Chapter Fifty-Three
Sky Fortress Bahamut
Year 706 of the Old Valendian Calendar
Two fighters collided outside Strahl's windshield, bursting in a cloud of flames. Balthier jogged up the aisle, the others behind him. Basch and Larsa settled Gabranth's prone from in the hallway; somehow, the Judge was still alive, though he wouldn't be for long.
"Balthier-" Strahl began.
"No time for that now." Balthier dropped into the captain's chair. Fran took the copilot's seat.
"But-"
"I said no time." Balthier tapped three buttons above him and jerked a lever.
"Fran, how are things?" he said, not looking up from the controls.
Fran scowled at a monitor. "No fuel goes to the glossair engines."
"Blast!" Balthier stood.
"I tried to tell you."
"Yes, I know." Balthier motioned to Fran. "Fran, with me."
Balthier strode down the aisle as Fran stood. The ground under him shook, and he stumbled. Balthier caught a chair, managing to keep his feet.
"Look!" Ashe jumped from her seat and pointed out the windshield. "Bahamut's rings are stopping!"
Balthier followed her finger. The enormous glossair rings surrounding Bahamut's tower ground to a halt. There's no external damage on the rings; must be something in the engines.
Balthier's eyes darted to Rabanastre, the city sprawling out below. If Bahamut dropped out of the sky now…
Oh, blast.
"Vaan!" Balthier spun to face Vaan; Vaan jumped out of the seat he'd claimed seconds before.
"Uh, yeah?" Vaan said.
"You take the controls." Balthier jerked his chin towards the captain's chair. "I want you to take off the second Strahl's rings start moving, understood?"
"Me? You want me-? I mean… Roger!" Vaan nodded. He scrambled up to the captain's chair, eyes wide and fixed on the battle outside. Poor kid, but he was the only other person here who knew how. Balthier marched a few more steps, then spun around, pointing a finger at Vaan.
"You can fly her, Vaan," he said. "Just do it like I showed you."
Vaan nodded, and Balthier strode towards the door.
"Penelo." Fran put hand on Penelo's back, guiding her to the copilot's seat. "Watch for interference from Bahamut's nethicite. The Strahl's a fickle girl; you keep her working for us."
Penelo nodded. "I'll do my best."
Fran turned and followed Balthier out through the doorway.
Gabranth drew in breath after labored breath, each growing heavier and more difficult. Basch and Larsa knelt beside him, silent, sober. They both knew what Gabranth knew.
"Basch," Gabranth wheezed. "Look after Larsa, will you? If he were lost, House Solidor would crumble, and… civil war would take us all."
Basch nodded. "I understand."
"Thank you. I'd entrust him to no other's care. Lord Larsa is our last hope."
Larsa took Gabranth's hand. Gabranth let his eyes close.
I did it, Drace. He's safe… and Archadia goes on…
A wave of warm air, scented heavily of oil, hit Balthier as he swung open the door to Strahl's engine room.
"Fran, get the cell. I'll get things open."
Three canisters full of shiny black liquid stood along the far wall. Fran started towards them, and Balthier knelt next to a hatch to the right of the main engine block. A gash on his left leg stung as it met the floor. He clenched his teeth. With adrenaline pumping during their sprint off of Bahamut, he'd almost forgotten his unhealed scars from Venat's rough handling.
Bahamut, which was going down. That was something Balthier couldn't afford to forget.
"Strahl." Balthier made contact with her as he worked to open the fuel hatch. "I have to get back on board the Bahamut and get her engines working, or the whole blasted fortress is going to flatten Rabanastre. You think you can stop your engines from engaging until I get off?"
"What? I… I think I could," Strahl said. "But go back onto Bahamut? Balthier, are you crazy?"
"Strahl, I need you to work with me." Balthier pulled a panel off the wall. "I can't just watch. You understand that?"
"I… do." Strahl sighed. She shook her head. "Fine. Fine, I will. But you're the leading man, remember? And the leading man never dies."
Balthier arched an eyebrow. "Ever heard of a tragedy?"
"This isn't one." Strahl's voice was insistent. "You will come back."
"Here. It's ready." Fran came over, cradling a canister of fuel like it was a newborn.
"Ah, Fran," Balthier said, turning from the panel. "I need you to go back up to the cockpit, help the others; I'll finish here."
Fran set down the canister and perched a hand on her hip. "I'm coming with you."
Balthier blinked. "Excuse me?"
"To Bahamut. You're going, aren't you?" Fran raised one eyebrow, the rest of her face still as a statue. "To stop it crashing?"
Balthier sighed. Am I that easy to read? "Fran, I can handle this. Stay-"
"I am coming," Fran said. "Bahamut's a large ship; its designs were very complex. You'll need help. Besides, you're hurt."
"I am fine," Balthier said. He shook his head. "Look, Fran, there's no time-"
"Then let's go."
Balthier locked gazes with Fran. Her taciturn features showed no emotion and no sign of backing down. Balthier heaved a sigh.
"Fine." He grabbed the fuel canister. "Let's hurry."
Balthier loaded the fuel, then he and Fran sprinted for the exit. Balthier halted in the doorway.
"Strahl. Thanks for the help. Couldn't have done it without you."
"Good luck," Strahl said, sulking. "You'll need it."
Balthier sighed. "Don't let Vaan crash you, alright?"
"Like I have much choice." Strahl shook her head. "Oh, Balthier, hurry! I can't hold much longer!"
"Right." Balthier rested a hand against the doorway. "Hang in there."
"You know I can't feel that, right?"
"Balthier!" Balthier turned his head at Fran's voice. She arched an eyebrow at him. "Are you coming?"
"Of course." Balthier pulled his hand away and followed Fran.
"Vaan, the power's back!"
Penelo's cry set Ashe's heart jumping. Penelo leaned over the console, golden light reflecting on her face.
"Alright, here goes." Vaan rested his hand around the acceleration handle. "Hang on to something!"
Vaan pulled, and the Strahl shot ahead. The sudden acceleration threw Ashe against her chair. Vaan's eye bulged, and he grabbed the steering wheel.
"Look out!" Penelo shouted. Vaan jerked the controls, and the Strahl veered, narrowly avoiding a resistance fighter. The fighter sailed by them, throwing a volley of blasts towards an imperial fighter behind.
"The radio! We need the radio!" Ashe said. She stood, tottering a moment as the Strahl tipped.
"Penelo, look for that, wouldya?" Vaan said, eye fixed unblinkingly on the tumultuous sky ahead. Penelo glanced around, then grabbed a mic from the wall on her right.
"Got it!" she said.
"Hand it here!"
Larsa strode into the cockpit, one hand held out. Penelo placed the mic in his white-gloved palm. Basch stood behind the prince, face grave.
"Address all ships in Rabanastre's airspace," Larsa said. He squeezed the mic and held it to his mouth.
"This is Larsa Ferrinas Solidor. My brother Vayne has died with honor in battle, and the imperial fleet is now under my command! All quarters cease fire! The battle is over. As of this moment, we have signed a cease-fire with Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca. Her Royal Majesty." Larsa smiled and held the mic out to Ashe.
Royal Majesty. People only ever called my father that. I can't even stand 'Highness.'
Breathing deep, Ashe took the mic from Larsa. She held it to her mouth.
"This is Ashelia Dalmasca-"
"Lady Ashe?" Marquis Ondore's voice came through the radio, cutting her off. "Thank goodness you're alive!"
"Uncle, I confirm what Lord Larsa has said," Ashe said. "Everyone, stand down your attack. The war is over. Ivalice looks to the horizon." Ashe swallowed. Her Royal Majesty… "A new day has dawned. We are free."
Ashe let her hand fall. Divisions of fighters veered away from each other. The flashes of red flying from the domed sides of dreadnaughts ceased. The sky grew quiet. Ashe's hand around the mic at her side went slack.
We are free.
And I'll be queen.
The image of the peaceful battlefield, backed by a sun just touching the mountains in the distance, blurred with a watery haze. Ashe's breath caught in her throat. She didn't know where the tears came from. She swallowed hard to hold them back.
A firm grip pressed Ashe's shoulder. She turned her head to Captain Basch. She met his eyes, and he gave a single nod.
"Look, Vaan!" Penelo jumped from her seat and pointed across the console. "The Bahamut!"
Ashe followed her pointing. The massive Sky Fortress Bahamut pressed into Rabanastre's paling, the shield rippling blue as it warped under the tower's immense weight. Ashe's eyes widened.
"No!"
"This is Judge Zargabaath, captain of the Alexander, flagship of the 12th Dalmascan fleet," A voice forced itself through static and out the Strahl's speakers. "The Bahamut must not be allowed to fall on the city of Rabanastre. We are preparing to ram her. Do not interfere."
The dreadnaught Alexander swung portside, twisting to face the falling Bahamut, engines readying.
"Madness!" Ondore's voice came.
"If she falls, the paling will not hold, and all Rabanastre will be obliterated," Zargabaath replied.
Ashe dropped into a seat, the one right behind the captain's chair, where she usually sat. Her hand tightened around the microphone as she listened to Zargabaath's instructions. Larsa and Basch sat as well, as Vaan steered the Strahl farther from the Bahamut. Basch frowned grim, and Larsa dipped his head.
"I address all ships in Rabanastre's airspace!" Zargabaath continued. "Concentrate your fire on the Alexander's remains once the Bahamut is clear of the city!"
Another voice, thick with so much static Ashe could barely make it out, sounded through the speakers. Ashe breathed in the faintest gasp, and her head jerked up.
Balthier?
An explosion far above rattled the catwalk under Balthier's legs; fire raged, debris fell. The engine room was falling apart around them. Balthier frowned at the power terminal before him; a panel covered this small, square section of the central column. His eyes darted between the bolts at the four corners.
Just have to get the sheeting off… Why don't I carry more tools with me? I just need a-
Balthier reached into his pocket and pulled out his wrench. He hesitated. Ffamran Bunansa stared back at him; the words reflected the light of fire somewhere above. Balthier sighed.
Oh, do some good for once, won't you?
Balthier slapped the wrench on the first bolt and started cranking. Marquis Ondore and Judge Zargabaath's argument crackled through the tiny speakers of the wireless microphone he'd swiped from the control room as he and Fran went by. He was glad he'd taken it; Zargabaath's talk of ramming didn't sound helpful.
Balthier flicked the mic to transmit.
"Hasty, aren't they?" Balthier said, moving the wrench onto the second bolt. "I think it's a little early to be throwing away our lives just yet."
"Balthier, is that you?" Vaan's voice came through the speaker. "Where are you?"
"Ah, Vaan. Sounds like you made it out alright. The Strahl's a fine airship, eh?" Balthier grabbed the now loose panel and pulled it off. Four-inch power cells, glowing neon green, tumbled out. Balthier sighed.
"What's going on? Who is this?" Ondore's voice crackled.
"Marquis! Stop that fool Judge on the Alexander for me, would you?" Balthier said, picking up one power cell and the steel casing supposed to cover it. "We're just getting somewhere with these glossair rings." Balthier looked over his shoulder. "Right, Fran?"
Fran knelt several yards away, working on the terminal for the glossair rings control.
"Almost finished," she replied, not looking up.
"There we are," Balthier said, turning back to his own mess of an engine block. "Can't have Zargabaath ramming us before we're done."
Something large crashed into the catwalk behind Balthier. Smoke, dust and heat blew over him. Balthier jerked up an arm to shield his face.
"Balthier, you're on board the Bahamut?" Ashe said, voice clouded with worry. Somehow, Balthier was glad to hear her voice, even crackling with static. "Do you understand what you're doing? You have to get out of there! You can't die!"
Balthier recalled the last talk he had with the princess, in this very room. A bit less smoke and fire, a bit more confusion. Balthier didn't want to think about it. Not Reina, not now. There was to much confusion around all that to worry about there and then, and too much confusion to die and leave it all behind. Balthier inserted the power cell into its shell with a sigh.
"Princess! No need to worry." Balthier pushed the cell into the orifice waiting for it in the open engine block. It slid it with a click. "I think you're forgetting my role in this story of ours. I'm the leading man." Balthier pushed the second cell into its slot, then picked up the third. "And you know what they say about the leading man? He never dies!"
The third cell clicked into place. Green light shimmered up the length of the column above, humming with life. Oh, yes. Balthier jabbed a fist in the air, smiling.
"Let's fly!"
Bahamut shuddered, damaged walls creaking as the thrusters fired, pushing it back into the air and away from Rabanastre. Now they just needed lift to keep them there.
"Fran, power to the glossair rings!" Balthier called. No reply. He turned. "Fran?"
Fran lay unconscious on the scuffed metal, crackling debris scattered over her.
Blast.
Balthier rushed over and knelt next to her. Still breathing… Balthier lifted her into a sitting position, pulling one of her arms over his shoulders.
"Fran, wake up! Come on, Fran."
"Balthier!" Ashe's voice came. "You have to get out of there! There's so much… we have to… Balthier, you can't die! Not now. Please… Please come back."
Balthier's gaze drifted to the mic gripped between his thumb and index finger as he held Fran's shoulders. A little green light blinked on its side. Ashe's desperate voice drifted from the slotted lines of its speaker.
"Ashe…" He wanted to say something, but nothing would come.
"Popular, aren't we?"
Balthier's gaze snapped back to Fran's face. Her eyes were barely open, a faint smile on her lips. Balthier heaved a sigh.
"Fran. Please."
Fran rested her head on Balthier's shoulder, closing her eyes. Balthier looked over at the terminal she had been working on. It had been thoroughly smashed by whatever hit Fran, snapped wires sparking, blueish liquid dripping from broken pipes. Pieces of walling stuck out of the machinery like hunter's spears. Balthier's heart dropped like a rock.
This ship will never fly again.
This ship is going to drop out of the sky.
"Balthier? Balthier, are you still there?" Ashe said.
"Ashe." Balthier held the microphone to his mouth, eyes still locked on the unsalvageable power station. "You can see the Bahamut, can't you? Are we clear of the city?"
"Yes, I think so," Ashe replied. "Balthier, what's going on?"
"Bahamut's going down," Balthier replied. He slid one arm under Fran's legs, the other around her shoulders. "But don't worry; I have no intention of being on it when it does."
Balthier stood, lifting up Fran. His bad arm ached. He couldn't help but think Ashe hadn't been this heavy.
Balthier scanned the room. Fiery debris dropped through his vision. There was the walkway, the stairway, the large doors at the top. A massive slab of debris pressed against the door. Balthier knew he could never shift it. The strength drained from his limbs.
"Oh, blast…"
The walls creaked. Balthier looked up, squinting through the stinging ash drifting down. Bahamut's frame shook as the massive ship began its uncontrolled descent.
"Balthier, what is it? Balthier?" Terror gripped Ashe's voice. She must've known something was wrong, yet she still asked, because she didn't want to believe it. Balthier didn't want to believe it.
I am going to die.
Balthier raised the microphone slowly to his mouth. His mouth was dry. He swallowed hard.
"Vaan! I want you to take the Strahl, you hear?"
"What?" Vaan's voice came.
"My airship. She's yours. Take care of her." Silence. "You understand, Vaan?"
"I… Yeah. I will," Vaan replied. His last word disappeared into a haze of static. The microphone let out a high-pitched whine. The green light on its side went red. Balthier stared at it, then let it drop from his hand. He shifted his hands, getting a better grip on Fran's lengthy frame. He looked down at her unconscious face.
"Just you and me, now, I suppose," Balthier mumbled.
Boom! A wave of heat hit Balthier's face as blue light burst from the side of the central column; splintered metal flew back. Balthier cringed at a familiar throbbing in his head.
"Oh, honestly!" Balthier sighed, glaring at the open wound in the metal structure. "Can't I even die without nethicite showing up?"
Balthier scowled at the stone, nestled among bare wires. Its blue light added to the harsh fiery colors glaring off dark metal. So he really did modify nethicite to focus myst for glossair engines. But it's not as if it can help us-
Balthier ran through the scientific calculations in his head. A faint glimmer of hope brought strength flooding back. He did them one more time, heart rate doubling. A current of energy focused through a single point forced organic matter instantly from one point to another: that was basically the principle behind how warps worked. Scientists had been trying for years to put that theory into practice; normal myst didn't work, normal magicite didn't work. But one piece of modified nethicite, one burst of mysterious, ancient power- worth a try, at least, wasn't it?
Gathering Fran closer, Balthier started towards the gash in Bahamut's central column. The catwalk rattled under his feet, smoke tickled his throat. Balthier gritted his teeth, reaching back in his mind for that power he knew rested there. No response.
Oh, come on. I know you've done a lot today, but I need just one more favor.
A thousand problems with this plan sprang up in Balthier's mind. He had no way of knowing where they'd end up: a few inches away, a few miles- high in the air, underground, underwater. More than a fifty percent chance it'd be one of those.
We'll die if we just stay here! Now, wake up…
Thump-thump. A chill rippled through Balthier's chest, clogging his breath. Fran cringed in his arms, a whimper escaping her throat.
That's it. Balthier knelt in front of the central column. The nethicite's energy made the cold, dry sting of air and power in his lungs worse. Balthier lowered Fran, resting her on the metal in front of him; he kept one hand around her wrist. Balthier reached over Fran's limp form and grabbed the nethicite; he hissed in pain as hot stone seared his palm. The deathly cold flooding his body erupted into white-hot heat as he forced it out. Fran's arm shook in Balthier's grip. She whimpered again, forehead furrowing.
White light flared around the nethicite. Balthier jerked his face away, closing his eyes against its brilliance; the light stained the inside of his eyelids red. His lungs burned. His heart pounded against his chest as if it could no longer stand the conditions inside and wanted to abandon ship. Fran cried out.
Balthier clenched his teeth, throwing into that swirling tide of terrible force one wish.
Get me off this crashing airship!
Dust washed over Balthier and Fran as something impacted behind them. Balthier felt the heat of flames on his back, rivaling the heat of flames inside. Balthier coughed; smoke and dust choked him just as much as the static in his lungs. A mighty explosion sounded, ripping through Bahamut's frame. The screeching of metal buckling filled Balthier's ears, louder than the crackling of the flames. Balthier looked up, eyes widening. The roof and walls bent, cracking under impact with the ground.
The edges of Balthier's vision blurred black. The heat was too intense, he couldn't tell anymore, if what he felt what his own power or the raging fires around him. Balthier realized his eyes were closing.
Oh, no… I'm sorry… Ashe…
White filled the last crack of Balthier's vision as his eyes closed. Then all went black.
End Part Two, Act Four: Ashes
End Part Two: Clash of Empires.
Whoa. Whooaa... I think... No, wait, this is the last chapter of Part Two. So this is the last chapter of Final Fantasy XII: A Tale of Hidden Powers The First Installment. That means I have to check the completed box? Yipes.
But the story goes on. Next release (July 11th) I'll be starting a brand-new FFnet story: Final Fantasy XII: A Tale of Hidden Powers The Second Installment! I'll see you there in two weeks!