A/N - It's been waaay too long since I wrote something shorter. Although I'm starting to think this may end up longer than I had anticipated. We shall see!

Disclaimer - Thunderbirds are property of Gerry and Sylvia Anderson, not me.

BTW this is set after one of my other stories, Hello Gravity, Old Friend, but you don't need to read it to understand this one, it just elaborates on why John can't go along.

A hand flew across the keyboard and Mars zoomed past on the screen as the image moved into the asteroid belt beyond it. As one of the larger asteroids spun around a spaceship, the Infinity, could be seen parked on its surface, and it was on this that the camera focused.

"There!" John said triumphantly. "See, told you I would find it."

Over his shoulder, Alan, his carbon copy and younger brother, snorted as he peered at the screen. "Oh come on, I could have found that in half the time!"

"Quite possibly..." John chuckled. "But you do have the advantage kiddo. You have use of both hands." He lifted up his left arm, the forearm of which was encased in plaster, lasting evidence of his run-in with gravity on the family snowboard trip three weeks earlier and it had been annoying him ever since. Not only did it make every single thing he did twice as difficult, it also itched like hell.

As he stuck his fingers under the edge of the cast, trying desperately to scratch an itch which was just out of reach, Alan leaned over and tapped on the keyboard, changing the image on the screen to a map which showed a wider view of the solar system, as well as both the Infinity and Thunderbird 5.

"Still all good?" John asked, opening a nearby drawer and patting around inside for something that would fit under his cast, grinning as he pulled out a long, thick cable tie.

"Yep. Another half hour or so and we can be off." Reaching down, Alan snatched the cable tie out of his brother's hand just before he could stick it under his cast, much to John's annoyance. Twirling it in his fingers, he used it to point to the curved flight path drawn between the two vessels. "It's a straight run along here, get a speed boost as we go around Mars, and we should arrive right next to them in just under six hours. Simple."

"Simple." John agreed, resorting to sticking his fingers back under his cast. He sighed. "Oh, I wish I was coming with you. It's not very often I get a chance to have a look at NASA's new ships anymore, let alone get to have a poke around in them. Especially the Infinity. That thing is the pride of the fleet. The first workable prototype of ships with the capability to allow humans to leave the solar system."

"I know. What are the chances that it gets struck by a rogue meteor and has to do an emergency landing on it's maiden voyage? Still, gives me a chance to fly Three further than this place, she needs a long run." Alan said, before sighing deeply. "I wish you could come. It'll be loads more fun with you along, but... it looks like I'll have to settle for the alternative instead." He looked behind him as, right on cue, the sound of bootsteps echoed along the corridor ring and Scott appeared in the control room from his most recent walk around the station.

"Will you quit doing that?" John snapped, spinning around in his chair to face his only older brother. "You're gonna wear a hole in the deck plating with all that pacing of yours!"

"How much longer are we going to have to stay here?" Scott asked, wringing his hands nervously. "I mean, surely the rock the Infinity is on position by now."

The two of them rolled their eyes. "Not much longer now, Scott." Alan replied. "I don't know, you have no problem with shooting around the world in an aircraft going multiple times the speed of sound but if you have to go further into space than Thunderbird 5 you turn into a gibbering wreck!"

"I am not a gibbering wreck!" Scott exclaimed indignantly. "It's just... after that near-disaster with the Sun Probe, I've come to realise that even the tiniest thing happening can leave you stranded a very long way away from home, with little to no chance of escape. So I'm just a little uneasy, that's all."

Alan shook his head in despair, leaning forward and resting it on John's shoulder, muttering just loud enough for the older blond to hear. "I've got six hours there and six hours back with this guy, not to mention replacing the tank itself... Honestly... International Rescue's Field Commander, scared of a little space mission!"

Twisting awkwardly, John managed to pat Alan on the head with his good arm. "Good luck kiddo. If I could have come with you, I would have done. Now could you please get Scott out of here? He needs something to distract him and if he keeps pacing around here much longer I'm gonna break my other arm by punching him extremely hard!"

"Yeah, ok." Alan muttered, straightening up and moving towards the pilot. "Come on Scott, let's go make sure Three's ready to fly, we'll be leaving soon."

"About time..." Scott grumbled as he was steered towards the airlock.

"Er, Al, can I have my cable tie back?" John asked hopefully, his arm was really annoying him now.

"Nope! It's mine now." Alan replied cheerfully, waving the aforementioned piece of plastic in the air before popping it into a pocket. "You never know, it may come in useful." And with a clang and a hiss, he and Scott were gone, having moved into the red rocket docked outside.

"Great..." John moaned, turning back to the control panel, once again attempting to ignore the burning itch that seemed to spread under his cast. He flicked a few switches and looked at one of the blank screens next to him, waiting for his hail to be answered. He didn't have to wait long.

"Go ahead John." His father, Jeff Tracy, head of International Rescue, answered as he appeared on the screen.

"Three will be leaving within the next half hour. The asteroid the Infinity is on will be reaching it perigee in just under five hours, which, if Alan follows the flight plan, will mean they will meet up right where they are meant to."

"Excellent. I'll get onto NASA and tell them the good news then." Jeff nodded.

"Still doing favours for your mates there?"

"Well, only one of them. Jason Yorktown in fact."

"Jason Yorktown?" John spluttered. "The head of NASA himself?"

"The one and only." Jeff grinned. "We keep in contact from time to time. We started there at about the same time you know. Did quite a few missions with him. He stayed on after I quit, climbed his way up the ladder and the next thing we know he's head of the whole thing. And when I heard about the problem with the Infinity I called him up and offered our services. After all, we do have a rocket on permanent standby, we can get there quicker than they can."

"You...offered our services?" John said slowly, not quite believing what he had just heard. Wasn't his father's first rule not to reveal their involvement in International Rescue to anyone, friends or not?

"Oh don't worry about it." Jeff laughed. "He's trustworthy. He knew about this thing from the start. In fact, it was him I used to spout off my crazy ideas to about this when we were on the really long missions. Plus, he also my main contact for getting spare parts for all the Birds. Without him, keeping this operation afloat would be a hell of a lot more difficult. Besides, I owed him a favour."

"Oh. Ok then."

"Now, is there anything else?"

John thought for a second, remembering something. "Oh, yeah, there is. Is Virgil free?"

"I believe so. Last thing I remember is that he was 'helping' Grandma make some brownies."

"Read as, trying to get his paws on them so he can scoff them all!" John laughed.

"Got it in one! If you don't mind me asking, why do you need him? Is your wrist causing you trouble?" Jeff asked, his brow furrowing slightly with concern

John quickly pulled his fingers out from under the cast, having not even realised that they were under there, his subconscious had been trying to stop that damned itching again. "Oh no, it's fine. I just need to tell him something that's all. I'll call his watch up now, I'm sure Grandma will be glad of the distraction!"

"I'm sure she will." Jeff agreed. "I'll talk to you later then. Base out." He flicked a switch his end and cut the connection, the screen going blank. Pulling his sleeve as best he could over his cast, John pressed a button, connecting him through to his immediate younger brother.

"Hiya John." Virgil answered, and John couldn't help but notice that he had a large red mark on one cheek. "How's the arm?"

"Itchy..." John admitted. He grinned, cocking his head to one side. "I'm guessing your brownie thievery was unsuccessful then?"

Virgil's other cheek turned red with embarrassment. "Yeah. Grandma got me really hard with her spatula..."

"I can see that. I so hope that bruises."

"I love you too..." Virgil muttered sarcastically, rubbing at his cheek. "Now, was there anything you wanted, or did you just call me up to take the mickey?"

John leaned back in his chair. "Have you noticed recently that Scott has been avoiding space missions? He only comes out as far as Five now."

"Now that you mention it, yes! Ever since that whole 'passing out and almost flying straight into the Sun' thing from that Sun Probe mission."

"Well, it would seem that it's simply because he's scared."

Virgil's jaw hit the floor. "Scared?"

"Yep. Mr 'Tough Guy' Scott Tracy, 'I'm not scared of anything' Tracy, Field Commander Tracy, is scared of a simple space mission to replace a fuel tank. Nothing else, nothing more!"

"What...what is he scared of?" Virgil stammered, still gobsmacked.

"God knows..." John sighed. "But all I know is he's jumpier than a flea and almost wore himself a path through to the gravity plating with all his pacing. I've managed to convince Al to take him back to Three, he was getting on my nerves."

"Sure that isn't just the itchy arm talking?" The medic chuckled. "Still... fancy that. Scott scared of a little space mission... Those things are probably a hell of a lot safer than some of the stuff he gets up to down here."

"I know. Do you reckon we should tell Gords?" They looked at each other for a moment, before bursting out in laughter. "Who am I kidding? Oh course we should!"

"Shall I or shall you?" Virgil said once he had stopped laughing.

"You do it." John said. "I need to contact the Infinity and let them know Three will soon be on her way."

"You do that. I'll track down Gords. When he gets back, Scott is going to wish that he stayed in space."

"What? And leave his precious Thunderbird in your hands? No chance! He'd come back even if fire and brimstone was raining down!"

"True, true." Virgil nodded. "He is a tad overprotective of One."

"And you're not when it comes to Two?"

"You can talk!"

"Yes, I can, can't I? I talk way too much for my own good, especially when I have work to do. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a spaceship to get a hold of."

"All right. Let me know when Scott and Alan are on their way home will you?"

"Will do. Five out." The screen went blank again, leaving the space station in silence aside from the ever-constant hum of machinery that kept it going. Spinning in his chair, John's good hand moved across the various control panels. This call was a lot more technical to do than a simple one home, but with the advanced technology that was available on Thunderbird 5, it wasn't too difficult as long as you know what you are doing.

"International Rescue to Infinity." He said into the microphone, grateful of the advances that had been made in the field of spacial communications, at least there would be no delay, unlike in the early days of space exploration when it took anywhere from 15 to 25 minutes just for radio waves to reach Mars, let alone beyond it into the asteroid belt where this stricken ship was.

"This is the Infinity. We're reading you loud and clear." The reply came a few seconds later. "It's good to hear from you."

"And you. How is the situation over there?"

"It could be worse. That meteor seemed to come out nowhere and ripped a gash right along our primary fuel tank. We managed to set down before we vented all our fuel but we cut it close. Thankfully our life support and operational systems run off the reactor we've got in here, and as far as our two engineers can tell, that's not damaged, so we're just marooned.

"Any injuries as a result of the impact?"

"No sir, all seven crew members are safe and accounted for."

John let out a silent sigh of relief. Yes, he had already been told the crew were safe, but there was nothing like getting the confirmation yourself. "Well, you'll all be glad to know that Thunderbird 3 will be launching soon. It should be with you in just under six and a half hours."

"Well, that's excellent news! I'll tell you on thing, you guys are certainly efficient. If it weren't for you, I'd reckon we'd be drifting for a week before NASA even launched anything!"

John chuckled in agreement. He had worked for NASA before leaving to join his father's organisation, he knew first hand that nothing was ever done quickly, not even when needs dictated it. The paperwork involved for one thing... "It was a coincidence really. We had a rocket, your guys had a spare tank. Oh, and apparently, according to my, er, boss, we owed you a favour."

"Just as well I suppose. It means we can get going sooner rather than later."

"That's what we hope to achieve. Now, my two colleagues in Thunderbird 3 will be in contact with you once they enter the asteroid belt. They plan to land about a kilometre or so away from you and use the hover lifts to walk the tank over to you. If your engineers could assist them, I'm sure the job will be done before you know it."

"I'll inform them to get ready and start getting into their spacesuits. Thank you International Rescue."

"You're welcome. It's what we're here for. Now, if you have any further problems, don't hesitate to call."

"We'll keep that in mind. Infinity out."

The speakers fell silent once again and John sat back and looked out through the viewing window out into the vast expanse stretching out beyond the space station. His eyes instinctively rested on Mars, which from here seemed to be nothing more than a large bright star. Perhaps Scott had a point, he thought. When home was nothing more than a speck of light in the distance, the simple hope of rescue could seem extremely far-fetched.