X marks the cockpit, and a fistful of quality-of-life 275a571

A pilot request, granted on the spot: X snaps you straight back to the cockpit from any camera — chase, orbit, tower — without cycling the whole carousel with V. The two keys sit side by side for a reason: V wanders out, X comes home. The flight manual says so, in writing.

Radar range now steps the way a pilot actually fights: it starts wide at 40 miles and each tap of R tightens the noose — 40, 10, 2, and back around to 40. Fuel burn has been halved again, roughly doubling your legs: loiter far, chase long, and still make the deck with something in the tanks. And when it all goes wrong — crash or eject — there’s no paperwork anymore: the wreck settles, your best score is banked, and you’re back at the menu ready to launch the next one.

Also aboard: a console chirp when you pause or call up the menu, so the bay answers when you ask it to hold — and the aircraft gallery swells to eight, with all four airliners in their house liveries, so you can get a proper look at the traffic before you try very hard not to shoot it.