Disclaimer: Not my characters or universe, just one mediocre follow-up storyline.

A/N: Unbeta-ed, excuse my tenses and other errors. COMPLETE

Chapter 3

She winced at the emotions expressed in the pair of eyes just across her. Or rather, the lack of an emotion. Though they sat mere feet away from each other, the gap between them felt eons wide. She opened her mouth, words on the tip of her tongue, but failed to utter a single syllable.

Swallowing hard, she tried again, forcing a smile onto her face. “I see you haven’t forgotten,” she said, gesturing to the red ribbon which lay beside them. “It’s nice to know my friends still remember me." She hoped that she was remembered fondly.

One look at the face of the woman sitting against the wall should have been enough to know that her attempt at making peace had backfired. The bitter words that crashed into her ears more than confirmed her suspicions.
“Of course you appreciated me wearing it. It brought him right into your bed, didn’t it?”

They both recoiled, one shocked at what has slipped past her lips and the other shocked at what she has just heard.

“It’s Cloud’s own choice. I didn’t force him.” She retorted in indignation. “And for the record, I’ve barely touched him.” She straightened up, staring straight ahead. It was clear that the other woman did not believe her words. Actually, she wasn’t even sure if she believed it herself.

“I’m sorry,” the other woman offered, drawing her knees up to her chest, rocking silently on the tiled floor. “I know you haven't. You're not like that.”

“I’m sorry, too." It was all she could say in response.

People said that words said in anger were truthful words. She wondered if this was true. An awkward silence settled over them.Aerith didn’t know why she had come here today. She didn’t know what she had aimed to accomplish by her visit. Maybe she’d been selfish enough to try to convince herself that her trysts weren’t harming anyone but themselves. Maybe she’d been worried enough about Tifa to come and see how she was holding up.

Holding up. Those two words already tell you that something’s wrong. You’re the most pathetic Cetra Gaia has ever seen. Aerith’s berating of herself was cut short as Tifa stood abruptly to her feet.“If there’s nothing else, I would appreciate if you’d go back to where you came from so I can take a bath. I need to start breakfast soon,” said Tifa brusquely.

Stung by Tifa’s casual dismissal, Aerith stuttered in response.“I could wait for when you’re done...”Tifa turned around to face her. “Wait for me? Whatever for?”

For once, she was glad she didn’t blush anymore.Aerith found herself grasping for words. “I… I thought we could catch up with each other. Talk to each other. I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

Tifa turned back to the shower to check the water, hair spilling across her shoulder, obscuring her face. “Well, you picked the wrong time. I’m busy right now. I’m sorry.”

Her tone was curt, but Aerith heard something else in it. Something that made her walking over to Tifa’s side, muster enough will to become corporeal, and to lay a hand on her friend’s shoulder.“I..,” she hesitates, searching for the words. “I just want you to know that I still think of you as my best friend, even you don’t think so anymore.” Words spilled past Aerith’s lips as she fought to express her emotions. “I wish I didn’t keep hurting you. I wish that…” Aerith’s voice caught in her throat.

Tifa turned to face her, something shimmering in her eyes.“I’ll... I’ll talk to you later. Okay?” Tifa’s voice is softer, more vulnerable than it had ever been throughout the entire conversation. Without waiting for an answer, Tifa stepped into the cubicle, drawing the shower curtain behind her.Aerith stepped back, letting herself fade away from human sight. She could wait. They were all worth waiting for, she told herself.

They are all worth as much as he is.

~

She sat cross legged on the edge of Denzel’s bed, eyes listlessly tracing the chequered pattern of the quilt. Gazing around the dull-coloured room, she smiled wistfully at the childish drawings that littered the drab room, chipped toys that lay under the drawers and cabinets. A lone square of colour on his bedside table caught her eye.

Bending down over the tiny dresser, she peered at the faces captured in the photo. The jubilant members of AVALANCHE, victorious after the Geostigma crisis, smiled up at her. Aerith felt as if her breath should catch in her chest.

The joyful countenances in the photo were in stark contrast to the brooding atmosphere that now blanketed Seventh Heaven. Especially his. After Cloud had defeated Sephiroth’s Remnants, he’d seemed more open, more at peace with himself. He’d been able to form a connection with Denzel and Marlene, been able to play the role of a big brother, a father, even. He had been able to give them the childhood which he himself never really had. He had seemed close to locking his past away. But ghosts of the past never really leave those whom they used to haunt, and Cloud had slipped back into their grasp.

Aerith heard the door across the hall creak open, the velvet tread of soft boots across the warping wooden planks. Tifa was headed down the stairs, leaving her the only soul awake on the second floor of Seventh Heaven.

She didn’t want a confrontation. She believed neither of them did. They both needed time to think; time to straighten out their tangled thoughts. Voices drifted up from bar, and Aerith strained to listen.

“You okay?” Barret, predictably, was asking after Tifa.

Aerith couldn’t hear Tifa’s softer tones, and slipped down through the floor, hoping to hear news of Cloud.

“I don’t need your concern, Barret.” Tifa glanced at her watch as she pulled mugs and bottles out onto the bartop.

“Would you help me wake Marlene? I’m running late this morning.”

The big man inched towards the stairs, still facing Tifa, obviously rather unwilling to leave the matter. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Aerith winced again, expecting an explosion.

“I’m fine, Barret.” Tifa’s reply was surprisingly calm. “If I’ve anything to say, I’ll tell you later, not now. The walls have ears.”

“All the better that the children are still sleeping, then, if it isn’t fit for their ears. It is Cloud, isn’t it? What’s he done to you this time?” Barret was showing an emotional depth Aerith had never seen before.

“He’s done nothing. And I wasn’t talking about the children. I was talking about some other people who just insist on staying around.”

Aerith barely noticed the confused expression on Barret’s face, so shocked she was at the vitriol in Tifa’s normally gentle voice.

“It’s not your fault, Barret. I’m not angry with you. Just help me wake the kids up, alright?” Tifa attempted a smile.

Aerith didn’t hear Tifa’s words, but instead slipped out the door. Seventh Heaven had become too painful a place for ghosts to haunt. A pity Cloud didn’t stay at home more often; the ghosts he carried would soon be exorcised, she reflected bitterly. Weaving between the people on the street, she ran for the familiarity of the Midgar slums.

The Sector 7 plate had been brought down by the AVALANCHE terrorists on the night she met him. He’d fallen right through the roof. Both her boyfriends had, and through them both, she’d taken hold of her birthright.

She moved unerringly toward her destination, undaunted by numerous dangers the ruins of Midgar held for the living. They could not harm her. The piles of wreckage lay around her, rusted and corroded, twisted by immense force. A gothic building built in the ages past loomed suddenly out of the fog, its intact infrastructure at odds with the destruction that surrounded it. Stopping outside the doors of the Sector 7 church, Aerith hesitated.

Aerith laid a hand on the familiar walls, running her fingers over the grooves and cracks of the door, almost able to feel the rough, weathered wood under her fingertips. She hoped being here would help her find some measure of peace and mind, as it had done for her so many times in the past.

It had since been desecrated, first by Turks, then by remnants, before being sanctified by her healing rain. It now held a pool of clear pristine water, around which grew flowers of pure white and iridescent yellow. It was a place where Aerith felt at home. Pushing the doors open, Aerith slipped through the old wooden pews, skirting piles of debris and fallen pillars only half visible through the mist until she reached the edge of the flower bed. Silently, she moved among the flowers, running an ethereal palm across the delicate petals, which swirled at her touch, as if caught by a gentle breeze.

Around her, soaring rafters and beams of wood painstakingly carved by artisans long forgotten stretched to the skies, held up by majestic stone pillars. The wall to the left had been blown apart in the days of the Geostigma crisis, and already, her flowers were creeping up the ruins and out into the ruins of Midgar. The first rays of sunlight shone through the massive break in the wall, dimmed by the fog which hung heavily even over the surface of the water.

Aerith halted at the edge of the pool. An urge caught her suddenly, and she gathered her will to her, coalescing into a visible, nearly tangible body. Stepping into the water, Aerith waded out into the lake, shattering its smooth glass surface. The fog swirled around her, enveloping her in its embrace. The almost-sensation of the frigid water on her skin, the almost-feeling of the water-laden dress against her body was exquisite, and for once, Aerith could pretend that she was human again. She could pretend she was alive.

Aerith came to a stop in the centre of the pool, in front of the polished Buster Sword entombed in its shrine of flowers. Staring at the blade, tracing its minute crevices, pale scratches, keen edge and clean sheen, she could not stop her mind from wandering away into the hours, days and weeks long submerged by the endless tides of time.

In front of Aerith, the waters lay as still as molten glass, distorting wavelengths of light into the alpha, beta, gamma, and the countless other frequencies she could not sense. The lights danced across her perfect reflection on the water’s surface, creating shimmering ripples that flowed through her to touch the aged wood and stone behind.

The voice caught her unawares, but it was not unfamiliar to her. It whispered through the microscopic cracks in the plaster of the walls, through the rays of light filtering down into the church, weaving through the sparkling motes of dust in the air.

“You are troubled, child.” Instinctively, the Cetra knew it was the planet who was speaking to her. Then, the glass surface in front of her broke, and her reflection rose out of the water, taking an ethereal shape. Impossibly, this mirror image of Aerith rose to its feet, walking on the water’s surface to stand before her.

Startled at the familiar visage now looking her straight in the face, Aerith took a step back, stumbling as only a ghost could stumble; shocked, horrified, and even repulsed by the form the planet had chose to take. Even so, her conscience whispered to her that she should feel honoured, that the planet had chosen to exalt her so, using Aerith’s mortal image in all the planet’s immortal glory.

“I’m not.” Aerith turned away from the planet’s avatar, shoulders hunched, feeling as if something in her chest should be hammering away, but instead feeling only an empty void.

“It is the price you pay for lingering in the world of men,” the planet’s voice, like her image, was identical to Aerith’s own. The avatar moved around her so they could stand face to face, light trickling off its form as water would have trickled off any other person.

“And it’s a price I’m willing to pay. In fact, it’s no price at all!” Aerith snapped in reply, averting her eyes from that of the planet’s avatar. Though those brown eyes matched hers, they were somehow more beautiful, yet more terrifying than her own. “There’s nothing you can say that can make me change my mind.” Aerith ran her hands through her hair in frustration, wisps of brown hair escaping the pink ribbon she perpetually wore, even in death.

The planet’s voice became softer, “Even you can see that your presence here is destructive. You are wise beyond your years, and have carried such burdens that none should ever have to bear.”

“I won’t believe that, I’ve earned at least the right to self-delusion.” Aerith laughed bitterly. “He’s happy now. More peaceful that he’s ever been.”

“You know what you say is not true. He isn’t getting better because of you. He’s getting worse. You’re pulling him down. And you’re unbalancing nature, by being here. The laws that you are bound to are not changed, and neither have you been released from them. You must cease your childishness.”

“You have not the right to judge me! You were the one who called me to this duty. You were the one that made me take this path. Now, I’ve done all that you asked. I’ve done my duty – and more! Can’t you just leave me alone? Leave us alone?” Aerith’s vehement voice rang out, echoing around the aged stone columns. Her voice sounded harsh, far too harsh as compared to the avatar’s lilting tones.

“Our duty never leaves us. And you must not step off the path you have chosen. I believe that even if I had not called you, you would have still stepped up to save them all. That strength is in you. That strength will allow you to leave this mortal world behind, and join your waiting mother." The woman glided around her, stepping primly off the water’s surface and settling herself on one of the old wooden pews.

“And I do have the right to judge you.” The planet fixed her stern gaze upon Aerith, and the girl quailed slightly under it, taking a step further back into the water. “Especially when it concerns the lives of all that live on the planet,” the double of Aerith continued. “Your lingering here is disruptive.” The planet’s accusation was incongruous with its gentle tone.

“It isn’t!” Aerith folded her arms across her chest.

“You cannot deny it.” The planet stated forcefully. A hint of impatience had crept into its voice.

Aerith turned her back to the avatar, arms still stubbornly folded. A fierce passion burned in her chest where there was none before. “I don’t want to hear you anymore. I’ll stay here as long as I want. I’ve already sacrificed so much. I won’t give them up.” Aerith attempted to straighten her clothes and hair in an attempt to remain dignified. Her mind whirled with the red-hot flame of rebellion. No one had ever defied the planet before.

Aerith strode to the door, hair askew in the morning breeze. “I’m not going to listen anymore. When I feel it’s time to go, I’ll leave.”

“You are on a road that leads only to pain. And not only for yourself. I will not stand by and see you wreck all that you have helped me save.” The planet rose to her feet, not a hair out of place, her carriage both stately and elegant.

“And look at you. Your insistence on dwelling here has left you bereft of your radiance, bereft of your dignity. You do not shine as your kin do.” The planet’s admonishments fell on deaf ears.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” Aerith stalked off into the ruins of Midgar, leaving the avatar behind. The planet didn’t follow.

She didn’t really understand what she was doing either. A little voice whispered her that she should remove herself from this world, that what she was doing was hurting others. After all, she was already a constant witness to Tifa’s pain. But all she knew was only the ever-present longing that enveloped her; its clamor drowning out all rationality. Hurrying through the rapidly dissipating fog, Aerith left her once sanctuary more troubled than when she’d entered it.

A/N: And the third chapter! Tell me how it is, and point out my errors. I'm sure there are quite a few.

A/N: Updated with Chapter Two COMPLETE. And uh, unbeta-ed. Hope it isn't too bad.

Disclaimer: Not my characters.

Chapter 2

A soft buzzing interrupted their silent conversation. The girl ignored it, burrowing her face deeper into his neck. He ignored it too, choosing instead to tighten his arms around her. The buzzing stopped, and silence resumed its haunting song.

She loved being here in his arms; being able taste the wonderful emotions of peace and acceptance rolling off him. She’d never felt accepted by anyone, neither had she felt understood. With Deepground, she’d been sent on countless missions which were executed to exquisite perfection.All she had gained from her superiors was a hollow sense of achievement. But with this strange man, with a dark past and an uncertain future, living in the here and now was a joy she could scarcely take in.

All these emotions were still new to her. Feeling joy, anger, sadness and a myriad rainbow of other sensations still came as a surprise. She revelled in the things her once unfeeling heart could now experience.

And the best of it all was her love for the man holding her. A man possessed with a WEAPON, and the curse of immortal life. She couldn’t quite be sure that the deep abiding affection she felt was in fact her own. But it didn’t really matter. Not to her. The love and affection she felt was not going to mellow anytime soon, if at all, and for all the purposes of their relationship, it was enough.

The vibrations started up again, interrupting her thoughts. The girl opened her eyes and peered down into the red folds of his voluminous cloak. The phone definitely was ringing, and Vincent definitely wasn’t moving to answer it.
His choice, she thought. Shutting her eyes against the setting sun, and resting her cheek on his warm shoulder, she returned to the silence of their love-making.

Of course, not quite love-making, not as how one would think it. Still, it served the same purpose as love-making would in any other normal couple. But they weren’t normal, she thought. Not by a long shot. And the upside was that they could go on for hours where others could not. Her mouth curved into a smirk.

The caller certainly lacked neither determination nor persistence, she noted with no small amount of irritation. He or she was definitely unfazed by Vincent’s continued indifference to the ringing of his phone. The red-haired girl sat up unwillingly, peering into his face.

Unblinkingly, he stared into the reflections of the white monolithic trees on the calm azure surface of lake that lapped at his boots. She rolled her eyes. He had probably been waxing all philosophical inside his head; she was sure, oblivious to the insistent call of the piece of circuitry in his cloak pocket.

She nudged him, hoping to elicit a response. None was given. Not that she expected anything more. Letting out a frustrated sigh at the hint of a smile coming onto his face, she threw up her hands.

“All right, I’ll get it,” she stated. Reaching over him, she retrieved his phone and flipped it open.

“Vincent! Won’t you ever pick up your phone?” Barret’s worried voice blared out through the receiver.

She winced, holding the phone away from her ear.

“I’m not Vincent,” she replied.

“Could you put me through to him? He’s there, isn’t he?” Barret’s rough drawl took on a slightly forced tone, cold suspicion leaking from his voice. The child within her recoiled, retreating away. Her rational thought receded away, phone dropping from her frozen fingers.

She did not see Vincent snap his hand out to catch the phone a foot from the ground. She did not hear Vincent mutter a few quick words to Barret before slapping the phone shut. For blood roared in her ears; the only sound she could hear the pounding of her own heart.

Waves of emotion washed over her, each one radically different, from hurt, anger and resentment, to even a sense of resignation; the fact that she simply deserved such treatment. The world around her dissolved into a morass of impersonal colours. The urge to shut down emotionally and the urge to let her emotions run wild warred within her. Within her, The Transparent and the Scientist fought the girl Vincent loved.

But she felt the firm touch of Vincent’s hand on her shoulder. She held on to it like a lifeline, her only anchor in her emotional storm. She focused all her mental strength upon that steady, warm weight on the blade of her left shoulder as Vincent strove against the feelings that threatened to rip her of her identity.

“Shelke.” One monosyllabic word cut through whirlwind that was smothering her.

Slowly, the world coalesced into distinct shapes, the blur of colours in front of her eyes resolving into the face of her partner. Taking deep gasping breaths, Shelke grasped for her sanity, reining in her racing thoughts and emotions.

Vincent gathered her small frame into his arms. She hugged him back tightly, pouring out her love for him into the embrace, willing him to understand through her actions what her voice could not express. Looking into his eyes, she knew he understood.

“You’re getting better Shelke. It’s slow, but you’ll get there,” his slow, deep voice whispered in her ear, his flesh hand tracing circles on her back.

“Just…just hold me for a minute."

So they sat, motionless, his metal hand flashing blood-red in the dying sun.

~

The leaves above them rustled in the evening breeze, sending the last of the spring flowers down into the dirt. A black-haired man reclined in the grass, a red-haired girl curled up on the black chest of his bodysuit.

“So, what did Barret want?” Shelke absent-mindedly twirled a wisp of Vincent’s hair, fingers tracing his forehead.

“Cloud’s missing, apparently. It’s already night in Edge.”

“Really. And you’re supposed to find him?” Shelke shifted her weight of his chest, standing to her feet.

“Yeah.”

“And are you going to? I don’t want you to go.” Shelke knows she’s being selfish.

“Yes. But you’re coming with me. We could use your help.” Vincent stood and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Shelke broke into a wide smile. “Of course I’ll come along! Where do we start?”

“Now that where you come in handy, love,” crouching down, Vincent knelt face to face with her. “Think you can do a Synaptic Net Dive?”

Shelke hesitated, old fears rushing to her mind. Her abilities reminded her of years best forgotten. Reminded her of the person she once was. Reminded her of the mistakes she made.

“If you’re okay with it, that is. You could help make this search a lot easier. It’s not your abilities who determine who you are. It’s what you make of them.” Sensing her distress, Vincent placed a gloved hand on her cheek.

“Anyway, there’s a storm coming up here. It's probably already hit Edge. That’s probably what’s got them all worried about him.”

“I’ll do it.” Shelke’s voice shook slightly, she did not want to let Avalanche down, let him down.

“I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be getting the chocobos ready. Be back in a minute.” With a smile, Vincent handed her his phone and strode off into the trees.

Sitting down, Shelke pulled her utility vest to her, and removed the Worldwide Network interface from it. With swift, practiced moves, she hooked it up to the power supply in her vest. However, her movements became less confident as she rigged it up to be able to access the network using the connection from Vincent’s phone. Shelke was still reluctant to execute the SND, but she figured that doing this, helping AVALANCHE find Cloud, she might increase her standing in their eyes. Encouraged by that thought, Shelke took a deep breath, and placed the neural device on her head.

Images roared past her as she dived deep into the Worldwide Network, seeking information on Cloud’s whereabouts. She checked the communication records of all the cell phones in Gaia, checked the transactions of the few stations that sold the type of fuel needed to power the motorcycle Fenrir, even checked the ferry records of Junon and other ports. Nothing.

Frustrated, she dived into millions of terabytes of data, searching for any sign of Cloud’s whereabouts. Her efforts went unrewarded. Taking apart lines of binary code, she slipped through the countless firewalls, her mind working at speeds beyond even a super computer as she searched for any mention of him in recent missives or transactions.

Her efforts were fruitless. Defeated, she sat back and considered her options, all the while staying on the move, on the alert for the numerous security programmes that policed the network. Then all of a sudden, she was caught.
Her cyber body was frozen, suspended within the network, unable to move; unable to counteract whatever that was holding her. In panic, she activated whatever fail-safes she could think of. Nothing worked. In fact, the entire network seemed to have stalled. Time seemed to stand still around her; the streams of data and code, the electronic signals that the network ran on were as frozen as she was. She was indefinitely trapped in a state of limbo.

Then, she heard a voice. Which was technically and mechanically impossible. Her cyber ‘body’ was made up of lines of complex organic code. She couldn’t speak while doing a network dive; much less hear another’s voice. Neither could the lines of binary code around her.

The voice was oddly distorted, but she was positive that she had heard it somewhere before. Despite her surprise at this strange occurrence, she was even more surprised at what she heard.

“I’m sorry that I had to stop you like this. I really hope it doesn’t hurt. I’ve never done anything like this before,” the voice rippled and ebbed, flowing through her non-existent aural nerves.

Shelke was even more insulted now. She, the consummate hacker, one of the most deadly pieces of code on the Worldwide Network had been incapacitated by a complete novice.

She attempted to speak, only to find that she still was unable to do so. The voice continued, seemingly oblivious to her struggles.

“You’re looking for Cloud, aren’t you?” The voice became oddly tender upon mentioning Cloud, Shelke noticed. “He’s somewhere in near that Chocobo farm southeast of Kalm. I’m not actually too sure of his exact location. His PHS isn’t too much of a help, because of all the interference from the snowstorm he’s in.”

“Actually, he’s in trouble. He’s stranded as his motorcycle gave out in the storm.” Like she couldn’t make that logical leap for herself; had she been able to, Shelke would have huffed in indignation.

“So, please get AVALANCHE all organized and find him, he might get frostbitten if you don’t hurry. I really hope you and Vincent find him quick…” the voice took on a worried note.

“Thanks!” The voice was fading away. “You might be hearing from me again. It was nice to meet you, though. Never thought anyone could soften Vincent up….” The voice trailed off into the infinite depths of the Worldwide Network.

Shelke found that she could move again. In desperate attempt to uncover the owner of the ‘voice’, she cast her data-crawlers out in a wide net, searching for any sign of the mysterious entity who had accosted her. She found absolutely nothing.

In frustration, she took out her anger on a couple of World Regenesis Organisation cyber watchdogs before pulling her mind out of the Worldwide Network. She stomped over to Vincent, hurling his phone at him, which to her disappointment, he caught with ease. She yanked at the reins of her Chocobo, which warked in protest of her rough treatment. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Vincent raise an eyebrow at her brusque behavior. However, he chose to reserve his comments, a small smile playing on his lips instead. Wise of him, she thought. Leaping into the saddle, Shelke took off, leaving Vincent behind in a cloud of dust.

In a high-rise office hundreds of miles away, Reeve Tuesti received an urgent missive from the Chief of his Security Department concerning the breaching of the company’s firewall.

A Break from Geography

A/N: Trying different characters in an vignette. Hope it's nice. Geog's really heavy going. And yeah, none of this is mine. The characters, the storyline, and the quotes are all not mine.

~

"Categorization has sped since the improvements were announced, but there are many hurdles. The indexing of sentient species may have irreversible effects on the surviving insentient species. We will have extinction events and irreparable environmental harm on at least 18 worlds. Current projections estimate post-archival cataclysm on as many as 31 worlds. The paucity of sentience has been a blessing in this regard."

The costs are high, he thinks. They're always high. He and his race play a high-stakes game with the mind lurking in the darkness for the future of the universe. Just that while he's playing big and blind, his opponent can see every single card on the table. The odds are stacked against him. All he can do is hope that fate deals him a favourable hand. He stands on the flagship's bridge, waiting for the enemy's move.

~

"Would that it were my choice. I have committed to this course because it's the right thing to do. We no longer have the manpower or material to excise remedial measures at a planetary level. I certainly can't justify using the [transit measure] to save my own skin when there are still so many innocents to protect and index."

He looks down at her missive. He wishes he had her resolve. He wishes he could be as noble as she is. He wishes she was here with him. But she's refused every transport she's sent. He can't understand why she has to put herself in danger on planets so far away, when she can just as easily administrate the indexing efforts from the safety of their stronghold.

And the danger is growing. Despite the fleet's best efforts, they continue to be outmanuvered, outnumbered, outfought. Already, they've pulled back and left billions to the parasite. Billions more to swell the parasite's ranks. Billions more than stand between him and her. Already, she's nearly cut off.

But there's still a chance. The Maginot Sphere is the best defense the fleet's come up with yet, and Medicant Bias could turn the tide of the war. Medicant Bias could cripple the parasite where it hurts the most.

An ancient text recites, "Kill the head and the body will follow." Medicant Bias will do just that. He'd better. He's their only chance to save their way of life. Medicant Bias is the only chance to save her. She won't return otherwise.

~

In the depths of night, he lies awake, watching the stars high above him. The bed is cold and empty without her, and he yearns for her touch. It's been decades since he last held her in his arms. Decades since he's whispered his love in her ear.

He recalls their youth, the hours spent in the sun of worlds long burned to a cinder by the relentless enemy. The hours they used to spend in the sunlit flower fields, in the dappled light of forest clearings. He, a promising cadet in the best military academy civilisation had to offer, and she, a brilliant student in medical school.

Now, they're lovers separated by eons filled with supernova and dark matter, a gap too far for even the bridges of proverbial birds from Heaven to cover. He's the one shouldering the immense burden of the galaxy's defence, while she ensures the future of a million innocents at the expense of their own.

He should hate her for leaving him behind. Hate for for disobeying his direct order. No one disobeys him, even on the pain of death. There's thousands of willing, eligible women clamoring for the attention of the famous Didact, the much vaunted bastion of strength against the parasite. But he doesn't. It's her inner beauty that draws him, the same beauty that gives her the strength to resist his call.

In the end, he can't bear to forcibly remove her. He loves and respects her too much for that. It's her choice to make, and his lot to drown in the separation's sorrow.

~

"We have no time to spare, Didact. Every vessel we can fill, we send to the Ark. I dare not cease the mission. Not now, not until I've done all I can. Each one of these souls is finite and precious. And I'm so close. Close to saving them all."

Even now, she refuses him the comfort her usage of his real name would provide, choosing to address him by his title. Rationally, he knows what she's doing. She's distancing herself from him, trying not to distract him from his duties. But his heart and soul cry out across the spiral nebulae to her. He wishes she wouldn't hurt herself just to try to spare him some pain. It wouldn't work anyway.

She's close to saving them. But the parasite's even closer to victory.

And in all his years, even before he'd even known of her existence, he's never felt further away from her.

~

Bleh. Continue later.