#dd02

John sighed as he stepped through the door into his room. “You can come in, I'm just packing a few things.”

“Thank you.” EOS had spent some time studying up on human interaction, and it took her some time to understand why John wanted to lay down ground rules. Though once she understood the concept the fact that he was inviting her in meant a lot to her.  “The same thing happened just now in the Med Bay. Plus the fact that the circuits to the water reclaimer's door are out, but the breaker is still active. The computer shouldn't be acting in that way, it's unnatural.”

“Alright, EOS.” John shrugged a small duffle over his shoulder and made his way back into the corridor. “I know you're not going to like this, but it's just in case. I want you to gather your program and place it into the central memory core of the station. I'll then disconnect the core and bring it with me to Earth.”

“John.” EOS had stopped in her track staring at him. “I don't like being confined like that.”

“I know.” John turned to look up at her camera. “But we can’t just transfer your program down, it would make you too vulnerable if this is a hacking attempt and I don't want them finding you. If they took you they could destroy you or even change you.”

“I wouldn't let them, I'd fight them.”

“EOS, I promise. As soon as I'm on land Brains and I will find a bigger place to put you. Maybe the house computers?”  

“You promise not to keep me in there long?”

“I promise.” John smiled as he turned and continued on.

EOS followed him quietly to the airlock that connected the station with the elevator. She did not always understand John’s reasoning, but had learned that he only did things he thought were important. If taking her down to the island was important, then she would do what he asked.

John reached out and imputed his code to open the doors. They swished open smoothly so he stepped into the airlock and inputed another code into the next panel. The doors behind him slid closed as the ones in front opened part of the way. John inputed an emergency code into the pad, but the doors remained partially open. He entered a diagnostic code into the panel, only for it to claim that the doors were closed and locked. Cursing to himself, he went back to the first doors and put in an override command forcing the first set of doors to open again. With a sigh of relief the doors opened smoothly.

“John, is something wrong?” EOS noticed he still had his books with him.

“I can't get into the elevator.”

“How will you get to Earth?”

“I'll have to call for a ride.” John tapped on his sash and brought up a comm signal to the island. However before he could call for his brothers, Scott was already calling him.

“John, are you there?” The lounge popped up on John's comm and he could see all four of his brothers gathered in the area.  

“I'm here, and stuck for the time being.” John sighed as he made his way to the control room. “The elevator isn't responding. It won't even let me in. And to top it off, EOS thinks these mishaps aren't accidental.”

“Not accidental, then what?” Scott's hologram frowned and he started to pace.

“She hasn't found proof, but she thinks someone might actually be hacking into Thunderbird 5.”

“Hacking into Thunderbird 5?” The room below exploded.

“I have b-been thinking along the s-same lines.” Brains appeared on the hologram. “I have safeguards in place, to keep things like these from happening. It l-looks like my safety's have been b-bypassed.”

“Alright, Alan, chug some coffee. You're going up to get your brother.”

“F.A.B.” Alan popped up like a whack-a-mole and jumped into his seat, awaiting his departure.

“And, actually, I think I'll go with you. I just have a bad feeling about this.” Scott turned to join Alan.

“I'll be waiting.” John closed the communication and set down his books. “We’ve got a few minutes before they get here. Let's see if we can't lay some traps for this hacker.”

“I would be pleased to do that.” EOS’ lights lit up like a Christmas tree.

They both got to work, John having brought up several of the stations programs that had not been compromised and preceded to rework some of the programming. It would take Alan and Scott up to forty minutes to reach his position, which was plenty of time to cause some havoc and to possibly get some proof as to who was doing it.

John had barely gotten started on one particular hack that would cause anyone trying to hack into the program to be sent to a random internet page about kittens, when the gravity wheel suddenly decided to stop. The sudden lack of gravity really didn't bother John. He just stayed where he was and continued with his work.

However, a moment later the wheel jerked to life faster than normal forcing him to his knees and causing his head to hit a nearby console. He sat there for a moment holding one hand to his head. Dark patches were appearing in his field of vision and he blinked ferociously, trying to force them away. Before he could compose himself the wheel had stopped and he felt his weight disappear which, honestly, did not help the matter.

“John, are you alright?” EOS zoomed over to where the astronaut was floating.

“I'll be fine.” John shook his head and blinked some more, the station slowly coming back into focus. “EOS, I think it would be best if you got yourself into the memory core.”

“But your brothers are not here yet.” EOS wanted to argue. She hated being confined even if she knew he was doing it for her protection.

“Please, EOS. I promise I will extract you as soon as we're safe.” John looked up at her, blood running down the side of his face.

She sighed—as much as and AI can—and nodded. “Alright, John. I will see you soon.”

John watched as the lights around EOS' camera changed into a rainbow of colors before fading to black. Satisfied, he twisted himself in mid air and reached for a handle so he could push himself to where the memory core was plugged in.

It was a cylindrical unit, six inches long and six inches in diameter. It was where the most top secret of information about International Rescue and Thunderbird 5 were kept. Even if someone were able to hack into all of the systems of his bird, it would take them far longer to hack into the memory core.

John quickly tapped his comm controls on his sash. “Scott.” The lounge once again appeared before him. “Please tell me Thunderbird 3 is launching, things are starting to escalate rather quickly.”

“They're on their way.” Scott looked up at him and then turned toward Virgil. “I'm sorry Virgil—”

John didn't wait to hear what one older brother was saying to the other, but used one of the bars on the wall to maneuver himself down the corridor that would take him to the room where the memory core was housed.

He had barely started down the hall when the gravity ring decided once again to speed into operation. He had some warning this time and reached down with his hands to help cushion his fall. He hit the floor harder than he expected and thought he had heard a small crack in his right wrist, or maybe he had felt it, or both. Either way, a sharp pain had started to radiate from that point in his arm. He forced each finger on his hand to move, and they did though they were starting to feel stiff and swollen as he started to lose feeling in them. He tried to rotate his wrist, but that caused another hot white jab of pain to radiate up the appendage.

He used his good arm to push himself up onto his knees. The wheel was causing about two G's of gravity. It was heavy, but John could still walk in it. Looking around he found a handle on the wall next to him and used it to pull himself to his feet. Slowly one step at a time, he made his way down the hall. He was about half way down when the wheel stopped, and launched him into the air. He curled himself up, protecting his wrist, as his back thumped the ceiling, pushing the air out of him.

“Whoever is doing this—” He floated for a moment to catch his breath. “has a very wicked sense of humor.”

Once he was breathing normally again, he grabbed for the closest hand hold and tried to pull himself closer to the floor, but he didn't have the chance. The gravity wheel sped back into action. John twisted himself so that he wouldn't land on his wrist again, but instead landed on his left shoulder with yet another crack reverberating in his head. More than likely he had broken his collar bone.

He rolled over on his back and tried to raise his arm above him. It hurt like hell, but he could move it, though he knew he shouldn't. However, he didn't have much choice. He couldn't feel any of his fingers in his right hand anymore, which could mean nerve damage when his wrist broke. He could still feel his fingers and move them on his left, he just couldn't lift his whole arm. Grunting with effort, he tucked his left arm to his side, his hand laying on his stomach and rolled over.

Another shot of pain from his wrist as he rolled on top of it, but he breathed through his teeth and tried to ignore it. The wheel was spinning at close to three Gs, and without the aid of his arms, John was not going to be getting to his feet easily. So, instead, he started to crawl down the hall like an inchworm; walk his knees up till his butt was in the air and then slide his shoulders down the hall.

As an afterthought, he figured it would have hurt less if he had remained on his back. As it was, each time he pushed himself forwards his shoulder would grind, and then as he laid flat his wrist would shoot an electric shock of pain up his arm. He didn't have much father to go, he could see the control pad for the memory core just ahead of him.

John had pulled his knees up, and was just about to push himself forward once more when the gravity wheel screeched once again to a halt. John shot forward and hit the console straight on with his head. He floated unmoving for a moment, then slowly he started to blink.

His vision was filled with black, that slowly faded to gray, and then white. He knew he didn't have much time, and even though his vision was still blurry he reached forward and felt for the door to the access panel. His shoulder ground next to his ear but he had to get the memory core out of Thunderbird 5. Color started to seep into is sight and he reached for the red blob in front of him—the keypad.

He had made sure when they constructed the station that all keypads, whether in conjunction with a keyboard or other panel would all be numbed the same way. So when he reached out to the blurry red square he was sure he was hitting the right numbers. The memory core and the systems surrounding it worked off of their own power, and their own systems, so that even if the rest of the station was dead, the memory core could still be retrieved safely.

He could hear a muffled hiss as a big round button appeared before him. He was slowly starting to see detail, and could read the words 'shut down' on it as long as he squinted a bit, though squinting made his head pound even more than it already was. He reached out and pushed the button firmly. An alarm started to sound throughout the station as lights and other non-essential systems started to shut down. The button retracted and moved aside to reveal the black cylinder.

John reached in and pulled on the handle, grinding his teeth in pain as his shoulder continued to grind in his ear. Finally with a click, the cylinder slid out of its home and into John's arms.

John blinked again, his vision becoming clearing but still with a hint of extra light around things. He looked around for the emergency cabinet. There was one in every main room. It contained an extra helmet, suit, med kit, and oxygen. If the station suddenly vented his atmosphere he wouldn’t want to have to go far in the two or so minutes he'd have before death.

He pulled himself over to the cabinet,  opened it,  pulled out the helmet, and painfully reached up to shove it on his head. He then floated aimlessly with the memory core in his arms, waiting for his brothers to arrive.

He took a deep breath and twisted his body in the air so he was face down, and tried to maneuver himself so that his legs were closest to the floor when the unthinkable happened—the station moved. They had accessed the thrusters. John tucked the core in the crook of his left elbow and then turned toward a command display to see if he could out wit the hacker, but the hacker was still a step ahead of him. Just as John reached out his right arm—pain be damned, the gravity wheel spun into action dropping John like a rock. His head hit the edge of the console, cracking the face of his helmet and knocking him unconscious.

—

“How ya doing over there, Virgil?” Alan asked glancing over at his off colored brother.

“Can't talk.” Virgil had his eyes closed trying to ignore everything around him.

“But we're not even in space yet, technically.” Alan adjusted some of the controls before him. “Oh wait, yeah, now we are.”

It was as if gravity had been waiting for Alan's cue. The force the rocket had taken to break through the atmosphere faded away as the weight of their bodies lessened and Virgil's stomach promptly moved into his throat. Without a word to his brother he lifted the restrains on his shoulders and floated toward the back of the cabin where Alan could still distinctly hear him re-taste his early breakfast.

“Guess who's cleaning their bird once we're back.” Alan sighed as he reached forward and instigated his Comm. “Thunderbird 3 calling Thunderbird 5, are you still there John?” Alan frowned at the silence that greeted him. “Thunderbird 3 calling Thunderbird 5!”

“His communications must be down.” Virgil was back in his seat, though the green hue hadn’t gone away.

“You okay?”

“For now, luckily I only had one bagel and a cup of coffee.”

“I didn't want to know that.” Alan cringed a little, his mind more than willing to picture what had happened behind him. “Thunderbird 3 calling Tracy Island, Brains you there?”

“T-Tracy Island here.”

“Hey, have you heard from John?”

“No. I've b-been trying to contact him s-since your departure to no avail.” Brains was rubbing his chin as he examined something else before him. “I s-suspect his communications have been compromised.”

“So how do we hook up if he doesn't know when we're arriving?” Virgil looked over at his little brother an eyebrow raised.

“Then we knock on the doo—" Alan slurred the last word his mouth hanging open. “Virgil, look.”

Virgil followed Alan's gaze out of the front windows of Thunderbird 3 and to the distant figure of Thunderbird 5.

“Is it supposed to be doing that?” Virgil quickly turned away from the scene. “God, that is making the dizziness worse.”

“Alan, Virgil, what is wrong? Have you made visual contact with Thunderbird 5?”

“Yeah, and its gravity ring is going crazy. It's spinning one way, stopping and then going in the other direction, and fast.” Alan took his bird out of autopilot and maneuvered a little closer but with enough distance not to put either ship into danger. “Not to mention it's thrusters are jolting it every which way. I'm not going to be able to dock like normal with it like that.”

“I sure hope J-John is okay,.”

“Is there any way of stopping it, Brains?” Virgil was still avoiding the scene and concentrated on the engineer’s hologram. “If John is in there, there's no way we're going to be able to go in and save him without needing to be saved ourselves.”

“Yes. I b-believe there is. If you disconnect the p-power supply to the ring, it should stop.”

“Won't that cut out life support as well?” Virgil was worried. He knew the basics of the space station, but since he had never actually done any repairs his knowledge was lacking a bit more than he would have liked.  

“No, life support runs on its own power.” Brains shook his head as he sent up a set of schematics for them to look at. “You’ll just need to cut the power here.”  

“No Problem.” Alan had his shoulder restraints up and his helmet in his hands. “We can hit that on our way to the door.”

“I thought you said you couldn't dock.”

“I can't, so we'll have to park alongside and walk over.” Alan smiled. “You did bring your helmet right?”

Alan maneuvered Thunderbird 3 along side of Thunderbird 5 and set the auto pilot to stay within a one-hundred foot range of the station. He then pulled his board off the wall and threw it on the floor.

“You riding with me?” Alan grinned at Virgil, he knew he didn’t really have much of a choice.

“I could have been in Four, but nope, Scott had to have Gordon.” Virgil frowned at the small board before him and hesitantly stepped up onto it.

“Better hang on if you don't want to be left behind!”

The doors opened above them, and Alan took off. Virgil grabbed his younger brother around the waist and hung on for dear life. They zoomed from Thunderbird 3 over to the access panel Brains had showed them. Virgil grabbed for the support handle next to the door and practically tore the panel off its hinges.

“Careful, don't want to injure her too much.”

“I just want to get back to solid ground as fast as I can.” Virgil tried to keep his eyes on the surface of the bulk head before him and not the emptiness that was everywhere else. “Is this the wire?”

“Yep, number 32 coming from output C.” Alan nodded as he looked at the schematics on his wrist computer.

Virgil pulled out his wire cutters and snipped the wire like it was nothing. “Did it stop?” Virgil wasn’t about to look way from the steady surface of the hull.

“Yeah, I think so. At least it's stopped for the moment. Even the station's stopped bopping around.” Alan grabbed his brother's hand put it back on his waist. “Now for the knocking.”

They sped along the hull—Virgil kept his eyes tightly shut—and to the airlock nearest to them. Alan punched in the emergency protocol code into the keypad but nothing happened.

“Brains, more bad news. We're locked out.”

“You'll have to override the k-keypad.”  

“I've got this.” Virgil pulled out another of his tools.

“You sure, you're still looking a bit green.”

“I need to or else.” Virgil looked like he was ready to throw up again but even he knew throwing up in his helmet was the worst possible thing he could do. So he hoped if he could keep himself busy, he could prevent that from happening.

He popped open the keypad and pulled it out, exposing all the thickly insulated wires inside. He clipped a few, patched together others, and after a couple of minutes pushed the keypad back in its position. He pressed one button and the doors slid smoothly open.

Once inside the airlock Alan entered his code on the second panel, and this time the doors worked like they were supposed to—the outside ones closed, the airlock pressurized, and the inner ones slid open.

“Well, it looks like the air is still breathable.” Alan took off his helmet.

“You leave that on! We're not staying long enough to chat.” Virgil glared at his brother as he reached up to his sash and hit the logo there. “Our short range comms should work. John can you hear me?”

They both waited, but only silence answered them.

“How about we split up?” Alan shrugged.

“No, we stay together. Anyways, we do have trackers embedded in our communicators.” Virgil smirked at Alan as he punched a few commands into his wrist controller and brought the tracker to life sending out a signal he hoped would lead them to their brother. They floated there watching Virgil's monitor their breath held until a red dot appeared.

“There, looks like he’s in the memory center.” Alan did a flip and pulled himself down the hall towards to ring.

“That’s an odd place for him to be.” Virgil frowned as he followed Alan down the hall to the gravity ring which now sat silently. Silence echoed around them, not even the normal sounds of the station filled the void.

“Thunderbird 5 has had a bit of a beating hasn't she?” Alan just wanted to end the silence, he wasn’t really expecting his brother to start up a conversation. “Half the lights are out, the other half seem to be barely working. I hope we find whoever did this.”

“Our first priority is to get John out—before I'm no longer able to function.” Virgil frowned as he looked around. Alan was right, he could see small burn marks where independent systems had been fried. Luckily who ever was hacking into her systems hadn't messed with life support or the emergency systems. They were safe for now.

“The memory center is that way. I’m gonna go to the command room.” Alan had stopped once they had reached the ring, grabbing one of the bars overhead to push himself in the other direction. “I want to see something.”

“I thought I said not to split up.”

“Come on, Virgil, you’ll be fine. Just grab John and meet me back here.”

“And what if I pass out?” Virgil held one of his hands out. “My hands are already starting to shake.”

“You're doing fine. This is the longest you've ever lasted.” Alan smiled thinking it would cheer him up.

“You're not helping,” Virgil grumbled and took a deep breath. “Fine, but if we aren't there in five, come find us.”

“F.A.B.” Alan pushed himself away towards the control room, as Virgil continued in the other direction.

He pushed himself into the final section of the ring and froze. There were bits of debris floating everywhere. Nothing big, just bits and pieces of smaller items, things that had been broken off as something large had been thrown around while the gravity ring had been out of control.

That something large had been John.

Virgil pulled his way over to his brother who was floating limply near the floor.

“John!” Virgil reached for his brother's arm expecting to feel the muscles tighten under the spacesuit in reflex, but the arm stayed limp and his body did not move. A surge of adrenaline had started to pump through Virgil's veins—his dizziness only slightly pushed away. He pulled John toward him, turning his body to face him. His helmet had a dozen fissures and cracks webbed along its surface, and splatters of blood dotted the inside. He could see John's eyes, they were closed, but his face was a mess of blood.

Virgil tapped the controls on John's sash, brining up his physical stats that were constantly being updated by his top of the line suit. It took a moment for the information to display, the control ring had a crack in it as well, but soon John's heart beat jumped into view. It was steady, but weaker than it should have been. He also wasn't getting the O2 he needed either.

Virgil grabbed John's arm and brought up his oxygen stats, the reserves on his suit were empty, he was only breathing what air got to him from the cracks in his helmet. Quickly Virgil pulled John's helmet off.

John's face was a mess, that was Virgil's first thought. Blood was still oozing from a gash on his forehead that seemed to mark one of the blood spatters on the helmet. There was also blood around his nostrils, Virgil gently felt the bridge of his nose, it was broken. John's lips were dry, and slightly apart, Virgil leaned down and could hear the slow weak breaths that went in and out of them.

Pushing himself away, Virgil went over to the emergency cabinet which was still hanging open. He pulled the med kit out and pushed himself back to where John floated. First thing, John needed O2. Virgil placed the mask gently over his nose and mouth slipping the elastic band around his head, and then activated the small device, hooking it onto John's suit. The device beeped into existence—it had been made to interact with John's suit and started to communicate with it adjusting the O2 to suit the injured man.

Virgil turned his attention back to John's stats. According to the readouts there was damage to John's right hand, and left shoulder, as well as injured ribs. There wasn't much else he could do for any of that until they could get him strapped into the stretcher on Thunderbird 3.

Virgil was about to grab John and leave, when he noticed something in John's right arm. He reached over and grabbed the black cylinder giving it a curious stare. He knew what it was, but didn't understand why John had risked his life to retrieve it.

The memory core of Thunderbird 5 was what they used to call the black box. Even if the space station were to lose it's orbit and crash back onto Earth, the memory core would have still been intact. It wasn't even part of their emergency protocol to retrieve the thing until the situation at hand and all danger had been neutralized.