Chapter 15
Moving Again
(Rinoa)
Outside the Presidential Palace, along the blue glass road that encircled the building, a portion of Esthar's army staged themselves for departure. Soldiers in tight-fitting gray uniforms with colorful helmets directed traffic for a fleet of armored vehicles, some equipped with mounted guns, some overloaded with dozens more soldiers. The vehicles formed a long line along the road, several dozen strong at least.
(It's so quiet.)
When Rinoa imagined an army massing for battle, she pictured heavy trucks rumbling down dirt roads, their tires kicking up mud. Soldiers shouting out commands, war machines grinding and churning, shaking the earth. But Esthar's weapons were nearly silent, floating just above the surface of the road. There was no rumble in the earth, no stink of exhaust in the air. Only a gentle hum, emitted by all the vehicles as they carried their weapons, soldiers, and supplies to their designated staging areas.
"This should all go pretty quickly," Laguna said. He, Squall, Rinoa, and Dr. Odine were outside the main entrance to the Presidential Palace, facing out towards the soldiers. Behind the group stood a cluster of Odine's aides in white lab coats. "We've had the plans for a recovery operation drawn up for a while. Just never got around to it. Other priorities, you know?"
"Lunatic Pandora iz most dangerous weapon in ze world," Odine muttered. "Should be first priority."
"Yeah, yeah," Laguna said. He ran a hand absently through his long black hair. "But with a sorceress here to help guard the convoy, it should be a lot safer for everyone to cross the plains."
Rinoa watched the long lines of soldiers and cars and heavy artillery. Every movement of theirs looked so rehearsed, so intentional, so easy. For these soldiers, combat was their job, and marching off to battle was just another day at work. Unlike them, Rinoa never really got accustomed to combat, no matter how many battles she'd survived.
While these soldiers had years of training drilled into their minds until they could fight without thinking, every battle for Rinoa was a frenzy of improvisation and panic. She bit her lip.
(I hope they aren't depending on me too much.)
One of the Esthar soldiers broke off from the rest of the group and jogged up to Rinoa and the others. His uniform had bright red markings at the joints, indicating a higher rank than the other blue-clad soldiers. Rinoa didn't fully understand the Esthar military's rank structure, but she understood that much at least. He gave a quick salute to the president, then spoke.
"Ready to move on your command, sir" the soldier said. His voice sounded robotic behind his full-faced helmet.
"Go ahead," Laguna said. "And good luck to you guys."
"Thank you, sir," the soldier said. He turned to Rinoa and Squall. "The sorceress and the SeeD will ride with Dr. Odine's aides in the transport truck."
("The sorceress and the SeeD?")
"We have names, you know," Rinoa said. She frowned at the soldier.
"Indeed," the soldier said dismissively. "You two are to ensure that the aides are protected, in case a monster breaks through the lines. Also, whatever assistance you can provide to clear a hole at the front of the convoy will help ease the operation."
"Understood," Squall said.
"Got it," Rinoa said.
"Good," the soldier said. "You and the aides, follow me to the transport truck."
As they moved to depart, Laguna leapt forward and grabbed Squall gently by the elbow. Squall, surprised, looked down at Laguna's hand, then up into Laguna's face. Laguna smiled shyly. Squall frowned.
"Hey, um… be careful, all right?" Laguna said. "Remember, the Lunatic Pandora's just a big floating moon rock. You guys are more important. If anything happens… if something goes wrong, just come right back here, okay? Abandon the mission if you have to. You've got my permission."
Squall narrowed his eyes, then shrugged off Laguna's hand. "We have it under control," he said.
Laguna nodded and stepped back. "Right," he said. "Good luck."
Rinoa, Squall, and the aides stepped forward, following after the Esthar soldier. Behind her, Rinoa could hear as Odine turned to Laguna and said, "Just a rock? You stupidest president we ever have! Lunatic Pandora iz highly advanced—"
And by then she was too far away to hear the rest of his ranting.
(I wonder why Laguna looked so concerned…)
She pushed the thought out of her mind and jogged to align herself side-by-side with Squall, then fell into step with him. She held his hand with one of hers, and gripped the inside of his arm with her other. Unlike with Laguna, Squall didn't shy away from her touch. She took a sort of comfort from that feeling, knowing that Squall—despite the fact that he was slowly getting better at accepting others—still allowed her and only her to have any sort of intimate contact with him. She squeezed his arm tighter, almost possessively.
He turned his head and looked at her.
"You nervous?" Squall asked.
"Yeah," she said. "Aren't you?"
Squall turned his eyes forward. Rinoa tried to read his expression, to get an insight into his thoughts before he could give them words. His lips twitched, and his eyes darted back and forth as if he was reading words only he could see.
(He's picking his answers. Choosing the best one…)
Finally, after a few moments, he said, "I don't feel like I have much reason to be nervous. We've got a good chunk of Esthar's army escorting us. And we're only going up against monsters. All of us working together, I don't think we'll run into any major problems."
"I guess…" Rinoa said. She focused forward, still clinging to his arm as they walked. Behind them, almost a dozen aides followed, none of them in any great hurry to keep up with the fast strides of the Esthar soldier. They knew the convoy couldn't leave without them, so they were free to set their own pace. They chatted to each other, talking about various numbers and statistics and readings, all of which sounded like nothing but word soup to Rinoa.
An Esthar soldier noticed the group passing by and broke away from his allies. Nonchalantly, he locked step with Rinoa and Squall, holding his rifle angled towards the ground. Rinoa glanced at the soldier from the side of her eye. His uniform was identical to all the others, but he wore a small pouch strapped to the side of his waist.
"It's me," the soldier whispered. Rinoa was about to ask who "me" was supposed to be, when she recognized the man's voice, even though it was garbled behind the Esthar mask.
(Piet.)
"This is the only way I could come with you guys," Piet said. "Odine would ever let me travel with the rest of his aides. He's still mad about the… eh… nevermind. I'll tell you later."
Rinoa knew enough of Piet and Dr. Odine's past to understand their mutual dislike of each other, but she still thought that posing as a soldier to avoid Odine's wrath seemed excessive. How bad could a conflict between two scientists possibly be?
"Where'd you get the uniform?" Rinoa asked, keeping her voice low so no one around them could hear.
"Not important," Piet said. "Just don't blow my cover, okay? The faster I can get to Lunatic Pandora, the faster I can give you your answers."
Rinoa and Squall nodded, and continued marching on. Soon they got to the front of the line of vehicles and soldiers. There, parked behind a couple of artillery cars, waited a large, hovering supply truck. Instead of having a large cloth canvas covering the back—like the G-Army trucks had—the Esthar truck had a transparent blue dome, making the truck look like a colorful turtle. The Esthar soldier pushed a button on the bumper, and the blue dome vanished with a buzzing sound.
"Everybody on," the soldier said. The aides began climbing onto the smooth gray surface of the truck's bed. Squall stepped up, helping Rinoa up by gently pulling on her hand. She hopped up onto the truck, feeling her boots click on the hard metal surface.
Behind her, Piet wordlessly began to climb up onto the truck. With a hand, the Esthar soldier stopped him and pushed him back down.
"Civilians only," the soldier said. "Return to your unit, soldier."
Before Piet could respond, Squall knelt down and addressed the soldier. "He's with us. President Laguna gave him to us as a private bodyguard for the mission."
The lead soldier looked at Squall, then at Piet. He froze for a minute, apparently thinking it over. Then he dropped his hand.
"Is that so?" he asked. He grabbed Piet's arm and read the number printed on the shoulder pad of his uniform. "G114-S22. I've got your serial number, soldier. I'll look into your story when we get back. You'd better be telling the truth, or there'll be consequences."
"Y-yes, sir," Piet said.
The soldier released Piet, allowing him to climb aboard with the aides and Squall and Rinoa. When they were all aboard, the Esthar soldier pressed the button on the rear bumper again. The protective bubble quickly encased the back of the truck, filtering the outside world in shades of blue, and muffling the sounds of the city and the convoy.
"Thanks," Piet whispered to Squall. "I should have thought of a cover story. I thought the uniform alone would be good enough to fool 'em."
Squall grunted. "Maybe in the Galbadian army. But Esthar seems to keep better track of their personnel."
"True," Piet said.
Just when Rinoa was about to ask if they would have to sit on the floor, two rows of seats on either side, facing inward, rose up from hidden compartments in the truck bed. They were simple bucket seats, with over-the-shoulder safety harnesses attached to each chair. The aides sat down and strapped themselves in. Squall and Rinoa sat at the back, with Piet finding a seat beside them.
"Huh…" Squall said, admiring the truck's features. "The seats retract so they can carry both cargo and personnel with the same vehicle. Interesting."
Rinoa pulled the safety straps over her shoulder, then fastened a silver belt buckle at her waist. Squall leaned over to her and pulled on her straps to make sure they were tight, then smiled and nodded at her. She smiled back.
The handful of soldiers who were milling about outside the truck began to clear away, climbing onto nearby vehicles and into other transport trucks. Rinoa looked ahead, to try to see what was going on down the road, but the silver-colored cabin of the supply truck blocked her view. By leaning far back in her seat and angling her head, she could just barely see that the lead cars were getting in motion, starting their journey towards the Great Plains of Esthar and the Lunatic Pandora.
(We'll be fine…)
(It's just monsters…)
But the monsters that covered the Great Plains—remnants of the recent Lunar Cry—were only half of her worries. Even if the crossing to the Lunatic Pandora went flawlessly, it still meant that she was returning once more to the Lunatic Pandora. That weird, freakish pillar, flying above the fields, with its alien green innards. Where the Sorceress Adel had awoken after nearly two decades of forced slumber. Where the Sorceress Ultimecia took control of Rinoa for the second time in her life. Where time compression began, and the world had almost ended.
Even under the best circumstances, the Lunatic Pandora would always be a place filled with bad memories.
And then there was Piet sitting in the seat next to her, in his ill-fitting uniform, awkwardly holding his military-issue rifle and stinking vaguely of plastic and rubber. He had promised to give her answers, if she could bring him to the Lunatic Pandora so that he could study it up close. But what if they got all the way out there, and he couldn't?
(Or what if he can, and the answers are something terrible?)
(Or what if he can, and he's going to try to use the Fount for himself?)
The memory of Adel's massacre of her tribe was still fresh in Rinoa's mind. Ideally, she would want to find a way to make sure that no one in the world ever possessed such power again. But Piet was a scientist. It was his nature want to study Hyne's Fount, contain it, control it. Perhaps even use it. For that reason, despite Piet's many assurances to the contrary, she would never trust him so long as the power of Hyne's Fount was free and accessible.
(We have to destroy it.)
The truck drifted smoothly forward, not rumbling or shaking as a regular truck would. It felt like being driven along in an elevator, only this one went forwards and backwards, rather than up and down.
The irregular blue buildings of Esthar city passed with growing velocity as the caravan of vehicles gained speed, heading further and further from the center of the city. Rinoa looked to Squall from the side of her eyes. This was their second day in Esthar, and Squall had never once stopped admiring the city. His eyes traced along the oddly shaped buildings, across the blue glass roads, and to the mysterious pillars and glowing structures that had purposes only the people of Esthar could understand. Squall was fascinated by the technology, by the many wonders the scientific minds of Esthar had created.
Rinoa, though, felt like a foreigner.
(This isn't like home.)
In the truck, Odine's aides talked amiably with each other. She wondered if they would want to interrogate her, to learn more about the sorceress, about her powers, about her past. Not that she knew enough about sorceresses to be able to answer most of their questions, but she expected them to ask nonetheless.
Yet they were all occupied talking about the Lunatic Pandora, examining complicated schematics on handheld computers, discussing Odine's theories about the Pandora, back before Laguna had sunk it into the ocean. Wondering what sort of effects years under the sea had had on the machinery. They were a highly focused group of people, and at that time, their focus was on their destination, not the sorceress sitting next to them.
(It's better this way, I guess. I don't wanna talk to them anyway.)
An unseen intercom in the back of the truck came to life, as the driver spoke to his passengers. The aides hushed their chatter and listened.
"The plains are visible now," he said through the speakers. "No monsters yet, but that's not surprising. We expect first contact after we get a few minutes outside the city. Be ready."
The speakers shut off, and the aides resumed muttering their plans. The defense of the convoy was out of the aides' control, so there was nothing for them to do but sit and talk and hope the people around them were up to the task. Rinoa looked for something to occupy her mind, to keep her from worrying.
Reluctantly, she turned to Piet to distract her.
"How come, if you guys have flying cars," Rinoa said, "Why don't we just fly over the monsters?"
There was an odd snuffling sound coming from behind Piet's mask. His body was lightly shaking. After a moment, she realized that he was laughing at her. A flush of blood ran to her face, a mixture of both embarrassment and resentment.
"That's not how they work," Piet said. "It's… too complicated to explain." He waved his hand, ignoring her question.
Rinoa balled up her hands into fists. "My father used to say that if you couldn't explain something, it meant you didn't understand it."
That remark got to Piet. His laughter stopped, and he turned to look at her, his face obscured by his mask. Though she hated quoting her father, she liked the effect her words had on the scientist.
"Fine," he said, bitterly. "First off, they're not 'flying cars.' They don't generate lift by manipulating wind currents like an airplane. They use stored-cell para-magic thrusters to move orthogonally through space. The energy is primarily unidirectional, meaning if they are traveling forward, they cannot travel upwards and vice-versa. The amount of energy required to suspend the vehicle high enough above the ground to avoid the monsters would negate the thrusters' ability to propel the vehicle forward. The thrusters cannot bear the burden of simultaneous forward propulsion and high-level vertical suspension. At least, not if we want to maintain any worthwhile speed. We could, in theory, travel over the monsters, but it'd take a week."
(Now he's just being a bratty little snob.)
"Does that answer your question?" Piet said. Though she couldn't see his face, she could hear the derisive sneer in his voice.
But she understood more of his explanation than she let on. Just because she didn't often use big words, didn't mean she was unaware of their meaning. Still, she decided to let him have his petty, passive-aggressive victory, if only to avoid an argument.
"Yeah, thanks," Rinoa said.
(Jerk.)
Finally the crystal-blue architecture of the city ended abruptly in an endless field of gray-white sand as the truck descended down towards the ground and out of Esthar. The long, thin snake of the convoy kicked up a plume of dust as it traveled on.
The intercom turned on again.
"Monsters on the horizon," the driver said. "Expect contact in the next few minutes. SeeD and sorceress, on your marks."
Now that they were clear of the city and heading towards imminent danger, the aides toned down their chatter. Some looked anxiously at Rinoa and Squall, or at Piet sitting next to them. After a few moments of awkward glances, one of the aides addressed her.
"Will the protective shield around the transport truck interfere with your magic?" the aide asked.
(Um…)
She hadn't considered that. She looked around, at the faintly blue shield that encased them all. She'd never attempted to cast her magic through something before. And she had no clue what the barrier was made of. If it was some sort of magical-technological hybrid device, there was no telling what it might do to her spells.
"I don't know," Rinoa admitted. "I've never tried it."
"Then, perhaps a test is in order?" the aide said. "Just to be sure."
Rinoa nodded. "Right."
"We should have done this before we left," another aide muttered.
As Rinoa reached down inside herself to find her magic, she thought of the last time she had experienced the power of casting a spell. It was back in Adel's past, with Adel's body, as she surged with the energy of Hyne's Fount, laying waste to her friends and her family, destroying her people in one crushing wave of hatred and madness.
The memory came clear to her mind, breaking her concentration, making her lose her grip on her spell.
(That was Adel, not you.)
To clear her mind, she thought back to the last time she herself had personally cast a spell. At first she thought it was over a month ago, in Ultimecia's castle, but she remembered that there had been a couple occasions since then. A few days after time compression, for instance, Squall had taken her out to the Garden training center to keep their combat skills sharp. She'd been by his side, casting magic to help him take down the swarms of grats that infested the training center.
But there was another time, only days before Garden returned to Balamb Island, when it was still drifting along in the ocean, with no direction and no definite future. She had gone out, alone, to the second floor balcony to listen to the waves and smell the salt air. In the sky, a few seagulls chased after Garden, hoping to land on it and take a break from flying across the ocean.
She had watched the gulls as they flew in the wake of Garden, flapping their wings, then gliding, flapping, then gliding. But despite their efforts, the sea breeze was blowing in their faces and they were falling behind. Feeling pity, she reached into herself and redirected the wind. She angled it behind the birds and pushed them, lifting them forward and helping them catch up to Garden.
Once they were close enough, they settled along Garden's architecture, along the windows and the balcony, along the front gate, resting, squawking, and grooming their tired wings.
The simple, peaceful memory brought a smile to her face.
(I'm not Adel. I'm not Ultimecia.)
With that memory in her mind, she easily found her magic. She looked up into the sky, filtered through the bubble of the transport truck, and called up a wind spell, reaching for the air just beyond the barrier. Inside the truck the air was motionless, but outside the dust whirled, caught up in the turbulence of her magic. With an effort of will, she pushed the wind outwards, sending it perpendicular to the truck. It carved a line into the distance, without disturbing the passengers or the rest of the convoy.
She put her arm down and relaxed. The spell faded, the wind died down.
The aides nodded, pleased with the results, then began chattering with each other again. This time, their topics included her, her abilities, and the effects of the barrier and its relation to magic.
(Those guys never really stop, do they?)
"Good to know," Squall said.
"Contact," the driver of the truck said over the intercom. He sounded bored, as if reading from a script he'd read a thousand times before. "SeeD and sorceress, prepare for defense. Everyone else, keep alert."
The intercom shut off, and the aides stopped talking. Piet stiffened in his chair, clutching his rifle. Squall gripped the handle of his gunblade with one hand, and Rinoa's hand with the other. Rinoa's heart trembled when she realized that Squall had reached for her first, rather than waiting for her to make the first move.
She squeezed his hand, and looked outside.
The first wave of monsters, pushed back from the city limits by near-constant Esthar patrolling and attacks, began to draw themselves towards the convoy, emerging from behind hills and around rocks. Big, lumbering monsters with hairy, multi-color arms and beastly heads ran across the earth. Smaller, flying monsters with too many eyes and almost humanlike hands sped ahead of them. Creatures both familiar to Rinoa and creatures entirely new to the planet massed in clusters of dozens, hundreds, painting the gray sand with their many colors, bearing down on the convoy.
(They're just monsters. Nothing new.)
Once more, she reached inside herself and pulled out the magic. She extended her hand forward, aiming for the distant monsters, and she pushed. With her hand, with her heart, with her magic, she called up wind that scattered the monsters' ranks, sending the flying creatures crashing hard to the ground, and causing the big, lumbering ones to trip on their feet and fall.
She kept up a steady current of wind, knocking down monsters by the score, then by the hundreds. But the convoy continued on and the endless array of monsters continued barreling down on them, drawing ever closer. For every dozen she stunned or killed, a hundred rose up and carried on in their place. The recent Lunar Cry had coated the planet with millions and millions of monsters, and every single one landed here in the Esthar Plains.
(It's not enough.)
The convoy, her magic, everything. There just wasn't enough force in the world to repel all these monsters. She realized then why Esthar had not attempted this crossing earlier: it was almost suicide.
The first of the monsters got into range of Esthar's weapons, and the flanking cars opened fire. Rear-mounted artillery blasted pink and blue lasers into the monster horde, cutting the creatures in halves and blowing off limbs. The monsters shrieked inhumanly, tearing at their wounded bodies before collapsing into death, their bodies shriveling into dust.
Other soldiers in transport trucks lowered their protective barriers and aimed their rifles out of their vehicles, firing wildly. Accuracy was not a concern. There were so many monsters flooding the plains that a shot fired in any direction was bound to hit something.
Both the convoy and the assault continued. But now they had reached the heart of the monster swarm, and the convoy was cutting through it like a knife. The monsters approaching from the sides were no longer the biggest concern; now the Esthar guns focused forward, clearing a path through the beasts as they fought their way towards the Lunatic Pandora.
Monsters were shredded to pieces by the Esthar artillery, the brilliant laser beams as silent as the rest of Esthar's technology. Rinoa continued her steady blast of wind, holding the monsters at bay, and she thought distantly of what Piet said earlier. About how monsters carried energy from the moon, and with their deaths, they fed that energy into the planet and into Hyne's Fount.
If Piet was right, if Hyne's Fount existed and worked as he believed, then the power being fed into it by this convoy was unimaginable. She thought of what a sorceress could do with that kind of energy. She thought of what Adel had done with that power before.
She felt her spell waver as her focus drifted.
(No! I'm not like them!)
Flying monsters broke over the tide of monstrosities and attacked the convoy from above, diving and swooping, crashing into nearby vehicles, knocking soldiers off their trucks, where they disappeared, screaming, into the sea of creatures. Rinoa turned her wind on the flying beasts, directing all her energy upwards at them. They were blown away like leaves, falling into the churning mass of their kin, crushed under the relentless press of advancing monsters.
The assault went on, and on, and on. The convoy cut a path through the monsters just wide enough to accommodate itself, allowing the monsters to get close enough for Rinoa to make out the details of their bodies. Close enough for her to see the watery, inhuman gaze in their eyes, their terrible hooked claws, their rows and rows of jagged teeth. The Esthar soldiers fired their weapons, Rinoa pushed with her wind, and the monsters died and broke apart.
And yet, they kept coming.
It was like fighting against the rising tide, armed only with a bucket. The monsters swarmed, and they encased the convoy on all sides with their sheer numbers. Squall unbuckled himself from his chair and got to his feet, casting spells of all kinds and all colors into the horde, spinning around and cutting down anything that got too close. His spells, like Rinoa's, passed easily through the bubble, leaving the people inside the truck unharmed as he blasted fire and lightning and ice into the multitudes. But he was not a sorceress, and even his best spells paled compared to the hurricane that Rinoa was currently summoning.
And then, finally, the pillar that was the Lunatic Pandora emerged through the haze of dust and monsters. It was the single biggest building Rinoa had ever seen, towering over the plains like a monument made by a god. The sigil of Esthar, the white crescent moon and star, was emblazoned proudly on each of the Pandora's four sides. Even though, from a distance, the sigils appeared to be no bigger than Rinoa's thumbnail, she knew that if she were to take one of those symbols down and lay it flat on the ground, she could build a small town on it and comfortably house everyone she had ever known in her life. And yet these massive sigils occupied only a fraction of the total surface area of the colossus called Lunatic Pandora.
(How do we get inside?)
She focused on her wind spell, ensuring that she, Squall, and the others would safely complete the journey to find the answer to her question. She'd been blasting her magic for quite some time now, but still was only a little fatigued. With their goal in sight, she redoubled her efforts, widening and strengthening her spell for the final push.
Squall, however, was flagging. Sweat formed on his brow, and with each spell he cast, he strained his face more and more with the added effort. The thought occurred to Rinoa that only a few weeks earlier, she had been a helpless girl who could barely do anything without Squall's help and support. Now, she was utterly eclipsing him, like the Lunatic Pandora eclipsed all of them.
If she was this powerful without the help of Hyne's Fount…
(No, I won't even think about that.)
She held her focus, held her magic, and fought through the last moments of the battle. Soon, the transport truck arrived at Tears' Point, the site of numerous statues and cube-shaped power cells that Rinoa could only guess the purpose of. Broken cubes of crystal formed concentric rings around the statues. Above them, the bright light emerging from the hole in the Pandora's exposed bottom glowed with the intensity of a green sun.
Once at Tears' Point, the surge of monsters finally began to slow, as the structures all around them formed a choke point, limiting how many monsters could attack at once. Now, finally, the Esthar artillery on its own was sufficient to keep the creatures at bay, allowing Squall and Rinoa a chance to rest. Rinoa dropped her hands and slumped in her chair, tired, but still able to fight if she needed to. Squall, gasping, stumbled over to his seat and collapsed into it, his gunblade held limply in his hand. He hung his head and looked at his feet, sweat dripping down his hair.
Rinoa put a hand on his shoulder.
He shook his head. "I'm fine," he said. "Just a little… winded."
Nevertheless, Rinoa sent a little healing spell into his muscles, easing their tension. Squall sighed with relief as the energy coursed through his body.
"That was quite a show you two put on," one of Dr. Odine's aides said. "Truly, the power of the sorceress—and the power of SeeD—is a force to be reckoned with. I'm not sure the convoy would have survived without you."
The other aides murmured in agreement. Rinoa looked around at them. Some seemed impressed, a few were curious, and more than one eyed her with suspicion and fear.
(Some people are afraid of sorceresses…)
(Can't say I blame them.)
The transport truck paused directly beneath the Lunatic Pandora, the sounds of Esthar artillery still firing through the air, repelling the monsters. There was a buzzing sound as the thrusters shifted from propelling the cars forward, to propelling the cars upward. Smoothly, the vehicle shot straight up in the air, heading towards the big green sun in the bottom of Lunatic Pandora.
The light grew in intensity, until all the passengers aboard the truck had to shut their eyes to keep from being blinded. After a few seconds, the truck jerked as the driver shifted the thrusters again, sending the truck forward into the Lunatic Pandora. Rinoa kept her eyes shut against the light, so she could not see what happened next, but she could feel the truck shift as it changed direction once, twice, and then once more. Finally it came to a stop. The intercom came on and the driver said, in his usual bored tone, "We're here."
Rinoa opened her eyes finding herself and the others to be in a cavernous gray room. Large engines hung from the ceiling, emitting a low, steady hum as they worked to keep the Pandora afloat. The rest of the convoy had arrived; dozens and dozens of vehicles parked in neat rows along the solid gray floor.
Soldiers scrambled, regrouping into formations as their commanders shouted orders, counting their units and checking to ensure that all their troops had made the crossing. A few vehicles had been lost, some soldiers killed in action, but overall the mission seemed to have been a great success.
(That's good.)
A uniformed soldier approached the supply truck and pushed the button on its bumper, eliminating the blue protective bubble. The aides unbuckled themselves, stood up, and stretched. Piet rested his hand on Rinoa's shoulder keeping her from standing up.
"Hold on," Piet said softly. "We have to try to get away from the group."
Rinoa stayed in her seat.
"If you'll all follow me," the soldier outside the truck said.
The soldier took a step to the side as the aides filed down the length of the truck and hopped off the back. Piet slowly got to his feet, allowing the aides to shuffle around him. Squall and Rinoa waited as well. When all the aides were off, Piet jumped down, followed by Squall and Rinoa. With a curt nod to the group, the soldier walked them through the rows of parked cars, past the soldiers, and towards a large gray staircase that led up into a glass tunnel.
Piet followed slowly, his head turning side to side, trying to find a place where the three could inconspicuously break away, but there were too many soldiers around, and the tunnel ahead appeared to be the only access deeper inside. Rinoa felt constantly watched from all sides.
At the mouth of the tunnel a platoon of Esthar soldier waited, standing in perfect formation, hands clutching their rifles. The soldier stepped off to the side and gestured at the platoon.
"These men will escort you to the control room," he said.
He nodded his farewell to the aides, then hurried back down the stairs to rejoin the other soldiers. The platoon leader—his uniform distinguished from the others with yellow joint patches—shouted out a command to his troops, and they divided cleanly in half, one half standing in front of the aides, the other half guarding behind. Piet looked around, saw that they were completely sandwiched between the guards, then muttered a curse under his breath.
(Looks like we won't be able to just sneak away quietly.)
The good news was that no one was making a fuss about Piet. The soldiers seemed content to let him follow Rinoa and Squall around without comment. Rinoa didn't know Esthar military procedure, but even she could tell that he was carrying himself all wrong, holding his rifle improperly, and acting out of place. If she were a soldier, she'd probably be asking Piet a few questions about who he was and what he was doing, but nothing of the sort happened.
Instead the soldiers, with the aides pressed between their ranks, marched down the glass tunnel. The Esthar soldiers' boots hit the floor in perfect unison, creating a steady drumbeat that echoed in the tunnel. Rinoa glanced at Squall and smiled to herself when she noticed that he was unconsciously keeping in step with the rest of the soldiers.
(I guess it's a habit for him.)
Piet, noticeably, was not. Rinoa took a vindictive sense of pride knowing that the scientist was not as clever or as observant as he believed himself to be. He couldn't even blend in with the troops and match their movements.
The tunnel led deeper inside. Through the glass that surrounded them, Rinoa could see an endless tangle of gray and black wires, ventilation pipes big enough for her to crawl through, and rectangular metal boxes containing what she assumed were machines.
The glass tunnel formed a bridge between the machines the Esthar scientists had built to house and transport the Lunatic Pandora, and the alien green rock that formed the enormous Crystal Pillar—the true wonder of the Lunatic Pandora, and the source of its energy and mystery.
The group reached the end of the tunnel, stepping off into the green crystal. The hard surface was smooth and slippery, carved with deep scratches and dents. The walls, ceiling, and floor pulsed with green light, slowly growing brighter, then dimmer, then brighter again, as if the Crystal Pillar was breathing.
The platoon of soldiers guided the civilians through rock crevasses, and through glass bridges that spanned deep chasms. Throughout the journey, weak monsters threw themselves at the pack. They were small, shriveled things with frail bodies. A quick chatter from a soldier's gun could easily bring them all down. Even the larger, more intimidating ones succumbed easily to a few bullets, as if all the monsters were already on the edge of death and needed only a slight push to send them the rest of the way.
(So that much hasn't changed since the last time we were here.)
At last, the group reached a small elevator, with the number "10" printed on the front. The transparent shaft extended straight up, disappearing into the high green ceiling. The front half of the platoon stopped and stepped aside.
"This elevator goes directly to the control room," the platoon leader said. He gestured at the elevator with his rifle. "I'll send a few of my men up with you to ensure that it's safe. Will there be anything else?"
"No, I believe we have it under control," one of the aides said. He nodded. "Thank you, commander."
The soldier nodded. With quick hand motions, he singled out some troops and ordered them to follow the aides into the elevator. With the four soldiers, dozen or so aides, plus Squall, Rinoa, and Piet all trying to get into the elevator at once, they created a rather ridiculous scene, having to jam themselves in tightly in order to fit. One of the aides suggested going in two trips, but that idea was shot down when another aide said that it was best if they all stayed together.
A soldier's elbow was jammed painfully into Rinoa's back, and her face was pressed into another's shoulder. Rinoa wriggled to try to free up some breathing space for herself, but there was none to be had. One of the aides reached through the tangle of bodies and pushed a button inside the elevator. The elevator rose smoothly upwards.
The glass walls of the elevator allowed Rinoa to look out, between the bodies around her, to the mix of Esthar technology and alien rock that surrounded her. Aside from the glass tunnels that bridged gaps and connected distance parts of the Crystal Pillar, she really didn't understand much of what she could see. Everything before her was either glowing rocks from the moon, or else futuristic glowing machinery from the silent nation of Esthar.
(It's like being on another planet.)
The elevator stopped at the top floor, on one side of a circular control room. The doors opened, and the Esthar soldiers stepped out first, quickly, with their rifles drawn. They scanned the room, top to bottom, and concluded that it was safe, only to discover that all the aides had stepped out on their own, to escape the crushing atmosphere of the elevator.
"Oh… no," one of the aides moaned, looking around the room. He raised his hands to the air and dropped them back to his sides, as he approached the long, gray control panel that encircled most of the room. As Rinoa got closer, she was able to see that the panels bore deep slashes and scorch marks. Some of the wiring inside the computers still spat out sparks. All the machines were all off, all the monitors were black—the ones that weren't smashed beyond recognition.
"Was it monsters?" an aide asked.
"No, this was deliberate," another said. "Someone didn't want anyone to pilot the Pandora away from this spot, so they sabotaged the controls."
"Seifer," Squall muttered. He crossed his arms and glanced to the side.
"So now what?" Rinoa asked. To her surprise, one of the aides turned and answered her question. She'd gotten accustomed to the aides not really paying attention to her.
"We need to get the Pandora back to Esthar in order to properly study it," the aide said. "So we'll need to repair the damage and get the controls working again. We have all the tools we need, but still, it could take days for us to finish. The damage is extensive."
Rinoa's heart dropped straight down into her boots. Just the thought of being enclosed in this freakish green pillar for days on end, trapped with the weird little monsters and the soldiers in their strange uniforms was enough to send Rinoa into the beginnings of a panic attack.
"D… days?" Rinoa said. She gulped.
"Well, yes," the aide said. "Not to worry, we anticipated that there might be problems with the controls. Several of the supply trucks in the convoy are carrying food and shelter. Enough for all of us. We will not want for anything during our stay here, I assure you."
(We can't stay here!)
Squall voiced her objection before she was able to.
"I'm sorry, but a long-term stay is impossible for the two of us," he said. "What about the Ragnarok? Can we use that to get back to Esthar?"
"The Ragnarok?" the aide said. His face suddenly lit up in recognition. "Well, yes, I suppose that could be helpful. If you really need to leave so urgently, we can arrange for the Ragnarok to transport you back to Esthar."
Apparently sensing his first chance to break away from the group, Piet stepped forward. "I will take them," he said. "Escort them, I mean."
The aide scoffed. "Have you got a pilot's license?"
Piet mumbled something in his mask, but didn't answer the question.
(Selphie never had a pilot's license.)
Rinoa smiled with the memory.
"I didn't think so," the aide said. "Wait here and we'll arrange for a properly trained soldier to escort you to the Ragnarok, then take you back to Esthar."
Piet fidgeted with his gun, trying to think of an excuse to break away from the others.
Squall had the answer. "No need to bring a pilot all the way down here," he said calmly. "Our guard can escort us to the Ragnarok. Just make sure a pilot is sent directly there. It'll save time for everyone."
The aide nodded, "Indeed." He turned to the other Esthar soldiers. "Go and find someone with a pilot's license and send them to the Ragnarok, to escort the sorceress and the SeeD back to Esthar."
(They still don't use our names…)
"Sir," one of the soldiers said, presumably the soldier with the highest rank.
The aide looked at Rinoa and Squall sternly.
"We are here to conduct delicate research. I ask that you proceed directly to the Ragnarok, and do not disturb anything on the way. Understood?"
Rinoa and Squall nodded.
The aide looked at Piet. "Make sure they don't get lost, or take any side trips."
Piet nodded and did a passable salute. "Sir," he said.
(Seems like his soldier's outfit was a good idea after all.)
Squall, Rinoa, Piet, and the soldiers filed into the elevator. Without the aides, the elevator was much roomier, and didn't make Rinoa feel like she was being crushed to death.
The elevator arrived back down at the bottom, and the soldiers reunited with their platoon. One of the soldiers communicated the aide's request for a pilot to the platoon leader, and the platoon turned and marched back the way they'd come, towards the staging area for the Esthar convoy. None of them seemed to notice the Rinoa or the others standing there.
For the first time, Piet, Squall, and Rinoa were left totally alone in the Lunatic Pandora.
"Success!" Piet said, excitedly. "You are a smooth operator, Squall."
"Let's move quickly," Squall said. "If we don't show up at the Ragnarok soon, they'll come looking for us."
"Right," Piet said. He looked around. Three tunnels extended from this section of the Crystal Pillar, including the one leading back to the convoy. It wasn't clear where any of them went, and none of them were marked with any directions or anything to distinguish them. He randomly picked a direction and started jogging down it. "Uhhh… Let's go this way."
Rinoa and Squall chased after him.
(Does he know where he's going?)
She doubted it. But it didn't really matter anyway. As far as Rinoa was aware, Piet didn't need to find any specific location; he just needed a secluded spot to do his research undisturbed. And with the sheer size of the Crystal Pillar, it surely had hundreds of good spots to stay hidden.
As they ran, Squall drew his gunblade and hacked at any monsters that tried to approach from the sides or from behind, leaving Rinoa nothing to do but keep up and watch, as the trio went down random green hallways and metal walkways, across bridges, and down more tunnels, heading deeper into the Lunatic Pandora, until she was sure that not only were they unlikely to be disturbed, they were unlikely to ever find their way back out.
Finally they came to a dead end, the path ending abruptly in a massive green wall of stone.
"This will suffice," Piet said. He approached the wall, then dropped to one knee. He reached into the pouch at his waist and began pulling out an array of small devices, none of which Rinoa could recognize. Some he placed against the green stone, and others he set aside for later use. Squall checked around, then strapped his gunblade to his waist. Rinoa rubbed one arm with her hand, idly.
"So… what are you testing for?" Rinoa asked Piet.
"I'm not sure yet," Piet said, adjusting one of his tools. "I'm kind of testing for everything right now. I have a few theories, and I'm working on eliminating possibilities. I need to… huh. That's odd."
Squall stepped forward. "What is it?" he asked.
Piet didn't answer. Instead he picked up another of his tools and examined it. Then another and another. He tapped one device that looked like a glowing screwdriver against the stone, then looked at it again.
"That's… unusual," Piet said.
"Something wrong?" Rinoa asked.
"All of my gauges are giving bad readings," he said. "According to this one, we should all be experiencing five hundred times normal gravity." He picked up another one. "This one says that there's no oxygen in the room. This one can't decide if it's boiling or freezing, and this one thinks it's twenty years in the future. They're all wrong. Really, really wrong."
He held his gauges in his hands, looking at them helplessly.
"Are they calibrated?" Squall asked. He shrugged.
Piet turned on him. Even with his mask, Rinoa could sense his contemptuous glare. "Yes, they're calibrated. I did that before we left. Something is making them go haywire, and I think it's the Crystal Pillar. Whatever has changed here in the past few days is having an effect on my tools. This… might be more trouble than I originally thought."
Rinoa sighed in frustration.
(I should have known he couldn't help us.)
"So what can you do?" Rinoa asked.
"I can fix them…" Piet said, adjusting a dial on his screwdriver tool. "I hope. If it's any consolation, the recent odd behavior of the Crystal Pillar supports my theory, so it's not all bad news."
Squall crossed his arms. "What's your theory?"
Piet resumed adjusting his instruments. "It's just a hypothesis actually. A crazy one, maybe. I don't want to say anything about it until I'm sure."
"I still wanna hear anyway," Rinoa said. "I came here for answers. I wanna know what you know."
Piet sighed. He reached to his neck and unsnapped a clip on his uniform. With one hand, he peeled his helmet off his head, revealing his tangled, sweat-matted hair and sticky skin. He took a breath, clearly enjoying the fresh air. He tossed the helmet to the side. He talked to Squall and Rinoa while setting up his instruments, calibrating them, and checking the results of their measurements.
"As you know, I was stationed on the Lunar Base, studying the moon," Piet said. "Of particular interest to me was the origin of monsters. We already know that the monsters on the planet come from the moon, falling during a Lunar Cry. But where do the monsters on the moon come from?"
One of Piet's gauges beeped. He pushed a button on it, read the readout, and resumed talking and fidgeting with his devices.
"We always assumed they reproduced normally," Piet said. "Like plants and animals. The prevailing theory was that our atmosphere or our higher gravity somehow restricted monster reproduction, only allowing them to birth new monsters on the moon. Part of my job was to confirm or deny this theory.
"But we saw no evidence of reproduction at all. For years, we were up there, tracking the monsters, studying their movements, their origins. They never reproduced, sexually or asexually, yet there always seemed to be more and more each day. It was a complete mystery."
Piet glanced up from his instruments. "It was if they… just appeared out of nowhere. From nothing."
He turned back to his work and resumed his story.
"One of my aides, who had previously worked with Odine during the Lunatic Pandora project, was the first to suggest the idea that maybe monsters were just appearing out of nowhere. Of course, we laughed at the absurdity of the idea, until he compared evidence gathered from the Lunatic Pandora with our evidence gathered from the moon.
"Turns out, new monsters were always appearing inside the Lunatic Pandora, even after soldiers had combed through every inch, again and again. Odine, of course, was not interested in studying monsters, so he ignored this little detail. The Sorceress Adel had commissioned the project, and she only wanted to know how to use the Crystal Pillar as a weapon. So Odine dismissed all the unusual monster activity and focused on using the Lunatic Pandora to deliberately instigate a Lunar Cry.
"Obviously, no reasonable scientist believes that energy or matter can come from nothing, so we set to work brainstorming ideas as to where the monsters were coming from. And combining evidence obtained from the Lunatic Pandora with evidence from the moon pointed to one clear solution."
Piet paused and fidgeted with his work. Squall sighed loudly.
"Skip the dramatic pauses," Squall said. "Just finish the story."
"Fine," Piet said, grumpily. He turned to Rinoa. "Our current theory is that the moon—and individual parts of the moon, like the Crystal Pillar—are able to physically connect two distant points in space. Possibly even two points in time itself. This would explain the Lunar Cry. If the Crystal Pillar can forge some kind of a link between the moon and the planet, it makes sense that monsters could travel along this link, like a bridge. Also, it explains monster origins. The moon is not creating monsters, nor is it serving to incubate them. It's just pulling in monsters from somewhere else. Another place, or maybe another time period altogether."
"Like where?" Rinoa asked. "Or when?"
Piet shrugged, and turned back to his instruments. "We may never know the answer to that. I don't think that's the most interesting part of this theory anyway."
Squall rubbed his chin. "If the Crystal Pillar can pull monsters from other places, or other times," he said. "Then why are all the monsters in here so unusually weak?"
Piet raised a finger and pointed at Squall. "Exactly. That was something we couldn't figure out, until we started combining our research with our theories about Hyne's Fount. Remember how I said that monsters contain energy? When they die, their energy is absorbed by the planet, forming the power source known as Hyne's Fount.
"I believe that it's incorrect to think of monsters as whole and independent units, like animals, plants, and humans. It's better to imagine them more as somewhat sentient energy forms. The Pandora—or the moon—they draw energy from some other source, and that energy collects together into a mass and forms monsters. The strength of the monsters depends on the amount of energy collected. The Crystal Pillar, being only a tiny fragment fallen from the moon, is only able to draw out a little energy. Thus we have little, weak monsters running around. You see?"
Rinoa tried to think through the ramifications of what Piet was saying. Squall's tightened expression showed that he too, was thinking it over carefully. It was just a massive amount of information and possibilities to take in all at once.
(It makes sense. This could be right.)
"If, let's say…" Squall said. "… Let's say that right now the Crystal Pillar is drawing monsters—or energy, anyway—from another time, rather than another place. That would explain why the sorceresses from time compression are coming to our time. They stumble upon the link made by the Crystal Pillar, and travel along it to the present. It's a lot like the Lunar Cry, only instead of linking the planet and the moon, it's linking two points in time, and the sorceresses are traveling along the link and coming here."
Piet clapped once. "You know, you've got more sense than ninety percent of the idiots who call themselves 'scientists' in this damned city." Piet looked at Rinoa. "You got yourself a good one here."
Rinoa smiled and clutched Squall's arm. "I know."
Squall shrugged to himself, ignoring the praise. "But it's not a perfect answer. If that's true, then why don't the sorceresses come directly to the Crystal Pillar? Why do they go to draw points instead? And if the theory is true, then why hasn't this sort of thing happened before? What caused the Pandora to start acting up now of all times?"
"All good questions," Piet said, returning to his instruments. "And I intend to get you some answers. Soon as I can calibrate these stupid instruments…"
Squall held a hand over his mouth, pensively rubbing his jaw. Rinoa allowed herself to drift off in thought as well. The Lunar Cry, the moon, and monsters were all subjects she'd studied in school, but they were never taught as extensively as subjects like history or math. At most, monsters and the Lunar Cry could expect to have a single chapter devoted to them in a science textbook, and little more. She wished she knew more concrete data, so she could ask better questions and help fact-check Piet's theories. But, unfortunately, she didn't. Only Esthar and SeeD seemed interested in the intricacies of magic, sorceresses, and the like.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of marching feet coming from the tunnel behind them. Squall whipped around and looked for a place to hide, but there was nowhere. The tunnel had no cracks or crevices to escape into, and the only way out was back into the tunnel. Piet scrambled to pick up his instruments and stuff them back into his pouch. He snapped the pouch shut, picked up his rifle, snatched up his helmet and shoved it on, then stood next to Rinoa.
"Stay calm," Piet said. "I'll get your answers. Trust me."
(What does he mean?)
Just then, a half dozen Esthar soldiers rounded the corner and stumbled upon the group.
"Hey! This is a restricted area!" one of the soldiers yelled. "You two! You were supposed to report to the Ragnarok!"
"They ran off, sir!" Piet said. "I-I just cornered them in here."
Rinoa gaped at Piet, then frowned. He showed no reaction to her, but then, his mask still obscured his face.
The nearest soldier motioned with his rifle. "Come along, you two. We're heading to the Ragnarok. No more wasting our time."
Rinoa sighed as she and Squall followed after the soldiers, leaving Piet behind in the dead-end tunnel. Rinoa looked over her shoulder at Piet. He nodded and gave her a thumbs up. She stuck her tongue out at him.
(He'd better come up with some really good answers…)
For a few minutes, Rinoa entertained the idea of knocking out the soldiers and going back to talk with Piet some more. Or at the very least, stick around so that she could keep an eye on him. She was beginning to wonder if his whole routine about his haywire instruments was an act, or if something really was wrong with his tools.
She ground her teeth and fidgeted as they walked along the tunnels, heading steadily upwards. There really weren't any opportunities for her to do anything at the moment. If Piet was really determined to hide something, then he could pretend his instruments were broken indefinitely. How would she or Squall ever know the difference? Eventually, Squall and Rinoa would have to head home, even if they fought off the whole Esthar army in order to stay where they were for as long as possible. This parting, it seemed, was unavoidable. There was no choice but to trust Piet and his intentions.
(I still think he's a jerk, though.)
The soldiers led Squall and Rinoa through the maze of the Crystal Pillar, until they got to a hallway that looked vaguely familiar. After a few more twists and turns and junctions, Rinoa recognized it as the same hallway she'd traveled when she and the SeeDs came to Lunatic Pandora almost a month previously.
(And if you go down this hallway all the way and turn, you'll end up at the place where we fought Seifer…)
Seifer.
Even though she hadn't seen him in a month, the effects of his betrayal were still being felt. The slashed-up control panel at the top of the Pandora was his doing, Rinoa had no doubt. Many of the problems with Ultimecia had been partly his fault as well. She wondered how much would have changed, what would have gone differently if Seifer hadn't turned his back on SeeD and joined with Ultimecia. Would the world be different now?
Or had Seifer been nothing more than an expendable pawn in Ultimecia's plans? If Seifer had stayed loyal to SeeD, would she have just found another ambitious, arrogant young man to be her knight in Seifer's place?
(No sense in worrying about that. It's over and done with.)
The soldiers brought them to a large room inside the outer edge of the Lunatic Pandora. There—lodged in a massive hole of its own creation and lording over a pile of rubble, like a dragon coveting its heaps of gold—was the red, scowling face of the Ragnarok spaceship.
The ship was dangerous and intimidating, but far more familiar to Rinoa than the Lunatic Pandora. Rinoa was happy to be guided up the ramp and into the opening in the chest of the ship. Instantly, she felt at ease, the alien discomfort of the Crystal Pillar all but forgotten. She recognized the hallways, remembering where she and Squall had cleared the monsters out, the room where Laguna and the others had met for their final briefing. The Ragnarok, unlike the Lunatic Pandora, was a place of good memories for her.
The rush of memories made her homesick. She was tired of Esthar's confusing technology, its obsession with elevators, lifts, and tunnels. She was tired of being an outsider, a foreigner. Although she and Squall didn't have perfect answers to their questions, they still had a far greater knowledge of what was going on the in the world than they had previously. She was eager to return to Garden, to check on Timber, and share with the others all she'd learned in the past few days. For once, she hoped that Squall would choose to be silent, and let her do all the explaining.
The thought of the other's expressions when she told all she'd learned brought a smile to her face. Especially Zell. He always had a tendency to make her feel like she was an amazing storyteller, because he was so vivid and animated with his reactions to every detail of a story. Every revelation was like a world-changing event for him.
(Yeah, I think I'm ready go home…)
Squall and Rinoa were brought to the passenger bay on the side of the ship, where a dozen or so seats were arranged in rows in front of a wide glass window. Squall and Rinoa sat down and buckled their seats. The soldiers exited the passenger bay, leaving the couple alone in the room.
(We always got to ride in the bridge before…)
(Oh well, it's not like it's our ship anyway.)
A few minutes later, the Ragnarok rumbled as whoever was piloting it reversed it out of the hole. The arms of the ship pushed against the Lunatic Pandora, the fingers clutching at the ground as the ship battled to free itself. With a metallic shriek, the Ragnarok finally broke out of the hole. The arms shoved off from the Pandora, pushing the ship out into the air.
With a roar, the thrusters engaged, sending the ship flying backwards, revealing the massive bulk of the Lunatic Pandora before them. More thrusters engaged, keeping the ship steady as it turned away from the Pandora and pointed towards Esthar. The pilot floored the accelerator, sending the ship rocketing forward, and slamming Rinoa and Squall hard into the backs of their chairs.
"Good thing we were sitting down," Rinoa said.
"Yeah," Squall said. When his body adjusted to the speed, he turned to face her. "Well, Piet's definitely given us a lot to think about. Like he said, his ideas are still theories, but they're good theories. I can't think of any reason why they'd be wrong."
"Yeah," Rinoa said.
Squall looked into her eyes.
"Was it worth the trip?" he asked.
Rinoa smiled. "Oh, definitely! I… feel like I understand the world better. The world, the sorceresses… myself. I'm really glad I came. Thanks. Thank you, Squall."
Squall waved off her thanks. "It was nothing. I was curious too. Anyway, it's probably time we headed back to Garden. It might be a while before Piet figures things out, and I don't think there's anything else we need to ask anybody. Agree?"
"Yeah, I think we should get back home," Rinoa said. She looked forward out of the windshield. On the horizon, the glittering city of Esthar was fast approaching.
Her thoughts returned to Timber, to Garden. With any luck, nothing had happened during their absence. Her worst fear was that something would go wrong when she was away, when she wasn't able to do anything about it.
(I shouldn't worry about that.)
She turned to Squall. "Hey, Squall. Remember the last time it was just you and me aboard the Ragnarok?"
Squall nodded. "Yeah. But it's not just you and me this time. There's a pilot on the bridge. And probably more soldiers around somewhere."
"But they're not here," Rinoa said, with a mischievous grin. "They won't say anything."
Rinoa unbuckled her seatbelt and hopped over to Squall, jumping into his lap and lacing her fingers around the back of his neck. She leaned her head down into his chest and squeezed with both arms. She breathed in, taking in the scent of his leather jacket, the feel of his tight muscles on her body.
"I think you really should go back to your seat," Squall said, "Our pilot's a bit reckless."
"We might not get another chance for a while," Rinoa said. "Just hold on to me, and we'll be fine."
Squall stared at her, the beginnings of a protest forming in his mind. Then he shrugged and smiled, the faintest curve on the edge of his lips. He put one hand on her waist and one on her shoulder and held her tightly.