Author's Note:
I would have posted yesterday, but much time was spent perusing shelves of anime, and then settling down once more to watch X/1999 (the series, not the lame ass 1996 movie). That, and I needed a break for a day to collect my thoughts and think things through a bit first. And wait on responses from e-mails. Of which I got one! You people should be ashamed of yourself, really. : P
Anyway, I don't own Final Fantasy, but I do hire out the Turks to kill my enemies every once in a while.
Chapter Twenty Three
Sifting Through the Rubble
Cloud heaved one last time on the former support beam and finally uprooted it from the ground, sending it slamming aside into a pile of useless debris. He wiped the sweat away from his brow. He really was exhausted. Being infused with Mako and Jenova cells had given him more strength than the average man, probably making him a little more than twice as strong, actually, but the work he was being put through...
It wasn't that Cid held a grudge. Oh no. He had insane expectations of everyone when it came to the salvage job they were currently making. Apparently the old pilot had even thought of a harness device for Red XIII so that Cosmo Canyon's guardian would be able to help pull away the wreckage alongside the humans, but the feline had begged off, citing that with Barret and Cloud being so busy, someone had to watch over the small police force. Not that it needed any watching. After a month of nothing but routine patrols, the use for the police force was becoming less and less. The mere existance of it seemed to keep crime at bay among the now recovering refugees of Midgar.
Once again Cloud found himself looking for Rude. The Turk was still in Kalm, but no one was sure why. For some reason he seemed to want to help Avalanche, but didn't want to discuss his motives with anyone.
And worse yet, he had been spending a lot of time with Tifa the past month. Cloud had been there eavesdropping when Rude had once admitted that he liked Tifa to Reno so long ago. But they couldn't be... no, Tifa had better taste than that. Rude was a killer, a hired assassin.
He found Rude only a few dozen feet away from his position, coat and shirt taken off. His sunglasses were still on, and he refused to remove them. When Barret had commented on that eccentricity of his, Red XIII and Tifa had both just shrugged and said that it was his own little quirk to have.
Rude lifted a steel girder and casually tossed it aside. Cloud took note of that. He had always known Rude was strong, but not that strong. The Turk saw Cloud and nodded to him, almost respectfully, then turned and went back to his work.
Cloud was thinking of going over to the Turk and directly asking him why he was still with them when a yell from Cid made him jump.
"The hell you doin', slacker?!"
Cloud turned around to see the old pilot in his wheel chair, Shera hovering behind him. The first wheelchair they had gotten Cid had not met with his approval, being a mechanical one that required someone to wheel him from place to place. After requesting some parts from a local store, Cid had scrapped together a new wheelchair that ran on a motor, fueled by a Lightning Materia orb, installed into the arm of the chair.
"Uh, nothing..." Cloud answered, and winced, knowing the wording was a poor choice.
"Obviously! Now get back to work! Rude's way ahead of you! Not gonna get beat by a Turk, are ya?"
Cloud felt his back straighten and his fists clench. He immediately turned around and started looking for a piece of metal to throw.
"That's the spirit! You two should hit the engine in no time at all! I give you a couple hours, and I'll be able to get my hands on that stuff in no time. Just one problem, numbskull."
Cloud turned around, and had to be careful of his tone. "What?"
"You're working in the wrong spot. Rude's got it right. Just go beside him."
The Soldier washout narrowed his eyes, and walked purposefully towards the Turk. He would not be angry. He had no reason to be angry. It's not as if Rude was the Turk who had dropped the plate on Sector Seven. He had just killed Mayor Domo is all. Not that the old mayor hadn't been corrupt, and been involved in a number of schemes that had hurt people, and probably deserved his fate...
Cloud found that he really didn't care that Rude had killed Domo. But something about the Turk bothered him.
The two worked well together, despite Cloud's disproval. At one point, while Rude was pulling a particularly stubborn shard of metal out, the entire pile began to shift. Before Cloud was entirely sure what he was doing, he shoved Rude out of the way and jumped away just in time before the rubble fell and crushed them both.
"Thanks," was all Rude said, and Cloud didn't respond. They went back to work.
After a few hours, Tifa dropped in on them. Instead of hovering near Cloud, as she always used to, she instinctively went to Rude, but somehow managed to throw embarrassed looks Cloud's way as well.
"How're you two doing on this side?" she asked.
"Pretty good," Cloud said. "We're almost to the engine room. It's too bad this all collapsed after me and Red got out. Would have been easier if it hadn't."
"Just be grateful it didn't collapse while you were still in there."
He nodded, and continued working.
"Shouldn't you be working on your end to get to the bridge?"
"Barret siad he has it covered. They don't need me."
"I'll tell that to Cid, then."
"If Cid finds me here not working, he'll kill me!"
Cloud laughed, knowing exactly how she felt.
She continued chatting with him and Rude, about almost nothing in particular. From Cloud she received lengthy answers that almost turned into conversations, nearly pulled the Soldier washout from his work. From Rude, she only received one words answers and grunts, but for some reason she seemed just as satisfied. During the whole course of events, Cloud found that his irritations and dislike of Rude increased.
Rude finally stopped his work and then knocked on a large piece of metal that was blocking their path. He placed his ear against it, knocked again, then said, "Last one."
"That one's too heavy to lift out," Cloud said. "We might have to blast it out with Materia."
"Cid'll kill you if you damage the engine," Tifa remarked.
"I have an idea," Rude said, motioning Cloud away from the wreckage.
The leader of Avalanche backed away, and began to examine the last wall in their way. It appeared sound, not really supporting what was left of the roof. If they could somehow move it...
Rude was standing directly in front of the wall, appearing to be concentrating.
"What's he doing?" Cloud asked.
"Ssh," whispered Tifa. "It's a form of martial art. He's channeling his spirit."
"He's what?"
"Ssh!"
Rude's stood completely still, not moving at all, but sweat began pouring off his body in waves. He almost seemed to quiver with effort. And then like a spring, he uncoiled. His fist lashed out at the side of the wall, crunching the piece of metal inwards. A small gap opened up from where the metal bent, but not wide enough for someone to fit through. Without even pausing, Rude brought his fist back again and struck, again and again, hammering away with his fist. Blood began to come off from his knuckles, but slowly the metal gave way until the entrace was wide enough for a person.
"You're hurt," Tifa said, walking towards the Turk.
Rude shrugged, apparently unconcerned. She former bartender held up her gloved hand and look at a small, green orb that decorated it. A grief flash of light appeared, starting from the Materia orb and then nestling on the wound on Rude's hand, sealing it shut.
Cloud gritted his teeth.
He was jealous. The thought came to him, almost a taunt. All his life Tifa had been there. When he was younger, he had wanted her, almost needed her. And then after Soldier, he was almost ashamed to be near her, being such a failure. She only reminded him of what he wasn't. And then Aeris had come along, and...
He didn't have Tifa, didn't deserve her, but somewhere, he realized sickeningly, he felt that he owned her. It disgusted him. He had probably had his chance, and thrown it away. They were just friends now, and he had to accept that.
"I knew it!" came Cid's voice.
Tifa jumped, and stepped away from both Rude and Cloud, trying to make herself not quite so obvious.
"Nice work, you two. Guess you ain't such a pair of pinheads when it comes to manual labour." The chair wheeled over to them, a soft hum coming from it. He looked over the hole and frowned. "Shit, I can't get in that. Not with this thing," he said, indicating the wheelchair.
Without another word Rude bent over and picked the pilot up. Cid let out an annoyed grunt, but allowed the Turk to carry him through the hole and to the engine.
Cloud followed after. The room was dark, but it was just the way Cloud remembered it. Memories of Yuffie holding her stomach and nearly throwing up the first few times they had taken flight came to him and he frowned. The ninja had left them a few weeks ago without any warning at all, not even an explanation or a note explaining why. None of them had been surprised. Complaints of boredom had made the group expect her departure.
Cloud looked over to the corner and saw the gutted and fused Cait Sith doll. Reeve still hadn't gotten in touch with them, and rumors of Shinra's revival in Junon had made the group wary of what their old friend might be up to.
"Over there! I wanna see that doll!" Cid exclaimed. "Never did get to see the insides of that before. Bet it's got top-of-the-line Shinra doo-hickeys and toys in it."
Rude carried Cid over, who quickly looked over the badly damaged robot.
"Hmm... most of it's fried, but I might be able to keep some of it. Cloud... no, you're too clumsy. Tifa! I see you hidin' back there, slacker! Make yourself useful and grab some of this! Anything that doesn't look fried, don't care what it is."
Tifa ducked into the engine room and made her way over to the old Cait Sith doll.
"Take me to the engine, Rude. I wanna see what I've got left to work with."
After Rude had brought him to it, Cid started look over it and muttered swear words under his breath. The only words Cloud heard aloud were "You poor baby."
"Awright," Cid said, "I think this can be salvaged. It's in shit condition, and that blasted cat screwed it all up with his patch job wiring, but I can fix it. Maybe even build a new airship. Shit, I already got my ol' engineers, if you can call 'em that, working on the shell of a new airship. Soon as we get the materials, it'll be done, and we've got 'em all right here. I give my boys maybe a week, then I'll be in the skies again."
Cloud smiled. It almost felt like the old Avalanche days. Soon, Highwind II would be finished, and then the search for Obsidian could begin.
Author's Note:
There. Stupid icq not working. My editor should be back from wherever he buggered off to, but now my godamn icq won't work so I can't get the chapters to him! Bah! ... oh well. Guess you guys'll have to take this in its unedited format.
I would have posted yesterday, but much time was spent perusing shelves of anime, and then settling down once more to watch X/1999 (the series, not the lame ass 1996 movie). That, and I needed a break for a day to collect my thoughts and think things through a bit first. And wait on responses from e-mails. Of which I got one! You people should be ashamed of yourself, really. : P
Anyway, I don't own Final Fantasy, but I do hire out the Turks to kill my enemies every once in a while.
Chapter Twenty Three
Sifting Through the Rubble
Cloud heaved one last time on the former support beam and finally uprooted it from the ground, sending it slamming aside into a pile of useless debris. He wiped the sweat away from his brow. He really was exhausted. Being infused with Mako and Jenova cells had given him more strength than the average man, probably making him a little more than twice as strong, actually, but the work he was being put through...
It wasn't that Cid held a grudge. Oh no. He had insane expectations of everyone when it came to the salvage job they were currently making. Apparently the old pilot had even thought of a harness device for Red XIII so that Cosmo Canyon's guardian would be able to help pull away the wreckage alongside the humans, but the feline had begged off, citing that with Barret and Cloud being so busy, someone had to watch over the small police force. Not that it needed any watching. After a month of nothing but routine patrols, the use for the police force was becoming less and less. The mere existance of it seemed to keep crime at bay among the now recovering refugees of Midgar.
Once again Cloud found himself looking for Rude. The Turk was still in Kalm, but no one was sure why. For some reason he seemed to want to help Avalanche, but didn't want to discuss his motives with anyone.
And worse yet, he had been spending a lot of time with Tifa the past month. Cloud had been there eavesdropping when Rude had once admitted that he liked Tifa to Reno so long ago. But they couldn't be... no, Tifa had better taste than that. Rude was a killer, a hired assassin.
He found Rude only a few dozen feet away from his position, coat and shirt taken off. His sunglasses were still on, and he refused to remove them. When Barret had commented on that eccentricity of his, Red XIII and Tifa had both just shrugged and said that it was his own little quirk to have.
Rude lifted a steel girder and casually tossed it aside. Cloud took note of that. He had always known Rude was strong, but not that strong. The Turk saw Cloud and nodded to him, almost respectfully, then turned and went back to his work.
Cloud was thinking of going over to the Turk and directly asking him why he was still with them when a yell from Cid made him jump.
"The hell you doin', slacker?!"
Cloud turned around to see the old pilot in his wheel chair, Shera hovering behind him. The first wheelchair they had gotten Cid had not met with his approval, being a mechanical one that required someone to wheel him from place to place. After requesting some parts from a local store, Cid had scrapped together a new wheelchair that ran on a motor, fueled by a Lightning Materia orb, installed into the arm of the chair.
"Uh, nothing..." Cloud answered, and winced, knowing the wording was a poor choice.
"Obviously! Now get back to work! Rude's way ahead of you! Not gonna get beat by a Turk, are ya?"
Cloud felt his back straighten and his fists clench. He immediately turned around and started looking for a piece of metal to throw.
"That's the spirit! You two should hit the engine in no time at all! I give you a couple hours, and I'll be able to get my hands on that stuff in no time. Just one problem, numbskull."
Cloud turned around, and had to be careful of his tone. "What?"
"You're working in the wrong spot. Rude's got it right. Just go beside him."
The Soldier washout narrowed his eyes, and walked purposefully towards the Turk. He would not be angry. He had no reason to be angry. It's not as if Rude was the Turk who had dropped the plate on Sector Seven. He had just killed Mayor Domo is all. Not that the old mayor hadn't been corrupt, and been involved in a number of schemes that had hurt people, and probably deserved his fate...
Cloud found that he really didn't care that Rude had killed Domo. But something about the Turk bothered him.
The two worked well together, despite Cloud's disproval. At one point, while Rude was pulling a particularly stubborn shard of metal out, the entire pile began to shift. Before Cloud was entirely sure what he was doing, he shoved Rude out of the way and jumped away just in time before the rubble fell and crushed them both.
"Thanks," was all Rude said, and Cloud didn't respond. They went back to work.
After a few hours, Tifa dropped in on them. Instead of hovering near Cloud, as she always used to, she instinctively went to Rude, but somehow managed to throw embarrassed looks Cloud's way as well.
"How're you two doing on this side?" she asked.
"Pretty good," Cloud said. "We're almost to the engine room. It's too bad this all collapsed after me and Red got out. Would have been easier if it hadn't."
"Just be grateful it didn't collapse while you were still in there."
He nodded, and continued working.
"Shouldn't you be working on your end to get to the bridge?"
"Barret siad he has it covered. They don't need me."
"I'll tell that to Cid, then."
"If Cid finds me here not working, he'll kill me!"
Cloud laughed, knowing exactly how she felt.
She continued chatting with him and Rude, about almost nothing in particular. From Cloud she received lengthy answers that almost turned into conversations, nearly pulled the Soldier washout from his work. From Rude, she only received one words answers and grunts, but for some reason she seemed just as satisfied. During the whole course of events, Cloud found that his irritations and dislike of Rude increased.
Rude finally stopped his work and then knocked on a large piece of metal that was blocking their path. He placed his ear against it, knocked again, then said, "Last one."
"That one's too heavy to lift out," Cloud said. "We might have to blast it out with Materia."
"Cid'll kill you if you damage the engine," Tifa remarked.
"I have an idea," Rude said, motioning Cloud away from the wreckage.
The leader of Avalanche backed away, and began to examine the last wall in their way. It appeared sound, not really supporting what was left of the roof. If they could somehow move it...
Rude was standing directly in front of the wall, appearing to be concentrating.
"What's he doing?" Cloud asked.
"Ssh," whispered Tifa. "It's a form of martial art. He's channeling his spirit."
"He's what?"
"Ssh!"
Rude's stood completely still, not moving at all, but sweat began pouring off his body in waves. He almost seemed to quiver with effort. And then like a spring, he uncoiled. His fist lashed out at the side of the wall, crunching the piece of metal inwards. A small gap opened up from where the metal bent, but not wide enough for someone to fit through. Without even pausing, Rude brought his fist back again and struck, again and again, hammering away with his fist. Blood began to come off from his knuckles, but slowly the metal gave way until the entrace was wide enough for a person.
"You're hurt," Tifa said, walking towards the Turk.
Rude shrugged, apparently unconcerned. She former bartender held up her gloved hand and look at a small, green orb that decorated it. A grief flash of light appeared, starting from the Materia orb and then nestling on the wound on Rude's hand, sealing it shut.
Cloud gritted his teeth.
He was jealous. The thought came to him, almost a taunt. All his life Tifa had been there. When he was younger, he had wanted her, almost needed her. And then after Soldier, he was almost ashamed to be near her, being such a failure. She only reminded him of what he wasn't. And then Aeris had come along, and...
He didn't have Tifa, didn't deserve her, but somewhere, he realized sickeningly, he felt that he owned her. It disgusted him. He had probably had his chance, and thrown it away. They were just friends now, and he had to accept that.
"I knew it!" came Cid's voice.
Tifa jumped, and stepped away from both Rude and Cloud, trying to make herself not quite so obvious.
"Nice work, you two. Guess you ain't such a pair of pinheads when it comes to manual labour." The chair wheeled over to them, a soft hum coming from it. He looked over the hole and frowned. "Shit, I can't get in that. Not with this thing," he said, indicating the wheelchair.
Without another word Rude bent over and picked the pilot up. Cid let out an annoyed grunt, but allowed the Turk to carry him through the hole and to the engine.
Cloud followed after. The room was dark, but it was just the way Cloud remembered it. Memories of Yuffie holding her stomach and nearly throwing up the first few times they had taken flight came to him and he frowned. The ninja had left them a few weeks ago without any warning at all, not even an explanation or a note explaining why. None of them had been surprised. Complaints of boredom had made the group expect her departure.
Cloud looked over to the corner and saw the gutted and fused Cait Sith doll. Reeve still hadn't gotten in touch with them, and rumors of Shinra's revival in Junon had made the group wary of what their old friend might be up to.
"Over there! I wanna see that doll!" Cid exclaimed. "Never did get to see the insides of that before. Bet it's got top-of-the-line Shinra doo-hickeys and toys in it."
Rude carried Cid over, who quickly looked over the badly damaged robot.
"Hmm... most of it's fried, but I might be able to keep some of it. Cloud... no, you're too clumsy. Tifa! I see you hidin' back there, slacker! Make yourself useful and grab some of this! Anything that doesn't look fried, don't care what it is."
Tifa ducked into the engine room and made her way over to the old Cait Sith doll.
"Take me to the engine, Rude. I wanna see what I've got left to work with."
After Rude had brought him to it, Cid started look over it and muttered swear words under his breath. The only words Cloud heard aloud were "You poor baby."
"Awright," Cid said, "I think this can be salvaged. It's in shit condition, and that blasted cat screwed it all up with his patch job wiring, but I can fix it. Maybe even build a new airship. Shit, I already got my ol' engineers, if you can call 'em that, working on the shell of a new airship. Soon as we get the materials, it'll be done, and we've got 'em all right here. I give my boys maybe a week, then I'll be in the skies again."
Cloud smiled. It almost felt like the old Avalanche days. Soon, Highwind II would be finished, and then the search for Obsidian could begin.
Author's Note:
There. Stupid icq not working. My editor should be back from wherever he buggered off to, but now my godamn icq won't work so I can't get the chapters to him! Bah! ... oh well. Guess you guys'll have to take this in its unedited format.