It was a normal sunset at John F. Kennedy International Airport in New York City. Well, as normal as it could get. Cancellations, late departures, and of course the inevitable bickering between air traffic control and the planes. However, this particular evening would be one to remember. In the control tower, one yellow controller pitty was looking at the screen in front of her. Then a transmission came on her radio. "J.F.K., this is Cossack 2-2-5, over.", the female voice said in a Russian accent. The controller responded, "Copy that, Cossack two-two-five. You are to land on runway 0-4 left." "I copy.", the jet responded. About five minutes later, the controller peered through her binoculars out the window and a saw large jet with six engines, three on each wing. This happened to be the Antonov 225. The jet's body was covered in mostly white paint with a long blue and yellow running down the entire length of her body. Her tail was split into two, making her very distinguishable. A minute later, she landed on the runway assigned to her. Her wings flexed enormously as her thirty-two tires touched down. In the tower, a clocked alarm sounded. "Guess my shift's over for tonight.", the controller said to herself. Another controller came in to take over as she left.

Back on the runway, the jet activated her thrust reversers, making a loud whooshing sound as they slowed her down. She then turned off onto the taxiway, rolling towards the cargo area of the airport. Soon she stopped at one docking gate. Once she did, the large jet shut off her engines and opened her cargo door. Forklifts started driving up the ramp with cargo and loaded it on. "Whew.", she thought to herself, "That was a tiring flight. Even for me!" She chuckled a little, but that was short-lived when she heard thunder rumbling in the distance. She saw large thunderheads loom overhead with lightning flashing a few times. She gasped. "I guess I'll be delayed until the storm passes.", she mumbled with a sigh. Then the clouds started to move overhead and pour the first few raindrops. A few minutes later, the rain came in heavy sheets and the forklifts who were working had to stop loading her. "Let's get out of here!", one of them yelled to the other three. They all drove off to safety as the jet just sat there. Though she didn't mind the storm, she didn't like being left alone like that. "Well, it is unsafe for them.", she said to herself, thought unintentionally out loud. "I hear you.", a male voice replied. The cargo plane looked around startled, looking for the source of the voice.

To her right, she saw a Boeing 777 with the newest livery of American Airlines looking back at her with a smile. "Oh, hello there.", she greeted him with a Russian accent, "I did not see you." The other plane laughed a little. "That's alright.", he replied, "We all talk to ourselves every now and then. May I ask for your name?" "My name is Mriya.", she answered a bit shyly, "But I think you already know that, since those reporters keep following me." "I never really knew that.", the Boeing countered, "I've seen you in pictures, but I never got all the details." "I see.", Mriya responded in understanding. Then she asked, "What is your name?" "Tripp.", the Boeing told her simply. Then the thunder clapped with a loud *BOOOOOOOOOM!* Mriya yelped and rolled back a little, causing her cargo to shift. She started to shake violently as the storm raged. Tripp saw this and immediately tried to comfort her. "It's okay, Mriya.", Tripp told her, "The storm will pass." "Th-th-that's not I'm afraid of.", she said to him in truth, "It brings back…memories." *BOOOOOOOOOOOM!* "AHHHHH!", she screamed. Tripp then saw two tractors next to one of the other gates. "Move her to the largest hangar!", he ordered them. The tractors were dumbfounded. "Do it!" This startled the tractors into action. Soon they coupled up to Mriya and pushed her out.

The next morning, Mriya woke up in the hangar she was put in the night before. As she opened her eyes, the sun's rays pierced through the windows, giving her glistening body a nice orange-yellow glow. *BOOM* She yelped again, but the she saw the large doors open in front of her. She sighed in relief as they opened even wider. Three minutes later, she rolled out of the hangar, her wingtips nearly touching the sides of the metal building. A shadow then loomed to her left side. She looked over to see none other than Tripp looking at her with his hazel eyes. Mriya also gazed at him with striking blue eyes, creating a silence. "Good morning, Mriya.", Tripp greeted her softly. Mriya smiled and nodded, returning the sentiment. He asked her, "Did you sleep well?" Mriya shook her nose a little. "I had a…nightmare.", she replied. "A nightmare?", Tripp asked in worry, "What happened?" It took Mriya a few moments to regain her composure. However she could only say one word. "Buran."

"Buran?", Tripp asked confused. Mriya didn't say anything, leaving Tripp to figure it out. After a few moments of thinking, he realized who she was talking about. He gasped and said, "The Russian space shuttle!" Mriya nodded, and suddenly a tear came down her nose. Tripp saw this, and he tried to calm her down. More tears started to stream down her large nose. Then Tripp said something that really touched her. "Please do not cry. I can help you if you want." As soon as she heard this, Mriya slowly opened her eyes, sniffling a bit. She looked at Tripp in awe. "You know Russian?", she asked him in shock. "Um, yes.", Tripp uneasily replied, keeping his face from blushing and his eyes fixed on the ground, "I've flown into Moscow before and I picked up a little here and there." "Why didn't you speak it earlier?", Mriya inquired. Tripp responded, "You may not believe this, but that didn't cross my mind at the time." "Oh, I see.", Mriya realized in understanding. Then she continued, "Okay, I will open up to you about the thunder." Tripp rolled a little forward, eager to listen to her. Then she finally revealed it.

"That thunder last night sounded exactly like when the hangar collapsed and…killed…Buran. I was there when it happened. The blizzard that day flattened the building, like it was a pancake. He and eight other workers died. The screaming horrified me, and it still does to this day." By the time she was done, Tripp had a sad and sympathetic expression on his face. "That's so…horrible.", he said softly. Mriya closed her eyes and said, "Please don't tell anyone about my fear. I know we've barely met, but I beg you not to." "I swear on my life that no one else will know about it.", Tripp reassured her, "You're a very strong-willed person. You're still here today because you were able to push through those hard times. That's the most best thing about you, Mriya. Like Dusty Crophopper said, you can do more than just what you were built for. I've lost many friends who were always good to me. One of them was Joe, the Pan-Am 747 who collided with a KLM one in the Canary Islands." Mriya gasped. "Oh, Tripp, I'm so sorry to hear that!" Tripp nodded and said, "It's fine. I was young when it happened. I thought he just went away. Five years later I found out the truth. He was a good friend."

"I'm sure he was.", Mriya agreed, "I guess we both know what's like to have someone we loved taken from us." Tripp nodded, and another long silence stood between them. It was broken yet again, but this time by Harland, Tripp's tractor, who came up to the two. "Goooooooood morning Tripp! It's time for your two week long overhaul!", he cheered. "There's a lady here, you know.", Tripp replied with displeasure, "At least be respectful." Harland then took notice of Mriya, her size making it hard not to. "Oh, hello there madam!", Harland greeted her, "Pleasure to meet you. I'm sorry if I interrupted you. My name is Harland! Welcome to New York City!" Mriya stoically replied. "It's very nice to meet you, Harland. My name is Mriya. It's okay if you interrupted us. You may feel free to take Tripp to the hangar. I have to get loaded soon anyway." Tripp's eyes widened, but it was too late. Harland already hooked himself to Tripp's nose gear. He started pulling him away, making Tripp a little mad. As he turned around in the direction of the overhaul hangar, Tripp took one last look at Mriya. The cargo jet took this chance and blew a kiss at him before winking. Tripp smiled and blushed a little as he was towed away from her. Mriya then thought to herself, "He has such a suave voice." Then she looked up at the clouds. She whispered in her native language, "Буран, я хочу, чтобы вы-то спросить вас. Я знаю, что ты бы хотел, чтобы я был счастлив. Может я стараюсь быть в отношениях с кем-то еще? Пожалуйста, дайте мне ответ в ближайшее время."

Mriya finished her prayer and moved on to the loading dock, where she was finally ready to receive her cargo. She opened her door and the forklifts started their jobs, going in and out with various items. The process seemed to last for days, but it was actually finished in about five hours, making her ready for takeoff in the early afternoon. Mriya, was pushed away from the dock by two other tractors. Once she saw completely out, the tractors drove off for more planes to move. She started up each of her six engines and soon started moving on the tarmac under her own power. Ten minutes later she was finally at the end of the runway. Once Mriya got clearance, she immediately spooled up her engines, creating a deafening whine. At full throttle, she released the brakes, accelerating slowly but surely down the runway. At about two hundred miles an hour, her wings started lifting before her nose did. Then her back tires, lost contact with the ground, indicating she was airborne. She retracted her wheels and turned in the direction of her destination and home, Ukraine.

Though her fourteen hour flight was a bit bumpy, she finally made it into Ukrainian airspace. However, Mriya had to be careful due to the ongoing fighting over Crimea. Soon, the main airport in Donetsk was in sight, and landed there, ending her flight. Once Mriya taxied into the gate, she opened her door and workers started their jobs, unloading her. When the processed was finished, she realized it was all parcels and letters. Soon her shift was done for the week, and she rolled to her home hangar at one side of the field. When Mriya got there, she stopped, noticing a parcel in front of her door. Rolling up to it, she saw that it was addressed to her, and that ironically, she delivered it to herself. Mriya opened up the crate gently with her nose, revealing a can of oil with a note attached to the spout. The note was written in red pen and read: "Это для вас, Мрия. Пить его счастьем. -Tripp." Mriya was even more touched by this. She looked up at the sky again. "Спасибо, Буран."

The End

Author's note: The Russian-looking words are actually Ukrainian.