The Games We Play

Chapter 23: Transfer



DISCLAIMER: This story is NOT MINE IN ANY WAY. That honor has gone to the beautiful bastard Ryugii. This has been pulled from his Spacebattle publishment. Anyway on with the show...errr read.

Transfer

With the deal established, there were still a few problems to be dealt with. The biggest issue in any trade like this—and in this case especially—was the exchange itself. There's an enormous risk in the simple process of handing things over, for several reasons.

The most obvious, of course, was that no one involved trusted one another. They didn't like each other, either. Indeed, one might go so far as to say they might wish to see the other die horribly. I didn't have any particularly strong feelings towards Schnee, except in that I hated what his business did to innocent people, but I was pretty sure he was starting to hate me, admittedly with good reason. Given that, it would have been pretty foolish of me not to expect treachery, should I give him the chance. As he had several dozen Hunters backing him up, any number of whom could likely have taken me in a fight, that was more than a bit problematic.

Luckily, I was aware of that and, hopefully, ready for it.

"Very well," Schnee said. "Come down."

"I think this conversation will go more smoothly if you don't assume that I'm an idiot," I said, sounding amused. "I don't think so."

He gestured to the people around him, a stalling motion.

"As you've said, you have us at a disadvantage," He said. "We aren't going to do anything, I swear on my life."

"But I don't care about your life," I replied. "I do, however, care about making it more difficult. No."

If he'd been less experienced, less professional, I'm pretty sure Schnee would have been grinding his teeth. Instead, he simply nodded, looking cool and collected once more.

"Then shall we arrange a location for the trade?" He asked. "We can each release our prisoners into the grasps of a representative, if you wish."

I hummed, smiling as I shook my head.

"Why waste time?" I asked, sending a message to Levant as I braced myself. "We're both busy men, after all. Let's make this quick and simple. You let him go…and I'll let her go."

I released Weiss and she fell with a sudden shriek.

"Weiss!" He shouted, jerking forward a step uselessly. I saw several Hunters tense, preparing for something—but all of a sudden, Weiss fall slowed and began to reverse, rising back up to eye level with me. Weiss stared at me with wide eyes, looking down at the enormous distance between her and the earth. Her scream continued for a moment before she seemed to remember to cut it short, but the sound off pure, honest terror in it made me feel nauseous. She was gasping now, horrified as she danged helplessly in the air, but she didn't say a word, didn't beg.

Despite how I felt, I looked at her with a smile, fingers gently splayed in her direction as I made it look easy. Behind me, hidden by my body and cloak, Levant leaned into me, resting her forehead against my back as she did all the work. Her small hands grasped fistfuls of my cloak at the effort and I sent her a mental apology.

"I'm sorry," I said truthfully, to Weiss and Levant both, and then elaborated on it with a lie. "That was ungentlemanly of me. I just wanted to see how you'd react, Schnee."

I dropped my gaze, scanning his face and status screen, and then lifted my eyes to Weiss' own.

"Your father must love you a great deal," I said, knowing the words would mean something to her. "If you could see his face…but there's still things to do before that, no? Schnee, I'll send your daughter down to you, so keep you end of the bargain and send him on his way."

The white-haired man snarled something unintelligible, gesturing sharply at the gathered Hunters. When Adam began to move, none of them reacted and Levant began to lower Weiss, slowing her descent rather than stopping it. At my mental command, the White Whale began to slowly rise again.

"I'll withdraw somewhat to ease your worries," I told the people down below as I watched Weiss. She shook slightly as she dropped, but remained silent as she grit her teeth. "I'll even allow you to send someone up here to fetch her, though I encourage you not to try anything funny while your daughter's in the sky. No weapons, no Hunters, no Dust."

Without a word, I saw someone break free of the crowd, rushing towards a nearby Bullhead. I checked their level absently and didn't say a word as I went back to carefully watching Weiss.

The truth was, I needed someone to come up and get her. Levant didn't have the power or range to get her all the way to the ground, but I couldn't very well admit that, allow them to see weaknesses, limits—which meant I couldn't force them to do what I wanted. I could, however, make them want what I wanted, and since I wanted Weiss somewhere safe, it wasn't even hard.

It just left me feeling sick. I didn't want to do this—not that that meant anything since I had done it—but the truth was…

I took a step back, into the cover of the ship, and withdrew my scroll again.

'Can you get Adam to safety?' I asked Blake.

'Yes,' She replied simply.

I hesitated for a minute before writing a longer, more personal message.

'I'm sorry,' I said. 'I guess I failed, huh? I was supposed to help you prove that methods like this weren't needed, but…I couldn't let them take one of my friends or stop us now. I guess I really am…"

I sent the message without finishing it and there was a long pause before she replied.

'Where are you going to pick us up?'

'I'm sorry,' I sent again. 'But at the very least, I will save them.'

I closed my scroll and didn't open it even when it started flashing again. I went back to my vigil, looking at Weiss as we moved further and further apart, watching the people far below her to make sure nothing happened, and carefully monitoring the approach of the Bullhead, adjusting my speed accordingly to make sure he'd reach us in time.

The truth was…

I couldn't go down there. It was too dangerous; the moment I was on the ground and Weiss out of my clutches, they'd take action and put me down. That had been the real trap behind his words—they all involved me coming down.

And I just couldn't do that. The entire point of holding Weiss hostage and being up here was that it rendered the Hunter's tremendous offensive power meaningless. They couldn't strike at me from this range, wouldn't. So long as that was true, it didn't matter that half of them could bend me into a pretzel in a fight, but it should go without saying that the benefits of a hostage faded the moment you let that hostage go. Once the girl was safe and I was close enough for them to bring their full power to bear, none of Mr. Schnee's promises would mean anything.

Though, really, I was pretty sure they didn't mean anything to begin with, especially not to him, which was the only reason he'd made them. But the point was, if I landed the White Whale, there wasn't a chance in hell of me getting it back off the ground.

His second suggestion had a bit more merit on the surface, which just meant there were more dangers in it. If I landed on the ground at a place of my choice and met with a representative, I could check that person's level to make sure they were safe to approach, minimizing the danger.

From that one person, at least. The fact remained that I would be on the ground and I felt certain that a bunch of Hunters would be just outside whatever they decided was a safe range, ready to rush me the moment the girl was safe. Perhaps even more dangerously, it would give them time to field plenty of other airships to intercept me even if I did get off the ground—and, more likely, to just bomb the White Whale to keep it from ever getting that far. It would also give them time, which I couldn't allow, because every minute they had gave them more time to plan, to prepare, to call in more reinforcements.

If I dragged this out, if I went along with their plans, it would do nothing but hurt me. And I absolutely, positively could not touch the ground. I couldn't even get near it, really, keeping in mind the powers Hunters had. If I did, I'd probably have a few of them jumping up and carving their way inside my ship and I'd be worse off than before.

Which begged the question; if I couldn't afford go near the ground, how could I get Adam and Blake onboard?

Simple. I couldn't. The same thing that kept any Hunters from reaching me would stop them as well. Levant couldn't lift someone that far, especially someone at the edge of her power instead of the center. The problem with picking them up here were obvious and I couldn't get them somewhere else because I knew that enemy aircraft would be on me to moment I was away from here. If I stopped and gave them time to organize and attack…

Worse, since this ship could fly faster than Blake and Adam could run, if I wanted to pick them up somewhere else, I'd need to slow down or wait—and since the White Whale was so big, there was basically no chance of losing pursuit unless I stuck to the original plan.

I was leaving them behind.

God.

I hadn't been kidding when I said I knew how terrifying it could be to be on your own. It's easiest to exploit fears that you yourself knew well and this was one I was more than familiar with. I thought I'd gotten over it, stopped being the kid waiting at home for mom and dad, but the thought of this, of being by myself while surrounded by enemies, of facing danger with no help or backup or safety net, without my most powerful allies…

It was scary, frightening even from a calm, logical standpoint. I wanted to run away.

But I'd meant the other thing I told Weiss, too—everyone wants to run away at some point. It's those who have the option and refuse to take it that are brave. There were people who needed me and I was going to save them. And…

I watched the Bullhead reach Weiss and closed the doors, turning away. A rush of windows appeared before my eyes, skills improving and being created—Bluff, Intimidate, that type of thing. In the midst of it all appeared a larger window, however, and I focused upon it.

A quest has been created!

Atlesian Skies: Flying Solo.

Fly alone to Mantle in the stolen White Whale to continue your quest! Time Limit: Two days.

Completion Reward: Exp 1000000.

Failure: Death.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," I muttered, accepting the sub-Quest. "Stupid quest, telling me stuff I already know. But you're wrong. I'm not alone."

Levant touched my hand and gave me a reassuring smile, even as a low, almost-inaudible tone rang through the ship. My Elemental spirits were always with me—but it was more than that. Even though I left them behind, I knew Blake and Adam would be waiting for me to return. And I still remembered—would never forget.

The people who had my back, the home I had to come back to, and the things I needed to stay alive to do.

I wouldn't give up any of those things.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm getting sick of this place, too, guys. Let's fly."

We took off before I even reached the control room, Crocea Mors moving on ahead of me to get things started. The situation was far from ideal, sure, but I wasn't completely unprepared for it—taking off alone had been the last resort, but it was something that had been on the table form the beginning. It made a few, or a lot, of things harder, but I'd always been the one in charge of getting us to and from Mantle so this part didn't change all that much.

It was going to be more dangerous than I expected, granted, but that was starting to become the story of my life. By the time this was all over, I'd probably be able to write a book about it, or maybe an autobiography; 'Jaune Arc: It Was Worse Than I Expected.' Originally, it was supposed to be a little more subtle, or as subtle as you could make the theft of a giant airship.

Which is probably more than you might think, again because of human nature. I'm sure the empty space where a colossal airship used to be would be noticed in short order, if not immediately, but there'd have been confusion, with most people probably wondering what the hell was going on and complaining or wandering off or whatever but generally deciding it wasn't their problem. Once it reached someone whose problem it was, questions would arise that needed answering; what was the pilot doing? Can you contact him? No? Then what about the other pilots? The command center? Can someone force the ship to lower safely?

When all that failed, the reality of the situation would probably have settled in and they'd have contacted the right people, but at that point there were still infrastructural concerns. Whoever's at the desk needed to take the message, figure out what was going on from who was calling—and odds were there would be a lot of people calling—and then pass that up the line to whoever was going to get their day ruined handling the job. Odds were that they weren't already strapped into their aircraft, so they'd need to suit up, get in, and take off.

All in all, between time wasted and time needed, confusion and disbelief, I'd have given myself…at least three, maybe five minutes before anyone knew what was happening and maybe up to twice that long before anyone mobilized a response. If everything had gone according to plan, I could have had a ten minute head start—maybe fifteen. Even against fighter-craft, that's a hard difference to make up; I'd have been out of town by the time anyone figured out what I'd done and getting dangerously close to the danger zone by the time anyone caught up.

Under the circumstances, however, it seemed safe to assume that would not be the case here. In fact, I felt pretty sure that word of my actions had been circulating even before Weiss was safe, and that there were probably several pilots and ships on standby, which meant I'd have company a lot earlier than expected. Hell, if Ironwood wasn't calling in reinforcements right now, I'd be stunned.

I'd like to say I had a plan for how I was going to deal with that, but the truth was that it was a bit of a work in progress. The basics remained—I still needed to get out of the city, over the mountains, and into Grimm territory. I just needed to do it under fire against much smaller, more mobile ships.

Hopefully not a problem.

I pushed the White Whale as hard as I could and felt gratified at its immediate response. I used Crocea Mors, still deep within the metal of the ship, to monitor it and was glad that everything seemed to be functioning as expected. Nature Affinity's passive boost to Dust effects seemed to be functioning as expected, improving the fuel efficiency, speed, and maneuverability of the ship to give me a much needed advantage. I still had a few of those to rely upon, thankfully—my Elementals, my skills, my location, and the situation.

The latter two were, initially, the most important. What I was doing now…it wasn't something anyone could have been prepared for, not really. Airborne enemies were hardly new to Remnant, but the cities defenses had been largely designed to keep them from getting to the most populated areas of the city—but the White Whale had been stationed in the richer part of the Commercial District. I was now flying along its length with buildings far below me, Forever Fall some ways to my left and the Residential District some ways to my right. I had a little breathing room here because so long as I didn't attack—which I wouldn't—I could be relatively sure that they wouldn't try to start a fight, much less bring down the White Whale, over a populated area. They'd try to get people in position to watch me, monitor me, guide my path towards a place I could be safely disabled if they could, and even try to bring in specialized ships or even transport Hunters if possible—but they wouldn't want to start a fight where innocent people would get involved if they could avoid it.

Normally, that wouldn't be an issue because if, say, a murder of Giant Nevermore flocked to the area, they'd be seen far off and civilians would be sent into the shelters, but I'd effectively spawned inside the enemy base and while they were probably moving people as quickly as they could you can't evacuate such a large area that quickly. Initially, at least, they'd want me out of the city—it's just, they'd want me grounded moments after that.

And yet…I still had the edge. I thought I might have, at least, but the logic made sense. Again, I was pretty sure this was a new one for everyone involved and it wasn't a simple issue to deal with. If it's shooting the enemy down, that's one thing. If it's shooting the enemy down before they reach some location, that's harder but still doable.

But forcing a much larger ship to fly the way you wanted? Without attacking or even touching it?

That's something completely different. It's a tactic that doesn't lend itself well to three-dimensional movement, because of basic geometry. If you imagined the volume of space above Vale as a sphere for the sake of simplicity, and you considered the White Whale as the center of that sphere, then my path to escape was the sphere's radius—a line from the center to any point outside of the city. I needed to take one of those paths to get out of the city, but I could choose almost any path, ignoring the ones heading in a direction I didn't want.

But they had no idea which one I would pick—how could they, when even I wasn't sure now? To them, I could travel any route within that space, leaving them to guard the spheres area, its circumference. They had a much larger amount of manpower then I did, but they also had a far more difficult job. They'd want to guide we towards a specific location, but the added dimensions of up and down meant that method that worked on the ground tended to be completely ineffectual in the air, especially against an opponent as large and fast as me. They could try to predict me or spread out enough that at least some of them would be able to get to me, but in this first move, I had the advantage.

For a while. Once they could get Hunters aboard crafts that moved fast enough, they could literally just drop them on top of the White Whale and let them claw their ways in through the hull to get to me. Or sabotage the ship. Or both; it didn't really matter, because I'd be pretty screwed either way at that point.

I twitched once and then sighed.

Speak of the devil…

Crocea Mors continued to hum a warning, spotting something through his eyes in the ship's hull and alerting me of incoming ships. I closed my eyes for a moment, suppressed the urge to swear, and decided on my path, turning my behemoth of a ship a bit further South.

There was no way of telling if my pursuers had Hunters aboard, but the way my day, week, and life was headed lately, it seemed like a safe assumption to make. Given that and seeing as they were the greatest danger to me—at least until I left the bounds of the city—there was only one this I could really do.

What they didn't expect—and what they feared.

Levant placed a hand over mine and felt Crocea beneath my fingers. The former gave me a reassuring smile as I closed my eyes and drew in a breath. I felt that same air in my lungs, felt more on my skin and beyond it, beyond the ship itself. I felt the ship humming beneath my feet, felt the parts and pieces that caused that feeling deeper yet, engines and tubes and more bright to my senses. My Aura, my soul, flowed through that immensity, guided along certain paths towards my decided purpose.

It'd tried this before, several times. Hadn't been able to make it work the way I wanted to, but…necessity was the mother of innovation. The design was different and so was the purpose, but it was easier to gather because I wasn't focused on making it small or focused or deadly. In fact, it wasn't anywhere close to what I'd been trying to make, but…

"Close enough," I muttered as the seconds passed.

And then I pulled back hard, bringing the White Whale up into a turn that must have shocked anyone watching. I didn't have the time or patience for a larger turn, so I made it narrow, barely wider than the ship was long, pushing it beyond what it's makers probably intended. As I reached the top of the circle I couldn't help but absently note that I could literally see my house from here.

The moment passed and I pulled the trigger.

"Fragarach," I named it as I unleashed the incomplete attack, a rush of air and steel combined clumsily into an attack that flashed across the sky, a mostly unsuccessful attempt to combine two affinities in one spell. A single bullet from the White Whale lashed out, curving in midair in a burring arc that lashed past—and just above—the wings of a ship before continuing its turn to approach another before puttering out. The first ship wobbled roughing and began going down, while the second shook for a second, as if facing turbulence, before steadying.

I watched the falling struggle for a moment, spinning, before recovering enough to hover in place for a moment, apparently a close save. I glanced at its fellows as I completed my turn, shifting my gaze to my Map to keep track of them.

"Prototype," I added with a sigh.


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