The destruction of Sara Base on Mars was in some ways typical of the setbacks experienced by the newly formed World Unification Alliance, the unfortunate result of suspicion, misinformation, and manipulation by an unnamed collective of separatist factions. That Northeast Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere could be so easily duped into believing the base a military installation was all the more cause for concern. But more than that, the attack upon the base marked the first instance that humankind had taken warfare off the planet and brought it to the stars.
Malachi Cain, Prelude to Doomsday: A History of the Global Civil War
MARS!
Lisa stared at the barren world as it came into view through the forward bays. Arid, lifeless, named for the ancient god of war, it was like an angry red wound in her heart. Eight years earlier her love had died here, on this world that she was destined to visit, one that had visited her so often in tear-filled dreams. But even so she couldn’t suppress the belief, the hope, that one of the many survival scenarios she had played endlessly through these lost years would run to completion. The last time she had seen and held Karl Riber was the evening he had told her of his assignment to Mars Base Sara.
“The Visitor” had crash landed on Macross Island three years earlier, and the Internationalists—men like her father, Admiral Hayes, Senator Russo, Gloval, and the rest—were doing their best to bring about world unity, centered on the restoration of the SDF-1 and the potential threat to Earth posed by the arrival of that ship built by an advanced race of intellectual and physical giants. But peace and unity were not so easily secured. Factionalism was rampant and borders changed overnight, sides were drawn and redrawn, bombs were dropped, and the killing continued unabated.
She had known Karl only a short time but had loved him from the start. He had been assigned to her father as an aide and was doing his best to be the soldier Admiral Hayes expected at his side. But through and through Karl was a peace-loving man, a sensitive scholar who, like others of his type, was looking forward to a day when the bloodshed would end and humankind would begin to focus itself on its destiny, its true place among the stars. The arrival of the SDF-1 had further inflamed his passion for peace; but when even that event failed to put an end to the reigning madness, there was nothing left for him but cynicism and the need to escape.
That farewell night found Karl and Lisa together at the Hayes estate in upstate New York. They sat together under a grand old tree under star-filled skies, and Karl told her that he had been reassigned to Base Sara, a scientific observation post on Mars. He had pointed out the planet and confessed how torn he was to be leaving her. But there was no place on Earth for him any longer; even the Robotech project had been co-opted by the militaristic power wing of the Alliance. Instead of profiting from the miraculous find, they were merely gearing up for an anticipated war, a projected war.
She knew it was the right move for him, even if it was the wrong move for them. But that night her young mind had seized on a plan she hoped would keep them together: She would enlist in the Defense Force and would apply for an assignment to Sara Base.
She had confessed her love for Karl.
And lost him to the stars.
But she made good her promise, and with her father’s assistance had received a security clearance and an assignment to Macross Island to work under Dr. Lang aboard the SDF-1.
She and Karl never saw each other again. But there were letters and tapes and the occasional transworld calls. Karl was in his element there, and all signs had pointed to her being able to join him soon. Until war had reached out its long arm and seized on the one place humankind had yet to spill blood. Sara Base became a graveyard overnight, almost a symbol of humankind’s need to take war with it wherever it set foot in the universe.
The SDF-1 became her future from that moment on. She had thrown herself into the project with a fever born of forgetting that meant for rapid advancement but left little time for personal growth. Vanessa and Claudia chided her for her attachment to the ship, and sometimes she knew that she did come across as cold and distant.
The old sourpuss!
It was left unfinished between her and Karl, as if emotional time had been frozen on the night she learned about Base Sara’s destruction.
This planetary touchdown then was more than a mere landing to her; it was an emotional pilgrimage. Karl Riber was alive in her heart, moment to moment; to her it meant that he could really be alive, one of a group of survivors here. He had said to her, We’ll be together again someday, when the Earth is at peace. Love was simply not meant to perish in angry flames; love couldn’t be extinguished by war!
Gloval was shouting her name; she turned a confused face toward him, caught between past and future in a present that was of her own making.
“Lisa, what’s wrong? Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”
She composed herself and awaited his command.
“Send out a Cat’s-Eye recon unit. Order them to report any anomalies in their findings—any at all.”
Lisa turned to her task. Let him be alive, she prayed to herself.
* * *
The Cat’s-Eye recon scanned the deserted base and radioed its findings to the bridge of the SDF-1: no sign of the enemy, no sign of life of any kind. And yet, inexplicably, data continued to pour into the onboard computers. Somehow one of the Sara Base computers had gone online. Captain Gloval was convinced of this much. Still, wary of a possible enemy trap, he convened a special meeting with colonels Maistroff and Caruthers and high-ranking officials of Macross City to discuss the prospect of setting the giant space fortress down on the surface of Mars.
There were two reasons for attempting such a landing, as opposed to holding the fortress in low orbit and using cargo ships and drones to ferry up the much-needed supplies. The primary reason was that a setdown would enable ground crews to repair damage sustained during four months of space warfare. Most of these repairs could not be effected in deep space or even in low orbit without the constant threat of enemy sneak attacks and the overwhelming logistical problems that extended extravehicular activity would entail. The second advantage, although less clear-cut, was of greater concern to Gloval and Lang than to the Macross City leaders, for whom replenished supplies was reason enough. The fact was that the SDF-1 had never been landed; the closest it had come was more a controlled drop than an actual landing, months ago when the antigravity devices had torn through the hull of the ship and it had fallen back to its docking bay supports on Macross Island. The lower gravity on Mars would allow engineering to stage a dress rehearsal of the landing they would have to perform once the fortress reached Earth.
Recalling that first day of attack, Gloval resisted an urge to dwell on how defenseless he had felt with the ship grounded. There was no assurance that this wouldn’t be the case again, but he had to convince himself that the advantages outweighed the risks.
It took two days to bring the SDF-1 down.
Astrogation held her in stationary orbit for what seemed an eternity, and then the fortress was allowed to begin its slow nerve-racking descent to the surface of Mars. Gloval sat at the helm wondering what surprise Lang’s half grasp on Robotechnology might result in this time, but to his relief and to the delight of everyone onboard, the SDF-1 was set down without incident. After months in space it was difficult to believe they were down on solid ground once again. It made no difference that this wasn’t their homeworld; after all, humankind had once occupied this planet, and that was reason enough to call it home for the moment.
Half of Macross City jammed itself onto the observation deck after the all-clear was sounded and the ship had docked. At least half that number would have gladly disembarked then and there to begin new lives for themselves; but there would be no liberty for civilians at this port.
Gloval continued to have misgivings—he felt as if he was standing on solid ground with nothing beneath his feet. For this reason he ordered the ship down at a point several kilometers from Sara Base. Destroids were then deployed to secure a supply route, with squadrons of Veritech fighters launched to provide cover. The Cat’s-Eye recon plane continued its sweeps over the area, and long-range radar watched the skies. When Gloval was convinced that there was no threat to their position or operation, he ordered that the ship be moved closer to the base, employing the auxiliary lifters and gravity control system, something they wouldn’t have been able to do on Earth.
Now the base complex, what remained of it, lay spread out below the ship. From the bridge, the crew could observe the destruction that had been visited upon it, a grim reminder of the days when humankind was at war with itself. It was a forlorn-looking place covered with debris swept in by the continuous Martian winds.
The supply routes secure, Battloids began their patrol, gatling weapons ready. A long line of wheeled and treaded transport vehicles now stretched from the loading bays of the Daedalus and the Prometheus to the heart of Sara.
Lisa was waiting for the right moment; if she didn’t act quickly, though, there wouldn’t be another chance. Data from the base was still coming in, and Gloval had yet to organize a recon team to investigate the source of the transmissions. Finally she gathered up enough nerve and turned to the captain.
“Requesting your permission to leave the ship, sir, and recon the interior of the base.”
The captain regarded her with concern. “But Lisa—”
She interrupted him. “I’d like to check out the source of those signals, sir. There could be survivors here!” Only when she caught the look of protective paternalism in his eyes did she break down. “Please, sir. It’s important to me.” She had no idea whether Gloval knew anything about her past; but he knew her as a crewmember, knew when she needed his attention.
Claudia offered an unsolicited assist. “I’ll cover her duties here,” she told the captain.
Gloval thought it over. Anyone who was within 500 kilometers of the base would have already come running. But there was something so personal in her insistence that he decided to allow her to go.
“But I want you to take two security personnel with you!” he called out as she hurried from the bridge.
* * *
Lisa ignored the captain’s command; after all, it hadn’t been issued as a direct order. She outfitted herself with helmet and environment suit, radio, and laser sidearm and took charge of a small personnel carrier from supply.
Had she been thinking about it, she might have compared her short ride across the Martian wastes to the driving training she’d undergone on the moon years ago, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She had to find Karl and renew their life together or discover for herself that he was dead.
The base had the familiar look and feel of the countless war torn cities she’d experienced on Earth—not voluntarily abandoned but simply cut down in its prime. All life had been sucked from the place in an instant, and that sort of ending always left ghosts lingering about. She could sense their presence all around her, almost as if they were still confused by what had occurred here and were now demanding an explanation from this stranger who was visiting their resting place. Yes, it was like those ravaged cities but more so: The howling of the winds was louder and angrier, the soil appeared more blood-stained, and there was never a blue sky here.
She used the homing device to direct her to the source of the transmissions received by the SDF-1. They emanated from a large building, central to the complex, that had served as the communications center. She entered this through the blown front hatchway and made her way through deserted halls to the computer room, the sound of her own breathing heavy in her ears. Everywhere she looked there was evidence of the disaster. The scientists who were stationed here must have had some sort of warning, though, because there were no bodies lying about—how she had feared that!—just general disarray, as if there had been a last-minute effort to collect what they could and leave this place before the sky fell.
At last she reached computer control. She stood motionless in the doorway and peered into the deserted room: chairs tipped over, papers strewn about, a carpet of glass shards from blown monitor screens wall-to-wall. But at the far end of the room there were flashing console lights, greens and reds, and an on-line computer frantically emptying its memory banks across a monitor screen no eyes were meant to read, like an infant left crying in a crib. Lisa walked over to the machine and shut it down. She turned and took another look around the room, puzzling over its emptiness.
So there was no half-starved band of survivors huddled in one sealed room using the computer as shipwrecked sailors would a signal fire. Just a machine that had somehow activated itself.
The way memories did.
* * *
Hidden in a deep chasm fifteen kilometers from Sara Base, Khyron and his attack force of 200 Battlepods waited. The Backstabber himself occupied his Officer’s Pod, a mecha different from the rest, with lasers protruding like whiskers from its elongated snout and two arms that were deadly cannons. He ingested the dried and intoxicating leaves of the Invid Flower while monitoring reports from his squad leaders who were holding at other points along the perimeter.
A Micronian recon ship had already overflown the canyon and failed to detect the presence of his troops. The abandoned base was surrounded, the gravity mines were in place, and the fortress had set down just where he had predicted it would. The foolish Micronians had taken the bait—an on-line computer—and the trap was almost ready to be sprung. Soon he would capture Zor’s ship, for the glory of the Zentraedi! And for the honor of Khyron. It would be a shame if he was forced to take on the fortress himself. He did so want the credit to go to Breetai. If only things weren’t going so slowly. The leaves always made him somewhat impatient.
“Gerao, aren’t those gravity mines ready yet?” he shouted into his comlink mike.
The Battlepod speaker crackled with static and the monitor erupted into patternless noise bars before Gerao’s face appeared on the screen. His droid team was operating at almost three kilometers below the surface. Gerao may have won the collision bet, but it didn’t pay to best one’s commander. Khyron laughed to himself.
“The energy accumulation is up to seventy percent, my lord. Not much longer.”
“Blast it, this waiting is irritating me! Drive those droids harder, Gerao, or I’ll leave you buried on this godforsaken world. You have my word on it!”
Gerao’s emphatic salute signaled that he understood Khyron’s threat completely. He signed off. Khyron began to drum his fingers on the console. Zor’s ship, he thought to himself. Why was Commander in Chief Dolza wasting his time with this one when there were countless worlds left to conquer? Since when were the Zentraedi errand boys? If the Robotech Masters were so desperate about getting Zor’s Protoculture matrix back, they could go retrieve it themselves. What did Khyron care about Protoculture? It was the Invid Flowers that were important to him… He picked up one of the dried petals and regarded it lovingly: Here was the true power.
As Khyron was placing the petal in his mouth, the face of one of his troops surfaced on the Officer’s Pod commo screen.
“We’ve waited long enough, Commander,” the soldier said. “I’m going in now. Any longer and we will jeopardize our mission.”
To Khyron’s amazement, the soldier’s Battlepod fired its thrusters and began to lift off from the chasm floor. Was he seeing things or had this fool actually decided to use his own initiative? Khyron was as fond of insolence as anyone, but this was pushing things too far. He allowed the pod to climb almost to the rim of the chasm before bringing up one of the cannon arms of his mecha and firing. The Battlepod took a direct hit, turned end over end, and plummeted and crashed on the chasm floor.
The pilots of two other pods hopped their crafts over to their fallen comrade and checked his status.
“He’s still alive, my lord.”
“So much the worse for him, then,” yelled Khyron. “If I can wait here patiently, so can the rest of you. The next one who disobeys my orders will meet a worse fate. I promise you that!”
Khyron was imagining his underlings stiffening into postures of salute inside the pods when the voice of Gerao entered the head-set.
“My lord, I fear that use of the cannon may have compromised our position. The Micronian recon plane is circling back in this direction.”
“The recon plane! Gerao, are you ready with the mines?”
“Just ten percent more to go.”
Khyron slapped his hands down on the pod console. “Ninety percent will have to be good enough. You have my permission to attack!”
* * *
Claudia was worried: There had been no word from Lisa for almost an hour now. The incoming data from the base had terminated, but the seismic sensors were picking up something new. Captain Gloval and Vanessa were trying to make sense of the readings.
“Nearby in the mountains, I think—a disturbance or explosion,” said Vanessa.
“A landslide, perhaps.”
“No, there’s too much sonic attached to it. It must have been an explosion.”
Gloval turned to Claudia. “Instruct the Cat’s-Eye to make another pass over the eleven o’clock zone at the fifteen-kilometer perimeter. And see to it that recon readings are patched into the main screen here.”
Claudia contacted the Cat’s-Eye, and within minutes new data was filling the screen: The sensors indicated hundreds of individual mecha units moving in from the cavernous mountains that surrounded Sara Base.
“Battlepods!” said Gloval. He ordered Claudia to sound general quarters. “Recall all transport vehicles immediately and scramble the Veritech fighters! They won’t catch us napping this time!” Gloval paced the bridge, then threw himself into the command chair. “Activate the gravity control system and prepare the ship for takeoff.”
Claudia swung around from her terminal. “But Captain, Lisa’s still out there. She’ll never make it back in time.”
Gloval waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal. “I told her I didn’t want her to enter that base. Now she’ll have to come up in one of the VTs.”
Claudia hid a look of concern from Gloval and carried out her orders. But something was wrong: The ship wasn’t lifting off. The gravity control system wasn’t damaged, there were correct readings on all the sensors, but the SDF-1 would not rise. It bellowed and shuddered like some captured beast.
“Captain,” Vanessa managed to shout above the noise, “the seismic sensor indicates an intense gravity field underlying the base!”
Gloval leaped from his seat to study the threat board. “Gravity mines! So this is what the enemy has in mind—they mean to pin us down like a trapped insect. Shut down all engines before she comes apart at the seams!”
“Battlepods!” said Claudia.
Gloval and the bridge crew turned to face the front bays: The Martian sky was filled with enemy mecha.