Locating the helmet’s power switch wasn’t an issue, but attempting to sift through the assorted ranges of ambient radio channels that milled about in the air made quite the daunting endeavor. The helmet was a more recent and relatively dissimilar variant of the older GEAR pilot helmets that were in service during Kitsune Peril’s prime, with Arcade’s habit of forgetting the smaller and finer details of life—like fragments of his GEAR pilot’s technical training— not doing him any favors. Within due course, the king cheetah connected himself to whichever transmission signal that was blaring greetings at him. He didn’t bother to look, but determined that speaking first made for a superior option. 

“Ah! A voice!” Arcade exclaimed. His helmet rested in his hands, with the microphone pointed towards his face and mouth. “Kensington—or Ken is it? I saw you in the briefing room when the boss was revving everyone up for the up-and-coming mission.”