"It's only a computer error."

This was the air fleet that Alisa had become accustomed to since her early days of Saunders, having joined the Air Lift division at the beginning of her first year. She was assigned to a C-5M Super Galaxy, a loadmaster at first. From early on, Alisa possessed a diligence that didn't pass by Kay unnoticed, soon promoting her to be a flight engineer and later to be a co-pilot alongside Naomi. Her friends would later encourage her to join the school's Sensha-Do team. As Alisa has proven herself to be a capable co-pilot, she was immediately granted a commander's position of an M4A1 Sherman on her first day on the team. The vice-captain position was attained not long after.

The Super Galaxy that Alisa was first assigned was the same aircraft she operated to this day. She wouldn't dare even entertain the notion of crewing another plane, such as a Superfortress or Tristar, even though she was more than free to do so and qualified; the Galaxy was the craft for her. Besides, going to another plane would part her from Naomi and sever the wonderful synergy the two fostered in the cockpit.

Four-thirty was when Alisa arrived at the airfield, the activity relatively light as only one plane would be in service today. She briskly walked past the various hangers of the other aircraft, each door locked securely until she reached the one with an enormous aircraft parked several meters in front of its wide-open doors. Alisa saw a tanker truck underneath the wing that faced her with a hose connected to it, along with a small crowd near the front of the machine.

Typical for giant cargo planes of its class, it had bay doors at either end of the aircraft for ease of loading. Her Super Galaxy had both bay doors opened, with the crowd at the front of the plane, its cockpit elevated up in the air. As she neared, Alisa could hear the indistinct sounds of this crowd become discernible words.

"The tires better be filled with nitrogen and not dry air," Naomi told one of the maintainers. "I like nitrogen better and don't think I can't feel the difference."

"They're filled with nitrogen, alright, I'm darn sure of it," the maintainer replied confidently. "Saw the big 'N' label myself."

"And the tires are all at four hundred PSI, yeah?"

"On the dot."

"Well, that's the landing gear taken care of," Naomi said as she checked her clipboard. "What's our fuel load?"

"With your planned distance and weight of your payload taken into account, main tanks one and four filled to capacity. Main tanks two and three, and the auxiliaries, are empty. We can fill them up if you'd like. The tanker is right there."

"Kay's a lenient girl, but even she wouldn't appreciate any plane taking more fuel than what's necessary. What we have is more than good enough."

The maintainer gave a polite nod and departed to tend to her other duties. Naomi flipped through her clipboard for several more moments when Alisa gave a playful tap on her shoulder. She turned to give her a small smile before returning her attention to the clipboard.

"Glad you're here. A part of me thought you'd flake."

"...Flake?" Alisa asked curiously with squinted eyes. "I don't think you're using that word right. Are you calling me a snowflake or something of the sort?"

"It's American slang. If you 'flake', it means you failed to fulfill a commitment."

"That's not me, that's not me!" Alisa exclaimed, stomping her feet on the ground. "I'm one-hundred percent dedicated! My skill as a pilot is unmatched! I'm the best in the whole division!"

"Co-pilot," Naomi corrected. "It takes two to tango when it comes to flying a Super."

"What? What does dancing have to do with flying?"