Disclaimer
I don’t own Macross. If I did, I would be far too rich to be bothered writing fan fiction.
Private Saro adjusted the binoculars. "Range is about two hundred forty meters. Four subjects in sight...three Zentran, one Microne."
Corporal Wog grunted. "Can you tell if the Microne is a Human?"
"I do not think so...wait. He just stepped out into the light. He is definitely Zentran. Skin colour is not human."
"Okay." Wog pulled out a walkie-talkie. "Wog to Borela."
"Borela here."
"We have confirmation of Zentraedi presence here, Lieutenant."
"Estimated force?"
"We can only see four, one of them Micronized."
* * * * *
Borela considered the report, then opened a channel to Tesch. "I need a secure link to Ghost Lodge."
Tesch grimaced. "Talk to Takemoto. The Defender’s got the long-range commo gear."
"Very well. Thank you." Borela tapped the console again. "Lance Corporal Takemoto?"
The Japanese woman’s face appeared on the screen. "Long range? You want satellite link?"
"If you can."
"Of course I can. Why do you think they sent me?" She chuckled, and re-oriented her mecha. "I’ll throw it on tight-beam, and encrypt it besides. There should be no way for the aliens to detect it, yes?"
"Yes." Borela nodded. "Just so long as Ghost Lodge can detect it."
* * * * *
"Subcommander!" Corporal Banat swivelled in his chair. "Micronian communications radiation detected, three kilometers away, sixteen degrees from magnetic north."
"Understood, Corporal." Subcommander Kibeji nodded. "Alert the first company, and have them close to engage."
* * * * *
Saro’s eyes widened. "Movement! Regult-type mecha, in company strength, with artillery!"
"Got it." Wog grabbed his walkie-talkie.
"Also one Nousjadeul-Ger...wait..." He dropped the binoculars. "Destroid!"
"What?" Wog whirled, to see the Tomahawk Destroid rising above them. He clicked open his radio. "Lieutenant, company-strength unit detected, including--"
The shoulder-packs on the Tomahawk popped open, and the mecha fired six rockets into the spotter’s position.
* * * * *
"Eyes Front to Ghost Lodge! We are under attack! Repeat, we are under attack and require immediate air support!"
Major Sutton stormed into the Command and Communications Center. "When did the attack commence?"
Private Kainer spun around in her chair. "About thirty seconds ago, sir, during a routine check-in signal."
Sutton grunted. "And what is the enemy force?"
"Approximately company strength spotted, sir, but Lt. Borela believes there to be a full battalion in reserve."
Sutton turned to Kosuji. "Who’s in that area?"
"Standard patrol, call-sign Scorpio. Janosky in Barak 103, and Pawlak in Barak 104."
"Call them in. Launch the Ready Five, and promote Ready Ten."
"Yes, sir."
* * * * *
"Ghost Lodge to Scorpio One. Say your state."
Warrant Officer Janosky clicked his mike. "Scorpio flight is two each Victor Foxtrot Four Alpha." He had the bird’s ordnance memorized, but doublechecked both the battle computer and his knee-board before continuing. "Six Jackhammer multi-role missiles, six Coral Snake air-to-air missiles each. Thirty-five tonnes reaction mass each."
"Fire mission, Scorpio. Your course is two oh three for five hundred. Drop to Angels Six."
Janosky grinned, and radioed his wingman. "Two, get ready for a bombing run."
* * * * *
"Ghost Lodge to Eyes Front. Two Lightnings are en route to your position. Call sign is Scorpio. ETA is one minute. We also have four Valkyries launching, but they will not be available for twenty minutes."
"Understood." Borela grabbed the overhead hatch on the AAR-2 and slammed it shut. "Twenty minutes," he muttered. "Might as well be twenty days. Roph! Man the machine gun!"
"Yes, sir!"
Four Regult Combat Pods broke cover, leaping into the air. Scutum 303, the Defender, immediately locked onto them and opened fire. The machine’s four precision pulse lasers blew right through the armour of the first pod, destroying it. The Defender’s gunner, Private Webb, traversed the guns and impaled a second pod. The battle pods hit the ground, only to find themselves immediately engaged by the Spartans.
Borela tapped the Tac Net controls. "Tesch, I want you to draw the Destroids back!"
"Understood, sir." Lucern 104 began to walk backwards. "Third Lance, fall back slowly. Cover Scutum 303."
"Roger."
"Okay!"
"Scutum 303. I have visual on an MBR Tomahawk. Appears to be a Mark VI." Takemoto’s gunner was already engaging the Destroid. "We’ll try to keep it busy."
A Zentraedi missile screamed into the clearing, slamming into the Defender and severing its left arm. A second missile struck the Destroid, knocking it down completely.
"Takemoto! Respond!"
There was a pause, then a click as Takemoto activated her comm system. "I’m okay...injured, but not seriously. Private Webb is not moving...I think he’s dead."
"Abandon the Destroid, Takemoto. Get Webb out if you can."
"We have to put an end to that Artillery Pod." Borela keyed the AAR-2’s engine. "We shall advance to the enemy position."
"You’re kidding!"
"Those fighters will need ground support to make their attack. We have got to get forward!"
* * * * *
Janosky pushed the nose of his Lightning further down, and flipped on his laser seeker. "Scorpio One is thirty seconds out."
"Roger that, Scorpio." The commander of the ground force was brave, there was no doubt of that; his signal came from within fifty meters of the enemy’s position. "I need six missiles, ten seconds apart, with a five-meter variance max."
"Not a problem. Start the music."
"The music is playing."
There was a cheerful beep from the laser seeker head, and Janosky smiled. He hurriedly punched the attack data into his battle computer, then opened a line to his wingman. "Two, get lined up."
"Roger."
The computer clucked, as he dropped the airplane into optimum attack posture. The ship bucked, as a Jackhammer missile was fired from its conformal mount.
"Breakaway!"
* * * * *
The Jackhammer slammed directly into the Regult Artillery Pod, converting it instantly into hamburger and steel wool. Borela let out a battle roar, then dragged the laser-dot across to the Nousjadeul-Ger Powered Armour.
The second missile arrived hot on the heels of the first, tracking on Roph’s Ground Laser Designator. It slammed into the midst of three Regult Battle Pods, scattering them like chaff. The third missile slammed into the Nousjadeul-Ger, tearing it in half.
"One’s off."
The four remaining Malcontent battlepods were not waiting around for the second part of the show. They broke for cover. Borela cursed, and shifted the ground laser designator to follow his target.
The second VF-4 dropped into its attack run. Borela’s radio crackled. "Two’s in and hot."
"MacDonald! Dammit, Bart! Answer me!"
"Naxos Two-Oh-Six is down and out, Sergeant."
"Lieutenant! Come in!"
"Borela here."
"This Destroid is chewing us up, sir! We’ve got him pinned down, but he’s knocked out Naxos 206. We need--"
"Negative breakaway!"
"Pawlak, get off target!"
"Two’s off. My ejectors have failed again."
Sergeant Tesch scowled angrily. "Dammit, we can’t dig this guy out, and we can’t close on him either. Scorpio, we need air cover here."
"Sergeant, you belay that."
"Fuck you, Borela! Scorpio, request immediate air support. The aliens are kicking our ass down here."
"Scorpio One, please assist the Destroid team. Scorpio Two, are you still combat effective?"
"Yes, sir. I’ve jettisoned my rack, but I’ve still got my cannons."
"Two, I want you to lay down a strafing column. Start at grid co-ordinates 54-25 and strafe to 57-35. Drop into Soldier afterwards to mop up."
"Roger."
"Nakamura, paint that Destroid for a missile strike. Scorpio One, two Jackhammers, please."
"Got it, Lieutenant."
"Hai!"
Scorpio Two rolled back into its attack corridor. "Two’s in and hot." The paired heavy pulse lasers on either engine mount of the fighter spat crimson energy, setting even the damp jungle on fire instantly and slicing right through two battle pods. The VF-4 reconfigured to Gerwalk Mode, altering its flight path to touch down in the clearing, then shifted again to Soldier Mode.
"One’s in and hot. Breakaway, breakaway!"
The earth shook under Borela’s feet, as Scorpio One’s Jackhammer missiles slammed into their target.
"Holy Christ, it’s still there!"
"Naxos 205, indirect fire, six rockets."
"SAM!"
"One’s hit! Surface-to-air missile fire, from the Destroid. I can still fly, but I can’t continue the attack."
"Go home, One."
"Aye, sir."
"Scorpio Two. I’ve finished off the last of the battle pods. There are some full-sized Zentraedi inside the hulk, with rifles."
Borela snapped on his radio. "Can you subdue them?"
"Maybe, but I’m likely to end up killing them."
"Do your best."
"Yes, sir."
"Lieutenant, that damn Destroid is still there. It seems to be out of rockets, except for its SAMs, but all we’ve got left is some laser-guided ordnance on Naxos 205. My particle cannons are overheated, and 206 is blown to hell."
"All right, Tesch, I am on my way." Borela shouldered his GLD and turned to Roph. "We should go back to the APC."
* * * * *
"Major? Barak 103 reports moderate damage due to missile fire. Battle computer is damaged, sensors are damaged, and left engine and laser cannon are damaged. Lieutenant Borela gave him an order to return to base."
"Understood."
"Hummer reports six unidentified aircraft, four hundred fifty kilometers out at bearing one-nine-two, their vector zero-eight-five at five hundred klicks. Shall I vector Peregrine Flight to intercept?"
"No. Eyes Front may need them yet. Track the aircraft as long as you can."
"Yes, sir."
Captain Roberts turned from her own monitors. "Major! Security breach in the Avionics Bay!"
"Oh, great!" Sutton turned to Roberts. "Who the hell’s in there?"
"Private Schiller, sir. Infantryman."
"Have him arrested. Toss him in the brig. Once this situation is dealt with, I’ll want to have a chat with him."
"Yes, sir."
* * * * *
The AAR-2 slid to a halt next to a small hillock, providing it with partial cover from the opposing Destroid. Borela popped the hatch and mounted the GLD on the forward pintle.
"Roph, pop the floor hatch. You may need to abandon the vehicle."
"Understood, sir."
He swung the infrared ground laser designator around until the Destroid was centered in its sights. The Destroid was crouching behind another hillock, and seemed much the worse for wear; the left arm was damaged, and the entire left-side weapons bay was gutted, but the machine was still fighting. Borela knew the Tomahawk’s limits, and knew that this machine was running out of options. But it still had more than enough firepower to finish off the U.N. Spacy Destroid team.
"Naxos 205, your target is painted."
"Got it, sir." Naxos 205 popped up and launched six rockets. The Malcontent Destroid took the opportunity to return fire with its remaining particle-beam cannon, hammering the Spartan with blue energy. The reactive armour on the Spartan flashed and sparked, sacrificing itself to turn aside the charged particles, and Naxos 205 ducked back down under cover.
The missiles slammed into the Malcontent Tomahawk, rocking it back, but failing to destroy it. Borela frowned. "That Destroid is using some non-standard form of armour. It is tougher than a normal Destroid."
His headset crackled. "Lucern 104. My particle cannons will be back on-line in thirty seconds. Any chance of Scorpio Two assisting us, Lieutenant?"
"Scorpio Two is cleaning out the foot soldiers, Sergeant." Borela drew his sidearm, checked the chamber, and re-holstered the weapon. "I shall engage the Destroid."
"WHAT?!?"
From the machinegunner’s position, Roph stared at his commander in disbelief. "Sir, are you insane?"
"No." He climbed out of the APC. "As soon as I start my attack, I want you to move the AAR out of the Destroid’s firing range. That means at least two miles, since it still has a functioning PBC."
"Sir, how are you--"
"MOVE, soldier!" He jumped down off the APC and charged the Destroid.
* * * * *
Tesch shook his head in disbelief. "That fucking crazy bastard! Taylor!"
"Sir?"
"I’m taking us up, front line. Use the guns, try and distract that thing."
"Yes, sir."
He shoved the throttle forward, kicked the foot-pedal that selected walking speed, and the massive war machine began stomping its way forward. His gunner haloed the enemy Destroid and opened up with the 50-calibre machine guns and 25mm autocannons.
* * * * *
His gamble appeared to be successful, so far. The Tomahawk, distracted by Tesch’s assault, completely ignored Borela, and he managed to reach the Destroid without being noticed. The service ladder was retracted, of course, but this didn’t slow him down.
The Destroid was kneeling to avoid cannonfire from Lucern 104, which made his life easier. Running up the front of the Destroid’s foot was not particularly difficult. Two small latches on the leg, placed there for maintenance reasons of some sort, provided the next foothold to boost him up to the mecha’s knee, and from there he leapt up to the massive beam that formed the Destroid’s waist.
Lucern 104 ceased fire, and began to walk backwards. The Tomahawk stood, and twisted at the waist to bring its particle cannon to bear. The sudden movement knocked Borela off-balance, and he dangled for a moment by one hand. He grimaced, and pulled himself up until he could brace one foot on the Destroid’s thigh, then pushed himself, one arm reaching out to wrap around a fragment of metal in the left weapons bay. From there it was a matter of seconds to climb up to the pilot’s hatch. He undogged the hatch, and jumped down and into the cockpit, catching the surprised pilot in the face with both boots.
He pulled out his pistol and pointed it down into the gunner’s station. "Hands up."
* * * * *
The Malcontent Destroid shifted to a kneeling position again, and shut down. Borela stepped up out of the hatch, dragging two bodies with him. One was obviously dead, ts head at an odd angle; the other had his hands tied securely together, and bound behind his neck. Borela tossed a thumbs-up to Lucern 104.
Tesch shook his head in disbelief. "I can’t believe it. The crazy alien bastard pulled it off."
"Seems that way, Sarge." Taylor chuckled. "You think you’re gonna regret telling him to fuck off?"
* * * * *
"Lt. Borela reporting in, sir. He states that all enemy forces have been defeated, and he has three prisoners in custody. Two Micronized Zentraedi and one full-sized."
"Understood. I want all three back here as soon as possible."
"Scutum 303 is heavily damaged and requires a salvage team. Its pilot is alive, but its gunner was killed. Naxos 205 was destroyed, its pilot killed. Naxos 206 is damaged, but Sgt. Tesch believes it can be repaired on site."
"Can we still divert Peregrine to those bogeys?"
"No, sir. They’re travelling too fast."
"Hm." Sutton twisted one end of his mustache between finger and thumb. "All right. Recall Peregrine."
"Yes, sir."
Sutton turned to Roberts. "What’s the story with Schiller?"
"He’s in the brig, sir, but the only response he’s given to questions is to claim Section Twelve protection."
"Intelligence?"
"Yes, sir."
"Bloody great. All we need is more spies." He sighed. "PNG him back to his home base." PNG was an acronym for ’persona non grata.’ "I don’t care what kind of bullshit story you have to give to get him out of here."
"Understood, sir."
* * * * *
"The aircraft are safe?"
"Yes, Kinota. They were not even detected."
"You’re certain of that?"
"Yes."
"Good." He paused. "What of the soldiers?"
"Wiped out, all but three. And none of the captured soldiers know the plan."
"A pity." Kinota turned back to look out over the harbour.
"Something tells me you don’t mean that, my friend."
"Really?" He chuckled. "Imagine that."
* * * * *