The tip of the Hyperion impacted the ground, making a small dent in the tar that filled--or attempted to fill--the cracks spreading across the Timber sidewalks. Seifer Almasy was in a bad mood.

"Oasis Kalm." Squall sounded three parts annoyed to one part condescending. Seifer rolled his eyes.

"That is what I said."

"And why would Fujin want to go to the Kashkabald Desert?"

"Because that's what was on the news that made her flip out," Seifer explained. "Really. Do I have to outline everything for you, or can we just leave?"

"Do you have any idea how long it will take to get there?"

"Trust me, Leonhart, I'm not looking forward to spending that much time together any more than you are." The Hyperion sank a bit deeper into the tar.

"Hey, guys?" Nida tried to break in.

"Do you know for certain that's where she's heading?"

Seifer growled. "No, Leonhart, but if you have a better idea, I'm open to suggestions. And going back to Garden doesn't count."

"There are no trains or boats to Lower Centra," Squall stated.

"No, but there's a boat to Upper Centra on the Lanker coast and there are ferries from there," Seifer responded. "I did bother to look all this up."

"Hey," Nida tried again with as much success.

"And if we don't manage to intercept her?"

"Then I'll think of something if that happens."

"Like?"

"Hey!"

The third time proved to be the charm, and both of the arguing parties turned to look at Nida--who appeared just as annoyed as they were.

"Look," he said, "maybe I don't know how this whole 'searching and finding' thing works, but I get the impression that it will be a lot faster if we went ahead and started looking. Can we, now?"

Seifer smirked, and Squall crossed his arms. "Fine," he stated flatly.

"Why don't we just agree that if we've gotten to Oasis Kalm without running into them, we turn back and go to Garden. Okay? Sound good?"

Squall quirked an eyebrow, and Seifer's smirk vanished. "Fine," he agreed in ill grace.

"Right. Now, in the interests of my not having to spend too much time with either of you, let's leave."

Nida considered walking off at that point, but decided that it might not be the best decision to leave Squall and Seifer alone--especially since he didn't have the kind of presence that would compel anyone to follow him if he did walk off. So, instead, he waited for Squall to motion forward with his gunblade.

"After you."

Seifer gave a sardonic smile and a mocking little bow, and stepped forward and past Nida without so much as a glance in his direction. Nida tried to catch Squall's eye for a moment, but Squall ignored him.

It was in a very bad collective mood that they set out on the first leg of their journey.

-


The Lanker Docks were nothing more than a collection of warehouses and piers on the coastal edge of the Lanker Plains, sunk between ridges and rises and almost invisible. Which served, actually, as a fair metaphor for the docks themselves--the only function they served was to ferry archaeologists and their ilk to Centra and back, and as a result could probably disappear from the face of the world without more than a handful of people noticing or caring. The ships they serviced were long, wide monstrosities suited for carrying people, animals, and equipment--just not very quickly, in any case.

Fujin, for all that she had seemed to be pursuing an urgent goal, didn't seem to be too put off by the day-long wait to catch a ferry or the fact that the ferry ride would take several more days. She sat in a room of the small Stopover Hotel--more a stopover than a hotel--and seemed to be an emblem of discipline, if not patience.

And at least she had lost that burning, angry look.

And maybe that was why Raijin decided it was time to strike up a conversation again.

"...h-hey, Fuj'?"

"WHAT?"

"What're we doin' out here? I mean, I dunno why we're even chasin' this guy, ya know? I'm a bit confused, is all."

Fujin stared at him for a moment, but not angrily. "He reminds me of someone," she whispered.

"Who?"

"Someone."

Raijin sighed. Fujin seemed to be in one of her unresponsive moods. Which was, of course, normal--but he could always hope for a rare moment of lucidity. "C'mon, Fuj'--"

"You'll see if I'm right." Fujin turned away, engrossing herself in studying the patterns in the plaster walls. Raijin suppressed a shiver.

"Ya know," he began, "I really don't think it's the same guy, if thats who you think it is. What're the odds? He's probably dead by now, ya--"

Fujin had turned back to stare at him, and her eye was burning like a flare. "NO," she pronounced, anger in every facet of the word. "NOT DEAD."

Raijin shrunk back. "O-okay, ya know?" he stammered. "I just--you never act like this, ya--"

"QUIET," Fujin said--with all the force and authority needed to end the conversation for the foreseeable future.

She turned back to the wall and lost herself in her own musings--for which Raijin was almost glad.