Chrono Trigger: Twins of Destiny Chapter 2


By Mox Jet

            Tyrion didn’t go home that night.  His parents were both out of town for the next few weeks on business, so he had the house to himself, but something didn’t feel safe about it.  Typically, he would have crashed at Rachel’s place, but since she was out of town also, he found his way to another friend’s house.  He stayed here for a day or so, keeping silent about the entirety of Friday’s happenings, still trying to figure out what was going on, anyway.  He still didn’t know if he had done the right thing or who he should have gone with, hoping that things would settle down, but realizing that they probably wouldn’t.


            He didn’t want to go to the police because he honestly thought that they wouldn’t be able to do anything, anyway.  He didn’t know what was going on, and it was happening to him.  If this really was tied into the upper regions of the government, either Lyons or Denegrad, then he might be in a good deal of trouble.  What irked him more was why they were looking for him.  What did they need him for, and maybe more importantly, how long had they been watching him?


            They had said they were looking for people to fight against Denegrad, but why?  There was a draft.  Why didn’t that work?  Why did they need him?  Life had suddenly become much more confusing, and he was suddenly wishing he had just stayed home and done his homework that Friday.  Now, all that seemed available for him to do was wait for Rachel to come home.  She would help him calm down and feel better.  She always did…




Outside of Garden City


            Tristan looked at the limits of Garden City, which seemed to be built in the middle of nowhere.  It had been close to the salt flats he had landed on, and the whole city simply grew out of the dehydrated earth.  The white faced buildings in the center of the city, while small by Elosia standards, were relatively tall.  The city itself wasn’t that big, containing mostly small buildings and a series of suburbs.  The entire city itself was surrounded with a white wall that was about eight feet in height and you had to enter through a gate to get in.  It was a clear sign of a country that was at war.


            Typing into a small hand held computer, Tristan began reading aloud the information that he was receiving after quickly hacking into the Central Intelligence of the Lyon’s government.  And yes, it was that simple.


            “The countries of Lyons and Denegrad were caught in a near stalemate for a good ten years and fighting had been at a minimum,” he said out loud.  “Until the superior training and military tactics of the Denegrad military finally began to win out and it appeared as if Denegrad would pull through the twenty year war as the victor.”  He sighed and took a puff of the cigarette hanging out of his mouth, exhaling the smoke into the air.


            “It was three months ago, however, that they made contact with the M-1, a seemingly mysterious military organization offering their services in the war against Denegrad.  The M-1 were brilliant fighters and tacticians and began to swing the war in the favor of Lyons, though their motives remained unclear.”  Searching for information on battle tactics of this world, he found a minor subarticle, which he also read aloud.


            “Recently, with the technology available, infantry combat has been entirely replaced with the mechanic exoskeletons known as Armours.  Functionally turning each man into more of a tank, the Armours are body encasing suits of, oh what a surprise, armor, powered mostly by the energy given off by the wearer…how ingenious,” Tristan added as a side note.”


            “Armaments differ from Armour to Armour, and different types of infantry have been replaced with different types of Armour squads.  While the technological differences between the Armours of Lyons and Denegrad is apparent, both countries now fully utilize them.  It is, however, the Armours from Ithilmar that are most prized when one can be obtained.  Using technology that seems to far exceed that of the other nations and powered by a currently unknown source, the Ithilmar Armours are regarded by the Lyons military as works of art.  Most typically, each Armour will be different, as opposed to the mass produced ‘generic’ Armours of Lyons.  Each Armour is a distinct killing machine.”


            “Weaponry ranges from types that are built directly into the Armour itself, to the more common use of a gun or comparable weapons carried by the user.  With the added strength that the exoskeleton provides, more powerful arms can be carried by a single soldier.”


            “Well, those will be fun to deal with,” Tristan said, closing the hack link and putting the computer back in his coat pocket.  “Not to much unlike our own Powered Armour.  I’d be amazed if the technology rivaled ours, but maybe we’ll be able to pick up a few ideas.”  Sighing deeply, he looked back towards the hiding place he had picked for his ship before walking forward into the city.  No one would be able to actually find his drop ship, as he had activated a holographic protection field that prevented anyone from seeing it.  He didn’t really have reason to worry.


            Even though the walls that surrounded the city would have suggested otherwise, there wasn’t any form of security check when entering the city.  The entrance was a large building in the wall which he passed through with ease.  Passing through one long hallway, he eventually passed through a plastic white mesh gateway and into a Garden City suburb. 


            The movement and action of was reminiscent of any large trade city.  People drove around on the black and gray streets in car-type vehicles of varying colors (though mostly white) and varying sizes.  Tristan, using a map that he had uploaded into his computer, quickly located a hotel further into the city where he could stay while he looked for this person.  He managed to grab a cab while arranging the hotel’s computers to have had him on reservation, and rode the cab to his destination. 


            The hotel was, according to the electronic brochure, a luxurious place.  Not that price would be a problem, as Tristan could easily trick the hotel computer into thinking that he had paid, just as easy as he had tricked it into thinking that he had a reservation.  The hotel was located in an area where the suburbs were beginning to turn into the city.  It was a large white building with a red awning stretched over the driveway which Tristan was dropped off in front of.  Paying the cabby with some Lyons funds which he had exchanged his Dominion Credits for at the entrance to the city, he entered the hotel’s main room and promptly made himself comfortable on one of the many couches.


            Once again, he took out his palm held computer and reestablished a link with the electronic information network that existed in Lyons.  Returning to his hack of the Federal Intelligence Bureau, he began to look for any information the government might have on his target.  Naturally, blue haired people expressing emissions of Lavoid Energy aren’t missed by something like an Intelligence agency, albeit one that did not seem to have, as Tristan would put it, effective anti-hacker technology.  Thusly, it wasn’t surprising when Tristan’s Mystery Man happened to have a file with the FIB.


            A screen came up with a picture of a young man, not more than 18 years old, with dark amethyst eyes and darker blue hair.  Below the front and profile pictures was a readout of the man’s vital statistics


            “Tyrion Mandrake, huh?” Tristan said out loud.  “Now, what did you do to get a file in a Federal computer?”  Tristan scrolled down the window and continued to read out loud.  “Wanted for arrest on sight by Federal Intelligence Bureau?  Capture integral to the M-1 Ally Agreement?”  Tristan cocked his head sideways.  “What did this kid do and why are they after him?”  Unfortunately, though, nothing else was listed about Tyrion.  Either it was on a higher security level, or it was on a different computer network.  It wouldn’t be too hard to find, but Tristan decided to work with what he had for the moment.


            “He resides in Garden City at…” he checked the address.  “35 Kilmer Road.”  Tristan smiled.  “Well, lets go pay Mr. Mandrake a visit…”




Garden City Suberbs


Tyrion sprawled across the bed in a white room.  His eyes were closed tight in concentration, trying to calm down, as he recited the past days events.  Around him was the history of his life that he would care to remember.  Pictures of either him, or him and Rachel adornend the wall and a framed picture of him sat on the end table next to the bed he was on. 


Rachel herself was sitting on the bed, next to him, listening to the story.  Her dark brown hair cascaded down her shoulders, concealing her delicate back.  She looked at him worridly with light blue eyes, not yet knowing how to respond.  When he finally stopped, she laid down next to him.


Now, Rachel was an interesting person, mostly in the fact that she was so amazing that any person who ranked as her ‘boyfriend’ would probably even wonder how he ended up with her himself.  She was one of those people who, when they smiled at you, anything you were thinking about before didn’t matter any more.  Suddenly, the weight of your troubles was lifted off of you for one second while she met your stare, flashing her brilliant white teeth.  It was at that moment, if but only for a moment, that you feel as if you are the only person in the world that matters, because you had the attention of Rachel Gatsby. 


Her eyes had a defiant penetration in them.  They always seemed so soft, but it was always as if she was looking directly into your mind, trying to understand you as best as possibly.  To make everyone around her feel comfortable and feel as if they mattered was the goal of this girl.  Never hurtful and always kind, she didn’t have a mean bone in her body.  Smart, funny, beautiful, she seemed almost like the ideal woman, if of course, if there even was such a thing.  Tyrion certainly hadn’t found one before her, and he certainly didn’t intend to lose her after he had found her.


“They might still be after you,” she said.  “How can you even be sure that you’re safe?”  Out of instinct, she rubbed her left hand against the small charm that hung from the necklace she wore.  The necklace had been Tyrion’s once.  He had given it to her as a gift one day to mark his love for her. 


“I’m not,” Tyrion sighed.  “I just figured that I’d feel best if I was here with you.  I just hope I’m not getting to into whatever it is that I’m suddenly involved in.”


“Don’t say that…” she said.  “I’ll be with you no matter what.  I want to be by you.  Don’t just leave me alone out of fear that I might be in trouble.”


“I just wish I knew more about these guys…why are they after me?  And, why haven’t they come after me again, since then?”


“What do you mean?”


“It’s been almost a week since the first incident.  You figure that they know what town I’m in, let alone where my house is.  My question is, why haven’t they come back?”


“You don’t think that you scared them away, do you?”


“I doubt it,” he said.  “They were pretty serious.  I get the feeling they were testing me or something like that.”


“You said they claimed to work for the FIB,” Rachel confirmed.  “Do you think that they may not be from there?”


“They recognized my fighting style,” Tyrion said ponderously.  “I didn’t think it was that well known.  How much could the FIB know about that form of fighting.”


“And the second man.  He said that the agent in the limo was actually from Denegrad.  Do you think he may be telling the truth?”


“I guess I could have gone with him…” Tyrion muttered.  “It just didn’t feel right, though.  It all seemed too…orchestrated.  I’m not sure, to be honest.  I mean, assuming I’ve done something to stir interest, which I think may be linked to my fighting, at this point, would it be that odd if the FIB were trying to protect me?”


“You think they want to take you in as some kind of living weapon?” Rachel said, somewhat appaled. 


“I don’t know about that.  That sounds terrible.  They said they needed me to ‘fight against Denegrad,’ though.”


“It doesn’t sound like a draft notice, or anything like that,” Rachel said.  “This sounds more like a special invitation.”


“And how do they know about me, anyway?” he wondered out loud. 


“I wish I could help you, Ty,” she said.  “This seems out of anyone’s control.”


“You could always just wait to see what happens.  It doesn’t sound like this is over,” she said.  “You can bet that something still is going to happen involving this.”  There was a short pause.


“I think I’m actually scared,” Tyrion finally admitted.  “It’s like I haven’t had anything in my life to be scared of, up until this point.  I mean, when those guys came after me…it was totally out of the blue.  It was just supposed to be another party.  Just another excuse to go out and laugh at the people that go and get drunk.  It was even shaping up nicely when I got to mess up that jerk who wanted to pick a fight with a kid half his size.  But, then…”  He closed his eyes again.  “I just want to know what I did to deserve this.”


            Rachel made a hushing noise and slowly stroked at his hair.  “Worrying about it isn’t going to accomplish anything,” she said softly.  “Just try to concentrate on other things.”  Tyrion smiled.


            “I also want to know what I did to deserve you,” he said.  “Because I think I’m really quite undeserving.”  She leaned over and quickly kissed him.


            “Nonsense,” she said, sitting up on the bed.  “Now quit it with that whole self-bashing thing.  It’s a real turn off, Ty,” she joked with a smile.


            “I have to go,” he finally said, getting up.  “I have a paper to write by tomorrow on Alternate Energy Sources, for science class.  I’m going to be in trouble if I don’t get going soon.”


            “Oh, so it might hurt your poor little 98 GPA?” she asked, somewhat sarcastically.  Tyrion grinned back.


            “Hey, whatever gets my mind off of it, right?”  She nodded in agreement.


            “Come over later?” she asked.


            “You bet,” he said.  He leaned over and kissed her again before grabbing his bag off the chair it had been thrown over and leaving the room.  The door closed shut behind him.


            “Tyrion…” Rachel said.  “I worry about you…”  Worriedly, she clutched the necklace in her hands, rubbing the red stone that was set into it.




Garden City


            Patting his stomach vigorously, Tristan sighed happily.  The food here was good, that was for sure.  He wasn’t to sure what exactly it was that he had just eaten, but it sure as hell was tasty.  He looked casually at his watch, seeing that it was nearly 7:00, and he still hadn’t eaten dessert yet.  Still, tomorrow was Saturday, and that would probably be the best day to find Tyrion Mandrake.  People let their guards down on Saturday.  It was a proven fact. 


            He promptly ordered a cup of coffee and a slice of cheese cake.  He went back into his research of this planet and it’s history, as it would all be required.  The LEA took its information network as an extremely important aspect of its society.  When the Adepts of the Weatherlight eventually did make Planetfall to deal with the Lavoid and the ever increasing situation with the Potential Planeswalker, any information they could get would be useful.


            It was this Empire known as Ithilmar that seemed to catch his attention, but unfortunately, there was very little information about it on the Lyons Information Network.  It was highly possible that this mysterious country had its own network but until he had access to it, what information he had would need to do.  Again, unfortunately, even the mention of it on his currently accessible information database didn’t have much.  Whatever there was about Ithilmar, they certainly didn’t want the people in Lyons to know about it.


            What he was able to gather, was some geographic information about the Empire.  It’s cities weren’t located on the Lyons/Denegrad continent.  Indeed, their collection of city-states seemed to spread the entire world.  It existed as a series of aerial cities, hovering at various altitudes, but most often above cloud cover.  Functionally, they had separated themselves from the people of Lyons and Denegrad, though reasons for this remained unclear. 


            How they interacted in the war between the two other nations is also something which intrigued Tristan.  It just seemed that such a country, whose technological advancement outstrips the other two, would simply stay out of the war.  But what was there to gain, if anything, but interfering?  Could it be possible that they were just smart diplomats and decided to stay out of the business of other countries?  That certainly didn’t sound right.


            The other thing is that he was positive that they were manipulating Lavoid Energy.  Again, the going trend was apparent.  Perhaps the LEA should look into just exactly why Lavoid Empowered empires like to place their cities in the sky.  Jack said it probably had to do with the general superciliousness that comes with being associated to a Lavoid.  Maybe they just had to show their hauteur in a manner that really did put them above everyone else.


            “So tomorrow, I’ll meet you, Tyrion,” Tristan said, taking a sip of the black coffee in front of him.  For some reason, he had taken a liking to drinking his coffee black over the course of the last two years.  He had never drank it this way before, but for some reason, it just seemed the only logical way to do it now.


            When his cake came, he quickly forgot about Tyrion and the LEA, once again finding that the food on this planet certainly was good, and was quite useful in forgetting why one was somewhere to begin with.




Location Unknown…


            The dim lights in the situation room for the mercenary group M-1 set the mood for this meeting.  Black painted walls and a black marble table, surrounded by black chairs and high ranking M-1 officers dressed in black.  On the far wall, a video screen displayed the country of Lyons, outlined in green, with a few small flashing red marks centered around the location of Garden City.  There was a light hum in the air, not caused by anyone in the room, but simply the generic hum of that could be found anywhere in this particular installation.  It sounded almost like an engine, but to distant to be properly identified.


            The black clad, stern faced men that sat around the table, waiting silently and patiently for the leader of the meeting, sat around the table.  The leader of the meeting, his shoulders adorned with ribbons and braids marking battle commemorations, was a large man, roughly six foot four, with broad shoulders and a heavily scarred face.  The black beret which he wore mirrored those worn by the rest of the gathering, save for a small emblem on the front which further signified rank.


            “Gentlemen,” he finally began, slowly rising from his seat.  His speaking voice was a gruff baritone.  His voice sounded sore from wear.  “You know why we are here.”  There was general concession from around the table. 


            “We have finally located one of Jira’s sons,” he went on.  “His location has been confirmed in Garden City.  His energy signature has been picked up in the locations marked in red.”


            “So after all this time, he finally began to radiate the Lavoid Energy,” one of the men from the far end mused.  “Do we know what caused the delay?”


            “Simple maturation,” came another voice.  “He simply wasn’t projecting it up until this point.  That, and his witch of a mother made sure we wouldn’t be able to find him right away.”


            “We don’t know how she did it, though,” a familiar voice said.  Near to the commander, the form of one Agent Kallar ran a hand through his hair, removing his beret as he did.  “We’ve been looking into it, but at this point, it doesn’t matter much any more.”


            “You saw the readings, Kallar,” the commander said.  “Would you state your report.”


            “Surely,” Kallar said, rising from his chair.  “We are quite sure that he has begun to manifest his energy, at this point.  The readings he gave off when he out ran my car were incredible.  We’re not even sure that Jira herself gives off that much.  We have yet to measure her power, though, as you know how she gets…”


            “What about in comparison to…Him,” another voice said.


            “You know we don’t have a full measurement of His power.  We expect it to be lower, of course.  If it isn’t, the whole planet may be in trouble.”


            “And what of his brother?” the commander said.  “How would the power have been distributed?”


            “We will have to capture both of them and perform some…experiments…before being able to tell that, sir.”  Kallar replaced his beret and sat down again.  “The Energy readings were ridiculously high.  He out ran a car, mind you.  We think…”


            “Chaos manipulation?” someone asked.


            “Maybe not yet.  Certainly it was a conscious manifestation of his Lavoid Energy.  Still, if he does begin to show Chaos manipulation…”


            “What about other forms of energy?  The Winds or Outer-Plane sources?”


            “No magic projection, at the moment,” a new voice said.  “We’ve looked into it.”


            “He trains in Nisai Ryu, though,” Kallar corrected.


            “Of course.  We all understood that already.  Didn’t it go without saying?”


            “Still,” Kallar said.  “That means even if he doesn’t practice it frequently, Lifestream Projection is a definite.  He may not use it, or at least, he hasn’t recently, but you can bet anything that he’s proficient in it.”


            “We’re aware,” the commander said.  “But technically it doesn’t count as magic.”


            “That still doesn’t remove it’s destructive power,” an older voice said.  “We’ve seen what it can do in the past.”


            “Still, we should worry more if he starts Chaos Manipulation,” the commander said.  “That takes priority.”  There was a pause, followed by some murmuring amongst the room.


            “So how do we acquire him?” the second voice said. 


            “It’s not that hard,” Kallar said.  “Though Agent Hai informs me that he hits very hard.  Finding him is easy at this point.  It’s actually capturing him that is hard.


            “How is Hai?” the commander asked.


            “Broken jaw and nose.  He’s not sure how it happened, as he swears he was only punched in the face once.  Maybe the boy was so fast that he couldn’t even tell the difference between the two attacks.  They say that will heal, for the most part.  His genitals…that’s another story.”  Every man in the room cringed.


            “Care must be taken,” the commander grimaced.  “Unless we want to deploy everything we have for this one boy, certain measures must be taken.”


            “Perhaps different means of motivations should be pursued?” Kallar suggested.  “Just offering a spot in the military obviously didn’t entice him.  Additionally, we have him on guard now.”


            “He thinks you work for Lyons?” the commander said.


            “I’m not sure what he thinks.  The idea was that Hai informed him that I was Denegrad.  We were supposed to entrap him like that.  It doesn’t seem so clear anymore.”


            “Perhaps we should keep the Lyons cover at the moment.  We just need to give him a reason to come to us.”


            “Do you have a plan?” Kallar asked the commander.


            “I always have a plan, Agent Kallar,” the commander said.  “That’s how you get ahead in life.” 




"Tyrion himself didn't know the truth until the end, but by then, fate had already been sealed," -Jack McKlane, from "A Summary of the Celes Incident"


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