Before Crisis: The Beginning
By DarkAngel
Disclaimer: If I owned Square-Enix or any of its characters, ideas, indicia… whatever…
…things would not be good. Let's all be glad that I don't.
Author's Notes: This time, we move onto a different character: (Shotgun) from Before Crisis, whom I have given the strikingly normal name of Samantha. (Sorry – I suppose I should have chosen something like Storm or Zephyr to go along with Cloud and Highwind. The name stuck; I've no wish to change it.)
Chapter Two: The Beginning (Samantha)
When Samantha had announced that she was going to join the Turks, her parents had objected vehemently.
It wasn't because she would be joining the Shin-Ra Company. Unlike most of the others in Mideel, the Hartigan family had a number of business dealings with Shin-Ra affiliated companies and with the corporation itself; it was for this reason that they prospered.
It wasn't because taking up a job as one of Shin-Ra's Turks was considered unladylike; indeed, it was Samantha's parents who had introduced her to the fine sport of hunting, taking the young girl out when she was barely more than a toddler on forages in the woods and runs in the valleys.
It wasn't even that the job would be a dangerous one, although Samantha suspected this did worry her parents to some degree. Rather, the job, they said, would take her away from the family, and the plans they had for her.
To be fair to her parents, Samantha acknowledged that they had granted her much in her formative years, and she did owe them as a matter of obligation if not daughterly love. As a matter of fact, her childhood had been one in which she had known no privation, where her every whim and request had been granted instantly, and in which she had never known the meaning of the word "no".
And that, to Samantha, was exactly why it was important that she join the Turks. To her mind, her lifestyle was incomparable, but she didn't want to head straight into the favourable marriage her parents had no doubt already begun to arrange for her.
After what had been a blazing fight hot with tears and with much stamping and slamming of doors, Samantha had decided to follow her heart – even if it meant disobeying the wishes of her family.
So it was that one early morning, she found herself sneaking out of the estate, bypassing the watchmen and clambering out a side gate. She wasn't worried that she'd be seen by the cameras – after all, all she had to do was take the tests that would qualify her as a Turk. If she got in, that would put an end to the arguments. If she didn't, she could come back home, meek and apologetic, and life could go on as usual.
The nearest Shin-Ra training facility was in Junon. It took a day's journey by airplane to make it there. Samantha's arrangements had already been made for her, and she arrived under escort to a non-descript building in Upper Junon. She was lead down rather plain, almost-militaristic looking corridors to a set of double reinforced metal doors which slid open when one of her escorts slid a cardkey through the reader.
Inside was a large gymnasium like space with random crates spaced here and there. Off to the side were a couple of robots, inert. At the far end of the room a man in a dark suit was standing, apparently waiting for their arrival. He nodded at her escorts, who with smart salutes, turned around and left the room. The man approached.
"Miss Hartigan, yes? Welcome to Junon. I trust there were no problems on your journey?" It wasn't a question, and the man moved immediately to the point.
"You're here as a candidate for the Shin-Ra General Affairs Department, Investigative Division. You will undergo a series of exercises which will be evaluated by me and a hidden jury. You will be evaluated on a number of factors, including time, skill, speed, strength and ingenuity. The total time for the exercises will be eight hours. Do you have any questions so far?"
Samantha looked around. "Am I the only candidate here?"
"There are other candidates, but you are the only one here today, yes." The man continued. "We will begin at 10:00 tomorrow and will finish late tomorrow evening. If you pass the training exercises, you will be invited to an interview with the branch leader."
Samantha tried to hold down her incredulity at the schedule. She had known that it was going to be long, but surely they didn't expect her to run through all the exams without a break. She took one look at the agent and decided not to ask him; he seemed like the kind of person that would hold that kind of thing against her. She settled for a nod and a crisp "yes sir". The man nodded.
"You're free to do what you will until tomorrow at 10:00," he said. "Dismissed."
Samantha left, the beginnings of doubt starting to niggle at her. This was going to be harder than she had expected. What if she didn't make it? She realized then that she wanted to succeed – no she needed to succeed.
Her head snapped up. What was she worrying about? She was a Hartigan. She would face this challenge head on, without balking or backing down. That was who she was. If her examiners couldn't recognize her talent, that was their problem, and their loss.
As it turned out, she needn't have worried. While the examinations were tough, she got through all of them. By the time evening rolled around, she was raring to go for some more, and was disappointed when she was told that she had completed the last of the exercises. Putting down her shotgun, she turned around as the man from yesterday approached, hitting the switch to end the simulation.
"All right. Take a ten minute break, then report back here. We'll have made our decision by then."
Instinctively, Samantha looked around. She hadn't once seen anybody else aside from this man. That didn't mean they weren't there, but she wondered where they were. She hadn't spotted any surveillance cameras either.
When ten minutes were up, Samantha found herself staring at a group of four suited men and women, including the man from before. The latter, apparently in charge of this group, stepped forward.
"We've come to our decision. You will be taken to Midgar tonight by helicopter where you'll be interviewed by second-in-command of the Turks. He'll be the one who will make the final decision. Congratulations. You've passed the first stage."
Samantha let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She'd done it. All she had to do now was pass this interview – surely that was easier than the trials she had endured today – and she was in. She smiled. "Thank you."
The man nodded briefly. "Take a shower and prepare to leave at 21:00. Dismissed."
She nearly skipped all the way back to the hotel. She'd made it. She'd as good as made it. She wasn't in the least worried about the interview. The hard part was over, and that's all that mattered. On the chopper, she had the soundest sleep she'd had in a long time, secure in the knowledge that by this time tomorrow, she would be a fully fledged Turk.
When she arrived at the offices of the Turks at Midgar, she took a deep breath. Tapping twice, she entered.
The office was typical of a lot other offices around the world – not that Samantha would have known this, but she imagined it was typical. It was a wide open space with a number of desks. Pairs of desks facing one another took up the centre of the room. There was nobody here, and the only sound she could hear was her own breathing in the empty room. Her apprehension was tempered somewhat by disappointment. Somehow, she had expected more.
Sighing, she turned slowly on the spot. Where was she supposed to be going? She'd been access to this area of the building, but aside from being told that Tseng's office was on this floor, she hadn't been given much else in the way of a clue.
The door opened then, and Samantha spun around, coming face to face with a man of somewhat shorter stature. His hair was tied back into a neat if somewhat unimaginative ponytail, and his eyes were dark. Judging by his features, she guessed he was from Wutai.
"You're Samantha Hartigan." The man spoke matter-of-factly. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Please, follow me."
She was lead past the bullpen to a door just off a small corridor. The man who called himself Tseng allowed her to go in first before letting the door shut behind her. He took his place behind his desk and motioned for her to sit.
"Your records came in just this morning," he said. "Tell me, Ms. Hartigan, why do you want to work for the Shin-Ra Company?"
Samantha blinked. Well, that was certainly abrupt. She had been expecting some sort of pleasantry before moving into the other questions. "Why wouldn't I want to work for the company?" she said, smiling charmingly. Tseng merely looked at her, steepled hands obscuring his face. She tried again.
"I mean, it's a well known company, isn't it? One of the world's best. And I'd get to travel…" She trailed off. Somehow this wasn't going the way she wanted it to.
"Do you know what it is the Turks do, Ms. Hartigan?"
"They recruit for SOLDIER candidates, don't they?" She winced mentally as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Why did she have to sound so unsure?
Tseng nodded briefly. "Is there anything else the Turks are known for?"
At this question, Samantha frowned. What else could he mean? She had been told the basics: that she'd be travelling quite a lot, that she'd be doing some classified work for the company in addition to the regular jobs of recruiting and security. She told Tseng this.
"I'm going to give you a hypothetical situation, and I'd like to you answer me honestly," the dark haired man said at last.
Samantha nodded, feeling uncomfortable and unsure at this point.
"Let's say you're on a mission to guard the president. There is a suicide bomber approaching him. What would you do?"
"Stop him, of course."
"What if that bomber was a small child?"
Samantha's eyes widened. "I…" She swallowed. "Tell me that hasn't really happened."
"As I said, it's a hypothetical scenario. Answer the question, Ms. Hartigan."
"I guess I would have to stop her then."
"You guess?"
"Yes." Samantha paused. "The president's life depends on it."
Tseng watched for several moments, silent. Finally, he nodded. "Let's try one more scenario. There is a contagion in a village several kilometres away from Midgar. There is no way to cure the disease at the present time. The village has been quarantined but there's still a chance the disease could spread. Finally a decision is made to immolate the village – with the people inside. You are given the order. What would you do?"
Again Samantha paused, shocked. Why was he asking all these horrible questions? "I would do it," she answered at last.
"Do what, Ms. Hartigan?"
"Burn the village," she said.
"Even with all those lives on your hands?"
Another pause. She answered in the affirmative.
"Ms. Hartigan, are you aware that even a split second's pause could compromise not only your life, but the lives of your comrades, those you are commissioned to protect, as well as those of innocent bystanders?" Tseng leaned forward, looking sternly at her. "If you're going to have these kinds of qualms, I'd have to advise you not to become a Turk. A conscience is a good thing for a person to have, but for a Turk, it's a liability."
Samantha wasn't sure which declaration took her more by surprise.
"You may be asked to do things that are objectionable. Doubtless you will be given orders that will trouble your conscience. The question is whether you can still do those things. Can you do them, Ms. Hartigan?"
When she didn't answer, Tseng stood up. "There is one other thing to consider, Ms. Hartigan, and I would be careful before giving an answer."
She looked up, struck dumb.
"Signing a contract of employment with the Turks is different from signing a regular contract as an employee with anybody else. Due to the classified nature of our work, we deal with a great many of the company's secrets. It would not to do have those secrets leaked out. That is part of the reason why all contracts are signed once, and are not renewed." He turned from the window, looking at her. "What I'm saying is that once you become a Turk, there is no question of your leaving to do something else. All contracts are tenured on a lifetime basis – you will continue to work as a Turk until your retirement."
Her eyes widened. She hadn't known that. Tseng could obviously see that, for he gestured for her to stand up. "I know this decision isn't one that can be made lightly. I'll give you time to think about it." He paused. "I'll have someone show you out."
Samantha blinked. "You mean I got the job?"
"Assuming you want to take up the offer, yes. If you do, you can speak with reception on the second floor and they'll tell you what to do from there. As I understand it, you're due to go back to Mideel the day after tomorrow, correct?"
At her nod, he turned back to the window. "You'll have until your departure time to give us a response. Have a good day, Ms. Hartigan."
Samantha left the Shin-Ra building, dazed. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was still early in the afternoon.
The rest of the day, Samantha remained in that daze. She had wanted to do some shopping, but even this activity, which usually relaxed her, couldn't get her mind of Tseng's words.
Could she do the kinds of things that Tseng was hinting at? Would she be able to live with herself? Was she willing to stake her life on a job?
With a start, Samantha realized that that was the point he had been trying to make. Being a Turk wasn't just a job. It was something she would have to commit to, much like a marriage.
She wondered what her parents would have to say if they knew she was here now. Her father was probably throwing a fit now, assuming he hadn't already sent out the private security corps to look for her. She didn't even want to think about the hysterics her mother must be going through. She had left a note, but… Maybe she should call them and tell them what she was considering.
No. Samantha shook her head vigorously. Hadn't she come here because she wanted to choose the direction of her life for herself? If she phoned them, she would almost be obliged to come back, and then she'd have no choice at all.
That night she slept terribly. The decision she was going to have to make was gnawing at her. What should she do?
The next day, she went to Shin-Ra headquarters and gave Tseng her response. Then, walking some distance from the building, she took out her mobile phone, hitting the speed dial for her parents' house.
"Mom…" Samantha paused. "I need to tell you something."
It was a hard decision for both her and her family, but Samantha knew, that in the end, she had made the right decision. As she stood with her fellow rookie Turks in front of Tseng and Veld, she stood up straight, her gaze never wavering. She was a Turk, and like a Turk she would look forward. There was no hesitation, and no regret. That was not who she was.
It had been, after all, her choice to make.
Additional Author's Notes: Yes, the mental leap that got Samantha from questioning whether being a Turk was the right thing from her to her final decision is fuzzy and vague. I left it that way on purpose. Try to work through the rationales yourself – perhaps you too will understand. :)