#blow off valve kit

[clearsuitninja]

Shop for Blow Off Valve Kit @ EXAIR .com

Streamline your compressed air cleaning with EXAIR convenient Blow-Off Valve Kits! These all-in-one kits provide everything you need for efficient part cleaning, chip removal, liquid blow-off, and more. Each kit includes your choice of a powerful Air Nozzle or Jet, a length of Stay-Set Hose for easy maneuverability, and a magnetic base for hands-free operation. Order now!

[vividracing]

New Post has been published on https://www.vividracing.com/blog/everything-you-need-to-know-about-the-ultimate-hks-jdm-toyota-gr-supra/

Everything You Need To Know About The Ultimate HKS JDM Toyota GR Supra!

At Vivid Racing we have the privilege of building and experiencing some wild cars. Some are built for style, while many are built to try and produce the most power within a restrictive and rather small budget. For this blog, we had the pleasure of diving head-first into HKS’s Toyota GR Supra on our home turf. The way that sounds doesn’t seem to give it much justice. This isn’t any ol’ A90 spec’d with a laundry list of aftermarket bolt-ons. This MKV GR Supra was tastefully built to showcase HKS’s full MK5 Supra portfolio at the 2020 SEMA Show and Tokyo Auto Salon. For a legendary Japanese company like HKS, this build isn’t something that was to be taken lightly. They need to make an interruption and that is what they set out to do when building this car.

If you aren’t familiar with HKS Co. Ltd, they are an aftermarket automotive company based in Fujinomiya, Japan. The company specializes in creating high-performance parts designed for Japanese-made vehicles. HKS stands for Hasegawa, Kitagawa, Sigma. The brand was founded in 1973 by Hiroyuki Hasegawa, who used to work with Yamaha Motor Company, along with his partner Goichi Kitagawa and was financed by Sigma Automotive. The initials of the three were used to create the HKS brand. In today’s world, HKS is considered one of the gold standards for creating some of the highest quality aftermarket performance parts for Japanese Domestic Market vehicles.

The company has its humble beginnings in a small shed at the foot of Mount Fuji, catering to gasoline-powered engines used for farming. In 1974, they were the first company to introduce a turbocharger for commercial vehicles, and it was a hit, especially for those Japanese tuners who wanted more out of their vehicles. Today, HKS has become the brand everyone knows about when it comes to performance adders and has expanded its reach worldwide

This Toyota GR Supra features some brilliant products such as the HKS Premium Body Kit, HKS FRP GT Wing, HKS Edition Bride Racing Seats, HKS Cold Air Intake Kit, HKS Hipermax S Coilovers with Full Canceller Kit, HKS Super Turbo Muffler Exhaust System, SQV4 Blow Off Valve Kit, and much, much more.

1. Exhaust System

Made to perfectly fit the Toyota Supra GR 2019-2021, this muffler has the same pipe diameter as the Dual Muffler, 31014-KT001, that was previously released. Available in our shop for just $2,963.45, this system was manufactured using the latest HKS technology. For those who are equipped with a catless downpipe and want to suppress the exhaust sound, this is the perfect product for them as this muffler was designed to control the sound and keep the volume low.

Features:

Inspection-Ready, Noise Regulation-Compliant Muffler

OEM Exhaust Valve Compatible

Fully Adjustable

The slitted inner side improves sound silencing

Titanium Gradation Tail

Balanced-size tail tips for bumper cut-outs

2. Cold Air Intake System

We recommend this cold air intake system for owners of Toyota GR Supra 2020. Available in our shop for $1,328.95, this is a high-efficiency air system developed for high-performance street and track vehicles. When you install this system you are guaranteed to have an improvement in air induction due to HKS inner funnel design, which smoothly guides forced air flow which results in increased horsepower, torque, and engine response. The system has a 2-layer air filter element which is focused on maximizing airflow for performance, yet still keeping harmful particles from the engine.

Features:

Employing the same carefully crafted carbon material with beautiful twill texture used at HKS Dry Carbon Racing Suction.

Approx. 500g of weight reduction. (Stock: 3.1kg, HKS: 2.6kg)

3. Oil Filler Cap

  Made to fit the BMW Z4 2021+, and Toyota Supra 2022+ perfectly, this is another HKS product that we recommend as your next upgrade. This machined aluminum cap is yours to grab for an affordable price of $98, ready to be attached to the filler cap with double-sided tape and giving the engine bay a solid and luxurious look.

Features:

The aluminum cap cover for the BMW B-series gasoline engine fits over the plastic oil filler cap.

Easy installation by simply attaching with double-sided tape.

Material: Aluminum Alloy (Duralumin)

Color: Anodized Red

4. Blow-Off Valve

Made to fit the Toyota Supra GR 2020+, this $1,079.95 HKS blow-off valve will have your Supra making all sorts of good noises, not to mention the performance improvements. HKS is known for making some of the best-forced induction components on the market, HKS did not miss that mark when it comes to this blow-off valve.

Features:

Constructed from High-Quality Materials

Get that distinct BOV sounds everyone loves

5. Suspension

For the best performance in suspension, we recommend these $3,300 HKS coilovers. Designed for great driving performance and a comfortable ride, this coilover is the best choice for street, sport, and comfort in driving. It will help to achieve ideal traction in any condition for excellent driving performance. Made to perfectly fit the Toyota GR Supra 2019+, this coilover will revolutionize your vehicle’s handling, performance, and traction, since it was manufactured by utilizing the technological capabilities cultivated over the past 9 years since the launch of MAX IV SP.

Features:

Super Response Fluid (Exclusive newly developed Oil) – Improved damper oil quality and viscosity.

Improves characteristics of Damping force, achieving great handling performance. Suppresses temperature change caused by heat

Low Vibration Spring (Exclusive high-strength Spring) – Manufactured with 210k grade high-strength wire rods. Adopted to shorten wire length and reduce weight and Improves Steering response.

Upper Spring Retainer (Exclusive for HIPERMAX R) – Allow the damping axis and spring load lines to align coaxially. Reducing friction and Smoother damping.

6. Suspension Error Canceler

This HKS Suspension Error Canceler (SEC) for Toyota Supra GR 2020+ is available in our shop for just $373.95. This Suspension Error Canceler (SEC) stops the suspension system problem error code from being displayed when using aftermarket dampeners/coilover suspensions.

Features:

GR supra (RZ(DB42)/SZ-R(DB22) stock shock absorber electronically controlled.

The vehicle detects an error when the electronically controlled stock shock absorber is removed and displays an error message in the meter panel and control display (the graphic below)

Suspension Error Canceler (SEC) is able to work even after upgrading the shock absorber. Use this kit in combination when replacing coilovers.

7. Body Kit

Full Body Kit and GT Wing

  This is the first of the original aero kits created by HKS, and it is available in our shop for just $9,500.95. Developed from HKS’s involvement in motorsports which provided data and knowledge utilized in manufacturing new products, this wide-body kit gives your Toyota GR Supra that aggressive, sporty look that turns heads.

Features:

This kit is made from glass-fiber-reinforced plastic. (Black gel coat finish on the surface)

The bodyline inherits successive race cars.

Fenders and rear canards that take into account the effect of rectification to the rear of the vehicle will stabilize running.

Rear downforce can be secured by installing a GT wing.

This product is designed to obtain an optimal downforce by performing CFD analysis to take into account aerodynamics

HKS has been pursuing durability and downforce in the ultra-high-speed range by conducting tests on high-speed circuits.

Kit Includes:

Front Lip

Rear Fender R/L

Front Fender R/L

Rear Duck-tail

Side Sill R/L

Rear Canard R/L

FRP GT Wing Rear Spoiler w/ stands and brackets etc.

FRP GT Wing

The HKS FRP GT Wing Toyota Supra A90 GR 2020-2023 is available in our shop for just $3,800.95. Made from the data collected from HKS’s continued involvement in motorsports, this wing significantly alters the appearance and aerodynamics of the Toyota Supra A90 GR, by increasing the surface area of your car which allows for additional downforce compared to other rear spoilers on the market.

Features:

Material: Fiber Reinforced Plastics

Including Stand+ Blacket+License plate cover

Secured rear downforce

This product is designed to obtain an optimal downforce by performing CFD analysis to take into account aerodynamics

HKS has been pursuing durability and downforce in the ultra-high-speed range by conducting tests on high-speed circuits.

Body Kit

If you prefer a body kit without the wing, make sure you grab this $6,650.95 body kit from HKS. This body kit is created as the first of the original aero kits by HKS by utilizing aerodynamics feedback from the experience gained through past HKS time attack machines, such as “CT230R”, “TRB-03” and “TRB-04”.

Features:

This kit is made from glass-fiber-reinforced plastic.(Black gel coat finish on the surface)

The bodyline inherits successive race cars.

Fenders and rear canards that take into account the effect of rectification to the rear of the vehicle will stabilize running.

Rear downforce can be secured by installing a GT wing.

This product is designed to obtain an optimal downforce by performing CFD analysis to take into account aerodynamics

HKS has been pursuing durability and downforce in the ultra-high-speed range by conducting tests on high-speed circuits.

Kit Includes:

Front Lip

Rear Fender R/L

Front Fender R/L

Rear Duck-tail

Side Sill R/L

Rear Canard R/L

[hirocimacruiser]

FD3S

Fully armed with Veilside Aero, powerful

Fully certified aero FD3S

I said, ``It's a rotary after all.''

I often hear voices. That's right,

Rotary has a unique feel that reciprocating doesn't have. It feels like it's spinning, but tuning is easy and the effect is great.

That's one of its charms.

After changing to FD, the engine

became a sequential twin turbo, and the power in the high rotation range became much more exciting. The combination of a completely lightweight body and a powerful engine means there's no need for more power. When it comes to FD class, initially

It would be a good idea to spend money on aero and suspension parts instead of engine tune. Therefore, we recommend this Veilside full aero FD. After all, it has a beautiful finish, just like the demo car at the shop. The silver body and suspiciously glowing aero parts create an indescribable atmosphere. Properly set aero

is cool. This FD has a normal engine,

An ARC cleaner box is attached to the intake, and it is equipped with a boost meter, Apex muffler, etc. The boost meter is embedded in the A-pillar, but since the boost is not being increased, there should be no need to worry about engine trouble.

When looking for an FD, it is safe to buy a dress-up tuned car like this one and then tune the engine yourself. Also, Aero is quite expensive to buy new, so it's like this.

It can be said that used cars are a bargain.

PIC CAPTIONS

●The interior looks just like when it was new, and you can't believe it's a 4-year-old model. Other than the boost meter built into the A-pillar, there are no noticeable changes to the car.

●The engine is completely normal, and the air cleaner has been changed to an ARC one. The FD is quite powerful even in normal condition, so it's a good idea to hone your skills before tuning the engine.

●Of course, the powerful VeilSide Full Aero is officially certified. This huge rear spoiler is also beautifully finished to match the FD's supple body lines.

INFO BOX

Infini RX-7

1992 model, inspection date October 9th

Mileage 19,000km 2,580,000 yen

Tune data: Veilside

Full aero kit

MOMO Steering

boost meter

Apex muffler

ARC air cleaner

- Blitz Blow Off Valve

GET 8 stage shock

Modena 17 inch Aluminum

SHOP INFO

Rabin Corporation

1-2-2 Shibahara-cho, Toyonaka-shi, Osaka 560

06-846-7864

Most of the FDs and FCs we handle have normal engines. We don't want any problems to arise after the customer has purchased the product. SA22C is also always in stock.

[nageltrailerrepair]

Essential RV Camper Winterizing Techniques

Winter is a challenging season for RV owners, especially those who live in regions with harsh weather conditions. As the temperatures drop and snow begins to fall, your RV camper requires special care to ensure it remains in top condition for the next camping season.

Winterizing your RV camper is a crucial process that protects your investment from damage caused by freezing temperatures, moisture, and other winter-related issues. In this blog post, we'll explore essential RV camper winterizing techniques that will help you safeguard your vehicle and ensure it’s ready to hit the road when spring arrives.

Why Winterizing Your RV Camper is Important?

Before diving into the winterizing techniques, it's essential to understand why this process is so crucial. RV campers are equipped with various systems and components, such as plumbing, electrical, and HVAC systems, that can be severely damaged by freezing temperatures.

Water left in pipes can freeze, expand, and cause the pipes to burst. The RV’s exterior, including the roof, windows, and doors, can also suffer from moisture intrusion, leading to mold, mildew, and structural damage. By properly winterizing your RV camper, you can prevent these issues, extend the lifespan of your vehicle, and avoid costly repairs.

Step 1: Drain the Water System

One of the most critical steps in winterizing your RV camper is draining the water system. Water left in the pipes, tanks, and water heater can freeze, causing significant damage.

Drain the Freshwater Tank: Start by draining the freshwater tank completely. Open all the faucets, including the hot and cold water taps, and let the water flow out. Don’t forget to drain the shower, outdoor kitchen sink, and any other water outlets.

Empty the Grey and Black Water Tanks: Next, empty the grey and black water tanks at a designated dump station. Once emptied, clean the tanks with a tank cleaner to remove any residual waste and odors.

Drain the Water Heater: Turn off the water heater and allow it to cool before draining it. Locate the drain plug or anode rod, typically at the bottom of the heater, and remove it to drain the water. Open the pressure relief valve to allow air in, speeding up the draining process.

Bypass the Water Heater: Most RVs have a water heater bypass valve that allows you to avoid filling the water heater with antifreeze. Turn this valve to bypass the water heater.

Blow Out the Water Lines: Using an air compressor, blow out the remaining water in the lines. Attach the compressor to the city water inlet and set it to a low PSI (30-40). Open all faucets and water outlets, starting with the one furthest from the compressor, to blow out the water.

Step 2: Add RV Antifreeze

After draining the water system, the next step is to add RV antifreeze. This non-toxic antifreeze is designed specifically for RVs and will prevent any remaining water in the pipes from freezing.

Use a Water Pump Converter Kit: A water pump converter kit makes it easy to draw antifreeze into the water system. Attach the kit to the water pump and insert the antifreeze hose into a container of RV antifreeze.

Pump Antifreeze Through the System: Turn on the water pump and open each faucet, starting with the closest one to the pump. Run the antifreeze through the cold and hot water lines until you see a steady stream of pink antifreeze. Don’t forget to run antifreeze through the shower, toilet, and any outdoor faucets.

Pour Antifreeze into Drains: Pour a cup of antifreeze into each drain, including the kitchen sink, bathroom sink, shower, and toilet. This will protect the P-traps and prevent them from freezing.

Step 3: Protect the Exterior

Winter weather can be harsh on your RV’s exterior, so taking steps to protect it is vital.

Clean and Inspect the Roof: Start by cleaning the roof to remove dirt, debris, and any signs of mildew or mold. Inspect the roof for cracks, loose seals, or other damage. Repair any issues with RV roof sealant to prevent water intrusion during winter.

Seal Windows, Doors, and Vents: Inspect the seals around windows, doors, and vents for cracks or gaps. Replace any damaged seals with weatherproof caulk or sealant. This will prevent cold air and moisture from entering the RV.

Cover the RV: If possible, store your RV under a protective cover designed for winter storage. A high-quality RV cover will shield your vehicle from snow, ice, and UV damage. Ensure the cover is breathable to prevent moisture buildup and mold growth.

Protect the Tires: RV tires can suffer from flat spots and cracking during winter storage. Inflate the tires to the recommended PSI and cover them with tire covers to protect them from the elements. If possible, consider lifting the RV slightly off the ground to reduce the weight on the tires.

Step 4: Prepare the Interior

The interior of your RV also requires attention to ensure it remains in good condition throughout the winter.

Clean and Empty the Interior: Thoroughly clean the interior of your RV, including the kitchen, bathroom, and living areas. Remove all perishable items, such as food, toiletries, and cleaning supplies. Store linens, cushions, and other soft materials in a dry, temperature-controlled environment to prevent mold and mildew.

Remove Batteries: Batteries can be damaged by cold temperatures, so it’s best to remove them from the RV. Disconnect the batteries and store them in a cool, dry place. Check the charge periodically and recharge them if needed.

Prevent Rodent Infestation: Rodents can cause significant damage to your RV’s interior during winter storage. Seal any gaps or holes in the RV’s exterior to prevent rodents from entering. Place rodent repellent, traps, or mothballs in the RV to deter them.

Ventilation: Ensure there is adequate ventilation inside the RV to prevent moisture buildup. You can leave roof vents slightly open with vent covers to allow air circulation while keeping out rain and snow.

Step 5: Store the RV Camper Properly

How you store your RV camper during the winter can significantly impact its condition when you’re ready to use it again.

Choose the Right Location: If possible, store your RV in a covered, climate-controlled facility. If that’s not an option, choose a flat, well-drained area away from trees or other hazards.

Stabilize the RV: Use RV stabilizers or blocks to keep the RV level and stable during storage. This will reduce stress on the frame and tires.

Cover the Exhaust and Inlet Pipes: Cover the exhaust and inlet pipes with mesh or another breathable material to prevent rodents and insects from entering the RV.

Disconnect the Propane Tanks: Disconnect the propane tanks and store them in a safe location. Ensure all propane appliances are turned off and that there are no leaks.

Check on the RV Periodically: Even during winter storage, it’s a good idea to check on your RV periodically. Inspect the exterior for any signs of damage, check the interior for moisture or pests, and ensure the RV cover is secure.

Step 6: Preparing for Spring

When the winter season ends and it’s time to prepare your RV camper for use, there are a few steps to take before hitting the road.

Remove the RV Cover: Carefully remove the RV cover and inspect the exterior for any signs of damage that may have occurred during the winter.

Reconnect Batteries and Propane Tanks: Reconnect the batteries and propane tanks. Check the batteries’ charge levels and refill the propane tanks if necessary.

Flush the Water System: To remove the antifreeze, flush the water system thoroughly. Refill the freshwater tank with clean water and run it through all the faucets until the water is clear and free of antifreeze.

Inspect the RV’s Systems: Check the plumbing, electrical, and HVAC systems for any signs of damage or malfunction. Test all appliances to ensure they’re working correctly.

Check the Tires: Inspect the tires for any signs of wear, cracking, or flat spots. Inflate them to the recommended PSI and check the condition of the tire treads.

Clean the Interior: Give the interior a thorough cleaning, including wiping down surfaces, vacuuming, and sanitizing the kitchen and bathroom areas. Replace any items you removed for winter storage.

Perform a Final Inspection: Before hitting the road, perform a final inspection of the entire RV. Check the exterior for any signs of damage, ensure all systems are functioning, and make any necessary repairs.

Conclusion:

Winterizing your RV camper is not just an optional task; it’s a critical step in preserving your investment, particularly in regions like Michigan where harsh winter conditions can wreak havoc on your vehicle. By following essential RV camper winterizing techniques, you protect vital components, such as the plumbing system, electrical systems, and exterior, from damage caused by freezing temperatures and moisture. Draining the water system, adding RV antifreeze, sealing windows and doors, and properly storing your RV are all key actions that ensure your camper remains in peak condition throughout the winter months.

In the Great Lake States, where winters can be especially unforgiving, thorough RV camper winterizing Michigan is even more crucial. The cold climate demands extra attention to detail, from insulating and sealing to protecting tires and batteries. Neglecting any aspect of the winterization process can lead to costly repairs, not to mention the frustration of discovering preventable damage when you’re ready to hit the road again in the spring.

For those in Michigan, it’s advisable to consider local professional services that specialize in RV camper winterizing. These experts are familiar with the specific challenges posed by Michigan’s winter and can offer tailored solutions to keep your camper safe. Whether you choose to tackle winterizing yourself or enlist the help of professionals, ensuring that every step is completed with care will pay off in the long run. Proper RV camper winterizing not only protects your investment but also gives you peace of mind, knowing that your RV will be ready for the next adventure as soon as the snow melts and the open road calls once again.

[helloemergencyservices]

Replacing a bathtub faucet

Turn off the building's main shutoff valve

For almost any plumbing repair in the home, you'll need to turn off the water to prevent leaks, flooding and blow-off while you work. Locate the building's main shutoff valve, usually located in the basement or mechanical room.

Turn off the water and open the faucet at the sink or at a sink in the basement to drain most of the water from the system. It is also recommended that you turn on the faucet at the sink and bathtub to drain any water trapped in these pipes.

Place a towel or rag on the bottom of the tub

When you replace the bathtub faucet, you will need to remove and handle one or more screws. By placing a towel or cloth on the bottom of the tub, you can prevent these small fixtures from accidentally falling down the drain. It is also a good idea to store the faucets in a safe place outside the tub until they are needed for reinstallation.

Remove the handle register from the stem

Start replacing the faucet by prying the index off the handle's stem with a flathead screwdriver. The index is the small plastic or metal circle that sits in the center of the handle and prevents access to the fasteners. If you carefully pry up on each side of the index, you can remove it from each handle without breaking or cracking it. However, if you use too much force, the index may break. This is not a concern, however, if your new faucet replacement kit includes a new handle and index.

Loosen the handle attachment to remove the handle

Use a flathead or Phillips screwdriver to loosen the screw that was under the index. If the screw appears to be seized, do not attempt to continue turning it with the screwdriver as this will likely wear the screw out. Instead, treat the screw with a lubricant solution.

Turn the screw counterclockwise until it can be completely removed, and set the screw aside in a safe place until needed for reinstallation. You should now be able to pull the handle off the shaft without much effort. If you have a second handle, repeat the process to remove the screw and handle.

Unscrewing the handle from the faucet

After you remove the handle, you should see a thin tube sticking out of the wall. This is the stem that is responsible for controlling the faucet. The stem can be removed with a socket wrench that reaches over the stem and grips the hex nut. Using the socket wrench, turn the nut counterclockwise to loosen the stem.

Install the new grips

It is very easy to reinstall the handle. Simply slide it over the new shaft until the handle touches the wall. Use a flathead or Phillips screwdriver to secure the handle with the old screw you removed, or with a new screw if one was included in the bath faucet replacement kit.

Call the Emergency Plumber in Worcester. We are your right contact partner. Call us now, 01905959004.

[performancecarparts]

Top Car Part Turbosmart

If you are looking for the turbosmart car part then connect with top brand Performance Car Parts. We are having a well-known name for car part accessories providers all over UAE.

You can order online also from the U.S we made it possible for U.S retailers to buy products online too at affordable shipping and packaging costs. To know more about us visit us at https://www.performancecarparts.me.

[tomboiny1]

In 03 I bought a brand new lighting yellow Evo VIII. First one sold by my dealer. What a beast it was. Especially when I had the Buschur built 2,3L stroker with fully built big valve head with Toda 320 highlift cams, HKS3037S turbo kit, alcohol injection system, AEM stand alone ECU, and other bits that gave just under 500 hp to the four wheels at the floor, not crank. I miss that little brute. Fun times when changing gear on full boost with the HKS blow off valve screeching and the external wastegate sneezing. It scared someone off their bike once

Restaurando un Mitsubishi Evo Lancer VIII:

@sonny____g

[subiedepotca]

AVO 13+ Subaru BRZ / SCion FR-S Turbo Kit OEM Plastic Style Blow Off Valve

Check out AVO 13 Subaru BRZ / Scion FR-S Turbo Kit OEM Plastic Style Blow Off Valve and other Engine Products at SubieDepot in Canada. Special order this and usually you will get it in 10 to 15 business days. Source: https://www.subiedepot.ca/engine/turbochargers-and-superchargers/blow-off-valves.html/s6z12g00a002t-avo-13-subaru-brz-scion-fr-s-turbo-kit-oem-plastic-style-blow-off-valve.html

[clearsuitninja]

Blow off valve kit | Order Online at EXAIR.com

EXAIR's Blow Off Valve Kit will take you to the next level of expertise. Utilize customized air solutions for your blowoff, cooling, drying, and cleaning requirements. Select a model with your desired Air Nozzle or Jet, along with a Stay Set Hose and a magnetic base, to easily create your solution. The power to optimize is in your hands. Visit the website now and redefine what's possible.

[vividracing]

New Post has been published on https://www.vividracing.com/blog/why-is-the-hks-sqv4-universal-super-sequential-blow-off-valve-so-damn-good/

Why is the HKS SQV4 Universal Super Sequential Blow Off Valve So Damn Good?

Today we are covering everything you need to know about HKS’s line of different Blow Off Valves, and kits, and which one is the right choice for you! We will cover the most frequently asked questions along with some hacks to making your blow-off valve louder. We are going to turn this post into the ultimate buyer’s guide for HKS Blow-Off Valves by explaining in detail why HKS SQV4 Universal Super Sequential Blow-Off Valve is so damn good. For those who don’t know, the HKS Sequential BOV is a well-known and highly regarded blow-off valve (BOV) in the automotive aftermarket industry.

The HKS Blow-Off Valve is manufactured by HKS, a prominent performance parts manufacturer based in Fujinomiya, Japan. The company introduced the SSQV BOV in the early 1990s, and it quickly gained popularity among car enthusiasts around the world. HKS is respected in the aftermarket industry, as the company focuses on designing products that solve problems found in stock parts. This statement is especially true when it comes to the design of HKS BOV SSQV, which was designed to address the limitations of stock blow-off valves, which release excess pressure from the turbocharger system when the throttle is closed. Due to their poor construction from inexpensive materials which are not optimized for performance and limiting design qualities, stock BOVs often suffer from issues such as leaking, slow response times, and inadequate flow capacity.

With the manufacturing of HKS BOV, the brand sought to overcome these limitations by developing a blow-off valve that offered improved performance, reliability, and sound. The SSQV was designed with a unique sequential valve structure, which allowed for quick and precise pressure release. It utilized a piston-type design with dual valve springs and diaphragms, providing enhanced response and durability compared to stock blow-off valves.

Shop All HKS Blow Off Valves

One of the critical reasons for the popularity of the HKS SSQV BOV is its distinctive sound. The sequential valve structure, along with the dual valve springs and diaphragms, creates a distinct and recognizable “whoosh” or whistle sound when the pressure is released. This sound has become synonymous with turbocharged performance cars and is often desired by car enthusiasts as a flex of power and performance when done tastefully.

Additionally, the HKS SSQV BOV gained popularity due to its reputation for quality and reliability which are signature characteristics of HKS products. The company has a long-standing history in the automotive aftermarket industry and is known for producing high-quality performance parts. The SSQV BOV was designed and manufactured to meet HKS’s rigorous standards, ensuring long-lasting performance and compatibility with a wide range of turbocharged vehicles. Typically compared to its knock-off versions, the authentic HKS SSQV is constructed and engineered to meet the demands of high-performance vehicles, and their quality and long-lasting characteristics make them worth the bucks. We do not recommend the knock-off version blow-off valve as a replacement.

Overall, the HKS SSQV Blow-Off Valve has achieved popularity and acclaim among car enthusiasts due to its superior performance, distinctive sound, and reputation for quality and reliability. It has become an iconic aftermarket upgrade for turbocharged vehicles, offering improved functionality and an enhanced driving experience, and sound. If you would like to buy the HKS SSQV, you can CLICK HERE to buy the HKS Universal Super Sequential Blow-Off Valve Kit, or you can use the links below to buy HKS vehicle-specific Super Sequential Blow-Off Valve Kits;

Shop Toyota Kits

Shop Honda Kits including kits for the 10th Gen Honda Civic

Shop Nissan Kits

Shop Mazda Kits

Shop Mitsubishi Kits which includes kits for the Mitsubishi EVO X

Shop Subaru Kits including kits for the Subaru WRX

You can also buy the HKS Racing Sequential Blow-Off Valve Kit (which is the racing option) by CLICKING HERE.

Since we promised you answers to your HKS SSQV questions, here are some of the frequently asked questions when it comes to this BOV;

Can the HKS BOV be adjusted?

Answer: No, the HKS SSQV is not an adjustable BOV. Although, for higher power and larger displacement applications, HKS does recommend the Racing SQV. The Racing option (71008-AK004) is a larger 51MM valve that has an adjustable pre-load for a wider range of high-performance applications.

How to make the HKS BOV louder?

Answer: The Blow Off Valve can be made louder by replacing the original Fin. HKS produces 2 optional Fins for the BOV. The Gold Triple Fin (1422-SA002) has a mild blow-off sound that is a bit louder than stock. There is also a Purple Round Fin (1422-SA001) that produces a louder and higher frequency blow-off valve sound. (Pshhhhh) We’ve found the Purple Fin seems to be the people’s champ.

Is the HKS BOV easy to install?

Answer: Yes, the installation process for an HKS Blow Off Valve is rather simple. Although, if you decide to go the route of buying a Universal Blow Off Valve kit, it can take some extra fabrication and piping to fit the BOV to your vehicle. This would make the installation more advanced and require more technical knowledge.

How do you install the HKS SSQV?

Answer: Installing the HKS Blow Off Valve is a rather easy process and all the installations manuals can be found here: https://www.hksusa.com/manuals#blowoff

How to tell if an HKS BOV is real?

Answer: You always want to purchase HKS parts through a trusted reseller. Vivid Racing is a Master Seller of HKS products and has been a trusted dealer for over 20 years.

You can get the replacement Super Sequential BOV Parts by clicking on the link below:

C-Clip and O-Ring 

Vacuum Filter

Weld On Aluminum Flange 50MM

Weld On Aluminum Flange 60MM

Weld On Aluminum Flange 65MM

Aluminum Flange 35MM 40 Degree

Recirculation Fitting 29MM ID Hose

Recirculation Fitting 19MM ID Hose

Gold Fin

Purple Fin

[babbushka]

For Flip Friday, I’d love to hear about Flip hating life while trying to show off his non-existent handy man skills! He should stick to chopping wood instead of trying to be Mr Fix It lol.

Thank you!!! 💗

A/N: Lol my queen hello! Thank you for sending this in of your own accord and not at all being influenced by me whatsoever 😉

1.1k, no warnings, just nonsense lol (inspired by real events)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The toilet is running. You can hear it even all the way downstairs, where you’re flipping through a magazine on the couch on a scorchingly hot summer afternoon. There’s an oscillating fan blowing air this way and that, and even despite that noise, you can hear the toilet running.

This isn’t the first time it’s happened either, the upstairs bathroom has been acting up more and more lately. Every time you went to deal with it though, it miraculously stopped -- almost like a car that will make noise every other moment other than when it’s at the mechanic’s.

But this time, you don’t dare approach the toilet, figuring that the most sensible thing to do would be to catch it off guard; which prompts you to call out to your dearly beloved husband who is sticking his head in the freezer to attempt to cool off himself, “I’m going to call the plumber, you’re home on Friday right?”

“What?” He calls back, making you get up with a slight groan. It was too hot to move, let alone get up, but the phone is on the wall in the hallway, so you muster up the strength to leave the direct line of cool air from the fan.

“Friday? The plumber?” You reiterate as you pass the kitchen on your way to the phone, and now that he can hear you fully, he immediately begins to protest.

Removing himself from the freezer, Flip furrows his brow and crosses his arms over his chest. He’s not in one of his usual button-downs, instead sporting a white thin tank-top that shows off his muscles deliciously. Whether he does so consciously or not, those biceps of his flex, almost like a challenge for something.

“What the fuck do we need a plumber for?” Frowning, Flip’s eyes dart between you and the phone in your hand as you begin to dial the number.

“The toilet is running again.” You explain, as the line rings, and you’re pretty sure someone was just about to answer when Flip’s big fingers press down on the receiver, effectively hanging up the damn call.

You shoot him a dirty glare, but he’s unfazed by it, instead brushing past you to head up the stairs himself.

“Oh, if that’s all, then I’ll just go fix it.” He says, as if he’s got any experience whatsoever with plumbing.

Flip was a handy man, of course. He worked in a lumbermill for fuck’s sake, he knew his way around wood. You both knew you could count on him to fix a wide range of household maintenance, and he took great pride in being able to do these things for his home. But there were certain skills that required a little more technical knowledge, things like electrical wiring, and, well, plumbing.

He’s halfway up the stairs when you decide that maybe he shouldn’t be fuckin’ around with the pipes in case he floods the upstairs, but you phrase it in the only way that you know how to avoid bruising his ego -- trying to get him to come to the conclusion that the plumber should be called.

“...Are you sure honey?” You start, apprehension in your voice.

“‘Am I sure’ -- of course I’m fuckin’ sure. I helped build this house, I can fix the damn plumbing on my own, I’m sure it just needs a bit of elbow grease is all.” Flip scoffs, lighting up a cigarette and rummaging through the upstairs closet for one of the many tool-kits he has stashed around the house, inspecting it to make sure his wrenches were there.

“Flip -- ”

“C’mon, don’t you trust me? I tinker with stuff around the house all the time.” He points out, and while you agree, still your earlier hesitation lingers.

“I know but plumbing is different than a wobbly table or a stiff door-hinge.” You point out right back, and Flip, filled with more self-confidence than he probably should have, just waves you off.

“You go right back to that fan and magazine and keep cool and don’t worry about it. I’ll be back down in no time.” He blows you a kiss, which you have no choice but to return, before shaking your head and doing as he says, knowing that once he gets his mind set on something, there’s no changing it.

Back on the couch, you wait.

It doesn’t take too long for the first noise to start up -- a loud bang that sounds suspiciously like Flip dropping the toilet tank lid.

“Everything’s fine!” He shouts preemptively, and you have to bite back a grin, the urge to chant I told you so so strong in the forefront of your mind.

Theoretically, you knew how toilets worked; you push the handle, a plug opens and the water drains out of the basin. New water from the tank fills the basin, and then the plug closes, letting a new batch of water fill the tank for the next flush. A buoy in the tank rises, and when it hits the top, the water filling the tank stops -- and this seems to be the issue that this particular toilet has had, for whatever reason, when the buoy rises to the top, the water just...keeps going.

Hence the running.

You know that Flip knows how this works too, but what you’re positive he doesn’t know, is how the hell to make the water stop running, short of just shutting the water line off to that toilet.

And that’s about when you hear another loud crash, this time accompanied by an even louder, “Oh for fuck’s sake!”

Training your ear up to the bathroom, you hear the tell-tale sound of water spraying, and you wince, the image of the inlet valve spitting high pressure water all over your husband and the floor.

“God dammit -- ” There’s all sorts of shouting now, loud cursing that only grows more and more aggravated and panicked, “No! Stop -- fuck -- shit!”

There’s more banging, and a very loud thud that sounds suspiciously like Flip has either slipped on the wet tile, or tripped over something, and you do your best not to ask if he’s okay, because you know you’ll only get snapped at in his own frustration.

The toilet is still running, when you hear the sound of his heavy footfalls coming back down the stairs.

You bite back a laugh at the sight of him, when he finally does come into the living room, standing before you a man defeated. His white tank-top is completely and see-through, his hair is wet, his jeans are unfortunately soaked in a spot that makes it look like he pissed himself, and there are streaks of black grease from the toilet plug smeared across his face, hands, and shirt.

The two of you look at one another for a moment, before he slowly nods his head, clearing his voice and rubbing at the back of his neck, “I think we should call a plumber.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

---------------------------------------------------------------------------@mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @caitlin-was-here @canikeepitonplease @icarusinthesea @princessflip @goddessofsprings @sweetlyours @mrs-gucci @baubub @bucky-j-barnes @mindyoshiii @beachwoodmonet @darkhairedmenrule @eagerforhoney

[eastertag]

@willow-salix gift for @gordonthegreatesttracy

The only thing he was aware of was the pain, pain so great it felt like his entire body had been ripped apart and set on fire. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, he wasn’t even sure if he was alive or dead.

A world of pain, beyond which nothing else existed. 

The heavy weight that had been pounding on his chest stopped, his lungs screamed in protest as he tried to suck air into them, fighting with him.

“I’ve got output!”

“He’s back!”

 -x-

THIRTY-SEVEN MINUTES EARLIER

“You’re so lucky!”

“I know,” Gordon grinned, something that had been an almost permanent fixture on his face for the past three days since he’d heard that he, a relative newcomer, had been picked over everyone else. It was such an honour, completely unexpected, but an honour nonetheless.

“How did you even pull it off? Did Daddy throw some cash their way?” Browns teased.

“Ha! You wish that was the reason, then you’d never have to admit that it’s all down to my superior skills and outlandish charm,” Gordon preened as he yanked at the left leg of his dry suit. It was cumbersome, far thicker than he was used to, a complete pain in the ass to drag on, but an essential bit of kit that he would not be allowed out without.

Browns helped him hoist the back up over his shoulders once he got his arms in the holes. Gordon rolled his shoulder, settling the stiff material in place as best he could. He still felt uncomfortable but it sure beat the alternative.

“Five minutes to go!” his commander called through the door. “You almost ready, Tracy?”

“I was born ready, sir.”

“Good lad, then get moving.”

Gordon tried his hardest not to run out of the door, so eager was he to get his butt in that seat. Some people would never understand his excitement, but to him it was a dream come true. He’d seen the way his eldest brother would practically vibrate with excitement whenever he called home and told them all about the latest plane he’d been called in to test drive and, Gordon had to admit, he’d never really understood what all the fuss had been about. Now it was his turn and he knew that he’d be grovelling to Scott in a few hours time, begging his forgiveness for all the times he’d teased him about his latest winged crush. He was just as guilty, except his crush had two sleek and sexy foils propping her out of the water like the majestic queen that she was. And he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.

The next five minutes had flown by faster than he could track, people had surrounded him on all sides, all yanking and pushing and prodding him into place. One had helped him climb into the cockpit, carefully navigating so as not to knock his helmet on the metal bars of the reinforced frame that would encase him on both sides. Another had buckled him into his seat, bringing the safety straps down over his shoulders and clipping them into the buckle between his legs. Yet another had double checked the air supply to his suit, just in case.

The Navy hadn’t touched hydrofoils for almost a century after they had been deemed too expensive, too unpredictable and of no real use. Now WASP had taken up the challenge.

The project, codenamed Poiseiden, had seen the designing, building and now the testing of the Sea Skimmer hydrofoil, which looked set to be the next shining gem to come out of the experimental watercraft division. 

As long as it worked as it should, there was the potential for it to become a standard vehicle in all branches of WASP before the end of the year, making high speed sea rescues or pursuits all the easier. 

“Did you hear me, Tracy?” the engineer to his left asked again, making him jump.

“Yeah, sorry,” Gordon winced, cursing his lack of attention. 

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” 

“I’m good, I swear. I was just running a mental checklist and didn’t hear you the first time,” he lied smoothly, refusing to admit that he had been picturing the glory that he’d get from this once the programme was rolled out across the board. This was a career making opportunity and he couldn’t afford to blow it.

“Good,” the man patted the top of Gordon’s helmet affectionately, before bellowing over his shoulder; “Team, roll out!”

The flock of people that had been buzzing around the craft melted away, each person having already completed their specific task or moving to prepare for it, leaving Gordon alone.

His gloved hands flexed on the controls, impatient to get going. The silence around him was broken by the crackle of the radio then the unmistakable sound of a countdown. Thirty seconds to go...twenty...ten...five…

The second clearance was given he was off, easing the boat out of its covered dock and out into WASP’s test harbour. Once he was clear of the floating observation platforms he opened her up, moving her in a graceful figure eight, just letting her glide through the water as he got a feel for the way she handled while gradually increasing speed.

He was five miles per hour off the predicted speed when he felt the first hint of lift, the very thing he had been waiting for. He straightened out, deviating from his previous path to that of a straight line before pushing the throttle a little more. 

As her speed increased so did the lift, the foils doing their job perfectly, raising her hull out of the water, the foils beginning to skim just as they were supposed to. He couldn't help the little woop of excitement that escaped as the bow kept lifting higher and higher. It was only bloody working!

“You’re doing great, Tracy,” the voice over the radio said. “How does she feel?”

“Great, just great,” Gordon replied. “She’s handling like a dream, a little twitchy but nothing terrible. I can feel every little move that the water makes but not like a normal boat, more like when you’re surfing. She’s not plowing through the water, she’s skimming it just as she’s supposed to.”

“How much more can she take?”

Gordon glanced down at the speedometer, registering that she was already at just over two hundred miles per hour.

“Nothing in here, I'd need to take her to the open water.”

“Affirmative, carry on.”

Grinning widely, Gordon steered her straight for the opening that led to the stretch of ocean that was permanently closed to all marine traffic within a hundred and fifty square miles. He heard the safety boat following somewhere behind him but ignored it, they were professionals and would know to keep out of his way, he just had to concentrate on his own driving.

Once he was clear he pushed the throttle forward easing into the last third, ready to push her to her max. He watched as the speedometer readouts climbed ever higher, ten miles, twenty, thirty, she kept going, lifting higher and higher out of the water. He wasn't just feeling it, he could see it, the angle of the horizon line ahead of him changing before his eyes.

“Give her all she’s got, Tracy,” his commander encouraged and Gordon was only too happy to comply. It felt amazing, she was gliding, almost effortlessly, barely skimming the surface of the water as her sleek, aerodynamic foils sliced through all resistance like a hot knife through butter.

“Yes, sir!” 

He pushed the throttle forward that last few millimeters until it could go no more. The engines roared their approval as the numbers continued to tick over edging ever closer to that elusive three hundred mark…

“Yes!” he screamed in triumph as the two rolled into a three. 

“Well done, Tracy!” the voice over the radio praised. “How does she feel?” 

“Like she’s standing still,” Gordon enthused. “It’s effortless, I can barely feel her moving at all. Smooth as silk.”

“Give her one last go around and then start easing back into port.”

“Got it,” Gordon confirmed, moving to do just that.

What happened next was both too quick to register but also felt like it was happening in slow motion. His hand gripped the throttle, starting to ease it back in order to begin deceleration, meaning to execute a large sweeping curve to bring her back around to face port. The handle, which should have moved back as easily as it had moved forward, stayed exactly where it was.

The hydrofil was already coming into the turn and her nose lifted even further, suspending her almost bolt upright for a split second before she left the water completely, shooting up into the air.

She cartwheeled through the air, end over end for three full turns before she came crashing face down into the water. Somewhere during the second tumble Gordon had managed to locate and press the button on the side of the steering wheel that activated the emergency ejector seat. 

He felt the side of his helmet crack against the crumple cage, making his brain rattle in his skull as darkness overcame him.

“Move! Move! Move!” Commander Jennings bellowed as the safety boat he was on rushed to the scene. He could see the pilots seat in the distance, floating in the ocean not far from the wrecked craft. 

His instruments and readouts told him that the safety valves in Gordon’s dry suit had opened, meaning that the suit’s sensors had detected enough ejection force to initiate the rush of air that would fill the suit, acting as both a cushion and a stabilizing force to protect his body as it crashed into the sea like a rag doll. 

The sensors also told him that Gordon was not breathing.

They reached his side in less than a minute, paramedic divers already throwing themselves overboard to reach him before they had come to a complete stop. 

They turned him over, finding a deep crack in his helmet that extended to the visor which was letting in water, filling up the space his head currently occupied. They flipped open the visor, letting the majority of the water drain away, but the hoped for breath was never heard.

A hover stretcher appeared beside them as they released his safety harness and dragged him to the board. He was strapped down and hauled into the boat as quickly as possible.

The second he was aboard they wasted no time in releasing the safety catch on his helmet and removing it as carefully as possible. They knew that they were risking further damage to his neck or spine, its current condition unknown, but getting him breathing was their top priority.

Working in tandem one started rhythmic chest compressions, trying to force the water out of his lungs and air down into them. On the count of thirty the paramedic stopped allowing his partner to seal her mouth over Gordon’s pushing two breaths into his lungs. They waited a beat, eyes searching for any kind of response while another of the team held the medscanner over him, waiting for the verdict. Nothing. 

“Keep going, I’ll get this tube in him,” another ordered as they continued to work. Two rounds of chest compressions and mouth to mouth were completed as they readied the tube, chest compressions continuing as it was inserted.

They worked solidly for more than three minutes until finally, blessedly, the medscanner registered the faintest flicker of life. But it was enough.

-x-

The nurse hadn’t expected the sheer number of people that surged through the doors of her emergency room, all yelling one name and demanding to know what was going on, where he was, to be taken to him, to see his medical records and to talk to his doctor RIGHT THIS MINUTE.

“You can’t all be in here,” she started, trying to instill some kind of order into the chaos that was now clustered around the receptionist, who was blinking like a deer in headlights, unable to form words, her eyes darting from one to the other, trying to decide who to answer first.

“Are you in charge here?” the tallest man demanded to know, his eyes flicking from her face to her name tag, Senior Nurse Sophie Gardner. 

“I am,�� she stated calmly, crossing her arms to show she meant business. She’d been on the receiving end of a large number of distressed family members and knew that they would pounce on her the second she showed even the slightest hint of weakness.

“Who are you here to see?”

“Gordon Tracy, he was brought in by air around 90 minutes ago,” Scott told her, trying his hardest not to snap. 

“And you are?”

“His brother.” 

“And the rest? It’s close family only, no friends allowed.”

“His brothers and our grandmother,” Scott answered, daring her to argue.

“All of you are family?”

“Yes! What do you need ID now?” Scott snapped, rapidly losing patience. 

“Can we see my grandson now, please?” Sally asked, inserting herself in front of Scott and into the conversation. 

“Let me just look him up,” Sophie said, moving to the computer to pull up his file. She remembered the state of him when they had brought him in, she had only just come on shift but had been there to do the handover. 

An air ambulance had arrived, landing on the helipad on the roof and he had immediately been rushed through her department, barely giving them time to complete the minimum of observations and take notes before he had been whisked away again. It wasn’t unusual, they were one of the most advanced military hospitals in the country, they were used to life or death cases. 

She could picture him, lying on the stretcher, strapped to a board, his uniform suit cut to ribbons both from scissors and from whatever had happened to him to cause so much damage. He was instantly fast tracked through her department and rushed on to the surgical team for scans and treatment. 

Now Sophie was faced with his scared and demanding family and it looked like it would be falling to her to deliver some of the bad news.

“He’s being prepped for surgery, he might even be in by now. The full extent of his injuries aren’t known but I can promise you we’re doing our best.”

“When can we see him?” Virgil asked, butting in for the first time, leaving John to continue texting Kayo who had stayed behind with Alan. Alan had not been happy with that decision, but the others had stood firm. They didn’t know what they were going to find when they got there, what state their brother would be in and the youngest didn’t need to see anything that would be hard for him to forget. Scott had tried to impose the same restriction on Sally but had quickly given up, knowing it had been a lost cause before he had even started.

“When he’s out of surgery and stable,” Sophie replied kindly, knowing that they didn’t mean to be so forceful and demanding, she wasn’t going to take it personally just yet. “If you’ll all follow me I’ll take you to the relatives room where you can wait for news, I’ll let the surgeons know that you’re here but I’m afraid you might be in for a long wait.”

“Waiting won’t be a problem,” Scott assured her as they stalked down the corridor after her.

It was a silent party that sat in that room all night long, sat for more than nine hours as their little brother underwent one gruelling surgery after another, the first of many trips into the theater that he would undergo over the next few days, or so they had been told.

The member of the surgical team, who had been called in to talk to them, had been kind and very sympathetic as he had delivered the crushing news, revealing the full extent of Grodon’s injuries. Each one more horrific than the last.

The immediate concern was his ruptured spleen, lacerated liver, punctured lung and depressed skull fracture. The plan was, if the current surgeries he was undergoing went well, to keep him in a medically induced coma as soon as he was out of surgery, give his body at least 24 hours to rest and strengthen before taking him back in to deal with the numerous fractures he had sustained.

Among those fractures were a broken nose, broken arm, a fractured wrist, a broken leg, fractured pelvis, numerous broken ribs and, most worrying of all was the two cracked vertebrae in his neck, two herniated discs and the pulled muscles that went along with them.

If the operations to fix and stabilize those broken bones went well, then he would be passed to the cosmetic surgery team who would do what they could for the deep lacerations that littered his skin, friction burns and the removal of any foreign objects that had entered his body due to flying shrapnel.

The nurse had kindly sent a porter in with hot drinks and sandwiches for them once the doctor had left but they remained untouched, none of them able to stomach the thought of eating. All they could do was watch the clock, counting down the minutes and, for some, praying to anyone they thought would listen. They bargained, they made promises, everything that could possibly help.

They had lost too many people in their family already, their grandfather and mother on the same day, their mothers parents a few years later and then, most recently, their father. The thought of losing another person, one so integral to their lives, was too horrible to even contemplate.

“He’ll be fine,” Scott said out loud, feeling the need to break the silence, knowing exactly what his family were thinking because he’d undoubtedly been having the same thoughts. “It’s Gordon, nothing keeps him down for long.”

“He’s made it this far,” John agreed. “I saw the report on the hydrofoil and-”

“Wait, how did you see that?” Virgil asked, happy to be distracted.

“I...well...I have my ways,” John stammered, his face slightly flushed, refusing to look at them.

“John?” Scott’s tone said it all.

John sighed defeately. “I wanted to know exactly what happened, I might have hacked into the accident report that WASP submitted an hour ago.”

“I can’t believe you did that!” Virgil groaned. Honestly, John was supposed to be the brother that he didn’t worry about, because it obviously wasn’t Gordon or Scott.

“I can,” Scott said, glaring at his younger brother who stared right back, undeterred by the look that had had many a young air force recruit shaking at the knees. 

“Are you telling me you don’t want to read it?” John asked innocently, waving his phone temptingly in his brother's direction.

“No, of course not, that’s highly illegal and-”

John wiggled the phone one last time.

“Give it here,” Scott growled, leaning over to snatch the phone. “Just to see if there is anything we can blame them for.”

“Of course,” John agreed placidly. “That was the only reason I looked.”

Virgil tried to hold in the small snort of laughter that bubbled up, feeling that it would be highly inappropriate, but his grandmother caught his eye, smiling softly.

Sally reached for one of the now cold cups of coffee that had been provided and, as always taking their cues from her, Virgil did the same.

“Eat up, boys,” Sally instructed, nodding to the plates of sandwiches. “When that boy comes through, and I’ve no doubt that he will, he’s going to need our strength. He’ll have a lot to deal with and we’re going to be there for him.”

“Yes, Grandma,” they agreed, dutifully reaching for a sandwich each. She was right, their brother was a fighter, he was a Tracy after all, there was no way on this earth or beyond that he would let something like this take him out.

-x-

The first thing Gordon noticed when he regained consciousness was the fact that his mouth was so dry his tongue felt like the inside of a hamster cage and he couldn’t seem to work up any spit. He concentrated hard and tried to swallow a couple of times but something was stopping him. 

He tried to lift his arm to touch his mouth but that one tiny movement was enough to wake up his body as well as his mind. Pain the likes of which he had never felt before engulfed him from head to toe, not one part of him seemed to be free of it. Even his eyeballs hurt. He couldn’t help the little whimper that escaped his nose and, when he tried to speak, to call out for any kind of help at all, he was once again hampered.

“Hey, hey, you’re OK, just calm down for a second, let me get a doctor,” someone said, their voice soothing and gentle, as was the cool hand they placed on his forehead. A buzzer sounded somewhere nearby and he forced his eyes open to see what was happening.

“Try not to talk or move,” said a new voice that was accompanied by a blurry face. “You were in an accident and you’re in hospital. You’ve been through a lot but you’re responding really well, you’ve got a breathing tube but your lungs seem to be working fine so just sit tight for a few minutes and we’ll see about getting that out for you.”

Gordon allowed himself to relax as best he could as the first person to have spoken returned.

“Are you feeling any pain?”

He nodded as best he could with what felt like a neck brace holding him still and even that little movement hurt. How could something as simple as moving his head take so much energy? How could it be such an effort?

“I’ll just give your epidural a little top up, you’ll soon feel better. We had to reduce your medication a little to bring you round and it's always a bit of a balancing act to get the right amount to keep someone comfortable.”

He, Gordon could tell it was a male now, was as good as his word and soon the aching in his body dulled from a screaming roar to a low rumble, far more manageable than it had been before.

“I’m Doctor Clark,” another new voice announced, introducing himself. “I was your surgeon and I’m here to see about getting that tube out of you, but I need to just check you over first, is that alright? Don’t try to nod, just lift your hand or even a finger if that’s all you can do.”

Gordon tried to nod anyway but gave up and commanded his right hand to move, finding it a little easier now that he could barely feel it. The doctor could do whatever he needed to, as long as he got that damn tube out of him and let him have a drink.

Dr Clark checked the readouts, made him breathe deeply a number of times, listened to his chest and, after attaching a suction device to the end of his tube, made him cough a few times to clear his lungs, then listened to his chest again. 

“OK, you’re sounding good, can you just open your mouth for me?” 

Gordon did as he was told and the doctor suctioned away with little moisture he’d managed to produce with his coughing, cut away the tape holding the tube in place and took hold of the end.

“I’m just going to deflate the air cuff inside, you might feel a small easing of pressure but don’t worry if you can’t.”

Gordon felt nothing but assumed that the doctor had done as he said he would.

“I need you to take two deep breaths for me and then when I tell you, I need you to give me a couple of good coughs, can you do that?”

Gordon attempted a thumbs up as nodding or moving his head much was making him dizzy, but he couldn’t move enough to do so and had to settle for just a brief one finger lift.

“Alright, deep breaths, one...and two...and now cough, nice big cough…”

As Gordon coughed the doctor tugged gently on the tube. He felt it slide up his throat, hitting his tonsils on the way out, making him gag and cough as he fought to keep calm. 

“All done,” the doctor praised, and immediately an oxygen mask was slapped over his nose and mouth, easing his breathing just a little. “You did good, how do you feel?”

Gordon tried to swallow, to speak but his throat felt like it was on fire and all he could do was croak. 

“Mouth dry?” 

He coughed again, wincing at the pain in his throat. 

“We can’t let you drink yet, but we can try to make you a little more comfortable.”

The nurse took his mask off again and inserted something wet into his mouth which she swirled around, coating the inside of his mouth. It felt horrible, like a wet slug rolling around in there, but it at least gave his parched tongue a little relief, although it was nowhere near enough.

“What happened?” he rasped after clearing his throat a few times and drinking a little more.

“You’ve been in an accident, but you’re safe now,” Dr Clark told him.

Gordon frowned, although the action made his head hurt. “Was I...mission?” He must have been doing something, there was no way he could have any kind of accident of this magnitude on his island home with his family present… his thoughts skidded to a halt.

“Family?” he managed to whisper, his eyes darting around the room. Had something happened to them?  Had they been in a plane somewhere?

“They are all in the relatives room, waiting for you to wake up,” the nurse told him.

“They...OK?”

“Yes, they weren’t involved,” the nurse answered, obviously used to the way that patients' minds could work. Gordon closed his eyes, relaxing now that he knew his family were safe. That meant that he must have been doing something with his unit.

“Team?” he rasped.

“I’m sorry?” the nurse obviously couldn’t decipher that one.

“My team...hurt?”

“Oh, no, it was just you.”

That gave him a little peace of mind, knowing that no one else had been hurt, but that still begged the question of what the hell had he been up to?

“What happened...to me?

“Some kind of boat crash,” Dr Clark explained, looking up from the notes he was adding to the tablet at the end of his bed. “I didn’t ask too many details, I just got to work. I patch up people, not machinery.”

“Boat?” 

“Yes,” the doctor nodded. “I hear your family are rather anxious to see you, would you feel up to seeing one of them?”

Gordon nodded as hard as he was able, even though he’d been told not to. There was nothing he wanted more in the world than to see a familiar face.

-x-

“He’s awake,” the nurse told the waiting Tracys who had become an almost permanent fixture in the relatives room over the last ten days. Sometimes there would be just one of them, more often than not only two, but now there were six of them waiting with baited breath to find out the news.

A sigh of relief rippled around the room as they all let out the breaths they had been holding.

“Can we see him?”

“Is he talking?”

“Does he remember anything?”

The questions came thick and fast as they often did. Grace had gotten used to one or more of them popping up without any notice and demanding information. They had managed to pull some major strings and gotten hold of his medical records, how she did not know, and had sat there poring over them until they knew as much about his case and treatment as she did. The grandmother, it transpired, was a retired surgeon that still kept her hand in now and then, and so she had taken it upon herself to pelt them with questions on an hourly basis when she was there.

“Yes, you can see him,” Grace started, picking the easiest question to answer, clearing her throat to get their attention back when they broke out in excited chattering. “But only one at a time. He’s been through an ordeal and he’s not strong enough to deal with too much excitement.”

“Only one?” Virgil asked.

“Yes, just one,” Grace insisted, giving them that look they referred to as her matron glare. 

They argued back and forth for a few moments, something she’d noticed they did a lot, before coming to their decision. 

Grace led Mrs Tracy into the private room where her Grandson rested. In the brief time that she had been gone it seemed that Gordon had drifted off to sleep again, something that would happen quite often over the next few days as his body rested and the drugs that were keeping him pain free did their job.

“I’ll just sit here and wait,” Sally told Grace, using the same no nonsense tone that Grace herself used with difficult patients and she knew it would be useless to argue.

“I’ll get you a chair,” Grace said, giving in gracefully.

“Thank you, dear.” 

-x-

Gordon didn’t know how long he’d slept for, or if he’d even slept at all. His mind was fuzzier than his first hangover and he had no clue if it was night or day. There were no curtains open in the room he was in, no hint of an outside world, just the clinical bleakness of the white ceiling and the ever present beeping of the machines monitoring him.

Thankfully he was still floating on a blissfully cloud of oblivion, feeling detached from every part of his body, like it didn’t even belong to him. He coughed to clear his throat, his mouth feeling ever so dry once again.

He tried to turn his head, to lift his arm to reach for the glass of wet swabs that had been there earlier, but another hand beat him to it, it’s arm encased in a familiar purple velour fabric.

“Gr-grandma?”

“Right here, son” she said softly, aware that he might not appreciate her speaking too loudly. She nodded for him to open his mouth and with practiced ease, swirled his weird water lollipop around his tongue and the roof of his mouth.

“Better?” she asked. “Had enough for now?” Seeing his small nod she set the glass aside and turned back to face him. “You had us all very worried, young man.”

“Sorry,” he rasped, wincing when it hurt his throat. “What...ha-happened? They said...boat.”

“You don’t remember? Nothing at all?”

“No.”

“You were test driving the new hydrofoil for the experiential watercrafts division.”

“I was?” he paused to cough, the action pulling at his chest, a sharp stabbing pain shooting through him from his ribs and abused lung. “Guess I didn’t do too well with it, huh?” 

“I’m sure it wasn’t anything you did,” she assured him.

“How long was I out?” he asked. The more he was talking the easier it was getting, although his throat still felt like he’d been swallowing razor blades. He must have been asleep a good few hours to feel this weak and woosey.

Sally took a deep breath before delivering the news. “Sweetheart, you were in a coma for ten days.”

Gordon blinked, unable to fully comprehend what she had just said.

“Ten...ten days?” How badly had he been hurt? He tried to lift his head, tried to look down at his body to assess the damage. A gentle hand on his chest stopped him from straining too much, but not before he registered the fact that both of his arms were in casts, so too was his leg and, now that he wiggled, he could feel something like a large stiff belt around his stomach and between his legs. His eyes widened in shock, his eyes darting down to his midsection, his face turning white with fright when he saw the bandages. Had...had something happened to little Gordon? Oh God, please say no!

“How bad?” he demanded to know and, although his voice was shaking, Sally knew he needed to hear the truth. Knowing it would be better coming from her she didn’t mince her words, quickly and clinically rattling off his list of injuries and the treatments he’d had so far.

“Quick bone fusion for the right arm, left wrist and left leg. They reset your nose at the same time. Your pelvis wasn’t as badly damaged as they had feared and didn’t need pinning, just a little lasering, though it is immobilised for no-”

“Just my pelvis? Nothing...else?” he winced, not wanting to talk about such things to his grandma but needing to know all the same.

“Just your pelvis,” she assured him with a knowing smile. 

“What else?” he asked, breathing a sigh of relief at the news that he was still whole...down stairs.

“They repaired the torn ligaments in your shoulder, have immobilised your neck due to two cervical fractures of the vertebrae-”

“That’s not...I’m not...can I walk?” he tried to wiggle his toes and thought he felt movement but he couldn’t see to be sure.

“It’s not paralysing, no. No damage from that at all.”

“What else?”

“Apart from the fractures you’ve got two herniated discs and pulled muscles there too.”

Gordon gestured with one finger for her to continue.

“You’ve got a number of cracked ribs from the CPR-”

“CPR?” 

“You hit the water face down, from what we were told it was due to your helmet filling up from a crack in the visor.”

“So I basically drowned out there?”

Sally nodded, keeping her eyes focused on his. With anyone else she would have fudged a little, maybe broken it to them a little more gently and eased them in. But Gordon was, first and foremost, a Tracy, and they liked the facts, all of them, because that made it easier to fight back. And she had zero doubts that he would do just that.

Gordon took a deep breath trying to wrap his head around all the information she was laying out for him. He’d taken it all in so far, like it was happening to someone else, but that, the knowledge that he could have lost his life to the thing he loved most, the sea...well that was just too hard to think about.

“And the rest?” he asked, wanting to know all there was, no nasty surprises in his future.

“Depressed skull fracture, fractured eye socket that will heal on its own, punctured lung from your ribs and the CPR, a particle splenectomy from a reputed spleen and a repaired liver laceration. You’ve also had a number of stautures and some skin grafts already but I’m afraid you might still need more.”

“Is that all? One more stamp and I could have gotten a free cup of coffee.”

Sally didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry when he made such a bad, but totally Gordon, attempt at a joke. There had been a moment, during that long, long first day of his accident, that she had honestly thought that she might never hear his voice again, let alone have him cracking a joke less than four hours after waking from a coma. It was more than she had ever dared to dream but she knew from experience that, when it came to her grandsons, nothing was impossible.

A noise near the door made them both glance over. The sight of Scott’s face pressed against the window greeted them.

“I guess I’m popular today.”

“Yeah, I guess you are,” Sally agreed. “I could do with stretching my legs, so I’ll let him in. He's  been waiting a long time.”

-x-

A steady stream of family trickled in one after the other to see their miracle sibling, but soon he was yawning, dropping off midconversation and when the nurses had their shift change the Tracys were ushered out and told to come back the next day.

Now he was sitting there, alone, unable to get up, unable to do anything to amuse himself, left alone with his thoughts. As was so often the way, he’d been tired and napping on and off while his family had been there, but the moment they had left he’d developed some kind of second wind energy rush and was now wide awake.

He tried closing his eyes and willing himself to sleep, he’d tried counting sky squids like his mother had told him to do as a child, he’d tried thinking about the most boring of Brains’ lectures, but nothing had worked.

Everytime he tried to focus on boring things or to clear his mind in order to relax, his brain insisted on replaying back the information that Grandma had given him. 

He wasn’t an idiot, he knew that he was lucky to even be alive after a wreck like he’d had. He’d forced John and Scott, against their better judgement, to tell him all they knew about the accident. He’d needed to know. He needed it to try to remember exactly what it was that had happened to him and how it had gone so wrong.

The lack of memories was disturbing, to know that something had gone wrong, horrendously wrong but to have no recollection of it, it was beyond frustrating. He had a body that was effectively broken, one that, according to his doctor, would take upwards of a year to fully heal from, if such a thing was even possible. He’d been warned, as had they all, that the likelihood of him having complications was all too real and that he had better prepare himself for it.

It wasn’t just the things that he had been told and the prospect of months of painful rehabilitation that was weighing heavily on his mind, it was the thing that no one had spoken of. It was the fact that he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that his career, the one that he had worked so hard to achieve, would be over.

Oh, he’d get an honourable discharge on medical grounds. But he'd be leaving in a whisper rather than the blaze of glory that his father and then his brother had done before him. He’d been on track for greatness, just as they had. He’d been the stand out star of his recruitment year, his olympic training and subsequent fitness levels and endurance had given him a fantastic platform from which to dive in with. He’d quickly risen up the ranks, making a name for himself as one of youngest but brightest in his class.

His desire to learn as well as his passion for marine biology and conservation had led to him taking a slightly different path to his fellow recruits. Many had passed on the offer, thinking it too boring but he had jumped at the chance to spend a year in command of his own bathescape studying underwater farming methods with a small but dedicated crew that had quickly become like family to him. 

Any emergency at that depth could have the potential to turn into a matter of life or death and, when one of their generators had malfunctioned, taking along with it half their air filtration works, putting strain on the remaining one, they had found themselves plunged into just such a situation.

He’d had to think fast and stay calm. They had pulled up the schematics and managed to bypass the fault on a temporary basis while waiting for a supply of spare parts to be delivered. He had led his team well, he had kept them from panicking and kept the mission on track. And, in doing so, saved the research grant budget the expense of failing and having to surface to try again the next year when the migration season started again.

His determination, dedication, resourcefulness and persistence had been noted, along with his ability to stay calm under pressure. It had gained him a promotion and fast tracked his offer to join the team on the experimental watercraft division, something he’d always dreamed of. 

Now it seemed that that dream had well and truly come back to bite him on the ass in the form of the hydrofoil that had apparently just wrecked all his hopes for the future in one fell swoop. What was the point of anything anymore?

A wave of hopelessness washed over him like a tidal wave, stealing his breath and the last of his control. The brave face he’d been holding on to all day while in the presence of his family faded away, giving way to heartbroken tears.

“Why?” he asked out loud to no one in particular, was he talking to God, to whatever guardian angel that had been by his side that day or to whatever sick twisted fate it was that had chosen him to pick on. “Why did you let me live?”

-x-

“It’s been a week and he’s barely made any progress,” Scott sighed to John as they walked the short distance to Gordon’s room in the recovery wing from the roof where they had been given permission to land. 

They were the ones on shift for today's stint of what they were all secretly calling ‘Squid Watch’. Now that he was out of immediate danger they had given up the hotel rooms they had occupied for the first two weeks and had begun commuting from the island for the designated visiting hours. They had learnt that the freedom to come and go as they pleased and to stay for long portions of the day had gone once Gordon had been moved from the ICU to the more cheerful surrounds of the high dependency ward.

“Still?” 

Scott nodded. “Nurse Donna told Virgil that he was barely eating, just enough to stave off the threat of another tube down his nose, he hasn’t even attempted any of the bed bound exercises he’s been given and he’s refusing to see the Physio to discuss his long term plans.”

“Stubborn brat,” John huffed.

“Well, he is a Tracy,” Scott shrugged, unable to do much else. “You know that nothing can make us do something we don’t want to.”

“Then we have to make him want to,” John replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yeah, right,” Scott scoffed. “We’ll just walk right on in as normal and say ‘Hey, Gordo, we know that your life as you knew it is basically over but hey, you’re still here. I mean, you can’t do anything you want to and you’re stuck in that bed for God knows how long but eat up your greens, there’s a good boy.’ That’ll go down real well.”

“Obviously we won’t say that,” John scowled, his tone telling Scott that he was being as much of an idiot as Gordon at that moment in time. “It’s obvious that he’s lost his drive, he’s feeling hopeless, which is perfectly understandable.”

“Yes,” Scott sighed, “it is.”

“So we need to give him something to bring him hope, something to work hard for.”

“You’d think the thought of walking again would be enough for him.”

“Would it be for you?” John asked quietly. “Think about it. If you had crashed one of those jets you tested, and you had ended up as hurt as he is, or worse, and you were looking down a long tunnel to an unknown future, one that very likely, won’t match up to the one you had mapped out in your head, would you have any desire to move towards it?”

Scott opened his mouth to answer, but closed it again without speaking. He wanted to say yes, of course he would, because any future was better than not having one. But he tried hard to never lie to himself or his family. 

“Probably not,” he admitted quietly. It was true, if he had crashed and was facing the prospect of never flying again, of never seeing the ground vanishing beneath him as he soared up through the clouds into a brilliant blue sky, he would find it hard to accept it and carry on.

“So we need to show him what he’s missing,” John continued. “I think we need to show him the Silverfin.”

Scott sucked in a breath, letting it out through pursed lips in a long whistle.

“That's risky.”

“I know.”

“It could seriously backfire, you know that, right?”

“I’m aware of that fact, yes.”

“Because if he sees it, if he listens to our plans and then ends up unable to join in as he’d want, that could make things even worse for him.”

“I know. But, as you just said, he’s a Tracy.”

“It could be the push he needs,” Scott conceded.

“It will be the push he needs,” John promised. “We know him, we know that he can do anything he puts his mind to.”

“He’s stronger than he thinks,” Scott agreed. “Stronger than any of us give him credit for. Look at how much he’s achieved in what, just over two years in WASP? He’s done more in his career than many could ever dream of let alone hope to achieve.”

“He has,” John started walking again and Scott had no choice but to follow along or get left behind. You didn’t argue with John when he was on a mission.

“You heard Grandma, this is the most crucial part of his recovery,”John continued, assuming correctly that Scott would keep up with him. “The first steps. This is make or break time. His injuries are severe, yes, but not hopeless, not by a long shot. People have recovered from worse, he just needs to push himself to do it. It doesn’t matter how well they put him back together if he doesn’t work on holding it all in place.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I usually am,” John shrugged, no hint of boasting in his tone, just John saying the facts as he saw them.

“Yeah, right,” Scott laughed, because he was his brother and everyone knew that you didn’t ever admit to your younger siblings being right more than once in a week if you could help it. “We’re really going to do this?”

“I don’t see that we have a choice.”

Gordon was lying down in bed when they walked in, not too unexpected given the circumstances, it wasn’t like they had been expecting to see him doing much at all, but they had hoped he’d at least be sitting up since the doctor’s had cleared him for gentle movements.

“Hey, Squid boy,” Scott greeted as cheerfully as he could. “How you doing today?”

“Oh, I’m just peachy, I took a little trip to the beach, caught some waves and then I decided I needed a nap,” Gordon drawled sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “What are you two doing here, anyway?”

“We told you we’d be coming,” John answered, picking up the tablet from its holder at the end of Gordon’s bed to study it.

“And I told you not to brother, it’s not like I’m the most entertaining company at the moment and I don’t feel like having visitors,” Gordon closed his eyes again, intending on ignoring them until they went away.

“Have you eaten much today?” Scott asked, ignoring his brother’s blatant dismissal of them.

“Yes.”

“It says here you refused breakfast, you only had a yogurt for lunch and didn’t complete your order form for your evening meal,” John told him, while busily flicking through the notes.

“Hey!” Gordon opened his eyes again to glare at his brother. “Do you mind? That’s my private medical records, it’s none of your business.”

“Of course it is.” John finished his reading and returned the tablet to its rightful spot.

“Gordo, you have to eat,” Scott sighed, sinking into one of the visitor's chairs that sat beside the bed. “How can you expect to get your strength back if you aren’t fueling your body properly?”

“It’s not like I could do anything with the strength if I had it,” Gordon growled out. “I’m stuck in this bed for the foreseeable future. So tell me, oh great and powerful, Scott, just what do I need to do anything for?”

John glanced at Scott, who nodded, answering the unspoken question. Time to enact their plan. He shrugged off his backpack and opened it, pulling out his tablet. With a few quick swipes he found what he was looking for and held it up for Gordon to see.

“What’s that?”

“Our secret project,” Scott told him.

“I can’t see it from there, bring it closer.”

“No,” John stayed right where he was at the foot of the bed. “Sit up and look for yourself.”

Gordon huffed and stubbornly stayed horizontal, but his eyes kept straying to the tablet. He could barely see it, but what he could see looked vaguely familiar. Curiosity and just a touch of boredom won out.

He fumbled with the bed controls, located the remote and pushed the button to lift the head of the bed until he was brought to a sitting position.

“There, happy? Now let me see it.”

John moved closer and offered the tablet.

Gordon automatically reached out for it with his left hand, forgetting that it was encased in an air cast due to the fractured wrist. Growling in frustration he tried again with the right and took the tablet. Unable to hold it with only one hand he lifted his ‘good’ leg which, although unbroken, was covered in bruising, none of which made it an easy task but eventually he was able to prop the tablet against his thigh and scroll with his right hand.

His eyes widened as he took in the images displayed there.

“This is a Silverfin, isn't it?”

“Yep,” Scott grinned.

“But WASP didn’t continue the development, they deemed them too small and slow to be of any use and decided to focus on the Stingray.”

“We know, but Brains saw the potential in her that they didn’t. She might not have been of any use for patrolling the seas but for moving around them like we’d need, she’d be perfect.”

“He’s adapting her?” Gordon’s eyes scanned the pictures, the first one showing the Silverfin in her original form, half completed and scrapped, the funding and enthusiasm for her having dried up. The second showed her to clearly be in some kind of dry dock that was being used as a workshop. She’d been stripped back to little more than a shell, some engine parts and a turbine or two. The third and last pictures showed what looked to be new panels being test fitted and an adapted nose cone. Instead of the elongated nose she’d had originally there sat the cutest little snub nose he’d ever seen, reminding him of an upturned pigs snout.

"With Virgil's help, yes," John said. 

"Why? Has he decided to branch out into contract work now that the work on the space station is almost complete?" 

"Nope," John answered. 

“Then what's this for?” he couldn’t help but ask, his eyes feasting on every little detail he could see. She was barely anything at the moment, but damn she could be beautiful if she was given the love and attention she had always deserved.

“For you,” Scott said quietly. John had been right, the way that Gordon had gone from apathy to interest in a matter of seconds was proof of that.

“Me?” Gordon scoffed. Even though his brother's tone had been completely serious he still couldn't believe it wasn't some kind of sick joke. “You’d need a pretty big bathtub to float her in, because that's the only kind of boat I’ll ever be around again.”

“With that attitude it will,” John said mildly, taking the second seat next to Scott. 

“So do something about it,” Scott pushed. “Look at her, just look.” He stabbed a finger at the screen. “That there will be the next in our fleet, and she’ll need a pilot.”

“Me? You seriously think I’d ever be able to do anything like that, while I’m like this? You’re crazy.” Gordon pushed the tablet away, not wanting to look at it any more. That was the unobtainable right there. That was yet another reminder of what could have been but never would.

“No, not while you’re like that,” Scott sighed, sounding defeated even to his own ears. 

“So do something about it,” John said curtly. “It’s your choice, we're just hoping you make the right one.” Without saying anything else he took the tablet and placed it on the bedside table. “Come on, Scott, let’s go and get a coffee before we head home.”

Scott looked from Gordon to John, taking in the frustration and sadness on one and then the calm dismissive demeanor of the other as John turned to the door.

"I told you it wasn't worth you coming," Gordon sneered, lowering the bed again. 

"You're always worth it," Scott promised him before following John out the door. 

The fast food restaurant just offsite wasn't the best and the coffee was far below their usual standards but it was welcome after the day they had had. 

Scott and Virgil had been called out early in the morning and their relatively simple rescue had turned out to be far more complicated than they had anticipated. When they had returned they were tired, filthy and aching all over. Scott had come straight from the shower, leaving Kayo on call with Virgil, and he and John had left for the hospital. 

Now their attempts at motivating their little brother had fallen flatter than one of Grandma's cakes and they were both feeling like they had done more harm than good. 

"Did we just screw up?" Scott asked quietly, playing with the rim of his cup but not making any move to drink from it. 

"Possibly," John sighed, sipping his own drink and making a face at the taste. "Only time will tell. We've done our best, it's up to him now. He's the only one that can decide if he's going to fight or give up entirely."

They lapsed into silence, both lost in their own thoughts. It had been so hard the first time they had walked in to see Gordon after his first life saving operation. His face had been a puffy, bruised mess from his broken nose and fractured eye socket, his eyes almost swollen shut.

He'd had a bandage around his head where they had shaved off some of his hair to examine his skull fracture and close the wound there. Both of his arms and one of his legs  in air casts to keep them stable until the next day and his torso a mass of bandages and blood tinged gauze from a combination of lacerations and the two operation sites from fixing his spleen and liver. 

He'd looked so small, not in stature maybe, but in energy, his aura if you will. So still and so quiet, something that Gordon only ever was when he was asleep, and that didn't happen very often with his tendency of mumbling in his sleep and turning a full rotation of the bed in a single night.

Then he had been silent, the only sound was the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the whoosh, hiss of the machine that was providing him with oxygen and regulating his breathing as he slept the deep sleep of the heavily sedated. 

Over the next few days they had sat in the relatives room and prayed every time his tired body had undergone yet another operation, the surgeons doing all they could to fix his body for him. 

Now they were hoping and praying that his mind could be fixed too. 

"What was that?" Scott said when a beep broke the quiet, clearly looking for a distraction. 

"My phone," John answered, pulling it out to check it. 

"Who is it?" Scott asked, seeing the confused expression on his brother's face. 

"I apparently sent myself an email."

"Huh?"

The confusion quickly morphed into a wide smile as John's eyes scanned the words. 

"It was sent from my tablet."

"And?"

"It reads 'Bring me up a burger and fries when you've finished your coffees, then you can tell me more about this Silverfin."

-x-

The walk down to the hangars had never seemed to take as long as it was now. He knew it was down there, but he’d been banned from seeing anything of it since those first four pictures. It was supposed to be a surprise. 

He’d tried to sneak in numerous times, he’d tried to hack into the files, he’d tried bribery, guilt tripping and sulking but nothing had worked. 

He couldn't say that he minded, not really, because he knew it was there. He'd known that somewhere deep below their villa, in the center of their island, his baby had been taking shape. He’d not been allowed any input in the shape, the visuals or anything else to do with her design, but her functions, that he’d been allowed to have a say in. 

Brains had spent countless hours on video calls with him, discussing everything that Gordon insisted his craft needed, from her dry tubes to her mechanical arms, the type of sonar she was using to the consoles and onboard technology. And he just knew she would be spectacular. WASP might have their Stingray, but he’d have his little Thunderbird, now dubbed Thunderbird Four after John’s space station had been upgraded and become a fully fledged craft itself, going from a stationary satellite to a fully maneuverable ship.

Sometimes the thought of his girl taking shape, waiting for him, had been the only thing keeping him going through his painful, exhausting and sometimes seemingly hopeless recovery process. 

It hadn’t been easy, on either his mind or his body and he wasn't ashamed to admit that, for a significant portion of that time, he had been the worst patient ever. Once the initial excitement of the Silverfin development had worn off and he had been staring down the long tunnel of recovery to his still quite uncertain future, he'd had times where he hadn’t been sure that it was possible to regain even half of his previous physicality, let alone get back to the full strength that would be needed to be of any use to International Rescue.

He didn’t want to be a dead weight to his family, he didn’t want them to be picking up the slack of his inadequacies, to spend more of their time rescuing his ass than the people they were trying to help.

Depression wasn’t something he had ever considered as a possibility in his life. He was the upbeat one, the one that kept the spirits up of those around him, so to not even be able to rise a smile for himself…let’s just say that there had been some very dark moments over his long months of recovery where he had not recognised himself and hadn’t been sure that there would ever be a time when he felt happy again.

He’d wanted to give up, he’d been so close to it so many times, yet somewhere, buried deep inside, covered in dust and rust, nestled a tiny nugget of steely determination. He’d found that nugget and chipped away at its bonds, had polished it and nurtured it as best he could until finally he had succeeded.

His recovery list had been almost as extensive as his injuries. He’d undergone all the common therapies such as targeted physiotherapy, smaller follow on surgeries, several aborted attempts at hydrotherapy and a rather surprising foray into hippotherapy, along with daily strengthening exercises. 

But all of that had been just about bearable, physical pain and endurance was almost second nature to him, it was the mental side that had been the hardest to push past. Slowly, slowly, day by day he had become physically stronger while growing mentally weaker.

The more his body healed, the longer he was out of hospital, the more of his memories he'd regained, and with them came the darkness. Counselling had been arranged, PTSD had been diagnosed and he’d faced yet another uphill battle to rediscover the person he truly was.

He sighed, stopping for a moment to rest before he entered the hangar itself. Could he honestly say that he felt like himself again? The answer was no. No one could go through the trauma that he had suffered and not change in some way or another. No one could face death head on, shake it by the hand, politely decline its invitation and still be one hundred present themselves.

You need to find your new normal, you need to find yourself again. That had been the words that his third therapist had told him. Joel had been the only therapist he had clicked with, the only one that truly seemed to understand him and the way his brain worked, that or he was the only one to have bothered trying.

Finding your new normal, giving yourself permission to change, adapt and accept that something horrific had happened to you and that you would come out the other side a different person to the one that had gone in, that was to be expected. Joel had helped him see that, along with his family, friends and the medical staff that had supported him on his long, winding journey.

He’d gotten a little lost along the way a time or two, he’d back tracked, stopped to rest and had to drag himself back to his feet more times that he could count. But he’d done it. He hadn’t given up no matter how many times he had wanted to, no matter how many times he had been tempted to just roll over and let life continue to screw him over.

This was it, the moment of truth, the moment where he would sink or swim, the moment where he would decide once and for all if all his hard work had been worth it.

He took a deep breath and rounded the corner, leaving the shelter and protection of the tunnel corridor behind him, stepping into the hangars for the first time since he’d left the island 18 months ago, after his annual leave, preparing to return to WASP. 18 months that could be broken down into two months in the testing division, four months in hospital and twelve gruelling months of recovery. All leading up to this moment.

He walked in, Alan, Scott and John moving in formation to flank him, solid and dependable, as they had always been. They continued the distance as one, a close knit group that he knew would always have his back. The only one missing was Virgil.

“You ready, little bro?” on cue the booming bass of his brother’s voice came over the external speakers of Two to fill the hangar.

Knowing Virgil wouldn’t be able to hear him he settled for a double thumbs up. He was practically vibrating with anticipation, having to fight the urge to bounce up and down in excitement. 

He heard the mechanical whirring as Two began her assent, lifting up on her support struts to reveal the door to the module, one that was painted with a big, white number Four. Slowly, almost as if it were happening in slow motion, the door lowered, creating the ramp way that the pod vehicles would descend. 

His breath caught in his throat as the inside lights of the module turned on, revealing its contents. 

“It’s...she’s....so yellow,” he stuttered, unable to think of anything else to say. There she was, his little bird, painted a bright, cheery yellow, her fin sticking bolt upright like a happy tail. The same little snub nose that had so enchanted him was now fitted out with high powered lights that would allow him to see in the darkest of depths. She was bright, she was gorgeous, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She was…

“Perfect,” he breathed. 

He couldn’t look away, not to take in the happy and somewhat relieved smiles on his siblings faces, not to look at Brains who seemed to have magically materialised by his side to start giving him a technical rundown, not for anything. 

Nothing could compare to this. 

“So, was she worth it?” Scott asked as Gordon reached out to lovingly stroke the curved perfection of one engine.

Gordon nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The past year might have been the worst of his life, he knew that he would carry those memories with him forever, that he would continue to dream of waking up in that hospital bed again. He knew that things would never be the same for him, he was forever changed but, out of the darkness of his worst memories there was his little sub of hope.

“This is the best day of my life,” he sighed to himself as he settled in her seat, feeling the way it seemed to mould to his body with his exact specifications. This feeling right here, this made it all worth it. And he knew that one day in the not too distant future someone out there would see a flash of bright yellow in the darkness and know that same feeling of hope. They would know that help was on the way. 

Because that's what International Rescue did, they defied the odds, they did the impossible and they never gave up.

[hedwigstalons]

Pool Toys

Another offering for #irrelief.  This is for @gumnut-logic who wanted something about pool toys.  

xoxoxox

“Grandma is not going to be pleased if you leave that junk all over the deck.  I hope you’re going to clean up that mess when you are done.”

“It’s not junk” Gordon surveyed the bricks, dive sticks, hoops and floats scattered round him, “I’m looking over the bits for my training session.”

John groaned.  “I thought I’d escaped this time.”  

The grin he received in return did nothing to lift his mood. It made sense that they each underwent training in the others’ specialisms but he was about as fond of water training as Gordon was of keeping up his space rating.  Each viewed the habitual environment of the other as a necessary evil.  He quite enjoyed swimming for relaxation, a chance to free himself from some of the effects of gravity, but on duty give him space any day. 

If John had paid better attention to the calendar he would have realised that his current Earthside rotation was likely to include a session with the Squid.  Sometimes that meant a dive in the caldera with the scuba kit, sometimes it meant being taken out into open water in Thunderbird Four and sometimes it was a gruelling session working on the core swimming and diving techniques.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fun.  We’re sticking to the pool so no wetsuits required.  Now go dig out your shorts and slap on the sunscreen, it’s time to get wet.”

John wasn’t quite sure he believed the assertion that it would be fun but it did at least look like they would be having a less than serious session.  He didn’t doubt that Gordon would work him hard though.  You never knew when you might be required to take a dip on a rescue and their resident aquanaut was a firm believer in keeping their swimming skills up to scratch.

Half an hour later all five brothers were gathered pool-side, wondering what fate awaited them.  John wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not that this had turned into a group session.  You never could tell with Gordon.  

The pool itself resembled an underwater obstacle course.  Hoops were suspended in the water at different heights tethered between weights and floats to keep them in place while objects littered the pool floor.  The aquanaut had evidently been busy.

If you could count on Gordon for one thing it was that he would only push you as hard as he pushed himself.  Unfortunately for his siblings, when it came to anything water based Gordon would push himself very hard indeed.

With a running jump that turned into a perfectly executed dive the aquanaut proceeded to show them just what was required for the first test.  He slipped through the course of hoops without touching them in one single lung-bursting breath, only resurfacing when he reached the far end of the pool.

He grinned at the assembled ranks in the same way a shark might grin at its prey and any last shred of hope that the session would be easy melted away.  

The brothers lined up to take their turn.  Might as well get it over with.  One by one they made their attempts to navigate the course under the watchful eye of Gordon.  None of them reached the end and more than one ring was knocked along the way but there were some valiant attempts and more than a little rivalry. 

Challenge after challenge was thrown at them, each designed to test a different water skill.  Some required teamwork such as lifting a large object from the bottom of the pool; others like casualty towing allowed Gordon to assess their individual skills.

By the end of the session the brothers were panting and gasping.  Lungs had been tested and lactic acid was building up.  It was with some relief that Gordon announced that all that was left was to clear all the remaining kit out of the pool and put it back in the box.  The poolside was soon littered with the collected equipment and Alan dragged out the crate from its locker to save carting all the pieces back individually.

As the crate was removed some brightly coloured bits of rubber were revealed that had evidently fallen down the back.

“Hey, I forgot we had these” Alan crawled into the back of the locker to pull out the shapes. 

“What have you found, Al?”

“The inflatables we got for Gordon’s pool party the first year we moved here.”

“I thought those were long gone.  Are they still ok?”

“Seem to be.”  He found a valve, brushed the dust off, and gave it an experimental blow.  The shape began to expand and take on the form of a dolphin, albeit a bright purple one.  “Whose was this? Virgil?”

“Nope, that was mine.  Virgil had a penguin” said Gordon, claiming the dolphin and giving it an affectionate pat.  “That was a birthday to remember.  I was so excited that we had our own pool and that I could use it year round.”

Scott grabbed one of the shapes.  “Palm tree was yours wasn’t it John?”  The inflatable was tossed across to the answering nod and John started blowing it up.

“This one was mine” said Alan, claiming the octopus “and I’m sure this last one is a seahorse.”

“Seahorse was mine.  You sure that’s it?”

“Positive”

“So where did the penguin go?  All the others made it back into the cupboard, why not Virg’s?  We could have had a rerun of the races”

The engineer shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of his eldest brother.  He had got rather attached to his inflatable and hadn’t wanted to consign it to the cupboard after the party.

“Virgil?”

“Fernando lives in my room.”

“Fernando” snorted Scott.  “What sort of name is that for a penguin?”

“Surely a better question is why did he name it at all?  I mean, it’s a pool toy?”

“Don’t you listen to the nasty man, Gloria”  Gordon stroked his dolphin.  “Just because he has a silly old tree rather than a nice, sensible animal.  Come on Virg, go dig out Fernando”

Virgil shrugged and headed into the villa to retrieve his inflatable.  How the others had missed that he had a 4 foot penguin living in the corner of his room was beyond him.  It wasn’t exactly an item you could easily hide.  Maybe they had just got blind to the fact it was there, like a piece of furniture you no longer really see because it is so familiar.

As he headed back through the villa, penguin under one arm, he could hear the shrieks long before the pool came back into sight.  It sounded as though the finding of the inflatables had given his brothers their second wind.

Sure enough the races had already begun.  Each brother was valiantly trying to stay atop their float while using a pool noodle as a paddle.  Progress was slow and erratic with a competitor frequently being pitched off their steed or toppling sideways into the water, often in response to a jab from an opposing noodle.  Even John, normally the most reserved of the group, was in the thick of it.

Virgil dragged a couple of loungers into a shady spot, put the penguin on one and stretched himself out on the other.  A spare set of sunglasses was retrieved from the waistband of his shorts.

“There you go Fernando, can’t have you damaging your eyes.” 

After giving the penguin one final affectionate pat he settled down to watch the unfolding drama in the pool, plus of course film if for future blackmail purposes.

[motleymoose]

Homecoming Pt. 3: Bits & Pieces Ch. 1

Chapter 1 Ashes in a Vacuum

Fandom: The Mandalorian, Star Wars Characters: The Mandalorain (Din Djarin), Gender Neutral Reader, The Child Words: 2.5k+ Warnings: Injury, Angst, A whole lotta attitude

Summary:

I AM ALL SORTS OF ANGRY AT THAT FRAGGING BUCKETHEAD!!! He's leaving me with more questions than I have the ability to ask, and I don't like it one bit.

But dang, that little greenie is cute!

Notes:

Heya! Thank y'all for reading!!! I'm not sure how many chapters this part is gonna have, so??? We're coming up on the halfway point of the story. Maybe my editing skills will improve by then (ha).

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Homecoming Masterlist

The way everything hurt, I was sure I was dying.

Squinting at the dim, fuzzy gray light of my bunk, I ran an internal diagnostics check. With every little wiggle and flex of an appendage, I gradually realized that I was not, in fact, dying, but I wasn’t in prime fighting shape either. Slowly, gingerly, I scrubbed sleep from my burning eyes with the heels of my palms, my vision spotty and fuzzy in places. It felt good to let them linger, pressing heavily into the closed eyelids and relieving the pressure built up behind my eyeballs. As killer headaches went, the one I was experiencing in that moment wasn’t the worst I’d ever had, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like doshing kung.

Now that I was sorta awake, I took physical stock of my body. My eyes still wouldn’t clear, the large flecks of gray shadow swimming lazily in my periphery, so I used touch to see what was going on. Letting my hands do the work, I started with my head, running my fingers lightly down my neck to my shoulders and chest. Something felt off about the shape of my body as I continued to scan downwards to my hips. Foggy memories swirled inside my head, screaming and pain and choking smoke. A jumbled mess of noise and smells overpowered everything else, and the bits and pieces of the fight and flight from Bosph scattered nervously into the darker recesses of my brain.

Frustrated, I sat up, ignoring the sharp tug at the pit of my elbow and the violent, painful thumping rattling my brain. “Fragging buckethead,” I hissed through clenched teeth. He had got me in this mess. Sure, it was my fault for getting a bounty put on me, but if only he’d listened to me in the first place, we coulda avoided Bosph entirely. The anger, bitter and sparkling and pulsing red, numbed the headache and the bruises slightly. And as the ire rose, so too did the functionality of my brain.

I could focus now on what my hands had been trying to tell me: all of my possessions, from my boots to my jumpsuit and everything in between or tucked into pockets, was gone. A worn coarseweave tunic hung from my curved shoulders, the sleeves neatly rolled up around my biceps, and a newer looking pair of long johns, the baggy legs bunched around my knees, had replaced my utilitarian and well-loved apparel.

Oh Mother of Kwath! Had the Mandalorian undressed me?! I mean, I was an adult. He was an adult. And apparently I had been injured enough to warrant such an invasion of privacy. Still, I couldn’t fight the blush burning brightly across my chest and face.

So doshing uncomfortable.

Nope, nope, nope. Didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Pushing down all of the humiliation and trauma and apprehension until the feelings were little more than an annoying itch under my skin, I allowed the rage to take over a little more. It was easier to be angry than to feel anything else, the outrage a warming presence in my chilly body. It also gave me the little boost of courage for what I had to do next.

Screwing my eyes shut, incredibly unprepared for the worst possible outcome, I touched the place under my collarbone where my silver skull pendant rested, a solid, reassuring weight...

Nothing.

Instead of skin-warmed metal, I was met with warm, padded resistance. Peering into the neck of the tunic, I found a thick, dull-colored wrap encasing my midsection from under my armpits to my hip bones. It smelled of the sea on a warm summer’s day, and I wrinkled my nose automatically. Bacta. Whatever injury I had sustained must’ve been bad enough to call for the precious, oftentimes expensive goo. The wrap wasn’t so tight as to constrict breathing or some movements, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either.

The physical uncomfortableness brought me back to the question of why the bounty hunter was keeping me alive, but just like all the other feelings, I ignored it. I needed to find my clothes, my necklace. Get dressed. Leave this beautiful ship and her tyrant pilot behind and become a krill farmer out on the Outer Rim.

Well, probably not a farmer. A droid mech, perhaps.

The soft skin on the inside of my elbow twinged again, pulling me out of my daydreams as I reached for the blanket covering the lower half of my body. A thin, clear tube snaked from a needle inserted into a vein to a nearly-empty pouch hanging from a hook in the bunk wall. Fumbling, my fingernails worked their way underneath the sticky medical tape, peeling up an edge wide enough to pinch. I ripped the tape from my arm, gritting as it pulled hair and skin with it. Once the tape was gone, I slid the needle out of my arm with a hiss, tossing it aside to leak between the cot and the bunk wall. Whatever cocktail of drugs the bounty hunter had mixed into the IV, he’d probably added a good dose of sedative to keep me down for the count. That would’ve explained the fogginess.

And it made me so mad.

I let the full-blown, all-consuming fury in, jerking the coarseweave blanket off of me and freeing my legs. Exhaling forcefully, I tested my injured knee, poking at the matching bacta bandage. The original searing-white agony I had experienced on Bosph was muted now, less of a screaming torment and more of a dull throbbing. Healed enough to put weight on. Hopefully

Groaning and cursing at stiff muscles and bucketheaded hunters respectively, I wriggled on the bed until my bare feet skimmed the floor. The cold steel of the hull platform sent shivers through my flesh, feeding the annoyance and anger and frustration. I inhaled, steadying myself for the shooting pain sure to follow standing on both legs. Pleasantly astonished as I was that it didn’t hurt too horribly, I wasn’t prepared for the lightheadedness. The blood rushed from my face, my vision blackening around the edges.

“Oh frag,” I managed to croak before slumping to the floor in an unconscious heap. --------------- I awoke, some time later, inside my bunk. The coarseweave blanket was tucked firmly beneath my chin, the IV reinserted into my arm, and my red-hot rage completely dissipated. An imposing, blurry figure stood at the foot of the bunk, and I took my time adjusting myself from lying flat to reclining, eyes tightly shut to avoid the spinning shadows. Once I was comfortable, I cracked an eyelid. The Mandalorian’s blurred steely stare greeted me, a clear bag of liquid over one arm and a sling supporting the other.

“You’re awake,” he stated matter of factly.

“D-Didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of travelling in silence,” I replied dryly, voice husky with disuse. “By the way, where’s my jumpsuit?” I opened my eyes all the way, blinking rapidly to dispel the fog coating them. It didn’t work.

The bounty hunter harrumphed softly. “Incinerated. You had a fractured knee, two broken ribs and a blaster wound to the stomach. Plus severe retinal damage and dehydration. You’re lucky you even made it off-planet.” He angled his visor away from me to tap out something on his vembrace.

“Wait, what?”

He tilted his visor towards me and put it simply. “You almost died.”

I feebly waved the non-IVed hand in front of my face. “No, not that. Did you say you incinerated all of my stuff?!”

Ignoring me, per his style, he continued to tap on his vembrace’s control panel.

Devastated, depressed and not a little bit murderous, I glowered squintily at him. I was reeling inwardly, but on the outside I was colder than carbonite.

As he ignored me, I studied him as closely as my recovering vision would allow. I could tell there was something different in his appearance, but it took a moment for me to recognize what it was . A softer quality to his edges that I couldn’t quite understand, his body looking less defined, less bulky than normal. I blinked several times to refocus, and was rewarded with infinitesimally better vision.

“Where’s your armor, shabuir?” I sniped. I may have been more than a little miffed that all of my worldly possessions were now ash and lumps of twisted metal, and biting at a Mandalorian was a temporarily soothing balm to my aching heart.

The hunter reached over me and unhooked the empty bacta IV bag from a rod above my head, replacing it with the one he’d brought. Adjusting the solution valve, he tapped the drip chamber twice before turning his attention back to me. “There’s a spare jumpsuit in the ‘fresher. Keep the bacta wrap on for another hour, at least.” As an afterthought, he added, “We’ll be on Nevarro in a few days.” A frown tainted his voice. “Stay out of my way ‘til then.” Spinning on his heel, he marched to the ladder and disappeared onto the upper deck.

………

It took about twelve hours for me to feel well enough to rid myself of the IV and bacta wraps and get out of the bunk without having the ship buck underneath me like a wild bluurg. I took that time to cry myself to sleep, wake up and cry some more. The loss of my tools and kit was a huge blow to my self-worth, but the loss of the pendant, well. It was the only piece I had left of a life full of fear and hunger and love; it connected me to home. If I didn’t have that, where did I belong?

It took another three hours for me to get up the nerve to get cleaned and dressed. I prowled around the cargo hold, poking and prodding at the carbonite storage, the control panels and the refresher. There hadn’t been much of a chance on my earlier voyages to explore, so with the Mandalorian occupied guiding the ship through hyperspace, I felt emboldened to figure out more about him. Not that there was much to glean from my investigation; the hold contained only the basics of survival for deep space travel, and weapons. Lots of weapons.

Oh, and several beings in what looked to be forced-stasis, frozen in carbonite.

Shivering in sympathy for my hold companions, I turned and shuffled back to the bunk. What I really had hoped to find was the incinerator - most ships kept them below near the back for easy dispatch of trash - but I hadn’t found hide nor hair of one below deck. It could’ve been located above. Not exactly the safest or most pleasant location, yet with all the fire power and carbonite in the hold, it kinda made sense. No need to put three dangerous elements all in one place, if you had the room.

A little voice at the back of my head reminded me of something else: that fragging Mando had all but ordered me to stay put. If he thought for one second that I was going to listen to him, he had another thing coming. I held no ill-will against Mandalorians in general, but this one was getting on my bad side. First arresting me and then almost getting me killed and then destroying the only thing I had left of home reminded me that I only had myself to rely on, that everyone else was out to either disappoint me or kill me.

I’d be doshed if I was going to let that buckethead dictate what I could and couldn’t do, especially since he was the one who took me off that Maker-forsaken moon in the first place.

Especially since he handed me over to Mihcas without an apology.

And took my pendant and tools to boot.

Ascending the ladder turned out to be a formidable feat in my weakened condition, but I prevailed. It took more effort than it should have, and I collapsed onto the cool steel platform once I made it all the way up.

“What are you doing?” The modulated baritone came from my right. Swiveling my head, I watched as the bounty hunter stomped out of the captain’s quarters, a bundle of clothes clutched to his chest and fingers unsurprisingly reaching for his blaster. Whatever was in the bundle must have been precious, for he shifted it away from me to his injured arm. It obviously still hurt; he held the bundle in the crook of his elbow, awkwardly bent and trembling with effort.

Good.

Rage flared in my chest, licking its way up like flames and leaving a red mask pounding behind my eyes. Pushing the anger away, I clambered up to my feet. I was going to get answers, and I’d be fragged if I was going to show emotion in front of him.

“Where’s the incinerator?” I spat savagely. So much for not showing any emotion.

Obviously taken aback by my vehemence and bluntness, he cocked his helmet and pulled his hand from his blaster, resting it casually on his belt buckle. “Why?”

Simple enough question, simple enough answer. But I didn’t feel like answering him. Opening my mouth to respond, a cooing sound interrupted me. It sounded like it was coming from the bundle still shielded in his injured arm.

Snapping my jaw shut with a painfully audible click, I raised my eyebrows pointedly at him. “Trafficking something illegal there, chakaar?” Anxiety clenched my stomach in its viselike grip, and I had to force the bile from rising in my throat. I was still weak from Bosph, but if he was buying and selling living beings to make a living, he was no better than my ex-boss. No better than me. Which meant I was going to have to hurt him or die trying.

A sharp hiss of an inhale through the vocoder told me I’d hit on something. Something he didn’t want me knowing. A whispery stream of very impolite Mando’a floated in the space between us. The air was thick with tension, and both of us were patiently waiting for the other to make the next move.

The coo came again, slightly muffled, followed by a bubbly giggle, startling us out of our stare-down. The bundle wriggled, and the Mandalorian shifted his attention from me to it as the thing became too much to handle with one injured arm. Grunting either out of pain or frustration, the bounty hunter stepped backwards until he was in the doorway of the bunk. Squeaking and chittering indignantly, the lump in the clothes broke free with a victorious huff.

And it was the cutest fragging thing I’d ever laid my eyes on.

_____________________

Notes:

chakaar - corpse robber, thief, petty criminal - general term of abuse shabuir - extreme insult - *jerk*, but much stronger

[clarendonpd]

WINTER STORM WARNING

Categorical Risk: Elevated 

Clarendon Hills – Sunday, November 29th

Advice for the community

The weekend has seen an increased risk of strong winds today, Sunday November 29th, bringing blowing snow, freezing rain, ice and sleet. The community is advised to prepare for severe weather and possible power cuts.

Stay informed and take measures to prepare. Read the information provided by Clarendon Hills Police Department below to learn what you can do.

BEFORE:

Keep your devices charged. Have a portable charger at hand. If you do not own a portable charger, close apps and reduce your screen brightness to preserve battery

Make sure you have sufficient heating fuel as regular fuel sources may be cut off

Keep pipes from freezing by wrapping pipes in insulation or layers of old newspapers, covering the newspapers with plastic to keep out moisture, and letting faucets drip a little to avoid freezing - know how to shut off water valves

Have disaster supplies on hand, in case the power goes out. Include a flashlight and extra batteries; portable, battery-operated radio and extra batteries; a first aid kit; a supply of food (include items that do not require refrigeration or cooking such as dried fruits, nuts and granola bars in case the power is shut off); a manual can opener; supply of essential prescription medications; extra blankets and sleeping bags.

DURING: 

Thousands of people are injured or killed each year in traffic accidents related to slippery roads and sudden restrictions in visibility. TAKE IT SLOW IN THE SNOW. Black Ice can be hard to see.

Stay indoors and keep warm. Wear loose layers. Make sure clothes are dry

Listen to radio or television to have the latest information

Avoid travel and driving, unless absolutely necessary. Check road conditions. Let someone know where you are going and when you should expect to arrive at your destination

Protect your lungs from extremely cold air by covering your mouth when outdoors

Open kitchen and bathroom cabinet doors to allow warmer air to circulate around the plumbing

Know and watch for signs of hypothermia, dehydration and frostbite. 

HOW TO STAY WARM IF YOUR POWER IS CUT

Close blinds and curtains to preserve heat. Use towels or blankets to block drafts coming in from window and door cracks. 

Close off unused rooms to avoid wasting heat. 

Eat and drink. Food provides energy to keep the body warm

Stay calm. Assure children and put extra clothes on them. Wrap pets in blankets

AFTER:

Continue to protect yourself from hypothermia and frostbite by wearing warm, layered clothing

Help your neighbours who may need special assistance – infants, the elderly and people with disabilities. Check up on them

Stay informed 

Stay safe,

Clarendon Hills Police Department

[copper-coin-writing]

A close shave

Hello everyone!  I’m back again with another excerpt from Apocalypse FM, my project for this month.  This time, we have three of the gang scavenging for supplies in an abandoned house, when things start to go wrong...

Halim went for the kitchen, while Zuri took the stairs all the way up.  He assumed Liam would take the second storey.  The fridge was unpowered, as he’d anticipated, but when he twisted the knob on the stovetop, he heard the telltale hiss he was listening for.  Gas.  They still had gas.

It had taken the expertise, or lack thereof, of all four of them to devise a solution to the gas problem.  Their burners needed it, and they hadn’t enough.  Halim had collected empty cannisters, Liam crafting a transfer valve along with Zuri.  Lara had had the balloon idea.

It hadn’t been a normal balloon, of course.  That sort of thing wouldn’t have stretched nearly wide enough.  But there had been a toy store by the docks…

The end result was a collection of enormous balloons, quite capable of both having a neck the size of the pump nozzle as well as stretching over a gas ring.  From there it was a matter of attaching the nozzle to the cannister, tying a few elastic bands around the balloon mouth, and turning the gas up to full.  Halim crouched down to wait.  It was not a quick process.

Upstairs, Liam rummaged through yet another chest of draws full of gently mouldering clothes.  Those that hadn’t been munched on by moths, that was.  They didn’t seem to discriminate.  He held one up, checking it for size.  Shaking his head, he replaced it, dug beneath it.

His fingers closed on plastic and he lifted out what he’d found.  It was a battery pack.  The wires led off it, down the side of the draws and along the edge of the wall.  In the accumulated dust and debris he doubted he would have spotted them.

Tracing the wires with his fingers along the wall, he walked back towards the door he’d come in through.  Round the corner, down the stairs.  It stopped midway down, burrowing under the carpet.  Pulling his multitool from his pocket, he cut back the carpet.  He swore.

The attic had no hole through to the roof, somehow.  Zuri soon created one.  The roof was not designed to prevent a determined girl with a broken bedpost from breaking out.  It was designed for rain, not sieges.

She broke low down, on the theory that the solar panels would be higher up, as the wires seemed to indicate.  Those wires showed promise, as did the converter and battery, which she’d already taken wirecutters to.  Her backpack was heavy already.  If they worked, getting the panels back to base was going to be a challenge.

She climbed out carefully, testing the roof’s strength with a questing foot.  It held up to the pressure she hesitantly applied, so she put her weight on it.  It held.  She climbed out.

On inspection, the panels were even better than she might have hoped.  They looked like they might have been new not a few months before the end, and still seemed in good condition.  Surprising, honestly.  Digging in her backpack for her wrench, she got to work releasing them from their holdings.  She’d pulled two back through the attic hole when she heard frantic footfalls on the stairs.  Liam dashed in, some sort of electronic clutched in a clenched fist.  His normally pale face was red, his breathing rapid.

“What does this do, Zuri?  What is it?”

There was a desperate tone to his voice she didn’t like.  She took it, inspected it.

“A radio transmitter, a small one.  And a circuit board, and I presume these wires should be attached to some sort of switch.  A primitive radio, like Marconi might have used, except better.  Where did you find it?”

“Hidden under the carpet of the middle step of the stairs, in a specially made hollow.  There was some sort of setup of tinfoil on top.  It’s a pressure pad, Zuri.  And we set it off.”

Zuri felt the blood drain from her face, too.  Someone knew they were there.  Someone who was probably already on their way.

“Help me with these.  We need to get out of here.”

“Do they work?”

“No idea, I’ve had no time to test, and I won’t get time now.  Move!”

They hauled them down the stairs, the noise luring Halim out of the kitchen, his eyes widening and their frantic movements.  He glanced out the window and said something presumably explicit.  He pointed.

A group of six men was coming down the driveway.  Liam saw baseball bats, sledghammers, and two shotguns.  How the hell was there still ammo left!  All three of them dropped to their stomachs as one of the men turned towards the window.  Listening hard, Halim gestured towards the kitchen door.  The indication was clear, but Liam was reluctant.

It was only when he heard the front door open that he began to move in earnest.  They hauled the panels out, Halim going ahead to check the coast was clear.  Clearly the answer was ‘no’ because they heard a yell a few seconds later.

“Got him!” a man’s voice yelled.  “He was sneaking out the back!”

Zuri’s hammer caught him a sharp blow to the back of the head, shutting him up for the moment.  Liam turned to her and Halim.

“You two, head for the third house.  It’s the closest.  Hide the panels somewhere on the way, somewhere people won’t look.  Everyone got their packs and kit?”  He gestured to his backpack and multitool.  Halim nodded.

“Good.  Go.”

“What about you?  What are you going to do?”

“Halim, you left the balloon on the stove, right?  I thought I saw one in there.”

He mimed a balloon, then fire.  Halim’s eyes brightened and he nodded vigorously, staring daggers at the unconscious man on the ground.  Zuri grabbed his arm and pulled him back towards the panels.  Stacking the two, the pair hurried away as fast as their weight would allow.

Stowing his multitool back in his pocket, Liam drew out his lighter and flicked on the flame.  He grinned.  It was time to have some fun.

Taglist: @eloandrianos​