"The Fields"
The hum of the TARDIS is hypnotic. The churning, buzzing and whizzing a constant reminder that he was never completely alone. His TARDIS, his magnificent sexy thing, taking him across time, through endless space, whenever and wherever he is needed. Once; only once, in all his years, we was able to walk with Her, speak with Her. Oh yes, he often speaks to her, and she has always responded, somehow. But for one day, she spoke with him, walked with him, so sad yet so very alive. "One of my favorite days," he thought with an odd mix of joy and melancholy.
He shook his head, as if to shake the sudden sadness from his mind. He had spent too many long years alone. Dark years, after loosing Rory and Amy. He had sadly let his hearts harden, to become as stone-like as the Angels who took them. He regretted those long years alone. Some tried, desperately, to consol him, to mend his broken hearts…
"So," he said aloud softly, knowing that She would hear him, "what awaits us today?"
The TARDIS gave a soft twitter, and for one brief moment, the Doctor thought that it felt….nervous. Brushing his unruly hair from his intense green eyes, he dismissed the feeling. "She" didn't speak to him like that anymore. In a few quick strides his lanky frame was up the stairs and at his usual post at her controls. He gazed for a moment around the control room, marveling at how it had changed in his lonely years. It grew darker, edgier. In all honesty, it was not if his choosing alone; but Hers, the TARDIS.
"Focus," he thought to himself, pulling himself back to the now. Just as he began setting course though, he stopped. An odd, cold feeling enveloped him. A pang of fear hit him, and his stomach dropped uncomfortably, causing him to shutter. At that exact moment, his psychic paper alerted him of an urgent message. Something was not right. Hands trembling slightly, he reached into his coat pocket, retrieving it. As he opened it, its message caused his knees to buckle. Hastily he sat.
It was from River. In the long lonely years that followed Manhattan, she had been the only person he never pushed entirely away. Together they had tried, off and on, to heal each others pain, to fill the hole that was left in both of them. On the paper was a note from her, but not in her confident, strong manner. It was shaky, with a jarring, halting script that the Doctor knew at once meant pain.
Help me, my Love. Please
He stood in the shadows, well hidden by the blackened rocks surrounding the fortress before him. This planet had no name. It never had, in all of time. It is the oldest of planets, one of endless night. To him it felt as if this planet WAS Time. Where it began. Where it ends. It simply existed.
In all his long years, he had never come here. One millennium and he had never set foot on its dark land. He has never before been drawn to its black barren hills. This place should have intrigued him, piqued his curiosity. But its dark shores held no bright shining hope, no glorious adventures. Just endless darkness, and an overwhelming despair. He felt it, pressing on his hearts, an almost suffocating pressure that hung in the air. A shutter went through The Doctor. This is where he was sent, where River's distress call had lead him.
Somewhere on this planet was his wife. He could feel it, deep in his bones. In this forsaken place, hurt and alone, was River Song. He could almost feel her fear, hot and bright against the cold blackness. As long as he had known her, true fear was not something she ever showed. But he knew right now she was truly scared. And frankly, he couldn't blame her.
Slowly he crept down from his hiding spot, carefully finding footing on the loose rocks. Near the border of the fortress below stood a guard, sizable rifle in hand, speaking into a radio. He was humanoid, but just barely. A pair of beefy tri-jointed legs flexed as he shifted his weight. He had 6 arms, the right foremost upper one held the radio. Another pair, the center ones, tensed in an agitated fashion. The lower set, the largest and most muscular, held the in them the large rifle. A black helmet topped his massive neck.
"Guard 70143," came a voice, airy and hollow, from the guard's radio. " Report." And odd chill ran through the Doctor. He couldn't place it, but he was certain that he had heard the voice before. He wracked his brain. Not knowing bothered him immensely….
"Nothing to report," the guard responded briskly. "Nothing detected, and no life signs." As he clicked off his radio, the Doctor gave a small, tight-lipped smile. At least his attempts to hide himself and the TARDIS had worked so far. The Doctor heard the guard mumble, shifting his weight back and forth from one massive leg to the other. As he slipped the radio info a fold of his armor, he muttered again. He was agitated, almost bored with the lack of any action. "Well then," thought the Doctor, "let' give him something to do then, shall we?" Retrieving his Sonic Screwdriver from a fold of his dark frock coat, he quickly pointed it off into the distance, setting off a series of perimeter motion detectors. The guard's chrono chirped, and in an instant, he pounded off around the edge of the building. Without waiting a beat, the Doctor slipped silently into the building.
He found the building quiet and oddly still. The walls were lined with strange looking consoles, all flashing, beeping and buzzing. "A data center," he whispered, rather disappointed. "Of course it wouldn't be that simple." This was not a holding facility as he had hoped, but where there are computers, there is information. Running his sonic over the nearest unit, he instantly hacked into the contained data. After a moment, vast amounts of information scrolled before his eyes. At once, something caught his attention. There was River's file, yes, but with it was a file on him…. Brining up River's file first he found it deadlocked. "Damn," he muttered, frowning as he tried to dig deeper into the data code. Something tingled at the edge of his mind, something wasn't right. After fighting with the file for a minute, he was able to retrieve only one bit of information. Another location, one that quite possibly might be her holding facility… Perhaps….
There it was again, that feeling…. Something was dangling just out of his quick minds reach, trying desperately to get his attention. Filing the location away into his brain, he shifted his attention then to the file on him. He cocked his head to the side, weighing whether he should open it. Curiosity got the better of him, and after a moment, he opened the file. At once the screen went blank and the room was bathed in flashing red lights. In an instant, he bolted to the door. Sonicing the locking mechanism, he stuck his head out of the door. He heard heavy footfall from many dense bodies pounding his way. Not sparing a nanosecond, he ran silently back to the shadows. As he reached his secluded hiding spot again, the first guard appeared, along with many of his friends. A dozen or more large multi-armed aliens swarmed the building. Some stood guard outside as others entered.
The Doctor waited, muscles coiled, until finally they announced an all clear. The lead guard, an impossibly large fellow in dark armor adorned with a large silver sash, removed his helmet. The Doctor knew at once who they were. Kolatin, an animalistic and brutal race, known for their violence. A chill crept down the Doctors spine. The Kolatin were usually hired as mercenaries or thugs, and had quite the reputation for what they called "The Art of Violence." The leaders face alone was enough to scare most people. A large gaping maw, full of jagged sharp teeth, with a small snake-like nose. But what chilled him most was the eyes. One black beady eye shone brightly in the darkness, while the other was hidden behind a chillingly familiar eye patch.
"Sir," the lead guard stated into his radio, flexing one of his beefy arms. "Proximity detectors registered one being. Computers indicate they were accessed …unlawfully."
"Was it him?" came an airy response. With a jolt, everything fell into place. The Doctor at once placed the voice. It must be The Silence. Any servent of the Silence wore that patch.
"Yes," announced the guard.
"Good," was the chilling response.
The Doctor, hunched behind a large rock, tensed. In his mind, everything clicked. This had been a trap. All of it. He had walked right into a trap. Question was why had he been allowed to escape? It seemed that this whole charade was meant to lure him to this timeless place. And River, his River…. He shuttered, a bubble of pain mixing with a jolt of cold fury causing his hearts to pound.
Near the door of the building below, the lead guard was placing his radio back into its holster. "Guard 70143," he stated coldly, not looking up. The guard stepped forward. "Why did you leave your post? The Doctor was here."
The Doctor slipped silently back to his TARDIS, just in time to hear a nervous, stuttering response followed by a single blast from a rifle. Just as the doors of the TARDIS swung open, the Doctor heard a sick thud. In two quick strides, the Doctor crossed the control room and began to set course. As the ship began to whiz and whirl, the Doctor composed himself. A cold tendril of anger slipped around his hearts. The Silence had River. His River. And they had dangled her location in front of him, knowing he would reach for it like a hungry child reaches for food. As the engines of the TARDIS roared to life, the Doctor paced anxiously, like a caged beast. "We are going to need some help, Old Girl. It is a trap, yes, but it is one I know I have to face." Gripping a railing, he took a deep breath, trying to calm his pounding hearts and raging emotions. He knew he would need clear mind for what was to follow. He would need help, and he knew just where to start.