Robotech Sweet Vengeance Ch 1

Story One of my Robotech Series! First up: Max Sterling and Miriya Parino's Story

Written by Kenya—Quadrono Leader

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Thank You and Dedications

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I'd like to dedicate this story to That Evil Bastard (Padraic), who listened to my constant ramblings on the subject even when I was sure he wanted me to shut up! And Jericho Fan (Rachel Ehrlich.) who located the last two books I needed! Without them, I'd never been able to complete my collection of Robotech Novels and finish this or future stories.

I'd also like to dedicate this story to all those

Robotech/Macross Fan Fiction Writers

that get little or no praise for their hard work at Fanfiction.Net. Stay encouraged, keep writing, and never think for one second that no one reads your work, even if most can't be bothered to "Review."

Thanks 10 Million guys!!!

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For those without a clue…

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M

aximillian A. Sterling

is the Robotech Defense Force ace pilot. Slight, blue-haired and bespectacled, Max was over-looked and dismissed as a threat from the very beginning. But after his first battle with the Zentraedi forces and a fistfight in the White Dragon, had everyone reevaluating his or her opinion of the handsome Veritech pilot. Lightening fast reflexes, superb hand-eye coordination coupled with a natural talent that bordered on miraculous made Max the undisputed master of the sky. Even having less then perfect vision, (Max wore blue tinted aviator glasses with corrective lenses.) wasn't enough to detract from his abilities. There was simply no one better, not even the honored Roy Fokker or Rick Hunter, when it came to flying the Veritech's.

Max's relaxed, unassuming, and humble; almost Zen like manner was as much a façade, as it was a part of his natural personality. Max's quite grace hid a more dangerous man, a man that was closer to Max's true personality then the persona he allowed others around him to see.

But despite it all, Max met his match in the beautiful Zentraedi Ace Pilot, Quadrono Leader Miriya Parino. She saw him for the man he was and embraced him; he found the one person he couldn't live without, his soulmate and wingmate. His love eternal.

M

iriya Parino-Sterling

is the beautiful green eyed, green haired Battle Queen of the Zentraedi Forces and Commander of the elite Female Quadrono's Battalion. Miriya is a prideful, driven woman who constantly strives for self-perfection, to rank number one in the game of war.

Created in a Protoculture chamber, Miriya was one of the millions of breed for war Zentraedi warrior clones for whom emotions, love, sex, happiness and music was alien, and the segregation of the sexes was strictly enforced. Miriya's dedication to the Zentraedi Imperative, along with her curious nature was well suited to the extraordinary level of her talents, a trait that sets her apart from other pilots and lead to her becoming one of the greatest warriors of her race. Miriya was known to push herself to the absolute limit. She demanded as much from those under her command, as she does from herself, and that is why only Miriya can judge Miriya

Miriya is an excellent Commander and has earned her own battle cruiser command a dozen times over, but rejected each one. She felt that promotion would have placed her too far from flying, and flying was what she did best. Loyal to a fault, Miriya has never failed to carry out her orders to the fullest and commands total loyalty to those under her command because of this.

Always on the lookout for new challenges, she almost bit off more then she could chew when she met the Micronian pilot, Max Sterling. Taunted by Khyron, the Backstabber, of one Micronian pilot she could not beat, Miriya leads a squad of Quadrono's into battle to search out, and destroy him, but it is Miriya that is defeated in the dogfight that insured. Vowing vengeance, Miriya leaves the SDF-1 only to return as a Micronized Zentraedi warrior to search for the pilot that defeated her and destroy him as a way to end her humiliation.

Instead, she found more humiliation as he defeated her, not once, but twice more. The first defeat came in a Video arcade where Max defeated Miriya at her own game, so to speak, and then bragged about how easy it was. Humiliated once again, Miriya got up from the game to leave, but before she could, Max grabbed her hand and asked for a date. She agreed and Max let her go, never suspecting that Miriya intended that their first date would be the last. This leads to her final defeat. Max arrived at the rendezvous spot on time, but Miriya was early, hiding in the park with her knife ready, intent on killing the pilot that was responsible for her shame. The fight that followed was intense, brief, and ended with the knife in Max's hand, pointed at Miriya's throat. Max Sterling was the victor once again. Shamed and defeated, Miriya pleaded for Max to end her life. He couldn't do it. Instead of killing her, he ended up falling in love and marrying her.

Miriya learned a new lesion; that there is honor in defeat when a worthy and honorable opponent beats you.

That was the beginning of a legacy that was felt throughout history and beyond.

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T

he myths of selfless humility and humble allegiance to ideals aside, there is no warrior culture, not that of the Japanese samurai, medieval knight, or any other, that does not, upon close scrutiny, have a ruthless, entirely practical side to it. Also universal are egotism and a hypocritical willingness to dispense with all the high-flown language and poetic vows when the grim business of life and death is at hand.

H

ow much more so, then, among the cloned, breed for battle Zentraedi? In the case of Miriya Parino, female warlord of the Quadrono's and arguably the greatest fighter of her race, the matter is certain: Her soaring pride and utter self-confidence had been her hallmark until she was bested in both the air and on the ground by Max Sterling. Her emotional ferment was such that the law of her kind, the vendetta, was the only road open to her— Sweet Vengeance, by any means possible.

I

s it any wonder, then, that what happened next has provided fuel for songs, arguments, dissertations, and grand opera for generations since?

A

ltaira Heimel,

Butterflies in Winter: Human Relations and the Robotech War

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Chapter One — First Impressions

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A

board a Queadol-Magdomilla Battlecruiser—Command Ship of the

Seventh Mechanized Division of the Botoru Battalion

"How

dare

you question my leadership abilities?"

The man sitting in the commanders chair was practically vibrating with rage, incensed that here was yet another questioning him…challenging him…doubting him and his ability to command his fleet and control his men.

Him!

It just wasn't to be born.

He had been leading men into battle after glorious battle for countless thousands of years, accumulating numerous victories for the Robotech Masters and insuring the Zentraedi's place in the history of the universe as warriors and still, there are those that doubted.

And why? Because he believed in doing thing his own way, in his own time? Or was he under constant scrutiny because he refused to bow to Breetai and Azonia's twisted logic? As long as he was loyal to his Imperative, then what did it matter how it was carried out. He was never one for following orders, as his long past will proclaim. He will continue to do what

he

deemed necessary and to Hell with Dolza, Breetai, Azonia, Exedore and anyone else that has a problem with the way he commands his ship and men. Especially

her

.

Silently, he leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, contemplating. Lately, he's been faced with more then his usual share of insubordination and stubbornness. Not surprising, considering his forces have been constantly out maneuvered and humiliated by the inhabitants of Zor's battlefortress…these Micronians…have had the advantage in every situation.

That could not continue. His men needed a clear victory over the Micronians or he must prepare to deal ruthlessly with his men in order to keep control. Regardless of the cost, his will must

never

be questioned. And normally, it would not. His men and those of other fleets, thought more then twice before confronting him or questioning him—on anything. His quick trigger temper and superb physical conditioning made the other Zentraedi wary of testing him—in any way. Standing well over 55 feet tall and weighing in at a little over 20,000 lbs, he was a blue eyed, blue hair demigod of war, the

ultimate

warrior. But despite his reputation, that still did not stop some people from treading where others dared not. Most, but not all.

Zentraedi like

her

.

Miriya Parino—the green eyed, green haired leader of the female Quadrono's—pride of the Zentraedi air forces and a long time antagonist of his. He wasn't back aboard his battlecruiser 10 minutes before his project-beam screen blinked to life and she started taunting him with his recent defeat at the Micronians hands. As if his defeat wasn't chastisement enough without this Zentraedi

woman

taunting him with it. He wished she'd go and leave him in peace, but he knew such fanciful wishes were just that…wishes. Miriya only did what

Miriya

wanted to. In that, they were much alike.

Right now what Miriya wanted to do was revel in his humiliation. So be it. He had a trick or two in store for the arrogant female.

Commander Khyron Kravshera, better known as Khyron The Backstabber among the Zentraedi fleet, spoke through clenched teeth as he addressed the image on his projecbeam screen. "Just

who

do you think you are?" he asked her, scornfully.

Unaware of Khyron's plotting, Miriya smirked at him through the projecbeam screen and informed him of

exactly

who she was. "Who am I?" she questioned, spine straight and head held high with her trademark arrogance gleaming from her bright green eyes. "

I

am Miriya Parino, second in command under Azonia Lamiz!

I

am the female Warlord and Mistress of the elite Quadrono Battalion! And in case this also has slipped you memory Khyron,

I

am the finest mecha pilot of all the Zentraedi forces."

All these things were true of course. Miriya was an excellent pilot; the

best

of the fleet and she knew it. Her self-confidence, along with her arrogance, was an unending trial to the Backstabber and the men of the Zentraedi forces. More often then not, it was the Quadrono's flying circles around the enemy, making it glaringly obvious where the

real

talent lay.

Khyron snarled, "You are as prideful and egotistical a warrior as they come Quadrono Leader, but take care…one day your ego will cause your ultimate destruction Miriya." Not that this was a bad thought to the Backstabber…he couldn't wait to see her get her comeuppance and humbled before the male fleet and her beloved Quadrono's. Oh how he would dearly love to see her humbled.

Bitch.

Is that right Khyron?

Miriya thought. Throwing back her head, causing the mane of green hair to fly, she pinned him with a smile from her full lips, a smile that has been known to fill the most hardened solider with unease. Khyron was no different. "Oh? Just as

your

ego caused you to be shot out the sky and downed in the Micronian Sea, making you the object of ridicule to all those you command, Backstabber?"

Burning with the rage and embarrassment his failure brought about, he jumped out of his chair and raised his hand, pointed a finger at her and taunted, "Just because you have never faced a capable opponent, you believe you're something special, but take care little Miriya! There is one aboard the SDF-1 whom you cannot best!"

There

, Khyron thought with much satisfaction. Take the bait and perish.

Miriya's interest peaked. "Are you telling me that there is a warrior…a superior pilot worthy of my regard aboard the SDF-1?" Crossing her arms across her chest, she regarded the commander of the Botoru Battalion with calm interest. "Interesting!'

"I thought the idea would appeal to you."

Inclining her head, Miriya smiled brightly, causing the dimples to appear at the sides of her sensual lips, giving her a beautifully hungry, dangerously feline look. Khyron instinctively stepped back from the monitor. Noticing the betraying movement, but choosing to ignore it, Miriya continued smiling. "I'd like to meet him."

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At that very moment, Lieutenant Maximillian Sterling was wondering how much more they all could take.

Something

had to give and give

soon

.

It's not like he's the only one with a screwed up love life!

Max thought to himself as he walked through the sliding doors of the hospital and out onto the sidewalk parallel of Macross main thoroughfare.

Some of us don't have one at all!

Outside, the artificial sun of the EVE system was high in Macross, casting a cheerful brilliance to the ships inner surface, but Max was in no mood to enjoy it. He figured he was grouchy because he was hungry, but suspected his edginess had more to do with his commanding officer's continued stupidity and his own lukewarm love life, rather then the grumbling of his stomach.

Looking about, Max realized that Roy Fokker and Ben Dixon was nowhere in sight. Not surprising, considering the way Rick had reacted to their visit, but he at least thought they would wait for him. Scanning the area around the hospital one last time, Max pushed his blue tinted aviator glasses higher on his nose and started walking toward the barracks, confident that the two pilots were nowhere around. He had duty in two hours, but wanted to check on Rick first. He sees now that he could have saved the trip.

Had Max been a little less concerned for his friend, he would have hauled ass right along with Roy and Ben. Rick was in a vicious mood, literally snapping Ben's head off for his enthusiasm of a Minmei song playing on the radio. He had to admit that his blunder about what Rick needed hadn't helped his commanding officer's mood any. Instead of cutting his losses and leaving when the leaving was good, he chose to stay and got a dose of cold shoulder for his effort. Seeing that Rick didn't feel like talking, preferring to sulk instead, Max had bid him farewell and left him with his thoughts.

Max figured Rick needed a solid slap in the face, or kick in the rear, and Lisa should be the one to deliver it. At this rate, it'll be years before he comes to his senses and that would be an injustice to both Lisa and Rick.

It always amazed him how Rick could be so blind about Commander Hayes feelings for him. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Lisa was in love with Rick. Well, to everyone but Rick that is. Instead of capitalizing on the chance to have a beautiful, loving, courageous woman love him, Rick naturally wants the selfish, flighty child that's sure to break his heart and leave him an emotional basket case. Sure, Minmei was beautiful, Max admitted to himself, but she was a beautiful

child

.

And what about himself? Max Sterling, the Robotech Defense Force Ace pilot and wonder boy of the skies, undefeated and envied by all, a real trailblazer, Max thought sarcastically. He knew he was good, the best actually, but despite his talent and skill, he was still alone.

Sure, there were women. After his first battle and the fast, highly publicized promotion to First Lieutenant, groupie types started poring out the woodworks, hoping to entangle what they thought was an innocent, gullible young man in their schemes.

Much to those women disappointment, Max remained un-entangled. Never the playboy, Max spent a lot of his ducking those groupie types and shying away from all the extra attention. Most women made him uncomfortable, but

they

only wanted to be seen with Max Sterling, Ace pilot, not Max Sterling, the rather intense and introverted man he really was. No one was interested in

really

getting to know who Maximillian Sterling was, and so he stayed to himself.

But it was a lonely existence. Max couldn't remember the last time he had a date. Where would he find the time? Seemed like all his free time lately was spent inside the cockpit of his Veritech, risking his life in order to defend the SDF-1 and Earth from would be invaders. In-between, he slept and ate. Not the most exciting lifestyle for a young hotshot.

But that didn't mean he was totally without experience. Before joining the RDF, Max was in a couple serious relationships, but unfortunately neither survived his desire to join the military.

It was just as well; Max thought as he entered the confines of the

Prometheus

upper hanger deck and started in the direction of the Men's locker rooms to change. Being a Fighter Pilot would make any relationship difficult to maintain, if not killing it altogether. The fear, the uncertainty, the knowledge that the one you love may not come back to you, was something Max wouldn't wish on anyone who loved him. The strain would be unbearable.

As he walked, people waved and greeted him, but Max half-heartedly waved back, his thoughts of happily ever after depressing him. He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't hear the heavy footsteps heading his way, nor did he hear them when they came to an abrupt stop nearby. He concentration was broken when he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

"Deep thoughts Buddy?"

Turning around, Max was startled to see Ben Dixon standing behind him, already in his white, with yellow and blue trim flight suit, holding his matching helmet "Think Cap" under his right arm. Max had to look up to fully see the Lieutenant. Standing at 6'6, Max's modest 6'1 was totally dwarfed Ben's height, not to mention his size, the brown haired, browned eyed fighter jock was easily 250 pounds of solid muscle. It always amazed Rick and Max that Ben was able to fit inside the Veritech without getting stuck.

Crossing his arms, Max gave Ben a slight smile. "You could say that. I've been doing nothing but

thinking

ever since I left Rick's room."

Ben grimaced. "Yeah, he wasn't in the best of moods."

Max snorted. "That's the understatement of the year. The man was as touchy as a teased rattlesnake. If I'd had any kind of sense, I would have been right behind you and the Commander."

Ben looked uncomfortable for a brief second, and then said sheepishly. "Yeah, well, Commander Fokker was

dragging

me out the room. Which was probably a good thing, seeing as how Rick threatened me with a knuckle sandwich." Ben paused, then queried, "I wonder what's his problem."

Max turned and looked at Ben in amazement. "What's his problem?

What

problem? The man has two beautiful women running after him. All he has to do is choose one or the other. We should all have such problems."

"Sounds simple."

Max started walking toward the Men's changing area. Ben followed. "Of course it's simple. If it wasn't, then it wouldn't be a Rick Hunter problem."

Nothing else was said until both men entered the changing area. Max walked to his locker and pulled out one of the many white with blue on light blue trimmed flight suits and threw it across an empty bench, then reached up to retrieve his "Think Cap" helmet and a pair of gloves to go along with the outfit. Max then turned to Ben. "I'm just gonna go change real quick. Want to go get something quick to eat?" he asked, looking down at the watch on his arm. "We got about 45 minutes before we have to report for duty."