Just me again, with a little bit more. Sorry to pester. Things pop up, and I write them down. Thanks, Tikatu and Bow Echo, for the great suggestions! =)

26

Thunderbird 3, in the unsettled, furious air high over Tracy Island-

Alan's heart was firmly lodged up in his throat, making his speech more squeaky and warbling than ever. There was no way a complete n00b could stick the landing through Tracy Island's roundhouse and into his crazy-tight silo; not in this crap. No way in heck. So, he said,

"Okay, Pip, I'm gonna get right overhead, and fire a guide laser. Stay right on it, like… like playing Zombie Run…"

"…When you're crossing the flame gorge, only you have to nail that one tiny vent, to get to the ammo and medicines cache," she finished for him, over a high, keening wind.

"Dude! You play Zombie Run?!" Alan blurted excitedly, leaning close to his screen.

Piper grinned at him, all at once full of championship swagger.

"Check the online leader-board, A-T. I'm number three."

"Violet!" he gasped, with dawning comprehension. Overjoyed to discover a fellow gamer, Alan fist bumped the screen, meeting the image of her gloved and clenched hand. "I'm number two, Sky Guy."

"Seriously? That's so awesome!"

For a moment, everything else was lost in their mutual zeal for a really violent, incredibly wild and immersive VR game world. As their Birds hung side by side, sheltered by flickering shields, the purple-haired girl made a thoughtful noise.

"Hmm... What're the odds we'd have so much in common, and I'd end up being picked for the New Crew, huh?" she mused aloud. After a brief, wary pause, Alan shrugged.

"I dunno," he said, "Maybe WorldGov was trying to find the closest replacements they could. Y'know, personality-wise. But, um… who cares, right? Let's get home, first, and then have the world's longest marathon zombie-bash, right after."

Piper didn't just smile; she sparkled all over.

"You're on, Sky Guy. Talk me in, and we'll meet up, below."

Alan nodded, all business, once more. Together, they reoriented their rockets, so that Piper's orange Bird was below his, and hanging tail-downward. Lightning-shot clouds whipped past them above and beneath; cut by their shielding, but still plenty dangerous; fanged and clawed by hailstones and wind.

The astronaut triggered his silo hatch, and then hit the comm, saying,

"Grandma, it's me, Alan."

Her holo popped up, looking stressed, but absolutely in charge of all this.

"I know, Sprout. I been trackin' y'r progress. Listening in some, too. I c'n fire that guide laser you was talkin' about, send it on up ta 3.2."

"And I can reconfigure the Island's shielding to create a funnel effect," said John, as his holographic image appeared beside Grandma's. "It'll be tight, given the fuel situation, but I think we can get both Birds in, before Hurricane Kick-ass shows up."

"John Matthew!" their grandmother snapped, truly outraged. "You wasn't born nor raised in no gutter, Boy!"

"Sorry, Grandma," he replied, looking sheepish. "It just slipped out."

The old lady muttered something, shaking her head. Then,

"Anyways, you three get on home, now, so's the others c'n land. We got us a problem shapin' up, down below, and another on Mars."

Throughout all of this, Alan had kept glancing over at his half-and-half viewscreen, where Piper's image still shone. She'd been quiet the whole time, but didn't seem freaked-out by his weird-butt folks, or anything. So, he cleared his throat, schooled his voice to sound manly, and said,

"You heard that, Pip?"

"Which part?" she demanded, as a funnel of softly glowing and swirling blue force began forming around them, while a lance of green light speared the clouds.

"The part where my crazy dang family comes through, again, and you're totally safe. Just follow the laser, Pip. Once you're down, the hangar bots 'll take over, and I'll come in right after, okay?"

Looking straight at him with the most beautiful, dark-blue eyes in the world, Piper said,

"Promise you'll be safe, too? 'Cause if not, I'll wait out here, and make you go first. I can't… we just met, and I can't let anything bad happen."

Alan's heart slipped back into place, and exploded inside of him. Keeping his voice steady… his freckled face calm... with a Hercules effort, the boy said,

"Of course, I'll be safe! How else could I get the chance to play my favourite game with… with…"

The most wonderfun, amazing, incredibly awesome…

"Me," she supplied, scrunching her face up in that funny-cool smile of hers.

"You," he agreed. Then, Piper bit her lip and started on downward, turning her attention back to the business of getting to ground in one whole, un-crisped chunk.

'Please, please, please…' Alan prayed silently, because sometimes, the Universe listened.

XXXXXXXXXXX

The lumbering, half-finished prototype, a bit lower, and off to the west-

Meanwhile, as Thunderbird 3.2 was sliding through swirling dark clouds on a flimsy-pale energy ramp, Captain Taylor brought the prototype around for her final approach.

The test hangar was all the way over at the Island's other end, which meant that Lee, Brains, Max and their huddled refugees would have to cross over five miles of occupied tunnel. Well, h*ll… one thing at a time. That GDF invasion crew could take a number and join the "next available headache" line.

Just as Lee was starting his final turn, Jase called up to say,

"Sir, if we time this right, I can switch the force shield back over to blocking the wind for you, between rocket descents. It'll take 3.2 a few minutes to get hauled off to maintenance, so…"

Only, Taylor shook his head, no.

"Don't worry none about me, Jase. I been through planet-wide dust storms on Mars, an' meteor swarms up at th' Goddam moon. Flown through it all. Ain't much c'n shake me off'n a flight path, Son." His wasn't the only opinion, though.

"B- But you may feel perfectly f- free to, ah… to c- concern yourself over me, and Max," put in his spectacled copilot, looking just a mite green. The robot beside them beeped a few times, making the red-haired young astronaut smile, briefly.

"It's all in the timing," Jason explained. "Besides, I've got Eos, and auto-nav."

...And maybe Jeff's kids, too, had seen worse.

"Fly safe," Jase told them, before cutting comm. "I'll be in touch."

Lee didn't smoke in the cockpit (or after sex, either; he'd checked). But, he did chew spearmint gum. Kept the mind sharp and the nerves rock-steady.

"Doc," he said, to the wide-eyed feller beside him, "fish me out another stick o' that gum, wouldja? This un's gone stale." And then he swallowed the well-chewed, rubbery lump.

"Of c- course, Captain," said Brains, flipping open an armrest compartment to sort through its contents. "Ah-ha!" he exclaimed, holding up his flat little, silvery prize. "S- Success, Captain T- Taylor! Your oral f- fixation shall be, ah… be once m- more assuaged!"

Lee took his eyes off the storm and those virtual landing lights, long enough to shoot Brains a calm, level stare.

"Just f'r th' record," he drawled, "I ain't got no fixations. All my best vices is purely voluntary, and one-hunert percent in control. Care t' dispute th' matter, Doc?"

There was a smile in his voice, but only just. His pale blue eyes seemed amiable enough, but they meant what he'd said, and Brains got the picture without further text. Yet, the engineer was no coward, nor had he meant to insult a good friend. Hackenbacker smiled with his face and eyes, both.

"Only w- with coding or ch- chessmen, Captain," he quipped. "My, ah… my own p- preferred weapons, in any dispute."

Lee snorted, accepted the proffered gum, and returned to his usual solid good humor.

"Whaddya say we go home, Doc?" he suggested. "It's been a h*lluva day, and I'm ready f'r showers, bed, and some more o' Beth's cookin'."

"Th- That is the best notion I have h- heard all day, Captain Taylor," Brains agreed. "Although I sh- shall have to pass on the m- meal. Erm… flight sick."

Poor feller. Weak stomach. Well, it took all sorts, and Lee Cooper Taylor wasn't looking for trouble. Popping a fresh stick of gum in his mouth, he said,

"Hang on t' y'r ass, Doc. This is it."