Chapter 7

David clung tenuously to his perch against the wall and considered praying for a miracle when the radio in his helmet sputtered to life and a female voice announced, "All systems attention! All systems attention! Commence maneuvering for firing of main gun!" <What's that supposed to mean?> David wondered. "Transformation to begin in three minutes!" <Transformation? What transformation? What the hell's going on here?> He had studied the transformational capabilities of the veritech fighters, but he doubted that that was what the announcer had been speaking of. David looked around the room - the command staff was exchanging glances. <Looks like they don't know, either. Figures.> 

David turned his gaze back to the viewport. The battle outside the fortress had intensified beyond anything David would have been able to imagine. Pods and fighters and Veritechs and such, all chasing and dodging and fighting and dying before his eyes. He watched it all, absorbing tactics and methods as best he could from his rather limited field of view. He noticed how the enemy pods seemed to be a lot more maneuverable out in space. How those Veritechs that were flown as if they were still in atmosphere were at a severe disadvantage. 

David tried to imagine what it would be like to actually fly combat in zero-gee. The simulators that the trainees trained on were excellent, but there was nothing to prepare one for the feel of actually being out there, in the heat of battle. Almost idly, he thought about Lieutenant Landers - one of his instructors. Actually, she was his favorite instructor, mostly because she had a way of explaining things that made sense. No by-the-book mumbo-jumbo, just straightforward tactics and explainations. It was well known that she spent a lot of time in the simulators, but most assumed that this was so that she could explain the shortcomings of the simulator units as compared to actually combat. He wondered if she was out there, fighting. He thought back a few days, when he had run into her - literally. 

He had been waiting for one of the simulators that day. It was his class's lunch time, so there weren't many people around. He was surprised to find that the simulator he had gone to was in use. He was tempted to go to another one, but instead decided to stay and watch, to see if there was anything he could learn. Whoever was in there, they were good. Handled a guardian-mode Veritech like a pro. David watched a while, watching some of the maneuvers being pulled by the pilot. He saw the pilot blast two pods, but another was coming from behind - and the pilot in the simulator didn't see it in time. Missiles impacted, and the simulated Veritech crashed into the simulated hull of the SDF-1, exploding. 

<Game over.> David mused, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone else was waiting for the simulator. Without warning, someone landed on him from above, almost knocking him to his knees. He regained his balance and glanced up at his attacker, a nasty retort on his lips. His angry comment died almost immediately as he realized that Lieutenant Landers had been in the simulator, and had landed on him when she jumped out. 

She was busy apologizing, the words spilling out in a rush. "I am SOOO sorry. I didn't see you there, besides you shouldn't.... Hey! You're..." 

He straightened immediately and saluted. "David Marshall, ma'am. I'm in your class." He noticed that she was studying him intently. It had always been his experience that military instructors NEVER studied someone intently unless they were looking for something to yell about. He spared a glance down at his dishevelled uniform and moaned silently. <Nothing like a sloppy appearance to piss of an instructor. And I even ironed this damned thing this morning!> He shot a quick glance at the Lieutenant before returning his eyes to a face-forward position. <And why the hell does she have to be so good looking?> He noticed that he was unconsciously shifting his weight from foot to foot, and willed himself to stop. 

The Lieutenant stood up straighter and said, "Right. Marshall. Well, it looks like you're in a hurry to use this machine, so I'll get out of your way. But I'll want to speak with you later. I'll get in touch with you when I have a spare moment." She waved as she stepped past him. "See ya!" 

He stared after her as she left the room, puzzled. <What the hell was all that about?> 

David shook himself out of his reverie and sighed. It wasn't good be be thinking about such things, not now. Unless something was done, and quickly, they'd all be killed and he wouldn't have to worry about what Lieutenant Landers had wanted to speak to him about. He abruptly became aware of a deep vibration in the floor. As a matter of fact, the whole room seemed to be vibrating - a deep, throbbing pulsation that unnerved him more than the impact tremors had.<Now what?> David wondered, glancing out the viewport. <What in the world?> 

The starfield was moving. The battle was moving. Everything was moving, slowly, inexorably right to left across his field of view. <What the hell is this?> He suddenly realized that the stars themselves couldn't be moving, so his point of view must be changing. As he realized this, the main guns of the SDF-1 came into view, far to the right. David suddenly realized what the "transformation" was. <Holy cow! The whole ship is transforming!> 

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The bow of the SDF-1 was now fully visible, and it was... changing. The booms that made up the main gun had moved into their firing positions, and the central hull was rotating downwards. Somehow, in some way, the SDF-1 itself was transforming like some gigantic Veritech. Into what, he could only guess. He felt tremors and jolts race through him as the Prometheus played it's part in whatever was going on. The radio net was a chaotic jumble of shouted orders and curses, with several barely audible prayers mixed in. David briefly considered adding a prayer of his own, but changed his mind. <God'll be busy enough with everyone else for a while.> 

The Prometheus came to a sudden, unexpected stop, throwing David and several other people into the bulkhead. David rolled onto his back and cursed silently for a moment. <We've stopped moving!> he realized. <Now what's gonna happen?> 

Almost as if in answer to his unspoken question, a flickering orange glow flooded the room through the exterior viewport. David shielded his eyes and peered out the port, but the source of the glow was beyond his range of vision, being located high above the Prometheus. <I hope that that's not a new alien weap- AAACK!> 

The orange glow flared brilliantly for several seconds, and David stumbled backwards, away from the viewport, his arms thrown across the face plate of his helmet. Multi-colored flashes of light and shadow played across his eyelids, and David heard shouts of surprise and pain come across the radio. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the blinding light faded, leaving purplish after-images dancing before David's aching eyes. <What the hell just happened?> he wondered. <Did we all just get sent to Heaven or something?> 

His helmet radio crackled, and a female voice broke through the chaotic babble. "Attention all hands. Attention all hands. Assume stand-by alert status. All sections contact bridge with damage and casualty reports as soon as possible. That is all." David sat up and looked around. People were cheering and hugging each other. <Well, what do you know? We won.> 

David left the carrier's bridge and began walking back towards the trainee's barracks, contemplating all that occurred in the last...<What? A half hour? An hour?> He shook his head and laughed. <I'm gonna have to get me a watch.> His stomach rumbled, and David decided that he had enough time to catch a quick bite to eat before returning to the barracks. He stopped by a row of lockers and stripped of his EVA suit. He sighed as he inspected his uniform - wrinkled and creased. <As usual. I just can't win.> 

His stomach rumbled again. "Hell with it. I'll eat first, then get a clean uniform." 

Calm had finally returned to the bridge of the SDF-1. All stations had reported in, damage reports had been taken, and repair teams had been dispatched. Macross City had been all but destroyed (again), and numerous civilians were missing. Still, the ship had survived, and that was something to be thankful for. Ensign Vanessa Leeds stretched her stiff muscles. "I'm going to head down to the cafeteria and get some coffee. Anyone else want some?" The vote was a unanimous "YES!" 

David sat alone in a corner of the cafeteria, hurriedly forking chunks of sliced carrot into his mouth. Technically, the main cafeteria was off-limits to pilot trainees, but the cafeteria in the Prometheus was packed with pilots and launch crews, so he had opted for the less-crowded main cafeteria aboard the SDF-1 proper. Several groups of people were scattered around the room, mostly pilots recently returned from the battle against the aliens. Some were silent and contemplative, like himself, but most were boisterous and noisy, enjoying the fact that they had survived. He listened to their boasting and sighed. Soon he would be one of them - a fighter pilot. 

He wondered idly what his first - well, second - combat mission would be like. His gaze settled on a young woman who was standing in the serving line, a tray holding a half-dozen or so coffee cups emblazoned with the RDF logo in her hands. She stood roughly five and a half feet tall, with light, honey-brown hair that didn't quite reach her shoulders, and large-rimmed glasses. David guessed that she was no more than 22 years old. She was wearing a blue-colored duty uniform and skirt, and David couldn't resist taking a long look at her legs. <Looks like a nice girl.> he thought, gazing at her for a few moments before turning away. <I wonder... Ah!, what would a nice girl want with a guy like me anyway?> 

David returned his gaze to his plate, trying to figure out if the "meat patty" was real or some soybean-derived substitution. "Ah, what the hell." he murmured to himself, stabbing the patty with a fork, "You only live once." He was chewing happily away when he noticed that the hum of conversation around him had gone virtually silent. He looked around and saw that most of the men in the room were staring at a tall, dark-haired woman in an RDF pilot's uniform, who was standing in the serving line with her back to him. He couldn't help but notice how well her uniform fit her figure. Apparently several others noticed too, as several wolf whistles broke the silence. He was half tempted to whistle as well. He shook his head slightly and smiled. <God, I'm becoming a lecher. A perverted pilot out near Pluto.> He laughed, amused at himself. Then the woman turned around, and David gasped. <Oh my God! Christina!> 

The resemblance was uncanny. David had seen Christina's face in his dreams several times since that fateful day back on Macross Island, when he had found her dead at the controls of her Veritech. The page-boy cut of her black hair. The curves and lines of her face. The shape of her mouth. Those details, that he had seen over and over again, now faced him - attached to a woman who was obviously alive and well. David sat his fork down and rose from his seat. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, but he found himself walking tentatively towards the woman who could not be Christina, but looked so much like her that there was no other explanation. 

He got to within ten feet of her before she noticed him and turned his way, balancing two trays heaped with food in her hands. David dropped his gaze guiltily, then slowly brought his eyes up and looked into her face. She was regarding him with a child-like curiousity. He had half-expected an icy glare or something, seeing as how she was drawing so much unwanted attention from the other pilots, but there was nothing but curiousity in her gaze. Caught off-guard, David hesitantly opened his mouth to say something, realized that he didn't know what to say, then closed his mouth and sighed. <Okay, now what, Romeo? You're out in the open with no place to hide.> 

The woman who looked so much like Christina regarded him for a few moments more before turning around and heading for the door. David took a deep breath and blew it out his nose, watching her as she left. <Smooth, real smooth. Idiot.> He spun around, angry at himself for his indecision, and stomped back towards his forgotten meal. He hadn't gone three steps when there was a loud crash of breaking glass behind him. He spun around and saw that the brown-haired woman had dropped her tray and was facing the Christina look-alike. David was too far away to hear what was said, but the brown-haired woman started crying and screamed "You're lying! Why are you lying to me!? WHY?" before collapsing to the deck, sobbing. The Christina look-alike glanced down at the sobbing woman, her expression unreadable, then hurried out of the room. 

David acted without thinking, rushing over to the sobbing woman and kneeling beside her. Her shoulders were quaking violently, and her sobs seemed to be torn from deep within. He hesitated a moment before touching her shoulder tentatively. "Ma'am? Are you-" <What? Are you all right? Of course she's not all right, idiot!> "Ah, can I do anything to help?" 

The woman sniffed several times before replying, not lifting her face to look at him. "I don't think so." 

"Well, you're lying in a pool of hot coffee and broken glass." he pointed out, "At least let me help you up." 

She slowly sat up, glanced at him with beautiful blue eyes, and then looked down at her uniform, which was now spattered with coffee and glass. Tears had streaked her face, and she sniffed again, removing her glasses and wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. 

David blinked, then fumbled through his pockets, coming up with a wrinkled (but clean) handkerchief. He handed it to her and she dabbed at her eyes with it. "Thank you." she spoke softly, putting her glasses back on. 

David smiled. "No problem." He stood up and offered her his hand. "Need a lift?" 

She grasped his extended hand and pulled herself to her feet, shedding shards of broken coffee cup. She sighed and shook her head. "Look at me... I'm a mess. I can't go back to the bridge like this." 

<The bridge?> David thought, shocked. <Damn.>"Well, you can always change clothes." David offered. <Oh brother, as if she didn't know that. Damned idiot!> 

"I guess so." she replied, her voice wavering. David saw that tears were welling up in her eyes again. 

"Hey, what's wrong?" 

She blew her nose into the handkerchief before replying. "It's nothing. Honest." 

"Oh, yeah?" he replied, pointing to the handkerchief. "That soggy hanky tells a different story." 

She paled noticeably. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to get it all-" 

He silenced her with a wave of his hand. "It's all right. I've got spares back in the barracks." He hesitated a moment. "Uh, what was up with that woman, if you wouldn't mind telling me?" 

She blinked and looked down the corridor the Christina look-alike had vanished down. "She reminded me of my sister, but that's impossible. My sister died back in Macross." The tears reappeared in her red-rimmed eyes, and she dabbed at them with the handkerchief. "I must have been mistaken." David nodded slowly, not sure what to say next. She touched his hand lightly. "I've got to get cleaned up and get back to the bridge. Thanks, mister...?" 

David smiled. "Any time. My names David. David Marshall." 

Her eyes widened, and she peered at him intently. He had the sudden urge to run away, but fought it down. After a moment more, she dropped her gaze. "Thanks, David. I'm Vanessa." She smiled half-heartedly. "Maybe I'll see you around sometime?" 

"You bet." David replied. "It's not like I'm gonna get too far." He motioned to the large window that dominated one wall of the cafeteria, showing the vastness of space beyond. "It's a long walk to anyplace else I'd rather be." 

"Well then, until later." She turned and walked out of the room, David staring after her. <Later....well, I can always hope.> He turned and went back for the rest of his meal. He was just about to sit down when a thought struck him. <Wait a minute. Sister? Back in Macross?> He sat down with a thump. <I wonder....> 

He spotted a services worker and motioned him over. "Yes, sir?" 

"Do you know that woman who dumped the tray over there?" David inquired. 

"Ensign Leeds, you mean? Yes, sir." 

<Leeds.> David sighed. <I'll be damned.> "Do you know where she was taking that tray?" 

"The bridge, I'd wager. The bridge crew guzzles the stuff." 

"How much would it cost to get a new tray taken up to them, seeing as how the first one got trashed?" 

The worker looked around. "I don't know, sir. It's against the rules to leave the area..." 

David dug several bills out of his pocket and laid them on the table. "Enough?" 

The worker picked up the bills. "Enough." 

David leaned back in his seat. <Ensign Leeds, eh? Figures, she's cute, and she outranks me. Just my luck.> He glanced around, then climbed to his feet, his appetite all but gone. <Welp, I'd better get back to the barracks.> 

Forward to Chapter 8. 
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