WHIRLWIND

Chapter 6: The Widening Gyre

"We're moving?"

"Yes." Xu nodded as she clambered into the cramped service chamber. She tossed him the medkit she had retrieved during her excursion.

"So, you were right about the hijacking."

"Looks like it." Xu answered pensively. "I didn't see any activity; I suppose they're on the upper decks."

"That first cruiser never got to dock," Nida mused, "They might be short-handed." Applying a Potion he flexed his leg gingerly, testing its effect.

"Right," Xu smiled, "And therein, our opportunity. If we can rouse enough of our people we've still got a chance. We move quickly, keep our heads down, and we might still be able to show these bastards the door."

Nida nodded, grinning, "Now that I look forward to."

"Boss?"

Zell Dincht started into full wakefulness at the voice, bolting upright in his sleeping bag as he tried to discern the shadowy silhouette crouched by his side.

"Jake." He relaxed slightly on recognizing the burly figure, "What's up?"

"Creydon's back."

"Unh." Zell slumped back to the ground, raising an arm to examine the chrono it bore, "Aw man, I just got off watch like an hour ago." He lay there a moment longer before groaning, "You woke me up just to tell me that?"

Trilby chuckled, "No, boss, he says he found some kind of encampment. Protocol Boy wants to call home."

That news woke Zell up properly. "What? Why?"

"Wouldn't say," Trilby answered, his tone bemused, "Said he wasn't going to argue with me since he'd only end up having the same argument with you in the end anyway."

"Really?" Zell grinned in the darkness, "Guess we can't use that trick any more."

"Guess not." Trilby straightened, his towering frame dwarfing the older SeeD.

"Too bad. All right, I'm on my way. Get Mikel up and let Caris know we're going to be moving out, one way or the other."

"Right, boss."

Zell shrugged on his anorak, bracing against the chill; the northern tip of the Dollet peninsula could match the brutal cold of Trabia's winters. As he crossed the small camp to where two figures awaited him, however, he braced himself for an entirely different kind of frost.

One of the pair snapped to attention at his approach while the other, moving only slightly, managed to convey considerable irritation while remaining little more than a patch of darker shadow in the gloom. He nodded to both of them.

"Hey, Crey, good ta see you. What've you got?"

Creydon Warnor shifted into an at-ease stance as he commenced his report, speaking briskly and formally. Zell knew better than to try and persuade him to actually relax; Warnor strove to maintain a determinedly professional demeanour at all times. "Sir. Early this afternoon I located what appeared to be a Galbadian military encampment of some magnitude eight kilometers north-north-east of this position. I was able to penetrate their sentry line and gain an estimate of their strength: the encampment holds roughly three hundred troops and a number of vehicles – four LT112s, fourteen MAT7s, two deployed K56s, and around a dozen trucks. They appear to have been in place for some time, sir; I'd estimate at least a month."

Zell whistled softly, feeling a certain anticipatory shiver run through him. Three hundred troops - a couple of mechanized infantry companies by the sound of it, deployed in defense of the K56 cruise missile carriers. The prospect of action beckoned enticingly.

"Nice work, Crey," he said, resisting the urge to clap the younger man on the back; Warnor wouldn't be comfortable with the familiarity. "Whaddaya think, Arty?" he asked, turning to the second figure – a tall, broad-shouldered man in Galbadian-style camo fatigues, his tousled dark hair the only sign that he, too, had only recently awakened.

Artan Velorian took a moment before answering, "I agree that Mr Warnor has done well, as always," he said quietly, "We should contact Station Ahearn as soon as possible, to verify the identity of this encampment."

Pretty much as expected, Zell thought.

"You know it'll take at least half a day to get to a clear transmission point," he pointed out reasonably, vaguely indicating the surrounding mountains. Velorian's face assumed its most obdurate aspect as he replied.

"From what Mr Warnor has reported the encampment appears to be long established, Mr Dincht," Zell fought down the irritation that his mode of address always roused; the Galbadian was intent on making it clear that the SeeD was not part of any military hierarchy that he cared to recognize, "I don't think there is any risk involved in taking time to ascertain whether or not this is a legitimate installation."

"You're supposed to be our expert on these things," Zell sighed, "Shouldn't you know?"

Though he could not see it in the darkness, he sensed Velorian's eyes narrowing. "If we had remained in our designated patrol zone-"

"We'd be wasting our time, and you know it!" Zell cut him off. He had been on three of these rebel-hunting missions in the past six months, and this was far the biggest find of any of them. The first week of this outing had been so uneventful he felt he could have done it in his sleep, going over the same ground as the past two patrols he had run. "You agreed with the decision, remember." That had been a surprise; after he decided unilaterally to move the mission north of their assigned patrol region, he had expected Velorian to argue tooth and nail. He had been vaguely disappointed when the Galbadian did not.

That gave Velorian pause, some of the hostility fading from his demeanour, and he took a moment to collect himself. "That's not the point."

"And the point is?" Zell pursued. Velorian bristled, his response clipped and icy.

"The point, Mr Dincht, is that I'm not familiar with every outpost and waystation the army has, especially outside of the search zone. Under the circumstances I think we can take an extra day to confirm with command, and if you'd stop to think it over for once you'd agree."

If I stop to... Zell forced himself to think it over, overcoming the urge to react to Velorian's tone rather than his reason. He was aware of the rest of their party watching the exchange and steadied himself. Remember, he reminded himself, you're the leader. You can't let your temper run the show. He smiled inwardly; why did his better angels always sound like Quisty?

"It's not just about time," he replied, "There are... security issues as well." He didn't want to have to spell it out and Velorian's sharp intake of breath told him he didn't need to: they both knew the Galbadian military was riddled with Praetorian sympathizers. The silence grew long.

"If we contact Station Ahearn," Velorian said quietly, "I can deal directly with Captain Ryden. I can vouch for her integrity."

Zell looked at his shadowy silhouette for some moments, not quite willing to voice the thought that rang through his mind: But who can vouch for yours?

Ultimately, it seemed, he would have to take it on faith.

"Crey," he said finally, "Where's the nearest clear transmission point?"

"Kellin's Ridge," Warnor replied promptly, "Ten hours, give or take."

"All right then, Arty, we'll do it your way. Break camp, guys, we're on the hoof in ten minutes."

Without waiting for a response he turned and headed for his own bedroll, forcing himself to focus on the task ahead. As he started to pack mechanically his thoughts were interrupted by a voice at his side.

"Thought you two were going to start throwing punches there,"

Zell didn't turn to the speaker, "Don't you have packing to do?"

"Tossed Jake for it," Mikel Horn replied easily, his slender, dark-haired form dropping to his haunches beside Zell, "He lost."

"I'm astonished," Zell replied wryly. Normally he'd be happy to banter with the younger SeeD, but right now he wasn't in the mood. "Well since you're free, you can pack my stuff."

The order left Horn speechless for almost a second. "You're... kidding."

Zell smiled, slapping him on the shoulder, "Just exercising my rank."

Horn stared at him a moment longer then bent to his new task with a sigh. As he did so Zell straightened, stretching, and turned to watch the others.

"It's not personal, is what I was going to say." Horn said behind him. Zell didn't answer; he knew Mikel would continue with or without his participation. "He doesn't like any of us."

"You think?" Zell muttered, drawn into the conversation in spite of himself.

"I asked around at Ahearn last leave," Horn continued, ignoring his team leader's comment, "Apparently Velorian was in one of the Black Flag teams dropped on Dollet. One of the supply sergeants said he was with the team that took out General Styers."

Zell turned at that, wondering if the young SeeD was having him on. It wasn't likely; Horn's studies had focused on intelligence gathering and analysis and he had excelled in them – largely, Zell suspected, because he was a natural gossip. Whatever the reason, Horn's information was usually very accurate.

If he was right, it was telling. The elite tech-commando division codenamed Black Flag had spearheaded the Galbadian invasion of Dollet, its teams making surgical strikes against key defensive installations and personnel. None had had a more difficult or important objective than the team charged with the elimination of General Argus Styers in his fortified command bunker, the very heart of Dollet's strategic defense.

Moreover, the Black Flag teams had themselves suffered heavy losses during Balamb Garden's counterattack. If Velorian had been involved it meant that he was not only much more dangerous than his official title of 'Military Liaison' suggested – a conclusion Dincht had already reached on his own - but that he might well have strong reason to dislike SeeDs in general and Balamb's in particular. All of which, he couldn't help thinking, made Velorian a rather odd choice for his job.

"Terrific," Zell muttered, shaking his head, "I was happier not knowing that, thanks." He turned his gaze back to where Velorian was finishing his own packing.

"Hey, he could have been wrong," Horn offered helpfully, but he was unable to sound convincing. He said no more and Zell remained silent, staring at Velorian's shadowy silhouette.

"One minute."

Xu spoke the words mechanically, barely aware that she had done so. Her mind was still struggling with the implications of the devastation they had discovered on the concourse and the painful awareness that her closest friend might well be dead. Only the hard core of her professionalism allowed her to rise above the turmoil in her heart and mind. It was the same part of her that snapped her thoughts away from their painful focus to the situation at hand.

She cast a quick glance at the two figures behind her. Josette Moller and Edric Rane were two of the dozen SeeDs they had managed to revive using the Remedies they had procured from the aid kits they had found in the past two hours. She would have liked more, of course, but Quistis had taken the entire stock of Remedies from Dr Camus and they had vanished with her.

She might not be dead, Xu reminded herself; they had not found her body, after all, but the sheer level of damage on the concourse made it hard to believe that she could have survived. Quisty had survived worse in the past, though, and that thought allowed her a flicker of hope.

It was a faint hope, but Xu supposed she should be grateful for even that. What's more, she reminded herself sternly, you still have work to do. She could mourn Quistis later, if it proved necessary. Taking another moment to regain her focus, she checked her chrono again.

"Ten seconds," she said softly, readying herself.

Ten seconds later a muffled explosion shook the deck and Xu was shouting, "Go! Go! Go!"

Team Two's explosives – salvaged from the nearly destroyed armoury – blew the elevator doors moments before Teams One and Three stormed out of the accessways, the fourth assault on the bridge in an eventful night. Moving swiftly and economically they spread out from their entry points, joined moments later by Team Two from the elevator shaft. Their eyes and weapons swept the bridge -

- finding nothing. Xu straightened from her crouch, her eyes sweeping every inch of the bridge – as though she might somehow have overlooked the enemy that had to be here.

After a moment longer she had to accept the fact that she had not.

"Okay..." Nida's voice broke the silence, "Now I'm confused."

Xu had to agree, though she did not say so out loud. They had swept the lower and middle levels and found no intruders at all; though there were signs of combat – particularly in the upper living quarters – their attackers seemed to have vanished into thin air, Battle Gears and all. Even the bodies in the elevator – and here on the bridge, for that matter – were gone. She had thought it was just possible that the attackers had decided to fortify on the bridge, holding it and so keeping control of the Garden; but they were not here.

It made no sense - and Xu liked things to make sense. What were they doing? They attack the Garden. They knock out the communications. They gas the whole population. They abduct Edea, Rinoa and Squall - This was a guess, but the three were unaccounted for. Then... they leave.

Based on that assessment, surely, the abductions had to have been the primary goals of the operation. Hit and run; a perfectly valid approach, militarily speaking.

But then why was Garden moving?

Xu didn't know, but she was certain she wouldn't like the answer. Given that there was nobody on the bridge, though, there were a few obvious possibilities as to how.

"Nida," she snapped, "Get up there and open up the control consoles."

"Sir?"

Draymar's voice snapped Meridar out of an uncharacteristic bout of introspection. Shaking his head he glanced on the computer screen before him, his half-finished report staring back at him. His lip curled in irritation, directed inward, as he tapped the comms switch.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Sir, Garden should be passing way point Bravo in five minutes. Standing by to adjust course for way point Charlie."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Keep me posted." Meridar flicked the comms unit off and turned his attention back to the waiting report.

"Looks like you were right, sir," Nida's voice was muffled, his head and shoulders deep in the electronic innards of the command station.

"What is it?"

Nida backed out of the console, grimacing as he clipped his head painfully on the edge of the inspection hatch. Xu showed no sign that she had noticed his mishap and he was happy to play along, ignoring the dulling pain as he straightened.

"It's a receiver," he reported, "tapped directly into our control systems."

Xu's eyes narrowed at his words. His report confirmed her suspicion – really, the only possible explanation.

"We're under remote control."

Nida nodded, frowning to himself, "Yeah... I guess so." His eyes flickered up to meet hers. "I don't get it."

Nor do I, thought Xu, though again she didn't voice the thought. "Can you disconnect it?"

Nida bit his lip. "I think so," he replied cautiously, "there's a pretty serious anti-tamper mechanism, though."

"How serious?"

"Well..." he scratched his neck nervously, "pretty serious." At Xu's irritated frown he hastened to continue, "It'd kill anyone on the pedestal, wreck the controls."

"So it's a bomb." Xu deciphered his explanation. Why didn't you just say so?

"Well, yeah." Nida looked at her oddly, as though that should have been obvious all along. "I'm pretty sure I can disarm it-"

"Not yet," her mind was working as she stepped to the console, her eyes taking in the few readouts still functioning. She noted with irritation – though not surprise – that the navigational controls were not among them. "Can you get a fix on our position without disturbing the tap?"

Nida nodded and dived back into the electronics. Xu raised her gaze to the windows, searching for anything that might reveal their location or heading, but she could see only darkness.

The floor shifted under her and she caught at the control console to steady herself. Glancing sharply down at Nida she dropped to a crouch and rapped her knuckles against the side of his knee. "What the hell did you just do?"

"Wasn't me, sir," Nida protested without budging from his position, "It's a course change..." he paused a moment, fiddling with the electronics, "Okaay... we're moving west-south-west between Galbadia and Centra, northeast of the Baran archipelago."

Xu processed the information as Nida slid out of the console.

"We could just ride it," he suggested, "See where it takes us and beat the crap out of whoever's waiting."

It was an idea, Xu supposed, and the second part of it was very appealing, but she dismissed it after a moment. Their enemy had proved themselves both efficient and capable, and she was certain that allowing them to keep the initiative would be a mistake.

"No," she murmured, "No. I want you to extrapolate our current heading and tell me how close we'll come to land. Quickly, Nida."

The young man nodded; the urgency in her tone was infectious. Without demur he went to work.

It took him less than a minute. "If we keep to our current speed and heading we'll pass within five miles of the northern tip of the Baran archipelago in about two and a quarter hours."

"Right," Xu murmured, "I want you ready to bypass that thing by then. The rest of you – split into pairs and make a sweep of the lower levels. Report anything unusual."

"Colonel?"

The voice this time was not Draymar, but Janson, the communications officer. Meridar glanced at his watch: Right on time.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Colonel Meridar, sir, you asked to be advised when we would be in position for a secure transmission to the Citadel. We're in position now, sir."

"Thank you, lieutenant. This will be a high security communication - I'll handle it from here."

"Yes, sir."

Meridar turned back to his console and entered his security authority, followed by the transmission protocols. After a moment his screen dissolved into static and then gradually cleared into a recognizable image.

"Kyle, glad to hear from you. What's your status?"

The speaker was a dignified man in his fifties, his tanned face weathered and lined, silvery hair and beard neatly trimmed. At his words Meridar unconsciously stiffened, squaring his shoulders.

"General, Marauder One is en route to the Citadel. We have all three primary targets aboard and Garden is currently maneuvering under our control. I must, however, report that our losses have been much heavier than expected; Marauder Two was lost with almost ninety percent casualties, and-"

The General raised a hand. "I will wait on your formal report for those details, Kyle. For now the most critical issue is the status of the primary targets. You have them aboard Marauder One and properly secured, am I correct?"

"Yes, sir."

The image smiled faintly. "Then you can consider the mission a success, Kyle – don't lose sight of that. I know you take the losses to heart – and they are regrettable - but they have helped secure our future, and that of our country. Bear that in mind before you condemn yourself."

Meridar bowed his head. "Yes, sir."

"All right. Good. Now your ETA to the Citadel is what, fourteen or fifteen hours?"

"Fourteen, yes, sir."

"I'll expect your formal report then. In the meantime," the General's smile took on a wolfish cast, "I'll advise Caraway of our progress. I imagine he'll be very interested."

Meridar returned the expression. "No doubt."

"Now?"

Xu shook her head silently, watching the restored navigational displays. Garden's tiny icon edged along the map, just north of a small archipelago on Centra's northwestern coast. Just a little longer...

The search parties had found no intruders, but they had uncovered something else: the intruders had set explosive charges throughout Garden's lower levels. From their size and distribution their purpose was clear – knock out Garden's propulsion systems and hole it badly enough to sink.

Her teams had disarmed four of the devices safely, but there were still half a dozen active – and she doubted they had yet found them all. She had no doubt their attackers would trigger those bombs once their command tap was disabled, as Nida now waited to do. There was no way to be certain that the resulting damage would not sink the Garden and so...

"Is everybody clear?"

Nida gave her a look back over his shoulder, nodding. "Yes ma'am. Moller's boat was the last one."

"Good." No point in risking more lives than absolutely necessary. The Garden was down to a skeleton crew, the non-essential survivors now at sea in everything from Garden's armoured landing craft to inflatable dinghies. Not a textbook evacuation by any means... but it would do.

Xu spared a glance for the young man crouched in front of her behind the makeshift blast shield they had rigged on the bridge. He was rigid with tension, his face a mask of concentration and streaked with sweat, hands white where they gripped the kill-switch.

Smiling to herself she placed a hand on his shoulder. Surprised, he stiffened at the touch.

"Steady, Nida," she murmured, "have a little faith in yourself."

His answering smile was strained, but sincere. "Yes, ma'am."

Xu matched his smile, squeezing his shoulder firmly as her eyes narrowed.

"Now!" she snapped.

Nida threw the switch he had rigged, cringing instinctively - but once again his technical skills were proved up to the task and the tap's anti-tamper charges remained quiescent as the darkened piloting displays lit up. Xu sprang to the controls and entered the new course, and almost immediately Garden swung into a wide turn to the south. In the morning light the low bulk of the nearest island was clearly visible a scant few miles to the south, enticingly near yet far enough that a prompt response by the enemy might still catch them in deep water.

Xu watched the shore creep closer, agonizingly slowly, expecting the rumble of explosions at any moment.

Meridar was almost done with his preliminary report when the intercom crackled to life once more.

"Colonel!" Draymar's tone was urgent, almost panicked, a startling contrast to his usual calm demeanour. "Colonel, Garden's just veered off course – it's no longer responding to commands!"

Meridar nodded to himself, unsurprised. His voice when he replied was cool and level: "Then kindly sink it, Lieutenant."

"Sir! Yes, sir!"

Xu had almost come to believe that they were going to make it when the first charges went off. The detonations themselves were imperceptible, faint tremors lost in the rumble of the floating city's engines. Garden began to slowly list to starboard, but the list was barely noticeable to those on board.

Then there was sound – the deep groan of straining metal which reverberated through her body from foot to crown, rattling her teeth. The bridge began to tilt, the motion strangely leisurely, a disaster movie in slow-mo. Bulletproof glass shattered – a single pane, then the entire ceiling exploding, fragmenting, and with that sound the world suddenly went mad around her.

The floor pitched crazily beneath her as a cacophony of noise assailed her senses, the screams of twisting metal and splintering glass washing over the deep, sonorous roar of unimaginable destruction from deeper in the Garden's belly.

Then for a fleeting instant she was airborne, but the momentary freedom was cut short by a tremendous impact. Even over the shrieking death of the Garden she heard her bones snap, felt raw-edged steel spear through her, the jagged bursts of pain shockingly clear before the black numbness of oblivion swirled out of the depths of her dazed mind to claim her.

It's a good thing I'm over the whole 'cliffhanger every chapter' thing, isn't it? Sigh...

The next chapter's almost done already (I cut this in half as it was getting too long) so it'll be less than a year before this is resolved.

Probably.

If the format seems a little odd, this is the first Word-format document I've uploaded (Previously I've used HTML format). Still working on it...