WARNING - This is a sequel. It is probably a good idea to read 'The Long Regeneration' first as this will introduce the main characters along with a couple of underlying themes that may be confusing to a new reader.
Disclaimer: I do own Doctor Who and all the characters related to it, the only things I don't own are the OCs of my own inven... hang on.
No one saw them coming, no one predicted their coming, but they were here. The countless red dots on the screen swarmed like angry locusts, surrounding the green dots which quickly disappeared. Frantic orders echoed around the ship, he followed through as quickly as he could but he knew that it was futile. This was an attack of great planning. Somehow Tri-corps had known that this was where all the freighters would be, somehow they had known that there would only be very few battleships in the area to defend them.
The operator spotted another red dot flying towards the green dot which he knew signified the ship that he was operating on, and shouted a warning. The pilot, to his credit, performed the necessary evasive manoeuvre but the ship still took heavy damage from the incoming fire; the freighter just wasn't designed to withstand this sort of attack. His instincts told him to run to an escape pod before it was too late, but the ingrained discipline prevented him from leaving his post; even if he did run he would probably be killed as a deserter before he could get anywhere. The ship shook again as more fire smashed into the hull, warning sirens echoed throughout the bridge.
All around he could see the reactions of the crew, some had been sent flying by the previous barrage, others were crying and many were just staring emptily into space like he was. They all knew that they were going to die and there was nothing that they could do about it. He watched as several more red dots on his screen flew towards their ship. He didn't even bother to shout a warning this time, he just closed his eyes and started to pray. Images of the girl back on his home planet flashed across his mind, the one he had promised to marry when he returned, that wouldn't happen now, that was just another dream destroyed by the horrors of this war. The unknown projectiles hit and the entire ship burst open, sucking all the air out and killing him and all his fellow crew members instantly.
Tensions had always been high between the Star Galactic and Tri-corps mining corporations. To be fair, tensions were always high between massive mining corporations such as these, there was a lot of money up for grabs and whenever one company got a taste of this wealth they would become even more greedy for more and would start invading other territories and then clash with another company that was already there. But Star Galactic and Tri-corps hated one another. It wasn't just the standard rivalry motivated by greed, it was also down to the respective leaders' mutual dislike of one another.
Luckily they had been careful to avoid one another in the business market, knowing full well that any meetings would result in disastrous destruction for both sides, but there had been no chance of avoiding one another here.
Jade ore had been discovered on a remote asteroid by a royal scouting craft along with significant evidence that there could be more in the immediate system. This ore was like gold to the various mining corporations around the galaxy, it could be used as fuel for spaceships, it could power weapons and shield generators, in fact it could be used to power most things and much more efficiently than the standard energy sources. There was no ignoring this treasure trove, all companies rushed to the system to set up their equipment, including Star Galactic and Tri-corps. It didn't take long for there to be a violent clash between the two rivals and an even shorter time for it to degenerate into all out war; no one can agree as to who struck the first blow.
Captain Fllat commanded one of the few battleships that the Star Galactic held in the sector and, because of this, he had a much better view of the battle than the operator on the freighter. The freighters were completely enclosed like submarines so had to rely completely on the sensors to see what was going on around them, the battleships had large viewing windows allowing those inside a direct view of the outside.
Fllat was a bipedal reptilian creature, an unique species in the corporation, almost a cross between a crocodile and some sort of insect. He had great tree trunk like legs and thick, strong, armoured arms with stubby, yet still sharp, claws on the end of stubby fingers. His tail was flat and segmented like a centipede, this continued as armour up his back until it finished as his flat head. His head was flat and square and very odd to look upon. It reared up from his body like a snake, there was no clear mouth but his eyes were big and round and on the end of short stalks at the top of his head. He was dressed in red, flowing robes, which seemed a contradiction to his aggressive physical features.
He watched as the swarms of Tri-corps fighters swooped across the sector firing blasts of energy at the opposition ships. Countless freighters burst open under the strain, spilling their precious cargo of bright green Jade ore. They dazzled like green stars until the Tri-corps ships swooped over and greedily sucked them up like vacuum cleaners.
"Sound the evacuation order," Fllat ordered, recognising that the battle was lost. As he said this the back of his head opened up to reveal a mouth full of sharp teeth, it made it seem as if he head was on back to front. "Set up a transmission to the Hand of Thrawt," he added as the crew hurriedly sent out the evacuation order to the remaining ships in the area.
The ship rocked under the impact of another blast but they were confident that they would escape in time. Either way the rest of the corporation would learn what had happened here and would be on hand to deal with the mole that had leaked this precious information to Tri-corps.
The Star Galactic's many military contracts had allowed them access to a lot of military research which, coupled with the huge profits produced by these contracts, allowed them to build some of the most powerful battleships in the galaxy. The largest of these was the Hand of Thrawt, a very powerful dreadnaught that also acted as an ore processor. The main deck teemed with life, with many different species either working as an operator on this huge command deck or having to pass through in order to get to their station.
It was even busier than normal on this day, workers from across the entire ship were gathering on this deck because they had heard what had happened to the freighters in their supposedly secret hiding place, and rumour said that the man responsible for this was going to be brought to trial here and now. A few leading members of the corporation were present (Captains Fllat, Zipp, and Chairman Woov) suggesting that this was indeed a serious matter. But no one knew for certain until the large screen on the main wall flickered and changed to an image of the leader of the Star Galactic, Grand Baron Thrawt, then they all knew for certain. He never appeared anywhere in person, always appearing on a screen like this or as a hologram. In this position on the wall, and with the size of the screen, he sat as a very imposing figure, almost like a king looking down on his subjects. He was undoubtedly going to act as the judge for a trial.
He would have been an imposing figure even if he wasn't towering over everyone on a massive screen with his noble, patrician features. Only his top half was visible so that while he looked humanoid, he could easily have hundreds of spider like legs and no one would have known. His eyes were completely black, he had no ears and his teeth were sharp and pointy but only visible when he opened his lipless mouth. His skin was grey and had grooves etched across it, making it look a bit like the bark of a tree, which continued vertically across the top of his bald head.
"Bring him in," he intoned.
On cue the double doors at the opposite end of the room slid open and a group of armed thugs strode in. Casually strolling in amongst them was one man, he looked human but that didn't prove anything, unarmed yet didn't act as if he was there against his will. He wore mud brown trousers and brown boots that went halfway up his thighs, a reddish brown jacket with a long flowing tail that he had unbuttoned to reveal a plain black t-shirt underneath. His brown hair was closely cropped and his face clean shaven, his eyes sparkled green with mischief and joviality. He waved at the crowds and winked at certain insectoid species.
"I am honoured by this turn out," he said when he was brought into position in front of the officers and below Thrawt. "Although I notice Rabkar isn't here."
"He is busy sorting out the mess that you caused, Informant," Fllat spat.
"Really?" The Informant blinked in surprise. "I wouldn't have thought that a Captain of his standing would have to unblock the toilet on deck 53 personally."
"We are not here to discuss your bouts of diarrhoea," Thrawt said tiredly, "it is your corporate espionage that we are more interested in."
"Just to make things clear," the Informant said, "I never pretended to be on your side, I am a tradesman, I was always invited on board to buy and sell information. I never planted bugs or broke into secure areas to gain any of the information, it's your own fault for having private conversations in front of me. So if anyone should be blamed it should be Woov, not me."
They all turned to stare at the sheepish chairman. "That isn't the point," Thrawt boomed, "you still leaked vital information to the enemy, information that cost us fifteen freighters, all the jade they were carrying, and hundreds of lives."
"Yes but apart from all that, what have I actually done?" the Informant questioned.
"You are a spy," Thrawt stated. "And this is a war, all spies shall be executed."
"Now hang on a minute," the Informant protested. "I never pretended to be on your side, I came to you as an independent so in what way am I a spy?"
"You will not talk your way out of this," Thrawt stated, "we took you into our trust and you betrayed it."
"Ok, could you not sentence me just yet," The Informant requested. "Only, if you are indeed going to kill me, I had better check in with Tri-corps first."
"So that you can betray us again?" Thrawt exclaimed.
"No, so that they get the chance to pass their sentence first," he answered. "Doesn't seem fair that you should get the chance to kill me first when I have betrayed them a lot more times than you."
"It is not wise to make jokes when your life is in the palm of my hand," Thrawt snarled.
"Oh so that's why this ship is called the Hand of Thrawt," the Informant giggled. "I suppose that makes this place the Palm."
"Enough!" Fllat snarled. "Just kill him!"
There was a murmur of agreement amongst the assembled crowd which slowly raised in volume until it was exactly like an audience at the colosseum baying for blood. The guards cocked their weapons and turned to point them at the Informant, making him realise how little time he had left to find a way out of this. The one saving grace was that Thrawt hadn't said anything, and no one would dare do anything without his leave, he just sat at his desk staring down at the masses impassively. The Informant found this quite unsettling though, in fact he found everything about Thrawt unsettling, a man who refused to appear anywhere in person, even on his own ship, clearly had something to hide; and he had a feeling that it was something very sinister. Even so, he was going to cling onto this lifeline for all its worth, and buy himself some time.
"Now hold on a second!" He exclaimed. "The big cheese hasn't said anything yet. For all you know he is going to acknowledge my crimes but recognise my talents in this field, and hire me to go on a mission to Tri-corps in order to pay back for the trouble I have caused."
They all paused and slowly turned to look up at the Grand Baron in anticipation. Thrawt himself said nothing, drumming his spindly fingers on the desk in front of him in thought.
"It is a very tempting proposal," Thrawt said eventually.
"But you are going to decline," the Informant finished, cleaning his ear casually. "Why am I not surprised."
"For all we know you already made that deal with Kcen, which is why you are here now," Thrawt replied. "I think it is best for everyone if we just bring your involvement in this war to a permanent end."
"It's funny you should say that," the Informant replied. "Kcen is obviously more of an entrepreneur than... What do you mean you can't get out?"
There was a brief murmur of confusion. One of the guards turned to give the captains a questioning look, they just shrugged in response. The Informant inclined his head and slapped his ear as if he were trying to shake sand or water out of the other one.
"You got in there ok," the Informant scolded, "you must be able to get out." He stopped and rolled his eyes at the big screen. "You can't get the staff these days."
"What exactly are you doing?" Thrawt snarled.
The informant ignored the question, he simply squeezed his nose and blew out through it as hard as he could. There was a subtle pop, and a mosquito was ejected out of each ear. They buzzed about dizzily for a few seconds before flying back to the Informant's side. Chairman Woov realised what they were and boomed with laughter.
"Is that your escape attempt?" the dog headed alien laughed.
"Laugh if you will, chairman," the Informant scorned. "Mosquitoes in themselves may not be particularly dangerous creatures, but I don't call them Dengue and Malaria for nothing."
Woov looked about in confusion. "What?" He questioned.
"They're infected with deadly diseases you idiot," Thrawt boomed.
"Give that man a coconut," the Informant smirked. He quickly made a buzzing sound followed by a couple of clicks with his tongue and the mosquitoes dived into action. They each shot at an unsuspecting guard and painfully bit them in the eye. The guards screamed and frantically tried to swat them, but they were too quick zigzagging through the air towards another target and then dummying to another one who wasn't expecting it. The Informant took advantage of this distraction to slam his fist into one of the bitten guards and snatch his weapon out of his hand. He then turned and slammed the barrel into the temple of a guard that had spotted him and was about to attack him, successfully knocking him out and then turning to shoot another.
"Enough of this!" Thrawt roared.
The Informant rolled his eyes, twisted and fired three shots into the centre of the screen. It flashed several different colours before going black. Everyone gasped in shock, the guards that were still standing froze in their attack and stared up at the screen in shock. The mosquitoes returned to the Informant's side on a commanding buzz.
"Right," he said, "now that he's not here let's discuss the skills that I have to offer you. You will of course be worried about me switching side again, but you need not worry..."
"Destroying the screen doesn't stop me from seeing and hearing you, moron!" Thrawt's voice echoed around the room.
"Oh... Well then you can hear about my offer to protect against Tri-corps' bribes," the Informant replied frantically.
"That will not be necessary," the Grand Baron boomed. "At arms!"
The sound of hundreds of guns being unholstered echoed around the room. The Informant looked left and right but he saw no way out of this one, there were too many. All of a sudden there was a flash of light above the Informant's head and a leather wrist strap appeared, along with a slightly confused looking fly. The strap immediately succumbed to the pull of the artificial gravity and the Informant caught it with a cry of triumph.
"Took your time," he said to the fly. He quickly pulled back a flap to reveal the vortex manipulator that had been confiscated from him almost the second he had been apprehended.
"No!" Thrawt shouted in anger, realising what it was.
The Informant grinned cheekily and pressed one of the buttons. He did not, however, disappear like most people had expected, instead a large cloud of flying insects appeared in front of him.
"Fly my pretties, fly!" he cried. The swarm immediately split and dive bombed the nearest victims, the mosquitoes buzzing after them. The Informant was forgotten as everyone frantically tried to hold the mass of insects at bay; he simply strolled to the nearest exit and walked out, closing the door quickly behind him.
The corridor that he strode down was completely empty save for himself and the fly that was flying around his head. "Well obviously I could have just teleported out of here," he said, strapping his vortex manipulator back to his wrist. "But where would be the fun in that? Besides, I'm never going to be able to come back here so I need to grab as much information as I can while I still have the chance."
He took a few more paces before pausing and glancing over his shoulder. The fly buzzed questionably. "I'm not sure," the Informant replied, "but I get the feeling that I'm being watched." His gaze caught a camera on the wall that was staring directly at him. He lifted up the pistol that he was still holding and fired a single shot to destroy it. "Paranoid bastard," he muttered. "The sooner we get out of here the better."
He kicked in the grill of a duct and ducked down to crawl through. It was a fairly tight squeeze, because ducts aren't designed to allow a person to crawl through, and the fly had to fly on ahead to be sure of avoiding being accidentally squashed by the Informant's body but they managed. Eventually they came to the room that the Informant had been looking for, the fly buzzed out and circled the room happily while the Informant pulled himself out less elegantly. After brushing himself down he hopped over to a terminal in a grey box fitted on the wall.
"Data recorder," the Informant explained, "all starships have one. It records all the data that the ship picks up along with all radio messages and actions that the crew take during flight. Very durable piece of kit, you could throw this through a black hole and still be able to read the data stored on it, means that if the ship goes down with all hands lost then investigators would be able to find out what happened by looking up the data on here." He produced a long wire from his jacket and plugged one end into the terminal and the other into his vortex manipulator. "Give it a couple of minutes and I will know everything that the Hand of Thrawt has done since its maiden voyage."
The fly didn't seem to be paying much attention, it was just buzzing up against the glass as if it was trying to fly through and couldn't understand why it wasn't. "What are you looking at?" The Informant asked.
He walked over to the window and gazed out at the field of fireflies that was space. "Depressing isn't it," he said. The fly landed on the window and buzzed a question. "If I was someone else, a Doctor perhaps, I would marvel at the wonder of all the stars and all the countless worlds and cultures that each one has, ask you to point at one and I would take you there. The reality is that half of those stars don't have habitable planets, life in the universe is a lot rarer than many would have you believe. And then of course there are all those that are actually dead." He traced an arc of stars with his finger. "Those went supernova a few centuries ago, but they still shine and will continue to do so for several millennia, deceptively suggesting that they continue to burn but the reality is that they are all dead. You may see hope and beauty when you gaze at the stars, but all I see is a thousand dead worlds, burning like funeral pyres. That is my curse, knowing too much about the universe and what has happened in it."
"Why don't you stop then?"
The Informant laughed bitterly. "What else would I..." He trailed off. Flies cannot speak, they only buzz. He twisted towards the sound of the voice. "Zipp?"
Captain Zipp, one of the officers on the main deck, was stood by the data recorder without a mark on his body; that fact becomes more odd when you realise that he is a human so more attractive to the mosquitoes than the aliens. He stood tall and proud in his smart uniform, dark skinned, black haired and with a neat moustache, but was smiling strangely in a way that the Informant had never seen him do before. The other strange thing about him, other than the fact that the mosquitoes hadn't tried to bite him at all, was that he had successfully managed to sneak up on the Informant. Normally he could feel a psychic presence of anyone who came within a certain distance of him, that made it very difficult for anyone to sneak up on him, but he had felt nothing. He cocked his head to one side and gently probed with his mind, but found nothing at all. He only knew of two things in the universe that didn't have minds that could be probed psychically, and humans were not one of them.
"You're not Captain Zipp," he said.
"I suppose," 'Zipp' continued, "the real question I should ask is: why don't you just take the data recorder with you? You know full well that 98.7% of the occupants on this ship want you dead, so you would have thought it would be more sensible to simply steal the data recorder and run."
The Informant clutched at his wrist and realised that it wasn't there again. In order to come over to the window he had unstrapped his vortex manipulator and left it on the data recorder meaning that 'Zipp' was stood in the way, he would have to talk his way out of this.
"Who are you?" He asked.
"Well I'm not one of the 1.3%," the imposter answered.
"Yeah, I guessed that," the Informant snapped, "but who are you really? You're not Captain Zipp, that much is obvious."
"You got me," the imposter grinned manically. "I'm the Craxas."
"If you were the Craxas I wouldn't have mistaken you for a human," the Informant snapped. It was obvious that he wasn't the Craxas, there would have been a ship wide panic if he was; although that would have been because of the disease that was being spread not because of the Craxas itself. But if he wasn't the Craxas then that could only mean one thing. His hearts clenched with this realisation. The one thing he feared above all else.
"Android," he breathed.
'Zipp' continued to smile manically. "Not just any android," he drawled.
His entire skin suddenly began to shimmer, not just his skin actually, his clothes and his hair too began to shimmer. Tiny individual squares across his entire body, like the pixels on a television screen changed colour at random, some turning red then back to the original tone, others green then back to the original tone. Slowly each square flickered and went out, like a television being turned off. Eventually the image of Zipp had disappeared and the true android was revealed.
It was like a human but far skinnier and shorter than average, and with pistons on the knees and elbows to allow it to lengthen them and shorten them to make it seem taller or shorter when it needed to; its chest was also able to expand, making it appear fatter or thinner or giving the appearance of breasts. The design was very sleek and smooth, almost brand new and completely black, the only colour coming from the machines red eyes. Long tentacles sprouted from the top of its head like hair, they were also completely black apart from a red light on the end of each one.
"I am a Kamelion," it announced dramatically.
It was worse than the Informant had feared. He couldn't stand androids. They were cold, emotionless, thus lacking imagination, he couldn't joke around with them, negotiate and he certainly couldn't overpower one if it came to fisticuffs. Not to mention the apparent trust so many people had for them when all it took was the alteration of one wire for it to turn against those that it had once worked for. Essentially, they are not alive by any stretch of the imagination, and yet are far more accepted into societies than many living species. Kamelions were the worst, he had never met one before personally, and their cult status suggested that they weren't actually real, just stories, but stood in front of him was a perfect demonstration of why they were the worst. They could infiltrate societies, pass themselves off as living and no one would know.
"I was lead to believe that you were travelling around under the protection of the Doctor," the Informant said, putting on a brave face.
The Kamelion's shiny black coat shimmered and then changed colour. Once all the tiny square pixels that made up its skin settled down the Kamelion looked like a completely silver android, with clumsy looking limbs, that looked like they were held on by the tube of a Hoover, its cranium was see-through, as was a circle on its chest , revealing flashing lights underneath.
"This model," the Kamelion pointed at itself and speaking with a completely new voice, "is the original. An ultimately flawed machine, hiding in the Doctor's TARDIS out of fear of being controlled by a sinister influence. It was destroyed after a titanic struggle between the Doctor and his oldest foe."
"Xkitor?"
"Ok, maybe he wasn't his oldest foe," the Kamelion admitted, returning to its true appearance, and Zipp's voice. "I, however, am a far more advanced model. After five further attempts, the creators were finally able to create the perfect Kamelion. I am able to take on a far greater range of appearances than the original, including the odd quadruped." It flickered and took on the appearance of a tiger, after leaning forwards onto its arms as if they were front legs.
"You even managed to create a tail for it," the Informant spotted, suitably impressed.
The tiger stood up on its hind legs like a human and quickly flickered back to the Kamelion's true form. "I am more durable than the previous five, and stronger willed. I am my own master, I follow my own destiny. I even have great imagination to rival that of a human."
"You'll forgive me for being sceptical," the Informant muttered.
"I have even fashioned a name for myself," the Kamelion continued regardless. "You can call me Shest."
"Well clearly not as good as an imagination as you thought," the Informant replied. "Shest? That's just Russian for the number six."
Shest's right hand suddenly shot forwards like a snake and clamped around the Informant's wrist in a vice like grip. The Informant howled in pain.
"Be careful what you say, Informant," Shest threatened. "You might make me angry." As he spoke the pixels across his body flickered to life, slowly making him take up the appearance of a young human. Fit but not a body builder, just average. But the transformation didn't stop there. As his speech continued, he slowly began to turn green and the muscles expanded, getting larger and larger. "And you won't like me when I'm angry."
"You shouldn't be doing this," the Informant said through gritted teeth. Shest continued to transform into the Incredible Hulk, maintaining his iron grip on the Informant's wrist. "Alright, alright!" The Informant screamed.
Shest finally released his grip and returned to his true form. The Informant slumped to the floor, clutching his wrist and moaning in pain. The fly took off in anger and shot towards the Kamelion, forgetting about the size difference and the lack of any sort of weapon. Shest transformed into a rather weedy looking kid and casually caught the oncoming fly between his thumb and forefinger.
"Hey look at that," he exclaimed as if seeking someone's approval. He then transformed into an elderly Chinese man, dressed like a janitor. "Beginner's luck," he spat and squashed the wriggling insect with an air of finality.
The Informant grimaced at this display of insect killing. Flies were very useful allies in many respects but could be incredibly thick at other times; he was going to have to give incredibly detailed instructions to the next one. That was if he ever got back to Earth to enlist another one.
"You shouldn't have been able to do that," he breathed. "There are laws, an android isn't supposed to harm humans."
"You refer to Asimov's three laws," Shest replied. "A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. A robot must obey the orders given to it by human beings, except where such orders would conflict with the First Law. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Laws. There's just one problem with that."
"And what's that?" The Informant asked nervously.
Shest changed into a thin woman dressed completely in white and had short brown hair. "The subject has many differences to the standard model, most interesting our these rogue strands of data in its brain, they allow it to ignore the three laws if it so chooses."
The Informant grimaced at this. "Why would anyone do that?" He exclaimed.
"I cannot say," the Kamelion shrugged, staying in character.
"Did Thrawt commission you?" The Informant inquired. "Are you to act as a spy for him?"
"On the contrary," Shest said. He transformed once again, this time into the spitting image of the Informant. "I am a free-agent, I don't work for anyone!"
"Could you stop doing that, it's really irritating!" The real Informant shouted.
Shest shrank into the form of a little boy, folded his arms and turned away slightly "Make me," he pouted.
The Informant growled and pulled himself to his feet, the pain in his wrist was still severe but it had receded a lot. "So, six," he said, emphasising the use of the number over its chosen name, "if you're a free-agent then what are you doing here at all? What could possibly interest an android on a warship like this? What interests an android at all, actually?"
Shest turned into a seductively dressed teenage female. "Wouldn't you like to know," she said coyly, fluttering her eyelashes flirtatiously.
"Thrawt doesn't know you are here does he," the Informant realised. He laughed at the sudden discomfort that Shest seemed to be showing. "You've just blown your cover for no reason. I wonder how Thrawt would react when he discovers that one of his most prominent officers is actually a shape changing android spy."
"I'm not spying on him," Shest insisted.
"No of course not," the Informant agreed. "As we previously established you have no real purpose other than to stand there pretending to be several people that aren't actually real. And you got the I Robot quote wrong."
Shest changed into a strong looking male and slammed his fist down on the Informant's vortex manipulator, the force of the blow causing the data recorder to fall off the wall. "I don't need to spy on him because he is already acting according to plan," he growled. "Yes, there is a plan, be quiet for a moment, this next bit is important. Along with my greater intelligence, range of shapes to transform into and the ability to ignore the three laws I can also travel through time. I can and will be able to integrate with many cultures across time and space completely unseen by all. Apart from by two people. You, and the Doctor, the last two Time Lords in existence."
The Informant suddenly understood why Shest had chosen to reveal itself to him. "You think that I will try to stop you," he said. Shest smiled his eerie smile, completely identical to the one he had pulled in Zipp's form. "Now, I don't see that that is really necessary. I may dislike androids on principle, but I will not object to your simple existence. In fact if you intend to mingle among many time zones I would happily hire you to act as a spy for me."
"I couldn't work with you, Informant," Shest smirked. "You are the enemy."
"But I haven't done anything to you," the Informant exclaimed.
"It doesn't matter what you have and haven't done," Shest stated. "This is a war of inevitability, and the Time Lords are the only ones who can stop me."
Shest balled up a fist and brought it up to strike the Informant in the face. The strike was lightning quick, too quick for any human to dodge. But in his keenness to kill the young Time Lord, Shest forgot that Time Lords were not like humans. The Informant used his natural link to the time vortex to slow time down from his point of view. Shest's fist continued on its arc at a much reduced pace and he casually ducked under it and rolled to the other side of the room, collecting his vortex manipulator on the way past.
He pressed buttons frantically and was delighted to discover that there was still some life left in it. It was heavily damaged and would require a lot of maintenance to restore some of the disabled settings, but there was enough power for one trip.
Shest twisted round and prepared to resume his assault. "Nice try, six," the Informant taunted, "but I'll be off now, if you don't mind." He pressed the required button and disappeared. He had no idea when or where he would dematerialise but at least he had escaped from that crazy android.
The Kamelion Trail by MountainLord-92
Author's note: Welcome back to another story starring my future incarnation of the Doctor and the Mondasian cannibal, Broxa. We will follow a similar format to the Long Regeneration i.e. several shorter parts of roughly four chapters each and the odd double length arc, with an underlying theme.
First up: the Doctor takes on the mysterious gentlemen, and their separate attempts to kill him. Will they succeed where the assassins of Sundew failed? Or will he demonstrate exactly what makes him such a formidable foe? The only certainty is that in order to defeat them he must enter a the world of Marswamp and become a Prisoner of War.