Macross Fan Fiction ❯ Robotech: Beneath a steel sky ❯ Chapter 13 - Off Duty ( Chapter 13 )

---- Chapter 13 ---- Off-Duty...

 

Somewhere in Diamond Back District covered by a holographic-sky projecting "dusk”, far away from the battlefront and its waves of sorrows, lost hope and death. In one of the Veritech Barracks deep within safety...

 

Lt. Chris Caldwell was finally off-duty and in his quarter, alone. He was alone in the dark with his mind lost in the madness of the recent flight. Chris was somewhat mentally distorted and lost in his own memories. But it was the blazing rain of death fired upon his squadmates that left his soul tormented. The blazing rain of death that was every soldiers' and pilots' worst nightmare - Friendly Fire…

Killed-in-action by friendly fire, his commander, Major Evans, and several other comrades of his and other squadrons suffered immediate death as their Valkyries tried to pursue the horde of “Invid-Arc-Shardlings” that were about to wreck havoc upon the relocating fleet. Dreadful echos of voices flooded the commline as beams and other explosions violently tore their fighters and the engaging “Invids” apart. But it was the hatred of that one female voice that gave the order of death - ““To all artillery units of the Chinese Air Force…fire”” That one voice - that one female voice that had the command over all units… - that was affecting him as each second passed by.

 

Unknown of what happened to the other pilots whose deaths were not confirmed, it became clear to him that he was more likely the only survivor after he once again boarded the SDF-1. He wondered what he was supposed to do now for it was likely that no other unit besides him noticed what truly happened within the chaos. His own Valkyrie suffered minor hits to its secondary systems during the barrage, including its identification signal, but he was able to call out for cease-fire.

 

Chris rubbed his face several times. So many deaths within his and other squadrons like never before… But this time, it was not fate that tried to mess up his life.

 

How could such Fleet Commander have ordered artillery fire… and how could others have fired upon them without friend-or-foe authentication?

 

But just as he asked himself questions over questions, a sound rang somewhere in his room, waking him up from his misery. Again, the sound rang, gaining more of his attention. Weary and tired at the same time, he slowly got up and walked to the phone and picked it up.

“2nd Lieu - Lieutenant Caldwell here.“

 

A rough voice spoke back to him, “”Greeting, Lt. Caldwell…””, the voice started to sound garbled slightly, but it was still understandable, “”This is Major Bronco, currently stationed on board the SDF-1. And I have an assignment for you.””

Assignment?

“Sir?”, he replied and rubbed his forehead. An assignment already?

 

Chris had no idea why this `Major guy' was calling him - perhaps wanting to talk about the event of deaths… Eventually some military investigation unit looking for somebody to blame.

“”Lieutenant, we do not have much time to talk and I understand that you are exhausted from your recent flight. However Lieutenant, the situation is serious. My subordinate-in-command, Lt.Cmdr. Vikksdottir, and I are in charge of the first fleet defending division, the `Marauder Gauntlets', which consists of both male and female rookie pilots. Due to our duties needed elsewhere, these pilots require a commander with leadership capabilities and the knowledge for intermediate training - and of course, in flight status. For the needed task, I am therefore to perform an unusual deed””, the Major explained… but somehow sounding as if that was `just' the tip of the iceberg, “”2nd Lieutenant Chris Caldwell - With immediate cause, I am proud to announce that you are promoted to 1st Lieutenant of the Robotech Defense Force and will be transferred to the `Marauder Gauntlets' Division as the commander in chief of the rookies with all privileges until further notice. For the cause of this promotion, your primary Valkyrie will be refitted to class P - the `Paladin'.””

 

“…” - Bitterness seemed written upon his face, but it was the confusing in his mind that was starting to give him a headache.

“”Heads up, 1st Lieutenant. I understand this raging battle against the alien fleet is cumbersome. Fleet command has transferred me a roster with possible talents for this task, but I've been unable to contact the others. We do not need to worry about this any more.””

 

“Y-Yes sir. Thank you… sir… but.- ”

“”At the beginning of your next shift, you are to relocate yourself to the `Majestica' and contact Lt.Cmdr. Vikksdottir or the operatives of the bridge. Her rank status, of course, is still superior - yet, she is informed to `step back' and willing to support your needs and requests at any times. I do not know much about her, but her records shows she's a very highly experienced pilot. I'm sure you can count on her any time. Badges and stripes will be handed as soon as you dock aboard the destroyer vessel. I apologize for not having you promoted through the traditional Navy Ceremonial Codex, yet this is `official'. I apologize again but I advise to you perform the transfer the `Majestica' within the next hour. That is all, Lieutenant. Good luck and good hunting.””

 

Bronco was not understanding Chris' silent plead…

“Thank you, sir, I will do as ordered”, Chris replied back and laid the phone - his hand still held it tightly. Though he wanted to say something, it was already too late. Now the RDF wanted to neglect his dying squadron, not even giving him the time for feeling sorrow upon his lost friends. But then, Chris noticed something…

Something was not right. Major Bronco just said that the reported losses were caused by the enemy - and not by the accident of the Fleet Commander. Once again, his mind played him that moment of terror… with the voice that gave the order.

He loosened his grip from the phone and stared upon it.

 

What was going on now?

Death tolls statistics of an elite squadron bursting in single day, a sudden promotion for being the last survivor and now… Friendly-Fire of the commanding fleet officer being swept under a blanket of silence. There was not enough time to form a formal report, but for sure, absolutely nothing was going right…

 

 

Suddenly, the phone rang again, but this time with a totally different tone, an internal call from the lobby of the barracks. The operative at the lobby said that somebody wished to meet him and to come down to the main entrance. He was not sure who could be awaiting him, since he was awaiting nobody. His last Valkyrie sortie was not even an hour ago, despite even having the chance to rest.

Whoever it was, he needed some time to think…

Deciding to see who it was, Chris picked up the crutch to support his walk, left his quarters and entered the elevator. His ride downwards was just as boring as he stared at the ceiling of his room. Feeling a short bump, he woke up out of his daydreaming and exited the lift. Just ahead, many pilots from other squadrons were down at the main lobby of the barracks. As he entered the lobby, he was notice by somebody else who knew him, who then wove his hand towards him and saluted.

 

"Hey Caldwell? Are you alright?", the officer of another squadron greeted, "Where are you men? I haven't seen any of them around here."

 

Time seemed to have paused as his thoughts wandered around the secrecy of the deaths caused by the Fleet Commander - whoever that truly was - since his commander usually either was Major Evans or Field Commander Roy Fokker.

Have not anybody even notice that he was perhaps the last survivor of the `Spector Rangers'?

Perhaps the bad news has not been spread yet…

But he insisted to keep quiet.

 

"Not sure really, I was called down here... ",.he replied, sounding very confused. Another pilot joined them.

" You're off-duty, too?", asking curiously. Chris, who was rather annoyed about the question, answered, "Yeah, I am...".

He hated to say that since he insisted to rather be alone and it was for sure that he was going to be asked about something like heading out into the city - a useless attempt to try to forget about this whole war going on. The first man continued, speaking of what Chris actually expected:

"Well", then threw his hand softly to the side, as if he were presenting his group of buddies like a prize on a gameshow, "the guys of my squad are going to head to a new disco... since finally we got some break time... We wanna do some recovering from flying and forget about that slime bag ship and all of this goddamn crap going on and on..."

When Chris heard him say 'disco', one of his eyebrows went higher up... Asking in a confused voice, "'Recovering' by heading to a disco?". The two pilots thought a second, then they both replied, "Uhhh... Yeah". Chris shook his head, refusing to head with them, "Nah. No thanks, guys..." The 2nd squadmate spoke in a begging voice, "Oh come on, Lieutenant. It'll be a blast! I heard a lot of cute ladies heading there - Woooohoooo!", trying to find a way to make him come, the 1st added, " Oww, I can