The takeover of the Armed Services Platform had gone as smoothly as planned. The military post was caught during a night watch, with half its crew asleep. And that late in the rotation, the on-duty crew had been relatively easy to overcome and restrain. They'd confined most of the staff, leaving only one of the station's personnel on the bridge. Vicky could only hope that Jorge and Minette had been equally successful.

Gaia had settled herself at the console controlling the station's computers. ASP–being an internationally staffed military post–had fairly standard codes and commands, and Gaia was soon ensconced in its system

"Here it is!" she said triumphantly. "I have found. . . ." Her voice trailed off, enthusiasm tempered by sudden puzzlement.

"What?" snapped Vicky.

"The problem sector. It is . . . a secure communication system," Gaia said, nonplused, "But to whom?"

"Not Earth?"

"No, it does not have the Earth-to-orbit coding nomenclature. It is station-to-station," said Gaia. Her fingers danced across the keyboard in a percussive accompaniment to her voice. She looked up at the others. "I have not seen this before, and it is secured with a code I do not have."

"Let me see." Rob nodded at Mustaf, then relinquished his guard on the prisoner. He walked over to the station, and leaned over her shoulder, reading the codes displayed "Looks like it's a private network to . . . another station?" He looked at Vicky, shaking his head in disbelief

"Another station?" Brad echoed. He had returned from his sweep of the station, and all personnel were accounted for and secured. "Why would they need a private network to another station? There's only three up here," He also looked at Vicky, his expression challenging. "Right?"

"Apparently not, "she snapped, both flustered by the discovery and trying to hide it. She glanced at the remaining crew member, who looked as puzzled as she felt. "Take him to the holding area, and bring the commanding officer back up here. He must know it. Chang, Mustaf, go with him."

Brad sketched a mocking salute at her, and they left the control center. Vicky turned to Gaia. "Can you finish your calculations?" she said. They still had to secure IWN, and the prospect of another station would necessitate some shifting of her people to cover that position.

"Oh, yes," Gaia assured her.

"Do it," Vicky ordered, "Minette and Jorge are waiting. Then you can finish breaking that system."

The new network was almost in place when Brad and Mustaf returned to the bridge, leaving Chang as guard over their hostages. Brad hadn't brought the officer, but he had brought the code. By what methods it had been acquired, Vicky wasn't going to ask. Gaia keyed it in, and continued with her systems breaking. She hummed as she worked, and the others waited in varying levels of patience.

Finally, the initial screen for the system displayed. Astonished, Gaia stared at the information displayed. "Ciò è impossibile," she gasped.

"What?" Curious, the others crowded around the console, jockeying for position in order to see the screen.

"Rob. To the view screens," she said excitedly, her English deteriorating slightly. "Here, to these settings."

He oriented the system as she directed. They watched as the view screen displayed the basic computerized outlines of another station. Not IWN, and not ISS, but a circular shape, its symmetry broken in thirds by two solar arrays and a docking arm

Vicky stared at the screen, the identity of the displayed station failing to register immediately. But the others stirred and murmured, disbelief washed over the group as a whole.

Gaia bounced in the seat. "It can't be. I can't believe it, "she sputtered, over and over.

"Real-time view," Vicky ordered. This couldn't be.

The screen blinked. Static filled it briefly, while the systems switched over to the outside sensors. Then the image of a gold-and-silver vehicle, crowned with a halo of solar arrays, filled the screen. A ring of oxygen tanks surrounded a central hub, connected to via two junction points, each bearing additional solar arrays, as well as the docking arm. Inscribed on each of those intersections was a large number five.

"Holy shit," breathed Brad, "International Rescue."

"No way," Oden leaned forward, inspecting the view screen.

"Of course!" Rob exclaimed, giving an odd little hop. "Last year. Remember?" He snapped his fingers. "There was some rumor going 'round that someone had attacked their satellite."

Some of the others looked at him curiously, having not heard that particular rumor. Mustaf, however, nodded in agreement.

"They never confirmed or denied that it happened," Rob continued, "But it left open to speculation that that's how they get to situations so quickly." He leaned forward, inspecting the display. "Wow," he added, "It's impressive."

"It makes sense," said Mustaf, "And they've got an arrangement with ASP, then."

"ASP would need to be aware of International Rescue's orbital position," said Rob, still mesmerized by Five's image. "What with all the manned and unmanned stations up here."

Amid the babble of her companions' reactions, Vicky thought furiously. Leave your options open, the General had told her. Had he known? Hastily she sorted through those options. How many on the station? Why wasn't it in the OSN network? Did it have offensive weapons? She was willing to bet on defensive, but then–as with the other stations–surprise was on her side. But four stations? Do I have sufficient people for this

Indecisive, she watched the display, her thoughts turning toward the potential gains. Increase the monetary demands, perhaps? A little extra compensation that she would not turn over to the General. The station moved serenely–almostmockingly–in its orbit. Its axis rotated slightly, displaying the words "Thunderbird 5" on its underside.

Vicky made her decision. If we don't take it, it could become a staging area for a counterattack. Better that it be under our control. Looking around at the others, she silenced them with a hand motion.

"Elnoo, head out for IWN" she said, "Take . . ." she paused, and glanced around her personnel as she considered her choices. Chang was stronger, but he was guarding the hostages. If International Rescue not on the OSN system–and if Gaia doesn't get in from this end–it would be prudent to send one of her computer experts. And she really needed Oden at IWN. " . . . Rob, Brad, and Oden."

She looked at her second-in-command, who had raised an eyebrow at her decision. "You stay at IWN, and send Brad and Rob to International Rescue." Her gaze shifted to Elnoo. "And you will return here."

Elnoo turned his sleepy gaze at her and nodded. Rob frowned, a look of concentration on his face, as if he were already in the computer systems for International Rescue. Brad grinned, and cracked his knuckles.

Only Oden's expression was concerned. "Are you sure about this, Vicky?" He glanced around at the small group. "It stretches us where we have need to stand firm."

Angered, she turned on him. "You don't think we can do this?" she retorted.

He raised an eyebrow. "'Can we' is not the question. The question is 'should we'?"

Normally Oden wasn't so cautious. Struggling to calm herself, she responded, "Think of the bargaining power. We will have a chip that no one, no one-" she emphasized, "-will expect us to have." Her mind raced ahead, calculating, and she quickly dismissed her second-in-command's comment. "And if we do not take it, it leaves us open to attack. We cannot afford that."

He shrugged, capitulating. Swinging a small backpack onto his back, he nodded to the other three, who did the same. They left the bridge, heading for the landing bay where their ship was docked. Moments later, the station shuddered faintly as the ship and its crew left for its rendevous.

"NO!" Gaia shrieked and pounded the console, startling her fellow operatives. Her fingers moved rapidly across the keyboard. She paused, then exploded with a string of Italian expletives, ending with the phrase "mucca coperta."

"What is it?" Vicky asked, unsure if she wanted to hear the translation.

"The system," Gaia spat, turning the word into an epithet. "It has a time limit for entering the code, and has now shut me out." She glanced at Vicky, concern replacing her irritation. "Unless I can break it without making further attempts here, it will have to be reset from the initiating computer."

"And that system is where?" Vicky asked, already dreading the answer.

"On Earth," Gaia confirmed mournfully. She studied the monitor, her fingers drumming impatiently on the console. "Unless," she said thoughtfully, "it can be reset from International Rescue, hm?"

"Of course! Mustaf!" Vicky turned abruptly to the man in question, "Contact the ship, and tell them what has happened." She looked down at Gaia. "Get our system up quickly. We must have contact with the other stations. It may well be that they have that same system."

This has to work. She had committed her resources, and could not pull them back, not now. And the General was waiting.

Author's notes:

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea culpa. I should have included these "definitions" after Chapter Two, rather than let you all wonder what we're talking about.

ISS - The International Space Station. Begun in 1999, a joint effort by several nations. I'm giving them all the benefit of the doubt, presuming that it will be essentially finished and running by 2020. Manned (in my story, anyway) by a permanent international crew of four, it's running almost like a college semester system, with additional civilian personnel rotating through on a fluctuating basis.

ASP - Armed Services Platform. A joint military space station, the "newest" of Terran satellites. Finished in 2018, it is manned by an international, rotating crew of 11-13, organized on a Navy watch system, with a commander and two teams. Each team consists of a junior officer, a senior non-commissioned officer, a junior NCO or senior enlisted personnel, and one or two additional enlisted personnel. There are also two medical personnel on board, who pull twelve-hour shifts.

ASP and IR have a courtesy agreement, in that ASP's CO (who undergoes VERY stringent security checks because of this) is aware of Thunderbird Five's existence and orbit (so they don't bump into each other!). ASP and IR have a private network, unaccessible by other satellites.

IWN - International World News. The smallest of the satellites, it is the brainchild of an up-and-coming news network whose latest gimmick is that they are "real" satellite news, as evidenced by their satellite. They keep a crew of two on board.