Chapter 2: Homeroom

Far to the south of Balamb Garden was an archipelago of rocky, desolate land. These fragmented isles were cradled by a longer subcontinent ending in a vast desert. The continent was once a verdant paradise, and home to an advanced civilization known collectively as the Centra. For four thousand years it was the center of human civilization; a far-reaching empire which spread its grasp to all corners of the world. A highly mobile people, their scattered remnants were the building blocks of two great nations.

In the west was the Dollet Empire, a warlike society who viewed their new land as a means of conquest. Over time, they splintered into the three nations: Dollet, Galbadia and Timber. Over the eons their cultural ties to each other had severed, but their fiery spirits shone as bright as ever. And with no more land to claim, they began to fight amongst each other.

In the east was the City-State of Esthar, a collective of the enlightened peoples of Centra. Seeking to take their homeland's technological prowess to its apex, they constructed a self-sustaining metropolis. The feat was made all the more impressive considering the harsh terrain in which they'd done it. Wastelands and barren flats were their new home, complete with the cruelest irony – a great salt lake. Fresh water was scarce, supplies were limited, and the land offered little in the way of a bounty. And yet, somehow, they'd thrived there for hundreds of years.

And even as impressive as these nations were, none stood as mighty as Centra themselves. Tales were still told of their unrivaled beauty. Tree-lined roads led to their mighty brick and stone citadels, complete with tall columns that supported entire floating cities. The vibrant crimson color of the architecture giving the appearance of red-clothed watchmen, passing judgment upon those who traveled beneath them. A fierce love of their technology pushed them to create devices which performed feats that seemed impossible, even magical. They might have ruled the planet until the end of time, so all-consuming was their presence.

Yet, a little more than a century ago, a great calamity destroyed their utopia. But it was not flood nor fire which led to their downfall, but a celestial event on a horrific scale. The native Centra people were utterly destroyed, leaving behind only the now culturally distinct nations that they had spawned.

The last known structures of Centran origin were mobile defense shelters, which had sailed across the waters in their last days. While these buildings had been derelict and abandoned for ages, roughly twelve years ago they had taken on a new life. Now known as "Gardens", they had been turned into military academies, accepting students between the ages of 5 and 20. Balamb Garden was unique in that it was the home for the mercenary force known as SeeD. Students could enter a unique area of study in an attempt to join the illustrious organization, who served as for-hire combatants on loan to governments around the world.

The organization was founded by the same man who had founded the Gardens, a middle-aged entrepreneur turned headmaster named Cid Kramer. He would talk at length about the importance of SeeD, and his passion for their work seemed to stem beyond a simple desire for the profits earned by a pack of sell-swords.

Squall had been a cadet at the Garden for as long as he could remember. It was under the advisement of Cid that he took up efforts to join SeeD, though it was for more than just the monetary gain, or the prestige. In fact, Squall cared very little about the money (he was rather utilitarian by nature, even for a military cadet) and the honor and attention shown to SeeD operatives was one of the few detracting arguments in his mind. Simply put, he felt he belonged in SeeD. This wasn't that special, most students attending Balamb Garden thought of themselves as future "SeeD" material, regardless of the exclusivity. And yet to Squall, he couldn't really see any other option for himself.

There were, of course, countless others available to him. The majority of students who completed their military training were given preferential commissions within a variety of military organizations - the most popular choice being the Galbadian Military. Some chose to join the Dollet Peacekeeping Forces, and fewer still served as glorified police officers in Timber or Winhill. But Galbadia had the best money - at least for its officers.

Then there was the role of Instructor, though Squall certainly didn't fancy himself a teacher of any kind. He might make a decent weapon trainer, though he didn't see himself in a homeroom role such as Quistis. He doubted a position of authority would improve his mood about social gatherings. Perhaps he could always leave the academy and find some nice quiet corner of the world to settle in and take on a completely unrelated career. But that was no good. Squall himself would deem this a complete waste of his education. SeeD was his only real option. He didn't trust himself enough to make his own decisions about the big picture, but he didn't want to surrender his free will entirely by joining a proper military unit. SeeD gave him the perfect amount of autonomy, and if things went well, today he would be accepted into their ranks.

Squall entered the classroom with Quistis at his heels. The great bay window in the back of the room let in the sun, albeit filtered through a glassy blue tint. Along the side walls was a sloping design that grew narrow towards the back, topped with a swirling cyan pattern of Centran origin. The artistic effect was marred slightly by the alert panel on the back-right corner. The top constantly emitted a faint red light, but the various unlit bulbs each had a unique warning to impart should they be lit. A long speaker near the base would emit the signal bell for the class, as well as a batch of emergency alerts and claxons were they needed. The most common thing to hear from that speaker, however, was the daily announcements which would go out across the academy, usually delivered by the Headmaster himself.

Most of the other cadets were already seated at the lines of computer terminals - deemed "study panels" - which were used in lieu of weighty textbooks and notes. Each panel could hold two students, in long booth seating. They were a tight uniform arrangement: three columns across, six rows back. Seifer sat in the back row as he always did, choosing the center column. Perhaps he felt it gave him the best view from which to turn up his nose at the rest of his classmates. He leaned back in his chair, showing something approaching disdain for the process of education.

He had neatly trimmed blond hair which met the military bearing, and while he wore a cadet uniform shirt, pants and low quarters, he was for some reason permitted to wear a navy-blue vest and an old gray officer's trench coat with a red cross embroidered onto the sleeve. Some theorized that he was given this preferential treatment due to his service to the school as a head of the Disciplinary Committee, a group of rule enforcers consisting of himself, and his two closest friends, Fujin and Raijin. Though the body was officially recognized by the school, it was a rather common occurrence for the group to abuse their power to punish students they didn't like.

Squall was happy to see that his once chiseled face was now marred as well, a thin red gash held together by sutures mirroring his own. Perhaps bandages seemed too cumbersome to Seifer, or perhaps Squall's strike had not been as devastating. If the fresh wound pained him, Seifer gave no sign of it. Squall took the left side column and marched straight to the rear of the room. Seifer favored him with a sarcastic nod before Squall took his seat. Squall just brushed this off. He would have sat anywhere else, but he preferred the back row too.

Quistis took her place at the head of the classroom, behind her own wide desk. It had a panel of its own for her to use, which linked directly to the wide monitor behind her. It was presently displaying a moving image of the solar system. The planets and other celestial bodies moved about in a clockwork dance, their world and its moon sailing into focus. A small numeric display in the bottom of the monitor read CE (Centran Era) 3900. Shortly after the year ticked over to CE 3901, there appeared a massive red line which crossed the channel of space between the moon and the world. Squall recognized at once the calamity that had ended the oldest civilization. The Lunar Cry, a massive wave of monsters which had reigned in an apocalypse for one nation, and a new era of strife for the others. The year now read "1 AC" (After Centra). That had been one hundred years ago.

She straightened her glasses, cleared her throat and at once the soft, teasing voice she had used with Squall was replaced with a deep, firm Instructor's timbre, words marching out in practiced cadence as she began to issue commands.

"I know some rumors have been flying around since yesterday," she began. "And they are correct. We have found a suitable contract, meaning that at long last this year's SeeD Field Exam will begin later this afternoon. "

There was an excited chattering amongst the students. The test date was always a bit of an enigma, requiring there to be a proper live battle situation in which to test prospective SeeDs. There was always some armed conflict in the world, but duties that could be safely entrusted to amateurs was a bit trickier to find, even if they were backed by experienced SeeD members.

"Quiet down," Quistis ordered firmly, but politely. This was one of the reasons why she was so popular. She believed in a gentle touch as opposed to firmer hand of the other Instructors. "Applicants will have the rest of the day to prepare themselves. Those of you who are not applying - or failed the written exam last week - will remain here and study."

Seifer was casually flicking through the study panel, looking up anything that would distract him from the boring lectures he'd sat through numerous times. Had he bothered to pay attention he might glean an understanding as to why he had not yet been awarded the title of SeeD despite his prior attempts. But, to Seifer, this was all white noise; a distraction that was not worth his time.

Quistis noticed Seifer's idleness and decided to set him straight. "Oh, and Seifer."

Seifer looked up from the study panel but made no excuse for himself. He replied to her prompt with a bored scowl and nothing more.

"Do not injure your partner during training," She said firmly.

Seifer glanced over at Squall and then back to her. He jammed his hand to his forehead in a mocking salute before slamming it down on the study panel in frustration. This seemed to satisfy Quistis for the moment and she wrapped up her afternoon greetings.

"Those of you sticking around we are going to be reviewing the history of the intercontinental train tunnel between Balamb and Timber," there was a collective groan. "If last week's written exam is any indication this is an area in which you could all use a bit of refresher. SeeD applicants you are dismissed."

Seifer stood up hastily, vaulting himself over the study panel and swaggering out of the room without so much as a moment's glance at Quistis. Squall followed shortly after, passing his fellow students who were pulling up particularly verbose looking old newspaper clippings on their study panels with a look usually reserved for dental appointments.

"Squall, I'd like to speak with you a moment," Quistis said, ushering Squall closer to her.

Squall was going to go try and grab something to eat, but he figured he knew what Quistis was about to say.

"You haven't completed the prerequisite assignment yet, have you?" Quistis asked.

I was going to do it this morning, but Seifer- Squall's thoughts were cut short by Quistis.

"Do you have a good excuse?" She insisted.

Squall shook his head. "Not really."

"Well then you'd better come along with me," Quistis checked the wall clock on her panel. "Homeroom ends in an hour," Quistis said, catching Squall's attention once more. "After that I want you to meet me at the front gate. You're dismissed until then."

Xu sat in Headmaster Cid's office with a data pad firmly clutched in her hand. She was reviewing, with a godlike gift for multi-tasking, a variety of maps, intercepted orders, and troop deployment statistics. Her long brown hair curtained the sides of her face as she worked feverishly, piecing together the final plans for their exam later that day.

Lesser soldiers would waffle at the idea of treating a life or death mission like a sort of game, and yet Xu had an uncanny knack for strategy. It was one of the reasons Cid trusted her so much. Her uniform was not as neat as Quistis's, there were some signs of extensive field wear. A seared patch on her shoulder, a tear at her cuff that had been stitched back into place, and a general dulling of the fabric from a vivid black and bright gold to a muted grey and washed out yellow. Considering the fact that SeeD members rarely wore their uniform in assignment, this was a testament to how much field experience she had; as one would naturally expect of the highest-ranking SeeD.

She wouldn't trade this life for anything in the world though. She kept telling Quistis that she should give up her aspirations to be a mere Instructor and join her out on assignments. The two had been thick as thieves since they enrolled together nearly a decade ago, and while they still worked together quite often, it just wasn't the same.

Today would be the exception - Quistis's class had two applicants for SeeD and she had been chosen as one of the nine support members. Of course, the only way they would see any action together is if the students failed, so perhaps she shouldn't get her hopes up. Xu shook her head to clear out the lingering pangs of disappointment and returned to the task at hand.

The office was a tasteful affair, a modest mahogany desk sitting at the end of a long room, decorated lightly with various symbols of office, including the etching of the crossed sickle shapes that made up the Garden banner. A massive bay window that stretched to the top of the Garden let sunlight in and gave a beautiful view of the forest and mountains behind them. The top floor only had this one room, but it was always worth the trip for the sights. The layout confused Xu - the ceiling seemed far too tall for the limited floor space, but perhaps the old Centran architects were just fans of spectacle.

Cid walked up to her, an old man who looked more like a banker than a military commander. He had short brown hair, glasses, and a face positively webbed in smile wrinkles. He might have once had a fit physique on him, but those days had long since gone to pot. His belly now squeezed snugly in a maroon vest and pin-stripe shirt, ending in brown slacks.

"How goes it, Xu?" Cid asked, leaning down as much as his age would allow.

"Quite well, sir," Xu nodded. She then looked back to her data pad and gave a slight shrug. "Well, that is to say absolutely miserable for Dollet, but it's good for us."

"The Dollet Peacekeeping Force is no match for the Galbadian Army," Cid sighed. He turned away and tried not to think of the thirty graduates he had recently sent to them. "How many applicants today?"

"Twelve. And nine supporting SeeD members," Xu answered from memory.

"A small strike-force. Certainly not capable of driving out the invaders," Cid observed, distractedly stroking his green tie.

"That's never the point of this exam is it? And besides, Dollet didn't pay us all that much," Xu replied, with a slight mercenary edge bordering on callousness. Perhaps she'd been in the business too long, but all she saw at this point were numbers, and all she heard the clinking of gil coins.

"No, I suppose not. We go in, cause a scene, and so long as the citizens are safely evacuated then all is well," Cid shrugged.

"Are you sure our SeeDs can handle this?" Xu asked. She then clarified her concern. "I have full confidence in my team, but this is a full-on assault. Dollet is a fortified island."

"It's not the usual brush fire conflict for certain. Hardly an ideal testing ground, I'll admit. We only need to secure a route out of the city. Make sure the applicants are ready to evacuate if things turn sour," Cid explained.

"And this little experiment will give us the answers you need?" Xu asked.

Cid let out a small chuckle. "I've found that, if you know what to look for, the smallest of acts can be rather enlightening."