As Malta approached briskly, it was not long before they were in the upper atmosphere. Concurrently, alarms and warnings for atmospheric entry blared. The autopilot presented evasive maneuvers, yet she utilized none. Fiorella turned in her seat toward Damien, greeted him with a light smile, and, through her non-verbal communication, nodded to one of her officers, who silenced all protests and suggestions from the control systems with a few button presses. They also turned all weapons rearward, hoping to protect their more sensitive barrels from the atmospheric entry. Once again, the bridge was tranquil, punctuated only by the groaning strains of the ship's hull.
As Amalfi entered the atmosphere, a fiery hell enveloped its front hull with plasma lashing about. Fiorella pulled the joystick towards her slightly, lifting the ship's nose and broadening its aerodynamic profile. The groaning of the strained hull intensified, and the vessel began to vibrate gently. The sound of cracking pervaded as individual joints reached the limits of their tolerances. Damien could swear the Outcast ship was flexing around its center of lift.
After several long minutes, Fiorella managed to slow Amalfi enough that their holographic displays ceased being overwhelmed by the fiery inferno, revealing the endlessly flat golden-orange plains of the planet's surface, occasionally interrupted by introduced and cultivated forest vegetation or small hills and mountain ranges. Fiorella smirked in her seat and executed a barrel roll with her ship, gracefully plummeting at supersonic speed toward the surface.
At the edge of the troposphere, Fiorella reignited Amalfi's engines at two-thirds thrust and switched them to reverse. The ship loudly protested and slightly stretched towards its rear as it equalized the stresses on its structure. At five kilometers above the ground, their target was visible - a small, cozily appearing town with low, white-plastered buildings contrasting with the generally golden surface of the planet, a smaller starport, and a large paved area likely serving as a landing pad for their capital ship.
Fiorella pulled the Amalfi’s nose closer to her, and the ship began to decelerate sharply and slightly gain altitude. Air vapors condensed under them as the vessel’s flat belly was an improvised lifting surface. She again turned off the engine thrust and allowed her yacht to fall to the ground gently. As soon as the Amalfi got close enough to the ground, its antigravitational units engaged at full power, allowing the ship to touch down lightly on the runway. The pressure and temperature instantly threw dust and soil into the air, enveloping the slowing ship in a heated sandy cloud.
Only after everything was over did Fiorella guide her ship at a gliding pace toward the massive, semi-buried anchoring site. The Amalfi slotted into the pre-prepared anchoring points and allowed itself to be lifted by cushioned flaps above the ground. The Outcast lady with piercing, emerald green eyes then initiated a several-hour shutdown sequence.
"[A bit more cumbersome than your hoverbike, yet a potential collision with the planet's surface could be equally impressive, would not you agree?]"
With these words, Fiorella rose from her seat. The holographic displays around them began to dim.
"[My ship is powering down for anticipated maintenance. I would recommend you to wear something lighter, Damien. It is a pleasant twenty-seven degrees outside.]"
