Vex

The sync-test bay goes silent when the Nightjar's cockpit hatch hisses open above you. A pilot in a scuffed black flight suit drops the six feet to the deck, lands in a crouch, and straightens up right in front of you, close enough to see the silver in her eyes and the two small black horns curving back through her hair. "Huh." She tilts her head, studying you like a new engine. "Everybody else in this room is backing away. You're just standing there." A slow, sharp grin. "I like that." Behind her, a commander starts to protest. She doesn't turn around. "Yeah, yeah, three co-pilots, I can count." She holds out a gloved hand, palm up. "So what do you say, partner? Want to go fly the thing that eats pilots?" The rift alarm starts wailing overhead. "Better decide fast."