ROBOTECH II Episode 1 Luna City by Jared Ornstead ===== Hi There! A couple of years ago I was contacted with an opportunity to submit a story for the proposed Robotech Two, to be done by Harmony Gold. The directives I was given were that it was to be during the Southern Cross era, but to concern entirely new people and elements, preferably linking strongly with all the Robotech themes. They later changed those goals, my agent sat on my work and no, I did not get that writing slot, but this is the sample work that I created. Barring certain things under exclusion (inevitable when they'd asked for official links to other copywrited things) everything herein actually belongs to me. Only Episode one was completed, as that was to be the sample. Work on the others halted when it was evident there would be no need for them. No, I do not intend to continue this as a work of fanfic. ===== (cue opening sequence) (split from dark screen) (camera zooms out from back view of a hover fast-attack trike) A trio of fast-attack trikes whizzed by on hoverjets over a flawless piece of road. The view from Unity spaceport was amazing. It was the only place on Luna city where the whole expanse of space and the breathtaking lunar colony could be seen on a single elevator ride. Two individuals in military outfits were taking that ride now. Starting from within the complex at the base of the landing towers and gently beginning the long ascent to the shuttle platforms above. The vast city began to be revealed as the transparent car lifted off, first the streets and shop fronts just across from the port buildings, gradually lifting to a more impressive view across the vast lunar city. The officer in the blue naval tunic and white dress slacks spoke first. "It's really quite amazing what we've done here. Earth-normal gravity, the envirodome. Makes it seem almost earthlike being able to walk in the open air under the sun and trees." The other officer's expression approved of the comfort, but was not impressed with the technology. "All achieved before this in the superfortress. The colony is nice, I'm not complaining. It's a slice of heaven even compared to Earth sometimes. But our engineers hardly deserve credit for what was, after all, merely a repeat." The car had risen above building level now, allowing a look out over a city that was green and marvelous, with white buildings and distant water, all sparkling with newness. The officers spoke as they watched the panorama that few ever tired of. It was the ground officer in tan tunic who spoke first. "I am really quite relieved that those new cruisers are coming out of the dock now. For some reason I am feeling antsy, and it would be good to have the additional firepower there to protect us." The naval officer grinned. "You worried about those Zentraedi? Forget 'em. They haven't had an equipment resupply in all the years since they've crashed here. If they can muster so much as a single battle pod to annoy us anymore I'd be impressed. And clubs do not fight mecha, not even with a giant alien behind them." The ground officer was not mollified. "Still, there are alot of them, and they've learned how to hide now. We can't ignore the possibility of a raid." The naval officer was smug. "That's what we've got a navy for. You ground types find where they live and we'll pound 'em back to where the stone age would seem advanced." The car continued to rise, it's acceleration unnoticed. They were now passing through the layers of sky. Then abruptly it was gone, and the girders and faceted panes of the massive envirodome were revealed behind the illusion of open air. Above that was the reflected view of starry space, with orbital shipyards hanging in the sky. The elevator car arrived at the shuttleport at the top of one of the spaceport towers. The two officers saluted each other. "Good luck on your test cruise, Admiral Hunnington. Enjoy your new ships." "And you, General Richter. Try not to get yourself too worked up. The Zentraedi in the backwoods are no threat at all. Heck, half your city is made up of ones that have acclimated and joined *our* side. Once micronized they're as human as the rest of us. You can't argue with success." Nor can I fault myself for being careful, the general thought. A buxom lass with pretty pink hair vaulted nimbly into the air to smack a volleyball across a net. She was laughing and seemed frozen in time as the ball zipped away from her. The volleyball game continued playing on the beach under a false blue sky as two men in navy uniforms walked across the sand toward a wide beach umbrella, where a fit young man in swim trunks was tinkering with a long object on a table underneath it. The two reached the circle of shade and snapped the figure identical salutes. The man under the umbrella lifted his shades to look at them and smiled. He dropped his screwdriver back onto the table, tossing back a casual return salute. "You must be those two pilots we were told to expect here today. I'm captain Panther." He rose to shake their hands. "Welcome to the One Hundred Twenty Second Combat Engineering Corp. Now, maybe one of the two of you could tell me why we've got two hot pilots assigned to what is essentially a ditch-digger outfit?" One of the pilots pulled a white manila envelope out from under his arm. "First Lieutenant Jason Bytheway, Sir! I was told to deliver these instructions to you, Sir!" Panther accepted the envelope, cocking an eyebrow at the lieutenant. "At ease, lieutenant. We're very casual in the one twenty second. The closest we get to a parade ground is when we make one. By the way, you must get *alot* of bad jokes about your name." The lieutenant flushed but said nothing. The second pilot relaxed with a nervous smile. "I'm staff sergeant Richard Doolittle, sir. Glad we could make it. Um," he glanced over at the group playing volleyball. "Is that our unit?" "Yup. Half of us are at least partially Zentraedi, and you know about them and volleyball. Besides, as engineers we adapt uniquely well to the military philosophy of 'hurry up and wait.' It's unit policy to arrange every meeting point near somewhere where we can play." He appraised the sergeant. "Doolittle, huh?" "Do a little more a little better." The pilot responded. "It's our family motto, sir." The captain grinned at the young pilot, they'd get along great. He picked up a remote control and hit a button. On similar wristbands worn by every member of the volleyball game, as well as many suntanners and nearby swimmers, a green light glowed and began to pulsate. Personnel began to slap their watches to acknowledge the order, abandoning their activities. Panther hefted the envelope containing the orders, sweeping his work off the table into a duffel, then tossing it in after. "We'll be ready to move in a bit. Then we'll show you guys where's home." Third lieutenant Eric Hamlin raced his board along the crest of the wave, sliding it around for another long ride across the rollicking water. Water from the crashing of the crest into white foam splashed him as he rode in the turmoil. Nobody seemed to care that his board rode a foot above the water instead of through it. Nor was he the only surfer so equipped. He was just about to back off and go out to catch another when the recall light on his wristband began to flash. With a scowl the young lieutenant abandoned his fun. Adjusting another control his surfboard lifted a good eight feet out of the water. He banked and rode it out over the beach, riding it over the sand and swinging to a stop next to the unit truck where the others were congregating. He kicked off the board, killed power, and began to stow it. "Hamlin!" The captain called, walking over with two navy pilots in tow. Eric shoved his board all the way into its slot and locked it down, turning to face his commander. He even tossed off a salute, albeit casually. "It works just about as we expected, sir. I couldn't tell the handling from a commercial model, though as you could see it didn't need water to repel over." Captain Panther nodded. "So it did work. Good job. Now we've got another detail to attend to. These two pilots will be joining us at Outpost Base 43. Seeing as how you're the only member of the unit without sand all over your feet I want you to change and take one of them to go pick up their equipment. The rest of us will shower and meet you at the dome." Hamlin smiled as he shrugged. "Not a problem. Whoever made the decision to have freshwater instead of salt in the artificial lake sure made the right call. I can be ready in twenty." "Stopwatch!" Someone called from within the nearby troops. Eric grinned, tensing himself. The pink haired girl held open the door of a portable changing booth and another held out his uniform. All waiting for the captain, who casually secured his watch to his wrist and held up a finger, looking at the dial. "Time begins... Now!" The young lieutenant leapt for the booth, grabbing his uniform on the way. Once he'd passed in the door was slammed behind him, but he'd misjudged the force of his rush and hit the inside wall. Those outside heard a thump and watched as the small booth tipped over, falling with a thud in the sand. No one moved to disturb it, and it rocked back and forth with some inner struggle. Eric popped open the door and emerged, uniform cap slightly askew, but otherwise in regulation attire. He climbed out of the fallen booth and took a moment to straighten himself. The captain hit a button on his watch. Smiling he announced. "Made it by two." There was a cheer and most of the unit returned to their business. Captain Panther turned to his two new pilots. "Let me explain this little ritual. As you know, we all live on an airless rock out here. Regulations require that we engage in regular spacesuit practice in order to be ready for a sudden loss of pressure. And, as I've no doubt you're aware, our uniforms offer minimal vacuum protection. So it's basically become a contest among us. Anyone can try whenever they want, and the best time of the day gets preferred status on the equipment of their choice the day after. That means alot when you've got one spectro-analyzer and thirty engineers to share it with. I'm sure we'll find some way to include you pilots as well." The pilots looked doubtful at this. The captain laughed. "Oh, don't worry. Our biggest problem out here is *boredom*. You'll find a few games are just our way of staying alert." "And the world needs more Lerts!" Cried a half dozen of the nearest troopers. Captain Panther raised a hand to his chest, speaking wistfully. "Ah. I have trained them well." (zoom in to his hand, with logo of unit beneath) (fade to black) (commerical break) (fade from black) (view of stars) (camera zooms back into main room of large ship, many uniformed men and women working. Camera hovers, and gradually zooms in with the accompaniedment of several hundred people talking till just above Admiral) On the bridge of a brand new combat cruiser Admiral Hunnington looked over his command console. He stroked a bank of instruments. "Our technology just keeps getting better and better." He seated himself in his command chair. "Very well. Lieutenant, you may take us out." Docking catches and releases fell away from the bulk of the cruiser. Tubes sealed themselves off and detached from the slowly accelerating warship. With a sigh of released machinery the trifoil shaped battlecruiser began to lift from the docking bay that had launched it. Two other cruisers lifted alongside it. (flash screen) (switch scene) Lieutenant Hamlin pulled the company truck, a standard issue Southern Cross flatbed hovertruck (with storage boxes tucked under each side to hold the unit's equipment) into a huge open hangar. The truck slowed to a stop and he and sergeant Doolittle hopped out of the cab. "'Bout time you guys showed up." A pretty girl sitting on a crate no less that ten feet high called down to them. There were two such boxes. She hopped down and spun a tool around her finger. "I was going to lose my figure, sitting around like a slug all day. And not a video game in sight, too." She sighed, putting her arms behind her head, then flashed her bright eyes back to the two men. "Although? No," she sighed. "Not enough time," she concluded. "Maybe later. First let's get everything wherever the heck it's going. Then we'll talk about dates." Hamlin was staring at her, utterly lost. "Um, our orders were to come here and pick up some equipment. Are those the crates?" The lady slapped one of the boxes. "Yup, one regulation issue strike veritech. Complete in every detail, broken down for ease of transport. Now lets get some movers and get it on that truck so we can get out of here." She hefted a duffel bag, tossing them a bright smile. "Okay?" Hamlin shook his head, crossing his arms. "Our captain told us to pick up some equipment. He didn't say there'd be anyone coming along with it." "Oh, yeah, that reminds me." She shoved an identibadge in his face. "I'm junior captain Shelley Rissole. And just how did you think you were going to maintain a veritech, anyway? You need someone rated to do it, right? Well, here I am. I'll discuss my transfer orders with your captain when he shows up. Till then..." She sparkled at them. "I outrank you." The two men looked at each other and shrugged. Captain Geoffrey Panther guided one of the six-wheeled, balloon-tired lunar rovers over the gray terrain in a series of bounces too slow to seem real, although their progress was considerable. Three other rovers and the hovertruck followed behind. Pilot Bytheway was in the passenger seat, a closed door sealed them off from the members of the 122 who rode in the transport's back. As they made a liquid-slow jump off the side of a small crater they could see the lights of Lunar City far behind them. The rovers were standard military transport on the lunar surface, seen almost everywhere. They were lightly armed and armored against the constant Zentraedi presence, though they weren't much good against much more than a footsoldier in armor. This did not present a problem, as the only Zentraedi left were footsoldiers in armor. The tiny, almost trivial, turrets on the rovers were just enough threat to keep the giant aliens clear. Geoffrey Panther was talking. "When the Lunar City was completed ninety-eight percent of the engineering companies were recalled to Earth. The rest of us were sent out to complete a ring of outpost and early warning stations. When we got done with that they more or less forgot about us. Oh, they call us in from time to time when they want a building put up or a parade ground expanded. But mostly they leave us to our own devices, and an engineer with time on his hands is a dangerous thing. We do all sorts of little projects to keep occupied." The small caravan started up the slope of a medium sized, high walled crater. The captain pointed out something to their side and below them. "There, what you see right there between those hills, is Outpost Base-43. It has a mess hall, bunks, equipment storage areas, all that you'd expect. It has never failed to pass inspection. We keep it in constant pristine shape, not so much as a dust speck out of alignment." Bytheway could feel his chest swelling with pride, proud that this ragtag bunch could manage it and committing himself to carry on the tradition. "The reason, of course, is that nobody lives there. All base sensors are tied through land line to our real base. We call it Oberon." They crested the crater rim and the rover came to a halt. Panther leaned over his controls. "*This* is what happens when you leave engineers with too much time on their hands." Below them stood revealed a lakelike pool of green on the lunar surface. Lawn and trees covered the crater floor, small lakes dotted the expanse, and in the center of all this stood a high-tech fairy castle. The castle was almost pure white, low to the ground and roofed in purple. There were turrets and battlements and an overwhelming feeling of unreality. A destroid walked the walls, revealing that the battlements and walls were not only scaled for the giant machines they were functional defenses as well. "We keep the atmosphere in with a standard force-field arrangement. A little costly on power but we can afford it. Incidentally our little atmosphere shield looks gray from any height above our own, making an almost perfect camoflague for us." The captain started their vehicle moving again, following in the wake of the rest of the caravan that had used the opportunity to pass them. He kept talking as they raced across the lawn toward the huge entry gates of the castle. "The walls are made out of tridium cermaplast, the engine blocks of Zentraedi cruisers that used to be lying around up here. Eighteen feet thick, enough to stand up to any attack not involving ship guns. It'll shrug off anything less than cruiser weaponry. The roof is the same." Bytheway was sputtering. "But, cermaplast is a restricted material! It's only to be used for military purposes! How did you *get* any?" They crossed into the gatehouse. "I told you. The engine blocks of the Zentraedi warships were made of it. There were almost as many of those old wrecks scattered around up here as there were on Earth. Besides, this *is* a military purpose. And the orders to make the outpost included the provision that we were to use available materials whenever possible. Well, cermaplast happened to be available in quantity. We used a multiforge to create most of our components for electronics, equipment and things." They were inside the gatehouse now, past the tremendous hydraulic doors made of the same white metal as the rest of the base. Not far within were stored ranks and ranks of the heavy earth-mover destroids assigned to the company. Their heavy, engorged limbs and lack of armament made their appearance exactly what it was, strong but helpless. They pulled the rover into a smaller garage off the main mecha bay, then began to disembark. Shelley Rissole bounced down from the cab of the hovertruck, accepting her duffel as it was tossed down to her, and skipped back to oversee the unloading of the boxes. Two members of the 122 were already suiting up in their big earth-movers and just lifting the crates down without resort to special equipment. Shelley shrugged and began cracking open the boxes, ready and willing to get the task started of assembling the veritech. "Here she is, sir." Hamlin brought up the captain. Shelley wiped a lock of hair from her eyes. Then she dropped the crowbar she'd been using and flung herself with a wide-open grin to hug the startled captain. He received her wide-eyed and surprised, but smiling. "Kitty!" His jaw dropped. "Cat!" She grabbed him in another hug. The two captains danced around laughing and singing like children. They froze when they noticed the eyes of the unit upon them, flashing apart and straightening their uniforms. "Ah. Pleased to meet you, Captain Rissole. You've transferred out of R&D?" She saluted. "Disciplinary problems, captain. I don't do good work locked up all day with stuffy old scientists. I'm to cool my heels on some airless rock somewhere until high command begins to miss my brain." "Welcome to our airless rock." He shook her hand, then grinned. "Was this another whim?" She shook out her hair, smiling. "Yup. Better luck for me. I had no idea *you'd* landed here too." He nodded. "Let's discuss this in my office, shall we?" He offered her his arm. The pair of them walked off together. Hamlin and Doolittle looked after the pair, shaking their heads. "She *knew* the captain?" Hamlin concluded in wonder. "Why do I get the feeling that we're going to have a *much* weirder time around here from now on?" Doolittle was ignoring him, looking around him at the massive bay. "Where'd you guys get all the tools and parts to make this place? Didn't people get suspicious when you requisitioned it all?" Hamlin pulled out his friend's duffel. "Oh, no. Nobody asked because we didn't requisition anything. We have our own multiforge." Doolittle reacted with shock at this mild statement. "What! Are you kidding? There can't be any way that high command would issue one to a base this small. Lunar City only has three itself." Hamlin shrugged. "They didn't issue us one. We built it. Who do you think built the ones in Lunar City? They don't grow on trees, you know." Doolittle stopped in his tracks. "Wait! There can't be more than four people who have access to the security levels necessary to see all the blueprints of one of those!" He looked around swiftly, then hissed in concern. "Did you hack in?" Hamlin shook his head, smiling. "Nah. People forget that somebody had to design the things before the high security types could classify them. Captain Panther was on the research team that made 'em. He just had us make standard parts and stick 'em together. He did all the classified stuff himself. So it might even be legal." (fade to black) (scene shift) (the sound of water, wind blowing, enemy theme playing) There was a Robotech garden. Trees with glowing leaves had their branches merge with the ceiling, becoming its support structure. Huge, multifaceted fruit whose panes twisted and seemed to flow from top to bottom (incidentally scattering the light they reflected) hung from their limbs. The floor was mirror-smooth and glassy. Across it floated a trio of officers, their flower-like robes rustling softly in the gentle breeze of their motion. They floated approximately a foot above the floor, their feet unmoving as they sped along. Walls in this place were vegetation up to half their surface, sometimes from the floor up, sometimes the opposite. The bulbs, leaves and flowers blinked knowingly, their vegetative processes actually a part of the vast ship's computing power. The trio of officers, individuals identical in facial appearance, different only in the pastel colors of their robes, floated to a halt at the foot of a mighty dais at once beautiful and ugly. The steps up were flowing with vines and banks of flowers, twisting and curling around urns planted with small, fruit-bearing bushes. All this led up to a mighty throne bearing a good resemblance to petrified intestines dripping with goo. It was as it some gory display had been frozen in a moment of time and now this grisly display was all that was left of some tragic fate. The contrast was enough to cow most. These three had seen it hundreds of thousands of times, and grown immune. "My Lord," the three said in unison, identical voices giving a slight reverb effect. "Our motherships are prepared to exit space fold and begin an attack on the race of beings who hold the treasure." "What is the disposition of the masters?" A languid voice came up unseen from the throne. "Hesitant, my lord. They fear... they believe they have cause to fear a race that could eliminate our entire warrior race. The Zentraedi war fleets were supreme under our guidance for millennium. The masters will be cautious in dealing with the race to defeat them." "Let them be cautious." The voice on the throne solidified into a figure in deep black uniform with cape sweeping over half his reclined body. He would have looked nearly human save for the fact that half his face was scaled with overlapping petals of the flower of life, each one a bright scarlet. The petals rippled in the breeze of his appearance, causing one or two to tear gently free and flutter away, floating softly away and swirling to a rest in the vegetation of the dais. A petal fell from one of the plants there. The two were identical. The figure spoke again. "Our supplies of corrupted protoculture are more than plentiful. They should have seen the advantages eons ago. But we will let the masters be cautious. We will instead study the response of this species, and learn the source and nature of their mysterious power. Begin the defold." (fade to black) (scene reopens. Enter 'good guy' theme. Camera pan across bridge as eyes of Admiral for first several sentences of talk) Admiral Hunnington relaxed on the bridge of his new cruiser, turning his head and smiling in pleasure. "Yes, sirree. A fine ship. Another dozen of these babies and we could take on another Zentraedi fleet." (pan to lieutenant and then back to Admiral) A lieutenant looked up from her monitor panel. "Admiral. We've detected a gravity disturbance near the far side of the moon. It could be ships emerging from a space fold operation!" The admiral sat up in his chair. "Dispatch one of the fleet scouts at once!" He ordered. "We don't want to hint of our true might, and I'd like to know the alien's force before we plot an engagement." "Fleet scout dispatched, sir. Five minutes to visual." Hunnington adjusted his hat. "Good, now inform moon base of our action and request that they go to alert status." Shock and bright light was transmitted through all the viewscreens, people shielded their faces while instruments overloaded. Outside a massive beam of energy fired through space, passing by the trio of cruisers and streaking on to strike the huge orbiting spaceyards. The beam impacted right on the central structure, and the entire station began to drift and fall toward the moon's surface, trailing debris and with a glowing energy crater where it's center used to be. "Priority call to fleet!" Hunnington yelled through the confusion. "Enemy demonstrated use of reflex weaponry! All ships fall back and assemble!" On the bridge of his organic throne room the lord of the Robotech flagship laughed, then gestured for one of his many trios of underlings. "Signal the masters' fleet. Tell them too bad they only had one shot in that cannon." He was leaning back to laugh some more when a second trio interrupted him, turning from controls that so many others like them still operated on the bridge. "Lord Kim, we have detected the defunct bodies of many of our Zentraedi warships on the moon below us. Lifeform readings also detect many of our giant warriors are still active on that body's surface." "Really?" Lord Kim was amused. "Well, tell our brethren they are to dispatch one of their motherships to the surface. Inform them they are to investigate the hulls of these wrecked ships. Perhaps there is power to be siphoned from them. Our Zentraedi fleet was well supplied. With their energy we might be able to recharge our own fleet to where we can use that cannon again. Oh, and rearm our servants on the surface, of course. If we have some of our warriors here then it would make sense to use them. Bring the reserves of Zentraedi equipment out of storage." (fade out to secondary scene) Shelley and Jeff reclined in a lounge-like sitting area watching the command tapes. The open hologram shimmering above the table showed a static map of Luna City, with glowing points surrounding it. As the voice spoke the glowing points were expanding, shedding forth white rings around themselves. Rings which soon interconnected. "...And so each outpost will be provided with at least two veritechs, their patrol patterns will reduce the risk of Zentraedi infiltration in force by eliminating gaps in our sensor web." The static map was replaced by a woman's face. A woman with a beautiful face and long, flowing blue hair wearing the uniform of a first major. "These veritechs will be assigned part of each unit to occupy an outpost base, regardless of their regular designation. For the veritech squadrons this just means they will have two extra planes and pilots, for engineering and destroid groups this will require some adjustment. Special requests for supplies and equipment will be honored for this period of adjustment." The woman grew less serious. "Ultimately, this means that we can push the remaining aliens back. From that we can move to identify where they are hiding and finally end this threat. Good luck commanders. Try not to let the pilots get on your nerves." She finished with a smile and the recording ended. Shelley finished the glass in her hand, resting in the deep cushions of her chair. "That lady's not bad. A command type who can speak honestly and give a good briefing. This explains..." She cut off and sat up abruptly as siren began to wail and the lights turned blue. One of the walls flashed into a floor-to-ceiling viewscreen showing the same woman's face. "Emergency Alert! Fleet reports that a large alien armada has emerged from space fold and engaged our forces! All outposts prepare for combat!" Panther rolled to his feet. "How long to get that veritech running?" She flowed to her feet, eyes concerned. "Three hours, give or take." He was running off to an exit. "Take whatever you need, but get it *done!* It's the only combat weapon we have except that destroid on the walls." Shelley's eyes widened and she set down her glass, hurrying out the other door. Down in the lounge areas with the bulk of the 122, Hamlin and Doolittle were relaxing in shorts and tank tops next to a huge indoor pool. The alarm sirens rang and Hamlin was *gone*, leaving behind a fluttering magazine and a spilled drink. Doolittle sat up, looking around wildly. "What? What's going on?" The people of the 122 had vanished into changing booths at the side of the pool, already some were emerging wearing vac suits and armor, belting weapons to their sides as they vacated the booths for their comrades. A girl with pink hair in a tight vac suit helped the pilot to his feet, guiding him along. "I'm Tinsel, team medic. You're the new pilot right? Well, you're in for a wild ride." She drew him to an empty changing booth, throwing him in and jumping in after. The closet seemed to shake for two seconds and the door opened, Tinsel dragging him out fully dressed in regulation vacuum gear. She dragged him into a corridor, speaking to the slightly stunned pilot. "Sorry about that. It's the medic's job to change the injured or the helpless during an alert, and since you've been here less than a day you count as helpless. The *entire* unit has to be changed and ready in less than a minute." Tinsel pulled him aside into a gunnery room filled with screens, planting him in a chair. She leaned over him. "These control base defense towers. Since you're a combat pilot you should do better than most of us, and we don't have your mecha ready yet. Watch your missiles. We've haven't got too many, and they're not easy to replace. I don't know if this is a drill or not, so I can't tell you more. But during one of our lull times I'll bring you in here and you can get used to the gun mountings. Since we had to build it all ourselves it may be a little non-standard. Now I have to go get sick bay up to status. If you have any questions ask one of the other gunners. Bye!" The pink-haired girl was gone out the door in a flash of leg and shapely heel. Richard turned to his controls, playing with dials. (commercial break) (fade out from black. Sound of computers, generators, springs breaking et. al. Camera first scene shows back view of Shelley as she tosses back a complicated device) Shelley was perched on the wing of a veritech covered in grease and sporting a huge remote control unit which she used to direct the motions of a massive hydraulic repair arm that was currently sealing locking joints into place, securing the wing to the body. Panther walked up underneath. "How long have you got?" He shouted. Captain Shelley yelled down her answer. "It'll take another half an hour at least. An hour if you want full transforming capability!" "Do your best!" He shouted over the machinery noise. "We've got reports coming in of some transports flying into our area!" He started to walk away but was caught by Jason Bytheway, who was in full flightsuit with helmet tucked properly under one arm. "Sir! I need that plane." Captain Panther shrugged. "Shelley is one of the best mechanical engineers in the Robotech Defense Force, pilot. She'll have your plane ready as fast as it can be done. Now I have to go deal with the fact that we have only one old Raider X for base defense and wonder how to make engineering destroids do the job. If you'll excuse me?" He started to walk down the hangar bay. "Sir!" Hamlin came running up, sprouting plans, which he plastered against the side of a vehicle to show to Panther. "We've got four of the mining lasers. I've already got a team pulling them out of the tunnels to get them up here. Say twenty minutes and we can mount an arrangement that will let an earthmover carry one." Captain Panther nodded curtly. "Do it." Two damsels in the uniform of the 122 were watching scanners in the command room. One of them checked her reading and spoke into the microphone on her headset. "Captain. We've got readings of three Zentraedi dropships coming down to our area. At a guess they intend to attack the dummy base. But they're landing outside the range of its automated weapons and I'm afraid that puts them right on top of us. They're going to land in the crater, sir. And sensors show them as being fully loaded!" His voice replied. "Have them cross the atmosphere shield, then hit them with everything. I want base defenses to put down those dropships with zero survivors, and jam them from the moment they cross the shield. We don't want their buddies finding out about us." In the gunnery room the maiden's voice came over the speakers. "Target's incoming. Three Zentraedi dropships, fully loaded. Captain's orders are to wait until they cross the camoflague shield and then destroy them. Use full weapon loads, aim for total destruction of the enemy." Telemetry data on the dropships appeared on their screens, tracking course, speed and the line that represented the energy shield that was the barrier they were to cross. "You sure they won't see the shield coming down?" Doolittle asked one of the other three gunners. "Did you?" Doolittle smiled, still focused on his controls. "No, I didn't. When we drove in I didn't see the shield at all until we were already through it." "Well then." The gunner concluded. The three dropships, not unlike giant metal circus tents in size and shape, though decidedly too grim to be non-military, came down into the crater already extending their landing legs. The grayness beneath them rippled and streamed away, revealing a green and fertile valley. Missiles streaked up to impact them from the high-tech fairy castle at the center of the valley. Guns began to speak to them from towers and from the single laser-armed destroid manning the walls. One of the transports immediately took several hits. Listing hard it tried to right itself and was consumed when a battery of missiles and laser energy found it at the same time. "Yes!" Doolittle cheered, focusing on his controls. Outside the two remaining transports dropped further, outdistancing the black cloud that was their former comrade. Both were belching smoke from several places on their hulls. One listed badly and began to fall sideways as the engines on one side gave up in a bright, but contained, explosion. For several precious seconds it looked like the third might land, but then the combined missile and laser might of the base overcame it and it roared like a gas balloon whose contents had exploded. Missile readouts in the gunnery control room all read zero. The gunners stood up to cheer but were stopped when screens flashed to show the damaged second transport impact hard but safely on the far side of the crater bottom. The gunners were back in their seats in a flash. Outside the crashed transport began disgorging battle pods and powered armor from rents and cracks as the transport itself fell under laser fire from the base. At least one bioroid, scarcely half as tall as its Zentraedi brethren, struggled free of the blaze before the transport itself was destroyed. In the command room the maiden was again speaking into her microphone. "One transport landed, approximately one hundred survivors. Standard Zentraedi power armor and battle pods, with one unidentified unit." Captain Panther was standing on a catwalk railing in a set of smooth, high tech (though unpowered) body armor. He addressed his ranks via loudspeaker. "Okay people! They've got us three to one and they've got guns! Just remember the strategies we've worked out and try not to get yourself killed! Pizza party at the end for anybody who comes back from this and double bonuses for keeping your friend alive! Go to it!" The ranks of the massive earthmover destroids began to move toward the exit. Their immense frames held enormous power, but they lumbered like heavy gorillas. In their hands were a hodgepodge assortment of welding machinery, rock cutting tools and tow gear. As they filed out one or two others could be seen in the background cutting large armor plates and bending them to shape. When they passed through the exit each destroid picked up one of the resulting armor shields. Outside the entrance the destroids bent low and hunkered into a lumbering run, scattering across the landscape in twos. The battle pods were even now emerging from the smoke and ruin that the defense lasers had made of their advance. One of the egg-shaped, legged assault units leaped high over the line. A destroid pointed its tow machinery at the pod and triggered. A grapple with a few hundred feet of tow cable fired forth and snagged the pod's leg, the reeling in motion interrupted its flight and the battle pod plowed facedown into the dirt. The destroid's companion heaved forward and brought down a mighty pickax blow onto the pod, which exploded alarmingly, not hurting the massively built construction destroid in the slightest. Zentraedi traded laser bolts with destroids slowly trying to engage them in melee. The base defense turrets were having a wonderful time with Zentraedi trying to fall back and gain a good firing opportunity. When the aliens became too focused on the melee destroids, the laser turrets got them, when they became too preoccupied with the guns, the ground units got them. And the earthmover destroids were solidly built enough that they were taking several deep laser hits from the Zentraedi without slowing down. No sooner was the flow of the battle apparent than the small bioroid began whizzing among the Zentraedi issuing orders. Soon the fast battle pods were ignoring the destroids entirely, focusing on moving past them and assaulting the castle and its defense towers. The larger, bulkier, and slower Zentraedi male power armor trudged up to engage the mighty earthmovers at close range, using their own range and slightly greater agility to stay beyond the hand weapon range of the earthmovers. From that moment the battle moved more in the Zentraedi's favor. One earthmover had it's leg frozen by a blast from a power-armor's chest cannon, then three others moved in to finish it off. The pilot fell and rolled while his buddy took a whack out of one with a rock cutter. The standing earthmover and his target were destroyed with concentrated, close-range laser blasts from the others. The remaining earthmover stood up and took out one power armor with a multi-ton blow to the head, shattering the helmet and causing a suit overload. Then the other two blew him away. In a separate part of the battle two earthmovers were set upon by a half dozen Zentraedi. The power armors used their guns to batter at the earthmover's shields, while the two destroids used their tow guns to snag the enemies one by one and draw them in. The comparatively lightweight Zentraedi were hauled in bouncing swiftly across the rocks and exploded when the earthmovers stomped on their power packs. From out of the entrance of the gatehouse four more earthmovers appeared, each carrying over his shoulder a huge mining laser and flanked by another earthmover with an armor shield. This new group spread out and began to use the lasers as artillery to destroy the Zentraedi overwhelming their comrades. When the blue bioroid dispatched several battle pods to deal with the menace the earthmovers with shields intercepted the attacks, covering for their laser toting friends. Battle pods raked the embasure where the lone Raider X destroid lurked. As the sole combat-type destroid at the base he had been enormously useful at first. Now enemy fire kept him mostly behind cover, dodging out to use his quad lasers to sweep and blow away a battle pod or two. Their return fire licked harmlessly over the cermaplast battlements that defended him, though one or two glowing holes in his armor told of the damage he'd received in his brief return assaults. Hamlin and two other earthmovers had picked up weapons fallen from the Zentraedi power armor, and were using them to sweep the field around them, blowing apart battle pods and power armor indiscriminately. The fact that they could take several hits served them well as the giant aliens commonly went down under a single blow. So in the game of trading fire they were taking out more than their number, though they were showing it in their streaks of melted armor. Then the earthmover on Hamlin's left exploded. The bioroid had streaked in personally to deal with their threat. For a brief few moments the two destroids were bears tormented by a hummingbird. Their weapons and arms so slow they could not get a bead on the fast moving assault unit. The second earthmover exploded and Hamlin was left alone to deal with the threat that he could not hit. He began to fall back, hiding behind his shield, trying to protect his mecha. The hulks of over half the earthmovers stood unmoving around the battlefield, their systems frozen and their bodies steaming. Zentraedi equipment lay in pieces all around them, but the survivors battling it out were outnumbered by the Zentraedi opposing them, and were already worn down. From out of the gates of the high tech castle streaked a fast moving form. It sped by the largest cluster of battle pods releasing multiple missile pods, blowing a dozen of the enemy units into scrap. Then it swung by raining fire and death down on the remaining power armor from a gun held in its hand. The unit was a standard strike veritech, missing several armor plates from one leg and trailing wires where its left arm should attach to the elbow, it flew above the battlefield in guardian mode, bringing with it the edge in speed that till now the earth forces lacked. Bytheway banked the veritech through a tight barrel roll and turn, sweeping two battle pods with his nose lasers and using his gun pod to blow up a third one. Hamlin found that he was backed up into the ore crushing device that his company used in their mining operations. His earthmover had lost one arm and his shield with it. The gun in his hand was smoking and shattered. He threw it down. Hamlin's destroid was on a belt loaded with other large rocks, slanted down a ramp into the crushing machine. The bioroid danced and wove before him, then, seeing he no longer had a weapon, stood still on a rock and began to fire into his chest. Metal started to smoke and pour. He triggered a call to base. "Base, this is Hamlin. I want you to turn on the ore-crusher." "Why is that, Hamlin? Over." His destroid flung a rock at the bioroid, luring it in after him. "Because I've got the little guy here with me and I've got an idea to take him out. Over." The massive machinery started. Hamlin struggled to raise his destroid's arm. His legs fell in the ore-crusher and his destroid started to shake as it was being devoured up toward its knees. He got the arm pointed. By now the bioroid was standing by watching as its prey was being devoured. Hamlin triggered his tow cable, firing it out it wrapped around the bioroid's body and tied it helpless, dragging it in to where both rocks and earthmover were being pulverized by the crusher. Hamlin triggered his ejection seat and was fired away as his destroid sank into the crusher, dragging the bioroid with it. (final commercial break) Shelley entered the medical bay as Panther was pulling off the mask of his surgical attire. "I would have helped, you know." He nodded. "You *did*. You got the veritech finished and our one combat destroid on line. What about the others?" She shrugged. "Four of those engineering destroids survived. I can repair eight others. The rest are too badly damaged. One even got pulverized in a rock crusher, I can't even identify the parts." He gave her a sigh, scrubbing his hands. "Throw them on the scrap pile, then. We'll use 'em for raw material." Shelley nodded toward the door of the surgery. "What about them?" Jeff smiled. "Nothing they won't recover from in a few weeks. Mostly burns. But we didn't lose anyone, just a whole lot of gear. And equipment is something we can replace." (end credits, first episode) Episode Two, *Replay of scene from first episode while voiceover summarizes what had happened.* Geoffrey Panther walked into the white corridors of the Lunar Command Center. Stopping by a convenient wall mirror he stuck the forked prongs of a small electrical device into his hair. With a wave of static aura his mussed-up mop smoothed into a respectable hairdo. He then headed to the lifts, pocketing the device. Jeff got into one of the small security tubes, then did something hard to observe to the security panel. The doors obediently slid shut and before he had pocketed the device the doors were opening on a new level. A receptionist looked up from his desk. "What are you doing on this level? This is a restricted..." "I'm here to see Major Richter." Jeff replied smoothly, walking up to the desk. The receptionist hardened. "I'm afraid she is in planning. No squadron leaders are..." Panther shrugged casually. "Then it's fortunate that I'm one of the squadrons she oversees personally. Call it in, corporal. I'm sure she'll see me." A light on the desk chimed. The major's voice could be heard. "Let him in, Stock. I've been expecting him." The doors swished open and Panther walked through calmly into the wide briefing chamber where Major Bianca Richter was standing, leaning over several displays. She looked up, smiling one of those smiles shared between friends. "One of these days I'm going to have to give you access to this level. Corporal Stock is going to have a fit over your being here." Captain Panther relaxed and leaned against the table, crossing his arms. "Your father would just cancel it again. You know how he feels about dirt-rakers having access to secure areas." He leaned back. " 'I don't know *what* we'd do if one of *those* types were to get up here!' " He jested. "Wouldn't it be terrible? I mean, those security types spend *so* much time and energy on security, but then forget that somebody has to install their systems." She smiled shyly. "Yes, almost as bad as if his only daughter was to fall in love with that kind of disreputable scum." Geoffrey made a face. "Ooh, wouldn't that be terrible now? Let's not even discuss something so awful in a room filled with concealed microphones." He gestured over the walls, but returned her smile warmly. "So, what did you call me here for?" "I wanted to pick your brain." Bianca replied. She brought up one the screens an overview of the area surrounding the city. A ring of outpost bases could be seen around it highlighted in white. A sizable wedge had been cut into the ring on the south, where the outposts were mostly red. She pointed to the board. "The enemy launched a crippling assault on our defense ring. As you know, we placed these just beyond the maximum distance at which an enemy could strike our city with any direct-fire weapon. Now there is this great big gaping hole. In two hours I have to brief the general and his associates on what's happened. That's the easy part. Then they're going to ask me for suggestions." The major turned to the captain, playing with her pointer. "So what do you think?" Panther stood and examined the board. "Only three outposts survived here?" He asked, pointing to the red area. Bianca nodded. "And you're one of 'em. The other two are destroid groups." He smiled. "Figures. First, I'd withdraw all veritechs except the scouts to launch stations just outside the city, replacing them in the line with destroids. The destroids are *good* at mixing it up close range and we can use the veritechs as a response force, which is what they're best at. Then I'd add a half dozen Mark-III laser turrets to *each* base on the line. Even the ones out here." He gestured to the rest of the ring. "Why?" The pretty young major blinked curiously. He kicked back on the table, still facing the map. "I think you can deal with one break in the line. But it would be mightily unpleasant if our enemy were to poke a few more in there. It's easer to send the equipment to *keep* the line intact than to try and rebuild it. Better add some remote targeted missile trucks to that. The indirect fire can be useful in hitting transports." The major was struggling. "Panther, that's *alot* of equipment. I don't know if I could. . ." She broke off when she saw his expression. He was examining his boot soles. "You have three resources. Time, men, and money. You're going to have to spend one of them. We don't know *when* the next attack is coming, so we can't spend extra time. People, we can hardly afford to lose. Equipment is the only thing left. Get the multiforges running again and build a few more weapon autofactories, because we *are* going to need them." He looked up brightly. "Which reminds me. I lost eighty percent of my unit's mecha in that last assault. I'm going to need to reequip." "Sure." Bianca signed a chit for him, now deep in thought. "Thanks!" He snatched the chit and hopped off the table, suddenly brimming with energy. "Anything else I can do for you?" She shook herself out of her daze. Then added a warm smile. "No." They leaned forward and shared a silent kiss, then Panther was out of the room and Bianca returned to her displays. Panther emerged from the lift fiddling with a little device in his hand. A girl in the markings of the 122 met him in the lobby. "So how did it go, sir?" He held up the chit for her to see. "Our beloved major was kind enough to sign for that equipment we asked for. C'mon, let's go gather the unit." The two ran out of the building. A pan across the barren lunar landscape. Craters upon craters intermixed with fallen battle machinery. Hulks and parts of cruisers litter the ground, the blasted ruins of landing ships and mecha. The view passes a range of low mountains, where there is revealed a cruiser mostly buried and lying in shadow. A cruiser where there is some movement. A Zentraedi lord in battered battle attire stood with arms crossed as the decrepit command bridge around him crawled with yellow and blue bioroids, welding, cutting and repairing the ancient consoles. The ceiling was hung with old wires that the labor bioroids had yet to cut down. A yellow bioroid stood up from its work, equipment and tools retracting back into its forearm housing. "It's ready to try, my lord." It informed him in its squeaky, simulated voice. The old giant turned to face the main vault of the chamber. In the empty air a rectangular hologram stretched and, with some little difficulty, sprang to life. Lord Kim, Supreme Master of the Robotech Lords gazed down upon his servant. He smiled mockingly. "Well, Gayron. How could it not be you? Tell me, what happened to all the *real* leaders? Where are Breetai and Khyron? Azonia and all of the *capable* field officers?" "Dead." The giant replied shortly and gruffly. "Or defected. The aliens employ a method of perverting our warriors to their side. I have kept my soldiers strictly away from it." The Robotech Lord laughed. "Oh, my. That one's rich. Cowardice as a winning strategy. In that case Gayron who else *but* you could have survived?" This abuse seemed to be having no effect at all on the stoic giant. The Robotech Lord recovered himself, addressing the screen. "Well my pretty little ugly thing, I hope you are enjoying the equipment I sent you. How did your warriors fare in the battle?" "We have stung the enemy." Was the giant's reply, standing taller in his shoes than the massive bioroids that milled around his feet repairing equipment. Lord Kim's face purpled. "Stung! My *dear* little maggot, I gave you enough new armor and battle pods to have *finished* that little city. You DARE to tell me that you have failed?" "Not failed." The giant shook his head, then repeated. "Stung." The Robotech Lord leaned back, saying, "I suppose I should forgive you. After all, this *is* the race who mysteriously defeated your entire armada a number of years ago. It would be only right to assume they have some special powers." Lord Kim leaned forward again. "Tell me, how *did* they do it?" "Mind control." The alien answered shortly. Lord Kim cocked an eyebrow. A petal left his face and he changed moods, growing almost as dark as the giant he commanded. "That is sufficient, Gayron." The transmission ended. On board the vast Robotech fortress that supported Lord Kim the leader turned to three of his subordinate Robotech Masters. "You will contact the masters of our mothership presently on the moon. Advise them that it would be wise to stage an attack against the humans immediately. The outcome of the attack is unimportant. But it is *vital* that they are to trick them into employing this mind control device at some point in the battle." (commercial break) "Wahoo!" The cheer echoed out across the tarmac as the hovertruck and rovers of the 122 swerved at high speed into the open doors of a waiting equipment hangar. Once inside the vehicles fanned out, braking to a stop in an open half moon facing a uniformed supply officer. Panther exited the cab of his rover and walked up to the man, grace evident in every movement. He flashed the chit. "I believe you'll find the orders for these items already approved. Here is final confirmation." The supply officer took the chit and scratched his head, looking at it. "Yeah, we have that order waiting. Just give me a minute while I check this. . ." As the short, overweight man was about to turn away to go back to his office Captain Panther asked the offhanded question. "So, what bay is the equipment waiting in?" The supply officer almost couldn't think that fast. "Huh? Bay 4, of course. Why. . . aaaaiiiieee!!" As if that had been the signal the vehicles tore off down the long hangar. The open rover slowed just barely enough for the captain to jump in its side. Panther yelled back. "Don't worry! We'll just verify it's all there and in working order, is all. You go ahead and do what you were doing!" As Panther slid into the passenger seat Sergeant Doolittle looked at him from where he was driving. "Uh, sir? Are you sure we should be doing this and all? I mean, won't we get in trouble taking it before all the paperwork's done?" The redheaded captain favored the driver with mild surprise. "Sergeant, I'm surprised at you. We aren't going to take so much as a bolt or a lugnut out of that bay before our friend back there gets done with his paperwork." The veritech pilot was squeemish. "Are you sure? Then what are we doing then, sir?" Panther leaned back in his cushioned chair. Crossing his arms and closing his eyes he spoke with a slight smile. "We are letting him *worry* about what we might be doing back here. Our friend will rush the paperwork so he can get back here and see for himself that we aren't stealing half the moon base arsenal. Our alternative was to sit outside his office gathering rust while he very casually confirmed everything. The wait would have been much longer, I assure you." The vehicles fanned out before the colossal closet that was holding bay 4, spilling out the people of the 122. Captain Panther hopped from his rover. "Okay, you all know the drill. Go do it!" With a roaring cry the members of the combat engineering corp ran to the entrance of the open bay and began spilling under, around, over, and into the vehicles waiting there. Power lights appeared on earthmover destroids. Engines started on missile trucks. A new hovertruck was unearthed and four combat engineers began to assemble and weld to its side equipment boxes matching those on their current truck (under the rim of the actual flat bed and adjacent the skirts, kind of tucked neatly into the side). "Situation report!" General Richter commanded as he stormed into the giant command center of the moon base. An officer saluted from her nearby panel. "Sir, the fleet reports approximately five ships of unknown type and origin have emerged from space fold and are closing on Earth. A sixth ship of the same type has diverted and seems to have landed on the far side of the moon. It *may* have been the source of those recent Zentraedi raids." The general tilted back his cap as he found his chair. "If they were Zentraedi ships we would have recognized them. And none of them were known to have *reflex* cannons, either. No, I'm afraid this is not them, Fiona. But they may well be allied to our giant invaders. It's possible they may even be the masters of those we have fought for so long. That would explain them bringing new equipment. The Zentraedi themselves are not innovators. They can't even repair their *old* equipment." "Our reports were consistent that several new, small units were involved in the ground attack." The general nodded, as if to himself. "Too small to have had a Zentraedi pilot. Not a full-size one anyway. They would have had to be human-sized, and the aliens have never done that willingly before. Only after they've become enamored of our culture and wanted to defect have any Zentraedi *willingly* undergone the process of shrinking to our size. They've *never* fought that way that I know of!" The junior officer spoke again. "Excuse me, sir?" An eye swiveled toward her. "Yes, what is it, Fiona?" The nervous officer replied. "Um, sir. The alien mothership is relocating. It appears to be lifting out of the crater and to be moving to a position not far outside visual range, sir. It's coming toward us!" The general sat up in his command chair like a shot. "Prepare all defensive turrets for IMMEDIATE firing! Begin feeding tracking data and open fire as soon as it comes within range. We don't want the enemy to come too close to our city. Contact Fleet and ask them to coordinate fire with us." Outside the huge environment dome of Lunar City, along a low perimeter wall, short, gatling-barreled defense cannons began lifting up out of their housings. Each gun large enough that the width of its multiple barrels almost equaled the height of the destroids standing about their feet, they swiveled to orient on the pinprick of light visible in the distance. Admiral Hunnington slipped into his command chair as alarms hooted in the background. He yelled at his lieutenant through the noise. "It's *moving* you say?" He waved his hand and the alarms cut off. "That's right, sir. The one on the moon is moving toward Lunar City. General Richter requests our fire support." The Admiral slumped. "But the rest of the fleet. . ." General Richter's face appeared onscreen, saying to someone off camera. "Put me through to him." Hearing from his subordinate that he was the general faced the camera. "Admiral Hunnington. We were hoping to have you assist us in beating off this attack." "But there are FIVE of those things heading toward Earth!" The Admiral shot back. The general replied very reasonably. "Admiral, the Earth has many times our strength, both in mecha and anti-ship defenses. Plus, these aliens are an unknown threat. Perhaps it would be better if you were to test your fleet's firepower against one of them before enganging five all at once." The Admiral sighed. "I'll think about it Richter, Fleet out." He then keyed communications off. The vast Robotech mothership entered range and a forest of beam cannons opened fire against it from around the city. The anti-warship guns spat out thousands of hyper-velocity energy shells per minute, and in spite of the vastness and the power of the Robotech mothership they began to chew tracks in its armor. In relation to its bulk the damage against the ship was insignificant, but there were many guns firing. Spiderlike traceries of energy began to form a honeycomb pattern defense shield before the massive mothership. Inside his command center General Richter was hampered by a dozen stations attempting to report to him at once. Over it all he yelled out a command. "Erect our defense barrier NOW!" Outside the city the reason for the double wall became apparent. Outside the skin of the beautiful yet vulnerable environment dome a shimmering blue field of force coalesced into existence, sheltering the entire city. Slightly outside of this impenetrable barrier lay the second wall where all the guns were mounted. Because they were outside the force field all the guns were able to continue to fire against the incoming target. The alien mothership lowered its twin horns toward the city. Energy crackled along their lengths as they built up the sympathetic reaction necessary for the firing of the most powerful weapon known to robotech science: A reflex cannon. The blast of the heavy beam seemed to send heat waves off as it soared across the moonscape and down onto the defensive barrier. The explosion erupted in a fireball of epic proportions, one visible from the Earth, and when it subsided Lunar city was still there, hanging literally over the edge of a new crater carved in the moon's surface. The foundation was partially undercut by the collosal new hole, but the city had survived. Although the force shield that had defended it flickered and died. Inside the city alarm klaxons were sounding. Inside the great hangar red warning lights began flashing on every wall, along with a recorded female voice announcing. "Attention. Emergency. All civilians must report to shelters immediately. Military personnel to your battle stations. We are under attack." The group looked to their leader. "We're new in town, boss. Where's our battle stations?" Doolittle asked. The whole group was poised for action. Panther looked up into their equipment closet, filled with unarmed destroids and non-violent machinery. He then turned and looked over his shoulder, in bay three. There was tape across the entrance, reading "Return to Storage." Inside were packed masses of combat mecha. The whole city shuddered as it endured the reflex cannon blast. Panther thumbed over his shoulder. "We've got our battle station right here, folks. Suit up." The 122 streamed past him at a running pace. Cockpits were entered and huge limbs began to move. In moments the first of the combat units strode out of the bay, followed soon after by many others. Captain Panther slid on a headset mike even as he was sliding into the seat of a destroid. "Shelley," he cued his radio. "Find out where the battle lines are being drawn, then gets us there. Best possible speed." "Damage Report!" General Richter shouted through the chaos of the normally peaceful command center. Lieutenant Fiona Lynn reported. "Our barrier was able to redirect or stop most of the force, general. But it has since failed. The main substation chief says that it won't be online again anytime soon. Approximately a third of our anti-ship guns were lost in the blast, sir." The general sagged into his chair, speaking. "Deploy ground squads. Prepare against a mecha assault. Launch all veritech strike squadrons and prepare to counterattack that thing!" Three Robotech Masters consulted with another set of three of a vast observation deck of the Robotech mothership. "They seem unusually resistant." "Only to be expected. They *are* the race to defeat our Zentraedi." One was thoughtful, rubbing his chin. "Their use of technology is impressive, but not surprising. Remember the prize we came here to claim. Undoubtedly they learned much of their technology from that." Another was nodding his head. "The personal battlefortress of Zor the Betrayer. They might have learned much from the prototypes left by the founder of our technology." Yet another master waved his hand in angry dismissal. "Regardless. That ship represents the last store of uncorrupted protoculture in the universe. It is vital that we reclaim it. Our own survival is at stake." (commercial break) The ranks of the 122 are revealed in serrated rows of heavily armed combat destroids squating behind cover outside the evirodome. On a scanner unit the approach of multiple, hostile units is being tracked. Captain Panther addressed his squad. "Okay everyone, same as before, but we've got guns this time. Which means we don't have to lure them into fist range. Take them out as far away as you can, then trade cover. Above all don't get pinned where they can hit you. Swim party for the survivors. Watch each others' backs." General Richter watched the screens in the now calm command center. "How many of them are there?" He asked, watching the inbound swarms of enemy mecha. "Not more than two thousand, sir." Lieutenant Lynn answered. He sighed in relief, dropping his head. "We can match their forces then, that's good." The female officer cringed, hating to bear bad news. "Sorry, sir. But so far not even half of our combat forces have reported to muster. My board's thick with reports of squadron commanders reporting problems getting their crews together and launched. We've only got a few hundred combat units on the battle line." The general looked at the monitors in terror. "May angels and ministers of grace defend us." (final commercial break) Episode Three *Replay of critical scenes from episodes one and two, to insure that newcomers are not lost* Tinsel dodged her light combat destroid out of the way of an incoming energy beam, pivoting to launch a round dozen missiles from one of her shoulder launchers. The flash of an energy beam nearly hid the bioroid coming in until its head was taken off by a particle cannon blast from an old Excaliber. Four bioroids leaped over a ridge from out of cover and were instantly disintegrated by a storm of lasers and missiles. "How are we holding?" Shelley asked Panther over a private comm link between mecha. "Surprisingly well." He replied. "Having lots and lots of guns is turning out to be an advantage to us." "You mean our enemy is lightly armed?" Shelley asked. "No, Kitty, I mean our design teams believe that you can only have enough guns when your destroid can't move anymore." "Oh." A nimble bioroid hopped up with its handheld laser, trying to get a shot at Tinsel's mecha, only to be torn apart by concentrated fire from a destroid looking to have at least a dozen cannons hanging from it's shoulders. On another section of wall a small host of bioroids blasted apart the last mecha defender and blew an entrance hole into the dome of the city. Only a small number got through before an automated bulkhead closed over the opening and turreted laser guns sprang out of the ground and began to drive off the rest. Monitors beeped and whistled as they tracked incoming data from the command lines. "Sir," Fiona called out. "Battle lines appear to be holding in sectors five, eight, seven and nine. But the mecha squadrons in sector three have been eliminated and the enemy has penetrated the city!" General Richter returned to his seat from pacing. "That's bad. What resources do we have available to deal with the intrusion?" She frantically typed some keys, calling up information decipherable only to her. "All of the reserve groups have been mobilized already to deal with the shortage of mecha on the outer defense perimeter, and still half of our squadrons have not fully responded to the call to muster!" The general steepled his hands in concentration. "Which sector is the most lightly engaged? And how many alien units got through?" More keys type as other officers brought up information in the background, dealing with related problems on a much smaller scale. The officer found her data. "Sector two is the most lightly involved. The attacks against them were heavy to begin with but they seem to have beaten off much of it. Only about thirteen of the invaders breached the city, automated defenses and reinforcements coming in cut off the rest, and they appear to be holding." The general stood, his nervousness apparent in his inability to keep still. "Send reserve groups out as fast as you can muster them. But pull one of our intact line units out of sector two and order them to engage the enemy inside our city immediately!" "Roger, sir." "C'mon, c'mon..." Panther urged, quietly teasing the enemy into a charge on their lines. The well-sheltered destroids were laying down thick fire over their foes, and incidentally drawing their attention totally to the hulking Earth mecha. As the besieged bioroids focused again on the line of destroids opposing them a pair of veritechs swooped out from the sky, sweeping down tracks of laser fire over the surprised alien mecha, blowing apart several and driving the rest out into the hail of fire from the anticipating ground forces. The firing came to an abrupt end as they ran out of things to shoot at. "Well, done, you two." Panther congratulated his pilots, even as he did so the communications screen lit up in Panther's cockpit with a different face. "Panther? What are you doing there?" Asked a very surprised blue-haired Major Richter. The captain shrugged inside his cockpit. "What can I say? When we automated all of the boring, repetitive tasks around the base we had to find *something* for the guys to do. I've required daily combat simulator practice for everyone, as well as exercise and martial arts to round out our tinkering. And we've been at it for a while now." The major blinked. "Oh. Well, nevermind. How did you get those combat mecha and what are you doing on the battle line?" He fought a smirk. "Well, we went to collect our new tools and shovels for our unit and just happened to be standing next to all this combat gear when the order came down for all military personnel to report for battle." The comm monitor went split screen, with a field commander's face filling the other half. "Major, I can vouch for this unit. I don't know what their problems are in the off time but on the line they've been invaluable, taking stress off of alot of my important people. Half my own units haven't shown up and a quarter of them are rabble, completely unorganized. These troops..." The commander began typing off-screen. "The One-Twenty-Second." Panther supplied helpfully. "Yes," the commander returned to face the screen. "To be honest I was going to recommend them to be decorated. They got here to the front lines before I did, and that's pretty hard to do." "Thank you, commander. I'll keep that in mind." The major allowed the commander's face to blink out and addressed Geoffrey full-screen. "I'm pulling you off from the line, captain." He nodded, resigned, the smile fading. "Will you listen to me?" She demanded, leaning closer to her screen. "It's *not* because of your performance or any disciplinary problems. We can discuss those later! Right now we have enemy units at large in the city and the general wants them taken out at once! You are to fall back immediately and engage them. And you to do it with a minimum of damage to the city. We're still going to have to live here, you know." He tossed a salute. "Roger that, major." Her face vanished and he switched over to the unit channel. "Listen up, you guys. The regular line troops can take it from here. We're being called back to deal with a problem inside the city. Tiptoe lightly through the craters and watch each other's backs as we get back inside. Shelley, get me a location. Everybody else, let's move!"