Orbit Chapter 3

Early Monday morning, Vanessa tapped the alarm off, and the hotel room's lights automatically rose to fifty percent. Though she and Bron had been awake until late the previous night, she had allowed herself plenty of time to get ready. She didn't want to have to rush her last hours on Earth. She sat up and stretched languidly, tucking her legs in as Bron stirred next to her on the bed and rolled onto his elbow.

"Good morning," he murmured, their eyes meeting. They shared matching smiles, and he lightly caressed her leg, his fingers slowly moving across soft, smooth skin, to firm, synthetic material.

"Good morning," Vanessa replied, making a pleased sound deep in her throat. Her cybernetics didn't give her any different feedback than her own skin, and Bron never treated her replacement limbs differently from any other part of her body. He had made it clear that he saw her as a whole person, a person he admired, respected, and was attracted to. She reached down and lovingly brushed a lock of his shaggy hair behind his ear, trailing her fingertips over his cheek. A soft note issued from the room's data hub, and the little orb on the nightstand dimly flashed orange.

"Breakfast is here," Vanessa said.

"I'll grab it," Bron told her, shrugging on a fluffy white robe.

They ate quietly, their thoughts lingering on the happiness of the previous weekend, rather than the imminent shuttle flight. The weather was too cool for a picnic at their favorite spot among the wildflowers in Founder's Wood, but a long walk along the trails, with a thermos of hot coffee and warm apple turnovers baked by Mary and Rico, had been almost as good.

Planning for their brief time off together, Bron had made sure to reserve tickets for the Monument Theatre Troupe's comedic adaptation of Jack and the Beanstalk, in which a group of giant Zentraedi living on a mountain-top struggled to adapt to life on Earth. Their lives were further complicated by the arrival of a pilfering Terran named Jack at the crashed scout ship they had made their home. In a series of increasingly farcical interactions, the unlikely housemates eventually formed a dysfunctional but close-knit family. It was a light-hearted but honest assessment of the challenges faced by millions of Zentraei stranded on Earth, and Vanessa and Bron had enjoyed it immensely.

They had attended a dinner party the night before, hosted at the home of their friend, Zentraedi fashion designer Arryanna, and her husband, Agar, who managed salvage expeditions by giant Zentraedi into the wastelands. They were joined by other friends, including Arryanna's business partner, Larry Patel, and the tour guide, Cantor, now serving on the Monument City Council. It had felt good to Vanessa to see so many of her civilian acquaintances, all of them talented and civic-minded, before being immersed in military life again.

Finally, after many goodbyes, she and Bron indulged in a stay at Monument's best hotel, which was about the closest equivalent to a luxury hotel to be found on post-apocalyptic Earth. Vanessa pushed her plate back and sighed.

"I'll send you a message when we dock with the Factory Satellite, and another when we reach Armor Seven."

"Thanks. I'll be sure and let you know how things go at the Amnesty and Resettlement hearing today."

"Good. Don't let Rico do all the talking again, alright? I know people love him, but you and Konda have valuable things to add too."

Bron smiled. "I won't. Mary already spoke to us about that. I'll ask Konda a complicated question, and he'll surprise everyone." He looked over at the clock. "Are you sure I shouldn't go with you to the base?"

"There wouldn't be much point," she said, sadly. "You're not authorized to enter the embarkation terminal."

"I'll watch for the launch," he promised, leaning in and kissing her. "I love you, Vee. You'll be in my thoughts, always."

"Bron, I'll never be able to put into words the difference you have made in my life. I love you."

They showered, Bron assisting Vanessa. Her cybernetics could expel water, but they made such a mess doing so that she bathed without them when she could. Bron was gentle and attentive, as he always was. Soon, Vanessa was glad that they had allowed themselves time enough to be playful as well. She treasured every remaining moment.

The embarkation terminal at New Malmstrom Airbase was a metal framed dome, subdivided by movable partitions, and lacking in amenities. The whole structure was temporary. New Malmstrom had expanded significantly since the fall of New Macross, but the space port facilities which were planned to be built at Fokker Field on the far side of Monument next year would be an order of magnitude larger. The impermanence of the building and the closely clustered, bright yellow launch gantries visible in the distance made Vanessa suddenly nervous about the flight, in a way she hadn't been while she was still focused on her farewell with Bron.

When she considered her previous takeoffs, they were hardly reassuring. During her flight to her very first assignment on Armor Two, five years ago, the booster assisted launch of the shuttle had battered and terrified her, and she became sick in the following weightlessness. Her next takeoff had been even more ignominious. The SDF-1, fleeing the Zentraedi invasion of Macross Island on Launch Day, had crashed back to the ground after its untested anti-gravity generators burst their moorings and pulled free of the ship. If the secondary thrusters hadn't functioned as designed, the Robotech War would have ended that afternoon.

On Mars, the SDF-1's attempt to resupply from the abandoned Sarah Base nearly turned into a disaster when a skillful Zentraedi trap once again nullified the anti-gravity generators. The ship's thrusters were too damaged from previous combat to lift it, so Lisa Hayes had to enter the base and overload its reflex furnace just a few hundred meters from the ship to free it from the trap.

There were no equipment problems when the SDF-1 took off from Earth, months later, but given that Vanessa found herself caught up in a riot at the announcement of the exile of the ship and its civilian passengers, that launch was hardly any more auspicious. Doing a job on the bridge of a warship had always kept Vanessa's mind focused away from her anxieties, and she was beginning to wonder if she would make it through the launch, strapped into an acceleration couch, without suffering a panic attack. She was grateful when Lisa arrived to see her off.

The normally formal admiral surprised her with a hug right in the middle of the busy embarkation area. "A-Admiral-" she said, her cheeks turning slightly pink. "I thought you were already at the Factory Satellite, overseeing the construction of the SDF-3."

Lisa stepped away, her smile fading, and brushed her hair back behind her shoulders. Her commanding green eyes were as serious as ever. "There are a few more command staff meetings I'm needed for. The RDF will be inactivating soon, and there are still some details to work out with dividing its personnel and materiel between the Army of the Southern Cross and the Robotech Expeditionary Force."

Vanessa shook her head. "So it's really ending? The RDF?" So many beloved friends and soldiers-in-arms had shed their blood defending Earth under the silver delta of the Robotech Defense Force. She could hardly believe it.

"By the time your training is done, the Army of the Southern Cross will be active and will take charge of all defense of Earth and the Solar System from outside attack." Lisa placed an encouraging hand on Vanessa's shoulder. "I know it's sad, but you'll have a home with us… with the REF, and with an important job to do. You'll be able to continue honoring all of the ones who are no longer with us."

Vanessa nodded, not trusting her voice, as Lisa went on. "I didn't want to miss seeing you off. I appreciate what you're sacrificing to do this. Thank you."

Vanessa blew out a breath. "I'm glad you came. To be honest, I've been getting nervous about the flight. I suppose it's been too long since I was in space."

Lisa nodded. "It's understandable, but you shouldn't worry. The new shuttles are fine. Just concentrate on the fact that you're at least not being shot at."

Vanessa made a face. "I'll try."

"Rick is already up there. Please say hello to him for me."

"Oh? What's he working on?"

It was Lisa's turn to grimace. "I'm sure he'll tell you all about it."

An aide quietly joined them and whispered to Lisa, who nodded in acknowledgement. "I have to go, Vanessa, I just want you to know that we really do need you, and I'm proud of how you have moved forward."

As much as Vanessa missed Bron, she had no doubts about the path laid before humanity.

"It's a new world we're facing, Admiral. One we both had a hand in creating. What other choice do we have?"

The sun was rising, and the nearest shuttle was venting great streams of vapor, shrouding its launch cradle in mist. There were six of the bulky, delta-winged craft readying to blast off, when the three-sectioned tram arrived to pick up the waiting passengers. There were only about three dozen in the group; five of the shuttles were carrying cargo to the construction projects at the Factory Satellite. Vanessa hefted her single small luggage and put it on the baggage rack of the open-sided vehicle, then stepped aboard. It had just jerked into motion when she heard a voice cry out and she craned her neck to see a young woman in a yellow and red UN Spacy uniform running out of the terminal. The shorter, brown-haired woman was dragging her own wheeled luggage and waving wildly with her free hand.

"Hey, wait! Wait!"

Vanessa turned and called to the driver. "We need to stop!"

The tram picked up speed, and their pursuer pushed herself to catch up.

"Driver, stop!" Vanessa yelled.

The woman nearly had her hand around the rear strut of the tram when her luggage bounced on the ground and turned sideways in her grip. She stumbled and hit the ground with a yelp. The tram abruptly squealed to a stop, nearly tossing Vanessa and the other passengers to the deck. Vanessa hopped off and went to help the groaning officer, who was on her hands and knees. The woman took the offered hand, saw the artificial blue fingers, and looked up in surprise.

"Oh!"

She had soft features, a small, round nose, pale blue eyes, and curly hair. She and Vanessa shared a moment of recognition.

"L-Lieutenant Commander Leeds!"

Vanessa helped her to her feet. "May?"

The younger woman saluted. "Yes ma'am."

Vanessa returned the gesture, still unused to being saluted. She had never been in command of a unit. "Let me help you get aboard, Lieutenant."

"Oh, no, Commander, I can get it," she insisted, retrieving her luggage and adding it to the rack. They took their places on the tram, and it raced off across the acres of concrete toward the shuttle gantry.

"Are you part of the Command Track program too, Allison?" Vanessa asked. They were not close friends, but she had served with Allison May on the SDF-1 during the war. Allison had been an ensign at the time, part of a group of new recruits from the refugee civilian population of Macross Island. She and two other women had directed the energy fields of the ship's Pin-Point Barrier system, and had occasionally taken off-shifts at Sammie or Kim's stations on the bridge. Vanessa knew them a little better, because her role as sensor officer necessitated that she coordinate with the barrier operators to intercept incoming attacks.

May nodded nervously, holding onto one of the tram's poles with both hands. "I'm in the program. I think I must have been in the flight training cohort before yours."

Vanessa's flight training had been delayed by her recovery and her duties planning the SDF-1 memorial, not to mention the inquiry into Colonel Streight's coup. As some officers did not pass muster during the training on Earth, a single group of command candidates would travel to orbit for the next phase of training. Vanessa gave May what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Well, it's nice to see a familiar face."

There was very little time to talk during the embarkation. The preparations lacked the days long inspections and equipment checks of a twentieth century shuttle launch, but the launch window kept everyone on a rigid schedule and the process was far faster and more formal than a civilian airline embarkation.

Vanessa, May, and the other passengers rode a large lift up the launch gantry to the hatch of the passenger compartment. Then, in smaller groups, they rode a narrower lift down the main vertical shaft of the shuttle to their heavily cushioned and reinforced seats, where attendants from the ground crew strapped them into five point harnesses.

The only break in the business-like atmosphere came after the attendant checked their restraints, when the pilot briefly spoke over the PA.

"… unfortunately, there will be no meal service on this flight. Zero-g sickness bags are stored in the back of the seat in front of you… try not to need them."

The speakers gave a low chirp, and the announcement cut off. With a series of dry clacks, the seats all unlocked and their gimbal mounts whined, swinging them and the passengers into a horizontal position for the launch. Vanessa gripped her arm rests tightly, reminding herself not to destroy the one on the right with the superhuman strength of her cybernetic hand. There was a slight shudder, and the seats locked solidly into place. The ground crew made one last check that the seats were all secured, and then exited the shuttle. When the PA pulsed the final warning for launch, Vanessa glanced over at May, who was in the seat next to hers. The lieutenant was pale and sweating, and looked ashamed when they made eye contact.

"Some veritech pilot I am, getting this nervous over a shuttle flight," she bit out. "God, what if I get sick?"

Vanessa was hardly doing much better, but felt obligated to encourage her as best she could. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Being a passenger isn't the same as piloting, you know that. You've been through the war, May. Nobody is going to look down on you."

A rumble passed through the entire two hundred foot height of the shuttle as its engines began to spin up.

"Oooh, Pocky always handled this sort of thing better," May muttered, and then she winced, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"I heard about Freda," Vanessa said sympathetically. "She was a good crew mate."

Ensigns Allison May, Freda 'Pocky' Pauli, and Hitomi Panapp were not as notorious as the 'Terrible Trio,' formed by Vanessa, Sammie Porter and Kim Young on the bridge of the SDF-1, but the three barrier operators had been a close-knit team. Vanessa remembered Freda as a serious minded woman with long hair the color of honey, which she had been a little jealous of.

Freda's one indulgence on duty had been a box of Pocky that she kept at her station in Barrier Control. During the war, when Vanessa and then-Captain Gloval visited Barrier Control in the lead-up to Operation Blitzkrieg, Freda had tried to hastily tuck away her treat box and ended up spilling half of its contents across the deck at the captain's feet. Kindly Gloval didn't laugh or become angry, he simply inquired, in his Russian accented English, if he might trouble her for a piece. Blushing terribly, she handed him a crisp stick of strawberry-dipped Pocky.

"Carry on," Gloval had said, with a grave nod. The inspection had continued, but the nickname stuck with Freda. Three years later, the promising young officer had been groundside, fifty yards from the shore of Lake Gloval, when Khyron's warship crashed through the SDF-1's superstructure and exploded.

"Pocky… " May sighed. "She was always the brave one. She never panicked, no matter how many missiles and beams came in at the SDF-1."

"How is Panapp doing?" Vanessa asked, trying to keep May's thoughts off of the shuttle launch. The tempo of the engines was increasing with each second.

"She went to Tokyo. She's part of Doctor Lang's Robotech Research Group now… some kind of classified work on new barrier technology. I miss them both, and - yahhhh!"

Vanessa felt the weight of a giant Zentraedi's hand press down on her as the shuttle engines fired and lifted them into the sky. Vanessa, May, and the other passengers were brute-forced into orbit by the craft's powerful thrusters. After the first shock, she found that her experiences of the last year had toughened her considerably. The pressure was uncomfortable, but tolerable, as the view from the porthole faded from bright blue towards black. Vanessa could just see the fiery white streak left by the path of one of the other five shuttles. May groaned next to her, and she moved her hand far enough over on the arm rest to take May's. She gave the woman's cold hand a squeeze.

"We're going to be fine, May," she said, managing to make herself heard over the roar of the thrusters. "You're going to make them both proud."

Earth, now far behind the shuttle, was a jeweled marble, one that had lost much of the blue and green luster that Vanessa remembered from her years on the SDF-1. Her world was scarred forever, much like herself. She counted herself lucky that her own recovery would not last for generations. Her initial destination now loomed close. The Factory Satellite was the largest artificial object in the Solar System, dwarfing even the five hundred kilometers diameter of Supreme Commander Dolza's mobile headquarters, which had met its fate under a barrage of reflex warheads launched by the SDF-1. The Factory Satellite's size put it in the same astronomical category as Earth's moon, though it lacked its overall diameter and mass, and occupied a much further orbit from Earth. The station's scale, even as a prize of war, was a sobering reminder of the power and majesty of the Masters' empire.

'Like a monstrous radish, attached by narrow tendrils to a number of smaller appendages,' Vanessa had heard the Satellite described by one observer. To her it looked like nothing so much as a bunch of connected, misshapen lumps of reddish clay. From Earth, it was a pearlescent cluster of soap bubbles racing across the night sky, faintly visible as a pale ghost even during the day. As it grew nearer, she could see the black equatorial trenches and countless cavities cut by mining operations directly into the repurposed asteroids, filled in with enough machinery, storage, living quarters, and hollowed out dry docks to raise entire mountain ranges of metal back on Earth. Across the surface were glowing veins of gold, created by millions of interior lit observation ports, launch bays, and domes.

The convoy of UN Spacy shuttles passed one of Earth's few remaining Oberth class destroyers, the sleek, dagger shape reflecting blue in the starlight. Next they crossed a picket line of deep green Zentraedi frigates, and then endured a close flyby of veritech Valkyries before lining up for their final approach.

The bay the shuttle convoy landed in was not behind the mile wide hatch that would open for the great Nupetiet Vergnitzs class flagships of the Zentraedi armada, nor would any of the passengers and flight crew see the keel of the SDF-3, almost hidden by the firefly winking of swarming zero-g construction pods and EVA-suited engineers in the colossal interior space; a cavern large enough to contain an ocean. Nevertheless, the secondary shuttle bay, one of endless thousands dotting the equatorial trench, was scaled to Zentraedi sizes, and staggered the imagination all on its own. After the landing, the shutting of the hatch, itself weighing in at hundreds of thousands tons, and the repressurization of the bay, Vanessa and May disembarked via a movable stairway that had been wheeled up to the shuttle.

They reached the deck before the disorientation hit Vanessa, distracted as she was by the other passengers, the nearby shuttles, and the hum of service vehicles and flat-bedded cargo conveyors as big as double wide semi-trailers. First it was the realization that the dome in the distance was a Zentraedi drop ship, of the same type as one that had been converted into an entire Terran-scaled shopping center back in Monument city. That told her that the shapes silhouetted in front of its pale gray hull were giant-sized Zentraedi crew, which meant the ceiling of this bay… She stopped and craned her neck up, up, up, and felt a wave of vertigo, because she knew the metal-plated ceiling, with its blue lighting panels dim and pale as witch-fire, must be three hundred meters above her.

The bay might actually be larger than the hold on the SDF-1 where Macross city had been rebuilt after its ill-fated trip beyond Pluto's orbit, but it was close enough, giving the feeling of being outside, and yet being bounded by a metal sky. For a moment, Vanessa felt the stir of the satellite's air recyclers, and she remembered the constant breeze on the main street of Macross, where sometimes she, Sammie, and Kim could convince Lisa to join them at 'Variations' for a cup of coffee after a long bridge shift. Further ahead would be the amphitheater, resounding with music and light, where Minmei achieved super-stardom. Off to the left, the bass rumble of the Bamboo House dance club, where she spent her first afternoon with Bron and the others. Above, a crisscross of elevated roadways, foot bridges, and people movers, interconnecting the city's upper tiers. To the right, in the irregular cliff of metal forming the wall of the hold, a hatch, leading to the primary crew quarters - the quarters she shared with Sammie and Kim for those alternately terrible and wonderful years. Vanessa stopped and shut her eye. For a moment she could imagine, for a moment she felt like -

"You ok?" May asked, catching Vanessa's upper arm and steadying her as she swayed.

"Yeah…" Vanessa replied, shaking herself. "It's… I haven't been in a place that felt like this since the SDF-1. For a moment, it felt like home…"

Vanessa was unprepared for the reminder, and the grief and sense of loss rose up sharply within her. May nodded.

"It comes on you, at times you don't expect, doesn't it?"

"Yes." Vanessa sighed, and squared her shoulders. "But we learn to continue on."

The waiting area in the launch bay was even more simplistic than the embarkation center at New Malmstrom. There was no point in going all the way to the satellite's interior and the converted, micronian scaled facilities to wait for the shuttle that would take them to Armor Seven to be readied, so the passengers were provided a sectioned off area with seating, portable toilets, and a station with cold drinks, coffee, and ration bars. Vanessa, searching for a distraction after the uncomfortable feelings the launch bay had brought forward in her, joined a gaggle of other personnel who went to examine some of the small craft being serviced in the bay.

To her surprise, she saw an unfamiliar type of veritech being readied for takeoff by a ground crew, and a familiar officer overseeing the operation. Vanessa made her way to the yellow line that marked the edge of the veritech's security cordon, called out past the laser rifle wielding master-at-arms stationed there, and waved.

"Admiral Hunter!"

Rear Admiral Rick Hunter turned towards her and handed off the data tablet he had been examining to an aide. She saw an uncharacteristically hard look in his eyes. The younger man carried himself with authority as he approached, although Vanessa thought his new black uniform coat looked a bit loose across the shoulders. The other onlookers around her quickly made themselves scarce, and she saluted.

"Lieutenant Commander Leeds," Hunter said, lowering his hand. "Lisa told me I might run into you up here. Congratulations on joining the combat aviation community."

"Thank you, Admiral," she replied, not quite sure if there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Admiral Hayes didn't tell me what you were doing in orbit. Is this your veritech?"

Hunter looked over his shoulder at the sleek craft with a smile that didn't look entirely sincere. "Kind of. Rockwell Bell's new fleet defense veritech… or it will be. The YF-4 'Lightning.' It's supposed to be our next generation fighter for the Pioneer Mission."

The veritech was all rakish lines, flared wings and fins, with a flattened central hull and advanced looking, muscular, outboard thruster pods. Vanessa could see powerful integrated beam cannons and aerodynamically conforming, recessed missile bays. The pre-production prototype was glossy white with red panels and a gold nose cone.

"It certainly looks impressive," she noted with a nod.

"It can outfly and outfight an augmented Valkyrie. Faster, more maneuverable, and better armed. But the Lightning is having some… teething troubles. It's my job to make sure the problems are dealt with and to get the program back on track. The prototype is about to take off for Armor Seven to carry out flight trials under varying conditions. In fact, I'll be on the same shuttle you're taking."

Vanessa blinked. "You mean you're not piloting it over there yourself?"

Rick gave that same smile, a bitter, brittle smile, she saw now.

"Didn't you know, Vanessa? When you're wearing one of these, you travel by shuttle, not veritech." He hooked his thumb behind the starched lapel of his new uniform coat, then removed it with an annoyed flick.

Vanessa wasn't sure how to respond to the undertone of anger that thickened Rick's words, and was spared any further awkwardness when a Spacy pilot broke away from his conversation with the ground crew chief and approached them. The pilot was already wearing his white, red, and gold flight suit, holding his helmet tucked under his arm. He was clean shaven, with solid black hair, closely cropped, in spite of the fad for long hair that ace Max Sterling had inspired among the newest recruits for the Valkyrie air wings. He smiled easily, contrasting strongly with Rick's tightly restrained resentment.

"The YF-4 is ready for launch, sir."

"Good," the admiral replied. "The heavy equipment modules are already loaded on the shuttle. As soon as the ground crew pack their gear and embark, we'll pick up the whole operation and move over to Armor Seven."

The matter settled, the newcomer focused on Vanessa.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or would this be the Survivor?" he asked, his face lighting up.

Vanessa controlled her expression. She still didn't like being called by that name, but complaining about it had never gotten her anywhere.

"They do not," Rick answered, frowning. "This is Lieutenant Commander Vanessa Leeds. And this, Commander, is Lieutenant Jose Reyes. He's on detached duty from One-nine-five Squadron. One of our more annoying test pilots."

"That's alright, Admiral," Vanessa replied. "I'm sure you can attest that I have a lot of experience with annoying veritech pilots." Vanessa couldn't keep a small smile off of her face. Rick gave her a betrayed look, and Reyes chuckled.

"So, Commander, can I expect to see you out there some time?" he asked, gesturing towards the exterior of the satellite. "You're one of the Tangs, right?"

She looked back and forth between the two men in confusion. Rick was wincing, and Reyes was smirking.

"Tangs…?"

"Reyes," Rick warned.

"Yeah, you know, instant pilots, like that old instant drink mix." Reyes explained unashamedly. "Just add water."

"Reyes, I expect you to apologize to Commander Leeds," Rick said, scowling.

"Hey, relax, I didn't mean anything by it, sir. It is what it is. No hard feelings, right?" he asked Vanessa, palm upturned.

"It's… it's not a big deal, Admiral," Vanessa said, uncomfortably. "I think I understand what he meant."

Rick looked surprised. "Well, if you're sure… We'd all better get ready for launch."

"Permission to open up the throttle and go on ahead to Armor Seven, after we take off, sir?" Reyes asked, grinning. "It'd be good to get a baseline for engine performance."

"Fine, just see that you get the Lightning there in one piece," Rick said, coldly. "You're both dismissed."

"Everything ok with the admiral, ma'am?" May asked, having stood at a discrete distance until Vanessa rejoined her. "You don't look so good."

"I'll be fine." Vanessa looked back over her shoulder. Reyes was smiling up at the Lightning, tracing his gloved fingertips along its nose cone. Rick was stalking toward the shuttles, fists clenched. "I just learned we may have to work even harder to prove ourselves than I thought."

Next time… Interlude I: Epistolary Romance…