Raiden couldn't believe his ears.

"Space?" he said, gasping for breath.

"It took of four hours ago," said Snake resting on the tattered couch, lighting a bent cigarette. He inhaled, and started to explain. "Otacon did most of the hard work."

"But how? Who?"

Snake looked at Raiden. He was still wearing his skullsuit. Snake had never taken the time to notice how it clasped itself to Raiden's body. It didn't look natural to him. Snake wondered how uncomfortable the suit must be for his comrade in arms. But this thinking was getting him nowhere. He knew there were more important matters at hand. But he needed to something to keep himself sane. He needed to know that he was still human, and that his life hadn't become and endless procession of battles and deaths. He wanted to believe that, after all of this was over, he could kick back with Raiden, or Jack, sipping a cold beer, laughing at jokes and some of the old suits they had to wear. But not today.

"Turns out they had a base somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean," said Snake, taking another long drag on his cigarette, "they've been blasting of components from underwater, which have been met in space by sophisticated craft."

"Hold on," said Raiden, bewildered. His head was starting to hurt. This past week had taken a lot out of him. If it wasn't Rose with her baby, it was Snake telling him about some new conspiracy within his own government. He needed a breather, to take five, so he could accept it all. He was going to be a father, and he was still getting to grips with that idea, but now, another mission. His life was getting more complicated every hour. He retired to the couch opposite Snake. Snake placed his feet on the table between the two, exhaling as he did so.

"How can he be so relaxed?" thought Raiden, looking at around the dingy apartment. The single light coming from the ceiling had no shade, making it blinding to look at. It cast shadows on the dirty, grey walls, and the putrid bed in the corner. The bathroom was behind a door without a working lock. It smelled constantly due to the poor plumbing of the derelict building. He looked at snake with a hard stare. He had to accept what he was about to be told, and he wanted to be brave about it. But he had questions he wanted answering.

"They've been blasting components from the middle of the ocean?" he asked, almost protesting for an answer.

Snake nodded. "Yup."

Raiden shook his head. "Who the hell? How do they explain cache's of military equipment flying out of one of the biggest oceans on the planet?"

Snake chuckled to himself. "Do you remember the sinking of the British flagship Ark Royal last month?"

"Of course," said Raiden, wondering why Snake was laughing. He couldn't help but feel mocked. "It was Iraqi extremists, right?"

"They were on a diplomatic cruise to the White House to talk with vice president Richards, and some top British government officials were on board. Johnson was busy with the Arsenal development, and wasn't available for the meet. It wouldn't look good for the US if we were fingered for accidentally murdering a crew of British diplomats, so Johnson blamed it on a middle-eastern country. But even he didn't know who destroyed it."

"Johnson." Raiden remembered the name well, mostly because he remembered him dying right before his eyes, only two weeks prior to this day. Revolver Ocelot had pulled the trigger. The president had demanded to be killed, but Raiden couldn't fulfil his wish. Maybe it was fate that made Ocelot step in moments later. "So who had destroyed the Ark Royal?"

"Not who, what," said Snake, sitting forward, "that day saw the launch of the fourteenth cache of equipment from the marine base. The launch tore a hole right through the Ark Royal, sinking the craft, killing nearly everyone on board."

"There were survivors?" asked Raiden, sitting forward to.

"Yeah," said Snake gloomily, looking at the floor, "but they weren't around long enough to tell anybody what happened. A squad of highly trained forces surfaced, and flamed who were living, creating an inferno on the water."

Raiden covered his mouth. He was near throwing up. "That's disgusting," he whimpered, "those poor souls. But, what about satellite images? Surely they would've revealed all to the president and to the British."

"How do you think Otacon was able to get this intel," said Snake, beaming with parents pride, "hacked it of the Pentagons secret files himself."

"The Pentagon? They're involved in this?"

"Not exactly," said Snake, "the information flow around there is being monitored by someone, and some of it never makes it to the surface."

"The Patriots." said Raiden, with deep-rooted anger.

"Don't jump to conclusions," replied Snake sharply, "you and I know we can't confirm the Patriots actually exist. We have to go on the assumption that someone else is behind this."

"Who could it possibly be?" said Raiden, jumping to his feet.

"Raiden, calm down," said Snake in as soothing a tone he could manage, "we have to keep our heads if we're going to get through this!"

"We? Who are we? If you think I want in on this, you can forget it right now! I've done enough for you already!" Raiden pulled out his Socom and threw it on the table, causing it to go off, the bullet imbedding itself on the far wall. Snake jumped in his seat.

"Dammit, Raiden! You wanna sit down and listen to me? We are the only ones who can stop what's about to happen!" Snake shouted like a father scolding its child. He wasn't angry at Raiden. He knew how he was feeling. The man was just starting a family, and didn't expect Snake to come calling so quickly after the incident on the Big Shell. But Snake was in dire straits. He needed Raiden now more than ever. "Raiden, lsten," said Snake, calming down, "there is a child that needs your help, and without you, Otacon and me don't have a chance in hell saving him. And if we hit the weapon now, we can take out two birds with one stone!"

Raiden looked at the ground. He nodded guiltily and slumped back onto his seat. Snake, following suit, continued to explain:

"Do you remember the space station MIR project?"

"Yeah," said Raiden, "they had astronauts from all over living in that thing. It was one of the biggest international unions the world has ever seen!"

"That's what they wanted us to think," said Snake, with a slight snigger. Raiden frowned slightly. "Do you really think our government world put up the capital for something that was purely diplomatic?"

He looked at Snake stupid. "Why not? They can avoid conflict with others that way. Whats this got to do with MIR? It came down at the turn of the century!"

"Did it?"

Raiden recalled the day it came down. He was training that day. He remembered being told that another trainee was killed during important exercises. He remembered doubting his own training, whether it was the right thing to do. He still doesn't know the answer.

"Something did crash into the Earth that day," said Snake sitting forward, with a rye smile. "A dismantled Metal Gear!"

"What? Metal Gear technology was available since then?"

"The perfect cover-up for Big Bosses activities during 1999!"

"So they just extracted the data and destroyed the evidence?" asked Raiden, proud that he already knew the answer.

"Bingo!"

"Wow." Raiden was impressed, slightly.

"And I wonder who was beginning his first term in office that year," said a sarcastic Snake.

Raiden knew the answer before he finished his statement. "Solidus."

"MIR is still in the air Raiden," said Snake, "and its much more than just a space-station."

Raiden gulped.

"It is a fortress, equipped with a platoon of over one hundred Genome troopers, and is home to a fleet of twenty-five RAYS."

"Standard?"

"No," said Snake, "this is the elite model. Harder armour, and with a human pilot!"

"What the hell.?" Raiden shook his head. "What are they planning?"

"You haven't even heard the worst part."

"Oh I can't wait to hear this," said Raiden, closing his eyes slightly.

"A nuclear propelled ION cannon, capable of decimating almost any city on the face of the Earth in an instant."

"Impossible!" said Raiden, "there are treaties, and there is no way they have a weapon in space!"

"Raiden, I'm afraid this non-negotiable," said snake in a calming tone.

"Are they planning something?" said Raiden, hoping to god he was on the wrong wavelength.

"Not that we know of," said Snake, "but what we do know is that someone is planning to use this weapon." Raiden looked deep into Snakes sincere face. "Word on the street is that two launches are about to made from the Marine base, supposedly military personnel. I checked out some of their backgrounds."

"What did you find?"

"That's just it," Snake said with enthusiasm, "clean records. And there background, standard military fabrication. As far as the living world goes, these people don't exist."

"You smell a conspiracy?"

"I'm not sure," said Snake, "I just know I'm going to on one of those launches. And you are to!"

"WHAT!?"