'What you are saying,' Helios Del Mare spoke in heavily accented standard coloured with astonishment, 'you want to rebuild Jeff Tracey's Thunderbird craft?'

He'd followed the passions of Commander Gregory Simpson closely. The man came to his attention seven years ago, when he'd first proposed an élite rescue squad to the world council. Believing the bureaucrats to be short sighted the machines and craft that might be needed fuelled Helios's interest. Engineer Del Mare began planning a technical site capable of building the vehicles within two years of hearing the rumours. He'd never considered anything on this scale, as his deep brown eyes displayed.

'Essentially,' Greg nodded pointing to the old fashioned paper blue prints scattered on the table before them, 'yes.' As yet, Helios hadn't taken one of the heirlooms from its protective tube, still stunned at the audacity of the man standing before him. 'With,' Greg offered, 'modifications to bring the vehicles into the twenty first century and cope with our changing technology and living environments.'

'The Federation has given you permission for this undertaking?' Once again the dazed man ignored the blue prints in favour of watching his long time colleague's expressions. Well aware Greg recently increased his agitation for this team, Helios watched and waited, understanding Commander Simpson would have to consult his expertise to carry out such a massive undertaking. 'It is a major project which will tie up C-cores resources for the better part of five years if, and that is a big if, you manage to get funding on the scale you're considering.'

'After the recent disaster in New Zealand,' Greg reported, turning away, one arm crossed over his chest, the other holding his chin, 'and the countless loss of life and property with the sudden and unexpected eruption of Mt Eden, a member of the board recalled my previous petitions. Either I go ahead now with the plan in its entirety or the general support will evaporate.'

'Will this reaction last,' Helios shook his head, knowing how short the public's attention could be, 'until the funding and politics can be arranged? It could take months if not years to get a project this large off the ground.'

'I have six days to remodel Jeff Tracey's Thunderbird machines and present an updated version to a select group of the World Council,' Greg turned his steely gaze on the man, letting him know the pressure he felt at the extremely short time span. 'I am to give an economic estimate for the cost of building, maintaining and operating this rescue service based on what we come up with. Before I can begin to write my proposal, I need you to design the craft.'

'I am honoured you came to me,' Helios smiled, mischief in the back of his chocolate brown eyes. With the intensity of a man on a mission, Greg missed the humour buried deep in the engineer's expression.

'This first step,' the Commander stated, his tone implying determination, 'must be achieved before the horror in New Zealand is forgotten. After I have a conditional go ahead to begin construction, there will be the political and administrative strategic plans to worry about. That, Helios, comes later. Without funding, the Thunderbird craft will never get off the ground.'

'No easy task,' Helios commented with a grunt, considering the logistics. A hand going to his chin, he's gaze once again travelled to his companion. 'Tell me, where did you get original plans? Jeff Tracey and his sons died many years ago, or so it is believed.'

'Let's just call it fate,' Greg glared. Realising Helios wouldn't help until he received some kind of answer, the broad shouldered man sighed warily. 'Jeff Tracey disappeared from the public eye after his son's died. His dreams faded but the plans didn't.'

'He passed the legacy onto another generation,' Helios spoke softly, respectfully, understanding the implicit truths behind the stoic man's resolve. 'It is both a great responsibility and burden.'

Watching the man before him, Commander Greg Simpson's subtle reactions gave the Engineer the answers he sort. Shaking his head, Helios came to realise they were more alike than either cared to admit. Moving quickly, he indicated Greg should stand and scoop the protective containers into his arms. A fire burnt deep in Helios's brown eyes. To be given the unique chance to look upon the technology of Jeff Tracey, unseen for fifty years took the engineer back to his earliest childhood. Involvement in remodelling the machines, Lead Engineer Del Mare couldn't have asked for a better project nor a better man to head up the venture.

'Come, let me take a look at these blueprints,' Helios opened the door. He had a theory Commander Simpson shared more with him than a passion for this team. The time would come when he'd be able to test his notion. 'Not here. We will be more comfortable in my home office. I have a newly developed drawing table. I think these,' indicating the tubes, 'will be the perfect test.'

Leading the way from the public meeting rooms to the officers' private quarters, C-core's Lead Engineer easily negotiated a path through a maze of tunnels. Following, Greg's grey eyes took in every aspect of the newly created research and design centre. He wanted to incorporate some of this equipment into the Thunderbird team's base of operations. Cataloguing the features, he added them to the mental list he kept. The extensive requirements increased the final finance quote meaning he wouldn't get everything he wanted.

'This,' Helios waved an arm above a squat looking table dominating the middle of his private study, 'is my new toy. I created it in my spare time.'

Pointing to one of the scrolls under Greg's arm, Helios muttered, 'open it please.' Placing the blue print on the table, suddenly a three dimensional image of Thunderbird 1 appeared in the air.

'I designed this work station,' Helios informed Greg proudly, 'to turn two dimensional plans into three, including all the technical specifics.' Pointing to the engine room, the engineer stated, 'this model is a 1:1000 replica of the original drawing, taking into account all the small details you might miss on paper or a computer screen. See,' slicing his hand through the image, it cut neatly in two, 'now you see the internal working of the vehicle. It is the engine room that will need the biggest overhaul. This ramjet, it is old fashioned, although the idea is sound. If we add a flux drive capacitor,' as he spoke the computer changed the image to include his improvements, 'here, change this propulsion system to hot ion flow with a rate limiting step and recalibrate the fuel intake system to cope with Cololite. Yes, as I thought, an improvement of 120% without considering some of the new technology we are developing here at C-core.'

'What do you think of the rocket design?' Greg asked, astounded at the speed of Helios's hand and ideas. Personally, he thought this machine needed work to modernise it. In the current form, it wouldn't be as manoeuvrable as he'd like or suitable for the kind of rescue situations he had in mind.

'Tell me your thoughts,' Helios turned, scrutinising the young Commander. At least five years his junior, Greg had that look of someone married to his work. He'd spent long, lonely nights thinking about this project in the hope it would one day come to fruition. 'It is obvious you have some very specific ideas on the vehicles and what they should be able to do. I will need to take this into account when considering the body shape and engine capacity.'

'I see the new Thunderbird 1 as an advanced space shuttle,' closing his eyes, Greg's mind went over his long term objectives and long held dreams. 'It needs to be fast, should be able to carry several smaller vehicles as well as an array of weapons, such as ice and foam bombs for use in extreme environments. It will need lasers for cutting, mechanical arms for grappling, just to name a few improvements. I see TB1's primary role as recognisance. It will determine the extent of the disaster and provide an initial response.'

'I want it to link with Thunderbird 2, increasing propulsion, range and make it an interplanetary craft. Moon Base Omega is under construction as well as the upgrade to the orbiting space station. The linked craft must be able to dock at the space station and any other space habitats we build in the next fifty years. Between Thunderbirds 1 and 2, they should be able house the entire array of specialised machines without having to change pods, return to base or refuel for several days. Besides this, the main cabin should be able to house all five pilots for longer term assignments, while the other vehicles are to have room for a pilot and co-pilot.'

'Very wasteful,' Helios agreed, 'having to change cargo pods or return to base. I do not know why Jeff Tracey designed such an awkward craft. Thunderbird 2 needs much work to incorporate your changes. We will fix this.'

'I like the idea of a smaller rocket ship,' Greg decided, 'but think a ground vehicle would be more suitable to design initially. If that could fit into the combined machine, the team would have everything they needed at the site of the disaster. Of course we would retain a submarine for aquatic missions to be used as an adjunct to the main team.'

'For now,' Helios opened each tube, taking out the three Thunderbird machines he would use as a basis for the new generation, 'we will present only the main four at the council meeting. Thunderbirds 1, 2 and 3 to combine and the submarine, I will need every moment of the five days you have given me.'

'Six,' Greg corrected.

'I will come to Acrology the day before,' Helios tested the water and his theory about Greg's sexual preference, hoping he'd read the situation correctly. 'We will discuss the plans then. Now we work for there is more to do than even you have envisaged I think?'

Unsure if he'd seen the spark of attraction in the engineer's glance, Greg sighed. He'd always questioned his motivation and response to other men, second guessing his intuition. Helios appealed to him and Greg would take up the offer if the older man made it. He'd never been the type to initiate an intimate connection, always waiting, ensuring he'd read the appeal correctly.

Six hours later, the young Commander watched the four craft each take a turn on the three dimensional holographic display. Happy with the designs, they weren't as sleek and sophisticated as he'd have liked. On the other hand, Helios reminded this team would be about practicality and saving lives. The stubby and needle like designs were aerodynamic and sturdy.

'Happy?' Helios asked, the question loaded with innuendo.

Giving the engineer a puzzled look, Greg offered, 'why wouldn't I be. You've managed a minor miracle. I hadn't expected to get this far. I'll be able to start on the financial estimates earlier than I'd thought.'

Nodding, Helios added, 'I have a very good idea of the construction and maintenance costs. But this is for latter.' Patting his stomach, which had been growing for more than an hour, he pushed Greg. 'For now take a moment to commemorate the Thunderbird craft with a drink. Then,' watching from under long lashes, Helios put his feelings on the line, 'you and I go out to dinner and celebrate our achievement.'

Turning his attention to the man, Greg wondered if this were a general invitation. The expression he'd seen before offered something more, intimate. 'I need to be back at Acrology in the morning,' Commander Simpson stated, an edge to his tone.

'Then you stay here tonight, Greg,' Helios asked, his tone disarming but expecting an answer. He touched the other man on the arm. If he'd miss read the situation, the Engineer would soon know. 'We can continue to work on the plans before you go.'

Nodding, Greg had to ask, 'pillow talk, Helios.'

'I think we would both enjoy that,' he offered easily, with a delighted smile. 'Great men often have great passions. Unfortunately, for you and I, our personal passions have always taken a back seat to our public goals. I am married to this place, Greg. For me, C-core is like your Thunderbirds. It takes most of my time and attention.'

'Perhaps,' Greg eyed the man, considering his offer carefully, 'this is all either of us is capable of.'

'I know this,' Helios indicated he meant any relationship between them, 'is all I am capable of. A night here or there, a weekend if I'm lucky enough but always devoted to C-core. Can you accept that?'

Allowing a slightly despondent smile to lift the corners of his mouth, Greg agreed. 'I understand. Perhaps it is why I have failed before.'

'Look to the future, Greg, not the past. Come,' Helios managed to cover his lips with a grin that didn't continue to his eyes. He'd moved into the living room of his quarters, poured a drink and indicated the Commander should sit beside him. Handing one to Greg, he held it up. 'Solute. Now is time to toast all the work we have achieved this afternoon. Tell me about this team you are putting together?'

'I have been looking at candidates within the IRO,' Greg stated. The liquid burnt as it descended into his stomach. It felt good to have a confident, someone to talk to about his dreams. 'So far I have narrowed the list to ten possible contenders.'

'Why only within the IRO?' Helios suddenly saw his job as devil's advocate as much as conspirator on this project.

'The officers have the necessary training and discipline,' Greg explained. 'Most have flight experience. They lack only the training specific to this team.'

'Then you sell yourself short,' Helios remarked. 'The type of individual you need is a little reckless, young, willing to learn and will have at least one degree in an area of speciality. I suggest you look at a young orphan called Dylan Beyda. His father is, or rather was, Harrison Beyda, the space explorer. In spite of his parents early demise, Dylan is about to graduate from Yale with degrees in Astronomy and Quantum Mechanics. He's only just turned twenty two and passed flight school two years ago. He wanted to follow his father into space but crashed his jet. It affected his confidence. Someone like you, Greg, a father figure might be able to bring out his hidden talents.'

'How did you meet this young man?' Greg asked, once again astounded at the level of Helios understanding for this project.

'At a lecture I gave on Quantum Mechanics at Yale last year,' Helios couldn't stop the grin erupting on his face. 'He surprised me with an awkward question. We spoke for more than an hour. Dylan is a talented young man.'

'Any other suggestions?' Greg sounded gruff, an eyebrow rising at the sarcastic question.

'You're going to need an oceanography expert for TB4,' Helios commented.

'And you have just the person?' Once again Commander Simpson took on a curt tone.

'Ever heard of Elijah James?' Helios asked.

'English Oceanology expert,' Greg commented, a sardonic smile covering his lips. 'The man would have to be sixty. I'm hoping for someone slightly younger.'

'His daughter, Kallan, has just finished her university degree in Marine Biology and Engineering,' informed the older man. 'She entered university at the age of sixteen. If you pushed, she could make it to the next intake of the IRO's flight school. Even if you don't include her in your squad, the young woman would make a good IRO officer.'

'Helios,' Greg gave the man a genuine smile and much to his surprise, reached out a hand to place it over the engineers, 'anyone would think you've been considering this for years.'

'About five,' he returned the banter, quickly accepting the contact, 'once I understood the fundamentals of your proposal to the Federation Council. It's one of the reasons I've pushed so hard for this new C-core base. You could not construct the Thunderbird craft at any of the current C-core facilities.'

Placing his now empty glass on the coffee table, Greg shook his head. 'Time to eat, Helios, before you try to ply me with more alcohol and swell my head further. It is good to know I have had supporters working in the background to get this party started. There have been times I've despaired.'

'Is the alcohol working,' Helios asked. He'd come to terms with his sexuality many years ago. He'd admired the man standing before him for some time, for more than his professional abilities. Even if this didn't work out between them, he intended to enjoy the time they had.

'Maybe,' Greg couldn't help the genuine smile erupting on his face. 'I'll let you know in the morning.'