Author's Note: Believe it or not, this was quite a challenging chapter, especially when isolating different points of view. I hope it sounds alright... I figured it was either update now, or wait another week or two while I let it sit in the back of my mind. And since I'll be on vacation for a while, I really wanted to have something up before then! Well, please let me know how it sounds - if it turns out that I've missed an important idea, I may go back to change things. Ah, the perils of posting chapters of an in-progress story. XD Hope you enjoy! And thanks again to LuckyLadybug, for previewing things for me. :)

Hmm... I'm still trying to figure out which combination of line dividers looks best to separate the title from the rest of the chapter. FanFiction(dot)Net won't even let me include extra blank lines! It's draconian, I'm telling you...

Chapter Five

Faith of the Heart

Sephiroth trudged through the canyon, looking for some sign of civilization, but it all seemed to have been left behind at the unknown building. Had he been correct to come this way? Maybe he would have done better to take them back.

Zack remained limp in his arms, bundled up in Sephiroth's coat. He hadn't stirred once since Sephiroth had begun walking, and it worried him. Zack's head lay against his shoulder; his skin seemed too cool against Sephiroth's bare chest, making him wish he'd had a hood of some kind to prevent any further heat loss and protect the younger SOLDIER from the savage wind. The air gusted through the canyon, picking up dirt and sending the particles stinging against Sephiroth's skin.

The sky was still overcast, making their desolate surroundings seem all the more bleak. The golden-hued stone was gray and lifeless. There wasn't even a single hardy shrub or weed attempting to grow in sheltered nooks, and there was a distinct lack of any animal life as well – no insects or lizards braved this chilly weather.

Sephiroth judged that he'd been walking for close to two hours now. Despite Zack's weight in his arms, he traveled swiftly, seeking out anyone who might be able to aid them. If he had to, Sephiroth believed that he could tend to Zack…provided they had food, warmth, and shelter, all of which they now lacked. But with such a horrendous injury and the loss of blood he'd suffered, Zack would be slow to recover, if it wasn't already too late. And, having no means to repair the damaged bone and muscle, Sephiroth would be left with a difficult choice: to let it heal on its own as it was, or to risk the use of materia and accept the consequences of tissue mending incorrectly, both of which would likely lead to Zack being unable to use his arm well, if at all.

The thought of Zack, cheerful, optimistic, vibrant Zack, being reduced to one usable arm left a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. He would never forgive himself if it came to that.

Sephiroth would never admit it…but he was afraid.

He was afraid for his friend, afraid that, despite his best efforts, Zack might not make it. That even if he did, he'd be crippled for life, and the shadow that it would bring to shining violet eyes was something that he could not stand. As it was, Zack was barely clinging to life, shallow, labored breaths counting down precious minutes that he did not have. The idea that Zack wouldn't make it, that his life would be, once again, taken from him after everything that he'd gone through, was something that Sephiroth could not accept. And that it meant that Sephiroth would be left alone, friendless, was a thought more bleak than their surroundings.

For once, Sephiroth felt that he was running out of options. For all his knowledge, skill, and ingenuity as SOLDIER's most formidable General, he was beginning to dread that the dual-faced enemy he was now confronted with was one that he had no hope of overcoming: Time and Mother Nature. The time he had, he knew, was too short to allow him to keep walking endlessly. Yet this place, wherever on Gaia it was, offered nothing to him. He'd seen no shelter, no food or water… The best he could possibly do was bundle them up against the leeward side of one of the rocky crags. And that was it. But they'd be forced to move anyway, for the simple lack of provisions, and if the weather turned, there was no suitable place for them to take cover.

So, Sephiroth was forced to keep going, hoping that he might stumble upon some measure of salvation out here in the middle of nowhere. Gaia, he'd take all the hoards of Wutai over this in a heartbeat. At least then he'd have a fighting chance, and Zack would not be slipping away from him.

What was it that his old friends, Angeal and Genesis, had done, when they'd been faced with something so impossible that even their SOLDIER strength was not enough? Had they ever been faced with such a scenario? Sephiroth thought back, sifting through his memories.

Angeal… There was a time, early in the Wutai War, just after the first major battle, when they'd stood in a smoldering clearing wrought by Fire spells and Summons, surrounded by slain comrades and enemies. The battle had been a victory, but a close one. And, judging by the number of fallen Seconds and Thirds, Sephiroth would not have called it a victory at all.

There had been something in Angeal's eyes that day…something pained, haunted. Sephiroth had been saddened by the loss as well, but Angeal seemed to have taken it straight to his heart. There had been too many of the dead, on both sides, and, Gaia, they'd been so young… And Sephiroth had known that in each of their lifeless faces, Angeal had seen his own apprentice, Zack – just nearing the end of his initial training and so close to pinning on Third, so close to being sent here, to war, but far, far too young to die, just as these SOLDIERs had been.

That night, with the bonfire casting a solemn glow over the camp, Sephiroth had found Angeal. His friend had isolated himself from the others following the memorial service, and sat, with his head bowed and hands clasped, as if the weight of the entire world had been resting on his shoulders.

After a respectful silence, Sephiroth had asked him if he'd been praying for the fallen. And he'd been surprised to hear the answer: No. It had been too late for that – prayers would not help them now. That job was for the priests, to comfort those mourning their lost comrades.

No, Angeal had been praying not for the fallen, but for the rest of them. For Sephiroth, for the SOLDIERs under him, even for himself, that they'd find the right way to end this war. For all of ShinRa's Mako- and SOLDIER-given might, strength alone was not going to allow them to win. It would only create hollow victories, just like this one, and in the end, both sides would be left with nothing. Angeal prayed for the wisdom and guidance to see them all through to the end.

That had been Sephiroth's first real encounter with any type of religious belief, firsthand, at any rate. And even then, he hadn't been sure what exactly it was that Angeal had believed in, who he prayed to, whether it was anything concrete at all. After that, Sephiroth had noticed other SOLDIERs occasionally steal quiet moments from the bustle of activity around them, and he wondered if they, too, prayed for themselves and their comrades. Sephiroth wondered if he should be doing the same.

For a while, between the three of them, Angeal, Sephiroth, and Genesis, he believed that only Angeal had ever chosen to actively pray. Genesis often spoke of the Goddess through his beloved Loveless, so he assumed that she was the center of his beliefs, but, to Sephiroth's knowledge, Genesis had never seen fit to bow his head in prayer.

That was until he noticed that his friend would occasionally vanish at the end of a long day, when things had been particularly hard or challenging. Once, in Junon, after a difficult mission, Sephiroth had followed Genesis out to the other side of the city, away from the giant canon, where the grass was long and green, and the hills dropped off sharply into the ocean. The sun had been slowly sinking into the vast expanse of blue, painting the clear sky and landscape with hues of gold, and Genesis had just stood there, watching. For once, he'd been quiet, losing the smug attitude of superiority he often adopted. Of course, he could simply have been watching the sunset, but Sephiroth sensed that there had been something more personal to it… Perhaps, a peaceful moment shared with his Goddess. Sephiroth had never desired to intrude to find out for certain.

Sephiroth recalled these moments when his friends had sought guidance, aid, strength from some higher power. They'd been moments when they'd needed it most, when their own knowledge and abilities, remarkable though they were, just hadn't been enough.

And so, now, with Sephiroth's own strength ineffective against the nearly insurmountable problem before him, he decided to take a page out of his friends' books and do something that he'd rarely ever had reason to do: he prayed. He wasn't sure himself who or what he believed in, if anything at all… There was the Planet, Gaia, and Genesis's Goddess. He'd known of the church in the slums where Zack often visited Aerith, though what holy being it had once honored, Sephiroth did not know. And he had never encountered any all-powerful being in the Lifestream. He'd never once prayed for himself, never having felt the need for it, and, certainly now, after everything he'd done at the hands of ShinRa and Jenova, he hardly felt he deserved it.

But surely, if there was a god or goddess, or angel, watching over anyone, they'd be watching over Zack. He, more than anyone Sephiroth knew, deserved it. He'd always gone out of his way to help people, always came armed with an encouraging word or cheery smile. He'd brightened up Sephiroth's gloomy days more than once, and Angeal himself had seemed to regain a purpose and a bounce in his step once he'd begun to train the boy. Zack had never once given up on anyone, refusing to believe that goodness would not prevail; indeed, he'd even held his hand out to Genesis and brought him back from the brink. And when things had been at their worst, Zack was at his best, giving up everything he had been for a single, lost friend.

And for all that, for all that Zack had given and gone through, he deserved to be saved now. Sephiroth paused in his trek and cast searching emerald eyes skyward.

"…Please," he began, unsure exactly how one went about this sort of thing. "…I don't know how this should be done. …I don't know if I should be in a church, or kneeling…but there isn't time for that." He hesitated. "I don't know if you're there, or if you're listening, but please…do what you can to save him." He hugged Zack tighter. "I…don't know what more I can do."

He trailed off. Above him, the dark clouds hung, impassive. Around him, the cold wind continued, the harsh, rocky landscape unmoved by his words.

He hadn't expected a response, but still, he found some part of himself…disappointed. Turning his gaze back upon the clouds, he addressed them again, the barest hint of anger tinting his words.

"If you're really there…if there really is some god, some higher being, and if you really deserve your existence…then you'd help him! Zack has done nothing but good for this world, and for once, just for once, he deserves something back from it! He deserves something back from you." The thought of losing Zack squeezed Sephiroth's heart painfully. "And if you just sit there…if you just sit there and do nothing, and you let him die…then you're as undeserving of this world as Zack would be of you."

Sephiroth finished and waited, examining the sky, their surroundings, for any sign that his plea had been heard. How had Angeal and Genesis known when, or if, there had been anyone paying attention to them? Had they received some sign, some feeling? Or had they just somehow known, taken it on faith?

Still, the wind blew. The clouds remained; there was no heavenly light parting them to shine down from above, as had occurred in some of the movies Zack watched. And Sephiroth detected no magical path, or feeling, to draw them to salvation. He bowed his head, letting out a small sigh. It really wasn't surprising. There was no way to know whether he'd done any good, and as for faith… Well, with Zack dying in his arms, he needed something a little more concrete than that.

"I'm sorry, Zack," he whispered into the dark spikes. He wished he could offer some kind of reassurance to his unconscious friend, but with no aid presenting itself to them, he couldn't quite bring himself to give that empty hope. "Just…hold on." He told himself that the slight hitch in his voice was merely due to lack of water after walking for so long.

Resolving to keep traveling until he collapsed, Sephiroth continued. Surely, he'd come across some measure of civilization out here! He had to, there just wasn't any other option.

The next twenty minutes seemed like hours, with despair starting to weigh heavy on his heart. But suddenly, a resounding boom shook the landscape, sending small pebbles clattering down steep outcroppings. Sephiroth jolted as if physically struck; his head jerked up to scan for the cause of the disturbance.

There. In the sky, below the clouds, a small, dark shape was making a wide turn, coming back around. As Sephiroth watched, it rapidly grew in size, until he was able to distinguish a strange craft of some kind… Wings angled down and out on either side of the main body, while a shorter, abbreviated wing protruded from the top. It was difficult to make out any more details because of the craft's solid black color, but as it drew near, through a dark, vertical window in the nose of the craft, Sephiroth glimpsed the form of a pilot.

What on Gaia? The aircraft didn't look like anything Sephiroth had ever seen before. It certainly wasn't of ShinRa make, and, to his knowledge, Wutai had not possessed the technology to build something like this… Could ShinRa have developed something new? Or, perhaps acting in its place, the WRO, the World Regenesis Organization, had engineered some new vehicles.

The aircraft banked, mere meters from the ground, and slowly circled them. Sephiroth saw the pilot turn his head to acknowledge them, before steering the craft over a rocky embankment and disappearing down the other side. For a moment, Sephiroth stood frozen, hardly able to believe that this might be the salvation he was so desperately hoping for. Then he quickly made his way up the small rise to see that the craft had landed in a shallow basin in the landscape, wings now folded to a vertical position. At that very moment, a ramp was lowering from beneath the craft, and a dark figure descending to the ground. On the very edge of the horizon, where the clouds finally parted, the setting sun shone through, large and red, bathing everything in a crimson light, and casting long, dark shadows over the land.

Without wasting another moment, and filing away thoughts of caution for later consideration, Sephiroth swiftly headed down the steep slope. A combination of sliding on loose gravel, and bounding from one semi-stable purchase to another, allowed him to make it down in record time. Finally, he approached the waiting stranger. Whether the man was SOLDIER, Turk, WRO, or Wutai, he would help them, one way or another.

Yori Markos stood, awaiting the arrival of the two men. He hadn't yet decided what he would do…one of them appeared injured, so he assumed that they were hoping to request aid. He was mildly impressed with the way the silver-haired man took the slope – with the speed and quick reactions he displayed in leaping down the surface, there was almost no doubt that he would have to be a Force-user, if not a Jedi. And it was good that the man was hurrying – the Imperials would not be long in tracking him down.

He'd gone to the temple several hours ago, only to run afoul of a squad of Imperial stormtroopers, backed by a handful of the more elite shock troops packing thermal detonators and rocket launchers. He'd hoped to navigate around them, but there was only one way down to the crystal chamber, where he sensed the two Force anomalies to be, and the troopers had been in the way. So, rather than let the Empire get their hands on them, he'd had to confront the soldiers first. Matters of the Force were his domain, and he guarded them jealously.

The battle had been an annoyance, however, as the stormtroopers held out much longer than he would have expected of them, complicating things with their explosives. They'd obviously never fought anyone wielding a lightsaber, but they'd been resourceful, and were certainly not stupid. So, when the two strangers had emerged into the Grand Hall, he'd been unable to do anything about them. And, rather than follow them directly after the skirmish, he'd chosen to investigate the crystal chamber first – he had his priorities, after all, and neither one of the strangers would be getting very far.

What he found there had been unexpected: a large, smoldering black mass laid out in front of the crystals, completely unidentifiable. If it had been a creature of some kind, even that was difficult to tell due to the surprising lack of any solid bones; the fire must have burned incredibly hot. There'd also been the fading feeling of an ominous presence, similar to that of a Sith's tomb, but somehow different, in a way that he could not place.

He'd taken his time in examining the area, but found nothing else of interest, aside from a handful of useless shards from some blade. The crystals had been quiet, as they'd been when he'd visited once before, and betrayed no secrets of the events that had transpired there. So he left, rather frustrated with the lack of progress in determining what they were for.

Returning to his somewhat antiquated Theta-class shuttle, christened the Dushere, Yori abandoned the temple to track down the errant Force-users. Unfortunately, it seemed that the Imperial squad had been successful in communicating their plight to the ships in orbit, so he was left to contend with a heavily armed Imperial landing craft escorted by a squadron of TIE Interceptors. This was much more firepower than his modest shuttle could match, so he was forced to abandon his search and seek cover in the extensive canyons crisscrossing the planet's surface. Thankfully, the vertical solar arrays of the TIEs did nothing for their maneuverability in the planet's atmosphere, and he was able to push the modified engines of his shuttle to greater speeds to escape.

He'd eventually taken a chance, during a break in their surveillance, to hop out of the canyons and speed back toward the temple to locate his quarry. But he knew that time was limited, and he'd have to find them quickly, or abandon them to the Imperials and make his own escape. Powerful in the Force though he was, he was definitely not capable of taking on the small fleet in orbit.

And so, here he was. He noticed that the spiky-haired man was no longer hauling his silver-haired companion. Their positions had been reversed; he wondered when the other had been so seriously injured.

The man who now approached was tall, perhaps taller than Yori himself. He wore his hair quite long; the harsh wind tugged at it, sending it whipping around him. He was shirtless, wearing only black leather pants and boots, with some kind of harness crossing his chest, likely to hold the massive swords he carried. Yori found himself wondering at the point of such heavy weapons. Gleaming steel pauldrons on his shoulders completed the man's appearance.

Yori cast his curious gaze to the smaller man bundled in the arms of the first, but was unable to tell much about him, due to the long coat he was wrapped in. His black hair stuck out in all directions, framing a face that appeared rather young, but unnaturally pale. Yori sensed that he was dying.

The silver-haired man opened his mouth to say something, but Yori beat him to it. He didn't have time for idle chatter with the Imperials bearing down on them.

"Come with me. We need to leave, quickly." He didn't even stop to consider whether these two might have been allied with the Imperials. They were with him now, and he wasn't about to give them the choice, not when he had so many questions.

He pivoted on his heel, cloak billowing with the wind, and strode back up the ramp into the ship.

Sephiroth had examined the man in the fading light, as he approached. He judged him to be in his late thirties or early forties; he was tall, with thick, black hair pulled back in a short ponytail. He had pale, blue eyes that reminded Sephiroth of chips of glacier ice, and which studied him and Zack in turn. Sephiroth had the sudden, unreasonable urge to hide Zack from his penetrating gaze, but it was ridiculous and he pushed it away; they needed this man's help. Aside from the cape, the stranger was dressed in rather aristocratic-looking clothes, which were solid black, but accented with conservative red designs. Automatically searching for any weapons on the man, he noted two belts at his waist, but did not recognize any of the items they held. He did notice at least one knife handle in the top of one of the boots, but whether there was anything else, perhaps beneath his sleeves, Sephiroth could not ascertain.

At the man's quick words, Sephiroth was slightly taken aback, but wasted no time in following. The sooner this man could take them to a hospital, the sooner Zack could be saved.

"Put him back there." Sephiroth was directed through a circular doorway into a small room with metal bulkheads, furnished with a bed built into the side of the wall, and a workstation of some kind. He gently laid Zack onto the thin mattress, taking a moment to smooth the wind-blown hair out of his eyes. The motors in the ramp whirred as it lifted back into place, sealing them inside.

"Can you take us to the nearest civilization?" Sephiroth asked, urgently. "He's lost a lot of blood – he needs to be taken to a hospital." He looked up, only to find that the man had left them to head to the cockpit. He narrowed his eyes in irritation.

But the man had still apparently heard him. "The nearest civilization?" His cultured voice had an incredulous tone to it. "I'm afraid that's light years away."

Light years? Sephiroth shook his head, assuming it was some kind of expression.

"Where are we? I don't care where you take us, so long as it has suitable medical facilities. I'd prefer to avoid Midgar, but perhaps Junon or Kalm, or even Gongaga… Whatever is nearest." He couldn't expect that Gongaga would be near them, as the landscape was too different. But he had a feeling that Zack would like to go back to his hometown. It was someplace familiar and safe, and Sephiroth was sure he would very much like to see his family again. They would have to go there, once Zack recovered enough.

"…Junon…Gongaga…?" The pilot puzzled over those names, even as the hum from the aircraft engines increased, indicating a surge in power in preparation for takeoff. "I'm sorry, but I do not recognize those names. What system are they located in?"

"System? What do you mean?"

At this, the pilot turned in his chair to cast a strange look back down the short hallway at Sephiroth, raising his eyebrows. "Star system…?" At the uncomprehending look on Sephiroth's face, he turned his attention back to the controls. "Never mind. We'll sort things out back on my ship. There are medical facilities there."

Slowly, Sephiroth nodded, not sure what the pilot's problem was. What did he mean by "star system"? And how could he not know of Junon? Gongaga, Sephiroth could understand, it being a backwater town with a small population. But Junon housed a military base second only to Midgar's in size. It would have been ShinRa's secondary base of operations in the event of emergencies; it was not a small town.

In any case, that would be something to ask the pilot later. Right now, Sephiroth needed a medkit to tend to Zack during the flight.

"Do you have any emergency medical supplies?"

"There is a med-pack located in a drawer near the bed. Is it that critical? The flight will not take long."

Without answering, Sephiroth located the drawer and pulled out the pack. However, upon opening it, he was faced with a variety of items that didn't look at all familiar to him. There were some bandages, but that was about all he could reliably identify. He frowned in confusion.

The pilot glanced back, having not received an answer. "…If he's that bad off, you can try the spray hypo to stabilize him until we reach the ship."

The spray hypo… Sephiroth identified this as a small device, similar in basic form to a gun, with a trigger and needle. There was a small, circular port into which he judged a vial of some kind would be loaded.

"Is he human?"

The question caught Sephiroth by surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Your friend. Is he human?"

"…Yes…" Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at the absurd question.

"Then use the clear vial." And with that, the pilot raised the craft from the ground.

As it began to pick up speed, Sephiroth fitted the appropriate vial into the device, still wondering at the strange question. Then, sliding back the coat to reveal Zack's unbound arm, he located a vein and injected the fluid. There was no discernable change in Zack's condition, so he could only hope that it did some good.

An unexpected jolt from the sudden acceleration of the aircraft almost knocked Sephiroth over; he was forced to grab onto the sides of the bed in order to stay upright, and lay an arm across Zack to keep him from sliding from the bed.

What was the pilot doing? This was not how you handled a craft with injured people on board! He was about to state as much to the pilot, when he was cut off.

"If you're done back there, I recommend you strap yourselves in. There are Imperial craft tailing us, and they're just as likely to shoot us down as ask what we're doing."

Imperial craft? What was he talking about? Perplexed and increasingly annoyed by the strangeness of the entire situation, Sephiroth found straps on the bed to secure Zack in place, then, having no other place to sit other than the copilot's chair in the cockpit, he reluctantly left Zack's side to make his way forward.

"Would you explain what exactly is going on?" he demanded, buckling himself in. Through the windshield, the ground raced by beneath them. Suddenly, green streaks of light crossed their path, followed by an oddly shaped gray object, and the pilot banked the aircraft to the hard right, then pulled back on the yoke, sending them skyward. Sephiroth was pressed into his seat as they accelerated further, finally bursting through the cloud layer.

The unexpected brilliance of the sun dazzled his eyes, until the windshield darkened to compensate for it. Sephiroth expected the pilot to level off at some point, but they kept heading upward, further and further. Turbulence jostled them, making Sephiroth grit his teeth. He hoped Zack was doing alright!

The endless sky darkened to a deep sapphire, and finally to black, tiny points of light appearing and growing brighter. The turbulence soon faded, followed a moment later by the feeling of acceleration, and they were cruising smoothly. Then, the nose of the craft swung down and to the left, and Sephiroth was met with an utterly astonishing sight.

They were above the planet. So far above, in fact, that the curve of the golden-brown sphere was clearly visible, the thin layer of atmosphere causing the edge of the planet at the horizon to appear fuzzy. A moon, in crescent phase, hung brightly in the sky before them; it was to this that their craft seemed to be headed.

For a long moment, Sephiroth gazed at this view, speechless. He didn't know what to think. The vehicle he was on was no aircraft…it was a spaceship! But how was that even possible, when ShinRa had all but pulled the plug on their space program? Who was this person he was sitting beside? Suddenly, his previous words made sense, but only if he considered that… But, no, it was too impossible, too insane for it to be true…!

"Dak'tar IV. The fourth planet of the star Dak'tar, in the system of the same name. A bright little speck of nothing out here in the Unknown Regions." The pilot pointed to the moon. "That's where we're headed. My ship will meet us halfway; with the Imperials after us, it's going to be a close one." He indicated a small, bright, triangular shape off to the right. "They're moving to intercept us even now."

Sephiroth glanced at the distant object, the significance of it lost on him. He was still trying to wrap his mind around what he was seeing. He was now on a spaceship, there were, apparently, other spaceships, and they were much more advanced than what ShinRa had been capable of… Had they somehow been transported to the future? Or had people from other planets suddenly visited Gaia, in the short time between Sephiroth leaving the Lifestream and regaining consciousness? But those ideas were equally absurd…unless that short interval of time had been much longer than Sephiroth realized.

Or…had they not been on Gaia at all? Until that moment, Sephiroth had never questioned the assumption that they were merely some place on Gaia that he had never visited – the thought had never occurred to him that the very planet was different. Indeed, the pilot had called it…what was it…Dak'tar Four?

"That planet…it is not Gaia?" he asked.

"Gaia?" The pilot appeared puzzled. "No… It's listed in the charts as Dak'tar IV."

"Where is Gaia, then?"

"…I cannot say I've heard of it. I can look it up in the charts when we reach the ship…" He could look it up now, but didn't want to mess with it, not with the Imperials drawing ever closer.

Sephiroth frowned. Perhaps the man was simply calling Gaia by a different name. He couldn't see how it would be possible for them to have been transported to another planet. As the Lifestream had circled Gaia alone, it would be impossible to take them somewhere else, wouldn't it? Or did other planets also contain a Lifestream of their own? Jenova, after all, had come from somewhere, now that he thought of it, and how could there life without Lifestream? And if that was so, was it possible to link one planet to another?

"…Perhaps it would be best if we simply returned to one of the planet's cities," Sephiroth suggested, his thoughts racing. He wasn't about to journey off with some stranger to his waiting spaceship, not when he was so unprepared for this turn of events. He needed to find out what was going on and how this situation had come about before doing anything else. "They would be closer than your spaceship, in any case."

The pilot looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. "Have you forgotten what I said about the nearest civilization being light years away? There is nothing on that planet! It has been barren for centuries. There are no cities, no sentient life, no animal life, and no plant life. Dak'tar IV is as devoid of life as an asteroid. Until the two of you appeared there." He paused, examining Sephiroth. "…Surely you knew that?" He spoke as if it was impossible for Sephiroth not to know it.

Sephiroth remained silent, pondering this new information. What did that mean for Gaia? Either the planet was Gaia, or it wasn't, neither of which were possibilities that Sephiroth liked.

"…How did you arrive on the planet?" queried the stranger.

Sephiroth again chose not to answer, indicating that he did not wish to speak of the matter further. He needed to gather his thoughts, and he didn't know how much he should reveal to the pilot, especially when he didn't know what had happened himself. Whether the pilot was trustworthy was something that remained to be seen.

To his credit, the pilot did not inquire further, though Sephiroth could tell he was interested. Instead, the stranger turned his attention to the controls on the console before him. Sephiroth watched in silence, observing his actions, even as his mind raced to make sense of everything he'd seen.

"…These Imperials… Who are they? What do they want?"

The pilot again cast an incredulous look upon Sephiroth, causing him to wonder whether he should feign knowledge of the situation so as not to be at a disadvantage. It all really depended on who this person was, was his motives were. Could he be trusted with the fact that Sephiroth was as lost as he'd ever been, that he was entirely out of his element? The man had freely rescued them…but even so, at this point, there was a limit to how far Sephiroth was willing to extend that trust. He needed to be absolutely sure, especially with Zack so injured.

"…The Imperials? The Empire that, until recently, had ruled most of the known galaxy?" Sephiroth kept his expression impassive, allowing that to serve as whatever answer this man might take it for. Eventually, the man turned back to the controls. "Hmph. Have you been living in the Unknown Regions your entire life?"

The Unknown Regions? "…That…would not be an incorrect assumption." For all Sephiroth knew, it was true. If he was lucky, this would be an excuse he could fall back upon.

Surprise flickered through the pilot's eyes, not having expected Sephiroth to actually confirm that it was so. "…In that case, I'll see that you're updated on the affairs of the civilized galaxy-" Here, his lip curled slightly in scorn, though whether it was for Sephiroth's "origins" or the civilized galaxy itself, Sephiroth did not know. "-when we return to my ship."

Sephiroth inclined his head. "Thank you."

At that moment, the fighters that had been left behind in the atmosphere finally caught up with them. Their craft shook as they were hit.

"What-"

The pilot swore and juked the shuttle to the side. "TIE Interceptors. Fast little nuisances." At Sephiroth's blank look, he went on to explain, "Imperial fighter craft, each manned by a single pilot. If we're not careful, they'll blow us out of the sky." As he spoke, he manipulated additional controls, and soon the sound of the craft's aft laser cannon was heard, trailing the fighters across the sky, and dissuading them from sitting on their tail. One of the fighters dove past the viewscreen; quick reactions on the pilot's part sent bright red light lancing forward to blow it to pieces.

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. "Good shot."

The pilot grunted. "The computer's doing most of the targeting, but these Interceptors are too blasted quick. It's consistently lagging behind." He sent the shuttle through a series of stomach-churning evasive maneuvers. "Can you shoot?"

"…I can try."

"Good." The man gestured to a station just behind and to his left, facing outward. "The gunnery station gives you control over both the forward quad cannons and the aft; you can cycle between them to choose whichever works best for you. Keep them off our tail."

Vacating the copilot's seat, Sephiroth quickly slipped into the chair in front of the other station. Giving everything a cursory once-over, he gripped the yoke, moving it experimentally. It caused a set of green crosshairs to move on the screen before him. Seems rather straightforward, he mused. He quickly discovered that a toggle switch to the side of the screen caused it to alternate between views through the other cannons, and paused when an enemy blip appeared onscreen. Immediately, tiny symbols detailing information about the enemy craft materialized, though they were symbols that Sephiroth did not recognize. However, he assumed they were not relevant to shooting the fighter down, so he centered the crosshairs on it and pulled the trigger.

The guns sounded loud in his ears, and, from the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of red light up the forward viewscreen. But the enemy indicator on his console was still there. He had missed! Sephiroth narrowed his eyes in annoyance, and tried again, this time holding the trigger for a few seconds longer. The guns repeated, blasting away…and the indicator vanished. Sephiroth allowed a satisfied smirk.

"Good. Now just keep that up until we make it to the ship!" The pilot's voice sounded a tad strained. "I wouldn't doubt that the Imperials will be sending more fighters to intercept us, so the more you take down now, the less we have to deal with later. My ship is coming to pick us up, but, like I said, this is going to close."

Sephiroth nodded, and went back to targeting the fighters. They were coming in quickly now. The shuttle's other guns sounded around them; the computer took over those while he was occupied with one, but it again had little success.

"Why are they after us?" It couldn't be because they knew who Sephiroth and Zack were, could it? Sephiroth couldn't see how anyone would know of their return from the Lifestream, and even if they did, he was quite certain that no one other than ShinRa would be interested in killing or capturing them. But ShinRa was all but dead, and though the WRO might have an interest, surely they wouldn't risk killing Zack, not with Reeve heading the organization and being one of Cloud's companions.

"Likely because I destroyed one of their landing parties."

Sephiroth frowned. "Why-"

"It was either that, or let them get their hands on you. And trust me, that would not be a pleasant experience."

"What do you mean?"

The pilot smirked. "Let's just say that it's better for all of us that you not end up with them." The shuttle was abruptly put through a series of jarring maneuvers as a group of three TIEs tried to box them in.

Sephiroth's concentration was divided between shooting at the fighters and the conversation, but he wasn't sure he was satisfied with the answer. It would be something else to inquire about later.

The minutes passed quickly, and soon they were down to one last fighter. But it held back, just out of the ideal range for the guns, swooping in at intervals for quick shots, in a pattern that made it difficult for Sephiroth to predict which cannon would be needed. The bolts impacted against the shuttle's shields, causing the craft to shudder.

The pilot swore at the annoyance. "That thing is whittling down the shields faster than they can recharge." He pulled a lever and flipped a few switches. "Hold on. I'm going to shunt the remaining cannon energy to boost the shields, and then redirect everything to the engines." There was a beep, and the gunnery station went dark, then a jolt as the ship accelerated yet again.

They successfully pulled away from the lone fighter. But at that moment, a warning sound alerted them to yet another problem: a squadron of twelve additional TIEs were moving to intercept them, still some distance away.

"…These Imperials are persistent," Sephiroth commented.

The man beside him grunted. "I'm guessing they really didn't like it when I took out their landing party."

"Where's your ship?"

A set of pale blue eyes scanned the stars before them. "It should be…there." He pointed at a small shape toward the left, a fraction of the size of the triangular craft that had now more than tripled in size, and practically invisible but for the sunlight highlighting the side of it. He altered course, moving directly toward it. "With any luck, we might be able to reach it before the fighters arrive.

"That was some decent shooting back there, by the way. You act like you've done it before."

Sephiroth shrugged. "It was not difficult to pick up."

"It's no small matter to shoot down TIEs from a moving platform. Don't underestimate your abilities." The pilot peered over at him. "Perhaps the Force was guiding you."

The SOLDIER grunted noncommittally; again, he didn't know what the man was referring to, and his thoughts were now on Zack. He was impatient for things to be over and to see how his friend was faring.

The pilot observed him in silence for a moment, then offered a hand. "Before things get worse, I'd like to know who I'm fighting with. I'm Yori Xan-Markos; this is my personal shuttle, the Dushere."

At this, Sephiroth turned to gaze at him, piercing emerald eyes studying the man, trying to determine whether he could at least be trusted with his name. Had they been on Gaia, Sephiroth would likely be interested in concealing his identity, just in case he was still a person of interest to ShinRa or the WRO. He wanted nothing to do with them. But, as they were now rocketing through space – and Sephiroth still found that hard to swallow – with no sign of Gaia or ShinRa anywhere, perhaps it no longer made a difference.

He gripped the pilot's hand firmly. "Sephiroth."

Yori nodded, staring at Sephiroth's eyes, which he had not gotten a good look at until this moment. They were SOLDIER eyes, glowing with the power of Mako. A brighter shade of green surrounded the pupils, while dark flecks dotted the irises. They would have been utterly captivating, were it not for the shape of the pupils – they were slitted, much like a cat's, and stared unwaveringly into Yori's own eyes, slightly unnerving him. The pilot dropped his gaze, turning back to the console. Sephiroth continued to observe him, attempting to learn more about the ship he was piloting.

After that, things happened quickly. They were able to close the distance to Yori's ship, arriving just as the TIE Interceptors came within range. Under cover of the new ship's cannons, and through some risky maneuvering, Yori was able to make it inside the docking bay to land. Sephiroth quickly collected Zack and they vacated the shuttle, even as the larger ship – a Corellian corvette, the Kolidere, Sephiroth had learned – came under attack of the guns of the Imperial ship – a Star Destroyer.

Sephiroth, now more concerned about the young man in his arms, demanded medical attention, even as Yori Markos barked orders into a communicator of some kind. Sephiroth overheard him directing others to prepare the "S-drive" for immediate use, and then he was ushered down a hallway to a small medical bay. At that point, Yori quickly left them to attend to other things, and Sephiroth and Zack were turned over to a doctor and his assistant.

"He's fading fast!"

This, Sephiroth did not need them to tell him, for he already knew from the pallor of Zack's skin, and his shallow, rapid pulse. The leather coat was ripped away, tossed carelessly into a corner, and the extent of the blood soaking the once blue sweater made Sephiroth feel sick. This was immediately cut away, the crude bandages disposed of, revealing the full degree of the wounds. He spoke quickly, telling them what he knew of Zack's injuries, while the doctor instructed his assistant, and various medical devices were urgently prepared. With all the commotion, a part of Sephiroth wondered in annoyance whether they were even listening to him. Would Zack be alright? How much blood had he lost? Could they fix his shoulder? He seemed to have trouble breathing – could they take care of that?

…Would Zack be alright?

Before he realized what was happening, Sephiroth stood outside the boundary to the medical ward, with the door sliding shut in his face. They had locked him out in order to attend to Zack; he could see dark shadows moving hastily about through the thick, frosted glass.

At that point, Sephiroth realized just how fast his heart was pounding, how quickly he was breathing. Bowing his head, he rested a hand against the door, trying to get himself under control, to calm down. All his fears came rushing back to him. He willed Zack to be okay.

You're safe now, Zack. They're going to take care of you, so you better pull through, you hear me? Please be alright, Zack.

Please…don't die.

And there Sephiroth remained, praying with all his heart and soul for the life of his best friend.

to be continued…