Subject: [FFML] [FFML][Fanfic][Robotech] Half Truth (Edited)
From: "Prez H. Cannady" <revprez@MIT.EDU>
Date: 2/19/2002, 7:13 PM
To: ffml@anifics.com


Partial Truths
by Presley H. Cannady

Copyrights 1996, 1997, 1998, 1999, 2000, 2001 Presley H.  Cannady
Copyright 1999 Anime Manga Development Group

Characters and situations are reproduced without authorization from=20
Robotech (Copyright 2000, 1985 Harmony Gold, USA, Inc.).

To comment on the content of the story, please write me at revprez@mit.edu

Fourth Edition 2001







*  *  *


PROLOGUE

SPECIAL OPERATIONS COMBINED ARMS GROUPS: [2015 - 2072] Special warfare and=
=20
support combined units activated in 2017 and largely made up of smaller=20
forces from the UN Air Force and Spacy -- expanded later to include Marine=
=20
and Army special forces as well (service affiliations preserved after the=20
United Earth Defense Reorganization Act of 2019).  Throughout the 2020s and=
=20
2030s, SOCAG's carried out a variety of special and covert tasks.  Four=20
SOCAGs were attached to the Expeditionary mission -- SOCAGs 15, 19, 21 and=
=20
23.  The remaining SOCAGs saw very little action until the Second Robotech=
=20
War, save for small anti-insurgency operations and low-intensity=20
fighting.  SOCAGs were active in the Argentine Crisis of 2028 and the Ling=
=20
Chien War in January 2031.  Groups attached to the REF on the other hand=20
formed the special operations arm Sentinels Task Forces 35 and 38 following=
=20
the liberation of Karbarra from the Invid.  Soon afterwards, SOCAGs 21 and=
=20
23 were deployed to collect intelligence along the diminishing frontier of=
=20
the Invid Collective's Empire.  As the Sentinels' campaign against the=20
Invid drew to a close, SOCAGs 18, 21, 24, 25, and 26 were redeployed to=20
support covert  mop-up operations against fringe Invid outposts throughout=
=20
the Tirolian Local Group.  Following the war, most SOCAGs were deceactived=
=20
with the establishment of the first unified special operations command=20
(UPCSOCOM) in 2062.  The few that remained, largely in service of the=20
United Planetary Confederation naval and marine forces were deactivated in=
=20
January 2072 and their forces and support organs were disintegrated and=20
redeployed under the coordination of UPCSOCOM.

-United Nations of Earth Spacy Technical Manual -- Appendix E.: Military=20
Glossary, 2073

*  *  *

MA'RIUL, THE YIRRBIRST SYSTEM
14 FEBRUARY 2034

"LIEUTENANT!" A PARTICULARLY GAUNT MARINE LANCE CORPORAL RACED up to the=20
Rachel; she'd been forced waited for her escort for the close to fifteen=20
minutes. The corporal's traditional regulation buzz-cut revealed his=20
awkward set of ears, hinting at his North American, Gulf-side=20
ancestry.  Huffing alongside, a lovely cherry-blond PFC came to a halt=20
right behind her partner.  The lieutenant turned to face them; her black=20
version of the ensign donned by the Robotech Expeditionary Force's naval=20
pilots absented the winged, blue bussards that normally rested on the=20
uniform's shoulders and sported a comfortably-snug black turtle-neck rising=
=20
from between the stiffened collars.  The black-brown hair that normally=20
fell with a perfect fullness towards the left side of her brow was tied in=
=20
a pony tail, falling just inside the exaggerated collar.  Rachel=20
straightened her sleeves as she waited patiently for her escorts to catch=20
their breath.
         "Begging the Lieutenant's pardon!" His formality was matched only=
=20
by his sincerity, Rachel noted as she watched him literally sweat himself=20
dry from anxiety.  "The rescheduled departure order never cleared through=20
Security Operations, Ma'am!."
         "At ease, Lance Corporal," she glanced in the way of the private,=
=20
whom the corporal had picked up during the rush.  Rachel honestly expected=
=20
a Spacy rating pulling escort duty; after all, this was an United Nations=20
Spacy vessel.  On the other hand, no one had ever quite figured out how=20
Personnel Affairs quite worked, even on such a small platform as a=20
spaceship.  Tossing her hair back, Rachel merely sighed and followed the=20
Marine corporal to the nearest tram-car -- necessitated on a vessel that=20
measured nearly a kilometer in beam length.
         The tram sped to the forward docking port, located on the=20
starboard sponson of the operations hull.  Awaiting them at the tram's=20
termination point was a burly Marine gunnery sergeant; he easily outmassed=
=20
both the corporal and the private combined, and stood close to two meters=20
in height.  His ebony skin seemed to dance under the highlight of the=20
docking port's  sparse illumination.  Turning to her ship-side escorts,=20
Rachel dismissed with a crisp salute and a "that will be all."  The massive=
=20
gunny ceremoniously assumed his duties with a stern glare, a hard salute to=
=20
his junior compatriots, and firm bark to send them scurrying about their=20
business.  He then repeated the ritual for the lieutenant, minus the=20
bullying snarl.  In the meantime, Rachel's dark-blue eyes quickly surveyed=
=20
her surroundings.
         The modest architecture of the debarking bay culminated in a=20
wrap-around transparency made of an artificially produced ceramic.  Under=20
appropiate circumstances, the entire "view-wall" could be reinforced by an=
=20
oblique titanium cowl.  An ceiling-to-floor slab of metal situated in the=20
center of the transparency marked the connection hardpoint for the docking=
=20
umbilical.  Diaphanous in itself, the umbilical connected the debarking bay=
=20
with the receiving terminal.  The doors opened to reveal a small, step-like=
=20
platform leveled out inside a transparent tube, angling downward some=20
forty-something degrees.  She and the staff sergeant carefully rooted their=
=20
feet onto the matting; special fields noted their presence and quickly=20
"inertialized" the platform.  As the doors hissed closed behind them, the=20
transport-platform began to move at a rather high speeds; even so, Rachel=20
couldn't discern so much as a mild jerk.  The shadows concealed much beyond=
=20
a few hundred feet of the station's massive interior; however, a few dim=20
lights in the distance illuminated the skeletal array of Karbarran and REF=
=20
vessels.  Rachel kept largely quiet to herself for the first leg of the=20
trip down.  The receiving terminal pod they were heading for drew closer=20
and closer, mile after mile.  On occasion, the sergeant would glance in her=
=20
direction.  After five minutes or so, he let loose a deliberate ahem and=20
attempted to spark up a conversation.
         "Name's Biggs, Ma'am," the sergeant introducted himself, his=20
thick, unabashed Southern accent bordering on hilarious.  With Rachel's=20
mind wandering, she only caught him speaking when the sergeant tried again.
         "Gunnery Sergeant Cole Biggs, Fifth of Fourth Cee-Yus," the=20
intimidatingly bulky Marine pronounced with friendly assertiveness.  "I=20
guess you were just with the Oh-Cee Eighty Nine, right?"
         "Well, Sergeant?" she queried with deceptive impassiveness,=20
successfully covering up the startled expression that nearly rushed her=20
face.  Rachel hadn't heard those four alphanumerics in a long time.  She=20
couldn't guess how this gunship of a Marine knew about them.  "I was led to=
=20
believe that was classified information."
         Biggs swallowed a bit, but continued in the same affable manner in=
=20
which he began the conversation.
         "What you people do, I dunno.  But the name ain't classified.  I=20
do like to keep up with things."
         Fair enough.  Rachel nodded and turned back to the window.  A few=
=20
seconds later, Biggs tried again to break the ice.  "So whaddya think,=20
Ma'am?  First time on board, right?"
         "Hmm?"
         "The factory -- big'nuff for ya?"
         "Astonishing," she answered, a distinctly dry tone dripping from=20
her lips, after a moment of consideration.  Of course, that was a drastic=20
understatement, she realized.  Try as she might, Rachel could not ignore=20
the sheer gradiousity of her surroundings.  As the transparent corridor=20
seemed to stretch on for infinity, the darker areas of the station seemed=20
to illuminate themselves.  Despite its terrible immensity and its external=
=20
homeliness, the Karbarran system's largest artificially constructed=20
structure radiated a special, awe inspiring eminence of its own.
         The Karbarran Robotech Factory, a G96-type shaped like an inverted=
=20
cone, proved to be one of Tirol's most magnificent pieces of=20
engineering.  The factory's center-situated power source -- brilliant as a=
=20
star -- reminded Rachel of the warm beauty of Yirrbirst, Karbarra's lonely=
=20
sun.  Stretching one-hundred and seven hundred kilometers along its longest=
=20
axis, the Karbarran Factory Satellite bore several structural differences=20
from her sister in Earth orbit, but nevertheless performed the same=20
job.  Like her sister, the power generated in that unfathomably huge reflex=
=20
furnace also also propagated a forcefield around the station's hull to=20
prevent the Ma'iul's tidal forces from ripping her apart.  The interior was=
=20
completely different from the one Rachel had known as a child, lacking the=
=20
thousands of construction pods that filled the insides of the first=20
Robotech Factory captured by Earth forces.  Instead, an immense void was=20
encased by a shell dotted with open-space building slips and causeways=20
leading to the external "pods."  The hundreds of warships floating inside=20
the massive cavity could not come close to filling the space.  Even if the=
=20
Zentraedi fleet were to park all six million and change of its warships=20
here, the vast majority of the space would remain unfilled..
Thousands of lights stretched alongside the inner curves -- twinkling like=
=20
artificial stars in the distance -- as Rachel imagined how massive this=20
place must have appeared to even the Zentraedi Giants who once manned=20
it.  Despite the obvious Tirolian influences on the design, the handiwork=20
of the Karbarrans was clearly at work here. Since its discovery by the=20
Karbarran Relief Mission almost a decade ago, the Karbarrans had dedicated=
=20
an lion share portion of their resources to retasking the Satellite for=20
shipbuilding.  Though the famed Sentinels were unwilling to wait for the=20
great behemouth to start pumping out warships, they did set up headquarters=
=20
there to direct the Allies' war efforts.  Today, it was the base of=20
operations for the Earth Relief Mission, the center of an effort to=20
liberate Earth from its entrenched Invid occupiers.
         Today, Rachel was literally looking inside the womb of the largest=
=20
shipyard and manufacturing plant outside the Valivarre system.  As=20
testimony to that fact, the transport pod flew across the under-refit hull=
=20
of the Lee Teng Hui, one of the many Churchill battlecruisers built within=
=20
the Satellite.  A war machine purpose-built for flying into=20
enemy-controlled star systems and wiping out space-borne foes swiftly and=20
thoroughly, she embodied the simplicity of her task within her=20
uncomplicated blockish lines and bristling weaponry.  Ever since Rachel=20
graduated from the Officers' Candidate School at Tiresia, she'd known=20
nothing but the heavily armed battlewagons that had carried so many of her=
=20
friends and comrades to victory...and death.
         Lieutenant DuBois closed her eyes, allowing the recent, bitter=20
memories to flood her mind.

*  *  *

...ONE YEAR AGO...

"Oh shit!" Rachel swore as she pulled back into the lethal dance .  The=20
Invid Scout fighter swung around to the left with only ten meters=20
clearance, damn near tearing off her strikefighter's right wing.  Rachel=20
through her Valkyrie Veritech into Guardian mode, bringing her left wing=20
missile racks to bear.  At the sound of the tone, she called out her shots=
=20
one at a time.  "Fox One!  Fox One!  Fox One!"
         Three missiles tore themselves out off the Valkyrie's left wing=20
racks and raced towards the enemy; three seconds later, a fiery white plume=
=20
off to the starboard marked the end of yet another slug's short, pathetic=20
life.  As Rachel's visual acuity returned, she could see a Burke destroyer=
=20
trudging across her field of view, escorting a small gaggle of the Horizont=
=20
dropships into low-earth orbit.  The UES Hideyoshi dropped out of sight=20
quietly, her meson gun clearing two hapless Invid strikecraft carriers=20
before they could deploy Scout mecha into the assault shuttles' path.
         "Scratch one suicide runner," Rachel heard over the=20
radio.  Already, several squadrons of Alpha Fighters were reentering the=20
moon's atmosphere, spreading across the globe to attack Hives along the=20
periphery of the main continent.  If all went according to plan, the next=20
wave of dropships would hit the atmosphere in ten minutes and land supplies=
=20
and reinforcements to the embattled marines nearly a thousand kilometers=20
from the mainland coastline.  "All right, Swannies.  Move your asses!"
         "Hey!" the lead Horizont commander snapped back."Why don't you get=
=20
those damned Logans down here!  Recon's picked up a whole briar patch of=20
those android bastards at our landing coordinates!"
         "This is Bright Star, Green Noah Ark.  We got you covered."
         "You better, Bright Star," the assault shuttle commander=20
acknowledged gruffly.  "Be advised, looks like we've got more company than=
=20
we bargained for at the LZ.  Call it two battalions holding fire near Hill=
=20
2930 -- Scrimms and Odeons.  Wanna guide us in?"
         "Just to deployment point.  Let the rowboats take care of=
 themselves."
         "We hear ya' Bright Star," another voice broke in on the tac-net,=
=20
this time the Tactical Air Force major leading a flight of Logan fighters=20
into the atmospheres.  "We love you, too, over."
         "I hear ya', Green Noah," DuBois replied.  "Good hunting and good=
=20
luck."
         The Logan flight leader snorted audibly over the tac-net.  "The=20
hell with luck.  What could go wrong? Over..."
         A lot of things.

*  *  *

CHAPTER ONE
RECKONINGS

The Expeditionary Forces' public claims regarding the expected threat=20
forces during execution of Operations SOLSTICE and LAFEYETTE -- essentially=
=20
a legacy of the obliterated Opteran Invid Collective -- begs the question=20
as to when the REF actually admitted the existence of the Invid Regis.  The=
=20
spectacle of the Mars Division's destruction reveals REF estimates of Invid=
=20
forces and capabilities in 2034 were way off mark.  Although in and of=20
itself not terribly suspicious, the Invid anti-surveillance operations of=20
2033 did not occur until mid-way through the year.  In the absence of=20
significant threat to Operation SOLTICE's planet-side communications and=20
intelligence collection network through 2031-2, it seems unlikely that the=
=20
Expeditionary Forces on ground were ignorant of the Invid Regis's presence=
=20
or were unable to ascertain both the sudden Invid interest in attacking REF=
=20
lines of communication only a year before the Mars Division debacle.  Why=20
this information was kept secret, however, remains a mystery even today.

-Maseo F. Diller, Lt. Col., UE Army, "Unresolved Issues of the Second Invid=
=20
War," Parameters, U.S. Army War College at Carlisle Barracks, Summer 2040

*  *  *

...THE PRESENT...

"MA'AM?" THE EBONY-SKINNED GUNNY TAPPED HER SHOULDER GENTLY.
         Twenty-two hundred dead
         The vision evaporated as a stern voice lured her back into=20
reality.  The dark basin of the Satellite's hollowed interior replaced=20
images of Invid Inorganics and Imperatived Zentraedi.  The frightening=20
echoes of her most vivid nightmare, a legacy from those distant days spent=
=20
recovering from near-fatal wounds in the Patterson sickbay, disappeared as=
=20
a distant voice drew closer.  She tore herself away from them to face her=20
companion.
         "You still wit'me?" Gunny Biggs tapped her shoulder again.  Rachel=
=20
nodded affirmatively, clearly not wishing to discuss it any=20
further.  "Don't sweat it, Ma'am.  Lotsa folks get lost in the view.  I=20
hope you get to see the rest of the place.  It's really somethin'."
         Rachel nodded, but did not avert her eyes from their aimless=20
gaze.  The spacious cavity was more than the human mind could comprehend,=20
eliciting a deep feeling of personal irrelevence from anyone who fell=20
captive to its sheer immensity.  The human mind lacked the tools to place=20
the open space on a reasonable scale.  Rachel decided that Terra's first=20
astronauts must have felt like this once, looking down on the ball of rock=
=20
their relatively pitiful and fragile little species had crawled across for=
=20
millenia.  Then again, most people were satisfied with summing up the whole=
=20
experience in four words: "It's so goddamned big!"
         "It...it's impressive," she finally managed.  A few more moments=20
passed by before Biggs coughed again, this time determined to entertain his=
=20
charge.
         "If I may ask, Ma'am.  You're Cap'n DuBois' daughter, right?"
         "Huh?"
         "Cap'n Andy...er...sorry.  I mean Captain Andrea DuBois, Ma'am.  I=
=20
was just curious."
         "Uh, yes.  Yes, I am."
         "You sorta look like'er -- if I may say so, Ma'am."
         "Thanks.  Why do you ask?" Rachel narrowed her eyes but kept them=
=20
locked on some invisible point beyond the transport platform's protective=20
force-fields.
         "Well," Biggs hesitated, not sure if he should continue or not, "I=
=20
knew your dad way back on the Earth Factory -- back before the jump to=20
Tirol.  He used to fly off the Wellington -- my old home.  Then, there was=
=20
your mom.  She used to be my sister's team commander, before she got=20
frocked and ended up steerin' tin cans for a livin'.  I don't think she met=
=20
you, but Diana -- that's my sister -- used to have mess wit'da Cap'n=20
everynow and then.  That's how I got to meet her -- I mean Missus, er,=20
Captain Dubois, that is.  Small world, ain't it?"
         "Really?" Rachel's ears perked in mock interest, though something=
=20
deep-down gnawed at her heart.  It had been several years since her mother=
=20
had died, or was presumed dead, along with the Moscow.  Years ago, her=20
mother had become involved in a very complicated situation.  Leaving Rachel=
=20
planetside of Haydon Monoceros, she galloped around the galaxy with a man=20
that seemed to have taken Rachel's father's place.  That's how Rachel=20
pictured it, at least.  The Moscow had been damaged severely when Captain=20
Andrea DuBois had rested it, illegally, from Major General Edward's=20
control, but she somehow managed to survive the jump to hyperspace.  For=20
five years, they'd taken the work of the Sentinels beyond the local group=20
worlds.
         Mom.
         "She's good people.  Don't you worry none'bout the -- well,=20
hell.  Looks like we here."
         The receiving terminal's computerized tele-image displayed a young=
=20
and cheerful female face, her skin as swarthy as any women of Rilac.  The=20
face brought back memories of the hundreds of ruined and annihilated=20
colonies of Tirol she had passed by on her voyages through the Fourth=20
Quadrant.  At the age of fifteen, she left her uncle on Haydon Monoceros to=
=20
enter the Tirol Officers Candidate School.  Completing the assessment test=
=20
ahead of schedule, she had received warming letters of recommendation from=
=20
Brigadier General Charles Simmons, the deputy commandant of the TOCS, and=20
the late Rear Admiral Yutaka -- who died in office during his second term=20
as the TOCS Executive Commandant.  The officer corps had taken a severe=20
beating during the First Invid War, and the "mop-up" operation was already=
=20
costing more in terms of manpower and equipment than originally=20
projected.  Likewise, the OCS programs pumped out graduates at half over=20
the military's average retention rate.  Rachel had completed her flight=20
training just inside of a year, but not more than six months passed before=
=20
she was booted up to full lieutenant, and hastily assigned her to Special=20
Operations Combined Arms Group 24.  For the past year and a half, she'd=20
served in various spec-war missions during Mop-Up operations.  Rachel=20
joined an entire generation of highly-skilled yet obscenely young=20
servicemen.  The average age of a Navy Lieutenant was twenty-three; in=20
fact, her most recent CO had only been five years her senior!  As she=20
examined both the ratings and the officers moving about around her, she=20
could see her youth and inexperience reflected in them.  They were lost=20
baby sheep in the aisles of the damned.
         Rachel almost lost her sense of balance and scale completely as=20
she stumbled out of the receiving terminal and into a space almost twenty=20
meters wide and forty high.  It took her a while to realize she was looking=
=20
at the mere anteroom to the station's "nerve center."  The main control=20
room--the floor area rivaled a small football field -- directed almost=20
every aspect of the station's operations.  The antigravity lifts leading up=
=20
to the MCS upper levels zipped about like fireflies in a swamp.  She barely=
=20
noticed how the architecture had gone decisively Zentraedi as she passed=20
under the sweeping entrance of Command Deck.  The sweeping arcs were=20
magnificently plain, a testament to the warrior-clones' sense of=20
functionality over aesthetics.  Rachel's mind took in the view to the=20
exclusion of all else, just as she unceremoniously walked straight into a=20
superior officer.
         The tall Aerospace Force Lieutenent Colonel collected himself=20
before flagging down the nearest antigravity platform.  A beaming-white=20
smile spread across his ruddy, Sicilian skin, sparking recognition in=20
Rachel's eyes.
         "My-my, Lieutenant Rachel DuBois?" he commented.  "How long has it=
=20
been?  Ten years?"
         Gunny Biggs, having completed his escort duties, saluted Rachel=20
and stood at attention until the colonel dismissed him.  He turned to=20
Rachel with a wildly drawn grin that appeared to say: Keep your heead up,=20
El-Tee.  Then, with the rigid professionalism of a seasoned NCO, he=20
disappeared into the transient mob of technicians, officers, and Marines,=20
leaving Colonel Aston and Rachel to talk privately.
         "Uncle Vin-er...Colonel Aston?"
         "Uncle Vinny's just fine with me.  Damn, I think you were still in=
=20
grade school last time I saw you."
         "Eighth grade, Sir."
         "Hopped a ride to Monoceros with Tom, right?"
         "Yes, Sir."
         "Vinny."
         "Sorry.  Anyway, I hopped off-planet three years ago. What have=20
you been up to?"
         "Nothing to exciting, might I say.  I'm back from my tour over in=
=20
the Lechem Quarter.  I heard you're back from the Badlands."
         "Are you cleared for that?"
         "Why the hell would I be here if I weren't," he replied.
         "It pays better, Sir."
         "Not that good," Colonel Aston replied.  "Damned drafty if you ask=
=20
me -- oh, and no wool sweats on duty."
         "I don't doubt it, Sir."  There lift came to a stop, and Colonel=20
Aston gently discontinued the conversation; courteously leading Rachel onto=
=20
the reception deck.

*  *  *

General Reinherdt, Military Liaison to the Plenipotentiary Commission,=20
sauntered back into reality thoughts of his nephew -- now a junior officer=
=20
in the United Earth Space Navy -- fled his mind.  He set his hands down on=
=20
the table before him, an equilateral triangle with each of its vertices=20
truncated about a foot inward and capped with the "chief" seat at the=20
twelve o'clock corner.
         Reinherdt sat next to his younger colleague and friend, Rear=20
Admiral Vince Grant.  The powerfully-built, stupendously tall Black man=20
seemed somewhat less cumbersome and far more contemplative as he reclined=20
in his seat -- Grant's right hand massaging at a patch of fuzz that might=20
just pass for a beard.  Admiral Grant's uniform bristled with citations of=
=20
various sorts.  Most of them commemorated his actions as CO of Task Force=20
38 during the siege on Optera last year.   When Edwards launched his coup,=
=20
he had succeeded in killing or injuring enough of the senior command and=20
brass leadership that the REF had to dig deep into its senior field-grade=20
officers to replace their losses.  Grant had been one of the many officers=
=20
Admiral Yoshanov and Commissioner Justine Huxley had pulled out of the=20
woodwork to fill the vacancies.
         The rest of the flag panel was composed entirely of old guard=20
brass.  Sarah Olvesky, a Major General and Director of Karbarran-REF=20
Internal Affairs, once taught Aerospace Engineering at the University of=20
Michigan; she'd met Grant there during his undergraduate career.  Vice=20
Admiral Raul Forsythe, once flag captain of the SDF-3 and now=20
second-in-command of the Earth Relief Mission, occupied the seat=20
immediately adjacent to the vertice reserved for the presiding=20
officer.  Finally, there was good old Admiral Kulaski; an American Pole and=
=20
once retired United States Navy missile frigate skipper who often commented=
=20
about being injustly "dragged kickin' and screamin'" into the global=20
service by Forsythe decades ago.  Kulaski was the oldest officer in the=20
United Earth Forces.  At age sixty-eight he'd been pulled out of retirement=
=20
more times than he cared to remember.  Also, of all the officers present,=20
Kulaski alone had worked his way up through the enlisted ranks -- a genuine=
=20
sea dog.  He sat at the base table's right vertice; right next to the open=
=20
seat reserved for a Lieutenant Rachel DuBois.  The command table sat up to=
=20
twenty people, with additional seats for more junior attendees.  Today's=20
meeting featured several analysts and other staff members in attendence,=20
all cleared to very high levels of military secrets.  Separated from the=20
rest of the station by a good five centimeters of sound-proof material, the=
=20
command briefing room was truly one of the most secure places onboard the=20
Satellite.
Outside the command briefing room and just below the balcony, Lieutenant=20
DuBois rode high above wonderland.  A lift automatically and expertly=20
managed the traffic, flying high  enough for her to admire the=20
view.  Hundreds of Expeditionary Force, Karbarran  and other Allied=20
personnel slaved over thousands of consoles and systems. These technicians=
=20
and their division officers coordinated activity vital to the command=20
center's operation as well as the millions of other tasks carried out=20
within the voluminous space just beyond the grand transparency and=20
throughout the Satellite's many facilities.
         Peering out beyond the massive, all enveloping window protecting=20
the MCS from the vacuum, Rachel watched as -- slowly but surely -- the=20
immense hull of the Jutland, the only survivor of the Wellington=20
dreadnoughts that once represented the pinacle of Terran space engineering,=
=20
nosed into view of the massive transparency.  The former gold and sky-blue=
=20
paint was stripped away; as a matter of fact, most of the bow's hull was=20
missing, leaving only naked superstructure.  The aging dreadnought was=20
undergoing a major refit, the third of its kind to be transformed into a=20
superdimensional tender.  Hopefully, she'd be ready in time for Operation=20
LAFEYETTE, carrying sufficient factory materials to retask Moon Base Luna=20
and prep the Fleet for the final assault on the Invid Home Hive..
         The turbolift came to an abrupt halt about fifty-meters above the=
=20
command centers "ground floor."  From the balcony's altitude, the various=20
decks of the command center resembled a small city; lights, building=20
structures, and even vehicles -- flying and non-flying -- all added to the=
=20
scene.
         "Nice to see you again, Rachel." Rachel attention turned back to=20
the flag panel.  Sarah Olvesky smiled from cheek-to-cheek, growing rosy=20
pink.  Her grey-brown hair was tied back into a bun, giving a sort of=20
distinguished air to her slight aged features.
         "Colonel, " she turned to Uncle Vinny.  Both officers saluted=20
before Aston turned back for the lift.  Rachel, on the other hand, was left=
=20
with an assortment of flag and general officers, every single keenly=20
interested in her -- something Rachel didn't find the least bit comfortable.
         "Good morning, General," Rachel lowered her hand, a grin finally=20
penetrating her long lackluster air.  "I think its been..."
         "Four years."
         "How's Arthur doing?" Rachel asked about a mutual friend of theirs=
=20
-- Sarah's godson specifically.
         "First month at the OCS," Sarah's tone dropped decisively.  "He's=
=20
got his Daddy's drive.  Anyway, I would hate to see such talent lost."
         "With the way you spoil god-kids?  Sarah, I think not," a slightly=
=20
older voice emitted from the behind them.
         The voice belonged to Raul Forsythe, who was habitually grazing=20
his beard with his index finger.  Turning to Rachel, "Well, its an honor to=
=20
meet the kid of Pete DuBois."
         "The pleasure is mine, Sir," Rachel returned the favor.  Most of=20
the people at the table had associated in some way or another with Peter=20
Henry DuBois.  Forsythe, once a professor of history at the Macross Island=
=20
Training Center, had known Pete DuBois as the quiet, seasoned combat pilot=
=20
who managed to graduate third in his class.  Reinherdt served with Rachel's=
=20
father both during the War of Unification and following the Dolzan=20
Holocaust.  Grant, Olvesky, and Kulaski got to know Rachel's father during=
=20
his two year guest tour of South America.  Grant got a chance to meet Pete=
=20
DuBois through Max Sterling, right before accompanying Max's command to the=
=20
Southlands as an engineering duty officer back in 2018.  A far more=20
youthful and vibrant "Major" Sarah Olvesky worked a ground intelligence=20
network that the infamous Jonathon Wolff and his "Wolff Pack" armored=20
calvary squadron frequently utilized.  Kulaski, on the other hand,=20
refrained from ever discussing his relationship with Pete Dubois.  Only the=
=20
foolish would dare question an admiral's right to keep a secret or two.
         Rachel glanced down at her watch; it was nearly time.  "Where=20
should I sit, Ma'am?  It looks like we're about to start."
         "The Old Man's been delayed, so I we have some catch-up time,"=20
Sarah noted.  "Otherwise, you're right by Old Kulaski.  I haven't seen Dr.=
=20
Garetteau since you were a girl.  I heard you and Hiram got along pretty=20
well before you left."
         "Fairly," Rachel nostagically recalled the days she had held baby=
=20
Hiram Olvesky -- Sarah's nephew -- on her lap, and suddenly remembered that=
=20
the age difference between them seemed so negligable now-a-days.  Already,=
=20
he was putting up top numbers for his TOCS class.  Unfortunately, she'd=20
lost touch with him over the last year.  "I guess he's found a new friend=20
in Reghan's daughter.  They're both -- if you'll excuse me, Sir -- very=20
growing up to be very military."
         "And Ryan, too, Gunther," Sarah snorted, recalling Gunther's=20
grand-nephew. "Amazing -- they were just kids not more than a few years=
 ago."
         "They are just kids," Reinherdt shook his head.  His nephew Danny=
=20
was already on the short-list for Rear Admiral.  Danny's son Ryan, who'd=20
just turned twenty-one, had graduated from Space Navy TOCS three months=20
ago.  "We put them out there too young, too early.  Present company=20
excluded, of course."
Rachel watch General Reinherdt's sour look flush quickly from his face,=20
replaced by a wry smile.  The lieutenant graciously accepted the friendly=20
apology, but inwardly wondered what was on the General's mind.  Was it that=
=20
Daniel Reinherdt was on top track for brass with only fourteen years of=20
service under his belt?  Well, Rick Hunter made Major General in five and=20
full Admiral not long after he hit
forty, she noted to herself.  The universe had turned upside down, so it=20
seemed.
         "There's very little we can do about it now," Grant noted soberly.=
=20
Everyone present understood Commander Grant's sensitivity on the=20
subject.   He had left his only son, Bowie, behind before shipping out with=
=20
the SDF-3.  Bowie Grant eventually grew up, enlisted in Army of the=20
Southern Cross and taken up a tanker's life, and finally saw extensive=20
action during the war with the Robotech Masters.  Eventually, Bowie Grant=20
and his comrades in the Fifteenth Squadron, Alpha Tactical Armored Corps,=20
were redeployed to Tirol to help with the mop-up operations.  Despite the=20
tender reconcilliation they'd finally achieved, Commander Grant knew that=20
the relationship he and his son once had would never be the same.
         "Back on a lighter note," Sarah interjected, as if sensing the=20
choking melancholy gripping the room.  "I read your file from the=20
Patterson.  Pete and Andrea would've been proud.  Three distinguished=20
sorties, four Stellar Cross Medallions.  Sam and Francis really took a=20
liking to you.  It was damn near impossible to get them to let go."
         Rachel fondly recalled the Commander of Carrier Air Wing Eight=20
Nine -- or simply Commander Air Group (CAG) -- Captain (Junior Grade) Sam=20
Huxley.  The son of former UE World District Court Justice and now=20
Plenipoteniary Commissioner Justine Huxley, he had distinguished himself=20
during the Sentinels War and earned the command of the two-hundred and=20
fifty-craft carrier air wing.  Captain Francis Harbringer, the Patterson's=
=20
CO, would retire next month on a commodore's pension after a lengthy term=20
of service starting on the first superdimensional's long voyage back to=20
Earth from the darkest extents of the Sol system.  "I like them, too,=20
Sir.  We did good work out in the Badlands.  I trust you've received the=20
report on Cyphedia-45A."
         "Uh...yes," Olvesky replied.  She recalled the report, but the=20
legendary exploits of the Patterson would remained on a need-to-know basis=
=20
for some time.
         Rachel fidgetted.  "Anyway, the Patterson's a good=20
ship.  Trustworthy and reliable.  A lot like the Moscow."
         The table grew strangely quiet at the mention of the vessel's=20
name.  Most people knew that the Moscow, along with with her sisters, had=20
been stripped of her Wellington frame and remodeled to match the hull=20
design of an experimental general purpose warship class.  These sleek=20
vessels, painstakingly designed and built over the space of three years,=20
served as the testbeds for new fold drives.  Expeditionary Military=20
Assistance and Advisement Command hoped to deploy the second wave of=20
reliefs for Earth's beleaguered forces within the coming year, or nearly=20
two years after the first Relief Group quit the Fourth Quadrant to bolster=
=20
the late Supreme Commander Anatole Leonard's defense against the=20
Masters.  Additionally, the refit design guaranteed an extensive=20
flexibility in roles the class could undertake.  Prior to the Moscow's=20
refit, Captain Andrea DuBois commanded the behemoth landing ship.  Arriving=
=20
in Tirol's orbit, the Moscow suffered extensive damage at Invid hands, so=20
much so that it was conceded to the RRC for its new pet project.
         That first battle had seen the death of a young Rachel's=20
father.  As for Andrea, it was if something had died inside her.
         Then something simply snapped.  For reasons still unexplained to=20
her daughter, Andrea had hijacked her former command and fled to the far=20
reaches of the Tirolian Empire, turning her crew and aviators into a=20
mercenary group playing a covert but important role in the Sentinels=20
War.  After five years, she was destroyed by not only Invid warships, but=20
apparently forces under the command of Major General Edward's seditious=20
faction.  Since her mother's death, Rachel had been utterly alone save her=
=20
uncle.  Dr. Garetteau had taken great care raising her, but the reality of=
=20
war forced him to take long, work-related absences for months at a time.
         A moment of silence seemed almost ceremonious as it followed the=20
last word from her lips.  Sarah coughed.  It wasn't the view of the many,=20
those who had faced dangers that seemed several hundred times more=20
vagarious than those the rogue crew of that ill-fated starship had faced,=20
but among this small circle of brass, her name would ring legendary among=20
those cleared for that classified information.  That included Reinherdt and=
=20
especially Kulaski and Grant.
         "Did they ever find that missing crewman?" Rachel changed the=20
subject momentarily.
         "Hmm?" Sarah Olvesky turned her attention to the lieutenant.
         "Tennyson, I think his name was.  Uncle Tom says Mom was close=20
friends with this guy after Dad died.  Did they ever find his body."
         "The Inquiry's commission finished searching the wreckage a long=20
time ago, Lieutenant," Kulaski fingers ran through his beard.  "There was=20
no sign of any survivors.  I'm afraid we'll probably never find out what=20
happened."
         "I understand," Rachel closed her eyes for a moment.  Then, she=20
proceded prematurely on what she considered to be the topic at hand,=20
regarding a decision she had made a few months earlier.  "As you probably=20
know, sirs, Captain Harbringer approved and filed my request for pulling my=
=20
active call file and assigning me back to the OCS, right?  With most of the=
=20
Mop Up under way, and the forces for Operation SPARTA still at least=20
another year and a half from outfitting, I think I can be of use getting=20
new aviators trained up.  I knew the OCS was looking to squeeze in one more=
=20
instructor but I had no idea it would be forwarded this high for review."
         "Well, Rachel..." General Olvesky said uneasily.  Rachel gave her=
=20
a quisitive look as Olvesky tried to explain.  "Now's not really a good=20
time to -- "
         "Request denied.  It's as simple as that, Lieutenant," a powerful=
=20
voice suddenly interrupted.
         A monumental man, almost as lofty and built as Commander Grant,=20
took his seat at the opposite end of the table.  Rachel realized that her=20
seat was at the foot of the obsidian slab, looking across at an almost=20
dark, imposing and commanding face masked in shadow.  "I apologize for=20
pulling your request and placing it on hold like that, but I don't feel the=
=20
need to explain my actions.  A comprehensive explanation will be presented=
=20
to you during the course of this briefing."
         The gruff-looking admiral was incredibly tall and impressive,=20
giving Rachel pause to even try and speak up.
         "I am -- of course -- delighted to finally meet you," a hint of a=
=20
Russian accent broke through the nearly perfect Londonian dialect.  Fleet=20
Admiral Vasily Kolyavich Yoshanov leaned both of his elbows on the table,=20
his shoulder emblazoned with the his command's unit patch -- featuring the=
=20
flying kite and the two laurel leaves.  Four gold bars rose above the tip=20
of the kite, distinguising of the Karbarran Theater Commander in Chief of=20
the Robotech Expeditionary Forces from other decorated upper echelon=20
officers.  Only answerable to Fleet Admiral Richard A. Hunter, the air and=
=20
space mecha forces commander-in-chief; and Supreme Fleet Admiral Elizabeth=
=20
Hayes-Hunter, the mission commander; he was the most powerful human being=20
within this part of space.  "I'm quite sure, Lieutenant DuBois, you might=20
agree with my decision as soon as we get underway.  So let's not waste=20
anymore time, eh?"
         The collosal Russian continued, "It's 1834, so let's get on with=20
it.  I need not remind you all that this briefing is top secret."
         Everyone at the table nodded in agreement, with Rachel the most=20
dumbfounded of all.  Yoshanov, even before the Hayes-Hunters, was a living=
=20
legend; having already released an auto-biography that was required reading=
=20
for General Staff and Flag Officer's Schools and a curriculary textbook for=
=20
naval midshipmen since the War of Unification.  Prior to the end of the=20
war, Yoshanov served as the senior adjutant to Marshal Zukav, CINCEURASFOR=
=20
-- Commander-in-Chief, Eurasian Forces -- and senior member of the United=20
Earth Defense Council.  The Admiral managed to escape the Zentraedi's=20
unrelenting slaughter of the UNDF's command posts through pure luck.  At=20
the time, Marshal Zukav and Fleet Admiral Hayes were readying Alaska Base's=
=20
most valuable strategic asset -- the only functional strategic reflex=20
cannon in Earth's arsenal.  Meanwhile, Yoshanov was in-flight to South=20
America to oversee the transfer of physicists and engineers from Alaska=20
Cannon to Bogot=E1.  Most of the Zentraedi bombardment focused on Europe and=
=20
North America, targeting the bulk of the United Nations strategic ASAT=20
forces and spaceports.  However, the Caribbean and most of Latin America=20
south of Mexico City escaped largely unscathed, including both the Panama=20
Grand Cannon and another one -- built in something akin to secrecy --=20
somewhere in the Amazon.  Yoshanov managed to peacefully keep the=20
secession-minded governments north of Venezuela and Colombia in the UN in=20
the aftermath of the Holocaust, while taking the effort to secure the=20
Brazilian Grand Cannon in the sovereign diasporas following the Zentraedi=20
Holocaust.  As a result, the surviving UNDF High Command managed to=20
maintain Brazil's secret treasure trove's confidence despite the=20
strenuousness of the times.  His experience and adventures earned him the=20
respect of his peers.  Not even General Edwards would have dared cross=20
Yoshanov -- a fear the traitor had held for no one else, not even the=20
Supreme Allied Commander of the Expeditionary Forces.
         "Shall we begin?" Yoshanov declared rhetorically as the lights=20
darkened.  A black, triangular prism rose out the center of the=20
table.  Flashes of fluorescent colors fluttered across surface.  Soon=20
afterwards, a holo-display of the REF logo materialized above the panel,=20
repeatedly rotating along its vertical axis as the briefing material loaded=
=20
into the display.
         "This is your latest evaluation from Commodore Harbringer and=20
Commander Huxley," Yoshanov lifted a small disc in his right hand. "You've=
=20
earned quite a reputation as a fighter pilot and an officer with potential=
=20
for command.  I have no doubts you would make a fine skipper some=20
day.  Maybe even a teacher."
         "Thank you, Sir."
         "However, I find myself quite at a loss of assessing newcomers to=
=20
our little circle.  I had quite a discussion with Admiral Kulaski about you=
=20
over lunch.  Now, getting to the point."
Admiral Yoshanov nodded towards Sarah.  "General Olvesky?"
         "Yes, Sir," she rose, slipping a wink at Rachel as she withdrew a=
=20
small pointing device from the table.  All of sudden, she fell into a=20
"nothing-but-business" mode.  "During the galactic mop-up operations in the=
=20
Caligula and Apollo supersectors, we've come across fascinating variants on=
=20
the Invid social and political template.  I believe, Lieutenant, you are=20
most familiar with the incident of Domera II."
DuBois nodded affirmatively.  A staff officer directed the attendees to=20
forward their datapads to the section marked QUEEN BEE, a subset of the=20
entire portfolio codenamed EXODUS.
         "After the Moscow incident, Intelligence analyzed reports of brief=
=20
skirmishes just outside of Haydon IV's system -- we were never able to get=
=20
confirmation.  In early March of '31, the REF Astrogation and Astrophysics=
=20
Research Office tracked a a "hyperspace foot print" -- a superluminal=20
ripple through space-time -- apparantly tracing its way into the First=20
Quadrant.  Disturbingly enough, the foot print originated only some two=20
hundred parsecs outside of the Opteran system's end of the Trianguli=20
cluster -- the second planet of the Beta Icarus System.  The pulse almost=20
parallels a hyper foot print Intelligence has been able to identify from=20
Sentinels pre-war records.  By all accounts, this fits with the speculation=
=20
of some special technology possessed by these unaffiliated forces that=20
permit mobilization rates through hyperspace well beyond anything we can do.
         "Military Intelligence also recently stumbled across some=20
startling new evidence that offers more credence to our original fears=20
another organized, Invid contingent at work in the Triangulis Cluster.  One=
=20
particular phenomenon appeared on gravitic scopes in the First=20
Quadrant.  Apparently, the Invid Sensor Nebula had been moving about and=20
within the Local Bubble looking for Earth.  We were able to collect data=20
from the analyses of the Nebula made during the Second Robotech War and=20
concluded this is the same Invid tracking device that left Haydon IV nine=20
years ago.  Today, we have reason to believe that the Invid forces=20
evacuated from Icarus and Domera II were part of a vast, previously=20
undetected collection of Invid -- possibly under the control of the Invid=20
Regis."
         Rachel didn't say a word.  The Regis?  The UEF had a nickname for=
=20
her, Santa Claus, because nobody really believed she existed.  While it was=
=20
widely known that the Invid on Earth had come from Beta Icarus -- perhaps=20
Domera II as well -- the evidenced suggested both worlds were just early=20
colonies of Optera.  That meant the Invid on Earth couldn't possibly match=
=20
the size of the force met on Optera in the autumn of 2030, which ran up to=
=20
about ten to twenty million combat-ready Invid troops and Inorganics.  The=
=20
Invid Regis, on the other hand, was rumored to control an Invid population=
=20
equal or larger to that once under the rule of the Regent's Collective --=20
or roughly sixty to seventy million armed and piloted Pincers, Shock=20
Troopers, and other deadly Invid war-machines.  What the hell's going on=
 here?
  After briefly overviewing the major points of the brief, Sarah=20
surrendered the floor to one of her aides.  "Colonel Greenwood?"
         A lanky-jawed colonel with a decisively Texan accent reared up=20
from the sub-brass contingent sitting close to Yoshanov.  "Thank y'kindly,=
=20
General.   Colonel Lucas Greenwood, GMP.  My associate, Major Caan,=20
Aerospace Force, will give you much of the background of what I'm going to=
=20
talk about, but let me start off like this.  Our last intel take from Earth=
=20
indicated that the Invid were going full force to cut off communications=20
with our major rally points and bases on Earth.  Now what I've got here is=
=20
a lotta recon data suggesting our forces on planet are still intact and not=
=20
under any immediate threat, but the enemy's got a great opportunity to=20
start making trouble -- especially if they succeed in cutting the commo=20
lines.  Major Caan?"
         "Thank you, Sir," A gawky Aerospace Force officer with bad acne=20
stood up behind Greenwood.  Major Caan couldn't have been more than two or=
=20
three years older than Rachel.  He sure as hell seemed nervous=20
enough.  "Uhm...good evening.  I'm Major Hamid Caan, GMP.  Two years ago, I=
=20
had the opportunity to put down with Admiral Hunter during Operation=20
SOLSTICE.  Our unit helped build the systems that collect and funnel=20
intelligence back up to the Moon and ultimately to Mars.  The task force=20
placed recon swarms operating in low orbits at eleven hundred, twenty-one=20
hundred and twelve thousand kilometers.  We also put up comm sats operating=
=20
at geosynch, well out of the enemy's operating range.  From there, we=20
forward incoming audio/visual and data packets to ALUCE and then out over=20
hyperstate radio to Mars Base Gloval.  These are our only links with the=20
resistance abroad, and our only way of coordinating relief efforts with the=
=20
SOLSTICE landing zones.  Then, last November, the Invid successfully took=20
out key swarms in Low Earth Orbit, effectively cutting off our lines of=20
communication with the surface..."
         Caan continued, explaining the significance of each recon swarm=20
and expanded on their recent destruction.  After fifteen minutes, he turned=
=20
the stage back to his superior.
         "Thanks, Major," Greenwood cleared his throat as he stood back up=
=20
and took the floor.. "We've got cross orbit communications back up and=20
running, but the downlinks to Earth present a whole new range of=20
problems.  Our last reported intelligence indicates Invid forces in control=
=20
of more than ninety percent of the Northern Hemisphere and large tracts of=
=20
Africa south of the equator.  They definitely felt ballsy enough to hit=20
targets in the vacuum, which suggests a significant expansion or effort to=
=20
expand their space control forces.  That's it for our brief.  Admiral?"
         "Thank you, Colonel Greenwood," Yoshanov folded his arms around=20
his chest as the Texan sat down.  "Colonel Reid?"
A much smaller, pot-bellied young man who seemed to resemble a Karbarran=20
cub, began his own report.  Rachel had noticed that much of the activity on=
=20
the lower bridges had halted.
         "Thank you, Sir.  I'm Colonel Geoffrey Reid, also GMP.  Getting=20
right to it, the Invid are now in possession of nearly sixty percent of the=
=20
Earth's surface. We're still unsure as to the make of of their leadership,=
=20
but present force appreciations point to a Hive distribution that rivals=20
Optera.  That means we're dealing with a force commanded by a royal class=20
breeder or something like it.  We've also got visuals of the the Home Hive=
=20
-- we're calling it Reflex Point right now."
         "Reflex Point?" Olvesky spoke up.  Rachel nodded in confusion, too.
         The holo-map shifted north by north-east over the Caribbean and=20
halting over a spot of land that had once been the Ohio Valley.  "Not my=20
idea, Ma'am.  You'll have to talk to Commissioner Obstat about=20
that.  Reflex Point is a Royal Hive, roughly of the same size, dimensions=20
and layout of the three located on Optera.  This particular setup fits the=
=20
speculated layout of the craters analyzed on Beta Icarus II.  That's why=20
we're guessing that the Invid on Earth are led by a royal.  If that's the=20
case, then we must consider the possibility that the Invid Regis does=20
exist, and our force projections may be completely off the map."
         Captioned in the hologram was the image source and=20
timestamp.  Already immense beyond belief, nobody in the room ever=20
suspected they'd encounter something like the Opteran Hive Networks=20
again.  Rachel pulled in a breath as every rumor she had ever heard seemed=
=20
to be fulfilling themselves like apocolyptic prophecies.
         The pot-bellied colonel passed the stage off to his collegue, a=20
lithsome, red-haired woman in her early thirties -- her name tag read J.=20
GRAMM, COL, UETAF.  Rachel glanced at the briefing agenda on her datapad=20
again, Gramm had the privilege of summarizing the strategic situation on=20
Earth, point out the REF's interests, and outline the mission objectives.
         "As of now, about forty thousand UEF troops are fighting to hold=20
the line at the equator.  While we're meeting our halt phase objectives,=20
we're sustaining heavy losses in our special warfare units and, as Colonel=
=20
Greenwood pointed out, our supply line and communication links have come=20
under attack.
         "In South America, special forces are instrumental in organizing=20
resistances north of Valhalla and throughout the Amazon=20
Basin.  Unfortunately, they've come under fire since last September's=20
effort to relieve Rally Points B and K.
         "For that reason, we've been planning to reinforce SOCAG 23, the=20
special operations group we have operating in the Amazonas, and redeploy=20
the group to covertly establish more permanent base in the Basin."
         The holographic image shifted again, revealing a gridpoint map of=
=20
a specific area in northwestern Brazil.  Even from space it was clear there=
=20
was a cavity -- almost like a crater -- sitting inert amongst the dense=20
greenery.
         "We hope to set up shop in the Brazilian Grand Cannon," Gramm=20
continued.  "It's located some two-hundred kilometers south-west of the=20
Amazon region known as the Basin.  The Basin has retained much of its=20
foliage, making it the ideal encampment for a SOCAG.  When we received the=
=20
military reports on spores that had spread across North America, we had=20
hoped to draw a line in the sand in the South, where the Flowers weren't=20
taking root yet.  That's the whole motivation behind Operation=20
SOLSTICE.  Now, we need to keep up a high support tempo just to keep our=20
people alive.  For that reason, we went looking for alternative ways to=20
support the beachheads without exposing transports from space to enemy=20
fire.  We can do that here.
         "We want to turn this place into a factory and a warehouse for the=
=20
resistance -- a point where our forces can converge in South America and=20
hold out against any attack."
         The colonel sat down; Olvesky immediately took the reins of the=20
briefing.  As the general talked on about mission specifics and delegated=20
time to questions and answers, Rachel's mind was already racing with=20
anticipation.  She didn't know if she could do what they asked of her, but=
=20
she knew that for the first time she was going to be fighting for something=
=20
that made sense.  Even if it didn't go off as planned, even if it was=20
impossible, she knew that for the first time in years the Expedition was=20
finally doing something right.  They hadn't even told her why she was here,=
=20
but DuBois had already figured it out.
She was going home.

*  *  *
*  *  *

"Yo arms' too short to box with God"       - Tekitha and Killah Sin>

<REMIX and Platinum Playaz>---------------------------------------->
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<"...number one gunna run for cova                     - Killah Sin>
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<Personal>-----------------------<"It's The Militia" - Freddie Foxx>
<revprez@mit.edu>--------<http://web.mit.edu/revprez/www/resume.pdf>
<"I mobb deep, in cherry Cherokees I forever be           - Shyheim>
 > on some thug shit, runnin wild through New York City"            >
<410 Memorial Drive, Cambridge, MA 02139>-----------<(617) 225 8420>

<ThE fLoW>---------------------------------------------------------->
Platinum Playa Productions-------------------<Site Comin Soon, dunnz>
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