Chapter 24: Legion
Dawn arrived upon the trio of arrayed Gardens, and it found Squall Leonhart ready for war. He stood on the bridge of Balamb Garden, staring out over the ocean toward the east, where the upcoming war awaited. What he hoped and prayed would be the final battle of this brief but intensely bloody war would soon be waged.
"This is it?" Laguna asked Squall as he stepped off the lift. The Commander nodded solemnly.
"We estimate we have about four hours of cruising time until we reach Balamb Island and sail around it, before hitting the enemy," he answered, and Laguna nodded to himself.
"I went ahead and had a chat with Kiros and Ward," he explained. "We've got a contingency plan in case anything goes wrong, though I hope we won't have to implement it."
Squall almost asked what the plan was, but then thought better of it. He didn't need to know right now, and he had to focus on the upcoming battle.
"Tactical," Squall called down toward the command area below. "Put all our data on the screen. Comms, contact Galbadia and Trabia Gardens, tell them to follow us. Nida . . . get us moving. Flank speed, along the route that's already been specified."
"Aye, Commander," Nida answered. He gently pushed the controls for the Garden forward, and the massive structure began to move out, the waters parting before Balamb garden as it drove against the ocean waters, like a mountain tearing itself free of the land that bound it. Behind the vast white monolith soon followed the bloody red shape Galbadia garden, and the smaller, snow-white specter of Trabia Garden, diving back into war once more. The combined vanguard of Garden, laden with well over twenty-five thousand men, struck out to sea at high speeds, launching into the oncoming teeth of yet another terrible battle.
"Send a message to all Garden forces," Squall stated calmly. "Tell them to go to full alert and prepare for combat. Its time to give Crell his fucking war."
The interior of Galbadia Garden was nearly complete chaos as twelve thousand SeeDs, Galbadian soldiers, and elite Dollet infantry scrambled to prepare for combat. The interior of the massive craft was filled with the din of low-key conversation, barked orders by officers, the clicking and cocking of rifles and machineguns being cleaned, checked, and loaded, and the scraping of soldiers applying last-minute sharpenings to their swords, bayonets, and other varied weapons. In the middle of it all, striding through the swirling morass of soldiers and SeeDs, was Seifer Almasy, fully armed and armored, his confident stride and wide grin dispelling any anxiety within the men around him as he inspected the troops.
"Gear up, people!" Seifer shouted over the intercom, through a microphone attached to his ear. "ETA to Balamb Island and the biggest ass-kicking of the century is less than four hours! Move, move!" He paused, glancing down at a datapad in his hand as he moved past a squad of Galbadian technicians loading ordnance into one of their war robots. Data, as the name implied, ran across the screen of the datapad as soldiers and officers sent new information and updates to the command center upstairs. Seifer saw some places needing reinforcements, especially along the upper floors, and reached up to his ear.
"Seventeenth Tactical Company, move to the second level and reinforce garrisons along Sectors Two through Five, we've got holes up there." Seifer frowned as Randolph's voice cut him off, from him giving the exact same order. He glanced at the pad again, and was about to speak once more, when Randolph cut in again. "Fourth Mechanized, get your units to the west Dorms complex, Area B. Stand by for further orders."
"Eh, screw it," Seifer muttered. That last one was a better decision than he would have made. Clearly the General was better at reallocating resources than Seifer. Let him make the tactical decisions. Seifer would take command at the front line and show these Estharian shits just what he was capable of. There was a reason why Crell had wanted him executed . . . .
Seifer's hands closed around Hyperion's handle, and he grinned. The reforged gunblade, resting within the sheath at his left waist, was something he was eager to take back onto the field, especially after Squall had broken it three years ago.
Then, Seifer moved his hand across to his right waist, where his saber was sheathed. He'd never given the blade a name, figuring that until he had atoned, he wasn't worthy enough to name his weapons. The nameless sword had done well, he knew, and rather than part with them, he had opted to carry both blades into combat. He knew how to fight with two swords at once, but he had just never bothered, preferring one weapon. But now, with two blades, both equally important to him . . . Seifer figured it was appropriate he carry both blades into battle.
Aside from the two blades, Seifer also wore combat armor beneath his coat, over his simple trousers and a black shirt, and was also fitted with a radio and a small arsenal of grenades and explosives. He made certain that everyone else was outfitted with at least as much firepower; they were going to need the explosives in this battle.
He passed down the corridor, walking into the central courtyard at the heart of Galbadia Garden, which was now acting as the forward tactical command center for the combined armies. Officers, technicians, and SeeDs were all in attendance, milling about, exchanging data, relaying orders, or setting up gear. heavily armored barricades had been set up along the corridors leading into this chamber; if the Estharians managed to fight their way past the external courtyards and into the building itself, they'd have to battle for every inch. Seifer had made it clear that he wanted the halls to be choked with the bodies of the enemy if they got into the central courtyard.
Seifer scanned the courtyard, and then spotted who he was looking for, toward the back, separated from most of the other chaos: four SeeDs, two Galbadian, two Balamb, and one small, black-haired girl clad in a SeeD's combat gear, though not armed with any weapons. Seifer moved over to the group, where the four SeeDs were discussing something while preparing their weapons and gear, though keeping close to Serra. He recognized the apparent leader of the group, one he'd chosen after seeingreports of his action at Trabia. This Lex guy definitely was a good hand with a katana. He turned his attention back to Serra, whowas looking around the area, somewhat bewildered by the hustle and bustle of a Garden preparing for war. As soon as she saw Seifer, though, Serra seemed to relax, glad to see someone familiar.
"How are you holding up?" Seifer asked her. She glanced to the SeeDs beside her, the bodyguard compliment Seifer had chosen, and then back to him.
"I'm fine," she replied quietly. "The men you wanted to keep me safe are very nice to me."
"Well, that's good to hear," Seifer replied with a chuckle. "But what about you? Are you ready for this? Its not going to be a walk in the park."
"I've had to defend myself before," Serra explained. "But, that was mostly just Phoenix of Diablos protecting me. I don't really have much control over them . . . ."
"Didn't Rinoa show you how to control your powers?" Seifer asked, and Serra nodded, looking down at the floor.
"What she told me . . . it didn't work for me, very much," she answered. "The way she used her magic, her Sorceress powers . . . they're different from mine. I'm not sure why. Maybe its because her powers came from Hyne directly, and she's not an Elemental, but the way she casts spells and uses energy isn't like how I do it."
Seifer listened for a moment, and then nodded.
"Are you sure Phoenix and Diablos will keep you safe?" he asked, and she nodded immediately.
"Whenever I've been threatened, they rushed to protect me," she explained. "But like I said, I'm not good at controlling them. They might react too violently if there's a lot of people around . . . ."
"How do they defend you?" he asked, and she shrugged.
"They manifest energy to attack whatever it is that's threatening me," she said. "That's pretty much the extent to which they defend me. It doesn't sound like much, but when I'm in danger, they can cause a lot of damage . . . ."
"Hopefully that'll all be at the enemy," Seifer said with a grin. "Just stay in here, and with your bodyguards. they'll keep you safe."
"I know," Serra replied with a nod. "Though I'm not sure I'll need them. the strategy Squall came up with seems like it'll work." When Seifer blinked in surprise, she nodded. "I went over the battle plan and compared it to some military history books and the SeeD Combat Manual. From what I can tell, it looks like it will work."
"You read through those?" Seifer asked, and she nodded again.
"When I knew we were going into battle they were the first things I read," she explained. "I figured I needed to learn the basics about what we would be going through."
"You understand what's going to happen, then?" Seifer asked, and she nodded firmly.
"I'm not afraid. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure we win."
"Whoo! This thing is packing so much new firepower! Its just begging to be used!" Irvine chuckled as he leaned back in his chair. The sharpshooter had managed to commandeer one of the communications terminals on the third floor of Galbadia Garden, and was using it to communicate with Selphie as she flew the Ragnarok, a fair distance behind the trio of Gardens.
"Glad to hear you approve of the upgrades," Irvine added, and on the other end of the communication, Selphie nodded. She was seated in the pilot's chair of the Ragnarok, a trio of SeeD crewmen in the other chairs surrounding her. She was clad in an outfit Squall had designed for SeeD pilots, consisting of a furred brown jacket, black shirt, and black pants, what Selphie had dubbed a "bomber's jacket." A pair of pilot's goggles rested on her forehead.
"I can't wait to test it out!" she said with that diabolically adorable smile. The smile faded slightly as she looked again at Irvine. "But what about you?" she added. "Are you okay?"
"I've got twelve thousand of Dollet, Galbadia, and SeeD's finest, in my own Garden," Irvine replied. "I'll do just perfectly. Don't forget: best gunslinger in Garden."
"But you'll be right in the middle of it," Selphie murmured. "And without me to back you up . . . ."
"Relax," Irvine assured her. "I took down Adel. These scrubs are nothing to me."
"If you're sure-"
"Yes, I'm sure," he stated. "Don't worry about me. Just keep those Estharian aircraft off our backs, okay? We'll do the rest."
"You got it!"
Squall stood on the bridge, watching the waves flash past, his image a disconcerting one to those who didn't know he could see better than they ever would. The trio of Gardens plowed through the ocean, unswerving in their unstoppable intent to locate and destroy the leadership of the Estharian force bent on conquering the nations they were to protect. They were less than an hour from the enemy's base of operations, Balamb Harbor, and had started the northerly drift to swing around the islands and hit their foes from behind.
Below, he could hear the status reports from the command deck, drifting up to his ears. Radio transmissions were flying back and forth, and status reports were coming in from the Galbadian and Dollet fleets that had drawn out the Estharian fleet. They had engaged the enemy at extreme range, with cruise missiles and magnetic accelerator cannon rounds being exchanged. So far the battle between the naval forces was at a stalemate; Esthar's long-range cannons couldn't hit the Galbadian and Dollet fleets at their extreme ranges, but the missiles from the two allied fleets couldn't get past the pulse laser phalanxes of the Estharian ships, either. Neither side had launched aircraft at the other yet, not wanting to risk fighter combat until they had gotten closer. fortunately, the Galbadian and Dollet fleets were doing a good job keeping their distance and leading the Estharians on a merry chase across the seas.
Still, the battle to the south was only a diversion. They simply had to keep the fleet busy and let Garden take out Crell.
"Reports have come in," spoke Quistis, who rode the elevator up to the top of the command pylon. "All three of our Gardens are ready for battle."
"Good," Squall answered quietly. "We're going to engage the enemy soon. Tell everyone to stand by ."
"Right," she replied, and then looked over the SeeD Commander. he was equipped for battle, she could see. He was clad in a simple white shirt, ceramic torso body armor, with a combat vest over the top of the armor, black combat fatigues fitted with multiple bandoleers of concussive force shells, and black combat boots. A simple radio and headset were clipped to his ear . . . but what surprised Quistis the most was what Squall wore on his waist. Instead of simply a single gunblade in its sheath, he wore both Lionheart and the Revolver, the two swords belted to his left hip, one atop the other, samurai-style. He wore several combat knives, one strapped to each forearm, a pair on his belt opposite his gunblades, and one on his left shoulder. Fragmentation, incendiary, and flashbang grenades were attached to his belt as well. The SeeD was fully outfitted and armed for his role in the upcoming battle.
Squall turned to Quistis, looking at her with his bandaged face.
"Quistis, you have command up here," he stated coolly. "I'm heading down to get ready for my part."
"Understood," she replied as he walked past and stepped on the elevator. She paused, and looked back to the SeeD Commander. "Take care of yourself, Squall."
"You too," he answered. "And try not to ram this thing up the enemy's ass. We need Crell alive to pull this off." She smiled at Squall's attempt at a joke, and then he descended tot he command floor.
Two minutes later Squall was walking the halls of Balamb Garden. In a scene repeating what was happening on the other two Gardens, soldiers, SeeDs, and cadets were rushing about frantically, finishing the last preparations for war. He strode among his soldiers, his mere presence raising the spirits of the troops all around him. Hundreds of times, soldiers and SeeDs would sop in their tracks to salute the Commander, all of them knowing what his mission involved and the incredible degree of danger he was about to put himself into.
"Yo, Squall!" Zell called, and the SeeD turned, to spot the brawler moving through the crowd, geared up for war as well. Zell seemed oddly . . . happy, even more so than usual. Zell gave Squall a thumbs-up as he got close.
"Good to go, man!" he declared. "Just need a good old-fashioned Squall Inspirational Speech and we'll be ready to rock!"
"I'll save that for when we encounter the enemy," Squall replied. He paused for a second, and then looked over Zell. The brawler blinked for a moment, not sure what was going on, when Squall smiled slightly.
"Who was she?" he asked. It took Zell two seconds to catch Squall's meaning, and then he went beet red. he opened his mouth, not sure what to say. Squall, taking advantage of the situation, continued. "At least, I'm hoping it was a she." Zell's eyes widened, and then a moment later he burst out laughing.
"N-no, it was a she, man," he replied, laughing hard. "But, uhh, you'd be surprised who it was."
"Who?" Squall asked. Zell hesitated, and then the SeeD Commander shook his head. "Nevermind. It doesn't really matter much." Squall nodded to Zell. "You'd better get into position. We've got less than an hour before we engage."
"Sure thing, man!" Zell replied. The brawler turned and hurried to the front gate, where he'd be participating in the initial charge that Squall would lead into Crell's fortress. Of course, that charge was simply cover to allow Squall himself to get inside the ship, where he could wreak further havoc on the enemy.
The SeeD Commander moved elsewhere, walking through the Garden, past hundreds of SeeDs and soldiers as they continued their tasks. He passed through the corridors that SeeDs were prepping for combat, setting up barricades and defensive emplacements. he moved through the Quad, which SeeDs were hastily reinforcing and prepping for combat. The battle with Galbadia three years ago had taught them than the Quad was very vulnerable and difficult to protect against a concerted attack, and Squall had taken pains to ensure that the Quad would be easily sealed off and defensible if the troops protecting it were overwhelmed. Secondary defensive positions, resupply points, and barricades were being prepared all throughout Balamb Garden in preparations for the enemy assault. Similar preparations were underway in the other Gardens.
If Esthar invaded any of the Gardens, Squall had vowed, their corpses would be stacked like firewood along the corridors.
Squall finished his inspection of Garden's defenses as the trio of warships rounded the eastern edge of Balamb Island, and started south. Squall stood at the front gate of Balamb Garden with his troops as Balamb garden passed around the cliffs at the eastern edge of the island, and started curving back west, cutting through the ocean waters at full speed. He stared resolutely at the waves before him, and the rolling landscape flashing past. To his left, he spotted Galbadia Garden flying slightly further ahead, the tip of the red Garden coming into view at the edge of his vision. Trabia Garden was waiting behind them, ready to provide fire support.
Then, they rounded the island, and came into view of the enemy.
Six massive Estharian Flying Fortresses, gigantic gunmetal-gray domes atop massive antigravity rings, were waiting for them, five of them in a semi-circle shape around a central Fortress outfitted with additional command facilities and communications gear. That one was clearly Crell's command ship.
"Full speed ahead!" Squall ordered into his microphone. "Close at flank speed!" The trio of Gardens accelerated forward noticeably, hurling themselves across the ocean waves at their enemies. Squall pressed a finger to his microphone, and stepped forward, ahead of the line of Seeds defending the entrance, and turned around to face his troops, at the same time broadcasting a fleet-wide transmission to all his troops and pilots.
"Attention, everyone," He started. "This is Commander Leonhart. We're preparing to engage the enemy." he paused, and took a breath. "This is it people. Everything we've been fighting for in this war. All the people that have died in this conflict gave their lives for this battle. this is where we're going to put an end to Crell's insane plan to conquer the world. Our world."
As he spoke, the enemy Fortresses became larger, the Gardens speeding up, putting even more power, drawing closer to the enemy.
"All our friends, families, countrymen, and comrades are depending on us to put an end to this battle. Keep your eyes, minds, and weapons on the battle at hand. If you find your thoughts straying, take them only to your fellow soldiers and families, and know that if we lose here, its over for everyone."
The enemy loomed closer, the Fortresses beginning to accelerate to engage the advancing Gardens, pushing through the waves toward their targets as surely and unswervingly as the Gardens closed with them.
"We have to win here today! Hold your positions! Stay together! Legion! We will hold our ground, and not give the enemy an inch without stacking their bodies higher than we can see! This day, this battle, this is where we put an end to this war! We're going to face our enemy, and drive that lunatic and his army of bio-engineered freaks back to the hellhole they came from!"
Squall ended his speech by drawing and thrusting Lionheart into the air, the glowing blade catching and reflecting the light of the mid-morning sun, a shining blue brand that sent a cheer rippling through his soldiers, a reverberating declaration of their intent to hold position that echoed from Galbadia Garden and to Trabia Garden, bouncing off and growing ever stronger as nearly thirty thousand assembled troops loosed their war cries. The sound echoed off the enemy Fortresses as they closed in, telling the sixty thousand Estharians that waited for them that garden was wholly dedicated to this battle.
The enemy swept in, accelerating ever faster, and Galbadia Garden surged forward, ready to intercept.
Squall pressed his finger to his ear once more.
"All personnel, this is it! Prepare to repel boarders and take the fight back to the enemy!"
"Damn straight, Squall," Seifer muttered with a grin as he stood atop Galbadia Garden. Apparently, Headmaster Martine had liked the pedestal that Seifer had installed three years ago when he took over, as the thing was still there at the top of the structure, waiting for someone sufficiently egotistical or inspiring to issue commands from.
You won't get someone more fitting for that job than me, Seifer thought as his Garden moved ahead, prepared to clash with the enemy and buy Balamb Garden the cover it needed.
"Guns," he ordered into his microphone. "See that Fortress at the front, the one that's all ambitious and shit?"
"Yes sir?" came the answer.
"Disabuse those assholes of the notion."
A second later, on one of the upper levels of Galbadia Garden, directly on its bow, several massive panels slid open, revealing a dozen large tubes the height of a man, each one loaded with a Galbadian Anvil-III anti-ship missile.
Galbadia Garden shuddered, and Seifer winced as the thundering, throaty, roaring eruptions of missile propellant ignited, and his coat went flying wildly as twelve huge naval cruise missiles erupted from the bow of Galbadia Garden, directly over his position, and lanced toward the lead Flying Fortress.
The enemy pilot attempted to get his ship out of the way, but the massive dome of the fortress was simply begging to be hit, and all twelve missiles answered that request. The first projectile slammed into the dome just port of the warship's bow, blasting a forty-foot wide crater in the side of the ship's armored hull, a roiling yellow-white fireball of raging destruction that tore through multiple decks and sent rippling shockwaves through the ship. This was repeated eleven times as the remainder of the missiles tore into the massive craft, ripping through solid metal decks and consuming hundreds of men and tremendous portions of arms and equipment. The explosions tore deeply into the ship, leaving a gaping, ripped hole in the front of the Fortress. The detonations shoved the warship backward and to the side, sending it reeling, leaving it helpless before Seifer's next command.
"Shove those bitches out of our way."
Rinoa stood at the front gate of Trabia Garden, alongside a force of about three hundred Trabian and Balamb SeeDs, and watched as Galbadia Garden accelerated even faster than it had been going, and rammed the wounded, reeling Estharian Fortress head on. She could hear the resounding clash of metal on metal as Galbadia Garden collided hard, and watched in awe as the stalled, battered Fortress was hurled back and to the side, out of Balamb Garden's path and almost onto its side, before the antigravity ring stabilized it. Balamb Garden surged forward, past Galbadia Garden, as the crimson warship turned to the port, facing one of the undamaged enemy Fortresses and surging toward it at full speed.
The two Fortresses to the starboard of the battered fortress accelerated toward Balamb Garden, intent on stopping it dead in its tracks. Rinoa scowled, and concentrated.
"Hoo shit," one of the SeeDs, a survivor of the battle at Trabia, remarked as he saw what she was preparing to do. He was dead on the money when Rinoa's mind plunged through the metal and ceramic plating of the enemy Fortress, diving into the heart of the ship and its drive system.
Five seconds later, fire blossomed from the interior of the enemy Fortress as Rinoa detonated the primary drive system, transforming the Estharian ship into a massive roiling expansion of raging fire and flying shrapnel and bodies.
The Fortress behind the exploding one swerved to the side as Rinoa dropped to her knees, clutching her chest as pain cut through her body.
No, not again! just like what happened at Trabia . . . I'm using too much power . . . .
Rinoa clenched her teeth and looked up at the second Fortress as it swerved past the burning wreckage, clearly shocked by the extent of the devastation its ally had been struck with. Rinoa watched it for a moment, and then shakily stood to her feet, helped by several SeeDs. She waited for it to move, and when it finally did, drifting toward Balamb Garden and starting to move into its path to cut it off from attacking Crell's command Fortress, she thrust her mind into the heart of the machine again, intent on stopping it regardless of the pain that it would cost her.
This time, as the enemy Fortress detonated in another roiling ball of fire, Rinoa let out a scream of agony and collapsed backward, her legs giving out as pain knifed up her spine and through her heart and lungs. She was caught by several shocked and amazed SeeDs.
"Get her to the infirmary!" one of the SeeD officers ordered, and the soldiers that had caught her lifted her up and started carrying Rinoa quickly through the lines. They got halfway through the SeeDs assembled at the gate when Rinoa stirred, reaching up and grabbing the SeeDs' arms.
"Let me . . . go," she whispered, and the four soldiers carrying her paused, before reluctantly stopping and lowering her to her feet. The Sorceress stood shakily, reaching up to her chest and touching her heart, shocked by what had just happened.
Hyne's power . . . I'm using too much of it. More power than a mortal body can handle . . . .
Still, the pain she felt was worth it, Rinoa knew, when she saw Balamb Garden flying forward, heedless of any enemy that had been closing in moments before, driving straight toward their enemy without slowing. She had bought Squall the opening he needed to drive his dagger straight into the heart of his enemy.
"Stand ready!" Squall ordered as the enemy loomed ahead. The wreckage of the destroyed fortresses was still pinging off the hull of Balamb Garden as it charged relentlessly forward, diving without fear toward Crell's command ship.
Panels along the Estharian Fortress slid upward, revealing a half dozen troop bays where thousands of white and black-clad Estharian soldiers stood, ready to charge into the fray and meet Balamb Garden head on. The front entrance of the Fortress, where the soldiers boarded the ship, opened outward like a blossoming flower, showing a legion of black and blue-armored cyborg infantry ready to meet Garden's assault.
"Oh, yeah, time for some payback, assholes!" Zell muttered beside Squall, and the SeeD Commander nodded.
"Stand ready!" Squall ordered again. "Prepare shields!"
Magic played over the thousand SeeDs assembled at the front gate and the hallways beyond. The warriors of Balamb Garden readied their weapons, steeling their jaws and clenching their weapon tightly. The enemy Fortress closed in, rising up above, looming ever more closely, towering directly over them, the thousands of men aboard tensing in preparation for the assault. SeeDs and soldiers alike held their breath as the enemy became more and more clearly, the two ships preparing to connect-
A tremendous crash flew throughout both warships as they collided, front entrances of both ships nearly perfectly meeting.
"Hooks! Ramps! Fire!"
At Squall's order, several ports opened along the front of Balamb Garden, and grappling hooks shot forward, burying into the armored hull of the Fortress, securing the two ships' hold, and ramps extended from Balamb Garden, slamming down onto the deck of the Estharian Fortress.
"CHARGE!"
The thousand SeeDs rushed forward, as fast as their junctions could carry them, thundering a war cries as they surged ahead. Yet, as fast as the Garden warriors rushed forward, they could not match the speed by which Squall Leonhart dashed ahead, Lionheart shining like a fiery swath of divine punishment as he leapt over the ramp and landed right in front of the charging Estharian cyborgs. A hundred black-armored warriors greeted him, with a thousand more of their fellow cybernetic infantry and thousands more Estharian regulars right behind them.
Lionheart ripped forward, and the first cyborg to stand before Squall fell in two as the SeeD Commander bore in. In an instant, he chopped across, severing another foe's head, dropped low beneath an axe chop, and whipped around, Lionheart flying out wide and flashing through two more foes, and then rolled around the next opponent in line, blade stabbing up into a foe's heart and then flashing back over his shoulder and chopping through the head of the cyborg he had spun around.
Three seconds later, a thousand SeeDs stormed over the ramp, to find Squall in the midst of two dozen corpses and driving deeper, whirling and stabbing, slashing and chopping. Lightning shot from his hands, curling through the enemy ranks, throwing cyborgs to their feet as he spun and struck, slicing through a squad of the enemy in a single smooth, brutal motion of cutting blue light. His blade slashed through every possible opening, and parried every stroke before it even began. Squall ducked, whirled, dove, and sprang aside as his foes struck, already out of the line of attack and cutting down another foe before the Estharians could start swinging. Zanshin told him everything he needed to know, and the overwhelming strength and unimaginable speed that Griever granted the SeeD sent him ripping through the enemy ranks, fountains of blood and flying body parts following him as he cut through, a whirling dervish of unstoppable death, untouchable by even his foes' own gushing blood.
This unyielding foe had single-handedly thrown the Estharians into chaos, so that when Zell Dincht, leading a thousand screaming SeeDs, crashed into the Estharian lines, there was no sense of order among the enemy ranks. Every SeeD blade found blood and enemy vitals in the first second after the wave of Garden warriors plowed into the Estharian army. A tidal wave of magic buried two hundred more of the enemy in the next second, and Zell Dincht, his army behind him, burst through the maelstrom of death and energy and crushed an enemy head with a flying kick.
As the foe hit the ground an instant before Zell, the brawler readied his fists, sliding into a defensive stance as another cyborg chopped in with its shotaxe. His fingers clamped around the shaft of the axe, and Zell whirled, flipping the cyborg over and slamming it into the ground, before stomping its chest in. He spun around, facing another foe, stepping forward into a powerful side-kick that blasted through the cyborg's parrying shotaxe and launched the Estharian soldier thirty feet back, bowling over a dozen of its comrades. An axe cut in at Zell's right, and that arm shot forward, wrapping around the haft of the weapon while Zell's left crossed over and impacted solidly with the soldier's chest, crumpling its armor, bones, and mechanical parts. It simply flopped to the ground, dead instantly. The axe Zell caught whipped forward in an eye-blink, burying into the chest of the next cyborg, and the brawler leapt over the falling Estharian, knee rising up and catching the soldier behind it in the chin. Behind him, a SeeD blinked, surprised, for he had never seen anyone, even Zell, decapitate a foe with their kneecap. But the fact that the Estharian's head went flipping end over end across the battlefield at the end of Zell's leg proved this fact, even as the brawler landed amidst a half-dozen of the enemy. He charged in, fists flailing and legs pumping, ducking and weaving. His elbow crunched into an enemy's gut, and his fist bent a shotaxe back over itself while his leg blasted another foe's face to mush. The six soldiers each fell hard to the ground, pulverized by Zell's overwhelming strength, skill, and sheer ferocity.
All around the brawler, the thousand SeeDs charged in, plowing the enemy under their ranks, assaulting the enemy with a ferocity unprecedented. Their rage was fueled by intense SeeD training that Squall himself had developed, and they were inspired to shocking acts of merciless savagery simply by watching Zell tear into the enemy, punching and beating and slamming his way through every foe with reckless abandon. Heads flew, fallen enemy soldiers were hacked and beaten, and any foe that stood before the SeeD onslaught was totally annihilated. However, even as inspiring as Zell's assault was, it paled before the maelstrom of death that was Squall Leonhart.
An axe doveat him, but he was already stepping aside, left hand shooting up and catching the axe and subtly redirecting it at another foe while Lionheart was slipping into the ribs of a third opponent. The soldier about to be struck by his comrade's axe hopped back, but moved directly into Squall's blade as it arced across, while the SeeD kicked the first soldier in the stomach, doubling him over and making him an easy target as the SeeD cut past, drawing a knife for the instant needed to expertly pierce his temple and move on. Four more of the enemy closed in, and Squall shot between them, not stopping until he was past them, his gunblade arcing twice, slicing the arm from one victim and severing another's head. He stabbed out behind him as he stopped, cutting out the lungs of a third soldier, and then whirled, blade arcing across, slicing both the survivors in half before dropping low to the ground and skittering to the side. An axe fell where he had been standing an instant before, and following the axe was the top half of the soldier as Squall moved past the attacking cyborg, chopping down another foe, spinning around wildly and cleaving through another enemy. Lightning coursed across his arms and struck down a cluster of the enemy as he charged into a full platoon of cyborgs, blade hacking down the first pair. Squall suddenly reversed direction, flipping back over another foe and slicing through his head in mid-air. The Estharian platoon charged after the SeeD-
-and erupted into a gigantic fireball as the incendiary grenade Squall had dropped in their midst went up. even as the incinerated soldiers were hitting the ground, Squall shot through the flames, unscathed, and cut through another pair without slowing, then spun around, loosing another torrent of lightning that felled a dozen and more of the enemy. More Estharians surged toward him, and their corpses dropped to the ground, blood splashing across their comrades and along the floor beneath them, but none of it touching Squall as he methodically advanced, Lionheart chopping and cutting, striking and flashing, in a tireless, unstoppable tide of savage butchery and slaughter. Squall Leonhart's dance was nothing a human could hope to put an end to, and he proved this by paving a trail of torn, bisected corpses with each step deeper into the fortress. With every cut of Lionheart, another life vanished. With every step, another man died. With every foot he gained, more blood stained the floor.
With every man that fell screaming to the floor, Griever smiled.
With every man that died, Hades sang.
And with every bit of beautiful, horrible destruction Squall Leonhart wrought, Hyne reveled.
Squall danced, the three dark Guardians laughed, and the battle raged on inexorably.
As the Estharian army had prepared to invade at the front gate of Balamb Garden, so to had they prepared to invade the upper levels. Muster bays higher up along the Estharian Flying Fortresses opened up, revealing legions of ready assault troops, who rapidly fired grappling lines and rode light weight hovering jetpacks strapped to their backs. Cyborg soldiers leapt from the open bays across the distance between the two warships, planted arm-mounted pitons and claws into the walls and kicking in classroom and training area windows. They dropped inside the Garden, and were met instantly by SeeD counter attacks, magic and bullets cutting down the first invaders before they even touched down. The combined Estharian force, however, swarmed into the classrooms, batting SeeD forces in close combat. The SeeD troops hammered the enemy, their junctions and magic more than giving them the edge they needed to outfight the first Estharian waves.
Along Balamb Garden's bow, however, in the classroom directly facing the Flying Fortress, the Estharian troops encountered a foe they weren't expecting. While a contingent of SeeD defenders was present in the room, they were not expecting to face a foe who wielding the infernos of hell as if they were extensions of his own body.
The first platoon of cyborgs touched down, and a wall of fire burst into existence beneath them, Nash stared at the immolated cyborgs as they were reduced to charred bone and molten electronics, a slight grin on his face. More of the enemy rushed into the chamber, diving around or through the wall of scorching fire, and the scientist wreathed himself in flame, the long cloth bundle he had been carrying the previous day strapped to his back and untouched by the blaze surrounding him. Those soldiers who charged the scientist were caught in the fiery aura and incinerated.
More of the enemy came on, and the SeeDs opened fire, streams of magic and sheets of bullets cutting down the attacking enemy. Nash walked forward calmly, uncrossing his arms.
Two concentrations of the enemy came at him, and he pointed his arms at the groups, loosed torrents of fire that poured over the unfortunate Estharian troops. A cyborg dove through the fires at Nash, and he swept a hand forward, a blaze of crimson transforming the man's torso to ash and sending his blackened limbs and head flying past the scientist. Another foe closed in from the right, and a gout of flame shot through him to burn down two of his comrades behind him. Another wave of the enemy poured in as Nash strode forward, and he swept both hand forward, a semicircle of fire crashing over them like a tidal wave from hell.
Nash strode past the charred bodies and floating ash, tot he shattered window of the classroom, and looked out at the Fortress before him, before grinning. The Estharians were no longer attacking his position, and for good reason. Now, to take the fight to his enemies.
"Cover this position!" he shouted to the SeeDs behind him as they finished mopping up the survivors, and they nodded. Nash then shot forward, leaping out into the air between the two warships, his inhuman Elemental strength dropping him squarely into one of the launch bays, where hundreds of Estharians were waiting, axes drawn and rifles leveled.
"You boys best get out of my way," he stated quietly. When the enemy soldiers showed no sign of backing down, Nash set his body ablaze, grinning.
"Fine then!" he shouted, clenching his fists. A forty-foot wide corona of flame shot around him for an instant, reducing those closest to the scientist to ash. "You want to get between me and Hyne? You can burn here, and then burn in hell!"
The two undamaged Flying Fortresses closed with Galbadia Garden, which, at Seifer's order, had turned and gleefully hurled itself directly at the two Estharian warships. The soldiers on the enemy ships apparently weren't too happy with how Galbadia Garden had thrown aside their comrades moments before, and hundreds of the enemy opened fire as the three ships closed. Plasma and bullets lanced out from dozens of positions, striking wildly across the exterior of Galbadia Garden, doing little damage. Seifer nodded as he understood what the enemy was doing: they were dropping suppressive fire for an inevitable enemy charge.
"Well, that's just fine," Seifer mused with a grin. He touched his radio as the Garden and the Fortresses drew closer, the Estharian ships sailing side by side.
"All right, people!" Seifer called. "Stand by to repel boarders! They want us to rush out there and meet them head-on. We're not stupid enough to play their game." Indeed, Seifer was right; the Estharian army was already assembling at the main entry ramps of their fortresses and gathering in the assault and landing bays to pour out onto Galbadia Garden. Doubtless they hoped to crush the Galbadian, Dollet and SeeD forces on the Garden under their superior numbers.
Of course, Seifer had no intention of sending his army out. Tough as they were, and capable melee combatants, his force was vastly made up of normal infantry and unjunctioned Galbadia Garden SeeDs. Against Estharian cyborgs and Elementals, his troops were not a decent match in close-quarters battle.
Of course, that was why Seifer had structured his defenses to take advantage of the overwhelming amount of firepower his troops could bring to bear on the enemy.
Assault ramps slammed down onto the deck of Galbadia Garden, and grappling lines shot across, firmly connecting the two Fortresses to Galbadia Garden's bow. A tidal wave of thundering boots resounded as the Estharian army rushed out from the gates, covering fire scything before them to keep the SeeD, Galbadian, and Dollet forces from rushing out to meet them. Thousands of silver and black armored Estharians charged across the open ground outside the central structure of Galbadia Garden. The leading line of the enemy held their off-hands forward, and shimmering discs of protective force fields flashed into existence.
Exactly how Seifer wanted it to be.
He touched his microphone, grinning as he saw his foes walking right into the teeth of his army.
"Open fire."
At that command, two thousand SeeD, Galbadian, and Dollet soldiers, as many as could be gathered along the bow of the Garden, pointed rifles out the front windows, doors, and dozens of concealed firing ports. Three hundred demolitions specialists leveled grenade and rocket launchers, and high up along the Garden, snipers from the three armies shouldered their weapons. Then, death fell upon the charging lines of Estharian soldiers, who rushed across the open ground heedless of their peril.
Bullets tore into the front line of cyborgs and soldiers, the first wave of rounds bouncing off the protective energy shields for the most part. Many rounds, however, found their marks, striking legs, arms, and shoulders, spinning the enemy around or dropping them to the dirt. The SeeDs and soldiers continued their fire, bullets tearing into the less-protected soldiers behind the leading edge, dropping the enemy with precise automatic gunfire. Heavy sniper rounds tore the enemy in half, blasting them to flying, bloody chunks. Heavy machineguns roared, their massive rounds and tremendous gunfire ripping through Estharian armor like tissue paper. Rockets and grenades detonated in the midst of the enemy, blasting gaping holes in the tide of Estharian aggressors. The entire front end of Galbadia Garden's main structure became a blazing flash of light, as tracer rounds, grenades, and rockets shot out amid a sea of white muzzle flashes. The front of the Garden seemed to be on fire, so intense was the combined fire of the SeeD, Galbadian, and Dollet force.
Within the first thirty seconds, over two thousand Estharians were dead, yet the enemy charged on, right into the teeth of the combined force heedlessly, the silver and black tide unyielding even before the sickening carnage. Cyborgs and Estharian regulars bulled through the merciless barrage of bullets and rockets, closing in with the forces defending the main entrances into Galbadia Garden.
Irvine Kinneas was standing at the main entrance of Galbadia Garden, with over a thousand of his comrades behind him, SeeD and soldier alike. The entire entrance was lined with hundreds of men, some kneeling, others standing shoulder to shoulder, firing their rifles in staggered bursts to conserve ammunition and to ensure that the entire force wasn't reloading at once. Behind the firing soldiers were hundreds more men, working quickly to reload spent rifles and cycling freshly loaded weapons to the front, ensuring that the troops at the front gate almost always had a loaded weapon they were shooting at the enemy. The sharpshooter was armed with his PGS-1 sniper rifle at first, picking off the enemy with utmost precision the instant the order to fire had come. He had reloaded the twelve-round rifle twice before the enemy had drawn closer to the gate, and slung the sniper rifle over his shoulder, calmly drawing his Valiant multipurpose rifle.
"Prepare shotguns and grenades!" he ordered his troops. At once, a hundred soldiers and SeeDs at the front responded, lowering their rifles and drawing shotguns. Many more behind them primed grenades. The lines of men behind them maintained rifle fire as the Estharians closed in, mincing the enemy with no mercy or respite. Enemy soldiers tripped over their comrades as they charged, and blood flew as hundreds of the swarming enemy fell, drawing closer and closer to the gate.
"Grenades out!" Irvine ordered, and the soldiers readying grenades hurled the explosives forward, a mixture of incendiary and fragmentation grenades landing amidst the enemy as they closed to within forty feet. Fireballs and exploding blasts of shrapnel tore into the enemy, blasting ragged holes in the tide. More Estharians bulled through the devastated army, closing in, and then the shotguns rang out. Heavy buckshot tore into the enemy, ripping through the Estharian soldiers and blasting them backward. Irvine fired as well, his Valiant's loaded shotgun shells gutting the enemy as he pumped round after round into the tide.
More grenades flew out, and rifle fire continued to pour from the entrance, shotgun blasts tearing apart any foe that neared the entrance. hundreds of dead and dying piled up in a wide semi-circle around Galbadia Garden's main entrance, the swarming Estharian soldiers falling by the dozens. They scrambled over their fallen comrades and dropped dead to the dirt from dozens of bullet wounds. Cyborgs rushed through the devastation, bullets bouncing off their shields and armor, only to finally succumb at the ends of gore-splattered shotguns. The deafening roar of gunfire and explosions, the screams of dying enemy soldiers, and the barked shouts of the troops nestled within the archway filled Irvine's ears as he fired, killing and maiming and slaughtering the enemy in a hellish tide of fiery death.
The enemy came on heedlessly, dying and falling, many mere feet away from the SeeDs and soldiers that kept pumping bullets and grenades and buckshot into the Estharians. The Garden forces kept killing the enemy at a horrific rate, with hardly any losses of their own, but Irvine knew that soon enough the Estharians' momentum would carry the enemy into his front lines, and many more of his people would die.
After a moment, he touched his ear, firing the Valiant one-handed as he barked a barely audible order over the microphone.
"They're storming into the archway!"
Seifer, up above nodded silently, and tapped his own microphone.
"First layer: detonate."
Earlier that day, Seifer had his army bury several layers of mines into the ground outside Galbadia Garden.
With thousands of swarming Estharians right outside his gates and doors, the mines could not have had a better opportunity to inflict massive casualties to the enemy.
Hundreds of mines exploded, launching storms and whirlwinds of shrapnel into the air, ripping through thousands of Estharian soldiers in an instant. Back smoke, blood, and boy parts fountained into the sky, hurled dozens of feet into the air as the heart of the Estharian army was shredded. The soldiers that were too close to the gates and entrances to be hit by the mines rushed on, into the teeth of the combined armies, and were rapidly and entirely slaughtered.
From on high, watching over the battlefield, Seifer saw the Estharians continue to surge out of their Fortresses, but the new wave of the enemy, charging across open ground, seemed to falter as they ran headlong into a rain of falling body parts, melted weapons, and splattering blood. Seifer watched as his own soldiers further dissuaded the enemy by pouring rocket and machinegun fire into the charging Estharian force, beating them back.
Finally, after several long seconds, the Estharian army, gunfire ripping into their ranks, fell back, retreating into the comparative safety of their own Garden.
They left seven thousand slaughtered Estharian warriors on the field outside of Galbadia Garden, with almost no Garden dead to show for their losses.
Seifer stared out over the hellish tangle of burned and shredded corpses, and shook his head. Every single one of those men had died for Crell Varines' lies and deceit.
Seifer sincerely hoped that the bastard would burn in the deepest pits of hell for these men who had died in his false name.
"Is . . . is this what war is like?" came a whisper behind Seifer, and he glanced back behind him, to see Serra standing behind the Galbadia Garden commander, looking out over the carnage. Seifer nodded grimly.
"Yeah, this is exactly what war is," he replied darkly. "You still up for this?"
She was silent for several moments, and when Seifer looked back at her, the girl was still staring at the horrific carnage that was spread out over the landscape. After several seconds, she slowly nodded, firming her jaw.
"Yes. Yes, I am."
"Then you'd better get ready for round two," he replied. "They'll be back, and next time, they won't come charging right at us begging to be massacred."
Seifer saw flashes of light to his right, and nodded as he saw the distant northern horizon darken. An avalanche of aircraft swept over the mountains, death flying before them as the Garden air force entered the battle.
"Ragnarok Air Wing: You are clear to attack."
Selphie, seated behind the controls of the Ragnarok, loosed a cry of exultation as Quistis' words could be heard over the comm. She turned her mighty airship, and the banking of the Ragnarok caused vast plumes of water to shoot out of the ocean as the craft turned, moving out of its terrain-following course. The draconic airship shot up into the sky, gunning its engines.
"Guns, remove safeties on all weapons!" she ordered, and Jofey, the SeeD sitting beside her, nodded, hands flying over the holographic panels.
"Aye, Selphie," he answered, smiling slightly, finally ready to unleash the hellish firepower at his fingertips.
"Ops, give us all the power we can to get us over that mountain!" Selphie ordered, leaning forward in her chair. Elain, sitting behind Selphie at the operations console, nodded silently, pumping all nonessential power into their engines.
"Hang on, guys!" Selphie ordered as the Ragnarok lanced across the ocean, rising into the sky as they drew closer to Balamb Garden. "Comms, tell our friends to keep it tight! We're going to burn the Estharians' air fleet to cinders! Whoo!"
As Selphie spoke, the skies behind her went momentarily dark as hundreds of shapes swept up into the skies after her airship, following her course. Sky blue-painted jets from Galbadia, larger brown and gray fighter-bombers from Dollet, and the slender, almost delicate fighters of Estharian defectors. Leading the fighter force were a dozen Estharian aircraft, painted with bloody red slashes along their fuselage, and the black stylized image of a raptor swooping in on its prey. Esthar's elite, Raptor Squadron, gathered around the Ragnarok.
The mountains of northern Balamb rose up beneath the tide of aircraft as they stabbed southward, flashing over the landscape. They flew over the peaks of the mountains, the black and gray tops of the range shooting beneath the wings of fighters, and they were over Balamb. The aircraft rapidly spotted the main Estharian base, near the coastline, and a vast array of fighters and bombers long a tremendous airfield the enemy had set up. Estharian ships were already taking off, slender fighters rising up from the fields to attack the invading aircraft. Many, however, were still preparing for takeoff.
"Those Estharians can set up bases fast," commented Jofey, and Selphie nodded.
"And we can knock 'em down faster!" Selphie answered. "Charge beam cannon and transfer control of the machineguns to my console! I'm not here just to drive this thing!"
"On it," Jofey replied, fingers tapping lights over his panel.
"Signal the fleet," Selphie continued. "Estharians, form a screen over the bombers. Galbadians and Dollet, order them to strafe the airfield; blow up anything that looks important, and then engage fighters!"
"And what about us?" Jofey asked as two lights flashed on top of Selphie's controls. She smiled diabolically. "Beam cannon their headquarters, and drop cluster bombs as we pass overhead. We're pounding that base flat!"
"Aye aye, Selphie," Jofey replied. "Coming into range . . . now!"
"Bombers, fire at will!" Selphie ordered as Raptor Squadron shot ahead, followed by two hundred more fighters, the best of Esthar's air corps spreading out to engage the enemy. Glittering needles and blazing pulse lasers shot between the two fighter fleets, Raptor Squadron interweaving inside the chaotic maelstrom of projectiles and beams. Dozens of the enemy exploded and evaporated at the ends of their weapons alone, and then the friendly and enemy fighters met, diving into a massive aerial battle over the island. Needles and lasers cut and flashed in the whirlwind of engaging fighters, but none of the enemy ships were able to break free an engage the Ragnarok or its bombers as they swept over the field.
The sky over Balamb turned into one titanic rainstorm of falling missiles as over eight hundred fighters and bombers opened up. Rivers of missiles shot down at the Estharian airbases and the fighters still waiting to launch. Enemy pilots leapt out of their craft as the wave of projectiles dove in, and crewmen scattered. The missiles slammed into the grounded fighters, ripping into the Estharian aircraft and blasting them apart. A blanket of fire and smoke spread across the airfield as more and more missiles fell, detonating and impacting against fighter craft, and then continuing toward temporary hangars where even more Estharian planes waited to launch.
Ragnarok held its fire, until it flew over a patch where a reserve force of Estharian fighters, as well as dozens of Corsair aerial transports, were positioned. Selphie grinned, and Jofey nodded, dropping a half-dozen cluster bombs over the airfield. The explosives fell amidst the aircraft and detonated, spreading annihilation over the grounded ships instantly.
A second later, the Estharian command center came into view, and Jofey settled his sights over it. Selphie tapped the triggers on her controls, and machinegun fire ripped into the headquarters, blasting chunks of armored plating from it, weakening the overall structure. When Jofey sent his shining bolt of energy into the building, the beam cannon's shot penetrated the armored plating and detonated deep inside. The Estharian HQ was torn asunder, blasted apart in a fireball of destructive energy as the Ragnarok shot past, engines roaring like the dragon it represented, eight hundred bombers and fighters flying in its wake, leaving nothing but a flattened and burning airfield behind them, and so many slagged Estharian aircraft.
"I think we've crippled their air-to-air game," Elain commented, looking out over the damage, and Selphie nodded as she swung the Ragnarok back toward the main dogfight.
"Now, let's get in there and put an end to this!" she declared, and gunned the engines, her massive force spearing toward the mass of battling fighters.
The front gate of Crell's Flying Fortress was a cacophony of chaos, where SeeD hammered Crell's troops, crushing them well in excess of five to one. The havoc being unleashed along the front gate and in the corridors and bays of the structure as Squall and Nash blasted and burned their way deeper into the Fortress naturally had the focused attention of the Estharian army.
There was no one patrolling the darkened accessways in the Fortress' lower levels, so that when an access panel popped open and was lowered to the floor by the huge, armored, muscled arm of Raijin, none was present to see it.
Fujin landed on the floor, dropping from the vent shaft that her group had been moving through, and scanned the room around them, before nodding.
"Clear," she whispered, and Raijin dropped down next, staff in hand. Following the pair was Laguna Loire, the spry older man clad in combat fatigues and carrying his rifle. He looked over the room, one of several electrical and communications rooms for the Fortress, and a hub for its data traffic. Perfect.
He was still amazed at the ease by which they had gotten inside. Then again, the Fortresses were heavily based off Garden's own designs, even so far as to use similar accessways. However, the technology underlying them was distinctly Estharian, and there were ways to get around distinctly Estharian security. Laguna made it his business to know these methods. All it had taken was a Garden Zodiac insertion submersible, made for this type of aquatic infiltration, to get them near the Fortress while the battle was raging, and Laguna had found an external access hatch, popped the security, and gotten them inside.
Esthar's rightful President reached into his backpack and took out a light notebook computer. Raijin kept an eye on the door while Fujin helped him locate the main data hub and plug in, simulating a standard combat access request. Once he had access to the system, Laguna worked his way inside the ship's networks. Now, he just needed to override some security restrictions on certain systems . . . .
"Crell built his empire on lies," Laguna remarked quietly to Fujin, and she nodded. "Its only fitting that Truth is what brings him down."
"Status on the upper floors?" Quistis asked as she strode across the command deck. She looked up at the main screen, showing the Garden schematics, with the upper levels and the main gate flashing red, indicating that they were areas of conflict.
"We're holding," answered the SeeD officer in charge of that sector. "Casualties are relatively light, though I think that they're simply trying to keep us from doing the same right back at them. They've violently resisted any attempts we made to attack their ship in response."
"Makes sense for a command ship," Quistis mused. "We haven't landed any troops on their ship, have we?"
"No, ma'am," the officer replied. "But any fire we send their way is returned ferociously. They definitely don't want us on the ship."
"They've already got their hands full with Squall and Nash," Quistis replied. "Front gate?"
"Estharian forces are being forced back into their own ship, but are rapidly organizing against our troops," replied one of the technicians. "Right now its a stalemate between our forces and the Estharians at the entry ramps."
"Squall has broken through their lines, correct?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," the tech answered. "He's already moving deep inside the enemy base. A substantial number of the enemy troops broke off to pursue him as he cut through their lines."
"Truth has penetrated the interior of the Fortress," came another call. "Our teams are in place."
"Have our troops draw back into Garden," Quistis ordered. " Tell them to take up defensive positions along our front gate and fend off any enemy attacks. Truth and Deception are onboard. Now we just have to hold until they finish their jobs."
She turned to another technician, their communications liaison with Galbadia Garden.
"What's the status of Galbadia Garden?"
"Minimal casualties," answered the technician. "Seifer and Randolph report that they've inflicted massive losses on the enemy and driven them back into their own Fortresses. They were apparently expecting us to rush out and engage them like we did at our front gate here."
"Tell them to maintain position and keep the enemy occupied while we finish our jobs." She turned to another liaison, the one for Trabia Garden. "Trabia?"
"Holding behind us," the man replied. "They reported that Rinoa collapsed momentarily from shock after taking out the two Fortresses that were moving after us, but she's fine now."
Quistis nodded, relieved. She had heard what had happened to Rinoa after the battle of Trabia and was worried that she would be all right with the task she had been assigned.
After this is over, Rinoa, I hope we won't need to use your powers like this again . . . .
"Air wing?"
"Enemy airbase flattened," the technician replied. "Selphie's forces are engaging the enemy that is airborne." He paused, and frowned. "Radar contacts indicate that the Estharian fleet to the south has launched its fighters and is sending them north. That may cause trouble."
"We'll handle that when the time comes," Quistis replied calmly. She looked over the data on her screens, and nodded, and finally allowed herself a smile. Despite everything that had happened, and in spite of all the possibilities that something could have gone wrong, things looked remarkably good.
If the battle went as planned, the war would be over within half an hour, and Crell's insane plans would be put to an end.
The corridors were slick with blood. Corpses and body parts were strewn about like fallen leaves, hundreds of men fallen to the ground along his path as Squall cut his way deeper and deeper into the Fortress. Down halls, through chambers, along passages, the SeeD chopped and slashed and massacred. Lionheart cut through the enemy with effortless grace, and Squall struck with no mercy, cleaving through his foes as if they were paper targets in a training room.
The slow motion nightmare of dying men, flying blood, and torn bodies progressed through the halls, Squall chopping the enemy down like the killing machine he was born to be. The Chimera genes within him drove him forward, the SeeD training numbing his mind down to accommodate the slaughter. He worked without emotion, striking down his foes, arms and feet and body flowing in a whirlwind of death and violence as he stalked the corridors. The enemy came, the enemy died. He killed and killed and killed, over and over and over again, mind working almost on autopilot as he drove on, unrelenting.
Twenty minutes passed before Squall Leonhart stood in the corridors leading to the heart of Crell's Fortress, the walls and floor streaked with the blood of the dead, and none stood to oppose him. He'd lost count of the men he'd ripped through to get here, but he guessed the numbers of the slaughtered lay in the hundreds.
Six hundred and fifty-seven men.
Squall frowned as he heard Griever laughing in the back of his mind.
Shut up.
Hm. This was most amusing to watch, though I do regret that you killed many of them so quickly that they felt little pain. Only the despair of realizing they were facing death itself. Still, that seems quite . . . adequate.
Squall didn't answer Griever's musings as he strode down the hallway. The Guardian seemed to consider speaking, but then opted to go silent and dormant once more as Squall advanced through the passages, and finally stood before the double doors that connected to the command chamber. He considered cutting through them, but even as he was contemplating that, they slid open on their own, revealing the large room beyond.
"Welcome, Commander," spoke the man standing across from the entrance. Squall slowly strode into the office, his inhuman senses primed and seeking out any threats. While Squall sensed the pulse of electronics and machinery surrounding him, he detected no active defense systems or the pulse of living guards, nor the energies inherent within an Elemental soldier. Crell was alone.
"You've been expecting me," Squall stated, and Crell laughed. The Commander focused on him, and could see the features of his face, so shockingly similar to Squall's own, though slightly different. Like looking at an identical twin to his mother . . . which Crell Varines actually was.
"I have, Commander Leonhart," Crell replied easily. His tone was far too relaxed for a man who was facing down someone as unbelievably dangerous as Squall. Something was wrong.
"Then you know why I'm here," Squall continued, stalking forward.
"You're here so you can die, Commander," Crell responded. Squall paused, slowly sliding into a defensive stance.
"Really."
"Yes, indeed," Crell continued. "Garden, along with the best of Galbadia and Dollet's militaries, are going to be annihilated in a single blazing fury of destruction on this glorious day of conquest. And once your armies are annihilated, nothing will stand between me and the rule of the entire world, as it was meant to be under Adel."
"Not if I can help it," Squall replied. "Besides, we've dealt with worse odds before, and two of your Fortresses have already been wiped out. Three against four is good odds, I'd estimate, and you've only got a single battalion of Elementals against ten thousand SeeDs."
"Indeed," Crell continued, and the dictator settled back into his chair, smiling evenly at Squall. His actions, clearly relaxed and blatantly making himself vulnerable, did nothing to lessen Squall's unease.
"Your analysis of the odds is indeed spot-on, considering the forces at my disposal at this moment," Crell continued. "The fleet is battling Dollet and Galbadia's navies to the west, and with twenty-thousand men lost at the hands of Rinoa, things are going well on your side. You and that traitor Nash have even caused considerable consternation among my own men in your valiant assault on my headquarters. You have even advantage in the air, and you possess three pure Elementals, not to mention your own daughter. You have the advantage, Commander, and for gaining such a position, I do salute you."
Squall stared with his eyeless gaze at Crell, dread working its way into his gut as he realized what Crell was leading up to.
"Of course, everything you've done has been based entirely on a simple, basic assumption, Commander," Crell stated, leaning forward. "Tell me . . . did Dincht honestly believe that Malachi told him the truth in their battle? Relying on the infallible nature of 'villainous exposition'?"
Squall's mouth opened slightly, and h e understood instantly what Crell meant. The dictator lowered a hand to his desk and tapped a control, smiling like a predator who had caught his prey perfectly.
"Uncloak."
"Commander Trepe!" shouted one of the technicians, her words cutting into Quistis' ears as she reviewed the battle data. The words she was speaking were loud and urgent.
"Yes?" Quistis asked. "What is it?"
"Enemy contacts! We have two, five, six . . . eight additional Estharian Flying Fortresses appearing all around our position! They're . . . ma'am, they're coming out of active camouflage!"
Quistis stood stock still for a moment, the horror of the words the technician had just stated sinking in fully. Everything, this entire battle, the six vulnerable enemy ships, the data they'd learned from Malachi, the Garden strike against Crell himself . . . all of it was . . . .
"It . . . it's a trap."
Holographic displays blazed to life around Squall, displaying the battle raging beyond. Squall turned, casting his eyeless gaze over the images, and watched with shock as indistinct shapes formed in the ocean surrounding the battling warships. In the midst of rippling waves, a series of massive shapes formed into existence, seeming to un-fade into view from nothing, surrounding the Gardens.
Eight massive Estharian Flying Fortresses, bristling with soldiers and weapons, encircled the warring Gardens, fully entrapping the three structures in a ring of a dozen Estharian war machines laden with over a hundred thousand enemy soldiers.
"Tsk-tsk," Crell stated with glee. "After all, Dincht only saw one of my hangar bays on that island, and thus saw only half of my Fortress fleet. You made a simple, terrible mistake in assuming those were the only Fortresses I had. And you made a greater mistake in trusting Malachi's seemingly innocuous words. You never realized that part of the plan with assaulting Trabia was to "leak" intelligence regarding the Dollet attack."
Squall turned back to Crell, matching his predatory eyes with his own emotionless, eyeless stare.
"I set you up, and you took the bait perfectly," Crell finished. "Four to three, Garden can handle. But can you battle a dozen enemy ships at once with your paltry army of SeeDs and normal troops?"
"It doesn't matter," Squall replied after a moment, and he slowly drew Lionheart, the glowing blade illuminating the darkened office more brightly than any hologram. "You die, and the game is over."
"Indeed," Crell replied. "That's why-"
Squall whirled, Lionheart flashing across and meeting a crystalline blade exactly like it as it dove in at his back, the blue and purple blades meeting and crossing. It took even Squall a moment to fully come to grips with the figure behind him, at the manic glee and madness in her twisted visage as she leapt back, issuing a sound somewhere between a hiss and a laugh.
"Illarra," Squall snarled, and he saw her eyes, which to his vision glowed brightly with blazing energy, a clear indicator of what the woman had done to herself.
"Squall," she cooed, her voice dripping with her blatant loss of sanity.
"-I've arranged for some entertainment," Crell finished as the blinded woman, now armed with Squall's own Zanshin sight, shot forward again, the SeeD Commander charging as well. Their blades impacted, a thunderbolt of light flashing across the chamber as the enemy Fortresses in the holograms surrounding them closed in for the kill.
-
Phew. That was very enjoyable! Finally, the saga of Blood of the Chimera is winding down, but its going to end with a flash! And trust me: there are still many twists left in this story. With only a few chapters left of Blood, what's going to happen? Will we see Serra unleash her powers? Will Alucard return to the fray? And what of Hyne? And naturally, can Garden fend off the full armies of Crell's legions?
We'll see. ;)
Sadly, however, I've been forced to discontinue shout-outs. The rules of the site prohibit their use. However, I will stillanswer general questions in my author's notes and I will get to answering peoples' reviews, for at least we now have that ability to answer signed reviews directly!
Ah, well. Until next chapter...