Subject: [FFML] [ffml][fanfic][Robotech/others]Hero's Journey: Rouges and Intelects
From: Andrew Wilson
Date: 5/13/2000, 2:11 PM
To: ffml
Reply-to:
templar@softcom.net

 

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Before we begin this, I want to make a something clear.  I have not seen the Americanized anime Robotech in years, and I have never seen the original three anime shows it was made from.  The information on said universe used for this story comes from three sources.  The first is what I remember (I would rent the videos, but I don't have the time, I can't find them, and I have no desire to put up with Minmei again), the second is the fan pages on the 'net, and the third is the RPG from Palladium Books.  For the post-Reflex Point events, I have to rely on the RPG since that's where the series ends.  In this case I used the fan supplement "Third Invid War" by Dave Deitrich and Chris Meadows for much of it (if you play the RPG, I recommend it).  Not the best sources, but better than the "everything I know I learned from fanfics" excuse.  Oh, some stuff also comes from the McKinney novels, though anyone who mentions book 18 in relation to this fic (or anything else for that matter) will be shot.

Once again, many thanks go to my pre-reader Mark Engelbert.

Other chapters in this series avalible at http://home.earthlink.net/~tannim/index.html.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to their original creators, and are used without permission.  This writing is for recreational purposes only. (Duh!)

Hero's Journey
By Andrew Wilson

Prologue: Gathering Forces
Part 1: Rouges and Intellects

<2029, a remote corner of the universe>

The sleek bulk of the REF carrier glided through deep space.  On the observation deck, Captain Richard Cortez stared at the endless field of stars.  He was young for the post he held.  Still well shy of forty, he commanded over a thousand crewmen of the Hyperion.  He was also tasked with the protection of the over five thousand other military personnel on board.  Even so, he maintained that it was the paperwork that was turning his black hair gray at the temples, not the stress, or responsibility.

Without turning, he could tell that his XO was standing by the bridge access ladder.  "What is it, Paul?"

Commander Paul Wagner walked up to the captain and handed him what looked like an overly thick clipboard.  In reality it was a display device, developed to reduce the need for paper, since space and supplies are at a premium on a starship.  "Sir, the sensors have completed their survey of this area, we're ready to proceed to the next waypoint."

Cortez didn't answer.  Their mission seemed to be an insult.  With the few fighting ships the REF had in this sector of space, sending one out on a scouting mission seemed odd, to say the least.  Of course, Cortez's orders were not just for a mapping expedition.  He was also to find any remote Invid garrisons and destroy them, and to befriend any cultures also fighting against the Invid menace.  At the moment, the REF could use all the friends it could find.

He handed the display back.  "Very well, inform engineering to prep the spacefold system."

"Yes, sir," Wagner saluted and left his captain to his musings.  Cortez studied the stars for a while longer, then went down to the bridge.  It was an interesting feeling for him, knowing that the stars would be different when he next looked at them.

*******

With a ripple of distorted space, the Hyperion emerged in another star system.

Right on the edge of a very large firefight.

"Sensors," Cortez barked, "what's going on out there?"

"Sir," the lieutenant at the sensor station replied, "it appears to be an Invid fleet."

"I can see that, who are they fighting?"

"Hard to say sir, looks like a small group of unknowns, about six large ships and maybe twice that many small ones.  Judging by their performance, I'd say that they are the equivalent of first or second generation Earth starships."

Cortez studied the tactical board.  "So why aren't they getting slaughtered?"

"I don't know, sir."

Suddenly, the unknown ships changed formation.  Cortez could see it was a trap, but for some reason the Invid scouts and troopers could not.  It was only a matter of time until there was nothing left of them but twisted metal and green goo.

That left the carriers and the cruiser.  "Launch all fighters, target the Invid capital ships."

Patricia Drake, CAG on board the Hyperion, began calling down to the fighter bays, then looked up at the captain.  "What about the unknowns?"

"Tell the pilots not to engage, and to pull back if engaged."  The CAG nodded, then continued issuing orders.

Wager came up to the board.  "What's going on?"

Cortez smiled.  "I once saw Dr. Lang face off with Admiral Hayes in a game of chess.  He took a handicap and went without his queen and rooks.  Even so, he still was able to beat her in about twelve moves.  That's what's going on here."

A slight rumble was felt through their feet as the hanger doors opened below.  The status displays indicated the first Veritechs were launching out of the side bays, converting to fighter mode and rocketing toward the Invid formation.

A thought occurred to the Captain, so he turned to the CAG.  "Who's in command out there?"

She checked her board, then paled. "Lieutenant Marshall."

"Uh-oh.  Contact him, make sure he understands not to engage the unknowns."  Todd Marshall was one of the most reckless pilots in the REF, and also one of the most skilled, hence his call sign "Maniac."  He had been kicked out of Skull Squadron for unknown reasons (he claims that Max Sterling was scared of his skill, others say insubordination), and assigned to the Hyperion as commander of Bravo squadron.  

At the moment, he was arguing with the CAG, which might earn him yet another demotion (he would hold the rank of commander, maybe even be CAG himself if he hadn't gotten busted so many times).  "Do you copy Bravo One? You are not to engage the unknowns... I don't care if they shoot first, this is a first contact situation...  No, don't even go near them.  Do you understand?"  A frustrated growl escaped her lips.  "Good.  Out."  She looked up at the Captain.  "He knows."

"Nice to hear.  Inform the assault wing that when the furball starts, the Beta fighters are to concentrate on the carriers, with their Alpha partners flying cover."  Cortez turned to the helmsman.  "All ahead flank. Gunners, I want that cruiser dead."

*******

The Invid battle cruiser resembled a demonic cross between a terrestrial crab and a three headed dragon.  Seeing a challenger approaching, the brain controlling the ship oriented all of it's armament at the carrier and opened fire.  Lances of energy were exchanged.  Balls of plasma were met with volleys of missiles.  Those shots that broke through the exchange impacted shields.  Neither side gained any advantage.

While the two behemoths fought, the smaller ships were tied up in a furball of their own.  Alpha fighters mixed it up with scores of crab-like mecha while Beta fighters unloaded their ordnance on the clam-shaped carriers.

Maniac was in his element.  His wingmen had long since lost track of him in the ever-growing dogfight, but he didn't care.  None of the Invid could touch him.  Each and every shot from his fighter's guns hit their target on the nose, quite literally.  The Alpha danced with the crab-like mecha, a dance of death.

*******

Another shudder ran through the deck as a ball of energy hit impacted the hull before the operators of the pinpoint barrier system could respond.  Cortez turned to his weapons officer.  "Is the main gun charged yet?"

The man nodded. "Ready sir."

"Fire."

*******

A warning buzzer sounded in the helmets of any pilot who was in the line between the Hyperion and the target.  They knew the drill, and quickly exited the area as the carrier's bow began to glow.

While not nearly as powerful as the legendary main gun of the SDF-1, the main laser cannon of an REF carrier was more than enough to overload the Invid cruiser's shielding, and put a good sized crater in it's hull.  The crater was made larger as all weapons converged at that point.  Within seconds, the cruiser was drifting dead in space, cut in two.

The Invid carriers soon joined the cruiser as floating hulks, and the remaining mecha were gone as well.  While the battle ended in victory, there were still casualties.  With trained precision, the search and rescue shuttles launched to recover what, and who, they could.

*******

"How'd our new friends do?"

The sensor operator swiveled his chair to face the captain. "All their ships are intact, with minimal damage."

Cortez whistled.  "Impressive."

The communications officer, a Tirolian linguist named Jerrix, spoke up.  "Captain, sir, we have a transmission coming in from those ships."

"What are they saying?"

"I'm not sure yet." Jerrix screwed his eyes shut as he concentrated on the words coming through his earpiece.  Several salutations in more languages than Cortez though possible for one person to know were exchanged over the next few minutes before Jerrix's face brightened.  A steady stream of, to the rest of the crew, nonsense words flowed out of his mouth.  Pausing for a moment, he turned to the captain.  "The leader of that force out there is asking permission to meet you, sir.  He wants to express his thanks for our help."

"Permission granted.  I want Delta squadron out there for escort duty, and put security on standby, I don't want any screwups."

"Yes, sir," the bridge crew chorused.

Cortez turned to the Tirolian.  "Jerrix, I need you with me when we meet this guy.  You can speak to them, and my training is in intelligence, not diplomacy."

"Of course, sir."

*******

The shuttle wasn't much to look at.  Barely larger than the Alpha fighters flanking it, the shuttle was a simple flattened cylinder, tapering off at the bow.  It was relatively fast, though, and soon after launch had docked in the Hyperion's main hanger.  

The aliens were odd, but not overly so.  Generally human in appearance, the bluish tint to their hair and light blue skin set them apart.  What was disturbing, though, was their eyes.  Solid, glowing, red eyes.

There were three of them, a leader and his escorts.  To Cortez, the leader seamed to radiate a type of power, and confidence.  The escort just looked dangerous.

The leader stepped up to Cortez, and began speaking to Jerrix in the same language the linguist had used earlier.

"Captain Cortez," Jerrix slipping into his role as a diplomat, "I present to you Commodore Mitth'raw'nuruodo of the Chiss defense force."  After Cortez tried to respond, the alien commodore said something else to Jarrix.  "He also says, sir, that for ease of pronunciation, he would prefer you use his core name, Thrawn."

[Authors Note: Muhuwahahahahaha- *hack**cough*]

*******

<2038, Tirol orbit>

They had won.  The Invid Regent had been killed six years before, and with him died his race's control over the region.  Peace had been restored, with one small problem.

The Invid had invaded Earth.

Rick Hunter stared at the scouting reports.  The recon fleet sent two years before had been destroyed, no known survivors.  The only other thing the recon ships had been able to find was the location of the primary hive complex, code named Reflex Point.  In anticipation of the assault, all but a handful of ships were gathered in the space above Tirol, ready to help the humans who had brought freedom to the region reclaim their own homeworld.

"It's going to be bloody," Lisa asked from across the table, "isn't it?"

"That's an understatement.  Most of the encounters we've been in so far have been a few dozen of us against a few hundred of them.  Later on, we've had a few hundred against their thousands.  Now, it's going to be a couple thousand against millions.  I'm not even sure we can pull it off."

"Well, we could always ask..."

"No," Rick shook his head, "I have other plans for him."

"Spacing is not an option, dear," Lisa laughed.

"Actually," Rick glared back, "I'm thinking of leaving him in operational command of the forces we leave behind."

"And a third star to do with it?  Anything to keep the two of you off the same ship?"

Rick smiled.  "Glad to know you can still read my mind."  he punched a button on the desk.  "Patch me through to Admiral Thrawn."

*******

Thrawn was looking far too relaxed for being in the same room as the REF CINC's. "Have you decided how you are to take back your homeworld?"

"Well," Lisa commented, "the idea of using the SDF-3's main gun on the hive complex makes the most sense."

"I see.  And what if the fortress is disabled before it can get close enough to commence bombardment?"

"We'll deal with that problem when and if it occurs," Rick growled.

"Admiral Hunter, with all due respect, I suggest that you make those plans.  A good strategist never relies on luck.  And luck is precisely what you will need if the SDF-3 is ever disabled.  Your tactics rely on it far too much."

Lisa interrupted the argument.  "Don't start this again.  Thrawn, High Command has decided that you would be the best choice to be in command of the remaining forces on Tirol once the assault group launches."

"Leave me with less than five percent our functional fighting ships?"

"You have any objections?"

Thrawn smiled.  "Come now, Admiral Hunter, there is no need to be so confrontational.  I have no objections.  As you may have observed, the upcoming battle will have high casualties.  I take it my task will also be to rebuild the fleet from any loses it may receives?"

"Correct."

"Very well," Thrawn rose.  "Admiral Hayes, Admiral Hunter, I will begin plans for such contingencies.  Good day."

"Wait a moment," Lisa said, stopping Thrawn.  "Rear Admiral Mitth'raw'nuruodo, I have the pleasure of informing you of your promotion.  Congratulations, Vice Admiral Thrawn."

A slight smile crossed Thrawn's face.  "Thank you, Admirals.  If only the sentinels council could be as enlightened as you two."

******

<Three weeks later>

Thrawn watched the replay of the battle.  The Ark Angel had presented the recording to High Command when it stopped at Tirol for supplies.  With a sigh, he turned to the other man in the room.

"What do you think of this, Captain?"

Even after almost ten years serving under Thrawn in one form or another, Cortez still felt nervous in that red-eyed stare.  After Cortez commanded the Hyperion for four years, he was transferred to the Admiral's personal staff.  His training, and title, is that of a fleet intelligence specialist (why he was considered for command in the first place is still a mystery to him).  Actual practice, though, indicated that he was Thrawn's second in command, and whispered rumors placed him as the Admiral's protege.

"Well, sir, I can't say that I'm very pleased that my first, and only, starship command is floating scrap metal," Cortez admitted. "I also find the Invid withdrawal rather ominous.  So far, Earth is the only place that can grow those flowers they use for food-"

"Which we also use, in a way, for fuel."

"Quite right, sir.  As I was saying, Earth is about the only place where the flowers grow in abundance.  Opereta can barely support life, and the other worlds in this region either won't grow the bloody things, or the soil composition will mutate them.  The hydroponic greenhouses here are enough to keep up with demand, but not much else."

"Very good, Captain.  The reports that Lieutenant Bernard gave us tell very little of the Invid's reason for leaving Earth.  There are two options.  One is that they will find a new homeworld, and settle there.  The other option is that they will return to Earth.  I believe that they will do both.  However, when they do return, I doubt that the Regis herself will be there.  Our attack has proven her vulnerability.  Therefor, she will take her brood to a remote location, then send caretakers to Earth to retrieve the plants."

"Would you like me to schedule a meeting with the ruling council?"

"Yes, as soon as possible.  We have a fleet to rebuild."

*******

<2044>

Cortez sighed, fingering the insignia in his hands.  Six years before, Thrawn had all but demanded that the ruling council allow him free reign with rebuilding the fleet.  They refused, stating that the Invid threat had ended.

Contact was lost with Earth, and they still did not listen.

Then, four years before, two colonels named John Korcheck and Roger Harris suggested that a recon force be assembled, and possibly followed by a larger assault force.

Then they agreed.

Cortez had no illusions that the initial refusal was anything but a snipe at Thrawn's utterly alien heritage.  The only people in REF high command that had trusted Thrawn were Breetai, who was killed in the assault on Opereta over a decade previous, and Admiral Hayes, who disappeared with the SDF-3 six years before.  None of the others had ever been able to see past Thrawn's blue skin and red eyes.  Or rather, none could see past the threat those eyes could represent.  His authority dwindled over the years, leaving him with very little influence with the ruling council.  Even that influence, among the non-humans on the council, was disappearing.

Cortez had once asked Thrawn why he tolerated the discrimination.  The Admiral's reply was rather simple.  His people were protected by the REF, and he would serve as long as his people were safe.  If stability and safety for his people were achieved, what did pride matter?

Of course, his attitude didn't help much either.  Towards the end of the Sentinels war (now being called the First Invid War), a carrier that Thrawn was commanding was nearly destroyed because of an incompetent sensor operator.  If Thrawn had not been in command, all might have been lost.  After the battle, the operator was asked to explain his actions, and was then spaced.

Back to the rank in his hand.  Rear Admiral (lower half).  He had received it soon after the battle of Reflex Point.  Now, Admiral Thrawn was planning to take direct command of a special ship in the "Icarus" recon group.  Cortez was about to use all the influence he had to transfer his Special Operations command to Thrawn's ship.  He may loose his flag rank, but it would be worth it to serve under one of the last true warriors in the universe.

*******

"Well, well.  Admir... I mean Commodore Cortez!"

"Maniac?  You're still alive?  Who'd you bribe to make captain?"

Marshall smiled.  "Of course I'm alive.  You think anyone could kill the Maniac.  Not only that, I'm gonna be CAG for this trip."

"I didn't think you had that much money.  Who are you blackmailing in high command?"

"High Command," Thrawn said, walking through the door, "does not care about who goes on this mission.  It's regarded as a waste of time."

"What?" Both men exclaimed.

"I was able to take command of this ship due to my rank.  All transfers were approved because High Command is eager to get rid of me."

"What is our mission sir?" Cortez asked.

"This ship, the Hephestus, is an experimental design.  While it appears to be a normal Ikazuchi class carrier, the interior has undergone heavy modifications.  Inside is now a micronized factory similar in function, though smaller in scale, to what was on the SDF class ships.  Also, there is one of our experimental protoculture production engines in the factory.  The hanger bays have been reconfigured.  The main hanger and launch bays have been moved to decks two and six while decks ten through twelve are mostly hydroponic bays and raw material storage."

"And the smaller crew makes room for those Invid flowers to be grow."

"Very good, Richard.  Now, perhaps you can deduce our mission."

Cortez thought long and hard.  Thrawn would often test him, see if he could think through what the Admiral could do in seconds.  "First of all, you seemed to pick the most unconventional thinkers in the REF."

"Including yourself," Thrawn commented, "or have you forgotten your own unit."

Cortez smiled.  "Special Operations was founded on doing the unorthodox.  Some of my troops could take out a hive with a handful of cyclones.  With that in mind, I would say our mission is going to be something long term in the Sol system, with little support.  Or, rather, we are the support."

"Wait a minute," Maniac said. "How can we do anything near Earth, those scouts say there are a bunch of killer stations in orbit.  Not to mention the new kind of mecha that's death to anything in space."

"We will be setting up a base in the asteroid belt," Thrawn explained. "From there we can send small missions to drop supplies onto Earth, with the asteroids providing the resources we need.  We need to support the resistance movements there.  To that end there must be a source of mecha, including heavier types and shadow fighters.  Cyclones and a few scattered Veritechs will not be enough."

"And," Maniac commented, "in addition to the hardware, you wanted people that, like you, could beat any odds thrown at them.  Not to mention those without connections outside other crewmembers."

"Correct.  To that end, the ships complement includes the reconstructed Wolf Pack as a ground complement.  Also, there are three fighter wings, superiority is covered by Rogue wing, Cerberus wing is tasked with heavy assault, and Nova is our wing of interceptors.

"A stripped down Carrier with six joint Alpha Beta squadrons, and an extra three squadrons of Alpha's, against whatever space forces the Invid have in the system?" Maniac grinned. "Sounds like fun.  When do we leave?"

"The Icarus mission leaves in three days.  We will be the last to make the fold.  All the crew should be on board early tomorrow."

*******

A mission of aid planned and executed by one of the greatest strategic and tactical minds in any universe.  If everything went as planned, a long and brutal war would have been drastically shortened.

Too bad fate had other plans.

*******

<Three days later>

"Commodore, is my flagship prepared?"

Cortez turned to Thrawn's command seat.  "The Hephestus is fully at your command, Admiral."

"Very good, engage the space fold system."

In the engineering compartment, the carrier's engines prepared to give the metaphorical finger to conventional physics.  On the bridge, the stars began to ripple as point A and point C in space was connected without going through point B.  Then things began to go wrong.

The first indication of a problem was the unnatural blue glow that surrounded the ship, and the arcs of lightning tracing the hull.  Before the fold could be aborted, the ship vanished.  To the controllers on Tirol, it was a haunting reminder of the SDF-3's disappearance six years before.  

Those inside the ship received a taste of what it would be like to go over Niagara Falls in a barrel.  The only ones on the bridge not in danger of tossing their cookies were Maniac, who was having the time of his life, and Thrawn, who was sitting in his chair, relatively unaffected.  By the time the blue glow faded, and the shaking stopped, injury reports were coming in from all over the ship.

"Report," Thrawn ordered, unshaken.

Cortez checked his command board.  "There was a power spike in the reactor core at the instant we folded.  We appear to be in orbit of Earth," Cortez motioned to the main viewport, filled with a green and blue sphere, "but there are no Invid energy signatures anywhere."

Before Cortez could continue, the sensor operator's frantic voice broke in.  "Admiral, we have multiple weapon locks converging on the ship!"

"Evasive," Thrawn calmly instructed, "activate defense systems."  The ship rocked as all manner of attacks hit the shields.  "Return fire.  Where are the shots coming from?"

A tactical map appeared on the main screen.  "They appear to be some kind of satellite mounted weapons, sir, it's hard to get a lock on them.  Projectile guns, energy cannons, even a few missile launchers.  We're in some kind of minefield."

"I can see that, lieutenant.  What of the spacefold drive?"

Commander Scott (his name was a source of many jokes, none of them mentioned now) checked his board.  "Down, sir.  Overload.  Sir, if this keeps up, we'll lose shields in about two minutes."

Thrawn was silent for a moment.  "Very well, inform the gunners to intensify fire, that ought to buy us a little time."

"Sir," the navigator called, "we have a problem."

"I can see that, commander."

"No, sir.  I mean a bigger problem.  I can't match the stars to our charts."

"What!" Every head on the bridge snapped around.

"Explain." Cortez wondered how Thrawn was able to stay so calm.

"Sir, I've been trying to plot a course out of here since we dropped out.  From what the computer is telling me, we have over three hundred years worth of galactic drift."

"Three hundred years?" Marshall gasped.  "We've traveled to the future?"

"I doubt that, Captain. I suspect the answer is different," Thrawn replied, pointing out the forward viewport.  Outside, they could see that there was something odd about Earth.  Namely the extra continent in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

A much larger jolt cut off further comments.  "Admiral," Scott called out, "shields failing!  Estimate thirty seconds until overload."

"Take us down."

Cortez looked at Thrawn in disbelief.  "I'm sorry, sir?"

"Take us down, Commodore.  Emergency procedure echo alpha oscar."

Cortez nodded,  "aye, sir." He relayed the commands to the pilot, then looked back at Thrawn.  Emergency Atmospheric Operations. While not as bad as "abandon ship," the command was still rather ominous.  If it had been anyone but Thrawn on the bridge, the crew might have panicked.  With the Admiral present, there was only a feeling of nervousness.

The bow was glowing with the extreme heat of atmospheric entry when the shields failed.  A few scattered energy blasts left scorch marks on the hull, which were quickly joined by the burns caused by heat and friction.  When the heat dissipated, the forward hull was blackened, and the hull plates warped in a few spots.

Thrawn looked at the damage control station, then turned back to Cortez.  "Find us a spot to set down."

The navigator and sensor operator were collaborating to find a suitable spot even before Thrawn finished the order.  "Are you sure that is a wise idea, Admiral?" Cortez asked.

"We have no choice, Richard.  We need to discover what has happened, and we cannot do that while airborne.  Our engines would overheat within a few hours, and we would be too much of a target.  We could not stay in orbit because of the hostiles.  Our only choice is down."

"But, sir, if the defense satellites were firing on us, what makes you believe we would fare any better on the ground?"

"You didn't take note of the arrangement of the satellites, did you?"

"Well, no sir," Cortez admitted.

"The satellites were, for the most part, clustered in a relatively low orbit.  The destiny drops greatly further out.  This would not be of significance, but for the space stations in higher orbit.  There are a few there, but not so many.  This leads me to believe that the planet is not being defended at all."

"So we're setting down on a planet under siege, how is that better?"

"I do not believe it is under siege, either.  From the images we have seen, this Earth is self sufficient, at least in terms of food, and from that we can assume medical supplies as well.  Planets are hard to put under siege, one's like this even more so.  There is no invasion, no siege.  I believe that this is more a matter of containment.  That in mind, there may be ways to acquire the information we need."

Not for the first time, Cortez wondered if a predecessor of Thrawn's had inspired Ather Conan Doyle.

"Admiral," the navigator called, "we may have a place."

The ship had entered the atmosphere over Europe, and was now north of the continent in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.  "Where?" Thrawn asked.

A flashing point appeared on a map, near the eastern end of what should have been New York.  "Level ground," the navigator explained, "no signs of habitation within a hundred klicks."

"Do it."

"Aye."

*******

To many, a large shooting star streaked across the pre-dawn sky.  To a few, it was a fireball like nothing they had seen before, accompanied by an explosion of sound loud enough to wake the dead.  As a matter of fact, three vampires had just finished dinner and were retiring to their coffins when the sonic boom passed by, so that saying gained some truth.

Contrary to many fears, the landing was controlled, and relatively pleasant (compared to crashing).  Granted, there were several concussions, and the lowest deck was rendered useless, but compared to utter destruction, it was a good thing.  The horrendous screech of metal being ripped apart carried for miles, convincing the above mentioned vampires that it was time to leave the neighborhood (of course, they forgot the time of day, and were reduced to dust by the rising sun, just goes to show evil is stupid).

Cortez surveyed the bridge, noting that few of the crew had been thrown around.  Unsurprisingly, Thrawn was still in his command chair, unbuckling his restraint harness.

In the rear of the bridge, Commander Scott was checking the systems damage.  "Admiral," he reported, "power core intact, but propulsion is out.  Decks eleven and twelve are out, not surprising."

"No," Thrawn replied. "How bad is propulsion."

"Well, sir, to put it simply, we're not going anywhere without some heavy lifters.  All other systems minimal damage.  Power is stable, weapons are functional, and we can open the hanger doors."

"Very well. Captain Marshall?"

Maniac straightened.  "Sir."

"Which squadron is currently on the flight line?"

"Echo, sir, under command of Commander Bowen."

"Spyder, I thought so.  I need a defensive recon patrol for the area.  Get them in the air as soon as possible, though make sure the Veritechs did not suffer damage in the crash first.  After that, I want a squadron each from Rogue and Cerberus wings up, and the rest ready to go at a moments notice.  This event will not go unnoticed by the natives."

Maniac nodded, then contacted the pilot's ready room, then put in a call to the galley.  The pilots would need some extra strong coffee.  Within twenty seconds, six Alpha Veritechs were streaking out of the port hanger, and an equal number joined them from the starboard side.  Both groups began to circle the Hephestus at an ever-widening distance.

Thrawn walked to the forward viewport.  "Deploy ground forces once personnel and equipment have been checked.  I want a perimeter at twenty kilometers.  Begin making arrangements for long term shelters."

"Sir," Maniac asked, "does that mean we're staying here?"

"For the time being, Captain, we are trapped.  There was no choice but to set down, and doing that has damaged the propulsion systems beyond our ability to repair.  We are trapped here until we can summon help.  Such help would be far away even if we stayed in orbit.  I suspect we have shifted dimensions."

"Like the SDF-3?"

"Perhaps, and possibly by the same means.  We are trapped here no matter what, and being on a planet with air and resources is better than deep space."

The bridge was silent.  The officers digesting what the Admiral said, while the enlisted men looked close to panic.

Finally, Cortez broke the spell.  "What now, sir?"

"For now, we learn as much as we can about this world.  The most dangerous enemy is ignorance."

*******

<Three weeks later>

Cortez stepped out of the engineering compartment, and headed towards the lift.  Every now and then, he forgot why someone should never ask an engineer a technical question.  Two hours of being told, in essence, that everything was working reminded him.

"Hey, Commodore," Maniac came up beside Cortez, "you look like hell.  Scotty gave you the whole load, didn't he."

"Listening to how he had to substitute this dohicky for another thingamajig take a lot out of a person."  The lift was waiting (rank hath it's privileges), and both officers got in.

"Conference room?"

Cortez nodded. "Nathan wants me to tell the Admiral he'll be a little late.  There seems to be something weird with the matrix."

Maniac looked concerned.  "We losing protoculture?"

"No, that's the weird thing.  There isn't anything wrong with it.  It's more like how the reactor is affecting the environment outside."


"Oh?"

"Yeah.  Something that doesn't show up very well on the sensors, but we can tell that it's being affected."

"Weird."

"No kidding."

They arrived at the designated level.  Just below the bridge, the command tower conference room afforded a spectacular view.  The other section heads (Intel, Science Division, Logistics, and Ground Command) were already in attendance, as was the Admiral, and another man standing in the back.  Studying the figure, Cortez saw that the person was humanoid, tall, and with a medium build.  The cloak the figure wore obscured any other details.

"Sit down, please," Thrawn ordered.  "I take it Commander Scott has his hands full?"

"Yes sir," Cortez replied.  "He and his staff are studying some strange reactions between the reactors and the environment around us."

Thrawn glanced at the figure off to the side, then picked up a com handset.  "Engineering," he said into it. "Commander Scott, I may have a solution to your mystery.  I would prefer not to have it explained twice."  Receiving an acknowledgement, he put down the handset.  A minute later, Scott entered the conference room.

"Now then," Thrawn continued once the engineer had sat down, indicating the cloaked figure in that back.  "I would like to introduce you to Amadeus D'Lamar a native of this world.  And a mage."

"A wizard," Intel snorted, "is he going to pull a rabbit out of his hat?"

The cloaked figure raised his hand and muttered something.  The Intel chief's skin turned purple, and his hair pink.  Another gesture, and he began to float above his chair.

"I take it back, sir."

"Good," the figure whispered, finally taking a seat at the table and dismissing the illusions and flotation.  "For military men, you are rather open minded.  Though from talking to your commander, I should have expected this."

"You know what's going on?"  Scott asked.

"It is a long story."

"Give us the short version," Maniac commented.

"That would be the short version.  The long version would be an epic taking days to tell.  But I shall summarize.

"Nearly three centuries ago, this world was much like your own, I would guess.  A war started, and the death of so many people in a nuclear strike cause reality itself to be torn asunder..."

He continued on for close to an hour.  By that time, Cortez was amazed at the tale.  His years in the REF had shown him much, but this was simply unbelievable.

"So," Scott said, breaking the silence, "what does that have to do with our reactor?"

"Practical," D'Lamar nodded, "I like that.  With the emergence of magic back into the world, convergences of that energy, called ley lines, circle the globe.  Oddly enough, any within two hundred kilometers of this ship have been reduced in power.  And outside that limit is a wall of energy.  I suspect that your reactor runs on a similar source of power, or a conflicting one, and has erected a type of bubble to keep too much energy from entering the area.  With your permission, I would like to bring a few of my collogues to study this.  We have never seen anything like this."

"And in return?"  Logistics asked.

"In return, I would also bring a few representatives of the city-state of Lazlo, my home.  We can offer you two things.  The first is access to resources.  The second, and far more valuable, is information.  You are strangers here, with little knowledge of this world and it's inhabitants."

Cortez looked to Thrawn.  The Admiral was deep in thought, but nodded slightly.  Cortez then turned to D'Lamar.  "We are interested in your offer.  We would welcome your government's representatives."

The mage nodded.  "Very well.  I shall return within a week."  With that, he was escorted out of the room.

For several long moments nothing happened, until Thrawn dismissed them with a whisper.  "No, Richard," he said as Cortez moved to leave, "I want you to stay.  Marshall, the same is for you."

When the room was empty of all but those three, Thrawn spoke again.  "Tell me something, both of you, why was the REF founded?"

Maniac shrugged.  "I'm just a pilot, sir.  I joined the expedition when I was sixteen, just before it left.  I never gave it much thought."

"I was a junior officer on the SDF-1, sir," Cortez said.  "The REF is a reconfiguration of the RDF, tasked with making peace with the Robotech Masters in order to save Earth from more destruction."

"And now," Thrawn continued, "there was some talk about another reorganization.  Into the RGF, or Robotech Guardian Force.  What is the common theme?"

Cortez was beginning to see where this was going.  "Protection, sir.  Like any soldier, we protect those who are in our care."

"We can," Maniac said, "so we should, so we do."

"Exactly, Captain Marshall.  Dismissed."  The two saluted the Admiral, then left.

*******

It was an announcement going to every screen and speaker on the Hephestus.  A mere week after the group from Lazlo came to meet Thrawn, he had prepared a speech to go to all crew members.  There was a hush of anticipation in the hours preceding the speech.  The topic was debated among the crew, enlisted and officers alike.  Only two people, besides the Admiral, had any hint as to what it was about, and they weren't talking.

So it was to a mix of anticipation and dread that Thrawn began to speak.

"Over the past month, we have undergone many shocks.  I can now confirm to all of you that we have indeed shifted dimensions.  Unfortunately, it is not known at this time whether we can return to our home universe.  Even so, little has changed.

"Our mission, the mission of the REF, is to protect those rights that belong to all sentient beings.  Whether it be against the Masters, or the Invid hoards, our duty is the same.  And here, on this Earth, our mission is even clearer.  Our task, no matter where we are, is to bring order, and stability.  Here there is chaos, an so here too is our duty.  Where before there was slavery, and oppression for the sake of greed, here people are subjected to death, or worse, for amusement.  This cannot be, and it shall not be.  We will continue to search for a way home, but I, for one, will not leave until our task here is complete.  Those who wish to return will be allowed to do so.  All I ask is that you inform your officers of such intent within the next three days.  Those who indicate so will be placed on defensive duty, but those who elect to stay will be given the chance to strike out against the dark hoards that rule this world."

Three days later, there were still none who desired to leave.

End Part 1.

Notes (rant warning):

This story ends three years before the events in "The Warrior's Path."

A bit more of an explanation (spoilers from Star Wars novels below):

First off, this story is adapted from some X-over material I wrote for my Rifts game (of course, my GM threw the Invid into the works as well).  I later used some of that for The Warrior's Path (like Conner's bike).

Why is Thrawn one of the good guys in this universe?  Why is one of the greatest villains in Star Wars not making trouble for the heros? Well, besides the fact that I thought it would be cool to have him in a Rifts game (and later, my story), I felt that there were enough villains out there.  Because of that, I began thinking about having him be one of the "good guys."  

First, I needed a military organization that he could lead.  What would be needed was a relatively small, but well equipped group.  This was because a) there really isn't room on Rifts Earth for anything larger to show up and b) having a small group beat the stuffing out of a CS legion would be fun.  After reviewing the stats for the Third Invid War, I felt that I had hit the jackpot.  From that the Hephestus was born.

Now, Thrawn's character.  Now, the original novel trilogy with him developed a few parts of his character.  From those books we learn that he's a brilliant strategist, an art collector, and an expert in psychology.  We also know that he is fair to his subordinates, but he would not tolerate incompetence.  We also see that he would use any means available for victory.

Now, the Hand of Thrawn series gave us another view of his character.  This view, to me, was of a man who saw a great threat on the horizon, and would do anything to protect his people from it.  To that end he joined the Empire because he saw them as the best chance to stand against the threat.  Even during the collapse, he stayed with the empire because it was still the best option.  From his point of view, the rebellion was the bringer of chaos, chaos that the galaxy could not afford.  After reading about the aliens in Vector Prime, I can see his point.  

I think the best support of this theory is a quote from Admiral Pelleon:  "Thrawn was never interested in vengeance.  His goal was order, and stability, and the strength that comes of unity and common purpose." (Vision of the Future pg 498).

Anyone who has a problem with this, respond privately.  I doubt it would be an appropriate discussion for the list.

Oh, and before I forget.  Maniac, and most other pilot characters, are based on the Wing Commander series (specifically, #5, Prophecy and Secret Ops).


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