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CHAPTER 16 – THE LINE OF FIRE
Slowly, Rinoa's weakened body shuffled along down the hall. Her steps were gradual, cautious so as not to lose her footing; each one took significant effort in her malnourished state. Even outfitting herself in the guard's uniform had been a challenge. Fortunately, for however frail her body presently was, the power she'd inherited from Edea had remained every bit as potent. A generous amount of mental influence had done the trick on her handlers; they'd obediently shed their gear before falling into a sleep as deep and dark as the one she'd awakened from. And yet, her mind had been anything but sound for the duration. Nor was it even her own.
Ultimecia had resigned herself to wait for however long. Though unable to move or respond in any capacity, she could still hear everything around her at all times. And for those long periods of solitude over the last two months, there had had been a veritable treasure trove of memories buried in the girl's subconscious to peruse, much to her repeated protest. She'd piped down by the end of the first week, once it became clear how futile her efforts were. Most had been worthless for Ultimecia's own ends. A rare few had piqued her interest however, particularly those concerning the girl's relationship with the commandant; more and more, it seemed the unexpected power transferal had been a blessing in disguise.
Not all had gone as planned, to be sure. With the benefit of hindsight, she'd allowed too many mistakes already, all owed to her reckless complacence. History had decreed she would achieve her goal of time compression. Alas, as with many long-enduring stories, there were details which had apparently been overlooked or lost to the ages in its re-tellings.
The idea that another sphere of holy elemental disposition could exist hadn't even occurred to her. It shouldn't have been possible based on Dr. Odine's recorded accounts; only the first ever produced had reportedly retained that facet of Adel's power. Had only she taken the time to examine it first-hand when she'd had the chance in Deling City. The rejuvenation spell conjured by that girl had been real enough to convince her it was the genuine article. Moreover, she never would have expected the prisoners to escape with it the very next day. The sphere's crucial role in awakening Adel from her slumber had ironically made it less of a concern for her; for what reason would she need to worry about losing it when fate had already dictated her plan's success?
Perhaps more puzzling were the discrepancies with the information she'd managed to recover from the SeeD archives. All known records of Balamb Garden's involvement in the second sorceress war ended with the clash at Trabia. Through them, she had learned of their battle strategy, and devised the proper means to counteract it. So too had it been written that the commandant would lead a counterattack aboard Galbadia Garden, and therein lay the biggest deviation: the acting commandant of this time period was supposedly a woman, as Seifer had relayed to her already.
Why had this Squall Leonhart been listed nowhere in the line of succession? Having briefly skimmed over SeeD's early history prior, she'd recalled the name Xu Adrastia attached to the position at this juncture. And indeed, looking over the record again after being forced out of Edea's mind, the name to follow had not been his, either. It appeared she'd assumed wrongly; despite having led the charge against her, he'd been just another foot-soldier in the commandant's immediate circle. But then, through Rinoa's memory, she'd come to realize her intuition had been on the mark all along. Adrastia had fallen in battle that day, and passed on the title to Leonhart, her pre-appointed successor. None of it made sense to her.
Had she inadvertently changed the course of history already? And if so, why was it yet to be reflected in the records from her own time? It made no difference in the present, however. All that mattered now was Leonhart's obvious desperation to see Rinoa well again.
Optimally, the girl's body would have been brought before Ellone and the commandant alone, in a situation insulated from any potential outside intervention. From there, she could have conveniently brought herself out of the coma, and fabricated some excuse to have her sent into Edea's mind in the past, thus saving her the trouble of finding Adel and receiving her power. She ultimately knew things wouldn't turn out that way, however; she'd known it from the moment she'd felt the two of them imposing on her control of Rinoa's mind. And so, she'd needed a fail-safe, a contingency in place to move her original plan along while she was indisposed.
As she stared out the nearby window to the moon beyond, she saw for herself the fruits of Seifer's unwavering loyalty. The long cryo-sleep had given her the opportunity to contact him again without the risk of Rinoa awakening. She'd directed him to move the Lunatic Pandora into position over Tears' Point on the day of her arrival at the base. As a result, the swelling had spread far and wide, encompassing nearly half of the visible surface area. It was enough to momentarily assure her that all was well. Although not precisely as she'd envisioned, the day had come nonetheless.
[You won't get away with this.]
She snorted at the girl's bold statement. Even after months spent confined within her own mind, it seemed her tenacity had yet to be snuffed out completely.
I already have. So it has been written. So it shall be done.
[And so you'll lose. Don't forget how it all turns out in the end.]
Her words, though textureless and unheard in the conventional sense, were still plenty biting. Just as Rinoa's thoughts and memories were Ultimecia's to peruse, so too had the connection allowed the girl a view into her own. She knew far too much to be left alive much longer. Fortunately, that would cease to be a problem within the hour.
Not this time. Nor in any other. And not in this reality, but one in which the hands of fate cannot intervene, nor even exist. And neither will you.
For better or worse, history had indeed unfolded accordingly. But in the end, Ultimecia was confident she would have the last laugh over history. Reinvigorated by the sight of the imminent Lunar Cry, she turned away from the window, and continued shuffling down the hall as quickly as she could manage.
"Those two have got to be nuts," Zell said.
"Aren't we all a little?" the president replied. "When push comes to shove, you'd be surprised how far you'll go for the people you care about."
"You got that right!" Selphie agreed.
Quistis shared their sentiments, but said nothing for the time being. She was too distracted by the technicians all around the Lunar Gate's control center, racing to finalize preparations for the launch. It was all new to her. Who would have believed how far Esthar's once fledgling space program had advanced over the years, much less the means of travel they'd developed? More ludicrous was the impending application they would shortly bear witness to, a means to an end it had never been designed to serve. As the president had insisted repeatedly over the course of their trip across the great plains however, there was no other choice. A glance out the window showed that time was not on their side.
In the distance, the so-called Lunatic Pandora crept across the arid wastes. Its gigantic metal frame glistened in the sunlight, a towering beacon imposing over all its surroundings. Despite its sluggish speed, their transport had only barely managed to outpace it courtesy of Esthar's private express line around the city; they'd driven all through the night, stopping only once to refuel. Closer it drew to its appointed spot. By comparison, the wide ring of generators and statues which comprised Tears' Point were minor specks dotting the earth. Any patches of brush or the occasional tree in the surrounding area might have been sub-atomic.
There was hardly anything else at all in the region. She turned her attention due northwest, back in the direction of the city. There it sat far out on the horizon, with nothing in between to obscure her view. From what the president had told them, there was a legitimate reason for having never expanded further out into the plains. The explanation itself she still had difficulty believing. It flew in the face of everything she'd ever learned from her science lectures about the moon's influence on the planet. At this point however, she was willing to go along with most anything. Clearly not to the extent Fujin and Raijin were, of course. With the station's cannon apparatus now trained to the metal monolith in the distance, their daring deployment would soon be in motion.
She turned back as the elevator dinged again. Out stepped the president's two aides. At their approach, the stark contrast between their attire and his became apparent once more; the casual onlooker would never have guessed who ranked highest among them.
"They're all set to go," Commissioner Seagill said.
"No issues?" the president asked.
"This entire plan of yours is one big issue. I'd feel a lot better about it if Dr. Odine were here to oversee things."
"You and me both. That lousy… of all the times to make a trip to the Lunar Base!"
"You're absolutely positive they'll make it through?" Quistis butted in to the conversation. She'd already asked countless times before on the way to the Lunar Gate, but couldn't help herself.
"Close as I can be," the president humored her. "I used to work aboard the Pandora back in the day. Hell, most of us here did. Its outer shield array is the same kind we've got up on the Lunar Base, so there shouldn't be any problem there."
"And the metal casing itself?"
"At that speed, I'll be amazed if the pods don't put a couple massive dents into it, at least."
"The real question is, are they gonna be safe?" Zell pried.
"Only one way to find out. They understood the risks, and were willing to go along with it. And if that's not a sign of true friendship, I don't know what is."
It's something, that's for sure.
Quistis knew she'd have never had it in her to volunteer for something so potentially dangerous. Even in the event they made it aboard in one piece however, them convincing Seifer to cease his madness was less certain still. And then, she was reminded by Selphie that theirs were not the only fates which lay in the balance.
"I wonder how Irvine's holding up," she said to no one in particular.
"I'm sure he's okay," Quistis assured her. "He knows how to keep his head down."
"Y'know, speaking of friendship, you guys seem like a pretty tight knit unit yourselves," the president observed. He ambled over to the window beside Quistis, his eyes drawn to the Lunatic Pandora in the distance. "Something they drill into you over at Balamb?"
"That's… part of it."
On the face of it, teamwork had always been a critical component of SeeD training. She'd regularly pressed the matter during her brief tenure as an instructor, perhaps even to a fault. But there was more than just that at work here. Even putting aside their childhood history, they'd all grown so much closer in such a short amount of time.
"When you've been through as much as we have together, it's hard not to keep on looking out for each other."
"And this 'Squall' guy you followed all this way… what's he like? Cut from the same cloth?"
"More like the scrap that got torn off," Zell piped up. "Took a while, but someone finally picked him up and stitched him back in place."
"That's… good to hear."
Still, the president kept his attention fixed out the window, not turning to meet their eyes.
"I'll be looking forward to meeting him once this is all over. Ellone's already told me so much."
Quistis raised her eyebrow at the man's peculiar demeanor. She and the others had inquired about Ellone along the way, only to be told she'd been missing for several days. Fujin and Raijin's insistence that they'd arrived with Squall the same day as her disappearance naturally made him a prime suspect. Yet there was no animosity nor resentment she could discern in how the president spoke about him. For Ellone's sake, she hoped appropriate concern had been given to her safety over the course of her stay. But then, she doubted if Squall would have been able to swipe her from under the administration's noses so easily.
"Capsules loaded!" one of the technicians abruptly called out.
"Boosters on standby!" another chipped in. "All systems normal."
"So, we're all set?" the president asked as he turned back around. "Do we have a lock?"
"Sir! Performing final adjustments now!"
"And where are you aiming?" Seagill asked the president.
"Anywhere right around the center ought to do," he shrugged back. "Give us plenty of leeway for a near-miss. We'll fire them one after the other. With any luck, they'll both land on the same floor. The girl with the eye-patch is gonna need someone to do the talking for her, after all."
I think that's probably the least of their worries right now.
"All systems are go!" the head technician finally announced. "Prepare for launch in T-minus 30!"
Quistis turned back out the window to watch as the countdown commenced. Despite her apprehension, whether by way of the president's plan or the Lunatic Pandora's imminent settling at Tears' Point, the vigor which had stuck with her along the journey into Esthar had yet to dissipate. She was far less wrought with worry than she had any right to be given the circumstances. Perhaps it were an omen, a newly developed sixth sense that told her all would be well. Even so, she crossed her fingers as the president gave the order to fire.
And then, with a raucous sonic boom, the first capsule rocketed across the plains.
"Approaching Tears' Point!" the station-wide intercom announced. "Our estimated time of arrival is less than 10 minutes. All maintenance staff, please vacate and re-seal the crystal containment field immediately. Repeat…"
Now to see what all the fuss is about…
To Irvine's relief, keeping a low profile had been a surprisingly simple task. Not a single soldier nor sorceress' knight batted an eye as they passed him in the halls. His trips to the mess hall for dinner and breakfast respectively had been no different; he'd picked a seat at a table well out of the way both times to be safe. And though finding accommodations for the night had seemed the most daunting task of all, there had been plenty of vacant sleeping quarters to choose from. He'd set himself up in one particular unit, routinely leaving to further explore the lay of the monolith's interior.
The structure's sheer size provided no shortage of ground for him to cover. Each venture outside his room opened him up to more insight on the situation, whether inferred from his surroundings, or finessed out of a passing soldier. There were still some boundaries he dared not cross for the moment. He'd yet to venture up to the command deck, where he presumed Seifer had staked his claim. Though his face might not have been as immediately familiar to him as the others, he'd still been there for the standoff in the Galbadia Garden atrium, not to mention their brief meeting at the D-District Prison. He likewise took care to avoid the other knights when possible, for fear they might recognize an impostor in their ranks.
All had gone well thus far. Over the course of his excursions, he'd managed to pick up on the name Tears' Point well before the announcement over the intercom. It was hardly useful information given how little he knew of Esthar's geography. He now stared out at the lay of the land from a view-port on the 37th floor. They had passed over the city in the middle of the night. From what he could see however, virtually nothing of concern resided beyond its outskirts. As he squinted his eyes out towards the eastern shore in the distance, he noticed only one potential outpost among the desolate landscape.
What looked like a massive cannon protruded outward from its peak. His first guess was that it might be a base erected to guard the coast. He quickly dismissed that notion the more he thought it over. For one thing, it was too far inland. For another, it would never be enough to ward off a full scale invasion by itself. What he could tell was that the cannon was presently aimed in their direction. And then, it fired. His eyes widened at the flash of its muzzle. Within moments, a speeding projectile came into view, whizzing across the plains.
A gleaming neon force-field materialized as it drew near. Irvine briefly averted his eyes, but soon turned them back as his curiosity got the better of him. The shield held steady for several moments more; it seemed the mortar had been successfully repelled. To his amazement however, a tear slowly began forming in the energy barrier at the point of impact. Inch by inch the capsule pushed its way through, until it finally passed the threshold completely. The boosters which propelled it forward ensured it hadn't lost an ounce of its speed. Predictably, it didn't stop until it collided with the monolith's outer casing.
Irvine gripped hard to the bottom of the view-port as the floor rumbled beneath his feet; even at roughly ten levels up from the point of impact, he felt the tremor clearly. He righted himself and bolted for the nearest elevator as the shaking settled. The other Galbadian troopers stationed on his level moved with haste to rival his own. As they collectively drew near the lift, the loudspeaker system chimed on.
"Attention, all stations! Hull breach on level 29, port-side. Repeat, hull breach on level 29, port-side."
Pouring on the speed, Irvine made it inside first and jammed the button for the 29th floor. The rest of the troops were hot on his heels. As the only knight among them, the six gave him plenty of room as they piled aboard. Before the door could close fully, another tremor rocked the monolith. The lot of them stumbled in place, Irvine throwing his arms out to the wall to catch himself.
"What the hell's going on?!" one shouted.
"You think it's Esthar?" another, more composed trooper asked. "Are we being shelled?"
"We'll see when we get down there!" Irvine said, adopting a more commanding tone of voice. In accordance with his uniform, he would need to assert himself to maintain a believable disguise. "On your feet!"
The men snapped back into formation as quickly as they could. Satisfied his ruse had worked, Irvine preemptively drew his assault rifle from his back. He had no idea what sort of devastation awaited them on the 29th level. Given how far Esthar had clearly advanced over the years, there was no telling if the weapon's true payload had yet to be deployed; it might have been some new experimental munition altogether. Provided they were indeed the monolith's original architects, it stood to reason they might have developed a means to put it out of commission.
He held his breath as the floor counter ticked down, wondering all the while if he ought to have taken the stairs instead. There had already been two impacts thus far. Depending on the extent of the damage, and the second capsule's entry point, there was no telling just where the shaft would come out. It was perhaps the longest elevator ride of his life, despite spanning only eight floors. He exhaled through his nose as a ding sounded and the doors finally parted. His squad raced out into the fray ahead of him. They dispersed across the expanse, mingling with the contingent of soldiers and knights already on the scene.
A sizable chunk of the far wall had been sheared clean through. Ample daylight came streaming in, the most Irvine had ever seen since boarding the previous afternoon. Just adjacent to his position, among the shattered remains of a sturdy support pillar, lay an oblong metal capsule. It looked at first glance to be what he'd expected: an over-sized munition round. Only as he noticed the control panel and sealed hatch ingrained into its side did his intuition clue him into another possibility; its dimensions did look perfectly suited for a human passenger.
Just then, out of the corner of his eye, the source of the second tremor came into sight. Another identical pod rested on the other end of the hall. Whether by chance or design, both had landed on the same floor one after the other. He approached the first cautiously. As the surrounding group began fiddling with the control panel, the door hissed open. A frigid draft of air escaped from its confines. And yet what lay within, or rather who, surprised Irvine even more than the initial bombardment.
Raijin grunted and groaned as he struggled to raise himself up out of the capsule, gripping both sides of the opening with his hands. Every rifle besides Irvine's locked onto him before he could find his footing.
"Put your hands over your head!" one soldier ordered.
"Wha… hey, hold up!" he protested, snapping out of his disorientation. "We're friendlies here, y'know?"
"Yeah, fat chance," another grunt scoffed. "Get 'em up, now!"
"C-captain!" Irvine blurted out.
His outburst prompted the guards to crane their necks back. He immediately holstered his rifle and fell to one knee, bowing his head in deference to Raijin.
"It's good to see you well! Sir Seifer has been expecting you and the commander for some time. Drop your weapons, all of you!"
Although the full picture wasn't clear to him, he knew his and Fujin's coming had to be for the sake of putting a stop to Seifer's madness. How else would they have convinced Esthar to send them aboard? Raijin flashed him an incredulous look. He obviously didn't recognize him; Irvine had been in full Galbadian uniform for the duration of his, Squall's, and Zell's infiltration of Balamb three months before. At least the muscle-head seemed to know better than to squander a stroke of fortune.
"Good to see someone here remembers us!" he boasted, pounding his chest with one fist. "You heard the man! Better let us through if you know what's good for ya, y'know?"
The soldiers' firearms clattered in rapid succession as each man re-affixed his safety, and lowered their barrels to the ground. They bowed their heads as they parted to either side. Irvine rose back up to his knee, and turned his attention to the nearest two grunts.
"See to his companion in the other pod," Irvine ordered them. "Make sure she's unharmed, and then show them both up to the command deck. The rest of you, get the maintenance staff down here, on the double!"
"Yes, sir!" they all responded, and bolted off to undertake their duties.
Raijin hurriedly surmounted the lip of the capsule, and followed his two assigned escorts in the direction of the other one. From out of its freshly unsealed metal frame rose a familiar head of silvery hair. As he lingered behind to watch their reunion, Irvine found himself hopeful for the first time since boarding that things could be set right. Their timing couldn't have been better. With any luck, Seifer's plan would be put to rest shortly, and by extension, Ultimecia's conquest.
Don't let us down now, you two…
