fanfic_name = Gotterdammerung

chapter = Chapter XIII

author = Cicero Phelps

dedicate = To Jo, may she have a safe trip; Carla, for running this site, and you, faithful readers, wherever you may be. Please enjoy.

Rating = AP15

Type = Adventure

fanfic = Henry Gloval sat back in his plush leather chair, one that was one of the few hand-me-downs in his family that had survived the revolutions and counter-revolutions that Russia was world-famous for. He looked into the bowl of his favorite pipe, an elegant affair carved from the horn of a deer and adorned with intricate scrollwork, then stained with walnut to give the appearance of antiquing, cautiously lit the match, took a long, deep pull on the pipe, and went into deep thought, letting the smoke fill his nose, throat, and mouth with acrid smoke.

This was no global confrontation they were fighting, he realized; it was a renegade faction of RDF personnel led by a man who had a personal disagreement with Henry over tactics and treatment of the Zentraedi. Henry had heard of no other uprisings across the world; in fact, Calcutta, Moscow, Beijing, and Tokyo were all silent, attending to business as usual. Henry sighed. He could call on them for reinforcements, but what need? This was, above all else, personal between Henry Gloval and Vaclav Maistroff; when two brothers fight, that was one thing, and if an outsider got involved, then the two brothers would gang up on the interloper. And, in many ways, before the rift happened, they were almost brothers, in spirit if not by blood.

Henry chewed lightly on the stem of his pipe. It was one thing for a man to revenge himself upon another man for a perceived slight, but it was quite another for him to stage the drama on such a grand scale where so many lives were lost. His thoughts traveled back to the day when The Visitor, as the SDF-1 was called, and landed on Macross Island.

Sylvia Maistroff and her children, Pyotr and Susan, were his pride and joy; Henry had fought against and alongside Vaclav often enough to establish a good respect for the family man who was fighting to make the world safer for his wife and kids. Henry had never met the Maistroff clan, but he knew they had to have been wonderful, from the way Vaclav’s stories were told on the long nights in camp while they waited for the snow to stop falling, and for the food to cook. Russian winters were very cold, indeed, and a small eternity in the frigid temperatures would usually pass before your morning coffee could boil.

Although Donald Hayes was the commander of the international examination committee that inspected “the Visitor,” Henry was appointed his second in command, and was chiefly responsible for selecting key personnel. Roy Fokker and Emile Lang were a given, as both were highly respected in their fields; Fokker for his piloting prowess, was there as an expert in piloting and navigational matters, and Lang was known for his expertise in energy fields, propulsion, and electrical engineering.

But Henry needed a secret group of advisors whom he could plan tactics with, men who he’d fought against and alongside often, and whose advice and wisdom he could trust. So he asked Admiral Hayes for his permission to form the Tactical Doctrine Council, comprised of Admiral Hayes, himself, Maistroff, Carruthers, Reinhart, and two others whose names escaped him formed the original TDC. Fokker joined later, upon the creation of the Valkyrie Air/Space Forces, to add depth to the tactical plannings.

Henry grimaced as he recalled the day he contacted Maistroff about joining the TDC…

*****

Flashback

The sun was shining, but the young-ish colonel wasn’t smiling or enjoying the sunlight; he had a bottle of Scotch in his right fist, his service pistol loaded in his left, and a dark, brooding look in his eyes. Henry stood a few paces to Vaclav’s left, unsure how to proceed. “Vaclav, are you alright?”

“Henry,” he said, choking back a sob, “what am I going to do now that my family is gone?”

Henry gasped, taken aback in sympathy. “Vaclav, that’s horrible; what happened?”

“The Visitor impacted right into the side of our apartment building. By the time the fire crew got to the building, there was nothing left to save; everyone inside was dead.”

Henry glanced down at the gun in Vaclav’s hand. “Put the gun down, Vaclav, and I’ll help you get through it.”

“What is there to get to, Henry? If I get past all this, even if I survive these feelings, what do I live for? Sylvia, Pyotr, and Susan were more than just my wife and children, they were my very life itself. I just want to see my wife again,” he finished dejectedly, slowly gripping the pistol more tightly in his left hand.

Henry eyed the pistol in his friend’s hand with unease. “There are other methods of easing your pain, my friend. You can’t just end it all like this.”

Maistroff suddenly snarled and aimed the pistol, two-handed, at Henry. “Stay back, Henry. I wanna see my wife again, and you’re not going to stop me.”

Henry put his hands up in the universal sign of surrender. “I’m not your enemy, Vaclav, I’m your friend. I’m a friend who’s been through a lot with you, who knows you and bleeds for you when you bleed, because we’ve been through it all together. I know how it feels to lose your wife that way; I’ve told you about Irina before. Just put down the gun and I’ll help you find a way to move past your grief.”

Vaclav made no effort to lower the gun, so Henry lunged at him, grabbing the barrel and shoving it at the ground. Vaclav collapsed in his friend’s arms, sobbing from fatigue, both physical and mental.

*******

End Flashback

Henry got Maistroff to a field hospital, where he spent a few weeks under the care of a bevy of head shrinkers. As soon as the medics certified Maistroff as fit to return to duty, Henry and Donald both approved his application to the TDC. All the collective insight from the experienced commanders, and the reports and insight provided from their outside experts, couldn’t prepare them for the reality they would face when the Zentraedi fleet arrived overhead. And then, he started working with his current crew, who all formed a loving, tight-knit, if slightly dysfunctional family.

Henry sighed softly, then swore as the intercom buzzed. “Yes?”

“Sorry to interrupt, Admiral Gloval, but we’ve got an incoming message from Commander Grant, sir.”

“Put it up, Vanessa,” he ordered.

The intercom screen went up. “Admiral, we have news to report.”

“What is that, Commander?”

“Max and the helicopters were able to rescue the cargo, but we’ve got bad news, as well; we’ve landed outside their base camp,” she replied, and lurched suddenly as if she was struck by something.

“How do you know it’s their base camp?”

“Because, well, we’ve been surrounded and taken prisoner by Col. Howe, himself, Sir, and moved inside the mountain. Unless you surrender by midnight, they’re going to execute Kim, Sammie, and I.” The screen then went blank, leaving Henry speechless and uncertain what to do.

State = Continuará/To Be Continue

feedback = Sí/Yes

email = Lightsaber01ATHotmail.com