Macross 30: Voices Across The Galaxy

Interlude 2: Midnight Contemplations

Alto wasn't entirely surprised when the door to his new quarters on the Gefion opened and in waltzed Sheryl. It only took her a step or two more to reach Alto on his bed; the Gefion, being a frigate, had much smaller quarters than on something like the Macross Quarter. But more than just the fact that Sheryl had come into his room this late at night was the clothes she was wearing. Aisha had said that she would lend Sheryl some of her clothes but Aisha was a size or two smaller than the Galactic Fairy, meaning that the tank top and shorts Sheryl was wearing were pretty tight on her figure, especially clear as she was climbing up onto his bed to sit next to him.

"How do I look?" she asked, slightly flirtatiously.

"You look good in pretty much anything."

"How nicely non-specific."

"Then... you look as good as you probably feel after getting a hot shower?"

Sheryl made a noise that was halfway between a sigh and a moan of pleasure.

"You have no idea. Well, you probably do. After three days of camping your hair was a total rat's nest."

"I thought you said camp life with me was fun?" asked Alto, a slight grin on his lips, which Sheryl returned.

"It was... right up until we started needing a real shower instead of dumping water from the local river over our heads."

Sheryl scooted up closer to Alto, resting her head on his shoulder. Alto couldn't help but wonder, "When did Sheryl and I get this close? A year ago I would have been freaking out if she'd gotten this close to me..."

"Alto..." Sheryl said, breaking his train of thought, "Do you think it's true? What they told us about being gone for a year?"

"All the clocks on this ship tell the same story. Although I'm still not sure I buy that we hit a Fold Fault bad enough that we missed twelve months. But then there's that Roy Focker guy..."

"You think it's really him?"

"It certainly looks and sounds like the guy I've seen in class before. With communications out it's impossible to completely verify that these people belong to SMS as well but I think if they were trying to trick us, why go for something crazy like 'Roy Focker is back from the dead because of time travel?' Well... we can talk more about it in the morning. It's almost midnight."

"OK then!" said Sheryl, shifting her weight enough that she pushed Alto down flat onto the bed.

"Sheryl!"

"What? I don't remember anyone saying we had to stay locked up in our rooms for the night," she said, coyly.

"I get the feeling that sleep isn't exactly what you had in mind."

"Oh? You think you know me well enough to read my mind? Maybe I just wanted something warm to cuddle up to; It's cold on this ship after being outside for three days."

Matching actions to words, Sheryl reached over to the blanket at the foot of the bed and pulled it up and over the two of them. Alto knew that there was no use fighting it at this point, as Sheryl's arm draped over his chest, the rest of her body pressing into his side.

"Oyasumi, Sheryl."

"Oyasumi... Princess" she replied, using the nickname that usually drove Alto up the wall. And then she did something he hadn't quite been expecting; she leaned her head forward and kissed him on the cheek.

Alto once again wondered, this time with a smile on his face, just when had he and Sheryl gotten so comfortable with each other.

Elsewhere on the Gefion, Alto and Sheryl weren't the only ones being night owls.

Roy was still in the lounge, sitting next to one of the expansive windows that looked out on the strange landscape of Ouroboros and its floating islands, a glass of bourbon on the rocks in his hand.

He knew he probably shouldn't be drinking this late; anti-hangover pills could only do so much, especially when you don't get as much sleep as you should. He couldn't help it though; too many thoughts had been swirling around in his brain the last few nights, mainly centering on wether or not he was ever going to get home... and wether he'd ever see any of his friends again. Friends like Hikaru and others who were much closer than that... like Claudia.

Roy wasn't going to pretend he hadn't checked out both Aisha and Sheryl at least once but when he had, the thought of beautiful women had just segued into thinking about Claudia. If she was still alive, she'd have to be in her mid-70s by now. If it turned out there wasn't any way to send him back to his own time (a part of him still was having trouble believing this time travel stuff despite the evidence all around him), should he go and look her up? He had dipped into the Gefion's history files just a bit and he knew that the Macross had survived the war, so it was reasonable to assume most of the crew had survived as well. But if he did go and see her, would the shock be too much? Did he even have any right walking back into her life, into any of his friends and loved one's lives after being gone for half-a-century? And what would even be the point? 'Hey there, Claudia, I'm back! On the off-chance you didn't get married or whatever, let's spend your twilight years together!'

Roy stared deep into the amber liquid floating in the glass he held. One of the ice cubes shifted with a slight clink. Roy grunted and took a deep pull, gasping slightly as the liquor burned its way down his throat.

She probably was married by now, with a gaggle of kids, grandkids and even some great-grandkids. In other words, a life lived without him.

Roy took another pull from the glass, the last of the bourbon disappearing down his throat. The burn from swallowing that much liquor brought some clarity this time. If he kept worrying about this, he was just going to turn into a wreck that wouldn't be able to fly a crop duster, much less a variable fighter. He'd start figuring it out as soon as they told him they couldn't send him back. Hell, with all this time travel chicanery, maybe Claudia would show up here on Ouroboros. Roy smiled at the thought, watching as another one of those floating islands drifted into view.

"Betcha no guy's ever taken you on a date to an island in the sky, eh?" he said.