Chapter 9: And It All Comes Tumbling Down
Weston peered over the densely unkempt hill, the sun's rays long hidden by the gray miasma. The ground was littered with jaggedly edged metal scraps, shattered weaponry, and the remnants of many broken and lost lives. He then looked to his wounds, remembering where each had come from, two of them fresh and bleeding from this, the final battle.
The weapon in his hand was hot from being fired so many times. It surprised him that it hadn't jammed.
As he fired the last shot into the ground, its empty magazine being shot from the chamber by a spring mechanism, he smirked. "I suppose Al-Bhed ingenuity has outdone even the finest American weapon..."
"Sir, we done here?"
"Looks that way."
"Didn't expect so much...trouble."
"That's what happens when people are easily susceptible to a power hungry lunatic. Lots of death."
"Think its over?"
"I doubt we'll have much more fighting to do, if any. The city secure?"
"Yessir."
"Good. Go ahead and get out of here."
The soldier left Weston to his thoughts. He had been through more than most people would ever experience in their entire life. All Weston could focus on was how the world of Spira had gotten to this state.
--------------------
"Nyka's Army is going for Kilika," the shaken aide told Yuna.
The young Maestress bit her bottom lip in thought, trying to turn away from the most obvious, but deadly choice.
Over the past three months, Nyka had hastily put together an army of former Crusaders and New Yevonites, taking in anyone who wanted to join. From this, he got a force comprised of disgruntled sword bearers and trained military men. However, the majority of the army was the former, seeing as the Crusaders had seemed to take a disliking to Nyka after he lobbied for and eventually won the disbandment of the group. The army had been training for less than a month when the Two Councils pronounced their independence from Yuna's influence and started to move their army, slowly, out of Bevelle, mainly as a recruitment drive. But, recently, reports of non-Yevonites being imprisoned and executed worried Yuna and her compatriots. She had sent a letter begging for Nyka, if these reports -were- true, to desist and go about his business with the etiquette of a Yevon Maester, since the aging man had proclaimed himself so.
Of course, what had started all of this was Nyka posting photos around Bevelle, discrediting Yuna as "wholesome" and proclaiming that not even famous and 'worthy' leaders could be trusted. The fickle Yevonites had bought it hook, line, and sinker and a public outcry spread over Spira to rid Yuna of any credibility she had ever gained. This, once and for all, divided the people of Spira: those with Nyka and those with Yuna.
The plus side to all of this was that, after being treated so horribly by the Yevonites, most of the Crusaders vowed to protect Yuna and her good name. Clashes between the Crusaders and the Yevonites had begun in Bevelle and Spread to Luca and even as far as Kilika. They weren't violent, per say, but they were incredibly disheartening to both peoples, and this only fed the heresy and accusations. In Luca, people were preparing for what the Spherecasters called the "War of Civil Unrest." In Bevelle, people were preparing to send their sons and husbands off to fight for the -true- way, the Yevon way.
Yuna had yet to supply any decent offense to Nyka's actions and the people that sided with the former Summoner were growing weary. Yuna had been pressured to do many things, from striking up a treaty to sending every last Crusader into the heart of Bevelle to kill Nyka.
But, as the situation finally clicked, she made a choice that would shape the rest of this 'conflict'.
--------------------
"Weston?"
"Come in."
Yuna hunched forward, barely making Weston's bulky frame out in the darkness of the house. "I need to ask your advice..."
Weston moved from the corner, his countenance less that 'happy' by a long shot.
"What is it?"
"I've...made a choice. I've just heard now that Nyka is sending his army to Kilika. I...I want them stopped."
Weston nodded, cracking his neck with a tilt of his head. "How big of a force?"
"I don't know."
"Great," Weston sarcastically remarked.
Yuna sighed. "What should I do?"
"I'd recommend matching or bettering his force, but since you don't know what kind of force is coming..."
"I think it's one of his 'Holy Teams'."
"And those are?"
"A group of about...ten men...that basically promote Yevon's will."
"Also known as 'Propagandists' or, if you wanna go technical, a group of men trained to kill those who don't want to do what they tell them to do."
Yuna blinked. Weston saw this and raised a hand, sighing.
"So I should send ten Crusaders there, in my name, to tell them they're not wanted?"
Weston grinned at this. "More or less."
Yuna hmmed in thought, while Weston crossed his arms, waiting for her to say what she needed to.
"Do you think-"
"I'll go."
Yuna smiled. "Thank you."
"I need to get out of the house anyway."
Yuna continued to smile, bowing on her way out.
When the door shut, Weston sighed and dropped into his couch, not really knowing what to expect. He sighed, trying to prepare himself, locking all other thoughts. He didn't think it'd come down to anything more than a verbal fight but, he'd go prepared for the worst.
And thinking of this made him immediately go to his night table, pulling his SOCOM pistol from the drawer. He brought it up to his face, studying it. He pulled the slide back and let go, letting the unloaded gun chamber a phantom round. With the flick of his wrist, the gun shot into the air and the hammer clicked against the phantom primer. Weston knew the shot was on target, and could imagine it busting through his couch's back.
Weston squinted his eyes and set the gun down with a sigh, trying to shake his anxiety, which had been growing since he'd heard Nyka's speech months ago. He was shivering again, which he was increasingly trying to control, but was having trouble doing so.
As he sat down again, he gripped his wrist, watching his fingers flex and grip an imaginary object. He could feel his pulse through his skin as his hand violently shook. Weston continued to squeeze until his hand started to turn purple from loss of blood. With a grunt, he let go and leaned into the back cushion of the couch. He closed his eyes, sighing aloud.
His thoughts wandered to Columbia, and the events in Hong Kong that led him to this 'Spira.' While he had grown accustomed to calling Spira his home, he didn't feel as if he fit in properly, knowing he'd never truly be able to forget where he had come from. Even with a troubled childhood and an adult life of killing and following orders, he missed his own world, his own existence. He didn't belong here and everyone knew it.
Secretly, Weston had hoped for something...a cause...anything to get himself wrapped up in. If he could mediate this conflict, he could properly feel useful, for even the tiniest bit of time.
A moment later, a knock came to the door.
"Come in."
Yuna peeked her head in the door. "Weston...I've assembled the Crusaders. The airship will be by tomorrow morning to take you. The 'Holy Team' is coming by foot, and they are projected to enter Kilika noon tomorrow. That'll give you plenty of time to prepare..."
"Alright."
Yuna nodded and slowly closed the door. Weston sighed and looked to his cot that resided in the left corner of the large room. He approached it and declothed. But before he laid down, he quickly went to his cabinet pulled out his rucksack, and extracted his gray khakis, shirt, and his black combat boots. He folded the shirt, khakis and set them atop the boots at the foot of his bed, making sure he would be ready at a moment's notice. Aside that, he laid his now loaded, cocked, and ready pistol, safety on, just in case. The pistol was in a shoulder holster strap that he could quickly slip over his shoulder when he needed to be ready.
Growing aware of the after effects of the day, he slowly set himself into the cot and closed his eyes, clearing his mind completely. Shortly after, he slipped into a dreamless, and thoughtless slumber.
--------------------
Gatta sighed, looking at the rising sun. His Lieutenant, a tall, sandy haired lummox who went by the name of Ughol, walked up behind him.
"You ok, boss?"
"Yeah, I'm just nervous about this mission."
Ughol laughed heartily. "It's not a mission, boss. Just a way of telling Nyka to back off."
Gatta nodded and sighed, his gaze never leaving the sun. "Do you think we're going to have to fight these guys?"
Ughol just patted the short man's shoulder, laughing. "If they start a fight, we'll take care of 'em. Question though..."
"Yeah?"
"About this Westan-"
"It's Weston"
"Whatever...Weston fella. Think he's trustworthy?"
"He saved Yuna's life."
"Yeah, but that don't mean nothing when it comes down to the nitty- gritty. In battle, you need sane men. He ain't been lookin' too sane lately."
"Wakka told me that's just his way of preparing. For what, I don't know. He didn't know about today's mission until yesterday afternoon."
"That's a little weird, ya know."
"I know. Trust me, though. He'll be fine."
"Alright...you're the boss."
"Try calling me 'Sir' every once and awhile."
"Boss, there -is- no Crusader group anymore."
Gatta sighed at this. "I know...but maybe, we can change that..."
"Hopefully."
"Well, I'll get Weston up. Form the troops and have them waiting for Weston and I to take them to wait for the Airship at the docks. And at least try to look like trained military men."
"You got it, boss."
--------------------
At the first knock, Weston was out of the cot, shirt on, shoulder holster attached, and pants halfway pulled up. By the second knock, he was fully dressed, combat boots and all. He opened the door and looked downward.
"You must be Gatta."
The shorter man nodded, obviously not intimidated by Weston's size. "That I am. Are you ready?"
Weston nodded and followed Gatta outside, shutting the door behind him.
"Now, I have superiority over the operation, if this is even an operation...anyway, I have the authority. I tell you to stop, you stop, got me?"
"Yeah. I'm used to following orders."
"But that doesn't mean I'll always be there to give them. Think for yourself if you're in a bind."
Weston smirked, already liking the blunt and upfront Gatta. "Of course."
Gatta patted Weston's shoulder holster. "Machina?"
"A gun, yes."
"Whatever you want to call it."
"Actually, it's Heckler and Koch's Special Operations Command USP fourty caliber semi-automatic pistol."
Gatta blinked and looked to Weston. "-Whatever- you want to call it." "Eh..."
"Anyway, Weston. About your Machina. I've got no problem with it. But my guys are using swords and daggers. Ten to one, so is the Holy Team. If something breaks out, watch your fire."
"I ranked Top Marksmen in basic training. I missed one target out of fourty."
"I don't care."
"Ok..."
"Just don't hit any of my men, and I'll be fine with you using it."
"Alright."
"But, sooner or later, you will have to learn a sword."
"Fencing champion, Lothburgh High."
"Don't care."
"Figured."
"Use whatever you're better at."
"Alright."
"You're not here to buddy up with any of my men. You're here to advise, since you just might have something up your sleeve that I don't."
Weston simply nodded.
"Now, this is just a guarding mission. We get there, crowd the road into town from the forest, and confront them."
Weston nodded once more. "Understood."
"Good, now lets head to the docks."
--------------------
Yuna looked to the group of men as if they were on their death march. She hadn't told the others about this, and no one in Besaid was even on the streets when the large group of uniformed men came trudging through the center of town, swords clanking and Gatta whispering his marching directions. Weston was slightly to the left of him, not bothering to stay in step.
Yuna waved, and all the men of the platoon, the choice picks out of all the Crusaders, waved back, with Gatta smiling at her. Weston didn't even seem to notice she was there.
Yuna watched as the men slowly made their way onto the docks, boots clunking against the wooden piers. The airship was a little late, but it was to be expected, since Rikku's brother wasn't one to wake up early.
Much to her surprise, while the men waited, Wakka, dressed in a yellow shirt and khaki colored cargo shorts, and Lulu in a long, purple robe, emerged from Wakka's hut and squinted in the general direction of the men.
Yuna blinked a few times, and ran to them, ready to explain and ask for them not to tell anyone. She quickly explained her decision.
Wakka smiled, patting Yuna on her shoulder. "I'm proud of you. Makin' a big decision like dat. But I just hope they make it back safely."
Lulu nodded. "Tell them to be very careful. I don't think Nyka's men would be very trustworthy."
Yuna smiled slightly, her doubt starting to fade, if only for a little bit. She still felt as if she was sending men to their deaths.
Yuna blinked and then sneered, poking Wakka's shoulder, nodding to Lulu. "What were you two doing in the same hut?"
"Non' of your damn business," Wakka quickly said, but then looked to the ground, embarrassed.
Lulu grinned, patting Wakka on his back, winking to Yuna. "We're to be married."
Yuna let her mouth drop and looked up to Lulu, a large smile on her face. "Really?"
Wakka smirked, face red with blush. "I asked her last night..."
Yuna hugged them both, glad that -some- good news would come from this day. She only prayed a catastrophe didn't rain on their parade...
"Wonderful, congratulations," Yuna said, her wide smile never leaving.
"We're announcing it to the village tonight." Lulu said, trying to hide her grin. She couldn't hide the bright red blush, however.
Yuna smiled once more and said. "It's settled, tonight, we'll throw a party in celebration."
Wakka and Lulu both grew deeper shades of red, grinning ear to ear.
Wakka blinked. "Ya dun have ta..."
Yuna tapped his nose, turning quickly away after saying, "Of course I do."
Wakka and Lulu both looked to each other, eyes locking. The airship quietly arrived as their lips met.
--------------------
The anxious Crusaders quickly boarded the airship, Gatta and Weston falling in behind. Gatta waved to Yuna one last time and the bay doors shut. The men huddled into a small group in the corner of the airship's bay door lobby. Gatta was in the center; Weston leaned against the wall, listening intently.
"Ok boys, here's the plan. We arrive in Kilika. I'm sure the Mayor will wonder what's going on, and we'll have to get the word out around town what we're going to do. They'll be pretty antsy because it was Kilika's own young boys and girls, who were taking a trip through the surrounding mountains, that sent the message tellen Yuna about the approaching army. And it's not an army, Yuna and I confirmed that yesterday afternoon. It's a "Holy Team," the Yevonites' form of "persuasion". Now I know most of you would probably love to rid the world of these guys, but we can't press them too hard. Only attack if they attack first. We're not going to start a war, we're going to negotiate if we can."
The men nodded.
"Ughol here will be signal man. If he holds up ten fingers, we've got ten guys to worry over. If he holds up two, we've got two guys to deal with. Got it?"
The men whispered a collective "Yessir."
"If they charge, Ughol will pat his head and move his arm in a half- moon shape. When you see that, get ready to fight. Hopefully it won't come to that. Now, if they don't show up by five in the afternoon, we're searching for them. Weston's taking point, since he's the one with the Machina."
Weston chimed in. "A Machina with only fifteen shots."
"You said you're a marksman. You won't need fifteen shots," Gatta retorted.
Weston smirked and quieted down.
"Now, if all goes well, we'll be back home in Besaid before dinner. If not, we'll be back -by- dinner. And no foul ups. We're representing Yuna's honor. Act like it!"
The men saluted and shouted their "Yessirs" this time. Afterwards, they dispersed and waited for the arrival.
Gatta approached Weston, and leaned against the wall next to him.
"Yeah?" asked Weston.
"What do you think of the boys, Mr. Military?"
"Dunno, haven't seen them in action. Discipline seems good. Drill skills as well."
"Well, we don't tend to use Machina, so even if you did see them in action, how would you know if they were good or not."
Weston laughed. "You've got one hell of a mouth, Gatta."
"I try."
"And you succeed."
"Thanks."
Weston sighed and Gatta mockingly sighed afterwards.
"Think we'll even see action?"
"Dunno, Weston. Hope so."
"You do?"
"Oh yeah. Haven't seen any real combat since Sin fell. I mean, all I had to do then was help the Crusaders clean shop, going around, killing any of the remaining fiends and Sinspawn."
"So you've seen your fair share?"
"Yeah. I've killed many a monster."
"How about Humans?"
"Nah, never killed one of those. Don't see much use to kill my own kind."
"You might have to learn to soon enough."
"Maybe so. If I do, I do. If I feel it's my duty, I'll do it."
"Ruining a life in the name of a cause is 'duty'?"
"Of course. S'what makes Spira keep turning."
Weston laughed but before he could spout out a witty retort, the airship jerked to a stop and the bay doors opened. Bright sunlight filled the room and the men quickly jumped into a two columned marching platoon, five to a side. Weston and Gatta moved to the front and the men left the airship, walking onto the wooden planks that made up the Kilika docks. They marched right down the main pier and stopped, causing a bit of an alarm to the people carrying on their daily lives. The mayor, who was browsing a rug shop, looked up from a wonderfully patterned throw and nearly dropped it.
The portly fellow walked right up to Gatta and screamed into his face, the man's breakfast still fresh on his breath.
"What's the meaning of this?! First the threat of Nyka and now you! What's going on?"
Gatta, as calm as possible, told the mayor why the group was there, and this quickly quieted the mayor down, who apologized for his outburst shortly after.
"Well, I'll tell everyone to stay inside and not to worry, for we're in Yuna's protection now."
Gatta nodded. "That's exactly what we want them to know."
The mayor left and begin telling merchants and customers alike, who then dropped what they were doing and went about to tell the other inhabitants of the town.
Gatta threw his arm forward and the group found it's way to the dirt and gravel path that was Kilika's only entry way from the forest. The men all squatted down and poked about, not trying to make too much noise, even though they needn't be stealthy. Weston was on one side of the walking way, back leaned against a fence post, Gatta on the other, leaning against a cement marker that was chiseled to welcome the weary traveler to Kilika. They exchanged glances, both semi-anxious to get this over with, however it turned out. They'd be waiting until about four.
--------------------
Ughol, who was about to fall asleep, kept blinking his eyes open, trying to keep them from falling again. But on this particular blink, a few human silhouettes crowded his vision in the distance. He quickly grabbed his telescopic device and put it to his right eye. In the blurry tunnel vision, he quickly counted the white robed men and turned, motioning to the group behind him.
Weston saw Ughol's hand flash five fingers, and he was somewhat relieved. But when those five fingers flashed again, and again, Weston jumped off of the fence post and jogged to where the large man was standing.
"Fifteen?!" Weston quietly shouted.
Ughol only nodded.
Weston sighed, and looked to Gatta, who had quickly received the news. Weston walked back to Gatta and growled.
"Fifteen men to eleven in Nyka's favor. Not good."
"Obviously."
Weston wasn't in the mood for Gatta's sarcasm and quickly drew his pistol, taking the safety off.
Gatta laughed. "Easy with that thing. Put it back up until you need it. Hopefully, you won't."
Weston sighed and did so, albeit reluctantly. The men were excited, but still anxious, waiting for Nyka's men to reach the town.
Weston sighed once more, watching the slowly moving figures approach, inch by inch it seemed to him. He was nervous, anxious, and ready to kill if need be, a deadly combination when combined with extensive training and experience. He squinted, knowing the men had weapons, but he couldn't tell if they were staffs or bows. His questions were answered when he made out the blink and smoky remnants of a muzzle flash.
--------------------
One of the Crusaders hit the ground, shoulder shattered by a primitive but deadly bullet. He was screaming in pain, and Gatta kneeled next to him, flipping open his side-sack to pick out a potion. The potion healed the pain, but the wound would take longer. The man tried to move his arm, but it failed and he slumped, useless against a pier post. The next few shots came, and more screams of pain.
Weston growled, yelling loudly. "They've got guns...Machina! Get down!"
And the men did so. Nyka's men were too far out of range for Weston's pistol to do any damage. Weston growled, knowing now that the guns these men had were the same primitive rifles that the assassins had been using the day of the Tournament. The bullets continued to come, but the men were moving a bit closer in. Meanwhile, Gatta was jumping between three wounded men, trying to heal their wounds. One man had been shot directly through the bridge of his nose, where the heavy bullet was lodged into his brain. The man was alive, but not coherent. No potion could heal brain damage of this magnitude.
Nyka's men stopped firing and made down the path in a dead run. The remaining Crusader men charged, following Ughol. Weston did as well, but instead of taking the open path, he slid along the wall of a nearby house, but moving fast enough to support the men if need be. And the need came rather quickly.
One of the Holy Team men apparently saw him and fired, missing Weston's head by mere inches. Weston growled, pulled his pistol and fired a shot into the man's direction. It was a hit, but a bad one. Shoulder shot. Weston growled and fired again, hitting the man center chest, the force of the fourty caliber bullet sending the man flying a few feet back. Weston looked ahead and saw no opposition staring him in the face and he ran, full steam into the now clashed group of men. He fired and down went another Holy Team member. But, Weston's reward was a rifle butt to the face, and he went down hard.
Weston shook his head and felt the kicks hitting his sides, but didn't bother noticing the pain. He was too furious now for pain. His hands found the nearest head and twisted, snapping the neck of one of Nyka's men. He heard the clunk of the cumbersome rifle as it hit the ground and he quickly picked it up. His back would hate him later, for as he bent down, one of the men hit him square across the spin with a rifle. Weston turned, despite the numbing pain, and fired, the heavy bullet taking the man's jaw with it. All around him, Weston heard scream, clanks, clunks, and the shink of metal into skin. He searched for his pistol, and found it, under a dead Holy Team member.
Weston aimed at every white robe he could see, three in all and fired a round into each one. Of course, by now, the count was Holy Team, six, Crusaders, five. The rest of the team kept heading for the gates, and they met the cold steel of the Crusaders' blades. Weston started to limp forward slightly, the pain in his back now registering quite well.
Ughol ran to Weston and forced a potion on him. Weston immediately perked up and ran toward the pier, ready to jump into the pile of flailing bodies. But, instead, he stopped and raised his pistol, popping a couple of the white robes at the base of the neck, where the spine begins. The lifeless bodies hit the ground, only to revel more chaos unfurling behind them. He saw three more white robes, bashing away. His pistol raised one more, and fired. Little did Weston know, his fifteen shots had come and gone, and the weapon only clicked three times. He blinked, noticing, finally, that the slide was cocked back, telling him he was pure out of luck. Angered in the heat of battle, he threw the weapon off to the side and decided to take care of the last three barehanded.
Weston gripped the left man's shoulders, and flipped him around. Weston would be grateful that he had flipped the man, for the move blocked the shot from the last of Nyka's men. With a great heave, Ughol dispatched the final man's head from his shoulders with a blow from his mighty broadsword. The head rolled a bit in Weston's direction.
Weston laughed, obviously adrenaline crazed. "Now -that's- something a potion can't fix."
--------------------
Gatta blinked, surveying the scene as two men of his squad rushed two critically wounded comrades to the airship.
The final count would be fifteen dead Holy Team members against six alive and five dead Crusaders. Gatta sighed, shaking his head as he helped Weston pick up the last of the fallen Crusaders. On the trek back to the airship, Weston, who was now coming off of his rush, looked to Gatta.
"You got your action."
"At what price?"
Weston hmmed. "Twenty human lives, possibly more if we don't hurry back to Besaid."
"Duty doesn't seem too appealing anymore."
"Truer words have yet to be spoken."
--------------------
Wakka and Lulu were sitting, and eating, at the head of a large wooden table, while the other villagers ate at the sides, Yuna at the other end of the large table. Everyone was enjoying themselves, frequent toasts, more and more meat, veggies and pastry being served by the half-hour. Lulu smirked and grabbed a piece of cake, stuffing it into Wakka's mouth. The red-headed behemoth smirked and mmphed, chewing with his mouth half-open. Lulu laughed.
Yuna smiled warmly, watching them. Even though it pained to not have her own mate, she was purely happy for Wakka and Lulu. To her, it had been a long time coming, and long overdue.
Some of the villagers were dancing around the fire outside of the dining tent, either drunk or high on life.
Yuna was, for the first time in ages, honestly happy. And she vowed nothing would take it away from Wakka and Lulu, the villagers, or even herself.
It was then, as she made this vow, that the body of one of the Crusaders slammed against the table. Ughol didn't say a word, just pointed to Yuna, and then to the shaking young soldier. Yuna nodded, still dazed at what had just occurred, but realizing what she must do. With a flash, the man's wound was healed, but his pain lasted, and the feeling of having a bullet lodged into his brain made him convulse. Two of the villagers grabbed him and took him to the side, obviously meaning to bring the man to his senses.
Yuna ran to the fire outside, seeing Gatta, who was very dirty and bloody, and Weston, who was just as dirty, but only had a bruise on his forehead run by in what seemed like slow motion. She turned to see the two men place another Crusader onto the table. She ran to him and looked at his wound. The young man had a bullet lodged in his windpipe. He was only seconds from asphyxiation. Yuna placed her hand over the wound, closed her eyes, and the bullet disappeared into a white flash of light. The same two villagers from before took the soldier off to the side, setting him next to the other one.
Yuna looked to Weston, who only stared at her blankly, as if he didn't believe what was occurring either. Gatta rushed back in, carrying a soldier with a very bloody shoulder. The bone was shattered, but Yuna knew the young man could wait just a moment more.
She looked to Gatta and asked, "Any more?"
"The dead are in the airship. They're too long gone to revive."
"How many?"
"Too many."
Yuna's heart sank. She looked to Wakka and Lulu, who stared at the bloody pool seeping into the cake they had just been eating. She then looked to Weston, whose look told her he was shattered on the inside, like a fragile glass rose. Gatta and Ughol had the exact same expression, and they all shared the same look in their eye, as if they're not looking directly ahead, but way off into the distance. She sighed and looked back to the soldier with the shattered shoulder. He was crying out in pain, making her jog over to him. She quickly mended his wound with her magic. But of course, there was nothing magic or potions could do for mental wounds...
--------------------
"Friends, fellow Yevoners, all who hear me now hear a broken men. Fifteen of our own were brutally murdered by a band of Crusaders just outside of Kilika yesterday. The Crusaders ambushed them with forbidden Machina, while how lowly Holy Team only had the book of Yevon as their weapons. Alas, books cannot contend with bullets, and we are fifteen lives shorter than we were only two days ago. According to sources, the group was sent there on direct orders from Yuna. Now, my believers, if this isn't a call to action, I do not know what is. From this point forward, the book of New Yevon, its council, its people, and Yevon himself are now deeply set into a war against the rebellious and barbaric heathens, led by the evil temptress who goes by the name of Yuna. Hear me, now. We will need every bit of money, every bit of labor, and every single able-bodied husband and son to join our illustrious army of Good Will. But, alas, we will have to fight fire with fire, believers. We cannot fight bullets without using bullets ourselves. But this is Yevon's will, as he has told me himself. We will defeat this uprising of heathens, and cast them back to the shadowy pits they've come from. Praise be to Yevon, and all his followers!"
The crowd cheered, hooted, and hollered. Nyka sank back into his office with a grin, satisfied with himself.
--------------------
"...Praise be to Yevon, and all his followers!"
The image clicked off and the sphere whirred to a stop. This was Yuna's third time watching that dreadful speech. She knew the choice that she'd avoided for months now was at hand, and she only knew one alternative: death.
Yuna walked out onto the temple's front steps, the sphere in her hand. Wakka, Lulu, Weston, Gatta and his Crusaders, all of Besaid and most of Kilika all watching her every movement.
She cleared her throat, and spoke in soft, clear, measured tones. "We are to...wage war."
--------------------
Phew, plenty of action in this chapter. And oooooooooooooo two long chapters in one weekend. I'm goooooooood ^^ Also, as I meant to open this AN out... "Thus, ends, Part One of Akin to Sin. The second major plot development is in place. Expect really long, drawn out chapters full of Saving Private Ryan style war imagery, much like a few scenes in this chapter. Of course, being a PG-13 fic, I'll have to tone it down just a tad. Heads will roll, they say ^^" Ok, now that's out of the way...Expect the next few chapters in the next month or so. School's going to be a bitch before Christmas, and I'll be doubling the cram time in for finals. Oh, and if you have any questions/comments/blurbs/what ifs/anything else not mentioned, feel free to email me (tlozwarlock@yahoo.com) or IM me. Tlozwarlock on AIM and Yahoo. No, I don't use MSN. So sue me. What? I'm not begging...I'm just lonely ;.; ^^;;;
PS. Wouldn't that whole wedding party thing in real life just suck? You're just eating and having a good ole time, just to have some bloodied body dumped onto your pre-nuptial feast. *shudders*
Weston peered over the densely unkempt hill, the sun's rays long hidden by the gray miasma. The ground was littered with jaggedly edged metal scraps, shattered weaponry, and the remnants of many broken and lost lives. He then looked to his wounds, remembering where each had come from, two of them fresh and bleeding from this, the final battle.
The weapon in his hand was hot from being fired so many times. It surprised him that it hadn't jammed.
As he fired the last shot into the ground, its empty magazine being shot from the chamber by a spring mechanism, he smirked. "I suppose Al-Bhed ingenuity has outdone even the finest American weapon..."
"Sir, we done here?"
"Looks that way."
"Didn't expect so much...trouble."
"That's what happens when people are easily susceptible to a power hungry lunatic. Lots of death."
"Think its over?"
"I doubt we'll have much more fighting to do, if any. The city secure?"
"Yessir."
"Good. Go ahead and get out of here."
The soldier left Weston to his thoughts. He had been through more than most people would ever experience in their entire life. All Weston could focus on was how the world of Spira had gotten to this state.
--------------------
"Nyka's Army is going for Kilika," the shaken aide told Yuna.
The young Maestress bit her bottom lip in thought, trying to turn away from the most obvious, but deadly choice.
Over the past three months, Nyka had hastily put together an army of former Crusaders and New Yevonites, taking in anyone who wanted to join. From this, he got a force comprised of disgruntled sword bearers and trained military men. However, the majority of the army was the former, seeing as the Crusaders had seemed to take a disliking to Nyka after he lobbied for and eventually won the disbandment of the group. The army had been training for less than a month when the Two Councils pronounced their independence from Yuna's influence and started to move their army, slowly, out of Bevelle, mainly as a recruitment drive. But, recently, reports of non-Yevonites being imprisoned and executed worried Yuna and her compatriots. She had sent a letter begging for Nyka, if these reports -were- true, to desist and go about his business with the etiquette of a Yevon Maester, since the aging man had proclaimed himself so.
Of course, what had started all of this was Nyka posting photos around Bevelle, discrediting Yuna as "wholesome" and proclaiming that not even famous and 'worthy' leaders could be trusted. The fickle Yevonites had bought it hook, line, and sinker and a public outcry spread over Spira to rid Yuna of any credibility she had ever gained. This, once and for all, divided the people of Spira: those with Nyka and those with Yuna.
The plus side to all of this was that, after being treated so horribly by the Yevonites, most of the Crusaders vowed to protect Yuna and her good name. Clashes between the Crusaders and the Yevonites had begun in Bevelle and Spread to Luca and even as far as Kilika. They weren't violent, per say, but they were incredibly disheartening to both peoples, and this only fed the heresy and accusations. In Luca, people were preparing for what the Spherecasters called the "War of Civil Unrest." In Bevelle, people were preparing to send their sons and husbands off to fight for the -true- way, the Yevon way.
Yuna had yet to supply any decent offense to Nyka's actions and the people that sided with the former Summoner were growing weary. Yuna had been pressured to do many things, from striking up a treaty to sending every last Crusader into the heart of Bevelle to kill Nyka.
But, as the situation finally clicked, she made a choice that would shape the rest of this 'conflict'.
--------------------
"Weston?"
"Come in."
Yuna hunched forward, barely making Weston's bulky frame out in the darkness of the house. "I need to ask your advice..."
Weston moved from the corner, his countenance less that 'happy' by a long shot.
"What is it?"
"I've...made a choice. I've just heard now that Nyka is sending his army to Kilika. I...I want them stopped."
Weston nodded, cracking his neck with a tilt of his head. "How big of a force?"
"I don't know."
"Great," Weston sarcastically remarked.
Yuna sighed. "What should I do?"
"I'd recommend matching or bettering his force, but since you don't know what kind of force is coming..."
"I think it's one of his 'Holy Teams'."
"And those are?"
"A group of about...ten men...that basically promote Yevon's will."
"Also known as 'Propagandists' or, if you wanna go technical, a group of men trained to kill those who don't want to do what they tell them to do."
Yuna blinked. Weston saw this and raised a hand, sighing.
"So I should send ten Crusaders there, in my name, to tell them they're not wanted?"
Weston grinned at this. "More or less."
Yuna hmmed in thought, while Weston crossed his arms, waiting for her to say what she needed to.
"Do you think-"
"I'll go."
Yuna smiled. "Thank you."
"I need to get out of the house anyway."
Yuna continued to smile, bowing on her way out.
When the door shut, Weston sighed and dropped into his couch, not really knowing what to expect. He sighed, trying to prepare himself, locking all other thoughts. He didn't think it'd come down to anything more than a verbal fight but, he'd go prepared for the worst.
And thinking of this made him immediately go to his night table, pulling his SOCOM pistol from the drawer. He brought it up to his face, studying it. He pulled the slide back and let go, letting the unloaded gun chamber a phantom round. With the flick of his wrist, the gun shot into the air and the hammer clicked against the phantom primer. Weston knew the shot was on target, and could imagine it busting through his couch's back.
Weston squinted his eyes and set the gun down with a sigh, trying to shake his anxiety, which had been growing since he'd heard Nyka's speech months ago. He was shivering again, which he was increasingly trying to control, but was having trouble doing so.
As he sat down again, he gripped his wrist, watching his fingers flex and grip an imaginary object. He could feel his pulse through his skin as his hand violently shook. Weston continued to squeeze until his hand started to turn purple from loss of blood. With a grunt, he let go and leaned into the back cushion of the couch. He closed his eyes, sighing aloud.
His thoughts wandered to Columbia, and the events in Hong Kong that led him to this 'Spira.' While he had grown accustomed to calling Spira his home, he didn't feel as if he fit in properly, knowing he'd never truly be able to forget where he had come from. Even with a troubled childhood and an adult life of killing and following orders, he missed his own world, his own existence. He didn't belong here and everyone knew it.
Secretly, Weston had hoped for something...a cause...anything to get himself wrapped up in. If he could mediate this conflict, he could properly feel useful, for even the tiniest bit of time.
A moment later, a knock came to the door.
"Come in."
Yuna peeked her head in the door. "Weston...I've assembled the Crusaders. The airship will be by tomorrow morning to take you. The 'Holy Team' is coming by foot, and they are projected to enter Kilika noon tomorrow. That'll give you plenty of time to prepare..."
"Alright."
Yuna nodded and slowly closed the door. Weston sighed and looked to his cot that resided in the left corner of the large room. He approached it and declothed. But before he laid down, he quickly went to his cabinet pulled out his rucksack, and extracted his gray khakis, shirt, and his black combat boots. He folded the shirt, khakis and set them atop the boots at the foot of his bed, making sure he would be ready at a moment's notice. Aside that, he laid his now loaded, cocked, and ready pistol, safety on, just in case. The pistol was in a shoulder holster strap that he could quickly slip over his shoulder when he needed to be ready.
Growing aware of the after effects of the day, he slowly set himself into the cot and closed his eyes, clearing his mind completely. Shortly after, he slipped into a dreamless, and thoughtless slumber.
--------------------
Gatta sighed, looking at the rising sun. His Lieutenant, a tall, sandy haired lummox who went by the name of Ughol, walked up behind him.
"You ok, boss?"
"Yeah, I'm just nervous about this mission."
Ughol laughed heartily. "It's not a mission, boss. Just a way of telling Nyka to back off."
Gatta nodded and sighed, his gaze never leaving the sun. "Do you think we're going to have to fight these guys?"
Ughol just patted the short man's shoulder, laughing. "If they start a fight, we'll take care of 'em. Question though..."
"Yeah?"
"About this Westan-"
"It's Weston"
"Whatever...Weston fella. Think he's trustworthy?"
"He saved Yuna's life."
"Yeah, but that don't mean nothing when it comes down to the nitty- gritty. In battle, you need sane men. He ain't been lookin' too sane lately."
"Wakka told me that's just his way of preparing. For what, I don't know. He didn't know about today's mission until yesterday afternoon."
"That's a little weird, ya know."
"I know. Trust me, though. He'll be fine."
"Alright...you're the boss."
"Try calling me 'Sir' every once and awhile."
"Boss, there -is- no Crusader group anymore."
Gatta sighed at this. "I know...but maybe, we can change that..."
"Hopefully."
"Well, I'll get Weston up. Form the troops and have them waiting for Weston and I to take them to wait for the Airship at the docks. And at least try to look like trained military men."
"You got it, boss."
--------------------
At the first knock, Weston was out of the cot, shirt on, shoulder holster attached, and pants halfway pulled up. By the second knock, he was fully dressed, combat boots and all. He opened the door and looked downward.
"You must be Gatta."
The shorter man nodded, obviously not intimidated by Weston's size. "That I am. Are you ready?"
Weston nodded and followed Gatta outside, shutting the door behind him.
"Now, I have superiority over the operation, if this is even an operation...anyway, I have the authority. I tell you to stop, you stop, got me?"
"Yeah. I'm used to following orders."
"But that doesn't mean I'll always be there to give them. Think for yourself if you're in a bind."
Weston smirked, already liking the blunt and upfront Gatta. "Of course."
Gatta patted Weston's shoulder holster. "Machina?"
"A gun, yes."
"Whatever you want to call it."
"Actually, it's Heckler and Koch's Special Operations Command USP fourty caliber semi-automatic pistol."
Gatta blinked and looked to Weston. "-Whatever- you want to call it." "Eh..."
"Anyway, Weston. About your Machina. I've got no problem with it. But my guys are using swords and daggers. Ten to one, so is the Holy Team. If something breaks out, watch your fire."
"I ranked Top Marksmen in basic training. I missed one target out of fourty."
"I don't care."
"Ok..."
"Just don't hit any of my men, and I'll be fine with you using it."
"Alright."
"But, sooner or later, you will have to learn a sword."
"Fencing champion, Lothburgh High."
"Don't care."
"Figured."
"Use whatever you're better at."
"Alright."
"You're not here to buddy up with any of my men. You're here to advise, since you just might have something up your sleeve that I don't."
Weston simply nodded.
"Now, this is just a guarding mission. We get there, crowd the road into town from the forest, and confront them."
Weston nodded once more. "Understood."
"Good, now lets head to the docks."
--------------------
Yuna looked to the group of men as if they were on their death march. She hadn't told the others about this, and no one in Besaid was even on the streets when the large group of uniformed men came trudging through the center of town, swords clanking and Gatta whispering his marching directions. Weston was slightly to the left of him, not bothering to stay in step.
Yuna waved, and all the men of the platoon, the choice picks out of all the Crusaders, waved back, with Gatta smiling at her. Weston didn't even seem to notice she was there.
Yuna watched as the men slowly made their way onto the docks, boots clunking against the wooden piers. The airship was a little late, but it was to be expected, since Rikku's brother wasn't one to wake up early.
Much to her surprise, while the men waited, Wakka, dressed in a yellow shirt and khaki colored cargo shorts, and Lulu in a long, purple robe, emerged from Wakka's hut and squinted in the general direction of the men.
Yuna blinked a few times, and ran to them, ready to explain and ask for them not to tell anyone. She quickly explained her decision.
Wakka smiled, patting Yuna on her shoulder. "I'm proud of you. Makin' a big decision like dat. But I just hope they make it back safely."
Lulu nodded. "Tell them to be very careful. I don't think Nyka's men would be very trustworthy."
Yuna smiled slightly, her doubt starting to fade, if only for a little bit. She still felt as if she was sending men to their deaths.
Yuna blinked and then sneered, poking Wakka's shoulder, nodding to Lulu. "What were you two doing in the same hut?"
"Non' of your damn business," Wakka quickly said, but then looked to the ground, embarrassed.
Lulu grinned, patting Wakka on his back, winking to Yuna. "We're to be married."
Yuna let her mouth drop and looked up to Lulu, a large smile on her face. "Really?"
Wakka smirked, face red with blush. "I asked her last night..."
Yuna hugged them both, glad that -some- good news would come from this day. She only prayed a catastrophe didn't rain on their parade...
"Wonderful, congratulations," Yuna said, her wide smile never leaving.
"We're announcing it to the village tonight." Lulu said, trying to hide her grin. She couldn't hide the bright red blush, however.
Yuna smiled once more and said. "It's settled, tonight, we'll throw a party in celebration."
Wakka and Lulu both grew deeper shades of red, grinning ear to ear.
Wakka blinked. "Ya dun have ta..."
Yuna tapped his nose, turning quickly away after saying, "Of course I do."
Wakka and Lulu both looked to each other, eyes locking. The airship quietly arrived as their lips met.
--------------------
The anxious Crusaders quickly boarded the airship, Gatta and Weston falling in behind. Gatta waved to Yuna one last time and the bay doors shut. The men huddled into a small group in the corner of the airship's bay door lobby. Gatta was in the center; Weston leaned against the wall, listening intently.
"Ok boys, here's the plan. We arrive in Kilika. I'm sure the Mayor will wonder what's going on, and we'll have to get the word out around town what we're going to do. They'll be pretty antsy because it was Kilika's own young boys and girls, who were taking a trip through the surrounding mountains, that sent the message tellen Yuna about the approaching army. And it's not an army, Yuna and I confirmed that yesterday afternoon. It's a "Holy Team," the Yevonites' form of "persuasion". Now I know most of you would probably love to rid the world of these guys, but we can't press them too hard. Only attack if they attack first. We're not going to start a war, we're going to negotiate if we can."
The men nodded.
"Ughol here will be signal man. If he holds up ten fingers, we've got ten guys to worry over. If he holds up two, we've got two guys to deal with. Got it?"
The men whispered a collective "Yessir."
"If they charge, Ughol will pat his head and move his arm in a half- moon shape. When you see that, get ready to fight. Hopefully it won't come to that. Now, if they don't show up by five in the afternoon, we're searching for them. Weston's taking point, since he's the one with the Machina."
Weston chimed in. "A Machina with only fifteen shots."
"You said you're a marksman. You won't need fifteen shots," Gatta retorted.
Weston smirked and quieted down.
"Now, if all goes well, we'll be back home in Besaid before dinner. If not, we'll be back -by- dinner. And no foul ups. We're representing Yuna's honor. Act like it!"
The men saluted and shouted their "Yessirs" this time. Afterwards, they dispersed and waited for the arrival.
Gatta approached Weston, and leaned against the wall next to him.
"Yeah?" asked Weston.
"What do you think of the boys, Mr. Military?"
"Dunno, haven't seen them in action. Discipline seems good. Drill skills as well."
"Well, we don't tend to use Machina, so even if you did see them in action, how would you know if they were good or not."
Weston laughed. "You've got one hell of a mouth, Gatta."
"I try."
"And you succeed."
"Thanks."
Weston sighed and Gatta mockingly sighed afterwards.
"Think we'll even see action?"
"Dunno, Weston. Hope so."
"You do?"
"Oh yeah. Haven't seen any real combat since Sin fell. I mean, all I had to do then was help the Crusaders clean shop, going around, killing any of the remaining fiends and Sinspawn."
"So you've seen your fair share?"
"Yeah. I've killed many a monster."
"How about Humans?"
"Nah, never killed one of those. Don't see much use to kill my own kind."
"You might have to learn to soon enough."
"Maybe so. If I do, I do. If I feel it's my duty, I'll do it."
"Ruining a life in the name of a cause is 'duty'?"
"Of course. S'what makes Spira keep turning."
Weston laughed but before he could spout out a witty retort, the airship jerked to a stop and the bay doors opened. Bright sunlight filled the room and the men quickly jumped into a two columned marching platoon, five to a side. Weston and Gatta moved to the front and the men left the airship, walking onto the wooden planks that made up the Kilika docks. They marched right down the main pier and stopped, causing a bit of an alarm to the people carrying on their daily lives. The mayor, who was browsing a rug shop, looked up from a wonderfully patterned throw and nearly dropped it.
The portly fellow walked right up to Gatta and screamed into his face, the man's breakfast still fresh on his breath.
"What's the meaning of this?! First the threat of Nyka and now you! What's going on?"
Gatta, as calm as possible, told the mayor why the group was there, and this quickly quieted the mayor down, who apologized for his outburst shortly after.
"Well, I'll tell everyone to stay inside and not to worry, for we're in Yuna's protection now."
Gatta nodded. "That's exactly what we want them to know."
The mayor left and begin telling merchants and customers alike, who then dropped what they were doing and went about to tell the other inhabitants of the town.
Gatta threw his arm forward and the group found it's way to the dirt and gravel path that was Kilika's only entry way from the forest. The men all squatted down and poked about, not trying to make too much noise, even though they needn't be stealthy. Weston was on one side of the walking way, back leaned against a fence post, Gatta on the other, leaning against a cement marker that was chiseled to welcome the weary traveler to Kilika. They exchanged glances, both semi-anxious to get this over with, however it turned out. They'd be waiting until about four.
--------------------
Ughol, who was about to fall asleep, kept blinking his eyes open, trying to keep them from falling again. But on this particular blink, a few human silhouettes crowded his vision in the distance. He quickly grabbed his telescopic device and put it to his right eye. In the blurry tunnel vision, he quickly counted the white robed men and turned, motioning to the group behind him.
Weston saw Ughol's hand flash five fingers, and he was somewhat relieved. But when those five fingers flashed again, and again, Weston jumped off of the fence post and jogged to where the large man was standing.
"Fifteen?!" Weston quietly shouted.
Ughol only nodded.
Weston sighed, and looked to Gatta, who had quickly received the news. Weston walked back to Gatta and growled.
"Fifteen men to eleven in Nyka's favor. Not good."
"Obviously."
Weston wasn't in the mood for Gatta's sarcasm and quickly drew his pistol, taking the safety off.
Gatta laughed. "Easy with that thing. Put it back up until you need it. Hopefully, you won't."
Weston sighed and did so, albeit reluctantly. The men were excited, but still anxious, waiting for Nyka's men to reach the town.
Weston sighed once more, watching the slowly moving figures approach, inch by inch it seemed to him. He was nervous, anxious, and ready to kill if need be, a deadly combination when combined with extensive training and experience. He squinted, knowing the men had weapons, but he couldn't tell if they were staffs or bows. His questions were answered when he made out the blink and smoky remnants of a muzzle flash.
--------------------
One of the Crusaders hit the ground, shoulder shattered by a primitive but deadly bullet. He was screaming in pain, and Gatta kneeled next to him, flipping open his side-sack to pick out a potion. The potion healed the pain, but the wound would take longer. The man tried to move his arm, but it failed and he slumped, useless against a pier post. The next few shots came, and more screams of pain.
Weston growled, yelling loudly. "They've got guns...Machina! Get down!"
And the men did so. Nyka's men were too far out of range for Weston's pistol to do any damage. Weston growled, knowing now that the guns these men had were the same primitive rifles that the assassins had been using the day of the Tournament. The bullets continued to come, but the men were moving a bit closer in. Meanwhile, Gatta was jumping between three wounded men, trying to heal their wounds. One man had been shot directly through the bridge of his nose, where the heavy bullet was lodged into his brain. The man was alive, but not coherent. No potion could heal brain damage of this magnitude.
Nyka's men stopped firing and made down the path in a dead run. The remaining Crusader men charged, following Ughol. Weston did as well, but instead of taking the open path, he slid along the wall of a nearby house, but moving fast enough to support the men if need be. And the need came rather quickly.
One of the Holy Team men apparently saw him and fired, missing Weston's head by mere inches. Weston growled, pulled his pistol and fired a shot into the man's direction. It was a hit, but a bad one. Shoulder shot. Weston growled and fired again, hitting the man center chest, the force of the fourty caliber bullet sending the man flying a few feet back. Weston looked ahead and saw no opposition staring him in the face and he ran, full steam into the now clashed group of men. He fired and down went another Holy Team member. But, Weston's reward was a rifle butt to the face, and he went down hard.
Weston shook his head and felt the kicks hitting his sides, but didn't bother noticing the pain. He was too furious now for pain. His hands found the nearest head and twisted, snapping the neck of one of Nyka's men. He heard the clunk of the cumbersome rifle as it hit the ground and he quickly picked it up. His back would hate him later, for as he bent down, one of the men hit him square across the spin with a rifle. Weston turned, despite the numbing pain, and fired, the heavy bullet taking the man's jaw with it. All around him, Weston heard scream, clanks, clunks, and the shink of metal into skin. He searched for his pistol, and found it, under a dead Holy Team member.
Weston aimed at every white robe he could see, three in all and fired a round into each one. Of course, by now, the count was Holy Team, six, Crusaders, five. The rest of the team kept heading for the gates, and they met the cold steel of the Crusaders' blades. Weston started to limp forward slightly, the pain in his back now registering quite well.
Ughol ran to Weston and forced a potion on him. Weston immediately perked up and ran toward the pier, ready to jump into the pile of flailing bodies. But, instead, he stopped and raised his pistol, popping a couple of the white robes at the base of the neck, where the spine begins. The lifeless bodies hit the ground, only to revel more chaos unfurling behind them. He saw three more white robes, bashing away. His pistol raised one more, and fired. Little did Weston know, his fifteen shots had come and gone, and the weapon only clicked three times. He blinked, noticing, finally, that the slide was cocked back, telling him he was pure out of luck. Angered in the heat of battle, he threw the weapon off to the side and decided to take care of the last three barehanded.
Weston gripped the left man's shoulders, and flipped him around. Weston would be grateful that he had flipped the man, for the move blocked the shot from the last of Nyka's men. With a great heave, Ughol dispatched the final man's head from his shoulders with a blow from his mighty broadsword. The head rolled a bit in Weston's direction.
Weston laughed, obviously adrenaline crazed. "Now -that's- something a potion can't fix."
--------------------
Gatta blinked, surveying the scene as two men of his squad rushed two critically wounded comrades to the airship.
The final count would be fifteen dead Holy Team members against six alive and five dead Crusaders. Gatta sighed, shaking his head as he helped Weston pick up the last of the fallen Crusaders. On the trek back to the airship, Weston, who was now coming off of his rush, looked to Gatta.
"You got your action."
"At what price?"
Weston hmmed. "Twenty human lives, possibly more if we don't hurry back to Besaid."
"Duty doesn't seem too appealing anymore."
"Truer words have yet to be spoken."
--------------------
Wakka and Lulu were sitting, and eating, at the head of a large wooden table, while the other villagers ate at the sides, Yuna at the other end of the large table. Everyone was enjoying themselves, frequent toasts, more and more meat, veggies and pastry being served by the half-hour. Lulu smirked and grabbed a piece of cake, stuffing it into Wakka's mouth. The red-headed behemoth smirked and mmphed, chewing with his mouth half-open. Lulu laughed.
Yuna smiled warmly, watching them. Even though it pained to not have her own mate, she was purely happy for Wakka and Lulu. To her, it had been a long time coming, and long overdue.
Some of the villagers were dancing around the fire outside of the dining tent, either drunk or high on life.
Yuna was, for the first time in ages, honestly happy. And she vowed nothing would take it away from Wakka and Lulu, the villagers, or even herself.
It was then, as she made this vow, that the body of one of the Crusaders slammed against the table. Ughol didn't say a word, just pointed to Yuna, and then to the shaking young soldier. Yuna nodded, still dazed at what had just occurred, but realizing what she must do. With a flash, the man's wound was healed, but his pain lasted, and the feeling of having a bullet lodged into his brain made him convulse. Two of the villagers grabbed him and took him to the side, obviously meaning to bring the man to his senses.
Yuna ran to the fire outside, seeing Gatta, who was very dirty and bloody, and Weston, who was just as dirty, but only had a bruise on his forehead run by in what seemed like slow motion. She turned to see the two men place another Crusader onto the table. She ran to him and looked at his wound. The young man had a bullet lodged in his windpipe. He was only seconds from asphyxiation. Yuna placed her hand over the wound, closed her eyes, and the bullet disappeared into a white flash of light. The same two villagers from before took the soldier off to the side, setting him next to the other one.
Yuna looked to Weston, who only stared at her blankly, as if he didn't believe what was occurring either. Gatta rushed back in, carrying a soldier with a very bloody shoulder. The bone was shattered, but Yuna knew the young man could wait just a moment more.
She looked to Gatta and asked, "Any more?"
"The dead are in the airship. They're too long gone to revive."
"How many?"
"Too many."
Yuna's heart sank. She looked to Wakka and Lulu, who stared at the bloody pool seeping into the cake they had just been eating. She then looked to Weston, whose look told her he was shattered on the inside, like a fragile glass rose. Gatta and Ughol had the exact same expression, and they all shared the same look in their eye, as if they're not looking directly ahead, but way off into the distance. She sighed and looked back to the soldier with the shattered shoulder. He was crying out in pain, making her jog over to him. She quickly mended his wound with her magic. But of course, there was nothing magic or potions could do for mental wounds...
--------------------
"Friends, fellow Yevoners, all who hear me now hear a broken men. Fifteen of our own were brutally murdered by a band of Crusaders just outside of Kilika yesterday. The Crusaders ambushed them with forbidden Machina, while how lowly Holy Team only had the book of Yevon as their weapons. Alas, books cannot contend with bullets, and we are fifteen lives shorter than we were only two days ago. According to sources, the group was sent there on direct orders from Yuna. Now, my believers, if this isn't a call to action, I do not know what is. From this point forward, the book of New Yevon, its council, its people, and Yevon himself are now deeply set into a war against the rebellious and barbaric heathens, led by the evil temptress who goes by the name of Yuna. Hear me, now. We will need every bit of money, every bit of labor, and every single able-bodied husband and son to join our illustrious army of Good Will. But, alas, we will have to fight fire with fire, believers. We cannot fight bullets without using bullets ourselves. But this is Yevon's will, as he has told me himself. We will defeat this uprising of heathens, and cast them back to the shadowy pits they've come from. Praise be to Yevon, and all his followers!"
The crowd cheered, hooted, and hollered. Nyka sank back into his office with a grin, satisfied with himself.
--------------------
"...Praise be to Yevon, and all his followers!"
The image clicked off and the sphere whirred to a stop. This was Yuna's third time watching that dreadful speech. She knew the choice that she'd avoided for months now was at hand, and she only knew one alternative: death.
Yuna walked out onto the temple's front steps, the sphere in her hand. Wakka, Lulu, Weston, Gatta and his Crusaders, all of Besaid and most of Kilika all watching her every movement.
She cleared her throat, and spoke in soft, clear, measured tones. "We are to...wage war."
--------------------
Phew, plenty of action in this chapter. And oooooooooooooo two long chapters in one weekend. I'm goooooooood ^^ Also, as I meant to open this AN out... "Thus, ends, Part One of Akin to Sin. The second major plot development is in place. Expect really long, drawn out chapters full of Saving Private Ryan style war imagery, much like a few scenes in this chapter. Of course, being a PG-13 fic, I'll have to tone it down just a tad. Heads will roll, they say ^^" Ok, now that's out of the way...Expect the next few chapters in the next month or so. School's going to be a bitch before Christmas, and I'll be doubling the cram time in for finals. Oh, and if you have any questions/comments/blurbs/what ifs/anything else not mentioned, feel free to email me (tlozwarlock@yahoo.com) or IM me. Tlozwarlock on AIM and Yahoo. No, I don't use MSN. So sue me. What? I'm not begging...I'm just lonely ;.; ^^;;;
PS. Wouldn't that whole wedding party thing in real life just suck? You're just eating and having a good ole time, just to have some bloodied body dumped onto your pre-nuptial feast. *shudders*