Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII. I depend on my daughter, Angeal Valentine, and on Bjanik for all my information on the subject.
A/N—About the last chapter, it occurred to me that, like –CNFB-, you too might be unfamiliar with shock, so here's some background info. Tessa has gone into "hypovolemic shock." This is the most common type of shock and is completely unrelated to "emotional shock" that results from an emotionally traumatic event (like Sephiroth dying). Hypovolemic shock occurs when there's insufficient blood circulating in the body. Without enough blood, too little oxygen is transported to the cells, the mitochondria then don't produce enough ATP, cell membranes are damaged, and acids build up in the body because the liver doesn't have enough oxygen to use in removing the acids. Basically the body shuts down. This type of shock is generally the result of blood loss—Sephiroth would certainly recognize the signs.
A/N—Angeal Valentine has been begging me for the story to return to the Turks, so this week we're back in New Banora. Why does she get her wish? Well, the answer is at the end of this chapter.
(3 am, Mideel; 1 am, Midgar; 9 pm, Gongaga; 5 pm, Wutai)
Vincent Valentine entered the huge mako pool room and stood aghast. He had heard from Rude that the natural pool was five times larger than that at the Nibelheim reactor, but this body of mako wasn't a pool, it was a lake! All the Turks, with the exception of Rude, who'd seen it before, were amazed. If the island weren't geologically unstable, there was enough mako here to build a reactor that could light most of the eastern continent! No wonder Old Man Shinra had been interested in Banora; it was a power treasure trove.
Suddenly Vincent felt himself mentally kicked. Chaos was trying to get his attention, as was Galian Beast, his "dog"—must be smelling something—but Tseng was speaking and giving orders for the Turks to spread out through New Banora. Rude's friend, Vanessa-7, waved her hands indicating roughly what was down each of the corridors that branched out of the pool room. Rude took the woman's hand and went back the way the Turks had entered. Vincent had a vague impression Rude was going to Hollander's laboratory. Parties of Turks moved out into the various corridors. Most of the Soldiers had remained top-side to pick off escaping fighters and aid in cleanup when the troops from Mideel Base arrived. After all, narrow concrete corridors rarely lent themselves to sword work.
"Vince, we're taking the training room facilities and armory." Verdot nudged his friend. No reaction. Oh well. Wouldn't be the first time Valentine hadn't responded to something Verdot had said. "Come on, man. This is old-time, shoot-em-up stuff."
Inside Vincent's head, however, another conversation was going on. The pool can't remain here. Others with evil intentions will attempt to use it for their own nefarious schemes.
Vincent shook his head slightly as if to clear it. Since when does anyone use the word nefarious? Vincent's question was met with silence from Chaos. Fine. Whatever… So what can be done?
The land must be raised such that the mako does not gather here any longer.
I see, and can you do that?
Perhaps.
And how do you propose to 'raise the land'? More silence from Chaos. Great. Just let me know when you decide to do something—don't push me aside and take over. As if Chaos had ever stopped to take Vincent into account. Well, Vincent supposed, there might be a first time—even for this…
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Tseng stood in Lynette Hiland's monitor-filled office and glared at the broken glass. He knew Rude had needed to destroy all the monitors, but Tseng rather wished Rude had at least left a few of the machines operational. Tseng could see how convenient Ms. Hiland's arrangement had been. He tapped the communicator around his ear with the code for Rude's PHS.
"Rude."
Good. "Where are you?"
"Hollander's lab. I'm grabbing his notes for Dr. Romera. I'm sure she'll want to read all Hollander's documents. Take a few bottles of his stuff, too… And now we're going into his office—nuts! There are filing cabinets in here! Gonna need help with them…"
"Okay. I'll send you some bodies… Any trouble getting there?"
"None. The corridors we were in were completely empty, as if all the clones had run for it."
"What's your friend Seven say?" There was a pause as Rude presumably consulted with the clone.
"She agrees, but insists her sister Vanessas are probably hiding in a room somewhere together. She wants to find them…"
" 'Sister Vanessas'? Never mind. I don't even want to know… All right, you can find them, but later. I need her where she can 'put the monsters to sleep' as she promised."
"Right. We'll be finished here soon. Send the bodies. Out…"
Behind him, Tseng could hear the contents of drawers being rifled; Rufus Shinra was exploring Hiland's desk and covering the two chairs in the room with papers and files he'd removed. Sitting cross-legged on the desk was Rufus' new personal bodyguard, Verdot's daughter, Kamui. Given the amount of glass on the floor, the desk was probably the only safe place to sit. Kamui had taken out one of her swords and was removing a nick in its cutting edge with a small whetstone and oil while she hummed to herself. Tseng decided that, like Sephiroth, she probably needed to be killing something.
Tseng tapped the code for Reno's PHS. "Report."
"Bossman! Good to hear from ya, yo! We just drove past Apple Town. No lights on anywhere."
"Any cars, activity of any sort?"
"Nothing at all, yo. We're gonna leave the RV about where I had the listening truck, then head in on foot."
"Good. Secure the Apple Town headquarters. I want it locked down tight. No one in or out. Capture Lynette Hiland—alive if at all possible."
"You got it… FYI, boss, we're almost for sure gonna need back up here—guys with guns or Soldiers with swords. Depending on what we find, maybe even a truck."
"Right. I'll see what I can do." Tseng glanced at his watch. "Trucks from Mideel Base should be on the way by now. I'll send you one."
"Thanks… We'll report ASAP."
Tseng gave a small sigh. He hated being away from the action, but someone had to coordinate things…
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"Here." Vanessa-7 appeared with a dolly at the entrance to Hollander's office. "For the filing cabinets."
"Thanks." Rude took hold of the handle of the cart, moved it into the small room, and tried to figure out how he was going to move the crammed cabinets onto the dolly—maybe take the drawers out first. Suddenly three sturdy young Turks appeared in the door. Rude decided to leave them the task of manhandling the cabinets, with or without their drawers. "Get these filing cabinets to the surface." He ordered then turned to Vanessa-7. "Seven, is there an elevator to ground level around here anywhere?"
"Hm hum. Back that way." Vanessa-7 waved her arm in the direction of the hallway away from the mako pool.
"Thanks." He looked at his moving guys. "You think you can handle that?"
"Yes, sir!" Great, enthusiasts—eager to please—even after hours of fighting… Rude just hoped they'd manage to get the cabinets to the surface.
"Come on, Seven." Rude extended his hand to the clone, but Vanessa-7 shook her head and led the way back to Hollander's sample prep room. Rude followed her curiously; he hadn't expected her to go there. She stopped before a tall, metal supply cabinet, opened the doors, and stood gazing inside with a rather sad expression on her face. Rude placed his hand on her shoulder. "What is it, Seven?"
She turned her head to look at Rude. "I never thought I'd be the one to dispose of someone else."
"Seven, did you ever shoot that gun I gave you?"
She shook her head with small jerks. "No-o." Rude wasn't surprised. He couldn't imagine her harming anyone, anything for that matter either.
Rude gathered the clone into his arm and kissed the top of her head. "It's okay, baby. We're still alive and things'll work themselves out." He could feel her head nod against his chest and her arms wrap around his waist. Vanessa-7's head tilted up to look at Rude—he didn't like the sadness in her eyes—and he bent his head, took possession of her mouth, and pulled her tight against him. He could feel her hands creeping up the back of his rubbery night suit, perhaps looking for the zipper again. Rude's hand slipped under the edge of Vanessa-7's too small, hand-me-down, tee-shirt. He gathered her skin between his fingers, pushed her bottom toward him with his prosthetic, wedged his knee between her legs, and could feel her moving against his thigh. Rude broke the kiss to pull her shirt over Vanessa-7's head. Her skin gleamed at him, and her breasts spilled out of the bra. Rude lowered his head to tease her nipple through the lace, and hardened it to a peak with the scrape of his teeth. He wanted to slip inside of her right there. The thought of the back room—and the lock on its door—swept invitingly across his mind. There was no Reno this time to remind him he should stop... Crap… I am going to kill him, and he is not even here to die!
Vanessa-7 pulled back from Rude and took his face between her hands. "What? Why'd you stop? I want you to… do things…"
Rude nodded. "And I want to, baby, believe me, I want to." Re-no! "We've got to get back to business… Later though. I promise!"
Vanessa-7 looked away from Rude. She seemed sadder than she had before. "Please don't make me promises. A promise to a clone is easy to break…"
"No way, Seven!" Rude gathered her close, her breasts pushed into him, and her arms wrapped around his neck again. "We'll do this right—lots of time and comfort—not tables and boxes and hard cement... I am not letting you get away from me any time soon!" Vanessa-7 smiled at him, then kissed Rude gently. To Rude it seemed that everything she did had a gentle quality to it. He released her then bent to pick up her shirt. He handed it to her to put on; he wasn't sure his prosthetic wouldn't rip it if he tried to help her with it.
"Back to work…" Vanessa-7 sighed then bent her knees and pulled a clear bottle of solution from the bottom shelf of the cabinet. "This is Dr. Hollander's 'disposal solution' mixture. It'll put the monsters to sleep—permanently." She handed the bottle to Rude.
Rude turned the bottle around in his hands. It was quart-sized and presumably filled with some kind of poison. Other than the word "Disposal" handwritten on the glass, there were no labels with formulas that might indicate what it contained. Well, he supposed, it might just wake up the monsters, but he rather doubted it. "All right… Is this enough?"
Vanessa-7 shook her head and reached back into the cabinet. "We'll need more. Here…" She then filled Rude's arms and her own with as many bottles as they could carry.
It struck Rude that Hollander had been prepared to do a great deal of "disposing." He raised an eyebrow at Vanessa-7 and mumbled around a bottle. "Think this'll be enough? You know where any more of those dollies are stored? We kinda need one."
Vanessa-7 shook her head, just managing to not lose a bottle piled on top. "No more dollies, but we can grab Dr. Hollander's wheeled chair from his office. That'll help."
"Right. So where are we taking this stuff anyway?"
"The control room for the tubes is off the pool room, near Big Sister's office."
"Let's go then and get that chair before I drop one of these."
Vanessa-7 shook her head. "Don't. Breaking one of these bottles would be bad."
Rude took a half step back in surprise. He didn't even want to know. "Ri-ight."
Back in Hollander's office, Rude and Vanessa-7 loaded the bottles into an empty cardboard box then put the box on the chair. Rude noted that Hollander's file cabinets were gone. Soon they were on their way back to the pool room.
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"Commander? May I speak with you for a minute?" Blond Elena appeared in the monitor-room doorway. Tseng, Rufus, and Kamui raised their heads in surprise. Rufus raised an eyebrow, glanced at Tseng and noted his stunned expression, then nodded to Kamui to follow him out. Kamui looked rebellious but went. Rufus closed the door behind her.
"Commander, I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier." Elena had stepped into the room, but she remained several feet from Tseng.
Tseng's head came up. "Apologize? To which behavior are you referring?"
Color flared in Elena's cheeks, and she looked down and studied her feet. Was he really going to make her say it? "The part where I lied to you and told you I wasn't hurt… A Turk should never lie to her commander. I just didn't want you to think badly of me." Elena raised her head but found she couldn't see Tseng clearly. Damn! She ran a hand across her eyes only to find it came back wet with tears. This really wasn't what she'd wanted to say, and it certainly wasn't coming out right!
Tseng shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "Trainee Elena, think about it. How many missions have you been on? How much real experience do you have in fighting? Did you, or did you not, just lose your sister a few hours ago?" Considering all that, Tseng thought the girl was rather lucky to be standing in the room at all. "In truth, when I ordered every available Turk in Midgar on this mission, I probably should have excluded the trainees, but I needed every single person. You're actually lucky to be alive. I haven't had time to do an accurate count, but I know that at least two of your fellow trainees are dead."
Elena gasped. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't know." She whirled to leave, her hair spinning around her shoulders.
Tseng's brow knotted, and his breath caught in his throat. He didn't want her to go. "Elena, stop. Don't leave just yet." He raised a hand toward her.
Elena looked slowly over her shoulder back at her commanding officer. She could read the conflicting emotions on his face, in his body posture. She was across the room in his arms before either of them was sure what had happened. "Tseng!" Elena wrapped her arms around Tseng's neck and pulled his head down to her mouth.
Tseng tried to pull back, but the girl just kissed him harder, more urgently! Tseng reminded himself, she's so young—sixteen!—and hurting. Her sister had just died—you can't take advantage, Tseng! But his arms wrapped themselves around her waist and behind her head and pulled her closer to him. Tseng could feel his body hardening at her nearness. When Elena opened her mouth and stroked her tongue along his, all rational thought tried to flee from Tseng's mind. Tseng leaned back. "Elena, you know now is not the time for this…"
Elena's head nodded in short jerks. "I know. But I wanted you to know that I've thought about it," she glanced at the ceiling—be honest, she reminded herself. "That is, while I was shooting, I was thinking, and maybe I wasn't hitting things too well, but…" She winced and looked up at him. "Something could happen, and I might never get the chance to tell you. That is…" Elena lowered a hand from his neck, leaned back a bit, and pulled it up along Tseng's groin. Good, he wanted her, too; wow, he was, well, impressive! The breath left Tseng's body in a rush, and Elena smiled. She paused and took a deep breath—there was no air in the room! "Commander Tseng, I love you." With that declaration, Elena was out of the room without a backward glance, the door left slightly ajar.
Tseng gasped in surprise. What was that now? Seven surprises in two days! "Elena!" Tseng's hands fell back to his sides, empty. "Elena, I love you, too." Tseng wanted to call her back, take her up on that stroking, but he couldn't. Did they love each other, or did she want comfort in a time of crisis while he hadn't had sex in, sheesh, how long had it been? He had thought he was immune to this sort of thing. Tseng shook his head. It was all happening just too fast! Tseng made himself, and her, a promise. When we get back to Midgar, Elena, we'll take this slow and figure it out. We'll give these emotions the attention they deserve, but for now, Tseng, just get back to work…
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"Well, whaddaya know." Rufus Shinra leaned against the landing railing high over the New Banora mako pool with his arms crossed over his chest, but he wasn't looking at the shimmering wealth below him. Rather his eyes followed the young, blond Turk who had rushed out of Lynette Hiland's office without a backward glance. She'd been crying and smiling at the time! The words, "Elena, I love you, too," had followed the girl out of the room.
"Hm?" The Sephiroth clone clearly hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. Kamui had completed sharpening her white-handled sword and was now seated in the middle of the landing floor with her back toward Tseng's door. She was rubbing her black-handled katana on her whetstone. Rufus noticed that from her position on the floor she had a clear view of the entire chamber. Good bodyguard position—even when sharpening her swords—but she hadn't reacted to the running Turk.
"Do you miss things a lot?" Rufus was curious. Most women noticed things like the little vignette he'd just seen.
"What things?" Kamui was squinting ferociously at her sword. It seemed to be offending her somehow, then Rufus remembered. The girl was blind in one eye. It probably took a fair amount of concentration to do what she was doing. Rufus walked over to her and gently took the sword from her fingers. "Hey! What're you doing? Gimme that back!"
"No. I want to talk to you."
Kamui frowned. "Bout what?"
"Well, for starters, what do you plan to do after we finish here in Mideel? Are you coming to Midgar, as Verdot said, to join the Turks?"
Kamui's frown deepened. "I don't really wanna, but the Boss wants me to kind of 'follow in his footsteps.' Me, though, I like swords, and I like working on swords, and I like fighting with swords." She paused, just a bit embarrassed. "Don't tell the Boss, okay, but he thinks I was missing for two weeks last year—just wandering around, ya know? I wasn't though." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. Rufus found himself leaning toward her to hear her secret. "I was studying with a Wutainese swordsmith on the other side of Mideel from here. Don't tell him, okay?!" Kamui searched Rufus' face for his reaction. "You think that's weird?"
"No. Not at all. I like swords, too—I have several quite valuable ones—but when I fight, I always use a shotgun. I'm not really very good with a sword, nor with a gun, so I stick with shotguns. Can't hardly miss at close range with multiple lead pellets." He handed her back the black-handled katana, and Kamui nodded and slipped the sword into its scabbard on her back. When she moved as if to stand, Rufus reached for her hand and helped her to her feet.
"Thanks." Kamui reached a hand toward Rufus' shot gun. "May I?"
Rufus raised an eyebrow in surprise. No one had ever wanted to see his shotgun before! He suddenly hoped it was clean enough to pass muster by someone who probably knew what they were doing when they inspected it; wasn't as if he hadn't been shooting the thing though! Better turn this conversation around. "You didn't answer my question. Are you coming back to Midgar?" Rufus unslung the weapon from around his shoulders and handed it to the girl.
Kamui frowned at the gun then broke it open to make sure it wasn't loaded. "I guess so, though I'm not sure what I wanna do. I'm kinda hoping that the Boss'll wanna come to Midgar with me if I do decide to go…"
"I see." Rufus considered. He was surprised to find he wanted her to come to Midgar. "Well, if you do come, you can have the job as my bodyguard." He laughed slightly. "I know it pays well… Verdot's welcome back with the Turks anytime, of course."
Kamui closed the shotgun, one finger running over the intricate swirling engraving on the barrels. "Ni-ice. Shinra H&H Over and Under." She glanced up at Rufus. "Only the best, hn?"
"As you say, only the best." Rufus smiled at the girl. He took the weapon from her fingers with his right hand and her right hand with his left. He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingertips. When she ducked her head, her long, silver bangs hid the confusion he glimpsed in her face. Rufus started slightly. The motion of her hair increased her resemblance to the General. "Yes. Only the best." He smiled to himself.
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Everything was quiet. No lights. No cars. No movement. Just too damn quiet. Like the night they'd been captured—that in itself made the skin between Reno's shoulder blades itch. Never a good omen… Reno and his fellow Turks, Landers and Gonzales, had parked the RV along the road, climbed white-painted fences, then walked cautiously toward the Apple Town commune staying under cover. Now they were hiding in a small grove of trees and checking out the situation in the small community across a dip in the land from them. The scene was lit only by the large moon that was still occasionally obscured by clouds, even after Sephiroth had cleared most of them from the sky. The General was a cloud herder—Reno rather liked that idea—kind of matched the man's hair. Yeah. All that silver hair that Reno had always wanted to wrap himself up in—maybe the General's "sister's" hair sometime. He guessed Rufus would tire of his "bodyguard" shortly, and he, Reno, planned to be there to pick up the pieces. Yeah, good plan—just wait… For now, though, better get his mind back on Apple Town and the present situation.
Less a "town" and more of an over-sized farm, Reno had briefed his team on the Apple Town layout he'd learned from Rude's tour of the place several days before. While Reno hadn't actually seen Apple Town himself, Rude had sketched the layout for him. A winding road wove between white, barn-like buildings. On the left of the road were dormitories with small single rooms for females, then buildings with apartments for families—a school and daycare for children and a large cafeteria was in the middle of these buildings—and finally dormitories for single men. The Apple Townians kept the men and women separated—Reno had smirked at the idea—as if distance would keep people from getting together. The first building on the road's right was Lynette Hiland's administration building, with other buildings for apple processing, storage, and farm equipment and cars, work and repair shops, even coops for animals farther along the road's right hand side. Each building's function was painted in large black letters near its front door—terribly convenient to Reno's way of thinking.
"Too damn quiet, yo. You'd have thought somebody would be up what with all the fireworks from the fight earlier." Reno's fingers itched for a cigarette. He hadn't had one in days. "Gonzo, can I get a cig and a light?"
Gonzales, the Turk who had driven the RV, growled at Reno. He hated that nickname, and he knew Reno knew he hated it. "Do you mind?! Here… Don't let anybody spot the fire, man." Gonzales was one of the best executive protection drivers in the Turks. He was also one of the ugliest men Reno had ever seen—tall and thickly built, with a scarred face, and without the little finger on his left hand. Landers, Gonzales' partner, by contrast, was dark-skinned and handsome. He had occasionally been tapped for "evening gown duty" with the now-dead Jayna. The nickname "Lando" had been plastered on Landers from day one in the Turks. It had been something of a joke to compare the good-looking Landers to the old man, Londo Shinra.
Reno took a drag on the cigarette, careful to stay behind his tree. Oh, that was better! Now maybe he could think clearly. "Bossman ordered us to lock down the headquarters and capture Lynette Hiland alive. We'll need to go through her papers, grab her computer and her secretary's... Ya know, I'll bet Hiland's office is bugged. When Rude was on the wire in there, I kept picking up static, especially when he was in her office." Reno paused and considered. "Come to think of it, the old lady never did show him her place like I wanted… I got the impression, though, she may have had a bedroom in there somewhere… Spread out around the admin building, check it out for activity, and look for a back entrance. If everything seems quiet, we'll go in."
"Ya know, Reno, there are what, a couple of hundred people living here. If we wake them up and they get hostile, we won't stand much of a chance." Lando, always the nervous one. Gonzo helped keep him calm. Once things got hot, both men were steady—good in a fight.
The corner of Reno's mouth quirked. "Yeah, I know. That's why we brought lots of guns and ammo… Ready?" Both men nodded. "Let's go."
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Vincent and Verdot had headed in the opposite direction from Rude and the clone in the underground complex. Rufus Shinra's orders had been to destroy the "fighters" and let the "Banorans" live. That made anyone who attacked them eligible for termination. With reloaded weapons, the two men had set out in search of a target-rich environment.
"You know, Vince," Verdot stood with his left arm extended around the edge of a wall firing a gun at several clones who shot at them about a hundred feet away down a corridor. "You never told me how Hojo managed to take you prisoner in the first place."
Vincent stood firing with his right arm extended around the edge of the opposite wall of the same corridor, but he didn't answer his friend.
"Really?!" Verdot had long ago perfected the art of carrying on one-half of a conversation when talking to Vincent Valentine. "Well, that must have been some fight! What'd he do? Fill you full of tranqs?"
… Bang!... Cerberus' three barrels went off, loud in the echoing corridor.
"Figured it was something like that." Verdot decided he'd gotten about as much info on that topic as he was going to get. He switched subjects. "Sephiroth's your son, hn? How'd it feel to wake up and find you had grown son?"
… Bang! Bang!...
"Right." One more subject. "The girl, Lucrecia Crescent. Were you in love with her? Why didn't you get in touch with me? I'd have gone with you to Nibelheim. Things could have been different, you know…"
Vincent's head drooped. Yes, they could have been different. He and Verdot both could be wearing claws instead of left hands. Or Verdot could be dead. Either way… "Thanks for being here now…"
Verdot's head rose sharply. Vince had thanked him! That was something new… At that instant, the sound of a gun firing resounded through the corridor, and blood exploded in a fan away from the side of Verdot's head. Verdot's face, with a stricken expression, was thrown upward toward the ceiling, but his body crumbled slowly to the floor.
A/N—Believe me, there is nothing like having baby! I woke up about 4:30 am and started walking in our house—I just wasn't certain what was happening. My husband got up around 5:30 and asked me what I wanted him to do; he had a 7:30 am meeting scheduled on our local Air Force base. I said go ahead and go—average first labors run 11-17 hours. If I were in labor, I'd be at it a while! When he called at 8:30 to check on me, all I could say was, "Can you come home now?!" I couldn't even dress myself. He did it for me—last time that ever happened. Wearing his sweats to the hospital was not my idea! My suitcase never got in his car, and the video camera never made it out of his trunk. We got to the doctor's office at 9:30, I was in the hospital at 11:00, and our daughter was born at 12:23 pm. Only eight hours labor, but she was eight days late!
Oh well... And why am I telling you all this—especially since this is not even a baby-related chapter?!—Angeal Valentine turns 17 today, Saturday, September 27. Happy Birthday, AV! Here's a Turk chapter for you, just as you wanted!
(Mothers are so embarrassing!)
