Mr Smith I NEED You
Sarah-Jane Smith pelted into her bizarre attic room.
"Mister Smith I need you!" She stumbled over the words, her breaths coming in heavy pants. Her adopted son Luke fell into the room and kicked the door closed behind him.
"Mum! What's happening?" he asked, his eyes wide and startled.
"I don't know Luke," said Sarah tapping at the huge computer impatiently. "Come on!"
"They had guns," Luke said peering out the window. "Mum, they're shooting down the street!"
"I know, I know I'm sorry! But I have twice as much of sorting it out from in here!" She kicked Mr Smith in anger. "Mr Smith I NEED you!"
Mr Smith churned into action and the lights illuminated the room, the heroic music that usually lifted Luke's spirits immediately sounding. Now it just annoyed him.
He sensed Sarah-Jane was feeling this too.
"Yes, yes we know," she snapped. "Mr Smith I need help." The computer seemed embarrassed.
"I am sorry Sarah-Jane. There may be a slight delay in my programming. I seem to be taking longer than usual to respond to your voice pattern."
"I noticed," Sarah growled. "Mr Smith I need you to analyse the aliens that tried to kill us. We were in the garden, me Luke and Mr Gregory and they came…" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "They just shot Mr Gregory straight in front of us."
"I am very sorry to hear this," bleated Mr Smith. "I hope death was instantaneous." Luke shook his head.
"It doesn't make any difference. He's still dead, isn't he?" he said sharply.
"Please Mr Smith hurry up!" Sarah almost screamed.
"Analysis taking place." Sarah paced up and down the room.
"Mum what can we do?" demanded her son.
"Luke let me think!" she shouted. Then she sighed at his hurt expression. "I'm sorry honey. Come here." She hugged him. The hug only a mother can hug. The hug Sarah herself has never experienced.
"Sorry Mum," he said. "I didn't mean to piss you off."
"You didn't honey. I just hate loosing control like this."
"Analysis complete. Result loading."
"Mr Smith! Hurry up will you!"
"I apologise for the delay Sarah-Jane. I don't seem to be myself at the moment."
"How can you not be yourself, you're a bloody machine," muttered Sarah without letting him hear. She didn't want to hurt his feelings. What feelings?
"Loaded," Mr Smith said, with something that sounded like relief in his voice. Sarah tried to pull herself together and looked up at the screen. A picture of the alien flashed up on the screen.
"Yes! That's it!" Tall, seven or even eight feet tall and twice as thick. No apparent eyes or ears, just a wide hole for a mouth. Stubby limbs with glowing bullets firing from what Sarah and Luke imagined to be arms. Pale green with skin like scrambled egg.
"They are members of the Churgzaark race," explained Mr Smith.
"History of species," said Sarah immediately. The screen zoomed out of the picture and showed a beautiful planet.
"How can something so horrid come from somewhere so stunning," breathed Luke.
"The more beautiful something is, the more likely it is to kill you," said Sarah, unknowingly quoting Riley from thousands of years into the future. "Something the Doctor told me a long time ago. As in five hundred years ago."
"They are assassins," said Mr Smith. "Genetically created by an unknown species, long since extinct. They have no sense of loyalty or decency."
"That's not so unusual," mumbled Sarah. "Carry on."
"They follow the highest bidder. If somebody comes along offering something they deem to be more rewarding than their current leader has, they abandon the first and follow the new master."
"Again, not so unusual. So this isn't a random attack. They want to assassinate someone. Or something."
"Either that or capture. Then kill."
"Same, difference."
"Mum," said Luke. "It's not us is it?"
"I was thinking the same. But why would anyone want to kill us? We haven't insulted an extra terrestrial life from for what, a whole month now? And the last ones, they weren't the brightest. I don't see them thinking of sending out assassins."
"Weaknesses?" Luke offered Mr Smith. The Xyloc searched through the millions of pieces of data.
"I have successfully recovered three possible weaknesses."
"Let's hear them," said Sarah eagerly.
"N-n-number on-n-ne," stuttered Mr Smith. "Numb-b-errrrr onnnne,"
"Mr Smith!" gasped Sarah. "Whats happening?"
"F-failin-n-ng," he rasped. "Apolog-g-iesss… imploding… m-must activa- activate em-mergency shhhut down." Mr Smith's screen blanked out and the smell of acrid smoke billowed in the room.
"Shit!" Sarah glanced out the window. "Luke they're looking for us!"
"We need help," he said. "I know you don't like it, but we do! We have to call someone."
"Who? I don't know if Martha's still at UNIT, she was talking about quitting when we met at with the whole Davros dalek thing, anyway I don't have her number. That Mickey, I have his number, but I doubt he'll be close…"
"Mum, I mean the Doctor," snapped Luke. "That woman, Martha gave you his number, right?" Sarah sighed and fumbled in her pocket.
"Crap! Left it downstairs."
"Mum!"
"I know! Come on Luke we need to get out of here. We'll run, hide, call the Doctor." Sarah couldn't conceal a grin. She never stopped missing him and loved the rare moments she got an excuse to call him.
"All right." They ran downstairs, grabbing coats and Sarah's mobile and left the house. They were halfway down the road, dodging out of the Churzaark's gaze when a colossal bang threw them off their feet. Heart in her mouth, Sarah spun round and cried out in shock. Where their house once was, there stood nothing but smoking rubble.
"No!" Mr Smith was in there; everything was in there! All her links to her old life with the Doctor. Her home. The only place she didn't have to hide.
"Mum!" Luke cried. "They've seen us!" They scrambled to their feet and began to run. Bullets whistling around their ears the mother and son stumbled over the pot holes in the road. Then Sarah fell, an anguished scream of genuine pain twisting her mouth. Luke skidded to a halt and dropped to his knees. "MUM!"
"Luke!" she gasped. "They shot me! Shit this hurts. Oh God."
"Mum!" He looked over her at the rapidly approaching aliens. Sarah-Jane was all too aware of them too.
"Luke baby," she husked. "I love you so much." He pressed the mobile into his hand. "Run. Leave me. Oh dear God now I sound like a bad film."
"I can't leave you," Luke protested.
"God, you're at it now!" A brief smile flickered across her features, but it was utterly false. "Listen Luke, we're useless dead. Or captured. Personally I prefer the latter…"
"Don't talk like that!" he protested.
"Sorry. Get somewhere safe. Call the Doctor. If they don't kill me straight away you're welcome to come and try to find me. But they need stopping or else who knows how many they'll kill. Doctor can stop them."
"All right," said Luke gripping her hand. "Mum I love you so so much."
"I love you too," she gasped, cupping his face in her hand. "God my leg hurts. I think the bullets still in there. Yeah, right in the knee. Yeouch."
"I'm sorry."
"Off you go then Luke. Bye." Tears trickled out of her eyes and her hand flew to her mouth. Luke straightened up and began to run. He turned round, his face flushed and creased in compressed emotion.
"I love you!" he shouted again as Sarah-Jane lost consciousness.
Mickey was sitting on the table in the autopsy room in Cardiff juggling a small handheld gun light heartedly.
"Mickey!" It was Jack, with the beam of a smile plastered across his face.
"What's up?"
"You all right Mickey Mouse?"
"I'm good Captain Cheesecake."
"Hey!" Jack wagged a finger at him cheekily. "I thought we decided nicknames were childish and insulting and we were never to use them again!"
"No, Rose decided that in the TARDIS on the way back from saving the universe, and she was in a strop because she didn't know about Martha or Donna and was taking it out on us. All we could do was nod."
"You really don't miss her?" Jack asked shrewdly. Mickey shook his head.
"No. I miss Jackie sometimes. Pete too I guess. And Tony was kind of cute. But no. Not Rose."
Jack was about to ask 'how come' when a huge explosion cut him short. Gwen ran into the room fear etched on her pale face.
"Jack," she panted. "These things came in… aliens and Ianto's hurt… they're coming!"
"Ianto's hurt?" cried Jack, jumping up. He grabbed three heavy guns and threw them to each of the Torchwood members. Mickey caught his and placed the other on the Autopsy bed. They ran out, gun's at their shoulders and began to fire wildly. The creatures were huge and their hide seemed impenetrable. However, an expertly placed bullet by Mickey sent one tumbling across the room scattering alien artefacts everywhere. But there were just far too many and soon, Mickey was down. Gwen backed against the wall, a cry escaping her lips.
"Jack there are too many!"
"Don't give up!" he grunted and took a bullet full on in the heart. Gwen wasn't worried- she knew he'd be all right in a second. Truth be told she was more worried for herself. She made a run for it and tried to jump over a rail of coats. Fail. It collapsed taking her down with it. The metal struck her in the temple and she sagged unconscious. They had lost.