Cookies: Anna made sure that Issac had no x-ray attachments, she didn't want him perving on her sisters. Gold can by the funds to transmute some, remember what Edward Elric has taught us. Colby is everywhere now, he was even mentioned in the outrealm chapter of Order and Chaos, along with a minor mention of Vincent and an appearance from the Faraday- Gaius and the Cassidy- Anna, and Jett Cassidy who sadly will never be in IE. As for Lyrenne, you'll have to ask Cormag, I believe she's a little older than Reno being a mentor of sorts, who is weaker for some reason although the Dain blood and Aether may explain that. Harmony's rabbit form will hopefully get proper justice soon, although that depends on which one of us writes the action scene. Trust me, if this was a one person fic it would probably never get updated.

Ace: Reno would probably throw Isaac into a wall or something, taking it as some form of insult on his intelligence/ignorance due to Isaac's hatred of pirates being well known. Colby is in every outrealm, hell, if he appears much more I wouldn't be surprised if he started having cameos in the actual games as an in-joke.

Cormag, "You know my next avatar is going to be called Colby!"

Chast: You nailed it on the head, but I won't say which one. Since pirates could swim in the main games, I'm tempted to give those with the space pirate class the ability to swim through space, although that's already a given for Colby.

Disclaimer: We do not own Fire Emblem.

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Nocht pov

1 year later

We entered the halls of Triple A. I had never expected to see this place again, although I guessed that I never expected to see the place in such a state of disrepair, either. While all the air seals were intact, that was about it. Nothing was completely destroyed, but massive scratches and burn marks lined the halls, Einherjars could be seen rushing to make repairs.

Beowolf walked towards us, giving a greeting "Well, I expected to see your children here eventually, but I thought they would be a little older by that time." We called him a week prior to our trip here. Jett's leave was finished, so we would have to leave our precious daughter Gaea somewhere else. Already, the girl was growing a small bob of red hair that clashed with her purple eyes, a black brand in her left.

We would have left them with my parents, but as former crewmen of starship Morgan, they were prime targets of the Plegians they had defeated twenty years ago. Our response to this was to offer to take them to the academy as well, but they had joined with Hawke's father in order to protect Southtown in the case of an assault. They knew they would probably die in the attack, but they would rather die fighting then watch civilians be slaughtered.

Which left the academy. The place was certainly not exempt from attack, but at the very least it was safer than most other places. In addition, the academy was currently closed as a result of the attack, and no competent army would attack a fortress filled with Einherjars just to get to a manakete and five to ten instructors.

Immediately after Jett handed Gaea to Beowolf, the headmaster began to coddle the child, letting out coos of "Aren't you the cutest little hellspawn? Yes you are." and Gaea giggled in response.

I leaned over towards Artemis and whispered "Art, what the hell am I looking at?"

"Uncle Beowolf had a wife and children of his own once. Sadly, both the children were branded, so he was left alone after a few centuries." The manakete branded, while having a much larger lifespan than normal humans and taguel branded, did not share nearly the lifespan of the manekete and the laguz branded. They shared an average of about two to three centuries, with the oldest recorded branded living until his 660's. "Please don't bring it up around him. The time brings up some bad memories for him."

"Reminds you of you own parenthood, eh, Beowolf?" Ken'su asked, throwing Artemis' plea right out the window. The swordmaster had been placed on our ship's crew as an advisor over our mission. The man was as skilled as our entire team combined, but he didn't quite make up for the small army we honestly needed for such a task if things went south, and the gods knew we had poor we would at least make some allies in the people at our destination.

"Ah, Ken'su. I see you haven't withered away quite yet. I believe the last time I saw you was about… four years ago? I apologize if that's off, my age is starting to show. I'm almost five thousand now, It's a wonder I was able to even make it out of that battle alive. I suppose it helped that only two of their men were particularly competent."

"Yes, four years. That was the last tournament before Artemis and Victoria caught your attention. I wish I had been in that tournament, but I suppose if I had then I would have pulled her out. Besides, even if I hadn't had that pointless stance on keeping her away from fighting, I would have simply taken the spotlight away from my daughter and her friend." Normally, Artemis and Victoria would object to this. However, it's difficult to object to the words of someone who could take you down without even drawing his blade.

"I'm glad you eventually agreed. The peaceful life just doesn't suit the exalted bloodline, or any manakete for that matter. Even the descendants of Grima tend to provide aid, even if it's in a shady manner behind the scenes."

"Are you calling saving the entire galaxy's asses shady? Because that's exactly what we've been doing for the past few millennia!" I responded, indignant.

"And who's always on the frontlines?" Beowolf said in a sneer.

"Um, anyway!" Hawke began to tug on my clothing, and Lyrenne, Harmony, and Reno began to rush the others out "We should probably go, we have a long trip to Elibe!"

"Gaea! I'm sorry, mommy's gotta leave for now, but we'll be back, okay? Good luck, sweetie!" Jett cried out.

"Daddy'll come for you as soon as he can beat down those big bad Plegians!" I yelled before turning to Beowolf. "You better damn well take care of my daughter!"

"Don't worry." Beowolf said. "I'll treat her as if she were my apprentice. She'll never have to worry about anything but her parents under my care. I expect you all to be back before she's old enough to start missing you!"

And with that we entered the ship.

XXXXXXXX

Somewhere on the planet Valor, in the star system of Elibe, there was a meeting.

This was no ordinary meeting. It consisted of nine people, or rather, nine warriors from Elibe.

Each warrior represented a planet of Elibe, a section of Dragonslayers. And they seldom got along or agreed on anything.

Except for when slaying dragons was involved. And with the Plegians and Lopt Sect's war on Ylisse, that definitely got their attention.

The first to arrive was the first of the Council of Eight. She was from Lycia, land of the holy sword Durandal. It had been ages since the divine weapons had been used so as to not diminish their powers. The dragonslayer from Lycia, Rolanda, was a tall woman in contrast to her namesake, Roland, one of the Eight Legends. She had blue hair since she hailed from Ostia within Lycia. She was the third in line for the Ostian throne, after her two older brothers. Just like her bloodline had been known for, she had a hard resolve and strong moral compass.

The second to arrive was the delegation from Bern, the militant land. It was home to two divine weapons, the Sword of Seals and Eckesachs. The Bernese delegate, Lord Zepher, wasn't a tall man, but he wasn't short either. He had a broad physical stature. His short yellow hair and light beard drew his age at a stark contrast between his and Rolanda's. Zepher was about forty, fairly old for a Dragonslayer, whereas Rolanda was rather yound at twenty seven. Lord Zepher was cousin to the current King of Bern, and Duke of a large part of Bern. Unlike his bloodline, Zepher was not an aggressive man towards those of Elibe, only towards Dragons. He was actually good friends with Rolanda and the majority of the Council.

The two nodded at each other as they took their seats out of the nine chairs around the round table and waited for the rest of the fellow councilmen and women.

Third to arrive was an unexpectedly early man. Clubs was a giant of a man, larger than how the records depicted Durbans. He was completely bald and in his thirties. Out of the entire Council, he was the only one to have used his repective divine weapon in his lifetime, Armads. The man almost never spoke, leaving most to not understand the man from Caledonia. Caledonia was made up of what used to be the Western Islands on the original Elibe. But Clubs was a great warrior, according to the battles he'd been in.

As expected, he ignored Rolanda and Zepher and merely sat quietly staring at the table, as if deep in thought.

Soft footsteps announced the next arrival. Siphira of the desert planet Nabata announced her arrival her air of elegance. She had pale purple hair and was thirty, the second youngest in the Council and heir to Forblaze. She was not well liked among the Council, for she was always slow to act and in favor of trying to understand the dragons that the Council slayed. It was through sheer power that she was among the Council, she was the inheritor of Athos' secrets that had been passed down from master to apprentice for generations. Plus, as Rolanda had finely put it once, Siphira was a stuckup bitch.

Ostian insults at their finest.

"Clubs," she acknowledged. The man in question didn't even look at her and she shook her head angrily and sat down.

"Siphira," Zepher politely nodded to the younger woman.

"I did not greet you, old man," she said scathingly.

Zepher nodded, expecting the response. Any remark Rolanda would have made was cut off by the next to arrive.

Quark of Sacae's heavy foot falls echoed off the stone floor of the ancient pavilion. Hailing from the land of Murgleis, the bow of winds, he dressed like a traditional tribesman, and walked in proudly. A younger member of the council, he was thirty three. With dark hair tied in a ponytail, the nomad of Sacae was very proud of his lineage. Something he was eager to point out and justify his opinions with. 'Descendant of Karel this,' 'descendant of Karel that.' Thankfully, he wasn't insane like the man of old had been.

"Fellow Council," he greeted formally. He smiled at Rolanda, Clubs and Siphira. When Zepher smiled at Quark, the man ignored him. Quark unreasonably held dislike for Zepher and any Bernese people due to the brutal subjugation of Sacae 1000 years after the Scouring under King Zephiel.

"Damn it Quark, grow up and forgive Zepher already for something he didn't do," said a new voice. "It wasn't like I had to forgive him, that was eons ago. So be a man."

The sixth arrival was a woman who dressed as a traditional Ilian. Ilia had been brutally subjugated just like Sacae in the war Quark was refrencing. Nightshade had blue hair, like a typical Ilian. Ilia was home to the Maltet, the lance of ice and snow, and Nightshade was its wielder should the time come. At thrity five, she was a very caring person, a deadly foe in battle and close friends with Rolanda and Zepher. The three of them commonly sided on matters of debate. She greeted everyone in the room, though at Quark she simply shook her head.

Rolanda, Zepher and Nightshade all sat next to each other. Quark and Siphira sat next to one another, as since they usually agreed. Siphira because she had a fascination of dragons and Quark because he hated Zepher. And Clubs was just plain unpredictable.

"Am I late?" spoke the seventh arrival.

Father Erkus of Etruria, land of Aureola, the tome of light, entered. He was a short fellow with no remarkable features. He was the oldest on the council, measuring in at an ancient fifty years. He used a Recover Staff to help himself walk from an injury sustained from in his youth. He sat next to Clubs, since he usually had opinions that were all over the place as well. On one hand, he was a man of God. And on the other, he had a hatred for Dragons.

"That makes seven," said the old man lightly. "Just two more."

Nightshade rolled her eyes, "We're educated individuals Father, we can count."

Erkus chuckled merrily as eased into his chair. And that was another thing about Erkus, unless the situation required it, he took almost everything without seriousness.

The last person to arrive made no announcement of their presence. She walked in like a ghost, silently but with a flutter of shaman robes. Darian of Valor and the tome Apocalypse sat at her seat before half of the Council even realized she was there. Bramimond had had no place where he called home, thus every Dragonslayer that followed his path called Valor, the dead planet, their home. Darian had lost part of herself to the darkness long ago, and none remembered how old she was. With purple hair and soft features, she was a silent, but just woman. Darkness had taken away the first half of her memories, and when asked how, she would always respond, "Dragons."

She sat at the last remaining spot at the table. They all glanced at the last chair, the ninth chair in the Council of Eight.

"Looks like you all beat me. That's a first," came a voice from the entrance.

Everyone stood up in respect. It was one point they all agreed on, this man deserved their respect.

Renault walked in, holding his usual staff in hand, the Holy Maiden. It was Elimine's staff, and was the most powerful staff in existance. Some said it could even heal wounds from Divine Weapons. But it was more of a symbol rather than to be used in battle. "Be seated," he commanded to the Council. As the man who was not only the oldest in the known universe, and was the only one who had killed a dragon of old, but he was the head of the Council too. The ninth member of Eight. Even if it was thousands of years ago, dragons then were stronger than they were now and in the eyes of any Dragonslayer, that was enough.

"Let's call this meeting to order," he said, taking his seat.

The Eight nodded and paid attention to their leader. As head, Renault couldn't vote on any decision except in the case of a tie. He actually did no real leading, he just lead the meetings. And handled keeping the Eight in line, for they rarely agreed on anything.

"The reason for this meeting, as you should all know, is because of the Plegian aggression. But most importantly of that, the Lopt Sect. They in particular stand in our way of what we hold most highly in this organization," Renault said. "And it's time to choose a side. Do we strike back against the Plegians and Lopt Sect? Or do we stand by and watch?"

Each member of the Council represented about one thousand people. The Dragonslayers numbered at about eight thousand, but each could be considered in the top five percent of warriors in the universe.

"As since this is our only reason for this meeting, I will keep it brief so we can get back to our respective planets and prepare for what's to come," Renault said. "We shall go around the table, starting with Rolanda."

"I vote for war against Plegia and the Lopt Sect," she delcared immediately. She was an impulsive one, and firm in her beliefs as a Dragonslayer. She gazed around the table, trying to guess where the votes would fall.

Nightshade was next. Rolanda didn't have to consider before mentally placing her vote. "I vote likewise," spoke Nightshade, who was next in line around the table. Rolanda nodded at her, and the Ilian winked back.

Zepher was seated next to Nightshade, and had the next vote. Again, Rolanda didn't have to guess.

Zepher chuckled, "I'm sure you all know what I shall vote, and I vote for war."

Darian was next. Rolanda studied the woman carefully. Darian was unpredictable, and usually swayed either way. But unlike Erkus and Clubs, she could never be swayed from a choice after she had made up her mind. She sat silently for a while before speaking, "I vote no. Let us remain as we are, at peace. This war does not concern us."

Rolanda frowned. While Darian usually took the careful route, Rolanda figured war would be enough to convince her. This was a war that had to do with the Dragonslayer's core beliefs.

Quark fell next in the voting order. He watched Zepher carefully, taking several long moments to seemingly reach a decision.

Quark said, "I agree with Darian."

Rolanda scowled, he only said that because Zepher had voted for war. That bastard. But it wasn't unexpected, and Rolanda had predicted it.

"I agree with Quark," Siphira simply said. Typical of Siphira, for she wished for the days of Arcadia in old Elibe. But the Dragonslayers had put an end to that abomination long ago.

Three to three, Rolanda was on the edge of her seat.

Clubs took several minutes. The rest were used to this, since the man took ages to set on an opinion.

"Nay," spoke Clubs softly. "No more war."

Rolanda held her breath nervously. Clubs knew that any battle could be his last, after holding Armads, his destiny was to meet his end in battle. Every Divine Weapon had its consequences, and that was Clubs' fate. And as far as Rolanda could see, he didn't want to die. Or perhaps he merely wanted to protect Elibe from danger.

Dragonslayers were not the central governing force of the planets of Elibe, but they held extreme influence. If they went to war, it would not be long before the rest of Elibe followed.

Three to Four.

"Father Erkus, the vote is in your hands," Renault prompted.

Erkus stood and cleared his throat while leaning on his staff, "And so the vote falls to me. I am the deciding factor, because Sir Renault's vote will be obvious should it come to a tie breaker. This war is not something that I can condone lightly. Therefore, since it goes against Elimine's teachings, I must vote against war."

Erkus sat down quietly, ignoring the triumphant looks of Siphira and Quark. Clubs merely nodded to Erkus, which the priest returned.

Renault sat quietly for a few moments before saying, "So be it. Meeting adjourned."

Quark and Siphira departed immediately. Clubs left a few moments after them. Erkus hobbled out next, casting a sympathetic look back towards the remaining of the Eight.

"Damn," Nightshade said.

"I must apologize," Darian said. "But war for Valor would not be best for our prospects. My people would lose themselves all too quickly."

"Lady Darian, we understand why you voted as you did. What we do not understand, is Erkus and Clubs," Zepher said.

"Clubs voted because any battle could be his last. He's being selfish," Rolanda said.

"Clubs is not selfish. He merely wants to avoid a war. Times have not been good for Caledonia," Renault said firmly.

Rolanda apologized, "Sorry, I forgot my place."

Renault waved a dismissive hand, "It is no matter. However, the fact that we will sit doing nothing disturbs me. This threat is very real. I advise any of you to try and convince Erkus or Clubs. To win, we must have the first strike, to show the rest of Elibe that we are powerful."

Darian looked down, "I...I must apologize again."

"Darian, stop apologizing," said Nightshade. "You have a reason for voting as you did."

Darian looked down, "Even so, I must take my leave with shame."

The woman departed, leaving only four of the Eight left.

"Ylisseans will be here soon to request for our aid. I cannot stop each of you individually helping, but if you so choose to, make it count," Renault said as he stood up to leave.

The three nodded and stood at attention as Renault left the pavilion.

"Looks like we've got some convincing to do," Rolanda said.

"I shall try to sway Clubs," Zepher said. "I know him better than you two."

"I shall attempt to sway Erkus. Ilians and Etrurians have gotten along well for ages, it may work in our favor," Nightshade said.

Rolanda nodded, "And I'll try a last appeal to Darian. But I can't promise anything."

The three all nodded and went on their respective ways.

XXXXXXXXX

Mimicka pov

"Are you ready to get your ass handed to you on a silver platter?" Hawke asked as he cocked his pistol. We had just arrived in Elibe, and had made our way to an open firing range that was held at the inn we were staying at. The others would probably relax for a while, but Hawke and I would get very few chances to practice marksmanship on a target that wasn't firing back. Magic and swordsmanship could be practiced by oneself or with a partner, but it was pretty much impossible to practice with firearms unless you have a range at hand. You could use bottles for practice, but it just wasn't the same.

"I'd like to see you try." I said with a smirk. "These pistols may not be the only weapons I have to spread my focus on, but I'm not a tactician for nothing, after all."

"Only in name, Nocht does all the strategy."

"Shut it!" I said, aggravated. In the end, only one of us could be labeled as the crew tactician on such a small ship, so I was left with just trap duty. "Okay, range motion level ten, set." I said as I placed it on the highest difficulty. The range boasted a banner stating that the range was on par with one from a space academy. We figured that the best it could actually do was about a five on the Triple A ranges, so we decided to try max level for our competition.

The machines in the range began to whir, and Hawke smirked as he twirled his twin pistols. The machine began to move at an alarming rate, much faster than I expected.

I did my best to keep up, but they were moving at a pace I couldn't keep up with. I managed to hit most of them, but I was moving at such a pace that I could barely even keep up with where I was aiming, missing at least one for every five targets that came by. Several of the ones that I did hit I only grazed. Thankfully, those ones would still count for some points, and they would hopefully have been enough to keep me ahead of Hawke.

Those hopes were ruined the second I saw how Hawke was doing.

Hawke was hitting every single target with immense precision. Even if the hits didn't all hit vitals, any one of them would at the very least have severely wounded the target.

As if that wasn't enough, he was taking this about as seriously as he did everything else: in other words, not at all. He wasn't struggling in any way to make sure he could keep up nor was he putting in the extra effort needed to get all headshots or to hit vitals with each round. Rather, he was treating the session as what it really was: a game. He moved in a rhythm similar as if he were dancing to a song stuck in his head, and was emphasizing some of his shots by adding flourishes and spins before the shot, which meant he was actually slowing himself down. If he were trying as hard as he would in actual combat, none of these targets would be escaping with their heads.

To rub even more salt in the wound, as the last five came Hawke jumped into the air. He flipped and shot three down in the center of their heads before he came around. When he landed, he immediately shot the fourth with his right pistol before doing a three-sixty and firing with the left, nailing the final target in the heart as it was about to exit the range.

Hawke smirked as his screen flashed with a golden "Perfect!" and looked at me, with my 80%.

"How did you even do that?" I asked Hawke.

Hawke shrugged and said "Maybe if you didn't try to use three different weapons you would be able to do the same. What level were you shooting in the range at the academy?"

"Six. What about you?"

"Ten, the only person with a score higher than me was my father, the Juggernaut of Ferox. That range was going at about an eight, so those boasts held at least a little water to them."

"Well, I don't feel so bad about my score now. Wait, your dad is the juggernaut, as in THE Juggernaut? The guy who once took out an entire fleet of Plegian ships with just a one man cruiser and who took out squadrons of soldiers with his minigun, that Juggernaut? Why didn't you tell me when we visited Southtown, I would have gotten an autograph!"

"He doesn't really like all that publicity. That's why he moved to the boonies like Nocht's parents did and why he only took me to the range a few times. His fame could be pretty crush-" Hawke got sidetracked as he saw a blue-haired girl wearing the clothes of an Ostian noble. Hawke most likely knew nothing of her likely upbringing and was most likely focusing more on the woman's assets than anything else. "Damn, that's a nice looking girl!" Hawke said, luckily not so loudly as to catch the woman's attention.

Hawke walked over towards the woman and began speaking, gesturing to his score in an attempt to impress her. Within moments, he angered the woman so much that she slapped him before drawing her blade.

I didn't know what Hawke had done, but it was pertinent that I aid him before he caused an intergalactic crisis.

XXXXXXXXXX

Ok, here's the start of the Elibe arc. Next chapter will probably be late, Cormag's having computer problems, but he's ordering a new one.

Cormag: Yes, very unfortunate. That's why it's almost been a month since IE was updated. But of all the ways the whole situation could have ended, it ended well. I was able to save everything on the computer. But worry not! As soon as I get another one (ordering one tonight) I shall binge write until I have a chapter of IE AND SE done!