Dawn broke over the clear sky surrounding Narshe and watched over the three figures in the snow-covered field.
“Wedge, are you sure its safe to do this?”
“Aeris, I think he’s learned his lesson.” Wedge looked over to Lone Wolf, who was looking down at the rope that held him. “Lone Wolf!”
The thief looked up, his eyes drawn to Wedge’s.
“Turn around.” Lone Wolf did so. Wedge took a small pocketknife out of his pack at swiftly cut the bonds tying him in one stroke. The ropes fell around Lone Wolf’s feet.
“Sir?”
“The name is Wedge. As for you, you’re free to go. Remember what I told you.”
“Wedge. I will.”
“Go already! I don’t want to catch you doing any stealing anymore.”
Lone Wolf started to run, but stopped after about three yards. “Wedge!”
“Yes?”
“Next time we run into each other, I hope we meet as friends, not enemies.” Lone Wolf broke out into a full sprint, away from Narshe.
“So do I, Lone Wolf.”

Wedge and Horace stood by themselves in a glass elevator, watching the coastline of Junon descend.
“See, little brother! I’m about to be INTERVIEWED by the President himself! Oh, I’m so lucky! If he likes my style, I’ll get an even better position! I’m moving up!”
Wedge could not bring himself to focus on the situation at hand. He thought about what Biggs had told him about the reactor while they were at sea. Since then, Wedge had not seen Biggs, or even contacted him. There was also the mystery of the budget papers he had stamped with Horace’s seal. Something told Wedge that this was not going to be a regular reactor. “Yes, sir,” Wedge mumbled, answering his brother’s gloating.
The elevator bell rang. “What’s the matter, little guy? This is what our parents always wanted, right? I could get a huge promotion out of this, you know.”
Wedge stepped off the elevator. “Nothing’s wrong, sir.” Wedge lied. Though he was so close to what was trying to work for, he couldn’t keep his mind away from Biggs and the strange paperwork he signed.
“Don’t ‘nothing’ me! You’re not even thinking about the interview, are you? If you screw this up, I don’t know what’ll happen!”
Wedge put the questions out of his mind. “Yes, sir. I’m focused now, sir.”
The brothers walked down the hall, passing the doors of Shinra executive offices as they stepped into a large, wide room. The only prominent furniture in the room was a desk and two chairs on either side of the desk. The chair across from them swiveled to face them, revealing the old face of President Shinra. “Welcome, Palmers. Horace, you brought your brother. How thoughtful of you. Please, have a seat.”
Horace bowed and settled into the chair, leaving Wedge to stand at his side. “I am very honored that you have invited me for this interview, sir.”
“I’m sure, Horace. Now, I’ve been looking through your records and I’ve liked what I’ve seen so far. However...”
“Yes, sir?”
“You haven’t really been in any position to make important decisions in your career.”
“Sir?”
“If you are going to be one of my advisors, I would expect someone that would be able to apply some personal experience in the workplace.”
“Of course, sir.”
“The catch is, you can’t really advise if you don’t have the job, and to be an advisor, you have to have some experience in that field.”
“That is unfortunate, sir.”
“So, let’s find a loophole, then. I need a good soldier for a recently opened position in the Turks.”
“Really? What happened, sir?”
President Shinra took a few pictures out of his pocket. “This,” he said, holding up a man’s photograph, “was a Turk that became missing in action over a year ago. He was on a special assignment at Mount Nibel when we suddenly lost contact with him.” He put the picture away. “Since his disappearance, I have been personally screening our armies to find possible replacements. So far I have found only seven soldiers good enough to cover this position, but, one more could make that a nice even number.”
“Why would you need seven soldiers for one position?”
“Ah, I see you have some foresight when it comes to issues like these. Of course, I cannot take all of the candidates at once, Horace. I plan on finding which of these seven-” he paused, “-or potentially eight soldiers is the best by bringing them here.” President Shinra held up an aerial shot of some type of military camp. “This is the newly built Turk training facility, located on an island east of the ice continent.”
“It looks harsh, sir.”
“It’s supposed to be, Mr. Palmer. It will basically be a tournament. The soldiers face off against each other in a series of contests of strength and intelligence. Then, whoever comes out on top will be the next Turk.”
“Where do I come in, sir?”
“Do you know anyone who could be the eighth soldier I’m looking for? Anyone at all?”
Wedge shifted his weight for a moment, uneasy at what he had to do. Horace’s expression went blank; he didn’t really know anybody period, and couldn’t think of someone even when his promotion depended on it. This was his only chance to get Horace up on his pedestal and finally out of his life for good.
Wedge knelt and bowed his head to the carpet toward Horace. “Sir! I would be greatly honored if you would recommend me for this program!”
“You? Wedge Palmer?” Horace was confused by his brother’s quick thinking.
President Shinra liked the display Wedge put on. “Well, it seems like we have a new candidate, Horace.”
“What? Oh, yes, I was just about to say that. Yes, I recommend my brother, Wedge, sir.”
“Very well, then. If this man ends up to be a good choice, I would gladly bring you over to Midgar Headquarters.” He turned his attention to Wedge. “You may very well turn out to be better than I thought you were. You will leave tonight for the camp. Dismissed.”
Wedge stood up. “Yes, sir.”
The brothers left the office and were led in opposite directions by several of the President’s staff. Wedge did not look back as Horace was brought to the elevator. He was being led to the President’s personal helipad.

“What a beautiful morning, Wedge! Isn’t it pretty?”
Wedge looked up at the orange and pink beams of light cutting through the clouds. “It is certainly very colorful, Aeris.” Wedge stopped for a moment.
“What’s wrong, Wedge? Are you cold?”
Wedge looked down at his boots in the bright snow. “No, it’s just that this sunrise reminds me of someone.”
“Really? Who, Tifa?”
“No! Not Tifa. A...different person.”

Wedge woke up with a terrible headache and found that he wasn’t even in the building anymore. “What happened?” He looked around and saw that he was inside a tent with a dirt floor. His pack and clothes lay beside the cot he was sitting on. “I’m here already? That was quick.” Standing up and taking a good look at himself, he noticed that he was dressed in dirt colored pants and boots. He was also marked with a large eight on each of his bare shoulders.
The flap of the tent suddenly gave way to a dark form. A man in a dark sport coat strode into the tent, walking around Wedge. “Ah,” he said in a quiet voice, “you’re awake. That’s good, I like early risers.”
Sunlight flowed into the tent, reflecting from Wedge’s broad chest. “I take it you are also an early riser.”
“Hmm. Observant too. I already know your name, so it is common courtesy to tell you who I am. My name is Tseng.”
Wedge turned to face Tseng, who had come around to the opposite side of the cot. “So, you must be a Turk.”
“You prove me right again, Wedge Palmer. Of course, don’t be surprised if I’m the only one who bothers to learn names at this point.” Tseng pushed back a bit of stringy black hair from his face and looked at Wedge again. “You are number eight. And, a very good one, from what I see.” He continued to circle Wedge. “But, of course, it takes more than physique to become a Turk, you realize. Come.”
Wedge found himself following Tseng out of the tent and through a dry dirt field. “Where exactly are we going?”
“We are not going anywhere. I am going to awaken the last few soldiers and you are going to get over to that gate as soon as possible.” Tseng pointed to a large wooden arch in the distance. “Most of the recruits are already there. Move quickly.” Tseng rushed away, towards other tents, leaving Wedge to travel to the gathering of soldiers in the desert.
“What do I keep doing to myself? I go from being a regular soldier to Horace’s assistant, and now this! All in one week!” Wedge let out a sigh and wiped the sweat on his forehead. He also noticed that his bandanna was missing, but it was too late to go back for it.
“Hey, you! Slowpoke!” A familiar voice called out from the group. “Get over here!”
“Biggs! You’re here!” Wedge was relieved. He started running toward the group, which was now being joined by people running in from several directions.
“Easy there, big guy. Save your energy.” Biggs coaxed him out of running, and the two friends were reunited. Biggs had a large seven painted on his shoulder.
“What’s going on? I thought you were a goner.”
“They probably don’t know yet. I downloaded the sensor records someplace safe, so the evidence is with me. How have you been?”
“I’ve been worrying about you. It wasn’t like you to just suddenly disappear like that.”
“Yeah, well, I got an offer I couldn’t refuse,” Biggs told Wedge, turning to reveal several scars on his back. “I’m stuck here.”
Wedge wasn’t about to go into the details, but he told himself he would find out later. “What are we doing now?”
“Well, I’d say, that in about two minutes we are going to start running.”
“Running?”
“Yeah. The last four finishers are going to be eliminated from the contest.”
“It’s not a contest. They’re going to be looking for a new Turk.”
“Oh? Is that what it is? In any case, I can’t lose.”
“What? I though you wanted to get off this island.”
Biggs moved to the starting line and took his place among the others. “I don’t think I can afford to.”
“Can I have your attention, everyone?” Tseng called to the crowd. “This is not just a regular race. It’s more of an obstacle course. The path you will take will be through this field, over that hill, under the wire, over the wall of dirt, and through the mud. Then, take your flag and run back here. You may begin now!”
Taken by surprise, the entire group shifted and started running. Wedge charged forward, reminding himself what was at stake here. He quickly caught up with the rest of the group as they reached the hill. A brave soul tried to sneak around the hill, but fell through the ground, swallowed by a trap. Wedge hit the hill at full speed, scrambling up as he tripped over loose clumps of dirt. He reached out for something, anything he could grasp to regain his footing, and sent a another man to the bottom as Wedge grabbed his boot. Wedge shouted a quick apology to his unlikely victim and leapt to the bottom of the hill in a single bound.
Wedge quickly got back to his feet as he ran toward the barbed wire. Meanwhile, one of the soldiers had run up alongside Biggs, trying to trip him. Wedge saw this and quickly tackled the troublemaker, sending him to the ground, unconscious.
“Thanks!”
“Just get to the finish line!”
After making sure that the man he had flattened was still breathing, Wedge scrambled under the wire, wincing in pain as the sharp points cut into his unprotected back and arms. Ahead of him, he had already seen Biggs climb the wall, which was really more of a mound of soil with a rope attached. Ignoring the cuts on his back, Wedge got to his feet and ran to the rope. He pulled himself up the wall, half-climbing and half-repelling. He thought that he had a solid hold on the top of the wall, but the dirt under his left foot gave way, sending him rolling into a soldier. When he looked up, he was surprised to find that the soldier was a woman!
“Ow! Watch where you’re going!” She stood up and started running through the mud pool, her short-cropped blond hair flying behind her.
Wedge stumbled up and ran after her. “I’m sorry, but I just slipped. Are you okay?”
After his question, the woman seemed to run faster, running from Wedge. “Of course I’m fine. I don’t need sympathy from the likes of you!” She leaped out of the mud like a frog and went immediately into a full sprint toward the flags that were stuck in the ground. She wore the number two on her arm.
Suddenly, a blur flew over the group of flags and a man blocked the way, holding two flags in his hand. He was marked with a four on his carved shoulder, similar to everything else about his upper body. “Looking for something?” He waved the number two flag at the woman. “Well, you’re not getting this!”
The woman circled around the brute, forcing him to move backwards through the mud. “Either you give me that flag, or I pry it from your dead hands!”
“Strong words from someone like you!” He took the two flags and clubbed her in the stomach.
She only gave out a small grunt. “Is that the best you can do?” She flew through the air and connected a savage kick to the bully’s head, stunning him for a second. He quickly recovered, grabbing the woman and slinging her into the mud. She kicked out of the mud and prepared to charge-

-at empty space. One second, the man had been standing there, the next he was gone with a loud thud. The woman found him unconscious at the edge of the mud, with Wedge standing above him. Taking both flags from the fallen soldier, he muttered to himself. “The creep took my flag too.” He handed over the extra flag. “This must belong to you.”
She quickly snatched away the flag and ran. “You’d better get going!”
Wedge ran after her. “You’re welcome!”

Tseng met the winners at the finish line. “Very impressive, I must say. Well, what are your numbers?”
Biggs, who had finished first, answered with a salute. “Number seven, sir.”
The blonde Wedge had helped answered. “Number two, sir.”
“Hmm. It looks like you got yourself dirtier than you had to, Elena.”
“No thanks to this guy,” Elena said, pointing to Wedge.
Wedge was next in line, his massive chest caked with mud. “Number eight, sir. Besides, I apologized.”
“Hmm. I see.” Tseng looked around, not finding anyone else. “Well, you all did a great job. Report to the clinic for cleanup. I’ll stay here and wait for the last one to come.”
Elena walked somewhat slower that Wedge and Biggs did, but was following them.
Wedge was the first to speak. “That was hard.”
Biggs took a look at Wedge. He was muddy, scraped, cut, and sweaty. “I can tell. It looks like you took a lot of punishment today.”
“I gave more than I took, Biggs. Although I do feel sorry for the guy I pulled down.”
“Wedge, they would have done the same to you if they had the chance.”
“But, it was an accident. I didn’t even do it on purpose, the poor guy.”
“Wedge! Don’t go beating yourself up about this.” He gave Wedge a hard slap on the back, rekindling pain from the barbed wire cuts. Wedge yelled. “There will be three others waiting to do that for you tomorrow.”
Elena stayed behind as the friends entered the clinic building.
“There’s something strange about that man. He’s too...nice.”
Biggs and Wedge showered and found clean uniforms waiting for them when they got out.  “They must not have enough shirts here.” Biggs commented. “None of the men’s uniforms ever come with any. I’ll go look for some.”
“I don’t need one,” Wedge told him. “I need to work on my tan.”
“Suit yourself.” Biggs went into another room.
Wedge was about to leave when he heard a strange grunt coming from the medical room. Following the sound, he found Elena propping herself up onto a examining table, inspecting her injuries.
“You’re hurt,” Wedge told her.
“I know.”
“Like I said, I’m sorry.”
“I heard.”
Not satisfied that he had repaid his debt, he started foraging through the various cabinets. “That’s quite a gash he gave you. You two know each other?” Wedge took out some disinfectant and applied it to the wound with some clean cotton.
“That stings!” Elena had reflexively slapped Wedge’s face, but he decided to keep tending her wounds. Elena regretted that she did.
“That stings too, you know.” Wedge took the smarting from his cheek and kept looking at her wounds. “Your ankle’s swollen, your back is shredded, and you have some bruising on your calf, which I probably caused.” Wedge sprayed some disinfectant on the cuts on her back and quickly winced, expecting another slap. It never came. He found an instant cold pack, activated it, and gave it to her. She placed it gingerly on her ankle.
Elena was puzzled. “Why are you doing this for me? I told you, I didn’t need your help. I didn’t back then, and I don’t now.”
Wedge hesitated for a moment and turned his back to Elena, revealing his own cuts. “I don’t care if you need it or not. I can’t stand by and accept that I hurt someone that didn’t deserve it.” Wedge hit his head on the wall. “In fact, it doesn’t even matter if you’re grateful or not for my help. At least my conscience is clear. That’s the only thing I expect in return, and that’s why I’m trying to help.”
Elena didn’t know what to say to that. “You’re helping me, no matter what? I don’t get it. Regular men aren’t like that!”
“Then I’m not a regular man.”
Elena finally saw the truth in what Wedge was saying, but she couldn’t believe it. She ferociously grabbed his wrist and twisted his around to face her. “You stop this right now, okay? Now it’s my turn!” She pushed Wedge facedown onto the table. “I didn’t need your help, but you gave it to me anyway!”
Wedge didn’t move. “So you’re angry that I did? I told you-”
“You didn’t let me finish!” Elena pushed his head down into the table and looked into Wedge’s angry eyes with her own. “I took your help, but I’m not about to be outdone by any man! So, you helped me, and now I’ll help you!”
Wedge never moved. He was so confused, he didn’t want to. He bore the stings and the cold packs and the antiseptic while Elena grabbed him, moved him, sat him up, and cleaned him roughly but thoroughly. After she finished treating him, Wedge looked over at Elena. “Thanks.”
“Don’t. I won’t return it.” With that, she left.
Biggs returned to find Wedge cleaned up and sitting on the table, looking down at the floor. “What just happened, Wedge?”
“She thanked me.” Wedge hung his head and tried to put the pain out of his mind.

“Why does it remind you of someone, Wedge?” Aeris walked alongside Wedge as the walked toward the dawn.
“It blinds the eyes, but is beautiful, despite its roughness.”
Aeris looked doubtful. “Are you sure it’s not Tifa?”
“The person I’m thinking of is a lot like Tifa, but is also very different from her.”

Elena lied awake in her cot that night, thinking about Wedge. “Men are pigs, right? That’s what I was taught. But...he’s not. I can’t explain it. He plowed into me, sure, but he said he was sorry. He apologized, of all things. Why? Men don’t apologize! Well, at least, most men don’t apologize.
“Oh, great! And then look what I do! He offers to help, but I push him away! I was even lucky enough to have the one guy who would actually apologize to me fall right into my lap, and what do I do? I slap him when he tries to help.
“I’m so stupid! No one has ever done anything like that for me before, ever! I was such a jerk to him, and he kept helping! Arrrgh! He actually took my abuse! Is he just spineless or something?
“How can I even say that!? He tackled two men today to keep it a fair contest! He didn’t even know me, and he was protecting me! I am so stupid! I can’t even believe myself, what I did to that poor guy.
“He probably hates my guts now, after what I did to him, He was so resigned, he didn’t even try to run when I manhandled him. He just took it like...like..like a man. A real man. He cared about me, a woman he didn’t even know, competing with him in a race for one spot! What have I done now? He’s so sensitive. Maybe too sensitive.
“What am I saying? I’m complaining about a obviously strong man who cares about other people too much?! I must be delirious! And he’s probably laying in his cot right now, feeling rejected. He could even be so upset, he could cry right now. A man, crying over me? That couldn’t happen, but this man is different, right? He might actually like me. Oh, who am I kidding? Whatever he is, I screwed up.”
Elena was almost right about Wedge. He was also lying awake in his cot, reflecting on the events of the day.
“Why did she do that to me? I only hit her by accident. And I said I was sorry. But, she seemed so angry. Why? I was only trying to help. She seemed so dead set on separating herself from my help just because I was a man. Not that it’s not hard for her here, I’m sure it’s just as hard or harder for her here especially because she’s the only woman here, it’s just that she almost hated me.
“Hated me? She slapped me! But, being the crazy, selfless idiot I am, I kept going. Then, I turned my back to her. She probably thinks I’m a wimp. I go and bare all my weaknesses to women, and they forcibly tackle me. She’s going to take advantage of me someday.
“Wait, Wedge. Let’s not jump to conclusions here. Maybe she just had some bad experiences in her lifetime. I know I have. If she was mistreated as a child, she could have a lot of harbored anger toward people.
“Anger? I was angry at her when she ran away. I was angry at her when she scolded me after I apologized. I was angry at her when she slapped me. I was angry at her when she forced me onto the table and pressed my head. So why didn’t I run away and leave her?
“I cared about her, that’s why. I was doing the right thing. But why do I always make myself a martyr for everyone else?”
Wedge stopped at this. He knew the answer.
“I know why. I can’t do anything else. I just do the right thing.”
Wedge left the issue at that and left himself to his fate, while Elena went to sleep feeling sorry for Wedge.

“Wedge! Wedge, look!” Aeris pointed to a small cabin in the distance that shined in the early sunlight. “There’s someone there!”
“Are you sure we should even bother them this early, Aeris?”
“But look at the morning! Over here, there’s no snow and a great field to play in! It’s the beauty of nature! They have to see it!” Aeris dashed off toward the cabin, her pink dress flapping in the air behind her.
Wedge let out a small sigh. “Let’s hope these folks are friendlier than she was.”
 

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