Previous chapters are at http://templar.anifics.com/

Disclaimer: The characters within belong to Pioneer, Harmony Gold, and a
couple to Palladium books.  No profit was made from this work of fiction

No Need For Protoculture: The Sentinels
by Andrew Wilson

Chapter 1: A Call to Arms

[September 12th, 2018]

Commodore Tenchi Masaki, commander of the SDF-3 Fighter Group, squared 
his shoulders as a man condemned.  His stride faltered slightly as he 
stood outside the office of Vice Admiral Rick Hunter, Commander in 
Chief, RDF Mechanized Forces.  He sighed once, stilled his face, and 
walked straight into the office.

"Rick, the wedding date has been changed."

Rick looked up, raised an eyebrow, and placed the memo board he had been 
reading on his desk. "Oh really.  And why is that?"

Tenchi fought to keep a smile from betraying him. "Orders from Fleet 
Command, sir.  She decided that having it the day before Launch would be 
detrimental to mission efficiency."

"Which you and Ayeka have been saying since I proposed," Rick smirked.

"Ayeka," Tenchi conceded, "plus Max, Tom, Miriya, Anna, Dr. Lang, 
Exedore, Breetai, Jon-"

"Enough," Rick interrupted. "What's the new date, Mr. Best Man?"

"Two weeks," Tenchi replied. "This gives the two of you some time off 
during the final trials."

Rick shook his head with a smile. "Noted, Commodore.  Now don't you have 
a briefing to go to?"

Tenchi took his cue and departed.  Rick returned to his paperwork.  For 
the moment, things were peaceful again.  Given the group he normally 
dealt with, that would not last long.  Rick smiled and patten one of his 
pocket, making sure that an item was still here.

*******

Twenty years before, the title of commodore was a courtesy designation 
for captains with authority beyond an individual command.  During the 
reorganization of the Robotech Defense Force into the Robotech 
Expeditionary force, the rank had been created almost specifically for 
Tenchi.  The political situation on Earth had been degrading for years, 
and it almost seemed that the politicians were trying to cripple the REF 
before the Pioneer mission could launch.  In addition to several 
appointments of officers and civilian 'overseers' to the mission, there 
was an effective cap to the number of flag officers that could come from 
the REF's own ranks.

Lisa Hayes and Rick Hunter were required--by public opinion if nothing 
else--to be in command.  Breetai had an effective rank of a three-star 
general, and was third in the chain of command.  Tenchi's position as 
the commander of the strike wing, was fourth in command.  The United 
Earth Government had rejected the idea of giving flag rank to another 
SDF-1 veteran, so Lisa had devised another one for Tenchi and Lisa's 
chief of staff, Thomas Forsythe.  In effect, Tenchi was an Admiral 
without a staff.

Which was fine, he thought as he entered a large briefing room.  There 
were enough deranged personalities to deal with without a staff adding 
more.  The briefing room itself was dominated by the conference table 
running its length.  Ten seats were filled.  One stood open at the head, 
and a pair of spaces flanked a particular party.

Commander Anna Mitchels was the first to stand when Tenchi entered.  The 
First Wing's executive officer snapped to attention an instant before 
the other officers at the table and standing against the wall followed 
suit.

"As you were," Tenchi directed.

The wing commanders and seconds sat, and Tenchi took his own place at 
the table's head.

"This is the first meeting of the entire strike group.  Captain Tybir's 
wing was rotated out of the group in favor of a training wing." Tenchi 
waited for reactions.  When it was clear there were none, he looked 
around the table. "This is the first time many of you have worked 
together, so I want to make sure we're all clear on who everyone is."

Tenchi waved to the stocky woman to his left. "Commander Mitchels is 
commanding officer of Tsunami squadron and my executive officer.  If you 
have any problems and can't find me, talk to her."

To Tenchi's right was a blue-haired man and his green-haired companion. 
"Captain Sterling is CO of wing two and Skull squadron.  He is also 
second in command of the strike group.  Wing two is also the second 
fighter wing, with that mix of squadrons and Veritechs."

Tenchi skipped over Miriya on his way down the table.  Aside from 
Mitchels, the wing XOs and individual squadron commanders were not being 
specifically introduced.  Next down was a trim man with a thin mustache 
and sporting a pair of wrap-around sunglasses even inside the station. 
"Captain Wolfe is commander of the Wolf Pack, and of wing three, our 
primary ground support wing.  Also," Tenchi added with a small smirk, 
"the wing with the most assigned mecha, given its duel existence as a 
fighter wing and a hovertank company.  So if anyone needs replacement, 
hit Jon up, he probably won't notice."

A chuckle swept its way through most of the table as Tenchi's gaze 
arrived at the only unsmiling face.  It was also the only face with no 
subordinate to one side.  Tenchi knew T.R. Edwards' XO was in 
attendance, but Major Bensen was confined to the ranks of the standing 
commanders, while his boss sat isolated.

"Colonel Edwards," Tenchi had to concentrate to keep the contempt he 
felt out of his voice, "is commanding officer Ghost Rider squadron, and 
of wing four.  Since the wing is comprised almost exclusively of Alpha 
models, it is our primary defensive force.  Anything gets too close to 
the fleet, and it won't have time to regret it."

Tenchi didn't have to add that Edwards had no place in the SDF-3's chain 
of command.  He was the eldest pilot in the room, and possessed a combat 
record stretching back to the height of the Global War, but those things 
meant little.  Edwards was one of the officers assigned to the Pioneer 
mission by the UEG, but that wasn't what made most of the pilots glare 
at him with a hatred usually reserved for memories of Khyron.  Edwards 
and his hand-picked Ghost Rider squadron (several veterans of which were 
in command positions within wing four) had been responsible for some of 
the worst atrocities of the Malcontent Uprising two years before.  
Though the UEG had cleared him and Anatole Leonard of wrongdoing, none 
in the REF was fooled into believing Edwards was anything but a butcher.

That thought was forced out of Tenchi's head as he moved to the next 
officer, a small man of medium build.  Luckily, this was another 
familiar face from the old days on the SDF-1. "In command of wing five 
is Captain Horn, CO of Hellcat squadron.  Wing five is our final fighter 
wing.  The fighter wings comprise the main strike portion of our force.  
That's what we're here for, ladies and gentlemen.  If something is 
flying, we correct that problem."

Next in line was a dark-haired man with a couple wrinkles that did 
nothing to diminish his self-assured grin.  He was also the only other 
veteran of the Global War in the strike group.  Though he was a recruit 
in the last stages of the war, unlike Edwards who had served for the 
majority of the conflict. "I'm sure you know Captain Archer from his 
accidental encounter with a in-atmosphere fold shortly after Kyron's 
last run.  He'll be commanding Diamondback squadron and wing six.  This 
wing is our assault wing, and the major concentration of Vindicators.  
Hard targets are their specialty."

The last person to meet Tenchi's eyes was someone he only knew by 
reputation, and that reputation made Tenchi want to put several 
light-years between him and the other pilot, but at the same time 
Tenchi's own honesty forced himself to admit there were few others he 
could also trust at his back. "Captain Moore is CO of Wildcard squadron, 
and wing seven.  The official designation is Special Operations.  In 
plain speak, if an odd job comes up, we call them.  Infiltration, 
ballistic recon, capture operations, and similar.

"Any questions?" Tenchi asked.

One of the squadron commanders in wing five raised her hand.  Tenchi 
nodded to her, earning a small glare from Edwards. "Lieutenant Commander 
O'Brian, sir, Tomcat squadron.  How long is the fold?  The brass is 
pretty tight-lipped."

Tenchi nodded. "They're tight-lipped because Dr. Lang and his staff are 
still finalizing the calculations.  At the moment it's looking like two 
years actual, but only about two weeks subjective."

"Opposition?" came the question from Commander Williams, Moore's XO. "So 
far we've been training against Earth and Zentradi mecha.  Has anything 
shown up in our data searches?"

Tenchi shook his head. "Tirolean mecha are still unknown.  All we have 
is vague descriptions from Exedore, and even he admits that they're 
probably inaccurate."

"And the Invid?" Miriya Sterling asked.

"We'll have enough problems," Edwards interjected, "without putting 
stock in alien boogy-men."

A sub-vocal growl swept through the room at Edwards' comment.  Like 
Breetai, Edwards wore a prosthetic plate over part of his face, but no 
one would believe in any similarity between the two.  The first reason 
was the REF personnel had far too much respect for Breetai, and the 
second was Edwards' own anti-alien bigotry.  Given that a full third of 
the naval enlisted and commissioned personnel were Zentradi (twice that 
percentage in the Marines), it was a wonder that he had volunteered for 
the assignment.  All that added up to him being extremely unpopular with 
Tenchi's people.

"Nothing," Tenchi quickly stated before a fight could break out. "In 
fact, individuals who recall technical information are requested to 
write up whatever they can and submit it to Dr. Lang's group.  You 
should be able to find that notice on the network, memo 
one-five-niner-one."

"What happened?" one of Wolfe's commanders asked.

"Unknown," Tenchi replied. "Current theory is a type of computer virus, 
since there is no record or evidence of electronic intrusion."

"That's troubling," Miriya commented. "We don't know what's been 
happening in that portion of the galaxy for over a decade.  None of the 
survivors from Dolza's fleet had served in the inner portion of the 
Masters' Empire."

"Which is why we're going in with weapons hot," Edwards commented. 
"Shoot first and ask questions later, right Commodore?"

Tenchi held Edwards gaze for a moment, until the other officer's smile 
vanished.  What replaced it was not the apology Tenchi hoped for, but at 
least he looked suitably chastised. "In fact Colonel, your wing will be 
the only squadrons on patrol as we enter the system proper.  Don't 
disappoint us."

There was a series of keystrokes and taps as the squadron commanders 
brought up new documents on their terminals or data pads.  It was time 
for serious business. "Now, the tenders wills be halting in the outer 
system, so we'll detach the training squadrons to cover them...."

*******

The meeting had ended relatively quickly, and the various squadron 
commanders had filed out.  Four remained.  Max, Miriya, Colin Horn, and 
Chester Belmont of Viper squadron remained.  This was a special group, 
the only veterans of Skull that survived the battle with Dolza, and were 
still flying (two others retired with honors and left in the colony waves).

Max suddenly smiled. "Just like old times.  Right, Boss?"

Tenchi managed not to glare. "Edwards  wasn't on the SDF-1."

"Thank God," Belmont breathed.

"Enough moping," Horn said. "Gentlemen, we have a mission to fly."

Max and Miriya flashed matching grins at that statement.  What was being 
planned would have traditionally excluded her, but none of those present 
would have thought of telling her that.  Besides, the CO of Spitfire 
squadron had been essential in planning this particular 'mission'.

"In that case," Tenchi said, "we have a party to go to, gentlemen and 
lady.  Max?  You're in charge of the guest of honor.  Miriya?  Make sure 
the stewards have the food prepared.  Horn and Belmont?  You're with me."

"Party time," Belmont growled.

*******

Several parties where happening aboard Little Luna.  Gatherings of joy 
and of sadness, welcoming and departing.  In other places, far more 
sinister meetings were taking place.

"Is this link secure, Edwards?" Anatole Leonard asked from the monitor 
in Wing Four's briefing room.  The room was largely empty, as only the 
wing's senior officers were present.  Less than a score men and women in 
an auditorium designed to seat close to one hundred fifty.

"Of course it is," Edwards purred. "What of the changes to the 'advisory 
council'?"

"We've managed to replace the majority with members sympathetic to our 
cause.  They'll be shuttled up tomorrow." Leonard hesitated a moment, 
and grimaced as though a bad taste was in his mouth. "I couldn't get rid 
of Huxley."

Edwards matched that grimace.  Justine Huxley was an American judge that 
managed to survive the Rain of Death.  Afterward, she served as the head 
of the UEG judiciary.  She had a reputation for fairness, intelligence, 
and cunning.

She was also an advocate for alien rights.  And with her the head of the 
REF's political watchdogs, Edwards would have to alter his plans. "And 
the aliens around Pluto?"

Leonard smiled. "They'll be gone within a year.  Earth has no need of 
babysitting."

Edwards returned his superior's smile. "I have to go.  This 
communication might still be traced."

Leonard nodded, and the connection cut off.  Edwards turned to his 
subordinates.

"So when do we get to take out the trash?" Adams asked.

"Soon enough," Edwards said as he ran a hand over his skull plate.

*******

Ryoko Hakubi (not that she used that particular name very often) 
wandered through the Factor Satellite.  Normally, a quasi-civillian 
would not be allowed into half the places she was casually moving 
through.  She was unhampered for two reasons.  The first was that she 
had an official position within Dr. Lang's Special Projects group, not 
that she ever did anything there.  The real reason she was unmolested by 
the MPs was that she wasn't exactly walking through the corridors.  
Instead she floated between decks, passing through reinforced alloys and 
ceramics like they were water.

But that got boring after a while.  At the moment, she was searching for 
a party.  Ayeka had invited her to a get-together with Admiral Hayes and 
some of the other high-rank ladies on the station, but Ryoko had 
passed.  Instead, she was heading for pilot country to see what Tenchi 
had thought up for Hunter.

Besides, the men probably didn't water down their drinks.

Ryoko poked her head through another bulkhead and smiled as she saw her 
target.  Tenchi was reclining in one of the small lounge's chairs with a 
mirthful smile on his face.  That expression was mirrored by the others 
in the room, with the exception of the guest of honor, who was trying to 
sink into his seat.

The projection screen on one wall had been replaced by a small 
holographic projector.  In the air above the device was the image of a 
Valkyrie Veritech crashing through more than a few buildings in an 
attempt to assume Battloid mode.

"Hi, sweety," Ryoko cooed as she dropped into Tenchi's lap.

"Hi," Tenchi gasped at the sudden weight in his lap.

"What're you watching?"

Max looked over at the new arrival and smiled. "Hi, Ryoko.  We're just 
watching a few of Rick's moments of glory."

Horn's Smile grew as he waved everyone to silence. "The best part is 
coming up."

"Hey Roy," came a tiny voice from the projector, "who's the old sourpuss?"

The pilots roared in laughter.  Ryoko saw in the paused image that the 
'old sourpuss' was Lisa Hayes nine years ago.  Her own chuckles joined 
the crowd joined the general mirth as she recalled the rocky 
relationship she had with Tenchi for the initial months.

*Well, more like initial years,* she admitted to herself.

Rick grinned suddenly and stood. "We guys, this was good.  Splicing 
together a tribute to the stupidity of Rick Hunter.  And I trust that 
you won't be distributing this."

Max feigned shock. "Of course not.  Why would we do that?"

"I might have mentioned this little project when hunting for footage," 
Belmont admitted.

Rick smiled, and produced a small data disk from his pocket. "I thought 
as much," he said while slipping the data unit into the projector. "So I 
did a little research of my own."

Max, Miriya, Belmont and Horn all looked at Tenchi.  Tenchi's head 
flopped back, and Ryoko could guess what was going through his mind.  If 
there was a 'wall of shame' anywhere in the REF for of piloting 
bloopers, Tenchi Masaki had the largest space.

"No," Rick stated, "Tenchi was the smart one of the bunch.  He never 
cultivated the hot shot image."

An image sprung to life in the holographic field.  A VF-1D training 
Valkyrie in Guardian mode and skimming just above the surface of a large 
asteroid.  The playback continued, and the Guardian attempted to 
mechamorph to Battloid without slowing or gaining altitude.  One foot 
caught on a rock outcropping and sent the Valkyrie into a tumble across 
the surface.  The Battloid tumbled for half a kilometer before coming to 
an abrupt stop, which was generated by a pillar-shaped outcropping that 
the Valkyrie slammed into 'face' first.

Everyone in the room winced, except Rick. "I trust," he smirked, "that 
Captain Sterling's example is sufficient."

Looks were exchanged.  Hunter had been planning this, Ryoko thought.  
The looks were very nervous, especially on Max's part.

"Rules of a bachelor party," Belmont said quickly. "What happens here, 
stays here."

Rick smiled. "Good.  And since you spent the last hour roasting me, I'm 
going spend a few minutes shooting back.  Next we have one 2nd 
Lieutenant Belmont showing us how *not* to eject a malfunctioning missile."

*******

[September 26th, 2018]

The wedding was certainly spectacular.  No expense had been spared for 
two of Earth's greatest heros.  Instead of the glitter of the Sterling 
wedding years before, the Hunter ceremony was solemn and dignified.  It 
was a simple ceremony, performed by William Gunn, once the chaplain 
aboard the SDF-1 and now a bishop in Monument City.  It was short, it 
was serious, and no one had any doubt about the love Lisa and Rick shared.

Then the reception began.

Tenchi observed that the newlyweds maintained the dignity of their 
ranks.  It was everyone else that seemed to want to turn the reception 
into the mother of all keggers.  There was even a sense of rivalry with 
the RDF/REF supporters and visiting ASC officers and dignitaries clearly 
separated.  Only stern glares from watchful officers (including Tenchi 
on the REF side and General Emerson on the ASC side) kept a brawl from 
breaking out.  At least, Tenchi would like to think so.  More likely it 
was the entertainment.

Through some bizarre set of circumstances, Lynn Minmei had been cast as 
the main entertainment event despite Tenchi's best efforts to keep her 
from coming within a thousand kilometers of Little Luna.  He didn't 
trust the singer, didn't think that the main reason Rick and Lisa had 
such a rocky relationship years before should be given the spotlight.  
Most of all, he didn't trust what Lang called her 'unconscious 
protective empathy,' or what Tenchi's grandfather had once called 'a 
*real* siren's song'.  He had been about to load Minmei  not a lifepod 
and shoot her in the general direction of Earth when Lang had 
intervened, explaining that his niece (whom Tenchi had never heard of 
until about three years before) had a similar talent and would moderate 
Minmei's.  Judging by the lack of drooling and ogling in the audience, 
it seemed to be working.

"Hell of a party," Emerson observed from across Tenchi's table. "Too bad 
that plan of ours didn't work.

Ryoko snorted. "What can you expect with an asshole like Edwards over 
there?"

"Now, now," Ayeka admonished. "There is no need to be uncivil.  Colonel 
Edwards has ridden herd on his men so far."

Tenchi nodded.  That much was true.  Ghost Rider and its sister 
squadrons had not wanted to alienate the people they would be fighting 
with. "I wish you were the ASC rep, Rolf."

"Can't be helped," Emerson replied. "Besides, someone has to watch the 
home front."

Tenchi nodded.  Emerson had been one of the senior commanders of the 
SDF-1's Destroid battalion, and an old friend of Roy Fokker.  His 
history as a tanker made him invaluable to the growing ASC Alpha 
Tactical Armor Corps units.  Despite that shady connection, he was a 
friend of the REF, not to mention Tenchi, the Sterlings, and his former 
deputy, Vince Grant.  Because of that friendship, 'the conscience of the 
ASC' had agreed to look after Dana Sterling and Bowie Grant after the 
Pioneer mission's departure.

At that moment, Tenchi felt a tug on his sleeve.  He turned slightly and 
saw a seven year-old child with hauntingly dark hair and eyes.

"What's wrong, Alex?" he asked.

"Uncle Tenchi," Alexander Masaki pleaded, "the others are being mean."

Tenchi glanced up and saw a similar conversation going on a few tables 
over between Max and Dana. "What did she do?"

Alex frowned. "She stole my cake!"

Tenchi nodded slowly. "And what did you do to her?"

"I didn't-"

"Tell the truth, Alexander," Sasami said from beyond Ayeka.

Alexander pouted, and dipped his head. "I tripped her and made her cake 
splat."

"And?" Tenchi prompted.  From Sasami's letters, he knew that the feud 
between Alex and Dana was far more spectacular than some spilled food.  
How the feud even started was a mystery to everyone.  Shortly after the 
two children first met, they took an instant dislike for each other that 
went from 'cute scuffle' to 'Hatfields and McCoys' faster than anyone 
could react.

"Well," Alex drawled.

"Since you came aboard," Tenchi clarified.

Alex twitched his shoulders, then let out a great self-suffering sigh.  
"She started it!  She hit me when we were sitting down, then when I 
tried hitting her back she said boy don't hit girls, so I hit her anyway 
and said she wasn't a girl so it was okay, then she said you were a 
dork, so I said her dad was a bozo, then Bowie brought the cake over and-"

Tenchi held up a hand to stop the rapid explanation. "Enough."

The Sterlings chose that moment to walk over, dragging a sulking Dana 
behind. "What do you want to try this time?" Max asked.

Tenchi sighed and looked over to Sasami. "Don't look at me," Alexander's 
guardian protested. "None of my attempts have been successful."

"You're too nice about it," Miriya said. "I think we should find the 
nearest airlock, space them, then start over with new children."

"We'd have to use a clone for Alexander," Ayeka mused, "but the idea has 
potential."

Alex and Dana had forgotten their earlier hostility, and were huddled 
against each other as the adults discussed their fate.  Tenchi hid a 
smile at the sight.  No need to spoil things this early.

"I could have Azaka and Kamadiki take them outside the station to fight 
and scream all they want," Ayeka added.

"You're already sending them back to Jurai," Ryoko said. "Why not send 
these two with them?  A six-month Fold might be good...when they're 
outside the hull."

"They'd have too much fun," Max said. "Why not a good, old-fashioned 
spanking?"

"That's too cruel," Sasami objected.

"I'm sorry!" Dana and Alex exclaimed to each other.  They practically 
clung to each other and vanished among the tables, most likely to hunt 
down Bowie.

"How long do you think we have, Boss?" Max asked with his signature smirk.

Tenchi sighed. "I give them a day, maybe less."

"Two weeks," Emerson noted, "and you won't have to worry about them."

A voice came from behind Tenchi's back that sent a chill down his 
spine.  "Commodore Masaki?"

Tenchi turned slowly and schooled his face to expressionlessness. "Yes 
Ms. Lynn?"

Minmei smiled sweetly while her violet-haired companion looked to be 
stifling a groan. "I've wanted to meet you for a while, this is the 
first chance-"

"We met on the SDF-1," Tenchi stated.

"But that was different!" Minmei insisted. "Back then you were just 
Rick's friend.  Another pilot, you know?"

"What do you need, Ma'am?" Tenchi managed - barely - to keep the 
question civil.  He saw Minmei's partner wince, and felt a rush of 
sympathy for the woman.

"Why are you so mean?" Minmei cried.

Tenchi raised an eyebrow, and he could feel Ryoko tensing behind him. 
"Mean?"

"Don't try to deny it!" Minmei was beginning to attract attention from 
others in the area.  Tenchi figured enough was enough.

"I'm not 'mean', Ms. Lynn," Tenchi stated. "I simply don't like you.  
You are a spoiled manipulator that cannot accept that people are happy 
having nothing to do with you.  Now here you are deliberately making a 
scene at the wedding of two friends of mine, two friends you did your 
best to keep apart."

Tenchi turned away and walked toward the exit. "Now, if you will excuse 
me, this party is breaking up, and I have work to do."

All that followed him were stunned looks.

*******

"This is Fleet Command," Admiral Hayes' voice announced over the 
intercom. "All ships report status."

Ayeka listed with half an ear as her fellow captain's gave both verbal 
and electronic reports to the flag bridge.  In a move of surprising 
stubbornness, Admiral Hayes had insisted that the flag deck be located 
on the SDF-3's dorsal hull, in a 'command tower' with independent life 
support, communications, and shield generators.  The bridge, on the 
other hand, was deep in the hull, where Ryu-oh's commands could more 
efficiently be distributed throughout the ship.

Ayeka herself was surrounded by bio-circuitry.  She had cultivated a 
close link to her tree, ever since she was first bonded.  Now, thanks to 
Dr. Lang's innovations, she was able to link directly to the SDF-3's 
systems.  In a sense, the good doctor had turned the battle fortress 
into the largest single-pilot craft in history.  Not that she used such 
direct control.  She only personally handled maneuvering and the main 
guns.  The rest of the bridge crew were responsible for sensors, 
communications, and all weapon systems beyond the pair of heavy reflex 
cannons that dominated the forward hull.

After the six battle cruisers and twelve cruisers of the escort force 
had checked in, after the tenders and replenishment ships had been 
accounted for, Admiral Hayes addressed Ayeka through a private link. 
"Status, Captain?"

"Fold engines ready, Admiral," Ayeka replied in a crisp voice. "All 
systems optimal.  The SDF-3 is at your command."

"Take us out, Captain."

*******

"Come on, Janice!" Minmei pleaded as she dragged her partner down one of 
the Factory Satellite's emergency access corridors.

"Hold up, Lynn!" Janice insisted. "What's so important that we're going 
to miss the fold."

Minmei smirked. "We're not going to miss the fold.  I'm going to show 
that jerk..."

Janice tried to reason with Minmei as the Chinese woman dragged her to 
the life pods.  Unfortunately, Minmei was beyond reason.  Janice gave a 
surprised start when Minmei's hands flew over the controls of her chosen 
pod.

"When did you learn how to do this?"

Minmei smiled. "What, you think I've spent all my time since the Rain 
working on my singing?"

"Yes," Janice deadpanned.

"Come on, Jan!" Minmei grabbed her partner and dove into the pod.  
Seconds later, it shot toward the departing fleet as fast as the tiny 
engine could burn.

*******

"Admiral," Commodore Forsythe reported, "we're picking up a small craft 
moving toward the flet.  It will be within the fold sphere when the 
engines engage."

Lisa cursed and walked across the flag deck to the sensor plot.  
Forsythe pointed to a small red light crossing the gap between Little 
Luna and the Pioneer fleet. "No transmissions.  No time to turn it 
around.  Instruct Heinlein to shift formation to retrieve, then secure 
it for fold.  We'll deal with the idiots in the Fantoma system."

Forsythe acknowledged, and Ayeka's voice filled all compartments of the 
SDF-3 as it was relayed to the other ships. "Attention all personnel, 
space fold will commence in ninety seconds.  Secure all stations until 
fold has stabilized."

"Thirty seconds."

"Lifepod secure, Admiral," the communications officer reported.  Lisa 
simply nodded and gave one last look at the fleet formation.  All ships 
were within fifty kilometers of the SDF-3.  A tight fit given normal 
space ranges, but the battle fortress' fold system was more efficient 
than the smaller systems, and using one fold engine insured that all 
ships arrived at the same place - and time, given the distance they were 
covering.

"Fifteen seconds.  Ten.  Five.  Initiating Fold."

End Chapter 1


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