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—When I got to the end of the "Battle of Banora" chapters, I thought I was close to the end of "Part II." It was at that point that Bjanik requested the "Yuffie and Jens" story. That very night—months ago—I wrote the first draft of the first scene of this chapter—long before I ever wrote the rape scene or the scene where Sephiroth threatened Godo. I've known for months this chapter was coming, and now it's here.

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get this chapter out. Between the holidays, writing parallel stories, and getting inside Makoto Akita's head, I thought this would never get finished! Chapter 36 returns to Wutai.

(8:00 pm, Wutai—Wutai Base; 6:00 am, Mideel; 4:00 am, Midgar; midnight, Gongaga)

Yuffie sat hunched on the cot in her cell, her arms wrapped tightly around her. Her upper lip curled in a snarl, and she rocked agitatedly back and forth. That bastard Turk had hurt her! She wanted to break him into a million pieces, rip out his intestines with her bare hands, pull off his gonads and stuff them into his mouth. There was no punishment brutal enough for the bastard! She smiled grimly. That was why she had demanded the "victim's revenge," under Wutai law. The Shinra demons would probably not give it to her, but… Five minutes, a knife, and the bound rapist in front of her sounded just fine to Yuffie. She forced herself to stop rocking, sit very still, and remember.

After the attack, Akita had taken her back to her cell. A doctor had come and very gently—yes, she had to admit everyone had been gentle with her since the attack—had examined her, taken some samples, and performed a cure to ease the pain. One of the officers who had questioned her earlier, the second-in-command she believed, had come and asked her questions which she hadn't answered. He had said the bastard would be prosecuted—that he'd end up in jail if she cooperated. Yuffie shook her head. That sounded like a long process—she wanted him dead right now! Finally, everyone had left her alone—until they'd marched her in front of a television camera and stuck a knife to her throat! That was one thing about being raped—when the enemy pressed a knife to your throat and cut you, you just didn't feel it!

From outside her cell, she had heard excitement. The Soldiers were happy. Yuffie ground her teeth at that thought. It seemed the shelling of the base had stopped. What would her father do next? Would he surrender in twelve hours as the demongod had dictated? Would Shinra release her as they'd indicated? She just didn't know. She started rocking again.

"He-ey? You okay?"

Yuffie's head jerked up. It was him! Akita. Again. He was peeking around the edge of her cell wall holding something toward her in his hand. She jerked her head and glared. "No-o!"

The young Soldier sighed. "I know you probably don't want to see anybody at all right now, but…" Jens looked down at his hand and pursed his lips for an instant. "I thought maybe you might like this." "This" was half his dinner—in fact, his favorite half. Jens had forgotten he'd shoved it into his pocket when he and Jerry had run to the cellblock earlier. Jens pushed his hand between the cell bars, bent his knees, and set a shiny, orange something on the floor. "I gotta go." Jens' cheeks flared with color. "I'm sorry…" He half ran away.

Yuffie sat alone again staring at where Akita had stood at the edge of her cell. After a while a hint of a smile flitted across her face; had Akita just tried to be nice to her? She slowly stood and then bent and grasped the shiny object the young man had left. Yuffie turned the long, rather squished thing over in her fingers and examined it. It seemed to be some kind of food in one of those pressed wrappers Shinra made. Yuffie eased her aching body back onto her cot and continued to examine the object. Her eyebrows came down in consternation. Usually Shinra food wasn't terribly good—too full of processed scraps and no nutrients. Wutainese tried not to eat Shinra food unless it was absolutely necessary, but he had left it. He had saved, if not her life, at least her sanity. All right. Let's see… She wasn't quite sure how to open the thing, but… there. Rip the end. Pull the edges apart.

Yuffie tilted her head to examine the contents. Was it a bread, maybe? Something baked certainly. A wonderful aroma came to her nose—unlike other Shinra food. Yuffie nibbled a corner of the brown "bread." Um-m. Oh, it was good! She took a full bite… chewed and swallowed… then another. She smiled slightly, felt a tear slide down her cheek, and looked up at where the Soldier had stood. Something inside Yuffie relaxed—ever so slightly. She whispered, "thank you… Akita."

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Since the attack on the princess, the pictures from the hidden television cameras in her cell had been routed to the base command center as well as to the cellblock guards' station. Carlos Griegos stared at the monitor showing the princess' cell. "What the…?" With his limited Wutainese, Griegos wasn't completely sure what the pair had said to each other, but clearly Yuffie Kisaragi was eating the Tessa bar Akita had left her! "Bill! Are you watching this?" Griegos called his question over his shoulder to his second then shook his head in wonder. "Akita, I'll say it again. You are brilliant."

"Yes, I'm watching." Having viewed the episode from over the colonel's shoulder, Bill Wallace shook his head too. "He may be brilliant, but I think he's also a genuinely kind young man."

"Yes… Yes, he is. At least he can get her to talk to him." Griegos looked at his second. "I want him to spend more time with her. Re-arrange his schedule and make it so. I know he'll hate it—he's a talented young fighter—but take him off his missile-site assault team. Replace him with Aman. Oh, and keep Akita supplied with Tessa bars—my share, if you have to."

"Yes, sir."

Griegos smiled a bit ruefully; he'd miss his Tessa bars. "All right. Where do we stand on troops to take out the launch sites?" The two officers crossed the command center to the white board; it was once again covered in troop-assignment and supply lists.

"We're in good shape unless you want to make further changes to the personnel assignments." Wallace wiped a finger through Jens Akita's name on the white board and wrote in "Jerry Aman."

The two officers had discussed whom they would send if they ever got the chance to attack the launch sites; when they'd made their lists, the exercise had seemed largely academic, just a way to pass the time while under fire. Now, however, the plans had to be put into operation. The teams to take out the sites had been selected days ago, and their gathered gear sat in a staging area. The biggest sticking point was a surprising one, however. The General had recognized the missile sites to be "baited traps" during Griegos' first message to Midgar and therefore the Soldiers had stayed underground. Now the time had come, however, to take over those sites. Included on the personnel lists were the names of two people Griegos didn't have actual command authority over but whom he needed to counter any traps, Analog and Digital. He'd spoken to An; she was certainly willing to help. Digital, however, was under guard and awaiting trial for his attack on Princess Yuffie. Griegos hated that he was even considering letting Digital out to help with this project. Bastard deserved what he was getting. Hell, he deserved the "victim's revenge" the princess had demanded! Either way, with three sites to take out, Griegos needed Digital's services. An would be hard put to deal with all the traps at all three sites simultaneously.

Griegos gazed at the lists and shook his head. "Damn." The officers exchanged looks. "Unfortunately we need Digital. An can't do all this by herself. As it is, she'll have to cover two sites, at least. I won't have Digital at more than one location." Griegos sighed. "Let's just see what he's going to demand in exchange for his 'services.' He has no reason to go topside and risk his life to help us. He may well want something we can't give him. Like freedom."

"Bastard. There's something unfair about needing the help of a rapist. Suppose he planned this all along somehow?"

"I don't see how, but knowing Digital, I wouldn't put it passed him…" Griegos paused. "Or… we could give him no choice at all…" Griegos looked at his second.

Wallace raised an eyebrow at that statement. The colonel tilted his head at Wallace and looked meaningfully at him. Yikes. No choice, hunh? "My job?" At the colonel's nod, Wallace took a step back and saluted. "Yes, sir."

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(8:00 pm, Wutai—Tamblin Fortress; 6:00 am, Mideel; 4:00 am, Midgar; midnight, Gongaga)

Even though he led the emperor from the Tamblin Fortress command center as part of the emperor's honor guard toward his quarters, Makoto Akita fumed as he marched rigid before his emperor. He just couldn't stand it! He had waited years for this rebellion—and his chance at glory—and this spineless emperor was ending the war before it really began! Akita couldn't tolerate the thought of hearing the emperor announce Wutai's surrender.

Makoto Akita shook his head. His quarters were nearby, and he needed to get to them as quickly as possible. He refused to let his subordinates see him lose control, but it was too much! Akita paused in his rigid marching and took the salute of two guards before the emperor's quarters. The guards had snapped to attention at Akita's approach. Akita smiled grimly. At least they knew their place and duties…

"Report!"

"All quiet here, sir. No one has been in or out of his imperial majesty's rooms since his majesty left earlier."

"Good. Open the doors." Plastering a slight smile on his face, Akita turned smartly to face his emperor. "Majesty. All appears to be in order. Do you wish me to inspect your quarters?"

"No." The pudgy emperor opened his mouth again then closed it. Akita found the emperor's actions fish-like—as though he couldn't decide what he should do. Make up your mind and stick to it! Idiot! Akita was careful, however, to let none of his thoughts cross his face. "No. That's all, commander. We'll leave early for Tenshin. Have the car and escort ready at 2:00 am. I doubt I'll sleep tonight."

Akita snapped his heels together and nodded his head sharply in salute. "Understood, majesty. Good night." He stepped back to let the emperor pass. Akita glared as the emperor moved by him into his quarters. No doubt the man wouldn't sleep—he was surrendering the country tomorrow morning! The only good thing to Akita's mind was that the capitulation broadcast—Akita's lip wanted to curl with a snarl at the thought—couldn't be made immediately. Tamblin Fortress didn't have the facilities necessary for such a broadcast. The emperor would be returning to Tenshin Palace early in the morning to make his statement from there; otherwise, he'd have surrendered already!

Makoto Akita turned on his heel smartly. His own quarters were across the intersecting corridor just ahead. Just get inside before you think about this… A single corporal stood outside Akita's door and snapped him a salute. Good man. That's right. No one in the Wutai military dared offend Commander Akita, the head of Wutai's resurrected land, sea, and air forces. "All quiet?"

The corporal nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Akita slashed his door card through the card reader then pushed his thumb into a finger print screen before he heard the door click open. The emperor disliked high-tech gadgetry—often it was Shinra-produced—but Akita approved of technology and of its use in warfare. Soon, if he had his way, Wutai would be using Shinra's products and technology on Shinra itself. If he got the chance…

Akita pushed the door closed behind him, let the mask fall from his face, and smashed his right fist into his left palm. His whole body shook in rage. Not yet. Not just yet. He couldn't release his anger yet. Akita walked across his small, personal office and entered his bedroom where he closed the door. Finally. Now… "The emperor! Damn him and all such cowards to perdition! May the Great Leviathan consume them completely, utterly, for all time!" Godo was surrendering the country just for the sake of one slip of a girl! How could he?! Akita ripped his brown jacket open; three large, embossed metal buttons flew across the room. Lifting the uniform jacket, he buried his face in the heavy fabric and screamed. "No!" Wutai must be free, and he, Makoto Akita, must be the one to lead her! It was his destiny!

Akita dropped the jacket to the floor and fell face first onto his bed. Slight of stature, Akita was in his early thirties—just a few years older than the demongod himself. One of the few surviving, high-ranking officers of the War of Shinra Aggression, as it was known in Wutai, Akita knew he had a destiny. He had survived the earlier war, and now he was to lead his people to freedom! He was as certain of Wutai's destiny as he was of his part in it.

Akita rolled onto his back and pulled a pillow over his face preparatory to another scream. Just then, however, a thought flicked across his mind: Princess Yuffie wasn't exactly the only heir to the throne. There were other possibilities—distant cousins to the Kisaragi direct line, like himself for instance. Yes, that was certainly true, though the relationship originated several generations back. Flipping the pillow away from him, Akita racked his brain for the exact connection and any other heirs. There were a few old ladies ahead of him… Akita frowned. In theory, his own older, traitorous brother, Hajime, stood between him and the throne. But then again, Hajime had been disowned by their family and declared dead because of his relationship with a non-Wutainese woman. Hajime's son, of course, would be no problem at all. Since Hajime was "dead," no child existed. Certainly no one in Wutai would recognize a half-Wutainese non-person as an heir to the imperial throne!

There was also the potential complicating factor of the disinherited, but certainly living, legitimate, imperial male heir, Shion Kisaragi. That turncoat was in the direct line to the throne and might press his claim if Godo were gone; however, Makoto Akita doubted anyone in Wutai would accept Shion Kisaragi as emperor!

Makoto Akita shook his head. Could he really consider doing such a thing? To kill a king was "regicide." To kill an emperor was, what? "Impericide"? Was there even a word for the action? It struck Akita that if he couldn't think of the term, that the act itself might therefore be… impossible, perhaps?

Akita placed his hands over his lower face, breathed deeply, and considered further, his eyes widening. How wise was it to upset the country during a war? But then, what part of wisdom did any of this situation possess? Yes, perhaps now was the perfect time. Wutai was already in a state of unrest. Shinra had added fuel to the fire with the capture and threats to the princess. Yes, that should solidify the country's resolve to fight this war—remind the people of the brutality of Shinra…

True, his claim to the throne was distant, thin at best. To strengthen it, he would probably have to marry one of those old ladies and somehow beget an heir. Ah, the things we do for our country… Akita sat up abruptly and chewed on a thumb nail in realization. Bu-ut, if the princess were to fall into his hands, he could rule in her name—impregnate her, keep her in her room, and trot her out for show when needed. Good plan—rather what he suspected her fiancé, Genesis Rhapsodos, had had planned for her. Indeed, ruling as regent for the underage heir might be just the thing! He wouldn't even need to have control of the girl in order to be her regent! In a few years, if he actually got control of the crown princess, he could marry her and continue to run the country. No problem with consanguinity—he and the princess weren't that closely related. That old fool, high priest Dong, would have to allow such a match as he had the engagement of the princess to the non-Wutainese, Rhapsodos. Akita would just have to get control of that old man—tomorrow, at Tenshin.

Genesis Rhapsodos. Akita had chafed under Rhapsodos' instructions in those planning meetings; as if Rhapsodos could have possibly led Wutai to freedom! That Rhapsodos was dead, Makoto Akita didn't doubt. The demongod, Sephiroth himself, had relished telling of Rhapsodos' death too much for it to have been a lie. Just as well—one less obstacle in his path.

Who would support his actions? After the uproar in the command center, Makoto Akita knew that none of his fellow command staff members had been happy with the emperor's decision. After they cooled down, they might come to accept the surrender, however. Hm. Yes, the time to strike was now—now or never. Fortunately he had just the thing for the emperor, here in his own room, ready for use; tea would be best.

Knowing well the military situation, however, Akita knew the attack on the base had to resume, and resume quickly, if Wutai were to keep its upper hand in this war. Surrender was not an option.

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(8:30 pm, Wutai—Wutai Base; 6:30 am, Mideel; 4:30 am, Midgar; 12:30 am, Gongaga)

Soldier Third Class Jens Akita punched his pillow. Well, at least he had a pillow to punch. When the word had come from higher up to move underground, Jens had been close to his quarters and had been able to gather all his belongings. Some of the guys hadn't been so lucky, and their stuff had been blown sky high. While there had been supplies of blankets and cots in the underground storage areas, pillows had become dear. Jens, and everyone like him fortunate enough to own one, had written his name on all his belongings after that first night when it had become clear that some guys were desperate enough to steal pillows from other guys. Arg!

Jens turned over, looked at the ceiling, and sighed. He and Jerry Aman, along with a half dozen other Third Classes, had carved out "quarters" for themselves by rearranging crates in an ammunition store room. True, they'd be in a million pieces if the room were ever hit, but at least it'd be over quickly—wouldn't have to worry about his pillow then either. Jens pounded the side of his fist into a crate next to his bed—might be better not to beat up on his single pillow. Keep it from losing feathers that way.

"Jens, go to sleep." Jerry had about had it with his noisy friend.

"Un hunh." Jens hit the crate again, slightly less loudly this time, then kicked his bed with his heel. For about the millionth time Jens ran through his list of "whys," and tonight realized he had new questions to add. Along with "Why had the bad guys hit the hospital?", "Why were his parents dead?" and "Why couldn't we just fight it out with the Wutainese army hand-to-hand?"—they were trained Soldiers after all!—there was now also, "Why were they using the girl to threaten the Emperor?" And the hardest question, "Why did it bother him that the girl had been hurt?" He'd heard the older Soldiers, the ones who had served in Wutai during the first war, laugh softly—some not so softly—when they heard about that creep, Digital, and the princess. A few had even made crude jokes about the situation. Well, those were guys Jens didn't like anyway, so he didn't mind what they said. Still, images of the pain on the princess' face and of her skin as he'd helped her with her clothes wouldn't fade from Jens' mind. Jens' palms were sweating. He rubbed his hands hard on his blanket then kicked the bed again. He'd pulled her pants up and had tried not to see the darkening bruises on her skin nor the tight curls at the vee of her legs… Jens' whole body broke into a cold sweat. Beating in Digital's face was such a good idea! He hit the crate again with the outside of his fist. The girl had been hurt! Urr! Jens growled. No. Not "girl." She had a name, after all. Unlike the creepy guys, he should at least use her name. "Yuffie"!

"Jeh-hens! Go… to… sleep!"

"A-ah, man!" Jens rolled onto his side to face his friend. "It's like eight thirty! How can you sleep so early?"

"Easy—and it's after nine!" Jerry gave a huge yawn.

"Nah, can't be. Gotta be just eight!"

"Doesn't matter. You're doin' all that translation stuff—not movin' much. They got the rest of us runnin' to burn off the energy. Down and back in the hallways down here—back and forth. I hear they're even settin' up obstacle courses in one of the storage areas, so tomorrow we'll be addin' 'up and down' to 'back and forth.' Go to sleep, Jens."

"Yeah. Okay." Jens rolled onto his stomach, sighed, rose on his elbows, and smashed his pillow once more. Damn it… Hm. Running, hunh? "Where're they settin' up the course?" Jens' question met with a snore, however, from his friend. Jens flopped onto his back and sighed again. Well, the halls should be okay. Jens stood and changed into tee-shirt, shorts, and running shoes. Might as well try running.

Cccccccccccccccccccc

(8:30 pm, Wutai—Tamblin Fortress; 6:30 am, Mideel; 4:30 am, Midgar; 12:30 am, Gongaga)

"…and so my dear people, this war ends without truly beginning. Without Yuffie…" The pen slipped from Godo's fingers. Yuffie. How could this have happened? He shook his head and felt again the old pain that had started with the death of his wife, but now held a new element—the loss of their daughter. He knew Sephiroth; indeed, knew Sephiroth better than anyone in Wutai, perhaps. What the demongod took, he never gave up.

During the war when the demongod had taken a village, a city, a region, Sephiroth had never relinquished control. Well, yes, his grip had occasionally been shaken, but never had that grasp been broken. And always—always!—the village, city, or region had never been the same. Generally three-quarters burnt, the people had not survived for long anywhere Soldier took control. Soldiers had pushed the inhabitants into the streets, then into the countryside to live off their own people, turn bandit, or starve. If an area had thought to rebel, it had been completely burned, destroyed. Eventually the only source of food had been Shinra itself. Obey Shinra or starve. "Submit to the will of the company." That was Shinra's slogan, even today, years later, and that was the way it had been when Sephiroth had taken over the Shinra forces. Scorched earth. No mercy. That such a man had his daughter in his clutches was nearly more than Godo could bear.

Alone in his quarters at Tamblin Fortress, Godo ran his hands over his face. Yuffie. Try as he might, he hated this speech. He had to tell the people of Wutai personally that their struggle was over. After his little rebellion, how would Shinra deal with his country? His people? Probably bomb every population center with incendiaries. Again. Certainly the Kisaragi imperial family was doomed even if Yuffie survived. Godo knew he'd gambled and lost—on one throw of the dice.

Suddenly Godo heard a knock on the door. He sighed; he was tired, indeed, emotionally wrung out. He really didn't want to see anyone tonight. Godo pulled the gaping sides of his imperially crested robe closed across his chest, raised his head, and called. "Come."

"Majesty?" One of the double doors opened slightly, and Makoto Akita's head appeared inside Godo's room.

"Yes, what is it, Akita?" Godo's face hardened. Remembering Akita's earlier outburst in the control room, Godo was determined to be rid of Akita as fast as possible. He didn't want to deal with the man, the glory-seeker, again tonight.

Akita was dressed in his formal uniform—complete with braids falling from his shoulder and curling under his arm, no less, Godo noted. He stepped into the room carrying a tray with two cups and a steaming porcelain pot. "After earlier, I thought perhaps Your Majesty would enjoy some tea to help you sleep. I hear you enjoy herbal teas. This is one of my favorites."

Godo's head rose slightly in surprise. He'd never known Akita to be thoughtful, but then their opportunities to show such qualities had been limited. Perhaps he'd misjudged the man. He caught a hint of the warm, comforting aroma of the tea. "Yes. Thank you, Akita. I would enjoy that. Please come in." Godo leaned back in his chair. Akita set the tray on the emperor's desk. "I see you've brought two cups. Please sit down and join me."

"Thank you, sire." Akita nodded his gratitude and sat in a chair opposite the emperor. "May I pour?"

"Of course." Godo truly loved tea, especially before bed. He always found it soothing, relaxing after a long day, especially when he shared it with… Yuffie. He leaned his cheekbone against the heel of his palm, his elbow propped on the desk, and sighed slightly as Akita poured the tea. Godo's gaze drifted down to the speech he'd been trying to write. He shook his head slightly. He'd known he was risking the country when he started the war. Why hadn't he realized he was also risking her?

"Majesty?"

"Hm?" Godo jerked his head slightly—he must be more tired than he thought. He raised his head, and his hand fell to the desk top. "Yes?"

"Here, sire, your tea."

"Oh yes." Godo raised his hand and grasped the small cup that Akita moved toward him. "Thank you." Godo raised the cup to his lips and inhaled the heady perfume of the tea. "This smells so good, Akita. Thank you for bringing this to me. Yuffie and I love it so much."

"Yes, I know, sire." Akita raised his cup in salute. "To Her Highness and her safe return."

"Ye-es." Godo's hand shook slightly as he too raised his cup in salute. Yuffie returned to him alive, was now his fondest wish. "To Yuffie." A drop of the tea jumped from the emperor's cup and fell to the desktop as Godo moved the container to his lips. He sipped the liquid, paused, and then drank the rest of the contents. Godo lowered his hand, but the cup leaned as the emperor's hand touched the desk. He cradled his head on his arm and snored softly.

With a grim smile, Makoto Akita rose from his chair and poured his share of the poisoned tea back into the teapot. He set the emperor's now-empty cup back on the tray. The poison would not immediately kill the emperor. Akita would take the tea tray and cups and clean them himself. On his way out he would call for the emperor's aide to help the man to bed, tell the aide he thought the emperor was somewhat unwell, perhaps grief stricken, and to rouse the emperor for the trip back to Tenshin at about twelve thirty for his journey at two.

Akita's grim smile tightened into a truer version. He was now the head of the government of Wutai! Looking down to see what the emperor had been writing when he came in, Akita saw that the paper contained Godo's surrender speech. Not surprising. Then he started. The drops of the tea that had hit the paper had encircled one word like tears, "Yuffie." Damn. Such a sentimentalist! Makoto Akita picked up his tray and cups along with the draft speech. The draft must be destroyed. No word of the former emperor's dying wishes must go beyond Tamblin. He, unlike Godo, had plans to make, orders to write, and a war to win!

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(9:00 pm, Wutai—Wutai Base; 7:00 am, Mideel; 5:00 am, Midgar; 1:00 am, Gongaga)

Run! Pump your arms! Pound your feet! Don't think! Just run!

Jens pushed himself. He hadn't run so much since the attack on the base had begun! Maybe it was because he hadn't been running that he was approaching the runner's high. The little tears in his muscles had all been repaired, and suddenly he could nearly fly! There was a joy in running, and Jens felt it with every pump of his arms! Run!

The corridors, even at nine at night, still held some people. A few glanced up as he carefully avoided them. Usually when Soldiers ran, they ran in packs. It was a bit surprising to see a lone Soldier.

Jens didn't care about reactions right now. He was on his third circuit of the underground base and making great time! Suddenly he caught a toe on an imperfection in the concrete and curled himself into a ball to roll. Crap! Spinning twice, he bounded to his feet. Whoa! He was lucky hadn't twisted an ankle!

Forced to a stop, Jens looked around to see where he was. Sheeze. He was right back at the detention area! Jens put two fingers to his carotid to check his pulse and hopped from one foot to the other to keep warm. Keep going or see her? Keep going. While his brain said "keep going," Jens' feet turned into the detention area. With a glance at the guards' station window, Jens paused and waited for the guards to buzz open the door to the cellblock corridor. Shaking his head slightly, Jens sighed. What was he doing here again? Well, maybe she hadn't eaten his Tessa bar, and he could get it back?! Yeah, that was it…

"Hey, kid. You back again?" A voice came from an overhead speaker.

"Yeah. Guess so. Can I go in?"

"Sure. Colonel's orders. You can see her anytime you want."

"Hu-nh?! What's that supposed to mean?" Before he could question the guard further, the barred door before Jens swung open with a buzz, and he stepped through. Have to figure that one out later.

The third cell on the left—that was hers. At least the colonel had locked that creep Digital up "somewhere else." Jens wasn't sure where "somewhere else" was. He was just glad it was nowhere near the princess. Yuffie. Remember, she has a name. Use it! As he neared her cell, he could see that the orange-wrapped Tessa bar he had left was no longer on the floor sticking into her cell. Did she eat it? Did she like it? … Did she maybe like him?

"Hey. Yuffie. You okay?"

Lying on her cot, Yuffie's head turned immediately, and her eyes locked on the young Soldier. He was back. Akita. He had even said her name! No one had called her by her name in the time she'd been a prisoner. Instead of stopping at the edge of her cell, he had walked several steps beyond the wall and grasped the bars with both hands. The look on his face was so intense, so worried, she did smile and nod. Yuffie threw off her blanket and spun to sit with her legs over the edge of the cot. Next, she glanced at her pillow and grasped the remains of the shiny orange wrapper beside it, stood, and walked stiffly across the cell with the wrapper held out toward him. "Thank you. It was very good. The best Shinra food I've ever had."

A grin broke across Jens' face. "Yeah. They're really great, aren't they? I love 'em. The orange flavor is my second favorite, but I like the chocolate mint best. I'll see if I can get you one, okay?"

Yuffie tilted her head at him. "Orange" she understood, but, "What is 'choc-lat'?"

"You don't know what chocolate is?! Whoa! Just you wait! You bet I'll get you a chocolate one!"

The girl frowned. "It's better than orange? Better than this?" She waved the wrapper in her hand before his face. "Much better?!"

"Yeah. Chocolate is excellent!" Jens swallowed hard. He needed to know. "Are you okay? I've been really worried about you. My roommate—that's Jerry who was with me earlier…" At his pause and almost question, the princess nodded. She clearly remembered the taller, blond Soldier who had helped drive off the bastard. "He'd have thrown me out of our quarters if I hadn't left, I was keeping him up so bad." She nodded slowly. For the first time since his arrival, the princess looked away from her rescuer, stepped back, and wrapped her arms around herself again. Almost folding in on herself, she seemed to deflate before Jens' eyes, and he saw her eyes sparkle with tears as she turned away. "Hey! I'm sorry I said anything! I just want you to be all right! Please?!"

The distressed note in the young man's voice caused Yuffie to look back at him. The look on his face was so sincere, she wanted to reassure him. She took a deep breath and lowered her arms. Akita, of all the people here, had been kind to her, tried to help her. If just for him, she had to pull herself together. Keep herself together. She smiled slightly and looked at his eyes. They were a dark brown. She liked his eyes—they were familiar somehow. Oh. How about that?! They were just like hers! Yuffie wrapped her hands over Jens' where his hands still held the cell bars. "I will be—if you come to see me... often. Okay?"

Jens nodded vigorously. "Yeah. I will. As often as I can! You bet!" With that happy thought—that she wanted to see him again—Jens could feel his grin nearly break his face. He turned and ran from the cellblock.

Once in the corridor, Jens let out a "Whoop!" He'd have jumped—maybe thirty feet!—if the ceiling had allowed it. Oops. He was about to run the wrong direction! With a spin, he nearly ran over Lt. Col. Wallace. "Lieutenant Akita!"

Yikes! Jens stomped his feet into the floor and froze into a stone-faced salute. "Sir!"

The officer held out a small, brown-paper-wrapped package to the young Soldier. "Here. Take this with you." Turning, with his claymore glinting on his back, the lieutenant colonel entered the cellblock. "Good job, son. Dismissed."

"Sir! Thank you, sir!"

Puzzled—why had the lieutenant colonel told him "good job" anyway, and why did he have his sword?—Jens kept the package in his left hand, completed his salute, then ran.

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"Let me get this straight: you need me to help you take over the launch sites?!" Digital smirked at the Soldier standing at the side of the metal table in the interrogation room. The Turk was seated at the end of the table he'd tried to rape the girl on earlier. The door had been replaced with an even thicker, heavier version, and the interrogation room cameras were definitely "on." This time every word of his conversation would be recorded. Digital would have clapped his hands in glee—if they hadn't been shackled, that is. His blue Turk suit, along with all his Turk equipment, had been replaced with an orange, short-sleeved, prisoner's coverall, and his wrists and ankles were surrounded by shackles joined together by another chain; a little "heavy duty" for a rapist, he'd thought, but then again, if their positions had been reversed, he'd have done the same thing. "And what are you offering in return for my help? I've got no reason to do it, you know.

Bill Wallace Jr. leaned across the side of the table and glared into the man's eyes, then with a predatorially graceful motion, Wallace removed the sword from his back, stepped behind the gnome's chair, and pressed the blade against the man's neck under his chin. The sword's edge bit into Digital's skin everywhere the two made contact. Wallace felt the man stiffen before him, and bright blood dripped onto Digital's orange coverall. Good.

"Soldier is offering to let you live, scum, unless you'd like to change that right now, of course."

Have to get him to stop! Digital could feel the sword edge biting further into his neck. And he'd thought the colonel was the crazy one here! He pounded the table leg with one shackled hand, the chains jangling. When the blade continued to press, Digital pounded more frantically. Finally the pressure relaxed, but other than to lean forward to whisper directly into Digital's ear, the Soldier didn't move.

"Under Shinra's law code, you'll be tried and convicted. Even without physical evidence—after all, you didn't have time to deposit any semen, so in a way it's just your word against hers—you'll probably get ten years in prison even if she isn't exactly a 'Shinra citizen,' so to speak. But remember, you did this on a Soldier base, and you subverted a guard under Soldier command. With the testimony of the two Third Classes, Colonel Griegos will ask for a doubling of your sentence, minimum." Wallace kept his sword under the man's chin but raised his lips away from Digital's ear. Griegos had let him do the dirty work. Fine. They did need Digital's help. His commander would almost certainly have killed the Turk by now. The lieutenant colonel glanced at the spot in the wall where he knew the camera was hidden and through which Griegos could see him. Speaking normally, Wallace continued. "Of course, the princess has requested your punishment be according to Wutai law. Soldier has never granted victim's revenge claims, but it would shorten the process considerably, and," he shrugged, "there's a first time for everything." He leaned back to Digital's ear. "The colonel's considering granting her request… Just think about it." Wallace wasn't sure whether his voice would be described as a snarl or a purr. Somewhere in between, he supposed. "Wutai's 'victim's revenge'; you shackled, her with a knife, and five minutes in a locked room. Don't think she couldn't do it. In case you didn't notice, she's ninja trained. You're dead meat, Digital."

Grrr! Breathing hard, Digital coughed as he tried to speak. "Tseng…" cough, "would never allow it!"

"Tseng!" Wallace laughed. "In case you haven't noticed—Dij—Tseng's working hand-in-glove with the General these days. You're small potatoes in their books. The General's ordered those launch sites taken. The best you can hope for is twenty years in prison if you help take out those sites. The worst—well that's the princess' decision." Wallace glanced again at the hidden camera then leaned back to the man's ear. "Of course, you could die while on that mission. You'll be on the colonel's team, after all. I don't want you on my team…"

"When do we go?" The Turk's breathing was a bit better.

Wallace raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected the man's capitulation quite so soon. Damn. He'd really wanted to press the sword against Digital's throat a few more times. Glancing once again at the camera, he replied. "Soon. There's a medic outside who'll do a cure. You'll be taken back to isolation, given some fatigues to wear, and some of your Turk tools. We'll be leaving shortly."

"Fine." Digital was resigned. After all, where there was life, there was hope. Or so they said…

cccccccccccccc

Back in the command center, Carlos Griegos bristled having just watched the scene in the interrogation room on a closed circuit television monitor. He was coming to truly hate that little man. Griegos clamped his teeth tight. He'd known he was better off to leave this "negotiation" up to Wallace. Griegos would have simply cut the man's head off and taken the consequences. Well, sometimes these things work out for the best. After all, he was putting Digital on his own team—where he could keep an eye on him, of course.

Two of the missile launch sites were in the hills to the north and northwest of the base. Wallace and Cho would lead the teams to take them out; hopefully, An could deal with the traps at the two more closely spaced sites. He'd take a team—with Digital—to the site to the southwest. With any luck at all, Digital wouldn't survive. Of course, with no luck, they'd be counterattacked, and his team would be wiped out. That was the way these things happened, after all.

Ccccccccccccc

It was only back in his quarters that Jens pulled the wrapping from the package the lieutenant colonel had given him. Inside the paper were six of the coveted Tessa bars: two oranges, two strawberries, a blueberry, and--best of all!--a chocolate mint! Wow, just wait till the princess sees these! Then a thought passed through Jens' mind. How had Wallace known? Oh. Jens nodded grimly. He'd seen it. He'd seen their first conversation! That was why the guard at the entrance had said, "Colonel's orders. You can see her anytime you want." The last vestiges of Jens' earlier euphoria drained away completely. The higher-ups were using him! Using him to get her to talk! Hm. How did he feel about that? Would he cooperate? It was his duty, right? Have to think about that one, Jens. After all, you do like her, and she seems to like you too—she's maybe even starting to trust you.

Still dressed in his running clothes, Jens flopped, stomach-first, onto his bed, stuffed the precious Tessa bars under his pillow, and listened to Jerry snore. Damn. Now he had something else to worry about. Well, at least, it was a new worry. Jens' head hit the pillow, and for all his worries, he was immediately asleep.

Suddenly the alarms went off, and Jerry fell off his bed. "ARG!"

A/N—As Bjanik wrote in one of her reviews, "On a philosophical note, I don't think it's possible to write a character well without identifying with some part of them. So in that way every character is a little like the author. Feel free to bring that up if I have to write about a serial killer or something equally awful."

Well, I've now written about a rapist and a murderer. I guess if it had taken me days rather than weeks to write the Makoto Akita section, then I should have been bothered, even scared. After all, somewhere—extremely deep in my brain—I found a cold-blooded murderer and his motivations.