A/N: This chapter will contain some non-canon material, from a technical standpoint. So far, I've done my best to remain faithful to the established terminologies and technologies contained in the Macross universe, but I had to break away from it a bit to progress with the story.
I searched the internet high and low for detailed explanations on the workings of sub, hyper, and fold space. Unfortunately, it seems that there's not a lot of material available outside of the magazines that a lot of the sites get the really detailed information from. After gleaning as much Macross-related information to the subject, I combined it with actual theories from quantum physics and the such. I spent an entire afternoon working out the mechanics of my version of dimensional physics to use here, so try not to laugh... too much. =o)
I used a pretty good analogy to explain it to the reader. I'll go into further details at the end of the chapter. -03/11/10
Out near the rings of Coral-5 in the middle of the combat simulation area, a single red Queadluun Rhea dukes it out simultaneously with 4 VF-171EXs. As the red power armor easily dispatches the team of 4 fighters, the pilot begins to wonder if there's a shred of talent left in the fleet. "Is there no one left to at least challenge me a little?" Klan thinks to herself. Her frustration in dealing with so many inexperienced pilots needs to be released a little bit.
Klan sat in Ozma's office reading some reports that he gave her to review. Ozma sat quietly behind his desk, organizing pilot performance files in preparation for the upcoming selection process. As Klan looked over each performance report, she tossed them back on Ozma's desk. "Nope. Nope. Nope... and, nope." she smugly says to each one. Ozma had taken a lot of time to create some semblance of organization to his files and Klan seemed to disregard any importance to the order they were in as she picked them up, looked them over, and discarded them on his desk.
Ozma stopped what he was doing to address Klan's pickiness. "Let's step back for a moment, here... We're on a very short timetable right now. We need to finish this phase of the operation so we can get to the real important one," he said, "I spoke with HQ earlier today and they inform me that they will need us to finish as quickly as possible. The new Zentraedi fleet is being assimilated into the colony as we speak, but resources are severely limited to accommodate the new construction that needs to be done. The longer we take out here, the longer it's going to be before we gain control over our resource usage back home."
Klan sat back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. "Have you and Alto found anyone worth noting?" she asked. As Klan reached for more pilot profiles, Ozma replied, "Of course we've identified some talent out there. You still need to learn that good pilots require a bit of guidance for them to reach their potential. Working with them and watching them grow from chicklings to real pilots is part of the job." Just as Ozma said that statement, Klan had noticed that the file she was now holding was Cal's. Her memory flashed back to when she observed his shaky flying at first, how he practiced his maneuvers during patrol shifts, to her two dogfights with him. Each time they met, he had improved drastically. However, the image of his disrespectful showboating overlapped those memories.
Klan tossed the folder back onto Ozma's desk, and folded her arms. "NO," she stressed. Ozma could see the pilot's name on the folder upside down from him. He leaned forward to speak. "I want you to consider something for a moment, Klan," Ozma said, "Do you think that because you got to work with him a lot, that he was able to step his game up to another level?" Klan still sat with her arms folded, "I don't know... I guess... maybe." Ozma saw the opening to show Klan the fruits of her labors. "It may not happen with all of the pilots, but how do you know what the good ones are if you're unwilling to spend time with them?"
Klan's eyes grew open as her mind instantly flashed back to her conversation with Bobby back on Aimo. "But if you don't start to get to know people, how will you ever know if they're the kind of person you've been searching for?" Bobby's voice echoed. It suddenly started to make sense in a strange, coincidental way.
Klan became relaxed and casually reached back to Ozma's desk to re-evaluate the files that she had just previously rejected. Ozma could see the change of attitude within her, and sat back into his chair to quietly continue his work on selecting the pilots with Klan's help.
Out in space, Cal's finger hovered over a button labeled "Send" on his RVF's control console. After some hesitation, he allowed the finger to land on the button. The console displayed a progress bar in a pop-up window. After the bar filled, the computer notified Cal of the result, "Message Sent Successfully!" Cal exhaled in relief. Now, it's back to patrol duty.
In someone's quarters somewhere, a small box repeatedly blinks on the corner of a display panel. The dim lights in the quarters make the blinking box very noticeable to anyone who happens to walk into the room. The outside hallway lights form a quadrilateral shape on the floor as the door slides open. Someone's silhouette sits within the box of light on the floor. It moves forward a bit and the door closes behind, making the box of light and the silhouette disappear. The faint outline of a person, illuminated by the dim light, moves forward and turns on a desk light. The lamp allows one to see the rest of the quarters. This room is quite a bit larger than your standard quarters. An officer must stay here.
Taking off her jacket, Klan notices the blinking light on her display panel. The box shows that there is a message waiting for her to read. Curious to know who the heck could be leaving her a message, she turns on the display to identify its source. She frowns when she reads the name, "Lt. Wagner, Calvin A." Something inside of her urged Klan to open it.
The viewscreen paused for a moment, while the message was retrieved. When it finished with the retrieval, a video played. Cal's face could be seen behind the visor on his helmet. Every few seconds, his eyes would dart to in front of him or to the console to the side of the camera. The very sight of him began to slowly erode Klan's stomach away, but she continued to watch.
"Commander, I just wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day. You didn't deserve the treatment I gave you after the duel, and it took a lecture from my squadron commander to help me realize it. Ever since it happened, I've felt embarrassed, mortified, and upset that I allowed myself to be oblivious to the respect that you deserve. I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed serving patrol duty with you. Your very presence around me has helped me create my goals as a pilot," the message said. Klan's frown disappeared, but she remained indifferent. "Now, I'm stuck out here with some fool from the Deimos who thinks that I am the greatest pilot who ever lived. The person I used to be would embrace the compliments wholeheartedly, but because of all of this, I now care nothing of the outcome of our duel. All that matters to me, now, is that I've offended you and dishonored myself. I wish I could tell you this in person, but admittedly, I am too ashamed to confront you about it. I hope that you can someday forgive me over this. It would be nice to be able to fly at your side again, because I now realize how much I respect you for being who you are. You are the better pilot, and I will remain a chickling until I can prove that I represent a real pilot like yourself."
Klan got up from her desk and flopped down on her bed to think about things. Ozma's statement about spending time to grow good pilots echoed through her mind. Bobby's advice on finding someone to love also began to enter the mix. Do the two concepts really have the same rules? In her mind, she begins to acknowledge Cal's effort to make things right. Now he's going to have to prove that he means what he says. It'll be up to him to create the opportunity to do so, if he really does care.
Near Coral-5's rings, Cal waited for the rest of his patrol shift to end. As he peered towards the battle simulation zone to see if there was any action going on, his radome began to pick up faint fold waves. He switched his display to show a readout of the weak signal and began recording it. "This isn't strong enough to mean anything. It's not a ship defold signature, and it's different than the fold waves that Ranka and Sheryl produce when they sing." Cal directed the sensor array to electronically output the waves into his headset.
Closing his eyes and putting his hands on the sides of his helmet to press the speakers closer to his ears, he focused on identifying any pulses or patterns of the waves. Before he could make any definitive conclusions, the fold waves dissipated, leaving silence behind. Cal opened his eyes and put his hands down to replay the digital display of the wave signature. He realized that he should notify command of the minor disturbance.
"Helios 14 to Azusa Tower," he called out. "Go ahead, Helios 14," the tower responded. "I just picked up a faint fold wave about 15 seconds ago. Did you guys detect anything?" Cal asked. The tower remained silent for a few seconds; probably to check with their radar readouts. The comm line opened up again, "No, we have no record of any fold wave anomalies." Cal began to wonder if he was just in the right place at the right time, or if this was just some unexplained phenomenon that doesn't really mean anything.
He programmed the sensor array to transmit the recording he had made to the Azusa for analysis. "Tower, I'm sending you the recording I made of the signal. It may be nothing, but it couldn't hurt to give it a closer look," Cal said, as he finished sending. The console on Cal's ship blipped again. "Tower, it looks like my relief is here. I'm heading home now," he said. The Tower acknowledged Cal and closed the line.
Some time later, Cal disembarked from his RVF in the Azusa's hangar. The fold signature was still being analyzed in his mind, although not being able to see or hear it anymore was making it difficult. As he walked towards the hangar exit to the living areas, Commander Junzou's office door opened. "Wagner!" Junzou called out. The commander saw that Cal had heard him and left the door open while he went back to his desk.
Cal entered the office, still carrying his helmet and knapsack. "Sir?" he asked. Junzou put his hand out to gesture Cal to have a seat. "A couple of things real quick, Lieutenant. Fleet Captain Wilder just gave me a memo regarding the fold signature recording you submitted to the Tower. After analyzing it, they asked me to put a gag order on anyone who knows about it. I'm guessing that you stumbled upon something that might be a clue as to the whereabouts of the Galaxy colonization fleet. That's just merely conjecture, as I have not been made privy to the results of their analysis. Have you told anyone of what you received out there?" Junzou asked. Cal shook his head, "No, Sir." "Good. Keep it that way, got it?" the Commander ordered. Cal nodded.
"Secondly, I think you should know that I got a message from Lt. Commander Klang of Skull Squadron. She wanted me to tell you that she received your message. That's pretty much all it said. I'm guessing you did the right thing, then?" Junzou asked again. "Yes, Sir. I followed your recommendation," Cal responded, "I'm not sure why she didn't just send that message to me." Junzou gained a smarmy grin on his face. "From what I know of women in general, I wouldn't worry about that too much. At least she thought of you enough to request that I forward that response to you. Just give that some time," Junzou replied.
"Okay, and finally, I'm going to be putting you back out on patrol again in a few hours. Part of Wilder's memo was that he needs as many RVF's deployed as possible, in case the fold signature begins to pass by again. I'd put you back out now, but you just got in. I need you to get a few winks of sleep and come see me as soon as soon you're rested enough to get back out there. It's best if you're as attentive as possible so you don't miss anything like that again," Junzou ordered. Cal acknowledged, somewhat begrudgingly.
"You did good getting that recording out to be analyzed. I'm sure they have some teams working on it right now to determine the source and its intent," Junzou said, "Go get some rest, Lieutenant. Dismissed." Cal saluted and left the office towards his quarters.
Right about that time, Luca and Lam worked together on the Macross Quarter bridge, analyzing the fold wave that Cal had recorded. Lam's monitor had various boxes and insets open simultaneously. Most of them animated their readouts in synchronization with the progression of the looping playback. Both Luca and Lam had extensive experience in communications and fold-waves and shared their thoughts on the still-theoretical framework of fold-wave technology.
Lam reminded Luca of their objectives, "Remember, we have to find out what the source of this wave is and what its intent is." "Determining its origin is still difficult. The recording was not done in the proper fidelity to get a directional indicator from this wave. If we were looking at it in real-time, or if the RVF-171EXs had the latest fold-communications technology installed to record it properly, it wouldn't be an issue," Luca retorted, "Its intent is a subjective matter. Since we still don't have this wave pattern on record, we won't know what it was for."
Lam took this in for a moment, but she quickly replied, "Then let's just look at this more and if we can't figure out its true intent, we can at least formulate a list of things to submit to the Captain when we're ready." Luca agreed and the two dove right into their studies, focused on uncovering as much information as possible.
A couple of hours later, Cal restlessly slept in his quarters. His mind seemed to be going a million miles an hour, despite him being asleep. A disconcerted look remained on his face as he repositioned his body underneath his covers every few seconds.
In his dream, Cal laid in his bed, which was surrounded by a pink and red ether. It appeared to be the only thing in sight. Suddenly, Cal sensed what felt like fingers running up and down his skin, feeling out the contours of his body through the sheet. Scared out of his mind, he threw the sheet off of himself and got out of his bed. His body floated in the ether next to the bed he was lying on before. The sheet he threw off his body remained suspended in midair, but it laid flat vertically, as if against a wall. An image of a person began to show faintly on the cloth. Cal winced as he tried to recognize the person being shown in front of him. He was shocked as he realized who it was.
"Marie?" Cal called out. The image did not react to Cal's beckoning. It motioned for him to come closer, not making a sound. It continued to make the same gesture as Cal got closer and closer to the bed sheet until he finally laid against it with his head turned to the side. The sheet felt a bit like water, but Cal pressed his ear to it, as if he was listening through a wall to the conversation on the other side. The sheet vibrated as he laid against it. It almost felt like someone's voice was causing the vibration. His ear began to pick up the voice of Marie as she was talking to him.
"Fold... your sheet. Your sheet is fold. Make open space." Marie's voice said to him in broken sentences. "I... I don't understand. I should fold my sheets to make space? Space for what?" Cal asked. The voice did not answer. Cal lifted his head from the sheet and watched Marie's image fade away. Suddenly, the sheet began to quickly grow and envelop Cal in a super-sized sphere that stretched out behind him farther than he could see.
As he looked behind him to see how far the sheet reached, he saw his bed begin to move position and morph into a Guantanamo-class carrier. All around the inside of the perimeter of the sphere, figures appeared in formations similar to the positioning of the fighter patrols that Cal had to help support during his on-duty times. Some of the figures were familiar to him. His wingmates, Commander Junzou, even Klan's red Queadluun was noticeable off in the distance. Behind him, it seemed like countless anonymous figures floated in clusters. Jen Wentz was the only recognizable figure amongst the shadowy groups of humanoid-looking figures.
Just as Cal finished looking around himself, he felt the sheet rippling, as if someone was tapping on it. Cal laid himself flat against the sheet, hoping to hear Marie's voice again. Instead of a voice, he could feel fingers running over his body again just like before. Cal began to imagine Marie touching him as she had done many times before when she was alive. The hands began to get more aggressive until Cal sensed something was not right. He pushed himself off the wall to see what it was that was spooking him. As he strained to look closer, a dark, non-humanoid shape materialized. Cal sensed danger lurking nearby and just as he began to cautiously back away, the figure made a punching gesture, winding it's appendage back for a strike.
The appendage burst through the sheet, causing the cloth to melt away, as if being set on fire. The figure behind the sheet became visible, revealing a very agitated red Vajra mecha-drone. Similar holes were torn open all around the perimeter of the bed sheet near the people positioned there, showing more Vajra behind them. As Cal looked on in horror, the Vajra lunged at him in an attack posture.
Cal awoke from his dream and sat up. His heart was pounding and his breath was short. He threw the blankets off of himself and turned to put his feet on the cold deck in his quarters. He sat on the edge of his bed with his face in his hands, trying to reorient himself to the real world after his confusing dream. Suddenly, the memory of the fold wave he had picked up earlier entered his mind, for no apparent reason. With the memory of his dream fresh in his mind, he unconsciously made a comparison to the feeling of the hands touching him through the sheet to the visual output from the fold wave sample.
"Fold your sheet. Your sheet is fold. Make open space," Cal repeated to himself the words that Marie had told him in his dream. His mind struggled to make sense of the words. Ever since he returned to service in the NUNS, Cal had seen more and more evidence that his former lover was still near him in some way. Every little nuance and inconsequential whisper in his ear told him that Marie was still working for him from beyond the grave. Whether it was true or not, it was still a profound phenomenon that was worth taking a look at whenever it happened. This dream was no exception and Cal did what he could to take it seriously.
Suddenly, the answer hit him as he put the pieces together inside his mind. "Oh shit!" he exclaimed as he rushed to put his pants on and grabbed his jacket and PDA off the table. Running through the halls and dodging soldiers, Cal dialed up a number on his PDA and held the device to his ear. "Commander? I'm on my way to the hangar, I need to speak with you urgently!"
Commander Junzou patiently waited in his office. A quick knock preceded the door opening on its own. The door swung open to show Cal hunched slightly over, holding his abdomen as he worked to catch his breath. After closing the door behind him, Cal began to explain his abrupt intrusion while Junzou looked on, waiting for the reason. "We were being probed," Cal said, coming out of left field. Junzou's eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Why do you think that, Lieutenant?" he asked. Cal began to think about how absurd his dream would sound to Junzou. What would be even more absurd is that he was taking his dream so seriously, basing his opinion solely on a nocturnal mirage.
"If I told you how I came to this conclusion, you wouldn't believe it. It's just that the signature that I recorded did not match anything on record. The safest, most conservative conclusion to it would be that we may be close to an attack. Even Captain Wilder takes this conservative approach, even though he doesn't know what it is. Why do you think he ordered additional RVFs to be deployed? The worst that could happen is we get attacked and at least we'd be prepared for it with more fighters out there," Cal said, stopping after every sentence to catch his breath.
Junzou clamped his hands together in front of his face as he began to think about Cal's words. Cal had to verify the symbolism of his dream without telling the Commander of why he knows this. "Sir, is it possible to speak with the people who are working on the wave sample's analysis?" Junzou could tell that Cal was dead serious and convinced of his theory. Willing to go out on a limb, Junzou contacted the captain of the Azusa to request permission to speak with Quarter's communications officers.
After receiving the approval, Azusa's communications officer patched Cal and Commander Junzou through to Luca and Lam, still working on the bridge of the Quarter. "Lieutenants Angelloni and Hoa? This is Commander Junzou of Helios Squadron, Azusa. One of my pilots here has a theory on the fold wave sample he sent to you earlier today," Junzou started as he introduced Cal. Lam and Luca nodded in acknowledgment. "You're the pilot that recorded this?" Luca asked of Cal. "Yes, Lieutenant," Cal responded as he went into his explanation.
Jen Wentz heard Cal's voice coming from behind her. "Cal??" she thought to herself. She began to feel very hot as the feeling of nervousness overcame her. She tried not to show reaction to what was going on behind her and continued to direct aerospace traffic near the Quarter. She kept an ear open to the conversation that was going on behind her, though.
"We all know that fold-space exists between real-space and subspace. If you can imagine fold-space as a blanket laid over a contoured surface, you could run your hands over the blanket and feel each impression through your hands. Would it be possible for a being in subspace to be able to 'feel' things in real space while in subspace?" Cal asked. Lam and Luca were very confused, but intrigued by Cal's analogy. "We still have only discovered a small percentage of the properties of subspace and fold-space. It could be possible, but we don't know for sure. Who would have the ability to possibly do such a thing?" Lam asked.
"As far as I know, a being that has spent eons inhabiting subspace. A super-dimensional life form," Cal responded. Lam and Luca looked at each other in enlightenment. "The Vajra!" they both simultaneously exclaimed. Cal nodded, "Exactly. What I detected could be a method of probing. They may know we're here and were verifying our positions with that fold wave I recorded." Luca asked, "But, I thought the Vajra hive left to parts unknown. What are they still doing here?"
Captain Wilder overheard the conversation and approached the communications station where Luca and Lam were talking to Cal and Junzou. "The Vajra are still a relatively unknown species. What we know of them is probably just the tip of the iceberg. I agree that they could still remain in this system in one way or another. If you look at the examples of social hive-minded insects on Earth and Eden, the Vajra behave similarly. When beehives swarm, the queen leaves with most of her workers and drones. A new, virgin queen will take her place in the existing hive and begin to reproduce again. We can't assume that the entire Vajra hive has followed their queen to wherever she went," Wilder stated.
Everyone nodded in agreement. Cal re-entered the conversation with the other part of his dream, "I believe that there is an imminent attack by rogue Vajra swarms. One of the lesser queens may be operating under her own volition, and is commanding her drones to scout us out before attacking." Cal stood up and got ready to leave, "Excuse me, Sirs, but I think I need to be out there on the lines, looking for signs of an attack." Wilder and Junzou nodded at Cal and he left the room to get into his RVF.
The officers continued to debate the legitimacy of Cal's claims for several minutes after he left to get into his pressure suit. Before a decision was made, Monica's radar station began to signal the formation of fold-space disturbances in a highly localized area on the defense perimeter. "Captain! I'm picking up a large number of defold signatures coming from bearing 020, 358. About 1000 kilometers out!" Wilder gasped as he looked out of the front of the bridge. The faint glow of the defold signatures emerging into real-space could be seen by the naked eye, despite being so far away.
From the Azusa's launchpad, Cal could see the incoming enemy craft emerging from subspace. Two intense feelings overcame him simultaneously as he awaited the catapult officer's launch approval. The feeling of anticipation of combat made him feel excited to be back in the mix of things. However, it also made him somewhat fearful because of what happened on his last combat duty. To fight off his apprehension, Cal cranked his rock music up in the earbuds he had set up to keep himself out of trouble for listening to music while on duty.
The launchpad illuminated the holographic displays showing him the runway markers. The display changed colors, signaling his launch authorization. Before opening the throttle, Cal placed two fingers on his visor and puckered his lips, as if giving a kiss. He then placed those fingers on his flightsuit, under which his engagement rings rested against his chest. A determined look fell upon Cal's face as he cranked the throttle up and burst across the runway into free space.
Entering his flight pattern to enter the battle area, Cal turned his music off to be able to hear the radio chatter. He noticed that none of the ships had yet reacted to the defolds. It looks like he's the only reinforcements for at least a couple of minutes. In the Azusa hangar, alarms sounded as Commander Junzou rushed to get his flightsuit on. "Lieutenant Wagner, your orders are to support the defenses until reinforcements arrive." he said over the comm line in his office. "Acknowledged, Commander," Cal said from his RVF.
"It's a simple swarm, no carriers are with them," Monica reported. "Who's in that sector?" Captain Wilder asked. "It's mostly RVFs with a few escort fighters, Sir. Lt. Commander Klang is the ranking officer in that area," Monica responded. "Put me through to her," Wilder ordered.
Klan's display monitor showed Wilder in an inset screen on the corner. Klan was already locked in combat with several Vajra. "You are in charge out there, Commander. Make sure that those damn bugs don't get through while we scramble the reinforcements," Wilder ordered. "How long do you need?" Klan asked. "It's going to be about 3 minutes. There is already one fighter on the way to reinforce you... a Lieutenant, uh... Wagner in an RVF-171EX," Wilder responded. That was one name that Klan did not want to hear at that time. After a moment of hesitation, Klan acknowledged her orders.
Unfortunately for Klan, many of the RVFs in the area were quick to go down, leaving her with only a handful of VFs and RVFs to hold the line. The comm lines were full of the pilots screaming as they went down in flames. The remaining pilots grew more and more nervous while their wingmates were eliminated. Klan remained steadfast, zooming around with blinding speed and engaging groups of targets simultaneously. The number of Vajra still heavily outnumbered the remaining NUNS fighters, though.
Klan's fighter group began to buckle at the knees in the face of these overwhelming odds. Several pilots started to retreat, against Klan's orders. "Pilots, you were ordered to hold the line! Return to combat at once!" Klan barked out over the radio. Only a couple of fighters remained in combat. As she turned to watch the fighters leaving the battle zone, they were shot down by drones who had broken through the line at their former positions. "Tch... the cowards are always the first to die," she mumbled to herself as she sped up to catch the progressing intruders.
Successfully destroying the farthest-penetrating drones, Klan turned to watch the two remaining VFs get shot down. She was the only thing that stood in the way of the advancing swarm. Only about 20 Vajra remained in the attacking group, but it was far too much for one pilot to handle. Sensing her oncoming destiny, Klan gritted her teeth and charged headfirst into the group, hoping to take as many of those bastards as she could before she finally bit it. "This is how it must end!" she yelled as she opened fire on the swarm. A tear formed in the corner of her eye. The inertia of the acceleration caused the tear to fall backwards towards her ears. "I'm coming, Michael..." Klan thought to herself, while she charged into the hopeless battle.
A/N: As you can see, I had to go out on a limb on the explanation of the relationships between sub, hyper, and fold. I consider fold to be the all-encompassing dimension. That means that hopping into any adjacent space means traveling through fold. Fold acts as a membrane of sorts that holds everything together and is not capable of being used for travel by three-dimensional objects. It is capable of being used in a two-dimensional manner, such as communications.
At the time that I wrote this, I had to assume that communications had previously been using either sub or hyper. The advent of fold communications came early on in the Frontier series. I realize that I may be using the terminology wrong, but like I said, I couldn't find any good sources, so I just made up my own. Because of this, I also realize that my story drifts away from canon... it IS a fanfic after all, though. Pretty much everyone's stories are non-canon. I just wanted to stay as accurate as possible. Is that too much to ask?? *sniffle*
Anyway, let me know if you guys have any comments or suggestions so I can go back and possibly rewrite to make it a little more accurate. -03/11/10