All for the Love of Chaos

Chapter 2

Dark purple hues had began to appear on the horizon by the time she had left the military barracks-turned-apartment, got on the train, and walked to an airfield on the upper plate. The air wasn't any cleaner, but it wasn't stagnant like the air below. It got some getting used to going from seeing steel plates to open sky and vice-versa. Every time she made the transition she had to stand in awe of the limitless heavens above.

Planes of nearly every make and model lined three runways. Nearly all of them were dark, except for one in the distance; which she assumed was Charlie preparing one of the freighter planes.

Making her way down the runway, she realized with disdain that the plane was a Commodore A-16. Sixty feet long, nearly thirty tons. Specifically, the plane deemed by her fellow pilots simply as "Bucket"(on it's good days that is, on bad it had a colorful variety of curse words added onto it). The large plane was one of the slowest, oldest, and most unreliable in the entire fleet.

A rather stout man with broad shoulders and a crew cut was hovering around the plane. His attire was nearly identical to hers yet somehow he managed to make it seem muck more uniform and tidy as he made the final emissions tests. The plane was passing, but just barely. His dark brown eyes critically examined one of the fuel lines, face twisted in a disapproving frown.

"God, some days it would just be merciful to take this old bird to the back yard and shoot it, don't ya think?" Kay remarked. Charlie could have sworn he could hear her grinning when she talked. He smiled in agreement, but didn't pause from his work. He was a textbook example of a workaholic.

Captain Charlie Hawking thought of their relationship was an odd one--if you could even call it that. When Kay first came to work for the shipping company, she was shunned by most, being a girl and younger then anyone else on the force of five hundred pilots. No one even bothered to learn her name, to them she was just another backwater redneck from Rocket Town. Charlie was usually passive, quiet and serious; Kay might as well have been a foul-mouthed Molotov Cocktail. Yet, she and Charlie just seemed to click. It made no difference to them that they were six years apart or different genders. Though many claimed that the two had something going on between them, not once had Charlie implied that he wanted a romantic relationship (much to her relief). They were good friends; nothing could ever change it.

She leaned against the hull of the steel monstrosity and crossed her arms. "So where're we goin'?"

"Hmm. Not quite sure yet." He said, glancing over at her then chuckled softly at the scrutinizing gaze she possessed. "We're supposed to go to Kalm to pick up a few troops then drop them off wherever they're being stationed."

"So we're a taxi service now?" she scoffed, wrapping her jacket tighter around herself as a strong breeze chilled her to the bone. He shrugged and checked an open panel with his flashlight.

"Money's money."

"Story of your life, eh?" she grinned. "You done yet or what?"

He chuckled again. "Yeah, hop in." He opened the hatch with a grunt. She stepped in with Charlie falling in behind her.

She sat down in a patched vinyl seat and flicked on a few switches on the computer console before her. She cursed when nothing happened. Charlie came up behind her and banged his fist down twice in just the right place, making the screens and buttons light up and hum to life.

"What's the code?"

"Ummm...two-zero-eight-five-three-four-four, if I'm not mistaken."

Not even commenting on his uncanny memorization skills, Kay punched in the combination and the words "password accepted" flashed across the screen before allowing her access to the data recorder and the global positioning system.

He flopped down beside her in the captain's chair and took the wheel in one hand and the gearshift in the other. With another flick of the wrists, Charlie got the engines off to a sputtering start. Within moments the clumsy, lurching pile of rusty scrap ascended into the air.

***

They touched down in Kalm an hour and a half later. Those ready for boarding were milling around, talking to friends and loved ones. There were twenty-six people that were booked to fly on the Bucket: all Soldier recruits plus a senior member of the Turks that would oversee the flight. Charlie had gone out to meet with the Turk; Kay simply stood in the cargo hold doorway, leaning against the frame eating her breakfast.

She scanned the rag-tag group of twenty or so 'warriors' over. She estimated that only half of them were over the age of twenty. President Shinra must have been doing cartwheels in his grave. Only one of them was in first class. A few in second but for the most part they had just stripped of an MP uniform. Not only that, but none of them could be nearly as threatening as the genetically enhanced Soldiers of yesteryear.

With the mako reactors off line, access to the mako had been severed. The training and screening of Solders had been rigorous and precise. The infusion of mako was extremely straining on young solders. Those that didn't meet the high standards couldn't handle the infusion, their bodies eventually rejecting the mako and inevitably killing them in the process. Only the best of the best were admitted into the program. But with Shinra being what they were, mistakes were not unheard of. As well as being taxing on the body, the brain was subject to serious, traumatizing stress as well.

Studies on the members of the elite force found that an amount that had been infused with mako had become mentally ill, some only a few days after the actual procedure. The body may have survived, but the mind had shattered of some of these men. Paranoia, homicidal mania, manic-depressive syndrome, amnesia, post-traumatic stress disorders, personality fragmentation, the list goes on and on. The number was small, but even one was enough to make people worry. The program was terminated. It was all for the best, the government had decided. After all, the last thing anyone wanted was to have mentally unstable super-killing machines running around.

Too many had witnessed that first hand.

Kay speared another black olive from the jar with a fork, popped it into her mouth, and declared it some of the best she had ever eaten. Her mother died shortly after her ninth birthday. When the community of Rocket Town wasn't raising her, she ate whatever dad set before her. Taking into consideration that his cooking abilities were limited to whatever could be boiled in water, heated from a can or box, and burned on a grill; she wasn't picky.

She sighed contentedly. The sun was blazing in the clear sky, taking the edge off the crisp wind and the rays being absorbed by her dark clothing, making her comfortably warm. The distant rhythmic pounding of the waves was soothing, setting her exhausted mind at ease. And she had the olives. Life was good...

"Hey you! The broad on the plane!"

Her contentment shattered with the blink of her weary eyes, she looked down to the group of men standing about fifteen yards from the plane. One stood apart from the rest, closer then the rest of them. He was kind of tall, her age or a little older, dressed in a camouflage first class Soldier uniform (it was difficult to tell who was who to the untrained civilian. But having spent her life so close to the military she could tell by how a uniform was cut and how light or dark the print was what class they were in). His frame was thin and lean, but not without superb muscular form in the shoulders, arms, thighs and ass. He was going prematurely gray it seemed; his jet-black hair that was styled much in the way of the very late Rufus Shinra's and shot with strands of silver that shimmered in the sunlight. The face looked almost feminine; heart-shaped and delicately boned. His eyes were a luminous green that seemed to glow even without the use of mako. He was smirking confidently, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back slightly to look up at her.

She was hurt, she really was, but too enraged to care. She hated these kinds of guys, the posturing, preening, self-absorbed macho men. They always seemed to hound her, no matter where she went or what the circumstances were.

It takes forty-four muscles to frown while it takes only about three to flash someone a one-fingered salute. Yet, neither of those would get her point across in just the right way. She had learned a long time ago that people will and always would fuck with you in any way possible and as much as they want--as long as you put up with it. As always, she was brimming with ideas as to how to dispatch the unwanted attention with as much dignity and flair as she could manage. You had to beat them at their own game, their own style. She wondered if they had come to recognize deceptive tactics yet. If not, she'd have to show them a little demonstration...

She pointed to herself, a coy smile slowly making its presence visible.

"Yeah, you."

She dropped down and scooted off the doorway, landing on her feet as she slid from the plane. With the seductive curves and sway of a cobra, she made her way down the asphalt, not once taking her eyes from his. Her gaze and posture entrancing, the Soldier didn't dare look away. This would be all too easy...

"Alright, sir, what are your orders?" Charlie asked, some distance away from the troops. Turquoise eyes that glowed slightly with old mako regarded him coolly. He shifted slightly under that cynical gaze.

"I would have thought someone would have told you by now."

"I'm not exactly on the top of the list of informants."

"No, I don't suppose so...And don't call me 'sir'. It sounds funny. Name's Reno," He added. Charlie nodded, more relieved that he could speak with the Turk on less formal terms.

"Right, sorry, Reno. Anyway, the flight plan?"

"Yeah. Condor City, Mideel, Junon, Nibelheim then the most experienced one of the bunch goes to join the rest of the troops in Rocket Town."

Charlie whistled. "Wow, that's a long flight...Why are the troops being stationed anyway? Is it because of the...incident with the Aeris?"

"That and the attack at Midgar." Mild shock passed over the pilot's face.

"Midgar?" he choked, "When? How could...whatever it was have gotten here so fast?"

"Last night, somewhere in sector six. He was one of the President's accountants. I saw to it personally, not pleasant at all, guy looked like he had been flayed. Looked exactly like the other guy, only we think he had been knocked out beforehand. Had a scorch mark across his back and no signs of a struggle." Reno shrugged "As to how the hell it got here we have no clue. My guess is that it‘s a damn good swimmer."

"Or someone brought it..." Charlie stated dryly. What a nasty way to go, but at least the fellow had been unconscious...he hoped.

Reno shrugged and looked to the plane, extremely skeptical of it's flight capabilities, then noticed Kay standing quietly in the cargo hold doorway. She wasn't bad looking--Not bad at all. In his younger days, women where his one and only interest. He was married now though, and this girl was young enough to be his daughter. Aww, hell, just because he was on a diet didn't mean he couldn't look at the menu, right?

"Girlfriend of yours?"

"Her? Nah. Friend of mine."

"It's going to be a ship load of lonely boys and one available chick. I'd keep an eye on her if I were you."

Charlie didn't look overly concerned. "She takes care of herself. I don't think your boys will pose much of a problem," He stated with a shrug.

The Turk scoffed as another thing interrupted his womanizing. "Yeah. 'Boys.' Do you know how long I've been a Turk? Nearly twenty five years counting training and I get stuck baby-sitting. What a hell of a way to end a career..."

Charlie could say nothing. Just like classes for Soldier, there were classes for Turks, and Reno, one of the last "old-school" Turks, had been one of the best. He had been the near equivalent of Sephiroth in such a sense. Ruthlessness, cunning, obedient, resourceful, he had all the qualities of a successful Turk. Going from one of Shinra's right hand men to the president's paperweights was a great loss in standing. He fully understood the source of Reno's contempt.

"Oh, shit," was Charlie's response, as he happened to glance over the Turk's shoulder at a notoriously innocent-looking Kay approaching a Soldier.

Reno looked behind himself curiously. "What the hell's she going? Making passes at the men?"

Charlie shook his head. "Hardly."

"Then--"

Reno soon witnessed the answer to his unfinished question. With unexpected speed and fluid movement, her fist clenched, arm drew back and then uncoiled like a spring to connect directly with the man's smiling face.

He staggered back with the force of her blow and would have fallen if it were not for the men behind him that rushed to his support and caught him from behind. He was a bloody mess. The Soldiers gaped at her in absolute astonishment. Kay cursed as she held her injured hand, her knuckle cut where they had met his teeth. By this time Charlie and Reno had rushed over, the pilot gripping her shoulders from behind to make sure she didn't lunge at her quarry again as Reno fumbled with a restore materia.

"What the hell did you do that for!" Charlie hissed in her ear.

"Bad first impressions," She said, flashing a smile. Charlie gave her that look. "He started it..." She commented innocently. Charlie shook his head and steered her in the direction of the plane.

"You've really got to get to an anger management class or something," He sighed, opening the door for her.

"Tell me about it. I can't begin to count how many times I've busted up my hand..."

Go on to Chapter 3