LEARNING BY DOING . . .
“Well, Jimmy, I think I’m just going to have to take this Dralthi for a test drive. Better stand clear.”
Even through the helmet faceplate, Hunter could see the tech’s eyes widen. “But, sir—” he protested.
Hunter ignored him, popped the bottom hatch and crawled up into the alien fighter. This’s a peculiar way to do things, he thought, climbing up into the cockpit and sliding over into the pilot’s chair. He latched the hatch, listening as it automatically sealed to become airtight. His spacesuit readings said that the cockpit was slowly pressurizing with breathable air. Good. He wriggled in the seat, trying to make it feel more comfortable. The seat was made of plant fibers woven into a chair, with a large empty spot at the back of the chair . . . for the cat’s tail, he decided. The seat was too large for him, but he strapped himself in anyhow. As his suit readouts switched to green, indicating that the cockpit was fully pressurized, he popped his faceplate; the suit had twenty minutes on the emergency tank, but there was no reason to use it now.
“Hunter, are you authorized for this?” Jimmy’s voice said anxiously through the speakers in Hunter’s helmet.
“Not a problem, mate!” Hunter replied, looking in perplexity at the control panel. All of the controls were labelled in the odd vertical letters of the Kilrathi language, which Hunter had never learned to read. But that looks like a joystick, and that’s for air pressure . . . I don’t know what that is but I’m sure I won’t need it, and that looks like an engine power gauge . . . I wonder what that’s witch is next to it?
He pressed it . . .