Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII. I depend on my daughter, xXxValentinexXx, for all my information on the subject.
A/N—Yes, I'm her mother. Our dear friend, Bjanik, began this happy journey. When she refused to write a sequel to One Stroke, I was as unhappy as many of you. I wanted to know what happened next to Sephiroth and crew, especially Tessa. Bjanik claimed that the baby was a plot device. Bjanik, never having had children, could believe that, but I'm a mother and I can imagine many possibilities, especially for the next nine months of the story. When I suggested to Bjanik that I might take up the story, if she didn't mind, she said, "Go for it!" So, we begin with a "Prologue" which overlaps Bjanik's "Epilogue." If you recall from One Stroke, Sephiroth, Tseng and Vincent were in Tseng's office. Tseng had just returned Masamune to Sephiroth, and the elder Shinra had made Sephiroth an outrageous offer. Going for it!
Prologue
Sephiroth was suddenly reminded of why he had come to see Tseng in the first place. He couldn't speak freely; even the Turk commander's office had listening devices tied to the company's mainframe. Everything was recorded. Not much of it was reviewed, but you couldn't be sure. Sephiroth cast his mind back to the day when he had asked Tseng how he would know when the moment had come for them to act.
"I have… been asked to do something which I cannot."
Tseng smiled, actually smiled. "It's time," he said.
"Are you free for lunch? You pick the restaurant."
"Meet me out front in, oh say, an hour?" Tseng suggested with a glance at the clock on his computer. "I've a few things to 'tidy up' around here."
"Done. I'll be waiting for you. I'm going to whack some stuff with Masamune." Sephiroth put a hand to the door handle, then gave his father a last glance.
Amusement sounded in Vincent's mental voice, According to plan, Tseng is inviting a few associates. You'll need to invite Zack as I recall.
Yes. Are you staying with Tseng? I really do want to test Masamune before I might have to use it this afternoon.
I'll stay with Tseng, but I have preparations to make also. I feel the need for additional small arms for the festivities.
Excellent. A slight smile tweaked a corner of Sephiroth's mouth. See you shortly.
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Sephiroth held Masamune in a two-handed grip testing the balance of his old friend reconnecting with the consciousness he always felt there. He had removed his battle coat and placed his hands in fingerless gloves in preparation for the exercise. Sephiroth stood in the middle of the large oval training room with its four story walls, surrounded by straw "men" targets, and gathered his concentration. Something about the sword felt lighter to Sephiroth's touch, as if the sword were about to fly away and only he were holding it to the planet. Well maybe that was a bit exaggerated, but it did feel lighter.
Zack stood to the side watching with narrowed eyes as Sephiroth was about to begin his version of one of the Wutainese sword forms. The form's set fight pattern normally was performed with a regular four-foot long blade; however, Sephiroth's Masamune was half again as long, and the form therefore required a few "modifications." Basically these entailed angling strokes that normally would have been performed straight up or down. Catching your sword on the ground was typically considered to be bad form. Zack, being more of a brute-force type of swordsman, always appreciated the sheer artistry that Sephiroth was about to display. Seph had run through the form twice as a warm-up and now had moved into the center of the strawmen for the "real thing."
Inhaling deeply Sephiroth stepped back with his left foot holding the sword point angled backward over his left shoulder in his left hand, the right hand held palm out in front of him in an "alive" position, and then stepped forward with his left foot, proceeded to his first cut, a downward slice to the right cutting at an angle through the "right collar bone" of the strawman. Pull back. Next, a clockwise rotation of his hand turning the sword's sharp edge to cut up and to Sephiroth's left through the strawman's right knee.
A slide to the left to his second straw man and a counterclockwise lift of his hand and pull back of his elbow positioned Masamune above the "left collar bone" for a left downward angled cut. Next a counterclockwise rotation and he sliced upward through the strawman's left knee.
Now a left slide to his third target with a downward cut through the top of the strawman's head, a repositioning with his elbow straight back then a stab into the strawman's abdomen. Pull back with the elbow, push kick the body off the sword.
Half done—very clean cuts—so far so good. Slide left to the fourth target and now the reverse "Z" move performed going down to one knee on the last cut: a cut from right to left through the strawman's neck, a slice down and right diagonally across the body, a second cut right to left through the strawman's knees. Stand up with a counterclockwise twist of the wrist to begin the next stroke.
Slide left to the fifth target. Continue slice diagonally right upward across strawman's body, pulling the blade back through, and then rotating back over his own left shoulder.
Slide left to final target. A quick rotation of the wrist forward ("watik" as Zack recalled) then cut diagonally down through the body. Finally pull the sword back and body stab to the abdomen. Pull back on the sword, raise a knee, and push kick the strawman off the end.
Zack smiled. It had been a beautiful performance, so blindingly fast few people could have seen it, much less appreciated it, but now there was straw everywhere. He raised his PHS to summon some cadets who needed some minor disciplining to clean up the mess, then approached his commander.
"So… How did it feel?" Zack said, "after all, testing the feel of the blade was the point of this exercise."
"I know it sounds a bit strange, but Masamune feels a bit lighter. It actually slid more easily through the targets."
"Well, that's good. No embrittlement?" He bent to look at the edges of one of the partially standing strawmen. Extending a finger he felt the points on some of the straw edges. "Ouch." Zack pulled his now bleeding finger back and stuck it in his mouth.
"None that I could detect. Completely solid. Smooth through the straw."
"Good. Then how about that lunch you mentioned?"
"Fine. Let's get cleaned up, then we're meeting some people outside."
"We are? Who? You didn't mention anyone else." Zack was a bit surprised as they turned to leave the training floor in the direction of the changing rooms and showers. Typically if anyone joined them, it was Tessa. Although lately with her protesting stomach, it had been just Zack and Seph for lunch. Tessa couldn't even stand to smell food before mid-afternoon.
"Tseng and my father."
Zack stopped short and felt his mouth fall open. "What?!" He'd never been invited to one of the Sephiroth/Tseng lunches before.
Sephiroth smiled slightly, "You'll see."
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Upon Sephiroth's and Vincent's departures, Tseng had summoned Reno and Rude into his office. He knew he was playing with fire here, and he wanted his most trustworthy Turks to back him up in addition to the father and son.
"Yo, bossman, you called?" Reno raised his eyebrows entering the office. Tseng thought, "Why did it have to be Reno who was most trustworthy? Trustworthy to get the job done, I suppose."
"I want you to go up to the waiting room outside the president's office and invite Rufus Shinra to go to lunch. Then escort him outside the building."
"Hunh?" Reno's mouth was on the verge of a dozen questions, when Rude stepped on his foot.
"Yes, sir." Rude said, pinching the fabric of Reno's jacket arm with his right forefinger and thumb (the new left appendage was still a bit unreliable for such maneuvers, might rip the fabric) and backing them out of Tseng's office.
Outside Reno gave his partner a hard look, "Why'd you do that?"
Rude raised an eyebrow at him then turned his head to stare hard at Derek, Tseng's secretary. Derek returned Rude's stare with a slight nod. Reno caught the looks, "Oh ho… Well then, we'd better not keep the man waiting."
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Rufus Shinra sat at a table in a windowless back room of the Peanut Barrel, far across Midgar from Shinra, considering the men across the round table from him certainly not seeing the beer posters on the walls about him. Tseng and Sephiroth sat to Rufus' left and right, two Turks flanking Tseng, Zack Fair standing at Sephiroth's right, and a stranger clad in black leather he'd glimpsed recently around the office leaned against the wall near the door. "Has to be a Turk, even without the blue suit." Rufus thought.
Tseng had just laid out a plan that would effectively hand control of Shinra over to Rufus, but which would give the two commanders "input" into decision making. With the muscle behind them, Rufus knew Tseng and Sephiroth would have effective final say over any policy directions in the company. In return for his cooperation, Turk and Soldier would rid him of the current president, his father, Londo Shinra. Rufus didn't have to think twice about his acceptance, but he wanted clarification on a few important points first. He held his face blank. He knew they'd just made him an offer he couldn't refuse. If he said "no," he'd probably be thrown head first off the plate—or by some other disposal method, both quick and quiet.
"Gentlemen, if you please… As the new president of Shinra, I would, of course, add the two of you, and your departments, to the Executive level. Presumably, General, your wife would retain her Executive post as the head of the Scientific Department. What would you suggest for the other Executives, Reeve, Heidegger, Scarlet, and Palmer? Not that I really care, mind you, but all four, with the possible exception of Reeve, have dirt on Shinra. What do you suggest for them?"
Tseng smiled slightly. He knew which closets held skeletons probably better than Rufus did. "Suffice it to say, Heidegger, Scarlet, and Palmer should all be offered 'early retirement,' with full retirement compensation, of course. If they don't like their 'compensation packages,' they will be dealt with. Tuesti, however, has been a valuable asset to the corporation and should stay." Tseng raised his chin a bit. He decided to let out a skeleton, "With the death of your half-brother, Lazard, last year, and the potential demise of your father later today, there certainly is no reason to keep Lazard's half-sister, Scarlet, around, now is there?"
Rufus' mouth fell open. Tseng smiled slightly. He'd rather thought Rufus hadn't known of Lazard's and Scarlet's connections to the Shinra family. Now Rufus had another reason to get rid of Londo, as if he really needed one.
Rufus stared hard at the men across the room from him, judging them again. Most didn't react to the news at all, though that Turk, Reno, looked thoughtful—Rufus hadn't thought that Reno could look thoughtful.
"With the exception of the Turks," Tseng continued, and Rufus nodded his head acknowledging the "exception," "Heiddeger's public security department has been largely ineffective for years. I will take control of all 'intelligence' functions. Palmer's space division has made no advances in its objectives, and its resources should be redirected to energy development under Tuesti." With a look at Sephiroth, Tseng said, "Weapons development will be transferred to the Scientific Department, so as to control both initial concept and ultimate deployment." Sephiroth nodded his acceptance. He hated to add more work to his wife's schedule, but it was a logical development. They would need to look for a loyal second to oversee certain parts of weapons development. He had already been considering Cho or Malik for the position.
Rufus leaned forward, placing his joined hands on the table, looking over all the men across from him and smiled. It could work. The fact that he really didn't have a choice in the matter didn't faze him. Strange bedfellows could be changed at future dates. Any of the others could have a falling out. Anything was possible… Time would tell. "And I would have daily control over operations, without interference from you?"
Tseng nodded. "We honestly don't want operational control. We just want to continue doing our jobs and for the company to develop additional, more sustainable, energy sources. We liked where you were taking Shinra. The stockholders won't really mind. After all, Shinra is the only game in town, so to speak."
"Well, gentlemen," Rufus Shinra said standing up. Tseng and Sephiroth glanced at each other and quickly moved to their feet. "Gentlemen." He repeated. "I agree to your terms…" Rufus smiled slightly. "Now shall we have lunch? My treat." Rufus watched closely judging his new allies. He rather liked what he saw. "By the way, how do you plan to do away with my father?"
Sephiroth's lips pulled back at the corners, and he spoke for the first time, "Leave that to me."
Rufus started. Sephiroth was newly married and about to become a father. Marriage certainly didn't seem to have softened the man. Perhaps Tessa Romera was a saint.
From a vent high in a wall above all their heads near the ceiling, a small gray cat with white gloves, red cape, and a crown watched from well back in the crawl space and listened intently to the conversation. Back at Shinra headquarters, Reeve Tuesti chuckled pulling an out an earpiece and rubbing his ear. It seemed he was going to like what was about to take place. There would have to be an executives meeting where the others learned of their "retirements." He'd better practice his "shocked" expression.
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Three groups converged separately on Londo Shinra's office. Not wanting to look like a small army, Tseng and his Turks, Sephiroth and Zack, and Rufus with Vincent close behind, had left the restaurant separately and had arrived that way at their destination. Vincent had trailed behind sniffing for evidence of opposition. He had detected none.
Rufus leaned over his former-secretary's desk. "Vera, is he alone?" he asked. She nodded her short, brown-haired head.
"Well! Why don't you let us in?" Rufus held her gaze, and Vera paused for a second, her glance flicking over the menacing group behind Rufus, then nodded again pushing a button under her desk that opened the door with a buzz.
"What's going on here? I didn't summon you! Any of you!" Londo Shinra stood up, a ceiling light glinting off his bald head, looking outraged at the entrance of his son into his office. He paled visibly as the crowd in his office grew larger—larger, and more weapon oriented. Rufus stood across the desk from him in front, flanked by Sephiroth with his huge sword on the right and Tseng on the left, Turks and a first-class Soldier behind them (all glowering and being menacing, he noted absently), and a black-leather-clad man with very long wavy black hair leaned against the door. He was holding a pistol in one hand tapping it against the palm of a metal glove on his other hand. Unsubtle.
"Dad," Rufus stated. Londo's eyebrows went down in anger. Rufus was never allowed to call him "Dad." "Father" was the only acceptable form of address he allowed his son.
"Da-ad," Rufus started again—this time with two syllables. "General Sephiroth would like a word with you, I believe. General?" Rufus stepped back. Sephiroth stepped around the side of the desk, Masamune held before him. Londo turned to face him. Sephiroth noted old Shinra's face was pink with rage and beady with sweat. He could almost feel sorry for the man. Almost.
"President Shinra, I believe I am going to refuse your offer of this morning. No child of mine will be raised in a tube, or given 'growth accelerant to get them online quicker,' and Tessa Romera will be the only woman to bear my children. That's my final word on the subject," and with that Sephiroth swung Masamune upward in one stroke, cleaving Shinra in two. This time, Sephiroth noted, there were no white ceiling flecks to float downward. The ceiling was too high.
"So, that's what precipitated this." Tseng noted. He hadn't stopped to consider what Sephiroth had been asked to do that he couldn't. Tseng had simply accepted that something had happened to trigger his friend's desire for a regime change.
"Well, I guess that takes care of that." Rufus Shinra looked a bit shaken, and he started to laugh, a bit hysterically.
"Mr. President." Tseng turned to Rufus. "I suggest you take the rest of the afternoon off. Perhaps give some thought to funeral arrangements." Tseng turned to his Turks, "Reno, Rude, I'll leave it to you to clean up the mess. I'm sure you know where the morgue is." With that he exchanged a look with Sephiroth and turned to leave. Sephiroth moved away from the desk heading to the door.
"Zack, you're with me. I believe we have group drill in fifteen minutes…"
"Yes, sir." Zack, holding his face expressionless, fell in behind his commander and left.
And what are you going to do? Sephiroth sent to his father from outside the room. Sephiroth could sense that Vincent had barely budged from his post near the president's door.
For the moment I plan to play bodyguard to Rufus. He looks like he could use some 'company.'
Good. See you for dinner?
Let's play it by ear. Sephiroth felt his father's mental shrug. I rather expect that Rufus is going to be roaring drunk soon. At some point I'll put him to bed.
Done. I'm going down to the labs for a minute to tell Tessa in person before drill. I expect Tseng has already composed a message in Rufus' name announcing Londo's demise for broadcast over the Shinra networks and internet. Possibly 'heart failure.'
Yes, I suppose so… So how do you feel now?
Hm… After I ridded my life of Hojo, I felt like a child let out of school. Now I just feel satisfied. Tessa is safe, and she didn't even know she was in danger.
Yes. Protect with her with everything you have, my son. Don't repeat my mistakes. You're a lucky man. Vincent felt a mental smile and fierce determination from his son—and his agreement.
Yes. I know. As I said before, my childhood was god-awful, but I wouldn't trade it for what I have now for anything. Much less for any offer from Londo Shinra! Later...
Indeed. Later.
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"Great. Just great. Here we are again. Left with the stiff," Reno glared at the door leading out of the Shinra presidential office.
"At least we don't have to hose down the place this time. They'll probably have to rip out the carpet though," Rude responded. He pulled out his PHS and asked for a body bag to be brought up from the morgue. Tessa's lab had turned all Hojo's old body bags over to that department. The two passed the time waiting for the bag by doing what Turks were supposed to do, investigate the stuff lying in, around, and on Shinra's desk.
"Hm… Turks are just too damn nosy. Yes, and I am happy to be a nosy Turk." Reno thought as he looked at the papers on the presidential desk while keeping his shiny shoes out of the bloody mess on the floor. Seemed Rufus Shinra wasn't the only one planning on reorganizing the company. Londo Shinra had been hand-drawing an org chart with only three departments: Heiddeger (security), Scarlet (research and development), and Palmer (earth and space). It looked like Tessa's department had just avoided being merged with Scarlet's department and Tuesti's with Palmer's. Better let Tseng know what old Londo had been planning. Scarlet might have been behind it—might even be trouble in the future. Palmer just didn't seem the type. The door buzzed, and two white-coated morgue attendants with a body bag lying atop a stretcher appeared outside.
Rude took hold of the bag then closed the door in the attendants' faces. Reno turned around to take a last look at Londo Shinra, once the most powerful man on Gaia, lying on the floor behind him then pushed the executive armchair out of the way to make room. Unfurling the bag like a sheet, the Turks laid the bag alongside the pieces of Shinra and widened their feet to keep their dress shoes out of the blood.
"Careful there," Reno said, "don't stick your fingers in the brains."
Rude glared at the red-head. Together they lifted the left half of the body and set it in the bag. Leaning over again they lifted the right half when something fell out of the back of Shinra's coat and hung dangling in mid-air.
"Hello, what have we here?" Reno reached out and delicately pulled what looked like a button attached to a white wire from the fabric. Reno looked at his partner with a half smirk. "What'd ya think?"
Rude, seeing what Reno was holding, raised an eyebrow at his partner. He flipped open his PHS and pushed Tseng's speed dial code.
"Tseng here."
"Code 7. POS."
Slight pause, "acknowledged. Peanut Barrel. One hour."
At that minute Tseng was locking down the "presidential office suite" with Turks at every entrance to the place, stopping and searching everyone in and out of the complex, and bringing in more Turks to turn the suite upside down looking for anything and everything. Shortly the door to the suite buzzed and two more Turks appeared outside.
"Stay here. No one gets near the body. Understood?" Rude gave their replacements his best intimidating dagger glare.
"Yes, Sir!" both snapped their heels and nodded their heads.
"Nothing like peanuts for a late afternoon snack!" Reno and Rude half ran to the elevator and their appointment.
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"All right. Let's have it. What's going on that I had to lock down Shinra?"
Back in the private back room of the restaurant they'd left less than two hours before, Reno opened his palm under Tseng's nose.
Eyebrows arching upward, Tseng paused, "My, my. Would you look at that! And you found this where?"
"It fell off Londo Shinra's body when we lifted him off the floor."
"Well, well. Shinra was wearing a wire. Now who do you think was spying on whom here? Londo Shinra was spying on his own company?!... Please tell me you left two Turks in charge of the body."
"Rude locked the place down as soon as he saw this. Landers and Gonzales arrived, and we ran the morgue guys off. I doubt they knew what they were seeing, though they might get suspicious with the appearance of so many Turks."
"Good move. All right. First, I'll meet our people to continue the examination of the body. Second, have two of our people keep an eye on the attendants. Third, this clearly isn't a standard, Shinra-produced listening device. Someone, outside of Shinra, has gotten to the old man. I'll go over the surveillance records on him since he's been gone, especially the last three months. He's been down at some commune near Mideel, as I recall. We looked at the place when he first went down there, but Reno, you make arrangements for you and Rude to head down there and get me an update. Rude, for now, you go over his apartment. Fourth, I'll have to talk to Sephiroth and let him know why there's a lock down… Someone's watching us… I knew Rufus couldn't just give the order, and I'd have control of all of Shinra's security apparatus. But I didn't expect interference from inside…"
"Yo, boss man. There was one more thing. On old Shinra's desk. He was revising the corporate org chart just before… the coup. His re-org had only three departments: Heiddeger (security), Scarlet (research and development), and Palmer (earth and space). Looks like you interrupted his plans… and maybe someone else's as well?"
"You're implying Londo Shinra may have been spying on Shinra for someone else… maybe even running it for someone else… and it makes sense. Now I have an even bigger reason to talk to Soldier."
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Across Midgar in an old warehouse on the lower plate a young man with chin-length brown hair and mako-bright eyes lowered his PHS from his ear, flipping it closed with an irritated snap. He flipped the hair back from his face with a graceful gesture.
"Yes. You had better be careful, Sephiroth… Apparently not even Londo Shinra could order you to part with Jenova cells… Well then, I'll just have to acquire this new source." The man looked at a second man in a white lab coat possessively. "For now, however, we'll have to get out of Midgar, before Shinra locks the city down completely. My friend, we're due in Wutai. After that, Plan B can be put into operation."