Chapter 10

David stepped into the office and closed the door behind him. He turned and looked around the room, but the Lieutenant was nowhere to be seen. <Where'd she go? I know she's in here someplace.> Then she called out from the back room, "I'll be just a second!" David sighed and walked over to the desk. He heard some rustling sounds coming from the back room, but decided not to ask any questions. He glanced down at the desk, which was piled with personnel files and various stacks of paperwork, all cluttered around a computer terminal. There was also a photograph, crinkled and dog-eared, sitting by the terminal. Feeling a little guilty at prying, he reached out and turned to photo around so he could get a better look. 

<Oh, shit.> David thought, recognizing the photo instantly. It was the photo of Christina Leeds and her parents, taken on the day of her graduation from the RDF academy. The photo he had placed in the pocket of her flight suit back on Macross Island. The day she had died. An image of the look-a-like in the cafeteria flashed through his mind's eye, and he suppressed a shudder. <Why does Lieutenant Landers have this?> David wondered. <Is this what she wanted to see me about?> 

The Lieutenant entered the room just then, having changed out of her uniform. She was wearing blue jeans and a red tee-shirt, the latter bearing the slogan of some rock'n'roll band he didn't immediately recognize. Over top of this she was wearing a well-worn leather flight jacket. She was holding a scarf in her hands, and David realized that she looked pretty good, if a bit tired-looking around the eyes. He felt his cheeks burn, and returned his gaze to the photograph. 

The Lieutenant walked over to the desk and saw what he was looking at. "She's in my squadron. Beta Wing." 

David looked up at her, confused. <Is? She must've meant was.> "She was in your squadron? My condolences, sir." <Must be hard to accept the death of your underlings. Hope I never have to.> 

"Was?" the Lieutenant asked. "I mean she is in my squadron." 

David's eyebrows shot upwards. <I can't be hearing this right.> "But, sir, Christina Leeds died in the battle at Macross." he explained. "How can she be in your squadron?" <She really must've taken her death hard.> 

Now it was the Lieutenant's turn to look confused. She hesitated a moment before saying, "No...that's Izabelle Fate. She was here two hours ago." 

David looked at the Lieutenant, who was looking back at him, her face mirroring his confusion, and then he looked back at the photograph. <What the hell is going on here?> 

The Lieutenant, still looking at him, said slowly, "You're saying that this is a picture of Christina Leeds, the pilot from the Veritech you acquired on Macross Island?" She picked up the photograph and turned it over, so that she could see the writing there. She whispered, "Christina..." 

David thought for a moment before answering. "Yes, Sir. I found this photograph in the cockpit that day." He remembered it like it was yesterday. "I put it into a pocket on her flight suit before I..." <What? Wiped out? Cracked up? Nearly bit the big one?> "'Landed' on the SDF-1." 

Lieutenant Landers looked at him. "That's strange, because this picture looks exactly like one of the officers in my squadron. Could you tell me what Christina looked like when you found her?" 

David grimaced slightly as he recalled the incident. He described her hair, her eyes, the shape of her face, the set of her mouth, the shape of her body. He pointed to several dried smears of blood on the photograph and said, "This is her blood... I don't mean to be crude about this, Sir, but she was definitely dead." He took a breath, getting a bit nauseous as he recalled the more intricate details. "The shrapnel cut through her like a scythe. Nobody could survive that kind of..." He paused, thinking. <Izabelle Fate? Izabelle...I know that name. But from where? From where....of course!> 

"What's up, Marshall?" the Lieutenant asked. 

David collected his thoughts before answering. "I was just thinking, Sir, about a woman I saw in the cafeteria yesterday." <Was it yesterday? Where does the time go?> "She looked almost exactly like Christina, especially in the flight suit she was wearing." He shuddered at the memory. <This is getting a bit spooky.> 

Lieutenant Landers thought for a moment. "What was she buying? Did you see?" she asked, her tone changing somewhat. David looked at her. 

<'What was she buying?' Why does that matter?> "Ah, I'm not sure. I do remember one of the workers objected to a strange request, but changed his tone when she flashed an I.D... something about dietary supplements for a co-worker." David shrugged. 

The Lieutenant nodded. "Yes. That was Izabelle you saw. I heard she was accosted by another woman while she was there. Do you know about that?" 

David paused, remembering Vanessa Leeds and the forgotten coffee, and a smile played at the corners of his mouth, but he managed to keep it hidden, he hoped. "Yes Sir. The other woman was Vanessa Leeds, Christina's sister. Vanessa saw her and mistook her for Christina and became quite upset when she denied it." 

"That's almost exactly what I heard. Have you heard anything else about her? About Christina or Izabelle?" the Lieutenant asked, obviously thinking about something. 

David racked his brain for whatever he could remember of those first days aboard the SDF-1. "Well, let me see..." He paused, recalling something one of the nurses had said. "I know that Christina's body was identified in the temporary clinic, but that's about it." 

"Right," she said, her eyes slightly glazed. Then they cleared and she shot him a smile. "Well, that's enough on that subject, I guess. Now I want to get down to what I originally asked you here for." 

"I thought we had already covered that, sir?" David asked, confused. <What else does she want to ask me?> 

"No, not yet," she said, obviously trying to figure out how to say what she was thinking. David felt himself tensing up slightly. "David, before you found Christina's Veritech, you were running around the city unprotected, right?" 

David recalled the battle and shrugged. "Well, sort of, sir." <Helluva time to ask me, that was months ago. Even had to write up a report on it.> 

"I don't quite know how to say this without bragging, David... Do you think my voice sounds familiar? Had you heard it sometime before I started teaching your class?" the Lieutenant said, looking at him expectantly. <Before? What's she talking about?> "Uh, I don't know, sir." 

"Well, you do remember a skirmish that took place between a few battle pods and a veritech firing over your head, right? And do you remember the missile volley that almost killed the both of us?" she asked. 

<Both of us?> David wondered, then realization struck. <Oh my God! The pilot that carried me to safety!> He fought to keep his expression neutral while the Lieutenant continued. "I picked you up off the street while you were unconscious from the explosion and tried to bring you to the SDF-1, but I was attacked by an officer's pod and had to put you down. You were conscious by then, and ran off for cover, I suppose. After that, I didn't see you again until much later, when I started my class. Do you remember?" 

<How could I forget?> he asked himself, then said, "Yes. I remember. That was you, sir?" She nodded and David found himself stuck speechless, stuttering rapidly as he tried to speak. <Calm down, you idiot!> "I don't quite know what to say, sir... Thank you. I certainly hope to return the favor some day." 

She smiled a twisted smile and said, "Let's hope you never have to, Marshall. Let's hope you never have to. Well! That's taken care of. What do you say we go grab a bite to eat, eh?" 

David's surprise was evident. "Well, I don't know. Aren't there rules against fraternization, sir?" 

"Who's gonna notice?" she asked, smiling. "I'm not in uniform, and I'm not especially well known around here..." she paused, then added with a grin, "Yet." 

<Oh, great.> David thought, looking at her. <Wouldn't be so bad if she weren't so damned good looking! And my Commanding Officer, to boot! Damn my luck!> "I guess it would be all right, then." He glanced down as his dishevelled uniform and felt a blush coming to his face. <Damn.>. "Do you mind if _I_ change out of my uniform, Sir? I'd like to clean up a bit first." 

She gave him a broad, innocent-looking grin and nodded. "Of course. I'll even walk you back to the barracks." 

"Why would you walk me to the barracks, sir?" David asked. "I'm in the berthing area right around the corner." 

"What do you mean? I got rooms in the barracks for you and the other ranking personnel. You're supposed to be in room 112B... Didn't Sergeant Malone show you?" The Lieutenant asked slowly. 

David could see the anger flaring up in her eyes. <Uh oh. Walk softly here, David.> "No Sir. He told us we were bunking in the berthing area. He mentioned _his_ room in the barracks, though. Said it was a privilege of rank." David could tell that she was getting really pissed, her eyes flashing. 

"Where is the Sergeant now? I want to _talk_ to him." 

<Oh boy, is she steamed. Look out, Sergeant Malone.> Then he thought a moment. <He probably has it coming, the asshole.> "He said he had some errands to run. He left us on the hangar deck with an obnoxious technician. I haven't seen him since then." 

"I know where he is," she said, David all but seeing the steam coming off of her. "And I know where he's going to be spending the rest of the month, too." She turned her gaze towards David and snapped, "Go find your wingman, Marshall. Let him know about this and take your stuff to the barracks. Get set up and enjoy yourselves, but report back to the ready room tomorrow morning, 0800 hours. We're on patrol tomorrow, so make sure you're rested. Dismissed." 

David almost threw her a salute, but she wasn't in uniform, and she was pissed, so he decided that discretion was the better part of valor and beat a hasty retreat out of the office. <Oh man, someone's in deep shit.> David thought, heading for the berthing area. <I'm glad it's not me this time.> 

[] 

David sat alone on a bench in Macross City's central park, staring silently into the majestic fountain that stood there. He was dressed in his RDF duty uniform, as usual, and a technical manual detailing the workings of the GU-11 gun pod sat beside him. There were lots of people scattered around the park, mostly civilian workers spending their lunch breaks admiring the scenery. David ignored them, lost in his own thoughts. 

David recalled once again the conversation he had had with Lieutenant Landers that first day. About Christina Leeds, and the woman who seemed to look so much like her, Izabelle Fate. David was still in a quandary over what the whole thing meant, unsure as to whether he could even believe his own eyes, or ears. He sighed. It seemed so long ago, that conversation. It had been several weeks since his assignment to the NightHawks, or more officially, Black Squadron, and his entire view of the universe, and his place in it, had changed dramatically in that time. Of course, being placed in a position where the lives of seventy thousand non-combatants might depend upon his actions in combat tended to have that effect on a person. 

At least he had nice quarters now, even if he had to share them with Tony. At least Tony didn't snore. He wondered how he would do in his first official battle. He thought back to the Battle for Macross Island, as it was being called, and wondered for the thousandth time what had possessed him. Still, he knew a lot more about how to operate a Veritech now, and his flying skill was excellent. His marksmanship skills were somewhat lacking, however. He was good at hitting stationary targets, but moving targets were another matter altogether. He practiced hard at the gunnery range, and he was showing signs of improvement, but his progress was slow, and he was irritated by his inability to master such an important skill. Tony tried his best to help, something David appreciated very much, but he had a feelling that this was something he'd have to solve on his own. 

David thoughts turned to the other members of his squad. Sergeant Jack Malone was a hopeless case. Cold and distant, he seemed to get more and more irritating and abusive as time went by. At twenty-six years of age, he was the oldest and most skilled of Gamma Squad - indeed, one of the most skilled in the entire squadron for that matter. David suspected that Gamma Squad's leader was a bit on the psychotic side, however, and sometimes took unnecessary risks for no apparent reason. The root of the problem seemed to revolve around Lieutenant Landers, who was trying very hard to be patient with him. David fervently hoped that, when the next battle came, the Sergeant would spend his energy fighting the enemy, and not the squadron's commanding officer. 

Corporal Martuchi was another matter, David thought, a smile coming to his face as he thought about the awkward young man. Tall and gangly, not quite eighteen years old, Tony Martuchi spent nearly all of his free time down in the hangar bays, pestering the support crews with a constant barrage of questions about the workings of Veritech fighters. David knew that this was as much Tony's way of staying away from Sergeant Malone - whom he detested with a passion - as much as it was to satisfy his own curiosity about the Robotech fighters. Tony had a knack for the fundamentals of flying Veritechs, and David saw real potential in him. He needed more practice, however, if he was to achieve his full capability. Tony's marksmanship, however, was second to none. David himself had received numerous pointers, for all the good it did him. 

A shout brought David out of his reverie, and he looked up to see Tony running towards him. <Well, speak of the devil.> "Hey, Tony! What's up?" 

Tony skidded to a stop in front of him. In between gasps for air, he said "They just called a briefing for all the squadrons. We're supposed to meet in front of the barracks compound at fourteen hundred hours. Which is in," he glanced at his watch, "forty-five minutes." 

David's thoughts raced. If they were calling a briefing for all the squadrons on such short notice, something was up. He ignored the queasy feeling that had suddenly appeared in his gut and smiled up at the gasping Corporal. "Thanks for the info." He patted the book beside him. "I'm gonna read up for a little while more, and then I'll meet you there. Okay?" 

Tony nodded. "No problem. I'm going to run down to the hangar deck and check up on Old Yeller. See ya!" He turned and ran back the way he came. David chuckled to himself. Tony had nick-named his Valkyrie "Old Yeller", partly because it's detailing (and his uniform) were lemon yellow, and partly because of his fondness for the classic movie. David himself hadn't come up with a name for his mecha, more because he hadn't hit upon the right one yet than anything else. What would you nickname a green-tinted Veritech? "The Flying Bean?" 

David leaned back on the bench and closed his eyes. He had no idea how long he sat like that before a female voice spoke from behind him, startling him. He realized that he had dozed off. <Oh no, I'm late!> he thought, then noticed several other pilots walking around casually. <Then again, maybe not. Thank God!> He turned and saw Vanessa Leeds standing there, with two other attractive young ladies he didn't know. All were smiling at him, and he began to stand up. 

Vanessa motioned him back down. "Don't get all chivalrous on us, mister Marshall. We're casual here." She was wearing a red shirt, with gray slacks and a brown jacket. A gold locket hung on a chain around her neck. All in all, a breathtaking sight. David hesitated a moment,tehn adopted a bad British accent and said "Chivalry is not dead.", rising to his feet. "Been a while. How you doing?" He fixed her with a neutral gaze, trying hard not to stare. 

"Fine." she replied, returning his look. "Thanks for that coffee, by the way." 

David smiled. "Any time." 

One of Vanessa's companions - the black-haired one - cleared her throat. Vanessa jumped. "Oh! Where are my manners. This is Kim Young." she said as she pointed to the black-haired woman. "Kim, this is David Marshall." 

David looked her over quickly. She stood roughly five and a half feet tall or so, with short black hair in a pixie cut and large hazel colored eyes. She was dressed in a long-sleeve white shirt, blue vest, and black shorts. He fought hard not to stare at her legs. David extended his hand and she took it immediately, with a surprisingly strong grip. "Pleased to meet you." 

"Likewise." Kim said, a sly smile spreading on her face. "You don't hang around lingerie shops, do you?" 

David's eyebrows shot up. <Whaaaat?> "Ah...no. Why?" 

"Never mind." Vanessa said quickly, elbowing Kim in the ribs. She then placed a hand on the shoulder of the smallest woman of the trio. "This is Sammy Porter." Sammy was a not much more than five feel tall, with long orangish hair that hung down past her shoulders, and large blue-green eyes. David guessed she wasn't much more than eighteen or nineteen at most. She was wearing a pink shirt with a white vest and dress. She took David's extended hand tentatively, and David felt the kindred spirit of a basically shy person in her grip. 

"It's a pleasure." David said with a large smile. She smiled shyly back at him. "You sure you don't hang around lingerie shops?" she asked sweetly. 

David put his hands on his hips and did his best to look hurt. "What is this with lingerie? Do I look that feminine or something?" he asked, not sure whether or not to be offended. <God, they think I'm a cross dresser or something.> 

Vanessa laughed and laid a hand on his arm. "No! No, it's not that! It's been a running joke all day today." She smiled at him as she withdrew her hand. "They ran into a pilot in a lingerie shop earlier." she said, indicating Kim and Sammy, who were both grinning broadly. "It's a long story, really." 

"Well, if that's all it is." David said. 

"It is, honest." She replied. "By the way, have they told you about the squadron briefing today?" 

"Sure have. Which reminds me, what time is it?" <Gotta get me a watch one of these days.> 

Sammy looked at her watch. "It's thirteen thirty five." 

"Thanks." He replied. "Well, I don't want to seem rude or anything, but I've gotta get my butt over to the barracks." He reached down and picked up the technical manual. "Maybe we can get together later?" 

Vanessa shot a glance at the snickering Kim and Sammy as she answered. "Well, we've got to be back at the barracks by twenty-two hundred. Maybe after your meeting? Should be enough time." 

David thought a moment. "Nuts. No can do. I have a class until twenty one thirty. Advanced avionics." 

"Sounds like fun." Kim volunteered. 

"Ooooh yeah, loads." David replied with a smile. "Still, it keeps me out of trouble, I guess." 

"There's always next time, David." Vanessa smiled and continued, "Well, we'd better let you get to that meeting. Good luck with your class." 

"Thanks." he said, smiling back. "I guess I'll talk to you later." 

Her smile broadened. "You bet. Bye!" Kim and Sammy waved, still smiling those sly smiles, and he waved back, watching the three of them until they disappeared behind a clump of trees. <Let's see. I'm stranded in deep space, aboard an alien ship, with giant aliens trying to kill me, there's a briefing on God Knows What in thirty minutes, and I just met trio of attractive women. Could be worse, I suppose.> 

He turned and began jogging towards the barracks compound. 

The meeting itself was rather short, some Colonel that David had never seen before addressing the massed ranks of the RDF's pilot corps. They all listened in stunned silence as he told them that an offensive was going to be launched against the aliens after the SDF-1 entered the rings of Saturn in the morning. David couldn't quite comprehend the rationale behind such a move. He was a good soldier, though, and would do what he was told. Even if it killed him. 

David found it impossible to concentrate during his advanced avionics class that afternoon. He was not alone, he noticed, as he looked around the room. Nearly all of the pilots in his class were oblivious to the instructor's words, each lost in their own worlds, pondering the mission to come tomorrow. David wondered how many of his classmates would be alive by this time tomorrow. 

Eventually the instructor noticed that none of his students were listening to him, and understanding their uneasiness, released them from class early. David, far from being overjoyed by the news, realized that he had nowhere to go, and nothing to do. He was tempted to try and track Vanessa down, but decided against it. <By the time I track down one individual on a ship of seventy thousand...> He gathered up his books and headed back to the barracks. <Ah well, it's not like it matters.> he told himself, not quite believing his own words. 

David was alone in his and Tony's room, sitting on his bed, his back resting against the wall. The lights in the room were dimmed, the only illumination coming through the open door that led into the hall. All the other members of the squadron were out carousing around Macross City, relieving their pre-battle anxieties in a horde of different ways. David preferred the company of silence, the comfort of darkness to ease his nerves. 

His thoughts drifted as he sat there, and he found himself thinking of all the friends and family he had left behind on Earth. He wondered how they were dealing with his disappearance. Indeed, he wondered how the world was dealing with the events of that June day. Were his friends thinking of him now? Had his family given up on his return? He sighed and hugged his knees to his chest. He wondered if he would live long enough to see his home again. 

He cursed himself and forced his thoughts to the present. He had new friends now, the members of his squad (excepting Sergeant Malone), the other members of the NightHawks, the people in his classes, Vanessa and her companions. As he thought of Vanessa, he saw her face before him, and he wondered what she was up to at that moment, her and her two friends. He wondered what it was about her that had caught his attention so firmly. He wondered if wondering so much about someone you didn't really know was healthy, or if it was a sign of some psychological problem. He wondered whet- 

"Hey, David?" 

David shouted an incomprehensible obscenity and smacked his head against the wall. When the stars cleared, he saw Tony standing at the foot of David's bunk, an amused expression on his face. "Did I startle you?" 

"No shit, you asshole." David said, his tone humorous. "Do you get a kick out of scaring the bejeezus out of people?" 

"Not usually, but you're an exception." Tony said, laughing, as he sat down on his own bunk. "You seemed so enthralled in your own thoughts, I couldn't resist. And besides, you left the door open." 

"Thanks a lot. I'll return the favor sometime." He rubbed the back of his head. "You asshole, probably gonna be a bump from the damned wall." 

"Guess we'll need a crowbar to get you in your helmet tomorrow, huh?" At the mention of the pending mission they both quieted, lost in thought. Rumor had it that the NightHawks had pulled rear-guard patrol duty for tomorrow, which meant that they wouldn't see any front-line combat. Combat duty was combat duty, though, and you never knew what might happen. 

David sighed and leaned back against the wall. "So, how's 'Old Yeller'? Ready for tomorrow?" 

"You bet!" Tony replied, his eyes reflecting his concern. "I just wish I was." He looked at David, a questioning look in his eyes. "Are you going to get any sleep tonight?" 

David thought a moment before answering. "I think I will. I don't know. I think I should be more nervous than I am, maybe. I don't know." 

"Me too." Tony said, nodding slowly. "I'm just afraid that I'll let someone down tomorrow. Maybe get someone killed." 

"Hey, enough of that!" David said, pulling himself upright. "Don't sell yourself short - you're a lot better than you think." 

"Really?" 

"Yes, really. And don't worry about letting anyone down. As long as you do your best, and don't give up, then you'll have done fine." David smiled and leaned back against the wall. "And besides, who would you disappoint? Sergeant Malone?" 

"Aw, don't remind me of him now!" Tony protested, throwing his hands up. "I want to have pleasant dreams, not nightmares." 

"What I mean is this," David said quickly, "You can't make him dislike you any more than he does, right?" Tony nodded, and David continued. "Then prove that you're better than he expects. Make him respect you." 

"Maybe I'll just shoot him instead." Tony said, his eyes alight. David knew him well enough to know that he was joking. This time. 

"You? Hell, you couldn't hit a battleship if it was right in front of you." David said, smiling. 

Tony laughed. "Me? You say that about me? I'm not the one who scored five out of fifty on the range!" 

"That was three weeks ago!" David said, shaking his head. "I'm up to fifteen now." 

"Ah, you just don't understand the mechanics behind the GU-11, that's all." Tony said, sighing. "I've tried to tell you before. You have to be one with the machine, coax it to do what you want. It's real simple if you understand the mechanics of the thing." 

David had a thought, and decided to test it out. "Well, how 'bout you explain it to me again. Maybe I'll get it this time." 

Tony smiled, happy to be able to demonstrate his knowledge to someone. "Well, it's like this..." 

David's hunch was right. Listening to the mechanical aspects of the GU-11 gun pod was better than a tranquilizer. He was asleep in five minutes. 

Forward to Chapter 11. 
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