Battle Cry

by Jack McKinney

  Rick Hunter, however, had strong survival instincts. He managed to reach forward through his stupor and activate the mecha's distress and self-guidance systems. Performing that act brought him around to full consciousness, and at once he realized the Battloid was still receiving transmissions from the SDF-1. The angel who had visited his vision was none other than Minmei.

  Lynn-Minmei, now Queen of Macross.

  Rick watched as she surrendered herself to the audience. He reached toward the monitor as though he might touch her one last time before she passed beyond him forever, a part of something that would always be bigger than both of them.

  Rick let his head loll forward.

  What good was it to wake up to a world he could never enter?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  "You have to look at things from our perspective: An alien armada appears in lunar orbit and launches an attack on Macross Island, the site of the SDF-1 reconstruction project; Captain Gloval, the fortress, and the entire island disappear. The aliens give chase to the ship and leave us alone. Then a year goes by and Gloval makes contact, informing us all of a sudden that he's returning the fortress to Earth, along with 50,000 people who were supposed to have perished during a volcanic eruption. What else were we supposed to tell the planet-that giant aliens had attacked and might or might not be hack? And in addition to this, Gloval still had the armada on his tail, and he's leading the enemy back to Earth! I put it to you, who in their right mind would grant him permission to land? You might just as well invite catastrophe..."

  Admiral Hayes, as quoted in Lapstein's Interviews

  Rico, Bron, and Konda were brought before Breetai and Exedore for debriefing. They had escaped death at the hands of the Micronian ace but had failed to return to the Zentraedi mother ship with any substantial information regarding the unusual transmissions from the SDF-1. As a consequence, their lives were once again in jeopardy.

  Breetai regarded the three operatives from his lofty position above the floor of the interrogation chamber. The debriefing was going nowhere fast, and he was tempted to put an end to it, but he decided to give it one last chance.

  "We will review this again. What did you see?"

  Once more the three commenced their explanations simultaneously. "They were wearing military costumes-"

  "It was armor-"

  "Just looking at them gave me the strangest feeling-"

  "Silence!" yelled Breetai. "It's apparent that none of you know what you

  saw."

  In response to their salute, Breetai folded his arms across his chest and turned to his adviser. Exedore concurred with his plan to send out a second recon unit but went further in suggesting that it might be advantageous at this point to capture one or two of the Micronians alive.

  "To what end?" Breetai wanted to know.

  "To examine them, my lord. To determine for ourselves if they possess any knowledge of Protoculture."

  Exedore whispered the word.

  Breetai considered it. He was directing his thoughts toward Commander-in-Chief Dolza's possible reactions, when another argument broke out below him. Each of the pilots was certain of what he had seen. It was most curious: armor, military costume, a secret weapon disguised as a partially clad Micronian female...

  Breetai allowed the bickering to escalate somewhat, but put a stop to it when physical blows were exchanged. Then he brought his massive fist down on the curved railing of the balcony.

  "Enough of this! You were given an assignment, and you bungled it." He made a dismissive gesture. "Return to your quarters and await my judgment."

  The pilots bowed and exited, leaving Breetai and his adviser alone in the chamber. Exedore had adopted a pensive pose.

  "Of late I have witnessed this same scene all too frequently, Commander. Continued contact with these Micronians has threatened the integrity of your command. Our forces are confused and demoralized."

  "Your point is well taken, Exedore. They are accustomed to decisive victories."

  "I fear that this game of 'cat-and-mouse' will undermine us, my lord." "Then perhaps the time has come to talk to them."

  "I agree, Commander."

  "All right then, consider it done." Breetai grinned. "But we must be persuasive. I doubt they will surrender one of their kind just for our asking."

  A planet was centered in the main extravehicular monitor screen of the SDF-1. Even under full magnification it was impossible to discern any surface details; but that made no difference to the men and women on the bridge, who had long ago committed to memory those oceans and continents and distinctive cloud patterns. Earth! Darker than they knew it was due to the filters used on the giant reflector scopes, but their homeworld nonetheless. From their vantage, the planet was scarcely ten degrees from the solar disc itself, still on the far side of the sun, but there it was: visible, almost palpable.

  Save for the ever-present whirls, hums, and beeps Robotechnology contributed to life on the bridge, you could have heard the proverbial pin drop. Lisa Hayes, Claudia Grant, Sammie, Vanessa, Kim, and Captain Gloval-all of them were transfixed by the sight. But their silence was purposeful as well as ceremonious. They had just directed a radio beam transmission to the United Earth Defense Council headquarters and were now awaiting the response.

  All at once static crackled through the overhead speakers; all eyes fixed on these now, the forward screen forgotten.

  "Captain Gloval," the voice began, "due to the possibility that our security may be breached and this transmission intercepted by the enemy, we cannot give you the information you requested about our present support systems...Fortunately for us, the enemy forces were more interested in following the SDF-1, and consequently, you are requested to continue to keep them at bay and not return to Earth. Repeat: Do not attempt a return at this time. That is all."

  This time the bridge crew was just too stunned to speak. Finally, Vanessa deadpanned, "Welcome home."

  "I can't believe this," said Claudia. "We're expected to stay out here and be sitting ducks while they, they-Oh, forgive me, sir, I've spoken out of turn."

  Captain Gloval said nothing. Was it possible, he was wondering, that after more than a year in space the SDF-1 could simply be turned away, that the council had decided to offer them up as sacrifices? Gloval pressed the palms of his hands to his face as if to wipe away what his expression might betray. It was more than possible, it was probable.

  Eleven years ago, when initial exploration of the recently arrived SDF-1 had revealed the remains of alien giants, the World Unification Alliance had decided to reconstruct the ship and to develop new weaponry designed for defense against this potential enemy. It was a ruse, but it had succeeded to some degree in reuniting the planet. Confrontations during the past year had made it plain to Gloval that the enemy had traveled to Earth to reclaim their ship. Just what was so important about this particular vessel remained a mystery, but it was obvious that the aliens wanted it back undamaged. The spacefold undertaken on that fateful day had inadvertently rescued Earth from any further devastation. In this way, the Robotechnicians had done their job: An alien attack had been averted.

  Gloval was now forced to take a long hard look at the present situation through the eyes of the Earth leaders. And through the eyes of the enemy. Several possibilities presented themselves. The fate of the Earth might still hang in the balance regardless of whether or not the SDF-1 was captured, destroyed, or surrendered. If the Council was thinking along those lines, then perhaps work was under way on some unimaginable weapons defense system, and time was what they needed most-time that the SDF-1 could buy for them. But if the ship was the enemy's central concern, it would occur to the aliens sooner or later to use their superior firepower to hold the Earth hostage. And how could one compare the loss of 50,000 lives to the annihilation of an entire planet?

  Sadly, there was something about the short message that led Gloval to believe that Earth had already written them off.

  When the Captain looked up,
he realized that Lisa, Claudia, and the others were staring at him, waiting for his reaction.

  Full of false confidence, he stood up and said:

  "We're changing course."

  The Zentraedi had grown so accustomed to the Micronians' erratic behavior and unpredictability that it hardly surprised them when the SDF-1 repositioned itself. Where at one time they would have puzzled over the situation and analyzed its strategic implications, they now simply altered their plans accordingly. And it just so happened in this instance that the course change was easy to accommodate.

  Breetai and Exedore communicated their attack plan to Grel, acting liaison officer for the Botoru's Seventh Division-Breetai refused to have any further direct dealings with Khyron. Grel relayed the information to his commander.

  Khyron received him in his quarters onboard the battle cruiser. He had been using the dried leaves again, a habit he turned to in tranquil times, and ingested one as Grel spoke.

  "They've changed course?"

  "Yes, my lord. Already they have recrossed the orbit of the fourth planet, and our course projections show them closing on the system's planetoid belt."

  "Hmm, yes, they seem to fear deep space. Go on."

  "While the Noshiran and Harmesta assault groups are engaging the enemy, we are to choose a planetoid of suitable makeup and sufficient size and destroy it. It is Commander Breetai's belief that the Micronians will raise their shields against the resultant debris-"

  "Shunting power for the shields from their main battery weapons system."

  "Such is Breetai's belief. With their main gun inoperable and their Battloids engaged, Zor's ship will be rendered helpless."

  Khyron slapped the table. "Then we move in for the kill!" "No, Commander."

  "What then?"

  "Warning shots across the bow of the ship."

  "What!-without hitting them?"

  "Commander Breetai will then demand a surrender."

  A look of disbelief flashed across the Khyron's face. He threw back his head and laughed. "This reeks of Exedore's hand. What can he be thinking of? We've chased these Micronians through this entire star system. They know we won't destroy the ship, so why expect a surrender now?" Khyron's gestures punctuated his words. "A demand must be backed up with the threat of annihilation."

  "I agree, Commander. The Micronians have demonstrated a remarkable tenacity. They will continue to fight."

  Khyron thought for a moment. "Suppose they had to fight blindfolded, Grel. Say, without their radar..."

  "But Commander, our orders-"

  "To hell with our orders! I'm not afraid of Breetai."

  Khyron stood up and approached his underling conspiratorily.

  "What we need now is someone to toss to Central Command. Someone willing to admit to a tactical blunder-a misdirected laser bolt."

  "I understand, my lord."

  "Good. If no one volunteers, then use your discretion and choose one...We must take care to cover our tracks, my dear Grel."

  Had Lieutenant Rick Hunter been privy to Captain Gloval's decision to alter the SDF-1's course (or had he been able to read the stars), he might not have been feeling so desperate, sitting there on a bench in Macross Central Park waiting for Minmei to show. But the way Rick had figured it, Earth was only a few months away, and he had to win Minmei before they arrived. For all its 50,000 inhabitants, Macross still felt like a small town; he stood a chance here. Once they were home it would be a different story.

  Rick was not in the best of moods in any case. He was still burning from his most recent confrontation with Flight Officer Lisa Hayes, and now Minmei had kept him waiting for over an hour. He checked his wristwatch against Macross City's new midday sun. A little more magic from the EVE

  engineers and no one was going to care about returning to Earth, he said to himself.

  Since the Miss Macross pageant, Minmei had been all but inaccessible; seeing her practically required a formal appointment, and on those rare occasions when Rick managed to cut through the red tape, their time together had been brief and awkward. She hadn't even bothered to visit him in sick bay after the recon encounter. Still, the field was clear; she wasn't dating anyone. Her picture adorned the radomes of many of the Veritechs, but only Rick Hunter had access to the real thing.

  He checked his watch again and looked around the park. The three bridge bunnies were approaching him. Kim, Vanessa, and...he couldn't remember the young one's name. He didn't feel up to making small talk with them, but there was nowhere to hide.

  They started right in on him:

  "Well, hello there, Lieutenant Hunter." "Who are you waiting for?"

  "Do you have a date?" "Been waiting long?"

  "Is she really beautiful?"

  "Prettier than we are?" the young one asked.

  Rick took a good look at them as they struck mock poses for his benefit. They were all attractive, especially the brunette in shorts. But in his eyes Minmei had them beat. He gracefully sidestepped their further questions and a moment later was rescued by a robo-phone that was cruising around the park paging him. The persistent machine was arguing with someone on a neighboring bench when Rick called out to it. Once, then again and again, adding volume to each shout.

  Finally the phone homed in on him, insulting some innocent as it left the nearby bench. Rick deposited a coin; Minmei's face appeared in the viewscreen. The three women moved behind him to get a better look. Rick didn't hear their surprised reactions at seeing Miss Macross on the screen and barely acknowledged their good-byes when they wandered off.

  Minmei was apologizing. "...It's just that my singing lesson was set back an hour and I'm afraid I'm not going to make it now."

  "That's great, Minmei. The one afternoon I'm not on flight duty and you've got singing lessons."

  "Listen, Rick, they've decided to do a recording session-" "Another new career for the 'Queen'?"

  Minmei's response was interrupted. She turned away from the camera to respond to someone seated at a piano. The guy was summoning her back to practice.

  Minmei said, "Rick, I've got to go," and broke the line.

  The robophone moved off. Rick took a walk through the park, not sure if he was feeling anger or self-pity. He was standing by the central fountain when the city's warning sirens sounded. A general alert, but conditional, not confrontational-an environmental threat as opposed to an enemy attack. People were heading toward shelters, but with such unconcern that Rick was tempted to ride it out where he stood.

  But just then the fortress was struck.

  Rick was knocked off his feet and thrown into the fountain-that fountain that figured all too frequently in his thoughts of fond moments and better times. But he had no time to bathe in waves of memory or irony. The ship was sustaining impact after impact, shaking Macross City to its foundations, and the mood was now one of panic. The "sun" disappeared, and through the overhead starlight, Rick could see an enormous hunk of planetary debris on a collision course with the ship.

  "Sound general quarters!" ordered Gloval as he stooped to retrieve his cap. "Give me course correction options based on the current data, and alert-"

  The bridge quaked with such force that Gloval was thrown from his chair. Fragments of the exploded asteroid Pamir continued their rain of death against the ship. Klaxons blared, and damage reports poured in.

  "Our port side is taking the brunt of it, sir," said Lisa. "Macross is being

  badly shaken."

  "All right," Gloval said, picking himself up. "Concentrate the shield energy there. Divert weapons power to the pin-point barrier system. And get me the air wing commander."

  "I have Skull Leader on the horn," said Claudia. "He reports heavy fighting in the Third Quadrant. He's requesting backup, Commander."

  "Negative. Give him the situation here. Tell him to stand by for recall.

  In a minute we're going to be defenseless."

  Vanessa, Sammie, and Kim stumbled onto the bridge as Gloval was issuing course cor
rection coordinates. The three women strapped in and began to monitor ship systems status.

  It was Vanessa's threat board that revealed the enemy ships. "Enemy destroyers! They're moving into firing position."

  "Those bastards!" yelled Gloval. "Reroute power to the main gun."

  "Sir, Macross City will be destroyed if we lower the shields," said Sammie.

  "You have your orders," Claudia reminded the young tech. "Without defenses there won't be any Macross City!"

  "Confirm enemy fire-laser-bolt signatures!" "Brace yourselves!" said Gloval.

  But no shock came. The SDF-1 was fenced in by blue lightning but left unstruck. And Gloval didn't know what to make of it. All at once, however, it became a moot point: The ship sustained a terrible direct hit. All systems failed on the bride. Presently auxiliary power brought some of them back to life. Gloval requested damage assessment from all stations.

  Lisa reported the worst news: The conning tower had been hit. The entire radar control crew had been wiped out.

  Gloval ordered all engines stopped.

  The dimensional fortress shut down. The enemy had ceased their fire, but chunks of rock continued to impact against it. Debris from the conning tower drifted by the front and side bays. Lisa averted her gaze from the sight of a human body hanging lifeless in the void, a redtrimmed Battloid...

  "Can we raise Skull Leader?" "Negative, sir," said Claudia.

  "Do we have any radar functioning-wide-range, perhaps?"

  "The report from the technical repair unit is coming in now," said Lisa. She listened a moment. "Estimates of ten hours to effect minimal repairs."

  Gloval said nothing; his silence was unnerving to the rest of them.

  Incoming data to Sammie's station broke the stalemate. It registered as code, but unlike any encrypted transmissions they were familiar with. Gloval ordered her to patch it through the speakers. The ever-present static of deep space infiltrated the bridge; then, a voice: deep, resonant, menacing. "In the name of the Zentraedi forces, I order you to surrender. The last attack on your ship was a warning of what we will do. You cannot escape. If