Day Eight

Cid glared at the inn's phone in front of him like it was responsible for all his problems. Really, all he had to do was pick up the damn handset and make a call. Some damn phone call that would make him sound like some damn fucking loony, that is. How the hell was he supposed to tell Barret not to trust Shinra and to keep an eye out for AVALANCHE without sounding like some blithering bandersnatch? "Hello, I'm your friend from the future, and I'm here to tell you your town will be wiped off the map soon?"

He sighed. Barret had to be warned, and even if he didn't believe Cid, it might make him more cautious of Shinra. He picked up the handset and stabbed in the numbers. Before the phone could even ring, a pale hand plucked the phone from his grasp and set it abruptly back in its cradle.

Cid glowered, outraged. "What the hell, Vincent?!" Despite his anger, he kept his voice down. The phone was in a corner of the inn's common room, and though a wooden wall provided some poor inkling of privacy, it was a fuckin' public spot for an argument.

Vincent was quiet too. "You should not use phones. Shinra controls the communications grid."

Cid processed that. "Crap. You mean those assholes listen to phone calls?"

Vincent shrugged eloquently.

Cid swore again, several times. "Well then, what in Hel should I do? Write him a damned letter?"

"That may be inadvisable. Shinra now runs the courier service, correct?"

"Yeah… but there's still private couriers, too. Shinra's service doesn't bother with the little towns more'n every couple a' months. A letter, huh? I think I can make that work."

Cid returned to the room. Zack and Cloud were out training again, and Vincent, warning delivered just in time, had probably gone back to watching the truck. Cid dragged the wooden table closer to the window so he'd have plenty of light. He had a pen filched from beside the phone, and a pad of paper borrowed from the innkeeper. He wrote Barret in the guise of a history buff, saying that he'd discovered the remains of an ancient Cetran airship, and while investigating, had discovered an oilfield at the same location. In return for the coordinates, Cid wanted help digging out the airship. The field, which Barret had discovered in Cid's future, was a good fifty miles from where Shinra was building the Corel reactor, and if this worked, a good portion of Corel's residents would temporarily move to the new location. The coal miners would switch over to drilling for oil, something that was less dangerous than mining, and with the size of the oil fields, they'd be able to compete against Shinra. This advice would put a big ol' target on Barret's back, but Cid figured that with the disruption caused by Hojo's death and the destruction of the Nibelheim lab, plus the drama that was bound to be stirred up here at the launch, Shinra would have its hands full for a while. Once the launch was over, Cid would head over to Corel and see what help he could provide.

He read the letter over to himself. It seemed pretty damn convincing to him. He had high hopes for Barret following through on it. Next, he wrote a letter to Nanaki, over in Cosmo Canyon, warning the cat to be cautious of Shinra. Cid'd already made sure Hojo died in the fire, and, damn, but he would have liked to stay and watch the rat-turd bastard burn, but Hojo wasn't Shinra's only mad scientist. Red might still be a target. With luck, this warning would help his friend stay safe. The imminent disasters now taken care of, he could focus his attention on the launch and AVALANCHE.

Fourth Day of Freedom

Zack closed his eyes and turned his face up to the sun, feeling its warmth. He could hear the grass whispering around him, the rustling of Cloud's clothing as he finished his exercises, even the scurrying of small animals, busy with their ground-level lives. He could smell the mellow scent of baking earth, and the breeze carried the tang of oil from Rocket Town. He bent and plucked a grass blade, popping the end of it in his mouth to chew.

All his senses were back in working order again, better than they had been before the lab, even. But every morning, when he woke up, he dreaded finding himself back in Nibelheim, the last few days just a pleasant hallucination. He chomped down hard on the grass stem. This is real, he told himself. And whether it was or not, it was simply better to believe that.

Zack turned to Cloud. The two of them had already run through a routine of stretches and exercises back at the inn, almost just for the joy of being able to move around again. Out here, away from the increasing crowds, they could let loose and really see what they were capable of. Yesterday they'd spent in footraces, hand to hand sparring and going through katas, taking turns with the Buster Sword. Today, Cloud would be working with the new katana Rory had given him. The blade was a lot smaller and lighter than what Zack was used to wielding, so teaching Cloud how to use it was going to be interesting.

"Well, let's get this show on the road. Hey, Cloud." He waited for his friend to approach before continuing. "Ever use a katana before?" Cloud shook his head. "Alright. Well, they're one sided, so in that respect they're more like the buster sword than the broadswords you used in the past. But there's a pretty big difference which I know you've noticed, so moving right along. The Buster is all about strength. Yoshiyuki needs to be wielded with finesse. Katanas are meant to be wielded with two hands. You can fight with only one, but you lose the grace." Even as he said it, he thought of Sephiroth, holding Masamune one-handed, like it was nothing. From the look on Cloud's face, he'd had the same thought. "So, fighting stance," Zack ordered, too brisk, trying to move on quickly.

Cloud dropped down into a deep stance, lowering his center of gravity. However, as soon as he was down, he grimaced and came up just a little. The weight of the blade controlled how deep the stance needed to be. Used to practicing with the Buster, the first stance had been overkill for a light blade like Yoshiyuki. He gripped the hilt in the right way, though. It wasn't too different from a buster's hilt, and Cloud always had been a quick study.

"All right, so, again, finesse. Push and pull. Push with one hand, pull with the other. See how the blade kinda dances? The Buster can do that too, it's just so big, it doesn't look the same. Buster-style swords are meant more for hack and slash. This one, I don't know… more of a slice and slash, I guess."

Zack stood back and watched as Cloud got himself familiarized with the blade before instructing him to run through the same kata they'd been practicing yesterday. They continued like that for some time, Cloud running through different katas with Zack doing squats, offering helpful tips and making corrections. Cloud's balance was still a little off, striking too fast or too hard, but overall, he was getting better.

Cloud's newly enhanced strength was causing the kid all sorts of problems. When they'd been digging the well, Zack had been worried Cloud might break the shovel, seeing the wood begin to splinter under a too firm grip. Or he'd put too much power behind it, and the shovel would sink into the ground, like a hot knife through butter, causing Cloud to lose his balance. Then Cloud would overcompensate, and the shovel would slip in too weak a grip, or he'd be overly cautious and get barely any dirt on the blade.

It was because of this see-sawing in Cloud's control that Zack didn't feel comfortable sparring against him with live metal. He had plenty of bruises from the hand-to-hand practice yesterday. Then again, putting all the blame for his bruising on Cloud was a little unfair. There was a slight increase to Zack's own abilities, but his muscles still felt sluggish, and his reaction time was still under par. They'd been in the tanks or on the table for almost one and a half years, with no chance of moving around and stretching, so he was rather out of shape.

"Zack?" Cloud's voice was hoarse, and he was prone to long pauses while speaking, a lingering remnant of the mako poisoning. Zack cursed Hojo's twisted soul. The man was nothing more than a charred corpse rotting at the bottom of a collapsed staircase, and even that was too good for him. He stood from a squat and tilted his head inquiringly. "Yeah, what's up?"

"Last night… at dinner. Rory and Marie, they…. " Cloud broke off and looked away, to the empty horizon. "They didn't know that Nibelheim had burned… and Cid said that Shinra had rebuilt it… and filled it with actors… and… well… why? Why would they do that?" The plea was angry, anguished, and desperate. The worst bit was, there was no good answer.

Shinra had bombed Banora into a hole in the ground. They hadn't bothered to rebuild it the way they had with Nibelheim, and Banora had been a lot less isolated than Cloud's hometown. There was a common thread in what had happened to both towns - high profile SOLDIER goes nuts, kills everybody - but no link at all in Shinra's responses. The biggest difference in the situations that Zack could think of was the level of media attention given to Sephiroth, SOLDIER's poster boy. Everything related to Genesis's attacks had been spun and respun by Shinra's PR and legal departments. According to the press releases, Banora's destruction had been caused by a terrorist attack. No mention of Genesis at all, and not enough people had cared to dig deeper to make the company fret. In Sephiroth's case, the guy had barely been able to leave HQ without a news van rolling up. Sephiroth's fan club was so creepily attentive, they knew what type of shampoo he used.

Shinra was good at cover stories. Zack didn't know what official "explanation" had ever been given for Sephiroth's disappearance, but apparently the company had decided that, for Nibelheim, the best explanation was not having to give an explanation at all. If the media or the General's fans had ever gone there to investigate, they either hadn't found anything, or Shinra had squashed their findings. And what the hell kinda answer was that to give Cloud? Sorry, but the company we both idolized for years cares more about preserving its public image than ever admitting its errors? Zack had known that for a long while now, deep in his gut, but for Cloud….

It was just barely possible that Hojo had tortured them for his own ends, and that Shinra hadn't know what was really going on. They'd talked about that occasionally in the lab, in the early days, when it was still possible to carry on longer conversations. It was desperate even then, a forlorn hope that somebody would come find them, get them out. Kunsel, Cissnei, somebody. It had been a distraction for Zack, something to talk about to get their minds off things. After a while, when it got harder to talk, he'd given up hope on any outside source of deliverance. Cloud, though, had probably kept hoping it, just a little, little bit. The younger man was self-reliant, sure, but he believed in things. From his own experience, Zack knew it took a lot to take the shine off the fantasy image of SOLDIER and Shinra that the company marketed.

When Cid had told them what had happened in his own timeline, he'd also removed any lingering doubts about Shinra's approval of Hojo's projects. All the same, Rory and Marie's ignorance of what happened in Nibelheim was like a punch to the gut, given how large it loomed in Zack's memories. It had to be ten times worse for Cloud.

"Sorry. I don't know," he sighed. The skin around Cloud's eyes was looking greenish, and he was still staring unhappily at the horizon. Zack turned away, scratching his head. "Probably because it was the General that-," he paused. Burned? Slaughtered? Neither of those captured the totality of what Sephiroth had done. "The General that destroyed the town. Shinra… I guess it just wanted to avoid any possible bad press." Cloud frowned, anger drawing his brows together. "I mean, even the launch is a publicity stunt so, umm…. Yeah." Zack finished lamely.

An awkward silence settled between them. Cloud's brows furled in thought as he turned back to the katas, while Zack pulled the Buster off his back, falling into his own routine. They continued like that for some time before Cloud spoke up again.

"What do you plan to do after all this, Zack?"

What did he plan? Nothing really. He hadn't thought that far in advance yet. Go back to Gongaga to see his parents, then Midgar to see Aerith, and while he was there, try to find Tifa and make sure she was okay, but past that? Nothing. "Haven't really thought about it. How 'bout you, any plans?"

"No, no plans."

"Hmm, looks like we'll have to come up with something then."

"We?"

"Huh? Well… Yeah, we're friends, aren't we? We'll stick together."

Cloud lowered the katana, smiling and shyly delighted. Zack startled, then smiled back, as huge as he could manage. That was the first smile that had reached Cloud's eyes in a long, long time.

"Yeah…. Friends."

Day Nine

It was the noise that woke Cid. A dull roar, like the sea. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. The room was dim, with pale light leaking in around the shutters. The boys were already up. He groaned as he swung his legs out of bed and stood. Various joints and muscles protested, and he glared sourly at Zack, who was absentmindedly doing squats by the door. "What the hell's all the noise out there?" Cid growled, scratching.

Cloud replied. "The audience." He opened the shutters and gestured into the street. The alley below was clogged with people. Cid noticed that there were stalls set up, hawking toy rockets and pre-packaged "astronaut food". He grinned. He'd hated that goddamn freeze-dried, turd-tasting menu. The one and only good thing about the Space Program's nearly permanent hiatus was he'd never been forced to actually live on that crap.

They stayed inside that morning. This close to the launch, Shinra was on full alert. The last fucking thing they needed was for Cloud to run into some trooper he'd known from way back when, or for some pickpocket to get too curious about the quality of the materia Cid was wearing. At noon, Cid slipped out to check in with Vincent, who was still keeping an eye on Jenova. As he approached their truck, he saw it wasn't alone any more. Parked next to it was a tiny hatchback on one side, and on the other, a large canvas-covered truck like a troop transport. A man dressed in dusty green and brown with goggles hanging around his neck was leaning up against the canvas, cigarette in hand.

Damn. Of all possible places, AVALANCHE had to park right next to them. Cid swore internally, and greeted the man. "Afternoon. Nice fuckin' day, ain't it."

The man glared at him suspiciously, before nodding back silently.

"I like your idea. Don't mind if I join ya, do ya?" The man turned away pointedly. Cid didn't bother waiting for a reply. He leaned up against his own truck, took the cigarette behind his ear down and lit up. "Like I said, nice day, but too many damn people hogging up the place; inn's fucking choked with the cushion-footed gawkers. Came out here for some damn peace and fucking quiet."

The man turned his head to glare exasperatedly, as if he thought that was enough to make Cid go away. The guy had nothing on Vincent's glares and most of those had lost their effect on Cid long ago.

Ignoring the man, he continued to ramble on. "So, ya here for No. 26's launch? I am, along with some of my friends. Really looking forward to seeing it go up. Man, it must be fucking amazing seeing Gaia from space." Cid grinned at the memory. "Too bad they ain't giving any damn tours of the rocket before it goes up. Must be something, standing in the core of history. Wonder if I could sneak on for a peek."

By this point the guy was looking kind of twitchy. Cid figured he might as well point that out to the man.

"What's the matter? Ya look sorta nervy. Oh fuck, yeah, I get it. Yer planning something like that yourself, ain't ya? Well, no worries. I won't tell anyone, might just fuckin' follow ya though. So how the hell do ya think you'll get in with all the guards and media swarming all over the rocket?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," the man all but growled.

Cid gave the man a feral grin. "Sure you don't, Mr. AVALANCHE."

"What the!? Shit!" The guy whirled to face him fully and pulled a small hand gun from his jacket pocket. There was a faint click, and Cid's grin grew. Damn, back-up was a fucking nice thing to have. The man was frozen in place, the barrel of Vincent's gun pressed to the back of his head. Slowly, the man raised his hands, the pistol falling to the ground. Vincent kicked it towards Cid, who scooped it up.

"Ya know," Cid said conversationally, examining the gun, "you SOBs should really think about getting a new uniform." His tone sobered. "So how do you miserable shitbags plan to get into the rocket?" That was one thing he had never been able to figure out, and it was the one thing stopping him from punching Jenova's ticket off the Planet.

The man sneered silently. Vincent moved forward, sliding the gun to the man's temple, just above the eye. The man snarled. "Go ahead and kill me, you Shinra bastard. I won't tell you bloodsuckers anything."

"Nitwit," Cid sighed. "Did I say I was from fucking Shinra? Do I look like a fucking Turk? Stop being so damn dramatic, ya stupid bagrisk, and listen up. My friends and I need to put something on the rocket. Now I know you fuckers are gonna sneak on to mess things up so it fails, but unfortunately for you, I need the damn thing up in space. So you got a choice: tell me how to get on now, or I'll just have ta try following your dumb friends on board, and probably fuck up, and bring Shinra's Gaia-damned wrath down on everybody involved."

"Well, I see an easy way around that. We'll just kill you now, and save Shinra the trouble." A woman's voice slid into the conversation.

Well, crap. A young woman, a man in a bandana and three other AVALANCHE operatives stood across from them. Shit, shit, double shit.

"Look, first fucking shot fired here and we're all screwed. Shinra will come running like a bunch of corpse crawlers over a logarithm carcass. So, maybe we can talk this out. I need on the rocket; you fucks want on the rocket. Let's see if we can cut a deal and help each other," Cid bargained.

"Why do you want to get on?" the lady questioned.

"When that rocket goes up, the only thing coming back down is the pilot. That's all you need to know."

The woman was silent for a moment, mulling it over. "You intend to get rid of something." One of the terrorists behind her muttered, "Or commit the world's strangest suicide."

"And what the fuck do you intend to do?" Cid asked.

"That is none of your business."

"If it's got anything to do with the damn launch, it is my ruttin' fucking business."

"Why blast something into space when you could just destroy it?"

"That's none of your damn business… though," Cid chuckled, "when those damn over-stuffed ahrimans at Shinra find out, they'll be shitting like a malboro with food poisoning. Damn, they might already, after the shit I've pulled this week."

By this point Cid was full out laughing, making the members of AVALANCHE give him odd looks, but he didn't care. Hojo was dead and the lab destroyed. With Jenova missing, Shinra's bigwigs were probably running themselves in circles. If they ever found out Jenova had been on the rocket, ha! He'd want to see their faces if they ever did. Calming down, Cid looked at his audience thoughtfully. Best not to count his chocobos until they hatched. "As long as you fuckers don't get in my way, I'll ignore ya, since you jackasses don't seem too keen on helpin' me."

"The same warning goes to you and your friend. Now, release Geno."

After a tense moment Vincent lowered his gun and moved to stand beside Cid. The members of AVALANCHE loaded into their vehicle, one or another keeping keen eyes on Cid and Vincent until the truck roared to life and drove away. Cid flipped them off grumpily. "Well, that could have gone better." Still, they were alive, no small thing when dealing with an organization as unhinged as AVALANCHE, and Shinra wasn't breathing down their necks, either.

"We should move the truck."

"Yeah. You're damned right, before they come sniffing back round. But where the hell to?"

"In plain sight."

"And what the fuck makes you think that's a bright move?" Cid turned to the gunman, slack-jawed in disbelief at such a stupid suggestion. Vincent gave him a slightly disdainful glance.

"Some large tour buses arrived earlier. They are far enough away from the launch site that Shinra has minimal security in the area. Many of the bus's passengers are using the vehicles as sleeping quarters, and AVALANCHE will stay clear of an area where so many people are coming and going." For a quiet man, when Vincent got going he sure as hell could talk a lot.

Cid nodded. "Makes sense. I'll drive over, drop ya off, and you stay hidden with the truck while I fucking rack my brain to figure out how to get this damn bitch on the blasted rocket." Yeah, that was going to be a lot of fucking fun.

Day Ten

Even after thinking for a whole day, Cid still had no feasible plan to get Jenova onto No. 26, and it made his disposition, already a long way from naturally sunny, exceedingly unpleasant. He was stressed out and well past grumpy, so when Zack suggested he come spar with them, Cid nearly chewed his head off. After the explosion, Cloud suggested, quietly, that coming out and hitting stuff might be good for him, and Cid, panting, had agreed. The three of them were making their way in the just-barely-dawn light past the house Cid's younger counterpart lived in when Cid spotted the AVALANCHE operative he had threatened yesterday sneaking over the fence.

"That son of a bitch," he cursed. "Come on, that asswipe is gonna try to steal the Tiny Bronco."

Without waiting for his companions he chased after the man. Why was the shit trying to steal it now? Last time, the fucks had tried to steal it after the airshow rehearsal, not before.

"Wait! What's the Tiny Bronco?" Zack asked, catching up in moments.

"It's the best damn small plane in the whole fucking world," he shot back.

Cutting round the corner of the house he saw the man sneaking up to his plane! Er… his younger self's plane. Even if it wasn't technically his, it was still his, and how dare that fucker mess with it.

"Stop it right there, you miserable gibber-faced parasite!" he bellowed.

The man whirled, drawing a gun. In the same heartbeat, Cid leveled Venus Gospel at him, and the two swordsmen flanked the intruder. Snarling, Cid informed the out-numbered man, "Don't even try it, you fish-eyed ass goblin, you're fucking out classed."

"You lying bastard. You said you wouldn't get in our way." The AVALANCHE member hissed back.

"Yeah, as long as your useless ass didn't get in mine, and guess what. It just fucking did."

The man opened fire then, but Cid had fought against people with far better aim than this fucking nitwit. Rushing forward, he bought his spear up under the man's hands, so he'd either have to drop his gun or lose an arm. Wisely, the man chose to drop his gun. Less wisely, as he stumbled backwards he pulled out a grenade from under his jacket. He pulled the pin and lobbed it at them. Zack stepped forward and used the broad side of the buster sword as a bat, slamming the grenade out to explode over the prairie.

While Zack went for the grenade, Cloud had gone for a slash at the man's outstretched arm, severing it from his body. Howling in pain, the terrorist fell to the ground cradling the stump of his right arm.

"You've lost already," the man cried. "The rocket will fail, the president will die and Shinra will fall! I'll go to the lifestream knowing my life was not in vain. I-" The man's rant was cut short by Venus Gospel in his chest.

"In a different lifetime, you'd be right. Not this time. At least not on one count," Cid murmured as he withdrew his spear.

"Hey!" A angry shout from the house had the three turning. A blond man in his early thirties, metal spear in one hand was running out to them.

"What the hell is going on out here?" The man demanded. "And where the hell is the damned security?"

Cid stepped forward. If anybody knew how to handle his younger self, it was his older self. "Sorry about the mess out here," Cid gestured to the body slowly dissolving into the lifestream behind him. "I took the town tour yesterday and they pointed out this being your house. I'm a big fan of yours, the battle of Karura, you saved a lot of people that day with your flying. Read all about it in the paper. Damn, look at this old man ramblin'! Anyway the boys and I wanted to go for a walk before the damn crowds got up, see. I spotted this ass-wipe sneaking around back of your place. Now I've gotten into a few scuffles with AVALANCHE in my time, so I recognized the damn uniform. So, I follow him round and see the bastard trying to make off with the Bronco. Now, I know it's yours, not just cause the house but cause I've been to a lot of air shows, recognize that beauty any where. Couldn't just fucking stand there and do nothin'. I try to fucking talk to the guy and the fucking numbskull goes and pulls a damn gun and the rest as they fucking say is fucking history."

All ace pilots are prima donnas and Cid knew he'd been one of them. Strutting around like he owned the world when he knew jack-shit. Still, if you wanted something from a prima donna all you had to do was butter them up. Damned nitwits. Some folks said if they went back in time they'd give their younger selves a hug, and some said they'd punch 'em. Cid preferred the latter.

"That so?" the astronaut eyed the last of the green particles vanishing in the air. "Guess I'm in your debt. The Tiny Bronco's my partner. Would have been horrible if anything happened to her."

"No problem. Guy had it coming to him. Folks that fucking dramatic don't live too long."

After that, introductions were made and the trio was invited to tour the No. 26 rocket as thanks for stopping the theft.

"Actually, if I could, I'd rather ask for a favor instead," Cid said, feeling a little uncomfortable.

"Instead of seeing the rocket?!" The young astronaut was incredulous. "That's a stupid decision but alright, whatcha want?"

"Well it's the longest story you'll ever hear, and we don't have the time. In a nutshell, I found a damn nasty parasite that has the fucking potential to wipe all life off this Gaia-forsaken planet. I got it contained and now I need to get rid of it. Trying to destroy it without parts of it getting away is damn near impossible, so that brings me here. Can you take that fucking thing into space and ditch it there?"

For a moment the younger Cid looked stunned, glancing back and forth at the three men in front of him.

"No kidding'? You ain't pulling my leg or something?" he asked.

To Cid's surprise Cloud spoke up, anger and pain clear in his voice.

"It's because of that thing my whole village is dead."

"A friend of mine fell to it… so did my mentor," Zack added.

The grief in both their words and posture was so evident that even a person who was blind and deaf would feel it.

Scratching the back of his head the astronaut sighed. "Look, I'd like to help you and I agree that something needs to be done with a bug like that, but the launch goes up tomorrow mornin'. I wouldn't be able to get the authorization for something like that in time. You know how bureaucracy is."

"Then don't get it authorized," Cid grinned. "I could say I'm from the Science Department, dress these two up as SOLDIER, you act as though you've known about us coming to… I dunno… install some last minute experiment on board. If we all act like we know our shit, no one should bother us. Audacity is a great infiltration technique, least according to my friend."

A hint of suspicion crept into the younger man's expression. "You got a friend that does infiltration?"

Cid din't miss a beat. "Yeah, she had to sneak into some pervert's mansion to rescue a friend. She got all dolled up, made another friend dress like a girl so she'd have some company. Got in, got what they needed, got out. Audacity worked for them. Should work for us."

Sixth Day of Freedom

They'd told Vincent the plan, and the ex-turk vanished for an hour and a half, before turning up with a pair of stolen SOLDIER 2nd Class uniforms and helmets. Zack adjusted the left shoulder guard into place, grateful that Vincent had procured a uniform that actually fit. He'd also brought along a lab coat for Cid, and a cheap instant camera lifted from a tourist. He was currently jury-rigging a badge for Cid with a hastily snapped photo while Zack, Cloud, and Cid put a new tarp on the truck, another present from Vincent. This one featured the Shinra logo on the sides.

After the last adjustments were made, with Jenova's tank well-wrapped and hidden by the previous canvas tarp, the group was ready. Zack drove. A newly clean-shaven Cid sat in the passenger seat, and Cloud and Vincent in the back. They pulled up to the security perimeter, and Zack rolled down the window. "Delivery for Cid Highwind," he said confidently. The troopers glanced at each other, and one pulled out a clipboard. He ran a finger down the page, and said "No packages were expected. Do you have clearance to enter?"

"You're late!" Someone yelled. Zack craned out the window to see, keeping his face solemn with an effort as the younger Cid steamed red-faced across the broad dusty field. He'd hit his cue perfectly. Who knew such a blunt and foul-mouthed guy could be such a thespian? "The fucking rocket goes up tomorrow, you dung-beetle-brained clods! You were supposed to be here a week ago!" He arrived, panting, and the troopers snapped into respectful salutes.

"Sorry, sir," said Zack. "The Science Department's been a little… disorganized recently."

"Fuck your excuses!" Cid barked. "We're behind schedule here, and it's your bloody fault! Get a move on!"

"Yes, sir!" Zack saluted, waved jauntily at the the troopers, and pulled up to the far side of the rocket.

"We're not fucking late, it hasn't gone up yet," the older Cid growled, sliding out. "You two!" he snapped at a trio of nearby troopers. They looked up from the hoses they were coiling. "C'mere! Help load the experiment onto the rocket. Be careful not to jostle it! That equipment is fragile!"

Zack, Cloud, and the troopers loaded the tank onto an extra large dolly. Maneuvering the tank into the lift and then into the rocket was difficult; it barely fit through the doorways and got stuck on the slightest protrusions. Uneasily, Zack thought that the darn thing acted as if it didn't want to go. Eventually they managed to squeeze it into the spot Cid had found for them. They dismissed the troopers, and got to work securing the tank, which took less time than Zack expected. Both Cids were quite pleased with the finished result.

"Well, that's that. Good work everyone." Zack beamed at his companions. "So," he turned to the younger Cid, "could we still have that tour? This place is awesome."

The astronaut laughed before happily agreeing to show off his dream. Zack would have felt a little bad about distracting the man like that, if the distraction hadn't made the man so happy. The last part of the plan required Vincent to sneak in and guard Jenova and the rocket from AVALANCHE or any other group that might interfere with the launch. He'd disembark after the rest of the scientists and technicians, just before ignition. The younger Cid was a nice guy but he reminded Zack of himself, back when he really was a SOLDIER 2nd Class and thought the world of Shinra. If Cid found out about Vincent and what was really under that tarp, he might not be so inclined to help.

Day Eleven

April 12 0003 - Launch day of Shinra's No. 26 Rocket

The ugly profiteering son of a bitch known as President Shinra had arrived, the air show had been fucking fantastic, and according to Vincent, AVALANCHE was down five members. What was already a good day was made even better, in Cid's opinion, when right during the lift off, when all eyes were on the rocket, someone had blown President Shinra's head clean off. Seems liker the terrorists had managed to get one thing accomplished. With the rocket already speeding towards space, Cid felt that he could ignore the fallout of the assasination. Maybe Shinra would blame all their recent problems on AVALANCHE. He could hope. His job here was finished.

"Well, there she goes. Good fucking riddance." The four men stood by the truck watching the light of the rocket dwindle as it rose into the blue aether of the atmosphere.

"So what're you kid's plans now?" Cid asked while exhaling a stream of smoke.

"I'm going to head back to Midgar," Zack said, turning to face the others. "I promised Aerith I'd come visit her."

"Are you suicidal or something, kid?! I told ya, yer gonna get fucking killed going to Midgar!" Was this guy nuts?

Zack's chin jutted defiantly. "Yeah, but we've already made a lot of changes. Shinra's got plenty to distract them, and besides we still have to do something about mako energy. Even with the president dead, they'll just keep sucking energy from the planet. Didn't you say that's what woke the WEAPONs up?"

"Oh for fuck's sake. No. Fucking Jenova and Sephiroth woke up the damn WEAPONs, but because of the rutting shield on the Crater, the WEAPONs couldn't get at 'em, and turned their attention to the damn reactors and humanity."

"Jenova might have woken them up, but don't you think eventually they'll wake up because of the reactors? It's only a matter of time. We need to do something now," the young man countered.

"We can't just stand here and do nothing," Cloud added.

"Damn fucking numbskulls! If you want to go get your asses killed, after all the work I put in savin' ya, be my fucking guests, but leave me the hell out of it." No way in hell was he going to do all that over again.

"Come on, Cid, we're gonna need you. You can't expect us to get this right on our own," Zack pled.

"You know what's going to happen. Please, you have to help." Cid frowned, feeling tempted. How fucking weird it was hearing Cloud say please!

"You started this," said the gunman coolly. "You should see it to completion." Seemed like Vincent wasn't planning on helping him out.

"Damn it!" Cid sighed explosively, then grinned. "I'm getting too old for this, so y'all had better not give me any lip!"

Notes

I know Cloud seems kinda weak in personality here, but you have to remember he's suffering from mako poisoning and isn't using Zack's personality to hide in. Having to deal with all the events that happened in Nibelheim means he's not quite up to par yet. Give him time, he'll get better.

This is part of a series of short stories about what would happen if each party member had the chance to go back in time to change things.

AVALANCHE's involvement in the rocket launch is detailed in Before Crisis.