"I used to be a Turk"

Ch.1 I Used to be a Turk- A little more detail in Vincent's past that stems from the story "Off Duty"

"I used to be a Turk," said Vincent simply, breaking the silence.

Vincent remembered how his breath was taken away when he saw the familiar uniform he came to know so well. It became like a second skin, something he saw in the mirror for more then ten years, everyday. It was a black suit, white shirt with a red tie. The tie clip was set halfway down the tie, gold with the Japanese symbol for elite. The last time he saw one was when he burned his. But now he was staring at two of them, being worn by two men sitting across from him at a bar at the Turtle Inn.

He had joined the group recently, only sticking around and putting up with their annoyances so he could meet Hojo. But this was a new incentive for him to stick around. And one was needed because he was growing increasingly tired of Cloud's search for this girl who stole all their materia. How careless of him. He also decided to sit down because he saw how much fun Cid was having, and he had to admit the old drunk was growing on him.

Vincent couldn't remember what made him blurt that out after asking if they were Turks. Probably his pride, mixed with the boredom he was feeling that night looking for that girl all night. Maybe he just wanted to find out if the Turks were the same as it was when he was in, either way he said it and it didn't feel awkward to him at all, unlike most of his conversations he had lately. In fact, a lot of things have been awkward since after that job on the farm hasn't it…but before he could finish that thought it was pierced by Cid yelling at Cloud.

"Yeah that's right Cloud! Barret got my back, right dawg! That's right only big dogs allowed in dis house anywaz biatch," said Cid as he tried to remember, through his drunken haze, the ghetto trash talking crash courses Barret taught him when they were bored.

"Man shut up white boy, you know you are too drunk to talk any mess," said Barret.

"Whatever G, I been knowin I be da man, so shut yo grill bizatch!"

"What you say!" said Barret.

"Nothing man, what you talking about Barret. I'm just drunk remember, hey Cloud where you going?"

"No shit, you used to be a Turk, really! When, I don't remember seeing you during training?" asked Reno ignoring Cid and the others and focused, with Rude, on what Vincent just said.

"I'm fucking leaving your ass, I'm gonna look for Yuffie," said Cloud.

"I was one thirty years ago, when it was first formed," said Vincent.

"Fine go, I don't care, hey Barret wanna drink, it's on Cloud," said Cid.

"Thirty years ago, what are you talking about?" asked Reno intrigued.

"Yes thirty years ago, it's a long story…"

"Yeah a looooooooong story; like almost too fucking long. Like really fucking looong, like as long as my peni…" said Cid.

"Cid!" exclaimed Tifa.

"Oh, I mean to say as long as… man forget it, hey Barret what you want?"

Reno and Rude were memorized by what they stumbled on. A real life Turk, think about the war stories! They have never met anyone else that was in the Turks, except the people that trained them. They weren't all about telling stories though, and they were all gone now.

Vincent stared at the Scotch and Soda that was reflecting the light from the overhead lamp that was dangling above them. Thirty years…has it been that long. It was only recently that he joined the land of the conscious again. It would seem that fate brought him and Cloud and company together. I haven't thought about the past since that moment, it seems like a lifetime ago. It was even before Cid joined the group. In reality it was only a couple of months ago, but so much had happened since then, and there was still that ache in his heart that drew the days to an incessant end. Lucrecia…

"So tell us, uhh Vincent right? Tell us what happened?" asked the man he just met, but probably shared more in common with then anyone in the room. Reno was astounded to have met a real life Turk, and the booze that was already taking another lap in his system made him not even think that he was a Turk thirty years ago seem odd. He just wanted to know about his story. He blocked out Cid's raving conversation with Barret as he turned, with his partner Rude, toward the mysterious man.

Vincent looked down as he gripped his drink with his good arm, always seeing the metallic glare of the cold alloy staring at him from his other arm. Vincent stared into the glass deeply. He forgot all about Yuffie and the missing materia, which didn't concern him that much to begin with, and Cid and Barret's laughing. All he could remember was that shine of the gun…it had the same shine as my metal arm…

Vincent took a long breath. He looked up from his glass and stared at the pair of eyes staring back at him. He took the glass to his lips and let the liquid burn down his throat. He cleared his throat and slowly said, "I was seventeen when I joined. I had just moved from the farm I grew up and moved into the outskirts of Old Midgar, which I am told is where Midgar is now. Back then it was just a cluster of cities. Shinra had just been started by Mr. Shinra. I needed a job so I…" Vincent continued and Reno and Rude hung on every word he said without interrupting him

A vibrant Vincent came storming out of bed from his single room in the orphanage. It was a little past 9 AM, and breakfast would be ready in half an hour, or when he finished cooking it. Damn I overslept again! He quickly got dressed in some overalls and work boots. He looked into the mirror as he got dressed. A young man, with short spiked hair, a clean shaven face, and handsome features stared back at him. He quickly got ready and headed for the kitchen. He had been there most of his life, never really knowing what was outside the land that the orphanage had owned, but today…he was to be sent out into the world.

"I'm sorry Vincent, we just can't afford to keep you here, you are a great worker, but you'll do more good going out into the world then staying here. The children will be fine without you, just go out there and meet your destiny," the old man had said to him just yesterday night when he was finished with his chores. He felt the same way; he had an insatiable appetite that needed to be fed, and an ambition that just couldn't be fulfilled here. He loved it here, but at the same time he knew he couldn't stay here.

He opened the cabinet and took out the eggs. At least I'll cook one last meal before I go. He broke the news to the children and it would seem their hearts too. He was the oldest orphan there, and the older brother to most of them. He had to go though, he needed to go. Breakfast was finished and he called out, "Breakfast, come get it!" A legion of charging kids came rushing down.

"Hey what's for breakfast!"

"Oww man, eggs again?"

"You really going Vinny?"

"Man do I gotta get up?"

"Alright guys, be quiet and sit down, I want a good peaceful meal before I leave," said Vincent in his brotherly authoritative voice.

"Okay Vinny," they said in unison. In total there were 22 children of varying ages. The next oldest was fifteen. Most the older boys were sent out into the field early in the morning to work, while the children had a late breakfast. There were seven boys between the ages of six to twelve. The older children ate later on, and the old man usually cooked, but since it was Vincent's last day he was cooking.

"What are we gonna do without you?" asked the youngest of the bunch. He was six years old and Vincent's favorite. His name was Donny, a war orphan just like Vincent. Vincent was like a father to Donny, and it was him that almost made him stay.

"You are going to have to wake up by yourself," said Vincent in a teasing fashion.

"But Vinny…"

"Listen Donny, everyone has to leave sometime, my time is now, and we talked about this yesterday."

"But…"

"But nothing Donny, it's not like I'm going to be far away, I'll visit as much as I can."

"Alright…"

"Now eat up, while it is still hot." The meal ended nicely enough with a food fight and tears from Donny and the rest when Vincent headed out the front door. Vincent was determined to not turn back though, he had to leave. The old man had given him a Chocobo, 500 Gil, and his best wishes. He headed west toward the new city they were building and where the company Shinra was being formed.