*SeaLion Blues* (part 1)
A little AU, FF7 fic for Zack, because he deserves one.
Opening Notes:
-I am taking extreme liberties with the time line, so there. :-P
//…// for thoughts. Standard disclaimers apply.
*********************
"There's been a bit of an incident at Kobani Bay…"
"Kobani?"
"A little nothing inlet down on the south coast of Wutai… It was under lease from the Wutai government by our benevolent corporation… seems there's been… a bit of fuss raised. The natives of the region inexplicably became incensed about something and…"
Sephiroth gave up looking at the gloomy Midgar skyline in order to pay more attention to the barrel shaped man with a beard. Outside, the sun made a valiant attempt to pierce the dull haze perpetually blanketing the city but within, everything was plush leather and chrome décor. Heidigger's office was mammoth, everything composed of tall imposing lines except the man himself. Of all the things in the room, its owner was singularly out of place.
// … Compensating for something, I wonder. //
"… and…?" His chair was too soft and felt rather like it was going to swallow him in its leather embrace. Its useless spongy padding reminded him of his conversation partner.
"Well somehow they managed to sink two of our commercial carriers."
"What of the escort cruiser… Aren't they customary for such outposts?"
Heidigger chuckled nervously. "Reports are as yet… unconfirmed… but the escort has also gone missing."
The white-haired man uncrossed his legs, surrendering his lounging attitude to sit upright and stare at his superior with disbelief. "You mean to tell me, that two cargo ships and navy destroyer have been either sunk or captured… and you consider this… 'a bit of an incident' ?"
Bobbing back and forth much like a cork in water, the shaggy general blustered and was unable to meet his visitor's eye. "… Well we still need final reports before we know… what sort of damage…"
The paler general's smile was all wintry amusement. "Three ships missing and you don't. have a clue. Congratulations Heidigger, the President will have your balls nailed to the door for certain, this time."
"Not if the situation gets taken care of quickly…" The barrel-chested man looked decidedly gray. "I mean to take immediate action. A firm stance! Swift justice for our fallen soldiers and miners…" He grimaced at the lack of faith demonstrated by his audience. Sephiroth had slouched back in his overstuffed chair once more, deliberately propping his boots up on the edge of the chrome and glass desk. "Hey! That's brand new!"
"… I noticed." The smile only got colder.
// Now Heidigger… the question is… why are you telling me about your sordid little fuck-up… What possible… //
"Anyway… So. Right. Immediate Action…" The bearded man scooped up some files littered on his desk and jammed them into a large envelope. He thrust it at the seated soldier, handling it like a live grenade with the pin missing. "General, your orders are to restore order to the outpost and determine the cause of this debacle. Shinra must have its ore supplies! This company, no, this City depends on you."
// Typical. Never send a moron to do a man's job. // The younger officer wordlessly accepted the papers.
"You are certain you wouldn't rather go yourself then?" He allowed a little more contempt than usual to seep into his quiet question.
"… Unfortunately I have dut-"
"Spare me the grandstanding, general. I'll clean up your little mess for you." Playing politics was tedious at best, listening to speeches was something he was only willing to suffer through on the company's time, not his own. "It shouldn't take long."
// Now that is interesting… //
Sephiroth's eyes narrowed imperceptibly, taking in the older man's failed attempt to smother a snort of amusement. // Just what have you dumped in my lap, old codger… //
He was used to being tested, challenged, doubted. Less than five years ago he had entered the Shinra military program, skipping directly to a command post and then pulling himself to the top by a calculated mixture of ego, cunning and undeniable skill. General Sephiroth wasn't liked, but he was acknowledged. Neither kind, nor amiable, nor entertaining, he persevered to be untouchable. He would be great, whatever the cost.
Deciding his predecessor had wilted enough under his cutting gaze; he tucked his briefing under his arm and turned to go. Reaching the door he paused well aware of how it would make the man cringe. "By the way Heidigger… prod so much as one of you sausage-link fingers into the SOLDIER program while I'm gone… and I will hear about it… You're not exactly… irreplaceable anymore, are you." His white hair moved in a wave as he turned to look back.
"... yeah, well… if you screw up on this mission, Sephiroth… I'll have you decommissioned! And… Court martialed!"
"… Court marshal… me…? Now general… You really wouldn't want to do that. They're televised after all… You never know, I might just slip under the pressure…"
He smiled again, the expression almost bloodthirsty. "Tell me, Heidigger… that new desk of yours… can still only fit one whore under it? Or is it big enough for two now."
"You… How dare y-"
The bearded man growled uselessly as his reply was met with the firm 'click' of the door shutting. Fuming, he settled behind his desk and smirked at the pages that were still on the blotter.
"… Let's see how the marvelous boy wonder fares without these…" His rumbling chuckle turned into a full-chest laugh.
The folder, marked 'Confidential, Medical, Profile: Lieutenant Colonel Clark' was slipped discretely into a drawer.
"Mavis!" Heidigger thumbed his intercom with a practiced jab.
"Yes general?"
"… Call the restaurant and tell them to move me up an hour… I feel like celebrating…"
"Yes general."
"And then call that tart, Scarlet… and tell her I have some interesting news for her…"
"Yes general." The woman's prim voice always grated him the wrong way but for once he let it go. He was in a good mood.
"White-washed freak… I hope that jungle scum blows your head off…"
*****
The remains of the squad flattened itself in the thick foliage as machinegun fire did its best to mow down anything capable of bleeding, and much that wasn't. Someone screamed in pain and there was frantic rustling as the wounded man was pulled to a safer position. Zack swore heartily at he risked a glance over the rotting log he was using as a blind. There was nothing to see. Their attackers might have well been the trees themselves. Catching the eye of the two men nearest to him, he dispatched cautious scouts to try and flank his invisible opponents. He didn't expect much, but it was better than just sitting on his hands. A small insect was happily chomping on the one portion of his neck not liberally coated with mud and jungle muck. He crushed it with a slap and carefully crawled back to where his commanding officer lay bleeding.
"With all do respect sir… we're fucked."
"Ah… that's the indefatigable Specialists' spirit, hmmm lieutenant?"
"No Major, that's plain common sense. The men are shooting blind, and without our Materia, Hollis and I just don't have any long-range attacks that will get the job done. We need to fall back."
"But they're just rabble. There can't be that many…?" Tired, injured and frustrated, the career officer tried to sit up only to have one of his guards force him back onto his stretcher. "… This is pathetic."
"This is their forest, sir. They have a considerable advantage."
"If only we had Materia… well, I guess that's one good thing… isn't it? We don't have any… but they don't have any either?"
Zack smiled grimly and craned his head to see how his scouts were fairing. He winced as one of the two men was spooked by a sudden burst of gunfire, and jumped into an exposed position.
// Shit, Wally! //
It was of course, exactly what the snipers had been waiting for. The Specialists watched dispassionately as another barrage of fire caught the man square if the torso, making hash of his head and chest. He squinted up into the trees, his familiarity with the bush allowing him to guess more then the rest of the rank and file. Instead of focusing on the spray of blood that had been a promising junior officer, he tracked the frantic rustling of the broken leaves. The bullets had to be coming from somewhere. It wasn't ghosts who had just wiped out half of his squad.
// Damn that raving-lunatic and his paranoia…. Damn him, and his mental instabilities… I should have killed him when I had the chance… When we get back to camp… If we get back to camp… and if the major doesn't take steps… I will. //
Slipping through the prone forms of the waiting soldiers, he appropriated a gun and checked that the clip still had bullets enough to get the job done. Rather than crawling to completely hide himself, he moved in a steady crouch, deliberately teasing, testing his assailants. They did not disappoint. The occasional shot only assisted him in placing a second potential target out in the green. It was dangerous. There was no question his hasty and exposed movements were risky in the extreme, but he wasn't really in the mood to care. He was specialist, he had a reputation of being 'a little crazier than usual' to maintain.
// Besides, this mission was suicide from the start. //
Zack closed his eyes a moment as he leaned against the safe shelter of one of the twisted trees. It took only a moment, a calming breath, and then he was moving. He didn't need to see the enemy to know they were there. They were proud, confident. The snipers probably didn't even think to hide themselves with more than the camouflage they wore. Moving too fast to truly register what he was shooting at, the dark-haired man was only conscious of the feel of his body's headlong flight. He knew his aim was correct, and his speed sufficient, but in his minds eye all he was aware of was a distant paper silhouette being punched through in time to the powerful kick of the gun in his hand. Every shot tore the hole wider. Idly he wondered when the first lucky bullet would find him.
// … gotcha… bastards. Hold still so I can find you… //
First one scream, and then another, and he was still moving, scanning, dodging. There was another target, revealed in a burst of fire. The man was sloppy, angry at his success. He felt a distant sting, knew his arm was bleeding. It was only surface damage. The gun came up again shuddering against his palms as third sniper collapsed. Another flash of gunpowder caught his eye, up and to the left, closer than he cared to admit. This time however, he had backup. Strong hands caught him by the shoulder to redirect his momentum with a quick jerk. He hit the tree hard and cast Hollis a grateful look. The sandy-blond wasn't paying attention, already strafing the treetops where their assailant had been.
"We're sitting ducks."
"You've got that right. We're going back."
"They'll pick us off from behind."
"Better than picking us off as we sit here with our thumbs up our butts."
"… In that case sir, I'll just take rear-guard, shall I?"
Zack grinned wolfishly. "Don't die. You still owe me two hundred gil."
"Yeah and you owe me a case of beer, so what."
"I'll get the others moving." The dark-haired soldier patted his friend and started silently directing the survivors. When the group finally was organized enough to move, their head count was disturbingly low. Carrying their injured any way they could, they marched quickly back through the green maze. The jungle was quiet.
The darker soldier had managed to scavenge a second working weapon, hanging it over his shoulder for safekeeping. The barrel of the gun tapped gently against its twin as he thought mournfully of his sword carefully stashed back in camp. The massive blade would have come in handy - as a shield if nothing else - but was too damn heavy to carry on hikes like this. He winced with every metallic tap, aware of how much noise they were all making.
Seeing that the pathway ahead was opening up into a slightly clearer area, he jogged a little ahead, hoping to flush out anything truly exciting before the bulk of the exhausted squad walked into a trap. Instinct had been correct in timing if not in location. With a whistled burst he felt a wave of heat and light erupt behind him, picking him up like a blown leaf and throwing him forward.
// … Fire2? Shit… //
Scrambling to his feet and coughing against the smoke, he swore at the extent of the damage. // No… no that had to be level 3…//
The few trees at ground zero had been all but incinerated. Ones a little further out were blackened poles, stripped of all branches and vegetation.
// This is insane! //
Only in Wutai would a rebel peasant be able to get their hands on something as ludicrous as a mastered fire Materia. Using the smoke as his ally, he turned back to see if there was anyone, or anything to salvage.
// Come on Holly-boy… Poker-night just won't be the same without you. //
The man had been towards the back, and possibly thrown further back. It was a slim hope but better than contemplating finding his fellow specialist well-cooked.
"…help…me…?"
Zack blinked in surprise and rolled a corpse over to discover the charred but still living body of the squad's ranking officer. Major Mallory was visibly shaking although whether it was from fear or shock was impossible to tell. "I can't believe you survived that."
"Did anyone else…?"
"Doesn't look like it."
"We have to get back to camp… warn them… The colonel will listen… he must… no one is crazy enough to think that we can face this without defenses of our own… we need those Materia…"
The dark haired soldier didn't waste the energy to agree or disagree with the dazed man. His orders had been to assist the squad in surveillance and then return with them to base. The fact that his squad had now been reduced to a team of himself and a seriously commander didn't change anything. He rolled the other bodies away with his foot to inspect the older man's injuries. The major wasn't in good shape, but he wasn't done for by any stretch.
"Right. Let's go, major."
Wincing in pain, the man allowed himself to tossed over a shoulder in an almost caviler fashion. He was heavy, but not heavy enough to slow Zack down. "This is… really irregular."
"Just keep a look-out behind us for sharpshooters. I'm going to see if we can't just out maneuver them."
"I really don't see ho-oooowoah!" The sooty fingers clenched painfully in the soldier's hair as he broke into a trot, and then increased his speed until he was at the fastest lope he could risk. The trail was more defined here, a common path between the mine and the nearest fishing village, but there was still a variety of exposed roots, potholes, and small rocks that he could trip over. A sprained ankle wasn't on his agenda for the afternoon.
// Especially when it would likely be followed promptly by two shots to the head. Stubborn bastards. //
He grinned briefly and tried to shift his wiggling burden higher onto his shoulder. The locals had ample reason to be pissed, more than pissed, as far as he could tell, and he had only been stationed at the camp for six months. There was no telling what sort of insanity had occurred before his arrival. The damage control that his small team of combat specialists had been able to do was simply not enough to appease the angry Wutai clans nearby.
The camp's second in command had been a brief voice of reason. Major Paulo, iron-haired but by no means retired, had gone so far as to meet with the furious chiefs and might have even established a truce. Not that any of them had been able to find out the result of that meeting. The colonel has shot him in the chest shortly after he had returned to camp.
// … Mutiny…? Like hell. He was trying to save the situation… and Fred gone… and the major here is in pieces… shit! //
The thought almost made him stop dead. With his original team leader dead, and the chain of command as shattered at it was, it struck him that not only was he the acting-commander of his three remaining fellow specialists but probably the ranking officer in the camp as well. Zack spared a small prayer that somewhere Hollis was laying low and waiting his chance. Assuming leadership by dint of fatality didn't amuse him much, but loosing direct subordinates through carelessness amused him even less.
// There was nothing I could do… and ten normal troopers to baby-sit… someone had to take point, and someone had to take rear… that's how it works… //
He didn't think he had done anything worthy of court martial yet. That would change of course, provided he survived long enough to get back to camp. Another biting insect tried to make lunch out of him. The dark-haired soldier brought up his free hand to absentmindedly crush it against his shoulder armor.
"… Just like back home…"
"…What was that, lieutenant?"
"If it weren't for the shooting… this place would remind me of Gongaga…" He chuckled between breaths. There was a clearing up ahead and he quickened his pace appropriately. It wasn't far now. They were going to make it.
*****
Even to a jaundiced eye, the view from the edge of the plate was amazing. Sephiroth leaned against the railing on the observation deck of the airfield in Sector 3 and stared west towards the distant ocean. When the wind blew strong it carried some of the smog away from the elevated city, allowing it to feel almost like it was floating among the clouds rather than standing on stilts amidst a cloud of its own flatulence. Like many before him, the general's first distant impression of the industrial city had been of gleaming steel towers rising into the night sky. After years living in it, he rarely found anything appealing about the place at all.
Today was an exception. Steady gusts swept across the tarmac, causing the deck hands to crouch as they walked for fear of being blown over. Their cautious crawling reminded him of little orange crabs making their way over a black sandy beach. Some of the beaches in Wutai were rumored to be black, a leftover geologic curiosity from the island chain's volcanic past. The array of helicopters priming their engines probably didn't help the unsettled breezes, their massive rotors slowly swinging to life, beating the air in heavy harmony. He inhaled quietly, enjoying the fresh scent as his men quietly set about loading cargo into the heavy troop transports. They were easily claiming the bulk of Midgar's air power, but it was easier to acquire resources locally then risk one of Heddiger's minions playing politics with his equipment at the Junon outpost. The former fishing town was in the midst of a building boom, but the airbase was still partly finished at best. Sephiroth much preferred avoiding it all together if he could help it. They would cut east instead, stopping in Mideel and then pushing on over the ocean to reach their final destination. A supply ship would meet them in time to refuel for the long trip home, whenever that was. As many doubts as there were about the veracity of his mission briefing, he couldn't help but feel a little cheerful about the whole thing. It was a beautiful morning, and his men could use the exercise.
// … And hell… it gets me out of this rat-trap of a city for a few weeks… Dealing with a jungle full of bitter militants seems a small price to pay for some fresh air and relative quiet. //
As a boy he had dreamed great dreams, soldier, general, maybe even president. Strangely, the more items he checked off his theoretical wish list, the less desirable he found the whole process. Currently he'd be willing to trade the presidency for a pair of decent earplugs and two additional hours of sleep. It was one of life's many mysteries.
"General, sir?" A solid man saluted stiffly, waiting for him to turn and acknowledge. He did, repressing a sigh of annoyance that the captain didn't deserve.
"Yes Mr. Jain?"
"We're loaded and ready sir." The SOLDIER nodded towards the line of waiting men and to the Gelinka choppers spinning their blades behind them.
"… in that case, we'd better go." If his stiff necked officer noticed his unusually bland reply, he didn't show it. Captain Jain was a professional sort of man, as dependable as a stone while on duty and about as lively. Usually the SOLDIER's taciturn attitude suited him perfectly, even if it was just an act put on for his benefit.
// I wonder what he'd do if I told him to take it down a notch. Some days I swear he's more of a rules-dick than I am… and that just shouldn't be possible. // Smirking at his strange mood, he gestured for the SOLDIER to proceed him, and settled into his own aircraft without further comment. With the sound-damping earphones on the engine noise was almost tolerable, the pilot's voice, tinny-sounding through the small microphone gave him a brief run down on the weather and flight plan. Sephiroth gave the man the confirmation he needed, ok'ed the orders, and then slouched back into his harness. They had seven hours in the air before they hit Mideel and he fully planned to be napping for as many of them as he could bear to. Lifting with a gentle lurch, the helicopters pulled themselves into the sky, circling the mammoth city as they set off for the first leg of their journey.
*****
The hodgepodge pile of barrels mud and canvas that did duty as the camp's outer perimeter gave him energy he didn't know he had. Hoisting his commander a little higher on his shoulder Zack ignored burning muscles and prayed someone noticed he was coming enough to lay a little cover-fire if needed. The forest had been uncannily silent after the explosion that had claimed most of the unit. He wasn't certain if it was because the hostiles had decided to send him back as a warning, or if his ears were simply too deadened by the blast to be able to pick out the telltale sounds of movement in the brush. Whatever the reason, he silently paid thanks that he has survived thus far, and concentrated on getting into the relative safety of the fortified wall before some impatient sniper decided to make a statement by blowing him away in sight of home.
// Still no sign of Hollis… //
He crushed the worries down, determined to think about what had gone wrong later. There was nothing he could do to help his missing friend. It would be all he could do to make sure the major didn't end up like the rest of the men left behind in the jungle. The officer needed help and quickly. The barricaded was pulled aside with seconds to spare. He all but fell through it and into the waiting crowd of worried spectators. Someone was kind enough to lift the comatose officer off his shoulder. Someone else pushed a canteen into his hands. The water tasted metallic and warm, but it was enough to give him his voice back.
"Where's the colonel…?"
"In his tent… he… I think he thinks he's the president again…"
"…How's the major…?"
"Not good… Zack… we need…"
"I know…" The shaggy haired specialist grimaced bitterly. "… Materia. Cure, the stronger the better…"
"Yeah and the only one…"
Pulling himself up and straightening his shoulders, Zack's face lost even the attempt at a smile. "I'll get it."
"…but…"
"Leave it to me." His tone didn't allow for disagreement, and torn between worry and relief, the medic simply nodded. "I'll get it back where it belongs… one way or another."
It was almost funny the way the anger went a long way towards clearing his head. Exhaustion melted away under the hot, sharp emotion, stripping the confusion around him down into two manageable categories, assets and obstacles. Zack pushed through the last few spectators as politely as he could given that he wanted to do nothing more than start bashing their heads together to make them take action for themselves. He wasn't going to just sit idly by as yet another officer died, not from the enemy but from orders that simply made no sense.
Something in his mood must have been apparent on his face because a path cleared for him leading straight up to the commander's hut. Colonel Clark didn't like visitors, especially unannounced ones. The crowd was half torn between awe at their friend for challenging the old man, and fear that they too would feel the fall-out from what was certain to be a court-martial in the making.
Zack found the control somewhere to remember to knock, once, in a business like manner on the colonel's door. He didn't wait for the reply. Putting the thin wooden barrier between him and the staring men in the yard, he took a breath to steady himself. The room was dark, was always dark, and smelled unmistakably like it was home to a man who left it very rarely, not even to shower. His commanding officer was suitably startled at his arrival, flapping his arms scare-crow like in the baggy confines of his filthy uniform.
"Treason! Treason, Mr. Thomson… I'll have you hung for this you slum-dweller, you bush-rat… you native lover… Get Out! How dare you trespass on our… my… presidential slumber…"
"Give me the cure Materia, sir. And I'll leave."
"Never, I'll not have those demon-gems getting out! Going where they please! They control the mind you know! You Know?! I must… Protect you from them… They whisper… Whisper… such naughty little secrets… Little puss-gems scavenged from the earth… like scabs… like gallstones… They're mine… Mine you hear? Mine to give, mine to keep… I am absolute! I am the one who decides life and death… Good and evil…"
Having neither the time nor the patience to put up with the man's delusions, Zack moved predatorily towards the official looking storage chest. It was usually locked. The Materia's official carrying-case was supposedly more than a little challenging to break into. Ideally there would be two keys to open it, each of the senior officers having to sign for the contents before any of the precious gems were distributed. Given that both keys were now in the hands of a raving mad-man, the soldier wasn't above admiring the irony of the situation. A metallic click brought his attention fully back on the older officer.
Clark's eyes were dilated well beyond what was needed in the murky room, giving him an even more psychotic aspect than usual. Zack felt a moment's alarm as he recognized the business end of a handgun pointed at him, but reconsidered when he saw how hard it was for his commander to even pretend to aim. He was almost certain the man had to be seeing double, or perhaps triple, seeming as content to threaten shadows or hallucinations as he was on targeting his unwanted guest. Carefully watching the gun track across him and back, trying to cover all attackers at once, he almost felt pity for the neurotic man.
Sympathetic or not, he had no intention of getting shot. He locked eyes with his commander as he stepped back, maneuvering himself a step closer to the small cabinet that held the jewel-likes stones.
// … and now the real question of the day… is he crazy enough to really shoot someone… he shot Paulo… we didn't even have a chance to try and revive him… crazy, sure, but still a damn good shot… //
The colonel giggled nervously, waving his weapon in an almost dare. "Well, what are you waiting for boy…? Go on… it's not locked…"
Zack froze, his fingers on the handle behind him as he stared the man down. "… what have you done, colonel?"
Giggling again, the gaunt officer simply waved him on, maniac grin making his face look even more skeletal. Cursing his luck, the soldier glanced over his shoulder to see what was so funny, knowing before he turned that the chest would be empty. Moving on instinct he dove to the right, a half second too slow. Clinically, the specialist noted the way the bullet tore a clean hole through his shoulder, almost spinning him as he moved to intercept. Shock was a wonderful thing, his body cooperatively ignoring the trauma for the necessary seconds it took him to get back on his feet and disarm the scrawny base commander. His fingers were clumsy as they curled around the weapon.
// Maybe it hit something important after all… //
The injury would have to wait. Applying his newly-won pistol to the colonel's forehead, he put his full weight on the older man's chest, pinning him to the ground. "… where's the Materia, colonel…?"
"I… don't…"
"Enough. Where is it?" Assaulting a superior officer was definitely a court-martial offense. He wondered if shooting out a kneecap to make his point would get him anything worse then he already merited. Deciding to see if something a trifle less direct would be enough to rattle the heavily drugged soldier, he shot the floorboards a few inches from his ear instead. Clark would have cringed if he had been able to move, as it was he simply whimpered and twitched.
"… bottom drawer…"
Shaking his captive once more to make certain his point has been made, Zack staggered upright and moved to the desk. A second bullet made a passable lock-pick and the drawer disgorged its contents. The otherwise empty bin revealed a small but sparkling mound of treasure. Mostly greens and yellows with a scattering of blues, they twinkled in proximity with one another like fireflies at sunset. The dark haired trooper didn't have time to appreciate it. Picking a green at random he checked its etched markings and dropped it to the floor in favor of another, and another. Luckily there weren't that many gems in the jumbled heap. He sighed in relief as he found the one he wanted.
Clark wasn't where he had left the man. Crawling like a sort of bug, the maddened officer had scuttled towards the door. Zack halted him with an ungentle foot on his back, pressing him back to the floor. "Now now… no slithering away… If I'm going to declare you medically unfit, I think I'll need to get you to the doctor first, don't you think?"
"Savage… demon spawn… jungle…" The man didn't seem to notice that he was foaming, ever so slightly, at the mouth. It was disturbing to say the least.
"Stay put." Two steps brought him to the door, opening it on the crowd of frightened faces. Their looks didn't improve to see him still standing. He picked two men out of the crowd that seemed the least stunned. "Reber, Stook. Escort the colonel to medical if you please, and see that he is… kept from harming himself or others."
"Yes sir."
"Your shoulder, Zack." Someone, he momentarily couldn't attach a name to the face, stepped up to apply a rough tourniquet to his arm. Looking down he was startled at the amount of blood.
// I was right. He still is a good shot. //
"… I'm going to medical… see if I can get the major back on his feet… or failing that some stitches…" Feeling a little wobbly, he was more than happy to lean against the helping hands.
"… somebody keep an eye out for Hollis… and take stock of what's in the old man's office?"
"Yes sir."
"Groovy. I'll see ya later then." Somehow or another, the medical tent appeared in front of him and he directed his uncooperative feet to get him where he needed to be.
*****
The aroma of antiseptic and stale sweat was almost suffocating after the humid but admittedly fresher air outside. Zack tried to be useful as he was helped onto a bench and propped upright to await his turn with the already frazzled medic, but found his movements hazy and slow. He closed his eyes to keep the room from spinning. Shock wearing to its end, his shoulder set up to throb steadily, the painfully swollen feeling hard to ignore.
// Don't complain moron, it really could have been worse… //
When they had shipped him out of Midgar he had thought it would be an end to his turbulent military career. Some reconsideration was definitely in order. He hadn't put his name on the piece of paper just to be shot at by some psycho superior officer. That's what the /enemy/ was for after all. Not for the first time, he wondered if there was a single capable commanding officer in the entire Shinra establishment. Daring to crack an eye open, he found he lacked the will to focus beyond the end of his nose.
Major Mallory's soft moans sounded as if they were coming from miles away instead of a few cots over. Zack turned his head vaguely in that direction, wondering how the man was doing. A shadow fell across him and distracted him from his efforts. The grizzled looking medic kept up a steady litany of epithets that truly impressed the hell out of him even if he couldn't make his mouth work to say so. Everything felt rather wooly. "Zack? Come on man, keep it together for a second. Looks like there's no exit point so I'm going to have to fish out the slug before we patch you up."
"… delightful." Blinking, he found he could focus on the stubbled cheek if he tried. A sharp, wickedly attention grabbing pain managed to cut through the fog obscuring everything. He jerked a little despite himself, not able to move far with strangers pinning his arms.
Another moment of blinding pain, and a uniquely memorable sound of metal grating wetly on bone, and the doctor pulled back with a satisfied sigh. "Nothing to it."
The dark man panted for breath. In between gulps of air, his confused ears thudded in a steady rhythm. At first he thought it just his heartbeat, but the thudding sound was too mechanical and far too faint.
// … not me…? Then what…? // He didn't have the energy to speculate.
"Easy, lieutenant, I'm going to use the Materia now, remember the drill… Don't tense up, keep your mind passive, don't try to fight it… It should make you feel drowsy…"
"… right." Zack swallowed dryly. He doubted he could have interfered with the gem's working if he wanted to. After the battering and abuse it had taken all day, his body had precious little fight left in it. Somehow he found the momentum to catch the older man by the sleeve, "… Hollis?"
"I'll keep an eye out for him..."
"… he can't die… still owes me money…"
"Hush, trooper. We can handle things from here…" The medic's voice was full of grumbling amusement. "… Damned over achieving kids these days…" A cool tingling that started in his chest spread with liquid smoothness through out his overtired muscled. The sensation concentrated for a blissful moment in his shoulder, soothing the torn and achy feelings before slowly fading away. Seeming miles away he heard excited shouts in the distance, the cheerful noise a strange contrast with the mechanical 'whump whump whump' growing louder by the minute.
//… choppers… sounds like… choppers? //
Despite his best intentions, the specialist fell asleep.
Looking down at his patient, the field medic made a quick executive decision. He could hear the sound of incoming transports just as well as the rest of the camp. Whatever they were coming for, what they were about to find was none to good.
"… Get me a 'sleep' Materia. I think the lieutenant here deserves a chance for a nice long nap to aid his recovery…" He glared at his confused orderly until the younger man moved to obey. "… He's done more than enough butt-saving for all of us for one day, least we can do is return the favor… If anyone asks, he's medically unfit for visitors or questioning. If they challenge it, send them directly to me."
A sandy blond head poked into his tent, the face almost a perfect match for his fatigues, coated with mud and smoke. The younger man still had leaves stuck to his collar and neck from a sprint through the brush. "Shit, is Zack…?"
"Ah, there you are! He was asking after you… Injuries?"
"No sir."
"Perfect. Just what I wanted to hear" The doctor wiped the blood off his hands and stood up. "… Who's the ranking able-bodied officer in camp now? I've lost track."
Hollis blinked, looking at his sleeping friend and up at the surly medic. "I think you are, lieutenant."
"… Well shit." Gesturing for the last of the specialists to follow him, he went out to await the new arrivals.
*****
His first impression of Wutai was that the arid rocky highlands were like the prows of ships rising above the dense vegetation that blanked the south half of the island. Reports stated that the forests grew sparser to the north, but he didn't feel like risking a helicopter to get a closer look at the remote capitol city. He wasn't here to cause any incidents, if anything, he would have more than enough to do just taking care of the disaster Heidigger had blindly allowed to happen. The fat fraud of a general had undoubtedly held back when he gave his briefing, now it was only a matter of finding out how badly reality conflicted with the reported facts.
His group of aircraft swung around in a tight arc over the shallows, veering off from the main island towards the south. Amid the solid wall of green, there was a man-made excavation along the edge of the coast, an eyesore of a settlement that was to be his home for the next few weeks. Knowing he wouldn't be heard above the roar of the turbine, he signaled his SOLDIERs to prepare for arrival with a flick of his fingers.
The first men were jumping from the chopper even as it was jockeying for a smooth landing on the muddy excuse for a parade ground. Sephiroth let them go ahead of him, mentally gearing himself for the unpleasantness about to begin. The camp likely had no warning what so ever that he was coming. God only knew what the officer's reaction would be to their sudden shift down the pecking order would be. His ducked his head as he slid free of the cramped craft, mindful of his height, and the whirlwind caused by the still spinning rotor.
// 'SOLDIER leader slain by hair-mishap, Heddiger blames non-regulation coiffure… pictures at eleven'… //
His dark humor died as he looked around for the first time at what he had to work with. The base was little better than a set of corrugated tin shacks with thatched roofs and dilapidated tents, surrounded by a wall of what could only be a mud and wood stockade, bolstered by tires and empty cargo crates. At first he thought the entire camp had turned out to greet him, but a rough count proved the number to be only around half the expected population. Every one of them was mud covered, wounded, underfed, or several all at once. They looked more like refugees than proud Shinra personnel.
Two of the men, one old, one young, gingerly stepped forwards to greet them. Neither of their faces were familiar despite him having memorized the profiles of the ranking officers of Kobani. They looked justifiably startled by his sudden arrival, salutes a little sloppy, although he couldn't guess if it was from disuse or from surprise.
"… Sir? Welcome to Kobani Coastal Mining, General." The grizzled man's eyes had flicked frantically over him, obviously taking in the lack of standard uniform, and finally the discrete insignia etched into his shoulder guards. "… I am senior acting medical officer, Lieutenant Kip Ferris, at your service sir…" Pointing to his younger assistant, the doctor paused to gather his thoughts. "… This is Lieutenant Matthew Hollis, Specialist."
Sephiroth stared at the two men for a moment, letting the reality sink in. "… You… are the ranking officers on base…?"
"We still have one major, one lieutenant-colonel, and a first-lieutenant, sir. But none of them are currently medically fit for duty." The man's expression was distinctly sour. Lieutenant Hollis simply looked nervously around at the seasoned SOLDIERs who were securing the helicopters. Clearing his throat, the doctor gingerly introduced the question of the hour. "… with all due respect sir… what brings you to Kobani, sir?"
Letting out a silent sigh, he pushed his disbelief aside. "… I am General Sephiroth." He watched as some of the older troopers in the crowd looked up in interest, the rest in blank incomprehension. "I have been sent here to ascertain exactly what has been happening here in the past few months that has resulted in three missing ships and… the loss of your entire chain of command."
"Amen." Ferris' quiet comment seemed heartfelt.
"… You say that Colonel Clark is still… alive?"
The doctor's expression grew cold again. "You could say that, sir. You'll be wanting to see him, of course."
"If at all possible…" Something about the sallow medic's tone implied he wasn't too happy about the idea of the introduction. Sephiroth filed the reaction away for future analysis.
"Right this way, sir." Ferris waited patiently as he turned to signal his officers to secure the area. Nodding that he was ready, the general followed the ragtag pair of officers towards a rickety looking building with a white cross hastily painted on the side. He didn't need enhanced vision to detect the shadow of a blast-mark and the residual dent halfway up the side of the wall. The only question was, who the hell had been stupid enough to accidentally hit the side of the field hospital with an ice spell.
// What the hell has happened to this place… and where the hell is everybody… //
The answer was perfectly clear once he had stepped through the door. They were all inside. The low beamed warehouse, for that must have been its original function, was filled to capacity with wounded men, burns, breaks, and bullet wounds on either side of what seemed like an unending aisle. At the end, a small curtain gave the final occupant some privacy. The doctor, paused, giving him an odd look.
"… I've given him a shot of T-40 to calm him down, but even sober, he doesn't tend to make very much sense. I suggest talking slowly, and repeating yourself often."
Sephiroth simply raised an eyebrow at the information, peering past the curtain at the twitching figure on the bed before looking back. "… Maybe you should fill me in on exactly what is going on, lieutenant."
The tired looking doctor moved to hold open a door to what looked like a tiny office. "Right this way, sir."
Smirking humorlessly, he pointed to a chair, and then moved to a small safe behind his desk. "… Can I offer you a drink, general? No? In that case I hope you don't mind if I indulge."
*****
-Lunar