The saga continues from Logan's Run....
Introduced to my shipmates in the pilots lounge, most of whom were a little green about the gills (oysters, it was, apparently) it wasn't long before I was striding manfully towards the gate, other minions from the flight crew scurrying at my side. My mind mind was firmly focussed on the massively complex and knock-yer-socks off mindblowing task ahead, the crowds that were lining our way cheering, clapping, and throwing their knickers all seeming to be just a blur.
Once established in the office I started going through the absolutely humungous checklist, my fingers lingering over the switches as if I were caressing a lover, trying to imbue every selection with gravity and dignity. In fact I was just playing for time, as truth be told I didn't have the faintest where anything was....
Eventually, the mighty engines shrieked into life, and I went for the thrust reversers.
"What the hell are you doing" my (already) long suffering co-pilot, Brian, wailed...
"Well, er, reversing."
"No, no no no!!! You'll break it! Just press Shift + P and then 1 or 2 for pushback!"
I must have pressed the wrong number because Brian grabbed the controls...but soon we were on our way past all the great scenery at Logan.
I did what I usually do and asked ATC for the pink line, and this time Brian nodded in approval.
"Good call, sir, like a rabbit's warren here."
(I cut the line out of these shots, obviously)
"It's your first time in the Triple Seven, isn't it, sir" said Brian, with an encouraging smile. "Don't worry about the little pushback problem, could happen to anyone."
I gave a weak grin and tried to feel better. The Triple Seven sure was a tricky bird to handle. Soon we were waiting at the end of the runway.
"Pretty lights, these" I ventured, trying to strike up conversation with Brian. I couldn't believe that he was calling me "sir", him a real Triple Seven pilot, and me just a fraud, a sham.
We received the all clear from ATC and edged forward onto the runway. This was it. I felt myself shaking uncontrollably as the engines spooled up....
"Just what is this World's Least Serious Pilots organisation you belong to sir?" he asked.
I couldn't lie to him, but wished I had when I saw his face convulse into a mask of horror.
"Let's go to work." I said, and released the brakes, hitting full power. Man, what a feeling. Just then, we owned the world!!!
Punching into the sky, I whooped with joy, and after the wheels had retracted and we'd established the appropriate noise abatement profile, all the tension left us and the cockpit was full of high fives, back slapping, kidney pummeling, chest beating and so on.
Ohhhh yeeeahhhh!!! What a blast!
Man, the Triple Seven!
3rd Part here...
http://www.simviation.com/cgi-bin/yabb/YaBB.cgi?board=paywareshots;action=displa...Thanks for looking in!
Krigl
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