Chrono Trigger: Twins of Destiny Chapter 5

Newly Enlisted

By Mox Jet

            Tristan was unable to get a visual image of where they had flown.  As they approached the image-shielding device that he had described to Jack, a few things happened.  First, the flight cabin lights went out and metal plates slid down over the cockpit windows.  Next, the plane went into slave-guidance, meaning it was driven from another location.  The ride became somewhat unsteady as the plane was pulled into wherever they were going.  That, and before they had passed the image shield, nothing could be seen of their location. 


            It was probably a military installation, more than likely the Headquarters of M-1, as M-1 supposedly wanted Tyrion’s capture.  That would be the only possible explanation of their location.  How Lyons or Kallar was involved was another story, and Tristan would have to play spy for just a little longer.  The problem was staying undetected.  Again, you can fool government for a period of time, but when you start causing major problems, no invisible agent can stay invisible forever.  Chances are, they were looking for him already, considering the show he put on in the airport.  The only thing he had left going for him was that they still didn’t know what he looked like, or at least, he hoped they didn’t. 


            Also, he could beat the Lyons Government for awhile, mostly due to his highly superior technology.  If Ithilmar needed to be evaded, however, there may be some problems.  If they really did use Lavoid Energy, his connection to it might be able to be detected, and that, to say the least, would be a bad thing.


            He wasn’t even sure if they had landed anywhere.  For all he knew, they could be in the air, on the ground in Denegrad, or even in Ithilmar.  What he did know was that the plane had come to a stop, and he would have to make himself scarce relatively soon.


            “Thanks a lot, pals,” he said to the pilots, sheathing his gun and waving his hand in the air.  “Don’t follow me now, ya’ hear?”  He quickly cast a short-range phase spell, disappearing from the cockpit and finding himself under the jet.  It was dark, but he could tell that they were in some kind of hanger.  Again, the question of where came to mind, but a little exploration had never hurt him in the past.


            The pilots responded as he would have predicted.  Jumping out of their seats and ignoring their freshly watered pants, they exploded through the cockpit door and into the cabin.


            “Intruders on the plane!” the both yelled in unison.  In the cabin, Kallar sat across from Tyrion, and there were a few other armed men wearing black uniforms and black berets. 


            “What?” Kallar said, rising from his seat.  “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?!”


            “He had a gun,” the pilot gibbered.  “He said he would shoot us.”


            “Fool!” Kallar yelled, rushing into the flight cabin to check for remains of the intruder, but finding none.


            “What did he look like?” Tyrion said, slowly rising from his seat as well.  “Did either of you get a good look at him?”


            “He had a trench-coat,” the copilot said.  “And…long blonde hair.  That’s all I remember.”


            “That’s all I needed to hear…” Tyrion mumbled.


            “Do you know who he is?” Kallar asked, turning to Tyrion.


            “No,” Tyrion said quietly.  “No, not at all.”  Kallar didn’t see it fit to waste time.  He whipped out a phone.


            “We’ve got a problem,” he said into the phone.  “There’s an intruder in the compound,” he said.  “Apprehend, but do not kill.  Suspect is male, long blonde hair, and a…” he turned to the copilot.  “What color was his trench-coat?”


            “Black,” the both said.  Kallar nodded.


            “He’s wearing a black trench-coat,” he said into the phone.  “I want to meet with him personally if you find him.  Again, apprehend, but do not kill.”  He hung up the phone bitterly, placing it back in his jacket pocket.


            “Now what?” Tyrion asked.


            “Now nothing,” Kallar said.  “He’ll be caught before long.  It’s not our job to worry about him until they find him.”


            “You’re not going to worry that he’s running around.”


            I’m not going to.  Someone else will.  That’s their job.  I’m just doing mine.  Now, follow me, and I’ll explain things a little more.”




            Tristan had very little time to do what he had to do.  The only actual way to secure his safety was to eliminate the existence of his persona as a threat.  Basically, the ‘intruder’ aspect of him had to disappear, and the easiest way to do something like this is take advantage of the fact that everything in a high tech society is computerized. 


            Computers are a wonderful thing.  People use them day in and day out to make their lives easier.  People like Tristan, on the other hand, use them day in and day out to make other people’s lives harder, and their own jobs easier.


            He had found hiding in a particularly lonely section of the hanger.  It was a little alcove which looked like no one every used, set about three feet into the wall.  The important part was that it was somewhere that he could broadcast his hacking signal from, and begin to wreak havoc on the compound he was somewhat imprisoned in for the moment.  It wasn’t that hard for one person to disappear…




            “We’re hiring you,” Kallar said to Tyrion as they walked down the hall.  They were accompanied by the same armed men that they were on the plane with as they made their way down a hall felt that as cold as the stainless steal walls that it was made up of.  Every hall they went down was absolutely straight, and every turn was a right angle.  It only increased the feelings of apathy towards the individual spirit that a military compound seems to propagate anyway.


            “What?” Tyrion asked.


            “M-1 is hiring you.”




            “Haven’t we been over this before?”


            “Yes.  But that doesn’t change the fact that it doesn’t make sense.”


            “We’re looking for people like you.  We’re aiming to increase our ranks.  Every military organization has to make up for natural casualties due to battle.  We work on a recruitment system only, though.”


            “And you found me how?”


            “We have our ways,” Kallar said.  “But it doesn’t make a difference.  At the moment, you’re going to meet the people you’ll be working with.”


            “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Tyrion said, halting his walk.  “I never remembered committing to anything.”


            “You will, though,” Kallar said coldly, not even looking at him.  “In fact, to yourself, you already have.  You feel that anger, that desire for revenge burning up inside you.  We’re giving you the means to an end, and you’ve already taken the offer.”


            “Don’t think I’m so transparent,” Tyrion said bitterly.  “You don’t know me well enough to make assumptions like that.”


            “You’d be surprised, Tyrion,” Kallar said.  “Now, do you wish to meet your partner.  I admit, she can be difficult to get on with at times, but there’s no one who you’d rather have watching your back.”


            “Get on with it,” Tyrion said with a sigh.  “I’m following you, now.”


            They continued down the hallway that they were in, passing through multiple automatic doors until they came into another hanger-like room.  It was about five stories high and the size of a football field.  The walls were the same stainless steal that the rest of the compound was made of, occasionally broken by a blinking red or green light.  There were no ships or planes in it, though.  The one most noticeable feature of the room was the series of racks that held hundreds of things Tyrion had never seen before.  They looked like robots that were the size of a man.  What he didn’t know, however, was that every single one of those shells was hallow, and could hold a man inside, making him a walking death machine. 


            Armours.  Hundreds of them.  Judging by the similar color pattern groupings, he guessed they were organized into their different units while stored.  He had never seen an Armour before, though he heard enough about them.  They didn’t allow the media to publicize battlefield action as it was a government censorship rule.  It was something about promoting violence amongst young people.  His attention, however, was quickly overcome by something new.


            “What the bloody hell is the matter with you?!!” came a scream that filled the entire hanger.  He didn’t know where it came from, but something told him that he didn’t want to find out.  Tyrion froze in his tracks, as did Kallar.  Kallar held his hand out, to further exemplify that they shouldn’t go any further.


            He gets to pilot it!  After all of this time!  You give it to him!?  I swear to God, you picked the wrong day to get on my bad side.”


            Tyrion looked at Kallar.  “Who is that?” he asked.


            “That…is your partner.”   


            “She sounds nasty,” Tyrion said.


            “Lina Esrevni,” Kallar said.  “She’s got a hair trigger temper, a bad attitude and gets way to much of a high from blowing things up.  But, she’s also one of the most powerful psychics in the world, let alone for her age.”


            “How old is she?”




            “And why is she so powerful?”


            “She has something called Tri-Psych.  More than you might suspect, people are born with psychic powers.  However, normally, it’s one of the three branches of this power.  Telekinesis, Telepathy or Telenthalpy.  Lina is a rare occurrence of all three abilities in the same person.”


            “So what does that mean she can do?” Tyrion asked.  Kallar walked forward a few steps.


            “It means that she can kick your ass up and down the street if you don’t watch out.  Now, follow me.  You two should be introduced.”  Tyrion shrugged and followed him as he walked through the hanger.


            “Lina!” he called as they walked around one of the Armour racks and came into view of a group of people gathered around one Armour that had been taken down from its storage location and was being examined.  Among them, a girl, no more than five foot two, turned around. 


            “Kallar?” the girl called.  “What the hell are you doing here?  Can’t you see I’m busy?”  She walked up to Agent Kallar and Tyrion.  It was here where Tyrion made a better first impression of the girl.  She walked almost rigidly upright, shoulders back, and head up.  Though, aside from a very military like gait, she didn’t look like a soldier.  She was short, skinny and would look even fragile if not for her style of walking.  Her arms were very slender and they looked like they could not handle lifting heavy objects, let alone being a dangerous member of a military unit.  She was wearing a skin tight jumpsuit of blue, gold and silver.  An equipment belt hung loosely from her waist.  The most noticeable features, though, was that she had long, blue hair and amethyst eyes, almost the exact shades as Tyrion’s.


            “This is Tyrion,” Kallar said.  “He’s your new partner.”


            “Haven’t we had this conversation before?” Lina said, somewhat sarcastically.  “I thought we decided I didn’t need a partner.”


            You decided that, Lina,” Kallar said.  “The Command didn’t agree.”  Lina walked up to them and halted in front of them.


            “I still think I don’t need him,” she said, looking him up and down.  “He looks like a chump.  And what’s with that hair?”


            “It’s the same color as-” Tyrion started to say, but she cut him off.


            “What, are you a Son of Geminus, or something?  Guys don’t have blue hair, and it’s not even a good dye job.”


            “Now look here!” Tyrion started to say.


            “He’ll slow me down,” Lina said to Kallar.  “Look at him.  He’s all hot and bothered already.”


            “You little-”


            “Enough!” Kallar yelled.  “Lina, I hate to say it, but you don’t have a choice in the matter.  Please keep this guy out of the infirmary, unlike the last one.”


            “The last what?!” Tyrion asked, turning to Kallar.


            “My last partner,” Lina said, cringing in memory.  “I believe he called me short and flat chested,” she said.  Then she grinned slightly.  “And I believe I gave him an internal hemorrhage.”


            “Kallar!” Tyrion said, turning to him.   


            “Oh hush,” Kallar said.  “You two will get along much better than that.  You’re both overly belligerent.  You should do well together.” 


            “What did you just call me?” Lina asked, raising her right fist.  Kallar sighed.


            “Exactly,” he said.  “Mrs. Overkill, meet Mr. Overkill.”


            “I don’t get it,” Tyrion said.  Kallar explained.


            “For example, she once let loose a psychic attack that wiped out an entire enemy encampment when we needed her to assassinate merely one person.  You, likewise, debilitate people even if your unsure what side they belong to.  To sum up, you both like solving problems by hitting things or blowing stuff up.  You’re going to be perfect with each other.”


            “I sense sarcasm in there,” Lina said with a smirk.


            “Anyway,” Kallar said, “I’m going to get on my way.  There will be someone else that will get you acquainted with the rest of the procedures here.  I, at the moment, have other things to attend to.”  Kallar turned away and walked down the hanger, exiting a door and going on to something more important.  Tyrion glanced at Lina.


            “What now?” he asked.


            “I’m…not really sure,” she admitted, seeming to have calmed down some.  “I’m still pissed at Kallar that he would enlist me a new partner without my approval.  No offense, but I kind of prefer the solo act.”


            “None taken.  I’m not much different.  Say…I’ve never met another person with blue hair,” he said, trying to make conversation.


            “You’re from Lyons, right?” she asked.  He nodded.  “I guess you don’t get out much.  All females of pure Ithilmarian decent have blue hair.  It’s a gene trait.”


            “You’re from Ithilmar?”


            “I was from Ithilmar.  We don’t talk about that anymore…get it?”


            “Whatever you say,” Tyrion said with a shrug.  He glanced past her.  “Which one of those is yours?” he said, pointing to the Armours.


            “Hmm…yeah, I guess I should explain all of that to you,” she said.  “Why don’t you just follow me.”  She walked ahead of him, not turning back to look at him, and he followed like he had been following Kallar up until this point.  She walked up to a group of people garbed in the uniform black clothing that was prevalent in this compound.


            “Is this Tyrion Mandrake?” one of the men stepped forward and asked.  Tyrion, surprised that he was already known, nodded.


            “That’s me.”


            “Excellent,” the man said.  “We were told you were coming.”




            “We have an Armour all prepared for you.”


            “For…me?” he asked.


            “Follow,” the man said, walking down the corridor formed by the Armour racks.  He stopped when he came to one particularly special one.  It was, like the rest of them, the size of a man.  It looked more slim than some of the others, colored in mostly black with streaks of gold and blue.  The small slit in the mask where the wearer looked out was dark red. 


            “What is this?” Tyrion said.  “You’ll have to excuse me.  I know practically nothing about these machines.”


            “This is-” the man started to say, but Lina cut him off.


            “This is Cyoren,” she said shortly.  “It’s the Armour that they’ve picked out for you.”  She turned to the man.  “And it’s a load of crap!” she said.  “He’s a newcomer and you give Cyoren to him?  He’s not even Ithilmarian!  He’s from friggin’ Lyons!”


            “I take it this is what you were yelling over before?” Tyrion said.


            “That’s right,” Lina said, crossing her arms and giving the man a dirty stare. 


            “Well, I don’t see why you can’t have it,” Tyrion said.  “I’m not particular.  Why is this one so interesting anyway?”


            “It’s top of the line,” Lina said.  “Right from our Ithilmarian suppliers. Why do you think M-1 has changed the course of the war so heavily?  We buy Armours off of a black market agent from an Ithilmar source.  Ithilmarian Armours are far superior to those of Lyons and Denegard.”


            “So why don’t you take it?” he asked Lina.


            “Because it’s your Armour, Tyrion,” the other man said. 


            “Well, then, if Lina wants it so bad, she can have it.”  I don’t want to get on this girl’s bad side.  She might eat me alive if I piss her off. 


            “It’s…not that simple,” the man said.  “We don’t know why they want you to use it either.  It’s an order directly from Command.”


            “Oh come on!” Lina pouted.  “Tyrion says I can have it, don’t ‘cha Tyrion?” she said in a suddenly charming voice.


            “I don’t see why not.”


            “Mr. Mandrake, it’s out of our hands.”


            You’ll give it to me later, then?, came a voice in Tyrion’s head.  He spun around quickly to see who might have been behind him, but there was no one there.


            I’m down here, you idiot, the voice said.  Abruptly, he looked down at Lina.  There you go, Lina’s voice said.  Telepathy, remember?  I know Kallar told you, that nosey piece of crap.  If you want to talk, just think what you would say and I’ll get it.


            Isn’t that illegal to invade someone’s mind?, Tyrion asked.


            It’s not like they could prove it, Lina said with a grin.  Anyway, we’ll talk about this later…and I didn’t appreciate that remark about me eating you.  A lady would never do such things.


            Geez, Tyrion though.  I really have to watch what I think…


            “Mr. Mandrake?” the man said, snapping him back to attention.  He just realized that he hadn’t been listening for the past few seconds.


            “Umm…yes, sorry.”


            “We can acquaint you with Cyoren tomorrow.  We’ll have someone show you to your quarters.”


            “…Sure,” Tyrion said with a shrug.


            “Lina, would you mind?” the man said.


            “Mind what?”


            “Show Tyrion to his quarters.  He’s in barracks 3-A”


            “What am I?  Some sort of servant now?”




            “All right, all right, I’m going,” she said in defeat.  “Come on,” she said to Tyrion.  Lemme show you where you’re staying to so I can get back to more important things.”


            “You know, I liked the more polite version of you that was trying to wrestle that Armour out from under me.  Maybe we can see that little girl again?”  Lina stopped walking and spun around.


            “Little girl?  Listen here, hot shot,” she said bitterly.  “If you don’t watch what-”


            “Okay, okay!” Tyrion interjected, waving his hands in the air.  “No ‘little girl’ from now on.  Okay, I promise.  Never again.”


            “Hmph,” Lina moaned, putting her hands on her hips.  “That’s a start.  Now lets go.  I‘ve got better things than lead you around like an ass.”  With that, Lina started off towards the entry way with Tyrion in tow, not even wating for him to catch up.




"Lina was an unusual one.  Quick to anger, hard to please, sarcastic and even childish at times.  It was almost as she herself wasn't ready to deal with all of the power that she had been given."  -Jack McKlane, on Lina Esrevni


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