Author's note: A lot has happened in the world since the last time I posted. I just wanted to say I hope that everyone is doing okay.

Chapter 7: Desert Fox

March 14, 1938

March of Events in Austria

00.45 a.m. (Berlin) Official communique gives text of Dr. Seyss-Inquart's request for German troops.

1.45 a.m. (Munich) Reichswehr crossed frontier at 10 p.m.

1.53 a.m. (London) Great Britain protests strongly to Germany.

"...and then Chamberlain said, quote, 'nothing could have arrested this action by Germany unless we and others with us had been prepared to use force to prevent it.'" Tails and Amy were both thoroughly confused about the conversation transpiring over them. The captain had them escorted from the ship's hold into his quarters and had not said a word since Tails, Amy, or the apparent radio communications operator had arrived. The two guest's leg cuffs had been removed, but their hands were still shackled. Both were seated in front of the captain and his worn oak desk. As both Tails and Amy were smaller than human children, their legs swayed freely beneath the seat of their wooden chairs. With Amy still missing her boots, her socks had gone from their normal cotton white to a dirty brownish gray from the dust and dirt she had been kicking up. "Clement Attlee talked about the strength of the League of Nations and 'standing firm' against these violations of the law. Archibald Sinclair spoke on—"

"Will there be war?"

"Not today, Captain Gould."

Captain Muirhead-Gould took a moment to stare at the sailor before placing his elbows on his oak desk and placing his head into his cupped hands. Through the gaps between his fingers the captain's eyes could be seen focused blankly at the sailor. Without removing his face from his hands, Captain Gould spoke through his fingers. "Fools, the whole lot of them." He dug his fingers into his forehead exacerbating his wrinkles, groaned, and then violently slammed his fist into his desk. "Don't they get it! Hitler's a liar's liar, and we're sitting around making sure our white flags are ironed so when the Nazi's scale Dover we can wrap ourselves and jump!" While neither Tails nor Amy had known the captain for more than two days, his impassioned outburst was still unexpected. "Ensuring the protection of Germans in Austria. And when will he be protecting the Germans in Czechoslovakia? Poland? We're giving them a free pass to take half of damn Europe!" He paused for a moment to breathe and calm down. The tremor of the captain's fist through the table left a burgundy stained glass rattling along; it heard the captain stop talking and it stopped rattling. "Though, I would be a liar myself if I pretended to be surprised over this course of action. A million over Serbia, why a million more over Austria?" Captain Gould turned to look at his prisoners for the first time. "If you've come here for information, let it be this. Nazis are the scum of the planet. They hoist themselves as the salt of the Earth, but they are beneath maggots stowed away in a coffin. I'd sooner trust a starved shark over an authoritarian brownshirt."

Issues of international politics were largely irrelevant even in the G.U.N. lacking world Tails and Amy lived in. Borders existed for tax reasons, not to be sights of terror and incident. Flexible to the people residing within the borders, defined only by what residents wished it to be as opposed to what autocrats hundreds of miles away willed it to be. What especially confused the two was this idea of so-called "Germans", some ethnic subset of humans. To the fox and the hedgehog, having branches of the same species was far-fetched. While the need to differentiate species could be rationalized for biological reasons, having groups of a species be somehow different from other groups of the same species simply did not make sense. Were Germans not human? Was invasion necessary to ensure Germans could be "reunited" with their German brethren? And how could you even differentiate the different groups of humans? Were the Nazis to measure the skull dimensions of the millions of people it wished to incorporate? Neither spoke up to ask the captain for explanation.

"You are dismissed," Captain Gould said, turning back towards the sailor. "Inform the crew war is on the horizon but will not be undertaken at the moment, and they can take their leave for town."

"Yes captain, right away." He exited.

With the room again just the captain, Tails, and Amy, a silence broke out. It was clear that Captain Gould was deliberating, still not sure what to say to his alien captures after two days of thought. Instead, the captain's tired eyes flicked back and forth from Tails to Amy and back again. His dull lips, pronounced bags under his eyes, hairs poking out of his ears and nose, everything about the man signaled to Tails and Amy that the middle-aged captain had not gotten much sleep as of late, if any. His pretty uniform and its ironed tie and shiny royal crown with anchor decorated brass buttons were a façade. They would have felt sorrier for the man and the situation he had been thrust into if they were not handcuffed and were allowed to shower.

Becoming increasingly bored and agitated, Amy groaned before being the first to speak. "Look, I get that you're upset about having two things fall out of the sky and land on your boat, but can you take these cuffs off? I think I'm starting to lose circulation and I don't think you're prepared to amputate."

"Wrong, we could hack off and cauterize a limb in under a minute. And impossible, the chains stay."

"Can't you just throw us in a cell?"

"The prison block is for prisoners, you are cargo. And we can have more armed men stationed in the hold."

"You often have other cargo in your room for light discussion? Play checkers with the bowls and talk sports with ropes?"

"I can't have space creatures running amok on my ship! Frankly I shouldn't have creatures on here at all! I will not imperil my crew so some space girl can have comfortable wrists."

"Can I see a map of the world?" Tails interjected before Amy could rebuttal. Amy, upon hearing this, slumped down into her chair and let her head rest upon the top with a soft thud. Bewildered, the captain turned to look at Tails as if Tails had spoken gibberish to him. "I'm interested in seeing how the geography of this world compares to our own planet, I believe that our worlds are somehow linked but all I have to work with is the ocean Amy and I were in for a bit." Both blinked. "Oh, and I'm Tails, by the way."

For the first time, the captain let out a healthy chuckle and crooked a grin. "Because you sport two tails?"

"Yes because of my tails."

The man laughed to himself for a moment while Tails waited for the maps he had asked for. "Can't fathom why you don't call her Temper, in that case." Amy brought the chain between her handcuffs to her neck and feigned a gag. "Despite my best judgement, I shall oblige your request, Tails." He continued to chuckle while peering down into and rummaging through his cluttered desk drawers for a world map.

With the captain momentarily distracted, Tails and Amy quietly turned to one another.

"What now?" Amy, still slumped, mouthed.

"Don't know, thinking." Tails mouthed, tapping his temple.

Rather than continuing to lip speak/read, Amy instead made a bashing movement with her closed fist towards the captain as if slamming down a meat tenderizer.

Thinking for a second, Tails shook his head from side to side "Not yet."

"Earth, third rock from the sun," the captain rose up from his desk onto his feet with a rolled piece of paper, "a couple billion years old, and maybe ten left to go. A thousand if the chancellor gets his way." He unraveled the paper across his desk and placed random knick-knacks on the corners of the sheet to prevent it from scrunching up. It was, indeed, a map. A Rand McNally Popular Map of The World map. A shabby, coffee-blotched, dog-eared, 'GCMG' initialed in faded ink, pencil marked with new borders map. It, by association of being stored in the captain's desk, reeked of tobacco. Tails hurried off his chair to the desk. His eyes barely reached over the surface of the desk, so Tails dragged his seat over to the desk and stood on top of it. After unslumping herself, Amy made her way to the desk for map viewing as well. She was tall enough to view without chair assistance. "Don't bother asking where you are because I've already done—"

"Look, Tails," Amy pointed directly at and tapped on Egypt, "Alexandria." Neither looked up to see the captain staring down Amy. "So that wasn't an ocean we landed in, but a sea, apparently. The,medi-terrain-ean sea. I mean, it's connected to the ocean, so I don't see the difference."

"Well Amy a sea is usually a smaller subset of an ocean, particularly with land around the body of water. Making the differentiation helps with—"

"I was being rhetorical, Tails."

"Oh, sorry."

The two continued silently scanning the map, both noting the previously mentioned Germany in central Europe as well as the previously mentioned Austria, with the latter struck through with a large 'X'. Captain Gould, who knew both the political and geographic map of the world quite well, did not join in map viewing. He did, however, study Tails and Amy in a similar manner that Tails and Amy studied the map. They themselves were not in much better shape than the decade old map. While neither had coffee blotches or ownership marks, they were beat-up. Tails' white chest fur was knotting up, Amy's quills were becoming unruly, both of their eyes were bloodshot from fatigue, and neither smelled acceptable. Not that the captain or any of his sailors smelled good, but the two were particularly rank. Despite the comments he had made, Captain Gould did feel a tinge of remorse for the two, Amy especially. Her dress had been drenched in the Mediterranean and then air dried until it was as wrinkled as the captain. And in the unair-conditioned belly of the ship, the clearly visible sweat stains across her red dress forming was an inevitability. The captain understood that she had a lot of reasons to be upset and temperamental. Whether it be being held prisoner, being shackled, not being allowed to bathe, being fed a diet of stale bread with a marmalade spread, being on a foreign planet, there was much to be upset about. That or puberty, the captain figured.

Still scanning the map, Amy spoke up, "It's like if someone tried to draw the world from memory but they hadn't seen it for years."

"The shape of the continents seems warped, but the location of the land masses themselves are mostly accurate."

There was a pause. "Well, what'd'you think?" Amy quickly slurred while turning towards Tails. "Our planets linked or…?"

Out his peripherals Tails saw Amy turn to him and ask her question, but he did not turn to meet her gaze. He kept focus on the map. "The fact we can breathe this air, and how the gravity here is identical from what I'm feeling, I'm pretty confident this is some version of our planet. Now when and where? Not totally sure. I'm not as brushed up on my tectonic plate movement as I wish I was but based on how the continents on our planet are currently moving," he twisted his head upwards to think towards the metal ceiling. "We must be, like," Amy continued to watch her friend, and the captain stopped his own line of thought to pay attention. "At least thirty million years in the future." He twisted his head downwards to resume looking towards the worn map. "Which means we're rather in some parallel dimension displaced by a large, well tiny in the grand scheme of the universe, amount of time, or we time-traveled exclusively on our planet."

"Guess we missed Silver, huh?"

"Just by a bit." Tails smiled and chuckled.

For the captain, it was like he was being set-up in an elaborate prank designed to make him go crazy. Aliens, right in front of him, discussing parallel dimensional time travel about his planet. And they did not seem phased in the slightest, just another Tuesday by the looks and sounds of things. Guess we missed silver? There was plenty of silver on his planet. They were moving their handcuffed hands across his map, pointing at California making comments about Central City or something, discussing the parallels in geography between his and their planet. Apparently, the size of Antarctica was evidence of continued global cooling; the captain assumed the fox understood the distortion of the Mercator projection. Holoska? It was pronounced Alaska.

"I think," Captain Gould said placing his hand over his chest, "I need to sit down." And he did.

Tails continued to pore over the map from on top of his chair, but Amy looked up to watch the captain grip at his uniform and sink into his seat. His hand tightened into a claw as he dug into his cotton jacket. His forehead began to collect sweat. With each sharp breath, he slowly inched his hand lower down his chest until he reached his brass buttons. One by one, the captain fumbled his buttons through their buttonholes until his pressed white dress shirt was exposed and jacket freed. He moved his hand back over his chest and gripped. His face had slowly shifted from its natural sandy complexion to a uniform light embarrassed red. The now collected sweat on his forehead began to drip down.

"Captain?"

"Please be quiet, miss." Captain Gould was looking towards Amy but looking through her. Under his breath, he spoke in a low and hushed manner, "I just need a moment."

"You're not, are you having a heart attack?" Amy said with genuine worry. Having heard this, Tails stopped his map viewing and looked up to see a totally new man. "Just, just sit still for a moment and I'll go get someone, Tails start—"

"I'm not having!" The captain spat out lurching forward before slowly leaning back into his chair, "a heart attack. I said I just," without looking, he used his free hand to begin rummaging through a drawer in his desk, "need a moment." He pulled out his pre-packed tobacco pipe and drew it to his lips. His hand returned to the desk drawer presumably searching for his matches.

"You numbskull!" Amy bursted out, "You're going to kill yourself! What are you doing!" The captain's arm emerged from his drawer with a match being held. "I," He clenched his hand into a loose fist and let the match slide down until only the head was visible. "Cannot," With his thumb, he jabbed his nail into the match head. "Believe," With a forcible flick of his thumb to his left, the match lit. "What you are doing!" Before Amy could continue protesting, the captain brought the flame to the pipe's bowl and ignited the dried leaves. Akin to a free diver, he took a deep breath to inhale as much smoke as possible into his mouth before releasing in a continuous stream of gray clouds. Tails coughed, Amy did not.

Once he took a few more puffs, this time being more conscious to aim his exhalations away from Tails and Amy, the captain spoke again, "I'm fine." Amy did not call him out on this. Slowly rising to his feet, the captain shoved his pipe into his breast pocket before finally letting go of his chest. "Now, I believe you two have had enough time to peruse my map." He slid the objects off the corners of the map, and instantly the paper snapped back into a tube. Tails and Amy could only watch as the captain slid the rolled map back into one of the desk drawers. As he began to button his jacket back up, the captain focused back in on the fox and hedgehog, "We are disembarking. Move the chairs back in place and exit."

This came as a surprise to the "guests" who had assumed they were to be harshly questioned for many hours. But learning that they were to go outside onto the port, Amy had a request. "Wait, Captain." The captain stopped his walk towards the wall mounted coat rack, which was no more than a couple stainless steel hooks screwed into the wall, to grab his cap. He looked at her but did not say anything. "Can I please get a pair of those boots your sailors have been wearing?" Still, the captain did not speak. "I just figure, you know, don't wanna track in any dirt from outside." He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Captain Gould grabbed his anchor and crown cap, pushed it down on his head until snug, and instructed Tails and Amy to exit with a finger point towards the door.

Alexandria proper was miles away from the naval port. A naval port which was largely still under construction. The heavy cruiser that Tails and Amy had found themselves on, the HMS Devonshire, had gotten tugged into and moored to one of the few full-sized docks that had been constructed at the port. Tails could not help but wince and cringe at the sight of various skilled laborers shuffling around in the midday sun with neither a hard hat nor high-vis vest in sight. Cranes carried I-beams freely over the heads of the crowds of sailors and constructors yet neither the crowd nor the operators seemed concerned. Knowing the effects of a two-hundred-pound steel beam plummeting 60 feet onto a quarter inch of skull bone, Tails was quite concerned. Amy was more concerned with getting used to walking around in her new—new to her at least—standard issue royal navy black boots. The leather had no give, and the rubber soles mocked at the idea of foot comfort. But the shoes did fit, and it sure was better than walking around an active construction site in socks.

They were, as expected, completely flanked by men with guns. The captain was at the front talking about some geopolitical going-on with a similarly dressed man, Tails and Amy shadowed from a step behind, and everywhere else was a man with a rifle. Three directly behind, two to the side, and two at the corners. And that is not to mention the crowd of people trailing behind or running in front to get a glimpse of the three-foot-tall aliens in their pink and yellow glory. The two were told they would be killed if they tried to run away.

"And they cheered?" Inquired Captain Gould.

"From the streets to the windows. Like the second coming, I'm told." The other well-dressed man paused to chuckle to himself, Captain Gould did not seem as amused. "They threw petals out their flats and waved their swastika flags like a maid with her duster. Must'a had them packed away under their beds in anticipation." He paused again to see if Captain Gould had any comment or reaction, which he did not. "I tell you Gerry, these Austrians must be defeatist by nature. I imagine they ran to greet the Nazis with jubilance and whimsy, maybe presenting themselves like French whores. Don't know what I expected from a German rump state. My hopes of a modicum of resistance have been dashed and ripped asunder, my day was ruined, and mood shot."

"You hardly sound distraught."

"I remembered I don't care about the Austrians."

Captain Gould did not say anything again. He just brought his hand to his face to rub his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

"Oh, don't act like you give a damn about some phony krauts Gerry. You and I both know if the brothers fought, Hitler and his goose-steppers would pummel them into submission. Better they just crumple and perish than shooting whatever peashooters they had lying around."

"And that is exactly what I worry about Arthur," he still had not removed his hand from his face, "the Germans now have a taste for victory, why would they stop now?"

"Surely out of the pleasantries and honesty in their black hearts."

Finally, Captain Gould threw his hand down from his face towards the ground. "God damn it! Last time they threw us straight into the meat grinder, now we get to watch the Germans waltz around mocking us! You know, I was in Berlin, and—"

"Yeah you let Raeder smear shite in your one hand while you shook Churchill's knob with the other. I know you're eager to send yourself and your men to die in someone else's nonexistent war, but most of us would rather wait for Hitler to die of old age."

"Then you're a fool." Gould said firmly.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not."

Their argument had quickly captured the attention of both Tails and Amy. While Tails still cared about the lack of safety measures, having two middle-aged captains shouting expletives at each other was a surefire way to have Tails forget about building code. Interestingly, the other captain had not said a word to or made a passing mention about the two aliens. Worldly matters seemingly meant more to him than otherworldly matters did. The man himself bore a striking resemblance to Gerard Muirhead-Gould. His face was more toned and chin more cleft, but with the identical uniforms they might as well have been cousins.

"In any case," the other captain continued, "Chamberlain has already decided to not do anything, so unless you plan on piloting the Devonshire across the alps there is nothing that can be done. I'm sorry Captain Gould, but you're no Hannibal."

"That much has been made clear, yes." Gould took a moment to take a breath in and exhale. Off in the distance some workers were yelling about pulling a cable taut. "So that's it? The French haven't said anything?"

"Not anything that I've been made privy to. To be frank, the French and their politics have been elusive to me as of late. I believe they just made some socialist their prime minister." He scratched at his chin. "And the Italians have yet to defend the Austrian independence they apparently champion."

"Hardly a surprise."

"Agreed, Gerry." The other captain finally turned his head away from Captain Gould to look down upon and lock eyes with Tails. "Now did you have any other pressing questions for me?" He did not look away nor did he blink. "Or can I begin my line of inquiry?"

Reaching into his breast pocket to pull out his pipe, Gould replied "Go ahead, Captain Bisset." He had forgotten his tobacco in his office, so Gould just began gently chewing down on the stem of his pipe.

There was only a pace or two between Captain Bisset and Tails and Amy. He kept his head stable while he swiveled the rest of his body to face the creatures. Narrowing his eyes towards the two, he breathed in before calmly asking "These are the two talking furry creatures I presume, Captain Gould?"

Amy opened her mouth to speak, but Gould was able to cut her off in time to say, "That would be correct Arthur. They were floating in the water when we spotted them, but the yellow one rose out of the water and onto the deck with the pink one in tow. We have kept them in the hold ever since."

Turning back to look at Gould with shock, Bisset muttered, "Rose out of the water, you say?"

"That would be correct." Gould replied, continuing to gnaw on his pipe.

"Hmph, isn't that something. Well, in any case," Bisset turned back towards Tails and Amy. "Captain Arthur William La Touche Bisset, captain of HMS Shropshire, servant to God and king." He took a single step forward and stuck his hand down towards Tails.

The fox, briefly stunned, took a moment before he remembered about pleasantries. "Uh, Tails, well Miles Prower, mechanic, engineer, and pilot." Tails, still cuffed, took Bisset's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Despite Bisset being over twice the height of Tails, their hands were practically the same size. They released and Bisset turned towards the girl.

"And you must be?" He said with a slight grin, again sticking his hand down towards Amy.

"Amy Rose, unemployed." Unlike Tails, she took his hand and gave it a firm shake. Her hand was larger than his.

"Let me be the first to properly welcome you to this planet, Earth!" When he finished his sentence, Bisset began to slowly spin in place while swinging his arms around to broadly gesture at his surroundings. Once he made one full rotation, he stopped to look back at the two with a smile on his face. "Hopefully our discussion on fascists invading a sovereign state did not make you think unkindly of this world." If he was being genuine or sarcastic, neither of the two could discern.

Tails smirked at this remark. "I guess there are crazies on every planet."

"Is it so, Tails? You have mad-men running the countries of your planet as well?"

"I wouldn't say running the countries, just being a nuisance to everyone on the planet."

"I understand quite well, Tails." Still with a smile on his face, he continued, "Tell me, does your planet have a name you can share with us?"

Tails looked over towards Amy, and she looked right back at him.

"Your planet does have a name, does it not? Mars perhaps, maybe even Titan?"

Amy attempted to answer his question by saying, "Well, not exactly." Bisset turned to look down upon her, and Amy watched as his smile quickly faded into a frown.

"What do you mean, 'not exactly?' How can your planet not have a name?"

"It's just 'the planet,' Captain." After a second of him not responding, Amy tried to explain, "Our moon is just 'the Moon,' and our sun is 'the Sun.'" She was careful to avoid admitting her knowledge of the name 'Earth,' as it was the human name for their planet. And the last thing the two needed was to be questioned about the prior humans on their planet. "Is that unusual, sir?"

He scoffed at her question and turned his head to look at Captain Gould. "You hear that, Gerry? Is it unusual to give a planet a name?"

Still chewing at his pipe, Gould nonchalantly answered, "Maybe it is, a sample size of two is hardly conclusive."

"I'll tell you what's unusual, miss," Bisset said while turning back towards and pointing his index finger right at Amy. "Having two things walking around talking English and still having air in their lungs." She stood steadfast and unflinching, bored even. "And if you landed on my ship…." He stopped himself and turned back towards his fellow captain.

"And what, Captain? What if we landed on your boat?"

Through clenched teeth, Tails quietly forced out an, "Amy…"

But Captain Bisset did not turn back towards Amy. He did not give her another thought. He did, however, reach into his jacket's breast pocket and pull out that day's issue of The Palestine Post. "This is where I got my information, Captain Gould. You can read it at your leisure."

The item quickly passed from one captain to the other without a word of thanks.

"I'm returning to the Shropshire, we will continue our conversation later." Gould nodded in response with his pipe still in his mouth. "And Captain, don't forget."

"I won't, Captain Bisset."

Without another word, Bisset walked off in the direction of his ship.

Once Amy was sure the captain was out of earshot, she questioned Gould, asking, "What's his problem, one minute he's all friendly, and as soon as he doesn't hear what he wants to hear he flips out!"

Gould held out the newspaper he just received off to his side, one of his subordinates took it from him. "I do not know Miss Rose. Perhaps he is a bit shocked by the whole alien ordeal." He moved his pipe to the other side of his mouth using his teeth. "But that is just an old sailor's opinion."

"It was almost like he was trying to play both the good and bad cop," Tails chimed in. "I guess he wasn't ready to do both parts."

Letting out a half-hearted chuckle, Amy quipped, "I don't think he was ready to do either part."

The group began walking again, this time towards one of the completed concrete docks. Not addressing either of them specifically, Gould asked, "Captain Bisset did raise a good point, how do you two know English?"

"Is that the language we're speaking?" Tails responded, to which Gould gave a head nod while still walking forward. "Captain, I honestly have zero idea."

Giving a single healthy belly laugh, Gould said "Of course not. It's just a cosmic coincidence."

"This is the language we've spoken on our planet for thousands of years; everyone speaks it." Amy added.

"But why can you two understand us? We have different languages on this planet you know."

Amy was silent, Tails just scratched his head, unable to answer.

"I'm sure you recognize how suspicious that is, correct?"

Tails tried to come up with some sort of explanation by offering, "Maybe the development of language is highly dependent on environment rather than chance. And if our planets are near identical, perhaps the language ends up being the same."

"But we have other languages on our planet: English, German, Rumanian, Hindi." Gould retorted as the group started walking on the concrete dock. "How can your planet just speak English?"

"It's kinda weird to me you guys don't speak all the same language here," Amy said. "Wouldn't it make everything easier?"

"Certainly, Miss Rose. But language is the basis of culture, you can't just go about changing the language people speak without destroying their way of life. Nothing will make a group despise you more than suppressing their mother tongue."

"And that's Hitler's justification for what he's doing?" Tails said, causing the captain to momentarily stop. "You said something like he's 'protecting the Germans' in someplace. He's trying to protect their way of life?"

"It's much more complicated than that, Miles—"

"Tails is fine, sorry."

"It's much more complicated than that, Tails." The captain resumed walking down the concrete dock. "That's Hitler's justification yes, its, what was it?"

"Großdeutsche, sir." Answered one of the sailors walking with them in broken German.

"Yes, that. Greater Germany, All Germans for Germany. If you can speak German, you and your land belong to Germany." Captain Gould firmly asserted. "Language is the basis of culture yes, but it isn't all it is. The Americans speak the same language as us, but I'm no yank. Germany and Austria speak the same language, and Hitler believes that is equivalent to the them being the same people. And that's reason enough for him to want to unite their peoples, by force or otherwise. Their way of life is not at threat, Hitler just needed some sort of excuse, a casus belli if you will, to take over Austria and its industry. Fake some reports, send in an army and voilà, a whole country is yours."

"Then why did the other captain say those people were happy when the Germans invaded?" Tails asked.

At the end of the dock, which the group had reach, was a horizontal three-bar metal railing. The captain leaned forward against it, resting his elbows on top of it and stared out across the open Mediterranean water. "I do not know, Tails."

Amy, also curious, asked "You don't think he was lying, do you?"

"Who, Captain Bisset? Under his exaggerations and ambivalence, the truth is always found, unfortunately."

A wave spilled over the dock slightly before quickly drying out under the Egyptian sun. A seagull circled overhead; it was not making any noises. The captain finally took his pipe out of his mouth and stored it back into its pocket.

"But to answer your question, Captain Gould, I don't know why we can understand each other. I'll need to think about it for a while and get back to you on it." Tails said after the brief moment of silence. "Not sure you'll like the answer, though."

Turning his head away from the sea to look back at Tails, Gould responded, "Hmm? Oh, yes. Please figure that out, I am curious."

Gould slid his left sleeve down to reveal a simple wristwatch, which he quickly read before sliding his sleeve back up. "We still shave some time. Who did I give that paper to?"

"Me Captain," a voice said from within the group of sailors. "Would you like me to read it?"

"No, I just wanted someone else to hold it. Give it here." The man pushed through the crowd to hand off the newspaper before slinking back into the group. "Thank you, sailor. Let's see what is says." Captain Gould leaned back against the railing, dramatically unfolded the newspaper, fanned it out multiple times to help uncrease the pages, and began to read out loud. "The headline is: The March of Events in Austria, which should help clear us up on the matters."

He quickly skimmed through the introductory material that both he and his sailors already was aware of, much to the disappointment of Tails and Amy who were largely still in the dark about the matters at hand. "Okay, here. On Saturday, at twelve forty-five A.M., it reads 'Official communique gives text of Dr. Seyss-Inquart's request for German troops.'" He pulled the paper down from his face momentarily to look at Tails and Amy. "That's the chancellor of Austria, kids. It continues, 'Reichswehr crossed frontier at 10 p.m.' and at one fifty-three A.M., 'Great Britain protests strongly to Germany.' Etcetera, etcetera. The next day, 'Hitler addresses enthusiastic crowd.'" His face was obscured by the paper, but Tails and Amy guessed he was frowning. "It's like I've been punched in the gut thrice today."

"Maybe you should try reading something less depressing, that's what I do." Offered Amy.

"Unfortunately, Miss Rose, it seems this world only marches from one depressive period to the next."

"Well that's sad."

"'Tis."

Gould took off his cap and wiped off the beads of sweat which had formed on his forehead with his sleeve. After, he began flipping through the short six-page paper seemingly looking for something less depressing. "Would you like to hear about the boy who died in a lift? A summary of the weekend's crime? The settlement of Assyrians?"

"Maybe you just shouldn't read anything."

"How about this, Miss Rose, headline, 'World's Largest Diamond Found in Luxembourg?'" Gould asked, pulling the paper down to reveal his face.

Both Tails' and Amy's faces lit up. Their eyes widened, lips curled into a sly smile, and ears perked up. They tried to temper their reactions to not make it obvious how much they needed to hear what the article had to say. Amy bit her inner cheeks, Tails dug his nails into his palms, but their smiles persisted, and Gould noticed.

"What, are you two here to steal Earth's gemstones?

Tails, face already flush, defended himself and his friend by saying "I'm fascinated by diamonds, their carbon bonds are incredible and a prime example of beauty in nature. Plus, their application in tools giving them incredibly strong tips, really great all around. And Amy—"

"Just love jewels, you know how us girls are!" A nervous laughter escaped out her mouth. "Can't hear enough about them!"

Captain Gould raised an eyebrow at the two fumbling around in front of him. "You and my wife both, Miss Rose." He brought the newspaper back to his face to continue. "Yesterday, outside of Luxembourg City authorities discovered a brilliant yellow diamond described as the largest ever found. Larger than an adult male's fist, it was dismissed as a fake until lapidarists confirmed its authenticity. Initial estimates place the diamond, under the provisional name of the Strassen Diamond, at just over eleven thousand carats shattering previous record of thirty-one hundred by diamond Sergio."

Tails took conscious control of his left tail and gently swayed it into Amy. She understood what he meant.

"Having no identifiable claimants, Grand Duchess Charlotte has seized the diamond as property of the state. It is set to be displayed to draw up interest in potential buyers for the expansion of state coffers. The limited Luxembourg Army has been placed on high alert and has allegedly been called upon to act as security for display event. Tentative display is set to begin Wednesday, however no auction date has been announced yet from the Luxembourg government." Gould closed and folded the newspaper over. "See, there still some good news in the world." He handed off the paper to another random sailor, saying he no longer needed it.

"Whoa, eleven thousand carats, that's quite something, ain't it?" Amy Said.

"And yellow, rare for a diamond of any size!" Added Tails.

"Yes, well," Gould muttered while peeling his sleeve off his arm sweat to read his watch again. "Out of my budget for certain."

A curious sailor spoke up, asking, "What are we waiting for, Captain?"

"If you lot pipe down, we might be able to hear what I am waiting for." Which they did. Not that it made much of a difference, the general bustle of the port still filled the air, and the pounding of the waves against the dock and any nearby boats prevented any real silence.

But the two aliens among them, with their large, young ears picked up on what was heading their way. Tails, recognizing exactly what is was, spoke up. "That's an airplane, isn't it?"

"Good ears Tails, you would be correct."

Tails, if just for a moment, forgot all about his handcuffs and excitedly scanned the skies behind the group looking for a plane. Under a fluffy cumulus cloud a dull silver object cut through the sky. Each moment the faint whistle of the engine grew in decibels until even those sailors who worked tirelessly on the noisy ship mechanisms could clearly hear the plane approaching. Soon, the Royal Air Force's insignia, the blue and red roundel, could be seen painted across the plane's fuselage. There was only the Sun, sky, clouds, and a single plane sailing across it all.

"Is that the Gladiator, Captain?" Asked a researched Sailor.

Leaning his head back to enjoy the demonstration in the sky, Gould answered "A very sharp group here, yes that would be."

Dipping down, the biplane roared over the heads of the group and continued over the Mediterranean Sea.

As if he was reading off an announcement to an elementary school class, Gould said "The Gloster Gladiator aeroplane is being tested here to better understand the effects of sand and saltwater on it and its engine for potential revisions and special models. And as the current senior most officer, it is my duty to make sure things go smoothly."

And things were going smoothly for the plane and its pilot. Cruising about fifteen hundred feet above the sea water, the Gladiator performed various aerial stress tests to the enjoyment of both the small group on the dock and the larger naval base. It rolled along its longitudinal axis, flashing its belly towards the sun, and dove down towards the water. Just hundreds of feet above the sea, it pulled up to complete its half loop.

"It's beautiful, Captain Gould." Tails managed to get out through his smile.

The captain took off his cap to shield his eyes from the sun while he continued to watch. "I'm more of a boat man, but she's pretty enough."

"I have a biplane at home, so maybe it's my bias."

"She's the last of her kind, end of the biplanes." Gould flatly stated, neither bothered nor ecstatic about the death of a line of planes.

"What, why?" Tails said after taking Gould's comment on a personal level. "But biplanes are so cool, they have this retro appeal to them, and on the practical sense they are great planes!"

Under her breath, Amy could not help but say "Oh brother."

"Their wings give them so much more maneuverability, sure they're not as fast as other planes, but that doesn't matter if you're doing circles around the enemy." He took a breath. "And all that wing space gives plenty of room for gadgets and gizmos. You can strap thrusters on it if you really need speed, that's much more difficult on a regular monoplane. And you can stand on top of the wings without upsetting the balance of the plane or obscuring the pilot's vision, and you add repairability into the mix…."

Gould, having heard enough of Tails' praise, just said "They are simply not practical in modern warfare."

"What?" Tails said, almost in shock.

"Why spend thousands of pounds perfecting dogfighting planes, training pilots, risking manpower to just scrape past breaking even after a battle? Why take that risk when instead your country can build up such a dominate force of aeroplanes that your enemy does not dare attack. And if they do, bomb their air bases into oblivion from above the clouds."

"Wouldn't that just lead to the enemy relocating their industry and air strips underground? And in that case, you'll need maneuverable scout biplanes to sniff out where they are hiding."

"Any large-scale attempts to conceal their buildings can be defeated with proper movement tracking and insiders."

Tails chuckled at Gould's comment. "I see that as an intelligence failure of the enemy rather than a successful infiltration operation."

"A success is a success, regardless of the actions of the enemy. Failures by them become learning opportunities to exploit their failures. Successes by us demonstrates what works. Downplaying the success of an operation only lowers the moral of the group."

At this point, Amy decided to tune the two out. She could handle Tails gushing about outdated planes, but a back and forth between an eight-year-old fox and a middle-aged sailor about the military role of the biplane and operational success was too much for her. Besides, the only thing that mattered at this point to her was how to procure that plane flying overhead. The Gladiator did another turn upside down, and that's when, to her dismay, Amy noticed it was only a single seater. She sighed out loud, though the people around her assumed it was over the argument between Tails and the captain.

A couple of minutes passed, and the plane made one final loop around the harbor before turning back inland. The two were still arguing, and completely missed the plane exit the port completely. Amy kept a close eye on the plane and watched it begin to descend a few miles away from the dock before it disappeared behind one of the port's buildings.

.- .-.. .-.. / - ... . ... . / -. .- - . ... / .- .-. . / .-. . .- .-.. -..- / - ..-. / -.-. - ..- .-. ... .

Eggman, or as everyone around him was calling him, Ivo, was sitting in a cushioned chair tapping his dull boots on a dark red carpet. His translator sat in a chair adjacent; he was scratching something down in a clipboard. The two had an appointment inside Hofburg Palace and were waiting to be called into one of its many offices. Eggman flipped through the various sheets of notebook paper he had thrown together the night prior, double checking all his math and schematics. He was not a bit nervous. His translator, however, was visibly sweating and nervously jotting away on his clipboard.

Eggman's digital watch buzzed; it was 3:00 P.M. Just then, the large dark oak door separating the waiting room from the office swung open. The translator jumped to his feet, Eggman remained relaxed in his chair. A lady, probably in her late thirties, held the door open. She looked at the translator and spoke something in German. Eggman only picked up on one word.

The translator looked down at Eggman and spoke with his German accent in English, "Ivo, the Führer is ready for us."