Of Mail and Wings

by Wiz Ahmad

Aerial Antics

I sat on the bed, thinking over my day and my plans to fix up the home I'd now realized I'd neglected – thanks to Fleetfoot. Without her, the house would likely become even more cluttered and untidy. As I reached for my phone to review and update my notes, the door opened, squeaking on its dry, somewhat rusty hinges.

Fleetfoot stepped in, a pile of clothes draped across her back. "Good morning Brian."

"Good morning Fleety my love," I replied, only to realize the significance of what I'd uttered a split second later. Fleetfoot just smiled at me and handed over my clothes.

"Thanks," I said, taking the pile of clothes from her and setting it down on my bed. "Your wings look a lot better than when I first found you. Think they'll be strong enough for a flapping?"

"Still a bit sore during wingbeats," she muttered. "But at least I can walk now without significant pain."

Good to know, I thought, giving her a little head scratch – which caused her to giggle. We shared a warm hug and headed downstairs for breakfast. Our discussion focused on house cleaning and organization plans, but then Fleetfoot brought forth an odd question.

"So, what's your team's routine for the flight training program today?"

I leaned back in my chair abruptly and my lip twisted slightly in doubt. I didn't anticipate the introduction of this topic. But considering last night's discussion, it was highly plausible. I took a slow, smooth breath and let it all out.

"Today's routine is to learn how to fly in teams, using all the prior knowledge and experience gained from our solo flights."

"I see. Such a shame about Shane's attitude, it'd look odd with only four pilots compared with all the other flight training teams in other bases," she replied with a sneer.

I laughed so hard I almost spat out my oatmeal: for a cute pegasus pony, Fleetfoot had some good humor.

"But, that's his loss," she added with an underlying submissive tone.

I scarfed down the rest of my oatmeal and quickly put the bowl in the sink. Glancing at my watch, I ran back upstairs to change. When I returned, Fleetfoot was lying on the couch, looking rather glum.

"Hey," I said, slinging my duffel over my shoulder. "Watcha say we go out this weekend together to a restaurant?"

Almost instantly her head shot up and her eyes glowed with excitement. "A night out with delicious food? Really?!"

I nodded seriously. "Really. Just you and me, together."

"Thank you so much, Brian!" she replied excitedly, running up and giving me a hug of gratitude. I was beaming with love so much I felt like crying.

"You're most welcome, sweetheart," I replied, giving her a behind-the-ear scratch that she loved. "See you soon."

I opened up the garage door, rolled Whiz out, shut the garage door, and drove off in earnest, feeling confident about my short-term goals.

"Been a while since I've seen you so refreshed," Steve joked. "Your eyes still look slightly baggy. Not much sleep I guess?"

"Yeah," I replied weakly. "Guess I took on a bit too much for my first day back on the mail job."

"You still doing that crappy paper hustle?" another of the pilots interjected.

"I'm actually very good at it, and it pays the bills, so why the heck not," I said with a streak of defense.

"Alright, everyone, in formation and listen up!" Shane's booming instructor voice was back, and I aligned myself properly as soon as he spoke.

"You all have been performing very well in this training course so far," he told us with a strict but pleased face. "Now you shall proceed to the next leg of your mission to become a serving pilot in the U.S. Air Force. Today we will tackle tandem flying, and then a short sequential flying session. You will be tested on flying maneuverability, the knowledge and experience which you have gained prior. Every aspect of it will be of great importance in the major transition. So hop to it, everyone! To your jets, now!"

We'd all each been given code names now for better identification: I was Spinner, Steve was Delta, and Viper and Ace were the other two pilots. This would be our first time flying without our copilots.

"You all know this is as serious as it can get, right boys?" I casually asked my fellow pilots as we walked towards the large main hangar.
"I'm quite excited for this actually," Steve confessed. "Being able to fly independently, yet still be on par with a mate – this should be interesting. Well, except for one who'd normally bring up the rear and patrol, though that one's still missing."

I nodded slightly. Huh. So Shane had failed after all but kept silent about it since none of you decided to ask.

I took one last look at the entrance doors, a weird, random yet blurred thought running briefly through my mind. I tried to catch it, but it sped off with a flash.

I slowly slid into the seat, strapped on my helmet and oxygen mask, plugged in all the required connections, and flipped a few switches. My radio headset crackled with a hint of static, and the bubble canopy slowly lowered down around me, eventually closing with a firm metallic click. A man on the ground below gave me a quick thumbs-up, indicating it was clear for startup to begin.

"Here goes nothing," I whispered, reaching out to the instrument panel. As I started up the engine, my headset crackled again, this time louder.

"Spinner, this is Primary Flight Control," a voice spoke out, loud and clear. "Viper will now depart, followed by Delta, then Ace, then you. Do you copy?"

I groaned. Again, I'd be the last to leave. I didn't really like being last, but at the same time I didn't want to come off as being a boastful leader.

"Copy that, Sir. I hereby await your command."

One by one, each jet left the large hangar one by one, taxiing down the taxi runway, each aircraft a safe distance apart. At last it was my turn.
"Spinner, you are clear to proceed. Over."

"Duty noted, Sir. Proceeding towards taxi runway. Over and out."

The chocks were pulled, causing the aircraft to start to move. I activated the throttle gently, moving the jet forward. Steering with caution, I guided it out of the hangar and down the taxi runway. Whilst I was stationary, I looked around through the canopy. One jet had already taken off, and was eagerly awaiting the arrival of his partner. To bide the time, I sat back and thought deeply over all that I'd learnt – the HMSS, the infrared sensor, the joystick's control buttons – everything. No sooner had my muscles relaxed did my headset crackle again.

"Spinner, the runway is now clear, proceed to prepare for takeoff."

"Roger that."

I slowly turned onto the start of the main runway, aligned myself, then got the green light.

"Spinner, you are clear for takeoff."

Gripping the throttle lever, I smoothly pulled it forward, sending the aircraft forward. I pulled even harder, activating the afterburners and rapidly increasing acceleration as the end of the runway got ever closer. Finally I reached maximum required speed, and gently pulled back on the stick, rising up as I did so. The aircraft continued to gain height. Then I got a rather unusual call in from the intercom.

"How's it going, Brian? Ready to roll?"

I looked over to my right. There, in all his enthusiasm and ego, was Delta, aka Steve, giving me a little wave.

"All clear to begin tandem flight," I responded through my headset, flashing him a thumbs-up. "Sky's clear."

"Then let's do this, baby!" Steve whooped, igniting his throttle.

I fired up the twin turbojets and took off after him, flying offset of his rear left quarter, much like a bird. The key here was to be able to copy each others' moves while still maintaining a safe distance apart.

"Clear for right-hand banking? Over." Steve called out.

I looked ahead and noticed a small hill range up ahead. "All clear, Stevo. Go for it."

He approached the hills until the sky could only just be seen, then made a somewhat sharp right turn, banking at a seventy-degree angle as he did so.

"Whoa!" I gasped as the flight path bars hit an angle of sixty degrees. "This is skeeeee-tchy."

We made a smooth circle, keeping in close proximity, before circling again, only more tightly.

"Up, Brian, up!" Steve ordered, and I pulled back hard on the stick. We climbed up to a good eighteen thousand feet, then began a smooth descent. As we neared our original altitude, Steve started to distance himself more, and I understood his plan before he could even relay it.

"Hey Brian, roll?"

"Roll!" I replied enthusiastically, judging the distance between him and me – and once we were far apart enough, I yanked the joystick sideways, sending the jet in a longitudal spin. Together we spun simultaneously twice, before parting horizontally and banking in opposite directions, before lining up and performing a low pass. Finally, we touched down and returned to base.

"That was an awesome run!" Steve whooped as we made our way across the air field back to the main building for our short reassembly meeting and lunch break.

"It was a great moment indeed," I replied, keeping my enthusiasm at bay.

"Good work on the maneuvers and synchronization," I added, giving him a rather sluggish high-five. "It'll really come in handy for our next flight."

Author's Note:

And finally the Top Gun/Wonderbolts Academy moment has arrived! Took some time for me to get used to writing the action details, and even now I feel like I could add a lot more details. Enjoy anyways

Comments

[Bronycommander]

I did, can't Wait until fleetfoot get's in