Thunderbirds, all characters and concepts are the property of their original creators. No copyright infringement is intended, or profit made, from this work of fiction.

'Colonel Casey,' John said, as the hologram of a dark-skinned woman sprang to life in front of him, 'I'm guessing this isn't a social call?'

'No' She said. With her strong jaw and steely expression, it was easy to see how she had risen to command of the GDF. 'One of our Orbital Survey Stations has just transmitted a distress call.'

'What's the situation?'

'They've suffered a micro-meteorite strike and their power grid has been compromised.'

'What about the crew?'

'They're unharmed.' Casey said. 'But their oxygen generation system has been compromised. Currently, we have no assets in range that can provide assistance in time...'

'Leave it to us, Colonel.' John said. 'International Rescue won't let you down.'

'I don't doubt it.' She said and John shut down the link, his fingers flying over the console keys.

'Thunderbird 5 to International Rescue Headquarters...'

'Checkmate.' Scott said, placing his Knight on the board with a decisive click and Alan put his head in his hands.

'Not again. How d'you do it?'

'Chess is a game of patience, Alan.'

'Yeah, well, if this was Zombie Apocalypse, I'd have kicked your...'

'Thunderbird 5 to International Rescue Headquarters.'

'Go ahead, John.' Scott said, looking up at the hologram of his brother that was being projected from his portrait on the curved wall above the Lounge.

'We have a situation. One of the GDF's Orbital Surveillance Satellites has suffered a meteorite strike. Colonel Casey's asked for our assistance.'

'FAB, Thunderbird 5.' Scott said. 'Tell her we're on her way. Alan, you're up.'

'Alright!'

'Thunderbird 3 to Thunderbird 5. I'll be breaking orbit in 30 seconds. ETA to OSS-42 is 1 minute. Just enough time for a quick level of Zombie Apocalypse...'

'Alan...'

'Just kidding, John. You got anything else I need to know?'

'Not really. I still haven't been able to raise the crew. But, I have managed to dig up the schematics of the station. If they're operating on emergency power, then their oxygen generation system will only last for an hour. After that, they'll start to asphixiate.'

'How long since the distress call?'

'...25 minutes.'

'No pressure, then.' Alan muttered. 'Approaching Danger Zone, now. I'm gonna see if I can raise them on short range.'

'FAB.' John said and Alan flipped a switch on his console.

'This is International Rescue Thunderbird 3 calling OSS-42. Do you read me? ...This is International Rescue calling OSS-42...'

'Anything?' John asked and Alan shook his head.

'Nothing. Looks like I'll be taking a walk...'

'FAB, Thunderbird 3.' John said. 'Good luck...'

Here we go... Alan thought, as his Spaceboard dropped away from Thunderbird 3 and he ignited the thrusters, steering towards the satellite.

'Wow. Would you look at the size of that thing. GDF never does anything small, does it?'

'Focus, Alan.' John said. 'There should be an access hatch on the command module.'

'Alright, alright.' Alan said. 'I see it.'

Chopping back on the thrusters, he drifted closer and grabbed onto the handhold outside the hatch and punching the actuator for the airlock.

'Airlock's operational, John. I'm going inside now.'

'FAB, Alan. Keep an eye on your air reserve. The Oxy-Gen system will only operate for another 15 minutes.

'Copy that.' Alan said, stepping into the airlock and tapping a button on his wrist control, watching his Spaceboard return to Thunderbird 3 as the airlock hissed shut.

Come on...come on... He thought, just as the airlock light turned green and the interior door slid open to reveal a darkened room lit by the flickering of emergency lights. In the gloom, he could just make out a woman dressed in GDF fatigues bending over a console, looking up when she heard the hiss of the door.

'Who are you?' She demanded and Alan took a step back.

'Uh...I'm with International Rescue. We received your distress signal.' He said and she looked him up and down, with a scowl.

'Sargeant Madison, GDF. Now, if you don't mind, I've got work to do..;.' She said, turning back to the console and Alan frowned.

'I know. Your Oxy-Gen plant will shut down in 13 minutes...'

'Thank you for stating the obvious. Now, shut up, will you?' She snapped, tapping a sequence of commands into the console and there was a strident bleep.

'Dammit. The power relays are completely shot.'

'Isn't there anything we can do?'

'No. Without the relays, there's no way restore power to the station.'

'Where are the relays? Can't we access the manually?'

'Not a chance, kid. The only access is outside the station.'

'No problem, then.' Alan said, heading back towards the airlock and she moved to block his path.

'Where do you think you're going?'

'To access the relays...'

'Forget it, kid. There's no way you're going to get there in time. And, even if you do, you don't know how to repair them...'

'That's why you'll have to talk me through it.' Alan said. 'Unless you've got a better idea?'

'...no.'

'Alright, then. I'll radio when I'm in position...'

'Man, I'll never get tired of this...'

'What are you talking about?'

'This. Space. When I'm up here, it feels like I can do anything...'

'There's just one thing you've got to right now, Rocket Boy. Focus...'

'Never really my strong suit...' Alan muttered.

'What was that?'

'Nothin'. I'm almost there. How long have we got?'

'A little over 5 minutes, Rocket Boy. Get a move on.'

'...copy that.' Alan said. 'Okay, I'm here. There's an access hatch. It's labelled Primary Power Relays.'

'That's it. Remove the hatch.'

'Okay...it's open.'

'Tell me what you see...'

'There's four relays. Green and red wires connected to a circuit box. There's three green lights and one red.'

'That's the blown relay. You'll need to remove it and restart the system.'

'Can the other relays handle the voltage?'

'Probably. It's not like we've got a lot of options, though. Three minutes and counting...'

'Alright, alright...' Alan said, getting a grip on the damaged relay and pulling it out. 'There, now what?'

'Hit the reset switch on the far side of the console.'

'Got it.' Alan said, reaching out for it. He was almost there when the handhold his was gripping came loose. Desperately, he tried to grab the edge of the hatch, but he was too slow.

'Uh-oh...'

'What's your situation?' Madison barked.

'Can't talk right now...' Alan said, managing to grab hold of the station and stabilise himself. 'My hand hold gave out. I'm okay, but I'm on the eastern arm of the station. Time?'

...less than two minutes. There's no way you can get back to the relay in time.'

'Sure there is.' Alan said. 'I'll just have to jump.'

'Jump? Are you crazy? You'll never make it...'

'You never know unless you try...' Alan said. 'Besides, we don't have much choice, do we?'

'Alright. Good luck...'

Okay. Here we...Go!'

Alan kicked off from the station, the stars whirling around him and he fought against the nausea, focusing on the panel that was rushing up towards him.

Steady...steady...

His outstretched fingers brushed the edge of the panel and he grabbed hold, the impact nearly pulling his arm out of his socket.

'Rocket Boy. Are you okay?'

...yeah. I'm okay.' Alan said, reaching for the reset switch. 'Resetting relays in 3...2...1...panel reset.'

There was a moment's silence and then Sargeant Madison came on the radio.

'Main powers back online. Good job...Rocket Boy.'

'Yeah...' Alan said, with a grin. 'Thanks...'

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Any reviews, comments or constructive criticisms are very welcome.