All the King's Men

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Characters: Elena, Rufus, Tseng, Reno, Rude
Rating: M

Disclaimer: Property of Squaresoft. No money is being made off this.

Summary: The world, post-meteor and geostigma, is rebuilding and so is ShinRa. Following its young President's ambition, the Turks pledge undying loyalty. With an unexpected revelation, the course of their lives changes in both small and profound ways.

Prelude

The WRO was the de facto peacekeepers of Gaia, but that didn't mean they were the sole military power. The world hadn't ended with meteor attack—that just destroyed Midgar and the old system the old way of doing things. What had happen had been simply change; a vacuum where once a mega-conglomerate once stood. Now, instead of one power, the world was divided. Countries were forming. Wutai, for example, had in the span of five years, started reimplementation and—practically from the ground up—rebuilt their armies and navies. Politics, diplomacy, all the stuff pre-ShinRa era history recalled.

Of course, everyone wanted for world peace, being so close to the brink of oblivion. But, truth was (and ShinRa knew this), so long as humanity existed, they'd find a way to start up conflict, to find differences, beget war and strife, then come again to exterminating themselves. WRO, for now, was the thin medium that kept everything in check…

And as the world was rebuilding, so did ShinRa. The process was slow and painstaking, but the corporation—what was left of it—always believed in the will to power.

Nibelhelm

The ShinRa-owned quarters were left in seclusion. No one in that town wanted anything to do with it. There was just too much stigma in little villages like this. So ShinRa's secrets were kept well preserved in the now-defunct Mako factories.

The sound of a rotor blade slicing to air. Chur-chur-chur. Rapid fire as the helicopter arrived above the factory in the mountains.

Inside, three members of the Turk were getting ready to deploy. The mission, as most of their missions were, was classified as covert. Descend, secure, and locate the files—those research files tucked in the bowels of the factory.

ShinRa, being so mistrusted, couldn't just walk in through the front door of the town anymore—even if this was their property.

"The terrain won't allow me to land."

"Then stay above here, yo." Reno shouted back to the pilot, who gave a thumbs-up in response.

Elena secured the harness to herself as she watched the other two get ready themselves.

Rappelling down mountains, cornering enemies under gunfire, jumping out of helicopters strapped to one lifeline—yes, this was all terribly exhilarating. And damn well why she chose this profession in the first place. Still, it didn't stop the butterflies or the nagging doubt that this time—maybe this time…the rope would snap or the bullet would find its mark or, or, or…

"HERE WE GO!" Reno threw up his hands, grabbed a hold of Elena and chucked her out helicopter.

"WAHHH!!!"

He followed after her. Then Rude. All three landing safely in the soft snow.

Check yourself! All limbs still intact? Yes, yes, yes.

Elena let out a sigh of relief, and recovered her wits about her. Then she reeled around and grabbed Reno by the tie of his suit, "What the hell?" she demanded--her face flushed with fear and anger, "I told you before! I'll jump when I'm damn well ready."

"Which would've been never. Am I right or what, Rude?"

"Huh? Oh, right."

"See?"

Elena shook her head. These guys were hopeless. "Whatever. Let's just hurry."

They were soon at the front entrance and Reno was muttering to himself, "Please still work." He was referring to the code machine that sealed the door shut. No retinal scanners--this factory was an artifact.

Reno dialed in the code given through the earpiece—information relayed by headquarters. There was a beep, then click, click, HISSSSS….

As cool smoke and plumes followed the mechanical door opening.

Elena, to the radio, "Entrance secured. We're mobilizing to the interior. Keep a check on us."

Hiss. Radio back, "Roger that."

Once inside, the Turks were on alert. Flashlight and guns welded out and in front of them as they consciously walked through the dark corridors of steel girders and pipes. Remnants. There could still be monsters here.

The three formed a triangle, backs protected as they headed towards their destination. Another room, sealed. The most important room of all.

Bleep, bleep, bleep. Reno fumbled with the number pad. "Damn."

"Come on, Reno," Elena shivered, "This place is giving me the creeps."

"What? Is the little baby scared?" Reno stuck out his tongue. "Calm down. I almost got it…There…"

"Whoa…it's so…it's so…" Elena took it in--the small cramped workstation of madmen, now abandoned and left in derelict. Mice wouldn't even camp out here.

"Dusty." Rude said as he walked in first.

Elena bleep her radio again, "We've located the mother-load. Should we discard Mako-only related files?"

Rude and Reno were already digging. Pulling out drawers. Emptying boxes. Getting their hands dirty as they started flipping through the cabinets. Thousands of yellow folders that were—thank the Gods—categorized.

"No," the static'ed voice on the radio answered back. "Just the weapon research. If it's Mako-related weapon research, then fine, make an exception. The rest just ignore."

"Yes, sir." She turned to her companions, "You heard the man."

Reno looked up, flashlight in his mouth and made a muffled sound.

"What?"

He shook his head and took out the flashlight. "I said, we're not deaf, yo. Now get your ass in here and start digging."

It turns out; there was only five boxes worth of files they were looking for. Lucky for them since it didn't take much time to unload outside. They strapped harness onto the containers and sealed them for delivery before making a signal to the 'copter to, "Haul em' up." As Reno would say.

And they were standing below watching with a sense of accomplishment as the last of the boxes was being lifted up. There was a mini-celebration. A congratulations of sorts. Reno, the senior of the group, patted the junior of the group on the back. "Nice work, Elena." He looked to the other man—the one with little words, and added, "You too, Rude. We'll go back, and get cake."

Elena rolled her eyes, "We're not five, you know?"

Rude. Stoic Rude. Even he had to smile a little; today was an easy mission. Still, there was reason to be happy.

Reno laughed, and—for some reason (maybe it was mechanical?)—he kept up patting Elena lightly on the back. That when she noticed it, the first upchurning in her stomach.

Rude caught it first: the way Elena's body slightly hitched forward and she rubbed her hand on her chest as if upset by something.

His eyebrow raised in concern.

On the other hand, Reno, smiling, was busy watching and waving at the helicopter, pulling in its load that he didn't notice: the little hiccupping sound of the coworker besides him until…

"Wahh…" And out it went. Elena's entire breakfast content all over Reno's—

"My dragon skin BOOTS!!! Oh god. Elena?!?"

Scrambled eggs mixed bile and spit coated the sheen of those nice, green leather hide. Reno fussed over them while a pale-faced Elena muttered, "Sorry. I don't know…"

And she was cut off by another sudden bout of regurgitation. Again, same direction.

"Aw, man! Ugh…" Reno looked about ready to weep over his very, very expensive boots.

"Mako poisoning?" Rude asked surprised as he bent over to check Elena. The poor woman just put her hands up to indicate that she was fine. Shook her head and grabbed the harness, before buckling herself in.