imnotaprogram started following you
"What city did you say you were from, program?" Ari was military, not stupid, and something about this man's story wasn't adding up.
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@redlinedwings
 imnotaprogram started following you
"What city did you say you were from, program?" Ari was military, not stupid, and something about this man's story wasn't adding up.

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digitalfrxntier started following you
"You're the creator." He didn't phrase it was a question, because it wasn't. He'd seen pictures, seen the face of CLU often enough. Although Kevin's age had confused him for a moment, this was undoubtably the creator. "I thought they'd got you long before I was initialized."
adagio-for-rinzler started following you
"It's all handled, enforcer." Ari retracted his helmet, his face tense. "The rebels here were dealt with."
It hadn't been pretty, especially when he'd gotten his smaller jet shot out from under him. He'd been forced to take on several of the rebels face to face - and while pilots were strong fighters, it wasn't their forte.
"Sorry they had to call you out."
Threads Owed Me:
Since I caught up, I'm making a master list of threads. If you want to drop one, please let me know; if not, here it is for easy access since I'm a derp on this account.
designation-eckert: [x]
profoundly-naive: [x]Â [x]
curioushacker: [x]
aonactivated: [x] -- it's an ask, but you might want to continue it?
errorexecutingfile: [x]
musicxisxmyxforte: [x] -- I know you cleared out your threads, so you've got a free pass to drop this. Just lemme know either way!
theblackguardroz: [x]Â -- again, this is an ask, but I'll list it anyway, in case it interests you.
And that's literally any thread or interaction I've ever had (I think)! Lemme know what's up, guys.
_Meeting the Legend_[closed]
"Sorry, ya caught me in an off moment - Iâm gonna be takinâ off soon." He looked the new arrival over and then grinned. "But hey, Iâve got a moment. Whatâs your designation, program?"
"Eckert." he replied, "And your designation is Ari, correct?"Â
"Who blew my cover?" he joked back, glancing over at another pilot. "It was Connor, wasnât it?â He turned his attention back to Eckert. "Iâm jokinâ. Yeah, Iâm Ari. Youâre not the Eckert, are you? Like the big, you know,â he waved a hand, an all-encompassing gesture, âthe Eckert.â
"That depends on what youâve heard." he gently smiled, softly chuckling at his imitation, "Good things I hope."Â
"Yeah, all good things." Ari grinned and held out a hand to the man. "I mean, you and your siblings - legends, in some ways. Living legends." He grinned cheekily. "And your sister, I mean, thereâs a phase most of the older pilots went through where they were like, so into - yeah, Iâm gonna shut up now.â He laughed, his circuits flickering a little in embarassment.
He had a habit of running his mouth in conversation, and sometimes it bit him in the ass. âBut. seriously, I enjoy what Iâve heard of what you do, - seeing you perform. Itâs a seriously nice diversion.â
"Thatâs wonderful to hear actually," he chuckled, "Well, I wasnât sure that I was included in that category of âlegendâ, especially to be included with my brother and sister. It is much appreciated." Well, that was a first. To be noticed as an important program next to his siblings. The Program cleared his throat and said, âI would like to inquire about the use of a light jet.âÂ
"Yeah, light jets!" Ari chuckled and resumed his former, more settled stance. "I hope you mean use of a light jet and pilot, 'cause we don't let just anyone fly our jets." He put a hand on his hip. "Where do you need to go?"

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OOC
I owe designation-eckert one thread, and then I'm caught up. YAY!
>Test Flight_ | Ari + Red!Q
There came one cycle when CLUâs Project couldnât stand it anymore, and so stole a Medicâs patch when such programs had their backs turned, and fled to the hangar. It was Hell, this; perfection was an empty promise and despite what every beacon said there was no freedom, merely a string of impossible games bent on making her glitch, and a disgusting code that refused to cooperate. The unstable ISO had quickly grown mad in her cage, and in the earliest cycles had tried throwing herself off the Tower, had tried slicing her own throat. She had been caught, each time, he always had eyes on her, an internal distress pingâand had been thrown back into the cell.
She snuck through the halls now, though not with self-deletion in mind. The broken bird merely wanted to fly.
It wasnât so much to ask, was it?
The door was easily hackedâsome sort of lingering skill from the past she couldnât parseâand she stepped inside.
The awe couldnât be helped at the sight, all the red-lined jets suspended from the curved ceiling, high above her, with its orange lights beaming softly down on the sleek lines and curves of the vehicles. And on the ground, across from the Recognizers, were those which she really admired: the larger planes, fitting three programs, five, some maybe more. She had been taken on one in one of her first outside tasks with a Guard Squad, maybe to give her hope of future allowances. She hadnât been in one since.
Standing next to it now, she traced its geometry with those golden-rimmed eyes, admiring every detail that would lift its powerful shell into the air and take her high above the Grid, going so fast that the Capital would be a mere blur of yellows and blues. One-man jets were thrilling, fastâbut to sit in the pilotâs seat of a plane like this, that was power, was it not? That was freedom.
A noiseâ Frag! Someone was at the door, surely pondering over the hacked keypad. She darted behind the plane and crouched low to the ground, focusing on every sound coming from the entrance. She prayed to the Luminary that whoever it was would be kind, at best a Sentry who in his puzzlement she could easily beat into a stall. But knowing her luck, that probably wasnât the caseâŚ
Ari wasnât really paying attention as he moved to key in his code â but something was off, the keyboard had been treated too heavily. He glanced at it for only a moment before inputting his code and moving through the doors almost before they opened.
With the threat of an intruder, all his charm had been dropped in favor of a sharp-eyed, intent look as he strode through the hanger, his disc already in his hand, although his hold was loose. He wasnât looking for a fight so much as he was ready to protect himself from someone who was.
He caught sight of red circuits and wasnât sure if that was calming or not. âExcuse me â miss?â Yes, miss, it was a female who was crouching near one of the jets. âMiss, youâre not allowed to be here ââ
He moved more and more cautiously as he got closer. Something about this program seemed off, in her suit or the way she held herself, he didnât know, but he gave her a tight lipped smile. âIâm really sorry, but you need to go, unless you have reason to be here.â
Like discovering a runaway mutt, the Sentry pilot crept closer and closer to her, pressed back into the shadows. A low snarl stuttered out of her vocal processor, but faded as he started to speak. He was oddly politeâclearly he didnât recognize her, and that medical patch on her scarred arm did well to hide the most obvious fact of all.
Reluctantly she stood, revealing that unique frontal circuitry that ran down the front of her armor in flaring crimson. The ISO looked more annoyed than ashamed, though strangely compliantâshe was just as prepared to kill him where he stood should he drop that tone she knew she didnât deserve. With a quick flutter of her eyes she looked his vessel up and down, locating potential weak spots, filing the face into her system data and finding no prior connection in that jumble of broken memory. She folded her arms with a light sigh and leaned casually against the body of the plane, casting a red glow onto its black shell.
"I was admiring the jet. Isnât that reason enough?"
Ari recognized the circuitry dimly, knew who she had to be. The hair was also unique - no pilot, nor anyone who belonged in the hanger, wore their hair loose. He should probably call the Guards in to remove her, or at least another pilot to back him up. She was sizing him up, for the love of bits.
But she'd said she was admiring the jet, and if there was anything Ari would go loquacious about, it was his jet. At best, keeping her talking would keep her calm; at worst, it gave him a chance to call for help.
"She's a beauty, isn't she?" he said fondly, laying a hand on the jet. "She's a bit of an older model, truth be told. You wouldn't believe the sort of maintenance we go through to keep her flying with the best, but I can't imagine flying with any other jet."
"Sorry, ya caught me in an off moment - Iâm gonna be takinâ off soon." He looked the new arrival over and then grinned. "But hey, Iâve got a moment. Whatâs your designation, program?"
"The Designationâs Tarker." he said, trying to sound confident. It seemed though, that this guy had some ego about him. It deflated Tarker a bit. Or maybe it was the fact that his last flying experiment was still fresh in his processes. "So, uh," he cleared his throat. "Youâre a pilot?"
Ari chuckled and gesured to the jet behind him - a larger model, and meant to be flown with more crew, but able to be staffed by two in a pinch. He was still waiting on the program whoâd be shooting today.
"Yep. One of the best, or so people like to say." He grinned. "And you? Your circuits tell me you donât really belong in a military hanger." He raised an eyebrow.
Was he showing? Spyware, he was showing. Well, sort of. He had been going for more of a look of a sentry, but he ended up with something different. Still looked red though. âUm, yeah. Iâm more administration. File management kinda thing. I got turned around, itâs my first cycle at this facility. Can you point me to the stacks?â
"The stacks?" Ari laughed and clapped a hand on the kidâs shoulder, turning them as he spoke. "You were looking for stacks and you wound up in the hanger? Just how bad were your directions?" He pointed. "That hallway, down at the end, I think. Then you take a right, a left, and two more rights, and I think thatâs stacks.â He paused, a look of concentration on his face as he mentally calculated the route. âOr, I could just take you. Iâm on duty, but itâs not a big deal.â
Tarker memorized the route he had given him. Sweet. Someone just told him EXACTLY how to get to the Occupationâs archive stacks.
"Nah, I got it. Thanks for the help. Maybe sometime you could take me for a ride in your jet?"
"Hey, if you ever need a ride, absolutely." Ari grinned cheerfully. "'course, you probably need to go through my superiors for that. They don't like us taking joyrides, but they absolutely forbid us taking passengers on them."
OOC
I think I need to change Ari's FC, or at least pick a secondary one for threads. I'm looking for an actor who sorta looks like Mikey Way, with that air of "cheerful, well-mannered asshole" about him, and is preferably blonde. Anyone got any suggestions?
Quorraâs eyes widened. She had seen the city from up high, from bridges and rooftops, but to really be above it, and to see all those lights in such a way⌠It seemed like a dream. She couldnât stop this expression but instantly regretted it. This program was enjoying her company, and too much for her liking.Â
"Whâwith you? Oh, I couldnât possiblyâIâd get in the way of your functions!" She laughed bashfully, though inside she was terribly uneasy. Why the Occupation, why was every move made with a risk of getting yourself in trouble? Oh for the cycles when the ISO would be able to say yes!âand hop on a plane, to see the Grid in the best way, and not in the midst of being shot down by enemy fire. But this was no such cycle, and the symbol hidden beneath her jacket quickened its anxious pulse.
She took a step back and looked away from him at the Occupied park. Only a few programs were about, walking along its outskirts, and even then, the patrol guards were prodding at them to stay out of restricted areas. âI should let you get back to the flight. I donât want to give you any trouble, Sir.â A quick glance given back from under her hood, feigning some sort of respect for him. It made her sick. But better that than a disc to the face.Â
âAh, câmon, like I canât work around a passenger?â He gave her a rakish grin. âYou should see some of the sentries I have to fly places, they always want to touch everything. Youâre smarter than that, at least.â He looked at her in mock worry, playing the game to see if sheâd come out of her shyness. A well-intentioned, and yet foolhardy, move. âYou are smarter than that, arenât you?â He gave her a small smile.
He didnât move to follow her when she backed away; Ari was smart enough to know heâd crossed a line. He dropped his arm, making himself less threatening as best he could, and nodded a bit. âYeah, alright.â Idiot, donât just leave it with that. âLook, in all seriousness, if you ever want to go on a flight â or just spend some time with the planes â you can hunt me down.â He grinned a little. âOpen invitation.â
He didnât seem nearly as dangerous as he probably was, and that had her system completely confusedâand what was more frustrating, willing to trust this pilot, despite who she was. It couldnât be so dangerous, just one flight? No one needed to knowâŚ
That shy, fake smile returned, as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. âI may just do that.â And she started to turn away, when she realized a critical detail, if she did intend on finding him again.
"Oh! I never got your designation!" She returned to him, leaning forward on the low wall that separated them, and granted him a daring smirk. "Canât hunt you down if I donât know your name."
Ari smiled in return, relief clear in his features as she gave him some leeway. She wasn't condemning him, then, and that was good.
Her change in manner earned her a raise of his eyebrows, and a rather wolfish smirk in return. "I go by Ari, but if you ask for Pilot 0124 people will point you towards me. And you're Quorra, yeah? If I need to ask who's calling?"

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"I am in need of an aircraft, and it seems your the Program to talk to."
"One of, yeah." Ari grinned and held out a hand. âPilot 0124 at your service.â Then he looked slyly at her. âBut you can call me Ari, if you prefer. Where do you wanna go?â
His head raised to regard the new company, though it wasnât for any polite reason. Rather, he opted to take the drink sitting half empty before him, if not to make the pilotâs voice more tolerable.Â
"Glitches are for the imperfect," he spat with a very obvious tone of sarcasm. The drink was drawn lazily to his lips, sipped at idly, and pulled away just enough to continue speakingâ no matter the secret irony to that statement. "No one needs you to haul them around?"
"Everyone glitches," Ari commented with a shrug, thanking the bartender as a drink was put in front of him. "Anyone who says differently is selling something." He took a sip of his drink, glanced at the Guard. "And no, surprisingly. Itâs my downcycle, and they donât work us too far overtime. Something about a spiral of flaming death from above," he laughed, âcaused by tired, overworked pilots, doesnât appeal to CLU.â
The pilot was given a lazy chuckle, apparently for the commentary, but truly he painted that picture in his mind, of half deteriorating, flaming code barreling into onlooking programs belowâŚPicture perfect imagery.Â
"I didnât realize he was concerned with your well-being, or casualties for that matter," he answered bitterly, lips meeting the surface of glowing, blue elixir. He downed the drink until it was emptied, and then returned the glass down to the counter while he leaned back into the bar stool, arm draped over its curved back. His head tilted, brows even and eyelids lowered halfway over his colorless, tired stare.Â
"You know the Admins are considering an upgrade for sentries - flight capability. Wouldnât that make you purposeless since the Guard already know how to operate jets?"Â
âOur Luminary has always been a good commander, at least to us,â Ari replied neutrally. âAnd he at least wants to keep programs alive, although you can debate motives all cycle.â He dared to add, âPersonally, I think heâs just doing what any good leader does. Looking out for the people.â
He leaned back a little when Ozias commended on the potential sentry-pilots, but aside from a raised eyebrow, didnât react much. âThereâs a vast difference between knowing how to fly and being coded to fly.â He chuckled. âNo offense, but Iâve seen some Guards flying. I havenât made some of those mistakes since I was freshly rezzed.â He chuckled. âAnd if thatâs the Elite, Iâd hate to be in the air when sentries fly.â
"Sorry, ya caught me in an off moment - Iâm gonna be takinâ off soon." He looked the new arrival over and then grinned. "But hey, Iâve got a moment. Whatâs your designation, program?"
"Eckert." he replied, "And your designation is Ari, correct?"Â
"Who blew my cover?" he joked back, glancing over at another pilot. "It was Connor, wasnât it?â He turned his attention back to Eckert. "Iâm jokinâ. Yeah, Iâm Ari. Youâre not the Eckert, are you? Like the big, you know,â he waved a hand, an all-encompassing gesture, âthe Eckert.â
"That depends on what youâve heard." he gently smiled, softly chuckling at his imitation, "Good things I hope."Â
"Yeah, all good things." Ari grinned and held out a hand to the man. "I mean, you and your siblings - legends, in some ways. Living legends." He grinned cheekily. "And your sister, I mean, there's a phase most of the older pilots went through where they were like, so into - yeah, I'm gonna shut up now." He laughed, his circuits flickering a little in embarassment.
He had a habit of running his mouth in conversation, and sometimes it bit him in the ass. "But. seriously, I enjoy what I've heard of what you do, - seeing you perform. It's a seriously nice diversion."
Ari grinned and took a step closer. The woman was pretty, and he never passed up a chance to speak with pretty girls - unluckily for the ISO in disguise. She seemed quite entranced by the jet, and Ari was okay with that - partially because one of the benefits of being a pilot (as some said) was that the girls loved jets, but also because Ari loved the jet himself. Flying was in his programming, after all.
"Quorra." He gave her a charming grin. "Pretty designation." The compliment to his vehicle made him chuckle, and he mimicked her gesture. "Sheâs one of the newer models, actually. Weâre mostly gonna be test flying her today, target practice and stuff." Or at least, that was the story being given to civilians. "She handles nicely, though, so we should be fine." He flashed her another quick grin. "So, Quorra, are you just here to admire the jets, or were you looking for something else?â
Oh no. Had he figured her out that quickly? True she hadnât done anything wrong yet, but she had had the full intention of getting a closer look at that jetâand closer meant climbing inside it. Sometimes her curiosity simply knew no bounds.
She folded her arms in an attempt to look casual, as casual as one could in front of a Red-circuit. But judging by the ease in his own posture, she dared to follow it. A charming laugh escaped her and she looked away, feigning coyness at his remark. Inside she was cringing with anxiety, but she assured herself that the exchange would be over soon. Heâd go about his functions and forget about her, surely.
"Honestly," she started, cocking her head bashfully as she looked back to him, "I was imagining what itâd be like to fly in one of them. It must be wonderful, to see the city from that high up." Well, it was still the truth. Basics could still imagine, right?
Ari grinned an leaned against the jet casually, his elbow pressed against the side level with his shoulder, and his whole body relaxed. This basic - Quorra - was interesting enough to spend some time here, rather than attending to his functions. Not that Ari was particularly neurotic about those.
Her remark made him grin wider. âItâs amazing. Seriously, thereâs nothing better than being up in the air, looking down on the city - the lightlines of it are - wow.â He gestured vaguely with his hand. âAnd the major highways between towns, there a sight. The lights are just dots along the strip from that high up.â He gave her a cheeky grin. âYou should come on a flight sometime.â
Quorraâs eyes widened. She had seen the city from up high, from bridges and rooftops, but to really be above it, and to see all those lights in such a way⌠It seemed like a dream. She couldnât stop this expression but instantly regretted it. This program was enjoying her company, and too much for her liking.Â
"Whâwith you? Oh, I couldnât possiblyâIâd get in the way of your functions!" She laughed bashfully, though inside she was terribly uneasy. Why the Occupation, why was every move made with a risk of getting yourself in trouble? Oh for the cycles when the ISO would be able to say yes!âand hop on a plane, to see the Grid in the best way, and not in the midst of being shot down by enemy fire. But this was no such cycle, and the symbol hidden beneath her jacket quickened its anxious pulse.
She took a step back and looked away from him at the Occupied park. Only a few programs were about, walking along its outskirts, and even then, the patrol guards were prodding at them to stay out of restricted areas. âI should let you get back to the flight. I donât want to give you any trouble, Sir.â A quick glance given back from under her hood, feigning some sort of respect for him. It made her sick. But better that than a disc to the face.Â
âAh, câmon, like I canât work around a passenger?â He gave her a rakish grin. âYou should see some of the sentries I have to fly places, they always want to touch everything. Youâre smarter than that, at least.â He looked at her in mock worry, playing the game to see if sheâd come out of her shyness. A well-intentioned, and yet foolhardy, move. âYou are smarter than that, arenât you?â He gave her a small smile.
He didnât move to follow her when she backed away; Ari was smart enough to know heâd crossed a line. He dropped his arm, making himself less threatening as best he could, and nodded a bit. âYeah, alright.â Idiot, donât just leave it with that. âLook, in all seriousness, if you ever want to go on a flight â or just spend some time with the planes â you can hunt me down.â He grinned a little. âOpen invitation.â
>Test Flight_ | Ari + Red!Q
There came one cycle when CLUâs Project couldnât stand it anymore, and so stole a Medicâs patch when such programs had their backs turned, and fled to the hangar. It was Hell, this; perfection was an empty promise and despite what every beacon said there was no freedom, merely a string of impossible games bent on making her glitch, and a disgusting code that refused to cooperate. The unstable ISO had quickly grown mad in her cage, and in the earliest cycles had tried throwing herself off the Tower, had tried slicing her own throat. She had been caught, each time, he always had eyes on her, an internal distress pingâand had been thrown back into the cell.
She snuck through the halls now, though not with self-deletion in mind. The broken bird merely wanted to fly.
It wasnât so much to ask, was it?
The door was easily hackedâsome sort of lingering skill from the past she couldnât parseâand she stepped inside.
The awe couldnât be helped at the sight, all the red-lined jets suspended from the curved ceiling, high above her, with its orange lights beaming softly down on the sleek lines and curves of the vehicles. And on the ground, across from the Recognizers, were those which she really admired: the larger planes, fitting three programs, five, some maybe more. She had been taken on one in one of her first outside tasks with a Guard Squad, maybe to give her hope of future allowances. She hadnât been in one since.
Standing next to it now, she traced its geometry with those golden-rimmed eyes, admiring every detail that would lift its powerful shell into the air and take her high above the Grid, going so fast that the Capital would be a mere blur of yellows and blues. One-man jets were thrilling, fastâbut to sit in the pilotâs seat of a plane like this, that was power, was it not? That was freedom.
A noiseâ Frag! Someone was at the door, surely pondering over the hacked keypad. She darted behind the plane and crouched low to the ground, focusing on every sound coming from the entrance. She prayed to the Luminary that whoever it was would be kind, at best a Sentry who in his puzzlement she could easily beat into a stall. But knowing her luck, that probably wasnât the caseâŚ
Ari wasnât really paying attention as he moved to key in his code â but something was off, the keyboard had been treated too heavily. He glanced at it for only a moment before inputting his code and moving through the doors almost before they opened.
With the threat of an intruder, all his charm had been dropped in favor of a sharp-eyed, intent look as he strode through the hanger, his disc already in his hand, although his hold was loose. He wasnât looking for a fight so much as he was ready to protect himself from someone who was.
He caught sight of red circuits and wasnât sure if that was calming or not. âExcuse me â miss?â Yes, miss, it was a female who was crouching near one of the jets. âMiss, youâre not allowed to be here ââ
He moved more and more cautiously as he got closer. Something about this program seemed off, in her suit or the way she held herself, he didnât know, but he gave her a tight lipped smile. âIâm really sorry, but you need to go, unless you have reason to be here.â

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"Sorry, ya caught me in an off moment - Iâm gonna be takinâ off soon." He looked the new arrival over and then grinned. "But hey, Iâve got a moment. Whatâs your designation, program?"
"The Designationâs Tarker." he said, trying to sound confident. It seemed though, that this guy had some ego about him. It deflated Tarker a bit. Or maybe it was the fact that his last flying experiment was still fresh in his processes. "So, uh," he cleared his throat. "Youâre a pilot?"
Ari chuckled and gesured to the jet behind him - a larger model, and meant to be flown with more crew, but able to be staffed by two in a pinch. He was still waiting on the program whoâd be shooting today.
"Yep. One of the best, or so people like to say." He grinned. "And you? Your circuits tell me you donât really belong in a military hanger." He raised an eyebrow.
Was he showing? Spyware, he was showing. Well, sort of. He had been going for more of a look of a sentry, but he ended up with something different. Still looked red though. âUm, yeah. Iâm more administration. File management kinda thing. I got turned around, itâs my first cycle at this facility. Can you point me to the stacks?â
"The stacks?" Ari laughed and clapped a hand on the kid's shoulder, turning them as he spoke. "You were looking for stacks and you wound up in the hanger? Just how bad were your directions?" He pointed. "That hallway, down at the end, I think. Then you take a right, a left, and two more rights, and I think that's stacks." He paused, a look of concentration on his face as he mentally calculated the route. "Or, I could just take you. I'm on duty, but it's not a big deal."
"To be quite honestâŚ" his head lowered onto the table between his folded arms. "I really just donât feel like doing anything.â
"Really? The Elite are off game now? Whoâs gonna conver us here on the ground?" Ari sat next to the guard, nodding to the bartender before returning his attention to the program next to him, concern showing in his features. "You okay, man? Youâre not glitching, or anything?" From anyone else, the question might have been an attack, an attempt to figure out Oziasâs weak spots, but Ari was clearly just concerned for his fellow program.
His head raised to regard the new company, though it wasnât for any polite reason. Rather, he opted to take the drink sitting half empty before him, if not to make the pilotâs voice more tolerable.Â
"Glitches are for the imperfect," he spat with a very obvious tone of sarcasm. The drink was drawn lazily to his lips, sipped at idly, and pulled away just enough to continue speakingâ no matter the secret irony to that statement. "No one needs you to haul them around?"
"Everyone glitches," Ari commented with a shrug, thanking the bartender as a drink was put in front of him. "Anyone who says differently is selling something." He took a sip of his drink, glanced at the Guard. "And no, surprisingly. It's my downcycle, and they don't work us too far overtime. Something about a spiral of flaming death from above," he laughed, "caused by tired, overworked pilots, doesn't appeal to CLU."