Part One Chapter One

Index

Part One Chapter Three

Disclaimer

Macross is owned by or licensed to lots of people - Tatsunoko Studios, Harmony Gold, Studio Nue, Streamline Video...note that none of them are me.

The same can be said of Ranma 1/2 - Rumiko Takahashi, Kitty, Shonen Sunday Comics, Viz Video. Not me.

I didn’t create any of them, and I certainly do not own them. Please don’t sue me.

"That was incredible! You were right, the Valkyrie is a lot more advanced than the Falcon. And it handles sweet!"

"You don’t fly mecha, you wear it." Fokker grinned, then gestured at the ship, visible outside the restaurant’s window. "Nearly impossible to recognize the old girl, isn’t it?"

"Actually, I don’t recognize her at all." Ranma considered the spacecraft, then smacked a fist down in his palm. "Wait! Isn’t that the alien ship that crashed? The one that put an end to the Global Civil War?"

"Yep. We’re just about done rebuilding her. You did boot here, and you didn’t recognise the visitor?"

"I was on the other side of that mountain."

"Oh, right. Forgot you can’t see the ship from that side."

They were interrupted by the arrival of the waitress. "Hello, can I take your order?"

Ranma glanced up at the girl. She was young and quite pretty, and seemed somewhat out of place in the Chinese robe she was wearing. Probably as out of place as I look in my own Chinese garb, he mused. "Uh, sure. Combo Plates Three and Six."

"I’ll have just two egg rolls." Roy leered up at her. "You busy after work?"

"For you, Roy...yes." She grinned and left.

Roy grinned at Ranma. "Not that I really want to catch her...she’s jailbait. Of course, you’re a fair bit younger."

"Not for me, thanks. I’m engaged."

"Really? Congrats. What does she think of you being posted here?"

"Uh...I dunno. It’s an arranged marriage. I haven’t even met her yet."

"Oh! They still do that kind of thing?"

"Only in traditional families. Like mine, and, I assume, hers."

"What’s her name?"

"Her name’s Akane. Apparently my father and her father engaged us before we were even born. I was supposed to meet her about five years ago, but five years ago was the first I heard of it."

"Oh. Well, good luck with it and all."

"Yeah..."

"You don’t sound very enthusiastic."

"Why should I be? I mean, I’ve never met her, and if her family has to go and engage her against her will--not to mention, mine--she can’t be worth much."

"Pretty harsh on her considering you’ve never met her."

Ranma sighed. "I just wish that maybe they’d talked to me about it. I can only imagine that she’s got no clue."

"So if you’re so against it, why are you even bothering to worry about it? You’re over the age of seventeen; all you gotta do is say no."

"But it’s a matter of family honour - giri - and so I can’t just dismiss it," grumbled Ranma. "I gotta do the right thing."

"Sucks to have a conscience. That’s why I never bothered with one. Well, maybe I can bring this conversation back to a more positive note."

"Can’t be too hard," Ranma snickered.

"I want you transferred to my squadron. You’re damn good, kid, and Skull Squadron is for the best. Now if you’re really set on being Two-I-See for Blue, I won’t push it--"

"Are you kidding? I don’t know what the hell the Detailer was thinking. There’s no way I could take even a second position in a squadron! I just don’t know these jets well enough."

"Give it time. When I think you’re ready for it, I’ll push you into a full squadron command slot."

The waitress returned, carrying their orders.

* * * * *

Ranma climbed out of the Valkyrie, sweat dripping off his forehead and speed jeans plastered to his body. It was incredibly hot, and being cramped into the Valkyrie’s cockpit was no fun.

Well, the flying was fun. But for such a large airplane, the cockpit was small, and the air-conditioning was scanty at best.

He had been at Macross for three months now, and had mastered all three modes of the Valkyrie. He despaired of ever becoming as skilled as Roy, who seemed to wear the mecha like a tuxedo, but he considered himself the equal - or better - of anyone else on the island.

Roy walked towards him from the direction of his own Valkyrie. The two had been playing hide and seek in the firing range, both in Gerwalk and Soldier Mode. Roy had proven to be a master of stealth in the Valkyrie. Ranma had only successfully haloed him once, but it seemed that his own RWR was pinging him constantly. And he had learned the hard way why the pilots referred to the on-board computer’s irritating voice as "Bitching Betty."

"Not bad, kid. I’ve not had a challenge in quite some time. Good news, by the way. The new cockpits are being shipped in today. The technicians will start retro-fitting the Valkyries tomorrow. With the exception of the D model, that is." He grinned. "Just think. No more jury-rigged instruments, no more thirty thousand foot ceiling, and no more sweating off a gallon in the tank."

"I am definitely looking forward to it."

"Oh, and more good news. We’ve got a new Commander Air Group."

"Huh? They replaced you?"

"Not really. Island’s fighter complement has gone way up, and they’re putting me just in charge of Skull, instead of Skull, Blue, Red and Green Squadrons. Six new squadrons being formed, so they decided they needed a full bird to be CAG. So they brought in an old war hero. This guy’s been flying since 1994, and he saw service completely through the Global Civil War. Hell, I once flew with him. He’s good."

"Better than you?"

"Don’t be silly. Funny thing is, though, I thought he retired some time back."

"I couldn’t stay away from the flying."

"Sir!" Roy saluted the man who had just spoken.

"At ease. Good to see you again, Roy."

Ranma appraised the man. He was tall, though still shorter than Fokker, and his hair was much longer than regulation. U.N. Spacy went a lot easier than JSDF on hair, but this guy had hair to the middle of his back. He sported a neatly trimmed moustache. A golden eagle perched on his lapel. Below it was the insignia of the U.N. Spacy. Opposite that was the name Tendo.

Ranma started. Tendo? Wasn’t that the name of the family he was engaged to marry into?

The Colonel glanced at Ranma. "Lieutenant Saotome, is it?" His greeting to Roy was English, but he switched to Japanese to address Ranma. "Your father spoke to me about your calling off your engagement."

Ranma winced. This was hardly the time or place for this sort of discussion.

"Um. Sir, I did not call off the engagement."

"Oh?"

"Uh, no sir. I merely stated that I was not ready for marriage at that time."

"I see."

An uncomfortable silence grew between the two men. Roy decided to break it.

"Ah, guys? Let’s go over to the Dragon for something to eat, why don’t we?"

* * * * *

"You are engaged to the daughter of the Colonel?"

The two pilots, having left Soun Tendo at the Dragon, were returning to the Bachelor Officer Quarters. Roy was shaking his head, partly in disgust, partly in amusement.

"You watch, you’ll have your own command before you know it. Probably be working as a test pilot within two years. Man, you are on easy street!"

"If you did not notice, the Colonel seemed less than pleased with me."

"Yeah, but still, you’re like family to him, right?"

"In a way. But--"

"I’ll drop it, Saotome. I can take a hint." Roy grinned. "I saw a picture of the Colonel’s family once. His wife was really pretty. I bet that his daughter takes after her."

Ranma scowled. "I thought you were going to drop this subject?"

"Okay, okay...By the way, you’ve drawn Hendrikkson for Destroid Training. Thought about what way you’re going with them?"

The Destroids were large, non-reconfigurable mecha. They were less humanoid than a Soldier-Mode Valkyrie, but each packed more firepower than a company of tanks.

"Yeah, the Spartan. It’s basically similar to the Soldier Mode Valkyrie. More weapons and armour, but less mobility. But it’s the closest there is."

"Yeah, I did Spartan myself, and Tomahawk."

"I don’t like the looks of the Tomahawk, it’s tooOOF!"

Ranma, upon rounding the corner, had collided with another person. Both were knocked down. Ranma shook his head and stood slowly.

"Clumsy oaf!"

"Huh?"

Ranma looked at the person he had collided with. It was a Japanese girl, rather short, with long hair. She was dressed in a jogging fleece set, and was scowling at him from the ground.

"Sorry ’bout this. I should have been watching where I was going." He held out a hand to help her up.

She ignored it. Her scowl deepened. She stood and glared at him, then resumed her jogging.

"What a wonderful, cheerful person. Such a marvellous personality." Roy glanced in her general direction. "Nice ass, too."

"Whatever."

* * * * *

He saw the girl the next day, in the chow line.

"Hi."

She looked over at him. The scowl returned.

"Look, I’m sorry for running into you yesterday."

The scowl remained.

"Uh...you weren’t hurt or anything, were you?"

"Let me make this simple for you, fly-boy. I’m not interested."

"Huh?"

"You guys seem to think that just because you’re wearing a uniform means that all the girls will just come flocking to you."

"NO! I mean, I think you’ve got the wrong idea! About me, that is. I’m engaged! I’m just trying to be friendly!"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah! Calm down already, okay?"

She glared at him for a moment more, then seemed to deflate.

"All right. I’m sorry for being so mad at you. But I’ve been hit on by almost every guy since I came on base."

"Ah. Are you U.N. Spacy?"

"No, but my dad is. He’s posted here."

"Oh. So that’s why you’re here."

"On base?"

"More specifically, in the chow line." He held out his tray, and the cook dropped some so-called food on it. "Of course, you could eat at the Dragon, rather than here."

"Can’t afford it tonight. Normally my sister handles the cooking, but she’s sick, and Dad doesn’t get paid until tomorrow. But him and his family get meal rations like anyone else. Normally, it’s put into fresh food, and Kasumi cooks."

They had reached the table, and sat down opposite one another.

"Can’t you cook?"

She glowered at him, then relaxed. "I’m...not very good." She looked down, and picked at her food.

"Oh."

"So, what’s your name?"

"Saotome Ranma. And you?"

-CLATTER-

He looked up, and saw that she’d gone pale as a ghost. Her fork had dropped out of her hand and landed on the floor.

"I...I’ve gotta go...nice meeting you."

And she was gone.

Ranma frowned. "What the hell...?"

* * * * *

"Hi, Minmei!"

"Hi yourself, Saotome!"

Ranma dropped into the booth bench in his customary corner. Roy dropped into the seat across from him. Normally, they shared this booth with two other pilots from Skull, but today it was just him and Roy. Ranma had just completed a series of complex manoeuvres as part of the Launch Day Celebrations. Roy had run into an old friend as well, a young man he had referred to as "Little Brother". Despite the fact that Rick Hunter was half Japanese, and not even related to Roy. Rick was a good pilot though, and had paced Ranma’s Valkyrie in his little turbofan airplane.

"The usual?"

"Yep."

"Sorry, I’m off today. I’m going to catch the rest of the show!"

She ran out the door.

Roy chuckled. "One of these days she’s gonna make a really good waitress...but she ain’t there yet." He tossed a thumbs-up to Ranma. "You did shit-hot out there today, kid. But when did you forget to check six? Rick coulda shot you down if he’d had a gun on that firecracker of his."

Ranma shrugged. "I saw him. He was obviously no threat, so I kept formation."

"Yeah, right. More likely you were just taken by surprise. Rick’s the only guy I know brave enough to put solid rocket boosters on a fan jet. Oh, I got your performance evaluation from Hendrikksen on your Destroid training. He says he might have a spot for you in the Third Armoured Cavalry if you ever get bored with Valkyries."

Ranma snorted. As if a fighter pilot would ever condescend to join a mud-mover brigade. "No thanks. I like the Skull far too much. Especially now that I’m a flight leader."

"It ain’t official yet, hot shot. Not until Hayes clears it. But I think you got it made. I’ve been polishing Kramer for his own command for a while now."

Ranma looked up as another figure dropped into the seat next to Roy. Roy glanced at the older man sitting next to him. "Sorry, old-timer. That seat’s reserved for Skull Squadron pilots only."

Ranma grinned. "He can sit there, Roy. Hey, Pop. How’s it going?"

"I am well, son."

"This is your father?"

"Yeah. Roy Fokker, this is Saotome Genma. Father, my commanding officer and best friend, Captain Roy Fokker."

Roy bowed. As best he could from a seated position.

"You’re Ranma’s CO? The legendary Roy Fokker?"

Ranma’s eyes shot through to his hairline. "Waddaya mean, legendary? Something you’re not telling me, sir?"

Roy grinned. "Well, I kinda led the first mission into the visitor."

The elder Saotome grinned. "Yes...I was also on that mission."

"Really? Oh, yeah, now I remember you! I didn’t recognize you without hair." Fokker grinned at Ranma. "You’re lucky, kid. Your old man is the only one besides me and Lang that got out of that alive."

"Pop? You, in the military? In the Global Civil War?"

"Yes, I was part of the Japan Self Defence Force, Marine Division. I was posted to the Kaneda. Damnedest thing you ever saw. We had a Russian Captain, an American CAG -" he gestured at Roy "- My CO in the marines was Japanese, the Chief Engineer was British and the Scientific Envoy was German. All five of the major powers from World War II, on one boat."

"Hey, Genma. Captain Gloval’s been put in command of the Macross."

"Really? He runs a very tight ship. He’s a good choice for that thing."

Roy chuckled. "Yep. And Emile Lang is still around as well. Always thought that was a damn silly name for a German."

"I think his family originally came from Belgium, in Flanders."

The bells above the door rang. Roy glanced up, then gestured across the room. "There’s your mystery girl again, Saotome."

Ranma looked over, and sure enough, there was the girl. She had just stepped into the White Dragon, but upon spotting Ranma, turned and fled. Ranma had seen her three times in the last month. Once in the chow line again, once at the Dragon, and once in the shopping district. Each time, he had tried approaching her, but she had run off. Usually insulting him as she ran.

Genma had turned and looked to the door. "Oh, her?"

Ranma looked up. "You know her?"

"Yes. Actually--"

"Whoa. What the heck?" Ranma was looking out the window at the Macross. The ship’s prow was splitting apart, two massive cams rotating twin booms away from each other. Moments later, energy started to crackle between the two booms.

Roy glanced up. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me. If they fire that gun right now--!"

A flood of energy blasted away from the ship with a thunderous roar. The beam tore through the mountainside, and leaped skyward as it pulled away from the curve of the earth. It took less than five seconds after the sound of the main gun died away before the air raid sirens started up.

"Oh, damn. Kid, they’re playing our song. Nice to meet you again, Genma, but get to a shelter."

The two pilots jumped and ran from the restaurant.