Vincent was glad to have a purpose.
Well actually, "glad" was too strong a word. "Less unhappy" or "content" was probably closer to the truth. After Sephiroth's defeat, when they were all back on the airship again, Vincent had wondered where he was going to go, what he was going to do. The only "home" he knew in this world besides his coffin was the Highwind and his companions. Surprisingly, he had little desire to return to the dank solitude of the Nibelheim mansion. Maybe he felt he had atoned for his inaction over Lucrecia by negating Hojo's work. Maybe he had begun to feel a strange kinship towards Cloud and the rest of AVALANCHE. Maybe he felt that the best way to make up for all the sorrow and despair he had wrought upon the world was to make it closer to the kind of world Lucrecia would have wanted to live in. He had thought about it a lot, lately, but he had been unable to determine the exact reason he felt slightly more at peace with his past. Vincent had denied himself any emotion but melancholy for so long, he had a hard time identifying others. When he stopped to think, to analyze what he was feeling, the emotion slipped out of sight, like shadows when a light is brought into a room.
It was this same feeling of uncertainty and confusion that struck him when he felt a gentle pressure on his shoulder. He whipped his head around instinctively, only to find it was Yuffie, half-asleep, looking a little green but otherwise peaceful. And her head was resting on his shoulder. It was strange, how it made him feel. He couldn't put a name to it, at first, and he ran through a long list of possible emotions trying to figure out what it was. Anger? Regret? Fear? Lust? Paternal protectiveness? Pride? Contentment? Affection? No, it was none of these, really. Finally, he found a name for it in something Yuffie had said a long time ago, when Cloud had let her use Knights of the Round before anyone else.
"Thank you for trusting me, Cloud," she had said, "even though I don't deserve it." Yes, it was nice having someone trust him as a friend, and not as a soldier, even if he didn't deserve it. He let her head rest there, thinking those thoughts, until Reno yelled back from the cockpit,
"$&@*! That thing's huge!" Vincent looked up to see Reno turn around and look at the pair in the rear of the helicopter. Reno laughed with an obscene grin, "I hope you two are better at fighting than you are at schmoozing."
Startled, Yuffie sat up and cried, "Snoozing?! The only reason I had to take a nap was to shut out your horrible piloting! You make me want to puke, Reno!!!" Vincent prayed Reno wouldn't notice that she misheard what he said, and Reno just laughed.
"Ha! How tough can you be if you can't even handle a jaunty little ride in Shinra's luxury aircraft? If you weren't so young, I'd sure--"
"That's enough," Vincent cut in, "The last thing we need is to be fighting each other instead of the Weapon."
"Then what are we waiting for?," Yuffie asked excitedly, "Land right here, Reno!! That way we can choose our ground before Weapon gets to us!" Despite Yuffie's complaints, Reno really was a good pilot, and the chopper landed gently in a small valley nestled between some small hills. The three hopped out and stretched a bit, making sure weapons and armlets and materia were all in place before heading to the top of the hill where Amethyst Weapon would approach. It was closer than it looked from up in the chopper.
"Yeah! Time to whup some Weapon! Get it?! WHUP some WHUPPIN?!," Yuffie exclaimed playfully, doing a little dance that looked more like wrestling than cheerleading. Vincent would have smiled if he had remembered how. No, he couldn't go back to solitary self-pitying slumber. Not anymore.
Elena was very surprised not to have heard a word of cursing from Barret or Cid so far. Of course, they only had said about five words total during their trip, so there wasn't much room for cursing. She was impressed that they respected her, though. Even though she was obviously used to such crude behavior from Reno, that didn't mean that she liked it.
"Looks like we found ourselves a Weapon," Barret declared.
"Yup," Cid replied tersely.
Elena peered out the window and almost gasped at the sight of the creature. It lumbered on all fours, a metal monstrosity that oozed midnight and shadow, its black surface punctuated only by its two small, red eyes. Instinctively, she reached for her gun, soothed by its cool solidity, but at the same time suspicious of its cold resemblance to the dark creature they were to fight.
"Um," she interjected timidly, "Shouldn't we have some sort of plan or something?" Not that she was frightened, of course. But it certainly looked like a . . . formidable opponent. Barret turned and looked at her.
"We got one," he stated, "Cid's gonna have the Highwind hover right above that thing. You and me'll take it out from above with our long-range weapons, and Cid will hop down there an confuse the monster with that new fork of his and some materia tricks, too." She looked at Cid with respect at his willingness to place himself in danger for them, and blurted out,
"That's, uh, that's nice of you, Cid. Um, great plan, guys." She realized that she sounded really lame, but she couldn't take back her words, and she wasn't sure what else she'd say if she could. Cid snorted.
"Yeah, well, somebody's gotta save your sorry, ah, behinds. And, Barret, it's not a stupid fork, it's a three-pronged spear! Get it right!"
"Looks like a pitchfork to me. Hope that monster's made of hay," Barret muttered, but Elena could tell there was no animosity behind their bickering, just nervousness. She checked to make sure she had loaded her four extra clips hidden under her jacket, and tried to calm herself. Rude had told her that the best way to fight a battle was calmly, with an unshakeable assurance that you would win. She was working on that, but she had lost so many times that it was hard to think that way. She usually ended up fighting with desperate survival instinct instead, which worked all right most of the time, but any mistakes would be twice as bad.
"We're getting' close; better fly down low and get into position," Barret instructed. Cid mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like swearing and instructed the pilot to veer down low.
"OK; you all just hover here 'til I tell you not to," he instructed his crewmen, "And no interfering! You got your job, and we got ours." He grabbed his slender spear, and ran off the bridge and down to the lower deck, which was exposed to the cool fall air. Barret and Elena followed, and she tried to take slow, measured breaths despite the adrenaline billowing about her like a whirlpool. She arrived just in time to see Cid scurrying down the rope ladder, and she positioned herself by the railing, gun trained and ready to shoot when the Weapon came within range. She wished that she had a longer range gun, like Rufus' shotgun, or Vincent's sniper rifle, but she had trained for years with a pistol and had become accustomed to its lightweight, close-range firing. If there was one thing she took pride in, it was being an excellent shot. When she wasn't nervous. Which was hardly ever.
She looked to her right and saw Barret also poised against the railing, and he grinned at her with that fierce, wild grin of his. The calm smile she gave in return belied her nervousness, and she had to use both hands on her pistol to keep from shaking.
I'm a Turk, she repeated to herself, I can do this.
Being the only member of the little group with hands, Shera was the one driving the helicopter.
"Sorry!," she yelled, as she swerved abruptly to narrowly miss skimming the top of a building. Piloting a helicopter was a lot different than the Tiny Bronco, and she'd only had a few chances to fly that when Cid wasn't around.
"Shera, you mustn't apologize so much," Nanaki reminded her, "It's beginning to disturb me." From the look on his face, however, Shera guessed that her apologizing wasn't the main reason he was disturbed.
"I know, I'm sorry," she apologized again, and gritted her teeth as she accidentally jerked the craft to the left.
"Isn't that the first reactor?," Red XIII queried, gesturing with his tail.
"Yes, it is," agreed Cait Sith, "Shera, do you think you could land in that small park?" Calling it a "park" was a stretch; it couldn't have been more than ten meters square, with packed dirt instead of green grass, but it was the closest spot to the reactor that was flat. Beginning to be more accustomed to piloting the craft, Shera managed to set it down safely, if not gently. She even landed it in the park. Well, most of it was in the park; the tail was sticking out into the street, but there wasn't any traffic around here anymore. Pushing back a strand of brown hair that had escaped her tight ponytail, she smiled in relief.
There was little chance of the bizarre trio looking official, or even inconspicuous, so they were all relieved when no one seemed to be around to question them. Of course, if Reeve had come as himself instead of Cait Sith, there wouldn't have been a problem, since the soldiers were fiercely loyal to the new President. But, since the President's alter ego was as yet unknown to the general population of Midgar, it was a good thing no soldiers or technicians were present. With all the chaos of the past few weeks, their absence wasn't really surprising.
Shera followed the others into the reactor, and watched Cait Sith enter in the key codes with his paws. She had to suppress a giggle at the tiny cat punching in top secret security information.
Finally they were in the computer room, and the three of them set to work, attempting to decipher the myriad of screens and buttons. The console Shera was currently looking at seemed to be some sort of security computer. She could view different cameras in areas all over the reactor, deploy bots, and control several turrets that guarded the outside of the reactor.
"I don't think the shutdown is here; this console just has security programs."
"Mine deals with temperature, radiation, and humidity sensors and controls," Red XIII added.
"Here it is," Cait Sith exclaimed, "In the administration and employment section, of all places." He touched one of the buttons on the screen, leaving a small paw print in the dust, and suddenly the repetitive whirring and clunking that had permeated the background noise ceased, and the lights flickered and went out. Red's glowing tail cast eerie orange shadows on their faces for a moment, and then the backup generator kicked in. Emergency lights, located near the floor, were fairly dim, but they delineated halls and doorways well enough for the three to find their way out.
"One down, seven to go!," Cait Sith declared as they reached the helicopter, "Well, five, I guess, since one was destroyed by Meteor, and we never did repair the one that AVALANCHE, er, the one that exploded." Shera noticed Red XIII smiling at that, and made a mental note to herself to ask Cid for more details on the recent events. Then again, he had come on the scene fairly late. Maybe Tifa would be a better person to ask.
Shera managed to lift the helicopter off the ground without obliterating any lamp posts, and without apologizing at all. She would have been proud of herself, if she hadn't at that moment knocked out a window in a nearby shop. She refused to say "Sorry".
Tifa wondered why Cloud had put Rude in the group with them. Had Cloud forgotten the embarrassing conversation they had overheard in Gongaga, where Rude confessed he had a crush on her? Surely "crush" was the right word- they'd fought each other more times than they'd actually spoken together. Looking at him now, it was hard to believe he'd ever say such a thing. His large, heavily muscled frame looked cramped in the small seats in the back of the helicopter, and his hands were clasped together in a guise of perfect tranquility. He appeared to be looking out the window behind his dark glasses, and his mouth was a thread devoid of emotion.
Suddenly, he turned, and seeing she was watching him, she almost thought she saw his mouth twitch, as if he was about to say something. But instead he just pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose and looked away. Yet she sensed what he had been about to say, as clearly as if he had spoken it aloud. He wants me to give him a chance, she realized, but he will understand if I don't want to. She was amazed at his peaceful selflessness.
Knowing this, she felt a little self-conscious, sitting in the back of the helicopter with him, alone. She tugged the legs of her black shorts down a little, wishing they didn't expose quite so much leg. She kind of wished she had worn a different shirt, too -- one that wasn't quite so form-fitting. She had picked out her everyday outfit a long time ago because of the freedom of movement her clothes offered, essential to her agile style of fighting, but at that moment she wished she had chosen something else. Her clothes made it too hard to tell if someone was looking at her, or just her physical form.
"Excuse me a moment," she murmured to Rude, and then walked up to the cockpit where Cloud was piloting. Come to think of it, shouldn't Rude be the one steering the Shinra helicopter? Although it appeared Cloud could fly reasonable well, he was no pilot, much less a Shinra pilot. Something strange was going on, and Tifa didn't like the feeling that she was somehow left out of the loop, by one of her closest friends, no less. She stood by him a moment, debating whether or not to say anything. But then Cloud glanced over at her for a second, blue eyes glittering like carved ice, and she knew that he just wanted to help her.
At that moment, Tifa saw in him so much -- their childhood friendship, their battles together, their journey back from the Lifestream . . . She had loved him for so long that she couldn't really tell what kind of love it was, but she did know one thing.
"I'll be a part of your life forever," she whispered, almost inaudibly. But she wasn't sure what part that would be. She squeezed Cloud's shoulder, and stood there for a few minutes, wondering what, and who, would pervade her future.
Until she looked up, and saw it. Garnet Weapon. Glittering beneath the ocean, it looked like a giant fiery salamander crawling towards them, slowly rising as it neared the beach.
"Cloud, look!" As it rose out of the water, Tifa noticed its mottled orange and red surface looked like soft, moist skin. It was hard to believe that the creature was really mechanical, its skin was so smooth and alive. Although the creature's black eyes looked languid, its swift power and bulk made it obvious that this was not a Weapon to be trifled with.
"I see it, Tifa. We'll set down on that bushy rise." Cloud gestured to a low hill that the monster would soon pass through, with a clearing large enough to land the helicopter in but with enough brush to allow them the advantage of a surprise attack. Tifa nodded at the choice, and then began a few stretches to help her warm up. She glanced back once, and smiled to see Rude doing the same stretches. It was odd to be thinking about even thinking about romance in the wake of all that had happened, and even more strange to be thinking this about someone who wasn't Cloud. She wasn't really attracted to Rude -- but she wasn't totally put off by him, either. She just didn't know him. It was almost creepy, knowing that he liked her, but knowing hardly anything about him at all.
These thoughts were thrust from her mind as the chopper landed abruptly, and the three fighters hopped out together. Purposefully, she began her meditation exercises to clear her mind and purge all distracting emotions. With her eyes closed, she did not see the two pairs of eyes that watched her, both vowing to protect her no matter the cost.