Interlude
I'm standing outside the door to her room. I don't know what pulled me here, but it seems like I can't leave without saying goodbye. My friends are my family. My students are my students. I stand outside her door, and I realize Tia has blurred the line.
I knock on the door and it hums, sliding open in front of me. She looks surprised to see me, but her eyes are a little bloodshot. She's over-studying.
"Instruc—" she starts, but I cut her off. We've had this talk in the past.
"Quistis," I say. "Just Quistis."
"Quistis," she agrees. She bobs her head as she says it. It looks like she's bowing to me. There was a time when I was this deferential.
"May I?" I ask, pointing into her room. She blinks, once, shocked, but recovers her composure.
"Sure. I mean... Please, come in."
She steps aside to let me through and I enter her dorm room. It's small. The here rooms are larger than the rooms at Balamb Garden, and they're still small. I almost stagger when I see the second bed. I'd forgotten what it was to be a cadet: sharing a room the size of a prison cell with a person you spend all day trying to out-perform.
The thing that hits me is the fact that the other side of the room – the side belonging to Tia's roommate – is empty. No sheets on the bed. Nothing on the desk.
"My roommate..." she starts.
"Moved out because you studied too much," I finish. I know the drill.
"Yeah. Can I offer you a seat?" she asks.
I nod, pulling out the chair from the empty desk. It's a dorm chair, and I can tell. At this point in my life, I've been in all four Gardens. The chairs feel the same. They make you sit up just straight enough that you can't feel comfortable, but not enough to promote good posture. SeeD is the second most powerful military force on the planet, even after the fall of Balamb Garden,. Galbadia beats us by sheer weight of numbers. Esthar is catching up fast, but still can't compete. So, we're the second most powerful military force on the planet. We're a mercenary organization with earning power to rival most corporations. We own corporations as fronts and revenue generators. Why do we subject our best and brightest to furniture that's less comfortable than a bed of nails?
Cid's admonishment rings in my ears. "Things are done the way things are done," he'd always say. Without even trying, I can name a dozen instances where he explained away some point of procedure with that little gem.
"I saw the Department Request forms the cadets filled out. You opted for Intelligence."
She nods. She thinks I'm mad at her. I'm the head of the Science, Support, Technology, and Magic Department. She thinks I expected her to follow my lead.
"It's a good choice. Selphie's the best department head we have. She's already decided to recruit you."
She brightens. "Really?"
"Yes. You're a natural. You'll fit in well."
She's exuberant. I seem to have made her day. This makes the rest of the conversation more difficult. I decide to stall a little longer.
"Why Intelligence?"
Her eyes flicker to the ground for the span of a heartbeat. Her head tilts slightly. She's good. Her nostrils don't flare. Her breathing remains steady. The blush doesn't even creep up her cheeks.
She's good. She'll fit in very well with the Intelligence Department. I'm better. That glance gave it away. I know what she's covering. I know that pain.
"You've already read my file. My life before Garden." A less gifted student would deadpan this. Or say it too emphatically. She does neither. It's just another noncommittal statement.
She's very good. I'm still better.
"I haven't." It's not a lie. Most of the kids at Garden come from nightmarish backgrounds. I should know. I'm a prime example. "What you did before Garden is only as relevant as you make it."
I don't talk about this with very many people. I never even discussed it with Matron, even after the Ultimecia thing. She'd feel terrible if she knew. Xu knows. And Seifer. Scarlet probably knows too. In Tia's case, I'll break my own rule. I know what it is to be ashamed of your past. She needs to know that I know.
"When I was very young, I was in an orphanage. From that orphanage, I was adopted by a couple from Deling City. I was their last stab at reconciliation. It didn't work. I was their pawn. When they weren't attacking me, they used me to attack each other. Neither one liked the fact that I could see through them. On my tenth birthday I walked out, taking with me nothing but the clothes on my back. I enrolled at Garden that day."
I've hit home. She's looking at me through wounded eyes. She doesn't want to tell me, but she will.
"I grew up on the streets of Deling City," she says. Her eyes fade out of focus and I watch her remember. "No family. No orphanage. Only three rules: don't starve, don't freeze, don't get caught."
"Once in a while, when I was picking food out of an alley trash-can, I'd go so far as to look out onto the main streets of the city. And every single time I looked, I'd see a procession of long black limousines. Cars more expensive and luxurious than I ever dreamed. All in a line, stretching as far as the eye could see in either direction."
Her lip has curled. She's discarded socially-acceptable self-pity and is moving on to what truly motivates her: unbridled rage and uncontrolled fear. When she had no control over her environment, she established control by being the best. My protégé indeed.
"Vinzer Deling." She infuses the words with a truly impressive amount of venom. "If he had sold just one of those cars, I wouldn't have to starve. No more fighting for scraps. No more digging through trashcans. But that was never part of the agenda. Buy more, spend more, shove the undesirables where the decent folk won't have to see them.
"Those of us who lived on the street developed little... quirks. Places to hide when the wind got too fierce. Someone we knew wouldn't turn us in to Deling's thugs. My place was the Great Library, and my person one of the librarians.
"She felt sorry for me, so she let me hide out in the library when the weather turned ugly. After a while, I started going there on the nice days, too. She taught me to read. And I read everything. Every book they had, every magazine. Back issues of newspapers. Genealogical records. Court documents. Laws. Trashy romance novels. I didn't care."
It took her away from the agony of her life. I don't need to explain this to her. We both understand. It taught her how to survive. The knowledge gave her power. We both understand that, too.
"Her daughter had grown up, so I got her hand-me-downs. They were the first possessions I didn't have to steal. One night, I was flying high. I felt so pretty in my new clothes that I decided to walk down one of the main streets. I wanted to see the parade."
A tingle moves up my body. I can't tell if I'm thrilled or terrified. The machinations of fate never fail to amaze. Scarlet would approve.
She's trembling now. I know what's coming next – I was there. Through her eyes, I experience it anew. She's just shown me a whole new way in which to examine one of the seminal evenings of my life.
"That night, the Sorceress killed Vinzer Deling. The official line was that she'd put everyone under her spell, and that's why the crowd was cheering – we were hypnotized."
Her voice drops into a low whisper and I find I am leaning in to catch her words. She's quite the storyteller. Selphie doesn't know what a prize she's claiming. For an instant, I try to concoct some excuse to poach her for the sake of my own department, but she resumes her story and the moment is gone.
"But I was in the crowd that night. I know. We cheered because he deserved it."
Her eyes widen, telling me that the best part of the story is yet to come.
"And then, he appeared. Commander Leonhart. He sliced through that crowd like the people were made of paper. Some of them just... instinctively ran from him, and the rest he moved aside. It was... awesome. I wanted that power for myself."
I admire her choice of words. "Awesome." She doesn't cheapen it by using the slang definition. She means "something that inspires awe." I watched Squall that night – as I did on so many others. Few words better approximate that moment.
"The next day, I asked my librarian about what had happened. She told me about the Gardens and SeeD. I knew a little about them from my reading, but she let me know I would be eligible for enrollment as a disadvantaged youth. She offered to drive me to Galbadia Garden, but I refused. I'd had enough of Galbadia. The Garden was just an extension of Vinzer Deling.
"I'd spent enough nights in the cold, so Trabia wasn't an option. I sold what little I owned to pay for a train ticket to Balamb. She loaned me the rest of the money, and I promised to repay her with my first paycheck."
The clock in my head tells me time is running short. I need to refocus the conversation. Wrap up this line of discussion so I can say what I have to say.
"How do you feel about the new Galbadian government?"
A fairly safe question. Somewhat detached from her personal experience. A good way to defuse her anger.
She scoffs in response. "The names have changed. Everything else is the same."
I nod. Given my personal experiences with the government of the Galbadian Republic, I would be hard pressed to disagree.
She sensed the intent behind the question. She handles conversation like an expert. She knows when to lead and when to follow.
"To answer your question, I requested to join Intelligence because, for years, that's what I did. I watched. I listened. I saw. I understood. But when you're a homeless child on the streets of Deling City, it doesn't matter what you've seen. Intelligence will change all that. Instructor Tilmitt once said that information is the currency of the Intelligence Department. I plan to be rich."
I nod. It's as good a reason as any. We all had our foibles when it came to choosing departments. I opted for SSTM because it offered me an opportunity to pursue my more esoteric interests. Seifer opted for Security because it was the most demanding and least-appreciated department. Zell opted for Combat because he wanted to follow in his grandfather's footsteps.
I glance up at Tia. She knows I didn't come to talk about her choice of departments. She's waiting for me to explain my presence. I don't blame her.
"I'm going away," I tell her. "On a mission. We all are. The First Team." I pause, not wanting to add the necessary qualification. "We might not be coming back."
"Is—? I mean, are—?" She doesn't want to say it.
"We're going back to Balamb Garden. We're going to kill them or they're going to kill us. That's pretty much it."
"Is this confidential? Do I need to observe the security protocols?"
I don't need to consult the other members of the First Team. None of us care anymore. We just want to end it.
"No. It doesn't matter now."
I've gotten used to hero-worship. And the Trepies with their fawning adoration. But she's looking at me with something akin to... reverence. In another context, I might appreciate it. Tonight, though... I'd better cut to the chase.
It's the central paradox of teaching that you're always working to make yourself obsolete. So, one final lesson before the great Instructor fades into the sunset.
"Tia, you have a brilliant future ahead of you. I have no doubt that, one day, you will surpass everything I have accomplished."
"I could never—!" she objects. "I mean, how could anyone...?"
I laugh a little. "It will happen, Tia. Sooner or later, someone will outdo whatever I have accomplished. I want it to be – I expect it will be – you. I don't want to be the next Edmund Roni."
She's perplexed. "Who's Edmund Roni?"
"When I was a cadet, he was the greatest SeeD ever. He joined SeeD at the tender young age of 16 – the youngest to date. First cadet to test directly into the SD-10 pay grade. Made instructor by 18 – again, the youngest to date. First SeeD ever to hold the SD-A pay grade."
"What happened to him?"
"I did. SeeD at 15, tested into the SD-13 pay grade, instructor by 17. I was the second SeeD to hold the SD-A grade. Now, everyone on the First Team holds that rank plus additional bonuses."
"But where is he? Where did he go?"
"I shattered his records and he was never the same. Former headmaster Kramer gave him a 'long term deep-cover assignment.' He's in semi-official retirement now. The only SeeD drawing a pension. Selphie heard that he's a beekeeper in Winhill."
She's looking at me like I'm going to reveal life's deepest mysteries to her.
What do I say? I've killed a lot of people. So many I stopped counting. And I never felt guilty about it. Guilt is a luxury I can rarely afford. Certainly not tonight. What do I tell her? I've only regretted killing one man. And he's still alive.
I stand and head for the door. As I pass by, I place my hand on her shoulder.
"I expect great things, Tia. You won't disappoint me. Couldn't if you tried."
It's weak, I know. I'm tapped out.
"Come back safe," she says.
"I'll try."
It's all I can think of.
Sorry, kid. Lecture over. Class dismissed.
* *
Earlier
"I'm sending the picture now," Quistis said, hitting the buttons needed to transfer it to Xu at Garden ground control. A moment passed, and she heard Xu's sharp intake of breath.
"Son of a bitch," she murmured.
"I know," Quistis scowled. "That was my reaction."
"What do you want to do about it?" Xu asked.
"Scramble the First Team and have them waiting in the hangar. Have a crew standing by to resupply the Ragnarok. I have a feeling we'll be going right back up again."
"Do you want me to take this to him?"
"No," Quistis answered. "I'll do it. His first instinct will be to run off by himself and deal with this, especially since Seifer's proven that it's possible. We can't afford that. We get exactly one chance at this. Seifer already screwed up our chances of going in through the Training Center, so stealth isn't an option."
"About that," Xu ventured. "Since Seifer and Fujin made their reports, I've been thinking about this. How this should go down. Reviewing the data from the fall and looking at the security feeds. I think I have a plan."
"Let's hear it."
"How do you feel about dividing our forces?"