The Illusive Man may have gotten more than he'd bargained for with this exchange. The man he'd found was . . . different. Easily the strangest person he'd ever met, although the man himself treated the whole situation like it was an everyday occurrence. Dimensional rift opening up right in front of his ship? Normal. A holographic image of a man practically dripping self-importance? Pshaw. Being asked to command a crew to take down a race of homicidal aliens being controlled by even more homicidal sentient machines?
Just like old times.
"So let me see if I've got this right," said the man in the tweed coat. He rocked back and forth on his heels, hands in his pockets. "You've got a ship and a crew for me, and you want me to just drop what I'm doing and save the human race?"
"I thought you said you weren't busy," said a very annoyed Illusive Man. He rubbed his temples and poured himself another scotch-he'd go through his whole supply talking to this infuriating man.
"Of course I did, but that's not the point. The point is that it's not possible; not with the ship you've got, at any rate."
TIM eyed him with outright disbelief. "You've seen it yourself—the Normandy is state-of-the-art. I spared no expense in its construction, and I've recruited the best pilot in the galaxy to helm her."
"No you haven't."
"Oh, really?"
"No. I know the best pilot, and he's currently indisposed. And by indisposed I mean dead."
"So he's not an option, then?" he asked, voice dry as the desert.
"Not permanently dead, only temporarily." The man brought out a thin scanner and ran it around the perimeter of the hologram, checked the readout, and stowed it again. The Illusive Man thought about asking him what that was all about, but that might get him talking again.
"Right then!" the man shouted, clapping his hands and rubbing his palms together briskly. "When do we get started?"
Thank god. "As soon as you can. The Normandy's docked at-"
"I already told you, this mission of yours isn't possible in that ship. I've gone against the Reapers before; I should know."
The Illusive Man heaved a long-suffering sigh and said, "I assume you have a better idea?"
The man smiled, and in that smile was a hint of the legend behind the silly, hyper exterior. "Better than that-I've got a ship."
"I've seen your ship. It won't fit an entire crew."
"Of course it will. It's bigger on the inside." He snapped his fingers and the blue door behind him swung open to reveal a spacious interior with what was quite possibly the strangest control panel he had ever seen.
"I'll just forward you the dossiers, then. I appreciate your taking on this mission, Doctor . . ."
"Justcall me The Doctor." He grinned, adjusted his bowtie, and hopped into his TARDIS. The engines whined and whirred, pulsing rhythmically until it had disappeared.
The Reapers again, The Doctor thought to himself.
This was gonna be fun.