Godsend

"The Bastion does have another function, strictly speaking. If ever the monument ever blew out, and we couldn't repair it, we could still... evacuate. First we'd round up as many folks as we could carry. Next, we'd detonate the cores, and we'd take off... away from here. Of course that would mean no going back. Ever. But then again, that way all of us could leave the City. Together."

- Rucks, on Evacuation.

A wise man once said that the only good thing that came out of the past was history. That one could go back and try to correct their mistakes did not mean they should - even more than failure, such an eventuality could end up creating a greater mistake and perpetuate an escalating cycle of torment.

Zia tentatively thought of going forward. All of her best times were had after the Calamity. Although it is a selfish desire, she wants to make the choice - to evacuate - but she holds back. She understands that the Kid has earned the right to decide, just like the Kid decided to take Zulf along for the ride. Looks like the Kid had a heart, as little as his face often showed it.

The kid does decide. Throwing the lever, he detonates the cores, the force hurling the Bastion into the air, where it is suspended and ready to be piloted away to new pastures.

Flying was different. Okay, so skyways served as a primer, but the sensation of being whisked away was brief, and it felt more like an assisted leap than true flight. The sensation of having the ground you walk on levitate amidst the clouds was a different story. Any moment now, the Kid suspected he might just walk off the edge by accident, and had thus been very vigilant whenever he left the construct's interior.

Rucks was indifferent for the most part, giving the situation as much equanimity as cold tea.

Zulf was still comatose - it had only been two days since his horrific beatdown at the hands of the Tazal Terminals survivors - so he wasn't available for comment.

Zia was the only person aboard who could be said to genuinely appreciate the situation, and not just because she was still giddy that evacuation had been chosen. All of them could leave behind their tragedies and mistakes and find a home from home. She quickly made a habit of climbing to a high place and just...feeling the breeze roll over her face. The experience was exactly opposite to that of being locked in with the stale air that usually collected in Ura dens.

After three more days and liberal drinks of bastion bourbon and health tonics, Zulf was functional (if not in mint condition) and insisted on making himself useful by taking on odd jobs such as preparing the occasional meal and walking down the mechanical Pyth model when it got a little bit too uppity.

In theory, there were plenty of times when he could take a little time to himself to contemplate how things turned out and what Zulf would actually do if - when - they did find another civilisation they could touch down in. Perhaps those people would like to learn about Uran and Caelondian culture? Maybe they'd have some really strong spirits for him to down? Zulf wouldn't like to admit it for fear of ruining his professional esteem (that is, ruin it further than his smoking already had), but he'd taken to the bottle quickly after things had transpired.

In practice, though, whenever the Kid and Zia weren't busy, they tended to rope him into things - talk about their lives before everything went south, disclose the events of their dreams and play games of catch the squirt. In reference to the former, the Kid was surprised and somewhat creeped out at how closely their stories matched up to what he'd been told by a phantom voice in Who Knows Where.

"Hey, Zulf! Storytelling time if you want to come!" Zia said

"In a little bit." Zulf replied, but the Kid would be having none of it. He walked in, all business, and practically dragged him out. Zulf resigned himself.

"Zulf, I believe it's your turn."

"Okay. Here goes..." The story was headed off at the pass as the Bastion came to a stop, and an announcement came from the bridge.

"Our first and last stop! The Motherland!"

The what?

The Motherland? The Kid almost seemed to flash to the edge of the Bastion and tumbled off without a second thought, landing firmly, but safely, on soils familiar and yet completely alien. Rucks, Zulf and Zia followed soon afterward.

"And just like that, we found ourselves on ancestral ground." Rucks stated.

"I can't believe we crossed the sea that fast!" Zia proclaimed.

"Never doubt the power of the world's memory." Rucks responded cryptically. They scoured the horizon and found a cluster of houses within walking distance, setting off on their way, followed by the pecker, squirt and bull.

"Hello?" Zia shouted. Straining, Zulf saw a group of silhouettes come closer and informed the others of their location. The two groups advanced until they were face-to-face. The Motherland people looked appropriately startled. Smiling (a little one, but when did the Kid ever smile?), the Kid turned to look back at the Bastion, inviting the strangers to do the same.

"Pretty grand, ain't it? You ever heard of a land called Caelondia?" Rucks asked. Their reactions indicated that no, they hadn't.