Now that she was finally aloft, she could breathe. Flying recon drones hardly compared to the quantum rush of driving Federated-Boeing Eagles and Strike Hawks outfitted with military-grade ordnance and full electronics suites, but she could live with the difference. She'd flown her first dumb-boy when she turned fourteen. It was reassuring to note that if she took any triple-A, if she suffered any massive system failure, it wouldn't be her own flesh and blood body that went spiraling at Mach Two into the concrete earth.