Foreshadow Chapter 4

Moving Pieces

By Peptuck3

Author's note: As I've reread this story, I've noticed a few minor problems. One, namely, happens to be a lack of development of the heroes from FFVIII. I didn't notice this until just recently, and I apologize if none of the other characters got built up or were even prominiently featured, but the way the first few chapters are laid out made that necassary. Don't worry, though, the other FFVIII characters will get their due spots in the next chapters!

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        Foreshadow Chapter 4: Moving Pieces

        Polz walked down the hallway, his eyes open for his leader. Here, in this place, in the bowels of Esthar, was where Illarra had set up her current base of operations. And as with every other base, Illarra had reserved a specific area for herself, including a bedroom, study, and training area. It was the latter that Polz found Illarra in. The martial artist stepped through the door into the darkened room.

        Glowing red orbs, dozens of them, flew throughout the center of th room, some moving horizontally, others vertically, yet more moving in semicircles or whole circles, and some just zipping about randomly, all at blinding speeds. Despite their movements, each of the orbs was contained within a small area, about twenty feet in diameter, inside the projection zone of the holographic projectors that generated each orb.

        The projector and the orbs were all part of a common and popular training program for melee and ranged fighters in Esthar. The objective was to hit each orb with as few strikes as possible in the shortest time possible. The simulations ranged from only a few, slow-moving orbs at the easiest levels, to this, dozens of orbs moving in a chaotic, high-speed jumble, nearly impossible for any but the best of fighters to navigate.

        Polz leaned back on the doorjamb and watched as Illarra, who stood on the far side of the orb training program, drew her daggars and tensed her muscles.

        And then, the purple-haired woman dove in.

        Immediately, four of the orbs flashed blue and stopped in place, indicating hits. Each blue flash was accompanied by a blur of purple from Illarra's daggars as they whirled and struck, moving with fluid grace.

        Polz grinned as he watched the beautiful dance. Seven more orbs flashed blue as Illarra stepped into a spin, her daggers twirling in a violet (and violent!) whirlwind, rising and falling. Illarra was as fast and deadly as she was beautiful and alluring. Polz knew these for facts; Illarra's quickness and agility were useful for more than just combat, after all . . .

        Daggars crossed, struck out wide, thrust forward, and then twirled as Illarra swept into another spin, taking a dozen more red orbs. Over half the whirling, spinning, and chaotic red jumble now stood still, blue and pacified, and Illarra's momentum was only building.

        Slice. Thrust. Cross. Spin. Slash. Illarra tore through the remaining orbs, a constant blue flashing following her purple daggars, a trail of blue, like a swath of destruction, following the woman. A daggar shot out to the left, another thrust to the right, then Illarra reversed her grip, thrusting out behind her while the left daggar rose into an overhead slash, the series of strikes taking five orbs. Illarra thrust again, sliced, then spun around, striking the last four orbs in a dazzling, spiraling, spinning series of cuts. She continued the spin, turning it into a somersault that placed her outside the training circle. The daggars spun like the six- shooters of some gunslinger from old Galbadian cowboy movies before Illarra somehow replaced them in their wrist sheaths.

        The purple-haired woman turned to face Polz as he clapped.

        "A fine show," Polz said, smiling. Illarra grinned at her subordinate's compliment, then fixed her gray eyes on him.

        "News?" she asked, understanding that Polz did not enter Illarra's training room while the woman was practicing unless he had something to say. Polz's grin faded, and the martial artist straightened.

        "Grask is dead," he said. Illarra's eyes widened slightly in mild surprise. Then she smirked.

        "Let me guess," Ilarra asked. "The fool was killed trying to beat a Mesmerize bare-handed?"

        "No, actually," Polz said, smiling at the thought. Grask probably would try to take down a Mesmerize bare-handed just to prove how good he was. "The Galbadians caught wind of scouts around the base. They chased them down only to be led into an ambush. Lost nearly the whole pursuit force, and the base was leveled by an air strike. The Galbadians gave themselves away."

        "Of course they did," Illarra growled with a shake of her head. "Idiotic Galbadians."

        "I thought that was the exact reason we were dealing with them," Polz remarked, inciting a laugh from his boss.

        "So, who was it?" Illarra asked. "Who took down the mighty Grask and the geniuses of the Galbadian army?"


        Illarra stood straight, her eyes and expression suddenly very, very serious.


        "Indeed," Polz confirmed. "Led by the legendary Squall Leonhart himself."

        The martial artist knew that name would incite quite the ire in Illarra, and Polz was certainly not dissappointed.

        "Leonhart!" Illarra hissed. Fire erupted in her eyes, a look of hatred and contempt present in her face and gaze. The woman spun around, looking for an appropriate target. She spotted a chair about fifteen feet away. Her hands flicked towards it, and fire erupted from Illarra's palms. The unlucky chair exploded, chunks scattered to the room's four corners. Polz's boss spun back to him, her anger not entirely vented, and the martial artist wisely backed away. Illarra roared, and a bolt of lightning sizzled forth from her hands, striking the ground in front of Polz and throwing up more chunks.

        Behind Illarra, the blue orbs of the training program disappeared.

        "It seems you've cut the power," Polz remarked dryly, nodding at the projector. Illarra glanced that way, and let out a laugh. She turned back to Polz, and her eyes steeled over.

        "Leonhart . . ." Illarra hissed again, hatred evident in her eyes. "I'm going to savor the moment I wipe his name from the face of the earth."

        "And of course, that moment will be soon," Polz responded, a smile appearing on his face. "Our Galbadian friends, despite their incompetence, were able to recover the technology they were after in Trabia. Even now, Veers' scientists are reverse-engineering the technology. And our own people are ahead of schedule in their operations. When the time is right-"

        "-Garden, Esthar, and the whole world will be ours." Illarra finished with a wide smile. She stepped out into the hallway past Polz, and then glanced down towards her room. She turned back to Polz, gesturing towards her room with a nod of the head. Polz only grinned. Talking about power, and the forthcoming aquisition thereof, had always been an aphrodisiac for the both of them.

        * * * * *

        Random bits of junk cluttered the floor of the workshop as the tall man stepped across the room. Electronic components, wires, and spare parts seemed to make up a metallic carpet in this small workshop on the southwestern edge of Fisherman's Horizon.

        And in the center of it all, the tall man found the mechanic who owned the shop, fiddling with some circuitry that would go into the machine next to him, a humanoid assemblage of parts and wires, complete with complex joints and mechanisms in the face, hands, hips, and feet. Many of the components that made up the machine looked far more advanced than those the tall man had seen in the western nations. In fact, some seemed almost like elastic metal, obviously of Estharian make, then.

        "Ah, yes," the mechanic said then, as he looked up at the tall figure in his shop. "Yes, you are right on time."

        "I thought you said it would be finished when I arrived," the tall man muttered. "There isn't even any skin on this one yet."

        "Not yet, not yet, but soon," the mechanic responded, using a delicate instrument of some kind on the circuits. "Ah, yes, finished!" the mechanic said, seeming quite excited. After all, he hadn't gotten the chance to construct a cyborg quite like this one in years.

        The mechanic opened a small panel on the side of the cyborg's head and inserted the circuitry.

        "Now, I just need to finish the programming and the outer skin . . ."

        "And how long will that take?" the tall man demanded.

        "An hour, perhaps two. I already have the basic humanlike programming, I just need to upload the information on its targets. You have arranged transport, yes?"

        "A friend has a boat standing by for when you finish the cyborg." The tall man gave the mechanic the location of the boat dock, and then fished a hand into his long coat pocket and took out an envelope. "Two hundered thousand gil, as you asked for your services."

        "Ahhh," the greedy mechanic said, taking the envelope. "Thank you."

        With that, the tall man turned to leave, but stopped, remembering something he wanted to make certian of. "The explosives . . . they are ready, aren't they?"

        "Yes," the mechanic replied with a wide grin. "They've already been installed and are set. As soon as I finish the targeting programming . . ."

        The tall man smiled as well, and then left.

        Things were shaping up perfectly.

        * * * * *

        Silence lived up to his alias as he slipped past the drowsy, machinegun-toting guard without ever making him even slightly suspicious to the fact that a very, very dangerous person was but a few feet away.

        The guard stood in the shadows of an alleyway close to ground level in the midst of Esthar's city. Beyond the guard, Silence knew, was a storage hangar for Illarra's transportation craft, and more information about the dangerous group.

        Silence mentally thanked Mache for giving him this information, even if it had been with the threat of a snapped neck hanging over his head.

        The infiltrator advanced down the alley to the main entrance, and obviously, the thing was locked, with a pair of guards out front, not including more who were certainly within, and not counting any mechanical security measures that were installed.

        Silence wisely avoided the door, instead scanning for a possibly more discreet entrance, which he found while looking up around the door. About ten feet above the ground, Silence noticed a balcony with a doorway leading inside the building and a retractable elastic metal staircase, obviously a fire escape of some sort. A single guard, holding a rifle and smoking a cigarette, stood there, looking as bored and un-alert as the man at the entrance of the alleyway.

        The infiltrator examiened the balcony and its height from the ground, and judged the distance he'd have to cover. Too high for a single leap, but if he could kick off the alley walls . . .

        Silence surveyed the alleyway, and after determining the distances, moved underneath the balcony. The infiltrator took a breath, and ran towards the opposite wall. Halfway across, Silence leaped, turning his left side towards the wall. His left leg curled up, and as the infiltrator's legs met the wall, he kicked off, flying up and back across the alley the way he'd come. Silence still couldn't reach the balcony at that height, but he hadn't planned to, instead hitting the wall about four feet below the balcony, ducking his head so he wouldn't smash it against the balcony's underside. Upon colliding with this wall, Silence again kicked off it, flying up and out. This time, he reached up and grabbed the railing of the balcony and used his momentum to spin is body up and over the balcony. As the infiltrator came up, his left leg rose and swung around, Silence putting a boot to the head of the surprised guard. The man's expresson was quite amusing just before he was sent flying away to unconciousness.

        The man slumped, out cold, and Silence stepped past his prone body into the building.

        * * * * *

        Squall finished delivering his report to Cid and Quistis, then waited for their response.

        "You're sure?" Cid asked a moment later, after digesting what Squall had told them.

        "Yes. Grask was definately trained by Garden. I haven't seen anyone with that level of weapons skill in the Galbadian army before. Only a SeeD, a qualifying SeeD cadet, or a Master in the Weapons Guild has that level of combat skills, and I'm positive Grask wasn't a Weapons Master."

        Cid and Quistis considered this for a moment.

        "Several of the weapons instructors at Galbadia Garden have quit," Quistis remarked. "They could have easily contracted out to Galbadia." Even as she was saying this, Cid was shaking his head.

        "Its only been a few months since Galbadia Garden was taken over by the Galbadian military," the headmaster remarked. "Even if an instructor turned to Galbadia immediately after the incident, I don't think they could train any regular Galbadian soldiers up to Grask's reported level of skill in such a short period of time." Squall nodded in agreement.

        "That level of skill would take years of practice," Squall said with all certianty.

        "Which means," Cid continued, "That either Grask was a Galbadia Garden student or SeeD who quit after the takeover, or he came from Balamb Garden."

        "There never were any students named Grask here," Quistis said, with a shake of her head that gave an air of finality. "And I don't recall hearing about a Grask while I was recieving my Instructor's license at Galbadia Garden."

        "And he didn't come from Trabia," Squall added. "We all know Trabia Garden specializes in magic and magical theory, but Grask seemed focused on physical combat."

        Cid nodded, and Squall caught something in his expression. The SeeD noted the lines of stress on his face had deepened slightly.

        "Sir?" Squall asked. "Something wrong?"

        "No," Cid replied quickly. "I'm just thinking. We'll have to look into this while Garden is docked at FH. I know someone who could get us some useful information, an old friend of mine."

        As Cid was speaking, the door into his office slid open. The headmaster and the two senior SeeDs turned to see a huge, bearded man clad in the uniform of a Galbadian SeeD step into the room, a heavy duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a sheathed greatsword on his back. The man set the duffel bag down and snapped off a quick and very precise Garden salute before standing at attention.

        "Gerrard Kerrer," Cid said with a smile at the SeeD. "At ease, Kerrer." The large man relaxed. "I'd like you to meet two of my senior staff. This," Cid gestured to Quistis, "is Quistis Trepe, head of instruction and our student body. And this," Cid gestured to Squall, " is Commander Squall Leonhart, head of SeeD."

        Gerrard nodded deferentially to Quistis, then turned to Squall. The SeeD commander caught some slight change in Gerrard's demeanor as the Galbadian turned to face him. Squall couldn't exactly place what it was, but Gerrard seemed slightly more tense as he faced Squall.

        "Commander Leonhart," he said, his deep voice booming. "I've been wanting to see the legendary SeeD himself. It is an honor to meet you."

        Squall only nodded in reply.

        "You've arrived somewhat early," Cid remarked to Gerrard, who nodded. "We were expecting to meet you in FH."

        "I changed my original destination from Fisherman's Horizon," Gerrard explained. "I instead took a transport to Balamb, hoping to catch you there early, but when I missed the departure of Garden, I had a Garden vessel from the docks in Balamb take me south until I arrived here."

        "I see," Cid said with a nod of understanding. "Well, I suppose you will need to meet with the staff and students here before you assume the mantle of Lieutenant Commander. I'll call up a guide for you, if you want one."

        "Of course, Headmaster," Gerrard replied.

        "And just call me Cid, Gerrard," the headmaster added. "Balamb is more relaxed than Galbadia Garden, we don't use titles around here as much as we did when NORG was running things."

        "Yes sir, Headmaster."

        Squall caught the slightly annoyed look on Cid's face at Gerrard's words, and couldn't say he disagreed with the headmaster. Gerrard, it seemed, would take quite a while before he adjusted to Balamb Garden.

        * * * * *

        The sound of two men chatting greeted Silence as he turned a corner. Both of the men were walking down the hallway towards the infiltrator, firearms slung over their shoulders. The hallway was almost pitch-black here, so Silence was practically invisible to the guards, but the corridor was too narrow. Even if he his body against the wall, one of the men would very likely brush against him, which would be a bad thing.

        But Silence couldn't go back, the hallway behind him was well-lit and he'd get spotted instantly.

        "Can't go back," he thought, "can't go forward, sides are no good, certianly can't go down, so that leaves . . ."

        Silence went up, a great leap that took him high up in the air. The infiltrator ducked his head to avoid dashing it on the ceiling, and tucked his legs under him. At the apex of the jump, seven feet above the floor, those legs spread out, bracing against the wall.

        Silence had perfectly executed the split-jump, and was now positioned barely a foot over the two men, who had never even heard him jump, had never even seen him make the leap five feet in front of them.

        And, as all the luck in the world would have it, the two men stopped, right beneath Silence, and chatted. The infiltrator cursed mentally as he felt his legs burn from the exertion.

        "You're sure?" asked one of the two men.

        "Yep," replied the second, leaning against the wall, the top of his head inches below one of Silence's boots.

        "But, if that's true-"

        "Illarra will want to know. You know how much she wants any Sorceress power she can aquire!"

        Silence was suddenly very, very interested.

        "But if the reports are true, then that means . . ."

        "Extensive Sorceress power from multiple powerful Sorceresses collected into one being, this girl." The speaker smiled. "An easy target."

        "But, she's inside Garden! I don't want to tangle with an army of SeeDs, even with our own junctions!"

        "We have no choice. You want to piss off Illarra?"

        "No . . . but fighting SeeD, Leonhart, and this trumped-up Sorceress is not what I signed on for!"

        "But what can you do? Illarra will kill us if we refuse, or at the very least give us some painful reminders of who our loyalty is towards. We've got no choice. I just hope she's only going to take a small group in, and not fight SeeD openly."

        "Yeah, she's likely to avoid open combat, its just too risky right now. Especially since Garden's one of the targets in the final plan."

        "Exactly. In a matter of months, the whole of the west will be ours. Then we can take the fight to Esthar!"

        The other guard nodded emphatically.

        "Yeah! I'd love to pay those EBI bastards back for what they did to us three years ago."

        "Me too. That reminds me . . . you did wipe all the hard drives, didn't you?"

        "Most of them, yes. The others I just shot up." The guard held up his gun with a big grin. Silence tried to ignore the fact that the barrel was pointed between his legs. "I'm not too worried about the EBI finding anything useful from mere data fragments."

        "Good. Illarra wants us out of here in a few more hours and out of Esthar within two days."

        "All of us? Are we going to Galbadia with the others?"

        "Perhaps. Illarra didn't say. We'll find out when we get there, I suppose. All I know is, the whole organization is pulling out and putting up stakes in the west."

        "As per the plan?"

        "Yep . . . Come on, I still need to do the drives in the hangar office. Want to help?"

        "Heh. Why not? As long as I get to shoot the hard drives!"

        And with that, the two moved off around the corner, leaving Silence with some answers, but many, many more questions.

        Then he knew he had to get to those hard drives before those men did. A slight shift in the positions of his legs sent Silence down to the floor, and then he was gone, moving after the two guards like a wraith in the shadows.

        * * * * *

        "So, what do you think of him?" Cid asked Squall after Gerrard had left, Quistis volunteering to guide him around the Garden.

        Squall shook his head, signaling uncertianty.

        "He seems competent," Squall began. "I don't doubt his skills, and I think he'll be good for commanding Balamb's security, but . . ."


        "I'm not sure, something about him bothers me," Squall added. "When he knew who I was . . ."

        "I saw it," Cid replied, nodding. "He tensed up as he realized who you were. Quite natural for most military personnel when they encounter a superior, so it shouldn't come as any surprise, seeing as how Gerrard hails from Galbadia Garden." Squall nodded in agreement at Cid's reasoning, but still, somehow Gerrard bothered him.

        Maybe it was their similarities. Admittedly, Gerrard and Squall were hardly alike physically. Aside from their hair color, the two were physically far apart. No, it was their demeanors, Gerrard being extremely disciplined and efficient, much like Squall had been a few short months ago. Gerrard seemed to be a mirror image of what Squall would have been at Galbadia Garden. The commander had no doubt he would have been exactly like Gerrard if he had attended that particular Garden, so it seemed no wonder that the Galbadian SeeD would be considered his counterpart there.

        Nodding inwardly at his conclusions, Squall looked back up at Cid, who was checking his watch.

        "Its 19:00, Commander. Only two hours until the party. We should all get ready." With that, Cid rose from his desk. Squall joined him. "Well, I'll see you there," Cid said with one of is smiles. "Maybe this time you'll actually socialize instead of locating a nice wall to lean on." Squall nodded, then turned and left, headed for the dorms.

        * * * * *

        "And down that hallway are the dorms," Quistis said, pointing down the wide hallway as she and Gerrard passed. "Its much like in Galbadia Garden, with seperate facilities for SeeDs and students, and also areas for Instructors and staff."

        "And non-Garden personnel?" Gerrard asked. Quistis glanced back at him, not understanding. "Civilians," Gerrard clarified. "Maintenence crew, kitchen staff, janitors . . . civilian employees."

        "Those are our staff," Quistis replied, realizing the differences in terminology between the somewhat informal Balamb and the much more rigid Galbadia Gardens. "We refer to anyone who isn't a SeeD, Instructor, or cadet as staff."

        "I see," Gerrard replied. "My apologies, Instructor. What about non- employees?" once again Quistis was confused. "Civilians that aren't employed by Garden. I have heard rumors that there are civilians living inside Garden due to . . . personal relationships with SeeDs and staff. That's supposed to be against regulations."

        "We do have one civilian who doesn't work for us in any official capacity living in Balamb Garden, Rinoa Heartilly, but she was one of our clients a few months back and was and still is seeking asylum inside Balamb." Quistis regarded Gerard as he nodded thoughtfully. "Is there a problem?"

        "Heartilly . . . wasn't she present during the Battle of the Cape of Good Hope?" Gerrard asked, reffering to the battle between the Galbadian army controlling Galbadia Garden and the students of Balamb Garden.

        "Yes," Quistis replied. "She played an important role in that battle, despite no real loyalties to SeeD. Why?"

        ". . . nothing," Gerrard said after a moment with a shake of his head. "I've been hearing rumors about Heartilly and Commander Leonhart, and I was curious as to-"

        "We don't discuss private matters like those around here," Quistis cut off Gerrard rather curtly. "Personal relationships among SeeDs and faculty are kept private. You may hear rumors about them, but those come through the student body, and are kept there."

        Gerrard nodded, unsurprised. Perhaps Balamb didn't seem as professional as Galbadia Garden, though the SeeDs, faculty, and especially the Galbadian officer trainees at that Garden would participate in the rumor mill, an action that was obviously discouraged here. Clearly a sign of discipline.

        In fact, the whole Garden seemed like that. A much more relaxed and open environment than that of Galbadia Garden, while hiding a layer of precision and discipline underneath. Galbadia was the opposite, a Garden where discipline and order ruled the day, but masked a generally unruly and somewhat rebellious and chaotic tendency, needing constant enforcement. Gerrard himself had been part of the "push-up squads" at one point, having unruly students do push-ups in the hallways as examples to any other potential troublemakers.

        "Well, then," Gerrard said, gesturing for Quistis to lead on. "Will you show me the rest of the facilities?"

        Quistis nodded, and led Gerrard on. "Over there are the parking facilities. They're going to be undergoing renovations, we've got some ambitious plans for them . . ."

        As Quistis walked on and showed Gerrard the remainder of Garden, he replayed both Quistis's statement and what the rumor mills at Galbadia had been whispering. If what he had heard was true, then that placed Quistis Trepe, his guide, along with the pilot Selphie Tilmitt and now, he strongly suspected, Rinoa Heartilly at the scene of Edea's defeat. Which meant one of those three women had to have been the recipients of Edea's Sorceress powers.

        And that meant one of those three was a danger to Garden, and the world.

        * * * * *

        The door to Squall's small apartment opened, and he stepped through. Apparently, while he and his friends had been off on their Estharian escapade, someone had had the brilliant idea to change Squall's dorm room, this time to one of the small apartments typically reserved for important staff. The area consisted of a seprate sleeping quarters, bathroom, and a living area, complete with a small kitcheneete. Cozy, and much more spacious than he was used to.

        Squall figured Cid had had something to do with the transfer, since it had occured only a few days prior to the final storming of Pandora, and he knew that Cid and Edea had seen the sparks developing between himself and Rinoa and had obviously made moves to accommadate them.

        As Squall entered his apartment, he took off his customary jacket and tossed it into the chair by the entrance. He looked around, then opened his mouth.


        Squall hadn't even gotten the call out when someone's hand closed over his wrist and spun Squall tot he right. Even as Squall's trained defense mechanisms sprang into action, his muscles tensing to fend off the attacker, his other senses told him different. He felt the slender, familiar fingers around his wrist, and caught her scent . . .

        In the span of a second, Squall went from complete ease to battle- ready tenseness, and then back to ease and comfort as his free hand came around to pull Rinoa in closer. They shared a close, tight hug.

        "I missed you," Rinoa whispered into his ear.

        "I was only gone for a few hours," Squall said right back, as they loosened their grip enough to pull their heads back and look each other in the eyes. He detached his right arm from around Rinoa's back and ran his hand over Rinoa's cheek, brushing a strand of black hair from her face. "But, I missed you too." Squall's hand moved behind Rinoa's head, deep into her hair, and he pulled Rinoa closer, their lips meeting. They broke a while later, in need of air, but as soon as they caught their breath, they went right back, this time even more passionately.

        "How much time do we have before the party?" Rinoa asked quietly after they broke for the second time.

        "Just under two hours," Squall said. Rinoa smiled mischevieously, and at that moment Squall realized that they had been unconciously moving towards the door to their apartment's bedroom, which was now only a few feet away.

        "Plenty of time," she whispered. Squall only nodded as they passed through the doorway.

        * * * * *

        The room was empty, save for a pair of desks, two glowing computer screens, and a silent infiltrator, plus two very unconcious guards slumped in the corner. Silence's hands flew over the keyboard of one computer as the other downloaded its information to a disk. Most of the information seemed relatively useless, but Silence wanted to make sure he wasn't at a dead end, because if he was the whole investigation was sunk.

        Silence continued clicking through the useless data, shaking his head, when he happened across an HD-mail, titled "Re: Movements." Silence opened the mail.

        From: Velis
        To: Carli
        Time: 09/14/16 12:22
        Subject: Re: Movements


        This is important. Illarra wants you and yours to meet her and Polz in FH by the 18th. That's when the operation's a go. We make the hit and retreat. Illarra's gonna get us in and out, she knows the operational area, though its been a while. No doubt we're gonna need to haul ass when we strike, the whole place will wake up and come down on us like a pissed off Wendigo. More details there. Make sure you leave by the 16th at most, you'll need a day or two to lose those idiots at the EBI. And make sure you have all your equipment, especially the ones that matter the most.

        See you there.


        Silence nodded, and downloaded the mail. He knew he was onto something.

        FH . . . it was the 16th of September, meaning whatever the "operation" in FH was, it was going to be in two days. And judging by what he had heard in the corridor . . . He'd need to move fast, but Estharian transport would be too obvious. He would need to be more subtle . . .

        Behind him, the door opened.

        Silence was in the corner in a flash as a guard stepped through the door.

        "Who the hell turned out the lights?" the man asked, walking casually into the room. He reached for the light switch and flicked it on. Bright lights filled the room, and the first thing the guard saw was the pair of unconcious men in the corner.

        This was also the last thing he saw, or would ever see, for even as he raised his rifle in alarm, a kinzoku-sensu spiraled past, tearing out the man's throat. Even as he fell, the guard's fingers spasmed, and a burst of automatic fire erupted, shattering the stillness of the building like a sledgehammer pulverized glass.

        Shouts sounded throughout the building, and Silence heard footsteps charging towards his room.

        "Time to go," he said to no one in particular as the infiltrator snapped up his disks and padded out of the room seconds ahead of the coming guards.

        By the time the men had finished checking the room and began to search the area around, Silence was already out the second-floor doorway, hopping off the balcony and down into the shadows below. The once-drowsy guard at the entrance to the alley turned around, thinking he'd heard something. He began walking into the alley, weapon raised, but in the few seconds he'd spent searching for whatever had made the noise, Silence was gone, living by his namesake as he exited the alley no more than two feet beside the man.

        Even as the infiltrator worked his way back to his vehicle, he already knew he would have to arrange transport out of Esthar to FH. And Silence knew just who to ask.

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Bleh, its short, and it took me too long to put it together, but, well, whatever. Too little action, too much talking.

Also, a warning: Foreshadow updates will be more sporadic in the future, as me, being so danged scatterbrained, will be working on four other projects at the same time. Yikes!

Yep, I'm also working on a parallel story to Foreshadow, titled "Legacy," about Seifer. You may have already read the first chapter. I'm also working on "Resident Fantasy" a tentatively titled fic putting FFVII and FFVIII characters into the places of the characters of the Resident Evil series. And finally, I'm working on "The Gunblade Saga" an in-depth novelization of FFVIII, and also an untitled novelization of FFVII. Expect each of these fics to appear sometime in the future!

Peptuck3's Fanfiction