Disclaimer: I don't own Wutai, Lord Kisaragi, the Turks, SOLDIER, Midgar, the slums, ShinRa Electric Power Company or its executives. Those all belong to Square Enix. What does belong to me are my Original Characters, Camryn and Miyuki, and the story itself.
Pre-story A/N: Hey guys, here you go! This is more ShinRa-centric for now, since Miyuki is out in Wutai doing her thing, might as well have some exposition on the Turks from way back when, right? Enjoy, Read and Review, please!
Rudrigo looked at the woman, his countrywoman, and she smiled and laid a hand on her ample bosom, "Esperanze, at your service. Mr. Veld says you have a form you need to fill out?" The young man nodded and proffered the empty form at the woman, confessing, "I don't understand anything. I thought it would be easier, that someone there would know Mideel." The woman arched an eyebrow, "Very few people from Mideel working at ShinRa Company right now, Rudrigo. Most of them have service jobs, like me."
She turned and smiled at Veld, talking in heavily accented Midgar dialect, "Sir, please have something to eat while I complete the form with Rudrigo here." Veld smiled back and looked at the young man, "Is that your name? Very pleased to meet you." He shook the young man's hand, shrugging, "I already had lunch, Esperanze, thanks. I'll just come back to collect Rudrigo here a bit later. I'll send someone."
The woman nodded, and Veld left. She gestured for the youth to sit down while she got them coffee, not the coffee usually served in the cafeteria, but one the cafeteria laborers (about half of them were from Mideel, the other half Costan) brewed for themselves. Rudrigo sipped the coffee, and a knot formed in his throat; he missed his home town sorely, the balmy breezes making the trees rustle and talk amongst themselves, the mineral smell that wafted from the hot springs. And the rich aroma of the coffee, its strong, bitter taste, brought it all to his heart with a pang. Esperanze noticed, and murmured, "It's not easy, is it, Rudrigo?" The young man shook his head, and after a few minutes of silence, they began working on the long form.
A long while later, they'd finished, and Esperanze insisted on feeding Rudrigo an early dinner. What she served was something he'd never had before, which she explained was some of what people here in Midgar ate. He tried it; smiled. It was very different from Mideel country fare. Different, but very good. No sooner had he finished his meal, than a uniformed young man walked into the cafeteria. Even though he seemed very young, the young man seemed very self-possessed, walking with purpose. He did a second take on the seated youth from Mideel, whom, even while sitting seemed larger than what people were used to.
He approached the table and nodded at Esperanze, which instantly made Rudrigo think better of him. Out of all the ShinRa employees who'd come in, not one of them had thanked or even looked at the minority groups laboring in the cafeteria, as if by ignoring them, they could forget those less privileged. "Hello, my name's Tseng. Veld sent me to fetch the form, if you've completed it. . ?" he asked, trailing off when he saw the young man look quickly to Esperanze, who translated. The man immediately offered Tseng the completed form, and Tseng was pleased to see neat handwriting, although he also noted the several pages of scribbled notes, practice sheets for the many words he'd had to learn to write.
He looked at the young man, and with a pained expression, tried, "I'm sorry if I get your name wrong, Rud- Rude . . . Ru-drig-oh." The young man laughed and nodded, "OK, Zeng." His voice was deep, booming, but while kept to a quiet, conversational tone, it was actually quite pleasant to listen to. It sounded like a small boulder rolling around. Both young men shared a laugh at each other's expense, and Tseng, nodding again at Esperanze, tried, "So, you'll be staying here, Veld already made the accommodations. He'll look at your form, interview you tomorrow, and we'll see from there." The young man followed Tseng through the corridors, noticing that, like him, Tseng also seemed to be somewhat of a minority here. More of a minority than Rudrigo himself, actually, seeing as how Tseng was, as far as Rudrigo could tell, the only person with slanted eyes, that golden tone in his skin, and that little dot on his forehead. Not once did Rudrigo see a person of Tseng's ethnicity, not even as a service worker, and he vaguely recalled the rumors in Mideel of a war the ShinRa had waged against some distant land. Wondering if it was Tseng's land, Rudrigo noticed several people pull away from Tseng, stop talking when he got near, and even a small knot of people who actually seemed to recoil when the elevator stopped and Tseng walked in, ushering Rudrigo in.
Once the elevator was empty and the doors slid closed, Tseng sighed quietly, looking downcast, "It's because of the war with Wutai . . ." Rudrigo muttered, "You Wutai?" Tseng looked up, surprised that Rudrigo didn't know him for what he was, and nodded, "Yes, I am. Konichiwa and all that stuff." The bell dinged and the doors slid open, and Tseng motioned, "This is our floor, Rude- oh, hell, Ru-dri-go- I am so sorry! I can't get it right!" The tall man liked the Wutaian, and disliked being the cause of him looking unhappy like that. He nodded, "Rude . . . is . . . OK, Zeng. Tseng."
The Wutaian smiled up at him gratefully, "Are you sure just 'Rude' is OK? It kinda means something different here." The taller man didn't understand, just nodded again, "Rude is OK." Tseng let out a small breath and led the aspiring Turk to the small ShinRa-owned apartment Veld had procured, despite the executives' demurring about putting up a youth who couldn't even speak Midgar Continental. "Here's where you'll be staying," the Wutaian gestured at the door, "I'll be here to pick you up at 0700 hours." He hated treating the other man like this, as if dealing with a child, but had to do it, had to be sure he understood. Tseng tapped his watch and put up seven fingers, then made a mimic pointing to the completed form and to the end of the hallway ("At 7 we take the form and go.") The tall man nodded once more, and offered, "Coffee, Tseng?" Tseng smiled and began to say no, when he recognized not only hospitality, but loneliness. Letting out another small breath, Tseng nodded, "OK, Rude, but just one cup."
Several hours later, Tseng was still there with Rude. He'd tried to bridge the language gap between them by coaching Rude through what he thought would be the interview, how to answer the things in the form. Rude was a good student, quickly learning the correct answers, and Tseng knew he truly wanted this job. Thinking he'd ask why, Tseng gave a wide, jaw-cracking yawn and glanced at the clock, making a face, "Oh, holy Leviathan, look at the time! It's nearly midnight!" Rude caught some of Tseng's dismay and made a face himself. Tseng got up to leave, and Rude walked him to the door, rumbling a quiet, "Thank you, Tseng," that, while very short, conveyed his gratefulness aptly. The Wutaian smiled and shrugged, "Don't thank me yet, Rude. I'll see you later."
Early the next morning, Veld glanced uneasily at the clock. It was almost seven, time for Rudrigo to come in for the interview, which was something Veld was dreading. The young man was not supposed to have any help during the interview, or during the written exam, and Veld had seen a flash of brilliance in the young man's eyes he just knew would be ill-reflected by the interview. He sighed as an idea dawned upon him, "The executives would tear me a new one for this. . ." he thought, picking up the phone.
At exactly 6:59, the door opened, and Tseng peered in. Veld found himself smiling at the young man. A thoughtful and almost frightfully intelligent Wutaian, Tseng had overcome the odds (including racial prejudice and mountains of paperwork) to finally become a Turk, at least on paper. This was an event that had occurred just yesterday, a few hours before Rudrigo himself got there. Despite, in actuality, the fact that Tseng had been enrolled in ShinRa training programs for almost two years now. Tseng entered the office, gesturing, "Come in, Rude." Veld smiled at Tseng, and the Wutaian mouthed, "Compromise. Couldn't get his name right." He was followed by the applicant, who glanced around the office and flashed a quick smile to Veld. Veld gestured at the chairs before his desk and told the young men, "Sit. I am going to do something very, very unorthodox, but that I hope will pan out for all of us. Let's hope he gets here quick."
Tseng looked at Veld inquisitively but held his tongue, something Veld appreciated in a person. He asked, "So it's 'Rude' now, is it?" Rude smiled, and Tseng explained, "Yes sir. I was having problems getting his name right." Rude nodded and gravely added, "We fix it." Tseng nodded solemnly as well, but Veld saw he was leading a mighty struggle to not burst out laughing. There was a soft knock on the door, and Veld called out, "Enter." A janitor walked in, looking scared to have been called out to the office of the Turk Commander. "What is the matter?" he asked, the name on his shirt Guilhermo. Veld's brow furrowed, "No, no, there's no problem. I just want your expertise as a Midgar-Mideel translator." The man looked at Veld. Then at Tseng, and finally at Rude, a smile opening his face, "One of ours for the Turks?!" he asked incredulously in their language, and Rude replied in like, "About time, don't you think?" Both men from Mideel laughed, and Tseng arched his eyebrows at Veld, who smiled and shrugged, taking the opportunity of both of them being distracted to slip Tseng a piece of paper. Find a language school and enroll Rude. Company's tab.
Even if Rude didn't make it into the Turks, Veld still wanted to help him out any way he could, and learning the Midgar Continental dialect would ensure he ended up with a much better job than most of his peers within the Company, who'd been hired as illegal immigrants and had learned the language while working here.
Using the janitor as a liaison, Veld conducted the interview, and found that Rude was a deeply intelligent man, who seemed very loyal and trustworthy. Not to mention that, like most people from Mideel, he possessed a mild character and a disposition to work hard. Veld went into the details of Rude's background:
He was from the northern peninsula of Mideel, an area renowned for lush forests, vibrant wildlife, beaches and hot springs.
His father actually owned and operated a small inn beside a hot spring, where visitors could have a meal, relax at the springs, and have a night of restful sleep. It was a family operation, as several of his extended family members worked at the hot spring inn.
Rude's only nuclear family was his father. His mother had died when he was 13 years old, and he was an only child.
Which meant his father was worried and displeased that Rude wanted to be a Turk.
His motivation to join the Turks wasn't meant to intentionally displease his father, but more out of a desire to help his hometown through a solid connection to ShinRa. He wasn't trained for administrative work, and the military would take too long to get him to a status where he could help, so Turks it was. Besides, how many Mideel Turks were there?
Veld nodded, "Very true, but Rude . . . It's going to be very, very difficult, mostly because of the language barrier. All the trainers, all the manuals and tests, it's all in Midgar. How fast can you learn the language?" After Guilhermo's translation, Rude looked glum. He sighed, and explained for the janitor to tell Veld, "I am willing to try hard, and I will learn as fast as I am able to." Veld looked at him, and at Tseng. The Wutaian looked hopeful; the janitor, mildly defiant, as if he'd speak up for Rude should Veld decline him further opportunities. Rude himself looked determined. With a mild sigh, Veld nodded, "Alright. We'll give it a shot. You're a Turk, at least preliminary. Take a few classes, see how you do, and then we'll talk further."
Guilhermo exclaimed in Mideel, "That's it! They're giving you a chance, man! He said for you to take a few classes, and then he'll interview you again. You'd better learn, man, and get us our first Mideel Turk!" Rude grinned, "I will! Just sit and watch!"
A/N: Yay for Rude!
And a very happy (belated) New Year to all of you!
And as usual, Read and Review!
