"You must be Balthier!" I turn in my seat to see a bangaa behind me, dressed head to toe in merchant's linens and leathers. His dark eyes are panicked and enraged. "There's been a ransom on my dear Penelo and your name is posted on it!" His claws waves in front of his face and Balthier slouches lower in his seat and his composure is kept well. Penelo? Vaan's girl?
"This is all a grave misunderstanding," Balthier says smoothly. The bangaa snarls weakly, a violent spirit not quite engraved in his obviously gentle nature.
"You are Balthier and they sent after her with you as the ransom!"
"As I said, a misunderstanding," comes the calm reply.
"Misunderstanding!? What I am understanding is they took Penelo because of you!" the bangaa snaps, his rough voice raising.
"What? What about Penelo?" I sigh upon seeing Vaan, my head spinning yet again from trying to understand the unfortunate circumstances surrounding me.
"Oh, Vaan!" the bangaa cries. "They've taken Penelo!" He turns to glare at Balthier with his dark, angled eyes. "And there was a note—a note for this Balthier! Come to the Bhujerba mines, it said." Fran sighs, straightening.
"It's Ba'Gamnan. He was in Nalbina."
"If anything were to happen that sweet child—why, I've her parents' memory to consider!" The bangaa's eyes grow fierce. "You're going to go to her aid and that's that! It's what you sky pirates do, isn't it?"
"I don't respond well to orders," Balthier replies sharply. "You do know that the Imperial fleet is massing at Bhujerba?"
"Fine, then I'll go!" Vaan offers, desperate. I shake my head, leaning forward to catch his eye.
"Alone? Vaan, that's far too dangerous. Those headhunters are mad."
"Then come with me," he fires back. He looks at me and Balthier. "You guys at least have airships, don't you?"
"I've been without wings for some time," I admit, sinking lower in my seat. "Otherwise I would." The memory of the Castean's rumbling life and warmth nearly makes me want to burst into a screaming tantrum about how this just isn't fair. Vaan turns to Balthier.
"Fine. You just get me there, and I'll find Penelo myself."
"I'll join you," a man offers. It takes me several seconds to realize it's Basch, with freshly trimmed hair, a clipped beard, and new, cleaner armor. I scan over the new captain and give my mental approval. "I have some business there as well."
"An audience with the Marquis, by chance?" Balthier asks with a renewed interest, a sly smile tugging at his lips at the end of his words.
It reminds me just how much this man is in this for his own personal gain, save for a few scraps he trails behind for Fran. It reminds me how much I truly despise him despite his humor and his charms. I suddenly feel suffocated sitting between him and his viera. There's a dead silence that follows before Vaan shakes his head, holding up the glowing orange magicite he stole from the treasury only a matter of a few days ago, at the very most. It feels like yesterday alone was ages ago.
"Balthier, just take us and this is yours," the boy pleads.
"The gods are toying with us," Fran practically groans. Balthier sighs, giving in and pushing himself to his feet. Fran follows reluctantly.
"Make yourselves ready. We leave soon."
I eye the crystal in the thief's hands and dare to toy with the thought of snatching it and running for half a moment before shaking my head and leaning back in my seat. I stare at Fran's half-empty bottle, settled beside a thin glass. I suppose she's done now, isn't she? Vaan hurries to catch up with Balthier and Fran only to pause and look back at me, watching me stare longingly at the drink across the table with a boulder in my gut. Can't wait for Jonan.
"I take it you're not coming."
"No," I reply dryly.
I want nothing more to do with them. If I get caught in the chain now, it'll be one thing after another before we're too tightly packed to leave the middle. Balthier is really the only one I can't stand; that's not the issue. The longer I'm with them, the more the Empire associates them with me. I've been through this all before. I'm not digging any more graves. I'm not leaving on any more adventures. I'm can't… Wait.
Vaan is halfway down the stairs by the time I stand, running to catch up. He looks startled but pleased with himself. This is my ticket out of here. Basch doesn't question why I'm joining them, but he watches me with wonder in his tell-tale eyes as we leave. The bangaa follows us out before calling a goodbye to Vaan and heading back down the streets.
"I'm gonna go pick up some potions," the boy announces, turning and running back toward the bangaa merchant.
As we traverse, I stop to lose the three remaining and casually lean across a wooden stand when its vendor turns away, resting my palm on a tome-marked book. The energy from its surface bleeds into my skin, soaks whispers of magick into my mind. The merchant growls, beating me away with shouted threats but he's too late. Thanks for the free ice spell. I grin, dodging people and heading for the aerodrome at a steady pace.
Balthier's hesitation makes perfect sense, I suppose. Who would walk straight into a death trap formed by your mortal enemies for the sake of a life you've never truly seen for what it was? If he was to die, his death wouldn't exactly be legendary. Balthier doesn't strike me as a man who wants a death as simple as a bullet to the head or a blade to the throat. No, he'd look for more explosions and fire than anything. Still… What bothers me is the bribery. And it shouldn't. Am I not a pirate too? A thief, a gambler, a murderer, a cheat, and a heartless bastard who runs at the nearest sight of danger merely to mock my enemies and their pain? Why, then, do I find myself wishing I could tear his narcissistic head off? I sigh, ruffling my hair as I step into the aerodrome at last. What was in that madhu?
The bustle of the port feels natural and right as if nothing ever changed and I'm here ready to board the Castean after a long day of drinking and shopping around and joking with Dern. For a minute or two, I let myself believe that lie, refusing to turn around where I know I won't see broad shoulders and a bright grin and instead taking in the smells, the sounds, the sights.
People bustle here and there, chatting the whole way. The whole area smells of leather and machinery and mixed colognes. Just as I take a deep breath and feel a smile creeping onto my face, I meet Balthier's eyes and I'm slapped back into reality where there is no Castean, no joy, no peace. He watches me approach as if he's never been more bored in his entire life, arms crossed and hips rested against the firm brick wall behind him. Basch and Fran wait by the wide window, the captain talking to tall ears in a low but somewhat amicable voice.
"I see you've decided to join us," Balthier says, cocking his head to the side just the slightest bit. "Whatever for, if you don't mind me asking?" He raises a finger. "Nevermind that, don't say a word. You're getting away from Jonan."
"That's part of it," I shrug defensively. "More of an added bonus, though."
"Bonus to what?"
"No more crumbs for you," I reply firmly, forcing a smile. Something past me catches Balthier's eye. Upon turning, I see Vaan, the endearing magicite thief.
"I suppose as long as you don't cause me any trouble I don't mind bringing you along," he mutters, meeting my eyes. "And I most certainly don't mind leaving you behind, if anything." Vaan joins us then, so I shut my mouth, swallow my witty reply, and listen to what the sky pirate has to say, though it's nothing I don't know from personal experience or from Dern.
"Bhujerba's on the sky continent of Dorstonis, and the magicite mine we're looking for is there. If we're going to save the girl, we start there." He raises an eyebrow, watching an array of emotions flit across Vaan's face. "You ready to leave?"
"I'm ready." Vaan nods confidently, turning to face the window in a fit of excitement. This must be the first time he's been so close to airships, and most definitely the first time he's been able to ride one.
"We make for the Lhusu Mines then," Balthier explains. "Seems I took on more baggage in Rabanastre than I planned… Well, let's save your girl and be done with it. Come on."
"If by baggage you mean us, I'll have you know I'm a carry-on," I reply, fighting a smile. "Throw me in the belly of the beast and you may just find a few organs missing by the time you've landed, understand?"
"You truly are an interesting addition to the tale," Balthier sighs, motioning for the others to follow him.
The hangar is massive, steely and solid. Inside is an elaborate model of an airship full of bursts of gold, silver, and red, and well-designed parts just waiting to be pulled to pieces. I nearly choke on the urge to run and dig through all her parts, to find what really makes her stop and go. Every little segment of her frame is part of a mysterious island I have yet to explore and I want to trace over every inch as long as I won't miss anything. But… Considering the proud expressions on Balthier and Fran's faces, I highly doubt that will ever happen. But Fates would it be good to be covered in grease from the elbows down again.
"This is the Strahl," Balthier announces, hands on his hips. I give a low whistle, arms crossed.
"Color me impressed," I murmur, still practically undressing the ship with my eyes.
"She airship enough for you?"
Bursting with excitement, Vaan shoves Balthier's elbow out of the way and rushes toward the ship. To my surprise, he takes hold of my arm, dragging me with him. I'm not offended though, letting a bit of my childish energy go as I stare at all the details the boy is too inexperienced to appreciate. I'll let Balthier be prideful about this one; she's gorgeous.
"The Strahl… You really are a sky pirate!' Vaan cries, turning around to grin at Balthier.
"Well, the headhunters seem to think so," Balthier grumbles. The hatch drops down and so does a trio of moogles. "What's the good word? Is she ready?" The first moogle squeaks a simple affirmative, leading the other two off the ship and into the hangar. I wave as they go by, smiling back when one beams at me. Vaan finally seems to find his voice, jumping around and shooting rapid-fire questions.
"So, is she armed? How fast is she? Could she take the Ifrit?"
"And I hate to join him," I cut in, nodding toward the boy behind me. "But what sort of skystones is she running?" Balthier stops at the top of the ramp ahead of me.
"I suppose I could tell you, but…" he pauses, turning to usher us on board and flashing a charming smile. "Wouldn't you rather see for yourself?"
I turn back to Vaan, raising an eyebrow; he laughs, running past me and hurrying into the spacious entrance to the massive ship. I could probably fit three Castean's in here if I deconstructed half of one and crammed it in the wings. Balthier paces inside, trusting me enough to shut the door before joining everyone in the cockpit. Balthier and Fran take the front, of course, the Strahl whining as her engines and stones and mechanics start up at full force.
"How flies Bhujerba?" Basch asks, ducking underneath the door frame to enter the cabin.
"Oh, she's free as can be, for now," Balthier replies, flicking a few switches I take a moment to piece together, correlating the color, type, and position to what it controls. Vaan stands beside me in the place where I hover over the two, though he's quite a bit closer than I dared to be. I know how much concentration on-the-fly directives can be, even if you've done it a thousand and one times. "The Empire took notice when they announced the Princess's unfortunate suicide and your untimely execution."
"If it becomes known that I am alive, the Marquis will lose their favor," Basch says sternly.
"I try to steer clear of such things," Balthier replies, though it's more under his breath than out loud. He flicks two more switches and the power light fully blinks on. Evidently less elaborate than the Castean's board, but I like them difficult. I suppose my life's a good situation for me, then. "Right. It's time to fly." I fall into the seat behind Fran and next to Vaan, Basch sitting behind me. "And no wagging tongues or you're like to bite them off."
We rise up out of the hangar slowly, light flooding in as the ceiling opens up to let us through. Carefully, the Strahl is righted and Balthier signals for Fran to turn up the speed. Seconds later, the force of the ship's momentum throws us all into our seats, but it's nothing I'm not used to. I'm used to it faster than Basch and most certainly faster than Vaan, who still looks like he's been plastered to his chair. Biting my lip, I lean over and rest my chin on the edge of Fran's seat, staring over the assortment controls that just beg to be used. Too bad I won't be around to try. Next stop, Bhujerba.