18
LIBERTY KILLERS
As smooth as coral yet as reflective as quartz, the interior of the small space ship gleamed and glistened as though brand new, it had an ageless, timeless quality to it and the soft rainbow glow emanating from its walls bathed the cockpit in ethereal colours.
Her face orange and hair blue the woman at the controls ignored the beauty of her own craft; she was far more concerned by what was going on outside it. An opening, a split had appeared in the seamless fabric of reality; gouging it open to expose a throthing, undulating tunnel many miles across and seemingly endless, something was travelling down this passing through its blazing heart.
Another ship the woman realised and totally different to anything she'd ever seen before, the contours were simple enough it had a central hub with three out reaching spokes leading to extruded cylinders. It didn't look military but had about it a sense of power and purpose, plus it was huge more than a thousand times the proportions of her own craft; it was armed to.
Bringing her probe to a dead stop the woman felt it buffeted by the dimensional winds, it could not be harmed not with the kind of shielding she had but the sensation was unpleasant it made her dizzy; she felt exposed to the kind of rough and tumble she hadn't experienced in a long time.
Swiftly the alien craft entered her reality and behind it the gouge in space shimmered as if about to collapse – but it did not, there was no closure no termination of the gateway between universes for along it something else travelled, three distinct black shapes - narrow, streamlined, sharp fined and undeniably malign. They were smaller than the first craft but they appeared to be pursuing it as dogs would chase a fox.
Now where had that analogy come from thought the woman it wasn't native to her own world or upbringing, but some vulgar reference from past adventures?
She watched enthralled as the giant ship and the three ebony hunters cleared the rift, then and only then did this seal and even then not fully leaving behind a blistered scar, an unhealed wound that could be torn back open at any time.
Force field failing said an icon by the woman's left hand and she felt as well as saw power bleed from her instruments, but why was it happening she couldn't be affected by the rift? Force field deactivated another icon informed her as it flashed angrily. She touched sensor pads to correct the error if it was an error but nothing she did was effective, employing her mind-link with the probe she sent it urgent commanding thoughts. Normally this never failed so in tune was she with her craft, a craft designed especially for her and no one else; a privilege of her rank and attainments.
Something seized the woman; she felt it wrap around her from the feet upwards a blanket of energized atoms. It had crept into her probe unbidden and was now consuming her as a soft patina of white light, she tried to grab hold of something but her fingers passed right through the console no longer substantial anymore than she was. Losing contact with her chair and the floor she experienced a sense of non-being, a formlessness she was like a ghost in her own ship and then….she was elsewhere.
The two men couldn't have been more different and not just in appearance either for they were the same age, but there all similarity ended. Whereas one was calm, focused and given to outbursts of great generosity the other was contained, cold, remote even detached from all emotion.
Gazing at his colleague (he would not call him a friend), the cold man let his features curl into a sneer as he argued his case. The first man listened intently but gave no sign that he agreed. Confident he was right he grinned back and made some light-hearted comment. It failed to defuse the situation. Then they arrived at their destination a wide open planned room, part of which was somehow cut off from the rest although by no physical boundary it was just distinct. It was here in this space that light flared as a zigzag of energy formed quite resolving itself into the shape of the woman.
Petite yet attractive she wore elegant, ceremonial clothing quite unlike the more utilitarian garb of the men, one of whom had thick curly hair and a square, honest face whereas his friend had a sly, calculating and rather ruthless aspect.
"Please don't be afraid," said the taller man.
"What do you think you're playing at," the woman had a natural authority about her born of breeding and education and she hid her fear well, the first man was impressed.
"May I ask who you are," he said softly making it sound like a casual request.
"You abduct me, teleport me here and you don't even know who I am," the woman threw back sharply but she made no move to leave where she stood.
"I'm sorry," the first man parted his hands and they were big hands, powerful and used to hard work.
"Who are you and what's going on," the blond woman softened her tone only a little.
The second man said, "We haven't got time for this they're almost on us and the power banks are down to 35, we can't run so we have to fight."
He sounded like he enjoyed fighting or at least saw it as a necessary expedient.
The three black ships thought the woman so they were hunters and this must be their prey, the huge silver craft with the three nacelles.
"Why have you lost so much power," the woman asked curious despite her predicament because their problem had suddenly become hers?
"We're not sure," said the first man, "Some new weapon perhaps or maybe it was wormhole."
These people didn't sound like they were used to intra-dimensional travel it had been imposed on them, maybe like her they were victims of this situation.
"Perhaps I can help," she said, "I have some knowledge of warp drive and dimensional transference."
The first man looked impressed, "Really," he said? But the second man was deeply distrustful. "No," he snarled.
"Come with me," said his colleague, "We have a bridge. My name is Blake by the way."
Well that was something they were offering to trust her and providing names; well one name.
"That's a human name," said the woman, "You're from earth?"
"Once," said the friendly man with a degree of irony.
The bridge was massive and impressive, like the ship it was not of human design but it had a human crew from what she could see – two other men and two women, one of the women was blond like her the other dark and….she gave off a strange and very different vibration, she looked human but somehow wasn't.
There was no time for introductions and the whole ship shook violently like it was caught in a cyclone, Blake held onto her his embrace strong and reassuring.
"Force wall failing," said the smallest, nerviest looking man, "They're moving in for the kill."
But this was obvious because the main viewer the trio of dark hunters had formed into a three-way pincer cutting off all escape routes.
"Do you have a central computer," the woman asked?
"Zen, prepare to receive instructions from…" Blake arched an eyebrow.
"Romana," the woman saw no point in concealing her identity any longer, it wouldn't mean anything to these people she was sure. Blake directed her to a large panel of winking, varicoloured lights; an interface.
"Can you hear me, Zen," she asked?
The reply was startling, "Confirmed," boomed an amplified male voice, "Lord President."
The six people gazed at Romana in disbelief, she ignored them as she gave rapid and precise instructions to Zen to reroute and reconfigure the ship's defence matrix. She didn't understand how this computer knew her identity but it hardly mattered at this stage, later she would demand to know if there was a later.
"Can you do it," she finally asked?
"The complex adjustments will take some time but they are feasible," thundered the disembodied voice.
"We don't have any time Blake," the dark shifty man snarled, Blake ignored him.
"Zen, begin at once," he turned to the tall willowy blond woman on his right, "Give the force wall everything we have Jenna, we have to buy that time somehow."
Nodding Jenna worked her console anxiously whilst the dark-haired woman Cally eyed Romana with narrowed, questioning eyes. Aware of the scrutiny and the power of the telepathy behind it Romana moved over to the main viewer, the hunters were spewing fire at their prey, crude plasma bolts a dirty but effective kind of weapon long illegal in her sector of space.
"We can't hold out for long," Blake breathed and she could see that.
"Have you enough energy for another teleportation," Romana asked startling him, he looked at Jenna who gave the slightest of nods.
"I think so," said Blake his words a question.
"Beam me onto the helm of the lead hunter."
Features pale and tense Blake ran a hand over his jaw, "That would be suicide, Federation soldiers shoot on sight."
She'd never heard of the Federation but it sounded like some militaristic, oppressive oligarchy and she'd bumped into a few of them in her time.
"I can't do any more good here Blake but if I can get aboard one of their ships I might be able to keep you alive."
"You don't owe us anything," he said.
"I owe you my life I think, these hunters knocked out my force field and you teleported me here to save my life."
Blake cast Avon a look which said against the wishes of some.
"I'm coming with you," Blake's decision was as surprising to her and hers had been to him, she found herself impressed by his courage. Avon was less so,
"Don't be stupid Blake, if she wants to commit suicide that's up to her but why should you?"
"I think she's doing the right thing, it may be our only chance."
"Plus," said Jenna with a smile, "If the Federation has developed some kind of wormhole technology we need to know how to deal with it."
Decisively Blake strode across the bridge in the direction of the teleport bay with Romana in toe, he paused only to look back at Avon.
"Anyway," he said, "With me gone that leaves in charge – isn't that what you've always wanted?"
Avon's eyes were like two black pits, but he said nothing.
It took only moments to reach the teleport bay and Jenna sidled over to its controls, she was a competent, capable woman as well as good looking and she was clearly attracted to Blake, a better friend to him than Avon, Romana mused but suddenly Jenna glanced up in horror.
She just had time to cry out Blake's name when the teleport bay lit up, flared and produced four distorted black zigzags, within seconds these had become darkly clad, helmeted, gun-carrying soldiers, hostile and poised. The men fanned out to cover everyone and Blake looked astounded like this could not be happening, did this Federation not have teleport technology?
The teleport bay lit up again and within moments a new figure had materialised quite different from the soldiers, different and even more sinister with eyes that glistened like those of a snake. Even though not armed the newcomer was somehow more dangerous, more capable and clearly in charge as one of the troopers saluted.
"Mission successful," he snarled. Ignoring him the newcomer sauntered off the teleport pad towards Romana, who realised with terror that she had been recognised.
The man's eyes blazed like two fiery comets about to explode, they gave off a yellowish green glow that attempted to bore into her mind. The man was not human despite his appearance he was quite tall with jet black hair and clothing to match. His skin was pale to the point of alabaster and he had self-possession that fully matched her own being someone used to being in command.
"Not entirely field sergeant," he purred. "This woman is to be teleported to the flag ship I will interrogate her personally." Blake was studied next; Romana was impressed by the way Blake stood his ground.
"This man is a political criminal," barked the sergeant but the dark haired alien sniffed impatiently as though fully well aware of this.
"Then he is your concern not mine," his gaze shot back to Romana and a gloved hand waved to the teleport pad. "Join me," said a silky smooth voice. Given that she had no choice Romana gave the most dignified shrug she could manage before complying.
Not interested in her the troopers shepherded Blake and Jenna to one side removing Blake's teleport bracelet, the sergeant seemed to enjoy shoving Blake about. "Inform the other rebel scum we've taken you hostage Blake and order them to come here – unarmed."
Roj met the man's gaze and held it remaining defiantly still. A blaster nudged his neck, "Do it!" Still Blake didn't move then the weapon slid over to Jenna.
"All right," Blake sighed not willing to see the blond woman hurt. Romana's last sight of him was turning to the wall mounted intercom, but there was a look of cunning determination in his eyes not abject surrender; he was not a man who gave up easily. Good, she was going to need someone like him if they were going to come through this. Then the teleport bay fizzed and fragmented around her fading away into a curious mist; when this cleared she was somewhere completely different.
The cargo bay was darkly walled and concave in shape, gently humming with power it was illuminated by long pale strips and at the far end was an incongruous shape a kind of dark, fluted column surely made of marble not metal it was completely out of place here as the federation ship struck here as being purely functional with no decorative or artistic touches.
"What do you think you're doing here," Romana turned on the man one of her own kind if his mental powers were any indication, she'd felt the curious psychic empathy as their minds touched? "You've given the human beings of this era access to technology way beyond their ability to cope with, certainly this federation will wreak havoc with it based on what I've seen of them so far; the military arm of a totalitarian state I should imagine."
"Something like that," the man confirmed, "And I haven't given them access to anything I control the intra dimensional tunnel it's being generated by," he nodded at the fluted column.
"How have you managed to keep those helmeted thugs out of it or have you been stupid enough to permit them access?"
The man's smile frosted over and his manner lost some of its relaxed warmth, he didn't like that she thought he didn't enjoy being called stupid. "You have to let me go," she said, "You can't interrogate someone of my importance."
The look he gave her made it plain what he thought of her current status, she wasn't a Lord President here just another traveller another lost time lord just like him.
"Romana I can do anything I like to you and nobody will ask any questions, you are a prisoner of the federation you were found aboard the craft of known criminals that makes you a criminal."
"Poppycock," but this was just bluster she knew his argument held some authority.
"Blake is a terrorist and so are the people who fly with him, by definition that makes you one as well Romana. Under federation law you have no rights, I could order your execution now and those uniformed oafs would happily shoot you."
Yes they looked the type all muscle and no brain, she began to feel a tinge of desperation.
"You said you were going to interrogate me," she reminded.
"A polite fiction."
"So what are you going to do with me," nothing pleasant if the brief taste of his psyche was any guide?
"You've already referred to your importance," the word was sneered, "It seems foolish to let it go to waste you are after all president of the high council, as hostages go you are the cream of the crop; I can't let an opportunity like this slip out of my hands."
So she was a bargaining chip he was going to hold her to ransom but for what, what could a man like this possibly want from Gallifrey and what made him think the high council would give it? Yes she was lord president but presidents came and went, in the end they were all expendable.
"Money," she spat, "Power or do you imagine they'll offer you an amnesty?"
The man patted his elegant clothes and rubbed the gold rings on his fingers he had no need of wealth, the federation could provides that.
"Blake and his ship are worth millions," he confirmed.
"Power then," she said.
"I already have it."
"Amnesty?"
"You think I want forgiveness from the time lords, some empty gesture they can rescind at a moment's notice. Oh no Romana my ambition goes far beyond such trifles."
They came, reluctantly but they came all but one and the absence of Avon wasn't a total surprise to Blake he'd have been amazed if the cynical computer fraudster would have lamely trooped into the teleport bay.
"One is missing," said the sergeant.
"He's hiding from you," said Vila a man used to running and hiding.
"He doesn't care what you do to us," added Gan a giant of a man who made the soldiers take a step back even though they were armed and he wasn't.
The sergeant glared at Blake, "Order him to appear."
"He wouldn't do it even if you threatened to shoot us all," Roj replied, the reply was considered then a communicator was raised, extra troops were ordered to search the Liberator - Avon would be tracked down and shot on sight.
"What are you going to do to us," asked Cally an attractive girl that the sergeant's eyes played over appreciatively?
"That's not up to me, I'm just following orders."
"From the man in black, the civilian," Blake probed?
"He's a consultant an advisor employed by Space Command."
"What is his name?"
The sergeant frowned not liking to be questioned by a prisoner, his blaster moved to Blake's chest.
"I want access to this ship's main computer, Zen I think it's called."
"You're very well informed," said Jenna.
"Very well armed to, don't make me insist."
Blake sighed wondered what Avon was up to on his own, "That can only be done from the bridge," he said.
The gun waved, "Then that's where you and I are going." None of the other soldiers made to follow something Blake noted with interest it was just him and the sergeant, one against one an even match.
They had walked only a short distance when the lights in the corridor flickered alarmingly; it was like a power surge or a power bleed.
The sergeant came to an immediate stop, "What the hell's going on Blake?"
Roj wasn't sure unless Avon was behind it, before he could even shrug a bolt of electrical energy jagged and brilliant shot down from the ceiling to hit the sergeant making his body glow bright blue.
Not even screaming the man collapsed into a heap, Blake ran to check for a pulse. "Avon," he hissed, "Avon."
But the voice that echoed around him was not that of the sly man it wasn't even human, "Confirmed," said the voice of the ship's computer.
"Zen, how did you do this?"
"I was enabled thanks to the upgrades initiated by Romana."
Blake was intrigued, "What else can you do that you couldn't do before?"
Zen told him.
Avon was no fool he was a born survivor who'd been hunted by federation thugs before and this bunch were nothing special in his view. Unseen his made his way via a service duct to the teleport bay, the flickering lights worried him for a moment but they soon calmed down. Peering through a grill he made out Cally, Jenna, Vila and Gan but no sign of Blake, however he could see the federation goons hanging around as if waiting for something.
Their senior officer seemed to be missing, these were just privates. Possibly the CO had taken Blake to the bridge it would be a logical course of action, the sort of thing Avon himself would do. Quietly but efficiently he began to undo the grill before him, he was good at this sort of thing after years of practise but someone noticed him typically it was that little sneak thief Vila; whose eyes widened in horror.
A born coward Vila was the sort of man who didn't like to rock the boat or take any risk he didn't have to and he clearly didn't fancy being shot by FEDSEC. Ignoring the shaking head Avon continued to ease the grill loose of its fittings, once he had enough room he prized a leg free of the vent duct but in doing so he lost his grip on the grill. It fell from his fingers and the edge of it clanged noisily on the floor. At once the guards spun his way weapons coming up, damn thought Avon he was caught cold and didn't have time to use his own weapon.
Cally kicked one guard karate-style on the jaw, her boot smashing him with knockout force. Gan bear hugged another, crushing him in those massive arms of his. That left just one free and he hesitated giving Avon the chance he needed to shoot free of the duct, rise to his full height and plant a haymaker on the man's chin.
The fight was over in seconds, "thank you," Avon said grudgingly to his crew mates, "Where's Blake?"
"Right here," said a familiar voice as Roj appeared with the sergeant's blaster, "Thanks to Zen."
The others frowned at this all except for Avon, "Romana," he grumbled and Blake smiled.
"I think it's time we rescued her this time," he said.
"How can we," Vila squeaked; wondering if it meant putting his own life in jeopardy.
"Oh you'd be surprised," said public enemy number one.
Romana was at first disbelieving when the Master told her what he intended to do, it seemed so unlikely then she was outraged because with her help he could probably succeed she was after all the president of the high council and keeper of the matrix on Gallifrey; if anyone had unrestricted access it was her.
"You're mad," was her initial response to his demand followed by, "It won't do you any good," she finished with, "I've no intention of helping you."
His smile didn't diminish with any of these utterances like he'd expected them, expected them and knew exactly how to answer her.
"Not even to save the Doctor," he replied and it was the winning card, the ace in the pack; the one thing guaranteed to blow away any objection she might raise. Pale cheeked Romana gazed back at him as if not understanding what he'd said at first, not quite taking it in.
"He is within my grasp," said the Master calmly, "I can destroy him any time I want."
She shook her head to deny it so he turned to a screen on the side of his own TARDIS, a viewing port built into the skin of the craft it soon filled with a royal flush of spiralling colours that formed a familiar pattern to her – she knew she was looking into the heart of the matrix. Moments later the spiral made way for a landscape of trees, grass, small mounds and a river.
The view panned over this pleasant vista until it came to a larger mound, four stakes had been hammered into the ground and tied to them by wrist and ankle was a man she recognised at once. He was young looking thirtyish with a full head of dark, Byronic curls his face thin yet dignified although strained now and damp with perspiration. He wore 19th century clothing stained in places, torn in others and on his forehead was a livid blemish where he'd been struck.
"You know what that mound is of course don't you," the Master taunted and Romana found she did she recognised this part of the matrix as a graft, an add-on from another world a more primitive planet that the master had visited and somehow harvested.
"The insects within it are carnivorous and at a signal from me they will pore out of their nest all over the Doctor, devouring him."
It could have been a bluff of course but somehow she didn't think so, it looked real enough and there was no denying the fear and defeat on the Doctor's face; not her Doctor but another incarnation after her time. Even so she felt a painful longing to help him to ease his suffering he was after all still her friend and mentor they had shared so much together.
"An appalling and painful death," came the mockery, "Not all that swift either not if I don't want it to be you see I can control the insects, moderate their appetite and extend the event almost indefinitely. They will eat him a bit at a time if I like, a foot one day a hand the next then an eyeball," the chuckle was mirthless and Romana swung to the man beside her raising a hand to strike him.
Catching her wrist was easy holding it even easier, "My dear madam president how most unbecoming."
She almost swore at him spitting out a primitive earth insult, she'd certainly learned plenty of them thanks to her time with the Doctor she could even swear in French. But no she wouldn't sink to that level, wouldn't drag herself down to the level of this degenerate he wasn't worth it.
He let her go and she sagged in apparent defeat, "All right I'll do what you want, I'll take you to Gallifrey and get you into the matrix," her mind worked furiously on why he wanted to return after all this time what he had to gain by taking such a risk?
A sudden violent shake caught them both by surprise and for the first time the Master lost his expression of smug triumph, moving away from her he lifted his left wrist upon it was a bracelet made of alloys only found on Gallifrey it was black with silver studs and Romana recognised it as a complex sensory device.
"Impossible," came the hiss, "Somehow all the computers aboard this ship have been frozen including all the guidance and navig….," he cut off and from his lips came one word, a word she'd never heard before, "Orac!"
Blake beamed with pleasure and even the normally dour Avon had a twinkle in his eyes, Vila had no such reservations he leapt up out of his seat with delight. Turning to Avon and Jenna, Blake gave crisps instructions then he nodded to the little thief to activate the teleport controls. Nimble fingers played over these pressing and cajoling then two luminous toggles were pulled backwards and the three figures before Vila distorted, shimmered and vanished.
Romana felt it at the same time as the Master, that build up of static potential that preceded any transmat operation. Reacting with fury the dark eyed man swung towards her his features contorted with rage, you have betrayed me said the gleam in his eyes tried to trick me and because of that the Doctor will die.
"No," Romana screamed almost adding a please; she would have said anything to stop the Master doing what he did next. Raising his bracelet he prepared to issue a verbal command that would infuriate and energize the lethal insects in that mound. Romana did the only thing she could, she flung herself on the Master rugby tackling and taking him crashing to the ground.
It wasn't exactly Venusian Aikido but it was the best she could do and it worked, crashing onto his back the Master lay there momentarily stunned just long enough for her to grasp the bracelet and wrench it free of his arm. A few feet away three ghostly figures began to take shape in the air surrounded by a brilliant super luminous cocoon of teleport energy.
Romana had never been happier to see anyone in her life, except possibly one person. Blake looked at her then at the figure on the ground, his features darkened into an aspect of distaste.
"This ship isn't going anywhere," he announced, "And neither is our friend there."
Romana sighed because she knew the second part of the statement wasn't true, the Master had to come with her he had to be taken out of this time zone and removed from the clutches of the federation plus she needed him to show her where exactly in the matrix the Doctor was being held.
"I'm going to use the Master's TARDIS to send you home to your universe Blake," she said.
Avon aimed his gun at the prone figure, "Why not just kill him instead?"
Carefully Blake eased the gun aside before asking, "You won't be coming with us I take it?"
Romana's expression answered for her so the burly man offered his hand, "Thank you for your help."
Genuinely touched by this she smiled back at him wishing she could help him in his struggle against the federation further, but she'd done too much already; there were certain laws that even time lords had to observe.
"I have to free a good friend of mine, someone I haven't seen in a long time."
Jenna gazed at the darkly clad figure on the floor who was coming around she said, "I wouldn't trust him an inch, he reminds me of Travis."
Both Blake and Avon reacted to the sound of this name but it meant nothing to Romana. Avon was drawn to the tall column on the far side of the room, extending a hand he touched it shocked by the vibration he gave off. "A TARDIS did you call it, how does it function?"
Romana smiled to herself that was a secret she really would have to keep to herself.
Blake said, "If you need any help with this Master," but Romana shrugged it off he was her problem.
