A/N: Behold, Part Five! And here's the summary: Sky and Dusty are simple farm folk from Propwash Junction, with the shared dream of becoming world-class racers. As their journey around the world continues, they'll meet new friends, battle enemies, and learn what it truly means to work as a team.
Enjoy!
Co-Pilots
Chapter One: Unstoppable
Skylar Amelia "Sky" Riley paused in her singing and strumming as the sound of a whistle rang out in the distance. She brightened up, smiling broadly. "Quitting time!" She gently set her guitar down on her bed and jumped off, checking herself out in the full-length mirror on the wall. Her long, jet-black hair reached down to her waist, held back by a black/grey/white camouflage bandana. She brushed off her dark navy jeans and straightened out her dark grey T-shirt, smiling proudly at the black Jolly Wrench insignia printed on the front of the shirt. The seventeen-year-old quickly found her black Converse sneakers and laced them on her feet, jumping up and racing towards the door. But the sound of Skipper clearing his throat made her screech to a halt, and she spun around to face her adoptive father. He gestured towards the back room, and Sky suddenly remembered she was supposed to clean the kitchen today.
"Oh, right. Uh, I can finish that when I get back. I'll do it tonight, before I go to bed. I promise." She gave Skipper her best pout, silently pleading for him to let her go. Skipper stared at her for a moment before jerking his nose towards the hanger doors, allowing her to go. She hugged his wing and gave him a kiss. "Thanks Dad! Love you!" She turned and took off, grabbing her radio from the nail on the wall on her way out. She jogged out to about halfway down the runway, waiting patiently for Dusty to come in. She waved and greeted the other Propwash Junction residents as they passed, her blue-green eyes sparkling as she adjusted her headset onto her skull and tucked her radio into one pocket.
"This is Dust Storm to Soarin' Sky!" Dusty called into the radio. "Come in, Soarin' Sky! Over."
"This is Soarin' Sky to Dust Storm." Sky said into her mic.
"Ready for practice, co-pilot?" Dusty asked.
"You bet!" Sky nodded, waving to the crop duster as he came down onto the runway. Sky took off running, Dusty rolling up beside her and dipping a wing to better help the energetic teen to jump up. She carefully yet quickly climbed across his wing to the metal bar and backrest between Dusty's canopy and his radio antennae, hopping onto the plane and wrapping the harness around her. Once the harness was securely strapped to the bar, she looked to the small side view mirror on Dusty's left, allowing the two to lock eyes.
"Ready?" Dusty asked, noticing they were nearing the end of the runway.
"Locked and loaded! Let's fly!" Sky urged, grabbing old of the bar like preparing for a roller coaster ride. Although, the teen often claimed riding Dusty was like riding a roller coaster. Dusty lifted up off the runway, taking off again into the skies. Sky leaned her head back and let the wind wash over her face, and she sighed in content. Dusty noticed and laughed a bit before calling Chug.
"This is Dusty Crophopper to Chug." Dusty said. "Over."
"Chug isn't here!" the fuel truck said into the radio.
"It certainly sounds like Chug." Sky laughed.
"Oh, right." Dusty caught on. "This is Strut Jetstream calling Turbo Coach Truck-zilla. Ready for practice?"
"You betcha, Strut!" Chug said.
"Some call signs!" Sky laughed.
"He still calls you Soarin' Sky!" Dusty noted, whooping and laughing as he turned and headed back towards the fields where he, Chug, and Sky liked to practice. He knife edged the flags on Skipper's hanger, coming mere inches from the roof. Sky could almost see Skipper's disdainful scowl, the look he usually wore when he saw Dusty practicing.
"Easy there, Dusty!" Sky called. "You almost took the roof off my house!"
"Sorry!" Dusty called.
"Hey Soarin' Sky!" Chug said into their radios. "I got you two in sight. Connection up yet?"
"One sec!" Sky readjusted her grip on the bar she was strapped to, focusing her psyche human powers. Dusty focused too, and soon they both felt a pull in their heart/engine that told them the connection went through. "Okay, Chug! We're all connected and ready to go!"
"All right!" Chug cheered. Dusty's engine roared as he shot off, making wide turns and pushing his torque as far as it would go. Sky leaned into the backrest from the momentum, keeping the connection up to increase Dusty's speed and strength. "Come on, buddy, keep it goin'!" Chug encouraged, watching the pair from his perch on a cliff.
"What else you got?" Dusty asked.
"Okay. Now let's try some tree line moguls!" Chug said. Dusty shot off, Sky whooping and laughing the entire time.
"You go, Dusty!" Sky cheered. "Atta boy! Yes!"
"Adjust your angle of bank with your alien irons!" Chug called, no doubt reading from his Air Racing for Dummies book.
"You mean 'ailerons.'" Dusty corrected, much to Sky's amusement.
"Oh, yeah." Chug said.
POP!
Smoke suddenly began streaming from one of Dusty's exhaust pipes on his nose, and Sky felt a small pinch of pain, forcing her to break the connection.
"Oh, great." Dusty groaned.
Sky groaned too. "You better land." Dusty reluctantly obeyed, screeching to a halt on the tarmac of Propwash Junction's airport and then rolling towards town. Sky unbuckled herself from the harness and hopped down to Dusty's wing, inspecting the smoke coming from the crop duster's pipes. "Great. Dottie's gonna kill you."
"Let's just hope she doesn't realize how this happened." Dusty said.
"She's a lot smarter than you think." Sky pointed out. Her face turned serious. "Dusty, this isn't the first time this has happened. You've really gotta take care of yourself."
"I know." Dusty said.
"I'm serious, Dusty." Sky said. "When we make our connection, I can feel when there's something physically wrong. We can't be having things like this happening during the Wings Around the Globe Rally. If we flame out during the qualifiers, we'll be done before we've even started."
"I know!" Dusty assured. "Look, you worry too much."
"Or maybe you don't worry enough." Sky smirked, giving Dusty a playful shove. "Just go have Dottie fix you up. No way are we going to be doing much practice tonight."
"Aw man." Dusty pouted.
"Hey, don't worry." Sky assured. "We're killing it out there. Besides, I have chores to get done tonight if I want to be free this weekend for the qualifier." She patted the crop duster's canopy. "See you tomorrow, Dust Storm!"
"Take it easy, Soarin' Sky!" Dusty called as Sky jumped off his wing and began jogging back home.
Sky was right; Dottie was not pleased when she found out Dusty wore out his main oil seal from racing around the corn fields. She seemed to feel the need to explain, again, that Dusty was built to dust crops and not race, even going so far as to list all the things that would go wrong if he pushed it too hard in vivid and specific detail. Dusty invited her to come with them to the qualifier, to which she didn't give a straight answer. But she did warn Dusty about putting Sky in danger while doing these stunts. Dusty knew she had a point there; Sky's psych-man abilities allowed him to be stronger and faster while they race, but if he got hurt his injuries could possibly carry through the connection and into Sky. The raven-haired teen explained her abilities briefly to Dusty, but not skipping any important details such as that. Still, Sky was pretty tough. Surely she could handle a few minor bumps and bruises. And who's to say Dusty would actually hurt himself all that badly?
So he wasn't worried. Especially not when he and Chug settled down in his hanger and watched RSN that evening. The Wings Around the Globe Rally was just two weeks away, and Dusty could practically feel his excitement bubbling up inside him.
When Dusty and Chug started watching RSN's Top Ten Crashes, Dusty's confidence began to waver. He winced in sympathy at the sight of planes taking nosedives right off runway platforms, rip through pylons and crash to the ground, and just overall looking like they were in quite a bit of pain.
Chug glanced to his Air Racing for Dummies book. "Uh, Dusty? I'm starting to think this may not cover all
"What do you mean?" Dusty asked, sounding nervous himself.
Chug stammered a bit. "I'm just wondering if maybe we need…..some help."
"Help?" Dusty repeated. "From who?"
"Oh, well, like uh….." Chug thought for a moment. "Skylar's dad, the Skipper?"
"That old Corsair down at the end of the runway?" Dusty asked incredulously. Despite his friendship with Sky, Dusty never exactly met Skipper before. He only saw him a couple times in person, even after Sky moved to Propwash Junction. It was hard to believe the reclusive old warplane had it in him to adopt a kid.
"Sure! He's a war hero." Chug said.
"He's an old crankshaft." Dusty rolled his eyes. "Sky's dad or not."
"My buddy Sparky says the Skipper was a legendary flight instructor in the Navy!" Chug protested. "He knows stuff."
"If he knows stuff, why doesn't Sky just ask him?" Dusty scoffed.
"Maybe she never thought about it." Chug suggested. "We didn't until just now."
"He's been grounded for decades." Dusty protested. "Why would I want to be coached by a plane who doesn't even fly?"
"At least he's a plane." Chug noted. The two of them turned back to the TV to see the number one crash, wincing in sympathy. An explosion happened, leaving the crop duster and fuel truck staring in shock. "Still don't want to see Skipper?"
"Well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to ask." Dusty finally agreed. "Yeah, let's go." He and Chug hurried from the hanger and made their way towards the edge of town. But Dusty couldn't help feeling nervous. Sky, as kind as she could be, was also tough as nails; if angered or even just irritated, she wouldn't hesitate to give anyone a piece of her mind or put her fist in their face. If she learned that from Skipper, did Dusty even want to know what the Corsair was like?
Sky hummed softly, plucking her guitar a bit as she lounged back in her bed. Luckily, she finished all her chores shortly after returning home from her brief practice with Dusty. Skipper gave her the all-clear, but she could tell he was reluctant to let her go to those qualifiers this weekend. Maybe it was because of her friendship with Dusty. She first met Dusty on one of her first trips to Propwash, but she didn't really become his friend until she was twelve. He noticed she would often stand on the edge of the cliff near the runway, spreading her arms out and letting the updraft blow against her so she could pretend to fly. Dusty managed to convince Dottie to hook him up with the backrest and handlebar to give Sky the true experience of flying. They grew close over the years, sharing the dream of being racers together. Sky loved the feeling of riding Dusty through the air, feeling like she could actually fly herself.
Now, she was content to relaxing in her bed, trying to learn a new song on her guitar. Still ever the music fan, if Sky wasn't doing her chores or practicing with Dusty, she could often be found with her guitar in her lap and singing softly.
Ding dong
Sky looked up, pausing in her strumming to stare towards the door quizzically. I wonder who that could be at this hour. Sparky helped Skipper roll up to the hanger doors and slide them open, allowing the Corsair to glare at whoever stood outside.
"Hey, there…Skipper…." A familiar voice greeted from just beyond the doors.
"Dusty?" Sky whispered, standing from her bed and moving from behind the curtained area that was her room. Sure enough, she could see the crop duster standing right outside the hanger doors.
"Say, I'm trying out for the Wings Around the Globe Rally." Dusty explained, sounding nervous. No surprise, given Skipper's great size compared to him and the fact that the Corsair radiated with a dominating energy. Dusty tried to keep the conversation casual. "And I know you can't fly anymore."
Sky face palmed. You idiot. Skipper's glare deepened as he looked down at Dusty.
Dusty caught his mistake. "But, uh, you know…..they say 'Those who can't do, teach.' So….." He gulped. "Okay, what I mean to say is…..you're not a truck. So I was wondering if you would train me…?"
Skipper continued to glare at Dusty as he slammed the hanger doors shut. Sky sighed. "Dad." She groaned.
Ding dong.
Skipper opened the hanger doors again to see Dusty hadn't moved from his spot. "So I heard you shot down fifty planes." Dusty started, as though that would be a better conversation starter.
"You looking to be number fifty-one?" Skipper growled.
Conversation shot.
"No." Dusty said. The hanger doors began sliding shut again, and he panicked a bit. "Wait! I was just thinking that with my guts and your glory—"
"Your guts would be a grease spot on a runway somewhere." Skipper interrupted, the glare still in his eyes. "Go home. You're in over your head, kid!" The hanger doors slammed shut again, the lights of the hanger shutting off and effectively ending the talk.
Sky crossed her arms and tapped her foot, casting a look at Skipper. "Was that necessary? Remember how we first met?"
"There's a difference between you and that crop duster." Skipper said as he settled down to sleep.
"What's that?" Sky asked.
"I just wanted to scare you off. I want to kill him." Skipper replied.
Sky rolled her eyes, walking towards the back door to the hanger and slipping outside. She jogged around the hanger and found Chug and Dusty making their way back to town. "Hey! Chug! Dusty!"
The two vehicles paused as Sky came up. "Oh, hey there Sky." Dusty greeted. "I didn't know you were still up." Then, to his surprise, Sky hopped up on his wing and gave him a quick jab to the canopy with her fist. "OW! What was that for?"
"Because you're an idiot." Sky droned, putting her hands on her hips. "What were you thinking asking my dad for help?"
"Well, we just thought that since he's a plane and I'm not—" Chug started.
"Did you really think that through before coming here?" Sky asked. Chug and Dusty exchanged looks, and Sky groaned. "Look, I know you guys might be a little nervous about the qualifiers. But asking my dad, Commander Skipper Riley the warplane, for help?"
"What's the problem?" Dusty asked.
"Do you have any idea how much convincing and begging I had to do for him to let me go to the qualifiers with you?" Sky scoffed. "News flash, my friend: he actually doesn't like you very much."
"Why's that?" Dusty asked, sounding a little insulted.
"Because you go flying around like a maniac with his precious baby girl on your back." Sky said with a small laugh. "His words, not mine."
"Come on, Sky. Surely he's not that protective." Chug said.
"Two words: Jolly Wrench." Sky said.
"I stand corrected." Chug admitted.
Sky looked to Dusty. "Listen: we're going to be fine. We're going to rock it at those qualifiers and we're going to kill it at the Rally. But do yourself a favor and don't ever ask Skipper for help with this again, okay?"
Dusty sighed. "Okay."
"That's my Dust Storm." Sky smiled, giving Dusty a pat on the canopy. "Goodnight, you two." Chug and Dusty bid Sky goodnight as they parted ways and headed home. Sky looked up to the full moon and stars overhead.
We're gonna be just fine. She assured herself. I know Dusty. Together, we're unstoppable.