Chapter One: Guardians of the Day
Moon light shone down through the open window, accompanied by the scent of the salty ocean air, which itself was chased by the gentle lapping of ocean waves. Silvery light played through the darkened room, providing most of the illumination for the chamber. Under normal lighting, the room would be a small but well-decorated living room of a small apartment, with a couple of doors leading off into a bedroom and a bathroom. There was an odd mix of both Spartan-style minimalism and homey decorations around the living area. The moonlight reflected off a few knick-knacks of the chamber, but the majority of the light fell across the center of the room, where a single shirtless figure sat.
His body was small but featured the sculpted and toned muscles of a career warrior. His hair draped down almost past his chin, well-maintained but left uncut by personal preference, and appeared to be the only thing unruly and uncontrolled about him. A short, closely trimmed brown beard and mustache marked his face, starting from halfway up his jaw line and running down to his chin. In the light, they appeared jet black. Black pants, loose trousers intended for sleeping, were the only clothes he wore tonight as he sat on the floor, legs crossed and looking down at what lay before him.
On one side was a scabbard, beside which lay a long, glittering gunblade. The blade itself was transparent, and shone with a cool blue light that cast its soft glow across the small apartment, lighting the chamber in its raw power. The edge was incredibly sharp and durable, and could chop through solid metal. It was perfected weapon, an instrument of death in its deadliest form, energy crystallized into a lethal cutting edge. The man lifted the weapon, looking into its shining edge, and admired the beauty and its potential for killing. After a moment, he set the weapon down and looked to his left, at a second sheath, beside which was another weapon.
It was polished metallic gunblade, marked by the image of a crouching lion atop its blade. The weapon was well-used, but still unblemished somehow despite all the war and bloodshed it had waded through in its working lifetime. The edge was still razor sharp and deadly. Slowly, the man lifted up the gunblade, reverently staring into the weapon and at its reflection. While the weapon on his right was an instrument of death made perfected, this weapon, the heavy gunblade that reflected his face so perfectly, designed for his own hands, and wielded throughout much of his combat career, was where his heart resided.
The two weapons had important places in his life. The metal gunblade he had designed for himself, and had wielded for most of his life, and had even scored his first human kill by. But the other gunblade had seen him through many challenges, and even more importantly, had been given to him as a gift from, of all people, a father asking his child for forgiveness.
Squall Leonhart looked down into the two weapons he carried with him in his life, the two blades that had truly defined his life, and considered that existence. On this night, like so many others, he thought and meditated on his purpose in life and his reason for existing.
Squall was not a regretful man. He had no reason to regret any turn he had taken in his life. He was far from alone, and had put part of his soul into another human, one who perfected his life and made him complete, filling a gap he had never realized was there. He and his comrades were alive, and Garden, under his military command, had assumed an important place in the world. He had risen from a single helpless child at a distant orphanage to standing in a place where he could play a critical role in the world, which he already had. By his hands had Ultimecia, the evil Sorceress who had ruined his world, been defeated as she had tried to destroy all of existence within time compression. He had come back from that in the arms of his love, and had returned to a world where everything had been righted.
Now, however, in this new world, Squall had found time to himself, where he was not worrying about his comrades or his safety, or trying to protect the world from a raw evil from beyond time. Now, he had quiet moments of peace and reflection, and as the last three years had passed, Squall had come to a realization.
His position demanded quite a bit of office work, but he often participated in missions, in a commanding and leading role. These missions he always looked forward to, refusing to bind himself to a desk and fill out forms all day long. He enjoyed the rush of battle, the pitting of his weapon against an enemy's. He enjoyed relaying commands and matching wits with his foes. He had never shied away from a battle and had often pushed himself, physically and mentally, in many tasks, going above and beyond what was required of him. It was in these moments that Squall Leonhart felt an odd sort of peace, and understanding of himself.
That itself was what interested the SeeD Commander as he sat cross-legged in his living room inside Balamb Garden's dorm complex, looking at his weapons and exploring what they meant to him and his life. He had heard stories of warriors who placed their honor into their weapons, who would literally fight to the death to protect their blades. Squall was not quite that close to his weapons, but he held them near and dear to his heart. They were like close companions, extensions of his own body, and the art of utilizing them was something that he sought to continue to perfect.
"Trouble sleeping?" came a soft voice from behind him, and Squall turned his head to look back over his shoulder at the door leading into the bedroom he shared with an intimately closer companion.
"No, Rinoa," he replied, shaking his head as he watched her step out from the doorway. Even at this late hour, Rinoa still seemed as beautiful as ever. Even without any makeup or grooming (which Squall often insisted she didn't need) Rinoa was still stunning. Her hair had grown out just as his had, draping down to the middle of her back, raven-black and featuring caramel highlights shooting through it. In the pale moonlight the gown she wore shined a cool blue-white, and her light skin took on an alabaster hue. Her dark brown eyes glittered in the illumination as she dropped down behind him.
"What's wrong?" she asked, draping both arms over his shoulders and resting her chin against his neck. She looked down at the weapons laying before him, and understood what he was thinking about. That was her gift, he knew; the ability to innately sense the thoughts of someone else, as if she had psychic powers linking her directly into another's mind.
"I've been thinking," he said after a few moments. "For most of my life I've been focused on one thing. All I've learned to do in my life is to fight and kill. And more importantly, those are the things I'm best at, and when I'm in combat or on a mission, I feel more alive then I do in normal life. I've just been wondering whether that was simply a product of my upbringing here in Garden or something more."
"Something more?" she asked, curiously, and he nodding, looking back to his weapons.
"A lot of kids around here have been with Garden since they were very young," Squall explained quietly. "But they don't seem much like me in terms of how they deal with stress or violence. I've seen kids who've been here as long as me crack in combat, but I . . . Its hard to say, but its like I enjoy combat. No, that's not right . . . ." Squall shook his head slightly. "I don't enjoy killing. But on the battlefield, I feel . . . Complete, somehow. Its like when I'm with you, but different, some way."
"Are you comparing me to a SeeD mission?" Rinoa asked, and she rapped the back of his head playfully. Squall managed a slight chuckle.
"It might be because of the way you were raised," Rinoa added after a few moments. "You lost Ellone at such a young age, and bottled it all up. Before you met me there was only one thing you cared about, and that was being a SeeD and completing the mission. Maybe this is part of it?"
"I don't know," Squall replied, shaking his head again. "This feels more innate, somehow. Its not a sense of happiness, as much as it is a sense of completion . . . Like I'm meant to be fighting and killing." he turned his head, looking Rinoa in the eyes, only a scant couple of inches apart.
"Like I'm meant to be with you," he added, and she smiled. She moved her face forward a bit and kissed him on the nose.
"I think I'm far more important than any SeeD mission, in your eyes, at least," she added, and he nodded.
"You can guarantee that," Squall answered. He reached forward and picked up his weapons, sliding them into their sheaths one at a time. As soon as he finished, he reached up and put his hands over Rinoa's, and looked back at her again.
"Come on, Squall," she said quietly. "Its after midnight. This time of night is not your best hour for you to do most of your work."
"You said something different a couple nights ago around this time," Squall responded, and she smiled and rose. He followed a moment later as she stepped toward the bedroom.
"Now, Commander, that was a dramatically different situation," Rinoa replied as they moved into the bedroom. "For example, you weren't wearing pants then."
Squall managed a smile as he stepped over her robe, pooling on the floor. He took her hand and she led him inside.
"Well, I think we can remedy that difference," he answered.
Quistis leaned against the metal railing of the balcony, her gloved fingers keenly feeling the cool chill of the steel beneath her fingers. She looked up into the dark blue of the night sky, lit by the glimmering stars and the shining majesty of the moon, and pondered. Below her, stretching out before her, were the tall steel towers and reflective solar panels of Fisherman's Horizon, which at even this late hour was still fairly active. Below her stretched Balamb Garden, docked alongside the massive construction-rig-turned-city, and to her left, the blood-red hull of Galbadia Garden could be seen reflecting the moonlight as well.
Two Gardens were stationed at Fisherman's Horizon, and a virtual army of SeeDs were present within the two flying academies and mercenary bases. She could see a dozen more ships docked all around Fisherman's Horizon, warships belonging to the navies of Galbadia and Dollet, already arriving to pave the way for the conference that would start soon in this city.
She sighed as she looked over them, and turned her eyes back up toward the stars. It had been three years since the Sorceress war had ended, with Garden triumphant. Ultimecia was defeated, Adel was dead, and the power-mad regime of Vinzer Deling in Galbadia was gone, replaced by the government of Acting-President Hibrom Caraway. There had been numerous promises made across international boundaries, between the Dollet Dukedom, Galbadian Republic, and Estharian Republic, promising to reconcile differences and form an international union to promote world peace. Garden had, under the unanimous approval of all three nations, been hired to serve as a highly skilled and neutral security force to protect the numerous delegates and world leaders who would be present for the conference, in addition to the defense added from the troops and ships from the participating nations. Things would soon calm down in the world, they all knew, and with level heads like Caraway and Laguna in charge, peace would be a reality after this conference.
Unfortunately, that was one thing that bothered Quistis Trepe, Chief of Garden Academics and Executive Commander of Balamb Garden. With the promise of peace, SeeD, as a mercenary group, would face a slimmer budget and fewer contracts . . . even with their new, evolving role of training security forces and acting as bodyguards and technical specialists instead of as a primarily strike or support force. There were rumors that Garden may end up integrated as a kind of international police force instead of a mercenary force serving the highest bidder, but some people in Garden were hesitant to embrace that position, because of the threat to Garden's independent nature. Quistis had always been one to view Garden's independence as a defining factor in its position in world politics.
She shook her head. Quistis knew she was likely worrying too much about this. The governments of Esthar, Galbadia, and Dollet knew that Garden worked best independently, but even now they were tied to all three nations in various ways. Military alliance with Dollet, and having high-ranking members of the organization personally related to the heads of Galbadia and Esthar had that effect. She had advised Squall and Cid, as well as Galbadia Garden Headmaster Martine Cayes and Trabia Garden Headmaster Gerrard Kerr, that this level of connection with the other nations was almost too close anyway. By tying themselves too closely to other nations, Garden could risk becoming trapped in their politics and lose autonomy. The others were considering her analysis and warnings, and had yet to commit.
Quistis' musings were interrupted as the door behind her, leading into the forested Training Center, opened with a loud clang, followed by some laughter. She glanced back, and saw a female SeeD and a male cadet the same age stepping through the door, holding hands and laughing. They stopped as soon as they saw Quistis, and both went to reflexive attention.
"At ease," she said after a moment, shaking her head and smiling slightly.
"Umm, sorry, ma'am," the SeeD said quickly as they both relaxed. "We didn't think anyone was out here-"
"Its alright," Quistis replied with a shake of her head. "I was just leaving. Make sure to lock the door behind you if you want to share something . . . Intimate." The couple nodded, and Quistis stepped past them, toward the door. She didn't bother telling them it against curfew to be out here talking, or doing other things. It wasn't official policy, but no one got in the way of letting the students have "free time" in the hidden balcony past the Training Center. The faculty understood that privacy was necessary, especially to relieve some of the pressure of everyday life as a student and mercenary.
Quistis moved into the humid, darkened jungle-like Training Center, inhaling the scents and the sounds of the contained environment. She kept her eyes open as she walked back through the jungle, and a finger on the coiled chain whip at her side. Even as she was watching, Quistis reflected back on the happy couple, and a thought hit her as she did so.
She didn't actually have anyone to call her own. For a long time, she had been very close, at least in her mind, to Squall, but he had always been so distant, if not outright hostile, towards anyone who tried to get close to him. She had tried her hardest to break him out of his shell, at first out of a simple desire to get him to open up. For some time she had actually thought she was in love with him, to some degree, but had cast it aside as Squall became a SeeD. Quistis had chosen to remain content with staying as a simple friend, or as close to a friend as she could be to him.
And then Rinoa had arrived in his life just afterward, and Quistis had watched her break through his defenses with that incredible empathetic gift of hers, virtually reading his mind and digging a place into his soul, earning a spot so close even he had not realized what she had become to him until he had almost lost her. In a way, Quistis was sad that Rinoa had succeeded where she had not, but she was also happy that Squall had found someone he could and would spend his lifetime with.
But that left Quistis all alone, with no one close to her. Well, she had the Trepies, but they were simply a bunch of kids who were too caught up with how "amazing" Quistis was to see the real person inside. Not to mention that a lot of them were growing up and going in other directions rather than idolizing their favorite Garden officer. And without them, Quistis really didn't have anyone truly close to her. She had friends, in her closest comrades, including Squall and Rinoa, but someone to fill in her life, a person she could really join with like Squall had with Rinoa, was missing.
Quistis heard a faint rustling in the trees behind her, and she spun, pulling her rante out in a single smooth motion, the chain whip falling into her hands, right hand gripping the handle and the left catching the weapon just beneath its curving blade. She eyed the location that the sound had come from, and tensed, ready to cut down the monster as it emerged.
"Such dense plant life," came a voice, speaking in a thick, cultured accent, and Quistis began to stand down as a man moved between two trees, brushing some branches off his black dress coat.
"It's a wonder you people can find the monsters you're supposed to kill here," he added with a smile as he saw Quistis. She quickly noted his immaculate clothes and closely shaved brown mustache and beard, as well as the smooth, dignified way the man walked across the small clearing they were in. He glanced at her weapon, which Quistis quickly lowered.
"Precautionary, and quick reflexes," the man commented, tapping his forehead with an index finger and nodding approvingly. "Most definitely a SeeD." Quistis nodded.
"Sorry about pulling a weapon on you," she replied. "Usually there's monsters running loose here, not people."
"I certainly understand," replied the gentleman with a smile. He regarded her for a moment, and nodded again. "Would you know where I can find a man named Squall? Squall Leonhart?"
"Who wants to know?" Quistis asked, a bit surprised that the man wanted to see Squall. And what was he doing in the Training Center in the first place? How did he get into Garden, too? Alarm bells started going off in her head as she thought those questions.
"Ah, forgive me," the man replied, and he formally bowed, one arm moving across his stomach and the other rising and sweeping out wide. "My name is Alucard."
"What business do you have with Garden?" Quistis asked, and as Alucard rose, he chuckled. He had caught her tone, suddenly shifting from friendly to a bit more formal and authoritative.
"I merely seek him out," Alucard explained casually. "It is always customary for the king of the night to seek out the guardian of the day, in order to ask his permission before treading on that which he defends."
King of the night? What is he talking about?
"And, my dear, may I ask what your name is?" Alucard asked.
"Quistis Trepe," she replied, still trying to figure out Alucard's intentions. The man nodded suddenly in understanding, rubbing his chin as he considered her again.
"Ah, I see," he murmured. "I was seeking your commander because of his fame, but I know your name as well. The title of 'guardian of the day' can actually apply to a number of people . . . Among them yourself, my dear."
"So, what?" Quistis asked. "You want my permission to let you walk around in the daylight?"
"It is tradition to at least seek them out for permission," Alucard answered with a grin.
"Who are you, really?" Quistis asked, and the man chuckled.
"I'll give you an answer, but first, I want something," he replied.
"That being . . . ."
"A mere test of what a mortal like yourself can do," responded Alucard, and he suddenly seemed to simply appear before Quistis, an arm cutting across in a vicious hook aimed at her face. She ducked back and low, beneath his fist, and countered with a quick, powerful uppercut that smashed into his chin and launched him back a few feet. He seemed to right himself in midair and landed easily, and quickly clapped his hands.
"Excellent reaction time, and impressive physical power," Alucard said as Quistis raised her rante, dropping into a combat crouch. He circled around her, and she responded likewise, immediately aware that the man seemed to have suffered no ill effects from her punch. She was outfitted with Guardian Forces at the moment, and knew that a punch from her would knock a normal man silly. He seemed to have shrugged it off with a smile.
"Now, let's test your form," he continued, and shot forward again, inhumanly fast, spinning around into a smooth axe kick that slashed down at her. Quistis spun beneath the kick, which dropped past her, and came around with her whip snapping at Alucard. The man's foot touched the ground and he hopped back, before coming in with a speedy punch that blurred across the space between them. Quistis caught the punch by quickly sidestepping and spinning, dropping her left hand on the man's wrist and redirecting his momentum, sending Alucard into a spinning dive toward the dirt. He somehow managed to right himself in the air again, turning the throw into a somersault that ended with his standing straight and tall, grinning.
"You know what you're doing, I'll give you that," Alucard stated, pausing only to straighten his strange red tie slightly. "Now, footwork. If I step here-" he said, and shot forward, swinging around to her left with a spinning kick. Quistis stepped back and ducked low, beneath the kick, and came up with her whip snapping forward at his face. He clapped both hands before him, and actually caught the blade between his hands as it neared him, stopping it in midair. She blinked in surprise as he held the blade, and then the man released it.
"And now, if I step here-" he continued, and came around to her right with a thrusting punch with tremendous weight behind the attack. Quistis was already stepping around the attack as it came in, spinning around behind Alucard and striking with her whip again, aimed squarely at his back. He seemed to vanish, reappearing just outside her reach, and clapped once more.
"Very, very good!" he continued. "Most impressive, my dear! Most impressive! If all the SeeDs are like yourself, you are definitely worthy of your place in this world."
"Thanks, I think," Quistis responded, still confused by the attack. He had just been testing her, right? It would have seemed like he had been trying to kill her, if it weren't for his commentary throughout the brief battle. "Did I pass?"
"Oh, most certainly!" answered Alucard with a wide smile. "And now, you had a question for me, correct?"
"Yes," she replied, nodding. "Who are you? How did you get into Garden?"
"As for the second question, I have my ways," he replied. "And for the first, I am Alucard, but I suspect you wish to know my intentions and why I am capable of what I've been doing, yes? It is quite simple, when one researches the origins of that name. But I have already given you all the information I suspect you need to make the proper connections, my dear. If you are as bright as they say, then you can figure it out with no trouble at all."
With that, Alucard spun on his heels and started back the way he'd come, toward the Training Center's "secret area."
"Hold it!" she quickly ordered, but Alucard didn't stop, quickly vanishing in the trees. Quistis ran after him, and heard rustling ahead, as if he was moving through the foliage before her, moving directly toward the hidden area. She chased after him doggedly through the forest, until crashing through the verdant plant life on the other end, in the small clearing before the "secret area." Quistis quickly scanned the area for Alucard, and saw that the only way he could have gone from here without being seen was to go toward that door leading outside. She ran to the door and tried opening it, but the door was firmly locked. Quistis rapped on it loudly, and after a minute, which felt like an eternity, the door creaked open, revealing both the SeeD and the cadet who had been outside, clothing and hair disheveled. It was obvious what they had been doing.
"Did a man pass through here?" she asked quickly, and both of them shook their heads.
"No, ma'am, the door was locked," the cadet responded. Quistis turned around and scanned the area, looking for any place Alucard might have gone to, but saw not even a trace of him. She shook her head and turned back.
"Sorry to bother you two," she explained, and then spun and strode away, still confused about the mysterious stranger.
Who was that man? And what did he mean, about his name being the key to understanding who he was? And that whole "king of the night" thing . . . .
"Morning, sir," came the usual greeting from the SeeD guard outside Garden's control center as Squall stepped off the elevator. Squall grunted and nodded, his usual reply to the guard, or really anyone else who called him "sir." The guard, a young, newly ordained SeeD, moved to open the doors, but the Garden Commander waved his hand, stopping the guard in place. He opened the door himself and stepped inside the command center.
It had once been the Headmaster's office, but events during the Sorceress War had necessitated a change and some renovations. The center of the room featured a tall column that rose up to the top of the chamber, upon which was the command and control systems that piloted Garden. It had once been gunmetal gray, but the Headmaster had ordered it painted a creamy white color. All around that central column, the display cases that Cid had adorned his office with were replaced by rings of desks and computer monitors, and two dozen SeeDs and civilian employees were busily working. The left wall featured a large television screen that showed a map of Fisherman's Horizon, with important items of note marked, as well as a dozen smaller images neatly arrayed to the side, which showed information on other areas of the world. The right side of Cid's former office had been modified, the lower half of the wall having been removed and the nearby offices on that side converted into a large conference and briefing area, accessible from the control center. Above this, accessible through a spiraling staircase rising between them, was a pair of offices with shutters that could be opened to reveal the command center or closed for privacy.
The office on the right belonged to Squall. He had, naturally, refused to be given such an important place, preferring to have an office on the ground, but the Headmaster had insisted he use it, due to his importance in the Garden command structure. Squall had finally accepted a few weeks after the renovations were completed, and moved in there.
As soon as he stepped into Balamb Garden's nerve center, which resounded with the sounds of tapping keyboards, muted conversations, and phone calls, he spotted Xu cutting across the room, a binder of files in her hands. He sighed as she approached him, and knew he was going to have some desk work soon.
"Morning, Commander," she said, with her typical polite smile. He nodded back, a polite greeting for him, and glanced at her binder as she brought it up.
"These are the intelligence files you asked about," she explained. "All the data we have on the known terrorist groups that might try to disrupt today's conference."
"Thanks," he replied, hefting the binder. It was remarkably light, and he raised an eyebrow. "So few?"
"We cut out the ones that we know don't have the resources to attempt anything," she replied, and Squall nodded. "All the intel we could need regarding those groups that could attack is in there. We've already coordinated with Galbadian Intelligence and the Dollet Security Agency on this."
"What about the Estharian Bureau?" Squall asked, and Xu shook her head.
"They're dragging their feet, but they should have things ready by the time your . . . I mean, President Loire arrives." Squall nodded, showing no visible reaction to Xu's almost-slip.
"What's the status of our assigned escort?" Squall asked, and Xu nodded toward the screen and started walking toward it.
"The Ragnarok is en route to the Estharian train station now, and should be arriving soon. Zell and his team should be joining President Loire's escort on board the train, and two other Ragnarok-class assault ships are on station to provide air escort until they reach FH's airspace, at which point we'll take over."
"Laguna is serious about commemorating the reopening of the Horizon Bridge," Squall commented as the map changed, to show the train station west of Esthar. While before, it had been a dilapidated set of old buildings, a new, modern train station had been built there.
"It's a big symbol of international peace," Xu replied with a shrug. "Two decades since its been shut down. President Caraway and Duke Haroldington are riding trains from Timber, along with Timber's representatives. Hopefully they'll all arrive on time in FH at the same moment. The press is dying to get pics of them all stepping off the trains at the same time and shaking hands."
"Public relations," Squall groaned, shaking his head. He hated dealing with the public. "And our other teams?"
"SeeD escorts are already with the other leaders at the Timber train station, along with a small army of Galbadian Rangers and Dollet Marines in the 125th. It'll be good to see the General again, won't it?"
Squall nodded halfheartedly, and glanced to the side as the door into the command center opened once more, and in stepped Quistis. She seemed a bit distracted, but quickly scanned the room and spotted Squall and Xu. He raised a hand and waved her over, before turning back to Xu.
"What about Irvine and Selphie?" he asked, and Xu nodded toward the screen again.
"They're riding to Esthar on the Ragnarok too, before it takes a swing north toward Trabia and drops them off in the Bika Snowfield with the Trabia Garden team waiting for them there. They should be on the ground in a few hours."
"I don't like the sound of that operation," Squall muttered, shaking his head. "I know that the locals are paying us a lot to have a team out there, but I don't like having SeeDs chasing 'demons' or whatever they've called that thing out there."
"You sound so formal, Squall," Quistis commented as she stopped beside him. "Its Irvine and Selphie, after all." Squall shrugged and nodded.
"That may be the problem," he added. "I don't like people I'm close to going off on wild Chocobo chases like this."
"Money is money," Xu replied with a shrug, and Squall nodded. He glanced back at Quistis, and noticed she was looking up toward the monitor, but her eyes were not focused on it.
"Something wrong?" he asked her, and it took her a moment to realize he was speaking to her.
"Oh, no," Quistis replied quickly. " I was just thinking for a moment. Can I talk to you privately?" Squall nodded and gestured toward his office. They moved across the room and up the spiral staircase, and stepped into Squall's workspace, a simple room with a neat desk, complete with monitor and several stacks of paper, well-organized but not precisely lined up.
"Yeah, what is it?" Squall asked as Quistis shut the door behind her.
"There was an intruder in Garden last night," she explained. "He was in the Training Center."
"He cause problems?" Squall asked quickly, obviously concerned, and Quistis shook her head.
"No. He said his name was Alucard, and he was looking for you."
"Did he say why?" Squall asked after a moment, and Quistis shrugged.
"Something about meeting the 'guardian of the day' so he could ask permission to walk in the light," she replied, obviously not understanding what he wanted. "Then, when he found out my name, he said I was a 'guardian' too, and attacked me."
"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Squall asked immediately, and she shook her head.
"It seemed he was just testing me, to see if I was good enough," she explained. "After he was done he told me that if I wanted to know who he was, I needed to look into his name. Then he ran off."
"That's rather . . . Strange," Squall said, shaking his head. "I don't understand his motives." Squall crossed his arms, thinking for a few moments, and then stepped over to his desk. He hit a button on the speaker phone, and a voice spoke up from one of the technicians below.
"Andrews?" came the name of one of the SeeDs in Information Retrieval.
"This is Commander Leonhart," Squall spoke. "I need Information Retrieval to run a search on the name 'Alucard' and report back to me."
"Yes sir, we'll get on it now," came the immediate response. Squall cut the line and turned back to Quistis.
"We'll deal with this later," he continued. "Right now we need to focus on securing Fisherman's Horizon for the peace conference." She nodded, and they headed back out of the office and toward the main floor of Garden's nerve center to direct the defense of what would be the most important day in centuries.
"So, ya'll are on what Squall calls 'wild chocobo chases'?" Zell asked as he sat back in the comms chair of the bridge of the Ragnarok. Selphie, in the copilot's seat, nodded.
"Aw, its not too bad," Irvine added from the gunner's seat with a shrug. "We needed someone who knew how to operate in Trabia, and Selphie came up top on the list, since all the other Trabian SeeDs at Balamb are out on operations."
"And you volunteered to tag along," Selphie added, leaning back in her chair and looking at Irvine upside down.
"Not going to let a lady walk around unescorted," Irvine said with a grin. "Especially you, Selphie."
"Oh, knock it off, you two," came a thickly accented comment from the pilot, an older SeeD named Mike, transferred from Galbadia Garden. Zell chuckled as both Irvine and Selphie sent surprised looks to the pilot. It was well known that both of them were an item within Garden. Before the final clash in compressed time, something had been happening between them, and during the fight against Ultimecia, Irvine had died. Then Selphie, before dying at Ultimecia's hands, had reacted with extreme violence at his death. After the incident with Ultimecia, both Irvine and Selphie had came back in the void across time, happily reunited. There were whispers in Garden that something was going on between them, but for some reason they had not committed to any kind of relationship, though this sparked scores of rumors. Zell, one of the closest friends to the pair, knew that they had not really gotten together, though he saw potential in both of them. There were sparks between them, like those between Squall and Rinoa before they had gotten together, but Zell hoped they wouldn't have to go through the same traumatic events that had marked that relationship.
"Okay, you two," Zell added before anyone could get in another word. "What exactly is this mission you guys are on, anyway? No one told me anything about it."
"Nothing much," Irvine responded, stretching out. "Locals said that a demon child or something had been born in the town a couple of years back. The old folks taking care of it hid it in the woods so it would be safe from everyone who was scared of it. Now they're saying that the demon kid is back, and there's been people vanishing in the woods around where the kid is supposed to be staying."
"So, they called in SeeD to hunt some fairy tale kid and find missing hikers?" Mike commented incredulously.
"Hey, their money's green, isn't it?" Selphie responded. "So, we're going to drop in, meet up with a couple of people from Trabia Garden, and go into the woods and find this 'demon kid,' and figure out what's happened to the people out there."
"Hunting local legends in the forests," Zell muttered. "Sounds like a bad ghost story."
"Could be worse," Irvine added. "Might involve an old castle and a cackling witch."
"At least there's no Sorceresses involved," Selphie said. "And I'll get to see home again, too!"
"Big plus there," Irvine added. "Heard Trabia Garden's coming along pretty nicely these days. All the damage was repaired two years ago, and they've got this big influx of Estharian cadets, too."
"Too many," Selphie stated with a nod. "They've got far too many students to handle, and Trabia's too small."
"Yeah, I heard there was some planning in the big offices," Mike said. "Something about opening a new Garden in Esthar. I'd like to see that, with all that crazy Estharian technology and what have you. Speaking of which . . . ." Mike trailed off as the Ragnarok neared the Estharian coast, flying over what looked like a military base.
It wasn't, actually, but the sheer amount of personnel and military hardware around the train station on the western coast of Esthar was formidable and could deter a mid-sized military attack. No fewer than three full squadrons of sleek Estharian fighters flew overhead, and a pair of crimson-colored Ragnarok-class assault ships were parked around a train station that was newly built and waiting for passengers. The Ragnarok swept in, and immediately the Garden ship receiving landing coordinates direct from Estharian Air Control. Mike skillfully brought the Ragnarok around to the cleared area indicate don his map, and settled the airship in. The Ragnarok touched down without even a shudder of movement, and Mike lowered the ramp.
"Alrighty, Zell," he said, and the brawler nodded, hopping up onto his feet. "See ya in Fisherman's!"
"I'll be there, don't worry!" Zell stated, and he turned to his friends. "Selphie, Irvine, take care, alright? Good luck, and make it home safe!"
"Bye, Zell!" Selphie said, waving as the brawler hopped onto the elevator and descended to the lower levels of the Ragnarok's hangars. He stepped off and moved toward the ramp leading outside, and was met by a pair of SeeDs, one carrying an assault rifle in his hands and the other with a sheathed katana resting on his shoulder.
"Ready to move?" asked the SeeD with the rifle, a newcomer to the organization named Argus. Zell nodded.
"Easiest escort mission ever," remarked Lex, the other SeeD, and they stepped down the ramp and into the middle of the heavily defended train station. Almost immediately, a pair of Estharian soldiers jogged up to them and called to the SeeDs.
"Zell Dincht?" one of them asked, and Zell nodded. The soldier gestured toward the larger train station, painted in typical Estharian pastel blues. "This way, sir! The President is waiting for you!" The SeeDs and soldiers moved across the open area, Zell pausing only to wave to Mike as the Ragnarok retracted its landing gear and rose again into the sky. As it flew away, Zell and his team stepped inside the train station, and were immediately stopped by a full platoon of Estharian soldiers.
"I'm sorry, sir, we'll need to perform an inspection and get your clearance and IDs," the officer heading the platoon said, and Zell frowned.
"We have clearance already," Zell stated. "We're SeeDs from Garden."
"Like I said, I'm sorry, but-"
"Lieutenant, relax," came a response from behind the soldiers, and they turned, backing up and allowing a long-haired, slender man with a thin face, bright green eyes, and a wide smile step through. "I know Zell personally!"
"Laguna!" Zell said with a smile, and reached forward to shake the President's hand, albeit gently.
"Come on, this way," Laguna said, and gestured behind him toward the terminal that led to the train they'd be using. "Sorry about security. They're being real serious about today. But I know I can trust you guys. You saved the world, didn't you?"
"Hey, its no problem," Zell replied with a shrug as they moved through the terminal. They passed what looked like an army of reporters and cameramen, being held back by dutiful Estharian soldiers, and neared the rear car of the train. The vehicle was designed much like the trains in the west, with engines in both the front and rear cars, and with cars for large numbers of people, cabins for privacy, and separate cars for the VIPs, though these were at the center of the train. Laguna led them onto the train, threading their way among rows of seats and through narrow hallways along the cabins of the train, toward the central VIP car. As they walked past Estharian aides and soldiers, Laguna explained things to them.
"Yeah, this train, newly built, huh?" he said. "Specially made for Presidential or VIP trips. Really well-armored. Kiros and Ward didn't like the idea of me using a train, but I gotta commemorate the reopening of the Horizon Bridge, right? Its gonna be huge, you know. This whole conference is going to fix everything, and we'll finally have peace-"
Laguna opened the door into the VIP car as he was talking, which revealed a large, long room with couches, plush carpets, and fold-down beds. The interior was painted with traditional Estharian pastels and festooned with a variety of Estharian technologies and gadgets, some of which even Zell didn't know the mechanics of.
However, the rich appointments were not what struck Zell as he walked in, but who was waiting for him. She had let her brown hair grow out, dropping down to her mid-back, and was wearing more traditional Estharian robes, but Zell still recognized her right off the bat.
"Hey, Ellone!" Zell said in surprise and happiness as he saw his old friend from the orphanage, sitting at one of the couches. She rose, laughing as she did so, and Zell pulled her into a big bear hug.
"Its good to see you," she said as she hugged him back. Zell actually lifted her up off the ground before setting her back to the floor.
"I didn't know you were riding with Laguna," Zell said, and she nodded.
"I wanted to come with him to the conference," she replied. "I was hoping I could see Squall and the others, too. I didn't know you were going to be SeeD's escort!"
"Well, hey, here I am," Zell replied with a grin. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "This is Lex and Argus. My backup."
"Pleased to meet you," she said to them, and the two SeeDs nodded.
"And while you guys are SeeD's support for this trip," Laguna added, stepping in beside them. "I picked up a couple of my own bodyguards." Laguna nodded toward the other end of the train car, and Zell was surprised to see who was standing there. One was huge and hulking, especially with the heavy armor he wore, and the other was slender and petite, with one eye covered by a decorative eye patch.
"Whoa! Fujin? Raijin?" he asked, and the brother-and-sister pair nodded at the same moment. Zell looked them over, surprised by their obvious changes in gear since he'd last seen them, during the invasion of the Lunatic Pandora years ago. Fujin still wore her traditional blue coat, dark pants, and boots, but beneath the coat, she wore what looked like a suit of body-adhering Estharian armor, judging by the silvery material that poked over her collar and around her wrists. She wore a trio of chakrams, bladed rings with elegant and deadly spikes on them, and on her back she wore a new weapon, a composite, molded longbow with Estharian technology worked into it. On her belt opposite her chakrams she wore two secured, covered pouches loaded with arrows, outfitted with feathers of varied colors.
Raijin, on the other hand, had fully equipped himself with Estharian powered armor, bulky insectile gear that covered his torso and legs, over which he wore his usual vest and big, beaded necklace. Aside from the heavy bo staff that was his normal weapon, Raijin wore a pair of heavy gauntlets, complete with knuckle-dusters. Zell seemed a bit surprised with this. Maybe Raijin had taken a lesson from the brawler, he thought with amusement.
"What are you guys doing here?" Zell asked, and Fujin nodded toward Laguna, who was talking with one of his aides.
"LISTEN," she advised him in her usual direct, loud, emphatic manner.
"Yeah," Raijin replied, nodding toward the President. "Laguna says we're his bodyguards, ya know, and he means it."
"When did you guys join up with Laguna?" Zell asked, and Raijin chuckled.
"Been with him for a bit, ya know," Raijin explained. "We were with Seifer for a while, freelance mercenary work and all that, but he disappeared a few months back, just after we got a contract with Laguna to be his bodyguards."
"WORRIED," Fujin added, but Raijin shook his head.
"I keep sayin' we shouldn't be worrying about Seifer," he boomed. "He can take care of himself, ya know." Fujin didn't immediately answer, and Zell could tell she was worried about Seifer . . . Though in all honesty Zell couldn't care less about that crazy bastard.
"Okay, people," Laguna cut in, turning back to the group. "We're about to get underway, so we should settle in. It'll be a few hours until we get to Fisherman's, so let's get comfy, eh?"
The guard on duty watched the last two Estharian technicians as they pushed a hovering crate into the main cargo bay of the Raptor, one of President Loire's two escort Ragnarok aircraft. They locked the hovering crate in place using a gravity tether, and one tapped a button on a gauntlet on his wrist. A holographic display popped up, and he hit one of the keys, setting the red symbol to green.
"Okay, that's the last one," he said, to his comrade, who nodded.
"Good job," added the soldier standing in the bay, nodding as he looked over the two dozen or so crates, labeled as weapons and supply containers. "With this stuff on board we can finally get moving."
"So, anyone say why they needed these containers?" asked one of the techs, and the soldier shrugged.
"Orders came from high up," commented the other tech. "But hey, if the boss says put the crates on the ship, put the crates on the ship. Does seem weird that they'd put transport crates on an escort ship, though."
"Yeah, I know," added the soldier. He pulled up a holographic display on one of the wall panels, and waved the two technicians over as the hangar doors slid shut. The Raptor's engines started up, and a low thrum filled the deck of the hangar as the ship lifted off. They felt a slight push backward as the aircraft began moving, and then stopped next to the soldier as he looked over the panel.
"I need you guys to help me check something real quick," the soldier said, looking at the panel intently.
"Yeah, what is it?" asked one of the two, and the soldier stepped back, gesturing toward the display.
"Have a look," he said, and the two men stepped forward as requested, and glanced over the display.
In that instant, the soldier who had asked them to look stepped around behind them and, unseen, drew a silenced pistol. He leveled it at the back of the right-hand man's head and fired, and before the left technician could even react, he took a bullet into the back of his head as well. Both soldiers toppled to the floor. Their murderer glanced down at the corpses casually, and pressed a hand to the side of his helmet.
"Simmons," he said coldly. "Hangar secured. Standing by to open the packages."
"Copy that," came the reply over his radio, a cool, feminine voice. "Execute the assault in in exactly twenty minutes from . . . now."
"Understood, Illarra," Simmons replied, and tapped a button on his wrist, activating the countdown clock. He walked over to the crates and tapped one.
"Stay hidden," he ordered over his radio. "We go in nineteen minutes."
There was no response, and none was needed. The cyborgs inside the crates knew their objective, and would carry it out with a ruthless efficiency that marked Esthar's special forces units. Simmons crossed the room and tapped the holographic panel again, switching to the view from the belly camera of the Raptor. Below, running smoothly along the tracks of the Horizon Bridge, was President Laguna Loire's train. Simmons grinned underneath his helmet and hid his weapon, before moving to hide the bodies. He would be ready when the time came.
In nineteen minutes, the first shots of the new world war would begin.
-
Hoo-rah! Settin' up to be a good ol' party tonight! A few notes to be made here:
Some references are in here. Notably the Hellsing/Castlevania reference with Alucard, and the Resident Evil 4 reference with the pilot named Mike. The Galbadian accent in this story is essentially a New York/New Jersey-style accent, and Mike in RE4 has one as well. Mike and Zell's SeeD companions will be more important than your normal everyday red-shirted crewman. There's a pile of Guilty Gear references, too.
Shout-out time! Review and ye shall be respondedinatizized!
DBZ Fanfiction Queen: Only in name, and maybe in abilities, but not precisely in personality. He's much more based off Slayer from Guilty Gear. He even has Slayer's moves!
Oh, and I'm not going to give any spoilers away about this story. Ultimecia will have an effect here, trust me.
Squall, Rinoa, and Seifer don't have middle names because I couldn't think of any that would work properly.
Jade Almasy: I could swear that they were gray. Hm. Maybe I need to go back and check . . . .
Kolostraminindincranin: Oh, yes, there are clues abounding! I might be interested in seeing your Baldur's Gate novelization.
Prodigy: I made up the dates myself, based off Centra established 4000 years previously and building off that as the important point in the calendar. And its Saturday and I see no new chapter. Hurry! Speaking of which, I need to review your work too.
E: Its not a crossover. The characters will have similar attributes in some cases to characters from other sources, most notably Guilty Gear, as well as personalities of such, but will be original characters for the most part.
Icedragon6171: I've planned this story out well, and I'm really excited to work on it!
Solid Shark: Hellsing and Castlevania, yep. :D
Rusty Knights Productions: Well, here's more. Enjoy!
Elachim: Yeah, my prologues are always long, you know? Oops, I need to change that.
S ranking is . . . Okay, the profiles were basically based off Guilty Gear XX's profiles in Story Mode, which included vital stats, a profile, and a threat assessment. The highest threats were names "S" rank (given to people like Sol, Slayer, Dizzy, etc)
Thanks for the grammar suggestions. I can always use them! And I have no trouble with what you did. I can't stop you, so why bother? Not that I mind anyway, myself. I like it when people do that kind of stuff. Let me clean out my inbox and I might take that edited copy!
BahamuUltima: Not a sequel to FFVIII, but definitely a sequel to Gunblade!
That everyone? Good. Now, back to work.
Till next chapter . . . .