"Jack McKinney - Robotech 04 - Battlehymn" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKinney Jack)

a great deal about their miserable world, so if we bring the fight there, the
fortress and the planet will be ours for the taking." Khyron noticed Grel's
eyes shift back and forth. "Questions, Grel?"
"No, sir...But we are going against Azonia's orders again, aren't we?"
Khyron laughed maliciously. "Just carry out your orders. I'll take care
of her after we return."
Khyron lowered the canopy of the Battlepod. He ingested two dried leaves
from the Flower of Life and brought his mecha to the edge of the cruiser port.

The first controlled firing of the main gun, the Daedalus Maneuver, the
return to Earth: three "whoopees" in two long years of warfare...
But now there was cause for genuine celebration on the bridge of the
dimensional fortress: Gloval's ploy had worked. The North American Ontario
Quadrant, one of a growing number of separatist states seeking autonomy from
the Council's stranglehold, had agreed to accept the civilians. Ontario had
its own reasons for doing so, but the captain wasn't about to ask questions.
It felt as though an enormous weight was about to be lifted from his
shoulders-he could practically feel the worry lines on his face beginning to
fade. Now, if Dr. Lang could only figure some way to transfer Macross City as
well, lock, stock, and barrel.
News of the recently received crypto-communication spread like wildfire
through the ship. Spontaneous parties were already under way in the streets of
the city, and Gloval would have been given a ticker-tape parade if there had
been any ticker tape available. Residents were hastily packing and making
preparations to leave, embracing one another, sobbing good-byes, taking last
looks around. As expected, there were more than a few who wished to remain
onboard, but there were to be no exceptions to the captain's orders: All
civilians had to go. Perhaps when the war was over, like some "city in flight"
the SDF-1 would be taking Earth's children to their destiny...
But most of that was for starry-eyed dreamers and science-fantasy buffs;
most of Macross wanted out. The tour was finished; it was time to get back
into the real world, reconnect with family left behind, tear up the premature
obituaries, and start living again. No more alert sirens waking you up in the
middle of a false night, no more military scrip or play money, no asteroid
showers, no more-thank heavens!-modular transformations. Many of the residents
forgot that these same hopes had been dashed only short weeks before.
The Defense Force was never polled as to its feelings, though the
results undoubtedly would have proved interesting. To some Macross was the
ship's heart, and they had fought hard on Earth and in deep space to protect
that transplanted center. To be appointed guardian of their homeworld would
have been a fair enough tradeoff, but, that was not to be the case. The
Council had already made this clear: Their orders were to lead the aliens away
from Earth, to bring the war back into deep space where it belonged, to act as
a decoy until such time as the Earth was suitably prepared to deal with
invasion. In other words, they had been singled out for sacrifice. If there
was supposed to be some sort of grandiose nobility attached to this, it was
not readily apparent. But fortunately for the Council, the Earth, and the
dimensional fortress commanders themselves, there were few members of the
Defense Force in possession of all the facts.
Rick was belowdecks in the Prometheus when Max and Ben brought him the