Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, or any of the official characters. Aryna, Marcan and the like are my characters.
A/N: A big nod goes out to the Doctor Who Audio Drama episode "The Chronic Rift" for the spark that gave me this idea in the first place. Check out .net to listen to their audio dramas!
Aryna's head whipped forward and slammed into the console. She winced as she straightened and touched a fingertip to her forehead. She paused for just a moment at the sight of the red stain,
"Terrific," she muttered, clearly irritated.
"Alistair!" she called out much more loudly than was necessary.
"I'm right here," a quieter voice groaned from the other side of the console.
Aryna stood on her toes to get a better look and saw Alistair sitting on the floor with his head in his hands, "What are you doing down there? I seem to be bleeding, come take a look for me."
"Just, give me a minute. The TARDIS seems to be moving…"
Aryna rolled her eyes and huffed impatiently, "Of course it's moving! It's a ship Alistair, it quite frequently moves. Seriously, come take a look at this, I think it may be serious!"
Alistair shook his head slightly and let out a low moan when the movement made the pounding in his head intensify significantly, "No, you don't understand," he sighed, keeping his eyes closed in an effort to reduce the dizziness, "The console room appears to be spinning, quite violently in fact."
Aryna threw up her hands in disgust, "Really, you Earthlings are the most ridiculous lot of whiners that I've ever met."
She knelt on the floor next to him and pulled out a first aid kit from underneath the console. Taking out a medical scanner she started scanning Alistair's head while continuing her rant.
"One little bump on the head and you insist that you're mortally wounded."
Alistair refrained from observing that she had had a similar reaction to the relatively minor cut on her forehead.
"Oh… oh dear," Aryna murmured with obvious concern, "Well, young man, it appears that you have a rather nasty concussion. Why didn't you say so?"
Alistair wisely decided not to answer her.
"Here," she handed him a tiny tablet, "Let this dissolve under your tongue and you should be fine."
Surprisingly, Alistair felt better immediately. He opened his mouth to comment on this, when he noticed the expression on Aryna's face. He could tell that something was wrong, very wrong. He might be mistaken, but he thought she almost looked a little afraid. He had seen many things in the eyes of this mysterious Time Lady, but fear had never been one of them.
"Aryna?" he questioned tentatively.
Staring off into space she whispered, "I can hear them. But they're gone, all of them, gone. How can I hear them?"
Aryna looked so rattled that it was beginning to unnerve him, "Who? Hear who?"
She had an impossibly faraway look in her eye as she replied quietly, "The oldest and most mighty race in the universe. Looking down on the galaxies below; sworn never to interfere, only to watch."
Alistair was more than confused at this point, and was beginning to think that she must have hit her head REALLY hard. He was deciding how to tactfully suggest that perhaps she should rest for a bit when she abruptly jumped to her feet and frantically dashed about the console.
"Something is wrong, Alistair. Something is definitely wrong, and I intend to find out what it is!" she declared with her former confidence.
She paused to squint at a reading on the panel, "That's… odd. It's almost as if we materialized inside another… no… no, that can't be!"
She raced to the doors and flung them open, rushing recklessly outside.
Alistair followed her, still convinced that she had gone a bit loopy. He nearly collided with her, as she had stopped suddenly right outside of her TARDIS. Looking around, it was clear even to him that they were inside the console room of another TARDIS. It looked rather different from Aryna's, but it was still easily recognizable for what it was.
Someone, who he assumed must be a Time Lord, stood about four meters away. The Time Lord's eyes never left Aryna. His face was ashen, and he wore an expression of utter disbelief. A glance at Aryna and Alistair saw that her face was white, and she looked almost on the verge of tears. He didn't know what was going on, but he had never seen Aryna this unbalanced.
A single tear glistened in the corner of Aryna's eye. She refused to let it fall, refused to give in to the suffocating grief that she had never really overcome.
Her voice was soft, and laced with a pain that ran deep, "It can't be you. You're gone. You were gone even before the rest of them, weren't you. It's just a dream. You're just an illusion…"
A chilling, and all too familiar laugh echoed through the console room, "I assure you my dear Aryna, this is no illusion."
Aryna spun on her heel and came face to face with one particular Time Lord that she knew very well.
"Alistair, get back inside the TARDIS," she ordered.
"But," he began to protest.
"Now, young man!" she commanded with a tone that Alistair had heard from his mother several times growing up.
He didn't dare argue, and hurried into the TARDIS, closing the doors behind him. He did not like just sitting here waiting…