As the fleet commander of the imperial air force, Setzer's job primarily had it that he stayed on board after the ships landed outside of a conflict zone, while the army generals went to the front to actually take part in the conflict. But, occasionally, there were times his other skill was called for-- his proficiency with machinery. At times when Edgar was busy in battle, they relied on Setzer to make sure any problems with the magitek were taken care of on the spot; it was not only Terra who rode in the metal behemoths, but the elite soldiers as well. Even a small problem with just one of them could start a series of much bigger ones. Celes particularly was always on top of making sure the army she commanded ran like a well-oiled machine, and so Setzer was not surprised when it was from her that he received communication in the middle of a fight against a particularly large pocket of the resistance in Albrook.
It was a routine procedure; he was to go to the coordinates he'd been given, do a little fix up work, and then be on his way again. Typically, such an assignment caused him no issue-- those fighting back were too busy concentrating on the main force trying to seize the territory, that they wouldn't single out a man on his own. He was caught off guard, heading through the back streets as he was, when a man, nearly twice Setzer's size in muscle, suddenly emerged and restrained him from behind.
"Imperial scum," the man hissed through his teeth, obviously having acted very intentionally, "Your side isn't the only that can play dirty. But we were surprised, that the infamous captain would fall for a fake message."
"Fake?" Setzer repeated, although his voice suggested no emotion even as he was told he'd just walked into a trap-- he wasn't even struggling, in the other's grasp.
"The riot in town was a decoy," said another voice; several had started to come forth from the shadows then, most crudely armed. "Less than half of us are fighting in the square. The rest are now burning your means of escape. You're actually greatly outnumbered."
Setzer looked at the woman addressing him; she couldn't of been any older than seventeen, maybe eighteen. But she looked like one who'd been toughened by her experiences, someone who'd put up as much of a fight as the man holding him in place. In her hand was a metal bar... others held planks, knives. He assessed the group, and their intentions, but actually, he smiled after he took this all in, and then, began to laugh.
"What?!" the woman exclaimed angrily at his reaction, and for the disrespect, the man restraining him twisted his arm behind him a bit tighter. That made Setzer's laughter die down a bit, slightly wincing, although his smile remained-- a sort of dark one. "You think that'll work?" Setzer asked, explaining his reaction. "You think I left everything completely unattended? You think... Edgar and Celes won't have already figured out your trick by now?" No one in the group replied, uneasily--but a little firmer than before-- holding their crude weapons. "I don't get people like you. It doesn't matter how many 'clever' plans you come up with; you can't win, and you never will. The 'resistance' is a joke...a death wish." He bowed his head a bit, still not attempting to break free of the man's grasp. His voice was amused, and yet, somber, in a way, and though it insulted those who listened, it caused them to hesitate for a few seconds more.
"...Well," he went on, "I guess you should try to kill me, before I go and tell anyone what you've so graciously informed me of?"