Interrogation – A Beginner's Guide to the Confused Mind
Bright, blinding lights lit up the room. Its stark white walls were a sharp contrast to the world of metal and green he'd been living in for what seemed like forever. In his prison of glass, the days had slowly melded together until they were a single great length of time and could not be distinguished from one another.
He blinked and shook his head, trying to make his eyes adjust faster to the light and the vast emptiness of the room. He was seated at a table across from four other men; all of who were wearing the familiar white coats that almost served as camouflage in a room like this. The one on the far left was scribbling furiously on a notepad while Hojo looked over his shoulder and nodded approvingly. The other two men simply stared at him while they waited for their colleague to finish.
Finally the black pen was placed down on the table. He felt all four pairs of eyes fix him with a hard, uncaring gaze and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He was not sure he was looking forward to what was coming.
"Tell me what happened."
It was an order, not a request, but at first he was not even sure what it was they wanted to know. The men waited patiently however, almost as if they had expected this to happen.
His brow furrowed as he tried to remember. "It... It was night. I was set to keep watch, make sure that everyone was inside their homes by curfew. I checked in with my mother before going back to make my report. She had made chicken noodle soup." A faint smile crept across his face at the memory; mom had always been the best cook in town.
One of them, a fat man with a receding hairline who went by the name of Dr. Krantz licked his lips, but apart from that they did not seem satisfied with his account. They were waiting for what came next. What was that again?...
"I opened the gate to the mansion, and he was walking towards me."
"Who?"
Lowering his head, he closed his eyes only to see another pair glaring at him. Horrible, horrible green eyes, with an anger in them of the like he had never seen before.
"...Sephiroth."
They leaned forward at the name, waiting for more. Hojo motioned to the man beside him and again the pen began scribbling furiously, though what was being written he could not tell.
"What happened then?"
He looked up, staring blankly at the wall behind them. Why did they want to know this? He had told them before, told them the exact same thing before.
"I- I came out of the mansion and saw the town burning."
The pen stopped. The men looked at one another, then back at him.
"You said before you had opened the gate to see him coming towards you. Now you say you were in the mansion to begin with?"
"What?"
"Were you in the mansion, or were you outside already?" Hojo was losing his patience, an event that happened often enough judging by how the others cringed at the clenching of their superior's teeth.
"I was..."
He could feel the heat of the flames, see the furious eyes of the general. He remembered feeling utterly useless, like there wasn't anything he could do to help, like a failure.
He blinked and shook his head again. Why were they staring at him? What could possibly be so interesting about him that warranted such unwanted attention? Why did they have to keep asking him questions? So many questions... and him unable to answer them.
Why couldn't he remember? He should, the answers were there somewhere, mixed up with all the horrible memories of that night. So many memories and yet he had no idea of what had happened.
Had he come running outside when he heard the screams? Had he followed Sephiroth to make sure he didn't do anything crazy? Had he stopped to give his report, welcome him back, only to be ignored? He remembered chasing after him when the item shop went up in flames. He yelled, screamed at him to stop, but the rampage continued. The flames had spread before his eyes with barely another word from the general, like they were feeding off of the lives of the townspeople.
By the time he had left the mansion some had managed to escape, only to become bloodstains on the blade of the masamune. By the time he had left the mansion? But he hadn't been there to begin with! Why were his memories so disjointed? Why couldn't he remember?
"Professor Hojo? Perhaps we should wait until he's stronger..."
It was the fat one speaking. He was seated on the far right, and had to lean forward to see his superior.
"No. There's no time. We need to know what happened now before he forgets entirely." Hojo turned his focus back to him now, setting his jaw as he prepared for another assault of questions. "Now, Mr. Strife," he leaned back in his chair casually, hiding his frustration. "I want you tell me precisely what happened that night."
Mr. Strife... It sounded so formal, like something his mother would call him when he was in trouble. It didn't sound... It didn't sound right.
Hojo frowned when his subject gave him no answer. He didn't like being ignored, but with Strife having the mind of a confused five-year-old, getting the answers had proved to be a tiresome process. For months the entire event had been shut out of his mind completely; it had taken them ages to get this far and he wasn't about to give up now.
"Then let's start from the beginning. Your name is Cloud Strife, correct?"
Bright blue eyes fixed on him. "Yes."
"You were born in Nibelheim?"
Again, the same blank stare, then finally an answer. "Yes."
"You left at the age of fourteen to join the Shinra army, did you not?"
When had they found out this information on him? He didn't remember telling them any of it. Still, he couldn't deny that the answer was..."Yes."
"And you were in Nibelheim the night of July 16th two years later?"
He gulped, why did they always have to bring it up? Why did they always try to make him face it, when he wasn't even sure what he was supposed to be facing?
"Well?"
"...Yes."
"Would you tell us the details of what happened that night?"
His mind raced. Another order disguising itself as a request. But they'd already asked him that, and he'd told them, hadn't he? He'd told them how Sephiroth had burnt the town, killed its people. How he'd gone up the mountain to the reactor and separated his mother's head from her freakish body. How he'd killed Tifa's father and nearly killed Tifa. How he'd been attacked, no, how he'd attacked him! Thrown him over the catwalk, then went back to Zack to tell him --
Zack? When had Zack gotten involved in this?
"Cloud?"
"Y-yeah? That's me."
"What are you thinking Cloud?"
"I - I don't know. I don't know what happened. He burned everything, killed everyone. I, I tried to save her, but the smoke, it made me cough and I collapsed. I couldn't breathe. But I saw them go up to the reactor so I followed them. He'd killed them by the time I got there, or, he almost had. They were dying! I couldn't do anything, like when the bridge broke. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't do anything..." Cloud clutched his head and started rocking back and forth in his chair, mumbling incoherently.
The men looked at each other, unsure of how to proceed; all except Hojo at least. The Head of the Shinra Science Department leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on the table.
"This is very important Cloud. I need you to tell me exactly who was in the reactor that night. Who was dead when you got there?"
Cloud looked up, pain evident in his blue mako eyes. "Mr. Lockheart and Zack."
Hojo breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back in his chair. They had found the mayor dead when they had gotten there, Cloud and Zack barely alive. They had taken the fourth pool of blood to be from Sephiroth, but there had always been the possibility of someone else who had somehow managed to escape before Shinra helicopters had arrived. Hojo had never dreaded a phone call as much as he had the one that came from Zack that night.
"He hit Tifa when I ran in."
The pen fell from its' user's grip and clattered onto the floor. No one but Hojo had ever considered the possibility that someone had been there and escaped. It was impossible. Such a loss of blood, she'd never have been able to make it out on her own, which could only mean that there was yet another who had carried the girl out.
They began muttering to each other, wondering what this could mean for the future of Shinra. The loss of General Sephiroth had forced dramatic changes in the company. Reno and Tseng had risen in importance, and were currently looking for a new addition to help with their increased range of responsibilities. The Nibelheim Accident was carefully being covered up and inhabitants were being brought over to occupy the rebuilt houses. People from the slums, carefully selected to be sure that they would keep their mouths shut for a roof over their head and a monthly paycheck. If somebody had made it, somebody who, unlike Strife, knew exactly what had happened, somebody with nothing to lose. If that somebody told...
"Shut up!" Hojo growled, rising to his feet. "You're overreacting, all of you! I don't want to hear another word about the possibility that someone survived! Dr. Winston, I want your final report on my desk by the end of the day. Dr. Jansen, Dr. Krantz, escort the specimen back to his cell immediately. And would somebody get Heidegger in my office damn it?" With that he stormed out, leaving the others to their respective tasks.
Dr. Jansen sighed and walked over to Cloud. "Come on, time to go see your friend Zack," he said, helping him up.
Cloud looked up at him with sad blue eyes and put a hand to his head. He was suddenly feeling very weak and his head was throbbing from Hojo's outburst and from the idea that maybe Tifa had survived. He had to tell Zack. Zack would tell him if it was real or not. Zack always knew the truth from a lie.
Slowly, his head bowed, Cloud made his way back to his prison of metal and glass. Back to his world of green.
Despair – What Moral Dilemma?
Darkness. It was so thick it pressed in all around him. The rotting wood of his self-confined prison filled his nostrils and conquered all his other senses. Though his deadened body lay in a coffin his mind drifted through worlds filled with memories of the sins he had committed. The beast within him growled and caused the metallic hand, beneath which lay the arm of a monster, to twitch.
This was his eternal purgatory. He had no idea how long it had been since Hojo had trapped him in the basement of the Shinra mansion and the thought did not particularly concern him. He deserved to sleep for eternity.
In the beginning his semi-conscious mind had dreamed of escaping the basement to claim revenge against Hojo. Then he would find Lucrecia and take her away to where she could live the rest of her life in peace and he could spend his protecting her. But as he grew to know the monster Hojo had burdened him with he realized the most likely scenario would involve protecting her from himself.
"I've genetically altered you," he sneered. "Now you will be recognized as the monster you are if anyone should be stupid enough to dig up the dead." That phrase had haunted him through the years; Hojo was a recurring theme in his nightmares.
He sometimes wondered what he was doing. By now he was sure enough time had passed for Gast to have retired. Had Hojo succeeded him? Was the president crazy enough to make him head of the science department? Was Lucrecia still with him? Had she survived the birth? But the question that most frequently ran through his head was what sort of man Sephiroth had become. Had he become the high-tech warrior Hojo and Gast dreamed of? Or had he grown to become the man his mother wished him to?
The monstrous arm twitched again as he thought of his greatest sin. Lucrecia feared she wouldn't survive Sephiroth's birth but even greater than that she worried how Hojo would raise him. He had sworn to watch over her son should she unspeakable happen. He had promised not to let Hojo use him as a weapon or treat him as only a specimen.
This was her wish for him; perhaps it had even been her last wish. He had failed her and her son and was now unable to redeem himself. It was another sin he could add to his long list. Most of them had occurred while working with the Turks but the most damning always concerned Lucrecia.
He remembered her as she had been the first time he saw her. He'd really only caught a glimpse when he'd been introduced to the science team he would be escorting to Nibelheim. She was wearing her bulky white lab coat and her silky hair was pulled away from her face. But it was the image of her face that remained with him. Her eyes were a rich chocolate brown. Her skin, though pale, was smooth and flawless. From that first moment he hadn't been able to pull his eyes away from her stunning beauty.
As he got to know her a little better her intelligence had astounded him even more. It was different from the technical knowledge of Hojo and Gast. They knew about specimens and mako and gene splicing. Lucrecia knew of Spirit Energy and the Promised Land and the endless bounty the planet had to offer. She called herself a natural scientist, one who studies the wonders of the planet. He had never learnt as much as he had during their long conversations. Their walks through the mountains were some of the fondest memories he had.
The beast growled, shattering his memories of happiness. It was right; he didn't deserve any. He had failed in every one of his attempts to help her through her pregnancy. The image of her happy, beautiful face morphed into the one she'd worn the last time he'd seen her. Her face was pale and drawn, void of any life. Her eyes glowed in the darkness from all the mako her husband had injected her with. She barely had any strength to get out of bed and she spoke in hushed tones. However all of that paled in comparison to the psychological damage she had endured as a result of the Jenova Project.
Only in the last trimester of her pregnancy had they begun injecting her and her child with Jenova cells. It was the most dangerous and the most painful part of the project. She would barely speak for days after each treatment and lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Vincent had begged her to cancel the project but she had quietly reassured him that her son would survive even if she didn't and he would protect the legacy of the planet.
"This Jenova is an Ancient, Vincent. There are no more to care for the planet, but Sephiroth will make things different. He will have the blood of the Ancients and he alone will be able to lead us to the Promised Land." He could still hear her voice after all these years. It was almost as though he were still kneeled at her bedside, asking her to leave the mansion with him, to leave Hojo and Jenova behind and live with him someplace where her husband would never find them.
Had Sephiroth and Jenova led the rest of humanity to the Promised Land as Lucrecia believed he would? He never believed her when she spoke of her son's future. There was something wrong with that creature Gast had found a year before. He had only seen it a few times but instinctively felt there was some terrible secret it was hiding from Shinra's most brilliant scientists. From his work as a Turk he had learned to trust his instincts more than his logic but Lucrecia could not be dissuaded. Another sin.
He didn't like thinking about his life before he had met Lucrecia. It had been transformed the moment he saw her anyway. But his sins were so numerous he sometimes found himself dreaming of the time when he didn't care about anything. Life had taught him that it was often better to be cold and unfeeling. He managed a sardonic smile as he remembered a conversation he'd had with his superior on the subject. At that point people were just beginning to suspect him of having an affair with her.
"Don't get involved in this Vincent. The last thing I need is one of my guys on a crusade due to some ridiculous moral dilemma you're having."
"I'm a Turk. I don't have moral dilemmas."
How wrong that statement had proved to be. He'd still been resistant back then, didn't want to admit that he cared about what happened to her. The very fact that he'd claimed not to have any moral dilemmas seemed terribly ironic now. He was consumed by his guilt: the pain that the beast within him seemed to feed upon. He could feel it within him; it loved every second that he was in this coffin, relished every minute of his slumber. Every hour of every day that he remained in the basement of the Shinra mansion he allowed it to exist. It fed on his guilt and his desire for revenge.
But revenge was something he would never allow himself to take. He deserved to spend eternity in this hell his mind had created for him. Hojo would meet his fate in hell and he would just have to wait to get his hands on him there. This world would not see him avenge the monstrous experiments Hojo had performed on his wife. He had too many sins on his shoulders already.
Encounters – The Plants Talk Back
"Would you like a flower? They're only one gil."
Aeris had been selling flowers on the streets of Midgar for three years now, discreetly making her income off of the delicate little blossoms. For the first few years she had only taken flowers from the garden at her home until she stumbled upon a garden in a small church deep in the slums of Sector Five. Since then she had returned to the church almost every day to tend to the garden.
She felt safe in the church and connected to the planet in a way that she never had while tending to the garden at home. She had never seen anyone else there and often wondered whether others even knew of its existence. After all, she reasoned, it had taken her this long to find it and she had lived in Sector Five for most of her life.
Aeris smiled. Most of her life was precisely the reason she had taken to such a liking to the old church. There was a sense of history in it that she had never felt anywhere else in the city of steel and darkness she lived in. The church was from a time when the sectors had names, when there hadn't been a plate to segregate the citizens of Midgar, and when the planet could be heard with relative ease. She knew that her ancestors had lived in that time and it seemed to her that the spirits of the Ancients could speak to her in its' peaceful tranquility.
Elmyra had never really understood why Aeris had taken to spending so much of her time in the rundown church with the hole in its roof. Sometimes Aeris thought that the only reason Elmyra never asked her about it was because the Turks had never bothered her there. Since her childhood both Tseng and Reno had visited her house on numerous occasions in an effort to bring her back to Shinra Headquarters. But like the rest of Midgar it didn't seem that they were aware of the small church.
When she was young they had tried bribery, promising her candies and rides in a helicopter. Eventually as she grew older they began simply showing up and asking if she was ready to go to the Headquarters with them. After a brief conversation they would leave and she wouldn't see them again for a few months or so.
Aeris was well aware of the Turks' reputation, but for some unknown reason they had never shown any kind of hostility towards her. When she refused to go with them they would press on a little bit, but never for very long and when they left she rarely saw them again for at least a couple of months. It had become a routine for her, though it was by no means a comfortable one. For days after her latest encounter with Shinra's assassins Elmyra would preach caution and Aeris knew that her worry was not without reason. Somehow she couldn't escape the feeling that eventually Shinra would lose their patience with her and then the Turks' ruthless reputation would finally catch her.
But none of that matters right now, she thought, checking over her shoulder before opening one of the doors to the church.The Turks have never looked for me here, and I have no reason to think they ever will. With those thoughts pushed to the back of her mind she knelt down beside the small garden and began clearing out the weeds.
"How are you guys doing today? Feeling alright?" She giggled at what she felt was the flower's response. "Oh you're thirsty are you? I can take care of that. Anything else I can do? I have to take care of you; you're the only plants alive in this whole city. Sometimes I think you're more alive than any of the people in this city too. But that's not really surprising, is it? People are the ones who killed Midgar so it's kind of suiting that they're just as dead as it is." She paused again, listening to the gentle replies of the flowers as she watered them.
"Oh no! I don't want them to die. I just, I wish they wouldn't do things like this to you. It sounds silly I guess, but I just wish we could all get along and be healthy again. This city isn't good for them or for you."
She began to garden in silence when she was startled by a noise from the back area of the church. She looked up and was dismayed to see Tseng standing in front of her, a small smile on his face.
"Talking to your floral friends?" he asked, walking towards her.
Aeris struggled to maintain her composure as she answered Tseng. "They're better company than some other people I can think of," she said as she went back to her weeding.
"Ouch I think that hurt." He continued to walk closer and crouched down on the opposite side of the garden from her. "This is where the daffodils came from."
Aeris stopped what she was doing and looked up at him. "Excuse me?"
"You've had daffodils in your basket the last few days. You don't grow them in your garden at home so I wondered where they came from."
"You've been… following me?" Aeris could feel her throat constricting as all of Elmyra's warnings ran through her head.
"We're always following you Aeris. You're a top priority Shinra target. If we don't follow you there's a chance you might disappear and we can't allow that, can we?"
Aeris gulped. "No, of course not," she said, only vaguely aware of the fact that he had moved so that he was standing right beside her. Instead she was staring straight ahead, her eyes fixed on a single point of the wall.
Shinra had been following her. They knew all about the church and her everyday comings and goings. They probably even knew what she bought, where she bought it and how much it cost. She was such a fool to think she was safe here.
She licked her lips, trying to wet her mouth so she could ask the question that ran through her head over and over again.
"Have you come to take me away?"
Tseng looked down at her, and gently reached down to stroke her hair. He felt her shudder at his touch and pulled his hand back. "No Aeris, not unless you're ready to come."
She knew her relief showed but honestly didn't care. For all the reasons she had to fear Tseng the Turk had never lied to her. "Then why…"
"Why come? It's been some time since my last visit and I thought I should come and see you again." He noticed her wince and the smile disappeared from his face. "Believe it or not I do enjoy these little run-ins."
She stood and turned around to face him. Her courage was bolstered by the fact that she felt relatively safe now. She looked him in the eye and said, "I'm glad one of us does."
Tseng raised his eyebrows slightly but otherwise gave her no reaction. Instead he surprised her by turning around and walking towards the door. "I'm heading off to Cosmo Canyon later this morning and expect to be fairly busy for some time after that. As it stands I won't have any time to drop in for another one of these visits for at least a couple of months." He paused and looked back at her, "Don't go missing on me."
Aeris continued to stand watching the door even after he had closed it behind him. "I wouldn't dream of it," she whispered.
She stayed watching the door for awhile longer and when she was sure that he wasn't coming back she turned back to the garden and returned to her work.
"What's that? Oh I'll be all right. I wasn't expecting him that's all. Yes I know, I wonder why he comes too. Sometimes I think he's just lonely, but I'm sure he could pick better company than me."
Capture – Prancing Hooligans are Fun
The walls of the canyon glowed a brilliant red in the light of the setting sun. Nanaki, last of his breed, lay by the great Cosmo Candle watching the dancing flames. The world around him slowly faded away until the fire completely consumed his vision.
Shapes emerged from the heart of the bonfire, unrecognizable at first and then more defined as a story began to play out before his eyes. He had seen it countless times before; a story of death, bloodshed, bravery and cowardice.
The great hordes of barbarians fought ferociously, driven on by the strong desire to kill all the inhabitants of the canyon. For awhile it looked as if they would go unchallenged, then through the flames burst his mother, leading the tribe into battle. They fought bravely, determined in their mission to defend their ancestral home.
But they were surrounded. The Gi warriors were everywhere; in the village, in the canyon beyond… There was no end to their numbers. The battle raged throughout the night until finally, by the light of the newly born sun Nguni, mother of Nanaki, chased the final barbarians from the canyon with what would be the last of her strength.
"And she died a brave and honourable death."
Nanaki jumped at the sound of his grandfather's voice. "It was more than my father did," he said sitting up.
Bugenhagen chuckled. "Do not be so quick to trust the flames Nanaki. They show only one part of the story."
"But my father was not in the battle! You said so yourself, he ran away!"
"Ho ho hoooooo. Did I say that?"
"Grandfather!"
"Do not let your mind be clouded by hate, lest your actions reflect your thoughts," he said sagely. And with that he descended from the Fire Plateau and made his way back up to the observatory.
Nanaki snorted and lay back down. Grandfather was right of course; he was always right when it came to things like this. He should not judge his father when he had not heard Seto's side of the story. But it was so easy to, given what he already knew. His father had fled the canyon like a coward to save his own fur! His race was supposed to protect the people of the canyon, not leave them to the barbarian hordes.
Nanaki shook his head and rose to his feet. Whatever had happened all those years ago had no bearing on the present. He was Nanaki, son of Nguni, and he would protect the canyon with his life like his ancestors before him.
"Nanaki!"
He turned and saw Tuthya running towards him. "Tuthya? What is it?"
"There are two men from Shinra who want to speak with Bugenhagen, do you know where he is?"
"He went up to the observatory, would you like me to get him?" He regretted the words the moment they were out of his mouth; he was Nanaki, the last of his tribe, he should have offered to stand guard as a warrior, not run errands like a lowly page.
"No, I'll find him, could you stay with Deyrahe and make sure they don't enter the village?"
"Of course," Nanaki hid his relief. His ancestors must be smiling on him to give him a second chance.
As he made his way to the village entrance Nanaki focused his attention on the Shinra businessmen. There were two of them; both dressed in the same navy blue suits, yet each completely different in appearance.
One was casually leaning against a wooden post and yawning. A pair of sunglasses were perched on his head, keeping his long red hair out of his face. His suit looked as if it had been picked up off of the floor after lying there for a month. His shirt was messy and un-tucked, his jacket was not done up, and his pants didn't look like they had ever been folded in their entire existence.
Surprisingly enough though, it was his co-worker that caught Nanaki's attention. He had straight, jet black hair, which fell to below his shoulders and matched the colour of his ruthless eyes. His suit seemed to have been picked up from the dry cleaners that very morning, a sharp contrast to his colleague's appearance. He watched Nanaki approach with disgust in his eyes then cast a quick glance over to his colleague.
Nanaki flinched, then silently reprimanded himself for his cowardice and met the businessman's gaze eye for eye. "Tuthya went to go get Grandfather, he should be here shortly," Nanaki said, doing his best to sound official.
The red-haired man stood up straight and reached for his briefcase, which sat on the ground next to him. "Forget the bumbling old man, you're coming with us."
"What are you talking about?" Deyrahe cried.
"What? You actually thought we were investors? Our reputation usually precedes us, you really must live in a very small world."
It was only when the stern, ruthless man pulled out a gun did Nanaki realize who they were. Growling, he leapt at the man, knocking the gun out of his hand and pinning him to the ground.
In a flash his partner had pulled out a nightstick and was preparing to strike when Tuthya, returning with Bugenhagen, caught his arm and stopped him.
"What is the meaning of this?" Bugenhagen asked, floating over in his usual manner. "I was told you were Shinra investors, wanting to help preserve the canyon, yet you attack the villagers? What are you really doing here?"
Pushing Nanaki off of him, the black-haired man stood up and dusted himself off. "We are what we said we were. Professor Hojo has decided to invest in the future of science and sent us to ensure that the…paperwork goes through."
Nanaki snarled, but Bugenhagen motioned for him to relax and stepped forward to place his wrinkled hand on Nanaki's head. The two Turks moved so that they were standing next to eachother, each holding their weapon ready.
The four stood there like that for awhile, neither moving nor saying a word. Tuthya and Deyrahe stood apart from the conflict, watching as the canyon's elder faced the two most ruthless men in Shinra.
Finally, Reno sighed and stepped forward, his nightstick ready. "Listen old man, we didn't come here to have a staring contest with you or to make a deal, we came here to get that beast and take it back to the lab. Now if you don't like it, that's just too bad for you, because that's the way it's gonna work."
"You Shinra hooligans know nothing about our way of life. You prance around the world like you own it, taking what you please from the planet and never giving anything in return," Bugenhagen said, floating up so that he towered above them.
"You want something in return? I can give you something in return." With that Reno walked up to the old man and struck his legs with the nightstick. The elder fell to the ground as Tuthya and Deyrahe ran forward to help him.
Nanaki let loose a howl and immediately attacked the Turk, but Reno was prepared and dealt out another hard blow, this time at Nanaki. He fell and was in the process of getting up when the nightstick crashed down on him for a second time.
Tseng, who had been watching the fight with an amused look on his face knelt down and opened the briefcase. Removing its' contents, he proceeded to bind the unconscious Nanaki as Reno glared menacingly at the villagers who had gathered, his nightstick ready. Then the two Turks picked the Nanaki up and loaded him into the helicopter.
"You could have killed that old man you know," Tseng said as they settled in for the flight back to Shinra Headquarters.
"Does it look like I care? He called me a prancing hooligan."
Fired – Would You Like Some Lard With That?
Cid Highwind stood on the deck of his ship staring off into the distance. They had landed in Rocket Town to refuel before setting off for Wutai. The crew had left to refuel themselves, and while most of them had invited the captain into town with them, he had refused with a gruff shake of the head. He knew what waited for him in town and had no desire whatsoever to face it.
The old engineers with whom he had worked with all those years ago were nice enough and they would never say anything to his face, but any time he talked to one of them he could see the disappointment in their eyes. They didn't necessarily blame him for aborting the launch, they left that for Shera, but he embodied their, and his own, lost dream.
Shera. She was probably the biggest reason for his staying on board. "Yes Captain", "Alright Captain", "I'll get it Captain". It was all he could do to stop himself from strangling her. Her herbal tea wasn't going to reopen the Space Program, or repair the rocket, or make him blame her any less. But he knew doing all that stuff made her feel like she was doing something to make up for it. So he let her stay in his house and clean and cook while he did his best to avoid her for all the memories she made him face.
And that was exactly what he was doing right now, standing on the deck of the airship smoking a cigarette and gazing at the rocket.
Well, maybe he wasn't really avoiding the memories. But then again, how could he? Space haunted his thoughts by day and consumed his vision at night. The worst part though, was that whenever anybody asked him a question, the only thing he could hear was "What are you going to do Captain?"
But if his dreams of space were dead, then he could at least be partially comforted with the fact that the skies still belonged to him. Young pilots rose and crashed every day, but he was still number one in the sky. It was one of the reasons why the greatest ship in Shinra's fleet bore his name.
Oddly enough, the skies had saved his life more than once during the war. His skill had earned him the position of Captain when the Space Program was first opened, and had allowed him to stay in Rocket Town instead of fighting over in Wutai.
He squinted as the sun came out from behind a cloud, then moved his hand up to block it as he tried to identify the man making his way towards him. He grumbled to himself when he saw that it was Palmer, slowly waddling over to the airship to talk to his number one pilot. As he descended from the deck to meet his superior, Cid tried to convince himself that Palmer was coming with the news that the President was re-opening the Space Program, but had to refrain from laughing at the very idea. President Shinra had shown no indication that he wanted to give the aging rocket another launch, ever.
"How's my top pilot?" Palmer asked, holding his hand out.
"Not bad, all things considered," he answered, shaking it.
"I don't suppose that there's anywhere we might… talk? Over a cup of tea, maybe?"
Cid groaned as he led the fat executive into town for some of Shera's herbal tea.
"Captain? Is that you? I heard that Palmer was in town, did he come to… oh, hello Mr. Palmer."
"Shera, put on some goddamn tea."
"Yes Captain," she replied immediately, filling the kettle.
Cid and Palmer sat down at the kitchen table as Palmer pulled his briefcase up onto the table and opened it.
"What made ya come down here? I doubt it's Shera's fuckin' herbal tea."
"Ah, well, actually I've got some bad news."
"Bad news? What kind of bad news?"
"Well, the company is downsizing its airforce and unfortunately that means we've had to let some people go."
"How long we been workin' together Palmer? I know ya better than most of my own pilots. Only time ya talk smoothly is when you're trying to get away with somethin'." Pulling a cigarette out of his pack, he lit it and took a long drag. "So tell me, which one of my men are you firing?"
"We call it 'letting go'."
"Then who're ya 'lettin' go'?"
"This is where the bad news comes in. See, in an effort to conserve salaries, the President made the decision to encourage a handful of our veterans to go into early retirement, and well, you're one of them."
"You're firing me!"
"We prefer to call it 'letting you go". Or you could even think of it as a great retirement package. Thank you," He added as Shera poured him a cup of hot Mideelan tea.
"Palmer! I ain't even thirty yet! I'm too goddamn young for retirement!"
"We considered that, but the company still feels that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for you to explore other career options while still receiving compensation from Shinra Inc."
"This is bullshit that's what it is! You know that I'm a hundred times better than any of those hot young guns you been bringin' in!" he said, slamming his fist on the table.
"But you haven't even heard what the package entails!" Palmer whimpered.
"It don't seem like I need to, does it? I don't take this goddamn 'retirement package' an' you'll fire me anyway!"
"That's not a very constructive way to look at things," the fat executive muttered, taking a sip of his tea. "Hmmm, you wouldn't have any lard to go with this would you?" he asked, turning to the young engineer.
"No, sorry," she said, giving him a forced, tight smile.
"Too bad," he pouted.
Cid had stopped listening, and was leaning back in his chair, eyes closed as he thought back to all the different choices he had made along the way that had brought him here. He had been the best of all the students in his flight school and one of Shinra's first fighter pilots. He was also their first choice for the position of captain when the Space Program opened, and even after it had been shut down he was still considered one of the best pilots around, always capable of getting the job done. Yet here the company to whom he had given over control of his dreams was firing him.
"Goddamn it Palmer! How could ya do this? First you downsize the air fleet, and now you're firing your own vets? Just what the hell does the president think he's doing? Tell me that!"
Palmer winced and ignored the grizzled pilot's question. "The company will give you a generous pension package upon the Highwind's return to Junon, the ship will still bear your name, and you'll be allowed to keep your pilot's license so you can keep flying the Tiny Bronco."
It took all he had to keep from laughing. They were going to let him keep the Tiny Bronco! The small leisure plane that he had bought and customized so that it was an exact replica of the plane that had been his first love, they were going to let him keep flying it! Whoever said that Shinra didn't know how to be generous had obviously made a huge mistake.
"You want me to finish this trip to Wutai?" He had tried to make it sound civil, but his question had come out as more of a growl.
Palmer seemed relieved by Cid's reluctant acceptance and took another sip of his tea. "Of course! That's what I meant when I said 'upon the Highwind's return to Junon'."
"You said the Highwind had to get back to Junon, not that I had to be with it."
"I clearly misspoke then," he said, his voice becoming smoother as he saw this conversation coming to a successful close. "The president wouldn't dream of denying you a final flight, or a chance to announce your retirement to your crew." Standing, he finished off his tea before continuing, "I better get going. There's a meeting in Midgar that I must attend. Miss Shera, it was a pleasure, as always."
Pulling her eyes away from the Captain, she gave the fat executive another tight smile and a curt "Goodbye" as he left the house.
Cid took another drag from his cigarette and finished off his tea under the concerned gaze of Shera. He sighed, looked up at her and said "Shut the fuck up" before standing and walking out the door, slamming it behind him.
Pain – Fire, Smoke, Guns, Screams, Death
Fire, smoke, guns, screams, death.
One shot, that was all it took to cause Dyne to lose his grip and let go of Barret's hand, sending him tumbling down the side of the cliff. He had seen the bullet go clear through Dyne's left hand tearing his flesh and causing him to scream out as he fell out of Barret's reach. He leaned forward, fumbling and trying desperately to catch his friend when he heard the sound of a second shot being fired, this one aimed at him.
Immediately after he heard the shot he jerked away from the edge of the cliff-side road and brought his right arm up to shield his face. He could feel the bullet hit him in the palm of his hand. A searing pain shot up his arm and he fell back, clutching the wound.
He heard the woman in the red dress laugh, cackling even as she threw the gun that she had been using at one of her own troopers. Her glee appeared to be short-lived however as she immediately began berating them for their incompetence. Before she could grab another weapon he was off, stumbling around the bend and out of sight.
Fire, smoke, guns, screams, death.
North Corel had once been a lively mining town, their coal supplying huge amounts of the electricity for people and cities across the globe. However its' international status had decreased in recent years due to the rising popularity of Shinra's mako reactors. Granted, they still had numerous buyers in places like Kalm and Wutai but lately many families were packing up and moving to what had become South Corel in search of a new career.
Dyne and Barret had been chosen by the town's council to express their concerns at a meeting with Shinra Inc. back before construction on the reactor had begun. They were supposed to find a, what had the elder called it? A viable solution to the problems of North Corel, not the least of which included selling the mines to the corporate super-power. Which of course was what happened, and just a week after the meeting Corel officially handed over the mines to Shinra they began building the mako reactor.
Fire, smoke, guns, screams, death.
Dyne had never wanted to sell the mines. He opposed it all the way to the end; he still was as a matter of fact. He had moped about town for awhile, going up to the reactor site every day and glaring at it. But about a week and a half ago he had stopped moping and began spending most of his time his basement with a few other men who had opposed. Barret knew his friend well enough to know he was up to something but until yesterday afternoon he had refused to tell him anything. Turned out he had good reason; Dyne was planning to sabotage the reactor and he knew Barret would try to stop him. He had only told him yesterday because everything was set in motion and he couldn't talk him out it.
If he had known ahead of time or figured it out himself he might have been able to stop him. When he'd gone back home that evening and told Myrna about it she had convinced him to phone Shinra and notify them about the plans. It was an awful decision to make. He didn't sleep at all that night but lay awake thinking about how he had betrayed his friend.
Barret didn't tell Dyne about his phone call to Shinra. Dyne had asked him to go up with him to the plateau to watch whatever he had planned. And though Barret hesitated, he did agree to go. He was worried Dyne might suspect something if he didn't and wanted to be there to answer to him when Shinra stopped the terrorist attack. He owed him that much.
Barret groaned from the pain in his arm as the smoking homes of North Corel came into view. He stumbled towards the town, hoping against all hope that his ill and pregnant wife had somehow made it out.
Apparently it wasn't Dyne he should have been worried about.
Fire, smoke, guns, screams, death.
"Myrna!" She'd gotten out, he kept telling himself, she was safe.
He coughed, the smoke obscuring his vision and filling his lungs. Clutching his hand he stumbled along through the haze. The houses were burning. The wooden homes of Corel, built with such care by the miners who had established the town generations ago, were burning.
Dead bodies littered the streets; some had been shot, others struck with fallen beams and planks. Shinra soldiers had swept through the town already, killing any who stood up to them. It wasn't supposed to happen this way.
Barret looked around at the bodies wildly. There was no sign of Myrna; that could only be a good sign, right? It meant she'd escaped, that she had gotten out and was safe.
…Didn't it?
Fire, smoke, guns, screams, death.
"Myrna!"
Ducking under a fallen beam, he entered the smoking remains of his house. Dancing flames reached towards him and seared his skin. Clouds of thick, black smoke filled the air, almost blinding him entirely.
"Myrna!" he coughed, reaching out towards a shadowy figure, only to have it melt away before him.
He shouldn't have left. He shouldn't have left her home sick like that. Elenor had promised to check in on her, but they both knew she couldn't risk Marlene getting sick. She had been in such poor health lately as it was, if she caught Myrna's illness she wouldn't stand much of a chance. Oh God, how could he tell Elenor about Dyne?
There was no sign of life in the house. No screams, no bodies, no movement. Nobody on the flaming couch, nor tucked under the covers in bed.
She'd made it. She was safe. Wasn't she?
Fire, smoke, guns, screams, death.
Forced out of the house by the instinctive need for air, Barret stumbled outside and looked around, desperately searching for any sign of his wife. Instead he found Elenor lying next to the burning hospital, her limp arms still clutching her daughter in a tightly bundled mass of bloody blankets. Flames consumed Elenor's smooth, brown hair hungrily, licking her skin. Blood had trickled down her forehead and dried there, having spilled from the bullet wound that had killed her.
The blankets were crying.
For a moment his eyes went wide, then he realized that the sound meant Marlene was alive and he ran over to her. Unthinking, he reached for her then cursed himself for forgetting about the awful pain in his right hand. He moved the blankets aside with his left hand, then carefully drew the young girl closer to him with his right arm. Still crouched down, he moved her so that she was sitting on his left shoulder then slowly stood up. Leaving the dead body of his friend's wife behind he turned to leave town.
Fire, smoke, guns, screams, death.
He made his way into the mountains, where the air wasn't thick, black, and laden with the stench of death. Following the old tracks toward the reactor, he took the high road that looped around to South Corel. There, surely there would be people who would take them in until everything blew over. Though how he could ask for the help of anybody after what he had done was beyond him at the moment.
He walked throughout the night, fleeing from the great clouds of smoke that obscured the light of the crescent moon. Marlene had shifted so that he was now giving her a piggyback ride and had fallen asleep shortly after they escaped from the inferno that was North Corel. He didn't think that she really knew what was happening, or why they were walking through the Corel Mountains. Dyne had often complained about Marlene's sleeping habits or the lack thereof and he knew that she would soon be awake, hungry, and more importantly, curious. But he didn't have any answers to her questions, let alone food or any other supplies so he simply kept walking, his heart as numb as his missing hand.
Propositions – The Chapter That Never Was
Tifa Lockheart stood behind the bar of The Black Hole staring off into space. There was nobody else in the bar save for the chef, who seemed perfectly happy to leave the young waitress alone with her thoughts. Boris had told her about the Shinra soldiers that had been found behind the bar shortly after closing. Apparently Black had called him wondering if he had had anything to do with it.
"But why would he think it was you?"
"Black knows my history. He knows I got experience in that area."
"Experience in what area?"
He had laughed at her then, making Tifa's blood go cold. "You gotta be kidding me girl," he said, going into the kitchen.
She knew how the soldiers had gotten there of course. It had happened during her shift the night before, just after Boris had left. In fact, most would agree that she had started the brawl.
Tifa shook her head and looked up as the door to the bar opened and Jess poked her head in.
"Uh, you open?" she asked, standing half-in, half-out of the door.
Tifa immediately snapped herself into waitress mode. "Yeah, sure, have a seat. Can I get you anything?" she offered as the young rebel took a seat at the bar.
"I'll just have some water."
"Well you're quite the drinker." She smiled at Jess' shrug, "Don't worry about it, I don't drink much either."
"Now who's talking? You don't drink and you work in a bar!"
Tifa smiled and passed her a glass of water. "What brings you in so early? Biggs and Wedge too busy?"
"They're working," she said quickly, taking a sip of water. "Besides, I just figured I'd come by and see if you'd gotten in any trouble 'cause of last night."
"No, Black called Boris to see if he had anything to do with it, but apart from that I think he's perfectly happy to blame it on you guys. Black's bad-tempered, but he doesn't have any reason to suspect me of anything."
"That's good. I'm glad you didn't lose your job or anything."
There was an awkward silence as the conversation died. Tifa tapped her fingers idly on the bar, watching Jess out of the corner of her eye. She could tell that her smiles and jokes had comforted the sandy-haired girl; sometimes it was just easier to tell people what they wanted to hear. She treated Jess as she would any other customer, like an old buddy. They weren't though, and befriending a would-be rebel group wasn't high on her list of priorities.
When Black had given her the job he had left it up to the other waitresses to train her for it. All she'd gotten from her boss in terms of advice was a scrap of paper with the golden rule written on it, "Do unto others as you would have done unto you." It had confused her at first, but Angie had given her a translation; "Serve 'em with a smile if you wanna keep your job."
And so she did. When they wanted a drink, she poured them one, when they wanted to talk off their problems, she listened, and if they wanted her to tell them that everything was fine and peachy, she'd give them a whole basket of peaches.
But now her smiles had run out and Jess was sitting in sullen silence holding her water glass and looking about the room. The quiet was overwhelming and Tifa found herself wishing another customer would walk in. Whoever had said that silence was golden had never been in her situation.
Jess sighed and lifted the glass to her lips. Setting it back down she cast a quick glance around the bar. "Don't suppose this place is hiring, huh?" she asked jokingly.
Tifa snapped herself back to reality and gave the obligatory chuckle. "No. But then, would you really want to work in a place that stashes bodies underneath its' deck?"
Jess laughed and fished an ice cube out of the glass with her fingers then popped it in her mouth and began crunching it. Tifa leaned on the bar and waited for her to finish as she waved her hand to motion that she wanted to say something. Part of Tifa was impressed; most people would just barge ahead without waiting to swallow whatever was in their mouth first, but the rest of her was still wishing someone else would come in. Or even better, that Jess would simply give up on talking, finish her water and ice cubes, and leave.
But Jess did not leave, nor did she finish her water. Instead she polished off her ice cube and looked straight at Tifa. She scrunched up her face a little as if she was scrutinizing her, then quickly looked down at her glass as if to make sure all the ice cubes were still there. Finally, she made eye contact with the young waitress and asked the question Tifa had been dreading since the moment she had poked her head in the door.
"Why'd you do it?"
Tifa took a deep breath to buy herself some time, but she knew it was pointless. Nobody would come in at this time of day, and she knew she couldn't count on Boris to come out of the kitchen asking for help; Boris never let anyone into his filthy kitchen. There was nothing else to do but answer the damn question. So Tifa took another deep breath and tried to make the right words come.
"I don't know," she said slowly, cursing herself for not having a better explanation. She did know of course; her own motives weren't what troubled her about the fight. But that was another matter entirely, and she wasn't about to tell her what had happened at Nibelheim almost a year ago. She'd kept silent this long; she had no reason to say anything to this stranger whose life she had saved.
To her surprise though, Jess merely nodded and fished another ice cube out of the glass and popped it in her mouth.
"I didn't know either, first time I killed one of 'em. Biggs had gone into the Pharmacy to help Wedge pick out a good headache medicine, but I've never liked the feel of that place, so I waited outside," she said quietly, swirling the last ice cube around in her glass. "A couple troopers came by and started harassing me. By the time the guys came back out one of the three was already dead. Biggs and Wedge took care of the other two for me. They've always hated Shinra, but I never really cared much one way or the other. That day though, it was like something inside me snapped and opened a floodgate. I've been determined to fight them ever since."
Tifa looked at her, doing her best not to let her thoughts show on her face. She knew what Jess was driving at, but rebellion wasn't for her. Shinra had destroyed her life, she did not need them consuming her thoughts any more than they already did.
"I'm not you," she said softly, pushing the tempting thought of fighting Shinra away. "Just because something snapped doesn't mean it opened a floodgate."
Jess shrugged and polished off her water, crunching the last ice cube. "Suit yourself. The offer's open so long as I'm around." She took out a pen and scribbled a phone number on the napkin Tifa had given her. "Call me here if something else snaps."
She stood brusquely, took a few gil out of her pocket and dropped it on the bar near the napkin.
Suddenly Tifa felt like a little child who had angered one of her parents. "What will you do if I never call?" she asked hastily as Jess walked away.
Jess stopped with her hand on the doorknob and smiled to herself; she had her. "Wedge thinks that everybody has a floodgate and that it's just a matter of time before it opens. If you've built up a wall to try and keep yourself from fighting, we'll find someone else who hasn't."
With that she opened the door and left.
Disappointment – Time for Some Be-loving
"Zangan!" Yuffie screeched, running towards the martial artist at full speed.
Zangan gave a great, booming laugh as he picked the twelve year-old up and swung her around. Grunting, he put her back on the floor and rubbed his back. "You're starting to get too old for me to do that girl."
Yuffie laughed and then promptly kicked him in the shin. "You didn't tell me you were coming," she pouted.
"Oh, I thought I'd make it a surprise," he said rubbing his leg.
Yuffie thought about this for a moment until she deemed it a satisfactory answer, then she took his hand and led him down the hallway to her father.
"We heard rumors of fires over in Nibelheim… What happened to you Zangan?"
"That's a story for another day."
"Does that mean you've come back to stay, then?"
There was a pause before Zangan answered, and Yuffie pressed her ear up harder against the door.
"No. I can't stay in Wutai after what happened at Nibelheim. At least, not with such a strong Shinra presence in the city."
"Can't stay?… Shinra was behind whatever happened in Nibelheim then I should have guessed." Godo paused. "Yuffie will be heartbroken you know. When you left three years ago you promised you'd teach her to be a warrior when you returned."
Zangan sighed heavily. "I know."
Yuffie pulled away from the door and walked over to the window. Sitting down, she fixed her gaze on the gardens outside and watched as the wind blew through the leaves. She had no idea how long she had been sitting there when the door to her father's office opened and Zangan made his way over to her.
Seeing the tears that were slowly making their way to her chin, Zangan sighed and sat down on the floor next to her.
"You were eavesdropping," he said matter-of-factly.
Yuffie looked at him from out of the corner of her eye and sniffed, but other than that said nothing.
"Yuffie, I want you to listen very carefully to what I'm going to tell you, alright? When I was staying in a small village I got caught up in something that I'm sure Shinra is going to want to hide. I can't stay here and teach you to be a warrior but that doesn't mean that you can't be one anyway. You must ask your father to teach you to use materia and be a ninja."
"But I hate him! He's always complaining about the way things are instead of changing them. I bet he doesn't even remember how to fight he's spent so long taking everything Shinra gives him. He's always talking about what Wutai was like before the war, about how much he hates Shinra, but I hear him when he's in his big important meetings with them. He doesn't stand up for Wutai like he says he does, he just agrees to whatever they say. They want to bring more soldiers into the city to squash any resistance? Okay. They want to make some of their ugly politicians advisors to him? Be my guest. He can't teach me to be a warrior."
Zangan sighed. "Yuffie I know you think you know everything but some things aren't as clear as they seem. Your father is a strong warrior and he can teach you to be one as well."
"But you said you would teach me Zangan. Can't I go with you when you leave? You could train me on the road. We would be two great warriors on a journey, like in the stories."
"This is not a story Yuffie, and you can't come where I'm going. Besides, think what it would do to your father if I took his beloved daughter away."
"I'm not his 'beloved'. He's always bossing me around instead of 'beloving' me."
Zangan chuckled. "Are you sure you won't ask your father to train you?" The young girl nodded vigorously. He sighed, "Then come. I will introduce you to a man who can teach you to be a great ninja."
Yuffie jumped to her feet. "We're going now?"
"Do you want to be a warrior?"
"Uh huh."
"Then we're going now."
They walked quickly through the city streets, so quickly that Yuffie had trouble keeping track of where they were going. Shinra had removed the curfew only a few weeks ago so the situation at night was still very tense. There were more soldiers than usual on patrol due to heightened rebel activity after the removal of the curfew.
Zangan turned suddenly into a small alley and Yuffie realized that they were now in the section of town widely known to be home to several small rebel groups. She was just about to ask what they were doing there when Zangan, anticipating her question, motioned for her to be quiet and opened a side door.
Confused and slightly worried, Yuffie followed him in, doing her best to remain quiet. The building was as dark inside as it was outside, the only light given by a lantern in the far corner. There were doors on the left and right walls, though Yuffie immediately had varying feelings about entering either one.
Through the door on the right wall she could hear loud, boisterous voices. They seemed to be having a good time and the bright light shining through the door immediately quelled Yuffie's fears. The other door however, seemed dark and foreboding and it was this door that Zangan led her through.
They walked through the dark hallway and through the door on the opposite end. Yuffie was suddenly surprised to enter a room much brighter than the hallway and was relieved to see one of her father's warriors sitting in a chair reading a book of some sort. He did not react to the opening of the door but continued to read instead.
"Yuffie, have you ever met Vornin?" Zangan asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"Yes, once before. Is he going to train me to be a ninja?"
Vornin closed his book and walked over towards them. "Yes, I believe that is Zangan's intention. Stand straight Yuffie, let me have a better look at you."
Yuffie stood straight, and tried to make herself look bigger to impress him. Vornin chuckled quietly while nodding his head.
"I'm leaving tonight so I decided to bring her immediately," Zangan said, taking a seat.
He nodded his head again and brushed some of his black hair away from his face. He knelt down a bit until he was at eye-level with the twelve year-old girl. "Are you prepared to work?" She nodded vigorously. He sighed and rose to speak to Zangan.
"You've given me quite the challenge here Zangan. This girl is legendary throughout Wutai for her impatience. What have you gotten yourself into that this couldn't wait until morning?"
"More than you can imagine. Will you do it?"
"Oh I'll do it, but you'd better cover my ass with her father."
"It will all be arranged by morning."
Yuffie grinned and beamed up at Vornin. He would teach her to be a great warrior, better than her dad had ever been and she would restore the glory of Wutai.
Reflections – The Day That Passed
Reeve leaned back in his chair and glared at the paperwork that sat on his desk. It seemed to be daring him to keep working but at this point he just couldn't keep his eyes in focus. The day had been a stressful one all around at the company, and with all the crises happening throughout the day Reeve had barely managed to scratch the work he was supposed to be doing.
It had started normally enough; he had come in as usual for six o'clock, picked up his cup of coffee, and went up to his office to look through the progress reports on the Nibelheim Reconstruction project. He hadn't seen a single person for over half an hour until one of Heidiggar's lackeys had come in to call him to an emergency meeting. The meeting of course had proved a disaster, as was any meeting run by Heidiggar. Even more disastrous had been what was discussed as it was revealed that at least one other person had survived the horribly misnamed 'Nibelheim Accident'.
The president had ordered that they use an independent mercenary to eliminate her; he had gotten increasingly worried about the possible repercussions as the details of what happened slowly emerged. Reno, the only Turk present, had been upset of course. It seemed his ego was bruised every time the Turks were ordered to stand down. But with every mission the Turks carried out drawing more and more attention and speculation from rebel groups, the president's decision could hardly be questioned. However the compromise that if whoever they hired was successful he would be hired as a Turk wasn't much better.
Of course, the discovery of one or more survivors forced the president to push ahead the completion date for the Nibelheim cover-up. And that meant that he had even more work he had to get done sooner. He would have to figure out how Reno managed to get away with so much, maybe that would help with the insane deadlines the president of Shinra Inc. had set for him.
Reeve sat up and reached for the briefing from Hojo. He didn't even want to know how Hojo had managed to figure out about the missing Nibelheim survivor. He knew there was one or two being kept by him on the science floors but just seeing Gast's successor made him shiver; he didn't want to think of what was happening on the 67th floor or of what Hojo had at stake in the Nibelheim reactor.
Reeve couldn't been sure if Hojo's rant at Heidiggar had been the worst or the most amusing part of the meeting. In his quiet, raspy voice he had reprimanded Heidiggar for having his crew clean everything else before he could analyze it. If he had simply been allowed to take care of his business, and he was probably right, they would have known about any other survivors a year ago. Hojo could only be placated by Heidiggar informing him that Tseng and Reno were heading out to Cosmo Canyon later that morning to pick up the specimen he wanted.
Specimen. Their scientific terminology always made him shudder. A mako energy company had no business scientifically altering anybody. He could accept a powerful corporation virtually taking over control of a city, he could even accept the Wutai war, fought for control of the island's unexploited mako resources. The cancelled Space Program fascinated him, and of course he owed his job to Shinra's construction projects but nobody had a right to do any of the things Hojo and Gast had been doing. But in a company devoted to profit he could hardly afford to say a word.
Reeve groaned and began searching through the stack of papers for the travel schedule he had been handed at some point during the day. Arrangements had been made for the Highwind to continue west after taking the president to Corel so he could personally check the progress on Nibelheim's reconstruction. It would be the ship's first trip with its new pilot as Palmer had fired Cid Highwind in Rocket Town that afternoon. Reeve had flown a lot with the grisly pilot and had grown accustomed to his blunt banter. It would be strange flying on his ship without him.
Corel had been the second disaster of the day. After lunch, just when he was starting to get some work done, Scarlet had phoned in with a report on the situation in Corel. Shinra had received a tip-off from a man in town who knew about a small group planning to sabotage the reactor the next day. Scarlet flew down that night to set up a squad of soldiers to take care of the situation but in dealing with the rebels that day things had gotten progressively worse. At some point a fire had been started and had spread to the town. By that point some civilians began rising up and the soldiers started having a free for all. As of her report at two o'clock that afternoon she still had not made a casualty report.
Reeve had known it was a mistake to send Scarlet down to Corel instead of the Turks. She had too much of a thirst for blood and a love for using her new weapons. The catastrophic events at North Corel that afternoon had only confirmed his fears. Now he had to wait and see what kind of reconstruction project the president would hand for him to do.
Rebuilding both Nibelheim and Corel would again push back his Air Purification Project for the slums. With all the budget cuts, and the president pushing the date back again and again he was beginning to lose hope that it would ever get done.
Reeve shoved the papers aside and shut off his computer. He couldn't work right now. He was sure his stress level had sky rocketed in the last twenty-four hours and there was no way he was going to be able to get anything done. Reaching down into the bottom right drawer of his desk he pulled out a personal keycard labeled "CS - Gast" and walked over to the locked cabinet over by the wall. Sliding it in he punched in the password and took out the control system.
He had found the robotic cat and moogle when Hojo had finally completely cleared out Gast's office a few months ago. He was on the verge of trashing it when Reeve had walked by and decided to take it down to his office. He had been toying with the cat, apparently dubbed 'Cait Sith', off and on since then. It had taken him at least a week to override its control system so he could figure out what it was for. Then he had begun the task of exploring all of its functions and operations. It seemed Gast had meant for it to be used as a toy that could function either in an automated mode or be controlled manually by means of a complex joystick.
Turning on the power he walked back over to his desk with the joystick. Recently he had been exploring Cait's motor capabilities and tweaking it a bit to increase his range of possible speeds to more accurately reflect those of a human. Gast had programmed the toy with its' own personality but in terms of its technical capabilities he had left lots of room for improvement. One of his favorite things to do now was to tweak with Gast's invention and increase its automated capabilities. Maybe one day Cait Sith would become so efficient he could fire his secretary.
Reeve led Cait Sith out of the cabinet and smiled as it offered to read his fortune. Right now he was more afraid of what the future would bring than ever.