I don't own either Quatermass or UFO, I am just writing fanfiction.

A/N - I wrote this, wondering how somebody like Quatermass could cope with the UFOs and the aliens before SHADO was established. I hope you enjoy it.

Please let me know what you think.

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Quatermass and the UFOs.

Crash Landing.

"Radar tracking the moon probe; it will land when in range of remote control radio beam," the voice of the radar operator boomed through the tracking room of the British Rocket Group. All around the room, technicians and scientists attached to the Moon probe project were rushing around with files, checking out the latest readings. However, there were several uninvited and frankly unwanted guests in the form of sentries and technicians wearing Army and Royal Air Force uniforms.

Professor Bernard Quatermass leaned forward and tapped the microphone. "Radar, where is the moon probe now?"

"It is heading back to Earth," the operator replied. "And answering your next question, Professor, the moon probe will be in the range of the beam in the next twenty minutes."

Quatermass closed his eyes, feeling his heart beating harder and longer than ever before, but controlling himself with the effort since all he wanted was to run in joy as the culmination of years of work ever since the disaster where that plant thing had run amok during the earliest manned mission tests the BRG had undertaken, and the excitement was so palpable and contagious he was somehow able to ignore the image of the soldiers and other military idiots in the same room, he instead maintained his composure and said, "Thank you. Keep in touch."

Oliver Cullen who had been with Quatermass on and off over the past few years, looked up at the professor knowingly. He knew how much this project meant to Quatermass, how it meant to everyone.

"Not long to go now, Bernard. Soon we'll be launching the expedition," he said.

Oliver Cullen had joined the British Rocket Group at the time of its inception. He had been an aviation engineer who had taken an interest in rocketry and his ideas had reached the ear of Professor Quatermass, who helped him fill in the gaps in his knowledge. Cullen was one of the engineering crews and he had worked on and off with Quatermass ever since. Like Quatermass, Cullen despised the fact they had the military here who were pushing for the so-called Operation Damocles to be done in a hurry, using their expertise to do it. With Cullen's supervision, every inch of the test probe rockets which were launched towards the moon and into the orbit of the planet was painstakingly researched using the years of experience they'd gleaned between them all.

As a born mechanic, Cullen refused to let any piece of technology out of his sight so he could thoroughly test all of them for the construction of the rockets. They had been carrying out these experiments for the past six months, taking the results of their previous work and going from there.

Cullen and Quatermass had designed a nuclear-powered rocket combined with a jet engine to fly the rocket out into orbit, where the nuclear space drive would be switched on. They had been testing the design of the engines for the last few months, and the probe they had launched recently was the latest design. Once they got the recorded data from the rocket, they would come closer to building the final rocket.

Quatermass smiled back. "I know. But it will still take time for us to go through the probes' memory, and begin the plans for the final rocket. We might even need to build more probes." He added the last part knowing Oliver was extremely thorough and he would want everything to go well with the final rocket design.

Cullen didn't have a problem with that. "We will need to send someone into space as a test subject for the atmospheric systems," he reminded Quatermass.

Quatermass sighed but he nodded. "True, this is the first long-distance rocket launched from Earth. The next model will be important. How's it going to build?"

"We're ready to install the nuclear power core. Next, we'll install the atmospheric systems. We've made the next probe large enough to take four people; the more we have onboard the ship, the better chance I'll have in knowing how the systems work for more people in the spacecraft."

Quatermass nodded thoughtfully. "I think we'd be better off sending two such probes into space; one for a week long orbital pass, the second for the moon."

"Are you sure?" Oliver asked. "We have the casing for a second probe rocket, so we can do it, but it will still take time to prepare both of them and besides is it a good move? With Barnaby and the rest of 'em breathing down our necks-."

"We have to, Oliver. I want this to go well, and following what happened a few years ago with Victor, the last thing I want is to take unnecessary risks, no matter what Barnaby says," Quatermass said.

"Everything alright, Professor?" As if on cue, Colonel Barnaby's voice interrupted the conversation between Quatermass and Oliver Cullen. They turned and saw the uniformed form of Colonel Barnaby. When the Ministry of Defence summoned Quatermass to the conference to discuss the future of the British Rocket Group before that business with the Pit and the strange alien craft inside, they had made it clear his original backing with full support and funding from the government would be changed.

When Quatermass first established the BRG, they had just come out of the war but the country was in no fit state to think about the production of weapons, and it was the last thing the government wanted to think about either. It was because of the foresight of the government administration at the time that Quatermass's rocket group was first set up; thanks to his reputation and his skills and reputation, the government let him found the organisation. They were also drawn into the dream of a new era of science and technology, and so they began work.

After finding a remote and out-of-the-way RAF base which had fallen into disrepair after the war, and later expanded on with little work needed to make it work for rockets, the government provided Quatermass and his research group with the materials and technology they needed, but they had made it abundantly clear to Quatermass that sooner or later the policy might change.

The policy was that the government might change their minds and make the British Rocket Group turn their work over from scientific progress to militaristic interests.

Quatermass had prayed it wasn't going to happen, but it had. There was a conference and while Breen was killed in the chaotic mess in the Pit, the government had not changed their minds. To make sure Quatermass knew they were serious, they had the military - a group of Army and RAF personnel - force their way into the BRG. There was nothing they could do about this, and Quatermass was told the government's decision was final. There was nothing they could do about it. Quatermass had swallowed his pride and his temper, and he was forced to work with them. He had managed to wrangle a loophole with the new arrangement and was able to still make scientific discoveries. It made the military's presence an easier pill to swallow, but it was still annoying.

"Yes, everything's fine, Colonel," Quatermass replied as he tried to remain polite. "We're just waiting for the probe to return."

"I know," Barnaby smiled; unlike Breen, Barnaby was an easier man to get along with. While he was still a soldier, he was more outgoing but at the same time, it only went so far. Barnaby was dedicated to his country, and while he knew Quatermass was bitter about his presence, he allowed him some leeway within moderation. "Any word on when it will return?"

"Shouldn't be too long, about…a quarter of an hour or so."

"Radar tracking the moon probe. It is coming back, readying the control beam….wait, there's a second contact!" The operator yelped in surprise.

Quatermass exchanged looks with Cullen and Barnaby. Barnaby raced to a telephone that had been prepared for his own use. He picked up the receiver, rapidly dialled the number and spoke urgently into it. Quatermass didn't bother sparing him much thought for who Barnaby was calling, he had a good idea already, and besides, he had other things on his mind.

"Radar, where is the moon probe now, and where is the second object?"

"Both the probe and the second object are outside the atmosphere, Prof, so it's not a plane."

Quatermass was aware the Americans and the Russians were both conducting their own research into space travel using the same rocket technology used by the Germans. In fact, the Americans had even gone and done a deal with the devil in arranging for consultation from various Nazi scientists who'd escaped the war for their knowledge and expertise on space travel experiments. But the BRG always kept in touch with America for notification whenever a rocket was launched.

Still, he had to be sure.

Turning around, he gently pulled a technician who was too slow to get out of the way in time over to where he was with Oliver. "Get on the radio, call the Americans, and ask them if they've launched anything. Be quick."

As the technician desperately raced off to carry out his task, Quatermass bent down over the mike. "How long before you can guide the rocket probe down your end?"

"Another five minutes. The other object is not too close to the probe, but it's moving at fantastic speed; it's racing across the radar screen."

Quatermass frowned, this was looking more and more unlikely like any other power being involved. He was just about to say something when the radar operator snapped out urgently, "The contact is near the probe. DAMN!"

"What, what is it?" Quatermass demanded urgently in alarm.

"The radar just flared. Don't ask me what it was; it just flared like there was a blast of energy. And the probe is coming down fast."

"Can you get the beam on it?" Quatermass asked as he ran through his mind what could cause the flare, but he came up with nothing. That sent up a red flag in itself, but his mind was trying to work out where the second object came from.

"Hold it, I'll try," the operator replied. Quatermass and the others waited for five minutes before the radar operator got back to him. "No, we can't. And the powered object is coming down close to where the probe is coming down."

"Where are they coming down?" Quatermass demanded, becoming convinced there was a second spacecraft up there but what it was was a mystery to him.

"I won't know for a while I'm afraid, they're moving all over the place."

"Damn, keep in touch," Quatermass stood up. He turned to Cullen. "Ideas?"

"I haven't got anything, Bernard. Could the Russians have sent something up, and they attacked the probe?" Cullen asked.

"I don't think so, not unless they've built a rocket that is really fast," Quatermass shook his head in exasperation. He had always hated the blame game, and in the current political climate where nations pretended to be friendly with one another, but were quietly spying on each other, he hated it even more. "No, I can't see it. And it doesn't explain that radar flare-up."

Cullen nodded. "I'm going to have a look at our radar set up, don't you worry about that," he promised, but Quatermass saw he was clueless about what caused it himself.

Colonel Barnaby strode over to them. "I've just been on the telephone to the MoD and to the tracking stations. They reported a powered object which was quite small, but fast."

Quatermass frowned. "That sounds less and less like the Americans, or the Russians," he said. "Anyway, we have bigger problems. The probe is coming down in a crash-dive."

"Oh lord. Where?"

"We don't know yet, the course of the probe is erratic. Oliver, you had better tell the Rocket retrieval team to get ready. They're not going to like this," Quatermass said.

"Do we know more about this powered object?" Barnaby asked.

"No, and from what you've said it's only clearer to me that it isn't something we've built," Quatermass said.

As he waited for the inevitable report about where the moon probe was going to crash, Quatermass didn't know what worried him more; the fact their experiment which had gone so well before this disaster happened was now crashing down, or the fact he didn't know anything behind it. It reminded him of the disaster a few years ago, but this time they had proof there was something up there.