[ WP ] In a world of airships and steamers you are the first airplane pilot .

I was jolted out of my slumber by the sounds of a heavy fist slamming on my cabin door, and the deep muffed voice of Sanders calling my name. `` Jameson!'' He banged on the door again `` Wake up! Th' cap'n wants ter talk to yers!'' 
 
 `` Alright! Alright...'' I yelled back. What did I do wrong this time? I groggily rolled out of my poor excuse of a bed and pulled my heavy leather boots on. 
 
 Fiddling with the worn out buckle on my right boot I heard another thud on the door and Sander's thick voice again `` Are yer comin'?'' Rubbing my face with my hands and running them through my messy hair I rose and strode to the door. I pulled the latch and opened it to see the burly form of Sanders and his huge beard in my doorway. 
 
 Sanders was a brick shithouse of a man. Big pot belly, hairy arms like trees, and while he was bald, he had hair everywhere else, almost as if to make up for it. He always wore his brass safety goggles over his eyes, and donned a stereotypical heavy apron complete with oil stains, diesel stains, and tool filled pockets. 
 
 `` What time is it Sanders?'' I asked as he stepped backwards to let me out. 
 
 `` Uhh its'bou' four?'' He said, scratching his head with a meaty finger. `` Cap'n said come to engineerin' wi' me.'' 
 
 I closed my cabin door, shrugged and started down the cramped corridor, Sanders in tow. 
 
 Four? Did he mean in the afternoon or...? I did n't remember seeing light coming through the porthole in my cabin, but we could be in the clouds. 
 
 Such was the life of airship mercs like us. Nobody wanted us, but everyone *needed* us to do something for them. Sabotage, steal, hijack, raid... All the things that an upstanding politician or beloved noble actually wanted done, but -of course- in secret. We were expendable and deniable assets at best. On more than one occasion an'employer' had set ambushes or traps for his own hired mercs rather than pay. So, us mercs rarely stayed in one place for too long, and mostly lived up in the relative safety of the clouds in our airships. 
 
 I was a first mate on *The Firebrand*. She was a fine ship, but she was getting old. She was probably one of the last of her kind still sky-worthy. A pure blooded Smithson & Jensen TBSR60. Do n't make'em like they used to. 
 
 After a few minutes we arrived at the engineering section and I wound the bulkhead release mechanism before pushing my way through. I saw before me something the mechanics had been working on for months. It was not the first time I'd seen it, but this time it looked far more... complete. 
 
 The dapper Captain George Hawksworth was standing next to the machine with his back to me and the bulkhead. Captain Hawksworth was in his late 50s, greyhaired, tall, and of average build, but sported a magnificent moustache that he spent hours getting *just so*, and always carried his trademark mahogany smoking pipe. 
 
 As I stepped into the bay Captain Hawksworth whirled round and enthusiasticly waved me over to join him, exhaling thick smoke as he did. 
 
 I heard Sanders closing the bulkhead behind me as I reached the Captain's side. `` Quite the thing, eh Jameson?'' He took a pull on his pipe and exhaled as he spoke `` This is it. This will change everything.'' A rich smell of vanilla filled the air around us. 
 
 I began scrutinising the machine before me. `` This thing?'' I said as I ran my eyes over the sleek fuselage, and the curved wings. `` This looks nothing like *The Firebrand* Captain... It has only one rotor, and I ca n't see any balloon latches.'' 
 
 Captain Hawksworth rumbled a laugh as he exhaled yet more thick vanilla smoke `` Jameson, are you an engineer?'' He grinned, but I could n't see his teeth through his glorious moustache `` A mechanic perhaps?'' 
 
 I rolled my eyes and folded my arms on my chest `` No, Captain.'' I huffed. 
 
 `` Indeed.'' He said as he ran his fingers affectionately along a horizontal seam on the machine `` Sanders!'' He called `` Is she fueled?'' 
 
 A clang and a grunt came from behind the machine `` Yesser, she's ready t' go!'' 
 
 `` Alright, First Mate Jameson!'' The Captain spun and locked eyes with mine. `` I want you to climb in, and take her out for a test flight!'' 
 
 I recoiled and stammered `` W-what?! But th --!'' 
 
 Captain Hawksworth cut me off `` Do n't make me order you!'' His eyes filled with fire `` I would do this myself were I a younger man such as yourself. I know you can do this!'' 
 
 So there I was sitting in the cockpit of this entirely too-small so-called'flying' machine, strapping myself in. Sanders tossed me a leather flightcap, and goggles. I wrenched them on and secured them tight. 
 
 I'd been given a run down of what the supposed'controls' were, and had a quick play to get the feel of her. As I finished going over the controls in my mind, heavy machinery hissed to life ahead of me that started heavy gears turning, which began to open the back of *The Firebrand's* engineering bay to the beautiful early morning sky. 
 
 I looked over to the Captain, who locked eyes once more and nodded. I nodded back, swallowed hard, then released the engine lock that was on the throttle control and pulled the ignition cord deep inside the cockpit. The engine sputtered for a moment, then filled the engineering bay a powerful, beastial roar. It was louder than I was expecting, even through my flightcap's sound muffling. This was a *powerful* engine. 
 
 With one final check that everything and everyone was clear of the bay doors I muttered a quick prayer to the gods, gave a final thumbs up to the crew, and notched up the throttle. 
 
 The machine lurched forwards and began gathering speed. Before I could blink I was out of the bay doors and plummeting head first towards the ground far below me. 
 
 Panicking I instinctively pulled the control lever to my chest causing the machine to veer upwards, and push me deep into my seat. Leveling the machine out I finally noticed the wind tearing at me, while my heart pounded away in my chest like a machinegun. I blinked again trying to clear my head as the sounds of the engine filled me with a sense of power, freedom, and exhilaration I'd never felt before. 
 
 Gathering my senses I quickly got my bearings and coaxed the machine back towards *The Firebrand*. 
 
 Eager to see what this machine could do, I pushed the throttle to the maximum and let the beastial machine roar hungrily through the sky. 
 
 I spotted some of the crew on the flight deck cheering and waving their arms as I ripped past the length of the airship in mere moments. 
 
 Captain Hawksworth was right, and there was no doubt in my mind. 
 
 This machine, this *Thunderbird*, would change everything -- forever.
