I'll be honest, here. After the last chapter, I was too nervous to check for reviews. No excuses. I'm an idiot. If you posted one, thank you; please forgive my lack of response. I'll get right on that, I promise.

27

Tracy Island, leaving Hangar 2-

Scott had time just to kiss Penny breathless, and give his younger brother a roughly affectionate shove. Then he and Kayo… weary or not, injured or not… recruited all the service bots that Grandma could spare, and went on down to the tunnels.

Between one thing and another, this was the first time he'd been alone with his sister since that cluster-f*ck on Ross Island. Maybe that was deliberate. He couldn't say. Scott had never been very good at examining his own motives.

Now, as Thunderbird 2 was hauled noisily clear of the main hangar, a huge aircraft-descent elevator took them down to the access and maintenance level. Just as if he'd been standing around in a regular, public lift, Scott followed protocol and stared straight ahead. All that was missing was a crappy jazz solo… and some good, solid answers.

They were surrounded by beeping and humming mechanicals, all armed with the tools of their various maintenance trades; welders, pincers, electrical gear… that sort of thing. Nevertheless, Kayo heard Scott when he asked, very quietly,

"Why?

He did not have to elaborate, or look at her, even. Just watch the lighted descent bar peel down through its vivid green layers. She shifted position beside him; the beautiful sister he'd thought he knew, and could trust.

A long moment passed. Then, she said,

"Someone… almost as close as a brother, who could reach my thoughts, sent his own pain and fear and dying into me. He was asking for help, Scott… but it was too much to take. I couldn't think. All I could do was react; get there, with anyone I could force to come with me."

Still staring forward, the tall, handsome pilot said,

"We would have gone willingly, Kay."

He sensed, rather than saw, her nod.

"I know that, Scott. I just… wasn't in any condition to ask. I'm not like you. All of my instincts are wrong."

Risking half a glance sideways, Scott saw that his sister was crying; stiff and silent, with tears slipping down from her big green eyes and trickling over her face.

They were a family of heroes. They'd adopted, and come to love, one of the enemy. Goddam stupid, in hindsight; terribly heartbreaking, now. But, he couldn't un-love his only sister. Couldn't just turn her out like an unwanted stray cat.

"Never again?" he asked, as the huge lift thumped down onto its dampers, and the doors began to grind open.

"Never again," she whispered. "I promise you, Scott. I'd kill myself, first."

He shook his head, making eye-contact for the first time since they'd boarded the lift.

"Not necessary, Kay. We're a family. Whatever happens to you, happens to us. No Tracy is ever alone. Not for longer than it takes to call up the rest of the pack, anyhow."

And then, because she was standing there, tragic and lost, just hugging herself, Scott reached over to clasp her slim, trembling shoulder. Any of his brothers, equally miserable, would have responded with a nod, then cuffed his hand away. Tanusha just melted right into him, for a brief, confusing moment. Not just embracing her oldest brother, but flooding him with love-gratitude-pain-apprehension-doubt-shame-lonlieness-regret-more love… and a promise that she'd never, ever hurt her family again, for any reason at all.

Very gently, Scott set Kayo aside, and gave her a warm, loving shake.

"Understood," he said. "Now, let's go round up our guests, before they…"

THUD!

Too late.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Mars, in the Freedom Colony's ravaged reactor room-

The noise and heat were incredible; unbearable, except for their straining survival suits. Worse yet was the damage done to station power and the reactor's containment tank. The chamber was knee-deep in heavy water, so hideously radioactive that the crew's warning badges gave up in disgust and turned black.

A number of giant holes had been blown in the cylindrical steel-alloy tank, revealing the core, with its five glowing rods of enriched plutonium.

"Well… sh*t," muttered Pete, his gruff voice mixed up with a great deal of hissing and popping static. "All right. We work the problem. Options, people. What're we looking at? What can we fix?"

Said Jeff, coming forward to stand alongside his old friend,

"It's a melt-down, Pete. Those rods are already sagging. John or Brains could explain the process better, but…"

"Or Walker," cut in the big blond Marine captain, rather unwisely. "Commander, Protocol dictates that…"

Rigby was taller. Somehow, McCord made that count not even one little bit.

"Go ahead, Captain," he said, in a very dangerous voice. "Ask me. Say: McCord, how many f*cks do you give about protocol, right now? Please ask."

Rigby was silent for several long, risky heartbeats, as steam, radioactive flood water and explosion debris swirled all around them. Then,

"Sir! That does not seem conductive to a long and successful career, Sir!" he barked, staring hard at the far middle distance.

Commander McCord glared at the younger man for a moment, then laughed at him, saying,

"Rigby, you're all right. Matter of fact, for a Marine, you're a Goddam genius." Jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the shattered containment tank and violently glowing fuel rods, he said, "Can we fix this sonuvabitch?"

Very cautiously, clearly regarding the red-haired base commander as more of a threat than that damaged reactor, Rigby turned just enough to see the rest of his crew.

"Walker," he called, to the man scanning their poisoned surroundings. "What's happened, and can we reverse it?"

Under that hard-shelled survival suit, James Walker was a tough, thin, rawhide strip of a man, who'd spent more time in space than down-planet-side. Now, he shook his head grimly.

"Sabotage, Sir…Commander… Colonel. My scans are picking up explosive accelerants, and bits of a timing device."

"Somebody did this on purpose?" their commander rasped, in a low, quiet voice. Rigby glanced back over at Walker, who nodded reluctantly. Then, the Marine said,

"Looks like it, Skipper, but…"

"Aw, crap…" somebody muttered, off to one side of the tank. "Think I found Hinton, Sir."

About twelve yards away, near a big, dark patch on the shuddering wall, another crewman said,

"Yeah. Me, too. One third of her, anyway. She shouldn't have been in here, though."

Pete nodded silently. He'd gone down there with Jeff and the emergency team, expecting to deal with an accident; not murder and sabotage. Shaking it off, McCord said,

"Right. Not a word. None of this leaves the room. Captain Rigby, if we can't re…"

That's when a third explosion went off, almost on top of them.