Macross Fan Fiction ❯ Honor Against Invid ❯ Alliances ( Chapter 7 )

Tonchy and Nathan lead Kharn to a sparse settlement nestled near the shadows of the huge buttes that dominated this vast sun-baked desert. As he rode into the tiny village, Kharn saw small huts and tiny houses covered with drifting smoke from warm-stoked fires. He saw the deeply-tanned people of Apache descent going about a hard day's labor; old women mending and sewing clothes, men cleaning and gutting their family's dinners, young children who reminded Kharn deeply of his own precious Josen that were busy assiting their elders with their chores, a proud people who stilled lived a way of life unblemished by the horrors from the deep stars, a pride most evident in their stares at the tall white-haired Zentraedi encased in stark black armor. Kharn's cyclone echoed harshly throughout the village, it's powerful engine tones combining mournfully with the howling wind to produce of symphony of lost hopes and dreams.

Tonchy and Nathan pulled their horses to a stop while Kharn pulled in behind them. "Eh, you remember this place Kharn?" Tonchy asked as he got off his horse.

Kharn switched off his cyclone and pulled of his helmet. "Yes, I do. It's good to see these people still thriving in this harsh land."

"Yes, it is," Tonchy said, "and we intend to make sure that remains true. Here," he said, handing the reins to his horse to Nathan, "take the horses to be watered down."

Nathan grabbed the reins and with a smile and a nod at Kharn, he rode down the main street of this tiny village. Dismounting from his cyclone, Kharn asked, "What are we doing here Tonchy?"

Tocnhy smiled wickedly. He said, "Come Kharn. Let's discuss why we are here."

Kharn felt his impatience rise, but seeing as how he had little choice if he was to get the information he wanted from Tonchy, he walked with Tonchy as the pair strode through the wind-swept village. Old women sitting outside their huts, rugs and shirts in their gnarled hands, looked on curiously as the outlanders strode confidently through their village. Tonchy explained, "Kharn, we are here to help ensure the future of these people. You are going to help us do just that."

Kharn didn't bother to hide his frustration. "I have no time for this. I want answers."

"And answers you will get but only after you help us." Tonchy's eyes glittered with glee.

"Damn it Tonchy! What happened? Did you betray our brothers to the Invid?!"

"I did no such thing," Tonchy replied vehemently. "But their actions did help resolve some lingering thoughts in my mind which is why I have returned to these people, some of the few who have understood our plight."

Kharn noticed the slight loss of Tonchy's composure, so he continued, "Where are our childen? Where is the son of Mogri? The daughter of Zevil? The twins of Delphi? Where were they taken? Why were they taken?" Kharn could feel his anger building, the Imperative slowly but surely growing within him.

Tonchy stood his ground, staring defiantly at Kharn. He said with some sorrow, "I am sorry about that tragic night Kharn. But I am glad that Josen still lives. Really I am, but I can't help that now. This, this matters to me now and if you want your answers then you have to help us."

Kharn could feel the fire burning within him. The urge to strike Tonchy down and rip the answers from him was almost overbearing. But then, one of the children, one of the sweet children who so reminded Kharn of Josen, thought he really couldn't say how or why, walked past the fueding pair carrying pails of water on a pole across his back. He smiled politely to them as he made his way home and to his waiting mother. Kharn remembered for what he pursueing, the release and freedom of the his fallen brothers' children. Though still clenching his fist, Kharn sadi through gritting teeth, "Then, what do you want?"

Tonchy smiled devilshly, all hints of anger gone from him. "All you had to do was ask. Now then, do you remember Lightfoot? The leader?"

Kharn thought for a moment. 'Yes. A proud man who sought only the continued survival of his people."

"He died five summers ago," Tonchy explained. "But his son has taken on his mantle."

"Windfeather?" Kharn asked, suddenly remembering the taught youth from years ago.

Tonchy shook his head. "For his new dream, he has renamed himself Scar, a reminder of what has been done to his people."

The wind picked up, bringing with it stinging pelts of sand and grains though Kharn barely noticed it. "I do not understand," he told Tonchy.

Tonchy explained, "With the help of the Flower of Life, Scar has had a prophetic vision, a vision of his people retaking the land from the thieves that stole it from their ancestors centuries ago."

"Retaking their land? What do you mean?" although Kharn was mot sure if he really wanted to know.

Tonchy's eyes lit up with intense fire as he explained, "Scar plans to lead his warriors in a fight against these loathsome pitiful towns in order to reclaim their lost heritage and prestige, to retake what was once theirs."

Kharn was a little dismayed. He looked around at the people as he tried to envision them going to war. But he could see the underlying pride in the males he saw; a certain confidence and renewal of spirit that he didn't remember seeing in them before when he was last here. He started to feel a slight kinship with these new-found warriors. He asked Tonchy, "And how does he plan on doing this?"

"Scar's cousin, Forge, is a mecha engineer and designer. He has learned and studied with the likes of Burke, Bronson, and even met the infamous Lang a few times. He was well on his way onto becoming a great engineer when the Backstabber made his final assault on Macross. Afterwards, Forge returned here, to his roots. Now, Scar has convinced him to scour the desert and beyond for any usuable mecha from any source. In fact, just last week, Forge and scouts came across the remains of a destroyed REF base. His glee was most apparent. Any mecha he finds, he brings here, to modify it and make it workable. These people have quite an arsenal built up by now." Tonchy uttered a malicious laugh.

Kharn pointed out, "What about the Invid? Surely they can sense such an amount of mecha?"

Tonchy laughed even louder, stirring the curiosity of some nearby children. "What about them? If those foolish humans could hide their base of thousands from them, then we can surely accomplish the same feat. Besides, our remoteness combined with our activating the mecha at certain known times preclude their discovering us. Besides, our quarrel is not with them."

"Our quarrel?" Kharn asked. "Why are you helping these people Tonchy?"

Tonchy's expression held puzzlement. "I would surely expect you to understand why." He waved his hand around, encompassing the people they could see. "Their people and our people have shared a similiar fate Kharn. We both have had something stolen from us, our heritage, our pride, our future. Though we can no longer lash out at the Masters for their crimes and lies against the Zentraedi, I will help these people overcome their misery and not suffer the fate of our fellow brothers."

Kharn could indeed understand Tonchy's reasoning. Perhaps that is why he has always felt...what was that human term...at home here, if only for a little while.

They had reached the watering troughs where the pair found Nathan watering the horses while some children helepd scrubbed down them down. Nathan beamed when he saw Kharn. "Hey there pardner, you ready to join the fight yet?"

Kharn walked up to the brash youth. He said," This is no game Nathan. Ever since I have known you, you have seemed to take efforts such as these as playthings or dress-up games. This is serious. Are you prepared for what might follow?"

Nathan unleashed his killer smile. Twirling one of his energy revolvers in his hand, he repleid confidently, "I'm ready for anything." The seriousness apparent in Nathan's crystal-blue bombardier eyes unsettled Kharn. Though he was still unsure if Nathan had matured enough, he wondered what could have happened in the intervening years to so change the young boy he once knew.

Nathan said, "Tonch, you told him the plan yet?"

"I'm getting to that now," Tonchy said. "Look, Kharn, our only problem right now, the same problem everyone else has, is protoculture. We need a lot of it for Forge's mechas."

"So, where do you plan on getting some?" Kharn asked.

"Quite simply really. You see Kharn, there are quite a bit of harvesting farms in this area. Seems the Flower can thrive even in this hellish land. The harvests are collected from the surrounding towns and then sent by train to Ft. Garner. There, the harvest is converted to protoculture, some of which is stored there while the rest is sent by train to an Invid hive."

"You intend on stealing the protoculture from this fort?"

"The fort is too well guarded at the moment." Tonchy smile wickedly. "No, we are going to rob the train. And you are going to help us."

The Sheriff shoved the handcuffed Jace harshly into his office. "Are you crazy? What if someone had seen you?" the Sheriff asked though Jace was confused by his questions. Just as the Sheriff was about to shut the door, he saw Ol' Mort stumbling his way. "Oh no," the Sheriff mumbled. "Keep quiet," he warned Jace as he quickly went out the door, slamming it shut.

Ol' Mort weaved his way up to the Sheriff. "Did you-did you-you get those robbies Sheriff?" he asked in a stupor.

The Sheriff replied as calmly as he could, "Everything's alright Mort. You just gone on back down to Sally's. She'll take good care of you."

But Ol' Mort wasn't about to be dismissed that easily. "But, Sheriff, you know howse dangerous those robbies can be. You know. Theyish (hiccup) they (hiccup) them (belch) dangerous."

The Sheriff said with a soothing manner, "It's alright Mort. I got them. I'll take care of them. You go on back to Sally's now, you hear?"

"That's good to hear Sheriff," Ol' Mort muttered. He began weaving his way back down the main street. "The Sheriff's a good man. Yep. A mighty fine citishezen, if I do say so (hiccup)."

The Sheriff breathed deeply then went back into his office. Jace, incensed, said, "What the hell is all of this?"

The Sheriff locked the door and closed the shutters on his windows. The whole office grew noticablely darker, but Jace could still see the pinpoints that were the Sheriff's crystal-blue bombardier eyes. The Sheriff looked over Jace then asked, "Who are you? Where is Lt. Miller?"

"Lt. Miller? I don't know no Miller," Jace said, not sure what to make of the Sheriff's narrow construed look.

"Are you with the Pioneer Mission?" the Sheriff demanded. "Or are you some yellow scavenger that found himself some armor? Answer me!" The Sheriff drew his energy revolver with great speed and aimed it at Jace.

"Okay, okay, now hold on a second here," Jace said quickly. "I'm Lt. Jace Stromer. I'm with the 14th Neptune Division."

The Sheriff, gun still aimed at Jace, moved to see the rank and insignia on Jace's left shoulder pad. He asked, "You with Point J?"

Jace blinked in confusion. "Point J? How do you know about that?"

"Where is Miller? He was supposed to contact me yesterday." Suddenly a soft succession of taps was heard on the door. Moving slowly and still keeping his aim on Jace, the Sheriff looked out the small peephole and then unlocked the door. In walked a stunningly beautiful dark-haired woman. Her long hair was held in place by a silver headband.

Jace muttered under his breath, "Hello, sweetie."

The Sheriff said, "Miranda, are you alright? I was concerned for you during the ruckus this morning."

Miranda said, "Yes, I'm fine, but look what I found."

Miranda stepped aside and Jace's mouth hit the floor when he saw Josen walk into the office, a bemused curious look upon his face. The Sheriff quickly closed the door and gazed at Josen. "He looks partly like a Zentraedi," he mused.

"I found him wandering the streets and thought it might be best to bring him here," Miranda explained staring intently at Jace. He found her dark eyes to be quite exotic and intoxicating, but he couldn't help staring down at the defenseless Josen.

The Sheriff noticed that and he asked, "Do you know him? He's not from around here. Is he with you? Or with your companion? There were two cyclones parked out front of Sally's. Now there is only one. Is this child with you?"

Jace squirmed, not sure of how to reply. But he couldn't see a way out of this, especially if this guy knew about Point J, his old base. Finally, Jace pleaded, "Leave the kid alone alright. He has no part in this. He's innocent. C'mon."

"I'm not going to harm him," the Sheriff said and for some reason, Jace believed him. "But I need to know what happened to Miller."

"I found no recent tracks that could belong to him nor any trace that he was at the meeting place," Miranda said.

"Look, I don't know of any Miller okay, but Point J is gone. It's been annihilated," Jace said.

"Annihilated?" The Sheriff looked completely shocked while Miranda stood ther and said a silent prayer for the recent dead.

Jace sat down morosely in a sqeuky chair, his face sullen with memories. "Yeah, the Invid took it out recently. I may be-I am the only survivor," Jace cried, the memories overwhelming him. So many good people lost, so many.....

The Sheriff holstered his gun and leaned against a desk. "Well, that's great. Now, the mission is in jeopardy perhaps even scrubbed."

"But how?" Miranda asked. "We have no way to get in touch with them."

"We must find a way," the Sheriff said as he walked over to a map of the surrounding region hanging on his wall. As he stared at it, behind him, Josen was drawn to a rack holding a score of rifles including a Wolverine. He stood there before it, his gaze intensifying as he looked over the pristine weapons. Something within the boy stirred, something dark and ancient.

Caught up in his remorse, Jace managed to ask, "What are you talking about? Who are you?"

"Oh, sorry," the Sheriff muttered, too caught up in his own thinking. He took a set of keys off his belt and tossed them to Miranda. "Here, free him."

Miranda went over and uncuffed Jace. He could feel ther warmth and sensuality flowing form her and his heartbeat fluttered. Her scent was overpowering and threatned to fill the void within Jace. "Um, th, thanks," Jace stuttered.

"You're welcome," Miranda said, her rich voice echoing in Jace's ears.

"Miranda, go retrieve our guest's cyclone from in front of Sally's before anyone else sees it. The confusion and scare brought on by this morning's events won't last long."

"Of course." She went out the front door, but gazed longingly at Jace before she slipped outside.

Rubbing his wrists, Jace turned his attention to the Sheriff who still pondering over the map. He asked,"Do you mind telling me what's going on?"

"I'm sorry to keep you in the dark. For starters, we have to hide your presence here. These townfolks are very suspcious of soldiers and outsiders. They want no more trouble than they already have. In fact, that's why they were hanging your friend this morning."

"I wouldn't exactly call him a friend," Jace muttered.

Confused, the Sheriff said, "But you were trying to rescue him, weren't you?"

Jace smiled politely, "Long story, but you were saying?" He walked over to Josen who was still gazing upon the rack of rifles. Jace leaned down and said, "You okay kiddo?"

Josen looked sharply at Jace and for a moment, Jace was scared by the sight of the young boy's eyes, the intensity of them. But then, Josen smiled at him and nodded.

The Sheriff continued, "These surrounding towns all help with the harvesting of the Flower of Life. That harvest is then transported by train here to Ft. Garner where it is processed into protoculture by Invid methods. Myself and certain others were acting in junction with the intelligence forces of Point J in keeping track of Invid movements, harvesting times and layouts, train scheduling, and amounts of protoculture. Lt. Miller was my specific contact."

Jace shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry man, but I don't know anything about that stuff. I'm just a VT pilot."

"Can't be helped. But I needed to warn Miller."

"About what?"

The Sheriff shrugged. "I've been hearing rumors lately that the Indians here on what's left of this reservation might be inciting to attack. What, I'm not exactly sure of, but the protoculture and Flower of Life harvests would present a mighty tempting target."

"And?" Jace asked curiously.

"Using the information I and my fellow spies collected, Miller told me about the plans for a special ops group from Point J in disrupting this supply line, wrecking it for months perhaps and maybe even procuring protoculture for your base. Nothing specific mind you, but he at least informed of the plan's existence. That's the last I heard from him. I don't know, I just get the gut feeling that that group has already left to enact their plan. But if as you say, your base is destroyed, then they have no backup and no place to return to. May even be an Invid trap."

Jace was beside himself. "You mean ,there might be other survivors of Point J? Out there? We gotta help them!"

The Sheriff nodded. "I know, but the unknown factor are these Indians. What are they up to?"

Jace couldn't hold in his excitement nor his frustration. "What are we going to do?"

The Sheriff studied his map in closer detail, trying to his best to guesstimate on what might happen out there in the middle of this god-forsaken desert. "The Fort," he murmured before shaking his head. Finally the Sheriff smirked, "Well, hard as it may sound, first we have to find a way to make sure no one robs that train."