The only remnant of the crashed UTH unit was a fin of the tail rotor lying in an oil puddle when I arrived back at the farmhouse. A quick check of my phone clocked Wyrmpulse’s feasting at a little under five hours. She’d devoured her meal with such speed that I was reminded of all those videos showing a chunk of meat being lowered into a tank full of piranhas. For the sake of my sanity, it was probably a good thing that I hadn’t been around to see her consume it all.

Wyrmpulse was upright, mobile, and stretching as I parked my ATV away from the farmhouse door. She flashed me a grin, announcing, [ You’ve arrived several minutes ahead of your transit average. Are you that eager to fly? ]

“Yes and no,” I replied while pushing open the barn doors. Thanks to the earlier rain the doors were swollen with moisture and were heavier than usual. Combined with the mud and getting them to move was an ordeal. “I wanna see you in the air, but I can barely handle regular commuter flights without freaking out. I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like in an Air-Core like you.”

Without prompting, Wyrmpulse joined me at the doors. Her blue talons wrapped around the edge, then she pushed the doors open with ease. [ I have no point of comparison on what the average Air-Core cockpit is like. Such things are not found on the internet, and any database records I may have once had on the subject have been wiped. However, I am confident in saying that it will be a stimulating, yet comfortable, experience. ]

I stepped back from the now wide-open entryway, looking up at Wyrmpulse. “Speaking of, your nanities work fast. Your cockpit wasn’t operational earlier this evening. I wonder what it’s like in there now.”

Wyrmpulse returned my stares, though her smile faltered as she responded, [ I must confess something, Ivan. Prior to being registered as my pilot, you were barred from entering the cockpit. Only my pilot has that kind of authorization. Once you enter the cockpit the bonding process will be complete. I will be yours, and you mine, until one of us is no longer among the living. ]

That revelation brought me pause. “Hold on. You’re saying that this ‘bonding’ process is life-long? If so, why choose me as your pilot? Why not wait to meet someone who actually knows how to fly?”

[ Anyone can learn to fly, ] she answered. [ Not everyone would go as far as you have to restore me. Compatibility between pilot and Air-Core is crucial as it affects the synchronization and bonding rate. A poor and/or forced match would yield a substandard unit. ]

“I guess that explains why not every ace pilot has their own Air-Core,” I surmised. “If the process were as simple as manufacturing an Air-Core and giving it to whatever pilot was next on the waiting list, then Air-Cores would be everywhere. You make it sound more like, I dunno, an interview or a dating system.”

Chuckling, Wyrmpulse observed, [ You are not entirely incorrect. The bio-lock requires an input of genetic material, be it a sample of skin, blood, saliva, or something more salacious. For us, a simple draw of your plasma will suffice. ]

My eyebrow raised at the implications of what she had revealed. “You mean to say that pilots and Air-Cores can… That there are pilots who…”

[ Make “romantic gestures”, yes. ]

“Well now I don’t know what to feel,” I admitted. “But never mind the path my mind wants to take. You said you need some of my blood? How do you plan on getting it? Should I do what they do in movies and cut the palm of my hand or something?”

Wyrmpulse knelt down, though even then her knee was at chest-height to me. Her dexterous claws took hold of my right arm and guided me to extend it out towards her. [ Nothing so barbaric. Venipuncture along your arm will suffice. ]

“Ah. Are you going to create a needle attached to your talons?”

[ A better process, if your choice in reading material is any indication. Brace yourself. There might be a sharp prick. ]

I started to ask what she meant when she flashed her incisors at me. I very quickly put two and two together, though for some reason I kept coming up with five instead of the expected four. Surely, she wasn’t about to vampire my arm?

Wyrmpulse’s draconic head snaked down towards my exposed arm. Her mouth opened, pouring heat across my skin, causing goosebumps to form. I experienced a moment of helplessness as her teeth grew closer to my flesh. If she really wanted to, Wyrmpulse could have chewed through my arm and used my bones as a toothpick.

Her fangs made contact. Strangely, I felt only a brief sting as they took a blood sample. Blood throbbed in my ears and my vision narrowed as time seemed to stretch on and on. Yet it was only ten seconds later when Wyrmpulse withdrew, licking her lips. I looked where she had bitten and could find no trace of a puncture or any wound whatsoever.

[ Finalizing Pilot Registration. You are an O-, Ivan. Have you considered donating blood before? You are an universal donor and thus highly sought after, ] Wyrmpulse said as she let go of my arm and stood back up.

Rubbing the area she had poked, I commented, “I didn’t know that. Maybe I can get some extra cash at the Red Cross or something. I uh… wasn’t expecting any of what just happened.”

[ Would you rather we performed a different sampling process? ] Wyrmpulse asked with a mischievous smirk.

“No, No. That’s fine. I just didn’t think you’d emulate one of my favorite supernatural beings like that. So that’s it, then? We’re bonded now?”

[ Correct. You have full access. ]

I clapped my hands and rubbed them together eagerly. “Alright, now we’re talking. Let’s see that cockpit of yours before the adrenaline wears off.”

[ As you wish. ]

Wyrmpulse knelt again, though this time she did so facing away from me. The handle that controlled access to her cockpit, located right above where her tail connected to her spine, pushed up and rotated clockwise. A seam appeared along her spine, running from tail base to right below her wings and accompanied by a hissing sound. Much like the barn doors we had just opened, both left and right portions of her lower back swung open to reveal her cockpit.

From the outside, her interior looked like a metallic, capsule-shaped pocket that might have been large enough to fit a child or maybe a curled-up adult. The dark, silvery walls were accented with glowing, circuit-like designs that pulsated slowly. A crimson light poured down from further up beyond the edge of her access port. I assumed that light was coming from her reactor, adding to my confusion as to how I was supposed to fit.

“Er, I don’t think I’m small enough to get inside,” I said.

[ Trust me, you’ll fit, ] Wyrmpulse said, looking back over her shoulder.

I eyed her cockpit again, shook my head, then threw caution to the wind. I took hold of the handles on the interior of her doors and hoisted myself up and inside. To my surprise, there was no sign of her reactor. In fact, Wyrmpulse was bigger on the inside unless my understanding of spatial relativity had gone out the window. I had plenty of wiggle room, or at least more than a pilot of a F-22 did.

The red light from earlier was a holodisplay located up towards Wyrmpulse’s head. The virtual screen displayed various pre-flight system diagnostics, including reactor readouts, ammo stores, thruster alignments, life support settings, and a line of text that read [ AWAITING PILOT INPUT ] right in the center.

Once I was fully inside there was another hiss, followed by Wyrmpulse’s chassis sealing behind me. Her voice filled the space from unseen speakers. [ What do you think, Ivan? ]

“I don’t know whether I’m in an Iron Man-like battlesuit or in a prone-angled mecha cockpit. But it’s really cool.” I acknowledged.

[ The cockpit is designed to suit user needs. You can indeed emulate Tony Stark should you wish for fine motor control. Conversely, should you wish me to handle most of the work, then virtual joysticks and more “traditional” buttons and dials will manifest. ]

“Damn, that’s slick,” I whistled. “What else can your cockpit do?”

[ Aside from providing a sealed environment capable of sustaining itself for 48 hours in a vacuum, the space can restrict to assist in keeping proper blood flow to your brain during high G maneuvers. Standard rating is up to 7 Gs. Anything higher than that depends on your ability to breathe and contract the correct muscles. ]

“So at some point I’m going to have to get high G training,” I concluded. “Alright. I don’t think we need to worry about that on our first flight here. We’re just going for a leisurely flight into some thunderstorms. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

[ I believe the expression is “you are tempting fate”, Ivan, ] Wyrmpulse dryly offered.

“Probably. Let’s get into the air before I chicken out. Do you need a runway to take off?”

[ While I can use a runway, I am also perfectly capable of using CATOBAR and VTOL methods. ]

“So you can launch off a carrier and take off/land like a helicopter,” I simplified. “Very cool. My only piloting experience comes from video games, so you should probably handle the bulk of our first flight.”

An array of holographic buttons and knobs manifested in the space around me in the cockpit, while virtual joysticks appeared before each of my hands. At the same time, the pre-flight diagnostics disappeared on the HUD and were replaced by an airspeed indicator, an altimeter, an attitude indicator, a directional gyro, a turn coordinator, and a vertical speed indicator. There was no active feed of the exterior, though Wyrmpulse addressed that in short order:

[ Pre-flight checks complete. Would seeing outside trigger your acrophobia? Or do you require the opposite to avoid such panic? ]

“I usually can’t watch takeoffs and landings, but once I’m fine looking out of a window once I’m in the air proper.”

[ Understood. Leaving cockpit in autistic mode until cruising altitude has been reached. Spooling reactor. Adjusting primary control surfaces. Firing main thrusters. Launch in 10.. 9… 8… ]

Though I could only faintly hear the whine of Wyrmpulse’s reactor and the roar of her thrusters, I definitely felt the latter’s vibrations as they ramped up with the countdown. I closed my eyes as Wyrmpulse bent at the knee and prepared to leap into the air at the count of 4.

[ 3… 2… 1… Liftoff! ]