A/N: 'Frequent flier' is an emergency services term for an annoying repeat caller. By and large they are difficult, irritating time wasters, occasionally violent or abusive towards ambos and generally vexing for all involved.

People who call regularly for genuine needs are not frequent fliers. They tend to be lovely people who only call because they need us and they do everything in their power to make collecting them as easy as possible.

"Uuuughhhhh." Tired and sore with his uniform stained with soot and swamp muck, Gordon dropped himself down to lie flat on the deck of Two's module, dragged both hands down his face and grimaced when they came away streaked with grease and ash. "I'm going to be picking bits out of my hair for days after this!" He complained, sprawling out like a starfish to rest his aching back.

"We're billing Langstrom for this one, right?" Virgil asked, shrugging off the remains of his damaged exo-suit and looking around the filthy module and dented pods with a sour expression as he tallied the hours it would take to put things right.

"I want to, believe me, I do." Scott wearily leaned against the wall of the module next to Gordon and slid down to sit in an ungainly heap, letting his head fall back and hit the inner hull with a dull thump. "Right alongside our other frequent flier Lemaire." He added, looking with disgust at the stinking mud caking his uniform from the waist down.

"Does Ned count on our frequent flier list?" Gordon asked, rolling his head to look up at Scott. "We've had to go get him, what, three times now? And he messed up that mission the GDF borrowed Lady P and Parker for."

"Nah, he doesn't count, that one was the only time it was his fault." Scott shook his head. "But billing Langstrom would feel very good right now."

"What was he up to anyway?" Virgil asked as he went to one of the many lockers of the module and grabbed an armful of electrolyte drinks, passing them around to his siblings.

"Something something 'I'm brilliant', 'you're all just jealous', 'I'm going to save the world!'" Gordon managed a pretty good imitation of Fischler from his spot on the deck, including grandiose hand gestures, then dropped back into his normal accent. "I don't know, I don't care. It blew up before it got to a populated area and we got the chunks out of the swamp before it caused an ecological disaster, that's all that matters as far as I'm concerned."

"Hey guys," John's hologram popped up from Scott's communicator, "you probably want to keep the news switched off until TI's lawyers get the cease and desist in front of Fischler."

Scott groaned and took a swig of his drink. "Do I want to know?"

"Probably not." John deadpanned.

"Ugh, that bad?" The eldest pinched the bridge of his nose to try and fend off what felt like a building tension headache.

"Yep."

"Any good news?" He asked hopefully.

"We're going to have an ironclad defamation case against Fischler by the time he stops running his mouth on live TV." John dutifully reported. "I've got EOS cataloging every statement and compiling our video and audio recordings as counter evidence."

"What?" Gordon sat up and shuffled over to better see the miniature image of John. "Are you serious?! After we just saved him? I'm gonna kill him!" Gordon snarled. "I'm going to kill that ungrateful, stupid idiot!"

"Murder is bad, Gordon. Way too much paperwork." Scott tried to lighten the mood, putting a hand on Gordon's shoulder, mostly in reassurance but a little in restraint.

"It's not murder if I bring him back afterwards! Killing him a little bit doesn't count, right John?" Gordon asked hopefully.

"Well, technically it's about intent, not results." John blithely answered.

"There's a couple of medical procedures that are technically killing someone for a little bit." Virgil 'helpfully' suggested. "They're not illegal."

"Virgil, you're supposed to be helping me convince him to not go on a homicidal rampage, stop giving him ideas." Scott admonished.

"It was just a suggestion." Virgil spread his hands innocently.

"Look, we're all tired." Scott tried to rein in the younger two. "Let's just get cleaned up and go home. John can drop a message to Lady P and Kayo if they don't already know about it and they can deal with Fischler if need be. Let's face it, those two are way scarier than us."

"Good point." Gordon reluctantly acknowledged and carefully levered himself up from the deck, using one of the structural ribs of the module as a handhold. "Either of you fit to fly? I'm not. Virg, I think I'm going to need some diclofenac injections when we get home."

"Gotcha on the injections, I'll do them once you're clean. Ask me about flying after a shower and some food." Virgil grunted, rummaging in the food locker for the crate of ration bars.

"Let's just go." Scott decided, feeling decidedly not up to anything as complicated as piloting right now. "John, once we've got the module buttoned up autopilot us home before Fischler scrapes up the guts to try and confront us in person."

"F.A.B."