D R O P
Ed couldn't seem to get his stomach to listen to him. It was trying very valiantly to have nothing to do with Edward, seeing as he'd been ready to throw the entire thing up as he sat there in his seat in the cargo plane they happened to be occupying. He looked around with a sick look at the other passengers. The two Xingese emissaries seemed perfectly fine. Georgia was playing with a puzzle box. Alice was snoring loudly while Imal tried his hardest to keep himself from covering her mouth with his hand and waking her up just to stop the cacophony of noise. Kojak was staring out a window, and Richie looked lost and unfamiliar being by himself. Nirvana had forbade Willow to come, considering the fact that the drop would put an incredibly amount of stress on Willow's body, and though her leg may be functional the rest of her still had some catching up to do. Edward winced as he remembered the argument that had ensued back at base. Willow had brought up Nirvana's own shaky condition, but Nirvana had answered cryptically.
"Then why are you going?"
"I'm made of tougher stuff, that's why. I don't break like you do."
Edward frowned as he looked over to Nirvana's seat, where she was idly tapping a digi-pen against her armrest as she played with some wordgame or other. She was strangely calm now, having been only foaming at the mouth practically two days before. The ability to heal was very, very creepy, and Ed didn't care what sort of miracle medicine they had in the infirmary. That wasn't natural for a person to go from panicked, deranged teenager to cool, collected young woman. Something had been nagging at Ed ever since he'd gone to her in that hellish room where she'd been captive. He remembered her wrists being rubbed raw, but the only wrist she ever touched with a look of pain was her right. She didn't give the time of day to her left wrist, and as Ed had watched her, ever observatory, he realized that when he'd checked on her, her left wrist had been rubbed raw, but the skin hadn't broken. In fact, the skin had looked strange. Then again, she'd had bandages over both wrists by the time he'd gotten there, but his earlier visit before this entire debacle had given him an unedited version of Nirvana's torture. She never once talked about it, and Ed never brought it up. Maybe that was how it should be.
Ed turned back to the front, where the pilot sat behind a thin wall of glass. It was bulletproof, from what he'd been told (and would willingly believe). He didn't know why a pilot would need to sit behind a bulletproof pane of glass, but that was their idea. Still... Grayson, who was sitting next to him, was practically bouncing out of his seat, but not out of excitement. Ed could tell the guy was nervous, considering his bookworm nature. Dropping out of a plane from twenty thousand feet sounded like a lot of fun... well, with a parachute. The procedure for this type of drop was going to be just a little bit different...
"Grayson, what's with the pane of glass between us and the cockpit?" Ed asked. Grayson knew everything, after all. Or so people said.
"Hmm? What? Oh, sorry, um, the glass is there in case something in the cargo area or passenger area breaks and starts decompressing the cabin. That part of the plane has its own life support, and he it can detach from the rest of this thing. Should we ever get into that type of situation, we'd all be dead already, but the pilot would at least be able to take our dead bodies back home. Or we could all pile into the cockpit and hope that it has enough air for a good number of people," Grayson answered in anxious, hysterical tones. Ed could see the guy was losing it already, and they hadn't even made it to their drop zone yet. Even Ed was relatively calm, after getting the gist of what they were going to do. He had no doubts that it'd be perfectly safe. He also did not have any doubts that he'd probably have to change pants afterwards, but they'd burn that bridge when they crossed it.
"Hey, kiddos, we're about to approach the drop zone. Better get gussied up. I'm not makin' a U-turn," the pilot said, his gravelly voice coming over the intercom. Ed blinked, realizing that only about thirty minutes had passed. They were already there? And they would've spent two weeks on camels rather than do this? They were crazy! Several of the others were unclipping their seatbelts and heading towards the drop station, where they'd be outfitted into what the techs had morbidly called 'The Crash Coffins.' They were basically boxes with lots and lots of padding on the inside as well as straps and a hook-up to a life support system. They were made of some sort of incredibly strong, carbon matrix material that was designed to absorb shocks. All the padding did the same, though it was definitely made of softer stuff. There was a window to watch the world drop by, and the entire outside was covered in a smart-skin of color changing, microscopic diodes that would blend with any of the surroundings. There was a parachute at the top, but the Crash Coffin was designed so that it could land on anything, be it dirt, rock, water, or snow, and the impact would only leave the occupant slightly jarred and thinking that the next time he thought about doing anything like that again, he'd enroll himself into a mental institution.
Which was what Ed was contemplating as he strapped himself into one of the open, sand-colored boxes. He felt his stomach try to revolt again, but the rest of his body managed to hold still enough for him to strap himself inside. There were attendants who were locking it from the outside, and Ed felt that growing sense of claustrophobia again as they closed the door. Though the padding gave the thing a womblike feeling, he wanted desperately to get out. He groaned and leaned his head back, hitting the padding underneath his neck. This entire idea was absolutely insane! He didn't care that he had an entire month of supplies in the cargo compartment. He didn't care if this thing was insulated to within an inch of its life! THEY CALLED IT THE CRASH COFFIN FOR PETE'S SA-
Ed's hysterical thoughts were cut short as he was suddenly aware that his stomach and heart were sharing the same space in his throat. He felt himself rattle around as the box tumbled, trying to find some sort of equilibrium as it sailed downwards towards the desert floor. Out of his little window, Ed realized he was actually facing up with his back to the ground as he saw three other boxes come out of the plane's underbelly. They all looked like little parcels as they came down, and Ed asked himself again, Why am I DOING this? Then again, he'd been asking himself that every couple of seconds while living in the Oasis bunker, and by now he still didn't have a single clue. Maybe because if he were on vacation, he'd probably go crazier than if he were being dropped out of an airplane in what could be called a glorified casket.
Very suddenly, Ed smashed his forehead against the little window, and he let out a loud, "DAMN!" Headshots were becoming more and more frequent the longer he stayed in the future. Maybe this place just had something against him. Ed looked down in his window again, and this time realized that his orientation happened to be vertical. That yank that he'd felt (especially in his forehead) had been the parachute dragging the entire thing upwards into a vertical position. Instead of freefalling, he was now gently floating down. That would be great if there weren't drones around, but seeing as they were this close to Patron City... Ed resisted the urge to break open the box with alchemy. Skydiving without a parachute didn't sound exactly favorable.
Suddenly, there was a beeping on the inside of Ed's box. He frowned until he heard a hiss, and his eyes widened as he smelled something strange. He realized that it was getting harder and harder to breath. The oxygen tank was also mixed with a supplement of nitrogen and carbon dioxide, and he suddenly knew that something was very, very wrong.
"Carbon Dioxide levels reaching critical occupation. If technical failure persists, occupant will die. We are sorry for the inconvenience." Ed's eyes bugged out as he stared at the box. That was all they had to say? We are sorry for the inconvenience? It would be very inconvenient if he died. Edward knew he had to get out, but the little altometer to his right said he was almost a thousand feet from ground level. Still, he was losing more and more oxygen, and considering that cellular respiration wasn't exactly CO2 friendly, he was putting out more carbon dioxide than he was breathing in. Edward looked at the altometer again as the beeping got more frantic, and Ed's vision started to blur. He was losing too much oxygen! Any more and he'd black out, and he'd be trapped inside of the box when he hit the ground.
"Screw that," he muttered to himself. He looked at the altometer again. Five hundred feet. Well, better splat than suffocate. It was definitely a lot quicker.
Outside the box, there was a massive spark of light. Suddenly, it was replaced with what looked like a very strange looking, disjointed air balloon, a small blonde alchemist sitting in the basket. He clung to it for dear life as it suddenly plummetted faster. The box had been designed especially for the parachute and vice versa. Seeing as the box was no longer, well, a box, it was falling a lot faster. Finally, it started reaching terminal velocity, and Ed felt like his body was trying to rip itself apart from the g's he was experiencing. His cheeks seemed to ripple as he got closer and closer to the ground. He realized he'd have to get this thing to slow down way more if he was going to survive impact. That or turn it back into a box (which, by the way, was not going to happen). Another flash of light, and the thing had wings. It lifted for a moment as the air caught it, and it slowed significantly.
It hit the ground and slid on a dune before coming to a rest. Ed looked out comically, his eyes shifting side to side as if to look for somebody that might happen to be in the middle of the desert expecting a large, bird-shaped basket to appear. The rest of the parachute fluttered down and landed on Ed's head, covering him completely. He started to flail to get out of it, and he fell out of the gondola with a yell. He finally extricated himself from the parachute, and he looked up. He didn't really see anyone else. He guessed they'd already landed by now...
Sure enough, he saw something move in the sand, and a person-shaped figure climbed out, but he couldn't tell who it was. Several more did the same. It seemed that everyone had landed in more or less the same spot. He brushed the sand out of his hair as he started clambering over to the rest of them over the dunes.
"The hell was that? Sheesh, I thought I was a dead man," Zhang muttered as he dragged all of his stuff out of his box. Ed winced as he realized that he'd forgotten everything in his haste to get away from the confounded contraption. Guun was likewise as he grunted, heaving the pack onto his back after having walked back to his box. Georgia ran up to the others and asked in a frantic voice, "Ed, what did you do? What's wrong?" Ed gave a deep frown as he said, "Your stupid box screwed up, that's what. The oxygen tank must've failed or something, because I just about suffocated. If I hadn't done something, I'd probably be dead right now." Georgia rubbed her temples as she shook her head.
"This is bad. This is really bad. I checked all of those things right before we took off. They were in working condition. Even Richie said they were in order before the flight left. Either they malfunctioned from something happening on the plane-" She stopped for a minute, not wanting to say the other thing on her mind.
Guun, however, had no such inhibitions. "Or someone else must've tampered with them prior to the drop." Georgia swallowed and nodded, her face suddenly pale.
"In which case, we have a mole," Georgia said solemnly. Zhang spat into the sand and said, "Well, I don't know about you guys, but I think some idiot screwed up, more like." Suddenly, there was more shouting, and all four turned towards the noise of cursing. That was invariably Nirvana, cursing the crap out of her own box.
"Damn stupid thing! Trying to get me killed, for the love of crap. Why'd it take you guys so long?" she asked raucously from where her box had hit the ground. Kojak wasn't far behind her. The sand kicked up, and everybody winced. The winds were just as fierce as they were back near base, and Ed very much wished that they'd dropped an Octis or a car or some sort of vehicle, even if it was just a bike. Suddenly, Georgia piped up, "We're missing a couple people. Where are Richie and the Terrible Two?" Ed frowned as the others looked around for them as well. Ed spun around in a circle, looking in all directions, but found that he could find them either.
"You think they got dropped late?" Nirvana asked over the wind. Kojak suddenly shouted, "Oi, fellas! I found them! Something's wrong, though, 'cause they's tuggin' on Imal's box! It ain't comin' open!" The big black man was already running across the dunes, and everyone also followed suit to find Richie and Alice trying fruitlessly to tug open a large tan box in the shade of two dunes. Alice was already in tears as she screamed at the box to open, and Richie was busy attempting to get through it with his power tools, which were doing absolutely nothing by the looks of it. Nirvana and Ed skidded down at the same time, landing next to the two.
"It won't open! Open it! He's dying, hurry up!" Alice screeched. In the little window, Imal was turning a ghastly shade of blue underneath his mocha skin, and Edward suddenly realized that the same thing that had happened to his box must've occurred to Imal as well. He shoved both Richie and Alice out of the way, and he clapped his hands before placing them on the box. There was a bright light and a big 'FWUMP' of sand, and everyone waited for it to clear. There was the sound of coughing and gasping before it settled down. Georgia and Kojak stood on the other side, waving away the sand as it cleared.
Imal was gasping on his side, coughing and taking giant gulps of air. The box had been completely split open like a banana peel, and Ed sighed as he stared at it. Richie scratched his head and shook it while Alice tackle-hugged her brother. Georgia's face was troubled as she said, "They've been tampered with. I can believe the team running over one box, but not two. They would've caught either. It doesn't add up, though..." Zhang and Guun looked at each other with worrisome glances.
"Hey, guys, what's up!" Gray shouted cheerily, skipping down a dune as happy as a daisy. Suddenly, he tripped and screamed as he went head over heels, shouting 'OUCH OUCH' every couple of rolls. He finally stopped at Kojak's feet, and he looked up at both Georgia and Kojak. The librarian smiled and looked around at the somber faces before his own cheery expression dropped.
"What? What'd I miss? Why does it look like you guys just had to put down a dog?" They all shook their heads, not the least surprised that Gray had missed everything. Groaning, they began to gather up what supplies they could salvage from Imal's box. "Wait... no, seriously, what happened? Oh, come on, I got stuck and I couldn't find the release button! Guys!"
"What happened?" she asked. Hilary was watching the main screen carefully. The giant middle sheet of glass on the table had little glowing icons of several tan boxes, as well as a blue airplane and dotted lines showing trajectory. One of them cut out in mid-air, and another one lost the signal after transmitting for a minute and thirty-eight seconds. Mustang wasn't pleased with this, not pleased at all. In fact, she could feel a knife of worry twist her gut. She should've protested this type of entry. She knew she should've. It was crazy. The Crash Coffins were originally used to unload supplies while the other people parachuted out by normal means, but they needed something much stronger this time being so close to the city and their war machines. The boxes were an obvious choice. If they could handle a knock around from 20,000 feet, it could probably last a couple of rounds from a machine gun.
"Dunno. Thing just cut out on us," the intern said in a casual voice as if noting a fly in his soup. Hilary, not exactly appreciating this lack of respect, irately relieved the young man of his seat. She sat down and put on the headphones, leaving the stunned and slightly amazed intern to gape at her as she spoke into the mike.
"Hello? Do you read me?" The voice on the other end was gravelly and tinny.
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you- wait, you're not Jim. Who's this?"
"Hilary Mustang, at your service for the day, Mr.-"
"Horris. Mr. Horris. Don't care what rank y'are, I'm Mr. Horris to you." Mustang smiled slightly. He was a grizzled old pilot that didn't take crap from anyone, screw their rank or how many gold stars they had. Mustang's father had been on a company with him on a campaign out on the Eastern Front when Crete got a little too touchy feely. She nodded and said, "Whatever you say, Mr. Horris. Now, back to business." Her eyes suddenly hardened to two black chips of rock as she asked, "Mr. Horris, did your Crash Coffins pass their pre-flight inspection?"
"Hell yeah, they did. Those boys did a bang-up job makin' sure they was right and tight. Not a screw loose outta any of 'em," Horris said with an air of pride. Mustang noted this. She then asked, "All right, what about the mid-flight check? Was there one?" There was silence at the other end. Mr. Horris was probably vacillating while the plane rode on autopilot. There was a sound of contemplation from Mr. Horris before he said, "You know, those boys did so good with it, I didn't think a mid-flight check was needed. I didn't take one. Why, somethin' happen?"
"That's what we're trying to find out, Mr. Horris," Mustang said as she typed a couple of commands to Program. She answered back quickly, but in a disgruntled manner as if annoyed at being disturbed with whatever she was doing. Mustang frowned at the answers she was getting. These didn't make a whole lot of sense...
There was a sensor inside each box that acted as a tracker that would immediately report back all information to the plane. She didn't know who went into what box, so she had no idea how a sensor would just stop functioning at only 500 feet in the air. Malfunctions like these happened a little bit earlier, closer to 10,000 feet. The one that made it to the floor and konk out was even less explainable, considering the fact the sensors were made for impact. There was no way a fall could destroy them. The sensors had been dropped from the very top of the Hole, for heaven's sake, and they'd still survived the impact. Something wasn't quite right. The readouts that came back with them were troubling too, especially the life support readouts on oxygen and carbon dioxide usages...
"Thank you, Mr. Horris. That's all I needed," Mustang said. She took off the headphones, and she pointed a finger at the intern. She raised an eyebrow and said, "Your spunk may be cute in the classroom, but out here, badasses equal authority." She walked off, leaving him in her wake as the other interns and most of the senior communications officers watched her walk out.
The young intern eloquently answered to this: "Dude."
"How much farther?" Edward whined. They'd been hiking for days. Okay, days was an exaggeration, but Ed had no sense of time out here in the dunes. Everything looked the same. The sun was always too high and too hot. He was sweaty and stinky. He'd been dropped from 20,000 feet, and he would very much like to go and crawl in a bunk, sleep for ten days, and give the world colorful hand signs it might not like. Georgia, fed up with hearing this for what seemed to be the five millionth time, grumbled, "We get there when we get there." Kojak snickered, unable to be at a loss for mirth in this situation. Nirvana had done much the same thing, but she'd finally shut up after the four millionth time. It seemed she and Ed were taking turns chafing away at Georgia's nerves, along with Imal's incessant humming and Alice's chattering.
They were probably a couple miles further inland than they would've liked. The caravan they should've caught was a couple miles behind them, and they had to walk to catch up. If they didn't, they'd be wandering the desert blind for the next week before the caravan came back, except going the wrong way. Caravans in the desert generally didn't like to stay there for longer than they had to. Unless they were native desert tribes that had sprung up out of the Ishbalans that had fled to Xing or Drachma, they were usually Aerugonese and Cretan tech-merchants who didn't want to be out in the hot sun for too long. Besides, Patron City, a country within itself, was powerful. Lingering in their lands could be an implied threat, one that they didn't take lightly.
"You said that nearly a mile ago," Ed grumbled under his breath, looking off. He hated the desert. It all looked the same. He didn't like it. He hated the feeling of being lost, and this was as lost as someone could get. If it weren't for the little GP-whatever-thingie in Georgia's hand, they'd all be lost as blind mice. The disconcerting uniformity of the dunes was getting old. He needed something to break the pattern out here. He looked around a moment, and suddenly his eye caught something strange. He could've sworn something had moved out in the dunes...
"Hey, guys, we're the only ones out here, right?" Edward asked warily. Time had honed his senses to fine tipped points that could sense the barest of stimuli, and he never doubted his instincts. There were times where they'd saved his life just from the sheer knowledge that he wasn't alone. He had that feeling now, and the hairs on the back of his neck had risen. He tightened his grip on the knife he had at his belt, as well as turning his automail into a hard, metal fist. Nirvana noted Edward's obvious wariness, and she too was suddenly on alert as she extended her own senses. The others were continuing on, other than Nirvana, Ed, and, of all people, Imal.
The dark-skinned boy sniffed the air and frowned. Alice looked back with a puzzled expression and asked, "What's the matter with you three? Come on, we've got to keep moving!" The others of the group had also began to notice the reluctance of the three in moving forwards. Edward suddenly took a sweep of sand in his hands, clapped them between, and removed three glass slivers, throwing them. They turned into whistling death, silent and invisible as they hit something very solid. There was a cry of pain, and very suddenly there was the glitter of pixels as fifteen warriors with large spears seemed to appear out of thin air, circling the entire group.
Ed's eyes widened as he stared at them all. They weren't Ishbalan, but they had much the same desert-worn weariness about them. None of them had facial hair, and their faces were thickset and muscled leanly. Their eyes were hard as granite, their hands worn with many little scars that were white against their dark skin. They wore desert clothing, drab and worn cloth that covered their bodies loosely along with a turban that covered most of their faces in shadow, but a strange sort of sheet lay around their feet, and he realized they'd been camoflouged with some type of chameleon-like cloth. Their Crash Coffins had the same technology. A spike of panic was being driven into his stomach, but he wasn't the type to give way to fear. He stood his ground, his hands in a fighting stance. There was plenty of sand, which meant plenty of silicate. Plenty of silicate meant a lot of glass, which was sharp.
They stared at each other for a few tense minutes before Georgia breathed, "Kaida?" One of the darkskinned men straightened up curiously from his fighting stance, his weapon's point dipping towards the ground. He cocked his head to the side as he straightened up reluctantly and asked in return, "Georgia?" He had a thick accent, but the name was recognizable. The other men watched the two, and Georgia said, "Kaida, you know us. We're not enemies. We were supposed to meet up with you. How long have you been tailing us?" Kaida hesitated, and he said in a whisper quiet voice, "These are dangerous times. They have been at it again. Slaving. We're being cautious. They've found ways of putting on another skin, and we wanted to be sure." The other men seemed to relax as Kaida straightened. The man that Edward had wounded winced as he grasped the fine, glass needles and removed them. Edward winced and said, "My bad. I thought I saw someone-"
"No, it's all right. You are... very skilled. Not many realize our presence before we attack," the wounded man said. Richie walked towards him and said, "I'll take care of it." The other men greeted the others, and it didn't take long for Ed to realize that Kojak and Georgia knew most of them by face, if not by name, by the way they very freely hugged or talked with each of them. He walked over to Imal, and he asked, "Who are they?" Imal, lifting an eyebrow, asked, "Didn't you read the brief or at least listen to it?" Edward scratched his face with a finger with a slightly guilty look. Okay, he'd been mentally preoccupied with other things at the time. And the brief was so dry and boring he'd chucked it in favor of playing his favorite little finger game on his commie. He couldn't help it!
Imal sighed in deference, and he answered obligatorily, "They're part of the Han-See tribe. They're very stealthy, considering they're usually hunted as slaves. They're very prideful. I used to be one until my caravan was destroyed. I'm the last of my tribe. The rest are all in Patron City, held as slaves or worse." Ed frowned at this serious piece of information. Imal did look an awful lot like the other men, though his facial structure was finer and more delicate than the other, more thickset men. He wasn't the right build either. It occurred to Ed he didn't know how he'd been adopted into the Elric line as an honorary brother. It also occurred to Ed that everyone in this group may have ulterior motives for going to Patron City other than what was essentially grocery shopping on the black market.
Imal had an ax to grind, and could possibly be trying to locate his people. Alice was in it to get medicine for her mother. Kojak was here for Mustang, and Gray had no choice unless he liked his ass filled with lead. Nirvana's motive was the 20th century alchemical notebook, and Georgia's probably went further than just Oasis, too. Richie was just here to be here. Even Ed himself wasn't here just because of Oasis. He'd figured that he'd find answers in Patron City considering his disappearance and slip into the time stream. Father was somehow tied to all this, he knew it. He just had to figure out how.
They started moving again. Ed suddenly wished that they'd dropped an Octis along with everything else. Damn, was he tired! Just like the one trip he'd taken with Armstrong into the desert, the heat sapped his strength. The memory of the strange, wayward Major caused Edward to feel a pang. Sure he'd been weird, but at least he'd been familiar. Armstrong was reliable and a good friend, something he couldn't say for sure of the people he was traveling with. They weren't like the other military officers. He hadn't entrusted his life to them yet, not fully. He'd yet to give them the complete and total benefit of the doubt on anything. There was a difference between being forced to trust someone and trusting them because you knew they were capable and would do everything in their power to keep you alive.
The unending desert landscape continued, and Ed felt homesick again. Despite the fact this was the same country he'd been born it, it was clear that this place was much, much different. Ed suddenly realized he wasn't sure what green looked like anymore. It hit him like a freight train, and he felt an unexplainable feeling of panic. However, it faded as he recalled his home, of all the vegetation and the sheep in their grazing pastures. How different it was from this barren wasteland...
"Ed, snap out of it. We're almost there," Nirvana said with a harsh tone of voice. Ed snapped his head towards her with a glare, and he realized he'd been daydreaming. Why was she so tense? Another feeling of foreboding took him over, and he frowned as he followed Nirvana's line of sight. His eyes flashed open wide as he blinked.
The city was on the horizon. It was absolutely humongous. He couldn't see the end of it. That wasn't amazing in itself, but the fact that from this far away, and he could tell it was far, he could actually see it. The skyscrapers were massive, dotting the entire skyline with spires. A massive chasm separated the city from the rest of the desert. It was like an empty moat, and Ed didn't know how deep it was, but he had no doubt that if he looked down it, he'd never see the bottom. It wasn't long before the massive chasm was visible, nearly a mile wide.
"It's about time," Alice muttered. Ed had to agree with her. The city's skyline was farther back, believe it or not, but that just gave to the vastness of the entire thing. That meant that the skyscrapers were probably bigger than they actually appeared, and they were inside. Little dots flew by, and Edward realized that they must have flying transports given the city's immenseness. He swallowed, suddenly daunted. If he thought their aboveground was big, their belowground had to be absolutely monstrous.
"LOOK OUT!" Ed twirled around, realizing too late that someone had him the back of his shirt. He shouted, flailing about in confusion as someone hefted him on top of something. He had a brief glimpse of someone hauling away Alice before he heard screams and shouts. Several more cries were heard, including Imal's voice screaming over the others as Alice was carried away. Ed realized that he was in a cage of some sort, and he was about to clap his hands when something hot touched the back of his head, and he very suddenly blacked out.
Nirvana watched the attack with an air of dim detachment. She'd watched with blatant amazement as Ed and Alice were snatched away from them, loaded into caged trucks. These slavers were professionals, and she felt sick to her stomach. She should've known this would've happened. She should've anticipated and watched for them. This close to the city, they were always around, waiting for unsuspecting refugees hoping to break lucky. They had ways of getting over the Abyss without being detected. Technically, slavery wasn't allowed in Patron City, but the slaves were too convenient to get rid of them. They did most of the illegal labors in the city, and besides the Homunculi that ruled the city hardly cared. The more strife they poured into the city, the more the people fed the circle that the city sat on top of. The front that they put up as being an ordinary city in the middle of the desert was just a facade to entice refugees from poorer countries to attempt to make a better life for themselves. It was a trap of the worst kind: false hope.
It had happened so fast, the Han-See hadn't even been able to retaliate. These slavers must've been part of the Pitt group, the best of the best. Families could be torn apart by them, and they wouldn't even realize it until they stopped to count how many they had among them. The only reason why they weren't taken from the ground was due to the fact that there were warriors among them. Nirvana should've sent the Han-See ahead in their camoflouge before trekking forwards, and shame on Georgia for not saying anything either. There was a cloud of dust, and the two slaver trucks with their wire cages and human cargo were gone in the dust.
"ALICE! DAMN IT, LET GO OF ME! ALIIIICE!" Imal was struggling against Kojak, who had the boy pinned to the ground by his arms. He jerked and bucked, but he couldn't throw off that giant bear of a man. Zhang said wearily, "Leave it, Imal. She's gone. You can't fight all of them on your own. Even you can't run as fast as they can drive." Zhang's face was weary and worn out, as if the entire ordeal had aged him by years. Nirvana suddenly realized that Zhang and Guun had never seen a slaving raid happen. It was practically myth in Xing to keep slaves, though they did have a caste system, though it was hardly used any more. Both of them were green, and she didn't blame them. There were a lot of things that could happen to two healthy teenagers on the slave market. Especially for a girl who was as pale as Alice happened to be. Edward, too, his gold hair and eyes were prized. He'd be sold to the highest bidder.
"What do we do? Leave them?" Kojak asked. He let go of Imal once he'd stopped struggling. His face was hard and set. He looked out towards the direction of the trucks. The Abyss wasn't far. Getting across it would be the easy part. Georgia shook her head.
"We need Alice. She can patch up a link to Oasis in seconds without getting caught. Anything going to a foreign source arouses suspicion. Imal's good, but both of them are better. Ed is our best alchemist, though that won't help him much once he's within the city," Georgia reasoned. The sand was the only sound for a few moments before Nirvana started walking towards the city.
"Where are you going?" Richie asked, his voice strained with both fear and resignment. Nirvana only said, "The city. We can get them back." Everyone frowned as they looked at each other. Kojak, though, seemed to be catching on. He began walking with Nirvana. He looked back and shouted, "Hey! Ain't like the mission's disappeared now that we're missin' a few of our group. Keep walking!" The others, realizing the logic behind this reasoning, began to follow Nirvana and Kojak.
It wasn't long before Kojak caught up with the platinum haired alphysicist. He rose one salt-and-pepper eyebrow at Nirvana. Sensing his eyes on her face, Nirvana flickered her own at him before turning back to the front.
"What?" Kojak gave a slight smile. He also looked forwards, noting the Abyss and its proximity. It was almost two miles away, the city being a scant three. Thin bridges that looked like nothing but slivers in comparison to the chasm spanned, small checkpoints at either end checking in refugees and migrants. They wouldn't be entering that way. It would be too likely they'd be recognized or found out for what they were.
"You'll be getting them back, huh?" he asked calmly. Nirvana nodded somberly. Kojak shrugged.
"And how'll you do that?" The voice came from Grayson, who was now catching up to the other two. Nirvana stared at him with a dubious look. Grayson shrugged and said, "I'm curious. Come on, you can't really think we expect you to leave them, right? You've never done it before." She rolled her eyes. Was she really that predictable?
"Yeah, I'll be getting them back. It'll be easy. We'll play it their way, much as I hate it. Besides, this can work to our advantage, them being slaves," Nirvana said. Her eyes shifted back to the others. Georgia was watching her, and no doubt she could hear everything she was saying. The old cow had had hearing augmentations done while in the surgery nearly three years ago after a certain incident. Nirvana kept walking, paying no heed to Georgia's sharp-eyed look.
"How do you get something back and everyone stays happy?" Nirvana asked Grayson. The man chewed over it for a little while. He realized it in a moment, and he gave her a grim look.
"You buy it."
Nirvana nodded. Kojak laughed as she said, "Exactly."