The first day; Chaos and paper airplanes; The Grand Tour; Challenge not accepted;
Chocobos and children; What a landing
Three days after being hired, Cid, Shera, Barret, and Marlene reported at the security checkpoint of Shinra's main air base for the moment of reckoning. There hadn't been so much as a peep from the Turks, so unless those besuited bloodsuckers were planning to ambush them at the checkpoint, Cid figured the group was in the clear. The sharp-eyed guard at the gate scrutinized their temporary employee IDs with slow, careful attention, then handed the papers back with a gruff "Welcome to Shinra's forgotten armpit," and waved them on, not even batting an eye at Marlene's presence.
The air base was out in the Waste, several miles from Midgar itself. Cid felt a smile creeping onto his face as they drove past the barbed wire fencing and in amongst the clapboard office buildings, sheet metal hangars, and concrete bunkers. Despite the distance from Midgar, and the city's relative youth, there wasn't much vegetation still hanging around and the buildings all had a healthy coating of pale dust.
"See that building over there?" He pointed to one of the largest structures. "That's where they built most of the crap that went into the Highwind. Right behind it is where it was all put together. Next three hangars are for planes, and those next two are for the fucking corkscrews." Barret reached around from the back passenger seat and smacked him upside the ear.
"Watch yer language 'round Marlene, man! I keep tellin' ya!"
"Alright, dammit! I got it! It's where they keep the choppers, happy now?"
Shera interrupted, her hands waving in a shushing motion. "Is it a good idea for you to be telling us this? Won't they be suspicious if we know where everything is?"
"Nah," Cid answered, rubbing his stinging ear. "The place was never well organized. Heck, a Malboro tryin' the two-step would be better organized than anything I ever saw here. Anybody who notices we know our way around'll just assume that somebody else already gave us directions."
A paved concrete square surrounded by low wooden buildings on three sides was the hub of the aeronautics division's headquarters. They parked the rattling jeep in front of the middle of the three buildings and piled out. On either side of the metal door, which had "SHINRA: Air & Space Division HDQTS" stenciled on it, were two potted lemon trees. In all the time Cid had worked here, they'd only ever put out one fruit between them. Nobody had ever eaten it - it had wrinkled up benignly on a special shelf of its own in the office, and was brought along in state to the first flight of any craft.
He grinned fondly at the trees as he passed, and heaved open the door. The others followed him in, then stopped and stared. The open office beyond was in mild chaos. Sheaves of paper towered at the edge of metal desks, folders were stacked on top of overflowing file cabinets, and notes were passed across the room via paper airplane. (Shera squeaked and ducked as one nearly took her ponytail off.)
People carrying papers and PHSes rushed in and out of the back door, which was never shut for more than four seconds. Pull-down maps decorated most of the walls, and wherever there wasn't a map, there was a strata of tacked-up notices. The AC units rumbled and whirred, and so did fans on desktops and inside computers. That was only background noise though, to the jumble of voices - people shouting to each other or into phones.
"Can somebody get me two choppers on standby five miles northeast of Fort Condor? Special request from the Turks!"
"We don't have anything over by Mideel until 0300, they'll just have to camp out overnight. They're SOLDIERs - a couple mosquito bites aren't gonna kill them."
"The mission leaves in two days, and I've still only got two warheads! I need a full payload! … I don't care about your problems! What, you want me to just load up the bay with rocks instead?!"
Next to him, Barret leaned over and whispered. "It always this bad?"
He gave a sardonic smile, enjoying the bustle. "Yeah, fucking disaster zone. But I didn't give a crap, just wanted to fly."
"Hey, you!" A young man with a blond mohawk came power-walking out of the disorder in front of them. "Yes, you guys just standing there. What do you want?" His voice was brusque.
"We just got hired," Cid said peaceably, and flashed his temporary ID at the guy.
The young man snatched it from his hand, and peered closely. He had tattoos of blue flames along his arms. "Huh, guess that means more paperwork. Hang on a sec and let me see if your permanent IDs are around here somewhere." The man fought his way away from them, disappearing behind a skyscraper of file folders. About seven minutes later, he reemerged.
"These are you, yeah? Barret Walls - mechanic, Cid Haze - pilot, and Shera Larkin - engineer," he confirmed before handing the badges over. "I'm Brother - sometime Gelnika pilot, most times ground crew member."
Cid had pulled out a cigarette while waiting. He hadn't lit it, and now he chewed on the butt while he thought. Brother. Hadn't he been part of Qator's crew? A deck officer, or something? Must not have been promoted yet. But, damn. That had reminded Cid of Qator himself, a fancy-dressed nose-grinder with a stick up his ass. He could be a problem.
The credentials distributed, Brother leaned over to be Marlene's height. "And who are you?" he asked.
"I'm Marlene, Shera's sister," the girl lied calmly.
"It's fine that she's here, right?" Shera asked, wringing her hands, worry in her voice. No need for acting. "Only the man at the gate didn't seem to mind, and, well, our parents passed away last year, with no relatives for her to live with, and with us staying in housing out here, I couldn't just leave her in the city and -"
Brother held up his hands in surrender, trying to stop the torrent of words. "Slow down, slow down." He grinned at them. "It is fine, we have a daycare."
Barret glared accusingly over Brother's mohawk, and Cid shrugged. He'd never had a kid; how was he supposed to have known about the daycare?
Brother was still explaining. "Lots of parents bring their kids. You'll have plenty of friends!" He looked up seriously at Shera, Barret, and Cid. "There is not much in the way of proper learning though, so school work is on you."
Cid frowned. Great. Start a rebellion, save the planet, teach math. If the department could afford some babysitters, why couldn't they afford a teacher? Surely some egg-head in Midgar would want the job, even if it paid shit. Folks were desperate, weren't they? Or maybe not yet. He thought about the bustling optimism in the slums. Nitwits were still too damn hopeful for a decent paycheck in the city of dreams to bother coming out here.
"Shinra doesn't pay much attention to us as long as we get the job done," Brother finished.
"About that-" An office runner of some sort interrupted, PHS in hand, papers tucked under an arm. "You guys don't happen to have any contacts inside or outside Shinra that might be useful, do you?"
They looked at each other. Unless you counted an ex-Turk, a renegade super soldier, a past Shinra board member, the Wutaian princess, and the rest of the crew who had brought down the globe-spanning corporation, plus a shit load of weaponry and all their collective knowhow, none of which they could mention, then no. They had nothing to share.
Shera shook her head. "Sorry."
"Too bad." The runner clicked their tongue in disappointment. "We've got fewer rules out here, but part of that's because we get no attention, no money, no love. We have to fend for ourselves. Glad to have you, regardless." The runner gave a small wave before heading off.
"What was that about?" Barret grumbled.
Brother headed for the door and waved for them to follow. "I'll explain as I show you around." The glaring light of the sun assaulted Cid's eyes as he stepped out. It had gotten much brighter during the brief time they'd been inside. It might get hot out in Rocket Town, but now that the morning cool had burnt off, nothing but the Corel Desert could beat the Wastes in the downright miserable hell contest.
"Like you heard, Shinra does not give us assistance. Our boss Palmer is a good-for-nothing, spends all his time in Midgar. Out of all the departments we have the smallest budget, once you factor out the fuel costs. We're on call twenty-four/seven. Don't ever expect thanks for air-lifting someone's butt out of danger - and the Turks are the worst. Got choppers stationed all over the planet on stand-by for them." Brother, Cid remembered after watching the young man speak, was a very active talker, always waving his arms around.
"Anyway, Cid, right?" Cid nodded. "I talk about how badly off we are, but you'll be happy out here, we've got the best flyers. If you like helicopters, they're over there." He pointed to the same buildings Cid had earlier. His back was to them, so he missed Cid's scowl. "Next to it is where we have the planes. Tilt rotors, Gelnikas, some Atomos, and a small fleet of Valfarre fighters." Cid could look around and see all these craft on the tarmac too - a Gelnika practicing touch-and-gos, a Valfarre being refitted, equipment being loaded onto an Atomos.
Brother waved his arm to the east. "Airships land over there. And if you look further off, past the tarmac you can see a pile of rust, that was once the Viltgance. It crashed a couple years back. Now we use it for scrap."
Cid use to explore the wreck when he'd first arrived - it had been recent, then. Met his first girlfriend Marsha combing through it. Her dad had been a crew member. With her help, he'd incorporated some of the Viltgance's design into the Highwind. Longer nose than the standard airship, an observation deck, overhead rotors. Both ships had been bigger than their predecessors. Plenty of folks had thought him a nitwit for basing his design off the one airship that had crashed at the time. It had had so much potential, though, he couldn't just let its memory and design rust over. The Highwind had been a marvel of engineering; nothing had ever come close to beating it until he'd built the Shera.
"The whole fleet isn't stationed out here," their tour guide carried on, "the other bases are out in Junon. That's a navy base as well, and they always have the best food."
Cid remembered that too. He'd always been eager to make flights to Junon, where there was real food instead of cardboard. Hell, sometimes he'd change his flight path to hit more stops, which used up more fuel, which would necessitate a stop off at the port city... And while he was there, why not grab a bite to eat? Two ahriman, one stone.
Brother was still going on about the other airbases. "Rocket Town: that's where the space lab is. It mainly exists so Palmer can have a fancier title." He turned to Shera. "If you're interested in research, you should try getting transferred there. The Science and Weapon departments have the best facilities for engineers and researchers, but we're glad to have you, and we need you more. Ines Belfarre heads up all that stuff out here. See those sheds way over there?" He pointed to a collection of buildings across the tarmac, some way from the wreck. "That's where you'll be working."
"And we have a real small base in Midgar proper, HQ, mostly for the Turks and executives. They call here if they need anything for troops or SOLDIER."
He walked them past Housing, a series of stacked apartments with cracked stucco walls: "Rooms are tiny, walls are thin, you'll hear engines going all night. Not to mention everything your neighbors do. I recommend investing in earplugs," and then the mess hall: "The food sucks, that's why there is a counter full of condiments, hot sauce, dressings, sugar, everything. If you've got anything like that with you, you share it with all us other poor saps. Same if you end up buying anything. Oh, and you get a day off every two weeks to leave base, but you can't expect your days off to line up with your friends."
"Barret, over there is the mechanics' garage. Most of your work will be done in the hangars but fiddly stuff is in there. Tools are kept there too. In charge is Besrudio Bunansa - don't confuse him with his son Mustadio Bunansa. He's a little older than you, and works there too." He turned to them, looking serious. "Now if you or Shera are any good at your jobs, Weapons or Science might try to poach you. You just tell them to go screw themselves, alright? You're ours now."
Barret scowled. "I'm here for a reason. Ain't gonna go working for them," he groused. Shera nodded firmly.
"Glad to hear it," Brother said. A shout hailed him, and he turned towards it. Another young man ran up. He wore a red bandana tied around his head, and it fluttered brightly in the breeze. Tattoos had always been popular on the airbase, Cid recalled. This fellow had blue stripes all down his arms.
"What's up, Marcus?" Brother asked.
"Urban Development has put up some new scaffolding in sector eight, and it doesn't have any guide lights on it yet. I'm trying to warn all the pilots. If you get called into Midgar, you need to go around that sector until those guide lights are up tomorrow."
"Right, I'll pass it on."
"Thanks," Marcus gave a nod before running off.
Their guide turned back to them. "That's another thing. Communication around here sucks - if somebody is out of a plane without their PHS, they're incommunicado. We have radios and intercoms, but it is too noisy, with the engines. You hear something, pass it on."
"Seems like a shitty way of getting things done." Barret's opinion on the place obviously hadn't gone up over the tour.
"It was not so bad before the war." The young man shrugged. "Our infrastructure's never had a chance to catch up with all the new demands. Add in that the boss does not care about us, and we end up with a mess."
Barret could see now that Cid's plan wasn't just some fool's errand. This place was in major need of some reorganization, and nobody seemed to like the boss. They ought to have it easy stirring up trouble. He'd never been part of a strike himself, and had no experience organizing such a thing. There had always been plenty of grumblin' in the Corel mines, most of it 'bout Shinra and falling wages, but it had never come to anything. The rare times it had looked like boiling over, Barret's dad had been a peace keeper, talking people down, knocking heads if nothing else got through.
After his old man passed, he'd tried to follow in the man's footsteps, being a leader in Corel. He'd talked the others into swallowing all sorts of ill-treatment, because surely the rewards for their labors would be coming soon - and that there'd be trouble if they didn't keep in line. Then it all went to hell, and causin' trouble for Shinra became his mission. Sure, he might have prettied it up talking about the planet, but any excuse was good enough for him. After Meteor, he'd stopped runnin'. Started to put his town back together. Put the whole world back together, one block at a time. And now here they were, back to causin' trouble.
"Well, what y'all think?" Cid asked, all quiet like. Brother had walked off a few feet to take a PHS call.
"Needs an overhaul," was Barret's soft response.
"We'll be split up - but we can cover more ground that way." Shera put a thoughtful hand to her chin. "We should start with the lower ranked workers before moving up the chain. Though I've worked with Dr. Belfarre before in Rocket Town. She shouldn't be too much of a problem. She still talked about Darill quite often." She looked at Barret. "You might want to get close to Mustadio first. He'll be just a bit older than you, and if you can plant doubt in him, he'll talk to his father. Besrudio listens to him. And Cid-"
The pilot nodded grimly. "Qator. Yeah, I'll handle him."
Barret frowned. Cid and Shera were in their element here - they remembered all this stuff. He was the odd man out. "Qator?" he prompted.
"Caption of the experimental airship Gabriel, and the highest ranked combat member in the department. Loyal as a guard hound to Shinra."
"While you guys worry about that," Marlene said, "I'll work on the kids." She grinned impishly, an expression he knew meant trouble.
"No way," he said flatly. "You ain't getting involved." He wasn't about to let her get into hot water.
She frowned. "I'm here to help. I'm not going to sit around like a lump in daycare. Besides," the grin came back, "you really shouldn't underestimate the power of kids to persuade grown-ups. I can get you and Cloud to dress up and join me for tea parties."
Shera and Cid snickered. Barret rolled his eyes. "Laugh it up, you two. Just wait 'til you have a kid. You'll go to a hundred tea parties to keep 'em happy."
Marlene looked smug. "We'll be your secret weapon, see?"
"Nuh-uh," he said. "You're gonna sit tight, aight? Let us handle things." She didn't answer, but he knew not to take that for a yes.
He'd have argued with her some more, but Brother finished his call and came back. "You guys are from podunk towns, right?" He didn't give them a chance to answer, waving his arms in dismissal. "So you've never seen an airship land, right?" He carried on before they could respond. Barret scowled, trying not to be irritated by the patronizing tone in the man's voice. "Well, we're done with the tour, but if I stretch it out a little, you will be on the tarmac to see the Falcon coming in, in about a half hour or so. An airship landing is always impressive to watch."
Yeah, he'd seen them land before, nearly had one land on his bar. Cid had the Shera hover there for a near week after Kadaj's Reunion. It had brought in a lot of business for Tifa, people coming to gawk at the oversized flying machine.
Cid answered Brother with what seemed like honest enthusiasm. "Can't wait to watch."
Brother filled the remaining time by taking them around to meet their coworkers. Shera's new boss, Dr. Belfarre, was deep in the guts of some weird-ass device, and only waved at them. A group of off-duty pilots headed back to housing - Elly and Raffy, blond twins who flew Velfarre fighters and did some of their own maintenance, and two of the five Mog brothers; Tillo and the flight instructor Iosh. Barret was introduced to the Bunansas, who greeted him with energy then turned back to arguing over a long roll of blueprints.
They ran across Cid, the past one, on his way off base. They oughta get used to it, Barret guessed, meeting people they knew as younger versions of themselves, but it was still fucking weird. Brother introduced him, going on about how Cid was the youngest airship captain in history and that he'd even designed his current ship. They all spent a moment sizing him up, making the guy a little mad at them. That was partly Brother's fault, he figured. If the flying prodigy thought they were doubting his abilities, that was his own problem. 'Course, their Cid didn't help. Had to go poking buttons.
"You're that good, huh? I'll have to race you sometime, airship or Bronco."
The twenty-something Cid scowled, and stepped forward angrily. "Don't get cocky, kid, bet you ain't ever even been in an airship."
Shera set a gentle hand on their Cid's arm, but he grinned and stepped right up to his past self, evidently having the time of his life. He dropped his cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his heel. He looked up, staring directly into his past self's eyes. "I could still fly circles around you."
The other Cid stared for a moment in disbelief, then snarled, "Who the fuck do you think you are, you green-assed little amoeba? You wanna end up cleaning the shit-stains outta toilets?"
Brother leapt between the two men, his arms flailing like windmills. "He meant nothing by it, sir! Excuse us, I'll just take a moment to talk with him, you do not need to worry about it!" He grabbed the teenaged Cid by the arm and towed him away, scolding under his breath. Barret, Marlene, and Shera followed.
"What were you doing?" Brother half-whispered, half-shrieked. "He could put you on permanent janitor duty! You don't talk back to the people who can promote you! You can't act like that here! Don't do it again!"
Barret looked back at the other Cid. The man was walking out on the tarmac to a waiting chopper. Barret wondered where he was going. Hopefully somewhere he'd be busy for long enough to cool down, though him forgiving their Cid was probably too much to ask.
Not long after, Brother introduced them to a pilot named Sazh and his son Dajh playing with a pet chocobo chick outside a hanger. There was a large round fan blowing nearby, keeping the area cool. The chick would run forward, flutter into the fan's draft, and be blown back and caught by the little boy. Each time, it warbled happily, hopped to the ground and repeated the process.
Marlene was instantly taken with the yellow fuzzball. She ran forward to watch, asking its name.
The little boy beamed. "Her name's Chocolina! Daddy got her for me when we went to Costa del Sol," he said, happy to show off his new pet.
"She's a yellow, about a week old, right?" Marlene asked.
"You got it. Picked her up the day she hatched." Sazh smiled and put down the propeller reduction gear he'd been cleaning. "You know a lot about chocobos, huh?"
"Yup! And she's from the peninsula. You can tell because she's so small."
"That so? Guy we got her from told me she wouldn't get too big, like the racers."
"We went to the track and there were some reeeeally big ones." Dajh stretched his arm up as far as he could, trying to show how big the birds were.
"How do you know she's a week old?" Brother peered down at the chickabo.
"By the egg tooth on the top of her beak," she responded.
Brother rubbed his head. "That so. Where'd you learn so much about Chocobos?"
"Oh… umm," Marlene glanced up at Barret. She couldn't explain about Cloud's racing exploits, so she looked to him for some help, and he wasn't gonna leave his little girl hanging.
"Guy in our village raised a couple of racers." He nodded slightly at Marlene, then expanded the motion to encompass the group.
Dajh's eyes grew big. "Really?"
"Yeah," Marlene chirped, back in charge of the story. "I used to help out, when I could go." She loved the birds, but she didn't get to go out to the farm very often. Cloud usually visited on his way in or out of Edge during delivery runs, Tifa was busy running the bar, and Barret had his work on the oil fields that all-too-often kept him away from home, let alone visiting the Chocobo Farm. Plus, there was the rank chocobo smell, which Barret had never got used to and was why he didn't make a point of hanging out with the birds.
Sazh grinned. "Well, if that's the case, if we have any questions we'll come ask the local expert. Okay with you, little lady?" He seemed like a decent dad, better than what Barret had been expecting from a Shinra employee. Kinda drove home the fact that most of the people here were just ordinary folk trying to get by.
Marlene laughed. "Alright," she replied.
Then Cid had to go running his mouth, ruining his girl's moment. "And if you can't figure it out, come to me."
Barret snorted. "Like you know anything about takin' care of them."
"Hey, I raced those birds too," Cid shot back.
"Never helped look after 'em or pay for 'em."
"Not my fault Cl- the spiky haired idiot kept them so far away. Easier to met him at the track."
Barret scoffed. Far away, his ass. Cid owned two airships and a plane, a jaunt to the next continent was a milk run for the man. And Cid's racing was purely for the prize money, to spend building his own shit, not out of any love for the birds or the sport.
"Guys, enough," Shera chided them.
After an awkward moment, Barret and Cid still eyeballing each other, Sazh shook his head. "Kids," he sighed dismissively. "Still, you raced, huh?"
"A bit," Cid acknowledged, putting an unlit cigarette into his mouth, rolling it back and forth.
Sazh eyed him, but when Cid offered the pack, he shook his head. "Nah, not for me. Nasty habit for a kid," he said significantly. "Mess up your lungs." Cid just shrugged. Sazh pursed his lips and continued, "Thing is, the seller had me buy some reagan greens, saying they're some of the best stuff for her, but they're expensive and hard to get out here. What would you recommend?"
Cid started to answer, then looked down and smiled. Marlene was pouting a little. He gave her a nudge. "Well, expert, what would you feed her?"
She smiled, then launched into her advice. "Reagan greens are too rich for her at this age. He just wanted to rip you off."
"That so?" She definitely had his attention now.
"Yes. As a yellow chickabo, she only needs krakka or either type of gysahl green, the leafy one or the radish. You can also give her tantal or pahsana apples as a treat. But not too often until she's older," she warned.
"Krakka or gysahl." Sazh took a small pad of paper out of his large coat pockets, jotting some words down before putting it back. "Got it."
Dajh grabbed hold of his dad's hand, chickabo cheeping at his feet. "Daddy, is Chocolina gonna get sick cause we fed her the wrong food?"
Sazh looked at Marlene. She looked at Dajh. "Not if you switch her over," she reassured him. When the boy turned away to tell the chickabo the good news, Marline tugged on Barret's shirt. He crouched down to where she could whisper in his ear. "Reagan greens will make her have diarrhea and smell worse than normal."
Barret laughed and passed the information on to Sazh, who shook his head in dismay. "Great, would've liked to known that a week ago."
"I'm surprised they let you keep her on base," Shera commented, chuckling at the chickabo jumping up into the fan's wind.
"Most out here don't care, as long as she doesn't get in the way. Might be a bit more difficult when she's older, but Dajh's just crazy about chocobos and having a pet is a great responsibility for a kid. We'll figure something out for her when she's full grown."
In general, Barret agreed with Sazh - he'd had dogs all his life growing up. But he hadn't had a pet since Corel's destruction. For a long time he'd just been too angry, and since then, too busy. He was away all the time, getting the oilfields up and producing, Cloud was away nearly as much, and Tifa ran herself ragged looking after the bar and the kids. He was hit, as always, with a strong case of gratitude for everything she did. Maybe when all this was over, they'd build a new Seventh Heaven here. If things went okay on Reeve's end, getting new energy sources, Barret would be able to help out at the bar. Third time's the charm. And Marlene and Denzel were getting more responsible all the time, they'd probably be okay looking after a pet on their own… Reeve always had an excess of rescued cats he was trying to find homes for…
The chickabo right then decided to flutter her way onto Dajh's afro, making everyone laugh. Marlene clapped her hands together in delight. He felt himself misting up a little, watching her. Growing up with AVALANCHE, she'd been raised surrounded by adults. Funny how working for Shinra, temporary as it was, would mean she'd have other kids to play with. He hoped leaving wouldn't be too hard on her.
Barret still had some concerns about this whole daycare deal. This was Shinra they were talking about. At least it seemed the fuckers didn't try teaching them anything. No way in hell was he gonna' let those life-stealing vampires teach his little girl. He looked up at Sazh, feeling a mild irritation all over again at the loss of his height. "How's the daycare they got here?"
"Huh? The daycare?" Sazh scratched his chin. "It ain't bad, just some spouses who are willing to live out here and older kids not much younger than you who look after the tykes. Built themselves a place behind the barracks with some scrap. They call it 'The Fort'."
A fort, huh. Sounded kinda fun. Still, he'd feel better knowing about any learning going on. By the sounds of it, he and the other two were going to be busy working and starting a revolt. They wouldn't have any energy left to teach, and if the daycare just let the kids play it wouldn't do any good for their futures. He didn't want Shinra teaching, but none wasn't any good either. Was Brother right, no one out here taught? "Got any lessons?" he questioned.
"Just real simple stuff," Sazh replied. "Alphabet, counting, how to write their name, add 2+2. That kinda thing. Any more complicated is on you. They just don't have the time." He sighed.
Big group? "How many kids out here?"
"About twelve or so. Oldest thirteen, youngest under a year. Most folk with kids have them in proper homes off base. Just us who have no one else to look after them out here." Sazh's voice dipped and Barret recognized the tone. It was in his own voice sometimes when he was thinking about Myrna. He wondered what had happened to Dajh's mom.
Instead he said, "I can see why most don't want to live out here if they got other options."
"Hah, ain't that right. All this dryness is dry, and the heat is worse."
Dajh suddenly stood up and pointed a chubby finger into the sky. "Ship comin'!" he chirped.
Heads turned to look. Shera squinted and shielded her eyes. Far off in the wavering air was a black dot. She had to watch it for a minute to assure herself that it was indeed growing larger as it came closer. Little Dajh had good eyes.
Brother's radio crackled, but an engine activated in the hangar and she couldn't hear any of the transmission. Cid started to walk out onto the tarmac, and Shera followed him. Marlene had been stuck to her side all day, but the girl stayed behind, talking to Dajh. Shera was glad; she wanted a private conversation with her husband. Barret would look after his girl.
Cid was grinning as he tracked the progress of the ship through the heavens, apparently uncaring of the overhead sun that made sweat trickle down his face and darken his hair. Shera had to shift from foot to foot as she stood beside him, the heat rising up through her shoes. "Cid," she said quietly. "What was with you earlier, picking a fight like that?"
His grin dropped. He looked down at her, then away. His mouth worked, and he fiddled with his cigarette before he answered. "Well," he answered slowly, "I'm an asshole. Always have been, prob'ly always will be. Just, some times in my life, I was more of an asshole than others."
He was quiet again. She took his hand. His mouth quirked. "I 'pologize. I shouldn't've got carried away."
She squeezed his fingers. "Just don't do it again," she murmured. "It's all of us you're risking." He squeezed back, then pulled away, squinting up at the approaching airship.
"Something's wrong," he said tautly. "It ain't comin' in right." Shera looked up. The dot was big enough to be seen as a ship now, and something was indeed wrong. Though still distant, the craft was distinctly listing to port. Something might be wrong with the rudder, she thought, or perhaps the rotors, watching the aft drop distressingly before the pilot recovered. The airship was struggling to stay aloft.
Then, blaring out over the massive noise of engines and propellers, she heard the sirens of the red alert. The ship was under attack. Someone or something was on board. Other people were running out onto the tarmac to watch. A man shouting into a radio brushed past Shera. She followed him for a few steps, tugging Cid with her, determined to hear.
"What the hell is going on up there!?"
It took a moment before the radio crackled back to life. A woman's voice came through. "Coming in fast with a monster on our tail. It's damaged the rear engines and rudder. Tell the ground crew to stand by with spatulas, they may have to scrape up our remains." Despite the morbid joke, her voice was calm, almost amused. Shera wondered at the woman's confidence.
"She's coming in too hard!" someone in the crowd half-shouted. Nervous, Shera turned to Cid, then did a double take at his excited grin.
"Cid," she hissed. He shouldn't look so pleased in the face of possible disaster.
"Don't get your panties in a twist," he smiled, "she'll make it. I heard this story. Can't believe I get to see it play out first hand."
Even with Cid's reassurance she fretted over the airship's rapid approach. "What's going to happen?"
"You'll see, just watch," was his unhelpful answer.
Wind blasted down at them, many ducking and shielding themselves from the force. Marlene popped up beside her and grabbed her hand, and Barret stepped in front of them as a physical barrier. Squinting behind her glasses, Shera watched as the Falcon came in at a nearly vertical drop, landing gear out. The rotors stalled and for a few sickening seconds the ship was in free-fall. Her grip on Marlene tightened, then spasmed as the rotors came screaming back on in a hard-reverse, attempting to pull the Falcon from its plummet. It would be too late, she thought despairingly, seeing how low the aft of the ship dragged. Yet somehow, with only a few inches to spare, the nose dipped precipitously, equalizing itself with the sagging rear, and the airship set down with a thump.
A hand landing on her shoulder made her sharply exhale the breath she'd been holding. "See, told you it was something to watch," Cid rubbed a soothing circle on her shoulder before adding, "and it ain't over."
She gave a jerk, staring at him in dismay. What else was going to happen? He just gave a cocky grin, nodding back to the Falcon. A tall blonde woman in a long red coat, trimmed with light-refracting gilt, was descending a hurriedly thrown out ladder. She ignored the onlookers and went in ground-eating strides to the ship's tail. The crowd followed her, Cid pulling Shera along with him, Shera hanging determinedly onto Marlene, Barret keeping pace beside them. The grating shriek of a monster rang out. Looking up she could see the clawed wings of an abnormally large ahriman, just visible over the spine of the craft. Its mutated body was partly obscured by thick noxious smoke emanating from the damaged engine. As the crowd moved behind the ship, the creature grew clearer. The size of the monster, its discoloration and malformed claws, the extra saliva dripping from its gaping mouth, unusual ridged scales and overly aggressive behavior were all clear signs of mutations caused by mako.
On the broiling asphalt, the pilot, Darill, it must be, unholstered an ornate long-barreled pistol with a set of linked blue and green materia from her hip. "You messed with the wrong ship," she growled, and fired several shots in quick succession. The Ahriman shrieked as the magic-infused bullets impacted its body before exploding into large ice crystals. In agony, the monster flung itself off the ship, diving at the onlooking crowd, its single blood-red eye opening wide, the black sclera around it like a universe unto itself-
"Shit!" Cid grabbed hold of her, dragging her to the ground, but she could still see that hideous eye. Barret grabbed Marlene away from Shera, burying the girl's face in his chest. "Get your head down," Cid yelled at her, grabbing her by the neck and physically forcing her gaze to the ground. "Don't look at its eye!"
Around them, people were screaming and fleeing or following their example and dropping to the ground. It wouldn't be long, she knew, before someone would die. Why wasn't Cid doing anything? Even with their weapons hidden away they still had their materia. It was then she noticed the sky around the horizon was no longer a washed out blue, but dark with a giant full moon. The earth and air alike trembled with power, the relentless beat of something fast approaching. Raising her head, she saw the sword of Odin catch fire as Sleipner seemed to soar over the prostrate people, many with their faces turned up in wonder at the armor clad summon. The ahriman's last shriek was cut short as Zantetsuken cleaved its rotund body in half.
Flames consumed the summon and it was gone, the pressure of its power fading, the sky returning to blue. Beside her Cid stood and offered her a hand. "That," he glanced at Barret, who was helping up Marlene, "was rutting fantastic." Their friend gave Cid a glare, mouthing the words 'watch it'. Soon the fear and shock faded and people began to talk animatedly amongst each other. Many went over to Darill to thank and congratulate her. Others wanted to see the summon stone slotted into a wristband, which she showed off with a dignified pride. However, she didn't put up with the attention for long.
"All right, you slackers, back to work. Someone get a repair crew on that," she waved her hand towards the damaged Falcon, "as soon as possible. I'm going into town for a hard drink."
Notes
Hey, it's alive! There were a couple conversations in this one that we really wanted to include, but that really, really didn't want to be written. Not plot-crucial, but filled with good character beats.
You might see some familiar faces in this chapter… Can you figure out who they all are? Here's your cheat sheet: Brother is from FFX, Blank and Marcus from FFIX, Darill from FFVI, Besrudio and Mustadio Bunansa from FF Tactics, Ines and Qator from FF Type-0, Elly and Raffy from the Chocobo Series, Tillo and Iosh from FF Crystal Chronicles: My Life as a King, and Sazh, Dajh, and Chocolina from FFXIII. Our strategy for NPCs: crib them from other games in the franchise. It's foolproof!
We really love Barret, and he doesn't get nearly enough screentime in fics. Also lacking attention is Sazh, even in his own game's sequels, and it was important to us to get in a conversation between FF's (still!) only two black playable characters. Since fatherhood is an important aspect of both characters, Sazh makes a good foil for Barret.
In Skipper's other fic, If it Were Me: Case of Cid, future!Cid thought that he'd probably end up punching his past self if they met. They did meet, but he kept his cool in that story… Here, we decided to go with a more aggressive interaction.
Marlene got a good moment in this chapter, but Shera didn't get anything particularly noteworthy. Don't worry, Ms. Rocket Scientist, you'll get more interesting stuff later on.
Our grandfather was in the Air Force - when he was in, the navy famously had better chow than the other branches. I've heard that isn't the case anymore, though.
In VII there are three locations where you can find chocobos, but can't keep and breed them: the chocobo farm, on the peninsula above the temple of the ancients, and Wutai. My headcanon is this - at the Farm, the birds belong to them, so obviously you can't keep them for yourself. In real life, peninsular and island sub-species tend to be smaller, so here they are not good for racers but good as pets. In game, the chocobos are about 9' or 10' tall, so my notion is that the peninsular and island chocobos are about 6'. And Chocolina is a tiny, tiny chick - realistically, she is not going to be a big bird.
Gysahl greens: in the FF series, there are two types of Gysahl greens. One is a leafy vegetable like lettuce, the other is a pale skinned radish. In Chapter 5, I mentioned a trooper feeding the birds a leafy green… but VII has no leafy greens. So I retroactively fixed it by having two types of Gysahl green.