Jett buried himself in a flurry of training exercises. As he'd been slacking for the past while, he rediscovered why he hated training to start with. It hurt. It was exhausting. It was the most evil thing on the face of the planet. Actually - the second most evil thing, because that first place pedestal was saved for a certain Kairg leader.

Even so, it let the time blur from one miserable hour of exhaustion to the next. The need to grow stronger pressed him forward, and the need to bury his troubled thoughts motivated him. When someone was bone-tired, it got kind of hard to worry about the world's impending doom.

Before he knew it, two days passed. And once more, visitors came.

He was up in a big old tree doing a set of handstand pushups while balancing on a thick branch, when a familiar beaten truck rattled its way towards the farmhouse.

Considering how the last visit went, he wasn't in any particular hurry to rush down and meet them. Even though his dying arm muscles begged him to stop immediately and do just that, he stubbornly decided to finish his exercise.

Besides, he told himself sternly, it was important to maintain his upper body strength – he was a flyer, after all.

The vehicle grumbled past below and came to a stop near the remains of the last fire he'd built. As the driver's door opened with a creaky groan, Jett slowly lowered himself so that his nose nearly touched the rough bark beneath him. His legs and feet were held straight above his body, wavering dangerously as he struggled to keep his balance.

He held the position for a long breath, watching as a familiar man stepped out of the truck. Jerrick. Following him came another somewhat familiar face. Mystery Man, Jett had dubbed him, since he'd never given a name or introduced himself when he first came to visit a few days ago.

Exhaling, Jett pushed himself back up, arms trembling from the effort. Admittedly, he was a little curious as to why Jerrick would come here, especially so soon after dumping him here. The last passenger disembarked, slamming the door shut enthusiastically. The sound was like a deafening cannon blast compared to how gently the first two people closed their doors.

"Is he here?" A familiar voice made Jett's brow furrow. Why was she here? It didn't surprise him, exactly, but it was somewhat baffling. Jerrick, he could understand. Mystery Man, sure.

But Callie? She had no reason to be here. Frowning, he lowered himself once more. He had to tilt his head back so he could see, and it was making his neck hurt.

"Hmm." The visitors gathered together beside the truck, looking around the place. Jett kept silent, even as he grimaced. The tremble in his arms grew more pronounced; it seemed like he was nearing his limit.

"I'll look inside," Callie decided, and started bounding towards the farmhouse door. She didn't even bother to knock or even call out. Instead, the door was unceremoniously shoved open. "Hellooo? Jett?"

"Just a second, Callie," Mystery Man called out. He wore a odd little smile, his gaze focusing on Jett's upside-down form in the trees. "He's over there."

Pushing himself upwards, Jett grunted softly. One more... should do it. By this point, he was fully extended, straight as an arrow from toes to hands. He could feel his muscles burning, to the point where it was painful. His side was angrily shaking its metaphorical fist at him, even though the bruises were faded and healing insanely fast, thanks to whatever it was Ra'Skevvor gave him.

That jerk.

All eyes looked towards him. It wasn't that hard to spot him, considering his suit was a blazing white mass in the middle of green foliage. For a second, he pictured a series of green leaves painted onto his white suit, wondering if that would help him hide in the trees. It could almost work, but what about when he flew? Did leaves fly through the air like birds?

"Hey, what are you doing up there?" Of course, Callie was the first to come over.

Intent on finishing what he started, Jett ignored her as he forced himself through one more push-up. Down, hold, exhale, lift. His arms nearly collapsed on him. Actually, they sort of folded like wet noodles.

"Urgh!" The bark came up to meet his face, and Jett had a horrible moment of panic. He failed with the only thing available, which was his legs. Things happened quickly, and somehow, he found himself falling back and down, his body swinging under the branch while his hands grasped desperately at the branch.

His weight broke his weak grip. He fell, and somehow managed to land on his feet in front of Callie. Sweat dampened his face as he sucked in a few deep breaths.

Jett silently congratulated himself. It was well deserved. Somehow, he managed to not collapse on his head like an idiot in front of everybody. His teachers would be so proud. On second thought, probably not. They wouldn't care.

He wiped his face with an arm, his gaze glancing at Callie before zeroing in on Jerrick. "Why are you here?" he asked.

"Hello Jett," Jerrick merely gave a small smile. "I hope we weren't interrupting you."

"It's fine," Jett said, a little cautious. Jerrick was here because he wanted something. Jett was smart enough to know that. "I was just finishing anyway."

"Good, good. Then I'll get out with it – we need your help with something."

At this Mystery Man nodded, as if confirming Jerrick's words. The man leaned back slightly, hands slipped into the pockets of his jacket. At first glance, he appeared completely relaxed, yet Jett's attention was held by Jerrick. He was more familiar with the former gang leader, and could tell that Jerrick was a little tense.

"What is it?" Jett hesitated before asking. For some reason, he felt extremely wary. Yeah, he agreed to help these people (because what else was he supposed to do?), yet wasn't it too soon? Or did they just have jobs lined up, waiting for a helpful flyer to come along and complete them?

Jerrick exhaled softly, growing serious. "Right, well – are you familiar with the city nearby? Mianka?"

Mianka? Jett knew the name. He'd only been in the city once in his life, and only for a short time at that. But never, ever would he forget the place. It was where Raven first found him, and showed him what it was like to smash through the windshield of a bus.

He folded his arms, trying to hide the shudder that suddenly came over him. "Yeah. I know the place. Not very well, though." Kinda hard to sightsee when you're laying half-dead on the pavement.

"That's fine, we have someone who can guide you," Mystery Man spoke up. He smiled gently when Jett looked over his way. "Basically, we need you to rescue someone in Mianka for us. Nothing too complicated, really."

"Rescue someone?" Jett repeated, not sure if he heard right. "Why would you need me for that? Isn't that something your people can do?"

"Well," Jerrick hesitated, then shifted his gaze to the side as he said, "he's being held in the Troit quarters."

Jett stiffened, his expression freezing in place. Did he hear right? "You want me to rescue a guy from Troit?"

"Yes, that's the gist of it." Mystery Man answered after a beat of silence, because Jerrick kept quiet.

"Did you forget that I'm on Troit's most wanted list right now?" A note of incredulity had entered Jett's tone. "Or is the plan for me to go turn myself in? Maybe they'll be so delighted they'll let the other guy go."

"Ha!" Mystery Man actually laughed, eyes squinting a little in amusement. "Wouldn't that be funny? No, we have no intention for you to do such a thing. It's just that .... wouldn't it make sense that a flyer, who's familiar with Troit, be the best person to infiltrate them? Obviously, you'd have to ah, disguise yourself, but it really should be a simple thing for you to get in and out."

"A simple thing," Jett flatly said. "Sure. Because I have no experience in being sneaky, picking locks, or other any kind of rescue type of stuff. I'm not a Scout."

An image of him standing next to Suil popped into his mind, both of them wearing matching identical Scout colors, just like twins. Why couldn't he have been kidnapped by a Scout flyer instead of a Talon? At least those guys seemed a lot nicer with their students. Less cruel, too.

Though Suil did get a broken arm once... Eh. He mentally shrugged off the thought. Suil's teacher never had an enormous jungle cat chase him around, or a giant herde of savage wild boars chase him across the lands. And he was pretty sure Suil's teacher never beat him up in twisted games of tag or threw him into the horrid Forbidden Zone, which was a giant jailhouse for the rejects of society.

Jerrick frowned, and the sound of his voice drew Jett from his thoughts. "You're the best option we have."

"Right," Mystery Man agreed. "We've had people watching the place for weeks. Unless you are a ghost, it's going to be hard to get past all the soldiers there. For us, at least. I imagine they will pose no difficulty for one such as yourself."

That was true. Normal soldiers would find it nearly impossible to catch Jett if he tried, but that wasn't what worried him. It was the whole announcing his presence to Troit thing. He might as well just stand on the rooftop and wave a giant flag while shouting, "Here I am! Come and kill me!"

With a shiver, he shoved that depressing image away. "Why does Troit have this guy, anyway?"

"He got caught with a minor blueprint," Mystery Man said casually. "Nothing major, but Troit deemed him to be a horrible criminal and thus took him into custody."

Jett folded his arms, trying to hide the sudden unease. "A blueprint?" Those terrifying war machines had been birthed by illegal blueprints, he knew. Even though he didn't like Troit's methods, they were right that technology was dangerous. It was better that it never existed.

Mystery Man sighed. "It was for a water filtration device. Nothing dangerous, I assure you. We aren't dumb, kid. We would never mess with any of the forbidden stuff. It's just that clean water can be hard to find, right? Our poor Stewart was just trying to help us out, and got caught at the wrong place and wrong time."

It was spoken casually, like it wasn't a big deal. Yet Jett got the vibe that it was more than that. Maybe Mystery Man was lying. Or maybe Jett was just being overly paranoid. In any case, the more he heard about the situation, the less he liked it.

"Look, Jett." Jerrick sighed, then rubbed at his brow. Something about the gesture made Jett realize that the man seemed tired. Exhausted, even. "I know it sounds a bit risky, but it's really important that we get him out of Troit's hands. It's not something that we can do easily ourselves. That's why we're here. To ask for your help."

Jerrick's gaze settled on Jett's, and Jett nearly flinched. There were unspoken words that lay between them. In Jett's mind, they took on an almost accusatory tone. You said you'd help. You promised. Don't you want to help us? Or was it all a lie?

Now Jett understood why Jerrick had come.

Was this what it felt like to stand on a cliff's edge? Actually, no. He'd done that. He'd even leapt off the cliff's edge, but that was besides the point. This was worse, somehow. There was hope at the bottom of the cliff, a glimpse of a way out. But this - there was no such escape. He felt trapped, like he was in a room with four concrete walls and no door.

No matter what they requested of him, Jett didn't have much of a choice but to accept. After all, wasn't that why he was here? If he said no, then he'd instantly be exactly the same as Troit in these people's eyes. That much was clear. If he said no, then he'd forever lose the fragile trust he'd built with Jerrick and these people.

There was a bitter taste in his mouth when he said, "Okay. I'll do it."

Mystery Man grinned. He clapped his hands together once. "That's great! I'll get everything together, and meet you here just after sunset tonight. All right, I'll see you later." He turned, hurrying back to the truck.

"Tonight?" Jett repeated blankly. So soon? But he wasn't even prepared!

"Thank you," Jerrick said. Surprisingly, he reached out and gave Jett's arm an awkward pat. Then he followed in Mystery Man's wake.

That left an oddly silent Callie standing nearby. She had a solemn expression, one that made her round face look years older than it was. A battered little knapsack was clutched by two hands, knocking lightly against her knees.

"Come on girl, there's no time to waste!" Mystery Man shouted cheerily from the truck.

Callie glanced back, before coming forward. She held out the knapsack with both hands, her eyes boldly finding his. "I wanted to eat it with you, but Da said I had to hurry back. Here."

"Um... eat?" Jett eyed the ragged bag. It looked to be made of strangled threads and greasy mis-matched patches of material. It definitely did not look edible, which made him wonder what she was smoking.

"Yeah.. There's some canned stuff inside, some dried apricots, and some fresh bread. I figured you might like to have something different for a change. Oh, and Tarrod even helped me find some milk." She shoved the bag at his chest, causing him to instinctively catch it. Just from its weight, he could tell there was quite a few things inside.

His eyes widened in surprise. "Ah -"

"Make sure you eat it all, 'kay?" She stepped back, giving him a cute little smile and wave. Then she ran off, but not without shouting over her shoulder, "I'll bring you more later!"

Like an idiot, Jett stood where he was and watched as the truck left. There was a strange mix of emotions weighing heavily in his chest, and he wasn't sure what to make of it.

The bag sat in his arms, its soiled and ugly appearance already forgotten. Absently, he hugged it against his chest, taking a moment to press his face against it and close his eyes. That bright smile floated in his mind, genuine and contagious.

Warmth.

It was something he hadn't felt in a long while.

The shock over sudden turn of events lasted all of two minutes. Maybe a minute and half. In any case, it didn't take long before his curiosity got the better of him.

He sat on the ground right there, and carefully opened the bag. It was exactly as she had said - nearly a half dozen cans of preserved food, as well as two loaves of fresh bread wrapped in linen. There was a small pouch of slightly sticky, sweet smelling dried fruit. But the crowning glory was a quart jar filled with milk, cool to the touch.

Eyes widening, Jett stared at the jar. Milk. He couldn't even remember when he'd had it last. Gingerly, he unscrewed the lid and took a sip. He nearly moaned at the taste, before taking another drink. Good heavens, it was the best thing he'd ever had!

And she said Tarrod found this? A smile came unbidden to his face. Maybe he doesn't hate me that much after all...

Savouring it, he set it aside, promising to give it the attention it fully deserved later. At this point, he had completely forgotten about the dangerous mission looming a few hours away. Instead, he grinned like a loon and turned to the bread. It was time for a little snack.

I hope she comes back soon. This is awesome!

~*RW*~

The three of them reconvened in the middle of a street. It was one of the main streets, wide and open with the nearest buildings nothing but broken shells rising from rubble. A few yards away, a large crater had dug up the earth . Scorch marks scarred nearby surfaces in ugly dark streaks, gifts left by the terrifying energy blasts from a war machine.

Such sights were ignored by the three flyers, however. They were not here to sightsee. No, they had spent the past few days gathering information from whatever sources they could find, and now they shared what they had found.

"So," Raith said, "there was a white flyer here about a week ago. Nearly everyone we talked to mentioned him."

The Mountain flyer, Yvan, nodded in agreement. "Aye, that's about the gist of it. There was a couple of nice folks that saw the white flyer leave the city from the east with a bunch of people."

"Yes, I heard that as well." Syk's gaze panned over the nearby buildings, appearing to not pay much attention to his companions.

Yvan scratched at his stubbly chin. "It's a bit weird, though."

"What is?" Raith asked.

"A bunch of things, actually. This place is a wreck, so it's only natural that survivors would either leave or move into areas that haven't been destroyed. Yet, most of the people I've found have been wandering around this area." To illustrate, Yvan gestured at their surroundings, indicating the damaged buildings.

"Is that so strange?" Raith sighed. "They are most likely scavenging."

"Even if they were, that still doesn't explain how easy it was to get information out of them. I mean, a few ran away when I approached, but some stayed back and answered whatever question I asked. I didn't even have to pry it out of them. Don't tell me that's not weird."

"It is peculiar," Syk murmured. A corner of his mouth tilted upwards. "Perhaps these wretched beings realized that it is in their best interest to help us."

Yvan gave the Medic flyer a flat stare. He got the sense that Syk was just making light of his concerns, but it was hard to tell for sure. After a few seconds though, he let it go. He had no desire to get pulled into one of Syk's little games.

"All right. It seems we all gathered much of the same. Apart from what the survivors have told us, there isn't much to be found for physical evidence." Raith pinched the bridge of his nose lightly, and sighed. Hearsay was unreliable, and it would be so much better if he could back it up with some kind of evidence. Still, what they had gathered would be enough.

"Hm," Syk made a sound, his eyes narrowing sharply. He stared at a dark, broken window in a small store across the street. It was only for a second, then he smiled slightly and shifted his attention back to the other flyers. "It does not matter. We have what we need."

Yvan perked up. "Then we can leave this place, right? As much fun as it was asking a bunch of frightened rabbits questions, I'm much rather get down to catching the white magic rabbit."

In response, Raith tapped the throat of his beige suit. As his helmet slid into place over his head, he turned and looked towards the east. "Then we will head for Mianka."