“I realize that. We developed a similar system to transport materials into orbit.” Milla frowned, considering that. “What I do not understand is what type of system you use to allow control at those speeds.”

Stephanos looked uncomfortable but shook it off and climbed up a ladder, dropping into the cockpit as he waved her up. “Well, come on up.”

Milla climbed the small ladder so she could get a view of the cockpit. “Yes?”

“Well, the pilot controls the plane’s movement with the foot pedals you see down there, as well as the throttle and the control stick on either side of the seat.” Stephanos reached down and toyed with the control stick. “You can see that it allows for full movement over six different axes—or any combination of the six.”

Milla just nodded her head and accepted the pilot’s obvious omission without comment. She knew that the system was efficient, but it couldn’t handle a plane at a tenth light-speed within a planetary atmosphere. Obviously, these people had their secrets, and it wasn’t as if she were going to trust them with any of the defense secrets of her people.

The rest of the pilot’s tour was interesting, but for her, the highlights had already been hit. She listened with mild interest as he described the fighter’s engines and safety features, noted with mild amusement that he skimmed quickly over the weapons systems without really saying anything, and found herself instead studying the man rather than the machine. Stephanos was tall, over six feet, his hair a little rougher than most of the people milling around. She couldn’t decide what color his hair was because in places it seemed dark brown and in others it was a reddish hue.

He seemed to have a permanent smile etched on his face, a jovial glint in his eyes that was echoed by the lines drawn in his flesh from years of laughter.

Milla tried to remind herself that this was a self-confessed killer, a man who hunted his own kind. It was hard to keep that in mind when confronted with the cheerful visage he presented.

He simply didn’t fit her image of the bloodthirsty barbarians in the legends of the Others.

“Are you done yet, Steph?”

Milla blinked, startled by Weston’s voice. How did I miss the sound of his boots on the floor?

“Huh? Oh, sure, Chief,” he said, flipping another not-quite-sloppy salute at the captain. “Standard VIP stuff all done.”

“Good. I think we’ll head back to the bridge to see how the system survey is coming,” Weston said.

“I’m going to go over some of the maintenance logs with Riley over there,” Stephanos said. “I noticed some slack in the throttle when we were on the SAR.” He turned and headed over to a small man holding an oversized PDA.

“‘SAR,’ Captaine?” Milla asked.

“Search and rescue operation,” Weston replied offhandedly. “When we went out to pick you up.”

“Oh.”

“This way back to the lift, Milla,” Weston gestured, leading them back to the ship’s lift. Milla could see Dr. Palin standing nervously beside it. “What is wrong with the docteur?”