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-Part 3- “Garden!?” Selphie exclaimed. “No way! We’ve gotta go save Irvine first!” The Ragnorak shot over the location of the siege and banked around, decelerating for the next pass, Selphie oblivious to all but the ship’s intricate control systems. Squall attempted again to intervene, but Selphie remained focused on the controls. At the portside console Quistis activated the ship’s main weapons. “Selphie!” Squall said forcefully, almost hollering. “I’m ordering you, return to Balamb Garden immediately!” “One more pass!” She pleaded hastily, unable to divert her attention from the controls for any amount of time. Squall groaned, shaking his head. “I should discipline you for that.” He muttered. The Ragnorak came over the clearing at the center of town, and at the relatively low velocity, Squall was able to pick out Irvine in the fray, besieged on the roof of the G-Army command vehicle. He would fire several shots into the mob surrounding him, and then attempt to fend off the troopers that invariably began to swarm up to the roof with him. He won’t hold out much longer, Squall observed. This time, the Ragnorak, did a tight circle turn right at the edge of Timber Square, almost in a stationary hover. Selphie pressed a small green button. “This should drop the ladder, I’m sure Irvine’ll know what to do from there.” She explained. “Oh, but you might want to head to the Air Room in case the winch is manual or he’s injured.” Quistis finished configuring the weapons, then rose slowly and walked to the lift where she and Rinoa awaited Squall, who was frowning with mild indignation. Selphie felt his steely gaze on her. “What?” she asked. Squall continued to stare, his lips moving slowly. “You had a ladder,” he pronounced in a low, droning, perturbed tone. “but I had to hold on to a whip.” He held up his black gloves in such a way that it was clear that the palms had been cut severely.. “You ruined my favorite gloves.” He accused. “Hey chill! I can’t even tell you whether or not the winch is manual!” Selphie retorted, “I’m sure the commander of SeeD can get another pair of gloves. Sheesh, besides which, since when did you become such a vanity queen?” Squall’s eyes narrowed at her momentarily, and then he whipped around quickly and descended the lift. * * Irvine tossed back his sweat soaked hair, his hat falling from his head. The Exeter blazed away into the small army surrounding him, his boot fell upon the hand of a G-Soldier who had been trying to grope his way to his elevated position. One final shot took a trooper in the stomach, throwing him back into his comrades, and the rifle clicked empty. He ejected the clip of Fast Ammunition and with his right hand began to fumble through his coat for the last of his ammunition. Holding up his left hand, he cast Firaga, which kept the marauders at bay. At last he produced another cartridge, marked Demolition Ammo and loaded it quickly into the Exeter. He shouldered his weapon and clicked he safety. As he did, he abruptly became aware of a tipping, almost falling sensation. He looked to the crowd at the base of the command vehicle, and the source of the sensation was made obvious. They’re overturning the truck, he realized. The Galbadians heaved, and Irvine scuttled up to the top of the vehicle, which was now nearly the corner. Again they pushed, and the doomed vehicle was forced over its center of gravity ever so slightly, and it tipped slowly, accelerating as it did. Now or never, Irvine realized. Clutching Exeter close to his chest, he crouched over like a sprinter. He took a deep breath, one…two…THREE!, the truck began to creak and shudder, and, closing his eyes, he launched himself into the air. He hit the cobbled ground and rolled, winded but unhurt. Not far behind him the truck smashed noisily against the pavement, heaving broken glass and dust into the night sky. As he recovered his breath, it occurred to him that the enemy soldiers were now opposite the truck, and could not see him. The Ragnorak came around again, this time very slowly, and a ladder trailing behind it, fluttering in the wind. This is my chance, he told himself, and, Exeter at his hip, he fired the canister of Demolition Ammo into the truck, producing the desired effect. The vehicle exploded in flames, then began to burn slowly out. On the other side of the charred, smoldering hulk, Irvine could hear the unfortunate Galbadian soldiers’ clamoring as they attempted to vacate the proximity of the burning truck. A moment later, he heard a whining and felt his hair long being blown in his face. Looking up, he saw the Ragnorak directly overhead. Several feet to his right, a rope ladder swung back and forth, slowing eventually to a near total halt. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and cautiously began to ascend. While he climbed, the Ragnorak began a slow vertical climb, carrying the end of the ladder several meters above the ground. He braced himself, then continued his climb, now moving very ponderously, gripping every step tightly for several seconds before mounting the next. He stole a glance downward, and noticed that a number of Galbadians were not battling the dangerously large fire, but carrying from a bunker what appeared to be a small six-barreled cannon. Like those third generation AA guns we studied, he realized. The soldiers placed it on a waiting tripod, and started to connect the two at various points. Irvine doubled his pace, climbing rapidly, so quickly in fact that he almost lost his grip and fell on several occasions. Finally he reached the top and tumbled over the edge of the hatch, falling on his back into the Air Room. He raised his head, then drew himelf to his feet, and was greeted silently by Quistis, Squall, and Rinoa. Quistis punched the intercom, “Selphie, I’m retracting the ladder now. As soon as it’s up, take us out of here.” As she finished, her hand went to the winch controls, but Irvine caught her. “No time.” he warned, and pressed the Detach button. With a small pop and a puff of white gas, it broke free, and was pulled by the ladder’s weight up and out of the hatch.. “What are you do-” Quistis demanded, Irvine cutting her short. “Selphie!” Irvine yelled through the intercom. “Go! Go now!” “What?!” Selphie’s voice buzzed through in response. Irvine groaned audibly. “Damn, just go!” he hollered in frustration. “Anti-Aircraft fire is comin’ our way!” “Got it.” She replied. An instant later, there was a low droning noise as power was transferred to the main thrusters. Squall frowned. “Don’t you think we should seal the hatch before-” His voice was drowned out as the thrusters roared to life. For a moment, the aircraft shuddered, but remained stationary. Then, it accelerated at a frenetic rate. All four felt a falling sensation as they were thrown to the back of the Air Room. “Shit!” Irvine cursed as he struggled to reach the control panel several feet in front of him. Grimacing, he stretched further and pounded a switch. The hatch whooshed shut, and he collapsed to his knees, panting heavily, his hair hanging all around his face. Cautiously, Squall stepped forward, as if he would be once again pulled to the wall. When it became clear that he would not, he took several, more determined steps over to Irvine and helped him up. “Thanks for coming back to get me man,” Irvine spoke softly, with relief, and then added, “but bail out on me like that again, kay?” Squall nodded, but his expression did not match. “I ordered you to withdraw.” He said coldly. Irvine gave him a look of indignation and started to the door, where he turned to Rinoa and Quistis and gave a slight incline of his head. As he did, his hand went instinctively to his head, causing him to frown. “Where’s my hat?” he asked. “I think I saw it go out the hatch when we accelerated.” Quistis informed him, and offering her condolences, “Don’t worry, you can always get another one.” Remorsefully, Irvine turned and trudged out the door. Squall shrugged as he, Quistis, and Rinoa returned to the cockpit in his wake. Meanwhile, the Ragnorak blew over the final shreds of the coast and sped into open water. Several moments later, the aircraft climbed sharply and faded into the clouds, its passengers blissfully unaware of their observers. Click. * * Rufus poured over the assortment of data discs and reports that allegedly recounted the incidents in Timber thus far; but more and more appeared merely a collection of blurred video images and the exasperatingly technical logs of a lifeless automaton. Bleary eyed, he scanned over the last report, only to find it offered nothing but more meaningless techno babble. Howling in frustration, he cast the printouts aside and pounded his fist on the heavy wooden desk. “Pray tell, Lavinius! What am I to do with all this?!” He demanded of his adjutant, waving furiously at the jumble that covered his desk. “What would the people, the ignorant masses, make of this jargon? Nothing! We may as well distribute our propaganda in binary!” “Yes sir, very good sir.” Lavinius said uneasily, reaching into a pocket. “Errr, on that topic, we’ve just received some more footage, and I think perhaps-” “No, you didn’t think.” Rufus whispered intensely. “You merely scooped up all the raw data you could find, like a mindless drone.” “But sir, this one is different…” He replied cautiously. “I think, errr, the footage contained here could be of great value if the media, the media sir, was compliant. I guarantee!” He proclaimed, his confidence restored. “Let me see that.” Rufus replied, his tone one of both curiosity and skepticism. Rushing to comply, Lavinius fumbled through his pocket and yanked the disc out, thrusting it out to Rufus, who took it slowly and inserted it into his computer. The video began. Several minutes later, the view screen clicked off and the disc ejected. Rufus smiled darkly. “Very good, Lavinius. Very good. With some…editing, perfect.” * * Squall sat uncomfortably in the cockpit, rigid and perfectly upright as the Ragnorak descended over Balamb Island. There was a minute falling sensation, but he ignored it, his expressionless face locked in silent contemplation. The wispy clouds of the night sky parted at last, and he gazed downward at the Balamb’s twinkling firefly lights far below. They were oddly beautiful, he realized, his subconscious recalling the day’s earlier events. Yet it had finally occurred to him that the present could not alter the past. Try as he might, he felt no shame for the brief solace he found in these earthbound stars. The true passage of time was imperceptible to him, but it seemed only a brief moment later the Ragnorak was touching down outside Balamb. Beneath the Ragnorak, grass was plastered against the ground as it’s immense engines set the craft down gently. It touched down and bounced slightly, hydraulics mostly compensating for the impact. The droning whir of the engines became ever more quiet until they finally shut off. Momentary calm returned, Squall thought his hearing picked up the faint chirp of crickets, and he strained his hearing, listening intently. Squall, came a seemingly distant voice. Squall! “Squall!” Selphie shouted, waving a hand in his face. “C’mon, we need to go back to Garden!” “Xu has requested that we report to her at once.” Quistis added. Squall winced, blinking his eyes several times as they adjusted to the light. Examining his surroundings, he saw his comrades all in various modes of impatience: Irvine, fiddling with his rifle; Zell in a fighting stance, striking out at thin air; Quistis holding the lift and fingering her weapon; and Rinoa, gazing off into the night, forlorn and sullen. We just abandoned some of her closest friends, he realized. She acts as if it was her fault, not simply SeeD protocol. “Okay, let’s move out.” Squall commanded, his tone firm and authoritative. In a group of SeeDs as experienced as his own, such rudimentary orders were understood and not verbalized, but more than anything he spoke to soothe Rinoa, to distract her from anxiety. His other companions apparently recognized this as they simply nodded in reply and filed onto the lift. In a moment, the two were alone. “Rinoa,” he began softly, extending a hand to her. “I, we…” he paused, searching for words. After a moment, she turned from the stars and looked up at him, understanding in her eyes. “I know.” She replied simply, and with a weak, forced smile, “Well, let’s get going.” Taking his outstretched hand, she walked briskly towards the lift, leading him by the wrist. As they were about to set foot on the lift, she stopped abruptly and again faced Squall. “Squall, you’re not giving up on… are you? Promise…” She choked on her words, emotion surfacing regardless of any attempt to suppress it. Uninhibited, tears welled up in her eyes, and she collapsed into his arms. Squall held her reassuringly, but again found himself unable to produce any soothing words. The uncomfortable silence between the two persisted, broken only by her muffled sobs. He tightened his arms around her and rested his head on hers, taking in the feel and mild scent of her silky jet hair. As Rinoa wept into his chest, Squall became abruptly aware of unusual feelings within him. Utterly alien at first sight, however he sensed another, deeper element: one that he could not fully perceive. Beneath an outlandish exterior, these feelings were a fundamental and immutable piece of him. More specifically, he experienced a sudden urge to push her away, and in his confusion he did. “Squall!” Rinoa let out a startled yelp, loosing her footing momentarily and falling onto the back of one of the chairs, propping herself up by her elbows. Squall, equally taken aback, recoiled several steps, almost stumbling into a bulkhead behind him. For a moment, he shook his head quickly, looking nervously from side to side, before he realized what he had done. “Rinoa…” He muttered, face expressionless, but concern filling his eyes and voice. He started towards her cautiously, slowly as if to dissuade her from fleeing, which, given the events transpiring moments prior, did not seem to him a remote possibility. As he approached, she pressed herself further back against the chair and stood crouched, but supported by her own feet, not unlike a cornered animal, readying itself for fight or flight. Mindful of her justifiable apprehension, Squall halted and dropped to one knee. “Rinoa, I’m sorry.” He said simply and honestly, offering a hand out to her. Rinoa glanced about nervously, and as if her instincts had concluded that there was no escape, she appeared to concede. She stood upright and lifted her right hand slowly and in segments, prepared to pull back at an instant’s notice, but eventually, her hand was outstretched, only inches from his. Warily, she put her left foot forward and stepped towards him. At that instant, her trepidation dissolved and she clasped Squall’s waiting hand firmly and smiled. As Squall exhaled his relief, she giggled suddenly and quickly clasped her free hand over her mouth, only the twinkle in her eyes intimating her mirth. “What is it?” Squall asked, half frowning, confused, and entirely oblivious. Rinoa shook her head and sighed, her face reddening as though she could bear no more. Her left hand, removed from her mouth, fluttered wildly through the air, her best attempt at illustrating the source of her laughter. Following her hand with his eyes, Squall was finally able to grasp the apparent cause of he amusement, and in doing so blushed. He realized, of course, their relative positions: Rinoa, reaching her hand out and taking his; and himself, kneeling before her and looking up. Rinoa stepped towards him, still laughing, and the red flush of his face deepened further. She eyed him expectantly, receiving only a mildly annoyed glare in response. “Of course I will,” she joked. “you can get up now.” Squall snapped to his feet and stood perfectly upright, almost rigid. For a short time they said nothing again, making intense eye contact, to the point where Squall blinked his eyes in an attempt to focus them. After another moment of heavy silence, Rinoa stepped forward, leaned in, and kissed him. Astounded by her forwardness and erratic behavior, it took Squall several seconds to recover from his surprise and return the kiss. An eternity seemed to pass before she broke off and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and pressing herself to him. He returned a weak embrace, staring blackly into the distance, scrutinizing his emotions and his newfound compulsions. Eventually, the two released and proceeded down the lift. * *
In the nearly pitch black, Rinoa shut her eyes and took in the other senses of Balamb. The faint crashing of distant waves was audible, but only barely above the active cricket population; and the scent was a fresh, slightly salty one. Opening her eyes again, she looked skyward and saw that the clouds had cleared and the starts were gleaming brilliantly. Save the temperature, it was truly a beautiful night. But as soon as Rinoa had begun to relax and enjoy her setting, the tranquility was shattered by the bass rumble of an internal combustion engine and blaring high beam lights. A medium sized vehicle, bearing the black and white Garden logo, pulled up approximately ten feet in front of the Ragnorak. The engine shut off, and the passenger side door slid open to reveal Xu and several other SeeD administrators. She hopped out and jogged towards Squall, stopping directly in front of him and saluting. Squall was about to protest her formality but as he opened his mouth she began to speak. “Commander!” She nearly shouted, her voice dripping discipline and a carefully rehearsed address. “Reporting sir!” “That’s good enough.” Squall said, motioning her to an “at ease” posture. “We need to report to Headmaster Cid on the current situation, so let’s proceed to Garden now.” “Right.” She replied, dropping her tone and settling for an incline of the head rather than a full salute. “Get in the van.” She about faced quickly and trotted towards the waiting vehicle, followed by Squall and the other SeeDs. Rinoa lingered behind, Squall noticed, but chose not to intervene. She’s probably wondering what happened in the cockpit. He shuddered, realizing he was equally curious, and though he better suppressed it, equally frightened if not more so. As he stepped into the van, she turned broke from her slight trance and hurried to join the others. She stepped in and Xu slid the door shut. The engine sputtered to life and then roared momentarily, causing a minor jolt while the van began to move. Xu stood to the front of the compartment, next to a large screen, which displayed a still frame of the Garden logo on a sky blue background. “The Galbadians are jamming communications in the Timber region,” Squall started in. so I’ll need to bring you up to date on the situation.” “All in time.” She responded. “However, there may be more… pressing issues at the moment.” “Such as?” “Well, I don’t suppose you’ve been watching the news?” |