“We’re gliding.” Maria said, her voice a hushed whisper. “We’ve lost all engines.”

She was right.

Within the cockpit too, instruments were flashing on and off, as though on some insane power surge.

“Do we still have radio?” I asked her, keeping my hands on the control, in order to keep us upright in the air. There was still a bit to go before we reached that airport.

Beside me, I could hear Maria fiddle with the frequency.

“It’s not great.” She eventually told me. “They say they can hear me on and off.”

“And the cabin?”

At that moment there was a knock on the door, and Sal let herself in once more, wheeling a portable oxygen-tank behind her.

“What on earth is going on?” she asked, far more frazzled than I had ever seen her in the past.

“Not sure.” I replied. “Get the cabin ready for a rough and tumble. I can’t guarantee this will be smooth.”

Something about this entire ordeal was nagging at the back of my skull, while I did my best to navigate by the bright and dark patches of land I could see outside the windscreen.

It was as if I had seen or heard about something similar, but I couldn’t remember where from.

“Let’s get that checklist going. If we can get just one of these bad boys back up, we’ll be a lot better off.” I said, and Maria got out the quick-reference handbook and got started.

Sal remained in the cockpit while the two of us went about the points on our engine-failure and restart checklist.

There was response, I realized, but not enough to get us going.

“The crew downstairs are informing us of fire spurting from the engines.” Maria said after we’d gone through the checklist once for all four of them.

“They say passengers are getting agitated.”

“Right, who wouldn’t be?” I replied, still working on the checklist as we tried again.

“I’ll make an announcement. See if I can at least reassure them that we’re working on resolving the issue.”

I reached for the intercom mouthpiece and put it to my lips.

“Honoured passengers, this is your captain speaking.” I began in our usual tone of profession.

“We are currently experiencing some issues with our engines, and are doing our best to have matters resolved. The flames you see out your windows are a direct result of this, and are nothing to be alarmed about. We thank you for your patience and full co-operation while this issue persists.”

As I placed the mouth piece back, it donned on me.

“British Airways.” I said, and Maria passed me a glance.

“Beg your pardon?” she asked.

“That’s what this reminds me of! British Airways, Flight 9.”

Maria was silent for a moment, seeming to contemplate this information.

In the end she merely responded with.

“…Oh.”

“I feel it’s a far cry, but ask them about recent volcanic activity?” I told her, going through the events I had heard of that fateful flight.

“If that’s what it is, and we’re lucky, we might get our power back once we’re out of the ash.”

Maria got to work, updating ATC, while I continued to steer us the best I could.

“No volcanic activity, Captain.” Maria eventually said. “Whatever is messing with our aircraft must be something else.”

“Roger that, worth a shot.” I replied. “But I fear we might have even less time than we first anticipated. Ask if there’s anywhere closer we can touch down. Rivers, fields, anything goes.”

As Maria updated ATC, the two of us continued making attempts to restart our engines.

Gradually we got lower to the ground, and while we still had time, it was clear finding a suitable place to land was our highest priority.

Luckily this was Britain, and the amount of tilled fields and flatlands are plentiful.

We soon had vectors to a field not far off, and since we were at the end of our journey, we didn’t have to worry about dumping fuel, either.

“Notify the cabin.” I said. “We’re going down.”

As Maria spoke directly to Cabin crew, I made a public announcement to our passengers.

“After experiencing persisting trouble with our engines, we have elected to make an emergency landing in a field just west of Carmarthen. Please listen to and follow the guidelines our crew give you, they are here for everyone’s protection.

We ask you to straighten your seats, fold up your tables, fasten your seatbelts and brace for impact. Thank you.”

“Alright.” I went on, once again gripping the controls ahead of me with both hands.

That was when it dawned on me that there was no resistance in the yoke.

“Maria, it’s getting worse.” I said. “We’ve lost power in the yoke. I have no control.”

Maria tried on her side, but with the same result

And as though on cue, the plane began tilting down and towards the right.

The two of us shared an alarmed glance.

With no engines and no controls…

Suddenly our chances of surviving this ordeal, let alone getting us safely on the ground seemed non-existent.

“Engines, engines.” I said, and we began working on the checklist again.

At this point our only hope was to get either one of them working, if only to regain a little control and hopefully extend our time in the air.

As the aircraft banked further and further to the right, the nightlight of Britain began swaying before the windshield. We were pointing dangerously downwards.

Keeping one eye on our rapidly dropping altitude, I worked mechanically through the checklist, and by some miracle, we got not just one but two of them back online, still in time to save this situation.

Whispering a ‘thankyou’ under my breath, I abandoned the slack yoke, and began regulating our bank by the power of the engines alone.

In a matter of seconds I had us levelled out, but we still had a bit to go before that field.

“Are we looking good?” Maria asked, and I gave a brief nod, not taking my eyes off our flickering instruments.

“If we can keep this up, I think we’ll make it.”

She threw her head back with a sigh of relief, muttering something I couldn’t quite pick up.

With a mix of thrust power and air-drag, I did my best to steer the plane and get us down.

And that’s when the explosions occurred.

A series of sharp pops shook through the airplane.

“Oh, what now?” I muttered, still with my full attention on the task at hand.

I trusted Maria to handle any other situations.

“They say they saw little blips of fire from outside the windows.” She informed me after having consulted with cabin crew.

“Is it the fuel tanks?”

“I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t care.” I replied. “If we can just get down, it hopefully won’t matter anyway.”

But as we continued on towards our goal, the small explosions continued.

“We’ll have to evacuate quick once we’re down. Keep Cabin crew in the loop.”

As we closed in on the ground, the proximity alarms began sounding in the cockpit, but there was little we could do to pay attention.

At the one hundred mark, I addressed the cabin once more.

“Brace for impact.”

And then we were down, wheels dragging through the soft soil below us. Maria and I were thrown about like ragdolls in our seats. My mask was knocked halfway off my face, instruments and alarms flashed and beeped all around, and then…

Silence. We had come to a stop, aircraft tilted slightly to the left.

Shakily removing my oxygen mask, I turned to Maria.

“Alright, Maria?” I ask, and she nodded, removing her mask as well and unbuckling her belt.

“Good.” I breathed, sliding out of my seat. “Let’s get that evacuation going.”

Behind us, Sal had taken the jump seat during the landing, and she pulled off her mask and got up.

“Well done, you two!” she gave a smile, far shakier than I’ve ever seen her give, clapping us both on the shoulder as we joined her in the back.

Tilting my head, I gave a nervous laugh.

“Well!” I said. “All in a day’s work!”

I shared a glance with Maria, who passed a nervous smile of her own.

We exited the cockpit and went about initiating evacuation of the cabin.

As we worked, we all became aware of the faint scent of smoke in the air and the sound of rapid explosions.

“Much as I hate to say it, the right side can’t be used, Sal.” I muttered, assessing the tilt of the plane.

“The slides would be too steep. It might cause more harm than good.”

“Agreed, Captain.” Sal replied, marching off to get to work.

As passengers and then crew filed out of the usable exits, I remained at the front, overlooking it all.

“Seems to be everyone.” Sal informed me, walking back up the aisle to reconcile with me.

In that moment there was another cluster of explosions, and I shrank back under the noise.

“Great job, Sal, now get out.” I replied, pushing past her towards the cabin. “Get the people as far away from the plane as possible. I don’t like where this is going. Emergency response should be here soon.”

“But where are you going?” Sal turned to follow me with her gaze.

“I’ll just double check that everyone’s gotten out safely. I’ll be quick, Sal. Please head outside.”

Sal remained silent for a moment longer, watching me, and I straightened my back and passed her a look.

I realized our age gap and my lack of official uniform gave her the urge to protest, but I promptly reminded her who was in charge here, and in the end she gave a curt nod.

“Alright, Captain. Don’t die on me, now.”

I gave a crooked smile as she turned and made her way out the front-left exit.

“I’ll do my best.” I muttered, continuing on down the aisle, as more small explosions sounded outside and a flickering orange glow could be seen through the fogged-up windows.

Inside it was dark and I used a flashlight grabbed from a utility cupboard to search through the rows of seats for anyone left behind.

It seemed Sal and the crew had done a thorough job, though, and the plane really did appear to be empty.

Not that I’d expected otherwise, but as the sounds and fire outside intensified, I could not get myself to leave until I was absolutely sure.

Making my way to the very back, I did become aware of another sound.

Breathing, I realized, as I approached the very rear. Rapid sob-filled breathing.

I rushed over to the half-concealed back entrance and flight attendant seats, to find a flustered-looking, face-streaked-with-tears Fynn Glade.

He clawed desperately at the seatbelt which appeared to be completely stuck.

Throwing the flashlight to the floor, I slid to my knees at his side.

He gasped at my appearance, and I placed a reassuring hand on his briefly before going to work on the jammed seatbelt.

“C-captain Rhyse…” he muttered, voice thick with fear.

“Hey there, Fynn.” I replied, as a shudder ran through the cabin, while the plane sunk lower towards the ground, levelling out a little bit.

“Let’s get this belt off you.”

“What are you still doing here?” asked Fynn shakily. “The plane’s about to blow up!”

“My job is to see everybody safely out of the aircraft, passengers and crew alike.” I replied, tugging at the belt, and pulling at the warped clasp.

Giving a sigh of frustration, I glanced around.

“How come Sal didn’t find you?” I asked. “Did you call out?”

Another shudder, and the flames outside the windows flared up.

We were running out of time.

“I-it was chaotic!” replied Fynn, meekly pulling at the belt. “And, I… I’m awkward, alright! I don’t want to be a burden!”

“Fair enough.” I replied, bracing myself against the wall, as the plane collapsed further.

“Just get out!” Fynn yammered through choked breaths. “It’s not worth it!”

“With all due respect, Fynn, I’d rather die in here with you than live with the knowledge that I left you behind.”

Grabbing a piece of twisted metal from the floor, I went about slashing off the seatbelt strap.

It took a bit of effort, and the sharp edges of the metal tore into my palm, but eventually the strap snapped and I pulled Fynn with me and rushed for the nearest exit.

Behind us, the plane collapsed fully and fire began engulfing the hull and cabin area.

Several explosions sounded as I dragged us along, away from the danger.

But before we had reached a safe distance, the aircraft behind us blew up, sending fire and shrapnel shooting past our ears.

The shockwave knocked the two of us to the ground, and I believe I was hit by some sort of debris, though my memory about the event end when I hit the muddy soil.