Terror From The Stars has recently been released and it was sooo good! The voices were very good impressions of the original cast and gotta say Gordon's was my fave! 3

Here we go with the next chap!

Marina stood adjacent to the long, full-length mirror and watched as her captor's staff worked diligently around her. One of the mermaidens combed her hair and another was sowing sequins and jewels into her dress as a slight male dusted glitter across her shoulders. Marina just couldn't believe that all this effort was going in to her presentation for a stranger.

An evil stranger, whom she was to MARRY.

'I have to get out of here.' she thought determinedly.

Marina's seafoam eyes subtly studied the room, trying to locate an exit. Her hope shattered when the only one she could make out from her position was the large viewing window making up the front wall of the chamber, the glass much too thick to cut through.

Knowing she wouldn't be able to do anything until leaving the room, Marina let out a sigh and stared at her solemn reflection in the mirror, hoping a chance for escape would arise before the ceremony...

Phones shuffled along the flat wall making up the staircase arch. He walked down the steps as quietly as he could so the sound of his boot heel wouldn't echo down the shaft and attract unwanted attention. Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, he entered another structure which reminded him of a boarding bridge which commercial airlines often used to board their passengers, although this one was made out of glass, surrounded by the majestic ocean.

Taking in the breathtaking view of the depths from above, Phones looked below to see some sort of submarine terminal. There were rows and rows of undersea craft docked up alongside the long underwater pontoons connected by other boarding structures quite similar to the one he stood in. On the far left were some large cranes surrounding one particularly large submarine that he recognized all too well.

"Stingray!" he gasped. It looked as though it was about a six mile walk to get to the craft from where he was standing, which worried him a bit. Would he even have time to get there without being spotted?

Probably not, which begged the question - how in Marineville would he be able to get the submarine back for them to escape?

Ten thousand plus kilometres above sea level, Alan was miffed.

Not only had he been called away on a space rescue while his brothers were out on their own dangerous rescue, but Alan's own rescue happened to be one of those really stupid, pointless rescues. One where he shouldn't have even been called out because it was so dumb and a waste of his time. One where some idiots had gotten themselves in trouble for money and were now facing the consequences. One where he'd spent twenty minutes trying to manoeuvre his sleek rocket around a narrow debris field trying to grab the smallest spacecraft in the world, with Brains suggesting calculated corrections down his ear until Alan was finally able to connect with and steady the shuttle. One where-

"Hey Alan, you alright? You zoned out there a little, buddy."

Alan felt his anger dissipate as John's ever-present chirpy voice greeted him through the radio link attached to his outfit. "I'm totally fine, John. Raring to go and all that. Has Brains secured the probe?"

"Yep, Mr Handy and his cohorts are now ready and waiting for you to board."

"What kind of name is that anyway?" Alan muttered, checking his spacesuit a fourth time to see everything was in working order. "I mean scrap dealers. Space scrap dealers! What kind of idiot tries to steal a brand new NASA probe from right under NASA's nose? It's brand new! Start small or something." he rolled his eyes and John chuckled.

"Boy you're an unhappy bunny today, aren't you, Al'?"

"Yeah, well, these guys called me out at an inopportune time. Normally I'm so excited for any chance of performing a rescue, but tonight- man, I just can't think straight."

John let out a little sigh and turned serious for a moment. "Look Alan, I know you're worried about them - heck, so am I! But we have work to do right now and that's your main priority. Focus."

John's steely voice is all Alan needed to snap himself out of his mood. "F.A.B. John, and thanks."

"You're welcome, kiddo! You ready to go out?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"Just don't go punching the guy."

"Now would I do a thing like that?" Alan replied sarcastically, causing John to snort. "Tell Brains I'm ready for my spacewalk."

"Okie dokie!"

Smiling at his brother's farewell, Alan took a moment to stare out of Three's hatch window. He could see the curved horizon of Earth in the window panel and for a brief moment felt a lull of tranquility wash over him. He just loved being in space. It was a privilege.

"Brains is opening the airlock door. Good luck, fella!"

"Love you, John." Alan's sincerity surfaced as the airlock door swooshed open. He connected his line to Thunderbird 3's hatch railing before making the short journey across to the tin-can of a spaceship he and Brains had rescued.

John remained silent as he watched his brother at work, thinking fondly about Alan's heartwarming slip of the tongue. The Tracy brothers loved and cared for each other dearly, but rarely vocalized it unless the time was right.

John decided that time was now.

Alan swam across the vastness of space until he landed on the smaller aircraft's hatch door. He connected another line to it to save him from drifting away and the airlock door opened, allowing him access. He entered the airlock, waited for it to pressurize, then walked into the cabin. Alan was greeted with an enthusiastic pat on the back.

"Thank you, oh thank you for rescuing us!" a bulky man cheered with a heavy accent the Tracy couldn't quite place. Sounded North European, or something. Maybe Russian? Alan was no language or accent expert for that matter.

The second, red-haired man stepped forward. "Diolch yn fawr iawr am ein hachub!"

Alan could have sworn what the man had said was supposed to be in some sort of language.

"Uh... I'm here to rescue you, Mr Handy, and your, um, crew."

The second man who had spoke in his native tongue laughed heartily. "Well that's very kind of you, sport. That's what you get for accidently colliding with a space station." he lied in a thick accent, Alan still not understanding him. "What do you need us to do?"

"Um... yes. I need to attach a line to your spaceship so I can tow you in. Comprendo lingo?"

The crew just stared at Alan like he'd just insulted them.

"Do you understand me?" Alan desperately wished polyglot John was in his place right about now.

"Bloody yank, we're not thick!" the Welshman snorted, "Get everything sorted, Sven, and do what the young man says!"

"Yes, boss!"

Alan resisted the urge to facepalm.