~ Final Fantasy VIII-2 ~
~ Chapter One ~
"Are we close enough yet?" Squall asked, trying to keep his body flat against the mud-sodden ground he was lying in.
Beside him, forcing a gap in the foliage they were hiding behind with his hands, was Irvine Kinneas, who held a pair of binoculars up to his eyes.
"No," Irvine answered, shaking his head in dismay. "We're in range, but I can't get a clean shot, too many damn blue-cloths running all over the place."
"How much further in do you need?" Squall enquired, as he took the binoculars for himself.
"I'd say… another mile at least," Irvine finally answered.
Peering through the binoculars, Squall was forced to agree. From their position, high up in the eastern Wilburn Hills, they were still too far away to be able to clearly make out their target. Even worse, the target itself didn't seem to be visible.
"We might have to get in closer than that," Squall grimaced.
Irvine raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"It looks like the good General seems to have finally turned in for the night."
Irvine, realising what his friend and fellow SeeD meant, shook his head a second time, "Oh man, you're kidding, right?"
Squall's serious glare told a different story.
"Sorry, I forget that you don't kid," Irvine apologised. "So, you're saying that things might end up-"
"Close-quarters?" Squall finished. "There's a high chance."
"This is hardly some under-staffed Missile Base we're talking about here Squall," Irvine explained as he surveyed the situation with the binoculars again. "That's an entire division of the Galbadian Army."
"I know," Squall concurred. "Why, you're not afraid are you?"
"Hey! I'm not afraid of anything," Irvine rebutted. "I'd be a lot happier if Selphie were here though."
"I know how you feel," Squall agreed, his thoughts drifting briefly to Rinoa. "But she's much safer on the Ragnarok. Remember - it'll be her who's gonna save our asses, no matter how this turns out."
Irvine could only sigh in resignation.
Knowing that there was nothing else to be said, Squall gave the command: "Let's go."
* * * * *
It had now been three months since a team of SeeDs best, led by Squall Leonheart had defeated the sorceress from the future, Ultimecia, bringing peace to the world once again.
The peace hadn't lasted long.
It was in Galbadia where the troubles were: a country whose use by Ultimecia to try and take over the present-day world had left it in turmoil.
Using Edea Kramer, a kind and gentle sorceress turned into a force for evil by Ultimecia, she killed Galbadia's dictatorial president, Vinzer Deling and took over the country for herself.
By her side stood her 'knight', Seifer Almasy, a renegade SeeD, and together they brought war to the world, launching attacks upon Trabia and Balamb Garden with missiles and Galbadia Garden itself.
But when the SeeDs of Balamb Garden eventually defeated Galbadia Garden, Edea was freed from Ultimecia's control, leaving only Seifer to lead Galbadia's military.
Under his brief rule, Galbadia unearthed the legendary Lunatic Pandora, long buried under the sea, and used it to bring the Lunar Cry upon Esthar, covering its desolate lands in monsters innumerable.
Yet soon after, Seifer too broke free from Ultimecia's grip, and Galbadia found itself without a leader, or a functioning government.
So, as Central Galbadia tried desperately to keep the order, the countries she had long occupied took opportunity to finally take back what was once theirs.
The dukedom of Dollet, once greater in peace than Galbadia had ever been in war, swiftly drove out the garrison that controlled its disused communications tower, and reclaimed the plains that lay within the Hasberry Mountains leading up to the Malgo Sea.
Timber, a country long under occupation, and just as long fighting to regain its freedom, found they had a second wind with Galbadia's sudden power-vacuum. Under the guidance of Rinoa Heartilly, Timber's many freedom-fighting factions united, and together systematically defeated the Galbadian forces.
The same story was being repeated all over the continent. Almost every day, another oppressed nation rose up to claim a sovereignty it had almost forgotten it possessed.
Suddenly finding itself under attack on all fronts, Galbadia's Army had gone into disarray, mostly falling back to the security of Central Galbadia.
But not every nation could count itself so lucky, and not every Galbadian had lost their wits.
At the same time as Dollet, Timber, and many others had declared their independence, what once had been the Osarchan Union - a loose alliance of island states in the Rem Archipelago - took their chance to reclaim their freedom.
To their misfortune however, the military forces in Eastern Galbadia were under the command of one General Varagon, a master tactician of such renown that his battle strategies were required reading at Balamb Garden.
While Galbadia's forces had floundered in its other territories, Varagon had kept his at their most lethal, and Osarcha, although neither outnumbered nor outgunned, found itself at the mercy of a man whose experience was far greater than all of its generals put together.
And this was why Squall and Irvine were in the field. Osarcha had made a formal request to SeeD. Its request was a simple one: to eliminate General Varagon; an option of much less cost to the Union than having all of Balamb Garden's forces attack the Galbadian forces that were threatening them now.
Cid Kramer, once again Headmaster of Balamb Garden, chose three of his most trusted SeeDs for the mission. Selphie Tilmitt would pilot the Ragnarok, flying the team in and out of the area; Irvine Kinneas would be the sharpshooter, the man who would fire the fatal shot; but if things didn't go according to plan, it was up to Squall Leonheart and his gunblade to ensure that Varagon didn't leave Osarcha alive.
* * * * *
As stealthily as they could manage, Squall and Irvine made their way across the rain-soaked plains of Osarch Island, the largest of those in the Union, and closest to the Galbadian mainland. Coming to a halt underneath the cover of a few trees, the two SeeDs now stood less than a mile from the Galbadian encampment.
Through the binoculars, Squall could make out soldiers of every description among the thousands stationed here; the blue-uniformed light infantry, Irvine's 'blue-cloths'; the burgundy of the more heavily-armoured command officers; and the emerald-green of the special forces, a mixture those capable of using advanced para-magic, and the aerial troops whose jetpacks had been grounded due to the heavy downpour. A blessing in disguise for Squall and Irvine, as it greatly reduced their chances of detection.
"Still no sign of him," Squall reported, passing the binoculars to Irvine.
"I don't seem him either," the sharpshooter agreed.
"Then we've got no other choice," Squall concluded. "Are you ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," Irvine responded, his previous nerves apparently buried, as he snapped shut the loaded barrels of his shotgun.
"Then let's go…" Squall trailed off, raising his head up into the night sky.
"What is it?" Irvine asked, bewildered.
"Do you hear that?"
Concentrating through the wind and the rain, Irvine slowly began to nod in agreement. It was only slight at first but was steadily gaining in volume, the rhythmic, powerful beating of wings, in amongst the cacophony of the weather.
"What d'you think it could be?" Irvine wondered.
"I have no idea," was Squall's answer. "But whatever it is, it's big."
Squall was soon proved right. He had barely finished his sentence when the winged creature flew above them. Its enormous wingspan easily blocking out the overcast sky above.
"A dragon!" Irvine exclaimed in awe.
And he was right; the broad, clawed wings; the slight gleam of polished scales, the long arching neck, almost as long as its tail; and the silhouette of a demonic head. They were all the trademarks of a dragon.
"That's no ordinary dragon," Squall added.
And he was right as well. The sheer size of the creature dwarfed that of any dragon Squall had encountered before; the scales gleamed with a black sheen, instead of the traditional ruby-red; and the head, with its three slender horns, was unlike anything he had seen before.
And in one flap of its enormous wings, it had passed them by, and even though the night was close to pitch, with the veil of clouds and curtain of rain, it felt as if a shadow had just lifted from around them.
"I wonder where it's going?" Irvine speculated.
Gazing towards the Galbadian encampment, Squall's heart suddenly filled with dread, "I have an idea of where."
Irvine slowly turned to face Squall, but he didn't need to say anything, his wide-eyed gaze of realisation and horror said it all.
Observing with the binoculars again, Squall could see that the Galbadians had noticed the dragon as well. Aiming their rifles into the air, they fired as best they could, but either they were missing, or the Galbadians bullets were having no effect on the mail of armour that was the dragon's scales.
And there he was! General Varagon, emerging from one of the nearer tents to the two SeeDs position. Irvine could easily make the shot now, but Squall knew that it no longer mattered - the General was dead already.
The dragon began to rise higher into the air, circling briefly as if it were trying to avoid the hail of bullet-fire of below, and then without warning it struck.
It dived sharply, spinning wildly towards the ground. Opening its mighty jaws, it pulled up meters from the surface, breathing out a massive stream of fire, engulfing the encampment in flame as it made its first pass.
Squall had no idea how many must have died in that first burst, but he was certain of one casualty: he could no longer see Varagon and knew he wouldn't again.
For the next few minutes, Squall and Irvine could only stare in horror as the dragon made continuous passes over the Galbadian camp, its fury and its fires seemingly unquenchable.
By the time the attack came to an end, the entire camp, over a square mile Squall guessed, was burning. It was so hot that Squall and Irvine could feel waves of heat washing against them, and tried not to cough from thick the smoke that drifted past.
Apparently satisfied with its handiwork, the dragon span back into the air, let out a terrible cry, and in the blink of an eye disappeared in a trail of sapphire-blue light.
A long silence passed, before Irvine asked: "So, now what do we do?"
"We head back to the Ragnarok," Squall eventually decided after pausing for thought. "There's nothing more we can do here, it looks like our job's been done for us."
"And then?"
"We fly back to the Garden as fast as Selphie can pilot that spaceship. I've got a bad feeling that this isn't the last we'll be seeing of that dragon."
~ Chapter One ~
"Are we close enough yet?" Squall asked, trying to keep his body flat against the mud-sodden ground he was lying in.
Beside him, forcing a gap in the foliage they were hiding behind with his hands, was Irvine Kinneas, who held a pair of binoculars up to his eyes.
"No," Irvine answered, shaking his head in dismay. "We're in range, but I can't get a clean shot, too many damn blue-cloths running all over the place."
"How much further in do you need?" Squall enquired, as he took the binoculars for himself.
"I'd say… another mile at least," Irvine finally answered.
Peering through the binoculars, Squall was forced to agree. From their position, high up in the eastern Wilburn Hills, they were still too far away to be able to clearly make out their target. Even worse, the target itself didn't seem to be visible.
"We might have to get in closer than that," Squall grimaced.
Irvine raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"It looks like the good General seems to have finally turned in for the night."
Irvine, realising what his friend and fellow SeeD meant, shook his head a second time, "Oh man, you're kidding, right?"
Squall's serious glare told a different story.
"Sorry, I forget that you don't kid," Irvine apologised. "So, you're saying that things might end up-"
"Close-quarters?" Squall finished. "There's a high chance."
"This is hardly some under-staffed Missile Base we're talking about here Squall," Irvine explained as he surveyed the situation with the binoculars again. "That's an entire division of the Galbadian Army."
"I know," Squall concurred. "Why, you're not afraid are you?"
"Hey! I'm not afraid of anything," Irvine rebutted. "I'd be a lot happier if Selphie were here though."
"I know how you feel," Squall agreed, his thoughts drifting briefly to Rinoa. "But she's much safer on the Ragnarok. Remember - it'll be her who's gonna save our asses, no matter how this turns out."
Irvine could only sigh in resignation.
Knowing that there was nothing else to be said, Squall gave the command: "Let's go."
* * * * *
It had now been three months since a team of SeeDs best, led by Squall Leonheart had defeated the sorceress from the future, Ultimecia, bringing peace to the world once again.
The peace hadn't lasted long.
It was in Galbadia where the troubles were: a country whose use by Ultimecia to try and take over the present-day world had left it in turmoil.
Using Edea Kramer, a kind and gentle sorceress turned into a force for evil by Ultimecia, she killed Galbadia's dictatorial president, Vinzer Deling and took over the country for herself.
By her side stood her 'knight', Seifer Almasy, a renegade SeeD, and together they brought war to the world, launching attacks upon Trabia and Balamb Garden with missiles and Galbadia Garden itself.
But when the SeeDs of Balamb Garden eventually defeated Galbadia Garden, Edea was freed from Ultimecia's control, leaving only Seifer to lead Galbadia's military.
Under his brief rule, Galbadia unearthed the legendary Lunatic Pandora, long buried under the sea, and used it to bring the Lunar Cry upon Esthar, covering its desolate lands in monsters innumerable.
Yet soon after, Seifer too broke free from Ultimecia's grip, and Galbadia found itself without a leader, or a functioning government.
So, as Central Galbadia tried desperately to keep the order, the countries she had long occupied took opportunity to finally take back what was once theirs.
The dukedom of Dollet, once greater in peace than Galbadia had ever been in war, swiftly drove out the garrison that controlled its disused communications tower, and reclaimed the plains that lay within the Hasberry Mountains leading up to the Malgo Sea.
Timber, a country long under occupation, and just as long fighting to regain its freedom, found they had a second wind with Galbadia's sudden power-vacuum. Under the guidance of Rinoa Heartilly, Timber's many freedom-fighting factions united, and together systematically defeated the Galbadian forces.
The same story was being repeated all over the continent. Almost every day, another oppressed nation rose up to claim a sovereignty it had almost forgotten it possessed.
Suddenly finding itself under attack on all fronts, Galbadia's Army had gone into disarray, mostly falling back to the security of Central Galbadia.
But not every nation could count itself so lucky, and not every Galbadian had lost their wits.
At the same time as Dollet, Timber, and many others had declared their independence, what once had been the Osarchan Union - a loose alliance of island states in the Rem Archipelago - took their chance to reclaim their freedom.
To their misfortune however, the military forces in Eastern Galbadia were under the command of one General Varagon, a master tactician of such renown that his battle strategies were required reading at Balamb Garden.
While Galbadia's forces had floundered in its other territories, Varagon had kept his at their most lethal, and Osarcha, although neither outnumbered nor outgunned, found itself at the mercy of a man whose experience was far greater than all of its generals put together.
And this was why Squall and Irvine were in the field. Osarcha had made a formal request to SeeD. Its request was a simple one: to eliminate General Varagon; an option of much less cost to the Union than having all of Balamb Garden's forces attack the Galbadian forces that were threatening them now.
Cid Kramer, once again Headmaster of Balamb Garden, chose three of his most trusted SeeDs for the mission. Selphie Tilmitt would pilot the Ragnarok, flying the team in and out of the area; Irvine Kinneas would be the sharpshooter, the man who would fire the fatal shot; but if things didn't go according to plan, it was up to Squall Leonheart and his gunblade to ensure that Varagon didn't leave Osarcha alive.
* * * * *
As stealthily as they could manage, Squall and Irvine made their way across the rain-soaked plains of Osarch Island, the largest of those in the Union, and closest to the Galbadian mainland. Coming to a halt underneath the cover of a few trees, the two SeeDs now stood less than a mile from the Galbadian encampment.
Through the binoculars, Squall could make out soldiers of every description among the thousands stationed here; the blue-uniformed light infantry, Irvine's 'blue-cloths'; the burgundy of the more heavily-armoured command officers; and the emerald-green of the special forces, a mixture those capable of using advanced para-magic, and the aerial troops whose jetpacks had been grounded due to the heavy downpour. A blessing in disguise for Squall and Irvine, as it greatly reduced their chances of detection.
"Still no sign of him," Squall reported, passing the binoculars to Irvine.
"I don't seem him either," the sharpshooter agreed.
"Then we've got no other choice," Squall concluded. "Are you ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," Irvine responded, his previous nerves apparently buried, as he snapped shut the loaded barrels of his shotgun.
"Then let's go…" Squall trailed off, raising his head up into the night sky.
"What is it?" Irvine asked, bewildered.
"Do you hear that?"
Concentrating through the wind and the rain, Irvine slowly began to nod in agreement. It was only slight at first but was steadily gaining in volume, the rhythmic, powerful beating of wings, in amongst the cacophony of the weather.
"What d'you think it could be?" Irvine wondered.
"I have no idea," was Squall's answer. "But whatever it is, it's big."
Squall was soon proved right. He had barely finished his sentence when the winged creature flew above them. Its enormous wingspan easily blocking out the overcast sky above.
"A dragon!" Irvine exclaimed in awe.
And he was right; the broad, clawed wings; the slight gleam of polished scales, the long arching neck, almost as long as its tail; and the silhouette of a demonic head. They were all the trademarks of a dragon.
"That's no ordinary dragon," Squall added.
And he was right as well. The sheer size of the creature dwarfed that of any dragon Squall had encountered before; the scales gleamed with a black sheen, instead of the traditional ruby-red; and the head, with its three slender horns, was unlike anything he had seen before.
And in one flap of its enormous wings, it had passed them by, and even though the night was close to pitch, with the veil of clouds and curtain of rain, it felt as if a shadow had just lifted from around them.
"I wonder where it's going?" Irvine speculated.
Gazing towards the Galbadian encampment, Squall's heart suddenly filled with dread, "I have an idea of where."
Irvine slowly turned to face Squall, but he didn't need to say anything, his wide-eyed gaze of realisation and horror said it all.
Observing with the binoculars again, Squall could see that the Galbadians had noticed the dragon as well. Aiming their rifles into the air, they fired as best they could, but either they were missing, or the Galbadians bullets were having no effect on the mail of armour that was the dragon's scales.
And there he was! General Varagon, emerging from one of the nearer tents to the two SeeDs position. Irvine could easily make the shot now, but Squall knew that it no longer mattered - the General was dead already.
The dragon began to rise higher into the air, circling briefly as if it were trying to avoid the hail of bullet-fire of below, and then without warning it struck.
It dived sharply, spinning wildly towards the ground. Opening its mighty jaws, it pulled up meters from the surface, breathing out a massive stream of fire, engulfing the encampment in flame as it made its first pass.
Squall had no idea how many must have died in that first burst, but he was certain of one casualty: he could no longer see Varagon and knew he wouldn't again.
For the next few minutes, Squall and Irvine could only stare in horror as the dragon made continuous passes over the Galbadian camp, its fury and its fires seemingly unquenchable.
By the time the attack came to an end, the entire camp, over a square mile Squall guessed, was burning. It was so hot that Squall and Irvine could feel waves of heat washing against them, and tried not to cough from thick the smoke that drifted past.
Apparently satisfied with its handiwork, the dragon span back into the air, let out a terrible cry, and in the blink of an eye disappeared in a trail of sapphire-blue light.
A long silence passed, before Irvine asked: "So, now what do we do?"
"We head back to the Ragnarok," Squall eventually decided after pausing for thought. "There's nothing more we can do here, it looks like our job's been done for us."
"And then?"
"We fly back to the Garden as fast as Selphie can pilot that spaceship. I've got a bad feeling that this isn't the last we'll be seeing of that dragon."