"Gordon!" Alan's disgruntled call blasted through the society's comms, soon accompanied by the holographic image to match the tone. The younger blonde wore an expression of frustration and worry that the aquanaut could understand.

"It's all good, Allie. I got her up in one piece," Gordon gave Thunderbird 3's console a gentle pat, "didn't I, girl? Yeah, she's fine."

"You coulda told me first," a pout replaced the distress now that Alan knew his ' bird had cleared the atmosphere in one piece. There was a wince that followed and reminded them both why he hadn't been the one to take her up.

"Sorry, Sprout. You know I'd rather have you up here, but head injuries are pretty serious." As much as Gordon disliked the arrangement, he was just happy his brother wasn't worse off. The helmet had done most of the saving, but Alan had been unconscious until Virgil had made it to his location, everyone else overwhelmed with extracting survivors from the unstable building. That had only been two days ago and the bruising was still painfully visible. That didn't mean the kid wasn't bored. "Hey, as long as you take it easy, you can monitor. I promise, not a scratch."

A cautious huff at his situation and Alan deflated, "Fine. Do you need a rundown on docking procedures?"

He didn't, but if it made the astronaut feel better, Gordon was willing to accommodate. "Couldn't hurt. Which botton makes her go again?" A teasing smile earned him a glare and he chuckled. "Sorry, couldn't help myself. Go for docking procedure."

Alan brushed aside his annoyance for the chance to provide the step by step instruction he rarely got to deliver. Between the few space rescues they did - meaning Alan was usually available - and the weekly training modules, Thunderbird 3's handling was covered. To his credit, the teen was thorough, not missing a beat as he explained each procedure. Gordon found a sense of pride growing as he listened to the maturity and confidence that resonated through his little brother. He wondered if their other brothers felt the same when it came to his own instructions, but then, he already had an example he wasn't willing to revisit right this moment. Maybe that was why he reveled in his brother's expertise and he found himself more willing to listen.

"Docking compete, thanks Alan," he flashed his little brother an appreciative smile, noting the heavy eyelids of the exhausted teen. "Get some rest. I'll call you when we're done."

"F.A.B." Alan yawned out before giving a wave.

As the connection cut out, a new one appeared and Gordon tried to look pleased, "Hey, EOS. Is John home?"

"I regret to inform you that he is unable to join you on this mission," though regret wasn't the emotion he was getting from the AI.

"EOS, open the airlock," the astronaut called through the open link, mostly for Gordon's benefit. There was no use in him arguing with his brother's creation.

That didn't mean he couldn't encourage her if it helped ease the tension, "What's the deal, EOS? Afraid he'll have some fun and decide to go on more rescues?" He turned to give John a wink as he floated through the rear hatch, the red-head groaning as he sensed the imminent disagreement about to transpire.

"It's not so much the mission as it is the Tracy," EOS quipped back matter-of-factly. "Statistically speaking, of your family, you hold the highest collision rating."

Gordon nodded, shifting his attention to John, "Technically, she's not wrong."

"Technically," John countered, "the majority of those were no fault of the pilot. This is just a routine broken down cargo ship in need of a pickup."

Amber eyes squared up with his brother, "John. We are in space. I'm piloting a rocket away from Earth." He gestured emphatically towards the dark void beyond the console. "Nothing about this is routine." And maybe a little of his own anxiety slipped through in that last bit.

"I agree with Gordon," EOS chimed. "He should head back to the island and wait for Scott or Virgil."

As much as he would love to switch places with their big brothers, those two were still neck deep with another building collapse. Gordon would have been there with them if it hadn't been for the need to have someone open to taking another call should it come through.

Unamused, John had already started reconnecting the call to the cargo ship, "This is International Rescue to Crate-os Cargo ship. We are on route to your location. Estimated arrival is fourth-three minutes. Any changes to your situation?"

"We read you," a male voice came through, clear, but shaky. "She still won't start and emergency power is down to fifteen percent."

"Hold tight, help is on the way," the comm link closed and without missing a beat, he activated the co-pilot controls. "I'll drive."

"By all means," Gordon relinquished his control, happy to sit back and avoid eye contact with the view outside. It wasn't that he didn't want to pilot or that he couldn't, it was the location that made his skin crawl. John knew about his discomfort - maybe even Virgil - but Alan loved it too much for his closest brother to breach the truth. Scott hadn't voiced any indication that he knew, but if John considered it a concern for missions, he would have told their commander.

"I estimate your odds to be slightly higher than before," the AI groused.

"Only slightly?" Gordon teased back.

"You're still on board, aren't you?" They could hear the satisfaction behind the dig and Gordon had to suppress a laugh as John groaned.

"Alright, you two. EOS, you've got communications until I return. Dad is cleared to work in about twelve hours," a sternness settled into the red-head's tone. "Don't let him try to come back too early."

"Simple enough," she almost sounded bored.

"Alright, we'll let you know when we're done," with that, John detached Thunderbird 3 and they were gaining clearance from the space station. The comm remained open and Gordon got the clear impression of a child waiting on the steps while their father drove off on another business trip - rescue mission.

A disarming smile perk the corner of his mouth as Gordon offered some reassurance, "I'll keep an eye on him, EOS. You two'll be back to your totally not suspicious information obtaining before you know it."

"Gordon," John grumbled, "that's not even remotely close to-"

"Mmmm," the AI buzzed with mischief. "Actually, John, that company we were looking into has some very interesting files that may or may not be on a classified list… for much longer anyway."

Gordon's grin widened at the distress on his immediate older brother's face as he took in a breath and let it out again. "Bye, EOS."

The rocket shot forward under the astronaut's control, leaving Five and the giant blue marble behind. The blonde settled into his seat, a level of contentment playing in his chest after the exchange. There was always something uniquely enjoyable about traveling with John versus the other brothers he rotated through. Virgil already knew most of his ploys to get under his skin, Alan enjoyed the back and forth, and he knew better than to challenge their commander with lighthearted teasing when they were working. John was an easy target who could dish it back out in his own time. Gordon was sure there would be payback when he least expected it.

A few minutes into the trip and the blonde started flipping through a list of communications that had been building over the last few days, Gordon too busy with rescues or sleeping. Most of them concerned oceanic research articles and organizations he supported, but a few stood out as something he needed to open. Specifically, a selfie from Penny. He smiled at the jewel-rimmed glasses and sun hat as she posed on a beach. The words "saw these and thought of you" preceded her blowing him a kiss. He would need to respond in kind when he got back. Another message from the Shelbys was inviting him out on their next review of the Supreme Barrier Reef. Every ounce of him wanted to, but it would involve a lot more coordinating than he could do from space. It still received a priority flag, much like Penny's.

"What are you so happy about?" John asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and teasing. Knowing his brother, he probably already had a good idea of what was in Gordon's personal communications.

"Hmmm, stuff I should've probably looked at two days ago," the date on Penelope's was far too long ago for his liking. She had every right to be annoyed with him if she was.

The red-head must have picked up on his inner frustrations as he smiled and offered, "Yeah, Lady Penelope asked about you on her last update. She's requested some time off with you."

"Has she now," a grin spread across his face as he fought to hide the crimson over his cheeks.

"You've been approved twenty-four hours after this mission," the astronaut wore a smile of his own. "I was going to tell you once we were finished, but now seems as good a time as any."

Fists pumping in excitement, Gordon let out a hissed, "Yes!" Amber brightened with the newfound goal and he searched the console as he spoke, "This thing can go faster, right?"

"We're going fast enough," John shot back in an attempt to dampen the eagerness of his little brother. "If you want, you can go get the supplies together for repairs and extraction?" They carried both in case repairs weren't an option or things went south. Too often, it came down to those circumstances and they had determined being prepared took precedence.

"F.A.B.," the shoulder harness lifted, comm placed back into his belt, and Gordon propelled himself to the rear of the cockpit. The rest of the trip was spent ensuring they each had their own set of tools, scanners and, most importantly, propulsion packs and grapples. The last thing he wanted to deal with was being thrown out into space without any way to save himself. Yes, the little experience he had with the hand held rockets usually left him spinning for a few seconds, but it was better than the alternative. The blonde shuddered at the thought, eyes clenching shut before he shook his head.

John's voice drew Gordon out of the spiral his imagination was trying to send him down and he turned to see the cargo ship's layout projected over the holocomm. "Thunderbird 3 to Crate-o's crew. We're on approach to dock. Any updates to your situation?"

Almost immediately, the link opened, the same voice from before coming through in hiccuped gasps, "W-we're he-ere! Please…" the voice trailed off with a harsh sob. "I don't wanna die…pl-please, I do-don't… please."

Gordon shot the red-head a confused look as he took his seat, shifting comms to his side of the console as John began to investigate. "Sir, my name's Gordon. We're going to get you out. What's your name?"

"Toby," it came out a harsh whimper.

"Alright, Toby," amber eyes flicked to the astronaut for any new information. His brother, however, still looked confused. "Just hold tight. We'll be there in a minute or two. Just make sure we can get in okay?"

"O-okay," though calmer, the man still sounded terrified.

Muting the comm, Gordon turned to John, "What's wrong?"

"The ship's readings don't match what he reported earlier." Pulling up the systems, they showed the standard depletion of space travel. No alarms or red flags to indicate trouble. "They should be able to make it back to Earth without a problem."

"So… this is an issue with the crew," Gordon was certain they were dealing with an emergency, especially with how Toby had reacted, but the situation had changed. Engine trouble they could deal with no problem. Humans were a whole different case. "You think there could be a hostile aboard?"

Another scan of the ship sent new data over the holoprojection, "Lifesigns are spread out, some are moving. I can't rule it out. We'll have to see what Toby can tell us once we're inside."

With a nod, Gordon grinned, mostly to ease his brother's growing concern, "Aren't you glad I came?" His combat training surpassed John's barely existent amount, his only experience developed through matches with Kayo.

The astronaut shot him a look that said he wouldn't offer an answer to that specific question, but the sentiment was there. If it had been Alan up here instead, John would need to rethink the entire situation. The kid could fight, but no one wanted to put him in front of hostiles if they could help it.

Lowering the projection, John focused on the physical ship once more, "Preparing to dock. Helmets on until we can get better clarification of the situation."

"F.A.B.," if not for the length of the trip, the aquanaut would've already had it on. The idea of not having it should Thunderbird 3 malfunction and throw him into space was a reoccurring nightmare when his round in Five approached. Securing his helmet first, Gordon helped John with his before returning to the pilot's seat to watch the cargo ship grow closer. Squinting, he spotted movement. "Looks like Toby's meeting us at the door."

"I see him. Just be on your guard. I know he sounded -" the warning came to a jarring halt as their eyes went wide.

"What's he doing!?" Gordon let out in shrill disbelief as the airlock doors slid open and the man they'd just been watching flew out into space… without a suit.

In the second it took John to curse, Gordon was up and pushing himself towards the nearest outer hatch. "Get us there!" He could already feel his brother hastening their approach .

Seconds… they only had seconds… Why the hell had he done that?!

Gordon's boots kicked off the wall and he slammed into the inner hatch, wrenching it open with adrenaline fueled muscles. Too many seconds later, he pulled it shut and grabbed a tether, attaching it to his belt before opening the outer hatch. In similar fashion, he was hurled out of Three, amber eyes locking on the figure they'd come to save. With John at the helm, the space ship slowed just as he made contact, the tether activating to pull them back in.

Gordon couldn't be more grateful for the tech, his arms locked on Toby for more than just fear of losing his grip. His heart was hammering against his ribs from the terror at the back of his mind telling him he shouldn't be outside - shouldn't be holding someone who's face seemed frozen in agony. When the outer hatch closed, it was John who pulled open the inner, his hands maneuvering them into the more spacious cockpit. The tether caught and jarred Gordon from his shock, the rush of his own blood in his ears drowning out the astronaut's words to the crewman. Fumbling at the hook, the blonde let it slide back into its place, turning to his brother to catch the sudden flash of helplessness. Direction. They needed to start lifesaving protocols, things that John knew, but didn't have as much practice in. That was Gordon's job and his heart was still trying to explode.

Swallowing back the bile as it rose in his throat, the aquanaut clung to routine. "Mediscanner," was spoken as he moved to the first aid cabinet, pulling free the handheld device and tossing it to his brother. Steadier hands than his activated it, sending a bean over the still figure. A few seconds later, they had their answer.

Ruptured lungs. No cardiac activity. Toby had been outside too long…hadn't emptied his lungs. He was dead.

A curse sounded from the red-head, sounding dull in Gordon's ears as he stared at the gaping and blue tinged lips, eyes wide and sightless. It was John who broke the link with a blanket that floated over the body like a ghost. It was also John who took a hold of the yellow baldric and dragged his stunned brother back to the pilot's seat and shoved him into it.

Turquoise locked onto amber with a silent exchange and Gordon realized his breaths were coming too fast to be healthy.

"Slow down… deep breaths," John coaxed, breathing in with him as Gordon's hands wrapped around himself to stop the quaking.

In and out. John began to count. In and out until they were both breathing together. Gordon's head slowly cleared, the terror making way for anger and confusion. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out," content that his little brother was okay, John went back to his seat, pulling up the cargo ship's systems once more. Playback of the last few minutes showed the crewman entering the airlock just before manually activating the doors that led to his unnecessary death. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Why would he do that?" Gordon questioned, feeling sick at the implication. "He'd just told us he - he didn't want to die."

"Are we even sure that's Toby?" A logical question for an illogical situation. John opened a comm link, this time to the entire ship, "Crate-os Cargo, this is International Rescue. Please respond."

No one answered.