1. A Normal Girl, One Heck of a Man
Elizabeth Jane Robinson. 'Daughter' of Jonathan and Lucy Robinson. Both dead. 'Sister' to Jonathan Junior Robinson - nicknamed Nate or Nathan. Seventeen years old. Short soft hair hanging at the length of her chin. Fringe blue and growing halfway down her cheek. Lightly tanned skin that wasn't white or brown. Living in Unit 28. Eating a bowl of gruel for breakfast and dinner, drinking soup at lunch.
Elizabeth Jane Robinson. Female human. Three sets of tunics and sandals and tea-towel head scarfs. Living in a cell in the female quarters. Sharing with nine other people in a small room. Living in a field that was actually a desert of dried dirt and dust. Living in a life of slavery, tied to the Gelth and their infested pawns.
"We are looking for Bradley Holmes!" a Gelth pawn shouted from the flat roof of a cell building. "He is to be given to the Head Gelth of Unit 28."
Elizabeth Jane Robinson. A slave among many, waiting to be given to the Head Gelth.
"No one has seen him?" the pawn said, smirking evilly. Suddenly, there was a scream and a little girl was thrown off the roof of another unit, squealing all the way as she fell. "Well, that was a shame." The pawn looked at the dead girl, splat on the floor, like he had lost a favourite dog that was of some use to him but he didn't particularly care. "Now, where was I...? Oh yes, doesn't anyone know where Bradley Holmes is?"
Elizabeth Jane Robinson. She cared about the people she lived around. She was calm but smart and prepared. She had been bred in a lab to be a warrior but a protector. From the DNA of a wonderful man, she had been born. She had no idea who, but she was prepared to live with that.
"Here I am," Bradley sighed sadly as he stumbled forward. Although the life of a slave to the Head Gelth was better than being a miner, it meant you left behind your friends and hard work to be replaced by silence and pain.
Elizabeth Jane Robinson. Grown in an egg created from the DNA of an equally or more so wonderful woman. Forced into slavery despite her bloodline. Confused and lost, looking for a beacon of hope.
"Put him in the truck," the lead pawn hissed at the two standing posted at the bottom of the building. The pair strode forward and took a shoulder each before dragging Bradley over to an army truck parked on the dusty road leading to the barb-wire gates. "We will be back in one month to collect another."
For the first time ever, his eyes lingered on Liz and she felt a sting in her heart. If a pawn stared at you for longer than he did others, it meant you would be next. It meant the whip was slicing its way through the curtain towards you. It meant that you would be replacing blistered hands with scarred backs in a while.
As the truck trundled away, the people turned and headed back to work. That was all they had now: a routine. Get up after five hours of sleep only, have a bowl of gruel, work, have some soup, work, have a bowl of gruel, go back to your cell for five hours of rest. Muscles strained against their slim tunics whether they were men or women, adults or children. Even babies had muscle from clinging to their parents as the people worked.
Liz followed a group of muscle bound boys to a large hole in the ground near Cell 34. Wearing a tunic, it was hard to climb down the ladder but she managed and hoisted a sack of tools onto her back. The feeling of heavy tools digging sharply into her back didn't hurt that much after so long a time working.
Suddenly, an image flashed before her eyes. It was an image of when the Gelth army of infested people came marching into the county and began shooting people. Only, it wasn't what had happened when she was in London when she was only four. It looked more like...Africa. At least that was how she had imagined it. However, as the image bounced around her brain she began to feel sick and she cried out, falling to her knees as if they had snapped in two. Her heart felt like it was being torn from her chest as she screamed, throwing back her head in pain. Suddenly, her eyes began to glow a bright, blinding gold wispy sort of light that flew like flags from her eyes.
"Help me..." she whispered hoarsely and then a spasm shook her body agonizingly. "HELP ME!"
The TARDIS whirled through space effortlessly, relaxed like it was being carried by waves on a beach. The tube glowed red, purple, dark blue and green hues and looked like wisps of non-smelling smoke weaving together with twisted rings every so often and a light that they never seemed to reach. The colours were smudged together slightly like someone had put their finger on it and simply twitched slightly, rubbing the shades together.
Suddenly, the TARDIS shook sharply, thrown near the tube sides and quivering in surprise. She swiftly righted herself but the action that had happened only moments before shocked her. It had felt...personal. Like back when they would fly near a TARDIS and there would be a pull, telling them that their sister was nearby. Only, this was more powerful. Like distress mixed with love.
And the pull was so powerful that her curiosity got the better of her as she swerved, leaping out of the tube.
Inside, the Doctor was thrown back, yelling in shock as he tried to get a good grip on the railing. Clara yelped in fear as she was flung over the railing running along the outside of the grating, landing on the area below where the engines were.
"Doctor!" Clara yelled. "What's going on?"
"We're stopping somewhere!" the Doctor shouted back.
"What!"
It wasn't a question, just a gasp of surprise, but the Doctor answered anyway. "The TARDIS is leaving the path and going somewhere else!"
"But I thought we were going to twenty million and eighty two!" Clara protested.
"Yeah well, we're not," the Doctor grunted, swinging from one rail to the door in one movement and slamming his head on the lock. "Ow!"
"Doctor!" Clara screamed as sparks were thrown up from the control panel, the bolts blowing and smashing whilst the rails fell from the grating.
Groaning, the Doctor grabbed onto one of the remaining intact railings and flung himself to the control panel, fumbling around before pulling down the lever, looking over his shoulder to smirk at Clara.
"Germonimo."
The TARDIS made a forwards flip, her doors flinging open for some reason as she screeched in pain. She was feeling the pain of the distress signal, the pain of her family. Her heart longed to feel the presence of another TARDIS as she shot across the stars, unfamiliar but at the same time recognizable.
"We're on...Earth!" the Doctor cried as he stared from the control panel at the stars. "Only...they're different."
"What's wrong with the TARDIS!" Clara demanded loudly of the Doctor as she was thrown against the roof of the TARDIS and then rolled round onto the floor again. "And what's up with the gravity!"
"I don't know, do I?" the Doctor snapped. "But we are landing!"
The TARDIS panted. It was unlike other times when she had wheezed and groaned because the Doctor landed her incorrectly, but rather like straining against the pull of a powerful rope dragging her into a lake. She let out a piercing scream that sounded like incredibly loud sirens as she doubled over before landing upside down. Inside, the two travelers lay on the curved ceiling, groaning as they shifted around, hurting in areas that would soon blossom bruises.
Tiredly, the Doctor pushed himself to his feet. He ran his hand through his dark brown hair, forcing the wild strings back into place before searching his pockets. After a while, his lazy mood became desperate as he patted the pockets of his yellow-brown blazer, searching fearfully.
"The sonic screwdriver," he said to Clara as if she had asked. "It's gone!"
Clara rolled her eyes and pointed at one of his trouser pockets. "Did you check in there?"
The Doctor opened and closed his mouth, rolling his eyes as he mouthed what she said angrily before thrusting his hands into them, ruffling around like his pockets never ended.
Maybe they don't, Clara thought as she eyed him suspiciously.
"Are you looking for this?"
The voice was unfamiliar and the pair looked up to see, standing on the top of the TARDIS doorway, was a young girl, cringing in agony but holding the sonic in her hand. She had short dark brown hair not much unlike the Doctor's with a fringe which was dyed blue and reached halfway down her cheek. Her skin was pale, her eyes were piercing and a shade that was either bright blue or dull green. She wore a white tunic that swayed around her knees and strained against uncommon muscles. Weary lines stained her face and her nails were chipped whilst her hands were red with blisters. On her feet were a pair of worn old sandals and her movements were cautious as if the floor would cave in beneath her.
"Now, don't do anything," the Doctor held up a warning finger but her eyes - I'll call them blue for now, thought the Doctor - held no evidence that she planned to do anything with it. In fact, they glittered with an intelligence that seemed to prove that she knew what to do with it.
"Why would I do anything?" she cocked her head to the side in confusion only to snap it back up when the TARDIS whispered something. It sounded only like old machinery groaning after it exploded like she had but to the girl it was different. In a single moment, the stranger had shifted from cautious and stiff to relaxed and calm. "Why would I harm something of the same breed as my mother?"
"Your mother?" the Doctor frowned.
But the cloud that had passed over the girl's eyes had vanished and now she blinked in confusion. "I don't have a mother."
The Doctor shook his head. Clara cleared her throat.
"Hate to break the party but am I the only one who hasn't forgotten that we are sitting on the roof?" Clara said, staring at the stranger with a hint of jealousy.
"Technically, we are not sitting on the roof," the girl corrected. "And I think you'll find it is only the ceiling, as the TARDIS has many other rooms."
"How do you know what she's called?" the Doctor demanded, almost shivering. There was something fishy about this. Like fish fingers and custard: weird but delicious.
"I..." the girl was confident one moment and then uncertain the next. "I don't know. I just...know."
Squinting at her, the Doctor almost felt like his eyes would drop back into his brain from all the frowning and he'd end up with strange lines on his forehead. For a moment, he just gawked at her, and then he clapped his hands and was back to waving them around when he spoke.
"Do you mind if I ask you what year this is?" the Doctor asked, smothering his anxiety with confidence and calmness that was artificial. The girl stared at him like he had said something different and she didn't believe him but she answered anyway.
"Twenty fifteen," she said coolly. "London, England. Residents: Humans and Gelth pawns. Location: Unit 28, Mine shaft 63."
"Mine shaft," the Doctor stared in shock. "Gelth pawns."
"Twenty fifteen!" Clara cried.
"Yes," the girl blinked at them. "When were you last here, Doctor?"
"Twenty fourteen," Clara inserted. She was still confused. Only, what? One year ago? There had been greenery and lampposts and humans. How could all this happened in one year when they had been there for what sounded like ages?
"And how did you know my name?" added the Doctor. Once again, the girl blinked dumbly but this time she didn't bother telling him she didn't know because he already understood. "What's your name?"
"I am Elizabeth," she told him. "But people call me Liz. And you had better put on some tunics and sandals before the pawns come and make you one of them."
"What do you mean pawns?" Clara demanded. The Doctor smirked at her show of 'understanding'. He knew she knew nothing of the Gelth and their evil plans when he was venturing with Rose but she still tried to show her intelligence.
"When the Gelth came, all life died," Liz explained, eyes twinkling with excitement, the same excitement the Doctor felt when replaying a story no one knew. However, her sparkle was bigger as she had obviously not met anyone who didn't know of it. "I was only four - they've been here for thirteen years. They infested all the prime ministers and kings and queens and...presiants?"
"Presidents," the Doctor offered.
"That's it," Liz beamed. "They took over every country and began getting everyone together in tight places and chose their pawns. With them, they broke the humans and made us into slaves. We now work in mine shafts until every month on the first day three pawns come to each unit and collect a human who is to be taken to the Head Gelth of the unit."
"Do you have any siblings? Parents?" the Doctor inquired.
"Adopted," Liz shrugged. "Never any record of my parents but my adoptive brother is called Nate. He's two years older than me. My adoptive parents were called Lucy and Jonathan. Nate was named after his dad. I was...grown in a lab."
The look of shame that crossed her face made the Doctor's heart leap. She had been born and raised in a lab but when she spoke of it she looked like she had done something naughty. For a moment, he stared, and then his jaw popped open as she lifted her head and smiled brightly.
"Anyway, about flipping this place," she gestured to the long vein-like pipes that kept the ceiling from caving in. The two companions caught hold of one each and waited patiently as the stranger closed her eyes. Wisps of gold flew from her eyes like flags as Liz was suspended in the air, floating there as the TARDIS was drawn from the earth and flipped over. As she turned, the Doctor and Clara cried out, their heads spinning as they felt their shoulders twist. But a moment later it felt like two giant hands had taken them, one each, and lowered them onto the ground.
"There we go," Liz smiled cheerfully. She scurried over to the control panel and the Doctor knew he couldn't stop her from staring at everything although he wanted to. A human with magic powers could be very dangerous. And yet, as he watched, she touched each broken bulb or smashed screen and, like skin knitting together, the machinery fixed until everything looked like new.
"Mind doing a paint job whilst you're at it?" the Doctor asked jokingly.
He was surprised when she flung back her head and the golden light flowed from her mouth, enveloping the TARDIS and fixing every chip, every smudge, every everything until the machine looked brand new. A second later, the girl blinked as if to clear her head and stared at them.
"What?" she frowned at their gawping faces.
"How did you do that?" the Doctor asked, spinning around and smiling at the work like he had gotten a new toy.
"Do what?" Liz frowned.
A twisted look took over his face as the Doctor turned to her, shock clear on his features. "You don't remember," he breathed.
"Remember what?" Liz squinted at him. "Are you joking?"
"Okay, this is weird," Clara whispered as she stepped up to the Doctor's side.
The pair of them just stared at Liz like she had just blow up the earth. And for all Liz knew, she might have. Her memory was blank, like two minutes had been ripped from her existence and there was nothing she could do about it.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Liz waved her hands at them, ushering them off. "Go on! Tunics and sandals! Get to it!"
The two travelers sighed and strode off like kids sent to tidy their rooms. And together, the pair of them prepared to see the new earth they had barely even left.
His name - or rather, the name he had adopted - was Captain Jack Harkness. He had once been a Time Agent. Now a conman and part time hero. He had once cared for a girl named Rose, now he was a little confused to be honest.
He tapped the codes on his watch hopefully. He had heard of a slave time on earth and he knew that the Doctor would be there. He wanted to see the Doctor again, to say something to him. Maybe the man had seen something extraordinary or had met some other new companion.
"A hot companion, I hope," Cap'n Jack smirked.
Finally, he pressed the enter button which should have been no bigger than two pinheads placed together and fused into one before being pressed as a button on the watch. He had to admit, the watch was rather big but no one would suspect a watch being a time traveling device. And with a mind that calculated things fairly quickly, he could tap in a few numbers and-
"Who are you?" a metallic voice demanded. "Name yourself."
"Oh no," Captain Jack sighed, smirking. "Great. Daleks."
"Shut up!" a more human voice snapped. Jack spun around to see a sneering man with short, spiky red hair and sharp green eyes. He looked over Jack suspiciously before his mouth broke into a wide, arrogant smile. "Finally! A good strong male slave!"
"Excuse me?" Jack chuckled, expecting it to be a joke. "I'm not a slave."
"Oh, are you a Gelth possession?" the man nodded but he didn't look quite as thrilled.
"What?" Jack groaned, putting a hand to his head. "I am just a man, can't you understand that?"
A smirk began to creep onto the strange man's features as he strode forward, grabbing hold of Jack's upper arms. He shook Jack slightly as if to clear the boy's thoughts before leaning in so that their noses were centimeters apart.
"Well, you must have come far, sir. I am Milo McKenzie. Well, the human was called that," the man chuckled darkly. "And you must be very different to have come when you know nothing of the human slavery," the man said, encircling Jack like he was sizing up his prey. "Do you work magic?"
"Uh..." Jack hesitated. Should I say yes just to say yes or should I...
"Of course, if you own magic I will have a house set up for you in any unit you wish and some slaves of your own..." the man glanced at Jack in a sneaky knowing look.
"Yes I do!" Jack cried without hesitation and then he waved a finger in the man's face. "But no Gelths in me!"
"No, no of course not," the man frowned. "If you house magic how can we enter?"
"Oh yeah..." Jack smiled guiltily.
"Wow, this is a nice place," the Doctor looked around as they trudged along the mine shaft.
"Yeah, if you don't mind cold and creepy," Clara muttered as she rubbed her arms, staring at the ancient flaming torches bolted to the walls.
"Oops!" Liz called back. Clara was surprised by how muscular the girl was but then again, being forced into slavery in the mines, what would you expect? "Watch out, there's a few crushed bones right here. Follow the right wall, okay?"
"Bones!" Clara cried. "Like...chicken bones?"
"What?" Liz snorted. "What decade do you live in? Human bones."
Clara felt her jaw fall open painfully as she felt the Doctor enclose her hand with his carefully, gently pulling her over to the right until he could feel the wall. Each wall was several feet apart and the walls were hard to follow because when a dip went too far in you could mistake it for the wall dropping out rather than just an erosion. Then they would knock their sides and or heads as they pressed inwards because of their mistakes.
"Did you really think everyone adapted quickly?" Liz inquired as she twisted round a sharp corner on the right. Unlike the others, her sight was better and it was almost like she had a greenish grey light glowing from the back of her eyes to help her see. The torches suddenly flared brighter and more numerously as they advanced upon the brain chiseling sounds of pickaxes striking stone, metal and iron striking rock, the scent of cinders and ashes blasting at them. "I was lucky I was only four. At that age you just work in the gym, some people got worked to death."
In the new light of the increasing number of torches, Clara saw the Doctor wincing as if he had just been punched. She couldn't help but blink and nod knowingly at him. The smell of burnt flesh and decaying meat struck them like the blow from a bomb, making the pair take a deep breath of shock.
"Doctor, can we go?" Clara mumbled, pulling her coat over her nose.
"Err...I guess... I mean, we could come back in two minutes. I think we'll go to the boss or whatever and-" the Doctor began.
"What!" Liz cried. "You can't do that to her!"
"Huh?" Clara frowned. "I wanna get out."
"No, mother of mine!" Liz screeched. "She's exhausted."
"I thought you didn't have a mother!" Clara snapped. Her fuse was burning out just now and she had to admit most of it was because of the effect Elizabeth Robinson had over the Doctor - the man she fancied incredibly.
"I don't," Liz replied patiently.
"Then what did you mean?" Clara snarled. If she'd been a dog or a cat her fur would be bristling.
Liz froze, eyes wide with surprise and confusion. "I...don't know."
"Well, this isn't very interesting," the Doctor sighed.
The truck rolled to a stop and Jack stuck his head out through the window, frowning at the dusty landscape. Ahead there were many, many wide dug holes with lids pushed back and numbers painted on them. Some long cement buildings were sprinkled along the landscape with other numbers painted on the metal, reinforced doors. It looked despicably disgusting but Jack had seen much worse much more often.
Suddenly, the truck jerked forward once more as the barb-wire gates swung open slowly allowing access. The driver wove in and out between the holes, the vehicle jerking every time it hit a pothole or a stray stone. As they zoomed forward, Jack scanned the area, taking note of the holes and strange buildings, logging questions in his mind for later. His rubbed his forehead, grimacing at the sight of grubby men and women in tunics, hair cropped short and muscles pressing against their clothes. Meanwhile, he and the others - who were mostly Gelth 'possessions' and, apparently, Daleks - looked like weaklings next to the workers.
However, despite the idea that the land led on forever, not long later they exited through a second barb-wire fence and headed towards a large patch of fresh green grass and a large, magnificent mansion. It was far from anywhere else, about five miles from the unit they'd just passed through, and it almost looked homely except for the fact that the scenery behind it was just slopes and hills of dust and red dirt and, about ten miles on, a small encampment not unlike the one before.
"What was that prison camp called back there?" Jack inquired of the driver as he leaned back in, pressing a hand over his mouth as the sand kicked up from the front wheels attacked his lungs and eyes.
"Unit 28, sir," the driver answered.
"What do you mean 'sir'," Jack requested as he coughed, hurriedly rolling up the window.
"You are to be head of Unit 28, sir, and therefore your slaves must address you as sir, sir."
"I'm to be head of that place?" Jack spat, wincing at the idea of owning such a horrid place.
"It is the nicest unit there is, sir," the driver answered as calmly as he could although the impatience was starting to set in. "Except for the head, head man, sir. He's the one who confers with the Evil Ones, sir."
"The what?" Jack snorted although he was pretty sure who the 'Evil Ones' were.
"No one knows what they are, sir, only that they are evil, sir."
"Oh, okay," Jack forced his questions back only to release one after all. "How long until we reach the estate?"
"About ten minutes, sir."
"Okay, fine," Jack swooped his hands back behind his head and leaned into the chair, shutting his eyes and locking out the troubles of a 'Head'.
It didn't take long after all and a few minutes later the driver called back that they were there. Jack's eyes snapped open to the sound of crunching stones beneath the wheels and leaned out to see that, out of nowhere, a fine white and grey stone covered road was underneath them. It led up to a turnabout with a lush circular patch of green grass in the middle, a large fountain positioned on it. Around the road was green lawn and a narrow brick path led up to the black door of the building. Standing along the path on either sides were the staff - slaves as everyone called them. The door was set into a white brick house with tall arched windows and potted plants whilst the roof was made up of very dark grey slate.
A male slave hurried forward and opened the door for Jack. The captain had learnt that he had to let others do his work although it was hard to battle the instinct not to do everything himself. He stepped out and stared at the people. They were all muscle-bound like the slaves at the unit only they wore smart clothes. The females were dressed in slim-cloth dark blue dresses and aprons tied around their waists. The sleeves reached down to their wrists but were crinkled, giving away months or years of being folded up. Their hair was done up and then a cloth was tied over it to keep off the grease. Meanwhile, the men all had short hair and wore black suits with black shoes nicely polished and white bow-ties. However, the younger boys wore tattered light brown blazers and trousers, their hair was more ruffled although showing traces of hours of combing and they kept their heads down. Unlike them, the older people looked up at the blue sky.
"Hello, I am Captain Jack Harkness, bearer of magic," Jack bowed to them and when he straightened up he could see glints of horror entering there eyes. A smirk crossed his face, an idea popping into his head. "Ah, so people do look at me."
"Sir-" one of the maids began.
"Be silent whilst in the presence of your master!" the driver hissed threateningly. Jack guessed being a driver was a higher status than maid or a manservant, also known as slaves.
Jack let the sound of the driver's voice slide and began to stride between them, giving each of them critical glances, trying to look stern, before stepping up in front of the door and turning on the spot, a scowl on his face although his eyes were glittering.
"Are you all loyal to me?" he demanded, his voice harsh.
"Yes sir," the slaves answered strongly.
Determined, Jack stepped up to a maid and stared into her eyes. "Are you loyal to me, young maid?"
She looked into his eyes fearfully, audibly swallowed and nodded. "Yes sir, I am loyal to you, sir."
Eyes glinting, he spun on the spot and stared into a manservant's eyes. "Are you loyal to me boy?"
The manservant quivered under his new master's gaze but answered without a hint of lying. "Yes sir, I am also loyal to you, sir."
Nodding thoughtfully, Jack strode along and turned to a second maid, his penetrating gaze making her visibly tremble. He repeated the question and received the same answer although a few words were changed. Never the less, she had submitted and he shifted along before kneeling at eye level in front of one of the boys. His hands were stained black, hinting at shoe polish and coal from fires.
"Are you loyal to me, little man?" Jack whispered, his eyebrows furrowing.
"Yes sir," the boy nodded, puffing out his chest in pride. "I'll follow ya to the end of the world, sir."
"Great!" Jack leaped up, a cheerful look shooting onto his face as he headed for the first man in line, shaking his hand and smiling, inquiring after his name: James Baker. "Nice to meet you James Baker. Are you a cook by any chance?"
"I...know a little bit, sir," the man smiled nervously.
"Great!" Jack grinned. He moved on, shaking everyone's hand and learning their names before he turned to the door. "Now, let's go inside."
He strode forward, flinging open the door to his new and improved life. A chandelier hung from the white roof, the walls were decorated with extravagant wallpaper. A mirror hung to the right of the door and below it was a shelf with a plateful of letters. The floor was coated with a velvet red carpet and at the end of the corridor was a fancy spiraling staircase. The smell of wood polish and cleaner drifted up his nose, choking him slightly but not harsh enough to make him unable to breathe. Two old women in aprons and caps were standing at either side of the stairs, one with a file and one with a tray, a semi-sphere lid over it to keep the heat in.
"Hello sir," they both bowed with practice. Their eyes were glittering with both happiness and uncertainty.
"Hello everybody!" Jack yelled, throwing out his arms. "I am Captain Jack!"
I might not end up writing the end but...please bare with me and be patient. Hope you liked my first chapter, it's the longest I've ever made! Anyway, sorry that my other stories are so short and please comment; read and review.