'Allo! Sorry to take so long about posting, today. The scene "showed up" around six AM, this morning. Thanks, Bow Echo, Tikatu and Whirl Girl, for your reviews and encouragement. I appreciate all that you do! =)

6

In that stupid, dang tunnel, behind all the others-

Alan Tracy hovered in back, feeling about as useful as fins and feathers on a motorcycle. Up front, Dad, Scott and Uncle Lee were trying one scheme after another to bring down that semi-transparent red force wall. After all, John had got out. How hard could it be? Thing was, the shield blocking their path seemed to be connected to the lines of force which kept that unstable burrow from falling right on their heads. So, turn off one, bring down the other… but they were all too busy to listen.

Virgil had gone back up the tunnel a ways, testing for weak spots he could excavate. Meanwhile, Gordon and Kayo were still working on that sudden cousin, of hers, and… yeah. Great. Even more competition. Not that, y'know, she'd ever notice a skinny, half-bald-headed nub like him. Not with heavy-hitters like Scott, John and Virgil around. Heck, even Gordon stood a better chance of scoring with Kayo, than he did.

And now she had these weird, eerie mind powers? Like the Hood? And she'd kidnapped them all out here, to help her "real" family? Maybe she'd seen how he felt about her? Seen what he dreamt of, on the regular? If he could have, Alan would've ceased existing, right there on the spot.

Instead, he made himself focus on Parker and Lady P, who were trying to rejigger a wrist comm to broadcast outside of that blocked, stuffy tunnel. No luck, so far, but then Alan got actually interested, volunteered his personal phone, and started making suggestions, 'cause, A: he wanted to mask his own yearning thoughts, and, 2: it made him feel less like a fifth, overhead wheel.

Then… crap. A whole bunch of stuff happened at once. He heard all activity stop, up front. The sudden silence made him look around. (Okay, main difference between him and John… besides, y'know, everything major… he wasn't obsessive about projects. Would actually stop working, without a direct order.)

Looking out through the tunnel mouth, Scott whispered,

"Holy Mother of God…!"

Followed by Penny's,

"Oh, dear. How distressing!"

Craning past the others, Alan saw it, too. They all did. Coming in low over the ocean, was a long, bumpy grey ship. Drones began pouring out of it, like black, red-flashing smoke. Then, it opened fire with the biggest dang laser beam Alan had seen since their mission to Titan. Violet in color, and maybe a hundred feet in diameter, the beam sliced through the water, raising an instant fog of smelly steam. The Mechanic; back to finish what he'd started.

On the bright side… or maybe not… that force wall collapsed, freeing them all to act. See, some people run away from danger. Some of them hurry straight into it, meaning to save others. And, some had to calm their breathing, cross their fingers, and follow the big guns into trouble, hoping just not to look stupid.

Dad, Scott, Virgil and Gordon got down from that ruined volcano in no time, at all. Not that much faster than Uncle Lee, though; who made like Sir Ernest Shackleton, found some convenient ice, and just coasted on down, actually whooping and hollering.

Lady Penelope glanced at Parker, who bowed, and handed her toward the ice-slide, saying,

"H' after you, Milady."

Then, they both took Captain Taylor's way down. Alan would have followed straightaway, but it was kind of obvious that Kayo was having a hard time leaving her badly-hurt cousin. Gathering up all his courage, as frickin' Ragnarok started up, down below, the boy reached over and clumsily patted her arm.

"C'mon, Kay," he told her, over the noise of wind and machinery. "We gotta get down there. Make him as safe and stable as you can, and let's go. The guy who caused all this is over there, trying to kill people. We gotta help stop him, okay? They need us."

Her head whipped around as she looked at him; wild and beautiful, and surrounded by a smoke-cloud of wind-blown dark hair. Then,

"I'm coming," she whispered, in a voice made scratchy by unshed tears. "You go on ahead, Alan."

So, yeah. Zero charisma and leadership points for good ol' Al. He played it off with a crooked smile and another awkward pat, then lost all his cred by thumping down on his skinny butt and riding the Lee Taylor ice-o-matic. Told himself, as the wind and rocks hissed past,

"It's a videogame, Al. Just a big, noisy game. Defend the base, stop the aliens, beat the boss." Except, his pounding heart and ragged breathing didn't really believe that.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Down below, at ground level-

John had turned to stand back-to-back with the cyborg female, as wave after wave of buzzing, clattering drones poured out of that hurtling hive ship. His one muttered comment,

"Oh, sh*t,"

...was the last he'd speak for quite some time. Jaeger withdrew from the mountainside, then flared up and out of the astronaut's suit, flashing from drone to drone and blowing them up in midair. Looked like fireworks, smelt of sulphur, and pelted them all with a hailstorm of falling machinery. Not having an actual weapon, John was reduced to tearing apart whatever got through, with his bare hands. Sometimes was able to use a torn-away metal leg as a club, until too dented for use, then had to cast his crude weapon aside, again.

Behind him, the female cyborg took aim and fired repeatedly. So did her guards. Fog rolled in from the sea, billowing away from a huge, violet laser beam. Same one that had hit them in space, maybe… only a h*lluva lot closer, this time. Wouldn't just give them a boost, either.

The rhythm of leap, grab, dodge pincers and stun bursts, tear and smash (just another day at the office) was interrupted by a sudden change in his suit's pressure. Jaeger was still in the air, his progress marked by a Russian overture of exploding drones. Now, the suit clamped down… differently; less rough protection, more frantic embrace. Eos. Hoping she'd somehow pick up the subvocals, he whispered,

"Welcome back, Sweetie… get in there… stop… urf… Sentinel!"

The giant beam had reached shallower water, was lancing straight for them like the blade of a band saw. Bastard was toying with them. Could've aimed that thing wherever he wanted to, but meant to have fun, first. The suit squeezed him gently, in Morse code "yes", and then she was gone.

Meanwhile, Scott had been tossed a weapon by one of the cyborgs, and began firing with cool, rapid efficiency. Didn't bother to aim, as that cloud of drones was so thick, that any shot upward was bound to hit something. At his back, facing the other way, stood Virgil, using his plasma cutter and exo-suit to satisfy customers on the other side of that crowded and rattling sky.

The purple laser was getting closer by the moment, but there wasn't a d*mn thing Scott could do about it. Had his hands full with an apocalyptic nightmare of drones. On the plus side, the cyborgs around him projected a force field that blocked all their "sting bursts". Scott lost track of how long he fought; how many spent weapons he threw aside, only to have a fresh one thrust into his hands by a nearby mech-woman.

Funny thing was, even with all the explosions and buzzing, the impact of blazing coherent light on cold seawater, he could still hear Virgil's running commentary, behind him. Fake apologies, mostly, interspersed with humming and bursts of loud song. Over their heads, a succession of hurtling drones erupted in midflight, destroyed by a zapping streak of red light. Bits of mech clattered around and against them; burning-hot, and sharp as razors. They kept fighting, anyhow, because Grandma, Brains and John were out there, somewhere.

Jeff was with Lee, Parker and Penny, firing a donated gun from the partial shelter of a cluster of tall rocks. Taylor shot his old laser rifle the way he'd been trained to; from the prone position, like a sniper. A handful of cyborgs were present, as well, and they picked off dive-bombing drones with machine-like accuracy, providing cover for the slower, less efficient 'meatlings'. Jeff shot standing up, while Penny and Parker knelt back to back in front of him, handling whatever came in from the sides.

Gordon had raced over to the force bubble protecting Grandma, and all of those wounded people. Like John, he mostly used his hands, at first, until someone thought to sling him a weapon. Particle-beam thrower, shaped like a big, chromed rifle. Right away, he named her "Jenny", and fell in love. Others cast aside their spent weapons. Gordon Tracy demanded new charge packs, and got them, too. Might have been mistaken, but felt pretty sure that he'd gotten his butt grabbed a few times, in the process. Apparently, half-machine females were just as randy as the all-flesh ones. Sadly, Gordon was too busy to properly thank them all for their interest. Later, maybe.

Then, he saw Alan, doing the broken-field run from hell, trying to reach his position through smoke, fog and explosions. The blond young astronaut ran with lungs on fire and heart near to bursting, batting with his hands at that horde of flying, droning mechs. The force bubble was just ahead, and so was Gordon, who raced over to meet him and provide some cover. Alan didn't have time to say anything, ask what to do, because his athletic brother just seized hold and flung him at the force shielded field hospital, shouting,

"Get inside! Help Grandma and everyone else!"

He skidded across icy rock and snow patches, tripped, flailed, and was caught by Grandma and Brains, just inside that sparking blue field, where the noise and chaos were muted, somewhat. The old lady peered into his face, looking worried.

"You okay, Sprout?" she asked.

Seriously? Heck, no, he wasn't okay! But he managed to calm his breathing and even smile, a little.

"Sure, Grandma… just fine… Gordon sent me in here to help you guys… what can I do?"

It was Brains who answered, from his spot beside the newest victim.

"J- Just keep the m- machines at bay, and, ah… and allow us t- to work, Alan."

"Right. Okay," Alan piped up, head bobbing like a plastic toy's. "I can do that."

He didn't like guns. Didn't want one, but had no choice, really. Throwing rocks didn't help much, at all. He'd tried. Instead, accepting a weapon with gingerly caution, Alan focused mostly on defense. That, and rushing forth to drag injured cyborgs out of danger and back to the field hospital. Didn't realize that he was crying, until later. But, all the explosions, people getting hurt, that taunting, slow-moving laser… his brothers out there, somewhere, fighting for their lives… Kayo, doing God knows what… felt like the end of the world to Alan Tracy.

Then, as he was blasting a drone that had swooped onto Gordon's back from behind, something like an armoured thunderbolt came hurtling down into the field hospital. Landing with a crash atop Brains, it straightened from its feral crouch like a slow-stretching leopard. The Mechanic.

Grandma rose stiffly from the cyborg patient she'd been treating. Leveled her borrowed rifle before Alan could even bring his around, and snapped,

"Git out! There's hurt folks, here, and you ain't gonna touch one hair on their heads. Move it, Tin-Man!"

The Mechanic barked a short laugh, and rumbled,

"Whatever you say 'Grandma'… but not alone."

The last thing that Alan saw, was a big metal hand grabbing at his smoke-burnt throat. The last thing he felt, those hard metal fingers closing tight round his neck, as he was lifted entirely off of his feet.