"Roger that, Saber 1. If I may, why am I always number 3? I get the feeling that I'm a third wheel now." The grin on his face hidden by his helmet, Yelgir climbed into [i]Thor[/i]'s cockpit, and settled in for the long ride. The blast-gel nest fitted itself to his body, and tendons poked free from the ambiguous mass to secure the small android in place. The control cable attached to the port on his neck, and Yelgir felt the systems of his craft come alive. No matter how many times this happened, it was always as wonderful as the first. He felt at home with [i]Thor[/i], more so than any other vehicles he had piloted.

The viewscreen on his helmet was ignored beneath the flow of information from the fightercraft, detailing fuel levels, power flow, damage, direction, speed, weapon specifics, nearby ships; everything needed to fly a spaceship. This is why androids were the only ones who could fly miniature fighters. The "small" machines needed nearly as much handling as a full-size battleship, but they didn't have enough room for the 20 or so people to run the stations.

"Saber 1, this is Saber 3. [i]Thor[/i] is a go for launch. See you guys at dinner!"