AN -While it's not necessary to read my other Thunderbird 2086 stories to follow these vignettes, following them in order might fill in some gaps as they are intertwined. They do not follow either the production or airing sequence. I have rearranged the 17 episodes I have to suit my own purpose and the thread linking all my stories in this universe. If anyone has the remaining 7 episodes or knows where I can view them, please let me know.

Dialogue is taken directly from the episodes. I'm not sure who it actually belongs too or if it's even in copyright still. Situations not seen in the original are all of my own making. I've just taken out the characters, dusted them off and used them for my own purpose.

'Watch out everyone,' Dylan advised. On his control panel, indicator lights for TB 2, 3 and 4 demonstrated an open com. 'Wave front building,' Captain Beyda couldn't take the time to manually check his team mates whereabouts. Hoping they were safe, Dylan's mind strayed momentarily to Skipper. The kid could be a right royal pain in the backside, but he'd hate to see anything happen to Commander Simpson's family. 'This looks like the biggest one yet. Get ready for it,' pausing, he watched the monitor as the wave swept closer, 'here it comes.'

'It's right on top of me,' Kallan informed the others, fighting to control TB-13.

She'd heard Dylan's warning, anticipating the small craft about to be buffeted by the sever current. The strength of the whirlpool escalated beyond her expectations, increasing her need to concentrate. In the maelstrom, she missed the sound of sheering metal as her transmitter tore away from the vehicle. It soon became the least of Captain Kallan James' problems.

'I'm caught in the undertow,' she informed the rest of the team in a clipped tone, 'it's pulling me down. I can't get control.'

Still unafraid, Kallan jostled the yoke. She'd trained for this, spending hours in the simulator for the entire complement of ocean going Thunderbird vessels. Nothing had beaten her yet. Determination reinforced her resolve. This storm wouldn't get the better of her. Little did she know, the other Thunderbirds had no idea of her current predicament.

For his part, Grant had a monumental battle on his hands. A ship broke loose from its moorings as he attempted to rescue the remaining civilians. Ramming into the rear quarter panel, he'd been force deploy TB 15 and 16 to hold off the curser. The rescue continued as the vortex approached. Barely closing the front doors of TB-3, a giant wave they all been expecting finally rose behind his vehicle. JJ and Jesse made the link up on the fly, escaping the wave. Dylan, worried about Commander Simpson's brother and his family, took TB-17 to ensure everyone escaped Bubualoo Island.

'The currents are too strong, they're dragging me down,' a note of panic began to fill Kallan's voice. 'Computer malfunction,' she punched the emergency backup. The light stayed red, not even blinking to indicate it might be trying to initiate backup communications. Then it went out. Noting the lack of lights on her panel, she wondered what other systems had been damaged, what she had left to fight the steadily mounting force outside TB-13. Suddenly the yoke she bravely fought tossed her hands aside.

'Time to initiate manual stabilisers,' she said the words, not expecting anyone to hear them. Even to the end, Captain James would follow protocol. When the crash happened, Kallan didn't feel it. Still resisting the best the ocean could throw at her, she flew out of her seat into the consul to her right. The mended bone, the one she'd broken while at the academy, snapped easily under the pressure. Pain lanced through her nervous system. When it reached her brain, the overload caused the world to suddenly become black.

'Dylan, a great job rescuing us,' Skipper raced to his hero. They'd been taken to the medical area and checked over with the rest of the island's survivors. 'We were trapped out there in that cave, now Elise will be just fine.'

'We were lucky,' Dylan used a sever tone, hoping the young boy learnt something from his experience. 'No one was hurt but the flooding destroyed most of the island. It'll be some time before Bubualoo can be restored.'

Wayne Simpson approached. Squeezing his son's shoulder, he spoke to the Thunderbird Captain quietly for a few minutes. Though out the conversation, Dylan remembered the time he visited the island as a cadet. It proved to be a favourite with the Honour Role students while at the academy. He'd even spent time with Kallan, lazing on the beach in an effort to get away from the rigours of exams and other students.

Walking back to the cockpit, Dylan wondered what happened to his friend. Kallan seemed to know just when to appear on the secondary screen in the main cabin. He'd bet, after the commander gave them their orders to complete the rescue, she have a word or two to say to the boys about leaving her behind once again.

'All right team,' Simpson didn't disappoint, his image materializing above Dylan's head the moment he sat down on his couch, 'you're to drop off the people at the medical base in Sydney. Then fly to Thunderbird 6 to monitor operations.'

'Right commander,' Jesse acknowledged the new orders, 'we're on our way.'

'Commander,' Dylan interrupted before Captain Rigel could reach for the controls and change course. He felt a sudden apprehension for his friend. 'Have you heard from Kallan?'

'Captain James transferred to TB-13 to do a sweep of the coast,' Grant remembered, a giant hand coming to rest on his chin. I thoughtful expression on his face, he considered her last communication. 'Come to think of it, she mentioned something about the currents.'

'TB-4 this is TB-2, do you copy,' Jesse used his professional voice in an attempt to locate their missing team member. Static their only response, he tried again. 'Thunderbird four, come in.'

'Something's wrong,' Dylan stood up, he remembered feeling this helpless once before. 'It's not like Kallan not to answer. I think she's in trouble.'

'I agree,' Commander Simpson considered his options.

'I'm going to do a flyby of her last location,' Jesse offered, his hands on the stick.

Beside him, JJ worked his navigation station to complement the search. 'Scanning the ocean floor for TB-4,' JJ hunched over his monitor. 'Got it,' he read out the exact location three minutes later. 'Bay door is open. I can't locate TB-13.'

'TB-13 isn't transmitting,' Jesse confirmed, 'even on the emergency channel. The ocean floor is too deep to scan with any accuracy at this altitude.'

'Getting closer,' Grant agreed, 'won't help. We need use the sonar equipment on TB-4. It's designed for mapping the deep water terrain. It should be able to locate the lost sub.'

'Permission to board TB-4,' Dylan requested, 'and start the search.'

'Granted,' Simpson nodded, 'the rest of you drop those people off and get to TB-6 as quickly as possible. Good luck gentlemen.'

Grant watched the very subtle emotions cross Dylan's face. They hadn't been a team very long, but the bonds they'd started to form were strong. Something in the conversation at the end of the last mission and now this display hinted at a deeper connection than friendship between his youngest Captains. Aware they attended the academy in the same year, and their first posting together still didn't explain their almost intimate interactions.

'Where are you, Kallan,' Dylan muttered, now at the controls of her vehicle. He started a sweep pattern, using the sonar intensifier. Each minute ticked down without a ping, forcing his apprehension a notch higher.

'Ping…ping…ping,' the sound sent a surge of elation and adrenalin through Dylan's body. Changing course slightly, he came to rest above the wreck of a pleasure craft, its metallic hull the source. Sighing, he returned to his appointed task.

'Found anything yet,' Grant requested, obviously worried after they'd dropped their injured passengers in Sydney.

'No,' Dylan returned shortly, 'I'm going to move into deeper water. Maybe the current carried TB-13 off course.'

'Let us know when you find her,' JJ said all his trademark humour gone.

'We'll contact you again when we reach TB-6,' Grant signed off as the linked vehicle picked up speed for exit trajectory.

'Let's just hope it's soon,' Dylan muttered under his breath, returning his attention to the scope before him.

Sweat trickled down her face, the salt stinging the open wound on her forehead. Managing to open her eyes, Kallan found the cabin eerily quiet. A few emergency lights illuminated the space in a soft red glow.

'This,' she spoke to relive her mounting tension, 'can't be good.'

Trying to move toward the control panel, Kallan's arm let her know she been hurt. Picking herself up off the floor, she reclaimed her seat by sliding into it. Gritting her teeth, Captain James reached for the first aid kit. Moving slowly to reduce the pain, she finally managed to apply a makeshift splint and swallow several analgesic tablets. Eyeing the board before her, Kallan had to wait for the medication to kick in before she attempted to fix the emergency beacon.

Rolling her head back to rest on her couch, she closed her eyes, hoping the explosion of pain would subside soon. Not sure how much time passed, or if she'd fallen asleep, her arm and head felt distinctly better.

Working one handed would be difficult but she didn't have a choice if she wanted to be rescued any time soon. Unsure if her scrubbers still worked, she began to worry about the oxygen content in the cabin. TB-13 didn't have a universal airlock, which meant she'd have to suit up, which would be effectively impossible in her current condition or wait until the team realised she'd gone missing. Neither choice pleased her so she began the arduous task of fixing the emergency beacon.

'Grant, Commander,' Dylan's elated cry accompanied his image as he opened a channel. 'Kallan's just initiated her locator, ETA four minutes to her current position.'

'Swoop and scoop, Captain Beyda,' Simpson ordered. 'TB-13 has been down for at least thirty minutes. Kallan's backup power will be running low, as will her air supply. I don't want to be training a new team member anytime soon.'

Agreeing, Dylan allowed desperation to colour his words. 'Kallan, come in Kallan. This is TB-4 approaching your location. Please indicate if you can hear me.'

He could see the small yellow craft lying dormant in the bottom of the ocean. Cursing up beside the vehicle, he opened the bay doors and extended the grappling arm. Now safely inside the lager sub, Captain Beyda left the command centre to assess the damage for himself.

'Well, Hotshot,' Kallan used the old name from their academy days as he opened the airlock and entered, 'it took you long enough to miss me.'

Noticing the splint, Dylan didn't say a word. Helping her to her feet, he supported Kallan to TB-4's main cabin and her command couch. 'You up to piloting your girl home, sweetheart,' he took a rare moment to tease, returning with his own version of a nick name.

'Oh,' Kallan's smile didn't reach her pain filled eyes, 'I thought I'd watch to see how you controlled my baby. Remember, she prefers to be handled with gentle hands. Think you can manage that.'

'Let's get you home, Kallan,' Dylan acknowledged how much the loss of control cost his friend. As he moved past her, he lent down and placed a consoling kiss on her golden locks. He'd accomplished the same action years ago in the middle of the dormitory hall at the academy.

'Dylan,' Kallan used his name as a warning.

'Do you think it's broken, again,' he pointed to the arm, hand returning to fire up TB-4's main engines and start them on the homeward journey. When she nodded and closed her eyes, Dylan made the call any of the team dreaded. 'TB-4 to HQ.'

'Simpson here,' the commander acknowledged.

'I have Captain James aboard,' Dylan informed, although his superiors gaze already summed up the situation. 'We're returning to Arcology, ETA ten minutes. You might need EMT on standby in dry dock. Kallan's got facial contusions, possible concussion and a broken arm.'