Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Alliance ❯ Chapter 24

“Alliance”

Chapter 24

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(Warning: Possible spoilers for all FF7 game/movie titles)

*Disclaimer: Final Fantasy and all related characters belong to Square-Enix. This fiction piece is strictly a non-profit exercise of creativity and entertainment for people (like me) who can't get enough of this world and the characters.*

~***********************************************~

 

Slow, deliberate footsteps echoed in the huge cavern. People with glowing eyes, inhuman appendages varying from tails to claws to wings parted in the wake of the black and red-clad man. He walked calmly through their ranks, wearing the bored expression of one that knew he was better than all of them. He stopped before an un-natural formation of limestone and raw materia to look at the figure sitting upon it as a king would sit upon a throne.

 

“Hello, my brother.”

 

The powerfully built Tsviet raised his head to regard the visitor through wild, tangled locks of silver hair. His glacier-blue eyes were intense and volatile. He wore pants and a tunic of gray leather that fit close to his body but was supple enough for easy movement.

 

“Have you decided to join our cause and fight with us, Genesis?” His voice was cold and hollow, echoing what he felt inside now that he'd been used and discarded by Hojo.

 

Genesis shook his head. “You know I won't do that.”

 

“The Planet wills that the weak be cleansed!” Weiss growled. “You know it's either them or it's us. There can be no compromise. How can you oppose us?”

 

“I don't know which ear you've been listening to the goddess with,” Genesis murmured, “but I'm hearing something different. She doesn't want this.”

 

“We're monsters,” argued the Tsviet, “we can't fit in this world as it is. We have to change it for our survival.”

 

The feathers on the redhead's wing ruffled slightly with agitation. “Yes, we are `monsters',” agreed Genesis, “but changing the world to suit us would only make us more so. Our burden is to learn to find our own place in this world…not spread our monstrosity to make it easier.”

 

Weiss shrugged. “I disagree. If you didn't come to help, then why did you come?”

 

“I came to reason with you, one last time.” Genesis frowned. “The alliance is too strong. Even if you send your flyers out, it's only a matter of time before your opposition wins. Your mutation canisters are failing because your enemies anticipated biological weapons and they came prepared. Even now, they're working to immunize their ranks from it.”

 

Weiss's hands curled into fists. “And how would they manage to immunize, brother? I can't believe they just happened to come up with the formula on their own. The WRO scientists aren't that good. Was it you? Did you tell them how to do it?”

 

“Call off your army and surrender now, before it's too late,” Genesis said evenly. His aqua eyes held the pale, angry ones that were fixed on him. “I'm trying to do you a favor, Weiss. You once fought to free your brethren and give them a better life. What you're doing now isn't what you wanted…it's a symptom of Hojo's desires and you're free of him, now. You can get help from the same people you're fighting now, but not if you keep going until you're all destroyed.”

 

“The dogs we're fighting now are responsible for all of this!” Weiss shouted in a sudden rage, standing up. His followers grew restless, murmuring amongst themselves and eying Genesis dangerously.

 

Genesis narrowed his eyes on him. Weiss was still weak. It would take several more months for him to recover from his ordeal…if he fully recovered at all.

 

“No,” Genesis disagreed, shaking his head slowly. “They aren't. The ones who did this to us are long gone, brother. The people you're fighting against now weren't responsible for or aware of the Deepground project, the G-project or the S-project. If you must blame someone for what was done to you, then blame me. It was because of the loss of myself and Sephiroth that the former President desired a new, better breed of SOLDIER.”

 

“You always were too arrogant for your own good,” Weiss snarled, his body trembling with anger and fatigue. “You place more importance on yourself than you're worth and your words are twisted.”

 

Genesis cocked his head to one side thoughtfully. “Funny, I thought I was speaking plainly. I'm beginning to think people just aren't listening.”

 

“I've heard enough from you,” said Weiss. His eyes scanned the faces of the host of Deepground fighters he had yet to send into battle and Genesis guessed what was coming.

 

“I wouldn't, if I were you,” the redhead warned, his pleasant demeanor dropping.

 

“You've betrayed us,” Weiss said with a glare. He gave a nod and the others surrounded Genesis, closing in on him.

 

The redhead drew his sword and started on the defensive, spinning the ruby blade and deflecting attacks on all sides. He quickly lost patience when one of his attacker's claw weapons made it past his guard and gashed his arm, drawing blood and more importantly, tearing the leather sleeve of his jacket. Genesis reached inward and tapped his powers. He spread the fingers of his left hand and loosed a volley of explosive, fiery darts into the crowd, blowing several of his attackers off their feet and setting some on fire. He knocked others away with a powerful sweep of his wing and slashed still more of them with the sword he held in his right hand.

 

He now had space to launch an offensive. Angered by the damage to the only clothing he currently owned, Genesis demonstrated that no matter how refined and elegant he strove to be since discovering his love for literature, he could still be crass when angered.

 

“Fuck this.”

 

Genesis laid into his opponents, the red flash of his sword growing redder with the bright blood of those he'd once thought of as his allies. His left foot snapped up and kicked one unfortunate man in the face, but he got off easy compared to the operative behind him, who copped an eviscerating slash to his stomach. Several fighters tried to rush in behind Genesis but he sensed them coming and without looking at them, he turned his body to the side and threw his left hand out to give them another taste of his fire.

 

Weiss watched with mounting tension as Genesis cut his followers down like wheat. Still, the redhead was vastly outnumbered and it was only a matter of time before he was overwhelmed.

 

Genesis didn't give them the chance. He bent his legs and leaped into the air, flying over the heads of his opposition. Before any of the operatives capable of the same feat could follow, the redhead dove straight for Weiss and the Tsviet found himself staring down the length of Genesis's bloodied red sword.

 

“Call them off,” Genesis ordered, baring his teeth in a snarl. His eyes were flashing with anger, leaving little doubt that he'd only extend mercy to his “brother” for so long.

 

Weiss was unstable in his bitterness and confusion, but he wasn't a fool. “Stand down.”

 

The Deepground forces backed off, giving Genesis and their leader a wide berth.

 

“Rest your legs now, brother,” instructed the redhead.

 

Weiss sank back into his limestone seat, his eyes never leaving the other man's face.

 

Genesis's sculpted features relaxed a little and there was a hint of regret in his aqua gaze. “I would have preferred to do this without further bloodshed, but you refuse to cooperate,” he murmured. “I'm going to take my leave now, and if any of your followers try to stop me I will send my flames for you and you won't escape them. I'll give you one day to reconsider my proposal, brother.”

 

Weiss glared at him but he ordered his followers to let him go. With one last, hard look at the Tsviet, Genesis launched into the air and flew out of the cavern.

 

~*************************************~

 

The alliance forces still had the upper hand and they were slowly beating Deepground back again. The WRO produced vaccinations as quickly as they could and began to conduct the distribution rotation. Regiments were called off the field to go to the way camp, get immunized and return to battle so that the next group could do the same. They still had to wear their masks because the research team estimated it would take a little over twelve hours for the immunity to kick in.

 

Reeve insisted that Vincent be the very first to get the vaccination.

 

“The other fighters are just as important as I am,” argued Vincent with a pointed look at the queue of soldiers lined up outside the medical tent.

 

“I'm not sleeping with the other fighters,” Reeve said lightly, then in a more serious tone, he added; “And the other fighters don't have the ability to change into various demonic forms. Provided it doesn't kill you, what do you think would happen if you were to get a dose of the nasty gas, Vincent? Imagine your conscious mind being crippled, leaving only primal desires to drive you.”

 

Vincent's ruby gaze unfocused and a grim expression came over his marble features. “You make a compelling argument, Reeve. Very well, I'll take the vaccination now.”

 

The gunman followed his lover into the medical tent and voiced no complaint as he was given the injection. When it was done, he pulled his mask over his mouth and nose and looked into his lover's eyes again.

 

“Remember, keep off the field. I don't even want Cait Sith out there.”

 

“People are going to think you're overly protective, you know,” the engineer murmured as Vincent turned to leave.

 

The gunman looked at him over his shoulder and Reeve could tell by his ruby eyes that he was smiling faintly behind his mask.

 

“They wouldn't be wrong about that,” replied Vincent. He walked out then, leaving Reeve smirking a little with fond exasperation. He wasn't a fighter and he knew it. His mind and his power of invention were the strongest weapons at his disposal, and Vincent wanted to keep him and his inventive mind as far away from danger as possible. Still, it rankled the engineer at times that he couldn't be at his lover's side, watching his back.

 

~********************************~

 

By early afternoon, Deepground ran out of ground-to-air missiles and just when the allied forces thought there were no more obstacles to get in the way of their aerial fighters, a host of one-winged and hoverboard-mounted enemies rose from somewhere in the North, behind enemy lines.

 

“What the shit?” Reno blurted over the radio receiver as he saw the new threat.

 

“It seems they aren't without avian forces after all,” Tseng's voice said over the comm. unit.

 

“Dammit!” Cid swore. “They must have been keeping `em in reserve until they ran out of ground fire! How are you boys doing on ammo?”

 

“We're out of missiles,” reported Rude. “Still plenty of artillery, though.”

 

“Rockets wouldn't do much good against such small targets anyhow,” President Shinra observed. “All aircrafts, reserve explosives and let our people on the ground worry about the army down there. Concentrate on taking out the aerial threat and cover one another for retreat when a return to Icicle is required for refueling or reloading.”

 

In their helicopter, Tseng looked at his lover with concern. He'd been reluctant for Rufus to join the fight today even though he seemed healthy and perfectly capable of using the weapon system. Rufus was a leader and regardless of his marksmanship, his place wasn't in the thick of combat with the rest of them.

 

“Sir, perhaps I should take you back to Icicle where it's safer,” the Turk leader suggested.

 

Rufus shifted in his seat, trying to get his tail positioned so that he wasn't sitting directly on it. “Concentrate on flying and shooting, Tseng. I'm not going back unless it's an emergency and we need every aircraft at our disposal fighting this new threat off.”

 

Tseng sighed and made as if to do as he was told. When Rufus took his eyes off of him and started adjusting the targeting visor to focus on the new threat, the Wutaian did something that he knew he was going to suffer for later. The moment he had a clear shot, Tseng took careful aim and hit Rufus on the back of his stubborn head. His martial skills paid off and he put just enough force behind the blow to knock Rufus unconscious without causing anything worse than a mild headache later, when he regained consciousness.

 

“Forgive me, Koibito,” the Wutaian muttered as his lover crumpled soundlessly in his seat. “You're too important for this.”

 

With a heavy sigh and the knowledge that he risked execution at Rufus's hands later, Tseng turned his chopper around and started back toward Icicle. Reno's voice broke in on the private channel they shared.

 

“Yo, where are you going?” the redhead's tone was concerned. “Tseng, is everything all right with you and the Boss?”

 

“Everything is fine, Reno,” assured the Turk leader grimly. “I'm taking the president back to Icicle. Once I've secured him there, I'll refuel, reload and come back with another co-pilot.”

 

There was a moment of silence before the radio crackled and Reno spoke again. “Something tells me the boss ain't agreeing to this.”

 

“You're correct,” Tseng confirmed. “I've made him take a little nap. He has no place risking himself this way and he wouldn't listen to reason, so I'm making an executive decision for his own safety.”

 

More silence, and then: “You know he's gonna skin you alive and make a new coat out of you for this, don't ya?”

 

“It's a risk I'm willing to take. Concentrate on the fight and worry about what will happen to me later, when we all make it through this alive.”

 

Back in their helicopter, Reno and Rude looked at one another, both silently agreeing with Tseng that Rufus shouldn't be in the middle of the danger but knowing that once the president's mind was made up about something, changing it was like moving mountains.

 

~**************************************~

 

“Keep an eye out up above,” Cloud shouted to his comrades as the Deepground air fighters drew closer. “Anybody with long-range sniping weapons, take shots at them whenever you can!”

 

Vincent, Barret and all of the other fighters within hearing range that were equipped to do as Cloud asked kept one eye on the ground opposition and the other on the sky. Zack was too far away to hear the order but he'd heard the radio transmission announcing that air fighters were incoming and he held onto his sword with one hand and drew one of his guns from his thigh holsters with the other.

 

“Little closer,” the black-haired fighter coaxed the distant flyers under his breath. “Come to Daddy and get your surprise, kiddies.” He stopped in his tracks and frowned. “Or something less twisted sounding,” he muttered with a quick look around to see if anyone looked like they'd heard. He imagined if they did, he'd be getting a disgusted look from them. Honestly, he didn't know where he came up with half the stupid shit that flew out of his mouth. Thankfully his fellow combatants were too busy shooting or melee fighting to pay attention to his rambling.

 

~Brain, connect to mouth. No more stupid speeches, okay? Or at least stop talking out loud before you make a giant ass of yourself, got it? Got it. Good.~

 

He forgot his embarrassment when enemy gunfire struck the ground at his feet. He leaped away and searched for the responsible party. After a moment he shook his head and grimaced. There were too many of the enemy ground forces aiming guns at his people for him to pick out a single responsible target and retaliate.

 

He considered rushing into melee again but considering he was the only fighter in the allied forces capable of flying without a machine, he chose to pull back and wait for the air-born enemies to arrive. With Cloud and the others there, his presence or lack thereof wouldn't make much of a difference against the ground forces but the choppers and airships above couldn't perform delicate maneuvers—with the exception of Reno.

 

Of all of them, the redhead's piloting skills might enable more refined attacks against the small human targets coming their way but for the most part, it was probably going to be like trying to kill a swarm of wasps by swatting at them. They'd surely take a few of them out but not before they suffered dozens of stings.

 

~Funny…not a single one of them has more than one wing. Am I really the only one that got two?~

 

The host of Deepground aerial fighters began to fly past overhead and Zack forced himself to be patient and wait for the bulk of them to go by. Meanwhile, some of the allied ground forces around him started firing at them with long-range weapons while the front line continued to concentrate on the ground ranks. He could tell which shots Barret, who was several yards away from him, fired. He winced in unwilling sympathy as one of the winged Deepground operatives was hit by a mass of machine gun fire that literally tore his wing to shreds. The unfortunate fighter plummeted to the ground but he probably didn't feel it when he hit, because Barret's shots blew his body full of holes as well.

 

Familiar canisters were dropped into the ranks of the allied forces as the enemy force flew overhead and people checked their masks hastily. Less than half had gone through the vaccine rotation and even those that had still needed the masks until the immunization took effect. Zack checked his mask too as the battlefield was obscured by a massive fog of green vapors. He heard someone beside him choking and he turned to find a young WRO fighter clutching at her neck. There was a tear in her mask that had allowed the gas to get through.

 

Zack caught her and lowered her to the ground. Since her mask was useless now, he tore it off her face, took a deep breath and pulled his own mask off to secure it over her mouth and nose. He couldn't talk to her without wasting his breath and inhaling the vapor himself so he just nodded at her as she struggled to breathe. He spotted Cloud driving Fenrir his way as the blonde checked on the ranks and he stood up to wave wildly at him. Thankfully, the other fighter saw the motion and he pulled Fenrir up to his side.

 

“Where the hell is your mask?!” Cloud hollered with alarm. The ShinRa helicopters and WRO airships began to fire on the Deepground flyers overhead, drowning out part of his sentence with their powerful guns.

 

Zack pointed at the gasping young woman on the ground, then to her ruined mask lying beside her. He couldn't hold his breath much longer and he looked around for a patch of clear air to fly to. Cloud quickly popped open a compartment on his bike and pulled out a spare mask.

 

“Here, put it on!” yelled the blonde.

 

Zack took the mask thankfully and fit it over his head, strapping it securely before taking a breath. “Whew! Thanks, buddy! I didn't know what else to do…couldn't just leave her choking like that!”

 

“She already inhaled it and you put yourself at risk anyway?” Cloud asked, his expression behind his mask visibly thunderous.

 

Zack shrugged, feeling a little foolish. “Damsel in distress, man. You know me.”

 

Cloud shook his head at him but his eyes had softened fondly. He shouted orders out, motioning for the back ranks to come and get the woman to take her to the way camp for observation and treatment. When they came and got her, Cloud scanned the ranks with his eyes before regarding Zack again.

 

“Just be more careful,” the blonde said.

 

Zack saluted him with a grin and looked up at the skies. “Well, they've passed over us, so that's my cue to get busy. You be careful too, featherhead.” With that said, he bunched powerful thigh muscles and leaped into the air, snapping his wings out to catch the vapor-polluted currents. Cloud watched him go with faint worry but there was nothing he could do to stop him. Zack was the only one of the ground team that could fight those flyers in the air…unless Vincent happened to transform into Chaos—and nobody really wanted that.

 

He'd completely forgotten about Yuffie and the other WRO's that had come into the battle on hoverboards. He was shocked into remembering about them when the young ninja girl sped past him with a wild yell. She swerved up into the sky after Zack with a handful of other fighters following her.

 

Now Cloud was the one feeling foolish.

 

~**********************************~

 

Tseng ordered the troops guarding the perimeter of Icicle to refuel and reload his chopper and find him another co-pilot while he carried Rufus into town, slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He ignored the wide-eyed, questioning looks people gave him and he made his way through town to the Inn. There were Turks, ShinRa troops and WRO operatives all over town, stationed there for protection in case Deepground tried to move in on Icicle while the bulk of their forces were fighting on the field.

 

“Take him to our room and have the door and windows guarded,” the Turk leader ordered when a couple of nearby ShinRa troops. “Do not, under any circumstance, let him leave until our people and the enemy have cleared the field for the day. Is that understood?” He panted softly, trying to catch his breath from the exertion of hurrying into town carrying a full-grown man. Rufus wasn't built heavily but limp as he was, his deadweight wasn't easy to carry for long.

 

They took the unconscious president from him but they didn't immediately carry him inside. “Sir, has something happened to President Shinra that's affecting his judgment or loyalties?” the one on the left inquired warily.

 

“No,” answered Tseng between labored breaths. “He isn't a security threat to anyone except for himself.”

 

“You're asking us to hold the president hostage in his own room!” the other trooper pointed out in a scandalized tone.

 

“I'm not asking,” Tseng said with a hard look. “I'm telling you. His safety is compromised on that field and part of our first duty is to protect him, understood? I'll take full responsibility, so you needn't worry about being the target of his ire.”

 

The two troopers glanced at one another but they didn't argue with him. “Remember, have all the windows to that room watched,” Tseng reiterated as they carried Rufus inside. “In fact, have the entire perimeter of the Inn guarded,” he added after a moment's thought as he remembered a few months ago when Rufus had been kidnapped and held for ransom. The resourceful man had somehow gotten into the warehouse ventilation system to evade his captors while his people worked to rescue him and Tseng had no doubt that he'd find some way to get out of the Inn if he was given the chance.

 

~It's really no wonder that his genetic build responded to the Deepground vapor by giving him a cat's tail. He certainly has a feline knack for escapes and defying death.~

 

~****************************~

 

Zack came up behind the Deepground flyers, totally unaware that he had any backup joining him. Like Cloud, he'd forgotten that some of the WRO ground operatives were fighting on hoverboards. They hadn't been using them because they didn't want to get in the way of the aircraft fire but now they joined him to flank the enemy air ranks.

 

Zack knew he was taking the risk of getting hit with friendly fire as he closed the distance and picked out his targets. Cid, Reno and their fellow pilots had opened fire on them and more than once, Zack felt a bullet whiz by him. His body armor would probably deflect most lethal hits but his wings were unprotected. Deciding it was better to be safe than sorry, he activated the Barrier materia he had equipped before taking aim with his gun. His target was the hoverboard that one of the enemies was riding but he knew his chances of actually hitting the thing weren't very good until he got closer. So far, none of the flying opposition had noticed him.

 

~******************************~

 

Vincent saw Yuffie and the others take off and he chose to join them, reasoning that his extra firepower would help cut down on the air opposition. As he kicked his hoverboard into gear and prepared to follow, he heard Tifa shouting something to his left. He looked in her direction and saw the fear in her wide brown eyes as she rushed towards him and he realized she was warning him. He turned and readied his weapon but before he could aim at the wild-eyed, heavy-built enemy rushing at him, he felt a blinding pain in the right side of his belly and back.

 

Vincent looked down with detached surprise to see the cold blue glow of metal piercing his torso. The Deepground operative had impaled him with some sort of Mako-enhanced spear. The sheer force of the blow and the enhancement were what allowed it to pierce his body armor. His fingers were already tingling with numbness as he began to raise Cerberus to shoot his attacker. Blood welled in his mouth and trickled down into his mask as his vision blurred.

 

Tifa threw herself at the man that had speared her friend, aiming a flying kick at his head. The Deepground operative turned to look just in time to see the sole of her shoe coming at him and he had no time to dodge the attack. He dropped the spear impaling the gunman and staggered dazedly. Tifa didn't give him a chance to recover from her attack. She laid into him with everything she had and screamed for Cloud and Barret as Vincent began to collapse.

 

~*********************************~

 

Barret heard the barmaid's desperate shouts first, as he was closer to her than Cloud was. He paused in his shooting and looked over his shoulder in the direction of her voice and his mouth dropped open when he saw that Vincent was run-through and Tifa was fighting the man that had done it. The coal miner quickly transformed his gun back into a biomechanical hand and ran toward his friends, adjusting his headphone set as he did so.

 

“Yo Spiky, Vincent's down!” Barret announced over the channel they shared. In the distance, he heard the roar of Fenrir's engine and he knew the fighter had heard him. He reached Vincent's side and put an arm around him to hold him up, not wanting to risk the spear driving backwards back into his flesh as he fell to the earth.

 

Tifa took a couple of hits that made her cry out but in the end, the barmaid's rage and concern for her comrade lent her the extra strength she needed to defeat her opponent. She knocked the operative's feet out from under him and followed him down, wrapping her thighs around his thick neck and squeezing with all her might. She felt his neck snap and his struggles abruptly ceased. She released him and rolled away, getting to her feet and joining Barret at Vincent's side.

 

“Can't pull it out from the front,” Barret said to her with a nod at the spear's head, which was hanging out the gunman's back. “It's barbed and it'll tear him up more if we try!”

 

Cloud was speeding toward them but he was forced to swerve as an explosion went off from a hurtled grenade. He clenched his teeth and fought to maintain control over Fenrir as he wobbled. He succeeded in the brief struggle and he made it to the others and dropped the kickstand before hopping off and rushing to help.

 

“Shit,” Cloud swore when he saw how serious it was. There were bits of torn flesh and body armor hanging off the jagged spearhead. “We're going to have to pull this out from the back before we can try to heal him. Do either of you have a Cure materia?”

 

“Mine's cracked,” Tifa said in a shaken voice.

 

“Don't have one,” Barret rumbled. “There weren't enough to go `round.”

 

Cloud swore again. He'd expended the last of his Cure materia's energy earlier that morning and it was dead, now. “Okay, let's work on getting this thing out of him first. I've got a hi-potion left for emergencies and I'll use it on him once we work the spear free.”

 

“How we gonna do this?” Barret asked with a frown. Vincent wasn't making so much as a groan of complaint but he was even paler than normal and his head was drooping as he began to lose consciousness.

 

Cloud thought about it for a moment. “Barret, you hold him up. I'll pull from the back and Tifa can push from the front.”

 

Both of them nodded and Cloud circled quickly around behind their injured friend. They ignored the screams of the dying, the clashing metal and the gunfire around them as they worked to help Vincent. Cloud gripped the shaft of the spear on his side, his gloves helping to keep his hands from slipping on the blood-slick metal. Tifa did the same on her side and waited for the blonde's signal.

 

“On three,” Cloud said, “One…two…three!”

 

He pulled, Tifa pushed, and the Barret braced Vincent. The weapon slid slowly through Vincent's body and out the back. Tifa had to let go when the bottom half of the shaft reached his abdomen and she helped Barret support the gunman while Cloud did the rest himself. The blood flowed rapidly once the spear was out and Cloud tossed it to the ground and helped his friends lower Vincent's body down. The gunman heaved a wet cough from behind his mask and regarded Cloud with dazed, dilated eyes.

 

“It's okay, Vincent,” Cloud muttered as he fumbled through his gear for his remaining potion. “Just hang in there, all right?” He felt the smooth vial against his fingers as he dug through the pouch strapped around his waist and he pulled it out and tore the cork out of it.

 

“I don't think he can drink,” Tifa warned as Vincent coughed up more blood. “Even if he could, we'd have to take his mask off and expose him to the gas.”

 

“I'm not going to make him try,” Cloud assured her. He poured the potion directly into the frightful, open wound and watched anxiously as it closed a little bit. “It's slowed the blood loss but we've got to get him to a medic for real help. Help me get him onto Fenrir.”

 

Vincent finally released a faint groan of pain as they half-carried him to Cloud's bike and helped in onto it in front of the blonde. Cloud ignored the wetness of his friend's blood soaking into his clothes and he started the engine. Without wasting any time, he kicked Fenrir into gear and drove away from the battle as quickly as he could without jarring his injured companion.

 

~*******************************~

 

Zack's first shot hit the rider in the back of his calf instead of the hoverboard. Blood spurted and the man shouted in pain and lost control of his vehicle, spinning to the ground out of control.

 

“Oops,” muttered the black-haired fighter as he watched the hapless victim crash to his death. “Well, I got him and that's what counts.”

 

Of course, the abrupt descent of their comrade alerted the flyers closest to him and they looked behind them and spotted Zack. The expression of alarm on their faces made Zack feel pretty good about himself and his intimidating presence. When a shot rang out from somewhere behind him and one of the alarmed opponents got hit, he realized someone on his team was behind him and his opponents weren't as impressed with him as he'd thought. He risked a glance over his shoulder and saw about a dozen WRO operatives on hoverboards, with Yuffie Kisaragi in the lead.

 

Zack shrugged with good humor as his ego deflated and he shot again as one of the winged enemies spun in the air and came at him. His first shot missed entirely and ended up glancing off another Deepground soldier's hoverboard, making it wobble but not disabling it. His second shot actually hit the target but not where he intended. It struck the shoulder guard instead, knocking it askew but doing no harm to its owner.

 

~Screw it…this thing's not doing me any good.~

 

Zack replaced the gun in its holster and got his sword ready as the enemy wingman closed the distance. More comfortable now that he was wielding his weapon of choice, the sable-haired fighter twisted in the air and slashed at his opponent, knocking aside the metallic claws that the other man tried to hit him with. He whirled and slashed with lightning speed and he was impressed when his opponent blocked his attacks with the claw weapons. The sky and ground spun crazily as the two of them wheeled through the air and fought. A bullet streaked past Zack's leg and glanced off the Barrier shield he'd erected around his body. He growled, realizing some of his opponent's allies were breaking away from the group to join him.

 

Yuffie's group quickly evened the odds with a hail of return gunfire and Yuffie threw a large, circular blade, taking someone's head off. Zack saw the decapitated head drop past him from the corner of his eye and he silently applauded the ninja's skill. He briefly saw her draw her customary, oversized shuriken next and he was glad she carried extra throwing weapons.

 

His concerns for Yuffie's situation distracted him enough for his opponent to get past his guard and Zack would have suffered a nasty cut if it weren't for the barrier still protecting him. Giving himself a mental kick and bemoaning his instinctive urge to protect females, Zack retaliated with gusto. The ground was rushing closer and closer and it occurred to him for the first time that he and his enemy were in peril of meeting a crushing end together.

 

Deciding he was better off pulling himself out of danger before continuing the fight, Zack spread his wings all the way out and caught the air currents, angling back up and flapping to gain altitude faster. Unfortunately for his opponent, he was the only one of the two of them that had realized the danger. Zack cringed as the other winged man failed to pull up in time and crashed to the ground hard enough to carve a groove in the snowy earth. The black-haired fighter stopped climbing and hovered for a moment, staring down at the sprawled, broken figure below. The claw-wielder wasn't moving.

 

Zack heaved a sigh of disappointment and looked up to get his bearings again. Yuffie and her companions were in a full-fledged battle against some of the Deepground flying troops, while the rest of the enemy air teams had broken away and were going after the alliance aircrafts. Zack himself seemed to have been forgotten in the fray and he snorted, half-offended that none of them had come after him.

 

His annoyance only lasted as long as it took him to spot one of the ShinRa choppers being swarmed by several enemy flyers. One of the occupants—the copilot—had opened his door and he was leaning out and shooting at the enemies that were trying to sabotage the craft. Zack caught a glimpse of a pair of shades and a bald, light brown head and he realized it whose chopper it was. He flew toward it as quickly as he could to help, hoping that this time, the chopper wouldn't end up going down.

 

~***************************************~

 

“Yo, I've seen birds bring down choppers and airships before but this is ridiculous!” Reno hollered as he did his best to shake the pesky attackers off of his chopper. “Get these pigeons off our ride, partner!”

 

“What do you think I'm trying to do?” Rude grunted, but his response was lost in the noise of the wind and rotaries. He got one of the attackers in the throat before they could tear some wires loose from the front of the helicopter. He allowed himself a little smirk of victory as his victim fell free of the chopper, but there were six more Deepground operatives still clinging to, slashing at or shooting at the aircraft.

 

Reno grabbed hold of his targeting control stick and snarled at the closest face peering in at him from the front windshield. “Ya picked the wrong spot to perch, shithead.” The machine gun on his side rotated and angled up with his guidance, pointing right at the enemy. Reno bared his teeth in a feral smile as he pressed the trigger button to shoot a short, quick burst of bullets at his target. Blood sprayed over the window and the redhead clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in annoyance. Now he couldn't see through his side of the window.

 

Reno turned on the wiper blades and grimaced a little as the gory mess smeared. A bullet hole appeared at the top of the pilot-side door's window and Reno cursed and hunkered down. Rude could only lean out and twist so much without undoing his safety harness and with all the chaos happening around them, he couldn't risk it. Reno twisted in his seat and looked for the source of the bullet hole. He spotted a winged Deepground fighter inching along the side of the chopper. She was holding on with one hand and aiming right at him with her gun while using the front landing wheel as a foothold, ready to fire another shot.

 

Reno abruptly yanked the handle of his door and pulled it open. He twisted in his seat nimbly and kicked the woman in the face several times. As tough as she was due to Mako enhancements, the blows were enough to daze her and make her drop her weapon. Without hesitation, Reno yanked his gun out of the confines of his blazer and shot her right between the eyes. She fell off and as she spiraled limply down and he pulled himself back in and slammed the door shut. Rude was still leaning out his door and shooting at any attackers that dared to move within his visual range. He shook his head after a moment and leaned back in, slamming his door shut.

 

“Doesn't look good,” Rude announced.

 

Reno cursed in frustration and started to consider trying to land the helicopter before the Deepground rats still tearing into it did enough damage to make them crash. He turned to face the front and pushed the wiper fluid button to help the blades clear up his side of the window. No sooner did he do that than there was a flurry of unexpected movement and a heavy thump as something landed on the nose of the chopper. A very fine, very familiar ass clad in deep blue combat pants pressed against the window right in front of Reno's face. The Turk stared stupidly for a moment, wondering why Zack Fair's tight butt was polishing his window. The black-haired fighter rolled away while both Turks gaped with surprise, his wings slapping against the metal surface of the chopper's nose, and the answer was suddenly made clear.

 

Zack was grappling with one of the winged Deepground fighters, right there in front of the window. The former Soldier was struggling to keep the other man from using his own sword against him and Reno was just about to open his door again to help when Zack head-butted his opponent. Another spray of blood painted the window as the fighter reclaimed his sword and slashed open his enemy's chest with a violent swing. He followed up with a thrust and stabbed the other man through the heart, before heaving him off the chopper.

 

Zack rolled onto his stomach and looked through the window at Reno. “You take out the hovering ones while I knock these vultures off, okay?” the fighter yelled.

 

“What?” Reno shouted back, lifting the headphones from his ears and shaking his head.

 

Zack motioned out to the left, pointing at the Deepground fighters that were pacing the chopper on their hoverboards and trying to shoot at it. He made a shooting gesture at them with his fingers and he pointed at Reno and Rude. He then pointed to himself and his sword and made a wide gesture encompassing the chopper before pointing at his own wings.

 

“I got it,” Rude said. He grabbed his targeting stick and started shooting at the hovering fighters on his side.

 

“Oh yeah,” Reno muttered, quickly following his example. Zack rolled again as a bullet ricocheted off the nose of the chopper and narrowly missed him. Reno felt a flash of concern for him but when he saw that he was okay, he shooed at the winged fighter with annoyance.

 

“You're blockin' my view, Wolfy!” hollered the redhead.

 

Zack didn't hear his words of course, but the fighter had already picked out a target out of Reno's line of sight and pulled himself along and swung over the side of the aircraft on Rude's side. Both Turks breathed a little easier, now that they had someone knocking off their would-be saboteurs.

 

~*******************************~

 

Reeve went about three shades of white when he saw Cloud Strife driving into the rest camp with his pale, limp lover seated in front of him. The engineer rushed to Fenrir as soon as it pulled to a stop, shouting for medics and guards.

 

“One of them got lucky,” Cloud grunted as he helped them get Vincent off of the motorcycle. He dismounted afterwards and hurried behind them with Reeve as they carried his stricken friend straight into one of the medical tents.

 

“Does anyone have a Curaga spell available?” Reeve shouted, trying to keep calm. He had a horrible feeling he already knew the answer to that. His people had expended most of the healing materia available to them already and there wouldn't be more at their disposal until they could get turbo ether brought in for recharging or fresh materia. Since materia was no longer being artificially manufactured, it wasn't in great supply.

 

“Sir, we're still waiting for the supply route to bring in ethers,” explained one of the medics nervously. “We'll have to do the best we can with conventional medicine.”

 

Reeve went to Vincent's side as he was laid carefully on a cot. Two medics worked over the gunman, removing his maskunfastening his body armor as quickly as they could to treat him.

 

“Vincent, do you hear me?” Reeve called to his lover in a tight voice.

 

The sooty lashes fluttered and Vincent's garnet eyes attempted to focus on him.

 

“He's losing too much blood, too fast,” one of the doctors said. “Someone get him started on an IV infusion, now! Sir, what type is he?”

 

“Type A,” answered Reeve quickly. He brushed Vincent's glossy black hair away from his clammy forehead and tried to hold his attention. “Vincent, listen to me…I want you to stay focused.” His eyes went to the wound when the medics bared his torso and Reeve swallowed hard.

 

~That's a very bad injury. A normal man wouldn't survive it. I'm not even certain Vincent can, in his current form!~

 

The engineer began to panic and he cupped Vincent's waxen face as the gunman's eyes fluttered shut again. “VINCENT! You have to stay awake, do you hear me?” He shook him gently and the bloodied lips parted on a gasp.

 

“He should change forms,” Cloud said from behind him, his voice only a little steadier than Reeve's.

 

The WRO leader knew his younger friend was right. Vincent's best change of survival was to allow one of his demons to come out. The transition would heal most of the damage, but the downside was that Vincent couldn't control what his demons did when they took hold of him and they could very well run back out onto the battlefield and get him killed for good, or hurt people on his own side.

 

“Tranquilizers,” Reeve gasped. “Someone get a tranq rifle in here NOW!”

 

“Sir?” one of the guards asked in confusion.

 

“Just fucking DO IT!”

 

They didn't argue with him, having never seen Reeve this agitated before. It only took a couple of moments to find someone equipped with the requested weapon but Vincent's breath faltered in that short time.

 

“Vincent,” Reeve said in an intense tone. “I want you to let one of your demons out now, before it's too late. I don't care which one…we'll handle it. Do you hear me?”

 

Vincent's gaze sharpened for a moment and looked up at Reeve. The expression on his pale features said he didn't want to comply and the engineer brought his face close to the gunman's and snarled; “Shift, damn you! Do it!”

 

If the order didn't reach Vincent, the urgency in Reeve's voice did. The crimson eyes lit up from within and Reeve forced himself to step back as Vincent began to change forms. Some of the medics and guards looked horrified, while others who were more accustomed to Vincent's abilities merely looked wary. The trooper with the tranq gun took careful aim and waited as Vincent's body began to change and grow larger. His face elongated, his hands became claws and dark fur sprouted all over his body. The wound in his stomach closed and his hair grew thicker and wilder, the color bleeding out to white.

 

Cloud was vaguely thankful when the familiar, werewolf-like form of the Galian Beast lay in Vincent's place on the cot. He couldn't be sure the tranquilizers would be enough, but it was better than taking a gamble with Chaos.

 

The Beast lifted its head and looked around with a growl and the guard with the tranquilizers immediately fired two potent darts into Galian's torso. The reflexive, canine yelp wasn't expected by anyone and Reeve's face twisted with guilt. A moment later, the Beast's claw swung out and knocked Cloud right off of his feet, but it seemed to be an uncoordinated, confused reaction to the sting of the darts and the blonde didn't draw his weapon. He picked himself up off the floor and watched the demon warily. The glowing amber eyes regarded him and Reeve with animal recognition before they unfocused and closed.

 

“He's out,” one of the doctors confirmed a moment later when Galian Beast lay still, breathing heavily.

 

Reeve nodded and stroked the demon-creature's hair between the horns rising from his head. “He'll still need blood and medical attention when he returns to his usual form,” the engineer informed them. He didn't care what they thought of his display of affection. His relief was so great that he sank to his knees beside the cot without even realizing it.

 

Cloud stood silently behind him, watching with no small relief of his own. He laid a comforting hand on Reeve's shoulder and squeezed it when he saw the tremor pass through his body.

 

~***************************************~

 

-To be continued