Snippet #2040233

The fleeing pirates had several kilometers' worth of lead on her Rapier, and while that normally wouldnt be enough distance to outrun the Federation fighter, it is just enough distance to make Hyena doubt. With no noise but her humming engines, it's enough time for the killing rush to cool, and for the niggling little thought to wriggle in that her six was hanging out in open space with no one to cover it. Much farther, and she'd be too far to even run back into the safety of the Salient's range if she got into trouble. Not even the temptation of more 'fun' mixing it up in another dogfight is enough to dismiss that threat, and reluctantly Hyena eases the throttle back from its stops.

In the hangar, the fighter pilot helmet and flightsuit that Tiaan adresses turns around, and it's not Hyena; just some other shmuck who looks vaguely confused when she calls him a flygirl. What, single-seat pilots all look alike to you or somethin? Trollolol.

The flickering red marks on her scopes reach the edge of her range and blink out of contact, and she shows the Rapier's wings in a wide turn back towards the Salient and its waiting hangar.

"Salient Control, Rapier 338, hostiles are no-factor." She reports glumly, "Do you want me to maintain a patrol until the civies get their escort or head back to the barn?"

Taking the time to run a functionality check in the meantime, Hyena is pleased that her craft is still in fighting shape after a furball like that. It'd gotten hairy quick when Tiaan had sent an out-of-control pirate in her direction, but the timely call for evasive maneuvers had really saved her ass from becomming a victim of fratricide. Not that her shoulder appreciated the harness digging into it during the sharp snap she'd had to execute, but that was a small price to pay for still feeling at all.

Life was remarkably fragile in the void, especially for such a small craft as a fighter. The whole cockpit compartment was a titanium and transparasteel bathtub, but if that tenuous sanctuary was breached, she'd be sitting in ice-cold space with only the discomfortingly thin fabric of her flightsuit between her and vaccuum. If -that- had even the smallest failure... Well, they say it lasted just long enough for you to feel it. Still, all of the above was prefferable to having some vital system punctured, leaving her spiraling - but alive - out into the endless black. Waiting for her air to run out seemed like pretty much the shittiest way to go, and as an afterthought Hyena makes a note to see the armory; it might be worth bringing along a pistol for just such an occasion...

With a quick shake, she disperses the last vestiges of adrenaline along with those gloomy thoughts, returning to basking in a pleased post-combat glow while she awaits a response.