Hi there, just me again.

18

Mars Base, the space port-

In what he later admitted was a giant mistake, Scott Tracy allowed Thunderbird 3 to land in the base cargo hangar facility; a below-ground docking complex capable of handling everything from zippy, small Interceptors to big, lumbering freighters. Huge, metal gates and force shields protected hangar crews and cargo from the deadly conditions on Mars, while allowing the free passage of traffic and goods.

As that alien derelict tumbled farther away from the planet, Thunderbird 3 blazed down into the hangar on a shimmering column of flame. She fit, just, and was immediately the centre of frantic attention. Green-suited pit crews came racing out of their armoured niches, carrying hoses and fastening lines.

The hangar boss, a Captain Hesse, came forward with an armed guard, the lot of them riding a clanking motorized gantry. It ground its way across the hangar on big metal treads, because the passenger holding area was too far to be reached via boarding tube. Once the mobile steel tower docked with 3's hatch, Hesse welcomed International Rescue, and scanned their ID codes.

Charlie was a problem, as the kid didn't turn up on any populace data base at all, but did trigger a security alert. Evidently, his retinal scan scored a hit on 'inventory', where he was listed as missing.

Scott simply turned on the charm and told the truth; that they'd encountered Charlie as a prisoner of the Hood, and liberated him. By mutual, silent accord, nobody mentioned Beech, or the Mechanic.

Captain Hesse could've been a jerk about the whole thing, but she saw "little boy", not "stolen equipment". Shaking her blonde head, she hit security override, ending that beeping alert.

"Gotta be some kind of mistake," she decided, smiling at Gordon's wide-eyed small shadow. "Bet he was born out in the belt, somewhere, at an illegal mining operation."

One of her Marine guards winced and nodded, saying,

"Belt pirates might've done for his folks, Ma'am, and then tried to sell him. That's what happened to me and my sister. Colonel Tracy stopped 'em, though."

The look he gave Scott was pure, stubborn gratitude. Captain Hesse nodded.

"Happens too often to be remarkable, I'm afraid… but I'm glad the Tracys were able to make a difference for Jennings, over here, and this little guy. You'll find nothing but friends on Mars, Gentlemen."

"Not a little guy. I'm a big guy," insisted Charlie, adding, "I'm a God dan Tracy."

The Marines nearly fell over the railing, laughing at his out-thrust lower lip and fierce scowl. Captain Hesse just smiled at the boy, saying,

"Oh, well… that's different, then. Your pardon, Mister Tracy."

"I'll claim him," Gordon cut in, placing both gloved hands on the boy's thin shoulders. "Have to retro-file an offspring request form, and pay my fines, but… I'll say that he's mine."

Patently ridiculous, because Gordon Tracy wasn't old enough to have fathered an apparently ten-year-old boy. Hesse grinned at him.

"That works," she said. "I'll put off listing your son's arrival until the paperwork's sorted. Wouldn't be the first time we've had to scurry to account for a sudden up-tick in the population of Mars."

The tall, boney captain glanced at her Marines as she said this, but they were all checking their weapons, or the overhead, or the latest perimeter scans. Four more innocent, industrious men you could not have found, anywhere.

As the high metal gantry rattled its way across the hangar floor, parting hurrying crews of technicians and pilots like a big rock in the midst of a flood, Hesse remarked,

"Of course... you'll have to put the boy down as a Martian citizen, or I won't be able to sign off on him."

Gordon nodded his sandy-blond head.

"Yes, Ma'am. Born on Mars. I got it. What birthday?"

"May and July are open," said Scott, who'd been listening with interest. "So's September."

"I vote September," put in Virgil. "It's warmer, then. Better weather. Grandma's gonna be happy. She's always complaining that there aren't any kids around the place. But, um… you can… I mean, he'll…?"

"Not freeze anybody?" asked Alan. "Unless, like, they want to skip a visit from the aunts and cousins, or something. I'd pay to get frozen, through that."

None of this made any sense to Captain Hesse or her escort. But then, the Tracys were allowed their mysterious ways. They were heroes, plain and simple. As the boarding gantry clanged home against a railed cement dock, Hesse changed the subject.

"I've let your teammate know that you've arrived. He should be waiting for you at Airside B, in the private lounge."

Teammate? Scott wondered. When the double airlock swirled open, he peered into the private lounge, and saw who she'd meant.

"John!" the pilot called out, bounding from gantry to spaceport. "Good to see you, Little Brother." And then, seizing his shoulders to give him a sharp, friendly shake, "Why aren't you in Thunderbird 5?!"

"Because I'm here," said the tall astronaut, with inarguable logic. "I, uh… had some intel that you guys could use a hand."

The others were filing through the spaceport doors a few at a time, but for now, it was just Scott, John, smooth jazz, and a few rows of empty chairs. Rather than fuss about orders, Scott groused,

"Would you believe we ended up with the Hood, the Chaos Crew and their two captives? At least one with some kind of weird time powers?"

John considered, as he followed Scott a little farther away from their emerging brothers.

"Well, yeah," he said. "Since you don't usually lie… except to Grandma, about her cooking… I'd believe you." Kane had mentioned other Special families. Maybe the Hood had stolen a few of them?

He didn't get a chance to push that thought any further, because next into the waiting area was Pete McCord. The base commander entered through a door marked "official use only", and headed right for Scott and John. Striding across to join them, their dad's old friend shook both their hands.

"Attention on deck!" snapped Captain Hesse. She, the four Marines and John stood very erect, until McCord said,

"At ease." Then, signaling the two eldest boys aside with a jerk of his head, he murmured, "The object's still slowing down and gaining mass. How, we don't know, unless it can sense and manipulate energy fields. What I do know is, we've got to find a way to stop the d*mn thing, or begin evacuating Earth. Projections have it striking the Pacific Ocean in 33 days. Ideas?"

"That's what we're here to figure out, Sir," Scott assured the short, weary admiral. "We've got people on the case back home, and the four… five of us here, on site. Like Gordon said before, we haven't lost one yet, and we don't mean to start now."

Bold words, but Scott Tracy meant every last one of them.

XXXXXXXXXX

The Chaos Cruiser, at about the same time-

It wasn't difficult to compel Beech's assistance. He was confused, alone and as wary of 'regular' humans as Kane was. Might have been smarter to stay in orbit as directed, but the Mechanic had a grudge to settle, and he'd never been very good at following orders. That's why he piloted that cloaked purple ship to the surface of Mars, near what Beech had identified as a hangar emergency exit.

Scott Tracy… Ramrod… had struggled to manage the Cruiser in flight, because Kane was already her master. No vessel he entered or touched would resist his command… as long as it wasn't too big. The effect wore off with distance. He'd had some fun with the oldest Tracy, though, making the Cruiser balky and slow just to bother him. That had been sport. Now, the Mechanic was after blood, and meant to get what he wanted, in spades.

They touched down with a gentle thump on the red, rock-strewn surface of Mars. It was nearly midday, with a pale little sun high in the pinkish-white sky. The Cruiser was cloaked, but Kane took care to land softly, anyhow. This was going to be surgery, not a massacre.

The Chaos Cruiser's main equipment locker had yielded a few spare environment suits, so he had Beech struggle into one of them. A challenge, because some were too small, while the others… meant for Fuse… were far bigger than his slender ally. No matter. The Mechanic simply altered the chosen suit with a touch and a moment's concentration. Then, after blinding all nearby sensors to their presence, they left the cruiser.

"Don't get distracted, Beech," Kane snarled, when his companion nearly tripped on their boarding ramp, from looking around. "This isn't a d*mn tour, and you're not among family."

"I'm sorry," said the pale-haired young man. "It's just… I've never been off-planet before, and… Well, this is Mars."

Kane followed his gaze for a moment or two, taking in low, wrinkled hills, a distant, keening dust-devil, and lots of rock.

"Looks like Scotland. Only, worse. Shut up and pay attention, Beech. If you die out here, I'll have two bodies to dispose of, instead of just one."

…which was certainly motivational. Kane's fearsome aura was set on low, at the moment, but Cody had no doubt at all that he meant what he said. Their boots crunched and scuffed on sand, ice and dust. Gusty breathing and occasional grunts sounded loud in the young men's comms, as they made their way from the cloaked ship to that half-buried emergency exit hatch.

The red world's gravity was one-quarter that of Earth, so moving around should have been easy, but they'd also just spent a day and a half in space. It was a lot like getting out of the ocean after a very long swim, and then trying to walk on the shore. You got wobbly legs, and had to remember what watching your step was like.

They had plenty of practice time, as Kane hadn't wanted to risk landing the Cruiser too close to a possibly guarded route. Would have worked on erasing their tracks, except that a constant, light wind was doing that for them, already.

Cody had gotten his Mars legs by the time they reached the big, round exit hatch and dusted it off. Kane squatted down to place a gleaming cyborg hand on its pitted dark metal. He was quite a bit more flexible than Beech, wearing some kind of slick, transparent plastic instead of a spacesuit. Didn't rip the hatch open, or anything. Just spoke to it; convincing its mechanism that he had every right to be there, and that it needn't report being opened. Nice trick, that.

Whatever could have gone wrong, tried to occur, Cody shifted away. Since trouble down below might give away their intrusion, the young adept did his best to move the stuff of chaos to that twining, humming dust-devil; making it suddenly stronger.

"Get in," grunted the cyborg, once he'd gotten the outer hatch unlocked and opened. "I'll follow. Don't touch the next hatch. I've still got some explaining to do."

Cody followed instructions. He'd been captured by the Hood, Kane had told him, then rescued when the Tracys and Mechanic boarded and seized the Chaos Cruiser. Now, he was here. Not a captive. Not a friend. Just… useful.

They had to climb down a thirty-foot, wall-mounted ladder to reach the icy inner hatch. Kane did not immediately open it. First, he got to know the operating system and mechanism; touching and reconfiguring as he did so. Next, the big cyborg triggered detox, so that no perchlorates or dust blew into the hangar and betrayed their presence. Only then, with the alarms switched off and alerts disabled, did the Mechanic risk prying open that second hatch.

The rest would be a simple matter of avoiding surveillance and dodging the guards, as they found their way to Thunderbird 3, and its time-locked captives.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Clarendon, the Creighton-Ward hunting lodge-

Penelope had sat bolt upright in her big wooden chair, shocked by Jeff's words.

"Surely, you cannot be serious, Colonel?" objected the lovely aristocrat. "Zara is in no condition to travel, and wherever can you mean to go, that would be safer than Clarendon, with Parker and I?"

Jeff leant forward in his seat. He was careful not to disturb Bertie, who lay curled up and snoring in his lap.

"It's because of Zara that I need to leave, Penny," he told her. "We aren't hidden, here. Just further out of the way. There's been one attempt on her life, already, indicating that she's absolutely in danger. Shaw could send a security patrol to your door, or to the Island, and demand the girl's return. He's the Chancellor, Penny. I'd have no choice but to follow orders. The only real option I've got is to go someplace completely out of reach. Someplace I'm supposed to be, anyway."

Penelope drank some more mead, big blue eyes steady over the rim of her silvery cup. It gleamed in the firelight as she set it back down again.

"You mean Scotland?" Penny enquired. Warm light shone on her long, golden hair, warming the curve of her cheekbone and jaw. "The northern wastes are no place at all for an injured girl, Colonel Tracy. Unless, of course, Parker and I take you wherever it is that you're bidden to be. I should think that the Chancellor would have a few choice words for us, as well, and would rather not answer his knock."

Jeff frowned, murmuring, "Thank you", as Elspeth poured him another cup of warmed honey-wine.

"I don't want to involve you, Penny," he told her, accepting an offer of buttered tea cake.

"In that, I fear you are somewhat too late," said Lady Penelope. "Parker and I became complicit in this matter, as soon as we bore you away from the chancellery and aided in Zara's rescue. I have no desire to answer questions as to your possible whereabouts, Jeffery. Far better… and safer… to simply accompany you. No doubt, the dear child would feel better, having another woman along. More proper that way."

They stared at one another, as flames crackled, and logs split, sending showers of glittering sparks up the chimney and into the night. Then, Jeff said,

"I don't know what I'll find out there, Penelope. I've been summoned to a meeting by… other beings. Weaponised 'Specials'." Like me, he didn't add.

Penelope emitted the very faintest, most lady-like of snorts.

"Mere myth and superstition, Colonel. No one of sense and breeding truly believes those old tales. As well attempt to put me off by invoking the shade of Hamlet's father, or the two princes in the Tower!"

Jeff would have protested, but he was cut off when old Doctor Knox appeared, coming downstairs from the 'Queen's Chamber'. The colonel stood up, shifting Sherbert over to Lady Penelope.

"Doctor?" he asked, coming forward to shake the man's hand. "How is she?"

"Fighting her way through the drug, Colonel Tracy," said the physician, shaking his white-maned head. "She's been heavily over-medicated. Whoever dosed her so, hadn't the first notion what they were doing. She alternates between heavy sleep and periods of restless hallucination. I've injected a broad-spectrum re-uptake drug, but it may be sometime in working." Smiling ruefully, the old doctor said, "Reminds one of that old adage: whistling up a wind is certain to prove effective, provided one whistles long enough."

Penny placed a slim hand on the physician's dark sleeve.

"I thank you for all that you've done, Doctor Knox. The Children's Home shall certainly see the benefit of your kindness."

That home was a cause dear to the old man's heart, Penny knew. And, while the Creighton-Wards gave quite tidy sums on a yearly basis, that amount could certainly stand some adjusting.

"I believe I'll run upstairs to sit with the lass, till she's able to tell us what happened."

Doctor Knox patted her hand. He'd known Penny, and her brother Clarence, all of their lives.

"Call me at need, Lady Penelope. Colonel, a good evening to you, Sir… and many thanks for saving the Reliant, all those years gone. That was my son who called for help, when the captain was shot. You saved his life, Sir."

Jeff thought back; recalled a drifting, hulled ship and mutinous crew, dangerously close to crashing on Venus.

"That was a tough one, alright," he admitted. "Lee and I couldn't have pulled it off without help from the rest of the Space Corps… but your son made the first, most important difference. He kept them all alive and functioning till we could get there and bring those people out. He's the reason there was anyone left to save, Doctor."

Watching the old man straighten… shoulders back, head proudly erect… Penelope smiled. The colonel had that effect on people, and not only the ones that he'd saved.

"We're terribly proud of our Stuart," the doctor said gruffly, suddenly blinking a lot. "Captain of his own ship, he is."

"Congratulations, Doctor. I know what it means to have children you can be proud of."

They shook hands once again, having said all that needed saying. The old man waived his bill, content to leave with a bag of sandwiches, and a story to tell. Said Penny, touching Jeff's shoulder, once they were alone,

"You are very dear to them all, Colonel… and Shaw had best beware that he does not stir up a hurricane."