Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. This story is mine, as are the Alliance and any assorted OCs that sneak in here. This is the first chapter of the second arc of this story. Constructive feedback welcome and appreciated!
..:-X-:..
Chapter Eleven: Regroup
When the first Allied Gummi carrier broke through the invisible wall surrounding MX9, it let out an air-splitting crack that sent all of the soldiers to attention, turning to look through the plated windows to witness it themselves. Multiple flashes of light barraged out from the impact site, flowering out into the void of space.
Leon remained where he was, sitting with his jaw tilted forward against his fist, watching through the window, feeling conflicted. That was it then. The wall had been broken. For good or bad, there was no going back now. He watched the first ship sink into the atmospheric hole that the impact had created. There was a brilliant flash as tendrils of breaks crackled through the rest of the wall. They would have to move quickly if they were going to reseal the wall once they were all in.
His eyes drifted to the platoon in the hold with him, gluing themselves to the windows and nearly bouncing with anticipation, though they were trying to look professional. They had gone over the plans tirelessly on the long flight from Radiant Garden. They had remained in orbit around MX9 for all of an hour before deciding to proceed.
As the second and the third carriers followed the first, Leon sat up straighter and rolled his shoulders. He had spoken to the three commanders of the other platoons and they had agreed that contact with the natives was not the first priority. First they would land and establish a secure base location, then recon the area and survey the real Heartless situation. Only after deciding the stability of the world would they approach the two parties inhabiting MX9.
The ship that Leon was on and then the final cargo ship pushed through the gap in the wall, and at first, no one could see anything. Only blackness and flashes of lightning. It was storming on the world. That would work to their advantage, Leon noted. The light and the noise of their entrance would hopefully be dismissed as lightning and thunder and dulled by rain.
"Sit down." Leon spoke up as the rain began to lash against the sides of the ships.
The soldiers looked at him in surprise for a brief second, but then obediently took their seats and strapped in for landing. Leon moved into the cockpit, grabbing onto an overhead bar. The pilot, one of Cid's interns, was too busy navigating through the storm to pay him any attention, but Private Marcus, one of Leon's interns, turned around promptly.
"The flagship is resealing the hole now, sir." He reported. "The other ships are circling a clearing two miles east from here. No signs of any detection by the natives. It's like there's no one here, sir."
Leon squinted through the windshield, barely able to make out trees and mountains through the flashes of darkness and lightning. "Their wall was completely intact, which means they've made no attempt to leave this world. If they aren't developed enough to attempt flight, then we can't assume they have the technology to detect us so quickly."
"Coming in too steep." Cid's intern growled, jerking on the control panel to even out the ship's trajectory.
"They're advanced enough to be attacking each other." Marcus replied. "That's advanced enough to concern me."
Leon frowned, "You just concern yourself with fighting Heartless."
"Yes, sir." Marcus said, facing forward again.
Ten minutes of turbulence and narrowly avoiding lightning later, all five ships cruised in low over the tree tops and lowered their steel bellies to the grayish brown soil of MX9. The soldiers were shifting restlessly, but Leon gave them no order as he walked past them from the cockpit to the exit by the back of the ship.
The ship chugged and hissed as it settled onto the surface and the engines idled. He disengaged the airlock and safety mechanism, unlatching the door and pushing it outward. The steel crisply swung away, letting in the first breaths of MX9. The air smelled earthy and moist as it permeated the ship. Leon ignored the rain that immediately buffeted his face and shoulders, jumping down out of the hold. His boots smacked into the thick mud, mimicked as others stepped out of the other carriers.
Lieutenant Walker was already dispatching two groups of his platoon to scout the perimeter. Majors Valerie Banks and John Simon were more like Leon, testing out the surface and checking their immediate surroundings. He met both of their gazes and gave a short nod, looking back toward his ship.
"Unload." He ordered over the sound of the rain.
Banks and Simon gave similar orders to their soldiers and Leon walked toward the edge of their landing site, looking out at the shadowy forest beyond. It was easy to see why the Heartless were congregating here. Even without the conflict between the two parties here, it was dark and wet and cold: practically a breeding ground for the creatures.
"You think it's like this all the time?" Major Simon said, arms folded where he stood a few paces away.
Leon pursed his lips. "Time will tell."
The rain persisted as they set up base camp, and they were all equally soaked and muddy by the time dawn began to break. They apparently had landed in the middle of the night, and the storm was abating above them. Once the perimeter was secure and the base was set up, Simon and Banks both sent squads out into the wilderness to recon the area, and possibly see if any native residents were nearby, so they'd know places to avoid for now.
As much as Leon wanted to go out there on his own and see what MX9 held beyond its trees, he had to stay behind with the other three leaders to settle on how to move forward with the operation. The rain had stopped by that point, and they elected to meet outside instead of huddling in a tent.
Valerie Banks was one of Cid's top subordinates, and she frequently flew as his wingman during routine missions. She normally had short, cropped red hair and a composed appearance, but at the moment she looked like a half-drowned rat covered in mud. John Simon was an apprentice intern under Merlin's sorcery department, and he had the wizard's same penchant for being unorganized and eccentric, with flyaway blond hair and bright green eyes.
"Scouts made no contact or sighting of anyone." Walker informed, lighting tobacco in a pipe and puffing on it. "They said there're no buildings or signs that there used to be buildings. Not even a bloody footprint."
"Any Heartless sightings?" Leon prompted.
"None of those either." Walker shook his head.
"How is that possible?" Major Banks interjected, folding her arms. "We were sent here because of the fuckin' things, and now that we're here, they're not gonna show?"
"They are Heartless." Simon pointed out. "Creatures of darkness. You expect them to make sense?"
"When I leave my husband for two months, I do." Banks bit back. "I expect them to roll out the fuckin' red carpet and line up for me to shoot 'em."
The corner of Leon's mouth quirked: definitely one of Cid's.
"Unfortunately, that's not how the Heartless work." Major Simon pointed out.
"Oh…go file a report or something." Baker waved a hand at him flippantly. "Radiant Garden still needs our initial logistics about this place."
"Why me?" Simon narrowed his eyes.
"Because Lieutenant Walker is debriefing us, Commander Leonhart is more important than you, and you are annoying me." She hissed. "Now scurry, bitch."
Simon huffed and stood, "Of all the disrespectful…" He bemoaned, walking toward the communication tent to relay the report.
Walker puffed at his pipe, watching the exchange.
Leon snorted and looked up at the sky. It was just a clear sunrise, orange and pink and a fading blue. No sign that just hours earlier five ships had torn through it.
"Moving on." He looked to Walker and Banks again. "The Heartless will show themselves eventually. There are over 200 soldiers with ironclad hearts based here now. They won't be able to resist." He remarked. "And we have no idea what species of Heartless this is. The terrain would suggest the darkness would take the form of a plant-based or water-based Heartless, but we can't be sure."
"So we're playing bait." Banks said, folding one leg over the other.
"We're playing patience." Walker corrected, pointing his pipe at her. "Unlike Heartless, we have things called brains that can formulate effective plans." He lifted the thick band of paper holding their campaign plans.
The lieutenant was the oddball in this group. While the others had been chosen for their combat prowess, Walker was a tactician. He was a master strategist…self declared. He was also the most physically ambiguous: he was the least likely of their group to rub the natives the wrong way on the first impression. Between Leon's general people skills, Bank's filthy mouth, and Simon's overall eccentricity, Leon had to admit that Walker was their best bet.
Then again, he hadn't come here to make small talk with the natives. Their job was to wipe out the Heartless first and foremost. Eventually that would put them directly in the path of the civil war about to break out, since that was the root of the darkness that was attracting the Heartless in the first place.
But they would worry about that later.
"We'll separate the platoons into squadrons of five." Leon started, drawing them back to the topic at hand. "Send three squads from each platoon to survey the area."
"We have scouts out now." Banks gestured.
"They're getting the lay of the land." Walker said. "Organized squads will be prepared for any surprise attack, so they'll be better equipped to go deeper, fan out farther."
"Exactly." Leon stood. "Once we know the exact kind of world we're dealing with, we'll organize an operation against the Heartless."
The other two nodded and Walker went to relay this idea to Simon. Banks gave a lazy salute and meandered back to her soldiers. Leon made his way back to his own platoon, swatting at a few mosquitoes that had sprung to life out of the balmy atmosphere.
If it wasn't for the mud three inches deep, the anachronistic appearance of the armed ships amidst the trees, and the general darkness that seemed to lurk in the forest around them, the smell of the pine and the air after the rain would have been pleasant.
"Harper, Elk, Bates." Leon called out as he reached the carrier.
The three soldiers sprang out of the wings of their comrades, a triple echo of 'sir!'
"Each of you assemble four other recruits for a recon sweep of the area." He ordered. "Arm yourselves and take a day's rations. Be prepared for whatever might jump out at you."
The three soldiers nodded curtly and set about putting their squads together.
Leon divided the remainders of his platoon for a series of menial but crucial tasks, and soon his three squads, along with Walker, Simon, and Banks' squads, departed from the base. By the time the base began to settle into a routine, it was nearly midday, and the base—still on Radiant Garden time—were all getting a little tired and slaphappy.
Major Simon's report that had been sent to Radiant Garden was still on screen in the temporary communication barracks. Leon moved in front of the computer and scrolled through the file. All of the facts and information had been logged…but in a much more flowery and wordy way than Leon would have preferred.
This was where his taste in soldiers differed from Merlin's. Leon, Cid, and Tifa all had generally the same preferences for recruits in their departments: efficient, effective, and no-nonsense. There were minor differences, of course. Tifa's interns tended to be more creative in their missions, more open to discussion on a mission, and—while martial arts combatants—were always ready to run first aid stations and tend to casualties. Cid's interns were more on the mouthy side, completely and utterly anal about Gummi maintenance, and for all their laidback behavior, were oddly efficient about paperwork. Leon's department was the smallest, being as it was the hardest for recruits to get into. He had no desire to have a massive program of weapons specialists and uppity snipers on his hands. Anyone marked as his recruits had to be two steps ahead of the game, the top of their marksmanship classes, and able to take orders without any 'er's, 'but's, or needing the order repeated.
That was probably why people generally tended to put all of his soldiers into the box of 'those kids who never smile and have something up their asses'. But they had been trained to handle any situation, and handle it well. Even if Private McCallister—his first recruit—was on sabbatical at the moment, she could still shoot out the eye of a Heartless with a sniper rifle half a mile away…you pick which eye.
Closing the report, he didn't immediately leave the room. For a long moment, he just sat there, staring at the blank screen. He was getting restless, and restlessness led to recklessness. So he took a moment to pause and just listen to the sounds of the camp outside.
Boots squishing through the grass and the mud. Doors opening and closing. Crates being picked up and set down. Weapons being put together. Soldiers exchanging shorthand amongst themselves. He didn't actively listen to any of their conversations, but they seemed to range from 'where does this go?' to 'that Heartless won't know what hit it' to 'this is going to be a long two months' to 'and that's my son in the background, he just turned three, you know'.
Getting fidgety, Leon stood and left the communications barracks, moving across the camp to the commanders' quarters. They had each erected their own tent—more on Simon's request than Banks'—and Leon found some relief in not having to worry about running into any of them as he entered his tent.
He had placed the Gunblade's case on his cot, closed and locked out of habit. He hadn't had much use for the big case recently, since most of his missions had been on Radiant Garden or had been a 24 hour run on another world. It had actually taken a little digging to find the thing while he was packing for the campaign.
Needing something to take his mind off the massive amount of things they had to accomplish over the next two months, he sat down on the other end of the cot and unlatched the edges of the case. Lifting the lid, the dim lighting of the lantern overhead caught on the polished silver blade inside. Unlike some of his comrades' weapons, the Gunblade did not dismantle. It was one solid length from tip to handle.
The gun mechanism could be detached, but this was more for maintenance and cleaning than for storage. This wasn't a weapon that was built for storage. In fact, Leon mused that he hadn't put the weapon in the case like this since moving from Traverse Town to 'Hollow Bastion' nearly five years ago.
He lifted the Gunblade out of the case, his hand wrapping around the familiar grip of the handle. The weight was balanced and hung mostly around the trigger and chambers. Contrary to what most of the Alliance thought, the Gunblade wasn't as heavy as it looked. It was weighty, but solid steel tended to be. Not like Cloud's damned Tsurugi weapon. All of those multiple swords combined into one…It had to weigh nearly twice as much as the Gunblade, and swinging the thing could easily dislocate a shoulder.
Snorting at that, Leon checked all of the chambers and the trigger and the nooks and crannies, but he had cleaned the Gunblade enough to qualify it to be in a surgical operating room. Most of that was because it needed to be in top form for the mission, but part of that could be attributed to the fact that he and Tifa hadn't been speaking at the time, and he had needed something to focus on.
The Gunblade had paid the price for that.
Leon traced the sharp outline of the weapon slowly. At the end of this campaign, the weapon would have seen the end of every Heartless on MX9. He promised himself that.
..:-X-:..
That night, Tifa took the late patrol shift. One, she needed to stay out of the office for a while, for her sanity's sake. Two, she had too much nervous energy to go back to the apartment and get some overdue sleep. Three, she had always been more of an outdoor girl than an indoor one, so she needed some fresh air and room to stretch.
Radiant Garden at two am was at such a state of quiet that it calmed her nerves and silenced all of those thoughts that kept bouncing around in her skull. It was a relief to hit the 'off' switch and fall back on what she knew well: protecting this town from the Heartless. Even the Heartless seemed to be enjoying the tranquility: this week had been a record low for Heartless skirmishes in town. That was lucky, because the Alliance had been so wrapped up in paperwork and mobilization that they had been useless on the home front almost.
Tifa made her way across the industrial sector, wary of any twitching shadows lurking around the warehouses and factories. The business and military districts were low lit and quiet, with only the graveyard shifts and work-aholics making an appearance every so often. The residential and civilian zones were low lit and almost all of the windows were dark. The town was sleeping, and Tifa's body was beginning to remind her that she was going on nearly three days with roughly eight hours of power naps total.
She had just crossed into the main town area when someone moved out of the nearby bar. Two am was closing time, though it was practically empty at that point anyway. So this straggler was one of the last. Tifa just continued walking, but the man waved a hand.
"Tifa, hey, what's shakin', bacon?" He greeted, sauntering up to her.
She glanced sideways at him and stifled a groan. "Jake." She replied in greeting.
Jake Alms was the harmless, self-declared ladies' man who took to roaming around Radiant Garden and generally annoying women and men alike. He was an odd bird: skinny and tenacious and a sore thumb around the trained and disciplined soldiers of the Alliance. Tifa had never actually seen him at any kind of job, but she'd heard he worked at the local animal shelter.
"Stuck on late shift, eh?" He shoved his hands in his pockets, his dark hair tousled over his forehead.
"Volunteered." She responded, continuing on her route.
He continued to walk with her. "Ah, don't wanna go home to an empty apartment."
She rolled her eyes at him. "More like I need some fresh air."
"You say potato…" He shrugged, skipping every other step.
The rest of the district was clear, and by the time she reached the Ravine Trail, she realized that Jake was still walking with her.
"Is there a reason why you're following me?" She asked.
"Fresh air." He quipped, winking at her.
She exhaled and continued on.
"So…" He started.
Ha, she knew he wanted something.
"This Rinoa Heartilly…Is she seeing anyone?" He prompted.
Tifa groaned. "Go home, Jake."
"It's a simple question."
"That question is a lot of things. Simple isn't one of them."
"Oh, don't be a grump." He snorted. "Just because she and Leon used to swap spit a billion years ago doesn't mean she's anywhere near your league."
It was crass and inappropriate, but deep down Tifa appreciated it.
Not that she'd ever tell him that. Giving Jake positive feedback was like feeding a stray animal. Do it once, and you're stuck with him. So she kept her face neutral.
"I mean, I've seen her around, she's cute and all, but you're just…damn." He whistled.
Tifa exhaled, "Go HOME, Jake. I'm not in the mood for—"
"For being showered with compliments? You're always playing hard to get with me." He teased lightly. "So is Rinoa seeing anybody?"
"No, but she—" Tifa paused.
As much as she and Rinoa had butted heads in the past, Tifa didn't want to be spreading around that the woman still had feelings for Leon. It wasn't her place to say it and it would be embarrassing for Rinoa.
"I doubt she'd go for you." She recovered. "You're not really her type."
"I'm every woman's type." He replied, canting his head slightly.
"Consider the last man she went for." Tifa looked to Jake. "And the only thing that you and Leon have in common is a Y-chromosome…and barely that."
Jake let out a sarcastic laugh. "Ha-HA, your humor is scathing. And the condescension is always appreciated. Thanks."
She smirked as they walked through the Ravine Trail. Leon and the rest of the squads would have landed in Jamestown by now, set up camp and maybe even made contact with the natives. The walls around the world would be back up, effectively quarantining them. Now the only way to communicate with them would be through high powered radio or computer systems.
"Maybe I'll call her." Jake mused aloud. "I mean, she's got to be all messed up and heartbroken that her man has moved on to another woman."
Tifa made a disgusted noise.
"Enter Jake." He made a wild arm gesture. "I can help her mend her broken heart."
"You are a piece of work, Alms." Tifa shook her head. "I thought you always had your eye on McCallister?"
"Tabs? Yeah, but she's rejected me so often, I'm starting to think that she doesn't have feelings for me." He said.
Tifa cast him a mock-shocked look. "No!"
"Yeah!" He replied, pointing at her. "I mean, at first I thought she was just being all…McCallister-ish, but then after that whole Stasis crap, she just up and left and wouldn't return my calls."
Tifa paused and looked at Jake. "Thanks."
He blinked, "What?"
"For saying what no one else will. Stasis was crap. Thanks for that." She walked into the Dark Depths. "And I'm sure she didn't leave and ignore your calls because of you."
"I recited poetry in one of the voicemails."
"No you didn't."
"Oh ho, yes I did. Women love poetry."
Tifa gave him a flat look. "We do?"
He paused, "Sure they do."
"I can say that I've never had a man recite poetry at me or my voicemail."
"You're surprised?" He snorted. "Your track record consists of Cloud Strife and Leon. The day that either of those two muscle heads romances a woman properly is the day that you agree to a date with me."
Tifa huffed, "I'll let you know that Leon can be romantic."
"I heard that he murdered your couch with his bare hands." Was the dry reply.
Tifa deadpanned and headed back through Crystal Fissure. "Go home, Alms."
He continued to totter alongside her, chattering on about meaningless things that Tifa only half paid attention to as she finished her rounds. After wrapping up patrol, they walked along the wall of the new residential district and Tifa found her mind beginning to wander again.
"Jake, can I ask you something?"
"The answer is yes." He winked.
She exhaled in exasperation. "Seriously."
"All right, serious face." He composed himself.
"You're tricky with words and loopholes and generally manipulating people, right?"
"Ouch, go straight for the jugular, woman."
She rubbed her neck. "Hypothetically, Person A agrees to be told a secret that very significantly affects Person B by Person C, the manipulator. Person C basically tells Person A that A can never tell B what C told A otherwise…or else." She looked to Jake, "Follow?"
Both of Jake's eyebrows were up. "Following."
"But the secret is very important and ends up coming out anyway. So now A feels guilty for not telling B all the details, so A gets outside Person D to tell B in A's stead. Does that count as a loophole?"
Jake traced the air with a finger, following an imaginary flow chart in front of him. "…Yes." He answered slowly. "That is a loophole. But if B already knows the secret, why does A need to have D tell B again?"
"To ease the guilt."
Jake folded his arms. "That makes A seem pretty selfish."
Tifa sighed and scratched her head. "I know—"
"I mean, it sounds like A is easing their own burden, not taking into account how it's affecting B…If it's one of those big deal secrets."
"I know—"
"Unless there were details about the secret that B didn't know, and A couldn't tell B, so A had D do the telling." Jake indicated.
"I know—"
"Which one are you?"
"It's hypothetical."
Jake narrowed one eye at her, his gaze drifted off in thought for a moment, and then he gasped dramatically, pointing at her. "Are you pregnant!"
Tifa balked. "What? No!" She smacked his hand aside. "And don't you dare be spreading the rumor that I am, because I'm not."
Jake didn't appear to be listening. "Is it Leon's?"
Tifa knocked the side of his head hard enough to make him stagger sideways. "I am NOT pregnant, but if I was…OF COURSE it would be his."
"Geez, woman!" Jake rubbed the spot on his head. "So you're not pregnant."
"NO!"
"Then why are you being all…crazy?" He absently gestured. "Unless it's just your time of the—"
"You say 'month' and I'll make sure there are never any Jake Alms Juniors." She threatened.
Jake paused and cleared his throat, recovering. "Fine, fine, if it's not the first reason and not the second reason, then you're just insane."
"Well, I have a right. Leon is gone for the next two months and I'm pretty sure Rinoa wants to be friends with me." She shook her head. "Why am I even talking to you about this?"
"It's part of my appeal. Consider me the ever-faithful ear to listen to your woes…the dependable shoulder for crying on…the—"
"Jake?" Tifa interrupted.
He stopped his monologue, looking at her. "Yes, my sweet?"
"GO HOME!" She put her boot in his ribs, pushing him away, but not hard enough to actually do any damage.
"All right, all right. I can take a hint." He lifted his hands, stepping away from her. "But, hey, just so you know…If you get lonely in the next two months—"
Tifa glared.
He pointed down the sidewalk. "I'm going home."
As he meandered his way in the other direction, Tifa sighed, shook her head, and walked toward the apartment complex. That eccentric man-whore was right about one thing: she wasn't looking forward to going home to an empty apartment.
Honestly, she was a grown woman. She had lived on her own for years before she and Leon started sharing rent. It wasn't the being alone part that she minded. It was the lack of Leon that was bothering her. Crap, the 'off' switch had been flipped back to 'on' again.
Luckily, the physical fatigue was becoming present enough to quickly drown out the thoughts as she reached the apartment, unlocking the door and stepping inside. The empty space where the couch had been still looked alien. Duke had splayed herself across the floor in the vacated spot instead. Her tail flapped twice when Tifa entered, but she didn't get up.
Tifa snorted, "I bet you would have jumped up if I was Leon, eh?"
The dog's tailed flapped again at her voice, but still didn't even lift her head.
The chess set was sitting on the coffee table still. It was her turn now, but she made no motion to make her move. She had two months to mull over her next move. She was in no hurry.
Without turning on the lights, Tifa crossed to her bedroom, nearly tripping over a few half-packed boxes. She paused, squinting at them. She and Leon had owned that new house in the residential district for a while now, and their moving plans had been snail-slow in the wake of the war and the Alliance and everything. Moving had virtually come to a standstill since Rinoa had returned.
Maybe it was time to actually move in and start living there.
It was a thought. A thought brought on by over-thinking and under-sleeping, but still a thought to consider later. She made a mental note to debate herself about it later.
It was nearly five in the morning by the time Tifa had taken a hot shower, changed into fresh, comfortable clothes, and snacked on a peanut butter sandwich before climbing into bed. The Alliance was probably crawling already with the new information that the squads were sending in, not to mention day-to-day missions and activities that needed to be accounted for, but Tifa couldn't bring herself to go back to the office so soon.
Her cell phone was fully charged and on the bedside table. If they needed her, they would call her. Until then, she was going to get eight good hours of sleep.
Clearly no one told her subconscious that, because she dreamed solidly of the house and moving and…the study room…
By the time she actually fell asleep, the sun was beginning to rise, and Duke abruptly started barking at a bird that perched outside the window. Tifa groaned and put her pillow over her head. This was going to be a long two months.
..:-X-:..
A/N: I think this serves as a filler chapter. It may have been a little slow paced, but things will pick up again soon. Plus I wanted to throw Jake in there. He was an occasional OC who popped up in my Lefa ditty collections, and since McCallister is AWOL so far in this story, I threw him in for giggles.