Title: Crime and Space
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG/K+
Summary: The Doctor discovers Lady Christina has been stealing out in space, causing him to come face to face with an old enemy. Takes place many months after Planet of the Dead.
Warnings: Contains spoilers for Planet of the Dead and for The Christmas Invasion if for some reason you haven't seen that (and if you haven't what are you waiting for?).
Word Count: 8,984
Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Doctor Who, silly.
It was the closest he'd had to a quiet life since the Doctor could remember. Months and months of travelling, visiting and sightseeing with nary a disaster or potential catastrophe in sight. He saw dozens of perfectly lovely worlds, past, present and future, tried new foods, met new species, learned new customs, all very nice. He sighed. Pacing the TARDIS console, listening to the reassuring hum of the engine throbbing away like a healthy heartbeat, the Doctor began to wonder how much longer it was going to be like this. Or was this what life was like without someone to share your experiences?
It was, in a word, boring.
He hated himself for even thinking the word. He had been a traveller now for centuries, and one thing it never was -- never ever -- was boring. He'd pack it all in instantly if he ever really thought that. So if that wasn't it, what was it, he wondered, as he sat down and picked up a novel he had already finished reading and rereading for the third time. No, I know what it is, he thought.
It's ordinary.
And that was almost as bad as boring. Almost. But not quite. Because any situation can be considered ordinary, while boring seemed to be more of a reflection of the person experiencing it. Only boring people get bored, he had heard once. True enough. And the Doctor knew he was a lot of things, but boring had never been one of them. He also had never been ordinary, but that was less of a jibe to the reputation and was a much easier thing to rectify. While he'd never admit to going looking for trouble -- not exactly -- he wouldn't say no to a bit of unbridled excitement now and again, something decidedly out of the ordinary, and he knew where to find that.
So he set the coordinates for the Falaxi system. Now there was a galaxy -- every planet full of extraordinary fun. He realised as he released the hand brake and set off that he hadn't been there in quite a while. The last time, he had won a contest in an underwater revolving pub against a creature half the width of the bar counter and twice as tall. Balancing spoons on their noses, he recalled. Was it the Doctor's fault that the creature had a nose as bumpy and uneven as the coral reefs outside? Sore loser, that one. Now which planet was that? Ah yes, Alpha 16. He'd go there first, he decided. Maybe the fellow was still there, the Doctor could challenge him to a rematch, give the chap a chance to save face, as it were.
"Here we are," he said out loud to no one. He had been doing that a lot these days. "Alpha 16. Saturday night. I love Saturday nights."
Grabbing his coat, the Doctor charged down the gangway and threw open the doors.
Then he stopped.
"Oh."
He stopped first at what he saw but the truth was he could have gone no further even if he wanted to. There was an invisible barrier blocking his exit. The Doctor reached out and brushed the field with his fingertips, energy rippling like water, sealing him in. It had been put there by the TARDIS and it only ever happened if whatever was outside was inhospitable. Not ordinarily inhospitable mind you, but the kind that simply could not be survived, such as the vacuum of space. The TARDIS wouldn't allow the Doctor to step out into the vacuum of space, for example. But this wasn't space, this was clearly land, apart from the fact that it looked nothing like the Alpha 16 that he remembered. Nothing at all.
He didn't need to step outside to know that. Looking out onto the cityscape, he could see.
The place was a ruin.
As in desolate. Abandoned. No life at all. Not a sausage.
Oh the buildings were there, standing dark and vacant like tombstones. Rubbish littered the street, lying still and undisturbed by the complete absence of wind. From the distance, the Doctor could just make out what appeared to be clothed skeletal remains scattered here and there, forgotten and unburied. It was a ghost town, quite literally. For several long minutes the Doctor stood at the threshold and stared, his fist gripping tightly to the TARDIS door as if for support. Finally with a scowl he closed the doors softly and returned to the console.
His first thought was that he had simply miscalculated. It's been known to happen. He was on the wrong planet. He checked the TARDIS readouts but the results could not be clearer. This was Alpha 16 in the Falaxi system, with its nightlife and its markets and its underwater revolving pubs. It was exactly where it had always been. He performed a scan of the world, and the news was even worse -- this was not an isolated disaster. It was planet wide. The entire planet appeared to have no atmosphere.
And as a result, everyone on it was dead.
"Well," he declared to the empty chamber, "I can't tell what this is but I can tell what it's not."
What it was not, was ordinary. So he had come to the right place after all.
~*~
Tossing his coat back over the rail, the Doctor now felt decidedly grim. There were twenty million people on that planet last he visited. Now the TARDIS was picking up no life signs at all, not even vegetation. He broadened the sweep to include other nearby worlds in the system. The Falaxi system had been terraformed long ago and every planet had teemed with life. But one after another he found nothing but dead, silent worlds -- each scan came back reporting the complete and total absence of life.
Had it been a natural disaster, he wondered, like a supernova or a meteor collision? Unlikely, since there was no planetary debris in the region, the system's three large suns still burned bright and every other star was too distant to be a threat on such a scale. Alarmed, he widened the scan once more to include the last two planets on the outer rim, Taractus and Urfon. Both came back with life signs. The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief. Taractus was closer so he'd start his investigation there.
He was ashamed to admit it was his first time on Taractus -- the planets of the Falaxi outer rim were more sparsely populated -- but he knew they were a peaceful race of humanoids with an advanced culture. He found the city centre and put the TARDIS down not far from a cluster of sandstone government buildings. Someone of authority should be available to tell him what had happened to the neighbouring planets, he assumed, imagining it to be a topic of great concern to the Taractans.
He opened the TARDIS doors and his hearts sank, but this time for a completely different reason. There was atmosphere, he smelled the crisp, clean air as he stepped out onto the pavement, but he had miscalculated the time. The suns were just setting over the horizon and it was clearly past business hours. No government office would be open now.
The Doctor glanced up and down the empty streets, listening to the sounds of transport vehicles in the distance. There was life here but it had all gone home for tea. He supposed he could check round the pubs and shops; pass the time until the official start of the work day. Nah, he decided, I've had quite enough holidays, and this can't wait until morning. I'll just have to help myself. Reaching into his jacket for his sonic screwdriver, the Doctor casually flipped it up in the air, caught it and headed for the back door of the most official looking building he could find.
Calculating quickly, the Doctor estimated that he had last known the Falaxi system to be undisturbed as recently as a year ago. Surely he should find ministry reports regarding global catastrophes on nearby worlds. Unlocking the door, he slipped inside, and began searching the area for a computer or records room, listening all the while for the sounds of a security system or guard. The building was dark and silent. The Doctor worked quickly, down the hall past rows of clerks offices, until he hit upon the one that looked the most promising.
It was a large computer room with terminals and banks of heavy equipment. Recognising the system, the Doctor knew he could access any information that was stored in the building from here. Sonic screwdriver still in hand, he put on his glasses, sat down at a terminal and got to work.
And then he stopped when he heard a noise.
The Doctor froze and listened. It wasn't footsteps, like the kind you'd expect from a confident but unsuspecting night watchman strolling down the hall, but the sound of gentle scuffling accompanied by very light breathing. It was the sound of someone trying not to be caught. Someone like him. Could there be two of us here looking for information, he wondered, as he turned from the monitor and peered into the black of the machinery room. He wasn't sure, but someone was definitely hiding in here.
The Doctor put his glasses back in his pocket, got up and crept towards the sound. He heard it shift, and then an almost imperceptible sharp intake of breath. He was close -- too close -- and they were scared. Probably best to warn them, in case they have a weapon, he thought. Never sneak up on someone who's got a weapon.
Hands out front, stepping lightly, he whispered to the shadows, "I can hear you. Come on now, who's there?"
No answer.
"It's all right," the Doctor tried again, "I'm not here to arrest you. I just want to talk."
The shadow began to take shape as it crept towards the light. The Doctor held very still and waited.
"I don't believe it," came the smooth cultured voice of a female.
She emerged and stood fully, clothed in black to match her silken raven hair, just as she had been the last time he had seen her.
"Doctor?" she said.
"Christina!" the Doctor replied. "What are you doing here?"
"Working," she said simply.
As the Doctor came closer he saw that her feet were surrounded by machine parts, the largest of which she held in her hand. The Doctor was gobsmacked, his tongue stumbling over every question he meant to ask as they bottlenecked their way out his mouth. Where to even begin? The last time he had seen the Lady Christina de Souza she had been an Earth fugitive, stealing away in an anti-gravity bus that as far as he could recall, didn't have the thrust to make it into orbit. Yet she had somehow made it to another galaxy.
And of all the planets in all the galaxies in the universe, she had to wind up on this one.
The Doctor's befuddled stare made it quite obvious that an explanation was in order so without further prompting, she explained, "That time I spent with you... well, it seems I got a taste for it. Turns out intergalactic space transport from Earth is rather simple if you know where to look, and you're not too choosy about your company. I hitched rides with a few unsavoury characters, paying my way at first until the money ran out and since then I've hired myself out for...odd jobs to keep going."
"Odd jobs?" he repeated.
"Quite odd," she said, smiling, "The odder the better."
"You're a mercenary," he realised.
"Oh come now," she pouted, "You know it's never about the money. I'm simply doing what I do best to enable me to continue travelling and exploring. Like you."
"No," the Doctor replied, feeling his anger rise. "Not like me." He stepped closer and surveyed the machinery that Christina had been disassembling for parts. "Do you even know what it is you're stealing?"
Christina shrugged, "Just some bits and pieces, engine parts for ships. My client needed someone who could get in and out of facilities in this system unnoticed. The people here appear mostly humanoid. Since this is a government office, they'll requisition a new part in the morning and no harm done. It shouldn't take them more than four to six weeks and they're good as new." She laughed. "You can hardly even call it a crime."
"You mentioned more than one facility, so you've done this before?" he asked her.
"What business is it of yours?" she asked, squaring her shoulders, her smile fading.
"Where were you last? What planet?" he asked.
"Some planet called Dysillon, I think," she said with little interest.
"And before that," the Doctor asked with urgency, his suspicion rising as the pieces fell into place.
Christina thought harder with a frustrated sigh, "Well it hardly matters, but if you must know, possibly Alpha 16. It's difficult to keep them straight they all start to look alike after a while."
"Christina," said the Doctor, "those planets are now dead, their atmospheres were destroyed." He pointed to the machinery. "What you've got there is a machine that maintains an atmospheric shell. Disassemble it and this planet will be vulnerable to attack."
Christina crossed her arms over her chest, "And how do you know that?"
"It's a common tactic in this century," he said, "remove the shell and everything dies. Then the attackers can swoop in and lay claim to the planet's resources. You may not realise it but you're committing sabotage. And mass murder."
"I don't believe you," she said. Christina turned back to the litter of parts and surveyed them. Selecting one, she placed it in her pack and swung the bag onto her shoulders. "These are spare parts, nothing more."
"Who's your client?" asked the Doctor.
Christina ignored the question. When she was finished packing up she turned to him, "This is just a job, I do it and I move on. What happens after that is not my problem. I don't deal in politics."
The Doctor felt his blood boil tempered only by his disappointment. He clenched his fists to keep his emotions in check.
"Typical aristocracy," he spat, "I thought you were different."
Christina matched his glare with one of her own, "I really was glad to see you, Time Lord. Now, it's a big universe, so if you wouldn't mind, you can shove off."
The Doctor watched as Christina turned and ran. He started to yell for her and then stopped himself, remembering that he wasn't meant to be here either. It would have been a double indignity if he were to be caught holding the bag, or the plundered machinery, or whatever. Suddenly he remembered the more immediate matter of the atmospheric shell. He ran to the terminals, and the readouts confirmed his suspicion. The atmospheric integrity of the planet had been reduced to 45%.
If he didn't act, this planet would end up just like the others.
Examining the shell stabiliser, he quickly learned that he couldn't repair the machine without the stolen part, and it was unlikely to be replaced before the shell collapsed, causing a planet wide disaster. That was her client's plan after all, whether Christina realised it or not. He had to somehow get that part back.
The Doctor returned to the TARDIS and scanned for any ships in orbit waiting to attack but he saw nothing but a small vessel large enough for a single occupant only, already departing. Waiting here for Christina's clients to appear wasn't an option, since the planet will have suffocated by then. In the meantime, Christina was likely on her way to the next planet, to wreak the same havoc all over again. He knew he had to go after her, make another attempt to stop her, and find out who she's working for.
She may not know what she's doing but her clients are using her, he reasoned, which apart from the destruction she's causing means she could also be in danger. He set his coordinates to follow the one woman ship.
~*~
Urfon was the last living planet in the system, so the Doctor was not surprised to see the trail led there. He parked the TARDIS near a similar looking ministry building and stepped out. It was still nightfall, as it had been on Taractus. With a sensation of déjà vu, he entered the offices and found Christina again in the equipment room, crouched down on the floor dismantling a similar machine. When he entered she startled and then relaxed and rolled her eyes.
"Oh, it's you," she said, returning to her work with a torch in one hand and a spanner in the other, "I thought I told you to get lost."
"Christina," the Doctor began, "you have to trust me. You're in way over your head. Stealing trinkets from museums on Earth is one thing, but out here your actions can have consequences you've never even dreamed of."
Christina continued working, removing parts, pretending to ignore him.
He continued, coming closer, "Your clients aren't just travellers, they're invaders, and they've been following behind you systematically destroying and plundering each planet as you go. The technology you're taking is leaving each world defenceless. You're enabling them to kill!"
"Keep your voice down," she admonished with a harsh whisper, "they have sound sensors in here."
"Maybe you should be caught if it's the only way to stop you," he said.
She dropped the spanner she had been using and turned to him, exasperated, "Are you always this self righteous? Look, I'm rather busy! If you're not here to help me or arrest me then just go away!"
"I'm trying to help you!" yelled the Doctor, throwing up his hands in despair.
Their argument was cut short by the harsh shrill of an alarm.
"Now you've done it," said Christina angrily.
Standing up, she abandoned the parts and her tools, hoisted her bag over her shoulder, and in a swift movement stepped forward and grabbed hold of the Doctor's wrist. He looked down in surprise and tensed, but before he had a chance to pull free Christina slapped a badge she was wearing and activated a transporter.
~*~
The Doctor knew instantly he was being transported somewhere but he assumed he would find himself out in the Urfon streets where Christina would then make her escape to her waiting ship. Instead, when his senses cleared and his eyes adjusted to the light he saw nothing but rock from floor to ceiling. It looked like they had transported to the inside of a cave.
"What are we doing here?" the Doctor asked, studying the surroundings.
On second glance he noticed the cave was narrow, and there were light fittings set into the rock wall every metre or so, leading to the left and to the right. This isn't a cave, he realised, it's a corridor.
"Well I couldn't just leave you down there, could I? If you were caught you would have told the police everything," she said, as she turned to the left and began walking swiftly, "What else was I going to do with you?"
The Doctor followed. As he walked he ran his fingers along the sharp multihued rock that protruded from the walls, and smelled the damp, mouldy air. For the first time he noticed the ground was vibrating beneath his feet.
"This feels familiar," he muttered. "I've been here before... or somewhere like it."
"Really, how interesting," said Christina in a flat monotone, sounding not very interested at all and increasing her pace.
"Excuse me, but where are we going?" the Doctor called after her.
"Well, thanks to you I was unable to complete my mission, and now I have some explaining to do," she replied, irritation in her voice. "I'm walking until I find someone in charge."
"Oh, so I'll finally get to meet these clients of yours?" he said, jogging a few steps to catch up to her. "Good, because I'd like to have a word with them. If you won't listen to me perhaps they will."
Christina laughed as they reached the end, turned a corner and started down an identical corridor, "I doubt that."
"I can be very persuasive," he said, with a hint of threat.
Christina turned to him and matched his stare, "Well you failed to impress me."
The corridor ended in a large chamber. What the Doctor had already suspected was true -- they were on the bridge of a ship. The operations consoles looked like living rock formations into which electronics had been installed. In the centre was a rock pillar that extended to the ceiling. Standing at the entrance with Christina, the Doctor looked around at the crew, dressed in blood red robes and helmets shaped like the skulls of wild animals. From behind the pillar stepped the Captain, festooned in sashes and badges like war trophies and sporting an enormous broadsword.
Just like the one that had cut off the Doctor's hand on Christmas Day.
"Small world," the Doctor muttered.
"You know them?" asked Christina, surprised.
"The Sycorax?" the Doctor said as the Captain approached them, "You could say that, yeah."
"The Doctor! On my ship!" he raged, finger pointing, "How long have I hunted you to avenge the deaths of my brethren! MURDERER!"
"You hypocrite," said Christina quietly.
"Well, it's a long story," he sighed, and then he took a step forwards and addressed the Sycorax Captain loudly, "It's been a while, but I see you lot haven't changed a bit! Still attacking defenceless planets then are you?"
"Guards, take these prisoners!" the Captain ordered.
Two Sycorax guards appeared and took hold of the Doctor and Christina. Christina struggled, indignant as a guard removed her bag.
"Wait! Stop! Why are you arresting me?" she asked.
"You brought the Doctor on this ship," replied the Captain, "You are a spy. You are working for the Doctor, and he has taught us that humans cannot be trusted. You will both be imprisoned."
"Now hang on!" she argued as they were dragged off back down the corridor, "You can't do this! I'm not a spy! I don't even know him! I'm working for you!"
The Doctor felt the guard's clawed gloves digging deep into his arms. He stumbled as they were marched down the hall and into a room containing a rock cell with an iron door. The guard that held Christina opened the door and at once they were both thrown inside and the door bolted shut behind them.
~*~
Christina put her face up against the small viewing hole in the door and continued her tirade, "You still owe me for that part on Taractus! We had a deal! You need me!"
As she ranted and screamed the Doctor quickly removed his sonic screwdriver and tried it on the door but was not surprised to find it deadlocked. With a sigh he tucked the device back into his pocket, turned and took a seat in the corner on the stone floor. He sat quietly with his elbows on his knees until Christina wore herself out. Finally she turned on him.
"This is all your fault," she told him.
"My fault?" asked the Doctor, looking up at her, "How do you reckon that?"
"If you had left like I told you and not followed me this wouldn't have happened," she said simply.
The Doctor stared at her. "I couldn't do that," he said softly.
Christina softened at the sight of him, now fully out of steam, "No of course not." She sat down next to him on the floor, shoulders touching. "Look at us," she said, "We're a team again. I really am glad to see you. Maybe it was meant to be."
The Doctor just looked at her, his expression flat. "Maybe I shouldn't have helped you escape the first time, back on Earth," he said.
"But you did," said Christina, "and why was that?"
The Doctor thought. "I suppose I saw a bit of myself in you -- your taste for thrill, your sense of adventure. I couldn't bear to think of you in a cage, because I knew what that would do to me."
She looked around at their surroundings, "I don't need to point out the irony now, do I?"
The Doctor flashed a brief smile before turning serious again, "But the Sycorax, Christina, you don't want to mix with that sort."
"So who are they anyway," she asked him, "and why are they out to get you?"
"Oh, it was a misunderstanding really," he shrugged, "but it may have involved one of their ships being lost. Well, when I say lost, I mean blown apart along with everyone in it...after I killed their leader in a swordfight. But wait, don't you remember? That spaceship at Christmas a few years back? The Guinevere One space probe?"
Christina thought and then nodded, "I thought they looked familiar, we've actually never met face to face before today. Our dealings were always conducted through an intermediary. So why didn't they attack the Earth this way, like they're doing to the planets now?"
"The Earth still has a natural atmosphere, for now," he replied, "So they had to resort to blood control then. A rubbish tactic but they're nothing if not versatile."
"The people on the roof," Christina recalled, understanding.
The Doctor looked at her. "So, I take it you're not 'A positive'?"
Christina smiled. "Let's get back to that equipment I stole. Assuming I now believe you, you said something before about an atmospheric shell?"
"The planets in the Falaxi system were terraformed for habitation and maintain their atmosphere through artificial means," he explained, "It's like a bubble surrounding the planet, much easier to compromise than the real thing."
Christina looked around again at their cramped cell. "This is my first time on one of their ships. The transporter badge is just for emergencies, in case I need to deliver the merchandise in a hurry. It's only short range. I've never used it before. But then, emergencies always seem to happen when you're around, don't they?"
The Doctor smiled, "Well, it's more fun that way."
~*~
After what felt like several hours, two Sycorax guards returned to the cell. The Doctor heard their footsteps and nudged Christina, who had dozed off on his shoulder. She woke and they both stood just as the guards threw back the heavy iron door. They walked in silence at first, exchanging only glances, while the Doctor tried to come up with a means of escape. The fact that they were being taken from their cell could only mean one thing -- the Sycorax Captain had finally decided what to do with them. Whatever it was, the Doctor knew it would not be good.
"I hope you've got a plan," murmured Christina as they were ushered down the corridor.
"Actually, I was hoping you had," the Doctor murmured back, "they're your clients after all. I assume you have a contract. Isn't there any fine print or loopholes in the event one party is out to destroy the world?"
"It was more of a gentleman's agreement," she replied.
"Oh," said the Doctor, "good to know the honour system's still in use in some places, then. Well, not here. It's not very useful now, is it?"
"Shut up," she said, smiling through gritted teeth.
As if in agreement, his guard shot him an angry glare and delivered a poke to the ribs with his staff.
"Ow. Right," he sighed, "shutting up."
The guards led them to another cave-like room, smaller than the bridge but larger than their cell. Computers and equipment lined the walls and blinked. Wires and cables ran from one of the larger machines and connected to a chair that protruded out into the centre of the space. The Doctor felt a cold chill creep up his spine. The Sycorax were not known for their humane treatment of prisoners and he didn't like the look of that chair.
The Sycorax Captain stood in the room awaiting their arrival. In his hands was Christina's black bag, confiscated earlier. As she and the Doctor entered with the guards, The Captain tossed the now empty bag back to Christina, who caught it in her arms.
The Captain spoke to her, "You did not retrieve the merchandise from Urfon. We had an arrangement. The equipment must be retrieved."
"But if I do that you'll destroy the planet," she said.
"If you refuse, we will kill you both," countered the Captain, "and I have special plans for the Doctor, as retribution for his past crimes."
At the Captain's signal the guard closest to the Doctor grabbed him by the arms and began half dragging, half carrying him to the restraint chair. The Captain then took up his electric whip, the Sycorax weapon of choice, from his belt and held it aloft.
"Now hang on," said the Doctor as he struggled, "aren't you overreacting just a bit?"
But the guard was too strong. The Doctor was held down, then a switch was thrown and restraints activated around his wrists, ankles and neck. In the next instant there was a humming sound and a vibration as an energy field was activated around the chair. The Doctor stiffened. It felt oddly suffocating, like a large invisible weight was pressing down on him.
"I don't suppose you'd just take a little bit off the top?" he deadpanned.
Christina watched helpless and confused, "What are you doing? What is that thing?"
"This device will suppress all cellular activity, preventing regeneration when the Time Lord dies," said the Captain. "It was developed after the destruction of our sister ship in the hope that we would one day meet and their deaths could be avenged. There is one installed on every Sycorax ship. I am honoured to be the one who will have the opportunity to use it."
"Regeneration?" asked Christina, confused, turning to the Doctor, "What's he talking about?"
"It doesn't matter," the Doctor told her, fighting to suppress his own panic, "you can't steal the device no matter what. They're going to kill millions."
"You're willing to die over this," Christina said, realising in horror.
"You are running out of time, human," the Captain told Christina. "The people of Urfon will soon be notified of your theft on Taractus and your opportunity will be lost. You must go now!"
Christina stood, frozen on the spot, her eyes darting back and forth between the Doctor and the Sycorax Captain.
"Captain," the Doctor said, "just let her go. She doesn't know what she's doing. She's not a space traveller. It's me you want so you can have me if you let her go."
"Doctor..." Christina began in protest.
"Perhaps you have failed to notice Doctor that I have you already," replied the Captain.
And with that he pulled the large whip back and snapped it forward. The tip connected with the Doctor's chest with a flash of electric blue light and a horrific zapping sound. The Doctor screamed and bucked against the restraints.
Christina flinched and felt a tear escape and run down her cheek.
"Stop it!" she cried. "I'll go!"
"Christina," pleaded the Doctor, breathing heavily, "I'm begging you don't steal that part. It doesn't matter what they do to me, don't cause any more damage than you already have."
The Sycorax Captain responded with another lash. The Doctor convulsed and groaned, tasting blood as he bit down on his tongue. The Captain turned to Christina, "You will return with the part in one hour or you will both die. We have confiscated your ship and there is no escaping us."
They're going to kill me too, she thought, frightened. If I don't steal that part, they'll find me. One way or another, they would find me. I have no choice. The Doctor was looking at her now with desperation in his eyes, but she couldn't bear to look and averted her gaze.
"Maybe this is all in a day's work for you," she told him sadly, "but I didn't sign up for this. I'm sorry, Doctor. I really am sorry."
Christina hit her transporter badge and disappeared.
~*~
Time lost all meaning, but the Doctor knew it hadn't yet been an hour since Christina had gone because he was still alive. For now he was still alive and he had to hang on to that. He wasn't sure what hurt more, the shocks from the Captain's whip, or the painful realisation that he had failed to get through to her.
"Your companion has abandoned you Doctor," mocked the Captain, circling the chair like a hungry tiger.
"She's not my...," slurred the Doctor, but he was too tired to complete his sentence.
It didn't matter anyway. The Captain was just taunting him, and had been for some time, in between lashings. At first the Doctor had taunted back, reminding the Captain of the Sycoraxes' humiliating defeat at the hands of lowly humans, but now he was conserving his remaining energy just to stay conscious. He was determined not to give his torturer the satisfaction of seeing him defeated.
His arms and legs were numb, but his chest felt like there was an elephant sitting on top of it, crushing his ribs. If the Sycorax was going to kill him he wished he would just get on with it. But obviously he was taking pleasure in dragging it out, emboldened by the Doctor's pain.
"You are alone," said the Captain, words dripping with malice. "There is no one to save you now. You are as defenceless as the soldiers on the ship you destroyed."
He knew the Captain was beginning to wear him down, because, lacking the strength for a witty remark, he found himself uncharacteristically defending his actions. The Doctor shook his head slightly, restricted by the neck restraint.
"I didn't," he said. "There was a challenge. I won it...and sent them off."
"Lies," snarled the Captain. "You ordered the humans to fire upon our ship from the ground."
"No, I..." he started.
But his words were stopped dead by another lashing. The Doctor blacked out for an instant. When he awoke, he felt his hearts race and then settle into a disturbing arrhythmia. He knew he couldn't take much more of this. The next hit would likely kill him. He toyed with the idea of insulting the Captain's mother just to have done with it, but his brain had lost its ability to form a coherent sentence.
Death before poor grammar, he thought.
"In truth, you have not turned out to be as formidable an opponent as you once appeared, Doctor," sneered the Captain. "I must admit that I am disappointed. The hour has passed and still the female has not returned, and now you must die."
The Doctor closed his eyes and for the first time since being forced into the chair, he felt himself relax with the coming of the end. He could sense a bright blue light flash behind his lids, followed by the sound of sparks, a sizzle and the smell of something burning. The Doctor assumed it was the killing blow because he felt no pain...
...except that he still had awareness.
And if he could still think then he wasn't dead.
I think therefore I am, he said to himself, and he opened his eyes, curious...
...just as another bolt of blue shot out in his direction, splitting the room in half and landing somewhere a centimetre above his head, singeing his hair.
"What?!" he breathed.
The Doctor shrank down in the chair as much as the restraints would allow, which wasn't much but his finely tuned survival instinct insisted that he should. Then a second blast rang out and vaporised one of the Sycorax guards at his side. The Doctor flinched, feeling like a sitting duck. Was this a mutiny? An invasion force? He had to know, so he chanced a look up to spot the trigger man.
Or trigger woman, he realised.
Christina was back. Armed with a ridiculously large disrupter rifle that she obviously didn't know how to use, she fired randomly at her targets. The weapon had a furious kickback that nearly knocked it out of her hands with every wild shot. Aim was impossible, the Doctor saw, but being seconds from death he was grateful for any distraction no matter how ludicrous. For the moment anyway she had saved his life. He only hoped that Christina didn't now shoot him in the process of his rescue.
"Look what I found on Urfon," she said to the Captain and remaining Sycorax guard. "Better than a machine part, I'd say. Let him go."
Instead of obeying, the Captain, seeing her difficulty with the enormous gun, threw his head back and laughed. Then he raised his own weapon, bringing the whip back in his hand.
"Look out!" the Doctor shouted with a surge of adrenalin.
Christina dropped and rolled like an expert gymnast and then fired blindly over her shoulder. Her shot went wide and hit the Doctor's chair. More sparks flew and the chair collapsed to the floor in a smouldering heap with the Doctor still on top. Freed from the now non-functioning restraints, he leaned over and pitched himself to the floor. Flopping like a fish until his limbs regained sensation, he took cover awkwardly as shots continued to fire overhead.
The Sycorax were now returning fire with their whips which had extraordinary range and accuracy in such a confined space. The Doctor had survived several glancing blows, but he knew the damage would be far more irreparable to a human. Pinned down behind the ruined chair, he watched Christina from across the room, helpless as she fought to hold her ground with gunfire.
His hands shook madly and his chest still ached, but the Doctor took advantage of the distraction and crawled around to survey the remaining equipment. To his dismay he found that the computers were destroyed, so he would have no chance of helping her from there. He chanced a glance up to check on Christina. She was against a wall near the exit. Her gun was slamming into her shoulder with each round, and she was growing tired, likely too tired to think clearly. He needed to get to her.
The Captain and remaining guard were advancing on her from two directions. Just a few more steps and Christina would be unable to avoid their whips. The Doctor looked around for something to get their attention...
...and that was when he discovered the stolen part from Taractus on the side table behind the guard.
Crawling along the back wall, the Doctor got close enough and lunged for it, and as he did the guard turned and threw his whip. The Doctor flew into the table and the fingers of his right hand closed around the part, just as the guard's whip caught him on the left shoulder. He clenched his jaw to suppress a scream. A vicious vibration ran down to his fingers, turning his left arm numb again, but he still held the part in his right. With a grunt the Doctor shoved the part into his pocket and dove back behind the equipment and away from the now advancing guard.
He had gotten the guard's attention all right, and he now had no choice but to move in Christina's direction, directly in the path of her disrupter blasts.
Stuck between a rock and a hard place, he thought, quite literally.
He knew what the whips felt like, so with little option, the Doctor chose friendly fire. Flattening himself down like a trench soldier, he crawled his way under the blasts to where Christina crouched down low, still bravely fighting.
"Took you long enough," she said to him.
"I could say the same to you," he countered.
And that instant of a distraction was all it took. The Captain's whip lashed out and knocked the weapon from Christina's hands. She cried out in frustration as she saw it skid across the floor out of reach. They could do nothing as the Sycorax came closer and raised their whips. Christina, in pain and exhausted, fell back against the wall and looked at the Doctor sadly. Wordlessly, the Doctor took her hand and they helped each other to stand. He gave her a small smile.
"How touching," the Captain said. "Now you can die together."
"Not today thanks," replied the Doctor as he swung his free hand around and slapped the personal transporter on Christina's jacket.
There was one last blue flash of light and then they were both gone.
~*~
When they materialised, Christina fell into the Doctor's arms. He was so weary that he caught her and then sank to his knees. They stared at each other for a moment, catching their breaths, giggling uncontrollably despite their mutual and obvious aches and pains.
"You saved us," Christina said finally, still clinging tightly to his arms, "you did it!"
"I'd say it was more of a team effort," he replied. "You were brilliant. I knew you'd come back. Thank you."
Christina blushed slightly and looked away. Taking in her surroundings, she recognised the planet Urfon once again. In the near distance not thirty metres away she could see the Doctor's strange blue box standing tall. They both stood, the Doctor taking a moment to shake the feeling back into his arms and legs.
"So, off to your ship then for our last getaway?" she asked, ready to run.
"Not quite," said the Doctor, turning serious again. "There's one more thing we have to do first."
"What's that?" she asked.
He removed the stolen part from his pocket and tossed it to her. "You're going to return this to Taractus, and then we're going to save the planet."
Before she could argue the Doctor ran off towards the blue box. Christina sighed and followed but in truth she had had enough heroism for one day. What she really wanted was a good meal and a soft bed for about eight hours. Her thoughts of creature comforts were forgotten in an instant however, the moment she stepped inside the Doctor's ship.
What she had mistaken for a telephone box was in fact an enormous vessel. It was magnificent and magical. A time machine, he told her, 'dimensionally transcendental'.
"What?" asked Christina.
"Erm... it's bigger on the inside," the Doctor explained simply.
"I can see that," she said, looking around as the Doctor ran to the console.
He looked up at the central column that pulsed and glowed a gentle light and placed his fingers upon it.
"Did you miss me?" he asked it softly.
Christina watched mesmerised but a bit embarrassed as though she was intruding upon something private. The Doctor took a deep breath, and the contact seemed to energise him. All at once he bounced back and began operating the controls, eyes fixed to a screen.
"Right, next stop Taractus," he declared.
"So why can't we just go back in time to before this happened?" Christina asked.
The Doctor rolled his eyes and sighed as he frantically turned switches and flipped levers, including one that, oddly, resembled a bicycle pump. The gesture made Christina feel instantly stupid.
"Novices. I get so tired of explaining," he said, talking a mile a minute now. "Just... trust me. What's done is done and anyway you can't travel back along your own timeline. It can't work like that, you'd create more problems than you'd fix."
Christina relented, deferring to his superior knowledge of the subject and sat back in a chair as they travelled, rolling her neck and shoulders and resting her tired muscles. She watched him work, communicating with his ship as if through some unspoken language. There were tools scattered under the console and odd bits and pieces attached and hanging off everywhere.
He's been repairing this ship with junkyard parts, she realised.
It reminded her of a hobo's shopping trolley, and all at once she knew that this wasn't just his ship, it was his home, and quite possibly his family.
"Someday you're going to tell me your story," she said.
"My story would take years to tell," he said absently.
"Is that a promise?" she replied with a cheeky grin.
The Doctor glanced at her with a frown and then returned to the monitor.
"We're here!" he announced. "The planet's atmospheric shell integrity is down to 15%. Let's go, we haven't got much time."
They emerged on the steps of the ministry building on Taractus where they had first found each other. It was now dawn, and specialists were roaming the area. The Doctor could smell the panic. They made their way to the equipment room. The Taractan experts were no doubt discovering what the Doctor already knew -- that no repairs were possible without that missing part. The Taractan Chief Atmospheric Specialist Briggins was pacing the room when the Doctor and Christina entered.
"I can repair it but without that part it will take hours and the Sycorax are already in orbit preparing to strike!" Specialist Briggins lamented to two young assistants.
"Are you looking for this?" asked the Doctor as they approached, pointing to the part in Christina's hands.
"How?" began Briggins, "Where did you..."
"Never mind that now," said the Doctor, "We're here to help."
The Doctor ran to a terminal, threw on his glasses and started shouting out instructions. He pointed to the machine Christina had dismantled earlier.
"Christina," he told her, "Put that in the slot there and hold it down, I need to reboot the system with the part in place and it's going to take some time."
She felt the adrenaline rush as she obeyed, smiling to herself despite the danger. If life with the Doctor was always like this she never wanted to leave him. From her place she could see a monitor that measured the strength of the atmospheric shell. It read 8% integrity and dropping.
"Doctor!" she called, "the shell is at 8%!"
"Just hold that part!" he told her.
As they worked Specialist Briggins was at another console monitoring the advance of the Sycorax warship. There was a massive energy build up in the area of the ship's weapons.
"The Sycorax are in orbit and preparing to fire!" he cried.
"Come one, come on, doesn't this thing go any faster?!" complained the Doctor as he worked furiously, rapping the computer with his fist. "This government equipment is three generations old. Nothing changes."
He glanced at his own readout and saw the shell strength decreasing to 5%.
Suddenly there was a massive crack like thunder and the ground shook beneath them. Everyone fell to the floor but the Doctor was the first to recover, returning to the console. Christina was up next, her hands back on the part, holding it in place.
"What was that?" asked Christina.
"They're getting impatient," the Doctor said over his shoulder as he worked. "The Sycorax are firing on the shell to bring it down. Christina, are you still holding that part?"
"Yes, I've got it," she replied. She looked at her screen. "But the shell's nearly gone!"
"I know, working on it," said the Doctor. "The reboot is at 85%, just a few more sec..."
A second blast, much bigger than the first, struck and collapsed the shell.
The Doctor felt as though he had been struck on the head with a heavy, blunt object. There was an unbearable sensation of pressure as the temperature in the room dropped to frigid and the air was being sucked from the building. If they had been outside they would have been killed instantly, but as it was the building would only protect them for about twenty more seconds without atmosphere. The Doctor had to restore the shell and there was no time left to lose.
The reboot was at 96%. The Doctor blinked, focused and looked over at Christina, who was struggling valiantly, just as she had done on the Sycorax ship. She had dropped to her knees and was now struggling to breathe, but her hands were still in place on the machine part. The Taractans, whose body chemistries were no doubt slightly different, were now completely overcome, unconscious on the floor.
He returned his attention to his own screens. The reboot was at 99% and preparing to restart itself. He smiled despite a splitting headache and watched the readouts rise. The shell was repairing itself.
"25, 40, 65...75% and rising!" yelled the Doctor, triumphant. He felt the air returning to the room and the temperature stabilising. He ran to Christina and she jumped into his arms with an exultant cry. He could feel her still shivering.
"Are you all right?" he asked her.
"Never better," she said, smiling.
Specialist Briggins recovered, rose and returned to his monitor. He could scarcely believe his eyes.
"Our defences are restored! The Sycorax are retreating!" he cried.
"There now," the Doctor told him with a wicked grin, "nothing to it. All you needed was the proper part."
~*~
Before the Doctor and Christina were allowed to leave, Taractan officials insisted upon a lavish celebratory feast in their honour. The Doctor typically hated such a fuss being made on his account but the truth was he was famished after their long captivity, so with Christina's encouragement, he accepted and they stayed and became acquainted with the Taractans.
"The population was alerted to stay inside their emergency shelters the moment we discovered the shell had been compromised. Therefore there were no fatalities as a result of the collapse. I thank you Doctor, most sincerely," said the Taractan City Governor over drinks and delicious local delicacies. "We will now mourn for the loss of our sister worlds."
"I'm sorry I couldn't save them," said the Doctor. "I'll always remember Alpha 16. Brilliant place."
"Consider Taractus your home now," the Governor replied, "You and your companion are welcome here from this day forward and for all time."
"Oh, no she's not my...Oh, never mind," the Doctor replied. "Thank you."
A short while later, the Doctor and Christina made their goodbyes and started back to the TARDIS.
"That felt really good," Christina admitted.
"So are you glad now that you weren't a party to their murders?" the Doctor asked her.
"You're amazing," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Your ship was safe on Urfon, we could have easily escaped as soon as we were free of the Sycorax."
"Yeah, that would be the feeling good part," said the Doctor. "Saving myself at the cost of millions, that's not escape. You could never escape that."
There was a pause and then Christina spoke again with difficulty. "When I left earlier... back to Urfon to finish the job... there was a moment when I considered leaving you behind, just a moment. Find another client, hitch another ride, and I would have been gone so easily."
"Why didn't you?" he asked.
She thought, "Because I thought of you... back there with them and what they were doing to you...what you were willing to sacrifice...and I couldn't. I suppose I couldn't escape you."
The Doctor looked at her, "I guess you are different after all."
"I've never had to think of anyone besides myself before, I'm still getting used to it," she said. "And I'm sorry for everything I caused. You tried to tell me, but...I'm sorry I didn't listen. I'm normally so independent, doing everything on my own. It's not easy to admit when I'm incapable."
"I can understand that," he said. "Well, I'm quite capable actually, but there are times..."
"Times when you need someone?" she prompted.
The Doctor looked at her but didn't respond. Instead, he removed the TARDIS key from his trouser pocket and unlocked the door.
"So where to now?" Christina asked, sensing an opening.
But instead she felt deflated when the Doctor began setting the TARDIS controls and replied, "I'm taking you back to Earth, where you can stay out of trouble."
"No, but you can't!" she protested. "Look at how we've found each other again, we're meant to be together. And if I'm too dangerous to be left out on my own then there's nothing for it. You'll simply have to keep a closer eye on me."
The Doctor sighed, "I told you before..."
"I know what you said before," she said, "but today, on that ship, we saved each other again...and then we saved the whole bloody planet! You needed me. We could look out for each other. And besides," she added, smiling, "I just lost my biggest client because of you, I'm unemployed. The least you could do is give a girl a lift. Show her around the universe."
The Doctor was still staring down at the console, a million thoughts racing through his head at one time. There were a million ways this could go wrong, a million reasons why this was a mistake. But there was no denying they had been brilliant together. He had forgotten what that felt like. And at least while she was with him she would no longer be out there participating in the destruction of entire solar systems.
"Oh, I suppose," he said finally, "we could give it a try, for a little while anyway."
"Really?!" she replied. "Smashing! Off to our next adventure!"
"So," the Doctor began, smiling at her enthusiasm. He always loved this part. "Where do you want to go first?"