Soundtrack notes: I would recommend two tracks from FFVIII's own soundtrack here. For the deployment to Dollet, I would use "SeeD" (or whatever that music is that they use during briefings). Then, once the battle begins, switch to "Only a Plank between One and Perdition".
Chapter 8: Flashpoint
"Attention, all citizens of Dollet," blared the loudspeaker atop the humvee transport as it rolled down the street, flanked by a dozen Dollet soldiers. "The Dollet Ministry of Defense has issued a decree of martial law inside the city as of this point. All citizens are ordered to stop what you are doing and return to your homes until this order is rescinded. This is for your own safety. Please cooperate with Dollet and SeeD military forces until this situation is resolved. We repeat . . . ."
"Damn," Zell remarked as he rode in the passenger seat of Irvine's pickup truck. "They got this martial law thing set up fast."
"The military and police are already set up to engage martial law at any point, especially with the constant terror attacks," Irvine replied. "But still, I didn't expect them to get the ball rolling quite this fast."
Within fifteen minutes after getting the report that the Requiem was going to strike within the next hour, General Randolph had instantly mobilized the Dollet military garrison inside the city. Troops were now pouring through the streets, gently but urgently dispersing citizens and aggressively searching anyone who looked even remotely suspicious. SeeD had mobilized as well, and the black, blue, and gray uniforms of SeeD troops dotted the swarms of olive-clad Dollet soldiers. Checkpoints were being hastily set up and many soldiers were still mobilizing and receiving orders, but for having only half an hour after their orders had been issued, the Dollet army was moving remarkably swiftly and efficiently.
The pickup drove past a checkpoint and toward the center of the city, where Zell, along with Seifer and Squall, had been tasked with guarding the center of Dollet from Galbadian attack four years ago. Now it had rapidly begun the transformation to a forward command position, with General Randolph and his men setting up defensive positions and circling their humvees and troops, securing the area. Seifer was there as well, giving orders to the few SeeDs present. Quistis was still in Galbadia Garden, issuing hasty orders, and Rinoa had hurried to assemble her gear, and Squall had gone with her. No one was yet certain how their returned friend fit into the rank structure at that point; half of Garden still didn't have any idea he was still alive.
The two SeeDs exited the vehicle and walked through the Dollet soldiers as they hastily set up the command post. They could hear Randolph and Seifer's orders from the center of the plaza, and hurried through the sea of olive uniforms toward the pair.
"Good to see you two," Randolph grunted, peering over a map spread across a table. "We've established martial law across the whole city, though we've only got about ten percent locked down, and those with light forces. We'll need at least another hour to get everyone in place, even with the troops ready to mobilize."
"Got a job for us?" Zell asked, and Randolph nodded toward Seifer. The CITU commander shrugged.
"I'm putting together a quick strike team right now, though at the moment, its just you two and me. We're going to add Squall and Rinoa to the group once they arrive. If we get any word on the bomb's location or the Requiem, we move fast and take them down."
"Sounds good," Irvine replied, and he touched his left breast, remembering the icy pains he had felt. "But we may need more than that, especially after what we saw on that train. If we encounter Selphie or Malachi, or any escorts with the Requiem or the bomb . . . ."
"I've got more troops inbound, but resources are stretched thin," Seifer replied with a helpless shrug.
"What about Nash?" Zell asked, and Seifer shrugged again. The motion was becoming popular.
"Hell if I know," he relied. "I think he's still in Garden, though why I don't know yet. I think he's sticking around Serra, though. I've got a double reinforced SeeD bodyguard detail protecting her, though I should have brought her into the city to keep an eye on her myself."
"Bah, focus on the job, not on her ass, Seifer," Zell muttered, and the CITU commander's face flushed, with either anger or embarrassment. "Let's find this Illarra bitch and tear her head off, what do you say?"
Rinoa had been given SeeD officer's quarters in Galbadia Garden, which amounted to a small three-room apartment in the officers' dorms complex along the ship's bow. There, she gathered her combat gear and prepared her weapons for battle, and Squall was with her as she did so.
He watched her practiced hands move over the gunblade, checking, inspecting, and cleaning it with deft precision. Despite the urgency of the situation, Squall couldn't help but watch Rinoa prepare the Revolver for combat, with all the care and understanding that he had offered the blade when it had been his.
That she had taken the gunblade for herself did not bother Squall in the slightest; he understood why she had used it in his absence. The blade had been his personal weapon, built for him and by him, wielded by him in his formative years, and stained with the blood and sweat spilled in all the wars he had fought. The Revolver was not merely a gunblade; it was as much a part of Squall as any of his limbs, and to see Rinoa using it and honoring the weapon as such sent a rush of joy through him. When he had seen her wielding that weapon, Squall had all he could handle with stopping himself from pulling off the wide hat he had worn and scooping her into his arms.
As she was finishing her preparations for combat, Squall reached up and drew the long, slender claymore he now used. He stared down the length of the simple, thin sword, a weapon he had built himself to optimize his capability at iaijutsu. The sword did not have any embellishments, and only a simple, small cross-guard. The only thing notable about the sword was the thin, almost invisible black coating along the edges of the weapon, the ablative grooves that Nash had taught him to incorporate into the weapon, grooves that, when utilized correctly, could channel the energy of a Limit technique into them. Squall remembered the technique he had used to kill Griever in the alternate timeline, and he knew how to focus that power into his weapon, just like Nash could.
"When we fight Hyne," he had said, and Squall had not argued the "when" part, "the only question will not be whether we can kill her, but which of us will get to her first."
Rinoa finished loading the last concussive force shell, and flicked her wrist, causing the oversized revolving chambers to click into place in the gun aspect of the weapon. She looked up at Squall as she set the weapon on her desk, and started to don a black military watchcap to keep her hair under control. He smiled at her, still glad to see her, and then looked to the gunblade for a moment, casting his crimson gaze over it. He opened his mouth to speak, but she reached forward and grasped the weapon's handle. With a quick twist and flip, she gripped the gunblade by its flat and turned the handle to him.
"Just because you lost your eyes, died for a year, and now have glowey cyborg replacements doesn't mean I still can't read you like a book," she said with a smile of her own, and Squall managed a laugh. He reached forward, touching the handle of the gunblade, and gently took the Revolver from her hands. He gripped the handle tightly, feeling the solid weight n his hands, and slowly stood. He took a step back from her, gripping the gunblade in both hands. He raised the weapon into the typical formless guard he preferred. The SeeD waited in that stance for an instant, and then did his personal crossing slash salute, and rested the gunblade on his shoulder, before closing his eyes and taking a deep, cleansing breath.
"Its been way too long," he whispered. He opened his eyes, and looked to Rinoa. Mimicking her earlier motion, he flipped the gunblade over, and offered it to her, grip first. Rinoa stood and reached forward, taking the weapon from his hands.
"I'm glad you're using it now," he said to her, and she nodded, slowly sheathing the gunblade and strapping it to her hip and left leg. She picked up her sub-machinegun and slung it over her shoulder, and looked back up to him, even as he sheathed his own claymore. He reached down to pick up his hat, and looked toward her.
Squall Leonhart was a creature of both discipline and impulsive emotion, and at that moment, the latter part of his dual nature struck him. He let the hat drop, and reached forward, pulling Rinoa into his arms, and kissed her.
For an instant, she was frozen, and then reacted, pulling him in, pressing together, in a sudden release of emotion. While the meeting in the grove had been filled with shock and simple, basic joy, this was much more personal, more primal. The pent up desires that they had both felt since that meeting, finally released.
But even as they did so, both realized that they didn't have the time for this. They had to act, to stop Illarra. Passions and rekindled love would have to wait, and at almost the same time, Squall and Rinoa broke off, though both did so very reluctantly.
They pulled apart, and Squall, his eyes still closed, took another deep breath, savoring the moment before going to reenter battle.
Estharian cybernetic eyes had an unusual property: when they detected the eyelids closing, they ceased transmitting visual data, effectively blinding the user of the eyes. Thus it was that whenever his eyes were closed, Squall was blind, and could engage Zanshin sensory perception, and for this reason he could pull his bandana down over his eyes to engage the ability as well. Thus, in that moment, with his eyes closed, he was fully aware of his surroundings.
Rinoa found herself being shoved down to the floor and instant before something shattered through the window, a roaring projectile riding a screaming rocket propellant. Squall's sword flew out, and in a single precise motion, he sliced through the rocket-propelled grenade, severing the detonator from the explosive pack as he spun out of the missile's flight path. The grenade slammed through the door behind them and went careening through the hallways beyond for a few more moments before its fuel died out.
The rest of Galbadia Garden shuddered as a hundred more rocket-propelled grenades slammed into its hull, punching through windows, smashing into exterior buildings, and raising several various kinds of hell. Beyond the roaring rockets, a series of explosions ripped through the city of Dollet, followed by the sudden stuttering cacophony of blazing gunfire.
"What just-"
"They're attacking," Squall grunted, rushing to the window. He could see Dollet soldiers and SeeDs rushing about in the streets of the city, trading gunfire with men in plain clothes, men who were moving and dodging far too quickly to be normal humans.
"Coordinated assault?" Rinoa asked, and Squall shook his head. He rushed back to the desk his hat lay on and scooped it up, and checked his sword. Rinoa nodded, and he suddenly cut past her, rushing to the window.
"Garden's garage is aligned with the docks, right?" he asked, and she nodded.
"Yes, why?" she began to ask, and he spun around and gave her a quick kiss.
"Get moving. I need to get in there, and right now, especially if Illarra is making her move. I don't have time to wait." Squall took a step back, smiled, and then leapt out the window. Rinoa rushed after him,. And saw him plummet down, and jab his left hand out, the armored fingers on the gauntlet digging into the metal of the ship as he descended, slowing his drop. Moments later, Squall hit the deck, and ran toward the garage, now no more than fifty feet away.
He neared the garage, which was open, and several SeeD vehicles were moving out the entrance. Threading his way past them, Squall moved into the garage itself, and rapidly located his motorcycle, transported to Galbadia Garden when the Reaper had brought him and his comrades back. He hopped on board, and inserted a key into the ignition. The armor plated, jet-black bike roared to life, and he gunned the engine. The vehicle rolled out of the garage, and Squall brought it to an abrupt halt as a figure dropped down to the dock before him.
He blinked his cybernetic eyes, and watched as Rinoa jogged forward, sheathing her gunblade. He didn't need to look up to know that she had gouged a crease in the hull of the Garden while falling.
"You think you're going to run off and leave me again like that, and I'll break your kneecaps," she snorted as she hopped onto the bike, threading her hands around his waist. "Elemental or not."
"Fine," Squall said with a smile. "Hold on tight." The engine roared to life once more.
The motorcycle jetted out over the docks, threading between SeeD vehicles, and moved into the city as smoke started to rise from the warzone it was rapidly becoming.
She didn't remember everything, but the memories were starting to return to her, especially with the mask off, and that familiar voice speaking her name. Now, as she stood in the garage, one of the buildings being used by Crell's remaining insurgents as a safehouse and supply depot, she banished her efforts to remember who that man was, instead focusing on the situation at hand, which involved the rapid number of explosions she had heard outside.
"The attacks are underway," Malachi reported, walking around one of the vans in the garage, which was hastily being loaded with explosives. "All cells present are engaging the enemy as we speak. Your father's flash-mob assault tactic is working flawlessly."
"Good," Illarra replied as she finished donning a loose gray trenchcoat and put on a pair of sunglasses to cover her gouged eyes. The coat and the glasses would do well to hide her true nature until they were ready to make their move. "And the enemy themselves?"
"All engaged," he answered. "While we won't be completely unnoticed, the enemy's attention is being drawn toward about two hundred separate attacks and shootings across the city against their own forces. Three vans full of ordinary civilians won't be noted."
"Are our escorts ready?" she asked, and Malachi nodded.
"I've got several cars and motorcycles standing by along the way, along with about hundred additional troops on stand-by, ready to provide fire cover from buildings along our route. Once we get the bomb to the central square, we can detonate. The gas should infect over eighty percent of the city's populace in a matter of minutes."
"Timer is rigged as well," came a lighter voice from one of the vans, and the pair turned to see the diminutive form of Selphie Tilmitt round one of the vans. "If we can't get the bomb to the city center, we cans till set it off and take out a large percentage of the city population."
Illarra and Malachi nodded, neither of them considering, or even thinking, of that fact that a few months ago this woman would have been their enemy. Selphie's will was completely slaved toward the Requiem wearer's desire, and only that desire., and had been so since the day Crell had tested the Requiem's ability to control Elementals by capturing her. As long as Illarra lived, Selphie Tilmitt was her slave.
"Let's get moving," Illarra said, and Malachi, Selphie, and the Elemental soldiers present boarded the vans. The garage door slid open as the doors slammed shut and were securely locked, and the three unmarked vans rolled out of the building and into the chaotic streets of Dollet.
The first warning Seifer, Zell, and Irvine got that the attack was coming was when the eastern side of the city began to roar with the blasts of RPGs being fired. The second warning they got was when an RPG crashed into one of the humvees and blew it and the two soldiers next to it into mist and charred debris.
"Arpeegeeeee!" came a series of shouts, and the hissing roars of a half-dozen more missiles being loosed in a couple of seconds filled the plaza. Smoke trails criss-crossed over the position as grenades slammed into vehicles and detonated, turning the plaza in a hellish firestorm of burning humvees and flying debris. Dollet soldiers shouted in the swirling chaos, and gunfire erupted even before the last grenades had detonated, troops quickly calling out targets and returning fire.
Irvine, Zell, and Seifer were in the middle of the chaos, the sharpshooter with his rifle in hand and Seifer shouting over a radio at someone. Zell snatched up a radio from a table and put it in his ear, and a stream of shouts and reports, dozens of soldiers all across the city, assaulted his ears even as he became distantly aware that Irvine's rifle was firing behind him.
"Fireteam Delta we have casualties in checkpoints A-5 through A-7, need medivac-" "Two KIA, vehicles burning, request reinforcements-" "-under fire under fire! Three contacts, second floor-" "-two down, one more escaping into the alley-" "RPG in the hotel down the street, someone take it out-" "Bravo Two-One, contact, taking fire from three unmarked vans with vehicular escorts-"
Zell blinked, and quickly checked that frequency. He zeroed in on Fireteam Bravo, a unit setting up in the north side of the city, and called up their frequency. He shut out the sounds of battle, which were dying down after the initial RPG blitz.
"Bravo, this is CITU Command, repeat that last," Zell ordered. Seifer looked up at Zell as he said that, frowning for a second, but not protesting Zell's assertion. Battlefield protocol was fine, but they needed to move, fast.
"SeeD, this is Bravo Three, we have contact. Three unmarked white vans. Tried to stop them but took fire from unidentified vehicular escorts and hostiles in buildings."
"Where are these vans?" Zell asked quickly, and Seifer took note of that word, and tuned into the frequency.
"North end of the city, near checkpoint B-12. Lost track of them after that, they pulled out fast once the bullets started flying."
"Hold position Bravo," Seifer ordered. "That's our target. Good job." Seifer looked up at Zell and Irvine, who was reloading his rifle. "We got them. Those vans have to be our target."
"Then what the hell just happened?" Irvine asked, and Seifer shook his head.
"Aggressive assault and distraction, nothing more. They're trying to tie up as much of the military as they can. We have to stop them."
"Right on!" Zell said, punching a fist in the air. Irvine nodded as Seifer looked to where Randolph was helping drag a wounded soldier to a medic, even while shouting orders over his radio.
"General, we've got something," Seifer called. Randolph looked up as Seifer hurried over to him. "We've located the aerosol bomb. A convoy of unmarked white vans in the north end of the city, with armed escorts. They fired on a checkpoint and busted through. It has to be them."
"Then all this is simply a distraction," Randolph snarled, and handed the fallen soldier to the care of the medic. He immediately started issuing new orders over the radio. "All units, keep an eye out for three unmarked white vans, with vehicular escort. These are priority targets. Repeat, three unmarked vans with escort, priority targets!" He turned toward Seifer, Irvine, and Zell, only to see them already in motion, running toward Irvine's pickup. Seifer broke off and rushed toward a Dollet soldier standing beside a scout motorcycle, and with a quick gesture of rank, took the soldier's vehicle.
"Arrange some back-up for us!" Seifer ordered as Zell jumped into the pickup's bed and Irvine engaged the engine. "We'll do what we can to take them down ourselves!"
Serra hadn't been notified of the coming attack, which was understandable; Garden and Dollet had barely had time to mobilize themselves. Thus, she was standing in the central plaza of Galbadia Garden, looking up at the memorial erected in its center, a wrought steel statue showing the combined national symbols of Dollet, Esthar, Galbadia, and Garden, each draped with its respective flag. The structure stood in the center of the pillar of light that shone down in the heart of the Garden, a monument to those who valiantly died that day over a year ago, all fighting for causes they most fervently believed in.
She wondered how much blood had stained the deck she stood upon, and how many men had died in this one room. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she also wondered how many of those men she had killed in her attack.
Then Garden shook, and the vibrations caused Serra to almost lose her balance. She toppled backward, and was caught in a pair of strong arms. She looked up, to see Nash holding her. The scientist helped her stand back up to her feet, even as alarms filled the Garden.
"What happened?" she asked, and he shook his head, and looked around the plaza, as SeeDs started running in all directions.
"They made their move," Nash responded, and Serra blinked.
"Who made their move?' she asked, and he shrugged.
"Not important now. I'm sure Squall can handle it."
Serra frowned, and started to move past him, toward the entrance to Galbadia Garden.
"I'm going to go see-" she began, but Nash's arm shot out and caught her by the elbow, stopping her in her tracks. Serra turned and looked back toward him, and saw a gentle and concerned expression on his normally cold and impassive features.
It was only then that she saw the gunblade strapped to his waist, the exact same design and location as her father's old weapon.
" . . . who are you?" she asked, and he released her arm, closed his eyes, and slowly shook his head.
"A revenant. All that remains of that world that Ultimecia destroyed at Hyne's bidding." Her eyes widened as she caught the meaning in his words.
"You're-"
He opened his eyes, and stared at Serra.
"I am not your father, and you are not my daughter. I was born with the name Squall, but he died when Rinoa died and was replaced by Ultimecia. I am Nash, and everything that has happened in this world for the last hundred years has been my fault."
Serra listened to his confession, uncertain what to say, but riveted to the spot as he continued to explain.
"In the world I came from, Centra had developed the technology to remove aging from the human body. I used that research for myself when I knew that I wouldn't live long enough naturally to kill Hyne or the monster Rinoa had become. And when time was compressed and remade, I was sent to this timeline . . . Only a hundred years ago, to Centra."
"If you were in Centra, and you know the Chimera . . . ."
"Yes. I was the scientist who created the Chimera. I knew who would eventually give birth to Squall Leonhart: the same parent who Centra tested their anti-aging gene treatments on. My mother."
"But why would you do that . . . To your own parents and your family?"
"Why else?" Nash asked, gritting his teeth. The exact same reason I'm here with you. So I can kill Hyne. Either Nash kills her, or Squall does. Either way, Rinoa and my world are avenged."
"Wait," she said as he spoke. "Hyne is going to show up here?"
"Naturally. You don't get it, do you, Serra? Why Hyne wants you? Why you're so important?" He shook his head. "Its pretty simple, isn't it? You were created specifically to absorb magic, Serra. You absorb energy, and for the last four years of your life you've been doing that, gathering magical energy into your body. That's why SeeD can't cast magic anymore; you've drawn so much of it into yourself that normal casting is impossible. You've neared critical mass, Serra, and Hyne knows this."
"You mean I'm-"
"A walking magical time bomb set to blow a hole in the universe straight to Carpasia."
Nash and Serra whirled, and Hyne's giggle filled the suddenly very still plaza.
"Oh yeah, baby," Hades remarked as he stood beside Hyne, grinning like a predator, ready to strike. "Somebody has set you up the bomb, and all your bases so are belong to us."
-
Another relatively short chapter, that sets things up for the final confrontations. Not much tos ay about this, though Hades' line at the end came to me out of nowhere, and I knew I had to put it in there . . . because its so Hades.
So, anyway. the real battles begin next chapter. So, in that case . . . .
Until next chapter . . . .