-Part 2-   Lieutenant Claudius sipped his rapidly cooling coffee, gazing out through the armored view slit of the bunker and into the distant. Many of the stars were plainly visible in the early evening sky. Opposite the table from him, the SeeD who fancied himself a cowboy sat laid back on his chair, feet on the table. Beside him, the SeeD leader stood up, resting a hand on the back of his chair and sipping his coffee occasionally. Just a few more minutes, he signaled secretly to his men. “Gosh, it sure got dark quickly.” he said casually, stretching in his seat, feigning fatigue. “Yeah, but I don’t mind. I kinda like it.” Irvine replied. “A real night crawler, eh?” “That’s what the ladies always tell me.” he smiled mischievously. The two laughed uneasily, betraying the tension that pervaded the otherwise relaxed mood. Squall took no notice as his cold aquamarine eyes searched the room. The terminal should be in plain sight he frowned, having a taste of bitter, lukewarm coffee. Irvine was being very amicable with the Galbadians, conversing nonchalantly. Stay on task, Kinneas. “Hey Squall, have a seat my man.” Irvine invited. Squall ignored him, continuing to probe for the terminal. “Yeah, what’s your hurry?” Claudius agreed.. Squall was again oblivious. “C’mon man, sit down! You’re makin’ everyone nervous.” Irvine repeated, stretching. Reluctantly Squall seated himself. He turned to Irvine. “Kinneas,” he whispered. “Don’t forget why we’re here, we just need to find the security terminal.” “Hey man,” Irvine replied. “You told me to act casual, whaddya think I’m doin’? Besides, I am looking. Nothin’ here, seems, maybe we got the wrong bunker.” Squall shook his head; The Ragnorak should arrive in thirteen more minutes. He again addressed Irvine. “Evacuate in six minutes, terminal or none.” “I have a better idea.” Yeah right. As he further considered Irvine’s words, Squall’s expression went from mildly exasperated to apprehensive. No, he wouldn’t, he reassured himself. As if on cue Irvine turned to Claudius and his men, sitting up to a point where he was virtually standing. Squall whispered fiercely, “Kinneas, don’t do anything stupid!” Irvine simply smiled. Oh no. “Hey Cletus, ya know what you should do?” Irvine tossed his hair back and crossed his arms, concealing his hands in his coat. “What’s that?” Claudius asked, humoring him. On my mark, he signaled. 3…2…1- “Reach for the skies!” Irvine shouted, flourishing a pair of SeeD pistols from inside the folds of his coat. Reacting instantaneously, Claudius and his men raised their weapons, already prepared to fire. Irvine, being slightly quicker, snapped off two shots before dropping to the ground. The bullets slammed into a sergeant, taking him in the chest. The unfortunate soldier hit the ground with a dull thud. Squall ducked under the cover of the heavy table, drawing his barely opaque aquamarine gunblade. To his left, Irvine had discarded his pistols in favor of the gargantuan Exeter. As he loaded the rifle, Squall rose to his feet and set upon a guard as he primed a small grenade, eviscerating him with one blow, not noticing the armed grenade that rolled from his limp hand. As Squall sought his next opponent, an explosion erupted from behind him, the concussion throwing him into the opposite wall. He placed a hand on the back of his head, wincing slightly, before his pained expression was replaced by a fiery glare and a growl. Gripping the Lionheart tightly in his bloody hands, he raised it high above his head “Blasting Zone!” he howled. A beam of fluxuating energy, which emanated from the blade and thrust itself skyward into the night, answered his cry. Squall brought down the beam, and with a blinding incandescent flash the remaining soldiers were vaporized where they stood. Nothing remained save their helmets and breastplates, many of which had been reduced to unrecognizable piles of slag by the moment of superheating. Squall blinked slightly, examining the rubble and realizing his mistake. Damn, now we’ll never find that terminal, I hate when I do this! Irvine drew himself to his feet, dusting off his coat and hat. “Well, that’ll make the search go quicker. Oh yeah…” he said sarcastically. “We were under attack, Kinneas. Besides, all you did was hide under the table.” Squall retorted. “Hello, I was looking for my ammo, can’t shoot without it!” Squall ignored his comrade’s gab, taking note instead of large group of enemy soldiers approaching them. “Anyway, let’s get back to Rin-, to the Ragnorak before our half hour is up.” He checked his watch. “We have five minutes so move.” “Wait a minute, man. What about Zell? We can’t just leave ‘im hell knows where.” “He’s a SeeD, he’ll be fine.” “Wait, I’m sure Selphie wouldn’t- Oh yeah, Rinoa! You must be worried about Rinoa, can’t say I blame you-” “I guess I’ll come back for you then.” Squall cut in sternly, then turned his back and ran for the west gate, taking out several enemy troopers while as he went, barely breaking his stride while he engaged them. Irvine rubbed the back of his neck, puzzled. A moment later a realization dawned on him. “Oh I get it!” he exclaimed triumphantly. “Squall!” he shouted. “I figured it out, I get it!” he exclaimed triumphantly. “Squall!” he shouted. “I figured it out, can come back now! Squall?” In a moment it dawned on him that Squall, characteristically, was not joking. He raised the Exeter grimly, slapping a cartridge into the barrel. The G-Soldiers were ringing in around him, swords gleaming dimly in the pale moonlight. Then he figured it out. Laughing maniacally, he fixed his rabid gaze on one of the soldiers, who ignored him and continued his advance. He frowned. “What? Don’t you get it?” he boomed. He was once again ignored; causing him to take on a somewhat concerned expression. “…Guess not, well basically the idea is that like Squall makes it look like he’s gonna a jet, and then-” “Shut up, SeeD!” the soldier’s leader spat. Irvine sighed and shook his head, looking defeated. “Well, I guess some people just don’t have a sense of humor.” He said remorsefully. “Oh well, maybe a showdown would be more to your likin’. Alright then, let’s go. Come on, do your worst, don’t be shy now. Hehehe, no sweat!” Irvine tipped his hat down and clicked off the safety of his rifle as his assailants held their blades in high deportments meant for a quick kill. Should be close, Irvine decided, gritting his teeth and applying a minute amount of pressure to the trigger. He squeezed it firmly and at that moment the Galbadians began their charge. He sighted the leader as his Pulse cartridge whined to life, increasing in pitch until it became virtually inaudible. The intense ray bore with ease through the soldier’s breastplate, knocking him on his back, the downed trooper’s head rolled limply to one side. He downed another, but they were virtually upon him now. Squall slowed to a brisk walk as he listened to the gunfire and other clamor behind him, he looked over his shoulder and groaned, exasperated by Irvine’s stubbornness. It’s a good thing he’s a student of Galbadia Garden, that way he’s not my responsibility. For a moment he considered going back, but his SeeD training prevailed. The order to withdraw takes priority, he recalled from his training and the inaugural mission at Dollet, more than a year ago. He hurried on his way, his flight further promoted by the score or so of swordsmen whom had been assigned to pursue him. In a short time he rounded a familiar bend to come in sight of the Ragnorak. * * “One…two…three… go on, eat the yummy Kupo nut, good Mog. All right, one more. Mmmmm! Tasty aren’t they? Okay now, fly! Come on, don’t be afraid, little guy! No, no more Kupo nuts or you’ll get too fat. No, bad Mog!” Selphie scolded, focused so intently on the game that she did not notice herself stooped over the console or that her tongue was sticking out the side of her mouth. She pounded a button furiously, and after a moment sighed in defeat and frustration. “Fine, but only if you promise to fly after this. Got it? This is it. There you go, now fly!” She mashed the button several more times, and Mog finally ascended the oversized mushroom. He flexed his diminutive wings, and then leapt with all his might, only to fall flat on his face. At that point, a tall, muscular Mog swaggered onto the screen, and Mag immediately ran to him. “Who’s that guy?” the buff Mog asked nonchalantly. Mag smiled and shook her head. “Just some scrub, doesn’t even know how to fly.” She replied. The two walked away together, laughing cruelly. Selphie quickly switched the game off and jumped to her feet, stomping and shaking her head angrily. “Aaaaaahhhhh!” she shrieked.. A moment later, Rinoa and Quistis ran into the briefing room, looking concerned. “What’s the matter?” Rinoa said, slightly out of breath. “Oooh, I hate Mog House 2.0! The Mogs used to be so nice and cute, how come they made them all so mean?!” Selphie hollered in response. Quistis bit her lip, annoyed by Selphie’s inclement behavior. “Selphie,” she ordered. “calm down. Stop throwing a tantrum.” Selphie obeyed. “Sorry,” She responded sheepishly. “It’s just that, like, Mog House used to be so happy and nice, but then the company decided it would sell better if they made it mean. Those…those, meanies!” She stammered. “I know exactly what you mean..” Rinoa sympathized. “It’s amazing what some people will do for the almighty Gil.” “Like you ever had to worry about money.” Selphie muttered. Rinoa frowned. “Hey! At least I’m not a mercenary.” she retorted. Selphie gasped with indignation. “Take that back.” she demanded quietly. “You first.” “No way! You are so rich!” “Maybe, but at least money isn’t everything to me.” “Money isn’t everything to me!” “Then why are you a mercenary?” “Why is your boyfriend a mercenary?” “Why you-” Rinoa lunged for Selphie, but Quistis blocked her, planting herself firmly between the two. “Stop it you two!” she yelled harshly. “Did you forget about Squall and Irvine?! We saw Blasting Zone, they could be in serious trouble, and you’re sitting here cat fighting! Rinoa, apologize.” “Sorry, Selphie.” Rinoa said guiltily. “SeeDs aren’t just mercenaries.” “That’s okay.” Selphie acknowledged. “I’m sorry too. Gosh, I can’t believe I just went ballistic like that. But we’re still friends right?” she finished hopefully. “Sure.” Rinoa affirmed, and turned to Quistis with a worried expression. “Squall’s okay, right? Blasting Zone means that he’s faring well, so he should be here any minute.” Quistis looked seriously at the younger woman. “I have complete confidence in Squall’s abilities,” she said, carefully avoiding the actual question at hand. “if anyone could prevail against such odds, it’s him.” She added. “C’mon Rinoa, take your own advice, don’t worry!” Selphie piped in, her characteristic enthusiasm restored. A moment later, gunfire once again broke out, the tat-tat-tat of light machine guns replaced by slower, resounding booms. Straining her hearing, Selphie also picked up a faint ringing sound, akin to that of metal striking metal. “Sounds like things are heating up again.” Quistis observed. As the gunfire continued, Squall appeared from around the corner and started towards the Ragnorak, followed shortly by what seemed to be a small platoon of Galbadian soldiers.. “Squall!” Selphie yipped joyfully. Suddenly she frowned,” But where’s Irvine? Why’s he still back at the base?” “We’ll worry about that later, lower the gangway!” Quistis ordered. Selphie, seeing no alternative course of action, complied ruefully, cautioning,” Those soldiers could be trouble, so I’ll power up the engines.” “Got it.” Rinoa and Quistis replied absently, more intent on readying their weapons and descending to the main deck. * * As Squall reached the Ragnorak, it let out a loud hissing and two jets of compressed air as the hydraulic lift began to lower the ramp. He caught sight of Rinoa and Quistis inside the hovering vessel, calling for him. Squall acknowledged their shouts and in doing so caused them to cease. As he set foot on the ramp, the Ragnorak’s rocket engines roared and the craft bucked abruptly, throwing him off and onto his back, in the midst of the marauding Galbadians. Reacting instantly, Quistis dove to the edge of the ramp and threw down her Save the Queen as Squall pulled himself to his feet, weakly fending off the soldiers’ blows. Nodding to her, he took hold of the long cord in his left hand while simultaneously defending himself with the gunblade held in his right. “Go!” Quistis shouted above the clamor. After a momentary delay, the ship began to ascend vertically and soon Squall was dangling above the roofs of Timber. Rinoa joined Quistis and grabbed on to the end of the whip. Together, the two began to hoist up their leader. Meanwhile, Squall holstered his gunblade and gripped the whip in both hands. With a final heave, Rinoa and Quistis hauled Squall to safety over the edge of the gangway. Squall drew himself up and proceeded to the cockpit while Quistis hit a switch and the ramp began to retract. In the cockpit, Selphie turned her seat around and greeted him, “Hey Squall! Good to have you back safe. We’re just going to go pick up Irvine now and-”. Squall lifted his black-gloved hand for silence. “No, set course for Garden.”                     Author’s Note: I hate writing highly unprofessional author’s notes, but I think I need to apologize for the lack of significant events in and overall brevity of this part. But believe me, something “big” is coming. Trust me, or don’t, it makes no difference…Ha…Haha…MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, GWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! –wheeze-