Chapter One: Weiss' Ultimatum
The bounty hunter allowed himself an hour's rest when the Slave I touched the earth belonging to New Korriban. He had been cleared to proceed past the patrolling TIE squadrons that guarded the planet's orbit, even though he could clearly sense by their commanding officer's snippy tone that the Imperials were not entirely pleased to welcome him back.
The feeling was mutual.
New Korriban was a place that offered everything to a man, and then just as swiftly snatched it away. Like any new Imperial territory, the solutions offered to the planet's problems often created even more problems. There was no amount of Imperial military force that could rid them of the stinking delirious ex-SOLDIERs that crawled out of Midgar's ruins day-to-day, addicted and poisoned by the Mako they exposed themselves to. Nor could they erase the mistakes of the Shin-Ra Corporation, even as the people's new fascination with droids and speeders gradually allowed them to forget.
Boba Fett would not forget what New Korriban robbed him of. He lost more than just decent wages in chasing futilely after Cloud Strife and AVALANCHE. The only substance in the universe that he valued more than money was time. The Empire claimed that the Emperor executed Strife a year ago, and that the lesser members of his terrorist group fled, never to be heard from again. Darth Vader hadn't cared enough about the others to pay Fett to pursue them. It was for this reason that the Mandalorian bounty hunter never wanted to return. It had been a total waste of his resources, weapons and abilities as a professional killer.
So, after an hour of sleep in the Slave I's pilot chair, Boba Fett donned his armor, an invisible reminder to the ignorant Stormtroopers that escorted him of their true origins. They hadn't been stupid enough to bother him about carrying his blaster rifle, a wise decision on their part. Oh, he'd have been outnumbered eventually, but Fett was certain that they would never forget how hard they would have to work to off him.
So it was with begrudging silence that he greeted the garrison's two generals, Maximillian Veers, who looked like yet another haughty die-hard Imperial of stereotype, and Naomi Posada, who had been in the SOLDIER elite before the Imperials found her planet. Veers was visibly put off by Fett's ungraciousness, and the bounty hunter had expected that from him. Men like Veers looked down upon any shape or form that wasn't Imperial. Posada, on the other hand, furrowed her eyebrows slightly before getting straight to business.
"Glad you could make it," she said, her demeanor so drastically different from the other Imperials that Fett only briefly wondered what Veers' opinion of her was like. As she took some steps over to a rendered-to-scale holo of Midgar's ruins, Fett stared at her attire; the unusual blend of an Imperial officer's uniform and a Stormtrooper's armor. A white utility belt was slung casually around her hips while the gray slacks of her uniform were tucked into white Stormtrooper's boots. It was amazing they hadn't blasted her yet. "I know it's been a while since you've visited, so I thought it would be best to familiarize you with the territory. A lot has changed since last year."
Fett's voice crackled sharply from his worn helmet, staccato and harsh-sounding in comparison to her smooth tones. "Why don't you begin by telling me why I should even bother taking this job?"
Veers spoke while looking down his nose at Fett, clearly disgusted by the bounty hunter's lack of respect. "If you really hadn't cared for it, you wouldn't have come."
Posada shrugged. "Yes," she agreed. "If there are any details that bother you during this transaction, just point them out and we'll negotiate further."
"For one," Boba Fett began sternly, "I won't be going on any more wild goose chases for you. If you give me a mark, it'd better exist, and you'd better not change your mind about it this time. I'll find it, and I will get paid, regardless of any sudden sympathies you might feel for the merchandise."
"Fair enough," she replied. "Trust me, we won't want these ones to stay free."
Veers joined Posada at the holo projector table. At his command the image rendered itself into a surprisingly detailed world map of New Korriban's continents and landmasses. It was complete with accurate depictions of terrain, current weather patterns, the major cities such as Junon and Edge, and even the current locations of Imperial units dispatched on their respective assignments. Fett had never witnessed a more astounding virtual display.
Posada seemed to sense the bounty hunter's stunned silence and explained, "This is part of a major project that Shin-Ra likes to call the Synaptic Network. Advanced virtual models and similar technology is what the company is currently focusing their efforts on, and they've made this model accessible to our garrison. Actually, we've had this technology available for a while. We used to use it in SOLDIER for battle simulations and training exercises, but that required a whole separate room to be constructed. From what I hear, Shin-Ra is hoping to make training assemblies like the ones we used to have available to the entire Imperial Navy. It shouldn't be hard for them to eventually construct ones on Star Destroyers."
Veers rolled his eyes. "They've surpassed our holo technology, but still haven't navigated past their own moon."
"That won't happen for a while anyway," she replied, sounding irritated. "No thanks to the restrictions we've placed to the traffic on and off world."
"And we will continue to do so until Deepground is crushed," he countered, leaving her with little room for further argument. At Veers' command, the rendering focused closely on the pathetic ruined building that had once been Shin-Ra's headquarters in Midgar, a lone massive skyscraper in the middle of the dead city. "We've begun to suspect that Deepground may be stationed under Midgar, in a deep sublevel basement that the corporation was rumored to have constructed under the city. We are currently planning a massive strike against the location."
Boba Fett shifted his weight onto one leg, claiming skeptically, "From what I hear, you don't even have the men available for that kind of operation."
Veers angrily bristled, but Posada solemnly admitted, "Yes, it's true that Deepground's attack on Kalm weakened us significantly. The town won't even be in a condition to live in for more than several months. They've managed to abduct another three hundred civilians, adding to the 1200 they've taken from Junon."
"We won't be able to hold back the inevitable mass panic soon to come," Veers added, "even though we're silencing the output the media distributes concerning the abductions. Someone is bound to notice twelve-hundred souls missing from their cities."
"What we can't allow is for Vader to get involved," said Naomi, "otherwise New Korriban will face planetary bombardment should we fail. Deepground and the civilians, as well as this garrison, will feel the effects first hand."
"Lord Vader has little patience for renegade insurgents right now when he is in the midst of conflict with the Rebel Allaince," Veers warned. "He will not take the care and precaution we witnessed last year with the planet's discovery."
"Besides," Posada continued, "planetary bombardment isn't even the answer. Even if we bring all of Deepground out into the open, simply confronting them won't rid us of them. The way I see it, if we can capture the Tsviets, the Deepground army will have no one to receive orders from. The entire organization depends on those four or five individuals to function. Eliminate them, and their troops will be simple enough to deal with."
The world map holo changed to renderings of individual people, four of the elite Tsviets, their known stats and profiles displaying next to their floating images. "They are your targets," said Veers. "Dead or alive. Azul the Cerulean and Rosso the Crimson are the only ones likely enough to come out into the open during our initial attack. Nero the Sable and his brother Weiss the Immaculate will need more intensive pursuing."
"Azul the Cerulean?" Boba Fett questioned. "Is that what he calls himself now?" The Tsviet in question was the massive blue-haired humanoid with bright yellow eyes and pointed ears. His face was streaked with glowing blue lines reaching from his forehead to the bottom of his neck.
"You must begin immediately," Veers stated, "while we prepare the assault on Midgar. Destroy these Shin-Ra remnants, these ex-SOLDIERS that buried themselves under Midgar prior to Meteorfall. Should Deepground be allowed to grow, I fear that they may join forces with the Rebel Alliance."
Fett left them without another word, leaving the command center to return to his ship. Naomi Posada stared at the other general curiously as Veers sneered in disgust.
"Bounty hunters," he spat, shutting off the holo projection.
Naomi folded her arms across her chest. "Better than sending WRO agents, though. They're hardly experienced enough to handle it."
"Even so, if Fett fails, it will be our heads, not his!" Veers exclaimed, his calm composure shaken by fear for the Dark Lord.
"Relax," she told him, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear. "Reeve Tuesti is expected to arrive later after he assists us in Edge. Apparently the WRO has uncovered some more information regarding Deepground."
"Generals!"
An Imperial officer in black pointed to a view screen nearby, where a hazy communication was being displayed. "A Deepground transmission! Overriding all signals!"
Veers and Posada stepped towards the view screen, where a pale white-haired man sat laughing at his audience within the lines of static. "At last… the time has come to cleanse this world."
"What in the devil-!"
Naomi shushed Veers, turning back to the screen with furrowed eyebrows, her Mako-marked eyes glowing intensely. Movement in the command room ceased, the other officers growing quiet as the man's deep voice filled the air from all of the available audio speakers.
"The pure will be spared for the cause, while the tainted will be hunted down and exterminated." On a throne of some kind the man sat, his snow white hair disheveled all about in every direction, giving him an air of added insanity as he clenched his fist for the viewers."They shall be slashed, strangled and slaughtered… beaten, stabbed and crushed… garroted and impaled… shot and executed without mercy!"
"The time has come to cleanse this world..."
He began to laugh spitefully, long and viciously until the screen went black and the transmission was lost. The command room stirred, workers trying desperately to relocate the signal as their superiors began to demand results.
"Weiss the Immaculate," Posada muttered. "As leader he would have had to introduce himself to us at some point."
"Has he gone mad?" Veers questioned. "What sort of rebels would follow a man like that?"
"Ex-SOLDIER's," she answered, "with no where to go and only Shin-Ra to blame for their Mako addiction and sickness. With Shin-Ra no longer in control of the planet, they have only the Empire to harass."
Veers stared at her, looking grave. "We should send reinforcements to Edge."
She smiled at him. "Done and done, sugar."
Vincent Valentine, his back pressed against the wall, peered around the corner with narrowed crimson eyes. Rain fell all around him, hard and constant on the paved roads and flat-topped buildings in Edge. The weather was the only sound that reached his ears, for even on a weekend night, when the streets should have been filled with humming vehicles and busy people, the city of Edge was dead silent, save for the rain.
He suspected that the Imperials and their W.R.O backup were either working in stealth to find Deepground insurgents, or they had already wiped out by them. The details Reeve had given him were still hazy in Vincent's mind, and Weiss' declaration caused more questions to burn in his brain. The more they learned, the more confusing it all became.
Deepground SOLDIER: a secret project designed by President Shinra pre-Meteor Crisis to create warriors unbound by ethics in science or politics. Not that Shin-Ra had much ethics to start with, but it was not hard to imagine the amount of anti-Shinra opposition that would have emerged if Deepground had ever been found out. Only a handful of individuals knew of Deepground, and even someone in Reeve Tuesti's position had been excluded. Heideggar, Scarlet, and the head of biochemical research – Hojo – were likely to have been let in on the secret. Vincent was not surprised.
And what of the president's son, Rufus Shinra? He too had been kept ignorant, for his transition into office had been so hectic and rushed, thanks to Sephiroth's presence in the world. Never had the young successor known that he would have been in charge of an entire underground army, hidden from the world.
Vincent sighed. Had he never been called into Kalm by Reeve, he would have been left to his own devices, to sleep through it all. Let the Empire deal with it. It was their world now. But now he was involved. The Tsviets wanted something from him, and Vincent now had no choice but to suffer through yet another world crisis.
Perhaps it was meant to be his penance…?
Sharp clacking sounds woke him from his reverie. There was only supposed to be rain, but the clacking was like that of a woman's high heels…
Vincent turned on the spot, his three-barreled weapon brandished to point at the sound while a young woman's blaster pistol stared right at his nose. His eyes moved past her pretty face, noting that she had one eye permanently behind her glasses, to the identification badge pinned on the front pocket of her white lab coat.
"You're W.R.O?" he asked, keeping Cerberus leveled at her. She did not falter with her own firearm.
"Who's asking?" was her guarded response as her one good eye critically took in his eccentric appearance.
He lowered his weapon from her face, though she still kept hers on him. "Vincent Valentine. Reeve sent-,"
Blaster fire erupted from around the corner behind the woman. "Get down!" Vincent shouted as he pushed her gun arm out of the way. The woman spun as Vincent passed her, but she did not duck or hide. As Vincent rounded the corner she followed, only to catch a wounded stormtrooper that had been thrown her way. She grunted as she tried to support him with one arm. Vincent had already begun firing Cerberus, the blaster fire shooting from one barrel while solid bullets followed from the remaining two. The trio of masked Deepground soldiers fell to his attack, their suits flickering with the last traces of Mako veins before running dry.
That was one thing Vincent had immediately noticed in Kalm: unlike traditional members of SOLDIER, Deeground troops needed a constant supply of Mako in order to function and survive. Therefore their armor was integrated with vertical veins of Mako that fed directly into their bodies.
"Vincent," the woman called out to him. She had dragged the bleeding stormtrooper out of the rain and under an awning. Carefully she pried the cracked helmet off of him, revealing a face drenched in blood and cuts, as if someone had raked a set of sharp fingernails or talons across his profile.
"A-Ambushed!" the stormtrooper gasped, struggling to take in whatever air he could. "By… woman in red. Squad… wiped out."
The W.R.O woman knelt closer to him to carefully dab away at the blood with some gauze. "Where?" she asked softly, wincing as the Imperial flinched in pain even at her slightest touch.
"Warehouse at the edge of town," he replied, his voice sounding gradually worse with every word. His dark eyes flickered, eyelids tempted to shut forever. The woman gently shook him awake.
"They were," the stormtrooper whispered, "gathering… c-ci…ivillians." When the Imperial breathed his last, the woman stood up to face Vincent.
"General Posada told us that they would be sending more help, but this place is still a dead zone. What are they doing with the civilians they've been kidnapping from all of the cities?"
"They're also particular about which ones they take," Vincent informed her. "In Kalm I saw them shoot down a child but take the mother and the older sibling."
She rubbed the back of her neck tiredly. For the first time Vincent noticed that her other arm was hidden under her lab coat, not placed through the coat's sleeve. A replacement appendage with some mechanical components applied as well.
"Please accept my apologies for earlier. Actually, the Commissioner has told me a lot about you. I'm Shalua Rui, a researcher for the W.R.O." Pacing slowly about, Shalua looked around the street, but there were no more signs of Deepground. "I'm here on other business, though. I'll see you around."
With that she abruptly began to walk away out into the rain, her high heels clicking rapidly. "Business?" Vincent questioned. What business could there possibly be for the W.R.O other than Deepground?
Shalua halted, turning around to face him. "The Commissioner says I'm wasting my time here searching."
As she tried to leave again, he asked, "Searching for what?"
This time Shalua truly paused, her one open eye appearing remorseful. "For my reason to live." She left him then, and Vincent did not stop her. He turned in the opposite direction, heading to the warehouse the stormtrooper had described.