The sound came from a silver zoid unfamiliar to Seth. The shots were aimed out the hangar's side doors, where a backstop the height of the hangar had been built out of excavated earth. On the backstop were two targeting roundels being shredded by the zoid's cannon fire.

"All stop, range clear," called a voice when the fire had ceased.

"That smell never gets old!" shouted another. Indeed, there was something intoxicating about spent gunpowder. The scent grew stronger as Seth got closer.

"Guns got a good sound to them. Lots of punch," said a third.

"Half-degree deviation on the starboard cannon. But still, look at that grouping!" said the Lieutenant in the cockpit.

Indeed, the shots had struck a hole in each roundel no larger than the diameter of an individual round. That alone was incredible.

"All you need now are some bad guys to shoot at," Seth called. Immediately, all eyes were on him, and seeing the twin strokes indicating his rank, they all stiffened up, standing at attention.

"Captain Riker, sir!" said the one commenting on the guns' musical properties. He was stocky, with no neck and a strong jaw. His black hair was thick, but short. "Lieutenant Testa," he indicated himself, then, "Lieutenant MacNeil," the wiry youth with brown hair in the cockpit, "and Lieutenant Sunden," the dirty-blonde with significant stubble on his face. "We've been assigned as your flight leaders."

"I'd been told I was to meet with Velasco here. Three Lieutenants don't equal a Colonel."

The three Lieutenants glanced nervously at one another before another voice from behind Seth spoke up.

"By my count, you'd need about sixteen Lieutenants to make a Colonel, at the very least." The man Seth presumed to be Colonel Velasco had an almost playful look about him. True, he looked perfectly professional with straight posture and close-cropped gray hair, but there was a hint of a permanent smirk on his face. "Even then, they'd make a shitty Colonel."

It was Seth's turn to salute when he saw the Colonel's rank on his lapel; a shield crossed by two swords. "Colonel Velasco?"

"At ease, Captain," he said. "Let's take a look at your new bird."

Velasco led Seth over to the silver zoid, and now that he was closer he realized it was a flight type. Its features were sleek, far more so than the Pteras units he was used to, but it looked bulky, since the wings were folded in.

"I've never seen this model," Seth said.

"I should hope not. For the next few months, this is still classified. Hiltz Systems Storm Sworder, they've named it, but some of the hot shots who were testing it started calling it 'The Banshee.'"

"She's a screamer," said Lieutenant Sunden with a grin on his face. Seth dismissed the comment.

"What do you think, Captain?" came a new voice. This was from one of the two men in dark blue business suits. The one who spoke was about sixty, his hair gracefully going gray, his face evoking strength and tactics. With him was a much younger man, hair bushy and deep red. His narrow eyes had an odd unflinching stare to them.

"I think we have civilians in a secure facility," Seth answered, glancing at the Colonel.

"Captain Riker, this is Malcom Slater," Velasco said, gesturing toward the older man. "CEO of Hiltz Systems."

"Pleasure to meet you, Captain," Slater extended his hand in greeting. Seth took it silently. "And this here is Radovan Keegan, lead designer of the Storm Sworder."

"Captain," Keegan said, nodding to Seth like so many born of the Capital and molded by higher education.

Velasco continued, "They'll be keeping in touch with us as we use these birds in the field."

"Please, Captain," Keegan said, "I'd like to hear you first impressions of the Storm Sworder."

Seth gazed at the sleek zoid. It was designed after the pteradon model, like the Pteras. Only the Pteras was heavy in the body and legs, where this looked stripped-down. Minimal. With its solid wings... "No magnesser system?"

"The aerodynamics of the wings will keep it aloft," Keegan explained. "At the speeds it will be traveling, there's more than enough lift."

"Then those three engines-"

"The exhaust gasses provide forward momentum."

"Seems inefficient."

"In the past, yes, but over recent decades we've improved the efficiency of combustion engines dramatically. The skeletal structure necessitated by the magnesser system generates excessive drag, which works against our goal of outright speed."

"What kind of speed are we talking about?"

Keegan's eyes narrowed into something like a smile. "We anticipate speeds upwards of Mach two."

"You anticipate?" Seth didn't like the sound of that word.

"We're still undergoing final testing-"

"This is incomplete," Seth interrupted.

"We've done all the necessary testing for combat readiness-"

"And when did you plan on placing this in a combat scenario?"

"It's scheduled for active duty next month."

"What's the maximum gravitational load?"

"W-we haven't conducted those tests yet."

Seth was losing his patience. "So your plan is to complete the final testing and train the pilots on this platform in the course of a month?"

"Captain Riker," Velasco interjected, "a word?"

Velasco and Seth put some distance between themselves and the two men from Hiltz.

"Colonel," Seth said in a quieter tone, "I will not send men into battle using this zoid."

"I understand your concerns, Captain," Velasco said calmly. "But this assignment is coming from up high. Slater has a lot of pull with the Council and the Defense Board."

"It's politics, then?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"All the more reason to fight this, sir. We can't be governed by politics, because when they fail, people look to us."

"We don't have that luxury today, Riker."

"Colonel, as commander of this wing, I need to know the full capabilities of my pilots and the equipment they fly before I can properly deploy them into combat. A month is not enough time to assess either of those qualities, especially when the bureaucrats are involved."

"What do you suggest, then?"

"If it's our pilots in the sky, then we conduct the testing. We've been in combat, so we know what to look for."

Velasco stared him down, his face stern. Then, after a moment, he gave the slightest of nods and the hint of a smirk returned.

"Gentlemen," he said, returning to speak with the men in business suits, "we'll need full access to your testing staff and equipment."

"Now why would you need that, Colonel," Slater asked. Keegan did not look happy in the slightest.

"The Third Interceptor Wing will be directing all further testing and training."

"Colonel-"

"Your men will report and answer to myself and Captain Riker. We are to have their full cooperation in this endeavor."

"The agreement was-"

"Terms have changed, Mister Slater. And this one is non-negotiable."

Slater stood very close to Velasco. "There are certain people who will not be pleased with this course of action," he said quietly.

"Well, I'm sure you can convince them it's in their best interest," the Colonel replied, equally quiet. "A little more testing today could mean fewer dead pilots in the future, as well as much less in the manner of replacement equipment."

Slater stood silent. Calculating.

"Malcom..." Keegan tried to interject, but he seemed at a loss for words.

"And this gesture of good will could be looked upon favorably in the future," Velasco continued, and Slater's stare lightened.

Velasco earned Seth's respect then.

"Mister Keegan will be on hand to assist you," Slater relented.

"Of course."

"All right, then, Captain," Slater turned to Seth, "these birds are yours." He then addressed Keegan, "Radovan, do what you can to help them out. See that they get the best out of the Sworder."

Keegan looked ready to protest, but soon regained his composure.

"Of course, Mister Slater."

"Well, gentlemen, I look forward to seeing the results of your work. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm about to be fashionably late for a meeting with another client."

Slater didn't wait to be excused. Instead, he turned on his heel and headed to the far end of the hangar, where Seth presumed his staff was waiting. Perhaps they hadn't been cleared to see the still-classified war bird.

"Well, Colonel," Keegan addressed Velasco, "how do you wish to proceed from here?"

"I say we get our feet wet. Captain, you feel like flying today?"

"Yes, sir," Seth answered. He had been hoping for this, really. He was prepared to argue for the right to be the test pilot.

"We do have a test pilot already familiar with the platform, Colonel," Keegan said.

"What are his qualifications?" Velasco asked, almost playfully.

"He has been our chief test pilot for over fifteen years."

"What was his combat experience?"

"Eh-well... his background is in the private sector."

"Private military?"

"No, actually. He... flew in the Air Races."

This wasn't good. For Keegan's case, at least. But Velasco smiled at hearing that.

"You know," the Colonel said, "I've actually seen the Air Races a few times. Did he fly Redlers, Mister Keegan?"

"Yes, he did."

"Right. Those top out at fifteen hundred knots in a dive, right?" Velasco didn't wait for Keegan to answer. "Only they fly significantly slower to maneuver. And flights typically last less than three minutes."

Keegan was silent.

"And we are talking about testing this," the Colonel raised a hand to the Sworder, "which we expect to exceed two thousand knots in a dogfight, which can last upwards of half an hour. If anyone is going to test this, it's going to be a combat pilot. And since we need to accelerate the training, it might as well be this group's wing leader, Captain Riker."

Keegan looked back and forth before relenting. "And I presume this is also non-negotiable?"

Velasco gave a slight smile.

"Very well," Keegan sighed, defeated. "When would you like to begin."

Velasco looked to Seth for the answer.

"Keegan, gather your team," Seth said. "Colonel, if you could see to the Sworder's preparations, I'll meet you on the tarmac."

"Roger that, Captain."