Scott circled overhead as he watched Miku land, the damaged Corsair approaching steadily and at a pace that dragged every moment into one of shifting his weight nervously on his ejector seat, and feeling droplets of sweat trickling down his spine under his flight suit. Consciously, he willed the stubby little plane to land safely, and found himself muttering quietly at every twitch of wings or rudder. 
When the tires finally kissed the hard surface of the runway, he let out a whoosh of breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, and came around into the landing pattern. 
Three green and locked, and he made a perfectly conventional approach, landing with not a problem at all, in distance enough to make the first turnoff. Fast-taxiing to the parking area, the blue-grey patten Corsair rolled into position beside Kate's plane, and as soon as the ladder extended and locked and the canopy motored open, he scrambled out and down, jogging over to the side of the pair.
"She's right," he added as he overheard Kate's words. "None of us were expectin' that, and you made a damn good landing with damage. Believe me, I fly one of these guppy-mouthed stubborn pigs, so I know how hard that damn landing is. That was excellent flying".