Desha's Reno of the Turks Fan Fiction

Chapter 36: The Week of Hell Begins

Reno peered around the the corner, keeping as silent as possible… and paused when he spotted a familiar figure bent over a pile of papers, writing furiously. Hesitantly, he knocked on the doorframe, announcing himself. Tseng looked up in surprise.

“Hey, Boss… uh… got a minute?”

“Of course,” the Turk lieutenant replied, waving him inside. Reno stepped through the doorway, closing it behind him, and sat down in one of the chairs across from his mentor.

“So… I know you want me to be ready to go for Hell Week, but… um…”

Tseng raised an eyebrow. “But something else has come up?” he surmised.

“Rude’s headin’ to Mideel sometime next week. It’s the Zenshou situation. He wants me to go along as backup.”

“That assignment has priority. Obviously, you’ll go.”

“… I mean, yeah. But… don’t you need me?” he queried.

“It’s hardly the first Hell Week I’ve conducted on my own,” his mentor replied with a dismissive wave.

“I just feel kinda shitty leavin’ ya in the lurch like that…”

Tseng chuckled. “You’ve already been of immeasurable assistance. If there is greater need of you elsewhere, I will just have to manage until you return. I’m sure others will be on hand to fill in for you while you’re gone.”

The redhead relaxed and settled back in the chair. Really, he didn’t know why he was so worried about this. Like Tseng had said… the bullshit with the Zenshou took priority right now. Even over something as important as Hell Week. Fuck, it was so high priority that, being in charge of the investigation at this point, Rude had essentially been given free reign over the use of Turk resources for the time being… and that included personnel. Per Veld’s orders, if he needed it, he got it. The necessary paperwork could be submitted after the fact.

“Reno… I will never be upset with you for doing your job,” his mentor added, “I will indeed need additional help at some point… but if you’re still unavailable when that need arises, that is my problem to deal with. There’s no need to concern yourself about it when there are more important things happening.”

“Yes, sir,” the younger Turk replied, relieved.

“… I do have onething you can do for me, right now, however, if you’re really feeling that guilty about it…”

“Sure, Boss… Just name it,” Reno said, eagerly. Tseng passed him half of a pile of what the redhead quickly realized were requisition forms and cleared his throat.

“With everything that’s been going on lately, I’m afraid I’ve gotten a bit behind. These are due for submission tomorrow morning by eight thirty, and quite frankly I have little chance of meeting that deadline unless I stay late tonight. Which, normally, would be no great inconvenience, but I… have a prior engagement this evening I’d prefer not to miss.”

The redhead cocked an eyebrow in curiosity as he accepted the forms.

“What kinda prior engagement?” he asked.

“I… am meeting Viridia for dinner. The Junon Materia Corps is in Midgar giving a recruitment demonstration this afternoon. They’ll be leaving first thing in the morning, so obviously her time here is rather limited.”

A wide grin spread over the younger Turk’s face, and Tseng rolled his eyes.

“I don’t need your usual commentary on my relationship or my off-duty activities. Just your assistance in filling these out,” he preemptively added.

“Tch… sure… just suck all the fun right out of it…” Reno snickered, reaching for a pen.

---

As it turned out, Reno didn’t have to miss the beginning of Sykes’ Hell Week after all… because Rude hadn’t been able to even get ahold of a representative of the Mideel Historical Society until Sunday afternoon. Apparently, they were a rather… informal… group. The meeting had been set up, though. For late Tuesday morning.

Which meant that, on Monday, he was able to happily join Veld, Rude, Remy, and Tseng as they gathered in the hallway of the Turks’ office shortly before eight in the morning and waited for the unsuspecting rookie to step aboard the Elevator of Doom.

“Kai is going to be extraordinarily disappointed that she’s missing this…” Veld commented.

“The timing of her field training for the other rookies was rather unfortunate. But I wasn’t about to postpone Hell Week yet again simply because she opted to alter her own schedule.”

Reno not-so-subtly elbowed Rude in the ribs. “You’d better have plenty of popcorn ready for us when she gets back tomorrow, pal. The screamin’ fit’s gonna be epic,” he joked. Rude snickered quietly.

“Plain or buttered?”

“Tch… who the fuck eats plain popcorn?” the redhead replied in a mock-offended tone.

“I do…” Remy responded, arms folded over her chest in challenge, “It’s healthier. Besides which, you’re both leaving for Mideel in the morning. You won’t even be here.”

Reno eyed her for a moment and then shook his head. “Tch… We’re gonna need some in-flight snacks, aren’t we? Whatever. If you wanna eat it wrong, I guess that’s your business…” he replied, before turning back to Rude, “You can just put all her butter on mine.”

Before Rude could respond, the light on the panel next to the elevator doors lit up, illuminating the “Up” button. Veld chuckled softly.

“I have to admit… I’ve always rather enjoyed this evaluation…”

“It has always been my least favorite…” Tseng opined with a faint snort, which only caused his mentor to laugh louder and clap the younger Turk on the back as the display on the wall showed the elevator car climbing past the fifty-eighth floor.

“You’re not still sour over that after all these years, are you, Tseng?”

The Turk lieutenant sighed and shook his head, refusing to answer the question. Instead, he focused on the panel, which now displayed sixty-nine. A few seconds later, it clicked back to sixty-eight. Then sixty-seven… and simply kept going, the number flickering through so fast, Reno couldn’t actually read them. They dropped through the sixties… then the fifties… the forties… By the time it hit the thirties, the sense of anticipation was almost palpable.

Fourteen. Reno had finally stopped the damn thing on fourteen… and that number, he was fairly certain, was permanently etched into his memory after the experience. He’d learned later that rookies tended to find the emergency brake somewhere between ten and twenty floors from certain death… which placed him comfortably within the average, though he knew of at least two Turks who had exceeded that score pretty drastically. Remy, who’d held the previous record of thirty-two… and Rude, who’d stolen her record by saving himself at an utterly ridiculous thirty-eight. He couldn’t help but wonder where Sykes would place.

As the display clicked over into the twenties, it became obvious that Rude’s title was safe for another Hell Week, and the redhead was almost certain he heard a faint, irritated sigh from Remy’s direction. He snickered quietly to himself. The senior Turk still held a little bit of a grudge against his friend for so easily obliterating her old record.

The elevator dropped past the twentieth floor and into the teens, and Reno wondered how his own score would compare to Sykes’. Fourteen wasn’t exactly anything to brag about, after all… but it wasn’t bottom of the barrel, either. It was just… average. Good enough, but nothing special.

As the numbers reached single digits, though, he was suddenly very glad for that good enough, average fourteen. Suddenly, the descent abruptly stopped, the LED panel reading “3” in bright red. There was a collective groan, amongst the assembled Turks. Sykes had hit the failsafe.

“Well… seems our young Sykes has at least one thing to work on,” Veld commented, as the numbers on the panel began a slow increase, finally stopping at fifty-eight. The elevator chimed, and a very pale rookie staggered into the hallway. Reno snickered and slipped under one arm, while Rude hurried to follow suit, propping the younger Turk up.

“Welcome to Hell Week,” Tseng said, smiling faintly. Sykes groaned as his knees buckled, and had the other two Turks not been holding him up, Reno was fairly certain he’d have ended up on the floor. The Turk lieutenant chuckled. “Take him to the lounge and let him recover for a bit.”

Reno and Rude gladly obliged, half-escorting, half-carrying the rookie down the hallway, finally installing him on the couch near the window. Sykes glanced up at them, still looking somewhat dazed.

“… I have to survive a whole week of this?” he asked, vaguely horrified. Reno grinned widely, and took a seat next to him.

“Ah, don’t worry. Tseng’s not gonna do anything that’s actually gonna kill ya…” he replied, and then let his grin widen even more, “Ya know… unless ya like, have a heart attack or somethin’…”

Sykes groaned and leaned forward, placing his head in his hands.

“What was that even supposed to evaluate?” he asked, his voice muffled by his palms.

“Panic response,” Reno and Rude chorused. The rookie looked up again, an expression of dismay on his face.

“R-really?” he said, quietly.

“Yep. They do that to everyone. There’s an emergency brake in the wall panel. Faster ya find it, the better your score,” Reno replied.

“I must have lowest score ever,then…” Sykes said, miserably.

“… You don’t,” a voice from the direction of the doorway informed him, and the on-edge rookie jumped violently in response.

“Geez, Boss… watch it with the stealth approach, will ya? Kid’s already half-traumatized,” Reno snickered. Tseng chuckled faintly and crossed the room, holding a mug of tea out to Sykes.

“Forgive me. It’s a difficult habit to break.”

The younger Turk gratefully accepted the proffered beverage and took a tentative sip before dropping his gaze again and staring into the translucent, golden liquid. He sighed heavily, but before he could say anything, Tseng had taken a seat beside him.

“Don’t dwell on it. The purpose of Hell Week is to establish areas of strength and areas where improvement is needed. Nothing more. You’re… not the first Turk to fail to find the brake.”

He tentatively raised his eyes to meet Tseng’s. “I’m not?”

Tseng sighed heavily and shook his head. “No. You’re not. As much as I hate to admit it… the same thing happened to me.”

“Whoa… whoa, whoa, whoa… Back up,” Reno interjected, “You never told me that!”

The Wutaiian Turk turned his attention on his former rookie. “You stopped the car on the fourteenth floor,” he said, pointedly, “I saw no benefit to revisiting my past failings in yourcase.” He finally refocused on the still somewhat ghostly-looking rookie on the couch. “It’s not the end of the world. It simply means that we have some additional work to do.”

“Yes, sir…” Sykes replied, managing a faint smile. Tseng nodded and glanced over at the redhead. “May I borrow you for a few minutes before the morning briefing?”

“Sure, Boss,” Reno replied, and followed him out into the hallway. As the door to the lounge closed behind them, the younger man grinned widely. “Sooooo…”

Tseng rolled his eyes as he paused in his bid for his office. “Yes,I failed the panic response evaluation as a rookie,” he sighed, “Go on and make your jokes… I’d prefer you simply get it all out of your system now, rather than having to endure an entire week of commentary on the subject.”

The redhead snickered. “Ya know… under normal circumstances I probably would be jokin’ about that. But I think I’m still too fuckin’ shocked that I actually beat ya at somethin’ to come up with anything decent. My score suddenly doesn’t seem quite so… ya know… underwhelming… anymore…”

Tseng shook his head, and escorted his protege into his office.

“There is nothing ‘underwhelming’ about a fourteen,” Tseng stated, firmly, as he took a seat at his desk. Reno quickly took up residence in the chair opposite him. “In fact… I was rather impressed with your score.”

The redhead looked at him somewhat quizzically. “… Why?” he asked, mystified. “I mean… it’s barely even average. Rude scored a fuckin’ thirty-eight.”

“Rude had also been training in the recruitment program for nearly a year before his promotion to rookie. Considering how much less training you had by the time your Hell Week came around… yes, it was impressive. There are surprisingly few people in the world who are not naturally predisposed to panic during a crisis.”

Reno snorted in laughter. “Considerin’ I almost crapped myself when the fuckin’ elevator dropped, I’m not so sure about that whole ‘not predisposed to panic’ thing…” he laughed.

“Yes, well… Given that nearly as soon as I exited said elevator I had to sprint for the restroom to vomit… I perhaps have a rather different perspective,” Tseng deadpanned, before sternly adding, “And if you value your life, that bit of information goes no farther than this office. Ever.”

“W-wait… You… You puked after they pulled that on ya?”

The Turk lieutenant groaned and leaned back in his chair. “Yes. I did. It wasn’t exactly the highlight of my career. And I swear to Leviathan, if you mention that to anyone –”

Reno grinned. “Relax, Boss… Your secret’s safe with me,” he snickered, “I won’t even tell Rude.”

Tseng nodded and settled in his seat. “My point is… even the best of our ranks did not start out being the best. We’ve all have a great deal to learn when we were first starting out, and it takes years for a Turk to reach their full potential. No exceptions. What a rookie, or even a young Turk, may regard as a shortcoming or poor performance, I may consider nothing more than something upon which we can improve. Experience only comes with time, after all.”

“Yes, sir…” Reno acknowledged. It was weird thinking about Tseng as a rookie, no more experienced than he was himself. His mentor was… one of the best of the best. Somehow, he’d never really given much thought to how he got there. And he inexplicably wanted to know more… even though it likely meant having the image of, well… his hero… being permanently altered.

“In any case,” Tseng continued before he could question him farther on the subject, “I did have a reason for asking to speak to you privately… beyond humiliating myself with tales of my rookie days, that is. You and Rude will not be leaving for Mideel until tomorrow, correct?”

“Yeah… We’re takin’ off first thing. Rude figures we probably won’t be back ’til sometime Wednesday. He want’s to talk to some of the other locals, too.”

“Good… Then you’re free to help me this evening. Sykes’ second evaluation will be taking place at the Sector 0 train station when he leaves for the day.”

“Fuck, Tseng… not even gonna give the poor kid a day to settle down?” he snickered.

“I like to keep my evaluation subjects off-balance. If they have no idea when to expect the next test, they never truly relax,” the senior Turk replied, and the younger man shook his head.

“Man,am I ever glad I don’t have ta go through this shit ever again,” he laughed. Tseng smiled somewhat disconcertingly.

“You think not, do you?” he chuckled, and the redhead froze.

“Uh… what’s that s’posed to mean?” he asked, hesitantly, but his mentor merely shook his head, dismissively.

“Nothing. Just that there are occasions where additional evaluation is needed. For example… I myself will eventually go through such an examination as second in command. Not quite on the scale of Hell Week, of course, but it’s supposedly rather nerve-wracking nonetheless.”

Reno’s eyebrows rose in curiosity. “Oh, yeah? When’s that gonna happen?” he asked.

“I have no idea. And I won’t know until after the evaluation has already begun. It could be tomorrow, or a year from now. The timeframe isn’t as defined as it is for Hell Week. It will happen when Veld decides I’m ready for it… and… when he’s ready for it.”

“What’dya mean when he’s ready?” Reno queried, confused.

“The evaluation of a Second is meant to determine how prepared he or she is to take over as Commander. It does little good to conduct it too soon, before they’ve gained the necessary on the job experience. Similarly, it’s unwise to wait until the current commander is considering stepping down, as it would be difficult to address any serious issues with a retirement looming.”

“So… it’s like your final exam?”

Tseng laughed softly. “Yes, I suppose you could look at it like that…” he replied, and then quickly returned to the subject at hand. “In addition to Sykes’ exercise tonight, I also need you this afternoon, immediately after lunch. We’ll be going to the recruitment training facility to observe candidates for promotion. It will probably take at least an hour or two. Possibly longer, depending on how many candidates they have for us.”

Reno blinked in surprise. “A-already?” he stammered. Tseng had only just told him that he’d be helping out in that department. He hadn’t been expecting to have to give his opinion on potential rookies so soon.

“We’re shorthanded, and have been for far too long,” Tseng replied, “And with Sykes moving on to the next stage of his training, and Petra not that far behind him, now is as good a time as any to begin making our selections.”

“So… these guys could be joinin’ us like… tomorrow?” he asked, wide-eyed. But Tseng shook his head.

“Not quite that soon. Probably in another month or two… possibly not until after the Wutai reactor opening, as we’re going to be obscenely busy facilitating that event. Once we have our finalists, we’ll pull them for additional observation and testing before making our final choices. Veld wants at least two new Turks from the current crop of recruits.”

“… Um… Okay,” the redhead managed, still a little taken aback by the suddenness of all this. He still didn’t feel like he had any right to offer an opinion on who should or shouldn’t be a Turk. Hell, he wasn’t even sure what he ought to be looking for. No one had ever really told him much about the recruitment program and he hadn’t considered it important enough to ask about, beyond the very basics of how it worked. Tseng smiled reassuringly.

“Don’t overthink this. I’m not looking for an in-depth analysis. Just… observe the candidates and give me your first impressions.”

“… Right,” Reno said with a nod, “Got it.”

“Good. I’ll see you this afternoon, then,” Tseng said, and the redhead took that as his dismissal. Just in time, too… It was nearly time for the morning briefing, and as much as he would have liked to have stuck around to help out with additional Hell Week prep, Veld likely had other assignments for him to take care of while Tseng was busy torturing the rookie.

---

The lunch hour found the redhead picking unenthusiastically at his meal. Not that it was especially appetizing to begin with… the Shinra Cafeteria was back to their regular menu, and whatever improvements they’d seen from last week’s specials had fallen by the wayside. Rude had been expecting as much… which was why he’d opted to pack his own lunch today.

“What’s wrong now?” he asked with a sigh.

“Nothin’… I’m just nervous ’bout this whole observin’ the new recruits thing, ‘n you know I can’t fuckin’ eat when I’m nervous.”

Rude chuckled, shaking his head. His friend really was a walking contradiction at times. Exceedingly confident in a crisis where split second decisions could mean the difference between life and death, but let him stew about something for too long and, well… you ended up with this. Reno’s problem was that he occasionally saw too many possibilities. His ability to view a situation from so many different angles, to look at all the choices he could make and work out multiple possible outcomes, was one of his greatest strengths… as well as his biggest weakness. It made him a little neurotic at times.

“Why?” Rude asked. Sometimes all it took to snap him out of that mindset was the opportunity to talk through it with someone who could offer an outside perspective and maybe redirect his thought process a bit.

“‘Cause what business do I have pickin’ out new Turks?” Reno asked, looking up from his unfinished plate. He paused for a moment and then conceded, “Okay… maybe not actually pickin’ ’em. But the hell do I know about even havin’ an opinion on somethin’ like that?”

The bald Turk shrugged his shoulders, and reached into his lunch bag, pulling out one of his freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. He offered it to the redhead. Sure… he tended to lose his appetite when he was nervous, but Reno was seldom so preoccupied that he’d turn down chocolate.

“Nothing,” Rude said, “I think that’s the point. Tseng wants a fresh perspective.”

Reno gave a quiet laugh, recognizing the gesture for exactly what it was, and accepted the proffered treat.

“Yeah… I guess…” the younger Turk agreed, obligingly taking a bite. “I just… really don’t wanna fuck this up. I don’t want the Boss to start thinkin’ he’s makin’ a mistake givin’ me all these new responsibilities ‘n shit.”

“You think you can’t handle it?” Rude prodded, which earned him an indignant glare from the redhead.

“‘Course I can handle it!” he declared, and then deflated slightly, “… ‘least I think I can. I mean… the training shit, yeah. Definitely. The other stuff, though… It’s just really weird. I was the team screw-up for so long… ‘n now I’m not ‘n it’s kinda a lot to get used to.”

Rude snorted softly. “You were never the ‘team screw-up’,” he said, rolling his eyes, “You just occasionally made mistakes… like every rookie in the history of the Turks.”

The redhead looked over at him, somewhat incredulously. “Yeah? Tell that to Veld. We’re still on SOLDIER’s shitlist ’cause of me… And don’t even get me started on what happened during Hell Week.”

“Okay… so some of your screw-ups were pretty epic,” Rude chuckled, “That doesn’t make you a screw-up. Finish your cookie and then eat your lunch. The last thing Tseng needs is you fainting from hunger when you’re supposed to be observing recruits.”

Reno laughed softly and stuffed the remainder of the dessert into his mouth before he stabbed what the cafeteria staff had dubiously referred to as “pot roast”, and studied it intently.

“I dunno, man… Fainting from hunger might be better than takin’ a risk on today’s special. This shit looks a little questionable even to me.”

“Hmph… and that’s why I brought my own food to work,” Rude replied, laughing as he bit into the chicken salad sandwich he’d prepared that morning.

“Well… that’s certainly a ringing endorsement for Shinra’s cafeteria…” a voice off to Rude’s left stated, and both Turks turned in surprise to find Tseng standing at the end of their table. Reno was the first to recover.

“Okay, I know I’ve said it like a million times by now, but… you gotta teach me how you just appear outta thin air like that one of these days.”

“I’ll take it under consideration,” Tseng replied with a slight smirk. “I finished my preparations for the next exercise earlier than expected. I thought I’d rescue you from… whatever that is…” he continued with a nod towards the younger Turk’s plate, “and suggest that we find something to eat on our way across town instead.”

Reno gladly set the mystery meat back on his plate and shoved it away from himself.

“Ya know… I generally don’t like wastin’ food, but I’m not so sure that’s what this is. Where’d ya have in mind?”

Rude repressed a quiet snicker at the change in attitude. He’d been right. A little distraction from his own thoughts was all his friend had really needed.

---

It was a surprisingly drab building, all things considered. Set off in a lonely corner of Sector 8, surrounded by nondescript apartments and a handful of offices, the Shinra Recruitment Center was… not really what he’d been expecting. Though to be fair, he wasn’t really sure what he’d been expecting… just that it wasn’t this.

There was nothing particularly noteworthy about the place. It wasn’t run-down or anything… but it wasn’t exactly on the scale of the Shinra Building, either. It was just a boring warehouse-looking building plopped in the middle of what could easily been mistaken for just about any small residential area in Midgar.

“That’s it?” Reno asked, as they made their way up the front walkway. Tseng laughed softly and swiped his ID card in the reader at the door.

“Unless I’m very much mistaken, that was the exact same reaction you had the first time I escorted you into our offices…” he teased. Reno snickered quietly to himself. He didn’t doubt that Tseng was right about that. The Turk’s floor had been a little underwhelming at first glance… to the point he’d actually been kind of shocked by the sheer uninterestingness of it.

“Yeah, okay,” he chuckled, as they walked inside, “Fair point.”

A guard nodded at Tseng in recognition… and eyed the redhead with no small amount of suspicion before he apparently decided that if he was accompanying the Turks’ second in command, he didn’t present a threat to security.

“So… what all do they do here, anyway?” the younger Turk asked. The building was rather large; three stories high and easily occupying the space of four city blocks. He imagined that at lest some of it was dedicated to training halls and gun ranges, and the like… but there had to be more in here than just that.

“The first floor is largely training space. The second floor consists primarily of classrooms, workshops, and administrative offices. The third floor is the dormitories, lounge, and cafeteria,” Tseng replied, leading him through a set of glass double doors, and down a long, paneled hallway. They passed several additional doors off to each side, labeled with names such as Training Hall B, and Demonstration Arena, and Urban Obstacle Course. Reno pause briefly to peer inside of a few of them, but couldn’t really see much before having to hurry to catch up to his mentor.

“Dormitories?” he queried, “So… like… the recruits actually live here?”

Tseng nodded. “Some of them, yes. Shinra recruits from all over the planet. Obviously those we bring in need someplace to stay, even if only temporarily until they find accommodations of their own. And, of course, a few remain in-house until they’re promoted by one of the company divisions. I did so, myself, in fact.”

He opened a door marked “Observation Room 1” and ushered the redhead inside. A narrow set of stairs led up to a sort of balcony that overlooked a large room below. It was shielded from view by one-way glass, and the space was lined with a small set of stools at abutted a countertop that ran along the bottom of the window. Tseng took a seat and gestured for Reno to do that same.

It was almost like sitting at a bar… except, instead of looking at a collection of liquor bottles, the redhead found himself staring out across what what he belatedly realized must have been the Urban Obstacle Course they’d passed on the way in. It was like a tiny slice of a city down there. Sure, the “buildings” were just woodframe boxes and the “roads” looked like they were made from that same rubbery material they’d used on the running track back at the gym in the Shinra Building… but on the whole, it was a suitable stand-in for a city street. The area was even filled with things you might find around such a place in real life: dumpsters, park benches, a car or two… Lots of places to hide. Lots of things to climb or scramble over and around.

“The object is to procure the target flag by whatever means necessary and return it to the start as quickly as possible,” Tseng explained. Reno glanced down to the far end and spotted the aforementioned yellow flag, hanging from a simulated streetlight.

“Seems easy enough…” he shrugged, and his mentor chuckled.

“Now, perhaps. It’s not as simple as it looks. Things get decidedly more… intense… once the clock starts.” Tseng smiled knowingly. “In fact… I may have you run the course once the recruits have finished, just to see how well you handle it.”

Reno grinned widely. “I’ll run it if you do…”

The Wutaiian Turk cocked an eyebrow. “Are you challenging me to a race?”

“Loser buys dinner after we finish with Sykes for the day?” the redhead offered.

The door in the room below opened and a group of young men and women walked in, followed by two instructors in Shinra military uniforms. Tseng leaned forward, resting his elbows on top of the counter and steepling his fingers in front of him. He smiled slightly.

“Very well,” he replied, “On the condition that our little competition also serves as a demonstration for the recruits.”

Reno laughed. “You’re on, Boss. ‘Sides… you know I love an audience.”

~end chapter 36~