Macross Fan Fiction ❯ Underground Down Under ❯ Shame and Eternal Shame... ( Chapter 11 )

Robotech: Underground Down Under

Chapter XI: Shame and Eternal Shame...

"I'll take the first watch, mates," Pike said, crawling under the entrance to the net-tent, dragging his sniper rifle and the case holding its nightscope. The material that made up the net-tent was marvelous in simplicity, especially for the age of Robotech. Not only did it make for a spacious insect-free interior, but it effectively hid the campfire Owens had built in the middle from watching eyes above.

Gordon Sabol warmed his hands, staring into the grimly into the flames as they methodically consumed the tinder Owens brought along. He looked up to find Jen Radice studying him intently on the other side of the tent.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?" she asked quietly.

Sabol noticed out of the corner of his eye that Owens was fixing her with a glare, but answered: "What is it?"

"I don't mean to pry, Gordon" she began slowly. She considered for a moment, then continued, "Well, actually, I do mean to pry. But you're calm and cheerful one moment, then grim and sulky the next, and I was wondering why."

"It's none of our business, Jen!" Owens told her angrily.

"No," Sabol said, looking back at the fire. "You're the closest thing I have to friends, and you have a right to know why I act the way I do. Or at least as best as I can put my finger on it."

There were only fifteen of them. Fifteen Bioroids. Child's play, really, for a squadron of the TASC elite Armored Gyro Assault Coptors.

"Driss, uou've condemned us! Do you understand that?! You've killed all of us! All of us!" Second Lieutenant Sabol screamed in desperation. It was the last day of the Second Robotech War and the Bioroids were descending on the mere four AGACs left guarding Moonbase ALUCE-1. There was no military justification for the attack on the Earth outpost; save perhaps vengeance for the base's role as a stopover for Southern Cross assault waves aimed at flanking the Robotech Masters fleets. But the lack of military necessity hadn't stopped the Masters from savaging Monument City, nor would it save ALUCE.

Lieutenant Driss's squadron of AGACs were ordered to defend ALUCE. But the man had not seen his destiny sitting out the greatest battle in two decades on the sidelines. He disobeyed orders and departed for Earth, followed by his squadron. Except for one flight leader and the three men who entrusted their lives to him.

"Fuck you, Sabol!" Driss shrieked before breaking the connection amidst a burst of static.

Spread out across the moonscape before ALUCE, four Battloids waited in concealment for the Masters' drones. One of them rose to its feet and fired a burst from its hand cannon.

"No, Jim, it's too soon!" Sabol yelled at him as the orange Bioroids scattered into groups of three. The return fire from a dozen hovercrafts unseamed the Gyro Coptor and blew it to pieces.

Sabol's hand jerked in surprise; both his cluster missiles launched at the mass of Bioroids. In a moment of horror, Sabol realized he had fired too soon: One missile missed entirely, its bomblets sinking slowly towards the moon's surface; the other by sheer chance caught two of the nearest Bioroid triumvirate in a shotgun-like cloud and disintegrated them. As if in blind rage from the death of its brothers, the third Bioroid charged right at Sabol, firing wildly. A burst from the AGAC's left thrust jets, built into the two rotor blades on each side, easily slipped the Battloid out of harm's way. Sabol's accurate return blast practically cut the Bioroid in two and sent it tumbling in a wild spin straight into the ground, shattering it on impact.

"Sir, behind you, seven o'clock!" Black Two warned.

Sabol pivoted the AGAC as the first annihilation discs from the Bioroid's hovercraft began hitting the surface several feet away as the pilot walked the shots towards him. The accurate cannon blast decapitated the Bioroid neatly.

Sabol was turning back to the engagement when Two's voice came on again, alarmed: "No, no, there's another one!" Of course, you idiot, Sabol screamed at himself, they don't operate singly in combat! At that instant the second Bioroid leapt from its speeding hoversled. The platform severed the AGAC's legs and slammed the Battloid face first into the lunar soil. Recovering from the shock, Sabol attempted to bring the Battloid's cannon up to fire. Materializing from the cloud of dust stirred up by the impact, the Bioroid saw what he was trying to do and crushed the Battloid's right arm beneath its foot.

"Help!" Sabol cried, "Two! Four! Anyone!"

Desperately, he began to spin the AGAC's rotor blades in the hopes of taking out one of the Bioroid's legs. The Bioroid pilot again anticipated his action, shattering the rotor hub with a kick and then playfully peeling back the nearest blade within reach. At any second the Bioroid would ventilate the AGAC's pilot compartment and kill him. Raw terror surged through Sabol's veins at the prospect of his imminent death. That all his years of life, his dreams and being should evaporate into nothingness.

"Sir," Four yelled over the net in horror, "Their troop carrier, it's-"

Darkness.

"That Bioroid saved my life by absorbing the brunt of the concussion wave when the assault craft fired a fission beam at ALUCE-1," Sabol told them. "The surface of the base was razed, but the underground facilities remained marginally functional. They rescued me and eventually transferred me back to Earth. I haven't felt right since that day, if you know what I mean. Whenever something is going right, I know it means something is lurking just out of sight. So I just can't let myself drop my guard down like I did that day. I even hear a voice in my head from time to time."

Sabol was rather surprised that they didn't regard him as someone with horns after he let that last statement slip.

"Well, it's not as if the UEF had much room to retain psychiatrists, right?" Radice asked.

"You really should talk to Chauvel. Since it appeared after you were in sustained combat, it may be shell shock or something of the sort. But I think we all have our own nervous tics, Gordon," Owens piped up helpfully. "Like when I see an object sitting on a table that's not perfectly straight, I just have to rearrange it until it's perfectly neat. It's a defensive reaction, not something to be ashamed of."

Sabol nodded gratefully. "Though I'll never know if I…did the right thing in staying behind at ALUCE instead of following Driss. I blamed him for abandoning us, but to be honest, I was glad to be out of the main battle. I know now what I should have told Halprin after he cracked. After all, I suppose we're all cowards in a way. I was glad to be out of it," he repeated wistfully.

Suddenly he was aware that Jen was sobbing, her face buried in her hands.

"Jen? What's wrong," Owens asked with concern.

"I'm sorry," she said, wiping her eyes and looking up at them in shame. "What you said, about being glad to-" her voice cracked.

Owens and Sabol watched her in silence.

"Oh, what the hell," she said wearily, the tears gone. "You deserve to know."

"We're right here, Jen," Owens said soothingly. "You don't have to tell us if you don't want to."

A way out. "I promise I'll tell you one day," she offered pitifully. But they all knew promises like that were fleeting, easily buried and wiped out in times like these. The pain of recollecting her brother's death, her failure, was beyond telling, as much as she had longed to forever exorcise the memory by sharing it. Where then, does true cowardice lie? she asked herself. So they sat in silence together, awaiting their turns at watch.