Chapter 1
Classroom 3A gradually fills with the sound of footsteps on the tile floor, the shuffle of messenger bags and notebook paper, the mumbled conversation of a few early-bird students. Quistis glances at the clock. She already has a headache, and a fat stack of transcripts sits by her elbow, taunting her.
The first day of second term is always the worst.
Xu walks past the desk; her fingernails drum lightly on the corner in her usual stealthy greeting. Quistis quirks of the corner of her mouth in return, sets down her red pen, flexes her knuckles.
Slap. A brand new folder lands on the top of the stack of transcripts, wafer thin; even the serial number on the front's still wet. surprised, Quistis slips it off the stack and skims the note stapled to it.
Bunansa, Ffamran M.
Transfer student, Galbadia.
Year 2, Tactical Engineering.
Huh.
The bell rings. Quistis shuffles the folder into a drawer and rolls her shoulders; The first row straightens adoringly, a line of tediously familiar faces that hang on her every word.
She's already bored, but she's learned not to show it. Her smile stretches warm and wide: Showtime.
"Welcome back, everyone. Let's get right to review this morning, all right?"
A general moan ripples around the room. Quistis patiently pretends not to hear it.
"Who can tell me: In a ground advance when the opposition isn't immediately apparent, What are the two protocol procedures most often recommended in drills?"
"Defensive and Offensive bluff," A small bored chorus of voices replies.
"Thank you. Can anyone tell me why?"
This is two plus two for a SeeD, but Quistis needs to know who's awake. She looks over the bridge of her glasses at the front row and the students glance around at one another, all wearing the same thinly veiled expression: You gotta be kidding me.
An annoyed silence lingers. Quistis counts to five, then restates her question:
"Who can tell me the advantages of defensive procedure versus offensive bluff procedure on the ground?"
"C'mon, Trepe, Do we have to go over this again? They're practically the same... thing," Seifer calls from the back row, stifling a yawn.
"...Not necessarily."
A voice like molasses melts from the far left corner of the classroom, startling everyone. Heads turn; one first-year even stifles an alarmed giggle. The student's face is much too young for his voice, and it takes Quistis a second to remember the thin clean folder in her desk.
"I... oh, Mr. Bunansa. Welcome to Balamb," Quistis says, adjusting her glasses to hide her surprise. "Forgive me for not introducing you. Wasn't expecting... well, I only just received your file."
The transfer student pushes his rimless spectacles up his nose. "Not at all. But - That's Balthier, please, Miss Instructor."
"'Instructor Trepe' will do, Balthier."
"Of course, excuse me – prep school habit." His pale cheeks color handsomely for a moment, and Quistis realizes, to her own horror – He's awfully cute, for an engineer.
"But, if I may," He says, still horribly formal, "As per your review: Is the unit in question advancing on high ground or low?"
Quistis mentally reigns herself back in to her lesson plan, and immediately frowns. She hasn't considered any specifics for her scenario. Dollet floats into her mind, statistics vaguely swimming into focus; she recites.
"...SeeD advances from the water. Target's inland by a mile and a half, approximately."
The student ticks a note on a sheet of paper. "Hm. Is the unit in question running independently, or commanded remotely?"
"The hell?" Seifer mumbles, incredulous.
Quistis narrows her eyes. "Independent. Commander's on front line and backup's an hour away, if that was your next question."
Balthier nods – if he's caught her defensive tone, he doesn't seem inclined to make a fuss over it. "It was."
In the front row, Xu looks up from her notebook and gawks. But Quistis would rather appear annoyed than impressed - she looks at Balthier down the bridge of her nose.
"You're certainly thorough. But why is this relevant?"
His lips curve. "Well - Remote command means a unit is more likely to fall back on instinct than take their time following protocol, doesn't it? Anyone who's ever run a drill knows that offensive bluff formation looks a bit like Swiss cheese once the radios turn off. If the target in question is a mile in from shore – and I assume by SeeD's drill schedule that you're inferring Dollet Tower as your example – then it'll be a long waltz in. Defensive is best. No-one in their right mind can afford to get caught asleep on Dollet ground."
The room is so quiet now that Quistis swears she can hear the air conditioner in the next room. The note of pride in Balthier's voice at mention of Dollet tower doesn't go unnoticed, either – a couple of first years send each other meaningful glances. But he's using ground level tactical logic; Quistis can practically see him counting meters from the beach to closest cover. She folds her arms, and finally allows herself to smile in approval.
Seifer's been squirming in his seat with frustration, and he finally lets out a groan.
"Defensive on low ground? Give me a break. Dollet Tower's nothing but first-year drill bullshit. I could run offensive off the water stright into the compound with my eyes shut... Unless the unit was full of mommy's little tactical engineers."
A handful of third year combat students laugh, met with a scattered hiss from the engineering students. Seifer sneers openly at Balthier as the smaller, calmer student raises his eyebrows and pointedly flicks a bit of imaginary dust from his second-year engineering pin.
Quistis scowls. "Speak out of turn again and you're in detention on Sunday, Almasy. Now – Balthier – you mentioned Swiss cheese. Explain this to me."
Balthier's icy disdain softens immediately, and he's all charm again. "Of course. Remote command ruins formation on low ground; it's basic pack-psychology. When the front line can't take its commands visually, offensive bluff loses all of its teeth. In defensive formation the spread is slightly wider, meaning higher visibility on low ground – thus giving less control to overconfident gun-blades who are ill-inclined to pay attention, therefore offering tactics a chance to form its strategy."
The whole room laughs this time; the knot of engineers in the middle of the room even throws in a smattering of applause. Seifer twitches as if he's been pinched, but Balthier doesn't even look at him - he just leans his chin on his hand, rubbing a smug smile from the corner of his mouth with his thumb.
"Class," Quistis scolds, clapping her hands sharply. "Let's move on. Thank you, Balthier, for your unorthodox, highly detailed tactical assessment – though a simple explanation of close file versus spread formation would have done."
Balthier's widening smile is unmistakeably fond. "My apologies for derailing the lesson, Instructor Trepe."
He's good, Quistis muses, in spite of herself. He's really good.
.
By the end of class, the master study panel on Quistis' desk is humming with activity – most of them notes for the new engineer, based on their subject lines.
Subj: Clever deconst., Cheers
Subj: Welcome to 3A
Subj: Good 2 Have U, Bunansa
Subj: Welcome Balthere (sp?)
Great, an instant celebrity. Quistis pinches the bridge of her nose.
But, before she resets the study forum to clear all of Balthier's fan mail, she sends him a note of her own.
Subj: For Your Information
There's a rule against personal correspondence on the study panels during class. Nobody follows it in 3A, as you've already seen, but it's worth mentioning that you'll get detention if you're caught socializing on another instructor's time.
A moment's consideration passes, and she adds –
Impressive work today. Welcome to Balamb.
Quistis Trepe, Instructor 14
Quistis' note arrives at Balthier's desk right as he's shaking hands with the last of the engineering students who have queued to greet him. He glances down at the study panel, then up and across to Quistis, straightening his spectacles with a plainly apologetic look.
Then, The Mob arrives at her desk.
"Hey Quistis - if you got a minute I wanted to..."
"Instructor Trepe - Instructor - Could I have a sec..."
"Instructor, is there gonna be a pop quiz on that Dollet thing in drills on Friday? I just thought maybe you..."
"Quistis - I sent you my third draft over session break - did you..."
Balthier's eyes narrow slightly with amusement. Quistis nods in reassurance - that's the breaks around here - and a small smile of gratitude twitches the corner of his mouth.
He's not cute. He's adorable.
"Looks like you've got competition for the biggest fan club now," Xu remarks drily, shouldering her messenger bag. "See you, Quistis."
"Yeah," Quistis says, vaguely.
As Quistis is clearing away the last of the Mob - mostly nervous first-years worried about pop quizzes - The main panel lights up with one incoming message.
From: Panel17********
Subj: RE: FYI
Rule duly noted. Not easy being popular. Apologies. - Balthier Bunansa
Might I socialize on your time? Lunch?
Apalled - flattered - Quistis looks up from her desk.
The room is empty.