A blanket of clouds rolled out far below, largely obscuring the view of the cities of the United Federation and South Island. The haze layer, which formed a sort of second horizon at that altitude, was only scantly glowing in the light of the cratered moon and the starry sky. In the midst of it all, the fleet of airships, a fraction of the former Egg Fleet, scattered itself at various altitudes. Many of the ships colorfully imitated fish in some shape or form; to have been a man who so enjoyed encasing wildlife in robots, Eggman seemed to quite enjoy his own particular perfections on animal forms (or corruptions thereof, in the eye of a more sane beholder). For instance, what would have been a charming, swordfish-shaped airship was in fact a cannon-loaded mess, its long, pointed bill bristling with guns.

Fortunately, the vehicle they were after was not quite so bristly in that regard. A so-called "Orca Class" vessel, the ship was indeed huge, black and white, and sleek—maybe even sleeker than the real deal, with very swept-back wings (fins?) and other aerodynamic features. Another deviation from the design for which the ship was named was the flat upper deck that ran all around its dorsal "fin" structure, the open rear deck perched atop the horizontal tail fin, and the closed, armored bridge area, set lower and to the front, along where eyes should have been. It almost made the thing look more like a killer whale wearing some sort of techno-mono-goggle.

It was equipped with guns and cannons, but not an immense number; they mostly dotted its surface in defensive-looking emplacements, with the heaviest turrets located at the rear, as if to ward off pursuers. Truly, though, it would rely on its escorts for any real protection in combat. That said, there were indeed escorts in flight, not only in the form of other airships close by, but also Balkiries, the red-painted bird-jet robots normally associated with Eggman, but now bearing Chimera logos.

It was already a speckled, busy-looking sky abuzz with the many lights of the airships and the glowing exhaust of the flying patrols, but it was about to become busier. A few very small, quiet infiltrators, an encroaching flight of gliders, contributed their own glow and noise as they approached the scene. The hang gliders, darkly colored and equipped with some form of small, disposable-looking rocket-boosters crackled their way across the sky.

Soon enough, there was the crackling of static as a voice began to address all of them. There was a attitude of serious business behind it, though one almost couldn't help but get the funny feeling that the speaker was a little too excited to really keep up the urgency in his voice. ... Or even focus at all.

"Alright, agents - we're nearing our final destination. Go ahead and hit the -- wait, which was... o-oh, the blue -- yes -- blue switch nearest to you, and cut the thrusters! Shut 'em down - it's time to prep for the initial boarding minus the telltale heat signature, so we're glidin' in from here. For those who aren't used to this mode of transportation, never -- no, always stay relaxed. Don't tense! Keep your eyes on the ball-- uh, the ship. Just... stay on target, and don't veer off too far to the left or right, or... or any other direction. If you miss, there's... not a lot of fuel left in these things, and we won't be able to get you back up here, so you'll end up gliding for... uh. For a very long, undesirable amount of time until you land back on solid ground, water, or a volcano or something, so... don't miss! Please."

Assuming that all present had received his message, the panda would kill the rockets on his own glider, and simply continue the descent towards the airship.

"Oh, one more thing - Don't forget how to actually land, like we've discussed before! Otherwise, entry may get a bit messyyy... cough. Fenn, out." Kcssht.

...

Kcssht. "Thank you for choosing Mad Gear Flights. Tip your flight attendants, watch your step, and have a nice daaaay..." Ksscht.

...

"Wait, like we discussed what before?" came the belated reply from the hog flying somewhere off Fenn's starboard wing. Unlike everyone else, who had two little rocket engines on their glider, his had three. Was it any wonder why?

"I don't think we discussed that. Can we discuss that?"

The answer was swift. And none too assuring.

"Uh, w-wait, sorry -- hold all of your questions 'till the end of the tour, 'cause Agent Pax is about to activate the signal jammer, and the radio's gonna get quiet for a bit! Hang on tight, friends -- See you on the other side. ... wait, that sounded a bit--...


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Ivan was flying somewhere off on the port side of Fenn's aircraft. When he made meantion of some colored button, he looked around for it. The monochrome bunny looked down, once again clenching his jaw. They were really high up, weren't they?

"Aye... Don't miss. Good advice," He said, sounding maybe a little unnerved, "The hell happened to ships bein' in the water?"

Being a seafaring robber, it was only natural that flying several hundreds of miles above the ground would be scary.

"No, seriously, did I miss a memo? On the landing? The landing thing?" Casey shouted aloud instead of over the radio.

Casey, wearing a rather undignified bright-blue open-faced crash helmet with ill-fitting goggles, looked most unhappily toward the group's new technician. He hrmbled and brmbled all grumbly to himself, and nonetheless did as told, and hit the blue switch, cutting his engines. He soon nosed down to compensate for the sudden loss of thrust, and began the steady descent toward the airship.

"Maybe I was in the bathroom for that part? Aw, daggone it, now I gotta go to the bathroom..."

Finally, with the word to go, Ivan hit the switch, releasing his rockets, and soared unassisted, with nothing but the rushing wind keeping him afloat. Now with radio communication out of the question, he kept any one-liners he had to himself.

Ivan was a very visual learner, and a dinky little pamphlet with bullet points and pictures for instructions wasn't quite enough. He gulped as he dove toward their target and lifted the nose to level out over the deck. There was a small miscalculation, however. His landing, not as smooth as it should be. In fact, it may not have been classified as a landing at all. More of a crash landing.

As he glided over the deck around the fin of the vessel, he was too high, so he dove to compensate, leveling out again perhaps too late. He quite literally tripped over himself as his feet hit the ground. The hang glider skidded across the deck without him as he tumbled and rolled before stopping flat on his back. For better or worse, he was mostly unscathed, and was now on the airship.

Fenn had meant for them to turn their engines off on the final approach."Alright, agents - we're nearing our final destination. Go ahead and hit the -- wait, which was... o-oh, the blue -- yes -- blue switch nearest to you, and cut the thrusters! Shut 'em down - it's time to prep for the initial boarding minus the telltale heat signature, so we're glidin' in from here." As a result of Pax and Tyra's confusion, their bright glow, loud noise, and vivid infrared signature immediately drew attention, resulting in four of the bright red Balkiry robots swooping directly at them during their approach. Their landing actually probably wouldn't go as smoothly as intended, and they'd have trouble chasing them as soon as they were on the deck, including about three dull, orange Egg Pawns plodding up with what looked like missile launchers hanging off their backs, and energy pistols in hand.

Those who listened to Fenn probably made it on board fairly smoothly, though, since none of the robots that noticed their teammates could radio to sound an alert.

The tail fin deck didn't have a ton of cover to provide, though there were some openings where there seemed to be open launch bays for vehicles and robots. What laid within was another question entirely, though. If they wanted to advance toward the bridge, they could either take their chances inside and escape the robots hassling them, or just continue with speed through the open, up the airship's backside toward its dorsal fin. Given the constant whoosh of wind and darkness of night, it wouldn't necessarily be a bad route, assuming they could dispense with the pursuers they already gained. (And not fall off the ship at any point in the process.)

Casey was not set any more at ease by all the advice given him. It just seemed to frustrate him a bit more, frankly. He was further confused by the situation when some of the other party members suddenly went rocketing off to crash into the deck ahead of him.

Things already weren't going well. Things never went well.

The big guy braced himself as he approached. In all his tension and distraction, he lost track of just how much speed he was dropping, and proceeded to nose down yet more, throwing himself into an unintentional dive just shy of the back of the airship. With teeth (among other things) clenched, and a quiet "Hnnnngnghghgh" escaping his tight-pulled lips, he pulled back as hard as he could—easier said than done with only one working arm—and just barely crested the rear of the airship in a near-vertical climb.

... Before stalling and doing the hang-glider equivalent of a belly flop onto the metal deck.

*WHANK.*

"... I'm okay!"