For a long moment, the group was frozen.
"That's a nice blaster." The Doctor said at length. "How did you get it without violating the 'no interference' rule? Since you so clearly like to follow the rules."
The Associate smiled slightly. "I got it from the CIA, actually. They confiscated some equipment from a group trying to alter time, and I requested the blaster. Nice and compact, but still packs a wallop."
"Bit long of a recharge time though."
"Not anymore. I spent a while tinkering with it. Eventually got it down to about half a second."
The Doctor looked slightly surprised. "Impressive. I presume you use a perception filter to keep people from noticing it."
"Yep. This and my sword."
"You have a sword."
"Yes, I have a sword." A roman gladius faded into view on the Associate's left hip, then faded away again. "Bit old fashioned, but I'm fond of it. And since I don't need to use it much, I may as well as have a weapon based on looks."
"Must be inconvenient in a crowded area, having a sword no-one else can see."
"A bit. You learn to compensate. And stop trying to distract me Doctor. You're still getting in your TARDIS and getting it and you camouflaged."
"What if I don't? Are you really prepared to shoot the only other Time Lord?"
The Associate's blaster wavered for a moment, then steadied. "TARDIS, Doctor. Now."
The Doctor started to speak, but the Associate shouted over him. "DO AS YOU ARE TOLD!"
"I don't take orders."
A new voice broke in. "Is everything alright back here?"
The Associate turned. Standing at the entrance of the alley that they were in was a man in the armor of a roman centurion, albeit with a high-tech visor and a forcefield shield. In his right hand was a copy of the sword on the Associate's hip, though this one was clearly newer and better made. It was also pointed at the Associate.
"Nothing much, officer. Just a little dispute over my friend's...attire." The sword seemed to be holding the associate's attention.
"Sorry to hear of your grievance, but I need you to put your weapon on the ground, and place your hands against the wall to your left."
"Sure, sure. No...problem." The associate was still fixated on the sword as he followed the centurion's orders.
The soldier advanced on the Associate, motioning the Doctor and Clara back away from him.
"Shouldn't we doing something?"
"Like what, Clara?"
"I dunno. Help?"
"Why? He was going to shoot us."
"Well spoken sir. Why help him indeed." The Centurion picked up the Associate's blaster carefully, and placed it in his belt. "Don't worry though. He won't be bothering you again."
"Hey, just be careful with that gun. I spent a lot of work on upgrading it."
"I'm sure." The centurion reached for the Associate's right wrist. "It'll be left in the weapons locker unti-unh." The centurion collapsed.
The Associate turned and looked at his handy work, then back up at the Doctor.
"What happened to 'no interference'?"
"Too late now. Someone beat us to it."
"What do you mean?"
The Associate looked at the doctor in annoyance. "Look at his sword? Anything about it seem even a little off?"
"It's been adjusted to fire a bean weapon from the tip. That's normal in this time."
"It is, but the type of beam isn't. Take a closer look."
The Doctor stared at the Associate for a moment, then crouched down and took out the sonic screwdriver.
"A sonic screwdriver. Interesting choice of tool."
The Doctor ignored this comment, focusing on his search. After a moment, he froze. "That can't be right. It has to be a mistake."
The Associate shook his head. "It's not. I got the same reading off of my goggles. Not good, is it?"
"Sorry, what?" Clara asked. "What's not good?"
The Doctor stood up. "Clara, that sword can fire a beam that can kill any organic lifeform. There's only one other race with a weapon like this who would hand it out to simple soldier."
"And they are?"
"The Daleks." The Associate said, breaking into the conversation and forgetting to be condescending. "The most savage killers in the universe, and they're here in this time."