Much aboot that; A planned meeting;
Theories: the practice of running in circles;
Icebreaker
Click, click. Reeve stared at his computer screen without seeing it, absent-mindedly clicking a pen. Click, cli- It stuck, nib half-retracted. He stared down at it, pressing the end with his thumb. Perhaps it had jammed. He set it aside and stood to gaze out his windows. Lights flashed steadily on the nearest mako reactor. The flickering colors aggravated his tension headache, and he put a hand to his temple and turned away. So much had happened in the last few weeks, everyone in the building was stressed.
He glanced at his door. At least two infantrymen were on guard on the other side. After the latest attacks - the deaths of Scarlet and Dr. Hollander, the assault on Heidegger that left the general comatose - Shinra assigned bodyguards to all its top officials.
Nevertheless, even as a board member, the guards assigned to him were only troopers. Prominent members of other departments had SOLDIERs. The president had assigned himself a whole unit. Apparently, there were no elites left available to guard him, what with the Wutai war, terrorist activity, and the recent transportation issues. Not that he minded, he told himself. SOLDIERs would likely overhear his conversations with Cait Sith.
His department had suffered no losses. The opposite, in fact. A great windfall of advanced technology had been dumped in their laps. No one yet had questioned his unauthorized projects or additional spending. The department's good luck made him paranoid. He was nervous of the other shoe suspended overhead.
He glanced outside again. The smog was light that day, and the scraps of sky visible above the buildings were a brilliant blue. He wanted to go out walking, stretch his legs and his lungs, but he was unsure he'd be allowed to.
Two days ago, he'd tried taking a trip outside the city to visit the production factory producing the first models of his new solar panels. The Turks had stopped his car as it left the company garage. They said that leaving the city would put him at a higher risk, and asked that he stay put at Headquarters.
Their concern was reasonable, so he agreed. Scarlet and Hollander had only been out of Midgar for short whiles before their untimely deaths. His gaze drifted to Cait Sith, curled up in an office chair, apparently 'asleep'. He'd surprised the robotic cat by returning so quickly that day. After hearing his reason, Cait insisted that it wasn't an issue, and that Reeve would be fine.
The cat hinted at a great many things, but avoided straight answers. It evaded questions with, "It's wee bit complicated." It wiggled away with, "Weel, ye see it involves more than just reactors/Midgar/Shinra." It's favorite: "Ah wouldn't know much aboot that." Which meant it knew something, but was disinclined to say so.
Cait Sith, by it's own admission, had been designed as a spy. An infiltrator. It'd given Reeve tremendous gifts, and gratitude for them stifled Reeve's many questions. Couldn't that reaction have been anticipated and accommodated into whatever plans Cait Sith was carrying out? Other departments, Air and Space particularly, had suffered the insidious malice of outside influence lately.
"Cait Sith?" The stuffed cat lifted its head instantly. Reeve sat in the plush chair across from the A.I., crossing one knee over the other and lacing his fingers around it. "That new airship…" He paused. Was he right? He knew Cait Sith was working with a group. Passing comments from the A.I. indicated they were other time travelers. Did Reeve want to know about them? The more he learned, the more he changed categories from 'unwitting beneficent' to 'potential traitor'.
The cat sat up, waiting for him to collect his thoughts. Its tail flicked absently against the cushion.
Well, hanged for a chickabo, hanged for the chocobo. "Is that airship also from the future?"
Cait Sith's tail paused for a moment as the cat regarded him. "Ye sure ye want answers, laddie?"
That was an answer within itself. The airship, the terrorists, and Cait Sith were all connected. "Aren't you the one who told me not to turn a blind eye?"
"Aye, but sometimes havin' the ken o' things is dangerous."
The hairs stood up on the back of Reeve's neck, and he let out a strained chuckle. "Is that a threat, Cait Sith?"
A shake of the head. "Not from us. Never to ye. But from Shinra, ye know what they can be like, and we never want ye in trouble."
"Because I'm useful?" His question came out more bitter than he intended.
Cait Sith stood up in alarm. "Nae! 'Tis that ye're our friend."
Reeve sat back, blinking. Their friend? This group knew him in the future? From the Turks' reports, they were children, teens at most. How… A cold suspicion settled in his mind, chilling his limbs. Had his future self, attempting to erase his own regrets, sent children back in time? His fingers tightened against each other, the knuckles turning white. Again, the question of how time travel was even possible bounced around in his thoughts. "Cait Sith, how did you come back?"
The A.I. sat back down with a thump. "Weel, tweren't anyone's plan, just sort of happened."
"Just sort of happened?" he echoed. "You mean to tell me you traveled back in time by accident?"
The cat shrugged.
Groaning, he dropped his head into his hands. "Take pity on my curiosity, Cait Sith." He needed answers. In the last few months, his world had turned entirely on its head.
"Alright, if only ye'll help with a few things."
He looked up in surprise. Finally, answers. However… "First threats, now extortion?"
The cat's whiskers twitched upward. "Weel, ye're the one who designed me wit' an eye for such. Ah'm only cuttin' a deal."
With a sardonic smile, he asked, "What is your deal then?"
"In the future, there is a disease that'll cause an awful lot of harm. Shinra has the most advanced medicine, so we could use some information from here."
"Did you not find a cure in the future?" If that was the case, then what luck could they have in the past?
Again, the cat shrugged. "For somethin' similar, but that cure was like magic an' tis not available yet. Nae, degradation never had a cure."
The answers he was given were never enough to sate his curiosity, only enough to whet his appetite. Something similar, like magic, not available yet, degradation. It was like following a trail of crumbs that lead in many directions at once. "Shinra never looked into it?"
Swinging its legs, yellow boots thumping the chair, Cait Sith replied. "Oh, aye, they said they did. But nae, truth be told, Hollander didn't bother."
"Hollander?" Was his death linked to this, to degradation? Was this why he'd been killed?
"Aye. 'Tis Angeal and Genesis that are dyin', an' they'll take a goodly number of folk with them."
"Genesis and Angeal?" Rhapsodos and Hewley. "Aren't they the ones pursuing…" he trailed off, a quizzical frown on his face.
Cait Sith grinned back. "Ironic, isn't it? Whilst we try tae save their lives, they try an' stop us."
"Why? Why do all of this?"
"The future… 'Tis not the best. Not the worst either." The cat shook its head. "Still, lots o' folks died and ye don't expect us to watch that again, dae ye?"
"No, of course not." That would be an impossible thing to ask of any survivor. "You've killed others, why not those who are hunting you?"
"'Tis their orders, nae fault of their own in that. Besides, t'others were monsters. We're tryin' tae keep Genesis and Angeal from becomin' monsters."
"So you really intend to cure them while at the same time fighting them off?"
"Aye."
Reeve glanced at his desk. He was tempted to take notes, but he didn't want to have any incriminating physical evidence of this conversation. "If I'm understanding correctly, what you need is information on SOLDIER?" Shinra's strong arm, their glowing-eyed enforcers. Reeve asking for information on them would be suspicious and unusual, and therefore dangerous. It meant dealing with Hojo and the science department. With human experimentation.
He rested his chin on laced fingers, eyes narrowing. Then again, this group had already ransacked two off-site labs reportedly vital to the early development of SOLDIER and one of their number had enhancements. Who to trust, where did his loyalty lay?
Seeming unaware of his internal struggles, Cait Sith hummed, a slight mechanical whirr under the thick accent. "Mmm, some health records perhaps, but mostly chemicals, medicines, medical machines, that style of thing."
He sighed and sat straighter, running a hand through his hair. "Getting those will be difficult for me. Leaving aside the question of access for the moment, I'd have difficulties just getting them out of the building." Human experimentation, greed, thirst for power. The driving engine of technological advancement, the main stabilizing force on Gaia. Versus… what? A nebulous 'better future'? He didn't know this group well enough. What were their true goals? Their long term plans?
"I'm going to need to learn more about the group you're with, Cait Sith. I may have created you, but you have your own agency, that much is clear. Your group has killed and I'm not sure I approve. I want to meet them to form my own opinion before I help with this." When he'd joined Shinra, he hadn't known what the Company had done. Was capable of doing. He wouldn't blindly follow anyone again.
"Fair enoo, but Ah can dae a wee bit better. How would ye like tae meet yer future self?"
That floored him. "My future self?" His mind, normally processing many things at once, came to a complete stall. The thought shouldn't surprise him as much it did, but it did. It did. Even the dark thought he'd had minutes ago presumed his future self staying in the future.
Cait Shit laughed. "Ah told ye, we came back wit'out warnin'. Who'd ye think made those plans Ah gave ye?"
"I… he's here?"
"Yea, laddie, he's here."
"How soon could I meet him? And I mean, meet him, not just talk over the phone." It was easy to falsify voices, and Cait Sith could provide them with all his personal history. Part of him hated his suspicions and distrust, when the cat was being so helpful, but he had to know for certain.
"Weel, he'll have to wrap up what he's working on now. An' travel'll take a week or two. Think ye could get out of the building wit'out an escort?"
"If he can truly come to Midgar, I can figure something out."
"Alright, Ah'll let him know." The A.I. peered up at him. "So ye'll help us?"
Gears were already spinning in Reeve's mind. How to get into the Science Department's medical facilities, how to get out of Headquarters alone… Ideas and strategies flashed like lightning in his head. Once he got the items, he could send them to a warehouse below plate, and if it really was his future self, grant him access. Planning wouldn't harm anyone. He could always decide not to go through with it. "What are the exact items you need?"
The small office adjacent to the President's was sparse, the sleek metal furniture thoroughly impersonal. Balto set his katana atop the desk with a faint 'click' and sighed into the empty air. It had not been a good month. He pulled out his PHS and waited, counting the seconds. Exactly at four p.m., it rang. He answered with his codename.
"Katana."
The others checked in, a steely litany. It seemed that the entire active roster was on the conference call. When the last codename -Handgun- was stated, Veld took over.
"Alvis, your report first."
The most urgent, the one the president was waiting on.
"Right." He heard a sigh come down the line, not good news. "Junon first. Tseng and I arrived ninety-two minutes ago. The place is a mess. We found the detonation device, definitely matches Death Gods m.o. Identifying bodies is gonna be a pain. Got bits and pieces everywhere and we'll need the coroner's final judgment, but it's pretty safe to say Rufus Shinra is dead. So're our people."
Everyone reacted to the news differently. There were full curses and bitten off swears, a sigh, an intake of breath here and a stony silence there. Alone in the secluded office, Balto ran his hand over the scabbard of his blade. As a Turk, he was to protect company interests and assets. He'd had rookies guarding Rufus. Too late to go back and change things. He picked the sword up, looking grimly to his next task.
"I'll inform the president about his son."
"Wait for the rest of the reports. He hasn't budged on Air and Space, correct?" Veld asked.
"Correct." Balto set the sword down again. "He has no intention of meeting or compromising with their demands." Shinra had a personal 'no negotiation' policy. It was his way or no way. Something the Turks had always been able to handle before, but the larger the company grew, the more it stretched their resources.
Next, Veld questioned Freyra and Ruluf. "What are our chances of sabotaging them?"
"They're on high alert for unknowns, sir." Freyra sounded frustrated. "Loyalty to the airship captains is high, so undermining them will be difficult. There's a lot of bravado bolstering them, even more now that Qator's joined them." Freyra was a hunter and preferred taking out targets to reconnaissance. Her prey had flown the coop, though, so she'd had to settle for observing the fallout they'd caused in the rest of that department.
Ruluf gave an affirming grunt. "An outright attack or even a siege would be pointless. Not only will they just fly away and we'd end up damaging a lot of Shinra property, it'd tank any chance of getting the department back.
As for mechanical sabotage… It's a small area with a lot of people. They're packed worse than the slums. Pilots, air and ground crews, engineers, mechanics, office workers, air control, even the cooks and janitors. You can't go anywhere without at least another five people being there. They're living and sleeping in, on, and around the aircraft."
As they spoke, Balto pulled the surveillance images up on the boxy computer, clicking from them to photos taken by journalists and the ones that had spread through the fan clubs. The tiny town of Barrow was dwarfed by the encampment of aircraft sitting in its fields. Those in charge had done a remarkable job of keeping things clear for a speedy take off. All the planes faced the same direction. Helicopters lined the sides and the Valfarres were arranged in front, allowing both sets to get into the air to defend the slower Gelnikas and Atomos. Ideally, if they could sabotage the Valfarres, the rest of the planes would be ground bound behind them, without room to take off. From the photos, however, there seemed to be a constant crowd lounging around the jets.
And," Freyra jumped back in, "if we did manage to ground some, the mechanics are right there, along with a lot of tools and spare parts. We'd only get a few aircraft back and we'd have no way of fixing them ourselves. And, call me biased, I don't want to fly a helicopter fixed by the Weapons Department."
He could understand the sentiment. That department seemed to have a fatal flaw, typically of the 'berserk-rampage' type, in all their designs.
"We've followed up on the background checks of the group that infiltrated Air and Space." Ruluf shared. "It's all false. The places and people they mention all exist, but no one in those towns has ever met or heard of them. As for their IDs, well, someone slid fakes very neatly into our system."
Maur spoke up. A detective in his prior life, he had a knack for spotting tell-tale threads. "Veld, you said Valentine seemed to be a new addition to the chocobo group. Either making false IDs was the first thing he did, or they have another hacker and espionage expert."
Balto pulled up another file, a rather disturbing one, received from Banora. He and Veld had both read it already. "The report we got from Weapons Department says there were two red-caped gunmen aboard the strange airship. Both had long black hair and clawed, gold, prosthetic left arms." Two Valentines.
The noises that came down the line were like those following the confirmation of Rufus's death, but quieter. Fading into each other.
"It could be a uniform or disguise," said Balto, not believing his own words.
Ruluf grumbled, "We're dealing with the Science Department here. Those… aren't the first things coming to mind."
"Do you think Hojo cloned him?" Freyra's voice was filled with disgust and mild horror.
Emma, currently assigned assigned as a bodyguard on that floor and using the opportunity to investigate, answered, "We haven't found anything about cloning or the enhanced boy. Seems like most of the human experimentation research was kept offsite."
"At the destroyed labs, I bet," Alvis groaned.
Juget let out a frustrated growl, her voice full of static from the poor reception in Wutai. "So they're still a step ahead of us."
Balto was unbothered by the notion. Like Freyra, he had the instincts of a hunter. Hunters were always behind their prey until they could chase them down or set an ambush.
"We're catching up," said Cissnei. "Sir, have you made it to Fort Condor?"
Veld had arranged a naval blockade around Mideel Island, but the kids still slipped past it. By time a sighting was reported on the West continent, their pilots had already deserted them. Gathering up his forces and getting off the island had taken longer than expected due to a late season monsoon. However, that seemed to finally have given them some good luck. A large withdrawal was taken out of Strife Stable's bank account the prior evening in Fort Condor, and Veld's unit was close by.
"We spoke with the manager at the bank last night. CCTV of the ATM showed the engineer Shera making the withdrawal. The airship's been reported in the area, and we found tracks half an hour ago from the chocobos and motorcycle, heading northwest along the coast. I'm considering it proof that the groups met after the abduction in Nibelheim but have split again. Were you able to pin down the account?" Veld inquired.
"No, they closed it," Cissnei sighed. Juget was apparently not the only one frustrated. "It took me five weeks of following the gil through shell accounts, hedge funds and transfers. They hadn't touched any of their winnings from the birds or bets, I finally find it, they make a withdrawal and close it. I'm back to square one."
That seemed to be a running theme with this group. Dig up the airship, they come back and take it. Investigate in Nibelheim, they abduct the key witnesses. Locate the gil, and they empty the account. Not for the first time, he wondered if there was a mole leaking information. Or had Valentine become that good a hacker? He'd need to find time in his schedule to comb through the system again, looking for any back doors.
The conversation continued on around his thoughts. Veld gave an ultimatum. "We now know for sure they're using the race winnings to finance themselves. Cissnei, confiscate the chocobos and return to Midgar."
"Yessir."
The director continued, "Place wanted posters for them everywhere. No more visiting towns."
So, they were going to admit the targets were kids. "Are you sure you want wanted posters for children?"
"For the three teenagers who infiltrated Air and Space, yes. The little girl Marlene should be a person of interest they've been seen with. As for the other group, continue to call them runaways. We are looking to return them home. Mention that civilians are not to approach either group. The first are armed and dangerous, the latter… say they are likely to run if approached. Put a monetary reward on information about both groups."
"Yes, sir."
"Alvis, Tseng, were you able to find a connection in Nibelheim?"
"Very little," Alvis responded. Seemed that everyone had struck out. "Took a while to get into Claudia Strife's good graces, and even then she was tight lipped. She knew something. Kept her son away from us, but the kids showed up before we could crack her. Thanks to a drunk at the inn, we do have names. Cloud and Tifa Wallace, Yuffie, and Denzel."
Tseng, the rookie assigned with Alvis, added, "Mrs. Strife's child, the one you thought might have gone with them to the reactor, is also called Cloud. The Mayor's nine-year-old daughter is named Tifa."
"So, what? More clones? Cloud isn't a normal name, and there's already a connection to the name Strife because of the stable," Ruluf pointed out.
Alvis seemed skeptical. "Two things. Why clone kids? I can kinda understand cloning Valentine, his record is impressive. Random kids? Not so much. The ages don't line up either, unless the parents are in on it too, and know their kids aren't the originals."
The debunking was continued by Tseng. Balto had the impression that Alvis and the rookie had already hashed this out between themselves. "Nibelheim is a small village. Everyone in town would realize the difference. We've checked the birth records, and there's no sign of tampering. It seems like a lot of effort for little point."
He mulled that over. There very well could be a clone of Valentine, but Alvis was right about the kids. Their ages were just wrong. Was it possible to clone and then rapidly age someone? But if you had that technology, why leave them as children? Why the varied age range? How could that explain the apparent level of experience in the group?
Were they left as kids to distract or confuse those pursuing them? Had the Turks been considered as a threat by their creators, and the displaced ages a planned distraction meant to keep them spinning their wheels? But Valentine seemed new to the group. If this group was comprised of clones, why hadn't he been with them earlier? Surely it took more than a week to clone someone. And his clone was reportedly an older teen, not a preteen. Balto shook his head and took several deep breaths. The situation was headache-inducing.
"Something else," Emma spoke up again. "I might be reading too much into it, but the last name Wallace stands out to me. Barret, on the airfield, gave the last name Walls. It's too similar to be a coincidence, if you ask me."
A basic rule of infiltration. If you are going to lie about your name, give one you are likely to respond to.
Ruluf added, "If we're spitballing fake names and look-a-likes, what about Cid Haze and Cid Highwind? They look enough alike to be brothers, and reports say they act real similar."
"Yeah, but who'd be cloning random people?" Alvis was still not sold on the idea. "At least Valentine and the two kids are connected to Nibelheim; we know there was a lab there that dealt with human experimentation. Cid and Barret are just random."
"We don't know anything about Barret, but Cid Highwind is from Brarrow. That's one of the closest settlements to Nibelheim. Has he ever gone missing?" Maur inquired.
Balto clicked through personnel records, brining up Highwind's folder. "Nothing in his files suggests such."
"We'll still need to interview him," Veld replied. "Let's take a look at police and missing persons reports from the Brarrow and Nibel areas, too."
Balto stared at the stubbly blond man on the screen, his belligerent smile in his ID picture. "There's something else. We thought his incident with Heidegger was an accident, but he may be in line with this group."
"Or," Ruluf was quick to expand on that thought, "if we are dealing with clones, could he be a sleeper agent?"
Maur gave a thoughtful hum. "In either of those scenarios, they're running a really long game and have had years of preparation."
"They seem more reactionary. They reacted to the bombing, they reacted to Hollander, they reacted to us finding the airship. More opportunistic than anything," Freyra put in.
She did have a point, but…. "Every plan works until it meets the enemy."
"I think we're giving these kids too much credit," Juget grumbled.
Tseng spoke next, ever thoughtful. "I am not convinced they are clones, but there is definitely still a part of this group we don't know about, lurking in the shadows. Kids and teenagers are the active agents. Where are the adults behind them?"
"Right, someone built that airship," Cissnei agreed. "They've got one engineer and one mechanic that we know of - that's not nearly enough for a project of that size."
Emma joined the annoyed voices. "Okay. So how do we find these extra people?"
Rude spoke for the first time since checking in. "We need to capture at least one of the active agents."
"But they are highly mobile, and we aren't. Without Air and Space, Shinra is a lame duck," Freyra pointed out.
"Air and Space," Veld sighed. "Balto, we need the President to acknowledge their demands. I agree, the company is crippled without them. If Rufus had been in a helicopter instead of a vehicle, the attack wouldn't have worked. Tell the President that Palmer can be given a different position. As for the pilots… we can wait. Let them think they're forgiven."
"Even Highwind?" Ruluf prompted.
The director answered quickly. "Too many people will be watching him. Just light questioning for now. A medical test as well, without alerting the Science Department."
"The Wutaians have been emboldened by our recent troubles. It was because of our lack of air support that we lost Death God in the first place," Juget admitted.
"I want to clarify, we're sure it was Death God and not the Chocobo group that killed the Vice President?" Maur backtracked. "Taking out company bigwigs is more their style. Death God deals more in black market items and sabotage."
"They've avoided causing collateral damage. This bomb, which matches confirmed Death God designs, killed multiple civilians." Tseng was firm on this point. His voice shifted and became more musing as he continued. "Hollander and the scientists seemed to be deliberate, but Scarlet was in the process of throwing a grenade. Killing her could have been self-defense."
"If that was self-defense, I'll eat my foot," Ruluf grunted and Balto found himself silently agreeing. "That group used a Time Materia on me and Shotgun at the airfield. If they didn't want to kill Scarlet, they didn't have to."
Veld was of the same mind. "I agree with that assessment. That whole group freely uses status spells and items."
There was a faint crash and a bout of static on the line but no one seemed to pay it any mind. And since whoever's receiver had picked it up didn't seem to care, Balto also ignored it.
"Their only incidences of widespread damage seem to involve summons rather than bombs. Death God, however, is known for his explosives." Juget would know; she'd had more than one grenade thrown her way.
"Do we know his whereabouts?" Cissnei questioned.
Maur hummed. "Death God slips between Junon, Costa Del Sol and Wutai. He's probably on the water right now, either heading back here to Wutai or for Costa Del Sol."
There was another faint crash, slightly louder than the last, and Veld sighed, sounding put-upon. "I need to leave soon, the SOLDIERs with me are making up their own entertainment. Alvis, Tseng, pick up Death God's trail. Emma, Rude, continue looking into the Science Department, including cloning. Freyra, continue to monitor Air and Space. Ruluf, dig around for information on Cid Haze, Cid Highwind, Barret Walls, Barret Wallace and see if you can find likely doubles for Shera and Marlene. Cissnei, track and try to predict the movements of the unknown airship. I want it out of the sky. Does anyone else have something to add?"
He wanted to update Veld on the situation in Midgar. "The president is paranoid about further attacks and has assigned SOLDIERs as bodyguards to multiple people, stretching that division thin. I've patched a few holes in coverage with our rookies and interns." Two fewer rookies, now. He should've stretched somehow, and found someone more experienced to pair with Rufus.
"So we have no one extra?"
"Correct."
"Cissnei, in addition to gathering reports, you're to fill in the blanks where Balto needs you."
"Yes, sir."
Veld hung up with a final, "Let's get to work."
"Awww, man, guard duty sucks." Zack stretched out his arms, swinging them and rolling his shoulders, before starting a series of squats. He hated holding still. Standing outside some bigwig's office, staring down a short hallway at unmoving elevator doors, was so boring it was turning his mind to mush.
His fellow guard laughed. "Welcome to the army."
"Nuh uh." A squat punctuated each choppy phrase, down and up. "I'm going" down, up, "to be" down, up, "SOLDIER."
The other guy readjusted his rifle. Zack wasn't good at guessing people's ages, but he seemed to be in his late teens, a few years older than Zack. "You're confident."
Zack grinned. "Well, I have" down, up, "a mentor."
"A SOLDIER mentor?"
"Yeah!"
"That's pretty cool. Who's teaching you?"
Zack stood and readjusted his own rifle, fiddling with the strap. "I…uh… don't actually know him," he admitted. "I was told the other day that someone put in the paper work, but I haven't ever met the guy. He's on an extended mission or something."
The other trooper tilted his head. "Do you know his name?'
"Angeal Hewley."
His guard partner gave him an odd look, or at least the mouth and jaw that Zack could see of him behind the regulation helmet and green scarf went slack and flat.
"You don't know who Angeal Hewley is?"
"Uh… no. Should I?"
There was a sigh. "Angeal's a SOLDIER 1st class. One of the top three in the company."
"What! Really?"
"How did you miss that?"
Zack rubbed the back of his neck, his gloved hand hitting against his helmet instead. This headgear was so annoying. He took it off and ran his fingers through his now-free hair. The gelled spikes were half-squashed and going in different directions. "So, I'm Zack." He stuck out his other hand.
The other guard assessed it a moment before shaking. "Kunsel."
"Are you trying for SOLDIER too?"
"Technically, I already am one."
"No way! Why're you still wearing the trooper uniform?"
"I passed the last exam almost two months ago, but," Kunsel dropped his voice, "no one's gotten their enhancements since then. Rumor says they've run out of a vital ingredient."
He took a startled half-step back. "You're kidding! But… but they just let a 1st class mentor me. Wouldn't they cancel the program if they can't enhance people anymore?" That really sucked. Zack's shoulders drooped. He'd come all the way from Gongaga to be a hero. What would he do if he couldn't be SOLDIER?
Kunsel shrugged. "It's just a rumor… but if it is true, they're probably trying to find a replacement."
"I hope so." Zack was downcast enough to be quiet for five minutes. The only sounds in the hall were the secretary at her desk, clicking away at her computer, and the steady hollow whoosh of air through the vents.
"Do you know what exactly we're guarding against?" They were in the middle of Shinra Headquarters after all.
Another shrug. "Anyone who's not supposed to be here. There's been a lot of assassinations recently."
"Yeah, but anyone could stroll up to us and say they're here to drop off papers. How're we supposed to know if they're okay? What if they have a concealed weapon?"
Kunsel smiled. "Not as dumb as you look, huh?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Ignoring his second question, Kunsel answered his first. "Everyone needs to get approved by the secretary." The woman in question waved without looking up from her desk. "If she says it's alright, we let them in. If she says no and they get pushy, we subdue them. Simple. Did you read the mission brief at all?"
"Huh. Not really." He looked at the older woman at the desk, head tilting a little, before bouncing over.
"Zack! Get back here," Kunsel hissed.
Zack waved back to reassure his new friend. "Hey." At the desk, he gave his sunniest smile. "I'm Zack Fair, nice to meet you."
Kunsel's hiss had made the elderly lady look up. She smiled back, looking somewhat bemused. "Nice to meet you, Zack. I'm Mrs. Sharp."
"My buddy says you're going to vet people for us?"
"That's right."
"Well, then," he offered his hand, "Mrs. Sharp, it'll be a pleasure to work with you."
The crow's feet around her eyes lifted and she chuckled, accepting his hand. "I think, for once, I can return the pleasantry and mean it."
"Have you been in Midgar long?"
"A fair few years."
"So you would know where all the good places to eat are, right?"
She laughed, then put a hand demurely over her mouth. When her fingers dropped, she was still smiling. "I don't think a teenage boy would enjoy most of my suggestions, but there are a few places I could recommend."
Zack grinned and leaned down on the desk to listen, elbow propped up on his helmet. He'd learned in the barracks that people liked to talk about food and they liked to talk about their hometowns. It was an easy way to get to know them. When the elevator doors dinged, Zack glanced over alertly. A redhead in a rumpled suit, probably close to Kunsel's age, skulked into the room and scowled at him.
"Yo, infantry, aren't you supposed to be guarding the door?"
"I am."
The new guy snorted. "You're chatting up the secretary."
He straightened. He didn't like this guy's attitude. "I'm standing between the elevator and the door. Besides, everyone needs to be vetted by Mrs. Sharp." He looked over to her and tilted his head at the newcomer, raising his eyebrows in a silent 'He good?'
She sighed and nodded. "He's come by before. He's a member of Administrative Research."
"Which means I outrank you, so get back to your spot. And put your damn helmet on yo."
Zack wrinkled his nose but did as he was told, except for putting his helmet on. He tucked that securely under his arm.
"Helmet, yo."
He eyed the guy. "You know, I get the feeling you're supposed to iron your suit."
The redhead's smile turned sharp. "Think you're hot stuff, huh?" Zack frowned. No, he just didn't like bullies and this guy felt like one.
"What's your name and the name of your C.O.?"
"Zack Fair, and, uh…" He could give the name of his instructors, but they weren't at the top of his orders anymore. "Angeal Hewely. What's your name?"
The guy ignored the question. "So you're the one those forms were for." He looked Zack up and down. "You don't look like much."
"I'm still growing," he defended. He was, maybe, a bit short for fourteen, but he was decent for thirteen. It wasn't his fault Shinra said you had to be fourteen to enlist. Anyway, his birthday was only a couple months away. The white lie would stop niggling at him then.
Red just smirked and turned to Mrs. Sharp. "Any problems?"
She'd returned to typing. "Everything has been quiet."
"Right, just doing the rounds. If that guy gets bothersome, let me know and I'll have him transferred."
"Thank you, Reno, but Zack's fine."
"I'm off then, and you -" the guy pointed a mag rod at him, he hadn't even realized he was armed, "- stay at the door."
The elevator doors closed. Zack really wanted to stick his tongue out, but repressed the urge. Kunsel shook his head. "Zack, for your own self preservation, don't get on the Turks' bad side."
"Turks?"
"The Department of Administrative Research. There's all kinds of nasty rumors about them. Like - just don't do it, okay?"
"Sure, sure," he waved airily. That guy had gotten on his nerves, but he shook it off. He didn't want his mood to be negative. But now, he was stuck staring at the elevator again. He sighed and started doing squats.
*Notes
I know some people really like Rufus, but he was in the way, so he had to go. Lots of people write Reno being the same age as Cloud (which can be fun) but canonically, he's the same age as Rufus, and two years older than Zack. Who joined Shinra at thirteen, because of course he did. (Seriously, Shinra and its child soldiers, yick.)