Rygdea Audition

Rygdea could have busted out in laughter when he’d first taken the report. The words creeping across the screen of his datapad had been simple and to the point: We need help with a woman with a lance in the Alexandrian District. Send backup. If it wasn’t bad enough that two grown men – two grown patrolmen, for crying out loud – had needed to ask for help handling a woman all on her lonesome, the fact that they’d sent the missive as a general request for aid managed to really lead to them deserving every single ounce of hazing they were more than likely going to get from their peers when they got back to their station.

No doubt that the two patrolmen were dealing with some woman out there, though, if Rygdea wasn’t getting his hopes up a little too much when he read the report and agreed to fly his way down to the right district with a couple of his troops. Alright, so he knew Hope had managed to nab Fang and Vanille’s crystals from the pillar just before Cocoon had turned into a pile of crystal debris north of the Archylte Steppe. He didn’t have one clue about Hope’s plans to get the two of them out of their crystalstasis, though. All that science-y stuff was not Rygdea’s department, and with the world half-turned to hell and PSICOM acting a bunch of pouty kindergartners about Hope’s arrival, obviously the military had their hands full, Rygdea holding on to maybe the fullest hands of them all lately. He barely had time to get both legs in his armored pants most mornings. But hell if Rygdea didn’t think that this “woman with a lance” sounded a whole lot like a certain tanned, lithe, wild, raven-haired Gran Pulsian huntress (as she’d often reminded him) that he’d once had the pleasure of hunting l’Cie with as a slightly younger – okay, much younger, though he didn’t feel it – Cavalry lieutenant. Damn if it wouldn’t be good to see a woman like Fang again after all these years.

And Etro, rest her soul if she had one, knew that his guess as to why Fang might want to rip the Alexandrian District half to hell, considering what she thought of Cocoonian cities.

Rygdea had bothered to fly himself and his men out to the district with one of the squad shuttles, and as he made a beautiful act of slowing the ship and angling it in for the landing pad in the middle of the district, where the woman was supposedly causing all sorts of problems, he couldn’t help but let his face tear into a grin again, unable to let a few memories of the old times, like Bresha and Palumpolum, fill his mind. Once the ship had been set down, he retained an amused expression on his face as he nabbed his rifle from behind his seat and swung around to join with his pair of soldiers, one a man nearly Rygdea’s own age with a close-trimmed head of early, graying hair and a young woman with her dark hair up in a tight bun that prematurely aged her. Rygdea gave them both a rather sarcastic wink of his eye as he stepped past to lead the way onto the street. ”I guess we finally get ta see if Pulse’s really got no fury like a woman scorned,” he told the both of them, earning a roll of the eyes from one and a hearty chuckle from the other before he pushed open the door and dropped onto the pavement, rubbing at the back of his head.

Picking out the right street, Rygdea turned and motioned his head for the other two to follow him, leading the way down the street towards their destination. Man, would it be nice to round that next corner and be greeted with that lovely sight he’d once come across ready to cut him down at Euride Gorge.

*Gran Pulse < Fang's correction ;D

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