Aww yeah! Back with some more chapters! I'm occasionally including some music references now. Sometimes lyrics will be included, other times it's just a song that I found fitting for the scene. They're good, okay?! Get them!! =)

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Musical Accompaniment: "Babylon" by Circle of Dust

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] Boarding Area

] Train Station

] Trabian Mountains

Two machinegun-armed guards, adorned by thick vests and metal helmets, simultaneously pushed keycards into slots on the windowless door. Aren waited impatiently behind them, adjusting his dark crimson sweatshirt. Selphie was at his side; Irvine and Quistis stood just behind.

Aren hoped the guards would not escort them further than the train. They were such an insult to him; he guessed that at his young age of nineteen, he had more combat experience than these adult soldiers could dream of. But the good city of Balamb insisted that these measures were necessary, and he obliged.

The protective measures Balamb had offered seemed rediculous to him. Once the crew of the original train got word of the attack, the train was stopped at the nearest station, and Aren's group was carefully escorted to an armored truck. They were driven, carefully protected, all the way back to Galbadia, where a fully-armored Balamb military train carried them on the exact train track they had just taken. Two days had been shaved off Irvine's leave of absence now, and Aren could be called to active duty at any time.

The second ride to Trabia had been painfully uncomfortable. Aren was convinced that they had been locked in some sort of converted prison car. The walls, floor and ceiling were raw, thick steel. Of course, there were no windows, and the only door was tightly sealed and locked. Two guards were supposed to stand inside the car and keep watch, but the group had successfully shooed them out. The beds and benches were cold metal with flimsy sheets. The sound of the mighty train reverberated through that little car, and bounced between those steel walls so badly that Aren could scarcely contain himself.

But this time around, his comrades shared in the discomfort. Even they recieved bad headaches. After the first few hours, Quistis had begun showing signs of claustrophobia. And it was not long before Irvine and Selphie felt the same discomfort. It was a long, terrible night, but they had finally made it through.

They now stood at the end of the steel hallway to the car's exit. A musical beep came from the carefully-riveted door. Keycards slid out from their insets, and the guards snatched them up. The door hissed slowly away.

Rustic mountain air blasted them invitingly. Aren shoved the soldiers aside, and leapt down from the train before the rolling ladder could connect with it. His friends did the same.

"We did it!" shouted Irvine victoriously. "We were shot at, kicked around, and locked in a metal box for two days, but we made it to Trabia!"

Selphie and Aren gave a cheer, and Quistis smiled in amusement. She stretched her arms wide. "Thank goodness! I thought I'd go crazy in that contraption."

One of the soldiers tapped Aren on the shoulder. "Will you be needing our assistance further?" he asked professionally.

"I didn't need you in the first place!" Aren laughed.

Quistis cut between him and the soldier, and smiled courteously. "Thank you, sir, but we're able to go from here."

"Very good," nodded the soldier. He stepped back up the now-connected rolling ladder, and joined his teammate, who stood at the open doorway.

Aren rolled his eyes behind a pair of round black goggles, organic-looking things that jutted from his face like the eyes of an insect. He once again faced his friends. They stood in an impromptu line, facing their new destination. The grassy plain they stood on seemed to stretch for miles in meandering paths between towering, majestic mountains capped in snow. About a half-mile in the distance was a beastly mountain formation, wrapped in a near circle. But there was a partition on the giant rocks. In the center of this formation, lay a mass of rubble and crumbling buildings.

Selphie watched the city of Trabia with intent eyes. "Well, everyone," she said, "welcome home."

---

] Xann Ave.

] Downtown Trabia

] Trabia

"So, where'd you get those shades, man?"

Irvine turned, and pointed to Aren's bubble-sunglasses, as they maneuvered the smashed road that ran through downtown Trabia. Small shops at either end of them were crushed, and some were totally flattened, from the massive boulders of concrete that had fallen from Trabia Garden so long ago. Whatever structures still remained were scorched with sut and burn marks.

"Yes," remarked Quistis, "I've never seen that style worn before..."

Aren nodded. "It's Terran, I brought 'em from home."

Irvine laughed, and poked at the curved glass. "Wow, you've had those things for, like, ages! You held onto 'em for this long?"

"Guess so," said Aren. "Always carry a spare."

Selphie halted them, and motioned to her right. At the side of the road, between the rubble of two demolished buildings, was a giant boxlike tent. It stood two or three stories, and was maybe fifty yards wide; they could not tell how deep. Windows were cut from the fabric, and their flaps carried in the wind. Several wide entrances were pinned open.

Selphie gave a smile. Aren noticed it, and knew it was forced.

"If you guys don't mind," she said, "I've gotta stop here for a while. There's some...um...some people I need to say 'hi' to."

Aren looked into the tent. It was dark, and his eyesight was blurry without the aid of the sound within the tent. But he noticed a young lady walk by inside, passing across the front entrance. She wore a white cap with a red cross emblazoned in the front.

Irvine nodded. "Tell ya' what, we'll go look around, okay? We'll come back in like a half-hour."

Quistis agreed. "I'd like to meet with the garden master, myself. Maybe we can offer some assistance while we're here."

"Thanks, guys!" said Selphie. "I won't be long!"

She began toward the middle entrance of the tent. Aren caught up, and tapped her shoulder. "Hey, Selphie...want me to come?" he offered.

Irvine thumbed him back. "Aren! Ix-nay!!" he whispered.

Selphie thought for a moment, and gave a little sigh. "Well...I dunno if you...really want to."

"Sure I do!" he smiled confidently. "Unless you'd rather I take off, and that's fine too..."

"Uhm..." she ruffled her hair a bit. "You're sure?"

"Yup."

"Uh...okay, then! Come on in."

Aren waved to Irvine and Quistis. "Have fun!"

---

Heat throwers worked double-time to keep some warmth inside the tent. Hundreds of medical cots were lined in a dozen rows. Volunteers ran between the maze of beds, treating scores of sick children.

Selphie glanced up to Aren. His visage was calm, his bug-eyes scanning the area as they walked down one of the long rows. That's odd, she thought. He doesn't seem nervous! Gosh, even I'm nervous!

"These children were all playing too close to the blast site," she explained. "They were poisoned by radiation. The adult hospital is down the street."

Aren nodded as they continued. Selphie smiled, and waved to the children, and many would wave back, or offer a greeting.

This is gonna be tough, she thought. "Aren, you can stay here if you want."

He did not respond, but continued at her side. He also smiled, and greeted the children as he went on.

A nurse carefully stepped between two beds, and halted them. She was an older woman, dark-skinned with a worn face. The shirt and pants she wore were stained with a thousand fluid medicines.

"Selphie!" she cried, and gave the girl a warm hug. "Selphie, it's great to see you!"

Selphie smiled, a real smile. "You too, Miss Gera! How's everything?"

"Oh, wonderful!" the woman replied, and began to walk with Selphie and Aren. "And who's this you've brought with you?"

Aren extended a cordial hand to her. "Aren Bowes, ma'am, nice to meet you."

"Oh, and you too, Aren!" She gave him a hearty handshake, and pointed to Selphie with a little wink.

"Miss Gera, come on!" Selphie laughed.

Gera patted her shoulder. "What? I did nothing! Anyhow, what brings you back?"

"Oh, Aren's doing some research on Trabia. I guess I'm giving him the guided tour."

"Well that's just wonderful!" said Gera. "Stay as long as you'd like, Aren! We don't have much, but we sure are friendly!"

Aren nodded. "Thank you! It sure seems so."

"Well," she continued, "I'm afraid I can't talk long. Nurse's work is never done. I'll see you both soon!" Gera waved, and walked briskly off.

Selphie laughed. "She's never in one place long enough to have a conversation!"

Aren smiled and nodded. "Seems nice, though."

She sighed. "Yeah...if I could just get these people some resources..."

"Hey, we'll work on it! Don't sweat."

The long line of cots came to an end, and another set of larger beds began. Selphie glanced at a sign on one of the tent posts, that read "Rehabilitation Area." Oh gosh, here we go, she thought.

More children lay on the rehabilitation beds. Some were missing limbs or pieces thereof, others were burned, still others suffered from gashes or stab wounds. None of the children seemed to be crying, and few even looked tired. Rather, most were restless and fidgety.

Selphie stopped at each bed now, and had a word with almost all of the children. Many knew her by name, and asked about the stranger beside her. And every time, Aren gladly introduced himself, and offered a light handshake or a pat on the shoulder. Selphie was amazed. Not once did Aren flinch at the gory sights, or skip to another bed, or pretend he did not notice a child. He insisted that he meet every one. When he was introduced to a girl with no arms, he smiled widely and ruffled her hair.

The area was bustling with the mention of Selphie's name. She laughed to Aren, as they stopped for a moment. "Gets a bit overwhelming at times, but they're good kids. They're still recovering from the blast. Most of them have stayed here, and the nurses have looked after them. I come and visit when I can."

She snapped her fingers, and grabbed Aren by the shoulder. "Aren," she exclaimed, "there's somebody you've got to meet!"

They stepped to the middle of the tent, where the volunteer therapists were helping some of the children exercise. Selphie pointed to a young boy about ten, skinny and pale-faced with dark auburn hair. He wore a puffy sweatshirt that was at least two sizes too big for him. His right arm seemed to inadequately fill the sleeve. The boy lay on the dirt and concrete ground, performing push-ups. Most of his weight was shifted to the left side.

Selphie called excitedly. "Hey, Devon! I'm back!"

The boy leapt, and his face lit up. He sprinted to Selphie and gave her a big hug. "Hey, Seffie!" he squealed.

"Aw, you're lookin' great!" she praised, and shoved him away. "Pretty soon you're gonna be arm-wrestling Greev over there!"

Devon laughed. "Yeah, maybe with my left arm!"

"What, you don't think you can do it with the right?"

"Nah, it's really been hurtin' lately...I don't think it's getting any better. I'm kinda wondering if..."

The boy noticed Aren. "Hold it!" he cried. "You...you're Terran, ain't you?"

Aren extended his hand. "Yeah, my name's Aren! How'd you know?"

The boy pointed a rather strong-looking left arm at him. "Those are Terran army specs! Wow, you're a soldier?!"

"Yup, I fought in the Galbadia Conflict. You're pretty observant!"

Devon folded his hands proudly. "You know, I'm Terran!"

Selphie giggled as Aren stumbled back. "No way!" he exclaimed. "Whoa! Okay, well, you're a little after my time, so you must have been in...the Gate Three Recapture, right?"

"Oh, yeah!" the boy laughed, and played along. He rolled up his oversized sleeve, and revealed his right arm. It was scarred, gashed, and skinny compared to his other.

Devon smiled proudly. "Got this one at Gate Three," he falsely bragged. "Took fire from a Galbadian X-12."

Aren nodded grimly and professionally. "Tough break, soldier. Okay, check this out." He rolled up his own sleeve. Aren's right arm had a long, white scar running from wrist to shoulder. "Battle of the Crawlers. VR-55 shell went right through my Screamer, in here, and out there."

"Whoa!" Devon awed.

"Eww!" cringed Selphie.

---

Irvine stopped at a giant boulder in the road. The street was cracked and bowed, and it dropped a good three feet behind the boulder.He stepped to the side, and swooped his arm forward, for Quistis to advance.

Quistis smiled and cocked an eye. "Always the gentleman, weren't you?" she said, and bowed a deep thank-you. She took his gloved hand. Irvine carefully lowered her to the road below.

"Oh, I try," he returned, and leapt to the ground beside her. The wind fought to remove his hat; he held it in place. "Still can't figure out who those guys were that attacked us."

"Me either," shrugged Quistis. "Think they were just robbers?"

"Doubt it," said Irvine. "Firepower like that is hard to come by. Expensive, too, and tough to use without fillin' yourself with holes."

"Hmm. Well, they couldn't possibly be Galbadian, could they?"

She watched Irvine shake his head, and glance up at one of the crumbling buildings. "Nah. Galbadia's without a military. Been that way ever since the whole sorceress thing got sorted out." Irvine sighed, and rubbed his forehead, a small chuckle leaving his lips. "We'll have to go over it with Aren. Hyne knows he's already got it figured out!"

They sat at a parkbench, bent slightly by the cracked ground under it. Quistis quickly folded her arms. She sat upright and professional, a serious gaze straight forward. She noticed Irvine's careless sprawl on his end of the bench.

Oh, Hyne, she thought. Where do I start?

"So, Irvine...where've you been all this time? I tried to contact you quite a few times. Galbadia Garden said you'd been transferred, or something to that effect..."

Irvine nodded, and pulled off his cowboy hat. He spun it lightly on his finger. "Yup, got sent to aid the Terrans in the Galbadia Conflict, just after the fall of the sorceress. That's where I met Aren. He was one of the Screamer jockeys that escorted my transport around Terra."

"You fought in Terra?" Quistis awed. She placed her leather palms on her hips. "You're putting me on!"

With a shrug, Irvine carelessly grasped the blue vest under his trench coat. He pulled it down some, and leaned to Quistis. Under his collarbone, a pale circular scar was lifted from the right side of his chest. "See?" he smiled, and pulled the vest back up.

Quistis raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'll be darned! Wow, what's it...like there?" She slouched a bit, and tried to imitate Irvine's careless stance. She succeeded in becoming rather uncomfortable-looking.

"Uh...nice, real nice." Irvine straightened his posture a bit, and pulled up his trench coat some. "Don't remember most of the details, though. Had a bad reaction to the stab."

"Egh," Quistis cringed, rubbing below her own neck. "That must've been horrible. That stab."

Irvine chuckled a bit, and exhaled. "The stab was nothing," he sighed. He sat in silence for a moment, but soon perked up. "But hey, I digress! Anyway, that's where I was. How 'bout you?"

Quistis smiled feebly, and slapped her knees. "Just at Balamb. I'm instructor again, so I'm keeping busy. Now that I'm the only one of us left there, people kinda look up to me."

"That's cool. Gettin' the treatment, eh?"

"Oh, in the worst way!" She laughed a little, and slumped back on the bench. "Sometimes I'd just like to run away from that place."

Irvine raised an eyebrow. "What'd you rather do?"

"Oh, I dunno," she trailed. But she thought, this, this is what I'd like to do.

---

Aren looked over Devon's shriveled arm, carefully running his thumb over the muscles. "You know," he said, "I had a buddy once that got the same deal to his arm. From an X-12 and everything."

"Oh yeah?" Devon replied, pulling his sleeve back down as Aren released.

"Yeah. Tell you what though, soldier, us Terrans are fighters." He patted Devon on the back. "My pal recovered just fine. I've got confidence that you will too."

The boy smiled, and saluted with his good arm. "Thank you, sir!"

Aren returned a professional salute. He noticed Selphie stand, and he did the same. "Good to meet you, Devon. Now hurry up and heal that thing, soldier! We gotta get you in a Screamer!"

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir! Oh, bye Seffie!"

Selphie gave Devon a hug, and Aren heard her recieve some mumblings from Devon to the effect of, "not in front of my superior!" Selphie nodded, and she and Aren headed for the tent's entrance.

"Aren," she smiled, "that was really sweet of you."

Aren grinned. "He seems like a good kid, he just needs the drive. Maybe that'll motivate him a little."

"A little? He thought the world of you!" She poked him in the ribs. "And that bit about the 'soldier' was really cute, too!"

"Eh, I guess..." Aren shrugged. "Why?"

"Oh, come on! Devon's ten years old!"

A solemn nod from Aren. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he replied. "He's got a couple of years yet."

Selphie double-taked, as they stepped once again into daylight. "You...you're serious?"

"Sure," Aren half-smiled. "That's Terra. I was in a Screamer at fourteen. If he was in Terra, .he'd probably do the same. Only if he enlisted, that is."

"You...you fought wars? At fourteen?"

Aren nodded, as if there was nothing abnormal about this.

"Whoa," Selphie sighed. "Talk about skipping your childhood!"

"Come on! I had a great childhood!" Aren laughed, and brushed forward his long hair. "I mean, while my buddies in Dollet had their little dirtbikes, I was tearin' up the streets in a Screamer!"

She looked up, and forced a smile for him. She watched him force one back.

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