Setting 36: 1907 DAY 23, Nova Trabia Garden Basketball Courts

"The shades of night were falling fast,
As though an Alpine village passed
A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice,
A banner with the strange device,
Excelsior!

His brow was sad; his eye beneath,
Flashed like a falchion from its sheath,
And like a silver clarion rung
The accents of that unknown tongue,
Excelsior!"

-Wordsworth-Longfellow, Henry

"Excelsior"

"Did I mention how screwed we were?" Zell asked. I probably don't even need to say it.

"Only five seconds ago," Irvine replied caustically, "and for the sixth time."

"Focus, you two!" Quistis snapped, pointing at the monstrosity gliding immediately overhead. You too, Quis. You're going to have to focus and come up with something ingenious if everyone is to survive this.

They just refuse to die! Zell wanted to growl, becoming more and more troubled as he realized how ineffective his physical attacks seemed. The present host of Blue Dragons were even tougher than the beefed-up one he had to tackle in the forest to save Pearl. Even with Irvine's help, they had only managed to cow three of the forty or so.

"The scans I have been doing say they are all above level 60," Selphie informed them wearily, "with unexpected high defense quotients."

"Gee, you think?" Irvine grumbled sarcastically, miffed at having to stop and reload his rifle yet again. He took a split-second to survey the rest of the grounds and could hardly contain a worried sigh. The battle that had just began looked like it was about to end. The line of lower level SeeDs they had fallen or were hopelessly surrounded. Garden forces were outnumbered three to one, and ideally if each of them could take down three brutes before succumbing, then they would have a chance.

As discouraging to his students as he knew it would sound, coming from an Instructor, Irvine cursed aloud. They were nowhere near that three to one target ratio. The four of them, all level A SeeDs, were having enough trouble together handling just one of the enemy.

I keep telling Cid that they need a head-count, bounty incentive for killing monsters. The hourly wage system just won't cut it, Trepe thought in exasperation.

She turned and scowled at Selphie and the rest of the officer crew.

"What are you still doing here?" Quistis shouted at them. "Spread out, each of you, with two lower level SeeDs in separate teams of three."

"I want that purple-haired one with the scythe," Irvine called quickly.

Zell followed the direction that Irvine was pointing in. Hey, no fair! I wanted that one!

"Hyne take it all! This isn"t recess dodgeball, you two!" Quistis screamed. "We aren't picking teams in turns!" To Diablos with them! Neither is close enough to kick!

"Got any handy tactics you would suggest we implement, Quis?" Irvine called back, already sprinting towards the purple-haired SeeD.

Seeing Irvine taking off, Zell vowed that he wouldn't be outdone and began racing towards the same target.

Not so recklessly! she beseeched them silently. She flung her whip out to mid-distance and stung a flier who had seen the two men making their way across the court and would have swooped down to intercept them. The lash across the snout brought the creature to Irvine's attention and bought him enough of a delay to roll out of the way of the monster's jaws. Lying flat against the concrete, Irvine brought the Exeter level with one hand in line with beast as it came around for a second bite. When he found himself staring straight down the barrel and directly into the hungry yellow eyes, he pulled the trigger. A quick explosion erupted and the enemy reeled back into a dive straight into the ground where it remained thrashing in pain.

The two over-adventurous undergraduate female medics who were huddling beneath the archway entrance to the quad jittered in delight.

"He's so cool!" they exclaimed in shrill voices, waving their hands to fan off the sensational, woozy heat they were feeling. Suddenly aware that they might be inviting a danger far greater than the pack of oversouled Blue Dragons, the two girls rediscovered their modesty and checked to see if Instructor Tilmitt was out of hearing range. Seeing that she was, the medics sighed in relief and returned to staring at their idol.

"Good call, Irvine," Quistis shouted from the other side of the court. She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted at the other SeeDs, "There's too many of them! Don't concentrate on killing them, just blind as many as you can!"

"Yo, Zell," Irvine called out to the SeeD nearest to him, "you got any ammo on you? My inventory is getting cleared out pretty quickly."

Zell nodded hastily and dug in his pockets like a gopher on a sugar-high. Not to let him stand there in complete vulnerability, Irvine moved towards him and covered him with his last three bullets. They found themselves pressed back to back in the midst of a nightmarish cyclone of winged serpents circling overhead, around, and making fly-by swipes from all angles. The forty seemed like thousands, swarm-like, clustering here and there, one replacing the one before it. The hum of locust wings spiced with the piercing shriek of fanged demons and sprinkled with lost shouts of wounded men.

If the number of bodies hitting and staying on the ground was growing, it was due to their numbers, not of the dragons. Incredulous, Irvine surveyed the scene quickly. No healers, so are they regenerating themselves?

Indeed, none of his shots seemed to land on any previously injured individual. We can't kill any of them, not even one this way, if we don't concentrate all our firepower on–

Irvine's eyes widened in panic for the first time and looked around for Quistis. It had just dawned on him why sending a squadron of a single creature type, normally disadvantageous, was a particular threat in this situation.

Not seeing Quistis anywhere, he settled for Zell.

"Yo, Dincht," Irvine said nervously, "I think we got a problem."

"Well, duh," his tattooed companion responded.

"No, no, our battle plan is all wrong," Irvine explained. "They're doing tag-team, changing places so that the wounded mutts fall back immediately after taking hits. We're always going to face a fresh enemy, and we're never going to drop any of them." I can't believe I didn't notice it until now. It's because they all look the same and are circling about so quickly. One disappears back into formation and when the next one breaks out in perfect timing, it looks like the first one.

"Our battle plan, you said?" Zell asked, almost in a scoff. "What plan? We don't even have a strategy!"

Having found two rounds of Pulse Ammo and thirty normal ones, he hurriedly shoved them into Irvine's extended, open palm.

Then, looking overhead and finding that Irvine was right, he cursed beneath his breath. The dragons were indeed rotating, but the job-shifts were so synchronized and fluid that it looked as if no rotation was taking place.

Both Kinneas and Dincht took a moment to stare open-mouthed at the awesome coordination of what they had until today mistakenly considered mindless brutes.

The two exchanged glances.

"We need a new leader," the SeeDs said in harmony.

They turned their eyes back to the battlefield for a second survey.

"We need a new army," the SeeDs muttered their assessment together.

The next wave of dragons had broken circling formation and began their descent towards them. To their left, twenty paces away, a heavily injured and isolated fighter was calling desperately for help. Realizing that everyone was occupied and that it was probably his own ill fortune for getting separated from any allies, his mind stopped reasoning and he relapsed into a paralyzing panic of unsightly shrieks. Even as Irvine moved his gun over to shield the SeeD, the man was cut down from behind by a different attacker.

"Damn it! That's another pay-cut for all of us," Irvine swore angrily. Even if I survive this, Cid is going to kill me.

Zell grunted, indicating agreement. I didn't know him personally, but that one was a Level 12. They took freaking forever to train. We're getting massacred out here!

Far from being insensitive to death, Irvine was merely aware of and resigned to the fact that the grisly business they had just witnessed would not be the only fatality on the grounds today. To lose composure over a single instance would needlessly increase the body count.

"Irvine," Zell said over his shoulder, "I freestyle better without having to lean against anything. We need to split up and find our own support mini-teams before there aren't enough of them left to form teams with."

"Roger that," Irvine concurred. "Just make sure they cover you long enough for you to take an enemy out, one-on-one. Once you engage, don't let it get back up in the sky or you'll be facing a brand new one, exhausting yourself with nothing to show for it."

Zell nodded and took off towards two other SeeDs who had surrounded and gone back-to-back for reduce their respective defense loads. Along the way he had to somersault over a head-on tackle and slide under a subsequent glider who would have taken off his head.

"You two," he called out to the long spear and dual dagger users when they were within hearing range, "cover me and each other while I take them out one at a time, got it?"

Obviously relieved by his arrival and invigorated by the prospect of fighting along side one of the legendary personages who had traveled through Time Compression and lived to tell about it, the younger SeeDs actually mustered enough spirit for nervous smiles and nodded.

"It's boogie-time!" Zell hooted, amazing anyone who still had a sane grasp of the events on the field.

Having made sure that Zell was safely settled, Irvine began looking around for his own small squad. It was exceedingly difficult to identify any comrades in the obscuring cloud of enemies except for those who were already lying lifelessly on the ground here and there with various body parts missing.

It's times like these that I wish I had taken up two revolvers instead of the rifle during my initial training, Irvine regretted.

Just as the thought was souring in his mouth, one of survivors came running up to him.

"Tell me you're a long-range weapon specialist," Irvine yelled as they closed the distance between them.

"Bow and arrow, sir," the underclassman answered hopefully.

"Good enough," Irvine replied. "If you're carrying any bullets, I'll take your next SeeD level promotion exam for you."

The archer managed a tense chuckle and fumbled around in his belt pouch before taking out twenty Fire-Shot bullets and handing them to the eager Garden Instructor.

Irvine eyed his new toys hungrily and then looked up at the gloomy sky, blotched out by the scaled ravens of carnage immortal. His sights closed in on a weaker flier with a clipped wing.

"Who feels like chicken tonight?" he mouthed and loaded the bullets without looking away from his next target. To his second, he ordered, "Cover me, soldier."

As the archer began releasing one unerring arrow after another at any that approached them, he communicated with a shaky voice, "I don't think we received the proper training for this contingency, Instructor."

"If you live through this, you can file to have half of your tuition returned at the end of the semester," Irvine offered wryly.

Cocking the gun he pulled high and wailed on the already hurt dragon. The malicious stream of bullets made a hole in the sky that only closed after the beast dropped to the court floor, cracking the pavement.

Satisfied with his work, he blew the smoke from the barrel and struck a Napoleonic pose. For a minute he thought he heard two flustered cheers of "He's so cool!" in the distance, but he quickly dismissed it as mere ringing in his ears from the gun shots.

There was a rush of air from behind him. Sensing danger and hearing the labored flap of wings, he ducked just barely in time from the unforgiving claws of an unscrupulous sneak attacker in his blind-spot. The elongated nails dug into his cowboy hat and carried it off of his head.

"Noooooooooooooooo!" he hollered into the far-echoing wilderness. Stella's hat!

But the hat stuck to the creature's talon was a perfect give-away as to which fiend was culprit. Irvine waited until it was thirty meters away before showering it with heartfelt lead compliments. The monster convulsed and then fell three flights, nearly hitting a figure dressed in bright yellow.

Selphie! Irvine inhaled sharply upon recognition.

The transient moment of happiness was replaced by a shocking realization. Impossible from Selphie's view to read, from a distance Irvine could see that two dragons from separate formations were mirroring each other's movements. He quickly read the trajectory of their inverted parabolic dive and saw that they were going to try to sandwich her. Even if she did notice one in time to stop it, the other would smash into her from behind.

"Selphie!" he hollered and waved with both hands over his head. "Look out!"

Somehow or another she heard her name being called, but the rest of his speech was apparently garbled. She took a second to look in his direction curiously but failed to see what he was trying with his gun to point to. In the end, Selphie took it for a good luck hail and waved back cutely with both hands.

"I hope she gets eaten," one of the female medics whispered to the other.

"Yeah, skimpy and yellow are soooo out of fashion," the other Irvine-worshipper replied.

The clasped their hands together and waited in eager anticipation of the removal of their greatest obstacle of happiness.

Still ignorant of the peril she was in, Selphie had perchance noticed that the retired dragon that had fallen at her feet earlier was carrying something on its foot.

Irvine's hat! she made out, and put down her nunchakus so as to be better able to pull it off of the stiff cadaver. That must be why he's waving. He wants to me keep his hat safe for until the end of the battle.

Suddenly she blushed at an alternative realization. Maybe it's the other way around. He wants his hat to keep me safe until the end of the battle.

Selphie felt and rush of emotion and reflected gleefully that it was his favorite hat that he hated being parted with. Hugging it close to her bosom, she swore that she would even mend the hole in it for him after the fight.

"What in tarnations is she doing?" Irvine shouted angrily. He was so furious that he did not realize that he was holding the lower level SeeD by the collar and shaking him.

"Um, I don't know, sir," the shaken archer tried to cut in, "but I could use some help here with maintaining the perimeter." I could use some oxygen too…

Kinneas let go of the lad and then grabbed his grade-A, salon-treated hair with both hands and ruffled the make in frustration. Things were happening too quickly, his responsibilities too many, his options too few, and the odds stacked too formidably against him. His own share of enemies closing in from all sides, he was at a loss as to how best to free Selphie from the trap already set in motion. By his estimation, she had no more than four seconds before the two monsters collided and broke all the bones of her petite frame.

It's now or never, he reckoned.

He called out to his Guardian Force, Jumbo Cactuar, to begin the sequence for full blanket coverage and pointed counter-attack, temporarily freeing them from defense duty. As he was doing this, he dropped to one knee and brought the Exeter level with his shoulder. There was only one bullet left in the barrel and though he had the ammunition to do it, there would be no time to reload. Everything would have to ride on the next shot.

Not meaning to disturb the superior SeeD, the young archer held his tongue and refrained from asking Irvine how he planned on stopping two speed-maxed, charging Blue Dragons with a single bullet. It seemed impossible, especially with mere Normal Ammo.

Maybe if he had refined two of them into a Double Shot, she might have a chance, he thought, heart pumping in overdrive and sweating profusely.

"This is where you learn something useful that they don't teach you in the certified Trepe manuals, junior," Irvine rasped with a slightly drier mouth than usual and clearing his sights. He zoned out the background noise, factored in the wind, adjusted for the distance, and, lest it affect his shot with its jostle, calmed his heartbeat by counting down to himself. Three…two…one…

A split second later the fated round was fired and all three underclassmen spectators gasped as it found its target.

Nearly an eighth of a kilometer away, Selphie Tilmitt was knocked off her feet and thrown back two meters at impact. Clutching her cleanly pierced left shoulder, she fell with a pained cry, the spurts of blood from the wound escaping between her fingers and leaving a parabolic trail of red spray.

With no buffer in between them, the two dragons smashed straight into each other at full speed with a thunderous clap and the snapping of vertebrae and ripping of wing cartilage audibly erupted. Judging from the sight and sound, it was a safe bet that the two were permanently immobilized.

"Haha!" the young SeeD cried, jumping up and down. "You did it, Instructor Kinneas. I don't believe it, but you did it!"

Actually, the rifleman reasoned soberly, we were just lucky that Selphie had not summoned Pandemona in that time frame. The GF would have taken the bullet and Selphie would have gone bumper to bumper between those freight trains.

Still, he could not be more satisfied with the result. Irvine closed his eyes and inhaled for the first time in a long time. Had he kept his eyes open and looked back towards the main Garden compound, he would have seen two very disappointed underclasswomen medics bemoaning themselves of their tough luck and sobbing on each other's shoulders in bitter disbelief.

Not losing any more time than it took for the breath of relief, Irvine motioned for the archer to shoot with him together. The summoning preparations having finished, the Jumbo Cactuar was sailing down from the sky and they synched their weapons together to finish off as many targets as they could in the time that the GF took in maiming them. After it was finished and phase-shifting out of their plane, five fresh dragon hides decorated the devastated basketball court.

Exhausted, Irvine looked over to check on his friends. Zell and his two had managed to pin three down without the help of any Guardian Forces or magic. In light of Zell's obvious disadvantage of being close-range combat weapon pitted against fliers, it was a remarkable accomplishment. Quistis and a stray SeeD that she had picked up had, as a duo, retired six dragons with the help of Shiva, who Irvine saw de-materializing back into the netherworld. The icy deity paused to blow him a kiss when she caught him looking, and then vanished.

The tide was turning, but not significantly. Their own numbers had dwindled down to eight in total with twenty-odd dragons still lunging at them without respite. Somehow Quistis and the other SeeD made their way to Selphie's side before she could be picked off. The bullet wound had saved her life, but at the heavy cost of decommissioning her from the remainder of combat.

Irvine rubbed his forehead and resumed loading his rifle. He was down to his last refill. Looking over at his companion's quiver, he realized that together there would only be enough firepower to mount one final volley. After that, it would be up to the GFs and the other two teams. He, Selphie, and the archer would become deadweight with no conceivable way for the five of them to take on the twenty enemies.

Irvine cocked his gun.

Nothing has changed much since the day I watched Stella die, he figured sadly. There are still parts of the battle in which I am completely useless.

The buzzard-like reptiles had finished regrouping.

"Instructor Kinneas," the SeeD beside him cautioned, "Here they come again."

The tone of his voice told Irvine all he needed to know. We don't have a prayer, do we?

"I'm sorry I can't take that next SeeD examination for you," Irvine apologized earnestly as he raised his gun skyward.

"And I'm sorry I wasn't more useful to you, sir," the other responded dejectedly. "I've let you and Commander Leonhart down, and wasted your time with my training."

Irvine shook his head. If Squall could be here and hear you say that, he would probably demote himself two levels out of guilt.

"You have nothing to apologize for, SeeD," Irvine replied. "It's been a privilege to fight with you." Where the Ifrit is Squall, anyway?

"The honor was all mine, sir," the SeeD answered.

The first new wave of bombardments from the dragons was well in the optimal firing range, but neither moved a finger.

"You know, I never asked for your name, soldier," Kinneas commented with a tinge of embarrassment.

The SeeD nodded after the non-combat-oriented question registered and was processed in his mind.

"I was in the Mercenary Ethics 101 seminar you led last week, sir," he replied. "You never did call on me in there."

From Quistis' view, Irvine and the other boy were in trouble. The frequency of their firing had decreased dramatically in the last few minutes following their brilliant but thoughtlessly ill-rationed projectile bash they'd unleashed during Jumbo Cactuar's attack. After witnessing a few more shots, Quistis realized that they had stopped firing altogether and were passively dodging the enemy's strikes. Pretty soon the potshots would turn into full assailments once they picked up on the clue whose conclusion Quistis was already dreading.

Indeed, the fair distance that the dragons had kept during the stages in which the SeeDs' retaliation was possible was already closing. In addition, a dense cluster of six or more of them had taken the airspace around the main exit from the court into the Garden, cutting off their retreat. The secondary exit to the garage was even farther away from where Irvine was haplessly stranded.

They can't get out of there in time even to make a run for it, she judged. But maybe I can buy them enough time to make a run towards me.

Honey, Shiva nudged her, you're bleeding.

She was referring to the nasty cut on Quistis' forearm. She hadn't been nearly as agile as she thought she was in evading a previous attack.

Don't worry about it. Quistis dismissed the concern. It's just a scratch.

Still, the GF pouted, you should get it checked for rabies once we get back. Maybe a tetanus shot or two would help. Otherwise, you'll beginning slobbering like Cerberus and that would just be ick–

"Shiva," she ordered aloud, "I need you to give us more cover again, but this time aim your Diamond Dust in a column towards those bastard lizards surrounding Irvine." And please, for once, could you just screw your GF calisthenics and skip straight to the damage-dealing part?

Instead of listening to Shiva's complaints about how warming-up was necessary to avoid possible muscle injury, Quistis used the time to indicate to the younger SeeD that she needed him to carry Selphie and to follow her lead. He nodded and heaved her onto his shoulder.

Retracting her whip, Trepe made a break towards Irvine, praying that he would look around and realize that his only viable option was to consolidate their numbers. It was probably too much to hope too that Zell would catch on to this last-ditch effort and act accordingly. An eighth of a kilometer would be a fatiguing haul in the brief window of time that Shiva could afford her.

In the midst of all of this, Selphie's new globally-active Dokomo cell phone started ringing.

Just what we needed, Quistis thought vehemently. Another distraction.

"Can't you reach into your pocket and turn that off for a minute, Selphie?" she snapped, making no effort to hide her annoyance.

"But it's MY Dokomo!" Selphie huffed petulantly. Unfortunately, she overexerted herself and pulled a muscle. Lapsing into a groan, she only managed to finish her appraisal half-heartedly. "It works wherever."

This is so childish, Quistis supposed, feeling an urge to hold her head and massage her temples.

Then something amazing happened. Even before Shiva could unleash her ice attack, Quistis saw Zell and his party dashing towards the center of the field and closing the distance between all three teams. She wondered briefly whether he was moving in reaction to her movement or because he too noticed that Irvine was in dire straits. More important, though, was the matter of whether or not Irvine would pick up on this last-minute plan. The puzzle was no good without its final corner.

Come on, Irvine, she tried furiously to project her thoughts. Try to read us. It's page 87, paragraph 3, clause 2 in my tactics manual for Hyne's sake! This is back to basics!

"Don't worry, Quisty," moaned Selphie reassuringly from behind her, clearly conscious of the bumpy ride she was having on the SeeD's shoulder as they trekked the spatial gap. "Irvy'll do it. I know he will. He's brighter than he looks."

Somewhat encouraged by her remark though not exactly convinced by her line of reasoning, Quistis found a renewed burst of energy and was able to pick up the pace. An instant later she felt an acute coolness from bursts of ice passing by overhead. Once they reached their target location, they would be indiscriminating in taking down all life forms in the sector.

Come on, Irvine, get out of there!

Shiva's thoughts echoed in her own mind on how this plan could backfire if he didn't look over at this instant and let this final indicator tip him off. There was no guarantee otherwise that the launched shards of crystal ice wouldn't land on him as well.

Oh, dear, Shiva worried, Maybe I should have waited a bit longer. Now Irvy only has about thirty seconds to clear the area. I hope his feet work faster than his mind.

"Or, that he runs, more smoothly, than he talks," Quistis muttered between breaths.

Selphie chuckled weakly.

"That's not possible," she sighed. "At best the two are the same speed – when he runs his mouth off."

Shiva either did not understand the joke or chose to ignore it because she made no other mental-comment other than, ETA is fifteen seconds.

Just as Quistis feared the worse, level A SeeD and hotshot marksman Irvine Kinneas obliged and looked over his shoulder. Upon discerning the incoming missile composition, there was a half-second of hesitation during which he turned his head to the side to verify his guess with Zell's own displacement, and then another half-second to call to his subordinate.

As if by miracle, the two picked up their feet and started making their way towards Quistis.

Trepe let out sigh and Selphie smiled when she heard Zell's war hoot.

"That," Quistis described for Selphie, "was a close – Oh, holy Hyne…"

Zell's party almost stopped completely in their tracks as well.

"What?" Selphie asked, sensing them stopping.

When she lifted her head, she saw that the front line of Shiva's ice shards had already knocked down a few of the dragons out of flight formation. The traffic overhead was so heavy that the disorientation of a few was enough to instigate numerous collisions throughout the pack. One of the out of control dragons had been knocked out by a neighbor and from a five-story altitude crash-landed on the poor SeeD just a step and a half behind Irvine. He went down with a stiff cry.

Quistis could not tell the extent of the injury from that far away, and, suddenly remembering that she had been running but had stopped, resumed the scuttle towards the unspoken rendezvous point. Zell's contingent was slower in responding, but had begun moving as well.

Honey, what is he doing? Shiva asked Quistis curiously, moving to various spots around Quistis' head for a better view.

Irvine had sensed the impact directly behind him and looked back. He stopped when he realized his friend was not where he should have been.

He's going back? Shiva inquired critically. In a situation like this? Why?

Quistis shook her head but continued running.

To give him a grenade, right? Shiva guessed, quoting, "To make maximal use of an already crippled and irrecoverable fighter to finish off any of pursuers," right?

Quistis' facial expression tightened. She had indeed written that line in her esteemed Trepe's Handbook of Military Tactics, and Shiva had in her spare time read every word of it.

Much more carefully than most of my own students, Quistis was sad to say.

And he remembered to do that at a time like this? Shiva voiced in wonder.

The immortal was clearly impressed at what seemed like a de facto testament of and ovation for her mistress' teaching skills.

You must be really proud of your students, she complimented sprightly.

Quistis did not reply. She was too focused on Irvine's actions as he knelt down by where the two-ton dragon had fallen.

Irvine was in a state of shock. He was sure from experience with combat wounds from the field that the half-lifeless individual before his eyes was in shock as well.

"Great Gilgamesh, no!" he muttered, hardly believing what he was seeing. The lower half of the SeeD was lodged under the still beast. The bones were no doubt crushed and the bone marrow leaking out into his system. Mass internal and external bleeding as well as damaged vital organs could be expected.

Though he knew it was futile, Irvine put his shoulder against the belly of the dragon and braced his foot against the dirt, but try as he might, he could not get the weight to budge an inch. He tried again and again, each time exerting more force, but always found that it was himself and not the dragon that was sliding away.

"Sir," the SeeD said weakly, with mouthfuls of blood oozing out of the corner of his mouth, "You need to get going. They'll be here soon."

"Just sit tight," the sharpshooter instructed. "I'm going to get you out of here."

"You don't have any time left," the other said simply. "And neither do I apparently."

"I order you not to talk that way!" Irvine snapped, finding his voice hoarse and choked up.

"Mercenary Ethics 101," the boy reminded him with a contrived laugh. "Remember?"

Irvine put his entire weight behind the next heave, but the result was the same. The first sprinkle of half-ton ice shells had begun to fall all around them from the sky.

"Sir, the only reason you should be back here is to give me a grenade," the pinned SeeD spoke with labored breathing. "It's in both the Trepe combat operations manual and the course reading-packet they assign every year on the moral code of SeeDs."

Irvine grabbed his student sternly by the collar again and leaned down to voice unmistakably in his ear, "Damn it, you're not in the classroom anymore! This is the real world and I'm your book now! They don't teach you this in the certified manuals either, but by Odin, here's how the moral code in this world really works! No one abandons anyone, and I'm NOT about to leave anyone I can still help out on the field to die alone, do you hear me? Do you?"

But one look into the glossed over, sunken eyes of the addressee told him that it was a lost cause. Over his back, Irvine could hear the voices of Quistis and Zell calling for him to run.

"Mercenary Ethics 101," the young archer repeated thoughtfully. "You never did call on me in there, sir…but there was so much…so much that I wanted to ask you about."

Finding strength from somewhere, the youth pushed Irvine away and then thrust the pointed tip of his bow into his throat, removing any reason for Irvine to continue lingering there.

Falling onto his back, Irvine only managed to sit up before his student's body went completely limp. It was just as if Stella had been there.

After that, Irvine tried to climb to his feet, but they were wobbling so badly that he fell forward onto his knees. His vision was flickering.

"Irvine!" came a shout from close behind him. "Look out!"

He looked up to see the razor tip of an ice pick zooming towards him. More instinctively than rationally he lifted his hands up to block it. The world was spinning so quickly that he did not know which way was up.

A pair of gloved hands reached in from behind and pulled him up. He found himself tumbling without meaning to and at some point his face was thrown straight into the ground. The blood rushed to his head and he blacked out.

"Zell!" Quistis called out as she weathered the phalanx of advancing dragons with ear-splitting cracks and lashes from her whip. "Bless you!"

It was not the most majestic of somersault-roll-and-tumble sequences, but for Zell to have gone in after Irvine, gotten there in record time, and somehow steered both his and Irvine's body clear of the danger from all directions was more than she had hoped for.

"No good, Quistis," Zell replied, wincing as he dragged Irvine's unconscious body over to the group. "I think I twisted my wrist."

The SeeD with the spear switched places with Quistis in fending off their attackers so that she could take a look at Irvine. Selphie was already by his side, inspecting the bump on his right temple. Her cellular phone was ringing again but she didn't seem to hear it at all.

"Why didn't you just take a hammer to his head, Zell?" Selphie protested in tears and made an effort to hit him with her bloodied right hand.

Zell, nursing his injured hand, didn't even make an effort to dodge the blow.

"She's not actually mad at you Zell," Quistis quickly stepped in and apologized for her. "Please don't be offended."

In a rare case of complete sympathy, Zell silently nodded and then looked away.

The spear-wielding junior officer was having problems and so the SeeD with daggers joined in the fight.

Despite Shiva's ice raid, the enemy was still some twenty strong and having shaken off the attack, converged upon the seven SeeDs with renewed fury.

"What do you want me to do, Quis?" Zell asked.

The phone was still ringing.

"I guess if I told you to take these two junior SeeDs and high tail to the garage while I hold the horde back, you'd refuse?" Quistis asked rhetorically. It's not just his wrist. Now that I'm looking at him, his leg and shoulder are pretty cut up as well. He won't be able to put up much resistance here if we make it our last stand.

Zell nodded. "Yeah; we either go together, or we don't go at all."

Even as he said it, though, he realized that it was next to impossible with the injuries sustained between them to fend off the opposition for more than another few minutes, much less maneuver back across the field to the garage exit.

The ringing of the cell was getting on their nerves.

"Maybe we could call for back-up," Zell suggested half-heartedly. Not that we have any. The only suicidal SeeD we had in our roster we just spent three minutes ago. Fat chance there's someone else courageously foolish like him out there just watching us and willing to stick his neck out for us.

Quistis wanted to laugh, but she was fighting back the tears that she felt would pour out any second now. In Squall's absence, she had failed them as a leader. Maybe the only thing she was fit for was nagging and cleaning up after them.

So what are you going to do now, Quistis? the Headmistress asked herself. How do you save them when–

She caught the vague shape of a humanoid dart out of the main corridor from the Garden. Now that the dragons had all gathered tightly over her weakened group, the doorway was clear.

Oh, Shiva, Quistis didn't dare to hope, is that who I think it is?

In seconds, the runner had traversed the distance and stood now, unnoticed, at the almost tangible perimeter of the aerial dome around the seven which the dragons had made their flight space.

The stranger's familiar voice called out to her, causing even Zell to look up and try to make out the face behind the wall of fangs and wings, "It looks like they have a superior position, seeing as how you're all grounded and they're all airborne."

Hearing his voice, a few of the dragons responded immediately, lurching back and eyeing their new prey with mouths gaping open and bared fangs.

"I'd be interested in any suggestions you might have about this matter," Quistis called back politely, "So long as you divulge it in an extremely timely manner."

"Well, you'll never beat them on the ground," the man pretended to chide her, "But if you take to the air…"

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Jeremy's Scribbles:

I would appreciate your reviews for this chapter so I can see what you are thinking or feeling, so as better to go back and make corrections for other readers if I see that everyone is stumbling between the same two chapters. Also, if you catch any spelling or grammar mistakes, would you please notify me via email so that I may correct them as soon as possible? Thanks in advance.