*SeaLion Blues* (part 2)
A little AU, FF7 fic for Zack, because he deserves one.
Opening Notes:
-I am taking extreme liberties with the time line, so there. :-P
//…// for thoughts. Standard disclaimers apply.
*********************
Zack woke up on his own, floating to wakefulness with the suddenness of a cork bobbing to the surface. He blinked, not recognizing the ceiling he was staring at. The air, thick with the smell of misery, was also a far cry from the musty comforts of his tent. He propped himself on his elbow, forgetting for a moment that it had been injured. To his pleasant surprise, it only ached distantly rather then any less friendly complaint.
// … Right. Cure Materia… handy stuff to have around… //
Pulling himself together, he sat up and then stood in easy stages. Finally confident he wouldn't suddenly fall over he stretched and tiptoed down the long gallery towards the door. Most of the other occupants of the infirmary seemed to be asleep, and judging by the lack of light, it was either very very late, or rather early. He stuck his head through the office door at the end of the hall, Kip was asleep at his desk, head down amidst his folders. It looked as though he had tried to do a full report and dozed off half way through. Reaching over, he gently shook the man to life.
"Oi. Lieutenant Ferris… are you sleeping on watch?"
"Huh? You?" Scrubbing his face, the sallow officer gave him a look. "… how's your shoulder?"
"Fine, fine. What the hell are you up to here…? Looks like you've pulled every file you own, man." He grinned. "You checking for ant infestation or something?"
"No… no… the general asked for a full listing of all wounded and killed… as soon as possible… so I thought it was best to get started…"
Zack blinked, but the sentence still didn't make sense. "What do you mean 'general'…?"
"You're on your way out, are you? Well watch your step and mind your manners… Midgar finally got off its ass and decided to send down some new leadership."
"No kidding… they sent out a /general/… I mean, sure we're in trouble, but that's a little excessive."
"Well it's not Heidigger, if that's what you're worried about." The doctor reached down behind his desk and produced a half-finished fifth of scotch. "Drink?"
"I just woke up." He waved it away laughing. "And I've got a feeling you should be going to bed."
"In a while… It's only… god… 4 am… plenty of time for sleep…"
"So who'd they send? Someone competent I hope…"
Ferris shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine, but if rumor is to be believed, General Sephiroth is rapidly earning the nickname 'the incorruptible'…"
"… I heard about him… some sort of super-man…" Scratching his chin, he gave up with a smirk. "He'll figure things out I guess."
"He'll want to talk to you first thing in the morning."
"Hell, I'll talk to him now… I'm awake…"
"You also look like you brought half the jungle with you, Zack. Go wash up if you don't feel like sleeping. Just don't go picking fights with the SOLDIERs, they seem a high-strung bunch if you ask me." The man moved to take another swig from the bottle but found it pinned to the desk. "I don't question your eccentricities, trooper… kindly don't question mine."
"Go to sleep, Ferris…" Zack winked, "That's an order."
"Yeah yeah." The older officer shook his head in amusement. "That reminds me. Hollis said to tell you, you owe him big time. I didn't think to ask 'for what' so you'll just have to go ask him yourself."
Pleased at the news that the worry-wart blond had survived, the specialist tossed a brief salute to his friend and left to find a clean shirt. His smile turned wicked as he walked across camp. Why go through the effort of washing one of his own shirts, when Hollis always kept an immaculate spare under his bedding? All he would have to do was get it. After all, what were bunkmates for but to help each other out in times of need.
*********************
The group of specialists was as ragtag-looking as the rest of the camp, standing in a loose clump on the far side of the crowd awaiting morning inspection. Somewhere among them was supposedly the ranking officer on base. Sephiroth decided to make the first move.
The sooner he had the men in line, the sooner he could move to regain control of the area. He had no desire to waste time in meaningless power struggles. None of the three men could claim to be older than twenty-five at his best guess. The general frowned, remembering that the original commander of the troop had fallen with the first burst of rebel activity. One of them, the blond, was the young Mr. Hollis from the evening before. He looked too spooked to be of any use.
It took a moment to remember the name of the second in command. He cleared his throat to get the other's attention. "I assume one of you is Lieutenant Thomson…?"
One of the others, already in his greasepaint looked at him in vague interest as Hollis stuttered a greeting, the third man was the last to respond, preoccupied with his gear.
"That would be me." He had a wildly unruly mop of dark hair. Sephiroth couldn't help but stare at it, silently amused by its antics. It bobbed like the fronds of a palm tree as the officer finished lacing his boot with a vicious twist of the abused ties and stood up to offer a vaguely correct salute. "Lieutenant first-class, Zachary Thomson at your service, sir."
Sephiroth blinked, feeling more than hearing the challenge in the lazy drawl. There was nothing obviously assuming about the darkly tanned soldier. Even standing a few inches taller than his subordinates he was a head shorter than Sephiroth himself. Height was often an advantage with first impressions, having to look up seemed to naturally cow people. The pale officer looked over his unlikely new officer, and almost frowned to see what could only be an amused twinkle in the depths of the dark eyes. He had been expecting anger or fear, even disgust. He had seen it all before. Humor however was something he'd never encountered.
// Laughing at me are we Mr. Thomson…? Enjoy it while you can. //
The combat specialist's laidback attitude was more irritating then it should have been. Even after several minutes under his cool inspection, the man refused to flinch. His lack of reaction was unusual, unpredictable. The general gritted his teeth in frustration, willing the soldier to back down. If anything, it only made the baffling man worse. The spark behind the placid eyes warmed until it was positively wicked. Determined to not get sucked into something as childish as a staring match with the rank-and-file, Sephiroth deliberately looked away, appraising the others before turning back to his inspection.
The battered condition of the lieutenant's uniform and boots were explainable given the conditions the tiny base had been operating under for the past months. He had seen the 'colonel' of the beleaguered camp. Informing him that he had been replaced was only a formality. The man had been too busy swatting at imaginary bugs to offer any complaint about his treatment. It was no wonder that the troops had taken things into their own hands.
The general noted the regulation-issue assault riffle clipped neatly to the holster around the soldier's chest. The five-foot long swath of polished metal strapped to his back was a little more unusual. A weapon of that weight wouldn't have been out of place in the SOLDIER unit, but on a standard trooper it was mammoth.
"Nice sword."
"… thank you sir."
"I didn't think troopers were allowed to have non-standard gear."
"Perks of being a specialist, sir."
The lieutenant's reply was just a little too glib, almost daring him to scold. Sephiroth found himself rising to take the bait. "… Can you actually fight with that over-grown machete, or is it just for show?"
The pale man had the grim pleasure of finally seeing the shorter man flinch. It was unfair to pick on the specialist's gear perhaps, but he needed something to put him in his place, and his obviously absurd weapon was an easy target.
The dark man opened and closed his mouth, obviously biting off a less-than-disciplined reply. Settling for a shrug, he adjusted the straps attaching the gigantic sword to his shoulder. "It gets the job done, sir."
"… And you don't find it slows you down in combat?"
"I don't know. sir, I've never had a fight last that long… sir." Sephiroth raised an eyebrow, acknowledging the fairness of the rebuttal. He could have called the man on professionalism, but the lieutenant's popularity was easy to read in the faces of their silent audience. He sighed, deciding to take what he could get.
"You work quickly, Mr. Thomson."
"I earn my pay."
"That's good to hear. I have already seen, and seen to your former commander. While I can understand your need for independent action over the past months…"
"With all due respect, sir." The general blinked as he was politely cut off.
"We know we're a little rough on discipline and the like… but we're ready to work." The specialist grinned. "And more than ready to get some reinforcements."
"… good." Not knowing how else to respond to the motley crew of survivors, the general crammed his hands in his pockets and sighed. "Morning inspection is irrelevant at this point. If you'll come with me lieutenant, I would like to be briefed on the past few months, and then we will see what we can do to get things back in order."
"Yessir."
The relieved sigh from the loose crowd of troopers was audible as they dispersed for their morning duties.
"… God, where to begin."
Zack remained blessedly silent as he took a moment to look around the collection of soggy looking tents and worn-out looking wooden shacks that summed up the mining outpost. It wasn't much to work with.
He began to regret that he had only brought a handful of SOLDIERs with him. Several of them would be needed for transportation alone. There were far too many injured already from the constant sniping from the jungle. He needed coffee, and for his headache to wait a few hours before kicking in with a vengeance. Somehow he was certain neither wish would be granted. The general made a promise to himself to have the first supply ship available diverted in their direction.
Waving a gloved hand, he caught the young officer's attention. "Come along Mr. Thomson. The sooner we get the injured heading back to Junon, the sooner I'll know what I have to work with."
The darker man blinked in surprise and followed him back to his office.
*********************
There was plenty to keep busy with after that. Everyone able was set to packing up those incapable of packing themselves. To Zack's disbelief, not only did someone respond promptly to the general's demands for a convoy, but the ships arrived on time as well. After a day of hauling bags to the shore of the cove, he could only stare in dubious awe as the planned-for transport arrived. It even had air support, the general's monstrous Gelinka helicopters floating along ahead and then their way overhead and down into the center of camp. It was almost enough to make him believe that Midgar gave a rat's ass about their little outpost.
He signaled Hollis and they headed back to camp. As much as had been done, there were still a few more bales to shift. On the way they passed two SOLDIERs each carrying a pair of oversized truck tires over their shoulders like pool toys. They didn't even have the decency to act like their burdens were heavy; hauling the several-hundred-pound rubber weights as if there were nothing. SOLDIERs, he shook his head in amazement. They really were a breed apart. The second pair of bio-engineered men that they passed on the trail at least were familiar.
He raised a hand to greet Pavan as he stepped out of the man's way. It was strange to remember that he had started at the same time as the massive officer. Everything about the black man seemed to have gotten bigger since he had last seen him. Glowing eyes or not, he was still the stiff bastard he had been during basic training. If anything, the mythical 'SOLDIER conversion process' had only made him more like himself.
// Scary shit… go in a normal joe-schmoe… come out… one bad mother fucker… // He scooped up another set of ruck-sacks and started back towards the beach. // That's if you come out at all… //
It wasn't something he particularly felt like thinking about. He had a few friends, not close ones, and not many, but a few who had applied, been accepted, and never seen again. There were reasons after all why Shinra didn't have all SOLDIERs.
// Pavan came out OK though… didn't go crazy like the rumors said you can… //
He resolved to ask the man about it later. Right now he just had his hands full trying to keep up. Once they were done with the cargo, they'd start on the people. The number of evacuees from the camp was staggering. By the time the last ship left, they'd be down to skeleton staff.
Mentally he began to sort through duty slots and available men, automatically disregarding the new SOLDIERs as they all outranked him anyway. Nominally in charge of the 'original group' for the time being, he didn't kid himself into thinking that it was any reflection on his leadership skills. The others trusted him a hell of a lot more then they did the super-soldiers or some newly-arrived brass. His acting as a go-between was simply convenient for the general, and the man would exploit it until he was no longer necessary. It didn't change the fact that they would soon be short staffed in a number of tedious but essential camp-duties, including cleanup, and in the kitchen. Dumping his load of bags, he turned and trudged back, not even stopping to appreciate the pretty view.
// I don't think there'll be a problem getting Pavan and company to pick up the slack as far as patrols and crap… that's what they're here for a after all… but somehow I don't see the big guy volunteering to dig ditches and wash socks. //
It'd get taken care of. His guys weren't completely useless to have around. They could do a bit of drudgery for a while if it meant someone else was getting shot at for a change. If anything, they'd probably look forward to it. He looked over his shoulder. "Oi. Holly-boy."
"Have I mentioned that I really hate that nickname?"
"Once or twice," he grinned. "You know how to cook?"
"Hell no."
"Hmmmm, know anybody who does?"
"Sure, the doc's not bad… why…?"
"Guess who passengers number 13 through 16 are…"
The blond blinked and groaned. "We're losing all three cooks?"
"They're all non-coms… the general said they had to go."
"He's insane… we'll all be eating cold beans for weeks… unless that helicopter just brought us a new one…"
"If it did, I'm hitting the man over the head with a board and leaving him in the jungle." Zack made a face. "I remember Shinra cooking, even if you don't."
"… Something's better than nothing…"
"I'll take care of it." The dark haired man shrugged philosophically. "I can't do any worse then they do."
"Can you do scrambled eggs?"
"Sure… like little happy fluffy clouds… why?"
"Cook breakfast tomorrow and I'll even volunteer to do the washing up…"
The wild-haired man chortled and slapped him on the back. "Now that my friend, sounds like a plan."
Hollis just rolled his eyes and lead the way on 'lap number thirty-six' of their hauling-things-to shore duty. Zack nodded at the doctor and one of his orderlies as they carried a stretcher in the opposite direction.
He hadn't laid eyes on the general after his debriefing and that had been right after breakfast. Presumably the man was hard at work dealing with the disaster that their previous commander had called his record keeping. For all he knew the pale-haired officer was napping the afternoon away.
There was something strange about the SOLDIER. He just couldn't quite put his finger on it. The general had certainly been more than fair, really after all he'd done he had been expecting a serious dressing-down. What he had gotten was a mild scolding in comparison to some of his previous rules-bending. Zack wasn't sure whether it was because it he wasn't worth the austere man's time, or that the SOLDIER just didn't care one-way -or-another what he did, so long as he didn't get in the way. He'd have to ask Pavan about that too, when he got the chance. The day stretched on however, hauling, and more hauling, and just when his back felt it would give out, more hauling still. Nobody was surprised to be eating cold beans for dinner. Half of them were too tired to bother eating at all. Kicking off his boots and falling into bed, Zack remembered to fiddle with his alarm clock cranking it an hour earlier even as his brain rebelled at the lost sleep. Being cook meant first dibs on the brand-spanking-new cases of coffee and other tasty vittles waiting patiently in the kitchen. If that wasn't worth getting up for, nothing was.
*****
"Some eggs, general?" The dark-haired man grinning at him from behind the serving counter was all too familiar.
Apparently with the evacuation of most of the support personnel, everyone was filling in the duty-gaps where they could. Sephiroth hadn't bothered to think about it in the flurry of activity the day before. He had simply assumed, and assumed correctly, that his officers would handle the details of duty assignments without bothering him about it. It was irony therefore that the one person that he didn't feel precisely up to dealing with in the morning, was the man now trying to serve him breakfast. A most of day to himself hadn't made dealing with the camp's resident 'big brother' any easier. If anything a night's rest and fresh provisions had made the man even more exuberant. Thomson looked completely comfortable and carefree in the cook's apron, would probably look just as relaxed and at home in a chicken-suit. The general frowned, able to visualize the costume all too well.
"What are you doing, lieutenant?"
"Serving breakfast, sir. There's cream for your coffee down along the end with the silverware…"
Following the tilt of the shorter man's head he was distracted and forgot to refuse the full tray being pushed into his hands. He blinked and looked down. There was in addition to the coffee, several slices of toast, bacon, and a generous mound of scrambled eggs. The whole plate was done up to resemble some sort of demented smiley-face.
// What the hell? //
It all would have looked edible enough if he had had any plans of eating. The small mess-hall was full of the usual morning chatter, but the table nearest the counter had grown subdued. His team from Midgar was the most familiar with his likes, dislikes, and traditional breakfast habits. If he turned, there would be no question that they'd be watching him, waiting to see what he would do.
// Waiting for me to dish out some new and novel punishment for this damnably over-cheerful Section-Eight-Discharge-to-be… //
"I drink my coffee black, Mr. Thomson." Looking at his 'chef,' there was no mistaking something devilish in the dark-brown eyes. The young trooper had somehow gone from being an annoyance to being an adversary over night. It was impossible, but he couldn't deny it. The man simply would not back down and behave in an appropriately cowed manner.
"I'm sorry to hear that…" The expressive eyes blinked once in perfectly pretended innocence before the man remembered his place. "... sir."
For a moment Sephiroth wondered if the man would challenge him after all, but a clatter distracted the mop-headed officer and he turned away with a comical expression. Some emergency was apparently in progress with the griddle. Left alone, the general stalked to an empty corner of the room, claiming it as his own. He sat down and swore to himself. He had forgotten to leave the tray behind. The little smiley-bacon-lips seemed to be laughing, at him.
// … He's… making fun of me? How… bizarre. //
The behavior would have been more offensive if it wasn't so utterly unexpected. Refusing to bring any further attention to his defeat, he tried a piece of toast. It tasted like it was supposed to. If he had had any appetite he might have seriously considered just eating the damn meal. Luckily for his pride, his stomach flatly refused the idea of that much intake before noon. He sipped his coffee and ignored the occasional laughter and clattering pots from the kitchen.
// He's…. just not normal. No one is that happy all the time… //
The general found something about the trooper to be frustrating, but he still couldn't tell exactly what it was. That too was frustrating and the cycle seemed more than happy to feed on itself until he either learned what made Mr. Thomson tick, or went mad from trying. The man's motivations were a mystery.
// "I'm not afraid of you"… that's what he said when he was debriefed. Other people have boasted of that, and they were lying. Or even if it was true they still showed… respect? Politeness? //
The white-haired man frowned into his coffee. He couldn't really fault the lieutenant on either point. Even with his alarmingly laid-back attitude towards the army, he wasn't directly disrespectful or impolite. If anything he seemed 'nicer' than most of the general's first encounters with new subordinates. Usually some chafing and pride were to be expected from a man in his position.
// After all, I did sort of show up out of nowhere just as he was taking charge… you think he'd be bitter about that. A chance for command taken away just as it was in his grasp? //
Admitting that the specialist didn't seem to care however, opened up very few possible explanations. Either the man was simply mentally damaged, high on drugs, or was actually presenting a truthful front. Maybe Zack was just… Zack? He shook his head to dismiss the idea.
// While people say the specialists are a little crazy… it's seldom the truth. The ones without a firm grip on reality are usually the first to get weeded out by the training process… Short of the SOLDIER program, theirs would probably be the strictest entrance requirements. //
He sighed.
// Which means, even if I was willing to assume it, Mr. Thomson is nobody's moron; a handful perhaps – judging by his profile -- but not stupid. So what does that leave, drugs? //
The general put his mug down before he shattered it by accident in his fist. The dangers of an officer being mentally affected by 'sampling' local produce had never been more clearly demonstrated then it had been here in Kobani. Colonel Clark was probably most of the way home to Midgar by now. Carefully bundled in his straight-jacked and under the watchful guard of two SOLDIERs, he would be very well taken care of until Sephiroth had the chance to return home and court marshal the man properly.
// Willful negligence, murder of a subordinate, irresponsible waste of personnel, deliberately violating articles of a treaty… withholding vital provisions… if he wasn't a paranoid schizophrenic even without the drugs… I'd have killed him on the spot. Bastard… how can one man do so much damage… Heidigger… I will have your spleen for letting this get so out of hand. //
*********************
With the evacuations complete, the settlement had a rather ghostly feel. There was none of the daily hustle-and-bustle that made the ram-shackle tents and buildings more home-like. Most of the half-plywood-half-canvas buildings standing between the sheltering cliffs and the beach were empty, stripped of anything of use after their occupants had been sent to safety. Zack took advantage of the uncluttered route, whistling a vaguely recognizable rendition of 'Wild Night in Midgar' as he dried his hands on a dish towel and headed to the small parade ground. The wobbly tune caused his two companions to snigger. The taller SOLDIER shook his head in disbelief.
"You haven't changed at all, have you Thomson… Damn, when you pulled that stunt in the mess… I thought for sure your ass was going to be tossed into the bay."
"Who me? Change? As if…" The dark-haired trooper laughed, ignoring the rest of the jibe. ".. but tell me, Pavan, does your pee actually glow in the dark now, or what?"
The large black man had the grace to laugh at the blunt question. "Not yet, although sometimes I wonder…" He rolled his shoulders and settled his padded jacked around him as they walked from the mess tent to the assembly grounds. "Seriously, Zack. How've you been, man…? I expected you'd have been promoted above lieutenant by now…"
"Well… shit happens, you know? It's hard to be promoted when my immediate superior takes one to the lung and goes down a month after I get here… and his superior was certifiable…"
"Maybe I can put in a word for you when we get back."
"Oh don't strain yourself on my account, Captain Jain, Sir… You know I'd just love to be your subordinate for ever and ever and…"
"Still got that wise-ass mouth…"
"Always. It's part of my charm." Zack greeted his few remaining teammates and nodded respectfully at the SOLDIERs that he didn't know. The general was nowhere to be seen and the men stood waiting for orders now that breakfast was dispensed with. He sighed in annoyance.
"…Of course we wait… grandstanding is a crucial part of every brass' day."
"Dude, I'd shut up if I were you." Pavan and his quieter friend were looking at him as if he was insane. "I've served under Sephiroth for over a year now, and if there is one thing you learn early is that he has no sense of humor."
"He's the king of hard-asses." His crew-cut companion agreed. They could have been cousins they looked so alike, on a slightly scrawnier version of the other. Zack blinked, wondering if they were related. Stranger things had been known to happen.
"He's a machine. But he knows his shit." Both of the bio-engineered men nodded grimly.
"Yeah yeah… I know. He's been pretty cool so far."
"I mean it Zack… I'd love to see more of you, you're a funny guy. But seeing more of you because you've got latrine-cleaning duties for the rest of your life isn't what I'd call 'something to hope for.'"
"Hey now… I'd make sure they were the cleanest, freshest thing you'd ever see."
"Don't even joke about that." Pavan shook his head in disbelief again before looking over the specialists in a professional manner. "Best prepare for inspection… Your hair looks like a haystack, Thomson."
"Thanks, captain." He winced as his old friend gave him a good-natured noogie. Any hope his hair would lay remotely flat was officially gone. "Way to lend a hand."
"When will you get serious and stop being the class clown?" The dark skinned man sighed. "You're better than this shitty outfit, even before it got decimated…"
"I sorta liked it here before the crap hit the fan… scenic, you know? Besides, my uncle always told me a man was nothing without a sense of humor."
The older man shrugged, conceding defeat. "Well… you do have a way of keeping things lively… even if the general is likely to name his first ulcer after y-" His jaw snapped shut on the last word, his commander had arrived.
"Attention!"
Sighing over lost opportunities, they all straightened their backs and prepared to receive orders. Sephiroth did not disappoint.
"Gentlemen…" There was something rather charming about the way Sephiroth could snap out the word. It sounded important when he said it, both official and yet respectful.
// I bet he could say 'booty call' and have it sound like meaningful prose… someone should get him to read the news on the radio… //
The idea of the stiff-necked general doing anything of the sort was almost enough to send him into a fit of laughter. Biting his tongue, he forced his face to remain blank until the critical stare had swept past his corner of the parade grounds.
// Damn but something about him brings out the absolute worst in me… that 'classic bully' attitude that begs to be pulled down a peg… //
The pale man was on the move, stepping past the groups of men as Pavan and his other ranking officers moved to join him in an unofficial conference.
Zack watched the trailing ends of the long hair as it floated by and dearly wished he dared to reach out and yank it. It was an unusual eccentricity for such a high ranking officer, certainly it succeeded in making him stand out in a crowd. Between that and the meticulously finished black leather gear, the man looked like something out of a sci-fi movie more than a career officer. Hair like that had to make the women back home scream with jealously. An exotic looking young general in leather pants, he had to be the hottest shit around Midgar. Even before he had been shipped off to 'learn his lesson' the lowly lieutenant Thomson had heard some of the stories. They only made him want to tug the off-limits locks even more.
// Just a little… just as a joke…// There was no joking about the certainty of being split down the middle by the general's favorite sword. As tall as the man was, taller, it was an improbable and impressive sight. The tip nearly touched the ground behind the general's left heel and its hilt rose easily a foot above his right shoulder. It was a big sword, but as far as the trooper could tell, it wasn't very practical.
// Too long for any sort of efficient close fighting… but still not a projectile weapon, so no good for long-range shit… It'd be like fighting with a boat-oar except you can't go grabbing it by the middle to do any nifty two-handed moves… even if it's only one-sided… it'd be awkward as hell. The minute someone gets inside his swing radius… he's screwed. //
The specialist frowned, realizing that in all likelihood no one had ever survived against the man long enough for that particular problem to become apparent. So far the general had been very successful at keeping the world at bay. Oddly, it drove him to wonder if he could be the first; not that he wanted to lose his head to find out.
// Thinks he's too good to play with us mere mortals I bet. But then again… it may not be ego? //
Two days of contact with the tall officer had taught him that Sephiroth had pride a plenty, and a cool distant nature, but thus far there had been none of the prissiness that he had been expecting. The pale man was really nothing like any of the other commanders Zack had encountered. He didn't play favorites. He didn't hold grudges. He neither asked for nor received any remarkable special treatment from his men. The only thing the dark-haired man could fault his new commander for was his solitary nature, and that wasn't a flaw in his military ability, just a personal quirk. Watching as the general spoke with his men, the specialist noted that the shadows under the burning green eyes looked darker than the day before. It might have just been the angle of the sun.
// Then again… half his problem could just be that he never sleeps…? //
Sephiroth was now addressing some of the other survivors. The lieutenant fought to keep his mind on business. It sounded like they were discussing another sortie into the jungle. Zack sighed at the thought. There was no way they could compete on even footing with the locals without a large aerial support team to scout ahead for them. Even with the influx of SOLDIERs and Materia, it was unlikely that the general understood just how good the locals were.
Looking at the leafy green wall that started a few yards beyond the rough barricade only reminded him of home. It wasn't homesickness, not exactly. Homesickness implied a person wanted to return to somewhere. Zack had decided long ago that Gongaga just hadn't been a place big enough to hold him. Instead of nostalgia, the lush greenery provided him with a complex tangle of regret and guilt. Back home his father would probably never forgive him for running off and joining the army, and here he had buried too many friends in the past month to want to bury anymore. Thinking of his father never did anything for his mood and he pushed the thought away.
"Mr. Thomson…?" With a sickening lurch, the dark man realized he was the center of attention with no idea what he had just been asked.
"Yes sir." The reply was perhaps too energetic, but at least it was more regulation than the 'huh?' that had almost slipped out. He blessed the brainless drilling of his boot camp days for its convenient brainwashing.
// Always a good answer, even when you don't know the question. //
Pavan took pity enough on him to repeat the question. "Of the specialists still here, you're the one with the most bush experience, right?"
"Yes sir." This time he could answer with confidence. Hollis was a city boy, born-and-bred, James was from Kalm, Penner had a compound fracture that had gone too long for a 'cure' alone to fix and had to be sent home.
"You know the rough layout of the region?"
"Yessir?"
"Good." The SOLDIER turned to his general. "This is your man sir. Probably the best there was even when the station was fully manned, outside of a local."
The pale commander looked unconvinced, but addressed him directly just the same. "I wish to see this 'enemy' of ours for myself. It seems any information I was given about this situation was suspect at best. You can guide me through the territory?"
"Yes sir." Zack blinked, digesting the full nature of the request.
// I've just volunteered to go on a solo-mission with this guy? Awe crap-in-a-basket. //
Once again, the conversation moved on without any regard for his attentiveness. Sephiroth assigned his more seasoned subordinates the duties of pulling the camp together into something defensible. Ships with more supplies would be arriving soon but in the meantime the SOLDIERs would have their hands full. The dark-haired man listened and idly wished he could stay behind as an assistant to Pavan or Rick or any of the others. There would have been definite laughs to be had with them in charge of the settlement. However he quietly stood his ground as the rest of the troops split off to go perform their duties. The general was staring at him again, his expression vaguely annoyed.
// Probably still soused about breakfast… You'd think I poisoned it for all he ate. //
"How far out are they?"
"There's a village, well, at least there was a village not that far from here. About a day's walk under good conditions, maybe longer if we dodge bullets?"
"Pack what you think is appropriate for us, trooper and report to my tent in an hour."
"Yessir."
// A man cannot live on coffee alone… I wonder if he expects me to pack for him as well… better to be safe than sorry. //
He paid more attention to his salute than usual, keeping the movement crisp and impersonal before moving to throw whatever he could find into one of the waterproof carry-alls.
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-Lunar