Chapter 10

Gordon became increasingly nervous as they approached the top of the earth's atmosphere. Tin-Tin had changed into her overalls, and Gordon into his IR uniform.
"Can you carry a laser rifle, Tin-Tin?" asked Gordon.

"Of course."

"Okay, so a rifle each, two pistols, and five stun grenades."

"Check."

"And stay behind me!"

"Yes, Gordon. But-" She was cut off.
"What the hell are those?" yelled Gordon. The space sensors were now effective as they were outside the denser layers of atmosphere. On his scanner was the image of Thunderbird 3, and two more objects between it and Thunderbird 3. Each object was marked with a strange insignia. One seemed to have an extending section that covered the Thunderbird 3 docking port on the satellite. The gap was closing; it would not be long before Gordon would be able to see Thunderbird 5 for himself. He had to think fast.

"Thunderbird 5 from Thunderbird 3. Come in Alan!"

"Gordon!" Alan's voice was interspersed with the sound of small explosions. "I'm under attack!"

"We're almost there kiddo! Hang on!" shouted Gordon, and looked at Tin-Tin. She was staring at the viewer. Alan's picture was dark, and she could not see whether he was hurt.

"What's your situation?"

"I'm in the armoury! I can't hold on much longer!"

"Arming weapons!" said Gordon in a low voice. A targeting screen replaced Alan's image, and Gordon locked on to the gantry extending from one of the ships.

"Unidentified craft from International Rescue! Desist and leave the area!" Gordon broadcast on all frequencies. This caused one of the crafts to turn, and fire on Thunderbird 3. The vessel emitted a blast of light, which seemed to surround Thunderbird 3, and then impact from all sides, like a ball of lightning. Tin-Tin and Gordon were tossed like rag dolls, though fortunately their seatbelts kept them in their seats. One of the engine warning lights lit up on his panel. It had been damaged by the blast, but not severely.

"What the hell was that? Well there goes diplomacy!" yelled Gordon, and retargeted his weapons on the vessel attacking him.

"Firing!" he yelled, and two fat laser beams immediately cut into the hull of the enemy vessel. It moved away from the station, and badly damaged, tried to flee.
"Oh, no you don't!" growled Gordon, and fired again. This time he struck one of the engine plants, and the vessel exploded into a tiny pieces. Tin-Tin was shocked, but Gordon's face was unchanged as he manoeuvred his craft around the rear of the satellite. He targeted his lasers on the metal tube between the two craft.

Tin-Tin drew in breath, sharply. "What if the airlock is open?"

"No. You can't have both doors open at once." He fired his weapon. This time, a single, much finer laser erupted from the craft, and finely sliced the tube in two. Gordon immediately fired on the other vessel. It turned and fired another ball lightning weapon. Damage warning sirens were going off on Thunderbird 3. Gordon seemed oblivious, and pursued the craft. Smoke filled the cockpit, and Tin-Tin coughed, but again, Gordon was unaffected. He followed his target true, and fired again at very close range. The ship exploded into smithereens, and some of the larger pieces smashed into Thunderbird 3, buffeting it around. Gordon fought for control. Some more debris smashed into Thunderbird 5, inverting it. Gordon steered back for the satellite. A hose and some wiring fell from the ceiling, ripping down the side of Gordon's chair. Sparks flew from one of the walls, and a small fire started. He pulled on a lever, and the fire was extinguished.

"Alan! Come in!" hollered Gordon. There was no reply. Tin-Tin, still coughing, gave him a concerned look. Gordon put his hand on hers, and tapped it gently. He flipped some switches, and the smoke began to clear as the craft lurched around in the direction of Thunderbird 5. The ship juddered from turning so tightly in such a small circle with a damaged engine. Heading back for the satellite, Gordon used his lasers once more to cut away the remains of the access tube which had come from one of the ships.

"For God's sake, Alan, talk to me!" said Gordon as he shoved the nose of his craft into the docking port. There was a horrible scraping sound as the last crumpled pieces of metal from the access tube scraped up the nose cone. Large pieces of orange metal swarf gathered into coils, and came to rest on the window.

When they came to a stop, Gordon and Tin-Tin both made for the door.
"Stay behind me!" ordered Gordon. Tin-Tin nodded. They headed through the airlock, and emerged in a dim Thunderbird 5. The emergency lights were flickering on and off, and the walls were peppered with charred marks and holes. The floor was covered in tiny pieces of metal, and it was like walking on scree. Gordon heard crunching footsteps.
"Alan?" he asked. He held up his arm, to which a torch was attached, and shone it across the room. The communications console was in pieces, as if it had been entirely taken apart. The door to the crew quarters was lying on the floor, and the door to the armoury had a large hole burned into it.
"Alan!" called Tin-Tin. There was no reply. The crunching sound moved closer, and Gordon shone his torch at the ground.
"What the-"

Something leapt at Gordon and pushed him backwards. He sank a few inches into the gravel, and lost his pistol. He could not get to his other weapons, as the creature was pressing on his arms. Gordon screamed. The beast was like a large, metal spider, with a semi-living body. It was trying to push something into Gordon's neck. He struggled underneath it for dear life.

Tin-Tin shut one eye and made aim with her pistol at the middle of the creature. She fired one long, continuous blast. For a few seconds the creature was held motionless, and Gordon managed to scramble free. Then it was destroyed, and blew into pieces indistinguishable from those littering the floor. Gordon jumped to his feet, and rubbed his neck.
"Thanks, Tin-Tin!"

"No problem. Let's find Alan."

They crunched their way around the base. Tin-Tin paused and filled a small container with some of the debris from the floor. Ever practical, she also filmed the station, and tore the computer memory cards out and folded them into her overalls.

"I think they're all gone, Tin-Tin," said Gordon, and relaxed slightly. They finally made their way to the armoury. At first glance, it was empty. But they saw a cream piece of material poking out of the somewhat larger pile of debris in the small room. Gordon jumped onto the heap, and behind it found Alan unconscious, squeezed in between the wall and one of the weapon racks. There was a large pile of guns and spent fuel cells in front of him.

"Alan!" yelled Gordon, and slapped his face.

Alan opened his eyes a tiny amount. "Gordon!" he whispered weakly. "There are ships outside! We're under attack!"

"We got them, kiddo. Gordon held his torch up to examine Alan closely. His uniform jacket was ripped, revealing his cut and bruised chest. His head was cut open, and blood was dripping from his mouth, and there was a large, circular wound on his neck.

"Oh shit!" said Gordon, louder than he had meant to.
"What?" croaked Alan.

"Nothing, Alan. What happened?"

"They were like living machines! Made of metal, but alive! They kept on coming at me, thousands of them. I kept shooting and shooting, but they kept coming! They tore at me, trying to get to my neck! I just couldn't fight them any more. There were too many!" said Alan, upset.

"You did good, kid. Come on, let's get you out of here." Gordon pulled Alan into the main room by his arms. He grimaced but did not cry out.
"Tin-Tin!" he said when he saw her. His pained face became more serene, and he smiled up at her. "What are you doing here?"
"I thought I'd take you up on your offer."

"Thanks. Sorry, if I'd have known I would have cleaned the place up a little."

Tin-Tin smiled, relieved.

Alan was helped to his feet by Gordon and Tin-Tin, and the three walked back to Thunderbird 3 with Alan's arms around the other two.

"Who's going to man Thunderbird 5?" asked Alan, weakly.

"I wouldn't worry about that, Alan. I think IR is going to be out of action for a while," said Gordon.

"Oh!" said Alan, disappointed. They laid him on the couch in the lounge.

"What the hell did you do to my TBird, Gordon?" he asked. Gordon smiled at him sheepishly, and he quickly fell asleep.

"Keep and eye on him, Tin-Tin," asked Gordon.

"Thank you, Gordon," she replied, and started to clean up Alan's face.

Gordon headed back to the station, and checked that no further damage would be done if they left it. He went to switch the communications to relay to base, but it was totally unserviceable. He sighed as he thought about the space hours he would have to put in fixing Thunderbird 5 up, but his concerns were quickly replaced by his fears for his family back on Tracy Island. He went back to his craft, and tried to contact home. Communications were out. Gordon shook his head with worry, and set a course for home.