Out Of Place
AN – I'm so sorry for the way the last chapter ended! And… well, for stringing you out a bit further. This chapter, as always when I write about the TAG world, surprised me but I hope you like it.
Disclaimer – I don't own Thunderbirds
Chapter Twenty-One – Blowing a Fuse
Scott sat uncomfortably in the cockpit of Thunderbird 2, occasionally pulling at his uniform. It was much heavier and more fitted than the one he usually wore, the clunky sash dug into his shoulder and the boots made his feet feel like they were in a vice. He guessed that he was lucky the other Scott had a spare uniform stashed on Thunderbird 2 at all, but right now he wished he'd been allowed to stay in the jeans and shirt that he'd been wearing earlier.
It was strange being on Thunderbird 2 full stop, standing behind Virgil with Gordon, both of them watching as they decreased altitude and started sweeping across the ocean towards the stricken cargo ship. Scott could see it up ahead now, listing in the waves that were tossing it around like a toy.
Gordon exhaled loudly upon seeing it. "What's your plan, Virgil?"
"Come in Thunderbird 2," The other Scott's hologram appeared above the controls. Or was he the other Scott? This wasn't his dimension after all. Scott shook his head to focus while the other Scott was talking.
"Virgil, there are six crew members in that thing, apparently separated. One set of three are on the forward deck but the second have become trapped in the rear hold. Some of the debris has blocked them in."
"FAB Scott," Virgil replied as he deftly flew the craft around the grasping waves. "I'll let Gordon deal with the ones on the surface and I'll take the exosuit to look for the others. Any sign of the Chaos Crew?"
"Nothing," the holographic Scott grumbled. "I don't like it, I'm going to land on the deck and take a look around."
"Alright, but be careful," Virgil warned his older brother before hanging up. He looked around at his passengers. "I'm going to lower the access hatch," he explained. "I'll leave Thunderbird 2 airborne in case we need to get away quickly but anchor it to the deck. Both of you get out, Scott you look around and see if anything looks unusual. You tap the International Rescue logo on your shoulder to contact us. Gordon, you heard our Scott – the three up front are on you. Bring the passenger lift down to get them."
"Sure, boss," Gordon replied, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. Virgil shook his head in amusement.
"Are you ready? We're nearly here."
"FAB," both Gordon and Scott chorused, Scott standing on the hatch that Gordon pointed out to him. With a deft flick, Virgil fired a harpoon that connected Thunderbird 2 to the deck of the cargo ship. He then joined them on the hatch, but not before grabbing a large green construction that seemed to attach to his utility belt.
"What is that?" Scott asked, incredulity and awe in his voice.
"Oh, this thing?" Virgil smirked. "Just a little thing I like to call the Jaws of Life."
"Does Scott use anything like that?" Scott asked, still eyeing it up with envy.
"Scott do heavy lifting?" Gordon laughed. "Fat chance. I think he has a jet pack somewhere, but that's about it."
"Shame," Scott replied wistfully.
Virgil snickered at him. "Come on, lets go on down." With a touch of a button the hatch started lowering down, acting as a lift to the deck below.
Virgil jumped off it when it was still some height above the deck, the exo-suit taking the brunt of the force. Gordon rolled his eyes again and snorted. "Show off," he muttered to Scott who just smiled back. It was very easy to fall into the familiar banter with this version of his family, it was all very like being at home.
Eventually the lift was close enough to the deck for both Scott and Gordon to hop down. Gordon immediately started running towards the crew still stood on the front deck, whereas Scott started to look around for anything untoward.
An open hatch to the cargo hold made him suspicious, creeping over to the edge he listened closely. Even over the swell of the sea he could hear voices in the hold, he couldn't be sure but it sounded as though it was a man and a woman.
There was a roar as Thunderbird 1 landed on the deck, the far side of the ship he was currently at. His counterpart dropped out of the cockpit and sprinted over.
"Found anything?" He asked, once he reached Scott's location. Scott pointed down into the hold.
"Sounds like a man and a woman down there, not crew as they've been accounted for."
"Havoc and Fuse," the other Scott muttered, eyes narrowing. "I'm going to go down and see what I can find out. You keep an eye up here."
"Wait-" Scott started, but his counterpart had already jumped down. Scott shook his head, he was beginning to understand what his father meant when he said Scott was stubborn. Instead of staying right by the access hatch, he began to walk around the rest of the deck looking for anything suspicious.
He was to the starboard side of the hold hatch when his head collided solidly with something – except there was nothing there. "What on earth?" He muttered, rubbing his temple and looking at the nothing he'd collided with. Except…wait, was that a shimmer? Placing his hands out in front of him, Scott could feel the cold smoothness of metal underneath his fingertips. "Well now," he murmured, tracing the outline of what felt like an engine. An engine mounted on a hinged pivot… "A VTOL," Scott muttered. "Vertical Take-Off and Landing. That's pretty swell, not sure I've seen anything like this before."
He was so caught up with tracing the design of the craft that he was taken by surprise when a voice called out from behind him.
"Yeah, yeah, let me just load this. I don't know what the boss wants all this junk for anyway."
Scott turned to see the back of a man's head emerge from the hatch, bleached blond braids aligned in neat rows against a dark head. The man hadn't seen Scott yet, but it was only a matter of time.
Scott slipped the far side of the VTOL engine and weighed up his options. This craft was obviously using some form of advance shielding to bend light around itself, projecting the image behind it in front of it… maybe he could use this to his advantage. He stretched out fingers behind him and felt another structure like the engine in front. It would need four for stability if it didn't have wings…
Fuse frowned as he thought he heard a sound behind him. He spun around, but there was nothing to see on the deck.
Scott held on tight, praying that his grip would hold out. Not being able to see what he was holding onto was disconcerting, but the tall man had just looked straight through him. That meant his plan was working – stringing himself up between the two port side VTOL engines on this invisible craft, feet braced against one while he held onto the other for dear life, allowing the cloaking on the craft to cover him too. After all, if it was projecting what was behind them to the front it had to do so past both sets of engines. Such a clever piece of technology, he wondered idly whether Brains could be persuaded to come up with something similar for Thunderbird 1.
But great as his plan was, it put a lot of strain through a body that hadn't been sticking to its usual workout regime since landing in this dimension. As the man seemed to idle on the deck, Scott found himself getting more and more fatigued as he held on by his fingertips. His arms were beginning to shake and a bead of sweat was working its way down from his brow. The rolling motion of the ship wasn't helping at all.
Eventually the man disappeared back inside the hold and Scott dropped to the ground with a sigh of relief. He wondered what was taking the other Scott so long down in the hold.
Not being able to do anything about that, he continued his movement around the craft. Eventually he found some form of access hatch at the rear – as soon as he moved past the entrance the ship materialised around him.
"I guess that's the cloaking then," he commented, looking around the inside. The technology was very different to what he was used to, but he really didn't want to give any indication that he'd been in there. Tentatively he pressed the logo on his sash.
"Hello Polite Scott, how can I be of assistance?" Eos asked primly.
"Hello Eos, I wondered if you had any way of tracking something? A device, or similar?"
"I believe Scott keeps them in the fifth compartment from the left on his utility belt for situations where a casualty may be misplaced," Eos replied.
Scott dug around and found a small metal disk. "This is great Eos, do you know how I use it?"
"You affixed the flat side to a smooth surface and then press the centre of the other side. Once activated, I will be able to track it anywhere on the Earth."
Following directions, Scott pressed the disk against the underside of one of the consoles. "Do you get that signal?"
"Loud and clear, Polite Scott."
"Thanks a million, Eos." Scott took one last glance around the inside of the craft, his fingers itching to turn on consoles and see how it flew. But that wouldn't be productive. With a sigh he slipped out of the door, the craft disappearing from his sight again.
Almost as soon as he was out, he heard a shout from behind him. "Hey!" Spinning around, Scott could see the braided man was again climbing out of the hatch, but it wasn't Scott he was shouting at. On the far side of the deck Gordon and Virgil were trying to load the last couple of crew members into Thunderbird 2. "It's International Rescue!" The man bellowed down into the hold. There was a reply that Scott couldn't hear, but then the man raised his right fist and slammed it down on the ground.
As he did so, a shockwave emanated from the glove that knocked Scott off his feet. He could see Gordon and two of the crew members in the distance suffering the same fate. But much more concerning was that fact that the shock wave had also caused a large crack to open up on the deck where the stricken cargo ship could not hold it's integrity any more. A crack that separated Virgil and the last crew member from Gordon and rescue.
The man chuckled and brought his fist up to slam it down again. As he did so Scott acted without hesitating – he drew the blaster out of his holster and fired at the man's arm. Even from his distance he could see the shot was true, the blast ripping through the man's shoulder before decimating the gauntlet encasing his hand. With a strangled cry the man fell back down the hold.
Scott was going to follow suit when a mechanical groan had him looking up. Thunderbird 1 was beginning to slide towards the crack in the hull. Ignoring the fact it wasn't even his own beloved ship, Scott sprinted towards the craft. When he got there he only had moments to act before it fell from the deck and he did so instinctively, leaping into the extending bucket seat and somehow finding the button that pulled it back into the cockpit. It lurched again as Scott stared at the unfamiliar controls, before years of flight training kicked in and the engines spluttered to life when he found the ignition. Grasping the handles, he pulled sharply backwards and the rocket took to the skies with a roar, just as the deck it had been standing on collapsed into the sea.
Gordon was just helping the last of the crew members into the passenger lift when a roar from behind made him realise Thunderbird 1 was taking off. Virgil also looked up with a frown.
"Nice of Scott to let us know he was heading out."
Gordon became distracted by something over Virgil's shoulder. "I'm not sure he did." The blond replied. Virgil turned to look at what Gordon was staring at, flummoxed when he saw his eldest brother running towards them.
"Scott? But what are you doing here?"
Scott was staring up at the sky with something akin to horror on his face. "He stole my thunderbird!"
"Who, Fuse?"" Virgil still looked nonplussed. Scott was so apoplectic he was having trouble getting words out.
"I can't.. but… mine!"
"I think what our esteemed older brother is trying so articulately to tell us," Gordon said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Is that, for some reason, the other Scott has taken Thunderbird 1 and left him stranded here."
"How can he even fly it!" Scott nearly shouted, confusion and bafflement on his face.
Virgil looked at him with an expression of dawning understanding and sympathy. "Come on big bro, looks like you have to ride with us this one time. We'll find out what happened back at the Island, yeah?"
Scott nodded his head dejectedly as he pulled himself into the passenger lift.
"I'm not sure he's ever going to get over this," Gordon stage-whispered to Virgil, who cut him off with a glare.
"How would you feel if it was Thunderbird 4?" He hissed back. "Come on, let's get these people to safety. This thing looks like it could break up at anytime."
Gordon stopped teasing and grabbed hold of the passenger lift, swinging from the outside and saluting Virgil as it rose into the underbelly of Thunderbird 2. Virgil just rolled his eyes at his younger brother's antics before taking the lift back up to the cockpit. He couldn't help but wonder quite why the other Scott had decided to joy ride Thunderbird 1, though.
The whole journey back to the Island, Scott could only stare forlornly out the window of the cockpit and wish he had his own Thunderbird back.
