Author's Notes: Sorry this took so long to get out. Exams sort of caught up with me and have been making me put a lot of work on hold. Anyway, this is the Christmas special I promised, based on the beloved tale, The Polar Express. This children's book (1985) was turned into a much-longer movie version in 2004. So here I have made a Storm Hawks version, which draws from both the book and the movie.

No, this is not like A Storm Hawks' Christmas Carol. Although meant to be humorous at times, this fic will not have the beloved narrator of Carol or have the Storm Hawks characters arguing about their roles. It is because the characters in The Polar Express are not so constant like they are in A Christmas Carol, and so therefore it is very difficult to assign parts. So, I am simply putting the Storm Hawks into the adventure. Of course, this takes place in the Atmos with Storm Hawks elements, and the Condor Express actually flies from terra to terra instead of being a train . . . well, you'll see. Read on, and may the Christmas Spirit be with you, my friend!

Disclaimer: I do not own any element of Storm Hawks, which is property of Nerd Corpse; The Polar Express children's book, which belongs to Chris Van Allsburg; or the 2004 film The Polar Express, which belongs to Warner Bros. Pictures.

Storm Hawks—The Condor Express

By WhispertheWolf

Chapter 1: A Magic Ship of Mayhem

On Christmas Eve, many years ago, I lay quietly in my bed. I did not rustle the sheets. I breathed slowly and silently. I was listening for a sound—a sound a friend had told me I'd never hear—the ringing bells of Santa's sleigh. It was a sound I was afraid I would never hear.

"There is no Santa," my friend had insisted. And I wondered if he was right.

Suddenly, my eyes flew open. That was it! I heard it! But could I be sure? I turned toward the window and slowly clamored out of bed. As I approached the windowsill, I anxiously put my arm down on the heater, and I felt it burning my arm immediately. I pulled it away and look at the window in frustration. The stupid heater was making the window foggy. Trying to get a better view, I rubbed the window with my still-hot sleeve.

That did eventually make a nice viewing hole, but when I peered out, all I could see was the snow drifting slowly down on the houses along the street and the snowman my sister Lynn and I had built together. But no Santa.

Then I heard the bell again. It wasn't coming from outside. I turned around. It was coming from behind my door.

Slowly I tiptoed toward the door, not daring to breathe in case I scared the jolly man away. My foot accidentally hit a crystal and sent it rolling into the furnace. I froze as it clattered softly. Had anyone heard it?

I listened. No footsteps. I was in the clear.

Hurriedly I ran toward the door, opened it, and was out on the staircase in a matter of seconds. And from there I could see the living room.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The tree was bear, the stockings were empty, the milk and cookies were untouched, and there was not a soul in sight. Figures. I rested my chin on the railing.

But suddenly, I heard the bell again. This time I turned to look at the doorway to the kitchen. The light was on in there, and there was a shadow falling across the floor.

My eyes widened, and my mouth fell open. I could hardly believe my eyes. A tall, fat, waddling figure with what appeared to be a Santa hat on was walking down my hall. With each step he took, a bell jingled.

But of course, it was too good to be true. The figure's shadow appeared to take off its head, and I heard Dad's voice say, "Alright. Alright, Lynn, you had your water." As soon as I heard the voices, I knew that the shape had simply been my dad carrying Lynn on his shoulders. "Now let's get you upstairs and into bed."

I turned around, scurrying up the stairs before they saw me. I felt so angry and stupid. I had gotten my hopes up for no reason. Again.

But Lynn sounded too distressed to go to bed. "But—but—but, I have to—"

I had just gotten into my bedroom and closed my door shut softly when they reached my doorway. Lynn's room was right across from mine, and I could peer through the keyhole and see her sitting on her bed in her nightgown, looking up at Dad with an expectant face. "Piper said Santa would have to fly faster than the speed of light to get to everyone's house in one night."

"So?" Dad asked as he started to pull up the covers over her.

But Lynn didn't even pause for breath. "And to hold everyone's presents, his sled would have to be bigger than a freighter ship!"

"Your sister said that?" Dad repeated. "Well, she was just kidding. She knows there's a Santa."

I bit my lip. I really didn't want Lynn telling Dad what I thought of Santa just yet. I didn't want to disappoint my parents. And they might get angry at me for spoiling Lynn's Christmas.

"She said she wasn't sure. She wasn't sure if Santa was for real," Lynn argued.

Lynn was right. I had said all that stuff. Only because it was true.

"Of course Santa's real. He's as real as Christmas itself," Dad assured.

So you say, I thought.

"But he won't come until you're sound asleep, young lady." It wasn't Dad talking this time; it was Mom. I could see her leaning over Lynn's bed and kissing her on the cheek. "Sweet dreams."

"Santa will be here before you know it," Dad assured Lynn as he and Mom turned off the light and walked out of the room. "So go to sleep." And with that, they closed the door to her room so I couldn't see it anymore. I could just see the Santa hat with the bell on top hanging from Dad's pocket as he turned and walked away down the hall. That must have been the hat on Lynn's head in the kitchen, the stupid hat with the stupid bell.

As I stepped away from the door, doubts clouded my head once more. Dad had said Santa was as "real as Christmas itself." Yet . . .

Just to double-check, I went to the top drawer of my dresser and opened it. There I found a flashlight and every Christmas card, every picture, every story I could ever find of kids "un-bearding" fake Santas. I even had a newspaper clipping of fake Santas going on strike. I nodded to myself as I read, squinting skeptically. Real as Christmas, huh? What was Christmas, then? A fake day?

I then put the stuff down, turned around, and pointed my flashlight at my bookshelf, where I had an encyclopedia collection. I got out the N-P Encyclopedia, set it down on the nightstand, and began flipping pages, balancing the flashlight between my chin and my shoulder. Finally I came across it: "Polar Terra." When I got there, a few words jumped out at me so much that I read them aloud quietly. "Stark, barren, devoid of life."

Just then, I head more footsteps, and my heart started beating wildly. They were two heavy pairs of footsteps on their way to my door. Mom and Dad were coming to check on me!

Quickly I scrambled back into bed. Even though I knew the gig was up, I didn't want to disappoint my parents.

As soon as I had climbed into bed and pulled the blankets over me, I heard the door click open and my parents walk inside. "She's gotta be asleep by now," I heard Dad whisper.

"She used to stay awake all night waiting for Santa," Mom noted, also whispering.

Their voices got louder. I could tell they were right next to my bed now, even though I had my back to them.

"Think those days are just about over," Dad answered.

"Oh, that would be sad if that were true," Mom said.

"Yeah," Dad agreed. "An end of the magic."

My eyes flew open. What did he just say?

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," I heard Mom whisper. I quickly shut my eyes again as she leaned down and kissed my cheek.

I opened my eyes again as soon as I heard them walking away. I glanced at the crystal by the heater, where I could see their reflections in the doorway. They turned around to look at me before they closed the door. "See, out like a light," Dad told Mom. "An express ship wouldn't wake her up now." And with that, he closed the door.

Once they were gone, I rolled over on my back, looking up at the ceiling blankly. End of the magic? What had Dad meant by that?

Beside me I could hear the clock ticking, and I glanced over. It was 10:20. The least I should do is try to sleep.

I guess I fell asleep. I must have. The last thing I remember was the ticking of the clock, which seemed to lull me into a trance. The next thing I knew, the clock had a stopped. I glanced over at it. It was now five minutes to midnight. And the clock had just . . . stopped.

Then, it happened. The entire room started shaking. The crystal leaning against the heater began to clatter against it, the model ship hanging from my ceiling began to shake, my bed and bureau both rattled along the floor, shocking me into sitting up. The cup of pens and pencils on my desk tipped over and spilled on the floor, as did my Santa Claus files.

Outside, I heard a sound very different from ringing bells . . . the sound of crystal-powered engines and the blasting horn of a carrier ship.

Without another thought, I grabbed the robe hanging off my bedpost. The pocket caught on the top and ripped a little, spilling bits of crystal everywhere. (I liked to collect them, see.) But I was in too big of a hurry to worry about that. I stepped into my slippers and ran to the door, opened it, sped down the stairs, and headed out the front door, determined to see what was going on.

I couldn't quite understand what I was seeing at first because it was wrapped in an apron of steam, snowflakes falling lightly around it. Finally the steam cleared enough to make the ship out. It was definitely a carrier ship. On either side were two large pontoon-like engines that made up most of the ship. The main body of the ship had a long runway that led to the bridge that had quarters in floors stacked above and below it. In front of the bridge was an outdoor deck.

The ship had landed right in front of my house on its three wheels. The plank had come down, and standing there at the bottom of the plank was a Merb in a smart suit. Which was weird to me. I wasn't used to seeing Merbs. This one looked quite fidgety, but then I had heard they were all that way. "All aboard!" he called into the night air. "All aboard!"

I ran up to him, wanting to ask what was going on and why he was here. No ships were supposed to dock on Christmas Eve or Christmas, and they certainly weren't supposed to land in the middle of neighborhoods.

"Well," the Merb said when he saw me, "are you coming? Or are you going to stand here until you acquire thermal paralysis from the cold?"

"Uh, well . . ." I honestly didn't know how to answer that last question. "Where is this ship going?"

"Where is it going?" the Merb repeated. "Where is it going? Why, Polar Terra, of course! This is the Condor Express!" He gestured to the ship above us with a hint of pride. "She goes there every Christmas Eve!"

I stared at him incredulously. "Polar Terra?" I repeated.

The Merb rolled his eyes. "Oh," he said, "I see." He handed me his crystal-powered lantern. "Hold this, please. Wait!" He snatched it back as I reached for it and glared at me through narrow, suspicious eyes. "Are your hands sanitized?"

"No," I said, baffled and slightly offended by the question.

The Merb sighed wearily and handed me the lantern anyway. "You kids are going to be the death of me." Then he reached into his suit and pulled out a clipboard with a list on it. "Piper," he read my name aloud. He held the clipboard out for me to see. "Is this you?"

"Yeah, that's me," I answered, not quite sure why he had my name on a list and a little frightened because of it.

"Let's see," the Merb said, clearing his throat as he looked at the list himself. "No photo with a department-store Santa this year. No letter to Santa. And made your sister put out the milk and cookies." The Merb shook his head as he put the clipboard back. "Sounds to me like this is your crucial year." He leaned over and looked me right in the eye. "If I were you, I'd think about climbing on board. Unless you want to suffer years and years of terrible regret that will make you wish you had never lived. Of course, you might meet horrible, terrifying doom if you do climb on board."

And with that cheery thought, he took back his lantern from me, holding the handle in between his thumb and index finger so he had to touch as little of it as possible, cringing at touching even as much as he was. He didn't take a good hold of it until after he pulled a spray can out of his suit and sprayed the handle. I'm guessing that would be the disinfectant because he then proceeded to spray my hands before I drew back.

Alright, at least one rumor I'd heard was true. Merbs were weird and paranoid.

Well, I didn't move toward the plank. The Merb was creeping me out too much.

"Come on, come on!" the Merb urged, more like urging my decision rather than urging the actual boarding process. "I have a schedule to keep . . ." He pulled out a watch and grunted in frustration when he looked at it, as if just realizing he was running behind schedule. "Yup, we're doomed," he muttered quietly to himself.

I stepped back. I wasn't sure I wanted to get on. I mean, Polar Terra? Really?

The Merb shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said, turning around and trudging up the plank.

But as I stood there, watching him go, I mulled over his words about regret. And what had Dad said. End of the magic. Well, I didn't want the "magic" to end, and if this was part of the magic . . .

"Wait!" I cried just as the Merb reached the interior of the ship. I went running up the plank after him, stopping next to him.

The Merb gestured for me to follow him into the ship. I hesitated but eventually followed. "So you know who I am," I said. "Who are you?"

"Stork," the Merb answered curtly without stopping. "Your pilot."

I held out my hand to shake. "Nice to meet."

"Don't. Touch."

I drew my hand back. "Um, okay."

As I followed him along the dark corridors and up a ladder to higher decks, he said, "Watch out for deck fleas. They're nasty."

I sincerely hoped there were other people inside. I didn't want to spend my whole journey with this freaky guy.

Luckily, it seemed I didn't have to.

As soon as the door opened to the bridge, I was greeted with bright overhead lights and the singing and laughter of a whole bunch of other kids. They were all playing around in groups, talking each other, lounging on the couches around a round table, or simply talking in clusters. Balls, paper, and other objects were being thrown all over the place. I even saw a banana peel fly through the air and heard a chicken squawk somewhere. Having seen Stork's paranoia, I wasn't sure how he put up with this on his bridge.

One group of kids was singing:

"'Cause that's the way things happen on the Condor Express!

Honk, honk, the horn blows. That's the sound of her singing!

Blast, blast, the engines roar. Golly, look at her go!

If you wonder if we'll get there soon, anybody's guess!

'Cause that's the way things happen on the Condor Express!

When we get there, we'll scream, 'Yea!'

We'll arrive with a BANG, BANG, BANG!

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM! Laughing all the way!

With a comfy seat and lots to eat, boy, it's just the best!

Wish it wouldn't ever have to end!

With a little luck, we'll be on time. There's no need to stress.

'Cause that's the way things happen on the Condor Express!"

Food? I wasn't sure where that lyric was coming from. Maybe that would come later.

Uncertainly, I took a seat on a chair on the wall. I didn't know any of these people, and it was making me a little uncomfortable.

Next to me, someone looked up. A Wallop kid, by the looks of it. He kind of scared me until he smiled kindly at me. I turned away to look out the frontal window only turn to back and find him still looking at me. It was kind of creepy.

Just then, I heard a voice from someone directly in front of me. "Hey, hey, you!"

I looked up and saw a blond boy with blue eyes almost completely in my face. "Yeah, you!" he said. "You just got here, didn't you? Do you like hard core rock?" he asked excitedly.

"No," I said at once.

"Soccer?"

"No?"

"Spraying silly string on people?"

"Um . . . no."

"Watching TV?"

"Why are you asking me all this?"

"Because I want to." He studied me. "Oh, I know your type. You like books, don't you?" He said "books" as if they were something disgusting.

"Why, yes," I answered indignantly. "Yes, I do."

"Nerd."

"Hey!"

"Leave her, alone, Finn," the Wallop said, stepping up to us.

The blond boy, Finn, sniffed in a grumpily. "I was just asking."

Just then I felt the engines start, the ship rumbling. I looked over toward the helm and saw Stork there, pulling some levers. Slowly the Condor Express lifted off the ground, and I could hear the wheels folding in.

"I always feel like he's kidnapping us or something," Finn said. "He's kind of creepy."

Even though I agreed with him, the way Finn said it made it sound so mean that I felt the need to defend Stork. "I don't think he's that bad. He's just . . . eccentric."

Finn wrinkled his nose. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not that smart, are you?" I retorted in irritation.

"Someone's got a temper," he grumbled. He looked back toward the helm at "creepy" Stork. "Where would a creepy Merb take a whole bunch of kidnapped kids?"

"He's not kidnapping us," the Wallop said. "This is a magic ship he's driving. He's taking us to Polar Terra!"

Finn huffed. "Yeah, right!"

The Wallop shook his head. "Don't mind him."

Despite being a Wallop, this guy seemed nice enough. I leaned toward him, raising an eyebrow skeptically. "Are we really going to Polar Terra?"

At this, the Wallop broke out into a wide grin, nodding vigorously. "Isn't it great?"

I wasn't sure. I was starting to (grudgingly) admit that I saw Finn's point.

"I'm Junko, by the way," the Wallop said, holding out a hand.

"Piper," I answered back. His huge hand swallowed mine in a firm, almost painful handshake.

Just then, I realized the ship had stopped moving. We were hovering above the terra now. "Okay," Stork called out, "next stop, here we come!"

And with that, the Condor Express shot off into the night sky, taking me and the rest of these kids with it.