Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 7 and all is associated characters, location, etc… are property of Square Enix.
Peace's End
By tfa1
Chapter 6: Highflying Hopes
People joined the Imperial military for two reasons: to get killed in combat or to commit suicide with the vast array of available weapons.
Sid Highflier joined the military because he could get discounts on booze.
And as he flew over Wutai on another idiotic bombing raid, he wished he had some alcohol with him. Each time he tried this he wondered why his bombs never hit anything. It was as if they bounced off the air itself; repelled by a barrier. In fact, he didn't understand the whole war with Wutai. The Wutaians didn't use guns, they didn't have planes, and they rarely invaded. Sid wondered how the nation managed to persevere.
He did not know that they wielded weapons more powerful than guns; more powerful than planes. What they used were potent magics; powers contained within ancient orbs known as Materia.
Fire rained down upon the bombing crews. Lightning fried the circuits. If Sid Highflier didn't fly drunk, he would have noticed the numerous summoned monsters that would come to Wutai's aid, blasting enemies clean over the horizon. Over the past 700 years, the people of Wutai had hunted down and acquired nearly every single materia on the Planet.
Completely out of his right mind, Sid registered very little of this. His drunken state, although it impaired his ability to identify anything clearly and tended to wipe his memory, saved his life on numerous occasions. His erratic flight patterns and occasional nose-dives either made him very difficult to shoot or led the Wutaians to believe he was already dead.
But Sid Highflier never crashed. It was the one thing he was famous for. It was part of the reason he was made a captain; the other being that he was one of the few military soldiers left alive, although many believed that was soon to end. Flying drunk into the heat of battle was downright stupid, but by now Captain Highflier had mastered the art of drunkenness. He had mastered the art of smoking while drunk. He had mastered the art of eating while smoking drunk.
But above all, Captain Sid Highflier had mastered the art of getting discounts on booze.
And, flying above the pristine nation of Wutai, he wished he had some with him.
- - -
"There's only one way outta here," elaborated Bart, "We gotta find ourselves a plane; a military one. They're the only things allowed in and out of the Sky."
Nimbus grinned, "And where will we find one of those?"
Rockslide shook the lifeless robot slung underneath his arm. "He's gonna tell us." Forcing a large finger into the back of the cat's head, he reactivated Smith. The big man wrapped his hand around its little body, pinning its arms in place. Rockslide wasn't taking any chances with an Imperial spy.
"Where's the nearest air base?" he demanded.
Smith turned his gaze to Nimbus. "I see that our little operation went amiss…"
The bald man didn't smile. "That's what happens when someone finds out you're a spy."
"So you don't trust me, then," the cat said as a frown crossed its once jubilant face, "I expected as much. I brought ya along in the hopes you could convince the Wall that I'm one of the good guys, but I see that I hoped in vain."
"To tell the truth, I never really trusted you myself."
The black cat snorted angrily. "Nimbus Air Force Base is right here in the city." Looking to Nimbus, he said, "Kind of ironic, don't ya think?"
"Quite," his former companion muttered.
"Then," Rockslide began, "that's where we'll be headed. You're comin' with us, cat; if you want to live."
"Oh, goodie…"
- - -
Sid Highflier's landing went smoothly… for a drunk. As he glided into the hangar, loosing the tip of his wing in the process, his mind began to clear, and once again he thought of his dream to go into outer space.
It was quite apparent that the Emperor wasn't going to give him a place aboard any spaceships, so Sid did what any man would do.
He decided that he was going anyways.
The problem he was faced with was getting out of the Sky without looking suspicious. He knew all too well the kinds of things done to suspicious flying objects. Last summer a heat-seeking missile was sent after an unidentified craft… which turned out in the end to be a bird. Pretending to go on another bombing mission to Wutai was out of the question; not only was his craft damaged (by his landing), but none of the other airplanes had returned, unsurprisingly.
Captain Sid had two options available to him: dropship or helicopter. Helicopters were used primarily for internal travel underneath the Sky these days, and he needed a crew if a dropship ploy was to be successful.
But where was Captain Sid Highflier going to find a crew willing to fly all the way to the Space Program Facility?
- - -
Sure enough, Nimbus Air Force Base was located in the city, about seven blocks from the Sixth Hell, next to a church, of all places. Getting there was no problem; getting in was. A keypad, a twelve-inch thick steel door, and an automatic gun turret blocked the way in.
"Open it!" yelled Rockslide as he pressed Smith's face into the keypad, his hand now clutched around the feline's head to allow for arm movement. The cat's body hung limp as he resisted the big man's orders. "Now!"
Smith tried to shake his head, but it was locked tight in Bart's hand. "I can't open it."
"Don't lie to me, ya lousy spy!"
"I can't open it," the robot repeated.
"If you don't open this here door, I swear I'm gonna rip you a new one, pal."
"I don't know the code," sighed Smith. "If you haven't noticed I'm an outdated model. I don't get updated with any of the new key codes."
"That's bull!"
The cat remained limp. "That's the truth. My fellow black cats and I have been obsolete ever since the Empire's new top secret program got underway. All my brothers and sisters have been impounded at a disassembly factory, waiting to get recycled."
Finally it all made sense. "That's why you want to take down the Empire!" Nimbus exclaimed, "You want to save your friends!"
"Not my friends; my family. They're all I've ever had."
Rockslide's grip didn't loosen and distrust became apparent on his face. Nimbus took the black cat into his own arms and asked him, "How do we get into here?"
Just as Smith was about to tell him it was impossible, the steel door opened to reveal a bald man in a blue coat with beige jeans. He dragged himself along, as if depressed, and periodically scratched his stubble with a gloved hand. In his free hand he carried a jug filled to the brim with fresh alcohol, and he chugged some of it down without removing the cigar clenched in his yellowish teeth.
"And where would we be headed?" he asked the suspicious bystanders.
Taefis, Rockslide, and Nimbus's bodies locked up and they remained silent, but Smith was quick to act. "We need a lift off this rock, Captain!"
The decrepit man suddenly stood up straight, a smile beaming on his face. "Smith, you old dog (err… cat), if you only knew how happy I am to hear that…"