A Word From The Author: 1/3/05: Alright, I foresee some delay in getting this chapter posted because my computer has been encrypted with a new password so I can only type at school for half an hour during my free period, so all apologies to the readers. Plus I've got a bit of writer's block again…plus for some inexplicable reason I find it hard to get any inspiration while in school…anyway, I'll try for your sakes okay?

Chapter Twenty-One: The Mardon Affair

Later on Quistis and Arne met Xu in the auditorium with their respective partners. Quistis' squad consisted of herself, Elenor Rynee, and Haisha Wyerheir, back on her feet and looking very determined. As for Arne, he had recruited his best friend Keire Wulcan and Mel Flintein. Xu gave them a pleased smile and all of them quickly settled down to business. They sat in a rough semicircle around Xu, and began their brainstorming progress. Quistis had already formed the potential beginnings of a plan in her head, which could solve the problem of how they were to sneak into Esthar in the first place.

"Skeiz will be careful, of course," Quistis said confidently, "but we'll be better. Besides, it will be a splendid opportunity; huge crowds, the guards watching out for the resistance groups…" What she was referring to was the news on the Galbadian network which their team had pilfered from a satellite after hacking into it—the inauguration ceremony the following night in which Esthar was officially going to become part of Galbadia. Security would be high, of course—this was the last chance the rebels would have to stop the process, and Skeiz knew it, but Quistis was sure that the man, in his arrogance and overweening egoism, would never imagine that the beaten SeeDs would return to the enemy camp right under his nose and attempt to assassinate him. Besides, what other choice did they have?

"Okay, you can talk to Jafael about it and see if he can spare any of his pilots," Xu replied after Qusitis had had her say. "Arne, what about you?"

"Well," the young captain said, looking a trite sheepish. "I'm sorry, guys, but we aren't going to get away so clean like in Quistis' idea. In fact…yeah, it stinks a lot, but I'm sure you toughened SeeDs can handle it."

He voiced his thoughts, and Keire's eager expression quickly gave way to incredulity. "You want us to what!" he exclaimed, outraged. "Two miles of effluent tube? You…you…" He fumbled for words, but failed.

"Give me a break," Arne said defensively. "Next time you can exercise your brain and I'll do the dirty work. Being a leader isn't easy."

Mel smirked. "What did you expect? A five-star hotel underneath the Galbadian plains? Dream on." She became serious. "So, when are we leaving, Headmistress? And how?"

"I think it would be best if both integrations were to be done simultaneously. A clean attack always works," Xu answered. "Team A, that means you, Quistis, will travel part of the way to Esthar tomorrow morning, I suggest you use your stolen Mirrormist. Then you can put your plan in action. As for you—" Xu grinned at the unfortunate Team B, "I'll ask Selphie to fly you to Fisherman's Horizon in the Ragnorak. I know she'll want to participate, even if it's just a little."

"Selphie? She'll crash us into the middle of the ocean!" Arne cried out with a look of abject horror, having experienced Selphie's excess enthusiasm in the cockpit multiple times.

"She may be reckless, but she's a good pilot," Xu said with an evil smile. "Arne and Quistis—your faces are too well known, so you'll have to undergo a night of complete metamorphosis." She tapped her fingers on her comm. in a rapid tattoo and instantly the doors opened to admit an army of professional makeup artists. They swarmed on the two hapless SeeDs and whipped out creams, dyes, pads etc. Xu ushered the rest out the exit and admonished them to do whatever they needed to do to get themselves ready. Saluting, they went on their separate ways.

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(…a dream…)

It is green; the living green of spring, the green of a young woman's soulful emerald eyes, the green of insane eyes filled with darkness and Mako. The lake glimmers with crystal clarity. It is smooth as a mirror, hiding its sleeping secret; just as he had left it a year ago…

It seems so far away already.

The lake ripples.

What is that? Angels' voices, rising in a crescendo, mingled with soft, sad notes like drops of rain. Soft and cool and gentle, like her hands, laid across her still chest. But she is dead. He has failed, even in victory.

Help me…he thinks he hears her voice pleading. Come to me.

Anything for you, he replies. He needed to be forgiven…

I never blamed you, she whispers. He sees her now. Her back to him, brown hair curling damply around her neck. Her pink dress is sodden and clings to her slim figure.

He wants to run forward and hold her, but something stops him. Maybe it is because she never once turns around to look him in the eye. At last she sighs, and says, Do not dwell on the past. Here she sounds sad, and emphatic, as though imparting a deeper meaning than her words suggested. He wants to ask, but her voice cuts, like a blade wrapped in silk, across his. Heed well. Come here, for you are needed again. Her voice drops. The Planet needs you. I…need you.

As she speaks her form begins to fade away into the green mist, and the pain stabs him as hard as though it were physical. Wait, he calls, running to her. She makes a warding gesture, but he ignores it. His hands go right though her. He falls to his knees, palms out pleadingly, as she vanishes right before his eyes.

The last thing he hears is a faint whisper so soft he barely hears it, floating like a feather though the air:

I'm so sorry, Cloud…

…………………………………………………………………………………………...

(Back in the real world, Balamb Garden)

Arne scowled as he examined his new reflection in the mirror. "I don't think blond agrees with me."

Quistis glared, tugging on a lock of her newly curled hair, thankfully still retaining its original color, but now in long ringlets that made her look totally different. As in…weird, though she had been assured that it was because she was till unused to her new look. Plus cheek pads that altered the lines of her face and brown contacts. "Well what am I, then?"

Arne winced. "Not that there's anything really wrong abut being blonde, of course…"

As for Arne, he sported what was actually a quite dashing look, his fair hair sweeping up in a widow's peak and sweeping in a downward arc across his eyes and down the nape of his neck. Some kind of rubber stuff had been added to his nose, making it resemble the beak of a bird of prey, and his eyes were green with gold tint. He peered at his reflection, almost bumping his nose into the mirror, all the while maintaining his vaguely disgusted expression. "I'll be glad when the mission is over and I can go back to being my plain old self."

"Admit it, Arne, you actually like it," Quistis drawled, aiming a playful poke at the younger man's ribs, which he easily dodged, pouting at her. "WhatEVER," he groused, sighing as Mel bounced in, her hands full of cloth. "Let's go see what they dug up for us. Good taste is so hard to come by nowadays…"

"Hi, guys," Mel said, setting down her stash on a chair while the other three walked in. "Okay, since Esthar is all high-tech and snazzy, I guess Team A will have to dress up to blend in better, so…"She reached arm-deep into the pile and came up with a glittery, extremely sheer black gown. "How about this, Quisty?"

The blond instructor recoiled in horror. "I am NOT wearing that! It makes me look like a …hooker!"

"Yes!" Keire said eagerly, closing his eyes in bliss.

"Pervert," Haisha chortled and elbowed her colleague hard in his side.

Mel burst out laughing. "I was just kidding. That used to belong to my aunt Eve, and she used to…" She noticed the others staring at her. "Uh…digression over. Anyway, I figured Quisty would fit right in with…" She rummaged around again and came up with a sensible, no-nonsense, dark beige blouse and a navy blue skirt that ended at the knee. Quistis sighed in relief, and Keire joined Mel in poking through the loot to look for something that would fit Elenor and Haisha. The members of Team B were all dressed casually in old clothes, since they wouldn't remain clean for long.

"I still can't believe you, of all people, would have made us crawl through a stinky old pipe," Keire was heard to mutter under his breath, looking at Arne with an expression that suggested that it would be a VERY long time before he forgave him.

"Okay, done?" Quistis asked an hour later, when the sky was starting to turn a dark blue, illuminated only by a wan sickle moon. The levity had grown more and more strained with the passing of time and even Mel's good humor had been quenched by the seriousness of the situation. The SeeDs gave an abrupt nod in the affirmative and moved out of the auditorium.

At the landing pad, they were touched to find friends and colleagues lined up, smiling encouragingly, some even expressing disappointment that they could not come along to 'fix 'em good.' Quistis accepted quite a lot of requests to give Edigier a good kick in the ass and other areas that cannot be mentioned because of the PG-13 rating of this story. Jafael and Selphie, donned in their black flight suits, grinned and waved to their fellow pilots. Quistis, as she approached, thought that the excitement had done Selphie a lot of good; her dancing green eyes once again held the impish glimmer Quistis knew so well, and her pale cheeks had regained her healthy pink glow. Unlike Jafael she had eschewed the helmet and her crisp brown curls bounced on her slender shoulders as she blew kisses at all her friends. Irvine, standing beside her, tried his best not to look envious or sad for her sake, but it was in his eyes as he leaned over to kiss his wife and put an arm possessively around her.

"There's no need to be a jealous old hubby," Selphie chided Irvine playfully, though she looked extremely flattered. Lisa groaned and rolled her eyes, but despite herself she was glad for what seemed to be the last shred of normalcy in her torn world. Just a fortnight ago she and her brother had teased their parents together…tears glimmered in her green eyes, so like her mother's, and she tried to hide them. Irvine put his free arm around her too, and for a precious moment they were bonded as a family, more than they had ever been in Lisa's whole life. The hectic life of politics, of important meetings and top secret documents, were forgotten, and Lisa loved her parents as she never had before. Somehow, in this war, through fire and smoke, they had found each other again, and her only regret was that Ivan was not here to share this moment with them.

But he was coming home. Soon. The SeeDs were going on a mission to bring him home again. Lisa wished she could go…

Selphie kissed the both of them goodbye. "It'll be a short trip, I'll be coming back very soon, honey," she said cheerily, acting as though she was only going to the market; an ordinary journey, an ordinary day. It touched Lisa, and she smiled. For her mother's sake, she'd be strong. She stood back, and Selphie skipped into the gleaming red Ragnorak, which was actually Xu's own personal craft. She had chosen to donate it to the cause, claiming that she 'never did much flying anyway nowadays'. Selphie paused for a second to run her fingers appreciatively over the sleek red hull before disappearing inside.

Jafael shook a few more hands before strapping the helmet securely over his head. He gave Quistis a thumbs-up, and she, Elenor and Haisha boarded the Mirrormist which she had stolen from Esthar. Quistis figured, rightly so, that it might cause a bit of confusion, enough to create a diversion to drop off the three intruders. She, Haisha and Elenor waved one final time before the ramp hissed shut.

"Be safe," Xu yelled, her eyes looking suspiciously moist. Arne gave her a final hug, then grabbed each of his teammates by the arm and steered them into the Ragnorak. The cheers and shouted encouragement of the gathered SeeDs and cadets were drowned out as the engines of the fighters roared simultaneously, spewing smoke and fire. They rose, one red and one black, and then shot off, leaving a trail of orange and gray in the night sky.

The crowd slowly began to disperse, their spirits flagging after the enthusiastic farewell that might well be the last they might ever see of their brave heroes. Irvine, Xu, Zell, Seifer, and Rinoa stood together, staring at the tiny specks as they wove their ways towards the stars, the survivors of another war more than two decades ago. Xu spoke the words that lingered in all of their hearts. "Our time is over. We've got to leave these responsibilities to the next generation…but it's hard, isn't it."

Rinoa's eyes glimmered and she cast her gaze down. It would be the hardest for her…if Arne never returned, she would be the last of the Leonhearts. Utterly alone. No further words were spoken, and the small group huddled together against a greater darkness, alone, forlorn, but finding strength in each other's company, long after the smoke trails of the fighter planes were faded to transparency.

Until the teams came back, it would be a waiting game.

…………………………………………………………………………………………...

The Mirrormist punched its way through the sparse clouds that hung like a death shroud over the dim forms of the Cetra peninsula far below. The Garden gleamed like a white beacon amid the rocky shores and dark waters. Quistis gazed at it for a moment before it was swallowed up by the ragged clouds, and wondering if she would ever see it again, she turned away and joined her friends. Haisha was catching some R & R before the mission and was curled up tightly in one of the passenger seats, her eyes firmly shut. Quistis envied the woman her ability to relax. She could not. For once her legendary ability to stay calm in the face of the strongest adversary seemed to have abandoned her, and she found her feet tracing a meandering, continuous path over the floor restlessly, her hands clasped behind her back.

"You're driving yourself crazy, you know. Sit down," Elenor said in a matter-of-fact tone, her head propped up against the plush back of her seat.

"I know." Quistis sighed and obeyed, but barely a minute later she was unable to restrain herself. She got up and started pacing again. Elenor watched her for a second, then closed her eyes too, though her grip stayed firm on the hilt of her katana. Quistis wondered of it was because the chance to avenge Laguna's death was here at last. Every time she thought of Skeiz Mardon these days, her fury boiled over. She hated the man with a passion unrivaled since Ultimecia. The sorceress had been an evil being, yes, but somehow far off in the future, detached; but Skeiz was human, sane, and he had performed these atrocities in an act of rational thought. The fight with Ultimecia was more to save the world than anything else, for the people; the opportunity to kill Skeiz was for herself. It was personal.

Onward they sped, through a darkening haze, and as Quistis watched Gaia whir past in a blur of color she had the strange impression that she was standing still and the world was sliding away under her feet, that whatever fate in store for her was rushing forward to meet her. She shook away the odd fancy, and finally, as Fisherman's Horizon spun away, sleep overcame her and she sank into darkness, straight against the wall, like a silent sentinel.

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(Esthar, early morning)

The pale, wintry sunlight grazed the top of the clouds, illuminating them until they shone like golden fleece. It did not warm the people of Esthar; all it served was to shed light on the bleak expressions of bewilderment and subdued fear as they went about their daily business. Just a few weeks ago they had been snug, secure, sure of their place in the world, but since the death of Laguna they had been thrown out of sync. He had been the one thing that had held them together as far back as anyone could remember since the Sorceress War, binding all Estharians with his warmth and childish naïveté. Now he was gone, and they were lost, suddenly behind yet another war, allied with an old foe and enemies of old allies. Their world had been turned upside down, and it was to change again in a few hours. But they did not know this yet, and they walked with shoulders hunched and heads bent under the watchful gazes of Mardon's black-clad elite guard.

Engines roared. This was nothing new. The Estharians did not raise their heads to look. Probably yet another delegation from Galbadia, come to meet with their President again…

The sun glided on the rim of the world, and out of the sun came a black bird, its metal skin gilded with gold, the crest of Esthar standing out vivdly against the ebony. The Advigilo Custodia raised their black-helmed heads, like a dog which has scented something on the wind. One raised a 'link to his mouth.

The citizens paused. Uncertain. The Custodia waved them on with their rifles, watching with flat, cold eyes.

Smoothly, the Mirrormist banked, heading in a gentle glide towards the airport. The Custodia took the 'link from his lips, but remained vigilant. Suddenly the Mirrormist pulled up sharply and then dived steeply towards the center of the city. From a distance it seemed that the Mirrormist was dropping specks of sand that rained down upon Esthar like a fiery shower.

"Attack!"

The Custodia ran, as alarms blared throughout the city, leaving the Estharians to stand, confused, but in dawning realization that, whatever this might be, it marked the beginning of a new change for Esthar. But whether it boded good or ill, they did not know, and this worried them. They would have liked to drop whatever they were doing and swarm towards the first break in monotony in their lives for what seemed like an age, but for the stern remainder of the Custodia who ordered them back to work, keeping watch as the first of Esthar's air force was deployed, speedily heading towards the disturbance.

…………………………………………………………………………………………...

"Go!" Jafael spat. The pilot did not even pause to wipe the bead of sweat dangling dangerously from his brow as he spun the Mirrormist in another swoop that brought him dangerously close to crashing into the roof of the Palace, lasers flashing in a continuous cycle of red lines. His voice, amplified and carried to the hangar by a microphone, caused the members of Team A to tense and ready themselves.

The ground fell out from under their feet, and Quistis, Haisha and Elenor, though prepared, could not resist simultaneous gasps as their feet suddenly trod thin air. They quickly reached behind them and activated their hoversacks, strapped to their backs. There was a gush of air and their rate of descent slowed, though not markedly, but enough to keep them from breaking any limbs. SeeD equipment was never known for their gentleness.

Quistis caught Elenor's eye; she was pale but her face was carefully calm. Quistis herself was worried about Jafael; looking up, she could see the black shapes of the Esthar Mirrormists streaking across the sky. She forced herself to modulate her breathing, to calm her racing heart, but she could not resist the wave of euphoria that abruptly swept through her. This was where she belonged; in action, on the field, finally doing something. She was suddenly grinning, and the fear was gone in a flood of adrenaline.

Their feet came to a harsh, jarring stop just behind the Palace walls. The guards were gone, having left to the front where Jafael seemed to be pummeling the entrance with more lasers, from the sounds and the faint smell of ozone in the air. The women quickly divested themselves of the hoversacks and hid them in some handy bushes. Quickly, but casually, they headed around the corner and assimilated themselves into the bulk of the crowd, staring at the spectacle despite efforts of the Custodia to chase them away. Since Quistis, Haisha and Elenor were in the civilian dress of the Estharians –long, heavy robes weighted down at the hem, they blended in easily, and their makeup job had given them the pale complexion and fair hair of the Estharians. Quistis didn't like it; it made her feel itchy, but she feigned nonchalance.

Jafael…Quistis thought, her heart pounding behind her mask, her concern dispelling her earlier glee, please be alright. The Mirrormist, one against many, dodged and ducked around the bigger fleet, red lasers splashing against the clear blue transparisteel(Copyright of Star Wars) of the path. Quistis strained to make out the shape of an escape pod against the sky, and she prayed fervently as the menacing shapes of the enemy Mirrormists closed in.

She saw nothing.

Lasers fired. The friendly Mirrormist zoomed straight up, nose pointed at the sky. It looked like it would make it. Then, as it arced sharply across the top of the enemy formation, a Swallow, lurking at the back, agilely followed, jumping out of the pack of black wolves. The little guns fired, point-blank.

The Mirrormist buckled. The orange streaks of fire burned black marks against the surface, some flickering off where the shield diverted them. The other Mirromists rose, ponderous, and fired together.

Jafael's ship exploded. Beautiful, Quistis thought vaguely, as the ship blew apart in an expanding ball of fire. Crimson, black, and orange, staining the blue sky with the colors of war. It would linger for some time. Enough time to remind any who looked upward that they had been first marked. The first act of war against them.

Elenor's eyes were hard. It was never easy. No matter how many times they had experienced it. She nodded to her silent comrades. "Let's move."

…………………………………………………………………………………………...

Jafael scrambled through the bowels of the ship. It was hard to let go of the controls; the ship had been faithful to him, and he was sorry to leave her. He had set her on auto and prayed that she would avoid the deadly blasts long enough to let him escape. He patted a bulkhead, almost fondly, like a master petting his favorite dog, as he moved swiftly down.

The Mirrormist rocked, making him stumble. Shit. Jafael cursed fluently as he punched at a button. The escape pods lay just beyond, beckoning, promising safety and freedom. A recent addition, specially customized. Hadn't gotten out of Esthar yet. Gave the pilot more control of his direction. Jafael picked one at random and headed towards it.

The ship shuddered again, and there was a tearing sound, like a deep groan, as though the Mirrormist was in pain. Hold it together some more ,baby. Jafael dragged himself inside one of the bubble-shaped craft and cycled the door shut. There was a tortured scream of screeching metal, and the metal glowed dull red. Jafael hung on for dear life as a sheet of white hot fire raced towards him, like a sea of destruction, pushing him into the metal of the pod. A flying shard of twisted metal flew past and cut open his cheek. The Mirrormist was collapsing around him, and Jafael could glimpse blue sky through one of the widening cracks…his last look of life.

Jafael screamed, and the Mirrormist was rent apart in a ball of flame.

…………………………………………………………………………………………...

'The Esthar Air Force is to be complimented for their readiness and success this morning by restraining a rebel fighter ship, now identified as one stolen by Quistis Trepe,' the newscaster droned, his words carrying well through the lazy air of the hot afternoon permeating the little café. Quistis sat nursing a cup of cappuccino listening with a heavy heart and hating the bland voice and expression of the speaker. Hyne, he was talking about the death of a human being; could he be that uncaring? Was he some flunky of Mardon?

'No survivors have been located, but the President is confident that any evidence found will be linked back to Balamb, who recently went rogue after turning down a generous offer from President Mardon to join the New Alliance…'

More propaganda…it was sickening. Quistis endeavored to keep a neutral expression as she slowly sipped from her cup. Haisha was seated nearby, and she looked as though she was going through the same struggle.

The bell dinged, and Quistis glanced up to see Elenor stride through the front door, her normally rangy steps somewhat hampered by the heavy robes. She was unrecognizable with her white-blond hair set in a prim bun; Quistis had gotten too used to her usual ponytail. Seemingly randomly, she sat across her partner and called for coffee. Quistis fiddled with her curls, sharply aware of the alert gaze of the Custodia roving around the café. With the morning incident, and tonight's formal declaration, they were extra observant for any signs of suspicious activity. Under lowered lids, she studied Elenor, whose face remained blank, until she twitched an eyebrow very quickly.

Her fingers tapping a rapid tattoo on the plastic tabletop, Elenor appeared to be suddenly taken with the cooling unit installed at the corner of the ceiling. Quistis pricked her ears intently, listening to the rhythm of Elenor's fingers. Haisha got it after a few seconds, and together the two women stood up, paid for their drinks, and sauntered out. More Custodia were patrolling outside. Quistis and Haisha gave them a wide berth and continued down the road to the living units.

The apartments were plain, identical buildings arranged neatly in a row, made of some unidentifiable pale blue stone with shaded balconies. Quistis checked the numbers and when she found the one she wanted, she inserted in the keycard that Kiros had given to her before he had left Esthar. "Keep it," he had told her. "In case you ever need a hideout to crash out at if you ever feel the world is against you. And anyway…" He smiled a bit. "There's loads of private stuff in my house I can't pack up and take with me, and there's no way I'm letting the landlord get his hands on it. Keepsakes, mementos… I won't be coming back, Quistis, so you can everything. At least, keep all my things safe for me."

Remembering, Quistis smiled a little wistfully as the automatic door slid open, allowing her to cross the threshold into a sparsely furnished three-room apartment, as pristine and military as Kiros himself. A picture of Laguna, Kiros and Ward in their younger, happier days, posing with grins and rakish stances on the mantelpiece caught her eye, causing her smile to become bittersweet. Dear, bumbling Laguna—he would be well missed. The SeeD soon understood what Keiros had meant by 'loads of private stuff' as she poked around the house. Packed away in every available space were war journals, tattered copies of the Timber Maniacs. Weapons semi-rusted or in good condition were tenderly packed away in boxes or in custom-made glass cases. The latter had little paper labels stuck to them, describing the story behind the contents previously written by their owners, containing little anecdotes and jokes of life in the army. Quistis found herself smiling despite herself, finding the spirits of the three comrades still lingering about her, warming her.

"Hey, stop mooning," Haisha called behind her. Quistis almost jumped, but quickly gathered herself and faced the younger woman, expressionless. Haisha must have seen something, though, for her face abruptly softened as her gaze went past Quistis to the stack of mementos. "You really loved those guys, huh." A blunt statement for a blunt nature, but Quistis knew that Haisha meant well.

"Which is why that bastard's going down," she said in reply. Haisha looked a little taken aback at the coldness in her voice, unaccustomed to the more predatory nature her friend was suddenly revealing, then smiled too. "Yeah. Sometimes I just love my job, what about you?"

"Sweet," was the answer. The doorbell rang, causing the two women to turn and glance at the entrance warily. You never knew…Haisha loped away to peer through the peephole before pressing the switch to open the gates. Elenor's distorted image moved across the parking lot and made an instantly recognizable gesture that signaled that all was well. Chewing on her lower lip, a nervous habit of hers that she had yet to break, Haisha let her in, on the double.

Elenor flopped on the battered couch the instant her feet passed the threshold, breathing deeply in relief. "Good to get some R and R. Gosh, those Custodia were everywhere," she snarled sagely. "Can't give a girl a moment of rest…"

"So…what did you find out?' Haisha asked eagerly, crouching at the foot of the couch while Quistis took a seat on one of the arms. "Anything juicy?"

Elenor smiled faintly. "More than that. One of the resistance group members recognized me, a real astute fellow that went through the same class with me but eventually dropped out. Estharian by birth. He really, really doesn't like Mardon, or so he tells me."

"Which is good, right? We need all the help we need," Haisha said cheerily. She had pulled her legs close to her and her chin was resting on her knees.

"So, what's the stats?" Quistis asked. "How many can we count on to help us?"

Elenor winced. "Truth is, this 'old friend' isn't really too trustful of us either. Even told me not to disclose his real name. The only reason he's helping us out now is because he knows that you," she indicated Quistis with a tilt of her head, "used to be Laguna's friend. Wouldn't tell me how many guys he has committed to the cause, but he did promise that one way or another we're going to get into the VIP booth. Clear line of shot for you, Haisha."

The petite woman nodded and smiled in anticipation. Then her eager grin faded. Turning to Quistis, she said quietly, "Hey, if you could, I bet you wish you're the one pulling the trigger, huh?"

The blonde instructor shrugged indifferently, but both Elenor and Haisha could see right through that one. "I can't let personal feelings interfere with our goal. Besides, you're the better shot with a rifle."

"Well, guess I can't complain," Haisha replied.

"What's the plan?" Quistis wanted to know.

Elenor smiled. "Turned out my friend was planning a strike of his own tonight, but since he's got us, he decided that he wouldn't risk his men unnecessarily. Thus…we got the job." She rummaged in her purse and came up with three laminated passes. Quistis pulled one over to examine; it looked authentic, stamps of authorization, photographs, signatures. "However…? Your friend sure has some resources. It's bloody amazing." She tapped her own photo; it felt odd seeing her own face, yet so drastically different with its frame of wavy yellow hair, staring back at her. "How did he get hold of our mugs?"

"Passports," Elenor said, and left it at that.

Haisha let out a whistle. "That is fast. How did he pull it off?"

"His policy is 'don't ask, don't tell.'" Elenor stretched out comfortably on the couch. "And now, if you don't mind, I'd like some sleep. The idiot guy almost brained me when he first saw me; thought I had turned, or something. Quite…nasty of him…" Her words faded into a sleepy snore. Quistis chuckled and hopped off the couch, still regarding their newfound tickets to success with more than a little apprehension. Stuff this sophisticated had to be inside work. But then again, not every one had been satisfied with Mardon's rule. Who knew how many spies had managed to infiltrate the palace? It was a little frightening.

Glancing at Haisha, she saw that the younger woman had curled up into a little ball and had gone to sleep too. Smiling slightly, Quistis let her eyes linger on the peaceful tableau as she headed towards the only other couch in the house. After all, who knew, it might be the last tranquil scene she might ever set eyes on again.

(That night…Esthar, Parade Ground)

Quistis fidgeted uncomfortably, tugging at her strands of hair as she moved with the flow of the crowd. She felt nervous and touchy with the impending mission, and she worried incessantly that in the crowd, anyone could be watching. An assassin with a knife could slide into her ribs the moment her back was turned and blend with the throng before anybody suspected anything. The plastic pass felt sweaty in her grasp, but she sought to compose herself as she neared the VIP box, mounted higher above the rest, and decorated with Esthar's colors. There was a kind of a little balcony jutting out where the VIPs could stand and wave at the audience. Perfect for some target practice, though that was clearly not the use the builders had had in mind when they had designed it, that was for sure.

Confident smile firmly in place, Quistis strode towards the entrance, no, sauntered, looking as though she had every right to be there. The Custodia pair guarding the entrance with guns drawn was clearly not impressed, however, as they quickly stopped her with the muzzle of one laser gun. "VIP admittance only," one barked, making Quistis's ears hurt. Did the Custodia receive any lessons in manners at all? She wondered idly.

"And VIP I am," she said grandly, flourishing the plastic card. Without so much as a by-your-leave, one of the guards snatched it from her grasp and ran it through a scanner, prompting an irritated frown from Quistis that in reality covered a deeper worry. They couldn't even be sure of Elenor's friend could be counted upon…To her relief, the scanner beeped and emitted a blinking green light, causing her to take back all her doubtful thoughts with a silent apology to the 'friend.'

"Clear," one of the men said, not sounding the least sorry as he gave the card back. Just as Quistis was about to march past with an affronted air, he added, "Not so fast, madam. We shall have to scan you first."

"Okay," she said with calm resignation, injecting the slightest bit of hurt into her voice. Hey, whatever worked. One Custodia ran her over with a handheld device, and it hummed peacefully until it made contact with her belt, a fancy affair of blue and silver links, attached by gold-gilt leather thongs that were tied at the ends so that the longer ends dangled over her bodice. The scanner let out a shrill beep that had everyone in the vicinity turning their heads.

"Remove your belt," the guard ordered.

"Fine, if you say so," she groused, rolling her eyes. The other man kept his gun trained on her, while she undid the chains and let it fall with a clatter onto the floor. "You know how much that cost?" she queried. It was answered by cold silence. Not that she expected anything else.

She came up clean after that, and the guards grudgingly stood aside to let her pass. As she went, she snatched up her 'belt' and secured it around her waist again. She smirked. The Custodia really needed a good eye checkup. She sighed in contentment as she ran her fingers over the smooth links of her Save The Queen. Thank goodness its colors went well with the clothes she was wearing.

She ascended the steps and ran her eyes alertly over the scene, seeing nothing and seeing all at once. As agreed, Haisha was sitting near the front; she was holding an animated conversation with a good-looking young man behind her dressed in the Galbadian colors and looked to be enjoying herself. Qusitis wondered what that young man would think if he had known that the sweet-faced young 'lady' in front of him was actually a trained assassin who could kill him seventeen different ways bare-handed and had a nasty rifle skillfully hidden on her person.

Probably not too much, she thought, and turned her attention discreetly to Elenor, seated alone and rigid-backed near a large group of dignitaries, some wearing the blue and white of the Coruthians, others with the flag of Galbadia. If they got unruly, it was her duty to subdue them with a harmless tear gas bomb that would induce temporary blindness and nausea.

Now she had reached the lower platform, where Haisha was sitting, facing directly towards the stage, chatting as though without a care in the world. She walked past without making any sign of acknowledgement and sat about three seats away, which was about a yard away where Deling's entourage were assigned to sit. If she couldn't have a shot at Mardon, maybe she could give Edigier a scar from Save The Queen to remember her for the rest of his life.

She checked her chrono. A quarter to eight, and they were all in position. Quistis gazed down and saw a black-suited figure stride onto the stage, illuminated by strobe lights, and for a moment thought she got a glimpse of his cold, ice blue eyes as he made for the center, trailed discreetly after by his bodyguards.

After tonight, she thought with grim satisfaction, they would be closed forever.

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Skeiz Mardon could barely contain his glee as he strode confidently to the microphone. This was his moment of triumph, the crowning moment of his glory, the result of years of hard work, aimed for this goal. He was President of the largest city on Gaia and the most technologically adept, and after tonight he would be officially joined in partnership with the next most powerful nation—Galbadia. And eventually—the world.

He could hardly wait.

Smiling benevolently at his city, his people, he spread his arms wide in a gesture meant to encompass the whole of the wide expanse before him, prompting a wave of applause and cheers from the Estharians. Not all, though, some sat sullen and silent in their seats when they should have been merrymaking, and Skeiz took note of them. He may have climbed over a few bodies to get up the ladder, but that didn't mean he didn't mean the best for his city, he thought, annoyed. Because of me, the Estharians would finally be established as rulers of this world, and a well-deserved position it would be too. They certainly never would have gotten this far under the leadership of that weak-willed fool, Laguna. Talk about having no ambition…

Clearing his throat, he looked around the stands one last time, and as he did something caught his eye. For a moment he thought he saw…he wasn't sure what he saw, but then as quickly as it had come the odd sensation was gone. He was unaware that at this moment Quistis Trepe sat atop the VIP stand, blue eyes boring into his.

"My greetings to you, people of Esthar," he said, smiling charmingly, the smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "Tonight we shall be united with Galbadia in a historic moment of truce between us. There will establishment of new ties, our old feuds forgotten. Tonight, I am certain, shall be a night you shall never forget."

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You got that right, buster, but not for the reasons that you think, Quistis Trepe thought fiercely, glaring daggers at the man she loathed so much. After all, dying was a pretty unforgettable experience, or so she'd heard. She resisted the urge to make eye contact with Haisha, at this stage, if anything could go wrong it would. She scanned the stage, picking out the bodyguards, and her eyes widened as she recognized one of them. Loki Calrior. They had worked together and he had been slated to be the next Headmaster after her. Could she fight him, if things came down to it? Would he fight her? She had liked him… he was nice, smart, and funny and handy with his twin pistols. Right now he stood at attention, in that rigid, unbending way she remembered, dark eyes flicking around, seeing nothing and everything at once. Another thought presented itself that Loki could pose a worse danger; he might recognize her, after all the time they had spent together.

Just what they needed, yet another complication in their already unstable plan.

The chrono beeped, and Quistis felt her muscles tense. She glanced sideways quickly. Haisha was standing, smiling at her companion, waving. Turning, she strode down towards the platform, where she raised a camera. Leaning over the railing, she started snapping pictures. Qusitis feigned interest in her for a couple of seconds before returning her attention to Skeiz. He was saying, "Let us walk ahead together, to a brighter future, where Gaia will finally be at peace, order established, and this age will be remembered as the golden years of Gaia's history." Looking up, he smiled at the night sky. "And here comes the President of Galbadia. Citizens of Esthar, please rise."

The sound of a helicopter filled the air, coming fast. The eyes of every person in the stadium were tilted towards the sky, watching in suspense. Even Loki, distracted for a brief moment, glanced up.

Quistis suffered no such deviation from her goal. It had been in her dreams too long. She imagined what was going on behind her right now as she rose, unfolding her lanky body from her seat; Elenor, tossing the bomb into the packed crowd of politicians, their brief struggles concealed by the roar of the engines. Haisha had dropped her camera and was now hastily assembling the gun, a nasty long-range soft bullet piece of work. She set Skeiz in her cross-hairs, aiming for the space between his eyes, her eyes narrowing as she poured her soul into the bullet, the little piece of metal straining to burst out of the muzzle, and fired.

It streaked across the sky in the aftermath of the blast, muffled, but not entirely, by the silencer. Heading straight towards the heart of a man who deserved to die. Quistis prayed it would strike, even as she ran towards Haisha to jerk her away from the scene. Mesmerized, Haisha stared at her impending kill, her eyes glazed, as though she could still control the direction of her weapon.

Skeiz moved, Whetehr it was the doing of fickle Fate, or his own sense of caution, he moved. Just a little, bending down to shake the hand of a wellwisher. In any case, the bullet did not hit where it was intended to. Quistis knew that they should run, they had failed, but she could not tear her eyes away as the bullet penetrated the throat of a bodyguard standing behind Skeiz—thankfully, or not, Loki, Quistis thought deliriously, killing him instantly.

For a moment, there was shocked, breathless silence, a few seconds after the echoes of the gun had died away. Qusitis found her feet were frozen to the spot, despite her inner senses wailing out an urgent siren that she should get the hell out of there now. But the weight of failure pressed her to the ground and stole away her breath; freezing her gut into a solid ball of ice. Failure…it was something she was accustomed to, as a SeeD, but it always hurt whenever she experienced it. The seconds stretched out into long ages of despair as she struggled to come to terms with the disappointment.

"Out!" Elenor ordered, grabbing her shoulder and roughly shaking her back to her senses. Quistis, out of her momentary daze, nodded sharply, not at all offended by Elenor's gruffness. Now was not the time for coddling. Haisha, though obviously crestfallen, moved fast, tucking the gun under her arm. Running swiftly, hopping over the fallen bodies sprawled haphazardly on the floor, they reached the end of the box. The pane of glass overlooked a park, dark and gloomy in the night, gradually flooded by seeking lights. Nevertheless, it was the only way to go.

"Floats at the ready?" Haisha asked. "Let's get out then." She closed her eyes, drew on the magical energy loaned to her by the Guardian Force nestled within her mind.

"Wait." Quistis grabbed Elenor's sleeve just as the other instructor was about to smash in the window with the help of the bulky end of Haisha's gun, now rendered pretty much useless; Haisha, not wanting to be weighed down, had only brought a few cartridges that would hardly put scarcely, if at all, put a dent in the ranks of their enemy. Raising a quizzical eyebrow, Elenor faced the blonde. "Wait? For what? The rescue cavalry?"

"Nah." Quistis grinned wryly. "It's just that…" her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Me and Skeiz, we have a score to settle, and I am not going to walk away just like that when Mr. Pompous-and-Arrogant is conveniently situated less than a hundred metres away. This thing has to be finished, and I intend to be the one to do it."

"Are you crazy?" Haisha screeched, jerked out of her concentration by Quistis' startling pronouncement. "The Custodia are everywhere! You'll die for nothing." The young woman's urgency was conveyed through her frantic tone and wide eyes. "Please, Quistis…I know how you feel, but don't throw your life away."

Touched, Quistis nevertheless forced herself to pull away from Haisha's grasp. Speaking so fast her words melded with each other, she said, "It won't be for nothing…because I intend to win. Look, we've got no time, but let me explain this fact." A stray bullet whizzed through the glass with a silvery tinkle, passing scant inches from Quistis' head. "When is an opportunity like this going to come again? We've got to take advantage of the confusion; those guards out there are expecting us to bust out, not dig our grave further. So…just go, okay? I'd suggest a hostage."

"Quistis…" Hsiah implored.

Elenor nodded. "You've got it, leader." Drawing her hand back, she brought down the gun hard on the glass, spraying shards outwards in a deadly rain upon the Custodia that waited like black wolves beneath the box. Giving Quistis a curt nod, she scooped up the nearest body, that of a portly, middle-aged man with graying hair and a dark blue uniform festooned with so many decorations it was a miracle how he had managed to stand in the first place. She stepped to the edge of the shattered window, and smield brefly at Quistis. Raising her hand, she spoke the beginning words of the Float and let herself fall.

Haisha stood there, looking forlorn, then without another look back she hopped off in Elenor's wake. Quistis stayed long enough to watch the Float take effect, white surges of power flaring out in the shape of feathered wings, before she was sprinting through the smoke-filled air, to the balcony where their plan had gone so horribly wrong.

She was there, and the metal railing was hard against her stomach as she looked down, into the veritable storm of gray-uniformed men, crimson sirens, and frightened people screaming and shoving in terror, hampering the efforts of the Custodia despite their attempts to restore order. None of them gazed towards the box where the lone blonde fugure stood. Quistis smiled in grim satisfaction; it seemed even fate was working right for her now.

One Float coming up, she signaled to Siren.

I hear and wish you good luck in your endeavor, the seductive Guardian replied in her musical, husky voice. Quistis felt a invigorating rush of heady power fill her body, and knew that the ever faithful Guardian had helpfully boosted her magic and strength for the upcoming fight. Quistis sent a mental thank-you. She would need the boost. Everything in her soul yearned for the coming fight, the wielding of the justice that would send a certain arrogant bastard to where he belonged.

Baring her teeth in an animal snarl, reflecting the long pent up rage boiling inside her, Quistis jumped, and as though drawn by some magnetic force, across the stadium Skeiz Mardon turned to look at her, and his own anger was expressed in the sharp contours of his face. Blue eyes met, and held, locked by hatred. Impatiently his hand flicked to his belt, where the leather-bound handle of his own whip, Potent, resided.

Quistis had jumped; the wind snatched at her blond tresses, whipping it around her face. As the magic of the Float kicked in, she kicked out, one steel-shod heel slamming hard against the wall of the box, sending a web of cracks racing across the alumnisteel surface, her prodigious strength propelling her across the heads of startled citizens and enraged Custodia alike below. Save The Queen was in her hand, and to her mind it seemed to throb hungrily, straining towards the source of her immense loathing.

She flipped in mid-air, and as a suitable target caught her attention, she lashed out with Save The Queen. The links snagged hold of a handy Estharian flag on the stage and as she pulled, she shot forward into the air. Another flip, and she stood on both feet on the stage, gazing evenly at Skeiz Mardon.

"Hello, Skeiz." She said lightly, belying the sudden maelstrom of emotions churning inside her intestines,

He smiled coldly. "Welcome to Esthar, Ms. Trepe."

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Author's Ending Note: 28/4/05- Whew! Two months later, I finally find myself here at the end of this darned chapter. I'm really, ultra sorry for my slowness, cos I don't really like my subplot and I have some trouble developing it. Initially I planned to finish the entire affair in this chapter, that is the assassination of Mardon, but I figured it'll take me another couple weeks or so to finish, so I'll just put it up now. I'm afraid from now on it'll be one chapter every two months…So…thanks to all you guys who reviewed.

Thanks to:

meowwl: I'll say…but I live in Asia, I wonder how long it will take for AC to make it over here, if ever…sigh…

Noacat: Yeah, she'll be alright, now that there're reinforcements coming over. Keep tuned to find out more! I suppose, though, even without the dream scene this chapter it's kinda obvious who they are already…lol.

Anasazi Darkmoon: Hey, congrats for finishing your story! Unlike me. Are you planning a sequel? And…no…I'm not bringing in everyone, you'll see why.

TheWyldeWestWind: …I'm sorry! I'll try to be a bit faster, but there's some writer's block here.

Macky: Sure.

AsheRhyder: Have you read any more than that?

Dark Feruil: Great to see you back…and reviewing…

Dark Knight Gafgar: ..Why do I keep thinking of exploding cows…? And as usual, your feelings are way different from the others. Makes for variety.

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