Thirteen Days: Climbing Sunwards

[x-cyclops.livejournal.com]

The flight up.


"She's probably not going to handle as well, with that much extra weight on her back," Scott said almost absently, gazing at the glider on its mount on the back of the Blackbird. "I know we modeled that in the simulator, but it may not have been the best approximation... you'll need to be careful, 'Ro."

The look that was shot at him was only slightly less than annoyed; it managed to be tempered by nerves and the knowledge that he had to be feeling just the same, if not worse. "I know. I will," Ororo murmured, working to project a calm and assurance that she simply didn't feel. "We will certainly do our best."

Scott looked back at her, as if startled by the tone, and surprised himself with a sudden, warm smile lacking in any of the usual self-consciousness or wryness. "I know you will," he said. "Just... don't crash my plane. I'm going to want to take it up for long secretive midnight test flights when I get back, you know. You and I are going to have to have words if you take away my second-favorite pasttime."

"I accidentally maybe crash it once and you still will not let me live it down," she replied with a rueful smile, giving a shake of her head. "What must I do to make you believe I will not let anything happen to her?"

"Actually, I was figuring that I would just go on never letting you live that down, until we were both old and gray," was Scott's flippant-sounding response. The smile faded abruptly, though, and he took a step forward, giving her a one-armed - he was holding the helmet with his other hand - but no less tight hug. "Land safe, okay, and we'll call it even." He gave a barely audible laugh. "One of us needs to get an aircraft down intact today, and I don't like my chances."

Ororo's brow furrowed and she slipped both her arms around him to return the embrace tightly. "Except for the part where you are a phenomenal pilot with the best equipment available." She didn't feel the need to add in the time we were given, which wasn't much.

"Blowing sunshine up my ass. I'll take it, though." He gave her one more squeeze and then stepped back, smiling a bit. "This is one of those days I wish we had some good luck ritual... I suppose it's too late to invent something."

"It is never too late," she told him then with a shake of her finger, feeling as if the smile on her lips was tacked on precariously, in danger of slipping off at any second. "How about a swift kick in the pants to send you off for being such a pessimist? I like that..."

"Promises, promises. Save it for when I'm back on the ground? I find that more fitting." Scott leaned in abruptly, kissing her on the cheek, before he drew back. "I'll see you later, 'Ro."

She couldn't have been more surprised than if he had given her the kick in the rear, and merely blinked at him for a moment before nodding back at him. "Yes. Be safe, Scott, and I will see you later."

--

Forge leaned forward, rechecking the instrument readouts. "Fuel lines are go, engines are ready to handle the extra load, and all the connections to the glider read green. Ready to lift off, Storm?" He looked over at Ororo. "You want to take this part or shall I?"

Her hands were already on the controls, and with a smart nod Ororo began the sequence for the vertical liftoff that would take them out of the hangar. She noticed as the Blackbird began to power up that her knuckles were white against the dark yoke; a glance sideways ensured her that Forge hadn't noticed. At least he wasn't staring if he had. "No going back now," she muttered, more to herself than to him.

As they passed out of the hangar into the open air, Forge's eyes widened as he saw the mansion pass beneath them through the cockpit windows. He'd seen it before when he'd been on flights with Scott in the Blackbird, but it never failed to amaze him.

He let out a slow breath, letting his mind slip into a clear state as he rested his hands lightly on the co-pilot controls. "I've put in a flight plan to get us up to seventy-five thousand feet," Forge explained. "From there I'll take the controls because I'll need you to interpret the reports from NOAA on upper-altitude jetstream conditions. Once we get up past the one hundred twenty-five thousand foot altitude, we'll have to switch over to the solid-fuel boosters to accelerate into the jetstream, and then get to the glider release point."

They'd gone over the plan again and again in the briefings and in the simulator, but repeating it made it clearer in Forge's mind. Under his hands, he could feel the engines and flight surfaces of the jet like they were part of his own body. "Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue..." he recited quietly, remembering the words Scott had shared with him on his first time up in the 'Bird.

Perhaps it was merely a rite of passage - surely flying in the Blackbird was something every X-Man had to grow accustomed to in their lifetime. But there were some X-Men who never seemed to slip past that initial phase of awe into a more jaded passenger's view. Like Scott.

"Perhaps you would like to take the controls a bit earlier," she offered, gesturing for him to do just that.

Blinking, Forge just nodded in response and settled into the seat. With a few quick toggles, he transferred the flight path information over to Ororo's control and gently gripped the yoke. He rolled his shoulders, then reached down to redirect the vertical thrust into forward motion. "Beginning flight path to waypoint alpha," he said aloud for the benefit of the flight recorder. He turned his head to smile at his team leader. "No turning back now, right."

"Not that we would want to," Ororo replied with her own smile, albeit one that took some encouraging. "Whatever else they might think of us, I would imagine most people would want us to continue with this course of action, if they knew of it."

"Unsung heroes," Forge agreed. "But hey, I don't think any of us are in it for the fame. How's it go? We, the unknowing, led by the unprepared, are doing the impossible, for the ungrateful?"

--

"Ready for separation," Scott said briefly over the coms; they were high enough in the atmosphere, and moving fast enough that there really wasn't much room for extensive conversation one way or the other. They were only going to get one shot at this, after all. "Repeat, ready for separation." The coms were already having difficulty.

"Cutting auxiliary feeds for oxygen... now. We have velocity match at ninety-five percent... ninety-seven... ninety-eight, close enough." Forge's voice was as casual as if he were reading off a grocery list, and not shooting through the upper atmosphere at speeds most aeronautics designers would have aneurisms over. "Ready to release glider into the jetstream..." He glanced over to Ororo for confirmation.

"Separation initiated." With no small amount of trepidation the silver-haired woman gave the signal for Forge to begin the procedure; 'close enough' wasn't exactly reassuring, but then, if he said it would suffice...

Forge held his breath despite his efforts to remain calm. This was the trickiest part of the procedure. At the moment the glider separated, he would need to throttle back the engines, or the Blackbird would shoot ahead of the glider with the suddenly reduced load, and the wake it would create could throw the lighter plane completely off course, possibly disastrously.

"Separation in three... two..."

Forge's hand tightened imperceptibly on the throttle lever, and his eyes closed slowly as he let his breath out in one smooth motion. In that breath, the Blackbird was an extension of his own body, and for the span of a few seconds, he was flying through the air, feeling the glider release into the jetstream.

"Throttle down to one hundred seventeen percent, velocity match with the glider, separation successful," he intoned without looking at the monitors or even opening his eyes. "Beginning Blackbird descent. Godspeed, X-Men."

"See you soon," was Scott's laconic reply. Barely audible through the increasing static.