epilogue

There is a small, square black case that is kept under lock and key in Xu's desk. It is, formally, evidence in the trial against Rinoa Leonhart- informally, it is the way out of this whole mess. Rinoa will stay asleep for only so long, and if the reports are right about the contents of the case, there may even be a way to avoid a firing squad.

Xu has to respect her former commander, just a little, for being so steadfast throughout this latest turn- she would have expected him to be fetal in a corner somewhere. If she were in his shoes, she might very well be. Very little in life is harder than knowing someone you love is going to die, but he issued the order that would end his wife's existence; she will not do him the dishonor of redacting it. Not now. Not when there's so much at stake and Quistis is missing.

She presses a series of numbers on the keypad, a complex combination that would take even Garden's supercomputers days to break through. The safe slides open with a hiss, and Xu lifts the heavy case out carefully. There is a heavy-duty zipper wrapped around the edges; it parts as smoothly as butter when she opens it.

The light from her desk lamp glistens off of the glass vials nestled in their foam bed. Red, orange, green.

Red, orange, green.

She touches each one gently, tracing the smooth, gently rounded curve of the glass. The needles are massive, designed to puncture through the toughest skin, four inches long and capped in thick plastic.

It would be so easy. Red, orange, green. Leonhart leaves his dormitory occasionally, long enough to eat or train or, hell, get piss drunk. There are so many options to make him leave Rinoa's side. An interrogation, a follow-up interview, a psychiatric evaluation, and god knows he could stand to have his head examined.

Red, orange, green.

She lifts one of the syringes out of the case, wondering at the weight of it. This must have cost Leonhart a fortune, not that he doesn't have the money. The researchers at Deep Sea are just as mercenary as Garden is, only they're in it for the science and the gil, not the bloodshed that will come of it.

Red-

She sets the first needle down, grazes her fingers across the second.

Orange-

She wonders what the effects would be, giving Rinoa this much serum with the current cocktail of drugs running through the young woman's system. It wouldn't be anything good.

It would be so simple, to call Leonhart away from his wife and put an end to the misery. Maybe he would even volunteer to do it himself. He was going to, anyway, or at least try to. Xu isn't sure he quite has the nerves of steel he used to.

The green needle is thinner than the others, roughly half the circumference. The needle is just as large as the others, however. This would be the most dangerous part, she imagines, once it is figured out what is happening. Once the serum starts taking over the magic, and there is only raw, violent power, a final atomic burst-

That's poetic, she thinks. Xu is not one for poetry, unless it is on the battlefield, and this is battle of the finest kind. This is Garden's mission. This is what they were built for. Cid Kramer would appreciate it, even now, his body worm food at the hands of the very soldiers he had bred and raised.

It's funny how that works out.

Xu watches the way the light glints off the edge of the needle, appreciating its flash and flare, frowning when her phone rings. She sets the needle back in the case, and takes a moment to close up the entire assembly, locking it back into her desk before she snatches up the handset.

"Yes?"

She listens, and she does not believe the words that she is hearing. This is impossible.

This changes everything.

"I'll be there immediately," she snaps. "Don't do anything until I tell you to."

She takes the stairs two at a time, flying down them until she bursts through the door at the end of the first floor stairwell, slowing as she hits the hallways, because appearance is everything in command, and she will not have this getting out of hand before she has even gotten a proper situation report. Xu smooths down her skirt around her knees and ensures that her tie is centered before she makes the final turn.

The air in the hallway leading to the infirmary stinks of Thundaga, and someone is weeping.

xx

To be continued in Civil War.