;_; sums my mood up right now.
The Doctor sat grumpily at Mhror's desk, listening to the Captain translating the data on the info-sticks. Sarine was in the archives hunting down more relevant info-sticks, while Nadrin, inexplicably, was sat cross-legged beneath the table, plotting the data on a graph.
Mhror set the final stick down on the table, and looked towards the returning Sarine, who should her head to indicate the supply of information was exhausted.
"Why can't you store this all on a computer?" Nadrin's voice floated up from beneath the desk.
The Doctor snorted. "They do, but I can't understand their communication methods - it's a series of coloured lights." Nadrin crawled out and stood up, depositing the completed graph on the table.
The Doctor shook his head in disappointment. "There's not enough data - why don't you keep all your data here?"
Mhror turned maroon - showing his disappointment also. "The data was deemed unnecessary. It has been taken to the City for storage."
"You'll have to take us there then," the Doctor demanded and slammed his fist against the graph.
Nadrin jumped at the sudden bang, but regained her composure quickly. "Why are we doing this, what's actually happening?"
The Doctor sighed. "I don't know, Nadrin. But both positive and negative rift spikes should be roughly equal - there's a huge difference here. Something's happening to the Rift, but I don't know what." He accentuated the last three words by crashing his fist against the table in frustration.
"Transport to the City has been prepared." Nadrin turned to Sarine, who nodded and pointed towards a door on the opposite side of the room.
"There is one issue, Doctor," Mhror said, restraining Nadrin from moving as he spoke. "The Erythraean public are unaware of extraerythraean life - you must not be seen. We have two options - one, you remain underground in the vehicle or we use a visual perception confribulator."
The Doctor wrinkled his nose. "You've not tried keeping Nadrin inside a room - it's painful. We'll have to use the visual perception... thing. What is confribulator supposed to mean?"
Sarine turned yellow in embarrassment. "I made it up - it is alien technology that arrived through the rift - it causes the viewer to ignore you in general - if the viewer does notice you, it sees whatever the technology decrees you see - we have set it to show Preidoxhylorians."
Nadrin coughed in surprise. "Pridoxy- what now?"
"Preidoxhylorians," Sarine continued, unfazed. "A species native to this planet with minor intelligence. They need steady routine and to be constantly busy - else they view themselves as pointless, and go mad. They work as servants to the Erythraean race."
The Doctor frowned. "You're not trying to justify slavery, are you?"
Sarine shook her head slowly. "We reward them well with nutrition. It's a struggle for us also – we cannot allow them to be idle, for their own sakes. When they lose their sentience they become very aggressive and can kill or injure both themselves and Erythraeans." The Doctor nodded slowly, unconvinced.
Mhror released Nadrin, and she ran over to the door Sarine had indicated a while back. "Come on Doctor, we've got to get moving sometime." He smiled at her eagerness and followed the Erythraeans through the doorway.
The short passageway beyond led out into the open, where a squat, angular vehicle stood. The doors slid upwards, and the four climbed up over the caterpillar tracks to enter the machine.
The Doctor grunted as he sat down. "Could at least have fixed a ladder to this thing," he muttered to Nadrin.
Mhror turned to face him from the operator's seat. "I apologise for our inefficiency. Credit is low, and our vehicles receive harsh treatment." He turned back to the front, and started the engine, which roared into life. The vehicle shook terribly, so much so that Nadrin thought her eyes would rattle out of her sockets. The machine lurched forwards, setting up a cloud of dust so thick that it completely obscured the view from the already restricted windows - unsurprisingly, Mhror put the vehicle on autopilot. She tutted in disappointment and curled up in the chair to try and get some sleep.
By the time Nadrin awoke, they were clear of the lunar plain. She yawned and stretched her tiny frame, sitting upright and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She looked ahead to see a city rising majestically from the hard green ground. All the buildings were off 10 storeys or less, and constructed of the same green material. It looked like a giant, intricate sandcastle had been dropped there by a giant child. She giggled at the thought, and turned to where the Doctor was sat. She screamed shrilly at the wrinkled brown figure beside her. The mouth of the beast opened in a yawn, revealing a row of sharp teeth. Short, fluffy hair covered the top of its head, up to the high forehead over the deep-set eye sockets. It was wearing what seemed to be some sort of plastic boiler suit. It sat up also, and stretched.
"Do you have to scream like that Nadrin? Does my ears a nasty," it said grumpily.
Nadrin choked down another scream. "Doctor? What the hell's happened to you?"
"Nothing," he replied. "It just looks like it has." He held up his left wrist, where a heavy-looking black device was strapped. She looked down at her own wrist to see a similar looking box strapped to her own wrist – luckily, it was not as heavy as it looked.
"Is that the visual perceptive thingybob?" she asked, looking down at herself, expecting to see the ugly form of a Preidoxhylorian - yet she only saw her skirt and jumper. "Do I look like that too?"
The Doctor - or rather the Preidoxhylorian - nodded. "Well, you do to me. A marked improvement, if I may say so." She growled and dug her uncut nails into his free hand.
The Doctor yelped in pain. "Why don't you cut those bloody things?!"
Nadrin sniffed at him disdainfully. "They're very good for hurting you with."
He sighed mournfully at her, grimacing slightly as she removed her nails from his flesh. "Typical, I show you only the most beautiful parts of the universe, in return you plot against me."
She shoved him playfully. "Shut up you." Grinning, she pulled out her camera and took a quick photo of the Doctor's Preidoxhylorian form. "Humph, that's rubbish."
The Doctor frowned. "What is, is it out of memory?"
Nadrin shook her head. "No, it looks like you. Not like a pridoxthing."
"Charming," the Doctor muttered as he took the camera from her. "Well, the camera doesn't have a brain, so the VPC has no effect on it."
"But why does my picture look like you normally do when you clearly look like some ugly alien thing?"
"...I just told you that."
"But... what? I don't get it."
"Don't worry about it, it's not like-" The Doctor's reply was cut off suddenly as they pitched forwards in their seats when the vehicle stopped violently. Mhror lifted his head from where he'd been sleeping and turned to them.
"This is our destination. More data is available here. I shall ask two Preidoxhylorians to direct you to the archives. They will translate the data also. We are required at a meeting of the Scientific Assessment League." The Doctor nodded curtly and climbed out of the machine, catching Nadrin as she stumbled out. The two Preidoxhylorians arrived as expected. They bowed to the travellers in unison.
"We thank you for allowing us to be of assistance while Captain Mhror and Sarine are indisposed," the one on the left said, its voice a surprisingly high warble.
Nadrin smiled at them. "Hello, I'm Nadrin, what are your names?"
The two weird looking aliens blinked in surprise and wrinkled what little there was of their noses. "This information is surely irrelevant?"
Nadrin frowned. "Of course not... How else are we supposed to address you?"
The one on the right replied this time. "Names are not necessary - we respond to orders."
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "You must have names though?"
The alien hesitated, but its companion nodded. "I am Gi, this is Bu. We shall now proceed to the archives." The turned and walked stiffly towards through a door made of what seemed to be wood - yet was the same shade of green as the walls. The Preidoxhylorians led the way into a brightly lit foyer - unsurprising, the high ceiling was festooned with a multitude of lights, all of which emanated a purple luminescence. Nadrin took a quick photograph before running after the Doctor with his strange alien guides.
There. Well done for reading it. Now, perhaps you'd be polite, and review for me?
