The little farmhouse smoldered, sending grayish whiffs of acrid smoke up into the eerily still atmosphere. Not much remained standing of the little house at this point; two of its walls were crumbling beneath the massive damage done to them, and the remainder of the building looked like it had been the center of brutal war.

Which, to be honest, it had.

Troit soldiers swarmed over the remains like ants, snapping photos and combing through the place for every detail they could find. One flyer stood off to the side - far enough to be out of the way, but close enough so that he could oversee everything that went on. He wore the blues of a River flyer, though his colours appeared faded almost to the point of being gray. It matched the gloomy expression on his face.

Further out of the way, Raith sat on the ground, his back leaning against the huge wheel of a large military truck. He clutched his left shoulder with a grimace, while his left arm hung limply in his lap. Traces of blood still remained at the corner of his mouth, standing out garishly against his sweaty, pale face.

He watched the soldiers rummaging around like it was a crime scene. If the situation had been any different, he would have scoffed. They weren't going to find anything that would help clarify the situation. There were no clues, no tidbits of information to find that would explain why the impossible had happened.

Their trap worked perfectly. The prey took the bait willingly. Everything had gone perfectly... for all of ten seconds.

He closed his eyes, suppressing a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. The stasis field was supposed to be their secret weapon, their ace-in-the-hole against Ra'Skevvor. Their techs had been working on it for months, and although what they'd given him was only a prototype, he'd had high expectations.

He remembered how they'd waited, hidden, for what seemed like hours. Their trap lay dormant, though it was charged and ready to go. Even though the electrical impulses were currently minute enough to remain unseen, there still had been a faint hum, noticeable if one knew what to listen for.

Then the Kairg leader had dropped from the sky like a meteor, landing right in the center of their little trap. He had come alone, with no army of cannon fodder to throw at them. When and if they showed up for their master, it would have been far too late, for the stasis field had already burst into life.

Even now, Raith could still recall how the faint flashes of electric blue light danced over the ground, flickering briefly over Ra'Skevvor's formidable form. They would have played havoc with his body, numbing nerves, contracting muscles, deadening reflexes - in short, it would have stopped any ordinary man in his tracks as if he'd been hit by lightening. Ra'Skevvor however - they hoped it would just slow him down to a speed they could handle.

They had been right. It did slow him down.

Raith remembered seeing the Kairg flyer stiffen in place, briefly held immobile by the field. And when he moved towards them, it clearly had been a struggle, each step driven by sheer force of will. The man's persistence and determination was clearly formidable, one that Raith found himself grudgingly admiring. A trait that he's  passed down to his sons.

At that moment, seeing Ra'Skevvor struggle, Raith had allowed himself to hope. Perhaps this was it - perhaps the Kairg would fall this day. He wasn't the only one to have felt that way.

Yvan had laughed in triumph, the easy-going Mountain flyer eagerly launching forward to tangle with Ra'Skevvor. Since the three of them had taken measures to protect themselves from the effects of the stasis field, Yvan obviously felt himself to have the upper hand.

A mistake, Raith thought. They had grown too confident in themselves. When they formed the plan, they expected to be able to face him on even ground. But at that moment, they got caught up in the moment, losing some of their caution.

It had happened in moments.

Yvan paid dearly.

Both Syk and himself were brushed aside while Ra'Skevvor charged into the little house. It was fortunate for them that they were not the most pressing thing on his mind. He was not here for them. He was here for his son.

Oh, they tried to stop him. He was hampered enough by the stasis field. They got in some good hits, as did he. But in the end, both of their targets went free.

Raith scoffed, a hint of self-derision in the sound. There was a tremor there as well, but he pretended it didn't exist. "He's a monster."

"We underestimated him," murmured a quiet voice beside him.

He turned his head with a grimace to see Syk, who leaned against the truck in uncharacteristic weariness. The entire right side of the medic's face had swollen into a marvelous dark purple mass. His nose had morphed into an interesting, misshapen mass. By now, it had been set back into place - an act that Syk had done himself without so much as a blink.

Syk sounded congested, and it was no wonder. The medic held a cold pack against his face to help with the swelling, but Raith wasn't sure if it was even helping. It looked awful. It had to have felt even worse than it looked, but Syk appeared as calm and unperturbed as usual.

"The stasis field worked," Raith slumped, feeling the weight of exhaustion and guilt and disappointment bear down on him. "But it wasn't strong enough. Ra'Skevvor still got away. We failed."

"Hm," Syk didn't appear to be all that distressed by their failure. "I wouldn't consider this endeavor a complete loss. The boy did have quite a lot to say, didn't he? We know now why Ra'Skevvor is so focused on him." He chuckled, a sound of cold amusement.

"As for the stasis field - it was effective, to a degree. We wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't. Hm, as it is, I imagine it would be quite the success on the boy. Now, if our technicians could calibrate it further -"

"Yvan is dead," Raith cut in, his voice flat. For the first time, he felt truly annoyed at Syk's cool analysis. Forget the damage, forget those who sacrificed themselves - the medic was only interested in the facts, the results, and the corrections required to remedy all shortcomings. The losses incurred didn't matter.

  Syk was here just for the ride. And it clearly showed, with how casual he acting. It was like this was all an interesting experiment rather than a chance to bring this entire ugly war to an end.  

No, this entire thing rode on his own shoulders.  Both of them were sitting here badly beaten. A good man was dead. Ra'Skevvor had escaped, along with the only bargaining chip they could have used against him. 

  Raith grit his teeth, struggling not to spit ugly words at the medic's face.  

Silence fell as the medic paused. Shifting slightly, he tilted his puffy, bruised face towards Raith and regarded him for a long moment. Something unreadable flickered within the cool depths of his pale eyes.

Then he said carefully, "Yes."

And he said nothing more.

They remained silent, watching the Troit soldiers finish up with the house. Neither of the two flyers looked at the black body bag laying nearby.

Failure came with a heavy price.

It wasn't until the soldiers had began packing up that the River flyer came over. He held out a thick tablet. "They took readings on the chemical residues found on the interior walls. It's nothing like I've ever seen. Take a look."

Raith eyed the tablet. Then he sighed, and took it with his good hand. He was aware of Syk leaning in as well. After scrolling through the notes, he shook his head and handed it back. "I don't recognize any of it."

"Perhaps Lante would," Syk suggested. "He enjoys playing with volatile substances."

"That he does," The River flyer rolled his eyes. Then he rubbed at his scruffy chin and have his head a rueful shake. "You guys do realize it's a miracle you're still alive, right? When I got the call, I could hardly believe it. Why were you -"

"Classified," Syk smoothly interrupted. "Now, if your unit is done..?"

"Uh, yes, sir. They've finished. The place is clean."

"Good. Then there is nothing more for us here. We'll return to Mianka with you, since neither of us are in any condition to fly." Syk glanced at the body bag, his face a perfect mask of neutrality. He stepped away from the side of the truck and offered Raith a hand.

The gesture took Raith by surprise. He knew the medic well enough to know that Syk did not offer friendly aid without a reason behind it.

Raith eyed the hand for a moment, wondering what sort of benefit the medic would gain from helping him. Was it a peace offering for his attitude earlier? Was he trying to foster trust? Gratitude? A false sense of friendship? He frowned, but took the hand anyway. Whatever the reason, he was too exhausted and sore to care about it.

Once Syk pulled him up, the two of them went inside the truck. They claimed a section of the seats along the wall near the door, and settled in while the soldiers carried the body bag in. After it was secured to the floor with a series of straps, everyone else found seats that somehow placed them a careful distance away from the two injured flyers.

The corner of Syk's lips curled upwards at this, no doubt amused at their obvious distrust and discomfort at their presence.

Once the truck was well under way, and the rumbling of its movement was enough to drown out much of the surrounding sound, the medic leaned in close. "How long," he murmured into Raith's ear, "will your dogs take to track down the boy?"

His dogs? Raith's lips tightened. I thought I had been discreet. How did he know? There was no point in hiding it now, however. If Syk knew about his 'dogs', then it was probably safe to assume that Troit did as well. The thought did not sit well with him. "If he is alone, then they'll find him within a day."

"You sound quite confident."

"They're not bumbling flyers," Raith retorted without thinking. "They're trained to hunt, and they're as good at tracking as I am. Maybe even better."

At that, Syk leaned back into his seat, a slow smile lending an eerie glint to his pale eyes. He said nothing further, but Raith could sense the medic's satisfaction. It sent a chill down his spine.

Frowning, Raith spent the rest of the ride in an uneasy silence, trying to figure out what little game Syk was playing now.

~*RW*~

It rose high above the ground, a solid mass of metal supported by four deceptively thin legs. It looked almost like a bug, with its fat armored shell and spindly legs, scuttling over the land with surprising speed.

Only this bug shook the ground with every step, its steel-tipped legs driving nearly a foot into the ground as it went. It squealed each time it lifted a leg out of the ground, inner hydraulics humming then shrieking with strain as the leg stretched outwards. Metal groaned when the bug's massive weight shifted on three other legs. Then the outstretched leg suddenly stabbed down with shocking violence, piercing into the ground.

Thud!

And it continued forwards, its passage marked by an awful cacophony of groaning screams, as if every step caused it horrible pain. There was no hiding this bug, and it as it drew closer to its destination, it wouldn't be long before its presence was noticed.

Thud!

Nestled deep within the carapace sat the brain of this monstrous bug. He was battered and bloody, but his eyes burned with a murderous rage. Around him sat four of his men, though they sat very still, very silent, as if they didn't dare to breathe. They carefully controlled the movement of the giant bug, monitoring its functions attentively while pushing it to the limits of its speed.

Thud!

Their Leader had commanded, and they could only obey. After all, they had seen his anger, his displeasure, his hatred. They knew what it meant, knew that the only way to survive it was to stand well behind him. Anything that obstructed his way would get completely pulverized.

Thud!

Though they would never speak of it, the four men pitied the people of Troit. They pitied the residents of the city they were approaching, for they would not be spared of the fallout. And more than that, more than anyone else, they pitied the boy. For what child deserved to have such a parent as this?

Thud!