Tansy Rayner Roberts's Blog, page 56

ROBOTECH REWATCH 16 – Don’t Make Dinner Plans

Robotech will be rewatched after these messages.

The death toll of major, minor and background characters is about to start going up… and there’s no going back! What, you thought this was going to be a fun time?

18. Farewell Big Brother

This has to be one of the spoileriest titles ever. Talk about doing what it says on the tin. But I have to say, the amount of glee with which Ms9 approached this episode was… disturbing. She’s been predicting the death of Roy Fokker since day one and she loves being right.

Rick is still in hospital and has managed to acquire a super snarky nurse who pranks him with the idea they’re going to do medical experiments on him to see if pilot’s heads really are made out of granite. I love her. She needs her own show. I hope she is actually Sami’s roommate and they hang out practicing appalling things to say in innocent voices while batting their eyelashes.

Lisa turns up to visit with Rick and apologises for her error in judgement. Rick is zen about the whole thing and surprisingly gracious to her about it, taking full responsibility. Maybe he should get shot out of the sky more often. This is the first time they have had a conversation without one or the other of them flying into a rage, or scoring bitchy points. It’s almost like they are friends now! (Or something more…?)

“What’s happened to that old command confidence? This isn’t like you at all.”

Rick Hunter actually notices something. About Lisa. Everyone try not to swoon, we might need the fainting couch for other things later.

Later on the bridge, Claudia teases Lisa about her romantic interest in Rick, comparing them to herself and Roy who are apparently the perfect couple.

Rick has his own visitors – Roy, Ben and Max. Now, I’m prepared to accept that maybe I look away from the screen too often to make notes, thus missing the moment when Max enters the scene, but it totally felt like he did that thing AGAIN where he wasn’t in the scene at all, but turned up halfway through pretending he had always been there. Those pilot reflexes of his are excellent, no wonder he’s such a match for Miriya. Oops, getting ahead of myself there.

“Big Brother” Roy is concerned about Rick’s depression, and meets with Claudia to get her advice about how to hook a friend of his up with Minmei. (Because a date with a pop star is cheaper than counselling or medication?) Claudia doesn’t twig that he’s talking about Rick (I like to think she’d have thrown Lisa at him if she had), so she tells Roy about how to find Minmei on her film set.

We’ve heard a few times about this film Minmei is making, but usually in casual asides. Are we about to learn more?

Roy makes Claudia promise to make him her famous pineapple salad later for dinner. I always thought that was a weird food request, but maybe it’s a cultural thing that I’m missing. Anyway, it’s worth it for Claudia’s sultry aside after Roy runs off to work again.

“Pineapple salad… and if we’re lucky, breakfast.”

Oh Claudia, you saucebox!

This has to be the first reference to sex in Robotech, unless we count the awkward and quite misleading birds and the bees talk that Ben attempts during the alien abduction.

As part of the ongoing theme of Minmei’s growing celebrity onboard the SDF1, we meet a shop full of Minmei dolls! They are cute, kind of creepy, and programmed with her songs. All two and a half of them. Konda, Rico and Bron the Zentraedi spies are fascinated with the little devices, and inadvertently cause half a riot when they steal one and run for it – they then run into Sami, Kim and Vanessa who promptly tease them about playing with dolls.

“What planet do you come from anyway, where men play with children’s toys?”

Vanessa has never heard of action figures.

It feels a bit like the Zentraedi spies have been sent among the Micronians purely to be confronted by weird, narrow conventions of gender essentialism, which can’t be overly helpful! If only they met some more open-minded representatives of the human species… and I was going to make a snarky comment about us not expecting much of the 1980’s, but let’s face it, if those dolls were made today they’d be a lot more pink because this stuff has got worse, not better, over the decades.

In the midst of their bumbling and panic, the three spies somehow end up with disco dates. They go along with it for the sake of the mission. The girls, however, are definitely in it for the snogging and grinding.

“I want the big handsome one!”

Vanessa walks on the wild side, and Bron gets lucky.

Khyron and Miriya engage in some platonic screen-to-screen sledging, and he comes up with the ultimate taunt, telling her that there is one pilot on the SDF1 who outstrips her own abilities. Miriya is intrigued at the idea of a Micronian ace. Khyron the matchmaker! He’ll be sending out anonymous valentines next.

Now I want to read Khyron’s romantic advice column. “My advice to you when meeting your girlfriend’s parents is to BLOW UP THEIR SPACESHIP.”

Roy runs into Minmei and chats her up, convincing her to take some time out of her busy schedule to cheer Rick up.

Weirdly, Kyle is on the set as well, and willing to glare down any boy who talks to his cousin – so he is also an actor? No hint of this before now! But he suits the black kimono. Makes him look good and villainous.

The SDF1 comes under attack, mostly so that Miriya can get her teeth into this supposed hot shot pilot she’s heard so much about. Because Khyron is always a trustworthy source of information? The Veritech attack squadron is led by Roy Fokker of Skull Squadron. He manages to get a cocky comment about pineapple salad over the radio before taking off to the battle, which makes Claudia giggle.

Miriya finds a blue Veritech who is totally the pilot she is after, and attacks him. Raeli was excited by this “yes, beaten by a girl!” but was then surprised to realise Miriya’s target wasn’t Roy at all, but Max Sterling.

Oh Max, always pulling the ladies.

It’s actually quite a cute bit of misdirection – having set up that this is totally the episode where Roy dies, you could certainly read all the ‘hotshot’ build up as being about Miriya killing Roy. But it’s another plot thread that is sneakily taking over the story with its awesomeness. This will characterise all future Max and Miriya storylines.

Minmei makes her visit to the hospital, exhausted with overwork, and Rick is pleased but surprised to see her. She ends up falling asleep on the end of his hospital bed and Rick feels content, knowing that she is safe and well. It’s almost like he’s learned something about talking to women and considering their needs as well as his own! Between this and his earlier chat with Lisa, I’m very impressed with Rick right now, and starting to realise why I liked the character so much – when I first watched this show, I came in halfway through. I missed a lot of the adolescent claptrap.

Max is ordered to retreat to get the ‘bandit’ off his tail, but Miriya is relentless in her pursuit of him, and the two of them end up taking their flirtatious dogfight all the way into the SDF1 itself. Sirens ring out, and Rick runs to his hospital window to witness the destruction wrought by the two Robotech fighters combating each other.

With hotness.

“You wish to do combat? You impudent fool!”

This is Miriya’s best chat up line.

The two fighters finally burst free of the SDF1 again and separate which might or might not be a metaphor for something. Their duel has been inconclusive… this time. Max is intrigued, but not overly bothered by the whole thing. The same can not be said for Miriya.

Minmei’s agent tracks her down in Rick’s room and grabs her away before Rick returns. He harangues her about her duty to the film and to the ship. There’s a lot of pressure on her slender shoulders.

Meanwhile, Roy’s Skull One is in a bad way after he makes it back after the battle – the mechanics are alarmed to see something in the cockpit (which later circumstances imply is a whopping great pool of blood).

Roy meanwhile is having that dinner with Claudia, strumming his guitar while she nags him about how worried and upset she feels when he is in combat. He may or may not be aware that he has been badly wounded.

“It has never been a game, Claudia. Maybe one day you’ll understand that.”

Roy Fokker’s last words. Bit passive aggressive there, buddy.

Still holding his guitar, Roy collapses from bloodloss, thanks to at least three holes in his back. He is taken to hospital where he passes quietly away. Claudia is devastated and later, a weeping Lisa goes to tell Rick the bad news.

Rick’s little toy airplane falls broken to the ground in a slow filmic moment as he – you guessed it – has to bid farewell to his Big Brother.

Sadness. Except from Ms9 who chuckled all through it and worked her way up to a cackle at the end there. Because she’s a bit evil like that.

Kudos to the episode for telling us up front that Roy is going to buy it, spending the whole episode teasing for that moment, and then making it look like everything’s basically fine right up to the end. And also for the elegant plane dropping scene at the end.

Robotech: often artier than you expect it to be.

This weekly rewatch of classic animated space opera Robotech is brought to you as bonus content for the Musketeer Space project. Thanks to everyone who has linked, commented, and especially to my paid patrons. You can support Musketeer Space at Patreon.

Friday Links’ Eyes Are Up Here

From the Mary Sue: Does the Marvel Cinematic Universe Play to the Female Gaze? Well sure, sometimes. Most TV action shows are learning this lesson too – why else do Arrow & Dig whip their shirts off so often? (though sadly never at the same time)

The amazing Nancy Kress argues against the weird idea that living in a science fictional future makes it less interesting to write science fiction – right now, she’s taking inspiration from genetic engineering.

“Science fiction made personal, because the future always is.” Nancy Kress.

Jaym Gates talks about taking inspiration from RPG gaming to take control of her life – On Her Own Damn Game.

Salon on Why The Most Exciting Crime Novelists These Days Are Women.

Katie Schenkel on “I Guess Comics aren’t for me”, how gatekeeping and sexism actively dissuades so many women from an entire creative medium.

Charles Tan on How To Live Safely In an Online Universe.

Musketeer Space Part 17 – Portrait of a Marriage

Musketeer Day is my favourite day of the week!

It’s been a busy week on my blog, largely because Metafilter discovered my Pratchett’s Women essays and this has caused a massive spike of readers. (thanks, person who wrote the great, comprehensive piece with all the links including to the ebook, I totally owe you one) Then Boing Boing picked up the topic (with a very flattering piece written by Cory Doctorow) and created a spike that left the other spike completely in the shade. My blog is dizzy from all the attention.

Hi, new readers! I also write things about Musketeers sometimes. You can purchase the complete collection of my Pratchett’s Women essays as an ebook from Fablecroft, via any good online retailer. The ebook includes not only all the pieces from my blog but an extra essay exclusive to the book which looks at the extraordinary gender-and-feminist achievement that is Monstrous Regiment, and unpacks a lot of my inner turmoil about how much I disliked the book the first time I read it (spoilers: I was wrong).

We’re now at a point where around 16,000 people have read my essay “The Boobs, The Bad and the Broomsticks.” I actually don’t know what to do with that.

But we’re not here to talk about witches and gendered narratives, we’re here for female Musketeers in Space. This chapter involves pastries, eavesdropping, and a mission that will change Dana’s life forever! There may be a bit of kissing.

Start reading from Part 1

Missed the last installment? Track back to Part 16.

Main Page & Table of Contents

PREVIOUSLY IN MUSKETEER SPACE: Dana D’Artagnan just wants to be a pilot with the Musketeers. Instead she has three Musketeers as her new best friends, a love-hate relationship with a mecha suit, and a palace conspiracy that just won’t quit.

NOW READ ON!

This chapter is dedicated to Mikayla. Thanks so much for your support of Musketeer Space.

PART 17 – Portrait of a Marriage

Dana had been thinking about Conrad Su and his master ever since yesterday’s cinquefoil game, and the Regent’s announcement.

It was none of Dana’s business, of course. She had no right to involve herself. And yet – the safety of the realm could well depend on how the Prince Consort chose to handle the matter of the coat and the diamonds and the ball.

If the Sun-kissed were returning, if it was really true that another intergalactic war might be on the horizon, then this was the worst possible time for the government to be shaken, let alone broken.

Dana flopped down on her narrow bed in the room above Madame Su’s workshop. Sleep. She needed sleep. But every time she closed her eyes, there was a loud clanking noise from below. The rooms were heavily soundproofed, which meant the noise must be extraordinary.

Finally, she let herself out of her room and leaned over the balcony to see what was going on down there.

The workshop had been half-cleared of its usual printers and other paraphernalia, to make room for three large mecha suits. They were basic orbital models, designed for space repairs and other basic tasks outside the station. They were also, for the most part, in bits.

Another pallet of limbs and casings arrived on a packing trolley steered by two Pigeons, and Madame Su directed the lot to be unpacked on the workshop floor.

Planchet sat among the mechanical debris, looking as if all her birthdays had come at once. When she saw Dana, she waved merrily up at her. “Look what we got!”

Madame Su darted a glance up at Dana and looked away again, quickly. She had been doing that since she had been released from her arrest by the red guards, as if she didn’t want to acknowledge that they even knew each other.

Still, if that meant Dana would not be included any more Palace plots, she was okay with that.

Madame Su spoke quietly to Planchet and then disappeared into her rooms.

“You have to see this!” Planchet squealed, diving into the new pile of mecha bits.

Dana came down the steps to her. “Where in space did you get it all?” Her thoughts flitted to the mecha graveyard on Luna Palais and that odd night she had spent out there with Conrad, Chevreuse and Dubois.

“Auction,” said Planchet, diving into one of the pallets and pulling out handfuls of circuits. “Madame Su has a contract to supply cheap mecha for the Calais,” she added, referring to the solarcrawler civilian transport that ran regularly between Honour and Valour. “I’m going to build and fix them from this lot, and she’s paying me a percentage!”

Dana frowned at that. “I hope it’s a majority percentage, if you’re doing all the work.”

Planchet’s expression fell slightly. “It’s… a percentage,” she said.

Dana sighed, and patted Planchet on the arm. “Do you really think you can get whole mecha suits up and running from scrap?”

“Oh yes,” said Planchet, brightening. “Look at that one, the chassis is mostly complete, it’s only the internals that need to be completely remodelled, and that one over there will be solid once I get the head reshaped and buffed down to size, and find it some new internal circuits. And arms.”

Dana should go back to her room and sleep. She really should. Rest was important. But this looked like fun. Taking things apart, putting them back together and recycling scrap into working tech had been a massive part of her life back on Gascon station, and while she appreciated the ease with which you could access anything you wanted here in Paris, she did love a challenge.

Besides, if she learned how to repair a mecha, she might actually do better with the damn things in the field. She needed all the help she could get on that score.

“Can I help?” she asked, and was rewarded by a brilliant grin from Planchet.

An hour later, Dana sat inside the most complete of the broken mecha suits. The pilot’s nest was the easiest position from which to run a full diagnostic. Next to this bucket of bolts, the mecha that Dana used for her work with Commandant Essart was starting to look pretty damned shiny.

“I have to go deliver some contracts for Madame Su,” said Planchet, speaking loudly from outside the casing. “It’ll only take half an hour. Are you all right in there?”

“Yep,” said Dana, who had checked twice that she was able to release the opening mechanisms from the inside. “It’ll take me nearly that long to get this done.”

“That doesn’t sound very promising,” said Planchet, her smile dimming slightly.

“Let’s just say, she’s a fixer-upper. There’s a lot more wrong with the internals than a few burned-out circuits.”

Not even that report could get Planchet down. “Well I wouldn’t want it to be too easy, that’d be boring!”

“This is why I will never become an engineer,” Dana groaned.

Planchet laughed and ran off on her errand, with all the energy of a robot puppy.

Dana continued with her diagnostic. The view screens worked, which was something of a miracle as she wasn’t entirely sure what they were connected to. She was about to prise up a panel to see the state of the wiring when a familiar figure walked straight past the front of the mecha.

It was Conrad Su. She had never seen him here before, though of course it was technically his home. He stopped before the door to his wife’s office, about to knock, then walked away a few paces instead.

Dana felt odd, not letting him know she was here, but there was no way to reveal her presence that wouldn’t be extremely awkward. Extra awkward, really. At least this way she could be awkward on her own without anyone else knowing about it.

Finally, Conrad returned to the door and knocked quickly, before he could change his mind. “Jingfei?”

Madame Su emerged, staring at him in a very unfriendly manner. She closed the door behind her, not inviting him inside. “Oh, it’s you.”

Conrad dragged a hand through his spiky blue hair – a nervous habit of his. “How are you? I mean, after -”

“I am somewhat recovered from being imprisoned, threatened and scared half to death, thank you so much for asking,” she hissed.

He reached out, touching her arm. “I am sorry about all that. I never meant to bring it all down on you.”

Madame Su crossed her arms. “You never think, do you, Con? This is what I get for marrying such a boy. It’s all games and sports and friends and danger, without a thought of those who get hurt along the way!”

They looked at each other for a long moment, and then Conrad hugged her, murmuring apologies. Madame Su scowled darkly, but allowed him to comfort her, angrily wiping a dash of tears from one eye so he wouldn’t see them.

Dana had never felt more like an intruder in her life. At least the mecha was disabled and so her every embarrassed twitch she made would not be reflected by its giant limbs flailing around. She would have given anything to be able to sidle away, unseen.

Conrad drew back from his wife, kissing her once on the forehead. “Jingfei, I’m sorry, I really am, but I need your help. I can only ask someone that I can trust.”

Madame Su pushed him away. “What trouble have you got yourself into now?”

“It’s nothing bad, or even difficult. But I need you to carry a letter to Valour for me.”

Valour. Dana hissed beneath her breath.

“Valour?” Madame Su said in astonishment. “You want me to travel to another planet as some messenger girl? I have a business to run here!”

Conrad was showing his anxiety now. “There’s no time to waste. I can’t go myself, the Palace -”

“Oh yes, your precious Palace,” Madame Su mocked. “I have a new contract to fill for the Calais, and more coming from a very important new patron. I don’t have time for your little intrigues. Hire a Raven if you can’t send a text like a normal person.”

“Jingfei,” he whispered, pleading with her. “It’s important. For the Crown.”

His wife arched back as if he had said something shocking, and then she smiled an oddly cruel sort of smile. “Conrad, darling. Not everyone serves the Crown first.”

There was a pause as he took in her words. Then he straightened, nodding as if she had said something polite and completely uninteresting. “My mistake. I’m sorry, Jingfei. I won’t bother you with this again.”

Madame Su held her cheek out to him, and Conrad kissed her dutifully as if she was an elderly aunt, then walked away, his boots making a muffled sound against the metal floor.

Dana let out a long, painful breath. She almost wished she had not seen that. But a moment later, what she saw was fifty times worse.

“Is he gone?” asked someone from inside Madame Su’s office.

“Yes,” said Madame Su in a shaky voice. “Did I do the right thing?”

To Dana’s horror, when the guest emerged from the office, it was the familiar figure of Ro – or Captain Rosnay Cho, to be more precise. Today’s flight suit was a pale green, with two matching hair combs in the same colour, glittering with jade studs. “I would have preferred it if you had thought quickly enough to take the letter,” Ro drawled. “Then we’d know what his master was up to. But this will do nicely for now. Thank you for your help.” She patted the other woman on the shoulder.

Madame Su straightened with pride. “The Cardinal is a good woman. I know she has everyone’s best interests at heart.”

Ro sent her a jagged smile. “She pays well, too. Enjoy your new contracts, Madame Su. I think you’ll find them to be extremely generous.” And with that, she left the workshop in that long, confident stride of hers, hair sweeping out behind her.

Dana waited until she was sure that Madame Su was back in her office. Then she slowly let herself out of the mecha, stretching her sore limbs when she was finally free of confinement. After taking a moment to catch her breath, she dashed out of the workshop only to run smack bang into Planchet, who was carrying a box of pastries.

“Aaaargh!” Dana yelled, her nerves already jangled beyond their limits.

“Aaargh!” Planchet replied. “Why are we yelling? What’s -”

But Dana did not let her ask any more than that. She grabbed her by the collar and pulled her along. “Did you see Conrad on your way up?”

“Yes, he’s mooching over in the direction of the Promenade, looking cross. I didn’t like to -”

“Shush!”

Dana hurried along the nearest walkway, which came out above the Promenade. Some distance from them, she could see the still figure of Rosnay Cho leaning on the rail. By following her line of sight, she could see Conrad who was indeed mooching with a side order of moping. He sat a cafe table, his shoulders slumped in defeat and his face thunderous. He had no idea that he was being so closely observed.

“He looks like he needs a pastry,” Planchet said sympathetically.

“No,” said Dana. “You know who needs pastry? That lady.” She pointed at Ro. “She’s the one we rescued him from when he was abducted.”

Planchet wrapped a protective arm around her pastry box. “If that’s true, I don’t feel she deserves pastry.”

“I need you to cause a distraction. A whopper of a distraction. Then I will buy you a new box of any baked goods you like. Promise.”

Planchet’s eyes lit up. “Is it another adventure?”

“The same one, actually.”

“That’s even better! The last one was brilliant.”

Dana managed to position herself down on the Promenade, as close as she could get to Conrad Su without being in Ro’s line of sight. She then waited for her moment.

There was a commotion up on the balcony as Planchet pounced, making loud declarations about how her boss had sent these for Captain Cho, and she hoped she liked them, and oh! she was so sorry, she didn’t mean to get sugar all over her feet, and so on. It was a good distraction, involving flailing arms, pastry crumbs and at least three other passers-by, not even counting the crowd who stopped to watch the disaster.

Conrad Su glanced up, his head tilting as he tried to take in the full extent of the scene being played out above him. Dana ran forward and grabbed his hand. She dragged him along with her until they reached a row of privacy booths, then shoved him inside an empty one.

He went willingly enough, if still confused. Once she had closed the door behind them, Dana peeked out through the view screen, checking that Ro had not seen them make a break for it. The special agent was still wiping Planchet, the remains of several pastries, and a whole lot of powdered sugar off her green flight suit, which made Dana think they had got away with it.

She turned back to Conrad. It was a small booth, so they were all but pressed together. He had an odd sort of smile on his face. “This is unexpected,” he said. “You could have just called, if you wanted to see me.”

Dana shoved him hard in the chest, wanting to make that flirtatious look on his face disappear fast. “This isn’t a seduction!”

“Good,” he shot back, giving her a bit of a shove back, though his hand connected with her shoulder instead of her chest. “Because you’re terrible at it!”

“Your wife is working for the Cardinal now,” she warned him.

Conrad groaned, and pulled his hand through his spiky blue hair again. He wasn’t going to have any left by the end of the day. “Yes, I’d worked that out for myself, cheers. And now I’m screwed, because I need someone to take the Prince’s letter to Valour. Someone who is completely trustworthy, and I’ve got nothing.”

Dana lifted her eyebrows at him.

Conrad looked back at her, his eyes suddenly sparking with possibility. “You know the Musketeers. Which of them is the least likely to be in the pocket of the Cardinal?”

Dana blinked in astonishment. “None of them!”

“Oh, come on,” he said skeptically. “Everyone has their price, Dana.”

“You haven’t asked me mine.”

He looked surprised at that. “You?”

“Don’t tell me you still don’t trust me,” she scowled. “You gave me enough to sink the government ten times over, last week.”

“I know, but.” He hesitated. “You’re not even a Musketeer.”

“Oh thank you, very much! Do you want your letter delivered or not?”

Conrad crossed his hands over his chest. “I don’t want to see you killed. You might have got away with that little pantomime up there, but this is serious shit. People could end up dead for this letter.”

“Do you really want to explain its contents to anyone else?” she hissed at him. “I know already, Conrad. I know what that letter has to be asking the Duchess of Buckingham to do. It’s the coat, isn’t it?”

He slumped against the walls of the privacy booth. “That fucking coat. I can make a new one in time for the ball, but we daren’t risk trying to replace those studs. We could manage one or two, but the whole set? Too much could go wrong, and it’s obvious that they know, which makes it worse.”

“Is that why you didn’t give the letter to Dubois?” Dana asked in a low voice. “Or is it me you suspect?”

Conrad sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t think either of you are whispering to the Cardinal. For all we know, she and her goons got there ahead of us and wired the whole fucking mecha graveyard for sound. But Dubois already turned me down. She’s trying to fix things up with her husband, and after her last trip to Valour she’s washing her hands of Alek and his – well, you know. Everything.”

“So trust me,” said Dana.

“You don’t even have a ship. Or leave – don’t you work for the mecha squad?”

“I can ask for leave.” Dana remembered what Athos had told her, the day before. No one is more loyal to the Crown or the Solar System or the Musketeers than Amiral Treville. “I can go to Amiral Treville, take her into your confidence.”

Conrad looked at her in alarm. “You have the ear of the Amiral?”

“No one would understand more than she how important it is to keep all this – discreet. If she agrees to help, then I don’t have to do this on my own. She could square my absence with Commandant Essart, and it – would be an official mission.”

It wouldn’t hurt to show Treville the level of Dana’s commitment to the Crown and the Musketeers. For future reference.

“All right,” Conrad said at last, with great reluctance. “If you can really get Amiral Treville on side, I will trust you with the Prince Consort’s letter. But it has to be now, Dana. It has to be today.”

Dana nodded, and on impulse reached out and kissed him on the cheek. He leaned into her for a moment as if he needed to be touched, and she saw how tired he looked. “To Valour and back, for a handful of diamond studs,” she said cheerfully, leaning all the way back so she wouldn’t be tempted to kiss him again. “Piece of cake.”

You have been reading Musketeer Space, by Tansy Rayner Roberts. Tune in next week for another chapter! Please comment, share and link. Musketeer Space is free to read, but if you’d like to support the project for as little as $1 per month, please visit my Patreon page. Pledges can earn rewards such as ebooks, extra content, dedications and the naming of spaceships. Milestones already unlocked include the Musketeer Media Monday posts, the Robotech Rewatch posts, and a special Yuletide prequel story to be released in December. My next funding milestone ($300 a month) will unlock COVER ART.

ROBOTECH REWATCH 15 – Electric Dreams (in Outer Space)

Robotech will be rewatched after these messages.

Say what you like about those Macross/Harmony Gold fellows, they were pretty clever about reusing animation to save a bit of money. Prepare to delve into the depths of Rick Hunter’s subconscious! I know, I was a bit surprised too to discover he had depths. Still waters run deep and all that…

Episode 17. Phantasm

Rick Hunter is in the base hospital, unconscious but under observations by a bunch of medical robots that look a lot like the skutters from Red Dwarf. His subconscious takes him on a magical mystery tour back to that concert Minmei gave that time despite only having two songs.

Is this another clip show? TELL ME NOW IF THIS IS ANOTHER CLIP SHOW.

Weirdly, it is kind of a clip show, retelling key moments from Rick’s life in an odd, surrealist fashion – setting off to fly his Robotech fighter for the first time, calling Lisa an old lady, Minmei being grabbed by a giant hand, getting advice from Roy, training montage – genuine bits of earlier animation are recycled and jumbled up with surrealist retellings and redrawings that heighten Rick’s concerns and his more paranoid imaginings. Sometimes the soundtrack is the same, but mostly it’s a complete redub to add to the weirdness of the experience.

Well played, Harmony Gold. Well played.

What Rick’s subconscious is telling him, over and over, is that he really likes rescuing Minmei. Rescuing Minmei is basically what he’s all about.

And yet… Lisa’s in there too. Plus a whole bunch of Robotech action shots, because they’re sexy too and we all know that the OTP of this show is Rick Hunter/planes. Lisa apparently represents the part of Rick’s subconsciousness that thinks he’s a bit of an idiot for chasing Minmei all the time. It’s hard to argue with that.

RICK: Whenever I fly I get shot down but now I can save her with this magic bicycle.

TANNOY ANNOUNCER: Attention! Lieutenant Rick Hunter was shot down this morning while attempting to fly a bicycle.

Possibly the best 2 lines in Robotech ever, just saying.

In his dream, Rick’s friends – including Lisa – decide to help him while still judging him so hard for his ‘saving people thing’. It’s a retelling of the last alien adventure he had with Ben, Max and Lisa, only this time it’s all about Minmei.

Is this really going to go on for the whole episode?

Seriously, this is only slightly more interesting than Gloval’s report.

This is the longest Rick and Lisa have spent together without fighting. Shame she’s a figment of his imagination.

When Rick finally reaches Minmei to rescue her from the giant Breetai, she tells him that she can’t come with him because Kyle told her not to. At which point, the giant Breetai turns into Kyle and Rick fights him. This is my favourite thing that Kyle ever does in this show. It’s all downhill from here.

Rick then rescues Minmei against her will, because he’s cross about Kyle controlling her? Oh, Rick, the inner workings of your mind do not show you off at your best.

They end up back in the depths of the ship where Rick and Minmei were captured that time. All I can hope at this point is a return of the giant tuna. I really loved the giant tuna.

Lisa starts swapping in and out with Minmei, as Rick observes a battle from afar and completely fails to tell the difference between them. It’s not quite like Dimensions in Time, but it’s getting there.

MINMEI NUDE SHOT.

Well of course they repeated the fanservice shower scene but do I get my giant tuna? No I do not.

It’s easier for Rick to have a conversation about his frustrations with Minmei during a flashback while he’s in a coma than in real life. This is all you need to know about Rick.

“I wonder if she’ll pay more attention to me now that I’ve rescued her?”

Oh, Rick.

They basically go through their entire two weeks trapped all over again, though this time Rick has the foreknowledge of when they will be rescued. It’s like he’s a superhero who can predict very dull information about bus timetables!

Minmei suggests at one point that Rick should become a world leader some day. The thought of this is so horrendous that I had to stop typing for a while to recover.

I really could have lived without seeing Minmei and Rick’s fake wedding again, though this version is even more drawn out and is now interrupted by them fighting about the conflict between her career and his military duty instead of the ceiling opening up and trying to crush them.

ONLY THESE TWO COULD HAVE A BREAK UP CONVERSATION WITHOUT ACTUALLY HAVING A RELATIONSHIP.

Of course when Rick kisses her, he finds himself back in another kiss, the alien-squicking Lisa kiss. Is his choice between Minmei and Lisa (assuming either of them would have him) really a choice between military service and being a civilian?

Narrator:

Yes, Rick, only a dream.

Me:

REALLY, a WHOLE episode of this? It’s not like Rick is especially cagy about his inner thoughts at any other time, he’s generally an open book.

And no giant tuna.

So disappointing. At least people start dying next week.

This weekly rewatch of classic animated space opera Robotech is brought to you as bonus content for the Musketeer Space project. Thanks to everyone who has linked, commented, and especially to my paid patrons. You can support Musketeer Space at Patreon.

Friday Links is a Series, Not a Standalone

You Can’t Take The Sky Kanga From Me

Friday links lives! It lives! The biggest obstacle to Friday links, in fact, has been that my mother has been babysitting for me on Friday mornings, allowing me a blissful several hours a week to type frantically in a library where the wifi is so slow I don’t even turn it on – distraction free writing time!

So in an effort to return to old traditions, I’m putting Friday Links together on a Thursday night. How’s that for a life hack?

Justin Landon at Staffer’s Book Review has proclaimed that The Series is Dying. And The Internet Killed It. I don’t want to agree with him and I’m not entirely sure that I do – but his point about which books are getting buzz feels very accurate to me, and I have turned into that reader who enjoys and raves about the first book in the series, but can’t quite be bothered to pick up the second, so who am I to throw custard pies?

Kameron Hurley has been blogging up a storm all over the internet, promoting her new book The Mirror Empire. Which I am very excited to read, but I pre-ordered which in my world means I get it three weeks after everyone else. #sadfacts I was particularly drawn to this piece she wrote for SF Signal – 5 Things I Learned When I Stopped Worrying About Genre. We could all pretend that I’m not recommending this article purely because Kameron refers to the genre implications of Wonder Woman riding a giant kangaroo through space, but we all know that we would be lying to ourselves.

Speaking of genre, Damien Walter had some interesting thoughts this week on Space Opera and how it’s the thing that’s about to be super hot right now (not his actual article title). This is a thing with no drawbacks.

Steph & Liz at No Award do a signal boost post for Indigenous Literacy Day. Check it out!

K. Tempest Bradford talks about how we need more venues for talking about short stories. This is so much a true thing I want to make it an enormous glittery banner of awesomeness. I have been involved one way or another with various attempts to do this thing over the years and I’m a bit burned out on the whole thing now but the idea of a GoodReads for short fiction… why the hell hasn’t that been invented yet? Someone who isn’t me, get on it!

The Mary Sue teaches important things, like life lessons learned from Labyrinth. This made me smile. Particularly the bit about not trusting owls no matter what JK Rowling tells you.

Hark, A Vagrant did a thing about The Lady of Shalott. It might slightly be the best thing on the internet. You decide.

And finally, the haters have been out hating hard against Anita Sarkeesian, because she is a woman with smarts who figured out a way to earn money doing the thing that she loves, and girls aren’t allowed to talk about games unless they are apparently also making you a sandwich in the kitchen? That’s my understanding of the colossal crapfest that has happened across the internet in places that are not happy and relevant to the Lady of Shalott.

Finally, gamers are standing up shoulder to shoulder to say that this isn’t okay. Damn straight it’s not okay.

Warning, this vid is not a great idea to play around small children or bosses at work, unless they’ve already seen games that have this kind of dodgy stuff in any way, in which case it should maybe be compulsory. Personally I am not a massive gamer but I find Sarkeesian’s commentary on gender tropes really useful and insightful in relation to fantasy fiction and its tropes – this particular vid adds to the grimdark conversation and her final speech is something I’d like to see shared among all fantasy readers and writers as well as gamers.

Musketeer Space Part 16 – Cinquefoil For Beginners

Happy Musketeer Day! In exciting book news, I just got the author copies of The Mammoth Book of Gaslit Romance, edited by Ekaterina Sedia, which includes a reprint of my story “Lamia Victoriana” from the Love and Romanpunk collection. I also have a couple of new stories out or due for publication soon! “Of War and Wings” appearing in the crowdfunded Clockwork Universe: Steampunk V. Aliens which has been posted out to backers in the last week or so, with only the signed copies still waiting to go out. The book will be available to the public on September 15 via Amazon and the Kindle. “The Love Letters of Swans” will appear in the Fablecroft anthology Phantazein which should be out in October in time for Conflux. It’s my ‘work through your issues with the Helen and Paris myth’ story and is a teeny bit smutty.

So hooray, more Tansy writing out there in the world. Not to mention all the amazing reviews coming in for Kaleidoscope. It’s wonderful to be part of a book that’s getting so much attention and buzz – I’ve been reading the other stories myself this week and they are SO GOOD.

It’s September now, can you believe it? I’ve been doing this Musketeer chapter every week thing since May! Everyone who contributes financially to Musketeer Space via Patreon, I love you dearly. Everyone who reads the book as each chapter goes up, I love you loads. And everyone who is saving it all up to read in one go at the end, I’m totally going to love you around this time next year. Brace yourselves for that.

Those of you who support Musketeer Space at the $3 or above level should have received The Pilot’s Slice, my official newsletter of the project, on the last day of August. Please get in touch if you don’t have your copy and you think you should have it! The latest issue includes a piece on the historical and literary role of Madame Chevreuse, as well as some insights into how my daughters are dealing with my Musketeer obsession.

This chapter’s all about blood sports, and how to avoid talking about feelings with your friends.

Start reading from Part 1

Missed the last installment? Track back to Part 15.

Main Page & Table of Contents

PREVIOUSLY IN MUSKETEER SPACE: Dana D’Artagnan has stumbled across a conspiracy involving Alek the Prince Consort, Buck the Duchess of Buckingham, and Chevreuse the mysterious former PR minister. Dana is far too attracted to her landlady’s husband Conrad, who is deeply involved in the conspiracy. Buck has a sinister man called Winter living inside her head, and she really shouldn’t have taken the Prince’s diamond-studded peacock coat back with her to the planet Valour. Oh, and Athos managed to get himself arrested instead of Dana, so that was fun.

NOW READ ON!

This chapter is dedicated to Grant Watson, who created my lovely banner for me! Check out Grant’s own Patreon page for

Fiction Machine: exploring the world of cinema.

Part 16 – Cinquefoil For Beginners

A week after the events that Dana D’Artagnan had mentally filed away as That Night, she came off a double transport shift at Paris Satellite only to find Athos waiting for her at the gate. When she caught sight of him, he tilted his head at her expectantly.

It wasn’t that she had been trying to avoid him, but she certainly hadn’t minded the excuse of extra shifts, and other day to day commitments that had…

She had been avoiding him, and he knew it. So there was that.

“I am so sorry,” Dana blurted out when she got close enough to speak.

Athos shook his head, took her arm and hauled her along the concourse, heading for Marie Antoinette Esplanade. “Not here. Practice rooms.”

Dana pressed her lips together, knowing discretion was necessary, but it was all she could do to stop herself from rolling out a dozen more apologies between here and their destination.

Finally they reached the entertainment hub, where Athos paid for a rec space with a credit swipe of his stud. Only when they were inside the sleek and empty white practice room did Dana realise that he had more than one baton hanging from his belt. What was the plural of a Pilot’s Slice?

“You want to fence?” she said warily as he tossed the second baton to her, and stripped off his Musketeer jacket.

“Porthos said you’d keep avoiding me until I let you get some stuff off your chest, and I thought that sounded like a ridiculous waste of time, but she’s generally right about these things.” He frowned at her. “If we do it this way, at least we’ll be doing something productive.”

Dana scowled. “Porthos should keep her nose out of everyone else’s business.”

“See, D’Artagnan? That is why you and I are friends now.” Athos called up a screen in the wall and tapped a few print commands into it. “Did you get fitted for the practice gear I told you about? You need your own pattern to print from.”

“I haven’t had time.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “Preventing bruises saves on medipatches. Make the time. This will do for now.”

Athos’ own fencing jacket, pre-programmed into the system, printed first. A generic woman’s jacket followed, which he tossed to her. He had ordered water bottles and towels, too. “By next time, you’ll need your own strip and mask. For now, concentrate on not stabbing me in the face and I’ll resist the urge to do the same. We won’t go at full speed.”

Dana did not retort that she might have been better prepared for this session if he’d given her any warning. Though she was well aware that if he hadn’t sprung this on her, she might have kept dodging him for at least another week.

“I’ll do my best,” she said, struggling into the stiff jacket. She had been hoping for a lie-down and some dinner at the end of the shift, but she knew better than to argue with Athos in a mood like this. And besides… she owed him.

“Stop looking at me like you drowned my pet,” he snapped, setting his own Pilot’s Slice to the thinnest, lightest setting, with a blunted tip. The SmartMetal was springy that way, at its best for practice bouts. When Porthos played blades with Dana, she encouraged her to go for a heavier weight of sword, but Athos was all about technique.

“Athos, you went to prison for me.” Dana wouldn’t even have known about it if Aramis hadn’t let it slip. Athos had been furious that Aramis opened her mouth, and promptly stormed out of the bar where they had been drinking. Dana had been too embarrassed to look him in the eye ever since.

“Hardly prison,” he scoffed, doing a few experimental lunges with the sword. “The holding cell at the Armoury is an old friend of mine. I was only there a day or so, and it gave me a chance to catch up on the latest graffiti. Are you ready?”

“Just about.” Dana stretched first. Last time she had allowed Athos to lead her in ‘a little light sword practice’ she had spent the following evening massaging painful cramps out of her calves. Athos, it turned out, never did anything lightly.

He was waiting for her, sword at the ready. Dana faced him and they began with a few gentle taps, measuring distance, watching each other. “Besides,” Athos said finally. “I didn’t do it for you. I did it to piss off the Cardinal. Don’t take it personally.”

After that, there wasn’t much time to talk – not with his sword flicking at her, and Dana mustering up all her concentration to accept the lesson for what it was.

If fencing was a conversation, then Athos had all the nouns, adjectives and verbs, and it was all Dana could do to grab the occasional punctuation mark for herself. But whenever she failed to defend herself against one of his moves, he stopped and checked himself, then did it again at half or quarter speed, so she could work out what she could or should have done to counter it.

“This is so much better than talking about our feelings,” she said breathlessly when they finally paused to slug back water from freshly-printed bottles.

“Don’t tell Porthos,” said Athos, with half a grin.

“Did Amiral Treville really go to the Regent herself to get you freed?”

He shrugged with one shoulder, wiping the back of his neck with a towel. “Someone had to. The bastards were keeping me out of the system, so there was no trace of my ID.”

“Treville trusted Aramis and Porthos’ word that they had you in the Armoury?”

Athos reached out and tapped Dana on the nose with his fingertip. “Treville may be scary as all fuck, but she’s loyal to her pilots, and she knows we wouldn’t bullshit her about anything really important. Remember that, D’Artagnan. She’s worth letting into your confidence, if you’ve anything worth protecting. No one is more loyal to the Crown or the Solar System or the Musketeers than our Amiral Treville.”

Dana hesitated, but nodded. Athos didn’t trust many people at all, so this was worth knowing. “So Treville marched into the Palace…”

“And interrupted the Regent at her morning chocolate – with guess who?”

Dana laughed at that, a sudden shout of noise in the muffled practice room. “I bet that went down well.”

“Oh, the Cardinal knows which side her bread is buttered on. She’s always the first to suggest that her enemies be forgiven. It’s the quiet dig she slips in while agreeing with everyone that poisons the trough.” Athos flexed his sword a few more times. “Ready for another bout?”

“It doesn’t count as forgiving me if you take it out of my body in sweat and blood,” Dana groaned, but she dropped her water bottle to the floor and headed into the centre of the space again, sword in hand.

“Nothing to forgive, idiot,” he told her. “But if you haven’t got a touch on me three times by the end of this session, I will expect you to grovel.”

Then they were back into it: flick and slide, parry, defend, lunge, and endless footwork drills.

This must be what it would be like to have a brother, Dana thought as Athos corrected her stance for the fourth time, by literally kicking her feet into the proper position. She grinned stupidly at him, and he looked taken aback, then prodded her in the pit of her stomach with the blunt tip of his sword. “Again. Do better.”

Aramis pounced upon them both when they emerged from the practice room, sweaty and exhausted.

“Kidnapping you!” Aramis announced, flinging an arm around Athos’ shoulders and making a face at him. “So wet. Bleh.”

“Can we go back to my place and shower before the kidnapping?” Athos asked, butting her with his damp head. Aramis squirmed and kept him at arm’s distance.

“Ugh, yes. Though that is against the philosophy of kidnapping, so there may have to be some kind of forfeit.”

“What are we doing now?” Dana sighed, giving into the inevitable, that her time would not be her own until the next work shift. Who needed sleep and food anyway?

Aramis shook her wrist, calling up three virtual tickets which glowed in the air before them and then disappeared back into her credit stud. “CINQUEFOIL!” she howled. “Serpentin versus the Mousers, it’s going to be brutal.”

“I would,” said Athos calmly. “Actually rather eat glass.”

“I know, darling, that’s why it means so much to us that you’re going to overcome your appalling bias against the game of champions and join us,” said Aramis. “Porthos has royal escort duty, which means three tickets going begging. And luckily, there are three of us right here.”

“Give mine to Grimaud.”

“She has her own, obviously. You bought her a season ticket to the Mousers last Joyeux, because you are such a selfless and thoughtful person and she would have dumped your arse years ago if you didn’t come through with the bribes.”

“I’m beginning to regret the error of my generosity,” said Athos.

Aramis ignored him, as she so often did. “Dana, are you in?”

Dana had not managed to see a game of cinquefoil in Paris so far, as Porthos’ preferences were firmly for fleur-de-lis. Athos’ distaste made her all the more curious. “Of course,” she said.

“You’ll regret it,” Athos warned.

“And you have spent far too long in your own company lately, my friend,” said Aramis lightly, her eyes back on him. “Did you think we wouldn’t notice?”

Athos strode ahead, avoiding her steady gaze. “Fine. At least with all the blood spatter and inane commentary, I won’t be expected to make conversation with either of you.”

“So what you’re saying is, I win?” Aramis called after him, then winked at Dana. “I usually win.”

ARTOIS: And here we are back at the Triomphe for the local derby, both of Paris Satellite’s homegrown teams facing off for the first time of the season: that’s Serpentin in green and white, and the Mousers in grey. Your commentary team today is myself, Charlemagne Artois, sitting alongside three-times Solar Cup winner Renee Olympe, how are you this evening, champ?

OLYMPE: I’m excited, Artois, It’s always a grudge match between these two teams, but you only have to look at the lineup to know that this is going to be a tough game. Serpentin are playing their brand new chevalier, Thierry Degas, only months after his controversial transfer back from the Freedom League who poached him from the Mousers themselves two seasons ago for a record transfer sum of 28 million credits.

ARTOIS: Yes, Olympe, you can see from the banners that the Mousers fans are still furious that their former captain returned to Paris only to sign up with their most fierce local rivals. And the team aren’t any happier about it. We can see now before gameplay begins, that the current captain and chevalier of the Mousers, Samir Olivier, has refused to include Degas in his pole salute, that’s quite a snub.

OLYMPE: And who can blame him, Artois, Olivier was one of many young players who came up through the youth club with Degas, and it’s always a blow to find out that your heroes care more for financial incentive than team loyalty – not that I’m bitter, as a long-time Mousers fan myself.

ARTOIS: Not that you’re biased either, Olympe!

OLYMPE: Of course I’m biased, Artois, the Mousers are the best team in the Solar League.

ARTOIS: Five years without winning the Cup suggests otherwise…

OLYMPE: AND IT’S KICKOFF!

Thirty seconds into the game, Dana was prepared to concede Athos’ point about cinquefoil. It had to be the most distressing spectator sport she had ever witnessed. There was a controlled chaos to fleur-de-lis, a dance between the Jousters and their opponents. There was technique and skill, a fierce elegance to the whole thing.

Cinquefoil appeared to have no actual rules. The large zero-gravity tank was the same size as was used for the other game, surrounded on all sides by the audience stands. The higher up you were, the more you could see of the game – and because everyone sat about thirty centimetres from the plexiglass walls of the tank, it was entirely possible for a player to crash into the wall right in front of your face, blood spiralling out in tiny floating globes.

ARTOIS: That’s a beautiful leap from Henri of the Mousers, he’s got a fierce turn of speed on him as he propels himself directly in the path of Valentine.

OLYMPE: Always up the left side, of course, but even when they know it’s coming, he’s – and it’s first blood in the fourth quadrant, with both Serpentin pole attacks making a vicious double play against Bradamante!

ARTOIS: She’s made of nails, that player, it’s like she hasn’t even noticed that her nose is broken, look at that shoulder work as she shoves Valentine directly into Lola Chang’s path and OH THAT HAS TO HURT!

Dana considered herself tough, but she had her hands half covering her face for much of the game. Athos was already several drinks ahead of the rest of them, having started well before they even reached their seats. Aramis, the optimist of the three, genuinely enjoyed the vicious mechanics of the game – or she had, right up to the moment she had spotted Captain Tracy Dubois sitting in a private box with her husband, on the far side of the tank.

Porthos might have lightened the mood, but she was in full uniform, alongside the royal box where the Regent and Prince Consort were enjoying the spectacle. They were accompanied by several friends and ministers, all of whom seemed to be enjoying more of a party atmosphere than Dana’s own friends.

Dana realised with something like a shock that the stately older woman who sat to one side of the Regent in a soft plum-coloured gown was in fact the Cardinal herself. She did not look especially religious, though there was a chilly gravity to her.

Dana shivered for a moment, when she thought the Cardinal had looked in her direction. The last thing she wanted was that kind of attention.

OLYMPE: Believe me, Artois, a broken nose hurts just as much in zero gravity as it does anywhere else, but don’t take your eyes off the second quadrant, where Olivier has kicked his way past the pole challenges of St Girard and Serpentin captain Millefleur, I think we know where he’s going, don’t we?

ARTOIS: But Millefleur isn’t going to let her chevalier get grabbed that easily, look at her hauling Olivier back down into third quadrant and away from his target… and she’s used BOTH HANDS, that’s a foul. Meanwhile, Anjelique ‘the Angel’ Anjou just used St Girard as ballast to rocket her halfway across the tank, and she’s the first of the Mousers to get a tip challenge on Degas.

OLYMPE: They’re in formal jousting mode now, jet packs engaged, and OH THAT’S NASTY!

Dana could not stop glancing over at the royal box, not only because it kept her eyes off the more upsetting violence of the cinquefoil, but because Conrad was there, wearing a bright sky-blue jacket that matched his hair. He sat with the Prince, the two of them watching the game avidly, pointing out every move and player to each other with grins and laughter.

Aramis sighed and dropped her head to Dana’s shoulder, still nursing her wounded heart from seeing Dubois on such good terms with her husband. Even in a morose state, she was far too observant. “I hope it’s not the Prince that you can’t take your eyes off, little one,” she said in a low voice, her mouth brushing Dana’s ear. “We only just finished cleaning up the last scandal in the making…”

Dana elbowed her, turning her eyes firmly back to the game, just as two Serpentin players slammed themselves hard against the Mouser captain, one from above and one from below. The entire audience sucked in a sympathetic breath in unison, and the Mouser supporters around Dana and the others started booing and yelling angrily, some of them physically banging their hands on the tank in protest.

“Of course not,” Dana hissed back at Aramis. “Don’t even think things like that!”

Aramis chuckled to herself. “It happens. Such pretty men, these New Aristocrats. Not my type, of course, but I see the appeal.”

“Can you stop right now?”

“I’m only teasing, Dana,” Aramis said seriously. “I know it’s the tailor you have eyes for.”

“I hate you!” Dana snapped, slumping lower in her chair.

Aramis reached over her shoulders to catch Athos’ attention by smacking him on the head. “Athos, Athos! Dana likes a boy.”

“They grow up so fast,” Athos said without missing a beat, though he was distracted by calling up another drink, and wasn’t properly listening. “Is the game over yet?”

“Quarter time,” said Aramis as the whistle went and the players retreated to have the worst of their wounds bandaged.

“Give me strength.”

The second quarter was just as vicious, with both teams down to four players each by the end of it, and at least four poles swapped out due to breakages. The zero-gravity well inside the tank now had to be sluiced with air pressure to remove all the globules of blood and floating splinters before the next round.

Since Athos wasn’t interested in anything but drinking, and Aramis continued to dart searching looks back at Dubois and her husband, it was down to Dana to fetch supplies from the noodle stand down on the main deck. She returned with her hands full of damp paper containers and egg rolls, to find that the audience had been quietened for a royal speech.

“Just in time,” Aramis groaned, snatching at the food. “I will bury my heartbroken melancholy in sticky prawns.”

“There aren’t enough prawns in the world to bury your heartbreaks,” Athos drawled.

They hushed as the Regent stood and began her speech.

All over again, Dana was impressed by the Regent’s grace and beauty. Lalla-Louise Regent Royal had an extraordinary public presence, her charisma shining out of her face. It was easy to see how she had won the propaganda battle, and why the people had believed every promise that she made to hold the system together instead of allowing it to fracture into a series of planetary rulerships.

“You should know, my people, that I would never lie to you,” she said now, her low and melodic voice picked up and piped into every chair, every comm channel, so it was as if she spoke directly into every row of seats. “Many of my advisors have suggested that I deny the rumours that have arisen in recent days. Rumours that the Sun-kissed are on the move, and that several provincial attacks might well be the work of our old enemy.”

Dana felt rather than saw the reactions of Aramis on one side of her, and Athos on the other. Their backs straightened, and their chins lifted. This was them as professionals, she realised. They had a tension to them, as if they were about to be called to arms.

“…But no matter the distress and panic it may cause, I need you to know that I trust you all with this knowledge. If the Sun-kissed try to march against us again, let them come, for we are strong. Strong in faith and strong in arms. The Royal Fleet, whether it be the Sabres or the Musketeers, the Mecha Squads, the Red Guard, all serve the Crown and the Solar System, and we will always defeat the aliens who test our faith.”

The Cardinal stood with the Regent now, on one side, and the Prince Consort on the other. It was a powerful image, their strength united.

Dana felt something soft drift past her shoulder blades and she realised that Aramis had reached around her, so that one hand brushed lightly against the back of Athos’ neck. His eyes bore into the Regent and her supporters, a fierce and angry gaze. Dana had never seen him look so cold before.

Had either of them, and Porthos too, had they fought against the Sun-kissed in the war? It was eight years ago. She did not know how long it was since her Musketeers had joined up. They could have been in the service, fighting against the aliens who almost destroyed the Solar System.

Athos’ hands were shaking. Dana pretended she had not seen.

But the Regent was talking of other things now; she lightened the mood with a joke, and a merry smile. The audience relaxed around her, responding to her upbeat tone. Aramis drew her hand back, and Athos did not look at her.

“Because cheer is as important in times of peace and faith as it was in our darker times, I have a joyful announcement to share with all of Paris!” the Regent announced. “At her Eminence’s suggestion, we are to hold a ball for my beloved Prince Alek’s birthday.” She squeezed her husband’s hand, and smiled adoringly at him. “It shall be televised live to the whole populace, who I’m sure will be greatly entertained by our frivolities and our costumes. The theme will be Diamonds and Peacocks!”

Dana spat out a mouthful of her drink. Athos automatically confiscated her cup, and swallowed half of its contents.

The royal couple were besieged by applause and well-wishers, as their assorted hangers on demonstrated their pleasure at the idea of a ball, and several official media types began to ask questions about which celebrities might be expected to attend.

The Prince Consort’s smile, however warm it was as he turned it upon his wife, lacked something when he turned away from her. The cams captured everything about his faltering face, throwing it up on the larger screens. Conrad, sitting right next to the Prince, looked as if his world had just ended.

“Damn it,” Dana murmured beneath her breath.

Both Aramis and Athos turned to her. “Trouble?” asked Athos as if a distraction was exactly what he needed.

Dana nodded very slowly. It couldn’t be a coincidence. The Regent – or the Cardinal – or both of them, knew about the peacock coat and the diamond studs and the Duke of Buckingham.

“Trouble,” she said grimly. “But I don’t think there’s anything we can do to stop it.”

“Haven’t you heard?” said Aramis lightly, tossing a food carton from hand to hand as if there had been no discussion at all today of aliens and war and a possible return to the darkest time that their people had ever faced. “We’re Musketeers. Trouble is our best thing.”

You have been reading Musketeer Space, by Tansy Rayner Roberts. Tune in next week for another chapter! Please comment, share and link. Musketeer Space is free to read, but if you’d like to support the project for as little as $1 per month, please visit my Patreon page. Pledges can earn rewards such as ebooks, extra content, dedications and the naming of spaceships. Milestones already unlocked include the Musketeer Media Monday posts, the Robotech Rewatch posts, and a special Yuletide prequel story to be released in December. My next funding milestone ($300 a month) will unlock COVER ART.

ROBOTECH REWATCH 14 – The Pacifist’s Fighting Feet

Robotech will be rewatched after these messages.

Lynn Kyle is a jerk and I hate his face.

Episode 16 – Battle Cry

Captain Gloval is under siege by his bridge crew, all demanding that he do something about the ridiculous and unfair decision by Headquarters – that the SDF1 has to go back into space.

The situation is fraught but luckily there is lunch to distract them.

Meanwhile, Lynn Kyle arrives in Macross City to the shock of his parents. His mother is delighted, but his father has a very odd response, refusing to talk to him in favour of doing the washing up with repressed emotions.

The more we get to know of Kyle’s personality, the more understandable this reaction is. Quiet fist bump in the direction of Papa Lynn.

The Zentraedi spies are so starving they break a window to steal food – unfortunately they don’t know the Japanese tradition of placing plastic food replicas in the window. To their surprise, the nice restaurant owner welcomes them in for a bite to eat since they’re obviously in need of it. Not a word is said about the broken window, or about ration books. They totally lucked out with this one.

The bridge crew turn up to Minmei’s family restaurant to find Rick moping at a table on his own – he’s been ignored during the grand reunion with Kyle, so is happy to see some friendly faces. Lisa is startled at how similar he is to her former lover, Karl Riber (though honestly in the flashbacks they look NOTHING alike, and we know their attitude to the military is exactly opposite, so – I don’t see it?) and the rest of the girls just leer at him because he’s kinda hot.

Also at some point Max appears ninja-like at the table – once again he arrives in the middle of scenes and pretends he’s been there for ages.

Kyle’s angry pacifist ways make for some awkward conversations with Rick and the bridge crew, as he’s one of *those* pacifists who can’t stop yelling about how much he hates war and people who fight wars, despite being in the middle of a giant space war. Things get worse when a muddled official announcement reveals that no one is leaving the ship yet, and the civilians get angry at the most immediately available representatives of the military.

Riot!

It turns out that all of the citizens eating at the Chinese restaurant tonight are violent, punch-happy dudes. So that’s inconvenient. In the midst of the fight, Max stops a thug grabbing Lisa, and Kyle steps in with his amazing martial arts techniques to beat up a whole bunch of people with his feet.

Yep. He’s a pacifist all right. In no way a hypocrite as he beats his opponents into the ground, only pausing to tidy his long flowing hair.

“You’re a pretty well trained fighter for someone who doesn’t like to fight.”

Max, to Kyle.

Kyle then rejects Lisa’s help on the grounds, sneering at her for being one of those despicable military types. Instead, he lets Minmei clean his tiny scratch, and smirks. Words can never convey what a complete douche Kyle is. I hate him forever. He has no redeeming features.

After the ad break, Commander Azonia of the Zentraedi is shocked that Khyron has gone off without specific military orders again. Why she should be shocked is a mystery given that IT’S KHYRON.

No one on either side has any idea what Khyron intends to achieve by this new attack. Again, par for the course.

Lisa, meanwhile, is dazed with thoughts of Karl and Kyle, who are all mixed up together in her head. I am going to choose to pretend that I have no interest in her as a character until she is over this. I can’t even.

Once the actual attack begins, we get to see Claudia and Lisa working brilliantly together – mostly. Rick has a miniature breakdown in the field before pulling himself together and getting on with the action – but then Lisa freezes up in command, terrified that he’s going to hurt himself again.

Miriya’s job is to stop Khyron, and not to engage with the Micronians, but she pretends her radio isn’t working in order to join the fun. Honestly, it’s like Azonia is a kindergarten teacher. Azonia chews out Khyron and convinces him to return, but while he agrees to be a good boy, he also tells his very posh-sounding second in command not to forget his souvenir, which is code for ‘keep attacking them’.

As the Zentraedi command ship gets closer and closer to the SDF1, they plan to enact the manoeuvre that Lisa is famous for and that the aliens haven’t stopped falling for yet – when the Daedalus aircraft carrier waits until the last minute and then punches them right where it hurts, in the fleet.

Unfortunately, despite Claudia’s loud countdown, Lisa gets distracted and doesn’t push the button at the right moment. LISA I AM SO DISAPPOINTED IN YOU, STOP THINKING ABOUT BOYS.

Rick is caught in direct line of the SDF1 missiles and shot out of the sky. This is basically Lisa’s fault.

Nevertheless, the humans win the day and Khyron is once again left howling about how weird and frustrating it is that his plans never work. Even though he never consults anyone about his plans ahead of time. Funny, that.

Captain Gloval congratulates Lisa on a job well done, but she breaks down in tears, knowing how badly she screwed up this time. And of course, terrified that she has got Rick killed.

This weekly rewatch of classic animated space opera Robotech is brought to you as bonus content for the Musketeer Space project. Thanks to everyone who has linked, commented, and especially to my paid patrons. You can support Musketeer Space at Patreon.

Musketeer Space Part 15: Whatever Happened To Madame Su

Hello Musketeer Day!

In other news, jet lag sucks. It really, really sucks. I was basically assuming it was one of those mind over matter things like writer’s block? But no, I actually keep keeling over randomly at various times of the day, as if I have been beaten over the head with something heavy.

Jet lag really REALLY sucks. But my trip to Loncon3 was otherwise awesome. I got to meet so many online friends and colleagues, and plenty of wonderful new people too. I AM OMG SO GLAD TO BE HOME.

We didn’t win a Hugo for Galactic Suburbia or Verity, but while I was away my crime novel (writing as Livia Day) A Trifle Dead was nominated for two different awards, the Silver Falchion in the US and the Davitt here in Australia. So that’s pretty bloody awesome.

And I was pretty delighted with all the stuff that did win Hugos. So that was nice!

Never mind all that, you’re here for Musketeers. Allow me to provide…

Start reading from Part 1

Missed the last installment? Track back to Part 14.

Main Page & Table of Contents

PREVIOUSLY IN MUSKETEER SPACE: Madame Su is a perfectly sensible businesswoman and entrepreneur whose young husband Conrad is handsome, loyal and a magnet for trouble. He works as a tailor in the Palace, making silk coats for the Prince Regent, and playing Zero-G TeamJoust with him in his spare time. When Conrad was abducted for his part in yet another ridiculous Palace conspiracy, Madame Su turned in desperation to her young lodger, Mecha-Cadet Dana D’Artagnan, to help them. While Dana had her own (probably unimportant) adventures, Madame Su was arrested by the red guards. None of this has anything to do with her. She is so over this. Conrad is going to be in so much trouble when he gets home.

NOW READ ON!

This chapter is dedicated to Catherine MacDonald. Thanks so much for supporting Musketeer Space!

Part 15: Whatever Happened to Madame Su

While Dana D’Artagnan and her new friend Conrad Su were entangling themselves in the politics and love life of a nation, and the Duchess of Buckingham had been entangling herself with the Prince Consort of the Solar System, one person’s fate had – until now – been somewhat forgotten.

But have no fear; we shall learn her story now.

Madame Su was a straightforward woman. She ran her businesses with a tight hand and a shrewd attitude to the bottom line. She made most of her decisions based on what was practical – though like most people, she also appreciated the luxuries that life and a successful business afforded her. A silk suit, a gold necklace, a pretty young husband with a prestigious position at the Palace.

She had no interest in politics, apart from the fact that it often deprived her of Conrad, because his closeness to the Prince Consort made him a regular target of investigation.

Up until now, however, the inconvenience had been minor, and had not directly affected her.

But here she was, under arrest, deep in the holding cells of Church jurisdiction on Paris Satellite, an installation referred to often as The Armoury because, of course, it was full of Sabres.

In truth, Madame Su had not seen many Sabres at all. The red guards who had arrested her (and set up a trap in her apartment to arrest any of her friends and customers to called on her) were raw recruits, new to Paris. The Cardinal was known to be a generous employer, and it was common for each month’s complement new guards to be given the Paris detail before being sent further abroad on matters of significance to the Church.

This explained somewhat why Madame Su’s regular bribery of her local red guards to keep them from looking too closely at her business affairs, had made no difference at all in this instance.

After many long, miserable hours alone in the holding cells, Madame Su was dragged out to face the Commissary, whose task it was to interrogate her about the activities of her husband.

The Commissary was a short, squat woman who looked rather like a tortoise. She also had very little interest in TeamJoust one way or another, which was unfortunate, because her attempt to discreetly discover what political conspiracies might involve Conrad Su were overwhelmed by Madame Su’s need to complain loudly about the terrible effect that sporting loyalties had upon husbands.

Actually, Madame Su had a lot of complaints to make about her husband, and they had been building up to a critical level over the last several hours. They all came spilling out of her at once, and the Commissary was obliged to listen, though she stopped taking notes when it became obvious that very few of these complaints had anything to do with Church or Crown politics.

In attempt to stem the flow and bring the topic back to relevancy, the Commissary tried to raise the subject of Madame Su’s lodger. “I believe you have a D’Artagnan staying on your property?”

“Oh,” said Madame Su, finally finding something to smile about. “Yes. It’s good to have a strong pair of hands around, what with never seeing my husband, and the business relying so much on me being at my absolute best…”

The Commissary coughed. “We have in fact brought this D’Artagnan in for questioning.”

Madame Su froze for a moment. “You have?” she said in alarm. “But oh, that’s no good, she was going to find my wretched husband for me, she can’t do that if you have her in here!”

“We plan to locate your husband ourselves, don’t worry about that, Madame Su,” said the Commissary, before the other words sank in. “She? You mean he.”

Madame Su looked confused. “I do?”

“Is your D’Artagnan married, perhaps?”

“I suppose she might be.” Madame Su was outraged all over again. “I only charge for one in that room! Are you telling me she has been concealing a husband and only paying half? Oh, it’s terrible what young people try to get away with these days. If she’s that untrustworthy, she probably hasn’t even started looking for my Conrad.”

The Commissary made a mental note to apply to the Cardinal for a pay rise. “Let’s get this D’Artagnan in here and see what he has to say, shall we?” She spoke into her comm chip. “Sergeant, bring D’Artagnan up from the cells to join us.”

After a few moments, the confusion in the interrogation room reached its peak, because the man who was brought in by two of the red guard was a tall, blond pilot in a battered flight suit and bright blue Musketeer jacket. He bowed politely to them both.

Madame Su stared at him, waiting for an explanation.

“Now perhaps, we can get somewhere,” said the Commissary. “Sit if you like, D’Artagnan. This may be a long night.”

“I’d prefer to stand, if you don’t mind,” said the Musketeer with a polite bow in the direction of Madame Su. “The holding cell to which I was directed was so small that I could barely stretch my legs.”

“Fine,” sighed the Commissary. “We have invited you here to help us with our enquiries about the whereabouts of Mr Conrad Su. Do you think you can shed light on this matter?”

“I can’t think how I could,” said the Musketeer, leaning against the back wall of the interrogation room, and stretching his arms and legs in slow succession. “I’ve never met the man.”

The Commissary turned to Madame Su. “Is that correct, Madame? Has D’Artagnan never met your husband?”

“Well, I don’t know,” said Madame Su, looking at the Musketeer in confusion. “That is, I don’t think she had, before I sent her to find him, but she might have met him since, if she rescued him from his abduction as I… I’m sorry, you do know that this isn’t D’Artagnan, don’t you?”

“That’s quite correct,” said the Musketeer. “Apologies for the interruption, but I am not D’Artagnan.”

“You mean that you are not the Madame D’Artagnan who pays rent with Madame Su, but you are… her husband, then?” said the Commissary, paddling furiously.

“I have no wife,” said the Musketeer, and for the first time his tone seemed less than light.

“So your name is not D’Artagnan?”

“Not in the least.”

The Commissary blinked twice and looked at Madame Su. “Who is this man?”

“I thought you knew!” she exploded. “He’s not D’Artagnan, that’s for sure.” She gave the Musketeer a dirty look. “And if she has been hiding a husband, I am certainly going to charge her double and backdate the rent!”

“Madame, I assure you, I have not been hiding out in D’Artagnan’s apartment,” the Musketeer said. “I haven’t even been inside, though I was invited. I have quite reasonable rooms of my own elsewhere in Paris.”

“So who are you?” the Commissary demanded.

“Captain-Lieutenant Athos of the Royal Musketeer fleet.” He smiled politely at her, and raised his wrist. “You can scan my ID if you like. I tried to suggest this when I was first brought into the cells, but for some reason all the guards were very keen to keep my presence here off the records.”

“That happened to me too,” said Madame Su thoughtfully.

“What an astounding coincidence,” said Athos of the Musketeers.

Early retirement, the Commissary decided. It was the only reasonable response to a farce like this. “You said your name was D’Artagnan,” she growled.

“Did I?” said Athos. “The guards who arrested me are all a bit new, I’m afraid. I was heading along to my friend’s new quarters, and suddenly I was surrounded, and one of them asked if I was D’Artagnan in a very fierce voice…” he held up his hands, as if helpless. “Well, I didn’t like to embarrass them by pointing out the obvious.”

“The obvious,” repeated the Commissary.

“I’m sure Madame Su here can help iron out the details of the obvious differences between myself and Mecha-Cadet D’Artagnan,” said Athos.

“I can think of a few,” said Madame Su, rolling her eyes.

The door of the interrogation room burst open, and a woman stood there in a bright pink flight suit that marked her as civilian. She had a long sweep of black hair, a nasty scar slashed across her face, and she looked like she was about to murder someone.

“Please return to the front desk immediately,” blustered the Commissary, getting to her feet. “You have no right!”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” said Athos, his eyes on the intruder as if she was the most dangerous thing in the room.

“My credentials,” snapped the woman, holding her wrist out to the Commissary, who scanned her stud with the clamshell on her desk. Special Agent Captain Rosnay Cho, Security Level 22, rattled across her screen.

Level 22 meant that the agent reported directly to the Cardinal herself. With visions of her early retirement disappearing into smoke, the Commissary stepped back with a polite nod of her head. “I cede these prisoners to you, of course, Special Agent Cho.”

“Only the woman,” said Cho. Her eyes flicked briefly over the Musketeer who called himself Athos. “This one can rot in your holding cells for as long as you like.” She held out one hand to the terrified Madame Su. “You are coming with me. A mutual friend has some very important questions to ask you about your husband.”

The journey that followed was the most terrifying time of Madame Su’s life. It was particularly fraught when Special Agent Cho discovered that the ship she had intended to use to transport them to Luna Palais was missing, along with her engineer, and that there were no security records of how this had happened.

After further delays and quite a lot of enraged shouting, they were eventually packed into a borrowed red and white Sabre dart, bound for the moon.

During the journey, Madame Su thought about every insulting thing she had ever said about the current Regent and especially her good-for-nothing husband the Prince Consort. Was this her fault? Had she been recorded somewhere, saying something she shouldn’t? It was a relief when the dart docked a good distance from the Palace, and she realised they were going somewhere else altogether: a private residence, which contained no angry members of the royal family.

Special Agent Cho let herself in through the front door, spoke briefly to a servant, and then dragged Madame Su along with her until they reached a botanical atrium at the centre of the residence.

The greenness and realness of the plants was something of a shock to Madame Su, who preferred her vegetation pre-packed in plastic pouches, with salad dressing.

Special Agent Cho pushed her way through several fronds of greenery, dragging her prisoner along with her, until they found a corner of the atrium which was occupied.

The woman was younger than Madame Su herself, perhaps forty years old, and greying at the temples. She wore a thick apron and gloves, her dark hair tied back in a bun as she concentrated on snipping stray flowers from a strong vine with a pair of vicious-looking secateurs.

“Hello, Rosnay,” she said, sounding quite serene. “How is it all going, then?”

“Mixed results,” said the agent through gritted teeth. “I brought you a present, Eminence.”

“So you have.” The woman looked Madame Su over, as if perusing fabrics in a warehouse. “I think we’re going to require tea, don’t you?”

“I’d rather find my missing Moth, actually,” Special Agent Cho said angrily. “You won’t believe what those cunning bastards have…”

“Tea,” said the gardener in a very firm voice, not to be denied. “And little sandwiches, with lots of butter. Our guest looks tired and hungry.”

Madame Su, who was not entirely stupid, and had guessed what the title “Eminence” meant, did her best not to burst into tears. This was not a random woman in a random house. This was Cardinal Richelieu.

Chances were very low that she was going to get out of this alive.

“Tea would be nice,” Madame Su said in a small voice.

“Jolly good,” said the Cardinal, snipping another dead-head from her vine. “Tea, sandwiches and a chat. Just what the medipatch ordered.”

It was the most awkward tea party in the history of the solar system. Madame Su did not dare say anything without being asked directly. Special Agent Cho still vibrated with fury over what had happened to her spaceship. The Cardinal was pleasant enough but remained on edge, and regularly received messages upon her clamshell in between sips of tea and bites of toast point.

The sandwiches were tiny and tasty, and the tea was excellent, but there is nothing like the fear of immediate execution to make even a splendid spread taste like dust on the tongue.

“Your husband, Madame Su,” said the Cardinal after a long moment. She still did not look like a grand religious leader, with only a small solar star hung at her throat to mark that she belonged to the Church of All. She wore black flight fatigues, as if she were a soldier rather than a priest. Her hair was now dressed with a constellation of pearl pins. “You are aware that he is a conspirator?”

Madame Su did not dare argue this point. “My Conrad always seemed such a good boy,” she whispered, clutching her teacup as if it might fly away into space at any moment. “But the Palace… I am sure there are temptations.”

“Indeed,” said the Cardinal. “Treason can be a terrible temptation, to one so young and vulnerable.”

“I knew nothing about any of this!” Madame Su burst out. “I only wanted my boy back safe, I didn’t -” She broke off, and buried her face in a biscuit, nibbling like a mouse.

A new message came in. The Cardinal read it, her eyes flicking across the words incredulously, and then she smiled. “Tell me then, Madame Su, of everything you know about your husband’s connection to his former teammate, Marie Chevreuse.”

Madame Su pressed her lips together in fear. That woman. That wretched athletic goddess with her winning smile and easy ways. If anyone had corrupted Conrad into his decadent ways, it was her. “I have not had sight of that bitch since she was exiled, and good riddance,” she spat.

The Cardinal did not say ‘indeed’ again this time, but she smiled a warm and reassuring smile. “You think she is a likely ringleader?”

“Trouble from head to toe, that one,” Madame Su grumbled.

Special Agent Cho received a message of her own on her comm stud, and leaped to her feet, asking the Cardinal for permission to take it outside. Her Eminence agreed with a graceful nod of her head.

Madame Su began to think that she was misplaced in her fear – the Cardinal seemed quite reasonable, really, and had made no move to accuse Madame Su of being complicit in her husband’s dealings.

“Why, I could tell you a story or two about that Chevreuse,” she volunteered bravely.

A light sparkled in the Cardinal’s eyes. “Oh, please do.”

It was as if a dam had burst inside her. Madame Su barely paused for breath as she rattled out all of the disreputable, flirtatious behaviour she had witnessed in that cow Chevreuse over the last few years. She only paused when Cho returned, interrupting without any manners at all.

“Your Eminence,” she gasped. “It’s done.”

Instantly, the Cardinal’s face changed, from the politely encouraging lady to a sharp, incisive politician. She turned to Cho, as if she had forgotten Madame Su was even there. “The Colin Guillaume?”

“En route to Valour, with enough time missing from their flight log to account for the unidentified ship that docked briefly at the mecha graveyard.”

The Cardinal shone from within like a diamond. “Evidence?” she purred.

“On board, with the Ambassador.” Cho smiled with all her teeth. “Milord will secure it for himself when they touch down on Valour.”

“You will excuse me, Madame Su,” said the Cardinal, sweeping to her feet. “Other matters to attend to, and my breakfast meeting with the Regent has suddenly taken on more than its usual importance. You may return to Paris Satellite.”

Madame Su blinked, surprised at the sudden release. “I may?”

“I hardly wish to detain you.”

“But -”

“Your husband, I have been informed, escaped his abduction some time today, and has since returned to his bed at the Palace. I am sure he will be in contact with you tomorrow. But it is late, of course.”

Madame Su’s head was spinning. She stood, and found herself guided to the door by polite servants as if she were the visitor who had chosen such an unwelcome time to be paying calls. “But,” she said again, before she found herself standing alone on the automatic pavement in front of the residence. It hummed beneath her feet, drawing along the avenue of one of the wealthiest areas on Luna Palais.

“Oh, Conrad,” she muttered disapprovingly beneath her breath. “What have you got us into now?”

Her credit stud chimed discreetly, informing her that she had just received a substantial payment from the Cardinal’s office, ‘in compensation for your inconvenience, and for the rendering of future intelligence.’

So, then. At some point during the night, Madame Su had been turned into the Cardinal’s spy.

You have been reading Musketeer Space, by Tansy Rayner Roberts. Tune in next week for another chapter! Please comment, share and link. Musketeer Space is free to read, but if you’d like to support the project for as little as $1 per month, please visit my Patreon page. Pledges can earn rewards such as ebooks, extra content, dedications and the naming of spaceships. Milestones already unlocked include the Musketeer Media Monday posts, the Robotech Rewatch posts, and a special Yuletide prequel story to be released in December. My next funding milestone ($300 a month) will unlock COVER ART.

ROBOTECH REWATCH 13: Can’t I Smoke Anywhere?

Robotech will be rewatched after these messages.

It’s all getting a bit political.

Episode 15. Homecoming

The SDF1 is home! But it’s not going to be that easy. While the population of the ship party like it’s 1999, Lisa and Captain Gloval fly to Antarctica Base to talk to the government about resettling the civilians.

The spies practice their party skills, which mostly consists of yelling Hurrah and drinking. They’re fitting in just fine.

Claudia gets off duty and goes to call on her fiancé Roy – FIANCE? Where did that even come from? Last I saw he was still making smutty comments about how he could take Minmei off Rick’s hands. And while there has been some definite flirting-dating action between these two, mostly only hinted at in between larger plot developments, apparently there has been some serious progression.

Then again, it’s been two years, and we missed quite a lot thanks to time dilation and alien abductions.

Just as I’m recovering from this news, I spot another boob shot that I don’t recall screening on kids TV back in the day – a pinup on Roy’s wall. Classy.

Rick gets another brush with Minmei’s celebrity when he’s given the job of escorting her on a quick flight to visit her family in Yokohama – she’s the only member of the ship allowed this privilege because she’s so famous and important.

Despite them both joking that this feels like a date, Minmei mostly talks about herself – her exciting life as a one woman entertainment machine. There’s even going to be a movie soon (I am actually genuinely a bit excited about the movie) but before she can tell Rick more, she falls asleep. So much for their romantic getaway!

As Lisa and Captain Gloval travel into the base via the Main Shaft (which is a Grand Cannon as well as a lift – seems like an odd use of resources), they prepare for their meeting, and he makes her laugh by telling her stories about her father who is very busy and important in the military. Sadly once Lisa gives her comprehensive report, the top TOP brass refuse to accept her information about the strength of the aliens – they simply can’t believe that she is telling the truth. They don’t laugh at her like the slightly less top brass from the SDF1, but neither are they remotely receptive to what she has to say. They also avoid answering the question about what is to be done with the thousands of citizens of Macross City.

Minmei is giddy about being home, and gives Rick a tour of Yokohama, finishing up in Chinatown where her family lives. It doesn’t occur to her until she arrives that her whole family has thought she was dead for two whole years. Once they recover from their shock, they hit the roof at her when she attempts to leave again so soon after arriving. Her inability to explain much about where she has been, and her need to return to the ship (to please her fans, not to mention the government), makes no sense to them.

Which basically means MInmei ends up stamping her feet at them and shrieking ‘I wanna be a movie star’ as opposed to ‘actually we’re at war and it’s a military secret’ which would be, hopefully, a little more convincing.

The fight ends quickly when Minmei’s cousin Kyle comes down. He is amazed to discover that not only Minmei but his parents are alive and well. Minmei doesn’t have any problem with spilling state secrets by talking happily about Macross City and its survivors, while Kyle seems more interested in point-scoring off Rick because he’s militantly anti-military. And basically an asshole.

Kyle is the guy who gives pacifists, vegetarians and all lefties a bad name, because he’s so appallingly pious and hypocritical at every turn. He’s totally that guy. We hate that guy.

Lisa and Gloval are shocked and furious that the top brass (including Lisa’s own father) are stonewalling them – they want the SDF1 to keep on distracting the aliens along with their tempting shipful of pretty shiny civilians, and gather more intel (which the Earth government will also, presumably, ignore) while they work on building up the Earth’s own defences.

It takes a while to load the Grand Cannon, okay?

Kyle becomes Minmei’s champion, deciding to return temporarily with her to the SDF1 to see his family and keep an eye on her, putting her own parents’ minds at least slightly at ease. Rick spends the flight back fuming as Kyle and Minmei drape themselves all over each other and flirt with disturbing intimacy. EW COUSINS.

Stunned and quiet, Lisa and Gloval return to the ship, not knowing how to break it to their people that they have to take off into space again. Lisa’s father sends her a letter promising to get her a transfer off the alien death ship, but she tears it to pieces in her fury. She would never leave the SDF1 under these circumstances – not by choice, anyway.

This weekly rewatch of classic animated space opera Robotech is brought to you as bonus content for the Musketeer Space project. Thanks to everyone who has linked, commented, and especially to my paid patrons. You can support Musketeer Space at Patreon.

Friday Links is So Jet Lag. Much Napping.

I’m home, but keep regularly (or irregularly) crashing to the ground like a redwood in an endangered forest.

Some things I’ve read in the last day or so, since I’m apparently not good for much except staring blankly at a computer, napping, and cuddling my much-missed daughters:

The full masterlist of links is up on SF Signal for the Australian Spec Fic Snapshot – 189 participants this year! That’s amazing. Katharine interviews me here.

Also at SF Signal: the Hugo winners.

Aliette De Bodard on a subject very dear to my heart: writing novels with a baby.

Big Blue YA News reviews Kaleidoscope.

The lovely and charming John Chu – So I Won a Hugo.

Jamie Rubin: To All The Hugo Award Winners, Thank You, You Saved Science Fiction For Me.

A Loncon3 con report by Ana at Things Mean A Lot – plenty of pics here, including a review of a panel (about writing reviews) featuring me and Alisa!

Renay at Ladybusiness has some really interesting thoughts on Kameron Hurley’s iconic and now Hugo-winning Essay: We Have Always Fought.

Kameron herself on Writing, Editing, Inclusivity: We’re All In This Together.