Chapter Three: Training
Dusty stared at the map that plotted out the WAG race. The course never looked so daunting before, and it seemed to just occur to Dusty that they were literally going around the world for this race. The weight of the news finally crashed down onto him, and he began to seriously wonder if he and Sky were ready for this. He knew Sky was rippin' and roarin' ready to go, brave enough to take the world by storm. But in the end, he was the flyer. Could he trust himself with not only his own safety but Sky's too?
Dusty heard squeaking of old wheels turning, and he turned to see Skipper standing in the doorway of his hanger, his usual glare still in his eyes. Sparky was pushing him along, per the usual, and Sky sat in the bend of his right wing. She looked a little nervous, but remained silent.
"You'll end up a smokin' hole on the side of a mountain with your parts spread over five countries." Skipper told Dusty.
Dusty glared a bit in irritation. "What makes you say that?"
"You're goin' up against the best racers in the world." Skipper said as Sparky turned him to stare out the window. "You're sloppy on your rolls. Wide on your turns. Slow on your straightaways."
Dusty blinked in surprise. "You've been watching me?"
"Yeah, watching you make a fool out of yourself and my daughter." Skipper scoffed. "You need to be tighter gettin' in and out of your knife-edge. Any extra control input costs you speed and seconds."
"So, I'm overcorrecting?" Dusty guessed. Sky and Dusty exchanged looks, and Dusty felt a smile creep up. "Are you giving me pointers?"
Skipper mentally hit himself. Old habits die hard. "No!" He snapped, allowing Sparky to spin him around to face Dusty. "I'm tellin' ya to forget all this racing malarkey. You just ain't built for it!"
Dusty suddenly glared. "You don't think I know that? I've been flying back and forth across the same fields for years! I've flown thousands of miles and I've never been anywhere. I'm not like you! You were built to fight and look what you did. You're a hero."
Skipper looked down, keeping his glare as Sparky and Sky cast him looks. Sky knew it was best to just stay quiet, but it was times like these she wondered what Skipper thought about. He may be her father, but it didn't make him any less reserved.
"I'm just trying to prove that maybe I can do more than what I was built for." Dusty said, sighing. Sky stared at the crop duster, surprised by the declaration. Still, she could empathize with him; she felt similar feelings when she used to loathe the idea of being a psyche human. Those feelings often came back to haunt her to this day. Dusty glared at Skipper before averting his gaze.
Sky looked to Skipper, waiting with baited breath to see what the Corsair would do. He was glaring so hard his eyes were nearly shut, analyzing Dusty with a critical gaze. Sky perked up a bit; if Skipper was staring at Dusty like this, he was seriously considering something.
Finally, Skipper spoke up as Sparky pushed him back home. "0500 tomorrow. Don't be late."
"Wait. 0500?" Dusty repeated, confused.
"Yeah!" Sparky confirmed. "Five a.m.!" Dusty stared after them before a smile spread across his lips.
Sky jumped up to Skipper's cockpit and hugged him. "Oh thank you thank you thank you so much! I so owe you big time! Thank you!"
"All right, all right!" Skipper rolled his eyes, pretending to be embarrassed. "Don't think you're getting out of the hard work, kiddo. You and Dusty both have a lot of work to do."
"You got it." Sky nodded, giggling excitedly. "You won't be disappointed."
By the time the neighborhood rooster crowed, Dusty and Sky were already in the air and ready for instructions. Skipper, Sparky, and Chug stood on the cliff just outside Skipper's hanger, watching them go. Skipper stared at his trainees through his binoculars, his old teaching habits going into overdrive.
"Remember this: it ain't how fast you fly, it's how you fly fast." Skipper said over Dusty's and Sky's radios. "Show me what you got."
"Watch this!" Dusty called excitedly, performing some tree line moguls. Sky whooped and cheered, laughing.
"Great. You can go up and down." Skipper droned. "Show me your turns!"
"Hard left, Dusty!" Sky ordered, the crop duster obeying.
"That was pathetic!" Skipper snapped. "Knife-edge those elm trees!" Dusty made a sharp spin, only for his landing gear to smack against the branches of the trees. Sky spit out a few leaves that ended up in her mouth.
"Don't worry, Dusty." Sky assured. "Just keep it up."
"Skylar Amelia Riley!" Skipper snapped.
Sky jumped. "Uh, yeah Dad? I mean, yes sir?"
"What do you think you're doing?" Skipper demanded.
"Uh….."
"Is this a leisurely ride through the park? No! Ergo, you should not be riding him like that!"
"Huh?"
"You've ridden a horse before, right?"
"Yeah, once or twice."
"Treat Dusty like a horse!"
"What?!" Sky and Dusty yelped.
"You are not a passive rider, you're an active rider!" Skipper snapped. "Ride Dusty like those jockeys do in those horse races you like to watch."
"Uh, okay. Sorry about this, Dust." Sky readjusted herself as best she could, pulling her feet up and pushing them against the backrest to crouch down over Dusty's back. "Like this?"
"Close enough for now." Skipper droned.
Sky's cheeks turned red. This is going to be harder than I thought.
"You want speed, right?" Skipper asked suddenly. "Serious, bolt-rattling speed?"
"Oh yeah!" Sky nodded, Dusty agreeing.
"Good. Look up." Dusty and Sky looked to find the clouds high above them in near-perfect lines, curved a bit like the arc of a rainbow. "Do you see those clouds? The highway in the sky. Tailwinds like nothing you've ever flown."
Dusty cringed a bit, staring at how far away those clouds looked. "Come on, Dusty!" Sky called encouragingly. "Let's go!" She could've sworn she heard Dusty gulp, but she shook it off as he angled up and began flying right up towards the clouds. Sky tightened her grip on the handlebar, grinning excitedly.
Sky suddenly noticed they were almost completely perpendicular to the ground below, and she blinked in confusion. "Dusty? Dusty?" Sky called worriedly. "Dusty, you're going to flip backwards!" Her grip tightened on the handlebar, this time in fear. "Dusty!"
Dusty had looked down, and suddenly he felt lightheaded and unable to breathe. He lurched, falling to one side, and Sky screamed as she suddenly slipped from her perch. Her harness kept her securely fastened to the crop duster and she hurriedly pulled herself back on as Dusty began gliding back down to a lower altitude.
"Dusty, land!" Sky ordered. "I want you on the ground, right now!" Dusty didn't dare argue, ignoring Skipper's confused calls as he made his way to the landing strip. He made a steady and smooth landing, and once he was fully on the ground and his prop stopped spinning Sky hurriedly unbuckled herself from the harness. She jumped to his wing and leaned against Dusty, panting like he did.
"You…okay?" Dusty asked.
"Fine." Sky swallowed, trying to control her breathing. "But I never thought I'd be afraid to be riding you. What happened?"
Dusty looked down. "Uh…"
"What just happened up there?" Skipper demanded as he, Sparky, and Chug approached the pair.
Dusty smiled nervously. "I'm low on fuel so—"
"Do I look like I was built yesterday?" Skipper growled.
"No, no!" Dusty said hurriedly. "It's a long story."
"I got time." Skipper replied instantly.
Dusty blinked, realizing the Corsair wasn't going to leave this alone. Sky stared at Dusty with concern and some irritation. What's so wrong that he can't tell anyone? Does he really think he's going to get out of talking to my dad about this?
"Uh…..okay, well…um….." Dusty stumbled over his words.
"The Jolly Wrenches have a motto: Volo Pro Veritas." Skipper said. "It means 'I fly for truth.' Clearly you don't. Sparky, push me back to the hanger. Skylar, we're going home."
"What?" Sky gasped. "But Dad—"
"Skylar Amelia Riley!" Skipper snapped as Sparky began pushing him home. "Right now!"
Sky cringed at her father's tone, and she sighed in defeat. "Yes, Dad." She cast an apologetic yet disappointed look to Dusty before jumping off his wing and running to Skipper, hopping up on his wing and sitting down. She sighed again, slouching. So much for the race.
"I'm afraid of heights!" Dusty suddenly called.
Sparky screeched to a halt, forcing Skipper to do the same. Skipper's and Sky's eyes widened for a moment before the former's fell back into a glare, Sparky turning him back around to face Dusty. Sky blinked a few times. "Uh, come again?"
"I'm afraid of heights." Dusty repeated.
"But….." Chug blinked. "….you're a plane."
"I'm a crop duster." Dusty protested. "I've never flown over a thousand feet."
"Dusty, that's kind of a significant thing to leave out when trying for a world-class race." Sky noted.
"It didn't seem that important." Dusty said.
"You're kidding me." Skipper glared. "Scared of heights and you want to race around the world?"
Sparky finally rolled forward. "Uh, Skip? During the attack of Tujunga Harbor, why even the P-38s had trouble at high altitudes."
"Well, they didn't have to fly over the Himalayas." Skipper scoffed, looking to Dusty.
"I'll still be low to the ground, just high up." Dusty protested weakly.
"It's still high up!" Sky snapped. "You realize you're the epitome of irony, right?"
"Oh, and after the war, those 38s went on to win races!" Sparky said excitedly, starting up an excited chat with Chug about warplanes becoming racers and breaking records. Sky stared at Dusty, shaking her head a bit. How could he not tell her about this? A fear of heights was so significant, it could greatly damage their chances of surviving the Rally, much less winning it. Sky cast a look to Skipper, who was staring at Dusty with that analytical gaze again. She could tell he was seriously considering dropping his lessons altogether, but something was holding him back. Sky put a hand to Skipper's nose, and the Corsair's blue-gray eyes locked with her blue-green ones. She gave an encouraging smile.
Skipper sighed silently. All right. If she can have so much confidence in him, maybe there's a sliver of hope left for the boy. "All right, all right!" he called, silencing Sparky and Chug. He looked to Dusty. "We'll work on the fear of heights. For now, let's see if we can turn low and sloppy into low and fast."
Dusty brightened up considerably. "Roger that!"
For the next week, Dusty and Sky were put through more hard work than they ever experienced in their lives. What became known as Skipper's Training Plan turned out to be running a race course he set up in one of the fields near Propwash, complete with slaloming radial G passes through grain silos, dead sprints, a climb and then a rolling dive to trade altitude for air speed and race across the finish line. Their opponent: a twin commuter's shadow across the ground.
Suffice to say, their first run ended in failure.
From there, it became a matter of increasing agility with practice and increasing speed with skillful maneuvers and some tinkering on Dottie's part, the forklift finally convinced into helping out. Terrified at the thought of getting his sprayer ripped off, he opted for Dottie to increase his torque to help raise his speed. He kept the handlebar, harness, and side mirror, but his backrest was taken out and replaced with a set of stirrups for Sky to put her feet in. It took a few runs for Sky to get used to the new position, riding Dusty like a jockey would a race horse.
Skipper drilled maneuvers and technical aspects into Dusty's and Sky's head, everything from what the heck a radial-G turn was to how to use gravity as an ally. They spent an entire day perfecting the radial-G, doing repetitions well into the night until they could perfect it. The training seemed to be going nowhere, especially when Skipper forced them to practice in the pouring rain. But that race in the rain was the first time Skipper complimented them. Well, all he said was "Better." But it's a start.
Then came Sky's part in the plan, requiring just as much hardcore training as Dusty. Along with getting used to her new riding position, she had to completely revamp the way she made her connection with her psyche human powers. Skipper worked with plenty of psyche human flyers in the Navy, giving him the proper expertise to help his daughter.
"You're holding back without even realizing it." Skipper explained one day. "The two of you are sharing strength. It's not about you giving him power and him taking it. You're not a spare engine. When you two make that connection, you become one."
Sky and Dusty took an entire day of training to strengthen their bond, per Skipper's demand. It required a lot of analyzing on how their connection felt when it activated and thinking long and hard about what made the connection stronger and weaker. The two talked for the entire day about it, practicing to make the connection. By the end, Skipper declared a perfect connection to use during the race.
"All right, Skylar, Dusty." Skipper said, staring into his binoculars. It was their last day of training. If it didn't work today, they went into the race without knowing their full potential. "Give this run all you've got!"
Sky readied herself and Dusty sped off, the two of them and the commuter's shadow crossing the starting line. He shot off towards the silos, slaloming them with perfect radial-G passes as Skipper's lessons seemed to echo in the racers' heads. Sky adjusted herself to Dusty's movements, keeping her muscles from getting tense so Dusty could move easier. The two of them felt their speed increase greatly, to the point where the tractors they passed reared up in surprise. They were catching up to the commuter's shadow as they began their climb. Dusty made his dive, and this time Sky was ready for it as he shot down and sped through the air.
The two of them raced across the finish line, 317 miles per hour and several yards ahead of their opponent.
"Yes!" Sky cheered, punching the air. "Whoo-hoo!"
"Yeah!" Dusty laughed as he swooped through the air in a victory lap.
"Way to go, Dust Storm!" Sky laughed, hugging the crop duster.
"Hey, back at ya!" Dusty said. "We're a team, Sky. Never forget that."
Sky nodded. "Never."
When the two racers finally calmed down enough to land, Skipper led them to his hanger where Sparky granted Dusty with a special gift: the Jolly Wrench insignia painted on his nose, just behind his propellers.
"The piston and cross-wrenches." He smiled at Skipper. "Your squadron insignia!"
"You've earned it." Skipper said with a smile.
"Besides, we gotta match while we're out there." Sky noted, looking to her shirt.
"And for you, Skylar Amelia, so you can actually see what's going on." Skipper gestured to Sparky, and the forklift held up a pair of aviation goggles.
Sky laughed, taking the goggles and nodding. "Thanks." She had to admit, her eyes tended to tear up a lot during those runs.
"Now listen." Skipper told the racers. "When the race starts and all those planes take off, it'll stir up a bunch of swirlies. Just like the Wrenches ran into in the Battle of Airway."
"Roger that." Dusty nodded. "Sure wish you were coming with us, Skip."
"Just radio back when you get to the check points." Skipper assured. "I'll be your wingman from here."
"Volo Pro Veritas, right?" Dusty asked.
"Volo Pro Veritas." Skipper nodded.
Sky hugged her father. "Thanks, Dad. This really means a lot."
"You worked your tail off, Miss Riley." Skipper said. "You just be careful, all right?"
"Can do." Sky nodded, smiling at Dusty proudly. It was a heck of a lot of work to get where they were now, and no way were they done just yet. But she felt glad she managed to persuade Skipper to coach her and Dusty.
"And Dusty." Skipper suddenly glared and moved very close to the crop duster. "You take care of my girl, or I'll rip your wings off and shove them down your throat."
Dusty chuckled nervously. "Come on, you wouldn't…." He caught the seriousness in Skipper's glare. "Oh….."
"Don't worry, Dusty. I'll be fine." Sky said, patting the crop duster. "I know you'll take care of me."
Dusty gulped a bit, laughing nervously. Skipper may be his friend now, but he had to remember one very crucial thing: he was Sky's father first.