The station had, quite obviously, been abandoned for some time. Old, rusted tools rested on tables, many of which had collapsed over the years. Doors had rusted shut along the perimeter of the room, but they barely stood out against the pattern of decay that decorated the filthy walls.
The only illumination in this miserable place came from a window, though the thick coating of grime and the small bit of rock that had embedded itself in the thick glass from the other side made that light barely anything at all.
All in all the place was both dark and miserable. The life support was starting to spark to death, and it was highly apparent that the place wasn't up to any safety standards from any planet in the entire universe.
It was only when a low hum began to reverberate through the ship and a bright blue light began winking in and out of view in time both with the noise and the appearance of a shoddy blue box that one would have noticed anything remarkable to distinguish this room from any of the other dozens like it.
When the box finally appeared it seemed as if it were a clown car due to the number of people who exited. Two people, and in this case a very tight squeeze, would have probably fit into the box, yet in this case three exited, none of them looking the slightest bit rumpled, though the first to exit looked considerably unhappy. It might have been because his speech was being interrupted by reality.
"Ah, the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Era!" he had said mere moments ago, "We've fixed it twice… Damned thing had better work this time…"
Upon stepping out of the Tardis, however, he found himself proven wrong. For the third time.
"Damn it!" he yelled, the sound echoing within the small room and echoing upon itself again.
"Damn it!" It felt good to yell. Doing it again felt even better. "Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!" he continued yelling, now pounding the walls and doors, slowly working his way around the circular room. "Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, da- no, love you, Tardis," he said, coming upon the blue box. "Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!" he finished his loop around the room and simply stared lividly out the window.
"What is it with the bloody Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Era?" he asked no one in particular.
"For Christ sake, we've fixed this reality twice already, do we really have to fix it a third time? Can't you lot keep yourselves free of a tyrannical rule or whatever it is for one century?" The Doctor asked incredulously.
"I keep saying, it's not my lot!" Rose replied, shaking blond hair out of her face "I have nothing to do with these people! This is the year five billion or whatever! It's not like-"
"The year four million five hundred and twelve, eighty-two years before the Earth is scheduled for demolition."
"You're making' that up!" A black youth spoke up, glancing up from his inspection of a computer screen that had steadfastly refused to light up.
"What makes you say that, Mickey?" The Doctor asked, taking on the tone of voice of a teacher regarding a student with an interesting question during class.
"The Earth wouldn't survive another four million years, or whatever! The sun'd expand! It'd fry the whole Earth. Maybe even go supernova and-"
"Wrong kind of star for a supernova, Mickey. Besides, you lot proved to be rather useful once you got into space. Preserved the Earth before you let it blow up. Preserved it for a good, oh, what was it? Ah, yes, four million years. Don't doubt me, eh? How 'bout that? Don't doubt the Time Lord? The guy who's been around for four million years himself. How about we don't doubt 'im? Eh?"
He left the youth looking at his girlfriend with an expression of confusion upon his face as the last Time Lord wondered over to the computer terminal said youth had just been examining.
Reaching into his coat pocket he produced a small, silver instrument, pointed the end of it at the terminal and pressed a button prompting a blue light to glow at it.
"Now then… Let's see what we can't learn about what you screwed up in to get you to the point where you have an old empty satellite floating around Earth…" he said in the sort of preoccupied voice one uses when they're preoccupied.
With a loud humming noise, one louder, in fact, than they average computer terminal, the thing started up spewing a great amount of dust out of the ceiling.
"Why-"
"That's where the central processor is for this computer."
"Why-"
"Look, stop asking stupid questions and make yourselves useful! Try to open one of the doors over there! Preferably the one farthest from the window!"
Sighing the two walked to the far door and began pulling at it.
"It's not… Budging! Argh!" Rose gave an inarticulate cry of frustration as the thing steadfastly refused to give way.
"Here," Mickey said, handing her a crowbar.
"Who the hell leaves a pair of crowbars hanging around in the middle of some random room on a space station?"
"Maybe it was a storage closet," came the reply.
"Ah, here we are!"
The Doctor glanced up from the screen he'd been meddling with and beckoned Rose and Mickey to come closer.
"Look at this- last data entry entered into the station. And," he pressed a button with a flourish, which prompted a man to materialize, seemingly out of nowhere right in front of them, "It's in a holographic interpretation!"
"Captain's entry, the final, and quite true this time. The enemy has made it to the very level beneath us. I fear I am the only one left alive on board this ship. My plan, in the event that it works, will kill me along with the invaders, though I need more time- an hour at least."
Gunfire sounded on the holographic image. "It seems that I'm not the only one still alive!" The image gave a giddy laugh and ran out of the camera's field of view to continue work on whatever it was he'd been working on.
"What do you think he was working on? And what do you think that enemy was?" Mickey asked, looking slightly scared at the thoughts running through his head. "You don't think it's those Slavine things, do you?"
"Slavine was their surname, not their species. And no, I sincerely doubt that any Raxicoricofalpitorians would attempt to storm a satellite full of people who, by the sound of it, are quite well armed and capable of destroying them. One or two folks to kill, sure. A whole station full of 'em? They're far too peaceful for that. One of the reasons our friend 'Margaret' had the death sentence."
He walked over to the door Rose and Mickey had already opened a crack. "No, it was definitely something worse. It sounded like he was working on, well; I don't know what he was working on. But it was quite clearly a last-ditch effort, whatever it was."
Whipping out his ever-handy sonic screwdriver once more he pointed it at the door and opened it- to reveal a Dalek with both appendages point directly at him.
"Oh. Bugger."
"EX-TER-MINATE!" Came the already expected cry. The lights on either side of its 'head' lit up in a flash and the eyestalk swiveled to look directly at the doctor.
Nothing happened.
"You were saying?" The Doctor asked, now smiling.
"You are a TIME LORD! You will be EX-TER-MINATED!"
"You're out of power, pal," came the reply. Putting a black glove on over his right hand the doctor reached out and patted the Dalek on the head.
"EX-TER-MINATE!" came the reply once more. "The Doctor is the last of the TIME LORDS! He must be EX-TER-MINATED! EX-TER-MINATE! EX-TER-MINATE!"
"Look, you're out of power. You aren't about to go 'exterminating' me in a hurry."
"EX-"
"Look, shut up!" The Time Lord yelled, giving the Dalek a good firm kick just beneath its eyestalk. It fell over with a loud dong, which echoed upon itself and revealed a room full of Daleks like the first.
"EX-TER-MINATE! EX-TER-MINATE!" the cry echoed upon itself as it came from the vocal systems of over one hundred Daleks at once.
"That's starting to get more than a little annoying," The doctor murmured, putting the other glove on his left hand. "Right, time to shut 'em up!"
Bending down to the level of the first Dalek The Doctor lifted it into the air with a grunt and raised it above his head.
"Hey! You lot! Look what I've got! A Dalek, yes, just like you! Do you know why I haven't been exterminated yet? It's because he, just like you, is out of power. Now shut your traps and stay still like good little Daleks!" With a casual movement that made the casing he held seem to weigh less than a tenth of its actual weight he chucked the thing into the room full of Daleks where it crashed into a fellow and sent it flying backward. Literally flying backward.
"No gravity. I'm sorry, but I just love doing stuff like that when the artificial stuff is turned off!" he said with a grin to the two companions standing behind him, both of whom were gaping at the room of Daleks.
"Honestly, what is with you? You're acting like it's dangerous in there or something!"
With a wave of his hand he beckoned them forward.
"They're all deactivated, come on already!"
His companions glanced at each other, shrugged, and stepped through the doorway into a lack of gravity and a room full of underpowered Daleks.