“So that’s that, then,” Zandith said, grinding his teeth. One of the several screens in front of him presented a blurry frame of Eleanor’s distraught face behind her descending shoe.

“Confirmed loss of both signals,” announced Specter Three.

Zandith leaned on a tall, gnarled stalagmite, his gaze jumping from screen to screen. It turned out the blackmail bluff wasn’t as big of a success as he’d hoped. The new info on Brandon certainly made sense but did no good. He’d already sent the signal to Four to stay far away from Brandon. It was too dangerous to interact with him further.

“Send a message to the Vein,” Zandith commanded. “Tell them of their new… special target. They will certainly find him enticing.”

Three was silent as he typed his response. He used the coded language they had developed over the years, so that on top of the multiple levels of encryption, the raw message would be difficult to decipher.

“Have we secured Rivercrest?” Zandith asked when Three sent the message. The mansion had sparked a bit too much of a debate for his liking. He hadn’t expected the bribes to work as well as they did.

“Most investigations have hit dead-ends,” reported Three. “The remaining investigators are now looking like conspiracy-theorists to outsiders.”

Zandith smirked. “Oh, to know you’re correct and be shunned for it. A suitable punishment for doing the right thing. What about Marvain?”

“Most of her support dried up after the bribe.”

He hadn’t wanted to resort to a bribe. He hoped they would pursue her, but that Duke guy was a monumentally inconvenient do-gooder, having connected the dots for the other bidders.

“And what of Duke’s activities?” Zandith asked.

“He seems to be frightened, based on surveillance footage.” Three brought up a window that showed the heavy man pacing in his extravagant backyard. His forehead was shiny and he bit his fingernails constantly.

Zandith stood up straight and took a step closer to the screen. “Oh, that’s enticing. His invulnerability has left him vulnerable.”

He contemplated following up the bribe with a threat, or possibly with an outright punishment. He had to do something. Too many bluffs and the threats lost their power. It couldn’t be too obvious, though. If Duke was killed, or even one of his family members, it could lend credence to Marvain’s case. The conspiracy theorists would have more evidence for their theories, and they could potentially win over some skeptics. No, it was too soon to create an “accidental” death as well. He had to be indirect, very indirect, yet still telling to Duke.

If Duke continued on his current path, as Zandith was sure he would, Zandith would have to gamble with telling the Vein about him too. Even with the convenience of illusions, and Three to cover the digital footprints, keeping his identity hidden from that group proved challenging. The last thing he needed was for them to put him on their list.

Then Zandith remembered. “When was the last time Four checked the status of the stealth ship?”

“Last week,” Three said, pulling up Four’s report. A smile steadily grew on Zandith’s face as he read. They were ahead of schedule, thanks to the extra war support from Eredore. The prototype had gone through a few initial tests over Sylga’s own cities. All were successful. There were still a few flaws that had to do with the illusion projectors interfering with the shield generators, but that was being iterated on at a healthy pace. The subtle tips and hints he’d slipped them covertly over the years had paid off. They’d also kept the knowledge top-secret, as he’d also predicted.

Now it was time to cash out the investment.

“It’s perfect… so perfect!” Zandith beamed at Three, who returned his usual glum look. He started down the natural cave hallway to the medical room. “Isn’t it beautiful, when two plans become one?”

Specter One was roaming the medical room, performing checks on each of the medical pods. She had been indicating lately that some might need maintenance or upgrades. The times to deepen trances were getting longer, though she could say why yet.

Zandith stood in front of Specter Four’s pod, only identifiable by the subtle currents of energy he sensed through the connection. Four’s energy field always gave off a level of anger and vengeance, depending on the state of his modified mindscape. It’d been a hard-fought battle to get him tranced in the beginning, but his service in the years since had been vital to Zandith’s plans. He was as valuable as Specter Three.

The lid swung open after Zandith terminated the trancing session. Four sat up, blinking slowly until his gaze took on the default half-dazed stare.

Zandith looked at him with his arms folded. “Change of plans.”

Four swung his legs out of the pod and stood up. “What kind of change?”

“Time.”

“Have our calculations been misguided?”

“No, but now we have more data, and the calculation suggests something different.” Zandith told him about the recent events with Brandon and Eleanor. They needed a diversion quick, before they put any more pieces together. Fortunately, they had already planned a diversion years in advance for a much higher purpose, and moving it forward a few months wouldn’t affect the plan much. In fact, Zandith saw the potential improvements generated from this new situation.

He told Four to suit up and review the schematics of the target complex. He didn’t wait for Four’s opinion; Four wasn’t quite capable of having an opinion in his deepened Trance state. Take orders and execute. That was his only purpose.

Back in Three’s chamber, Zandith reviewed the status of the Rivercrest Mansion purchase. Damron Wellfire’s recent transformation into Specter Eight couldn’t have come at a better time. His Aetheric mining business was booming thanks to the innovative demands of AetherTech and other, smaller, Aetherics corporations. Specter Eight’s next property purchase would have to wait for several more months, though he had already marked it on the map. Just a few more after that, and construction could begin.

Now that Eight’s acquisition of the mansion was public knowledge, there would be far less inquiry of the drilling that was due to take place on the property.

“Begin composition of a message to our brave bribe-deniers,” Zandith commanded, leaning again on the stalagmite. “It’ll be a short message: ‘What happens next will be on your hands because of your refusal.’”

He read Three’s typed out message several times over for any typos. As usual, there were none. In his many years working with Three, he could only remember a handful of times he caught a typo. Even in the business of manipulation, he wanted to retain some semblance of poise. There were few other areas in his life he could do that.

Zandith authorized the message for sending. Without turning to him, Three spoke. “And what of Eleanor?” He already started up a new email addressed to her personal account.

“Same message,” Zandith said, waving dismissively, “except without the refusal part. She’s a smart woman. She’ll know.”

With that message sent, he told Three to automatically reroute any replies to his suit as well as Four’s; They would be going into areas with poor reception.

The day above ground was getting short on light, so he wasted no time getting the speeder cloaked and in the air. He adjusted the engine efficiency settings to minimize the chance of anyone picking up on their heat trails. It had taken several hours of simulations and days of testing before he found a combination that worked. If he was desperate, he could extend the cloak a mile behind the craft, but an illusion like that would leave the crystal he was using spent and scalding. Terribly inefficient.

The sun hit the dusty horizon just as they crossed the edge of the Arin Desert, the sweeping wasteland far north of Ridgemire. Zandith couldn’t make out individual dunes at the speeder’s altitude, even with the shallow angle of the sun accenting the shadows. He hated traveling over this part of the supercontinent. There was nothing to do here, nothing to see here, nobody to control here. At least the ocean harbored life, however sparse. Here, one was lucky to spot a fern. Birds never ventured far into the desert.

He kept the speeder barely subsonic; Sonic booms were still a risk, even in the middle of nowhere. He would, however, soon be in possession of a craft that could go as fast as it pleased, leaving no trace of its journey through the atmosphere. He’d designed his own speeder in haste, overlooking sonic booms. If he got lucky, he could even find the engineer who designed the ship and recruit him as a new Specter Seven. Redesigning the speeder would be easier and faster, then. Though, he secretly hoped he didn’t fill the Specter Seven spot; he still wanted Brandon as Specter Seven.

He slowly decreased the altitude of the speeder as night fell. In the distance, black voids jutted into the night sky. The Kallyen Range was one of the highest mountain ranges on the planet. The white peaks were perpetually frozen, even at the height of summer. They had only been scaled a handful of times in Sylga’s history. About half of those expeditions had ended in disaster. He chose the peak with the highest casualty rate.

He guided the speeder to a hover, searching for a level area for only a minute before he found one overlooking a half-mile drop-off to a small stream below. As soon as it touched down, the wheels engages their spikes while the drill-brakes were being deployed. It went into standby mode after deploying its anchor into the several-meter deep drill hole.

Zandith stood next to Four on the edge of the cliff. A consistent headwind blew white swirls up the mountainside. The occasional gust would cause them to adjust their stance. Ice crystals were already forming on the hard edges of the power armor, though not near where Aetherite was embedded.

Lights gleamed in the distance. The alpine city of Kallyen was nestled in a cluster of smaller hills that made for its own natural defense system. Even the entire nation of Sylga was raised on a plateau, due to the timeless battle between continental plates. To Sylgans, Kallyen was the most secure city in the nation, and they had good reason to think that. Though, they would learn shortly that nothing was secure from Zandith.

He studied the terraced formations of buildings with fascination. “Plateaus within plateaus within plateaus.”

It was a clever design. The mountainous terrain made unauthorized entry difficult, but once inside, there was hardly a place to hide except within the buildings themselves. He wasn’t too concerned. They knew about illusions, but Three had indicated that, so far, they hadn’t found a way to detect them.

“How long until the night shifts begin?” he asked Four.

“Eighteen minutes, thirty-eight seconds,” the soldier replied.

Zandith looked straight down. The drop-off would have terrified him once. He took a step forward. “No time to waste. Active cloak!”

They fell headlong, passing within meters of the cliff face. He felt the moment when they exited the cloaking range of the speeder. They would have been visible then, if they hadn’t engaged their own invisibility illusions. The howling winds threatened to hurl them back against the mountain, but they used short bursts from their flight stabilizers to compensate. At halfway down to the winding stream below, they used those bursts to gradually level out their flight to a shallow angle. They aimed at a jagged hill on the outskirts of the city. Only once they were seconds from impact did they fire all thrusters. They skipped off the side, careful to touch only rock and not snow. Another short burst of thrusters landed them behind a boulder emerging from the hill.

He peeked around the boulder, then walked out from cover when he remembered he was cloaked. Four followed. It was only a short walk to the perimeter wall. The metal barrier towered above them, daring them to try. Zandith adjusted his illusion, as did Four. Sensors of various types lined the top of the barrier. He didn’t just need optical invisibility, but deep into the infrared and ultraviolet as well. They already had acoustic cloaking active, and the perpetual winds would erase their tracks soon enough.

The thruster-assisted jumps sent them just high enough to clear the top of the barrier. They landed softly on a wide street lined with generic buildings, each with steep roofs. Half the streetlights were blinking irregularly from lack of maintenance.

This was one of the few residential zones of the city, mostly housing the government employees and research teams. In a way, it was one of Sylga’s ‘research cities.’ They rarely let the public stay for long; It was a place reserved for the rich, powerful, and smart. It was difficult to find on a map, partially because some map databases in Eredore were ignorant of Kallyen. Zandith was pleased by Sylga’s tendency for secrecy. It would make breaking their bond with Eredore that much easier.

They leapt past the houses, making as few snow-prints as possible. They both knew their targets, but they couldn’t take them until they were within the research facility, which was on the other side of the city. Based on the past few surveillance missions, they knew exactly where to hide and wait. The scientists operated on predictable shifts, which was a security flaw Zandith was surprised they made no effort to cover.

The entrance building looked inconspicuous on the outside: A single-story building with a flat roof and no windows. It was tucked away in the far corner of the city amidst a cluster of unimportant maintenance sheds. Zandith and Four each took their position behind their own shed, each with a different vantage point for the scene.

They only had to wait a few minutes before the expected rovers rolled up to the building. They all looked the same, the engineers, the scientists, the pilots. To tolerate the extreme cold for any amount of time in the city, heavy snow gear was required, including the heated helmet and mask. The only difference could be determined by their individual auras. There were those subtle mental and emotional cues that gave away the identity of each one to Zandith. And each identity was potentially a handle he could use. He and Four would each be using one today.

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They emerged from their positions, still under the invisibility illusions. Each research scientist had to enter the building separately, scanning himself individually. Fortunately, the door remained open for a couple seconds before closing again. That was more than enough time for Zandith to slip in behind his target, the supervisor, Marst. The hallway was short, and it looked like all the colleagues were waiting for each other so they could take the lift together. Four made it in behind his target, Kargen, the pilot.

Fortunately, the hallway was wide enough Zandith and Four could hang by the walls without coming too close to touching the others. He wished at that moment that illusions could cover more than just sight and sound. One accidental touch, and the whole operation was a bust. This next part would be trickier; There would be far less time to enter the lift because they were all entering at once. Zandith signaled Four to get ready to enter as fast as possible, but then at the last second, he remembered: this was a shift change!

The lift door opened, and sure enough, there were a dozen people waiting to get off. Zandith signaled Four to stay where he was, and he had to push himself against the wall as those waiting to enter the lift parted down the middle for those exiting. Marst missed touching Zandith by mere centimeters. Four was not quite as close to being touched. After several tense seconds, the scientists started filling up the lift. Zandith found a tiny window of opportunity and took it, utilizing the one meter of clearance next to Marst as he entered. Zandith didn’t have enough room to get to the back of the lift, but the area was big enough they weren’t going to be much more crammed as in the hallway.

For a few seconds, Zandith thought Four wasn’t going to make it, but then he slipped in after the last scientist. With no other place to hide, Four simply stood directly in front of the door, less than a meter away from Kargen. Zandith though about bringing him over to his own corner, but then he realized the advantage of Four’s position and moved next to him.

The ride into the depths of the facility was short and quiet. None of the scientists spoke. Zandith figured it was part of entry protocol to keep quiet, though he sensed they were anything but quiet on the inside. Waves of anxious energy brushed against Zandith, and he had to employ a considerable amount of willpower to not take advantage. The manipulation would be so easy. Their emotional triggers were begging to be set off. But it would have to wait. He needed to conserve his energy for his target.

Zandith and Four practically leapt out of the lift once the door opened, but not before checking if the hallway was clear. The workers promptly dispersed to their respective roles. The complex was a maze of hallways that expanded further down into the ground and out into the mountain. The distance between Zandith and Four quickly increased, and their signals became less stable. As expected, they had lost contact with Three as soon as they went underground, but coordination of the mission would become exceedingly difficult if they lost contact with each other.

Zandith followed Marst into what he presumed was the control room. Several consoles were laid out in rows, some projecting images and diagrams for the workers to interact with. Most of the models were unrecognizable, but the one Marst approached caught Zandith’s eye. It was labeled “Draco 3”.

Briefly checking the stability of his acoustic cloaking, Zandith whistled. “Hey there, sexy!”

The ship had a sleek, streamlined look. The red tint of the projection concealed its true color, but black was a safe assumption. The cockpit was situated at the end of a “neck” attached to an angular body that tapered off in a tail. At first glance, it appeared to have no wings, but they were neatly hidden away in the body. It squatted on nimble legs, looking perpetually ready to spring into the air on a moment’s notice.

Marst demanded updates on their readiness for what he kept referring to as “Phase Eleven”. After a few minutes, Zandith would understand that Phase Eleven was code for weapons testing. He also overheard short reports for the success for Phase Ten, which was the stealth maneuvering capability. The body and wings of the Draco 3 was capable of deforming itself to execute complex maneuvers those stiff-winged craft could dream of doing. The design was remarkably similar to real-life critters; the defense AI had even been trained on the superhuman reflexes of bugs and insects.

The last report confirmed the findings of Specter Three: There was still shielding trouble when cloaking was active. Some areas either had weak coverage or no coverage at all. After seeing the projection of the craft, Zandith immediately knew what they were dealing with. The Aetheric power output was overwhelming the materials used to manipulate the energy flowing from the Aetherite, causing the throttling mechanisms to reduce output to protect from overheating. He’d had the same issue with an earlier version of his power armor.

It seemed that they were successful in keeping the Draco designs secure, as Three had only been able to access their reports, and there were a few with which he still couldn’t break the encryption. Sylga’s encryption system was the most complex he’d ever seen, clearly managed by an AI. Fortunately, Three had an extensive skillset in AI, so he’d created his own to help with decryption. Still, Sylga remained a half step ahead of them. Had Three been able to access the Draco designs beforehand, Zandith would have slipped them a few helpful tips months ago.

Marst requested clarification on the last report, then switched the projection to a new model, Draco 4. It was nearly identical to the previous model, with some slight adjustments to the shape of the hull. There were also notes detailing the upgrades to the Aetheric channeling systems. Zandith wouldn't be able to determine the efficacy of the upgrades without either digging into Marst's mind or recruiting him as Specter Seven. He didn't want to do either if he could help it. Cover would be harder to maintain.

"ETA to the hangar?" Zandith asked Four.

"Unknown," he replied.

"Why?"

"Target is engaged in conversation of unknown length. Discussion regards flight control updates."

Zandith sighed. "Study these designs in the meantime. The current model is Draco 3, but there should also be a Draco 4 in the works with improvements. Draco 3 is the objective. Draco 4 won't be ready for a few weeks at least."

"Understood."

Zandith paused as he considered the way forward. "Don't let the conversation go on too long. We can't afford to waste time."

There was no response, and Zandith could feel a flicker of confusion from Four's direction. He had inadvertently given him an impossible task, as Four couldn't interrupt the conversation without being noticed.

"As soon as you are within the hangar and have a visual of the Draco 3, perform the extraction," Zandith said. "We can't risk sensors detecting on-board anomalies."

"The pilot suit is sending constant updates on vital signs."

"Copy the signals, then broadcast them on repeat the instant you knock out his transmission. They will notice discrepancies eventually, but be only need a minute or so."

"Understood."

Zandith smiled. The chain of command was immensely satisfying at times, especially when it went unquestioned.

He watched Four's feed eagerly. The conversation lasted a few more minutes, then they proceeded into the expansive hangar. It was segmented into several wide bays, each delineated by a thick metal wall. Zandith grew worried when Four didn't immediately take action, then he realized the craft within sight was the work-in-progress Draco 4, with only a black skeleton assembled. The tail of the Draco 3 was partially visible from the adjacent bay.

Four initiated the memory extraction as soon as the hull was fully within view. Zandith sensed the perturbation in the Aetheric energies even before he saw them on Four's feed. The illusion engulfed Kargen, but he never had time to react. A copy of him continued on its way to the craft. His broadcasting chip was disabled by Four's shallow slice with a quick Aether blade. A quick strike to the side stunned him. His brief scream was smothered by the acoustic cloaking before it was cut out by Four's armored hand clutching his scalp. Red light flashed. The body dropped to the ground, burn marks still smoldering on the head.

"Extraction successful," Four reported as he carried the body to the craft, walking in sync with the illusion-Kargen.

"How much?" Zandith asked.

"Seven Gabs."

Zandith frowned. "Is it enough to be useful?"

A few moments passed before Four's response. "It will be."

In the control room, Marst spoke. "Kar, are the control updates manageable? We'll need your best tonight."

After a brief pause, he cleared his throat and spoke with more authority. "Kar, are the control updates manageable?"

Zandith clenched his teeth. "Four, that's you! respond!"

"Respond to what?" Four replied.

Zandith glanced around the control room. The others had stopped their tasks and were now looking at Marst, who spoke again with an edge of concern. "Kar, respond."

"Respond to Marst talking to Kargen!" Zandith blurted.

"I am not hearing anything."

"Shit!"

Marst was now scrolling what looked like a contact list. He selected someone with the title of Admiral.

Zandith couldn't allow him any more action. He fired Aether bolts at the three other workers with a single sweep of his arm. Marst whirled in surprise, but Zandith had already put illusions in place by then. He used Marst's moment of hesitation to extract his memories. It was all over in less than two seconds.

He took a couple of labored breaths as the body slumped over a chair. A voice came from the console. It was the Admiral. "Supervisor Marst, you have ten seconds to explain to me why—"

Zandith swiftly erected a Marst-illusion and made it speak. "Apologies, sir! I meant to contact someone else."

He ended the call before a reply could be heard, frantically sifting through the newly acquired memories. The extraction itself was hasty, and he was sure he’d burned Marst dead before most of the memories could be acquired. He checked the amount and frowned. Three Gabs was hardly anything useful. Most of them were cut off or incomplete. He found part of a password to somewhere within the facility. There a couple code phrases for specific situations, one of which he was about to tell the Admiral. It would have warned him of an intrusion. As far as Zandith knew, the Admiral had already clued into that. He didn’t want to wait to find out.

“Fire it up ASAP,” Zandith told Four. “We might have company shortly.”

“The bay doors are closed,” replied Four.

Zandith checked the feed. The Draco 3 was facing down a long hallway that ended with enormous sliding doors. Four was completing the requisite scans for entry. He entered a password from the newly acquired memories, then a hatch lowered from the chest area of the craft. He laid Kargen’s body down next to the craft, careful to keep it cloaked. Four climbed the steep ramp, then the feed’s signal grew very weak. It updated once every couple seconds, and with only fragments of the frame.

“Gah!” Zandith growled. “Of course they used passive signal inhibitors.”

He used the Marst-illusion to search the interface for any kind of bay door controls. There weren’t enough clues in the extracted memories, so he was on his own. He received a message from Four: “Ready.” At least those signals could make it through.

A dozen fruitless seconds later, footsteps sounded far down the hallway outside the control room. Several sets of them. He dropped all illusions except for invisibility, then briefly extended it so nobody would see the door open.

There were armed guards storming down the corridor, converging on the control room in both directions. For a split second, he froze. He wasn’t sure he could take them all in such a narrow space. Then he realized he didn’t have to. The corridor was just high enough.

He leapt up and planted his hands and feet on the walls, pinning him in a horizontal position. He side-walked above the heads of the guards as they broke open the door to the control room and shouted threats. After just a few meters of the stunt, he was back on the floor, leaving the confused guards behind him.

He used the replay of Four’s feed to find his way to the hangar, but when he arrived, he saw he was too late. Dozens of soldiers surrounded the Draco 3, heavy firearms pointed. Zandith broke into a sprint as he sent the message to Four: “Get it off the ground!”

Just as he sped past them, rows of fine red lines appeared along the hull as the hidden engines roared to life, blowing a few soldiers back. The legs retracted instantly. A few shots from the soldiers rang out, but each bolt was deflected by the shields and scorched the rock ceiling instead. Zandith had Four drop the cloak around Kargen’s body. The resulting shock from the soldiers stalled their attack for a few seconds as they tried to understand what was happening.

Zandith bounded to the massive interlocking doors a couple dozen meters from the craft. He created another illusion for the door to hide what he was about to do. He pulled massive energy from multiple crystals in the arm of his suit and focused it into a beam that penetrated the metal. He angled the beam outward from the hole he planned to carve, so the plug would fall outward.

After only a couple seconds of carving the wide hole, alerts blared within the hangar. He spared a glance back and saw the Draco 3 still hovering there. There was a low grinding noise from all around him. He caught the motion just in time to leap back from the new orange scar as a second set of doors slammed shut over the first. They were over a meter thick.

He slammed his fist into the newly deployed barricade. “Fuck!”

He whirled around and started back to the Draco 3. He sent a message to Four: “Blast your way through.”

The reply was immediate: “I will have to lower the front shields.”

Zandith replied furiously: “Just do it!”

More soldiers began flooding the hangar, all firing at the craft. Zandith dropped all illusions and sprinted at the nearest soldiers. A few began to take notice of him just as he decapitated two of them with one swipe. Several of them swiveled their firearms toward him, but then jumped back as the Draco 3 unleashed a stream of red bolts from its hull. Zandith considered throwing a cloak over the craft, but remembered that everyone here was likely aware of the craft’s abilities. They wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

But that didn’t mean they couldn’t be fooled.

Zandith sprang an illusion of himself over several rows of soldiers, while concealing his real position. They fired with vengeance at the illusion, only to hold back a moment later when they realized they were downing their own soldiers opposite the illusion.

Then bolts started flying everywhere, with little coherence of a common target. A few hit Zandith’s shield while he made quick work of another squad. Then a few more started hitting their marks until Zandith extended the illusion to the fighters. Now the other soldiers had a harder time following the trail of blood he was creating. To them, it looked like he had stopped attacking.

After half a minute of illusions and slaughtering, he received a message from Four: “The hole is big enough.”

Zandith told him to leave and wait for him at the speeder. The Draco 3 spontaneously sprouted wings from its hull, but they weren’t the angular, structured wings of most craft. They were bent and bowed like organic, leathery wings. Zandith paused for a moment and stared in awe. “Cool.”

Then half the hangar blazed red as the engines shot the vehicle forward. The wings made tiny adjustments to keep the craft steady. They retracted slightly for an easier fit through the new hole in the hangar. Once the craft plunged into the dark of night, the wings tilted and it swerved violently left, in the direction of the speeder.

The volley of bolts from the soldiers was sparse as the craft left sight. Most of them were scrambling in different directions, but Zandith couldn’t bother himself with them any longer. He made his way to the end of the hangar bay and leapt through the new exit.

The thrusters of his suit fired, but far weaker than he expected. He felt himself falling, and when further effort to increase thrust failed, he realized why. In his efforts during the heist, he had depleted most of the suit’s Aetherite charge but was too preoccupied to notice the warnings from the suit.

Gusts of wind blew him around like a leaf. He narrowly missed a large spire of rock protruding from the mountainside. He spread his body wide in an attempt to stabilize his fall, but there was little he could do in the vortices of the mountain winds. The suit’s scanners gave him a general view of what was below him, but they were approximations at best. He couldn’t tell where safe areas to land would be.

Just then, something phased into existence under and slightly behind him. The suit’s external lights reflected off something metal, then the Draco 3 emerged into full view. It was just a few meters below him. He must have gone within the boundaries of its cloak.

He deactivated his sputtering thrusters and maneuvered himself onto the back of the craft just behind the neck. Zandith hugged the surface with all his might as Four eased the steep dive into a level flight, then into a shallow climb.

He glanced behind the craft, curious as to why there was no engine rumble or red glare. What he saw instead were the trailing edges of the wings burred with vibration far faster than his eyes could follow. And they were so quiet they couldn’t be heard over the wind.

So that’s how they avoid making a heat-trail. Zandith marveled. It seemed the geniuses behind the Draco project were fond of animalistic propulsion mechanics, and now he was too. Though, how they managed to accomplish this with nanotech evaded him. Perhaps they wouldn’t have needed his occasional pointers after all.

He messaged Four: “Get me to the speeder. We’re not trading one toy for another.”

He relaxed his grip on the craft as he smirked to himself. I’m gonna need some hemberries after this.