~CHAPTER I~
(This chapter contains some adult language. The story itself will contain later Slash, FemSlash, and Hetero citrus material. There may or may not be inclusions of moderately graphic violence. Read at your discretion.)
A metronome stood on the mirror-polished emberoak desk of the marginally attractive Deputy Director Percibal Caradyne. It clicked in time to the twitching of the distinguished man's eye, a singular deficit in his immaculately kept office, which he obviously combed over with his microscopically smooth hairless face and neatly manicured hands. Perhaps it was because the ticking sound punctuated the density of such an uncomfortable silence that the sensation fell on him like a leaded weight to the head, making his eye wince every second, or perhaps it was because he suffered from some nervous disorder that left him secretly dependent on prescription medication and only barely capable of serving some semblance of a functional capacity for the Agency that by some miracle of pity he had been appointed the Deputy Director's job to keep him off of the field with the corps and out of some unlucky commander's outfit; Either way, it was unsettling, and he was here in front of Flux: stern faced, his white-gloved fingers interlaced, silver-peppered black hair pristinely coiffed and lightly perfumed, and with that awful tic.
"Are you listening Mr. Weiss?" the usual cool glassy depth of Caradyne's voice was clearly suffering a state of agitation, which made him sound nasally and a little like he was whining. Flux took his eyes away from the metronome where they'd been transfixed and stared nervously into the Deputy Director's face. "I'm sorry?" Flux said. He swallowed hard. He knew why he was up here. He had been sent in the middle of his written exams for cheating. He knew he hadn't actually cheated, but he wasn't sure of his ability to articulate that to Caradyne. The written exam (The Concept Retention and Assessment of Preparedness Test.), or "The Big Crapper" as the students of the Academy called it, was a five hundred page smorgasbord of impossibly trifling details expounded upon over the period of a needlessly expensive four year prep course all compiled for the sake of diverting the wheat from the chaff, the strong from the weak, the Graduates and the "Remedials". It combined World History, Mathematics, Language, Interpersonal Communications, and Para-Magical Theory, among the most heavily stressed subjects, into an uberfecta of unspeakable horrors. Thankfully for the aspiring soi-disants however, the imminent pall of death had lost its sting when the bigwig Board of Chancellors for the school noticed a diminishing margin of passing students that proved irremediable no matter how many educators they replaced, and at their wits' collective end, unanimously moved to instate a heaven-sent open-notes policy for the exams. While the policy didn't arrive without a litany of restrictive regulations (The notes assembled could not collectively exceed twenty text processor pages, to be counted by the test giver; and notes could not contain whole essays or directly worded theses for transferral to the test-slates, to name a few of the less popular addenda among the student body) it was still a leg-up on the exam for potential examees. Flux had not done anything to violate these rules except that he had made the text rather a lot smaller using his own homebrew text editor to fit more information on each page. The Instructor's Aide had counted his pages and given her approval. It wasn't until the Professor himself, Stepham Gainsly, had craned over Flux's shoulder to observe his notes that the alterations met any objection. He insisted Flux had cheated by giving himself an unfair advantage.
"Mr Weiss? I asked you a question." Caradyne's face and his twitching eye perched directly in Flux's line of sight. "Professor sir, I'm sorry, could you repeat the question?" He quailed inside because his voice sounded so small and soft in the anally clean room, partly because his Viera voice held a natural velvety rattle, but also because he knew he wouldn't sound convincing. He steeled himself for the next question. "You are an undergraduate classman with an incredibly auspicious set of scores throughout your academic history with us. What on Earth could possess you to cheat like this? In light of such an accusation you understand I'm forced to question everything we've ever seen from you? This won't do, it just won't do at all." Flux straightened himself up and felt immediately better, he was quite a lot taller than the Hume that sat across the desk from him, it made him feel more sure of his justifications, which until now had felt like 'weak-tea excuses' as his mother called the half-formed machinations of his wily mind. "Director Sir" He began, and then paused to collect his thoughts. He rubbed the velvet of his nose with the point of his index-finger, a habit he had adopted as a small boy when he realized that he was different from his parents' other children, who were all Hume. To his credit, he typically kept this behavior in check except when he was in a state of duress. He stopped himself because he realized how unprofessional it surely seemed and then he continued, affecting an air of eloquent composure he did not typically make a point of commanding: "I wasn't cheating on the test. I modified my text editor to generate smaller letters to hold all my pertinent notes. I checked the rule-book, it's not illegal according to the guidelines." His right ear twitched and then slumped to the side, standing away from his head ridiculously. There was a moment of palpable stillness, just as before, when Caradyne Placed his gloved hand over the metronome to stop the needle from ticking, his twitching eye stopped also.
The next few moments made Flux want to jump out of his skin to relieve the tension of the silence. Then, as if it were some kind of police interrogation where the culprit got pawned into confession, Caradyne's face made a small wry smile. "I suppose I should congratulate you. I graded your test myself and even with the last seven questions unanswered you are viable to be the valedictorian of your class. You're Foot Corps, am I correct?" Flux's heart plummeted for a moment before rising up to smash through his mouth, revealing an irrepressible grin of gratitude and relief, but only for a second. As soon as he was in control of his face again his expression turned smug, the image of self-assurance. "Well, we're not short on confidence are we? At any rate, you won't be getting any special commendations without passing your practical exam." Caradyne looked down at his P.D.U. (Personal Display Unit) and tapped the highly lustrous metal band to produce a translucent ghost screen that hovered just above his forearm. The display showed a small animated chocobo waving a wing that held an envelope, he dragged the image downward to cycle to the next peripheral in his Luminal Queue. He pulled up the luminal time reference he kept always at a finger's reach, a measure that absolutely screamed psychosis to Flux, after all, Four Winds, which in addition to funding the Academy, produced and licensed all P.D.U.s and their downloadable 'lumware', made plenty of ordinary clock facsimiles for casual use. The luminal time reference lumware was just an excessive application that told the hour and minute for every timezone of the world and contained "useful" spacedate references for the various moon-bases and extra-planetary colonies, this version even contained meterological. "As is stands, you have about twenty five minutes to get to your exam, and we both know Gainsly's a stickler about time." Flux stood up with a casual grace afforded his species and saluted "Sir!" "You are dismissed classman." He bowed and bounded out into the hall.
"Dude! What happened in there?" It was Io Persimian, the half Lilty, half Elvaan braniac who was Flux's best friend. He looked greenish-white with anxiety. "They didn't discharge you did they!" Flux walked forward, towering over his friend who stood at a diminutive four feet and five inches, little more than half of his own stature. He passed Io, making small strides so Io could keep up. He interlocked his hands and placed them on the back of his head, with his folded arms out to the sides. "What are you so smug about?" Io asked, a little breathless from running to match Flux's gait, with a mixture of veiled relief and mild confusion. "I thought for sure they were going to hand you the axe." He paused to pant "You're still here?" He finished, sounding unsure if he was making a statement or asking a question. Flux only smiled. He gazed down at Io's expectant expression. "Well! Are you gonna say something or are you just going to overstep me and smile stupidly?" He asked, frustrated now. Flux waited until Io looked like he was really going to yell to break the news. "He said..." Flux paused for dramatic effect, at which point Io interjected "Yes? ...What did he say!" Flux beamed and scooped Io up "He said I'm the Valedictorian." Flux said it as smoothly and as level as he possibly could to better gauge Io's unadulterated reaction.
Io raised his white eyebrows doubtingly, which looked like furrows of snow shifting against his dark Elvaan-looking skin, his grape green eyes even wider than normal. Flux set him down "I'm serious, they told me I'm going to be Valedictorian." Io looked stung "Why would they say that? We haven't even done the practical yet..." He trailed off at the end realizing the reason "Because you're the best at practicals, You and Pepper." He looked dejected. Flux knew immediately what he'd inadvertently done. "Don't go easy on the practical, I'll know." Io said coldly. They had come to the lift that they usually took down to the sub-level garage, Io turned however and opened the door to the stairwell. "Go Ahead, I'll meet you there." Flux felt the color of his victory waning from the world. "I didn't mean it, I'm sorry Io. Please don't be that way." "Be what way? Don't be what way Flux? This is like that children's story we dissected in our Lit. and Basic Composition class last year. The one about the chocobo race? Where the black chocobo and the yellow chocobo are running the track?" He waited for a moment for Flux to remember. Flux did, vaguely. "They end up racing with all the other chocobos and the black chocobo who's trained all that time is in the lead and the yellow one is far last. At the last minute, when victory looks certain, the yellow chocobo actually turns out to be a golden chocobo and takes the race?" He looked pleadingly at Flux. "You don't get it? How can you not get it!" "You're a really cool black chocobo." Flux offered hopefully. "What if I worked really hard to be a gold chocobo Flux? What if I wanted to be first at something for once? We missed the same number of questions, but we both know who's going to get the better score on our practicals! We had balance before, I had books and theory and you were the practical guy! You outscored me on a mincing technicality" Io looked livid "You just aren't cunning enough, that's all, you're still smarter than me." Flux said in his defense. "Yes well, that's going to be a huge factor in who gets chosen for the Director's list for the Foot Corps when we graduate, isn't it? You don't even care enough about anything for this to even be a real victory! You don't take anything seriously, maybe I needed this! Maybe there are bigger things in the world than weaseling under the fence Flux! Does it matter? Probably not!"
Io turned away and walked onto the landing of the stairwell. Flux removed his hand from where he'd been holding the elevator door, confused. There were lift passengers inside who'd stayed to listen to the quarrel instead of going about their business, one girl, a stout Hume with bad skin, even laughed. He glared at her and most of them made themselves look busy and returned to their affairs. "Io, wait!" Flux slipped through the doorway before the door itself pressurized against the rubber seal with a hiss. Io was already two flights down. "Io, C'mon! It wasn't like that!" "Yeah?" Io said, sounding almost frantic "What was it then? I'm not mad because I think you planned this, I'm mad because I know you didn't even care enough about your grades to plan this!" Flux didn't want Io driving away for a number of reasons: Io was already a shoddy driver without being as upset and Flux was afraid he'd hurt himself, he also didn't want Io to leave without him because they shared a carport pass, and lastly because he knew Io had a point. Instead of allowing Io free rein to slip away without fixing the problem, Flux jumped over the hand rail and down through the eye of the stairwell to the bottom, landing three flights down, right in front of Io. "Please move." "Can we talk about this?" "Please, just move." "Io, I really want to talk to you about this." "What's there to say? It's done. It's over. You're going to get Outfit Commander and I'll get the slightly-more-glamorous-than-petty-foot-soldier, Lieutenant ranking, without any actual benefits, because like all things in this world it's about who you screw over, whether intentionally or not. It's not, and has never been, about how hard you work, Stupid me, I guess for thinking my efforts meant something. It's not even like I expected effort alone to carry me to the finish line either, I'm smarter than most of our classmates, and I'm pretty damn decent at combat too." There was a moment of silence. Flux wanted to say so many things, but they wouldn't come. "Do you remember all those times I stayed in to study to keep ahead when you were out partying in town after hours with Pepper and Falon? Don't you think I wanted to be a part of that with you guys?" Io was pleading now "So you're mad because I got to live a life while you were inside all the time? I'm sorry but this isn't just about the scores, what are you actually upset about?" Flux was mildly perturbed. "Did you just want to be better than me? Did you just feel like you were better and you needed this to cement that?" "No Flux! Believe it or not, not everything in the universe revolves around you and your serendipitous all-is-well little universe where your mom is super successful and makes a shitload of money designing lumware for Four Winds and your dad is some leading conservationist who gets money from every damn investor on the planet to continue his work, and you've never had to lift a finger in your whole life to do any real work, where people just get things handed to them! This is REAL life, REAL LIFE! Flux. So I guess, in answer to your question, that's what's wrong, maybe my family needs it more than you did. You have everything already. You know what happens when Elvaan mix with other sapiens Flux? When they live in Faustos? The offending culprits get put in prison for polluting the blood, or they get dead, not storybook use-a-phoenix-down dead, like really, actually, can't take it back dead, like leaving their family of six half-breed unsponsorable children behind who can't be taken in by an orphanage because it's illegal dead where the oldest, if you can guess who that is, gets shouldered with the responsibility of working to feed the rest and doesn't get to go to school. I had to prove I was worthy to even come here! Is that reason enough for you? Does that make you feel smugly self-satisfied for fooling the system Flux? Well? DOES IT!" Io was panting with rage and indignation. "I'm sorry, I didn't know." Flux felt ill. He and Io had shared a room, they had spent four years in such close proximity and he hadn't known any of it.
"Maybe the point of that story was that no matter how good you are, no matter how hard you work, there's always someone who's naturally better than you, effortlessly better, and that you shouldn't get disheartened. Well, I bet that asshole black chocobo probably didn't have the same problems that I've had." Io looked down at his feet, his fury was exhausted. Flux looked up at him, deeply apologetic. "I didn't know." He said again. Io met his gaze. "Well, now you do..." He trailed off "I guess I should've told you all that stuff, it's just you live in this crazy technicolor dreamworld, and I just couldn't ...I'm sorry it all just came out like that." Io looked sincere. Flux wanted to say something else and silently collected himself. A few more terse moments passed and then, in spite of everything that had just happened, Io Laughed. It was small at first and then it grew until his laugh made no sound at all and he doubled over. Flux looked down at him, alarmed. "What's so funny?" He asked defensively. "It's jus- It's just-t... Your f-your face!" Flux touched his face. Io was barely intelligible and he had begun to turn purple. He looked up at Flux with tears in his eyes, his laughter abating "I'm sorry I just-" and then he began to laugh even harder. Flux who'd been worried he was having a mental break chuckled with relief and soon found himself laughing just as hard. "Your face—so-god-I just-should-'ve lied,-tol-you-I jus-want'd—t'be—Vale-vale-dict-ri-en! Hahahahahahahaha!" It was a few minutes before either of them could get up again.
It was Flux who rose from the exhausted aftermath of their fit first. He helped Io to his feet and started to lead him to the car. The silence was a little uncomfortable, though Io was still smiling. "Guess you're stuck riding with me, huh?" Io asked jokingly. He looked up at Flux who was still at a loss for words "Look, you'd better not throw the competition to make this better. I will know, you know. That would just be insulting. We're still friends, ok? I'm sorry I got all basket-case crazy on you. It was just, a lot. We just go from here on out with an open forum... deal?" He waited for Flux who still felt a little ill and then asked, more assertively "Deal...?" Drawing the emphasis out to make sure Flux knew it wasn't just rhetorical and that he really wanted Flux to be in agreeance with the terms. "Deal." Flux said after a moment of brief reflection. "Let's go kick some ass!" Io said getting into the driver's seat. Flux felt some of his humor returning. "Yeah, if you can get us there alive, crazy-ass!" "What's that supposed to mean?" "I mean you drive like a moving twenty car pileup!" Io swiped his card through the dash panel's reader, and revved the engine "Alright, back in full-force, ok, I can get down with that. Just make sure you wear your seatbelt, cuz we've only got five minutes to get there." "But, that's a seven minute drive at least, hitting no lights." Flux said with half-mock concern. He gulped. It seemed like three seconds between backing out of their spot and pulling out onto the crowded street into the far lane. "Let's see if this pileup can get us there in four!" Flux doubted it, but miraculously, Io did. A gauntlet Flux would later recount as being full of near death experiences where he got a glimpse of the otherside, and would be swiftly and correctively punched in the arm by an attendant Io.