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Heidegger is as wildly incompetent as Tseng expects him to be.

The man doesn't care for the Turks. Every other word from his mouth revolves around his precious Army, and to fill the gaps in between singing their praises he insults the men whom Tseng has worked with for years. 'You will patrol the area, gyahahaha! Report back immediately if you notice anything suspicious, then I can send in my army!"

It is good practice for his temper to wordlessly endure the humiliation when he could have done otherwise, but Tseng knows that their ridiculous treatment is even harder for Veld to bear. He will keep silent for a thousand pointless missions if each one will push Veld the slightest bit closer to breaking point.

He wants his mentor to see precisely how the Turks will fare without his leadership. He will lift no finger to help if Veld does not realise that it is pointless to shoulder the burden for the mole in Shinra's executive board. It's evident in every call he makes on his PHS to Veld, voice tinged with deliberate need. 'I'm sure you can see everything that goes on in the company on those screens,' he murmurs into his mouthpiece. 'Please watch over us.'

It is fortunate that it is part of Tseng's plan not to lead. Underneath the carefully crafted exterior erected to prove to the world, Veld and himself that he can handle this crisis, Tseng believes quietly that he couldn't have directed his men if he had tried. Not in the way Veld can. Not in the way Veld wants him to be able to. Part of Tseng, as he makes call after desperate call to Veld's PHS following each of Heidegger's technical disasters, really is desperate for the return of Veld's reassuring presence a point and three steps in front of him.

Tseng waits for his mentor to make a move in this one-sided game of chess, wondering whether the sudden appearance of AVALANCHE - and therefore the need for Turk presence - in Junon of all places is more than just mere coincidence.

Whatever the case, the fact that Heidegger assigns him to the Junon Shinra Headquarters is definitely the machination of some god, or at least a man who thinks he is one.

'Tseng,' the tinny voice of one of a hundred anonymous operator's rings in his ear. 'The Vice President would like to see you in his rooms.'

'I am,' Tseng says placidly into his PHS, eyes roving the corridor, 'on duty.'

'The Vice President,' her voice breaks in the way one's does when fearing for her job, dignity and reputation, 'would like to see you /immediately/, sir.'

Tseng snaps the shell of his phone shut, unsurprised and genuinely irritated but obliged to comply. He makes his way up, a route he's taken many times before in a past where Rufus was still schooling and when Tseng still thought he could teach the Vice President anything.

He raps three times on the door, adjusting his tie. Rufus Shinra pulls it open himself; Tseng raises an eyebrow and feels strangely honoured by the show of temper. Rumours are that Rufus Shinra cannot be ruffled, but Tseng has seen more of Rufus than most see in a lifetime. Partly, Tseng considers, because he had been so blindly useful.

It gives him his first feeling of cold, beautiful power running through his veins to see how he now infuriates Rufus in return. Stepping in, he shuts the door behind him with no show of emotion. Tseng stands at ease and plays the part of the dumb subordinate, purposefully mocking.

'Why,' Rufus asks, voice trembling with anger as realises that Tseng is ignoring him, 'did you not accept the position as Director?'

'I am afraid I do not quite understand what you're asking me, sir,' Tseng murmurs, keeping his eyes away from Rufus' frigid blue ones and suppressing the urge to smile. He's fully willing to play child's play for child's play. Rufus can be petulant about what he wants but does not get. So can Tseng.

'You deliberately turned it down,' Rufus accuses, stepping demandingly into Tseng's space with a sixteen year old's anger at a toy which refuses to work properly. 'Why?'

'Wouldn't you think,' Tseng asks seriously, looking down at Rufus because he is taller and because he knows it drives the Vice President mad, 'that the judgement of an established executive is far more valuable than a field operative's?'

'Heidegger,' Rufus grounds out, eyes narrowing, 'is a fat, useless and irritating man.'

'Well,' Tseng says deferentially, voice light. 'I am glad that we agree on one thing.'

Tseng's blase attitude sets Rufus' mouth off. The Vice President will not be slighted. 'You are going to be the downfall of the Turks.'

Tseng steps forward until they're barely apart, his eyes narrowing to slits as he allows his voice to shift away from monotone into something softer, deadlier. 'No,' he says, low. 'I will not be the ruin of the Turks. The only ones who could bring us down are those who have no respect or interest in us. Veld was our undisputed leader because he is loyal to nothing else. Not to his own needs, or even those of his own /family/.'

Tseng knows how Veld raided his own hometown, razing Kalm to the ground and surrendering his wife and daughter to Hojo before relegating it to being a four inch thick folder in a Shinra archive. The man gave everything, and took nothing in return.

'It is lonely at the top, Rufus, sir,' Tseng says softly, eyes hard. 'How do you expect to ascend without us?'

'Are you,' Rufus exhales, 'threatening me?'

'I am,' Tseng states, 'offering you a chance to have the Turks on your side once more.'

'That's not loyalty,' Rufus says, because Rufus Shinra will have nothing less than a hundred percent dedication to he himself /alone/.

Tseng reaches forward and touches the black and white lapels of Rufus' coat with both his hands, slipping fingers beneath them and running his thumbs over the smooth fabric. 'Perhaps if you would stop thinking that, of loyalty, there is only one sort.'

The Vice President hesitates. 'Will you stand by me?'

Tseng lifts his head and looks directly at Rufus. 'Will you give me a reason to?'

-

When Tseng steps out of Rufus' rooms minutes later to encounter AVALANCHE resistance on all sides and Heidegger doing nothing but commanding them to "distract" a waves of forces until the Army arrives, he would have been gratified to realise that, in Midgar, the ex-Director of Administrative Research has approached the President with a statement beginning with "You know how much classified information I have on mind."

'Are you blackmailing me, Veld?' President Shinra asks. 'What are your demands?'

'To take command of the Turks.'

Like father, like son. Like mentor, like protege.