In The Absence of the Sun

Chapter 18 -- Potatoes!

“One engine out, maneuverability cut by 50%, rate of survival: 80 to 1.” read the small, onboard computer.

It had more to say, but a hard pound from my fist ended that. My hand was soon needed in other places though; first to adjust all of the power to Engine 2 and then to try and fly my way out of this mess. The only problem was that I had no clue where my opponent was.

A sudden hail of bullets from behind changed that though. I soon realized that I didn’t stand a chance in this little game of back and forth. The only way I’d win this would be to…

No, it could never work. Just maybe though…

Abruptly ending the internal debate I set everything to manual control and knocked the one remaining engine down to minimal power; practically stopping my fighter dead in the air. It all happened so fast that the fighter behind me never had time to get out of his own way.

He must have pulled up as hard as he could, but that didn’t stop the belly of the craft from slamming into my last good engine. I heard the explosion before it even registered on the computer; and on that cue my arm yanked back the manual ejection lever. A massive “whoosh” filled the air and I shot like a bat outta hell into the sky.

But then all I could see was black. A barrage of light and air soon flooded in though, as the simulator hatch opened. I stepped out and lit a cigarette in the process. That had been a bit intense, and whoever had been in the other simulator knew what they were doing. Hopefully I’d outsmarted ‘em; well of course I did, Cid Highwind doesn’t get beaten. The score would tell that though.

“Lieutenant, your score is up.” Announced the young simulator operator.

I headed over to the small computer monitor set up on an old, folding table.

“How bad did I beat him?” I asked, exhaling a puff of smoke.

A look of unease crossed the operator’s face.

“Well, actually lieutenant…”

“I beat you!” shouted a voice from behind.

As I spun around I about puked, there stood the Winters kid. He was the one who’d beat me!?

“Nice maneuver you pulled there at the end, but you ejected too early. Whoever ejects first loses, and you went a split second too soon.” explained Winters.

“Goddamnit.” I cursed under my breath.

“Guess I just got lucky.” he went on, trying to calm me down probably.

At least the kid was smart enough to know this wouldn’t be happening again. Like he said, it was pure luck.

“Wanna get some lunch kid?”

“If you don’t call me kid again, sure.”

“Deal.”

Maybe he wouldn’t turn out to be so bad after all.

****

Across the complex Admiral Janus Apollo, commander of the entire Shinra airforce, found himself engaged in a simple game of checkers. His opponent was none other than the ever-disgruntled Commander Nairne. As Nairne often lamented in private, the two old friends never saw each other anymore; yet it seemed Apollo intended to rectify that.

The two sat across from each other over an upturned barrel, which held the battered checkerboard. The admiral’s tent was quite sparse having a large folding table acting as a desk, a few folding, metal chairs and an endless array of charts and documents. The admiral wore his custom scarlet flight suit, while Nairne opted for the standard gray. Once again in contrast, Apollo sported a recently cut flattop, while Nairne favored a tangled mess of hair.

And oddly enough, although the two men had not talked in quite some time, the tent was silent, save the occasional click of a checker. Apollo was currently winning, having at least two times as many checkers on the board as Nairne. Yet Nairne seemed indifferent, as he’d been towards everything lately.

“King me please.” requested Apollo.

Nairne obeyed.

“So how are things in your squadron Jack?” asked Apollo, making his move.

“Alright.” he replied, evading one of the other man’s kings.

“Ah you can not escape me for long, my friend.” he reminded, the last two words seeming a bit strained.

The word “friend’ rang around in Nairne’s mind. Janus had not called him that for quite some time. And Nairne was still a bit skeptical as to why he had started again.

With the aid of three other kings, Apollo trapped two of Nairne’s checkers in one corner of the board.

“As I said, there is no escape, your pieces will not both survive.”

Nairne stared at his two stranded pieces for a moment, assessing his situation. The two pieces were a standard checker and a king, yet it was Nairne’s only king. Before making his move the man looked up at Apollo.

“Why did you ask me to come here? You’ve treated me like shit ever since you got your promotion, why the sudden change Janus?”

A look of bewilderment overtook Apollo’s countenance.

“Do I need a reason to want to see an old friend Jack?” asked Apollo, obviously covering something.

“That’s total bullshit and you know it!” accused Nairne, standing up from his chair.

“Sit down Jack, you’ve got a few drinks in you I’m sure, but that’s not the right fuel for a fist fight.” admonished Apollo calmly.

Reluctantly the commander reclaimed his seat.

“Ok you got me, want a medal? I brought you here for something, but I think it just might interest you.” explained the admiral.

“This better be real good Janus, or you’re gonna wish you weren’t stuck in this tent with me right now.”

Apollo ignored Nairne’s threat.

“Recently I made contact with this group, and I think they have the answer to this war. They’re still open for admission if you want in.”

Nairne didn’t even wait a second before he delivered his answer.

“The only answer to this war is gonna come from the ends of my guns, I don’t need anyone to tell me otherwise.”

Apollo shifted slightly, a sign of nervousness.

“Very well Jack, just thought I’d make the offer. Now I believe it is your move.” nodded Apollo towards the board.

After another second of contemplation Nairne moved his king out in the open. Apollo quickly jumped it without a second thought. But a gap had formed in Apollo’s blockade, allowing Nairne’s other checker to escape.

“Why did you do that? It was your only king. Now the rest of your little group is weak and defenseless.” observed Apollo.

“Well Janus, sometimes the leader has to make a sacrifice to benefit the group; rather than thinking only of himself.” replied Nairne, defending his move.

Apollo’s mustache twitched in contempt, but he was denied an opportunity to reply. For at that moment an exhausted, young figure stepped into the tent.

“Admiral Apollo?” he asked between breaths.

“Yes?”

“Message for you, its private.” he said, looking in Nairne’s direction.

Taking the hint Nairne stood up.

“Goodbye Janus. Good luck with your command, I do not expect we will be seeing each other under such circumstances again.” Nairne said caustically as he exited through the tent flap.

Apollo tried to ignore the man’s remark.

“Who are you and what is this message?” he queried.

“Private Delson sir. The message is from Red Tiger, sir.”

Red Tiger? Ah yes, those damn stupid names Sephiroth had come up with.

Once he realized what was going on, he extended his hand to receive the small message disk. After a quick turn to his desk/table the admiral grabbed his small laptop and put the disk in. With a quick voice confirmation it began loading. Of course technology being what it was he had to wait a good thirty seconds before the message was completely up.

But when it did Apollo was slightly startled as to its contents. The words were few but the implications were endless. Although it could be fake; Sephiroth had said to test the messenger with a password, and so he did.

“Password?” he asked, slightly skeptical, not turning away from his laptop.

“Thunderclap.” stated the soldier stoically.

Good, he was the real thing.

“Do you have a set of coordinates stored up in your head there somewhere?”

The private paused for a moment to think and then rattled off a set of coordinates, along with a specific date, in four days.

“Thank you, now is there anything else you need, or are you done here?” Apollo wondered, somewhat impatiently.

The soldier surveyed the tent warily, as if looking for something.

“Well sir, I have run all this way in the past two days and my last canteen is getting close to empty.”

“You can fill it up in the mess tent, goodbye.” suggested Apollo dismissively, not even looking up.

Not wanting to press the rude admiral further, Private Delson quickly left.

Once the man was gone, Apollo turned back to his small computer. Although the message didn’t come out and say it, it definitely implied something. Sephiroth had mentioned a plan a week or so ago and this must be the follow up. He wanted to strike one final blow, have a battle to end all battles, and ultimately crush the Wutaians.

But something about that didn’t fit right in Apollo’s mind. What had they really done to incur Shinra’s wrath? Probably nothing, which made Shinra the real bad guys, and the Wutaians the good. Yet he could never convince anyone else of this, he’d be shot for treason. If only the “enemy” could get some kind of edge, some kind of sporting chance in this whole thing.

Yes…

With that fleeting though Apollo began to type.

****

“Shlop!”

Always a great sound to be coming from your food, or not.

But it’s all we’re gonna get, so I might as well deal with it and fill myself up.

“Hey, how ‘bout some more of that protein goo you got there?” I yelled, to the serving cook.

“How ‘bout you take the ‘goo’ you have and shove it up your ass!” barked back a surly woman who was working over a steamy pot.

Not wanting to get beat up by the dame, I gave up and grabbed a metal bench at one of the long tables. One look down at the tray of “food” in front of me almost made me gag, ever since we’d moved bases the food had gotten horrible. So I pushed it to the side and sipped some coffee. A minute later the kid, oh wait can’t call him that, Hector came and sat down next to me.

“So what do ya think of that simulator run we took earlier?” asked Hector, pretending like he didn’t know what I was gonna say.

“I’ll tell ya what I think of that sim run, I think it can bite me. Any machine that can’t sense who the real winner should be and let them win ain’t worth my time.”

I could tell the kid wanted to start cracking up, but he held it in. Which was good, cause if he’d laughed I’d have had to wipe that smile off his face with my fist.

“Highwind can’t you just admit that I won fair and square?”

“No, cause you didn’t! That goddamn piece of metal should be able to tell when I eject, and show the score right; with me winning.” I said, slamming my tin coffee cup on the table.

Luckily he didn’t have time to say other stupid things and piss me off even more, cause Thanton sat down.

“Good afternoon Highwind, Winters.” he said, while nodding to each of us, and sitting down.

When he sat down to eat he poked his food with a fork and watched the fork bounce off. So like the rest of us he just pushed it off to the side.

“So I see you’ve been doing a lot of sim runs with your group lately Highwind, how’s that been goin’?” he asked innocently, not knowing about the run today.

The kid let a smirk appear on his face, but got rid of it quickly.

“Don’t ask.” I said, not wanting to get into the whole thing again.

“Alright then. Hey do you know when we ship out for the next mission? It’s been almost four days or so since the last one, and I’d ask Nairne, but…” he trailed off.

“But?” asked Hector.

“What is there not to get? The guy is a psychopath. I said hi to him the other day and he flipped out.” I said with a slight yell.

“Yeah it’s like he’s been getting worse lately too. He doesn’t even attend most of the squad meetings anymore, just has me run them.” replied Thanton.

Not really having much to add, Hector took another look at his food, but gave up again. Suddenly on cue Nairne himself walked in, and gave me an evil glare before heading over to our table.

“Shit, he’s coming over here, I better split. See ya around.” I said hastily while getting up.

Before the creep could make it to our table I headed for the drink station. What I really need right now is a good beer, but of course those aren’t allowed here. At the station I found another man already using it, but he let me squeeze in to grab one of the soda taps.

He didn’t wear the standard gray flight suit that most pilots normally had, but instead had on basic army fatigues. I figured he could be someone worth talking to, so I struck up a conversation.

“Hey, what squad are you from?” I asked, knowing he probably wasn’t a pilot.

“Oh I’m not a pilot. I’m in the Shinra Army, Private Delson, and you are?” he replied, looking up from his canteen newly filled with water.

“Lieutenant Highwind.”

At this he snapped a quick salute.

“Sorry sir, was not aware of your rank.”

“Don’t worry about it, what are you doing way out here anyway?” I questioned.

Delson averted his eyes for a moment, unsuccessfully trying to hide something.

“It’s confidential is about all I can tell ya sir. Sure was hell to get here though, boot camp isn’t nearly enough training for the real deal. I ran a good twenty miles in the past two days across open, hostile territory.” he recounted.

“Wow that has to suck, when does your plane head back?”

“Oh I’m not getting any planes, heading right back again. Supposed to report in two days from now. Don’t know if I’ll make it though, I feel like dying right now.”

“Well good luck soldier, I gotta get goin’.” I finished, not even bothering to get a drink.

When I turned around I found that lunch was goin’ full blow, since it was noon and all. So the big old mess tent was packed, which was why I didn’t see someone coming right at me from my left. But I saw him soon enough, cause he slammed right into me, knocking me off my balance and almost sending me to the floor. Luckily Cyril, a guy in my group, caught me and shoved me back onto my feet.

“Sorry Highwind, didn’t see ya there.” yelled an all too familiar voice over the constant noise of the crowd.

Azrael freaking Maiden, the last person I wanted to see right now.

With a nod of thanks to Cyril I stepped up to the plate.

“Didn’t see me! I was right in front of you!”

“Well I guess I musta not been payin’ attention.” he explained with one of his trademark grins.

This guy was just asking for it.

“Maiden I’ve had it with your shit. You’re just too damn cocky, let’s take this outside.”          

The grin vanished from his face.

“I’m sure we can work something out Cid…” he said, a bit worriedly.

“I’m sure we could, but I don’t want to. Get your ass outside.”

By now we’d attracted a bit of a crowd, but they parted quickly to let the two of us out. The door was already open, so we walked right out onto the dirt road. The sun was bright as ever, and the air was dry as a desert. Neither of us were wearing the regular flight suits cause of the heat, so we’d just gone with the standard army clothes today. I pulled my jacket off, leaving some beat up old pants and a white undershirt; Maiden did the same.

The crowd had followed us out and formed a circle around a small of patch of road we were standing on. A low murmuring could be heard, probably bets being placed. I spotted Hector, Thanton, Cyril and even Nairne in the crowd; apparently they thought this would be quite entertaining.

“You shouldn’t have gotten on my bad side Maiden.” I said, for all the crowd to hear.

“I’m not too worried about it.”

That’s it, this jerk is goin’ down.

Without another thought I lunged at him and delivered a solid punch to his jaw. But he’d been ready, although he ducked a bit too late, but it was enough to weaken my punch. And before I knew what was going on he was up again and punching me right in the nose.

Fuck!

Feels like he broke the damn thing, can feel the blood spurting. Oh well, he won’t get away with that. Returning his gesture I swung a hard left to pay another visit to his jaw. A loud “thunk” and a growing pain in my fist told me I’d hit right on. His head flew back and for a few seconds he was defenseless.

I figured it was only fair to give him a chance to get back in the game, so I gave him exactly one second; after that the game was back on. And so taking my chance I went for another punch, but all I hit was air.

The guy was at it again, and like a monkey he danced around me, almost taunting me. So I figured I could let my guard down for a second, cause he seemed to be having fun doing his little dance.

Wrong.

The second I let up he nailed me with the hardest right hook he had to my eye. Colors exploded in front of me for an instant but were fast replaced by a massive throbbing. He ain’t gettin' away with this. With a quick breath I closed my eyes and pulled all the strength I had together. Using every last bit of energy in me, my left arm shot out and I connected with Maiden’s eye like a rock. His head snapped back at an odd angle and his body spun in the air, hitting the road with a puff of dust.     

That should teach him.

But suddenly something impossible happened, he stood up. No way this could be happening, he should be out cold right now. The guy could probably go on all day like this, but I definitely don’t have the energy for it.

“You done yet Maiden?” I yelled across the silent road.

“Not even close.” he threatened.

“Yes you are.” ordered a new voice from behind me.

I turned around to find Commander Kahne from Dragon squad staring me down.

“This is despicable, a disgrace to the airforce! And Nairne, how could you just let your boys go like this, you easily could have stopped them!” he reprimanded.

Everyone turned to Nairne.

“Why stop ‘em? Let ‘em get it out of their systems, there’s no place for enmity between pilots in the air.” Nairne explained.

He had a point, for once. Through this all me and Maiden struggled to keep from passing out, but managed alright.

“Nonetheless it is unacceptable, and if you’re not going to deal with it, I will. Come on you two, I think the cooks could use some help peeling potatoes for dinner.”

Ah shit.

****

I’ve gotten a new appreciation for potatoes, peeling them for three hours will do that to a guy. But I have not gotten used to Azrael Maiden. Being stuck in a small tent full of potatoes with the guy has just made me hate him even more. And having a throbbing, bandaged, bloody nose along with a sore jaw doesn’t exactly make things better.

With that thought I picked up another potato and was about to peel it, when I had a better idea. I tossed it up in the air to get a feel for it, and then with a well-aimed lob I hit Maiden right up the side of the head. It knocked him right off his stool, into a pile of our favorite vegetable. I figured he was exaggerating, but after a few seconds he still hadn’t made a move or sound.

This can’t be good.

So I got up and walked over to see what was up with the guy. He was sprawled on his back, eyes closed, one of them being black from my punch, he was probably unconscious. His chest was still moving though, so he must be all right. I’ve done my part, no need to stand here and gawk at him. I headed to my stool, back turned. And as I was just about to sit down something nailed me right in the back of the head.

I spun around to find Maiden still lying on his back, but with eyes wide open, and he was laughing his ass off.

“Think that’s funny?” I yelled.

He was laughing so hard that he couldn’t talk, but he managed a nod of “yes”. Since he found this amusing I figured he’d like more; so I picked up two potatoes and pegged him. That just made him laugh even harder. I was too busy being pissed to notice a sack of potatoes come flying towards me and hit me right in the stomach. With a breathless grunt I hurled it back.

We went on like this for a good five minutes until we were both too tired to go on. By now he had even me laughing too. And as we sat there I stared him straight in his swollen eye, a serious look on my face.

“Truce.” I said, painfully extending my hand.

“Truce.” he replied, reaching out his own hand and shaking mine.

Of course we didn’t hold hands any longer than necessary, that’d just be weird.

“Well Maiden, should we get back to these potatoes?”

“Call me Az.”

“Az it is.”

Note: As usual, this one took a while to put together. It doesn’t advance the plot a whole lot, but it was necessary to solidify some friendships with Hector and Az. Chapter 19 will be around eventually, with many more plot advances and a bit of Cid. And if you’re reading thanks for sticking with it so long, the end is approaching off on the horizon and it should be good. Adios!

Go on to Chapter 19