It's another Norco Fanction!! That is, a fiction by Norco.
I own nothing, except for my computer, the clothes on my person, and my sanity. 
Sometimes not even that...
norco@fantasysquare.com

No Rest for the LionHearted - Chapter Two

  "OH YEAH, BABY!!" Zell Dincht yelled, as he slammed his opponent hard into the 
wall. He grunted with satisfaction, then leaped to the attack again, delivering 
several smooth, damaging blows.
  "Okay, Chicken-Wuss, you asked for it," Seifer Alamsy growled, getting up and 
starting towards Zell. He suddenly broke into a sprint, smashing into Zell, and 
causing him to land hard on his back.
  "Boys and their toys," Squall Leonhart said, shaking his head in mock 
disapproval as he surveyed the scene. Zell's room. Ugh. He stared at the device. 
It was one of the latest imports from Esthar. A videogames console. Since the 
death and defeats of Adel and Ultimecia, Esthar had opened up and gotten 
worldwide trade and tourism going again. Zell had imported the console, which 
was not yet due for release in Balamb, probably with Laguna's help. He shook his 
head again. Neither of the combatants had moved, let alone acknowledged his 
presence, except for Seifer's obligatory grunt. Watching the screen, he saw 
Zell's character jump up and unleash a devastating combo on Seifer's own sprite. 
The small health bar at the top of the screen that represented Seifer's health 
shrunk rapidly, until it was non-existant. Siefer threw the control down on the 
floor in disgust, while Zell brushed his metal knuckles on his shirt. Smiling 
like a chesire cat, he picked up the controller and offered it to Squall.
  "Game?" he asked, smiling again. Seifer threw him a contemptuous and probably 
venomous glare. Zell just chuckled at him. "Hey Seifer," he called as the other 
turned to move out the door. "Anytime that you want to get humiliated, just pay 
the 'Chicken Wuss' a call." Seifer growled something deroggatory, and stormed 
out of the room. Zell chuckled, turned off the console and TV. "So what can I do 
for you Squall," he asked, still obviously elated from the victory a few moments 
before. 
  "Cid wanted to talk to us. He got a call from President Laguna this morning. 
Something about Scientists, space rocks and dead people. He's asked for SeeD 
assistance in the matter." Squall grimaced Zell's face, for it was the first 
time since he'd seen Zell since the console arrived. His face was lined, with 
wrinkles, probably from lack of sleep.
  "So he's not calling international to ask me about my legendary Virtual 
Fighting skills?" Zell asked, stifiling a yawn. He failed miserable, letting 
loose a yawn that probably would have caused a Grat to curl up and die. Squall 
frowned at him, and gestured for him to follow.

  As an honorary SeeD member, Rinoa Heartilly had not recieved the rigourous 
training that her boyfriend Squall and the others had received. While in 
situations such as the one she was in now, she felt a little out of place. The 
six of them stood in Cid Kramer's office. Squall, Zell, Quistis, Irvine and 
Selphie were trained as SeeD's from an early age; they were used to it. But 
someone was missing... A second or two, Seifer bounded into the room, breathing 
hard as he did so. A few months after the defeat of Ultimecia, Seifer asked Cid 
to let him rejoin the garden, and start training again. A few weeks ago, he 
became a SeeD, just like the others. Cid frowned at him over his gold rimmed 
glasses. Cid did not like lateness. He considered it a tactical delay. This she 
knew from experience.
  "So, what's the problem?" Squall asked quietly, his gaze riveted on Cid.
  "Laguna's probably got a Malboro infestation that he can't handle," Irvine 
Kinneas smirked.
  "If you'd been paying attnetion to what I said to you before, you'd know that 
some of Laguna's best troops and scientists were killed last night, Irvine," 
Quistis Trepe said sharply, a knife edge in those eyes. She looked back to Cid, 
and nodded. Cid paused for a handful of heartbeats before continuing.
  "A few days ago, a small comet, or something like that, crashed out in the 
desert. President Loire tells me that his scientists picked up some weird 
readings, and asked to take along a detatchment from Cronus Wing, Esthar's 
greatest warrior party." He swallowed, and started again. "The team never came 
back. An aeiral search party later found all the bodies, all mutilated beyond 
description. We think that this may be a creature from another world."
  "You mean, like those monsters on the moon?" Selphie asked, trying not to 
wince.
  "No, as in a creature that came from somewhere else in this universe." Cid 
said gravely, eyeing each one of the SeeDs standing in front of him. "President 
Loire has requested SeeD assistance in the matter. He wants to safeguard an 
important archaelogical dig. He fears that whatever killed the scientists and 
officers will attempt to secure the artifact. He'll tell you more when you 
arrive."
  "Arrive?" Squall echoed, a note of distaste in his voice. The word was said in 
such a manner that it implied a hasty departure.
  "Yes, arrive. You and the others are heading to the launch pad in about three 
minutes, and then from there to the lunar gate, and then to the Abandon Plains. 
If there's nothing else, you're all dismissed."
  Squall, as usual, was the last to leave.
  "Squall," Cid called as he turned to leave. "I don't know the exact details of 
this .. artifcat, but I have a feeling that this is big. This was no monster. 
This could be the first wave of an alien invasion." Squall nodded, and turned 
again to leave. "And Squall," The other's head turned a fraction. "Be careful," 
Cid said, and with that, Squall broke into a quick trot to catch up with the 
others.

  Almost immediately after Squall's first adventures as a SeeD were completed, 
Balamb Garden had returned to where it was before the Galbadian missiles had 
attempted to destroy it. The garden had been rebuilt, and with the permission of 
President Loire, had had a landing pad attached to which the Ragnarok Spaceship 
would be permanently housed. The ship had become an official SeeD vehicle. Just 
as he entered the hangar, Squall could hear the roar of the mighty spaceships 
engines flare to life. The spaceship had lifted several centimetres off the 
ground, but had left the ramp extended, as to get into the air as quickly as 
possible. Almost as soon as his feet touched the ramp, it closed up, while the 
ship rotated, and shot towards Esthar.
  
  Squall had never seen the Ragnarok so busy. Since the ship had been assigned 
to Garden, Cid had taken the oppourtunity to keep the Ragnarok fully crewed, to 
optimise the ship's already impressive performnce. The ship was now piloted and 
gunned by 10 crewmembers, and below decks, two small fighter craft waited for 
launch. Also in the ship were 10 elite soldiers, offered as backup to the SeeD 
forces. 
  All this firepower and weaponry, at my disposal? Squall reflected darkly as he 
headed towards the breifing room. Quistis was the only one standing up, her arms 
wrapped around her, indicating that she was distressed. Squall stepped up to 
her. She knew he was there, listening, but she didn't move.
  "I was the first to Cid's office. He was looking through the photos of the 
scientists. I asked him to show me. At first, he didnt want to, but he 
eventually gave in. Now I wish I hadn't asked," she moaned, looking at her 
shoes, and trying hard not to weep.
  "That bad, huh?" Seifer asked from one of the back seats, and for once, there 
was no mockery in his voice. He seemed to genuinely care. Perhaps Seifer and 
Quistis...Nah. Seifer was now busy cleaning the mechanical elements of his 
gunblade, The Hyperion; which was the same gunblade that gave Squall his scar. 
He'd had offers from Esthar surgeons to have it surgically corrected, but after 
a while, the scar had become a part of him. Seifer's not-so-visible scar had 
almost healed over time, now just a small red scratch. His gunblade hung gently 
at his side, the small Lion's head that matched the one he wore around his neck, 
bumping softly against his leather pants. The room had gone almost deathly 
silent as each member of Squall's force grappled with his or her own thoughts. 
Seifer was the only one doing anything, still studiously cleaning his weapon. 
Shifting uneasily in his chair, Irvine unholstered his rifle, pulled several 
bullets from his coat pocket, loaded them into the rifle, making a loud CHA 
CHING noise in the quiet confined space. Squall, for himself, was standing up, 
at the front, listening the Ragnarok's quiet engines and watching the landscape 
pass by. Selphie sighed.
  "How long till we're there?" she asked, squirming in her chair. Squall gave 
her a look.
  "You should know." The confusion on her face shone through, then resolved into 
understanding.
  "Oops," she said, smiling sheepishly. "I guess I should, shouldn't I? About um 
.. now!!" she stammered, as the Ragnarok slowed, and started its descent. One by 
one, the group stood up and filed out in silence. All except Seifer, who looked 
at Squall.
  "Hey Squall, is it as bad as it seems? Will we make it out alive?" Seifer 
asked him, his eyes soft. Not at all the person who'd taken twisted pleasure in 
giving him his scar. How people change. Squall decided that it was a reasonably 
stupid question, since they had no information, and were just a little stressed 
from the photos. As a leader, Squall knew he had to inspire those under his 
command. 
  "We don't know enough to make an intelligent decision,"  Squall reminded him. 
"Come on, let's go." Seifer thought that over for a moment. They knew that 
whatever could do what it had done to the Esthar people was beyond just plain 
dangerous. It was lethal, a force that perhaps, they could not stop.
And together, Squall Leohart and Siefer Alamsy started down the Ragnarok's ramp. 
But something was stirring in the pit of Squall's stomach, that Seifer's anxiety 
was well justified, especially considering what happened to those scientists. 
Nothing on the planet could cause that much damage to such an elite group of 
warriors.

END OF CHAPTER TWO