Obligatory Disclaimer: I do not own any of the ideas/plots/characters/species from Doctor Who.
Dreamcatcher49: I thought I was on a roll last chapter. Glad it wasn't just me. :D Mauve Guest: I think in this instance it's less an issue between two Doctors and more an issue between two universes. She's still very much figuring out all the ways this universe differs from her own. Finding out Monty Python doesn't exist was just a low blow. :D Royslady51: I'm sorry, I just can't get behind tights on a man. Unless he's also wearing a sequined gown, designer heels, and a fabulous wig, and belting out show tunes. TK: If you like Rowan Atkinson (Mr. Bean) you may like him in Blackadder, as well. If you haven't seen it, already, that is. I'll forgive for not getting Monty Python, if only because I like you. But you're on thin ice. :D Also, regardless of what drink one might want with dinner, I'm sure Rose knows how to order it in at least a dozen different languages.
The Presidential Palace was nothing short of a marvel. Rose and The Doctor had wound their way through the high shopping street and down through a more local, artisanal merchant square before coming out of the shadows thrown by the tall, close-set buildings to see the palace and its grounds revealed before them. The lawn was a pale sea-foam green through which cut a walkway paved in those glassy black bricks. Halfway to the palace, the path broadened atop a slight knoll and encircled a tree much like the ones she'd seen planted along the pedestrian thoroughfares only much, much larger. The dark trunk wound upward, its curling branches reaching outward, heavy with the trembling crimson leaves.
Beyond the massive tree, the Presidential Palace loomed large and elegant. More broad than tall, it stood all of six stories extending outward to consume the horizon. Its façade was composed of row after row of gracefully crenelated arches wrought of an indeterminate white metal. The windows glistened in a variety of colors under the sunlight not unlike the sheen of a camera lens. Around the grounds at thirty foot intervals stood sentries dressed in smart red uniforms, and round guard towers boasting the same elegant arch-work in the same white metal stood every hundred feet or so. Rose took all this in, eyes wide and an awed, trembling smile pulling at her lips as she stood arm-in-arm with The Doctor.
"The Palacio de los Soles," The Doctor said softly, watching her reaction.
"Palace of the suns," Rose smiled, looking up at him. Then, in response to his stunned look, "What? I actually learned some languages. Spanish and French, mostly. A little German."
"Not just enough to order beer?"
"Dos cervezas, por favor." She grinned, touching her tongue to her teeth.
"In German?"
"Zwei Bier bitte," she said, perfunctorily, before letting go his arm and marching ahead, "Come on, then. Lots to do." The Doctor shook his head and caught her up as they approached the guardhouse nearest the opening of the path. A man and a woman stood at-attention, hands clasped before them. The Doctor stepped ahead, pulling a familiar leather billfold out of his pocket and flipping it open.
"I'm The Doctor," he announced, "This is my associate, Rose Tyler. Responding to a cerulean alert issued by your government." The female guard stepped forward, eying him skeptically before looking at the psychic paper. She glanced between his face and the document once or twice before nodding her head and motioning to the other guard.
"Escort The Doctor and his – associate – to the presidential receiving area," she instructed. Rose's nose wrinkled a bit at the implication in the woman's voice. Everyone seemed to react similarly to her accompanying The Doctor, and while she'd understood it and shrugged it off in her youth, it rather annoyed her, now. The male guard nodded and signaled them to follow as he started up the path toward the crimson tree and the palace beyond. Walking close to The Doctor, Rose leaned in and asked.
"Why'd you need psychic paper to tell him who you already are?"
"Because I've been here before. Helped them out with a slight infestation problem. Only," he hesitated, unsure what she already knew of Time Lord physiology, "I've gotten a bit older. Not sure if they'd recognize me."
"Infestation?"
"Koalas. Someone thought they were terribly clever to genetically engineer koalas to eat the tile grass," he motioned to the lawn around them, "Keep it trimmed so they wouldn't have to cut it." At the mention of tile grass, she took a longer look and realized that the lawn was comprised of squarish 'blades' of grass as wide as her hand that layered over each other and the curves of the land, lifting and swaying briefly whenever a breeze picked up.
"Koalas?" Rose asked, turning back to him, "They had an infestation of koalas."
"Furry little blighters were everywhere. The genetic programming went a bit wrong. Enabled them to eat just about all the plant life on Barcelona, and there weren't enough large predators on the mainland to keep the population in check."
"Koalas?" Rose attempted to clarify, once more.
"The last straw was when they started invadin' the florist shops and nibbling on the endangered bromeliads," The Doctor grinned down at her.
"So, did you have to kill them all, then? Set out giant mouse traps?"
"Goodness, no," he scoffed, "Jus' moved 'em is all. Planet's full of uninhabited islands. Found a lush little spot in the south Iberian with a fair variety of predators. So, we handed out teleport guns and declared open season."
"Right. So, what's it you told them on the psychic paper, then? 'The Doctor: vanquisher of koalas and expert at intergalactic pest control'?"
"Have a look," he shrugged, pulling out the billfold once more and handing it to her.
"The Doctor – underlined, that's a nice touch – Savior of Barcelona, recipient of the Medalla del Ingenio." Rose read aloud before handing it back, "Medal of Ingenuity, really? Humble, you are."
"It's all true," he defended, "Couldn't stop them. Came runnin' after and basically chucked it at me."
"Now, that sounds more like it. People chasin' you and throwin' things." They were just passing the tree, still following behind the guard who led the way with rigid purpose, and Rose reached up to touch the brilliant red foliage, fingers spread wide. The leaves felt cool and crisp, their undersides velvety and slightly paler than the tops. The Doctor had opened his mouth in retort, ready to stage a defense of his dignity when the look on her face caught his breath, and he smiled. As they continued past the tree and she dropped her hands, The Doctor reached out his own, and she took it.
They were led to a richly appointed room boasting massive floor-to-ceiling windows that displayed the glorious city skyline of Catalonia. They were the only people there, save two men who stood guard at the double doors opposite the ones they'd entered the room from. The Doctor sat, casually sprawled back in an elegant armchair with his hands clasped behind his head and his right foot resting on the opposite knee. Rose, for her part, stood before the windows, captivated by the darkening lavender sky and the ghost of moon slowly growing more visible in the waning light. She watched ships of various shapes and sizes entering the atmosphere in a blaze of white-hot light or exiting with the astounding speed and agility necessary to escape the gravitational pull.
The Doctor watched her for some time, perhaps a little amazed that someone could just stand and look out the window for that long. So much of his life he'd spent climbing out the window and finding trouble in all the myriad places it lay. The universe was a marvelous and infinitely compelling place, no question, but he found that much of his appreciation for those wonders had gone; devoured by the war and his resultant pathological need to outrun its horrors. He suddenly felt so very old; ancient in his bones and more than a little lost. As the minutes ticked by, not a single one unmarked by his innate sense of time, he slowly began to watch the sky, to try to see what he saw. Then, without much thought, he gradually sat upright, got to his feet, and crossed the room to stand next to his companion.
"How many moons are there?" she asked, as he stepped up beside her. The outline of a second, smaller moon had just begun to show in the opposite side of the sky from the first. Her eyes were wide, all-seeing. He turned his attention to the great window, just as a freighter reached the atmosphere in a blaze of light.
"Three" he said, "But this time of year, you won't see the third until just after midnight."
"It's incredible," she breathed, and The Doctor didn't respond. Arms crossed, he stared out into the deepening dark, something deep inside secretly hoping to find even half what she seemed to. It was beautiful, he'd grant it that, but before he could dwell much further on the matter, something caught his eye; or, rather, a number of things. In an instant, scores of atmospheric entry burns flickered and jumped to life all across the sky. He stepped closer to the window, brow creased in concern, angling for a better view, but wherever The Doctor looked he saw the points of flickering light.
"What is that?" Rose asked, angling for a better view herself, "'S everywhere." The Doctor didn't answer right away, but inwardly acknowledged that she was quite correct. They were everywhere, and the most disturbing part was the precision of their spacing. The lights stretched infinitely across the sky in a constant, grid-like pattern. As the ships gained the lower atmosphere and slowed, the fires flickered and faded to reveal massive cylindrical ships, each boasting four glowing boosters and four claw-like landing struts.
"Doctor?" Rose asked, and he finally broke his attention from the incoming fleet to look at her. She looked concerned, and rightly so, but he was surprised at how little fear he saw.
"Judoon," he said, turning back to the window again, "It's a fleet of Judoon."
"And what are Judoon, exactly?"
"Police," he said, before correcting himself, "Mercenary police."
"Oh. Well, that's not so bad, is't? They must be responding to the alert."
"I'm pretty sure they are the alert." Just as he spoke, they heard the massive silver doors open, and Rose and The Doctor both turned to see a very dignified woman who appeared to be in her fifties flanked on either side by a handful of men and women. All were in business dress, but the woman out front wore a red sash across her chest. Rose darted a glance to The Doctor, watching his behavior closely.
"Madame president," he inclined his head as she approached, and Rose did the same, curtsying slightly, just in case.
"Doctor," she greeted perfunctorily, "I'm so glad you've come. My advisors and I, we have some – concerns." The Doctor shot another look out the window as the sound of rockets grew louder and a set of metal feet suddenly appeared just outside the window, followed by the tall, cylindrical body of the craft. The Doctor turned back to president, face grim.
"Think it's gone beyond 'concerning' now."
"We received this transmission two days ago," President Ibarra explained, standing over the long glass-top conference table. Rose and The Doctor head been led into the cabinet room, surrounded by the President and her cadre of advisors. President Ibarra pressed a button on the table next to the head chair, and the glass display across the room flickered to life. What Rose saw took her aback a moment. She'd never seen a rhinoceros in a space suit before.
"This is Ryko, commander of the thirty-sixth Judoon fleet. We have tracked three fugitive Pituari mercenaries to your planet, and this communication serves as notice that the fleet will arrive in approximately forty-eight hours to sequester your planet. The citizens of your world will be scanned and catalogued until the fugitives are found and their sentences carried out. Should you attempt to hinder our search or be found to be harboring the fugitives, your planet will be destroyed." Rose watched, fascinated, as the humanoid rhino spoke, it's lips moving awkwardly over the words. At the completion of the message, the screen dimmed and Rose looked at The Doctor, shocked into speechlessness. He turned to her, his face knowing.
"Doctor," the President addressed, "What is your counsel?" Just as The Doctor opened his mouth to respond, they heard the doors in receiving room open, followed by the rhythmic march of heavy, booted feet.
"President, tell your men to stand down," The Doctor turned to her, frantic, "Tell them to…" He was interrupted by one guard's voice commanding the approaching Judoon to halt, a statement that was cut short by a pained shout and telling silence. The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head as the second guard shouted in protest and a great clatter arose just beyond the door. Again, those standing in the cabinet room heard an agonized cry followed by grave quiet.
As the doors to the cabinet room swung open and the Judoon commander entered, followed by a score of his 'officers' wearing massive armored helmets, The Doctor signaled everyone to be still.
"I will speak with the designated authority of this world," Commander Ryko, or so Rose presumed, spoke.
"I am President Adriana Ibarra, democratically elected leader of the Spanish colony of Barcelona," President Ibarra stepped forward, firm and calm in her demeanor.
"President Ibarra, I hereby suspend your authority and your world's sovereignty until such time as the fugitives have been captured. The actions taken by your personal guard will be taken into account during our review of your government's involvement in this matter." Everyone in the room was silent, unmoving, as that declaration sank in. Finally, Rose leaned over to The Doctor.
"I think we can safely bump this up to mauve."
Footnote:
"My apartment is infested with koala bears. It's the cutest infestation, ever."
-Mitch Hedberg.
