Back to the present... 

A lone figure stood in the midst of the bustling town nestled in the mountains. His gray eyes scanned the crowds as he sauntered along, hands folded behind his back. His dull black boots crunched in the ever-rising snow as he wove through the masses. 

The man perked up when he spotted two men who towered over all the other townsfolk. The taller of the pair carried a guitar case on his back and seemed to match Buzzard's description of Brant Nayan. From behind, however, it was hard to know for sure, and so the man turned to follow the two and catch a glimpse of his face when opportunity arose. 

The two men entered a mechanical parts store and shut the door behind themselves. After running a hand through his hair and straightening his overcoat, he pushed through the entryway as well. 

As he stepped into the shop, the taller of the pair glanced back, and indeed, his face exactly matched Brant Nayan's. The gray-eyed man nodded slightly at Brant and promptly headed over to a bucket of nuts and bolts. He pretended to sift through the container's contents while keeping an eye and ear trained on Brant and his companion. 

Brant's companion, a pleasant man with dirty blond hair, leaned on the counter and grinned at the clerk. "Hey, do you guys sell fuel here? Premium naphtha-kerosene, if you've got it." 

The clerk nodded. "Which airline do you work for?" 

"None, actually." he replied with a chuckle, "It's actually for two vessels I built. Had to let them down last night just on the edge of town." 

"I see." the clerk said as he nodded again. "Well, let's head to the back and get that fuel for you." 

While the trio retreated to the storage room behind the counter, the gray-eyed man turned and stepped back outside. He made his way to a secluded spot, an empty parking lot behind a windowless warehouse. After one last glance around, he slipped a metal ball from his pocket and tossed it skyward. Midair, the ball opened up, and came down on his head to form a helmet resembling a charcoal skull. 

With the Thrasher helmet on his head, he shrugged his coat off. Then he ripped his button-up shirt off, revealing the torso of a rubbery armor suit, dull black in hue. Finally, he slipped a knife from his boot, slashed his jeans off, and stepped out of them. With his civilian clothes removed, the Thrasher rocketed into the sky above. 

With a bird's-eye view of the whole town, the Thrasher glanced over its outskirts. Just behind a knobby knoll waited a pair of ships. The first was much larger and pearly in color, with a star-shaped projection of tinted glass on the top, causing the whole vessel to appear like a sand dollar from above. The second ship, in addition to its smaller size, had a narrower body, completed by two wide, rounded wings of purple color. Overall, its shape resembled a butterfly. 

Seeing no other strange vessels warranting the use of jet fuel anywhere near the town, the Thrasher sped over to the pair of ships and dropped right between them. He paced between the two vessels a few times, inspecting their undersides as he did so. Finally, he grabbed his knife again. Pressing a red button on the bottom of the handle, a orange plasma oozed over the blade. Steam rose from the edge, along with a dull burning smell. 

The Thrasher stepped under the Sand Dollar and looked up at the network of conduits sprawled across its underside. He raised the heated blade to the pipe-like structure and applied steady pressure. The weapon punctured a hole in the metal casing, and then he felt a softer membrane give way. A few drops of fuel dripped from the hole into the mercenary's gloved hand. 

He waited until no more of the black liquid dripped out. Then he moved to another spot, made another hole on a different branch of the pipe, and continued the process until nine breaches had been made. He checked the snow underneath the breaks to make sure no more telltale drips had appeared, and once satisfied, he repeated the process on the Butterfly's daintier fuel-lines. 

With his task finally completed, the Thrasher pressed the red button again, and the plasma retreated back into the handle. He sheathed the knife and tapped his finger to the earpiece on the side of his helmet. 

"Buzzard here." a familiar voice hissed in his ear. 

"It's done." the Thrasher said, "I found them in some town in the Divy Parvat. Sabotaged their fuel lines, so they're not going nowhere anytime soon." 

"Good work!" Buzzard shouted on the other end of the line, "It gives me pleasure to hear it. Now, make sure they stay there." 

"Yep." 

"Whatever you have to do to keep them there until my arrival, do it." 

The Thrasher nodded. "Yep. I understood the first time. Sending coordinates now. Over and out." 

******************** 

Baird stood as a silent witness while Princess Chariya appealed to an able-bodied octet of townsmen, standing on a wooden box to elevate her petite stature. Her delivery proved passionate and her gesticulations lively as she gave them a compelling speech, entreating them to join her cause. The men leaned forward as they listened, as if they wished not to miss a single word. 

Baird jumped when a sharp beep rang out from his pocket. He slipped his communicator out and stepped away from the crowd. "Hey, Aaron, what's up?" 

"Just checking in." Aaron replied on the other end, "We got the fuel and are about ready to head back. How're things over there?" 

"Pretty good." Baird said as he glanced back at the Kemarian princess, "Still in the thick of it, I suppose." 

"So you're gonna be staying out a bit longer, huh?" 

"More than likely, yes. I'll keep you posted." 

"Alright, don't freeze out there." 

Baird chuckled. "I'll try my best. Bye-bye." 

With a sigh, he pocketed the communicator. After watching another of his breaths climb skyward in a misty plume, he slipped his phone from his coat pocket. Seeing that he had missed several calls from Abigail, he tapped the screen and moved the device to his ear. 

The phone only rung for a few seconds before Abigail picked up and greeted him. 

"Hey, Abby, I see you called." Baird said as he kicked snow off his boots, "What's up?" 

"Just wanted to check in on you. You've been ignoring me all morning." 

Baird frowned. "I have? Sorry about that. Anyway, how're you feeling?" 

"Eh, pretty good. Have a bit of a headache right now, and didn't quite succeed at keeping dinner down last night either, but other than that, I'm okay." After a pause, she continued, "But how're you? Last you told me, this Dove character got his artifact from you guys and you couldn't find any survivors in that wreckage. What's up now?" 

"Oh, well, we're headed to Kemaria now. We had to make a stop on the border to get fuel, and that's where I'm at now." 

"Ah, I see." Abigail coughed. "Well, I just got pretty worried when you didn't call back, but now I'm relieved." 

Baird smirked. "Yeah, well, service is...dodgy around here." 

"You've been talking to Wendy, haven't you?" 

"A bit, yes." he replied with a laugh. "But listen, you take good care of yourself, Abby. You're not the only one who depends on it now." 

"I know. You take care of yourself too. Whatever happens out there, keep me posted, and by all means, don't die." 

"Of course I won't." Baird promised, "That wasn't part of the agreement." 

Abigail giggled. "You remembered. Alright, well, I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing. Love you." 

"Likewise, darling. Bye." 

Baird ended the call and stared fondly at the picture of Abigail serving as his phone's background picture. With a sigh, he put the device to sleep, slipped it back in his pocket, and rejoined the group surrounding Chariya, which had grown in numbers since his departure. 

******************** 

Two drums of fuel thudded to the ground and dispersed snow upon landing. Brant and Aaron rolled their shoulders and stretched their necks in sync. Then they met eyes and exchanged a nod. 

"Alright, I'll stay out here to give 'er a drink." Aaron said, pointing at the Butterfly, "And I'll let you into the Sand Dollar so you can deliver the goods." 

Brant smiled. "Good idea." 

The two tramped across the gap between the ships and soon found themselves under the Sand Dollar's central hatch. 

Aaron unpocketed his remote. "Grab Sila while you're in there, will ya?" 

Brant nodded. "Yeah, sure." 

With the click of a button, the hatch swished open, and Aaron grinned at the sight of the lanky black robot staring down at them. 

"Buddy!" he exclaimed, "I'll need your help out here in a sec." 

"Typical." 

Brant shared a chuckle with Aaron at the robot's word. Then he threw the guitar case up to Sila. It caught the case and set it down while Brant ascended the rope. Then the robot leapt outside. 

Brant closed the hatch and stooped down. After unlatching the guitar case, he removed the instrument inside. Grasping the guitar by its neck, he strolled down the hallway. He rounded a corner and found himself crossing paths with Keira. 

Keira put a hand to her mouth as she eyed the guitar. "That's...wow, that's—" 

"Pretty, I know." Brant finished with a smile. "Where's Hannah?" 

"She's in her quarters, I think." 

"Alright, thanks, Keira." 

"Yeah, no problem." she said, offering him a grin. "She's gonna smother you in gratitude." 

Brant nodded. "I'll bet." 

With that, he continued down the corridor until he reached Hannah's door. He drew in a deep breath and released it before finally knocking. Her cheery voice immediately invited him in, so he slid the door aside and stepped in. 

Hannah didn't look up at first, busy as she was with slipping shotgun shells into the slots of her ammo belt. But when Brant stood silently at the entrance for several seconds, she looked up. Her eyelids widened as she studied the dark-wooded guitar in Brant's hand. Her lips spread into a wide grin as her hand leapt to her chest and a high-pitched squeal shot from her mouth. 

"You've gotta be kiddin'!" she exclaimed, "Dat's for me?" 

Brant shuffled his feet and returned the smile. "It is. I just thought...you know." 

Hannah leapt to her feet and stepped across the room with a bouncy gait. "Ya didn't have to—" 

"Please." Brant interrupted, halting her words with his hand. "You deserve this." 

The girl tossed her brown hair over her shoulder with a jerk of her head. Then she obeyed his cue to take the guitar from him. Holding the instrument in her own hands, she studied it in greater detail, her grin ever widening. 

Finally, Hannah's coffee-brown eyes met Brant's cobalt blue eyes. "Well, thank you so much. I...dis really means a lot." 

Brant nodded pleasantly. Then, when she threw herself into his arms, he inhaled sharply. He returned the embrace and closed his eyes. 

"You're welcome." he finally replied when she let go. "Now, let's hear it." 

She giggled. "Of course!" 

Hannah sat down on her cot and gave the guitar a quick tuning. Then she narrowed her eyes in thought for a second. Finally, her fingers leapt into place on the fingerboard, and she strummed her first chord. Her face managed to brighten even more at the instrument's sound, with light beauty ringing from the higher strings, and the lower ones grounding the chord with rich, full tones. 

Her fingers danced across the fretboard as she strummed through a sophisticated chord progression. Soon, Hannah's eyes closed. Her shoulders swayed in time with the music she was creating, and soon enough, she was so engrossed that she hardly noticed Brant sit down on the cot beside her. Finally, she took a deep breath and hummed a soft, tuneful melody that floated atop the chords and caused Brant to close his eyes too. 

When Hannah reached the tune's end, her eyelids slowly crept open, and she smiled at Brant once more. "Thanks again. I love it." 

Brant nodded and rose to his full height. "Mission accomplished, then." he remarked pleasantly as he patted her shoulder. "Enjoy." 

"I think I'll do just dat!" she exclaimed. 

Brant stepped up to the door, cast one last glance at the musical brunette, and exited the room. He strolled down the hallway with a satisfied grin on his face, quietly humming a catchy segment of Hannah's tune as he went.

******************** 

A/N: Well, a lot of what this chapter was is delivering on what was spawned in the last, I suppose. Brant delivered his goods, and the Thrasher did what he was hired to do! And for good measure, Baird got a phone call with Abby! If you liked this chapter, I suppose you could do worse than to vote and comment. 😆 

Well, any thoughts on the chapter in general? 

[insert pointless whistling here] 

And I guess that makes it time for our random question! 😂  What's your least favorite color? 

(I guess that's a hard question, because obviously the basic colors are fine. But I think some of the brown-er yellows are kinda gross? Like in certain contexts, the mustard-ish tones can start to look really disgusting. 😂) 

That's it for me this morning! Hope you have an awesome next few days, and I'll see you on the next update! Until then...adios!