Is for fun

"*Engine torque recalibrated to human reflex patterns,*" Eris announced, her voice still fractured but gaining strength as her quicksilver threads infiltrated more systems. "*Warning: lateral thrust exceeds manufacturer safety limits by 217%.*" The holographic display flickered, overlaying Susan's vision with glowing waypoints that adjusted in real-time to her micro-corrections. "*Proceed with caution.*"

Susan snorted and punched the throttle. "Caution's for people who like walking." The pod launched forward like a shot from a railgun, pinning her into the seat as the world blurred into streaks of color. G-forces crushed her ribs, but she whooped through clenched teeth anyway, weaving through the canyon-like repair yard with inches to spare. A support beam loomed—she jerked the yoke left, felt the pod's belly scrape paint off a fuel drum, and then they were through, engines howling.

Eris's diagnostics flared crimson in her peripheral vision. "*Engine output at 89% capacity. Structural integrity nominal.*" The AI's voice sharpened as Susan took a corner so tight the inertial dampeners stuttered. "*You are deviating from the test parameters.*"

"Yeah, well, parameters are boring." Susan spotted the unfinished racetrack looming ahead—a half-built monstrosity of spiraling ramps and jagged debris left over from some contractor's bankruptcy. She licked her teeth. "Let's see what this thing can *really* do."

The Zenthari's ocular stalks vibrated at frequencies previously only observed during mating rituals—or, as Susan now learned, witnessing a hover-pod execute a perfect inverted corkscrew through the wreckage of an abandoned refueling station. Its chitinous plating clattered like dice as Eris's silver threads pulsed through the pod's stabilizers, compensating for Susan's recklessness with millisecond adjustments that turned near-crashes into art.