It was like flying in a big soup can.

The shuttle was spacious but uncomfortable. Its floors and walls were cold, dull, grey metal, barren and plain, save for the sections near the side hatches that were caution-striped yellow and black. The beams of the vessel's frame ran up the sides and across the ceiling like some sort of mechanized ribcage. And windows? None of those. The vessel didn't even have seats, much less any other creature comfort, as it was intended only to transport robots and prisoners. You see, Eggman never needed more than one seat on any given ship: his.

The lack of any view to the outside world made it difficult to tell where they were and where they were going. There had been some rumbling, shaking, ominous noises, and discomforting G-forces a while back, presumably from atmospheric reentry, but that was long past. Now there was only the steady whoosh of wind across the airframe. Were the ship more comfortable, it could have easily lulled a passenger to sleep.

Ace, of course, sat nearest to the closest thing the ship had to a corner by the back. Eerily motionless was his stint there, almost blending into the dismal scenery like a porcelain doll in the attic. Every few minutes or so, his head would tilt in some other direction to signal that he was still breathing in that black and urban camo attire he swiped, but beyond that, he didn't have a word to say Until of course...

...

... Was the wind getting louder?

*BZANNK BZANNK BZANNK BZANNK*

"...Whaaat the hell...?"

A piercing alarm went through the cabin. The looser components of the vehicle began to rattle as vibrations coursed through the ship.

"Warning — engine ignition failure — warning — engine ignition failure ..."

The more astute of the passengers would have realized that this was a bad thing. Why? The aircraft they boarded barely had wings to speak of. It was a VTOL aircraft, and primarily relied upon its engines for lift. Their vehicle was suddenly the aeronautical equivalent of a brick with a paper airplane strapped to it.

"Ooh, ssshhit!" he spat. The alleycat stood himself up, suddenly having trouble keeping his own feet on the ground, much less staying in place. With his free hand crawling along the wall, he carried himself with a hurried pace through the cargo hold and up closer to the front with red lights flashing mere feet above his head. A great sinking feeling overcame his chest, almost like he was suddenly...

...in a free fall.

That wasn't good.

searchindextag
chapter5search

The roaring got louder. The ship's computer kept declaring what was wrong as if they were supposed to do something about it — never mind that they didn't even have access to the cockpit, if there even was one on the automated ship.

"... warning — engine ignition failure — warning — engine ignition f— engines online."

Just like that, there was a sudden bucking motion as the engines raged to life, the ship's plummet suddenly slowed, then

*THOOM.*

— they crashed anyway.

The shuttle absolutely smashed into the ground, its frame and fuselage deforming all around them. Sparks spewed from every newly formed orifice, flashing and strobing along with the failing internal lighting while steel screamed against stone, as if the whole ship had been dropped on a giant grindstone. Their environment seemed to tumble and roll around them, casting the loose payload of passengers all over the hard, steely interior of the ship. It was a terrifying, seemingly neverending instant of careening motion, ramming into hard things, and being assailed by an indescribable wall of sound.

Just as soon as it began, though, it stopped. The ship was very nearly torn in half; where there was once a rectangular door, there was now a split, bent opening through which shone harsh daylight, tinted gloomy grey-blue. A piercing cold unlike that any of the passengers had likely ever known howled in, pelting them with snow. In contrast, a fire flickered and burned somewhere toward the front of the ship, ever growing.

The only sound was the whistling wind. It was quiet. But then, people; yelling, snow-crunching footsteps, and heavy breaths heralded the arrival of an unknown group. One man poked his head in through the torn door and glanced around; his identity (and even species) was impossible to divine because of his thick, furred hood and scarf-wrapped nose and mouth. His clothing was a pellmell arrangement of mismatched leather, cloth, fur, and synthetic materials, including a thick, bright-orange nylon-shelled jacket.

"नमस्ते"

As the fire crept closer inside, he reached to pull whoever was nearest free, and into the piercing chill of the outdoors.

The first thing that unfortunate individual would see, aside from blinding snow, was... nothing but endless mountain range, and the lights of a remote, ancient-looking village just ahead.

A messy figure of quills uncurled himself from one of the walls of the wrecked ship like a rag doll having just been promptly tossed, the position he'd gained cramped and uncomfortable. An aching groan resonated from the green hedgehog as he regained his bearings, crawling forward almost pathetically for a few feet before boosting back to his feet, dazed for a moment. It finally took the unexpected, blasting cold to snap him back to attention, shivering out of habit to the biting new temperature.

"Figures he'd give us a piece of $%@& ride..." he mumbled as he strode forward to the gaping opening now available.

Emerging from the wreck, he found a good layer of ankle-deep snow awaiting him, much to his displeasure. Squinted eyes peered through gusting wind as he found only towering peaks greeting him. Lonesome and desolate... two words Geoff would have preferred not to pop into his mind for the scene, but were fitting nonetheless.

It was only then did he finally notice the newcomer before him, the one concealed under the layers of clothing. The hedgehog frowned, not all too familiar with the person's style of attire, his mind already starting to draw close to a conclusion that would more than likely become obvious in the next few moments.

"Where... uh... where are we?" he asked, sounding like he was prepared for the worst as the snow swirled around him.

Meanwhile, another quilled figure began to exit the ill fated ship.

Shadow, barely shaken, it seemed, had one foot propped out of the makeshift doorway, a hand braced on the side of the opening as he stared out into the cold landscape. The always present frown permeated on his lips as he examined the surrounding peaks, challenging their presence with his stare alone.

Despite his obvious displeasure, the hedgehog moved onward, approaching the stranger as well.

The warmly-dressed rescuer removed his outer coat and tossed it around Mako almost immediately. Urgently, he pointed toward the village and started pulling at the shark's arm, speaking words the boy had no chance of understanding. Geoff could expect similar ushering from another of the rescuers.

It seemed like the people who had found them were definitely there to help. One stood out, however: among the group of strangers was a man who looked insufficiently dressed for the cold. A huge fellow (a yak, one might presume) clad simply in a broad-brimmed hat and well-worn militaristic garb, he didn't so much as shiver or even blink as he strode past Shadow to duck inside the burning ship.

The yak took one scan around the chamber then set forward, straight toward Ace.

He produced a tremendous, angled knife. In the hands of any other, it would have been called a sword; for him, it was still a knife. He grasped at the back of the debris upon which Ace was stuck and said something unintelligible to the cat. Then, with one huge, terrifying, air-rending swing, he cleaved the warped and fragmented steel straight off the wall with his blade. In this way, he was able to pick Ace up right along with the thing that was skewering him, as removing it at that point could have been dangerous to his health.

This one, huge man put Ace over his shoulder as if carrying a toddler, then traversed the rest of the ship quickly to collect any others who hadn't picked themselves up. Then, just as speedily as he had entered, he exited back to the frigid outdoors, and trundled off up the hill toward the village like a freight train with his payload of patients.



***



The hours passed in a haze. Few people could say they had been through quite so much as many of the members of this particular group had over the past week alone. There had been little time for rest, and virtually no time to just recover. However, finally, the concussed and frozen passengers of the wrecked shuttle found themselves warming and recuperating, even if it was in a completely foreign environment.

The room was rustic and almost hostel-like, elongated with a single row of numerous beds, their headboards placed against the wall. Firelight from a nearby fireplace colored the stony, white, ornately-painted walls with a warm glow. There was an appearance of dustiness to all the furniture and fixtures, such as the old shelves of pots and figurines, and the closed shutters that rattled against the outside wind, but it was merely the textured deterioration of age; the place was perfectly clean. The old wooden floor looked well-varnished, as did the very simple, low-set beds that the party's members would find themselves on. A cursory glance around would reveal that there was a door at each end of the long room, standing open; one to another similar room, the other to a corridor of some sort.

How long had they been there? Where were they? It would be a wonder if any of them had managed not to conk out as soon as they were given some rest. It was at least clear they had been there quite a few hours, because everyone who was injured had been treated and bandaged, and even Ace's fantastic new body piercing had been carefully removed. It must have been around dinner time, too, judging by the aroma of spicy food wafting in and the lack of light coming through the shutters.

It was all quite peaceful. Well, except for the fact there was a guy just sitting there staring at them.

One of their rescuers, a rather plain-looking primate fellow of some kind, wearing baggy, light-colored trousers, and pleasant-looking red shirt that looked like it actually could have been made of some nice curtains rather than conventional western clothing materials, sat cross-legged on the floor, watching them all in unnerving silence.

The primate blinked and looked more attentive to Ember for a moment, mouth hanging open as if he was about to respond. A sort of faint "ah" sound escaped, then he just nodded and smiled politely.

He really had no idea what she was saying.

The fellow sitting on the floor looked at Desmond strangely, then reacted in about the exact same way that he had previously to Ember: he completely didn't understand, and just smiled and nodded again.

Chun-nan was a big place. Not even Chunese was spoken throughout it. Little did Desmond realize just how utterly remote a mountain village they were stranded in.