XII
"While there maybe those willing to forgive all your many misdeeds, sir, these are all in the past and the past is not my concern. As a rule, I concern myself mainly with the present and the future. And I ask you: with any certainty, can I trust you now?"
--General Caraway, question to Vinzer Deling's ex chief-of-staff


Squall and Seifer arrived at the coast of Galbadia quite a bit later, and many Hastes shorter. Looking back, they saw the black ships trailed behind by the narrowest margin, still steadily advancing. Four hours, maybe five, and they would be there. Not enough time to get to Deling City.

"Damn!" Seifer cursed fluently, a steady string that lasted all of ten paces, and looked ahead. His mood had been decreasing slowly but surely since that morning--Squall hadn't asked why, but he was sure this wouldn't improve it. "If they want to invade Galbadia they'll have to go through that valley," Seifer went on. "The one between those plateus. We can stop them there."

"They aren't just going to invade Galbadia," Squall said, realizing something. (Damn! This isn't good....) "Look at the number of those ships. There are enough there to take DC and Fishermans Horizon, with a force big enough for Dollet as backup. I think they'll try to reach FH on foot, since boarding them didn't work."

"What are you saying?" Seifer challenged.

"I'm saying that our planned ambush isn't going to work. The leader may be open to negotiation, but there's no way they'll be able to incapacitate that many soldiers, not with backup available. And they're coming for Galbadia, too."

"What?" Seifer demanded "Well, damn, it's good to see your plans are as foolproof as always, Mr. Leader--"

"Seifer," Squall snapped. "Save it for later. We have to figure out what to do."

"You mean you'll figure out what to do and play me the fool again," Seifer said.

"I mean--"

"I didn't hike all the way out here to hostile territory to find out you screwed up," Seifer snarled, glancing inland toward DC and then back to the ships. "What's the plan this time, Squall? Try to convince them to take a mass diving contest? Huh. Ambush feast? I should have known--"

"What is wrong with you?" Squall asked. "Look at the fleet! We have to hold them off!"

"What's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong!" Seifer yelled. "It's--you, Mr. Leader, Great Hero, you--lame idiot!"

(What--) Squall wondered, pretty he didn't want to know.

"You don't even realize, do you!" Seifer was shaking, now, hand clenched so hard around the gunblade hilt Squall thought one or the other was going to shatter. "You have everything I ever wanted and you don't even realize! You were a damned legend at Balamb Garden, even before this all started! Did you ever notice the looks you got when you walked by? How everyone seemed to know your name? All I ever had was Fujin and Raijin! How long do you think I tried to get into SeeD, well? Then you come and boom! You get in SeeD just like that! And then when I finally get my dream, my dream, you have to come in! And then Fujin and Raijin go off with you, and then those SeeDs have the gall to make you their leader..."

(Wonder where he picked up that little bit of information,) Squall thought, as the rest of his brain scrambled over the flurry of assaults and accusations. (...whatever. We have to sort this out later. We don't have time for this...) "Seifer--"

"Shut up!" Seifer raged. "Just shut up! I have had it up to here with you--" he said, gesturing with the gunblade so violently that Squall thought he was about to cut his own head off. "I don't even know why I saved you! I should have let that Lieutenant kill you! That'd show everyone at Garden how great their little commanderwas!"

(He's mad,) Squall observed. (He's mad at himself, and he's taking it out on me.)

Seifer took his gunblade and threw it away, so that the tip buried itself in the ground and it stood up. "Come on!" he yelled. "Let's see how good you are!"

(We don't have time,) Squall thought. Then he did the hardest thing he had ever done--he backed down.

"I don't want to fight you, Seifer," he said, turning away.

"What?" Seifer asked, unbelieving. "What do you mean? You coward!" he screamed. He didn't want to just tell Squall how he felt. He wanted to hammer him.

Squall turned his back on him. The final insult.

"We have to get to Deling City," Squall said. He started walking, expecting that Seifer would fume all the way there, maybe even refuse to come--

--what he was not expecting was the blow that caught him on the back of his neck and plowed him into the ground.

Rolling out of the way of a vicious kick, Squall managed to get to his feet again in time to ward off another punch when Seifer's knee caught him in the stomach. Another blow to the face sent him reeling in the dust, feeling the new cut open again as the bandage was ripped off. Staggering to his feet again, he slammed his fist into the soft spot just below Seifer's ribcage, hearing him hiss in pain.

Seifer kicked Squall again, anger mounting as the younger SeeD rammed his fist into Seifer's face. He wasn't supposed to be fighting, he was supposed to be screaming in pain! Seifer wasn't going to lose, couldn't--the mere though that Squall might win, might come out on top, burst red behind his eyes. Seifer punched him again, catching him on the underside of the jaw. Kicking him hard in the stomach as he backed away, Seifer's eyes burned as Squall fell to the ground again.

Then he got up. It was infuriating--Squall just would not give up!

(Damn you! Do you have to prove you're the best at everything?)

The hard light in Squall's eyes made him even madder, and Seifer punched him again. Squall landed another punch at the base of Seifer's neck, and his head snapped to one side. Seifer hooked his foot behind Squall's ankles, tumbling him again, and kicked him hard in the side--savoring Squall's gasp and the bandage was nearly ripped off.

Squall got up.

was clibing to his feet when Seifer bent down, picked him bodily up by the front of his shirt, and threw him against a small rock outcropping. There was a sick, wet sound that his body made when it hit that played like music, like vindication, in Seifer's ears.

This time Squall didn't get up.

Seifer stood, incoherent thoughts rebounding inside his mind, hands clenchedand aching with the force of violence. Squall lay there, limp at the base of the outcrop, covered in dust and drygrass and little traces of blood. He stoof there, unable to keep himself from shaking with the adrenaline and the emotion--unable to slow his own breathing, to ignore the bruises he had taken.

Squall didn't get up.

The anger subsided--replaced with incomprehension. Squall wasn't moving. They had been fighting. Why wasn't he still attacking?--why wasn't he...

A low moan started somewhere deep in Seifer's chest, and he barely heard it. As quickly as he could bear--as slowly as he could manage--he made his way to his opponent, stared down at the battered form.

Grabbing Squall by the shoulder, he gave him a rough shake. Squall didn't respond. Grabbing the back of Squall's neck, he raised his head. Nothing.

(Oh, no. Oh no oh no. Dammit, damn you to hell, don't you be dead...)

Seifer's glove came away bloody.

Cursing, Seifer turned Squall over onto his stomach. Parting his hair, he saw that there was a sizeable cut at the base of his skull, bleeding heavily. Cursing again, Seifer looked around for something to staunch it with. Picking up the bandage that had been wrapped around Squall's forehead, he dusted it off as best he could and rolled it into a ball, which he placed behind the cut. It seemed as if Squall was breathing, at least--though Seifer was still shaking, and couldn't be sure.

He rolled Squall onto his back again, as carefully as he could. Then, retreiving his gunblade, he sat on another rock and waited.

And waited.

The ships were drawing steadily closer, and he guessed they would be there soon. Squall hadn't woken up yet, either, and he was beginning to wonder if he really had killed him. Maybe it was his imagination that he was breathing, maybe--

There was nothing more he could do, so he just waited.

And he waited.

The ships were almost close enough to dock, Seifer guessed that they would be swarming the shores within the next half hour. He had begun pacing, wondering if he could possibly have picked a worse time to beat Squall up, mentally berating himself for losses of control too numerous to mention--

Then a loud drone filled the air, and he swung around.

The ships were still slowly making their way towards land--nothing had changed there. But, he saw, in the opposite direction from the ships, there was a reddish object slowly descending.

(Is that--that's the Ragnarok!) Seifer nearly jumped. Looking at Squall, he wondered if he could drag him over. No, he didn't think it would be a good idea to move him, something he had read in preparations for a SeeD written test had told him. But--

Looking at the black ships, then the Ragnarok, he measured his chances with either one. The approaching army would smash him with greater ease than he might smash a bug, while with the crew of the Ragnarok he might at least have a chance to explain himself.

Quickly deciding, he grabbed his gunblade and ran for the airship.

-

Quistis stepped onto the dusty ground, chain whip at the ready. Zell followed, and Irvine followed him.

Quistis motioned out to she shoreline, hidden behind the bluffs. "It's unlikely that we'll be able to repulse the entire landing fleet," she said grimly, "but there's a chance we might be able to stall them, or find out their objectives. In any case--"

"Hey!" someone yelled, voice sounding far-away. "Quistis!"

Quistis jumped, turning to look down the hill. Squinting, she was able to make out a white trenchcoat.

(No,) she thought. (We have enough trouble. Please tell me that's not who I think it is...)

The person ran up towards her, waving one hand above his head. "Quistis!" he called again, and the voice made her sure. Only one person could produce that mix of urgency and arrogance: Seifer Almasy, black sheep of Garden.

"You have nerve, coming up here," Quistis said as soon as he got close enough. Galbadia was not an intelligent place for him to be, shouldn't he know that? Seifer stopped in his tracks as Quistis snapped her whip in front of him--a warning shot. "This really isn't the best time."

"Just listen," he said.

"YOU?" Zell had gotten over a bout of sudden shock and paralysis,

"Oh, don't act so surprised, chicken-wuss," Seifer snapped. "I don't have the time to be messin' around with you."

Irvine raised his gun to his shoulder. "Put down your weapon," he said.

"Damn it!" Seifer snapped. "I don't have time for this! I need you to come with me," he said, advancing towards them.

Quistis snapped her whip again, and he backed up. "We aren't going anywhere with you," she said. "We have rather urgent business to take care of here." (And, merciful Hyne help me, if I find out you're involved with this... fiasco...)

Seifer took a step towards Irvine. "Dammit! I'm not joking! I--"

"Back off!" Irvine yelled. Quistis's whip cracked and Seifer flinched back, raising both hands in a gesture half warding, half entreating.

"Damn you!" he raged. "Don't you ever want to see Squall again?"

That stopped Quistis. "Squall?" she said, then shook her head. "Squall is dead," she said, painfully.

"No, he's not! But he's going to be if you don't come!"

"You're lying," Quistis said, mind racing furiously. "How do we know we can trust you?"

Seifer took a step back, and threw his gunblade down so that it landed at Zell's feet. "Look," he said. "I'm--" he forced himself to say it-- "at your mercy. I can't do anything to you. Now will you please just follow me!"

Quistis looked at Zell, then back at Seifer.

"It might be an ambush," Irvine said. "He might have the whole army back there."

"I--the hell! I'm not on their side!" Seifer screamed at him. "And if you don't believe me then it's sure as hell Squall's not, and if you don't come and they land they're going to kill him! Now will you please just come?"

Quistis looked at Zell, who had taken custody of the gunblade. He nodded--cautiously. She looked back to Seifer, hand on her whip.

"All right. Lead the way."

Seifer turned and started down the hill, when Zell reached around and put the gunblade to his neck. Grabbing Seifer's arm with his free hand, he said, "If you're lying--"

Seifer paused in his tracks. (Being held up by chicken-wuss...) he thought. "Let me go," he said, "or I won't show you."

Zell looked at Quistis, who looked worried and, somehow, hopeful at the same time. She nodded, and Zell took the gunblade away from Seifer's throat. Pushing him forward, he put the point at his back. "Don't try anything."

"I won't," Seifer snarled.

"Zell," Quistis said.

Zell dropped the gunblade's tip. "Fine. Move it."

"I'm moving, I'm moving," Seifer grumbled. (And this is the very, very last time I'm ever letting you order me around, Dincht.)

As soon as Quistis saw the black-clad figure lying near the railroad tracks, she broke into a run to kneel at his side. Taking advantage when Zell paused, Seifer grabbed his gunblade back and straightened his coat.

"See?" he asked. "I told you, but nah, no one wants to believe me."

"Uh, oh," Irvine said. "Zell, we're going to have company really quick here."

Zell looked at the ships, and ran toward Quistis. Irvine followed, forgetting Seifer for the moment.

Quistis stood and looked at Irvine "We need to get him back to the Ragnarok," she said.

"Quistis," Irvine said. "Look at the shore."

Quistis looked over, and paled. "...They're coming," she said.

(Like I said--) Seifer thought.

"What the hell did you do to him?" Zell yelled at Seifer.

"Nothing permanent," Seifer called back. "I hope," he added under his breath.

"People," Irvine said. "We need to get out of here, unless we feel like fighting with wounded!"

"We can't move him like this," Quistis said. "We need a stretcher."

"Do you see a stretcher anywhere around here?" Seifer retorted.

"...we can't fight all of them," Zell said. "There's--there's a whole lot of them!"

The first ship slid up to shore, beaching itself. There was a pause as it extended a long plank to the ground. Quistis blinked: she hadn't realized quite how tall the ship was. The one she had boarded hadn't been nearly as large.

They were getting progressively larger, progressively stronger. That wasn't a good sign.

"Irvine," she said. "Give me your coat."

"What?" he asked.

"Your coat, Irvine. Give me your coat!"

Irvine shrugged sliding out of his camel trenchcoat. "You want my hat, too?"

Quistis spread the coat out next to Squall. As gently and as quickly as she could, she moved Squall so that his head, neck and shoulders were supported by the coat.

"Zell, grab his legs," Quistis instructed. "Irvine, you handle the coat. I'll stall the army." (Don't expect me to be able to for long.)

Irvine bent to pick up his coat, while Zell grabbed Squall's legs. Quistis turned away from them to the ships. Focusing as well as she could, she thought (Eden...)

Seifer put a hand on her shoulder, pulling her away and breaking her concentration. Rounding on him angrily, Quistis demanded "What are you doing?"

"Keeping you from getting yourself killed," Seifer said as he pulled her towards the Ragnarok. Quistis ducked out from under his arm, and faced him.

"I can take care of myself," she snapped.

"Not against that," Seifer said, pointing to the mass of people on the shore. Quistis shook her head.

"Eden could get them all," she said.

Seifer drew his gunblade. "Then I'm staying with you," he said.

"What!"

Seifer ignored her outburst. "If you're going to be idiotic enough to try this, you'll need someone to make sure no one kills you while you're summoning. I can't think of a better person than me."

The people were getting closer. Quistis glanced at them with growing concern.

"You're going to get yourself killed, you know that?" she said.

"And so are you," Seifer replied evenly.

Quistis hesitated, for a second, torn between wanting to slow the army and the irrational wish to keep Seifer alive. Why? Why did she want to protect him? It made no sense.

"Make a choice, Instructor," he said, stretching his blade arm out into his classical fighting stance. "Isn't that your favorite advice?"

He actually looked as if he was going to take on the entire army.

(Make a choice,) she told herself, echoing Seifer's words. Then she turned, grabbed Seifer's sleeve, and pulled him towards the Ragnarok.

-

"Back to Garden?" Nida asked, glancing at Seifer but directing his query towards Quistis. "Are you sure that's... uh, wise?"

Quistis nodded. "We need to get Squall back to the infirmary," she said.

"But--" Nida looked at Seifer again, unsure of what to say.

"He'll be coming with us," Quistis said.

"But--" Nida turned back to the controls, shrugging. "Never mind. Your decision, I guess. But we should do something about that army."

"Just go. Boot up the radios. I'll contact General Caraway to mobilize the Galbadian Army," Quistis planned.

"And Fisherman's Horizon?"

"We can hit the intercontinental railroad," Quistis said, looking at he thin grey line in the distance and the black swarm slowly moving across it. "No one uses that thing anyway, and it will stop them."

Nida nodded. "All right. Will someone who's not Seifer please take the weapons controls?"

"Up, Seifer," Irvine said, gesturing with his hand. Seifer stood up and moved out of the way, smirking thinly to disguise his continually bruised ego. The Ragnarok rose gently off the ground, turned, and headed for the railroad. "Arming main beam cannon," he said. Then, looking out the forward window, he added "What's the range of this weapon?"

"It didn't exactly come with an instruction manual," Nida said. Irvine shrugged.

"Firing."

The beam of energy flew out, decimating the bridge in front of the army. Several meters of bridge shuddered and fell, taking a fair number of soldiers with it. Somehow, Irvine found it hard to feel bad about the casualties.

"Heading back to Garden," Nida said, setting the Ragnarok into full speed.

-

The Commodore Suite was as crowded as it ever got.

Squall was stretched out on the floor, breathing shallowly under the influence of several Curagas. Quistis knelt next to him, staring as if trying to convince herself that he was alive--that he was solid, that he was there. Zell leaned against the wall, holding a similar vigil. Overall, silence reigned.

"Man, I feel stupid," Zell remarked at length.

"What do you mean?" Quistis asked, glancing up at him. Zell stared at Squall, scratching his head absently.

"This is going to make for a pretty lousy report, you know? I mean, 'well, we killed most of the army in FH, then we went to convince Ellone you were dead, then we moped for a bit, then--' "

Quistis sighed, brushing an errant strand of hair off Squall's face. "We didn't handle that very well, did we?"

Zell chuckled, low beneath his breath. "Quist--we thought he was dead. I'm not sure I'd want us to handle that well."

Quistis smiled gently--then paused. "What do you think about Seifer?"

"Seifer?" Zell asked. "Don't trust him, never have, never will. We should ditch him ASAP, preferably over the ocean. Maybe while we're still going fast."

Zell's words were harsh, but his voice belied them. It said, clear as anything, I don't know. "Mm," Quistis said. "I'd like to know what he's up to."

Zell made a face. "Remember the Lunatic Pandora? 'I've always gotta be doing something BIG!' As if he could ever get anything to match his ego. Anyway, I don't want to be around when he starts his next little plot."

"Not even to keep an eye on him?" Quistis asked. Zell shook his head.

"Not even." He looked up at the ceiling, but his voice was less than decisive. "Not even..."