"Done," replies the rigger. "No joy, we’re close enough, and that beam’s beefy enough that they already have a skin-paint on us." The bank gets suddenly steeper, and the engines howl as the rigger cracks the throttles wide open. She’s diving, too, probably to pick up speed faster or to get under the radar (if that’s still relevant these days). The camera loses lock and Argent’s display goes dead, but at the moment nobody gives a frag.