibility for people like Miriya and Azonia? They would have to be out there, even if there were strictures that limited them to one clone to a given size of fleet. A very interesting thought to consider. I recall there was a fiction writer who wrote Zentraedi focused stories, including one set after the end of the series, in which a rogue group of Zentraedi cloned Exedore to mastermind their military campaign, but that was an out and out clone of Exedore himself, not a clone from his genetic line in the typical manner, and the original Exedore ends up interrogating him. It was still a very interesting story. I think the clone aspect of the Zentraedi has been nowhere near fully explored yet.

 

[deathzealotzero]

Also, that is another thing with the Zentradi. Yeah, they are clones and everything but they are like a large amount of copies of a single template, like say the Grand Army of Republic from Star Wars. No, they have a sort of a series of different genetic lines that they are cloned from which does see individual Zentradi of a typical Zentradi Genetic Line being vastly different from one another with slight differences in their looks. If that makes any sort of sense! Laughs.

 

[ajw]

The Zentraedi certainly have a very long way to go if they are to develop there own culture and society. For the first time in over five hundred years they're having to learn to survive on there own and learn skills that they've never had to learn before.

 

[Blackleaf]

"So what are you going to do about the Zentraedi?" May asked, taking a sip from a foil pouch of electrolyte-replacing fluids while she rested on a nearby bench. Vanessa planned to wait for Penelope to take her best swing before answering May. She was distracted this morning, and the young ensign standing across from her on the combat training mat, despite being intimidated by her two superiors, was too aggressive to dismiss as a threat. She thought again of the dazed look on Kaden's face when she touched him, and her cheeks colored, hopefully unnoticeably under the flush of her exertions and the sheen of sweat on her skin. What was I thinking, pulling that stunt with Kaden? In front of all of those Marines and Zentraedi? But she knew she had to do it. Both of them haunted by Khyron's ghost in different ways, they had to break free. It was another step forward. She was no longer naive enough to believe this was the end of it.

And with that thought, of course, Penelope chose her moment to strike. The slightly taller woman, dressed in standard PT clothing, red protective headgear, and padded red gloves, advanced a step, swinging a fist at Vanessa in near perfect time with her movement. Vanessa still managed to duck the blow, but just a little late, and her head was rocked back by a glancing hit. She quickly recovered, staying low, then shifted, and before Penelope understood what was happening, she had a foot planted between the woman's own feet, and a solid hold on her striking arm. Penelope took a short tumble through the air, and landed on her back, expelling her breath in a huff.

"Much better, Penny," Vanessa praised her, once her subordinate's eyes had uncrossed. "Your speed and form are improving every session."

"You know I hate that nickname, Captain," Penelope said between panting breaths. Vanessa raised an eyebrow, and the ensign quickly moderated her tone. "But, I suppose it's ok if it's you using it." She took Vanessa's offered hand and stood up. "I almost had you, that time."

"You did. I'm not focused today. Too many distractions," she said pointedly, looking at May who held up her hands in surrender.

"Sorry! It's just I never expected the situation with the Tiresians and Zentraedi to get so complicated."

Vanessa stripped off her blue gloves and headgear. "Well why don't you take a turn with Ensign Aster, and I'll tell you more?"

"Uh, uh. You know I've never been as good at this hand-to-hand stuff as you. You've taught her too many tricks. I'm not going to explain another black eye to Jose."

Penelope smirked triumphantly, and Vanessa decided to give in. "Fine. Take one more run around the track, and you can be finished for today, Ensign. Meet us at 0600 tomorrow, like usual."

"Aye, Captain! Thank you Captain!" The young woman saluted, and departed with a spring in her step.

"She's definitely getting better," May noted. "Still a pain."

"We can't change who she is, just try to make her a better team member."

"Well, maybe it's working. Malac asked her if she wanted to go get coffee with the rest of the bridge crew after their shift ended yesterday, and she didn't bite his head off. Now, what about the Zentraedi?"

Vanessa dropped her protective gear in a cart to be cleaned, and joined May on the bench. She drank long from the fluid pouch May passed to her, and then held it to her forehead, relishing the feeling of the cool foil, dripping with condensation, against her skin.
"It's complicated."

"The kids, you mean?"

"If it was just the infants and Zentraedi mothers, it'd be easy. I'd move the whole group of them off the ship. I could tell the Tiresians it was for security, and they wouldn't even know about the children."

"Except…"

"Except it's not just the Zentraedi. Some of the mixed couples are still in contact. Still in relationships. Some of the infants are in the Children's Creche, and their Tiresian mothers haven't admitted who the fathers are. Tiresian culture doesn't require that they do so, either, and with Saris managing the genetic testing and child care, no one is going to find out, whatever their suspicions. And then, some Tiresian men are still finding pretexts to visit their lovers and children in the Zentraedi bay. Some are willing to be separated, and some aren't. If any Tiresian leaves with their child, the whole story is going to come out, endangering the ones who want to stay behind - and implicating Saris too. I can't think of a way out that doesn't involve admitting the truth to the Tiresians and convincing them to accept it all."

"Which is-"

Vanessa sighed. "Highly unlikely, considering what Saris told me about the leadership. Somebody is going to be left unhappy no matter what we do, and not just the bigots, who can go hang as far as I care."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing, until I've talked it over more with Admiral Mbande. But I'm probably going to have to plead their case directly to the Tiresians, and hope we have enough leverage to get them to give in and accept the situation. I promised the families I would help them, and I'm not backing down."

"Who knew we'd end up dealing with something as messy as this?"

Vanessa drained the rest of her drink pouch and crumpled it. "We should have expected it. We saw how the collision of cultures played out on Earth since the armistice. Why should it have been any different on a ship crammed full of refugees for years? Nothing has been straightforward about this mission."

"Which reminds me, is anything being done about the incident at Omha?"

"We're not doing anything ourselves, but a reconnaissance squadron is being assembled at Space Station Liberty to investigate the Tiresians' statements."

"Are we in over our heads? All these planets- not just suffering from war or shortages, but annihilated. It's worse than Earth. And there's someone or something out there powerful enough to destroy the very same fleet that wiped out this star system?"

Vanessa looked at May sidelong. "Now who's doubting the mission? Weren't you the one who reminded me we needed to be out in deep space no matter what."

May shrugged sheepishly. "I did, but are we really equipped to deal with this level of danger? I'd feel a lot better if the SDF-3 were at our back."

"Headquarters will have to decide on the acceptable amount of risk. And the SDF-3 just isn't ready yet. They practically had to rip the thing apart and put it back together piece by piece after the Manhattan Crisis."

"Ugh, don't remind me. That investigation went on forever. I thought I'd never escape from that desk."

"Well if we hadn't caught Doctor Allenby's sabotage, Doctor Lang claims the SDF-3 would have been stuck in fold space for five years when it launched. Then we'd be no better off."

"I get it, I get it," May groused. "But my point stands. We've run into plenty of dangers already. What do we do if we encounter something that's really too big for us to handle?"

"Look, I'll make a point of mentioning the elevated threat level in my next report, and hopefully-"

As if May had been tempting fate, the compartment's lighting went red and an alert sounded. Vanessa's skin prickled at the feeling of deja vu as Commander Liem made the announcement.

"General Quarters, General Quarters! All hands to your battle stations! Set material condition Zebra throughout the ship! Reason for General Quarters: Defold reaction detected inside fleet perimeter!"

"Again? I can't believe it!" May exclaimed. "Is every refugee in the sector going to drop into our laps?"

Vanessa shook her head grimly. An entirely depopulated system, and no one but the REF knows we're here. "We can't hope to be that lucky. Let's go, May!"

---

Vanessa and May burst into the bridge, out of breath, and still wearing their sweaty training outfits. Ensign Aster had beaten them there, not stopping to change either. Lt. Commander Liem nodded to his two superiors and stood aside as they moved to the central positions.

"Just like before, no positive ID, although we're closest to the contact this time. No transmissions. Ensign Garo is still trying. Lieutenant Abargil is bringing the air group to ready status. The admiral has ordered us to investigate cautiously while she assembles the task force. Ensign Sertos is-"

"Getting this clumsy tub into position, Captain!" Reda interrupted from the helm, unable to contain herself. Weeks of idle orbiting and pre-programmed patrols had left the younger Zentraedi officer sullen and withdrawn. Now, she looked over her shoulder at Vanessa, eyes bright, her pink pigtails bobbing with her quick, jerky movements. Vanessa nodded to her.

"Conn, steer course-"

"One-four-five by four-seven!" Reda interrupted again. "I'm bringing us to one half full thrust! From that position we can maneuver to engage, or withdraw as needed. I'll keep us steady so the veritechs can have a smooth launch."

"That- will be acceptable, Miss Sertos. Proceed." After the Jeanne d'Arc's first battle, Vanessa had learned to trust Reda's instincts and experience. "Sensors, what do we have?"

"Very unstable energy emissions, Captain! The contact seems to be adrift. The recon team is starting its flyby and I'm magnifying the image on the main screen." The screen activated, and Penelope's hand flew to her mouth. "O Thee mou!" she exclaimed, lapsing into her native Greek.

A chorus of oaths and gasps issued from the bridge crew at the sight that greeted them. Measuring more than two hundred meters from stem to stern, the ship's vertical profile was flat, with a sharply tapered prow like a narrow wedge. Behind it, the main hull flared out to accommodate the massive quad thrusters, the circular nozzles arranged in a single line. Distinctive diagonal fins stood out to either side of the squat bridge tower. The hull was dotted with dual beam turrets, point defense lasers, and rows of launch ports for anti-warship missiles. The armored hull was a cold, dark blue, with a few flashes of white paneling breaking up its outline. But that hull was broken and blistered. From the position of the recon veritechs, Vanessa could see that only one of the main drive thrusters was lit, guttering weakly with a pale blue light that was washed out by plumes of hellish fire boiling out of more than a dozen hull breaches, each big enough to swallow a Stargoose class shuttle. The ship listed, slowly rotating in the empty void of space, displaying the full horror of the damage that it had suffered.

Next to Vanessa, Penelope regained control of herself. "The contact is confirmed to be an REF Battle class cruiser." She paused and checked her instruments. "Getting a weak IFF signal. Cruiser is the UES Gettysburg. Task Force Five."

"Isn't that… that's Straza's task force, isn't it?" May asked.

"Yes," Vanessa said, unable to tear her eye from the screen. "It is."

---

Next chapter… Line of Battle...

 

[deathzealotzero]

"Well if we hadn't caught Doctor Allenby's sabotage,

Click to shrink...

Huh. What happened with this? I do not remember.

Also! Woah! Talk about a large wake up call!!

 

[ajw]

Good that they caught the sabotage of the SDF-3. They're certain to need her firepower soon. Though I wonder who attacked the Gettysberg.

 

[Blackleaf]

Huh. What happened with this? I do not remember.

Also! Woah! Talk about a large wake up call!!

Click to shrink...

The attempted sabotage is a reference to the period between the last chapter of book 2 and its epilogue. Admiral Hayes assigned Vanessa to the investigation of treasonous activity in the UN Spacy, after it became public that traitors had passed Reflex weapons to York. Every new ship under construction was inspected for potential sabotage, and in the case of the SDF-3, it was found. This is why, even with the benefit of the Factory Satellite and the very fast production times Robotechnology enables, the preparations of the REF have taken nearly 8 years so far. In the case of the SDF-3, it might have been faster to just start over, but there were too many sunk costs, and too much prestige on the line.

Good that they caught the sabotage of the SDF-3. They're certain to need her firepower soon. Though I wonder who attacked the Gettysberg.

Click to shrink...

They do indeed need the SDF-3. For those who have been putting together the various references to the passage of time in this book, it is no spoiler to note that we are less than a year away from the launch of the SDF-3 and the REF main fleet...

 

[ajw]

They do indeed need the SDF-3. For those who have been putting together the various references to the passage of time in this book, it is no spoiler to note that we are less than a year away from the launch of the SDF-3 and the REF main fleet...

Click to shrink...

A main fleet that includes heavy ships like the Takeru-class artillery cruiser which is built around a reflex cannon.

 

[Blackleaf]

Chapter 10

---

"I've ordered Piraeus to dock with the Gettysburg, despite the risk, but it will still take days to get the fires under control and confirm that all surviving crew have been evacuated," Admiral Mbande told Vanessa. She had chosen to remain in the Operations Center, rather than discuss the situation in a briefing room, so that her staff would be close at hand with any updates. They stood together in the elevated command pulpit, enclosed by a semi-circle of monitoring and communications consoles. The heart- wrenching real-time image of the stricken cruiser was stretched across an eight meter long overhead monitor. The detail was sharp enough for Vanessa to track on the movements of the cloud of medical shuttles, engineering craft, and veritechs that surrounded the brutalized warship.

"Days," Vanessa said, "but we can't afford to wait that long."

"Correct." Mbande's face was the same icy mask that it had been each time Task Force 2 went into combat. "We will have to leave, and soon, or, given the amount of damage the Gettysburg sustained, there may be no one else left from Task Force Five to rescue." Next to the image of the burning cruiser, a wire frame schematic showed the ship's systems, almost entirely highlighted in red, and scrolled a litany of damaged or destroyed sections.

"What have the crew been able to tell us?" Vanessa asked.

"Very little. We haven't recovered anyone from the Gettysburg's command or operations staff who is in any condition to speak to us yet. What we know is that Task Force Five folded into an uncharted system, then a few hours later, went into action against Zentraedi ships. Only minutes after engaging, the captain gave orders for an emergency space fold, and then seconds before the fold was executed, the Gettysburg was struck numerous times. The ship barely held together. As the nearest friendlies, we will have to retrace her course, and assist Task Force Five. Space Station Liberty has already been notified. I have no timeline for additional ships to arrive."

"How soon do you plan to fold?"

"As soon as the majority of the wounded we have already rescued can be shuttled over here." Vanessa nodded. The Jeanne d'Arc had the largest and best medical facilities in the task force. "This presents us with some difficulties."

Mbande tapped her console and lit up another of the large monitors. A roster of the ships currently in the system appeared. At the upper left of the hierarchical chart, outlined in blue, was the vast bulk of the Jeanne d'Arc. Below it were the Battle class cruisers, Manhattan and Trenton, and further down, the slim, dagger profiles of the Banshee class destroyers, Medusa, Minotaur, Harpy, Changeling, Kelpie, and Dunhulla. To the right were the support ships, the big, boxy Mulberry class fleet tenders - Piraeus and Lothal, along with their task force's science ship, the modified destroyer, Phobos. Standing apart from the others, the silhouette of the cruiser Gettysburg flashed a baleful red, while the freighter Shalazar was outlined in yellow.

"The Gettysburg cannot endure another space fold, and must stay," Admiral Mbande said, highlighting the ship with a touch to her command display. Its icon grew, and the other ships shrank, sliding to the far side of the screen. "The Piraeus must stay to render aid. And the Shalazar must also remain. None of them are capable of defending themselves." She broke both of those ships away as well, dragging them over to join the Gettysburg.

"Which means we'll have to leave one of our cruisers, since whatever escort we leave will need to be able to deploy a fighter screen," Vanessa noted. The forty-eight veritechs a Battle class cruiser carried was inadequate to cover four major ships, particularly when three of them were lacking in defenses, but there was little choice.

"Indeed." Mbande agreed. Trenton separated from its sister ship, Manhattan, and joined those being left behind. "Already, our forces are divided and reduced, before we have even left to confront a foe that has overcome a task force of equal strength to ours."

"I'm no stranger to fighting outnumbered," Vanessa said, trying to take heart from her experience on the SDF-1, beating the odds time and again.

"Admiral, update from the flight deck!" An aide called up from one of the rings of stations below them. "The next group of shuttles is about to dock."

"I'll go to Sickbay and meet the wounded as they're brought in," Vanessa said. "Maybe someone among the latest arrivals can give us information that will help us prepare."

"And prepare, we must. I want to fold as soon as the last wave of medical shuttles returns from the Gettysburg. Understand, Captain, this time there will be no negotiation," Mbande said sternly. "We fold directly into battle, against an enemy that is there to kill us, not to preserve and capture us, as they would have the SDF-1."

Vanessa did not flinch under the admiral's stare. "I do understand, ma'am. We will be ready." That's Straza out there. My friend. I'm not going to fail her. Vanessa leaned over one of the comms consoles and opened a ship-wide channel. "Now hear this! This is the Captain! All hands, secure for space fold, and clear for fleet action! I repeat, fleet action is imminent!"

---

Next week… triage..

 

[Blackleaf]

A main fleet that includes heavy ships like the Takeru-class artillery cruiser which is built around a reflex cannon.

Click to shrink...

I had not heard of that ship class before. I looked it up and it's a beautiful ship design, with a satisfyingly 80's Macross vibe. I think I missed most of the concept material floating out there for Robotech Academy. Sad that it didn't make it off the ground. I was going to say that I'm not sure how the Takeru class would fit into the timeline, given that the REF doesn't seem to employ Reflex cannons in the broadcast series or Sentinels and comics (barring the SDF-3, which spends the entire series criminally underutilized in orbit over Tirol. What's even the point?) Their presence would seriously alter the balance of power wherever they were deployed. But then, it doesn't really matter for my storyline because all I need is for whatever plot I come up with to not directly contradict the broadcast Southern Cross and Invid Invasion episodes, giving me a fair bit of freedom to maneuver in, so they might eventually show up in Venture, or might not.

A shorter than usual post tonight, following longer than usual posts for the previous chapter. I need to be careful, because my workload heavily cut into my writing time for the last six weeks, and I'm only starting to get back to a normal amount of writing time again. Next week should be more typical. I hope you all enjoy!

 

[Blackleaf]

Vanessa would not soon forget the sights she beheld in her ship's sickbay. Not since Khyron's last ditch attack on the SDF-1 had she witnessed Earth's forces suffer this many casualties. Every bed was already filled, and still the wounded were arriving by the score, suffering from lacerations, crushed limbs, and most common of all, terrible burns. She knew the docking bay was already lined with row upon row of body bags, and their fallen comrades would receive no further attention until everything had been done that could be to save the living. She didn't bother trying to find Chief Surgeon Mika Makade, because she knew the woman would already be performing surgery, or preparing for it. Instead she walked past blue-gray bulkhead panels, monitors crowded with patients' vitals, and long lines of gurneys, each occupied by a groaning REF officer or enlisted crew person. Far outnumbered, clusters of scrub clad Jeanne d'Arc medical personnel made their way down the line, updating charts, treating wounds, dispensing medication, or frantically attempting to resuscitate critical cases. She sought out one of the medical technicians assisting with intake and triage of the newest arrivals. She hated to interrupt, but the whole task force's survival might depend on whatever intelligence she might be able to glean in the remaining moments before they folded.

"Petty Officer!" she called out, approaching a disheveled crewman who was standing over yet another burn victim, their blistered skin slathered in blue gel, tapping the patient's information into his data pad.

"A moment!" he called back distractedly, finishing his entry, and starting as he looked up at Vanessa. He came to attention and saluted. "Captain! I'm sorry!"

Vanessa waved off his salute. There was no time for ceremony here. "Nevermind, Petty Officer. It's vital I get more information from the crew of the Gettysburg. Has anyone come in from the bridge or any other area of operations that might be able to tell us what opposition they encountered?"

Petty Officer Ruiz frowned. "I'm not sure. The bridge was hit, probably right before the ship folded out, and Search and Rescue hasn't been able to cut a way into engineering yet. But…" he studied his data pad, scrolling back through the too long list of patients. "Here!" He said, stabbing the touch screen with his finger triumphantly. "Follow me!"

He led her down a corridor that reeked of smoke and melted plastic, explaining briskly as he went. "Lieutenant Menda Vetzev. She was in the lower Fire Control center. The compartment wasn't hit, but a nearby fire overwhelmed life support and turned the room into an oven. She's being treated for heat exhaustion and shortness of breath."

They arrived at another triage area crowded with injured Gettysburg crew, and Ruiz led Vanessa to the lieutenant's bedside. Vanessa recognized, just as she had suspected, a Zentraedi of the Vetzev clone series, just like her own ship's chief ordnance officer. The woman looked to be in her very early 20's, though as a clone, that indicated little of her true age, and her skin was deep red from the terrible heat she had endured. Her jacket had been cut away so that she could be surrounded by cool compresses, and her slate gray hair hung lankly over the side of the gurney, dripping sweat like the rest of her body. She was fitted with an oxygen mask, but she was still conscious and able to speak. A doctor and nurse were tending to the officer, fitting her with an IV bag to replace the enormous amount of fluids she had lost.

"I need to speak to your patient," Vanessa told the doctor. "It's vital."

The doctor nodded. "Just for a moment. She's in danger of going into shock, and I'm not happy about her breathing."

"I understand. Thank you, Doctor. Lieutenant Vetzev? I'm Captain Leeds of the Jeanne d'Arc."

Vetzev shifted her head weakly. "Captain?" she rasped, and coughed wetly. Vanessa frowned. She didn't want to do this. This woman had already endured so much, and now she was going to have to ask for even more.

"I'm sorry Lieutenant. We will help you, but I need you to tell me about the battle. What can you remember?"

Vetzev nodded. "Don't know all of it. They- Zentraedi ships. Already there when we defolded. Don't know how the shooting started. They shot first. Hit Guerrero in the drive section. We returned fire, for a few minutes. Scored some hits. Got the order-" she coughed again, and it took her a moment to catch her breath, which was now very shallow. "- order to prepare to fold away. Then we were hit… so many times. The ship nearly came apart, right before the fold." The doctor was frowning, and began listening to his patient's chest through his stethoscope.

"Lieutenant, it's very important that I know what ships were part of the force that attacked us," Vanessa said. "My crew will have to face them soon."

Vetzev dragged in a deeper breath with difficulty and her brow furrowed as she tried to remember all the details she could. "Queadol Magdomilla…" she said, lapsing into Zentraedi. "Four Thuverl Salaan. We destroyed one. Fifteen Tou Redir. Think… twelve were still in action when we folded…"

Vanessa kept her expression neutral, but her heart sank. The Zentraedi force was a mirror of Task Force 2, only stronger. Queadol Magdomilla, a strike force command ship, like the one Captain Gotta commanded, that destroyed the army of York during the battle of Manhattan. Like the ship Khyron had commanded at the height of the Robotech War. Fast, heavily armed, and with a large complement of mecha. Its forward strike module, when detached from the primary hull, was alone more than a match for the Jeanne d'Arc's weapons. Their remaining cruiser, the Manhattan, would be a better opponent to its counterpart, the Thuverl Salaan heavy cruiser, but not at three-to-one odds. Their Banshee class destroyers might be able to outmaneuver the Zentraedis' own Tou Redir frigates, but overall, the REF force, as the SDF-1 had so often during the war, would have to rely on the superiority of the veritech fighters, and hope that Task Force Five had inflicted serious damage on their attackers after the Gettysburg folded out. But Lieutenant Vetzev wasn't finished. She laboriously took in another breath.

"Also, one Quiltra Queleual…" she rasped, and started another coughing fit.

"What?" Vanessa exclaimed. "You're sure, Lieutenant? Was it the troop carrier variant?"

Vetzev couldn't stop coughing, and raised a shaking hand, trying to gesture. The doctor moved in, his face grave. "That's going to have to be all, Captain. She's suffering from pulmonary edema. We have to put her on a ventilator immediately, or she's going to asphyxiate in front of us."

Vanessa backed away, shaken. "I - I understand, Doctor. I'd like to be personally updated on her recovery." The doctor waved a half-hearted acknowledgment, and set to work. Vanessa turned on her heel and began marching back out of the Sick Bay.

"Captain?" Ruiz called out, confused. "What's a Quiltra Quel-Quel-whatever it is? Is that bad?"

"Thank you, Petty Officer, that will be all. I'm sure there are other cases needing your attention," Vanessa called back over her shoulder, not deviating from her path through the chaos. She couldn't tell him, couldn't have rumors spreading through the enlisted crew right before a battle. She needed to prepare. Quiltra Queleual. Zentraedi multi-purpose transport. The cylindrical vessels topped out three kilometers long, outmassing the entirety of Vanessa's task force. They could supply an entire battlegroup in their fleet support configuration, and if it was the landing ship variant… Twelve-thousand battlepods! Vanessa thought, staggered by the odds they now faced. The REF planning staff had been confident that the heaviest Zentraedi opposition the Pathfinder Mission would face would be scattered squadrons of light patrol frigates, with the odd cruiser here and there. As the years passed, that confidence had grown. Why now? Why that star system? Why such a powerful force? May was right, we need the SDF-3. But there would be no SDF-3, no backup. If they were going to save Straza and the others, they were going to have to figure out a way to pull a rabbit out of a hat.

---

Next week… assembly…

 

[ajw]

Ouch.

That's a very dangeeous enemy force one they'll need heavy ships to rwally fighr against. Be interesting to see what happens next.