Just a Little Vision

by Cendri

Cidney Fitzgerald Highwind, twenty-five years old, was nervous for the first time in his life. And he wasn't boasting, either, that was honestly true. Maybe he was a bit too stupid to really ever be nervous, even signing up for a damn war was a cakewalk compared to the riled up feeling in the pit of his stomach.

See, this was... a vision.

There was a counter balance of fire and butterfly in his stomach this way. He appreciated the wonderful typed out proposal, but Shera was entirely missing the point of it all. Numbers. Damn numbers. He was an engineer, but he always hated the math in it. It was the doing that separated engineers from scientist wackos.

Oh god, he hoped that fucking weirdo wouldn't be there, now that he was thinking about scientists.

"Captain?" he had to wonder about that weird woman sometimes, he wasn't in the military anymore technically.

"Yeah, I'll watch my damn language in there. And did I really have to wear this suit?" He was going to suffocate before he even had the chance to speak. Had to wonder about those Turkfucks running around in this kind of shit everyday. Added more to his theory that they weren't human at all, just a bunch of androids or clones or something. Granted, this was a theory he kept to himself. He may have been brash, but he wasn't stupid.

"Oh and..."

"Right. I won't forget your little report thing. Shouldn't you be doing be workin' or somethin'?" He was talking like a damn tool. That regionless accent thing that all the suits loved. But this was a vision and he'd be damned if they rejected it on the basis he sounded like a two gil hick.

Shera skittered off like she usually did. How she ever got into this line of work, he'd never know. At least he knew her name now. Last six months were odd considering one of his top mechanics wouldn't even speak to him. Shyness did no one any good. Especially if they didn't wear a goddamn nametag.

He particularly noticed how cold the doornob was as he gripped it. No gloves, like he usually had on. Weird that he would notice such a thing. And the packaged air that hit his face as he opened it was also cold, and he sorely missed his goggles about now. They were good luck, dammit. He took a breath and stepped in.

Well, there went his hope that the freak wouldn't be there. In fact, this meeting had a few more people than he expected at first. The President was there, naturally, and one of his Turks, though it did say something that it was the old one. What was he going to do, throw shit at the fat bastard if he said no? Well, maybe there was a good reason for that then.

He didn't think that the annoying woman and that Heideggar bastard would be there. Then Hojo, but he had already covered that. But the President's spawn was there. Bratty snot-nosed little... well, if this went well, he supposed he would have to learn to cater to that too.

"Highwind is it? You have fifteen minutes." The President sounded bored. Already. And he suspected that if he took the entire fifteen minutes, then he would most certainly be turned now. Best not to get into jargon.

"Thank you, Mr. President, sir," that sounded awkward, dammit, "I'm here today to talk about a manned spaceflight initiative." Yes, he knew what that word meant. His mechanics would be laughing about now, but it did take more than flying skill to get through engineering school.

They were all quiet and watching. Damns if it wasn't creepy as hell.

"Alright, um, well, basically the plan is, we're going to need survellaince on places like Wutai. What better way to do this than from space, where we can appear as unobtrusive as possible."

The President nodded.

"In addition, I propose that we make the flight to put the satellite in orbit be a manned one. As you can see on page 13 of the report you have," thank Shiva that woman had thought to send the report out earlier, he would have forgotten, "it's a smart venture. Less chances of mechanical error and more cost effective to make the mechanics." He swallowed.

"If I may interject, this sounds an awful lot like a request for more playtime." Hojo said quietly, and Cid could almost see cartoons doodled on his notepad. The Turk, who so far had been politely in the background, turned his head sharply at Hojo's voice. The scientist smirked at him and he went back to being unnoticable.

"Whaddya call some of--" he began to say, his accent returning, but he stopped himself. "I guess you would see it that way, Doctor."

"He does have a point, Highwind," Rufus this time, in that patented Shinra tone, "Why don't we just launch a rocket and have it drop your little satellite into... orbit? Why so insistent that a person, namely yourself, fly this thing?" He gritted his teeth.

"Ya ever let a machine do surgery on ya?" Damn that accent. The heir shook his head. "Then would you want to leave a machine to putting a piece of metal up in space that could come falling down on your head?"

"Then why put it up there in the first place?" Hojo again. He could swear the Turk muttered something.

"I don't know, because eventually you're going to run out of land to conquer and there ain't gonna be anywhere else ta go?" Fuck this damn accent. He was getting a little pissed at Mr. 'No, I'm not Frankenstein, I'm a Wute smartypants' butting in.

The President cleared his throat. "That sounds a little far fetched." But Cid was already far gone beyond the polite babble.

"Is it? Yer already runnin' low on mako resources. An' the Doctor here can prob'ly tell ya that people are gettin' mighty unhealthy these days. Maybe I sound paranoid, but this coporation would be for fu--nothin' if we all just become extinct. An' if that doesn't happen, wouldn't it be a real damn shame that we didn't go for an opportunity? Like if ya'll didn't start infusin' SOLDIERs with mako or start this business in the first place. But if ya'll think it's pointless, there's no point in me bein' here. So I'll just go now."

The President chuckled.

"Calm down, Highwind. I'll take a look over this outline... we'll see if maybe we have a budget for this?" That annoying woman made a noise of protest, but the Turk gave her a look and she suppressed it.

"Oh? Um, thank you, sir."

"I'm only doing this because I'm amused, you know."

"Well, it means somethin'. Thanks again for your time."

Under the breath mutterings and murmurings and compressed air didn't seem so oppressive anymore. He guessed this was some kind of oxygen to the brain type fake euphoria and later he would question just how quickly the idea got accepted. He muttered another thanks before heading out to the hallway, already loosening the noose hold of his tie. He moved aside as a couple members of the board moved past him, already on to other things for today. Hojo smirked as he passed, and he moved to say something, but someone else beat him to it.

"Already stepping on pipe dreams today, Scientist?"

"You should know that Gast is elsewhere at the moment, Turk."

Well fuck that. No use getting in the middle of that catty ass exchange. He was going into space. First thing he had to do now was go tell his crew. If they weren't excited then he'd have to make them excited. It was Cid F. Highwind's time to shine and they were going to enjoy it. Pipe dream... pfft. That was for hippie damn scientists, not engineers.

No, first thing he was doing was getting out of this damn suit. Businessfucks.

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