Chapter One
Friday 6th April 2288
The Doctor and Clara shuffled forward in the queue. They had been waiting over an hour in an overheated lobby filled with all sorts of different species, with one thing in common. They were here, on this particular Museum Asteroid to see the Starship Wembley in all its dilapidated glory. However, no-one had been allowed in since yesterday morning. There appeared to be some sort of hold up.
"Can't we just use the Tardis and break in, like last time?" asked Clara.
"No, not this time," replied the Doctor, visibly shuddering. "I'm still having nightmares about last time! Robot guard dogs, with a taste for Time Lord flesh… Never going back there."
He finished reminiscing then turned back to Clara.
"You have a point though. What's the hold up?" Clara shrugged. He smile knowingly, took her hand and led her through the throng of aliens to the front desk. Behind the desk sat a humanoid figure, perfectly human-looking in every way but for the three extra eyes set in her rather large forehead. Before the Doctor could ask she spoke.
"Sorry sir, no admission today by order of Sir Henry Windsor, Fourteenth Duke of Norfolk and owner of this wonderful collection." She said it in a monotone and Clara noticed she was reading the passage off a script in front of her. The Doctor cleared his throat and the alien look up; apparently surprised he was still there. He flashed her a smile before flicking open his psychic paper.
"Hi, I'm from, um, Interpol, codename the Doctor and this here is my partner, umm, Taggart," he said, flashing Clara a look of apology. At the same time the alien behind the front desk stood up, herself smiling and gestured to a door set in the far wall.
"Go through there, Doctor, and tell the guard I sent you to Mr Windsor. He's expecting you." The Doctor nodded his thanks and led Clara over to the door.
Sir Henry Windsor, Fourteenth Duke of Norfolk and direct descendent of Elizabeth the second, Queen of England, sat slouched in a swivel chair that belonged in the 21st century. In fact, the entire room was furnished as such, the walls covered in posters of long since forgotten bands and TV shows. The room would've been silent but for the soft music playing from a speaker set in his desk, the soft tones of One Direction filling the air. A knock at the door made Sir Henry jump, but he regained his composure the best he could and stood up.
"Come in," he called. The door opened and in walked his personal body guard.
"Interpol to see you sir. The Doctor, and his companion, Sergeant Taggart," he said. Sir Henry nodded, frowning. From behind the guard swept the Doctor and Clara, the former with a ridiculous grin plastered on his face.
"Hello! Oh my word, what a wonderful room. Swivel chairs, teapots and jammy dodgers, oh I'm in heaven!"
"I'm glad you approve, Doctor. All antiques of course. This is the stuff not shown in the museum. What of the music though? Surely you must have an opinion on One Direction?" replied the Duke.
"Hmm, I wouldn't go there if I were you," answered the Doctor. The Duke glared at him and spoke coldly.
"This song is a classic."
"Well, each to his own I suppose." The pair stared at each other for a moment before snapping out of it.
"To the business at hand, Doctor. I'm glad you're here. Did your seniors explain anything to you?" questioned Sir Henry.
"No," replied the Doctor. "We were in a hurry to get here. What's happened?"
"You're not going to believe me. The Starship Wembley is missing."
