"I have reviewed all the available evidence," Laguna said, watching Odine from across the desk, "and made my decision." The diminutive doctor squirmed uncomfortably.
"You have conducted research against my specific orders, not only on Junction Machine Ellone, but on countless other forbidden projects. Your own records indicate that you have not only continued to conduct human research, but that you kidnapped people to serve as unwilling test subjects.
"You have misappropriated the funds I continued to send you by misrepresenting your budgetary needs and then siphoning off the extra for your own personal luxury.
"You have arranged for the disappearance of your research assistants when it suits your needs. Sometimes, because their findings have contradicted your own, sometimes, because you wish to claim credit for their work or eliminate a possible competitor. You have silenced anyone who sought to reveal the truth about your illegal activities."
"You have no..." Odine interrupted.
"Be quiet!" Laguna exclaimed, the harsh tone in his voice silencing the small man. "I have more than enough evidence to see you executed for your crimes!" He took a breath, resuming a more even tenor.
"All the evidence leads me to one conclusion, Doctor: that your research practices now are no different than they were under Adel. As such, you must be punished. While I would like to see you hanged for your crimes, I am aware that you have rendered significant services to our country during my tenure. You helped seal away Adel. You worked to save Rinoa. You rescued Seifer from Time Compression. And just recently, you aided us in preserving history.
"In light of these efforts, I am allowing you to decide your own fate."
Laguna reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and produced a small envelope. He placed it on the desk, and slid it over to Odine, who took it. Inside, the doctor saw a train ticket.
"That is a one-way ticket to Fisherman's Horizon. It departs in one hour. Where you go from there is up to you. As of this moment, I have seized your lab, your home, and all your assets. You may leave the country with the clothes on your back and whatever money you have in your wallet. Once that train departs, if you remain in the country, you will be arrested and tried for war crimes, treason, kidnapping, murder, embezzlement, and anything else I feel like adding to the indictment. If you ever re-enter the country, have any contact with any citizens of Esthar, or take action against my country, you may expect the same."
:Laguna stood up and crossed to the door, opening it. He stood there and addressed Odine again.
"Kiros and Ward are waiting outside, with a squadron of my troops to escort you to the train station. I suggest you take advantage of my generous offer and, before you think to question whether or not I have the courage to follow through on my threat, ask yourself if I'm a man who makes threats lightly." Laguna paused, and then looked at Odine with a cold gaze that chilled the scientist.
"Would I still be President if I were?"
Fuming inside, Odine rose, clutching the ticket tightly in his fist. He moved past Laguna without speaking, and into the anteroom of the presidential office. As he walked, Kiros and Ward flanked him, followed close behind by a small group of soldiers.
"Escort him to the train," Laguna called from the door. "And if he tries anything, shoot him."
* *
Back at Esthar Garden, the high-ranking SeeDs comprising the First Team gathered in the infirmary. From behind the glass, they observed Squall, lying silently in his hospital bed, unmoving. Rinoa sat next to him, holding his hand.
"So what's the diagnosis?" Seifer asked.
"He's in a coma," Quistis answered, "induced by the stress of traveling to the past and unforeseen side effects from the Junction Machine."
"Will... will he be okay?" Selphie this time, looking through the glass, one hand pressed up against it.
"He's fully expected to come out of it. It's just a question of when. All he needs is time to recover."
"It's time we don't have," Irvine supplied. "Every day that we're not taking action is another day Mallis entrenches himself deeper at Balamb Garden."
"Yeah," Zell added. "We don't know what he's doing to the captives, but we shouldn't be giving him more time in which to do it."
At this statement, Seifer scowled, clenching his jaw. Zell saw this and placed an arm around Seifer's waist, knowing that the taller man's thoughts had turned to Fujin.
Quistis nodded, watching Squall and Rinoa. It occurred to her that fortunes had reversed, and it seemed like just a short while ago when she watched Squall caring for an unconscious Rinoa.
"So what do we do?" Seifer said. "Do we just wait for Squall to snap out of it?"
"No," Quistis said. "We carry on in Squall's absence. We relieve him of his command and appoint an interim commander."
"Yeah, but who's going to take charge?" Zell queried.
"I am," Quistis shot back. All eyes turned to her. "I'm the highest-ranked SeeD next to Squall, and the best-informed as to the workings of this Garden. If Squall disagrees with my decision, he can reprimand me when he wakes up. Right now, we need a leader and decisive action, not a comatose commander. I trust no one objects."
She looked over her assembled friends, and no one spoke back. Quistis pressed her way into Squall's room, causing Rinoa to stand.
"Don't get up," the blonde said. She crossed over to Squall and reached down to his neck, fishing around beneath the hospital gown. In short order, she found the object of her search and pulled it free.
Leaving the room, Quistis returned to the waiting area, facing her friends. She opened her palm to reveal Squall's Griever pendant, which she hung over her neck. The pendant shone against the dark fabric of her uniform.
"I have command," she said. "I'll be working out of Squall's office from here on out. It's now 1300 hours. I'd like to see everyone for a briefing and status report in the conference room at 1600 to bring me up to speed."
She looked over the room again, then back to Squall.
"That's it, everyone," she nodded. "Dismissed."
She turned on her heel and strode out of the infirmary, heading for Squall's office to start her work. No one else left, continuing to watch through the glass.
* *
Odine sat on the train, glowering out the window. He seethed with contempt, mind reeling with the indignity of his situation. He, the great Odine, had turned into a man without a country, an exile, a common criminal.
Laguna had stolen everything for which Odine had ever worked. His years of research, his lab, all taken from him. He no longer had a home, let alone a place to conduct his experiments. All because of Loire's petty jealousy, his inability to accept Odine's brilliance.
Odine looked down at the napkin in his hand, on which he'd started scribbling the plans for a death ray, one that could obliterate Laguna's palace from the other side of the globe. He imagined the glee of firing it, of seeing a beam of light pierce the atmosphere, and then, nothing. Silence falling over the presidential palace as every living creature inside fell dead.
Scowling, he scratched out the plans. Such a device would require an incomprehensible amount of power, far beyond anything even the most advanced technologies could produce. He tore the napkin to shreds, cursing.
"I'll make him pay," he muttered. "Zomehow, I'll make him pay."
He stared out the window, watching the lights of the tunnel streak past. In the back of his mind, a plan started to form. The flames of vengeance burned more brightly within him, and Odine knew how to strike back at the man who'd wronged him: by offering his services to the one man who hated Laguna Loire more than he did.
The train emerged from the tunnel and into the daylight. Odine disembarked and made his way up into the station, emerging into the harsh light of day. He shuffled through the sleepy town, so different from his native country, until he came to its car rental service. Looking at the money in his wallet, he found that he had just enough remaining to hire a car to his next destination. He approached a car.
"Where ya going?" the driver asked.
"Garden," Odine said, eyes gleaming as he contemplated his revenge. "Balamb Garden."
* *
Quistis paced the length of Squall's office, file folder in hand. She'd spent the last hour reading through all the available documents on SeeD's outstanding contracts and making mental notes on which warriors to assign to the trouble spots. Fortunately, Squall kept his office rigorously organized, so she could find any information she needed with a minimum of searching. She walked back to the desk and sat down, placing the folder in hand on top of one of the piles she'd made, sorting the contracts in order of priority.
The door to the office opened and Selphie stepped inside, looking grave. She stopped just inside the door and took in the entire office, as though searching for something.
"Something the matter?" Quistis asked.
"It's just so... different." She paused, looking at her friend, seated in Squall's chair. "To see someone else at Squall's desk, I mean."
"I know," Quistis replied. "He spends so much time here you just expect to see him. I keep waiting to hear his footsteps on the stairs, coming back from one of the other floors." She smiled wistfully. "It hasn't happened yet, though."
Selphie moved across the room and sat in one of the chairs opposite Squall's desk.
"Is there something I can do for you, Sel?"
"Yeah," she nodded. "I want to fill you in on something Squall had me look into."
Quistis looked up from the papers in front of her. "We'll cover that at the briefing. Just make sure you include it in your report, and we'll talk about it then."
"No," Selphie shook her head. "This was an off-the-record assignment. There's nothing about it on the Network. I have the only records of it, and I'm keeping them somewhere... safe. It's best if we talk about this in private."
"Fair enough," Quistis said, closing the file and folding her hands on the desk. "What's up?"
"The day you proposed your plan to Squall, he got a report from Avatar that both of us thought was a little suspicious, and he asked me to send a team – unofficially – to investigate."
"Okay..."
"It concerned Videlic Arms, a weapons manufacturer out of Galbadia."
"I'm familiar with them," Quistis nodded. "They do a lot of work with developing new technologies with military applications. They're the ones who installed the weapons systems on the Ragnarok and her sister ships, back when they were the flagships of Esthar."
"Right. Well, almost immediately following the capture of Balamb Garden, Videlic cancelled all their current projects – some of them at great expense – and started work on something new. They claimed it was for an important client who was going to pay through the nose for this new weapon, but no records exist as to the client's identity. What's more, there aren't any records of any kind of payment."
"I see where you're going with this," Quistis said, "but so far, this mystery client could still be a government trying to avoid scrutiny."
"Well, there's also the fact that they've been shuttling scientists, engineers, and technicians back and forth to Balamb Garden. This has been fairly constant since Mallis took over. And they've been producing next to nothing in their factories, until an order comes down for a single part. It gets manufactured, then sent to Garden under cover of darkness and strictest security."
"That's certainly more convincing. Do we know what they're working on?"
"So far, we have only a project name: WarMech."
* *
Mallis crossed Balamb Garden's main concourse, savoring the quiet, the perfect order he'd imposed on the place. Not so very long ago, the main concourse buzzed and hummed with the constant activity of Garden's operation: students chatting on the way to class, SeeDs swapping stories about their latest missions, junior cadets playing cards... Now, silence. Nothing remained to disturb his thoughts, nothing penetrated the silence save the rushing of water and the footsteps of his soldiers patrolling the hallway. He'd burned away the chaos and left only order and discipline.
As he moved from the library to the elevator, his ears, long attuned to the sounds of conflict, perked up, catching the sounds of a disturbance at the front gate. He altered his course to investigate.
"...and I have to zee him!" exclaimed a person, arguing with the sentries Mallis had posted.
Its accent unmistakable, Mallis recognized the voice at once: Odine. The man who betrayed Queen and country for profit. The lowliest vermin to ever slither its way out of the pit. Interest piqued, he strode rapidly towards the gate.
"What seems to be the problem?" he asked, materializing behind his soldiers.
"It's Odine," said one, pointing to the Doctor, who knelt before them, a rifle aimed at his skull.
"I can see that," he responded. "But that's not what I asked. Again: what seems to be the problem?"
"He's demanding an audience with you, General. He claims to have information you want."
"Doubtful," Mallis sneered. "Seize him. Take him to the detention center, to be executed at my leisure."
"What? Wait!" Odine screamed, as Mallis' troops hauled him away. "Mozt Dread Knight, I need to talk to you!"
* *
"...and zo Junction Machine Ellone had an unanticipated zide effect, for which Laguna exiled me. Zo I am here, at your mercy, Excellency..."
Mallis nodded, watching the doctor, who sat opposite him in Squall's former office.
"...and I can help you deztroy Laguna. All my knowledge, all my brilliance, everything I have, everything I am, I place at your feet..."
Mallis closed his eye, listening to the small man pleading for his life.
"...I will tell you everything I know about Laguna, about the boy Leonhart, about the new Garden, anything you want..."
"Enough," Mallis' eye snapped open. "I have long wished to bring you to justice. To repay you in kind for your treason against the Great Queen. The only suitable punishment is death. And yet..." Mallis' voice trailed off, and his eye closed. He cocked his head slightly, listening for something.
"And yet," the burning eye reopened, focusing on Odine once more. "My lady bids me to spare your life. She believes that you may yet redeem yourself."
More than the death sentence Mallis pronounced, this caused Odine great discomfort. He'd seen Adel's corpse in person, watched as a team under his direction encased the body in a cement cube ten feet thick. How, then, could the General still receive orders from her?
"Your Junction Machine," Mallis continued, thoughtful, "it is used to transfer the consciousness of one person into the body of another person at a different point in time?"
"That iz correct."
"And, presumably, there is a retrieval program, whereby you reclaim the traveler's consciousness, to drag it from this other time, back to the present?"
Odine nodded again.
Mallis leaned forward. "Could it then be used to seize the mind of someone in the past, and bring it into the present, forcing it upon a host body?"
Odine's mind whirled, rapidly reconfiguring the machine in his head.
"Well... az it currently operatez, no. But with minor work, it could be done."
"Would it require the girl Ellone?"
"No. I have gathered enough data to make her redundant."
"Pity," Mallis said. "But no matter – this is why the Great Queen had me spare your life. You will begin work on a new Junction Machine at once."
"But..." Odine spread his hands. "But I have no laboratory, no materialz, nothing!"
"You will be given all that," Mallis nodded. "You will have to reconstruct the machine from memory, but I have... faith... in you. You will make your way to Galbadia, to a company by the name of Videlic Arms, which is already working on a special project for me. They will expect you, and will accommodate you in whatever manner is necessary. You may go now."
Odine rose and hurried to the door of the room.
"Doctor?" called Mallis from the desk.
"Yez?"
"I trust I don't have to remind you of the penalty for failure."
Odine swallowed again and left the room, fairly running through the halls.
* *
Every day the blue coat men come.
Sometimes they stare at him, talking in whisper-voices, but he hears. He hears everything now.
Sometimes they enter his cell, and then darkness, but when the bugs wake him up again, he feels... stronger. More perfect than before.
Sometimes they show him images, flickering thought-fast on the screen. Sometimes, they don't use the screen, and the images assault his brain, so strong that he can't tell their thoughts from his thoughts.
A child cries, watching his mother crushed underneath the wreckage of a collapsed church.
A building explodes, rubble spewing everywhere.
A long-dormant volcano erupts, laving streaming down its side, engulfing the small town nestled in the valley below.
People scream. Feet march in unison.
Someone yells again and again and again.
Kill. Kill. Kill.