As a retired carrier, I was different from other ships. The battleships loved to make fun of the planes I carried. The destroyers and cruisers relentlessly teased them. To my escorts, they were nuisances better suited for the Air Force but to me, they were family. I hadn't carried a plane since the day of my decommissioning. Not to say I wasn't happy being a museum for I was. It was an easy, leisurely life. One I knew I had earned. But there were days I missed my time in the service. I never considered the possibility that even being a museum could be exciting.

...

JANUARY 15, 2009

My hull was stiff from the recent renovations done and my propellers still stung from where they'd been stuck in the Hudson mud. The afternoon sun, poking through the clouds, helped soothe the dull ache. I tilted my bow, side to side to help ease a crick that had been developing in the back of my neck. It'd been bothering me all day. I rarely got cricks. It was something that had happened to me only just before an important event. Missouri used to tease me saying I had a better way of communication with the Ancients than she did. In hindsight, I can't help but wonder if she might have been correct.

I never heard him coming. As both his engines were shut down, he made no noise. The first thing I heard were rotors of a low flying helicopter. It was a tourist chopper so I wasn't concerned. If people wanted to get up close and personal with New York for some photo ops that was their business. But it was the look on the chopper's face that did make me give a second glance. It was female and she had her eyes intently focused on something off her starboard flank, somewhere where I couldn't see. And she looked concerned, very concerned. She was too high above me for me to hear anything she was saying but it was clear she was in contact with someone. Not a half minute later I heard it. The unmistakable sound of something hitting the water at high speeds. My first thought was a speedboat as they make a similar noise whenever their hulls slap against the waves. But there was no roar of an engine, all was silent. Deciding to satisfy my own curiosity I turned around and was appalled by what I saw.

I could see a white head with a rounded nose facing me. A pair of forward facing blue eyes were tearing about widely at the environment around them. A pink tongue stuck out the right side of the creature's mouth, indicating its exhaustion. Unfamiliar to some, but unmistakable to me. I knew a jet when I saw one unlike most ships and this one had crashed not a half mile from me. Instinct took over from that point on. As a carrier, I was born with the ingrained desire to protect any and all friendly aircraft I came in contact with and to fight those that were not so friendly. This instinct came to the forefront and whipping my bow back towards shore and bit hard into the thick steel cable holding me to the dock. If I was a battleship, I could break through it no problem but carriers lacked the sharp fangs of the more heavily armed warships and thus we had our limitations. Instead, I was able to use sheer muscle and pull it loose, taking part of the dock post with it as it came undone. Once my bow was free, the remaining four lines were child's play. Pivoting on the fourth stern line, I swung my bow around towards open water. It would take several minutes before I could get my engines running and that line was the only thing holding me in position. I prayed it would hold. If it snapped, I could be carried away downstream or right into the aircraft I was trying to rescue.

Stretching my bow out, I reached the plane and touched my nose to his back. He jumped a bit at the contact and his blue eyes snapped up to look at me. He was an Airbus, I could see that from the similarities he shared with the Boeing 767 except for the triangle tip to his wings. He also had a small groove on his tail for which the tip of the tail stand could hook onto. He was frightened obviously as any aircraft would be in his situation so I opted to be as gentle as I could. I began licking behind his head in a soothing manner. "What's your name?" I asked him. "US Airways Flight 1549. Registration: N106US out of LaGaurdia." He replied. "I prefer Suevar." I turned my attention to one of his engines. His port engine was missing but his starboard remained intact if not missing most of its nacelle. I noticed feathers sticking out of it. "Bird strike?" I asked. He nodded. "Canadian Geese. Both engines shut down." He grimaced, a sharp intake of breath the first indication of his pain. "Okay, what other damage do you have?" I asked, keeping my voice as calm as ever. It wouldn't do either of us any good if I panicked now though I was more than a bit concerned by the growing red stain on the water. "B-breech in the tail." He gasped. "Taking on water. Vents not closed." Now at this my breath noticeably hitched. An Airbus has vents on its sides which close in the event of a water landing but only after the pilots hit the ditching switch above their heads. When the birdstrike occurred, the pilots were too busy going through the restart checklist to hit that switch. A checklist designed for 35000 feet, not 3000. "How are your fuel tanks holding up?" I asked. Though a fire hazard was the last concern I had, I most certainly didn't want thousands of pounds of jet fuel to clean up out of the river. "They're sealed tight." He replied. "Good, good." I moved alongside him and took on the passengers from the life rafts. All 155 people had survived.

"It's a miracle." Suevar murmured. "A Miracle of the Hudson." I said nothing out loud though sent a prayer of thanks to the Ancients and the Stargazers, the plane's afterlife, for ensuring this miracle. Once everyone was on board, I turned my attention back to my companion. Suevar couldn't remain afloat on his own for long. He was taking on too much water. I knew he'd be a shipping hazard if he sank, and I knew the unused fuel in his tanks, sealed or not, would pose a serious environmental hazard but neither was on my mind as I grabbed him behind the wings and dragged him alongside me towards the shore. I nudged him onto the dock I tied up to and now could see the full extent of his injuries.

Both his engines were badly shot up, metal parts and bird remains everywhere. The underside of his tail just before the stabilizer was sliced open from the impact with the water and was bleeding badly. I at once began to lick clean the wound while he started on the wounds on his wings. Once I'd licked his tail wound clean I worked on what remained of his port engine and he worked on starboard. Once finished I knew my next priority was to keep him warm. Aircraft were typically well insulated from the cold as they worked at high altitudes of 30,000 feet or more. But this was only when their engines were running and they were at a speed of near Mach 1. On the ground, without the heating effect of an engine, hypothermia was a real concern. I began licking and rubbing him all across his back to help increase circulation. But despite my best efforts his shivers grew more intense and his teeth chattered. Eventually they ceased all together and he began to go into shock. I did my best to keep him awake as paramedics helped his 155 passengers and crew.

I wove some thermal blankets together and placed them over him to help trap whatever heat his body generated. I used my own bulk to block the prevailing winds blowing in off the water. Finally, I placed a cup of hot coffee down in front of him. The one thing about Airbuses, they had a notorious weakness for caffeine. The breed's wide capillaries meant that any stimulant they consumed would result in a quicker bodily response. The same was said for depressants. I did add a bit of brandy to the cup to help warm him and he must've tasted the odd flavor for he shot me a suspicious look. But he did drink it all so I had to give him good patient points for that. I'd cared for plenty of aircraft in my time, from the planes that sunk Musashi to the aircraft that were shot down over Vietnam, but none included a civilian airliner and most certainly not an airbus. I needed some more information and called up a technician I knew at LaGaurdia. "Did you give him coffee?" He asked. "And I wrapped him in thermal blankets. He's in my lee now." I replied. "Good, you're going to need to either find a way to get the fuel flowing through his lines or give him some calorie rich food. He'll need something to sustain his shivers until his core temperature returns to normal." He said. "Understood." I knew that restarting the engines was out of the question but I might be able to bypass the turbines and have the fuel flow in a closed system around the body, as it did when the Airbus was on the ground. I'd done this many times with my own aircraft after missions but never with a plane as large as this. It was going to take all of my skill.

"I'm going to bypass your engines, you understand?" I asked. Meekly, Suevar nodded. "Y-yes Intrepid." He whimpered, readying himself. I did the port engine first, finding the lines that went into the engine. I removed the clamp on the adjacent lines and put it on the fuel lines into the engine, diverting the fuel around the turbine for that side. I did the same on his starboard side. The jet fuel was well insulated in the tanks and its heat traveled throughout his body. There was one problem and it was one that I had at least half expected. I'd seen it before on some of my own planes, particularly those who had made water landings. A well placed bucket kept Suevar's vomit from just spraying on the dock and he had good aim too, launching it straight into the can from almost 100 meters away. River water and jet fuel never mixed. While most of the fuel was uncontaminated, some was and it was that which the Airbus was throwing up. Even though he was warming up he still felt miserable and I couldn't blame him a bit. I would too if I were him. He hissed in pain as he leaned against me and I gladly supported his weight. I felt his nose press lightly to my shoulder and I turned my head to lick his muzzle. He purred. "Thank you." He murmured. I smiled. "Thank me and the Stargazers. I couldn't have rescued you without their help." I replied. His eyes flickered skyward and he murmured a soft prayer. I had no issue now that he was out of danger and allowed him to slip off to sleep at my side.