Author's Note: Miki's back! And after such a long absence, I must admit, I've missed this site a great deal! Well, to explain this new story a bit, the idea came to me randomly as usual. It was originally planned to be strictly based on the events of FF8, but, well, you know how things change the more you write off a budding idea. It's completely A/U, but it borrows many events that did happen in the game. Anyway, here's the full summary:
"For seven nights, the moon had vanished, leaving the land's natural balance disturbed. And two children were cursed to sleep for seven days. The continent of Galbadia has fallen to civil war, and a mysterious city from which a young woman seeks escape, is depending on its last throes to hinder the advances of the Galbadian military. The great Republic of Esthar is laying siege to various villages and port towns east of Galbadia, a surprising display of fury to all nations that had once been protected by it. This betrayal was the first to send the world into a state of war, in which nothing and no one is spared; enemies lay within allies; political powerhouses seek the aid of the Special Forces, SeeD to perhaps set the course of the world straight, or to perpetuate the prevailing bloodshed. To unravel the secrets behind the devastation, the prophetical "Children of Darmis" must find each other and piece together the circumstances of their pasts and the future they must trust in."
And if you do decide to stick around, I promise you won't be disappointed in this epic!
Invasion For Retreat
Black smoke blurred the amber horizon, where the clouds appeared like purple bruises against the sky. Metal structures rose high above the smoggy, hard air of the emptying streets, heavy pollution seething through the stagnant atmosphere. Near a dangling wooden shop sign, a nearly broken wagon stood, creaking and leaking out splinters. It was the only fairly operational wagon she could find, and it would have to hold up long enough until she could get something that could transport her away, somewhere far from that ever-present bloody horizon.
Motes of dark embers, almost colorless in the light of the dying sun began falling, here and there, landing on the scoffed ash-gray roads and in her hands. These particles were the insignia of the war, an everyday precipitation produced by it—the smell of sulfur and petroleum invaded the town just as the war had.
"This can't be good for the fruit," someone said above the roaring aircrafts and the rescue personnel that was only a short distance away.
When she turned, the unfamiliar soldier came forth. He wasn't grinning, nor did he look displeased. Just . . . bored maybe. This was a rarity she saw in soldiers. These men always found something to do, and if they didn't want to do a particular thing that at least didn't grant a half-grin, they wouldn't do it. But this man was different. He was cut away from the rest, he was unfamiliar.
"People buy them anyway," she replied. "Not much you can do in a war." And it was true, there really wasn't much a girl like her could do nowadays. People either adapted or fled, but she didn't belong to either. She was both running, and accepting of, a remarkable situation to be in in this town.
"You could fight," the blond soldier replied. His eyes were as emerald as the plains of Belis encompassing the small city-state, serene but like guarding mountains, standing watch over his inner secrets. If there was anything she learned about the eyes of a soldier, it was that they always had their own unique beauty. Yet, they were too brutal and warded off to be considered attractive by most.
"I'd rather stay here and sell my fruit," she replied.
Saying no more, the girl dropped the embers that were silently collecting in her gloved palms.
This soldier, barely a man, but qualified as such, was a reinforcement. He had to be, otherwise, he wouldn't be speaking to her about the falling embers defiling the baskets of fruit she was selling. He also was young, around her age, and men like him had all been sent off to one of the Galbadian military bases. This one, she'd never seen in this town before, and she knew that she'd remember his face for ages. This one should have been where the heavy plumes of smoke was rising, stretching into the sky as if to escape the world it was ensnared in. Her small city was losing the battle.
A strong wind threw the embers in an uproar, and the soldier's silver coat flaps mimicked them, revealing a glimpse of a gunmetal object that was too long to be simply a gun. Her heart fluttered and a wave of apprehension took over.
The soldiers here paraded their artillery around, marching through the streets with blatant superiority; it was their trademark, a label better suited for the vicious grendels populating the forests. But then, those beasts were acting purely on instinct. These soldiers were acting on their own inner complexes. Seeing the weapon concealed beneath his coat scared her, though she should have expected him to be armed.
"What the hell? You'd rather sell fruit to non-buyers? Why?" the soldier laughed, folding his arms across his chest. "And it doesn't bother you that you're the only one standing out here under this shitty-ass sign, making no profit?"
"It can't be helped," she simply said, and it was all she needed to say. What did he expect her to do? Pick up an apple and charge right into battle? Unlike his fearless kind, she couldn't just solve her problems through combat, solutions like that were only meant for the strong, and she was far from that.
When the city's independence was stolen, so was her chance to fly away. She was trapped like the colossal smoke that frequented the skies.
"Shouldn't you be fighting over there?" she asked him, finding that annoyance could outweigh her fear.
"I just came from over there, they're just cleaning up."
"So, you're not a reinforcement?"
"Yeah, I am. I have nothing to do with this war," he answered.
"Then you're a SeeD?" she asked.
The military was quite hesitant of hiring SeeD. Not only were they expensive, but they were also completely uninvolved with the conflicts towering over the city. They were detached from why the soldiers whom they were aiding fought. They were just an outside force, fighting for a cause that belonged only to the city. In essence, they were just about the same as the force opposing them. But the battles were growing intense, and the militia was losing too many men—men who had once been civilians, the children of the city. This battle was the final one, a last attempt to thwart the military might of the Galbadian army. The call to have SeeDs dispatched had been one of desperation if anything.
Still, she found it a little surprising and disappointing that this soldier had that "outsider" mentality. No sensitivity whatsoever. But this was war, such a thing was obsolete.
By his attitude, it was quite obvious who he was, but she supposed that he chose not to answer her because it really wasn't necessary. Once he completed his commission, he'd be gone, just as suddenly as he had appeared.
"Anyway, I'm outta here. Good luck selling," he said, throwing her a lopsided grin.
"It's only 5 gil a basket. . . ."
"I'll think about it."
And he was gone, casually walking the opposite way of the few, furtive townspeople as they searched for a quick place to hide.
As Kal had anticipated, the Galbadian units were making their way in through Caelum's only fortress: the Timberlands. It was just as the name implied, a vast stretch of trees and shrubs that connected the city to the forests and grasslands beyond. The natural defense was adequate enough, considering the dense foliage and the cover it provided, but the Galbadians were good at discovering flaws and using it to their advantage. While the trees shielded and concealed the small city, they were mere twigs against the massive armored combat vehicles that plowed through the forests.
As a second line of defense were the city's underdeveloped military unit. A majority of these soldiers were just kids, no older than twenty, bearing weapons against a sudden force that was by far, mightier and well-experienced. Their supplies were mainly provided by left-over weapons from previous wars outside of their city, now rusting and outdated, clearly no match for the advanced munition of the innovative Galbadians, second to that of the technological Esthar. Every few short months they were discovering, experimenting, and researching, all to empower their own nation.
Kal believed that for the advancement of a civilization, such tasks were necessary, but conquering and bullying other developing countries with pure brute-force was downright shameful. The Galbadians had no sense of obligation to the larger world outside of their enclosed one. All they cared for was conquest and gaining materials specific to a region, stopping for no one, set-apart from the people who were left to conform to a war-ravaged land.
"These are the latest reports, sir!" a man simply titled Watts said. The green skullcap he wore with the faded corduroys and a matching vest practically summed him all up. He was good at gathering information, even impossible facts sometimes, which made him very valuable to the team. Still quirky as hell though.
"Hm, perfect," Kal replied, eying the holographic diagram of two panzers belonging to the 2nd Infantry Division of the Galbadian Army. It was a supplies truck ordered in from a lieutenant who reported that his platoon was low on ammunition. They were being heavily showered by class five magic, a skill that only SeeDs could command. This particular information had come in from the radio waves the Galbadians used to communicate, an easy interception that Kal liked to describe as 'listening in'.
Kal flicked the plastic base of the hologram with his fingers, and the images disappeared.
"No wonder," Kal thought aloud. He handed the report to a curious Watts.
"No wonder what, sir?" the man questioned, placing the information on the rectangular table that held various other documents and the like.
"I was wondering why Caelum's army was lasting so long against the Galbadians. It took us an hour to get here, and I was sure by then, the war would have ended. . . . So they hired SeeDs, eh?"
SeeDs had been present when Galbadia invaded his hometown of Timber, which wasn't too far from Caelum. Having been the crux of trade and international commerce for years, Timber had been the centerpiece of Galbadian commercialism. It had been the main harboring port for other countries, surpassing even that of Dollet, only it had not fallen under Galbadian control like others. Timber was the first to suffer such a fate.
The battle was hard-fought however, but not even the many resistance factions, and even SeeDs could stop them. For the Galbadians, recapturing government control of Timber meant the complete unification of their empire. Now, not only were they the champions of trade, they were also in a vital position. Timber's location at the edge of the continent was convenient and it allowed Galbadia's economy to boom.
When Galbadia had destroyed the forests surrounding Timber, contained the opposing forces, the SeeDs had withdrawn, collecting their pay. All Kal had to collect were the remains of his family and friends. Now, seventeen years later, he was apart of a crew that felt the same way as he. This faction was strictly dedicated to hindering the Galbadian army in any way possible.
"So what do you think, sir? This could be our only chance, especially now that SeeD is here. . . ."
Watts was also good for interrupting Kal's thoughts.
"We'll send 'em in there, of course," Kal laughed, adjusting his headpiece. He turned to the half-closed blinds where gray light spilled into the communications room. Beyond was just a wall of dark shades of green. ". . . This is Kal, do you copy?" he said, speaking into the device at his mouth.
Watts moved to the end of the room, sitting before a wall of computer screens, interfaces, and blinking control panels.
"I copy. What's up?" a feminine voice said back.
"There are two supplies vehicles coming within a 1 mile radius, headed your way. Arm yourselves," Kal replied.
"Nice," the female said. "That'll hurt them for sure!"
"Be careful, the moment they spot you, they'll report to their superiors and we'll be sitting ducks if you don't get your asses back to Base immediately," Kal warned, throwing a glance toward Watts. When he was out scouting for info, most of the time he was left behind whenever the Galbadians grew too suspicious of them.
"I know, I know," the female repeated time and again. "See you in ten, Kal."
They disconnected.
The plan was to wipe out the supplies vehicles making its way into Caelum, take the loot meant for the Galbadian platoon, and get back to the base before their location was discovered. It was a simple enough operation, nothing that Rinoa wasn't used to. All throughout the Galbadian continent, she and the rest of her crew left their mark on the Galbadian army any chance they got. The faction tried their best to injure their troops and battle tactics, even if those marks were only scratches.
It had taken just about a year and a half for the Galbadians to finally acknowledge their slightly formidable opponents, spoken of by underground news and radio broadcasters, appearing in the papers, and even dubbed heroes by those opposed to Galbadia. Of course, if she and her crew were to go up against just a fourth of their military might, they'd lose in a matter of minutes. However, combat was not the technique that made her faction a splinter under the Galbadians' nail, it was their ability to show up at a crucial moment and cause havoc.
Receiving publicity and fame was not their target. They were here to defend the defenseless, spit back at the Galbadians, to stop them for however long it would take.
Right now, from Rinoa's understanding, the SeeDs had arrived into battle. They'd been deployed a few weeks before the actual battle had started, which suggested that Caelum knew they were going to be under Galbadian fire soon. When Galbadia's military had mobilized, so did her faction. Silently, they had followed the army to this location, choosing now, a very pivotal moment, to attack and do their damage.
With the SeeDs firing away, providing much aid to the otherwise weak Caelum troops, Galbadia's platoon was in need of more ammo, and all her crew had to do was prevent the vehicles from reaching their destination. It would buy the SeeDs and Caelum more time, but it would also uncover her faction's whereabouts.
Operations like these were always risky, and required a loss on both fronts, but such a loss was worth it when one was fighting for freedom and justice.
"Hear they come," Zone, Rinoa's right-hand man in combat, commented. Though she heard the harsh thrum of the engines in the surely armored truck, she saw nothing. Averting her eyes from the confirmed direction the vehicles would be driving in, Rinoa took a moment to eye her other men. They all were prepared, guns and projectiles firmly gripped.
Smiling slightly, she turned to tend to her own weapon. The pinwheel was simple in design, a sleek gunmetal blade, circular in shape, clamped to her forearm by a metal holster and two wide straps. The weapon had been a gift to her by the Chief herself, back in Timber. She saw the potential in Rinoa, and as a sign of such a belief, had provided her with a device to fight the Galbadians. The weapon had been Rinoa's practically since she joined the Forest Owls.
Zone shifted his weight by the base of the tree he was crouching by. In a much higher position, atop a branch of that same tree was where Rinoa could be found.
Soon, the vehicles came in to view, one of a rusty orange tinge, and the other black and red. An obnoxiously huge insignia of Galbadia marked both of the vehicles. Rinoa stood up, stretching a hand out to signal the other men on the opposite side of the road. Immediately, they rose and aimed their own projectiles at the wheels of the vehicles.
The sound of bomb-infused metal inflating rubber sounded when the Galbadians stopped moving forward. A few moments later, two soldiers, clad in dark blue, with metal helmets concealing their faces appeared from the vehicles.
Automatically, their stances were cautious and inspecting, probing the forests on either sides of their vehicles. They then signaled for the rest of their men that had come along.
As two other soldiers crouched to examine the cause for the flat tires, Rinoa took that as her chance to strike.
She lifted her pinwheel to eye level, concentrated, pulling the lever, and shortly after, the trigger. Instantaneously, the blade shot from her arm and stabbed one of the soldier's rapiers. The weapon was forced from his gloved hands.
"We're under fire! Head for cover!" one of the soldiers shouted, but it was too late. They were already engaged by the members who had struck first.
Rinoa quickly climbed from the tree, trailed by two others of her crew. Zone followed suit, gripping his turning stomach.
"I don't feel too good," he said, and Rinoa ignored him. Once the danger escalated, he was known to do that.
With one soldier knocked out cold, and three more to go, Rinoa swiftly ran to retrieve her blade. As she did so, the owner of the snatched rapier came charging for her. She hurdled to the ground as Zone came forward. He threw his hand in the direction of the nearing soldier, and a stream of bright orange light came spewing forth, seemingly out of thin air. It spiraled and crashed into the soldier, exploding into a ball of flame, burning the soldier's clothing and cracking his vizer.
The soldier fell to the ground, but the flames on his armor were short-lived as they receded. The spell of fire was class one, powerless against his fire-absorbent clothing. The simple spell, however, provided Rinoa with enough time to grab her pinwheel and shoot it toward a third soldier that threatened to kill Zone with one slice of his sword. The blade entered the Galbadian's shoulder and he went down, more from the force, than an actual injury.
A gun shot followed, drilling into the downed soldier's chest.
Zone moved to grab Rinoa's pinwheel, and in doing so, was slashed at by his previous opponent. He dodged the strike, but a few shreds of his shirt was taken away from him. The other three members of the forest owls were too busy with the fourth soldier to aid Zone, but Rinoa was there to pull Zone's weakened body from the soldier. Casting magic had always left him feeble and tired after a few short minutes, which was why he only used it during an emergency.
Hurriedly, Rinoa worked to place her weapon back to her forearm so she could shoot it again, but she saw that the soldier was pointing a hand toward her, his rapier dropping to his side.
He was summoning magic!
Galbadian soldiers were right up there with SeeDs when it came to the art of summoning. She stood no chance against him, especially with the other two members occupied and Zone taken out.
The fireball spat from his hand, propelling forward. Forgetting her weapon and how panicky her hands were, Rinoa pushed herself away from the ground, moving only a few short inches from where her incinerated body would have been.
The pinwheel slipped from her hand and skidded against the rocks and soil. She quickly popped up from the ground, ignoring the injury she knew she had on her shoulder and neck. The tongue of the soldier's spell had gotten her.
She could hear his fast footsteps coming up behind her as she scrambled to get her pinwheel.
"You damned muskrat!" cried the soldier.
But before he could end her, another gunshot rang out and instantly the soldier keeled forward, slumping into Rinoa's arms. She could hear his stifled breath, and then his body became limp.
"You're crazy for starting without me!" came the familiar voice of the person who'd saved Rinoa . . . again. In his hand was the sleek, powerful weapon he called, Hyperion. It was a thin blade, with a large automatic pistol attached to the base. She could see the smoke emitting from the hybrid. Always, that weapon was the next thing she saw after her survived encounter with death. "You all were just about done for. . . ." he said with disappointment in his voice. The male shook his head, and came forth.
He kicked the dead soldier away from Rinoa, offering his hand.
She took it, with a bit of uncertainty, as if she wasn't sure if he could see her, as if she were wondering if she were still alive.
Then the searing pain from her shoulder threw her back to reality, and all she could think about was how much it burned.
"This is Kal, do you copy?" Rinoa's ear piece shrilled. "Get back to the Base, we're under pursuit!"
With the Galbadian platoon decimated, and a crumbled, scorched street filled with severely injured militia, Squall searched around, taking note of his own men who were aiding the medical unit in their endeavors to get the injured to a secure place. He found that to be a familiar irony, his soldiers tending to the wounded, in his line of work. The rescue personnel too were deployed by his academy from overseas at approximately 1400 hours. His second in command, Quistis Trepe, had sent the request immediately after the battle had ended.
From Wellens Boulevard, Squall had led the finishing attack against Galbadia, leaving the weakened militia behind to secure the city's center. In actuality, Squall's command for them to stay behind to prevent any invading soldiers that managed to get passed them was only a guise. Instead, he had simply provided a safe-haven for the inexperienced soldiers because they'd only get in his way, and he wanted to avoid that at all costs.
Even if the Galbadians did sneak past Squall and his own squad of SeeDs to the militia, there were more trained cadets who were deployed along with them, for their field exam, who wouldn't let the Galbadians pass. Naturally, there would be casualties in Caelum's makeshift army, but Squall sought to lessen the numbers by having them stay behind.
But then, as the SeeDs battled, sending an onslaught of powerful magic across the battlefield, followed by wave after wave of gunfire(the idea being to push the Galbadians as far back as they would go)the militia began creeping up in between the SeeDs, shooting their measly guns at the Galbadians, and receiving two bullets to the chest in return.
They were beyond senseless to enter a fight between SeeDs and Galbadians, but then Squall had to remember that these people were very prideful. They wanted to fight until the end for their city, trying their hardest to keep from relying on his men too heavily, which was an impossibility. They had been stupid and careless, and now they were paying for it.
As he sheathed his weapon, Squall surveyed the charred terrain of the city, analyzing the burning brick buildings, the dark soot plastered on the wounded soldiers' pale faces, and the chilled, bitter air swirling over the ruins. White, hovering stretchers zoomed past him, awaiting the weight of an injured or dead body to be taken to the appropriate facilities. The former battlefield had become a large street of cluttered people and vehicles, moving here and there with a purpose. It was a good thing that the battle was nearly over when the militia had interfered.
After Galbadia had sent their aircraft to spray the SeeDs with bombs of fire, for a short time, the Galbadians had strangely stopped firing back, and when Squall and the rest of the SeeDs had marched on, they caught a glimpse of the soldiers darting away into the aftermath fog of gunfire, escaping from their posts. He had sent a few cadets and two SeeDs to investigate, and he had yet to hear their explanation, if there was one.
"Commander Leonhart," called one of Squall's subordinates. He turned to a fellow SeeD making his way around the scattered men being wrapped into gauze pads and given curative spells. "A member from the House wishes to speak with you. . . . He's over there," the SeeD said, pointing left where a large white tent housed the hovering stretchers, providing the injured with temporary shelter until the city's medical wagons could get there.
Squall nodded and left.
Being sure to stay out of the way of the nurses, doctors, and other medical agents, Squall maneuvered his way around until he was beside the member of the House, who, at the moment, was speaking with a man of the militia. This one was particularly older than the majority.
"Well, Captain?" said the member, his gloved hand lightly touching the man he spoke to.
"Eh, we did all right, sir. The . . . Galbadians are . . . gone, mayor Dol . . ." he managed, grimacing at the pain in his abdomen. The nurse had cleaned the wound and wrapped it. Now, all it did was bleed through. Squall remembered the Captain charging into battle, ignoring his commands to stand down. Now, here he lay, a broken mess. It was easier now to picture him not as a man with a hardened exterior.
"Hm, indeed. A battle well fought," the member of the House replied, purposefully looking at the injured captain of the militia. Squall knew that compliment belonged to him and his men, but he wouldn't argue. This guy despised SeeD, and he didn't have to inform Squall verbally; it was in his eyes, in his mannerisms. This guy would rather kill his own men then to enlist the help of SeeD or even to just surrender to the might of Galbadia. Luckily, the Senator had not allowed that. But whatever, what ever the hire-ups in this town decided didn't concern Squall.
He was here to perform his duties, which was to aid Caelum militia as they entered into a hopeless battle, no matter the outcome. And the soldiers didn't seem to complain; they wanted to fight.
"You wished to speak with me?" Squall interjected, impatiently placing a hand to his hip.
"Ah, the mighty SeeD," the Captain happily titled Squall. He smiled a weak, slightly embarrassed one. "Thank you, for your help. Even if the Galbadians come back, at least we'll go down in history as a town that resisted them. Just once. . . ." he breathed out.
You'll go down in history as prideful buffoons, if anything, Squall thought to himself. He wondered if all of Caelum's people were willing to die for a city that had no real defense?
"Mr. Leonhart, the Senate wishes to hold a meeting with you and your men to discuss further business. . . ." the mayor said, finally giving the commander his full attention. "Before then, I ask that you remain here and . . . aid these men."
"The contract specifically states that medical help would be provided for. . . ." Squall said, irritated. Though Garden was not obligated to send any medical aide, Quistis had requested anyway. Squall had not objected, but now, he thought against it. He was a SeeD, a specialist in battle, not one to stand for a man, who not only disliked his kind, but also tried to squeeze out anything else from him that did not adhere to the contract. "We've given you medical help. If possible, I would like to hold the meeting tonight."
The mayor stared, his contempt seething through his hard, stern features.
"Just like you SeeD people to get the hell out once you've completed a task. Do you not see these injured men around you? They need help, and you SeeD are to provide that. Whatever extra charges there are, we'll gladly pay. The meeting will be held at the convenience of the Senator, no sooner, no later."
With that, Mayor Dolson brushed past Squall, retreating into his vehicle to be taken to the House at the square of the town.
"Don't worry about the Mayor, Mr. Commander," Captain Selser said, reminding Squall of his presence. Squall looked to the pathetic man, wondering how he could just look past the Senate's obvious disregard for their men's well-being. These men were dying for a government that would rather remain in power than to submit, but at the cost of the people they governed. "You'll take a side to him soon enough. It's just that he don't like outsiders is all. . . ." The captain coughed.
Squall sighed inwardly, uncaring if the fool mayor liked him or not. From the moment he had landed on Caelum's shore and been introduced to the mayor he hadn't liked him. But the situation Caelum and its people were in didn't concern the mayor's feelings for Squall. The Galbadians were bound to strike again, especially with an easy, conquerable city-state such as this, and he knew that they'd most likely enlist his help again. As long as the Headmaster at his academy was fine with that, and the contract transactions were made, Squall had no problem risking his life in battle again. What bothered him was Galbadia's motives behind the invasion.
There was a certain pattern that they followed. The Galbadians never intentionally crossed another's territory unless there was a real purpose behind it, which was why Squall found it strange that they'd waste their time taking over an insignificant small city-state like this, one he had no idea even existed. Like Timber, Caelum belonged to the Galbadian government once, so perhaps that was the only reason they bothered with it. Still, the pay for this mission was good, to his surprise, though it was expected when hiring SeeD. He wondered where the city got its funds from. It seemed pretty isolated from other nations, and had virtually escaped the pages of history. But then again, that was none of Squall's concern.
"Commander, there you are. . . ." A blonde woman came forward, toting the dark green suit jacket, and matching long skirt of a SeeD uniform. Her black, calf-high boots were painted with dust and the remnants of rubble.
Squall lead Quistis away from the resting Captain, nodding to him slightly.
"Well, you look pissed. . . ." she commented. Knowing that he wouldn't say anything, Quistis continued. "Anyway, we followed the Galbadians in the general direction they ran towards, and found two vehicles, possibly carrying reloading supplies."
"Possibly?" the Commander asked, looking ahead.
"The panzers were empty when we got there. . . ." Quistis answered.
"No soldiers?" was Squall's next question. They slowly walked amongst the throng of injured people and those that treated them, in no given direction.
"No, there were four dead, and the tires of those vehicles were busted. Someone had stabbed blades into them. An ambush is my guest. By the militia, you think?" she asked, folding her arms.
"Could have been," Squall simply replied. "Or maybe some resistance force. . . ."
"And I'm not sure, but the Galbadians really unloaded on us in battle don't you think? And they didn't even use the entire army. . . ." the blonde mused.
"Your point?"
"It just seemed like a bit much is all," she replied. The two had battled Galbadians before, it was just apart of the life of a SeeD, fighting the only active force, and Quistis learned that her opponents were very resourceful, which also meant that they wanted to either completely demolish the city, or quickly demolish SeeDs. ". . . And I don't know what it is, but this town gives me the creeps. . . ."
Squall said nothing. However, he did share Quistis' feeling. The town was eerie, emitting some sort of mysterious miasma, translucent to the unsuspecting eye. He had felt it since coming here,even the Captain seemed a bit odd before he was injured. His eyes would shift about, and he'd never really looked the SeeD reinforcements in the eye. But, of course, he could have just been mistrusting. Squall wasn't sure if the feeling would last, but suddenly, he wished to get the meeting with the Senate over with. He wanted to fight the Galbadians again, just so he could leave afterward, just so he could get out of this town.
"Man, I wish I could do more for these people," Quistis said aloud. She looked over to two young men, barely conscious, as doctors scrambled to return the lost blood in their bodies.
"It's useless. Another attack by the Galbadians, and this town is done for. . . . It's reality, it's bound to happen." Before Quistis could object and combat his insentient words, Squall continued. "Anyway, the Mayor intends for us to help the wounded until they're ready to hold the meeting. You're free to do as you please, but don't involve yourself any further than you need to. We're breaching the contract as is, and giving them leeway. I'm sure the town would appreciate our minimal involvement."
Then, Squall stormed off, possibly to the base since he was no longer needed. Quistis watched him go, baffled by his behavior, though she was familiar with it.
"How did you get like that, Squall?" she asked herself quietly.
