Chapter 86

For the Motherland

With his latest victory at sea, this one being the exclamation point to his long and illustrious career, Marcus Ramius was at the bow of his own frigate as it sailed between the ruined, ragtag enemy fleet. Many of the ships stolen from their FH base had been sunk, including one of the cruise liners the Wraiths of Zefer had hijacked in Centra. The Centrans had gotten less than half of their fighters on land. Ramius' time-tested cutlass was drawn, and some of his formerly most trusted men and women – or Krakens – from the old Boat Troop were with him, demoted back to regular marine and navy personnel with the disbandment of the Adel Unit. They were all seated on chocobos, ready for a bold and glorious charge down the gangplank to hunt down the royalists who had run aground. Ramius looked between them, and they returned his triumphant gaze.

'The Empress can strip of us our rank and erase our regiment, Admiral,' Cecilia said. 'But we are no less Krakens through and through!'

Cecilia had been Krysta's closest friend, like a second daughter to him. Those words meant a lot to Ramius, coming from her. That the Krakens would still weather the fiercest of ocean storms, transcend every tsunami and plough through every riptide at his beck and call. That they would strive to snatch victory from the tenacious maw of Leviathan himself if he needed it of them. These Krakens had been in a league of their own, Ramius had made sure of it; after passing the gruelling selection for the Adel Unit, they received no respite before undertaking a number of further ordeals in the coarse Trabian seas. They were the most robust men and women in the World, more so than the SeeDs or the Garlands. None could tell Ramius otherwise.

'Are we ready to take these nomads to school, Krakens?' he asked them.

'Yes, Admiral!' they cried in unison.

'Those royalists!' Caeser scoffed. 'They're living in a faerie tale!'

'For the glory of the Empire!' came from Lucius.

'For the Motherland!' Gnaeus added.

For the Motherland, yes. For the Empire, Ramius was becoming increasingly unsure. At heart, it was not trampling and cutting through Centran nomads that Ramius desired. Upon returning from the Grandidi, and for the only time in more than forty years of service, he had requested a Guardian Force. So that he may hope to challenge the one known as the Undying Fire, the bearer of Ifrit and Phoenix who had cooked his beloved Krysta inside her bodysuit.

Alas, in his case, a lifetime of service to the Empire counted for nothing. There was a deep mistrust from the Empress of those from Ramius' generation, those who continued to serve during the Loire regime and had abandoned the old imperial ways to join a vastly trimmed down self-defence force. That he was a veteran of all three Sorceress Wars – having been trusted by Laguna to acquire Ellone and sailing against the Galbadians during the Second – was not seen as an accolade. Although Ramius had never once expected anything for his loyalty, a further twenty years of devotion had done little to tip vices in the eyes of the Empress. Her Grace had refused him without a second thought, even though a second magicite holder might have given them more of a fighting chance against Edea's locusts. Still, nothing would stop him from challenging Gerra Almasy when he embarked, GF or no. And the Krakens would ride with him.

If only Krysta had never joined the Praetorian Guard, Ramius reflected for the umpteenth time. If she had not, she would be mounted at Cecilia's side to ride with him now. He shook the thought away, as he had become adept at doing.

'It's time!' he said, at the front of his Krakens as they amassed before the gangplank, which was being lowered to the slate-grey pebbles of Mandy Beach. This was a public section of beach strip on Redwood's eastern suburbs, lined with huts and vacant sun loungers farther up. A few of the FH destroyers had been abandoned here, with the Centrans and FH crewmembers fleeing to the public steps farther up to coordinate a defence on the sea-facing road above.

Ramius spurred his personal chocobo, Tidus. It was his third chocobo of the same name, this one in adolescence, and armoured in the Boat Troop blue spectrum of colours. All of their armour still bore the Boat Troop insignia, which Ramius would not replace on principle. As they bounded up the pebble beach, the Krakens followed close behind with a fearsome battle cry.

The Centrans were identifiable by their scraggy clothes, baggy handcrafted tunics and breeches faded from a thousand river washes. They would be the fighters. The FH sailors wore more modern, western clothing, and were lifelong pacifists with no tactical sense whatsoever; in the face of an unwavering chocobo charge, they would scurry like frightened geezards. They interspersed the royalists by about one in ten, and Ramius commended them for their courage all the same. The Centrans demonstrated their inexperience by opening fire on them with their wide-ranging guns, which ranged from stolen Esthari plasma rifles to their century-old single-action revolvers and lever-action repeaters – these likely passed down through their families. They quickly broke and ran, seceding the high ground as Tidus took the steps four at a time. The Krakens were soon on the road above, tearing through their uncoordinated lines before regular marine personnel even made it to their level. The FH sailors soon bolted.

'For the Motherland!' Gnaeus roared again, propelled on the scent of enemy blood.

The recognisable screech of Valkyrs overhead led Ramius to believe that Colonel Vlahos had authorised some air support. Previously, she would only commit like-for-like, as Fujin Galeborn would just effortlessly knock any of their aircrafts out of commission. But, inexplicably, the airships started dropping plasma clusters on the marine formations behind Ramius, making deep fissures in the road surface and cutting his Krakens off from the larger force. In no time, enemy soldiers started pouring onto the beach-facing avenue from side roads. Though these were the not the same ones who had been fleeing from the marines. These were calm and collected. They glowed a gherkin-green, and they moved so fast Ramius could barely catch their movements, rending several of his Krakens open from behind. Those superhuman soldiers were now charging toward him, as swift as coeurls.

With no alternative, Ramius gave the command for his remaining riders to counter charge towards a side road. While still mounted, the Krakens could match their speed, and were fully stocked with para-magic. Their element was mostly water, more apt to force a way through enemy placements than be lethal, which is what they needed. But the royalists were just too many in number, and the Krakens were soon out of tidal waves and water spheres. It was like trying to breech a dam with a single gallon.

Each of their chocobos were either dragged down by their reins or just brutally hacked down, one after the other, until only Ramius, Cecilia and the few who had stayed close to him remained. Then the rest of them went down. On the ground, Caesar's neck was sliced open before he could get his gunblade up for a parry. Cecilia did manage to parry a lightning-quick thrust only to be ran through by another spear. Lucius was hamstrung and then had a dagger shoved through his neck. Gnaeus almost got his last kill against an unskilled adolescent, only to be shot through the back – an odd justice, as it were he who dealt a similar death to Fury Caraway. The Aged Admiral cried out as each valued Kraken was mercilessly cut down. He resigned that if Krysta had not become a Praetorian, she would assuredly have died here anyway. Tidus was finally stopped when he rode right into an enemy's pike, and Ramius was jerked violently in his saddle, landing painfully on the concrete just in time to avoid being crushed by his dying mount.

'It's the Admiral! Kill him!' one of them yelled.

Ramius gingerly got to his feet with cutlass back in hand, unable move his shield arm, spinning in circles as he become surrounded by the nomad army, swinging fore and back in broad arcs to futilely keep the royalists at bay. A spearpoint pierced his side, above the hip, and another thrust into his calf but a second later.

'You'll die like a geezard for everyone you've killed!' one Centran asserted, the one who had shot Gnaeus. The murderous intent in his eyes was matched by all the men and women that surrounded him, determined the avenge the thousands they had lost at sea.

Do they not understand war at all? he thought hopelessly. What had he believed? That it was humorous these nomads thought they could play at modern warfare? Ha! What a deluded, old food he was!

Ramius could not turn any more, favouring his leg. He felt a blade smack into his armour in an attempt to penetrate it, knocking the wind out of him again and dropping him to his knees. The perpetrator tore his hood back from his head and yanked his thinning grey hair back, holding a knife to his throat. When he met the assailant's eyes, Ramius could see it was a tall boy, yet no older than thirteen, absent facial hair and with a voice that had yet to break.

'Do you know how close we are as a people?' the boy hissed. 'We are not conscripts or cyborgs! We're as close as family! Our brothers and sisters were on those boats! Our best friends! Whenever just one of us dies, hundreds feel it!'

So, Ramius would die in battle after all, just not as gloriously as he would have liked. The one living and serving veteran of all three Sorceress Wars, cut from ear to ear by a boy of small years. It was long overdue. Aurelia and Krysta were waiting for him. Kiros and Ward, too, whom he missed dearly.

His last thoughts were filled only by Ialantha. Ramius had come to love her, a feeling he never thought he could have again after losing Aurelia. He did not know what Ialantha saw in him. Elven blood still run rampant in the Grandidi tribes; Ialantha carried herself like a younger woman and could attract a much younger man, though he knew the affections were mutual. She had led him deep into the Grandidi over the past few weeks. The foray had been nothing short of blissful for them. Ramius was now privy to her secret, that she was loyal only to the Eldertree, and it would die with him. His last wish was only that Ialantha found some measure of balance in her oath-sworn bounds before the war claimed her too.

'Stop!' a female voice cried. 'Stop it, now!'

The solid circle around Ramius parted to make space for a petite, freckled blonde. She was wearing the same beret and clothing the White SeeDs wore, only it was charcoal in colour. Curiously, she was wielding a rune-engraved longsword and there was a doberman puppy tottering at her heels, with saliva and blood dripping from its jowls. He knew who this was from the reports of their spies; Princess Relm of House Christophe, formerly of White SeeD and daughter of Centra's most notorious bandit.

'He's defeated!' Relm shouted to the boy holding a knife to his throat. 'Let go of him!'

'But his illusions killed thousands of our people, Your Highness!'

'This is war!' Relm told him. 'He tricked us in the same way we tricked him! His Boat Troop are all dead, now! He's a high-value prisoner, defeated and kneeling, and not a threat to anybody! You need to spare him!'

Please, no! Ramius would rather die. The Empress would not negotiate for him, and the Galbadians would want hard justice after his part in Caraway's death. Sorceress Rinoa would be the one to do it, as he had seen in his nightmares; she would come for him with black wings. After a stint in their infamous desert prison, that was, and Ramius did not fancy his chances of survival there either. He would likely never make it to trial.

Though it seemed this boy was a dutiful subject of his kingdom. Ramius felt the dagger point lifting from his neck and heard the boy stepping away, but not before spitting on the back of his head. Ramius met the princess' eyes, and her doberman puppy growled at him.

'Your Highness,' Ramius addressed her respectfully, though he would not thank her.

She was joined by her aunt, the queen consort. Ramius had met Beatrix of House von Heiligeberg before, as he had her husband, when they had enlisted in the ESDF's much-needed auxiliary twenty years ago. The Butcher of Blauehaven's one-eyed stare had unsettled him back then, and it was even more assured in adulthood. The rubies embedded in her sword glinted in the afternoon sun. Ramius would have bent the knee, had he not already been on them.

'We meet again, Your Majesty,' he said to her.

'Bind him!' von Heiligeberg ordered. 'And be sure to treat the Admiral with the respect he deserves!'

By the time the medics stymied the lifeblood pouring from Selena's neck, the ruined pantheon was surrounded. Aside from the two medics, she had a handful of conscript cut-out soldiers who nervously clutched their pickaxe gunblades. She may as well have been on her own.

She had barely retrieved her fallen axe before a number of black uniformed Centrans entered the opening and picked their way around the marble fragments littering the floor, thirteen in all. Their uniforms were the same that White SeeDs wore, with the double-breasted tunic and the beret, but they were charcoal. Black SeeDs, Selena thought, those who had left their mother organisation to become Centra's deadliest soldiers. In their midst was a tall, handsome, and slender man that reminded her of Rhodry, though he was at least a decade younger. The rest of the Black SeeDs gave way for him. He was holding a longsword Selena had seen before, that shone with an off-white light. When he took off his beret, he had a shaggy mane of prematurely grey hair.

'General Selena Vlahos,' he said.

I have not been promoted yet, she thought. I have not even been told that I have high command.

'Colonel,' she corrected.

'Colonel, then,' he acquiesced. 'I am Prince Noctis of House Christophe, formerly of White SeeD, and now commander of the Centra's New Royal Army. You are now completely surrounded, with your legionnaires and Temple Knights routed. Lay down your arms, surrender your magicite, and you will be taken into custody.'

'Not a chance, prince!' Selena said firmly.

She was standing within that column of sunlight and did not need to look up at her avenue of escape. Not that the soldiers around her would be able to follow. What she was about to do would be a dishonour, but she could not be taken into custody, not under any circumstances. Not while there were still battles to be fought in this war, and not while Esthar had an army.

'I won't hesitate to kill you, Vlahos,' Noctis said, a hint of iciness coming into his voice. Selena had sounded much the same as a teenage lieutenant, turning it on when she felt it was needed. With age and experience, there had been no need for such a switch. It now came naturally. 'Your impudence cost the lives of eleven of my former comrades in arms, not to mention thousands more of my compatriots at sea! I am junctioned with the Tonberry King, and each of us are one with his kin. Even with Carbuncle, resistance is futile.'

Selena looked at his sword, remembering where she had seen it before. In one of Gilgamesh's hands. Excalibur, she knew, was far more dangerous than any tonberry.

'Sorry to disappoint you, Your Highness,' Selena said, 'but the day of my death or surrender shall not be today!'

Carbuncle appeared before her, the jewel on his head shining. Each of the Black SeeDs knew what was coming, raising their off hands to shield their eyes. 'Attack!' Selena roared, belying her actions. She attached her axe to the magnetic sheath between the two gladiuses, crouching to throw her broad arms around Carbuncle's midsection. The soldiers around her paid her no heed, charging forwards and firing their gunblades. Carbuncle begun to rapidly leviatate, and within a few seconds she was through the hole in the ceiling, dangling from her diminuitive GF as it soared high above the harbour.

Fearfully, she looked for Leviathan, but surmised Dincht must be back on the ground. She was vulnerable and exposed up here, clutching Carbuncle like a child would a cuddly toy, and wishing for the first time she had not traded Boko's magicite for more power.

Silently, she commanded Carbuncle to lower her to the rooftop of a multi-story building, where she took out her personal device to observe the satellite feeds. Ramius had smashed the Centran fleet, but she quickly surmised his amphibious follow-up operation had been stalled. She could not pinpoint his Krakens within that sea of Centrans to the east and had to assume the worst. She tried the Admiral on comms, anyway.

'Ramius?' she asked tentatively.

There was a short pause, before a woman with a stern voice responded. The accent was unmistakeable Centran.

'Your Admiral has surrendered, Vlahos.'

Selena was unperturbed. She had to be, as she blocked that frequency and changed to that of her Legati.

On her end, the harbour was indeed lost, and while the well-drilled Temple Knights had quickly banded back together, her legionnaires were rapidly losing more ground to the west and north. Worse, she could see another force marshalling to the north of Redwood, crossing the plains with vehicles and chocobos. Before the battle, she had ordered all citizens to evacuate to Timber City to prevent any collateral damage, knowing that the fighting here would be very fierce. But it would appear this was now coming back to bite her, as it had simply allowed the Forest fighters to amass a force of thousands to take her own in the rear. Most of the Timberians had not even gone to the capital.

She knew Redwood was lost. Her best course was now to rally the legion stationed in Timber City, along with all the outposts across the annexed state between her and Sequoia. If her forces in Redwood could retreat, they could take the fight to the Forest fighters out on the plains, save the supply lines and regroup in the capital. There was also the legion stationed in 'Baron', formerly southern Galbadia, that could come east to provide support. While this would leave their newest claimed territory undefended, the Galbadians were presently concentrated in Dollet and not in a position to reclaim their own lost land. Together, they could hold the capital, and if it fell, she could move north to join what remained of Zebalga's force. Alternatively, if the Empress fell at East Academy, Selena could lead her own force east to leave the landmass entirely and regroup at Balamb.

Selena took a deep breath, pocketing her device and reluctantly clutching Carbuncle again. It was time to do her clan proud.

For the Motherland.