Ashan Hotel

The Grand Hotel of Ashan was a marvelous piece of architectural engineering, if I do say so myself, the Doctor thought to himself. Two stair cases swept down across the front of the place, just ahead of the entry way proper, down to a reception area where three golden ornate glass chandeliers swayed down.

Clara next to him grinned, thoughts of Space Alaska instantly fleeing from her mind.

"I know."

"This is…impressive." Clara opined turning to him.

"I know." He led her down the stairs, they both ran at a clipped pace dodging through small knots of people, some turning to give them curious and affronted looks.

The Doctor and Clara crashed ahead into one of the reception desks and the clerk blinked up at them passed his round glasses. Taking in the suddenly appearing apparition.

"May I help you sir, and madam?"

"Yes, I'm the Doctor, or rather Doctor Matt Smith from the Earthen Colonial affairs office and this is my associate," The Doctor snapped his head down behind Clara for a second taking her in, "short skirt," he said popping back up.

"We will need to see some credentials sir."

"No problem, here are my credentials," The Doctor flipped his blank psychic paper up before the clerk.

He smiled visibly relaxing, "Welcome to Ashan Doctor Smith, will you be staying long?"

"Uh," The Doctor scowled his face scrunching up, "I don't know, a week, maybe two? How long do people usually stay here?"

The Clerk went back to blinking furiously. "It depends if its business or pleasure."

"Right," The Doctor snapped his fingers, "then make it…four days…that should be plenty of time."

The Clerk nodded punching his commands into his computer, "That will be three hundred standard credits."

"Uh," The Doctor looked wide eyed at Clara, "Oh I know." He whipped out his screwdriver, the Clerk gave it a curious look, but he turned it on, it whirred appreciatively.

The Clerk arched a speculative eyebrow as the console beeped at him, "your…payment stick…has been accepted. I have never seen something like this before?"

"It's all the rage back on Earth." The Doctor commented.

"Right then, your room is 512 I can send an aide over or you can go there yourself?"

"I think we can find the way." The Doctor smiled.

The two of them marched up the steps quickly approaching the elevator at the top, the one which would take them to all the floors of the hotel.

"Matt Smith?" Clara asked.

"I've been getting tired of John this, John that, John kick me up the nose. Besides in this day in age Matt is the new John, it's very in, very hip right now. Just like bow ties and fezzes. Big fashion back on Earth."

"Right." Clara deadpanned.

They finally arrived at the elevator and the door opened after a minute of the Doctor tapping his foot on the floor. The two fellow travelers stepped into the elevator, the Doctor pressed the proper floor number, and up they went. It was a painfully slow and boring ride as they went up, up up. The Doctor tapped his foot on the carpeted floor again, but with neither him nor Clara talking the footfalls made a distinct yet dull crunching sound.

Clara grunted, "So Doctor, what's up? It's not like you to go to a hotel and 'be a tourist'."

"Everyone needs a break Clara, and besides that storm is still probably raging."

"Uh huh. Is there something you aren't telling me?"

"No." He said with a flatness to his voice.

"Are you lying to me?"

"Nooo." He said rolling the flatness out and adding an edge.

"You are lying to me, aren't you?" She said grinning triumphant, which given the circumstances is a little bit odd.

He sighed, "Fine." He ran a hand through his hair. "Yes, I am lying. There is something…" he jutted his chin out… "Wrong here. It's in the air, something just feels off about the entire planet. I can't put my finger on it. So telling you I was being a tourist sounds better then, I have a gut feeling, I don't know what's wrong, oh look Jammie Dodger." He looked at her and brought up a smile.

"Well you should probably know I know you by now, and can usually figure out when you are telling the truth."

He smirked, "Yes, I do tend to forget how being in my time stream has let you know me, all of me. Everything I have been through and ever done. All my lives. It's…eerie. The walls are down between us Clara Oswald."

The right side of her face pulled down into a frown, "OK that was a little creepy."

He grinned and laughed at her. But the lift doors opened before he could continue on with his line of inquiry.

The halls were long, ornately carpeted and ornately decorated with ornate wall fixtures casting golden light along the walls. Chandeliers were spread about every ten meters. There was barely a shadow or place to hide in the entire hall. It took them only a few minutes to get to where they were going.

But they arrived, the Doctor took his key card, slid it into the slot, and then slid on through holding his hand out for Clara to join him. She slid past him, he turned, checked down both sides of the hall suspiciously, and closed the door.

The room was distinctly 'hoteley', despite the veneer of the outside, the hall, the reception, and the elevator, the room was decidedly Spartan. And dark. The Doctor flipped on the light and it wasn't much better. One bathroom, one small living room with two beds, and a small dining room like area off to the side. Desk lamps and several other elements kept the place lit, but there were shadows.

OK, so this might be a statement.

"Oh, bouncy beds." The Doctor grunted running over to it, sitting down, and then pushing down on it so he bounced. "Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy."

"So this is it then?" Clara turned around smiling, "no Daleks, no Cybermen, no creepy monsters, just 'bouncy beds', and a hotel room?"

"Problem?"

"No, it just seems so boring."

"Oh Clara," He grinned, "Bit of perspective, when the universe is your back yard, sometimes all you have is a back yard. Sometimes the Daleks and the Cybermen become common place. As common place as you going on a nine to five job and teaching kids and giving them guidance. I have been doing this for a long time Clara, a very long time…and you should know."

"Doesn't change how I feel." She smiled.

His smile flickered for a second and he looked down, "No, I suppose it wouldn't." He muttered.

Hotel Reception

The receptionist who admitted Doctor Smith and the woman who accompanied him continued through his work for the day. He had to admit four more groups of people, and had to file his hourly reports and check and clean his register, but there was something that was bothering him.

Something he knew he should do, his patriotic duty. After all maybe if I can help out the Minister and do my Patriotic Duty then perhaps I can get out this hell hole of a job.

But the question is what?

He knew he had something but he had no idea what that something was. He had no idea why the man's position gave him so much thinking and such pause.

But finally, over his lunch break, he gave into the urge.

Prime Minister's Office

Montebene sat behind his desk leafing through the reports and the pads laid before him, those his other ministers gave him to read through. He preferred this from the day to day meetings with the peons and peasants. Though he had a lot of those, but he rarely met with his full cabinet, only every week, or every month when he was really in a mood. Instead he had them send him reports. In some ways it was just as boring and frustrating as it was before but at least he could do it at his own pace, and sometimes he could pretend to read them.

But in other words, things were going well, except for the damn resistance he frowned, his thoughts threatening to go down a very dark path.

A light rapping on the door brought him out of it.

His head arched up and he turned to look at the door, his aide was standing there, "Mr. Hamilton?" He asked.

"Sir, we've gotten a report from a hotel receptionist in the city. He has something that I think you are going to want to hear."

"Found a resistance cell hiding in one of his rooms did he?"

"No, but he says he admitted a Doctor Smith from the Earth Colonial Affairs."

Montebene's smirk changed into a tight frown, his face, if it was white, would have lost all color. He got up from his chair and he went over to the window and glanced out it. "This changes things."

"Why would it? We are apparently a free and independent government now from the mother world, surely they should not care what our affairs are."

"Yes, normally this is true. But right now we knew the situation is delicate. I was hoping to deal with the situation with the resistance before they arrived. Because they had to come. Eventually. And even though we are not officially apart of their government anymore you know how they view wayward colonies, that they have an obligation to all the sons of Earth to keep them on the straight and narrow. And they wouldn't understand, or we can't risk they won't understand."

"Then what do we do?" Hamilton said.

Montebene craned his neck and rubbed his chin. "We deal with the problem. We try and convince them that there is nothing going on here, but if they discover the truth we kill them. Blame it on the resistance, and Earth should leave us alone… deal with our affairs in peace."

"And just how do we go about doing this?" Hamilton asked.

"We capture them."