Dislcaimer: Thunderbirds is the property of Gerry and Sylvia Anderson, as well as Carlton and Universal. No profit is intended to be made from this story; it is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended, and none should be inferred.

Thunderbird Five
March 2018

"All ready?" Jeff Tracy asked for the tenth time, making sure in his own mind that his son was set for the launch.

Strapped tightly into the third seat, with Brains set in the co-pilot's chair, John nodded and let his head fall backwards against the cushioning. "Yep."

All three men wore rumpled grey suits that Brains had quickly whipped together down in the lab. They were less bulky than the suits used by NASA, but the engineer had assured both Jeff and John that they were quite safe to use. In addition, all three carried beside them insulating flight helmets that could be used in the event that air pressure was lost in the ship.

"Begin final countdown," Jeff commanded, flipping a series of switches on the main panel that sent Thunderbird Three into its final launch sequence. "Call systems."

"Computer interface is go."

"L-l-life support is go."

"Engines are green."

"Structural looks good."

Of course, Jeff could see all of that by simply looking at the complex diagnostic interface that lay before him. But he liked procedures, and he couldn't bring himself to handle a space launch without some form of pre-flight check. It was habit that had been banged into him too many times to easily throw it aside.

"We are good to go."

A large digital counter flashed onto the LCD portion of the main view port. The numbers began to drop slowly from ten, as a computerised voice read off the countdown.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven."

Thunderbird Three jumped slightly as the rockets readied for launch.

"Six, five, four, three."

"I won't throw up."

Jeff flipped around, concerned, but John waved him off.

"Two, one."

It was too late to worry. With almost the force of an atomic explosion, the rocket fired its jets and began to pull away from the launch bay. The motion sent all three men backward in their seats.

Through the smoke and fire, Jeff could see the nose cone pass through the exit of the bay, past the split panels of the island library, past the upper part of the island, and up into the atmosphere. Fighting the g-forces, he turned his head to glance at Brains, who seemed to be managing fine, and John, who looked ready to heave up his lunch at any moment.

"Vomiting during take-off is not a good idea," Jeff offered, yelling over the din.

"Making me talk isn't either," John choked back, trying to hold down his food.

Crossing his fingers mentally, Jeff turned back towards the flight systems and began to slowly bring the rocket's main jets off-line. Through the view-port, the sky was beginning to fade from blue to black, and slowly, very slowly, pinpricks of stars began to be visible.

Jeff had half a mind to mention that to John, but he decided that his son was not in any condition to be stargazing out the window. John's paling complexion was enough deterrent on its own. The blond-haired astronomer looked ready to pass out.

"Main launch complete," the computer chimed, and the ship shuddered as the chemical boosters cut out. Another much lower and deeper rumble started, as Jeff slowly brought the particle accelerator on-line. Carefully, so as not to jump the ship, he activated the spatial drive. The forward acceleration smoothed out, and Thunderbird Three drifted gracefully out of the atmosphere into the void.

As gravity abated slightly, and Three began to enter into orbit, the feeling of weightlessness began to take over. Thankful for the seat strap, Jeff ignored the sudden and continual feeling of dropping, and brought the ship onto an intercept course with the satellite.

"C-c-c-course looks good," Brains stuttered, adding minor corrections to the positioning. "It won't take long, the station is nearly synchronised directly over the island."

At Brains suggestion, Thunderbird Five had been positioned in a geo-synchronised orbit high above Tracy Island, where it would always be in a place to communicate with the main base. Sure enough, it was already visible through the view-port, as a small glittering object amongst the stars.

Grinning at the joy of once again being in space, Jeff couldn't help but feel elated. He was a businessman, for sure, but his heart remained that of an astronaut. The experience of a launch was like nothing else in the world.

A nauseated sounding voice drifted from behind the command console. "I don't want to do that ever again."

"Did you vomit?"

"No," John replied slowly, his voice ragged. "But it all feels the same to me. The launch. The weightlessness. It all makes me want to puke. This has nothing to do with me being scared."

"That's all right," Jeff replied, keeping his attention on the approach vector screen. "It's still just like conquering a phobia. Weightlessness takes some getting used to. Look at it this way, John. You're one step up from where you were when you rode the centrifuge."

His face worried, Brains offered, "I-i-i-i'll have the gravity generator integrated for the next flight."

"It's too late for that," interrupted Jeff quietly, "we're already up here. But we need to get the system installed on Five as soon as possible." Gazing at John, he continued in a whisper, "He's in no condition to help anyone out or do any form of technical work. He can barely think."

"But I can still hear!" John's voice carried a small touch of irritation to it. "I'll be fine."

Jeff glanced back at John dubiously. "Three seconds ago you were saying how sick you were."

"I'm fine," John declared emphatically.

"You're stubborn," Jeff argued, his own voice carrying a hint of annoyance. "Immensely so."

"So are you."

Unable to argue with such a true statement, Jeff shook his head and focused all of his attention on the computer. "Approach looks good."

The sound of both Brains and John chuckling didn't help.

Thunderbird Five loomed large in the view-port, its massive radio arrays reflecting the harsh glare of the sun. Its docking port protruded to one side, breaking the otherwise symmetrical pattern of the habitation ring.

An audible click sounded in the cockpit as Three gently connected with the station, the automatic docking system generating an airlock between the two ships. Weightlessness finally set in completely as Three came to a full stop, lifting the three astronauts up in their seats.

"Sick?" Jeff asked humorously, noting the look on the face of his lead engineer.

"A b-b-b-bit," Brains responded honestly, busy trying to undo his crash harness. "I'd m-m-m-much rather stay on the ground."

"Stupid seat belts."

Startled by the tone coming from his normally passive son, Jeff unstrapped himself from his seat and kicked himself forward with the practised art of a man who had been in space far too often. He floated slowly across the cockpit until he was within arms reach of John's seat.

"It releases here," he offered dryly, pushing a button that unhooked the harness with one loud snap.

Looking slightly embarrassed, John shook his head and carefully pushed himself from the seat. "I knew that." The younger Tracy glanced down at the floor, which lay several inches below his feet, with a mixture of awe and distaste. "This is nothing like training."

"No, it's not," Jeff replied quietly, "real space is nothing like weightlessness in the diving pool. No amount of courage can convince your stomach that it's not suffering from food poisoning. Think you can handle it?"

Tossing his father a determined glare, John gave the seat a push and succeeded in slamming himself full force into the nearest control panel. His shoulder collided heavily with the console, and his faced cringed up in pain. It was obvious, Jeff noted with mild amusement, that he was biting back several more lines of profanity.

"Little kicks, John. Pretend you're swimming."

"I know, Dad."

Finally, after several attentive minutes, Jeff was able to direct both John and Brains to the main airlock. The engineer dragged several large crates behind him, containing what he claimed to be the beginnings of an artificial gravity generator.

Silently, Jeff cued the airlock switch and waited as the system began to cycle atmosphere through the empty crawl space in between the two ships. A green light flashed when it finished, and the door slowly lifted up to reveal a drab, greyish interior that was furnished with girders, pylons, and loose bits of fibre optic wiring.

Jeff and Brains jumped through the door immediately, but John hung back, his eyes jumping around at the mess floating about inside. He didn't say anything, but his face showed obvious surprise at the state of disarray that the satellite was in. "This is a mess," he finally muttered, shaking his head.

"It was never meant to be suitable for habitation," Jeff laughed sadly, "only for the occasional service calls. You're lucky that the interior is even radiation and air tight, or we would be flying around in helmets and air packs."

"I-i-i-it was lucky that we brought along the extra oxygen tanks," Brains added, "as the station is normally kept in a vacuum. It k-k-keeps the circuits preserved better. Though," he added as an afterthought, "I, uh, suppose that won't be possible any longer."

"This is a mess," John stated again, letting go of the pack that he carried with him so that it floated in mid air.

For a moment, a glimmer of hope sounded in Jeff's brain. He thought, briefly, that maybe John would be deterred by the enormity of the task at hand and would forget the whole thing.

Putting on a determined face, John shook his head, grabbed the pack again, and propelled himself forward along the walls. "Well, we'd better get started." His voice carried with it the seriousness of a man on a mission. "I don't want to be doing this all night."

He would not be distracted, Jeff thought in dismay. John had made up his mind, and he would not stop until he was finished. He wondered how long it would take his son to bring the station to a state of peak efficiency.

"We have to seal these wires," John's voice echoed from around the corner, a small hint of happiness finally coming back to it. "We should probably pump the air out, don the suits, and do it in a vacuum. That way they'll be permanently preserved as long as this station is up and running."

"Can you float me a hammer?"

Laughing, Jeff Tracy reached into the utility pack on his belt and pulled out a long metal cudgel. "I'm a bit worried giving this to you. What are you going to hit?"

"The computer," responded John, catching the floating tool in his free hand. Below him, the main computer console lay exposed, its circuits and wires open to the vacuum of the station. Jeff and John were both wearing complete space suits and were communicating via a set of short-wave radios.

Shaking his head and hoping that John knew what he was doing, Jeff couldn't hold back a cringe as his son brought the hammer down directly onto a support girder. The steel dented, then bent completely over as John hit it again and again. Finally, the piece was doubled over enough to fit nicely under the cover that Brains had fashioned for the console.

Fingering the delicate instruments, John gave a quick look to make sure everything was in order. When he was satisfied that nothing was amiss, he grabbed the console cover - which was floating to the right of his head - and fitted it carefully over the opening.

The hard part came next.

Without making a sound, John activated the arch welder that he carried with him and set the current against a piece of metal that he held in his other hand. The metal was an alloy that Brains had developed, one that melted at a low temperature like copper, but resisted the rusting that both copper and iron were prone to.

"Careful," Jeff warned his son, a bead of sweat rolling down his brow. "We don't want to short the main computer."

They had been up on the station for a total of three days, most of which had been spent cleaning up the mess that had never been righted from the day of launch. Brains had spent his time installing the gravity generator and array modifiers, and it looked as though the entire station would be operational again very soon. During that time, the entire International Rescue organization had been offline with the computer, and Jeff was anxious to get it running again.

"I know," John muttered, watching the welder carefully to make sure that the current didn't jump into the integrated circuits. "The last thing that I want to do is have another lunch break in zero-g." Finally, as the metal began to melt, he took the piece and dragged it along the razor fine edge of the console. A few taps in the right places had the cover sitting solidly in its spot.

"Good boy."

John snorted in amusement. "Yes, father dearest." He couldn't hold back a smile from his lips. "I'm so glad that I am privy to your praise and affection."

Jeff raised an eyebrow. "You are a mouthy child."

"Only the best."

The entire conversation was entertaining, given that John was far from the rudest member of his family and rarely spoke badly about anyone at all. His poor mood had subsided as the three men had gone about repairs, and Jeff was beginning to think that John would manage all right after all. The initial shock of the flight had obviously worn off, and Jeff could see in his son's eyes a soft glimmer of excitement. Jeff had felt the same thing years ago, when he had first set foot in a space shuttle. And the way in which he moved about the station, as if he had spent his childhood in zero gravity, suggested a growing tolerance to the environment that would overcome any phobia or physical debility.

He could retake the NASA test and pass. I know he could now.

John was quiet for a long moment, eyes watching the electricity flicker back and forth from prong to prong on the welder. His face grew distant, as though his mind were someplace else.

Using the wall as a brace, Jeff launched himself gently so that his momentum took him to the console where John worked. He caught himself on the newly installed cover, grabbing the corner of the computer station with his hands. "Penny for your thoughts?"

A quiet chuckle escaped John's lips. "You can pay more than that, Dad. But the thoughts aren't worth much more than a penny."

"Sure they are." The two men floated side by side, staring at the dimly lit command room that was just beginning to look like anything other than a storage bay.

"I'm scared to look."

The comment was not what Jeff was expecting. "What?"

"I'm scared to look," John repeated, his voice soft. "I'm scared that once I see them it'll be enough. I'm scared that I'll want to go back down. I've been avoiding every window in this place, and on Thunderbird Three, since we arrived. I don't want to loose this feeling," he gestured with his hand helplessly. "I can't explain it. It's just there, Dad."

Jeff didn't have to ask what 'they' were. "Maybe you should look."

"Why?"

"Because whether you look now or later it won't change anything. Why not settle your mind?" Jeff laughed mildly. "John, I'm not happy about you deciding to stay up here. But I want you to be happy, not me."

Glumly, John replied, "I just hope that the feeling wasn't a spur of the moment type feeling. I can't go back to NASA now."

"It wasn't," Jeff assured him, his eyes glowing with the pride of a father. "Because I can look at you and I can see a man that has a destination in mind. You want to get somewhere, and you won't give up until you get there."

"I did with NASA, too."

"You wanted to make it to the training," Jeff corrected quietly, "which you did. You wanted to feel as though you were doing something important. But I don't think you ever meant to get to the job."

John's face became instantly unreadable, as though he had withdrawn into a concrete shell. "You don't know that."

"You've been doing it since your mother died. You've been trying to become something special. I know you, John. You're my son. And somewhere in your heart you decided that NASA wasn't going to cut it. No matter what you wanted to do for your mother, NASA wasn't the answer."

The words that left Jeff Tracy's mouth were the unspoken ones that had been with him since John had failed his initial training. Even then he had seen the pain in his son's eyes, and he had known that John had not only been trying to please his father.

"Maybe." Pain was evident in John's voice. "Maybe that's what's driving me now. Maybe I don't want to-"

"Disappoint her," Jeff finished for his son, his own face creased with the memories of his wife. "John, I understand the feeling." He sighed and folded his arms across his chest. His eyes became distant, as though he was seeing into a past long gone. "We're both men who've become - some would say - too obsessed with something that is no longer here. We can't bring your mother back, and that's a fact."

"I know."

"But." The word hung in the air. "That hasn't stopped either of us from trying."

His eyes blinking rapidly, John looked close to tears. "Dad-"

"We've all done something," Jeff explained, "to remember your mother by. Scott became another parent for you boys when Lucy died. Gordon made us laugh, like she used to. Virgil shared his music and art when she couldn't. Alan gave us his innocence to care for, in place of hers. I created International Rescue so that others would be spared the same experience."

"What about me?" John asked quietly.

Jeff thought for a long moment before he spoke. "You," he finally replied, "reminded us that there were still things to fight for, even if they were lost in a place where we could no longer see them. You didn't give up. You fought for your career. You fought in the memory of your mother. You still do, John. And your mother never gave up either. She died fighting."

"I'm not a warrior."

"Inside you are. We're both stubborn men, John, but you're more like her than you know." His voice wavered as he spoke. "You have your mother's eyes, and you have her heart. John, you're here because you love this family and you love the ideals that International Rescue is based upon. They're the ideals that your mother taught you when you were little. You didn't love NASA. But you loved your mother, and you wanted to make her proud." Jeff closed his eyes, deep in thought. "You love your mother as much as I do. We both are afraid to let her go. That's why we're here today. But that's not why you're here now, John. You're here because you truly want to be here."

No more needed to be said, for Jeff had revealed more of his thoughts to John than he had to any of his sons in many years. He had said far more than most fathers would ever say to their children in a lifetime.

Shaking his head, John bit his lip, snapped off the welder, and turned away to face the bulkhead. "And what would she do in this situation?"

Jeff didn't offer an answer.

John didn't wait for one. He had a feeling that Jeff wouldn't say what they both already knew. Instead, he let the welder fall from his hands, then buried his face in his gloves. He couldn't touch his own skin, but the act was enough to calm him down. A few long breaths gave him enough stamina to continue. "Okay. Brains?" He flipped a switch on his sleeve and opened the secondary frequency.

"Y-y-y-yes, John?"

"How's everything at your end?"

"I-i-i-i've been finished for a while now," the engineer replied. "H-h-h-how about you?"

"We're done," John whispered, "and we're ready."

"All right, then. Y-y-y-you should be able to flip the breaker from the main console."

John looked over at his father and nodded. "He says to go for it."

Positioning himself aside the main power coupling, Jeff took the clamp in his hands and gave it a hard tug. The switch snapped downward, and electricity immediately flooded through the miles of fibre optics and silicon that composed the Thunderbird Five computer mainframe. The command room lit up as the computer booted. Newly installed screens flashed on, and soon the entire area was bathed in a white glow.

Knowing what he had to do, Jeff tweaked the control that managed the blast windows. There was a metallic shudder, which carried through the entire station, and the doors slowly began to open, revealing a spectacular panorama of Earth through the main view port. It was the first time that the windows had ever been opened, and Jeff knew, from the look on his son's face, that it would not be the last.

Fighting back tears, John moved slowly to the front of the command center, and laid a single hand against the clear barrier. The synthesised material was so transparent it was as though he was looking through nothing but space itself.

I can touch the sky, John thought in wonderment, trying to hold in the flurry of emotions that were threatening to overcome him. It's indescribable. The giddy feeling that had been welling in his chest jump upped into his throat, and a tiny gasp escaped his lips. All of the times that he had spent stargazing on the planet were nothing compared to what he saw out of the window. It went beyond words with its beauty.

For the first time in many years he looked on the naked sky without a hint of sadness or pain. There was no room in his chest for sorrow, and no space in his heart for Lucy Tracy and the emotions that her memory brought to him when he looked at the stars. There was only a pure and untamed joy, untapped since a twelve year old boy had looked up into space. That feeling took him in and wrapped his mind about the sight in a way that refused to let him leave the window.

It was something that he had always dreamed of seeing. Now the stars were so close, so tangible, that they were the only things in the universe that mattered. He was lost.

And then, for a brief and lingering moment, his mother's face disappeared from the constellations, from the ethereal place that she had always remained in since she had died, and was replaced with his own reflection in the pale aluminium alloy glass of the space station.

The comm cackled, though only Jeff heard Brains' concerned query. "M-m-m-mister Tracy, is everything all right?"

Smiling sadly, for he knew that his son was lost to him, possibly forever, Jeff replied, "Everything is just fine."

But it was only for a moment. In the twinkling of a star, in the imperceptible change in magnitude caused by the depth of the glass, the feeling of personal glory vanished and was replaced by a feeling of guilt.

Hearing his father's voice in the background, John tried to focus on it instead of the quiet and whispering melody that had begun to play in the back of his mind.

"John."

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"John. Aren't they pretty?"

"Let's turn in for the night. I think I need some sleep."

"John."

"Sure. Brains, did you hear that? We're pulling back to the ship."

"R-r-r-right, Mister Tracy."

"Thanks, Dad."

"John."

"No problem, John. We can finish up the installations over the next few days."

"John."

"Right."

"Good-night, Johnny."

A/N: And so concludes Part II, as well as this semester of classes! Thank-you everyone for being patient during this time - I wasn't expecting to be so busy, but I ended up devoting almost all of my time since my last update to studying. Good news: you can read on knowing that you will reach the end, because I have the story completed. Even better news: if things go as planned, I could be updating as much as five times a week from this point until the end. :) Before I do anything else, I need to thank Ariel D for taking the time out to beta read this chapter - thank you!

Response to reviewers:

Marblez - Consider yourself a very enthusiastic fan. ;) It could work just as well.
ladc - Glad to hear that you liked it, I thought the same thing when I was writing it. He's selfless, but I also couldn't see him working too long in a position that he didn't like. He'd find something better.
Ariel D - I feel bad that I was never able to go into detail about Alicia's character. Oh well, there are always other stories …
clairie - I wonder if that's why he was stuck with the lavender sash as well … Great to have you reading! It's great to have more readers. As for Gordon, I won't say anything right now. ;) Just keep reading.
zeilfanaat - James' look: Definitely concern. As much as Brains is often the punch line of jokes in the series and the movie, I've always thought that he's still a very with it and life-savvy man. He knows the risk that John's about to take, and I think he sees how John is very different from everyone else and he's concerned about his physical and mental health. You're not reading into it too much - it was semi-intentional. ;)
Antilles - To clarify, I don't repost the reviews: I respond to my reviewers. I do this because I appreciate the fact that people review my work, and I like to return the favour. :) That said, glad to have you here! Believe it or not, the irony was not intentional …
barb from utah - You have my utmost respect. :D And it really means a lot for me to hear you say that I've portrayed Jeff properly. I'll try and keep that up in the later chapters.
andrewjameswilliams - I couldn't write it without putting in some techo-garble. ;) And I really did want to show why John would need to go up on the space station, since it is dangerous up there.
Assena - Personally, I think Alan will get there eventually. He's a good kid, he just lets his desire to be like his brothers get in the way of things. I don't know if he'd like being alone, though. And yep, Gordon is the master. ;)

Catch Part III of this set, entitled "Spirit's of the Night", where John makes the most difficult decision of his life. Until then, FAB!