I'm getting right into the meat of the story, not much background info. Vinny will tell you about it all when he's ready. ;)

On my first day as a recruit, the commander asked us all individually why we wanted to join. There were only ten of us, being as how the Turks were picky even for base recruits, and very few people wanted to do the work that was typical of the organization. I was last in the lineup, and in the time it took for him to reach me I had come up with what to say.

He stood in front of me and smirked. "Will you glorify your reasons like the rest did?"

I looked him in the eye as no one had yet to do. "I have several reasons, sir." I had expected to need to bark out my words like in the army and SOLDIER, but the commander had claimed it to be annoying and unnecessary. "I wish to become someone that my father would have been proud of, and my mother can rely on. I wish to end the suffering I have seen throughout the plates, especially in the slums. I wish to earn respect and fear from those that would once throw me in the dirt. I wish to no longer be looked down on and I wish to be a respectable person in my own eyes." I heard muttering from the other Turks waiting to begin our training. "That is why I will become a Turk."

The commander stared at me for a moment, seeming to size me up.

I remember that he had been an avid protester to prostitution rings.

"If being a Turk makes you more respectable than what you were before, I sincerely hope you make it to the top someday, Valentine." With that, he left us to our new mentors, who would train us for the next three years.

His name was Brendon Falcon. He was the picture of the perfect Turk, with his pressed black suit and close-cropped blonde hair.

He spoke with me on numerous occasions, whether in his office discussing my recent performance, or in the training rooms discussing my form. One day I received notice that I would be promoted to full Turk standard. I hadn't been so proud of myself in my life.

As it was I was the best recruit among us, and was the only to be promoted so far. I never accepted how much better I was, but it was obvious in later speculation. Trust me; I had plenty of time to think about it.

To be promoted, I had to complete a mission. It seems simple enough, but none of us had yet to go into action, so it was a big deal. Commander Falcon called me into his office the day before the mission.

As I sat in the chair across from his desk, he shuffled around piles of paperwork. "Shinra is always riding me about all this useless junk," he had muttered quietly. His bright green eyes glanced around the desk for somewhere to move the stacks to. He had always hated paperwork.

I smirked slightly as I hurriedly tied my hair back. It was shoulder length, and it had become an annoyance when it hung in my face. "Sir, you wished to speak with me?"

Commander Falcon looked up from his shuffling, as if he had noticed me for the first time. "Oh, yes. I wanted to brief you on the mission tomorrow." He eventually set everything in a pile on the floor, sighing as he looked at a paper with the official Shinra stamp on it. "You will accompany me on a highly dangerous, completely unnecessary assignment. We will break into a terrorist base, and destroy it by means that Shinra has ordered." I stared at him in confusion. "Lots of bombs and shooting and running in circles like chickens with our heads cut off. Seems simple, but we're taking out the biggest terrorist association around. Have you ever heard of AVALANCHE?"

I nodded slowly. "A group that believes Shinra Inc. is draining the Planet. Their members excel at all forms of offence, defense, and tactical maneuvers, but only because each member is highly specialized. The main advantage that they have is a large base, many members, and a close bond with each other."

"Absolutely correct," he stated with a grin. "That is who we have to take out. I have confidence in your abilities, but death is a clear possibility. I would not blame you if you told me you were scared, Valentine. I would expect it from anyone still human. So, are you sure you want to take the promotion now? You can always wait for a safer mission."

I shook my head, knowing that no matter what, Mother would still receive money. "If I become a Turk, my pay will spike enough that my mother will live comfortably for a long while. If I die trying, she will receive all of the insurance money, and still live comfortably." I resisted the urge to look away. After all, I was a Turk. Showing that you were uncomfortable was against the law or something. "It's a win-win situation."

Falcon stood and moved around the desk, carefully stepping over the paperwork on the floor. He stopped inches in front of me, just staring. His eyes were completely blank, even to someone like me who was almost an expert on reading eyes.

So fast that I didn't have time to comprehend it, he grabbed my collar and dragged me up, holding me a few inches from the ground. I didn't struggle, because it would be useless. Besides, I must have deserved it for something. He tossed me roughly into the bookcase, scowling as I remained limp and obeying.

"Why won't you fight back? Do you really not care what happens to you?" He crouched next to me and pulled several books from where they had fallen on top of me. "If you have no drive to live, you can't be successful in our line of work." I still said nothing as he poked a bruise on my cheek that was just forming. "I still find it odd that a Turk bruises so easily," he muttered.

I looked him squarely in the eyes and something in my gaze made him lean back. "It is what made me so popular in the slums, sir. Whether for bullies or sadistic brothel patrons, I was always the most popular." He absent mindedly poked the bruise again as he stared at me.

"You were almost homeless before you came here, right? Your records don't mention it, but I do my own research on my underlings." I closed my eyes and kept my face impassive. "Don't do that," he said fiercely and I opened my eyes in mild surprise. "You don't need to hide when you're here with me. Your past doesn't matter as far as I'm concerned."

His eyes showed flashes of emotion, but they centered on concern and pity. I bristled at the thought of being pitied. I was fine, as far as I cared. "I do not require your pity, Commander. Far worse has happened to less capable individuals. I do not wish for it to make an effect on your expectations, unless it means for you to set them higher." I stood calmly and started walking to the door. "But let me assure you, I need no pity. After all it was my fault to begin with."

I left the room, barely registering the secretary handing me the briefing papers. It didn't matter; I would get the mission done regardless.

I made it to my quarters without incident, and sat quietly on my bed, reading the paper in my hand. It was then that I realized just how ridiculous the plan was. Falcon was right, there was going to be a lot of bombs and shooting and we were going to have to run around like chickens with our heads cut off.

For some reason, I was excited.

Reviews are very much wanted.

If you can guess the end pairing, maybe I'll put one of your suggestions in the story. But only the first five correct guesses get this once in a lifetime opportunity! Hurry before time runs out!