Chapter X
"The Stalkers"
"You gotta be kidding me," laughed a gruff voice as Cid led Vincent around the corner of the hanger. A small group of Al Bhed was lounging about in the shade of the hanger, piles of gear scattered in the sand.
"This is the guy?" the gruff voice asked as one of the Al Bhed stood up and approached. He was a short, stocky man with long disheveled hair framing his unshaven face. He was wearing a pair of long, patched shorts that billowed at the knees and a dusty set of ring mail on his chest. He carried a long staff ending in a fierce looking curved blade lightly in his right hand.
"He looks like a cream puff," the man said. "You sure you got the right guy Cid? We got no need for some jysbena wannabe playing dress up."
Vincent bristled at the man's remarks, but held his tongue.
"Shut up, Raff," said Cid, "I'm too damn busy to listen to the crap that spews out of your mouth." Cid brushed past Raff and stood in front of the rest of the group. "Fall in," he ordered. The group looked up at him, then went back to whatever they had been doing.
"All right, as you were," muttered Cid. He turned to Vincent as Raff walked to the rest of the group. "Vincent, meet the Stalkers, the scum sucking wretches of Home."
"You do know how to flatter a girl Cid," cooed one of the two girls. Cid ignored her.
"Every Stalker has committed some sort of crime. This is their punishment," explained Cid. "Now, none of them are murdering psychos like Zuhyc is, but their all pretty bad in their own way. After they serve their time, they are free to reenter society. If they are still alive." He walked over to a dark skinned man sitting against the hanger. His face was grizzled from age and exposure, his black hair beginning to thin and grey. His right arm was a mass of shiny chrome and steel. It was a prosthetic arm, salvaged off some derelict robot. He sat on an oversized pack. Vincent could see piles of casings and large shells sticking out of the pack, ammo for the huge mortar cannon lying on the ground.
"This is Cys," introduced Cid. "He got in a bar brawl and killed a guy who had some powerful friends in our little community. He's been a Stalker the longest. Guess that makes him the leader." Cys nodded to Vincent before pulling a wrench out of his pocket and began fiddling with his arm.
"The short stack with the mouth is Raff," said Cid. "He and his brother got picked up for smuggling machina weapons off the island a couple years ago. He's a smart ass pirate, but he's pretty good with that spear." Raff flipped Cid his middle finger and sat down in the shade, sipping a bottle of beer.
Cid turned and pointed at a beautiful Al Bhed girl leaning against a small tree. She was tall, taller than any of the others present. She was dressed in skintight leather pants the color of sand. A leather belt filled with pouches of small throwing knives parted her bikini clad breasts. She held a curved short sword and picked at her painted nails with its tip. She smiled coyly at Vincent and waved at him.
"That's Drya," said Cid. "Watch your purse and your groin around her. They're her two favorite things." Drya winked and licked her lips at Vincent. Vincent looked away, her looks and mannerisms reminding him too much like Rosso the Crimson…
A small, round, robust woman waddled past Drya. She wore mechanic overalls and had a massive pack strapped to her back, almost as large as herself. She headed towards Cys and removed a large can of oil from her pocket. She knelt down besides Cys and began to oil the hinges and hydraulics of his machina arm.
"The lil' mouse is Brienne. She used to be our best mechanic and scientist," Cid said, his voice full of disappointment. "Until one of her lil' experiments went ka-boom."
Brienne looked up at them, her cheeks flush under her large glasses. "My solar generator was working…" she whispered meekly.
"Until it got so hot it exploded and totaled half the sand skimmers," interrupted Raff. Brienne turned away, her face full of embarrassment, and went back to working on Cys' arm.
Cid glared at Raff and shouted "And where the hell is your brother? I wanted all of you here this morning."
Raff shrugged his shoulders. "Gregor does what he wants Cid. You try and tell him what to do."
Cid kicked the sand and stomped his feet. "You people are supposed to be workin' for me! When I say be here at this time, then yer supposed to #$& be here!"
"Easy Cid," said Drya. "That throbbing vein on your forehead looks like its going to pop."
"I'll take it easy when you people start listening to me!" shouted Cid as he stepped into a large bit of shade. "Raff! Get out of here and go find your muscle bound moron of a brother!"
"Yeah, sure thing Cid," replied Raff, giving Cid a salute with his beer but not getting up. "But I don't think Gregor appreciates you calling him names."
"And how would that #$&#$ rock head know I'm calling him names?"
"Well, fer starters yer standing in his shadow," laughed Raff.
Cid paled and stared down at his feet. The shade he was standing in moved and rippled and he cursed under his breath. He turned around slowly and looked up at the giant standing behind him.
Gregor was known throughout Home was The Mountain and for good reason. He towered over Cid and everyone else, even Drya and Vincent. Poor Cid only reached halfway up Gregor's massive chest. Gregor had muscles upon muscles, creating an enormous bulk to accompany his height. His arms and legs were thick masses of bulging muscle and his bull neck was nearly invisible between his thick shoulders. A jagged scar was barely visible in the shadow of his jaw, slicing across his throat. His thick head ended in a prominent jaw and chin and was bald save for a short pony tail. Gregor wore little, preferring to let his immense size intimidate his enemies. A tattered pair of pants covered his legs, his feet in leather sandals. He wore heavy gloves plated in steel and iron over his meaty hands. A large pad of quilted leather and bits of steel was slung across his chest and attached to his right shoulder as armor.
"Ah, er, um, glad you could make it Gregor," Cid said nervously, rubbing the back of his head and neck, trying not to look directly at Gregor. Gregor crossed his arms and bent at the waist to look Cid in the eye. Cid smiled weakly at The Mountain. Gregor's eyes narrowed and he snorted at Cid before lumbering over to sit beside his brother.
Cid exhaled sharply and cleared his throat, taking a moment to recompose himself (and check his shorts). "Now that we're all here, allow me to introduce Vincent, Home's newest Stalker." Cid sounded like a proud boxing promoter introducing the heavyweight champion.
Vincent looked out at the Stalkers as they stared back at him with distain and disrespect. 'Tough crowd,' he thought. 'It would be my luck to get out of jail only to find myself in the company of criminals.'
"So what did ya do?" asked Drya, breaking the silence and staring.
"Do?"
"Yeah, do," she repeated with a hint of seductive suggestion.
Vincent thought for a moment, trying to tally the number of Shin-Ra and Deepground soldiers he killed in the past.
"Nothing comes to mind," Vincent lied.
Raff snorted, spilling his beer. "Yeah, that wasn't cryptic or anything."
"You mean you didn't commit a crime or cause a big accident or anything?" asked Brienne. Vincent shook his head. Lies came easier that the truth.
"That is so unfair Cid!"" she roared brandishing her wrench like she was going to use it as a club. "You can't force somebody out here to do what we do for no reason!"
"Aw quit lecturing me Brienne," growled Cid, rubbing his eyes. "Vincent here has certain skills and abilities that make him too hazardous in town. And he's not being forced. I figured this would be a good way to keep him out of trouble and use his skills before he catches the next boat outta here." He dug into his pockets and pulled out a thick file of papers. He tossed the file to Cys, landing in the sand near his feet.
"Here's yer new assignment. Make sure you all read it before heading out. And I want you all to actually check in from the desert on schedule this time!" he shouted before stomping off.
The Stalkers watched Cid leave, not moving until the leader had completely left the hanger area. Cys reached down and picked up the file folder and dropped it on top of his pack. He stood up and walked around Vincent, inspecting his new trooper.
"So you're the jysbena everyone's been talking about? From all the stories we've heard, I thought you'd be bigger." His voice was deep and gruff, grittier than the sand he stood on.
"I get that a lot," muttered Vincent, remembering his encounter in the bar with Naq.
"I bet. Before we head out, I need to know that you can handle yourself. You see, we all might be degenerates here, but we're all we have. Out there," he pointed to the barren desert, "it doesn't matter how good Cid says you are. You get yourself killed it's your ass, I don't care. But I need to know that I can trust you not to get me or anyone else killed." He grinned widely, showing off a mouth of yellowed teeth. "So we have a little test for you. A trail in combat."
Vincent raised a single eyebrow. "Against who?"
Cys just smiled and stepped back towards his seat. Behind him, Gregor stood up. The Mountain stretched his arms out wide, his wingspan twice as long as Raff's spear. He yawned and scratched his behind before stomping over towards Vincent. Gregor towered over the gunslinger, it looked like his massive bulk would swallow up the lean Vincent.
Drya sauntered over to Vincent's side, her hips swaying back and forth. "Let's have that gun, darling," she said and held out her hands. Vincent quickly removed his gun and holster, not once taking his eyes off Gregor.
"Try not to ruin that pretty face handsome," Drya whispered into Vincent's ear as she walked off.
"First one to knock out the other wins. And try not to make too much of a mess with him Gregor!" shouted Cys before sitting down like a medieval king about to watch a tournament melee or joust.
Gregor leapt at Vincent, catching the gunslinger by surprise, rearing back with a giant fist and swinging for Vincent's head. The Mountain moved much faster than he looked and the blow landed with the force of an explosion, sending billowing clouds of sand and dust into the air.
Raff cheered for his brother, jumping up and down. Drya looked upset that her new eye candy was certainly crushed, but quickly remembered she had his gun and began twirling it around her finger. Brienne quickly began to rummage through her pack, searching for some potion or elixir that might save Vincent. Cys just looked bored. But they all gasped when the cloud settled.
Vincent was still standing tall in the center of a small crater, the testimony to Gregor's power. A faint bruise was visible on the left side of his mouth where Gregor's punch landed. The bruise quickly began to fade and was gone by the time Vincent wiped his mouth. He stared up at Gregor with his blood red eyes and his crimson cloak began to writhe and contort.
"Is that all?"
Gregor fumed at the insult and opened his mouth in a silent roar. He charged at Vincent, swinging his armored fists wildly. Vincent easily dodged the assault of blows, making a mockery of Gregor's size and strength.
Cys chuckled in amusement while Drya stared at Vincent lustfully. No man had ever taken one of Gregor's punches to the head and remained alive, let alone standing. Brienne smiled and clapped happily as she found a Hi-Potion in the depths of her bag: happy that she found it and happier that she didn't need to use it. At least not yet.
Raff was seething from the sidelines. "Stand still and fight you bloody jysbena!"
But Vincent kept dodging under Gregor's punches, kept sidestepping around them. Gregor's face twisted into a vicious snarl and sweat dripped from his brow. Growing frustration fueled his body and he continued his assault. Gregor raised both hands above his head and smashed his fists downward in a colossal hammerblow. The desert air whooshed as Vincent ducked under the blow and closed his claw into a tight fist.
Vincent's claw shined in the sun as he swung upwards, uppercutting Gregor in the chin. The giant's head rocked backwards from the punch, staggering him backwards. It was all the time Vincent needed.
Leaping into the air, Vincent soared high above Gregor, the Stalkers, and the hanger. He hung in the air, his cloak fluttering in the wind.
Gregor stumbled around, still reeling from Vincent's punch. He growled and looked around for Vincent.
"He's in the air, Gregor!" shouted Raff. "Look up, you moron!"
Gregor looked up, just in time to see Vincent plummet back to earth. Vincent spun acrobatically in the air, twisting behind Gregor, and drove the soles of his pointed boots into the back of Gregor's neck. The blow knocked Gregor forward and he fell face first. Vincent rode on his back, using The Mountain as a platform, carving a deep furrow into the sand. The Al Bhed surfboard ground to a halt in front of the rest of astonished Stalkers.
In a flash, Vincent leapt off Gregor's back and landed behind Drya. Before she could react, Vincent snatched his pistol from her hand, leveling the gun at Cys' head and holding his claw at Drya's delicate throat.
"I don't like tests," he growled at Cys.
The shock of watching Gregor fall passed quickly. Brienne squeaked and dove back into her pack for more potions and concoctions. Cys slowly rose from his makeshift throne, opening and closing his mechanical fist.
Raff clutched his spear and ran at Vincent, snarling and cursing. Vincent spun, pulling Drya with him as a human shield. He aimed his pistol at the charging Raff and fired a single round at his feet. The shot crashed into the sand right in front of him, halting his charge. He stared at Vincent in rage and fear. Vincent turned again, roughly dragging Drya with him, and aimed his gun back at Cys.
Vincent felt Drya lean back against his body, straddling his leg and grinding her backside against his crotch.
"Ooh, I like it rough," she whispered as she tilted her head back and try and kiss Vincent.
"Keep your pants on," Vincent replied as he pushed her off his body and held her at arms length.
Cys stepped forward slowly as Brienne waddled towards Gregor, her hands full of colorful potions. Cys raised his hands to Vincent, displaying no threat.
"Not bad," he admitted. His voice sounded less gruff than before. He even clapped twice in approval. "No one has ever beat Gregor before. Guess that means you passed the test."
Vincent let go of Drya and holstered his gun.
"Lucky me."
-X-
Cys called the Stalkers around a small table as he picked up the bundle of files Cid tossed to him earlier. Cys carefully read over the orders while the other Stalkers took their seats.
Drya took a seat across from Vincent, her eyes constantly roaming up and down his frame. Raff sulked in anger, sitting as far away from Vincent as he could. He kept playing with the blade of his spear and grumbled curses under his breath. Brienne took her place at Cys' side.
'She's in love with him,' Vincent thought as he noticed the starry eyed gazes of admiration Brienne was giving Cys.
Gregor was still unconscious, despite the potions Brienne poured down his scarred throat. It was only a matter of time before he woke and no one paid him any further attention.
"Alright," barked Cys, calling the Stalkers to attention. "Looks like a bunch of surveyors got themselves wrecked in the middle of the desert. We received a fragment of a sphere broadcast shortly after the crash." He pulled as small blue sphere ringed with a bright band of gold from the files and set it on the table. He pressed a small button on the sphere and it slowly rose into the air. A soft hum began and a 3-D hologram projected out of the sphere.
A fuzzy image formed: an Al Bhed man dressed in tattered clothing stumbled in front of the camera. His face was stained black from smoke and Vincent could see the fiery wreckage of a speeder behind him. The Stalkers leaned in as static erupted from hidden speakers. The man's voice came after.
"…Delta 3. I repeat, this is Survey Team Delta 3. Our speeder hit an unknown object hidden in the sand." He paused and lowered his head, his voice dropping somberly. "Everyone else is dead. I managed to salvage some of the communication equipment and am broadcasting from Area 092, Grid 78. Get someone up here quick…" the broadcast blipped and the hologram went black. The man's voice was still playing, sounding higher and more frantic.
"I can hear fiends coming closer. I have no weapons or shelter, I'm burning up out here. Please hurry!" The sphere plunged back into harsh static…
"Well, what are we waiting for?" asked Brienne. "There's no time to sit around, let's go get him."
"Or we can get drunk and just say we did," muttered Raff. Brienne opened her mouth in protest, but Cys stood up quickly and held up his hand.
"Shut up, both of you, and listen!" he ordered. "There's more." The sphere continued to hum and the man's voice cut through the empty static.
"…Coming! It's coming! Gods, its huge…the flames…Oh God no, no…"
The man's voice became a terrible high pitched scream that ran up and down the spine and made Brienne shiver terribly.
Cys reached out and shut off the sphere. He looked across the table, pausing at each and every Stalker to look at his or her face. Raff looked bored as ever, Brienne was pale and still shaking from hearing the man's screams and Drya barely took the time to tear herself away from staring at Vincent to look at Cys.
Vincent met Cys' eyes with his own cold red orbs. And Cys could tell Vincent already knew what he was about to say. He turned his weathered face as hard as stone and kept his voice steady as he addressed the team.
"There's not going to be a rescue mission," he said grimly. "It's too late for that. We're going out there and we're going to kill this thing."
-X-
The Stalkers set to work immediately, loading up a trio of small vehicles with heavy treads instead of wheels. They looked more like sleds with large storage lockers than tanks and had little in terms of mounted weapons and armor.
"Why we takin' the SandCats?" Raff asked as he and the finally awake Gregor loaded misshapen parcels and bags onto their vehicle. "Shouldn't we take somethin' with a bit more firepower?"
"What do you think this big bad is going to swat at first?" Cys answered with another question. "The hulking monster or the quick mosquito?"
Raff grumbled some more to his silent brother, but raised no further argument. The SandCats were faster in the open desert than anything else Cid made available for the Stalkers use. If this fiend was as big and bad as everyone thought, that speed could mean the difference between living and dying.
The SandCats each held two people and the Stalkers divided enough supplies for three days amongst them. Cys and Brienne took one, loading it with just Cys' massive mortar cannon and Brienne's piles upon piles of potions and ingredients. Raff and Gregor's SandCat was bigger than the others. It had to be specially modified to hold Gregor's massive size and carried the largest and bulkiest of the supplies: the tents, bedding, water, and Gregor's plate mail. Vincent rode with Drya and most of the group's food.
When it came time to leave, Vincent walked around the front of the SandCat and started to climb in behind the wheel.
"What do you think you're doing?" asked Drya kindly as she stowed the last bits of her gear and approached from behind. She twirled the SandCat's ignition key around her finger and put a hand on her hip.
"Driving," answered Vincent plainly.
"Sorry baby," laughed Drya, "but I do the driving around here."
Vincent didn't answer; he just stared at her and held his hand out for the key.
Drya shrugged her shoulders. "Alright, knock yourself out," she said, handing Vincent the key and stepping aside. Vincent eyed her suspiciously before sitting down on the narrow, motorcycle-like seat. He grabbed the SandCat's handlebar with his claw and looked over the rest of the controls with the ignition key in hand.
The controls were all in Al Bhed. Every switch, every button, and every toggle was labeled in jumbled letters. While he quickly learned how to speak the language, Vincent hadn't had the time to learn how to read Al Bhed. He sighed and rubbed his eyes before climbing off the seat.
"You drive," he muttered and handed Drya the key.
"Knew you'd see things my way darling," she smiled.
-X-
Cys pulled his SandCat to a halt a good distance away from the wreckage. He stepped off the SandCat quickly and unloaded his ammo pack and mortar cannon. Brienne struggled with her own pack until Cys reached over and helped her. Raff pulled up besides Cys' SandCat, allowing Gregor to get off and unload his armor. While Cys helped Gregor attach the buckles and straps of his armor, Raff circled around the wreckage, scouting for any trace of the fiend.
Drya and Vincent SandCat brought up the rear guard and stopped several feet beside Cys. Vincent got up quickly, thankful to have stopped. Drya was a terrifying driver, driving at breakneck speeds and braking abruptly around tight curves. Vincent had to wrap his normal arm around Drya's waist to keep from being thrown off, much to Drya's delight. Whenever his grip around her waist loosened, Drya would jink the SandCat roughly to one side or accelerate quickly enough to nearly knock Vincent off. He would lose his balance for a moment before grabbing back onto her and hearing her bell-like laughter again and again.
"Alright, spread formation. Gregor's point," ordered Cid. The Stalkers fanned out behind Gregor and slowly marched towards the wreckage. Gregor was armored in thick plates of steel and iron, his head covered in an angular steel helm. The sand shook as he walked and tiny sand lizards scurried out of his way. The shaking sand startled a small green Cactaur and it sprang out of the sand in front of Gregor.
The quirky creature danced up and down before tilting its body towards the Stalkers and spraying 1,000 razor sharp needles at the group. Everyone quickly ducked behind Gregor and heard the needles pinging off Gregor's armor. When the needles stopped, Gregor looked like a giant pincushion, the sharp needles sticking out of his armor. He brushed his armored hands over his armor, knocking away the needles. When the last needle had fallen off, Gregor drew his massive great sword off his back and twirled it over his head. He buried the sword tip into the sand in front of the Cactaur, bent over, and growled at the little green monster. The Cactaur made a quirk-like chirp and scrambled off as fast as its little legs could carry it.
"Damn pests," muttered Cys as he stepped out from behind Gregor and pulled a stray needle out of his machina arm. "Keep moving."
-X-
Bile rose in the Stalkers' throats when they arrived at the wreck. The speeder was an unrecognizable hulk of twisted, burning black metal. Fires burned hot enough to turn the sand into broken fragments of glass. Bodies were scattered in and about the wreckage, their bodies picked clean by scavengers and bones burned black by the fires. The smell of cooked flesh and burnt motor oil hung in the air.
"What could have done this?" asked Drya as Brienne paled and vomited at the sights and stench. A sudden chill crept through Drya and she wrapped her arms around herself. Even Gregor wasn't immune to the carnage, his hands were visibly trembling. When he caught Vincent looking, he grabbed onto his great sword to stop the shaking.
Raff was still sitting on his SandCat on the other side of the wreck. He took draft after draft of strong liquor from a bottle he smuggled onto his SandCat.
Only Cys and Vincent seemed unaffected by the wreckage. Cys, the veteran, had seen similar crashes in his tenure as a Stalker. To Vincent, the crashed speeder was nothing compared to the devastation he witnessed in Midgar and Mideel.
Cys walked over to the still vomiting Brienne and rubbed her back gently. "That's it," he whispered. "It's all right, happens to everybody. Just get it all out of your system now." She nodded her head, bile and drool dripping off her chin.
Vincent stood motionless in front of the wreck, detached from the destruction. His sharp eyes took note of every scorch mark and torn piece of metal. His enhanced hearing picked up the sound of faint scratching and haggard breathing.
Vincent quickly pinpointed the source of the sound and ran deep into the wreckage, his pointed boots crunching on the glassy ground, his claw knocking scrap metal out of his way.
"What does he think he's doing?" asked Drya as she pointed Vincent out to Cid.
Cys' eyes narrowed and he grumbled, "Damn jysbena is gonna get himself killed."
Vincent dug into the fiery wreckage, tossing burning pieces of metal over his shoulder with his claw. The metal screamed in protest as he pried apart rivets and welds, reveling a man lying beneath the wreckage.
The man was dressed in a loose open shirt and wore a pair of broken goggles on his face. Vincent quickly looked over the man's wounds. His legs were crushed by the heavy metal Vincent pried off and a jagged piece of metal had buried itself in-between the man's ribs. Blood spurted from the man's lips with every breath and Vincent could see the light slowly fading from the man's eyes.
Vincent began to move away to get Brienne, but the dying man's hand snapped up with surprising speed and held on to Vincent's golden forearm. Vincent waved his other hand to Brienne and the others and they began to run towards him.
Vincent felt a tug on his arm and turned to see the man pulling at him. Vincent lowered his head as the man started whispering.
"You have to…have to stop it…" the man whispered. Even Vincent's sharp hearing could barely hear him.
"What did this?" asked Vincent. The man's eyes rolled back in his head and for a moment, Vincent thought it was too late. He lightly shook the man and he inhaled sharply.
"What did this?" Vincent asked again, a little more forcibly this time.
"Faybuh…" the man croaked in Al Bhed and breathed his last. Brienne arrived a heartbeat later and uncorked her potions, pouring them into the man's throat. The elixirs sparkled in the air, but had no effect on the wounded man. He was dead.
Cys and the other Stalkers arrived and exchanged glances between Vincent and the dead man. Brienne slowly put away her potions and stood next to Cys. The Stalker leader reached down, brushing aside the man's glasses and closed his eyes.
"Did he say anything?" Cys asked Vincent. "Did he say what could have did this?"
"Faybuh. He said Faybuh," said Vincent. He looked up at the rest of the Al Bhed Stalkers. "I don't know what that means."
Cys looked uncomfortably at the ground and the other Stalkers fidgeted nervously.
"Aw, crap," groaned Raff. "You gotta be kidding me."
"What does it mean?" asked Vincent.
"This is bad," moaned Drya. "This is bad bad."
"What does it mean?" Vincent asked again.
"Maybe it's not true?" Brienne thought optimistically. "Maybe he was delirious or something."
"What does it mean?" Vincent's patience came to an end and his voice grew loud and sharp.
Cys opened and closed his machina hand rapidly before looking at Vincent.
"Faybuh is an old Al Bhed curse," he explained grimly. "It means Earth's monster, a…"
"WEAPON," interrupted Vincent.
Author's Notes:
Please don't hate me for the cliffhanger. I couldn't resist, I think I have a problem with them. I wonder if there's a 12 step program for folk like me: Cliffhangers Annonymous or something.
This was kind of an experimental chapter for me. It was the first time I really created a large group of OCs. Some feedback on them would be really nice and the readers response to them will determine their futures in this story.
Hope you all enjoy the chapter and I hope to hear from everyone soon.
Peace,
Nataku's Wrath