ENTERING THE TURKS
Part Two
By Inarae
Disclaimer: As always,
everything from Final Fantasy belongs to SquareSoft and a lot of other
people. I'm grateful to them for
creating such a wonderful world for me to play in, and hope they don't mind me
doing so.
Did anyone else spend at least half the game wondering about
the probability of a very silly blond getting into a certain elite
position? This is my answer to how that
could have came about. Fair warning-
my Turks are NOT nice sweet people. I
have trouble imagining elite assassins being good guys when they (apparently
willingly) work for a system where people like Heidigger and Scarlet are the
ones promoted, and moreover, Turks seem to enjoy working there.
Rating: This part is
R, for discussion of adult subject matter, a little violence, and kinda twisted
morals.
*******************************
Big gold
hoops slipped into the little indents in her ears, bleeding a bit as they
punctured through the thin layer of skin that had healed over the old holes,
for it had been years since she'd worn earrings. Dark cherry red slicked a sticky-smooth trail across her lips to
make them look round and full, and another layer of shiny clear made them look
moist, as if she'd been licking them.
Pale tan foundation de-emphasized the freckles and little scars from too
much time fighting outside under summer sun and winter blizzards, and a soft
pink dusting highlighted her cheeks like a school girl's naïve blush. Then eye shadow, mascara, hairspray to slick
her coarse blond strands back against her head, leaving just a few to dangle,
'accidentally' charming. Couldn't look
too planned, after all. God it had been
forever since she'd dressed like this!
Before she'd joined the military, certainly. A little scrap of thin cloth that almost fit in her fist if she
balled it up enough slipped over her
body, somehow covering her modestly from shoulders to mid thigh, her bare back
traced by thin cords buttoning at the sides, and a deep v-neck ending midway
between her breasts, just barely allowing a peek at them. Good, it didn't look sluttish. No need for a bra though. Next came black nylons that let the color of
her skin show through, held up by garters just above the bottom of the
dress. Specially made black velvet
gloves reached almost to her elbows.
Lastly, she slipped on heeled red sandals, but not the stilettos that
would have looked best with the outfit.
She needed to be able to fight if necessary.
Tseng rubbed his forehead as he
tried to make sense of the newest assignment for his Turks. This wasn't going to be easy, not with
Rude's left arm in a sling. It wasn't
his gun arm, thank goodness, but it would still slow them down. Someone knocked softly on the door to his
office, and his hand slipped down to grab the gun strapped to the underside of
his desk, training it on the door. The
location of his office wasn't secret, but nor could a random stranger stumble
across it accidentally, and neither his superiors or his subordinates were in
the habit of knocking.
"Come in."
"Commander Tseng, Sir?"
He frowned. The woman who slipped in was obviously
military, well muscled and standing at loose attention despite her civilian
clothes. Very civilian clothes. She had obviously taken quite a bit of time
with her appearance, but couldn't be called stunningly beautiful. Charming, perhaps. He didn't know her.
"Sir? My name is Elena Maritino.
I mailed you an application to join your command two weeks ago."
Tseng's eyes narrowed.
Perhaps emboldened by his silence,
the woman stepped forward, swaying her hips just a tad, but too much to be
accidental. "I hadn't gotten a reply
back yet, and I had some free time, so I thought meeting me in person might
give you some more information for when you consider my request." She licked her lips, nervously or
seductively, he couldn't tell. He
considered her offer briefly. It would
be enjoyable, certainly, and if nothing else, she deserved to be taught a lesson
for being so fucking stupid as to try this. . . but he had a lot of work to do,
and she just didn't look interesting enough.
"I saw your application and
dismissed it. I don't hire
females." Now get out, his
expression finished.
"Oh, but I really want to join,
Sir!" The woman said earnestly, a few
more strands of hair falling from where they'd been slicked back. "I've always dreamed the pride of being a
Turk. I'd do anything to get in! Even as a little kid, I wanted to be a Turk,
so honorable, so gorgeous and cool. . ."
she gave a little laugh, "Sorry, that sounded kind of childish, didn't
it, Sir? But there have been female
Turks in the past Sir, and I really think I'd do a good job. As you saw in my application, I'm a quite
capable warrior."
Honorable? Cool?
What a fucking idiot this girl was.
The Turks were the dirtiest fighters and cheaters in the entire
military. That was what defined them,
and made them such deadly assassins.
She licked her lips again, leaning
forward over his desk. "I'd do anything
to get in, Sir," she repeated,
softer. "Just tell me what to do."
A harmless groupie. Well, if she was going to be this insistent,
he was irritated at her enough now to enjoy teaching her a lesson. He generally
tried not to draw attention to himself, but no one would blame him or even pay
attention if she ended up hurt. She had
no doubt ignored a million regulations to get up here; as her superior and the
head of security, it was his job to punish rule-breakers.. And if she was stupid enough to complain,
well, she wasn't the type anyone would miss either. He let his gun slip back into it's holster and stood, grasping
her arm roughly and pulling her over the desk in a brutal kiss she was too
shocked to fight.
He released her and stepped
back. Her chest was heaving and the
whites showed in her wide eyes.
"Take off your clothes."
"Yes, Sir," she whispered, twisting
awkwardly around to reach the buttons in the back of the red dress, hesitantly
beginning to unbutton it..
She hesitated even more, fingers
pausing as she shivered.
With irritated eyes and slow steps like
a tiger stalking prey, he paced around the desk, a tiny smile on his face as he
jerked her roughly over to the brown leather couch in the corner opposite his
desk. She was still frozen in shock as
he pushed her down, lying still as his tongue claiming her mouth and his rough
hands wandered intently over her body.
She didn't even react as he slipped them up inside her dress. A pity, she was almost too inexperienced to
be even interesting. . .
With a sudden, unexpected and well
executed move, she flipped him so she was on top, a very familiar click
sounding by his ear. He froze.
"There's a very slender gun hidden
just under the wrist of this glove.
It's only a quarter of an inch thick, and two inches long, but it fires
a needle full of an incurable combination of chemicals and enzymes that will
kill a man in under two seconds. The
trigger is attached to my pinky, and only requires a movement of one eighth of
an inch to activate. I recommend
against moving." Her voice was suddenly
very cold and serious, hot breath whispering across his ear as she rose to her
feet beside the couch, gun still trained on him. A good move, he thought,
hiding his chagrin that he had been taken in so easily. On top of him he might have been able to
grab her gun away before she could shoot, he had just been too surprised to do
it immediately. Now, it would take him
almost a full extra second to get up and reach her before he could attack. If it had poor accuracy, like most
experimental weapons of that type did, or if she wasn't used to using it, it
might be possible. He'd wait for a
better opportunity for now though.
"You're a liar, Sir," she continued
in that soft, deadly voice. "If you had
actually read my application, warning bells would have gone off the instant I
entered your office in velvet gloves.
The blueprints for this earned me my first promotion."
"So I make
you a Turk or you kill me, is that it?"
Tseng watched the woman above him coldly. He would have crossed his arms for added emphasis but wasn't willing
to risk moving quite yet.
"That's
just about it, Sir," she agreed.
He let his
lips twitch slightly in amused condensation.
"And if I say yes, and then kill you tomorrow anyway . . ?"
"Then you had
fucking better write that I was a Turk on my tombstone, Sir, or my ghost will
decorate every inch of headquarters with shreds of your intestines." Her voice was amused, not bothered by the
concept in the slightest. She shifted
slightly, but kept the gun, or rather the wrist where he assumed the gun was,
trained steadily on his forehead.
"Let's start over again, Sir.
Lieutenant Elena Maritino, leader of fourth squadron, division two,
Junon, reporting for an interview regarding my application to enter your
command, Sir. My qualifications
are: top of the class, physical
fitness, strategy, marksmanship, wilderness training, in-city fighting, ambush
tactics, small arms, unarmed combat, electronic theory, and mechanical
theory. Two days ago, I broke the
Shinra army's record to become the fastest person to complete Junon's advanced
obstacle course. I'm a crack
sharpshooter with a .879 average-
that's better than your man Reno, by the way.
As you've noticed, I enjoy weaponry, and am fully qualified on just
about everything, including stuff they don't have tests for because I only
invented it in the last year and it's still top secret. I primarily design equipment for ambushes
and assassinations. It's true that I've
never seen battle beyond riots and skirmishes with wanna-be small town rebels,
but since I have just proven that I could have assassinated the head of the
Turks if I'd been so inclined, I'd be tempted to say that proves my
capabilities. Sir."
He watched
her silently for a moment. Now that he was looking for it, he thought he could
see the lump of the gun nestled under the velvet at her wrist. Cold light from the humming florescent bulb
above reflected off her bared teeth.
She was smiling, but not like she was proud of herself for getting the
drop on him, or was confident of winning.
It was a smile of pure vicarious pleasure in her own abilities, pleasure
in the challenge, in the risk of death.
A danger junkie. The white was
obscured for a second as she licked her teeth, waiting patiently as the soft
whispers of her breath echoed through the room. She was breathing hard enough her pulse must be thudding against the skin of her wrist and
throat, echoing in her heart. Maybe she
could even feel it thudding in her little finger, against the tiny ring that
would fire the gun when jerked. Well,
he wasn't much better, still feeling the affects of his arousal from
earlier. She was damn good. Cunning, brave, ambitious, and skilled. Willing to do anything to win. Overall, dangerous. Hmph.
"That bimbo act of yours is deadly,
lieutenant," he said finally. "Keep it
up. It'll be useful to have a squadron
member I know the enemy will always underestimate."
He watched
the second of hesitation as she decided if that meant what she wanted it to. He harshened his voice. "I don't know how they ran things at
whatever hell hole you came from, but I punish people who point guns at me,
Lieutenant."
She made her decision. There was a
small click, presumably the safety going back on the gun, and her arm and hand
became visible as she peeled off one of the black gloves, tossing it to the
floor. It clunked as it landed, proving
the presence of the gun. The bare hand
came up to the blur of her face in what he presumed was a salute.
"Yes, Sir, I'm sorry, Sir. It won't happen again, Sir."
"Roll
call's at nine, in my office."
"Acknowledged,
Sir." She was grinning again, happily
this time.
"Now get out; I don't sleep with my
subordinates."
And that's just a pity, Elena
thought, unable to stop grinning as she saluted again and buttoning up the
little scrap of material she had called a dress, scooping up her dropped glove
as she backed out the door. Her new
commander was as arrogant, dangerous, and gorgeous as the stories had painted
him. What more could a girl want? It was too dang bad they hadn't gotten farther along before she
pulled her little stunt. She realized she was whistling as she sauntered back to
her bunk, swinging the gun in the glove cheerfully. He'd punish her for this tomorrow, but she'd survive, and having
to act like a bimbo for the next few years wasn't a bad exchange for
success. Who knew, maybe it'd even be
kinda fun. She could think of all sorts
of people she'd be delighted to irritate by acting incompetent. . . .
***********************************
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Geeze, this one got away from
me. This was not what was supposed to
happen. . . . I even had a nice
outline. . . how sad. Sorry to anyone who wanted Tseng and Elena
to finish what they were doing, but I just can't write NC-17, it doesn't
work. Trust me. The part of this that just implies the start
of sex doesn't even work at all. I hate
that part.
I guess she won't meet Rude and
Reno until the next chapter. Actually,
I think it'll be another story. . .
As you've probably noticed, I like
to talk, and ask questions about my writing.
So here goes; ignore it if you're not interested
The last part bothers me. Does Tseng give in too easily to be
reasonable?
And Tseng wouldn't let down his
guard enough for Elena to get the drop on him like that. Any suggestions on how to make that more
likely?
I also think it needs more
explanation of why he did decide to sleep with her, because I don't see him as
a playboy; having sex with every female in sight. Any suggestions there?
Personally, I don't particularly
like this story because the morals seem kind of twisted- use sex and violence
and you'll get your way. I DON'T
support that at all, but in my opinion, Shinra was probably full of people
sleeping their way to rank, assassinating superiors to get promoted to their
job, etc. The people working in it
would have to have a certain willingness to do anything to succeed, or else
they would be destroyed in the infighting.
Therefore, to write Shinra, and to write people who obviously survived
and thrived in that system, I wrote it this way. Not that Elena and Tseng are bad here- just not good, and I
usually prefer to write good antagonists.
(Well, I prefer to take the bad guys and write them into good guys. . .)
As you might have noticed, I'm
writing a lot of one-shots lately to clarify confusing characters and
relationships for the long FFVII story I'm writing, 'To Define Evil.' They don't actually tie in to the TDE, for the
most part. . . but might be good to read before TDE anyhow. (TDE's not even
posted yet, so you kind of have to at the moment. . . )