Macross Fan Fiction ❯ Underground Down Under ❯ Words & The Guantlet ( Chapter 2 )

Robotech: Underground Down Under

Chapter II: Words and The Guantlet

Holding due course for Harfleur. Follow, follow! Gordon Sabol had good reason to believe he, or at least his mind, was insane. Still and all, it helped to have a voice in his head reciting random lines from Shakespeare to help him stay awake and focused; the monotony of flying over a featureless sea in total radio silence would have been unbearable otherwise. The Alpha's navigational computer beeped a warning: by the flight plan Bekka Cade had plotted, it was time to turn due west for the final approach into New Zealand's North Island. So far there was no sign of any Invid patrols out of their South Island hive. He configured to Guardian as he reached the beach at a site ironically named Doubtless Bay. As far north an area as that was far less likely to have prowling, Invid sympathizing eyes, Sabol reasoned.

Sabol was asking his brain to explain then, why he was surrounded by people who stepped out of the forest around the clearing he'd landed in within moments of him popping the Veritech's canopy. The raggedly dressed humans, about eight all together, stared in awe at the Wolverine assault rifle he leveled at them. None appeared to be armed. Simple, explained his brain. They're just not Invid sympathizers.

Finally, one of the people called out with what sounded like a British accent, "Do you speak English?"

"Yes, of course," Sabol answered. He took a deep breath and clicked the Wolverine's safety on. Glancing at them again, he removed his helmet and leapt down from the cockpit. It occurred to him now that he should have expected the northernmost areas to be more heavily populated; after all, they'd be fleeing the Invid presence further to the south.

An older man gestured enthusiastically to the Alpha. "That's a Veritech! Are you with Admiral Hunter, or the United Earth Forces?"

Sabol shook his head sadly.

"Leonard's…uh, what was it? Army of the Southern Cross?" the man tried again.

"I'm afraid not," Sabol had to answer. "The UEF and ASC are gone. The Invid destroyed them. As for Admiral Hunter, there's no sign of him yet." The crowd looked at him blankly.

A woman tried to explain: "We've had no news in months. The Invid…Are they those crab-like creatures we've seen in the skies?"

Sabol nodded. "The Invid invaded Earth searching for their Flowers of Life. I'm with the resistance. I um, just flew across the Pacific from South America."

The older man nodded comprehendingly. "The night they came…it was as if they came out of the thunderclouds and started blasting."

"The whole world experienced that storm," Sabol acknowledged. "An aftereffect of the fold…uh, faster than light travel that brought them here, apparently."

"The-They captured many people. Like my son," the man said, his voice cracking.

"The Invid have taken human slaves to work on their Protoculture farms," Sabol explained unhappily. "Your son was probably taken to the hive on the South Island. He should be ok until the Expeditionary Force retakes the planet from the Invid."

Several of the- what did they used to be called- Kiwis began weeping; from relief, sadness, or who knows what reason. Sabol regarded them wordlessly for a long time before a teenager, spoke up excitedly: "Are you here to rescue them?"

Sabol's face fell. "No. I'm just one man, with one fighter. That Invid hive has dozens, or hundreds. But I'm on an important mission to gather the information that will bring this war to an end all the more quickly. Uh, I'm afraid I can't say anymore than that."

"This Flower…what do you call it?" a boy inquired.

"The Flower of Life," Sabol replied.

"What is it?"

It wasn't hard to find a few…There was a small grove of the things practically at the group's feet.

"The stinging plants?" the boy asked in disbelief.

"These plants are the lifeblood of the Invid," Sabol elaborated. "They are the original source of the Protoculture energy which fuels our vehicles and weapons. While they are still on Earth, the Invid will never leave willingly."

"Then if we destroy these Flowers," a young woman piped up, "the Invid won't be drawn to our land?"

"It's not as simple as that. Nobody can destroy the Flowers more quickly than their spores take root . Even the UEG tried to defoliate regions on an experimental basis and utterly failed."

"But what can we do?" the woman wailed in despair.

"You can do what you can," Sabol answered vaguely after a long moment. He tried to make them understand. "You can't fight the Invid with no weapons, but you can hide from them and deny them your labor. You can aid any resistance fighters you come across. You can refuse to give up, because as long as you're alive, you still have a chance for the future."

Words. Words. Sabol's heart strained to find some way to help them, knowing all the while that to do so would jeopardize his mission. After several hours of fitful sleep with his new friends keeping watch, Sabol prepared to move out just before sunset. How harshly can history judge a man who tried to do the right thing? his mind asked. As if anyone in this day and age could possess the moral certitude to presume to know what was right anymore.

Almost before he knew what he was doing, he presented them with his Wolverine rifle and a bandolier of ammunition. Sabol explained that it was a last resort to defend themselves; the rifle's ability, after all, to penetrate Invid armor was highly dubious. The Kiwis' gratitude for such a gesture had a sincerity that warmed Sabol's heart. Sincerity and gratitude, it occurred to him, were almost always the first casualties to desperation. Lifting off in Guardian, Sabol hovered above the clearing for a moment. Then he rocked his wings in salute, transformed to Fighter mode and accelerated off into the distance.

A broiling wake of phosphoresce trailed the Alpha skimming just above the sea. The last rays of sunlight had vanished and they sky filled with a multitude of stars. By crossing the Coral Sea gauntlet at night, Sabol had hoped that Invid patrol activity would be lower. What he was most apprehensive about was that he was uncertain of just how far the Invid hive Protoculture sensors were effective. During the first leg of the journey, he would pass no closer than about 700 miles from any one Invid hive, and the sensors were unlikely to pick up one Veritech hugging the ground at that range. The real problem was going to be crossing the Torres Strait. Hives located at Cape York, Australia and near Daru, New Guinea meant that no matter what route he took, he'd come within 75 miles of an Invid presence. The autopilot had the Alpha's altitude steady, so Sabol took the time to record a mayday to transmit in the event he did come under attack in the strait.

"This is Gordon Sabol from Valhalla. I am on an urgent mission for Colonel Wolff to contact the ACIP, but I have come under Invid attack in the Torres Strait. If any resistance squad can hear my voice, I am in urgent need of assistance. Please respond. This message will repeat."

Sabol transmitted the message again just as he pulled out of a high-speed hammerhead turn and loosed a flock of missiles had his pursers, downing two. That the message no longer accurately described his position was not something that could be helped; he didn't trust himself to record another in the thick of combat.

Sabol dodged another flurry of annihilation discs from an Armored Scout and then drove it off with a burst of fire from the cannon slung under his right wing. This was insane- he was insane- for even thinking about trying to force a strait that close to two Invid Hives. They'd gone easy on him, only bothering to send about 15 fighters after him, but Sabol's lack of talent in flying a Veritech was painfully obvious. He'd used up half his missiles and only downed six. Of course, that allowed him to join the coveted ranks of ace-in-a-day pilots; a Pyrrhic victory for certain if he never lived to boast about it.

The Invid had detected him while in the strait. Fortunately, Sabol had managed to put some distance between himself and the hive before turning to face the fighters. The Scouts had chased him doggedly west across the Gulf of Carpentaria towards Cape Arnhem and showed no signs of giving up.

The hammerhead had gained Sabol several thousand feet of altitude. He was still debating what to do next when his collision alarm began shrieking at him. Out of the corner of his left eye, Sabol caught sight of the red blur of an Invid fighter making a suicide run straight for his cockpit. He ducked instinctively as he threw the Alpha into a dive to the right. The Scout impacted the Alpha's helplessly raised left wing and shattered it, palling shards of metal into the fuselage and cockpit. It was nothing short of miraculous that Sabol's body armor absorbed the impact of fragments intact. But the wounds which peppered the left side of his body were the least of Sabol's concerns at that moment. That honor went to staying conscious as the Veritech tumbled in a clockwise spin towards the ocean far below.