AN: OK, I'm sure I *did* have a plot, but I seem to have lost it @~@ lol So if n e 1 spots glaring continuity errors, i.e. where I've said somethin earlier that gets contradicted later, please let me know so I can alter the new plot to fit :) thankie.  Btw, yes, that does mean that this fic now has an end (somewhere :p)

Rating: R maybe PG-13 (R in standing with ff.net's policy of picking the highest rating)

Disclaimer: SG characters are (c) MGM (thankie to Morrigan for that :p).  FF8 characters are (c) Squaresoft, original characters are mine – ask nicely and I might let you play with them, s'long's you don't break them...

Warnings: SxS Maybe angst (I do like to torture my characters sometimes :p), language (prob nothin u ain't heard b4, but still...)

~Chapter Twenty-Eight: A New Plot~

As soon as Seifer stepped forwards and began to harangue Irvine, Quistis and Zell, Squall motioned to Yarege to slip away.  She did so, quirking an eyebrow at the escalating argument that was providing the diversion to the actions they had planned.

Squall, making no noise that would attract the attention of the four in the centre of the room, used the standard field hand-signals to gather the SeeDs in the room to him.  There were only two ways into the excavation site, and the terrain around those entrances had been painstakingly flattened to offer no dead ground for an attacking force.  With that in mind, and knowing that they needed as much advance warning as they could possibly obtain, Squall picked two relay teams of sharp eyed, long legged SeeDs and instructed them to junction their GFs for long-range picket duty.  After some GF shuffling amongst the SeeDs present, so that each runner had the appropriate junctions and abilities, they were sent on their way.

Advance warning was fine, but that had to be backed up with defences and defenders.  A quick question and brief pause to compare relative GF strengths, and the SeeDs split into two groups, roughly equal in capabilities.  Squall sent one to each entrance, keeping twelve of the 35 in reserve.  To the twelve forming the reserve he mentally added the seven guarding the visitors, giving him a reserve force of 19 level six and higher SeeDs.  Then, of course, there were three level 30 SeeDs, and himself and Seifer, both level A SeeDs, even if Seifer wasn't technically a SeeD.

Squall was barely aware of the calculations and thoughts running through his head as he approached the three visitors.  They were clearly from a military element, although his practised eye noted that the younger man with glasses was clearly not a regular soldier.  For a start he had no weapon, and secondly, he just didn't have the vibe that the other two did.  It was something all SeeDs noticed and acquired after a while, the ability to look at someone and say, instantly and accurately, whether they were a soldier, spy, threat or no threat.  If you lived long enough, so Squall had heard it said, that sense became so refined that you could tell even without looking at the person.

"Come with me."  He cursed mentally, sounding curt to his own ears.  It wasn't his damn fault that he was used to being in command.  No, they could blame that on Cid and everyone else who'd pushed him into this position and then refused to let him leave it.  But even as he turned away, signalling the reserve SeeDs to fall in behind him, he saw the group relax and walk after him.

***

Laguna tried, unobtrusively, to squash himself further into the shadowed corner of the room.  He had the uncomfortable feeling that it was a pointless gesture.  He had slipped out when Squall and Seifer had made their appearance, managing not to be seen.  Or so he hoped.  He'd snuck into this room to wait the duration of Squall's stay, after all, there was no point in bringing up the old arguments that would inevitably come up.  He sighed, then flinched further into the corner when he realised what he'd done.  But it didn't seem that the sorceress had noticed.

That was the current problem.  It looked very much like Squall and Seifer had *both* gone over to the sorceress this time... and who did they have who could take on either of them, much less both?  No one.  That was who.  Laguna had hoped, ever mindful of his promise to the people of Esthar, to slip away and send a message to Ward telling him to seal off the country for the duration.  In his experiences a sorceress meant conflict, sooner or later, and Esthar was a prize too great to be ignored.

But the problem immediately at hand, was the fact that he was now trapped in the room, with the sorceress.  She had an expectant look on her face, as though she were waiting for something.  Or someone.  Sure enough, the steady echo of marching feet grew louder, nearer.  Squall sauntered into the room ahead of some 19 SeeDs and the three soldiers from through the gate.  Instantly Laguna knew he'd been spotted, not by the SeeDs or the alien soldiers, but by Squall.  There was almost no change in his stance, which, almost coincidentally, was facing away from Laguna's dark corner, just a slight increase in tension.

"What the fuck are you doing here Laguna?"  The Estharian president sighed and pushed out of his corner, into the light of the room.  The sorceress didn't look surprised either.  Hmm...  He wondered if it had been she who saw him and told Squall, or vice versa.  Or perhaps they had both noticed him independently...

"I was curious.  Besides, this *is* Esthar's project.  Odine is in my employ."  Squall slowly turned around, one hand on his hip, the other caressing the handle of Lionheart thoughtfully.  Finally he folded his arms and appeared to reach a decision.  Just as he opened his mouth to speak though, his head suddenly snapped around, a frown of confusion flickering briefly across his face before being replaced by his usual blank expression.

"Well, it seems as though you have a visitor.  Ward's here."  Laguna blinked, then frowned.  Why would Ward be here?  Unless...  A nauseous sensation began to spread through his stomach, accompanied by a deep feeling of dread.  No.  It couldn't be...  Could it?  He hoped to Hyne it couldn't.  Tears began to well, and the Estharian President knew it was illogical, Ward could be here for another reason entirely, but... 

"Where?"  He whispered, already feeling the numbing sensation of loss taking over his mind.

"Back where the gate is."  There was zero sympathy in Squall's voice, in anything about him.  Already certain that Ward had come with the news he feared most, and somewhat conveniently forgetting that Squall wouldn't know that, Laguna snapped.

"Can't you even *try* and show a little humanity Squall?!"  He hissed, stalking towards the impassive gunblader.  A couple of SeeDs backed out of his way, uncertain if they were allowed to hinder the Estharian President, but quite confident that Squall was able to take care of himself.  "I guess that's why even Rinoa finally left you..."  He knew instantly that he'd said the wrong thing, gone too far.  The gunblade at his throat was a big hint.  The fury within Squall's eyes was another.

"You dare accuse me of having no humanity?"  Squall's voice was perfectly level, deceptively quiet, and colder than ice.  Laguna thought he might shiver, then considered the wicked edge on the gunblade, and decided against it.  "You who call yourself my father, and yet dumped me in an orphanage and spent the next seventeen years denying I ever existed?"  Squall leaned closer, and Laguna cursed himself for leaning back, but he didn't straighten.  "Rinoa is dead.  I swore I'd take care of her, and I failed.  Now she's dead.  So I suggest you run on back to Esthar, *Mister* President, and leave things to me."  Slowly, almost as though fighting the urge to just take Laguna's head off, Squall withdrew the gunblade and sheathed it.

Pissed beyond belief, too angry to actually take any notice of what had been said – apart from the insult at the end – Laguna walked towards the door, turning in the opening to face Squall once more.

"Don't forget, you're not the only one to have saved the world from a sorceress."  Yarege turned her head to look at him.  Just look, nothing more, and her expression was neutral, but Laguna found himself licking his lips nervously, anger washed away by fear.  Squall sneered at him, the expression so foreign that it was enough to make him take a step backwards.

"And where did you grow up thanks to your father?"  He appeared to consider for a moment before the sneer reappeared.  "Well, I guess that runs in the family too."  Laguna fled.

AN: Hehehe... *dances and chants* go Squall, go Squall ;)  Apologies for the long absence of updates ;_;  everything just managed to happen at once to conspire against me :(  illness, coursework and impending exams are really not a good combination when it comes to finding time to write *sighs*  oh well...  whilst I can't promise regular updates, I doubt anything more than a month will pass between them *glares at muses*  unless this lot goes on strike *frowns* ;)