Title: We'll be home for Christmas
Day Three - If not for the courage of the fearless crew – Part 1
Author: Gumnut
23 - 27 Dec 2019
Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS
Rating: Teen
Summary: The boys can't fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.
Word count: 3823
Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Artist!Virgil, Minor various ships, mostly background.
Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos we haven't seen it yet.
Author's note: For scattergraph. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D I hope you enjoy it.
Please note that I am not a scientist, only an artist with mad librarian skillz. I may have stretched a few facts in places here, for which I apologise, though I did research a hell of a lot to get this written (at one point I was only writing one or two lines before I had to research another fact…it was a very long process). I hope you enjoy it anyway. :D
Many thanks to vegetacide and scribbles97 for cheering me on and their wonderful support through this craziness. And to onereyofstarlight for geeking out with me over the setting.
Disclaimer: Mine? You've got to be kidding. Money? Don't have any, don't bother.
-o-o-o-
Day Three - If not for the courage of the fearless crew
When Virgil woke late the next morning, the yacht was already in motion. He sighed as he crawled out of bed, body groaning the entire way.
Stumbling into the living area, he didn't even have to look for the coffee. John simply met him halfway and handed him a mug.
He inhaled it. The hot beverage ran down his throat and within minutes his brain was beginning to boot.
A hand landed on John's shoulder in honest gratitude. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Okay, so that grin was a little smug, but the coffee was worth it. That and it was a novelty to have John for breakfast at any time. He squeezed his brother's shoulder, blaming not enough caffeine for the sudden soppy.
His brother frowned at him. "How are you feeling?"
Okay, that fixed the soppy. He rolled his eyes. "I'm fine."
The frown turned into a smirk. "Sure. Would you like some eggs? I hid the last of the bacon from Alan, so there is some if you like."
The soppy returned. You'd think he was on drugs or something. Must be the sea air. "Thanks, John."
His brother peered at him a little more before ushering him to sit down and busying himself in the kitchenette. It wasn't long before the tantalising smell of bacon sizzling wafted through the living area.
"Hey! I thought we were out of bacon!" Alan was not impressed as he strode in, game console in hand. "You lied to me!"
John snorted as he placed the plate full of bacon and eggs in front of Virgil along with a glass of orange juice. "So, you would have eaten Virgil's share?" The arched eyebrow was challenging.
"Nooo."
"Sure, Alan." John turned around and walked back into the kitchen obviously not believing his brother.
Alan sat down across from Virgil. "I wouldn't, honest, Virg."
Perhaps his littlest brother's brain was not connected to his hand because Virgil had to slap it away from his plate almost immediately. "Sure, Alan."
The bacon was good and the eggs just right. Mouth full, "John, this is divine."
The snort from the kitchenette was loud, but the only comment he received in reply.
Virgil slapped Alan's hand away again and glared at him. "So, who's winning the game."
Alan was immediately distracted. "I was, but then John pulled a stunt with a rogue asteroid, which I'm not entirely sure was legal..." His voice rose specifically in the direction of the kitchenette.
"Game allowed it."
"Yeah, well, I PM'd the developers and they knew nothing about it!"
"Gregory never remembers what he programs. The guy does it in his sleep half the time."
"Hah! Grez is totally cool. He said you're a stick in the mud."
John wandered back into the room wiping his hands on a tea towel. "Gregory is also a card-carrying member of the Flat Earth society."
A snort from Alan. "So?"
"The man has been to space, Al. He designs video games, set in space. Explain the logic behind that?"
"Denial? Imagination? A little too much college night life?"
John threw the towel back into the kitchen. "All of the above. So, yeah, game allows it, it's legal."
"Well, I'm gonna whip your ass in the void between galaxies. Gonna stoke my ship with engines only you can dream of."
Taking a seat at the end of the table, John did not appear concerned in the slightest. "Hey, Virgil, would you like to assist me in developing a fictional intergalactic drive."
An arched eyebrow as he munched on bacon and glanced between the two of them. "Hmmm, sure."
"Hey! No fair. No engineering brothers allowed. If you get Virgil, I get Brains."
John grinned. "Go for it. International Rescue could do with one of those."
Virgil snorted. He loved Brains like a brother, but the man did not know the difference between reality and fiction. Postulate an idea such as this, give him a few hours and he'd have a working theory. Let him go, and he'd build it. The game would be forgotten the moment Alan mentioned the concept.
"You suck."
"Just using the tools at hand, Alan."
Virgil blinked. "You just called me a tool."
John shrugged and opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a string of profanity from their captain up on the bridge. The boat suddenly accelerated, swerving to port, and Virgil had to grab the remains of his breakfast as it tried to slide off the table.
A frowning Scott strode through the room. A worried glance at Virgil and John, he took the most direct route towards the bridge and disappeared. Alan dropped his console onto the lounge and darted after him.
At higher speeds, the boat began to bounce off the wave peaks. Virgil decided that staying put was probably in his best interests and apparently John agreed as he reached out and gently grabbed Virgil's arm.
"I'm okay."
"Just making sure."
He didn't bother responding to that.
Wherever the boat was going, apparently it got there quickly because it wasn't at full acceleration for long and it slowed quickly to a stop, her hull wallowing in the water at the sudden lack of forward momentum.
As Virgil pushed himself to his feet, he glared at the hand wrapped around his bicep. John didn't let go.
"If you fall on your face on my watch, Scott will kill me."
"I'm fine."
His brother still didn't let go. This was ridiculous.
But apparently smother was in the Tracy genetic code, because John held onto him the entire way up to the bridge. Only to find it locked down and empty.
All three brothers were out on the bow of the boat.
He could hear Gordon swearing from here. What the hell had his brother all riled up?
It took his slow way onto the bow - those steps still hurt, damn it - for him to find out.
"It's caught in her mouth. Goddamnit!"
"Hey, hey, Gordon. We can help her. Tell us what we need to do." Scott's voice was tense. Virgil read it clearly as pissed, but needing to calm a brother and fix a problem before blowing a circuit.
What the hell had happened?
"Gordon?"
His fish brother shot distraught eyes in his direction. "We've got a humpback calf caught in a gill net. A fucking illegal gill net. Here. I'm gonna string the bastards up and Mel is gonna skin them alive!"
Gordon stormed past Virgil and John, heading towards the back of the boat, thumbing his comms. "Mel, you got your ears on?"
Virgil turned to look out across the surface of the ocean and sure enough a single dark buoy appeared just off to port about fifty metres away. To his horror there was a weak whale spout just as his eyes focussed on the spot.
Scott strode past and gently clasped his shoulder, his eyes bleak before following Gordon aft. Alan hurried after him.
A glance at John found his brother's professional facade well in place. Gordon could be heard yelling over his comms from the other end of the boat.
The whale breached again.
Shit.
-o-o-o-
Scott followed his little brother as he stormed down the length of his yacht.
"Mel, what the hell do you mean this isn't the first time."
"Don't get me wrong, Gordon, I'm as angry as you, but these assholes know what they are doing. I've had the coast guard out here sixteen times in the last year and they haven't managed to catch one of them. We've lost turtles, sunfish, rays and earlier in the season a humpback died of its injuries. We can't locate the nets. They don't appear on our scanners."
"Well, they appear on mine and I'm not putting up with this crap."
"Any help is appreciated, Gordon. If I knew you'd be able to detect them, I would have called you in earlier. If you can give us the locations, it would be much appreciated."
"I'll get John on it immediately. In the meantime, we have an injured calf and a distressed mother to attend to."
"Do you want me down there?"
His brother paused a moment and dragged in a calming breath. "I'll do an assessment. If I need help, I'll call Kayo to come get you."
"Keep me in the loop, Thunderfish. Play it safe. Mamma Humpback is going to be anxious." A pause. "Sorry your vacation has been interrupted."
"Screw my vacation. We're gonna get these bastards." Scott didn't think he had ever seen his brother so angry. It was understandable. "Speak to you soon. A Little Lightning out."
Gordon immediately turned to Scott. "We have a situation."
Scott let his head drop just a little in acknowledgment. "Yes, we do. This is yours, Thunderbird Four. Tell me what you need."
-o-o-o-
With the power of TB5 they discovered an intricate network of netting just to the west of the Kermadecs, trailing intermittently down their full length. To regular sensors they were invisible, but to IR sensors they were a flicker. A flicker John was able to focus on and bring up a clear picture.
Gordon, now dressed in his IR uniform, swore a bluestreak at how many nets were actually out there. John put him through to WASP Command and Gordon gave a very colourful report to the regional commander, who just happened to be a former squad mate of his. Her response was more formal, but no less colourful.
With tight expressions, Gordon, Scott and Alan climbed into the inflatable dingy and rowed their way out to the beleaguered cetacean. Gordon used the effort to push his anger into the oars. He couldn't afford to have his thoughts clouded by the bastards who had done this.
Sensors told him the calf had a net caught in its mouth and wrapped around its right pectoral fin. The fine mesh hung down its left side, dangling into the depths where it had caught on a snag. The chances of it catching right there were ridiculously small, the waters so deep between the islands. But the net was hundreds of metres long, weighted, and, even tangled, it reached down far enough to snag itself on a submerged pile of rock.
Hell, he was going to need Four to get down that deep to get the net out of the water.
If the calf had been snagged while diving, she wouldn't have been able to surface to breathe and would have drowned.
Bastards!
Scott darted a glance at Gordon. The aquanaut held his gaze. His eldest brother was dressed in an IR wetsuit. It was startling to see him out of his familiar uniform. Gone was his flight baldric and in its place, yellow slashed across his blue, visibility more the priority underwater. The only concessions to his commander rank were his shoulder patches and twin silver-grey bands on that yellow baldric. Alan was dressed similarly, but where Scott sported silver, Alan sported red. Neither had their helmets on.
Gordon had only mentioned the suits to Scott when preparing for this venture because he had hoped to enjoy some recreational diving. Their suits were far above average equipment, so why not use the best to have a little fun?
Scott had rolled his eyes, but five wetsuits had been thrown into their luggage. They had supposed to be used for sharing his world with his brothers.
Gordon swore under his breath again and tugged at the oars angrily.
"We'll fix this." Scott's voice was calm, ever the commander when on duty. And on duty they were.
When he got his hands on those assholes...
"A Little Lightning to Inflatable. Mother Humpback is on the move towards you." John had been tracking her frantic circles around her calf.
Gordon dropped the oars and grabbed his scanner. Sure enough, the worried behemoth was angling in towards them. She posed a serious threat despite their benign intentions.
"Roger that, A Little Lightning."
The inflatable stilled in the water, three pairs of eyes stared out across the surface.
"Be quiet. Here she comes."
Not twenty metres away, the mother surfaced, her spout spraying them all with angry water. Her huge mass coasted just under the surface and beelined to her daughter.
Gordon's heart lurched at the distressed groans she made as she nuzzled her trapped calf.
"I'm going in." He shoved his helmet on.
Scott caught his arm. "Are you sure that is wise?"
He caught his brother's worried eyes. "You are just going to have to trust me. I know what I am doing."
A bitten lip, but Scott nodded once and let him go.
Gordon slipped quietly over the edge of the inflatable and into the water.
-o-o-o-
Virgil stood on the bridge of A Little Lightning and swallowed hard. It was frustrating to be caught unable to do anything, but in this kind of situation, it wasn't an unfamiliar feeling.
Usually, though, he was hovering in Two far above the surface.
John stood beside him, a mission hologram projecting from his tablet, his hands playing the portable controls as smoothly as Virgil played his piano. Eos spoke up quietly, relaying reports from WASP as the organisation swooped in on the illegal fishing organisation somewhere off to the west. His brothers' vitals danced in one corner, the readout from the sensors and the now deployed sensor buoy hung beside them.
Virgil could only watch.
"Gordon, approach with extreme care. The mother is emitting infrasound, beyond our hearing. She is very distressed." John's voice was sharp, but calm as the sensors traced the sound pattern in the air before him.
Whispered. "FAB, John. I can feel it. She may be calling for help. Silence on comms."
And Virgil realised he could feel it, too. A rumble in his bones, a wail so deep it could only be felt, not heard.
He closed his eyes.
He felt her shift octaves, the sound pulsing, her thrum desperate. It vibrated at the edge of his sensory perception, slipping in and out, barely felt in his body tissues, his fingertips, the sensitive incisions in his gut.
"Virgil? You okay?"
John's soft voice startled him, throwing him out of focus. "What?"
He received a copper frown for his efforts. "You're pale."
"I'm fine."
Green eyes narrowed, but his brother didn't comment further. He returned to his holograms, bringing up a satellite lifesign read of the area.
"We're receiving a reply." John frowned. "Another. Several. Locating sources. Eos, give me a narrow frequency band and pinpoint." The AI didn't answer but several dots appeared on the satellite view. John waved a hand and zoomed in on a cluster in the Southern Ocean. The view focussed and cleared and Virgil was again amazed at Brains' skill as the surface of the ocean appeared and a pod of whales was defined. They were all travelling in a south-easterly direction.
Over two thousand kilometres from the mother and calf. John zoomed out again and scanned for a closer answer. He found one but it was still fifteen hundred kilometres distant. Far too far away to return to help the distraught mother.
But then another signal came in, this one only three hundred kilometres away to the south-east. John narrowed in on the location, only to find another mother and calf.
"Is that the mother and calf we encountered two days ago?" The subjects of his painting.
"More than likely. Gordon did say it was very late in the season. The humpback whales migrate from tropical waters north-west to south-east across the Kermadec Ridge on their way to feeding grounds near Antarctica during spring. That places the nets in the optimal position to do the most damage."
Virgil stared at the kilometres of lines denoting the position of so many illegal fishing nets."
"Do you think WASP will be able to stop this?" His voice came out parched and cold, an echo of the anger building inside.
"They will do their best. Gordon won't rest, you know that. I've also asked Penny to investigate. This impinges on Tracy Industries' ecological interests so I have contacted the board." His lips thinned. "We will find those responsible."
The lines taunted him. How many? How many lives had been taken moments before sanctuary?
"Virgil?"
The mother shifted octaves again and he found himself closing his eyes.
A hand landed on his arm. Soft. "Virgil?"
He startled. John's turquoise eyes were frowning at him again.
"She's terrified."
"Gordon will free her calf."
"She doesn't know that."
Her thrum was in his bones, vibrating his very soul.
And then the calf cried out.
-o-o-o-
Gordon had always felt small beside his brothers, but floating next to a leviathan of the open ocean there was no comparison.
The mother humpback was nuzzling her calf, a mixture of chirps and groans vibrated through the water accompanied by the modulating infrasound, screaming fear across the Pacific.
Knowledge of cetaceans scrolled through Gordon's mind, but instinct was yelling at him.
Never get between a mother and her baby.
But the baby was in pain and her mother was unable to help her.
He could.
He edged closer, ever quiet, calm.
Mamma shifted in his direction, her great head swinging around and tossing him about in the resultant wake. Gordon caught himself and took the opportunity to slip in even closer.
C'mon, beautiful, I don't mean you any harm. I'm here to help.
He reached out and touched the calf's flank.
The calf shifted away, crying out and her mother propelled herself forward towards Gordon.
He darted backwards, holding up a hand. "Hey, hey, I'm here to help." She couldn't understand the words, but perhaps the intent?
A groan wrapped around him, followed by a click.
"Gordon!" Scott's voice echoed about his helmet.
And into the water around him.
Shit.
He scrambled backwards as Mamma reacted. Surging forward she nudged him hard enough to force him to the surface. "Woah!" He got a brief glimpse of Scott gesticulating at him from the inflatable, obviously agitated and then everything was bubbles.
He lost orientation for a moment and just settled for swimming away from the chaos.
"Goddamnit, Gordon, answer me!"
"Shut up, Scott. I've got this! Silence on comms!"
He dove.
Deep.
He relied on his suit to keep his body pressure static as he propelled himself fifty metres straight down.
Sunlight flickered turquoise and disappeared into the depths.
Mamma didn't follow.
Gordon hovered there a moment, looking up at the silhouettes of the two whales and the dingy far above. Mamma returned to nuzzling her calf, her pectoral fins churning the water into bubbles with the smallest movements.
Okay, Gords, you've got this. Gentle, calm and persistent.
He began his ascent.
-o-o-o-
Virgil tensed as his brother was thrown from the water only to disappear and dive down deep.
Gordon's snarl across comms at Scott was acid.
The mother's call shifted an octave to the point Virgil could almost hear the clear C, F, and G notes hanging in the air.
Three hundred kilometres away, the second mother and calf answered and turned around.
Virgil stared at the dots on John's map as they slowly began moving towards them. It would take them a good chunk of the day and night to reach the distressed calf, but the other mother was answering the call.
John's monitor sketched out the answer, far below human hearing and far too distant to be felt.
A complicated, pulsating aria of sound.
It wove around the mother's distress call, each note dancing with its partner, an answer in form as well as content.
Staring at the readout, he found himself humming the notes, switching cadence, following the thread.
The rumble in his throat spoke counterpoint to the song in his bones. It completed. It felt...reassuring.
"Virgil?"
"What?!" He blinked. Shocked at his own outburst as John took a step back, Virgil drew in a shaky breath. "Sorry."
John's voice was quiet. "What is it?"
Virgil stared at his brother, then back at the sensor buoy's holographic display showing Gordon swimming up the water column. "Can we transmit sound into the water?"
It was John's turn to blink. "Of course."
"At infrasound levels?"
John pulled up the buoy's specs and Virgil knew the answer before his brother could vocalise it.
"Wait there."
He had an idea.
-o-o-o-
The sight of the abrasions on the side of the calf's mouth physically hurt Gordon. He swam up slowly beside the calf on the other side from its mother. He kept quiet but made sure the calf knew he was there.
It edged closer to its mother.
"Hey, beautiful. I'm not going to hurt you."
She whined, her sonics vibrating through him.
Mamma growled in the way only a mamma whale could and, blowing spray up into the air, drew in breath and dove.
She slipped below her daughter and targeted Gordon.
Oh shit.
He flung himself to the left and down. He could manoeuvre easily around her, but...
...her tail swung and he was caught in a rush of wake, bubbles and the need to avoid the whacking she was trying to give him.
"Okay, I get the message. But Mom, you're going to have to back off or your baby is going to die." The calf could last only so long before exhaustion and predators put an end to her struggles.
Mamma swam around in a tight circle and for a moment one of her great eyes caught his, her intelligence and fear glaring at him through the turquoise light.
His external mic picked up a single note.
What?
The note shifted and became more of a wail, cut off and was silent.
Mamma whale was still staring at him.
Another note. Again it was modulated, but this time his brother's voice accompanied it, Virgil's raw baritone holding the note for a few seconds before shifting down his range to another note. His keyboard, for there was no doubt that Virgil had his keyboard with him, emitted a series of low moans.
Gordon shivered.
His brother was playing infrasonic, he could feel it, no doubt using the transmitter on the buoy.
Mamma was still staring at him.
He could give his brother all the points for effort, but there had yet to be a case where humans could communicate with whales. Many had tried. Most were ignored. The most success had been achieved with touch, which is what Gordon was attempting to do.
If he could get close enough without having his head handed to him.
Virgil shifted from single notes to a more complex weaving of sounds, combining his voice with the keyboard in a way he had never quite heard from his brother.
Mamma blinked.
Clicked three times.
And let off a wail of sound that tore at his heart.
Virgil answered.
-o-o-o-
End Day Three, Part One