Every mission loadout is unique. There's a rhythm that goes with them, a temp where you prepare your gear and bond with your teammates. If all goes according to plan and you have a good loadout, you'll barely need to talk to your squad onsite.
Most of the time, we're silly. You could see it as a defense mechanism, trying to avoid the nature of the work we do, but in truth it's just a group of people who enjoy each other's company. Seifer and I trade puns, each vying for the biggest groan from the assembled crew. Selphie sings songs, overblown ballads detailing our glorious victories over the pasta monsters from planet Linguini-4. Zell constructs elaborate fictions, starting with a few simple bits of trivia about our destination and adding layers of untruth with such subtlety that he almost talked the lot of us into believing that the town of Balamb once elected a mackerel as its mayor. And when the laughter starts to subside, Squall will chime in, delivering a punchline that's never more than five words in length, talking so softly we have to strain to hear him, but which leaves us holding our sides with the hilarity of it all.
This is different, though. It barely seems like we're a team at this point. We're just a group of people going to our jobs, sharing a flight. And at the same time, we're acutely aware that it could be the last time we're ever together again.
As we sit onboard the Ragnarok, I find myself taking stock of these people, my family. I realize that my life is genuinely up for grabs this evening. It rests in the hands of the people around me. That fact should terrify me, but it doesn't. If my friends can't keep me alive, if they can't win this battle, no one can.
The plan is a good one. Bold, of course, but it's Xu's, so that's to be expected. Knowing that she believes in it is enough for me. She wouldn't present us with any solution unless she was convinced it would work.
We listen as she sets out the details. We take our assignments. And then, we just sort of... sit there. Waiting. We don't talk, we don't ask questions. We just wait for arrival. The only change in the routine is when the ship heads into a storm. It too, is traveling to Balamb Garden. The lightning flashes right outside the window, rain pelting against the hull in anger. The first crash of thunder comes from my right, and it's loud enough that most of us jump reflexively.
When the storm shows no signs of letting up, Nida rises to his feet. The ship is pitching pretty violently, but you'd think he was on solid ground. He makes his way forward, and disappears into the cabin. I fasten my safety harness, knowing he might opt for some creative flying.
Other than that, I close my eyes and wait. Nothing else happens until we reach the midpoint of our journey, the stage at which we part ways. We're almost out of the storm for now, but we'll have to turn back into it when we head to Garden. We lurch to our feet with varying degrees of dexterity and stagger to the hangar, where the Discovery is waiting, gleaming and silver.
We have now reached a point of true awkwardness. Saying goodbye when it could mean "goodbye forever." None of us have prepared for this moment. All the training in the world can't ready you for it, and we just stare at each other, dumbfounded. Irvine makes the first move, smoothing the way for us all.
He steps aside from the pack and walks over to the Discovery, running an appreciative hand over her hull.
"So," he says, turning to the rest of us. He's got the barest hint of a smile on his lips, but his eyes undercut it. There's a little fear behind the bravado, and that sums it up nicely.
Xu moves next, her hands clasped in front of her and not a trace of emotion on her face. The only thing that gives away her concern is the fact that her right thumb is tapping out a small rhythm on her left. It's the only flaw I've ever seen in her poker face, and I've been relying on it for years. If she knew it was there, I honestly believe she'd cut her thumb off.
We don't hug or wish each other luck, though. We don't need to. Somehow, Xu and I have moved beyond that stage in our friendship. I catch her eye and we nod at each other, and that's it. We've said what we need to say.
Selphie goes last, and she does hug, squeezing each of us in turn. She stops at Squall, and when she wraps her arms around him, she murmurs, "Make him pay." He places a hand on the back of her head and nods.
"I will," he whispers back.
And then she, too, joins her team. They climb into the ship, and we take a step back as the hangar door opens. The Discovery pitches into space, powerless for a moment, before Selphie engages the engine. The ship vanishes within moments, a shimmering dot on the horizon. As the hangar door closes, we start to move again, turning around and heading back into the storm, heading home.
The rest of us grab the remainder of our gear – parachutes and oxygen masks – and start to suit up. We'll be doing a HALO Jump directly into the Quad. Hard jump, abysmal weather, small landing area. I seriously consider – not for the first time – smacking Seifer upside the head for ruining the route in through the Training Center.
We're climbing, the ship ascending through the clouds as Nida takes us above the threat envelope. We're not exactly sure if Mallis has set up any kind of anti-air emplacements, but none of us want to find out the hard way.
The gangplank lowers again as the ship starts to hover, and we all start putting on our masks.
"Wait," Squall says, lowering the mask from his face. The ship banks and Squall sways a little more than the rest of us. I confess I'm a little concerned about him. He's been out of action for too long, he's weaker than he should be. I want to tell him not to go, I want to go with him, I want to keep him safe, but I know I can't do that any more. My job is not protecting Squall – if it ever was. It's supporting him. He'll go no matter what anyone says, so I'll just do my part to keep him alive.
"There's something... I should say something..." he says. "We're going in there to fight him, to take back what we lost. And..." Squall shakes his head, lost for words.
"If I may," I supply. "I'm reminded of something a great leader once said. It's as appropriate now as then. He said, 'This battle is Garden's destiny, and our destiny ... I don't want to have any regrets. I don't want anyone to look back and regret this day.'"
He smiles a little, at once relieved I spoke for him and embarrassed at the compliment.
"That does it for me!" Zell quips, slamming a fist into his other hand.
Seifer shrugs. "You heard Selphie. Let's make 'em pay."
As simple as that. We fit on our facemasks and line up for the jump, plummeting thousands of feet through pelting rain, aiming for an almost impossibly small target. The storm rages around us, and we have once again come home.
AN:
Tremendously sorry about the delay. I think I've alluded to my computer troubles in the past, but this time, my computer flat-out died. Wouldn't boot up for anything. All my QoH stuff is trapped on it, and I shell out for a new computer. We're not far from the end of the story, though, and you have my solemn promise that I won't abandon it. I will finish this story, no matter how long the delay is.