Chapter 39
Guns and Women
(Irvine)
Irvine hadn't stopped thinking of Selphie for one moment. She'd consumed his thoughts from the instant he walked out of the inn and remained stuck in his brain until that very moment when he was standing aboard the deck of the White SeeD ship, gazing out into the ocean. He tried to organize the confused jumble of his thoughts, to put them in a pattern that would show that he had acted appropriately in FH. That Selphie had been the emotional, irrational one, and that he was behaving like an adult.
But after several hours, he was still no closer to finding an explanation that would prove him right.
(Let's go over it again…)
He knew there was no way to save Fisherman's Horizon. If the Galbadians wanted to take the city, then neither he nor Selphie—nor all of SeeD, for that matter—could do much of anything to stop it. Putting aside the fact that they were hopelessly outnumbered against the G-Army, the city itself couldn't be secured. They had no real defenses, no barriers other than the ocean, no fortresses or shield walls or bunkers, and no military—nor even any police force to speak of. The whole city was a giant junk heap occupied by hundreds of pacifists who would die before they would willingly shed another's blood.
That was one thing about the people of FH that Irvine would never understand. The whole idea of preferring to die rather than to kill. Granted, he himself was a romantic at heart, so he could get behind the idea of a noble sacrifice. The idea of a hero tragically dying defending the things he loved was an image that deeply resonated with Irvine. In fact, if Irvine died as a martyr, slain in battle protecting something worthwhile, he would be okay with that ending. Better to die a young hero than live to be a hundred and die a pointless death of old age.
(No one writes songs about dyin' of heart failure in your sleep.)
But Irvine only believed in sacrificing himself for things—real, tangible things. He believed in dying to protect family, friends, loved ones, or homes. Actual objects and people. The people of FH stood behind a mere idea—the idea of nonviolence. A fairy tale world where everyone got along and there was no conflict or war or bad feelings and everything was just great all the time. The FH dream of a peaceful world was not only unimaginable to Irvine, he honestly believed it to be impossible.
(People will always fight.)
(That's just how it is.)
And that's why he couldn't justify staying in FH. He refused to throw his life away protecting an idea, especially an idea he didn't particularly believe in anyway. The idea of not fighting in order to end fighting seemed backwards to him. In his mind, the fighting only stopped when all the world's enemies were dealt with
He had thought that Selphie would grow tired of FH after a while as well. She had a relatively short attention span most of the time, and he assumed that after being repeatedly spurned by the mayor and most of the residents, Selphie would get bored and want to go somewhere else.
But he'd forgotten about Selphie's capacity to obsess about things. It wasn't a side of her that he saw very often, so it had slipped his mind. While Irvine was busy focusing on getting out of FH before the Galbadians came and destroyed everything, something about the city had quietly caught Selphie's attention and she refused to let it go. Maybe she was feeling guilty about Trabia and Timber. Maybe she wanted to finally take a leadership role, now that Squall and Quistis and all the others were away. Maybe she just wanted to prove something to herself.
(I don't even know what the hell she wants.)
Whatever the case, Selphie wasn't going to leave FH by choice. And he'd grown tired of arguing with her, so he'd left. Part of the reason was simply because of anger. He wanted to leave Selphie behind in FH—that rusty city filled with idiots—as a way of punishing her for being unreasonable and short-sighted. But another part of him had hoped that she would follow. That she would decide that the prospect of being separated from Irvine for any length of time wasn't worth it, that she would finally abandon FH and come along with him.
But his abrupt departure had asked too much of her, and in doing so, he had revealed a fundamental truth about their relationship.
(She doesn't really care about me.)
(Not the way I care, anyway.)
He sighed and leaned forward, gripping the rail for support. He felt dizzy and weak, as if Selphie was some magical energy source for him, and the further he got away from her, the less and less power he had for himself.
(Get it together, Irvine.)
He shook his head and clenched his teeth, but that only helped for a moment. Soon the feelings were back. The feelings of being alone, of being unwanted, of having his heart carelessly tossed back at him.
The feelings of being an orphan.
He thought about his foster parents in Galbadia. They hadn't wanted him either. They just wanted an obedient heir, someone they could groom to take over the family estate. Irvine knew first-hand how little their love was worth, and how easily he could be replaced in their hearts and in their home.
Matron was the closest he had ever had to a mother, and even though his memories—out of all his friends—were the least affected by Guardian Forces, he still found that much of the pieces of his past were missing. It had been too long since those days in the orphanage, and too much had transpired in the past decade or so. And besides, the orphanage was gone—reduced to a pile of rubble and crumbling walls. That home, that family, no longer existed.
But he had always had a connection with Selphie. Even as a child, before he even knew what such things were, he felt that there was something special about her. Something that only she possessed, and something that he desperately wanted for himself.
He knew he'd blown it on the day they reunited, back in G-Garden. He knew that now, in retrospect. He was excited when he found out that his friends were being sent on a mission to Deling City. He was expecting to rejoin with the old orphanage gang—especially Selphie—and relive their childhoods, but all their memories had been erased by their GFs, turning Irvine into nothing more than a stranger. Nothing more than a sharpshooter, there to fulfill a duty.
(Alone. Unwanted.)
So he'd gotten a little angry. And a little cynical. And he resorted to cheap pick-up tactics and dramatic one-liners that had had some success back in G-Garden. He didn't really think any of them would work, but he figured it was worth a shot. And if nothing else, the performance allowed him to blow off some steam. Hide his real emotions behind a façade of confidence and flirtatiousness.
Since his friends didn't remember him, he figured he would play along and act like he didn't remember them either. After all, maybe they were just pretending to have forgotten. It could have been some elaborate joke on him. So he went along with the mission in Deling City, playing cool and calm and aloof.
But his façade broke down when he finally got the sniper rifle in his hands and realized that they wanted him to shoot Matron. Squall, Quistis, Selphie, and Zell were standing there, waiting for him to pull the trigger on the woman who had single-handedly raised them all. And then he realized that none of it was a joke. The old orphanage crew didn't remember him, or Matron, or their childhoods. He was alone with his memories.
He had told Squall some lie about always cracking under pressure. He thought that Squall would be smart enough to see through it. After all, Headmaster Martine would never select Irvine for the mission from among all the snipers in G-Garden if Irvine had a track record of choking.
But Squall had bought the line and given him a pep-talk.
"Just think of it as a signal," Squall had said, trying to talk Irvine through his imaginary nervous breakdown.
With no other choice, Irvine picked up the sniper rifle, held it to his shoulder, and lined up his target in the scope. Then he aimed high and to the right, just above Matron's shoulder. The shot would go wide, but the angle was close enough that Squall would never be able to tell.
(It's just a signal.)
He fired, and Edea blocked the bullet with a magical shield. Even if he had aimed straight for her heart or her head, the bullet would have deflected harmlessly off her magic. That, in a way, was comforting to Irvine. It was good to know that he couldn't have killed Matron, even if he'd tried.
But that incident at the parade in Deling City had carried unexpected consequences. Irvine hadn't choked under pressure—like he told Squall he had—but he had lost his composure. After years refining his personality, his moves, his lines in G-Garden, he'd been broken down to his bare elements in front of his childhood friend.
It was humbling, humiliating, and terrifying. Before that moment, he'd believed that he had gained perfect mastery over his emotions, that his fears and hopes and disappointments were under his control. And after that day, he knew he was wrong.
He had spent almost all his time between that moment in Deling City and the present time wondering who he really was, and what he really felt. He knew now that he had been wandering back and forth between the false image that he had created in G-Garden and the genuine emotions that he'd tried to seal off. No wonder Selphie didn't know him. No wonder she didn't seem interested.
(I'm such an idiot.)
He still stood at the front of the ship, trying to get control over himself, and he found he couldn't. His weakness and indecisiveness had ruined everything with Selphie.
His grip tightened on the rail until his fingers hurt and his hands cramped.
What if the Galbadians came while he was away? What if they headed straight for FH, guns blazing and missiles firing? Selphie would fight them. Of course she would. She wasn't a coward. She would stand and fight to save FH, even if it meant fighting the whole G-Army by herself.
(Even if it means dying.)
And here Irvine was, on a boat fleeing the scene, like a cockroach running from the kitchen light. The metaphor was apt, he decided. He certainly felt like a bug. A tiny, gross little thing eating crumbs off the floor, despised by everyone.
(Alone. Unwanted.)
He opened his eyes, glaring into the ocean. He punched the rail, hard enough to hurt even through his gloves. He knew what needed to be done.
("The world ain't got time for your mopin', Kinneas.")
That was one of the things his first instructor at G-Garden had said to him. Over the years, it became something of a mantra for him. And here he repeated it again to himself. The world didn't have time to feel sorry for him, and sitting out on the deck staring forlornly out to sea wasn't helping himself or Selphie. He needed to do something, take action, or else just admit that he was a coward and a failure and go crawl under a rock and die.
(It don't matter if she don't feel the same way.)
(I'm still not gonna let her down.)
If she didn't want to be in a serious relationship with him, then that was fine. Painful, excruciating, awful, but fine. If she only saw him as a friend, that was fine as well. If that was all she wanted, then he would be the best damn friend that she had ever had or ever would have.
(And friends don't leave each other behind.)
He turned away from the rail and headed towards the back of the ship.
Now that the ship was well away from the city and far from prying eyes, the White SeeDs had allowed the potential sorceresses to come to the deck and stretch their legs and get some fresh air. The women mingled among the half dozen White SeeDs aboard the deck—along with a few of the eight rescued SeeDs that Irvine had brought with—making conversation amongst themselves and trying not to get in anyone's way. The women varied in ages, everything from middle-aged housewives still wearing their kitchen aprons, to teenagers and children as young as ten.
A few of the girls around Irvine's age had taken a greater-than-average notice of him during his time aboard the ship, but for the first time since he'd become a teenager, he honestly didn't care. None of those women were as important to him as Selphie. He knew that now, without question.
"Irvine?" Lisle asked. "Were you… crying?"
"Hardly," Irvine said and stomped past her. When he got past her, he rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve and hoped he didn't look too bad.
(I damn well better not have been crying.)
Near the middle of the ship—set off just to the starboard side—was a staircase leading to an elevated cabin above the deck of the ship. He turned and headed up the stairs, which brought him into the ship's wheelhouse. There were windows all around, so the captain of the ship could see in all directions. Beneath the windows were tables, desks, and control panels for every aspect of the ship. A single White SeeD—indistinguishable from all the rest, as far as Irvine was concerned—stood behind the controls, guiding the ship.
Beside him stood a young man in a blue sweatshirt. Irvine's eyes passed over the young man and would have forgotten him entirely if the guy hadn't suddenly turned around and waved at him.
"Oh hi!" the young man said. His face was plain and uninteresting, and marked with a few acne scars. His black hair was cut short and stood up like teeth in a comb. "The White SeeDs said they were taking on other passengers, but I didn't know you were gonna be one of them."
(Do I know him?)
Irvine narrowed his eyes at the young man, struggling to remember him. Then it hit him.
(Oh. He's one of the Forest Owls.)
Irvine hadn't been part of that first mission to Timber. Only Selphie, Squall, and Zell had that particular privilege. But Irvine had briefly run into the members of Rinoa's old resistance group when SeeD came to the White SeeD ship looking for Ellone. Irvine had only spoken one or two words to the man in blue before they left, and didn't remember anything about him.
(Except that he'll swap cards for dirty magazines.)
Irvine snapped his fingers. "You're uh, Pete, right?"
The young man's welcoming smile vanished. "Zone," he corrected. "I'm Zone."
Irvine shrugged. "I was close. Had four letters."
"Yeah, real close," Zone said testily. "You look awful. Are you seasick?"
Remembering what Lisle had said to him, Irvine shrugged. "Maybe a little. Nothin' too bad though."
"I have some seasickness remedies, if you're interested," Zone said. "I need the stuff constantly, 'cause of my stomach, you know. I can get you—"
Irvine held up his hand. "I'm alright, really."
"So are any of your other friends aboard?" Zone asked. He stood on his tiptoes and glanced over Irvine's shoulder, as if other people were hiding behind him.
"No, just me and some other SeeDs," Irvine said. "Don't believe you know any of 'em."
"How's Rinoa?" Zone asked. "Is she better?"
Irvine remembered that the last time Zone had heard news of Rinoa, she had still been in a coma.
"Yeah, she's fine," Irvine said. "She should be aboard Garden still."
"I heard that she went to Esthar," Zone said. "And then got shot up into space. But that's just a bunch of crazy rumors, right?"
(I'm tired of talkin' to this guy.)
"Nope, that all really happened," Irvine said. Zone's jaw dropped open. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some business with the captain here."
Before Zone could argue, Irvine stepped past him and approached the White SeeD at the controls. The SeeD turned and looked at Irvine, and for a moment Irvine thought he recognized this White SeeD too, but then he realized that all White SeeDs looked the same to him, and this one just looked similar to all the other ones he'd seen.
"What is it?" the White SeeD asked.
"Sorry, but I'm gonna need y'all to turn around and go back to FH," Irvine said.
"And why is that?" the SeeD asked.
(Think of a good lie.)
Telling the White SeeD that he wanted to go back to FH because he regretted leaving behind a girl who probably wasn't interested in him anyway didn't seem like a good idea. Nor did he think he could subdue all the White SeeDs and take over the ship by force. So that left deception as his only course of action.
(Go for sympathy.)
"I left my medicine back in FH," Irvine said. "I'm on these pills for my heart. If I don't get them, I could die."
"You'll have to talk to Commander Alnaj about that," the White SeeD said dispassionately. "I don't have the authority to turn the ship around."
(Ah, figures.)
"Thanks," Irvine said.
"Hey man, if you need medicine," Zone said, "I can hook you up."
Irvine narrowed his eyes and drew back from the guy in the blue shirt.
(First seasickness pills and now heart meds?)
(Is he some kind of dealer?)
"No thanks," Irvine said. "I ain't really into that kind of stuff."
Zone sighed. "I'm not a drug dealer, idiot. Back when we were in Timber, I stockpiled some medications after the Galbadians took control of all the hospitals. They always screwed us Timber citizens over and charged triple for all the meds, so I kinda ran my own little black market pharmacy. Fight the power, you know?"
"That's uh… cool, man," Irvine said. He glanced away, growing more uncomfortable by the second.
"What were you taking?" Zone asked. "I know I still have a few different kinds of heart meds left in my bag. I'm not licensed or anything, but I know a lot about this stuff, actually. I can help."
"No, it's… umm…" Irvine said.
(Damn it, now I have to lie even more.)
Lies were best when they were simple, short, and easily forgotten by the people on the receiving end. The bigger and more elaborate this lie became, the more likely it would fall apart.
"It's this uh, really obscure stuff," Irvine said. "It was made by Dr. Kadowaki from Garden. Only she knows how to make it. I don't even rightly know what the stuff is called."
Zone looked confused. "Well, what medication were you on before you went to Garden? I mean, I'm guessing she wasn't your first doctor, right?"
"No, well, it's just," Irvine reflexively looked down at the floor and tipped his hat over his eyes. "It's a long story. Just let me handle it, okay?"
Zone looked concerned. "Well… okay. I just don't want you to drop dead or anything."
"I won't," Irvine said with a confident smile. And then, before Zone could ask any more questions, Irvine walked past him and headed down the steps. He glanced over his shoulder. Thankfully, Zone wasn't following him.
(Whew. Close one there.)
"Hello, sir!" another voice said right in front of Irvine. Irvine yelped and nearly punched the guy in surprised anger. Standing before him was another man about Zone's age, wearing a brown vest over a white shirt and a blue knitted cap on his head. The guy smiled broadly, throwing his hand in a gesture that was one part salute and one part wave. "Pleasure to have you aboard, sir!"
"Um… yeah," Irvine said. It took him a few seconds to remember that he was the other guy from Forest Owls. Like with Zone, Irvine had no idea what this guy's name was. "It's uh… good to be here."
"You don't remember me, do you, sir?" the man said, his smile still as bright as ever. Before Irvine could respond, the man stuck out his hand for a shake. "I'm Watts. I don't think we were ever properly introduced."
Irvine hesitated a moment, then shook his hand. "No, I guess not. I'm Irvine."
Watts released his hand and said, "Is there anything I can get for you, sir? Zone and I have made quite a few friends on board the ship, so if there's something you need, just ask!"
"I-I just need to talk to the Commander," Irvine said, his voice cracking.
(Get a hold of yourself, Irvine!)
After having fought back tears on the deck of the ship, anxiously coming up with a string of lies in the wheelhouse, then nearly getting his pants scared off by Watts' sudden appearance, Irvine's heart was about ten seconds away from actually needing Zone's medications. He fought for mastery of his emotions.
"The Commander?" Watts said. "He's in his quarters. Let me take you there, sir."
Before Irvine could object, Watts had already spun around and headed to a back door that led below ship. He pushed open the door, and then paused and turned around when he noticed that Irvine wasn't following.
"Come along, sir!" Watts said with a wave of his hand. "It's right this way."
(Guess I have no choice.)
The door opened into a cozy wooden room filled with boxes and supplies. A few White SeeDs were inside, sorting through their gear and taking stock of their possessions. Watts waved politely to the SeeDs as he passed, then headed for another staircase that brought them even lower down in the ship.
At the bottom of the creaky steps was a long wooden hallway with doors all along the left side. To the right, a series of portholes lined the wall, through which Irvine could catch glimpses of the sea. Watts brought Irvine to the second door at the left then turned and gestured towards it, like a tour guide pointing out an attraction.
"Here's the Commander's quarters, sir," Watts said. "Please knock before entering."
Irvine tipped his hat, finally starting to feel like himself again. "Thank you kindly."
Irvine approached the door and raised his hand to knock, when he noticed that Watts hadn't moved from his place. He stood beside the door with his hands folded in front of his stomach, smiling constantly with his bright eyes locked on Irvine.
(Does he… want me to tip him or somethin'?)
Irvine shrugged and dug into his pockets. Amid a few spare rifle shells and some lint, he found a few gil coins floating around. Without looking at them, he pulled them out and placed them into Watts' hands.
Watts looked down and gasped. "Oh! Oh, no, sir! I was just waiting to see if you needed anything else before you enter." He pushed the coins back into Irvine's hand. Irvine sighed and accepted the coins.
"Thanks, but I'm good," Irvine said. "You're, uh, dismissed, I guess."
"Have a good day, sir!" Watts said as he headed back for the stairs. Irvine waited until he was out of sight, then shook his head in disbelief.
(That guy is crazy.)
Irvine knocked on the Commander's door. A voice on the other side admitted him in, and Irvine pushed open the door.
The Commander's quarters were as sparse as any Irvine had ever seen. It was really not much more than a closet. At the back of the room was a hammock strung from wall to wall. The Commander was in the hammock, writing notes on a pad of paper. In his other hand was a hand-held radio. Beside the hammock was a small chest of drawers. Otherwise, the room was empty. No decorations, no personality.
(Jeez… pretty bleak in here.)
The Commander looked at his guest and then set his pad of paper down on the chest of drawers. "Ah, Irvine," the Commander said. He rose out of his hammock and stood up. "Good news. I've managed to get a hold of Garden."
Irvine blinked.
(What? Already?)
"That was fast," Irvine said.
"I got lucky," Alnaj said. "I just scanned a few common radio frequencies and listened in. The first few channels I found were all just Galbadians chattering in coded messages, but I managed to pick up one channel where I heard the name 'Quistis' get mentioned. I don't generally forget names, and that one is quite memorable. I dialed into that frequency, introduced myself, and started a conversation."
"A conversation?" Irvine asked. "With who?"
"The Garden pilot," Alnaj said. "A man named Nida. He said he was going to get me in touch with the SeeD Commander, and I'm just waiting to hear back."
(Wow. This guy is really efficient.)
They were barely out of FH, and already this Commander Alnaj guy had tracked down Garden, established a connection, and was about to speak to SeeD's Commander, something Irvine and Selphie had been unable to do in the weeks since leaving the school.
"They're using short-burst radios that don't have much range," Alnaj said. "So we were lucky to hear anything at all. Also, that means that they must be nearby."
"How close?" Irvine asked.
"Hard to say," Alnaj said. "Since this is an open frequency that just anyone can tap into, I doubt they'll announce their exact coordinates, in case any Galbadians are listening in. But I'd say within an hour or two from here, given the types of radios their using."
"Ah, gotcha," Irvine said.
The radio in Alnaj's hand crackled to life. "This is Commander Quistis. Are you there?"
"This is Commander Alnaj," the White SeeD said. "I have one of your students here. Irvine."
"Good," Quistis said. "Can I speak with him?"
Alnaj handed the radio off to Irvine and Irvine took it.
(What do I say?)
"Hey, Quistis," Irvine said. "How y'all been?"
"We're surviving," Quistis said. "Are you and Selphie okay?"
Irvine winced at the mention of Selphie's name.
"Yeah, we're just fine," Irvine said.
(I'll explain the whole situation later.)
"Look, Irvine," Quistis said. "I can't tell you anything specific over the radio, so I'll say this. Remember the place where all six of us reunited after the missile incident?"
Irvine furrowed his eyebrows and thought.
(The missile incident?)
The only thing he could think of was the bombing attacks on Trabia and Balamb. At the time, Quistis, Irvine, and Selphie had split off from the group to go to the Galbadian Missile Base and stop the attacks, while the others continued on to warn Garden. It had taken a long time, but eventually they had all reunited back in Fisherman's Horizon.
"Yeah," Irvine said. "Where we had the concert for Squall to celebrate his promotion."
"Exactly," Quistis said. "Glad we're on the same page. Well, we're heading that way now. Less than a couple hours out, if Nida is correct in his estimation."
"And I am correct," Nida said in the background.
"Nida, please," Quistis said. "Now, without saying where you are, is it possible for you to meet us at that place?"
Commander Alnaj looked at Irvine. "Where is she talking about?"
"FH," Irvine said to him, careful not to speak the name into the radio.
"Ah," Alnaj said. "Then it seems you really are lucky then. Yes, we can turn around and wait for them there. It will be much easier to do that than to try to arrange another rendezvous point somewhere in the ocean."
(Good. Now I can drop the heart medicine nonsense.)
"Awesome," Irvine said. He raised the radio to his mouth. "We'll meet you there, okay?"
"Good," Quistis said. "If I don't run into you somewhere else first, meet me at the same place as the concert, alright?"
"Can do," Irvine said.
Commander Alnaj raised a hand and gestured, silently asking for the radio.
"Uh, here's the Commander," Irvine said. He handed the radio off.
"Yes, it's me again," Commander Alnaj said into the radio. "I wanted to discuss the possibility of unloading some personnel onto your Garden."
"That would depend on certain factors," Quistis said. "What personnel and why do you want us to have them? In any case, I think this is a matter best not discussed over the radio."
"Agreed," Alnaj said. "We'll discuss more on that later."
"Okay then," Quistis said. "I still have some—"
Her voice was suddenly drowned out in blaring static. Alnaj and Irvine both winced at the sound. The White SeeD Commander grabbed the volume control and dialed it down until the static was at a tolerable level.
"Hello? Hello? Come in," Alnaj said, speaking into the radio. Nothing but static replied to him. He tried the other frequencies, but the static persisted on all of them. He tossed the radio into his hammock and scowled at Irvine. "It's a radio jammer. Galbadian, most likely. Which means only one thing."
As soon as the words were out of Alnaj's mouth, Irvine heard shouting and stomping feet coming from up on deck of the ship.
"So much for bein' lucky," Irvine said.
Commander Alnaj pushed past Irvine and threw open the door, revealing a wave of panicked women who were fleeing down the steps from the deck of the ship into the hold. He had to pause a moment to wait for a gap in the crowd before he could sprint into the hall, dodging and weaving between the civilians as he rushed up the stairs. Irvine dove into the hallway and pressed himself against the far wall, flattening himself out as he crept along, step by step, towards the stairs.
He managed to clamber his way back into the storage room, then wind his way around to the deck. By then, the deck had been completely cleared of everyone except SeeDs and White SeeDs. Commander Alnaj ran up into the wheelhouse. Lisle and the other SeeDs gathered together on the deck, clearly wanting to help the White SeeDs, but unsure of how they could be of use. The White SeeDs hurriedly moved nonessential items off the deck and down below and prepared the ship for combat. Irvine ran to the nearest railing and leaned over it, gazing out in all directions, looking for the source of the threat.
At first, he couldn't see anything except the ocean, but when he followed the gazes of the White SeeDs on the ship, he spotted a small cluster of low, black shapes speeding towards them on the horizon. He couldn't discern many details, but he could identify the basic outlines and knew, without a doubt, that they were Galbadian models.
Irvine swore under his breath, and then ran up the steps into the wheelhouse. There Commander Alnaj, the pilot, and a few other apparently high-ranking White SeeDs were gathered in a cluster near a table. Zone and Watts hovered around as well, pressing themselves in a corner and mumbling nervously to each other. Zone was gripping his stomach, wincing in pain. Irvine rolled his eyes at Zone and approached Alnaj.
"So what's the plan?" Irvine asked.
"We run," Alnaj said. "We can't risk an unnecessary sea battle against the Galbadians, not with our civilian passengers. Our only option is to outrun them."
"Think we can do it?" Irvine asked.
"We'll try," Alnaj said, but he looked like he had doubts.
"And what if we can't get away?" Irvine asked. "What's the backup plan?"
"Diplomacy," Alnaj said. "See what they want. Maybe they just want to chase us out of the area. Or maybe we can trick them into thinking that we're some kind of exotic fishing vessel. And if all that fails, then we fight. Those are our only options."
(We left FH to avoid the fighting.)
(Seems the fighting went ahead and found us anyway.)
"Suits me just fine," Irvine said with a shrug. "Where we headin'?"
Commander Alnaj seemed to be getting annoyed with all the questions. He narrowed his eyes at Irvine, but he answered nonetheless. "We have a crosswind going west to east, so we've turned the ship to put the wind at our backs. The Galbadian ships rely entirely on their motors to propel them, so maybe the wind can help give us a slight advantage."
Irvine nodded. "One more question and then I'll get out of your hair. What should me and the other SeeDs do?"
"Can you fight?" Alnaj asked.
"Yup," Irvine said.
"But what about your heart condition?" Zone asked. "Did you get your pills?"
"I don't have a damn heart condition," Irvine said testily.
Alnaj ignored this exchange. "If you can fight, then get on deck with the others. Don't do anything until you're told, and stay out of our way. Got it?"
Irvine nodded and turned to head back down the stairs. He didn't agree with Alnaj's plan to try using diplomacy before action. In Irvine's experience, the Galbadians never pursued a target unless they intended to capture or destroy it. Attempting to reason with them would only give the enemy an opportunity to strike first.
In fact, Irvine distinctly recalled a battle tactics seminar he'd attended back in G-Garden that had discussed the merits of feigning a truce in order to catch the opponent off-guard. In their eyes, victory came first; all other considerations were secondary.
(The G-Army never did have much in the way of honor.)
He thought back to the last time he and Selphie had been in Trabia, when Martine had come out under a truce flag and made a bunch of promises and told outright lies. Irvine had been fooled into trusting his former Headmaster, believing that Martine was one of the few honest men in Galbadia.
(Now look what's happened…)
When he got back out on deck, he headed for the railing and looked to where he'd last seen the ships. Although the White SeeD ship was traveling east with the wind flat at their backs and all the sails raised high, the Galbadian ships were already noticeably closer than before. Whatever engines were powering those ships were clearly superior to the White SeeD's.
(Damn it.)
"What do you think our chances are, sir?" Watts asked, suddenly appearing at Irvine's shoulder.
"Gah!" Irvine said, nearly jumping over the railing in surprise. "Quit sneakin' up on me!"
"Sorry, sir," Watts said with a contrite bow. Zone stepped up behind Watts and stared out to sea.
"Been a while since I've seen a real fight," Zone said. "Usually we just run away."
Irvine cleared his throat and adjusted his hat, trying his best to recover some of his dignity after being startled. "Yeah, well, looks like y'all are gonna get a chance to duke it out with Galbadia again. Those ships are clearly gainin' on us."
Zone grimaced. Watts fidgeted.
Meanwhile, Irvine opened up his trench coat and dug through his pockets, moving his more useful shells into smaller, easier-to-access pockets. He glanced up at the ships that were chasing them. They were still too far away to see clearly, but he guessed they weren't heavily armored battle ships, or else they'd be larger and slower. That meant that they would have relatively thin armor plating along their hulls. He grabbed some of his armor-piercing shells and moved them into a side pocket.
He also found some of his demolition ammo—heavy, explosive rounds that sprayed the target area with pellets. The small pellets would be useless against the ships themselves, but would be handy at clearing off the decks of enemy personnel. He picked out a few of those and moved them to another side pocket.
While he was digging around, he found a couple of neon blue shells in a spare pocket. These were his pulse ammo bullets. They were strong enough to punch holes in the moon if he aimed up at the sky, but also extraordinary valuable and nearly impossible to obtain. The money required to create even a single pulse ammo shell could be used to buy a small nation. He moved those into another pocket, just in case.
(If they save my life, it'll be worth it.)
By this time, the pursuing ships were already closing in. If Irvine had a sniper rifle, he would be able to start taking potshots at the ships, but his regular shotgun couldn't even cover half of that range. Irvine stepped back from the rail and moved closer to the cabin at the back, moving himself out of view in case the Galbadians had snipers aboard.
As soon as Irvine moved, what little courage Zone and Watts had retained suddenly left them both. Watts saluted Irvine and said, "Gathering information is my specialty, sir!" and then sprinted for the door leading below ship.
"What information?" Irvine asked, but Watts was already gone.
Irvine heard a gurgle and a moan. Zone crouched down low, holding his stomach in both hands.
"Ooohhh…" he said. "I think I'm gonna go check and see how the women are doing."
Zone got to his feet and shuffled to the door, still clutching his midsection.
(Cowards.)
Irvine shrugged. It wasn't like he was depending on their backup anyway.
The group of eight SeeDs approached Irvine in a cluster.
"What should we do?" Lisle asked.
"Stay put for now," Irvine said. "The White SeeD Commander guy don't want us to be startin' a fight until the Galbadians make a move."
"But they're already making a move!" another one of the SeeDs said. "What does he want, a formal declaration of war, hand delivered to his desk?"
(Maybe.)
"Well, ain't nothin' we can do about it," Irvine said. "This is their ship, and their rules. So we just stay put for now. Get some defensive spells on you while we have a chance."
The other SeeDs cast some basic protective spells on themselves, and used other magic to enhance their speed and agility. Irvine cast a protect spell to help shield him from bullets.
Irvine peeked around the corner of the cabin. Now the ships behind them were close enough for him to make out their ship models. It was a cluster of five Galbadian Class-A Cruisers. No wonder they were so fast—Class-A's were specifically designed to run down enemy ships, and were among the fastest vessels in the world.
(Aw, hell.)
Irvine was considering different strategies and plans of attack when he began to hear a mechanical voice in the wind. He narrowed his eyes and looked around. At first, he thought that he was just hearing the voices of the White SeeD crew as they shouted back and forth to each other, but then he realized that the voice was definitely coming from the Galbadian ships, carried forward to his ears by the sea breeze.
He had to listen to the voice repeat its message several more times before he could deduce what it was saying.
"Stop your ship," the voice said over a loudspeaker. "By order of President Martine Dodonna, all ships in this area are now property of the Galbadian Navy. Surrender now or be destroyed."
And from there, the message looped back to the beginning.
(So they think they can just take any ships they happen to find?)
(… Yeah… actually they can.)
Not that the Galbadians had any legal or moral right to steal ships, but when a nation possesses the largest military and navy in the world, it's remarkably difficult to stop them from stealing ships.
(Might makes right.)
Irvine was about to reach into his trench coat and draw his shotgun from its special hidden hook inside his coat when he became aware that Commander Alnaj and a couple members of his retinue were standing beside him, trying to listen to the mechanical voice in the wind.
"What are they saying?" Alnaj asked. Irvine wasn't sure if he was asking him or someone else, but he answered anyway.
"Looks like diplomacy's off the table," Irvine said. "Unless you wanna surrender the ship and hope that the Galbadians are feeling charitable."
Alnaj scoffed. "Like hell," he said. He spun around quickly and addressed his crew. "Everyone to battle stations. You know the drill. Divide into your designated teams."
He spun around and faced Irvine. "How are you planning to fight?" he asked.
"With this," Irvine said, drawing his shotgun with a dramatic flourish.
Alnaj waved dismissively at the weapon. "Put that away for now. Hang back and don't do anything until we make the first move."
Irvine frowned, but did as he was told. Alnaj turned to the other SeeDs and said, "We don't have any weapons for you to use. Not even swords or pistols. I presume you all still have junctions and para-magic though?"
The SeeDs nodded.
"Good," Alnaj said. "Stay out of sight for as long as you can. When the fighting starts, unload on them, but make sure to check your targets. We can't afford any friendly fire."
The SeeDs were all professionals and had been mercilessly drilled on both individual and group fighting tactics. They wouldn't make any amateur mistakes and hit their allies by accident.
"Everyone stay alert," Commander Alnaj said. "We need to draw them in close."
(What for?)
The Galbadian cruisers would tear the White SeeD ship to pieces is they were allowed to get close. Once again, Irvine found himself disagreeing with the plan, but he had just witnessed how disciplined and organized the White SeeDs were, how quickly they divided into two teams of a dozen or more men, and how smoothly everything operated. Begrudgingly, he decided to put his trust in their ability.
"This better be good," he said.
"It will be," Alnaj said, with a cocky grin.
The White SeeD Commander moved across the deck to the base of the stairs leading up into the wheelhouse. From that position, he could effectively monitor the condition of the ship, the placement of the pursuing Galbadians, all while relaying orders to the ship's pilot.
Several tense minutes passed while the Galbadians got steadily closer. Soon they were well in range of Irvine's shotgun, but he maintained his discipline and kept it tucked away out of sight. His trigger finger itched, and his eyes habitually flicked from side to side, analyzing shooting angles and searching for good cover.
He gazed at the cruisers' deck cannons, which stared back at him like robotic eyes. If the Galbadians truly wanted to just blast them out of the water, they could have done it at any time. But so far everything was quiet. Irvine clenched his jaw, expecting one of the cannons to erupt at any moment. He tried to reassure himself that the Galbadians weren't going to shoot.
(They already said, "all ships belong to the G-Navy.")
(They obviously ain't gonna go blowing up their own ships now, are they?)
When the five Galbadian cruisers were close enough for Irvine to count the number of G-Soldiers patrolling the decks—and there were dozens and dozens on each of the five ships—Alnaj ordered all the SeeDs to raise their hands in surrender. Irvine looked around as the White SeeDs raised their hands above their heads, looking glum and defeated.
(What? He plans to surrender?)
Irvine muttered under his breath, but raised his arms up as well. The other eight SeeDs glanced at him questioningly, then did the same. Irvine wondered what was the point of dividing into teams and having the White SeeDs stand by each side of the ship if they were just going to quit before the fighting started.
"Cut the engines, lower sails," Alnaj said calmly to the captain in the wheelhouse. Immediately, the ship began to slow down as the heavy ocean water dragged along the bottom and the sides. The massive fin-like sails near the back of the ship folded down against the ship's hull, and everything lurched to a slow and fatalistic stop.
The Galbadian cruisers split up in an organized pattern. One cruiser sped ahead, then parked itself perpendicular in front of the bow of the White SeeD ship, making a physical barrier that prevented the SeeDs from trying to run away. Two ships stayed in the back, their cannons aimed at the White SeeD ship, ready to open fire at the slightest sign of resistance. Meanwhile, the last two cruisers pulled along either side of the White SeeD ship.
The cruisers were massive compared to the White SeeD ship. The decks of the cruisers were high above the deck of the White SeeD ship, forcing Irvine to crane his neck to look up at the G-Soldiers that stared down at him. Most of them were wielding Galbadian Military Sabers. Only a handful had rifles.
(That's good news for us.)
Both of the two flanking ships lowered long metal gangplanks down from the decks of the cruisers onto the White SeeD ship. The White SeeDs shuffled around looking submissive, making no move to stop the Galbadians as a steady flow of G-Navy men marched down onto the White SeeD ship. Irvine clenched his teeth and watched his freedom trickle away with every new soldier that stood on board the White SeeD ship.
Within moments, there were more blue soldier uniforms and red officer uniforms aboard the ship than there were White SeeD uniforms. The Galbadians held out their sabers and their rifles menacingly towards the SeeDs and muttered cocky insults.
A Galbadian officer in a stained red uniform swaggered up to the White SeeDs.
"Which one of you kids thinks he's in charge?" the officer asked.
Wordlessly, Commander Alnaj stepped forward, still keeping his hands raised above his head. When he got within arm's reach of the officer, the Galbadian unleashed a quick right hook across Alnaj's jaw. The White SeeD Commander stumbled aside, but didn't fall down.
"Wrong!" the officer said. "I'm in charge. And you all are prisoners of the Galbadian government."
The officer looked up at the cruisers that were surrounding the ship. He raised a hand in some sort of signal, and the soldiers aboard the ships relaxed their guard, lowering their weapons. The deck cannons turned away and returned to their default positions, facing away from the White SeeD ship.
"Don't like havin' those guns pointed at me," the officer muttered. He turned to say something else to the White SeeDs, but never got a chance.
"Now!" Commander Alnaj shouted.
Instantly, both of the two teams of White SeeDs leapt impossibly high into the air, vaulting over the heads of their would-be captors, up to the decks of the cruisers, and across the gap between the White SeeD ship and the Galbadians'. Not only did they all complete this superhuman jump with ease, they even managed to make it over the heads of the Galbadians standing guard on the cruisers.
The Galbadians stood in slack-jawed amazement as the White SeeDs, like a troupe of acrobats, flew over their heads, flipped, and landed neatly and silently on their feet aboard the two Galbadian cruisers flanking the White SeeD ship. Even Irvine and the other SeeDs were stunned into temporary silence.
(Oh, damn!)
"SHOOT!" the officer on the White SeeD ship yelled. "SHOOT EVERYONE!"
And then everything erupted into chaos.
Irvine slipped his hand into his trench coat and pulled out his shotgun. He went to aim it at the arrogant Galbadian Officer, but the crowd of Galbadians and Seeds aboard the deck obscured his vision. The deck was too cluttered with confused Galbadians and charging SeeDs for him to take a clear shot.
"Tch," Irvine said, lowering his shotgun. He gripped it in both hands, spun it around so he held the barrel and wielded it like a club, stepping into the turmoil and swinging it side to side and diagonally, like he was cutting his way through a dense forest. The stock of his shotgun cracked against Galbadian helmets and shoulders and necks and stomachs. The G-Soldiers he struck cried out and collapsed onto the deck.
The other eight SeeDs fanned out, taking the Galbadians by surprise. Of the eight, only two were hand-to-hand specialists, and those two dove into the center of the chaos like miniature tornados, throwing their fists and feet in all directions and taking out the Galbadians one after another. The other six either grappled with the nearest Galbadians—trying to steal away their swords and their rifles—or stepped back to begin hurling para-magic at the soldiers.
Gunshots echoed across the deck and shouts of pain and cries of alarm filled Irvine's ears, the flurry of sound forming a continual background static that Irvine automatically blocked out of his mind. He focused on the enemies in front of him and work his way closer towards the Galbadian officer.
Irvine clubbed a G-Soldier in the back of the neck, dropping him to the ground instantly. Lisle scampered up and snatched up the soldier's rifle and fired twice quickly into another nearby soldier. Irvine stepped around her and got in close to the Galbadian officer.
The officer stood off to the side, near the railing. His one arm was raised, revealing his wrist-mounted gun. He snarled and muttered, his arms shaking as he looked around, trying to aim at a SeeD without hitting one of his own men. Irvine strode up to the officer and for a half second, the twin barrels of the wrist-mounted gun were trained on Irvine's chest.
But guns were Irvine's specialty and didn't intimidate him in the slightest. Calmly, Irvine sidestepped as the officer squeezed the trigger, and the bullets passed harmlessly by Irvine and out to sea. Irvine tightened his grip on his shotgun and drove the stock into the officer's gut. He pulled it back and then swung it up like a golf club, hitting the officer in the face and throwing up him and over the rail and into the ocean. A moment later, there was a satisfying splash from down below.
(Punk.)
With a sound like thunder crashing, the deck cannons of the nearby ships began opening fire. Irvine flinched and spun around, fighting down panic. He might be able to sidestep a pitiful little wrist-mounted gun, but the large-caliber deck cannons would tear him and the ship to pieces in seconds.
For a moment, Irvine thought that he and all the others aboard the White SeeD ship were about to die. But then another moment passed, and another and another. The deck cannons continued to pound away, but the White SeeD ship was taking no damage. It was then that Irvine looked up and saw what was happening.
On board the cruisers, the White SeeDs had engaged the Galbadians in brutal hand-to-hand combat. The SeeDs moved like ghosts, bobbing and weaving in impossibly smooth motions as they ducked under clumsy sword swipes and skirted around poorly-aimed gunfire. Once the SeeDs got in close, they struck their enemies hard in the throat and groin, going for the weak spots in the Galbadian armor.
The G-Soldiers barely stood a chance. The White SeeDs drove the Galbadians back to the edges of their ships, then stunned the soldiers and hurled them overboard, where they fell, screaming, into the ocean.
Meanwhile, other White SeeDs dashed to the ships' deck cannons, defeated the Galbadians who were manning them, and then commandeered the weapons for themselves. Once in control, the White SeeDs then turned the cannons towards the other Galbadian ships and began unleashing their attack. The other three ships had no choice but to return fire and try to defend themselves. The heavy, terrifying thunder of the deck cannons wasn't the sound of the Galbadians blowing apart the White SeeD ship, but rather the sound of the Galbadian ships attacking themselves.
(Ha! Nice.)
Irvine looked around. Less than a minute had passed since Commander Alnaj and the rest of the White SeeDs had jumped aboard the Galbadian cruisers, but already the battle on the White SeeD ship was drawing to a close. The eight SeeDs—enhanced by junctions and spewing every kind of magic—were simply too much for the Galbadians to handle. Only a handful of soldiers remained. All the others had been thrown overboard or were lying dead or stunned on the deck. Irvine was pleased to see not a single SeeD uniform among the casualties.
Now that it seemed that the battle on the White SeeD deck was fairly under control, Irvine turned his attention to the Galbadian cruisers. He couldn't jump two stories straight up in the air, or disarm a man using only his fists, but Irvine knew that he had his own skills that could compete with the White SeeDs. He was determined that, when this battle was over, they'd be congratulating him and thanking him for his service.
The two cruisers on either side of the ship seemed to be well under White SeeD control, so Irvine turned to the ship currently sitting perpendicular across the White SeeD bow. That ship was focused on the two ships that had been commandeered by the White SeeDs, its deck cannons lighting up every second. Irvine slammed in several demolition rounds into the barrel of his shotgun and snapped it closed. He brought the stock up to his shoulder and aimed high, towards the command center on the ship.
The shotgun kicked him like a horse when he pulled the trigger, but practice had taught him how to brace himself for the impact. The round hurtled through the air and exploded into the topmost part of the ship, then sprayed down hundreds of pellets onto the deck. In one voice, dozens of Galbadians cried out and then collapsed—dead or wounded—onto the ship.
Before the survivors could recover, Irvine fired off another shot, and then another. In seconds, he'd cleared off the deck of all but a handful of Galbadians, who rushed for the nearest cover and ducked out of sight. Their deck cannons went all but silent, as most of the operators were dead or wounded.
The soldiers aboard the other two cruisers behind the White SeeD ship saw what was happening, and then they saw Irvine. The deck cannons stayed engaged in combat against the other two ships, but the soldiers on deck raised their rifles to their shoulders and fired down at Irvine.
The deck around Irvine's feet exploded into fragments of wood and dust. He danced in place for a moment, then tucked and rolled behind the shelter of a heavy wooden crate. Thankfully, whatever was inside the crate was dense enough to stop bullets, which gave Irvine enough time to tuck his shotgun between his knees and stuff more ammo into it.
When all the Galbadians aboard the White Seed ship were eliminated, the other eight SeeDs joined Irvine behind the crate.
He poked his head around the crate and fired three wild demolition rounds towards one of the two cruisers. Two of the shots went wide and exploded harmlessly above the ocean, but the third cleared out a half dozen Galbadians and forced the rest to duck behind cover. He reloaded quickly, shoving his last demolition rounds into his shotgun.
He poked his head out once again and fired off all his rounds at the next cruiser. This time, with most of the Galbadian crews on the five ships either dead or hiding behind cover, Irvine was able to take his time and line up his shots without worrying about having his head blown off. He fired off each round with precision, peppering the deck of the ship in a nice, even coating of pellets. Since most of the soldiers were behind cover, he couldn't see if his shots had any effect, but he was rewarded with the sounds of soldiers crying out in surprise and pain.
(Bastards.)
Irvine—fresh out of demolition ammo—began loading in his armor piercing shells. He refused to let anyone say that he didn't pull his weight in the fight. As he shoved each round home, he considered his next step. He saw the damage being wrought on both sides of the battle by the deck guns. Those massive-caliber weapons were tearing gaping holes into the armored cruisers.
He realized that, even though the White SeeDs had done an impressive job of turning the tide, they were still the underdogs in the fight. The two ships White SeeD controlled were heavily damaged and were clearly losing the battle. Irvine couldn't tell for sure, but he guessed they wound sink in another few moments. And once the two captured cruisers were sunk, the Galbadians would undoubtedly turn their fury back on the White SeeD ship, unloading their deck cannons onto the small, unprotected vessel.
Irvine thought of the women huddled down in the hull, and two idiots, Zone and Watts. They'd all die in seconds. He thought about Selphie, still in FH. Maybe a portion of the G-Navy had already reached FH and she was fighting even now. Or maybe she didn't know that the G-Navy was so close. In any case, he was determined to protect the ship, to make sure that he and everyone aboard made it out alive.
(I gotta go big.)
He set his shotgun aside and concentrated. Since he had been raised in G-Garden—which had almost no para-magic or Guardian Force classes—it almost never occurred to him to resort to supernatural combat methods in the middle of a fight. Whenever he thought about combat, he always thought of guns and swords and fists.
But his time with Squall and his friends had taught him much, and he'd acquired a particularly powerful Guardian Force to call upon in times of dire need. He was relatively untrained and found it difficult to gather the obsidian energies that composed the GF Diablos, but soon the black-and-red demon began to answer his call.
The sky darkened, and thunder rumbled, audible even above the roar of the deck cannons and the shouts of dying soldiers. The waters around the ships turned murky, and a thick, purple-black cloud formed just above the White SeeD ship, hovering so low that Irvine felt that he could reach it with a ladder.
The gunfire around him slowed as both sides of the battle got distracted by this incredible show of energy. Irvine focused, clenching his teeth and wincing. He could hear the other SeeDs murmuring encouragement, but he tuned them out. They were only distractions to him. He was so close to completion, but he could feel the energy slipping away every time he wavered. If he lost his concentration then the spell would cease, and all he would have done was create a very intimidating—but ultimately harmless—thundercloud.
(Almost there.)
He could feel the energy connecting his body and his spirit with the growing cloud above him. From deep within his mind, he could hear an animalistic roar, steadily rising in volume, making his heart pound and his chest rumble.
(Got it!)
With a blast of light and thunder, the Guardian Force Diablos came screaming out of the dark cloud in the sky. The beast was easily twice the height of a man, clad only in its leathery black-and-red skin. Its face was a twisted mask of spikes and sharp edges. It stared at the battle below with two furious, glowing eyes, flapping its wings with the force of a storm.
Irvine had just enough energy left to direct the monster's fury towards one of the two Galbadian ships behind the White SeeD ship. Diablos heard Irvine's command and obeyed.
The GF stuck one clawed hand into the sky and began forming a black sphere between its fingers. Arcane symbols that Irvine could not understand emerged in the sphere, glowing in elaborate circles and designs. Snarling in a strange mixture of pain and rage—as if the beast was so full of anger that it was physically hurting him—Diablos poured more and more energy into the sphere, bloating it until it grew from the size of a basketball, to the size of a beach ball, then larger and larger.
The Galbadians screamed in terror and unloaded the whole of their force against the creature, firing their deck cannons, their rifles—anything and everything at Diablos. But nothing they did mattered; the creature was utterly unstoppable. The bullets bounced off like pebbles tossed at a wall. Even the deck cannon rounds couldn't dent Diablos' inhuman hide.
And then the GF roared again and hurled the black sphere down at the Galbadian ship. The sphere hit the ship soundlessly, but bursting with light and an inaudible rumble. The front of the ship plunged down into the ocean as if a giant invisible hand had reached out and shoved it down below the waterline. The Galbadians on the deck were tossed from the boat and into the sea. The boat capsized and sank within moments.
Diablos roared again, triumphant, and retreated back into its cloud. The cloud dispersed, the skies brightened, and the sea turned cheerful and blue again.
Irvine collapsed against the crate, utterly exhausted, but pleased. The SeeDs—both the eight that surrounded him and the White SeeDs on the Galbadian vessels—erupted in cheers and shouts. Irvine grinned, then turned his head to witness the results of his handiwork.
The two ships that the White SeeDs had commandeered opened fire on the remaining two Galbadian ships. Although the Galbadians returned fire, the ships themselves turned away and fled back the way they'd come, trailing smoke and dead bodies in their wake. The White SeeDs fired off a few more rounds as a parting gift to the defeated Galbadians, then went silent. All that was left in the area were the two stolen Galbadian ships and the White SeeD ship. Irvine sighed and smiled.
(We did it.)
He took a moment to recover his strength. His arms and legs felt like lead noodles, and his head was spinning. He had been told that the using GFs would get easier with practice, but so far he still felt awful after each summoning.
He gathered himself, then put one boot down on the deck and stood up. The White SeeDs leapt down onto their own ship and landed nearby, as easily and deftly as if they were walking down stairs. They contemptuously kicked aside the metal gangplanks and watched them fall into the ocean.
Irvine spotted Commander Alnaj. He approached him, expecting both to congratulate—and be congratulated by—the Commander, but Alnaj's face was stern. He pointed at a few of his subordinates and issued rapid, angry commands.
"Hey, we won," Irvine said with a smile. "Why so angry?"
Instead of answering, Alnaj turned and pointed behind him. At first Irvine didn't see what he was looking at. But along the horizon, he spotted the black dots of still more Galbadian ships. His eyes traced along the horizon, finding more and more and more ships as he went along. Their number was beyond counting. They came from the north and the west in one massive wave, barreling down upon the White SeeDs.
"Oh," Irvine said.
"All we've done is made them aware of how dangerous we are," Alnaj said. "We have one choice and one choice only."
"And that is?" Irvine asked.
"We run," Commander Alnaj said. "And this time, it won't matter if we commandeer their ships or level them with Guardian Forces. If they catch up to us a second time, we'll die."
Commander Alnaj stepped past Irvine and headed up the stairs to the wheelhouse, leaving Irvine behind to stare at the horizon—blackened with Galbadian ships.