Disclaimer: None of the characters in Thunderbirds belongs to me. They are the property of Gerry Anderson and his affiliates. The unrecognized characters do belong to me, though.

AN: Inspired by watching Apollo 13 in science. This is set pre-Thunderbirds, but you might recognize some characters. It made sense to use them, instead of making new ones up.

Before I forget, this is movieverse, with the exception of Josie Tracy. The ages of the boys are as follows

Scott- 16 years old

John- 15 years old

Virgil- 13 years old

Gordon- 11 years old

Alan- 6 years old

Hope you enjoy. :)

Chapter One- Telephones and Trouble

Jeff Tracy pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed wearily. He rubbed a hand down his face in frustration. The calculations couldn't be right. They just couldn't.

Tracy Aeronautics, Jeff's newly found business, was in trouble. Financial trouble. The business hadn't sold as many goods and services as Jeff would have liked and the bank bills and loans were piling up. He and his business were officially in the red.

Jeff's stormy grey eyes swivelled across his desk, and fell on an unopened envelope. 'Great,' he thought sarcastically. 'A tax bill. Just what I need right now.'

Ignoring the tax letter, Jeff flipped the pages of his accounting book back to the beginning, and picked up his calculator, laboriously inserting the right numbers.

The phone rang, distracting him. Again sighing wearily, Jeff placed his calculator down, and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

There was a pause.

"I see."

And there was another pause.

"I understand."

There was a long gap, where Jeff picked up his pen and began writing important notes onto his pad.

"Yes sir. I'll be there tomorrow."

Excitedly, he put the phone back in the cradle. Hurriedly, he ran down the stairs, out of the office and into his car.

'Stuff the paperwork. This is much more exciting.'

"Homework; create a minimum of a eight thousand five hundred word report on one group of astronauts that have flown into space in the past century." Mr. Clarkson, Scott's physics teacher called over the ruckus of a teen filled classroom. "Include at least three pictures and make sure you cite your sources. It's due in two months from today by nine am. Late entries will be an automatic fail. This will be recorded on your report, so make it good." Clarkson picked up his pile of marking. "Class dismissed."

As soon as Mr. Clarkson was out of earshot, one of Scott's friends, Tom, let out a groan, as the group of friends walked down the crowded corridor. "Can you believe he's making us do that stupid assignment?!"

"I know!" Scott agreed, as they headed towards their locker. "That's gonna take all night!"

"What are you complaining about?" Tom asked incredulously. "This must be the easiest assignment for you to complete. You just have to write about your dad and his exploration days."

"I'm not doing my dad!" Scott cried out in outrage, as he fiddled with the combination lock. "Anyway, that would just look suss."

"No," Jack, Scott's other friend corrected, as he leaned casually against the locker, and flicked brown hair out of his eyes. "It would be smart."

"I am not writing about my father." Scott stated adamantly, slamming the locker door shut, emphasizing his point. "Case closed."

"Mother, I'm home!" Jeff called out.

"Jeff, honey, is everything alright?" Josie called out. "You're not meant to be back for another few hours."

"Everything's fine, Mother," Jeff reassured her by pecking her cheek gently. "If anything, it's better than fine."

Josie narrowed her eyes in suspicion. When Jeff had left earlier in the day, he was grumpy and frustrated. Now he was light hearted and happy. She eyed him up and down, and sniffed the air. "Jefferson Grant Tracy! You know I don't approve of you drinking! You may be nearly forty years old, but you are not old enough for me to not spank you with a wooden spoon! You'd better have a good explanation for this!"

"Mother, it was one celebratory drink." Jeff explained.

"Probably a massive shot of whiskey." Josie sniped.

"Mother, please, just let me finish." Jeff waited for Josie to nod in approval. "You know the prospectus space mission onboard Orbita 13?"

"How could I not! That mission is over hyped. Why, I can't even walk down a street without someone talking about it!"

Jeff smiled. "NASA called. They want me to command Orbita 13."

Scott poured over a thick encyclopaedia at the school library, during his free period. "This is impossible. There are so many space missions to choose from!"

"Just ask your dad, for crying out loud." Jack muttered quietly, but not quietly enough to escape the scandalized looks that came his way.

"We've been through this before! No friggin' way am I asking dad. Hell would freeze over, thaw out, freeze over, defrost and freeze again before I go to him."

"Swallow your pride, Scott," Tom drawled over from a computer. "We all know that's the only thing that's stopping you from asking is pride."

Scott shut the book violently, looked at the clock mounted on the wall, and threw the book into his bag. "Dammit! I nearly forgot! I've gotta go pick the brats up. I'll see you tomorrow."

"What about Virgil and John?" Jack asked, lounging in his chair.

"John has track today."

"Virgil?"

Scott snickered. "Brats included him."

Scott pushed open the door to home, only to see his father filling the frame.

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" Alan cried out ecstatically, blue eyes wide in excitement, as he ran towards his father, with his arms outstretched. "You're home!"

"That I am, son. That I am." Jeff swung Alan onto his shoulder, blowing a raspberry on Alan's belly, making his son giggle. He looked to his other sons. "You're home late. How was school?"

"Scotty forgot about us." Gordon pouted at his father, and then glared bloody murder at his eldest brother.

"Yeah!" Virgil agreed. "He left us standing in the rain and mud!"

"So, Mr. Perfect isn't perfect at all!" John sidled up to Jeff, and slapped his hands to his head. "The universe is ending! What are we going to do?!"

Scott narrowed his eyes so that his eyebrows knitted together. "Don't start, John." He growled. "I've had a bad enough day as it is. Why aren't you at track?"

"Ah, Mr. Perfect isn't a genius either." John teased. "It's raining. Track was cancelled."

Scott's eyebrows drew closer together. "That jibe," he turned to face John. "Was uncalled for."

"Boys," Jeff raised his voice, stopping the incipient fight. "I have something to tell you."

AN: I'm still working on my other story. This just popped into my mind, and wouldn't stop bugging me until I wrote it. Please review.