05_force_of_arms-第5章

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Max　hoped　this　was　another　feint。　Like　Gloval　and　many　others；　he　had　noticed　that　there　seemed　to　be　two　distinct　factions…almost　a　schizophrenia…among　the　enemy。　One　side　was　playing　a　waiting　game；　determined　to　capture　the　SDF…1　intact　for　reasons　that　the　humans　still　couldn't　guess　and　that　the　low…ranking　defectors；　not　privy　to　strategic　information；　couldn't　clarify。

The　other　element…rash；　unpredictable；　almost　irrational…mounted　sudden；　vicious　attacks　on　the　dimensional　fortress；　apparently　intent　on　destroying　it　with　no　thought　to　the　consequences。　It　was　being　clear　that　the　enemy　mander　responsible　for　this　had　a　name　known　to；　and　even　feared　by；　all　Zentraedi。

Khryon　the　Backstabber。


〃mander；　the　target　has　changed　course；〃　a　Zentraedi　pod　pilot　said；　the　facebowl　of　his　bat　armor　lit　by　his　instruments。　〃And　the　Micronian　fighters　are　redeploying　for　intercept。〃

The　alien　mecha；　two　dozen　and　more；　were　in　attack　formation…huge　ovoid　bodies　quilled　with　cannon　muzzles；　mounted　on　long　reverse…articulated　legs　so　that　they　resembled　headless　ostriches。　Most　would　have　been　considered　〃armless；〃　but　the　Officers'　Pods　mounted　heavy　guns　that　suggested　gargantuan　derringers。

In　the　lead　pod　was　Khyron　the　Backstabber。

He　didn't　fit　most　stereotypes　of　the　brutal　warlord。　Quite　contrary　to　the　Zentraedi　conventionalities…their　Spartan　simplicity；　their　distaste　for　mannerisms…Khyron　would　have　been　called　a　fop　if　such　a　word　or　concept　had　existed　among　his　race。

Youthful…looking　and　sinisterly　handsome；　he　gazed　into　the　screens　of　his　pod's　cockpit；　contemplating　the　kill。　He　had　been　forbidden　to　attack　the　SDF…1　again　on　pain　of　immediate　execution；　but　no　one　had　issued　any　orders　with　regard　to　a　juicy　little　convoy。

Four　times　now；　the　Micronian　vermin　had　humiliated　him。　With　each　defeat；　his　hatred　had　grown　geometrically。　It　went　incandescent　when　he　saw　the　sorts　of　perversions　the　humans　practiced：　males　mingling　with　females；　the　sexes　somehow　ing　into　contact　and　expressing　weak…willed　affection　for　each　other。　They　behaved　seductively；　something　unknown　to　the　Zentraedi。　The　Micronians　paired　off；　sometimes　forming　lifelong　bonds；　driven　by　impulses　and　stimuli　Khyron　was　only　beginning　to　perceive。

It　repelled　and　fascinated　him；　it　obsessed　and　possessed　him。　So　he　knew　he　had　no　other　choice　but　to　destroy　the　Micronians　utterly　or　go　pletely　insane。

〃Nothing　can　save　them；〃　he　gloated。　〃All　units：　Attack　immediately！〃

The　pods　closed　in；　riding　the　bright　flames　of　their　drives；　guns　angling；　answering　their　targetting　servos。　The　VTs　swept　out　to　meet　them。


〃Captain；　the　shuttle　has　reached　coordinates　Lambda　thirty…four；〃　Sammie　called　out。　〃Should　we　send　reinforcements？〃

The　bridge　crew　watched　Gloval；　hoping　he　would　say　yes　as　much　as　he　himself　wanted　to。　But　that　would　have　left　the　SDF…1　underprotected；　the　Zentraedi　had　already　tried　similar　diversionary　maneuvers　to　set　up　a　major　attack。

With　the　number　of　spaceworthy　VTs　critically　low　until　the　Robotech　fabrication　machinery　could　produce　replacements；　he　simply　couldn't　risk　sending　out　another　team　of　fighters　or　risk　the　pilots　who　were　so　crucial　to　the　ship's　survival。

〃Not　unless　we　absolutely　have　to；〃　he　said　stonily。　The　women　turned　back　to　their　jobs　in　silence。　Gloval　did　not　elaborate　on　the　question　of　reinforcements；　but　he　had　already　decided：　He　couldn't　risk　a　flight　of　VTs；　but　there　was　one　desperate　gamble　he　could　take　if　the　shuttle's　situation　got　worse。

In　the　volume　of　empty　space　designated　Lambda　thirty…four；　Max　Sterling's　Veritech　went　through　a　lightning　change。　It　was　what　Dr。　Lang；　the　eerie　Robotech　genius；　termed　〃mechamorphosis；〃　the　alteration　of　the　fighter's　very　structure。

Max　had　pulled　the　lever　that　sent　the　ship　into　Battloid　mode；　thinking　the　mecha　through　its　change。　The　VT　shifted　to　Battloid；　looking　like　a　futuristic　gladiator　in　bulky；　ultratech　armor；　bristling　with　weapons。　Two　pods　drove　in　at　him；　cannon　blazing。


CHAPTER　THREE

That　undisciplined　showoff？　That　wet…nosed　civilian　joystick　pilot？　What　a　waste　of　time　and　effort！
Remark　attributed　to　Lisa　Hayes　upon　being　informed　that　trainee　Rick　Hunter　had　qualified　as　a　VT　pilot　2009　A。D。

The　pods　fired　away　with　the　primary　and　secondary　guns　that　protruded　from　their　armored　plastrons；　but　the　blue　bolts　converged　on　utter　vacuum。　Max's　Battloid　wasn't　where　it　had　been　a　split　second　before。

The　Battloid　had　its　autocannon　in　its　metal　fists；　riding　its　backpack　thrusters　with　the　agility　of　a　gymnast；　darting　like　a　dragonfly。　It　whirled　on　one　pod；　opening　up。

The　chain…gun　was　loaded　with　depleted　transuranic　rounds；　big　as　candlepins　and　much　heavier…high…powered；　extremely　dense　projectiles　that　delivered　terrific　amounts　of　kinetic　energy。　The　pod's　armor　flew　like　shredded　paper；　it　exploded　in　an　outlashing　of　energy　and　debris。

Max　was　still　dodging　with　blinding　speed；　turning　his　sights　on　the　second　pod。　He　riddled　it　before　the　enemy　pilot　could　draw　a　bead　on　him；　putting　a　tight　shot　group　of　holes　in　the　center　of　the　egglike　alien　mecha。　The　pod　became　a　brief　fireball。

No　system　of　manual　or　puter　controls　could　have　e　up　with　such　astounding　maneuverability；　such　instantaneous　responses　and　deadly　shooting。　Only　the　〃thinking　cap；〃　the　interface　of　mind　and　mecha；　could　work　the　seeming　magic　of　the　RDF。

Other　VTs　had　already　paired　off　against　the　foe。　The　mecha　swirled　and　pounced；　their　missiles　corkscrewed　and　sizzled　while　energy　bolts　and　powered　gatling　rounds　lit　the　darkness。　But　the　pods　had　the　advantage　of　numbers　by　more　than　two　to　one；　enough　to　occupy　every　Veritech　and　leave　more　pods　to　go　after　the　shuttle。

The　shuttle　pilot　was　taking　evasive　action　and　running　for　safety　at　full　emergency　power。　But　there　was　no　safety；　the　shuttle　was　no　match　for　the　pods'　speed；　and　the　Zentraedi　closed　in；　firing。　The　shuttle's　light　armaments　and　lack　of　maneuvering　ability　made　it　easy　prey；　but　the　shuttle　skipper　did　his　best；　trying　to　evade。　He　was　hoping　he　could　eventually　make　a　dash　for　the　tantalizingly　nearby　Earth；　knowing　that　the　UEDC　would　never　allow　any　of　its　forces　to　intervene　or　otherwise　risk　turning　the　Zentraedi　wrath　on　Earth　itself。　He　could　hope　for　no　help　from　that　quarter。

A　Zentraedi　cannon　burst　stitched　holes　in　the　shuttle's　port　wing　in　a　line　of　three；　ringed　by　molten　metal。　Lisa　felt　the　ship　rock　in　her　armored　cocoon；　and　gripped　the　padded　armrests；　waiting　to　see　what　the　oute　of　the　battle　would　be。

The　attacking　pod　was　a　modified　standard　type；　carrying　augmentative　particle…beam　cannon　for　added　firepower。　It　turned　to　e　back　for　the　kill；　but　just　then　Max　arrived；　his　Battloid　diving　headlong　into　the　fight。　The　Battloid　knocked　the　pod　aside　like　a　football　player；　driving　a　huge；　armored　shoulder　into　it。

Then　the　Battloid　that　was　Max　Sterling　flipped　neatly　on　foot　thrusters　and　fired。　The　rain　of　armor…piercing　slugs　punched　a　dozen　holes　in　the　enemy；　and　it　was　driven　back　like　some　wounded　living　thing。　There　was　no　secondary　explosion…very　unusual；　since　the　enemy　mecha's　power　systems　usually　turned　them　into　firecrackers　once　their　armor　had　been　pierced。

Two　more　pods　came　in　at　him；　one　with　extra　missile　racks　and　another　with　the　strange　rabbit　ears　of　a　Zentraedi　signal…warfare　ship。　Max　went　at　them；　juking　and　evading　to　stay　out　of　their　cross　hairs；　his　Battloid　firing　short　bursts　from　the　autocannon。

One　of　the　escort　VTs　had　been　lost；　another　damaged　by　the　first　onslaught。　Several　more　were　still　engaged　in　bat；　but　the　rest；　like　Max；　had　e　through　their　first　duel　and　were　taking　on　new　opponents。　Some　help　arrived；　and　Max　began　to　feel　confident　that　he　could　keep　the　pods　away　from　the　damaged　shuttle。

But　just　then；　Elkins　yelled　over　the　tac　net；　〃More　pods！　We've　got　more　pods　ing　at　us…half　a　dozen！〃

Max's　mouth　became　a　thin　line　as　he　drove　in　to　deal　with　his　current　opponents　as　quickly　as　he　could。　He　thought　back　with　a　certain　pilot's　superstition　on　what　he　had　said　to　the　men　in　the　alley。　Perhaps　the　taboo