Learning to Fly (Oneshot)

Learning to Fly

Upon arrival, he stared longingly at the closed door and with a simple push of a button, the threshold parted. Inside the vast space, several workbenches clung to the wall and were accompanied by numerous tool boxes of different sizes and colors. Tails' eyes passed these items however, and instead settled upon a large blue tarp that covered his most prized possession.

His footsteps reverberated off the walls when he stepped into the garage and his deep blue eyes didn't dare depart from the hangar's centerpiece. The plastic tarp crumpled in his grip and each crinkle caused Tails' ears to twitch in nearly unbearable anticipation.

Starting with a strong yank, the tarp came loose and Tails walked backward, taking the covering with him every step of the way. When it ultimately fell to the ground, the rush of air kicked up a layer of dust and Tails' gaze rose to the newly exposed biplane.

The glossy blue paint shimmered with pride under the dim lights. Jumping out from the azure wash, with a bright yellow finish was the plane's moniker. The letters were elegantly drawn out and reflected the same craftmanship that had built the aircraft. Displaying her name proudly for all to see, was the Tornado II.

The fox couldn't help but freeze at the magnificent sight. It was as if he was staring at an old friend that he hadn't seen in years. A wave of bashfulness washed over his body when he stepped forward. The machine, though silent, somehow reciprocated his affection when he gently placed his hand against the body.

"I've missed you, old friend," Tails whispered and his eyes glanced over the sapphire finish. Keeping his fingertips against the surface of the aircraft, Tails worked his way around the machine, inspecting every panel, every rivet, every bolt, every nook and cranny.

When he made his way to the front of the plane, he gingerly scrutinized the propellor and engine compartment. After several minutes, Tails was certain that the Tornado II was indeed ready to fly.

The fox began to twirl his tails and slowly ascended to the cockpit. When he dropped himself in, he couldn't keep from asking not only the plane, but himself as well, "You ready for this?"

With the turn of a key, Tails received his answer. The engine roared to life and the propellor slowly began to turn. His gaze followed the yellow tip of the aircrew around and around until it was nothing but a blur and his smile only grew wider. Tails rolled his shoulders and slowly stretched his neck before taking hold of his headset.

The deafening roar of the plane quickly became a pleasant purr when the muffs slipped over his ears, and he could hear the shakiness of his own breath when he pulled the microphone into position. A comforting warmth spread throughout his chest when he looked over the various gauges and instruments. He fell into a deep peace that he hadn't felt in a long time. It was almost as if he'd returned home from a long and exhaustive journey.

Tails' hands gently gripped the yoke and maneuvered the device in several directions, while simultaneously checking the flaps and ailerons. Below the dashboard, his feet found a pair of pedals, and similar to before, he watched the tail rotor swing back and forth at his command. Finally, with a flip of a switch, a backlight breathed new life into the various altimeters and gauges. The wing mounted strobes began to flash as well, indicating the aircraft's preparation and anticipation of flight.

"Tower, this is Tornado Two, preflight checklist is complete, ready for taxi," Tails announced into the mouthpiece. His hand quickly found the break release, while his other cradled the throttle as he waited for a response.

Only seconds passed before a vaguely familiar voice filled his ears, "Tower copies. Proceed to runway niner-lima-two-seven-Romeo. Stand by for flight check."