Thomas R. Skidmore

trs1972

DOCTOR WHO

"Sunfreeze"

In the quietness of the galaxy cluster JNT-8089, a lonely space station hung above the sun lying in the center of that particular solar systen. At first glance one would get the impression that the sun's heat and powerful glimmer might easily spell doom for the station and any inhabitants assumed to dwell inside but further inspection doubtless proved futile in more ways than one. Whatever secrets the station kept, few if any dared to peer inside.

And within the station itself, the quietness was mutually shared save for a faint humming emanating from the advanced machinery buried deep behind the metallic walls and corridors. There was nary a sign of life or activity, and whoever was in charge felt determined to keep it that way.

But that forced quiet was soon shattered by the sound of a craft materializing, a wheezing noise resembling the sound of crying elephants. That was later followed by a blue box with the markings "Police Public Call Box" above every perimeter; to those few who knew otherwise, in actuality it was a vehicle, specifically a time-ship called the TARDIS (for Time And Relative Dimension In Space).

In theory, a TARDIS should be able to blend in with any external surrounding but this particular TARDIS didn't quite get the message in time, for upon landing on Earth in the year 1963 the ship's "Chameleon Circuit" somehow malfunctioned, leaving the ship frozen in the police box form.

Suddenly from the ship two doors opened, and out emerged a tall, blond young-looking man wearing an Edwardian cricket outfit. To his friends, he's from the race of beings known as the Time Lords hailing from the distant planet Gallifrey, and calls himself the Doctor, now in his fifth incarnation for he was in fact hundreds of years old.

(As is generally known, Time Lords have a special life process called "regeneration," wherein a Time Lord undergoes a biomorphic process and changes the physical appearance, once the previous body reaches old age, is diseased, or critically injured).

Whirling around to the TARDIS' interior, the Doctor called out.

"Tegan! Turlough! Come on out of there."

The first other being to step out was Tegan, a former Australian flight attendant who more than often displayed a brash, abrasive personality. Her short brown hair and glimmering brown eyes complimented her casual outfit, which consisted of a white floral shirt, black leather mini-skirt, and high-heeled shoes. She was soon followed by a red-haired young man named Turlough. In the guise of a teenage English schoolboy, he in reality wass an exiled alien from the world known as Trion (a fact unknown as yet to his fellow travellers) sent to Earth as punishment for a crime he didn't know he committed.

"All right, where are we this time?" asked Tegan with a hiss.

"Well, judging from the immediate surroundings I'd most likely to say we're in a factory of some sort." He noticed Turlough casually wandering toward a series of blinking lights and displays on a distant monitor. Swiftly he grabbed the young redhead alien.

"And just what do you think you're gazing at?"

"Uh, may I ask a question which you might think is stupid?" queried Turlough.

"Oh, go ahead. I know you will anyway," sighed the Doctor heavily with a dramatic exaggeration.

"Well, I overheard you tell Tegan we've landed in a factory, right? Well, since when do factories have highly advanced computer display screens?"

"By most accounts, most factories I know are about as high-tech as a piggy bank," replied the Doctor, yet he retracted his thought as he darted his head toward Turlough's direction. "Ah, you're right. Let's see what this says, shall we?" He summoned Tegan to join them.

"Nice. But what's this go to do with anything?" she asked skeptically as she peered intently but with mild bemusement.

"Just give me a minute to figure this out, okay?"

Tegan shrugged her shoulders as the Doctor pressed on the touch screen, looking at one command function after another. Turlough grew more entranced by each moment, oblivious to all around them. Out of nowhere a loud droning sound echoed all around the chamber, piercing the trio's ears.

"Doctor! What's going on?" yelled Tegan.

"Trouble."

The siren's wail was soon followed by a series of metallic footsteps, slowly marching closer to the trio. Each clanging sound grew more intense, especially to Tegan's sensitive ears, yet it was Turlough who first gazed upon the sight that met their faces.

"Uh, Doctor, Tegan, you might want to take a look ahead," he said.

The Doctor and Tegan followed Turlough's finger and soon felt their eyes widen ever so slightly. For the sight they beheld was a silver metallic figure, about six feet tall, with green luminescent eyes, narrow oral slit that passed for a mouth, and a small nose-like feature.

Its shiny body displayed a detailed musculature, and the chest and hips were evidently of a feminine nature that proved momentarily arousing for Turlough; however, the gynoid didn't escape Tegan's cold, angry gaze. One swift turn of the Doctor's head was enough to jolt Turlough back to reality.

"What is the matter with you, Turlough?!" snapped the Doctor harshly.

"Nothing, but I do have this question. Where did she come from?" responded Turlough.

The Doctor sighed hard and heavy, with all the exaggeration at his disposal.

"For future reference, Turlough, both you and Tegan must be made to understand that before departing the TARDIS next time, all of your questions must be submitted in writing." He looked to Tegan apologetically. "No offense, Tegan."

"None taken," said Tegan dismissively.

The conversation ended when the gynoid drew herself closer to the TARDIS crew.

"Follow me. Walk this way," commanded the android.

"Been listening to a bit of some Aerosmith, have we?" snorted Tegan.

The gynoid turned and stared hard.

"You're not very funny, human." She whirled around in the other direction. "Now follow me, and no more talk."

With the greatest of reluctance, the time-travelling trio did as the gynoid ordered though Turlough showed less such reluctance than the others . . .

Soon the quartet walked down a dark, dank gangway toward a large doorway marked "PRIVATE," and the female gynoid activated a button on the side control panel. Immediately a shrill noise emenated from the speaker, followed by a gruff, low-toned male voice.

"Yes, what is it now?!"

"Sir, we have intruders on board the station," replied the gynoid without any emotion.

A pause was briefly felt until the other voice resumed speaking.

"Intruders, huh? Oh joy, what else is new?" said the other voice blandly, which was followed by another pause. "Oh very well, I'll tend to it."

Within seconds the doorway whirred open, and from the hidden room stepped a tall man, gray-haired, his eyes steely grey-blue, and seven-day-old gray stubble on his semi-wrinkled face. A heavily creased blue-and-green jumpsuit encased his thin, almost sickly form. Those very steely grey-blue eyes suddenly flashed with intense emotion.

"Who the hell are you?!" he hissed.

The Doctor stepped forth, his friendly hand outstretched.

"How do you do? I'm called the Doctor, and with me are my associates Tegan and Turlough." After he said his pleasantries, the Doctor shifted his mental focus. "Now who, may I ask, are you, sir?"

"The name's Stemar. Just Stemar," replied the old man, in a harsh American accent.

"Is that Captain Stemar, Mr. Stemar, or Lt. Stemar?" asked the Doctor.

"I told you once already, pal, it's just Stemar. Stemar. No captain, mister, lieutenant, or even cadet. Just plain Stemar. Are you satisfied?!"

"Ah . . . yes, I think that'll do for now." The Doctor re-shifted his eyes on the gynoid. "Not to be overly nosy, uh, Stemar, but how did you manage to accrue your android?"

"Oh, you mean Connie, right? Well, she's not just my android servant. Call her more of a . . . special companion." A small smile crossed Stemar's face.

"I don't see how that's possible," retorted Turlough, his face in a perverted smirk.

"How what's possible?" asked Stemar blankly.

"Oh, you know." That last remark from Turlough earned him a very sharp look of anger from both the Doctor and Tegan.

"And you wonder why I don't take you anywhere you want to go," hissed the Doctor. "But this is really a first for me."

"Could we stay on the subject as to why you're here?!" complained Stemar bitterly.

"Ah yes, that," replied the Doctor. "Well, we just stumbled our way through all Space and Time and -"

This sparked Stemar's curiosity.

"Wait a minute, Doctor. Did you just say you travel throughout Space and Time?"

"In a nutshell, yes."

Stemar's curiosity instantly grew into skepticism.

"You do know, of course, that time travel is at best a pipe dream, and at worst the ravings of a total lunatic, am I not right?"

"I used to think the same thing," interjected Tegan, "until I step into the TARDIS."

"TARDIS? What the hell is that?" queried Stemar.

"It's our means of transport. Time And Relative Dimensions In Space," said Turlough.

The Doctor, feeling more than a little bit left out of the ensuing conversation, decided to change the subject abruptly.

"Yes, I'm sure we're all having a smashingly good time, but could we please get on as to why Stemar wants to interrogate us all."

"Oh yeah, that's right," replied Stemar. "Now why did you really arrive here? You're not from the American Earth Federation, are you?"

"No. Why do you ask? What's so important about a semi-derelict space station floating about in the cosmos?" asked the Doctor. "Besides, I've never heard of the American Earth Federation."

"You don't say," snorted Stemar.

"Oh, but I do say. That organization just doesn't register with me."

A cold, dark smile formed on Stemar's face.

"Well . . . I would like to show you my experiment, Doctor, but since you're a stranger here I'm afraid I would also have to take you and your associates out of the picture." Another brief pause. "Unless you're extremely good at keeping secrets."

"Well, I can definitely assure you that whatever you do with your own resources is, of course, your own personal affair, but I must warn you right now I'm the worst person in the universe to get one's curiosity going," stated the Doctor with finality.

The dark smile on Stemar's face glistened . . .

Stemar and the gynoid Connie marched the Doctor and his friends into the private room, which housed a small command console. The main viewing portal, heavily tinted, displayed the the sun directly in front, while computers blinked out information regarding sundry station functions such as orbital positioning, biological sightings on the planets and moons below, and records of incoming communiques with Earth. To the Doctor's mind it proved mildly curious, whereas Turlough and especially Tegan found the room to be aesthetically displeasing.

"This is where I work, Doctor. Where I rule," said Stemar proudly.

"Quite a nice little bungalow you have here, Stemar," replied the Doctor. "Now, what's this experiment you're devising?"

Turning his steely gaze around, Stemar remained as calm as ever.

"Your directness is somewhat admirable, Doctor, but it's laced with a lot of annoying impatience."

"Why shouldn't he be impatient? It's in his nature, right?" asked Tegan.

Before Stemar prepared to harshly rebuke her, the Doctor intervened.

"You'll have to excuse my associate for her bluntness, but she's quite correct. Patience was never exactly my strongest asset."

"I see," muttered Stemar. "All right, no harm done." He sat down at the console desk, programming the computers which fulfilled their functions to his satisfaction. "Take a look at the sun out there, Doctor. Why do you think my viewing portal's so focused on it?'

The Doctor had no idea, and the looks from Tegan and Turlough echoed that sentiment.

"I don't readily know. In fact, I'm at a bit of a blank," he uttered.

Stemar spun his chair very slowly, his dark smile planted firmly on his wizened face.

"Of course you're at a blank, Doctor. You remember me telling you that if I revealed my plan, you'd live to regret it, right?"

"Well, not quite in that manner, but yes, we do recall, thanks," said Turlough.

Stemar flickered a stern stare at the red-haired young companion.

"I wasn't talking to you, hot-shot!"

"Now wait just a damn minute here!" boomed Tegan. "The only one who can yell at Turlough is me!" She faced her friend. "No offense."

"None taken," replied Turlough.

The exchange taxed the Doctor's patience even further.

"Now look, could we get on with this other matter?!"

"I agree!" hollered Stemar.

With sudden swiftness the gynoid Connie strode toward her human superior.

"Now Stemar, remember your blood pressure. You can't handle too much stressful excitement," she cooed softly.

"You don't say," uttered Stemar icily

"Don't get cute, sweet cheeks."

"Well, Stemar, speaking as a Doctor," stated the Doctor, "I'm inclined to agree with your companion. Now please, for the sake of everything, Stemar, would you get on with showing us your experiment?"

"Yeah, before we fall asleep here," remarked Tegan.

"Boy, you're really persistent, ain't you? I bet you were the original ninety-eight pound nerd chosen to be class valedictorian, weren't you?" Stemar sighed with the most amount of exaggeration available. "Oh, very well. I'll show you the heart of my experiment, just to keep you all quiet." He turned and gazed hard at the Doctor. "Especially you, class nerd!"

"Lead on, Stemar. And please, don't ever call me 'class nerd' again," said the Doctor.

"Yeah, whatever milks your Guernsey. Come on, let's get it overwith."

Soon Stemar and Connie led the Doctor, Tegan, and Turlough out of the control room, down a long, darkened corridor, and then three flights of stairs toward a hidden section of the station's engine room.

"Watch your step, people, it's a tight fit," said Stemar.

The quintet squeezed through a small opening which led to a large circular room housing a device resembling a highly advanced laser particle beam emitter. Below the machine sat a special screen tinted with ultraviolet mesh within a polarized mirrored lens of a type only seen in the advanced satellites designed by the American space organization NASA. Overall, the sight impressed the Doctor to almost infinite levels; however, Tegan and Turlough felt a sense of foreboding apprehension and dread.

"You desperately wanted to see this, Doctor. Well, here it is." He pointed outward. "Meet my great experiment. This is Project Sunfreeze." Stemar spread his arms extravagantly. "What do you think now, Doctor?"

For the first time since the landing, the Doctor was rendered speechless.

Tegan and Turlough felt their collective jaws drop to the floor upon hearing Stemar's experiment, while a growing sense of terror bubbled inside the Doctor. He'd run into many sorts of power-hungry people before, but Stemar seemed to take the proverbial cake. Casually he walked closer to Stemar.

"Ah, so this is what you've been spending federal tax dollars on, I see. Well, it looks like the investors will get a big surprise, won't they?" said the Doctor, feigning as much calm as he could muster.

"Oh, I assure you of the accuracy of your statement. Doctor. Everyone I'll come into contact with will get the biggest surprise of their lives. Unless of course, um, they decide to, shall we say, offer a small protection token."

"Protection from what, if I may ask?" queried Turlough.

A thick pause permeated the chamber housing Project Sunfreeze.

"You see what's in front of you all, right? I intend to use this to literally freeze the suns of every planet in every system who doesn't fall in line with my line of thinking," said Stemar smugly.

"That's out-and-out blackmail, you bastard!" screeched Tegan.

Stemar shifted his eyes back to the Doctor.

"You'd better teach your associate to watch her mouth, or else she's going to eat laundry detergent." He gazed to Tegan. "You'll do well to remember that, young lady."

"I'll give you one good guess on what you can kiss, buster!" she hissed.

The Doctor stepped between the sparring pair.

"That's quite enough of this, Tegan." He darted his head to Stemar. "I do have a very pressing question on my mind, so don't think I'm stupid for asking this."

"Oh? And just what is that supposedly pressing question you're so damn anxious to ask?"

"Well, as you know every sun is comprised by highly flammable, intensely heated gases with no visible core, am I not correct?"

"So? What else is new, professor?" snorted Stemar.

"Yeah, what's your point, Doctor?" echoed Tegan.

"My point is that one simply can't cool the temperatures of any sun, no matter how advanced the technology or how powerful the particle beam diffuser. In other words, to use the old proverb, that's like trying to freeze Hell itself."

"Really? You don't say," snorted Stemar again.

"Oh, I do wish you'd stop saying that. Anyway, how would your insane plan work? Which star system would you ultimately use this device on? As if I didn't know."

"And I wish you didn't make me repeat myself over and over again. I told you countless times to watch that sun below us." He smirked with high arrogance. "There'll be a hot time in the old time tonight. Or to be more semantically precise, real cool, man."

Tegan leaned closer to the Doctor, her brown eyes showing signs of fear.

"Can't you stop this looney-tune maniac?" she whispered.

"Wait and see," replied the Doctor.

As the time-travelling trio stood by, Stemar and his gynoid companion strode around the laser diffuser, activating a sequence of computer passwords and pre-programmed codes. Soon a flurry of blue lights and terminal displays met the eyes of all involved in this mad scheme.

"Now . . ." said Stemar, "the game's about to begin."

A shudder echoed in the space station as a burst of laser power coursed from the diffuser toward the adjacent sun. To the horrified stares of the Doctor and his associates, the beam bored its way through the sun's intense surface and into the fiery core.

The star-core's level of heat diminished gradually at first, but now it rapidly froze to a solid mass of ice. Extreme cold overtook the remainder of the now-impotent sun, rendering it a dead star. From the station another burst of laser emitted, and within seconds the dead sun exploded into a ring of ice crystals and asteroids. Inside, Stemar grinned broadly from ear to ear.

"Still think I'm kidding, Doctor? You can clearly tell I wasn't."

Turlough, having kept silent during the ordeal, felt his face blench.

"You make me sick," he said softly.

"Well, parcheese to you, son," replied Stemar. "I'm not here to win a popularity contest. There's a vast realm of glory and wealth waiting, and I aim to get my piece of the pie."

"At the expense of countless lives, no doubt," stated the Doctor.

"Again, parcheese."

A thought formed in the Doctor's agile brain.

"I'm sure your experiment is a valid one, and I'm also sure the Internal Revenue Service would feel the same were they to get word of this."

"Internal Revenue Service? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh, just playing a hunch."

Soon Stemar faced a stark realization.

"Now I know what you're up to, and I can tell you it won't work, Doctor." He opened a small compartment below the control panel, drawing out a gun. "You three won't be around to tell anyone about this. Oh, and there's one other confession I have to say before I turn you into cinders."

"And what, pray tell, is that?" asked the Doctor.

"I cheated on my income taxes for the last three years. Soon the IRS won't be getting anything out of me except their final demise. As will others who dare oppose me, starting with you, Doctor."

Feeling like a man with nothing to lose, Turlough broke away from the others and ran with all speed toward Connie, his blue eyes narrowing. He stretched out his hands as if to strangle the comely gynoid, but she anticipated this maneuver and struck him in his face. Then she grabbed him by his necktie and drew his bruised face to hers.

"I dare you to try that again. But you won't be so lucky," she boomed. "I'm not going to be so merciful the next time around." She hurled the dazed young man back to the remaining humans. "Here, Doctor, this belongs to you, right?"

Turlough landed on the floor with a dull, hard thud, further bruising him. In true fashion, the Doctor and Tegan raced to help their friend.

"Come on, hero-boy. Let's get your injuries mended to, shall we?" said the Doctor.

"No argument here," answered Turlough weakly as he tried to stand up.

While all this took place, unbeknownst to all Stemar secretly programmed the station to activate a set of hidden boosters, sending them all from its present orbit. The resultant tremors shook the Doctor and his friends to their very cores.

"What the hell's happening?!" yelled Tegan.

"You've all seen the first phase of Project Sunfreeze," answered Stemar triumphantly. "Now we're on to the grand finale. I've just set the station's trajectory toward the most populated star system in the Universe."

The Doctor's face whitened with sheer horror!

"No! You seriously can't mean that!?"

Stemar laughed harshly.

"That's absolutely accurate, Doctor. Our very own Solar System, home of Mother Earth."

Seizing the initiative first brought forth by Turlough, the Doctor raced around the control room, hoping to find any means of ceasing Stemar's vile machinations. Immediately he stumbled upon a small cabinet housing various tools, found and grabbed a rather large wrench, and swiftly ran back to the control panel. From the background, Stemar took full notice and armed his gun.

"Time to throw a spanner in the works." said the Doctor to Tegan and Turlough.

Soon Stemar snuck up behind the Doctor, fully armed and quite enraged.

"You use that wrench, Doctor, and I'll barbecue your sorry English ass! Now turn around and face me!"

The Doctor slowly did as he was ordered.

"Drop the wrench onto the floor!"

A loud clank followed the wrench as it fell to the metal panelling.

"What are you planning to do now?" asked Tegan.

"First of all, I want to thank you for making what I've got to do a hell of a lot easier. Second, I'm going forward in the destruction of Earth's sun."

"One question, Stemar. Why? What's the underlying reason for this xenocide?" asked the Doctor.

"That's two questions, Doctor, but I'll humor you. You see, I've been denied so much by so many people in my life, it's not even funny."

"Sad tale," said Turlough blandly through still-swollen lips.

"Was I talking to you, punk?!" hollered Stemar, glaring hard at the red-haired young man. "Now, as for you, my good Doctor, give me one solid reason why I shouldn't blow your fool head off right this second."

"I believe you were in the middle of a rather sorry story concering your purpose in eliminating Earth's sun, if I remember accurately."

"Right. Well, as I was about to say before I became so rudely interrupted, hint hint, I've been dealt a very lousy hand in Life's poker game. Over the long years things really festered in my brain. Being forced to toil for cheap wages while the fat cats got nauseatingly rich beyond belief, no friends, very little chance for opportunity. In fact, outside of Connie over here I haven't even had -"

"Yes, well, let's leave your romantic intimacy issues out of the equation. The main point, Stemar, is that your insane scheme just won't work. There's a diagnosis for people like you: paranoid delusional. You're hopelessly mad, Stemar, and it's going to take a large miracle to cure you."

"You don't say. Oh wait, yes, you do say. After all, you're a doctor." Stemar inched his finger closer to the trigger. "And if you try my patience any further, you're not going to live long enough to keep your medical license intact."

Unknown to Stemar, Tegan crouched down and retrieved the wrench, handing it to Turlough. Looking around to ensure that no one watched, Turlough flung the wrench toward the conductive coil housed beneath the flooring. Soon a flurry of sparks cascaded upward and showered all over the control room, taking both the Doctor and Stemar by complete surprise.

"This whole sector is going to destroy itself! Everyone out of here!" boomed the Doctor. The sparks gave way to a series of explosions, the smoke from which hid Stemar and Connie from the eyes of the fleeing time travellers. For one second there was enough clearing for Stemar to gaze upon the now-lifeless gynoid who'd served him faithfully through thick and thin; the sight of her sabotaged form sent him over the black abyss of insanity.

"Now I'm really going to get rid of you!" yelled Stemar.

Outside the control room, the Doctor and his associates ran from the sounds of the exploding console panel. Their heads just narrowly avoided being struck by the unmistakable bursts of laser fire from Stemar's gun.

"Keep running! We've got to get back to the TARDIS!" screamed the Doctor.

As they ran down the corridor to the access portal, Stemar's loud footsteps echoed all over.

"You're not getting away this easily!"

After trying to remember where the time-craft materialized, the trio found themselves in the main section of the space station, literally steps away from the safety of the TARDIS. Another burst of laser fire followed them, striking the exterior of the ship. All this occurred as explosions kept taking place around every level, but Stemar's anger-laced insanity blinded him to the approaching cataclysm. He fired shot upon shot at the TARDIS even as the Doctor activated the dematerialization circuits.

Inside the sanctity of the temporal vehicle, the Doctor switched on the external scanners and bore witness to a frightening dose of reality.

"Poor deluded man. What a tragic waste of all that knowledge," he said ruefully.

Tegan and Turlough's faces showed great incredulity.

"Why are you feeling sorry for Stemar? He tried to shoot us and then threatened to destroy our Solar System. Why this bout of sympathy?" she asked.

"I agree with Tegan," said Turlough. "You said it yourself. He was incurably insane, right?"

The Doctor paused in his thinking.

"My diagnosis of Stemar was indeed accurate. His desire for power, wealth, and revenge proved, in this case, insurmountable. Still, I can't help contemplating what potential good Stemar's experiment might have brought forth."

The station then died a truly somber death as the last, great explosion rendered it an inert ring of metal, charred flesh, and shattered dreams . . .