A/N: Okay, so I was a little late getting this posted. Missing deadlines FTL, but I had some important business in real life to take care of this weekend. Also, I wanted to devote as much time as I could to this chapter, for reasons you'll discover as you read. Chapter XIII is going to be quite the long wait, folks, and I apologize in advance. Also, I STILL HATE THE DOCUMENT EDITOR. If anything looks weird, it's because the editor enjoys making my life difficult.

The full moon and Felix's glowing cigarette provided just enough light for him to study the eleven men in front of him. Stains of sweat and dirt covered their muted gray coveralls; their sleeves were rolled up to the elbow. In their arms sat Al-Bhed assault rifles, ribbed magazines sticking out of stamped metal receivers. He took the cigarette from his mouth. "Rock 'n' roll; control drill! Fire!" Their rifles chattered in unison, spent casings tinkling to the ground in a brass cascade. Harsh light from muzzle flashes reflected off the falling shells and played over the jungle. Felix's night vision shattered in an instant. Rounds punched through steel drums set up several meters away, whining off into the brush, snapping twigs and hissing through leaves.

"You want me to do what, now?"

Wedge sat forward in his chair. "I want to you help re-train the Besaid Crusaders."

"Again!"

"Re-train?" Felix blew smoke at the ceiling. "What's wrong with your training now?"

"You said it yourself: swords aren't going to help us against the Al-Bhed. In Besaid, the Crusaders' job has always been to defend Lady Yuna. We don't have the training to deal with these new threats."

"You fuckers make me sick," he barked. "Move up!"

"We've got some machina we captured from the Al-Bhed in the past weeks. Can you train us to use 'em?"

Another cloud of smoke issued from his mouth. "You want the Besaid Crusaders to be a kind of Special Forces or something?"

"If that's what they called it where you come from, then yes."

The line edged its way forward, their rifles still barking.

"It ain't gonna be fun."

"Reload!"

The firing ceased as eleven new magazines slammed home.

"Didn't count on it."

"Drop!"

"One more thing."

"Shoot."

"I want you to stay on with us, as an honorary Crusader. I'll put you in as a sergeant – that's right under me, by the way, but I'm not gonna breathe down your neck. I hate to admit it," Wedge added with a shake of his head, "but you're better at this job than me. We could use a guy like you."

Felix replaced the cigarette in his mouth. He felt, rather than heard, rocks and sticks shift under his feet as he moved closer to the line. The firing of the prostrate men in front of him became more sporadic, but the pings became more regular. "Recover!"

"You know I have a contract with Yuna."

"Protecting Yuna is the Besaid Crusaders' main focus, now and always. It's off the record, and Luca won't hear of it, but it's what we do. Whenever a Summoner is born, the Crusaders from that city are more loyal to them than to Spira. Yuna's like family on this island. To the point, your position as Crusader Sergeant won't interfere with your contract."

Felix crossed his arms. "Move left!"

"What's the catch?"

"If we're deployed, we'll have to ask you to come."

A predatory grin jumped onto Felix's face. "I call that a bonus."

"Move right!"

"How long do you think it'll take?"

Felix sighed. "If you give me twenty hours a day… a week."

"Safe 'em!" He looked behind him and noticed pink and orange fingers of light peeking through the foliage. The sun was now rising on day seven.

He turned away from the sunrise, the bright light drilling through thin clouds and into the frigate's cockpit. "Almost time, syda."

Sig looked up from his book. "Is it?"

"Yep." Higa dropped into the bucket seat next to the older man and laughed. He ran his hands over the control panel in front of him. "This one handles like a piece of shit, syda."

"Regardless, we could not take our airship on this foray."

"Don't see why the fuck not," Higa grunted. "Ain't like anyone's gonna live long enough to rat."

"You know as well as I do that fact is irrelevant."

"Whatever." He pulled his machina from a holster at his side and twirled it around his finger. "So she's really going to be there?"

Sig pointed to an aquamarine sphere resting on the armrest of the captain's chair. "According to the intelligence we were given, yes. Lady Yuna will be on the island for another few hours. I do not think you will need that," he added, with a gesture at the spinning pistol.

Higa grinned and stroked the control panel again. "Sluggish or not, this thing's got some serious teeth."

"Indeed."

"I checked the stores before we left, syda – this bucket's carryin' enough ammo to level that island. There's no way she's walking away from this one."

"Despite her remarkable propensity for survival, I must agree with you. It would be quite impossible for Lady Yuna to be in large enough pieces to place into a grave after the attack."

Higa laughed. "Music to my ears, syda." He looked at the three-dimensional map rotating above the controls, tapped the image of a small island, and then sank back into his seat. He swung his legs onto the console. "Gonna be a good show. Kick my ass out the seat at five 'til, syda. This is one party I don't wanna miss."

Yuna pulled her knees up to her chest and sighed.

"Yuna, how long have you been out here?"

She turned around, a tired smile on her face. "A couple of hours. I think they're almost done down there, but I don't want to intrude."

Lulu sat down beside her friend. In the jungle below, a number of figures in gray uniforms sat around a pair of shirtless men. The first man lashed out with a flashing knife, only to be flipped around and slammed onto his back by the second. The sounds of laughter and applause echoed up to where Lulu and Yuna sat. "Felix and Wedge seem to be enjoying themselves."

Yuna nodded. "He's not holding back like he did with me," she observed. "I hope nobody gets hurt. Did they take any potions with them?"

"Not that I know of."

"Felix stopped by the village for some gauze the other day." Yuna frowned. "I can't believe he uses that for the wounds he gets."

Lulu chuckled. "Those two are positively insane."

"I'm sure," Yuna laughed. Her expression became more serious. "The Council met again yesterday."

Lulu frowned. "They didn't call you?"

"They aren't required to, unless a decision is being made or one of mine is being challenged."

"At least they aren't challenging anything you've decided."

"Not yet," Yuna said. "But the potential is definitely there."

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't have many friends in the Council, Lulu. Maester Getta of Besaid will stand by me, of course, but Maester Nayla is pushing hard for action against the Al-Bhed."

"Still?"

Yuna brushed her hair out of her eyes. "The Council already has a grudge against the Al-Bhed," she said. "This just gives them more leverage." She looked up at Lulu, an expression of genuine worry on her face. "Lulu, I'm on very thin ice right now."

Lulu wrapped her arm around Yuna. "I'm sure everything will work out, Yuna. You've faced crises worse than this. Besides, you're not alone – Wakka and I are always here for you."

She smiled. "I know." Her eyes wandered away from Lulu, back onto the men wrestling in the jungle below. "I know."

Felix blew a cloud of smoke into the jungle. "Congrats," he said. "We're done." A ragged cheer went up from the eleven gray-clad men in front of him. Wedge, standing next to Felix, wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth and grinned. Felix lifted his hand. "Shut the fuck up, idiots; I'm not done. Like I said, we're done retraining. You're all certified on handguns and carbines now, as well as close combat. That gives you a leg up on the rest of the Crusaders, but you've got a helluva ways to go. Don't go out there and start acting like el mas chingon just yet.

As per your new orders, you will all be issued one assa- one automatic machina, and one semiautomatic sidearm. The sidearm does not leave your side under any circumstances. I don't care if you're pounding your woman through a mattress; that gun stays within reach."

A few hands raised, and Felix crossed his arms. "I don't remember saying it was question and answer time."

The hands lowered.

He tapped a length of ash onto the grass. "Like I said, you all're set apart now. Wedge and I decided that just being bad motherfuckers was too difficult for you, so there's been another uniform change."

Wedge nodded. "The coveralls are standard now."

"But that ain't it," Felix grinned. He reached into a crate at his feet and produced a dark red beret. "Here's the new issue headwear," he said, tossing it into the crowd. Someone – Biggs, I think – grabbed it out of the air and put it on. Felix tucked a beret into his vest and slid the crate towards the other Crusaders with his foot.

As the soldiers each retrieved their beret, Wedge and Felix began the long walk back to the village. "Goddamn," Wedge sighed. "Hundred and forty hours of training crammed into a week. Worst. Idea. Ever."

Felix stuck another cigarette in his mouth. "Damn straight," he said. "Got a light?"

"Here." He handed Felix a small matchbook.

"Thanks." Felix puffed a few times to ensure a good light before tossing the spent match into a large lagoon. "Tired?"

Wedge grinned. "You?"

"Fuckin' A."

"Same."

Felix blew a cloud of smoke into the sky. "Can I ask you something?"

"Just did."

"Don't be a prick; I'd hate for you to have an accident before we get back. I just wanna know whose stupid-ass ideathese berets were."

Wedge raised an eyebrow. "Mine. What's wrong with berets?"

"Nothing, if you enjoy having the sun glaring in your face and standing out like a pretty maroon bulls-eye. The damn things are good for parade dress, and nothing else."

"What would you have rather had?"

"Nothing."

"See, if you don't have a better idea-"

"That was my idea. Standing out in a fight is not smart, especially if the enemy might be low on ammo. That beret looks mighty like rank to a sniper."

"Wearing the berets is required, Sergeant." Wedge grinned. "Unless you'd rather be Private Diesel."

Felix snugged his beret onto his head. "I'll take looking like a tool over scrubbing your shit with my toothbrush anyday," he laughed. "But I'm taking this damn thing off the instant I get home."

"Not my bitch. You don't have to wear the coveralls."

"That's right," he said. "Lieutenant." Goddamn, but it feels weird using rank again. Felix stopped referring to people by rank the instant he signed his papers with Blacktip – hell, he even refused to use military discounts unless it was for cigarettes. His last year of Army service as Staff Sergeant DiMarco – and a subsequent military tribunal - left a bitter taste in his mouth. Blacktip did away with ranks; experience spoke louder than nifty little badges.

Not that he had a shortage of nifty little badges. His old dress jacket and forest green beret held their fair share of sniper bait – a pair of bronze stars and a purple heart came to mind, as well as his jump wings and the Special Forces beret flash – but they hung, disused, in the back of Felix's Chicago closet. His pride in his military achievements disappeared the instant he stood before the tribunal. Felix still couldn't smell starched cotton without memories of that day tying his guts in a knot.

At least they gave me a 'general discharge', instead of a nifty little red stamp of 'dishonorable' on my jacket(1).

Wedge flashed another grin and interrupted Felix's reflection. "Looks like we had an audience today," he said, pointing over his shoulder at a wooden bridge spanning a waterfall. On the bridge, Felix could make out the distinct outlines of two women, one of whom appeared stacked like nobody's business.

"The hell's Lulu doing out here?"

He shrugged. "Just wants to watch sweaty guys climb all over each other."

"Perv."

"Lulu?"

Felix kicked a low branch aside and laughed. "You, Lieutenant Sonuvabitch."

Another grin. "Looks like Lulu's got company."

He squinted. "Yuna, too?"

"Yep."

He blew a cloud of smoke at the bridge. "How long they been up there?"

"Yuna's been there for two or three hours now; I don't know when Lulu showed up. Just there to watch us grapple, I guess."

"Just watch you get smacked around, you mean."

"Please."

"'Please' smack you around some more?"

"You're a real dickhead sometimes, you know that?"

Felix laughed. "You sound like my ex-wife."

"Better not let Yuna hear that," Wedge chided. "She might get jealous."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Get off it. I watched you make eyes at her in the village the other day."

"She had the gauze I was looking for," Felix protested. "I don't think that counts as 'making eyes'."

"The way you looked at her, I don't think you'd've minded reaching somewhere other than for the gauze, sergeant."

Felix shook his head. "You, my friend, have been in the jungle too long."

"I'm not the one looking at the High Summoner's rack."

Felix flicked a length of ash onto the ground. Was I really that obvious, or is Wedge just giving me shit? "No, but you've got a real problem keeping your eyes above Lulu's shoulders."

Wedge shrugged. "Where am I supposed to look? Those things take up half my vision. Telling me not to look at 'em is like putting a kid in a candy store and telling him not to drool."

"Not that it's my problem, but I'm sure Wakka would have a few choice words for you, mostly of the four-letter variety."

"Please," Wedge snorted. "You marry a woman like her, you expect guys to check out her knockers. She's practically gotta lean backwards just to walk anywhere." He paused a moment. "I can't blame you for wanting into Yuna's skirt, though. I'll be damned if those two years didn't mature her like whoa. Most chicks would kill to have legs like her. You seen 'em?"

Felix fought back the urge to drive his fist through his friend's smiling mouth. "Not yet."

"Damn, you're missing out. She's got a real nice ass now, too. I think I have a sphereshot-"

"You can shut the fuck up now," he snapped.

Wedge laughed. "See? I knew you had a thing for her."

Maester Nayla drummed his fingers on the mahogany table in front of him. A sphere atop its smooth surface seemed dead, devoid of energy. He watched it for a moment, as though contemplating whether or not to pick it up again. A gentle sigh escaped his lips, and he glanced out the window. The glare from the sun made him shut his eyes. It reflected off the innumerable domes lining the skyline, giving Bevelle a glowing appearance.

A knock sounded at his door. "Maester Nayla?"

He turned away from the window and concealed the small sphere within his sleeves. "Please enter, Maester Getta."

The overweight, graying man shuffled through the door. "Forgive me for intruding," he puffed, "but I must inform you that Maester Nade has agreed to reschedule the summit, as per your request."

"Thank you, Getta."

"We shall convene at this time tomorrow."

"Very well. Is that all?"

"Yes." Maester Getta waddled back out of the room. "I will convey your thanks to Maester Getta." The door swung closed, leaving Maester Nayla alone once again.

"The curtain rises," he said, his voice echoing inside the empty room, "on the world's stage."

He wadded up the gray coveralls and tossed them to the floor in a sweaty, dirty heap. Felix pulled his yellow pants on, then limped over to the bed and grabbed a roll of gauze from a low shelf. He wrapped the gauze around his foot, afflicted with the blister from hell, and tied it off. He took a drink from the sake bottle on the floor and replaced his cigarette between his lips. His maroon beret hung from one of many jars lining the shelves in the village's guest shelter, now the official DiMarco residence. He tapped ash into a shallow dish and lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. With retraining over, Felix's schedule was as devoid of activity as his tent. He closed his eyes with a sigh and set his cigarette in the dish. Maybe I can finally catch up on some-

The flap of his tent rustled, and a bright light streamed in. "Felix?"

Christ. "Yeah, Wakka?"

"You awake?"

"I am now," he growled, covering his eyes with his hand. "Shut the goddamn flap when you leave."

Wakka grinned. "Sorry, Brudda. Just checkin' to make sure you got back alright. Wedge passed out soon's he got in."

"Great." Felix closed his eyes again. "Wake me up if my tent's on fire."

His breathing began to slow.

An unusual sensation, like being hit with air out of the freezer, swept over Felix's body. He opened his eyes, and found himself on a plateau. Spires of orange rock stood high above the rocky ground, piercing the pale fog and creating a jagged skyline. The sky itself appeared ethereal – swirls of yellow, white, and orange orbited alongside wispy clouds. He took a step forward, then another. Felix's footfalls kicked up puffs of orange dust that seemed to hang in midair. The air felt cool against his skin, yet it objected to being breathed. Something hit the ground behind him, and he spun around.

A man in a red robe nodded his head, then pointed at Felix. "–your story."

"What?"

"It's time for you to start writing."

"What the fuck are you on about?"

A woman in a purple hood appeared next to the man. "Don't worry. You can do it."

Then he was falling. Falling down, falling past the rocks, falling through the milky fog. His chest felt hot, his breathing labored. Felix looked down, only to see his body tumbling away out of sight. Trails of blood streamed from his hands, waving from side to side like ribbons in the breeze.

Something brushed his shoulder. A little boy walked – floated? – past him. Felix hoped to the God he didn't believe in that he was wrong – that the patterning on the boy's shemagh was just a horrible, horrible coincidence. The boy turned around, to reveal an all-too-familiar bloody crater in place of a face. He lifted a thin, brown finger and leveled it at his gruesome visage. "Carry this," he said, in a singsong voice. "Forever."

A gasp escaped Felix's mouth as the soft scents of lilac and lavender reached him. He'd recognize that perfume anywhere. Tracy floated by and turned around, her makeup smeared and running down her face. Alec stood at her side, his face red and streaked with tears. They pointed at Felix, then began to fade away.

He tried to yell, but Yuna's voice drowned him out.

"Felix?" He shot upright, his heart's frantic beating rushing past his ears. A film of cold sweat adhered the sheets to Felix's body. Yuna stood at the entrance to his tent, her hands clasped. "Are you okay?"

Felix let out a shaky breath. That dream was weird as shit. "Yeah… I'm fine."

"You sure?"

Not at all. "Yeah. Just a weird dream."

Yuna sat down on the bench opposite Felix; the folds of her pale blue kimono stood out against the wood. "Want to talk about it?"

"Nah," he said, shaking his head. Felix crushed his cigarette out and finished his current bottle of sake. "Need something?"

Yuna smiled and pointed at the beret. "I heard you're a crusader now."

"Honorary."

"Still, that's a pretty big honor."

"Yeah. I'm a regular busy beaver over here." He leaned back against the tent wall and laughed. "I don't think I could avoid combat if I wanted."

"'Old habits die hard', right?"

"Try 'persistent callings'. You should know, Lady Yuna."

"I thought I was 'Boss' to you."

He grinned. "Pick one."

"I pick 'Yuna'."

"Fair enough." Felix grinned again, then reached for another bottle of sake from the nightstand. He popped the cork out and gulped the liquid down greedily, desperate to erase that dream from his mind and appear unaffected at the same time. Felix clamped his eyes shut, willing the unease away. Another unstable breath escaped his lips, and he shook his head hard. In his profession, disturbing dreams and flashbacks were par for the course. When his family starred in them, though, the equation all changed. Divorced or not, he spent four years – two of them with a ring on his finger – with Tracy. What disturbed him most was Alec's presence in the dream. No parent ever wants to see their kid like that.

Something soft slid over his hand.

He opened his eyes to find Yuna sitting next to him, his hand held between both of hers. "You're shaking," she said. "Something's wrong."

"That's why I have Mr. Sake."

Yuna smiled. "We all get scared sometimes, Felix. It just means that you're human, too, after all."

"I think I had that figured out." Felix squeezed Yuna's hand. "In a couple of ways."

She blushed.

"Of course," Felix added with a smirk, "I'm not supposed to take any initiative." He leaned closer, close enough for him to feel hot little waves of breath roll on his face. Her nose brushed his, and Yuna's eyes fluttered shut. "Boss."

"I think," Yuna murmured, "you've found an exception."

I hope she shut the flap behind her. He pressed his mouth against hers and rested his fingers along Yuna's jaw. Her lips were soft, and warm, and slid easily against his. He demanded access into her mouth, which Yuna granted. She grazed his tongue with hers tentatively at first, but the pace quickened as Felix eased her onto her back, his tactical pants now very uncomfortable. Yuna's distinct and pleasant taste mingled with that of the sake he just drank. Felix's other hand curled under the sash of Yuna's kimono and began tugging.

She broke away, blushing and wiping her mouth.

As another smirk leapt onto his face, a bright light streamed into the tent.

Oh.

"Yuna?" Lulu asked, sticking her head through the now-open flap.

Fuck.

"Y-yes," Yuna replied, sitting up and tugging her kimono straight. "Do you need something?"

Lulu narrowed her eyes. "Right now, to know why the flap was down."

"Damn ties broke," Felix interjected. "Yuna was telling me more about the Council. Boring shit," he added.

She took the proffered line. "You're impossible," Yuna chided, her face still red.

Lulu frowned and stepped into the tent. "Yuna, do you feel okay? Your face is a little red."

"Yes," she answered, quickly. "Just, ah, a little frustrated."

The black mage paused to glare at Felix. "I see. Yuna, there's a group of tourists in the temple. Would you mind talking to them for a moment?"

Yuna bowed. "Of course not! Felix, Lulu."

Once the tent flap swung shut, Lulu crossed her arms and stabbed Felix with optical icicles. "You have five seconds," she seethed. "Start explaining or I start castrating."

Felix stretched his arms and adjusted his position to hide a telltale bulge in his pants. "There are thirteen Councilmen, and-"

If looks could kill, Lulu would've just strangled me with my own intestines.

"That's what Yuna told you?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think so."

"No?"

Lulu gritted her teeth. "There are seven Maesters on the Council."

"I didn't pay attention. Oh no."

"What were you paying attention to, then?"

Felix grinned. "Sake," he said. "Want a swig?"

She leaned her face close to his. "If I everfind out you did anything to Yuna – if you even think about laying a hand on her – I will feed you what you hold most dear."

A twinge of empathetic pain hit Felix between the legs of his now-comfortable pants, and he forced another smirk. "Is that a threat?"

"Consider it a promise."

Jesus. "Gotcha. 'Nothing unprofessional', right?"

"To hell with that," Lulu said. "Treat Yuna like my daughter." She stormed out of the tent, leaving Felix alone to contemplate if screwing Yuna outweighed the possibility of losing his balls.

He looked inside the bottle's neck, then set it aside. He could still taste Yuna on his tongue, and he wanted to keep that for a little while. His pants started to become uncomfortable again, and he chuckled. I just kissed my boss. And liked it. Felix's emotions usually wound up fucking him in the ass at inopportune moments, such as when dealing with a bloodthirsty black mage with her sights set between his legs. Still… He pressed the cork back into his bottle of sake and lay back on his bed for some much-deserved sleep, hopefully involving dreams about a certain incarnation of Satan not interrupting something important.

A swift kick sprawled Higa onto the floor. "Wake up," Sig demanded.

"What?!"

"It is time." The older man pointed at the island peering in the distance. The low-light display showed land as a white blip amidst a vast sea of dark gray. "Five minutes until we reach firing distance."

Higa leapt back into his chair and flicked row after row of switches on the control panel. "About time, syda." He pulled a small viewscreen out of a slot next to his chair and pulled up the firing interface. "What happened to my missiles?"

"I made a stop before waking you up."

"You better've left me some, syda."

"Of course."

Felix's eyes cracked open. Somebody barbecuing? He grabbed his pistol, stuffed it into his waistband, and pushed the flap of his tent aside. Lulu, Wakka, and Yuna sat around a fire in the center of the village; the smell radiated from their little camp. Thick clouds obscured the night sky above. Felix made his way over.

"-think it was just thunder, you know?"

"It's not storm season," Yuna said. "Even if it were, Kilika is close enough that we'd be getting rain, too."

"Just a small cloudburst, maybe." Lulu reached forward and spooned a glob of beans onto her plate. "either way, we're all still dry."

Felix sat down on a log next to Yuna.

She smiled and nudged Felix's shoulder. "Hey, look who's up!"

"We saved you some steak, Brudda. Just in case you woke up, you know?"

Felix looked up at the full moon overhead. "Jesus, how long was I out?"

Lulu shrugged. "Eight or nine hours, at least."

"Did you sleep well?" Yuna asked, passing a large chunk of dark brown meat to him on a plate.

"Yeah."

Lulu tapped her fork on the edge of her plate. "Pleasant dreams?"

"I prefer reality," Felix shot back. Because dreaming about sex is not the same as having it.

The black mage gave Felix's fly a meaningful glare. "I'm sure you mean the steak."

"Yup."

"Yuna, perhaps after dinner you might actually give Felix some facts aabout the Council."

Yuna turned a bright red and muttered her assent.

Wakka raised an eyebrow at Felix, who shrugged. "So, Brudda, how did training go?"

"For me, or for the other guys?"

"Both."

"I'm tired as all hell," Felix laughed. "Same for Wedge. The boys did pretty good, considering they've never touched a gu- machina before. If the Crusaders were badasses before, they're badass-er now. Swords might look cool," he added, "but nothing beats reaching out and touching someone."

"What's the deal with the hats?" Wakka continued.

"Wedge wanted something to set the Besaid Crusaders apart. Same reason we all wear the gray coveralls now. Plus, gray shows less dirt, and it's cheaper to replace a gray jumpsuit than a two-piece yellow undersuit."

"You're a Crusader now?"

He nodded at Lulu. "Yeah. Honorary, unpaid, and one hundred percent deployable."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What about your contract with Yuna?"

Felix took a bite of his steak. "Don't get your panties in a knot about it," he said.

Yuna threw a hard elbow into Felix's ribs. "The Crusaders haven't been deployed in two years," she explained, "and the Council has agreed against any military action."

"Thirty seconds to firing distance."

Higa slid his fingers along the screen, and the missile icons on either side of the airship turned red. "We're ready to rock, syda."

"That doesn't mean a thing," Lulu shot back. "They could deploy him for peacekeeping duties, or post him in Luca."

"'Only deployable in case of war," Felix said, grinning, "and I'm stationed in Besaid. So get your panties unknotted already and eat." He looked up. The full moon hung high in the cloudy sky; stars winked at irregular intervals through the wisps. Crickets chirped in the grass. He let out a sigh and took a bite of his steak. Looks like it's always a nice night in Spira.

Wakka seemed to have read Felix's mind. "Nice weather lately, ya?"

"Yeah."

"We're s'posed to be in the rainy season now, but there ain't been a raincloud in months. Weird, you know?"

Yuna shrugged. "I like it," she said. "It's peaceful."

"Yes," Lulu said, sipping something from a translucent glass. "It certainly is."

Felix stretched his arms. "Helluva lot nicer than Chicago."

"Ten seconds."

"What was the weather like in Chicago, Brudda?"

"Windy, rainy, and gray. Cold, too." He flashed a grin. "The opposite of Spira, eh?"

"So it would seem."

"Five seconds."

He took another bite of steak. "Who killed it?"

"This?" Wakka asked, pointing at his own slice of meat. "Bought it in Luca, Brudda. Farm-raised Chocobo flank. Tastes pretty good, ya?"

Felix raised an eyebrow. "Chocobo? Wouldn't that taste like chi-"

The shockwave punched Felix in the stomach and knocked the wind from his lungs. He pushed himself off the ground, and saw a long trail of explosions tracking through the jungle, away from the village. Fingers of white smoke hung down from the sky. "JESUS CHRIST!" Felix jumped to his feet. He hauled Yuna off her log and shoved her toward the village's exit.

"What's going on?"

"Move! Get the fuck out of the village!" He sprinted into his tent, grabbed his vest, and sprinted back towards the campfire. Lulu and Wakka followed close behind Yuna, Riko in tow. The rest of the village stood outside their tents staring skyward, as though mesmerized by the dissipating white columns. "Get out of here!" Felix shoved through the small crowd and grabbed Yuna's wrist. "This way!"

"The cliffs are that-"

He shook his head hard, and slid the vest over Yuna's slight frame. "Don't bunch up! They'll see it for sure!"

"Who?"

"Whoever the fuck is bombing us!" Felix punched Wakka in the arm as the blitzer passed him. "We gotta get away from the rest of the village before he makes another pass," he explained. "I saw a cave under the waterfall a little ways east. Get inside."

"Diesel!" Wedge yelled. He stood at the exit of the village, a red beret perched on his head, an assault rifle in each hand. "Take one!"

Felix shoved his pistol and Yuna into Wakka's arms. "Take her and Lulu and get under the waterfall," he ordered. "Shoot anyone who comes in."

"Brudda, I-"

"That's an order, goddammit!" Felix ran over to Wedge and tore one of the rifles from the Crusader's hands. He worked the bolt, then snapped the safety off. His eyes scanned the night sky. Metal glinted to the north. "Wedge, he's comin' back around! We got anything to hit the bastard with?"

"We've got launchers on the Liki!"

Felix nodded. "I'll give you some cover." He pointed his rifle up and fired a long burst. The object in the sky accelerated toward the ground, and white light flickered against the sides of its blunt nose. Geysers of dirt appeared in front of the contractor. He rolled to one side as bullets stitched a path down the village and into the jungle.

The airship screamed over his head and pulled high into the sky; flames from burning tents and foliage glinted on its battered chassis. Felix fired a burst at the skyrocketing craft. He watched his rounds spark against it, and the airship banked to face him. A glinting wheel spun at its rear, ripping through the air and creating a deafening roar. Trees bowed under the downforce, and assorted fragments of flora spiraled up from the jungle. The sense of helplessness from Brazil returned.

He turned and ran down the path. The beach grew in the distance. The rifle felt like a block of lead as Felix's feet pounded down the wooden dock. He vaulted over the low railing, collided with the Liki's boathouse, and rushed to the bow. Wedge stood behind one of the turrets, his fingers hooked around the primitive triggers.

Felix dropped his rifle and swung the other turret skyward. His heart pounded in his ears, and the pain from his blistered foot vanished.

Wedge yelled out. "There! To your right!"

The airship screamed over the water, a v-shaped spray of water extending from under its nose. Felix brought the turret to bear and tightened his fingers on the triggers.

The airship loomed closer, its roar drowning out the ringing in Felix's ears. He squeezed the triggers hard. The turret bucked. A glittering harpoon skimmed over the water. It struck the airship low on the nose, but did not deter the rapidly advancing craft. Its nose began winking again, and the water hissed as bullets knifed through it. Felix released his grip on the turret and dove to one side. The deck shuddered as machine-gun fire chewed it to pieces.

Wedge fired, the reverberation echoing through the wooden deck, and the Liki jerked hard to her left. Her hull smashed against the dock with earth shattering force, and Felix felt the ship list. He looked up to see the airship trailing two lengths of rope behind it. From the ropes, a white-painted turret whipped around like a yo-yo. "That didn't do shit! Don't we have anything bigger?"

"All our weapons are edged!"

Felix grabbed his rifle and looked back at Wedge. "Where are the spare harpoons?"

"Maintenance room, by the galley!"

Felix stumbled down the recessed stairway and through the galley door. The rounds from the airship had pierced through the deck and decimated the furnishings, and water bubbled up through the holes. Shit! He clambered over a smashed table and tugged at the brass knob of an unobtrusive, bullet-raked door. It wouldn't budge. Felix stepped back and delivered a wood-splintering kick that tore the door from its hinges. Various odds and ends lay strewn about the perforated space. He tossed the door aside and dug through the debris, searching for anything that looked like a harpoon.

Another explosion rocked the Liki, and Felix lost his balance. The doorknob met him halfway, sending a trickle of warmth down the side of his face. A crate from the top shelf landed next to him and cracked open.

A bundle of harpoons glinted in the light of-

Fire lapped at rent beams and furnishings, growing fiercer by the second. Its base spread through the galley, parting where water continued to gurgle through the ruptured hull. Felix felt the heat against his skin. He grabbed the harpoons and fled the burning galley.

Wedge gestured at the sky. "He's coming around again!"

Felix tore the bundle open, and harpoons clattered to the slanting deck. His rifle dropped next to them. He rammed two of the wicked-looking spears into the second turret, and yanked the bolt back. "Last chance," he muttered. "Work this time."

The airship bore down on the floundering ship like a steel shark, nose guns winking. It's fire chewed the boathouse to pieces, shattering glass and splintering wood. Felix jerked the triggers back, and two harpoons spiraled upward. They struck the passing airship in the underbelly, and an unknown liquid sprayed the deck. Smells like-

"Wedge, get off the ship!"

"Is that-"

"It's gas!"

"Gas?!"

Felix nodded and picked up his rifle. "I think I hit the tank on that thing!"

"Wait, that means-"

"It means that we're roasted if the fire gets up here!"

"Felix, give me your cigarette!"

"What?"

Wedge pointed at the cloudy sky. "We can kill this thing! I'm gonna set the bastard on fire!"

"We already are!"

"I mean the airship, shithead!"

He handed his cigarette to Wedge. The other Crusader swabbed his own beret against the deck, then impaled it on a harpoon. He grinned. "Hope this works." Wedge pressed the end of Felix's cigarette to the dripping beret, and flickering orange immediately replaced maroon.

He's not. "Are you fucking insane? This whole deck is soaked in that shit!"

"Trust me!" Wedge rammed the harpoon into his turret and worked the bolt.

The surf behind the Liki roared, and Felix turned to see the airship bearing down on them again. He could make out the ropes from his own harpoons whipping about its blunt nose. Rounds thwacked against the hull and boathouse. He balanced the craft on his front sight and pinned the trigger back. The muzzle flash from his rifle shrunk Felix's world to a sliver of the Liki's ruined deck; his rifle's staccato flickering destroyed his already weakened night vision.

As the airship drew nearer, and the bolt of his rifle locked back, Felix yelled for Wedge to hurry the fuck up with his idea or get off the ship.

"Gimme a few more seconds!"

Felix gritted his teeth and watched, helpless. The spray of water in front of the airship slowed to a crawl; the droplets seemed to be suspended in midair as the craft creeped over the Liki. Wedge swung his turret upward in a painfully sluggish arc and squeezed the trigger. A fiery serpent hissed through the night and dug into the airship's hull. A torrent of flame gushed forth, waving from side to side and bathing the Liki in a brilliant light. The airship careened upward into the clouds, tracing a thick smear of fire and smoke across the sky.

As Wedge shouted in triumph, Felix noticed the splintered boathouse was now ablaze, ignited by a metallic dragon's death throes. The flames raced across the deck towards the two men. He shouted and leapt over the railing. Flames licked at his back. Felix plunged into the warm water and swam frantically for the shore, his eyes burning from the salt. He turned around to see a beret-less Wedge close behind, breathing hard. "Hey!"

"Did… did we get it?"

Wedge nodded. "Sent that bastard… right back home."

"Fuckin' A." Felix dropped to a sitting position against a tree and drew his rifle against his chest. He pulled out the empty magazine and tossed it down the beach. The Liki continued to blaze, collapsing inward on herself whenever her own weight became too much to bear in a particular spot. Gasoline floating on the water burned as well, creating a scene more at home in Hell than a tropical island.

"You okay?"

"I need a goddamn smoke." Felix dug into his pocket and produced a dripping pack of cigarettes. Both men burst out laughing.

"Ain't that a bitch?"

"What happened to the one I gave you?"

"It went boom," Wedge cackled. "Goddamn, did you see that shot?"

Felix grinned. "Nice, that's for damn sure. I thought we were both gonna get roasted."

"So did I." Wedge reached down and pressed a hand to his ass. He winced. "I think part of me did."

They laughed again.

"Guess the berets're good for something, after all. Not such a bad idea, eh?"

"Bite me."

"Don't get all down, I'll let you make the winning shot next time."

"Let's hope there isn't a next time," Felix said. "'Cause if I catch the bastard who got my smokes wet, there's gonna be some serious hell to pay."

"Smokes? We just torched Besaid's only connection to the mainland, watched our village get bombed to hell, and got my ass set on fire, and you're worried about smokes?"

Felix laid his rifle across his knees. "See, the difference is that you like it when your ass hurts."

"You can go and bone yourself, Sergeant."

He grinned. "Officers first."

Yuna curled her knees tighter against Felix's vest and leaned against the damp cave wall. Across from her, Lulu held Riko in her lap, whispering in the toddler's ear and reassuring him that everything was just fine. Wakka stood at the mouth of the cave, Felix's pistol in hand. Outside the cave, a curtain of water pounded against the rocky path. She ran a hand through her soaking wet hair and let out a shaky sigh.

"You okay, Yuna?"

"I'm fine, Wakka. I just hope Wedge and Felix are alright."

"I'm sure they are."

"Damn right," a voice called from outside the cave. Felix limped through the curtain of white water, followed by Wedge. Both men carried Al-Bhed rifles, and their clothes were torn and dripping. "Everyone here in one piece?"

Yuna sat up. "That's what I should be asking you."

He grinned again and slumped to the ground next to Yuna. Water ran down Felix's chest and absorbed into his once-yellow pants, the color now more of a brown. Tattered strips of dirty gauze clung to his right foot, and a circular, bruised cut marked one of his cheekbones. "Wedge got a free ass wax, but I'm good." His bloodshot hazel eyes locked with her own for a moment before Felix looked away.

"Damn," Wedge growled. The Crusader lay on his bare stomach near the cave mouth, his gray coveralls rolled down to his waist. The upper section was draped over his backside and tied around his thighs. "That saltwater stings."

"No shit." Felix looked away from the torrents of water. "You hurt, Yuna?"

She smiled. "No. You need a shower and a potion, though."

"Anyone else?"

"I'm fine, Brudda. You want your machina back?"

Felix leaned forward and accepted the pistol. He studied it for a moment, then set it on his lap. The cut on his cheek began to bleed.

"You're hurt," Yuna said. Her fingers brushed the cut, and Felix drew back.

"Hey! That hurts, dammit."

"Sorry!"

"Don't be sorry, be not sticking your fingers in my face." He wiped away the trickles of blood. "Besides, it's only bleeding 'cause I walked through the waterfall. It'll be fine in the morning."

"Let Yuna look at it, Brudda – she's a Summoner, healing little cuts like that is nothing."

"It's fine." A dark grin spread across Felix's face. "If you're going to heal something, heal Wedge's-"

"That's e-fucking-nough about that, Diesel. Pardon my language towards my sergeant, Lady Yuna, but my wounds are not serious enough to require your attention."

"Kiss-ass."

Lulu's nose wrinkled. "Why do you two stink like machina fuel?"

Maester Nayla clicked the small, aquamarine sphere off again. He leaned back in his chair, sighed, and toyed with his silver pendant. Outside the wine-colored curtains, innumerable stars twinkled against a pitch black background. Rotating spheres inset into the marble walls cast the room in a faint blue light that turned his robes the same color. He tapped his foot on the floor. "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori(2). No one dies without a just cause."

A/N: Damn, that was long! See why this one needed so much work?

To all who got past the tent sequence and didn't click the 'back' button or send me hate mail immediately, thank you for having an open mind. For those of you who left after reading it… sorry, but I refuse to believe that a straight, healthy, seventeen-year-old (in the original game) girl would spend her entire life mourning the loss of a boy who never told her his feelings.

On a less defensive note, it's time for me to plug an amazing story by an equally amazing author. "Akin to Sin 2" by No0ne is written in much the same vein as "Just Causes - hell, its predecessor inspired my fic - and presents an intriguing view of Spira after FF:X. I highly, highly reccomend the original AtS and its sequel. Read them. Of course, if you do, you'll come back over here and say "Damn, White needs some work."

(1)Just like before, he means a personnel jacket. Think dossier.

(2)Latin, hereafter referred to in-fic as "High Spiran". Horace's Odes, (iii 2.13) "It is sweet and fitting to die for one's country."