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The differences between his ship and the rest were not lost on Sarita. Leaders often felt the need to distinguish themselves as much as possible, so her thinking went, and from the paint on the wings to the idiosyncratic interior design, Cobra's fighter screamed 'special'. As for his correction, well...
“Ah. Excellent imitation, then.” Doing her best to suppress a sheepish look—as if it mattered much with her breather mask covering her mouth—she slid into the cockpit, resting one hand on her lap and raising her other to gently hover in front of the afterburner switch. While the fighter was entirely powered down, she still hesitated, perhaps out of uncertainty but more likely out of manners. “May I?” she inquired, peering down at Cobra.
Cobra nodded wordlessly, watching Sarita with amusement. Even the genefreaks had these human tendencies in them.
This final approval given, the mercenary's professional veneer finally cracked, and the genuine excitement of a gearhead presented with a unique machine took over, even if only partially and briefly. She flicked the afterburner switch to the 'on' position gingerly. Then off, then on again. Smooth, just enough resistance to give adequate tactile feedback, easy to build a reflex for. Ditto dials—gentle ticks at regular intervals, yet somehow it felt smooth, an uninterrupted gradient. The left and right panels were swapped from what Sarita was used to, but such alterations weren't uncommon, hell, her second Dagger she flew as a novice was like that. Stick not too far out, even with the non-adjustable seat and Cobra's arms being longer than hers, she could work with all of this...
Sarita blinked. It had been a full two minutes she'd been fiddling with inputs, or just sitting in silence, letting it all soak in. She closed her eyes, let her hands do the work for her, returning every moving part to its original position. Without opening her eyes, she jumped out of the fighter and landed upon the hangar bay floor on both feet. She took a breath and opened her eyes, quickly scanning until she found Cobra.
“It's not bad,” she said with a pleased tone in her voice. Sarita was only one Outcast, not the entire Maltese nation, but she certainly had a natural understanding of ships.
