Scootaloo dropped her scooter in the sparse grass by the side of the road. After circling the huge machine a few times, she found a spot low enough to jump up onto the wing. She pulled off her saddlebag and laid out several wrenches and screwdrivers on the riveted metal surface next to the fuselage, then lifted up an engine cowling behind the massive propeller. There were huge metal cylinders, lots of pipes and hoses, and bundles of wires. She wasn’t quite sure what she was looking at, but nothing looked obviously broken.

She turned toward the tail and stepped up to the cockpit. Careful to avoid the locations labeled “NO STEP,” she leaned over to peer into the interior. The seat looked comfortable enough, if a bit too big. Her purple eyes scanned over the various dials and gauges before settling on one labeled “FUEL” with a needle pointing toward “E.”

Scootaloo grinned.