500 years had passed her by. Time moved on but her memory and image was immortalized in the form of someone not much older than himself. Her mind was a study of the past, of a way of life that was rather foreign to him. It was odd how open she was to him.
Could it be the way her people generally behaved?
Their initial meeting was savage and unpleasant, just like the wilderness from the world beneath them. Trust was a sketchy thing to someone who had spent her life living by morals, cultures and art. She perceived the world around her in a manner that was rather unique.
"The air is clean." She spoke in a voice that was heavily accented. She was excited, was no one else in the room so the Captain took the initiative to engage himself in a conversation with her.
It was not everyday a person from the world above would get the chance to converse with a native from the wilderness.
"Of course," The Captain replied. "We have to keep it sterile so that no one gets infected."
"Infected?" The woman echoed.
"Against the old world viruses. You know? Like a cold?" The captain said.
"That's why, the air is clean." The woman repeated herself, looking at the captain with mischievous green eyes. "Extremely clean. Sterile clean in fact. Just like your world."
The captain waited patiently for the woman to continue.
"To learn how to walk, you must learn how to fall." The woman grinned. "But your people...they have yet to learn how to fall. They do not know how it feels to scrape their knees against dirt gravel when they're trying to take their baby steps. Oh, pardon me but I do believe that even the gravel of your roads are sterile and clean, barren of dirt?"
She was beating around the bush but the woman had a point and the Captain agreed with her point.
"Sadly. That's how we are."
The woman attempted to find a single hint of offense within the captain's eyes but like the rest of the Calvary's crew, she found none.
The people of Cocoon were sheltered but they were ready to admit their flaws.
Her people were hunters, dwellers of a brutal world mother nature could ever offer but they were too proud to admit their flaws, too proud to put their weapons down.
Cocoon in all their cowardly glory was still thriving. Gran Pulse was a barren land of broken dreams, just like Oerba Yun Fang.
xXx
Captain Rygdea was a bit shifty when his best friend handed his blaze edge over to the tribal princess before him.
"Hold on to this." Cid instructed.
"You're so willing to trust a barbarian." Fang snatched the strange weapon. Her green eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to decipher the Cocoonian text written along the edge of the bladed sector. "...What the hell is this? A blade? A gun? Whatever. You're giving me a weapon that I cannot operate."
"If you wanted me dead, I don't think you really need that weapon to put and end to my life." Cid watched as the Pulsian native gripped onto his blaze saber.
"True." The woman replied. "I'll return this back to you the moment I find Vanille."
"...Return it back to me only after finding Vanille?" Cid was amused. "My instructions were for you to hold onto it until you're convinced that my crew isn't going to stab you in the back. We got better backs to stab. Your back isn't on any one of our hit list."
"We shall see." Fang strutted off.
The blaze saber found it's way back to Cid's desk that night.
xXx
Fang felt a bit claustrophobic when she was placed in a room without windows. She understood the reasoning behind her quarters being in such a compromising position. Cid was making a gamble by keeping her on board the Lindblum. Fang's attire was extremely obvious and if any air craft passing by the Lindblum were to spot her, the whole entire crew was going to be in grave danger.
Fang tried not to complain but after a week, she felt like a caged animal. A prisoner.
"Give me a uniform."
The guard stared at her as if she had just spoken in her native Oerbian dialect.
"What?" Fang crossed her arms. "You're acting as if I just told you to give me a blow job of some sort. Get me a freaking uniform."
The guard naturally alerted his superior about the Pulsian's demands.
"Ryg, go tend to that woman." Cid muttered, completely buried in paperwork.
The Brigadier General had completely missed the smirk his best friend had worn on his face when the order was issued out. 20 minutes later, Oerba Yun Fang stumbled into his office, looking extremely trapped in Nabaat's form fitting uniform. Cid Raines couldn't deny that Nabaat's uniform instantly granted the pulsian with a dominating air of misplaced elegance. She reminded him of a vase of flowers Nabaat would always keep in her office.
The flowers were pretty but they did not belong in those tall crystal vases.
Fang belonged in Gran Pulse. Cid wanted to return her to the place where she rightfully belonged although a tiny voice in his head questioned how effective it was to return a flower back to the soil when it had already been pulled out from the earth's embrace.
Death...a flower that had been pulled out from the earth...would eventually die. Even if you return it back to the Earth itself. That's why people place cut flowers in a vase of water and sugar, so that they can live a bit longer.
Fang, Cid decided, was a rare bloom he would keep.