Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Learning Curve Continuum ❯ Rocket Men ( Chapter 19 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Disclaimer: Definitely not mine; returned to Square Enix after being forced to sing along with the ‘Best of Elton John’.

A/N: Sorry for the long delay between updates – real life kinda kidnapped me for a while there.  Thanks very much for your patience, and the gentle pokes were much appreciated!  

I’ve always found it very strange that Cloud, who has the super-human strength of a SOLDIER, can’t possibly shift a chunk of debris without Shera’s help.  This version of the Rocket lacks artificial gravity, so expect shenanigans once outer space is reached, and I redesigned the interior of the escape pod to make it a little more claustrophobic.

Also, merrily re-assigning, re-organizing and re-purposing Original Game dialogue, plus tweaking details to fit with Dirge of Cerberus.

Shout-out to MomCalling: I suggested your idea for some, ahem, ‘hammock action’ to Muse!Cloud and received the most emphatic ‘Not interested!’ I’ve ever heard in return.  Guess that motion sickness really is a problem….

Warnings: Acute improbability, coarse language, violence, canon abuse.

Bouquets to my wonderful betas, Kitsune13/TamLin and Ranuel, who continue to make this fic a ton of fun to write!

Learning Curve Continuum
Chapter Nineteen: Rocket Men
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“Are we sure we shouldn’t stop them?”

Nanaki rubbed his chin on his foreleg.  “It is a plausible idea.  Simply because Scarlet was involved does not necessarily make it evil.”

“Says you,” Tifa practically hissed; I shot her a questioning look, but she ducked.  

We were lurking on a bluff overlooking the launch pad at Rocket Town.  The Highwind was tucked out of sight behind us, in a rocky basin barely wider than her main rotors.  Below us, ShinRa personnel swarmed around the rusty old rocket wreathed in exhaust gases, as a glowing boulder was awkwardly squeezed through a hatch.  “Looks like the count-down will be starting soon.”

“What about their souls?” Yuffie whimpered.

Barret frowned at her apparently out-of-the-blue remark.  “Souls?”

“What we learned at Cosmo Canyon – materia is made of condensed souls,” the teen whispered.  “That Huge Materia must contain thousands of people’s spirits that’ll never be reborn.  What about them?”

Nanaki nuzzled her cheek.  “I think they would be proud of this opportunity to defend the Planet, Yuffie-kun.”

“But you don’t think it’ll work,” she sniffled.

“I do not,” he admitted.  “Magic summoned Meteor, and I suspect that magic will be required to defeat it.  However, attempting to divert or destroy Meteor is a worthy endeavour, because if it does succeed, then we have one less problem to deal with.”

I leaned over and gently prodded Cid’s shoulder; the pilot was absolutely rigid, staring down at the hive of activity.  “You okay just watching?”

“They ain’t got a hope in hell of gettin’ that fucking thing anywhere near fucking Meteor without a competent pilot,” he snarled.  “The fucking systems weren’t programmed for a fucking unmanned launch – the fucking auto-pilot was only meant for fucking orbit.”  

“How wouldja get back?” Barret asked.

“An escape pod,” Cid answered, his entire attention focussed on the rocket.

His rocket.  The one he’d hoped to ride to the stars all those years ago.  I have no idea what possessed me, but after checking to make sure Tifa was busy fussing over Yuffie, I scooted closer and muttered in Cid’s ear, “Count me in the boarding party, Cap’n.”

He slanted me a look.  Shifting his cigarette to the other side of his mouth, he mumbled, “You sure?”  When I nodded, he hunched forward and cast an experienced eye over the number of potential opponents.  “We need a marksman.”

“Vincent,” we agreed in unison.  

I crab-walked backwards and then casually wandered over to the gunman, currently lounging in the shade of a rock.  Squatting beside him, I murmured, “Gonna make sure the rocket hits Meteor.  You in?”

He favoured me with a long, considering look, then nodded once; I eased my way back to Cid.  “How many seats in the escape pod?”

“It’ll be tight with three an’ yer big fucking sword.”   

“Then we’re good.”  As we stood up, I said, “Vincent, Cid and I are gonna see about that Huge Materia.  Barret and Cait, can you organize a distraction on the other side of the site?  The rest of you, wait on the Highwind so we can get the hell outta here on a moment’s notice.”

There was an instant, dismayed chorus, which I expected.  Tifa’s reaction – well, I wasn’t completely prepared for hers.  Her fearful expression made my heart twist up all funny; before she could say anything, I slipped my arm around her and cupped her cheek with my other hand.  “This is a chance to make Cid’s dream of going into space a reality, and maybe save the Planet, too.”

“But…!”  

“Cid’s not likely to get another chance,” I whispered, pressing my forehead against hers.  Her warm skin-scent was highly distracting and reminded me of how we’d started our day.  Snuggling and cuddling had led to her pyjama top unbuttoning and the sensations of skin on skin were highly arousing... except I’m not crazy enough to attempt anything requiring more movement than kissing in a hammock.   

Twisting handfuls of my sweater, Tifa just looked at me with those frightened eyes.  “It’ll be fine.  I trust Cid,” I murmured, even though I felt extremely guilty because she’d gone through so much to bring me back, and now I was taking off on her.  Cradling the back of her head, I pulled Tifa closer and kissed her thoroughly.  She clung to me, deepening the contact with almost desperate need… and not caring at all that we were giving everyone else quite a show.

Breaking the kiss, she pleaded, “I want to come with you.”

“There’s not enough room in the escape pod.  I’ll come back - I promise.”  Biting her lip, she looked close to tears; I kissed her once more, then handed her over to Yuffie and Nanaki.  “Look after my girl.”

Yuffie narrowed her eyes.  “You sure you need to do this?”

“Yes.  For Cid’s sake as much as the Planet’s.”

“Don’t screw up.”

“Not planning on it.”

The teen still looked doubtful, but a second after that, she was cracking my ribs with a ferocious hug.  “Jerk,” she muttered before she let go.    

A couple of minutes later, after Cid finished giving his First Officer some last-minute instructions, the three of us were skidding down the back side of the bluff.  As we sorted ourselves out at the bottom and headed towards the unsuspecting ShinRa employees, I muttered, “Non-lethal injuries only, okay?  They’re only doing their job – trying to save the Planet.”

“We’re on the same page, boss.  Most of these people are techs, not military,” Cid said, lighting a fresh cigarette.  Hefting his lance, he squinted against the sunlight and hissed, “Fuck.  Just saw a fucking Turk up by the capsule.”

“That means Rufus or one of his henchmen is here.”

“If it’s Scarlet, she’s mine,” Vincent abruptly growled.

“Why the sudden hate for the bimbo?” I asked.  Between Tifa’s reaction and now his, it made me wonder exactly what I’d missed while paddling in the Lifestream.  

“It is a matter of honour,” Vincent gravely replied, which of course only made me more curious, but a sudden barrage of gunfire that could only have come from Barret’s multiple barrels, overlaid by Cait’s megaphone ordering ‘all personnel’ to deal with a ‘security breach’ on the ‘west side’, caused an immediate scramble.  

In a matter of seconds, the crowd had dwindled by about a third.  Charging into the remainder, I batted people out of our path with the Buster Sword while Cid made horizontal sweeps with his lance.  We probably caused some spectacular bruising as well as twisted knees, but to my knowledge, we didn’t kill anyone.  Vincent emptied his magazines into the air over our heads; along with the element of surprise, it was enough to send the rest scuttling for cover among the crates and pipes.

Swatting aside the pair of troopers guarding the access ramp, we swarmed up the stairs.  On the platform above, an officer rallied his troops, but after the first guy was cold-cocked and the second chose to jump rather than attack, we encountered only light opposition.  So far, so good.  Scaling a very long, very rickety ladder that left us exposed to sniper fire – although no one fortunately took advantage of the opportunity - we made it to the gantry catwalk.  

“Where the hell’s that fucking Turk?” Cid demanded.  

On cue, a tall, bald-pated man wearing dark shades appeared out of the hatch, flanked by a pair of helmeted troopers.  “You again?” Rude grumbled, gesturing the guards forward.  “Can’t you just stay dead, Strife?”

Vincent shot the rifles out of the guards’ hands before they even had time to flick off the safeties; I rushed forward and smacked them with the flat of the blade.  Cid sprang over the groaning men and walloped the Turk across the knees with his lance, sending the big man tottering backwards.  A quick jab to the jaw with the butt end of the lance, and Rude was flat on his back.  Tossing aside his cigarette, Cid bellowed, “Fucking ShinRa – getcher fucking hands offa my rocket!” and dove into the open hatch; a second or two later, a dazed Second Class was tossed out onto the catwalk.

Vincent almost casually stuck out his foot and sent the stumbling SOLDIER sprawling on top of Rude as we entered the rocket proper and found the airlock empty.  On the far end of the platform, another squad of troopers tumbled off the access ladder and formed up; I hit the button and the hatch swished shut.  Dull red interior lights flicked on, illuminating the controls for the only inner door.  “After you,” Vincent rumbled, but I led with my sword as we stepped over the threshold and into a short corridor sealed by another door, which slid open to emit a cheery trio of crewmen.

“You with the captain?” one of them hailed.  “Better hustle!  He’s gettin’ ready for the count-down!”

“You guys leaving?” I asked.

“Yep!  Captain Cid told us to skedaddle, so we’re skedaddlin’!”

Bemused, we stood aside to let each other pass in the narrow space.  “Make sure you secure the airlock door before you open the hatch,” I said.  “Identify yourselves, too, because there’s some ShinRa troopers out there that aren’t too happy with us.”

“ShinRa’s always given the captain the short stick,” the second crewmen replied.  “Maybe they’ll think twice now that he’s gonna save the Planet by blowin’ up Meteor!”

“It’s gonna be so cool!” enthused the third.  “You guys are so lucky!”

Vincent loitered to make sure that the airlock door was secured; I didn’t hear any gun fire from outside, so hopefully the crew made it out alive when they came face-to-face with the trigger-happy troopers.  When Vincent gave the all-clear, I hit the release for the inner door and stepped into the command module, where I found Cid turning the air blue as he worked the control panel.

“Getcher asses strapped in!” he roared.  “They’re launchin’ the fucking thing!”

Vincent and I obeyed with alacrity.  Barely a second after I’d figured out how to clip the five-point harness, the capsule started shaking like it was trying to come apart... and guess where I’d left my supply of Tranquilizers?  In my knapsack, on the Highwind.  Damn.  Beside me, Cid cursed continuously as he spun various knobs and clicked buttons, staring hard at the readout array.  Finally, he stabbed a button and barked, “Tower!  What the fuck d’you think yer doin’?”

An unwelcome voice sing-songed, “Miss Shera ra-dioed that everything was rea-dy, so I lau-nched it!”

“Fuck you, Palmer,” Cid snarled, slapping the button.  “An’ damn Shera, too.  Boss!  Quit turnin’ green an’ grab ahold o’ those fucking controls!  See that red dot near the top o’ the screen, an’ the yellow square at the bottom?  Meteor’s the dot an’ we’re the square – aim at the dot as soon as the square turns green an’ the controls switch to manual.”

Wetting my dry lips, doing my best to ignore the roiling in my stomach and the way it felt like my skeleton was being vibrated right out of my skin, I focussed on the blinking yellow square.  Testing the controls, I found that they responded smoothly – not what I would have expected in an abandoned rocket.  Even the graphics on the screen looked suspiciously modern.  Glancing around at the meticulous interior, I commented, “Somebody’s been on top of the internal maintenance.”

Cid blinked and repeated my cursory inspection.  “Huh.  Can’t imagine who would’ve bothered.”

“Wasn’t this supposed to be an unmanned mission?”

“So we were led to believe,” Vincent dourly observed.

“Did we walk into a trap?” I mumbled, feeling nauseous and not entirely because of the rocket’s motion.  At that moment, the bone-rattling sensation abruptly ceased, the square turned green and the controls became responsive in my hands.  

“Whoo-hoo!  We made it, boys!”  Cid crowed, punching another button. “We’ll make one orbit of the Planet and slam into Meteor head-on.  Six degrees to port, boss.”  

“Port?”

“Eh?  Oh, yeah… that’d be ‘left’, fer you landlubbers.  Right is ‘starboard’.”  A gentle, but distinct bump somewhere behind us in the spacecraft had him cocking his head.  “Dammit!  Hope those morons properly secured that fucking Huge Materia!  Could knock us off the fucking target if it starts bouncin’ around in that fucking cargo bay!”

“I will check,” Vincent offered, unclipping his harness.

“Door 1-A.  Just make sure you got a good grip on the… uh-oh.  Zero gravity’s a bitch, eh, Vinnie?”  I followed Cid’s line of sight and couldn’t help grinning at the sight of Vincent bobbing upside down near the ceiling like a large, grumpy bat.  “Use the handholds to pull yourself around.”

“Prior warning would have been appreciated,” the discomfited gunman muttered, his hair and cloak floating around his head as he managed to catch hold of both his escaped gun and the nearest metal handle.  “Watch yourselves.”      

“Well, fuck.” Cid kept one eye on the errant Buster Sword as it lazily cart-wheeled above our heads.  “Better keep it away from the instrument panel, eh?  How’s my ol’ 26 handling?”

“The rocket?  Pretty good.”   

He nodded, punching more buttons.  “Once we bail, we’ll splash down in the Southern Ocean between Wutai an’ Mideel.  The Highwind’s tracking us right now.”  Cid peered closely at me.  “How’re ya feelin’, boss?  Yer lookin’ pretty perky.”

“I, er… fine,” I answered, considerably surprised to realize that he was right.

“Figured as much,” he chortled, clapping my shoulder.  “Give ya somethin’ ta concentrate on, an’ ya settle right down.”  For the next several minutes, Cid monitored the readouts and fed me course corrections as required.  “Should have a good view about now.”  Pressing another button, the main screen split in half.  “Wouldja look at that,” Cid breathed, and we stared in awed admiration at the pale blue Planet, a white-wrapped jewel set in the star-spangled velvety blackness of space.

“Beautiful,” I mumbled, distinctly unnerved by the fragility of our home.

“Worth fightin’ for,” the pilot declared.  “Hope the souls in the Huge Materia feel the same way.”

“I doubt that they would object,” Vincent said from behind us.  “We have a stowaway.”

“Eh?”  Cid spun around his chair, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw his lip curl.  “What the fuck are you doin’ here?”

“Monitoring the oxygen tanks, Captain,” Shera meekly replied; I kept my eyes on the screen, but easily imagined the woman defensively curling into a ball as she prepared for Cid’s verbal abuse.  He didn’t restrain himself.

“Goddamn fucking....”

“Why did you remain on board, Miss Shera?” Vincent asked, cutting off Cid’s tirade.

“I was worried about Tank No. 8,” she replied.  “Its valve is faulty.”

“Same goddamn reason you aborted the last fucking launch,” Cid snarled venomously.  “Why’d you let it go this time?”

“It’s a chance to save the Planet.”

As the pilot opened his mouth to launch another verbal assault, I spoke up.  “You did a great job cleaning up the Rocket.”

“Th-thank you, Mr. Strife.  How are the controls?”

“Real smooth.”

She appeared at my shoulder, positively beaming.   “I nearly pulled out my hair configuring the directional thrusters!”

Vincent inspected the spectacular view of the Planet visible on the screen.  “It resembles a materia,” he commented, before snagging the Buster Sword and sliding its hilt on an angle through one of the handholds and its tip through another, leaving it to clank gently against the ceiling.

Cid muttered something under his breath, but went back to his instrument array.  “Impact in ten minutes,” he announced.  “Auto-pilot engaging in five.”

“Oh, dear,” Shera mumbled, mopping her brow.  A droplet of sweat escaped and bobbled drunkenly in front of the screen.

“What’s up?” I asked, noting that the hellish glow of Meteor’s aura was now visible just above the curve of the Planet’s surface.

Shera wrung her hands, casting fearful glances at Cid.  “The escape pod’s release system hasn’t been upgraded,” she admitted.  “I’m not sure the clamps will disengage.”

“You knew that you might not be able to escape, but chose to remain on board anyways?”  Vincent queried.  

When Shera nodded, I realized the probable reason why she was risking her life. “You didn’t trust the auto-pilot either.”

“No.  We couldn’t fully automate the systems in the time ShinRa allotted to us, and this mission is too important to fail,” she replied.

“Damn woman,” Cid growled, but his tone was wry instead of menacing.  “Tryin’ ta be the fucking hero, eh?”

“Heroine,” Vincent blandly corrected.  “I believe she has earned the right.”

Shaking his head at the gunman, Cid asked, “How bad are the clamps?”

His less-aggressive attitude seemed to fluster Shera.  “I, um, had the worst of the rust brushed off and, er, the hinges greased, but I didn’t have time to test the release mechanisms.”

“Did you replace the explosive charges?”

“Er, yes.”

“Then we should be a-okay,” the pilot said.  “Ya might be fucking slow, but yer meticulous.”

Blushing scarlet, Shera stammered, “Th-thank you, Captain.”

Before Cid could reply, I exclaimed, “There it is!”  We contemplated the menacing grandeur of Meteor in awed silence for a few moments.

“It is inside the orbit of the moon,” Vincent observed.

“Yep.  Only two or three days until it hits.”  Checking the readouts, Cid announced, “Auto-pilot engaged - time to abandon ship, me hearties,” and unbuckled his straps.

I reluctantly let go of the now-locked controls and followed suit, not too thrilled about the potential of leaving a little trail of vomit-bubbles through the spacecraft.  My butt had barely left the seat when Vincent caught hold of my belt and pushed me in the direction of the Buster Sword.  Trying very hard not to flail at the sensation of being completely out of control, I managed to grab a handhold before bouncing off the wall and then freed the weapon from its impromptu brackets.  Vincent helped secure it to my harness before propelling me ahead of him as we followed Cid and Shera into the corridor.

Door 3-A whirled open, giving access to a passage that reminded me of the sewers below Don Corneo’s lair – just a great deal cleaner and better-lit.  It was fairly easy to negotiate; I pulled myself along using the handholds countersunk into the metal walls, Vincent quite literally on my heels.  At the end of the passage, I manoeuvred myself through a second iris-door – and found myself looking upside down at Cid and Shera, who were already strapped into half of the available seats in the ball-like pod.  

“Gimme your hand,” Cid genially directed and swung me across the small space.  “Watch yer sword.”

While I pulled the blade off my back with my free hand, Shera grabbed hold of my trouser leg and tugged me down into the seat beside her, holding on until I managed to fasten the straps.  Vincent made the manoeuvre look ridiculously elegant as he effortlessly swooped into the final seat next to Cid, who then released his straps to float overhead.  Bracing his feet on the bulkhead, the pilot secured the hatch, then pulled himself back into his seat.

“Keep that pig-sticker clear o’ the controls, boss,” he directed, flipping switches while Shera pressed buttons.  The pod abruptly came to life with a distinct hum; within a few seconds of the lights turning fully on, I felt less cold.  “Since we got ripped off by the Tower, let’s have us a little count-down now,” Cid suggested.

“Absolutely, Captain.”  Shera closely watched several readouts; when the numbers stopped spinning, she opened a circular cover and released a U-shaped handle.  Taking a firm grip on it, never taking her eyes from four blinking red lights, she began counting down.  When she reached ‘one’, she twisted the handle a quarter-turn and tersely announced, “Release clamp ignition sequence initiated.”  The pod vibrated as the lights turned yellow.  Giving the handle another quarter-turn, Shera murmured, “Firing charges… now.”  The trembling increased, and I swallowed hard.  

“Dammit.”  Cid’s quiet curse was shocking in its lack of volume, and it was plainly obvious what had caused it.  Three of the four lights on the console had turned a steady green… but one continued to flash bright yellow.  “Well, that fucking tears it.  One of the fucking clamps stuck.”

I’m fairly sure that everyone in the escape pod experienced the same stomach-turning panic at that moment… well, except maybe Vincent.  He merely folded his arms across his chest.  

Shera returned the handle to its previous position, counted to ten under her breath, then twisted it again.  Nothing happened; the light continued its jaundiced blinking.  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, slumping in her seat.  “I should’ve checked the charges more carefully.”

Cid reached across and gripped her hand.  “You did yer best,” he said, his voice cracking.

I stared blindly at the floor.  We had, at most, barely a minute or two to live before we were plunged into Meteor’s stony guts.  How the hell was I supposed to keep my promise to Tifa?  “Is there anything we can do?” I implored.

“Nope.”  Cid ran his hand through his hair.  “Sorry ‘bout all this.”

At that moment, we were thrown violently against the straps holding us in our seats, and then the pod began spinning at high speed.  The centrifugal force rammed the Buster Sword into my chest, pinning me back against the seat; I almost blacked out before the sickening motion stopped with another concussion-inducing change in direction, reversed itself for a few mercifully slow revolutions before finally stopping, with us more-or-less upright.

“I-Is everyone all r-right?” Cid quavered, his wobbly voice matching his green complexion.  “Shera!  Shera!”  The unconscious woman hung limply in her straps; I quickly cast Cure until she opened her eyes.  

“D-did the flight stabilizers finally work?” she weakly rasped, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

“What the hell you talkin’ about, woman?”  She made a twirling motion with her hand and Cid nodded.  “Seems so – it don’t feel like we’re inside o’ a washin’ machine any more.”

“Were they also responsible for freeing us from the rocket?” Vincent asked.

“N-no.  Something else knocked us loose,” Shera replied, regaining some of her composure.  Poking a button on the console, a cover slid back, revealing a small viewing window.  “Grab that joystick, Captain, and let’s have a look.”

Cid complied.  After an apologetic glance, he said, “Sorry, boss – yer too far away from the controls.”  I shrugged and concentrated on the window.  When we could finally see the rocket – and Meteor’s looming bulk beyond it – we were startled by the impressive plume of gas escaping from the fuselage.  “What the fucking hell...?” Cid began, then lapsed into unexpected silence.  After several moments, he finally mumbled, “Looks like you were right about Tank No. 8, Shera.”

“Lucky for us that it decided to fail now,” she calmly replied.

“Yeah,” he answered, smiling ruefully.  “We’d better get our asses out of range.”

“An excellent idea,” Vincent rumbled.  Shera pressed another button, and the pod shook.  

“What was that?” I asked.

“Just a small amount of thrust to put us back into the upper atmosphere where the Planet’s gravitational pull will do the rest.  The re-entry might be a little rough - how are you feeling, Mr. Strife?”

“Hope you have barf bags handy,” I replied with a weak attempt at a cocky grin.

Shera’s eyes twinkled behind her glasses.  “I do believe I have discovered an oversight in the equipment planning,” she deadpanned.

“Write it up in yer report,” Cid teased.

Her answering smile was tinged with sadness.  “You finally made it into orbit, Captain.  Congratulations.”

“It’s purty impressive,” he replied, gazing fixedly out the window.  After a long moment, he continued in a choked tone, “I’m glad that you were here, too.”

“Thank you, sir,” she murmured, her cheeks turning pink as she found the selection of blinking lights on the console completely absorbing.  Vincent coughed delicately into his gauntlet; the idea that the gunman might be snickering took my mind off my stomach for several minutes, until Shera said, “Exterior temperatures climbing.”

“Wish we had a few more minutes to admire the stars,” Cid sighed as the darkness outside faded to pearl-grey and then became tinged with pale orange.

“We’ll run out of oxygen if our entry is delayed by even a few seconds,” Shera crisply stated.

“A scientist all the way,” the pilot snorted.  “D’you have any romantic bones in yer body, woman?”

“Of course I do,” she retorted.  “But I’m more interested in keeping body and soul together – and our oxygen supplies are limited.”

“Fine,” he huffed, but there was no anger in his tone.  “Let’s go get wet.”

“Will the rocket’s impact on Meteor be visible?” Vincent asked.

At that moment, we were blinded by a blaze of white light flooding through the viewing window; then gravity reasserted its hold, and we were pinned in our seats by g-forces while being shaken like dice in a can.  It felt like my brains were being squeezed out of my ears.  

The pressure eased somewhat just after Shera announced, “Parachutes deployed,” in a voice that shook only slightly less than our vehicle.  

When I could finally see again, there was blue rushing up at us.  I barely processed that it was water before we hit, the impact driving us through the sunlit green all the way to the border of the fathomless depths before we stopped and slowly, very slowly, began rising back towards the light, life and air.

However, as soon as we bobbed to the surface, the pod began rolling unhindered in the waves, and the lack of barf bags became a distinct problem.  Cid shot me a warning look.  “Hang in there, boss – the Highwind’ll be here in no time an’ ya can heave into the scuppers to yer heart’s content.”  I nodded, keeping my mouth shut for fear of tempting fate.

Despite Cid’s assurance, it was several more minutes before something clunked on the hull of the pod and dragged noisily across its surface; I glimpsed a large cargo hook trailing across the viewing window before it snagged on something, and then we were being winched into the air.  Of course, this meant more spinning, like a ball on the end of a string, but it only lasted a few seconds before the pod landed with a thump on the deck of the Highwind and was somehow braced so we didn’t roll.

Cid and Shera unbuckled their straps.  “Th’ boss goes first,” he directed.  “Vinnie, help boost him out as soon as the hatch opens.”  Three sharp raps sounded, and Cid immediately stood up and spun the airlock wheel.  Pushing with all his strength, he cursed violently when it refused to budge.  “The edges of the metal skin musta fused on re-entry,” he grumbled.  “Hafta wait until th’ boys cut it open from the outside.”  

“We need air – give those handles a twist to open the emergency supply,” Shera directed, and the atmosphere became distinctly less thick.

Hammering instantly started and I concentrated on staying calm; I noticed that Cid and Shera were discreetly holding hands, her smaller one fully hidden inside his gloved paw.  The light from the window was blocked, and we looked up at Barret’s craggy mug.  His lips moved, and we all snorted at the stream of curses that were undoubtedly turning the outside air blue.  He either moved or was pushed aside, Yuffie peering worriedly at us.  Her face split into a huge grin and she said something to someone else, who a second later turned out to be Tifa.  I managed a sickly grin and a thumbs-up for her benefit; from her expression, I was either going to be kissed senseless or knocked senseless as soon as she got her hands on me.

Kissing won, thank Shiva.

An hour later, we watched the Escape Pod roll over the Highwind’s stern to land with a large splash in the tropical waters off the northernmost tip of Mideel.  Cid stood at the rail with his arm around Shera, watching as the pod rapidly sank out of sight; he seemed to be fine with the loss of this last memento of his space ambitions.  He’d made Shera blush and stammer by declaring that she’d saved all of us from ShinRa’s ‘fucking suicide mission’ and praising her technical know-how.  Yuffie and Vincent were standing near them, Vincent’s cloak streaming dramatically in the wind of our passage.  Barret and Nanaki had left off fussing over us to ‘keep an eye’ on the bridge, but I suspect it was more because it was distinctly chilly on deck.

Our course had been set for the Northern Crater, because Shera’s calculations on Meteor’s new entry trajectory had it heading straight for the capital.  Nanaki was right - we’d failed to stop Sephiroth’s Summon.  The rocket and its Huge Materia payload hadn’t disintegrated Meteor like we - and ShinRa - had hoped; instead, only the asteroid’s surface crust had fractured, leaving its core intact.  The massive chunks of crust were prevented from escaping by Meteor’s gravitational forces, so in effect, it had doubled in size.  The other bad news?  The explosion had accelerated Meteor, so impact was now expected within twenty-four hours.

Twenty-four hours to save the world.

Twenty-four hours to defeat the monster that had, either directly or indirectly, taken nearly everything that I held dear.

The exception being, of course, the beautiful girl currently in my arms, her breath warm on my throat, her long hair tickling over my bare skin.  Barret had no sooner grabbed my harness, hauled me up through the finally-open hatch and dropped me on the Highwind’s deck when Tifa was wrapped around me.  She took my breath away, in a very good way, and I made sure that she knew exactly how grateful I was to be able to hold her again.  Now, though, after we’d had the chance to realize the scope of our predicament, the mood was very different.

“I’m scared,” Tifa whispered, her words almost lost in the whipping wind.

“Me, too,” I replied, cuddling her closer.  

“Are you ready?”

“To face Sephiroth?”  I contemplated the distant horizon.  “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready, but I’ll do what I have to do.”

“I’ll be at your side,” she declared.  “You won’t be alone.”  The following kiss was sincere and oh-so-sweet, but just as it was turning deeper and more interesting, someone cleared their throat.  

Smirking broadly, knowing exactly what he’d interrupted, Cid said, “C’mon, kiddies – time to put our heads together and figure out how to cure the Planet of fucking Sephiroth.”

“You make him sound like a disease,” Yuffie complained.

“He is a disease – festerin’ inside this poor Planet and makin’ ‘er sick.  We’re the cure – just gotta figure out how to go about it.”

Cait Sith stuck his head around the side of the support column and beckoned.  “Auch, it’s cold out ‘ere!  Come below, lads and lassies – we ‘ave some news.”  

Slightly disgruntled by our make-out session being interrupted, I held Tifa back until the others had gone ahead – but while I pinned her up against the wall, she was the one who took things to the next level.  We were exploring each other’s mouths, her hands in my hair while mine were busy running over her curves, when she suddenly gripped my shoulders and hiked her legs around my waist.  Despite the layers of fabric between us, the suggestive contact instantly sent all the blood in my body rushing to my crotch and my knees went weak just as I really needed balance.  Breaking the kiss, I planted my feet and cupped her ass; once I was sure I wouldn’t drop her, I slowly ground my erection against her while nuzzling her throat.  Tifa moaned my name, and my arousal hit critical mass.

“We’d better stop, or I’m gonna have to take extreme measures to get rid of my hard-on before we rejoin the others,” I muttered, trying to control my breathing.

“What kind of ‘extreme measures’?” Tifa huskily inquired, her cheeks prettily flushed as she clung to my shoulders.

“Shoving an Ice materia down my shorts.”

She winced.  “The ultimate ‘blue balls’.”  Squirming in a manner not designed to help my situation, Tifa whispered, “I-I don’t m-mind if we use a more, um, pleasant method....”  It took me a couple of seconds, during which she blushed but continued to roll her hips in subtle invitation, to realize what she was offering.  

Gimme a break; all my blood was occupied elsewhere than my brain, so thinking was a challenge.  

“Hold that thought – at least until tonight,” I answered, softly kissing her on the mouth, and then all the potential ramifications sank in.  “Y-you really mean it?”

She blushed even more brightly, but nodded.  “Yes.  I-I don’t want to wait any more.”

Left unspoken was the looming holocaust in our immediate future which may have helped with the timing of the decision, but that didn’t matter.  “No hammocks.”

Tifa tittered nervously.  “I’ll think of something.”  She slowly unlocked her legs and I held on until she was again standing on her feet.  I rearranged myself and kissed her again, then we simply hugged until things had settled down.  However, we both had a bounce to our step as we descended into the bowels of the airship several minutes later.  

My motion sickness held off; after being trapped inside the Escape Pod, the Highwind seemed positively spacious and well-ventilated.  Traversing the catwalk over the engines, we joined the others in the cockpit.  Cait was sitting on one of the consoles, his heels tapping against the metal; from the glint in his eye, he knew exactly why we were the last ones to arrive.  

“Naow that we’re all ‘ere, I’mma tell ye what ShinRa’s up to,” the cat began, before abruptly switching to Reeve’s smooth tones.  “The city is in a panic,” he said.  “The Turks and the Security Department have lost control; martial law has been declared, for what it’s worth.”

“Marlene’s still safe with Elmyra, right?” Barret demanded.

“Yes, for the moment.”  Reeve sounded impossibly tired; I could almost picture him rubbing his hand over his face. “No place on the Planet will be safe if we fail.”

“What else?” I asked.

“ShinRa has decided to focus its efforts on destroying Sephiroth, and in order to bring down his barrier, Rufus had the Sister Ray brought from Junon.  It’s been mounted on the Upper Plate and plugged into the mako reactor network.  I’m supervising the final installation and calibration as we speak.”

“Hopefully it’ll be enough to punch a hole that we can fly through.”  Turning to Cid, I confirmed, “You can do that, right?”

“Piece o’ cake, boss.”

“If you can utilize me, Reeve, I will assist you.”  We all looked at Vincent, who shrugged.  “I was once a Turk,” he said, as if that explained everything.

Yuffie opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again.  “I’ll go, too!” she declared.  “Cid, you’ll drop us off?”

“Sure thing, kid – if Reeve wants ya.”

“I would be pleased to have both of you,” he answered.  “I was holding off ordering the full evacuation of the Upper Plate and the Slums – the sick, the elderly and children have already been shipped to Junon and Kalm - but I can move more people if I have reliable help.”

At that moment, the deck rocked beneath our feet, and we all grabbed for the nearest support.  “What the hell was that?” Cid roared as the glass panes in the nacelle rattled.

“A shockwave of some kind?” suggested one of the crew.  “The instruments are going crazy!”

“Reeve?”

“Lost th’ laddie,” Cait answered, patting his chest.  “Somethin’ big happened!”

“Sir!  An open distress call from Midgar!  A Weapon has been spotted!” shouted the radioman.  “They’re recalling all aerial units from the Northern Crater!”

“Yo, Cid!  Midgar needs help – let’s go!”

“So now ya wanna protect Midgar instead o’ blowin’ it up?” Cait Sith sneered.

Barret wheeled around, his dark eyes flashing.  “I wanted t’ make fucking ShinRa pay for the deaths of my family and friends in Corel, an’ the fucking mess they were makin’ o’ the Planet,” he growled.  Running his hand over his cropped hair, he admitted, “When we blew the reactor, I didn’t really think ‘bout the people who died – but I know better now, an’ I gotta make it up to ‘em.  I wanna help Cid protect this Planet an’ everyone on it – includin’ ShinRa employees.”

The toy doffed its crown and bowed.  “We’re all guilty o’ sins, but if we can save th’ Planet, mayhap our slates’ll be wiped clean.”

“It’s a good start,” Tifa said softly.

“Captain, the Weapon is crossing the strait between the Northern and Eastern Continents!”

“Awright, let’s get down to fucking business!” Cid crowed.  “Battle stations, ladies, gents an’ cats!  We got us a Weapon to kill!”

“Captain, you’re not planning on ramming it...?” one of the crewmen nervously asked.

“Naw – the ship can’t take another hit like that.”  Waving in my direction, he said, “That reminds me – picked up a little souvenir for ya, boss.  Give it to ya later.”  Grinning toothily, Cid added, “Time to pull out the big guns, boys!”  Barret immediately headed for the ammunition locker, while Vincent selected materia; I fidgeted.

“What’s wrong?” Tifa asked quietly.

“Not used to being the audience,” I muttered.

Yuffie was close enough to overhear; snorting, she tapped the materia in my Dragon Armlet. “Go cast some spells, since Vincent’ll be busy shooting things.”

Tifa’s confident smile was infectious, so I gave her a squeeze and Yuffie a cheeky grin before following Vincent and Barret back up on deck.  Cait Sith came, too; when I raised my eyebrows at him, he said, “I’m waitin’ for Reeve ta come back online – they’re gonna fire the Sister Ray real soon an’ we don’ wanta be in its path.”

“Shouldn’t you be on the bridge with Cid?”

“Imma patchin’ into th’ intercom from ‘ere.”

On cue, Cid’s raucous tones immediately came through the overhead deck intercom as well as Cait’s chest.  “Have a look offa the port bow, kiddies!”

“Ain’t that somethin’!” Barret exclaimed.  “They’ve grafted th’ fucking Sister Ray onto Midgar like th’ gun on my stump!”

“Amazing what they accomplished in only a matter of days,” Vincent murmured.  “Clearly, ShinRa’s power to mobilize resources remains uncontested.”

While I reluctantly admired the massive destructive capacity of the cannon, I also shuddered over the squat, menacing way it now completely dominated the city’s skyline, even more so than the bulky ShinRa Tower.  “Wonder how many people they evicted to build the emplacement?”

“At least an entire fucking Sector,” Barret said.  “Hope they got it bolted down tight, ‘cause the fucking recoil could rip up half the Plate.”

“The Weapon has reached the Eastern Continent!” shrilled an unfamiliar voice.

Cait scratched his ear.  “Reeve musta plugged me inta th’ ShinRa communications network.”

“Sightseein’s over, kiddies.  We’ll drop Vinnie an’ the kid off after we’ve dealt with the big-ass motherfu- er, sorry, Shera.”

Barret snickered.  “She’s gettin’ ‘im whipped inta shape already!”

As the Highwind sped over the Midgar Plain towards the coast, a myriad of black dots appeared on the horizon.  “ShinRa Air Fleet to starboard, on course for Midgar,” Cid proclaimed.  “Guess they’re leavin’ the Weapon to us.”

“Hey, Vincent – remember when th’ Weapon attacked Junon?  It didn’t go down until th’ Sister Ray took its head off.”

The gunslinger blinked slowly as he thought about an incident that I must’ve missed while I was in the Lifestream, then asked, “Where are you going with this, Barret?”

“Cait says they’re gonna fire th’ Sister Ray soon….”

“At the Northern Crater.”

“Yeah, an’ th’ trajectory is gonna have to be almos’ flat t’ reach that far, right?”

Vincent nodded.  “I do believe you’re onto something, Barret.”

I figured it out at the same time, and felt like smacking myself for not seeing the potential earlier; I used to be a fairly decent marksman when I served with the Security Department, but apparently I’d forgotten all my old rifle training.  Stooping to speak into Cait’s chest, I said, “Cid – calculate the co-ordinates that the Sister Ray is gonna have to use to hit the Northern Crater.”

“What’re you boys up to?”

“Killing two birds with one blast.  Reeve, if you can hear me, find a way to let us know when the Sister Ray will fire.”

“You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’, Spiky?”

“That if we can put the Weapon into the line of fire, the Sister Ray’ll do the job for us?”

“Atta boy, Spiky!” Barret said proudly; I caught myself blushing at his approval, like I really was his kid brother.

“Bearing 8.3 degrees, north-north-east,” Cid said.  “Ahoy, there’s our target… gotta move the big lug about six degrees to the east.”

“We don’t have a compass out here – what’s that mean in terms of distance?” I requested, watching as we drew closer to the lumbering Weapon and its full size became apparent.  “Are they all this big?”

“Oh, yeah – you missed the others, on account you was under the influence,” Barret chortled.

Shera broke in.  “Cloud - the Weapon has to be moved about six hundred feet to the right.”

“Grab onta something, boys – gonna see if the Highwind can herd it,” Cid exclaimed.

I tucked Cait Sith under my arm and gripped the railing as the deck tilted alarmingly under my boots.  We circled the Weapon twice before the Highwind cut sharply in front of it, so close that I could almost reach out and touch the creature’s massive arm.  Two immensely wide shoulder projections dwarfed its head, its back was protected by a two-piece flared carapace, and it waddled on massive claws.

As we pulled away, the Weapon belched some kind of energy weapon at us, but the sizzling ball missed us by a mile; however, I had the distinct feeling that we wouldn’t be so lucky the next time, because its glowing eyes held an uncanny intelligence.

“I’m gonna try ticklin’ its toes with my bullets,” Barret announced.  “That fucking shell’s got way too many deflective surfaces.”  

“I’ll go for the head,” Vincent said, but he had no sooner drawn a bead when the Highwind went into a climb.

“Seems the fucker can read our minds!” Cid bellowed.  “Look – he’s headin’ the right way!”

Nanaki came on the intercom.  “If Sephiroth has confused the Weapons enough to make them think that protecting him is the same as protecting the Planet, this one will either directly attack Midgar to put the Sister Ray out of commission – or failing that, somehow stop the blast from reaching the Northern Crater.”

“We’re gettin’ the hell outta the fucking way, no matter what,” Cid declared.

A grating feminine laugh suddenly shrilled out of Cait Sith, and Vincent bared his teeth; some day, I was gonna drag out of him why Scarlet caused such a reaction.  “The Sister Ray is ready, Mr. President.  You may fire at any time!”

The lumbering colossus hastened across the plain before swinging around to face in a southerly direction.  Planting its clawed feet, it thrust out its chest; plates parted or swung upwards, including the huge shoulder projections.  They opened up like clam shells, revealing dozens of ports, and then the Weapon seemed to be collecting energy out of the very air.

“Fire.” Rufus’ cool drawl made him sound almost bored.

Barret started counting under his breath; about fifteen seconds after Rufus’ order, we clearly heard the sound of shattering glass and tearing metal over the intercom.  “Tol’ ya,” the big man grunted.  “One helluva recoil!”

“Cap’n – take us higher!” Cait Sith squeaked.  “The shockwave from th’ Sister Ray’s strike is goin’ ta be huge!”

“Hang onta yer fur, kitty!”

We almost missed the launch of the Weapon’s rapid-fire attack because the Highwind was banking in the opposite direction, but the bright cloud of multiple projectiles heading towards the horizon was fairly obvious.  I know I was holding my breath to see what would happen – would they collide with the Sister Ray’s beam and explode?  Our higher altitude allowed us to see the brilliant green-tinted bolt of light streaking from the direction of Midgar… and watch as it passed through the cloud without any noticeable effect.

For a split-second, the Weapon stayed upright as the Sister Ray’s beam collided with its chest, then it was lifted into the air as the bolt drilled right through it, before being thrown heavily to the earth as the energy continued its way north.  A second after that, the Highwind was tossed around like a leaf in a typhoon by the shockwave; I honestly don’t know how Cid kept her in the air, never mind how we didn’t lose anyone overboard.  My lunch was another matter altogether.  

“Sir!  Weapon has been defeated!” crackled out of Cait Sith as the ShinRa operator passed on the good news just as the Highwind regained her equilibrium.  “The barrier around the Northern Crater has fallen!”  I wondered later if Rufus had time to congratulate himself before the next crisis arrived.  “Sir! A mass of high-density energy is heading towards Midgar!”  In the background, klaxons started wailing… and then the violent sounds of a massive explosion made it all too clear that the ShinRa Tower had taken heavy damage.

“Everyone on deck still there?” Cid asked cautiously.

“Present an’ accounted fer,” Barret answered gruffly.  

“I need a fucking cup of tea,” the pilot groused.  “Come below.”

“Make that a cup o’ tea an’ a shot o’ booze,” the big man suggested.

“I’ll drink to that,” Vincent added, which caused a few double-takes among the rest of us.

We’d barely made it down the stairs to the main deck before we heard a strained-sounding Reeve speaking through the static.  “The reactor output is increasing all by itself.”

“What?  That’s not good!” Scarlet shrieked.  “It needs to cool for three hours between firings!  Shut it down!”

“Don’t you think we’ve tried?  The controls were switched over to mainframe operation, and we can’t bypass them.  I have people working on it….”

“That’ll take too long!  If the Sister Ray’s reactor overloads, it’ll make the Sector One explosion look like a damp squib!”

“Mr. Heidegger, sir!  We have a report that Professor Hojo has locked himself in the Sister Ray’s fire-control centre!”

“What should we do?” Heidegger blustered.

“Whatever it takes to save the city!” Reeve snapped.  

“Who do you think you are, giving orders?” Scarlet hissed.  “When the President hears about this….”

“Spare me the lecture,” Reeve growled.  “Right now, we have to stop Hojo!  Patch me through to the control centre!”

The static thickened, then suddenly, we could hear Hojo; I know my hackles went up, and I’m willing to bet Vincent’s were even more impressive.  

There was maniacal cackling, and then the scientist purred, “Just you wait, Sephiroth – I’ll give you all the mako you need!”

“Professor Hojo?  You must stop at once!  Midgar will be destroyed if you continue!” Reeve was plainly struggling to keep his temper under control.

“Bah!  One or two Midgars is a small price to pay for my most magnificent experiment to come to fruition!”

“Your… experiment?”

“Sephiroth – my glorious son!  He will move beyond the boundaries of science!”

While Sephiroth’s parentage was apparently news to Reeve, the rest of us exchanged tense glances.  Barret bellowed in the direction of the cockpit, “Cid!  Open the throttles!  Professor Crazy-Ass is tryin’ ta blow up Midgar!”

“Who was that?” came Scarlet’s sharp voice, and we realized that the channel had become two-way as Cait gripped his crown in both hands and did a panicky little dance.

“We’re on our way, Reeve,” I said, trying to sound confident.  “Can you cut the reactor’s fuel supply?”

“No.  Even if we somehow could block the flow of mako to the reactors, we still have to vent the built-up energy in the cannon itself… and I’ll bet Hojo has already done something to stop us.”

“Hang tight.  We’ll be there shortly.”

“You hear that, you two?  Cloud Strife and his team are on their way – don’t even think of interfering.”

Heidegger and Scarlet’s brash chorus set my teeth on edge.  “Allow those terrorists free reign in Midgar?  You can’t be serious!” Scarlet chortled.

“The Security Department will stop Hojo and the terrorists,” Heidegger wheezed.  “I’m taking control of the situation – guards!  Take this traitor to the brig!”

“Go ahead, Heidegger – give it your best shot,” I snarled.  “But I’m warning you - if Reeve comes to any harm, you’ll regret it.”

“Come at me, Strife!  I’ll enjoy having another crack at you,” he sneered.

“Heidegger!  Let’s use my new weapon!” Scarlet giggled.

“I’m sorry, everyone,” Reeve whispered.

“Don’t apologize.  You’ve done the Planet a tremendous service,” I said.

Vincent leaned in.  “I will free you,” he promised.  “The city still needs to be evacuated, despite these idiots and their posturing.”

A burst of static and an oath were the last we heard from Reeve.  “He’ll be okay,” Barret said, awkwardly patting Cait’s drooping shoulder.

“They will regret it if they do him any harm,” Vincent rumbled, cracking open his gun for reloading.

“Gitcher asses in here an’ tell us what the fuck’s goin’ on!” Cid demanded. “We’ve reached Midgar.”

“How close can you get us to the Sister Ray?” I asked, crossing the catwalk to where he glowered in the cockpit doorway.

He shifted his unlit cigarette to the other side of his mouth.  “Lemme see if I can clear off some o’ this fucking aerial congestion first.  They’re flittin’ around like fucking drunken butterflies out there.”  Stomping over to the radioman, he said, “Open the military communication channels – all of ‘em.”

“Yes, sir!”  

While switches were flipped and dials set, I rejoined Tifa, who hugged me tightly enough to bruise.  I kissed the crown of her head and just held her, feeling very much like this was the calm before the storm.

Clearing his throat, Cid paused for a moment, then barked, “Attention all units - the Sister Ray has been hijacked by hostile forces which intend to blow up Midgar.  All units stand clear of the Sister Ray so the Highwind can land a tactical assault squad!  Repeat, all units stand clear!”

The ether crackled.  “This is Major Kinnock of Mobile Assault Squadron Six.  Under whose authority have these orders been issued?”

Vincent swiftly crossed the floor and took the microphone.  “The Department of Administrative Research.”

There was a pause.  “The Turks?  Yes, sir!  All units, fall back!”

“Tell ‘em not to go too far,” Cid muttered.  “They can make themselves useful evacuatin’ civilians.”

While Vincent passed on the suggestion, curtly phrased as an order, I beckoned to Nanaki.  “Time for a little payback for Professor Hojo.”

He bared his teeth in a fangy grin.  “I look forward to it.”

“I’m coming, too!” Tifa exclaimed, but I shook my head.

“This is between me, Nanaki, Vincent and Hojo.  It’s personal.”  

“Scarlet and Heidegger are gunning for you,” she protested, clenching her fists.  “I have a score to settle with that witch!”

“Some day, you and Vincent are going to tell me exactly why you both hate her so much,” I said, then watched Tifa turn several interesting shades of red.

“Okay, boss – the coast is clear!  Move fast, before somebody with a scarier reputation than the fucking Turks countermands the order!”

“Can you put us down on the cannon itself?”

“Are you fucking kiddin’ me, boss?  I can land this bird on a gil if I have to!”

“Vincent, Nanaki – you’re with me.  Yuffie, stand by to assist Vincent with rescuing Reeve.”

“What if… you fail?” Tifa whispered.

“We’ll all be blown to fucking kingdom come,” Cid answered shortly.  “That’d be twice in one fucking day, an’ I don’t fancy it, so make sure you squash this asshole, boss.”

“Here – you might need this.” Yuffie handed me the case of Phoenix Down; as I shoved it into my pocket, I gave her a tight smile.

Tifa let me kiss her, but it was obvious that later I’d be making up for leaving her behind – again.  When I drew back, she was biting her lip, her eyes downcast, and I mentally kicked myself.  “It’s almost over,” I murmured.

“Be careful,” she pleaded.

“Always.”  Kissing her fingertips, I held her worried gaze for a moment longer before reluctantly letting go.  Retrieving my sword, I slapped it onto my back and turned to the others.  “Vincent, Nanaki - let’s mosey.”

 









&nb sp; 


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