Chapter 6: Judge, Jury, Executioner

Melchiah closed the door to his room and inhaled deeply. He had asked Wolfe if she'd like to accompany him to the elevator, but she politely declined, saying she had a few "important matters" to attend to. 'Strange that she found the time to feed me breakfast and cut my bandages," Melchiah thought with a smile. He made his way down the somewhat crowded hallway, pushing past the other Genesis agents to turn to his right and make his way down to the end, to the elevator.

Melchiah had pushed the call button at the elevator doors when he heard that loud, corn-fed voice bellow at the end of the hall. "Mel! 'Ey Mel!" The stitched gash on Melchiah's head pounded with furious pain at the booming sound as he turned around and saw, of course, Sam.

"…Hey, Sam."

"Hey," replied Sam, who was panting slightly from the dead sprint he'd made from the end of the hall to his friend. He never missed the chance to talk someone's ear off. "So you're goin' up to see the General, huh?"

"That's right."

Sam patted him on the shoulder. "Well I just wanted to catch ya before ya went in to wish ya good luck."

"Well thanks, Sam. I appreciate that."

Sam smiled proudly at Melchiah for a few seconds, nodding, then widened his eyes, as if remembering something. "Oh, yeah. I almost fergot…" His massive hand reached into his shirt and pulled out a long loop of nearly rotted string. A long, curved tooth dangled at the end, it's off-white color giving off a dull shine in the florescent lighting. Sam brought it up to eye level, swinging it back and forth slowly, his large eyes staring at it with entranced fascination. "…Do you know what this is, Mel?" he asked, almost in a whisper.

"Well, as a matter of fact, Sam, y-"

"This here is the fang of the very first Anacondaur I ever did shoot."

"Sam, I know-"

"You know the story behind this?"

"Yes."

"Ya don't? Lemme tell ya."

"I just said yes."

"I was seventeen years old, about six months before my paw gave me the Stinger. I had went off in woods to take leak, when I hear this giant crash. I look to my left, I look to my right, then I look behind me, and there I see the biggest Anacondaur that ever lived. Fifty feet long, fifty!" He slapped Melchiah in the back, who was rolling his eyes for about the fourth or fifth time, and gave him a hearty smile. "So I raise my rickety ol' rifle, Ol' Wood and Windy I called 'er, and closed my eyes, prayin' to the faeries to get lucky, and shoot. And when I open them, the damned thing is impaled by a tree branch through the head! It stabbed itself when it tried to dodge my shot!" Sam was already roaring with laughter by the second `to last sentence, he slapped Melchiah on the back again.

"Whaddya think about that, Mel?"

"It gets better and better every couple of hundred times I hear it, Sam." Melchiah replied sarcastically. A soft chime came from the elevator and the doors opened. Two fat cafeteria ladies walked out, and Sam tipped his hat to them. "Mornin', Agnes. Mornin', Helen. Y'all gonna whip up sommah that country style beans and cornbread for lunch today?"

The slightly fatter cafeteria lady, Helen, nodded and gave Sam a wry smile. "Sure thing, hon." she said in a thick city accent. "I'll make yours just the way you like it. Extra beans with a little chewing tobacco."

"Does a body good," Sam said with a laugh. He tipped his hat again and watched the two ladies make their way down the hall.

'Chewing tobacco?' Melchiah thought, feeling a little sick to his stomach.

"Well," Melchiah said. "Here's the elevator, Sam. I gotta go."

"Wait a sec," Sam said, holding out the trinket to Melchiah. "Take it. It's for good luck."

"Whoa, Sam. I dunno."

"C'mon, take it. It's always brought me luck. I figgered that you might need some up there."

"Sam, I can't-"

"No, Mel. I insist. Take it."

"No, Sam. No way-"

"Just take the damn tooth!" Sam yelled, shoving it into Melchiah's chest. Melchiah looked at the tooth for a moment, then at Sam. Sighing, he let the tooth fall into his hand.

"Thanks, Sam."

"No prob, bud." Sam replied, giving his friend a bright smile. "C'mon back with some good news, y'hear?"

"I will. See you later." Melchiah said, stepping into the elevator.

Sam waved. 'Almost waving like it was the last time he'd ever see his friend,' Melchiah thought.

"We'll be in the cafeteria waitin' for ya!" Sam said. And the doors closed.

Melchiah pushed the button marked "Floor 7". There was a slight jerk, and the elevator began to move. After a few seconds, he looked up at the floor indicator and saw that it was already on the fifth floor, a little faster than he had anticipated, giving absolutely no time to compose himself or even figure out what to say. But he wasn't at all surprised. 'It all follows suit with the luck I've been having nowadays, anyway.'

Ding!

The elevator chimed again, and the shiny metallic doors slid open to reveal the office of General Caraway.

The office, for lack of better words, was nothing short of spectacular. Lush, red carpet spread from wall to wall with a complete set of polished cherrywood furniture; a couch, six chairs, and a recliner were spread out decoratively across the broad expanse of the room. But the most impressive part was straight ahead. The entire back wall, which really wasn't a wall at all, was a window. One giant panel of glass was in place of stucco and stone to give the occupants of the room a beautiful view of the great rolling hills of Galbadia. Serving as a backdrop to the hills, the great mountain range the separated Galbadia from the rest of the continent rose up like a sky-high, snowcapped wall. In other words, the view was breathtaking. Finally, Melchiah's eyes drifted back over to the middle of the room, where, sitting behind an immense cherrywood desk, his fingers intertwined in a powerful fold in front of him, was General Caraway. He wore a jet black uniform which match his eyes that seemed to stare right through anything (a feat that was being directed at Melchiah for that moment), his sharp facial features crimped into a blank expression. And beside him was Thorton, his flaccid face pushed up in a swaggering smile that almost supported his red, sagging eyes.

'Must be the bastards finest hour,' Melchiah observed, trying to act as professional as he could in front of Caraway. As much as he hated it, he saluted. "Reporting as requested, sir." he said unenthusiastically.

"At ease, Captain Kraven," said the General, his voice steady. "Please, sit down."

Melchiah took a deep breath and sat down in the chair in front of Caraway's desk,

glancing once again at Thorton's arrogant smile.

"I see that your bandages are finally off," said Caraway. "I trust that you're feeling well?"

"…Yes, sir."

"That's good," Caraway said, standing up from his chair, beginning to walk to the left wall where the liquor cabinet was located. "I suppose your wondering why you're here, Captain."

"Not entirely, sir." replied Melchiah. Shooting a look at Thorton, who seemed to be enjoying himself thoroughly.

"Really?" asked the General, picking up a decanter full of amber liquid to pour himself a glass. "Then you know that you were sent to Winhill two weeks ago to carry out orders under the command of Major Thorton? Because I'm not sure that you did, being as you directly disobeyed him. Am I wrong?"

Caraway's sarcasm wasn't helping Melchiah feel better about this meeting at all. It was going to hell in a hand basket quicker than he anticipated. "Yes, sir."

"Am I? So you knew that Major Thorton was your superior during that time and you still directly disobeyed his orders?" he asked, going back to his desk with a drink.

"…Yes, sir."

Caraway took a sip of his drink, as Thorton beamed. "I see," he said. "Captain Kraven, are you aware of what your actions cost Galbadia?"

Melchiah knew full well what his actions cost his country, but he preferred to let it come from the General's mouth, in small hope that he might miss something else he did. He shook his head, pushing his heart back down his throat with a large swallow. "No, sir."

General Caraway looked at Melchiah for a moment, his dark eyes piercing him like a pair of knives. "Captain," he started, "Due to your failure to follow orders, you caused a major break in the chain of command, the allocation of fifteen battle ready Galbadian soldiers to the wrong coordinates, the dejection of Major Thorton's authority, the invasion and sacking of Winhill…"

Melchiah had originally expected to be charged with the aforementioned accusations until Caraway completely shocked him with the news of the loss of Winhill, which meant that the consequences of his actions would be much more dire. A court marshal was now nearly inevitable. His eyes widened a bit and he fidgeted in his chair when it reached his ears. "…and the vulnerability of invasion in our entire southwest territory."

"In other words," the least wanted voice of Thorton cut in. "You've made one hell of a mess. Is that a correct assessment, General?"

The General gave only a nod after Thorton spoke, his piercing black eyes still stabbing through the back of Melchiah's skull. And Melchiah kept his eyes on the General, and his mouth shut. As much as a just wanted to get up and beat the piss out of the sagging old bastard standing beside the desk, he wasn't stupid.

"Do you disagree with any of these accusations, Captain?" asked the General, his voice getting more menacing by the moment.

"…No, sir."

There was complete silence for a moment, then the General spoke again. "Captain, as a member of the Genesis, you are also considered a member of one of the most exclusive and elite forces in the world. You are expected to conduct yourself in such a manner. Your behavior two weeks ago was completely unbecoming of your rank in the military and contradicted the supposed knowledge, training, and discipline a soldier such as yourself possesses."

"Yes, sir."

"Furthermore," he continued. "Genesis is a fledgling organization designed to carry out special operations and protect Galbadia from SeeD, it's greatest opponent to date. Your arrogance and failures two weeks ago did nothing to improve the reputation and integrity of this project. There are many people over in Deling City who would love to see us go under, and you have just given them one more reason to pull the plug, do you understand?" For a split second, Caraway's dark eyes darted in Thorton's direction, who was smirking snobbishly at Melchiah.

"Yes, sir" Melchiah replied. His heart sank deeper into his stomach as he clutched Sam's tooth tightly in his hand.

"As you may well know, Captain," continued the General, finishing off the rest of his drink. "I can't take this matter lightly. The decision I've made has come after much deliberation, and I see no other suitable course of action."

Melchiah knew that Thorton couldn't hold it in much longer. He knew the old fart wanted to start dancing right there in the office, the look on his face told him that much. At that moment, he almost thought it was worse knowing that Thorton won than being discharged from Genesis. But then, the General said something unexpected.

"Major, you may leave us."

Thorton's sagging jowls fell like boulders down his face at the sound of those words, his mouth opening into a gaping hole. "Leave?! But-but General!"

"You've seen enough. Now leave, and that's an order."

Thorton looked as if he was about to have a core meltdown. To put it a little more crudely, he looked like he had been interrupted and dismissed right at the critical moment of a good sexual encounter. Nevertheless, face red, eyes bloodshot with anger, he straightened his back and presented a firm salute.

"Yes, sir." With that, he shot a furious look at Melchiah, who was trying his best not to smile, turned on his heels and left the office.

General Caraway had watched Thorton leave in silence. When the elevator doors closed behind him, Caraway looked at Melchiah in a more lax fashion and held up his empty liquor glass. "Have a drink?"

Melchiah shook his head, smiling. 'This is more like it', he thought. "No, thanks."

The General simply shrugged the black shoulders of his uniform and stood up, moving towards the liquor cabinet once more. "Sorry about the whole inquisition back there. Had to put on a show to keep Thorton and the rest of the Army at bay."

Melchiah was a bit shocked by that statement, especially since he believed the sincerity of every word that the General said with Thorton in the room. If at all he didn't cut it as a general, he definitely had promise in acting. However, Melchiah decided to play it cool, anyway. "I understand." (Now that Thorton was out of the room, the formalities such as "sir" were to be thrown out. Both the General and Melchiah didn't care for such things. Besides, they had become friends.)

Caraway finished pouring his second glass, and took a hefty sip. He wiped the excess alcohol from his mouth with the back of his sleeve, and walked back to his desk. He threw Melchiah that lax look again. "Just to let you know, even though Winhill was invaded and captured, it wasn't sacked."

This time Melchiah couldn't help but look surprised. "Really?"

Caraway took yet another sizable sip from his glass and nodded. "Yes. Major Thorton did the report paperwork from the mission, which said that the city had been sacked. I had a few doubts, so I sent a team out to observe Winhill."

"And there weren't any damages?" Melchiah asked.

"It hasn't even been touched," replied Caraway, sitting back in his chair. "I think that SeeD's been hiring themselves out again. Otherwise, I don't think that they would've cared what happened to it."

Suddenly, Melchiah remembered what he overheard the two SeeDs talking about prior to his attack. "They are."

The General's eyebrows rose in intrigue. "Is that right? How'd you find that out?"

"Two SeeDs were talking about it. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time." Melchiah knew he was giving out further incriminating evidence about his botching the mission, but he knew that not a word would be spoken of that outside the office. "Looks like Esthar's behind this one."

The General simply shook his head. "Dammit, just what we need. Esthar kicking us in the ass while we're already down. It's a damn good thing that idiot Deling is dead. Knowing him, he would've put another sorceress in office after all this, then we'd really be in trouble."

"Do we have anything to really worry about, though?" asked Melchiah. "I mean, Esthar has problems of its own, and taking back Winhill will be a breeze with more men."

Caraway shrugged. "I suppose, but that's the Army's problem now. I only hope they can get it together before Soren officially takes office."

"Soren? Soren Deling?" asked Melchiah, looking puzzled. "But isn't he only twenty-nine or something like that?"

The General shrugged, finishing off the glass of alcohol with a tremendous gulp. "Yes, but he is Vinzer's son. And if he makes the same mistakes that his old man did, we're through." He set the glass down and sighed. "But at this point, I'd rather have my mother in office than another Vinzer Deling, so I'll gladly accept Soren with open arms until he screws up. "

Melchiah nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

There was a few seconds of awkward silence, then the General spoke again.

"Well, let's cut the chit-chat and boil it down to business," he said.

There was a sinking feeling in Melchiah's stomach as he concurred. "Alright…" He held his first question back, but then decided to go on with it. If he didn't ask now, he'd find it out anyway.

"Am I getting court marshaled?"

Caraway hesitated a moment, then shook his head slowly. "I pulled a few strings up in Deling City to convince the big wigs up there not to go ahead with the court marshal. The plain and simple truth, Captain, is that you're just to valuable to lose to a court marshal. You, Lieutenant Craft and Lieutenant Wolfe are among the best the Galbadian military has to offer. Once I convinced the others of that, a court marshal seemed all but an idiotic course of action to take."

Melchiah sighed and relaxed in his chair, "Thanks, General. I owe you one-"

"Whoa, now son." the General cut in. " Don't think that you've gotten off the hook just yet. You didn't let me finish. The Army still wants blood for this."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't honestly think those old crotchety geezers would let a young, talented, strapping lad like yourself off scot free, do you?" The General asked with a laugh.

"I'm guessing that they're not."

"Right you are, Captain. I had to do a little bargaining to avoid a court marshal as well. Something both good for you and them. But more so for them." he replied, now spinning the glass round and round face up on his desk. "I'm sending you on a mission."

In a few short seconds, Melchiah's mood went from joyous to confused. If what the

General said was true, it sounded like what he was getting was more reward than punishment. He loved missions, especially those with Sam and Wolfe. Major havoc was wreaked on those kinds.

"Excuse me, did you just say I'm going on a mission?"

The General nodded. "Yes, but it's no ordinary mission. I trust you remember your training on covert and undercover operations?"

"Yes," Melchiah said. He'd never done a mission like that before, but the training was easy enough to wing. Well, that's how it was to him, anyway. However, the way the General was speaking made him uneasy.

"Good, because Lieutenants Wolfe and Craft won't be joining you for this one. You're doing it solo." Caraway said. He leaned in closer to Melchiah from his desk, letting his face return to the grim state it was in prior to Thorton's dismissal. He spoke in a low voice. "Captain, whatever else that is said beyond this point is Section Five classified. If any of this leaks out, you'll be in a world of shit that I can't even get you out of. Do you understand?"

Now it was confirmed. This was serious. In response, Melchiah leaned in a little closer to the General and nodded. From what he was told, Section Fives weren't thrown out unless there was a damn good reason to. "Yes, I understand."

"Very well," the General said, then leaning back in his chair. "I'll give you only a quick overview of your objectives. You're paperwork and supplies containing the details will be delivered to you tomorrow before you leave." He pushed one of the many books on his desk out of the way to reveal a button underneath. He pushed it, and a large projection screen descended from the tall ceiling behind him, obstructing the view of the mountains. He pushed the button again, and the screen blinked a few times in a blue light, then it revealed a map of the entire world.

Through all of this, Melchiah had been thinking. 'Tomorrow?' he thought. 'Why so soon? I just woke up from a coma.' But in rethinking it again, he decided he didn't have any place to argue with it. He let the General continue. Caraway swiveled around in his chair and pointed to the small piece of earth in the middle of the map, surrounded by water.

"Your first objective," the General said. "Is to arrive at this at the Balamb train station at 1000 hours two days from now."

"Balamb? What's in Balamb except-" Melchiah froze in mid-sentence, his cold, steely blue eyes staring straight into the General's, who was staring right back at him.

"There you will make use of fabricated identification and a blue Garden training uniform that will be provided for you at the train station in Timber. In addition, you are to go to the docks and secure a sea-going vessel. From there, you'll travel by car to Balamb Garden. That's your first objective. Get to Balamb Garden and get a boat. Understand?"

Melchiah slowly nodded. "Yes." he said. He was nervous, but excited at the same time, which was turning his stomach into knots.

The General cleared his throat and pressed the button again, which caused another slide to appear. Balamb Garden, it's beautiful, white, and curvatious architecture standing out among the green grass of the puny Balamb countryside.

"Your second objective is to gain access to Balamb Garden. By this time, you'll be wearing your uniform and have your ID prepared. You'll also have with you fake transfer papers from Galbadia Garden. You're verbal cover story will be that you are transferring from Galbadia Garden in order to be closer to your family and fiancée in Fisherman's Horizon. If anyone asks about anything that may compromise your cover story, say that you're in a hurry and leave. Or, if the questioner is the only one in sight or earshot, eliminate him. Or her. Do you understand your second objective?"

"Yes."

"Good." The General said. "Your third and most important objective is to capture and escape with Balamb Garden's potentially most dangerous weapon. A weapon that the Grand Military Staff in Deling City would wipe your record clean to know that it's out of the SeeD's hands."

Melchiah spoke sternly, his vivid eyes trained inside the General's invisible pupils.

"General, what exactly is this weapon?"

"Captain," The General replied. "Balamb Garden has a sorceress."

"What?!" Melchiah's eyes widened in surprise. "That's impossible. Edea was destroyed a year ago."

The General nodded. "Indeed she was," he said. "But there were two."

"Two? Two sorceresses? How?"

"That's irrelevant," The General said. "All you need to know is that your objective is to capture this sorceress and escape with her."

"Are you sure that I can kidnap a sorceress, General? I mean, that's what you're asking me to do, right?"

"Correct."

"I don't know, General. I don't think I've trained my magic defense high enough yet. My assigned GF and I don't get along very well."

"I wouldn't worry about that, Captain. Although I DO suggest that you bring your GF along for the sake of offense."

"Why not?" Melchiah asked.

"She's not that kind of sorceress." Caraway, pushed the button on the desk and another slide appeared. It was a picture of the sorceress. She stood about 5'5", wearing a black and blue short and strapped shirt with a light blue overset that extended down to her calves, contrasting well with her soft, white skin. Long, raven colored hair fell around her delicately sculpted face as she looked skyward, the sun raining white ribbons against her. In the background, there was a dog with long hair was visible. Maybe a German Shepard cross.

Melchiah stared at the picture. "You're telling me that she is the sorceress?"

"You're on a roll, Captain," replied the General, shutting the projection off and sending the screen up. "Intelligence tells me that she, quote: 'Is probably the sweetest human being to walk the earth.' She shouldn't be too much trouble to lure."

" 'Sweetest human being to walk the Earth,' huh? She looks like it."

"All the more reason to get in there and get out quickly," said Caraway. "I don't want you to be in there long enough to get found out. Understand?"

"Yes." replied Melchiah.

"Good," The General said. "Furthermore, should you fail this mission, or your identity is compromised, the Galbadian government will disavow any knowledge of your existence

and any of your records with us and the census ministry will be destroyed. In addition, you will never be allowed within the borders of Galbadia and her territories for as long as you may live. If you violate this ordinance after having failed the mission, you will be executed…" He then allowed a few moments for that information to sink in. "Do you understand this, Captain?"

'I guess this is the price of pardon and glory,' Melchiah thought sighing inwardly, 'I'd better not screw this up.'

"Yes."

"Very well," the General said. "You are to be awake at 0600 hours tomorrow. Be at the quartermaster and receive preparations at 0700 hours. Departure for the Galbadia East train station will be at 0730."

"Alright."

"Well," sighed the General, standing up. "This meeting is over. Dismissed."

Melchiah got up and walked for the elevator, the rays of the newly risen morning sun outlining the mountains on his back.

"Captain," the General called. Melchiah turned around.

"Good luck." Melchiah nodded and turned around, the stainless steel doors sliding closed behind him.

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After watching the doors close, these words escaped the General's lips: "Please bring her home safe," he said. "Bring my Rinoa back to me."

To be continued…