Ok guys. So, So. I almost had this finished another two thousand words and two chapters and we would have been done. Then I read it back and while it was ok, it didn't really go where I wanted it to. Most of what I have done will be incorporated at some point but I thought you guys deserved better - thank you for your comments inspiring me to do better. If we're going to whump John, lets do it probably shall we? Let me know what you think. :)
"I think I destroyed Thunderbird Five." And just like that Scott's stomach shrank and solidified, a ball of lead that threatened to drag him down. By the way Brains drew back Scott must have thrown him a horrendous look, but he didn't have time to worry about the engineer's feelings.
"I'll get Alan," Virgil said, swinging round and out of the cockpit in a smooth practiced motion.
"What did you do?" Gordon whispered, aghast.
"I took down some of the safeties and sent a power surge. It will have destroyed the battery banks." Brains looked sick as he spoke and Scott thought he probably looked the same, unable to fully take it in. Thunderbird Five was well protected from outside threats – from meteors to hijack – but before today Scott hadn't considered the risk of internal threats. "I locked John out and buried EOS in a repeating diagnostic protocol, neither of them will have been able to stop it."
"How long ago?" Scott demanded.
"I'm not sure. I'm sorry," Brains put a hand to his forehead "but I don't really have any idea. Some of my memories are patchy. How long since we landed?"
"Four hours, nearly."
"I think it was soon after that. Three maybe?"
Scott took a deep breath. Three hours. Three hours John could have been alone, hurt, in trouble. Or dead. He reached for the controls.
"This is Thunderbird Two to Thunderbird Five, come in Five." Nothing, not even static. "John, please respond."
"A 'bird can't take serious damage and we know nothing about it, can it?" Gordon queried.
Brains was shaking his head, pale and terrified. Evidently there was a way that it could. Scott would be angry about how that was possible later. But later, not now.
Alan's voice interjected into room. "Three will be ready to launch in four minutes, Scott, if you are coming get a move on."
"I'm on my way." he replied. "Gordon, I need you to stay here. Keep trying to raise Five and if you get anything let us know immediately. Brains, if you remember anything that could help, again we need to know straight away. And we might need you once we get there." Depending on the state of the station. Depending on what had happened to John. The knot in Scott's stomach tightened and he hurried into his uniform and up into Thunderbird Three.
Virgil was already strapped in to the co-pilots seat, and Scott raised a questioning eyebrow. "You gonna be alright for a trip to space with that head wound? We should be getting you to the med-bay for a concussion check."
"Later. I promise. It's just a bump, I've had worse doing maintenance." Virgil said as Scott settled into a passenger seat. They exchanged a grim glance behind Alan's back as he was completing his pre-flight checks and Scott was pleased Virgil was there for support. They needed him for his piloting skills but there was no way Scott was letting Alan on that station before the situation had been properly assessed.
Pushed back into his seat with the acceleration of Three's launch Scott was grateful for the g-forces and the seat belts – he could easily believe they were the only things keeping him upright right now: worry and fear raging and turning his bones to mush as the rest of him solidified. The sky fell away and Three rose into low orbit, gravity left behind: the lightness of Scott's body at odds with the heaviness in his heart.
"I've got visuals on Five." Alan said, very calmly for the circumstances. "It looks... it looks ok." And it did, twisting peacefully in geo-synchronous orbit, but that did nothing to ease the knot in Scott's stomach or the tension from his shoulders.
"I still can't raise him." Gordon said, image popping up.
"Me neither," Alan confirmed, flicking a few switches "I'm unable to connect to any of Five's systems but external scans show no damage and detect that the atmosphere is intact."
"Can you dock?" Virgil asked.
"Without an interface it will be tricky, but I can do it." Alan nodded.
"Great." Scott briefly squeezed his youngest brother's shoulder. "Let's get suited up just in case Virgil."
"I should come too."
"No Alan, stay here." Virgil said, on the same page as Scott, putting a hand to forestall his younger brother. "Keep the engine running, we'll call you if we need you." If the worst had happened... well, Alan was not going to walking into that, no way no how.
With an impressive display of skill Alan matched course with Five and got close enough that the automated docking clamps activated. Once through the airlock Scott and Virgil were faced with an eerie display – dim emergency lighting reflecting off floating debris cluttering the corridors. After manual confirmation that there was a breathable atmosphere Scott removed his helmet and the distinct smell of scorched circuitry assaulted him. It was something right out of a horror movie and his own nightmares.
"John?" He called out, voice echoing slightly. Just like across the airwaves there was no response, and they moved deeper into the station, pushing damaged panels out of their way to the main control centre. Usually this was alight with holograms, streams of data and readouts, maps, comms, simulations and programming. A thousand pieces of information that John choregraphed in an intricate dance of priorities, sifting the essential from the useful from the background static of interesting but useless party icebreakers. Now it was silent and dark, as it hadn't been in years.
"John!" Virgil grabbed Scott's arm to draw his attention as he pointed to a drifting figure on the far side of the room, the lack of gravity making it look like he was caught in a movie freeze frame.
With a few swift movements they were on him. Scott reached out, hesitantly at first but then with determination, and felt at John's neck for a pulse. He closed his eyes briefly before confirming to Virgil "He's alive."
But only just. This close he could hear that John was breathing, tough it was worryingly laboured. Scott activated his suit's bio-reader to get the more detailed information than that would be needed to move him safely, something more than the weak fluttering beneath his fingers. Blood spattered across John's face, his uniform was torn and burnt. Readouts coming in described burns to arms and chest, bruises, broken bones, a head injury and... internal injuries? That was worrying.
"Scott, look." Virgil gently turned John's floating form, the twisting revealing on the hidden side a piece of shrapnel buried in his abdomen, dark blood oozing slowly from around the wound, balling strangely in the lack of gravity. "I'll get him stabilised, you get Three ready."
Scott nodded and left John in Virgil's capable hands. He kicked back into Three and started setting up for patient transfer, opening up the med-bed and switching on the monitoring systems.
"Is... is he ok?" Alan asked hesitantly, the holographic representations of Gordon and Brains watching intently.
Scott's instinct as a big brother was to envelope Alan in a hug and tell him everything was going to be alright. Scott's instinct as a rescuer was to offer realistic reassurance only: it did no good to make empty promises. He fell back on commander – practical instructions only.
"He's hurt and needs a hospital. Find us somewhere he can get urgent treatment. Also, Brains? We need a diagnostic of Five's systems before we leave. We have to make sure it's safe." Losing their communication hub to an explosion or having it drop out of orbit was one headache he could do without.
Grabbing a first aid pack and the stretcher Scott made his way back into the station, to where Virgil was trying to rouse John. He was tapping at his cheek, speaking in an urgent tone to try and grab his attention. The other hand was pushed tightly against his side, or as tightly as was possible in zero-g.
"John, can you hear me? Come on, open your eyes if you can. Come on, John, try and open your eyes for me." Scott studied John's face, noting the slight frown amongst the scrapes and bruises.
"Any response?" Scott asked quietly, handing Virgil a bandaging pack that would put an even pressure on any open wound.
"Not really," Virgil said "he's muttering but I'm not really happy with that."
"Then we need to move him fast."
"Agreed."
"I'll set up an IV as soon as he's in board. Do you think he's lost much blood?"
"it's difficult to tell but I don't think so. We shouldn't move that shrapnel though."
With extreme care they manoeuvred their astronaut brother onto the stretcher and into the safety of Thunderbird Three. Carefully Virgil strapped him in for the flight while Scott inserted a line and connected a bag of fluids – with no blood on board it was the best they could do.
"You got a flight plan Alan?" He asked as he worked.
The younger Tracey swallowed hard at seeing John's condition but answered calmly. "Houston, Texas. They have emergency medical facilities as well as somewhere to safely land and take off in an interstellar rocket. We've got priority and they are standing by."
"Good job. Brains?"
"I don't know how but the damage is relatively minor. The main power core will need to be rebuilt but all other systems are functioning normally, if on reduced power. I'm just getting ready to unlock everything."
"That's great news." Scott leaned down to better hear as John mumbled something, hoping to catch the words, but it was too slurred. He wasn't coming round. Scott settled an oxygen mask over his mouth in the hopes it would help.
"Turn Five back on then." Scott said. "We can reroute most control for the island for now while you put together a repair plan."
"Maybe everything except EOS." Virgil suggested, strapping himself in now. "I know she's useful but I don't think now is a good time for her to come on line. Her reaction might be... extreme."
Scott thought of their first couple of encounters with the AI and her ferocious reactions to people she deemed a threat. Since John had won her trust she had mellowed, but transferred that self-preservation into John-preservation. That was mostly useful, and usually Scott wouldn't be without the strange new addition to their family, but he did not want to find out what she would do when she found out that John was on the way to the hospital, and that one of their own was involved.
"Agreed. We'll wake her up when John is able to talk to her." And dear god he hoped that was soon. "Brains?"
"FAB." the engineer confirmed.
"Then let's get going Alan. Take it easy but make it quick. I'd describe his condition as stable but critical."
The Earth rose up to hit them in the face, but Alan navigated the return to gravity with ease. John gave a groan as weight and pressure returned, but didn't stir or open his eyes. Being the closest Scott reached out to lay a hand gently on John's forehead – maybe John wouldn't get much comfort from it, but Scott did it anyway.
From where he was sat Scott could keep an eye on the readouts that were steady but still concerning. He knew what serious injuries looked like, knew when blood pressure was too low, where the vital organs were, how serious head injuries could be. He tried not to think about other people he had transported with similar. He tried not to remember if they had survived.
Alan had barely shut down the engines before a medical team had approached the giant red rocket, and whisked John swiftly away. Scott ordered Alan to secure Three, and pestered Virgil until he got his own head wound seen to after at last admitting that maybe, perhaps, his head might be hurting just a little.
Scott was escorted to a hastily cleared debriefing room - this wasn't a public hospital so comfortable waiting rooms and family support counsellors weren't a thing here. He sank into an uncomfortable chair and grasped his head with both hands. He must still be adjusting to gravity as the weight inside continued to increase, twisting around his heart and lungs, gradually turning him to stone as his little brother fought for his life.
