Disclaimer: To Be Human is a fanfiction written in the Compilation of FFVII, with respect to the original canon and in accordance with the permissions of Fair Use as a transformative work. No profit is being made and the author only claims original characters used within to help flesh out the story.

A/N: At long last, one of the people you guys keep asking about returns to the fic.

After the mess in Modeoheim, Cloud wasn't particularly worried about the escort mission he'd been sent on with his new team. It felt… wrong, a little, to be out with a new group. But the captain was a lot nicer than his had been, and without speaking ill of the dead he could still honestly say they hadn't been friends anyway. At least this time there was no baggage, and he could fall into step with the comfort afforded by more experience.

And then a Turk showed up, bright eyed and long haired with a shotgun slung over her shoulder. That turned out to be her codename, in fact, which wasn't particularly inventive in Cloud's opinion. Not that he said as much, a bit more busy being torn between unease at her presence and annoyance that it apparently made the doctor relax. Sure, they weren't SOLDIER, but they were still soldiers and had all seen combat. One Turk wasn't that big a deal.

It didn't do any good to complain all the same, and he fell into step, loosely flanking the doctor with the Turk on point. She'd received short, crisp answers to any questions, though it was hard to tell if the others were insulted too or if they just didn't like Turks. Either was possible and perfectly reasonable in Cloud's opinion; Commander Tseng had seemed nice enough on the Modeoheim mission, but the trooper had yet to meet any other Turks like him. Personally, he'd have been fine never meeting another Turk, but that apparently wasn't his luck.

There was a sudden prickle along the back of his neck, one that years growing up in the mountains and foraging in the forests around it had sharply honed. Predator, it warned. Something was there, something stronger, and it meant harm. "Capt-"

No time for warnings. Two men came out, cutting in the middle of their path. They had the calm of those expecting an easy victory, and it made him bristle even more. What was it with people assuming troopers were pushovers?

The Turk offered them a wide smile, but the way she'd shifted her posture suggested she was expecting a fight. "Gentlemen, we've got a train to catch. I'm afraid you're going to have to move."

"We'll be happy to. Just hand over the woman and you can move right along."

"That wasn't a royal 'we' boys." Her voice hardened, a fluid sort of shrug bringing her weapon back around to the front. "Move."

"We weren't making a request." Both men were armed and brought their guns up and ready as well. "Hand her over or die."

"Oh my god." The doctor went pale, staring at the men in horror, but there was no time to coddle her through it.

"We hand her over and what, you're just letting us go?" Almost too fast to be seen, the shotgun was up, cocked, and one of the men was falling before the crack of the shot had even faded. "I doubt that."

Seeing the other man ready to shoot and having no idea if the Turk had modified her weapon at all - it looked like a hunting rifle, but there was no telling - Cloud got in a second head shot to eliminate the remaining threat. He felt a little sick, and a little proud at the sharp look he was given by the Turk. "You're faster than I expected."

"You too." He breathed, forcing himself to calm down. He was combat trained, damn it. Besides, the Turk had a point; there was no way those guys would have just let them walk. "Nice rifle."

That bright grin resurfaced and she nodded, patting it. "Yeah it is. C'mon boys, we better move. There's probably backup if that's who I thought it was."

"Right." The captain touched the doctor's arm, urging her forward. "We need to move, Doc."

"Right… right."

With the buzz of adrenaline, Cloud found himself focusing even more, noticing things he hadn't. Like the earpiece colored to match their Turk escort's skin, which she'd touched twice now under the guise of brushing at her hair. Clever. He wondered who was listening on the other side. Another Turk, most likely, but even knowing the Turks were aware was a comfort. Just in case things went bad.

"Oi! Doc ahead, one suit, three cannon fodder."

Cannon fodder? Temper surging, Cloud readied his gun again. "Why don't you let me get those and I'll catch up?"

"No can do, we've all got the same goal here, kid - gotta work together," Shotgun pointed out, growling softly when someone came from another direction. "Besides, it looks like we're flanked."

"Cut 'em down, we don't have time for this," the captain barked, opening fire.

They took a couple down, but more were coming. Not so fast they couldn't shoot them down, but it was beginning to look like that wasn't their goal. And Shotgun seemed to realize it at the same time. "They're trying make us miss the train - get her on it."

"But-"

"Go!"

"You heard the lady." A final shot and the captain was urging them back around to get the shocked doctor moving again.

Not two steps later, one of them went down hard with a spray of things Cloud didn't look too closely at, shot through the head to a chant of 'Down with the ShinRa!'

Sounded like they were dealing with AVALANCHE; Cloud had heard stories, and wasn't too eager to meet them. But that wasn't a choice now, not with one of his team dead and more gunfire to be heard. One clipped Cloud's side, his mind distantly processing that his vest must have kept it from piercing him through but there would be spectacular bruising. The impact drove his breath out of him and he stumbled even though he managed to stay more or less on his feet. Getting his rifle up, he managed a shot that was a waste of ammo, barely catching the guy's arm. He kept moving, swinging his weapon at the captain like a club and staggering him enough to nearly reach the doctor.

Two shots through his chest and the guy was down, making terrible sounds that Cloud forced himself to tune out. Shotgun closed the distance between them, looking over the captain as well. "Status?"

"Non-fatal shot in the side." Cloud coughed tightly, getting a slow breath and swallowing hard. "Caught in my vest. I won't slow us down. We're too close to the train to stop."

The Turk frowned, looking ahead to the station. For a moment, she touched at her ear piece, then shook her head. "Detour around. There's other ways to catch the train."

"Sure, but can we get there in time?" Cloud frowned, still trying to even his breathing. "We've been slowed down, this is slowing us down."

"It'll wait," she insisted, completely confident. "Come on, this way."

She didn't wait for agreement, taking charge to physically get the doctor moving again, away from the main road. Surprisingly, it was Dr. Rayleigh who managed to speak up first. "At least tell us what we're doing!"

"They've obviously got our route marked out, and if we go through that big an open space they're free to come at us from all sides," she explained, still urging them on. "Even with the train held, we're down a guard and vulnerable. And since we're on defense, we have to fight off everything successfully the whole time - they only need to get lucky once. If there's a way to boost our chances - like this one - we'd be idiots not to take it. And my momma didn't raise a fool."

Even with his helmet, it was clear the captain didn't like the change, but as the outcome was the same and it was solid reasoning, she just got a curt nod of agreement. The trio flanked the doctor again, hurrying through the side streets with Shotgun leading once more. When she came to a sharp halt, bringing her weapon around, the two infantry readied theirs without question.

Unfortunately, the hulking man who stepped into the street blocked their bullets with the flat of his blade. Black fatigues weren't a good identifier, but it was an easy enough guess he was with AVALANCHE. "Put your weapons down and hand the woman over."

The Turk didn't even try to negotiate, but the bullets were deflected again with all the ease and finesse of a SOLDIER. Impressive, of course, but not something you ever wanted to see in an enemy. There was the sudden thick, static feeling of magic being used, a materia embedded in the hilt of the man's sword glowing bright before a robed figure came to his side. Cloud took in the wicked scythe along with the somewhat otherworldly appearance of the summon and whispered a prayer to Odin. It wasn't - couldn't really be - Hel's Hand, but whatever else the thing was, it was not to be taken lightly.

"Kill the summoner, take out the summon, right?" The captain's mutterings were likely more to himself, but Cloud shook his head.

"Depends on the summoning, but it's a place to start." Unfortunately, they both had two actual weapons - rifle and nightstick - neither of which was going to do anything against this guy. "Bullets won't do it."

"They would if we could get that off — whoa!"

A sudden crackle of lightning interrupted, the Turk lunging forward with a shorter range attack and catching the man off guard. Given the summon's nature, it didn't come to his aid and his sword clattered to the ground as he grappled with her.

Cloud saw his chance, ducking down around the two and heaving the sword up. His blood thumped in his ears, everything else seeming to slow down for a moment as he swung it around, putting his body into one broad strike as he turned. Dimly, he heard a shrieking noise and a thick, damp sound.

A shout.

Gunshots.

For a moment, everything stopped, and he marveled at the gleam of light along the blade, wondering at the dim haze of blue. Everything was tinted blue, what was-

"— STRIFE!"

Cloud blinked, and the world was moving again, sight and sound back into the range of normal. He swallowed thickly, mouth dry and his body feeling like he'd just gone through his first day of boot camp again. "S-sir?"

"Shiva bless, he's together still?" That was the Turk, who was currently letting the doctor patch up her arm. She was watching him closely, but her relief was as clear on her face as it was in her voice. "You alright, kid?"

"I… yes?" The blue was gone. The summon was gone, and the summoner was on the ground with a slice clear across his back that Cloud didn't examine too closely. "We need to get on the train…"

His captain snorted, and a touch to his hair told him that his helmet had come off. "Oh… where's my helmet? Did something…?"

"Took it off of you, it's fine." The captain huffed, muttering under his breath.

Cloud wasn't sure what to make of it all, and it didn't help that he was so tired. All the adrenaline from earlier, all the anger and frustration and admittedly some fear, was just… gone. He felt hollow. "What happened?"

"It looked like you hit a limit." Shotgun frowned. "I didn't think they'd taught cadets that."

"Cadets… oh, no I never… I wasn't actually in the academy," he admitted, able to feel some emotion after all, the bitter disappointment and some distant embarrassment. "I got some basic training and classes, and tried for the exams but…"

"You're not the first or last kid to fail the SOLDIER exam, there's less than a hundred still in the company now," the Turk informed him. "Before the war, there were even fewer. They lowered the bar some to keep the ranks flush."

"Oh." Somehow, he'd thought there were more than that. But his mind finally revisited the first thing she'd said. "A limit?"

"We can talk about it on the train," she gestured ahead. "Come on. They held it, we need to go."

"Why did they hold it?" Dr. Rayleigh frowned, tucking her hair back and turning to look at Cloud critically. "Can you walk?"

"Pretty sure." Cloud heaved himself upright, blinking owlishly a moment, but the world stayed put. He was weak, sure, but he could walk. "Yeah. Not sure how combat worthy I am, though."

"That's fine. We can call for reinforcements." They headed for the train, getting on and making their way to the secure, private car ShinRa had arranged.

The doctor insisted Cloud sit and be looked over, and he cooperated for lack of alternatives. When he didn't have to answer questions, he kept his eyes on the Turk, watching her pace as she tried her contacts. Apparently, an actual call didn't go through, so she tapped out a quick text. There was no missing the tension that stiffened her frame at the response she received.

Closing her PHS, Shotgun looked to them seriously. "We're going into Midgar. Another set of handpicked guards and operatives will meet us at the station."

The captain frowned. "I should be reporting to Colonel Heidegger."

"This is no longer Heidegger's operation. The army has been infiltrated and the Junon base is has been breached."

As a coastal city, Junon had the questionable benefit of an entire side on the waterfront; no one would be coming through there without a boat, which meant port access. And while it was not always patrolled with the strict efficiency it was assigned, no one was going to walk a couple dozen unregistered, armed fighters through without notice. Coming up from the village was a little more flexible, but only just. The most obvious route would be coming in through any of the gates or side streets, even sneaking in via the train. It was much easier to pull off any number of excuses. But if you were fast and coordinated enough, it was possible to weave through the ranks of students at the Junon Military Academy and cross through to easily access to the actual base.

With the intel provided by their sponsor and the constant drilling Shears himself oversaw, AVALANCHE was perfectly capable of doing exactly that. Slowly, they replaced key positions of ShinRa troopers with their own people, taking advantage of the fact that troopers were all dressed to blend together with no identifiers - it was ridiculously easy to make the substitutions. After some brief study ahead of time, their members were in and none the wiser, covering for much more specialized positions as snipers and hackers moved into their own positions.

A very small force was spared to go after the doctor they had learned would be traveling to Midgar under minimal guard. The knowledge and any potential hard copies of information she would have were too tempting not to make an effort to take. But the bulk of their people were divided for a simultaneous attack, attempting to capture the cannon and assassinate President Shinra. The snipers were foiled by the quick action of the Turk security team, but the number of replaced troopers at the cannon made it a potential steal. The level of threat that presented seemed to turn out the best the base and academy had to offer, but they had a far greater ratio of students to instructors, and that left the base itself largely in the hands of those students.

They were well trained, of course. ShinRa was very good at mass producing killers, after all. But real life experience always trumped book knowledge. And Shears had a solid dozen fighters with years of battle experience at his back. They cut a wide path through the base, wide open for further infiltration. It looked very likely that Fuhito would be following himself with his Ravens. Not too bright, but they took orders very well. Shears wasn't entirely sure what his goal was, he was a thinker and not a fighter, but his only concern right then was his own mission.

Everyone had their own parts to play, and they would chip away at the ShinRa until they collapsed in on themselves.

There was something very strange going on in the mainframe of the Junon base when Fuhito investigated it. Random sections seemed locked or faulty when pressed, some parts of the programs he had been expecting not registering as having ever existed. There was enough of a base that Fuhito was able to send instructions to Shears for what to do when he made his way into the actual heart of their operations, able to access the physical controls and manually put in the direct instructions. The former gangster was not particularly impressive intellectually, but he managed well enough with clear instructions. It was irritating not to do so himself, of course, but there was one definite upside.

Fuhito found himself with direct access to the primary controls of communications on base, shutting them off and cutting off power to strategic points of the buildings. Flanked by his Ravens, the environmentalist made his way to the room that he had tracked the President himself to.

He took a moment to savor how very angry the old man was at having himself interrupted, red in the face and glowering at anyone who met his eyes. The suit with him that had managed his protection had the slightest signs of strain around his eyes, perhaps weariness from the assault, or even mere frustration. The thought that the leader of the Turks might be becoming a bit run down was an unexpected delight he very much appreciated. Tired men made mistakes, sometimes very costly ones. And no one who stepped up into his place could be so seasoned and efficient. Another weak link in ShinRa's armor.

Further accessing the systems, he turned the cameras on himself and took over the monitors to have a nice little talk. "You seem woefully unprepared to deal with these troubles, Mr. President."

"You," he rose from the chair he'd only just sat in, lips curled in a sneer and pointing at the screen. "Who are you? Tell me who dares to come into ShinRa's base and tries to take what's ours."

"You have a great deal of misconceptions about what is and is not yours, Mr. President," Fuhito noted mildly, not missing the sharp look the Turk was giving him. Memorizing every detail of his appearance, no doubt, though it would do him no good. "Don't fret so. Things will become clear soon, and become as they should be. Soon you will begin to understand the bigger picture. There will be no more conflict when we return to the Planet. Do not worry."

"You're insane," the blonde with him muttered it with a surprising amount of conviction. Perhaps it made her feel better to believe that.

No matter. The will of the Planet would be carried out. "You have a great purpose ahead of you, Mr. President. We will guide you. Fufufu… all will be well in time, don't worry. We have only the best of the Planet in mind."

Fuhito ended his visible feed, though he listened to them a little longer. The President blustered orders to call out their finest warrior, their great silver demon who had singlehandedly beaten an entire nation into submission. As he was closing the connection entirely, he caught note of them having trouble getting a response, blaming it on the downed communications.

With the rumors he'd been hearing, Fuhito wondered how much that truly had to do with the general's sudden lack of interest in rushing to the President's aid. Perhaps that too could be exploited. With some careful prodding, it truly did seem the company would quickly ruin itself.