Chapter 23: Briefing
It was the next morning, two days after the battle on the plains of Trabia, and Squall looked out over the briefing room. Unlike the conference room where they had met in yesterday, this chamber was a large amphitheater on the second floor of Balamb Garden. The three hundred seats stretching across the room were filled with soldiers, SeeDs, and officers, and many more were standing in the aisles or at the back of the chamber, straining to see Squall as he went over the basic battle strategy they had laid out.
"Intelligence indicates we're up against a force of roughly a hundred to a hundred and fifty thousand enemy infantry," Squall stated. As he spoke, the massive screen behind him displayed images of Balamb Island, along with overhead maps and reconnaissance photos. "Of that number, we estimate sixty thousand are on board the Flying Fortresses moored outside Balamb Harbor. The remainder are on the warships moving with the fleet.
"The basic strategy here is simple," Squall continued, and an arrow lanced out from Dollet, curving around the north side of Balamb Island and coming around tot he west. A second arrow split off from the first one and moved straight toward the island and the enemy positions.
"Balamb, Galbadia, and Trabia Gardens will swing to the north of Balamb Island and come around to the west, hitting the enemy forces from their backsides."
"Commander?" asked one of the SeeDs, and Squall nodded, letting him stand up. "Sir, how are we going to engage the enemy? The naval guns of those warships will rip our Gardens to pieces."
"That is where the second half of our attack will come from," Squall answered, highlighting the second arrow. "A substantial naval force of Dollet and Galbadian warships will sail with our fleet and assault the Estharians from the south. With any luck, they will draw out the armed enemy naval forces, leaving Balamb Island and the Estharian Flying Fortresses relatively unprotected. We sweep in behind them and launch a surprise attack.
"Due to recent reconstruction and renovations to all of our Gardens," Squall continued, "The carrying capacity of Balamb, Galbadia, and Trabia Gardens have been increased significantly. We can house a total of twelve thousand infantry on Galbadia Garden, ten thousand in Balamb Garden, and five thousand in Trabia. Current Garden manpower totals at roughly five thousand Galbadia Garden SeeDs, four thousand Balamb SeeDs, and somewhat less than a thousand Trabian SeeDs . . . although we have suffered losses in the recent battle outside Trabia Garden. All deployed SeeDs who can be readily recalled are being brought back now, so we should have about nine to ten thousand total in SeeD forces. The remainder of our forces will be made up of Galbadian and Dollet infantry.
"The tactics regarding the actual attack are somewhat complex," Squall continued. "Galbadia Garden has been retrofitted with two-dozen Anvil-III Galbadian anti-ship missile launchers. When we engage the enemy, Galbadia Garden will sail alongside and slightly ahead of Balamb Garden. Trabia Garden will sail directly behind Balamb Garden. When we near the enemy, Galbadia Garden will intercept any forces the enemy directs at Balamb Garden itself, utilizing its anti-ship missiles and sheer size and manpower to ward off any attacks directed at Balamb Garden. Balamb Garden itself will move in and launch a direct attack on the Fortress that President Crell Varines will be utilizing as his command ship. Trabia Garden will provide heavy fire support in the form of magic users, summoned Guardian Forces . . . and Sorceress Rinoa."
Four hours ago . . . .
"Are you ready for this?" Squall asked quietly. He watched Rinoa intently with his eyeless gaze, the bandages obscuring his livid scars as Rinoa calmly checked her crossbow, inspecting the weapon with all the care of a professional, experienced SeeD. She nodded, as he sat down in a chair across from her.
"Of course I am," she replied. She looked up at him, frowning. "I've already fought through two battles in this war as it is. And before that we fought at Centra, remember?" She leaned forward, touching Squall's bandages with a finger, expression shifting to a tender image. "But I need to know if . . . if you're ready for this yourself."
Squall was silent for a moment, but then reached up and took her hand, squeezing it for a moment before letting it go.
"I can handle my part of this battle," he answered with all seriousness. "No enemy could touch me before. Now, I'm almost invincible." Rinoa listened to those words, and knew simply from Squall's tone that he wasn't boasting or even stating that out of overconfidence. He was speaking the cold, hard truth.
Anyone who went up against Squall was going to die.
"If you say so," she replied quietly, smiling. Her hand dropped, running down the side of his face and through his short beard. "But . . . you're not telling me everything. There's something wrong . . . something that's been wrong since last night. What is it?"
"Even without my eyes you can read me like an open book," Squall whispered, laughing quietly. After a moment, he shook his head. "It's . . . it's Griever."
"What about him?" Rinoa asked, looking over Squall's body as if searching for the entity that pulsed through his veins.
"He's not what you'd expect," Squall continued. "Even after the battle with Ultimecia, I was thinking that she had done something to corrupt him, to make him evil. I always held this image of him being noble and powerful, but he's nothing like that." The SeeD Commander touched his chest, his face tightening. "Griever . . . he exists to hurt and cause suffering. He's a sadistic monster. Hyne lives to destroy, Alucard lives to maintain existence . . . and Griever lives to cause pain."
Rinoa listened intently, and as he spoke, she put her hands on his shoulders, staring into his bandaged, eye-less face.
"Squall . . . ."
"He's spoken to me," he continued. "And what he's saying . . . it terrifies me." He reached up to where his left eye had been, touching the scarred wound delicately, wincing in remembered pain. "This eye . . . he took it from me. He can take over my body, or at least he can for a brief moment. He hasn't made me do anything with it yet, except to make me lose this eye . . . but I'm terrified of what he might be able to do now."
"Do you . . . think he can turn you on your friends?" Rinoa asked. "On us?"
"Yes," Squall answered without hesitation. As he spoke, Squall leaned back, breaking free of Rinoa for a moment. He stared at her with his white gauze of a gaze, and shook his head again.
"When we go to fight Crell," he stated after a moment. "I . . . I don't want you near me. I don't want him to try to take over me and hurt anyone I . . . anyone I love. That's why-"
"That's why you chose this plan," Rinoa asked, and Squall nodded.
"The only way I can ensure that Griever won't hurt my comrades . . . is if I surround myself with the enemy."
"The three Gardens," Squall continued with the briefing, "Will be commanded by specific SeeD officers. SeeD has had the most experience operating with and fighting with craft the size and design of Garden, so we know how to put them to best use. Trabia Garden will be commanded by Xu, one of our most experienced SeeD officers. Balamb Garden will be commanded by Quistis Trepe."
"Sir?" asked one of the SeeDs, as a ripple of surprise went through the group of officers at the fact that Squall would not be commanding Balamb Garden. Squall nodded to the speaking SeeD.
"Why are you not commanding Balamb Garden?"
"That is an aspect of the plan I will discuss later," Squall continued. "Suffice it to say, Quistis Trepe is one of the best officers we have, and the one I most completely trust to carry out the command of this Garden during this battle."
Three hours ago . . . .
Three glowing red orbs arced in front of her, flashing and cutting rapidly back and forth. They moved with dizzying speed, whirling and spinning around in a random series of wildly varying trajectories, in patterns that would be almost impossible for anyone to hit.
Quistis' chain, however, snapped out with unerring precision and speared one of the orbs, causing the hologram to flash blue and then disappear. She whipped around, the rante in her hand striking the next orb dead center as it went through a complex pattern of spins, loops, and radical directional changes. Her wrist flicked, and with that simple casual motion, the rante's blade head went flying across, arcing into and through the last orb as it cut across in front of her.
There was a faint tone, and the SeeD relaxed as the training program ended. The dimmed lights of the holographic chamber rose, illuminating the walls of the square room, one of a quartet that Garden had added over the last few years. She shook her head as she snapped the whip back, easily catching the blade head and looping the weapon around her arm.
That was one of the highest-level training exercises. Three weeks ago it took me five minutes to hit all the targets, but today I finished in under thirty seconds . . . .
Quistis attached the rante to her belt and turned away from the center of the room, heading for the entrance. however, as she came around, she spotted a familiar figure standing at the entrance to the chamber, leaning on the doorjamb, smoke emanating from his pipe.
"Alucard," Quistis said, and the Guardian nodded, smiling slightly as a cloud of harmless smoke wafted past his face.
"I heard about the battle plan," the Guardian stated, and Quistis nodded. "And I agree with the Commander on his choice for the command of Balamb Garden."
She blinked at the praise. To hear something like that from an ordinary soldier or SeeD was one thing; for the Guardian of Existence himself to say it was something completely different.
"Thank you," she offered, and Alucard nodded again. Quistis moved toward the door, and raised an eyebrow at the Guardian, who simply stood up straight, accepting the unspoken invitation to walk with her. They moved out into the corridor, which was filled with SeeDs, soldiers, and cadets hurrying about their tasks as they prepared the Garden for combat.
"Will you be fighting with us?" Quistis asked hopefully, remembering Alucard's intense show of power during the battle in Trabia. The Guardian sighed sadly.
"Unfortunately, my dear, I must say no," he replied. "There are . . . other matters at hand."
"Such as?" Quistis asked, not hiding her disappointment.
"Hyne's overall scheme is greater than just this battle," Alucard continued. "What she intends to do extends beyond a simple war . . . but her precise plan is still a mystery to me. I need to know what it is so we can take the appropriate course of action to stop her."
"Where will you be going?" she asked, and the Guardian shrugged.
"I need to speak with a friend of mine, Ramuh," he explained. "Guardian of Storms. We have been trying to figure out how to fight Hyne in this most recent upsurge of her power, but until we understand the basics of her plan . . . well, this war is fairly low priority." He paused, and glanced sidelong at Quistis, before affording her a slight smile. "And might I add, Quistis, your display back there was most impressive."
Quistis glanced down at her right arm, and flexed her muscles slightly, nodding. She could feel the strength running through her arms and veins now, greater strength than what even a Guardian Force junction could give to her.
"Ever since the battle with Hyne, I feel so much stronger," she replied. "My mind works faster, I can see things more clearly, my muscles are more powerful . . . ."
"I had to go to great lengths to save you," Alucard stated quietly. "My own energies were needed to keep you alive." he paused, coming to a stop, and so did Quistis. He reached out and placed a hand on her bare shoulder. "Some of the very energy of existence itself runs through your body. What effect this may have on you, I am unsure."
"You've never done it to anyone else before?" Quistis asked, and Alucard shook his head.
"No human has ever withstood a direct attack from Hyne like you did," he told her. "You were the first I could have saved from total annihilation at her hands . . . ." He stopped after a moment, and then shook his head. " am sorry, Quistis, but I need to leave now. I must meet with Ramuh, to see what he has learned in my absence."
The Guardian bowed toward her slightly at the waist, and then turned to leave.
"Wait!" Quistis said quickly, reaching up and grabbing his shoulder. Alucard turned around to face Quistis, eyebrow raised.
"Yes?" he asked. She stood there for a moment, not entirely certain of what to say. Finally, after three long, silent seconds of hesitation, she decided to not say anything, and instead stepped forward on impulse.
Alucard was exceptionally surprised when Quistis kissed him solidly on the lips, and then took a step back, her pale face slightly flushed from embarrassment. He blinked a couple of times, and finally, quietly, laughed, smiling.
"I suppose that's a good way to say 'thank you,'" he mused, and she nodded again.
"Yes," she replied after a second. "I, uh, couldn't think of anything else to say."
"Actions speak louder than words, Quistis," he stated, and then bowed again, this time more deeply. "Please . . . keep yourself alive through all of this."
"I will," she promised Alucard, and with another smile, the Guardian of Existence turned and vanished into thin air.
"Galbadia Garden's commander has been specially chosen for his role," Squall continued. "The job of controlling this Garden must fall to someone aggressive and fearless, and to one who has specifically commanded this Garden in war before. I have my implicit trust in him, despite his . . . checkered history.
"The command of Galbadia Garden has been entrusted to Seifer Almasy."
One hour ago . . . .
He was leaning against one of the bookcases in the library, casually paging through the latest issue of Weapons Monthly. Freshly shaved and hair cut back, Seifer Almasy almost looked exactly like he had before he had started down that fateful road that made him Garden's enemy. None of the cadets or SeeDs in the library were nearby; those who had been around during the war were nervous around him, and those who had joined after the war were a bit awed by the legendary cadet who some said could stand even against Squall himself.
His coat and other clothes were being cleaned, so he had instead scrounged up a simple white shirt and some dark brown trousers. He almost looked respectable, which was a notion that, at some basic level, kind of irked him.
He heard movement on the other side of the bookcase he was leaning against and looked up, in time to see Rinoa round the corner, Squall right behind her. She glanced at Seifer, who gave her a short nod as way of greeting, and then looked away. She followed his gaze, to see him checking on the girl sitting at one of the Garden data terminals. Serra was gazing into the computer screen, reading articles from the Garden mainframe. She was clad in a spare female cadet uniform, though unlike the ones they'd been using a few years ago, these now had trousers, a change Squall had implemented early into his career as Commander.
"How is she?" Rinoa asked, and Seifer shrugged.
"She's been reading for about four hours straight," he replied, glancing back at his magazine. "Its amazing. She can read a full page in under twenty seconds. I think she's burned through about a quarter of Garden's encyclopedia already. She's absorbing information like a dry sponge."
"I'm guessing she doesn't know the truth," Squall murmured, and Seifer nodded.
"She hasn't hinted anything about it to me," he added. "After she woke up in the infirmary this morning, she asked if we had any books she could read. I got her some clothes and brought her in here, and I think she almost died of joy."
Squall nodded, and he and Rinoa shared a quick glance. It was almost unnerving, seeing his bandaged, blind visage meeting Rinoa's as if he still had them . Seifer wasn't sure precisely how Squall was still able to see without his eyes, but he figured of the Commander could see, then it was all the better.
"Just a second," Rinoa told them, and broke away from the two men, starting toward Serra. "I want to speak with her." Seifer and Squall nodded as Rinoa moved toward her daughter. After a second, Seifer turned toward Squall, scowling.
"I don't like this plan," he muttered, and Squall nodded calmly, turning his bandaged face toward Seifer, seeing his clear unhappiness.
"I know," he replied. "I don't either, but I think this is the only way it might work."
"You want to put her in combat," Seifer muttered, shaking his head. "She's not a fighter! She's just a child!"
"And she's also the only way to prevent massive casualties among your own men," Squall stated. "Galbadia Garden is going to have twelve thousand soldiers on board, and most of them are Galbadia Garden SeeDs, Dollet troops, or Galbadian soldiers. Very few of whom use junctions." Squall sighed and shook his head. "If they encounter even a few companies of Crell's Elementals . . . ."
"I know," Seifer hissed, clenching his free hand as his other clutched the magazine tightly. "Hell, I'm not even sure of a Balamb SeeD would match up even against those Elementals, much less Dollet or Galbadian infantry. But to put Serra on the front line . . . ."
"You know what Nash said," Squall stated. "Serra both absorbs magic and can sap the power directly from a normal Elemental's body by simply being near them. If she's on Galbadia Garden, it'll even the fight."
"Yeah, and not many of the troops there use much magic anyway," Seifer added, nodding. "But even so, Squall . . .she's not ready for a battle quite like this one. She's a child, dammit!"
"That's what I wanted to speak with you about," Squall replied coolly. "I don't want her fighting on the front lines, but I know that when the enemy hits your Garden, the shit will be hitting the fan. I want you to pick out a special team of SeeDs to be her bodyguards. A small squad to keep her safe and away from the engagement."
Seifer stared at Squall for a moment, and then nodded.
"I get to pick whoever?" he asked, and Squall nodded.
"Preferably SeeDs specializing in physical combat," he answered, and Seifer snickered.
"That's a given, Squall," he replied. "I'll get a decent team together, though I'd need access to personnel records."
"Naturally," Squall replied. "Galbadia Garden's defense and combat organization has already been set up, so you won't need to worry about organizing the troops. I've already got a candidate in mind to command the troops locally so you can focus on the larger battle."
"Where's the fun in being the armchair general?" Seifer snorted. He glanced back at Serra, who was talking quietly with Rinoa. He watched the pair for a moment, noting Rinoa's warm, friendly approach, compared with the more hesitant and subdued Serra. She obviously had not had a lot of contact with humans before . . . .
"Are you guys going to tell her?" Seifer asked, and Squall shook his head.
"Not yet. I want to wait until we're past this before dropping that bomb," he stated quietly. "We're still not sure how we'd explain it, or even if she'd understand at first."
"You got any idea how . . . you know, how it happened?" Seifer asked.
"Hyne," Squall snarled.
"Heh," Seifer muttered, snickering again. "Yeah, she seems to have a hand in every cluster-fuck nowadays, huh?" He paused for a second. "So, how was she involved?"
"Nash and Odine explained that they received a stillborn infant with nearly perfect genetic structure as the initial template for the Prototype," Squall said. "Our daughter. Serra. Hyne was the one who gave her to them."
"So, Hyne basically snatched the baby's body after it died?" Seifer muttered, shaking his head. "Man, I know she's an evil bitch, but grave-robbing is just nasty."
"They revived her, and the Elemental process was performed on her body. The Elemental powers and changes accelerated her growth rate. She's twenty years, physically and mentally, but she's got all the experiences of a three-year old."
"A walking bundle of pure innocence," Seifer added. "Damn. I wish we didn't need her for this . . . ."
"You and me both, Seifer," Squall whispered. The ex-cadet looked at Squall again, and noted the tautness of his features as he stared with his eyeless gaze at where Serra was sitting. It took Seifer a moment to understand; Squall knew the gravity of the situation. he knew what he was doing.
Shit. He's sending his own daughter into combat. What does that do to a man, to put his own innocent child into combat against overwhelming enemy forces? Squall would never do this willingly . . . .
"Ultimately," Squall whispered, "there is one question we need to ask her. I'm not going to put her into combat unwillingly. Everyone who is going into this battle is a volunteer."
He broke away from the bookcase and walked across the room to where Serra was sitting. The girl had started to warm up to Rinoa as they had been speaking, and was talking a little bit more, even smiling. She obviously wasn't nervous about talking as much as she was before. As Squall, with Seifer right behind him, drew close to the pair, Serra looked up over her shoulder.
"Hello," she said quietly as a greeting, smiling courteously. Squall nodded, a slight smile cutting across his features as well, what Rinoa called his "friendly" face. For Squall, a slight, almost imperceptible smile was being friendly.
"Serra and I were talking about what she's been studying," Rinoa added, sitting next to the girl in another chair. Serra herself nodded quickly.
"I'm trying to read as much as I can," she explained. "I want to see everything in this library before the battle begins."
"You know about the battle that's coming up?" Squall asked, and she nodded, her expression shifting to a slightly apprehensive one.
"I overheard everyone talking about the war with Esthar," she explained. "The odds are against us for winning, and things look kind of bleak." Squall, Rinoa, and Seifer were a bit surprised to hear her use the term "us" in regards to Garden, but they covered it up well.
"That was what I wanted to talk about, Serra," Squall asked. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to Serra, looking her dead in the eyes with his bandaged face. "The odds are against us, I'm not lying. We expect casualties in the upcoming battle . . . and I want to know if you'd be willing to fight with us."
Serra's eyes widened slightly, and she looked back and forth to Rinoa, Seifer, and Squall. She seemed to consider the question for a several seconds.
"I'm not going to ask you to fight for us," Squall continued. "Garden is all-volunteer. You don't have to fight for us if you don't want to. If you-"
"Yes," she said suddenly, surprising Squall. If he had eyes, he would have blinked in shock.
"You will?" he asked, and she nodded.
"Everyone here has been very nice to me, and Irvine and Selphie came after me and tried to help save me," she explained. "That and . . ." she glanced at Seifer. "Seifer's going to be there. I . . . I think I want to pay him back for what he did in the prison."
"Are you sure?" Rinoa asked. "This battle is going to be nasty."
"Of course I'm sure," Serra answered, nodding firmly. All three of them caught something in her eyes as she spoke, a flash of strength and determination, something she had picked up from both her parents. "If I can protect my friends and Garden . . . I will."
"Thank you," Squall whispered, and she nodded. He slowly stood up. "If you have any second thoughts-"
"I won't. You can trust me. I'll fight with you no matter what it takes . . . even if I might not have full control over myself just yet." Seifer winced, rubbing his chest where Diablos had started tearing into him with his shadow magic.
"Well," Rinoa added, "Your powers are a lot like a Sorceress'. Maybe I can show you some techniques to utilize them and control them. We . . . well, we haven't seen you use them yourself just yet."
"You'll help me control them?" Serra asked, and Rinoa nodded.
"As much as I can teach you before the battle begins." She stood up, and Serra did so as well. "Come on, let's go to the training center. I can show you how to use your powers there."
"While Almasy will be in command of the Garden itself," Squall stated, "The large number of primarily Galbadian and Dollet soldiers will demand the leadership of someone with extensive experience in commanding large numbers of troops. Therefore, I have chosen Dollet General Randolph of the Dollet 125th Infantry Battalion to lead the soldiers who will be fighting on Galbadia Garden."
Three hours later . . . .
Seifer grunted and shook his head as he put the tattered gray-white coat back on. The Garden cleaners had managed to get the bloodstains out of it, but the battered coat would likely never get all the dirt and grime free. Still, it felt good to put on some clean clothes for once.
It also felt good to have a decent shirt on, and the short, basic black one he wore was covered by a full suit of ash-black torso armor. Additional ceramic plates and pads were strapped to his arms, forearms, shoulders, thighs, and lower legs, hidden beneath his trousers and coat. Wouldn't do to go into battle unprepared, and he wanted to get used to wearing armor again.
The ex-cadet sat in the room he had temporarily been given, sharpening his saber, the crafted blade having worked well in Hyperion's absence. The broken gunblade had been discarded, Seifer throwing it aside just as he had cast aside his ambitious dreams. Until he had atoned, Seifer had vowed, he was not worthy of possessing Hyperion once again.
There was a knock on his door, and the ex-cadet looked up.
"Open," he grunted, and the door swung out wide, revealing, to his surprise, the blonde-haired Dollet officer, Randolph, clad in battle fatigues and apparently equipped for war at a moment's notice. The man carried a long case with him.
"May I enter?" he asked, and Seifer nodded.
"Pull up a seat," he offered, and Randolph did so, setting the case on a table. Seifer regarded the officer for a moment, and then grinned.
"So, since we're working together on the Galbadia Garden angle, you want to talk?" Randolph nodded.
"Yes, indeed," he replied. "You were a good commander during the war between Galbadia and Garden."
"And you had some balls yourself," Seifer added, and Randolph smiled slightly at the compliment. "Not like some Dollet punks. You know, like my father."
"Yes, your father," Randolph added, nodding. "It was a sad thing when he was lost."
"You knew him?" Seifer asked, sitting forward.
"Fairly well," Randolph replied. "He was deployed on a ship against Esthar, but in a naval battle, his ship was sunk and he was captured. I suppose capture by Esthar under Adel more or less counts as 'killed in action.' You'd might as well be dead if she had you prisoner."
"I heard the stories," Seifer replied, putting his sharpened saber into its sheath. "So, what was he like?"
"Regretful," Randolph continued. "He was always regretful that he had been sent out to fight. Not afraid, but rather, he wanted to go home. Before he had deployed, the night before he had left, he encountered your mother. It was the usual deal, you understand; a young soldier about to go to war, never having been with a woman before, and a young prostitute needing money. But, after it was over, your father . . . he spoke with her, and he realized that people like your mother were half the reason he was fighting. He wanted to save people, to bring the downtrodden out of poverty, to defend the weak against the ravages of evil. He fell in love with her, and when he went to war, he promised her, and himself, that he would return someday, to bring her out of her despair."
Seifer listened to the story for a while, silently, reflecting on the words of the officer as he had stared out the window, retelling the tale of his father.
"Wow," Seifer whispered. "I . . . I always assumed my father wasn't that type, that he just paid my mother for a quick fuck before going to fight. I never thought he . . . ."
"It was a long time before he returned, but by then, your mother had died of a disease she picked up during the plague shortly after Deling took over Timber," Randolph continued. "He was heartbroken, and he returned to the military, never knowing anything about you, until he checked into some records after the last war."
"You mean," Seifer said, looking back at Randolph, surprised. "My father is . . . alive?"
"Yes, he is," Randolph continued. He patted the case. "And . . . this is something he wanted to give to you. Unfortunately, he's been deployed elsewhere, so he asked me to give this to you at the first opportunity I could find."
Seifer looked over the case again, and then flipped open the catches, opening the lid. he stared down at the object inside, and then back at Randolph.
"How did he know?" Seifer asked, and Randolph smiled, standing up.
"He has his sources," the Dollet officer replied, and then turned around, leaving Seifer's room and the ex-cadet to his thoughts and memories.
After several moments, Seifer reached into the case and extracted the object, holding it up to the light. The grip was as solid as he remembered, and the weight was perfectly balanced. It was almost like meeting an old friend once again.
Hyperion. Am I worthy to use you again? Have atoned for my sins? Have I paid back for the crimes I committed while using this weapon?
Seifer looked to his saber, in its sheath, and then at the reforged gunblade in his hand, and smiled.
"We'll see," he whispered.
"Commander?" asked a Galbadian officer, and Squall nodded. The man stood.
"Commander, with the Estharian fleet engaging our forces to the south of Balamb Island, the Estharians will be on alert. They may very well have air support flying close air patrol around our targets. How will we be countering this?"
"Dollet and Galbadia will be proving air support with fighter-bombers, which will deploy from forward airbases inside Dollet shortly after we leave. They will fly close to the ocean surface north of the island to avoid detection by Estharian sensors. When we launch our attack, they will cut south over the mountains and launch an aerial assault on enemy ground emplacements, destroying any grounded aircraft and engaging airborne Estharian threats. We also have the assistance of two wings of defectors from the Estharian air fleet, led by the best of Esthar's fighter corps, Raptor Squadron.
"The actual air wing we have flying in this battle will be led by Garden's own airship, the Ragnarok, which will be flown by Selphie Tilmitt."
Two hours later . . . .
"So, what next?" Irvine asked staring up at the clear afternoon sky over Dollet. He was laying on his back, hat being used as a cushion to keep his long brown hair from falling into the sand on Lapin Beach. Clouds drifted past the sharpshooter's line of sight as he relaxed, for what was likely the first time he'd gotten a moment to rest since they'd returned from the ordeal at Iceblood prison.
"How 'bout . . . nothing?" Selphie asked, laying on the beach beside him, head right next to Irvine's, though her body was pointed in the opposite direction, so her eyes were near his chin, and vice versa for Irvine.
"Nothing sounds real good," he said with a chuckle.
"Heard they're almost finished tooling up Ragnarok," Selphie added. "Good thing Mike didn't screw it up too badly."
Irvine turned his head toward Selphie, his nose brushing her slightly chilled cheek. The tiny SeeD was very protective of the airship, which she had virtually taken absolute control of. At least Mike was halfway equal to her piloting skill, which had impressed Selphie enough to let the SeeD pilot fly her ship while she was deployed on missions.
"Hopefully the new add-ons you ordered will be done soon," Irvine said, and she nodded, looking to him. He caught an adorably diabolical smile and look in her green eyes as she thought of the new armaments being fitted into her personal flying death machine.
"Cluster bombs, anti-ship torpedoes, and four 220mm lock-on missile pods," she said, entirely unable to hide her glee.
"Heard the mechanics were going to give it a new nickname," Irvine added, and she nodded.
"Yeah, they couldn't come up with anything good," she said, shrugging. "'Death from Above' and 'Hell's Personal Ass-Kicker' just don't have the right ring to them. That's why I gave them a new nickname for it."
Indeed, she had. That was why the Garden mechanics were writing in large, black, slashing letters tracing across the front fuselage, the new nickname for Selphie's personal killing platform: Genocide In A Can.
"Selphie, you're crazy," Irvine muttered, and she laughed again.
"That's why you love me, isn't it?"
"Oh, yes, indeed," Irvine added.
The pair looked at one another for a moment, and then, completely on impulse, Irvine leaned his head over slight and poked Selphie in the middle of her delicate nose with his tongue. She frowned as he did that, and then scowled.
"Don't do that again, Irvy," she warned in a mock-serious tone. The sharpshooter paused for a second, thinking about it, and then shot his tongue forward again, touching her nose a second time. This time, though, as he pulled back, he found his tongue stuck to her face. It took the sharpshooter a second to realize what she had done.
"Irvine, I have total control over cold magic, remember?" she asked in a playful voice, and the gunslinger moaned something as he tried valiantly to free his tongue from the nose Selphie had frozen it to.
"Thelthie, leth me gu!" he protested. She responded with mock-diabolical laughter.
"I've also finished some last-minute personnel assignments," Squall continued. "Officers, be sure to double-check check your rosters. Also, make sure that your troops have taken care of personal business. Since we launch the attack at daybreak tomorrow, all troops and support personnel are getting leave for the evening. I'd strongly suggest that all of you avoid partying too hard; we'll need to be rested and alert in the morning."
Twelve hours later . . . .
The corridors of Balamb Garden were darkened slightly, appropriate enough for nighttime. The Garden was not exceptionally quiet at this late hour; there was a party going on in the cafeteria and Quad, an impromptu celebration that had been thrown almost spontaneously, starting with Seifer, Fujin, and Raijin and then steadily growing.
Zell walked down the corridor in Balamb Garden's residential complex, the subdued lights making the passage seem smaller and more intimate. It was sort of appropriate, he mused, as he neared his door and turned around, scratching the back of his head in anxiety. Sure, he had been out to parties before . . . .
"That was fun, Zell," Ellone remarked, smiling at the brawler from beside him as he stood by his door.
. . . . but he hadn't actually been on a real date before.
Granted, there hasn't been much time for, y'know, dating, Zell thought to himself. Wartime tends to get in the way of all that. Though Squall and Rinoa didn't have much trouble, and neither did Irvine and Selphie . . . .
"Yeah," Zell laughed, remembering the party. Hell, half the Garden and what seemed like three battalions of soldiers had turned out for it. Ellone watched him for a second, and then giggled. She immediately tried to suppress it, but Zell caught the slight laughter she was making. ". . . .what?"
"You're acting a lot like Uncle Laguna," she explained, and Zell blinked before realizing Ellone was right. Heck, even down to the scratching of his head . . . .
"Whoops," the brawler muttered. Both of them cracked up for a second, Zell letting some of his lingering anxiety fade. It wasn't but a few days ago that he had pulled Ellone from the hands of that sick bastard in the heart of the Estharian base, and here they were just getting back from a party which, for all intents and purposes, had been a date for the two of them.
"It is getting late," she said after a moment. "I need to head back. Squall and Laguna had arranged for me to have a hotel in the city to stay at for the night . . . ."
"Yeah, you should go," Zell replied, glancing at his watch. he blinked, surprised. It was still ten hours until daybreak? It felt later than it should have.
Ellone nodded, but she seemed to hesitate. Zell felt like saying something at that moment, but was unsure about exactly what to tell her.
Irvine said that girls love the whole "tomorrow I may die" speech if you're going to war, but I don't like it. It feels too cheesy right now.
"Look, uh," Zell began to say, and hesitated before continuing. "If things go bad tomorrow . . . well, it'll be real bad for Dollet and Galbadia if we lose. If you hear any bad news, you get out of Dollet, okay? Crell's going to be after anyone who can prove Laguna is alive." Ellone listened for a moment, and then nodded slightly. She seemed concerned for a moment as he spoke, but when Zell finished, she finally smiled.
"But, Zell," she replied. "I know I won't have to worry about my safety."
"Why?"
"Because you're going to kick that traitor's ass!" Her response caught Zell completely off guard, and he couldn't help but laugh at her confidence and trust in him.
"Thank you," he said to her, and she nodded. He reached up and put his right hand on Ellone's shoulder, and shook her slightly. "You take care of yourself, okay?"
"You too, Zell," she replied. "And punch one of them for me."
"Sure thing!"
Zell pushed the door to his quarters open with his left hand, and glanced back at Ellone.
" . . . good night," he said, sadly. He definitely didn't want her to go now, but he needed to rest up and gear up for the attack.
"Good night," she whispered back. He started to pull his right hand away from her shoulder. It dropped down, and suddenly stopped as she caught his fingers. Reflexively, he squeezed slightly, and so did she, stopping their hands from pulling apart.
Zell looked down a her hand and her delicate fingers clasping his rough, calloused one, and then back at her. Ellone mimicked the motion; she, too, was surprised that he had deliberately held on. They watched each other for a second, and both of them read the same thought in each others' eyes.
Who are we kidding?
Several seconds passed in that hallway, which felt almost like an eternity to the pair.
"You want to come in?" Zell asked quietly, and after a second, Ellone nodded.
After all, there were still ten hours until daybreak.
"Sir," cut in another SeeD, and, Squall nodded to the man, allowing him to stand. "Sir, even with these tactics and this strategy, we're up against an enemy several times our size. The odds are definitely not stacked in our favor, and the only hope we have of winning this is if we take down Crell himself in his own Fortress. Even then we might not stop the Estharian assault. This seems almost as suicidal as the Battle of Centra. Sir . . . I'm assuming you're aware of this?"
"Yes," Squall replied, nodding. "I know that we are currently engaged in a war with an enemy who has many tremendous advantages against our own forces. Esthar has superior technology and manpower, and I have no doubts that we would lose in a direct battle of might, even with all three of our militaries combined together. However, the only reason Esthar is involved is because Crell Varines has manipulated his people into supporting this war."
Squall straightened, and stood tall behind his podium.
"That is why I have formed a specialized strike team, who will infiltrate Crell's Fortress during the course of the main assault, codenamed Team Dagger. The primary purpose of Dagger is to end this war by exposing Crell's treachery and deceit to the Estharian people. Team Dagger consists exclusively of a five-man team with specific tasks. The first element of the team is codenamed Truth, and it will consist of Laguna Loire, and his two bodyguards."
Four hours later . . . .
"Wow," Seifer remarked as he sat back in the cafeteria, propping his legs up on the table. "So, you guys got to be Laguna Loire's personal bodyguards?"
"Yeah, man!" Raijin replied grinning. The huge muscle-bound warrior sat back in his chair, smiling like a fool, while Fujin sat up straight, all business as usual. "Hard to believe we'd get a gig like that, but Laguna must have gotten some good references, ya know?"
"YOU?" Fujin asked Seifer, who blinked, and then shrugged.
"I had to get away from things for a while," he replied. "Y'know, think about my past, wonder what I could have done better, come to grips with my faults and failures, all that boring bullshit a writer would like to glaze over sometimes for his characters." The ex-cadet glanced down at his waist, where the reforged Hyperion was sheathed. "I guess I'm past that stage now. Now its time to kick ass. And there's no one I'd rather kick ass with than you two."
"Hell yeah!" Raijin said with a laugh, and Fujin nodded, smiling slightly.
"AGREED."
"And yeah, I know the plan," Seifer added. "So, you two are going to be keeping Laguna safe while he basically saves the world?" Fujin nodded again.
"AFFIRMATIVE!"
"Oh, yeah, ya know," Raijin added. "Won't be that hard, though with all the ruckus that'll be going on, ya know."
"Well, I'll rest easy knowing you two are keeping our ticket to winning this war safe and sound." He sat forward, grinning. "Now, under ordinary circumstances, meeting back up with some great friends like you guys, I'd say the three of us go out somewhere and get shit-faced drunk and have a helluva party. But I really don't want to fight on a hangover." Raijin and Fujin nodded.
"BUT," she said.
"We can have some fun before we go to war tomorrow, ya know!" Raijin added, and Seifer nodded, bringing his feet off the table and slamming his boots into the floor with a resounding thud.
"Let's get this party started," Seifer said, shooting to his feet. "Come on guys!"
"The second element of the strike team will consist of myself and one additional volunteer, and the element is codenamed Deception. Deception's job is to get inside that Fortress and draw all attention from Truth while they prepare to expose Crell's treachery. We will do this by causing as much destruction as possible."
"A volunteer?" someone asked, and Squall nodded.
"The volunteer is not going to be named, but suffice it to say, between the two of us, we are quite capable of causing the necessary chaos and destruction we'll need to keep Truth safe."
Twohours ago . . . .
"You and me, huh?" Nash asked. He was sitting on one of the cliffs overlooking the ocean around Lapin Bay, the central bay area of Dollet, where the three Gardens were moored. It had taken Squall the better part of an hour to hike his way up there to meet with the other Elemental as he looked over the sea.
"Precisely," Squall answered, and Nash nodded, clenching his fist tightly. "Irvine and Selphie told me of what you did inside Iceblood. Someone like you is perfect for Deception."
"The two of us can wreak a lot of havoc," Nash commented, his clenched fist momentarily blazing with fiery energy before fading. The scientist looked back at Squall, and stared into a face so like his own . . . well, excepting the beard and the lack of eyes. He then looked away from Squall and back out to the ocean.
Squall looked down at the scientist's side, seeing a long bundle of thick cloth, roughly around the length of a rifle or sword. Nash kept fiddling with the bundle as he watched the ocean below.
"Hyne's going to be there, isn't she?" Nash hissed, almost in anticipation.
"Most likely, if she's backing Crell," Squall said, and the scientist nodded.
"Good."
"You have a grudge with her?" he asked, and Nash chuckled.
"One like you wouldn't believe," he answered. "To put in simple terms, she fucked me over. Really badly."
"I wouldn't be surprised," Squall replied. "She tends to do that to people."
"Yeah, but this case is a little bit different," Nash clarified. "I've been looking for her for a very long time. And when I find her . . . ." Flames ran down Nash's right arm, blazing with incredible intensity, rising up in color from yellow to white and then blue. It was as clear a definition of intent as Squall needed; the burning hatred within Nash rolled off of him like a raging inferno.
"The whole reason I joined that project was because I needed to get close to Crell to get at Hyne," he continued. "I did some unsavory shit, but now . . . I kind of regret what I've done. You, Selphie, your daughter . . . people who've needlessly suffered the 'fruits' of the Elemental Project. And I never even got near Hyne, either. All that work never even got me a glimpse of that bitch."
"You knew Serra was my daughter?" Squall asked, and Nash laughed.
"Of course," He replied. "Chimera genes are distinctive if you're looking for them."
"So, you know about the blood of the Chimera," Squall said, and Nash nodded.
"Its obvious, isn't it?" the scientist stated. "Why you, Crell, Illarra . . . and me, we all look alike?" Nash stood up, stretching his arms, and looked to Squall again. "We're all products of Centra's Chimera project."
"What's your story?" Squall asked, and Nash snorted.
"You heard Illarra's part, and so you should know quite a bit, but the whole story of the Chimera?" Nash shook his head, chuckling to himself. "Trust me, kid, its very long. Very involved. Not something to talk about right now."
"What do you know?" Squall asked, feeling suddenly irked by Nash calling him a "kid." Nash walked past Squall, scooping up the bundle and resting it on his shoulder.
"Too much to tell you now," he answered. He stopped and looked back at the SeeD Commander. "Tell you what. We get out of this alive, and I'll tell you everything. And I mean, everything."
"And that concludes the briefing," Squall finished. "Once again, each of you will receive specific assignments regarding your particular areas of responsibility. We set sail and attack at dawn." He looked across the chamber, and then nodded.
"Dismissed." The officers immediately stood and started conversing or filing out of the room to receive their assignments. Squall watched them leave silently.
And good luck, he thought. We're plunging headfirst into hell tomorrow. Long odds, powerful enemies, and success relying heavily on a small team of infiltrators.
"Nothing we haven't faced before," the SeeD Commander mused to himself as he walked off the stage. They were SeeD, after all; impossible was a routine occurrence.
They were up against a psychotic, megalomaniac of a dictator, a massive army including highly skilled and superhuman special forces, and the Guardian of the End, Hyne, herself.
Let's put an end to this, Squall thought. Its time for war, but this war is going to be SeeD-style. And a SeeD-style war is one we always win.
-
Phew. That one took a while, but I'm quite satisfied with it. I had to tie up some loose ends and cover everyone's development before the big battle begins! And next chapter, the shit will hit the fan. HARD.
ALL YOUR SHOUT OUT ARE BELONG TO PEPTUCK!
Wolf of Light: Griever, controlling Squall? Hm. I'm not saying anything!
Solid Shark: Oh, I don't know. I kind of like her, but I do think Illarra's time may almost be up...
And Nash...well, we'll see soon enough.
Chris Ganale: Well, comparatively speaking, Palpatine (according to Star Wars D20) is a level 16 Sith Lord/Level 4 Aristocrat (I think) and Yoda is a Level 20 Jedi. Since Revan can easily hit level 20 himself...yeah, Revan is a very powerful Jedi.
And yeah, there will be echoes of a certian major final battle next chapter...
DBZ Fanfiction Queen: Well, with all the massive hints I've been dropping all throughout this story... :P
Just to make things clear: Illarra does have Zanshin. Any Elemental who loses their eyes has Zanshin.
All questions will be answered in due time, I assure you. :P
JadeAlmasy: Yeah. Hurricanes. Ick. Hope you're alright.
JehutyRunner: To define this new level of badassness and hardcore, a new, stronger word must be made. Like, badasshardcore, or badcore.
Yes. Squall and Seifer will be badcore.
Daniel Wesley Rydell: Oh, certainly. Someone's getting their asses handed to them after Balamb.
Are we going to explode? I don't want to explode!
OniRazz: Hey, at least Squall still has his beard. :P Though he did get very badly pwned by Griever, yeah XD
Kimahrigirl: Yeah, sometimes I randomly think up ideas for how to present awkward scenes and run witht hem. Like this chapter; I couldn't figure out how I wanted the do both the briefing and all the other characters' side scenes, so I interwove them.
Icedragon6171: Yeah, I wondered how many people were going to catch that minor hint. And as for Crell's plan...you'll see.
Platonic1: Its a SUPER SECRET EVIL PLAN OF EVIL. :P
Seifer's dream regarding Serra took place much earlier in the story. And yes, that dream he had about the child with the wings was regarding Serra.
Blue: I love it when people make it easy for me to reply. Thanks!
Tain Shairi: Well, now you have a rough idea of how it happened. (Squall's conclusion ispretty much telling the truth...though Nash might know more...)
Nash, a time traveler? Nah. You expect me to spoil his story?
Kolostramin Indincranin: Rinoa isn't quite that powerful. Yeah, she's strong, but she doesn't have that level of range. She's a Sorceress, not artillery :P Not to mention that everyone who's worried about her power likely missed what happened to her right after she used her powers . . . .
Kaiser, el baka grande: Malachi is an ordinary Elemental soldier...he's just better than the rest by a great degree. He's not special beyond his exceptional skill. He doesn't have a GF infused in him.
And I've already given you your hint! no more for you until next chapter!
Spikestrife: Nash, the Chimera? Now that's a stretch. A big one.
But cliche is fun:P
Orestes666: Griever will mess with Squall. A whole lot, I assure you. :P
Shootski: You have mentioned I'm a genius before, I think. Still, continue mentioning it, it makes my giant ego even bigger! But seriously, thanks for the praise, man. I love you guys, every one of you!
That everyone? Spiffy.
Until next chapter!