Author's Note: I hate to say this, but you probably shouldn't expect another chapter for a couple of weeks. Finals coming up.
Chapter 26
"Vaan, please! I really think you and everyone else down there should evacuate to Lowtown or the Palace," Ashe said in exasperation to the comlink on her desk.
"Aww, Ashe, don't worry about us. We can take care of ourselves. We're just going to be in the hangar. We need to get the Strahl its tune up and work on our own ship. We want to be ready to help!"
"Vaan, you shouldn't take this threat lightly. You've only just recovered from a serious injury. I want to be safe. I appreciate your offer of help, but you are a citizen, not a soldier. I'm obliged to see your safety before your service."
"C'mon, we all fought against that dragon in the Golmore Jungle! We can help! Don't forget to call us when you need us," Vaan replied happily and with a buzz of static, the line went dead.
Ashelia did not refrain from hiding her frustration when she clenched her fists and growled. We did face some pretty tough monsters during the hunts. I suspect they will be fine, she tried to reassure herself, but the same uneasy feeling she had before Balthier had gone was plaguing her now.
She forced herself to step away from her desk and began smoothing the cloth of her dress as though she were trying to soothe her own worries. No, Ashe, you do not need to send a squad of soldiers to ensure their safety. They are more powerful than even all of those soldiers combined. If they cannot be safe, then no one can be and no amount of soldiers you send will make them safer, she kept telling herself, but idea of sending Geoffrey and a couple of soldiers over there was becoming more appealing by the second.
"Geoffrey has more important matters to attend to than your personal whims. Your people need you, now pull yourself together."
You also thought Bal—, Ashe forcefully cut her own thoughts and winced when she felt a twinge in her stomach. She wasn't certain if it was the pregnancy or something else, but when her thoughts were particularly dark and turbulent, her body would begin to ache. For the health of her child alone, she had vigorously worked to keep a positive attitude. The doctor reminded her that stress would affect the baby and implored everyone else to not push her blood pressure.
It was partly this that made Ashelia tell her people the news of the pregnancy right after she informed them of the dragon running amok. Tension had been escalating the last month: Balthier's death, the council stubbornly standing against her on every issue, the onset of war in Rozarria, and finally her failure to prevent that. The days had started to feel like those one's they had lived just after Rasler's death, and she refused to stand silent any longer while a pall of despair hung over the city.
She was relieved to hear that it had done the trick in lifting their spirits. The dragon may be bearing down on them, but the queen was with child! Their country would still stand its ground despite the hard times.
As much as it pleased her to see the optimism, worry tugged at her heart. She and the council had received the detailed reports of the result of the Vance-Rozarria war, and she now felt considerably more pity for her friend Al-Cid's country than previously. Vance had seen devastating losses in their ranks, but then the dragon had appeared from their side and proceeded to decimate Rozarria's army. Soon after it had moved onto the country's cities and citizens, and like a storm there seemed to be no way to stop it. Ashe had winced at the number of casualties which increased with every report, so she was alarmed when Rozarria started sending her warnings that it was heading to Dalmasca.
Thank you, Rozarria, she silently mused, As little as I thought of you for pursuing that war, your friendship with me never faltered.
A knock on her door shook her from her thoughts and she asked, "To whom am I speaking with?"
"Lieutenant Auberon, Your Highness."
"Come in," she replied. He let himself in and bowed. "What news do you have?"
"All of Rabanastre has been evacuated and many people from the surrounding countryside have also temporarily moved into Lowtown."
"Very good. Anything else?" She asked.
"Yes, we have received a message from Rozarria saying that they are flying up to provide assistance in waylaying the dragon," he replied.
Ashe narrowed her eyes in puzzlement. "Why would they expend excess forces to help us when many of their cities and towns have been left in ruins? That makes little sense."
"Perhaps they want to maintain goodwill towards their allies?" Geoffrey suggested with a dubious shrug of his shoulders. "They did say that in their work against the dragon, they discovered a way to prevent it from causing too much destruction. Unfortunately, there's still no way of controlling what direction it will go."
Ashe nodded. It continued to bother her, but after a moment she sighed in resignation. So little seems to be making sense anymore.
oOOo
Where they sat, all was silent save the irritable thrum of the engine. Balthier swallowed the nervous feeling developing in his stomach and he briefly wondered if Sard and Sari's throats were also locked. Sard was unusually quiet, sitting as motionless as a statue with his eyes closed. Only the slight rise and fall of his chest suggested he was still alive.
He felt Sari shift beside him and was surprised when the words suddenly started spilling from his mouth. "For the gods' sake, Sari, go sit in a seat more suitable for a pregnant woman."
"I'm fine! I'm not even showing yet," she replied
When he felt guilt welling up in his chest, he deliberately stamped it out. She needs to stop clinging to me and she needs to take care of herself. "Why should it matter whether you're showing? If you were Ashe, I'd be telling her the same thing," he said.
Sari glared at him. "If Ashe were here instead of me, you'd be in much more plush conditions and none of this would be happening," she said.
"Sari, it's important that you go be in comfort while you can. You might think it a wonderful opportunity to catch another man while you're up there, since as far as you should be concerned, we're all dead! And the dead do not suffer the living."
Her eyes glinted like chips of ice as she studied him. Then, without a word, she grabbed her violin case and suitcase and departed. Balthier watched her go with a schooled face. He jumped when he turned back to find Sard giving him an equally unreadable stare. "I have my existence under wraps to protect my own wife. Sari should not suffer anymore than her," he said. Why am I explaining myself to him?
"This wouldn't be a problem if you humes never made attachments," Sard replied before he closed his eyes again, and resumed what Balthier took to be meditation.
It was the right thing to do, he mused even as he resigned himself to a deathly silent flight.
oOOo
Tension hung thick in the air when Rozarria's reinforcements finally arrived the next morning. The dragon was still south of the city, rampaging through an abandoned village with a squad of soldiers attempting to monitor it as inconspicuously as possible. Despite how close it was, Ashe insisted on being at the port when they landed.
Ashe remembered the flagship from the final battle that had been fought over Rabanastre, but she was taken aback when General Al-Tamir and a squad of troops were the only people who exited the craft. She set her expression into that of a small smile and nodded at Al-Tamir when he bowed and said, "Your Majesty, Queen Ashelia Bunansa, it is an honor to be in your presence once more."
"Thank you, General, and allow me to give you my utmost gratitude for being here to aide against the dragon. How fair your lands after the attack?" She asked.
"As well as can be expected. The recovery of our cities and people has already begun and we may spare our forces to ensure the rest of the world does not meet the same misfortune," he replied. "But mightn't we spare the formalities? I would prefer we move to a much more protected position for your sake, your Highness."
She conceded the need for urgency but something still puzzled her. "Is there no one else with you? I was certain Lord Al-Cid Margrace would at least accompany you back to his official post here."
"In this time of crisis, he felt it more appropriate that he remain with the royal family. At least until the dragon is eradicated," Al-Tamir said.
"I can understand that," she replied, sitting down in the hovercraft that would be speeding them back to the palace. It was as everyone was climbing into the craft that she noticed Sari had apparently taken the opportunity to head north while it was still available. Sari noticed her attention and nodded solemnly to her.
The ride back to the palace was surprisingly silent, but every time a question would bubble up, the queen would yank it back before it could leave her lips. Strange things have been happening of late, but it does not mean that the General has all the answers to the questions that have arisen.
It was as they were exiting the vehicles that a terrible roar shook the ground from beneath their feet.
"RRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOAAAAARGH!"
"Run, your Highness," Al-Tamir said and gave her a not especially gentle push toward the door.
Before she ran inside, she looked back and gasped at the monstrosity winging above the city. It folded its wings into a dive and swooped down just above the spires of the palace, but it was still close enough that they all felt its powerful back draft nearly sweep them off their feet. Ashe felt the warm sandstone scrape against her palm as she tried to find her footing again, and then she gasped in surprise when Geoffrey suddenly grabbed her.
"Hurry, my Lady! Find your way to the cellar! You should be safe there," he said after he led her inside and rushed back out into the punishing sunlight.
She chose not to argue this as she normally would have and made her way along the passages, down toward the cellars where much of the palace staff had taken refuge in lieu of the now very crowded Lowtown. Her breath hissed out from between her teeth when she felt the entire palace tremble with the pounding from the dragon.
Oh gods, have I sent them all to their doom? Geoffrey? General Al-Tamir? Stay safe, Ashe silently pleaded when she finally slipped down the stairs and through the doors into the windowless storage area.
oOOo
General Al-Tamir's flagship was, for the moment, abandoned in the hangar where all was quiet. It was disturbed only by the soft whirring of motors as the steps of the ship were lowered so that Balthier and Sard stepped out.
"You need to wear this," the creature suddenly said, pulling out his old helmet from his pack and tossing it to him. "Now that we're in familiar territory, we shouldn't risk anyone recognizing you."
Balthier was momentarily stunned and barely heard a word Sard said. He was home. This air? This burnt air was Rabanastre. The rustic sandstone of the desert was dim and dull in the closed area, but it was unlike any other hangar in the world. Gods, I am actually home. He was forced to shove the thought away immediately and he finally nodded at Sard, grabbing his helmet and forcing it on his head. Now is not the time to relish. This is only a short visit and you need to stay focused.
He was surprised to see the port seemed to be completely empty, but then he scolded himself, Of course it's empty! Ashe would have evacuated the city in anticipation of the attack. If the silence was anything to go by, then the dragon had not yet arrived, but it did little to soothe his heightened senses. He looked back at Sard who was giving him a drab look that clearly said, Stop dancing around and let's do what we came here to do. His calm presence was soothing in the tempest of emotions waging in him.
Balthier's felt his heartbeat skyrocket when he heard a disturbing clinking of tools, and then the familiar loud voices of Vaan and Penelo as they sniped at each other.
"Do ya think Ashe would mind if we tuned up the engine?"
"Vaan, I wouldn't do that if I were you. I'd leave that specialization to Nono or Fran."
"Oh, c'mon, Penelo? How am I going to learn to fix the engines of my own ship if I don't know anything?"
"Then make Fran teach you! Don't just go tinkering around in there for no reason!"
It was all too tempting to step in and snipe at Vaan for presuming to touch his precious ship's engine without consulting at least Fran first, and he had to flatten himself against the wall just outside his ship's hangar door to compose himself. Sard took the opportunity to lean around him and take in the picture before him.
"We have to be quiet," Balthier said in a barely audible whisper. "Fran is a viera and she would hear our conversation if she's outside the ship."
Sard pulled back behind the wall discreetly. "The viera?"
"Yes. She's…the strongest. If you cause them more injury than simply stunning them, I will personally skin you alive," he whispered.
"Relax. I know all the tricks to incapacitate without hurting a target," Sard replied.
"You focus on Fran. I'll put Vaan and Penelo to sleep with a spell. If you come across a brown-furred moogle, be sure to drag him aboard. I'll need a navigator," Balthier said, feeling the sweat trickling down his forehead from the nerves.
"Ready?" Sard asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Count to three and I should have a sleeping spell ready by then."
There was a moment of silence as Balthier began muttering the spell, then Sard strode in nonchalantly. Penelo and Vaan almost immediately stopped their banter and turned to him with puzzled looks on their faces.
"Err…who are you?"
Balthier had left his own hiding spot and sent the sleeping spell towards the two orphans just as Sard pulled his sword out.
"Huh?"
"Wha—"
Penelo and Vaan had not even started to scramble for their own weapons before the spell fell on them and they were slumping where they stood. Fran tried to fend off the creature with the wrench, but he whipped it from her hand and brought the sword down on the back of her neck. Balthier could not keep from flinching as she crumpled at the creature's feet and silently said, I'm sorry, Fran!
Sard picked the viera up and stowed her behind a crate and then he went back to stash the orphans too. "When you are finished standing there, I would suggest you help me or hunt down that moogle you were talking about!"
It was enough to shake Balthier from his stupor and he climbed aboard the ship, pulling off his helmet and shouting, "Nono! Nono, are you in here?"
"Engine room, kupo," a voice trailed from below and Balthier dashed down there. He almost came to another complete halt when he found the moogle hovering at roughly his eye level working on a part of the engine that he had peeled the plate back from. "What do you ne—" Nono turned around and his eyes widened to saucers. The tool slipped from his paw and clattered to the floor in his shock.
Balthier took the opportunity to rush across the rest of the distance and pin the moogle against the engine. "Ba-Ba-Balthier! No, it can't be. Pleeeeeeeease let me go!"
"Shhh shhh, Nono, it is me. I am not dead, but you have to be quiet, Nono! As far as you're concerned, I'm still dead. Now, I'm going to take my hand away. Please do not scream," Balthier said as calmly as he could, pulling his hand away from the poor moogle's mouth and then finally backing up a few paces. "Listen, Nono, I need your help. I have to take the Strahl up and destroy that dragon. You have to be my navigator."
"Why me? Why not Fran, kupo?" The moogle asked, tilting its head up inquisitively at him.
"I need to keep my identity concealed, even from Fran. If I encounter one of them then I can dismiss my personal mission altogether. Please, it just has to be this way," he said and he let his head fall in defeat. He truly did not have the energy to argue this point.
"Very well. I will assist in your efforts as a navigator," the moogle said.
"Balthier, did you find him?" Sard's voice carried down to the engine room.
"Yes, we're coming up."
He turned around and found himself face-to-face with the creature. "Good because the Occuria is attacking the palace."
Balthier shoved Sard into the wall as he pushed past him and dashed to the cockpit. "We still need to warm the engines for five minutes before we can depart. Be sure you have everything, Sard!"
oOOOo
Ashe was not sure how long she had stood by the door to the cellar, waiting for news, but it felt like an eternity. She had to close her eyes and inhale a deep breath every time the walls of her palace shook. A deathly silence filled the air after the latest tremor and it took her several minutes when she suddenly realized the palace was no longer trembling. But what did that mean? She asked herself. Was everyone dead or did they manage to stop the dragon?
She very nearly jumped in surprise when she heard the clatter of footsteps on stone and smiled when Geoffrey tore around the corner. The expression on his face wiped the smile away immediately and she asked, "Lieutenant, what's wrong?"
He panted for breath for a moment and she could see his eyes roving across the floor as though he was searching for his answer there. Finally it came: "Someone's stealing the Strahl!"
Ashe felt her blood run cold as she stared at Geoffrey. Who would be foolish enough to steal my husband's ship? She rushed past her guard, completely disregarding the danger, and looked for the first window that overlooked the port and she stared out desperately, hoping it wasn't true. But there it was, hovering over the city and she felt her heart plunge.
She furrowed her brow in confusion when she saw it turn toward the palace, but a sudden darkness let her know the dragon was still in the city. There was a flash from the ship and tiny explosions showed that whoever possessed the Strahl was shooting at the dragon that now turned to focus its attention on it. Another volley of shots flew into it and it roared in annoyance, once again taking to its wings and flying northward. The Strahl did not hesitate to follow.
It must be Fran, Vaan, and Penelo. There can be no other explanation. This is why they refused to evacuate the city, Ashe reassured herself and a small smile graced her lips. Then she turned to Geoffrey and said, "Scramble our fighters. I want them in pursuit of the Strahl. Try to contact the pilot; I would like to speak with them."
"Yes, your Highness, but we've already tried to raise them and failed. They have deliberately jammed their communication," Geoffrey said.
"Try again!" He seemed surprised by her abrupt manner, but she did not back down. He nodded and left her to stare out the window as the dragon and her late husband's beloved ship grew smaller with the distance.
oOOo
After a couple of hours of chasing the dragon across the desert, Balthier no longer felt comfortable he was safely unidentifiable in his ship and pulled Sard's helmet back on. As much as they chased the dragon, their fleet continued to grow with ships not only from Dalmasca, but from Rozarria and Archadia as well. And they were constantly trying to raise the Strahl. He would press a button to slice off communication every time, but he had his voice mimicker on hand should the need to use it ever arise.
All the while, Sard paced up and down the cockpit, completely on edge. "How can we expect to corner this dragon when all we've managed is to chase it?!" He growled from behind Balthier.
Balthier shook his head at his response and said, "We cannot afford it to take any innocent people hostage or cause anymore damage. I'll send you out on top to bait it soon."
"Excellent," the creature replied and then he came up behind him and leaned over to see all the ships that had gathered around them. "Can you think of a way to lose them? I don't care much for a crowd when I'm fighting."
"Not that I—" Balthier's eyes rolled up into his head and he could not keep a smug grin from arcing across his face. "As a matter of fact, I do have an idea. If I'm not mistaken, my ship should be the only one able to fly over Jagd. We can chase the dragon out to sea."
I knew there was another reason to steal my ship back, Balthier mused, but the smile faded when he thought back to all those years ago during his wife's strange journey. "You have to be quick though. I know Archadia had at least an entire fleet outfitted to fly over Jagd. It was destroyed, but I cannot tell you how many they were able to alter with their technology."
"'Tis a trivial matter, but if they do become an irritant, I may force you to stuff that radio down your throat and speak to them," Sard said. His voice had become increasingly deeper and more guttural as he spoke, ending in what sounded like a growl. His paws were clenched and Balthier could see that adrenaline was pumping through his veins as he mentally and physically prepped himself for the fight.
"If it comes to that, then I will. 'Tis a trivial a matter, but I do have a device that can hide my voice," he replied.
"Whatever it takes."
Three hours later found Sard slumped restlessly in one of the two chairs behind Balthier as the Prince-consort concentrated on following the dragon, even as it twisted and turned to get away from them. A particularly sharp turn caused the creature to groan and he snarled at Balthier, "Who the hell taught you to fly?"
"It would be amusing to see how you faired at the controls," Balthier shot back, knowing perfectly well his partner would never be able to fly the ship to save his life. Not that I'd let him near the controls of my baby, anyway, he told himself, sparing a glare back at Sard. His gaze softened when he noticed the creature really did look ill and he was clenching his teeth as though he were trying to keep from vomiting. "I would appreciate it if you could relocate to the restroom if you feel queasy, as I will personally see that your remains are scattered across the Sandsea if you vomit in my cockpit."
"I'm fine," Sard muttered.
"You had fair warning," Balthier replied. "You might want to prepare yourself if you haven't. We're over the Cerobi Steppe! Balfonheim is less than an hour away."
"About time!" Sard jumped to his feet and headed out of the cockpit. As they had wasted away the hours, they had discussed their strategy and thus far it seemed best the creature risk his life balancing on top of the Strahl trying to land a critical blow. It is ridiculous! There is no decent way to face this dragon unless it finishes with its boycott of the ground, and it knows perfectly well Sard has a chance to kill it. Three of the Occuria are dead, it is no mean stretch to think it won't die either, no matter how massive and powerful it is, Balthier thought, lamenting the weakness in their strategy, but it was all they had.
"Captain Bunansa?" Balthier glanced over at Nono, who glanced away from the controls with his big brown eye to focus on him. "I admire your friend's spirit, but I fear this is a bad plan."
"I don't like it much either, Nono. But it will have to do. Sard's an amazing creature. If anyone can defeat this monster, he can," the Prince-consort replied, his attention now focused back in front him.
It seemed like no time at all they were skimming over the water of the sea in front of them. Balthier's eyes flickered to his radio, listening to the babble on the other end until it suddenly fizzled and died. He grinned and picked up the radio to speak to Sard, though he took no chances and disguised his voice, "Sard, we're in Jagd. The dragon will have to get past us if it wishes to return to land. Now's your chance!"
There was a pause on the other end of the line and Balthier frowned in puzzlement before he remembered that Sard had listened to a completely different voice. "Hmm…okay. Try to keep the ship steady."
"Of course. Remember to tie on a safety line," the Prince-consort replied and he gave a chuckle of laughter when he got no reply.
"I'm up top. Run along side it," Sard shouted into the earpiece. He splayed his feet across the roof of the Strahl and squinted as best as he could against the wind tearing at his eyes. He tightened his grip on the safety line and subconsciously unsheathed the claws in his footpaws for better traction.
The dragon was racing along, occasionally flapping its wings to maintain height, but then it noticed the figure atop the ship that was slowly inching closer. It gave a bellow and then tilted its wings to loop and head straight for the figure on the roof. Sard pulled out the sword and held up a paw in a vain attempt to keep the window from tearing at his face.
Damn, it's going to snatch me off the ship before I can even get in a decent hit. Miss the teeth and aim for the neck, he willed to himself and tensed when the dragon swooped in, heading straight for the creature, its mouth open wide like a steel trap waiting to snap him up. Sard jumped out of the way, but the vicious wind sent him off balance and he only managed to land a single cut on its thigh as it rushed by.
Thunk! Sard's curse of misfortune was abruptly cut off when the tail whipped by and he barely managed to duck beneath before it sent him off the edge.
I'll be dancing like this for eternity if we keep this up. It will never give me a clean swipe, he thought to himself as he slowly stood back up. The creature turned toward the horizon and watched as the sun sunk lower, streaking the sky in vibrant yellow and orange. Perhaps an hour left in the day. It would be suicide to continue this fight after nightfall, and the rest of the world will have tracked us down and dragged us off the ship before we'd manage to get another crack at this. He ground his teeth together as he thought. A flicker of movement caught his eye and he scowled upon seeing that the dragon was returning when an idea suddenly lit in his head and he grinned.
"I need you to shoot the dragon so that it flies at a level below your ship," Sard suddenly pressed suddenly said and with a swipe of his sword he was cut free from the safety line.
"What? Why?"
"I have an idea."
"It would please me to hear it."
"Just do as I say!"
"As you wish."
Balthier chewed on his lip at this new turn of events wondering what card Sard had hidden up his sleeve, even as he complied with the request seeing that the shots were aimed to lower its height. It appeared to be on a trajectory that would swoop just beneath and off to the side of them. On a level below the ship? Obviously it's not to strike it with the sword or he— Realization hit him and he scrambled for the radio, pulling it to his lips and said, "No, no, Sard. Wait—!"
Too late. Sard had jumped.