Author's Note: Hello all! Please read, this is important. This is the first chapter of the new fic I've had planned. However, it is a beta chapter, which means that I have posted it solely for review and it should be considered a one-shot at the moment. I guarantee later chapters will be posted, and if you are interested, please subscribe, but they will come in future weeks as time permits. Updates for this will have comparitively more time between them, as the chapters are, by my standards, longer than usual. For now, please enjoy!
Sanctum's Glory
Ours was the height of honor and pride in Cocoon. We ruled for many millennia with a fearless fist. These are our chronicles of the final few days before the fall.
Prologue : Chapter 1 : On the Other Side
:: 05.31.3075 ; 6:08 A.M.
There has never been a better day to be an officer of the Sanctum. Peace has reigned and been as sure as the light of the Fal'Cie Phoenix for countless years now. We are granted prosperity and luxuries because of their daily benevolence; of that, I am thankful. The people of Cocoon are undoubtedly grateful of their protectors, and we have given them naught reason to believe we fall short of the same standard. ::
Lieutenant Colonel Yaag Rosch paused momentarily to sift through the plethora of words that begged to be recorded onto his datalog. Long nights left him groggy upon first waking. For such a serious and decorated man of prestige, he held a certain fondness for poetry, a guilty indulgence that he engaged in only when he was alone. When his mind wandered and threatened to spill an excess of observational drabble that he was not certain he could remember, he never failed to channel it instead into his heavily encrypted and self-destruction rigged journal, tucked inconspicuously among his many other guarded possessions. They were rigged to blow up as well, and every man and woman under his command was made aware of that.
An old habit from the training academy that gave me an excuse to use this datalog far more frequently than is healthy for me.
Recomposed, he continued tapping away at the holographic keyboard.
:: Today we are assigned a basic scouting mission. Feeling that the citizens are in need of an impressive show of military might to give them something to cheer about, the Sanctum has ordered a sizable portion of the PSICOM aerial fleet to dispatch and slowly sweep across the lands, city by city. They are confident the Guardian Corps. stationed here in Eden, the so called Home-Guard, or GC-CGD, are capable of maintaining the uncontested peace. I do not disagree- however, they are woefully ill-equipped for any incident larger than a civilian riot. Nonetheless, I will trust the judgement of Primarch Dysley, and to a lesser extent, Fal'Cie Eden, who have both approved the movement. The Primarch himself is making arrangements to begin a much needed tour. We act as the precursors to his arrival, and there shall be no mistakes. ::
The Colonel stretched briefly to shake away the stiffness that was creeping into his body. It was still early in the morning, and he needed breakfast. Deciding that mentioning the role his competitive counterpart officer played in this mission was not important, Rosch turned off the datalog and filed it into a cabinet.
The light of Phoenix trickled from the sky through the giant windows of his bedroom; it was gentle, at first, to give Cocoon some time to adjust. It would soon be intensifying from a deep purple to a glowing orange, and finally paint the sky in an ethereal blue.
Right on schedule, as always.
Most of Colonel Rosch's adult life consisted of schedules. Waking up and eating was no exception. He had disliked it at first, when he was still young and ambitious, but that enthusiasm had long since hardened and been replaced with a steely edge. He had become like his instructors: a leader of the military that lived and breathed authority.
Three quick beeps on his comlink alerted Rosch to an incoming call as he briskly strode down the hall to an elevator. His secretaries were precise in their timing.
"Rosch here. Speak to me." His tone never changed, no matter the time of day. It was like he never slept.
"Good morning, sir." Of course, he was willing to make an exception for one person in particular. "You are expected at a meeting today for 8:30 at the Sanctum Hall. It consists of a quick review of the operation's stages and a speech by the Primarch before we're sent off."
"Thank you, Lucille."
"Shall I arrange for your breakfast to be delivered there in advance, sir?"
"No, that will not be necessary. I think I'll be eating casually today. Is that all?" He almost betrayed a hint of humor.
"No, sir. You have a personal message. Shall I read it to you?"
"Is it from Colonel Nabaat?"
"Yes, sir." Rosch silently grimaced, partly wishing he could ignore it.
"Relay."
I am not going to enjoy this.
"It says 'Good luck on the mission, Rosch. I look forward to overseeing your division. See you at-'"
"Thank you, Lucille, I've heard enough. You can trash the rest." Years of biting back snark comments gave Rosch the ability to keep his tone even. The last thing he wanted was to lose his temper over a message.
"Very well, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"No, that will be all. Dismissed."
The connection was cut.
Lucille was something of a young student to him. She was full of energy and eager to please, and Rosch held a certain fondness towards the woman that reminded him of himself. He wasn't even that much older than her.
He summoned an elevator with a press, and within moments was descending the ornate columns of metal and glass that decorated the PSICOM living quarters for senior officials.
Today is going to be a long day.
Organic eggs, servings of fruit, slices of ham, and some toast; compliments of Carbuncle. Eating was occasionally paltry; just another task he had to attend to every now and again. Today was not a day to be delecting in flavors.
Cocoon was almost in full swing now. Phoenix was chugging along with its subordinate Fal'Cie to orchestrate another bout of pleasant and mild weather. Not too hot with a sporadic cool breeze. Airships were whizzing above the buildings of Eden, carrying citizens and officials alike to the beginning of their shifts. Rosch was one of them.
He stepped into a sleek corsair flanked by two gunships and waved for takeoff. The panels slid shut behind him and the craft lifted quietly.
Before Rosch could settle in and admire the cityscape, a holograph projected itself in front of him.
Honestly, the Sanctum is downright conversational today.
"Lieutenant Colonel Rosch."
Rosch's eyes widened.
"Primarch Dysley, sir? I wasn't expecting-"
"You may settle yourself, this is merely a pre-recorded message."
Rosch scowled at his embarrassing outburst.
"I requested that it be played to all governing military and Sanctum personnel. Allow me to firstly commend you for your duty to Cocoon; your unwavering loyalty to her prosperity has been an inspiration comparable to that of the Fal'Cie. Today we will undergo a massive operation focused on raising the spirits of our citizens, as well as our own. Under the wise guidance of our Fal'Cie Eden we shall bolster pride throughout the land. Remember, my dear compatriots, that we live always under the shadow of attack from the annals of Pulse. Let us be vigilant in our watch to protect these humble lives with which we have been entrusted. May paradise continue to reign on Cocoon, and may Lindzei smile on us all."
The message ended. Rosch's heart swelled from the obvious flattery that was supposed to stroke his ego, letting it sink in a little, but felt a more personal happiness in simply being a protector of the planet he loved.
Within a few minutes, the corsair landed in front of the Sanctum Hall. Swarms of reporters were littered at the base of its grand stairs, and numerous GC-CGD soldiers kept them at bay. Rosch stepped out and was met with a mass of voices fighting to have their questions heard for the latest information on the operation. He was almost disappointed most of them didn't notice his approach as he blended in with the other arriving officials until he was being escorted through.
I usually enjoy some exposure to the public here and there. We don't often have occasions for it.
There it was, perched atop the wide stone staircase. Beyond the throng of reporters and camera drones-
The Sanctum Hall. The center of legislative, executive and judicial administration. I have not visited in a while…
As he reached the top step, a line of Corps Tranquifex soldiers saluted crisply in unison. He smiled inwardly, stirring memories of his own days as a cadet in a uniform of yellow and white. The noise began to fade away, and once he reached the main entrance only the sounds of multiple footsteps echoed between the tall columns and vaulted ceiling.
True to tradition, this hall is still of ancient architecture, a temple among the mass of modern buildings that flank it on all sides.
The Sanctum Hall was not without its upgrades, however. Recent additions included small command centers being added on directly to the building with the intent of supplying a round-the-clock task force.
As the Colonel walked through the large double doors into the Hall's ornate and spacious lobby, alive with a quiet buzz of conversation between the leaders of Cocoon, a Hall attendant, dressed in a royal uniform of blue and white, ran up to Rosch.
"Good morning, sir. Please follow me to the conference chamber."
Rosch glanced down at his watch.
It's only 8:10.
His steel grey eyes made a quick scan of everyone present.
I have no business with anyone here. Pleasantries are not my field.
He nodded to the attendant, allowing himself to be led away to the relative quiet of the mostly empty chamber. Only a few politicians strolled on the opposite side, chuckling at whatever their conversation entailed. The attendant bowed and turned on his heel, leaving Rosch to slide into a seat overlooking most of the chamber from above.
Nabaat will be sitting next to me…
The thought made him furrow his brows in annoyance. It wasn't that he hated her; far from it, they had competed in the same class to their current ranks and she had only just edged him out to grab first- she was just so sure of herself that she was overbearing and teased him regularly, almost taunting. Recently that had managed to crawl under his skin, unprofessional as it was, and Lucille was one of the first to notice. As a good subordinate, she said nothing. As a sort of friend, she reassured him that she preferred his command over Nabaat's.
Rosch settled back into the chair, crossing his arms and leg. It was strangely relaxing here. When he closed his eyes, he could almost detect the scent of an air freshener, but perhaps that was a lingering cologne from the attendant.
By the time he emerged from his thoughts, it was 8:28.
An all too familiar clicking reached his ears as his partner officer-in-arms, Lieutenant Colonel Jihl Nabaat, walked over. She flashed a hollow smile at Rosch as she bent down to sit next to him.
"Good morning, Rosch." She adjusted her glasses, the edges of the smile never leaving her lips. "Did you have a pleasant ride over?"
He knew she was toying with him, building up to another snide remark, but he humored her anyway.
"Why yes, Jihl, I did. Lo and behold I even received a message from the Primarch, congratulating me for dealing with your attitude and commentary."
Jihl actually smirked, visibly amused by his barb.
"I hope you received my message as well." It was more of a statement than a question; she made no effort to conceal her threatening demeanor.
"Unfortunately. How thoughtful of you to personally leave me your well wishes."
And insults.
Jihl settled back, satisfied that her intention had come across. "I sincerely meant every word, Colonel."
A man dressed similarly to the attendant appeared below, striding up to a platform positioned in the center of the chamber with a large holographic projector imbedded into it.
Finally, we begin.
The Primarch was an older man, perhaps in his mid-60's. Age did not diminish his regal presence and tall figure from standing out among whoever was by his side, not in the least because of his elegant purple and white garments. He reminded Rosch of a grandfather as he sat perched above all the members present in the chamber, surveying the events unfolding below with a critical gaze.
The presenter of the operation's review droned on in a noticeable Eden-born accent, sharply pronouncing certain syllables as was customary of people taught in this city. Rosch had already devoted the operational logs handed to him a few days ago to memory, so sitting there was something of a bore.
The presenter stopped, stepping off the platform. All eyes turned to the Primarch as he gently stood, microdroid hovering nearby.
"Greetings, members of the Sanctum." His voice echoed through the chamber powerfully.
"I am pleased to see you all gathered here today. I do not intend to keep you from your duties, important as they are." Part of Dysley's sway over the populace and even the Sanctum was his unwavering honesty and directness in addressing important matters.
"I have nothing but words of encouragement and good tidings for the efforts you are about to undertake. Today will be a memorable day in Cocoon's history; let us do our part to lead her to the glory of a shining dawn."
Primarch Dysley turned and steadily left the chamber to a thunderous standing ovation, to which Rosch and Jihl contributed. When it finished, a giddy atmosphere descended upon the departing officials as they filed away to their respective posts, rife with anticipation. Our of the corner of his eye, Rosch spotted the well-known Brigadier General Cid Raines staring in his direction, but whether it was on purpose or even intended for him, he did not know.
Rosch tapped the comlink on his ear.
"Connect me to Captain Lucille."
"One moment sir."
…
"Captain Lucille reporting."
"Lucille, we are boarding the Fenrir, yes?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. Send a corsair to the entrance of the Hall to pick me up. I want the ship prepped to leave the moment I step onto the bridge."
"Right away."
"Do me a favor, would you?"
"Sir?"
"I'd like a datalog ready with the fleet's positions."
"Will that be all?"
"Yes. Dismissed."
Rosch could feel the beginnings of a cocky smile tug at his features as he stepped out of the lobby and into the fresh morning air.
Maybe today won't be as bad as I originally thought.
The smell of ventilated air and fresh metal was invigorating, especially aboard a newly commissioned assault ship. Rosch took in the beautiful scene before him: an organized crew of technicians typed away at numerous terminals to engage the engines and stabilize the Fenrir's fins for takeoff. The holograph in front of him provided a clear view of the ship's vital sectors, as well as a visual on some of the nearby ships that were prepping for launch as well.
"Engines ready, sir."
"Fins in position."
"Shields are at full power."
"Batteries are loaded."
They operated like clockwork, a fine-tuned team of men and women that were ready to pilot the Fenrir to Pulse itself if they had to.
"Launch into formation. I want status reports at the ready and open comm channels with all the ships in this squad, including the Palamecia."
Even though it was supposed to be a routine mission with absolutely no chance of interference, Rosch would be taking no risks. He was dedicated to protocol no matter how lax the routine was, because that was what saved lives in case of an emergency.
"Glad to see you aboard, sir." Lucille walked onto the bridge, saluting.
"As am I, captain." He nodded. "It's been a few weeks since we've had any movement. Perhaps now will be a good time for you to prove you're ready for a promotion."
Lucille did not attempt to hide her grin; Colonel Rosch could be a benevolent man when he wanted to be.
"Did the meeting go smoothly?"
"It was as eventful as a trip to the toilet."
The Colonel relaxed around her; when he was cracking jokes, she knew he was in a good mood. He stayed on the bridge for a moment longer before retiring to the observation deck for a drink.
"Are ya always this deep in thought, General?"
Cid's focus was cut like a string. Rygdea's heavy country accent had the habit of doing that to him. He glanced at the shaggy haired captain, who offered a lopsided grin as apology.
"I would think you already knew the answer to that, Rygdea."
"Just checkin'. It's about today's mission, isn't it?"
"It is." Cid's tone was uncharacteristically grim. "While PSICOM has fun flexing their arm, we're left with the serious task of keeping Eden under control. I can't help but feel there's something more going on underneath the surface."
"What do ya mean? I know we don't see eye to eye with those fellas but you seem to think there's a hidden agenda."
"It's just a feeling I cannot shake off. Such a large part of PSICOM spreading across Cocoon, with the Primarch at the front seat? The objective being to boost morale among the citizens?"
"Well, since you put it that way, that does sound fishy."
"In due time, we will come to understand the true purpose of this operation. Until then, we will be cautious."
"Gotcha. Any special orders for the boys?"
The General shook his head. "Not yet. I want no movements until we're certain of what we're doing."
Silence fell upon them.
"…Why did you really come here, Captain?"
"What do ya mean why did I come here? To check up on you!"
And that is why you're my trusted friend, Rygdea.
