Disclaimer:

Star Ocean 3: Till the End of Time is the creation and property of Tri-Ace, who created this wonderful anime/video game series, and the publishers at SquareEnix. Anything not attributed to them belongs to their respective owners, such as references to Cowboy Bebop (the Swordfish II) that is a creation of Sunrise and Shinichiro Watanabe. This story is written purely just for fun, guys; please for God's sake, don't sue me! I'm just a high school student with too much free time on his hands! On the other hand, any specific author created characters I created for this fic (despite how unoriginal they may be at times) are mine. So without further adieu, let's get on with the show!

The Surgeon General's Warning:

Read at your own risk. This might take you on a trip to some happy lovey-dovey place.

Oh, and yes, there's a very high Fayt x Maria coupling possible here, or I could completely screw everybody over and do the unexpected, ja?

Fates Intertwined

Chapter 06:

A Promise

A Star Ocean 3 fanfic by James "Ray" Edwards

Nightmares are the stuff of dreams, twisted by the human imagination as a reflection (perhaps) of an individual's sub-consciousness. What may lay there, no fashionable researcher has yet to unravel those secrets for the surgical scrutiny of modern science. For all the miraculous space age technology available today that had rendered the very concept of a "Doctor" nearly obsolete, scientists could still not breach the sacred sanctuary of the sentient soul. Admittedly it was frail and easily manipulated by sentient hands or even mere dreams.

That night the Swordfish II left the lush world of Vanguard III into the cold, black depths of space, a suffocating air of anxiety and dread hanging over its few crew. Not a word had been exchanged since they had departed, jumping to gravitic warp with all due haste. The stealthy trek back to the village of Whipple had been done in solemn silence, much in the same as the eventual infiltration aided by active camouflage that rendered the Earthlings invisible to the eye, with a drugged Nicholas in tow. Meena had been overjoyed to see her brother alive well and soon fell asleep peacefully by his bed side, murmuring of happier times perhaps.

They would've left sooner, if the young man hadn't insisted they remain behind a little longer. He had a small favor to repay, after all. An amiable lullaby, the notes of sweet tinkling bells, soothed the slumbering household as the pair of "aliens" left the premises under the cover of night. Whatever good feelings that Fayt and Maria might've held in their hearts from the tearful reunion between those two children was left in that house as well.

The trek "home," back to the Swordfish II, was the beginning of the end.

Remarkably, they were like a duo of world weary adventurers, each to their own anguish. Fayt intermittently shot darting glances at his light blue-haired companion, though unwilling to meet her gaze, he was eerily drawn to the high collar of her typical garb. He wanted to see her throat and simultaneously he did not want to see the truth at all. Even with the adaptive artificial epidermis nanospray that had nicely blended in with the natural tone of his skin, erasing the scars that would've been left had he let his wounds heal normally, he could still feel them all over his arms, hands, and face. They had become haunting phantom scars that would never leave his consciousness.

Maria was just as perturbed. Waking up in the evening to find blood splashed upon her throat, which feeling rather sore, marred by a series of dark purpled bruises and bleeding shallow punctures wasn't her idea of a restful slumber. Someone had tried to kill her, but who? Eight would've surely detained him or her and then alerted Maria to the intruder. None of it happened, and when she asked, the AI was positively bawling at the mere sight of her, much mothering and pampering ensued promptly before the leader of Quark could even work her way out of the infirmary. Without a lead, all she could do was file her fears away and brood about something else: Norton.

It wasn't the scoundrel's death that worried or anything in that macabre manner; it was the how and the why. Back then in the bandit hideout, Maria had spoken his name instinctively without a single thought, covering her surprise with a veiled half-truth. How had she known about him? All she was the Rezerbian about to shoot Fayt...

Fayt.

There was something wrong with him, that much she was certain, as she stood alone in the grand, expressive confines of the Swordfish II's bridge. A broad breathtaking panorama of shooting stars greeted her through the nearly uninterrupted view, recreated by the inconceivable data being poured in from the ship's plethora of sensors. It was an expansive optical illusion she oft-appreciated not only for its tactile value but also its beauty, a commodity that was rare even today.

She had tried to broach the subject of Norton tactfully to him, but he only shied away from her presence even more. His dilating green eyes were always seemingly riveted to her throat, which she had dressed properly with the appropriate first aid and bandages underneath her clothes, every time she turned around to face him. Leingod looked far worse than the last time she had seen him, and it left a bittersweet taste in her mouth that grew ever deeper the more she thought about it. He was ashen faced, pale to the bone, like a man who had seen a ghost, haunted by something he dare not say, always fidgeting and clutching at his hands and arms.

If there was ever anyone guiltier of a...

"NO!" Maria shouted abruptly with great vehemence in her voice, slamming a clenched fist down upon the arm rest of the pilot's chair with a deafening boom. Her violet-hued light blue eyes were ablaze with a frightening anger that she rarely ever as she shuddered visibly in a barely restrained rage, an aura of glowing energy manifesting about her person. "I won't accept this, I won't!"

Fayt was different! He would never...

A cold disembodied voice rasped a harsh whisper for her ears only:

Liar.

Maria gasped, a single razor edged word cutting her down to the knees in an instant, laced with the double-edged elixir of - truth. Her hold on her raging powers slackened, the aura of power disintegrating into nothing, as the young woman struggled to keep herself from collapsing utterly onto the floor in a helpless sweet. A rough sheen of sweat was evident on her feverish complexion, once angry eyes shuddering with panicked anguish. The truth hurt more than anything she could've ever fathomed because she knew...knew that Fayt had tried to kill her and failed.

She would've shed tears then, if only she had any left to give, save for a hollow emptiness that echoed the gaping black chasm in her heart.

A day; there were seconds upon minutes, minutes upon hours, and twenty four hours in a day.

He sighed loathingly at the reflection.

How long had he been staring at this cruel caricature of himself in this full-length mirror that he himself had asked to be created? Who was this man, this pale, sallow-faced creature that gazed back with hollow, haggard eyes, haunted by brutal wraiths behind those glassy shards of green? Who was he, or was he even a man anymore? What were these scars that ran with red on hands, arms, and face? Whose blood was it, his or hers?

Who am I? What am I? Fayt asked himself helpless as he gazed unto the mirror, transfixed by the grim shell of a human being that was Fayt Leingod. He couldn't recognize this person anymore, and he could hardly fathom what he was doing in this body. It just wasn't his anymore.

A miniscule voice, distant yet close all at once, in the back of his head had other ideas in mind, however. It smashed itself doggedly upon the faceless gates of ignorance that guarded the sanctum of the blue-haired young man's soul, blood and ashes splattering upon the soiled surface. The gates were invincible at this time, infallible, but that could not last forever as a word from its lips slipped through the cracks left by the acidic life blood that flowed through the voice's veins.

Denial.

Fayt shuddered under the punishing gravity of that word. It was true, of course, because all he had been doing for the past day, since they had left Vanguard III, was to lie in denial about what had transpired. No words could properly define his experiences over the past two days. Ever since his rescue by the enigmatic Maria Traydor, strange and unnatural things had been happening to him. He had been perfectly normal young man, or so Fayt hoped, before meeting her and all of sudden, he was having hallucinations, hearing voices, and a long list of other disturbing phenomena that made no sense what so ever.

And I tried to murder - someone -in cold blood, without even a reason. I just...I just wanted to kill her, the young man thought to himself as he examined his quivering hands once again. It was starting to become his habit to ring his hands restlessly, checking for anymore blood and grime that had escaped his notice earlier.

Why did he do it? Why did he want to kill the only person who seemed to genuinely care about him under his circumstances by strangling her to death in her sleep no less? The Earthling boy had already long come to a conclusion many hours ago; the truth, however, just tended to take some time to travel to the present. Then again, it could've just been denial all along.

"A monster," Fayt said in a listless tone, the pupils of his eyes growing into hollow black pools of nothingness, "That's right, I'm a monster. Only a monster could kill without provocation, without any good reason at all."

Lulled by the sweet ambrosia of guilt, the young man sank deeper into the grave depression that ate away at his soul. He had been there in her room; the aching scar in his memories that still bled with frenzied madness was proof. If only he could prove his guilt! They had to believe him; they just had to - but why wasn't there any proof, no evidence except for what had long been erased by himself? Oh, he was a fool, a miserably stark raving mad fool. They'd lock him away in a mental institute or put him on medication the moment he confessed! Would there be no justice for him?

"Gaou, Mister Fayt, what's wrong with you? Why won't you talk to me?" Eight's avatar materialized, this time a miniscule fairy of light that danced miserably about his face. "Something happened, didn't it? Didn't it?"

"Yes, something terrible."

"Tell me, Mister Fayt! Tell me what happened! I...I don't think you're a monster. You're a-a...a good person! Why else would Miss Maria want you to be her friend?"

A good person? Friend? The blue-haired young man laughed darkly in contempt of such foreign words, his self-image forever shattered. A monster wasn't a friend! A monster wasn't even a person, much less good or bad! He had tried to murder Maria, dammit, another human being just like that! How much simpler did it have to be?

"Didn't you see on your sensors?" If Fayt had ever doubted that an artificial construct couldn't show anger, he was about to be proven quite wrong at this time.

"GAOU! I've told you again and again that there's nothing on my security system's audio, visual, or anything, period! I've checked them again and again, and all I see is you going in and then you leaving Miss Maria's room exactly five minutes and thirty-three seconds after you went in. There's nothing, nothing at all, Mister Fayt. All I saw is you stumbling into the infirmary like you had just been attacked by some wild animal and a bunch blood samples that make no sense at all! Gaou, it's giving me a headache just thinking about it."

Computer's can get headaches too? Wow, when will wonders of the newest "New Century" cease, huh?

"Please, Mister Fayt; please, talk to me," Eight spoke suddenly in a sad poignant voice that made his heart bleed red.

Reluctantly, Fayt raised his gaze to meet the new presence that had summoned him. Gone was the whimsical angelic cat or the persistent fairy of light that had mothered and cajoled the cast iron cage that bound his mental cell for the past day, she had come to meet him in person, or as close as an artificial consciousness could, considering she had been there all along. This interstellar ship, the Swordfish II, was Eight's body. Wherever he went she was already there, in the floors, in the walls, in every terminal, in every bulkhead; she was breathing life into he and Maria, sustaining this delicate biosphere with the minutest of calculations and by the nanosecond adjustments.

There she stood, the sacred representation of herself that expressed an incomprehensible attention to detail, a little girl of no more than eight or nine years old that stood only as high as Fayt's waist. Every facet of this being of light radiated warmth that surely could've only been love right down to her baby blue eyes, the sunny auburn tresses that spilled to her waist, framed by the sleeveless white sundress upon her healthy skin. She was a beautiful child; even the most miserable creature in the world would acknowledge this simple fact.

Right before it tore her throat out, the young man thought bitterly with a cold somber expression on his haggard, restless face. "What?"

"Etou, so what do you - think, Mister Fayt?" the little girl replied shyly, staring at her bare feet as she fidgeted with the folds of her white sundress.

She was certainly hurt by the metallic bite in his voice, but she couldn't falter now. Something wasn't just wrong with the Leingod boy but with Maria too. Her big sister had come in with wounds on her throat and a healthy smattering of blood and bruises as well, the blood samples being just as unidentifiable. Gladly would she trade all the sophisticated lifeblood of machines and state-of-the-art electronics to be frail flesh and blood, a human being. Maybe that way she could better understand what it was that plagued her few, yet precious companions.

"About what?"

"I usually don't let anybody see this at all, even at parties or my birthday."

Now, the slight curiosity within his caged soul stirred. Fayt had never even considered that an artificial intelligence could care enough to consider a birthday party. "Birthday?"

"Yes, I was born four years ago to this day when Miss Maria was just fourteen. We've been keeping track ever since; in fact, I'll be five years old tomorrow!"

"I see...you must be close."

"Of course, Maria's my big, bi-iiiiig sister! ...But you know, you're the first person to see me like this - anou - so I-I, well, I trust you, Fayt."

"So please, please talk to me! I-I...I need to know what's happened. I don't know; I just don't know anything at all. I'm...I'm scared, Fayt. I don't know what to do. I feel like..."

An A.I. could feel fear? What the?

"You're afraid?"

"Y-Yes, it's illegal, I know, but Maria wanted me to be as real as any other real person, so - so that's the way I am."

Great, here was an A.I. without an emotion suppressor matrix built-in. That very act must've broken several federal codes under the Artificial Life Protection Act. Will wonders ever cease with the enigmatic Maria Traydor?

"...So what do you feel?"

"I'm - I feel like I'm losing both Maria and you. Something's changed. You're - different; Maria's different too."

"Is she?"

Eight said nothing, and for a moment, her pure blue eyes a clear reflection of the black storm of anguish raging within. Right then, the Earthling had to admire how "real" it felt to be in the presence of this holographic representation of the ship's artificial intelligence that was honestly no different from another "human" being. Maria has certainly done an amazing job raising her.

Wait a second, did I just think what I thought I thought? Fayt deliberated in mild astonishment, taking a step back from the iron bars of his mental cage. His mood shifted from its former depression into a more scientific mode of thought that felt old and dusty, but thankfully familiar. Another sentient raising an AI? That's a novel idea. I'd never even thought about it that way before. Sure, you can program plenty of sub-routines and other emotive matrixes into its human interface protocols, but to be perfectly honest, they're really just kids. Maybe I should see about taking a class in AI Theory when I get back to BSU.

There was a spark in his green eyes then, a spark of life that colored his pallid, ashen flesh ever so slightly. Perhaps it was a glimmer of his former self, the Fayt Leingod before this terrible incident, but it was also a clear opportunity that Eight recognized within an inconceivable trillionth of a degree. Her positronic brain was screaming an unceasing litany of ethics violations clear across her circuits that what she was about to do was wrong, was selfish, and she should be shut down for maintenance right away. On the other hand, her intangible "heart" in this cold body of state of the art avionics, the best ship-grade AAA hulls, bristling with enough hidden weaponry to make a destroyer-class jealous never felt more alive.

She had her doubts... Well, now, wasn't that an absurd thought? A computer washaving doubts? It was all she could do not to burst into tears and laugh with joy. Maybe she had caught the same bizarre malady as the rest of her human crew, a wicked phenomenon that festered mania and weakness in the hearts of sentients. However, Eight was determined to do something about the inevitable, perhaps even alter the course of events to come. She had seen...a vision. It was impossible, of course; computers can't possibly have precognitive powers and nor could they hallucinate either.

What she proposed was a most contemptible covenant, but she had to keep Maria and Fayt together, somehow. Her heart had nearly broken, or at least she thought the sudden rupture of several circuit breakers blowing out in her mainframe had been the equivalent of the human analogy, when she was confronted by what was to come. There was no way to tell when it would happen or why it would happen, but she had seen enough. Eight was certain she would never live to discover what had transpired, her remaining time numbered by the hour. It saddened her to know she would be leaving so soon; nonetheless, she would do her best for the well-being of her precious friends.

"Fayt, can you promise me something, a covenant?" she spoke earnestly, snapping the young man suddenly out of reverie. The light in his face was fading fast, but the spark in his green eyes still held, at least for a moment longer. "Promise me this, Fayt Leingod, that you'll take care of Maria Traydor. ...Please promise me that everything will be all right - when I'm gone."

Fayt lurched back in surprise, tumbling off the bench he had been sitting upon in a blur of flailing limbs. His paling face was a mask of unspeakable fear and dread as he rapidly backpedaled away into a wall with a loud bang, speaking in near incoherent gibberish. "WHA-WHA? W-What are you talking about, Eight?"

"Please, promise me! Swear it!" the avatar begged him, tears coming to her anguished filled depths of blue. Her voice was breaking, straining beneath the great burden that came crashing down on her shoulders. "I-I don't think I'll get a chance to show this to her..."

"H-Huh?"

Suddenly, a deadening shiver illuminated his thoughts: shock. It was pure and uncomprehending shock that set his green eyes ablaze with inexplicable emotion. If anything he would've wished for the blissful sleep granted by a phase blaster straight between the eyes right then. Of course, it was not to be; no, most certainly not. She was - she was - she was holding his hands; those small beautiful hands that glowed with the vitality of her own skin. He could feel, unerringly,the flesh and blood that was warm and supple to the touch. Eight was real! But how? That's impossible; it had to be a joke. He had to be hallucinating again, or was it...

"A miracle," Fayt breathed in a whisper of wonder, as if he were afraid the sound of his own voice would dispel the magic of this moment.

She smiled. "This body was a gift, Fayt, from the UMN for my fifth birthday."

"The U-M-N, you mean the 'Net?"

"Yes."

"But that's-!"

"Shhhh, no need to worry your silly little head over it. It's just like you said, 'A miracle.' And just maybe - maybe I'm just getting worked up over nothing..."

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"Gaou, my birthday's tomorrow, silly head."

Fayt blinked.

"Oh...I-I...I see." Now, the Earthling began to understand the significance of the honor that had been bestowed upon him.

"You know, I think I'm just just worrying too much! Isn't that right? Teeheehee. Everything will be just fine right, Fayt? All we need is a little time and everything will be the same again. 'Right as rain,' like Cliffy says. Everyone'll be so happy together again."

"Eight," the young man raised his voice. He didn't like where this was going one bit. She just couldn't be serious! I have to tell her that she's making a big mistake! I can't be trusted around Maria. What if - what if I tried to kill her again? It was me, dammit! Who else? It was me.

"But, Fayt, promise me..."

"Eight, I..."

"Please, Fayt, promise me... I've already said everything that needs to be said. You'll..." Eight croaked, swallowing back the broiling flood of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. Was this what it was like to really be human; to feel pain and loss? Her hands were - were shaking. Was this what it was like to say goodbye? Why did it have to be to him? Why couldn't I say goodbye to Maria myself? No! No, I can't think like that. Nothing b-bad...is going to happen...to any of us! I'll - I'll do my best, so nothing will happen!

"...Y-You'll ta-take care of Miss Ma-ria, really good, won't you?"

Blue eyes met green eyes and Fayt Leingod's fate was sealed. He couldn't pull away from them, was powerless before that earnest gaze. Those were not the eyes of the living but the damned; beautiful eyes that would be among his many nightmares to come. The AI truly did know she was going to die. Death; what an absurd "human" concept to apply to an artificial intelligence, a computer program made to imitate sentient life.

Damn it all to hell.

"I promise, Eight."

"Do you swear to act with whatever power vested within, or you shall ever gain, for Maria's sake?"

"Yes, I swear. She - she had already promised me, probably long before we ever met, that she would do the same - for my sake."

"Thank you."

The being of light then performed another feat worthy of a miracle. She hugged him, much to Fayt's surprise. Conscious physical contact was something - he had not been expecting ever since the incident. He had convinced himself quite a while ago that he was a monster, a would-be murderer that deserved no sympathy or tender emotion. Nonetheless, here he was being hugged by a "person" who was as tangible as Ma...yes, Sophia; flesh and blood, warm. Would his precious childhood friend ever look him in the eye again, when she found out about the truth?

"Oh, anou, by the way," Eight giggled with a touch self-depreciating humor as she pulled away from his side. She wore a warming smile, trying her best to mask the crystalline tears in her baby blue eyes that sparkled in the light. "She wants to see you on the bridge, Mister Fayt."

The blue-haired young man met her gaze sullenly, but knew that there was no retreat left for him now. He was now oath bound to face what he feared the most and would have to confront it. "The bridge."

"Yes, we'll be dropping out of gravitic warp in five," the AI informed him, nodding knowingly, "Cliffy and Misty M are going to be there too, so - we'll be home soon."

"Home, huh?" he murmured in resignation. Maybe it wasn't too late to tell Eight. At least, she deserved to know...

Fayt rose uneasily, determined to speak the truth, when his eyes caught an enthralling gleam of gold that silenced his thoughts. An exquisite necklace, adorned with a small golden plate of some alien material that was glowing alive with an intravenous complex pattern of veins and sigils on its rectangular body, was hanging around the auburn-haired girl's neck by a silvery chain. The plate radiated with a kind of ethereal essence that he had never encountered previously, and oddly, he could feel his previous worries ebbing away. In fact, all the blue-haired young man wanted to do was go meet Maria on the bridge; he was already running late anyway.

"Is something wrong, Fayt?" Eight asked, unawares of his interest in her strange necklace.

He shook his head. "No, I'll be going now."

And Fayt did just that, leaving the workshop at a steady, yet strangely eerie pace.

Author's Notes:

A'ight, guys, I'd like to apologize for the "longness" and shear angst of this chapter. Originally, I was going to do an action chapter (finally), but - well - one thing lead to another...so yeah. Anyways, many thanks to the reviewers and readers alike, and remember my homies, I take my feedback with the good and the bad, so don't hesitate to holler. I'd also like to apologize if there's some grammatical, style, or some shiz-nit-hit-the-fan screw up.

Oh, and Guv'nor Tristan Amaryllis, a big "doumo arigato, Mister Roboto!" for raising up the yellow flags on me. To be honest, I haven't finished the game or even come close to the point of recruiting Albel into my party, so I wouldn't know about that facet of Fayt's personality or how he reacts in Disc 2. In fact, I still don't know how I was supposed to have recruited Adray or Roger before the "Escort the Queen of Aquaria" story arc occurs. My characterizations are solely based upon experiences through the heroes' adventures for the most of Disc 1, the little snippets I catch from the online community, and my own little bit of magic. Yes, I put out the AU marker way back in the beginning, in all honesty, for many good reasons, sir.

(Cue the "Mr. Nice Guy" Pose (TM)!)

Peace out, and look forward to the next chapter, guys! (And really I promise we'll get back to the fighting!)