Chapter 24: The Way Home
Exhausted by a long day of tending to the wounded, of systematically undoing all of the damage her whip and her spells had done, Quistis stretched her arms out above her head and held them there until her back popped. It felt good, like a pocket of tension had burst and all the regret she'd built over the few islanders she'd been unable to save was flowing free, ebbing away.
"Is that everyone?" Adrian asked as he walked by.
"Everyone on the beach," Quistis replied. "We'll have to leave behind anyone who ran back into the trees. The shadow cats will find them long before we do."
Nodding, Adrian brushed his hands off on his pants and kicked some fresh sand over a patch soaked in blood before walking back down the beach to where Kelly was loading the last of the islanders onto one of their now commandeered ships. They'd had several and only one was still floating. The other two had washed in toward shore as they sank and were now mired in the shallows. Seifer was ransacking them for supplies. Every once and a while, a crate would come flying out and land with a careless splash in the water.
All things considered, this was better a better end to her mission than she'd imagined two days ago. But it still felt like a bittersweet victory. Too many civilians had died -- people whose lives might have been saved if she'd acted sooner rather than using their time inside the compound to reconnoiter. And, worst of all, she'd only been able to salvage this end out of a throughly spoiled mission with Carson Brecht's help. Without his intervention, it would have been an utter failure.
She'd probably lose a rank when they got back to Garden.
Shaking off that discouraging thought, she waded out to where their Garden vessel was bobbing in the waves. Aurelia was still inside, her wrists bound to a cargo hook behind her. She sat up straight and narrowed her eyes when Quistis pulled herself up into the ship.
"Don't look at me like that," Quistis said and sat down at the navigation panel.
"Like what?" Aurelia asked petulantly.
"I'm not your enemy," Quistis replied, irritated. "I just spent the entire day healing your friends and countrymen. So don't look at me like that."
Aurelia rolled her eyes. "Fixing some of the damage you've done doesn't change what you are."
"What I am is the person who killed the Sorceress Adel. I'm the person who promised Sascha Maurden's mother that I'd find out how he died." Quistis spun around in her chair, putting her back to the other woman. Her hands moved absent-mindedly over the keys and lit up the navigation screen. "I thought Seifer gave you something to put you to sleep. Least he could have done was a silence spell."
"Your boyfriend?" Aurelia asked unexpectedly.
"What?"
"Is Seifer your boyfriend? Or...husband maybe?"
Crinkling up her nose, Quistis said, "Of course not."
"You seem awfully close for colleagues. I heard all about how you two were caught in the act." Aurelia's voice was thick with condescension. "Was that before or after you somberly considered your vow to Sascha's mother?"
For a moment, Quistis considered the possibility that Diablos had loosened the woman's mouth a little too well. She punched keys forcefully as she programmed their course back to the mainland into the ship's computer. Ignoring the question, partly because Aurelia was right (Quistis hadn't exactly been a paragon of virtue on this mission), she stood up and said, "We'll be leaving before nightfall. It's going to be a long trip, so get comfortable."
As she left, Quistis brushed her hand over her whip, just to prove she meant business.
Outside, Seifer was hauling all the crates he'd tossed into the water up onto the beach. A few of them he'd set aside to be transferred to the ship they'd be leaving on — important supplies like food, water, and medicine.
"Gotta say," he said as he sloshed by, "these people were either already packed to leave at a moment's notice, or they've been working their tails off since we got here to get all this stuff together. You should see how much stuff they had in that ship. More than enough to start all over again somewhere."
"Anything other than supplies?" Quistis asked.
"Yeah. There's some hard drives and a server, but they're swamped."
"At least no one else is going to get whatever was on them," she replied and shrugged. "Do you need any help?"
"Nope. I'm done. Wasn't much worth taking."
He followed her as she walked up to the ship and past where Adrian and Kelly were handling the last of the prisoners. Inside, Carson was getting them all settled into the cargo holds where they'd weather most of the trip. Quistis stepped past the first cargo hold's door and began climbing steps up toward the deck. The ship was at least fifty years old and had been obsolete long before Quistis had been born. "Any idea where you steer one of these things from?" she asked Seifer who was still following behind her.
"Yeah. Keep going."
The deck was wide and open except for a small shack toward the front of the ship. Seifer gestured toward it, so Quistis continued forward through the door and found a single chair parked in front of a huge array of buttons, throttles, and primitive analog meters. For a second, she stared at the instruments in shock. She'd never been taught how to use anything like this…no one had since built-in navigation had been invented.
"Ugly, isn't it?" Seifer said.
Nodding, Quistis pulled out the chair and sat down. Like everything else about the ship, it was old and uncomfortable with one rebellious spring that was pressing up against her thigh. Carefully, she looked across all the dials, all the buttons, then pushed her chair back a little to get a wider view in hope that something might jump out to her. "How the heck do you turn it on?"
Seifer leaned forward over her shoulder. "Try pressing this one." His hand shot past her and depressed a wide, blue button. It locked down for a moment, then clicked back up. Nothing happened. "Guess that wasn't it," Seifer said.
"Obviously."
"I'm just trying to help."
"I know…sorry. I don't have any idea what to do. Let's just press everything and see if we can even get something to come on, or this whole voyage will be over before it's even begun." It was Selphie's default method of dealing with any technical situation, and more often than not the tactic actually worked. It was worth a shot, anyway. Both she and Seifer began pressing buttons, and when nothing happened he even went so far as to hit the console with his fist. Surprisingly, one of the screens came on.
"Sometimes you just gotta show it a little force," he said, grinning.
"Mmm…right." Quistis looked up at him, amused. He was leaning close to her, and he smelled good. Not like cologne or something special he was wearing. Like Seifer. Like the evening they'd spent dancing in Galbadia and the nights they'd spent huddled together on the island. She didn't want to lose this when they went back to Garden, she realized.
She shook her head.
"Right. So…now we just…what?" The screen that had turned on was only showing text, and all of it was in another language.
"Must be Centran," Seifer murmured.
"I don't know any Centran. Do you?"
Seifer shook his head. They sat for a moment longer, considering the screen and what everything on it might mean, until Carson poked his head in the door.
"We've got all the prisoners ready to go," he reported. "All the supplies are loaded, too. So once you're done here, we'll be ready to go."
"Sorry, Carson. Doesn't look like we're going to be going anywhere," Quistis replied. "All of their ship systems are in Centran."
"Centran?" His eyes got big and he rushed into the room, shoving Seifer out of the way in his haste. His chest was puffing out, filling his uniform so that the seams threatened to burst. "Are you serious?" He bent down, peering over Quistis's shoulder at the text. "Oh…holy Hyne. I think I'm going to die. Right here, right now."
Seifer snorted. "Good."
"I'm a bit of an expert on foreign languages," Carson announced, ignoring the jibe. "I've been studying Centran for years."
"How lucky for us," Seifer replied sarcastically. "An interpreter. You can really read all that?"
"Well, I don't actually know the language per-say," Carson admitted. "But I do know some languages that are close. The language spoken in southern Esthar, for instance, is thought to be a close cousin of Centran. We don't really have a lot of Centran, you see, since the Lunar Cry wiped out…well…pretty much everything. But all the books on the subject say that Centran and Estharan share some common morphemes. Some of the syntax is off, of course. And there's a whole host of other problems with trying to understand the pragmatics of a dead language."
"Why the heck have you been studying a dead language anyway?" Seifer asked.
"Because I'm writing a book set in Centra. It's a political thriller about the First Sorceress War. It's all about this woman who is from southern Esthar, and she turns traitor, starts working against Adel. The idea is that she's part of the beginning of the rebellion, the one that eventually overthrows Adel, but the Lunar Cry just wipes out everyone she's come to know and love in Centra. So she—"
"Carson." Quistis put her hand on his, interrupting him. "All I really need to know is whether you can figure out how to get us back to the mainland."
He shrugged. "I could try."
"Great. Do it."
She relinquished her seat to him and stood next to Seifer to watch. Both of them crossed their arms, watching with interest as Carson placed himself in the chair and began muttering aloud, obviously enjoying the task and the chance to show off his knowledge. "Okay." He touched one hand to his mouth. "I think this right here, and this right here, should start up our engines." He pressed a few buttons.
With a loud beep, a radar screen came on.
"Oh." Carson blushed. "I guess not. But that's just as good! Let's try this instead." The second time, he actually managed to get it right, and after a few minutes of trial and error, he had the ship ready to go. Quistis couldn't help but be impressed.
"Nice job."
He grinned and slung his arm around her. "Thanks, babe."
Though the moment that followed was supremely awkward, Carson didn't appear to notice. As gently as she could, Quistis extracted herself from his grip and said, "You'll have go ride back on this ship. I think it's fair to say you're the only one who's going to be able to captain it. I'm going to send Adrian and Kelly along with you. Seifer and I will ride back in the Garden craft with Aurelia."
"I was hoping you'd ride back with me," Carson replied. "We haven't had a chance to catch up."
"I know. But I don't want to leave anyone alone with Aurelia."
"So, if she's really that dangerous, send Adrian along with Seifer."
"The team assignments are decided," she said firmly. "We're not done with this mission yet. I'll sit down with you and we'll have a nice long talk as soon as we get back to Garden. All right?"
There was nothing but distrust and contempt in Carson's expression when he glanced at Seifer and nodded. He had to suspect the truth by now. It pained Quistis to do this to him and to drag their relationship out. A clean break right at the moment he'd walked onto the beach probably would have been the kindest thing do to. But she wanted the chance to explain her decision to him in private.
"Okay. Let's get out of here. I'll tell Kelly and Adrian that we're ready to go. Carson, you can just follow right behind us. I've already got the course back plotted in the other boat."
Quistis took it as a sign that their relationship was beginning to change when he didn't argue with her. Though he was sullen about it, he turned around and continued to work on the ship's controls, saying nothing as Quistis and Seifer walked out together. Down below deck, Kelly and Adrian were standing close together, holding hands and talking quietly.
"Everyone on board?" Quistis asked.
"Yep. Head count is thirty seven."
"Good. You two are staying here for the trip. Make sure they're taken care of. Carson's acting captain. You can radio us in the other ship if there's any problems."
"Yes, sir." Adrian saluted, then smiled. "Have a nice trip."
With Aurelia chained to the wall, seething with hatred, and the question of their relationship still up in the air, Quistis didn't suppose that the trip was going to be as pleasant as Adrian was imagining. But she appreciated the sentiment. She and Seifer disembarked, walked down the beach to their own ship, and climbed inside. Before they even had the door closed, Aurelia opened her mouth to speak, ready to begin railing against Garden and SeeD again. Quistis didn't want to hear it, so before the other woman could say anything, she cast a hasty sleep spell on her and added a silence spell for good measure.
Aurelia's head fell to one side, banging against the wall with a muted thud.
"Excessive much?" Seifer asked, one eyebrow arched curiously.
"If you really want to listen to her all the way back, feel free to wake her up," Quistis replied.
"Uh…that's okay." He chuckled and sat down in the co-pilot's chair. "It's just that you're not usually this cranky."
"What? I'm not cranky."
"You've been moody all day," he replied as he typed in the commands to start the ship's engines. "What is it that's eating you? Aren't you glad to be done here?"
She stared at him, not at all sure how to answer that question. Perhaps it was time to just be honest and ask him what was going to happen when they landed back in Balamb. Maybe sitting down to talk through the mission, everything that had gone wrong, and everything they'd misjudged would help her come to terms with it. She knew that Seifer wouldn't pull any punches — he'd tell her exactly where she'd made mistakes. They had nothing but time to sit and talk, after all.
Their ship started off toward the open sea. On the radar, Quistis could see Carson's ship fall in behind them.
"I've been thinking about my relationship with Carson," she admitted. Thinking about how she didn't love him. Wondering how she'd ever thought that she could manufacture something that just wasn't there. She'd been in his place before and knew how it would feel when she finally broke the news. A long time ago, she'd thought she'd never love anyone but Squall, but when she'd tried to tell him that, he'd brushed her off. She'd always thought that even if he didn't love her then, he could have come to love her if Rinoa hadn't entered the picture. Maybe it was that lingering idea that had convinced her to give Carson every opportunity to win her heart.
Now Seifer had won it instead. It was like Squall and Rinoa all over again. Suddenly, she understood why he'd never opened up to her.
"Brecht is a…" Seifer trailed off for a moment, apparently deciding to say something else than what he'd initially intended. "He's a okay SeeD, I guess. I always think Instructors are soft. But he held his own okay, I suppose."
He paused, finished with the navigation screen and set the ship to auto-pilot.
"He has piss-poor timing, though."
Quistis smiled, latching onto that as an indication he might want to continue where they'd left off.
"How's your back?" she asked.
"Great."
"The fight didn't aggravate it? Has the scarring gone down at all? I feel kind of bad about that. Usually I can heal things completely."
Surprising her, he spun around in his chair so that his back was to her, then worked up the back of his shirt. The scars were still puffy, probably would be for the rest of his life. She reached out and trailed her fingers down the slashes, making him shudder.
So it was still there. Something tense. Something electric.
"What do you think?" he asked. "Is my modeling career ruined, or what?"
She laughed. "Yes. Afraid so."
He turned around, letting his shirt drop back into place, and reached across the space between them to wind his fingers in the hair falling over her shoulder. "I want to talk about this."
"About what?"
His hand moved up to her chin, captured it. "Don't play dumb. You know what I'm talking about." He took a deep breath. "About Carson. About you…and me. I mean, I think it's pretty god damn obvious how I feel here, and Brecht, too, seeing as we've been at each others' throats since he got here. So what about you?"
"You hate Carson purely because I'm dating him?"
"No. I hate him because he's a dip-shit. Don't change the subject. If you're really in love with him, you gotta just tell me now."
"I'm not," she replied quickly.
"Then why are you leading him on? Why haven't you broken it off with him?"
"Because…we're in the middle of a mission here. When was I supposed to sit down and explain to him that I want to break up? When the shadow cat was attacking? Or when were fighting on the beach?"
"How about right when he got off the boat?" Seifer suggested.
"In front of everyone?"
"It's cruel to let him carry on thinking you love him," he replied sharply. "And it's really goddamn cruel to hang onto him just so you can avoid me, if that's what you're doing. I'll understand if you don't want anyone back at Garden to know about what happened out there, Quistis. You don't need to hold onto this awful Carson Brecht shit to keep it under wraps."
She was flabbergasted. "That's not what I'm doing."
He frowned and leaned forward, his green eyes burning into her. "Tell me the truth."
"I am." She grabbed his hand. "Seifer…I don't care if anyone back at Garden knows about us. But I need time to break it off clean with Carson. Not some cold boot to the curb. I owe him that much. And, honestly, I wasn't really sure if there even was an us."
He shook his head and pulled her closer. "Hyne. I hope there is," he said and leaned in to kiss her. His mouth was soft against hers, his eyes firmly closed. Like always, she was fluid and malleable under his hands. "Because I've never felt this before," he continued when he broke away. "Have you?"
Face flushed with a rising tide of lust and affection, she shook her head and fought the urge to throw her arms around him and hold him close. "No," she replied, leaning close despite herself. "Never."
