Follow up to Rule 11060: Archerfish Gets (Steals?) Her Own Plane
Ensign (formally Commander) USS Archerfish half fumed, half skipped and hummed her way down the busy New York streets. In the aftermath of the Southwest Incident all the submarines had taken a severe drop in rank (Wahoo was busted down from Captain to Petty Officer) and nearly all of their paychecks were diverted to Southwest Airlines, as part of the Navy's compensation package for their girl's crazy stunt. Archerfish had barely enough savings after three months to afford a bus ticket but where she was going was worth it.
All the 737s "stolen" by the submarines in their stunt had been returned to the rightful owner and put back on their assigned routes. Except one. The plane Archerfish had taken, N8701Q, was still right where she parked it and despite the efforts of several captains and crews, remained there. Southwest was paying hundreds of dollars a day in airport fees to have this plane sit there and as much as Archerfish was sure they wanted to, they couldn't exactly put the blame on her. Yes, she had "freed" this Max from her desert prison but it was the plane that had decided to confess its undying love and loyalty to its submarine pilot on their one and only trip together.
Of course no one else knew about this which was why Archerfish had slipped away off base and was currently skipping down the New York streets to the airport. With the amount of people on a single sidewalk in the City that Never Sleeps on any given day, one would think that someone would spot the shipgirl. But Archerfish was a submarine and could be practically invisible when she wanted to be. Like now.
She was still humming to herself, she walked through the main entrance at Arrivals, making her way through security (without them seeing her) and out to the gates. She slipped past the ticket counter and down the jetbridge stairs to the tarmac where her plane was waiting. No one really knows for sure how a plane "sees". They have their sensors, their pitot tubes and their AoA indicators to feel their way through the skies. Their radar dome gave them a wide view ahead. However it was that she was spotted, once Archerfish was seen and identified, the Max literally bounced at the gate, its wheels lifting about a foot off the ground before touching again. The flaps, slats, spoilers and other control surfaces on the wings were lifting up and down and the rudder was moving back and forth wildly in a manner eerily reminiscent of a dog wagging its tail.
Archerfish put up a calming hand. "Hi sweetie, I'm back." She rested her palm on the plane's nose. There was a low humming sound, a smooth vibration like a cat's purr. "Yes I know, I know. You wanna go flying." The nose gear bounced as the plane's head bobbed up and down vigorously. "Okay, let's go!"
Archerfish quickly climbed into the cockpit, feeling the eager plane quiver under her hands. "Settle down darling." She cooed and a soft chime answered her.
Without needing any assistance, the N8701Q backed away from the gate and taxied out to the runway. In the control tower, the movement did not go unseen. "Kennedy Ground to the Southwest jet on Oscar, can you stop and hold short of Gulf please. Advise intentions."
"Kennedy Ground, 8701Q holding short of Gulf as requested. We'd like to make a quick flight over the city then we'll come back." A very familiar voice was heard across the frequency. Fellow pilots could not resist joining in. "You again?" "How was navy prison?" "You taking your darlin' up for a quick flight?" Archerfish giggled and she wasn't the only one. The entire plane gave a light shudder. "I'm a proverbial bad penny." Archerfish deadpanned and this time the shuddering was much more intense. The lights, inside and out flickered as the Max practically howled with laughter.
The controllers knew there was nothing they could do to stop Archerfish. "Expect Runway 04L. Continue Oscar and hold short of 13R." "Oscar and short of 13R, 8701Q."
With JFK's usual traffic it took 30 minutes to make the short taxi across 13R, down Kilo and to the end of 04L. By the time Archerfish got there she could see the welcoming committee being rolled out. Well, she'd deal with them when she was on the ground again. "Let's go sweetheart." She said and throttled up. The Max leaped down the runway and without any input from Archerfish, waggled its wings cheekily as it went skywards. Reveling in showing the law enforcement its tail once again. "I am a bad influence on you." Archerfish said and the responding giggle told her how much the Max cared that she was that.
...
The Max had not taken on any fuel since it arrived in JFK and it was low then. So the flight was short, maybe 45 minutes before running close to fuel starvation and with warning lights threatening to sound, the pair touched down. By the time Archerfish pulled up to the gate it seemed like the entire New York Police Department, plus representatives from Southwest, plus her Admiral (shit!) were standing there. The Max was trembling in her hand, one engine flaming out before Archerfish could shut it down herself. "It's okay sweetie, I'll find you a hose and you can drink all the JetA you want."
She exited but found her path blocked by the Max's front landing gear. It was like she was being held and the plane would not let her go. "Sweetie, I can't stay here." A low pitched whine issued from above her. "I know, but hopefully I won't be in too much trouble. There's not much more they can do to me." Archerfish tried to move but the Max would not let her. "Come on now. The longer you keep me here, the worse my punishment will be." Which may or may not have been true, the submarine wasn't sure but either way it worked and she was free to go.
There were no handcuffs this time however there were no smiley faces either. Admiral Briggs looked particularly stern and Archerfish knew she'd be in for it when she got back to base. The Southwest representative came forward now. Archerfish recognized him as Kelly, the head honcho. They'd met before but he'd been far less nice looking then, screaming at her admiral to deliver on the Navy's "compensation package".
"Archerfish." He leveled his gaze on her.
"Sir." She returned civilly.
"Before I let these boys take you I have one question. How did you manage to get this plane in the sky when our best pilots couldn't manage it?"
"Simple." Archerfish grinned. "She loves me." Behind her, the Max bounced on all its wheels again, strobes flashing and rudder waggling a million miles a minute. There were multiple groans from the gathered folk, quite a few facepalms. Archerfish noticed Briggs had his face buried in his hands and was muttering something about "MSSB and his liquor stash." Poor man.
Kelly, to his credit, looked more than a bit off color but he didn't flinch.
"...I, can see that." The CEO cleared his throat. "Archerfish, do you think you are qualified to handle this aircraft?"
"Handled her twice already just fine didn't I?" Archerfish couldn't resist the snark but at Briggs' harsh look she quickly snapped too. "Uh, I mean yes sir!"
"Well then, I'm sure the navy can find a nice hanger for her somewhere if we, lease her to you." The bouncing from the Max was very intense this time, shaking them all.
"Calm down!" Archerfish called.
Briggs was just beginning to recover his voice. "Bu-bu- what happened to you punishing her? She stole one of your airplanes!"
"As I recall the Navy does its own discipline, I'll leave that to you. As for me, who am I to get in the way of true love." He nodded to where Archerfish was stroking the Max's nose, earning herself some more light flashing and control surface wiggling. "Besides," Kelly added with a sly shadow of a smirk. "The look on your face is more than enough. You'll find a bottle of southern bourbon on your desk when you get back. My compliments." He left with an added grumble of "And I need a drink myself." His attendants hurried after him, each beginning a search to quickly procure his request.
Briggs was left staring after him and looking back at Archerfish who was getting rather cuddly with her new plane. A plane he would now have to find a place to keep, preferably somewhere close to his base. Then he would need to find a harsher and more suitable punishment for its new pilot. And, there was only one thing he could say to all that. "I hate my life!"