Young War-Prince Afran-Higorian-Nairo stood almost casually at the helm of his brand new Model X-26 Andalite Fighter. It was the inaugural flight of Eylana, and he was quite excited to see how the new model would operate in open space; even more so on how she would operate in the heat of battle. Eylana was larger than the Model 25’s and 26’s that had recently been built as they were meant for only two or three Andalites. She, in all her glory, was built to be able to house six Andalites for a much longer amount of time but still have the agility and maneuverability of the small Andalite Fighters. He had anticipated that from how the last War Council had gone he would soon be leaving his beloved home on the Dome Ship QuickHooves to lead a small task force on the heels of the budding Yeerk Empire.
Still, as he stood there leaning more on his back hooves and staring out the viewport, he couldn’t shake the feeling that all that was going on had happened already. It was a strange sense, as if he was remembering a dream that just felt a tad too real for his liking. After a moment of lingering on that thought a little too much, he realized that his Tactical Officer had been speaking to him.
<Hm? Ah, yes.. Run the final systems check.> Afran regained his composure and spoke with the air of confidence that typically inhabited his speech. He had learned early on even as an aristh that confidence was the majority of what separated a leader from his peers. Even imaginary confidence……
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