Fortinbras’ mechglider burst through the cloud deck, its leading edges still glowing from the heat of atmospheric re-entry and its shock wave leaving behind an ever expanding hole through which faint blue sky could be seen. He was just off Hamlet’s right wing who’s glider was on autopilot since the youth had no experience with military drops, or much experience with anything outside the protective social structure of his Techspire. Fortinbras had made the risky choice to leave his ship safely in orbit lest he be caught violating the planetary blockade he was ordered to staunchly enforce. He was putting his neck on the line, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him after his inadvertent rescue of Hamlet and the subsequent tale he had told. It was either the most fantastical and improbable tale Fortinbras had ever heard, or one of the most sinister.
He scanned the desolate ruin of the Earth below looking for a suitable and secure site to bring Hamlet back home from his short exile.