Qrow: *Walking down the street of some village as it rains* Gods Dammit Oz, there's nothing out here-
Random person: What d'ya think you're doing you little Rat!
Kid: I'm s-Sorry!
Random person: Get outta my fuckin' trash! You're making a goddamn Mess!
Qrow: ... Fuck your bleeding heart you idiot.
Qrow: HEY! WHAT'S GOING ON OVER HERE!
A middle aged man held a small girl by her arm, obviously harder than was necessary.
Random person: This little brat was digging through my garbage and getting it all over the place! She Your's?
The girl was short, dirty, soaked to the bone and sharking like a leaf. She was scared.
Kid: H-Help!
Qrow: ...
The kid looked at him with big, frightened eyes
Qrow: Yeah, Yeah she's mine, and if you don't get your hands off of her you're gonna lose them.
Random person: *Throwing the girl to the ground* Take her, and put on a leash like the animal she-
Qrow: *Bringing out Harbinger* I'm a Hunstman, and that means I protect people. If you put a hand on anyone, let a long a kid again, I'm gonna need to do some hunting.
Qrow: Back. Off.
Random person: *Clearly Frightened* F-FUck of then, You've got your kid, go to whatever backwater town you flew in from, jackass!
The door to the house slams shut, leaving Qrow with the crying girl.
Qrow: Hey kid-
Kid: I- I don't have any lien- Please don't hurt me!
Qrow: What's your name?
Kid: ...
Qrow: Where's your parents?
Kid: ... My mom Left me.
Qrow: And dad?
Kid: I- I never had one.
Qrow: ... How does meal and a room sound? I've got a room in the inn. Hell, you can take the bed if you want. I've slept on enough couches not to care.
Kid: ... My name's Nora ...
Qrow: Nice name kid. It's strong. C'mon, let's get out of the rain.
MariaShades and I had WAY too much fun with this one.
Ao3 link
...
The roster of Cloudbase Captains has had two holes in it for years, waiting for just the right candidates to fill them.
...
Sometimes the stars aligned and the Colour Captains of Spectrum could all be found in the Officers Lounge at the same time. Grey and Ochre were in deep discussion about North America’s chances in the World Cup, Magenta was checking for light leaks before his shift in the operations center, and Blue was trouncing an increasingly annoyed Scarlet at chess. He was once again on medical stand down following an incident with the Mysterons and a nuclear reactor. Retrometabolism cured a lot of things, but the lingering effects of radiation made him itchy and therefore cranky."Come on Adam, be kind, I'm still recovering," Paul grumbled, brows knit and manfully resisting the urge to scratch at his neck. Fawn had threatened to tape oven mitts to his hands if he didn't leave the newly healed skin alone and he'd sooner go back to Koala and Mr Wilson's tender mercies before submitting to that indignity.
“I’m just as kind as you are on the sparring mat.” Adam moved his pawn forward, “I promote to a Queen.” He looked the board over and ignored Paul’s sound of dismay. “I believe that is check and mate.”
“Bloody colonial bastard…” Paul grumbled as he tried to find a way to save his King.
Adam chortled, “Point of order, I’ll admit to the bloody and the colonial part but my parents were married, to each other, at both my conception and birth.”
“Fine!” Paul knocked his King over. “You’re a bloody colonial arsehole.”
Adam sat back with a grin. “Fair enough."
Whatever Paul was going to say next was lost in the ‘whoosh’ of the lounge door opening. Colonel White stepped in. “Stay as you were, gentlemen,” was uttered before even the first twitch response to get to attention happened.
He moved to the central table and laid a pair of actual paper folders on it. He had all their attention with those, paper meant important. “I’m pleased to inform you that we may have finally found candidates to fill out the Cloudbase roster. I expect your feedback on them by 0900 tomorrow. Captains.” He gave them a small smile and left. A chorus of ‘Yes Sir’s’ followed along with the rattle of chairs being shoved as they raced to get to the folders as the door closed.
White permitted himself a chuckle, he was going to be very interested in the feedback.
Scarlet managed to lay claim to one of the folders, or ‘jackets’ in military slang, by dint of shoving Blue out of the way, scooping it up and doing a tuck and roll dive to escape the melee. Grey claimed the other, lunging over the still prostrated Blue and vaulting a couch to escape Magenta.
"Someone tell me we've got Cobalt, please, someone tell me if we've got him!" Ochre pleaded with his brothers in arms, looking between the two victorious officers clutching their prizes. He hadn't joined the mad scramble because he was on crutches, still recovering from the hairline fractures in his right leg that he'd picked up during the mission in London.
Grey had his folder open first, rapidly skimming the cover page. Since it was an Indigo-clearance file it didn't have a photo and some details were redacted, but it did have code names. "Yep, we have Cobalt," Brad grinned at the rest of them. "I think we'll be pretty unanimous in our feedback for this one."
“YES!” Rick punched the air. Then he grabbed his crutches and made his way over to Brad so he could look at the file as well.
Scarlet was going over the other folder. “I don’t remember anyone called ‘Xanthic’ before, but he’s got a WASP background.” He looked over at Brad and grinned “We’ve upped our swabbie count.”
“There was a Xanthic at White Owl when I was there with Rhapsody and Symphony.” Pat answered. “Good guy on the first look.”
“Go drink seawater.” Brad sent back at Scarlet without heat. Then his head snapped up. “‘Xanthic’? Someone picked xanthic for their colour?”
Paul read it again. “That’s what the file says.”
Brad shook his head. “We’ll be able to see him from orbit.” He passed some of the papers over to Rick. “Hey, Adam, what’s a Hammerhead in flying terms?”
"A Hammerhead?" Adam picked himself up off the floor and looked at Brad. "Why?"
"There's a note here from Major Bentley at Eagle base," Brad took out the relevant piece of paper and offered it to him, "for his final assessment in the Interceptor, Cobalt pulled a 'Hammerhead' manoeuvre, then turned it into a 'Crazy Ivan'."
"He WHAT!?"
Everyone was surprised when the normally calm and collected Adam snatched the paper off Brad, read it, shook his head, then read it again with wide eyes. "He did that when he was new to the Interceptor? Is he insane?!" Adam demanded of the room. "This could have gone so wrong in so many ways!"
"You still haven't explained what a Hammerhead is!" Magenta responded.
"Simple version, he went straight up, then he flipped the plane over and went straight down. That's the Hammerhead. He turned it into a Crazy Ivan by spinning around his own contrails on the way down." Adam used his hands to demonstrate the directions involved. "He did all of this under g-forces, mind you, and then he had to pull up before it could turn into a lithobraking manoeuvre."
"Would you ever do that?" Pat asked curiously, leaning over to take the page off him.
"Honest answer, no. Not in an Interceptor if I'd only had a few weeks in the cockpit. They're twitchy things as it is, and that’s without stunt flying." Adam looked down at the floor, a frown of concentration marking his brow. "Now that I think about it though…"
"No." Scarlet’s voice was firm and almost at its most commanding, his old role as a WAAF colonel showing. "If you say it's crazy, you are not allowed to try it yourself. I'm the nut job of the two of us, remember?"
The look Blue gave back was thoughtful. “I’m pretty sure I could pull it off. I know the Interceptor pretty well now, but I can’t wait to tell Symphony about this.”
The other men looked at him with expressions that went from disbelief to outright horror. “You want to throw that kind of a challenge down in front of the Angels?” Grey said.
Scarlet closed his eyes for a moment. “They’re more competitive than you are. They’d find a way to try and better that.”
Pat looked up from the paper. “Um… it says he broke Mach One and took it to fourteen thousand feet. That can’t be right, can it?”
“WHAT!?” Adam snatched the paper back, which was starting to show a bit of wear. “There is no possible . . .” He read the paper again then grabbed a tablet and started muttering to himself.
Brad passed part of the file over to Pat and headed over to look at the file Paul was reading. “Okay, other than a WASP with a twisted sense of humour, what else do we know about him?”
“Not sure. There’s a big block of redacted.” Paul handed over several sheets. “He knows how to swim though, it says he’s got an Olympic gold medal.”
“Useful in pulling your sorry butt out of the drink.” Brad teased then read what he could among the blacked out sections. “He’s got a commercial pilot’s license and he’s space rated. He’s quite the go getter.”
“No damn way.” Adam tossed the tablet back on the table. “Those can’t be right, otherwise Cobalt would have been pulling nine to eleven Gs the whole way down! For nearly ninety seconds!”
"Adam." Ochre cut across the Boston officer's disbelief with a calm, firm tone. "I know that you know who Cobalt really is and what sort of aircraft he used to fly. If your math says that's what he did, I'd believe it. If the chatter we overheard from that airshow was accurate, he's gone even faster."
That set a silence over the room. They weren’t supposed to know anyone's identity, but none of them were paid to keep their eyes shut and ears blocked. Curiosity was a common trait for all of them, coupled with the skills to satisfy said curiosity. Once the rumours had reached them, they'd quickly sorted out the facts from the fiction.
"Hang on…" Scarlet pointed to the papers that Grey held. "Same intake as Cobalt, Olympian, WASP, space rated and commercial pilot…you don't think…?"
“Think what?” Adam was still staring at the numbers.
Pat, faster on the uptake, lobbed one of small pillows that were there to help support Rick’s leg at Adam. “What colour is Thunderbird Four?”
Adam batted the cushion away, confusion on his face. “Yellow.”
“It makes sense to me, ” Brad told Paul. Then he turned to Adam. “It’s safety yellow, sometimes called ‘diver’ yellow because above a certain depth it stands out in the ocean. Xanthic is about three shades brighter.”
The penny dropped for the two other men. “Son of a bitch,” Rick said with reverence. “Scott and Gordon Tracy.”
“Thunderbirds One and Four,” Paul corrected.
“But we don’t know that,” Pat reminded the room, “and we’re not going to know that until if and when we earn their trust and they tell us that or anything else about themselves.”
The weight he put on ‘else’ was a sobering reminder of the other things they knew about the Tracy family.
“Alright then, so as far as we’re concerned, these are two new guys we have to judge and assess if they’re going to be a good fit with the team.” Scarlet took the lead to bring everyone back on track. “We need to forget their names, not get star-struck and focus on if they’ll be able to work with us, if we can work with them, and if we can trust them with our secrets and our lives.”
“Well, we’ve been lobbying for Cobalt, so we’re all in agreement there.” Brad pointed out.
“Damn straight!” Rick sat and elevated his leg. “I’d be behind him coming on board no matter what his last name was. He came after me with a rope, some tools, and a pen light.”
“We would have gotten you out,” Paul said in a gentle tone. There were nods of agreement all around.
Rick sighed. “I know that, I never doubted that, but I was damn glad to see a friendly face when I was trapped in water up to my waist.”
“So we agree on Cobalt. He’s brave, smart, thinks on his feet, and might be a better pilot than Blue,” Grey stated.
“HEY!”
Paul hid his grin. “Well, you're the one saying he did the impossible with an Interceptor.”
Adam sat down muttering rude things under his breath.
“So, we need to figure out, going just from what’s in the jacket, if Xanthic is going to be a good fit or not.” Paul set the folder down on the table. “The Old Man thinks so, or he wouldn’t have brought him up, so let’s go over what we have.”
“Well, going off his licences he’s driven, capable, and he’s a fish who can fly, so he’s adaptable,” Brad ticked the points off on his fingers. “I know we’re not supposed to count his previous job, but knowing what it was, he’s got to have resilience in spades and he’d know about keeping secrets.”
“Agreed,” Rick nodded. “And he’s gotta have a sense of humour, what with ‘Xanthic’ as his code colour.” He looked at the others “Heaven knows we need a bit more of that around here.”
“Hey, look at this commendation from Dolphin,” Adam had set aside his sulk for the moment and picked through Xanthic’s file. “Remember that tsunami that hit the area around the base? Says he was caught up in that in one of those little two-man submarines and he saved himself and a fellow cadet, Amber.”
Brad snagged the relevant document, read it over and whistled. “That’s some high praise,” he said, passing it over to Rick when he reached out for it. “He’ll be damn good to have around in a pinch.”
“Which is every other day for us, it seems,” Paul remarked, quirking a half smile as he pulled out a few more papers and scrutinised them. “Extensive medical records, but mostly blacked out, not unexpected but not a concern if he survived Koala.”
“Speaking of which,” Pat held up a sheet, “Wilson recommended him.”
The silence that filled the lounge was deep enough to hear breathing over the heartbeat of the base.
“Not funny Patrick!” Ochre snapped.
Magenta raised both eyebrows, cleared his throat, and started to read aloud:
Cadet Xanthic, while seemingly irreverent, is perhaps the most driven recruit I have had come through since the original cohort. He can and will find a way to accomplish whatever task or goal that is set in front of him. He will be an asset to Spectrum and I know he will go far, most likely to Cloudbase, if he sets his mind to it.
The ensuing silence was profound. No one had ever gotten such a compliment from Wilson before.
"Well. That settles that then," Paul declared. "We'd be idiots to ignore that glowing commendation."
"Speaking of ignore, should we take these to the Angels?" Pat waved a hand at the files.
"Will we regret it if we don't?" Rick asked back with a grin, knowing what the answer would be.
"In a word: yes." Brad started reassembling the now somewhat well handled files. "The real question is who's going to go? A delegation or all of us?"
"Safety in numbers," was Patrick's response to that, "let's all go."
A round of nods and 'S.I.G.'s, and the colourful pack of captains trooped through the base and down to the Amber Room where, decided by group vote and a helpful shove between the shoulder blades, Paul was nominated to request entry to the Angels' ready room.
Flicking an amused look at his brothers in arms, Paul tapped the intercom beside the door. "Captain Scarlet here, requesting permission for the five of us to come in?"
The lack of an answer had them fidgeting for a moment before the door slid open to reveal the petite form of Destiny Angel. She stared up at Scarlet and managed to make it seem like she was looking down her nose at him. “Quelle?”
“The Colonel gave us some new possible candidates for Cloudbase, and we wanted your opinions on them.” Paul kept his tone light, Juliette in a mood could be a dangerous thing and he wasn’t sure just what her mood was.
Her eyes narrowed for a moment. “Oui.” She turned and left the door open. There were some nervous glances between the captains. But they entered, they had no other choice if they wanted to stay on the ladies' good side. Symphony and Harmony were in the ready seats, Melody was standing in the middle of the Amber room with a frown that twisted her whole face. Since Rhapsody wasn’t there, they knew who was sitting in Angel One.
Melody’s frown changed to something less fearsome as she helped Rick sit. The others took ‘their’ seats around the room and left the couch to the ladies. That was only encroached upon with permission.
"The Colonel has selected Captain Cobalt and Captain Xanthic for the roster," Scarlet began, handing the files over to Destiny. "They're from the most recent intake."
"Oh?" Destiny’s expression softened slightly as she took the files, sat down, and opened one.
All the captains immediately knew when she had found Cobalt's by the hiss of indrawn breath and the look she directed at Blue. "C'est vrai?" she demanded of him.
"Yup," Adam nodded. "We got that straight from the Colonel."
"Alors!" she exclaimed with some heat, drawing Melody over.
"What is…" she trailed off as she read the page over Destiny’s shoulder. "Oh my… okay, I know what I'm going to be trying out in the sims." She gave the captains a cheeky grin "If y'all don't want him, we'll take him. He can be the first male Angel."
"What did he do?" Symphony asked from her injection seat, exchanging wide-eyed looks with Harmony.
"See for yourself." Melody brought the paper over to her sister pilots.
While she did so, Destiny turned a commanding look upon the men. "When Cobalt arrives, you will bring him to us, d'accord?"
There was only one acceptable response to that.
"Of course, Destiny." Scarlet agreed as the designated spokesman.
“To heck with that Destiny, we need to go to the Colonel and get him for ourselves. ‘Concord Angel’ has a nice ring to it.” Symphony called down.
“I think ‘Lyric’ might be a better fit,” Harmony said.
“Okay, who are we talking about?” Rhapsody's voice floated down.
“Cobalt. That guy we met at White Owl,” Symphony answered.
“The cute one with the dimples?”“Yup!” Was the cheerful answer.
There were approving noises from the other Angels.
That was when Brad chose to step in. Paul was completely unruffled by Dianne’s comments, 'I know that shechose me' was how he’d described it once, but Adam wasn't hiding his agitation nearly as well as he thought he was. "Hey now, we called dibs on him first," was what he chose to interject with. "What do you think of Xanthic?"
“Nope! I saw him first at White Owl. He’s ours,” Rhapsody teased. “Xanthic is the one I couldn’t pickpocket. Not to mention I got nothing out of him in the way of intel.
Destiny raised her eyebrows. “Xanthic is space rated.”
“So’s Cobalt,” Melody added.
“Capitaine Xanthic is also deep water certified.” Destiny looked at Brad.
“He’s a WASP,” Brad stated as if that was saying water was wet
Before things could get more off track, Paul stood up. “What do you ladies think of them? We’re going to tell the Colonel yes, but we would really like your opinions.”
“When does the Colonel want an answer by?” Was Harmony’s query.
“0900 tomorrow,” Paul told them.
“Then give us a couple of hours to go over these and we’ll let you know,” Symphony said with a grin. “But I’m pretty sure that Lyric is going to be ours.”
The captains knew a dismissal when they heard one. Pat and Brad went to help Rick up and Paul kept a hand on Adam’s arm to remind him that sometimes silence is golden. They stayed quiet until they got back to the lounge.
Rick dropped into a chair with a wince. “They can’t be serious about going after Cobalt, can they?”
"They are short handed, the Colonel's has had a devil of a time finding pilots that are their equal," Paul said as he pulled over a second chair and helped Rick get his injured leg onto it. "Finding new captains is a hell of a lot easier than it is to find new Angels."
"But remember, the Colonel offered Cobalt to us first, he wants him as a captain, and that's what Cobalt applied to be, a captain," Pat added as he brought Rick a glass of water. "I'm pretty sure Major Bentley or someone at Koala or recruitment would have offered him a chance at being an Angel, but he didn't take it."
"And that's something that can't be ignored: what Cobalt wants." Rick nodded his thanks to Pat as he accepted the glass. "There's something else that can't be ignored," he continued, taking the proverbial bull by the horns. "A new addition to the team has to be agreed on by all of us. Adam, you say no and it'll be no."
Adam jerked. “Why would I say no? He’s practically tailor made for Cloudbase.”
Brad swung a chair around to straddle it, arms crossed on the back. “Because your eyes turned green when Karen called him Concord and when she agreed he was the ‘cute one with the dimples’.”
Adam turned the same colour as Paul’s tunic. “Thank you so much!” He turned to Paul. “Dianne called him cute as well.”
Paul just raised an eyebrow and went to get coffee. “They’re the Angels of Spectrum, they aren’t dead. If they think he’s cute, then he’s cute.” Paul was utterly confident in his relationship with Dianne. But it would seem that Adam wasn’t as sure about Karen. Which was complete nonsense, Karen adored Adam.
Pat laughed, “We only have as much right as they give us.” His eyes sparkled. “I just think you’re jealous that he might be a better pilot than you are. The Angels were certainly impressed.”
There was a soft chime and Rick pulled out a small bottle, then looked at his empty glass. “Any chance of some of that coffee? I hate dry swallowing these things.”
Paul nodded and started making a cup for Rick.
“So that’s a yes on Cobalt from us.” Brad sent Adam a look. Adam flushed again but nodded. “I say yes on Xanthic. Even if we hadn’t figured out who he was, I would say yes. It would be nice to have someone with more deep water experience.”
“Wilson recommended him. That’s an automatic yes in my book,” Pat stated.
“Thanks,” Rick took the cup from Paul. “Yeah, that’s pretty much the clincher for me as well.”
Brad brough his gaze to bear on Paul and Adam.
"A yes from me, we'd be idiots to pass up Xanthic," Paul stated as he found a place to sit down. Now that he wasn't distracted he started to reach for the itchy spot on his neck, but Adam reached out and pushed his arm back down.
"And it's a yes from me," Adam declared. "Don't worry, I'll be a grown up about it all."
Another chime sounded and Pat swore softly. “I’ve got to get to my duty station. I’ll write mine up there.” He headed out the door.
Brad stood up. “Come on Rick, let’s get you back to your quarters before you start drooling in your sleep again.”
“I don’t drool in my sleep!” Rick protested as Brad helped him up.
“Yes, you do.” Brad, Paul, and Adam all shot back.
“Bastards, the lot of you.”
“Be nice Ochre and I won’t post the pictures on the Cloudbase intranet,” Grey cautioned.
Rick turned wide eyes at the oldest captain. “You didn’t!”
“I did. I know good blackmail when I see it.” Brad gave a rare grin as he ushered Rick along.
“Aww… come on Grey -” The door cut off the rest of Ochre’s protests. Leaving Paul alone with Adam.
There was silence for a time in the wake of the other three’s departure, Paul sitting back with his cup (held in both hands to keep himself from scratching) and watching Adam while he reclaimed his tablet and busied himself with something inconsequential at the other table, his back to his friend.
“...I can feel your eyes on me, stop it.” Adam didn’t look up from the document he was pecking at.
“Rick was right to ask the question, Adam, even though it made you uncomfortable.” Paul’s voice was soft and serious. “If Cobalt is going to be a problem, he’s not stepping foot on this base, nor will Xanthic. What we have with our team dynamic is good, and I don’t want to risk damaging it, no matter how well commended or recommended someone is.”
“It’s…” Adam made a frustrated noise, abandoned his tablet and came back to sit next to Paul, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s so stupid. I shouldn’t feel this… this insecure and threatened by him, but I am.”
“He’s a specialist in your speciality and he’s got quite a reputation that precedes him, I’m not surprised,” was Paul’s response. While he was mostly indifferent towards magazines, society pieces, celebrity gossip and what not, he had seen enough cover photos and articles to know that the eldest Tracy was extremely good looking when he wanted to be, that he was unattached, had impeccable manners towards women, and was considered a very good catch. He also knew that the Angels were all highly competent and extremely good looking women, and would all be a highly attractive prospect to someone both unattached and of the personality type that he suspected that Cobalt had from the various things he’d read and seen of the eldest Tracy.
He also knew that Adam had had some unfortunate experiences in his romantic history, in part due to his last name and the sizeable bank account attached to it, and that’s what prompted him to poke Adam in the side and inform him “Stop that. Karen adores you and she was teasing us along with the other Angels.”
Adam just shot him a look and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “I know that, but there’s this little voice in the back of my head…”
“Ignore it. It’s little, evil, and not worth your time.” Paul laid a hand on the shoulder closest to him. “But if it’s this big of an issue, then we say no.” ‘Though I hope we won’t. I don’t want to explain why to the Old Man.’
Adam took a deep breath. “I’m being stupid. She loves me, I love her, and she only met him for a moment. Juliette is more likely to go after him than Karen is.”
Paul barked out a laugh. “If Juliette wants him, he’s not going to know what hit him. Trust me on this one.”
Adam sent a weak grin over his shoulder. “About that, I do. Maybe some food will help. I’m never at my best with low blood sugar.”
“Food would be a very good idea.” Paul rubbed his hand over his neck. “Maybe if I get enough this blasted itching will go away.”
“Here’s hoping.” Adam got up, looking somewhat more reassured. “Come on, Green was saying it’s curry and chilli on the menu tonight, maybe they’ve finally got something that’s spicy enough for Magnolia and Karen.”
“Let’s find out.”
0o0o0
The next day, Colonel White sat down at his desk with a cup of tea in one hand and a tablet with the feedback from the Captains and the Angels in the other.
White felt well pleased as he opened the first report. Whilst technically only the captains should have had a say in the makeup of their team, he had known that his officers would seek out the Angels’ opinions and he was well pleased by this - the captains and Angels worked closely together, what affected one would also affect the other, and it was a sign of how much his officers valued and respected their colleagues.
As he sipped his tea and clicked through the recommendations, he had to smile. Scarlet had evidently been feeling cheeky last night, and given the condition he’d been in after his most recent mission, White decided to let Scarlet’s very succinct responses of ‘Cobalt- Yes. Xanthic - Yes.’ slide this time. Grey’s was much more detailed, including possible things that the two incoming captains could teach the rest of them, and Ochre’s ran in a similar vein.
Charles made a few notes about that, the more well-rounded his officers, the better.
Magenta and Blue’s were similarly positive, but it was the Angels’ that had him chuckling. But for the variations of personal turn of phrase, all five of them had turned in recommendations that summed up to ‘Yes to Xanthic, but if the captains don’t want Cobalt, we’ll have him’. That they even had suggestions for code names didn’t surprise him.
White set down the tablet, sipped his tea and pondered. He knew that the Angels were under a hard roster that was only made possible by the Room of Sleep, and he wasn’t pleased by it. Finding the five of them had been difficult enough, assembling a ‘B’ team to provide cover for injuries, training and vacations was proving harder than he’d anticipated with the high standards required for not just handling the Interceptor, but being able to effectively fly it in combat, and on top of that the other skills required to be an Angel. In the light of Cobalt’s piloting experience and abilities, that they’d pounced on the idea of having Cobalt for their team was quite natural, and it had been offered to him at both Koala and Eagle, however Cobalt had politely but firmly declined it.
“If the latest intake of potential Angels bears fruit, I’ll hopefully have at least two to bring up here on rotation and give the Angels some proper downtime, as opposed to the 72 hour breaks they’re able to get here and there,” White mused, knowing that bringing in the right people, not just anyone, was just as important for the Angels as it was for the Captains. There were very good reasons why the four designated backup officers were kept as a team at Spectrum London and not split up and brought up piecemeal - when people had a good dynamic, it was best to not play around with it.
White sighed, if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride, to quote his mother. He turned back to his workstation and sent the orders to Spectrum London to transfer Cobalt up to Cloudbase. Xanthic’s transfer would have to wait until he came back from his mission in Futura City. But once he was, for the first time in years, Cloudbase would have her full complement of Captains.
Gordon gently drew his fingers through Penelope’s hair. He could never get enough of playing with it, it was like silk.
He brushed his lips against her head in the lightest of kisses and settled back down next to her in the warm confines of the bower, staring at his sleeping wife and mate in wonderment.
“Mom, I wish you could have met her,” he sent the thought out to his mother’s spirit, knowing with absolute certainty that Mom would have loved her. “How’d I ever get lucky enough for her to notice me?”
It wasn’t easy sometimes, being a Tracy. Between the sheer amount of time they spent on work or missions, ‘iR groupies’, gold-diggers of every stripe and being not human, friendships were hard enough, let alone any sort of love life. They’d all resigned themselves to not having a significant other unless something extraordinary happened.
And, in his case, it had.
The first time Penny had looked at him and he’d realised that look was for him and not one of his older brothers… he’d convinced himself that he’d been seeing things. Then it’d happened again and he couldn’t ignore it.
It’d been baby steps, carefully sounding each other out until at last they couldn’t deny that maybe they did indeed have feelings for each other that weren’t platonic. Then he’d dared to show her his true self and she hadn’t just accepted it, she’d embraced it, scales and all.
Her building a saltwater pool for him hadn’t been the only thing she’d done to show him that.
Mers as a rule were very tactile and had sensitive hands and torsos - it was incredibly useful when hunting out shellfish, crustaceans, eels and rays buried in the sand, identifying edible seaweed and other things and detecting movements in the water that might be prey or predator. A fair bit carried over when he was human so he had some very strong preferences when it came to fabrics and textures.
Without him saying a single word about it, she’d noticed this - how he couldn’t keep his hands off her when it came to certain weights and weaves of cotton, linen, satin and silk, but he couldn’t stand her suede jacket or shearling coat. Or how he loved to play with her hair, but cringed away from alpaca and angora wool. Finely woven merino met with his whole-hearted approval, but not faux leather. So she’d adapted, only wearing some things if she knew he’d be absent and other things when he was present. She didn’t simply tolerate his instincts as a mer, but researched so that she could understand him better, encouraged him to seek out why he wanted to do certain things and participated- how she’d told him to build the bower was proof of that.
He reciprocated as best as he could, learning about her world in the English gentry and charitable causes because the last thing he ever wanted to do was embarrass her. Tease, yes, but not embarrass. She’d guided him along with grace and patience, helping him polish his Kansas farm boy until they could work together as a matched set and he could play the charming American to her genteel aristocrat. No charity gala was safe when the two of them turned up, arm in arm. Nor was any secret- he could act the distraction with the best of them while she picked someone’s pocket of stolen data chips.
Looks notes over
Sailor 1 - check
Legends 12- check
Legends 13 - in process
Dragons 12 - in process
Truth 2 - in process
Well, this year is looking like it's off to a running start! Please remember this list when you get to the end of this chapter. I make NO apologies for it.
Also, this one is BIG - 4766.
Y'all are warned.
AO3 link is here
Chapter 12
Tribulations
The Hero’s path is never without trials and tribulations.
...
Gordon thought he’d seen locked down before, but compared to Alan right now, even the most hard-bitten member of WASP Strike was an open book. He had them up and ready to go in record time. Not that they needed much encouragement. The air was tinted shades of blue, green, and gray, with darkened forms just on the other side of being seen that could be anything your imagination could come up with. There was also a heaviness to the air, requiring more of an effort to breathe. The smell had changed as well; gone was the hot, sour, and putrid stench. In its place was something cold, earthy, and decayed.
“Right.” Alan hefted his axe. It hadn’t left his hand since he’d gotten up. “We stay together, no more a weapon’s length away. Don’t eat anything that we didn’t bring with us. The only safe thing here is the water and only if it’s free and fast-moving.” He took a deep breath. “Don’t trust anything that talks to you, not even a Little. You can’t trust anything here. Not even your own senses.” He turned to Kayo.” Direction?”
“What’s a Little?” She asked as she uncovered the tracker. The light was the beat of a racing heart.
Alan blinked. “A Little.” He gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I can’t explain it better than that. Just don’t trust anything that talks to you here.” He looked them over. “I’ll take drag with Gordon. Virgil, you’re with Kayo, Scott, and John, take the middle.”
That was a shift in the line, but this was very much Alan’s area of expertise. There were nods and they started walking.
“Why move Virg to the front?” Gordon asked quietly, this place seemed made for whispers.
Alan broke off his watching to look at Gordon. “He’s got the longest weapon. When the ground turns soft, we can use it to pull them free.”
“When? Shouldn’t you tell them that?”
Alan shook his head. “They need to be watching for other things. We can deal with soggy ground.”
“Watching for what things? You didn’t exactly explain about this world.” Gordon kept his tone even. This place had Al spooked but good. Something Gordon would ask about later, but right now they needed intel.
“Warbeaks, Blankets, Drops, and Strangle Vines from above. At ground level, Rock snakes, which are easy to see. Slugs, and again, we just get out of the way of them.” He swiped at his face with his sleeve, the air was wet enough to stick. “Biters, but unless it’s a swarm, they aren’t an issue. Fuglies, Stickmen, Thorn Throwers, and Dust Flowers. Below ground, Veg Traps and Mouth Pits. We also need to watch for Longhorns, Woolyboolies, and Buzzbombes.”
The mix of actual names and Alanese made Gordon blink. “You said the Forest of Stone was its ‘official’ name. What did you mean by that?”
“Just what I said. Others have been here before us, usually just long enough to get the Seal or close a rift.” Alan was back to scanning the middle distance. “I’ve just been here the longest. Which means if I manage to survive and get back to the Observatory, the Archivist, the Keeper of the Annals, and the Loremaster are going to lock me in a room and pick my brain until I’m old and wrinkled.”
“They’ll have to go through us first.” Scott’s voice was a low growl.
Gordon nodded. If the Observatory thought they were going to keep Alan for a moment longer than Virgil thought necessary, they would need to think some more.
“I’m guessing a warbeak is some kind of avian,” John said. “Strangle vines also sound pretty clear-cut. But Drops and Blankets? What do we need to watch out for with them?”
“Drops are just that - drops. They range in size between a volleyball and MAX. They’re mostly clear; you won’t see them until they move. They drop from the middle and understory to envelop their prey, then bounce back up to whatever they’re attached to, like a bungee jump.” Alan gave himself a shake. “I’m not sure what's in their bodies, but it’s some kind of acid and it burns like blazes.”
“And Blankets?” Virgil asked. They were close enough together to hear the conversation as they skirted their way through the saplings of the giants that towered above them.
“I think they’re related to Mirror Beasts. Same sort of camouflage, but instead of lying on the ground, they’re up in the trees and fall on top of you. The outcome is the same either way - they try to eat you and you try to kill them before they can.” Alan replied in the same tone of saying ‘the sky is blue’ and that was not comforting at all.
Alan’s wariness had set them all on edge. The fact this was the first ‘land’ to have sounds other than the wind through leaves didn’t help either. Thin, high-pitched cries sounded through the upper canopy as barely seen forms moved above them. Rough, huffing sounds from the areas they walked through. Alan had cautioned against running, which would attract attention. There was also a soft discordant chiming that seemed to underlay all the other sounds and made the hair on the back of their necks stand up as they moved through the undergrowth.
Virgil had been watching where he had been walking, he really had, but he’d been more intent on shoving what looked like a giant fiddlehead fern out of the way with his bec de corbin, instead of where he put his feet. Which proved to be a mistake when the ground opened up under one foot and he slipped down into - well - a hole.
“Virgil!”
He didn’t have time to do anything but twist his weapon to run perpendicular to the opening and hope it didn’t open any wider than it was. He held his breath as the curved spike that was the ‘bec’ of a bec de corbin pulled through the ground before it caught on something. He kept a tight grip on the shaft and prayed that it was strong enough to hold.
“Stay back! I need to figure out where we can walk.” Alan’s voice was sharp.
Virgil agreed with that plan as he fought to get his breath back. He didn’t want any of the others down here with him. He was pretty sure that dirt shouldn’t be wet and slightly slimy, nor as he glanced down, should the walls narrow and get even damper.
“Virgil?” Alan’s face peered over the edge of the hole.
He looked up with a weak grin. “Still here.”
“Good. Don’t touch the walls, it’s confused for the moment. Let me know if anything changes.” Alan disappeared.
“Will do.” Virgil kept a watch on the wall in front of him. Was it pulsing or was it a trick of the light on an over-stressed brain? And what did Alan mean by ‘confused’? Virgil flexed his arms, he might be able to pull himself out, if there was -
“What do you mean no one has any rope? John, that’s like adventuring 101, torches, iron rations, and fifty feet of rope!”
Okay, there went that idea, even if it was funny. Or rather, it would be funny once they were back on the other side of the Nexus. Um… was that a ripple? Dirt wasn’t supposed to ripple. “Alan?” Okay, that was more than a trick of the light - the ‘dirt’ was extruding spikes, like the skin of a jackfruit. “Alan!”
“Virg?” Alan once again peered over the edge.
He swallowed, “The walls are moving.” The field of small spikes smoothed over with another ripple.
“DUST!” Alan vanished. “We have to get him out, now.”
Virgil watched as the wall rippled again and the spikes reformed: fewer, slender, and much longer. A slim tendril uncurled and stretched across the space toward his face. He jerked back only to hear a hiss of metal meeting acid behind him. “Alan! It’s touching me!”
He couldn’t wait any longer, he was getting out of this, now. Virgil switched his grip and pulled upwards like he was doing a pull-up. More tendrils shot out from the walls, tips glistening. Virgil was too busy to watch but he could hear the sounds of the touches. He managed to get halfway up on the haft when a hand appeared in his line of sight.
John was leaning out over the pit, Scott’s grey baldric over John’s chest, making an ‘X’ with the orange one. Scott and Gordon were pulling on those, with Kayo holding onto Scott’s belt and Alan with his good arm through Gordon’s baldric to keep the others steady.
“As soon as you get a foot up, grab my hand, and we’ll do the rest.” John’s voice was rock solid and calm, something his face was not, if the tightness around his eyes and the shadows in them were any sign.
Virgil nodded and concentrated on getting up on the haft, only to feel something tug on a calf and a much louder hissing. “Now!” He slapped his hand around John’s forearm and pushed off as much as he could with one knee to help. John’s other hand curled around Virgil’s a split second before Scott and Gordon jerked back with all their strength.
They all ended up in a tangle of armor and bodies, Virgil was just glad to be out of that pit. He jumped as he was suddenly awash in golden fire. “Alan?”
The air grew sharp and salty as the fire chased its way down Virgil’s body, leaving a fine white dust behind. “I’m neutralizing the acid,” Alan said, his voice rough. The fire went out and Alan sprawled out on the ground.
“What the - effing ‘ell, was that?” Gordon demanded.
Alan dropped his arm over his eyes. “Mouth pit. Just what it sounds like. It eats things that fall in.” The arm pulled away for a moment, “we’ll need to double-check Virg’s armor for damage.”
“Alan?” Kayo was bending over him.
Alan sighed, “Just tired. I hate this place so very much.” He held his arm out in a wordless plea for help. Which Kayo gave him and pulled him to his feet.
The tabard was burned in places and the armor underneath it was marked. One pauldron and a greave were damaged to the point of being questionable. But it was the helmet that had taken the brunt of it. A huge weal curled around it from almost the eye slit to the back, nearly cutting it in half. Virgil shivered at the thought of what that could have done to his coif, and under that, his skull. Alan had made thoughtful noises at the armor pieces. “I think I can fix these when we camp.” He turned to Gordon, “You said you have wire?” He got a nod. “Great! That will save me from trying to keep the lattice straight and remembering which alloy has what neutrons.”
The line was shuffled to put Virgil in the more protected middle with Scott, while John moved up with Kayo. The pulse of the tracker was faster now and that upped their speed accordingly. There was a chance that Grandma was here. While dangerous, it was hopeful.
“Hsst!” Alan waved his arm. “Get back! Stand against a tree and keep still!” He tucked his back up against the base of the behemoth next to him. No one questioned it, Alan was the expert here, so they all did the same.
Gordon watched Alan and not the forest surrounding them. Alan’s eyes were closed and his head tilted slightly as he listened for - something. “Al?”
“Shhh. Listen.”
Gordon set to listening. He felt it before he heard it, a hard rhythmic thump that traveled up his bones. Close on the heels of that was the sound, a thud, growing louder as it got closer, a rustling as the leaves shivered in time to the feeling. The chiming grew even more discordant as the thumps got closer together. Alan’s eyes snapped open and he looked back the way they had come. With creaks and thwacks, five things walked out of the trees. They were bipedal and tall, nearly half the height of the trees. For that matter, they could have been the trees, because that’s what they looked like. Tall, slender trees walking about the forest.
They strode by where they were hiding without even giving a glance downwards. A fact that Gordon was extremely grateful for. He was pretty sure the only person that stood any kind of chance against walking trees was Alan, and if he was hiding - yeah, the rest of them would be smears on the forest floor. But they were literally beneath the - whatevers - notice and they moved on past them and vanished into the shadows and mist.
Alan leaned back against the wood and let out a huge explosion of breath.
“Al, what are those?” Gordon was extremely pleased that his voice didn’t squeak.
“Stickmen. If you ever run into them, just hide as best as you can. They don’t tend to notice anything smaller than a Fugly.”
That got some looks. “You mentioned that before, what is it?” John queried.
“It’s trouble, and if we’re lucky we won’t run into one.” Alan pushed off the tree and looked them over, his eyes narrow. “Where’s Kayo?”
Terrifying words in this place of horrors. They spread out and started looking for her. She’d been at the front with John, they had moved Virgil to the middle because of his armor, so John had moved up. The search pattern was tight and they were cautious, but they still nearly missed her. The tree she’d taken cover at was covered with vines growing up and down the trunk of the tree. Which was how they hadn’t seen her, the vines had engulfed her. John was the one to find one of her knives on the ground giving away her location, and a pair of frightened eyes barely seen through the leaves.
“Here!” John attacked the ones at ground level with his sword.
“Strangle vines! Scott, catch!” Alan tossed his axe to the oldest. “The ones above her head!”
Scott dropped his mace, caught the axe in one smooth motion, spun, and slammed it into the mass of vines. Virgil used his polearm to pull chunks of cut vine out of the way as they came free.
Small shoots came out of the main parts of the vine, reaching toward the men wreaking such havoc upon it. They were met with human steel. A hand wrapped around the head of Virgil’s weapon and he pulled back with all his strength to help get Kayo free. The vine wasn’t going to give its prize without a fight. John and Scott attacked the runners keeping Kayo trapped with brutal efficiency. Her other hand came free and grabbed onto the shaft of the polearm. Virgil jerked back a second time and with a splintering crack, she tumbled out of the hollow and lay on the ground, gulping down air.
“We need to make sure there are no suckers on her!” Alan ordered. Gordon thumped down on his knees and began pulling bits of vine off her with the knife that had let them find her. Alan joined him, while the others, given something they could actually fight, eradicated as much of the vine as they could.
“Tan?” Gordon was ruthless in searching out any bits of brown or gray that were still attached to Kayo.
“C-couldn’t breathe.” She kept pulling in air.
Alan sent little ripples of gold over her, burning anything that escaped Gordon’s attention. “They move faster than you think. Totally opportunistic and will eat anything that comes into range.”
“So ‘nuke it from orbit’ is the best option?” Gordon’s tone was only half joking.
“I’d nuke this whole place from orbit if I could.” Alan’s voice was hard. “We need to get moving. Critters will have heard the noise and others follow Stickmen to catch what they stir up.”
“Why can’t we run into something nice for a change, like a unicorn?” Gordon’s tone was plaintive.
“Unicorns aren’t nice, and they aren’t good either.” Alan’s lip curled. “They are mean, evil-tempered assholes that bite, kick, and stab. The only nice thing about unicorns is their taste.”
Scott opened his mouth, then closed it as he leaned in to help Kayo up. “I don’t even want to know. Is this place always like this?”
Alan got up, gave himself a shake to resettle his armor, and grimaced. “Hardly, it’s usually much worse.”
This time the order of travel was shuffled once again, Alan in the front with Gordon, Kayo, and Virgil in the middle, with John and Scott guarding the rear. They were actually making some good time, or at least everyone but Alan thought they were making good time, but Alan wasn’t so sure. One of the many reasons he hated the Forest so much was that night had a way of sneaking up on you. He was trying to gauge the light, when a great bellow that rang through the forest, sending things squeaking and hissing higher into the canopy, followed the sensation of repeated impacts traveling through the ground. It felt like a herd of stampeding elephants, all sending out infrasound as they ran.
“Fugly! Hide!” Alan bolted for a felled branch that was the width of a railway track.
Gordon ducked behind a knob of root sticking out of the ground that was nearly as large as Four. He wasn’t sure where the others were, but he couldn’t see them. Something he hoped was true when the Fugly broke through the line of trees that made up one edge of the clearing.
It was easily the size of Two, built along the same lines as a mountain gorilla, but in all the shades of green. If that wasn’t bad enough, it had an incredibly thick neck that spouted three heads. All with rounded muzzles that sported a horrifying set of fangs that looked to be as long as Gordon was tall.
It grabbed a tree and pulled itself semi-erect, sniffed the air, and then let out another bone-rattling bellow. The scientist in the back of Gordon’s head noted that it had two thumbs, one on each side of the hand. It dropped back to all fours, only to pick up a chunk of a fallen tree and hurl it in their general direction.
Gordon curled into a ball to make himself as small as possible. Whatever scent they were giving off, the Fugly did not like it. More chunks of trees flew in their direction, followed by a boulder. Gordon had absolutely no idea how they were going to get out of this one.
“Gordon!”
He looked over to where Alan was crouched behind his chunk of a fallen tree. Then he looked at the Fugly, waited until it was facing away to dive out of cover, and raced over to Alan. There was a scream and something hitting way too close for comfort. “Al?”
Alan was glowing slightly and had a small golden globe in his hand. “I need you to shoot this at the Fugly. Aim for where the necks join the shoulder.”
Gordon didn’t argue. Just stripped the bolt thrower off his arm, pulled out the straight slingshot, and snapped it into shape.
Alan passed it over. “I have to keep my eyes on it, but don’t miss.”
The globe barely had any weight to it at all. Which made him wonder, but Alan hadn’t missed a trick yet. “What is it?” He asked as he fitted it into the pouch.
“My best weapon. When I say down, I mean down.” Alan peered over their tiny protection.
Gordon twisted up to his knees, sighted, and fired. For something that had no mass, it flew like it did. There was even a small tail, like a comet coming into the inner solar system. Alan kept his eyes locked on the glowing ball. Then at something Gordon didn’t see, Alan grabbed him and yelled, "Down!”
Gordon wasn’t too sure what happened next. There was light, a roar, the ground bucked beneath him, and his ears popped as the pressure wave rolled over them. He and Alan both peered over the rocks. Alan let out a whoop. “Take that, you bee-och!!”
Where there the three-headed neck had been, there was now an oozing hole, and Fugly crashed down onto the ground. The others poked up out of various covers and headed in their direction. Gordon just turned back around and slumped back against the tree. That had been way close.
“Where the bloody blue blazes did you get explosives and why didn’t you tell us you had them?” Virgil demanded as he strode up. Gordon wasn’t sure if it was Virgil the medic, or Virgil the demolitions specialist, but whichever it was, he was madder than a wet cat.
“I didn’t have any. I just made that.” Alan perched on the bit of tree that Gordon was leaning against.
“Which was what?”
Okay, it was the demolition expert, a much easier person to deal with than the medic.
“C2N14,” Alan said with a grin.
Gordon was facing Virgil. So he had a front-row seat to what happened next. Which was Virgil coming to a complete standstill as his brain sorted that combination of letters and numbers. Then his eyes got huge and grabbed Alan by the sides of the breastplate and hauled him upright. “Are you out of Your Ever-LOVING MIND?!”
Okay, maybe the demolition expert wasn’t easier to deal with.
“Hey, I told you guys that sometimes ‘Alan Tracy Crazy’ comes in handy.”
“That’s not crazy.” Virgil shook Alan hard enough to make his head bounce. “That’s freaking suicidal!! What the fuck were you actually thinking?!”
“Virg.” Scott’s hand on their brother’s back had the desired result.
Virgil let go of Alan and brought both hands to the side of his head. Gordon was sure that V would have been grabbing at his hair if it hadn’t been under a chain-mail coif. As it was, he was holding onto the sides of the coif. “C2N14! Are you stupid?!
Gordon caught the wince as Alan thumped down. “I am not! It’s the only one I could remember off the top of my head. It’s my best weapon!”
“You’ve done that before?! How the actual fuck are you not dead?!”
“Virgil, take a deep breath and calm down.” Okay, watching Scott be the peacemaker was just weird.
Virgil rounded on Scott. “He’s messing around with C2N14! This is about as calm as I’m going to get!”
“I’ve done it a lot.” Alan’s voice had gone hard and flat. “It’s the only explosive I could remember. As for not being dead - well, it hasn't been for the Dark's lack of trying.”
Virgil stared. “The only one you could remember?!?”
“It was the one I’d most recently studied before this all happened!”
Gordon pushed himself up, so he was seated next to Alan. “It’s a heck of a party trick, Al.”
“It’s not a party trick!”
“Then what is it, Virg?” Again Scott was the calm one.
Gordon looked around to see where John and Kayo were. They were checking out the Fugly’s corpse.
Virgil took several slow, deep breaths while Alan glared. Yeah, this was not good.
“Azidoazide azide, it’s a high-nitrogen energetic material. The most explosive thing ever invented by humans, and the most unstable.”
Okay, that sounded bad.
“It’s so unstable that looking at it makes it explode.”
Scott’s eyebrows vanished under his own coif. “That’s a bit much, isn’t it?”
Now it was Virgil’s turn to glare. “No, it’s not. Things that make that shit undergo explosive decomposition include, but are not limited to: putting it into solution, trying to X-ray it, putting it into a spectrometer, turning the spectrometer on, and my favorite - nothing at all! They had it in a dark, climate-controlled room, in an airtight box, and it still exploded!”
“It’s the only one I could remember. That’s also why I had to have eyes on it. To keep from exploding until I wanted it too!”
Scott got in between them, “Not the time or the place, Virg. It’s not our world and we still don’t know the rules.” He glanced over at Alan. “And according to our expert, this is quiet. I really don’t want to be here when it’s active.”
“Amen to that.” Gordon was starting to understand why Alan hated this place so much and he really didn’t want to be around when it was feeling frisky.
Luckily their path lay away from the Fugly and the rasping coughs coming from the surrounding forest were just more encouragement to get as far away from the sudden buffet as possible.
Once Gordon’s squid sense had settled down, he felt safe enough to ask a couple more questions. “Do we need to start collecting wood for tonight?”
Alan kept scanning the undergrowth. “Not really, all this stuff burns. Takes a while to get going but it burns for hours. Anything that’s leftover when morning comes, we should take with us though. But if you see a downed tree, it would make a good place for us to camp.”
“Understood.” Gordon had just about gotten used to having ‘Alvar’ around. There were still flashes of his little brother, but they were just that, flashes. Alvar would fit into any Strike team without even causing a ripple.
-o-o-o-o-
Something tickled at the edge of John’s hearing. He stopped, closed his eyes, and listened.
The sounds of the others, the rustle of foliage with their passing, the faint chime of the trees, the hiss of the breeze causing the chimes, and there, almost out of his range, was the sound of a human voice, calling out in fear.
Scott noticed that John wasn’t next to him, tagged Kayo, and went back. “John?”
Who held up a hand, “Listen.”
All Scott could hear with sounds of the others coming closer and the ambient noise of the forest. “Listen to what?”
John’s head tilted. “Someone else is here. I can hear them.”
Which was an electrifying statement. “Could someone else be here?” Scott swung to Alan.
Who was chewing on his bottom lip. “Maybe? Cracks can and have opened, letting bits of the Dark out or parts of our world in. But it could also be a trap; there are some very good mimics here.”
Scott hefted his mace. “We’re International Rescue. We have to check it out.” He turned to John. “Direction?”
“That way.” John opened his eyes and pointed to the left. It was off of the direction they needed to go, but they were Thunderbirds, they couldn’t leave someone in danger.
“Right.” Scott headed that way, with Gordon and Virgil close on his heels.
“I don’t like this, not at all.” Alan looked at Kayo and John. “I’m not the only one that thinks this is dumb, right?”
John’s grin was bittersweet. “When has ‘dumb’ ever stopped us?” He headed off after the others.
Kayo pulled her big knife.”They live through this, I’m going to beat some sense into their heads. C’mon, let's save them from themselves.”
“I hope that’s the only thing we have to save them from.” Alan pulled his axe and joined Kayo in following their brothers. The shrouds of mist seemed to thicken as John guided them toward something only he could hear. They had just crested a bank of water-created ledges when they all could hear:
-help-
The bank overlooked a clearing full of low grasses, younger trees, and a shimmer of water. John pointed toward a small rise of land, clad in a silvery green, standing out in the shimmer. “There.” They were picking their way down the terraces of the other side when John froze.
He had stopped so abruptly that Scott nearly ran into him. “John?”
The astronaut pointed to the small rise. “L-look.”
There, on the other side of the small marsh was a thin figure in sky blue, fighting a long-legged beast with shiny black skin with a pole of some kind. The figure twisted out of the way of an attack and they could see a gray line across the front.
“DAD!”
@mariashades and I were reading and thoroughly enjoying all the other scenes from HOME, when this one popped up.
This takes place about a week after the end of Home.
This is part of the Movement-verse AU created by the incredible @janetm74.
Warning: Tissues may be needed
...
The captains had left the day before, which had made the house seem even emptier. Alan was used to knocking around by himself, but for two glorious weeks, he’d had a family. Even if it had only been parts of his family, he’d had them. Adam, Brad, Pat, and Paul had sort of slid into - not big brother, but favorite uncle or close cousin slots in Alan’s head, and he missed them. Not as much as Scott and Gordon did, but he missed them all the same. That being said, Alan had questions. Big ones, that he was sure he wasn’t supposed to have or even have the answers to, but he was still going to ask them.
He’d set the stage carefully with half-remembered foods from the life before. Chicken and dumplings, flaky biscuits for dunking in the sauce, and a sweet corn casserole. Once Scott and Gordon had gorged on that, he’d brought out the star of the evening: a three-layer cake with a fluffy white icing.
He set it down, handed Scott the cake knife, and asked, “So, how long has Paul been superhuman?”
In his defense, Scott was halfway into a food coma, lulled into a relaxed state and distracted by the sight of the cake and the task of portioning it out. The eldest Tracy took in a breath and was preparing to answer (because he answered his brothers’ questions) when the question hit his conscious mind and he stopped short, setting down the knife. He blinked and clearly scrambled for something to say. “Ah, uh, he’s not?” Scott attempted, floundering and directing a pleading look at Gordon for assistance while he tried to figure out something plausible to say.
Amber eyes alight with mischief, Gordon eagerly leaned forward to throw his two cents in. "Well, when one super-powered human meets that other special super-powered - OW!" He jumped and winced, leaning down to rub his shin where Scott had kicked him under the table.
Alan just sat there, eyes slightly narrowed as he took in his brother’s reactions and kept quiet. He’d learned from both Kayo and Lady P that sometimes the best way to interrogate someone was to say nothing at all.
Scott glowered at Gordon, then pinched the bridge of his nose. Little brothers. Oi. He looked at Alan, knowing his brother was more than intelligent enough to start connecting the dots. "Paul is human, and he's our friend and he's earned our trust,” he said. "We're not allowed to say more than that."
"So he is 'super' human." Alan sat back. "Or is the correct term 'augmented'?" He waved the words away. "Doesn't matter. Gords broke his jaw, we all heard it, but he was fine afterwards. So this has got to be some top-secret Spectrum thing." He gave his brothers a pleading look. "It's not going to happen to either of you, is it?"
"I hope to high heaven it doesn't." The words slipped out of Scott before he could put a stop to them. "It...wasn't a Spectrum thing."
"Well, shit." Alan chewed on his thumbnail. "It can't have been Fischler, Paul survived it. Which means there's some other idiot scientist out there.” He sat up, his face becoming even more still as something occurred to him. “Is that why Paul's in Spectrum? Because it's safer for him?"
"We do protect him, yes..." Scott looked to Gordon and flicked his fingers, keeping the plate of cake between him and Alan. Help?
Gordon just looked at Scott and then turned to Alan, face deadly serious. "Al, we really can't tell you. The less you know, the less danger you'll be in. Just trust us on this for now, please?"
"And no asking EOS or Cloudbase." Scott added.
"I'm not twelve, Scooter." Alan gave his oldest brother an irritated look, before turning to his closest brother. "Is it really that dangerous, Gords? More than flying to Europa and going under the ice?"
"Yes, it is," Scott said quietly. "The others were serious the other night, about the odds of our boss having Paul shot if he found out about the information he gave out."
"He's not in danger, is he? I mean, people really don't get shot for disobeying orders anymore, do they? We had to know. If S.D. pulls his plans off, then the whole world is in trouble, more than it is now." Alan drummed his fingers on the table. A habit that no end of teachers, tutors, and older siblings hadn’t been able to rid him of.
"The Old Man would, but you're right, you all had to know, and that's why Paul was so sure he could get away with it."
Alan sat back with a growing scowl. "I really don't want to meet this 'Old Man' of yours, in some ways he sounds worse than S.D."
"You've met him before, but you were too little to remember. He's a good man, don't get me wrong," Scott tried to explain before Alan could set his mind in stone about the Colonel, "and he hates S.D. But when it comes to the fate of the world level stuff, he doesn't play with the security around it. And he's got to take a hard line to protect us, his people, from security leaks." Scott grimaced. "At the basic level there's a lot of folks with families who'll be in danger if colour code officers’ identities get out, but can you imagine the panic if the information about the Mysterons got out?"
"I said I'm not twelve, I'm not an idiot either," Alan snapped back, giving both of his brothers a look edged in Tracy Temper as he stood, insulted. "I like Paul, therefore, I'm going to worry about him. Just like I worry about you, Gords, John, Virgil, Kayo, Lady P, Parker, and Grandma. Clean up the kitchen when you're done. I'm going to my room. I have homework." He stalked out of the kitchen, trailing storm clouds and slamming the door shut behind him.
Scott watched him go, sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling like an absolute heel with how he’d fumbled the conversation. "...well that could have gone a lot better."
"Yeah, no shit." Gordon reached out to snag the knife and cut himself a slice of the cake. "We and I mean you, big brother, need to remember that our Squirt isn't so little anymore. You also need to remember we all had a hand in raising him. He's got John's smarts, my drive, Virgil's compassion, Kayo's skill, and your heart. We forget that at our peril."
"You're right about that." Scott also cut himself a slice, needing some fortification before he even considered tackling a Tracy in a temper. "Odds are he's going to go away, think about it, come back, and have the right answer."
"And he'll probably spring it on us over breakfast." Gordon took a bite of the cake and groaned. "Walnut with meringue icing. Whoever he ends up married to, better love exercising."
"Yup." Scott also took a bite. "...wow... this is... yeah, you're right, they'd better love exercise."
They finished the cake in silence, both wrapped in their thoughts.
Scott sighed as he stood up. “I’d better beard the lion in his den before he makes up his mind too much about Spectrum and the Colonel.” He waved a hand. “Mind doing the clean up?”
Gordon looked around at the nearly spotless kitchen, the only things besmirching it was the cake, the plates, and the utensils they’d used. “This isn’t clean up. Not sure what it is, but it’s not clean up. What the hell happened to our little slob?”
Scott huffed out a laugh. “He grew up more than any of us expected.” He headed for the door.
“I’m pretty sure he’s been more grown up than any of us expected for a very long time, Scooter.”
“...I think you’re right, Fish,” was the parting remark that Scott made, pausing at the door just long enough to deliver it before letting himself out and into the main area of the house.
He slowly moved through the building, turning off lights in the unused spaces out of habit and to give himself time to order his thoughts.
When he was at last ready, Scott knocked on the bedroom door and at the muffled grunt he let himself in. Alan was at the desk, typing away at something that involved strings of numbers and pointedly ignoring him. Normally, Scott would have quite happily let the different equations draw his attention, but there was something else he had to sort out first. “Alan?” he asked, crossing the room and crouching next to the desk.
“Mm.” Alan’s eyes didn’t move from the hologram.
The eldest sighed, he’d really put his foot into things. “Alan, I’m sorry. Neither of us meant to treat you like a kid, but this isn’t our secret to share and we have to be careful, really, really careful about what we can say.”
Alan didn’t even dignify that with a grunt of acknowledgment.
Scott rubbed his hand over his eyes, this was going to need some big guns. “Alan, you saw what happened in the kitchen the other day,” he said quietly, “can you imagine what UnNamed would do if he caught wind of it? I know you wouldn’t say anything about it willingly…”
“But we’ve got our own protocols for reasons.” Alan left off typing. They’d carefully partitioned off who knew about what so that just in case someone was captured and interrogated, not all of their secrets would be available. “And if S.D. knew that someone at Spectrum had the ability to heal that quickly…” he paled at the thought and turned to look at Scott. “The amount of money he could make off that would be obscene…”
“Yeah. It’s another reason why we really don’t want him to be World President.” Scott grimaced. “He’d get the full briefing, including what happened to Paul. We talked about it a couple of nights ago, spitballing what might happen.”
“Dollars to donuts, Paul will get transferred somewhere and never be seen again.” Alan’s voice was very quiet as he extrapolated out what would most likely happen. “But… you’d all protect him, right?” He looked at Scott, blue eyes very wide.
Scott nodded. “Yeah, we’ve got some plans together. We’d hide him for as long as we could, and he’s got a bunch of places where he can go to ground. He’s also got… contingencies. Permanent ones. He made it pretty clear that absolutely no one will get anything from him.” Scott grimaced at the memory of that particular conversation- Paul had laid out his plans in very clinical terms, then gone outside and spent a long time sitting on the dock and staring out into the night, Adam sitting beside him to watch his back and guard his privacy as Paul worked through his extremely complicated emotions on the matter.
“But his accelerated healing, could it help other people?” Alan asked, a furrow of concentration marking his brow as he chased down the tangent thought. “Spectrum could do their own research and turn it into some sort of medicine? Or make their own version of the treatment he went through?”
The elder Tracy shook his head. “There was some investigation on if that part could be teased out, but it’s most likely a package deal with some other stuff, and the price tag of it all, and especially continuing that research, was way too high. Mengele-level stuff.”
Alan ducked his head and crossed his arms, fingers tapping his upper arm as he mulled the information over. Scott quirked a brief half-smile at the sight- Alan looked so much like John in this moment there was no doubt they were brothers, despite how very different they looked.“...he’s a Mysteron replicant, isn’t he?” Alan lifted his head as he breathed out the answer. “That’s how he can heal like that.”
“Paul is a good and trusted friend. He’s saved my life, Gordon’s life, John’s life, and countless others.” Scott replied carefully, confirming without confirming anything. “Stuff happened to him, yes, but where it counts he’s human and he’s Paul.” This was a conversation that the other captains had very deliberately had with him and Gordon- emphasizing Paul’s humanity and putting the focus on Paul-the-person, not Scarlet-the-replicant.
“Scott, you’re still a lousy liar.” Alan ran a hand through his hair. “Paul’s a replicant.” He waved a hand to stop the words before Scott could even say them. “Yes, he’s human. But he’s a special human. One that people would do - really bad things to if they knew, and not just S.D.” He sat back with a small grin. “So he really is superhuman.”
Scott sat back on his heels. It was going to take a while to get used to this grown-up Alan vs the little brother his mind still had Alan at. “He is. But you can’t say anything.”
"I won't," Alan responded absently, picking at a hangnail on his thumb as the new information percolated through his brain.
Scott couldn't help the fond smile as he watched Alan extrapolate and calculate. Gordon was right, John’s smarts were right there, front and center.
Alan looked up at him, a frown of concern marking his brow. "Scott… is, is Paul okay?" He put a very familiar weight on the word, the same weight used whenever a worried family member was checking in with someone. "The Mysterons had to kill him to replicate him… no… they would have murdered him and then used him…that has to have messed with him."
That statement was pure Virgil's compassion, just as Gordon had said. "He wasn't, not at first." Scott shifted to sit cross-legged on the floor, it was more comfortable. "And you're right, he was murdered and effectively puppeted for almost a day, he doesn't remember anything from that time. It's not really talked about, but according to Adam he was pretty grim and moody for a while, and he's developed some quirks from it, but the others say he's coping a lot better now."
"That's good to know." Alan slid out of his chair and sat beside Scott, leaning against him. Scott automatically put an arm around him and they sat in silence for a time until Alan finally ventured a quiet "Scott?"
"Yeah?" Scott asked just as quietly, sensing something heavy was on his littlest brother’s mind.
"You know, ever since starting college and meeting other people, I've started wondering if S.D. isolated us on the Island just to hide how severely messed up our lives were." The words were let out reluctantly.
"I don't think it was the main reason, but it was something in the 'pro' column." Was Scott’s reply to that, and he gave Alan a reassuring squeeze.
"What was the main reason?" To Scott’s ears, Alan didn't sound like he wanted to know.
"Are you sure you want that answer?"
"...yes."
"As near as I can figure, there were two main ones- to have an independent territory to make the legalities for iR a hell of a lot easier, and to keep Brains isolated and under his control."
"What?" Alan bolted upright. "We have to get him out of there!"
"We can't." Scott looked down, the old pain of Brains' situation flaring to life. "He doesn't see it like that, at least not yet. Mark- the Mechanic- tried to talk to him about it before he left, but Brains doesn't see his situation as something bad. I don't like it any more than you do, but Brains doesn't think he needs rescuing." Scott shook his head sadly. "He started to come out of it while UnNamed was in the Oort Cloud, but as soon as he was back, Brains fell back into the old pattern again. He’s not ready to be rescued yet."
“But - “ Alan took a deep breath and throttled back whatever it was he was going to say. “We can’t save everyone.” It was Thunderbird Three that said those words to his Commander. “No matter how badly we want to.”
Scott’s heart broke a little and he gathered Alan into a hug. “No, no we can’t. We can’t save people who aren’t ready or willing to be saved.” ‘No matter how much it hurts.’ But he kept that to himself. Alan was mature beyond his years, but Scott didn’t want him to have to learn that lesson just yet.
Alan held the hug for a long moment, then pulled back. “So, what can we do?” His eyes narrowed as he worked the problem.
“Be there. Be ready to help or to rescue him when he’s ready or,” it was Scott’s turn to center himself, “when there is no other choice.” He desperately hoped it didn’t come to that, but once again, the brutal facts of his life tended to lean in that direction.
Alan’s jaw tightened and Thunderbird Three came to the fore. “Then we need contingencies and backups.” He stood up, swiped closed the file he was working on, and opened another one. “He won’t leave without MAX. We need a place that both of them can stay at or hide out at if need be.” He split the screen into three parts. “We need a list of places with pros and cons for each one. We need a covert way to get Brains and MAX off the Island, as well as an overt one.” Alan’s fingers drummed on the desk as he thought.
Scott pulled himself upright with care, he was healing, but not yet healed. However, the minor aches were nothing compared to the pride he had in watching Alan work the problem. Here was Gordon’s drive with Virgil’s compassion, mixed with a healthy dose of John’s smarts and Kayo’s skill, and Scott could not be prouder.
"Remember, Virgil and John are also available assets," he pointed out, leaning on the edge of the desk, "as is EOS."
"Could EOS work on Brains through MAX?" Alan chewed his lip as he considered the thought.
"Worth asking." Scott nodded his agreement. Brains listened to MAX, it might just work. "We'll have to consider all iR assets as compromised, but FAB1 and FAB2 are safe. We've already got plans for extracting Virgil with a Spectrum sub or helicopter, if the timing is right we can get all three of them out at the same time."
"What about locations?" Alan frowned as he rapidly made notes.
"Not here." Scott shook his head. "UnNamed knows about this place and as far as he's concerned, Brains is irreplaceable. He let me, Gordon and you go, but he'll come after Brains. The Manor is an option though."
“Maybe for us, but not for Brains, it doesn’t have a workshop. Not to mention S.D. knows about it and he’d look there.” Alan’s fingers drummed again. “We need places that S.D. won’t look at and that have a setup that would keep Brains and MAX happy for the duration.” He typed things into one of the screens, faster than Scott could read them. “Spectrum is out because he’d look there because of you and Gordon.”
“Actually, UnNamed doesn’t know Gordon is in Spectrum.” Scott pointed out.
Alan quirked an eyebrow at that. “Really?” He snorted in contempt. “For a smart man, S.D. can be very dumb. But that opens up WASP, if Gordon is still on good terms with his friends there.”
Scott was ashamed to admit, he hadn’t thought of WASP as a bolt hole.
“I’m still in contact with Conrad Butterfield, he’s got room on the SpaceHub and S.D. wouldn’t think to look there. So that’s two possibilities.”
“Good idea. I’ll message John, he might know a couple of places too. Push comes to shove, we can probably stash him on Cloudbase for a few days if we have to wait for something else to be ready. Brains will love Cloud and the engineering deck and the Old Man will keep UnNamed well away.” Scott mused, reading over Alan’s notes, then he looked at Alan and just stopped for a moment.
Alan was an adult.
The concept struck Scott, not yet uprooting the old mental image of ‘little brother teenage Allie’ but certainly shaking its foundations.
His littlest brother, the baby of the family, was all grown up. He’d filled out and gained height, the lines of his face had sharpened and he’d mostly shed the baby fat, and he had a maturity to him that was well beyond his years. He was driven and smart, wise in a way that none of them had been at his age, with a heart that matched them all.
Small wonder he’d had to warn off Paul from recruiting him, Alan was exactly the sort of person that White looked out for.
“Hey, Alan?” Scott reached out and touched Alan’s shoulder to make sure he had his brother’s attention, knowing how Alan could blot out just about everything when he really focused on a task.
“Yeah, Scott?”
Scott felt his expression change as he looked at Alan, his smile coloured with sadness, but also with pride as he told his brother, “Mom would be so incredibly proud of you.”
Alan blinked several times as those words sank into his brain. The confident man vanished and was replaced by an uncertain boy. “You think so?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I haven’t done anything important yet. Not like she did.”
Scott took hold of Alan’s other shoulder. “You’ve saved hundreds, if not thousands, of lives. You always think of other people first. You’ve planned your future around making the world a better place, and you’re planning how to help someone that doesn’t even know he needs the help yet.” The smile was still sad but it was broad. “She would be so proud of you. Just like I’m proud of you. Alan, you’re the best of us.”
