A/N: Nope, I'm not dead. I'm still breathing as of this moment. This started as an honest-to-goddess dream that had me going "What the f**k?" when I woke up. And of course, my imagination snatched it up and ran away with it... fast. I'm using the Zack before he received that cross-like scar on his left jaw. There's just something about those feathery bangs that so compliments his face. And the uniforms colors are from the Crisis Core Era.
Story Summary: This is In-Game FF7/AC Movie AU! (Yep, going for a two-fer this time. Call me ambitious…) Three young women, trying to escape the violence of their families, run away into the slums of Midgar. But a chance meeting with three SOLDIERs changes everything, and they find themselves at odds with ShinRa as they attempt to rebuild their lives. Will it be with the men they are starting to see as human and not the mindless puppets of that evil corporation?
Chapter Summary: Enter the SOLDIERs, faced with a situation the likes of which they have never dealt with before. ShinRa intends to murder hundreds of innocent people for the mere possibility of killing a few of the terrorist group AVALANCHE by dropping the Sector 7 plate onto the slums. And in the middle of all this chaos, three women finally reach their limit and flee from their abusive homes. Fate has them meeting in this time of upheaval. What will the outcome be?
Escape
By Ivy Elise Tanté
Chapter 1: Everything begins with the SOLDIERs...
Deep in the wee hours of the morning, his cell phone rang - loudly. The sound echoed off the concrete walls of the barracks, waking nearly everyone in the room as a frantic hand shot out from under a pile of blankets and fumbled across the small shelf build into the wall. Several items crashed from its surface as grunts and irritated curses drifted upon the head of the man who finally got hold of the phone and stopped that aggravating Chocobo Song from the Gold Saucer Racetrack.
"Fair," he croaked into the unit a second time when he realized he was holding it upside down. The only thing that could be seen of him was a few disarrayed spikes of sooty black hair and the tip of an ear.
"It's Reeve Tuesti, Zack. I'm sorry for this, but I need you, Cloud Strife and Kunsel Moreno in my office immediately," said the Head of Urban Development for the ShinRa Electric Power Company. His voice, usually smooth and rich in tone, sounded tense and harsh, and there was an angry conversation going on behind him echoing through the connection.
It took a moment for the order to sink in properly, as Zack Fair was momentarily distracted trying to identify all the people buzzing in the background. "Reeve, what's going on?! It's only two in the morning." There were several in the barracks that grumbled agreement to this observation, and Zack hissed at them to hold it down as he tried to work his way free of the clinging covers.
"If we don't find at least one member of AVALANCHE within the next forty-eight hours -and turn them over to Heidegger for trial and a public execution- ShinRa will drop the Sector 7 plate onto the slums to eliminate the threat from the terrorist group they believe is based there," came the grim answer.
Shocked totally awake, Zack sat bolt upright and stared at the phone for just a minute as if waiting for the punch line to the joke. When none came, he brought it back to his ear and promised, "Turn your head and I'll be standing there," as he catapulted out of his bunk.
His bare feet hitting the icy concrete floor had him hopping around, black boxer shorts flapping as he yanked open his disorganized foot locker. One look inside assured him that hunting up all the various pieces of his uniform would take too long, so he grabbed just enough clothing that he wouldn't be arrested for indecent exposure and slammed the lid to the trunk. The two minutes require to stuff himself into pants, shirt and boots seemed to take an eternity.
Snatching up his Buster Sword, he turned to his left to rouse his fellow SOLDIERs that had somehow managed to sleep through the entire incident, ringing of the phone included. He woke Kunsel and Cloud by kicking their bunks and snapping out orders just like their former drill sergeant during initial infantry training, who had so instill his brand of discipline in all of them that they were dressed and standing at attention despite being mostly still asleep.
Shoving weapons into their hands, Zack growled out "Follow me!" and took off at a dead run towards the elevator that gave direct access into the ShinRa tower.
The pair was very confused but didn't press Zack for answers as they staggered after him.
Minutes later, they crashed into Reeve's office to find nearly a dozen SOLDIERs in attendance, including the upper echelon of their elite division as well as Lazard Deusericus, the Director of SOLDIER. All conversation ground to a halt when Zack busted into the room and took a quick head count before facing Lazard.
Zack's first words were snapped out in a voice gone breathless from the run, "Why aren't the Turks in here with us? They have a better network of spies and informants than we do." Cloud and Kunsel slipped in behind him and found spaces to stand nearby. Neither interrupted even though they wanted desperately to know what was going on.
Lazard nodded to acknowledge their presence and pushed his glasses back into place on his nose. He indicated with a wave of his hand that Reeve was the one to address the problem facing them.
"To answer your question, Zack, the Turks are the ones with the orders to bring down the plate, signed by none other than Tseng Shion himself. Cissnei was so rattled by it she broke the directive for silent running and called to ask if I could authenticate the message, which I did. It came directly from the Turk Headquarters, from Tseng's office, sent from his computer and affixed with his personal codes. Now will everyone please shut up, sit down, and let's get this planned out. If worse comes to worst, we may have to take out the main generator here at the ShinRa tower to at least delay them while that area of the slums is evacuated," Reeve started, only to be interrupted by Zack.
"I would like to volunteer myself, Cloud and Kunsel to deal with that if it becomes necessary, Reeve. All three of us have a few scores to settle with ShinRa in general and Hojo in particular. We'll see the job is done," Zack promised.
There was a moment of silence as everyone in the room contemplated the request. Lazard glanced at first Reeve then at General Sephiroth, both of whom nodded in agreement. "Strife in particular would be a good choice, since he has kept in contact with many of his former comrades within the ranks of infantrymen. Although not an eloquent speaker, his earnest demeanor could convince the troopers to stand down without forcing the issue," was Sephiroth's conclusion.
Quietly Lazard added, "As long as you understand the ramifications of such actions. There will be considerable pursuit for only three SOLDIERs to handle, as the main power coupling for the generator is heavily guarded at all times. ShinRa is very aware of the weakness it represents."
Though he didn't yet know the full story behind this clandestine meeting, Cloud leaned forward and said, "We will prevail."
Since he knew of the circumstances behind Cloud's unauthorized enhancement, Lazard had little reason to doubt his sincerity. "Very well. Now, let's get started." And he motioned to the extra chairs scattered about Reeve's office in invitation for everyone to sit down and try to save some lives from ShinRa's callous disregard for any innocents that happened to be caught in the cross hairs…
And introducing the first of the women...
"Damn stupid little bitch," growled the man, backhanding his daughter sitting at the kitchen table with him. The blow knocked Tifa Lockhart out of her chair and onto the floor, narrowly missing the edge of the counter as she went down. "I told you not to touch a thing in this damn house without my permission!" Benjamin added a hard kick to her side as she lay curled in pain on the freshly scrubbed tiles. "Now get out of my sight before I beat some proper respect into you!"
Tifa climbed to her feet as quickly as possible, arms wrapped around her middle from the agony in her ribs. As fast as she moved, her father still smashed a fist into the middle of her back as she ran out the door of the kitchen and into the living room. The force knocked her into the couch, and she whimpered as the impact with the wooden frame bruised her further. At the sound of his footsteps approaching, she catapulted herself up to flee down the short hallway and into her room, leaving a faint trail of blood drops on the floor and a gory fingerprint smear on the doorjamb in her wake.
What crime had earned her such violent punishment? Well, she had dared to clean the house while her father was gone for the day. It had taken hours to scrub the filth from floors and walls, countless hauls to dispose of trash. Tifa had naively believed it would please her father to come home to a clean dwelling after his fruitless search for a job. And her reward for the toil was bruises, cuts, scratches and scrapes, with possibly broken or cracked ribs.
"No more," she swore to herself as she stared into the mirror and watched the blood drip from her nose and split lip. It was past time she started acknowledging her abilities and utilize them to protect herself; although her father was a former ShinRa infantryman, she could easily counter all the slaps and punches if she really wanted. Tifa was a martial artist, trained by none other than Master Zangan himself. Only her love for what her father had once been kept her from retaliating against the abuse.
Now filled with resolve, she cleaned her face and bandaged her cuts, rubbed witch hazel on the bruises and reluctantly taped her ribs because every breath or move hurt. Then she started packing, carefully tucking anything she considered vital into the heavy-duty backpack she had once borrowed from her father in better times, before her mother's death and the drugs that helped him deal with the grief changed him so drastically.
The slam of the front door jarred her nerves badly enough that she dropped the pack and had to reorganize it all over again. Walking to the doorway, Tifa stood listening for a long moment before deciding it was safe - there was no sound of the angry muttering her father tended to make whenever she did something to infuriate him. Leaning her head wearily against the door, she tried to work up her courage before taking the last step towards freedom.
Tifa knew her father searched her room regularly and thoroughly to be sure she wasn't holding out any of her tip money on him, particularly when his drugs were running low. So she had hidden her most important items in the one place he wouldn't think to look - in his own space. Knowing she had to take the risk, Tifa tiptoed out of her room and crossed the hall, then darted into her father's bedroom. Diving under the bed, she used her fingernails to pry up the loose floorboard and stabbed her hand into the space below.
A minute later she was out again, one hand filled with the gil she had managed to save from her part-time waitress job, the other clutched around a materia her father would have killed to own. A mastered All materia - she had found it secreted in a hidden compartment in her room when they moved into the ratty house months earlier. The soft blue light from the globe shimmered through her fingers as she stuffed it anxiously into the very bottom of the backpack.
Tifa's final stop was the kitchen, where she packed all the non-perishable food she could fit and topped it off with whatever medical supplies came to hand. At last, she pulled on the long black gloves her mother had made her shortly before her death, strapped on the elbow guards and her red fingerless fighting gloves. Then she was out the back door, fleeing into the night that was surely safer than the abusive home she left behind.
As frightened as she was of what might lurk in the slums of Midgar, she preferred it to the violence of her father…
And even as one flees…
No more, Aerith Gainsborough swore mentally, snatching at one of the wooden posts that had been kicked loose from the stair railing months ago during one of his rampages. It broke free just as she twirled around to face her opponent. Before her stepfather could put his hands on her again, she brought it down with all her strength on his head, finally pushed to the point she didn't care if the blow killed him or not. Unfortunately, the dry-rotted wood splintered into fragments on his hard skull. Fortunately for Duncan, it did knock him unconscious.
Aerith stood poised over him, panting from her efforts to break his grip while trying to come to terms with what she had just done. It was the first time she had consciously fought back against him instead of attempting to evade his clutching hands and escape to her room with its triple set of locks. The desire to beat him bloody as he lay helpless rose to the surface momentarily as she glared down at him. However, even the thought of causing such pain made her nauseous. It would be far better to flee this awful place, and now she had the opportunity to run.
But she knew she had better get a move on it, because he wouldn't be out for long.
Tossing away the unless piece of shattered wood, Aerith ran straight to the storage closet off the kitchen, grabbed one of the packs conveniently shoved into a back corner, and threw every bit of supplies into it she could cram. When it was full, she snatched up another and bolted upstairs, careening into her room and feverishly packing clothes, toiletries, shoes; anything she might need. One last dash into her parent's room netted their savings, several pieces of fairly good jewelry and two materia she never knew were there - Poison and Lightning.
Forcing herself to stop long enough to think the situation through, Aerith entered the attached bath and searched the medicine cabinet, finding a well-stocked first aid kit as well as a collection of bandages, swabs and antiseptic. Funny, her mother never offered Aerith any of these supplies whenever Duncan banged and bruised her up. It reminded her to treat her wounds from the latest wrestling match with her nemesis; both wrists were already streaked yellow and purple from his ham hands, as well as her left hip while she had struggled to break his hold on her. It wasn't the first time he had tried to rape her, but by Shiva, it would be the last.
She patched herself up as best she could then bolted back downstairs. Luckily her adversary was still unconscious. If he came around before she was finished gathering her things, she had a frying pan with his name on it this time, no matter how much the violence might turn her stomach.
For just a brief moment as she stared down at the unconscious man, she thought about writing her mother a note telling her why she was leaving. But her heart hardened as she remembered all the times her mother had turned away from her suffering. Misha Gainsborough knew what her daughter dealt with on an almost daily basis, and did nothing about it because if he didn't have Aerith to beat or attack anymore, he would probably turn the violence on her.
I'll think of it as poetic justice, her daughter reasoned.
Zipping up her bags, she fashioned straps onto the heaviest and improvised it into a backpack so the load would be easier to carry. Taking one last look around at the home she knew she wouldn't miss, Aerith grabbed the ancient staff that had belonged to her ever-so-great-grandfather from its place of honor -and she used the term very sarcastically- behind the pantry door. Since she now had materia to add into its slots, it would make a formidable weapon even in her unskilled hands. In fact, those two materia had probably come from this staff originally, she realized.
Peering out cautiously in case a neighbor was snooping around -for her stepfather had convinced those living around them that she was wild and undisciplined so they would report anything they saw her doing to him- she disappeared out the back door into the dark of the night. She vowed never to return to this unhappy house that had fueled her nightmares for years.
No matter what it took to survive…
And later, once true night had fallen…
Watching the clock was hard on the nerves. But Starr Sapphire knew if she didn't time her escape just right, there wouldn't be another opportunity to win free of the hell she lived before it became unimaginably worse.
Orphaned at birth, Starr Sapphire had been passed from one indifferent pair of hands to another all her life. No one particularly cared if she was properly fed or cared for as long as she stayed quiet and caused no problems. The years had been long and friendless up until now.
But her foster parents had finally made a mistake. By acting totally cowed and terrified, they thought her spirit broken and began relaxing their guard to the point they weren't as vigilant about keeping her locked up. Slipping out of her room the other night, she had eavesdropped on their conversation and heard them talking about their plans. Despite the abuse and neglect, Starr had turned a beautiful and shapely nineteen slightly over a week ago. There was mention of the Honey Bee Inn, and Don Corneo in Sector 6. As she was no innocent, she understood what a brothel was and how a woman was expected to survive there. Not in this lifetime, she had sworn as she stood there in the dark, shaking with rage.
Therefore, for the past week she had squirreled away whatever supplies she could lay hands on. Those provisions were now hidden underneath her bed, and she felt no shame about stealing them from her so-called guardians. The route out of the neighborhood was mapped in exacting detail, with every possible contingency accounted for. Now, if her feckless wardens would just leave for their night out as planned, she could wave goodbye to the greedy cockroaches and depart this hell.
Right on time a fist pounded on her door, and a cruel and mocking voice sounded. "Leave that room, little slut, and you'll not eat for a week, you hear me?" A sharp rap vibrated the door in its frame. "And I've got people watching the place, so don't get no ideas, either." Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and the front door slammed a moment later.
Starr stood still and quiet for a half hour to make sure they were really gone, then picked the lock on her door and slid out. Avoiding the window at the end of the hall, she went to work on the lock for their office. One quick foray inside gained her more riches than she expected; enough gil to last a month on the run, a first aid kit found largely by accident, and three materia those idiots didn't have the intelligence to even use; Restore, Ice and even a summon - Choco/Mog. They were hidden away in a small black box with a piece of old, yellowed paper covered with symbols Starr couldn't understand. Shrugging, she stuffed the box into a backpack and darted for the kitchen.
The darkness made it more difficult to pick the lock and her hands were starting to get sweaty in anxiety, but she knew she couldn't risk cutting on the overhead lights. Forcing herself to calm down, she carefully finessed the improvised tools until a satisfying click sounded. Then she slipped out the back door and sprinted into the darkness. As soon as she was cloaked in the shadows, she stopped and listened again. There was no sound, no outcry.
Knowing she now had enough gil to purchase a weapon of some sort was a relief. A shop nearby would sell such items to anyone regardless of age or gender. Unskilled or not, the weapon would make sure she could protect herself and her supplies. And if she could find something with slots, the materia would sure come in handy.
There might be danger concealed in the shadows of the slums, but for the first time in her life she was free to make her own decisions and she would never willingly allow another to have such control over her again. Her thoughts as she disappeared into the shadows were a challenge to all that prowled there; bring it on.
Deep in the heart of the ShinRa building...
SOLDIER had failed to produce the sacrificial lamb of an AVALANCHE member within the forty-eight hour deadline. Or rather, the group refused to turn over the two that had willingly given themselves up in the hopes of stopping the insanity when they somehow learned of the insidious plan. Reeve had confirmed the orders to destroy the pillar supporting the plate were to be carried out even if someone from the terrorist group was apprehended and executed.
They weren't about to sacrifice two lives for no reason, so Lazard let them go and called Fair to report that repeated attempts to contact the Turks for more information were thwarted because every single agent, by order of Tseng, was running silent. Cissnei might have broken that directive to confirm the authenticity of the orders, but there had been no word from her since Reeve's verification.
Disconnecting, Zack turned to look at the two men behind him and said quietly, "It's time." Knowing exactly what he was talking about, they both nodded.
After checking supplies, weapons and materia, Zack, Kunsel and Cloud headed out to give everyone time to evacuate as many as they could. All three cut off their cell phones as they approached the reactor; there were so many texts zipping between the members of their division that the vibrations from the units were too distracting - and noticeable.
Reaching the correct area was the easy part. There was no reason for anyone to question three SOLDIERs for being in this part of the tower; the elite warriors of ShinRa were often asked to inspect the infrastructure of the building, and the half-helmets they so despised worked wonders in hiding their identities. So they simply strolled inside and headed down into the core.
Once they arrived, Kunsel went right to work as he was by far the most skilled when it came to computers, while Zack and Cloud guarded the small catwalk leading to the main power coupling for the generator that ran nearly the entire ShinRa complex. Trying to keep the strain from showing, the two joked around, casually leaning against the railing as if they had not a care in the world, and were bored performing a duty foisted off on them by another member of SOLDIER.
But even though Kunsel deactivated the alarm system first, he must have missed something because all of a sudden infantrymen were coming out of the steel-paneled walls. There wasn't even time to grab for swords as bullets perforated the air around them. Zack's startled shout echoed through the cavernous space, allowing Kunsel time to crouch down so he would remain unseen as he worked.
Ducking amid the rapid gunfire, Cloud hurled an Ice attack that turned the closest troopers into popsicles even as Zack yanked the Buster Sword from the magnetic stud on his back, stepping forward to parry the attack of a captain bearing the SOLDIER sword Cloud had given him when his own Fusion Sword was forged. It was with a heavy heart that he kicked the man off the narrow bridge and into the troopers massed uncomfortably near their position.
In the respite as the infantrymen grabbed the captain and their frozen comrades and dragged them to safety, Cloud flexed his left arm and shook the numbness out of his fingers. He hadn't held back anything with the magical attack and the feedback had caught his left hand a bit. "You didn't hurt him badly with that kick, did you?" he asked quietly, speaking of the captain of the infantrymen.
"No, it was only enough to get him out of the way of your casting of Ice. Why do I feel like Han Solo attacking the Death Star?" Zack muttered crossly, casting Wall to protect them from the hail of flying bullets the troopers were using to cover the retreat of the medics. Not even their massive swords could counter all the ammunition being fired at them.
"He uses a blaster," Cloud shot back as he let loose with another Ice attack. "And I'm not standing in for Chewbacca!" Though he spoke lightly, there was no humor in either his tone or expression, and the too-blue glowing eyes were grim.
Behind them Kunsel worked feverishly to get past the remaining safeguards in the system. Frying the circuits would be far safer than simply blowing the column to Hades, as fewer lives would be risked if he could feed the virus Reeve had provided into the network. "Getting closer!" he assured them in a hurried tone.
Zack paused just long enough to confirm his suspicions as his sensitive hearing picked up fragments of a frantic radio transmission. "That's the call for reinforcements, Cloud! Tell Kunsel he's got exactly one minute then we're bailing." So saying, he stepped forward and hurled one of those Bolt3 attacks even other SOLDIERs had the sense to fear. Troopers screamed and jumped away in every direction, desperate to evade the incredibly powerful ark of electricity hot enough to melt some of the decking beneath their feet. Eye-searing mist from the evaporated metal suddenly made hitting the swiftly moving targets impossible and the captain yelled for a full retreat, unwilling to sacrifice his men under such hazardous conditions.
This was a massive relief to the two defending the catwalk. So far, the only injuries were the freeze-dried infantrymen that would be weak but okay once the spell wore off, and the kicked captain, who would be wearing Zack's boot print on his butt for a few days. Thumbing off the top of a potion, Zack swallowed the disgusting concoction and tossed the bottle into one of the many holes in the plating of the deck. "KUNSEL!" he shouted, motioning sharply for him to get a move on it.
"Keep your pants on, Han!" was the testy reply. "I've still got seventeen seconds left of that stingy minute you granted me." His fingers were a blur as he worked the manual keyboard jury-rigged into the console. "And down the rabbit hole we go," Kunsel muttered as he finally wormed his way into the system. Inserting a flash drive into the port, he hit a series of keystrokes that uploaded the virus designed to take out every network connected with the mainframe. Suddenly the lights all over the coupling started flashing wildly out of synch, and the acrid stench of charred plastic-coated wiring was added to the miasma in the air. "Mission complete. And for the record, Cloud looks more chocobo than Wookie." Running around the column, he grinned and added, "But I would make a dashing Luke Skywalker, if I do say so myself." The merriment in his voice did not reach his eyes as he checked both his companions for wounds and found them uninjured.
For now, at least.
A deep toned hum steadily decreasing in pitch warned of the system's imminent failure. "Kunsel, take the lead! I'll bring up the rear - move it, move it, move it!" Zack knew it was a race against time now. If they were fast enough, they could get out without having to face any more of the infantry. Killing men that had once been colleagues wasn't easy, and he was willing to go out of his way to avoid conflicts at this point. Thank the Goddess the captain had sounded the retreat.
Corridor lights were flickering from normal power to back-up as they raced down the levels, heading for the emergency exit that would take them out of the area quickly. Overhead the intercom blasted warnings of power and equipment failure until the audio system itself fell victim to the virus as well.
They were nearly to the stairs when that captain stepped out in front of them. The blade wielded against Zack earlier was now sheathed on his back and his hands were empty. "Stop," he said in an implacable tone, his handsome face set and determined.
"Bailey, this isn't the time," Cloud started as he removed his helmet, hoping he would listen since the infantryman had been a friend long before he became SOLDIER against his will.
"Just tell me why you're doing this," Bailey barked. "I pulled my men back instead of attacking, wanting the chance to talk when I realized who was on the catwalk. I would have done that sooner but you're wearing those confounded helmets and I didn't recognize you right off until the swords came out. I know you, Strife. You wouldn't do this without cause, so trust me with the reason."
Because he could see Bailey was sincere, Cloud answered truthfully, "ShinRa has ordered the Turks to drop the Sector 7 Plate onto the slums in the hopes of crushing the terrorist group now calling themselves AVALANCHE. By taking out the main coupling, we're trying to delay them long enough to evacuate the slums while others work to clear the upper Plate."
All of them could see the captain struggling to come to terms with such madness. The exotically slanted dark brown eyes were snapping in frustration as he considered the best ways to assist them. "The three of you alone can't hope to warn everyone in time and make it out yourselves," he finally said, his jaw clenched tightly in rage.
"We're going to do what we can and hope for the best," Zack replied as his right hand rose to encircle his sword hilt. "But we really need to get out of here now, and you're blocking the way. Either move or we'll have to act." Too many lives were at stake to continue stalling. ShinRa had plenty of engineers capable of bypassing the main conduit and restoring power; all the SOLDIERs could gain from this desperate gamble was time. And Zack could literally feel it slipping right through his fingers as they stood there arguing.
But Bailey took a deep breath and ordered, "Then give me a rendezvous point, dammit. My company isn't large, only four dozen, but that's a lot more feet to run around with the warning to get out."
"They might not make it out, either," Cloud told him as he strapped his helmet back on.
"That's their choice. But my oath is to protect and serve the people of this city, not fucking ShinRa. So get going. Where do we meet up?" Bailey was already halfway down the hall by that time, black curls fluttering wildly in his wake.
Zack had to shout after him, "We're starting just past Sector 6, so begin in Sector 8 and we'll meet in the middle!" Yanking open the door to the stairwell, he felt hope swelling inside him for the first time in days. Even within ShinRa, there was still decency to be found. Perhaps they would accomplish the mission after all...
In the Sector 5 slums of Midgar...
Tightening her grip on the sword she now carried, Starr peered into the shadows and waited for whoever was following her to show themselves. It had been two harrowing days since she ran away from her foster home and exhaustion threatened with every step. There was almost no way to sleep safely here in the ruins beneath the plates, and the boundless energy that normally sustained her was flagging. It can't end this way, she pleaded to whatever gods might be listening.
Then a shadow reluctantly detached itself from the darker mass of piled debris and stepped into the center of the path. To Starr's surprise it was a young woman somewhere around her own age, with long dark brown hair and spooked eyes. She had a backpack slung over one shoulder and another gripped in her fist, both of which bugled. Something in the red-wine eyes, bruised cheek and split lip caused Starr to lean forward slightly and gesture towards her.
"There's a junction in these pipes about ten feet back. We can both fit in," Starr offered hesitantly. She wasn't sure why she instinctively wanted this woman's company, but something about her manner and injuries struck a chord within. This stranger understood abuse; it showed in the wariness of her posture and expression that her wounds weren't the first she had ever received.
The woman started, not having seen Starr where she crouched inside a large ventilation pipe. "I'm not alone," she warned, motioning behind her.
Another female stepped out, cloaked in that same chary caution as the first and just as injured; both wrists were encircled with deep, purpling bruises and she had a slight limp on the left side. The pink dress she wore looked almost garish in the dismal lighting, but the green eyes looked directly into Starr's without hesitation.
"My name is Tifa Lockhart, and this is Aerith Gainsborough. We met up last night and stood watch for each other during the night. We'll do the same for you, if you would like. Do you think we can all fit if we squeeze in?" Her eyes were hopeful.
Something inside warned against trusting them, but Starr had already spent a lifetime without any friends because of her so-called guardians. These two obviously had necessary supplies so wouldn't be after hers, and both possessed weapons: Aerith a staff and Tifa her fighting gloves, both of which carried the unmistakable glow of materia. So she scooted back and waved them in, "It will be tight, but we can manage. It sure would be nice to sleep knowing someone else is close by."
The two strangers agreed heartily with this and climbed into the pipe. Maybe she was making a mistake, but Starr was grateful for the company and the chance to exchange stories. It took some wiggling and a few giggles, but from the four-way junction each section of pipe was long enough for them to lie down in separate cylinders, and just high enough they could sit cross-legged without hitting their heads. It wouldn't be suitable for the long run because there was only one exit, but for getting some sleep it was fine for the moment.
After camouflaging the entrance with bits of debris again, Starr settled down on her blankets and yawned. The small moonstone she had bought along with the sword glimmered faintly in the dark, casting just enough light that they could see one another. The three took a moment to size each other up, and Starr had to admit neither of them felt threatening. She brushed blue-black hair out of electric blue eyes and said simply, "Well, here we are."
Tifa spoke up with a smile, saying, "We both got some sleep last night, so why don't you rest while we try and put some food together? It's all pre-packaged, but I know how to make it taste a little better by adding some stuff in."
"That sounds like a plan to me. My name is Starr Sapphire, by the way. I used to live in Sector 7, but ran away after I heard my foster parents talking about the Honey Bee Inn and that slimeball, Don Corneo." Intent on trying to fluff her makeshift pillow into decent shape, Starr didn't see the looks that passed between Tifa and Aerith.
"You... do know what that is, right?" Aerith finally asked, pulling her own pillow out of her pack and offering it to Starr.
"What, a brothel? Yeah, I know. That's why I ran. My foster parents were discussing how much money they would make by selling me to the Don, and talking about his odd... appetites." Starr sighed just before collapsing belly-down onto her blankets, plopping right into the soft cushion given to her by Aerith. She looked quite comical with her face buried in the pillow, her feet sticking straight up in the air and wiggling with pleasure. "Ah, the real thing. My bag full of rags just can't compete. I didn't want a pillow to take up so much room in my pack and thought I could make do with a substitute. What a fool I am!"
Tifa had to laugh, "Careful or you'll suffocate yourself. Do you have any objection over noodles flavored with beef curry?"
Her head popped up, electric blue eyes wide in surprise, "Noodles actually have flavor?" Levering herself up, Starr leaned over Tifa's pack and asked, "Where do you keep the magic wand? That's the only way I know how to make them taste like something other than flat mush."
Chuckling, Aerith stuffed her packs toward the back of her section of pipe after pulling out her bedroll and grinned, "Tifa has a way with food that really is magical. But go on and get some sleep first. We'll talk more after you've rested." It was going to take some serious acrobatics to lay the tarp and blankets out in the confined space, but Aerith felt up to the challenge in spite of her bruised hip.
Tifa kept pulling out little packages of herbs and spices, laying some down beside her and shoving others back in. "Really, it's okay to rest. We'll keep the noise down to a dull roar." When Starr hesitated again, Tifa laughed softly and patted the outstretched hand, "You're obviously the more experienced one here, since you found this great hideout. We would be fools to abandon you and I've had it with just surviving in this miserable place." Tifa grinned and added, "Besides, with the way you've fallen in love with that pillow, Aerith has to stay if she hopes to get it back."
Starr wondered if this was what it was like to have sisters. Lying back down, head cushioned on a real honest-to-the-goddess pillow, she drifted off grinning. Maybe, just maybe... she had made the right decision after all.
Near Sector 6 of the slums...
There was so much death and destruction surrounding him that Zack felt sick to his stomach. The very air itself was an additional hazard to breathe amid all the smoking debris and broken structures littering the landscape. Behind him, stumbling more from shock than injuries, Kunsel and Cloud tried valiantly to keep their balance in the nightmarish scene with a small body thrown over each of their shoulders. Zack was carrying the children's mother in the firefighters' hold, using one hand to steady her while the other carved a path through the wreckage with the Buster Sword.
It was so hard to believe ShinRa had really dropped the Sector 7 Plate onto the slums. And it was even harder to come to terms with the fact the Turks were the ones that implemented it by setting off the self-destruct on the pillar supporting the upper structure. Having known Tseng, Cissnei and several others of that organization for years, Zack had thought they would finally balk over the decision to kill so many just for the mere possibility of disposing of a few. Yet it had been done, even after the three SOLDIERs destroyed the main generator at Headquarters. That heroic act had only delayed ShinRa's actions for barely a day before their plan was brought to fruition.
And here he and his friends were, slogging through the rubble caused by ShinRa's determination to dominate all by fear and force. Cloud had been right about that aspect of the corrupt corporation, Zack admitted bleakly as he muscled a broken column out of their way and unwittingly uncovered the body of... It took a moment to identify the mangled remains as yet another infantryman. It was the fourth one he had found so far and his stomach clenched. The troopers had taken heavy losses while trying to help the three renegade SOLDIERs evacuate the slums. He sent up a mental prayer for the safety of their brave captain and his remaining men, and continued to fight his way through.
They will pay for this, Zack Fair swore as he and the others finally reached the emergency center to turn their burdens over to the exhausted medical technicians. Casualties were far lighter than expected due to the efforts of the elite warriors to protect all they could from ShinRa's callous disregard for life. He could only hope the others dispatched by Director Lazard were as successful in their attempts to get people off the upper plate; none of them had heard anything from the other SOLDIERs since they had cut their cell phones back on, and the silence of their comrades was ominous. Their group was almost notoriously self-sustaining, but it was unusual that in such a desperate situation there hadn't been any communications at all.
Zack's plan was to leave the minute the woman and her children were in safe hands, but he was forced to delay their departure because of Kunsel's grief. One of the kids he carried hadn't survived. So as he sat there, holding his friend's hand and watching Kunsel struggle to get hold of himself, Zack knew in his heart he was through with ShinRa. Whatever was to come, he would be against the power company for the rest of his days.
Cloud caught his look and nodded grimly; for all that he was SOLDIER now, it hadn't been his choice. He had never trusted ShinRa to begin with, and Zack wished that he had heeded Cloud's advice years ago. Rubbing a hand on Kunsel's shoulder, Zack asked quietly, "Anyone else want a bit of revenge?"
That got their attention. "What did you have in mind?" Kunsel wondered, taking in a deep breath in hopes of calming his riotous stomach. What little food he had managed to eat earlier had come up when he realized the child he had toted nearly the length of Sector 6 had probably died minutes after being snatched up. It was a grim reminder that no matter your strength or skill, you couldn't save all the innocents.
"Taking Reactor 5 off-line?" Cloud guessed quietly. At Zack's surprised look, Cloud smiled grimly. "It powers the ShinRa tower exclusively and wouldn't affect any of the Sectors, above or below the plates. If successful, we would knock out everything in the tower, even their communications, on a far more permanent level than taking out the power coupling. The only problem would be getting in; it requires codes and keycards, as well as retina scans." He took another gulp of water as he watched Zack rapidly consider the alternative ways of infiltrating the compound housing the reactor. Cloud had a few ideas himself on how to go about it, but he didn't know the system as well as the others.
A hoarse voice growled out, "If you need the retina scan, you have it right here."
All three whirled around to confront a dust-coated figure bent nearly double with exhaustion. Bailey was barely recognizable. His once black hair was white with powdered concrete, his dark brown eyes the only spots of color in his gray face. Most of his uniform was gone, replaced by whatever the rescue workers could provide. With one arm in a sling and a line of staples marching down the right side of his neck, he looked more dead than alive.
Jumping up, Kunsel hastily vacated his seat so they could attend to Bailey.
"Goddess, Grant! What happened?!" Cloud demanded as he snatched up a cloth and used what water remained in his bottle to dampen it, trying to wash what he could of the pulverized concrete off the captain's face. It was shocking to see the man so fatigued he had to lean against Zack just to stay upright in the chair.
Kunsel made the mistake of trying to comb the matted hair. Dust swirled so thickly that Bailey inadvertently inhaled some and reacted violently; the coughing fit nearly knocked him out of the chair. His eyes were too dry to tear up as he wheezed out, "A building collapsed just as we were reaching this Sector. I lost two of my men to flying shrapnel, and had to dig out four more that were buried. I didn't even realize my arm was broken until I couldn't move it anymore. Then the rubble shifted and damn near swallowed me whole. I thought I was a goner when that shard slashed the side of my neck, but rescue workers jumped in at that point and managed to stop the bleeding, then pulled me free." Grant's arm and neck had been scrubbed clean during treatment, but no one had bothered with the rest of him. There were just too many injured to worry about a little dust and grit.
"You can't go in, Grant. This could well be a suicide mission and you're in bad enough shape as it is. But one way or the other, ShinRa is going down," Zack warned as he handed over another bottle of water. He eyed the captain and wondered if a shot of Cure would do any good.
Kunsel seemed to know what he was thinking because he shook his head. It might help the broken arm and repair the slashed neck a bit, but blood loss and extreme fatigue could only be healed by time, not magic. And truthfully, he wasn't sure any of them had the strength left to activate their materia anyway…
Bailey was too tired to argue as Kunsel unscrewed the cap and held the bottle to his lips so he could drink. "Then you'll have to take the train tunnels to reach the tower, and slip into the ventilation system to get inside. I'll tell you how to get through and give you the codes to open the various panels, but you've got to promise to bail if things get too out of hand. I've lost a lot of good people today; don't make me lose more, okay?"
"I can't promise you that, Grant," Cloud said quietly. "Not with the way ShinRa usually deals with people that interfere with their plans. But we will be as careful as possible." Reaching out, he touched the hand resting in the sling and said, "This is the turning point, Grant. Even if we succeed, I'm not coming back. And I have a feeling Zack and Kunsel feel the same."
Closing his gritty eyes as Zack washed his face again, Bailey sighed and admitted, "I know that, Strife. And I suppose that's the best assurance I'm going to get, so I'll take it." Gesturing with his uninjured hand, he suggested, "One of you get me a pad and pencil so I can start sketching out the ducts before what little energy I have is gone."
"You need more water, and maybe some food," Cloud started as he rose.
And Grant's expression turned cold and remote as he informed his friend, "Don't bother with any food. I can guarantee it will come right back up after all I've seen today." He paused before turning those burning eyes to the man he had called a friend for many years. Considering his words carefully, he said, "I have a feeling you aren't the only one that's done with ShinRa after today. I made it plain to all the people we warned just who was responsible for this catastrophe, and I think it tells the story in and of itself that not a one of them doubted what I was saying. ShinRa might try to cover up all the evil they commit, but it's getting bad enough even the common people aren't fooled anymore."
Cloud's only response was, "Broth, then. You've got to have some kind of nourishment in you."
And Grant sighed and rolled his eyes as Kunsel and Zack snorted behind their hands. "Yes, mom."