Turlough crawled out of the ventilation vent into the navigation booth and stared through the glass partition at the scene in the hanger below with horror: at the far end, across an acre of steel flooring stood the TARDIS with the Doctor and Tegan crouched beside a small metal pod while behind them space swept off into nothing, held back by the hangar force field, and between Turlough and his friends were thousands upon thousands of the hideous crawling Valours, wretched carapaced crustaceans that advanced upon this friends, their claws snipping at the air. Desperate, Turlough turned to the wall armory behind him and snatched up one of the strange, black bulbous cannons. It was only as he was fumbling with its fifty-pound mass did he realize that he didn't have the slightest clue how to fire it.
The squawk of alarm made him look up; they'd seen him in the control booth and were skittering his way.
Turlough awkwardly hefted the weapon, undecided as to whether to simply surrender or make a break for the ventilation duct.
That was when reality warped behind him, barfing out an impossibly figure.
/Thanks/
The voice echoed in Turlough's head even as his hands twitched at empty air as the woman breezily lifted it out of his hands and ran at the glass partition, casting the rifle, end over end, at the glass, shattering it neatly as she dived through it, folding into a cannonball of leather and spiked hair fell down in to the hanger, exploding at the last minute into a writhing fury of limbs and knifes as she rampaged through the aliens, slicing a path towards the Doctor.
Dumbstruck, Turlough blinked at the figure as it cut a swath of death and destruction, a veritable hell on legs, leaving behind cracked and spasming limbs and antennae. He noticed that far across the hangar, Tegan sat up and was staring at the woman maurading towards her, her expression priceless. A tiny voice, his survival voice -his best friend, gave his brain a nudge and Turlough started to climb out of the window to follow the woman who was clearly heading for the TARDIS, wondering all the while why he couldn't find neat outfits like that in the wardrobe room.
Tegan stared disbelieving, her mind racing. It's not possible.
The figure's swords and knives whistled theatrically through the air and torsos as she approached, her ginsu ballet pausing only momentarily to catch the rifle as if finally fell from the sky before blasting away the larger Valours that threw themselves on her. The woman laughed as she kicked, hacked and flaming through their ranks.
Beside her the Doctor screwed and clamped away at the device, a scrambing signal that would disorientate the invading Valouring Fleet so he could deactivate their dimensional force bombs. He'd instructed her not to interrupt him, but somehow, Tegan felt justified in tapping him on the shoulder. Tegan took in the greasy, spiked hair that burned red at the tips, the graceful, muscular limbs and the all too familiar face. It can't be.
/Hello./ The voice in her mind was brash, loud and cheerful.
It was her's.
You're me!
/I was./ The figure was closer now, smiling grimly as she rammed her fist into a Valourian faceplate. /Alternate reality. Doc couldn't save me from the Mara; it consumed me, dragged me kicking and screaming through hell and back./
Tegan blinked at the other version of her that bit, whacked and punched her way towards, them; her face was the same, the eyes worn, the face lined, the eyes burning with an energy she'd never felt. It was her, in black leather and four inch heels.
The Mara, it ate you. Tegan staggered back, overwhelmed by the invasive memories of the force that twice tried to devour the universe through her.
/It did/ Uber-Tegan slashed through the last of the decaptitated aliens and stood before Tegan, sheathing her sword and tossing the massive rifle to the ground. /And then I made it my bitch/ Winking at her other self, Uber-Tegan strode into the TARDIS and slammed the doors closed behind her. Soon the sounds of the timeship engines faded with the blue box, leaving the air empty except for the groans and chittering of the fallen aliens and the crunching steps of Turlough as he stood beside her.
With a bleep, the Doctor activated the device. "There we are," he said proudly, his eyes gleaming with delight as he stood up, brushing off his knees. "That should take care of the Valourians…" he trailed off as he took in the carnage and destruction around him. He frowned disappointingly at his companions. "Have I missed something?" he asked innocently.