Laytn kept his head on a swivel, scanning the monochromatic terrain before him with broad sweeps of his gaze. The rolling hills of sandy earth disappeared into a blurred horizon of wavy heat. To the direct front of the three Zeon officers, the rough road that the convoy had been following stretched outward to the west. Its darker smudge likewise vanishing amidst the haze of the desert, and the lift of the dunes. 

“I’ve got nothing so far,” Laytn replied to Milo’s inquiry. “It’s hard to see clearly though with the sun in our faces like it is. You got anything, Commander?”

Squinting, Laytn brought a hand to shield his helmeted eyes from the glare of the descending sun, still yet high in the sky. He knew that they couldn’t be far from Federation lines now, but as of yet Laytn could see no sign of their enemy. That thought made his jaw clench. [i]We’re trying to find them to surrender[/i], the very voicing of it within his mind made him cringe. [i]Never in all my days did I think it would come to this.[/i]

A part of his proud, spacenoid psyche, wanted to rebel against the Prime Minister’s call for capitulation. The notion of going out in an honorable blaze of glory inside of Old Crow, taking as many Feddies with him as he could manage, tingled pleasantly within his imagination. Yet, at the same instance, the absolute fool hearted reality of such a stand came into his mind as well. Laytn was a patriot, and a lover of his homeland, but he was no zealot. There was a difference in dying for one’s country, and committing self-righteous suicide. 

Laytn was brought back to the moment as his eyes were drawn to the blaze of a green flare rising from beyond a distant dune. It arced through the sky, still very bright, even in the face of the full sun. 

“Contact!” Laytn called. “I’ve got a green flare off to the northwest of my position. Probably three or four klicks out. It’s gotta be the Feddies. Can you guys make out any vehicles?”