Here you Go! The intermission between Parts 1 & 2!!

Enjoy!

INTERMISSION...

CODE-NAMED: KIDS NEXT DOOR SUPER-SECRET MOON-BASE...

VIDEO FEED INTERCEPTED...

M..U..C..H .... A.. D.. O.. .... A.. B.. O.. U.. T.. .... N.. O.. T.. H.. I.. N.. G...

PLAY

"All hell's breaking loose (Unfair and untrue)

All hell's breaking loose (I'm just like you)

Way too much ado

About nothing and I wish you knew"

-Edson "Much Ado About Nothing"

There was chaos-

& then there was this.

Seven-hundred Code-named Kids running around in a muck and a panic. "What should we do?"s and "Highly dangerous situation"s with "Such a disaster"s thrown in for good measure. Just in case everything wasn't wild enough.

She was tired of it all.

"SHUT UPPP!! EVERYBODY."

She was never good at keeping her voice down, it roared like thunder from the top of the highest scaffolding in Moon-base. She walks to her work quarters followed by anyone who will fit inside.

It was he who stepped forth first, Operative Numbuh 67. The only one whose voice she could've tolerated after such an unmistakable order such as that one had been (and it HAD been an order). 67- with his bright blue eyes, barely covered by dark and tousled hair. The look of a true rebel, a rare beauty among the boys (and all of their cooties), with his vow to protect and his sincere words... She felt her heart drip... She pushed the thoughts a side.

"362," he said deliberately, but soft. Always there was softness in his voice- in that way his words caressed her. She was barely 11 and a half years of age, but she was positive. It was love that reached out whispered into her ears when that boy spoke.

The thinking made the concentrating harder, so she abandoned it for reasons sake.

" We have no convict-able evidence that Uno has taken Chad's way out" Uno, no longer a Numbuh. He was a teenager and as such, thought of as one.. "As far as we know he was on a 'mission' before he went 'missing'" He used air-quotes, but he was not playing.

"A mission??" The venom was present in her voice though she attempted to disguise it, "67 don't play games with me. Everyone knows that NO leading operative is allowed to embark on a sector mission up to 16 hours before said leader's thirteenth birthday. It makes them a liability. And as far as I have been informed the time the Operative.... EX Operative went missing was Fourteen and a half hours before said birthday. A direct violation of--"

"I am aware, Commander. There were no orders given. Sector V was never deployed."

"Then..?" She, 362, was red in the face.

A husky, tan, boy to the side of Numbuh 67 nudged his glasses up on his nose and spoke with a of a growl of a voice. "We suspect vigilante work. Heroism. A Solo campaign." The tan boy was Numbuh 144, & he was in charge of the S. L. U. E. T. H's (Sly Little's Using Electronic Tracking Heartily). He was genius. He was also twelve. When his time came 362 would be regretful...

"That's against regulations..." Said 362, unsure what to make of the idea. That would have brought the count of Uno's illegal actions up another point. She wasn't sure they had punishments for this much trouble within the Orginization.

"Yes." confirmed 67. Always thinking more than he gave away.

"Ehem." Someone cleared their throat, "What do we do now?"

A small girl along the edge of the crowd of kids removed a #2 pencil holding her blonde bun together and loose wavy locks fell to her shoulders and around her face. Blue eyes like Numbuh 67, this was 362's personal assistant. She was trustworthy, and at the tender age of nine, 361 steadily, & constantly awaited orders.

She gracefully took a notebook from her back pocket. A thick small booklet full of advanced scantrons and wide ruled sheets of paper. 361 was bored of discussions and small talk. She only wanted action, she kept her eyes only on the prize and the next command.

362 was silent for a minute. No one bothered the silence this time.

"Its Numbuh 5 who is second in command at Sector V?"

When she spoke again her voice was strong. Her will almost tangible. A living breathing being that kept the foundation of the Codename's running strong and smoothly. Those was 362's words. Every Operative thrived on them as if air to their lungs. Soon there would be order among such chaos.

"Yes, that's Abigail Lincoln. Second in command for sector V. Once semi-commander for Special Ops during Trick or Treat season. Highly skilled & highly trustworthy operative, according to O.M.N.I. O.P. (overview monitoring necessary info on persons)." Says Numbuh 361 in her surprisingly un-squeaky voice.

"Good. Contact her. No phones, could be tapped" (Don't need more chaos she thinks).

Already 361 has the notepad out, she is filling in bubbles vigorously.

" I want them split up! I want 2 searching the neighborhood for Uno. I want the other 2 holding down the fort until backup arrives. Tell them we have backup from the moon-base arriving shortly. We want Uno found, preferably alive. I'd like to know the meaning behind this. Orders are effective immediately. Geez why do I always get such a hard time from graduating operatives. - you can leave that part out 361." The words come to her as easy as breathing. Giving orders is what she does. And she does so well. She never takes back, she only moves forward. Effective Immediately. Taking part before the message even reaches Sector V. That is what it takes to be supreme commander.

"Yes ma'am." Following through on 362's orders comes naturally, like the heart pumping blood to the rest of the body. Healthy and strong from the work of the lungs.

"Get on it, I want that sent within the half minute."

361 is already at the F.A.C.S. *Pronounced "fax", (the Fax And Copy Scantron) hybrid machine, feeding through the papers, and addressing them to earth.

:sector V: outbound: is blinking on the screen, as 361 watches it.

"Everyone: you are dismissed, return to duty, orders will come A.S.A.P! I want every vessel fueled and every tummy fed! GET ON IT" They scurry.

361 shreds the scantrons after they are sent. She pours a cup of hot chocolate from the desk and offers it to her Supreme Commander.

"What do you make of all this Ma'am?"

362 sighs and takes a drink, blowing the steam away that rises from the cup. Ready to call troops for individual orders, but allowing herself to take the edge off while the marshmallows melt on her tongue.

"Much ado about nothing, 361. We'll get to the bottom of it. Nothing to make of it, really."

361 gives her silent approval of the answer but in her heart she disagrees. She feels uneasy. A disturbance in the force perhaps? She cracks a crooked smile.

She hates star wars.

to be continued...