Turbines and Afterburners

"As years go by
I race the clock with you
But if you died right now
You know that I'd die too

You remind me of the times
When I knew who I was
But still the second hand will catch us
Like it always does

We made the same mistakes
Mistakes like friends do"

--Until I Die: Story of the Year

35.5 Years Before Meteor

The ship creaked in it's moorings at the base of the runway; ropes and chains anchoring the balloon to the gondola to the ground.
Behind it, aeroplanes sat, grounded, in regimented lines behind regimented men in uniform: ground crew, aircrew, pilots, drivers, troopers, Soldiers, Turks, that was where Vincent Valentine stood, straight backed, straight minded, eyes focused straight forwards, one of many, one of many with tense arms paranoid for the trigger, President ShinRa was here, and if their in-man was right, so were Avalanche, the newly formed terrorist group had already become a serious aggravation. As the red carpeted gangplank slid smoothly to the ground, Vincent's eyes slid over to Verdot, standing ahead of the Turks, he looked tired. The gangplank hit the ground and Vincent's eyes snapped back.

A man stood at the top of the road to the ground, dressed smartly in white, he stood erect, left hand clutching his cap against his chest, his right had a straight line against his forehead, behind him stood two of his crew, they too saluted as the President, his girlfriend –fiancée?- and his two personal guards emerged from the gondola. He was a young man, President ShinRa of the ShinRa electric company, barely into his mid thirties, but he was a rich young man, a powerful young man, already with his own small army, his own balloon. He was very important to Junon Naval Port, it's generals and captains and crewmen had been preparing for his arrival for weeks, if all was perfect, they might get a huge donation, though they already owed the ShinRa for their discovery of the ultimate energy source.

As the President stepped down the gangplank, the Captain of the SEC. Baron with his pilot and co-pilot stepped after him and they made their way down to the airport. Verdot, Heidegger, Palmer, all the important men of the company moved forwards, were greeted and returned pleasantries with their CEO, who cast a critical eye over both his own men and the governments'. Vincent knew this was a monumental day, but there is only so much one can take of a boastful blonde in a garish red suit that was constantly preening his golden hair and moustache, he was a very intelligent man certainly, businesswise at least, but Vincent was more interested in the people behind him.

The Captain, Vincent didn't know his name, was exchanging polite words with the ShinRa woman, she had very pretty blonde hair, not golden like the President, ashen, the same in fact, as the airman, maybe they were related, they certainly got on well together, from this viewpoint it at least seemed so. She, Jackie if he remembered correctly, was dressed in blue, he in uniform, not the typical blue of the Navy and Air-force, but white with gold and blue trim, ShinRa-Air, both man and woman had sky blue eyes, and while you could not call her beautiful, they were both certainly handsome in their own ways.

***

Vincent was glad when they could relax and return to their own pleasures until they were called upon next, and he was among the first to reach the city gates when they were dismissed. His heart sunk when he was halted by one of his fellows and informed that they were to stay on the ship as there had been rumours that Avalanche were infiltrating it and intended to assassinate the President on his way back to Midgar.

He broke away, and followed his own path around the ship, early on, and in his prowling found himself on the almost deserted bridge, two crewmen in dark blue and white were there, they looked annoyed and tired, but were still trying to look smart, they couldn't relax yet, their Captain was there. Vincent almost jumped when he saw him, not having expected to see him back so soon.

The Captain had jackrabbited, and had seen Vincent as soon as the Turks had seen him; he nodded in greeting, shot an almost hostile look his way, he didn't look surprised to see Vincent at all, but didn't come over to him. Vincent got the distinct impression that as he wasn't on home turf, it was his duty to go to the Captain, not the other way around, "you have no power here, Turks" the look had said. Vincent doubted the President had been treated likewise, still he found himself stepping to the bow-most end of the bridge, he and the Captain nodded politely to each other, and the Captain dismissed his men, telling them to rest before the flight to Midgar.

"So you're here to check my ship for traitors, hmn?" Vincent balked, mentally only, at the tone in the other's voice, it was a strong voice, but it was perhaps not as deep as Vincent had expected.
"No, not quite, I lay no blame on you or your men, but there maybe imposters on board," the Captain gave him another look, he wasn't able to decipher this one and instantly found the man even more interesting, he smiled tightly, a movement he was, and always would be, unused to, he offered his hand, "Vincent Valentine," he said, "I do hope I have not offended you at all," the airman's tanned face instantly brightened into a grin and he shook Vincent's hand firmly, "Captain Sidney Levine," he said, "Hay, you're just doing your job," he paused for a moment before dropping Vincent's hand, "I'd like to hear if you do find anything, or anyone, if possible."
"I believe that can be arranged."
Levine grinned again, he was older than Vincent had first thought, maybe mid or late forties, but shorter than Vincent, his cap was left by the helm and now Vincent could see the greying fringe and sideburns, he was still rather youthful however, "Thanks," he said, "Like to know when there's a problem with the crew," he said by way of explanation, Vincent blinked, something was… wrong, didn't he understand that the problem was not with his crew at all?
"So, I suppose you'll want to see the ship, right? I'll show you around."
"Thank you, but I suppose you'll need to be at the President's table for dinner and won't have time?"
"Bah, I've been at his table every night all week, I'm sure he'll survive without me," Vincent blinked again at the look in the man's eyes; they were more steely than before.

***

The sun had set an hour ago; the deck was illuminated by the floodlights around the port and as such odd shadows stretched across the tarmac.

Valentine and Levine stood side by side, leaning against the railings, it was a companionable silence, but there was a tension in the air, like a brewing thunderstorm. The evening had been peculiar: at first all had been fine, the tour of the ship had gone well, very well in fact, as Levine and Vincent had quickly discovered that despite their different personalities they got on very well and the Captain's running narration and Vincent's polite listening had swiftly deteriorated into in a two-way rambling conversation and they had continued as such through the twisting corridors of the ship, Vincent had stuck with his job however, and his sudden turn to sprint down a hall to pounce on one crewman had taken everyone present by surprise. Vincent could see Levine's expression of horror as the Turks challenged the man, then moved almost too quickly to see and drew and shot his gun; the crewman fell down dead, pistol skidding from his hand and across the floor. Vincent hadn't moved as Levine walked over, picked up the gun and reached past the body's jacket to his ID. Levine had snarled, and directed others to "clean up this mess" before stalking away.

"I'm sorry," Vincent said.
"Why?"

"Hah, you don't even know why you're apologising, do you?"
"You didn't say if his identification checked out or not."
"… He was one of mine, legit and all."
"I did have him checked; he was known to be Avalanche…"
"I know that!" Vincent didn't budge when the Captain turned on him, face inches from his own and flushed with anger, "Don't think I don't! But it's a reflection on the others! On the ship! On me! That we had him caught on board!" Vincent reached up and touched the man's shoulder, the Captain froze, eyebrows shooting up.
"Don't worry," Vincent said, "I shall do my best to make sure this does not damage your reputation, yours or your men's."
Levine sighed and hung his had, his own hand coming up to mirror Vincent's, he gripped the Turks shoulder firmly, and Vincent hung his own head so their rested forehead to forehead, they looked at each other from under their eyelashes and Vincent smiled nervously, "Do you trust me?"
"You're a Turks."
"No, then."
"I never said that!"
"So you do?"
"…" he looked down, "Others are being checked now…"
"Please trust me. I think I can make things turn out alright for you given a little time."
Sidney Levine looked up again, moving his head back, "No," he said softly, "It's too late for that," Vincent's gasp was stifled when the airman leant forwards quickly, kissed him on the corner of the mouth rather clumsily, "Thank you though," and hurried away into the ship, leaving Vincent, embarrassed and red, to find his own way off the ship.

It was six and half hours later, 0330 hours, give or take a few minutes, that Vincent heard, he'd been off duty at the time, sleeping, when the terrorists had broken into the hotel where President ShinRa had been staying, he'd just finished dinner, was drinking with his board members, when all of a sudden the room was full of screams and yells, and they were circled by six men in Baron uniform, their eyes were full of hate as their leader spoke: "There should be seven of us here today," they hadn't stood a chance though, and had all been shot down on sight, though only one had been killed. It was ShinRa business, no one outside knew, but the survivors were to be executed today, at 0500. One of Vincent's closer associates had awoken him to tell him, it seemed the President wanted words with the men sent to check for the Avalanche members, they hadn't done a good job, not at all…

The sea mist hadn't yet lifted from Junon, but in this yard behind the buildings, where only two windows overlooked, one blocked up the other with the President and his girlfriend behind it, the air was clear, though still damp and cold, the terrorists were at the far end, stood against the wall, their hands tied behind their backs, Vincent got there just as they were told to kneel down.

Vincent stepped into the yard, the two guards at the door remained looking nervous despite the ID he'd shown them, and froze at the sight of the men -some in the throws of despair, some still with defiance on their faces and one remaining proud- kneeling in their uniforms in the dirt of the pseudo-city, he swallowed, eyes darting over the five men awaiting death: four in blue, one in white. This group's leader looked round, blue eyes darted from the troopers and their rifles, the ShinRa men with the pistols at his men's sides, and looked piercingly at Vincent, a grim smiled appeared on his tired face and Vincent shivered, eyes widening further, head shaking in denial, "Any last words?" said the President's voice from overhead, one of the men cried out some abuse, the butt of the pistol clipped him about the head and he spat. Levine, if that was even his name, swore, loudly, that ShinRa would fall, and Avalanche would triumph. The President laughed, and after a moment, gave the word, the shots rung out almost simultaneously, Vincent's own body jerked and he tried to turn away too late.
Jackie screamed.

************************

0.5 Years Before Meteor

Vincent, along with the other members of Avalanche looked up as Cloud, Nanaki and Aerith returned, behind them, scowling and soaking wet, though for that matter they all were, was a newcomer, his head was down and he was trying desperately to light a sea-water saturated cigarette, he managed, it spat green and blue for a moment then died, he snarled and threw it to the ground just as they reached their temporarily estranged members.

Cloud introduced each of his friends in turn, then smiled nervously at them, "Um, this is Cid Highwind, we met him in Rocket Town," Vincent looked up, the man had stopped pulling odd expressions and his face, now that it was more relaxed, was the face of a thirty-odd year old man, the ex-Turks felt a shiver run up his spine, "He decided to join and help Avalanche in it's mission."
"Decide nothing!" he spat, "I didn't have much of a choice now, did I?" Vincent looked down at his boots as the man's piercing blue eyes scanned over them and focused on him and his odd appearance, by Planet but was he was similar to…
It was impossible that they could be related…
Right?
He risked another look, Highwind was turned away now, Tifa was interrogating him.
It was possible, he supposed.

"Cloud?" the warrior came over, "How old is he?"
"Hmn? Oh, I did know… thirty… two."
"Okay, thank you."

Too young then, Levine died thirty-five years ago, Vincent shook his head, just a coincidence he assured himself, and stood up to follow the others back to camp, he was deep in thought when a interrupting cough at his side made him look over and, grinning, the hauntingly familiar man stepped into time beside him, "Hay," he said, sticking out his hand, "Captain Cid Highwind, if ya didn't catch it before."
"Vincent Valentine," he said, and smiled a smile he still wasn't, and never would get, quite used to, he decided to venture a personal question, "If I may ask, who were your parents?"
Cid looked surprised, rightfully, at the question, "Well, my dad…" he smirked, "Good for nothing bastard," he shook his head, "I don't want to talk about, but-" his smile was back, "My ma was Jackie Levine, did you know her?"
Vincent nodded minutely, "Not personally," and looked away from Cid 'almost-a-ShinRa' Highwind, "It's good to meet you, Captain."