[CDR]Requiem for a Dream

[Zaxton Books]

~Status~
Time: Two Months after my disappearance (about six months after the start of the Shadow Clan vs Dollet War)
Location: Alexander's Keep - Old Dynamo Mountain Base. Biggswood.
Theme: In the End (Piano Instrumental)
~Status~

The old command quarters were still where they had always been, tucked into the thick granite of this extinct volcano, near the top, about halfway through the thick walls. They were fairly expansive, furnished with polished wood floors and bright white walls. The room was extremely well lit, by phantasm windows, showing, today, a view from a high-rise building in Jenovah. The old desk was still there, the side-rooms with beds and such were still there.

Indeed, the only detail of the command room that changed was the addition of a grand piano, where the new commander of what had become Clan Dynamic Requiem sat, playing an old song from memory. He was wearing only his slacks and shirt; the tunic of command hanging unworn on the back of the door as he played. His movements carried a measure of both passion and sadness. A great many things had been lost in the past two months.

Thus far, intelligence had failed to locate Locke, or any of his family. Shadow Clan had overrun Dollet, to the point where the once-enemy had come to request, no, beg for support from this other clan. The HUV outbreak had been stopped, thanking the Totema for small favours, but not before a large number of people had succumb to it.

And as if that wasn't enough, the Shadow Clan had managed to hunt down the Figaro base. For all Vyse Kursk knew, they were preparing to converge on this spot from the very beginning.

A knock came at the door, and an orderly stepped in. "Sir."
"What is it, Dellente?"
"The Glorious Tiger is requesting clearance to land."
"Order the port open. I'm on my way."
"As you wish, sir."

A crisp salute, and the man left. Vyse folded his hands in his lap for a moment, before getting up to grab his coat, and rush after him, that they could ride the lift together.



"Captain, I don't see how we can be expected to land here. There's nowhere to put the ship down."
On the bridge of the Tiger, Captain Amy Retto pinched her nose, fur bristling at the constant nagging of the helmsman. "Shall I have Navigation confirm our location for you again, Ensign? These were the co-ordinates we were given."

Even as they watched, the top of the mountain shimmered like a mirage and faded away.


Vyse's lift was about halfway down the cavernous docking chamber when all the lights went out, except for a few red channel markers, and similar lights noting the edges of the cavern, of his lift's shaft, and of the two great adamantium panels that were currently sliding open at the top of the cavern. In the dim haze of sunlight filtering in from above, he could see the Tiger slowly descending. As soon as it was clear, the great doors closed again, and the lighting came back on in full. The harbour could fit three capital ships, in addition to the compliment of fighters that the base itself kept on standby. Vyse arrived on the last available platform, stepping off the lift. His coat hung over his shoulders, almost cape-like. A voice echoed throughout the cavern.

"Docking procedure complete. Welcome home, Damascus IV"

[Zaxton Books]

"The final report from the landing crew is complete, Captain."

The Executive Officer span about in her chair to face Amy, her green-tinged skin causing the Captain to wince at the painful reminder of the effects of HUV. At this, Rebecca smirked slightly, before continuing. "Docking cradle integrity is reported above nominal levels."
"Acknowledged, XO. Order all hands to begin unloading. I want a fifteen man skeleton crew to remain behind and begin refitting this ship as the Damascus IV."

Vyse returned the crisp salute with a rather lazy one of his own. "Good Afternoon, Captain. It's an honour to finally meet you."
Accepting the handshake with a slight smile, Amy gestured to her side. "Likewise, Commander. This is my executive officer, Rebecca Hardy."
"How do you do?"
"Charmed. The rest of the Commune personnel are aboard?"
"Yes sir, except for..."
Rebecca winced, "Lieutenent Sours went on a supply run to Baguba port, and hasn't reported in since."
"I'm sorry. I'll detail a rescue team from one of the finished ships. The Dynamo, perhaps."

A technician stepped off the list, running over to mumble something to Vyse.

"There's an active radio transformer aboard your ship, captain."
"Yes, it's ours."
"Ah. You see, we've invoked radio silence within this base, to curtail the ability of the Shadow Clan to find it. If you please?"
Rebecca nodded, and ran back up the ramp.

"Commander, permission to begin offloading passengers and crew?"
"Permission granted. They may proceed to the assembly hall on Level Three. I have announcements, orders, and instructions for them."
"Yes, Commander. XO."
"Yes, Captain. Deck officer, begin disembarking."
"Yes, XO."

Vyse watched for a moment, until Dellente tugged on his shoulder again. "Boss, the Lords Council wishes to see you."
"Of course they do."

He stalked off, riding the lift upward, and putting his coat on more properly. "How do I look, Dellente?"
"Well enough, sir."

He stepped into a large, empty room, the door locking behind him. Three of the walls shimmered, emboldened by Phantasm, before the images of three seperate men were splashed across them. One, the smirking face of Lord London, hat pulled low to cover his eyes. The other, the helm and visor of Lord Izumi. The third, the silver mask and red cloak of Lord Bon.

"Good Afternoon, Commander." Their voices, so heavily distorted as to seem mechanical, called to him.
"Lords. You have something to report?"
"Yes. Shadow Clan has begun occupation of Balamb in place of Dollet." Izumi intoned. "They located our warehouse there and had it destroyed. Sir Paris and many of my other men fell in the incident."
Vyse winced, "I'm truly sorry for our losses, Lord Izumi." A flicker of movement. "You have something to add, Lord London?"
"Yes sir. Your daughter boarded an airship bound for Galbadia this morning. It will arrive in six hours." a wince. "Just behind the Shadow Clan's occupation forces."
Vyse uttered a Midgarian curse under his breath, turning to face London. "What is your current position?"

"Three rooms aft of hers."
"Do you think you could arrange a takeover of the ship?"
"Piracy isn't exactly my field, Captain."
"... Understood." Vyse glanced over his shoulder. "And you, Bon?"
"Nothing to report, Commander."

Vyse was soon in the harbour control room, depressing the switch that would cause the magic of the cave to boom his voice to all chambers. "New Orders. The crew of the Bacchus is to report immediately to ship and capture Galbadia. I will be accompanying."
"Sir, the briefing."
"You handle it, Dellente. I've got a fly to catch."
"Yes, Commander."

[DarkValkyr]

Phillip disembarked the Tiger and eyed the area with slight interest. He sighed for a moment, almost at a loss. Spending a long time in START, he had grown accustomed to the lifestyle he'd adapted. He had greatly improved in the last few months since the dawn of the war. However, it all came to the attack that had destroyed everything about Dollet that he had grown to love.

He wasn't too certain on the events that transpired, where he was or what exactly he did. All that he knew was that he survived, and since then he had been with Amy in the fight against Shadow Clan. The situation looked dire, at least for those living on Balamb. He hasn't left Balamb for over a year now, and was quite concerned about what the lands outside have been doing.

He briefly recalled then that he did see Cochran and Brittany recently, but how recent it was eludes him. His memory was hazy as he walked on to the assembly hall. He kept his grip tight on his pole as he plowed on. He had been able to walk without any aid of his walking stick for awhile now, but it still felt firm on his hand like a pillar as he used it as a tool to walk. He no longer had the old wooden staff -- it was lost during the attack in Dollet. Again, where it was when it was lost escapes him. Regardless, this darksteel pole was more comfortable to him now.

For awhile, he felt mellow. He had really no idea why, perhaps it was because he had this feeling of loss, or maybe the feeling he was missing something. This feeling had came to him before, but like many things, he had no idea when. This created another hollow pang. He shook himself and plodded on, keeping an eye for Amy in the process.

[cielo]

Zallaurot exited the soon-to-be Damascus VI and stood on the platform outside, waiting for his friends.

His hair had grown a bit over the past few months, though he'd obviously gotten a trim at one point, and he was a bit taller--he was also, by common definitions, becoming a man, having turned sixteen in his second month at the compound.

Zallaurot wouldn't admit to getting any better at magic, as he still viewed it with disdain, but he had obviously improved quite a bit with his thought-into-action variety of occult power. Properly casting Cure still seemed to be beyond him, however, though at one point, the well-travelled and irritatingly charming Nume Miroka (the one who was sweet on Greta, though Zallaurot really wasn't sure why that bothered him) had suggested he distorted magic fields, apparently including his own. Whatever that meant.

Speak of the devil. Nume disembarked as well, looking around with a critical eye. He was about a year older and a few inches taller than Zallaurot, with straight, untangled dark hair and a strange look to his eyes--it was somewhere between reptilian yellow and human gray.

"I hope the big guys here aren't mad at me for burning down the Damask Resolution. But, I mean, they made it outta wood, would have happened eventually anyways."

Zallaurot scoffed and turned back to the ramp, expecting Greta.

[Aredjay]

Ostor Shayde disembarked the ship after Zal. He had spent his time at the Commune either running small errands for Rebecca or studying in the library -- his assigned post. He had learned a fair bit about necromancy at this point, including a few not-so-dark methods of reviving the dead. He had also contracted HUV at some point, but it was easily taken care of using his powerful magic.

Remembering that incident, the mage winced. He felt horrible, that he could purge himself of the disease in its infancy while Rebecca, Todd, and Darryl still suffered with the adult form... However, he had promised to help them recover in any way he could in exchange for their help with his own problems. And he never forgot that promise for a moment.

Ostor paused a moment, looking upward slightly, his face still shrouded in darkness.

Oh yeah...my 18th birthday was recently. I'd forgotten about that. ...But that means that she'd be 18 that day, too...

His slight grin melted into a sigh, and he descended the ramp.

[Zaxton Books]

Greta would arrive last of the group, in tow of Persiphone, both looking quite tired. The evacuation of the Commune had not gone as smoothly as some would hope, and Persiphone and Greta, as with many of the magic-users aboard ship, had been kept very busy for the entire four-day cruise from Baron.

Greta would make a beeline for Zal, tapping his shoulder gently with an idle hand as she examined the vast empty space that was this hidden, sanctuary-like harbour.

Amy was conversing with Dallente near the main walkway, seemingly discussing business matters.

Meanwhile, a large group of people had disembarked from the lift, rushing to the next ship in the dock, the Bacchus. They appeared to be mostly engineers, probably moving to bring the ship into an operational stance.

[cielo]

Zallaurot and Nume both gave Greta tired smiles at the same time, though the former's seemed more sincere. "How was the flight for you?" he asked.

[Aredjay]

Ostor wandered the hangar, looking around for any of the Diseased. He felt much safer around them than usual, probably because he'd inoculated himself against the virus already due to prior exposure.

[DarkValkyr]

Cochran exited the ship with Brittany behind. Brittany had made her way to the commune in the same month of the dangers, but she quickly adapted to the sights of Jagd Helje's commune - including to the frightful visage of the infected, though she eventually saw through it and saw normal ordinary people. She kept herself busy as a doctor in town. She surprised herself upon the bountiful medicines that could be conjured in rare mushrooms and herbs that grew in the darker corners of the commune.

Cochran's arms had developed a little more since he finally started working on armors. While his specialty wasn't exactly smithing the armor itself, it was more of the fine tuning on the delicate sections that he excelled in and so he made fine armor without using too much resources on the main plate. He stretched them as he peered out and kept an eye for several people. They never got a chance to actually see Phillip as he spent most of the trip apparently drowsy. They did meet once, all three of them, but it was a short one, for Phillip had urgent matters to attend to.

Still, Brittany shrugged it off and smiled, relieved knowing that Phillip was fine. However, both she and Cochran couldn't rest easy until Seth'eus was found again, wherever he may be.

For Cochran, however, he could feel a bit uneasy during the conversation with Phillip, which he cursed himself for. He was his best friend, how could he actually feel this tense wall between them? They were in no way apart, it was just the circumstances that said otherwise. As he recalled the brief exchange, his blue eyes fell on Greta, Zal and Nume. While Brittany felt that Zal's talents reminded her immediately of Seth's ability of Black Magic, Cochran more or less felt that the child was more destined for destructive purposes.

The two approached them casually, and waved. "You all enjoyed the ride, kupo?" Cochran said. It was far more than a joyride for the Moogle. The white-furred teenager quickly zipped and saw through the entire ship on the first several hours of the trip. The amazing capacity of the Glorious Tiger caused the bat-mole hybrid to tingle with joy at every turn in its mechanics. To simply put it, it was glorious.

-----
Some distance away, Phillip had managed to recompose himself and took steps towards Amy. He stood some distance away as he noticed she was still talking to someone and it seemed like a matter he'd rather not disturb.

[cielo]

"Pleasant enough," Nume said, still wearing a smile. "I might have flown over here myself, but big gray lizards are a bit more conspicuous than large airships, it looks like."

Zallaurot looked past Cochran at the mountain base. "We should probably get goin' in, shouldn't we."

[DarkValkyr]

The moogle looked to his back, eying the mountain as if it was a dreadful thing. "I guess, kupo."

[DarkValkyr]

Cochran felt barely anything. He wasn't too much into magic, but Brittany definitely felt something and trembled a moment. "I don't have any idea what it would be, but it's certainly something." she said quietly.

[Aredjay]

Ostor had vanished...and reappeared again.

[Aredjay]

Finding nothing else to do, Ostor walked to where the Bacchus was docked, watching the engineers work. He thought it best not to bother any of the Diseased at the moment; they might be busy.

[Aredjay]

Ostor had, by now, handwritten a message to Rebecca asking her to contact him if he was needed for anything, given it to a random official, and vanished. In the message, he promised that he would keep searching for an HUV cure on his travels.