Ripples in a Pond
Chapter 3
Rating: PG-13, ratings might go up in other chapters
Warnings: Slight gore.Yaoi in further chapters
Summary: All bearings are lost when SeeDs experience an unfortunate crash that sends them on a planet where technology is at its beginning and monarchs stillrule. Theonly thingthey can do is try and keep their heads over the water and go with the flow, less they drown.ff8-ff9
Notes: Haha, the crossover does start but...well...the one scene went out of proportions and took up a whole chapter. A long chapter. -.-;; So it doesn't fully kick in yet, though it does in the 4th chapter, which I've already started writing. My apologies... (seems I do that a lot)!
"What's going on?"
Sirens were ripping through the air in a deafening melody, red lights flashing and painting the walls the color of blood. Squall had rushed on deck, the Lionheart buckled in reflex, as he doubted that it would be useful against whatever problem had surged up, and found Selphie trying to calm one of the panicking scientists down.
"That!" Selphie pointed outside where meteorites were surrounding them, closing in dangerously. "They're going to crash us and destroy the ship!" she added, as of if the matter wasn't obvious enough already.
Now he knew where that collision had come from. It had rocked the ship seconds before the alarms had started screeching, and if the hysterics of one of the scientists were to be trusted, it had damaged the ship rather badly. And more were coming.
"Is there any way to go through or around them?" he asked, remaining calm. He heard the elevator behind him, closely followed by the rest of the team's worried voices.
The lead scientist shook his head, calm and steady in a resigned way. "The asteroids have caught us in a net, and the Ragnarok isn't agile enough to cross that," he answered, gesturing towards the window in a lazy, tired manner.
As Squall looked at the panicking scientist and his defeated officer, he was reminded of why he more often than not hated civilians in emergency situations.
"Wasn't it your job to make sure we were ready for something like this?" Seifer growled behind him.
"This isn't the time for that!" Quistis snapped, instructor voice rising against Seifer. "Squall, we need to do something!"
Rocks hit the hull, upsetting the ship and nearly throwing a few off balance. Do something. Squall cursed inwardly at having to be the one to assume the decision alone. He'd always hated how he was continually forced into a leading position, hated how he accepted it, and now was no exception. Thinking fast, he scrambled for their last option.
"Go for the planet! Land!" he ordered forcefully.
"But sir! We don't have any coordinates for landing, and we don't know the landscape, we'll crash! And the asteroids, they've damaged the thrusters, we'll never have enough power to stay airborne, much less control the ship!" the panicked scientist countered, rolling crazy eyes and almost foaming at the mouth.
Seifer didn't wait. He pointed the Hyperion at the man's throat, his collected calm oozing danger and threat against anyone that disobeyed him. The scientist swallowed audibly, forcing himself to calm down in the face of this immediate danger. Sweat rolled down his temples and forehead.
"You heard the Commander. It's either that or the asteroids. Land," he insisted, and the scientist squeaked and turned to the commands.
"Everyone, junction your GF and magic for maximum defense." Squall reached for his own deities, putting everything he could in surviving the inevitable crash. He didn't know if it would be enough. He didn't want to think that it wouldn't be.
The ship roared to life, engines drowning out the alarms. It would not be easily controlled, as the thrusters couldn't work at similar powers, but finally it was aimed in the right angle and the Ragnarok gave its all as the landing operation was engaged.
Images blurred in the windows. The group bumped elbows in the cramped space, but all refused to leave, to be separated from a single member of the group. Dark blue faded to a lighter shade even as flames licked at the hull, and the ship shook so much that none could keep their balance.
The ship heaved once, twice, as it broke through clouds at alarming speed. Squall for the hundredth time, but this time he wasn't so lucky. The back of his head hit a wall with enough force to kill, red exploding behind closed eyelids before fading to black, an unforgiving pit that swallowed all senses.
---
Squall groaned when he regained consciousness. The first thing he managed to marvel at was that he was still alive, the next was pain in his head, then in his left leg that pulsed fire through his veins with each heartbeat. The last was that there were pieces of wreck pinning him down.
With an effort he started pushing those off, his head spinning painfully, and he moved slowly, being careful of his movements less it upset his leg and any scrap metal that might be stuck in it, or in case the bone was broken. It didn't feel like a fracture, but he couldn't take enough precautions.
Once everything had been cleared from his upper body, Squall pushed himself up on his hands, taking a sharp hissing breath when it made his leg shift and pain shot up the limb. Looking down, he saw that a long swollen red gash ran from his feet to his knee, fresh blood dampening the earth all around. After careful probes and much-repressed curses and brushes with unconsciousness, he guessed that it wasn't broken, or only very slightly fractured.
As he reached for Leviathan's Recover ability, sending the healing magic through his body so that not only the deep gash, but also every other minor injury he sported would be healed, he looked around, searching for his friends.
He first spotted the corner of a beige coat. Seifer or Irvine? The person stirred, raising up a blond-haired head. Seifer, then. Near him, a red glove. Zell. Farther behind him, Quistis. Squall dragged himself to his feet, his balance fragile from his spinning head and his leg's wound that would break if strained. Behind him, he could see Selphie lying unconscious near a scientist. Her breathing seemed labored. Only Irvine left. Where was Irvine?
Squall took a few careful steps forward, dodging shrapnel and metal and other pieces of red hull that had caved in. The main bulk of the ship was a broken skeleton, with patches of blue sky visible through holes in the roof and walls and lazy trails of smoke dancing in the breeze from a few piles of charred materials. Squall concentrated on finding his way without cutting a toe off instead of on the wreck he was scrambling through.
He didn't want to think that they were stranded.
He reached Seifer first, who had managed to climb to his feet and was now leaning against a torn but standing piece of wall. His shoulders heaved in a broken breathing rhythm and his left arm hung limply at his side, dripping blood.
Without a word, Squall cast Recover on him. Seifer barely reacted, simply raising his head to see who had done it. There was blood smeared all over his bloodless features from a cut across his forehead that was closing even as he watched.
"Thanks," he said, voice hoarse. He straightened, pushing off from the piece he'd been leaning on, and tested his arm. An angry scowl crossed his features when it wouldn't be moved perfectly without damage, but he didn't comment. It was still better than losing his arm and bleeding to death.
"Help me with the others," Squall said, gesturing towards Zell. Worry gnawed at him when he saw that the martial artist still hadn't moved. His chest was buried by scrap metal, his pale face expressionless as it rested to the side. Squall would have run if he hadn't been forced to be careful of the mess that was the floor.
"Chicken-wuss doesn't look good," Seifer said as he followed, and though he used the familiar insult, his voice was empty of mockery.
"Grab that other piece," Squall ordered, purposefully forgetting how that would strain Seifer's arm. The pieces were tangled together in such a way that they had to lift together to free Zell, and Seifer was the only one awake and in condition to help right now. From the small rivulets of blood snaking away from Zell's body, Squall thought that he couldn't afford any delay.
Seifer didn't seem to bother with his arm either, as he moved to grab said section and hefted it up. From the hiss he let out and the involuntary grimace that contorted his features, it might have been a little too after all. Squall hurried to move his own piece, throwing it aside.
He winced when he saw Zell's chest. It was covered in deep cuts, and from the mess that was his right shoulder, some metal part and gone right through it as well. The martial artist coughed suddenly, and blood bubbled up and stained his lips crimson.
"Shit, that's not pretty. He's going to need a resurrection-level spell; even your Recover won't mend this," Seifer commented. His voice was serious, and he sounded as worried about Zell as Squall felt, no matter how much the two bickered. Squall was grateful for it, because if the rest of the party were in a similar state, it would take a lot of energy to make sure none crossed death's door. Recover might be very powerful and useful, but it was also one hell of a draining ability.
Squall uttered the words for the Full-Life spell. He waited, expecting to see the powerful magic surrounding Zell and close his injuries. When nothing happened after longer than the usual delay, he allowed himself a frown.
"Hey, Leonhart? Now would be a good time," Seifer prompted with an empty shadow of his usual smirk.
Squall shook his head and tried again. The results were the same: nothing.
"I just did. Twice." Cursing under his breath, Squall pressed his hands to Zell's shoulder wound to try and slow the worse of the blood flow. "My magic won't work," he added uselessly, frustration and a touch of hysteria growing in his voice. He'd checked on his way, and almost all of his items were destroyed, save for a few potions and status recovery items. He didn't have a single Phoenix Down left.
"What? Are you sure you haven't hit your head?" Seifer knelt closer and raised one hand over Zell, trying out a simpler Life spell of his own. The blond man cursed abundantly when it proved no more conclusive. "The hell..? Your Recovery ability worked, didn't it?"
Squall nodded briskly. He could feel the blood through his gloves, hot and alive and taking that energy away from Zell. They had to find a solution somehow, or they would lose him.
"I haven't got any resurrection items left, either. Who's got Alexander junctioned?" Seifer asked, pushing on his knees to stand.
Squall frowned, trying to remember. His brain was scattered, only able to see Zell's injuries and the blood and the metal and the failed magic and the ache in his body and heart and Zell dying, dying.
"Hey, Squall! Help me here, who said would junction Alexander?" Seifer insisted and his tone was urgent and clearly stating that if he didn't react, Squall would earn himself a good punch.
"…Quistis. Quistis has him," he finally answered, remembering when they'd talked briefly of who would junction who in the ship. They'd separated the GFs in case of an emergency, obeying to protocol more than necessity as none believed the guardians would have to be called for. They were lucky to have taken the precaution nonetheless.
"Let's hope that our little instructor isn't dead," Seifer said as he turned and headed for Quistis, and Squall couldn't find the will to be annoyed at the misplaced humor.
He waited, his heart beating painfully against his chest. He recalled the Desert Prison, when he'd heard the shots and Zell's surprised shout. He remembered how he'd imaged them piercing his body, spraying blood, and he'd seen red. He'd bolted then, ignoring the others or his own safety. Zell had turned out to be safe, but Squall had truly believed that he might be dead at that time.
It was similar this time, but even worse. Zell was injured, and mortally so. With magic ineffective and the lack of proper items, their only chance was that Quistis was in a good enough state that she would be able to use Revive on him. If it even worked.
"Good news, she's only knocked her head. No other serious injuries. One Recover should bring her around," Seifer called from where he'd knelt down to examine Quistis. Without further ado, he gathered her up in his arms and carried her back to Squall, as he knew that the Commander would not budge from his spot so long as Zell hadn't been healed. His face was a deadly white when he set her down and he held his arm stiffly, but he said nothing, even though it was obvious from the fresh blood that it needed further care.
"Come on, one Recover. You can hand Leviathan over for a bit if you're too weak," Seifer challenged and forced derision in his voice. He knew well how to draw Squall out, and the Commander turned his head with an angry scowl even as he used the ability on Quistis. Thankfully it worked, and soon enough her eyelids fluttered open.
"Quistis, are you alright?" Squall asked when the woman sat up, clutching the side of her head with a groan.
"I've been better, but I'll be fine," she answered, giving a slight shake of the head as if to chase off a fly, focusing on Squall. That lead her to Zell, and she cried out at the sight of his injuries. "Zell! Why haven't you healed him yet?" she admonished, turning on Squall angrily.
"Because magic doesn't work, instructor," Seifer replied with sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Squall's Recover works though, so we were hoping Revive would as well."
"Magic doesn't work? Why..?"
"Quistis, please. We don't know either, and we'll wonder about it later," Squall intervened, deeply hating how pleading his voice sounded.
Quistis blushed slightly and muttered a quick apology before coming closer to Zell. "Remove your hands, Squall. We don't want the spell to spread its power," she ordered in a tone that resembled Kadowaki's, and Squall did so only because he knew it was needed. Still, as he saw fresh blood spurting forth unrestrained, he was tempted to place them back.
The Revive ability worked just as well as Recover had, and Squall watched with infinite relief as Zell's injuries slowly closed. They were far from perfectly healed, but there was no more blood loss, no more danger to his life. Squall exhaled a deep breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"There. We were lucky, a little more and he would have been beyond possible help," Quistis commented, sitting back with a weary sigh. Revive was even more exhausting than Recover, as it healed to the same level even more serious injuries.
"Thank you," Squall said gratefully, and felt foolish. She'd been doing it as much for herself, - Zell was her friend and comrade as well - as for the martial artist himself. He had no cause thank her as if she'd been doing him a favor.
"Excuse me for interrupting this heart warming conversation, but there are others who might need the same care," Seifer said snidely. Squall didn't miss the irony that it was him who thought of the rest of the party first.
"Where's Irvine?" he asked suddenly. He'd seen them all, but not the cowboy. He was the only one missing, and it worried him, as he thought that they'd all been in the same room during the crash.
First they checked on Selphie, who needed a Recover as well. Her forearms were badly burnt, and as Squall helped carry her beside Zell, he hoped they'd been quick enough that she wouldn't keep any scars. Quistis stayed with them both while Seifer and he scavenged through the wreck in search of Irvine.
They found him under another body. A body in a coat that had once been white, but that was now a bloody red mess. The scientist was dead, just like the one that had been near Selphie. But this time he was an unidentifiable lump of human flesh. Squall felt bile rise in his throat despite himself, and even more so when he thought that he had to clear it up to free Irvine.
"Poor bastard. That's what happens when you don't have GF junctions protecting your guts; they end up smeared all over the place," Seifer said with a disgusted grimace as he nudged the corpse with his boot.
"Be serious," Squall retorted, but he was no less eager to move the body. Still, Irvine was under that, and it was bound to be worse for him, so Squall scowled to stop himself from making a face and knelt down to push it aside. Seifer helped him, more or less, using only his feet, but Squall didn't say anything. It was better than if he'd used only one arm; he was aware of how the other's injury was by now. His own leg was throbbing painfully, protesting loud and clear against the work Squall put it under, but he resolutely ignored it. There were more important matters claiming his attention.
"Good luck making out which blood is whose," Seifer said once they'd cleared the body and its pieces off Irvine. His coat was almost as bloody as the scientist's had been, but the only problem was that, indeed, he couldn't say if it was from injuries or just the body. Or both.
"Help me turn him over." Squall cast a Recover, just for precautions, and the shimmering magic was still in the air when Seifer and he turned Irvine on his back, finding a spot on the floor where there weren't any dangerously sharp pieces of metal.
"It looks like he didn't have any serious injuries," Seifer observed. Although he was trying to hide it, his voice was strained and tired.
Squall was aware that he was in no better condition. All those Recovers had sapped most of his flagging strength, and though he could always use another one on himself to boost it back up, it would still be artificial energy that would only make him feel thrice as tired once it faded. He stood back up slowly, stretching his leg before him to ease the tension pulling at his fresh scar. Irvine was already stirring back to consciousness.
"Ow," was his first word. He straightened with a grimace for his aching limbs. "I guess I'm still alive," he added, looking up at Squall and Seifer with a humorless smile.
"Welcome to hell, Kinneas," Seifer joked right back.
"I'd imagined worse," the sniper retorted, and some amusement was now tingeing his voice. To Squall's enormous surprise, those two had grown to some form of friendship during their stay in space, always playing words against each other, though Irvine never went so far in sarcasm or insults as Seifer.
"…Are those some gory remains I see on my coat?" Irvine suddenly asked, having first spotted the excessive blood on his garments, then the mess of a scientist's corpse, and finally what else had stuck to the material. All traces of joviality he might have recovered disappeared to leave their place to profound disgust.
"The guy was lying all over you, Kinneas. I bet there's more than just on your coat," Seifer teased, and Irvine made a face, actually whitening, before quickly shrugging off his coat. He tossed it on the corpse and looked like he wanted to do the same with the rest of his clothing.
"I don't want to know. Where's my hat?" Perhaps looking for a diversion that might make him forget what he could find when next he put his hands in his pockets, the sniper started foraging in the surrounding rubbles in search of his favored hat. It was found nearby, a little rumpled and torn, but otherwise intact. Irvine put in on low over his eyes.
"Are the others ok?" he asked worriedly, and Squall knew who was foremost in his mind.
"They're all fine. Tired, with tender scars, but alive," he answered, gesturing behind him at the general position of Quistis and the others.
"The scientists?"
"Two dead. We're going to look for the last two," Squall answered.
"Don't count too much on finding them alive, if this one was any indication," Seifer added.
Irvine shrugged with a slight shake of the head. "It can't be helped, but we can at least make sure." Reaching back for his hair, an almost nervous gesture of his, he stopped when he saw the blood covering his hands, then shrugged again and resumed his movement. Considering how much of the liquid he had caked in his hair, it wouldn't do much of a difference at this point.
And make sure they did. The remaining two were together, not so far away, and both quite dead. As Squall stared at the corpses, he felt a cold pit form in his stomach, spreading in his body like poison. Without GF junctions, no matter their individual strength, they wouldn't have survived. Yet those same entities were constantly taking memories from them. Would that be their doom, their punishment for surviving through so much? Would they become dependant of those strange creatures until they ate their whole memories, leaving them as empty shells? It was a depressing thought.
"Squall, they're waking up!" Quistis called, breaking through his gloomy musings. Squall shook his head slightly, forcing himself to stop thinking about the GFs. They'd already accepted that consequence, and he didn't see why he would regurgitate the same old arguments again.
He just hadn't thought that he'd depend so much on them for so long. He just had to adapt, that was all.
"Yo, Squall. Looking good," Zell said when he saw him coming back, sketching a shaky smile in greeting. His voice was hoarse and his face white, but he seemed to have recovered enough energy to move about with some help. At least he was sitting up by himself, refusing any support from Quistis.
"Can't say the same for you, chicken-wuss," Seifer sneered. Squall shot him a surprised glance when he thought he heard relief and lingering worry in the blond man's voice. If anything like attachment had grown between those two, he'd missed it completely.
"Bastard, you're in no position to gloat," Zell retorted, gesturing to Seifer's arm.
"Stop worrying about me, I don't take it from weak people."
"Aw, guys, cut it out, you're noisy." Selphie successfully cut both of their tirades as she sat up with Irvine's help, moaning openly as she looked at her arms. "Ouch."
"You alright, Selphie?" Irvine asked softly. The answer was rather obvious, but it needed to be asked nonetheless.
"I'll be fine!" she answered immediately, voice as cheerful as it could get. There wasn't much that could bring that girl down.
"This is all nice, but I think we have a problem," Quistis said, and the mood fell again as everyone was reminded of their current position.
Squall sighed deeply. They were stranded. Period. The ship was wrecked; there was no going back in space, no going back to their own planet. Holding back the mounting panic from showing on his face, he kept a neutral expression for the others' sake. He'd assumed the leader position, and he couldn't show them what he really thought of the situation. They probably knew, but they could do without a confirmation.
"We need to get out of here first," he finally declared, to which most nodded. No point staying in a wreck where each footstep could cause serious injuries.
"But what about the scientists?" Selphie asked, and Squall suddenly felt very tired. Dead. They were dead. He'd failed his mission, a mission that was supposed to have been so simple, yet had turned for the very, very worse.
Laguna wouldn't know. He'd never know, would only suspect him dead. Rinoa would never really give up until she saw his corpse, which she'd never see.
He would never see her again.
"Dead. They're not our responsibility anymore; we have to think of our survival first," Irvine answered for him.
"Oh. Well, that's sad. Let's go, then! This place gives me the creeps," she declared, scrambling up. It was a show of her mercenary nature that she didn't suggest wasting what little strength they had left on burying the corpses.
Squall was happy to follow her lead. He moved to help Zell stand up, but Quistis beat him to it, giving a 'don't you even think about it' glare. So long as his leg didn't mend more solidly, she would not let him strain it more than he strictly needed to.
Slowly, carefully, they made their way through the Ragnarok, searching for an opening big enough for them to pass through safely. When they did, it was to see that the damage on the ship was even worse than could be seen from inside. It had dug a deep trench when it had crashed landed, losing bits and pieces along the way. Squall carefully picked his way out of the main bulk, the others close behind him. He could hear Selphie mourning the loss of her precious ship.
"Do you think those civilizations are some alien race?" Zell asked from behind.
Indeed, just a day ago, the scientists had managed to use a basic satellite to catch images of the blue planet's landscape. Those had revealed cities, big and small, of some sort of life form.
The scientists had been so thrilled to bring that news back.
"It would be awesome! I hope it's PuPu's people!" Selphie agreed wholeheartedly. Quistis snorted from under Zell's arm around her shoulders.
"Don't be ridiculous," she admonished gently.
"Let's just hope they're friendly," Irvine put in, and Squall had to agree with him. Whatever they were, he didn't give many chances to the group if they proved hostile.
They took a short break once they'd walked a respectable distance from the wreck and where there was less shrapnel strewn over the ground, both to catch their breath and to see exactly where they were.
The ground around them was dusty and kicked up dust with ever step, the grass a dry scraggly thing. There was a lush forest to their right despite the obvious lack of abundant water, and Squall thought it almost a miracle that they hadn't hit a single tree. All around were flat plateaus and stocky mountains. There wasn't a single sign of any form of city.
"It looks rather wild. I doubt there's a town nearby," Quistis commented, voicing Squall's thoughts.
"It's better that way, especially if whatever lives here decides to attack us," Irvine replied. "It'll give us more chances to hide."
"With no magic, serious injuries and an unknown territory occupied by unknown races, I doubt that it'll help," Seifer countered.
"It's better than nothing!" Zell would have continued, but he suddenly realized exactly what Seifer had said. "Wait…no magic?"
"That's right, chicken-wuss, magic doesn't work," Seifer confirmed.
Selphie and Irvine, who hadn't known about that either, exclaimed their own surprise and consternation. Selphie actually tested it, casting a simple Blizzard at a tree, and gaped when nothing happened.
"That's no fair!" she whined.
"GF abilities still seem to work, though," Squall corrected, and he felt like telling her that life was never fair. If it was, they wouldn't have crashed here, with the four people he'd been supposed to protect dead and their ship completely destroyed.
"I don't think that's anything we can…what is that?" Quistis stopped mid sentence to point at the pink…something flying their way.
Squall gestured for them not to move and let his hand hover over the hilt of the Lionheart, thanking every deity he knew that the blade was virtually indestructible and that it hadn't skewered him in the crash. It had survived Ultimecia, it wouldn't have been right for it to break for so little after that.
"You're alive! That's amazing, kupo!"
The group exchanged glances at the chirpy, high-pitched tones. It sounded anything but menacing, and somewhat stupid. It looked stupid.
"It's a miracle!" it insisted, coming to a stop near them. Squall stared down at the small animal-like creature, all soft and pink and bouncy and with a bobbing ball hanging from its head. As strange as it was, he couldn't shake the sense of familiarity as he tried to understand exactly what it was, and if it might have evil intentions.
"What are you?" Selphie asked first, peering at it with unhidden wonder.
The thing jumped, making offended flailing gestures. "How rude, kupo! I'm a moogle of course! Did you hit your head when you fell from the sky?"
"A moogle? Why does that sound familiar?" Quistis mused, and that really got Squall wondering, because they seemed to be the only two to feel any familiarity about the moogle. Deciding to ponder on that later, he concentrated on the situation at hand.
"Where are we?" he asked. The moogle really didn't appear hostile, but it could be a ruse. Squall kept a hand on his weapon's hilt.
"The forest around the Black Mage village, kupo!" it answered cheerfully. "They all saw the crash, so Vivi is going to be here soon with others to check! They'll be happy to see you alive, though you don't look so good…"
Vivi? Black Mage? Questions fought for attention, and Squall had trouble deciding on which should be asked first.
"Who's Vivi?" he finally demanded, deciding that from the way the talkative moogle said the name, he or she must be someone important, maybe a leader. And if they were happy to see them alive…they might have some hope, though experience had him stay on guard.
"That's me."
All heads turned to the new speaker. And everyone stared.
Well. It might not be PuPu's people, but Squall doubted that they were any less interesting.
TBC