Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Alliance ❯ Chapter 25

“Alliance”

Chapter 25

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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.*

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Rufus woke up in a state of utter confusion. He looked up at the ceiling and lay still for a few moments, gathering his wits and going over recent events in his head to piece together what happened. The last thing he remembered, he and Tseng were in the chopper and a host of new Deepground opposition had risen in the north.

 

~I gave the order for air forces to save the heavy ammunition and concentrate on the flyers. I remember that clearly. Tseng asked to take me back to Icicle and I refused. Then…then I woke up here. Did I pass out? Is there more to the effects of the gas than I thought?~

 

He sat up and grimaced at the dull pain at the base of his skull. Reaching up and back, he pressed against the spot gingerly. It was tender to the touch and a little bit swollen. For a moment, he wondered if they'd hit a bad spot of turbulence and he'd bumped his head…but he couldn't think of any way he could have hit his head in that particular spot…at least not hard enough to make him black out. There was nothing hard behind his head for him to have bumped into.

 

The truth dawned on him as he recalled the disagreements that he and Tseng had been having ever since this strike was organized and the look on the Turk leader's face when he'd refused to go back to Icicle. He knew Tseng didn't want him taking a hands-on role in combat. It wasn't simply the protective instinct of a lover—if it were, the Wutaian would be just as concerned with Reno and Rude fighting on the field. Tseng had the quaint notion that Rufus was the hub of the organization and the glue holding the alliance together. Ever since Rufus had been elevated to the status of VP, the Turk leader watched over him like a hawk and did everything in his power to keep him out of direct conflict.

 

Tseng's loyalty to the organization was as strong as his loyalty to Rufus himself. The president knew without a doubt that his raven-haired lover had orchestrated his mysterious “nap”. He guessed that Tseng used some sort of pressure-point technique to knock him unconscious and then brought him back here, to Icicle.

 

Rufus was livid. His lips pressed together in a grim line and his gray eyes narrowed. He wanted to take an active role in this battle. His reasons weren't simply for a sense of redemption, either. His hated father had started the Deepground project behind his back and Rufus saw his participation in correcting that monumental mistake as the final “fuck you” to him. He looked at the clock and saw that he still had time to join the fight before the light waned and the armies retreated from the field to recuperate.

 

“Well Tseng, you and I are going to have quite a talk when this is over,” Rufus promised aloud. He got out of the bed and walked to the door, intending to procure ground transport and join the battle even if he had to fight with the ground troops. He opened the door and found two ShinRa troops guarding it.

 

“Good afternoon,” Rufus said to them with a suspicious undertone. “Are we in danger of attack or something?”

 

Both of the guards looked uncomfortable. “No Sir,” answered the one on the left, “we're under strict orders to keep you here until the fighting ends for the day.”

 

Rufus lifted a brow. “Is that so? By whose authority?”

 

“Tseng of the Turks,” answered the other guard with an apologetic shrug.

 

“Tseng isn't the president of this organization,” Rufus said firmly. “I am. Stand aside and let me pass.”

 

They shifted nervously but held their ground. “Sir, we can't do that,” the left trooper argued, “We have reason to believe you'll be in unnecessary danger if we comply with that. It's only a couple of hours until sunset. Can't you just humor us until then?” His voice took on a pleading tone.

 

Rufus narrowed his eyes at both of them. Damn Tseng and his reputation! Rufus could understand—even appreciate—the reluctance to go against strict orders from the Wutaian. The troops weren't unjustified in their fear of what Tseng might do to them if they failed to follow his orders and Rufus knew well that in emergency situations, there was a clause that allowed Tseng to go over his head for his own protection.

 

~Oh, how I'm going to make you pay, Tseng.~

 

Knowing that he wasn't going to help the situation by making the guards feel caught between a power struggle, Rufus chose to take matters into his own hands in a more subtle manner. “Very well. I expect reports on our progress within the hour. There will be an inquiry when Tseng returns, so do tell him immediately to report to me the moment he arrives. We'll sort this confusion out ourselves.”

 

Both of the guards visibly relaxed. “Thank you, Mr. President,” the one on the right said with a salute. “You're being very gracious about this.”

 

Rufus smiled but the expression didn't reach his eyes. ~How little you know, my ignorant peon.~

 

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

 

The first order of business was to comb the room for alternative exits. His first logical choice was the windows, though knowing Tseng, they were being watched as well. On the off-chance that the Turk leader had been in too much of a hurry to consider it, Rufus went to the window by the bed and opened it. He stuck his head out and found another guard sitting on the dormer beside it.

 

“Sorry Sir,” the trooper murmured. “Tseng ordered us to keep you in your room and he thought you'd try the windows.”

 

Rufus glared at the man before sticking his head back in and shutting the window. He checked the other windows as well anyhow, because some of them were set into the wall rather than a dormer and unless his troops had decided to fashion a sling to hang from the roof, they couldn't have someone sitting right outside of them. Unfortunately, there was a guard stationed on the ground outside beneath each of these windows.

 

Rufus swore and scanned the ceiling. There was no ventilation system in the Inn but he knew there was an attic. With any luck…there! He saw an access hatch at the far corner of the room, near the dresser. He hurried over to it and grabbed one of the chairs sitting by the small table to use as a stepping stool. He got onto the chair and pushed at the square panel overhead, popping it open and sliding it to one side. With ease he'd never had before, he hopped up and pulled himself into the opening.

 

~I've got no idea how long I have before someone comes to report on the battle. That wasn't a particularly bright demand for me to make, now that I think of it. Ah well, it would have roused suspicion if I hadn't.~

 

He crawled carefully and slowly through the attic, keeping to the support beams and following the closest source of light until he found the small attic window. He opened it with care and peeked out, half expecting it to be guarded as well.

 

It wasn't.

 

Rufus smiled smugly and crawled through the window onto the upper roof. He looked around, keeping an eye out for any troops that might be up there with him. Seeing none, he straightened up and began to explore the rooftop on silent feet. He passed over the guard that was watching his bedside window and he peered down at him and resisted the urge to find a pinecone or something and throw it at him. Instead, he moved on to avoid the risk of the man hearing or sensing him.

 

Rufus grumbled softly to himself. There were guards stationed at every corner of the Inn and the drop to the ground wasn't small. He was confident that he could make it without injuring himself but the building was on a hill, so he'd likely end up rolling down and out of Icicle painfully once he landed. With an angry sigh of defeat, the president made his way back to the attic and down into his room. He shut the attic panel and replaced the chair before going to the door and yanking it open.

 

“I'm hungry,” he said curtly when the troopers looked at him. “Have something brought to me for dinner.” He thought for a moment and added; “I want a bottle of scotch as well.”

 

“Right away, Sir.”

 

Rufus refrained from slamming the door. It wouldn't do for him to have a childish temper tantrum in front of his men. He went to the table and sat down, glaring at the wall and sulking now that he had the privacy to do so.

 

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

 

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on his door.

 

“Enter,” Rufus called out. He shifted in his chair and threaded his fingers together over the table, putting on an air of dignity and calm for appearances sake.

 

A woman with long, dark hair came into the room. She was wearing a Turk uniform and carrying a tray with a covered dish, eating utensils, a couple of glasses, a single rose in a small glass vase and most importantly, a fifth bottle of aged scotch.

 

“Hello, Mr. President,” she said in a cultured, soft voice. “I've brought you something to eat and if you'd like, I'll give you a report on the status of our armies.”

 

Rufus was slightly pacified that they'd sent an attractive lady Turk to see to his needs. While he didn't desire women sexually, he appreciated the company of an elegant female from time to time. There was something soothing about it—even if said female was capable of killing with her bare hands if the situation called for it. He stood up politely and gestured for her to come in.

 

“Please, join me,” he offered as she approached and set the tray on the table. He held her chair out for her and she looked faintly flattered by the gesture as she sat down in it. Rufus took his seat and turned one of the glasses right side up before examining the bottle of scotch with a critical eye.

 

“Not a bad year,” he murmured. “It will do.” He poured himself a glass and glanced at his guest. “Care for a glass, Miss…?” He hadn't met this particular Turk before and he had no idea what name she went under.

 

“Illiyana,” the Turk supplied with a soft smile. “And no thank you, Sir. I never indulge on the job.”

 

Rufus smirked ruefully and took a sip of the liquor, tasting it for a moment before swallowing and appreciating the warmth as it went down his esophagus. “Ordinarily I wouldn't either, but…well.” He spread his hands.

 

“Yes,” she nodded, her hazel eyes softening with guilt. “I'm very sorry about this, Mr. President.”

 

He waved it away. “You aren't to blame and I certainly can't expect you to go against the orders of your superior…even if I do provide his paycheck.”

 

She hid a smile and covertly studied him. She hadn't met him up close before but now that she had, the thought of fulfilling another possible need of his was quite appealing.

 

~Handsome, charming, intelligent, rich, powerful and un-afraid to get his hands dirty. How is this man still single?~

 

She got her answer a moment later when she gathered the nerve to tell him the other purpose she was sent in for. “Sir, I don't know how to say this delicately. If you desire some companionship when I've finished giving my report, I can…provide that to you.”

 

Rufus came very close to repeating Cloud's actions in his office that day that Zackary Fair mentioned his resemblance to Director Lazard. With great effort, he avoided spitting the mouthful of scotch he'd just taken all over the place. He swallowed carefully, trying not to choke on it.

 

“I…see. I'm quite flattered,” he knew that this woman was new to the Turks and was probably ignorant of the quiet, common knowledge that he was gay. He chose his words carefully, not wanting to embarrass her. “If I desired female company that way, I would most certainly take your offer,” he finished.

 

She looked slightly annoyed and wholly uncomfortable and Rufus understood what had probably happened. “Someone told you to offer, didn't they?” he guessed.

 

“I…forgive me, President Shinra,” she said, blushing faintly. “I had no idea and yes, I was told by a higher-ranking Turk to offer.”

 

“Well, tell me this person's name,” Rufus insisted. “If he or she has the time to pull pranks on newer members—not to mention engage in sexual harassment—something should be done to remedy that.”

 

Illiyana's smile reached her eyes. “Trevor, Sir. His name is Trevor and he's the commanding operative to our team here in town.”

 

“Trevor,” Rufus repeated, recognizing the name. He smiled at her. “Well, I'll make certain that he has something more productive to do until Tseng can deal with this personally. Are you sure you wouldn't like a drink?”

 

“Actually, a small one wouldn't hurt,” she agreed, still smiling.

 

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

 

Illiyana gave her report while the president ate and she politely declined when he offered some of his meal to her. Inwardly she was thinking it was a pity that he didn't go for women and though she knew what he was capable of, he impressed her as quite the gentleman. She was a little concerned with how quickly he was going through his bottle of liquor but since he was securely under guard, she didn't say anything. The man's pride was bruised and she thought he had every right to get drunk if he wanted to.

 

“So, everyone's calling him `General Strife' now, are they?” Rufus said when the report was finished, his lip curving into a delicate smile of amusement. “I wonder what he thinks of that. Well, thank you for your time, Illiyana. Do tell your superior that he's now on slaughter duty. Perhaps providing our armies with the meat from the livestock will keep him more occupied. Oh, and when he's finished with that, he's to help with laundry duty as well.”

 

“Yes, Sir,” she said with a soft chuckle. “If there's anything more I can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask.”

 

He was buzzing enough that he almost asked her to help him escape, but he had enough common sense left to realize she wasn't quite that charmed, yet. “Of course. You may go now, Illiyana.”

 

She took her leave and when she was gone, Rufus considered the half-empty bottle of scotch and shrugged.

 

“To hell with it,” he murmured. He picked up the bottle and drank straight out of it.

 

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

 

By the time he'd polished off all but a fourth of the scotch, Rufus was more than a little tipsy and more determined than ever to get a few shots at the enemy. He peered blearily at his watch and looked out the window, estimating that if he got away now, he'd have at least an hour of fighting to look forward to. They'd taken his guns from him when Tseng brought him to the Inn but if he got away he could liberate some weapons and a vehicle from the supply tents just outside of town. He set his bottle down on the table and stood up to drag his chair under the access panel to the attic.

 

At one point while crawling to the window leading out to the roof, he almost lost his balance and rolled off of the support beam he was moving on. He snorted with amusement at the thought of the looks on people's faces if he were to crash through the ceiling into someone's room or the lobby. Telling himself to keep his mind on business, the president continued crawling along until he made it to the window. He opened it and climbed out. When he stood up he staggered a little and he came close to tumbling right over the edge of the roof. He caught himself in time and shut the attic window a little too loudly.

 

“Shhh,” he hissed at the shutter with a glare.

 

He started across the roof, not quite as stealthily as before but still more quietly than another man in his state would have been able to do. He closed one eye to focus his vision better and he looked around, swaying slightly as he sought out an escape route.

 

There was a tall evergreen tree with heavy branches a few feet away from the edge of the roof. Rufus looked down and to either side, checking to see if there were any guards within visual distance. There was one on the ground at the right corner of the building but he was pretty far away and he looked like he was nodding off.

 

Rufus smirked and considered the tree. With his new dexterity, he could surely leap into it if he got a running start. From there he could climb down to the ground and be off before anyone noticed he was gone.

 

Had he been sober he would have questioned his judgment, but at the moment the president was feeling rather invincible and cocky.

 

“Keep me locked up, will you?” Rufus muttered as he took a few steps back and calculated. “I've escaped worshe…worse.”

 

He took a deep breath and ran, the long muscles of his legs allowing him to pick up speed quickly. He leaped when he reached the edge of the roof and he arched through the air toward the tree with grace that he was sure the squirrels would envy. His aim was true, but as he plunged through the foliage of the tree the pine needles slapped his face painfully and he was forced to shut his eyes to protect them. He hit the trunk with enough force to make him grunt, but not hard enough to do major damage.

 

Unfortunately, he began to fall immediately. The rough bark scraped over his skin and snagged at his clothes. Rufus instinctively scrabbled for purchase and it was then that he realized something he hadn't considered.

 

~Bloody hell…the tail didn't come with a set of claws.~

 

He frantically grabbed at the branches, wincing as his bottom landed against a smaller one and snapped it. If he didn't stop his descent soon, he was bound to suffer serious injury or death and even if that didn't happen, the noise of the snapping branches would surely alert the guards. Somehow his struggles ended up twisting him so that he was facing away from the trunk, which would make it even harder to catch himself. Rufus cursed and kept trying but what stopped his fall in the end was his coat.

 

He came to a slow stop, suspended by the branches that had gotten caught under his coat from behind. He was quite literally stuck, hanging there by his long coat like a cat by the scruff of its neck. Fortunately it wasn't choking him…the sleeves prevented that. Dazed and confused, he flapped his arms clumsily and looked around with blurred vision.

 

“I'm stuck,” Rufus mumbled. He heard someone moving below and he held still and kept his mouth shut, fearing discovery more than falling.

 

“Probably just some squirrels,” a female voice said below. Thankfully the pine foliage was thick enough to conceal Rufus from their point of view.

 

“Yeah, I guess you're right,” agreed a male voice. Two sets of footsteps crunched away in the snow.

 

Rufus heaved a sigh and tried to pull his thoughts together to free himself from the tangle. The limbs that were supporting him creaked dangerously as he moved and he stopped, having enough sense to realize his danger. If he struggled too hard the branches would break and if he slipped out of his coat the result would be the same. Either way, he'd end up crashing to the ground.

 

“Dammit,” the president grumbled. His head was buzzing pleasantly and despite the chill in the air, he was really quite comfortable. His eyes drifted shut and he decided he'd figure out how to get down after a nap.

 

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

 

Cloud was just getting ready to go back out onto the field when a WRO operative hurried over to him with an anxious look on his face.

 

“General Strife,” the young man called out.

 

Cloud stopped and stared at him, shocked by the title he'd used. “General?” He mouthed.

 

“Director Tuesti is missing,” the WRO said when he reached him.

 

Cloud furrowed his brows. “What do you mean, `missing'? He was in the tent with Vincent just a minute ago.”

 

“I know,” the other man nodded. “But when we came in to start Valentine on a blood transfusion, Reeve was gone. We looked for him all over the camp but we couldn't find him and what's worse, one of the snowmobiles and the trailer carrying an experimental weapon was gone too.”

 

Cloud felt dread sink into his very bones. “What kind of experimental weapon?”

 

“It's a sort of mini-cannon,” explained the WRO. “It runs on its own electric power source and he was going to send someone out to test it in battle. General, I think Director Tuesti's gone off the deep end. I'm afraid he's going to try testing that thing himself.”

 

Cloud ignored the odd way the man kept calling him “General” and focused on the problem at hand. He looked out over the snow and spotted a trail leading away from the encampment that looked like it was made by a pair of skis.

 

“I'll find him,” Cloud promised. “Just keep an eye on Vincent and if you can, have him transported back to Icicle.”

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

Cloud hurried to Fenrir and started the engine. He kicked the bike into gear and began following the trail left behind by the snowmobile. As he tracked Reeve, he tuned his comm. unit to the frequency that the air-strike teams were using.

 

“Guys, I know you're busy up there but I need you to keep an eye out for Reeve,” he announced. “Vincent got hurt and I think Reeve's taken it into his head to give Deepground some payback with his own hands.”

 

“Affirmative, Cloud,” Tseng responded. “I'll search for him immediately. The others are too heavily engaged in combat to respond at the moment.”

 

Cloud looked up at the sky and found himself torn between concern for Reeve and concern for his airborne allies. Reno's chopper in particular was under heavy attack from the flying opposition, but Cloud could see Zack clinging to the side of the aircraft and dispatching the ones that were trying to sabotage it, while Rude and Reno fired the chopper's guns at the enemies hovering around it. Cid's airship was likewise being assaulted but Cloud knew the pilot kept a crew of formidable fighters on board and he could see enemies falling to their death from the Shera. The other choppers and the two other airships were assisting as well as they could, but they were also under attack.

 

~I have to trust them all to take care of themselves. Reeve isn't cut out for direct combat and I've got to get to him before he gets himself killed.~

 

Cloud forced himself to tear his eyes off of the sky and focus on the trail. At least if Tseng found him first he'd be able to see what he was up to and give coordinates.

 

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

 

He worked out to keep his body toned and fit, but he wasn't a fighter. He was a decent shot with a gun, but he wasn't a marksman. He was intelligent and clever, but he wasn't a scientist. No, Reeve Tuesti was none of these things but he was most definitely a man in love. He even loved Vincent's demons, because they were part of him. Someone had nearly taken them all from Reeve and the engineer meant to prove what a horrible mistake that was.

 

The monkey clinging to the engineer's back was fussing with alarm and he was certain that if the mechanical creature could speak, it would be telling him to go back now before it was too late. He hadn't meant to take him but he'd been using Monkeyshines to comfort the sick, injured and dying…much the way hospitals sometimes brought cats and dogs in to soothe patients. If he'd taken time to think about it, Reeve would have de-activated him and placed him with Cait Sith, but his mind was bent on revenge and the bionic simian had jumped onto his back when it spotted him leaving on the snowmobile.

 

“If you don't shut up, I'll shut you off,” Reeve warned over his shoulder. “You can either help or be quiet. It's your choice.”

 

Monkeyshines chose to be quiet. Reeve nodded in satisfaction and slowed the vehicle to a stop, dismounting quickly and looking up at the skies as he hurried to the trailer attached to the snowmobile. He unhooked the elastic ropes holding the canvas over his weapon and pulled the cover off. Once it was out of the way, he climbed onto the trailer and got in position at the control panel of the cannon. It resembled the old Junon Mako cannon except for its drastically smaller size. He'd designed it with a moving platform for the operator to power it up, aim and fire.

 

Whether it would work or blow him and his monkey to smithereens was something he was about to find out. He'd tested it on an empty field before but he'd made some adjustments since then because he hadn't been satisfied with the force of the energy blasts it produced. Shrugging, he pumped the primer handle a few times to activate it and he waited for it to power up. There was a smell of ozone in the air and the hairs on his arms stood up as the electricity built. He heard Cloud's motorcycle approaching from the distance but he didn't pause his work.

 

The cannon finished powering up and Reeve searched the skies for a group of enemies to fire it on. He found one cluster of them that were far enough away from Yuffie's team and the alliance aircrafts. Some were winged and some were on hoverboards. All of them were dropping grenades on and shooting at the ground forces of the WRO and ShinRa.

 

Reeve moved the weapon into position and took aim with it. Monkeyshines squeaked nervously but he paid no attention to the animal and pulled the trigger mechanism. A single ball of glowing white energy fired from the barrel of the weapon and streaked across the sky toward his targets. Reeve watched and waited to see what would happen before taking aim again.

 

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

 

Zack came up behind a winged Deepground operative who was too busy trying to cut through some wires near the tail of the chopper to notice him coming. He tapped the man on the shoulder and he turned around to stare at him with startled, neon-green eyes.

 

“How's it going?” Zack asked. He gave his opponent a moment to react—for fairness' sake. As soon as the enemy lunged for him, Zack punched him hard in the face and followed up with a knee-kick to his solar plexus. While he was dazed, the black-haired fighter chucked him off the side of the chopper. He expected the enemy operative to recover and come back for him but once he lost his grip he hurtled backwards and ended up colliding with the tail rotaries.

 

Zack made a face as the enemy's scream was abruptly silenced and the man's limp body fell behind, streaking blood through the sky in its wake.

 

“Oops.”

 

Imagining himself coming to the same unpleasant end if he got too close to the tail, Zack moved back toward the front to go around to the other side and clear off the enemies there. He was getting frustrated with the way things kept turning out. There he was, trying to give them a chance to fight back, and somehow his opponents still kept ending up dead before he could get a good fight out of them. The only ones that had put up a decent fight were the first one that had crashed into the ground and the one he'd grappled with on the nose of the chopper.

 

~Maybe I just keep getting the ones that haven't had a lot of training yet. I know a lot of these poor saps used to be regular civilians. Shit, now I feel worse.~

 

He didn't get the chance to contemplate further on his theory, because there was a bright explosion of energy in the sky to the north, over the main force of ground combatants. Zack narrowed his eyes against the glare and swore in surprise.

 

“Whoa! Where the hell did that come from?” He reached the cabin door and he pulled it open with a grunt of effort and swung in, closing it behind him. Reno and Rude had stopped firing to stare at the spectacle as well and when the redhead heard Zack come in, he turned in his seat to peer through the cockpit opening at him.

 

“Yo, any idea where that came from, Fair?”

 

Zack shook his head. “I don't know but it sure as spit looked like it hit a bunch of those guys that were attacking our guys on the ground!”

 

“I don't think we've got to worry about our chopper anymore,” Rude said. He pointed out the cracked window and his companions followed the gesture with their eyes and saw that their attackers had broken away to search for the source of the blast.

 

“I'm gonna circle her around and see what's up,” Reno said. “Looks like it came from somewhere behind our forces.”

 

There was a crackle over the radio and Tseng's voice spoke. “All air units proceed to the following coordinates.” He rattled off the numbers and continued: “The blast you just witnessed came from a new weapon devised by Director Tuesti. The new objective is to keep enemy flyers from reaching it.”

 

“So that came from Reeve?” Zack said with surprise. “Man, that guy's got more tricks up his sleeve than a magician at a stage show!”

 

Reno saw that their attackers weren't the only ones in the enemy ranks that had noticed the blast. The other flyers were breaking away from the aircrafts they were assaulting, too.

 

“Reeve wouldn't be down there,” Rude said. “He probably sent it our on the field with troops.”

 

Of course, none of them had heard about Vincent's injury or Rude wouldn't be so quick to assume Reeve didn't fire the weapon himself.

 

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

 

“Reeve, what are you doing?” Cloud pulled Fenrir to a reckless stop and shouted up at him. Of course he knew what he was “doing”. He'd seen the blast and it had taken out a lot of enemies with one hit. The question was more rhetorical than literal.

 

“I'm blowing things up,” answered the engineer calmly as he swung the cannon to aim again.

 

Cloud looked up at the sky and groaned. That one blast might have taken out a chunk of the air opposition, but it also alerted the rest of them and they were coming to deal with the new threat. “Congratulations,” the blonde snapped. “You've gotten their attention.”

 

“Good,” replied the older man with narrowed eyes. “I want them to see it coming.”

 

“They're going to be all over you!” Cloud shouted.

 

“Then you'll have to keep them off,” reasoned the engineer with a look over his shoulder at the blonde. “We can end this thing tonight, if I can get off enough shots at them. You saw how many that last explosion took out.”

 

Cloud sighed and opened Fenrir's weapon compartments to arm himself appropriately. He saw that the alliance air units were turning around to go after the approaching flyers and Yuffie's team was also chasing after them. It gave him some comfort to know that he wouldn't be trying to defend Reeve all by himself, but he was sure he'd have to unleash a few of his most powerful sword techniques anyhow.

 

As an afterthought, the blonde took a gun out of the weapons compartment and loaded it. Like Zack, he was specialized in swords and while he could use many other melee weapons with skill, most firearms felt awkward to him. He was more familiar with rifles; both as a person that hunted from time to time and as a former infantryman in the ShinRa military. Unfortunately the handgun was the only firearm he had with him.

 

“Reeve, do you have any other weapons on you if they get too close?” Cloud asked.

 

The engineer gave him an incredulous look. “Of course, Cloud. I haven't survived so many assassination attempts by wandering around unarmed.”

 

“Good. Just be ready to use them.”

 

“I'm prepared to do that,” assured the older man.

 

Reeve powered up the cannon again and Cloud waited nearby with one hand on the hilt of his Tsurugi and the other holding a pistol. The energy level spiked and Monkeyshines covered his eyes with his paws while Reeve fired up at the closest group of airborne enemies in range. The engineer squinted against the flash of light as the energy ball exploded and blew them out of the sky. The concussive wave from the blast hit some of the opposing forces behind them and it made a couple of hoverboard flyers lose control and spiral to the ground. Even Tseng's chopper rocked a bit as the end of the ripple reached it.

 

“Don't shoot that thing at the flyers anymore,” Cloud ordered, “they're getting too close and our guys are right behind them! Start firing at the ground forces further away while we take care of the air threat.”

 

“Agreed.” Reeve turned the cannon and powered it up again. He knew now that the weapon had enough range to hit the back enemy ranks without catching any of his own people in the blast. As the cannon was powering up, he heard Cloud shooting and he looked up to see one of the enemies swooping toward him on a hoverboard. Reeve smoothly reached into his long jacket, withdrew an odd-looking gun with a large barrel and fired it at the enemy. Instead of bullets, the weapon's ammunition was a thumb-sized capsule that broke open as it fired.

 

The enemy flyer tried to avoid the net that webbed out but his momentum was too great and he was entangled quickly. He fell to the ground and Cloud finished him off with a couple of shots.

 

“Full of surprises,” Cloud grunted at his friend with a smirk.

 

“I wouldn't be alive otherwise,” Reeve shrugged. He turned his attention back to the cannon and the enemy masses on the ground in the distance. “This one's for you, Vincent,” he whispered as he fired.

 

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

 

Tseng didn't know if he was more impressed by the blasts from Reeve's cannon or the sight of Cloud Strife leaping straight up into the air and producing a hail of small meteors from out of nowhere to strike a group of flyers and take them down. He and his copilot rained bullets on the evasive Deepground operatives that were closest to them and a larger blast to the east told him that one of the airships was doing the same. Cid Highwind's hoot of victory broke through the transmission and confirmed it had come from the Shera.

 

The Wutaian glanced to the west and did a double take. One of the helicopters was in a steep dive and doing corkscrew loops. At first he thought it was out of control but the fact that it was still shooting and taking down opposition made him realize that it must be Reno's chopper.

 

“I didn't know our helicopters could do that!” Tseng's awed copilot said.

 

“They can't,” the Wutaian clarified, but then he amended, “Or rather, they shouldn't. Certain reckless pilots seem to find loopholes in the rules of gravity and vehicle capabilities, though.”

 

Inside of Reno's chopper, poor Zack was thrown all over the place and getting more bruises than he'd suffered from in his fights with the enemy. Reno stopped his spin and pulled back up and Zack dragged himself off the floor of the cabin.

 

“You okay back there, Wolfy?” the redhead hollered. “Thought I heard you yelp a couple times.”

 

“That's it, I want off,” Zack growled.

 

Reno glanced over his shoulder at him and frowned. “What the hell are ya doing out of your seat? I told you to buckle up, man.”

 

“You didn't tell me you were going to spin like that,” Zack accused as he gingerly touched his swelling eye. Oh yeah, he was going to have a shiner for sure.

 

Reno winced when he saw the developing bruise over Zack's left eye. “Well, when I tell ya to buckle up, you're supposed to do it right away. Everybody knows that, yo.”

 

“Urk,” Rude grunted. He'd meant to say something in agreement but his stomach heaved instead and he ended up reaching for the airsickness bag under his seat.

 

“Just the same, wait `till I'm outta here to do that again,” Zack warned. He pulled open the door and jumped out of the chopper without waiting for a reply.

 

Reno sighed and looked at his partner. Rude looked like he wished Zack had taken him with him. The bald man was taking deep breaths and holding his puke bag ready.

 

“Guess I overdid it that time,” Reno muttered. For Rude's sake, he didn't try any further stunts. The larger man hadn't complained but he got sick despite his attempts to hold it back and Reno felt bad about putting him and Zack through that.

 

Now flying a more standardized course, Reno fired on the enemy until his partner recovered from his motion sickness.

 

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

 

On top of a Cliff and safely out of range, Genesis watched as the alliance army's new weapon decimated the Deepground ranks. He blinked back an attack of dizziness and glanced down at the claw mark on his left arm. It was the only wound he'd suffered in the confrontation but it was common practice for some Deepground fighters to taint their weapons with poisons. Genesis shrugged his jacket off of his left shoulder and examined the wound through the open tears on his shirt. The skin was an angry red around the cuts, but it looked better than it did a couple of hours ago and he'd stopped blacking out.

 

He wondered if the bald Turk was still alive and if he was, when he'd have another moment alone. It was obvious that Weiss's army wasn't going to last more than another day and once he found out how quickly they were losing, he'd probably try to escape.

 

“No more running, brother,” Genesis murmured into the cold wind. He sank to his knees and scooped up a handful of snow to rub over his heated forehead. He wanted to be sick but he refused to allow his stomach the courtesy of emptying it all over the ground. Instead, he sat down and put his back against a tree, watching the distant battle with hazy blue eyes as he waited for the dizzy spell to end.

 

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

 

-To be continued