Home
By Karen Hart
Disclaimer: In no way do I own any part of the Xenosaga series, nor I make any money from this or other fanfictions. I write these stories for love of the game(s), nothing more.
It's amazing how different two spaceports can be, MOMO realizes as she steps off the transport. She recalls Second Miltia's as a sprawling, space-wasting place. As a contrast, Fifth Jerusalem's is sleek and compact. She finds herself looking at the windows, and spots three other S.O.C.E. owned ships, and a Hamilton, obscured slightly by the bend. There are no private or commercial crafts, here—it's all company-owned.
She starts when she feels a hand on her shoulder, though she knows who it is. "You're holding everyone up," her mother says, and MOMO knows it's a joke: aside from the pilot, they're the only ones on board. She smiles a bit sheepishly, and they make their way towards customs. It turns out be a simple process, perhaps because her mother is famous. Either way, she's relieved. She's heard horror stories about it in the past.
The customs agent wishes them well, and they head purposefully towards one of the shuttle bays. They don't bother to bring any of their baggage with them—that'll all be delivered to their apartment, later. There's a vehicle waiting for them, unmanned and Subcommittee-owned, and they board it with little fuss. They say little to each other during the ride, both of them having settled into thickly cushioned seats, though neither of them really minds. They enjoy this new silence.
Something like fifteen or twenty minutes later, the vehicle stops and the hatch opens automatically, with a hiss and a thunk that shakes them both from their thoughts. "We're here," Juli says, because it seems necessary to say something at this point, even if it's obvious and MOMO nods with an enthusiasm that makes her limbs shake imperceptibly. The silence descends on them once again.
From there it's another short walk and a lift ride to the apartment—their apartment, MOMO corrects herself—and soon they're both standing in front of a nondescript blue door. Juli swipes her keycard over the lock strip, presses a few buttons (politeness prevents MOMO from looking at which ones, though she's pretty sure she'll know soon enough) and the door slides open, this one also with a hiss.
The first thing MOMO notices when she steps into her new home (the shiver hasn't stopped) is a vase with white Asiatic lilies, all of them lilted, most without their petals. Juli sets her keycard on the same table to the vase is on, and bends down to pick up the ones that have fallen on the floor. MOMO retrieves the ones on the table. "I'll have to replace these soon," her mother comments with a nervous sort of ease.
MOMO looks at the brown-edged petals in her hands. "Why don't you just get synthetic ones? Wouldn't they last longer?" For some reason, this gets a smile and a shrug from Juli, who walks further into the apartment with the vase. There's a sound of running water and some splashing. A couple minutes later, she gets a reply.
"I think," Juli draws out the think, "it's because they calm me down. It's nice to see something living when I come home, at least for a little while." By this time MOMO's in the kitchen with her, standing a few feet away and looking at her mother with something that wavers between hope and apprehension. She's still a little amazed that things have been going so well; naturally, she's expecting something to go wrong. It's human nature, after all.
Juli shakes her head and smiles at MOMO before closing her eyes and leaning against the edge of the sink with a profound sigh. "Don't worry. I'm sure this'll all work out." She pushes herself upright and makes an offhand gesture somewhere to her right, past the narrow counter that separates the kitchen from the living room. "Now, you might as well have a look around, since you'll be staying here a while." At that, MOMO starts to turn in the direction Juli's just indicated, and a gasp gets strangled somewhere in her throat. There's a wide, clear window like the ones where they docked, only this one is filled by the view of Fifth Jerusalem, blue-green and white and seeming to glow, even though MOMO knows perfectly well the planet doesn't generate its own light. Though she's seen planets before, it's still a spectacular view.
"It's beautiful," she breathes, though her voice squeaks a bit in that way it does when she's in awe. She almost doesn't hear her mother say it's a perk, and walks toward the window, pressing her hands and face against the glass when she reaches it. She pulls back a moment later and apologizes sheepishly when she realizes her breath is causing streaks in the glass.
"Don't worry about it," Juli assures her daughter. "The environmental bugs will take care of that. Now, let's figure out where you'll be sleeping."