What’s the closest you’ve ever stood to a military-grade drone? Not a consumer quadcopter, but a weapon capable of carrying warheads to destroy bridges, tanks, or buildings? While many have seen such drones on the news or followed the evolving drone warfare in Ukraine—where new hacks emerge every six weeks—it wasn’t until standing before the Fury, an autonomous plane designed to fly alongside F-16s and other jets, that the reality of a Terminator-era battlefield truly hit home.
The Fury’s design is unsettling, resembling a deep-sea predator that has adapted to the skies. It’s hard not to feel a mix of fear and unease when looking at it. Yet, despite reservations about military spending and hopes for a peaceful world, there’s a sense of relief knowing such technology exists—and can be deployed—on the right side. Of course, that comes at a cost.
Standing beside Jen Bucci, the leather-jacket-clad head of design at Anduril, America’s fastest-growing defense startup, I toured the company’s showroom. The space resembles a high-tech Costco: unadorned concrete floors, stockpiles of products like underwater missiles, autonomous submarine motherships, and vertical-launch drones—all designed for bulk sales. Our destination was the design lab, where Bucci’s team of 50 designers shape everything from weapon aesthetics to marketing strategies.
As the first journalist invited inside, it was clear Anduril isn’t a traditional defense contractor. Founded in 2017 by technologists Palmer Luckey, Brian Schimpf, Trae Stephens, Matt Grimm, and Joseph Chen, the company has deep ties to Palantir, the secretive surveillance software firm that powers U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement’s ImmigrationOS software.
Unlike legacy defense giants like Northrop Grumman, Boeing, and Lockheed Martin, which rely on massive government contracts, Anduril operates like a product company. It invests hundreds of millions of its own capital to develop and acquire interoperable, often autonomous systems, betting the government won’t be able to resist adopting them.
The showroom embodies this vision. Each weapon is painted in uniform gunmetal tones accented with Chrysler’s “national safety yellow”—a color chosen for visibility and a sleek, modern appeal reminiscent of Nike’s branding. A consistent machined curve ties the products together. As I examined a 13-foot Copperhead underwater missile in one corner, it was clear how seamlessly it could integrate into existing military frameworks.