Chapter 2
The next morning found them sitting on a massive army transport, flying to Wutai. Sephiroth half-expected Yanna to try and talk to him but she might as well have been invisible. At first, she tried to read but it was simply too early for civilians and she fell asleep quickly. At least she didn't snore.
"ETA ten minutes, sir."
Sephiroth opened his eyes, acknowledging the pilot, then turned to Yanna. The woman had fallen against him at some point, her face smooth and peaceful. Painful images of a different face, another shaman woman screaming in agony, lurching as Jenova fought to stay in its host flashed through his mind. He shook his head sharply.
"Shiushan." He nudged her and she jerked awake. Dark eyes blinked owlishly at him.
"We're almost there," he said.
"Oh." She stretched, careful of the seatbelts. "Did I sleep the whole way?"
"Almost."
"Oh. Sorry." Reaching under seat, she checked to make sure her bag was still there then the transport shuddered. She gasped, gripped the seat.
"Landing can be a little rough," he said. Her lips tight, Yanna winced at the lurching groans of the transport as it gradually dropped out of the sky.
The general turned away. Civilians.
Suddenly the alarms blared and the transport banked sharply.
"Captain!" he called.
"We're under attack, sir!"
Sephiroth unclipped his belt and ran up to the cockpit. Laser fire and bullets criss-crossed the sky over the base. Thick black smoke floated up from the trees outside to match the roaring flames within the walls.
"Hail them."
"I'm trying, sir. No answer."
He hissed through his teeth and slapped the button for the bay doors.
"Circle around," he said. "Find a safe place to land and wait for my order."
"Yes, sir."
Grabbing Masamune, the general ran to the lowering ramps in the back of the transport.
"General, what's going on?" Yanna yelled over the wind.
"Stay with the transport," he said. "We've flown into a skirmish."
She paled but nodded and he jumped, managing to cut down the nearest gunman before he even hit the ground. His lip curled at the uniform. People's Army. Rebels.
Gritting his teeth, Sephiroth leapt into the fray. Soldiers reeking of blood and alcohol rallied around him, snapping to his order as he deflected bullets and energy bolts alike. Other soldiers lay on the ground, some half dressed from a night of celebration.
Fire burned tight and hot in his chest as word of his presence spread through the enemy. Let them come.
Masamune was thirsty.
?
"We got the orders yesterday." The commander of the base, a haggard man named Colonel Blaik, stood as straight as he could as he reported. "I announced it at dinner and the night just went from there. We never even heard them coming."
Sephiroth nodded and wiped some blood off his cheek.
"Secure the perimeter," he said. "All available men to help with evac. The transport will be here in a few minutes."
"Yes, sir. General…"
He leveled a look at the older man.
"You did what you could. I'll want a written report later."
"Sir." Blaik hurried off to organize the men and Sephiroth went to the communications building. Men scurried back and forth around him, some breaking down the base, others rushing to help the wounded. Yanna was on her knees, elbow deep in blood as she tended a soldier's leg. She called for one of the medics with the sharp, clipped voice of one used to obedience.
Of course. She was a healing shaman. If nothing else, she would know basic field medicine.
The nurses and coremen only acted surprised for a minute, a slight pause when they came to take away the solider, then the shaman ran to the next body.
"Sir!" A young third hurried up and saluted. "HQ online, sir."
Sephiroth turned away. He wasn't needed here.
?
His report was brief, terse, and, within a couple hours, the soldiers were ready for evacuation. Their quick reactions did nothing to quell the nausea but he didn't have time to feel guilt.
"You."
A passing soldier snapped to attention.
"The woman from the transport. Where is she?"
"She's…I think she's in the infirmary, sir."
"Thank you." Sephiroth stalked off to the infirmary, his fists clenching. He knew he shouldn't have brought a civilian. He should have prepared for something like this. Why would the People's Army let them go so easily? Stupid rebels. They couldn't be satisfied with the fact that Shinra was leaving them alone. No, now they had to wreak vengeance on soldiers during what had officially become peace time.
Bastards.
"General Sephiroth." A thin, half-Wutaian man with an efficient manner and a calming smile approached as he entered the infirmary.
"Dr. Hanata. Situation?"
"In hand. The major surgeries are done, everyone's stable. As soon as Ms. Yanna is done with the bodies, we'll start loading."
"Excuse me?"
That smile crossed Hanata's face and he led him to the morgue, stopping just outside the doors. Inside, Yanna moved methodically around the body of one of the fallen, her hands gentle but firm as she bathed him. After a moment, she set down the sprayer and pawed at a wound on the boy's shoulder. Sephiroth narrowed his eyes. The wound was…closing…
"She's been at this since we moved the boys into surgery," Hanata said. "She didn't want to get in the way so she asked if she could clean them."
Yanna picked up a towel and started patting the body dry. Her lips moved as she did so, a prayer perhaps.
"I don't know how," Hanata said, walking around the corner. "But she's…fixing them." He lifted the sheet off a gurney to reveal the pallid face of a boy no older than Zack. "This one was missing an eye when he came in. It's still missing, of course, but there was a gash across his face. You could see straight through to his cheekbone."
Not anymore.
Sephiroth took a deep breath, regretted it, and nodded.
"Make sure she gets on the transport safely," he said.
"Yes, Gen—"
A nurse slid around the corner.
"Sir! The rebels are back!"
"What?!" He was already hurrying out the door with Masamune. Outside, he could hear someone on a bull horn yelling from beyond the gate.
"Great General Sephiroth," the man yelled. "Come out with your hands up!"
"Clever," Hinata muttered.
"It's your choice, General. Either you come out or we come in."
"Evacuate them," Sephiroth snapped. "Now!"
Soldiers scrambled to obey as he approached the gate. At his nod, the doors opened and he saw the caravan of trucks and jeeps lined up outside, filled with men wielding automatic rifles. In the front truck, a thick man stood with the bullhorn.
"What'll it be, General?" he asked.
"You honestly think I'll come with you, after you butchered my men."
"Actually, yeah." The man snapped his fingers and the cover fell off one of the jeeps to reveal a whirring anti-aircraft gun slowly spinning to face the base.
"You come with us," the man said. "Or you watch us blast your soldiers out of the sky."
Sephiroth narrowed his eyes, seething. Really. This insignificant piece of—
"And we'll take her too."
He whirled to see Yanna just past the gate.
"She has nothing to do with this," Sephiroth said tightly. "She doesn't even work for Shinra."
Not a lie. Technically, she was just a consultant.
But Bullhorn just smirked and snapped his fingers. Four men jumped out of a truck and approached, guns leveled at his chest. Behind them, other men started feeding rounds into the anti-aircraft gun.
"Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "I'll come with you."
Bullhorn said something in Wutaian and the men swarmed him. Other men hurried to Yanna, making the soldiers cluster around her.
"Stand down!"
The soldiers paused, confused, but Yanna touched the arm of the closest and walked to Sephiroth. One of the rebels grabbed her arm and suddenly the fool was screaming and writhing on the ground.
"Don't touch her." He raised his gaze to see Blaik, one of the men who had rushed to Yanna. "Get them home."
"Sir."
His stomach tightening, Sephiroth gripped her arm and walked to the truck with Bullhorn. The Wutaian man leered at Yanna, earning a swift glare from Sephiroth, and they started driving. The general listened for long, torturous moments, straining for the sound of engines failing, bulkheads snapping under the pressure of exploding tanks.
It never came.
He closed his eyes briefly in relief then turned. Yanna sat next to him, staring straight ahead.
"It was them," she muttered. "They killed them."
"Yes. There were more than I thought."
When Yanna looked at him, her eyes were hard and her hand clasped his forearm with a strength he didn't expect.
"Stay with me," he said. "Do you understand?"
She nodded and turned back to look out the windshield. He could smell fear on her, a faint mix of sweat and death, and her heart beat loudly in her chest. Despite that, she breathed evenly and the hand on his arm trembled with finely controlled energy.
He covered her hand with his own.