Warnings: Talk, talk, talk, talk

Chapter 30 : Diamonds and Guns

"But," SOLDIER First Class Torson argued, "If Deepground doesn't agree with Hojo's plans, why didn't they just kill the bastard? Even the little one... um, what's 'er name?" He snapped his fingers in frustration.

"Shelke," Kunsel provided.

"Yeah, her. Even she'd be able to break Dr. Creepy without breaking a sweat," the First finished.

"Hojo has the power of Jenova backing him up. That's not something to be dismissed lightly," Sephiroth said and they all fell silent once again. They'd finished reading the package and had been discussing the pros and cons of the General's theory for a while. Looking for ways to take advantage of the potential weakness Sephiroth had spotted. So far, they'd been talking in circles.

"It might be possible to fracture their alliance," Kunsel suggested.

"If the reports from Deuce are correct, they already have problems," someone argued, "They don't support each other's actions–"

"–but they don't interfere either," another counter-argued, "After all, they let Hojo call down Meteor." Several people nodded their heads.

"Destruction of the planet seems to be integral to both their goals so it would hardly matter who did it," Vincent said then buried his face in his collar as they all stared at him

Tifa's voice cut over the din, "Do we know for sure that Meteor will destroy the planet? I mean, won't it just burn up in the atmosphere like most cosmic rocks do?" They looked around the table at each other.

"That's wot caused Crater Lake, in't it; ast'roids 'itting the surface," Master-Sergeant Lutton said into the pause. He never spoke much in a crowd but he'd been unusually silent; Sephiroth hadn't pressed. He knew the burly NCO was following the conversation and, if he didn't say anything now, he would later when it was just him and the General.

"We have been hit before," Cloud agreed. He was at the side table getting more fresh fruit to eat and water to drink, following Dr. Imeera's instructions. He didn't want to admit that he was feeling better because of it but he felt more stable now and, when he wiped his face on the paper napkin, it had only a hint of green colour.

"Whether an asteroid survives the atmosphere depends on its size and composition." He put down his plate so he could use his hands and continued talking. "If it's mostly ice then, yeah, it'll likely melt away before it even hits the ground, but if it's mainly ores, such as nickel and lead, then it won't lose much mass. It'll just plow into the ground and cause a big hole, like Crater Lake. Scientists think that it's one of the factors that caused the civilization that built Bone Village to die out. The Crater Lake asteroid hit the planet so hard it caused billions of tonnes of dust to enter the atmosphere, lowering the temperature and freezing just about all living things on the planet." He glanced up and saw that everyone was looking at him. Zack and the General were smiling, or maybe it was smirking. Cloud blushed hot enough to melt the ice in his glass.

"Continue," the General instructed. "How will this cause the planet to disintegrate?"

"If there's an almost equal mix of ores and ice then as it enters the atmosphere the friction will cause the ores to superheat, the ice melts into water, the water boils and turns into steam. The steam expands and causes the asteroid to explode." He flung his hands out to illustrate the effects of the blast. "Over land that would cause a shockwave that would take down trees and buildings for kilometers but "If one that size hits where the plates overlap," again he demonstrated with his hands, "then the asteroid might enter the planet's core. If it explodes close to the mantel then that'll likely set off a chain reaction causing the plates to burst apart like a frag-grenade." He looked up to see everyone in the room staring at him again. Zack was grinning. "It's a theory, anyway."

Tifa had to shut her mouth. "Where did you learn that stuff?"

"His mother probably had a book on the subject," Zack murmured to her in response and, oddly, Sephiroth's smiled deepened.

"Actually, I saw it on a science show. But the ShinRa library did have a few really good books about it." They were still looking at him. Zack was laughing. "What? It was interesting," he defended himself. It only made Zack's grin wider.

Sephiroth finally had mercy on the young Corporal. "That means that the initial hypothesis is still correct. If Meteor hits the planet, as Corporal Strife described, then it will break apart and Jenova will be returned to space."

"And what will Deepground get out of it?"

"They must control Omega," Tifa suggested, "Didn't Lucrecia say it was the last Weapon, and that he would, essentially, gather up all our spirit energy and take it somewhere beyond the stars for a new beginning, or something?"

She turned to the tall gunman beside her. Vincent inclined his head in agreement, "That's what the message said."

Zack smacked his head, then looked for and removed a sheet from the pile in front of him. He looked up at the red-eyed gunman, "So I guess Vinnie's coming with us to the Northern Caves," he said brightly. "After all, we need 'the Squire', otherwise known as Chaos, to fight 'the End Weapon', otherwise known as Omega."

Vincent said nothing. He didn't need to; Tifa asked the question for him. "What do you mean 'coming with us to the Northern Caves'?"

Zack leaned back in his seat, surprised that it wasn't obvious. "Well, isn't that what this meeting's ultimately about? Who's going to go up to the Northern Continent to kick their asses and save the world?"

The tent fell silent. "The army–" Torson started but Zack was already shaking his head.

"Even if we can get the whole Western Army moving in the next week, which I doubt, moving this many people through the pass, across the occupied territories to the northern coast, over the strait and then marching them up to the Northern Caves is going to take too long. Meteor is falling. I bet we have a week, maybe two at most before it gets here." Again, he shook his head. He tapped the table and his little wing hands mimicked the motion on his shoulder—just so they'd know how serious he was about this. "No, what we're talking about is a small, carefully selected strike force that will head directly there and take out the enemy at the top."

"And you're decidin' who goes on these prophecies of yours?" Lutton scoffed.

"Actually, yeah," Zack said. "For various reasons, we know Vincent Valentine is the Squire. He has to be there to fight Omega–"

"How do you know the Omega Weapon is still there?" Kunsel asked.

"Because it's the only one that didn't crawl out of the cave." Kunsel still looked confused, so did a couple of the others, so Zack explained further. He raised the pictures of the Weapons and named them, "Diamond. Ruby. Sapphire. Emerald. Ultimate. No Omega." They looked impressed at his reasoning and Zack nearly rolled his eyes at their obtuseness. Did they think he was just a grinning idiot? These guys had read the same reports he had and the conclusion was obvious. How could they not see it?

Oh shit.

Not 'seer' but 'SEE-er'. Another stupid fucking metaphor solved.

Oh well, he consoled himself, it's not like he was going to stay behind anyway.

"If Vincent is the Squire then who are the others?" Tifa asked.

"I'm the See-er because, uh," 'you guys are dense' wasn't a good way to put it, "because, with my modifications, I can easily navigate through the caves." Yay, bats.

"General Sephiroth would be Calamity's Child," Vincent stated. Sephiroth's eyebrow went up in challenge. "In the papers recovered from the lab, there were notes made of research made by Professor Gast. His wife was a Cetra and he interviewed her extensively on the decimation of her race. It was caused by 'a calamity from the skies' that they trapped in a Cetra named Jenova." He stopped there. He knew, because the test results has been saved, that Sephiroth, his son, had been modified until nearly two thirds of his body's cellular structure was the same as Jenova's. He knew, because it had been in one of the notebooks, that Hojo had told Sephiroth that Jenova was his mother. Lucrecia might not have existed for all the mention Hojo had made of his brilliant, deceased wife, but none of that was anybody's business but Sephiroth's, and his.

Sephiroth considered the gunman's explanation. It was, unfortunately, logical. "Agreed," he nodded.

He wasn't the only one who heard Zack's muttered 'Fucking Hojo.' Those closest to the large First backed away slightly and Sephiroth saw that Zack's eyes were glowing with furious emotion.

"Zack," he murmured, "you need to calm down. It was a long time ago." He placed his hand on Zack's shoulder because his friend's face had darkened in anger. The General knew that Zack was angry at Hojo—for him, for himself, for Cloud; for all the nameless, faceless victims of the professor's mad obsession. Small, bony fingers clutched his as Zack concentrated on his breathing, on unclenching muscles caught up in the desire to fight and destroy.

"Shit," Zack muttered back, "I should be doing better than this."

Cloud came up on the other side of him. He also placed a hand on the SOLDIER's shoulder, wincing only slightly as sharp talons scratched him. "Why? It's only human to want to kill the man who caused such misery, isn't it? Which is why I'm going with you to the Northern Caves." The last part was said defensively. His small chin was stuck out obstinately.

"Of course you are. You're my Heart." Sephiroth's voice was so bland and matter-of-fact that it took a moment for the other two to realize what he'd said. They both stared at him—along with the rest of the tent's occupants, to see if the Silver General realized what he'd just admitted. His cool composure gave them no clue but his eyes twinkled in satisfaction. Zack twisted to see how his young friend was taking the declaration and blinked in stunned amazement.

Cloud had coloured on just about every bit of skin they could see; from deep rose on his face and neck to a pretty pink on his chest and upper arms. His mouth hung open and his big eyes were impossibly wide in stunned disbelief, amazement and a hint of joy. He was so frozen into his bright pink pillar that, when Zack twisted his shoulder away, Cloud's hand remained in the exact same position as before.

Tifa's hands clapped over her mouth to restrain her delight. His own little wing hangs weren't quite so kind, they clapped unrestrainedly. The First's anger slid away and he smiled at his friend. "I should take a picture and use it as a demonstration of the term 'pole-axed'."

Cloud blinked and wondered why the room was getting so dark.

"Breathe Cloud," the General ordered.

Cloud managed a weak "Yes, Sir." The air felt good in his lungs.

"Just how do you plan to get up to the Northern Caves?" Kunsel asked, "Walk?"

"'e's right, guv. The Nibel pass is blocked 'cos of the radiation from the reactor."

"That probably wouldn't cause us any trouble," Sephiroth murmured. Zack's hands clenched.

"They can take a boat from the coast," someone suggested.

"Huh," Tifa snorted, "That would take just about as long as walking." Most of ShinRa's fleet was on the other side of the continent, ferrying supplies between Costa del Sol and Junon.

"What about flying?"

This time Kunsel snorted, "The pilot would have to be crazy to fly into DGS territory, like that."

Zack's fists relaxed and he grinned at his fellow SOLDIER, "Too bad Reno's not here. He'd be perfect." The two laughed at the memories. They'd both flown with the red-haired Turk before and it had usually been as exciting as actual battle.

Sephiroth looked at them, face calm. Although he'd never admit it, he was thankful Reno's innovative piloting skills wouldn't be inflicted upon him. It wasn't that Reno's flying made him scared or anything weak like that, just that the General preferred flights to be relaxing and uneventful. Neither of which Reno was known to provide when he was in charge of the helicopter.

"Still, it's a good idea. Even if you could only reach Icicle Inn–"

"What's left of it," Torson muttered bitterly and Zack remembered the First was originally from the skiing resort.

"It would still be a good start." Kunsel finished.

"Problem wif that, sirs, is that DGS has good air defences," Lutton commented, "And we 'aven't managed to figure out 'ow they do it. You'll be lucky if you reach the coast."

"I think we'll have to try it though, Master-Sergeant. As Zack said, time is tight. Who are our best pilots? Perhaps one of them would be willing to volunteer."

Before the Master-Sergeant could answer, the Firsts heard a brisk step approaching the tent. They all quieted—anybody interrupting this meeting probably wasn't bringing good news. Even the unenhanced of the group could hear the guard's responses to whatever the newcomer was saying, enough to know that the trooper was losing the fight to keep the guy out. There was a brisk knock on the door. Since this was immediately followed by the opening of the door, the General didn't bother inviting the person in.

"Good evening, Tseng," the General said.

"Good evening, General," the Turk said.

"Holy shit," said the stunned SOLDIER First Class. "Betcha Tseng would do it."

"No bet," Kunsel responded.

As it turned out, Tseng was there as a delivery boy, not as an instantaneous gift from the planet in response to their emergency. The items he had carried from Junon were a felt bag containing a small, pearl-white materia and instructions, which he handed to Sephiroth, and a box full of letters for Zack. Three year's worth of letters, written once a week, by hand, from Aerith to Zack. While Tseng filled the details of the Weapons' current locations (all over) and activities (nothing much), Zack sat with the box on his lap, running gentle fingertips over its surface. The rest of the world faded away.

"She really waited for you." It was Cloud's soft voice. The Corporal was crouched beside his chair.

Zack looked at him. Cloud had never really believed that anyone would be waiting for them or looking for them. One thing about the little blond; he was not an optimist. Cloud had taken his earplugs out and was rolling them around in his hand. It was costing him to have them out, Zack could tell; he was tense and jittery once again but at least his wings weren't flying out and knocking over everything in reach.

"So, are you going to open them or just stare at the box?" the Corporal asked.

"I'm gonna stare at it until I've convinced myself they're fucking real then open it?" Zack responded before changing the subject. "You must be doing better. No shades, no earplugs and your wings are mostly calm."

"It's still too loud, and I feel like I can taste stuff through my skin," the blond said. Zack nodded—he remembered the sensation, "but I won't be able to go on the helicopter with you tomorrow if I can't control everything."

"Seph said that?" Zack was surprised. The General had sounded pretty adamant about taking the soldier along.

"No, that Turk. He said piloting would be impossible with too many distractions."

Zack snorted, "I think it would take a lot more than you flapping your wings to distract Tseng." Cloud smiled dutifully but a small frown remained between his brows. "What?"

Cloud leaned closer while long, white wings fluttered in agitation, "I recognize him but I don't know where from. Just, seeing that dot on his head makes me think of being damn cold, for some reason."

That made Zack grin. "He was the pilot for the mission we met on—to the Northern Continent, as it happens. We got shot out of the sky and had to fucking crash land on the side of a snow covered mountain."

The blond frowned a little more; he couldn't quite remember it and he should remember it. After all, it was where he met Zack and that was important. His wings stretched out but he brought them back under control. "That doesn't exactly recommend him to me as a pilot."

"Hey! We walked away from it, didn't we?" Cloud shrugged, conceding the point. The First's smile fell away. He looked back at his box of letters. "That was a shitty, fucking mission. I should've said no, should've stayed in Midgar and let someone else go, but I was hoping–" his voice trailed off. He rubbed his box of letters. "Meeting you kind of made up for the rest of it."

Cloud stayed quiet although he let his wings wrap around them a little, giving his friend the illusion of privacy while the dark-haired SOLDIER worked through his unhappy thoughts. That mission was the one where Zack wound up killing Commander Hewley who'd been his role model and mentor. He'd been on the receiving end of a couple drunk and sloppy phone calls after that one.

Zack slanted a glance at the blond, "You know President Shinra is dead and the company is... ruined." Cloud nodded. Nobody had told him but he'd pieced it together from what he'd overheard. "It's a good thing they're gone because I'd've gone after them next." He lifted his eyes to look at his friend and Cloud was startled by how cold the normally sunny blue looked. "For all the things they did to people I care about, what they let happen, what they encouraged: torture, experiments, and just killing the planet. If the old board was still running things go after them and fucking tear them apart."

Cloud placed a comforting hand on the First's shoulder, rubbing lightly at the skinny fingers until they grabbed on tight. "We'll be going after Hojo tomorrow, the General said. Tifa's going to take us to the quartermaster's to get supplies; weapons, materia... and a new uniform for you. He's going to stay here with the camp people and go over long-range plans and strategies. I think they're going to try pushing up to Rocket Town as a distraction for us."

"Makes sense."

"They're not sounding too hopeful about it working. This flying up to the crater, I mean. They're not sure we'll even make it to the coast of the Northern Crater."

"We'll get there, Spike."

Cloud looked away, unable to voice his other concern; that he'd be as useless on this mission as he'd been on the last. It had been three years since he'd held a gun and, even then, he hadn't been great with them. 'Good enough for army work' had been the assessment. He'd been working on his sword handling, preparing for the day he'd be a SOLDIER, but he hadn't really fought anything with one but, again, that had been three years ago.

Slick, little talons flicked his nose, "I can see you putting yourself down," Zack said. "You gotta stop doing that, Spike."

Cloud rubbed his nose, "It's been three years, Zack. I have no idea what I can do."

"Exactly!" the First said firmly, "You have no damn idea. Possibilities are you'll be fucking great; as good as me, maybe even better. You don't know so don't be so fucking negative on yourself. When are we going to get our shit?"

Cloud looked around the tables. People were packing up and leaving. "Right now it looks like."

"Okay, okay." Zack stood up, clutching his box.

The blond looked at it, then at Zack. "You going to take that with you?"

He smiled sheepishly, "Thinking about it."

Cloud just laughed at him. "I forgot you're a romantic. Go put it in the General's private room, Commander. We'll wait for you outside." When Zack scooted off to put the precious box someplace safe, the blond wandered over to where Tifa and the spooky ex-Turk were standing with the intimidating current Turk.

"–brought it with me when we were informed that you'd been found alive." Valentine was inspecting a bizarre three-barrelled gun that looked more like a piece of art than a weapon. "I'm also to inform you that you've never officially been removed from the Turks payroll."

"Then did you bring my back pay with you as well?" the tall gunman growled out, obviously unimpressed.

"Administrative leave without pay. That can be changed however." Red eyes flashed gold. Tseng didn't even jump. "You can think about it and let me know your decision once we've finished this mission." The placid-looking Turk turned to the side to allow Cloud to join their group. The blond kept his distance from the Wutaian, carefully not looking at him. There was just something about the Turk that made Cloud think that he would be perfectly willing to scoop him up and take him somewhere to be 'lost' again.

"Corporal Strife, it's been a long time," Tseng said, "I hope you're well."

It was a polite phrase, said often and usually without meaning. Usually. Here it seemed like they'd all been hit with Silence materia as Cloud wondered how to respond without starting on the huge list of ShinRa's past misdeeds that the Turk could have prevented or changed, including but not limited to, the three years the young soldier had just spent being a lab specimen for a mad man. He wanted to flare his wings and bare his teeth at the guy. Valentine just wrapped his arms even tighter about himself until it seemed he was squeezing a black fog of dust out of his mantle. Even Tifa shifted uncomfortably.

"Um, yeah," the blond finally said, forcing his wings to go away where they wouldn't reveal anything.

"Commander Fair's just gone to store the box you brought him. I said we'd meet him outside so we'll be out of the General's way." The suggestion was eagerly seized upon by Tifa who persuaded Vincent to come along with them even though he said he had no need for either weapons or a uniform.

A quick question reassured them that they didn't need to worry about the Turk. He may have come on a simple delivery but he was prepared to fight the next Wutai war if required. He would stay behind and brief General Sephiroth on the latest events on the Eastern Continent. None of the three looked at any of the others but somehow Cloud knew that they'd all let out the same sigh of relief. Turks were too close to all of ShinRa's dirty dealings for any of them to want to spend much time with one, at least not so soon.

Outside the sky was soft. The day's colour was fading through indigo to black and becoming rich with stars. Three years since he'd seen this, Cloud thought then realized that it was probably even longer for Valentine. "They're so pretty."

"Can you see Meteor?" Tifa asked and they all looked around the sky for it.

"There," Vincent pointed it out. "That star doesn't belong."

"That's Meteor?" Tifa said dubiously, "It looks pretty small."

Cloud squinted at the bright red dot. "It'll get larger. That we can see it at all, at this distance, is not good." Cloud added. "If those Weapon things don't stop it, it's big enough to kill all living things on the planet, if the planet survives."

"Life is, by its very nature, impermanent. To become so attached to something so ephemeral... is unwise."

Tifa and Cloud just stared at the tall gunman. "But surely that's just part of living?" Tifa protested. "We have to make the most of it while we're alive."

Vincent looked at her, red eyes muted in the dim light, "I'm sure that's exactly what Rupert Shinra told himself as he sat in his tower; that he was just making the most of the life he'd been given."

Cloud snorted because he couldn't disagree with the ex-Turk. He could easily picture the self-satisfied President telling himself something like that and using it to justify his actions. In fact, people who had looked at this life as the only one they'd be given, who only thought of what they could gain in this life, not what they'd be leaving for future generations, often used that kind of reasoning to justify the most vile actions and decisions.

An image floated through his head of a young nurse who gave him a piece of chocolate to suck on while she changed bandages. A single parent who'd told him about wanting to give her daughter a better life but that she now couldn't look in the eyes. A human being who'd cried for him. A nameless person who'd died because she'd been kind. With that picture in his head he couldn't completely agree with the gunman either. Most people weren't like Old Man Shinra or Hojo or even Hollander. Immortality or travelling through the stars... ordinary people didn't dream of that, not seriously anyway. Most people were decent and kind. They were just trying to live a normal life and make the world a better place for their kids.

"That's just depressing," Tifa harrumphed and pulled Cloud out of his thoughts. She crossed her arms and turned away from them, preferring to stare at the door of the tent as if willing Zack to walk through. He did, and then stopped in the doorway, taken aback by the fighter's fierce glare. His wing hands waved hello, ignoring the tense atmosphere.

"What?" He didn't think he'd done anything to annoy the woman; not even a comment or an obvious downward glance...

"It's not you. It's these two," she said, jerking her thumb to indicate her companions. "I swear they'd look into a sunny sky and see tomorrow's rain."

Zack relaxed and his mouth lifted in a lopsided grin. "Oh yeah, well. That's why they need us." He walked forward, slung his arm over Tifa's shoulder and steered them away from the General's tent. "If they didn't have us to cheer them up, they'd bury themselves in a cave somewhere and not come out for a couple decades. Oh wait... one of them's already done that..." The SOLDIER winked at his companion. She giggled.

Cloud just sighed; it looked like Zack was in hyper status. He got this way sometimes, when he didn't feel able to deal with strong emotions. He looked to the gunman next to him, about to make a comment about it, but noticed that Valentine had tensed. The ex-Turk's narrowed eyes followed the dark-haired SOLDIER as he made Tifa laugh again. "He acts like a man without sin," he murmured to himself. He'd forgotten about the blond's new SOLDIER-level hearing.

"If anyone can be without sin, it's Zack. He's as close to being a hero as anyone you're ever going to meet." Cloud said, just as softly. He snuck another look at the dark-haired man who was glowering at the retreating pair. "You know, you don't have to worry. Zack's got a girl so he's not going to make a move on Tifa."

Vincent's eyes narrowed in annoyance. What was Strife suggesting? He wasn't thinking of the young fighter like that—as a romantic partner. He wasn't... because that would be... presumptuous. He still had to atone... he hadn't earned the right. He was unclean and she... wasn't.

*Ah, innocent love. How quaint... and how boring,* said the voice inside him. *It would be more fun to see her naked and sweaty.*

The ex-Turk growled—at both voices, "You are mistaken." He strode off, firmly. His longer legs allowed him to quickly outpace the group and their senseless chatter. After all, he already knew where they were going.

Cloud blinked in surprise. Did Valentine think no one would notice or did he not realize the way he looked at her? He shrugged the question away as it was hardly any of his business if the gunman did or didn't make a move on his childhood friend. Tifa was more than capable of making up her own mind about who she wanted to be with. He jogged forward until he caught up with his friends. Zack was teasing the woman about the tiny cowboy outfit she'd been wearing when they'd arrived in Nibelheim. It wasn't the size that he was calling her on, it was the lack of insulation because, as he said, it was freaking cold in the mountains. Cloud joined in the friendly insults, thin-blooded jungle boy versus thick-headed mountain folk. A game that lasted until they'd reached the supply tent.

They didn't see Vincent until Zack pointed him out. He was perched on top of the main pole of the adjacent structure.

"Woah," Cloud whispered.

"Vincent! We're going in," Tifa yelled, "Quit being a gargoyle and get down here." That made Zack bust out laughing, bending over and slapping his legs. Even Cloud had to snicker although he politely covered his mouth.

Vincent touched down lightly beside her, "I am not a gargoyle."

Tifa smiled, "Then don't act like one." She turned to include the others. "The first thing to do is get your weapons and accessories, that way we'll know how much materia we can bring."

"I do not need more weapons or a uniform," was Vincent's repeated objection.

"That's okay, neither do I," she countered and, sure enough, despite Vincent's objections, Tifa had them in the back room with a flash of authorization papers signed by the General himself. Uniforms for Cloud and Zack were easy to get. Supply always had plenty of SOLDIER uniforms. The clerk even had their names and sizes on her list so it was just a matter of pulling them out of the box. Cloud protested that he wasn't really a SOLDIER. Then he suggested that the uniform of a SOLDIER Third would be more appropriate since he hadn't gone through the proper training. The clerk just blew bubbles with her gum and hauled out the plain black of a First. "Sign here," she said and pointed at a line on her inventory sheet. Cloud readied himself for one more try but she gave him a bored look and snapped her gum in his face. He shut his mouth, defeated.

Then it was into the armoury to find weapons.

Vincent wandered over to the guns, of course. Cloud walked beside him but he snuck peeks at the sword rack. He'd barely begun practicing with them when he'd been sent to Nibelheim. It had been part of his dream and he'd wanted to be ready for the SOLDIER trials. After they'd been captured, and when they'd been healthy enough, Zack had used to make him do katas in his cell, as a way of focussing and exercising, and taking both their minds off their situation. However, broken and abbreviated exercises in a small room hardly constituted proper training. Imagining a blade in your hands was not the same as actually having one.

As a member of the regular army, he'd had extensive training on assault rifles, of course, and that's where all his experience lay. He picked out the one that most resembled the model he'd used before. The T Machine Gun was a reliable weapon, always had been, and he saw that it now had two materia slots—nice, except, when the clerk handed him one, it felt odd and unbalanced in his hand. Plus it didn't really go with the uniform—who ever heard of a First using a gun? He sighed unhappily.

Zack tapped on his shoulder, "Come look at the blades, Spike." Cloud opened his mouth to object. A pair of raised fingers stopped any words. "Tch, what did I tell you earlier?"

Cloud thought of the First teasing the ex-Turk, "That you have a death wish in the form of a warped sense of humour?"

Zack smiled, "Nice one, but no. That you don't know what you're capable of… so try out one of the swords."

Cloud gazed over at the racks of shiny weapons. It was tempting… "If you think it's a good idea." He allowed himself to be persuaded.

Unlike the guns, which were assembly-line standard issue clones of one another, the bladed weapons were made in small batches of a dozen or so, or they were unique, hand-crafted or personalized one-of-a-kind. Soldiers got attached to their guns but the relationship between a SOLDIER and his sword was often even more intense so, in order to do their best fighting, there had to be a connection between the sword and its wielder, and it could only be described as the 'feel' of it. That's why the swords were on easily accessible racks not kept behind a wide counter like the guns.

There was, of course, a ShinRa clerk keeping a careful eye on the stock, as the black-market for weapons was always high. The clerk, who prided himself on his knowledge of the blades he looked after, glanced at the slim blond and pulled out a slim sword. "Why doesn't the young man try this one?" the clerk said and held out a weapon not unlike the General's Masamune. "It's become a very popular style; light but strong—easy for our smaller warriors to handle."

Cloud took the hilt in his gloved hand. The gloves were stiff—part of his new SOLDIER First uniform, but that didn't explain why the Wutaian katana felt so… so wrong in his hand. It felt insubstantial, like a child's toy rather than a real weapon. He twirled it a couple time but quickly gave it back. The clerk raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"What about this one?" Zack suggested. It was a southern-style rapier with an elaborate hilt and an almost triangular blade. Heavier than the slim katana, Cloud still twirled it easily. He assumed an overhead stance and couldn't tell where the blade was in relation to his body. Still wrong. He handed it back.

"What's that one?" he pointed out a weapon with a fancy red-and-gold crossbar and a dark-red blade.

The clerk lifted his eyebrows in surprise, "That one?" he confirmed. When the blond nodded he pulled it out using both hands. "This is the Ragnarok X-series; one of the last blades developed by ShinRa's weapons department. It's said Director Scarlett took a personal interest in this one, hence the colour. It's heavy," he warned but Cloud just stood with his hand out. The clerk passed it over.

Cloud wrapped his right hand around it and carried it as if it were a feather. The young SOLDIER twirled it, swung it around his body in a figure-8 then brought it down in a decisive two-hand slash. He'd nicked himself with the sharp points of the guard. He frowned at the trickle of blood. The clerk stood frozen in surprise. He couldn't believe that the small SOLDIER had manipulated the heavy blade so easily. It was the first time his judgement had been so wrong.

Zack, watching his friend, could see small signs that the Ragnarok X wasn't a perfect fit. He saw another heavy sword with a much less flashy design. Brass rings worked into the crossbar would both hold materia and protect the wielder's hands. The blade had a wide black stripe down the middle that was etched with stylized cloud patterns. 'Perfect,' the dark-haired SOLDIER thought.

"Try this," he said and traded weapons with Cloud. The tiny tension lines disappeared from around the blond's eyes and mouth, replaced by a look of satisfaction. As the new SOLDIER danced with the sword Zack turned to hand the red sword back the supply clerk. "So what's that one called?" he asked with a jerk of his thumb over his shoulder.

"Actually, it doesn't have an official name. There's no record of it in any of the books," the clerk replied, "A submarine crew recovered it from a downed airplane and turned it in. They called it 'Heaven's Cloud' because of the decoration."

"Did you hear that, Spike? That one's got your name on it," Zack called out gleefully. He turned back to the ShinRa clerk. "Sign it out to Cloud Strife, SOLDIER First Class," he instructed.

"You're kidding me," the clerk said.

Zack just grinned and shook his head. He tapped an impatient finger on the log book, "Cloud Strife, SOLDIER First Class." With a shrug the clerk did as he was told. Cloud swung the sword and, with a twirl, hitched it to his back like he'd seen Zack do so many times. Tifa applauded the showy move and the black-haired SOLDIER gave him a thumbs-up. The young blond blushed and ducked but he gave a pleased smile. Zack had said he didn't know what he was capable of so he would do his best to be his best. Even if his skills were rusty or non-existent, he wouldn't let that deter him. He straightened his posture, determined to be fearless.

"Okay, great," Tifa said brightly, "Now we're off to the Materia Pit to load up on that."

'Oh crap,' Cloud panicked... and drooped… just a little.

AN: I know that the Ragnarok is, statistically, a better weapon than Heaven's Cloud but, come on, how could I resist a name like that? Besides, I never did like the spikes on the Ragnarok. Looks like a bad guy's weapon to me.