Eyes on Final Fantasy Forums > General > Writer's Corner > [F]Final Fantasy VIII: The Lionheart (Novelization Book 1)

[eiko guy]

I am officially a fan of your story.

[Darth Anarcus]

Here's chapter five, and I'm sorry it's taken so long. I've been extremely busy with work and such, and have not had time for much else.

I must say that I am quite pleased with how the first half of this chapter turned out. Biggs and Wedge are very fun characters to work with. I even incorporated something that happens to Wedge in a flashback of this event later on in the game (I think it was during the train mission). Well, at least it's my take on what happened to him in that scene where we see him being dragged off by something off screen.

The second part I am not so thrilled about. I don't know, I just think I could have done better. But it was such a boring part that I probably didn't put as much thought into it as I probably should have. I don't know, tell me what you think.

Chapter five:

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Chapter 5
Biggs and Wedge

Captain Tio Demmac tensed as he approached his superior and friend atop the communications tower. Where they stood was a semicircular disk just a few stories below the tower’s peak. All of the tower’s main functions were located here.

Tio had attained the rank of captain only a few months ago, nearly simultaneously with his friend, Maximus Delany, who had been promoted to major. The two had been life-long friends since both had enrolled as students at Galbadia Garden at early ages, with Maximus graduating one year ahead of Tio. Maximus was called “Biggs,” a nickname given to him by his peers at Garden in reference to both his first name and his impressive frame; a direct foil to puny Tio. Tio knew that Biggs had long since embraced his identity as an appellation, and he had no problem calling him that. He was Biggs in his mind, and, he knew, in Biggs’ own mind as well.

Tio halted behind Biggs’ back as his frustrated friend undulated between playing with the controls, going over the instructions and blueprints laid out in front of him, and cursing. Biggs’ red body armor and bulky, intimidating shoulder and forearm guards stood in stark contrast to Tio’s own blue body armor, barely different from the attire of a regular soldier despite his rank. About the only identical parts of their uniforms, from what he noticed, were the generic helmets that veiled everything except for their mouths.

“Major Biggs,” Tio said over the low hum of the circuitry. Despite their life-long friendship, Biggs still insisted upon being called by his much-hailed title while on duty, even by Tio; yet he still preferred it to be used with his nickname rather than his birth name.

Although Biggs didn’t seem to think anything of neglecting to call Tio by his title. Biggs had always been the more assertive of the pair, and Tio the more benign.

“Major Biggs,” Tio called again. “Sir, there have been reports of savages being spotted near the base of the tower.

“Quiet, Wedge! Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Ah, yes. Wedge. While Biggs was proud of his given moniker, Tio was less content of his own. He had earned it when he had fallen from a railing during one of his training sessions at the garden and became wedged between two support beams for almost an entire day. Maintenance had had to very carefully saw him out while remaining watchful that the landing did not collapse. It was utterly humiliating, but everyone had told him that one day he’d look back on the ordeal and laugh.

It had been seven years and he still awaited the day when he would find it funny.

“Sorry, Sir.” Tio spit the word out. It annoyed him that Biggs forced him to speak so formally while they were on duty. “I’ll continue my rounds.”

“Yeah, do that,” Biggs replied as he held the instructions manual closer to his shielded eyes. “Let’s see… Since it’s been a while since this thing was powered up, I’m going to need to activate the electromagnetic field in order to kick-start the main engine. So the first thing to do is… activate the demagnetized turf.”

Biggs flipped a switch, , and the circular zone on which he and the control panel stood began to glow a neon green.

“There we go,” he said.

Watching Biggs work was amusing, but Tio repressed his urge to chuckle. Biggs was an odd fellow. He wasn’t stupid, but it seemed that he didn’t feel the need to think things through before attempting them, or to listen to the advice of others. It had gotten both of them—or sometimes just Tio—into trouble many times.

“Sir, that ‘electromagnetic field’ doesn’t sound very inviting to me, on account of our armor and all,” Tio said. “And it doesn’t look like there’s room enough for the both of us in that little circle there.”

“Ah, don’t worry,” Biggs replied. “According to these blueprints there isn’t a conductor near us. We’re safe.”

“Then why the ‘demagnetized turf?’”

“You worry too much, Wedge. I’m sure the designers aren’t idiots.”

Doesn’t mean the operators aren’t, Wedge thought.

“I suppose,” was all he said, and he walked away.

Biggs sure could be stubborn sometimes. Well, most of the time, actually. Why did Tio get the familiar feeling that something bad was about to happen? Turning around one last time, he gazed back at a confused and frustrated Biggs fiddling with the control panels. Tio shook his head at his old buddy’s know-it-all attitude that proved to be quite fallible many times over.

“Got it!” Biggs called as he straightened, jubilant. He had succeeded in completing the first stage in powering up the anachronous tower. Tio didn’t forget Biggs’ reassurance that there were no conduits anywhere near the operating platform.

That was when he heard a low hum coming from behind. Tio gazed over his shoulder and, sure enough, there was a conduit not thirty away.

Why in the world did he have think Biggs actually knew what he was doing just this once? He should have known better.

The noise intensified as Tio felt his armor grow heavy, the pulling sensation becoming a reality as his body being pulled backward. He dropped to a sprinter’s position with one leg planted firmly behind him to keep his balance. It did not help at all as the magnet grew stronger, his boots slowly skidding across the surface as he tried to walk forward in opposition to the absorption of the powerful electromagnetic conduit.

“Uh, Biggs?” he called out over the noise. “Biggs!”

“Not now, Wedge,” Biggs answered from the safety of the demagnetized turf.

As the humming grew louder, Tio, unable to stand any longer, fell forwards as he attempted to claw his way against the magnetic pull.

“Biggs!” he cried again.

“Wedge, I’m kind of busy here,” Biggs retorted, “in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Turn it off!” Tio called again as the noise grew deafening and the polarity overwhelming. As he was dragged across the grated flooring, he managed to grab hold of an out-jutting piece of appliance. Gradually he pulled himself further away from the magnet, his muscles becoming weary faster than he had ever remembered having experienced. That was when his helmet was suddenly ripped from his head as if by a ruthless beast, leaving his bare ears exposed to the migraine-inducing noise.

“Oh God! Biggs! Biggs!

“Damnit, Wedge, stop whining!” yelled his friend over the all-encompassing noise. “And it’s Major Biggs!”

“Shut it off!” Tio pleaded. “For the love of all things hallowed, shut it off!”

Biggs snapped out what Tio figured was “Shut up, Wedge!” But it was hard to tell on account of the noise that he was certain would make his head explode within a few seconds. Tio’s arms were nearly numb now as he cleaved to the edge of a floorboard, his legs pointed in midair. Not only did he fear being pulled into that monstrosity, but he also feared that Biggs was moronic enough to finally do as he said and shut it off while he was in the process of being sucked toward it, thus hurling him off the platform and being plummeted to the mountains below.

That was when he saw Biggs bend over to check the wiring below the control panel, his butt moving outside the circle of the turf. He saw a wrench on Biggs’ belt flap wildly and then free itself, hurling right towards Tio.

The wrench pelted him between the eyes, at which point he lost his grip and went spinning through the air, wincing as he prepared for impact. After what seemed like longer than it should have been, it was as if all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the world as Tio landed hard on his back against the flat surface of the electromagnetic conduit, suspended upside-down ten or so feet from the control pad. Tio opened his eyes to behold the endless sky below him, and an inverted Biggs still fiddling at the control panel many yards away, completely oblivious to Tio’s predicament. The noise, oddly enough, seemed to be tolerable now, though it was probably because Tio’s eardrums were just about shot.

Why did these things always happen to him?
There was nothing Seifer hated more than being on standby. In his own world, the action never ceased.

Central Square was eerily quiet, save for the distant sounds of warfare all around. No one was around except for him, a half-asleep Squall leaning lazily against a pile of rubble, Chicken Wuss who paced to and fro in front of the stagnant fountain, the bodies of three dead G-soldiers they had cut down an hour ago which now lay lifeless – two on the ground and one slumped over the edge of the fountain – and a distraught, orphaned, fidgety dog who whined and moaned pathetically without ever shutting up.

Yes, Seifer was bored to say the least. An hour ago, Quistis had radioed in and instructed the team to wait until further orders before advancing. As much as he hated being idle, it was good not to have to listen to that snobby, high-pitched voice in his ear.

The dog would often wander from Seifer to Squall to Zell, begging for any sort of pity it could incite. Squall would pat it on the head once or twice, but it was easy to tell that he just wanted to be left alone. Zell would stop what ever he was doing (which was usually nothing) and treat the flea-infested cur like it was his best friend, petting, rubbing, and even hugging the thing. “Hey, boy! Hey, boy!” “What’s the matter?” “Who’s a good doggie?”

It made Seifer sick.

When the dog would start to bother him, he’d shoo it away. He was here on a mission and he had no time to be playing with inferior life forms.

“Man,” Zell said, “now this is what I call boring.”

“Tell me about it,” Squall agreed.

“This ain’t right, man!” Zell replied.

All Zell was doing was annoying Seifer and pushing his patience to the limit. He could take it no longer. In frustration, Seifer swung his gunblade hard over his head, inflicting a nasty wound on the foot of the unsuspecting statue he had been leaning against.

“That’s it!” he exclaimed. “I can’t take this anymore! We’re here to fight a war, not sit around entertaining animals!”

The dog approached Seifer once again fastidiously, to which he chopped his weapon hard into the cement, startling the dog.

“Get!” he screamed.

The dog turned and ran all the way to the other end of the street.

“Well, that was mean!” Chicken-Wuss had the nerve to say.

“Shut up, you nitwit!” Seifer retorted. “Just shut you mouth and do as I say!”

Zell took a step forward and opened his mouth as if to say something, but the look Seifer shot him shut him up before he even started. So the kid did have some brains after all.

And that damn dog decided to start barking. What the hell was it now?

“Oh God, just shut up!” Seifer pleaded.

“No, wait! I think someone’s coming!” Zell said.

As Squall climbed to his feet, Seifer looked in the direction the dog faced, and sure enough he could see a group of G-soldiers – there had to be about seven or eight of them – one-by-one climb over some debris blocking the street straight ahead and make their way towards them.

“Get down!” Seifer called out.

The three cadets hit the ground, hiding from the soldiers’ view behind the fountain. Peeking out to one side, Seifer could see that the soldiers had not noticed them, thankfully, as they turned down another street. Once it was all clear, the men arose.

“Where the hell they goin’?” Zell wondered.

“The TV tower’s that way,” replied Squall. Seifer had heard that this was his home town.

“That’s our destination,” Seifer said.

“But that’s against orders!” Zell retorted.

“It’s our mission objective,” Squall reminded him.

“Okay, it’s against our most recent orders,” said Zell. “We were told to be on standby until further notice.”

“Weren’t you just complaining about how bored you were just now?” Seifer said.

Zell looked back and forth between the two men, uncertainty in his eyes.

“Squall?” he pleaded.

“I stand by the captain’s decision,” Squall replied.

Seifer was slightly surprised to hear this from Squall, of all people, as he never agreed with Seifer’s orders, if only for the sole purpose of defying him. But Seifer reasoned that seeing his home occupied by Galbadian troops, moving around as if they owned the place, Squall’s desire to liberate the city probably his hatred for his archenemy.
Seifer’s laughed.

“‘Captain’s decision?’ You just want to kick some Galbadian ass, don’t you?”

His mouth twisted into a cunning smile. What a delicious idea that he had struck closer to the truth than the boy intended to let him know.

“It’ll be a good opportunity to test out my training” was his excuse. He had uttered those words without the slightest crinkle of expression on his face, to stop him from reading his mind like an open book. But Seifer knew.

“Oh, sure, sure,” Seifer teased, his grin widening.
Poor Squall. Couldn’t he see how transparent he was?

“Well, thanks to you, I feel like I can take on anyone,” Squall continued, cynically. “Even if they do fight dirty, like you.”

“You’ll thank me when the time comes,” Seifer replied.

“Listen,” Zell butted in, “This ain’t no ordinary battle. It’s a field exam. A damn important one, too. I think we need to stick to our orders or we ain’t gonna pass it… or get ourselves killed.”

“Then stay here if you want to,” said Seifer. “I don’t need a boy scout.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Zell asked pointedly, stepping closer to Seifer.

Seifer just smirked.

“Just ignore him, Zell,” Squall said. “Don’t let it get to you. He enjoys stirring you up, and you’re only giving him what he wants.” He turned to address Seifer. “Hey, if we’re going to go, then let’s get going.”

“Right,” Seifer said, cocking his gunblade. “The enemy is headed toward the tower. We’re to secure the summit. Move out!”

Squall cocked his own blade as well as Seifer led the way down the street, not bothering to take his beege with him. He didn’t need it. All he’d need was his precious gunblade.

And, he noticed, Squall didn’t bother to grab his gun, either.

[Darth Anarcus]

Okay, for some reason, it's not letting me edit any of my posts. I wish to make changes to my dramatis personae (as I'm sure you noticed, I've decided to go with different birth names for Biggs and Wedge than I had initially listed), but once I make the desired changes and press "save," it never ever stops loading and never goes through.

[Darth Anarcus]

Here's chapter six for anyone that may still be interested. Sorry it's taking me so long. I'm a very busy man.

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Chapter 6
The Tower

If the boys were as bored out there as she was in here, Quistis could only imagine the moaning she’d hear from Seifer when it was over. Well, perhaps she was being a bit insensitive for feeling this way. A while ago she had assisted Xu in transporting the wounded from the beach to Squad Alpha’s ship, the primary infirmary vessel. She had stayed and leant a hand until a messenger from the squad arrived with news of suspicious enemy activity around the town square. The Galbadians were lingering about, as if waiting for something. Judging it prudent to order her squad not to advance further before they ventured off the signal range, Quistis had hurried back to the ship to contact Seifer. Seifer had whined and protested – as usual. Wishing her already throbbing headache wouldn't turn into a full-blown migraine, Quistis removed her headset, collapsed onto the desk and buried her face in her arms.

Her headache had since abated in however long she had been sitting there. She knew she should not let herself drift off to sleep so she tried different positions, occasionally getting up, stretching and moving around, giving her poor thighs and bottom a break. She wished she had brought along a book or six, but that would have looked unprofessional given the situation. She trickled a few eye drops into her dried-out eyes. Oh, how she hated contact lenses. She preferred glasses, but they proved unpractical in times of exertion.

This wasn’t like her. She was always the one giving orders this way and that, commanding everyone to be vigilant even when nothing was happening. She had insured that the ships were well defended and that everyone was doing their jobs. She worried a bit about her students, but she trusted them. They were in good hands.

It was Squall she had confidence in, not Seifer. Squall would be the one to pull them through.

And now there was nothing to do; nothing to worry about. The more Quistis thought about it, the more she kicked herself for being so insensitive. People were dying out there and the only thing she could think about was how bored she was. If any Supreme Being existed, she hoped it wouldn’t hold judge her too severely.

Probably best check up on the boys.

Collecting herself, Quistis slipped on the headset and switched on the radio. Boy, how she hated these cheap things. Due to the worldwide interference, radio waves were only good for half a mile. The Galbadians used the info-net cable that allowed communication over great distances, but only worked one-way.

The town square was where Quistis had ordered the boys to stand by. It was exactly half a mile off the shore. She had to be certain they could reach the tower meeting the least amount of resistance before the communication was cut.

The shouts of “C’mon!” and “Hurry the hell up, Zell!” set over the crackling static greeted her as she opened the line. Were they moving? Seifer didn’t listen!

What else was new?

“Seifer, where are you?” Quistis inquired, pressing the headset’s microphone closer to her lips on account of the static.

No answer.

“Seifer?” She called again. “Seifer!”

“We’re advancing on the tower,” came Seifer’s irritated reply.

That impudent little…

“I told you to stand by!” If she could have reached through the radio and throttle him, she would have.

Seifer slowed just enough to cut down another lone soldier before continuing his trot across the long stone bridge leading to the mountains, Squall and Zell close behind. He really didn’t feel like listening to Quistis chide him right now. Adrenaline consumed his every thought.

“What was that, Instructor?” he mock-inquired windedly. “You’re breaking up.”

It wasn’t a total lie.

“Seifer, get back to the square on the double!”

He had had enough. Seifer ripped off his earpiece and chucked down the bridge. This would probably mean yet another field exam failure, and he was sure he would regret it later; but the only thing he could think of was that tower.

“Seifer? Seifer!” Quistis yelled into the mic. “Seifer, come in! Damn!”

She threw the headset onto the desk and buried her face in her palms. There were too many Galbadian soldiers up there! They should have waited. Seifer’s defiance would cost them this mission, and possibly their lives; and considering the death toll they had sustained thus far the mission was already looking grim.

Feeling increasingly overheated she undid the first few buttons on her blouse.

What to do?

Well, one thing was certain: they had to withdraw. Everyone. The battle was officially over. She hoped Squads Gamma and Delta had been successful at retrieving the prisoners because, the captives free or not, they had to go. Soon.

Very soon.

She glanced at the chrono on the desk. 17: 34. She figured an hour and a half should be enough to get all surviving troops back to the beach. They couldn’t afford to wait any longer than that. Making sure the headset wasn’t damaged, she slipped it back on and opened the line to the neighboring ship.

“Xu?” she called out, hoping to catch Xu in a moment away from the injured.

“Yes?”

Thank the gods!

“Xu, we have to go. Get withdrawal messages out to the squad captains to regroup here at nineteen hundred hours. I doubt any of them are within the radio range so we’re going to have to send messengers.”

Having finally reached the mountain path, Squall’s blood boiled at the sight of all the dead and dying Dollet soldiers scattered around. He recognized some of the faces. A few G-soldiers lie motionless as well, but the majority of the corpses were friendlies. He had seen dead bodies only once before in his life, when he voluntarily visited the morgue with a group of students so as to prepare them for the world of war. But that was nothing compared to what now lay before his eyes. The sweet mountain air was defiled by the nauseating smell of iron from all the blood. The dry earth, drunk with innocent blood, shined a sickly crimson. The bodies appeared relatively fresh; there were no flies or signs of decay.

His chest felt ready to burst open, spewing forth pure rage and insanity. This was his home. These were people he once knew. The Galbadian were destroying everything he had ever known, and he felt so helpless. Helpless knowing that he was only one person, that for as valiantly as he fought he could not even inflict the tiniest needle prick on the inhuman nation that raped this once peaceful city.

They were not people. Squall didn’t even give them the honor of being animals, for animals tended to bring joy to people’s lives. No, the Galbadians were as the abominable savages that scoured the planet, come from the cold, heartless moon.

But… no. He should not be thinking this way. Cadets were trained not to get swept away by emotions and to trust rationality. He was no longer a civilian from Dollet; He was a soldier in just one of many armies all over the world, and this just happened to be the side he was on. He had no enemies, he had no friends, he had no feelings. Garden was his home, not Dollet. Combat was his life now.

Yes, this was who he was.

“The Galbadians must’ve come this way,” Seifer said. Blood boot prints led up the mountain trail.

“Squall?” a weak voice breathed at his side.

Gazing down, it took Squall a moment before he recognized the dark-bearded, agonized face of one of his childhood acquaintances.

“Alex?” Wide-eyed, he dropped to one knee. Alex’s olive uniform had turned black, soiled in blood, plastered to his toned body. He and Alex had not exactly been friends. Alex had hung around with a group of bullies that often picked on other kids, especially loners like Squall. In fact, Squall recalled one instance in which Alex had bloodied his nose when Squall had kicked him between the legs.

“Oh, it’s so good to see your face again, Squall,” Alex whimpered. He pressed a gauze tightly at the bullet wounds on his chest, and had lost quite a bit of blood. Squall knew Alex wouldn’t live to see nightfall.

“Alex, what happened? What’s going on?

“The G-troops came… came through here and…” He struggled to catch breath, wincing at the pain. “They were heading for the tower. And you know that pla… place has always been a breeding ground for savages. They’re crazy, Squall! They’re… Agh!”

“Easy, easy!” Squall laid his hands on the exasperated man’s arms. “What are they doing at the tower, Alex?”

“I… I don’t…” Alex wheezed. “I don’t know. If you’re going up there, be caref… Aaaagghh!”

In an instant, the rock Alex had been leaning against was torn away as a monstrous serpent sprung from the side of the cliff and scooped Alex up into its gaping maw, thrashing him about violently in the air as the soldier bellowed his final cries of terror and agony. The creature was truly an abomination: towering over Squall at at least twice his height, the beast’s polished brown-grey scales glistened in the sun creating the illusion of sliminess. Crimson blood gushed down the white underside of the creature’s body as a lifeless Alex disappeared down its throat, a sickening bulge marking his descent down into its belly.

Squall frantically clawed his way across the rocky path, his back pressed against the boulders on the opposite side as the beast turned its attention to him, ogling him with its menacing orange eyes. He could smell its foul breath, reeking of filth and death. Its teeth, the size of short swords, gleamed with the blood of his dead friend which dripped to the ground mingled with repulsive saliva and venom. Globs of the nauseating substance sizzled as they fell on the ground.

Squall was shaken as he sat helpless in the monster’s shadow, yet he did not panic. He did know where his gunblade had skidded off to, but it wasn’t within reach. Though he had no idea how he would get out of this one, he knew that this wasn’t the end.

“Savage!” Seifer screeched.

As the creature craned its neck, preparing to lunge at Squall, he clenched his eyes shut as tightly as he could.

The sharp palpitation of Zell’s beege cut through the mountain air. “Aim for the underbelly!” he heard Seifer bark. Squall opened his eyes to find the serpent’s scaly body twisting into knots as Zell emptied his clip into its thick hide, the piercing noise of metal screeching against metal as it bellowed in pain and fury until Zell was out of ammo.

As the reptile regained its composure, Squall noticed Seifer, the latter nodding back at him. He knew what the plan was.

Reaching for a rock, Squall hurled it at the recovering monster’s face. It returned its gaze to him, eyes white-hot with vehemence. The savage craned its neck and launched itself straight at Squall’s face. As it did so Seifer dashed under its mammoth body and swiped his blade cleanly across the serpent’s neck, bright scarlet blood spewing everywhere.

The hellish beast gasped for air. Not finding any, it thrashed about one final time before rolling its eyes to the back of its head and collapsing into the pool of its own blood inches away from Squall.

Relieved to be in one piece, Squall used the wall of boulders at his back to pull himself to his feet. He gazed at the savage’s carcass one last time as he tried to recall the creature’s species from what he learned in biology class.

“An anacondaur,” Zell breathed as he loaded another round into his beege.

Yes, that was it. Anacondaurs, like all snakes, hunted only live prey, which explained why it had ignored the corpses. But dying prey was all the more alluring. It was defenseless, an easy meal, and the smell of blood undoubtedly made it all the more appetizing.

Squall thought of Alex. He briefly considered attempting to cut him out of the fallen beast’s belly, but then common sense set in. Alex was dead before he was swallowed.

Then an epiphany: seeing Alex’s blood dripping from thee creature’s mouth had been the first time he had thought of him as a friend.

Squall retrieved the gunblade he spotted lying in the grass a few feet away, and checked it as Seifer checked his. Blood was everywhere, and it had an almost sulfurous smell, far worse than human blood. A few spots stained his boots and pants, and Seifer’s white trench coat was not longer immaculate.

“Let’s move,” Seifer ordered as he spun on his heel and lead the way up the mountain path. They were not running this time.

“Squall, are you okay?” Zell asked as they began walking.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” His heart still pounded

The tower wasn't far off.

A short while later, they reached the cliff overlooking the base of the communications tower. The enormous, lonely tower, its once silver surface rusted brown like a revolting leprosy, stood in stark contrast to the awe-inspiring strawberry evening sky. Parts and fixtures rattled in the wind, loosened by years of abandonment. Atop a grated catwalk near the apex sat satellite dishes that served as albatross nests nowadays. Fearing that the tower would give way and fall one day, the citizens had frequently expressed interest in reinforcing it or tearing it down, but the Galbadian oppressors had forbidden them to touch it.

Crouched behind a short wall of rocks at the edge of the cliff, the three cadets could make out two G-soldiers at the base standing guard on either side of a large opening that used to be an overhead door long ago, but the door had permanently rusted open long before Squall’s time. He remembered children had played inside the base of the tower, but that was before the tower had been taken over by savages. The city had tried boarding up the entrance numerous times, but the Galbadians would not allow it.

Squall could see three – no, four other soldiers immerge from beneath the cliff. These must have been the guys they had seen back at the square, but he could have sworn there had been more. Where were the others? Were they hiding somewhere waiting to ambush them? Were they the few Galbadian corpses they had encountered along the way, fallen to heavy resistance from the D-soldiers, or the victims of savages similar to the one that had devoured Alex? He kicked himself for not counting them earlier. He was too upset by what was going on that he hadn’t thought of it.

It sickened him to know that he had let his emotions hinder his performance. It would not happen again

“What are they doing?” Zell asked, a bit too loudly.

“Shush! Quiet, you moron!” Seifer hissed.

The two guard soldiers saluted, and one of the soldiers with the group returned it.

“The generator is up and running, Lieutenant,” a guard reported. “No problems with the boosters whatsoever.”

The lieutenant replied something inaudible and entered the tower with his squad.

“Repairs?” Squall whispered.

“Who cares?” Seifer returned. “You’re not scared, are you?”

Squall turned his face to behold Seifer returning a smug grin. Would this guy ever give it a rest?

“I don’t think about it,” Squall spat before returning his gaze to the soldiers below.

“I love it!” Seifer growled, almost hungrily. “The way I see it, as long as you make it out alive, you’re one step closer to fulfilling your dream.”

“And what dream is that?”

“Come on, Squall!” Seifer shuffled closer, his face just inches away from Squall’s. “Don’t act like you don’t know. Your dream is the same as mine. We’re the same!” The fire in the Seifer’s eyes was intense enough to burn away Squall’s skin.

“Battle,” Squall said. It wasn’t a question.

Being a warrior is not what will save you, Squall Leonhart. You are searching for the wrong treasure, the lion within whispered.

Squall looked away. “I have nothing to say to that.”

“Yo, what are you guys talking about,” Zell wondered, once again a little too loudly.

“Nothing that concerns you, Chicken Wuss,” Seifer mocked. “And keep it down! I’m not going to say it again.”

Zell cursed beneath his breath.

'Squall’s heart skipped a beat as Seifer jumped to his feet. What was Seifer going to do? Was he going to kick Zell square in the ribs? Was he going to throw the poor guy off the cliff?

The action that followed was even more shocking: Seifer turned and ran down the path to the bottom of the cliff. Was he insane?

“There goes our surprise attack.”

He could see Seifer approaching the tower down below. He thought for sure that this was the end of the young man’s already-ruined mercenary career. Squall gritted his teeth as Seifer moved toward one of the guards, not slowing one bit or making a single effort to sneak up on him. As the guard took notice of Seifer’s presence, it was too late: Seifer ended the soldier’s life with one swift swipe of his blade. By the time the other guard started to react, Seifer had already closed the distance between them and followed through with a chop to the man’s chest, leaving him for the vultures.

Some guards.

The need to remain concealed was now past, Squall and Zell stood.

Seifer turned to face them but he seemed momentarily distracted by something at the base of the cliff, out of their sight. Lifting his eyes, he waved them on with his gunblade before disappearing inside the tower.

“There you are!” came an enervated voice from somewhere behind. Squall and Zell spun to see a petite female cadet atop a mound of rocks, the setting sun shining behind her hazelnut hair.

She looked familiar. Where had Squall seen her before? Oh, of course! It was that klutzy girl that had run into him this morning after class. The same girl that had asked the offensive question at the briefing. What did she want now?

“Um, I’m… I’m…” The girl struggled to catch her breath as she began making her way down the steep wall of rocks, gingerly searching for suitable footing. “I’m Selph… Whoa!”

She staggered, pebbles scurrying down the mount with a patter, her boot slipped, and she fell forward. Squall and Zell instinctively rushed to the foot of the slop and caught the tumbling girl before she could roll off the cliff. In a blush of embarrassment the young pulled her skirt down, her face blanketed in humiliation.

“Are you okay?” Squall asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” she said as he helped her to her feet.

Raising her face once again, her emerald eyes meeting Squall’s, all traces of embarrassment gone as excitement overtook her.

“Hey, you’re that guy I met in the hallway,” she said.

“Yeah” was the only thing Squall could think of to say to that. It was an awkward experience, to be sure. “I’m Squall Leonhart. This is Zell Dincht. We’re Squad Beta.”

“Selphie Tilmitt from Squad Alpha,” the girl replied. “Good to meet you.”

This is Selphie Tilmitt:

Ever cheerful and optimistic, Selphie is a real go-getter. A firm believer in pride and determination, she knows first-hand that if you just keep faith and belief in yourself, you can accomplish anything. Her enthusiasm is what keeps her going, and she’s not slowing down any time soon. Selphie’s ardor has seen her through some truly taxing times. It surely hasn’t been easy, but Selphie never gives up, and that is what has gotten her to where she is today.

Selphie grew up in the little, far-removed town of Alru Pyca on the snowy northern continent Durrland. He parents, Jack and Adi Tilmitt, own the restaurant Ruby Light. Her older sister, Keren, is currently studying chemistry at the Delling University.

Throughout her entire life Selphie has wanted to fly. Her lifelong dream as far back as she can remember has always been to learn to fly an airplane. At the age of nine, Selphie’s parents enrolled her in Trabia Garden, insisting that it was the best place to learn what she wished to learn. However, this meant her dream job had to take the backseat as the Garden’s main purpose was to produce mercenaries. Flight training a simulation would have to wait a few years as the students underwent intensive combat training exclusively for their first four years. Only in the past two years has she been taking flight classes, but she has certainly made great progress, despite ongoing attempts by her peers to dissuade her from such a “useless” career choice.

It is true that planes are seldom used in today’s world due to the worldwide radio interference inhibiting the use of radar. Without radar a pilot essentially only has his eyes and ears to rely on, and in rain, snow or fog he is fundamentally flying blindly.

No one uses airplanes anymore. But that isn’t stopping Selphie from pursuing her dream. She has faith that, one day, she will soar through the heavens.

Now seventeen years old, Selphie is at a crossroads in her life. While she does wish to become a pilot, she has also grown to love the military for what they do for people. Always wishing to help others, Selphie has opted to pursue a mercenary career, her flight skills being put on the backburner for now. She had heard how SeeD risk their lives to alleviate the suffering of others.

A classmate had told Selphie the story of how SeeDs passing through her area had defended her home town from an onslaught of savages and then hunted down and exported the all the creatures they had found somewhere far, far away from the town. Many citizens – and a few SeeDs – had been seriously wounded but no one was killed, and the town was saved.

Where they transported the savages to was anybody’s guess, but the prevailing rumor was that they were kept and bred at Balamb Garden for training purposes.

Hoping to join SeeD, Selphie transferred to Balamb Garden four days ago. The candidates normally take a written exam and find for themselves a Guardian Force from certain surrounding locations identified by a map provided by the Alumni Association. Selphie had fulfilled both of these tasks at Trabia Garden prior to her transfer. The administration had accepted her transcripts and admitted her to the program, allowing her to get settled in for a few days before beginning her classes earlier this morning. In appreciation, Selphie wished to do something for Garden in return.

The opportunity presented itself yesterday when the chairperson of the annual Garden Festival – a week-long celebration in the end of the year just prior to summer vacation, complete with various forms of entertainment, both formal and informal – stepped down due to personal issues. No one else on the festival committee seemed willing to take the responsibility upon themselves, so this year’s festival looked like it wasn’t happening. The Garden Festival is a much-loved event by all of the students and faculty, and lots of time, effort and heart are put into it every year. Everyone would be heartbroken should the festival be canceled, especially the members of the committee.

Selphie won’t let that happen. After joining the committee, Selphie immediately volunteered to take on the responsibility of chairperson, stunning everyone. It is quite an undertaking, especially for someone new to the committee, and new to the Garden itself; but Selphie has never been a quitter. Balamb Garden will be having the Garden Festival this year. No one will be disappointed.

Much similarly, Selphie is determined to pass today’s field exam and be accepted into SeeD. Not only her, but she will try her hardest to ensure that everyone she serves with makes it at well. They are a team, and Selphie will not let them down.

This guy must think I’m the world’s biggest idiot, Selphie thought. After ramming into him outside the classroom, asking that ghastly question in the briefing that seemed to have offended everyone, and now falling headlong down a hill – in a skirt, no less – she imagined she had a pretty good idea how he perceived her now. She had made an utter fool out of herself every time they had met.

Yet, there was a certain sense of kindness and understanding in Squall’s piercing blue-grey eyes – so powerful that she didn’t even notice the salient scar running between them until just now – that told her he was a lot more than what he seemed on the surface. She could tell this guy was genuine, whether or not he was aware of it himself.

“Um, where’s your captain?” Selphie finally asked, pulling her mind back to earth.

“He went inside.”.

“Oh.” That was odd. “Well, I have a message for him.”

“Can’t you just tell us?”

“Well… I don’t really know,” Selphie admitted, bewildered.

“I see,” Squall said. “Well then, Selphie, glad to have you aboard. Now let’s get going.”

Moments later they reached the foot of the cliff. The tower loomed ahead, but as they rounded the corner, Selphie’s eye caught sight of a large mechanical construction sitting at the base of the cliff. The boys didn’t seem to notice it, however. At least not until they were standing by the door.

“Whoa!” Zell gasped. Squall spun around.

The contraption resembled a slumbering beast, four insectoid legs spread out across the rocky ground, two crab-like claws resting on either side of its polished face. In the shadow of the cliff, red markings stood out sprawled across the massive metal casing, reminiscent of the blotches on a poisonous insect.

Selphie could feel goose bumps popping up along her skin. She hated spiders, and this was one huge spider!

“Uh… what is that?” Zell asked.

No one answered. Did they need this for the repairs or something?

“How did they get this thing up here?” Selphie wondered.

Their attention was quickly diverted by the roaring of thunder from behind them, accompanied by terrified screams. Flashes of blue crackled within the tower. Someone must have been using magic. Four soldiers sprinted, panic-stricken, from the doorway. Ignoring Selphie and the others they continued their frenzied scamper along the mountain trail, disappearing from sight.

Someone chuckled. A familiar white-clad young man emerged wielding the similar type of gun-sword Squall used. Electricity sparked from his other hand before fizzling out. His hair was short and blond and a nasty scar similar to Squall’s ran across his face – it was like looking into one of those strange mirrors at the circus. His coat was stained with spots of blood

“That’s it! Run!” he called out to the terrified soldiers. “Run back to that joke of a man you call a president, you cowards!”

As he turned back into the tower, Selphie caught a glimpse of the red symbol on the back of his coat. Now she remembered where she had seen him before!
“C-captain?” Selphie called out. “Captain, wait!” She ran after him, the boys close behind.

Squall counted his blessings as they neared the top of the shaft, the light cloudy evening sky looming closer and closer. He didn’t trust the old, rusty lift. The decrepit thing had dislodged from the dusty floor with an ear-piercing screech and a convulsion that had nearly thrown them off. It had been a shaky ascent. Squall half-expected it to falter and plummet at any moment.

Upon having been engulfed by the relieving shade of the tower's interior, they had lost sight of Seifer. They had looked everywhere, Selphie's high-pitched voice bouncing back and forth from the dark walls in the cramped space, but only silence had sighed back at her efforts. Squall had a feeling Seifer did not want to be found.

And then they had found it. The old lift. Squall couldn't see Selphie in the darkness but her voice had trembled as she suggested they go up to take a look at the top.

The lift came to a screeching halt at the grated catwalk, but the noise was drowned by a deafening hum. Squall had never been up here before. The vicious wind ruffled his hair and irritated the scar. The top of the tower was empty, aside from a Galbadian soldier – his red, bulky armor denoting some high rank – fiddling with the control panel. Seifer was nowhere in sight.

Zell moaned. Squall glanced over his shoulder and saw him holding out the beege, knuckles white, both hands gripping the handle.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s… it’s… being sucked away!” Zell snarled through gritted teeth. Losing grip the rifle was torn from his hands, hurtled through the air across the catwalk and plastered itself on an enormous mechanism's surface next to a soldier’s helmet. An unhelmeted, unconscious – possibly dead – young soldier's helmet. He was spread out upside-down across the face of the apparatus.

A magnet. Instinctively, Squall tightened his grip on the gunblade, though it was made of mithril and so naturally demagnetized.

Something tugged at the back of his neck. His necklace unburied itself from beneath his shirt, the lion trinket pointing straight outward. He gripped it as tightly as he could as it meant too much to him to lose it. He couldn’t imagine what he would do without it. He wished he had left it with his ring back in the dorm room.

Next time he would go with his better judgment.

“There we go,” the high-ranking solder called out over the resonance, flipping one last switch. “All done, Wedge!”

The machinery flickered with bright, blue electricity.

The tower quaked, the loose panels rattling and clanking. The floor began to move, plates parting, opening holes in the catwalk. Squall jumped the expanding gap followed by Zell, but Selphie was not as daring and was separated on the other side, crouching in terror. Turbines roared to life, pistons fired, gears turned, engines howled and clamps locked into place. The shaking ceased, but before Squall had time to feel relieved an elephantine cylinder shot up the exposed central rotunda, screaming to a halt at the top with a wind so powerful it nearly knocked him flat on his face.

An antenna!

He squinted up at the newly-manifested antenna poking at the gloomy sky. Just when he thought it was over the antenna leaned to one side as the shaft split into four sections which joined together to form an enormous satellite dish

This had to be the most bizarre technology he had ever seen. A giant satellite dish had been packed into the tower and had now unfolded itself at the summit before their very eyes.

Just when Squall thought he’d seen everything. And such a thing sitting right next to him all his life.

A ray of light emanated from the center of the dish and stretched out into the sky, fading out in the distance. The hum of the electromagnetic field died down to a much-welcome silence, the only sound being the blow of the furious winds.

The lifeless soldier was lying face-down under the deactivated magnet. That guy would have the worst headache ever when he awoke. If he awoke.

“Excuse me,” Squall demanded. The commanding officer whipped his head around. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“Hey, you’re not supposed to be here!” the officer snarled. “How’d you get past my security down below?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Squall returned. “We’re placing you under arrest in the name of the Dollet Dukedom Parliament. Come peacefully and you won’t be harmed.” Was that intimidating enough?

“Heh! Kids,” the soldier chuckled. “Wedge, take care of these teenyboppers while I make final inspections.”

No one answered.

“Uh, Wedge?” The commander looked about. “Wedge?” Finally he caught sight of the man lying motionless by the magnet. “Oh, dammit!”

“Well,” the commander gulped. “I guess it’s between you and me then.” He drew his katana, dropping into a combat stance. “‘Cause I sure as hell ain’t letting you take me in!’

Squall waved Zell and Selphie back, aware of the fact that they were unarmed as he raised his gunblade in defense. “If that’s the way you want it.”

“Ha!” The officer took powerful, clumsy overhead shot that Squall easily parried, and then returned to his starting position. This guy wasn’t going to be much trouble. Another ungraceful blow from his midsection, and back again.

They began circling one another. Although Squall couldn’t see his eyes on account of the visor, he could tell that the soldier was nervous, unsure of himself. Perhaps he had heard amazing things about SeeD? Perhaps he simply had poor melee training? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Squall had the upper hand.

Gritting his teeth, the officer took another swing from his midsection, and then from overhead. He was getting braver, it seemed: more than one blow at a time. A few more pathetic attacks from the left, right, and then left again before the frustrated commanded took a step back, his cheeks flushed.

How did this guy achieve such a high rank with such poor combat skills?

A groggy voice called out from behind: “Biggs!”

The dead soldier had magically revived and came jogging around the catwalk, frantically trying to get his head into the helmet.

“Wedge!” the commanding officer – Biggs, Squall figured – yelled. “Hurry! I need assistance!”

Zell didn’t like that look of this. Granted this Biggs guy didn’t seem like much of a threat, but could Squall handle both of them at once?

The other soldier – Wedge, was it? – came running, staggering, still tugging at the helmet. In a flicker of realization Zell noticed that he was unarmed. Time for some hand-to-hand combat: Zell’s specialty! It was time put his skills to good use. Reaching into his pocket, Zell retrieved his lucky gloves, slipping on one and then the other. It was about time, too. His hands felt naked without them.

Zell rushed forward. “Hey, little guy!” Wedge was hardly an intimidating sight. He was about Zell’s height – shorter than the average male – did not seem particularly muscular, and his blue uniform bore little difference to that of any common G-soldier. “You want some of this?”

Zell jogged in place, fists at the ready. Wedge dropped into a defensive stance, which surprised Zell. While it wasn’t any style he recognized, it certainly looked authentic. Perhaps the guy wouldn’t be such a pushover after all.

Wedge leapt forward, and Zell countered only the first two of five punches followed by a kick to his chest, leaving him gasping for air as he staggered. Wedge was tougher than he looked. The armored boot hurt, but there was no time to dwell on it. Zell’s adrenaline flooded through him, fueled by the power of his Guardian Force as he rushed his opponent and retaliated with blinding ferocity, sidestepped slammed his boot into the soldier’s back. It was not hard to knock the lightweight man down.

As swift as a cat Wedge rolled aside and was back on his feet. He rushed forward, but Zell grabbed his arm, for a fraction of a second glaring into the impenetrable black visor, before a punch from Wedge's free hand buried into his rib cage. Zell easily shoved the puny Galbadian off.

The armor was a thick Galbadian metalwork, but Zell had studied it enough during his training to know precisely where and how to land those punches for maximum impact.

Wedge flew through the air aiming at Zell's neck, but the nimble cadet somersaulted over his attacker. Wedge's balance was thrown and he fell head-first into the machinery, sealing his fate.

One down.

Zell quickly turned his attention to Squall, who, as an expert swordsman, was having no trouble whatsoever with the clumsy, unsure soldier. Zell knew that Squall was trying to wear the commander out, and it was working.

But then Biggs got a lucky shot: he managed to knock Squall’s sword hand aside, and Zell knew what would happen next. Without thinking twice, Zell rushed Biggs from behind and landed a flying kick at his heavily-armored shoulders, knocking Biggs to the floor. His sword skidded away, and Squall stepped forward, pointing the tip of his blade at Biggs’ face.

Biggs looked up, debilitated. “Do it,” he wheezed. “Finish me. Finish me or take me in, it doesn’t matter. My career is probably over. I ain’t got nothing now.”

Zell genuinely wondered Squall's next move.

“Guys, we don’t have time for this!” Selphie yelled.

“What are you talking about?” Zell asked.

“Just… come on! We need to find the captain and get out of here!”

As the lift touched down at the base of the tower, its irritating screeching ghastly reverberating off the walls, Seifer emerged from a door Squall had not seen on the way in. Okay, obviously “up” wasn’t their only choice after all.

“There you guys are,” Seifer greeted as they stepped off the lift.

“Where were you?” Squall eyed him disappointingly.

“I had to make sure I took care of every last soldier here, so I searched every nook and cranny I could find. Hah! You should’ve seen it. The ones I didn’t kill went running like…” He turned a grin at Zell. “Like chicken wusses.”

“Oh, shut up, jackass,” came Zell’s retort. Seifer chuckled.

Would these two ever give it a rest? There was no time!

That reminded him…

“Seifer, this is Selphie from Squad Alpha. She has a message for you.”

Selphie stepped forward. “Squad Beta Captian? Um, I have a message for you.”

“Yeah, I heard that part,” Seifer said impatiently. “What’s the freaking message?”

“Oh, er…” Selphie was noticeably uncomfortable. “New orders from Instructor Trepe. We’re to withdraw. All SeeDs and cadets are to regroup at the beach at nine hundred hours.”

What? That was the message she couldn’t tell them before?

“What? Withdraw?” Seifer complained. “But there are still more enemies around. I’m not finished here yet!” He cocked his gunblade.

“Seifer, we should probably follow our orders this time,” Squall spoke up. “We don’t want to get left behind.”

“I know!” Seifer growled.

“Wait, what time did you say?” Zell asked, looking at his watch.

“Nineteen hundred hours,” Selphie repeated.

“We’ve got thirty minutes!” Zell screeched.

“Then what the hell are we waiting for?” Seifer said. “Let’s go!”

Biggs pulled himself to his feet, his every joint aching, and removed his helmet. His shaved head tended to get very irritated after a while. That battle had left him aching. He hated to think how poor Wedge felt, provided he was still okay. He should probably check on him once he was done fuming at his own loss. Every cord of muscle twitched in fury. How did a couple of kids take down two trained military men?

He was not going to let this go. It wasn’t over yet! He pulled his radio from his belt, set it to a certain channel and held it to his lips.
“X-ATM092: activate. Authorization: Delany, one-one-three-eight-dash-two-seven-three-oh-nine-one. Intruder alert! Command: search and destroy. Removal by any means necessary authorized.”

He lowered the com and leaned against the nearby support structure, chuckling at his coming revenge. It wasn’t smart to mess with the Galbadian army.


The four cadets emerged from the tower. It was such a relief to get out of the tower into the open air. The mountain trail coiled across the nook of the cliff like a serpent and Squall let out a sigh of relief. The exam was almost over. There was no time to waste!

They were forced to a halt as the gargantuan device they had seen on the way in came to life, sprung up and took a few steps toward them, its massive legs puncturing holes in the ground with each step. The arachnid monstrosity towering over them, mechanical noises echoing all around as loose rocks tumbled down the cliff. Squall looked deep into its face, an ominous red glyph beneath its grill studying them with sickening interest.

“Target acquired,” a tinny, monotonous voice announced.

---

I'm still upset that it won't let me go back and edit my first few chapters because there are parts I wish to revise; and a few names in the text have been changed from what I originally had them being in the dramatis personae.

[Cim]

Wooo, you're back! Another fine entry!