AN: A note for those who missed the one in my bio - I realised after posting Chapter Five (yes, it took me forever to notice), that Fanfiction net is/was stripping my nice formatting *glares* Since I'm not sure whether changing chapter content generates an email alert, I'm erring on the side of caution (and laziness) and not updating all my previously posted stuff >

Storm Angel: Thank you very much for your review, I can sympathise with school and homework, alas whilst my days of enforced homework are over, my memories of it are not... *shudders* And as I most definitely do not want a reviewer to die (you're a rare and possibly endangered species believe it or not), here is your begged-for update ;)

Book Three of the Sorcerer Arc ~ Battle Lines ~ Chapter Six ~ Chaos Theory

Squall was in another quiet mood - or back in the earlier one. In a way that was fine, because, as he'd said, there was nothing to do but wait for various situations to become clearer. Rinoa couldn't be dealt with until Edea got an answer from Odine - and possibly not even then, a chilling thought. Ellone couldn't be 'rescued' until they knew where she was - and if she needed rescuing at all. And Galbadia couldn't even be assessed until they had a reliable report on the situation.

Squall had jumped to the conclusion - or maybe he hadn't, Seifer wasn't sure - that Kylari had made Tieren Deling, Vinzer Deling's son, her puppet President, as well as managing to silence all of Garden's contacts at the same time. Really there was too much detail there for mere conclusion jumping, unless Squall had expected something like that to happen. It was still possible, although - depressingly - less likely, that there was simply a communications problem and messages weren't getting through.

In another way, however, Squall's quiet mood was a bad thing. A very bad thing, Seifer thought, eyeing the report he'd just been given. The Shumi, ever a good indicator of when things were seriously fucked, were closing their doors. Whether they ever intended to open them again, they hadn't said.

Seifer wasn't sure whether his near heart-attack was caused by the sudden beep of the terminal, or by Selphie's ghost yelling exuberantly in his ear, but he was betting on the latter.

"What did you do?" He asked, once his pulse steadied. "And what am ~I~ going to have to do to fix it?" He added, with a sense of foreboding. Seifer could dimly make out the petite brunette pouting at him. She had been right, he ~was~ starting to see them - and occasionally others he knew were dead - and more clearly as time passed.

Selphie sniffed. She vanished from sight then, although Seifer was sure he could feel her presence loitering nearby. Probably waiting to read the message over his shoulder, even though it had sounded like she already knew its contents. Maybe she did. Irvine's comments on the 'unique perspective' the dead had, hadn't been specific enough to say whether they knew what was going to happen as well as what had.

With a sigh, he opened the message, frowning as the header displayed the point of origin as Trabia. Who in Trabia would be sending messages to Garden? And where from? The Garden had been destroyed, so there were no working terminals there, and surely the nomadic tribes wouldn't carry mobile terminals around with them?

'To Commander of SeeD.' He read. Ignoring the fact that it was supposed to be for Squall's attention only, he scanned the rest of the message...

***

"As I say. Exactly as I say."

"But..." The young Trabian at the terminal keyboard protested.

"No 'But'. As I say. No more, no less." The Elder frowned, the implicit warning clear. Whilst he might be unable to read, he ~was~ able to count the groups of letters that made up the words, and he would know if more words had been added than he had said. The younger man gave up, and hoped like hell that someone at Garden would get it before the Commander, and add some much needed grammar.

"Alright. Exactly as you say." A brief glare as the Elder pondered whether he was being mocked, and then a sharp nod.

"New sorceress threatens all. Chocobo forces ride at your side. All Trabian forces fight together protect homeland." The Trabian typing in the Elder's words paused, and went back over the last sentence, inserting a comma, and hoping the Elder wouldn't notice. "What you doing?" The Elder demanded, having noticed the addition taking place.

"I put a comma in, so that whoever reads this doesn't asphyxiate." Or die from a brain implosion caused by bad grammar, he thought, but had the sense not to say aloud. The Elder shook his head.

"This why I not read. Dangerous. Asphyxiate " The younger Trabian rolled his eyes, unseen by the Elder. He'd forgotten during his few years of schooling at Trabia Garden, just how ~literal~ the older, and more traditional, Trabians were.

***

Seifer sat back with a low whistle, having managed to avoid a headache from the grammar - or lack of - by treating the message like a translated SeeD code transmission. Excess words trimmed, leaving meaning - and all that. Basically, the Trabian nomadic tribes had called a conclave, and from that they'd decided to throw in their lot with SeeD. But only as far as their homeland was concerned. That was only to be expected though. Black Chocobos could go almost everywhere, but they were far more suited to winter conditions than desert, and that was all Esthar consisted of.

"So just what has this got to do with you?" He asked the empty office, convinced - now he'd seen the message - that Selphie had been crowing over its contents when she'd nearly given him a heart attack.

She sniffed haughtily. Seifer quirked an eyebrow. He highly doubted that she wouldn't tell him, but she might force him to be a bit more...apologetic. He winced.

"You're a cruel person Selph. I...apologise." She giggled.

"Yes it bloody well was. Now explain dammit." He growled back at her.

Seifer blinked.

"But...surely that system is ~made~ for corrupting?" He frowned, easily envisioning someone surreptitiously placing a handful of Gysahl Greens where the decision they supported was represented. Selphie giggled again.

She seemed delighted with his picking up on the possibility. Another giggle. Seifer groaned.

"Don't tell me you asked him to, uh, subvert their decision."

She grinned happily. Seifer wasn't sure he wanted to know how that had been achieved, especially since, if he concentrated hard, he could almost make out a pale, Chicobo-like ghost hovering behind Selphie.

"Well, thank you for that...I think. More useful would be any insights on how to get Squall back in touch with the world." For a moment it looked like Selphie was considering saying something. Then she shook her head sadly.

Her vague gesture seemed to indicate the ghost of the Chicobo. He nodded, sighing as she disappeared from sight again. He hadn't really expected any help with Squall. It was almost cheating, somehow, asking the dead to reveal things that, in the normal course of life, you'd have to stumble blindly through. Of course, none of that solved his problem. He now had two...

The terminal beeped again.

And again...

***

Four messages. Seifer glared at his terminal, daring it to beep again. It remained blessedly silent. Four messages - another glare for the, still, silent terminal - and Squall in a quiet mood. This was not good. Not good at all.

Fortunately all four of the messages could be neatly summed up in one or two sentences.

There was, finally, news on the Galbadian front. Tieren Deling ~had~ taken over the Presidency after Caraway was shot by an 'unknown and lone' gunman. He'd also, nigh on immediately, declared war on Timber and Dollet.

The Shumi were sealing their doors, with no indication of when, if ever, they would re-open them.

The Trabian nomadic tribes had pledged the support of their black Chocobo riders to SeeD's cause - but in Trabia only.

Oh, and Dr Kadowaki thought it might be a good idea to reassure Garden that they weren't just sitting back and doing nothing.

The blond knight groaned and hit his head on the desk a couple of times. However he tried to word it, the doctor's comment still sounded too much like a reprimand. Squall tolerated her, and her concerns - Quistis had recounted how the doctor had insisted on telling the SeeDs to protect the junior classmen, a completely unnecessary command - but the brunette had his limits. But he had no choice but to pass the messages - or their abbreviated content - on.

Taking a deep breath, Seifer stood, snatched up the piece of paper where he'd scribbled down, more legibly than usual, the content of the four messages, and went to face the music.

***

Squall was aware of his office door opening quietly and Seifer entering, a single sheet of paper clenched in his hand. He was aware of the slightly shorter strides towards his desk that his knight took. Aware that they were caused by the wariness he could sense from the blond. He was even aware that it was his own lack of response that was inspiring that wariness. But he couldn't find the will to do anything about it. He was dead, inside, just waiting for the outside shell that was left to realise and give in.

He didn't know when he'd died. Whether it was during the fight against Ultemecia, when he'd seen, through time compression, all the things that might have been. That had, and ~were~, the reality in a millions of other worlds. For every possibility, every combination of possibilities, a world. A million paradises and a million hells, and a million worlds in between the two. And yet, Ultemecia had touched every world - a key event. Her motives varied, good intentions leading to time compression as surely as bad. Another key event, sending ripples of distorted time through each world when she was defeated, everywhere, by whatever means. A third key event, her defeat. Key events were supposed to be rare, and yet three had appeared, so close together. And now Kylari, another key event? Were all the possible worlds, all the possible realities, converging?

Or maybe he'd died before that. When he'd first begun to live a lie. When he'd first realised that he was a sorcerer, first seen, through his ancestor's memories, how they had been persecuted to the verge of extinction. When he'd realised that he was the last, and that some higher power had chosen him to be their puppet, dancing to their macabre tune. That Death and Despair were his constant companions, and the only person who seemed to be immune he could not confide in.

"...that you should, uh, reassure everyone that we're not sitting back and doing nothing..." Seifer's voice finally penetrated the shroud of nothing around Squall's mind. He looked up sharply, startling the blond.

"What did you say?" Seifer swallowed. Either he took the blame and, most likely, prevented Squall from firing Dr Kadowaki - an action he'd probably regret later - or, he let the good doctor reap what she'd sown. He decided he'd probably regret either decision, but at least if he got injured, Dr Kadowaki would still be around to at least ~try~ and sew him up again.

"Well, surely we're going to do something about Caraway's assassination? I mean, we've sent Edea off to Odine to see whether we can remove Rinoa without causing something catastrophic to happen, obviously we can't tell people that. But surely there's something you can tell everyone so that they know we're just waiting for the moment to strike?" Squall refused to meet his eyes. "We ~are~ just waiting for the moment to strike, aren't we?" A sinking feeling began to overwhelm the blond.

"You want me to lie to them all. You want me to let them think there's hope - when there isn't." Seifer shook his head, denying the accusation, and the belief that there was no hope.

"No. I want you to be more open. At least tell ~me~ what you're planning..." He was cut off by Squall's quiet laughter. There was no humour in the sound, just the promise that the sinking feeling he was experiencing was only the beginning.

"What I'm planning? ~Nothing~ is what I'm planning." Squall said, his voice as dead as his expression. "Caraway was assassinated, Tieren took over. There's no evidence, and no reason for Garden to interfere in Galbadian political affairs." Seifer gaped, his thoughts in turmoil. He'd been certain that Squall would immediately send a sniper team to Galbadia, or send a representative to get an explanation for the hostilities towards Timber and Dollet, or do ~something~. But he was doing nothing. Just sitting back and watching as Galbadia, spurred on by Kylari no doubt, blatantly turned their backs on the sorceress threat and went to war. Not only that, Seifer realised, but he was doing nothing to avenge Laguna's death. He was doing...nothing.

"Enough!" Squall's bellow was a kaleidoscope of emotions. Anger, for the most part, but impatience and hurt betrayal were in there too. There were even traces of sorrow and resignation. "We're doing ~nothing~, because there's nothing ~to do~. Unless Timber or Dollet request SeeD aid, there's no reason for us to interfere. There's not even any evidence that Tieren's actions were due to Kylari." Seifer gaped.

"There was no evidence that Edea was going to be anything other than an ambassador - but you all still tried to kill her!" He snapped back, his own ire starting to rise. Squall glared at him, gold starting to show in the brunette's ice-blue eyes. Power hummed in the room, a thunderstorm waiting to break.

"I wasn't in command then." There was an almighty crash as another chair fell victim to a gunblade - this time Hyperion. His weapon still bared, Seifer pointed his finger accusingly at Squall.

"You said you'd keep fighting Leonhart, even though you're convinced we'll lose, so tell me. Tell me what the fuck you're planning, because I ~know~ you're planning ~something~." But Seifer already knew he'd lost. Squall's emotions had vanished from his senses, the brunette deliberately blocking them, and the only expression on his face was of chill calm. His eyes, still showing flecks of gold, only mirrored the fact that his emotions were strong, not what those emotions were.

"We're at war, Almasy. You can be my lover, my knight or just another annoyance I have to deal with on a regular basis. The choice is yours." Seifer glared, eyes narrowed.

"I'll watch your back, because I owe you." Seifer growled, sheathing Hyperion. "But whether I'm your knight...that's ~your~ decision."

AN: ooer...remind me ~not~ to cross a pissed-off Squall...wait, ~I~ already knew that *frowns*
Seifer: Yes, I know that too, but arguing with the author ranks above it, sooo... *shrugs in resignation*
Zell: *sniggers* more balls than brains - which isn't saying much
Seifer: I never noticed before Dincht, but you really look like one of those chairs in Squall's office...
Zell: O.O;;