The morning brought with it overcast skies and scattered showers. The weather mimicked the emotions of those who were being left behind by their loved ones on their way to the stars; cloudy and teary. The harbor and starport were bustling with activity, doing their best to manage vehicle traffic and the crowds of people there to see their loved ones off. Countless transports and boats arrived and departed, shuttling personnel to their assigned stations on and around the planet Aimo.
One of the first ships scheduled to leave was the Macross Quarter. All the necessary preparations were made and the Quarter was docked longways against the wharf, like the warships of old back on Earth. Several ramps were rigged up against the flight deck for both personnel and large cargo to travel on. On the pier, groups of several people congregated to see off their loved ones.
Alto stood in uniform, ready to part from the two people whom have given him the most grief in his life, and at the same time the most happiness. Sheryl looked like she had not gotten much sleep at all the previous night, but she was the first to say goodbye. She started out with a loving hug and kiss on his cheek. She gently placed a sealed envelope in his hands. It was adorned with sketches and figures. Sheryl probably drew them while thinking of what to put on the letter inside.
"Alto, this is for you. I want you to read it ONLY after you've left orbit. You can talk to me about it when you get back," she said, stepping back to allow Ranka her turn. She took a deep breath and replaced her worried look with one of happiness and strength. Alto saw this and smiled in return. He turned his gaze to Ranka, whose eyes had already begun to water.
Ranka handed Alto a carefully-crafted paper airplane, which was neatly printed with a collage of various pictures of her alone and her with Alto. Obviously the paper airplane was how she embodies Alto, based on their earliest memories together. "It's going to be hard to describe how much I'm going to miss you. I hope this will help you remember some good times while you're out there," she said, teary-eyed. She hugged Alto and buried her face into his chest to let some of those tears out.
After a couple of moments holding Alto, she turned to Ozma. Alto took his last looks at Sheryl, Ranka, Nanase, and Brera. "Brera, why don't you want to come?" Alto asked. "We could definitely use a pilot of your abilities out there for extra security," he said. Brera smiled and shook his head. "My duty is here to protect my sister. Just think of me as Aimo's last line of defense," he said, shaking Alto's hand. The two nodded towards each other. Alto said his final goodbyes to the group, turned around, slung his duffel bag over his shoulder, and made his way up the ramp to the Quarter's flight deck.
Ranka, already sundered by her tears for Alto, also had a hard time saying goodbye to Ozma. For the first time in her life, he was going to be away from her for a long time. "Ever since I can remember, I have always longed for my own life outside of your control. Now that my 'wish' has come true, I don't want it anymore. Please come back soon, Brother," she said with a quivering voice. She handed him a music disc as his gift. Ozma looked at her as if he was about to ask what was on it. She answered him before he could speak a syllable, "I covered your favorite Fire Bomber songs and recorded them just for you. You'll be the only person in the universe with these songs. I hope you like them!"
Ozma was blown away by the profoundness of her gift. It must have been a stroke of genius for her to think of such a thing for a parting present for him. Ozma grinned and gave Ranka a big hug for giving him such a great gift. "I'll be listening to it every night, I promise. Don't worry about a thing, Ranka. Your music could stop an entire army from fighting, and I mean that literally!" he said.
Ranka shrunk back into the group and Cathy confidently strolled up and handed him a large container. "Here's the favor being returned, plus some homework for you," she said, "Pineapple cake and my recipe for it. Your assignment is going to be to learn how to make it RIGHT and then you must create one for me to taste test when you get back." Ozma scoffed at his assignment, but knew that he'd be in big trouble if he didn't do it before returning. Looking past the obvious underlying meaning behind her assignment, which was to not get killed, Ozma gave Cathy a look that she'll not soon forget. They embraced each other for one last passionate kiss before he embarked onto his ship.
Close by, Luca and Nanase spent their last moments together as best as any two young lovers would. Nanase had completely lost control of her sadness and Luca soon thereafter when he saw what her gift to him was. A huge box of painstakingly-crafted snack cookies in various shapes, such as each of their faces, Valkyries, hearts, and even the lieutenant's insignia Luca now carried on his uniform. He was going to have a hard time finishing this box of cookies, no matter how long he was out on deployment.
Kanaria had already finished her goodbyes with her husband and son, and she stood strong in the face of the anxiety of separation from them. She's always been good at convincing herself that her loved ones will always remain safe while she's not at home.
Klan and Nene didn't have anyone to see them off, but they were okay with it, as long as they had each other to keep them company. Just as Klan began to wonder if her sister would ever begin to open up to anyone special to her, she thought Nene was looking at Brera as if she was going to miss him. When did she find time to form a bond with him?? Klan began to imagine Michael walking next to her as she walked up the boarding ramp. In her mind, he'll always be right beside her wherever she goes.
Once the Quarter crew had finished loading up, the group of the newly disassociated headed back to the transportation depot to return home and to work. While standing on the paved walkway, waiting for a bus, Cathy noticed a familiar character standing on the other side of the road waiting for his ride. Cal glumly stood with his duffel bag at his feet, thinking about his previous night's encounter with Jen and his upcoming time in the service in space. He glanced up at the right spot to notice a distraught Cathy staring at him. He could tell that look on her face; someone she loves just left for space. He straightened up and saluted the superior officer with respect. Cathy cracked a smile and saluted in return. Before they could put their arms down at ease, a bus pulled up in front of Cal and stopped, blocking their view. The bus sat and shook as the soldiers loaded up each seat. Once it completed loading, the chassis raised back up and the bus continued on to its next destination. Cathy looked for Cal once the bus left, but he was gone. Again, a hint of sadness entered her heart as she thought about how that may be the last time she sees that particular individual.
Up on the bridge of the Quarter, the crew had completed its preflight checks. Monica, in communications with the harbor master, gave an all-clear to the control center. Outside of the Quarter, the ramps retracted and the moorings popped their restraints off as the cables fell lifelessly to the deck of the wharf. Two tugboats then sounded their enormous foghorns and the engines on the tugs began to toss the water up behind the boats. The Quarter began to slowly pull away from the wharf and headed out to deeper sea to safely raise itself from the water and head for orbit.
Jen had already gone through the "tribunal" from her bridgemates. She neither confirmed nor denied having done anything gossip-worthy the night before, but she knew that the gang could see through her neutrality. She was not going to hear the end of it for the rest of the trip, for sure. Her thoughts turned to Cal as the Quarter was briefly turned in the direction of the starport on the edge of the bay. Her anticipation turned to sadness as she realized that she will probably never see him again. "Cal..." she muttered under her breath, trying to smile at her memory of him from last night. A couple of the girls heard her and whipped their heads around to see where it came from.
"Cal." Cal, who was standing in line outside of the transport, whipped his head around to see who called his name. Nobody seemed to be looking for him... until a courier from Bell-Casse emerged from behind a group of soldiers, holding a package. "Cal Wagner?" he asked as he ran up to Cal. Cal nodded and took the pen from him to sign the delivery receipt. "Your package, sir. Good luck to you!" he yelled as he ran back off. Cal briefly looked at the package to see if David's name was on it. Yup, it was. He stuffed it into his duffel to read when he got on board his ship.
The transport was a bit crowded, but Cal didn't seem to mind. At least he had a window seat. The soldier next to him initiated some small talk while they waited for takeoff, and Cal was receptive, but not very interested in talking at the moment. He stared off at the sight of the entire city being partially lit by the sun breaking through the clouds. Pillars of light crept across the buildings and they each glimmered like giant diamonds intricately placed in rows. "This is why I do what I do," he thought to himself. He made sure he made a mental picture of the city in its pristine glory this fine morning.
The transport pinned its passengers in their seats from the inertial force of its sudden acceleration. As the ship moved forward, Island-1 was no longer blocking view of the Quarter still being shuttled out to sea for takeoff. The image of other ships about to leave the planet was soothing to Cal. He knew that space wasn't as lonely or isolated as some people make it out to be. It just means he'll have more room to fly his Valkyrie wherever he chooses... as long as he's not disobeying orders.
The blue sky quickly turned navy blue and gradually to black, as the transport ship left the atmosphere. Cal could once again feel the momentary sensation of weightlessness until the artificial gravity was turned back on and his rear end bore the brunt of the weight of his upper torso.
Still on the planet surface, the Quarter prepared for its takeoff. The tugboats had already drawn in their tug lines and headed back to the harbor. The crew waited for the ship to begin its ascent while strapped into the nearest restraining harness they could find. All sections reported in green and all equipment was properly fastened down to the decks. Captain Wilder stood up to speak into an open comm line to the ship's interior.
"To the crew of the Quarter, I am proud to once again serve as your Captain. We have quite a busy schedule ahead of us for the duration of our voyage and I hope that we will all be able to return home safely to our loved ones," his voice resounded through the ship. Everyone was attentively listening to his words coming from the nearest speaker. "May we return to base in success," he finished. Lam cut the comm on Wilder's motion. He turned to Bobby and ordered the Quarter to move out. "Bobby, ahead slow," he said, sitting down in his Captain's chair. The Quarter slowly lifted from the water and moved forward, maintaining its ascent velocity into orbit.
After circumnavigating the planet's atmosphere for some time, the transport ship carrying Cal began to creep up on a small battlegroup of starships. Cal became glued to the window, searching out his new home, the Azusa. The ships became larger with every passing moment until they were close enough to read the identification numbers and the ship's name printed on the hull. A Guantanamo-class carrier bore the name "Azusa" and Cal's eyes searched the ship over, as if he was checking out a beautiful woman on the street.
The transport slowed down to ease its way into the docking bay. Spacesuit-clad workers in the bay stood ready to service the transport once it stopped moving and docked to the airtight walkway for the passengers to travel across onto their new ship. Cal anticipated the freedom to move about once again on a combat ship, a feeling he had forgotten since his last time in space a few months back.
As the exit crept closer, the door at the end bragged to Cal about the unrestricted movement that would be allowed behind it. Just as he got to the door, though, the line of soldiers stopped and there were several desks with officers sitting behind them. The desks were somewhat disorganized with PDA's and tablets strewn about them. The officers worked quickly to process the new soldiers, but it seemed like forever before Cal was going to get his quarters assignment and subsequently meet his new squad and leader.
After what seemed like an eternity, Cal received his quarters assignment and was ordered to attend a mandatory orientation and lunch in the ship's galley. His first priority, though, was to find his quarters and make himself right at home. "Home," he thought, "is always a relative term to a soldier." Soldiers are always expected to make use of their surroundings, no matter how dire the situation. Fortunately, a 6.5' x 4' bunkbed mattress doesn't seem so bad, compared to the restricting confines of a hospital bed and debilitating injuries.
Cal had no problems finding his quarters. The halls were full of new soldiers lugging their duffels back and forth, trying to make sense of the directory listings on the walls. Each quarter room was a double. Nearest to the door on the left was a full size closet door with shelves inside. There were two bunkbeds equipped with a small display screen at the foot of the bed and a shelf near the head, shrouded by a privacy curtain. Two drawers were installed underneath each bed. Beyond the beds was a door leading to a simple toilet and sink. There was enough space in the walking area for a small table with two chairs. Another larger display screen was located on the back wall next to the bathroom.
It looked like Cal's roommate had already moved in, but he wasn't in the room. Cal sat his duffel bag on the bed and pulled one of the chairs up to sit in while he sifted through his belongings before storing them. Aside from the regulation uniforms, Cal had some civvies, some VF models, and a framed picture of him and Marie. He spent some time to glance at the picture and put Marie's image into his mind to mentally savor. Cal gently placed the picture on the shelf at the head of his bed. He also placed the models into various poses. The clothes went into the drawers under his bed. Cal placed the package from Bell-Casse on his bed so he could open it later. Having moved in, Cal decided to roam the halls a bit before attending the squadron-hosted lunch and orientation.
The galley was a little more expansive than Cal had remembered them being on a carrier with a complement of around 1000 soldiers. This was fortunate, because it was going to be crowded with an entire VF squadron and supporting personnel taking up valuable real estate in the lunchroom. Pilots and maintenance crew gradually congealed into a group near the side of the lunchroom where the commanding officer patiently watched the time before he was going to start. A portable projector sat on the table next to some food he was picking at while waiting.
1200 hours hit and the watch on the squadron commander's wrist beeped to inform him of the time. "All right, listen up!" the commander barked. The buzzing of chatter quickly died down and the sound of chairs scooting up to the tables tapered off. "Welcome to Helios Squadron," the commander said with his hands behind his back. The projector turned on to display a welcome splash screen with the squadron logo on it. The logo was a simple orange sphere with a Valkyrie closely orbiting in front of it, leaving a solid red vapor trail that wrapped around to the backside. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Benjamin Junzou. I will be the squadron commander. We are a general purpose space superiority fighter group, equipped with VF-171EX and RVF-171EX fighters. For our mission, the Azusa will be serving a support role to the Captain Wilder's Macross Quarter during it's operations at Coral-5 and the Kihnes Asteroid Belt," Junzou said.
The name "Macross Quarter" hit Cal like a ton of bricks. He sulked down in his chair as he realized that Jennifer Wentz was serving on that ship. Commander Junzou explained the fleet's mission in the asteroid belt in more detail while thoughts raced through Cal's mind. "Before we begin our operations in the asteroid belt, we will be performing training and combat simulations in the rings of the Coral-5 planet. The purpose of this phase is to test out your abilities and to blow the dust off of your wings in preparation for any possible encounters with Galaxy forces. Also, the very best of you pilots will be selected to join the Macross Quarter as one of its elite forces pilots. NUNS has designated Skull Squadron as the newest elite squadron. Our job is to help them staff that squadron. That means that some of you may not be in Helios Squadron for very long," Junzou continued.
Murmurs began to develop amongst the excited pilots. Already, you could feel the energy of exuberant pilots permeating the stale starship air. Various pilots could be heard bragging of how they're going to earn a spot on the Quarter. Commander Junzou changed the projection screen to show the assignment of each team leader and their wingmen. "Take a look at this assignment chart and see where you will be serving. I also understand that we will be participating in some munitions testing with one of our defense contractors. Who's the test pilot?" he asked, looking around. Cal quietly raised his hand. Junzou smiled, "We're looking forward to seeing what kind of surprises you will have in that bag of tricks."
"Find your team leaders and form up into groups," the Commander ordered. The team leaders stood up and called out their names so the pilots would know where to go. Cal heard his team leader's name over the brief cacophony of team leaders calling out to their pilots. "Prince! Over here, people!" As he sat down, the other pilots recognized him as the test pilot and expressed approval of having the wildcard of the squadron in their team. Each pilot introduced themselves in order around the table. "1st Lieutenant Frank Prince", "Ensign Theresa Carter", "2nd Lieutenant Calvin Wagner", "Ensign Kyung Bae", they all said to each other. Lieutenant Price turned to Cal to speak, "Wagner, you'll be flying the RVF in our team and you'll be 2nd in charge. Your bird will be retrofitted to use the munitions and systems that Bell-Casse sent to us. They thoroughly trained our team mechanic to install and maintain those systems, so you won't have to worry too much about doing all of the work yourself. They also made it specifically clear to us the necessity for your bird to be the RVF, since some of their systems require use of the enhanced radome it carries. Looks like you won't be getting a huge chunk of the action since you'll be acting in a supporting role as our eyes and ears. The rest of us, we will all be flying standard VF-171EX fighters. I'll need your weapons loadout choices to me in an hour for approval. I've read your personnel reports and from what I have seen, I expect this team to dominate those war games!" he said. The team nodded and agreed verbally.
Cal began to think about Frank's unintentionally condescending comment about him having to fly the RVF and not being able to use it as effectively as a VF. Fortunately, this encourages him to show up his team leader by outperforming the expectations that all pilots project onto the RVF variant of the fighter. Ever since the RVF was introduced to NUNS forces, it's been looked down upon as the fighter that they give the less-talented pilots because of its reduced agility and performance. Fortunately, he also had the test munitions at his disposal to increase his combat effectiveness. NUNS probably showed interest in Bell-Casse's technologies based on the input they received of the RVF from its pilots. Cal smiled as he thought to himself how he was going to blow them all away by his hidden potential. Being a test pilot in the past has afforded him the opportunity to try unorthodox maneuvers and tactics.
As the meeting drew to a close, Cal listened attentively to his teammates as they spoke. He was gauging their abilities and potential based on their statements about their combat techniques and technical knowledge of their machines and weapons. Commander Junzou adjourned the meeting and bid his new pilots a farewell.
Cal decided to head back to his quarters. To his surprise, Ensign Bae turned out to be his roommate. The two spent some time further acquainting themselves and watching some television programs on the large display screen.
While the fleet's preparations came to a close, the ships started to move in formation to rendezvous with the Macross Quarter before entering a subspace fold procedure. As the fleet began to come together, Captain Wilder took the time to address the fleet over the communication lines. All display screens were tuned to his message.
"On behalf of the Macross Quarter and the NUNS, I formally welcome you all to this operation. I am Captain Jeffrey Wilder and I will be assuming the position of Fleet Captain for the duration of this mission. Macross Quarter will be serving as the fleet flagship and I will be expecting the very best level of support from my ship and from the rest of the fleet. Shortly, we will enter subspace and emerge near the 1st moon of Coral-5. We will begin fleet operations immediately following our defold. Squadron leaders have been given operations schedules for security patrol and combat simulations and I expect them to be adhered to. I bid you all good luck on our mission. All ships, prepare to enter subspace on my mark," Captain Wilder said. The communications feed cut out as he finished.
As Wilder sat down in his chair, Monica's radar station began to alert her of subspace activity nearby. "Captain! I'm reading several defold reactions bearing 012, range 200 kilometers. Large ships are now emerging from subspace!" she exclaimed. The Captain stood up and looked out the window towards Monica's stated bearing. Defold reactions could be seen in the distance, with several ships beginning to emerge in an attack posture. "Magnification!" he barked. The viewscreen refreshed with a clear magnification of the incoming ships. "They appear to be Zentraedi ships, sir! I'm scanning for IFF signatures now," Monica tensely stated. "There appears to be interference from the fold reactions, it may take awhile to get their identification," she continued.
Trained to react quickly, Wilder had to make a decision. "All hands, be on alert! There are numerous incoming ships!" he barked out to the fleet. He turned to Monica, who was nervously waiting for her instruments to identify the ships. "Lam, hail the ships and ask them for identification!" he said. Lam began to send the transmission from her console. The response time was stretching on for eternity as the nervous crew waited for their next orders. Monica and Lam stared at their screens, waiting for any semblance of response.
By now, the entire Zentraedi fleet had emerged from subspace and escort fighters started to emerge from the bays to secure the area around the capital ships. Lack of response continued to dog the Quarter's fleet, as fingers of nervous personnel tapped on their respective consoles.
After an eternity of waiting, Lam's console beeped from receiving a signal. She promptly opened the communications line and displayed the image at the front of the bridge. A Zentraedi fleet commander stood sternly on his bridge. His archivist officer could only be partially seen standing next to him. The commander didn't look terribly happy. These Zentraedi could come from an uncultured fleet and were looking for a fight!
After a few seconds of silence, the Zentraedi fleet commander changed his disposition to a more cheerful one. "This is Fleet Commander Toral Raozj. We have traveled here to offer the Frontier Colony and its citizens our military support services in exchange for the opportunity to establish a peaceful life on your planet. We received word from Earth NUNS Headquarters that your fleet has successfully colonized a new planet and that you have already created accommodations for your Zentraedi population to live there. We are now transmitting our official designation orders from Earth NUNS over encrypted channel," the commander said. He nodded off in the distance to one of his subordinates to send the transmission. Monica examined the incoming information and confirmed its legitimacy.
Wilder welcomed the newly arrived soldiers and colonists, "On behalf of the Planet Aimo, Frontier Government, and NUNS, we welcome you to our colony. We will forward your communications to NUNS HQ and Frontier Government for processing and approval. Please hold your positions while we wait for a response." Wilder sighed a deep breath of relief. "Commander? We're glad you all are on our side," he said. Toral grinned and nodded in response. "You scared the bejesus out of us," Wilder chuckled. "We thought we might mess with you guys a bit before responding," Toral responded with a laugh.
Wilder cut communications and sat down with a bit of a pout. Those crazy Zentrans nearly gave him a heart attack. He ordered the fleet to stand fast while Frontier Government gave them the OK to leave orbit.
After a bit of waiting, several NUNS capital ships began to show up and head towards the new Zentraedi fleet. Lam alerted Captain Wilder to the transmission she just received. "Captain, we've just been given word to proceed with our operation as scheduled," she said. Wilder opened up a comm line to the fleet, "All ships, proceed with the fold operation."
The Quarter's fleet slowly accelerated forward and entered subspace, leaving behind only a brief afterimage of the space they previously occupied. 200 kilometers away, NUNS ships and the Zentraedi fleet performed a ballet of maneuvers. It looks like the colony just got a lot bigger in such a short series of events. The people of the planet had some more work to do to accommodate their new giant companions.
