Battlehymn

by Jack McKinney

  These were questions he hoped to have answered before the special session with colonels Maistroff and Caruthers convened.

  Lisa Hayes and Max Sterling were now admitted to the room, and shortly thereafter the three aliens were escorted in.

  Lisa's first impression erased all doubts that she might have had; in fact, there was almost something familiar about these three. Rico put a quick end to her puzzlement.

  "We were present at your interrogation," he explained. "Remember when you kissed one of the male members of your group?"

  Even though that tidbit had been included in her report, she blushed at hearing about it-from a Zentraedi, no less. Rico went on to give details of that meeting with Dolza that were more complete than Rick, Lisa, and Ben's collective recollection. Then he went on to talk about Breetai and Exedore and someone named Khyron, who had been responsible for turning the tide during the attack on Macross City. The alien also mentioned Protoculture and Zentraedi fears concerning a Micronian secret weapon. They wanted to stay aboard the fortress-this much was clear-and more than anything they

  wanted to see Minmei!

  By this time Gloval looked like someone on the verge of sensory overload. His eyes were wide, and his mustache was twitching. "That's enough for now," he said, holding up his hands. "We'll carry on with this session in the presence of colonels Maistroff and Caruthers. And Lisa," he added as an aside, "I want you to request that Lieutenant Hunter join us immediately."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  When one sits down to a serious side-by-side study of the log entries of the two commanders [Gloval and Breetai], a curious pattern begins to emerge which I believe has been overlooked by many of (the Robotech Warsl commentators and historians...And by the time we've reached those entries written just prior to Dolza's direct involvement in the war, this parallel pattern has become self-evident, especially with regard to Lynn-Minmei's importance, the growing disaffection among the ranks, and the defiant stance adopted by both Gloval and Breetai toward their respective high commands (the UEDC and Dolza). It is almost as if two years of space warfare had created what two centuries ago was called a folie. A deux.

  Rawlins, Zentraedi Triumvirate: Dolza, Breetai, Khyron

  "Lieutenant Hunter's presence is requested in HQ Special Sessions chamber immediately." No explanation, no afterword, Rick told himself. What, he wondered, had he done now?

  There had been no sleep following the battle; the fortress was still on red alert, and all available men and women in the Defense Force were on duty. Most of the tech, engineering, and construction crew had been assigned to Macross, where the civilians had organized work details and clean-up was already under way. Indigo and Brown VT teams patrolled the city streets in Battloid mode, wary that some Zentraedi might have survived. The SDF-1 was swept stem to stern for infiltration units, but save for the Daedalus arm and the city itself, there were no signs of enemy penetration. Although casualty counts were not yet complete, there was little doubt that the losses sustained would number well into the hundreds, and this didn't take into account a civilian body count. It would take days to sort through the rubble surrounding the amphitheater alone-a good deal of which Rick and Max had been responsible for after the CD squads had successfully stampeded a horde of Battlepods right into their laps.

  His blood lust quenched, Rick felt like some sort of overstimulated incandescent bulb; sleep, even if it was granted by his superiors, would probably elude him for weeks. And when that burnout point was finally reached, it was going to be one heck of a downhill run to hell...He had been ordered to the Prometheus, where he was supervising mecha triage when the request from Lisa Hayes reached him.

  Standing outside the Special Sessions chamber now, he returned a sentry's salute, tugged at the hem of his jacket, tried in vain to dewire himself somewhat, and rapped decisively on the door.

  The large room was familiar to him from two other occasions-when he had been awarded the titanium Medal of Valor and during his debriefing after imprisonment aboard the Zentraedi flagship. Command would be seated behind a three-sided continuous desk, somewhat U-shaped, above which was the winglike Robotech emblem centered in an embossed Defense Forces silver shield. There were bound to be one or two armed sentries positioned on either side of the door, a session transcriber, and of course some hot seat in front of the desk, which Rick hoped had not been reserved for him.

  "Lieutenant Hunter reporting as ordered." Rick saluted. "At ease, Mister Hunter. That was a request, not an order."

  Rick wasn't about to relax; he quickly scanned the room. Gloval was seated casually below the shield, elbows on the desk; to his right were Max Sterling and Lisa. On the captain's left, as stiff as ever, were colonels Maistroff and Caruthers, burly veteran commanders both, thick fowled, tight lipped clones in different color uniforms.

  Three men were in the hot seat.

  As Rick moved closer, he could see that they were similarly dressed in coarsely woven dark-colored robes. Their strangely unnatural skin tones and hair color varied greatly. And yet there was something familiar about them, something that caught Rick in the pit of his stomach when the three turned around to regard him, something his thoughts and voice refused to make clear but his face betrayed.

  "Yes," Captain Gloval said. "These...men are aliens."

  Rick shook his head. Had Gloval taken leave of his senses? The Zentraedi were giant warriors, killers! Their huge body parts and remains were scattered all over Macross City for one and all to see. Rick had seen to that! But even as his mind was shouting all this to his inner ear, an irrefutable realization was fighting its way to the surface.

  "B-but how?" Rick stammered.

  "Apparently those were reduction chambers that we saw, Lieutenant Hunter," said Lisa, picking up on his confusion and distress.

  "It's pleasant to see you again, Lieutenant," said the gray-faced Zentraedi

  "Yes, not long ago you were in a similar position," added the heavy one.

  A similar position? Rick asked himself. Then recognition joined realization: These three had been present during the interrogation!

  "But what are they doing here, Commander?" Rick held his hands out in a gesture of uncertainty. "Were they captured, or, uh..."

  "They have come in peace, Hunter."

  "Voluntarily and at great personal risk," said Lisa. "They're asking for our protection."

  Rick was stunned. "Protection? Are we supposed to say, 'All is forgiven, be my guest,' or what?" He turned to Gloval. "Have you seen Macross, Captain?"

  "Relax, Lieutenant."

  "Then what do you want from me-my tacit approval?"

  "You're here for the same reason that I asked Commander Hayes and Lieutenant Sterling to join us: because you've had prior contact with the aliens."

  Rick turned to the aliens. They were pressed together on the hot seat couch, expectant, almost jubilant looks on their faces.

  "Why? What are your reasons for deserting, for wanting to join us? You don't know anything about us."

  "We want to live the Micronian life," said Bron.

  "There is happiness aboard this ship," said Konda. "Minmei is here," said Rico.

  Rick was speechless. Did the alien really say "Minmei" or had he just imagined it? All of a sudden he felt nauseous. His voice sounded thin and strained as he asked them how they knew about Micronian ways and...Minmei. And their answer was even more surprising than he had feared.

  "We have already lived among you as spies."

  For Rick's benefit the captain recapped what had been learned in previous debriefing sessions with the aliens. How they had been inserted into the SDF-1 at the same time Lisa and Rick's Vermilion Team had made their great escape; how the three agents had walked unnoticed for weeks through Macross City; how they had made their own great escape from Bird Island; how tales of their exploits and disaffection with war had spread through the Zentraedi fleet; how there were more than a dozen others like them aboard the fortress even now; and how Minmei was at
the center of it all.

  "...And the most beautiful things of all were Minmei's singing and the fact that males and females, er, stayed together."

  "Some people even spoke out against fighting," Rico added. Kyle! Rick said to himself.

  "Once we became used to it," Konda was saying, "we started to like living here."

  "We can't go back," Bron reminded them.

  "And what would be the sense, since it is known that you control the Protoculture."

  All heads turned to purple-haired Konda.

  "Exactly what is this 'Protoculture'?" asked Caruthers, speaking for the first time since Rick's entrance.

  "You know exactly what it is," Bron said flatly. "It's not nice to make fun of us."

  Rico seemed to be sincere about it, but Gloval wanted to avoid the issue

  of Protoculture during this first session. He cleared his throat and asked Rick how he would feel about granting the aliens political asylum.

  Rick had sensed it coming for a while and had been slowly formulating his thoughts. "I would be in favor of it," he told the panel. "If only as a first step toward a possible truce or peace." There was no need to mention the obvious military advantages to be gained once the aliens had been fully debriefed.

  "I can't believe what I'm hearing," said Caruthers. "Just a moment ago you were reminding us of the atrocities that these...creatures had perpetrated on Macross, and now you're willing to grant them asylum."

  "Really, Captain Gloval," Maistroff added, picking up the ball. "Don't you think we should be consulting with someone who has a clearer understanding of this entire matter? I, for one, am not convinced of their claims. This is a ruse."

  "Hmmm," Gloval mused. "Anything you want to add, Hunter?"

  Rick faced the colonels. "The aliens are bred for war and conquest. It's the only life they've known. But contact with our ways has erased who knows how many generations of aggressive conditioning almost overnight. Singing, marriage, love. Even a kiss can set them off-Commander Hayes and I indicated that much in our report.

  "There has to be some attempt made at peace."

  "Good lord, man!" said Caruthers, his fist striking the desktop. "You're talking about living with aliens!"

  Maistroff mirrored the gesture. "They may look like us, Lieutenant Hunter, but don't be fooled: I'm certain that this is some sort of Zentraedi trap."

  "You weren't aboard that Zentraedi cruiser, Colonel. I'm telling you, these three had their first taste of freedom aboard the SDF-1, and the word has already started to spread. By granting them asylum we're demonstrating that ours is the better life. We can create a mutiny in that fleet."

  "If three are willing to desert," said Lisa, "three hundred will, then

  three thousand."

  Caruthers laughed shortly. "Now, there's some nice emotional logic." "We must make them understand that there are alternatives to war,"

  Lisa continued. "If we can get them to understand another way of life, one that's not a matter of win or die, maybe we can change the focus of their lives and live with them in peace."

  "Very eloquent," said Maistroff, applauding, his voice dripping sarcasm. "A truly excellent speech, Commander Hayes. But these are aliens we're dealing with. You can't possibly expect them to adapt to our way of life."

  The three still-couched Zentraedi were turning their heads from speaker to speaker, trying to follow the conversation. Frowns of concern had replaced their initially confident expressions. Rico was about to say something, but just then someone knocked at the doorway and entered the Special Sessions room unannounced. It was one of Lang's white-frocked, glassy-eyed Robotechnicians.

  "What is the meaning of this?" demanded Caruthers. "How dare you barge in like this?"

  The man was carrying a file which he presented straightaway to Gloval, undaunted by Caruthers's reprimand. The captain returned a salute and aimed a dismissive gesture toward the colonel. "I asked Lang to have this sent to me as quickly as possible."

  Gloval began to run through the file, uttering sounds of interest and surprise.

  Max, Lisa, and Rick exchanged glances. "What's he got there?" Sterling whispered.

  "Lang's medical profiles on the aliens," Lisa returned.

  The colonels were halfway out of their chairs peering at the file. "Well, what is it, Captain?" Maistroff asked at last.

  Gloval passed him the file. "I had the laboratory analyze the aliens' cell structure. You may find this intriguing. As a matter of fact, I'm certain you will."

  Save for the sound of pages being turned, the room was silent while

  Maistroff and Caruthers read. Ultimately the file began to shake in the colonel's hands.

  "It's incredible! Why, their blood types and genetic structures are virtually identical to ours! We're effectively the same beings!"

  This seemed to shock the three Zentraedi as much as anyone else in the room.

  "I expected something like this," Lisa remarked.

  "You could be right, Commander," said Max. "We might have a common ancestor race, after all."

  "Well now, it seems to me that we can no longer treat these, ah, people as aliens. I believe we're safe in proceeding with this case as we would with any other request for political asylum."

  "Hold on a minute, Gloval," Maistroff protested. "First of all, I don't think that the results of one lab test should influence the decisions of this council. As far as I'm concerned, Lang's evidence is inconclusive. Lord knows the man has reason enough to want to keep these three aboard. But that's beside the point. And so what if we are of similar genetic background? These men-and I use the term advisedly-are the enemies of this ship and all aboard her. I move for imprisonment until such time as their true purpose for being here can be ascertained."

  Gloval listened closely, nodding his head, then said, "And as captain of this vessel, I say we grant these gentlemen political asylum."

  The three Zentraedi were on their feet hugging each other even before the last word left the captain's mouth. Rick, Lisa, and Max risked guarded smiles. But Maistroff was enraged, standing at his chair and pounding the desk with his fist.

  "We can't make a decision as important as this without first consulting the United Earth Defense Council!"

  "You better hear him, Captain," Caruthers was saying.

  "I accept the responsibility," Gloval answered them firmly.

  Red-faced, Maistroff swallowed whatever it was he was going to say. He motioned to Caruthers that they should leave, but at the door he turned

  and promised: "You haven't heard the end of this, Gloval." "Captain," Lisa said after a moment.

  Gloval acknowledged her.

  "We're going to have trouble with them. They won't let it go at this. They'll make contact with Earth HQ and try to get your decision overturned."

  Gloval turned a weary face to all of them. "We are forced to take extraordinary measures. If the Earth Council wishes to continue denying the facts, then so be it. But aboard this ship I will decide. Let them doom themselves if they wish, but they will no longer sit in judgment of our fate."

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  "Rick, I'm going out of my head," [Max Sterling] would say to me. "I've been searching the city since I saw her at the premiere, and no one seems to know her or know where she lives. I mean, how can that be? I thought everybody knew everybody in Macross! I swear I'm in love with her; I'm going to ask her to marry me if I ever see her again!"

  "...And I remember saying to him, "Sterling, you're going to marry a girl with green hair?" It was a foolish enough remark given the fact that Max had worn a blue tint in his hair ever since I'd known him, but an absolute riot considering who Miriya turned out to be!

  The Collected Journals of Admiral Rick Hunter

  Quadrono ace Miriya Parino did a double take as the Micronian work crew passed her on Macross Boulevard. It wasn't the big smile on the foreman's face that caught her attention-she was used to those appraising looks by now-but the equally silly faces of a gro
up of stragglers who seemed to have attached themselves to this particular crew. This whistling happy-go-lucky subgroup of males-there must have been ten of them-carried their shovels and crude digging implements as if they were sacred relics, and the ear-to-ear grins they wore (not directed toward Miriya, in any case) appeared to radiate from some newfound inner sense of wonder and exuberance. This in itself was not uncommon among the Micronians, even in the midst of all the present devastation, but there was something about the posturing and enthusiasm that led Miriya to believe things were not entirely as they seemed.

  She began to follow them along a course that wound its way through the devastated city streets, across planks that spanned battle-created craters, through the burned-out hulks of houses and buildings, around carefully organized and sorted piles of debris and the slag-heap remains of ruined mecha, and finally into the heavily damaged amphitheater, where the

  workers began an assault on the rubble. Assisted by massive Robotech droids and processors, the men and women threw themselves into the task with an unmatched display of discipline and commitment. The stragglers were no exception to this. But as Miriya moved in for a closer look, she recognized one of them: It was Karita-the Zentraedi officer assigned to the sizing chambers aboard Commander Breetai's flagship! Even those finely tailored Micronian trousers and that cardigan sweater could not disguise him.

  As Miriya began to look around, she recognized several others from Breetai's ship and instantly realized what was going on. She had to congratulate the Commander on a brilliant plan. Obviously the Zentraedi attack against the population center was more in the way of a diversionary action. The actual purpose of the raid was to see to it that a sizable contingent of micronized agents would be inserted into the dimensional fortress. Their mission was to infiltrate the work crews and attain firsthand knowledge of the Protocultural process that enabled the Micronians to effect repairs to their damaged Robotechnological devices-information long withheld from the Zentraedi by their Robotech Masters but something Zor would have wanted them to possess.