Chapter 7: Laid plans

Somewhere on Terra, 24th July 4051, 1800 hrs

Once more, at the heart of a shadowy citadel, the Shadow Council convened once more under the light of torches that made the dark shadows of the meeting chamber dance in an unholy frenzy from the unnaturally cold draft. Summoned, as always, by their enigmatic leader, to hear her news so that they could carry out their assigned tasks. All were clad in black robes, men and women alike of Terra's three major races, each bearing a ruby-inlaid and silver pin in the shape of a grinning skull and drops of blood swirling around it. They waited patiently for their leader's arrival in disciplined silence.

Finally, she came, striding out of the shadows, clad in elaborate robes that made her stand out amongst them. Her lips were pulled into a tight smile of subtle triumph as she strode to the head of the circle. If any of the high-ranking Inner Circle members knew why she was smiling that smile, they kept it to themselves. The auburn-haired former High Priestess of the Cult of Murder faced them, silent, regarding them all, "The president of Galbadia has been most interested in what we have to offer him. He tells me that there are those amongst his military arm who support his plans but that they are held back by General Caraway and his loyalists.

"Are you going to go ahead with this, Most High?" a voice rang out, as the speaker detached himself from the rest, "Are you going to support Galbadia?"

"I intend to, my brother. They have the power we need to accomplish our goals of resurrecting our long-dead master. We have waited long enough. It is time for us to act. I would have chosen to wait longer to put more pieces in place but now we no longer have the luxury. The Throne of Blood has revealed itself in our Master's domain."

She let the words she spoke linger, sensing the shock in her followers.

"How…?" one woman choked out, breaking through the stunned silence that had blanketed the chamber.

"I can travel to our Master's citadel in the Abyss, my sister, or did you forget?"

"But," another asked, "The Blood Throne appearing…Most High, that will mean that the Prophecy…"

"Has already begun," the High Priestess finished, "Yes. The clock has already started to turn."

The only way it will appear is if one of our Master's bastard Children – one of sufficient blood strength – was slain by another of superior or equivalent blood-strength. And we all know that there are none left with such strength outside of Zieg Spiritblade, his son and his simpering family – and those we have slain. All those that remain – even if they do intermarry – will never have the strength

"Yes. But some of them have respectable blood-strength and one of them was chosen to be our master's anointed sacrifice to be the key that will start the clock."

"My lady," spoke one of her Inner Circle, "there is a question that begs an answer."

The High Priestess nodded her assent, and the Inner Circle member continued, "You say that someone of sufficient blood-strength is to be the sacrifice. The prophecy stated that it can only begin once another with blood-strength greater or equal to the sacrifice's blood strength performs the deed of murdering his blood-kin. Do you know who they are?"

"Unfortunately, my brother, I do not know. But, I will find out in due time. I am just as curious as to who had such strength of blood to actually cause a ripple that was felt throughout the Abyss. The only ones that I know with such strength was Zieg Spiritblade, his son and his family – and all of them are dead. We can discuss about this matter latter, but for now, we must turn our attention to more pressing matters."

Every Council member nodded as the High Priestess began, "As I have said earlier, I have made a pact with Richter Deling to show him what he desires to have – the power to fulfil his dream of making his country the dominant power on Terra. He lacks patience but not intelligence. He knows that to make a wrong move now would cost him his position. Thus, to unite Galbadia, he will need to go to war."

"And how do you propose we do that? Any such moves on our part, my lady, will still seem like Galbadia's move. The region watches Galbadia's every move through a magno-scope."

"Indeed. But, more to the point," another robed member spoke, "what is it that you are offering Galbadia? You are not one to give empty promises, Most High. If Galbadia intends to become Terra's dominant power, what is it that you offer them that will allow them to become that?"

The auburn-haired woman remained silent for a long time, clearly debating if she should reveal what exactly had been the bargaining chip that she was offering Galbadia.

"Most High, you did say once before that there would be no secrets hidden among us. All of us here are trustworthy – and know that a swift death is the price of having too loose a tongue."

Dark chuckles erupted from more than one throat.

"As you wish. Have you ever heard, from the days of the Usurpation War, of the Sa-matra battle-platform?"

A universal gasp of horror and awe echoed throughout the confines of the meeting chamber. Even the Inner Circle were reduced to staring at their leader, unable to even voice their shock. There was no one on Terra who did not know – and tremble – at the name of the mightiest star fortress to be built in Terra's history. A massive battle-station that was as large as the wrecked continent of Centra and whose power was immortalised in the pages of history as a war-weapon whose destructive capabilities left scars on Terra that would never heal.

The Sa-matra star-fort was the ultimate battle-platform in which the Imperial Dominion had used in its bid to bring Terra's nations under a single banner. The dream of the Holy Wingly Empire reborn. The inferno of the Usurpation War scorched half of Terra and sent billions to their deaths. It was a war that gripped the entire planetary system. Not even the neutral colonies and countries were spared the Dominion's imperialistic dreams. They had but one choice – submit to Dominion rule or face its wrath. The proof of that wrath was evident in the charred continent of Zelgardis where a once-rich bio-system had been reduced to a lifeless desert and the shattered lands of the Andosian Island Chain.

And if that was the bargaining chip that the Shadow Council's leader was offering Galbadia…

"From the looks on your faces, I take it that most of you still remember the stories from the history books. You see, the Sa-matra platform is not only a mere star-fort. It is what was within it that would have given not only Terra, but the entire system, over to the Dominion. Within the containment fields of the Science Facilities within the Sa-matra are creatures known as the Zerg," the High Priestess began.

"Zerg? I have never heard of such creatures."

"Of course, you haven't. But the Imperial Dominion has. The evidence is hidden in the data network deep within the very bowels of the Imperial Palace. So, unless anyone here has an agent of lofty status within the Palace, you'll have to rely on my words."

"You know the capabilities of this Zerg, Most High?" one of the Inner Circle asked.

"I do. Suffice to say, what I know is what the Dominion's scientists knew back then. The Zerg are a space-faring race of monsters and the main goal of their entire race is to assimilate every and all intelligent life forms in order to strengthen its race. It was clear to the Dominion then that the Zerg possessed the capability to supercharge the evolutionary process, to alter the genetic map of any sentient race. After a few generations of a race's assimilation, they bore no resemblance to their predecessors. The Zerg that the Dominion captured several years before the First Usurpation War had merely been a deep-space scouting force.

"The Dominion scientists and Tech-Priests ran experiments on them, in an attempt to harness a potential weapon that could be used to further the Dominion's ambitions. The Zerg are overall a psychic-sensitive race. The experiments performed on the drone proved that beyond all doubt. The drone was part of the deep-space scouting force and its purpose was for the gathering of resources, despite their ability to fire armour-piercing spines, than combat."

"Drones? Are you saying that they are like bees?" one member asked.

"Yes. The drone is seemingly one strain of the Zerg amongst many, for when the Dominion captured the scouting force, there had been others also."

"One amongst many?" one of the Inner Council spoke up, "How many strains of Zerg are there, my lady?"

"I don't know. The Zerg, like I said, are capable of super-charging the evolutionary process of any known species. There might be hundreds for all I know. The ones that protected the scouting force are but a small part of it."

"A thought that is unnerving. Unlike the denizens of the Abyss, who we can bargain with, these Zerg are beyond our control, my Lady. Giving Galbadia the Sa-matra I can understand, but giving them control of the Zerg is akin to having them try to chain the lightning," another member of the Inner Circle spoke, "How will you have Galbadia do that? Much of the technology that would have made it possible was lost almost 500 years ago."

"True. Much of the technology was lost. The SCT template that is held within the vaults of the Imperial Palace in the Dominion is a broken chain. Without the links to forge that chain, it is useless. I have the links to that chain, brother, and have the ability to make it whole," the High Priestess replied with a smile.

Murmurs arose amongst the members of the Council. One of the Shadow Council members finally spoke, "If that is true, my Lady, why did we not use the Sa-matra and the Zerg to our advantage? With Terra in the palm of our hand, we could have accomplished our goals all the more quicker."

The High Priestess's smile became more sinister and those of the Inner Circle exchanged looks, knowing from experience that she had become angry, "True. We could. And reveal who we are to the Church of Hyne and the Church of Falaris. We would have been hunted down in an inquisition more merciless than the one we levied upon our master's bastard children. Can we challenge the assembled might of Terra, my brother? Even if we combined all of our influences, we can barely man the Sa-matra, let alone its defences.

"No. This chess game is best played by one who has the power to play it. We are powerful, brother, but not that powerful. This is a game for kings and conquerors. We can, however, determine the moves of the game. We tried to get our hands involved during the First Usurpation War – and we barely got out of the whole debacle intact as it was."

One of the Inner Circle spoke, "Most High…please remain calm. Our brother has brought up a very good question – something you shouldn't reprimand him for doing. Voicing questions as equals within this place, my Lady, is not only a sign of equality, but as proof of your authority. You say you can control the Zerg. So be it. Do not fail," emphasising the not, "or this system will be a graveyard. You know much about the Zerg, Most High. Please continue. All of us want to know about these creatures."

The High Priestess turned to look at her wingly lieutenant, meeting his cold blue eyes that were hidden beneath the hood. He ruffled his wings, a subtle warning that told her it would be in her best interest to rein in her temper and answer the question. She nodded, her voice now calmer, the malice in it gone, "Most of you know how long I have lived. I was there when the Usurpation War began. As to how I knew about the existence of the Zerg, it is no different from knowing how many women one of us had been cozening to his bed."

Chuckles echoed in the darkness.

"I have, in my possession, records from the days when the Tech-priests discovered that the Zerg were psychically sensitive and had the ability to break down their own genetic code. To what they transformed into was an answer provided only when they used their Ghost operatives to fillet the drone's 'memories'.

"The drones were the workers of the Hive Cluster whose main tasks are to gather resources and transform into the bio-buildings that allow the Zerg swarm to strengthen and grow. All of this would be a done via psychic directive relayed by their 'Overmind' or a 'Cerebrate' via a flying, airborne commander known as an 'Overlord'.

"It is through the Zerg's psychic sensitivity that the Dominion would control them. That was why they created the Psi-Emitter. Had they completed it, there would have been nothing on Terra capable of stopping the Zerg swarm. The world would have fallen under Dominion might. Ironically, it was the Psi-Emitter station that caused the biggest hole in the Sa-matra during the closing days of the Usurpation War and brought about the Dominion's defeat. They never had the chance to test their newest weapon."

A quiet silence gripped the Council and the High Priestess sighed quietly. Many a time on the holo-vid, war correspondents from that era kept the memory of the devastation that had been wrought during the two year-war five centuries ago alive. From the bio-weapons attack that left the continent of Zelgardis a fallow desert to the shattering of the country from which would arise the Western Andosian island chain. The culmination of the Usurpation War had been one of the most violent battles in the blood-drenched history of Terra. Led by the traitor general of the Dominion, Chapter Master Shateiel Muhammad Dawnblade of the Celestial Lions Knightly Order and a combined SeeD-Black Guard force broke the through the formidable defences of the Sa-matra star-fort in order to take it down.

The move was nothing short of desperate – and desperation drives men to insane acts of courage when they knew that their backs were to the wall. All the free nations had their backs to the wall – and the apocalyptic space battle saw to thousands of lives joining the millions that had died previously. And before the horrified eyes of billions, the Sa-matra was thrown into the warp. It was a good move on the Chapter Master's part to deny the Dominion or any other country use of both the Sa-matra and the Zerg.Unfortunately, it was not good enough. The High Priestess knew exactly how to bring it back into the material world.

"Most High, are you sure you want to do this? Galbadia is not a nation known for being able to keep its word. Once they have the weapons you promise them, what makes you think they will not throw us aside? We would have outlived our usefulness," a Council member spoke.

"True. Which is why the Psi-Emitter SCT template will be our ace in hand in the event Galbadia decides to break its pact with us. I doubt, however, that Galbadia will betray us. The new president of Galbadia is not like his predecessors – he'll keep his word. After all, Galbadia will want every ally it can get when it challenges the Dominion eventually. The current Emperor of the Dominion may be pacifistic, but there are dozens of his generals who do not share his views despite their loyalty to him. Fear not. I will deal with Galbadia if they choose to break the pact they made with us. All of you will carry out your assigned tasks. When our master returns, we shall the world at his feet and he will reward us well."

"Praise be the Angel of Sacrifice!" the Shadow Council spoke as one, their voices echoing in the ancient darkness.

"May Bhaal walk with you. Now go and do as you have been told," the High Priestess returned as the Council members began filing out of the meeting chambers, leaving her with the members of her Inner Circle. She smiled sardonically. Bhaal was gone for eleven thousand years and the only thing the long-dead Daemon Prince left behind had been a black legacy that terrified generations long before the Age of Chaos ever began. The High Priestess turned her cerulean gaze upon a member of the Inner Circle, "I may have met with Richter Deling, but I have little knowledge of what has happened during the Parliament meeting he had attended. I know bits and pieces from the local populace but I'll need you to fill me in."

The Inner Circle member she addressed stepped forward, "I think you already know by now that President Deling is attempting to salvage the fallout of the disaster that his brother had nearly caused when he allied himself with the Sorceress. For this past year alone, Galbadia has been strengthening their grip on their off-world colonies in order to prevent any secessionist and rebel groups from taking advantage during the transition. He has succeeded in that endeavour, at least.

"You have met him, Most High, and thus I think you have come to the conclusion that Richter Deling is no different from his brother. Both want power. But whereas Vinzer was a fool, Richter Deling isn't."

"Perceptive."

"The new president of Galbadia knows that playing his cards now is to invite disaster. He does not have the support of his country's Warmaster and can no longer rely on the support of the Archangel Duchy. With public opinion of the Deling Family lower than ever, it will not take much to incite a revolt. Richter Deling will not risk it by supporting the expansionist factions within the Parliament that he covertly supports. It will seem that the thirst for power and expansion is not limited to Galbadia alone. The Archangel Duchy wants to return to the old days when they were the pre-eminent power on Terra. The Midnight Kingdom longs for the same dream.

"Salvanna Shaladrin does not have the influence that Amaleth of the Duchy has. The latter has a solid power base, politically and otherwise. It is clear, however, that what he has done during the Parliamentary meeting has displeased many members of the Council of Elders in his homeland. Emperor Aldrus is…fuming, to put it mildly. The nationalist groups are quite literally seething in anger at what they consider a 'betrayal'. I would believe that Amaleth has received a good number of death threats or that he anticipates the danger his actions have brought upon him and his family. Some of my informants have reported to me saying that he has sent out his retainer to secure a bodyguard for his daughter who is studying in the Andosian Federation."

"Is he? Now this is interesting."

Indeed, the High Priestess saw an opportunity to sow the seeds that could lead to Galbadia's ascension – and hers as well. The first seal of the Prophecy had already been broken, and the prelude of the fall of Sorceress Ultimecia had already come to pass. She had studied the Prophecy texts for many centuries, never finding when the signs would come into perfect alignment – until now. The closest it had ever come had been five hundred years ago during the Usurpation War. All the signs had been there save one – there had been no Sorceress slain within two decades of that era.

The thought of the Daughters of Hyne brought up a very good question about what to do with the current Sorceress who had inherited the might of Ultimecia. No doubt, Garden Balamb was keeping a tight lid on the fact that the lover of their Commander was a Sorceress. If the other Gardens heard about it, they would scream bloody murder. And the most delicious thing was this – she was the daughter of Galbadia's Warmaster. If General Caraway had a weak spot in his armour, it came in the form of his only child.

Should anything happen to Rinoa Heartilly, it would well rouse a sleeping dragon to a titanic fury. Richter was furious with Caraway for pulling the rug from under him – more so than he was with Amaleth – and his daughter's death would serve both her and Richter Deling. One, she would remove a possible obstacle – no, it was a major obstacle – to her plans. Two, it would send Galbadia's Warmaster into Richter's camp. If she planned the murders meticulously, she could pin the blame right onto the shoulders of the Imperial Dominion. There were a good number of Richter Delings within the Dominion who wanted the nations of Terra to be united under the Dominion banner and if Galbadia declared war on them, it would give the Dominion the excuse to come out in a holy war.

The High Priestess of the Shadow Council smiled chillingly as her mind contemplated the byzantine affair she had laid out. Plans within plans to the ultimate aim of her ascension as a Goddess. Not even dominion over the entire planet or the entire system could compare to becoming an immortal, all-powerful Goddess.

"Most High, there is one other thing I think you might like to know. I did some investigation on the Bhaalspawn bloodlines – and I have some interesting results you might want to see."

"Oh? Show me."

Balamb City, Forester's Bar, same day and time

Seifer entered the bar where his posse waited for him while he had been training on the fields outside of Balamb, slashing and parrying with Hyperion as though blocking strikes from an invisible foe he imagined to be Squall. It had been like this, he had remembered, when both of them had gotten their scars. When Squall performed his Renzokuken, and he had unleashed the might of his Fire Cross. The skies had been dark with storm clouds, unlike today, when he had trained in the light of the setting sun that glowed gloriously across the heavens. He sheathed Hyperion in its scabbard, feeling the comfortable, familiar weight of his trusted weapon at his side.

I will be better than you, Squall. The next time, I shall defeat you.

Memories raced across Seifer's mind and he called for a drink. The bartender's eyes, as were every other man and woman's in the bar, were on the holo-vid, their eyes wide with shock. Seifer shouted, "Bartender!"

The man whirled around and looked at Seifer.

"Are you deaf? I asked for a drink."

"I'm sorry. What would you like?"

Though he disliked the tastelessness of water, Seifer knew that after the intensity of his training, it was perhaps the most advisable course of action. Taking alcohol would only make him thirstier.

"Water, and pull a jug with it."

The bartender left, and returned an instant later with his order. The bartender's eyes returned to the holo-vid, where he watched a reporter of the Continental News Network. Seifer saw Raijin and Fujin sitting on one of the tables, equally immersed in the small holo-vid on the table. He took the jug of cold water and the cup, and moved over to join them.

"What is so interesting that you did not notice me?"

Both of them jumped at Seifer's voice. Usually, it would be Raijin who would answer in his atypical stammers and excuses. But, this time, it was Fuujin who answered.

"WATCH." and indicated the holo-vid.

Seifer poured the cup and sat down as his eyes looked at the holo-vid. The CNN reported, a woman, was virtually shouting amidst the wails of ambulances and fire-engines that was desperately fighting the fire from expanding. He could see medics and orderlies treating the wounded, whose screams were deafened by the sounds of explosions from burning fuel tanks.

"This is Martina Severindale of the CNN, reporting live from the Ishtarian military base of Shining Hill, where an attack had recently taken place some six hours ago. The Ishtarians are still fighting the fires that have been caused by a long-range missile bombardment, and there have been hundreds killed in the assault."

The main CNN HQ correspondent asked, "Martina, has the commander been available for comment on this surprise assault?"

"Unfortunately, no. The infiltration force that had entered this base to mark the key buildings for the bombardment within Shining Hill had also gunned down the general and his family in cold blood. The guards within the Command Centre that acted as the residence of the Ishtarian General, Trevor, said that they had heard nothing - neither gunfire nor their screams."

"What?"

"Yes, Alfred. The Ishtarian General who was in charge of the campaign against Aphrodia, and his family, have been murdered. Sources say that it could have been an elite team of Aphrodian Commandos, but others say that it was a SeeD mercenary force."

"SeeDs? Are you sure? Which Garden? Balamb? Strider?"

"From what eyewitnesses and survivors of the bombardment said, I can only confirm that they were SeeDs. As to what Garden, I cannot say."

"How did they manage to escape?"

"Eyewitnesses say that five mobile suits - four Zakus, and one Leynos Assault Suit - flew in accompanying a dropship. They had unleashed a withering barrage and took out the Ishtarian mobile suits," Martina indicating the burning and wrecked robotic giants as the holo-camera followed her hand, its side completely blown away by railgun rounds, "that had been entrenched. Its pilots had been caught off guard, and even the one who was standing on duty could not warn his fellows in time when they came in. They were picked off within moments! The turrets had gotten off a few shots, but the Leynos had stood back and picked off each pillbox with seemingly blind ease.

"The security forces had rushed to the area to repel what they thought was the prelude to a sea-borne invasion. And hear this, the missile turrets did not open fire upon the advancing mobile suits as they flew in! Neither did the anti-missile system open fire when the Death Hands of Aphrodia incinerated half of the base! The remaining officers suspect that it had been sabotaged."

"Now, Martina, can you tell me - or at least - have one of the survivors try to describe the scene or show it to us via his in-built camera if he is a marine?"

"I can try."

The reporter ran towards a limping stormtrooper who was being supported by a medic and another soldier. He was a bloody mess and the side of his armour showed a wound that had nearly sent him into Astrophel's embrace. His remaining arm clutched the melted wreckage of what had been a hellgun.

"I'm sorry, but could you tell our viewers what exactly had happened here and who was responsible?" the reporter shouted, her voice deafened by wailing sirens, shouts and explosions. The medic and the stormtrooper's compatriot glared at Martina furiously, "The man is injured, reporter. This is not a good time!"

"Please sir, just a few words. What happened here?" the question shouted into the half-conscious soldier's ear. Despite his terrible state, he managed to hear the reporter and looked right into the eyes of audiences on and off Terra, chilling the hearts of many. It was the gaze of a man who had seen Hell first-hand and who had the privilege of meeting the Daemon Princes personally. From the wounds, he may just have done that. His voice was hoarse, and it was clear he was in a delirium, "We…tried to stop…him, sir. We tried…but he was so fast…and blood was everywhere…and…" and the stormtrooper collapsed, the ruined rifle he clutched slipping from his hands as he fell into a coma. The medic cursed as the soldier slumped. Turning to the other soldier, "We've got to get him to the nearest medical facility, quick or he'll die of blood loss."

"The nearest facility is…" the soldier shouted back and was cut off by a lieutenant shouting for everyone to take cover, his voice loud even amidst the shouts, "Take cover! The fuel tanks are going to go!"

The reporter was tackled by her own cameraman as she fell with a shriek, the camera the latter held giving the viewers a last look of the explosion that rocked the entire base before static blanked out the screen as it crashed onto the concrete road.

"Martina?" the newsman called, "Martina, are you there?" There was evident fear in his voice. He turned back to the camera, and spoke, his voice trembling, "We have currently lost contact with our correspondent in the Ishtarian base. We will get back to you as soon as possible. We'll now go for a commercial break as we attempt to re-establish communications with Martina Severindale."

Seifer turned towards his compatriots, "So? Ishtar and Aphrodia have been at war for ten years. This does not surprise me."

"It shouldn't, chief. But, the big guy and his family murdered? That ain't right."

"In war, there isn't a right or a wrong," Seifer snapped, "There is only the victor and the corpse."

Balamb Garden, students' quarters, same day and time

Squall Leonheart watched the news, as he surveyed the destruction. Even though it was limited by the camera view, he knew that the devastation was enormous. The Aphrodians had launched Death Hands, that deadly multiple-warhead heavy missile that had power enough to bring down a carrier, upon the base which SeeDs from another Garden had painted for destruction. Squall was not surprised that General Trevor had been slain, for the SeeDs who had orders to do so were paid to carry them out. What surprised and chilled him however, was the cold-blooded murder of the man's wife and his innocent children. But, despite this, he knew that the SeeD who carried it out was merely obeying orders. The cold, black heart of the SeeD mercenaries the world round was embodied in this act of pure...terrorism, for the lack of a better description. The cold, murderous heart of the SeeD organisation was hidden beneath the friendly, amiable facades of the young men and women who made up its ranks. It was known throughout Terra that the SeeDs were – and are still – the lords of the battlefield.

The irony of it was that a majority of the SeeDs were born on such battlefields. Its gleaming ranks were drawn from orphanages on and off Terra, the recruitment posters on every such institution promising a life outside of multiple foster homes and the chance to make a destiny of their own. It is, without question, a cruel destiny. Human rights activists and organisations have long cried bloody murder over the SeeD organisation's founding a thousand years ago; those cries have yet to abate and grew with intensity with each passing century. The organisation had no right whatsoever to turn young orphans into killing machines.

Choose your path – or someone will choose it for you.

And therein lies the irony of it all – the children the organisation recruited came from those who were willing to become SeeDs. There was no contract made in blood the moment they entered the orphanages. To become a SeeD was the choice of the individual.

And sometimes, there was never much of a choice.

The choice of a certain death and a probable death was but a slender division. Squall knew more than a few SeeDs who had this choice presented before them. These individuals were dangerous, even for a SeeD, and they often – though not always – formed the elite vanguard of a Garden. Even Squall had to admit that the choices offered to him had not been so difficult. Even so, he could not control the outcome of the choices he made. The SeeD commander laid his gunblade on his bed and stripped his sweaty training garments from his body. A brief look at the nearby mirror told him all he needed to know about his life. Lean, muscular and scarred from the long years spent on countless battlefields and tested against a Daughter of Hyne. He ran a hand on one such scar. It was but a faint memory now, but Squall could still remember the chilling frost that not only turned his blood to ice, but sent a soul-deep chill that pronounced Astrophel's Judgement. Rinoa's scream, Ultimecia's cold sun-gold eyes, the mocking laughter of Seifer, the screams of the crowd…all of that was seared into Squall's soul.

And that moment was ever so clear…

The door's musical chime broke him out of his thoughts, alerting him to the presence of a familiar person who would come to take him to dinner, as was her daily tradition, before he missed it. Squall glanced at the holo-vid as the connection with the CNN reporter at Shining Hill was lost in a sea of static before the scene switched to the newsroom. The newsman, Alfred, was clearly worried as he turned to face the camera once more. Squall turned off the holo-vid before he called out, "Enter."

The door hissed open to reveal Rinoa, standing there in a SeeD uniform. She had a playful smile on her face that he found comforting. It was a smile that could, for a brief moment, make him forget his troubles. Rinoa strode into the room, the light within bringing out the chocolate highlights in her raven-coloured hair. It was longer now, Squall noticed, and Rinoa was starting to look more and more like Matron – though she lacked the latter's refined demeanour. She had matured much and yet there were some parts of her that never changed.

"Like my new outfit?"

Squall's straight-slashed lips curved upwards in the fraction of a smile that she caught. "I knew you would. Dress up. It's time we met Zell and the others for dinner."

He nodded, "Some privacy, if you don't mind."

"Oh, but I do," she giggled. Squall gave her a glare that spoke volumes of his annoyance. He knew that the sight of him without his shirt on was enough to make girls – and no few women – drool over him. And being his girlfriend, Rinoa had the privilege of seeing the whole thing – something which made many of them insanely jealous.

"If you do not leave, I will deposit you on your backside outside my door."

Rinoa pouted. Squall never made empty threats – even though his grey eyes were laughing. Either she left with grace and dignity to allow him to change, or else.

"Meanie," she fired back, but her eyes too were laughing with that familiar amusement as she left, the door hissing shut behind her, "I'll meet you in the canteen."

Squall saw her off before moving towards the shower. His mind was focused, however, upon the news event. Even amongst the SeeDs, the Ishtarian fortress of Shining Hill was a legend onto itself. It had earned a well-deserved reputation for being nearly impregnable and the endeavour of levelling the base had cost many military commanders dearly. Even in the days of the Second Dragon Campaign, the mere mention of Shining Hill was a bitter lesson to the commanders of the Imperial Dominion about underestimating the sheer firepower and courage of its garrison. It was a lesson that the Aphrodian frontier commanders have learnt time and time again.

Direct force and normal infiltration methods left the Aphrodian military one alternative to perform the impossible task of levelling Shining Hill and smashing its impregnable legend – hire SeeDs. There was no question that they hired the best. The aftermath was more than proof of that – that and the fact that Aphrodia had succeeded in the endeavour of killing the Shining Hill legend. This was one incident Ishtar would not take lying down. Sooner or later, Ishtar would retaliate.

He started drying himself. The other matter was the Garden Student Exchange Program. Sometime late next week, representatives from Gardens on and off Terra would meet within Garden Balamb. Selphie had taken charge of the whole affair with her typical cheer. Squall expected close to 300 guests within the Garden and he hoped that there would be enough space. He sighed. Rinoa was helping Selphie – the chances of it being a failure was remote.

Esthar Presidential Palace, 1830 hrs, 24th July 4051

Laguna had watched the news in abject fascination. He had heard of Shining Hill's potent defences, but never had he ever dreamt of the scale of the devastation that had been unleashed. The sight was one he was familiar with. The sight of dead bodies, the burning buildings, the screams and moans of the badly injured, the wreckage of military vehicles and the fused, molten skeletons of mobile suits - he knew all of this when he once served in Galbadia's army. It was still happening out in the borderland province of Legland in the Dollet Dukedom. The news spoke much of the latest happenings around the globe. There was a war raging still between Ishtar and Aphrodia, which had lasted for ten years, and which may yet continue. Ishtar's ambition had forced the war, and Galbadia's ambition to unite the continent had sparked off the conflict with Dollet. Even though the latter had embassies of both Ishtar and Aphrodia, the two ambassadors simply refused to speak to each other. One viewed the other as a traitor, the other viewed the Ishtarian ambassador, Odessa, as an example of the megalomania of Ishtar.

Laguna strode over to the shelf of drawers in his room, and opened up the highest level, within which held a picture he had cherished over the years. Of when he had been younger, more foolish - and had been married to Raine. His looks, now as then, were still dashing, but lacking in the cold fire that burned in his son, Squall. Yes, the boy was growing up into a fine young man, without his help or Raine's.

But, he wanted Squall to stop hating him. But...how can he ask such a thing? By dint of his choice, he abandoned his son to save his only daughter. And Squall hated him for that. For abandoning his mother and him. For one wrong that can never be righted. Raine had died giving birth to Squall, and she refused to give him his father's family name and gave him hers instead. To the eyes of some, Squall was Laguna's bastard.

Few people lost more than their consciousness when Laguna was through with them.

Laguna had watched Squall carefully when he had travelled with his son, fought alongside him. Always, he seemingly fought alone, even though if he was in the company of others. But when his team-mates were around, he fought with synchronicity that was borne out of years of training. Squall had been colder than ice, and could even freeze it, until Rinoa came along. She was the image of Julia Heartilly, Laguna's first love, before General Caraway married her. Warm and gentle, yet teasing and caring, she had managed to break the ice with her free-spirited ways, and drew Squall into the soft, warm embrace of her wings. She had been described by more than one as an angel princess. Yes, the title suited her, much as it suited Raine.

He laid the picture back into the drawer, and drew in a deep breath. He never had much time to think about his son, the past, Ellone, his mistakes...Raine. Damn it.

"Papa?" a voice called out from outside his door as Ellone stepped in. She was a feminine image of Squall, her features gentler and far more lively, her hair cut short like some fairy out of a children's story book.

"Yes?"

"I'm here the fetch you for dinner. Uncle Kiros and Uncle Ward have been waiting for you for the past half hour already."

"I'll be there in a minute."

Ellone stepped in, and it was as though she could smell Laguna's thoughts and dreams in the wind that blew in from the open window. "Are you thinking about Squall, father?"

Laguna remained quiet.

"Not exactly."

"Don't lie, father. You were never good at it. Don't worry. Squall can take care of himself," Ellone smiled, "He always has. By and by, did you see the news today? Kiros and Ward are quite literally glued to the television."

That wasn't a revelation. Shining Hill - one of Ishtar's most formidable border strongholds - destroyed and decimated overnight, was something that would awe even his two compatriots. He still had trouble believing that it had actually happened. "I'll try to catch the nine o' clock news. Maybe, they would have managed to re-contact their correspondent there. I'm curious on who had actually done this."

"Could it have been Squall's…?"

"Don't talk rubbish, Ellone. Squall is not a murderer. He may be hard but he is not a cold-blooded killer."

"Not yet."

"Ellone…what are you saying?"

"I'm just worried, father. Sometimes…I have bad dreams about Squall becoming what SeeD is renowned for."

Laguna stood up and put a hand on his stepdaughter's shoulder, "Don't worry, Ellone. Squall won't become like me when I was younger. There is a leash by the name of Rinoa to keep the wolf chained."

"But, Squall is not you, father. Rinoa is not Auntie Raine."

"Yes, Squall is not me. And that is why he is stronger. It is only a nightmare, Ellone. As long as Balamb Garden keeps silent about what Rinoa is, it should be all right," Laguna smiled.

HQ Sector Scorpion Command Centre, city of New Tanis, Aphrodia, 1900 hrs

"I am very pleased with your work, Lady Malevolyn," the fat general spoke, looking at the auburn-haired half-wingly up and down in a lascivious way that made a feeling of cold disgust writhe within the SeeD's stomach. It was all Jaheira could do not to sneer in disgust. Her second-in-command stood next to her, less menacing outside his black power armour. He was clad much like her, wearing the durable robes of her Garden that had been adapted by the Holy Orders of the Church of Hyne. The only main difference was that instead of crosses, the robes were adorned with the menacing sigils of Falaris's Ministry of Darkness. One hand rested upon the hilt of a katana that did not make the armed guards within the room any less comfortable. Jaheira followed in his example, bringing her power sword with her to the meeting with the Aphrodian general.

"To think that you could have killed him and his entire family, without any of the guards knowing you were there was utterly delicious. I can almost see his expression. I don't think he could believe that you had managed to penetrate that deep into Shining Hill! Ha!"

Jaheira glanced at her second. Not a hint of expression marred his icy façade and the gaze that he levelled the general was flat and emotionless. It was a contrast to the expression he wore on the dropship as they escaped from Shining Hill instants before Aphrodia's Death Hand missiles struck the targets the infiltration team had painted. Such was the look of self-loathing and rage on his face that even the cheerful and lively catgirl who piloted the dropship, Imoen Kiske, left him alone. If the Death Hands had levelled half the base, the sheer scale of her second's fury would have levelled it completely.

How his call-sign and his birth-name contradicted each other. Jaheira's blue eyes drifted to the sheath where his name was engraved in gold upon the varnished wood. Its intricate words spelt her second's birth name in Kamiyan – Reiha Shigami – even though it was Darmenian in origin and after the name of the Imperial Dominion's most reviled traitor.

"And you, Captain Spiritblade, live up to both your reputation and your call-sign. Many of my men say that you are a cold-hearted bastard who carries out your orders without question. The completion of the Shining Hill mission clinches that argument. I don't care what they say – a man who can think for himself and yet carry out my orders is a man who has earned himself a place in my good books. You have done well."

A muscle in Jaheira's face twitched, and she quickly suppressed the rage in her before her sharp tongue went out of control. Her second-in-command responded to the compliment with a simple nod – a gesture that told Jaheira that he wanted to be out of the general's office before he proceeded to carry out the unspoken threat of carving the general into small pieces.

Jaheira shared her second's desire to leave as well.

"As to the matter of our payment, general," she asked, "When will it be given to us? You have delayed "

The general looked nervous. "Well, there has been a slight delay due to..."

He was cut short as Shateiel's katana lashed out with a speed beyond human and slammed through the seat, stopping a mere hair's breadth from decapitating the general. The stroke was like a thunderclap, and Jaheira knew that it was but a simple matter to finish the job. Shateiel was looking for the excuse to kill him, and he may just get it if the general so much as produced another excuse. The guards had their weapons out and the barrels of multiple hellpistols were pointed at his back. A slight twitch of the blade had the general waving his hand frantically to his guards to put away their weapons.

"Tell me, general," Shateiel spoke in an icy voice, "Do you want to die? Your government has hired us for the job and has promised to pay us without delay once the mission was completed. See to it that our payment is given to us before we leave Aphrodia, general."

He drew closer in closer, "Because if you do not – I will personally see to it that you join General Shorefeld and his family in hell. Do I make myself clear?"

The general swallowed a lump in his throat and realised that he had been holding his breath. He spoke through lips that had turned dry from sheer terror, "Yes."

With a simple flick of his wrist, Shateiel withdrew his katana and sheathed it, "Good. Now, to other matters."

Ishtarian High Command, Capital of the Ishtarian Empire, Ishtar City, 2300 hrs

"Are you sure that what I am seeing is real?" Commander Vince Dallard asked, watching the footage from the destruction of Ishtar's most potent border stronghold of Shining Hill, several minutes before the Death Hands of Aphrodia had decimated the base. The footage he was seeing had yet to be revealed to the general public, and the commander of Ishtar wanted to make sure that if it were to be revealed, it would be censored - heavily.

The Ishtarian Gundam mobile suits had been an SCT-built for durability under any condition, and was as good a design as the Zaku, but its only disadvantage was that the M15 Railgun had shorter range than the Zaku's M13 Railguns. The only advantage the Gundam had over the Zaku was in close combat, for the former incorporated a massive NeoSteel shield. But, it obviously did not work against the Leynos's Deathwind artillery cannon. The other reason that the SeeDs mobile suits came into the installation almost without resistance bespoke of the fact the mobile suit pilots on duty had been slacking - an offence, in this case, that would have led to an immediate court-martial. Fortunately for them, they were already dead in the first moments of the assault. The other thing that disturbed Dallard was that the SeeDs' mobile suits flew into Shining Hill without being detected by the radar and scanners.

Someone had sabotaged the communications and radar equipment. Even the missile turrets on the shores did not fire. Also, Dallard knew that there had been a malfunction in three of the missile turrets on the north-eastern side of the base, and from the inspection team, they had reported that the sandstorm had caused several of them to short. The rest, however, had been working. So, why only these three within this particular area?

The answer hit him with the force of a full-swung warhammer.

The SeeDs had penetrated the perimeter by knocking out three of the sentry systems, and making it look like it was disabled by the sand-storm's EMP!

He saw five SeeDs escaping as they charged out towards a quickly descending dropship, guarded by the five mobile suits. The Leynos landed and turned the huge Deathwind Cannon on the nearby aircraft carrier and blasted a huge hole in it. A roar within bespoke of the Deathwind round detonating the stored missiles and ammunition within the carrier. They fought their way out, weapons blazing, running for the dropship. Men and women dropped like flies from the disciplined volley they laid out, and pinned the rest. The Vulcan cannons mounted on the mobile suits flashed, laying down covering fire. One of the security force's LAVs, equipped with a twin-linked lascannon, raced towards the dropship. The crewmember, he could tell, intended to cut off the SeeDs' only chance to escape. The LAV was aiming its lascannons at the dropship as his team-mate used his driving skills to elude the rain of fire from one of the mobile suits' Vulcan cannons.

One of the SeeDs who had been firing a bolter that he had taken from a slain marine that laid in a bloody heap before him became aware of the imminent threat, no doubt reported by the mobile suit SeeD pilot who was having a hard time eliminating it. Dallard zoomed in on the footage. The man was clad in a suit of Mark IV power armour that was a relic of the Usurpation War.

His head, hooded, turned towards the imminent threat, and Dallard felt his blood freeze. Even though he could not see the SeeD's eyes, he could sense the terrible, murderous intent that was soon proven true. Briefly, the man stopped firing, as one of his comrades rushed forward and covered him, pinning down the squad of soldiers he had been occupied with. He raised one talon-shaped, armoured hand, and Dallard saw sinuous, curling amethyst crystal that stretched along it and tore out the enormous power weapon from the body of the slain soldier. The crystals on the gauntlet lit up with an unholy light before streaks of black lightning streaked across the great, bloodied weapon and smashed the incoming vehicle into flaming wreckage, making a mockery of the LAV's plasteel armour. Even as the vehicle was destroyed, Dallard swore he heard a peal of maniacal - near joyous -laughter mingling with the explosion and the deafening sounds of gunfire.

There, the footage ended as a piece of the LAV the black-hearted SeeD had destroyed smashed into the security camera. But, the feeling of terror that he masked with an expression of indifference did not fade with the end of the footage. Five SeeDs. All it took was five SeeDs to destroy one heavily-guarded military installation and slaughter a general and his family in cold blood.

And, no doubt, those cold-hearted bastards in Aphrodia had used a lot of Gil to hire these SeeDs. But, in the end, the Aphrodian rebel government had succeeded in their endeavour of not only destroying the near-impregnable base of Shining Hill but also killing one of Ishtar's most prominent commanders. So be it.

Aphrodia was not the only government that could play this game.