Chapter renovated 10/21/2013
Dual Trigger
-By Chronic Guardian-
Chapter 1: Coesistenza
Machines do not feel, think, or otherwise take initiative unless specifically programmed to do so. Some say that human beings are not so different from that. The call of our heart, the process of our mind, can it all truly be boiled down to a preset conditioning? So long as the variables can be foreseen, so may the actions of the individual. The easiest way to simplify a formula is to isolate variables by transferring some variables into controls. If we could change variables of the human disposition into controls, the most effective of agents could conceivably be bred. The answer to this riddle seems to lie within the merging of many technologies, chiefly cybernetics and magitek. Time willing, I shall see my dreams fulfilled.
-Research Journal of Cid Marquis Del Norte, 1994
}§{
~Ospedale Spirito Santo, Pescaro, Italy, 2004
"So what do you think?" Jean Croce asked quietly, patiently waiting as the Israeli man's eyes flicked between the girl in the hospital bed and the file on the clipboard.
"She's got it rough," the man grunted, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "Not so sure bringing her into this sorta life is gonna make it any better."
"Comfort is not a concern as much as functionality; do you think you'll be able to work with her?"
"…She's got spunk at least. Living through that?"
"A trait you share in common. I hear you haven't had it so easy yourself."
The Israeli smiled wearily, "You can say that again, mister. Guess that's what brought me into this mess in the first place."
Jean nodded, "Right. They tell me you're looking for your son."
The other man grunted in reply and shook his head. "Darn kid can't take care of himself on his own out there."
"Unless you put that aside for the moment, we cannot offer you a position as a fratello."
"And unless I've got that I've got no way of searching for my boy, is that it?" The man fixed his crimson eyes on Jean's, "you sure know how to hit a guy while he's down, huh?"
Jean ignored the insult. His days with the Carabiniere added unto his own convictions had given him a superbly thick skin to such remarks."So we can count on your cooperation?" he pressed.
"Got no better way," the Israeli admitted, looking away and running a hand through his unruly black hair. "As soon as my boy's safe though, I can't guarantee I'll be all you want me to be."
"That's quite all right, your devoted services for now will be sufficient." The Agency didn't take on "part-time" positions, but Jean had no doubt this man would be able to tough out the three year term on his contract with little difficulty. It was a bit of a gamble, but something told him the search for the boy would take longer than expected.
"… Okay, you got yourself a deal, mister."
"Good. Shall we then?"
The man took one last look over his shoulder at the girl sleeping in fluorescent light. Whether it was out of pity or longing for his own progeny, Jean couldn't tell.
"Oh, and your first task as a fratello: you've got to give her a name."
The Israeli paused and closed his eyes for a moment. "...Breska?"
"Sounds as good as any to me. Welcome to the team, Jecht."
The man, Jecht, nodded slowly, "Thanks, can't wait to get started."
}§{
~SWA Campus near Rome, Italy, 2004
Rico, the girl assigned to Jean Croce's care and tutelage, sat on the edge of the bottom bunk in her dorm room. Her short blonde hair was still unbrushed from the night's sleep as she worked her small hands with a rag over various components of a Czechoslokian CZ-75 handgun. Whatever she wasn't working with was neatly arranged on the covers beside her.
"There have been a lot of new arrivals lately," she commented, staring out the window as she cleaned the gun's barrel. "Don't you think so, Henrietta?"
Her roommate remained at the room's table, looking over something her handler had gotten her recently. The girl's reply came absently. "I guess so. Have you talked to any of them?"
"The one who's a little younger than Triela," Rico confirmed, inspecting the inside of the barrel. "She doesn't talk much yet, but she's got a nice handler."
"Did Jean tell you that?"
"No, Jean told me he was a lost cause."
Henrietta looked up from whatever she was studying and fixed Rico with curious eyes. "Is he?"
"I don't know." Rico didn't make judgements like that. Usually she just trusted in whatever Jean told her, partially because the conditioning compelled her to. "He seems to really know what he's doing when it comes to guns." She added. The man's initial scores on the training range had been enough to raise even Jean's eyebrows, if only slightly.
"I guess that's all that matters," Henrietta said, getting back to her charts.
Rico smiled and continued to clean. "Yeah, I guess so."
}§{
Not too far away, the very same man was observing a training exercise.
"It's looking pretty cloudy," he murmured. Given his companion's stoic silence the comment might as well have been to himself. "You suppose we should pack up for the day?"
The other man stared on, observing the efforts of the girl practicing at the range with unflinching attention. "Terra has an adequate immune system, and rain may be one of the conditions we must operate in," he said, his thick black mustache bobbing with his words.
"Harsh. But I can't really tell you how to train when you've been here so long," the younger man sighed. "What did you say your name was?"
The senior agent's eyes remained on the girl. "Cyan, Cyan Garamonde."
"Great, and I'm Laguna Loire," the younger man introduced himself with a smile. "Me and Quistis are sort of new around here. But I hear you joined around the time of the Croce brothers."
Cyan ignored the handshake offered and continued monitoring his charge. "That is correct, Mr. Loire."
"I also hear I'm not the only new guy on the block," Laguna prompted, refusing to let his coworker's abruptness overshadow the conversation.
"Again correct," Cyan answered, showing no discernible change in attitude. "You, Quistis, and the Vincent-Aria and Jecht-Breska fratellos are all recent inductions due to the increase in threats posed against our efforts."
"I'm not from around these parts, care to clue me in?"
Cyan's mustache twitched, but he entertained the request anyway. "In addition to the Republican Faction terrorists, we also face a group calling themselves the 'Omega Faction'," he began, only a slight shift in his voice. "In order to keep both these threats in check, the agency has enlisted your help." Cyan finally spared a glance in Laguna's direction, "they tell me you eliminated a group that was about to be intercepted by our section one. What drove you to this life, Mr. Loire?"
"They took someone important to me, I can't lose her to them," Laguna answered simply. For a man like himself, it was reason enough to spring to action.
"A rather short term goal for joining the Agency, don't you think?"
Laguna shrugged. "Jean said my short term loyalty should be enough."
"The three year contract?"
"No, the 'find my target and part ways on mutually good terms' contract." Or at least, that was how he'd understood the agreement. He was quickly acquiring the feeling that he should have read the fine print a little more closely.
Cyan sighed, the first openly exasperated gesture he'd indulged in since the beginning of the talk. "You are aware of the Agency's early retirement plans, yes?"
Laguna shook his head. In the past, particularly the recent past, he hadn't taken the time to let the future catch up to him. Planning, as it seemed, generally just wasn't his thing; much less the specific category of planning for retirement.
"The most common one is referred to by some as 'the pine-wood hotel' or 'six-feet under'," Cyan continued. "If they can trust you to keep your mouth shut they might be a tad more generous."
"Ah..." Laguna acknowledged. That made things a little more difficult. "Is that why you've hung around so long?"
"I've got a job to do, Mr. Loire." the older gentleman replied. "Besides, a cyborg without a handler is an awfully lonesome existence."
And there was always that too. The girls they'd all been assigned, the cyberneticly enhanced child assassins. Breifly, Laguna wondered what their retirement plan was. Probably being assigned to another handler. "Quistis is a bright girl, I think she'll be alright."
"Do not be so certain, Mr. Loire, the conditioning process is an odd thing," Cyan cautioned him firmly.
"...Why do you do that?" Laguna asked, moving a little to the side to try to get more of a full on view of Cyan's Face.
"Give you warnings? I'm trying to prevent mistakes."
"No, call me by my last name. All the handlers I've run into are on a first name basis." Admittedly, he'd run into very few other handlers so far, but he was still curious as to what the distinction was.
"Just like our girls, I think you'll find that no two handlers operate exactly the same, Mr. Loire"
"Like how some gloss over the actual explanation to the question?"
Cyan sighed. "You will have to retain your curiosity, Mr. Loire. Perhaps you shall come to the answer on your own with time."
"If you say so," Laguna shrugged, finally giving it up. "At any rate, I've got to go do some training with Quistis. Can't just leave her to hang out with the other girls all day long. That wouldn't sit very well with the higher ups, huh?"
"No, I suppose it would not."
Laguna thought he detected a slight smile on the man's mostly hidden mouth, but it could've just as easily been a trick of the light. Even so, it seemed like he'd at least gotten somewhere with the exchange. Life at the Social Welfare Agency was not quite what he had expected it to be, but he had served in the army in his youth and was somewhat used to operating in a military setting. Operating in a military setting with young girls, though, was completely beyond his experience.
It was not that he disliked children, far from it actually, but treating them as equally capable adults felt so wrong on a number of levels. If only in theory, it was his station to protect them, not the other way around.
Heaving a sigh of his own, Laguna looked towards the darkening clouds and continued his long walk back from the range. Maybe it would take longer than he'd expected, and maybe it would cost him more too; but he couldn't return home empty handed. He couldn't let the circumstances make him lose sight of his goal, of finding Ellone. The stakes had risen, but they weren't steep enough to make him quit yet.
He'd promised he'd bring her back. And to Laguna Loire, a promise like that was one to keep.
Especially when the one he'd promised it to was his wife.
}§{
The room was mostly empty, but if that was what it took to please Elsa, then she did not mind too much. In the time that she had known the girl, Terra had come to assume that one of the best strategies for dealing with her roommate was to simply stand aside and take the path of least resistance.
Elsa de Sica, the other girl that inhabited the room, had her eyes on one goal: being praised by her handler. Everything else, all other needs, became secondary when faced with this one ambition. It wasn't that it was an uncommon goal, every one of the girls felt similar when it came to their handlers, but no one had quite the rotten luck of being stuck with a handler like Lauro.
In most cases, conditioning prevented cyborgs from resenting any handlers, not just their own. In Terra's unique mind, Lauro was an exception. The doctors had said it was a malfunction due to the magitek infusion rejecting certain parts of the conditioning. Whatever the reason, Terra hated and pitied Lauro. He was distant from love, and to many of the cyborgs love was the only human part of them left.
"Move, Terra." Elsa's worn monotone caught her off guard.
Quickly stepping out of the doorway, Terra stowed her gear against the doorjamb and turned around to face her roommate. "Sorry, Elsa, I didn't think you would be back so soon."
The other girl pushed past her, long blonde braids trailing behind. "We finished early."
"That's great! You must have performed well then."
"…"
Terra's smile faltered. Talking to others did not come naturally to Elsa. There had been an uncomfortable month and a half during which conversation had been nearly nonexistent within their room when Elsa had first moved in. Little by little though, Elsa had begun to tolerate Terra and offer her more than two words on occasion. This had led Terra to understand Elsa's silence just as much as her words.
Lauro had not praised her.
"Do you… want to head down to the cafeteria for some dinner?" Terra suggested tentatively. It was a risky statement given the situation. Elsa never really lost her temper, but she was prone to cold anger when annoyed. In the past, Terra had endured many instances of animosity from her roommate thanks to saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.
Elsa blinked slowly. "You're right. Malnourishment won't contribute very well to tomorrow's training."
Terra let go of a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and waited as Elsa placed her gun case underneath the bed and joined her on the way out.
The hallways were nice and empty that evening as they walked to the campus mess hall. Terra liked it that way, it made talking just a little easier. When the adults were around, Elsa tended to become withdrawn and brooding. When the other cyborgs were around, she was even worse. But when it was just her and Terra, conversation was occasionally possible.
"What does Lauro want?" Terra murmured idly. She half expected Elsa to just glare at her for questioning the man.
"...I don't know," Elsa replied wearily.
Terra had to sympathize with the statement; to her it seemed that the man had little interest in his work, including the girl who served him without question or complaint. As far as she could see, there was no way for Elsa to please the aloof handler. If she told this to the Elsa though, it would probably mean the end of their fragile working relationship. Elsa had little enough room for criticism.
"Maybe Cyan can ask him for you," Terra offered helpfully. "I think that might work." Lauro did tend to respond better to the other adults than the cyborgs.
Elsa shook her head, "No… the only skill I have is with a gun. If I can't do it with that, I don't think there's a way."
"… Elsa, please don't give up."
For one frightening instant, Elsa shifted her intense gaze to meet Terra's concern. The other girl flinched but held constant as her roommate softened and turned away once more.
"Okay, Terra."
Terra almost choked on the sincerity she was so unaccustomed to hearing. Elsa usually tried to either brush her off or belittle her into submission. For one of the first times in their half year of sharing a room, it felt like Elsa was finally allowing herself to be vulnerable to Terra. The instance was shocking as much as anything else.
Regaining her composure, Terra smiled hopefully and continued with Elsa to the dining hall.
The silence that persisted through dinner no longer bothered her.
}§{
~Author's Note:~
Coesistenza: Italian for Coexistence.
Front Cover illustration characters from left to right: Vincent Valentine, Aria, and Professor Gast Faremis.
Concerning this story: think of it like Dissidia in the Gunslinger Girl universe. I don't mean we'll be running into Chaos or Cosmos or crystals or any of that, I mean that various Final Fantasy characters will be adapted and inserted into the story. Example: Cid Marquis del Norte of Final Fantasy VI. As of now there are absolutely NO OCs planned due to the rather expansive pool of Final Fantasy Characters to draw from.
There won't be magic, magitek refers to something else in this case. Because this is the Gunslinger Girl universe the fantasy elements will be greatly restrained (although I cannot promise as much for the philosophical ones).
Elsa admittedly would not be talking to others as we saw her in the anime but because she has had to live in the same room with Terra for a while her walls have softened a little. For more background, check out the upcoming Condizionata Complementare, which contains the story of Terra's induction into the Agency and, subsequently at a later date, how she and Elsa first met.
Research Notes:
CZ-75: A Czechoslovakian pistol that has spawned many "clones". It is valued for its durability and versatility. Although it is commonly used for sport shooting, it also is acknowledged as a rather effective combat model. The CZ-75 is Rico's side arm of choice.