The Oldest Tracy

Thunderbirds FanFiction

Characters: OC, Scott, Alan, John

Summary: Jeff Tracy finally gets his daughter and it turns out she is his oldest too. Older twin sister to Scott Tracy, Carmina "Mina" Lisette Tracy, is Jeff Tracy's pride and joy, but that did not stop him from trying to get another daughter, but he still ends up with four more sons. Carmina is brilliant and bold, but does being the oldest mean you do not have to deal with the "Motherhens" that are the Tracy Brothers? Find out.

A.N: Most of the story will be written in 1st person as Carmina, but other parts might be 3rd person and sticking to a certain character. Just look before. Thank you.

Also I have only watched the movie and some of the characters backgrounds might be different then what you have watched or read before. I hope they still make sense. Thank you. I changed wording from the movie to fit my perspective on the Thunderbirds. Which I have also seen through other FanFiction authors.

P.S. You already know this but I do not own the Thunderbirds, just my own character.

Chapter 1: The Calm before the Storm

(1st Person - Carmina)

Being Jeff Tracy's only daughter has it's good times, it's annoying times, and it is just plain weird some times. Today would be one of those weird ones. With five younger brothers, my life is not the easiest. I want to look after them like older siblings do, but them being boys and not just any boys, Tracy boys, they just will not let me.

That being said, my second youngest brother, Gordon, decided to prank my twin brother, Scott. It did not work out in Gordon's favor. The prank failed and Gordon ended up in the pool, but not on his own will. It was a good chuckle to watch though. So I just continued to sit on the patio chairs watching my younger brothers, but then I remembered the new book John recommended me so I tried to read again. I had gone outside since the weather on Tracy Island was being especially nice today and I wanted to breath it in and of course, while reading a good book. I may be twins with the dark haired ex-pilot, but I am more like the star-gazing platinum blonde younger brother, John. That does not mean that Scott and I do not get along. We have our differences, but when it comes down to the end, we figure out the difference and come to turns. He usually looses since he knows my idea is more intuitive. He is the logical person surprisingly and I am the gut-feeling go getter. Kind of like my youngest brother Alan. Him and I were very similar and that is what makes me afraid. In recent years, everyone but John was not seeing the real Alan. He was failing his classes because they were too easy and he could not focus and the only reason he blew up the lab was because one of his past bullies tripped Alan into combining the wrong chemicals. Which is why he immediately told everyone to leave the lab. Without his quick intuition, people could have gotten seriously hurt. However, only John and I can see that. Not even my father listens clearly to Alan's side. It hurts me and I can see it in Alan's eyes every time he returns home. I just hope something will change.

After reading the same page four times in the past five minutes, I decided to go back inside. Plus the boys were being too loud again. I decided to go check up on my father. He should have been talking with John up on Thunderbird 5. I walked into his office to find him chatting with

John. My father saw me and spoke, "Carmina, what brings you here?"

"The others were being too loud once again and I couldn't finish my book. I probably read the same page over twenty times."

John laughed up, "And that is why I like it up here. I can get some good reading in. So, did another one of Gordon's pranks fail?"

I laughed, "Yup. I wish Gordon would learn not to prank Scott. He doesn't go near me, but I think he learned his lesson when we were younger." We all laughed at the memories of the time Gordon decided it was a good idea to put all the alarm clocks in my room, on my bed, and set them to five in the morning. All of my family members know I am not a morning person, so when those alarms went off I just knew who it had been. I got payback as well. Let's just say, twelve-year-old Gordon was not happy. It even made him hate Marshmallow Fluff on anything he ate. Yes, those were the good times.

Then my father asked me, "John said that there were some repairs that he needed help with. Do you want to go up and join him for a couple days or so? His rotation is almost up and you are scheduled right after him."

I smiled, "Any way to get away from Tracy Island and do something is my kind of plan."

My father and brother smiled. They knew that I gave up the government positions that were offered to me after graduating from University. Turns out I am a super polyglot, which means I can learn many languages and become fluent in them faster than the average person. Which works in favor for International Rescue since we deal with "International" problems and need translators who can help make the rescues go smoother. I usually do not go on the rescues unless it is a major disaster since I have the same condition my mother had, but a worse version of it. I get the terrible migraines and it causes problems in my lungs and sometimes my heart. It just depends on how serious the attack is. It also does not help that I now spend most of my time in space. This make my immune system even worse, but it does not mean I can not help International Rescue. My middle brother Virgil, the youngest doctor I know, and my father's scientist, doctor, and friend of the family, Brains, helped figure out a way for me to still be safe. It's nice, but it also means I get "motherhened" by my younger siblings.

To interrupt my rambling thoughts, my father started talking to me again, "Good. Scott is going to bring you up as soon as your ready. Then when he returns we have a couple hours or so until someone has to go pick up Alan and Fermat from school."

"Darn it. I completely forgot Alan was already coming home. I thought it was another week. I must have marked it wrong in my calendar. I wanted to spend this break with him. I rarely get to see him since he always comes home when I have my rotation on five."

John spoke from the video chat, "You don't have to come earlier than planned, you know that Mina, right?"

"I do realize that John, but that is fine. Maybe this spring break Alan can try doing more International Rescue work and join me on 'Five'," I looked at my father at the end of that. Alan was already fourteen and just because he is the youngest, does not mean that he should be left out of the "Family Business."

However my father does not reason with us and "us" I mean John and I. Like I rambled before others believe Alan is too childish and does not know how to learn. The problem is that they only see half of Alan. John and I are the ones who video chat with him the most and he tells us how he is trying to get better in school, but he feels the work is too easy and does not want to pay attention. John and I both know that feeling. Alan is just like me, like John, and especially like our mother. We have her smarts, intuition, and her migraines. Surprisingly we also have the blonde hair and blue eyes. Only mine are like Scott's, ocean blue rather than baby blue. Which is one of reasons our father has trouble putting Alan in rescues. He does not want to put his "baby" in danger. Alan is most like our mother and with the five year age gap between him and Gordon, it makes our father worry even more. It makes myself and Scott worry as well since we pretty much raised him when our father almost worked himself to death, but I see the other sides of Alan. Scott does not.

Well there I go on a ramble again and my father interrupted my thoughts once again, "No, after what happened at his last school, who knows what has happened at this school."

I did not miss the look of disappointment in my father's eyes. If only he listened to Alan's words and not the reports from the school.

"But Father, Alan is smart and if you just talk to him more, maybe there wouldn't be so much conflict between the two of you."

He gave me a stern look, "I understand that Carmina, but Alan does not want to listen to the truth," my father replied.

I mumbled under my breath, "He's not the only one."

"What was that?" Maybe my father's hearing is not fading away.

"Nothing Father, I am going to go get ready. I will see you soon John and Father can you let Scott know I will meet him in 'Three's' hanger?" I stated quickly and left before my father or brother could say anything more.

I did hear the slight chuckle from the both of them.

Time Skip — Scott has already taken Carmina to Thunderbird Five —

(1st Person - Carmina)

I helped John finish most of the simple repairs, mainly the one's he could not figure out. He played some music in the background as well. It was so comforting to be in Space. No noisy brothers or constant fights from brothers. Just peace and quiet for most of the time. I finished the last repair and told John to go rest.

It was maybe an hour later when I manning the desk when I heard the distress call go off. The call was coming from Russia, I immediately answered in Russian, "This is International Rescue, how may we assist you?"

A rough Russian voice answered, "One of my oil rigs caught fire... we can not control... the fire... please help..." The call was going in and out. I immediately tracked the location and hit the klaxon to alert the the others on Tracy Island.

I replied to the man in Russian, "I have your location, we will soon be there to help."

"...please hurry..." The connection was lost or was interfered with weather. Something was not right.

I was notified of the activation of Mission Control on the island and was met with Brains on video chat, "What is the sit... .. problem?"

"Major oil rig in Russia. I have already sent the coordinates to Thunderbird One and Two," I replied.

Brains nodded and repeated the message to my brothers and father who replied the Thunderbird motto, "FAB."

I started to look into more information on the area. In the background of Thunderbird Five I could hear John waking up and rushing out to the other chair. "Easy there John. It's a major oil rig in Russia. Thunderbirds One and Two are already on their way."

"FAB," he replied. "What's the status of the rig?"

"The owner of the rig said a fire started and that they can not control it. I looked at one of the international news station networks and the rig is almost under total collapse. The connections are not working well today. It might have to deal with the weather," I informed the blond astronaut. He nodded in my direction and reviewed the situation.

A message came from Russia again, the owner frantically called out in Russian, "There are six men still... trapped!" The connection was going in and out. I tried to respond but the connection was lost. I hit the panel out of frustration. What was going on here?

I looked at John and I knew his face said the same thing as my strike to the panel. The Thunderbirds needed to get their fast. With these back connections, we did not have a clear picture on the situation. John contacted our brothers and father, "Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird Two, What is your arrive time? The scanners are not working because of the storm and we cannot locate the workers."

Virgil responded from Thunderbird Two, "Thunderbird Five this is Operative Four, Almost fifteen minutes out and Operative Two is the same. Thunderbird One may be fast, but he left later than us. He was working on one of the inspections and needed to finish." I cursed in my hear. Scott was usually first on the scene.

I checked the weather situation of the emergency location and it was heavily down pouring with strong storms. That was going to be a problem. I tried to bring the transmission from Russia back and after a couple of tries, I successfully got the connection back and spoke in Russian, "Sir... Sir.. Can you hear me?" I got a gruff but frantic reply, "We have confirmed that Thunderbird One and Two are almost at your destination. We apologize for the communication failures."

The owner thanked me and seemed to have calmed down.

Trying to figure out the communication problem I contacted Brains at Mission Control, "Thunderbird Five to Mission Control, our communications is not working correctly and neither are the visuals. Do know the cause?"

A flustered Brains came on video chat, "Not yet est..esta...confirmed. The island is also have pr..prob...difficulties."

I nodded to him, "Okay, thank you and we will keep you informed. We might be able to get the rigs schematics. It might help us."

"FAB," Brains responded. During missions where I am not at Mission Control, Brains takes over, but most of the control happens on Five. Brains is a good strategist, but in the family and friends, I have become the strongest. Which is why I like being on Five. It's systems are better equipped than Mission Control. Except for this mission. It is also the reason John is on the side and I have taken over command. John is one of the best to fix and maintain Five, while I can utilized it features the most.

John pulled up the news network again to check how the situation was on the ground, the corespondent was notifying the public of the situation, "... An emergency call went out to the Thunderbirds just a few minutes ago. They should be here any moment now... And here they are!"

"Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird Two, please tell me you have located the trapped workers? Our scanners are still not working correctly," John asked. This situation was different for us, normally we could figure out where the people who needed rescuing were but the scanners were not working correctly. This could mean that something in our systems was outdated or something bigger was interfering with the communications. Luckily John and I were able to get the schematics of the rig. Everything was too close in proximity making the cost of the rig cheaper, but making safety hazards higher. No wonder the rig was going up in smokes faster than it should.

"Affirmative Thunderbird Five, the scanners are working and Thunderbird One has received the coordinates, we just need Operative Two's visual confirmation," Gordon replied.

"Thunderbird Two this is Thunderbird One, I have visual south column. They're trapped on an inspection platform," Operative Two or Scott replied. Our Operative numbers were from oldest to youngest with our father being Commander. Since I was a few minutes older than Scott, I was Operative One, but when our is not on the scene, Scott is Field Commander. If Scott and I are both on the scene, depended on the situation our father tells us who is Field Commander. I know up to seven languages, so having me on the scene helps, but also being in Thunderbird Five helps since I can communicate the fastest with the people in danger.

Now getting back to the scene, our father responds, "FAB, we'll take it from here."

Finally visuals came up on Thunderbird Five screen's from both One and Two. The scene was chaotic. Constant blasts from the oil rig putting the Thunderbird's and the workers in danger. I was able establish a constant contact with One and Two. Our father's voice rang out, "Operative Two, get out of there! That tower is coming down."

"Got it!" From the visuals you can see Scott trying to maneuver out of the tower's blast. Thunderbird One is hit slightly and thrown near the water.

"Thunderbird One, any damage?"

"Negative Commander," Scott moved One back into position over the rig, but their position was in good view.

"Thunderbird Two to Thunderbird One, the approach angle is no good. I'm gonna have to swing her around. Commander to Thunderbird Five, can you check the approach angle," my father asked us.

John and I looked over the rigs location and the schematics again. During this time Scott responded to our father piloting Thunderbird Two, "Watch for the wind shear Thunderbird Two."

Our father chuckled, "You know I was watching for wind shear when you were still wearing diapers."

I held my laugh and John and I confirmed our father's new location point, I contacted him, "Thunderbird Five to Commander, we have sent you the confirmed coordinates of your knew approach angle. The rig's schematics are the worst. Everything is too adjacent to each other causing more of a explosive impact. I have sent Operative Four the schematics for a closer look."

"FAB," my father responded and John and my attention were brought back to the visuals of the rig. More explosions were activating and getting closer to One and Two. Soon a large blast exploded on top of Two. "Woah, hold on!"

Static came though the communications again and John and I waited for another response which was soon filled with Scott joking again, "Who needs diapers now?"

Our father chuckled and so did Virgil. That confirmed they were fine. Our father called out, "Commander to Operative Five, are you full gear in rescue platform position?"

The copper head responded, "Confirmed, ready to drop." A few seconds later he joked, "Open them up! Here we go. Rescue platform's on it's way."

"Operative Five, how's it going?"

"It's looking good, Commander." The platform was lowered near the workers. "Okay, I've got a visual. Hold it there." The platform stoped moving and Gordon worked on the target restraints. "Targets locked. Firing rescue lines." He turned on his speaker com in the helmet, "Come on guys, hook them up! We gotta get you out of here." Gordon contacted our father, "Operative Five to Commander, we are ready, all workers are secure."

My father replied, "Alright, let's haul them out of there." Then started to reverse the thrust of Thunderbird Two. "Okay, let's bring them home." The visual shows the platform moving up with the workers attacked to safety lines.

Everything was working smoothly, until One and Two's warning signals went of. I checked the signal confirmations and it showed stronger heat fluctuations on the rig near the workers location. "Thunderbird Five to Operative Four, signals read stronger heat fluctuations, be warned of more explosion."

"FAB, Thunderbird Five. Checking safely measures." Virgil responded while our father continued to pilot Thunderbird Two. Normally, Thunderbird two was controlled by Virgil since it was his bird, but when the Commander is out, he takes control of the piloting. Scott and our father are the best pilots, with me tying second with Virgil as of now.

The wind and the smaller explosions caused the rescue wires to move around a lot and the workers collided with each other many time. My father turned his speaker-link on, "Whoa, sorry, boys. Hold on tight, here we go!" He changed his link to Gordon, "How you doing there Operative Five?"

"Never better Commander!" Gordon spoke to the workers, "Almost there boys!" The visual shows Gordon successfully getting the men into Thunderbird Two's hatch.

My father spoke to Gordon, "Nice work. Help those men to the medical wing. Operative Four is already there in position. If the men need more help, contact him."

"FAB," Gordon responded.

I looked at the situation of the rig. Things were becoming worse and we needed to fix the problem immediately, "Thunderbird Five to Commander please confirm the start of knockdown procedure. The rig can not take any more explosions, if more are erupt, it could cause a major oil spill."

"Confirmed Thunderbird Five. Commander to Thunderbird One, commence knockdown procedure."

Scott responded, "FAB, Commander." He worked the systems of Thunderbird One, "Lining up target... Fire."

The specially made coolant missile, that would take the oxygen from the area it impacts, hit the rig with perfection. My father congratulated Scott, "Bulls-eye. Outstanding shot." This made us all laugh as Scott rejoiced with excitement. "All right boys. Let's take these babies home." They started on their journey when my father contacted us, "Commander to Thunderbird Five, can you locate the nearest Hospital and inform them of our arrival?"

During the knockout phase, I already started to searching for the nearest Hospital and already made contact with them. Virgil, being the fastest medic and doctor, had already sent me his diagnosis on the workers and I was able to relay that to the Hospital. During this time I also had John look up the local times of America New England time and realized it was getting close to Alan's pickup time. My father and the others would not have time to make it so he contacted Lady Penelope who was currently in Washington D.C. at a conference. She would have enough time to make it. Parker had gotten back to us and confirmed picking up Alan and Fermat. I relayed information to my father, "Thunderbird Five to Commander, coordinates are already set in new flight plan for Two and One. Hospital has been informed and been given diagnostics on injured workers."

"Coordinates confirmed. Excellent work as always Operative One. I wouldn't have expecting anything less. Thunderbirds Two and One starting new flight plan. Should return at island time 1500 hours."

I smiled at my father's words and contacted Scott, "Thunderbird Five to Operative Two, confirm new flight plan and correct coordinates."

"Flight plan and coordinates are confirmed."

"Good work out there Operative Two."

"Same to you and Operative Three."

John laughed and responded, "It's not like I did much this mission."

I chuckled, "Well you made finding the information faster then when I am alone. So you did help out... Just a little though."

That made anyone on the com-link's laugh.

I put a Operative wide-link on, "Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird One and Two, central link is active and operation level has changed from Red to Yellow. Please be remember civilians on board and remember protocol. Thunderbird Five will commence stand-by mode. Link will be severed after confirmation of Operatives. Last notification, Lady P has confirmed pickup of young members. Time of arrival is island time 1500 hours."

They all responded, "FAB."

Thunderbirds One and Two started their new flight plan while Thunderbird Five's systems changed to Level Yellow. John and I started to log the information from today's mission. I made sure the company that owned the oil rig will be informed of the damages and would be put under supervision. That oil rig may look like it was sanctioned, but the danger those men were put in was too high. Along with the possible outcome of an oil spill.

I told John to check the status of the Thunderbirds and see if any major damage was taken. The birds might need some new paint jobs, but that was not too bad. I looked over at John as I finished the report to the Oil Rig Union and the Russian translation, which might be needed. I could see John's shoulders start to relax more, but then I remembered something "John has Lady Penelope confirmed pickup of Alan and Fermat?"

He check the logs, "Confirmation is clear. They were picked up by FAB 1 at New England time 1200 hours. Location shows they are on time."

"Good, thank you for contacting Lady Penelope. I didn't want Alan and Fermat to think we forgot about them."

He laughed, "Who knows, they were probably watching from the news cast. The timing could have easily allowed him to watch the rescue."

"You are probably right. Alan always did like watching the rescues. Can you please make sure the reports and correct? I want to take a shower and rest a little. I'm feeling a little light headed," I stood too fast from my position and the low gravity on the station caused me to fly to the ceiling. I forgot to turn on my gravity boots and my light headed state made me forget where I was. Thunderbird Five's system has limited gravity mode when fixing repairs we turn it on to higher setting but it takes power out of the system, so it isn't used often. Since the quarters also have that system in place and that rules all the time. Station wide would put too much of a stress on the system. Plus it has a more likely chance to cause accidents. So during times of low gravity which can cause our body's to move or bottles and tools, we use specially made boots. John and I worked together to create boots that would allow movement on the station without having to activate the gravity system.

John quickly came to my side and stopped me from hitting the ceiling, "Woah, easy there. Are you ok Mina?"

I smiled at the nickname, "Yeah, just tired. I'm fine, but please keep watch and do the final checks. Plus watch out for any natural disasters that might occur. That storm wasn't normal and...," He cut me off.

"I understand Mina and I will get the checks done. You just rest up. If you overwork yourself again you are going to end up with a migraine and that might start and attack. Just rest. I'm fine and can handle myself."

"Sorry, I'll get going now. If Dad contacts us please wake me up. Plus I want to try to video chat with Alan." I apologized and John nodded in agreement while I moved toward the quarters. I entered the quarters and shed my Thunderbirds uniform. The white and purple flight suit fit like a glove, but I needed to breathe. I put into the automatic washer and dryer so it would be clean when I finished my shower. On Five, operatives were required to wear flight suits at all times in case something went wrong and we had to evacuate fast. I did not mind and neither did John. We spent most of our time up here so the flight suits became like a second skin to us. Plus they were comfortable.

As I finished my shower, I turned the sonic dryer on. I was not having wet, long, floating around. Sometimes I wonder why I keep my hair to down my back, but then I remembered of the years in high school and I short hair. Even though it is platinum blonde, people kept calling me Scott. That made me stop with the short hair for good. My hair finished drying and I braided it down my back. It was straight with some curls here and there, unlike my mother's or Alan's hair. Alan always had cute curls that he hated so much. It's why he reminds us so much of our mother and why our father is so protective of him.

I got into my bunk and fell asleep wondering what could make this Spring Break any different then the last?

Well what do you think? Any good then the other one's? Let me know in the comments and follow the story if you want! Thank you!