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Chapter Text

"Of course everyone praises Captain Gloval for his control of the [Macross City] situation. The whole island was decimated by the disastrous fold to Plutospace and its inhabitants left completely homeless. Rebuilding the city within the ship was a stroke of genius on Gloval's part; not only did it give the civilians a place to go, but it served to keep morale up and remind the officers of the RDF what they were fighting for.

"But in all the rush, very few people thought of those who lost everything."

- Altaira Heimel, Butterflies in Winter: Human Relations and the Robotech Wars.

Max's arm was almost numb. He couldn't help but think that this Lieutenant Commander Fokker was a bit long-winded.

Anna was starting to get heavy on his shoulders.

"Today, ladies and gentlemen, you'll see how we've applied Human know-how to understanding and harnessing a complex alien technology," Fokker was saying on the stage.

Max bounced his younger sister slightly so as to change positions a bit. He was becoming more and more uncomfortable with each moment.

"Anna," he pleaded, "the real action is going to be straight up anyway. Can't you come down?"

"I like his uniform," the eight-year-old commented.

"Aren't you a little young for that?"

"For what?"

"Keep your eyes on planes two and four," Fokker commanded the crowd as a squadron of fighters flew overhead. Max struggled to see around his sister. Two and Four peeled off from the formation and did barrel rolls.

"Hey, Max, what kind of plane is that?" Anna asked, pointing a way behind the RDF formation.

An orange fanjet went thundering after the fighters. Around Max and Anna the crowd was beginning to laugh.

"Oh, no," Fokker moaned from the stage, "Rick! Is that you Hunter?"

So Fokker knew the guy. Whoever was flying the little orange circus plane sure had a wish to be arrested.

"Hey, there's mom and dad," Anna suddenly exclaimed pointing to the back of the crowd.

Max let Anna climb down from his shoulders and he barely managed to grab her hand just before she went racing toward the back of the crowd to their parents.

"So, did we miss anything?" their father asked, allowing Anna to climb him instead of Max.

"Just some yahoo in a circus plane," said Max.

"It was really funny," Anna embellished, "he and the guy on stage were talking over the radio, but it was left on so we could all hear what they were saying."

Mr. Sterling laughed out loud. "I imagine he'll be hearing about that later."

"It's eleven o'clock," Mrs. Sterling commented glancing at her watch, "the exposition grounds should be open now."

Max brightened. A chance to see the new planes up close! That was what he'd been waiting for. The things had been classified until that day and Max was itching to see them.

"Yeah! I'm there!" he exclaimed.

"Maxie, can I come, too?" Anna inquired.

"Do ya' hafta?" Max appealed, sighing the sigh that older brothers do when younger siblings want to tag along.

"Max, behave yourself," his mother scolded, "your father and I are going to go catch the ground base tour. Take care of your little sister."

"Oh all right," Max ceded as Anna climbed down again, "but you're walking."

"Okay," Anna agreed, "see ya' later," she added to their parents and bounced next to Max as they walked off.

"C'mon, Fuzzhead," Max commanded.

"Don't call me that!"

"Well, that's what you are."

"Try not ta drool, four eyes," a pilot said as he spotted Max staring intently at one of the new fighters.

Max barely cast a glance at the larger, arrogant man. "Who says I'm drooling, moron."

"Ooh, little four eyes fights back," cooed the pilot.

"Hey, dork," Anna spoke up, "why don't you find one of your own to pick on."

"Wasamatter kid? Your brother ain't got no guts?"

"C'mon, Anna," Max commanded leading his sister away from the audacious pilot.

"But Maxie-"

"I said, c'mon."

"Maxie!" the pilot teased.

Out of the corner of his eye, Max spotted an object flying toward them. He acted on reflex, striking out with a fist and knocking it aside. A moment later, he heard the shatter of glass on the ground. He turned back to the pilot with steady eyes. "Watch it, you sonofabitch."

"What're you gonna do, call me names?"

The mounting tension was suddenly broken by a rising, Earth-shaking pitch coming from the general direction of the SDF-1's bow.

"What the-" Max got out just before the entire world turned blazing hot around them. He dropped to the ground, pulling Anna under himself and covering both their heads.

Later Max would recall that this was the moment he'd prayed the fastest.

Then, it was over. Slowly Max and Anna rose and looked around. Max's shirt felt ten times more itchy, as though he had a bad sunburn.

"What was that?" Anna breathed.

"I dunno," said Max. He looked to the pilot and fount that he, too, was slowly getting up and looking around. All three started when they heard the unmistakable whine of sirens blare across Macross Island.

"Better get to the shelters, four eyes," the pilot threw over his shoulder while running in the direction of a certain building.

"Dweeb!" Anna called after him.

"C'mon!" Max commanded, yanking her arm and running toward the nearest shelter.

Fifty-seven. That was the number of cracks in the cement floor of the shelter. Max wished he could fall asleep as easily as his sister had. But cement wasn't a very comfortable sleeping surface and, unlike Anna, Max didn't have a lap to sleep on. He sighed and gave Anna's head a quick pet.

Anna awoke with a small moan. "You woke me up."

"Sorry, Fuzzhead."

"Don't call me that," she said, sitting up, "what's going on outside?"

As if to punctuate her question, the rat-tat-tat of gun fire could be heard through the door. The RDF officer in charge of the shelter looked around a small curtain and glanced outside. Apparently finding nothing of consequence to them, he flipped the safety of his gun back on.

"Maxie, where's mom and dad?" Anna asked.

"I wouldn't worry," said Max, almost as much to clam himself as to calm Anna, "they're probably in a shelter closer to the ground base. They're somewhere safe, they aren't too stupid after all."

The whole shelter started to rumble and sand started to flutter down upon them. Everyone in the shelter covered their heads reflexively. The rumble lasted a good long time, even coming to a peak with what sounded like a very large crash. Then it stopped and a moment later, started up again and faded off.

The RDF officer put a hand to the headset he was wearing and listened for a moment. After taking another glance out the window, he turned to the group and said, "All clear, we can leave now."

There was a collective sigh of relief from the shelter's occupants as they all rose and crowded near the door. The officer opened the large, heavy-duty lock and swung the door open. Everyone flowed out and surveyed their surroundings.

"Max, look!" Anna exclaimed, pointing. "The SDF-1's gone!"

Max looked toward the center of the city and found a gaping hole where the massive ship used to sit. "That must have been that big rumble."

"Whoa," breathed Anna, taking a few more steps out into the light. "Look at that!" she said pointing to a spot on the horizon. Max looked to it just in time to see a blaze of light go streaking across, like a shooting star. "What do you suppose that is?"

Max didn't answer, eyes transfixed on the landscape and unmoving. Everyone else around him was beginning to move into the light and look around.

Suddenly, the rumble returned and everyone looked to the sky.

What they saw was the dorsal side of the SDF-1 descending toward the island.

"Shit!" The RDF officer exclaimed. "Everyone back in the shelter!"

An overeager woman near Anna whipped around and knocked into the girl. Anna went tumbling to the ground.

"Anna!" Max exclaimed, trying to get to his sister. He found himself entangled in a mess of Human bodies, being pulled toward the shelter door.

"Max!" Anna called, trying to get to her feet but finding she could not stand on an injured ankle.

Max struggled with the crowd, a sudden panic welling up from somewhere inside. Frantically, he tried to break through both the crowd and the panic and get to Anna, but he soon found himself inside the shelter and heard the RDF officer slam the door shut.

"My sister's still out there!" Max shouted.

The officer glanced out the window. "Oh my God!" he exclaimed.

Just then, all weight seemed to leave Max and he found himself floating in the air near a wall. He pushed off and floated toward the officer.

"What's going on out there? My sister's still out there!" He reached for the curtain and tried to pull it aside so he could see out, but found that the officer was pushing him back and holding down the piece of cloth.

"Back off, there's nothing you can do."

"That's my little sister out there!" Max shouted shoving the officer aside and pulling back the curtain.

His eyes were greeted by a black star field, broken only by floating debris. He gasped as he identified a hand behind a piece of cement. A body floated into view and Max could only stare at it, breath caught in his throat.

Anna.

Max suddenly found himself very ill and turned from the window in shock, placing a hand over his mouth to keep from vomiting. The officer pushed him away from the window, toward a corner where he came to a stop with a small thud which he hardly noticed.

"What's out there, anyway?" asked the woman who had knocked Anna over.

The officer hesitated, then pulled the curtain back so everyone could see. "Outer space."

The shelter went deadly silent as various people clung on to others.

Max, alone in the corner, simply curled into a ball and allowed the tears to come unbidden.

He didn't know how long he stayed like that. The next thing his mind registered was a hand on his shoulder. He turned and found the RDF officer looking at him intently.

"Hey, kid," he said, "I need to know the name of your sister."

Max didn't retract from his ball in the slightest. "Sterling, Anna Dana," he stated with a small, trembling, yet strangely monotone, voice.

The officer punched a few keys on a small palm top. "Listen," he said, "I've noticed you're alone. Do you have any other relation in Macross City?"

Max didn't answer for a moment.

"Hey, kid?"

"James William Sterling and Allegra Philby Sterling. They're my parents."

The officer punched a few more buttons. "I'll see what I can do about finding 'em." He left and Max retreated back into his emotionless void of a world within his own mind.

After another indeterminable amount of time, Max felt the officer's hand on his shoulder again.

"Are you Maximilian Anthony Sterling?" he asked.

Max nodded, slowly.

The officer looked to the floor of the shelter and Max obtained an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm sorry," said the officer, "you're parents were killed when one of the shelters was blasted open by enemy fire."

Max looked away from the officer and tightened himself further into his ball.

"Kid?" he vaguely heard.

Max drew into himself and allowed everything else to fade into the distance.

He was truly alone.

Max awoke in a room that was too white. He connected a sharp sting in his arm to his awakening and started. Two faces were leaning over him, looking down.

"Well, welcome back, Mr. Sterling," said the bearded man, "we were beginning to wonder about you." He nodded to the woman next to him, who silently left the room.

"Where am I?" Max mumbled, trying to sit up.

"You're in the infirmary aboard the SDF-1. I'm Doctor Cokott. You've been in a severe state of shock for the past twenty-four hours and we had to give you a shot of adrenaline to wake you. Here, drink this."

Cokott handed Max a glass of water. Trembling with lack of food, he took it and downed it without stopping. When he was finished, he handed the glass back.

"Would you like something to eat?" Cokott asked.

Max nodded, somewhat numbly.

"All right. I'll go find you something. You just get some rest," Cokott stated, leaving the room.

A moment later, Max heard a voice through the door. "Well, doc'? How is he?" It was the RDF officer from the shelter.

"He'll be fine," Cokott responded, "he's just in shock."

"Is there anything I can do? I feel terrible, the kid lost his whole family on my watch."

"Well, Lieutenant, I think he could do with a friend right now. He's not strong enough now, but why don't you come back in a few hours and visit."

"You got it doc'."

Max was just finishing his meal when there was a knock on the door and Cokott entered.

"Max, you have a visitor," he said, "shall I let him in?"

"Sure," said Max, indifferently pushing aside the tray.

Cokott opened the door further and allowed the Lieutenant to enter. "This is Lieutenant Machlis. He tells me he was in your shelter."

Max nodded. "Thanks doc'."

Cokott nodded and left. There was an uncomfortable silence in the room as the two young men regarded one another.

"So," said Machlis, "feeling better?"

"As well as can be expected, I guess."

"Yeah, about that. Look, I just wanted to apologize for yesterday. I know that sounds shallow and all, but-"

"Forget it," said Max, looking away and trying not to burst out crying. "There was nothing anyone could do. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine; I should have stayed closer to her."

Machlis sat down on the end of Max's bed. "Look, Max. Can I call you Max?"

Max nodded.

"You want a piece of advice, don't beat yourself up over things you couldn't change. Sure, feel bad about them, but don't go looking for blame. You get enough of that from everyone else."

"Thanks for the advice, Lieutenant, but-"

"Please, call me Jeff."

"Jeff, but how can I not feel guilty? I was supposed to look after her."

Machlis sighed. "I can see this is going to take a while. Do you have anyone else in the city you can go to?"

Max shook his head, silently, looking down at his hands.

"I thought so. The doc' said I was the first person to ask after ya'. Listen, I'll have to clear it with my superiors, but why don't you stay with me for a while? I've got two person quarters all to myself."

"Don't you have a roomie?"

"No," said Machlis, somewhat sullenly, "he was in your parents' shelter when it got blasted by the XT's."

"Oh," said Max with a start, "I'm sorry."

"He knew the risks like the rest of us. You just worry about your own problems and I'll deal with mine. But, you know, maybe we can get it together, you know, together."

Max pondered for a moment, regarding the Lieutenant. "All right," he said, finally, "it's a deal."

"Great," said Machlis, "they're gonna let you out tomorrow morning. I'll come by then."

"Pluto!?"

Machlis shrugged at Max's sudden inquiry. "That's what they tell me," he said, "that something went wrong with the fold engines and that we're all the way out by Pluto. And it'll take us at least two years to make it back to Earth."

"Why's that?"

"The fold engines are gone."

"Gone?"

"Poof, just like that."

"What about the rest of the Macross people? Where will they go?"

"They're rebuilding the city down in the cargo hold. The thing was standing empty enough."

"It's that big?"

"Makes you feel insignificant, doesn't it? Here we are." Machlis motioned to a door and whipped out a key card. He slipped it through the scanner and the door obediently unlocked. "Welcome to my humble abode," he said, opening the door.

They both went inside. Machlis' quarters were somewhat stark, having only been moved into recently.

"I was going to get some more of my stuff from my old quarters, but well, you know, shit happens," Machlis explained, "we got a saying in the Force; 'Snafu.' "

"Situation normal, all fucked up?"

"How do you know that?"

"Memphis Belle," Max answered, "it's one of my favorite movies."

"I bet you're one of the type who'd be a pilot if it weren't for the glasses, am I right?"

"Planes have been a hobby of mine for years," Max said, blushing slightly, "but when I got the glasses, that kinda ruined my chances. So what's the inside of the Valkyrie look like?"

"Wouldn't know. I'm with the Civil Defense unit. Centaurs, not Valks. That's why I was in the shelter."

"Right," sighed Max, "the shelter."

All at once there was a knock at the door and Machlis sighed. "Dammit, not now." He made his way over to the door and opened it.

On the other side was Roy Fokker wearing a look of controlled concern.

"Hey, Jeff," said the Lieutenant Commander, "I was wondering if you've heard about a pilot in an orange circus plane, Rick Hunter? I haven't seen him since the fight yesterday."

"You mean that punk that found his way into a VT?"

"That's the one."

"No way!" Max exclaimed. "You're joking, right?"

"Who're you?" Roy asked, noticing Max for the first time.

"It's okay, Roy," Machlis cut in, "this is Max Sterling. He lost his whole family yesterday and has no one among the city people to turn to, so he's crashing with me for a while."

"You clear it with the Captain?"

"Yeah, I did. No prob."

"And the Commander?"

"She had a prob. Captain Gloval told her ta deal with it."

"That's the Captain for ya'. Look I gotta go. If you hear anything about Hunter, you tell me right away, all right?"

"You got it, Lieutenant Commander."

Two weeks later, Max found himself aimlessly wandering the streets of inboard Macross City. It was amazing how close to the original it was. Even more amazing that they had enough space to do it. But Max couldn't help but marvel at the uselessness of some of it. Everything had been rebuilt, even the restaurants. He was presently passing a little Chinese one called The White Dragon. Except for the owners, it was empty.

He rounded another corner and was greeted with a site of mayhem.

A large converter subunit had fallen from the ceiling level and crashed right through the street.

"Hey, there's somebody down there!" Someone exclaimed, peering into the hole with a flashlight. Others joined him momentarily.

"It looks like a coupla kids!"

Upon hearing the commotion, Mayor Tommy Luan made his way over and peered in.

"Why that looks like Minmei down there!"

A few moments later, a young Chinese girl was being lifted out of the hole in the street and helped up. After her came a young man dressed in an orange flight suit. Max made out a few words and phrases here and there and pieced together that the two of them had been stuck in the lower decks of the SDF-1 for almost two weeks. In fact, when congratulated by the mayor with a manly pat on the back, the boy fell to the ground, exhausted.

"Well, well, well," said a voice behind Max, "if it isn't four eyes. Gaping seems to be your best talent."

Max started, turned, and found himself face to face with the arrogant pilot from the exhibition grounds of two weeks prior. He gave the pilot a glare, then turned on his heel and walked away.

"What's the matter?" the pilot called after him. "Going home ta get your sister ta help ya'?"

Max stopped short and clenched his fists tightly.

"Is that it? You need the help of your little wuss sister? Eh, Maxie?"

Max whirled on the pilot. "No one calls me that, ya' got it! No one!"

"What're ya' gonna do? Tell mommy and daddy? Afraid you'll get those glasses broken? Or do you just wanna spare little Anna the sight of seeing her big brother hurt?"

Max launched himself at the pilot and followed through with an upper cut that sent the pilot to the ground. "Shut up!" He bellowed. "Don't you ever talk about my family like that, you goddam bastard!"

The pilot knuckled a small drop of blood from the corner of his mouth. "So, you wanna play it like that huh?" He dove for Max's legs and brought him to the ground. Max moved aside just in time to avoid a fist in the nose. He kicked his leg into the pilot's stomach and sent him to the side. Taking the chance to regain his feet, Max saw the pilot doing the same. He sidestepped a clumsy haymaker from the pilot and planted an elbow in his side. He suddenly found a head firmly planted in his chest, starting to cut off his air.

"Ewing!" a familiar voice called. "Back off, Ewing!" A pair of strong hands pulled the pilot off of Max and got in between them.

It was Roy Fokker.

"Ewing, what have I told you about fighting with the townies! Cool it, I mean now, or you're gonna have latrine duty until we get back ta Earth! You got it!"

The pilot, Ewing, straightened to attention. "Sir, yes sir!"

"Good!" Fokker snapped. "Now go get yourself cleaned up. Dismissed!"

Ewing crisply turned and marched away from the Lieutenant Commander. Fokker turned to Max. "You okay, kid?"

"Yeah," Max said, regaining breath.

"Sorry about him, he seems to go looking for trouble. Hey, you're the guy who's crashing with Machlis, aren't ya'?"

"Yes, sir," said Max, "we met the day after the SDF-1 got out here. You came looking for some guy, Rick Hunter?"

"Yeah, have you heard anything?"

Max simply pointed toward the mayhem occurring on the street behind Roy. The Skull Squad leader turned around and witnessed the destruction.

"Rick?" He exclaimed, then ran off to the crowd. "Rick! My God!"

Max watched as Fokker cantered away to his seemingly long-lost friend. As he watched their reunion, he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.

It was followed by an uncontrollable flood of memories; his failure, his fault, his loneliness. He couldn't stop them from coming back to him, no matter how hard he tried. He concentrated on a familiar song, anything else. But everything brought him back to his family and life he'd known before. Finally, unable to stand the sight any longer, he turned away and raced out of the street, leaving the happy reunion far behind him.

"Hey Max," Machlis called upon entering his quarters, "hello in here! Heard you had a dust up with some pilot!"

A pillow came flying at him and he barely had time to dodge it. The CD Lieutenant turned to his distraught friend and found him laying on his bunk, head buried in a pile of blankets, glasses having been discarded on the floor. Machlis sighed.
"Let me guess, you saw a couple ah buddies findin' each other again?"

Max pushed his head further into the blankets.

"Look, you can't keep lettin' that stuff get ta ya'. You'll flip your wig, kid."

"I'm not a kid!" Max snapped, suddenly. "Not anymore!"

"Huh?" Machlis puzzled. "Whadaya mean by that?"

"I mean I'm not a kid! I'm a goddam adult!" Max sat up and tried to gain some control. "My eighteenth birthday was yesterday. So why do I feel like a frightened five-year-old? Why can't I get control?"

"Know what I think? I think it's 'cause you never got to pass into that stage of your life with you family there to push ya' through."

"How'd you get so smart, anyway?"

"Eh, it's somethin' my pop once told me. Eighteen's the time when you're an adult, so the adults have to push ya' through that last day. You're going to have to do that on your own, Max. I know it's gotta be tough, but judging by what you did ta' Ewing, you're a fighter."

"You heard about that?"

"Yeah, the Skulls are happy ta see the guy cut down a notch, finally. He's not the play nice type, if ya know what I mean."

Max punched a fist into the pile of blankets. "He's a jerk! No, that's too weak a word. There isn't word for him! He's... he's a jerk!"

"Whoa, Maxie calm down!"

Max was suddenly on his feet facing Machlis, glasses in hand having been retrieved on the way up. "Don't call me that! I'm not Maxie any more and I never will be again! That part of me died with my family! You, of all people, don't have the right to call me that!"

Machlis stared at Max with a look that Max had never seen on the Lieutenant's face before. "That was low, Max," Machlis stated, "even for a person who's as mixed up as you are right now, that was low."

"You don't know how I feel, so just spare the fraternal advice," said Max plopping his glasses on his face and turning away from Machlis.

"Don't I? Think, Max. Is this who you are? Is this who you wanna be? Do you wanna lash out at everyone and everything just because you think they don't know how you feel? I got news for you, pally, there are other people aboard this ship in just as much pain as you are. So get over it and live your life."

Max hit the wall with his fist and made his way over to the door.

"Where're you going?" Machlis asked.

"To live what remains of my life!" Max snapped just before slamming the door after himself.

"It's about time," Machlis mumbled, a slight smile cracking across his face.

Saturn. Three months' travel had only gotten them to Saturn. And at this time of the year, Earth was on the opposite side of the Sun from it.

Needless to say, they still had some time left on their journey.

Despite the propriety of its citizens, Macross City was a veritable rumor mill. Gossip was flying about this scheme by the mayor or that incident in a lingerie store and many, many others.

But Max never cared much for rumors. The whole he-said-she-said routine bored him, quite frankly. So while a table in the White Dragon was laughing uproariously with some amusing anecdote, Max simply ignored it and sat at his own table near the wall, munching on a plate of moo-shu.

The laughter dissolved, however, as the sirens began to blare. Various pilots sprang from their seats and zipped out of the building. Max observed a fair number of them managing to pile into one small taxi.

RDF clown car tactics, he couldn't help but think to himself as the car drove off.

"All civilians to the shelters," Commander Hayes' voice came over the PA, "repeat, all civilians to the shelters."

The ship began to rumble somewhat with the all too familiar shake of the SDF-1's modular transformation. The remaining White Dragon patrons hurried themselves out the door and down the street to the nearest shelter. The ship rocked with a large blast. Max looked up and out the main hold's skylight and saw a rather large warship within range of the SDF-1. He hurried himself into the shelter without another moment's hesitation along with everyone else around him and moved into a corner he claimed as his own for the time being.

Little did anyone there know that one of the most creative offensive maneuvers was being planned at that very moment.

The Deadalus, one of the aircraft carriers that had gotten folded out to Plutospace and had subsequently been grafted onto the ship, would moments later plunge into one of the attacking Zentraedi warships like a fist and blow it apart from the inside out. Countless mecha were allotted to the task and many would be lost. But the battle ultimately belonged to the SDF-1. It would later be hailed as one of the most ingenious maneuvers of the First Robotech War.
And Max Sterling was stuck inside a shelter feeling nothing but the ship's shudders.

"I've never heard the ship do that before," someone commented.

"Suppose it has something to do with that new pinpoint shielding?" another hypothesized.

The ship gave another tremendous shudder, shaking the little tiny box of a room they were all crowded into. There were a number of creaks and groans and suddenly the world went black.

The next Max knew, he was slowly coming to in that all too familiar, too white room with a screaming headache.

Back in the infirmary. Most likely after having been knocked out by a falling something-or-other, by the feel of it.

"Well, now," the all too familiar voice of Dr. Cokott said as he entered, "welcome back again, Mr. Sterling. Once more in here and you'll be a regular." He picked up the clipboard and wrote a few notes. "Nasty bump on the head you got there. How do you feel?"

"Do ya' hafta yell?"

"That bad, hmm? I'll prescribe a pain killer for you for the next few days. But there doesn't seem to be any concussion or anything, so there's no reason to keep you around here any longer. You can sign out whenever you're ready."

Max nodded. Cokott was all business today, like he was in a hurry. That's not to say his bedside manner was bad, he just seemed rushed. Max wondered if it had something to do with the attack.

He shrugged it off for the time being. Spotting his clothes folded up on a nearby chair, he slowly got up and changed out of the annoying hospital gown he'd found himself wearing. Those things were always designed to provide maximum, unwanted "air conditioning" so the patient wouldn't leave. It was simply too damn cold!

He was on his way out of the room when he passed a mirror and spotted the mess his hair had become. His grandfather was right. A haircut was needed. Max's hair was almost to his shoulders. And worse, his roots were beginning to show; he needed to find some blue hair dye.

Ah, screw the haircut. He looked dumb in a crew cut anyway.

Max checked out of the infirmary, picking up the pain-killers on the way.

On his way back to Jeff's, he passed through Macross City. The place was in a considerable state of disarray. He came across a number of couples and families doing the best they could to clean up their belongings and make semblance of their lives again.
Abruptly, he ran into someone. Startled, he turned to find a girl about his age staring at him about a foot away. Her green eyes looked into his for a moment, and Max realized she had been crying. As Max was beginning to fumble through an apology, she turned, flashing a whip of red hair in his face, and ran off down the street.

He was about to follow to see if there was anything he could do. He somehow felt strangely linked to the girl in a way he couldn't quite describe. He wondered if they had something in common.

His thoughts were interrupted however, by the passing of a so-called "death bed" carrying a totaled mecha to the recycling plants aboard the SDF-1.

It was a Centaur.

Jeff piloted a Centaur.

Max's gut tightened as he watched the thing retreat away into the other areas of the ship to be recycled. After a moment of looking after it, he broke into a run toward Jeff's quarters.

He skidded around the corner and into Jeff's quarters. Sitting on the couch, blond head hung, seemingly in thought, was Roy Fokker. He was still in his flight suit, having just come in from the battle. He looked up at Max, a look in his eyes that said he wished he didn't have to say what was coming next.

"No," Max breathed as Fokker stood, "no, not Jeff."

Roy sighed. "I'm sorry," he said, "Lieutenant Machlis was killed while fighting off enemy forces that were attempting to enter the ship. His Centaur was totaled and..." Roy trailed off and looked at Max who was standing in the doorway as though he were a statue. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

Fokker pushed his way past Max and out into the hallway. He was starting to walk away slowly when Max said "Lieutenant Commander Fokker."

The leader of Skull Squadron turned around to face Max.

"Where do I sign up for the RDF?"

Roy stared at Max for an indeterminate amount of time. Satisfied that Max was lucid, he nodded. "Meet me at the White Dragon in a half an hour."

Chapter Text

"Would I ever go back to those good old days? No, not even to see my friends that aren't around any more. You may think that sounds heartless, (laughs) but trust me, they'd understand. They went through it too, after all! They'd just commit me!"

- Admiral Rick Hunter, as quoted in Lapstien's Interviews.

The simulated Zentraedi battlepod jinked and dodged his fire. Max's eyes fluttered back and forth between it and the tactical display on the cockpit dash and in a moment had it within his sights. He fired and blew it to a simulated Hell.

Max was amazed at the simulation. It was surprisingly... easy.

Two more came at him at once, firing. He dodged their blasts and caught one in cross fire with the other. Boom went the first, followed shortly by the other.

"Would'ja lookit that!" someone exclaimed as the simulation ended. "That's some score!" Max climbed out of the simulated cockpit and regarded the person giving him the compliment. "Just wait till the real thing, though," he said, "that was just a simulation, after all." The person watching him was a rather big fellow with somewhat unruly hair that looked a little like flames caught in a freeze frame. He had a somewhat arrogant air about him and a slightly dumb look in his eyes. "What's yer name?"

"Max," he answered, "Max Sterling."

"Nice ta know ya', Max. Ben Dixon's my name. Hey don't take this the wrong way, but you don't really look the type who'd pilot a Valk, ya' know?"

"I've heard that," Max responded, "but I guess you never know."

"Dixon, Benjamin!" a voice called from one of the other simulators, the ones set up for recruit on recruit battles.

"That's me," said Ben, "gotta go. I'll catch ya' later, Max." Max watched as Ben bounced away and reported in to the Lieutenant in charge of the simulators, Kochanski.

"Allan, Ariana!" the Lieutenant called.

The person who emerged from the crowd caught Max's attention. It was the same girl he'd run into, quite literally, just before he'd heard about Jeff. She was more official looking now, in a green-trimmed uniform and not holding back tears for an unknown reason.

A number of catcalls arose from the crowd as she stepped forward and Max realized he wasn't the only person whose eye she'd caught. Allan pointedly ignored the rood noises, went up to Ben, and shook his hand before they both sat down in the simulators for their run.

"Good form, Cadet Allan," stated Kochanski, "and as for the rest of you, that's enough!" The catcalls and rude noises ceased as the Lieutenant glared at the rest of the cadets. "Disrespect for fellow squad members has no place in the RDF. Anyone with enough guts to go out there and get shot at is no one to mess with. You got me?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" the cadets all responded, straightening to attention.

"Good. Now listen up. So far you've all flown the regular simulators against a computer simulation. But what you have to understand is that computers don't think like a living, breathing life form. Therefore the next step in your training is to simulate combat against one another. As the battle progresses, you learn your opponent's strategy, make and use your own, and try not to get scragged. Dixon and Allan are up first. The next in line will take on the victor." He nodded to Ben and Ariana. "Take your places, Cadets."

Dixon and Allan both climbed into the simulated cockpits and settled in. As they both donned the thinking cap helmets, two holographic mecha appeared in the space between the simulators that the rest of the crowd could watch.

"Simulation begins now," stated Kochanski.

The two VT holograms took off into flight and began to jink and dodge each others' fire. The green one, which had started on Allan's side, soon found its way to the six o'clock position of Dixon's yellow one and fired off a perfect shot which caught the hologram dead on. The little yellow Veritech burst apart as the green one flew through the debris, came around, and stopped.

"Dixon! What's the matter with you!" the Lieutenant bellowed. "That was the oldest trick in the book! You should have been able to dodge that no problem!"

"I-I'm sorry, sir," Ben stammered, aghast, "I didn't see it coming."

"That's obvious! Get out!" Kochanski glanced at his list as Ben climbed out of the cockpit and rejoined the group of cadets. "Sterling, Maximilian. You're next."

Max took a breath and stepped out of the crowd.

"Go get 'er, four eyes!" someone called.

"Mr. Drake, what did I just tell you about disrespect!" Kochanski bellowed. Max went up to the simulators and found that Allan had exited the cockpit and was extending her hand to him. He took it and gave it a firm shake. "Let's see what your opinion of him's gonna be when you're in the middle of a battle and your life depends on teamwork with him!" Ariana made eye contact with Max, glanced Drake's way with her eyes, and then crossed them. Max allowed himself a small, lop-sided smile and she winked in response. "You understand, Drake!" the Lieutenant finished.

"Sir, yes sir!" Drake responded.

Kochanski left Drake to ponder his words and returned to Max and Ariana. "Take your places, Cadets," he ordered. They both climbed inside and situated again. This time, in place of Ben's yellow VT hologram, a blue one appeared opposite Ariana's green.
"Simulation begins now."

Again, the two Veritech holograms took flight. Ariana took the first shot which Max dodged effortlessly, going into a parabolic climb as the green VT kept going straight. He dropped back in behind her and took a shot while he had her haloed in the target reticle. She jinked and the simulated missile missed. She took the VT into a downward loop, curling in a course beneath Max's VT. He banked to the left and imaged a conversion to Battleoid mode through the thinking cap. He took the VT's rifle/cannon in the 'bot's metal hand and fired off a shot at Ariana's transforming mecha. She almost dodged it, but it tore into the body of her Battleoid nonetheless, blowing it to smithereens.

"Good work, Sterling," said Kochanski as the simulation stopped and Max and Ariana both climbed out, "and you weren't too shabby either Allan, but you brought up a good point." He turned and addressed the whole group. "When you're transforming from one mode to another, get out of the line of fire. There is a certain amount of time where a VT is vulnerable during transformations. You should not attempt to maintain target lock, just get out of the way."

As Ariana took her place back among the group, the Lieutenant consulted his list and called the next name.

The simulation session ended after three more matches. Max, undefeated, was a participant in all of them. The rest of the group of cadets had had him figured for a soon-to-be wash-out and had payed little interest in him until that moment. In the simulator, Max had taken on cadets twice his size, half again as tall, and at least four times as boisterous and sailed through their simulated fire like they were nothing at all.

A fluke, he told himself, either I got lucky, or they all sucked. Or both.

Carrying his tray of lunch, Max searched the crowded cafeteria for a place to sit and eat. The first few tables were taken up by the more outgoing cadets who had already established themselves as what amounted to upperclassmen in the RDF's accelerated flight school program. The truth was that they were all in the exact same classes and at the same stage in training all around. But some, unwilling to do away with the traditional ranks in a school setting, set themselves up as the ones who issued orders to the rest of the cadets.

Max passed those tables consciously and continued to the back of the cafeteria. He never really had cared for large groups of people, especially the loud ones. Names were something he was never very good at. He found that most of the tables were filled with ravenously eating hordes of cadets and officer instructors.

But there seemed to be one small area back in the corner that had space. He moved toward it and found at its center Ariana Allan, silently eating lunch alone.

Perhaps she was someone he could relate to. Quiet, rather small, and also singled out, Allan seemed like a kindred spirit. Max decided to give it a go.

"Is anyone sitting here?" he asked, approaching.

"Are you daft?" she said in a Liverpool accent around a mouthful. "Have you suddenly gone blind since this morning, Sterling? Do you think any of them would want to be seen around a lass in a uniform?"

"Uh... Is that a yes or a no?"

Ariana swallowed, intrigued. "You are daft. Either sit or not, I don't care."

Max set his tray on the table and took a seat across from Ariana. "Your name's Allan, right?" he asked.

She swallowed again. "What, is there a chance it changed in the past half-hour?"

"I... guess not. So, where're you from?"

"All right, spill it. Why the sudden interest?"

"I have to have a motive? That's just paranoid."

"We all have motives," she said evenly, "even if we don't realize it. So, what's yours, Sterling?"

"Geeze! I'm only trying to be friendly! And you can call me Max, okay."

Ariana looked him over, meeting his gaze for the first time. "Chums, huh? What a pair! A tom-boy lass and a gimboyd with glasses both trying to be fighter pilots. What's in it for me?"

Max was puzzled for a moment, trying to find a response. "Um, mutual support?" he finally stammered, smiling weakly.

She arched an eyebrow at him.

"You lost someone recently, didn't you," said Max. Ariana sent a glare his way and abruptly rose from the table. "Hey wait!" Max called after her, grabbing his own tray off the table. Ariana dumped what was left on her tray in the garbage can and continued out the door. Deciding that lunch wasn't all that important after all, Max did likewise.

"Why are you following me?" Allan asked gruffly, turning on her heel.

"I just... I was... Well, what did I say?"

"If you don't know, you're more daft that I first suspected." She spun around and continued on.

"Look whatever it was, I'm sorry," said Max, following a few steps behind.

"Go away," she snapped with finality.

Max stopped in his tracks, genuinely distressed. "Fine then!" he shot back. "Be that way! We'll both go it alone!" He stalked over to a small alley, turned the corner into it, and leaned against the wall, frustrated and feeling even more alone than before. He closed his eyes tight, trying to keep his forming tears from growing.

"Ya' damn smeghead," Ariana's voice came from the alley's end. Her tone had changed, though; it was softer, almost apologetic. "Why'd ya' have ta say that?" Max heard footsteps coming toward him.

"Forget it," said Max, "forget I said anything."

"Oh, come on," said Ariana, "suddenly the roles are switched. What was that all about?"

"You," said Max, turning around and facing her.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you. Lighten up, will ya'! Let someone into your life! I got news for you, lady, there are other people aboard this ship in just as much pain as you are. So get over it and live-"

Max stopped short and started. Was that really him talking? Or had Jeffery Machlis suddenly inhabited his mouth for a moment?

Maybe he had.

"Live what?" Ariana inquired.

"Your...life."

A silent and tense moment seemed to pass between them.

"Well, you're certainly not like the others," Ariana finally said, "it seems you have a soul; definitely one up on the rest of them." Another moment of silence. "Allo! Sterling! Jesus, you look like you've seen a ghost!"

"I think I did."

"Oh don't tell me you're one of the type that believes in spirits and hauntings, now! Because, that's just points against you, right there."

"No, not in hauntings. But don't you believe in souls? I mean, what about after... you know?"

"I believe what I can see, touch, hear, and feel. Everything else is open to debate. For instance, did you know that you can put any Emily Dickenson poem to the tune of the Yellow Rose of Texas?"

Max was confused. What did that have to do with anything? "Huh?"

"No, really," she said, and struck a pose. "Because I could not stop for death, he kindly stopped for me. The carriage held for just ourselves and immortality," she belted.

"My candle burns at both ends, it will not last the night," Max crooned, tentatively. He paused, thinking it over. "Geeze, you're right!" he exclaimed.

"That's not Emily Dickenson," stated Ariana.

"It's not? Who is it?"

Allan acquired a perturbed look. "I can't remember, but it's not her, I can sure tell ya' that. Strange, that that would fit also."

Max began to laugh. It was small at first, and it seemed almost like an unfamiliar feeling. But soon, he was laughing like he'd never laughed before.

"What's with you now?" Ariana asked.

"I'm... laughing. I haven't had a good laugh in a long time."

Ariana joined him. A casual passerby glanced down the alley and made a face that said he thought they were both crazy.

Finally, they both settled.

"You're all right, Sterling. It's a deal; chums."

"Then, call me Max, huh?"

"Only if you call me Ari. But call me Ar and you get hit."

"You wanna what?"

Ben handed Max a roll of toilet paper he had pilfered from the bathroom. "Teepee the Lieutenant's quarters," he responded, "the guy seriously needs to lighten up."

"He's only doing that so we don't get killed, ya' know," stated Max.

"Oh, c'mon, where's your sense of fun?"

"On a date with my actual interests. My sense of self-preservation is filling in."

"Fine," said Ben, snatching the roll of toilet paper out of Max's hand, "you sit around on your tail while I go pull off the greatest prank in SDF-1 history. But don't come crying ta me when everyone's talking about it tomorrow."

"Hey, FYI. Ari and I have a copilot solo tomorrow," said Max, "gotta rest up."

"Yeah," said Ben, somewhat condescendingly, "and gotta shower, put on a little after-shave..."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't act all innocent. The whole class is talkin' about it; you and that Allan girl, always hangin' around each other and no one else. You can't tell me there isn't anything between you two."

"There's not! We're just friends."

"Sure, and I'm Billy Mitchell."

"You are not!" Max exclaimed, snatching one of Ben's rolls of TP. "And just to show you and everyone else I have other things on my mind, I'll come with you."

Ben licked his finger and stabbed the air with it, making a hissing noise. Max rolled his eyes and led the way, Ben snickering behind him.

"Go ahead, open it," said Ben when they reached the target of their prank, the door to Kochanski's quarters.

"I'm not gonna do it, you open it," Max responded.

Ben went over to a nearby tree and leaned against it. "What're you, scared or somethin'? Go for it. No one's awake for a block and the Lieutenant is out with his girl."

"And just why do I suddenly get the honor?" Max asked, approaching Ben.

Suddenly, there was a rustle of leaves from the tree overhead and a streak of red descended into view, a throaty noise accompanying it. Max and Ben both jumped half way to the Deadalus and gave short cries of fright.

"My, my," said Ari, still hanging upside down by her knees from a branch, her pony tail dangling in her face, "it seems I've made a mistake. I was looking for two fearless RDF cadets, but all I found are two kittens with toilet paper." She poked Ben in the stomach. "All be it a big one."

"Hey! What's your problem, lady!" Ben exclaimed as Ari curled upward and freed her legs from the tree, jumping down.

"Do you really have to ask?" she asked, sarcastically. "Max, is he for real?"

"Oh, yeah," said Max, dourly.

"Just whadaya think you're doin' here?" Ben demanded. "We're pullin' off a prank. We don't need you around in the way."

Ariana reached around behind her back and produced a roll of toilet paper. She showed it to Ben, winking.

"Max? What I said before?" Ben said. "I take it back, she's not your type."

"Just why not?" Ari asked, gloming onto Max's arm, jokingly. Max turned slightly pale and seemed to panic a bit. "Oh, lighten up, Old Blue, I'm only joking. I was going to join you two on your little quest but I thought better of it when I spotted Kochanski and his lass a few blocks away. I decided to warn you instead."

"Huh?!" Ben and Max exclaimed in unison.

"Time ta book it," stated Ben.

"I'm outie!" Max agreed.

"You're welcome," Ariana shouted to their retreating backs as she began to follow.

"Look out, John Carter!" Ari exclaimed throwing the Veritech into a barrel roll as it sailed through the thin atmosphere of Mars.

"Would you knock it off," Max implored from the back seat.

"I'm just having a little fun," said Ari, "you're so serious."

"This isn't supposed to be fun," stated Max, "it's a training flight. Now would you let me have it?"

"Oh all right," conceded Ariana, flipping a few switches in the cockpit, "Mother Hen Six, this is Wet Ears One, Green Lantern. I'm turning control over to Blue Devil."

"Roger that, Green Lantern," Kochanski's voice came over the tac net, "Mother Hen Six to Blue Devil. I want to you take a strafing run, Sterling. Your target is the rock formation at bearing five-seven-oh-niner."

"Copy, Mother Hen Six," said Max, bringing the fighter around to come straight at the formation. He haloed the rocks in his sights and blew it off the face of Mars effortlessly. The Lieutenant proceeded to order Max to take the Veritech through its paces; Guardian mode, Battleoid, moving targets, and more. Finally, he was ordered to land on the planet's surface in Battleoid and Mother Hen Six, the Lieutenant's Veritech, did likewise.

"Mother Hen Six to Wet Ears One. Good job, both of you. I think you both have... stand by, Wet Ears One."

Max and Ari exchanged puzzled looks as the training freq went silent for a moment.

"Wet Ears One, this is Mother Hen Six. Return to base, repeat, return to base. SDF-1 is reading incoming, so make it snappy."

"Roger that, Mother Hen Six," said Ari, snapping the fighter over to her controls, taking off and imaging over to Fighter mode. The Veritech sped off over the Martian landscape with Mother Hen Six just after it.

Without warning, a Zentraedi battlepod rose out of nowhere and hovered in their path, taking aim. Ari let out a small yelp and banked for all the fighter was worth. The pod adjusted its aim and fired at the Veritech's turning underbelly. Mother Hen Six fired a shot at the pod just a moment too late and the pod's shot landed squarely in Wet Ears One's dorsal side. The pod blew apart as the Veritech began to dive for the ground.

"Ari, pull up!" Max shouted.

"I'm trying!" Ariana responded in kind, yanking the stick for their lives.

The fighter smashed into the ground, leveling off at the last second and skidding to a halt along the ground. Inertia threw Max this way and that until he came to a stop and was pulled back into the seat by his harness. He let out a breath, thankful to be in one piece.

"We made it," he said, but got no response from his copilot. "Ari?" He unstrapped from his seat and reached into the front seat to check on Ariana. Her head lolled forward and Max pulled her back to where he could see her, infinitely grateful to hear a small moan. But, inside her helmet, Ariana had a small trickle of blood streaking down the side of her face. "Computer," said Max, "status of pilot Green Lantern."

"Pilot Green Lantern is unconscious," the computer responded, "minor concussion to right side of the head. Recommend immediate treatment. Pulse normal. Blood pressure normal. Breathing normal. Warning; pilot Blue Devil has sustained damage to oxygen supply system. Estimate ten minutes of breathable air remaining."

"Mother Hen Six to Wet Ears One. Come in. What is your status?"

"Blue Devil to Mother Hen Six," Max responded, mindful of every breath, "Ariana's unconscious, sir. All guidance systems are dead and I've only got ten minutes of air left."

"Do you have control?"

"No, Ari had control when we went down," Max responded reaching for Ari's controls, desperately, "and I can't reach to change it over."

"Keep trying," said Kochanski landing his Battleoid next to the downed VT, "if you can't get control, you're both toast. There's a few more aliens heading straight for us."

Max reached for the controls again, but was three inches short. He tried reaching around Ariana several different ways, but to no avail.

Max leaned back in his own seat, beginning to feel a little light headed from his growing lack of oxygen. A thought suddenly occurred to him and he reached for Ariana's arm. He carefully curled the fingers of her right hand and gripped her wrist. He reached forward with her arm and hooked her hand on the control that switched pilots and pulled. His own controls came to life and he carefully replaced Ari's arm at her side.

"Blue Devil to Mother Hen Six," said Max, strapping back into his own seat, "I have control, Lieutenant."

"Good. Can you switch to Guardian?"

"I think so."

"Do it. We need to get you two back to the ship."

Max pulled down on the G-lever and imaged over to Guardian. The Veritech obediently switched over and got to its feet.

"Mother Hen Six to Blue Devil. How long did you say your air would last?"

"Ten minutes, sir. That was three minutes ago."

"Damn. It'll take us that long to get back to the ship, you're three minutes short. Can you hold out using emergency breathing techniques?"

"I'll try, sir."

"Don't try, Sterling. Do. You are not to pass out and that's a direct order."

"Yes, sir."

The two Veritechs sped across the landscape once more, heading for the grounded SDF-1. Both Max and Kochanski patched into the regular tac net and it soon became clear that the ship was stuck and under heavy attack. Kochanski informed control of their situation and Claudia Grant promised to have Roy Fokker and Skull Squad provide as much cover as possible, but couldn't guarantee anything. Max meanwhile was running out of breath and becoming more and more light-headed by the moment.

Needless to say, it was going to be one interesting landing.

"Warning," the computer of Wet Ears One chimed, "vital signs of pilot Blue Devil dropping. Breathing labored. Pulse above normal. Level of oxygen supply suggests unconsciousness is imminent."

"Never mind that," Max snapped at the computer, "status of pilot Green Lantern."

"Pilot Green Lantern remains unconscious due to minor concussion to right side of the head. Pulse normal. Blood pressure normal. Breathing normal."

Max felt the edges of darkness beginning to seep in on his vision and blinked it back, all the while hearing the rush of his own breath in his ears.

He vaguely heard something over the tac net about Commander Hayes inside Mars Base Sara. He chose to disregard it for the moment and regained control of his breath.

His lungs were burning with lack of oxygen and he had to breathe in a lot of air to get any. It did not help that his heart was pounding furiously with the fear that Ariana would never wake up or even make it back to the ship should he pass out. Bottom line, she was counting on him.

He suddenly noticed that Kochanski's Veritech was firing its gun/cannon at several Zentraedi battlepods.

"Sterling! Stay with me!" he shouted. "I need some help here. We're almost back to the Promie. I just need a little more cover fire."

Without responding over the tac net, Max searched the visible part of the sky through his blurred vision and spotted a target. He haloed it in his mind and fired off a shot which landed dead on.

"Hey, I thought your guidance was out," said the Lieutenant.

"Yeah," Max responded, fuzzily.

"SDF-1 control to Mother Hen Six and Wet Ears One," Lieutenant Commander Grant's voice come over the tac net, "you are within range to begin landing procedures. The deck is clear, you may proceed."

"Thanks SDF-1 control," said Kochanski, "okay Sterling, go for it. And you better make it fast."

"Copy," Max breathed, shaking his head to clear it slightly. He imaged over to fighter mode and landed somewhat roughly. He taxied on to the elevator that took the Veritech down to the pressurized hanger bay and promptly spotted a group of technicians heading his way.

He reached for the control that popped the canopy and pulled it.

He was reaching for the control at the side of his flight helmet that opened the faceplate when the world went black.

Max came to again a few moments later, aware that he was laying on his back and that something was covering his mouth and nose.

"Just take it easy," someone said next to him as he tried to lever himself into a sitting position, "breathe normally and try not to move too much."

He became more and more lucid with every breath and assumed that the mask covering the lower part of his face was delivering oxygen to his respiratory system. Gathering his bearings, he turned to regard Wet Ears One. The EMT's were presently lifting the still unconscious Ariana out of the VT's cockpit. Despite the protests of the EMT next to him, he got up on shaky legs and tottered over to the others. They were removing Ari's flight helmet now, revealing the extent of the blow to her head. The right side of her head was red with blood which trickled down the side of her face.

"What do you think you're doing, Sterling?" Kochanski snapped, coming up behind him. "Get back on that oxygen! I mean now!"

Max's worries were suddenly subject to the override of the unquestionable orders of the Lieutenant. He scurried back over to the EMT he had woken up beside who pushed the mask back to his face. Kochanski followed him.

"Allan'll be fine," said the Lieutenant, "and nothing you can do right now will affect the outcome of her care unless you get in the way of the EMT's and let her get worse. So, just stay out of the way for now." Max nodded meekly. "Don't worry. I'll let you know where she's at and you can check on her later. Rest up, Cadet."

"Yessir," Max responded through the oxygen mask.

Max watched as Ariana's eyes fluttered open slowly and she began to look about the recovery room. "Hey," he said, directing a weak smile her way.

"What're ya' smiling for ya' smeghead?" she responded. "I have one fekkin' headache. What happened?"

"You got a concussion in our artful landing out there," Max stated, "you've been out for about twelve hours."

"Where are we?"

"Back on the SDF-1 in the hospital. You should be all right."

Kochanski entered suddenly and inquired as to Ari's well being.

"Better, it seems, sir," she responded.

"Good," the Lieutenant said, straightening up. "Then I wanna know what the Hell happened in that Veritech! What kinda evasive maneuver was that Allan!"

"Sir, I don't know what happened," Ari sputtered, "I guess I just-"

"Panicked? Is that it?"

"Lieutenant," Max began.

"Stay out of this one, Sterling. If it weren't for you, you'd both be permanent residents of the Martian landscape, you got it Allan?"

"But I don't-"

"I don't want to hear it, Cadet. If you're gonna be a fighter pilot-"

"Sir, it was my fault!" Max shouted, breaking in on Kochanski's tirade. The Lieutenant turned to him, eyes narrowed, awaiting an explanation. "When we first received word that the aliens were attacking, I panicked and shifted the controls over to Ari- I mean, to Cadet Allan. She wasn't prepared for it and was still recovering when the ostrich ambushed us."

Kochanski looked from one cadet to the other. "'S'at so? What the Hell were you thinking?"

"I... wasn't, sir," Max responded, meekly.

"That's painfully obvious, Cadet." The Lieutenant turned away from both of them. "Despite this little fiasco, you both performed well in simulations and real flight exercises. It crossed my mind to flunk you both, but you're both good, despite first combat problems. So you'll both be graduating with the rest of the class in two weeks. But both of you are going to have to perform better than that in the middle of battle to last more than ten seconds out there. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yessir," Max and Ari responded in unison.

"Good," said Kochanski, making his way to the door. "By the way," he added with a slightly exasperated tone, "don't ever fly in the same VT again. You both worry about each other too much." With that, he departed.

"Max," Ari began once the Lieutenant was out of earshot.

"Imagine," said Max, "chewing someone out just after they regained consciousness. What a prick."

"Max."

"I mean, he could have waited a couple of hours at least."

"Max!" Ariana clapped a hand over Max's mouth. "Why?"

"Why could he have waited? I think that's pretty obvious, don't you?"

"Max, why did you take the blame? You didn't switch the controls over, I did. And I should have left them; you're a better pilot than I am. I was the one who should have taken the blame for that. Why did you?"

Max was puzzled for a moment; why had he?

"Because," Max finally responded, turning away from her in hopes of hiding his puzzled look, "he shouldn't have started chewing you out just after waking up from a concussion. I just did what anyone would have done. So, just forget about it, okay?"

Max began to exit. "Ya' fekkin' smeghead!" Ari yelled after him. "Now I owe ya' one!"

Max's puzzlement followed him to Macross City park. He kept replaying the previous scene in his mind over and over.

Why had he taken the blame? Sure, he had hated to see Ariana being chewed out just after waking up, that much was true. But it was her in particular he hated to see in that situation. He doubted if he would have done that for Ben or anyone else. Why was that?

What was it about Ariana Allan?

More importantly, when had she become so important in his life? Why couldn't he imagine his world without her, now?

Max found himself next to the park's Peace Fountain. He sat down on the ledge, dangling a hand into the water and studying the distortions of his reflection.

Was he really the person who was staring back at him? He looked so confused, at a loss for what to do next. Indeed, as to what he was actually feeling.

Was that it?

Nah! That couldn't have been it. They both denied it so vociferously. How could it be true? It was simply impossible.

The White Dragon had been commandeered.

More specifically, it had been rented for the night by the RDF for a morale-booster for all the graduating cadets who seemed to have a case of graduation blues. The restaurant was decked out in crepe paper decorations and custom lighting. A half-decent disk jockey was commanding a stereo system that had been set up near a space cleared of tables which was intended as a dance floor. Crowds of newly graduated RDFer's crowded into the ambiance and were dancing, laughing, and goofing off with sweethearts they had dragged along or who had insisted on being taken. The RDF men were dressed in tuxedos, leading their elaborately dressed dates by the arm.

Max and Ben, both looking distinguished in tuxes, entered and surveyed their surroundings.

"Nope," said Max, turning around and beginning to head back out. He was caught by Ben's large hand.

"Aw, c'mon, Max," Ben pleaded, "what's the problem?"

"It's too much like senior prom."

"And?"

"I was dateless for senior prom, too. It wasn't fun."

"Oh get over it," Ben ordered, pulling Max back inside, "you and I can surely pick up a date around here, right?" Max resigned himself to Ben's lead and the two of them were soon standing next to the punch bowl. "Watch and learn, my friend," said Ben as a young woman in a red dress came over toward them. "Good evening, beautiful," said Ben to her, "what's an angel of the heavens doing in this dump? Care to take a dance on cloud nine?"

"Creep," the young woman directed at him just before turning around and leaving.

"I'm watching, but I'm not learning," said Max.

"Here, have some punch and shut up," said Ben, pushing a glass into Max's hand and rushing after the young woman.

Max regarded the glass, perturbed, and sighed. He set it on the table and moved back toward the wall. He leaned against it wondering how Ben had talked him into coming to the formal in the first place.

Just then, there were a number of catcalls out of most of the newly commissioned corporals. Max looked around the room and followed their gaze back to the door where he spotted Ariana entering and glaring at the lot of them.

Max found her positively enchanting; she was wearing a dark green, sleeveless evening gown of crushed velvet that offset the color of her hair just right. Her red trusses hung lose behind her shoulders, kept out of her face by a black headband.  Her glare dissolved and she looked slightly hurt. She seemed about to leave again, but Max rushed over and extended his hand, bowing at the waist debonairly.

"Good evening madam," he said.

Ari did something Max had never heard her do; she giggled. "My aren't you the charmer," she responded, placing a hand in Max's outstretched one.

Max kissed it in a formal way. "Care for an escort?"

"Delighted, prince charming," she responded.

A few more cat calls erupted as they moved through the crowd, arm-in-arm. They approached an empty table and Max pulled a chair out for her.

"I knew I shouldn't have worn this," said Ari, motioning to her dress.

"What're you talking about?" Max asked. "You look terrific."

"I don't know if it's what they all expected," she said, "they're all used to seeing me play the tom-boy."

"So what," stated Max, "I think you look incredible."

She smiled wanly at him, resting her chin on her clasped hands. "Thanks, Old Blue. I needed that. What you think matters to me a lot, you know."

Max smiled back and they both gazed at each other for a few moments.

"Hey, um," Max fumbled, blushing slightly, "you, ah, wanna dance?" He was surprised to hear himself asking her that. He had never danced with a woman before in his life and wasn't even sure he knew how. Next thing he knew she was responding in the affirmative and they were on the dance floor, swaying effortlessly to the slow music.

They were both aware they were drawing looks from a number of people around the room, but could not have cared less. A small space began to clear around them as couples gaped at the two people who had previously denied any involvement. And here they were, looking like the most natural couple on the floor.

Ariana spun sprightly on her feet, holding Max's hand over her head and allowing the skirt of her dress and her hair to splay out around her. They finished the movement in the traditional slow dance pose as the music ended.

"Let's hear it for Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire, kids!" the DJ announced, breaking the two of them out of the haze of the moment.

"Huh?" they both exclaimed, looking to one another. Their eyes met for a moment and they both found puzzlement in the other. Confused, they pushed away from one another.

The DJ continued the night and began another song, a fast one. But no one on or around the dance floor moved for several seconds.

"No couple, eh?" The ever tactful Corporal Drake shouted to them from his place near the wall.

Ariana finally took her confused eyes off of Max and looked about, quite obviously feeling like a spectacle. She let out a small moan, putting her hands to her face and bolted for the door.

"What'd ya' do, Max?" Ben asked, coming up to him. "Step on her foot?"

Max, seeming not to notice Ben at all, looked to the floor and let out an exasperated moan of his own. "Oh! Prom my butt!" he exclaimed, rushing out the door after Ari.

He finally caught up with her in the RDF cafeteria. The place was dark and quiet and just right for a brooding soul who wanted to be left alone.

"Ari," said Max, sitting beside her at one of the tables, "I think we need ta talk."

"What's there to talk about, Max?" she responded, not looking at him. "We're friends. That's all; just two people who enjoy each others' company."

"Yeah," Max agreed, uncomfortably, "just friends." A few moments of silence passed between them. "So, where're you off to in the morning?"

"I pulled duty in Cerulean Team, under a Lieutenant Fischer. You?"

"Vermillion, under some guy named Hunter."

"Hunter?"

"What about him?"

"Haven't you heard? He's the one who stumbled into a VT back on Macross Island and fumbled around in it doing more damage than the aliens. Fokker had ta save his arse!"

Max sighed. "Lucky me."

Chapter Text

"When I first met Rick [Hunter], I had him figured for some kind of hard-nosed jarhead friend of Lieutenant Commander Fokker; maybe someone he'd met during the Global Wars but who had opted to stay with conventional aircraft. Then, of course, there were all those stories I'd heard about him back on Macross Island. At any rate, all bets were off as soon as I met him."

- from the collected journals of Ambassador Maximilian Sterling (RDF, REF) (ret.)

Max debated actually answering the ringing phone or simply throwing it across the room so that it would shatter against the wall into several small and in-operational pieces. Shaking off the last of the haze the sudden awakening had left him with, he glanced at the clock.

3:07 AM.

Max picked up the receiver and held it up to his mouth. "If this isn't Publisher's Clearing House, I'm hanging up."

"Hey Max, it's Ben!" came the over-cheerful voice on the other end. "You'll never guess what!"

"Ben, did you know it's three in the morning?"

"Yeah, but guess what! I just picked up my assignment."

"Just now? You were supposed to go get it at sixteen-hundred yesterday!"

"So I forgot; sue me. But you'll never guess what!"

"They were mad at ya'."

"Well, that too. But I pulled duty in Vermilion! We're gonna be wing-mates! I mean, c'mon, what're the odds of that?"

Max sighed, exasperated. "G'night, Ben."

"Hey, I'll see ya' in the-"

Max hung up the phone. He was about to head off back to bed, but stopped, thinking. After another moment, he reached down and unplugged the phone from the jack.

Ben was knocking on Max's door bright and early.

"Don't you ever sleep?" Max asked as Ben entered.

"Not last night," said Ben, "Yasumahi threw one Hell of a party! You should have been there!"

"Blech!" Max exclaimed. "With the way he drinks, no thanks." A thought suddenly occurred to him. "You weren't drunk last night, were you?"

"Heck no! It was much more fun to watch everyone else make fools of themselves! Nope, not me. I was just pumped, is all."

"Yeah, well, you're still pumped. Stay away from my coffeepot while I go get changed. We gotta go meet this Hunter guy at oh-eight-hundred."

"Oh I forgot to tell you," said Ben taking a seat to wait, "Ari called me this morning 'cause she couldn't get through ta ya'. She wants to meet us in the hanger bays at oh-seven-hundred."

"She say why?"

"Nope."

Max glanced at the clock; it said that it was ten to seven. His mouth fell open and he rushed around the room looking for items of clothing and other such hygiene related things. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Ben cracked a sarcastic smile. "It's a conspiracy, Max. We're all out ta make ya' late. Better hurry up or your girlfriend'll be mad at ya'."

"Feef nah my gurlfrien!" Max exclaimed around a toothbrush.

"Didn't look that way last night."

"Fuh uh!"

"I don't shut up, I grow up. And when-"

Max spit into the sink and shot Ben a look. "If you finish that, I may have to hurt you."

After Max gathered his wits about him again, he and Ben went winding through the corridors and passages of the ship, taking a shortcut through Macross City. They finally ended up at the hanger bays, huffing and puffing. They found Ari leaning against a wall. She looked their way as they approached and feigned annoyance.

"You blokes couldn't even be on time for me? I'm hurt."

"I was waitin' for him," said Ben, indicating Max.

"He only told me ten minutes ago," Max retorted.

She got in between both of them and put a hand on their shoulders. "Sarcasm, boys. Now. Take a look at that!" She motioned to a Veritech that was waiting out in the open. "What do ya' think o' that!"

Max and Ben looked at the thing for a moment.

"It's... Green," stated Ben.

"Aldebaran whiskey, Mr. Scott!"

Max and Ben gave Ari a puzzled look.

"Never mind. Boys, meet my Veritech, the Green Lantern!"

Ben burst into uproarious laughter. "Green Lantern! Did you get it at the bottom of the cereal box! And I thought all you got outa them were decoder rings!"

Ariana stood in front of Ben, arms akimbo. "At least I did something to make it look different! You did squat with your Valk! So if you don't like it, either walk on by or step out back!"

"Hey!" Ben exclaimed, putting fists up in front of him. "I was kinda busy having a life last night, you asocial brat!"

"Brat, am I?" Ariana shot back. "At least I don't have to live with the disease of smeg-infested testosterone!"

Max looked around at the other pilots in the hanger and noticed that Ben and Ari's little tiff was beginning to be noticed. "Guys, would ya' calm down?" he asked, in a placating tone. "It's really not that big a deal."

"Yes it is!" Ari and Ben snapped back, still glaring at one another.

Max took a step back from the pair, as they looked about ready to get into a slug-fest right there in the hanger bay with several Lieutenants looking on. None of them seemed to notice the names being rattled off over the PA.

"I noticed you named it after a man super hero," Ben nipped.

"Just what are you insinuating?" Ariana retorted.

"I think you know."

She let out a rather large, blaring growl. "Insult my womanhood would you!" A thought occurred to her and her eyes narrowed, slyly. She went over to Max and grabbed on to his arm in mock affection. "I didn't see you with a date last night."

Max turned pale an nearly fainted, but remained unnoticed by the two combatants.

"What's yer problem, Ari!" Ben groused.

"Bad circulation," Max quipped, still pale. He allowed his knees to buckle under him, partly due to shock and partly because he wanted to diffuse the situation before it got worse.

Ariana was suddenly shaking him by the shoulders. "Max! Stay with me! I was kidding!"

"And Corporal Rick Hunter," the PA finished.

Max and Ben looked at each other, puzzled. "Corporal?" the two of them asked in unison.

"I thought this guy was a Lieutenant," said Ben, "what gives?"

"Yeah, I don't get it," Max agreed.

"Suppose he hasn't gotten the news yet?" Ari hypothesized.

"But that would mean..." Max began.

"He's new..." Ben mused.

The two young men moaned, frustrated and fearing the worst.

Once again, Max found himself in the White Dragon; this time having been towed there by new superior Rick and Ben. The place had been put back together remarkably well since the previous night's bash. Even the stain on the carpet which had been caused by a collision between the punch bowl and a slightly less-than-sober corporal was no longer in evidence. The lighting was back to normal, the crepe paper was gone, but the party atmosphere was still there.

As soon as the three of them arrived, Rick sought out Lynn-Minmei, the niece of the restaurant's owners and, to hear Rick tell it, his girlfriend. The birthday girl was presently surrounded by friends and family and waved to Rick and soon as she saw him. After a quick, mocking scolding about being late and a short fiasco about a present, they were all seated at a table. Minmei continued to buzz around, the center of attention.

"Whew!" Ben exclaimed. "She sure has energy, Lieutenant!"

"Yeah," Rick responded, somewhat wistfully.

"You sure she doesn't get around?"

Max, absolutely shocked by Ben's remark, buried his face in his hands, embarrassed for his friend. "Ben, tact, please."

"This from the expert," Ben said, "you can't even tell when a girl is flirting with you."

"Ari is not flirting with me," Max stated, blushing up a storm.

"Ari?" Rick asked. "As in Ariana Allan, the girl that was in your class?"

"You heard of her?" Ben asked.

"Yeah, it's kinda unusual to see women in the Skulls. Roy told me about her. She your blushing girlfriend, Max?"

"No!" Max exclaimed, waiving hands in front of him as if in fear of his life. "We're just friends! Really!"

Just then, Minmei returned and leaned on the back of Max's chair. "Someone's modest," she crooned.

Max, somewhat startled, turned around in his seat and regarded her. "Well, we are," he said, simply.

Minmei giggled and somehow, all the tension that had just built up in the blue haired pilot melted away. "I don't think we've met," she said, "I'm Lynn-Minmei. Did you come with Rick?"

"Yeah," Max said, almost in a whisper, "I'm Max Sterling."

Rick, meanwhile seemed to look a little perturbed about something.

"He one of your pilot friends, Rick?" Minmei asked, turned to him.

"Sort of," Rick responded, "he and Ben here were just assigned to my team. I'm a Lieuten-"

"Wow! That's great! Rick's a hero, you know. He saved my life once. Do you know 'Daisy, Daisy'?"

"Actually, yeah," Max found himself responding.

"Wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Do you think you could play the guitar for me? The Mayor wants to hear me sing."

"Sure!"

"Great! I'll go get the guitar!" Minmei bounced off and Max turned back to the table.

"She's a really nice girl, Lieutenant," he said to Rick.

Both Rick and Ben were staring at him, Rick with a particularly disconcerted expression.

"Did I do something?" Max asked, innocently.

"Of course not," Minmei stated, answering for Rick as she returned. She grabbed Max by the wrist and led him over to another knot of people. "C'mon, let's go over here." Soon, they were singing two part harmony while Max strummed away at the guitar. He noticed Mayor Luan move over toward Rick and whisper something to him which Rick responded to with a bit of a face. Their song ended and the room clapped.

"Actually," he heard Ben saying, "she's a miracle worker! She's actually managed to get Max out of his shell! He never does things like that unless Ari's around."

As if on cue, someone's hands reached around and covered Max's glasses. "Guess who," said the English accented voice.

"Ari, would you get off." Ariana's hands disappeared from his face and Max turned around to regard her. She was dressed in civvies; blue jeans, a v-neck sweatshirt, and sneakers. "What're you doing here?"

"Watching you have fun without me, apparently."

"Ariana!" Minmei exclaimed. "It's good to see you! How've you been?"

"You know each other?" Max asked.

"Sure!" said Ari. "The Lynns have been friends of the family since we were next-door neighbors for a few years back on the Island."

"I heard about your father," said Minmei to Ariana, "I'm sorry."

Ariana seemed to start at the comment and she looked from Minmei to Max and around the room in general. "So, Max. I see you're still on duty," she said, indicating his uniform, "how goes it with Hunter?"

"I dunno," said Max, "I think I made him mad at me for some reason."

"Not Rick!" Minmei exclaimed. "I've never seen him get mad at anyone. I wouldn't worry."

The alarms chose that moment to begin blaring and the party atmosphere immediately dissolved.

"Attention," Commander Hayes' voice sounded over the intercom, "we are under attack. All pilots, report for duty and man your Veritechs. All civilians to the shelters."

"Oh no!" Minmei exclaimed, bursting into tears.

"Oh yes!" Ari responded in kind pumping the air with a fist. "Time ta go ta work! Zentraedi my foot! We'll show 'em, eh Old Blue?"

"Zentraedi?"

"Yeah, haven't you heard? That's what they call themselves." She began to sprint for the door. "I'll see you in space, Max. And don't get yourself scragged, or I'll never talk ta you again." She threw off a casual salute and raced out of the restaurant.

Max soon found Ben next to him, bouncing to go himself. "That's the spirit! We gotta get moving. Come on Lieutenant," he called to Rick who was presently handing Minmei his handkerchief, "we don't wanna keep the enemy waiting, do we?"

Rick was soon with them, racing out the door to a nearby taxi. They all three climbed in and were soon joined by several others. The driver groused at the number of passengers, but conceded the need for swiftness and took them all.

The battle began in earnest as several Zentraedi battlepods converged on Vermilion Team's position near the ship. Evasive maneuvers were the order of the moment from Rick and all three broke formation.

For all his bravado before the battle, Ben had a battlepod on his tail almost immediately and was calling for an assist from Rick. The Lieutenant obliged and dispatched Ben's pursuer.

Max, meanwhile, was in the middle of a turkey shoot; luckily, he was the hunter. The Zentraedi mecha were all over him, but he somehow managed to see each one and effortlessly take them out. He momentarily looped out of their lines of fire and imaged a conversion to Battloid. Rifle/cannon in its hand, Max's bright blue Veritech went through moves and maneuvers with its pilot barely thinking about it.

"Look at him go!" Dixon yelled into the tac net, apparently having found a chance to have a small conversation.

"Wow, Max!" Rick agreed. "You're really somethin'!"

"I'm happy I was able to help out," Max responded, not wanting to sound arrogant. Despite his humble attitude, he was rather impressed with himself. He half expected to completely panic and freeze up. He just couldn't resist trying out the Fokker's Feint that Kochanski had taught the class. After he had finished the move, he realized that he had actually talked Rick and Ben through it. What is with me?

A moment later, Commander Hayes was on the tac net berating Rick for slow response time. The Lieutenant mumbled some response about having two inexperienced pilots with him. Oops! Max thought to himself. Way ta' go Sterling. You're really off on the right foot with this guy. He quickly pushed the thoughts aside, though, recalling the mantra Kochanski had drilled into them; "Nothing extraneous in mind or body."

"Enemy forces have broken through the defenses in the third quadrant," Hayes' voice emanated through the net, "you're our only hope, Vermilion Leader."

"We're on our way," Rick responded for his team.

Ben took the lead on the way, firing off rounds into the group of pods in front of them. Very little of it was effective and Ben was presently making frustrated noises in his cockpit.

"Cool it, Ben, don't waste your ammo," Rick warned.

Max, meanwhile, haloed a pod in his sights and holed it through with a single shot. "Hey, Lieutenant," he said, half jokingly, "is it okay to fire when it's not a waste?"

He could almost feel Ben's glare over the tac net.

Rick ordered Max and Ben to split up to either side and drive a wedge into the attacking pods. It only worked for but a moment, though, and soon Rick was calling for a conversion to Battloid and a landing on the ship's hull. Max reached for the B-lever and pulled it down, suddenly realizing that he had changed back from Battloid before. When'd I do that? Everything was moving so fast around him that he hadn't even noticed making the switch.

The three Battloids touched down on the hull and spread out in the field of disabled Destroids and Gladiators. Ben took up a position near one of the damaged Phalanx guns and began screaming curses and firing madly at the ostriches. He stepped out from behind it to trap shoot one of the pods, but was suddenly hit, full in the Battloid's back, from behind.

"Ben, are you alive in there?" Rick asked as he and Max began laying down some cover fire for their downed teammate. Ben responded, somewhat weakly, in the affirmative and Rick began moving in to lend a hand.

Just then, a score or more of battlepods moved in on them, coming around the horizon of the SDF-1. Max attempted to continue covering Rick and Ben, but soon found his hands full with a group of pods who seemed intent on driving him away from Rick. They were all protecting a single officer's pod that had touched down on the hull and simply kept coming around the ship. Max grew a bit concerned for his wing-mates and took a few steps toward them, firing at incoming mecha the entire way. But he was soon pushed back by one particularly clever pilot who landed on the hull in front of him and fired his mecha's foot thrusters into the torso of Max's Battloid. Max was forced back again and almost lost balance, but was otherwise fine. He haloed the mecha and shot a missile at it as is was haplessly rising from the hull. As the others moved in on him, he spotted Rick in a face-off with the Officer's Pod which was, just now, raising it's gun to fire.

Suddenly, all the action stopped. For just an instant, all the Zentraedi mecha stood motionless on the hull. Then, they simply lifted off and left.

Puzzled, Max regrouped with his wing-mates. "What happened, Lieutenant?" he asked.

"Dunno," Rick admitted, "but I'll take it, it wrapped things up out here. And not a minute too soon."

Max reached his quarters after the impromptu meeting with Rick and Ben in the mess hall and leaned against the wall, sighing. Despite the damage to their two mecha and Ben's head injury, Rick and Ben seemed in fairly good spirits and Max didn't want to be a wet blanket. So he found himself spouting all kinds of cheery, sappy mush. He'd even said something about battle being fun and hoping he could do it again soon before he had realized how perfectly morbid it had sounded.

Nine kills.

Despite the fact that his comments had sounded morbid, Max couldn't help but admit that there was a bit of truth to them. Nine was more than the people he had lost recently, and yet it didn't feel as though it was enough. Somehow, he had thought that joining the RDF would make him feel better about all that; as though helping to save the other civilians and officers aboard the SDF-1 would somehow negate that small amount of guilt that was growing inside him.

Why did that picture of his parents and his sister seem to be looking at him?

Max worked on pushing those thoughts, in fact thoughts of any kind at all, from his mind and decided he'd feel better after a good night in the sack. The thought had just crossed his mind when there was a knock on the door.

On the other side of the door was Rick Hunter, looking somewhat apologetic himself.

"Lieutenant!" Max exclaimed.

"Max, what'd I say about rank when we're off duty?" Rick said. "It's Rick, remember? You got a minute?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess," Max responded, "c'mon in."

"Thanks," said Rick, entering and looking around.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Max asked, moving to the small kitchenette.

"Uh, no, I've gotta go pretty soon. But, um, I was wondering if you were all right after the fight, today."

"Yeah, fine," Max affirmed, sounded somewhat unconvincing, "what makes you think I wasn't?"

"I dunno, you seemed sort of, well, out of it. I know that was your first firefight, but even Ben sounded more convincing in his enthusiasm."

Max sighed. "Was I really that bad, Lieuten-, er, Rick?"

"Well, only about as bad as I was." Rick looked around the room once again and seemed to spot the picture of Max's family. "That your family?"

"Uh, yeah," confirmed Max, moving over to the picture and tilting it so that it faced down on the shelf, "that's my folks, all right. A- a real crazy bunch, really."

"A real dead bunch, you mean."

Max started, eyes going a bit wide.

"I read your file."

"All of it?"

"Um hum. It sure explained a few things. Like why someone like you would join the RDF. And why you're so quiet. Look, if you ever want to, you know, talk-"

"Right, I gotcha," Max interrupted, "maybe when we both have a bit more time, huh?"

"Right," Rick agreed after a few moments of silence, "I guess I better go." Rick went to the door and opened it. "Oh, I almost forgot. I ran into Ariana Allan. She says 'plug your phone back in, you bloody smeghead, before I get pissed.' I think I'd do it if I were you."

"Ari!" Max exclaimed, smacking his forehead. Quickly, he reached down to the phone jack and plugged the lose cord in.

Rick allowed himself a short laugh. "G'night Max," he said, exiting.

"Night, Lieuten-... Oh I'm never gonna get used to that!"

"Relax, Corporal," Rick said, mercifully, "see ya' tomorrow."

Rick finally left and seconds later, the phone rang. "Hello?" Max inquired.

He was greeted by Ari's voice, swearing a blue streak at him for leaving his phone disconnected for so long.

"Hey, I'm sorry."

The swearing continued, stepped down a notch and in a somewhat apologetic manner.

"I said I was sorry. I forgot about it."

Little woman? Max almost said it aloud but managed to stop himself. Rick really wants a demotion, doesn't he? Lisa Hayes, in the cockpit of a Cat's Eye recon vessel, had just ordered Vermilion Team to give pursuit to a number of Zentraedi battlepods.

"I see them," Max said into the tac net, "going in."

He and Ben went in, haloing a mecha in their sights and firing over and over. Rick held back with the Cat's Eye for a moment, then followed them in mumbling something about there being a woman in King Kong, too to himself.

Max was brought up short by the thought of Commander Lisa Hayes, the "Old Sourpuss" as some were calling her, in the place of Fey Wray in the hand of a giant ape. It nearly cost him his left wing, though, and he concentrated on the battle once again.
Imaging over to Battloid, he took the VT's rifle/cannon in hand and spun around in a three-sixty, firing the whole time. He checked his tac display and found that the rest of the pods had been taken out by Rick and Ben.

Rick called the Cat's Eye to find out its status and, to the Vermilions' horror, got no response. The Lieutenant assumed, correctly, that it was in trouble and ordered them back to it. They got back just in time to see twelve battlepods moving in and spotted a large enemy ship also in range. Lisa apparently didn't see the large piece of rock that was drifting close and the Eye smashed into it, ripping off the radio dish and sending the rest spinning. Several pods surrounded it, connected some sort of tether lines to it, and began to drag it off toward the ship.

"Follow it!" Rick barked.

The three Veritechs, mechamorphosing to Battloid, made it into the Zentraedi hanger bay with only inches to spare. All three began pouring rounds into the Zentraedi mecha for all they were worth until the last one was downed. Two pilots had jumped out of their pods and were checking over the Cat's Eye when the Vermilions had entered, but they were quickly chased off by the firefight.

They're giants! Max's mind shouted at him. Of course, he had known about the Zentraedis' giant stature, but this was the first time he had seen one outside its mecha. His mind refused to believe that he had stayed the same size; instead, it was as though he had been shrunken and the Zentraedi were normal sized. It was the strangest feeling.

Rick, seemingly unfazed by it, had his Battloid down on one knee to inspect the Eye.

"Lieutenant Hunter, take your men and get out of here," Lisa commanded, weakly, "you've got no time to spare."

"Time enough to bring you with us," Rick responded.

Max's tac display showed a number of blips. He looked up from it and noticed some hallways around the bay. "Lieutenant, the Zentraedi are taking up positions at the end of the corridor," he warned, "we better blow this place."

"Just give me a few minutes of cover fire, Max," Rick ordered, "then we're outta here."

"That'll just about deplete my cannon charge."

"Mine too," Ben added.

"Cut the chatter," Rick snapped, "Open fire!"

Max and Ben opened up with a deafening barrage of fire while Rick again checked out the Cat's Eye and subsequently picked Lisa up from the cockpit, much to her protests. Shortly, Max and Ben's gatlings sputtered out and Max flashed a signal to Rick that he was out.

Huge was the word that entered into Max's mind just then and for a moment, he wasn't sure why. A moment later though, a particularly big Zentraedi was sailing down from the catwalk and smashing into Rick's half standing Battloid. He was especially frightening due to the gleaming metal plate that covered half of his face.

Yes, he was, most definitely, one of the elite.

Dear God, he's enormous!

Reacting quickly, Max focused his thoughts toward the battle again and in a moment, had pinned the giant's arms at his sides with his depleted cannon. Max looked about in almost a panic as the cockpit displays went wild, each and every one screaming for his attention. The Zentraedi's chest expanded over and over again, trying to get free and Max focused all the will he could through the thinking-cap to keep him at bay. It became almost a mind-over-might battle right then; something he was never taught about in flight school. Somehow, he managed to call to Ben, asking him to fire a warhead directly above. Once a hole was opened, he kicked in his foot thrusters and carried the giant up. He threw him outside the ship just as some kind of self repair system kicked in and sealed the breach.

Max landed back on the deck, breathing deeply as if to catch his breath and clearing his mind of all thoughts. He shook off the small headache beginning to form at the temples and heard Rick congratulating him.

"Guess we won't be seeing that character again."

"Not unless he can survive deep space without an extravehicular suit," Max responded.

Things slowed down for a few minutes as Lisa and Rick sniped at each other and Ben and Max took turns trying to burn through the hold's door with their lasers.

Then, reality was shattered by the return of the Zentraedi Max had just thrown outside the ship. In another moment, he found himself flying through another breach in the ship due to an explosion. He scrambled for purchase as the explosion's shock wave carried him outside. Finally, he found it in the form of one of several antenna-like protrusions on the hull. He grabbed it at the last second and held on as the shock wave continued. The antenna bent back and broke off, though, sending the Battloid reeling into space.

Max got control of his pitch and yaw with his Veritech's thrusters after the shock wave dispersed. Several systems were calling out for attention, but the system that held Max's was his memory; it replayed the events in the hold. He suddenly recalled Rick trying to eject from his disabled Battloid and being caught by the over-sized Zentraedi.

Max was certain Rick had been crushed in the giant's hand.

Not again! Not again! Not again!

The phrase repeated over and over again like a mantra in Max's mind as he recalled the Lieutenant that he had found himself under the command of just a few weeks prior, before the Miss Macross competition, before the destruction of the RADAR tower. He recalled the evening after their first battle together; how Rick had shown up to make certain he was all right in the head. Max realized that Rick had become a valued friend in just that short amount of time.

Another phrase broke in on the mantra like a thunderclap.

No more!

Max was puzzling over what to do with the unconscious Zentraedi he had dragged with his Battloid into an over-sized latrine when his cockpit went nuts once again. He looked around at everything, finding it all in relatively good shape, considering, and finally glanced at the astrogation display. The thing was going haywire and temporal sensors were spinning wildly.

A fold! The damn ship was executing a freaking fold!

"Aw Hell," Max muttered to himself as he slumped back into his seat and watched days accrue on his gauges.

He suddenly recalled the last time he had been caught in a fold. It seemed something was conspiring against him when he was in conjunction with those things; something that insisted on adding guilt to his conscience. Max closed his eyes to the flood of memories once again and prayed that he was wrong about having lost Rick and possibly even Ben.

He was beginning to feel lonely when the externals picked up a sound coming from the Zentraedi piled at his Battloid's feet. He gave him a swift kick to the head, knocking him out again.

"Just keep dreamin' sunshine," he carped.

That, of course, triggered another train of thought; what to do with the Zentraedi. An old Bugs Bunny cartoon pushed its way into Max's head at that moment with irrelevant clarity.

No. That was simply too crazy. It would never work, not in a million years. It was too cliche, for crying out loud!

Max gazed at the Zentraedi below him.

Then again, these guys have never seen Bugs Bunny.

Even after it had worked for getting past countless soldiers, Max still couldn't believe he was actually pulling it off.

A clothed Battloid. They were going to commit him.

He suddenly spotted two Zentraedi pushing some sort of hover table through the corridor. He zeroed in on it with his external camera and spotted Rick, Ben, and Lisa on its surface, all looking very much alive and well.

Max gave a sigh of relief in elation, seeing all three of his friends and fellow officers looking none the worse for wear.

He began following the hover table at a discreet distance, unwilling to let his companions out of his sight again. They were taken to some sort of hold area and dumped inside a Zentraedi proportioned cell. A single sentry was positioned outside and he was, rather quickly, displaying signs of weariness. Max, a bit of a glint in his eye, moved his Battloid closer to the alien and smacked a metal-shod fist on the back of his neck. The Zentraedi hit the deck with a tremendous thud and Max stepped over him to reach the door's handle.

"What the fraggin' h-!" he exclaimed upon seeing Rick Hunter and Lisa Hayes, of all things, locked in a passionate embrace and practically frenching one another!

He snapped out of his shock and called out to the three retreating forms on the deck and soon, all three were neatly stowed in the pockets of the Zentraedi uniform. Some small jokes and jabs were exchanged, but all that was brought to a halt when Max said "Get yourselves down in there. We're moving out."

Rick and Lisa stopped their collective griping and Max couldn't help but get a power trip off the whole thing. The two of them hadn't done anything but contradict each other for the entire mission and, quite frankly, Max was sick of it.
Now all he had to do was find a concealed area he could get the others into his cockpit. It would be a tight squeeze, but...

That was suddenly rendered a moot point as a Zentraedi officer was calling to his Battloid, ordering him to stop. At least, that's what Max assumed; he couldn't understand the alien's words. He broke into a run only to plow into two more aliens around the corner. He slammed one into the other, but forgot about the first who was now leveling a rather large gun at him. The Veritech took blast after blast in the back and circuits began to fuse and break. He reconfigured to Guardian, but was suddenly faced with the prospect of running into a wall. Directly ahead, there was some sort of access way that looked at though it would give easily, so Max poured on full thrusters and burst through.

He nearly smashed right into two Zentraedi; the large one from before and a substantially smaller one. The Guardian continued on to crash through a large glass bubble and sail out into a room the size of a football field, finally coming to a stop in an elevator of some sort.

An alarm started to sound just then and Max glanced at it.

It was the fire hazard indicator.

A heat suddenly began to build to his left near his feet and he looked to it. A light was flickering from the general area of his oxygen supply tank.

"Oh crap!" he swore, beginning to free himself of the harness that held him in his seat and popping the canopy. He clambered out on to the outstretched arm of the Guardian. "The circuits are fried!" he informed the others. "This thing's gonna blow!"

Rick, meanwhile, had pulled the elevator's door closure lever, temporarily shielding the Veritech from enemy fire. All four RDFers climbed down to the floor and began praying for the doors to open before the Guardian blew to Kingdom Come.

It finally opened after six levels had been passed and, of course, a Zentraedi was standing in their path. He made an airborne grab for the four of them which they miraculously managed to avoid.

Shortly, Max was being carried forward by the blast from the time-bomb Veritech. He slammed into the deck violently with a tremendous ringing in his ears. He soon felt hands on his shoulder, pulling him upright. He looked up, slightly dazed, and found Ben hauling him along and saying something he couldn't hear.

"What?" he asked, but got no response from his wing-mate. He figured Ben had the same hearing problem he did.

Max gathered himself and looked behind he and Ben. Three shock troopers were fast on their tail and neither he nor Ben had time to drag the other along in a dazed state. Never breaking stride, he shrugged off of Ben's shoulder and they both picked up the pace. The hall they were running down ended in another elevator which they both raced into. Barely stopping, Max turned around and trained the laser pistol he had rescued from his Veritech at the controls and fired. The doors slid shut right in front of the shock troopers.

Feeling a little light headed, Max leaned against the wall and triggered his helmet's faceplate open.

"Did you see me?" Ben was exclaiming as Max's hearing returned. "I hurtled that giant's hand like it was nothing!"

"You did nothing of the sort," Max assured him, "it was just a lucky miss, that's all."

"Wet blanket."

"Hey! I saved your butt!"

"Some save. Now we're being chased all over an enemy ship with no means of getting off it."

"I guess you prefer it back there in the cell with the two stooges?"

Ben took on a considering look. "You've got a point."

By yet another lucky twist of fate, the four RDFers ran into each other again and traded quick summaries of what they had gone through. After a bit more poking around and evading Zentraedi, they found that the ship they were on was connected to another. There was a short discussion on whether to stay put or go on the other cruiser. Citing the fact that the Zentraedi on this ship were looking for them, they opted for the other cruiser, a vaguely purple affair of a ship which was similar to the one they were presently aboard, but smaller in size. They concealed themselves aboard it and waited.

The four of them spread out inside the Zentraedi battlepod and took up the positions they had agreed upon.

Max climbed up to the cockpit's controls for the laser cannons that were affixed to the front of the mecha's bulbous torso. He looked them over and formed a guess as to how they worked.

"Max," Lisa called from below. He turned to regard her. "Put your faceplate back down. If something should go wrong, at least one of us should make it back to tell them what happened."

Max was reaching up to comply when his hand suddenly stopped. He looked at it for several moments, a mixture of emotions washing through him. Slowly, almost unwillingly, he put his hand back down at his side and straightened to attention. "No, ma'am," he said.

Lisa turned from what she was doing to regard him in surprise. "What was that, Corporal?"

"I said, no ma'am."

Rick and Ben were now looking at him, aghast.

"Are you disobeying a direct order?" Lisa inquired harshly.

"Yes, ma'am, I am," Max responded, evenly.

"Max!" Rick exclaimed.

"With all due respect, Commander, Lieutenant, I'm in this all the way; at least as far as the rest of you. Please, ma'am, I have to do this. Don't make me disobey an order, I'm begging you."

"Lisa," Rick called to the commander. The two locked eyes for a moment and Rick seemed to be pleading with her with his gaze.

Lisa sighed. "All right. Forget I said anything about it. But this is the only time. Is that understood Corporal?"

"Yes ma'am. Thank you, Commander."

"We're coming out of the defold right on schedule," Lisa informed them after several seconds of silent work, "it's got to be Earthspace or an incredible coincidence." They all looked at one another, knowing what was coming next.

"Let's see if we can start this thing up," said Rick as they all turned to their tasks.

Their flight was a bumpy and uneven one, and there was a rather large battle happening all around them. But they found time to elate at the sight of the SDF-1 just before Lisa attempted to contact the bridge. She wasn't successful, however, and there was a brief few moments when they thought they would be shot out of the sky by friendly fire. But instead, a number of Battloids, including Roy Fokker's Skull One, rendezvoused with the pod and towed them into one of the hanger bays. Soon, they were surrounded by mecha and desperately trying to open the pod's hatch.

"Okay, heave!" Rick commanded his two Vermilion wing-mates. The hatch finally popped open and all three fell back onto the giant seat.

"Well, finally!" Lisa exclaimed. "Thank goodness! When you start bragging to your fighter pilot buddies about this mission, boys, don't forget it took you just about forever to get a simple hatch open."

"You weren't so hot at getting in touch with your precious bridge, I noticed!" Rick shot back.

Max sighed. There they went again. "I thought you both did very well," he said, placatingly.

"Ah look out, Max," said Rick, "and let's get outta here."

They all began to scramble about, climbing up the sides of the pod and trying to get out. Needless to say, there was a certain amount of unrest.

Ben was climbing up one control panel, Lisa just behind him, when his foot slipped and knocked into the commander's face.

"Ben, if you don't get your foot out of my face, I'm going to break it off!"

Rick jumped in to defend Ben, Max began checking Lisa's head for lumps, and all Hell broke lose, bringing new meaning to the term "battlepod."

"Everybody shut up!" Rick shouted, breaking it up. "Ben, Max: gimme a boost up, here."

Ben and Max obliged, both cupping their hands and allowing Rick to step into them. Together, they hoisted him up to where he could reach the lip of the pod's exit. "Hold your fire!" Rick exclaimed, hauling himself up triumphantly. "Roy, we escaped from the Zentraedi- um..." He paused and looked back down at the others. "We escaped! Man, have we got stories to tell! We were in an enemy ship! We met their leaders! We shot our way out in this pod! We... We... What's wrong?"

Max, Ben, and Lisa could hear a number of annoyed groans issue from several external speakers.

"We were hoping for a POW," they all heard Roy, his tone half in jest, "boy is Captain Gloval gonna be sore at you for not being a Zentraedi."

Chapter Text

"The first lesson- one of many- I learned from Max Sterling was to beware the quiet ones. In those first few mission briefings before the I took the stick of that Cat's Eye, Max was quiet, complying; I had heard he was still pretty new to the Skulls, but he was so insecure! Rick [Hunter] and I didn't help much with our constantly conflicting orders. Sometimes, it seemed like Max didn't know whether to zig or zag.
"Little did I know that behind those plum tinted glasses lied both a terrifying dragon waiting to spit fire and a gentle lamb wanting to run and hide."

- Lisa Hayes, Recollections

Max, Rick, and Ben stepped into the hallway which was considerably less crowded than the backstage media circus that was following Minmei around.

"I never knew backstage could get so hot!" Ben exclaimed, fanning himself.

"I never knew a uniform could wilt," stated Rick, giving Ben a small poke.

"It is, look at this," said Ben, fingering his collar.

Max leaned against the wall, allowing his two wing-mates to go around as they so often did. It was all in fun, of course. You didn't face certain death with a couple of guys and not become best friends.

"Max!" a voice exclaimed from the hall entrance. All three pilots turned and found Ariana streaking toward them. She continued past both Rick and Ben and immediately wrapped her arms around Max. "Thank God!" she breathed, somewhat more intensely than she ever had before. "I thought... when we didn't hear anything... for two weeks..." She trailed off and began crying into his shoulder. Max, concerned, let himself go and returned her embrace.

Ben seemed about to say something, but Rick clapped a hand over his mouth and dragged him off.

"We'll be at the White Dragon," said Rick as they both exited.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Max asked of Ari after Rick and Ben were gone.

"I'd heard that you and the others had come back," she sobbed, "but I couldn't believe it. Not until I saw you myself. It just seemed too good to be true."

"C'mon, Ari," said Max, trying to take on a lighter tone, but not succeeding very well, "did you really think I'd let myself get scragged by some XT giant?"

"I didn't know what to think," she said, holding him tighter and burying her face further into his shoulder, "I gave up hope."

"Would you stop that," said Max, lifting her chin up to face him, "I'm back now. You don't have to worry about all of that any more."

She gave him a weak smile through the remains of her tears. "You're such a sweety, aren't ya'," she said, reaching up and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. Max felt some of the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. "All right, you're forgiven. Just don't do this to me again."

"Not if I can help it," said Max as he took her arm on his, "let's go for a walk. This hallway's stuffy."

"Look at that!" Ari exclaimed, pointing to one of the many windows in Macross City park. "I never thought I'd be so happy to see the moon. Just think; Earth's just beyond. We'll be home in three days!"

"Yeah," Max sighed, "Ari, what will you do after we get there?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, will you stay in the RDF, or resign and go somewhere else?"

"RDF," she responded simply, "you?"

"RDF," Max agreed.

"You?" Ariana asked. "Max, don't take this the wrong way, because I know you're the best fighter pilot aboard ship, but I wonder if this line of work is really for you. You're so... gentle and sensitive. Every time I see you inboard the ship, I wonder where your twin is. You're kind, Max; you're not a killer."

Max slipped his arm out of hers and looked to the window. "I become what I have to become out there. That doesn't mean I like destroying things. I have to defend what's left of what I care about. The RDF is my family now, Ari. If I left, what would I have? And besides." He turned back to her and found her absently looking out the window. He put his hands on her shoulders and she looked up at him. "I could say the same thing about you."

She turned away from him and folded her arms over her chest, as if hugging herself.

"My father," she said, "he was an RDFer before I was. He was part of Commander Fokker's original squadron. He died in the battle around Saturn." She turned back to Max. "He wasn't a killer either, Max, and every time he went into battle, a part of him died inside. But he kept going out there, because of me, my mother, and my sister. He couldn't just stand by while there was something he could do to make a difference. I never understood it! I thought if I joined the Robotech Defense Force, I could. Like it or not, it's a part of me now, and I never walk away from myself."

Ariana turned back and looked out the window again and Max, speechless, did likewise.

"I know it hurts," said Max after a few moments, "I know what it's like to lose family. I understand."

"Max?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you still... get scared out there?"

"Mm hmm. You?"

"Yeah. I've been thinking a lot, since I thought you were... were dead. This can't be all there is, can it? We spend our lives fighting what's around us and then we die and that's all? There must be some part of us that goes on."

"No one's ever come back to tell me. No matter how much I wished it to happen. That, more than anything's started to make me wonder. I wonder what we have to do to get where we want to be... after."

Ariana cracked a lop-sided smile. "Listen to us," she said, "one would think we were going to die tomorrow. You're back and that's what matters. It's time to party; let's get over to the White Dragon."

"Eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die?"

"You bet'cha!"

Ben took a large gulp of soda from his glass, swallowed, threw his head back, and let fly one of the largest burps ever heard on a spaceship. The silence that had surrounded the event was broken by cheers and laughter. Roy, nearby, jokingly feigned lightheadedness.

"Holy cow, Ben!" Rick exclaimed.

"Yeah, could you pick up your chunks?" Ariana agreed.

Ben took on a smug look. "I dare someone to beat that!"

"I'll take that challenge," stated Roy, picking up his own glass of soda and downing a gulp. He too let loose a burp, but it fizzled and turned to breath quickly. Roy, perturbed, looked at his glass of soda. "This stuff is flat," he said by way of excuse.

"C'mon, admit it," said Ben, "I can burp better than anyone in this room."

"Oh boy," Max said, as though he knew what was coming next.

"You think so, eh?" Ari inquired, then turned to Max. "Maestro?"

Max sighed once, then began to hum part of "Dance of the Hours." At the end of each stanza, Ariana let lose exactly three controlled burps, in tone to the music. She finished off the number with a huge burp that lasted almost three seconds and included all the swallowed air she hadn't yet used.

The room once again went into laughter and cheers and Ari took a deep bow. One person even threw a few coins on the table.

"I bow to the Queen of Crass Behavior!" Roy exclaimed, pulling an Arabian Knights style kowtow on the table.

"All hail the Mistress of Nauseating!" Rick agreed, stabbing the air with a fist.

"I can't believe I'm a party to this," said Max, rolling his eyes.

"I can't believe I just heard that out of a lady," said Ben, slightly nonplussed.

"Who said that about me?" Ariana asked, accusingly. "Who's been saying that?"

Another burst of laughter followed, then the room settled and everyone sat again.

"So, Ari, I see you were busy while we were gone," said Rick, indicating the Lieutenant's bars on her uniform.

"Yes," said Ari, absently fingering the rank insignia, "we lost Lieutenant Fischer a week ago. They chose to give me command of Cerulean team."

"Fischer?" Rick asked. "Damn. That's awful. He was a good guy."

"But I couldn't think of a better person to take his place than Ariana," said Roy, "she's the best in Cerulean. Maybe better than you or I, Little Brother."

"I didn't take his place, Commander," Ariana corrected, "just his role. No one pilot can take the place of another on this ship."

"Well, in any case," said Max, rising and taking up his glass, "I think a toast is in order. To Fischer and his incredible successor, The Green Lantern, Ariana Allan." He clinked his glass against hers as others around the table did likewise with others.

"Let's not forget the other promotions that have happened," said Ari, raising her own glass, "to the pilots of Vermilion team, the looniest trio of smegheads and luckiest sons of bitches ever to grace the skies."

"Here, here," Roy agreed.

"Luck?" Rick, Max, and Ben asked in unison with a touch of incredulity.

"Luck had nothin' to do with it," Ben protested.

"Please," Ari countered, "Old Blue clothed his Battloid in a Zent uniform and they didn't recognize him. That's not luck?"

Max, Rick, and Ben all but pressed their faces against the window, watching the battle outside the ship. It was strange that the larger number of Zentraedi mecha were still hanging back and not engaging. Impatiently, Ben pounded a fist on the plexi.

"Man, we should be out there!"

"Calm down, Ben, Roy and our boys are doin' just fine," said Rick, "I give this battle a half an hour."

"Look out!" Max shouted as he spotted an out of control battlepod headed straight for their window. They all ducked and covered, convinced that their now-famous luck had just run out.

But the expected crash never came. After the expected time had elapsed, all three off-duty pilots looked up cautiously.

Ariana's bright green Veritech, the Green Lantern, was presently swinging the battlepod around by the leg in Battloid.

"Yeah!" Max cheered. "Go get 'em, Ari!" Rick and Ben joined in with cheers of their own.

After disposing of the pod, Green Lantern turned to regard their window and saluted with its metal-shod hand. It then promptly mechamorphosed to fighter mode and sped away.

"I gotta admit," said Ben, "the girl's got style."

"Atmospheric contact!" Claudia's voice bellowed over the ship wide intercom. The ship started to shake and the three Vermilion soon found themselves on their bottoms and still reeling.

"Do you think the heat shields are still good after all of this?" Max inquired over the ship's groans and creeks.

"We landed an Mars, didn't we?" Rick responded.

"A lot's happened since Mars," Ben reminded him.

The next thing Max knew, he was being poked and prodded awake by Ben. Slowly, behind the eyes, a headache began to form. Max was beginning to recognize that feeling all too well. He let out a groan and rubbed his face with his hand.

"He all right?" he heard Rick the next moment.

"He's coming around now," said Ben.

"Goddam, clock-stopping, ostrich-flying freakoids," Max mumbled as he levered himself into a sitting position, "how many times can I get conked because of them?"

"You all right," Rick asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," said Max, waving it off. He suddenly noticed the silence that seemed to permeate his surroundings. He glanced out the window and found himself looking at blue sky meeting a black sea. He immediately got to his feet and pressed his hands to the window. "Earth!"

"And you slept all the way home!" Ben joked.

"C'mon," said Rick, "they're supposed to open the main cargo hatch. Let's get down there!"

Ben was the first one out as the hatch dropped open. Shouting for joy, he executed a series of somersaults and cartwheels that neither Rick nor Max had thought he could do.

"He'd make a pretty good acrobat, wouldn't he," Max mused laughing a bit.

"Probably," said Rick, "but look at that blue sky. That's no EVE projection! I can't say I blame Ben a bit!"

"Look!" Ben exclaimed, pointing upward, "they're giving us a fighter fly-by to welcome us!"

The crowd that had gathered on the hatch all cheered as they Veritechs flew over head.

"Look over there," said Rick, pointing to the Prometheus flight deck, "the fighting must have stopped, the squadrons are landing."

Max followed Rick's indication. "Have you seen Cerulean yet?"

"Not yet," Rick responded.

"There they are!" Ben exclaimed, smiling. But his smile soon faded as a realization struck him. "But there's only two of 'em."

Max looked over and followed the two VT's as they landed, but couldn't quite make out the markings on either of them. "Ari!" he breathed and took off back into the ship. He sprinted the entire way to the Prometheus and stopped just short of the door to catch his breath. He entered the hanger bay and looked around urgently. He spotted the two Cerulean team Veritechs surrounded by techs and crew chiefs.

Miller's, Reese's...

"No," he whispered to himself. He then spotted Miller walking toward one of the other doors and rushed over to him. "Jim! Jim! Wait up!" The pilot turned around with a sullen look on his face. "Jim, where's Ariana?" Max asked once he had caught up.

Miller looked away from Max and started through the door. "Ariana who?" he asked, meaningfully.

Max was barely aware of the sharp intake of breath he performed right then. Instead, he was more focused on the sudden feeling in his stomach; as though someone had just kicked him with a Battloid.

He wasn't sure how long he walked in the perfect haze that enveloped him just then. He found himself in one of the unfinished and unpopulated parts of the ship, surrounded by silence and his thoughts.

No one ever heard the high decibel scream that issued forth from him.

Rick and Ben paced near the door to Max's quarters alternately.

"Where do you suppose he is?" Ben asked.

"They probably both forgot about us," said Rick, "they're probably living it up in town somewhere like everyone else."

"Then why are we here?" Ben inquired.

Max came around the corner just then, eyes on the floor and a completely blank look on his face. He didn't say a word to either of them as he went up to the door and opened it.

"Max?" Rick ventured, noticing his friend rather pale.

Max continued inside. Rick and Ben, concerned, followed. Max dropped into the seat near the little desk he kept, removed his glasses, and leaned his face in his hands.

"Max, where's Ari?" Ben asked.

Max began to shudder with each exhale and slowly crossed his arms on the desk top. Just before he rested his head in them, Rick and Ben spotted a great deal of moisture appearing around his tightly closed eyes. He shuddered more and more and curled his legs up underneath his chair.

Ben was about to reach over and grab Max's shoulder, but Rick stopped him and motioned for the door. Ben nodded and they both exited, closing the door after them.

Max, alone, wept, wondering when it would all end.

Somehow, Max managed to pull himself together enough to leave his quarters and engage in what was fast becoming one of his favorite pastimes; walking. He found his way to Macross City Park, next to the window at which he and Ariana had been contemplating everything from battle fear to the here after only a few days prior. Max now contemplated the dark sky outside the ship. Stars were again showing, but now they shimmered and twinkled through the planet's atmosphere.

"Are you Max Sterling?" asked a voice behind him.

Max turned, broken from his reverie, and found a brown-haired woman about the age his mother would have been standing in front of him. "Are you?" she reiterated.

"Yes," Max said, finally finding his voice, "Yes, I am. Can I help you, miss..."

"Allan," the woman responded, "Caroline Christine Costigan Allan. I understand you were a friend of my daughter, Ariana?"

Max nodded in the affirmative. "Mrs. Allan, you can't possibly know how sorry I am-"

"Don't," she commanded, "don't make this hard, I beg you. I'd like you to know that my daughter spoke very highly of you. I had the impression that you two were very close."

Max took a few steps away from Caroline and stared back out the window. "She was... Special. I could talk to her and she could talk to me."

"I gathered that. This was found with her things." Caroline pressed a lumpy envelope into Max's hand. "It's addressed to you."

Caroline began to wordlessly walk away as Max stared at the envelope. "Mrs. Allan," he called after her and she turned back to him, "I... I'm sorry I wasn't able to... to help her."

Caroline looked to the ground, obviously trying to hide tears. After a moment, she simply continued walking away. Watching her, Max fingered the envelope, then looked at it.

He shoved it in his pocket and continued his own walk.

He passed many a landmark that had before seemed so unimportant; the complex that housed the Veritech simulators, that alley nearby, a certain tree a red-haired cadet had hung upside down from. Max was accosted by memories every way he turned. At one point, he even had to turn around and look at what was behind him. He felt vaguely as though he were being followed.

He didn't know why, but Max steered in the direction of the Macross City church. As he entered, he found a service going on in the main chapel, the congregation singing a hymn. He sighed and moved off toward one of the smaller side chapels. He found an empty one and entered, leaning against the wall and looking at the various stained glass windows and the light that came through them playing on the floor, the alter, the pews.

He caught a few phrases of the hymn the congregation was singing as it drifted his way and made note of the words. They seemed somehow appropriate. Recalling the church from Macross Island, he remembered that small pieces of paper were usually kept in the back of the pews. Sure enough, they were there. Listening to the hymn, he scrawled the words across the paper as he heard them:

Lead kindly, light
Amid the encircling gloom
Lead thou, me on
The night is dark
And I am far from home
Lead thou me on
Keep thou my feet
I do not ask to see the distant scene
One step enough for me.

His hand was shaking. Why was that? What was wrong with him? As he was looking at the paper, something wet splashed down on to it, partially smearing the first line. Realizing it was from his eyes, Max shoved the paper into his pocket with the envelope, wiped his eyes on his sleeve, and took one last look at the small chapel.

This place was too formal.

The parties were still going on atop the open cargo hatch. Most of Macross City and a fair number of RDFers were living it up and celebrating the return to Earth.

Max could see and hear all of it from the place where he stood on the flight deck of the Daedalus. Briefly, he wondered if any of them knew about the other side of the ship's return to Earth; all the brave men and women who had been killed on the way home.

Max looked up at the stars for a few moments before taking the mysterious envelope from his pocket. He hesitated briefly before opening it, but finally steeled himself and ripped open the seal. There were two separate pieces of paper inside which he tugged out.

There was suddenly a clack at his feet and he looked down. The light wasn't quiet good enough to see what it was while he was standing, so he squatted down and picked the thing up. He found it to be a small locket of silver with a piece of light blue stone embedded in the front. Max puzzled over it, then decided that there may be a reference to it on one of the pieces of paper.

The thing he hadn't considered when deciding where to open the letter was light. The starlight in the middle of the Pacific simply wasn't enough to read by. Max held it close to his face, stood with his back to the light coming from the parties on the cargo hatch, everything he could think of, but to no avail. There simply wasn't enough light to read what was on the pieces of paper.

He was looking down at the papers in defeat, about to burst into tears once more, when it happened. The whole world seemed to turn green around him and he looked up.

The sky was lit by an event Max could only reason to be Northern Lights. He couldn't recall a time when he had seen them, having lived on Macross Island for a good chunk of his life, which was, so he thought, too far south to see them. He looked around in wonder at the event; the sky was lit in swaths of mostly green light, intertwined every here and there with blues and reds.

He suddenly remembered the papers. He quickly held them up to where he could look at them.

The one on top read as follows:

Dear, dear Max,
This may sound cliche, but if you're reading this it means that either I'm dead, missing, or never expected to
recover from some injury.
The locket enclosed is for you, Old Blue. Don't open it yet; wait until a day that is special to you. You'll know the
day when it comes.
I wanted to pass on the only piece of wisdom I've picked up during my stay aboard the ship (you know the ship, the
SDF-1). No matter how something appears, don't take it for granted or jump to conclusions. It will only drive you
crazy.
And lastly, look at the second page that's in the envelope. It has a certain set of instructions especially for you.
Oh yeah, and I know neither of us believes in hauntings, but if you forget me or fail to carry out the instructions
on that last page, I will do just that to you.
Now smile before I tell a joke.
Ariana.

Max didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The letter sure was Ariana, through and through. No one else could have...

He was! He actually was smiling at the letter!

Max lifted the letter off the top of the second piece of paper and looked at Ari's special instructions.

Centered in the page, in large, bold letters, were the words "Don't blame yourself, you smeghead!"

That was it. He was laughing.

God! Did she know him!

Suddenly, he stopped as a realization struck him; that was the last one, the last joke he would ever hear from Ariana Allan. Or was it? He glanced at the locket he still held in his hand and wondered. He considered opening it for a moment, but held back; it wasn't time.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

Max started and turned, surprised to find Lisa Hayes coming up behind him, also looking at the lights in the sky in wonderment. "The Aurora Borealis," she mused, "the ship's trip through the atmosphere must have brought the right particles with it. Or whatever it is."

"Yeah," Max sighed, folding up the letter and shoving it back in his pocket, "I've never seen one before." He looked up at it once again. "Just the right day for it."

"Claudia and I saw you from the bridge. I don't know how she does it, but she convinced me that you were pensive."

Max looked up at the bridge. "From all the way up there? That's amazing."

"She's got that kind of talent, I guess. So what's up?"

Max wondered over to the edge of the Daedalus and sat, dangling his legs and feet over the side. "Just reading a letter from a friend, ma'am."

Lisa allowed herself a laugh. "You can dispense with the formalities, Max, we're both off duty." It was then she noticed the severity of his pensiveness. "One of those kind of letters, hm? I never understood why so many people wrote those things. They tie up all kinds of loose ends, leaves nothing to come back for."

"It's all not quite so neatly tied up, I'm afraid," said Max putting a hand to his forehead, "she'll be back to haunt me. That was her promise, not my speculation."

"She? It was... Oh, it's from Lieutenant Allan, isn't it. I know that look. I had it myself once. Take my advice Max; let it go. It's much healthier that way and you never know what else can happen because she's not here. Hopefully, we'll both see that someday. Good night, Max."

Lisa began to walk back toward the entrance to the Daedalus.

"Lisa?" Max called, causing her to pause and turn back. "I heard they found her flight recorder. I was wondering, could I be there when they look at it? She was too good to just have been shot down. I need to know what happened."

Lisa nodded. "They have a few of them, but Allan's is scheduled for oh-nine-hundred tomorrow."

"Thanks. I guess that's two I owe you, huh?"

"Let's call it even. It's among friends, after all."

"Friends?"

"Well, yeah. A guy like you needs friends besides fighter pilot jocks, after all."

"Even friends that can demote you?"

Lisa laughed again. "You better believe it." She seemed to glance unconsciously toward the bridge. There was a light just around toward the back that had a bright light on. "Oh, he's still at it!"

"Who?"

"The Captain. He's putting together his report for the brass. The man doesn't sleep, I swear."

Max straightened his uniform jacket and took a deep breath just outside the door. He hoped he didn't look too awful after the sleepless night. That morning had been the first time he had needed coffee to wake up in his entire life. Somehow, he had a feeling it wasn't going to be the last.

He'd have to go out and get a pot, a grinder, some filters...

Gathering himself, he knocked on the door crisply and waited. Ensign Vanessa Leeds answered the door.

"Lieutenant Sterling!" She exclaimed. "Can I help you?"

"Is this where they're evaluating the recovered flight recorders?" Max asked.

"Well, yes, but-"

"Can I talk to Captain Gloval? Please, it's important."

"Well, all right. Just a moment." Vanessa reentered the room and shortly after, Gloval returned and regarded Max. The pilot straightened to attention and saluted.

"Captain Gloval," said Max as the captain returned the salute, "Lieutenant Sterling requesting permission to join the group evaluating Lieutenant Allan's flight recorder, sir."

Gloval wordlessly regarded Max for several moments. Behind him, Max could see a group that consisted of Lisa, Vanessa, Caroline, Roy, and Ariana's wing-mates.

Gloval nodded with a grunt. "Permission granted, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, Captain," Max said as Gloval led the way back into the room.

"Don't thank me, Lieutenant," Gloval responded, "this may bring up demons you never considered. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

The two of them joined the group which surrounded a small table of sorts that had a translucent surface. From the pillar like stand on which it stood trailed two wires. Those were hooked to a small, charred piece of electronic equipment via some alligator clips. Max found himself looking across the table at Lisa who winked his way, semi-conspiratorially. He gave a slight nod back in thanks.

"Please continue, Mr. Fokker," Gloval commanded.

"Yes, sir," agreed Roy, "As I was saying, Mrs. Allan. The projecbeam table will project Ariana's fighter as it was in space, according to the information the flight recorder gathered. The voices we'll be hearing will be hers, control's, and the voices of the rest of Skull Squadron. Are you ready?"

Caroline nodded, solemnly.

"All right then," said Gloval, "we can stop it any time you want us to. Vanessa, please begin."

Vanessa stepped up to the table a punched in a few controls. Almost immediately, the table top began to glow and a hologram of Ariana's Green Lantern materialized into existence.

"What time index, sir?" Vanessa asked.

"Two minutes before it went off line."

Two minutes, Max thought to himself, a lot happens two minutes out there. Do we really need that much? But he saw that Gloval and Fokker were all for it, so he remained silent on the issue and cast his glance to Caroline as the hologram began its recount. She was staring transfixed on the mini-mecha, watching it go through its paces like a pro.

Miller's voice was presently issuing forth from the speakers. "Ari! There's a pod tumbling for the ship at four!"

"Don't worry. I got it," Ari's voice was answering a moment later as her mecha was transforming to Battloid and thrusting in toward a vertical plane that represented the SDF-1. "Max!" everyone heard the almost inaudible breath that escaped from her and all eyes turned to him for just a moment. Max simply became transfixed on the holo.

A pod was hurtling toward what represented the SDF-1 and the green Veritech swooped in and grabbed its leg. It swung it around in a few circles before letting it go into space. They heard Ari laugh over the speakers. "Relax, Vermilion boys. Seems the lucky SOB's are scared kittens after all, you guys." Ari's VT paused to toss off a salute to the SDF-1 before thrustering away while her wing-mates laughed.

Max blanched.

"Cerulean Team," Lisa's voice came through, "heavy fighting in sector three. Can you assist?"

"Roger that, SDF-1 control," Ari responded, "you heard the lass, boys. Change course, Cerulean Team." She promptly switched to fighter mode and sped off.

"Atmospheric contact," Claudia's voice informed them.

"I don't like those others," Ari said, "why aren't they fighting?"

"Do you think they're waiting for a good moment, Lieutenant?" Reese asked.

"Maybe. Just keep an eye out. Bogies at three high! Fox three!" Ari's fighter let off a missile that holed an incoming pod straight through.

"Fox three!" Miller agreed.

"Fox three!" Reese echoed.

"Bloody Hell! Watch that group at eleven low!" Ariana ordered. "I'm going in!" Her Veritech switched to Guardian and swooped down toward a hazy sphere that was to represent Earth's atmosphere.

"Lieutenant! It's too close to the envelope!" Reese warned. "You're too steep!"

"I know! The boys below will have to pick it up. Cerulean One to Maize One. Bogies heading your way."

"Roger that, Cerulean One. We got 'em."

Ari's Veritech began to pull up and back out of the atmosphere. At just that moment, a pod came straight at her, firing. "Smeg!" She exclaimed. "Fox two!" A missile launched from her racks and impacted the pod dead on, blowing it to shrapnel which streaked past her and began to burn up in the atmosphere. A piece of it was flailing wildly and violently scraped against Ari's cockpit fuselage, tearing a rent in the metal on her port side. "Bloody Hell!"

"You all right, Lieutenant?" Reese inquired.

"Positive, Cerulean Three, I-" A glow began to build near the tear. "Shit! It got my oxygen tank!"

"Eject!" Miller barked. "We'll pick you up!"

The holo image abruptly became a flurry of light and sound; the Veritech blew, a loud scream of terror could be heard through the speakers.

Then, it all stopped. The image de-rezed and the radio faded to static.

Max flinched at the explosion, unaware how absorbed in the simulation he had been. He found himself simply staring at the blank space that had been showing the hologram.

"That's all, sir," Vanessa reported a moment later.

"Lisa?" Gloval inquired.

"Instruments indicated a fire broke out in the oxygen supply tank," stated Lisa, "it caused the explosion."

Caroline had her head in her hands, shedding silent tears. "A fire," she sobbed at last, "it wasn't even the enemy. It was a fire. At least with John it was..." She broke down and started crying in earnest.

Max found himself moving to her side and putting an arm around her shoulders.

"We were almost home," Caroline continued, "why now? Why now?"

"She is home," Max mused quietly.

"Lieutenant?" Gloval inquired.

"Oh, uh, nothing, sir," Max responded, distancing himself from Caroline again as Lisa moved in to escort her out of the room. "Uh, wait." Max reached into his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper he had scribbled on last night; the one with the lyrics to that hymn.

"Here," he said, pressing it into Caroline's hand. The two women exited a moment later. Max watched them go for a few seconds.

"Lieutenant," Gloval asserted, "you're dismissed."

"Yes, sir," Max responded, saluting, then leaving the room with Vanessa close behind.

"What did that gain you?" she asked of him once they were in the hall.

"Not much," Max admitted, solemnly, "I just felt like I should be there."

Max envied Rick. The Lieutenant Commander had managed to swing a trip off the ship in the form of escorting Minmei home to Yokohama, Japan to see her parents.

Max wanted more than anything to leave the ship behind, if only for a few hours. Rick and Ben especially were giving Max a rather wide berth and it was getting so that he couldn't stand the sympathetic looks in both their eyes.
Maybe that was the reason he was spending so much time alone.

But Rick and Minmei deserved a sendoff, so he and Ben were up in their VT's and chasing Rick's tail through the sky. The two jocks had made the excuse that neither had been up for almost a week and had never flown in an atmosphere, too boot, and needed a bit of practice. Such an excuse was hogwash, considering that the Zentraedi ship had an atmosphere, but it got them up. The two of them went on the tac net and teased Rick a bit about how this was a date for him and Minmei, just before accelerating to mach one and racing out of sight before Rick could get off a counter-snipe.

Max and Ben put their new Veritechs through their paces, glad to be in the air again. Max liked the freedom in the cockpit the flightsuits for atmosphere gave him; no restricting faceplate or oxygen feed. He could do without the high collar, though.

Well, no accounting for taste.

Oddly enough, he felt as though a new beginning had occurred.

The SDF-1 was home.

Chapter Text

"In order to understand the decisions made by many politicians, one must understand the Human nature's me-first attitude. Most people, especially of that time, ran around the world concerned only with their own happiness."
"The Greeks defined happiness as the exercise of vital powers along the lines of enlightened self-interest.
"Is it any wonder, then, that the members of the UEDC decided as they did in the case of the SDF-1? Quite simply stated, they decided to cover their own butts rather than deal with the real problem.
"Don't you just love Human nature?"
- Keiko Bragg, "Vital Powers: Earth, the Zentraedi, the UEDC and the SDF-1"

Max sat on a bench in Macross City park, just watching various people stroll by or hurry off to somewhere in particular. He was never quite a part of it all, yet he always seemed to be in the middle.

There he sat, still brooding getting more and more annoyed by the wide berth he was receiving from people, Rick and Ben in particular.

Try not to think about it, he told himself, just think about something else.

Presently, Max spotted a little boy and his mother peering into the window of a comic book store.

"Can I get that one mommy?" the boy asked.

"No, hon, I don't think you're old enough yet," his mother responded, grabbing his wrist and pulling him down the street. The two of them out of the way, Max could clearly see the comic book in question.
A copy of "Green Lantern."

"Oh," he moaned to no one specific, "that's not fair."

"I'll say it isn't!" Exclaimed a rather high-pitched voice behind him. "Four lovely young ladies like us without dates!"

Max nearly jumped and turned. Sammie Porter was leaning against the back of the bench along with Kim Young. Vanessa Leeds and Lisa Hayes were standing behind them.

"And on our lunch break, too!" Vanessa agreed.

"You look a little lonely, Lieutenant," stated Kim.

"How 'bout it, Max," Lisa ventured, "you up for Chinese?"

Max cracked a smile, looking up at all of them. "I think I'd better be," he said, "four lovely ladies like you, it's either go along with it or report for a long talk with the flight surgeon. Right?"

Lisa and the trio looked at each other and giggled as Max stood. Together, the five of them walked down the street and into the White Dragon.

Where else? Max thought.

The place was packed with people, not one empty table in the room. A fair number of the patrons seemed in a mood for a celebration, almost like a big family.

"Looks kind of crowded, doesn't it?" Kim mused.

And suddenly, someone was calling to them from a large roundtop table. Rick Hunter stood there, waiving his arms at them all alone at the table. It had previously been the only unoccupied one in the room. Max and the ladies wandered over.

At that moment, Max was faced with a problem; the guys were supposed to hold the ladies' chairs for them as they sat down. It was only polite. But how was he supposed to be in four places at once? Did it go by rank? Should he start with Lisa, then move on? The result was that he rushed around in a silly stupor as Rick said something or another about a case of good timing.

"Minmei's long-lost cousin, Kyle, was in Yokohama. And she wouldn't come back without him," Rick explained, "so it's a big reunion. Everybody in the neighborhood came in to see him."

"Gee, what a hunk!" Sammie gushed, her eyes aglaze and staring at Macross City's newest citizen. Doing likewise, Vanessa and Kim were quick to agree.

Lisa shifted her gaze to Kyle and seemed to go a little scarecrow. Max wondered just what it was that distracted her so about Kyle. He looked between the two for several seconds before taking off his glasses and cleaning them off on his napkin.

What was it about this guy?

"OH! WELL HE'S SURE GOOD LOOKING, ISN'T HE!" the trio chimed together, breaking Max's train of thought.

Maybe "Bridge Bunnies" isn't such a bad name for them, after all, Max mused putting his glasses back on and taking another look at Lynn-Kyle.

"Gee," Kim sighed, "Minmei looks so happy."

Rick made a face and seemed about to say something on the topic when Mayor Luan sauntered over to the group in a jovial mood. Campaigning as usual, he immediately took a shine to the RDFers, the ladies in particular.

"Well, well, well, Rick m'boy!" he exclaimed as though surprised to see them all. "So these are some of your friends, eh? Why don't you introduce me to the ladies, hmm?"

What am I, Mecha fodder? Max wondered to himself. I hate politics.

Rick was about to respond when Kyle came up to the table with Minmei latched on to his arm. Tall, long-haired, and graceful looking, Kyle looked every part the host. But Max caught something in his eye that seemed to indicate different. He couldn't quite pin it down, but...

"Hello, Mr. Mayor," he said politely, "glad to have you back on Earth. I'd like to introduce myself: my name is Lynn-Kyle. Welcome to my family's restaurant."

"Hi!" Minmei added cheerfully, still clinging to Kyle.

Slight pandemonium erupted just then as the Trio all started vying for Kyle's attention while introducing themselves. They all tried to talk over one another and they only got progressively louder.

Lisa, meanwhile, was still strangely quiet.

"Yeah, hi," Max mumbled, still trying to figure out what was behind those eyes.

"Well, Kyle," Luan stated heartily, "even if you don't like the army, you have to admit there are some lovely ladies in the military!" Everyone stared at Luan, daring him to elaborate. "Oh! Uh, did I say something perhaps I shouldn't have?" he asked, pouring on the innocence. "Well young people should get to know one another. 'Scuse me." He strolled off in another direction leaving an uncomfortable silence.

Was he smirking at something?

"Was the Mayor implying you have something against the service?" Sammie, ever so tactfully, piped up.

Kyle shook his head and allowed his black hair to waive this way and that. "It's not just the military. I don't like fighting of any kind."

"Oh really?" Sammie said dreamily.

"Fighting produces nothing!" Kyle declared. "It only results in devastation and destruction!"

So that was his story. Still, Max couldn't help but press the issue. There was something more, yet. "Are you saying that everyone in the service enjoys destroying things?" Max asked, directly.

"Well, I didn't join the Robotech Defense Forces because I like devastation and destruction," Rick agreed.

And, dreamy as they may have found Kyle, the ladies all agreed as well.

Finally sensing the tension, Minmei broke in on the conversation and suggested turning on a program she had taped earlier. She was met with approval all around and so it was done. The crowd in the White Dragon went wild in excitement. Fists were pounding on tables and feet were taping in short order.

And somehow, it all went straight to Hell from there.

Such luck he was having lately! Folded to God-knows-where on a Zentraedi ship, losing his best friend, and now breaking about twenty-thousand regs in a classic barroom brawl.

Max quickly proved his combat reflexes to be no fluke; his skills were as sharp as in a real battle and he was dodging and feinting by fractions of inches and milliseconds. A left hook there, a kidney punch there, and a couple of well placed pushes later, Max was leaning against a door frame and knuckling a bit of blood from a split lip.

"Hey Kyle," Rick said a ways off, "why don't you hand 'em a pamphlet!"

The nth generation Lynn was standing stalk still in the middle of the room, barely breathing heavily.

"You okay, Rick?" Max panted, rubbing an aching rib where someone had taken a chunk out of him. Rick nodded, slowly, seeming to check his teeth for holes. Max glanced over at Lisa and the Terrible Trio. Sammie plopped a particularly heavy looking stoneware plate back on the nearest still standing table and dusted her hands off triumphantly.

"Oh Kyle! I'm so proud of you!" Minmei gushed, throwing her arms around Kyle's neck. "Are you okay?"

The elder Lynn cousin nodded, grunting a soft "Mm hm" as a response.

" 'Okay'?" Rick asked, somewhat miffed.

Max found himself staring at Kyle with some interest and quite a bit of puzzlement. There was also a bit of animosity he would not recognize until later and would spend quite a bit of time trying to figure out. "They barely laid a hand on you," he hissed out.

One slightly pale looking former-combatant was just getting to his feet. "He's the best I've ever fought against," he said begrudgingly, staunching a blood flow from a broken nose. "That's the truth."

"Yeah," Max returned, "he's got moves I never saw before. It doesn't make sense." He moved toward Kyle. The pilot's everyday demeanor had vanished and the things that had already begun to make him a Robotech legend seemed oddly active, eager to be used.

It was not a temper. Far from it. It was more an instinct than anything else. The majority of the White Dragon patrons seemed to realize this and didn't get in the way. No one dared move.

"You're a pretty well-trained fighter for someone who doesn't like to fight," Max stated, level tone only adding to the tension.

Max and Kyle stood staring at one another for several moments, seeming to size the other up, analyzing weaknesses in case the ultimate slugfest erupted.

But it was idealistic Kyle that finally broke the stalemate. "It was just something that had to be done, I guess," he said, casting his eyes down, "I'm sorry." He looked up again, revealing a small trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.

Both Minmei and, curiously enough, Lisa were instantly in motion, babying Kyle with handkerchiefs. But Kyle refused Lisa's help on the basis that she was military.

Why did Lisa seem so hurt? Max briefly considered going over there and clocking Kyle one, regs be damned, but his rational mind kicked back in and he thought better of it.

He felt more than saw Rick come up behind him. "Is he for real or am I crazy?"

Rick shrugged. "If you're asking me, the answer is yes."

Oddly enough, they never heard anything about the brawl from any of the higher ups. Either there were just too many occurrences of the type around the SDF-1 after the announcement had been made that no one could leave or Lisa managed to intercept the reports. After the initial chaos settled, the days passed in the somber reassurances from SDF-1 staff that the restriction was only temporary.

Somehow, a battle had been slipped into the midst of those days. Max had finally witnessed the Deadalus Maneuver in action and was duly impressed. The right arm of the SDF-1 actually punched the enemy ship!

And then, promptly shot down Vermilion One.

Max stood on the opposite side of the plexi watching Rick's unconscious and bandaged form lay still with an almost deathlike pallor. The machinery he was hooked up to said that he was delirious, but Max could see that for himself. Every now and then, Rick's head or hand would twitch. But he remained in the unconscious state.

"Been on your feet a while?"

Max turned, startled, not having heard the person who had come up behind him. Lisa was approaching him and came to a stop next to him, also staring in at Rick.

"Ten, fifteen minutes, maybe," Max sighed.

"Try three hours. And that's just here. You haven't rested since the battle."

"How can I?"

"What?"

Max clomped a hand on his mouth, realizing what he had said out loud. "N-Nothing. Never mind. I guess I just haven't noticed the time, Commander."

"Well, I have. Go get some rest."

"What?"

"The RDF is short on pilots as it is. I don't need you falling over in the middle of a battle. So I'm making this an order, Max. Go get some rest."

Max found himself staring agape at Lisa. She never even looked at him, though, looking instead through the plexi, ever looking at Rick. Max cast a glance at his wingmate once more, then straightened to attention and snapped off a salute.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Dismissed."

Without another moment's hesitation, Max turned and exited the room.

"Don't worry," Lisa said after him, "it's my turn to play watchman anyhow."

What was he walking on? There didn't seem to be anything underneath him, but he wasn't falling. And he could move fast; very fast. The landscape around him went past so quickly that he could barely make out that it was landscape at all. But it was green and rich and extremely inviting. He wished he could reach it. But something was keeping him up. Away from it.

It's amazing, Old Blue! We can fly!

The landscape abruptly disappeared as though a think fog had decided to roll in just then. Instead, walking next to him was Ariana.

I should've let you keep the controls. You're a better pilot than I am.

The fog shattered, splintering into thousands upon thousands of tiny shards. In its place, the landscape returned. He looked back to it, seeing its inviting scene once again.

But she was falling. Ariana went toward the landscape as though whatever they had both been standing on had crumbled out from under her.

Yet, there was nothing he could do. Nothing but watch as she vanished into the vast green below. And suddenly, the landscape was not inviting at all.

And that was when he began to fall...

Max jerked awake just before he hit bottom. He sat up in bed trying to catch his breath and bring the rest of his body out of the adrenaline filled dream world.

As any newly-woken dreamer would, he glanced up at the clock. Not quite able to make out the hands he reached over to the nightstand to find his glasses. When his fingertips touched something metal he brought it up to his face to put it on.
He was met with the sight of a small silver locket dangling in front of him.

Max forgot about the clock. He knew what time it was anyway. It was that time in the middle of the night when you can't sleep because of all the things you worry about. The time when all the frightening thoughts you don't have time for during the day can finally surface and have their fun with your mind.

When you wonder what it will be like when you finally die.

Max pushed away all thoughts entirely and reached over for the light. He quickly opened the nearest drawer and shoved the locket inside, not wanting to deal with any of it. He found his glasses and put them on. He made his way into the small bathroom area and turned on the sink faucet. Once the water was warm he ran his hand under it and splashed some onto his face.

I told you I'd come back and haunt you.

Max's head popped up from the sink and he looked in the mirror. For a second, he thought he saw Ari standing behind him and he whipped his head around.

The room was empty save for him, and silent save for the sound of running water.

So much for sleep. It was time for some coffee. And noise. God, did he need noise! The radio would do nicely.

As he lost himself in Minmei's latest rendition of "Stage Fright," he wondered if this was supposed to be one of those times when a person needed a drink. He supposed it was, but, not being of drinking age, he didn't really know.

It was amazing that he still had two more years until he could find out.

"I dunno, Ben. I don't think I'm in the mood for this kinda thing."

Max stood outside the small storefront, looking up at the sign dubiously. The neon sign was bright and rather unfriendly to the eye but itself silent. Inside, in contrast, was rather dark and noisy.

The Close Encounters Arcade.

"Oh, c'mon, Max," Ben pleaded, pulling on Max's arm as he led the way inside, "it'll be fun. Besides, you need to relax, get your mind off of things."

"Look, I've asked you to drop it."

"What, you think I'm gonna, like I don't care? Get real. You and I are gonna play a game and have some fun even if you don't like it."

"Stubborn mule."

"Moping cave dweller. Now get over here."

Ben towed Max to the nearest two-player game, a finish-the-level-first game called Man-Kzin Wars, and deposited a coin. They both spent the next few minutes trying to wax the Humanoid cat-creatures that were trying to steal the priceless artifact.
Ben rethought after a few rounds and moved them both to a pair of one-players.

"Aesop's Beastary" Max mused aloud, handling the game control easily, "who comes up with these things?"

"Quit complaining and have fun, dang it!" Ben commanded having some trouble at his own game.

Max finished the game for the second time and leaned back, sighing and looking about the arcade. He spotted a game a little ways off named Veritechs! Two players were sitting at opposite ends of the game, each trying to blow the other VT hologram, blue or red, out of the air above the table.

"Hey Ben, wanna go a round on that one?" Max asked of his companion, chucking a thumb over his shoulder.

Ben gave him a look that asked if he had completely lost it.

"What? C'mon. It'll be fun. I'll only use my right hand."

"I'm supposed to be the one cheering up you, but you're not supposed to make me feel awful."

Max shrugged.

"Attention!" Sammie's voice blared over the intercom. "Lieutenants Ben Dixon and Max Sterling please report to Commander Fokker's office, immediately."

Max shot Ben a look. "What'd you do now?"

"That's my line, buddy boy," Ben responded.

"Don't look at me!"

"Ah, knock it off, and let's get up there."

"All right," Max said, picking up his token bin, "just let me cash this in, quick." Max left Ben standing next to their games as he made his way over to the change machine and dumped in his massive amount of tokens. He returned to a rather irate looking Ben.

"You're really excelling today, Max. Really excelling."

"Lieutenants Dixon and Sterling, reporting as ordered," Ben snapped off and he and Max entered Fokker's office, saluting.

"Oh cut the formalities," Roy told them, "this isn't anything official. I need your help with something. It's about Rick."

"Lieutenant Hunter?" Ben asked.

"What's the matter, I thought he was doing all right," said Max.

"Oh sure, physically, but emotionally," Roy trailed off and glanced off into space, "well, let's just say he could use a friend." He shifted his gaze to Max, completely unnoticed by Ben. "I'm sure we all could right about now."

Max almost gave a start, but stopped himself before Ben could notice his expression. He gave a lop-sided smile and nodded to Fokker, agreeing.

"So, what do you want us to do, Commander?" Ben asked.

"I'm going up to see him. I'd like you two to come along. One friend is helpful, three's a party!"

"I thought three was a crowd," Ben mumbled.

"Who's excelling today?" Max carped, eyes flat.

"Oh shut up."

Max wasn't sure what he had said to make Rick so mad. Was it something he had said at all? Should he have come? There was something about Rick's mood that Max couldn't put a finger on, but it really bothered him.

What did Rick have to feel sorry about, anyway? At least the one he cared about was still alive...

"How much longer am I going to have to haunt you?"

The voice from the bush had seemed so real, yet when Max turned to it, there was nothing there. Besides that, when had he gone to the park? The Peace Fountain was the only noise among the trees and bushes of Macross City, yet the window to the ocean outside seemed to have a presence about it.

A small lump in his pocket made its presence known and he reached in for it. His hand pulled out the silver locket once again. He pondered it for a moment before putting it between his hands to open it.

No. It wasn't right. There was something wrong.

Damn! He thought, shoving the locket back into its place. I've really gotta stop these aimless walks or I'll be one pilot short of a squadron pretty quick.

The ship-wide alarms chose that moment to begin blaring. So jolted from his reverie was Max that he nearly fell backward into the fountain.

"Red alert, red alert," Lisa's voice came over the intercom, "this is not a drill. All military personnel report for duty. All civilians to the shelters. We are under attack."

Max pushed all previous thoughts out of his head and broke into a run for the Prometheus, running into Ben along the way.

"What's going on?" the larger pilot asked.

"I don't know," Max admitted, "the Zentraedi decided that one day was a long enough break?"

"Ha ha," Ben responded, a flat note in his tone.

"Lieutenants Dixon and Sterling, stand by for Skull Leader," Lisa called over the comm. Max and Ben stopped dead in their tracks, having heard the order just as they got to the prep rooms.

"Stand by?" Ben inquired. "What for?"

"He's not keeping us out of the battle is he?" Max mused.

"Negative, men," Roy said, rushing through the door and almost bowling them over in the process, "on the contrary. You're my wing-men, since Rick's out of commission. Let's go! Get a move on!"

"Why am I scared?" Ben asked after a moment in which they both looked after the Skull Leader, blinking.

"If you're not, you're crazy," Max intoned, shrugging and following Roy.

Ben sighed and followed suit.

Max's eyes were sucked back into his head as his fighter was catapulted off the deck of the Prometheus and he formed up along side of Ben's.

"Fancy meetin' you here!" Ben quipped over the tac net.

"Eh, get out of the sky, Sunday flyer!" Max responded in kind.

Skull One was in the air shortly after and took the lead of Skull Squad's formation. Roy was giving out his usual spiel of instructions when they made visual contact with their enemy. They were the green Mecha they had only recently started seeing. The Humanoid but strangely troll-like bulbous power armor of the female division of Zentraedi. Fast and very maneuverable, the Quedlann Rau class Mecha posed a very large threat indeed.

Skull Squad broke up almost immediately, taking the Zentraedi fighters one-on-one at some points and with help on others. One of the Zentraedi was flying what Max could only guess to be the fastest Mecha he had ever seen in combat before. It jinked this way and that and nimbly avoided blasts from a great many Veritech pilots, never deviating from its path; a path heading straight for Max and the Blue Devil.

It was just as he was dodging the pilot's unforgiving volley that Max realized he had spent a great amount of time in awe of this Mecha he was now facing off with. He silently thanked the powers that be that he wasn't canned and resolved to pay better attention.

The Zentraedi came at him with a vengeance and it was all he could do to dodge the charge just in time. He turned as the Mecha went past him. It, too, turned back to him and opened up with a deafening volley from its weapon. Max went to Battleoid mode and answered the Zentraedi in kind. The two of them went winding through the atmosphere above the Pacific, putting all the other pilots from both sides to a great deal of shame.

Max was still pouring all of his concentration into the situation when Roy called him over the tac net.

"Max, pull back!" he ordered.

"What? Retreat? Why?"

"That bandit on your tail is trying too hard. Command wants to see what its angle is."

"Roger." Max pulled down the F lever and imaged a conversion back to fighter mode. As abruptly as he could manage, he broke off his engagement with the Zentraedi and sped toward the SDF-1.

Max checked his tac display and found the Quedlann Rau still hot on his heels.

"Shit!" He swore. "What's his beef?"

"I guess he isn't going to give up easy," Ben commented.

"No, really?" Max snapped back.

"Take it easy Max," Roy commanded, "get back to the rest of the squad so we can back you up. Safety in numbers. Trust me, I've been a target before."

"Right," Max agreed, pulling on the G lever, "dropping trou."

As soon as the Blue Devil had reconfigured to Guardian mode, Max poured on the foot thrusters and climbed vertically. Then he cut in his retros and dropped back behind the Zentraedi power armor. It turned quick as lightning and opened fire and Max responded with the same as he dodged the attacks.

Then, it stopped, turned, and sped toward the ship. Max paused his action and blinked. "What in the..." He spotted what the Zentraedi was after just as it left his firing range. A sea-sky rescue vehicle had just exited the SDF-1 and the Quedlann Rau was heading straight for the still open hatch. "Oh no you don't!" Max growled at the retreating Mecha and switched to fighter mode. He kicked in his after burners and chased after it.

He wasn't quite fast enough, though, and they both slowed to enter the ship. Quickly, Max changed to Battleoid, running after the Zentraedi. He managed to pull himself out of the Alpha state long enough to make certain the bridge knew of the invader.

"We know, Max," Lisa answered, "we're evacuating the city now. Can you stall it?"

"Stall it? Commander, this thing's the ultimate tag player!"

"Understood. Just do what you can."

"Roger."

As the two entered the city, Max skidded his Mecha to a halt on the first street he came to. He paused, looking around for the intruder, but seeing no sign of it.

"Vermilion 3, no joy," he stated into the tac net, "I've lost him. I'm patching into the Civil Defense band."

Max switched the radio frequency on the tac net. The voices of his squad mates disappeared in lieu of those of the panicked and seriously outclassed Civil Defense Centaurs. He listened for a moment, hoping to get some indication of where the Zentraedi had gone, but hearing mostly explosions and cries of fright.

"This is Theta Six," a voice came, "he's over here, on forty-third street near the hospital!"

Max was instantly in action, running the shortest distance to the indicated location that the Veritech was capable of running without doing any damage to the city. He rounded the corner off of Vine Road and skidded to a halt once again. The Civil Defense Mecha had retreated, leaving him alone, face-to-face, with the Quedlann Rau.

They both stopped, looking at each other for a moment before the Zentraedi raised its weapon. Max followed suit and stepped the Blue Devil forward several times.

"Get out," he snarled at the thing, all the while hearing a song from an old Tex Ritter movie in his head.

He continued to move forward, closer to the Zentraedi, weapon raised, and the other Mecha began to back off, taking a step backward.

All at once, the main hatch of the cargo bay opened. Both Mecha looked to it, but it was the Zentraedi one that finally took action and thrustered up and out.

Max allowed himself a small, almost sinister grin. "Lose your taste for combat, my friend?" He was about to follow it out and pursue it when Lisa contacted him again.

"Return to base, Vermilion Three," she ordered, "you've beaten him."

Blue Devil exited the cargo bay and Max looked after the retreating Zentraedi Mecha for a moment. He couldn't help but feel as though it were a cheap victory, as though some rule of engagement had been broken, although he couldn't see what.

"Not decisively."

Chapter Text

"It was a crazy time. The people formerly of Macross Island had lost everything in the fold to Plutospace, lost loved ones to the war or to accidents along the way back home, lost hope of ever making it, it seemed at times. Then, when we finally did make it back, we found out that we'd lost our planet as well.
"And me? Heck, losing one friend and almost losing another right then seemed pretty insignificant in the grand scheme of things. And maybe it sounds cheesy, but I didn't know where I was going. So, stress piled up and certain people got under my skin."

- Ambassador Maximillian Sterling (RDF) (ret.), as quoted in Lapstein's Interviews.

Fitfully, Max paced his quarters.

I won't start walking, I won't start walking, I won't start walking...

He had just heard about the death of Roy Fokker, pilot of Skull One and Rick's long time "big brother." He had also been the first to understand Max's motivation in joining the RDF. The loss had affected the entire squadron and the last thing any of the pilots needed was the tell-tale sign that something was wrong of Max Sterling aimlessly wandering the streets of Macross City.

He was beginning to find it cliché anyway.

Aw, screw it.

Max exited his quarters and aimlessly headed in the general direction of Macross City.

Here he was, at that big window once again. He found himself looking out at the blue ocean which disappeared into the curved horizon with no break in sight. He stood there as if contemplating the scene; there was something mesmerizing about the two shades of blue coming together.

He knew that she SDF-1 was moving, but one would never have been able to tell from the scene Max was looking at. The ocean remained unchanging from mile to mile as the ship drifted northeastward, toward North America.

North America. He'd been born there, nineteen years ago, in a place called Aimes, Iowa to James William and Allegra Philby Sterling. It was there that he had first heard of the SDF-1 when he was eight. It had been called The Visitor then, but the thing that Max could most vividly remember was that the annoying interruptions to his favorite cartoon shows had suddenly stopped. No more of that Nasetian and EBSIS stuff.

He seemed to remember something a certain pilot had once said to him while next to this window.

So, you're from Iowa, you only work in outer space.

He still didn't know what that meant. Perhaps the locket...

He pulled the thing out of his pocket again and thought about opening it. He might have if it hadn't have been for a sudden interruption.

"Hey Max! What'cha got there?"

Max shoved the locket back in his pocket as Ben came strolling up to him as if everything was right with the world.

"N-nothing," Max responded, "just something I found. It's nothing important."

Ben smiled a mischievous smile. "Did you get it from a girl or somethin'?"

"What's it to you!" Max shot back, feeling his cheeks growing hot.

Ben, having seen what Max could do in combat decided to do the only safe thing he could have done; he changed the subject. "You hear that North American Ontario Quadrant's been talkin' to the Captain? Word is they're gonna take the civilians."

"Really? That's great news."

"You sound a little less than enthused. Somethin' botherin' you?"

"No, I'm all right. It just occurs to me that the city will be leaving. We should get our licks in now, right?"

"Hey! You're right! I say we go for some steak!"

The two pilots found Rick in the hanger bay, doing some maintenance on Skull One. Rick had been assigned the fighter as well as command of Skull Squadron; he had become the replacement of his long time friend and "big brother."

Rick, too, seemed to be in a contemplative mood as they approached him and with good reason. Max could sense the presence of the Lieutenant Commander who had previously flown the craft; it was hanging in the air, almost palpable. A few words were exchanged about the fact that Rick was to fly the Mecha and he seemed less than happy about it.

Jovially, and trying to push aside feelings on the matter, Max told Rick of the news about Macross City as the Lieutenant closed the panel he was working inside.

"So how's about we get a jump on the celebration?" Ben added. "We could hit Macross for some food, drink, whatever else comes along."

"You could use the recreation, Lieutenant," Max added, quickly. He almost added that they both could but decided against it. Rick cast him a slightly sharp look at the invocation of his rank, but said nothing. The look quickly vanished as Rick made up his mind.

"It sounds good, guys," he said, "in fact, it'll be my treat."

"Well, how 'bout that, Max?" Ben beamed, moving between his two squad mates and nearly head locking both of them as he put an arm around one shoulder of each, "doesn't that sound like something the new pilot of Skull One would do? C'mon, let's get goin' before he changes his mind."

Ben pulled the two smaller pilots out of the hanger bay and Rick seemed to struggle, trying to cast one last glance at the silent Mecha behind them.

The Kindest Cut was the best steak house in Macross City, bar none. Any and every meat lover in the city came there for the best filet mignon, top sirloin, and steak sandwiches and the three pilots of Vermilion Team were no exception. As they entered, Ben directed them to the table closest to the grills he could find, explaining it was better to be "close to the action." However being that close to the grills had the disadvantage of being particularly smokey. While Ben took in the sights, sounds, smells, and vaporized fat, Rick and Max were left with a queasy feeling that caused them to order smaller portions than they might have otherwise.

"Here you are, mister," said the chef to Ben, placing practically a whole side of beef in front of him, "one giant top sirloin, medium rare."

"Thanks a lot pal," said Ben, pulling the cutting board toward him like someone who hadn't eaten in three years, "does this smell great or what?"

"It... looks like a lot to eat," Max stated tentatively, eyes wide in disbelief as to how one person could down the whole thing. He had to admit that he was getting hungry though.

Ben began to ravenously dig into the hunk of meat surrounded by onions and mushrooms. He impaled a piece on the end of his fork and waved it in the air. "I'm so hungry I might order another one."

Max and Rick both stared at Ben, blinking several times, and Rick seemed to wonder about the price tag of such an endeavor.

However, just as Ben had the piece of meat an inch away from his open mouth, the city-wide PA began to blare.

"Attention all fighter pilots. Red alert. Red alert. This is not a drill..."

Ben shoved the one piece of meat in his mouth anyway as Rick and Max got up and made their way toward the door.

"Hey, Ben, move out!" Rick called.

The larger pilot reluctantly rose from his seat and cast one last glance at his meal. "Don't move," he told it, "I'll be back."

Max was pushed back in his seat as his Veritech was launched off the deck of the Prometheus in fighter mode. He circled around allowing his wing-mates to be hurled off the deck as well then joined Rick's formation as Skull One came up. He had taken the port side, Ben the starboard, as the formation flew out over the city of the North American Ontario Quadrant.

The western part of the sky was dotted with small orange explosions already, each small blossom serving as a grim reminder that a life had suddenly been snuffed out.

Max swooped and swerved through the sky, dodging enemy fire and dishing out a fare share of his own as he, Rick, and Ben broke formation and joined the fray. He switched to Battleoid in order to better defend his piece of the sky, never moving, counting on his boosters to keep him aloft. Three Zentraedi pods seemed to recognize his skill and decided to attack at once, from a few different angles. Quick decisions had to be made by the pilot and even quicker actions had to be taken by the Veritech; actions that were just outside its ability. Max swung around, gatling blazing, and managed to take down the first two to come along, but the third clipped him and went on in the direction it had approached, preparing for a second strike. Within the blink of an eye, Max shook off the jolt and turned his Mecha once again, taking the third Battle pod out.

He took quick stock of his situation and found no serious damage to the craft. It was just then that Rick ordered he and Max out of the arena.

"The Zentraedi have jammed the RADAR on the ship," Rick explained, "we need some recon around here."

"Roger," Ben responded.

"Roger that," Max added, switching to Fighter mode and forming up on Rick's wing.

The three Veritechs flew around to the SDF-1's port side and began their sweep. Not getting anything on RADAR himself, Max turned his controls over to infrared. It only took a moment for the computer to register what he could see on the screen; five large blobs of heat blocking what should have been cold, empty sky.

"Lisa, are you monitoring?" Rick asked of the bridge officer.

"Affirmative," she answered, "Skull has visual on five alien cruisers; range, seventy miles, south-southeast, vector headings coming in now..."

Max didn't need to know the vector headings; draw a line from the incoming ships, through him, to the SDF-1 and there you had it. And God, were they coming in fast!

Rick was about to order Max and Ben to follow him back to the main battle, but cut himself short when he spotted a small unit of Quedlann Rau class Zentraedi Mecha. One, in particular, was moving very fast, very deliberately toward the SDF-1. The others spread out and defended it on its way in.

"Let's take 'em out, guys," Rick ordered.

"Roger," said Max.

"With pleasure," Ben cackled.

They charged the Zentraedi unit, guns blazing and drove a wedge into the formation. The powered armors scattered, then regrouped and came back in, answering the Veritechs' fire in kind. Inconceivably, the Quedlann Rau that was being protected sped up even more as the others moved in and kept the three RDF pilots sufficiently busy.

Max found himself fending off three of the enemy Mecha, each coming from a different direction. He opted for the better maneuverability of Battloid form and pulled down on the B lever. Imaging the motion through his Thinking Cap, he recovered like lightning and blasted one with his gun/cannon, square in the troll-like chest. Expertly, he evaded fire from the other two. Turning, he fired at one and cut his foot thrusters, falling out of the last one's line of fire. He came back up underneath it, firing all the while until it broke apart and exploded.

"Damn it," Max cursed, noticing the leader's sudden absence from the battle.

"Forget it, Max," Rick commanded, "they're bringing the new Barrier System on line now. It won't get through."

The area around the SDF-1 was suddenly filled by an iridescent yellow-green glow. The immense techno-knight of a ship seemed to bathe in the light, floating there above the city like a misplaced Christmas ornament of some ridiculous scale.

Almost immediately, the Zentraedi opened fire, all at once, firing out so many missiles that the sky was filled with vapor trails. There were so many of them that is seemed as if a storm cloud had suddenly moved into the area. Max went to work, evading the ones coming his direction, but most of them went straight for the SDF-1 and its new shields.

Lisa ordered Rick and the two Vermilions to counterattack the Zentraedi ships, adding, as if it were necessary, a warning to Rick that the fate of everyone aboard the ship was in their hands. Who needed pressure?

All three pilots went to Guardian mode and descended on the enemy craft like hawks descending to catch prey. They landed in a wedge on the ship's hull and transformed to Battloid, Gatlings blazing as they moved toward the stern. They took out as many weapons ports and gun turrets as they could, but Max realized with a touch of despair that that still left four ships spewing death at the SDF-1.

Suddenly, radiation detectors went wild in Max's cockpit. He was about to tell Rick when he heard Lisa shouting over the tac net an order to evacuate the area. Rick echoed the order, switching to Guardian and Max and Ben followed suit. They took off and executed perfect about-faces, hurtling off the Zentraedi ship in the direction they had come.

The sound of the explosion was audible over the radio before it came to the ears of the three Veritech pilots. Max chanced a glance back at the ship and saw, to his horror, a bright white sphere of vaporizing death expanding from where the SDF-1 had been. He hit his afterburners, full on, and caught up to Rick's port side.

"Ben! Ben!" Rick cried.

"Behind you, Lieutenant!" Ben shouted in response.

"Hit your afterburner-now! Do you copy?"

Still another hazy spot in Max Sterling's memory was created in the moments that followed. He couldn't remember feeling any particular emotion; he simply remembered watching Ben's RADAR blip on his tac display fade out with morbid fascination. He was transfixed with the display for an indeterminate amount of time until Rick's summons finally registered.

"Max! Max, do you copy?"

"Yeah... copy," he found himself stating, flatly and emotionlessly.

The North American Ontario Quadrant withdrew their offer within minutes of the shock wave's dispersal. Despite the fact that the Earth had been scorched out to a distance of 25 kilometers in all directions from the SDF-1, they were able to make an official announcement rather quickly.

Such was bureaucracy.

The ready room of the Skull Squadron was an uncomfortable silence. The surviving pilots all moved about like ghosts that had returned from the edge of fate, having just escaped the triune jaws of the death dog, Cerberus.

Max was the most ghost-like of all, even to himself. Thoughts weren't even coming to his mind as he went through the much-practiced moves of setting all his gear ready for the next battle. He didn't even find it necessary to respond to Rick's inquiry of his well-being.

Silently, he left the ready room, feet taking over once again.

Max had run into Lisa in Macross City, doing a little off-duty shopping. She was sitting on a bench in the park, several filled bags resting on the ground near her, staring out at the vast sea of stars seemingly lost in thought.

There they were again, those stars. A constant reminder that the SDF-1 was again in space, a full load of civilians still in its vast cargo hold.

"Hey there, Commander," Max greeted, "looks like you found one of my favorite spots."

Lisa looked up, startled, then smiled wanly. "Oh, hello Max."

"Mind if I join ya'?"

"Go ahead. It is a bit a of a lonely view."

Max snorted a bitter laugh. "I think that's why I end up here so much. So, I hear you're leaving for Alaska tomorrow?"

"Yeah," she sighed, "I'd rather stay here, though. My father is liable to keep me under lock and key, down there. But I might be able to convince him to let the SDF-1 back on Earth."

"Well, the tac net's not gonna be the same without ya'. Sammie had Elkins doing acrobatics like you wouldn't believe, last time."

"She'll get used to it. Elkins, one of your guys, right, Second Lieutenant?"

"You know, I never dreamed I'd be in command of Vermilion team. It was always Dixon and Sterling under Hunter. Now it's Elkins and Rossburg under Sterling. It feels bizarre."

"When did you talk to Rick last, anyway?"

Max gave pause at Lisa's question. He looked at her a blinked several times as if asking her to elaborate.

"You guys were inseparable not too long ago, but ever since the North American Ontario Quadrant-"

"We've seen each other since then, what do you mean?"

"How many times?"

There was a long pause.

"I dunno, two maybe three times."

"But, it's been almost a month, and-"

They were interrupted by the sounds of a paper bag ripping, followed by several metallic thuds and a bunch of swearing. Max and Lisa turned to look and found Lynn-Kyle stooped in the middle of the sidewalk, picking up cans of groceries and trying his best to put them in something he could carry them in, the bag having ripped open on the bottom.

Before Max even realized what was happening, Lisa was up and heading Kyle's way. "Here, let me help you with that," she said, stooping down to pick up a few cans.

Kyle grabbed the first can she picked up out of her hand as if her touch would infect it. "I don't take help from warmongers."

"I was just trying to-"

"I don't want any help from any of you people."

"But, I-"

"Apologize."

The last word had come as a command from behind Kyle. Slowly, almost menacingly, the self-proclaimed pacifist rose and turned to face a vary irate looking Max. "What?"

"You heard me." Max's eyes were cold, the cold he only allowed to show during battle.

"You expect me to take orders from you, Lieutenant Sterling?" Kyle asked, incredulously. "Does it look like I'm wearing that uniform?"

"Apologize to the lady."

"If you ask me, you're the ones who should apologize, to all of Macross City for dragging them into all of this."

"I didn't ask you."

Kyle snorted, a tone that indicated disgust. "That's quite obvious. I don't get you, Sterling. Of all people, why are you in the Robotech Defense Force. You lost your entire family to this madness, after all." Kyle turned to leave, his arms full of soup cans, but Max clamped a hand down on his shoulder.

"I said, apologize."

"Let go of, me!" Kyle growled, turning on Max, allowing his cans to fall to the ground once again, and knocked Max's hand off his shoulder. Acting on some as yet unconquered instinct, he followed through with a fist.

Max caught Kyle's fist in his own hand, still staring that cold stare of his battle persona. They both stood there, like that, for several moments, daring the other to make the next move.

"That's enough, Lieutenant," said Lisa, grabbing Max's free hand and pulling, "he's entitled to his own opinion. Let's go."

Lisa's pull broke the stalemate between the two men and Max allowed himself to be led away from Kyle. The later, however, didn't seem content with the interruption of their standoff of wit.

"Everyone knows about you, Sterling," Kyle called after them, "the orphan of the RDF who turned around and got his revenge by doing the same thing to the enemy."

That stopped Max in his tracks as if instantaneously growing roots had suddenly sprouted from his feet. He clamped his hand into a fist so hard that Lisa had to let go or risk breaking a finger. He turned and faced Kyle once more, eyes cold and staring.

"Revenge?" he asked. "You think that's what this is about?" He took a few slow steps toward Kyle, Lisa only looking on, waiting for the worst. "My family died the day the Zentraedi came. Where were you? I've lost some of my best friends to the battles that go on out there. Where were you? I'll tell you where. Safe, just like the rest of the people of Macross City. I fight so that they don't have to. I fight so that the other people on this ship don't have to feel what I felt the day the SDF-1 left Earth." He continued forward until he had just passed Kyle. "It has nothing to do with revenge."

Calmly, without another word, he continued on and left Kyle to contemplate his words and Lisa to play the diplomat. His fist was still clenched tight, digging his fingernails into his palm.

He hardly cared at the moment.

Lisa took a few step in his direction, intending to follow, but decided against it. She turned to Kyle with an apologetic look. "Boy, did you pick the wrong topic to dredge up."

Without so much as a word, Kyle gathered up his remaining groceries and took his leave. Lisa payed little attention to his departure, instead watching Max disappear around a corner.

In a twist of fate, quite the coincidence, seeing as how Lisa had just mentioned him to Max, it was Rick who found him next. Max had retreated to one of the upper levels of the cargo hold, where he could look down at Macross City as it got ready to go to sleep for the night.

"Hey, Max," Rick said, approaching him, "heard you almost got into it with Kyle."

Max checked his watch. It had only been a half an hour since he had run into the elder Lynn cousin. "Wow, word travels fast," he said, somewhat bitterly.

"Yeah, and it said you two nearly came to blows. What's the deal, Max?"

"Nothin's the deal, he pissed me off. That's all."

Rick blinked at him, a rather confused expression on his face. He had only known Max for about a year, now. But in that time he had come to notice that Max's shipside persona was almost a complete, polar opposite of the one he put on in battle. It was almost as if stepping through the door of the hanger bay transformed the blue haired pilot either way, but the two never seemed to mix.

Frankly, it terrified Rick that he didn't know which he was talking to now.

"Hey, you all right? You seem a little-"

"I'm fine."

There was a long pause between them. Slowly, as if expecting Max to turn into a giant monster and snap off his head in one bite, Rick joined him in leaning on the railing that was along the edge of the deck. He directed his gaze to the lower level as well, looking up only once in order to possibly figure out what was behind those bespectacled eyes that were somehow frightening.

"Guess we haven't talked much, lately," stated Rick.

No answer seemed forthcoming.

"Guess we've both been kinda busy since Ben died," he continued.

Another long pause.

"So, have you talked to anyone-"

"No."

Rick turned back to Max, an annoyed expression. "Why the hell not? He wouldn't want you to keep it in, you know."

"I'm not keeping anything in," Max practically snapped at Rick, turning to him. The look in his eye caused Rick to take a step back.

Another long pause as they regarded one another ensued until Max finally turned away and started walking again.

"I'm not keeping anything in because I don't have anything left."

That said, he left Rick alone without another word.

"He was my friend too, ya' know!" Rick called after him before leaving, himself.

Neither of them had known it, but a certain set of ears had been listening on the opposite turn of a corner. She definitely didn't like what she had heard, seeing as how the two men were two of the ranking officers in the Veritech Squadron. Having them at each others' throats would be bad for moral. Not to mention for them.

It was time for Claudia Grant to intervene.

It was too damn early in the morning!

If Max was anything, he certainly wasn't a morning person. He had hoped that such early hours as oh-four-hundred would be finished by the end of flight school. All those early simulator runs and training flights with...

He stopped that train of thought as soon as he realized where it was headed. What had been the point to this mental griping again? Oh yeah. Early hours.

God, he needed coffee.

His mission to escort Lisa's shuttle to Earth wasn't until oh-seven-hundred. Yet, she had a note waiting for him on the door of his quarters the night before. He was to report to the mess hall at the extremely early... no, make that ungodly hour of oh-four-freaking-hundred.

Coffee. Where the Hell was the damn coffee?

Max found the small can he had been seeking, opened it up, a spoon in hand ready to scoop out some of the most precious granules. The lid was coming off exceptionally hard that morning, and he had to work at it a bit before it finally gave and popped off.
Just his luck. Empty. He had forgotten. It was his grocery shopping night.

Desperate for something that would wake him up enough to function, he reached for the sugar bowl, still holding that eager spoon. He dumped a few scoops into a glass of water and downed it, hoping it would create enough of a sugar jolt to keep him awake on only four hours of sleep.

He was out the door shortly; next stop, the mess hall. At least, that's what he remembered the note saying. A few steps away from his closed door, he stopped and reached into his pocket for the note, just to make certain. He still had about fifteen minutes to get where he needed to be, so it wasn't going to be a problem.

Unfortunately, it had escaped his memory that quarter to four in the morning was the time when the EVE systems kicked in the city's artificial winds. A gust blew the small piece of paper right out of his hand and down the street a few doors. It was headed straight for the shower houses, Max realized. Slightly panicked, seeing as how the women's showers were on the windward side of the building, he ran after it.

He didn't quite make it in time, though , and could only watch as the note blew straight under the door and into the shower house, in a combination of several unlikely events.

Max stood there for a few moments, pondering what to do. Was there anyone inside? Or would it be safe to go in and get the piece of paper?

The door opened, answering both questions in very short order. Sammie stood in the doorway, a towel strategically wrapped around her, holding it with one hand and the note with the other. Feeling a very warm sensation in his face, Max turned around and coughed into his hand a couple of times. Behind him, Sammie grabbed his hand, shoved the slightly moist note into it, then went back into the shower house without so much as a word.

This day was definitely not starting out well.

Karita.

It was the first Zentraedi that he had a name for. He was a small one, aside from the fact that he had been Micronized, of course. Not what one would expect from a genetically engineered warrior, certainly. Which would explain his reluctance to fight with the Macross City hoodlums who had had him cornered only a few minutes ago. Max had heard of the defectors, just like anyone else had. The media had made a big fuss over them, especially that trio that seemed to have been their leaders.

In any case, they weren't the ones trying to kill him in battle any more. They just wanted out of it all. They wanted to lead a normal life, no fighting.

A lot like Max, really.

Which was probably why he had found himself giving Karita aid in the first place. There was a moment where he considered siding with the thugs, but no. That was hypocritical and definitely not his style. Sure, the Zentraedi were responsible for countless deaths, including...

But he wasn't going to think about that. The important thing was that there were Zentraedi who didn't want to fight. It was a start.

Maybe he wouldn't have to fight for much longer.

Max rushed into the nearly deserted mess hall, breathing to catch his breath and leaning on the door frame as he did. He was nearly ten minutes late, due to the dust up with the thugs in Macross City and figured Lisa would not be happy, seeing as how her note had the tone of a very stern order.

After catching his breath, he entered and looked around. To his dismay, he found no Commander Hayes present. However, sitting alone at a table, looking out the window at the motionless stars and sipping at a cup of coffee, was Claudia Grant. Worried that Lisa was mad, he approached Claudia's table.

"Lieutenant Commander, have you seen Commander Hayes?" he asked.

Claudia turned to him with a slightly amused smile. "Have a seat, Lieutenant," she said, "Lisa's not coming. You're date's with me."

"But... I thought that-"

"I know what you thought, hun, now siddown." Absently, Claudia checked her watch. "Well, at least you're only ten minutes late, unlike our other friend."

"Who's that, ma'am?" Max asked, cautiously sitting across the table from her.

Claudia laughed. "Now that is a secret. Good grief, Max, you look like you're facing a firing squad!"

"Um... Sorry?"

"Oh, brother!" Frustrated, Claudia rested her head in her hands and gave a tremendous sigh. It was in the midst of this lamentation that a shadow fell across the table as someone approached.

Max looked up and found Rick standing there, looking somewhat confused.

"Hey, Claudia, Lisa said that..." Rick trailed off upon noticing Max's presence. "Oh, I can come back later." He turned to leave, only to find Claudia's hand grabbing his and holding fast.

"I don't think so, fly boy," she said, "I called you both up here, with Lisa's help of course. Now sit down and listen."

Rick, although not the best judge of a woman's feelings, was no fool when it came to a woman's determination. He sure as Hell wasn't about to argue with Claudia in this case. Quietly, he sat in the third chair at the table, equal distances from both Max and Claudia.

"There now," she continued, "the way I see it, you two have two choices. One, you can talk over whatever is between you like normal people. Or, two, you can get up right here and now and slug it out for no reason. Either way, it's time for you to get whatever's bugging you out into the open so you'll both stop moping."

Max and Rick looked at each other.

"Do you know what she's talking about?" Rick asked.

"Nope," Max responded, shaking his head back and forth.

"Typical," Claudia fumed, "then let me help. Since Roy and Ben passed away, you have barely spoken to each other. Now, ever since Vermilion was formed, you guys have been inseparable, so what happened?"

Max and Rick looked at each other again, Claudia's point finally driving home. But, as one might have predicted, it was Max who looked away first, rising and going to stand at the mess hall's massive window.

"The rest of the VT pilots pretend the pilots killed in battle never even existed," he stated, "But I always remember. Jeff Machlis, Roy Fokker, Ben Dixon... Ariana Allan... Why am I always the one who has to remember? It's my turn to forget."

The next thing Max knew, Claudia was next to him, doing something he never would have expected.

She drew back a hand and smacked him across the face.

"How cold do you think the rest of the world is, Max?" she practically yelled. "I've got news for ya'! We all remember, even the other pilots! Even if we don't always show it!" She turned away and faced the window in order to hide her own tears. "Dammit... Roy and I were engaged to be married. Not a day goes by that I don't think about him."

He wasn't quite certain when it had formed itself, but Max relaxed a fist back into hand and stared at Claudia, somewhat agape.

"I... I didn't know."

Claudia took a deep breath and steadied herself. "There are others to apologize to," she said, started to walk out of the mess hall. "If you two will excuse me, I have oh-five-hundred duty." She exited, leaving Rick and Max to finish hashing out whatever they needed to.

After several long moments of silence, Rick joined Max in looking out the window.

"So, I hear your team is escorting Lisa's shuttle down to Earth."

"Yeah."

"Do me a favor, okay?"

"What's that?"

"Take care of her. I'm not in the mood to lose any more friends."

Max looked Rick evenly in the eye. "Me neither."

Rick nodded his approval. "Good."

They both turned back to the window and pondered various things for a few more moments before Rick dug into his pocket and produced a small photograph. "Here," he said, pushing it into Max's hand, "I found this with Ben's stuff. It was right next to the picture of his family. Really tells you how he felt about the people in it. I'll see ya' 'round." With that and nothing more, he exited out the same door that Claudia had.

Max stared after him for a bit before turning the picture over and looking at it. It was of three familiar Vermilion pilots on their first day as a team.

Max sighed.

"Sorry Ben. Guess I was a jack-ass, huh?"

Ducked in the shadow of the other door to the mess hall, Lisa Hayes smiled to herself, allowing a small, relieved sigh to escape.

"Mission accomplished," she whispered to herself.

Chapter Text

"The letters pile up, Vince dear, perhaps to be read by you someday or perhaps not, but today especially I have to set down how full my heart is – more so than at any time since Roy was killed.
"I heard Gloval murmuring something astounding while he was sitting in his command chair: "Capulets and Montagues." I thought he was going soft; heaven knows the rest of us have. But when I looked at the clipboard he had been studying, it was an intel rundown on books Miriya had screened from the Central Database while she was here – while she was hunting Max. Shakespeare was there, of course.
"I don't know what to think, except – damn it! We've got to change the ending this time!"

- Lt. Claudia Grant in a letter to her brother Vincent.

Damn alarm clock!

All Max wanted was some sleep; a descent amount of sleep. But every time the almighty decided to afford him any, along came the accursed alarm clock to jerk him out of the comforting land of dreams. Especially lately, it seemed.

For the fifth time that morning, he clamped his hand down on the offending appliance. It was his day off, so why the Hell had he set it? Through the haze afforded by the interval between snooze buttons, Max could not discern that all he had to do was turn the thing off. He lied in bed, staring at the digital display until he was falling asleep once again…

Nine minutes later, the alarm clock sprang to life once more.

Screw it, Max decided. Breakfast awaited down in the mess.

Breakfast? What breakfast? It all looked like some indescribable slop to him. Max had gone through the cafeteria line and had promptly lost his appetite. Maybe it was the fact that he was still half asleep, but everything looked as though it could only be described as "grey lumps with brown sauce." He opted for a simple cup of coffee instead.

Dumping a creamer and a packet of sugar into the cup, he wandered over to a table and sat. Spotting Rick at a table by himself, Max gave momentary thought to joining his team leader, but decided against it when he noticed Rick's brooding nature. He proceeded to another empty table and sipped on the hot coffee while dividing his attention between Rick and the view out the window.

Thirty minutes and half a cup of coffee later, Max again looked over to Rick while fiddling with his own cup. The lieutenant was simply sitting there, as though he were a statue.

He's been sitting there by himself for half an hour twiddling his spoon, and it's like his food isn't even there, Max reflected. He finally made a decision, left the rest of his coffee behind on the table and approached Rick.

"Lieutenant, it's too early to be depressed about this," he jumped right in, "I'm sure Commander Hayes will get back here, somehow."

Rick shot him a glare, then turned away from Max, still resting his chin on his hands.

You're an idiot, Max, Max thought to himself, generally, one says "hi, how are you this morning" or something to that effect. Jeez-us! Social skills, man!

"First of all," Rick snapped, "I'm not thinking about her, and secondly, what makes you think I'm depressed?"

Well, that about clinched it. The conversation was officially a train wreck from the get-go. It wasn't going to be going anywhere. In the ensuing silence that passed between them, Max went through his normal steps of mentally chiding himself, wondering why Rick was so snappy, and thinking of a way to change the topic.

"Maybe you need a little excitement – some distraction," he persisted, pulling Rick to his feet by the arm, "how about a game? I know just the place! Let's go!"

Rick's cold breakfast was promptly left behind.

They both rattled the game controls furiously. Rick kept making annoyed noises as he worked his way through the level. At one point, Max even heard him mumble something about the Fox being faster than a Zentraedi Tri-thruster. The blue-haired pilot continued working his own controls with ease until a flood of tokens poured out of the machine and into his bin.

"That's great!" he exclaimed. "I always make more than I can cart off."

"Well, you left me behind," Rick responded, still struggling with Aesop's Gauntlet.

At one point, Max had to pause the game and reach down to scoop up tokens that had over flown the bin. Rick paused his own game and gazed down at Max with a perturbed face.

"What?" Max asked, innocently.

They mutually decided to give it a rest.

Heading down the stairs to the lower level, Max carrying his own overflowing bin and Rick carrying his almost empty one, they went to go and cash in their tokens for vouchers on their next visit.

"Well, those things aren't Veritechs, that's for sure," Rick mumbled.

"I'll say," Max agreed, "but don't worry, it just takes a bit to get used to it. I'm sure you'll get the hang of it eventually if you…"

Max trailed off and stopped on the stairs. Rick looked as though he didn't really mind the pause in the light banter, but looked up to see what had caught his friend's attention. Max was staring straight ahead, to the middle of the room, with a semi-hazy look in his eyes.

"Oh, that girl!" Max exclaimed, still looking straight ahead. "Sitting at that game!"

Rick followed his gaze to the center of the room, to a table game that was called, simply, "Veritechs!" A young lady was sitting at it, the bin at her feet overflowing, working the controls as though she had been born to it. Her hair was dyed green and she wore an outfit that was common to the latest fashion; brown body suit with a bright yellow scarf tied around her neck.

"So?" Rick finally asked. "What about her?"

"Isn't she incredible?" Max bubbled. "I've been seeing her everywhere."

"Well, she is sort of attractive," Rick admitted.

Before Rick knew it, Max was rushing down the stairs toward the table game. "Maybe I can get her in a game with me!" he was saying as he went.

Vaguely noticing that Rick was sputtering a protest, Max stepped out onto the main floor of Close Encounters and approached the small group that had gathered. He pushed his way through and watched the young lady finish her current game, flawlessly. He went to the end of the table where she was sitting, his bin of tokens still in his hands. She seemed to glance up at him once, twice, very quickly, almost imperceptibly.

Finally, Max worked up his nerve to speak. "'Scuse, me," he said, "would you be interested in playing a game with me? From what I've seen, I think we'd be pretty equally matched. Don't you?"

She barely afforded a glance up at him, but seemed to reconsider, noticing his bin of tokens.

"You willing to bet all that?"

Max's breath caught in his throat and he had to struggle to make sure it didn't escape in a shout of glee. "Yes, I am!" he answered instead, placing his bin down next to hers. He scooted around to the other end of the table and sat down. "This is absolutely terrific!" he exclaimed. "I know we're gonna have a great game!" He popped in a token, called up the menu, and selected blue as his Veritech color. She seemed to perk up at his choice, for some odd reason. "How about starting with Level B? All right with you?"

"Fine," she stated, shrugging, acting so indifferent that one might have mistaken her for someone who really didn't care.

Max made the selection. "All right. Here we go."

He was completely calm, surprisingly enough. He decided that it had to do with the fact that he was playing a Veritech game, his specialty. Due to some twist of fate, he had been both blessed and cursed with what Doctor Lang had termed the Alpha Ability; that ability truly legendary pilots had to surrender themselves to their craft and become the thing they were flying.

The green-haired young lady was no slouch either, Max reflected as their two computer generated Veritechs fired at each other under the surface of the table. Even so, though, he managed to steal a glace up at her during the battle; she looked confused, even a little annoyed…

… but still deliriously beautiful…

Before he knew it, the round was over and the machine was indicating that he had won. He really wasn't sure whether or not he had meant to and noticed the particularly menacing look the woman gave him.

"Oops! Looks like I won, huh?" he said, putting on as embarrassed a look as he could muster under her gaze. "Wanna go on to level A?" He tossed a wink at her, hoping to disarm the look. It didn't seem to work and she regarded him coldly.

"Yes," she agreed, "let's go on to Level A. That should prove quite interesting."

Max wasn't entirely sure what the remark meant, but chose to disregard it. He decided it was a good sign that she hadn't gotten up and stalked straight out of the arcade. Popping in another token, he called up the menu again and selected Level A. This time, the whole table lit up at once and a holoprojection sprang out of it in a light blue hemisphere. Two miniature Veritechs, one blue, one red, were generated above the table. The crowd around them swelled and mutterings were silenced by the true gaming geeks.

The two Battloids began shooting back and forth immediately, jinking and dodging each others' fire, going to fighter mode, guardian, and back as their controllers decreed. Still, as intense as the simulated battle was, Max managed to steal another glance at the woman. She stared up at the two little Mecha, her eyes darting this way and that as they twisted over the table. She wore the most intense look Max had ever seen on a gamer before.

He looked back up at the two holograms and was suddenly overcome by a serious case of déjà vu and for some odd reason that Tex Ritter song forced its way into his head again.

He had really, honestly meant to lose to her, this time around. Maybe then she wouldn't think he was a heel. But something clicked in his mind and refused to let him lose. Max suddenly found himself in his Alpha State and before he could shake himself out of it, the little red Veritech had been blown into little pieces. He was finally able to snap out of it when the two holograms disappeared and were replaced by a projection of the word "Strong!" in large, friendly, blue letters.

He looked over to the woman at the other end of the table. She seemed exceedingly mystified and somehow very, very angry at the same time.

Someone smacked him on the back, hard and called his attention away from her.

"I dunno how you pulled that off buddy!" the guy was proclaiming.

"Aw there were a couple of tight spots in the middle and near the end," Max stated, " but all in all, it wasn't too tough."

The young lady, meanwhile, snapped to her feet and started marching out of the arcade, right past Max with an very indignant look on her features. The blue-haired pilot quickly forgot the fulfilling feeling of victory and started after her. He caught up with her and managed to catch her wrist.

"Wait!" he pleaded. "I've been wanting to speak to you for a long time. I think you're wonderful and I want to get to know you better. This is my only chance to get your name and phone number."

She started at his touch and looked up at him with cold eyes. "My name is Miriya," she snapped, "and I don't currently have a phone number."

Max stopped himself before he could sputter helplessly under her cold gaze. "Then would you meet me in the park this evening? By the Peace Fountain, nine o'clock?"

She stared hard at him again before looking away. "Oh, whatever you want! Just let me go!" Max let go, simply happy that she had continued her acknowledgement of his existence. "Thank you," she snapped before continuing out of the arcade.

Max literally had to catch his breath after he had watched her go. He became aware of a figure at his side and reasoned it to be Rick, who he had lost in the crowd earlier. "Isn't she something? Whew!"

The poor grass next to the Peace Fountain was being trampled down in a single, long, narrow oval. The same pair of feet had been over it way more then fifty times in the past half hour, repeating the motion. The grounds keeper of Macross City Park had passed by more than once, wearing quite the perturbed expression. He had finally given up a half hour after his shift had ended, figuring that the blue-haired and bespectacled young man wasn't going to be leaving any time soon.

Max checked his watch for the seventh time in two minutes.

"Jeez," he said to himself, "it's almost nine. I hope she's all right."

He paced some more and checked his watch again. As he did so, he noticed a small thread hanging off the end of his only sport jacket. He gave it an experimental tug and found that it only hung out further. Desperately, he tried to tuck it into the cuff, hoping it wouldn't be noticed.

He checked his watch again.

"I can't believe I asked her to meet me in the park," he muttered, "a girl. At night! She could get mugged or something!"

He paced some more… checked his watch…

"Maximilian, prepare for your doom!"

… Heard a death threat…

He turned and came face to face with Miriya, coming straight at him. The first thing he noticed was that it was, in fact, her. He began fumbling through a nervous greeting, his mind not registering the fact that the green-haired beauty was coming at him with knives. Those strangely given combat instincts kicked in once more and Max found himself dodging one of them that had been thrown.

"Uh…" was all he could manage after everything had finally slid into place in his head.

Miriya continued toward him, charging headlong, full throttle, a knife slashing through the air.

Max just barely managed to dodge it and he finally found his voice again. "Hey, are you crazy?"

She backed off for a moment, pulling still another knife out from its hiding place. "I am Quadrono Leader Miriya Parino!" She proclaimed. "Zentraedi Airforce!"

Max gulped, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet automatically. "There goes our first date." Every instinct he had told Max to counter attack, to stop her, take her down before she could do anything to him.

But he couldn't do it. Something inside him, deeper than combat instincts, was stopping him, keeping his feet rooted to the ground, refusing to allow him to throw a single punch at her.

Miriya, however, didn't seem to have any such limitations on her actions. She slashed at him again and again with the knife in her hand, a frighteningly murderous look in her eye.

"You're such a fool!" She howled. "Fight for your life!"

Max lost more ground, retreating from her slashing blade. "My life? But why attack me?"

She paused for a moment to regain an en garde stance, holding the knife straight out in front of her and pointing its tip at Max. "I will have my revenge."

Max found himself next to the tree in which Miriya's first knife had embedded itself. His hand moved toward the knife's hilt, ready to pull it out and use it if need be.

But again… that override kicked in. Max let go of the knife handle, slowly, almost unsure and unwillingly.

"I'm afraid I don't know what this is all about," he said to Miriya, everything finally making sense in the back of his mind. I'm in love with this Zentraedi… I wonder what the court-martial punishment is for falling in love with the enemy. "What do you mean revenge? If you're a Zentraedi, I can understand why we… why we have to fight. But why do you want revenge?"

She glared at him, still holding the knife in between them. "I… have… reasons." She charged him again, slashing through the air where he had only moments before been.

"Miriya, what'd I ever do to you?"

"You defeated me! And you don't even know who I am, do you?" Another slash cut the air between them. "I am the Zentraedi's greatest warrior and I will not be humiliated by a Human insect!"

And so they continued in this way for some time; Max confused and retreating, Miriya galvanized and attacking. Max lost ground in spades, his helpless fighting style in this case not affording him any ability to attack, only to defend. Finally, he toppled over, tripping over something that was protruding out of the ground. He was flat on his back, Miriya standing over him like a hunting cat over its pinned prey.

There was that Tex Ritter song again. Do not forsake me oh my darlin'…

"Now, it's over," she stated, evenly.

Odd that… that she took time to say that… she didn't take the chance to kill him right away…

On this our weddin' day…

Everything became a blur and Max suddenly found himself strangely detached from the scene. He was on his feet again, somehow, Miriya still shouting at him. He had a knife of his own, now, and he and Miriya were dueling it out as fencers.
Max's combat instincts had finally won out, taking control, leaving his confused mind to ponder the happenings.

Why… why did he suddenly find himself fighting her? Why was he able to? And why couldn't he seem to stop himself?

The haze in the world continued to surround Max and faded the world from its normal, clear hues, sounds, and actions. It was as if everything had slowed, even time itself.

What? What was this? Why was this important?

Why was it… important?

… Important…

It was important!

Time caught up with him and the world became clear once more. Max found himself staring Miriya in the eye, a single knife between them…

… his.

It was long moments before his voice was existent.

"I guess I win again."

There was a long pause between them.

"I've lost to you," said Miriya, simply. She sank to her knees and looked to the ground, defeated. "Kill me."

"What?"

"End my life. Do it now."

And the knife fell from Max's hand. He sank to the ground next to her and reached a hand out to lift her chin. "But I couldn't… you're so beautiful."

And suddenly they were both on their feet again, locked in an embrace and held in the grips of one another's kiss. They came apart and looked at each other, both somewhat lost, but realizing they were thinking the same thing. No word was spoken for a long time until Max finally found his nerve.

"Miriya, this is gonna sound crazy, but… will you marry me?"

"Yes, if you wish," she responded. Max felt his heart leap higher than it ever had before. Flying couldn't have given it a greater jump! "Maximilian… what's marry?"

That haze was back again.

Max was beginning to wish it would just go away, quite frankly. Not being able to remember important events very clearly was getting on his nerves. Not to mention it made things hard to explain. He sure as hell didn't know how he was going to explain this latest event.

Then don't.

The voice had come from all around him in the endless fog that had closed in from nowhere. Max wondered who it was addressing. Don't what?

Explain it. Don't explain it. Live with it.

The voice was familiar. Hurried, Max looked around for the voice, looking in every direction that he could think of. Not seeing the voice he began moving through the fog, searching.

He ran into someone and turned to them. It was Rick.

"Do you think this is going to make you forget her? Someone else can replace her?"

He seemed miffed for some reason.

Max didn't know why, but he was filled with a sudden urge to throw a punch at Rick. He found himself following through with it and couldn't entirely figure that one out either.

Rick faded back into the fog, Max's fist going through empty air.

Don't explain it.

The voice again. His feet were on the move once more, searching for it, not knowing where they were going. He wandered the fog aimlessly, still searching. Ever searching. A familiar silhouette formed out of the mist and Max continued to it. Red hair and green eyes met his gaze.

"Nothing needs to be explained… it's your soul. Now's the time."

Max jerked awake, sitting up in bed and breathing to catch his breath as though he'd been running and suddenly a light turned on from the side of the room. He turned to it and found Miriya, pulling on a shoe.

"Sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to wake you."

One of Max's hands automatically went to the space behind him on the bed. He found it, for some reason, inexplicably empty.

"N-no, it's okay," he stated, shaking off the last few effects of his dream, "I should be up anyway. I gotta catch Rick down in the mess… about what we talked about." The fact that she was dressed finally registered. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to see Captain Gloval," she stated, "I'm defecting… for real, officially."

"Miriya, we talked about this last night. The others-"

"Fought their way out to defect. Yes, I know."

"And you just came over here on a mission. How'd it look if you just went to him and said you had a change of heart?"

"Like I had a change of heart… or a finding of one, anyway." She winked at him.

Max's face got hot. "Yeah, see that's another thing…" He shook it off, clearing his throat. "I said I wanted to get Rick on board with this before we go to the Captain. Please? It would make me feel better and I think it would smooth things over a bit."

Miriya sighed. "Oh all right. But I've got something else to do."

"What's that?"

"I'm going to find Rico, Bron, and Konda, the ones who defected before. If I can get them to believe me-"

"It'll smooth things over, too. I get it. All right, I'll meet you in the mess in an hour, all right? Hopefully, I'll have Rick with us on this."

"All right." Miriya went over to him and planted a kiss on his lips. "I'll see you then, Domillian."

Without any further words, she left, closing the door behind her. Max finally got up and started getting ready for duty. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him.

" 'Domillian'?"

He'd have to ask her what that meant. Great… a language barrier. Fun fun fun…

He reached for his glasses on the night stand and found them non-existent. He pulled open the drawer in search of them and found Ariana's locket instead.

Now's the time.

Odd was the feeling. He knew that the time was right. There was no doubt in his mind that he had to open it, right then and there.

And so he did. And a small piece of paper fell out. Carefully unfolding it, he squinted and brought it closer to his face to read it.

"I knew you'd find her."

Mission accomplished! Rick was on board with Max on the issue. Miriya had greeted Max and Rick in the mess with news that Rico, Bron, and Konda were the same way. The bumps were smoothed over from every possible angle. All six were in Gloval's office now, Max and Miriya at the front of the group and the rest standing behind them.

"What in the Devil's name were you thinking, Sterling!?"

Well… almost all the bumps…

The group flinched at Gloval's roar, quite obviously directed almost completely at Max. For his part, Max jumped halfway to the ceiling, but managed to remain in his spot when every impulse was to get the hell out of the captain's office.

"I, um, ah… I c-can't say I…was, sir."

"That's obvious!"

"Yes, sir."

"Captain," Rick chimed in, "you can't really expect Max to just-"

"Have I asked for your input yet, Mister Hunter?"

"No, sir."

"Then, hold your tongue. I'm not done yet!"

"Yes, sir." Rick backed off and Gloval turned his gaze back to Max.

"You waited a day, Mister Sterling! An entire day! Do you have any idea how this is going to look to the general public?"

Max gulped. "Can I speak freely, sir?"

"No! I'll tell you how this is going to look! It's going to look as though the pilots of the RDF are more willing to… fraternize with the enemy than fight them! Macross City will be in an uproar over this! You should have come to me right away! Last night! Before anything else happened!"

"Yes, sir."

"What do you say to the people who say that?"

Max paused, not entirely certain Gloval had given him permission to speak yet.

"Now, you can speak."

"Yes, sir. Um…"

"Well? Out with it! How are you going to respond to the people who ask you how you can marry one of the people responsible for your own family's death!"

Max started, almost taking a step back. He still couldn't find the right words.

"That's not fair!" Bron protested.

"The Quadronos weren't even here at that point!" Rico agreed.

"That's not a fair question anyway!" Konda chimed.

"Be quiet!" Gloval thundered. "I want his answer."

There was a very long, uncomfortable pause. Frantically, his mind racing, Max searched for an excuse, an explanation, anything. No words came… nothing entered into his mind. The only thing that existed were Gloval's angry eyes staring at him.

A hand closed down on Max's shoulder and Max almost jumped again.

"He doesn't owe you an answer." It was Miriya who had finally spoken from Max's side, staring down Gloval with just as much hostility as he was showing. "You'll owe everyone else an answer if we're kept apart."

"I'm still waiting for Lieutenant Sterling's answer, miss. I suggest-"

"Does it look like I'm in your uniform? I could care less what you suggest! If you keep us apart, we'll go out that door and our next stop will be to one of your newspapers where we'll explain that you're the one keeping two people who love each other apart. You keep saying you want an end to the fighting? That's not going to happen as long as both you and Commander Breetai keep playing Capulets and Montegues until-"

"What did you call me?"

Max was panic stricken. He clamped his own hand down on Miriya's, desperately. "Miriya, don't-"

"Capulet or Montegue, Captain! Take your pick!"

Miriya and Gloval stared each other down for several long, agonizing seconds. Anyone in the room could have whipped out a knife and cut the tension in the room with it, right then and there. Even smothered it in ketchup and eaten it… chewing a lot.
Finally, Gloval turned away, a hand to his forehead as though a headache was forming in his temple. He took off his hat and slapped it down on the desk, giving a sigh. A hand on a hip, he turned back to Miriya.

"You just said the magic words," he said, "I'm granting you asylum, Miss Miriya. What you decide to do as a citizen of this ship… is hereby your own business."

The room gave a collective outburst of victory.

"Provided!" Gloval stopped the display of celebration rather abruptly, calling the attention back to him. "Provided that you give Intel a full rundown of everything you would have put into a report had you returned and completed your original mission."

Miriya nodded. "You'll have it tomorrow."

"Captain, you don't know how much this-"

"Sterling, just don't let it happen again."

"B-but wouldn't that be… kinda… yes, sir."

"Get out."

"Yes, sir," Max and Rick both chorused at once.

Rick led the way out of the room, the four Zentraedi following just after him.

"And Sterling!" Gloval called, just as Max was about to leave.

"Yes, sir?"

"Between you and me… make sure you keep her. You don't find women like her everywhere."

Max couldn't suppress his smile, not for the world.

"I know, sir."

The next few days were a high-speed jumble of actions, ceremonies, politicking, uproar, and support for Max and Miriya. At times, it seemed like a dream as Max looked back at it all; flowing, liquid, passing by like water drawn to the falls.

And of course, there was that old SDF-1 rumor and gossip mill. Reaction from both Macross City and the RDF crew was mixed, as one might expect. It was the good ones that were overwhelming, thankfully enough. However, it was the bad ones that burned into Max's mind and occupied a great deal of his thinking.

Max had been returning from a patrol mission when one such reaction manifested itself in the Skulls' ready room.

"Aw, give it a rest, Nick-o," came one voice as Max neared the corner, "love is love if it's in skin, scales, or feathers."

"Shut up, Akito! You know what I'm getting' at!"

"Yeah, I do, and I don't like where it's going."

"Nick-o's got a point, Akito. RDF'ers can't just marry the enemy! How do we know she's for real? And what will Sterling do if she turns?"

"You too, Al? You're not being reasonable."

"Aren't we? You wanna be Sterling's wing-mate when that happens?"

There was a long pause…

"You mean if that happens."

"It's only a matter of time before it does. The chick's a Zentraedi!"

Max chose that moment to round the corner. Nick-o had his back to the entrance, but both Akito and Al noticed his arrival right off. The two of them straightened up, uncomfortably as Max approached while Nick-o continued on his tirade.

"It's bred into her, she won't last a week!"

Al cleared his throat and Akito did the best he could to look as though he hadn't been a part of the conversation at all. Nick-o whirled around to face Max, quite obviously surprised that he was there.

Max leveled his gaze at Nick-o for a moment, then continued to his locker to stow his gear. He was about to close his locker when Nick-o spoke up again, clearing his throat.

"Hey Sterling, it's just talk man, ya' know?"

Max slammed his locker shut, staring wordlessly at Nick-o. He held his gaze for a moment, then left the ready room in a stunned silence.

And, as fast as it all flew by, one thing brought it all to a jerking halt. It figured that a marriage made in heaven couldn't be completely isolated from the cliché honeymoon in hell. Just as the reception was starting, just as Minmei was warming up for a solo, the alarms had sounded and a flurry of activity ensued.

Now, Max found himself in the cockpit of his Veritech once again. This time, though, Miriya was riding shotgun in the back seat, one of Ben Dixon's old helmets that Max had managed to save before they cleaned out his locker on her head.

Max didn't have time to ponder the irony of such a symbol, though, as the Zentraedi battle pods were heading Skull Squad's way in droves, shooting off gouts of fire as they came within range.

"Skull Squadron," Rick's voice came through the comm, "break formation but stay with your wing-men."

"Roger," was the chorused replay of the pilots, including Max.

The Veritechs all peeled off in different directions, for the most part staying in threesomes, firing off rounds as they did. The whole squadron broke into fighting, swooping, pouncing dogfights and it was quite soon that Max was doing the same. He got into it with one particularly agile pilot and swooped around the sky, trying to fix it in his sights. When he finally had it, he thumbed the trigger for the kill shot.

"No, wait!" Miriya exclaimed from the back seat. "Don't shoot!"

The pod was out of Max's sights before he could comprehend what Miriya had said.

"Huh? But they were right in my sights."

Miriya took over the controls, aptly maneuvering the Veritech and proving, once again, that she was no slouch as a Mecha pilot. She moved the Veritech through its paces until the auto targeting system locked on to the pod at one of the junctions between the legs and the main body.

"Now!"

Max fired off a shot, hitting the pod right where the target had been set. The pod jumbled around, wobbling as if out of control.

Max couldn't help but be impressed. A weak spot! One that wouldn't kill the occupant of the pod! And since Zentraedi appeared incapable of repairing their equipment, it was just as effective as destroying the pod altogether, in the long run. There was one thing that bugged him, though.

"But we could have lost him while we were trying for that shot."

"I don't want anyone else to be hurt in this war," she replied.

"But we don't want to jeopardize our own lives, right? Or the ship?"

"Remember what the captain said?"

Oh boy, did he! The beginning of Gloval's speech at the reception had had Max on the edge of his seat, just about ready to slug him one, rank be hanged. But the Captain had only led into the same point Miriya had made to him in his office. And it had been met with much praise… just before all hell broke loose once again.

"Max, it's time to do more than just talk," Miriya stated, "we must act. And now I've given you the key."

"Oh boy," Max sighed, "I could lose my bars for this. But you're right, though. We'll just have to give this a try."

Max took Blue Devil back into the battle arena with new vigor, aiming for the same spot over and over. A few of the pod pilots had caught on, but they were no match for Max's natural skills as a pilot.

"What in Heaven's name is going on in that plane?" Rick yelled over the tac net.

"Boss, I'm sorry those last few weren't kills…" Max began.

"Don't bull me, Max," Rick responded, "I think I understand."

And word spread throughout the Skulls of the weak spot. It became a sort for game for the Veritech pilots as the word spread. The fact that it wasn't so morbid as to speak of killing the pods' occupants for sport made it even fun. RDFers began vying with one another for who could make the most perfect shots. Space was soon littered with disabled and limply retreating Zentraedi pods. However, the fully operational ones still far outnumbered those, and they were closing in on the SDF-1.

And then, just as suddenly as it had all started, it stopped. All of the Zentraedi pods retreated back to their ships, many taking the disabled ones with them.

"I don't get it," said Max, "they almost had us."

Miriya stared at the retreating pods in silence. "I think… that things are changing."

"You wanna what?"

"Join the Skulls."

Max marveled at the sheer number of bombshells Miriya was capable of dropping, even when there were no weapons within twelve city blocks of her. Her latest had come as Max was just starting to show her around the kitchen, which proved to be an adventure in and of itself.

"I can do a lot of good, there, I think," she pressed on as Max stared at her, stirring their soup.

"Miriya, I'm really not sure if that's a good idea, just yet," he said, "there are… people in the Skulls that aren't too happy about us and-"

"What better way to convince them, Max? If I fight with you, as a pilot in the RDF… imagine the symbol for peace it would make."

Max sighed. "Fighting becoming a symbol of peace… Gloval's gonna have a stroke over this one."

"Yeah, he came pretty close. But he saw my point in the end."

"You talked to him about it all ready!?"

"Sure did, squadmate!" She winked at him.

Max's jaw dropped… just like Miriya's latest bombshell. Latest two, that is. He sighed and turned back to the soup, adding a bit of paprika to the mix. "Just… can you make some coffee? The mix is in that can over there."

"Sure," she responded.

Max tasted the soup again and decided it needed a bit more cumin. He added some and stirred it in, thinking about how strangely metaphorical the action was.

He couldn't seem to get away from those, for some reason.

"Max, why is it on fire? Is this another weird Human recipe?"

Max whirled around, leaving the spoon in the soup and found a growing tower of flames engulfing the coffeepot. His eyes went wide and he scrambled for the fire extinguisher. "Uh honey, get out of the way. I'll put it out." He fired the red cylinder off with the same accuracy as he fired off shots in his Mecha and the fire was out in very short order.

"What happened?"

"I just used that liquid there… the 'cooking oil.'"

"You cooked the coffeepot."

"I'm sorry… my word, this cooking stuff is complex!"

Miriya looked fetching in uniform. The RDF tailor had issued her one in a light lavender that complemented her eyes quite nicely and the green trim was almost a perfect match for her hair. She said something about how non-utilitarian a skirt was for a warrior, but she obeyed as it was standard women's issue.

Max pulled his own uniform jacket on.

"Any idea why they called us up there?" Miriya asked.

"Not a one," Max responded.

"Just seems so odd. They took us off of patrol duty at the last minute. Aren't the Captain and the rest of the command staff supposed to be talking with the Zentraedi?"

"Yeah, but when the Captain calls, you better go. So, let's get goin'."

They left their quarters and headed up to the executive offices near the bridge, having been summoned to the conference room. Once they'd arrived, Max pulled down on his uniform jacket, making sure he was presentable, and knocked on the door. Together, Max and Miriya entered the room.

"Reporting as ordered," Max said, snapping off a salute and looking around. Gloval was seated at the head of the conference table, a short, red-headed and dark-skinned man to his right.

The dark-skinned man rose, looking past Max to Miriya.

"Ah! Hello, Quadrono Leader!"

Miriya straightened into a Zentraedi salute. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't realize you were the emissary!"

"Huh?" Max sputtered, immensely confused.

Chapter Text

"When you are powerless
To sand-bag this Atlantic bulwark, faced
By the earth-shaker, green, unwearied, chaste
In his steel scales: ask for no Orphean lute
To pluck life back. The guns of the steeled fleet
Recoil and then repeat
The hoarse salute."

- Robert Lowell, "The Quaker Graveyard in Nantucket."

"Huh?"

It was all Max could seem to say in the face of this new person he and Miriya were now both looking straight at. He was a short fellow, almost a full head smaller than either Max or Miriya or anyone else in the room, for that matter. That fact didn't seem to be lost on him, either, as he looked about as though expecting to have been the tallest person in the room. He had large, round eyes that betrayed a certain amount of curiosity behind the show of propriety he was putting out.

More important than how he looked, though, was who he was. From Miriya's reaction, he had to be some sort of powerful person with the Zentraedi. Perhaps, and most probable, even a Micronized Zentraedi. Whoever he was, he had to be someone pretty scary for Miriya, of all people, to react the way she did. She had tightened her stance to a straight attention and seemed unwilling to waver from it in the slightest until this short, funny-looking little man told her differently.

However, he shrugged as if Miriya's acknowledgement of him weren't important. "I found your pairing ritual- marriage?- quite… provocative," he said, matter-of-factly, almost as though he had just reviewed a so-so movie.

Miriya sputtered somewhat as though searching for a proper response. "You are probably wondering why we did it."

"Yes, just as you are no doubt wondering what I am doing here." The awkward looking little man's eyes now fell on Max, vaguely criticizing, yet somehow also seemingly a little uncomfortable. "And this must be the male half of your pair."

Miriya, who had up until this point been standing straight and tall at attention suddenly shrank back from both Max and the newcomer. She blinked a few times, as though almost ashamed of herself. "Ah… that's right, sir."

Ouch… not exactly the most ringing of endorsements. Oh sure, she was just fine with this a few days ago, not a single reservation about it. Now was a little late to be getting cold feet, seeing as how it was a done deal.

And suddenly, Max had a revelation of sorts. It was suddenly very apparent how little he actually knew about his wife. Understandably, he was frustrated and this frustration manifested itself in the form of a sour mumble. "Gee, ya' don't sound too thrilled about it." This was, of course, in lieu of actually showing her what he meant when he told her he loved her.

But there were brass around and the little guy looked a smidge ill to begin with.

Rick entered just then and reported for duty and as they all took their seats around the conference table, he sent a whisper Max's direction. "Hey, you don't look so good."

Oh, how Max wanted to be able to strike a superior officer. Instead, he simply crossed his arms and slouched down in the seat a bit. He took this moment of shuffling around and minor reorganizing to lean over to Miriya and ask a question. "Mir, who is this guy, anyway?"

"Minister Exedore Formo," she whispered back, "T'sen Breetai Tul's second in command and the single most intelligent member of the Zentraedi race."

"He's got a stick up his butt," Max mumbled.

"I'm sorry?"

"Never mind."

Exedore suddenly gave an outburst, pointing to Rick and Max excitedly, practically jumping up and down. "That's it! The Micronization process must have affected my memory! You're two of the hostages from Dolza's flagship, aren't you?"

Well, the meeting was just full of "suddenlies." Max suddenly had a flash of that mission he and Rick had had with Lisa and Ben. He seemed to remember a whip of red hair shortly after bursting through a door on Breetai's ship. Could Exedore have been that Zentraedi?

"Does someone want to tell me what's going on here?" Rick asked. Apparently, he was having similar sentiments.

Exedore continued to rattle on excitedly, tracing out a circle on the floor as he paced. "This time, the circumstances are a bit different," he said, "but tell me: How did you and the others manage to escape? Was it some hidden Micronian power?"

Rick and Max glanced at each other, both seeing that the other was wondering if they should let the cat out of the bag. But, before Max could say that Exedore's people had fallen for the oldest trick in the book, Rick spoke up for the both of them.

"Uh, I guess you could say that."

Exedore sat down to puzzle over the Micronian secret and, for a moment, it seemed as though the meeting would settle down somewhat. However, Rico, Bron, and Konda, the three Zentraedi responsible for the "Minmei Rebellion," entered and everything hit the fan again. Max sighed, and so did Miriya and Rick on either side of him.

It was going to be one of those meetings…

Things settled down again following Exedore's reassurances that he was not aboard the SDF-1 to take back the Zentraedi defectors.

And, of course, there was his absolutely stirring rendition of Minmei's "Stage Fright." Max was going to have nightmares about that one.

And so, finally, it came to light that the higher-ups of the Zentraedi hierarchy believed that Minmei's singing was a sort of psychological weapon the crew of the SDF-1 had been using. It wasn't until Gloval called the charming singer and her perpetually irate (and pontificating) cousin, Kyle, to the meeting that Exedore finally understood the difference between a war-training film and a fictional movie.

With that finally cleared up, they were able to move on to the real issues at hand. The subject abruptly moved to something Exedore called Protoculture. Max had heard the term a few times in conjunction with Robotechnology, but he'd never known just what it was.

"Ah! But you've forgotten the Protoculture!" Exedore exclaimed. "The great genius of the Robotech Master's race, Zor, hid the secrets of Protoculture and its last manufacturing source in this vessel before he dispatched it here."

Okay, so now it was just getting downright confusing. Who in the hell was Zor?

Gloval keyed a commlink. "I think we're ready for Doctor Lang, now."

Lang entered the room and, from the look he was wearing, it was apparent that he had been listening in on the conversation. Max had met the Wizard of Robotechnology only a few times before and only in passing. Once, just after word of Max's skill in battle had gotten out, Lang strolled up to him in the hanger and asked to attach a small data-recording box to his fighter. A few battles later, he had showed up to remove it. Max never heard what came of that data and decided that he probably never would.

"We've heard Protoculture mentioned several times, Emissary," Lang said, "will you tell me now what it is?"

Exedore blinked at him. "You mean you still insist that you Micronians don't know?" He asked. "Protoculture is the most powerful energy source in the universe."

"I've been able to find nothing of that nature in this vessel," Lang replied, "and I've been searching ever since your fleet first arrived in the Solar System. But I believe I know what has happened. Will you come with me, please?" He stepped aside, inviting Exedore to leave the conference room with him for the moment. Gloval, too, stood and made his way across the room.

"Will you all kindly remain here, please," the captain ordered.

And the door closed behind the three as they left the room. After everyone who was left was finished looking at the door, puzzled, obviously out of the loop to varying degrees, they looked back to one another.

Now, here's the thing. Max, Miriya, and Rick were sitting directly across the table from Minmei and Kyle. Max was already irate and… well, Kyle didn't help matters.

"Is there something wrong, Max?" Miriya asked.

"Oh, I'm just peachy," Max bit back.

Across the way, Kyle smirked. "Marital problems already Sterling? That didn't take long."

Max's look of annoyance turned to a deep scowl he directed at Kyle. "What's it to you?"

"Kyle!" Minmei exclaimed. Rick cleared his throat.

Claudia, at the end of the table, was wondering what to do about the meeting's minutes. Rico, Bron, and Konda, still sitting at the end opposite Claudia still looked a little frightened. They kept staring at Miriya as though just waiting with terror for the tiger to spring and eat them.

"I'll tell you what it is to me, Sterling," Kyle bit back, "this whole situation with our enemy is ambiguous enough as it is and you're really not helping anything."

"I don't like the way that sentiment sounds. If you've got a statement to make, Lynn, then make it."

Minmei got to her feet and put both her hands on the table. "Both of you stop it, right now!" she commanded. "We're here to make peace with the Zentraedi. How can we do that if we're fighting among ourselves?"

Max and Kyle looked away from each other, both looking quite put out. The rest of the time they sat waiting for Gloval, Lang, and Exedore to return passed in a tense silence.

When the bigwigs finally did return, it was a whirlwind of a meeting. The Zentraedi had misunderstood Human culture in general, but no one could deny the power of Minmei's singing, Gloval wouldn't dream of it, they had a severely blushing actress, the Zentraedi had seen something like this before and it nearly wiped them out…

Wait… wiped them out? Hold on a second.

"How do you mean that?" Gloval asked, obviously having similar sentiments.

Exedore went on to explain the situation. Apparently, the Zentraedi weren't used to showing their emotions as freely as Humans. Their entire lives were geared toward creating the perfect soldier in every single member of their society. So, when they experienced a culture as open and free with emotions as the Humans were, and several of their people refused to fight, it was seen as a disease.

The solution; wipe it out.

It was at that moment that the call came in. It was patched directly from the Bridge. Reportedly, it was from Commander Breetai of the Zentraedi forces and he wished to speak with Exedore. The Micronized Zentraedi redhead obliged and there was a short exchange in the Zentraedi language. Max could have sworn he heard Miriya's breath catch in her throat.

Exedore slowly replaced the handset in the cradle before speaking. "Captain, you must prepare yourselves to escape this star system."

The entire room gave a collective gasp and Exedore's warning only served to confirm whatever it was that Miriya had suspected. Gloval remained calm, his face hardening.

"And leave the Earth defenseless?"

"Yes."

"Out of the question!" Gloval responded, partly horrified by what Exedore was suggesting. "We are sworn to defend our planet."

"Yes, I understand that," Exedore stated, "we Zentraedi would not act any differently. What's more, without your help, escape for us would be all but hopeless. The Protoculture matrix was our great hope for success; the armada's supplies are almost exhausted." He sighed, as though a great weight had been dropped on to his shoulders. "It seems we shall soon be fighting a common enemy."

Maistroff was out of his seat almost immediately. "What did you say?" he demanded.

And that was when Exedore demonstrated that Miriya wasn't the only one of her people who could drop emotional bombs. "My Lord Breetai has just informed me that the Grand Fleet is headed for this star system. That means four million, eight hundred thousand ships with the destructive force of a supernova."

Max went numb. It was true, then. Zentraedi history was repeating and the Grand Fleet, that vast, unending swarm of ships he, Rick, and Lisa had seen, was already on its way to Earth to wipe out every last trace of the Human race. His hand was already making its way to Miriya's, before he even realized it. It was as though it knew what he needed more than he himself did; to cling to the one thing, the one person, he somehow knew would always be his. Even so, the irony of the situation wasn't lost on him.
"Miriya," he said, quietly so as not to interrupt the official talks, "I'm so afraid this might be the end of us. Just when we've found each other."

"I don't care," she whispered back, squeezing his hand, "as long as I'm at your side in battle."

Max allowed himself a very short, sharp gasp before he caught himself. Squeezing Miriya's hand harder, he looked at the tabletop, studiously.

"It's not over yet!" Exedore exclaimed. "There might still be a way!"

The entire room put their eyes back on him and Gloval seemed particularly interested in what the diplomat had to say. "Explain," he bade the Zentraedi.

"Thus far, this vessel has proved itself unbeatable," Exedore obliged, "I will need more information before I can be sure, but I believe there is a way that we can win."

Max ran the towel through his hair letting a portion of the rest of the water from his shower drip onto the mat he was standing on. It was several hours after the meeting that he and Miriya had finally gotten back to their quarters and prepared for a little extra sleep before the other shoe dropped… well, sleep if they could, that is.

"That Exedore sure is a character," he called out the bathroom door to Miriya, "he always go on that long?"

"Wouldn't know," Miriya called back, "Azonia was always the one who had to deal with him. Have you seen my hairbrush?"

"Check in the nightstand drawer."

"I already did."

"Try mine, I mighta grabbed it this morning in a rush." He hung up his towel and put his bathrobe on. "So what do you think of Azonia? Will she bring the Quadrono's down on our side?"

There was a long pause. "She's… she's a survivor," Miriya replied, "she'll help us, I think."

"That's good," Max stated, wiping the fog off his glasses and exiting the bathroom. "The more of your people we can get on our side… the…" He stopped short as he entered the bedroom and put his glasses on. Miriya was sitting on the side of the bed, staring intently at a book that she had in her hand. Max recognized it as a hymnal he had borrowed from the church in Macross City. There had been a certain hymn he hadn't been able to get out of his head and he'd had found the page only to have to leave it suddenly and bookmark it with a photograph.

A photograph that Miriya now held up for him to see. It was a picture that Ben had taken of Max and Ariana shortly after their first sortie following graduation. They were both all smiles and Ari had an arm around Max's shoulder, winking and making a V sign with her other hand. Max, for his part, had been blushing and the photo called up memories of some joking taunting from Ben.

"Can I assume that you were going to tell me about her?" Miriya asked him. Max took the picture from her and plopped down on the side of the bed next to Miriya, wordlessly. "You told me I was the first, Max. Did you-"

"I've never lied to you, Miriya."

"Then who is that?"

"It's… just an old friend, that's all," Max stated, folding the picture back between the pages of the hymnal and closing it.

"She looks like more than just-"

"Mir, you don't have to be jealous of someone who's dead." He placed the book back in the drawer of his nightstand and closed it. As soon as he did so, He found Miriya's arms wrapped around his chest and her head buried in his back. His hands covered hers and he squeezed them. "That was outta line, I shouldn't have-"

"I'd like to hear about her someday."

Max sighed. "Yeah… someday. I think you would have liked Ariana, Mir. Coulda passed for a Quadrono." He turned around, still holding both her hands in his. "Listen, Mir, about this battle coming up."

"Don't even-"

"I don't want you to be-"

"We've been through this already, Domillian. I should be-"

"I don't want you out there with the Skulls."

"There is no other place for me, Max, you know that."

"Miriya, I… I don't wanna lose you, too."

"And I refuse to lose you!"

This brought Max to a dead halt in his argument with Miriya. She was arguing the same thing he was, so he couldn't very well rule it out. He was trapped in a corner with no way out.

"If this truly is to be the final battle of the Zentraedi," Miriya continued, "what follows, for better or for worse, is a world of nothing but peace. I could never live in such a world without the person who brought me to it. And now that I've seen it… there's no going back to the other world. If I were forced to live on as you died in that other world… I would tear apart this world until there was nothing left of it. I would blow up this ship, the Earth, and everything within ten star systems before I'd live in that world… without you. And you know you feel the same about me, so you can't argue against it. I'm going with the Skulls."

Max blinked somewhat stupidly several times, trying to formulate some argument against it. Try to make something, anything, make sense and convince Miriya not to go along.

He was interrupted by a high-pitched series of chimes coming from his nightstand drawer. They formed themselves into a slow, un-intruding tune that would have been jazzy had the tempo been faster. When it began repeating itself, Max curiously went over to the nightstand and opened the drawer. Moving the hymnal aside and digging through it, he tracked the music back to the other precious item in the drawer; that silver and blue locket. Carefully, he picked it up, feeling the vibrations of the picked bells inside it he had never known about before.

"What is it?" Miriya asked.

"I never knew this was a music box, too," he said, as if to himself, "I wonder why it's never played before." Suddenly, he remembered the day he had first taken it out of that old lumpy envelope. It had clacked to the ground before he had known it was there.
They both listened to the tune for several moments and then Max sighed, giving a slight smile. "Yeah, you're right, Ari… I was forced to stay out of it once, too… and look what happened." His smile had faded and Miriya put a hand on his shoulder the locket slowed and wound down to a stop mid-song. He looked away from the locket, at Miriya. "You're right," he said to her, "you do belong with the Skulls. I was being selfish. Just do me one favor?"

"Name it."

"Don't get out of my sight?"

Miriya shrugged, making a mock sour face. "Why Domillian! If I did that, then we wouldn't be able to fight together, now would we."

Max laughed. "When you're right, you're right! Here." Carefully, he undid the clasp on the chain of the locket and put it around Miriya's neck. "I want you to have this. I've been wondering what I should do with it. Call it a good luck charm."

Miriya looked a little questionable, but moved her hair out of the way anyhow and allowed Max to put it on her. "Zentraedi make their own luck."

"Well, Humans don't, so can you humor me?"

"Oh all right."

"And just one other thing?"

"Hmm?"

"What's Domillian mean?"

And of course, no sooner had they both found their ways to their pillows when the ship-wide alarm had sounded, calling all pilots to their battle stations. The two of them ran into Rick on the way in.

"Hey, Rick," Max called through the maelstrom of hurrying pilots and launch deck crew, "what's going on, is this some kinda drill?"

Rick shook his head. "No, it's the Grand Fleet. They're here already. Everyone's scrambling as fast as they can."

"Vermilion team, report to ready room. Vermilion team, report to ready room," came the urgent voice over the comm.

"Well, that's us," Max said to Miriya. She responded with a slight nod.

Max's mind started racing again, all at once. As he was looking at Miriya, he wondered if there wasn't some way, anyway at all, of getting her to stay behind. Was there yet some argument he could use? Was there something else he could get her to do? Would simply knocking her unconscious for the duration of the battle work?

Alas, he feared that any of those would result in his castration, eventually. Nothing for it except to take her by the hand and charge into it all headlong, full speed. So, Max did just that and tossed a wave back at Rick. "Well, see ya' 'round, boss," he said with phony cheer.

"Count on it," Rick responded in kind.

And Max and Miriya were off, sprinting to the Vermilion Team ready rooms, grabbing their gear from their lockers on the way. The other members of Vermilion had already taken all but one of the changing rooms, so Max and Miriya nabbed the last one, entered, and flicked over the occupied sign.

Miriya immediately began to take off her uniform jacket. Max blinked and his sense of propriety kicked in.

"I'll just be over here," he said, turning to face out the room's big window. It was looking out of the slowly rotating Earth below and in the distance the newly appeared stars that signified the presence of the Zentraedi Grand Fleet. The innumerable sparkles looked almost pretty, if it weren't for the presence of impending doom inherent in them.

It was only a few more moments before they were both changed and garbed in RDF flightsuits. It was still another fetching outfit for her, that suit of almost all red, trimmed in white in the same places where his was blue. Between the suit and her fighter, Max started to wonder if maybe she was taking the red theme a bit far…

But then, of course, he remembered his own propensity for the color blue.

"Max, I'm worried about the Destroids," Miriya said matter-of-factly, "Captain Gloval will pull them in before the attack on Dolza's flagship, won't he?"

"I suppose it depends on how the fight's going," Max responded, "if the VTs are all occupied, we might need them to protect the SDF-1's hull."

"I suppose so," Miriya agreed, slowly. Max sensed the hesitation.

"Something the matter, Mir?" he asked turning away from the window and facing her again as he pulled on his gloves.

"It's just… this battle," she stated, "Max, I've never felt like this prior to a battle, before."

"Yeah," Max agreed, "me either." He put both his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes, allowing himself to fall into them. "Miriya, I promise, if there's a way to get through this, you and I will find it."

He stopped. Max's slow descent into Miriya's gaze was suddenly interrupted by a reflection of bright orange blossoming across her pupils. First one, then another, then several more. All of varying size, shape, and color. Max cast a gaze over his shoulder and found the source of the reflections. Gasping, he turned full around and shortly Miriya had a similar sentiment.

Outside the window, the Earth below was alight with giant orange, red, and yellow fireballs, the only silent signal of the massive explosions taking place on the planet's surface. The entire Grand Fleet was attacking the Earth from all sides of the globe, relentlessly bringing down a rain of death upon the hapless cities and countries on the surface.

Max stood there numbly for several moments, not saying a word, simply transfixed by the obscenely-sized fireballs covering the planet. Miriya got close to him and put her arm around his waist and he answered by putting an arm around her shoulder.
No words passed between them, for neither one of them had any.

Radio silence in a battle this insane? Gloval had to be kidding himself! Coordination was going to be all but impossible and with every single Mecha in the air, coordination was rather necessary. Max decided that that was all. It was the final nail in the coffin of the SDF-1, the RDF, and the Human race.

In his cockpit, he glanced out the canopy toward Miriya's Veritech, flying in formation on his port side. The other two member of Vermilion Team, Hatchin and O'Keefe, made up the rest of the tight diamond of four VTs. Miriya was looking his way and she nodded. He nodded back in wordless agreement with her; the best thing for it would be to break formation right off and just stay in two pairs instead of a single foursome. Max pulled the B lever and visualized the change over to Battloid mode. Holding up a giant metal shod hand, he signaled the team to a halt. Miriya, Hatchin, and O'Keefe brought their fighters to a similar halt and also changed modes. Once again demonstrating his adeptness with the Veritech controls, Max moved his Mecha through a series of hand gestures, motioning to the others what he wanted done. Hatchin and O'Keefe posed their VTs in a salute for acknowledgment, then both moved up beside Max and Miriya in a twosome.
And then, holding position there, they waited.

Max checked the timepiece on his console, wondering just how much time had passed. It had only been a few seconds, but it felt as though it were an eternity. There, arrayed in a massive display of Mecha force, every single pilot of the RDF was spread out in front of the SDF-1, waiting, waiting…

…waiting for a song to signal the beginning of their attack.

The comm screen of the Tac net that Max's Veritech had tuned to the SDF-1 Bridge flicked to life, showing Minmei gently swaying back and forth to the intro of her latest song, "We Will Win."

Doubt it, Max thought bitterly, then pushed the thought aside as he spotted Rick at the fore of the entirety of the Skull Squadron Veritechs move out. There was no more time for emotional thoughts other than shoot or be shot, kill or be killed.

Life is only what we choose to make it
Let us take it
Let us be free

Minmei's singing drifted out over both the Tac Net and the generic frequencies and Skull Squad took its signal, breaking formation and swooping in on the innumerable Zentraedi battle pods, powered armors, and carriers. Max was pleased as the four Vermilion Team VTs all swooped in on the same carrier in the middle of a cluster of purple powered armors. The powered armors all simply sat there as if transfixed by some massive hypnotic suggestion, unmoving, marionettes whose strings were being ignored by their controller.

We can find the glory we all dream of
And with our love
We can win

As one, the Vermilion Veritechs let loose a barrage of missiles at the carrier, each one hitting its mark dead on. The resulting explosion was enough to snap the powered armors out of their stupor and into action and suddenly, Vermilion Team had an actual fight on their hands. Max kept track of Hatchin and O'Keefe for as long as he could, but the insanity swallowed the two pilots up within thirty second and with no radio allowed, there was no way he could find them in the mess.

Still, if we must fight or face defeat
We must stand tall and not retreat

Max switched back to Fighter mode and near him, Miriya followed suit. A fair number of the powered armors were making attack runs on the two of them now and they both looped relative upward, jinking away from the Zentraedi fire. Minmei's song was obviously still distracting the Zentraedi, for it was apparent to Max that they were hampered by a severe lack of communication as well. This became their fatal weakness when Max jinked inwards of the loop he and Miriya had formed and she jinked outward. They passed each other by mere feet and were both quickly face to face with several Armors that had been chasing the other. Both Max and Miriya fired off several shots and took out the confused Armors with practiced ease.

After finishing off that group of Armors, Max and Miriya looped back and regrouped, looking for new prey. Max signaled Miriya by pointing to another group of Armors ahead of them. She nodded and smiled back shortly, the smile of a tiger hunting easy prey and knowing it.

With our strength, we'll find the light
There's no fight we can't fight
Together, oh together
We will win

Together, Max and Miriya's Veritech sped into the middle of this new melee of menacing purple armors. Switching over to Battloid and thrusting to the side, transferring their forward momentum into a spiral, they circled around each other back to back, firing. Their loops got narrower and narrower with each pass and each wave of the enemy destroyed until they were back to back, their two thrusts having cancelled out on contact, "standing" in the middle of the group. From the racks of missiles on the shoulders of their two Veritechs, shots spurted forth in a fountain of fire and vapor trails, erupting in a light show in oranges all around them.

Blessed with strong hearts that beat as one
Watch us soar
And with love that conquers all
We'll win this battle
This last battle
We will win
We must win
We can win

For the brief lull before another wave of the enemy came swooping in, Max wished he had that kind of confidence. Sure, they were fighting well right now. But how long could they last. This battle was one of attrition and everyone fighting in it knew it.
And that was the last thought unrelated to battle that Max had for well around fifteen minutes.

As the battle goes on we feel stronger
How much longer
Must this go on?

As his cockpit indicators read that he was out of missiles, Max wondered the very same thing. Now with only his Veritech's gun/cannon left, he would have a definite harder time of things.

The fighting had moved closer to the Earth's upper stratosphere and Max found himself with his back to the planet, Miriya, though either some miracle of coincidence or ESP, was still right there with him. A number of Regult pods were on their way in, duel plastron cannons firing off brand new gouts of death and destruction. It was during this new fight that they were engaged in that Claudia's voice finally broke out over the tac net, finally breaking the radio silence imposed by the Bridge.
"All escort fighters break contact and attack objective immediately," she ordered.

To Max and Miriya's port, several clicks away, the SDF-1 began its attack on Dolza's massive main flagship. The flagship was nearly as big as Earth's Moon and the SDF-1, dwarfed in comparison, appeared to be a small tin soldier attempting to attack an oncoming semi truck.

Each and every day we dream of winning
And beginning
A new life

And still Minmei sang on.

Max swept his gun/cannon around in a deadly arc, fending off the oncoming Regults long enough to open his own channel to the tac net. Dolza's flagship wasn't Vermilion Team's target and he had to at least try and make certain that his other two teammates didn't try anything that would get them killed in the massive blast that was about to happen.

"Vermilion Team," he barked out, "cut and run. Take out whatever of the enemy are left and prepare for atmospheric insertion." Two voices responded in the affirmative; Miriya's and Hatchin's. Either O'Keefe was out of radio range, or they had lost him.
Max pulled down on the F lever and Mechamorphosed back to Fighter mode. Firing away a path to the west, away from the SDF-1 and Dolza's flagship, Max poured on his full thrusters. Miriya was right behind him and shortly Hatchin joined them in a triad formation.

He had been checked out on an atmospheric insertion on simulator runs, but Max had never had to actually do one before, much less while under fire from the enemy. He had always been aboard ship when they had traveled through the Earth's stratosphere. About four Zentraedi Regult pods were still on their tail following close and refusing to let them get away. They had to get rid of them before they could make their approach to the planet's surface or all seven of them, RDFer and Zentraedi alike, would burn up in the upper atmosphere.

Max banked under the other two Vermilion fighters and poured on his thrusters. Nearly blacking out from the acceleration, he sped past the Regults as well and looped back up behind them, righting himself to the Earth's horizon as he did. Quick as lightning, he drew a bead on two of them and fired off shots, hitting each in that weak junction between the leg and the bulbous main body. They flailed and went careening steeply into the stratosphere, breaking apart in orange blossoms. In the meantime, the other two pods had reacted and were now facing him, weapons pointed and ready to fire. Max jinked upward, imaging a conversion to Guardian. One of the shots had narrowly missed him and he found that Miriya had followed his cue and had turned backward to their approach path to take out a third pod.

That left only the one who had just narrowly missed Max, which had again turned its attention back to Miriya and Hatchin. He switched back to Fighter again, the gauges in his cockpit screaming at him about slowly rising hull temperatures. Again, Max poured on his thrusters to catch up with the Regult. Once back within weapons range, Max drew a bead and fired, catching the pod in its aft most engine. The pod exploded directly in front of him and he was going so fast that he didn't have time to avoid it. Still pouring on his backward thrusters, he sped through the space where the pod had been only nanoseconds earlier, feeling his Mecha shudder with the force of the blast. As he emerged out the other side of that fireball, he couldn't help but think there was something vaguely familiar about the sequence.

It clicked when a new alarm went off in his cockpit; the fire indicator. He didn't even have time to note where the fire was before a small voice sounded in his head.

Eject! Eject now, before it happens to you, too!

Max clamped a hand down on the ejection mechanism. An instant later, the canopy had blown off and he was being propelled a relative upward into the space just above the extremely thin atmosphere. However, he was still falling along the re-entry path and now he was without any kind of heat shield protection. Perhaps he had jumped the gun on the ejection.

That thought was declared null and void as a moment later, the left side of Max's Mecha split apart in a massive explosion of bright orange fire. The force of it blew the rest of the Mecha apart in seconds.

Max was already beginning to feel ridiculously hot inside his airtight flight suit. It was another instant later that a small tear formed in the shoulder of his suit. He clamped a hand over it, desperately, trying to keep the air from escaping, all the while feeling heat growing all around him.

The metal-shod hand of Miriya's Guardian came up underneath him and scooped him up. Max twisted around and spotted Miriya through the canopy signaling him to curl up as tightly as he could. Then the other hand of her Guardian came clamping down over him, encasing him in darkness. The temperature around him dropped slightly, but air was still slowly leaking out of his flight suit.

Max felt the Mecha around him shudder and the temperature began to rise again. Encased in the darkness, Max floated there in the zero G of the fall toward Earth with no reference for where they were in relation to the surface, the temperature still climbing noticeably. He began to feel himself losing his grip on consciousness and fought to keep a grip on the real world, no matter how hellishly hot and unbearable it was. He wasn't sure if the world was spinning around him or if he was the one spinning. There was no way to tell in pitch black zero G.

Through the roar of the superheated atmosphere outside and the steady leak of his flight suit, a thought managed to form itself in Max's mind.

I'm going to die, now.

And that other voice answered him, that other part of him that he had thought long since lost.

No, you're not. Wake up!

As if involuntarily, Max's grip on the tear in his flight suit renewed itself. He clamped down harder, the cramps in his hand unimportant.

The feel of the heat dropped away, as though it had suddenly become unimportant. Max was transfixed with the second inner voice he suddenly found he had.

He was brought back to reality when he slammed into the metal shod hand beneath him. Light exploded forth into his senses, a clouded sky reflecting light down into his eyes with a vengeance. It was a moment before he realized that it was because Miriya had taken the hand that had been covering him above off. As the heat bled away, for real this time, Max flopped onto his back, breathing as if to catch his breath, one hand still covering that tear in his suit's shoulder and beads of sweat rolling down his neck. It was another indeterminate amount of time before he realized that Miriya's VT had stopped moving and she was presently standing over him. He finally took his hand off the tear and triggered open his face place, still gasping for air and catching his breath.

"I don't recommend that," he wheezed out between breaths and through his dry throat and lips.

"Lay still, don't try to talk. Here," she helped him get his helmet off and took out a handkerchief, from where Max could only guess. She wiped up a good deal of the sweat that had drenched him.

Giant-scaled footsteps sounded behind Miriya's VT and Hatchin's Veritech made its presence known, in Battloid form. His voice came through the externals.

"Ma'am, is he all right?"

"He'll be fine," Miriya shouted back, "just needs some water, you have any?"

"Roger that," Hatchin responded, changing over to Guardian mode. His canopy popped open and he climbed down along the Mecha's outstretched arm and joined Max and Miriya on the hand of Miriya's Veritech. He handed her a sealed bottle of water and Miriya helped Max to drink. Within a few minutes, Max was sitting up and was relatively coherent once again.

"Scottie, any word on Mackie?" Max asked of Hatchin, referring to their absent wing-mate, O'Keefe.

"He didn't make it, Skipper," Hatchin responded, "got between me and a whole mess of Regult pods. Only reason I'm here is because he managed to hold 'em off."

Max crushed the empty water bottle in his hand. "Dammit," he swore, chucking the bottle and watching it bounce off the Mecha hand with a loud clang. It skipped again and fell off the side to the ground.

Max found himself looking around for the first time since the three of them had landed. The place where they had put down appeared to be the middle of a vast desert. A few craters pockmarked the landscape in the distance and sand and dust blew on the desolate feeling breeze.

"Where did we put down?" he asked.

"Mid latitudes of the Northern Hemisphere," Miriya responded, looking to Hatchin for further elaboration.

"My computer had us around the area west of the Rockies in Washington somewhere, Lieutenant," he obliged.

"But," Max stuttered, uncertain, "there's a whole redwood forest in Washington."

"I know," Hatchin agreed, grimly.

The radio in Miriya's open cockpit crackled to life with notes filtering through the last vestiges of what appeared to be radio blackout from reentry. Miriya scrambled over to it to turn it up and try to tune it. First, a few notes filtered through, then more, then, finally, a whole song. Minmei's song.

Now that we have reached this last encounter
Where are we now?
What shall be now?
How could we have come so far to give up?
We won't give up
We will win

"Look up there!" Hatchin said excitedly, pointing northward. Descending through the parting clouds the three pilots could see the unmistakable techno knight form of the massive SDF-1. The ship had made it, and now Minmei's song was calling all the survivors home.

Much to Miriya's protests, Max stood up on semi-shaky legs to get a better view of it. The ship looked as though it were coming in for a landing several clicks north of their location. It would take three pilots in two spent Veritechs several hours to reach it, but it was doable.

"Well, guess we'd better report in, so let's get moving," Max commanded, already heading for the cockpit of Miriya's fighter. She was following him a step behind and Hatchin had already returned to his Mecha. He was carefully balancing his way down the arm of the Mecha when a slight wave of vertigo hit him and he tipped. If it weren't for Miriya's steadying arm, he might have fallen off completely. "Maybe you should drive?" he said to her.

"As if I would have let you pilot my Mecha in the state you're in," she responded, in all seriousness.

Max climbed into the back seat in the cockpit and Miriya took her seat in the front. As Miriya got them underway, Hatchin following close behind in his VT, Max called up the navigation computer's data in an effort to pinpoint, for sure, where they were. Sure enough, the latitude and longitude readings had them in Washington, not far from what had been Seattle and where now a massive crater stood. He said as much to Miriya.

"All the times I've seen my people do this to other planets, other worlds," she said, "but I never imagined the sheer scope of it. Domillian, your world is… you must feel so lonely."

Max shook his head and put a hand on Miriya's shoulder. "No," he said, "I'm not alone any more because you're here… Dentalla."

"Dentalla?" Miriya puzzled. "Max, when did you start learning Zentraedi?"

"When I married my beautiful wife. She happens to be one, you know."

Blessed with strong hearts that beat as one
Watch us soar
And with love that conquers all we'll win this battle
This last battle
We will win
We can win
We will win.