What If?

by Master Telanis

What if some events in FF7 had turned out differently?

6. Chapter 4: Icicle Inn

Sorry this took so long. It would've been up more than a month ago, except for a few unexpected details.

Anyway, it hardly needs to be said, but NONE of this belongs to me. It's all Square's fault. Blame them. Now, on with the show!

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Icicle Inn

by Master Telanis and Ree-chan the Great

Nestled in the mountains of the Northern Continent lay a small village. Placed at a point which overlooked the Great Glacier, its inhabitants called it Icicle Inn, although it was more of an expanded outpost for travellers heading down onto the Glacier itself. It contained all of the necessities for travel: a weapons shop, medicines, inn. It also contained a small number of houses and lodges, making it resemble a miniature rest-stop for tourists. The motley group who staggered into it, covered with snow, were not tourists.

Everyone was giving Barret a wide berth as he stomped through the snow until he was at the center of the tiny circling of buildings. He shook himself, sending cascades of white fluff pouring off of his broad shoulders and his head. Then, he said, "Gonna find sommin' t'drink," and stomped off.

Cid shivered, holding rubbing his hands up and down his forearms. "Pretty &#^@*$ cold 'round here, eh, Reeve?"

"Oh, I've got no problem with it, Captain. Got the exterior sensors turned off."

Cid grumbled about the size of the Cait Sith body, the probable diameter of Reeve's ass, and what one would more-than-likely have to do with the other in the near future.

Apparently not hearing this, Reeve guided the robot forward, saying, "I'm gonna go make sure Barret doesn't get into trouble."

Tifa was just wandering away, and Cloud called after her, "Teef, where ya going?"

She looked up in surprise, then said, "Just gonna check out the weapons place." Her eyes kept shifting from place to place, never resting on any one thing.

Cloud responded, "That actually sounds like a plan. Hang on, I'll come along." Tifa looked surprised, her eyebrows hiking right up to her hairline, but she just nodded silently.

Cid wondered for a moment if Aeris's death meant Cloud and Tifa could become as close as they had been. Then he felt a flush of guilt at the thought. He hid it by taking a huge drag on his last cigarette, and grunting. He said, "Think that drink sounds pretty &#^@*$ good, right about now. . ."

Yuffie piped up, saying, "You never did explain what happened, back there, ya know?"

He huffed. "C'mon, then. I'll tell y'all 'bout it over a beer."

Her eyes lit up at the word. "Really?"

"Don't get so 'cited, pint-size. Yer gettin' a cola." Cid grinned.

The wind went out of her sails. "Aw, geez. . ."

Nanaki said, "Where's Vincent?"

Cid looked around, and shook his head. "Guy's always goin' off on 'is own. 'E'll be back."

"I guess. . ." Nanaki didn't sound very convinced. Cid pretended he hadn't noticed.

"Yeah. Red, why doncha go see 'bout gettin' some info on this place, while Yuffs'n I discuss some things?"

"Oh, absolutely! Because you humans are extremely receptive to talking quadrapeds. . ." Nanaki answered sarcastically, wandering off.

Cid and Yuffie trudged through the snow toward the inn, where Cid assumed drinks could be had. Shivering, he decided he'd settle for something a bit warmer than a beer. Like a warm beer.

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The man running the inn had directed Barret and Reeve to a door leading into the basement, where the pub was. The basement was rather dim, but not uncomfortably so. Very weak neon liquor signs afforded it a little light, providing a sort of warm atmosphere, despite the feeling one got upon entry which told them not to cause a ruckus.

Barret plopped down on a stool, and ordered a pint of the strongest stuff the bartender could find. Reeve hopped up to the stool next to his, and the cat part transferred itself from the moogle to the seat. "Neat trick, Reeve," muttered Barret, a little sardonically. He took a long draught from his mug, and winced.

"Just one of the little touches that was supposed to. . . well, add to the realism," replied the executive. "I'm sorry if I was a little quiet on the walk here. I'm sure you had some things to say to me, or questions to ask, or something."

"Yeah? Like what?" Barret belched, and asked the bartender for a refill.

Reeve sighed, and said, "I know you knew who I was, as soon as Ifalna called me by name. That twitch was one of surprise." Barret opened his mouth to protest, but Cait held up a hand, saying, "Don't bother with it, okay? There's no reason you shouldn't know, anyway."

Barret remained silent for a long time, and said, "Yeah. . . Actually, I had'n idea when y'said whatcha said'n Cosmo Canyon. 'Bout it bein' a long time'n all. Dunno jus' why I'd think it based'n that. Lots'o'people come fr'm 'at place."

"Including the man who started AVALANCHE, I know. Yes, it was me."

Barret nodded, and said, "Tell me 'bout it. How c'd a guy fr'm Cosmo Canyon start up an' outfit like AVALANCHE, 'n then join up wi'their enemies?"

"Long story. Are you sure you want to hear it? It's a bit sordid." The cat's face was solemn.

"Think I need t'hear't, C- Reeve."

The cat settled itself into something that looked like a comfortable position, mirroring the movements of its controller, and then said, "I suppose I should start with when I left my home in the canyon.

"I was only fifteen when Bugenhagen sent me to Midgar. He told me he'd seen my soul, and knew I was meant for greater things than Cosmo Canyon. When I asked him what he meant, he only smiled. Then, he handed me a gun - to this day, I have no idea where he acquired such a thing - and sent me on my way, telling me only of a city of machinery to the east of home. I was to go there, and join something called the 'Turks.' At that point, I had no idea who or what these Turks were, but I knew that Bugenhagen was seldom wrong about these kinds of things, so I went east.

"I had a little trouble getting through customs in Costa Del Sol, dressed as I was in fairly primitive garb, but, aside from that and a run-in by chocobo with one of the Midgar Zolom's nastier relatives in the swamps, the journey was long but uneventful.

"But Midgar was incredible, constructed almost entirely from machines, and. . . Well, I guess you already know what Midgar's like. Anyway, when you come from a place like Cosmo Canyon, Midgar's a very strange place. And when your first impression is of the slums, then you're both overawed and depressed. The very lack of sunlight is disturbing, but, then, I guess you know that, too.

"I spent a year just finding my way, there. I asked about, looking for information on these Turks, but no one was very forthcoming. However, I did find out quite a bit about Shinra. It wasn't much, but it was enough to know I didn't like them. They were a corrupt company. That much was clear.

"In my year's stay, I had made a few friends in Midgar, and we all sort of put up together in the Sector 7 slums. Biggs, Wedge, Jessie. . . They were my friends, for a short time. We did our best to stand up for the downtrodden in Midgar, but we were really only four people standing up to a whole city of corruption. We might have saved a life, here and there - mostly people Shinra's soldiers were chasing for one reason or another - but we hardly put a dent in Shinra's armor. And, all the time, something I'd heard about Shinra nagged at me."

"Th'Mako reactors?" mumbled Barret, who was now well on his way toward drunk.

"Yes. I'd been raised to know a lot about the Lifestream, and what they were doing was putting the Planet itself in danger. I'd explained this to the others, and it was Wedge who came up with the idea of fighting Shinra directly. We started with fliers. . .

"It was while actually in the act of putting up these fliers that I was captured by one of the Turks, a grey-haired man, and the black- haired youth he was training. I'd never seen them previously, or even heard of them. Damned if I know why. Whatever the reason, I at first mistook them for a pair of uppity men in suits. He inquired as to what I was doing, putting up these fliers in Wall Market, and I explained to him about me and my friends - I never gave names, of course; I wasn't stupid - and about the dangers of Shinra's rule.

"The man with the grey hair nodded to the youth - he called him Tseng."

"I'll b'damned," said Barret.

"Yeah. He and I are roughly the same age. He's actually a couple years younger, I think. . . Yeah, I'm looking at his file, right now. . . He was inducted into the Turks at age fourteen, so he's about thirty-two, now.

"Anyway, Tseng nodded unsmilingly, and came toward me, incapacitating me with surprising economy of movement, for a smaller boy. He caused no unnecessary injury or pain. He was just a kid doing a job. Looking back on it, I would later find some respect for the boy inside of me. At the time, though, I was angry. I mean, there I was, a sixteen-year-old youth, being bested by a kid two years my junior. But they took me in to Shinra headquarters.

"Tseng came to see me frequently in the sixty-seventh floor holding cells, and told me that I would probably be executed for open rebellion against the city itself. He didn't seem to feel either joy or sorrow at my predicament. He'd probably been trained that way. We were both surprised, however, when Heidegger came down one day, and offered me a job in the Turks.

"I, of course, was a little surprised, but I accepted the offer. Bugenhagen had sent me to join them, after all, although the reason for that is still unclear to me. And. . . I suppose I just didn't want to die, either. If joining the Turks could keep me alive, I was willing to make that sacrifice. So I began my training.

"I'm not going to bore you with the specifics of the incident which ended in my transfer to Shinra's Urban Development department. Let's just say I could never really see Shinra's side in any of the problems they had with Midgar's citizens.

"When all was said and done, I was in Urban Development, where it was discovered that I had a knack for helping to clean up Shinra's messes. Yippee.

"Some years passed, and Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie continued to put up unsigned fliers about the danger Shinra posed for the Planet. Eventually, they did begin to leave their mark. At the bottom of each flier was the word AVALANCHE. It was a good idea, but, even so, the President used it against them. They were marked as a terrorist group, and Shinra staged an 'accident' in Sector 2, and blamed it on them. That was the first time things really got bad.

"Then, I was around to hear about the destruction of your hometown, Barret. I had nothing to do with it personally, but I was still a part of it. All of the Shinra employees were. I think that must have been the point where I gave up trying to work from behind enemy lines. I'd actually fallen in with the enemy, and I knew it.

"When I heard that AVALANCHE was on the rise, with a new guy at the head, I gained a little hope. If my former friends were really going public, then they must have had something planned. The new leader, a big guy, had a serious hate-on for Shinra, after the slaughter at North Corel. Barret, I don't know what I can say, but. . . you gave me hope. That's all there is to it.

"Nothing happened for another five years, or so. . . Then, I heard about some new guy, claiming to be a SOLDIER, but fighting for AVALANCHE. I heard that AVALANCHE had blown up a Mako reactor, and then another. You had the Turks mightily upset, you know. Even moreso than the President. The order was given to destroy the Sector 7 Slums.

"I tried to convince the President that there had to be another way of taking care of this, but he was determined to wipe you guys out, once and for all. . . They dropped the plate, and people died. Biggs, Wedge, Jessie. . . That's one of the reasons I fight alongside you all, now. Shinra's destroyed countless lives, and put the very Planet in danger."

Barret nodded unsteadily. He opened his mouth to speak, pointing at Cait Sith. He didn't say anything, however. He just lowered his hand again, and took another long drink. Then, he opened his mouth, and said, "Sh'r's nex', Ruv. F'ss Seph, 'en th'Sh'ra." He nodded again, this time more enthusiastically, before sliding sideways off his stool and landing on the floor.

People glanced their way, but then went back to what they'd been doing. Reeve sighed.

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Yuffie sat there in silence, and Cid waited on her response. Explaining to someone that they are formerly deceased is by no means a simple task. Explaining that Jenova had prevented Ifalna from resurrecting her own daughter but allowed her to raise a total stranger from death was no easier. When he'd begun to relate things to Yuffie in earnest, she'd at first laughed. When he hadn't even cracked a smile, the laughter had tapered off and the young ninja had just goggled at him.

He puffed away at his last cigarette as Yuffie stared palefaced at the table. Her untouched coke (which he'd finally allowed her to have mixed with rum) was raised to her lips, and she downed it in a few long gulps. Then, she'd smiled a little, and said, "Oh, is that it?"

This caused him to inhale sharply. His cigarette lodged in the back of his throat, and he began to choke. Hacking wetly, he spat the sodden cancer-stick out onto the table, glad it had gone out on the way in and at the same time sorry to see it wasted. He nodded, still coughing.

Still smiling, she said, "Looks like I'm gonna have some stories to tell when I get home." She giggled.

He grinned sheepishly. Showed how much he knew about kids. "If we're lucky, y'll be home soon. 'N th'meantime, guess w'should &#^@*$ round up th'others'n-"

A man said, "I'm sorry, but I couldn't help overhearing you talking about Ifalna. Are you friends of hers?"

Caught totally off-guard, Cid was speechless. Yuffie, on the other hand, was not. "You could say that. Who are you?"

The man was largish, and sporting an apologetic expression, which offset his heavy build and overabundance of facial hair, which had apparently migrated from the top of his head. He chuckled. "Sorry, fellas. I didn't mean to startle ya. Name's Morgan. It's just that I don't think I've seen you two around here, before. You with the weird pair over at the bar?" As he said this, as if to make a point of the fact, there was a loud thump. Morgan, Cid, and Yuffie all looked up to see Reeve attempting to help Barret back onto his stool. The large, black man was swaying quite badly, obviously drunk. Cid swore.

"Yeah. Them, too," he said.

"Well, this might seem a little odd, but I wouldn't have expected out- of-towners to know much about Ifalna. How's she doing?" Morgan pulled a chair over, apparently taking their notice of him as an invitation to do so.

Cid replied, "Uh. . . Well. . . Y'see. . . Uh, jus' how d'ya know'er, again?" Curiosity pounded in his already throbbing head.

Morgan laughed. "Yup! Ya know'er alright! No one ever knows a Cetra without bein' careful around the topic. . ." He stopped for a moment, and said, "You guys work for the Shinra?"

"Huh? Uh, &#^@ no. Why?"

Morgan laughed again. "'Course ya don't. Shinra already got'er. . . Why would they come back?"

"Lissen, pal. Ya gonna &#^@*$ get t'the point any time soon? This's gettin' real &#^@*$ old, real &#^@*$ quick." Cid already wanted another smoke.

Morgan was decidedly a good-natured if obtuse fellow, which he proved by laughing again. "Okay, okay. So how is she?"

"She's been &#^@*$ dead fer over twenny &#^@*$ years. Whaddaya want?"

Morgan, to Cid's surprise, looked absolutely crestfallen at this news. "Damn. I'd heard she escaped from Shinra. . ."

In as pleasant a voice as his growing bad mood could muster, Cid said, "Didja know Ifalna?"

"Know'er? Most everyone in this town knew'er! She was well-loved 'round these parts. She was always really nice to whoever she met, and tried to lend a hand with things wherever she could. . . Lived in a house, over by the snowboarding slope, with some kinda doctor who worked for Shinra. . ."

"What? Doctor?" Cid got up from his seat, and grabbed Morgan by the collar. He said, "This's real &#^@*$ important. What was th'name o' the doctor?"

Morgan, looking understandably unsettled, said, "Damned if I know! Geez. . . Y'can probably find out at their house!"

Cid allowed this to soak in, and then nodded. Letting go of Morgan, he asked, "Where's that?"

Yuffie put her face forward, resting it on her arms, and went to sleep. Cid grumbled, and Morgan began to respond.

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Vincent stood in the snow at the top of the slope, looking down at it. Presumably, beyond it lay the Great Glacier. Beyond that, the Northern Crater, where, if Ifalna was to be believed, they would find Sephiroth. Things were coming to a head.

Someone had once told him an Ancient had lived in Icicle Inn, and that, as far as she knew, the house was still there. This, of course, had been twenty-three years previous, but it wouldn't hurt to take a look. He turned around to begin his search and saw a familiar suited form standing up at top of the light slope on which the town lay. He groaned inwardly as the blond-haired woman said, "There's one of them! Hurry!" Flanked by two Shinra guards, Elena of the Turks came running down toward him.

He stood and watched as she neared, finally skidding to a halt with even less grace than he would have expected. She stopped, panting to catch her breath as both guards watched her, each with a bored expression on his face. Vincent totally agreed with the sentiment. Finally, still breathing heavily, she said, "Valentine. . . I won't let you and yours go any further!"

"You really think that you and a few guards can stop us?" Daylight was wasting. Why now, of all times?

Elena went red, and her voice began to go shrill. "Yes! I do! You aren't getting away with what you did to my boss!"

"Your boss? Tseng? As I recall, we kept him from dying."

"He's gonna be executed because of you all!" She paused for a moment, and Vincent thought he saw tears in her eyes. Then, her face twisted into a snarl, and she threw a punch. Vincent easily dodged it, turning to the side. Elena gave out a yell of surprise as the force of the punch made her lose her balance, causing her to trip and start rolling down the slope. She began to pick up speed in her tumble, and both guards ran after her. Vincent shook his head.

"Vincent!" said a voice, and he turned again, this time to see Nanaki running toward him. The Cosmo Canyon native slid to a halt in front of him and said, "I've been looking all over for you guys! I need someone with fingers, dammit!" Vincent stood and waited for him to explain, but he didn't. Instead, after a few moments, the feline said, "Come on, let me show you what I found!" and ran back the way he came. Vincent followed quickly and silently behind.

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The electronic equipment which dominated one side of the house appeared rather haphazard to Vincent, and far beyond operation, but he decided to give it a shot, anyway. He was having minimal success when the door opened, letting in a gust of cold air. He turned to look as Cid stepped in, knocking the snow off his boots by banging them loudly on the steps. He looked up at them, and grinned in what was more a snarl than anything.

"Hey, Cid! Guess whose house this is!" said Nanaki.

"'Falna's."

"Uh, good guess. I found some stuff with her name on it, what about you?"

"Some guy at th'bar told me 'bout this place. She'n some &#^@*$ doc from Shinra shacked up 'ere for a few years. If it was &#^@*$ Hojo, I'm gonna &#^@*$ break somethin'. Then, I'm gonna find a way t'&#^@*$ talk ta her again. I got some questions for her."

Vincent spoke up. "I doubt it was him. Cid, can you fix this monitor?"

The Captain grinned, reaching for the cigarette which wasn't there. When he realized this fact, the grin disappeared. Even so, he said, "Move outta th'way. Ol' Cid'll 'ave this baby up'n runnin' in a jiff! Hey, kittie-cat, why doncha go t'the store'n get me some &#^@*$ smokes while yer at it, eh? Now, lessee what's wrong wi'this thing. . ."

Nanaki nodded, and climbed the steps to the door. Rearing up on his hind legs, he pawed at the handle until it opened, and left, allowing the wind to blow it shut behind him.

Vincent examined the various journals and texts in the room. "The man seems to be a biologist by the name of Professor Gast. Relieved?"

"Damn right," called Cid, his voice sounding hollow from its current position in an opening at the base of the machine. "Got good news and bad news. Which ya want first?"

"Either works."

"Okay, bad news first. I can't fix this &#^@*$ thing. It's just too old, been broken fer too long."

"And the good news?"

"Two things. First, this's a video-player, and hasn't actually gone yet. If we're lucky, it'll run fer a few minutes. Second, lookit what I found in here. . ." He pulled his head out, reached his arms in, and grabbed four video tapes. He tossed them to Vincent, one-by-one, and the ex-Turk caught them, looking at the labels.

"'The Original Crisis,' 'What is "Weapon?"' 'Confidential: Daughter Record, 10th Day After Birth,' 'Confidential: 20th Day After Birth. . .' Tapes about Aeris and her mother. Let's put them in and see what's on them." Cid nodded. Vincent set three of the tapes on the table, and walked over to the monitor. He scanned all the little dials and buttons, until he found a switch marked "Power." He pressed it. There was a grinding noise, the cracking sparks, and the screen roared into life. He found the tape slot, and inserted the tape marked "The Original Crisis." He and Cid watched each video in what they guessed was the proper order from the numbers on the labels.

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The Original Crisis

A voice said, "Camera's ready."

The video appeared to be of this very room, only in much better shape. Standing by a console was a man in a lab coat, and, standing by the table, was a woman with chestnut hair. Cid's breath caught. It was Ifalna. The man turned around to reveal a boyish face, offset by a thick mustache. The man said, "Then, Ifalna, please tell us about the Cetra."

Ifalna took a deep breath, and began. "Two thousand years ago, our ancestors, the Cetra, heard the cries of the Planet. The first ones to discover the Planet's wound were the Cetra at the Knowlespole."

"Tell us, Ifalna. . . Where is the land called 'Knowlespole'?"

"Knowlespole refers to this area. The Cetra here began a Planet- reading."

"Ifalna, what exactly does a Planet-reading entail?" inquired the man whom Cid now assumed was Professor Gast. He'd known of the man previously, but had been very young when news of the professor's death reached the world. He hadn't ever seen him before.

Ifalna paused. ". . .I can't explain it very well, but it's like having a conversation with the Planet. . . It said something fell from the sky, making a large wound. Thousands of Cetra pulled together, trying to heal the Planet. . . But, due to the severity of the wound, it was only able to heal itself, over many years.

"Do the Ancients, rather, the Cetra, have special powers to heal the Planet?"

"No, it's not that kind of power. The life force of all living things on this Planet becomes the energy. The Cetra tried desperately to cultivate the land so as not to diminish the needed energy. . ." Ifalna's voice cracked.

Not noticing, Gast said, thinking out loud, "Hmm. . . Even here so close to the North Cave, the snow never melts." Then, he asked, "Is that because the Planet's energy is gathered here to heal its injury?"

"Yes, the energy that was needed to heal the Planet withered away the land. . . then the Planet. . . The Planet tried to persuade the Cetra to leave the Knowlespole, but. . ." She seemed on the verge of crying, now.

Gast, apparently sensing this, said, "Ifalna, let's take a break."

She shook her head. "I'm alright. . ." Continuing on, she said, "When the Cetra. . . were preparing to part with the land they loved. . . That's when it appeared! It looked like. . . our. . . our dead mothers. . . and our dead brothers. Showing us spectres of their past."

"Who is the person that appeared at the North Cave? I haven't any idea."

"That was when the one who injured the Planet. . . or the 'crisis from the sky,' as we call him, came. He first approached as a friend, deceiving them, and finally. . . he gave them the virus. The Cetra were attacked by the virus and went mad. . . transforming into monsters. Then, just as he had at the Knowlespole, he approached other Cetra clans. . . infecting them with. . . the virus. . ." She paused.

Gast said, "You don't look well. . . Let's call it a day."

What is "Weapon"?

"Ifalna, can you comment on the thing called 'Weapon?'" asked Professor Gast.

Standing in her usual place, she said, "Yes, Professor. The one the Professor mistook for a Cetra. . . was named Jenova. That is the 'crisis from the sky.' The Planet knew it had to destroy the 'crisis from the sky'. . . You see, as long as Jenova exists, the Planet will never be able to fully heal itself."

"Back then, Weapon was a weapon the Planet produced of its own will?"

"Yes, but. . . there is no record of Weapon ever being used. A small number of the surviving Cetra defeated Jenova, and confined it. The Planet produced Weapon. . . but it was no longer necessary to use it."

"So, then, Weapon no longer exists on this Planet?"

"Weapon cannot vanish. . . .It remains asleep somewhere on the Planet. Even though Jenova is confined, it could come back to life at some time. . . The Planet itself has not fully healed itself yet. It is still, watching Jenova."

Gast paused for a moment, and then asked, "Where is Weapon?"

"I don't know. . . I can't hear the voice of the Planet well. . . Times. . . have changed. The Planet. . . is probably watching this situation closely."

Another pause. ". . .Thank you, Ifalna, that will be all for today. . ."

Confidential: Aeris 10 Days After Birth

This one remained in total darkness for the entirety of the tape.

Ifalna's voice said, "What are you doing, Profes. . . I mean, honey?"

Gast's answered, "Oh, I'm thinking of taping it on video. But the video's not working right. . ."

"What are you going to tape? Is there still something I haven't mentioned?"

"No, that's not it. I'm going to record my beautiful daughter. And, when she's sleeping, her face. . . looks like an angel."

"First, we have to figure out her name. We can take the video later!"

Gast responded proudly, "I've already decided! If it's a girl, then it'll be Aeris. That's that!"

Ifalna giggled. "You are SO selfish! But Aeris is a good name!" The giggle started to turn into a laugh as she added, "It's a good name, considering it came out of that forgetful head of yours!"

"Right!? Oh, the video tape. . ." This last was a mystery to Cid and Vincent, and would remain that way, even after the final tape of Gast's and Ifalna's life together.

Confidential: Aeris 20 Days After Birth

Gast was standing by the console again. Ifalna appeared from off- camera, approaching him. She said, "Video again? You just got through taping!"

Gast replied plaintively, ". . . .Please don't say it that way. It's our lovely daughter, both yours. . . and mine! Don't you want to capture her childhood on videotape?"

Ifalna planted her hands on her hips, and said, "If you keep doting on her like that, she won't grow up to be strong. . . Aeris is different from the other children." She paused, and said softly, "I wonder what dangers await her. . .?"

Gast answered with a fair bit of nervous energy. "Never say that! I will protect you and Aeris no matter what!!" He reached forward, placing his hands on her shoulders. "You and Aeris are my only treasures. I'll never let you go!!"

Ifalna nodded, and answered, "I feel so much better now, darling." She paused. "If I hadn't met you, I. . ."

There was a knock on the door. As Ifalna went to answer it, Cid had a feeling in his gut that told him it wasn't someone she ought to let in. He silently pleaded for her to stop, stay with Gast, as the average moviegoer always does, but he knew what was going to happen. She opened the door, and cried out, running back to her husband, who placed himself between her and the men coming through the door. The man in the lead was a bespectacled, young-looking man with dark hair and a lab-coat. He was some years younger, but it was undeniably Hojo, and both Cid and Vincent recognized him immediately.

Hojo snickered. "I've been searching for you, Ifalna. . . or should I say, Cetra! Long time no see, Professor Gast!"

Incredulously, Gast said, "Hojo. . . How did you know?"

The crazed biologist replied, "Believe me, I had to turn over a stone or two to find you. Two years I waited. . . That's how much I wanted this new sample. . ." He laughed coldly. Obviously confident that the guards would protect him, he turned away to look at all the little pieces of machinery in the room.

Gast stared in disbelief. ". . .New sample? You don't mean Aeris!?"

Distractedly, Hojo replied, "Hmm, Aeris? What a nice name. . ." He laughed again, sounding a bit like a squawking bird.

Gast answered angrily, "That's it! I'm severing all ties with the Shinra." His head dropped dejectedly to his chest as he said, "Hojo, please leave."

Ifalna ran forward and dropped to her knees behind Hojo. She pleaded, "Please, Aeris has nothing to do with it! All you want is me, right?" Hojo turned around to look at her, a little surprised. The guards had their rifles pointed at both her and Gast. He waved away the muzzle aimed at the Cetra. Gast cried out her name, an action which went completely unnoticed.

The madman said simply, "I'll need all of you for my experiment." He turned from Ifalna to face her husband. "You understand don't you, Professor Gast? We can change the future of the Planet!"

Gast knelt to look Ifalna in the eyes, and said, "Don't worry, Ifalna. I'll take care of this!"

Hojo, sensing the man's intentions, said in an annoyed tone, "Please don't put up a fight. I don't want any harm to come to my precious sample." He turned to face the screen, and said, "Mmm? What a funny- looking camera. Guard! Destroy it!" One of the guards - the one who'd previously had his rifle pointed at Ifalna - raised his gun and fired a shot through the camera. The screen went dark. "Be careful with her!" He laughed again, this time in triumph. There was a thud, and Hojo's surprised response. "Wh. . . what are you doing, Professor!?"

Gast's voice yelled, "Ifalna! Take Aeris and run!!" A moment later, there was a gunshot, and the Professor screamed in pain.

Ifalna sobbed, "Darling. . .!!"

Hojo could be heard breathing, even over Ifalna's crying. Then, he said, "Oh, and uh. . . don't forget the child!" Another moment, and he said, "Hmm, a video? The Ancients. . . Weapon!?" He sniggered crazily. "A mountain of treasure! Thank-you, Professor. . ." He laughed out loud, and the laughter was cut off as Cid and Vincent heard the outer door open and then close.

After that, there was silence, although the tape kept right on running. There'd been no one around to stop it until it reached the end of its reel. But, Cid asked himself, then who'd stashed the videos down in that panel where he'd been poking around?

Cid and Vincent exchanged glances, and Cid removed the last tape, taking a look at it. The label was different, somehow. He picked up the others, and laid them out on the table, side-by-side, examining them. The first three looked to be of a different brand or type. Then, the last one, which just looked old. Then, he looked again at the labels. Vincent, who was looking over his shoulder, said, "The hand is different."

Cid grunted, and Vincent leaned around him, pointing at the handwriting on the fourth tape. "The hand is different from the others. Neater. I'll wager that one was the original. The other three are copies. Hojo took the originals, and left copies for people to find."

The Captain shook his head, and replied, "He wou'n' wanna leave 'at fourth'n fer just anyone t'find. It was someone else."

"Someone else. Who could possibly have the opportunity?"

Cid didn't know, but he knew of someone who might. He looked around. "Th'hell's Nanaki with my &#^@*$ smokes?"

**************************************************************************** ********************

Nanaki nosed in the door of the general store to see Cloud and Tifa at the counter. They were busy haggling with the shopowner. Nanaki guessed it would be a few minutes before they were done. He opted to look around while he waited.

There was a display case full of weapons off to the side, which a young boy was trying to polish with a rag. The boy was trying, but he was too short to reach all the way up. He jumped up and down gamely, but the upper portions of the glass remained out of reach.

Nanaki wandered over, and looked up at the youngster. The boy didn't notice him. He cleared his throat, and the boy still took no notice. Finally, he said, "Hey. Kid."

The child looked around at this, and it took a moment for him to realize that the cat next to him was the only one looking at him. He stared for a moment, shook his head, and went back to jumping at the glass. Finally, Nanaki said, "Would you like some help?"

The boy froze, his head slowly turning to look at him. The boy just stared for a moment. The feline said, "Yes, yes, I'm a talking cat. Why do you humans have so much trouble with this? You believe in the Lifestream, and in a greater race of beings who once ruled the Planet, but this causes heart palpitations. Geez. . ."

"You. . . you're talking."

Nanaki sighed, and hung his head. "Yes! I'm talking! Look at me talk! Woo! Talking cat! Now, it looks like you could use a little help getting those hard-to-reach areas. Would you, or would you not like some?"

A pause. The boy nodded. Nanaki nodded back, and inched forward, his head, neck and shoulders as low to the ground as he could get them. The boy hesitated, then stepped up onto his back. Nanaki rose to his full height. "Whoa!" The kid giggled. As the youngster set to work, Nanaki tried to make conversation.

"What's your name, kiddo?" he asked, testing out one of Cid's less repellant words. It felt strange on his tongue, but he liked it. Certainly, he could get used to it.

"Bartleby, sir."

"Sir," repeated Nanaki, and he chuckled. "Well, Bartleby, it's okay. You don't have to call me sir. I'm not really much older than yourself, physiologically. Just call me Red."

"I'd rather not."

"Oh?"

"My dad doesn't like me to socialize with strangers. He says any one of them could be dangerous."

"But how are you supposed to make new friends?"

No answer. Nanaki held as still as he could for a long time, staring at the floorboards, careful not to jostle the youth on top of him. Judging from what the boy's father - presumably the man at the counter - thought of strangers, breaking the glass by accident would be very bad indeed. After a couple of moments, he said, "Bartleby?"

"Yeah?"

"What can you tell me about this little town?"

"There isn't much to tell, sir."

"What about that little house next door?"

"Oh, Professor Gast's house?"

Surprised, Nanaki said, "Is that who lived there?"

"Yeah, he and that nice lady, 'Falna."

"I think that must have been before your time, Bartleby."

"My uncle told me about them. How 'Falna and Gast were really nice people, and then Shinra came'n took them away to live somewhere else."

Nanaki had no idea if this was true, but he said, "Your uncle was right. He must be a really smart man."

A note of pride entered Bartleby's voice. "Yeah! He's the mayor of the whole town! Everyone thinks he's smart!"

"What's his name, if I may ask?"

"Morgan Deschain. Wanna meet him, later?"

"Absolutely, Sir Bartleby! That'd be great!"

Nanaki forgot all about Cid's cigarettes as he continued to converse with Bartleby about all manner of things. He was in the middle of telling the youngster all about Cosmo Canyon, having not even noticed Cloud and Tifa leaving, a few minutes previous, when things exploded outside.

**************************************************************************** ********************

Somewhere down the snowboarding slope, two Shinra guards stood, looking around frantically.

"Captain, I think we've lost her!"

"Shit. Vicks, get on the radio. Call in the reinforcements!"

"Yessir!" replied Vicks, promptly doing so.

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The guards blockading the town's access to the outer reaches of the Northern Continent parted to allow the captain's "reinforcements" passage into Icicle Inn. An improved version of the Motor Ball which Cloud, Barret, Nanaki, Aeris, and Tifa had faced on the way out of Midgar rolled through, flanked by twelve SOLDIERs, First Class, on snowmobiles.

Cloud and Tifa emerged from the store with armloads of snowboards and various weapons for everyone else. Tifa was wearing a new pair of gloves, each of which was adorned with three blades that jutted forward when she made a fist. They were so intent on their loot that neither noticed as they wandered directly in front of the Motor Ball Mk II.

"There they are! Get them!" cried one of the SOLDIERs, gunning the engine on his snowmobile. Cloud and Tifa both looked up in surprise at this. Snow flew up behind him as he flew toward them, the others following. The Motor Ball Mk II stayed put, blocking the way back.

Cloud grabbed Tifa's hand, dropping his armload of equipment. He kept two snowboards. Thrusting one into Tifa's hands, he said, "The slope! Now!" The pair slid in the snow as they made for the slope leading onto the glacier. They were too slow and too far, though. The 'mobiles easily overtook them.

Three of the SOLDIERs blocked their path, while the rest stopped in a rough circle around the pair. Cloud skidded to a halt, grabbing Tifa's arm as he did so, and looked around frantically. There was no hole to take advantage of.

A large SOLDIER hopped off of his snowmobile. There was a strange, flat sound coming from within his helmet, which Cloud only identified as laughter when the man removed it. His long, dark-brown (black?) hair spilled down over his shoulders, which shook with laughter. Finally, he calmed down, and, still chuckling, said, "Where d'you think you're going, eh? The glacier, perhaps? Hmm?" His broad frame finally stopped shaking, and he became quite serious. "Where are the rest, Strife?"

Tifa leaned in close to Cloud, and said, "Do you know these guys?"

Cloud shook his head, which the leader obviously took for denial. "Fine, then. Meguesses we'll just have to raze 'is podunk little tourist trap, then, right?"

Cloud immediately said, "That won't be necessary. Uh, if you want to keep this clean, you'll have to answer a couple questions for me." Cloud touched a hand to his PHS, sending a signal to one of the receivers. He had no idea which one, and it didn't matter which at that precise moment.

"Sorry, Strife. Not authorized, doncha know."

"Is that so? Well, I'll bet your bosses would appreciate you not decimating a defenseless tourist community in the name of the Shinra." He smiled.

The man's face darkened, causing a white scar to appear, previously unnoticed, along his jawline on the left side of his face. He narrowed his eyes, and said, "Methinks y'aren't in any position to bargain, my friend."

Cloud grinned cheekily. "Maybe not, but that doesn't change the fact that Rufus can't really afford to have a squad of his own men destroy Icicle Inn. Now, are you ready to talk?" Cloud sized up the man before him, and thought he might actually be able to take him in armed combat. Too bad he had eleven of his pals along with him.

The SOLDIER looked him up and down. Apparently deciding that a little talk might be okay (and very obviously unaware of the way the new President Shinra viewed things like diplomacy), he nodded, his jaw clenched. "Whatchu want?"

**************************************************************************** ********************

Barret was a big man. No, scratch that, he was massive. Standing 6'4", and, at the age of thirty-five, a veteran drinker, he was not only large, but what Reno undoubtedly would have called a muscle-brain. Indeed, his arms, chest, legs, back, neck, and even head were thickly corded with pure muscle, lending quite a lot to his total body mass. Therefore, is it any real surprise that, although he'd been completely intoxicated only two hours previous, he was now partly recovered, albeit nursing one mad bastard of a headache?

Barret clutched at his forehead, the pain incredibly intense. His eyes were clenched tight and he gritted his teeth. "Shi'. Hurts like a bitch. . ." He grunted, trying to use his gun-arm to keep the bright sunlight streaming through the inn's windows from reaching his reddened eyes. The room was fairly small, with three single-beds, which meant that any sunlight getting through that window would light up the entire room. If he could have he would have punched the sun in the face for being so inconsiderate as to shine when he was hung over.

Asleep on another of the beds was Yuffie. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks and nose both bright red. She was muttering something about materia as she slept. It was clear to the enormous former miner that she'd been in the sauce herself. Cid was getting an ear-full for that one.

He rubbed his eyes with the thumb and forefinger of his hand, and then levered himself to his feet from the bed, where he'd been sitting. Swaying a tad, he almost sat down again. Then he didn't, instead opting to go to the minibar. Opening it, he scanned the contents. His eyes came to rest on a bottle with a bright blue label. Cetra Brand Rum. Somehow, this put him off the idea of drinking. He shut it again.

He wandered back to the bed and lowered himself carefully back onto the rumpled blanket. He closed his eyes, hoping to go to sleep. Suddenly, his head felt like it was splitting open, as an electronic ringing filled the air. His eyes felt like they were bulging out of their sockets as he rolled out of the bed, hitting the floor hard and face first. Gasping in pain, he did a push-up, almost throwing himself to his feet, and staggered toward the window, where, of course, more pain was inflicted by sunlight.

He shut his eyes with a growl, and grabbed blindly at the little table which sat there. On his second grab - the first was a lamp, which he crushed in his hand - he came up with his PHS receiver. Immediately, he flipped the switch on the side, and hollered into it, "THIS BETTER BE GOOD!" As he yelled, his eyes opened just a little, and he was able to see out the window. What he saw made him wonder if he wasn't still passed out in that damned bar.

He heard, through the receiver, "Whatcha got there, eh?" The voice was unfamiliar. He watched as the man without the helmet strode toward Cloud, his gun aimed. . .

Barret's eyes widened, and the pain, coupled with snow-glare, went totally unnoticed. His next impulse was one he didn't think about. He ran at the window, closing his eyes, and keeping his arms ahead of him. It shattered around him, delivering a number of cuts all over his arms, face and chest. Then there was no more floor to run on, and he dropped like a ton of bricks, sending up large plumes of powdery snow when he collided with the ground. Miraculously, he landed on his feet and hands, uninjured except for all the gouges the glass had left in his skin. Shaking the loose shards from him, he rose, and ran forward, shouting obscenities about the dark-haired man's mother and her relations with the local chocobos.

Barret, though a large man, could be a fast runner when angry, not unlike a pissed-off grizzly bear. And he had just as much consideration for men, women, children, little old ladies, cute furry things, and walls. Luckily for him, it happened to be men. Men are not rooted to the ground, and, when smaller than Barret, as they normally are, they tend to become airborne upon impact. Three did so, bowling over the other nine.

Cloud and Tifa had thrown themselves to the ground. Getting up, Cloud said, "Wow. That was unique." He looked about him at the scattered SOLDIERs. "I think we should round up the troops before the happy SOLDIER over there wakes up." He aimed a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the dark-haired man, already getting to his feet. Then, Barret heard something. As did Cloud and Tifa.

**************************************************************************** ********************

Nanaki was just lowering Bartleby to the floor again when he heard a loud rumbling, like an engine revving. A big one. After a moment's pause, they both ran to one of the storefront windows.

The shop owner, ostensibly Bartleby's father, continued to nap in his chair behind the counter as Nanakie pulled himself to his hind legs, bracing himself against the glass with his forepaws.

Outside, he saw what looked a lot like the Motor Ball they'd fought when they'd escaped Midgar. This one, though, was different. Where the very prominant spiked wheels had been on the other one, there were now treads and runners. This one had been designed specifically for the snowy climate of the Northern Continent. Why in the Planet's name would they have something like it? They had helicopters to take them wherever in the world they needed to go.

It was moving down into the town, directly toward the centermost house. On the other side of the small structure stood Cloud, Tifa, and Barret. Obviously very aware of the noise, they were typically unaware of the peril it implied. Nanaki ran for the door. He pawed at the knob, for a second, then looked to Bartleby for help. Bartleby looked at him for a moment, and then nodded. He ran to the door and opened it for him, saying, "Come back some time, Mr. Red!"

Nanaki gave him a somewhat forced grin, and said, "Count on it." Then, he bolted out into the snow, making a beeline for the three AVALANCHE members. He barely noticed the dark-haired man whose face he shoved into the snow and whose head he kicked, so focussed was he on the others. He stopped gracefully before Cloud, and said, "We need to go! Now!"

Cloud, nodding, said, "Just let us get the others. . ."

That was when the adapted Motor Ball crashed over the small house which stood between it and them. Only a few yards away, the house toppled and was crushed beneath the vehicle's weight like a cardboard box.

Barret muttered, "Shi'! Hope no one w's home!" even as he grabbed for one of the snowmobiles which stood in a rough circle around them. Tifa and Cloud grabbed their snowboards, and the four of them made for the slope and relative safety. Nanaki was the first onto the slope, followed by Cloud and Tifa, a board under each of them, and then Barret on snowmobile, who kept taking his eyes off the slope ahead to send a few volleys of gunfire at their pursuers.

For their part, the SOLDIERs were already getting back on their snowmobiles and chasing with the Motor Ball close behind, roaring loudly as it picked up speed. As it half propelled itself, half slid down the slope, small rivulets of white powder began to slide after it.

**************************************************************************** ********************

At the top of the slope, Sergeant Packer was stomping around in the snow, howling for AVALANCHE while shooting off his rifle at anyone unfortunate enough to come too close. He was angry and out of control. The two SOLDIERs who he'd kept back to guard the slope and make sure no one else escaped onto the glacier thought many times about putting a stop to it, in much the same manner a lazy man might think how he really should clean the attic. In other words, they followed orders and stood there.

**************************************************************************** ********************

Cid and Vincent were back at the pub, sitting at a table across from Morgan, when Reeve hopped over. Cid looked at him, and asked, "Barret?"

"I took him to the inn. Yuffie tired?"

Cid gave a hoarse laugh. "Somethin' like that."

Reeve then asked, "So what's this guy got to say that's so engrossing? You were talking to him earlier, so I assume there's something interesting."

Vincent said, "Let's let the man talk, and we'll find out."

Morgan, who'd been watching this exchange with some interest, said, with a little annoyance surfacing in his voice, "Okay. You wanted to know who made these videos, right?"

"The copies, yeah," replied Cid. "Who th'hell put'em there? Wasn't Hojo, that's fer damn sure. Gast was pretty &#^@*$ dead t'be doin' things like that. 'Falna'n Aeris din' do it. Who's left? One o' the &#^@*$ guards?"

Morgan grinned. "It wasn't me, if that's what you're thinking. I didn't even know about the damn videos. All I knew is Shinra went'n took Ifalna and her daughter. Later, though. . . that's a different story."

Reeve said, "Why? What happened?"

"One of those suited guys Shinra's got workin' for 'em came around not too long after. Stopped in here, asking about Ifalna's home. He looked pretty tired. Grey hair. Carried himself with a surprising amount of reluctance. I told 'im I didn't know anything. He sighed pretty loudly, and said that his boss was going to have the town destroyed if he couldn't get in there. Pretty &#^@*$ persuasive, if you ask me, pardon my language."

Cid looked confused, "Why? What's wrong with it?" He looked at Reeve and Vincent, who were both looking at him strangely. "What?"

Morgan took a breath. "Uh, right, anyway, this guy - called himself Meric - and I hustled over to Gast's house. I unlocked it for him. Up until then, I'd never actually been inside the place. I'd explain what I saw, but you two've already been there, right?"

Cid nodded.

Morgan nodded in return. "It took awhile for Meric to find what he was looking for. A bunch of videos kept on a computer. Meric obviously didn't trust Hojo, because he watched the videos, one after the other. By the end, he was grinding his teeth pretty loudly. I wasn't too happy, myself, even though I already knew what had happened. I asked him if he was supposed to get rid of the records. He told me that the first three he was to copy and bring back to Shinra. Then, yes, he was to destroy the entire computer. But, Meric being a trained technician as well as a Turk, had an idea."

Vincent said, "I remember him. He made copies. He didn't care much for Shinra, Hojo in particular. I imagine that feeling only intensified when Hojo did what he did to me and. . . what he did to me. So he made copies, in the hopes that someone would someday be able to use it against Shinra."

Morgan said, "Huh. Never thought it through to that extent, but that was basically the idea I got, too."

"So this Meric guy's th'one who made th'tapes. Reeve," Cid said, turning to look at Cait Sith, "is Meric still 'round?"

Reeve answered quietly, "Not so much. He's kind of dead."

"&#^@. Had m'hopes up'n everything."

Reeve added, "We've got to bring down Shinra."

"I agree," said Vincent.

"No, you don't understand. Not just because of what they've done to the Planet, or to you, or to anyone else. Because Meric meant for Shinra to go down. He left us proof of Hojo's deception of Shinra. If President Shinra - the father, not the son - had given the order to have Gast killed, I'm really Sephiroth in disguise. He was a money-grubbing asshole and a coward. He wasn't a murderer. He would have tried to either blackmail Gast or buy him off. With this evidence, we can cause even more problems within the ranks."

Morgan said, "More? Does Shinra have a few problems?" A grin was spreading across his face.

"You could say that. Just now I-"

"Mayor Morgan! There're Shinra troops outside! They want something called AVALANCHE!" A small, pudgy man came running in. He was still covered in snow, and left a long, wet trail behind him as he jumped down the stairs.

Morgan rose from his seat, and said, "Avalanche? Shit, what the hell would they want with an avalanche?"

Cid got to his feet, saying, "Let us take care o' this, Morgan." He turned and headed for the stairs, followed by Reeve and Vincent.

**************************************************************************** ********************

They were only moments getting outside, but things had gone bad very quickly. There was a dark-haired man in a SOLDIER uniform waving a gun around and screaming, "AVALAAAAAANCHE! Come out come out wherever you are!" There were already several people dead, marked by little puffs of steam from their hot blood melting the snow beneath their corpses. Seeing the carnage, Reeve bounded out toward him.

The man turned the gun and pointed it at him. Reeve stopped in his tracks. The man said, "Y'sure weird enough. You one of the AVALANCHE blokes I was sent to nab?"

The man was clearly angry and very clearly insane. Reeve suddenly realized what he'd done. Rufus knew about the Cait Sith body he'd been using, although this man - Reeve thought he recognized him; Parker or some name like that - seemed not to. If he acted against him, he'd take the news back to the President that a cat and a moogle had been among their number, and Rufus would have Reeve himself killed. That was one of the things that caused him to stop in his tracks. The other one was much more simple. This Cait Sith body had sensors that allowed him to feel everything as though he were actually there. Would he feel the bullets ripping into his body if Parker shot him? Would it feel as though he himself had been on the receiving end?

Cid yelled, "S'right, pal! AVALANCHE's 'ere t'rectify y'&#^@*$ ass!" With that, he lifted his spear and charged at the lunatic SOLDIER, point upraised. He didn't have a chance.

The SOLDIER - Packer. His name's Packer. - changed his aim slightly, to point it at the charging Captain. Reeve took the opportunity to leap forward and grab the rifle from Packer's hands with one of the moogle's enormous fists. At the same time, he spun around to slam him in the face with the other.

Two other SOLDIERs, the pair guarding the slopes, looked at each other, and ran forward to neutralize the strange creature who'd downed their leader. When they were almost on him, Reeve dropped the gun, and rounded on them, cold-cocking both with a two-fisted smash. They fell limply to the ground.

He looked about him. Cid and Vincent were both frantically scanning the crowds. Where were the others? They weren't anywhere around, and they certainly couldn't have missed the kind of commotion that had just taken place. Then, a little boy ran up to Vincent and tugged on his cape. Vincent turned to regard the youngster with expressionless eyes. The boy said, "You looking for Mr. Red?"

"Yes, have you seen him?" replied the ex-Turk in a surprisingly gentle tone.

"A big monster chased him and some people down the hill, sir!" The boy pointed at the slope which led down onto the glacier.

Cid grunted, and said, "Let's go!" He turned and sprinted for the slope. At the very top, forming a barricade of sorts, were a pair of white snowmobiles with the word Shinra emblazoned across the sides in black lettering. Reeve bounced up beside him and looked down the slope. Way off in the distance, a white cloud of. . . something. . . could be seen. He disengaged the moogle from the cat, allowing the moogle to slump forward, falling onto its belly on the slope. Operating only the cat, now, he grabbed the ears, and started sliding down after his friends.

Cid hopped onto the snowmobile, waiting a moment for Vincent to sit down on the seat behind him, and then, revving the engine, took off down the slope.

**************************************************************************** ********************

Cid squinted through the small windshield the snowmobile provided, watching the path ahead as he rounded curve after curve with a pilot's instincts. It surprised him a little that Reeve was able to do the same on that furry body of his, but he decided that it really didn't matter.

It was less than a minute before he rounded one last curve and was confronted with the source of all of that snow which had been flying up ahead of them. It was an enormous machine of some type. A little like a tank, it was propelled along on snow-runners by two treads. He grinned. Too heavy to simply slide, it had to be pushed along. Clumsy, too. It was obviously designed for ground combat. The treads and runners must have been added later. Guess we're special, he thought. Then, he realized what it was. It was one of Shinra's Motor Balls. They were tough bastards, but they also had one glaring flaw. . .

It was being followed by a fair amount of powdery snow. It wasn't a full-fledged avalanche, just yet, but it would be soon. He couldn't risk getting too close. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Reeve swerve to the left, and then somehow speed up to squeeze by the enormous thing against the snowbank it was creating. The snow enveloped him.

He slowed the snowmobile, and then stopped it. The tank began to disappear from view again. Vincent asked, "Cid, what are you doing? It's getting away!"

"No it ain't. Get up front, Vince. Yer gonna hafta steer this &#^@*$ thing. Y'reflexes any good?"

Vincent nodded. "Hojo made sure of that." His tone carried a fair amount of bitterness, but Cid had no time to pursue it. Later.

Cid dismounted, allowing the ex-Turk to slide forward. Then, he placed his spear in its harness on his back, making sure it was secured tightly. If it caught on something when he jumped. . .

"Could you please explain what we're doing?"

"Yeah. I c'n stop that &#^@*$ thing in its tracks. Its nav circuit's right under some &#^@*$ panel on top. Just get up 'nough speed to toss this baby, then jump up top with me. Now go!"

Vincent hit the accelerator. They were off again, chasing the Motor Ball, which was already just a speck in the distance.

**************************************************************************** ********************

Neither Tifa nor Cloud had had the time to fasten themselves to their boards. While both were very agile and sharp, neither had the slightest clue how to use a snowboard, and so it wasn't long before Tifa lost her balance and toppled sideways. . . directly into Barret's free arm. He quickly hauled her aboard his snowmobile with his gun-arm, while trying to maintain a straight course with the other. Regaining her equilibrium, Tifa helped to pull herself onto the seat in front of him. Satisfied that she was relatively safe, Barret twisted around to aim his gun-arm at the pursuing hulk once more

The Motor Ball had begun to close the distance between them and Cait Sith was farther back, doing a number on the SOLDIERs who'd chased them. Three of them had been tossed, that he'd seen, and there was something crushed into the tread of the enormous machine. Barret hoped it was only a snowmobile. He tried to aim where Cait wasn't, but it was no good. There were no more clear shots at the Motor Ball, between Cait's bulk and Nanaki's erratic galloping. The cat was really working hard to keep ahead of the war machine, legs pumping madly. He was just barely matching its speed, hurdling down the slope. If he were to trip, he'd be very lucky not to kill himself. Barret finally leaned forward and yelled in Tifa's ear, "Bring th'damn thing back t'where we c'n help Cait'n Red!"

Tifa nodded, slowing them just enough to reach the motorized scrap which was going on. Seven of the SOLDIERs were still in hot pursuit, swarming around Cait and Nanaki like large flies. The group around Nanaki was where Tifa took the snowmobile. Four SOLDIERs were taking stabs at the feline with their swords, and Nanaki was bleeding from about a dozen different wounds. Barret roared as they came in range, and took a swing at the nearest with his gun-arm. There was an audible clank as the man yelled, toppling from his ride, which swerved and tipped. The man directly behind him collided with it, and his also flipped. They both fell to the side, rolling past the Motor Ball, which continued its terrible plunge along the slope. Then, the nature of its rumbling changed, and the remaining SOLDIERs cut off their chase, moving to the sides, and allowing the behemoth to pass them.

Barret made the sudden realization that the Motor Ball had now closed the distance between them to less than a metre, and instinctively leaned back, bringing his feet up to the seat, and pushing with his legs. He braced his back against the cold metal of the tank, and heaved, trying to keep them from being overrun by it. To his left, Cait Sith continued to race forward, Reeve single-minded in his determination to avoid being trampled. The cat was lying down flat on top of the moogle to reduce wind resistance, and this tactic was just barely keeping him ahead of it. To his right, Nanaki was beginning to stumble. Ahead, Cloud was somehow managing to gain momentum on his snowboard, racing far ahead, and very much out of range of the flames which then erupted from some well-concealed barrels on the upper front of the machine, shooting out about twenty feet ahead, and barely missing the four AVALANCHE members who were all but hugging the Motor Ball's front.

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Cid felt a little unease at the sight of several SOLDIERs falling back but said nothing about it as Vincent put his plan into practice. The amount of snow which had gathered behind the Motor Ball prevented them from getting too close, but they were close enough when Vincent suddenly turned the snowmobile hard to the left and jumped at the back of the combat vehicle, punching his claws directly into the metal to maintain his hold. Cid, however, was prevented from making the jump by his spear, which caught on the side of the seat. Swearing loudly, he aborted the attempt, instead turning his attention toward not falling off and breaking his neck while keeping the snowmobile upright.

He leaned hard to his left, wrenching on the handlebars to try and straighten the vehicle's descent. The snowmobile began to tip as the right runner dug into the snow. He cut the engine and continued throwing his weight to the left. The Motor Ball began to disappear once more into the distance, followed by a small avalanche as his ride slowed to a stop, left side still up in the air. It stopped, and there was a moment when it just stood there, rocking. Then, it rolled over on him. He grunted in pain as its full weight landed on him, driving the air from his lungs. He was saved from having his ribs broken by his own presence of mind. As the vehicle rolled, he used his legs to roll it right over him before it could settle. It slid a few feet down the slope, and then came to rest. As did the Captain.

He lay there in the snow, alternately trying to catch his breath and swearing. He listened to the diminishing revving of the Motor Ball as it sped away.

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Elena awoke some way down the slope from where the guards stopped searching. Her head throbbed as she yanked herself to her feet. She was wet. And cold. And pissed-off. Grumbling, rubbing her head, she brushed the snow from her suit with her bare hands. She immediately wished she hadn't. A chilly breeze caught them before she could stuff them into a sodden pocket and caused them to hurt like hell. She grunted with the pain, tears springing to her eyes.

None of this was supposed to happen. She was a Turk. Turks didn't end up alone on mountainsides, wet and cold. In frustration, she drew her pistol and fired it into the trunk of a nearby tree. Only a sapling, it burst apart, leaving a small splintery stump in its place. When Cloud and his cohorts came down this way to the Great Glacier, as she knew they would, she sincerely hoped someone impaled themself on it.

She shook her head and reached into her coat to pull out her cell phone. Standard-issue, every Turk got one. The Turk who actually needed to use it in an emergency was a shameful one, though. She considered this, and, cursing, put it back. She'd have to do this the hard way.

A scowl painting her face, the rookie Turk began to slowly make her way up the slope toward Icicle Inn.

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Cloud was still far ahead of the Motor Ball. He could hear it behind him, but he didn't turn around to look. It took all of his concentration to keep from falling and breaking his neck. Arms out to the sides, he watched the slope at his feet, and so he didn't even see Elena until he collided with her.

Normally, had he done this, they would have both fallen over, possibly with broken faces, and been run over by the pursuing machine. However, due to Cloud's lack of experience on a snowboard, his balance wasn't very good and he was prone to dipping low to maintain his upright position. It was during one of these dips that he slid into her. His shoulder planted itself in her stomach, eliciting a "whoof!" as the wind was knocked right out of her, and she went limp over his back. Her hip was driven into his face, both obscuring his view and breaking his nose. He managed to maintain his footing, but, with no clear idea of which direction he was heading in - aside from the obvious, down - he was boarding blind.

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Vincent's claw punctured the tough metal of the Motor Ball, and he clenched it tightly as he reached about with his other hand to find a hold. The points on the ends of his boots scored the surface as they created their own leverage. He waited for Cid to land next to him, but when a few moments went by and he didn't he turned to look back, his black hair whipping to and fro across his vision. The snowmobile had overturned, and the Captain was wrestling with it. Then, the man was gone from view, and Vincent turned back to the task which had now fallen to him. Somewhere on top of this behemoth was a panel, beneath which lay the navigational circuit.

He pulled hard with his claw, dragging himself up a little, digging in with his feet. Then, he reached as high as he could with his other arm, and grasped the edge. He pulled himself up onto the flat surface on top, and paused for a moment, looking down at Cloud, far ahead. He was weaving erratically back and forth, trying to hold on to someone who was draped over his shoulder. It appeared to be the female Turk he'd accidentally sent tumbling down the slope earlier. Barely a moment later, they swerved clear across the path, and hit a snowbank on the side. The ramp should have caused them to fall over and stop. Instead, their very speed sent them up and over. Vincent saw the two fly through the air, and disappear from view. Wishing them godspeed, he made his way forward on all fours toward the middle of the machine's roof. Then, he began to tear at the steel panelling with his claw. Pieces of metal tore away as though it was paper, whipped away by the wind and the Motor Ball's jostling on the slippery slope.

Every sheet of metal he tore away revealed a tangle of wires or circuit board. He tore them all out, not knowing just which was supposed to be for the navigational system. Once, as he tore a knot of cords, the flamethrower cut out, and he guessed he'd cut its power. The machine itself, though, remained steadily moving forward. He finally just climbed to the front and punctured the panelling at the corner. Then, he began to slowly pull backwards, leaving deep gouges in the metal. Every now and then his prosthesis would jump and freeze for a moment as he cut through a major power conduit. After a brief pause, when he could move it again, he would continue on. He was only about a foot from the rear edge when something finally happened. The entire bulk of the thing shuddered, nearly knocking him off, and the horizon began to change from a clear view of the Glacier below to the trees whizzing by on the left. Vincent hung on as, to combat this loss of control, the drivers tried to bring the Motor Ball to a halt.

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Barret strained hard to keep a space between them and the Motor Ball. His feet planted against the seat of the snowmobile, he was still pushing against the front of the machine, and he was beginning to tire. A few moments previous, Nanaki beside them had finally passed out, stumbling and rolling far to the right. It looked like the Motor Ball's treads had missed crushing him. He hoped so. Reeve, on the other hand, had adopted an interesting approach to the problem. Both the cat and the cave moogle were clinging to the front of the machine, attempting to climb up top and find the personnel hatch.

Tifa was doing her best to keep the snowmobile from swerving, but, even so, it was difficult for Barret to keep his balance. When the machine shuddered, he lost his hand-holds on the front of it, and fell down between it and the snowmobile at a very high speed. Luckily for him, the Motor Ball began to slow, even as a corner swung toward him. This gave him enough time to hit the ground. His momentum caused him to bounce, and as a pale-faced Tifa tried to slow down and catch him, he hit the snowmobile with his full weight, back-first. Then, he tipped back and slammed into Tifa, causing them both to sail onto the slope, which was now too steep to allow them to just stop. Barret went into a roll, with Tifa instinctively wrapped in his arms. He did his best to create a protective ball around her, shielding her from the snowy ground, even as a loud, plaintive grinding sound came from the pursuing vehicle. They continued to roll downhill and didn't stop until they hit the Glacier.

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Vincent hung on for dear life as the side of the Motor Ball's treads caught in the snow and it tipped up into the air. The tip became a flip, and then he was treated to a spiralling view of trees and snow and sky. He opted to stare at the surface of the vehicle. He was pleased to find that, to his eyes, it remained relatively immobile.

Weight kept shifting, and he was tossed from side to side by the immense speed of the machine's tumble, with only his prosthetic arm keeping him from being thrown off, perchance to break his neck. He closed his eyes and waited for it to be over. He waited and waited. The jolting began to seem endless.

Then, suddenly, it was gone. There was just the sound of rushing air. He opened his eyes, and looked about, using his free arm to shove his fluttering cape out of his vision. There was nothing but sky, all around him. Already knowing what he would see, he turned himself while maintaining his hold with his claw. He looked straight up. Snow. The snowy ground, falling away. Then, even as he watched, it stopped receding, and began to approach once more, at a rapid pace. The Motor Ball had left the ground and become airborne. Now, it was falling again, upside down. He would be crushed if he stayed where he was.

Pushing off with his legs, he let go.

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When Cid finally rose to his feet, shivering and wishing for a smoke, the Motor Ball was gone from sight. He knew it, and his friends, were probably on the Glacier by now. He also knew he couldn't leave them down there. So, with a slight limp, he walked down to where the snowmobile lay on its side.

With a grunt, he lifted it upright. He proceeded to give it a quick look-over to make sure it would run properly. Aside from being covered in snow, he found nothing wrong with it. So he swung his leg over, taking a moment to make himself comfortable. As comfortable as a cigaretteless smoker could be with his ass wet. He pulled his flight goggles down to cover his eyes, and revved the engine. Not hearing anything overly wrong, he let out a loud whoop and set off down the hill.

It was a little anti-climactic, as he stopped only a few metres down from his starting point when something caught his attention over next to the right bank. A strange hump of snow, and it appeared to be shaking a little. He stopped and dismounted carefully. After a moment's hesitation, he drew his spear and stepped toward it, the point aimed in its general direction. Finally, he said, "C'mon out, 'ever y'are."

No answer. The hump of snow just continued to shake.

Cid watched it for another moment then turned his spear and prodded the form with the butt. It moved slightly, but only slightly. Cid finally came to the conclusion that it was some injured SOLDIER. He thought about killing the man and moving on, but knew he couldn't do something like that. After all, even a SOLDIER was human. Cloud was living proof of this. Sighing, he stuck the spear back in its harness, and crouched beside the lump. He began to clear the snow off of it and as the white was removed to reveal reddish-orange fur his breath caught. He brushed the rest away hastily.

There lay Nanaki, looking at him. The feline had more than a dozen different cuts on this side alone and his fur was full of dried blood. The cat was panting heavily. Cid swore. "What the hell'd they &#^@*$ do t'ya!?"

Nanaki only mumbled something incoherent in response.

As gently as he could, Cid slid his arms under the injured cat, and lifted him up. Then, he carefully made his way back to the snowmobile. One of his booted feet slipped once, causing him to nearly go sliding down the slope. He dug his other foot in hard and opted to do the splits. It hurt like hell, and he let anyone within earshot know it.

When he reached the vehicle, he carefully placed Nanaki on the seat at the front, making sure his legs and tail were going to stay on the snowmobile. Then, he sat behind him and reached across to the handlebars. It would be awkward, but there wasn't much else he could do. He'd lost their only Cure materia back in the Forgotten Capital, so he couldn't just heal Nanaki. Shaking his head, he started the engine again, and turned around to head back up the slope.

After about a minute in this direction, he swore loudly and put on the brakes. The snowmobile stopped and slid backward a couple feet before finally coming to rest. Cid realized that he couldn't take Nanaki back to Icicle Inn for medical attention. There were probably Shinra reinforcements on their way, after the ruckus that had been caused. Knowing Rufus, the entire town was liable to be put under watch. It was out of the question.

There was only one choice left open to him, it seemed. Take him down onto the Great Glacier. Maybe one of the others had some kind of healing thing on them. A Potion, or something. They'd have to.

He gunned the engine, and maneuvred them so that they were facing downward again. "C'mon, 'Naki. Cid'll getcha some 'elp!" Then, he set off down the slope at a dangerous speed. For the Captain, of course, this was perfect.

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Well, this was markedly departed from the same point in the game, but I thought this would be a great time for just a tiny bit of character stuff. You know, Barret acting like a dork. Cloud'n Tifa somewhat making up. Some fun with Reeve. That kinda stuff.

Anyway, the next part's probably going to take just as long or longer to get done and uploaded, so, if you're really interested, check back every now and then. Writer's Block's a bitch.

Blah. Contact stuff: Me - veilsixclaw.signmyguestbook.com; deschain5@hotmail.com.

Ree - chaos_vincent21@hotmail.com