Chapter 7

Departures

Thalassa flicked to the end of Combat King, which she had purchased at the market that morning, putting it down with a sigh. She had already finished Weapons Monthly. She looked to the complimentary magazines on the shelf but was not particularly interested in old issues of Occult Fan or engineering magazines.

Gerra was watching his third film of the afternoon, this one a classic western set in rural Dollet, following the collapse of the Holy Dollet Empire. He was mostly silent, moving to the balcony every hour or so to smoke. He had told her live broadcasts did not exist in his time, that they had holographic videos and lots of live entertainment instead. Like the coliseums. Although he had seemed content to stare at the flatscreen for the last few hours.

Thalassa still found it hard to process that Gerra was from the future. That he had been the Knight of the same Sorceress that had killed her father, albeit a future version of her. Though as her father had once jumped across time, she could accept it more readily than most.

She had changed her mind about room service. Not wanting to risk causing a ruckus again, they were currently waiting for a pizza from downstairs. Thalassa was not worried about those rude fishermen, thinking it unlikely they would admit to any inquisitive Esthar soldiers about being dropped by a single woman. Unless they wanted a break in tariffs for information about possible SeeDs, she thought.

Once they had finished the pizza and the credits to the film were rolling, with an inset picture of the hero riding a chocobo into the sunset, Thalassa took some cards from her pocket and asked, 'Do they still play Triple Triad in your time?'

Gerra grinned broadly. 'Of course! The rare cards are pretty sought after in the ruins of old cities. I didn't bring my cards with me, though.'

She split her deck. They agreed to play with White SeeD rules and no wagers. After losing several games in a row, Gerra admitted defeat and smoked his last cig. Thalassa got in the shower, taking her time after rubbing the concealer from the left side of her face. Not travelling with any spare clothes – she had left them on the trawler – she emerged from the bathroom in the hotel-issue bathrobe, her hair wrapped in a towel.

Gerra looked surprised at the tribal tattoo on the left side of her face, which she knew looked more subtle from the front.

'When my dad was killed, Ultimecia had his severed head paraded on their state news,' she explained. 'This tattoo, like his last name, is well known in Esthar.'

Gerra nodded with understanding. 'I like it,' he said. 'Gives you a razor edge.'

The White SeeD was laying silently on the top bunk when Gerra came out of the shower, wearing just a towel. His torso was muscular but heavily scarred, and he had several tattoos himself, mostly tribal. The most curious of his tattoos was on his left bicep, an image of a light-haired man wearing a bandana, but she could not make out the lettering underneath. As Gerra sat on his bunk, the towel ended up on the floor and Thalassa guessed he was intending to sleep naked.

'Sleep well,' was all he said, and slowed his breathing.

The alarm on her phone woke them at first light. Thalassa suggested they pay the fee for the hotel breakfast, as the food would be of better variety than on the trawler. Gerra happily obliged. With her hair back into pigtails and her facial tattoo once again concealed, they made their way downstairs.

Between mouthfuls of sausages and hash browns, Gerra mentioned that he had hidden his weapon in an alley upon arriving in FH. He wanted to grab it before they went to the harbour. Giving some time to let their food settle, they ventured out and went into the alley at the side of the hotel. Gerra led the way through the network of alleys behind the Stretch, trying to rack his brain for the way he had entered FH, ignoring the rousing homeless and any stray cats.

He entered an alley he thought he recognised but could not see the broken cavity wall. Then he heard a grunt and saw a massive shape heading for him. He backed up, crashing into Thalassa as he did.

It was Leo, his obsidian gunblade now split into two, both weapons pointed at Gerra. His armour and cloak were gone, as he would have looked like a relic from a bygone era walking around FH with such an attire. His mohican was covered with a scraggy hat.

Gerra drew his dagger, but knew it was pitiful in comparison to the two halves of Harbinger. As Leo's armour was gone, Gerra tried to get in close after dodging a forehand stroke, but the big man was too fast. Leo struck his head with the hilt of one gunblade, making Gerra stagger against a crumbling wall, and immediately made to follow with a backhand.

It would have been a deathblow, but an emerald-green shape hit Leo like a battering ram. The big man ended up on the filthy ground up several yards away, but swiftly got back to his feet.

'Leo, right?' Thalassa said

The White SeeD resonated with the emerald-green aura of Carbuncle and held a tanto in her right hand. Leo only grunted in response. Although the odds were now against him, he started toward the Thalassa without hesitation. In response, she extended her free hand toward him. There was a sharp flash of ruby light. Leo gave a sound of pain and dropped both weapons, putting his hands to his eyes and staggering back.

Thalassa raised her curved dagger and was about to pounce forward when Gerra grabbed her arm and firmly shook his head. 'Let's go!' he urged. They bolted back the way they had come, not stopping until they were near the hotel. Leo had not followed. After they had caught their breath, Gerra said, 'Let's just get on the fucking boat.'

He would have to procure another weapon, for now. But he had used Hyperion since he had been big enough to wield arms. Using another blade, or even another gunblade, would seem very alien to him.

Thalassa led the way down the jetty, stopping at a dilapidated side-winder trawler called the Ross Torama. A man with short brown hair and an untrimmed beard looked down at them as they reached port side, smoking a hand-rolled cigarette. He was around Gerra's own age.

'Lassa! I should've known you would pick up!' the trawlerman said cheerily. 'Who's the lucky fella?'

Thalassa rolled her eyes. 'Shut up, George. He's a SeeD.'

'I thought you were here for intel?'

'Need to know, George,' Thalassa replied, then asked, 'Are you okay to take him with us?'

'I guess so. As long as he earns his keep.' He stubbed the thin cigarette butt into a standing ashtray, seemingly mindful of pollution, and offered Gerra his hand as they walked onto the boat. 'George Peterson. I'm the skipper.'

'Gerra,' he returned, taking George's hand in a firm grip.

Gerra had never been on a large fishing vessel before. It was about forty yards long and eight yards wide, the once black hull faded to a dark grey. The bridge and cabin were a rusty white.

An elderly crewman amidships gave him a stare as Thalassa led him along the promenade deck to a hatch beyond the bridge. They passed the mess hall on their right and reached a cabin at the end of a hallway.

'You can have the top bunk this time,' she said. 'My stuff's underneath the bottom one.'

The White SeeD knelt to pull out a backpack and spent some time going through her gear.

'We're gonna be on this trawler for several days. They're sailing west to fish between here and Timber, but they'll be dropping us somewhere near Cedar, on the Timber coast. Timber is occupied territory, but there's a SeeD named Damian working with the Forest Fox. He can help us get across the border to Galbadia. We can hire a car or a chocobo in the south to speed up the journey to Galbadia City.'

After leaving port, the vessel approached the Esthari patrols. Thalassa had hidden their two daggers under an empty bunk's mattress that also hid a curved gunblade. Gerra assumed it belonged to her.

Thalassa explained that after the new naval production facility in FH had been constructed, there had been a shortage of workers on the trawlers. Spending weeks away from home, especially during the colder months, was naturally seen as less desirable employment among FH's younger generation. Therefore, hiring last minute deckhands was not uncommon. Looking through a porthole, Gerra could see a disinterested looking Esthari sailor looking at George's manifest and waving him on.

'So, what's in this for George? Does he help many other SeeDs?' Gerra asked.

'His grandfather was one of the founding fathers of FH, murdered along with the Mayor and the rest for resisting Esthar's invasion over fifteen years ago. The politicians here were pacifists but would not agree to the annexation.' She paused. 'Ultimecia believed that as the settlement's founders were originally from Esthar, FH should naturally be part of the Empire. They had no military or self-defence force to oppose her. When the leaders refused to swear fealty, they were publically executed.'

Gerra gave no outward expression. 'I see. FH was mostly reclaimed by the sea in the future. Over time, the naval production facility polluted the surrounding waters, and it was abandoned.'

Thalassa continued. 'George told me that he met Squall Leonhart after Balamb Garden crashed into FH. Apparently, Squall was wandering around after the Galbadians left. He went out of his way to speak to George, which was unlike him, urging him to take his fishing lessons more seriously and gain his grandpa's respect. Garden's music festival at the Sun Dish was one of George's happiest childhood memories. He's the leader of the resistance movement here, and he always helps SeeD when he can.'

As Gerra gazed out of the porthole, the number of ships gradually decreased as they moved into the open ocean.

'Gerra, why did you stop me from killing Leo?'

Gerra exhaled slowly, wishing he had more cigarettes. 'Despite his motivations, Leo's an honourable man; I wouldn't see him killed in such a manner. I've often suspected he wanted to serve as Ultimecia's Knight. But he was groomed for command early, and one cannot enter the tournament over a certain age. He's one of the finest warriors of my era; matched only by myself, Vargas Zebalga and the Red Reaver,' he reflected. 'I brought Leo back here, Thalassa. I'll kill him, myself.' he vowed.

'But you said it would be bad if he makes contact with Ultimecia!'

'It would, but I'm not sure how much he would be able to change, in reality. I would assume that he couldn't just walk up to Esthar's border and demand an audience with her. Ultimecia achieved world domination in my time, so he'll know not to interfere with her battle plans. Also, he lost his GF when we came back, as I lost mine. He may decide the better option is to pursue me, instead.'

Thalassa looked surprised. 'You had a GF?'

'I had two, actually,' Gerra said. 'As Ultimecia's Knight, I could choose any that I wanted. She had the most powerful, Eden, and it's said that only a Sorceress can junction with an Elder GF. I opted for Ifrit and Phoenix; the two halves of Rubicante. Leo was permitted to junction with Bahamut as the head of imperial forces. Vargas was allowed to keep Tiamat, being the sole Praetorian to survive the battle against Omega. All of the other GFs have spent centuries in stasis, their life force siphoned for energy in a harsh world. They were only called upon when Omega emerged, or when a Lunar Cry struck Timber.'

Gerra took out the two magicite crystals he had put into his pocket before, clear and lifeless.

'The idea of a GF being willingly junctioned with a mortal amazes me. Rest assured that I only ever called on my GFs in great need. Of which there was very little, save for when I encountered the Red Reaver, or was ambushed by Edea's… by White SeeDs. Remind me to throw these overboard,' he said, putting the crystals on the bedside table. 'So, how did you come to be junctioned with Carbuncle?'

Smiling faintly, Thalassa said, 'When we were docked in south-western Centra a few years ago, we were tracking some deer in the forest where the Battle of the Gardens took place. Leading the hunt, I found Carbuncle fleeing from some Esthari cyborgs. They don't tire, and can't be detected by GFs the way we can. We set an ambush and destroyed them.

'Carbuncle told us that Sorceress Jadis – Edea's predecessor – had imprisoned him inside a petrified iguoin on the Arch of Triumph, a thousand years ago. The iguoins were reanimated by Edea the night Vinzer Deling was killed. Squall and Irvine's GFs detected Carbuncle inside one of the iguoins that attacked them, and they drew him out. Carbuncle junctioned with Rinoa until she fell into a coma after the Battle of the Gardens. He remained in the forest after that. He was happy to junction with me and see the world from the White SeeD Ship, as long as I kept him safe from Esthar.

'Anyway, I think it's safe to go back on deck. It's about time I introduced you to the rest of the crew.'

Tyris Almasy approached the checkpoint on the railroad bridge. She was known within the imperial forces as Lieutenant Pandemona, having given her surname as a corrupted form of her mother's GF's name when taken into slavery. 'Pandemona' being what she had called the unusually constructed wind-elemental GF when first learning to talk.

Held magnetically at her lower back was her extendable halberd, and she had two gladiuses sheathed above it. There was a standard issue plasma pistol – or plaz – holstered at her thigh, and a dagger sheathed over her left breastplate.

This would be her second major campaign in the war, after the annexation of Timber. And Dollet, Tyris supposed, but that one had hardly been opposed. Taking advantage of Dollet's resentment of Galbadia, Reina had convinced the Dollet Dukedom to allow her forces to land on the Hasberry Plains, promising them autonomy in her empire only if they allied with her against Galbadia. With SeeD a shadow of its former self, Dollet knew that it could not hope to stand against Reina's forces and reluctantly agreed. However, as soon as the imperials were in a strategic position, they marched straight for Dollet City and annexed the duchy.

Naturally, Reina had turned her attention to Timber, launching a full invasion from north, south, and east within weeks. Largely at the insistence of his daughter, Sorceress Rinoa, Fury Caraway committed Galbadia to the conflict for the first time, declaring war on Esthar. Though this had been more to test the aptitude of his military after eighteen years of rebuilding than out of concern for Timber. Timber, no stranger to foreign invasion, performed superbly against a vastly superior force. But the distrust of its old enemy, Galbadia, divided the opposition to Esthar, who seized the capital within weeks. Ultimately, Timber surrendered and Galbadia retreated beyond its borders.

Tyris had spilled much blood in Timber. Having 'captured' Ramuh at the Thunder Plains of Centra two years before, she was pushed to the vanguard and had been involved in every major battle; Redwood, Timber City, and the many skirmishes in the once vast forests between. She had encountered Thalassa during the Battle of Redwood, the first time she had met her childhood friend since the night she was taken, and almost killed her. But, separated from her unit, Tyris had been able to spare the White SeeD.

Lieutenant Pandemona had impressed the Empress and the upper echelons of command during the campaign. Presently nineteen years of age, she was on course to become the youngest woman to ever achieve the rank of Lieutenant Colonel in their military. Now privier to sensitive information, Tyris had been able to start leaking information to Thalassa.

Walking with Tyris was her superior officer, Colonel Selena Vlahos. Selena was more than ten years her senior and was the one who had headhunted her from those hellish mines, several years before. The Colonel was one of her only friends within the Empire. Born into a military family before the Lunar Cry, Selena's grandfather Odysseus had been High Commander of Adel's forces in the First Sorceress War. Her father, Tiberius, had been an esteemed commissioned officer during the early years of the Third, killed during the Battle of Balamb. Selena was a patriot, respected as a gallant warrior on both sides of the war.

Selena was around the same height as Tyris, at five six. She had naturally blonde hair, a square jaw and an old scar running down one cheek. The Colonel was broadly built, with powerful legs and defined arms emphasised by the formfitting bodysuit. Although not visible beneath her green and black armour, she had firm pectorals rather small breasts.

Her weapon of choice was a double-bladed sword, that could be separated in the middle to be dual-wielded, both wide blades about eighteen inches long. At her neck was the golden magicite containing her demi-GF of the same colour, Boko. The Golden Chocobo had been captured by Reina before her ascension, when she had 'treated' with the Grandidi forest tribes.

Behind the two officers were five hundred Esthar soldiers from the FH barracks, all excelling in cold weather training, handpicked by Selena for the imminent invasion of northern Trabia. Most of them were happy to oblige, to break the monotony of patrolling FH, where nothing much happened. Save for that nasty business at the Sun Dish two nights ago.

The checkpoint consisted of a dozen cyborgs and two human soldiers. The first man was leaning against the rail of the bridge, and slowly snapped to attention as they got nearby. The second was in a grounded aerial pod, smoking and not even looking up from a pornographic magazine he had his nose in.

Tyris had never liked the cyborgs. Their empty gazes were on her and Selena as they stood motionless, their stubby, double-edged gunblades held firmly in both hands.

'Is the train ready, Private?' Selena demanded of the standing soldier.

'Yes, ma'am,' he returned nervously. 'Ten carriages, as per your orders, Colonel.'

At the sound of Selena's commanding voice, the sentry in the pod looked up with an expression of annoyance more than anything. He dropped the magazine and climbed out, giving an unenthusiastic salute.

With lightning quickness, Selena drew a plaz and fired at him. The Private did not even have his projectile shield turned on, so confident in the soulless cyborgs to his left. The light-blue plasma ball passed within an inch of his left ear, flying over the railing and eventually petering out somewhere over the ocean. The cyborgs, with their IFF installed, did nothing.

'Not even close to good enough, Private!' Selena admonished. 'It's not wise to place too much faith in these metal morons. What if I were a SeeD, or a Garland, wearing this armour? There will be no cyborgs where we're going! I hope you like the cold, Private! You're coming with us!' She gestured to the retinue over her shoulder.

The wide-eyed private did not move, but when it became clear the Colonel was not jesting, he stuttered, 'Y-yes, ma'am!' He ran, humiliated, through the line of laughing soldiers. Tyris was also amused, but her steely reserve won over, as usual. Selena turned back to the other soldier. She was about to speak when there were cries from behind her. When Tyris looked, she saw a huge man was attempting to get through.

'I wish to speak with your CO!' they heard him shouting.

'Let him through!' Selena ordered, and the retinue parted.

The man was very tall, well over six foot, and powerfully built. He had a mohican and a couple of days growth on a broad face. His eyes looked bloodshot, with deep bags underneath. There were two large, dark grey gunblades sheathed behind his back, and his huge arms were swinging rhythmically by his sides, forced outward by his massive back.

He stopped several paces from them, looking at each of them and the magicite at their necks. Apparently noticing that Selena had two more stripes on her uniform, he remained looking at her, speaking in an accent Tyris thought sounded vaguely Centran.

'Good afternoon, ma'am. My name is Leonidas Christophe. At the barracks, they informed me that you were recruiting for a coming campaign in Trabia. I'm a mercenary; I wish to serve in your auxiliary.'

Selena nodded, looking him up and down. 'You will definitely be appreciated. Have you ever been to the far north, Christophe?'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'Where might you be from?'

'Centra, ma'am. My people are nomads, but I was sent to Galbadia Garden when I was a child.'

Tyris spoke for the first time in a while, and Christophe did not seem perturbed by her youth. 'Are you a Garland?'

Following a series of humiliating defeats by SeeD before and during the Second Sorceress War, Fury Caraway had seen the need to create a force capable of rivalling the elite mercenary organisation, as Reina had done with the Adel Unit. Garland was born, comprised of the finest Galbadian special forces members and the most promising cadets from Galbadia Garden. After twenty years Garland had proven its worth behind enemy lines and during the battles of Timber. Its members were respected by both SeeD and the Adel Unit, and vice versa.

Leo shook his head, 'No, ma'am. I left before Garland was founded, driven out when Sorceress Edea came to power. I opted for mark hunting and bodyguarding as opposed to service in Galbadia's military.'

Apparently satisfied, Selena said, 'Welcome aboard, Christophe.' She turned to the rest of her force. 'Okay, people! Move like you have a purpose!'