Threads and Balance

by Jedi Holmes

On a mission to investigate the possibility of a Cyberman army on a small planet in Ghost Nebula, Jedi Masters Naomi and Mycroft, along with Jedi Knights Sherlock and Natasha, encounter old rivals set on tearing them down. Everything hangs in the balance as they navigate thinly woven threads, and with twists at every turn... the game is on.

4. Silver Threads

Chapter 4: Silver Threads

The air was brisk as Natasha stepped out onto the snow-covered surface of Atoa, momentarily tempting her to remove her cloak if only for a little while. The cold, like the snow, was a reminder of Russalband, her home planet, and one of the few things she still remembered clearly and fondly. Nowhere else seemed to be cold the way Russalband was cold, but places like Atoa came close during winter. She breathed in deep and let her eyes stray to the petite form of her padawan, now trailing diligently behind Mycroft and Naomi.

Earlier in the cruiser, just before they'd set out for the day, Natasha had pulled her aside to issue a series of warnings. She was a smart girl, sharp and perceptive but too kind and too trusting for her own good. Natasha couldn't help the concern that on occasion got the better of her and had her lecturing her padawan on safety and keeping her guard up. She issued the same lecture then, letting Molly go only when she assented solemnly with her head and smiled. "I'll be careful, Master. I promise."

Natasha had hummed softly, lips twitching into a faint smile before she'd let her join John at the window. The journey had been relatively uneventful, otherwise, aside from her reunion with Sherlock. They'd discussed battle plans like old times, and she found herself smiling honestly for what felt like the first time in a long time. Stoic was the word Clint used to describe her, and she couldn't blame him. Often she could go for long periods of time without showing a shred of emotion on her face. Sleep had been difficult, though, and she'd spent most of her time staring up at the ceiling in silent contemplation. Too many things to think about and not nearly enough time.

Thoughts returning to the present, Natasha turned towards John and Sherlock, her two mission companions, and drew the hood of her cloak over her head. "We need to find out where they're building their Cybermen and infiltrate the facility," she said as she came closer. "I think I have an idea where it might be, based on the building arrangement in our diagram of the city, very few places make sense for this sort of operation." Pause. "Are you two ready?"

"You bet, Princess. You lead, we'll follow." Sherlock replied, the old nickname slipping out. Seven years ago, they'd been on an undercover mission, one of many. But that one had Natasha as a royal guest and he, her faithful servant. It had been more fun than he cared to admit, especially considering all the teasing that he'd subjected her too. He smiled faintly at the memory as he pulled he hood up over his curly hair. John trailed behind him, doing the same motion with his brown cloak. Sherlock could nearly feel John's deep blue eyes on him, but he quickly dismissed it.

The weather didn't bother him, it was early winter here, and the fresh snow wasn't very thick. It might bother John, who's homeworld had been warm. But the sixteen year old would adapt, he always did. John was skilled, medically and on the field. At least when they weren't undercover. He was more than a little bit obvious, at least in Sherlock's mind. They'd have to work on that. Maybe when he and Natasha started working full time together again.

Natasha smiled slowly, vividly recalling the mission he was making reference to. She'd endured endless teasing throughout the entire thing until halfway through she'd threatened to find a nickname for him if he didn't let up. The threat hadn't worked. If anything, he'd been more insistent and eventually she'd grown to like the nickname quite a bit, though she'd made it a point not to let it show. It was only a few years after, when he'd been working undercover as a prince himself that she'd gotten her chance. Charming, she'd called him, making reference to a famous tale they'd heard from the locals. "It'll be on the outskirts of the city, if I'm right," she told him out loud. "A bit of a walk, unless we find a quicker way to get around... Charming." She glanced at him and widened her smile. "Of course, we could always ask around first. Make sure. People always gossip, no matter the culture. Something's bound to come up."

"Insipid gossip, but let's ask around." Sherlock said, eyes sweeping the few people on the streets. "I'll turn on my 'Charming' personality. And John has the tell-me-face." He paused. "I'll steal or acquire a transport if we need one...depending how far it is."

John smiled at the back and forth, trying to keep the little smirk to himself. He didn't speak, and he probably wouldn't unless spoken too. Nothing new, they had far more experience. But he usually had a retort for his Master's ideas. "Maybe not steal, Sherlock? Wouldn't want to get thrown in prison again."

Natasha glanced at John first, smiling briefly before turning her eyes Sherlock's way. "You never can keep yourself out of trouble, can you?" She lowered the hood of her cloak and shook out her loose hair. "Give me a few minutes, I'll ask around and let you know. See if you can gauge the transport situation in the meantime, and John..." She flashed a smile at the young padawan as she walked past him. "Keep an eye on him, will you?"

She winked at Sherlock and walked on ahead, turning up her own charm in hopes of acquiring information. Sherlock was right, it was insipid gossip most of the time, but an operation like the one they suspected always caused a bit of a commotion. She spoke to a few locals, filtering whatever useless information they weaved into what they were telling her. Eventually, having gleaned something about mines outside the city and a new, large corporation taking up residence not too far away, she went about finding Sherlock and John once again.

Sherlock and John, on the other hand, were rooting around trying to find a speeder or other transport. If they were going to acquire a Cyberman to study, they'd need a way to transport it. Republic Credits were their best bet for this, especially if Sherlock wanted to avoid the hassle of prison. They didn't have time to get held up.

John stood attentively by Sherlock's side as he negotiated a price for a modest landspeeder. He was paying attention, but he caught sight of the redhead and gave a little wave as Sherlock shook on the deal and handed the woman a bundle of bills. Sherlock grabbed the key and turned as Natasha walked up to them. "You got it." Not a question, he knew success when he saw it.

Natasha nodded once as she came nearer. "It's an hour's walk, so it'll be just a short trip on the speeder," she confirmed, reaching out to snatch the keys out of Sherlock's hand. "Mind if I drive? I'll give you the particulars on the way."

"If you must." A teasing smile took the place of a mock sour look as Sherlock let her take the key. He gestured to John and the blond padawan took the cue and slipped into the backseat, tucking his cloak around him. Sherlock took the passenger seat. "Details?"

Natasha brought the speeder to life with a smile. "According to the locals the mining operation on the outskirts of the city started years ago. Just through the mountains up north, you can see them from here. It started out small," she explained. "Ivan set it up when he moved here all those years ago and it wasn't very successful. Whatever he was pulling, there wasn't much need for it here, or, what's more likely, he wasn't entirely sure what to do with it." She paused to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear and look his way. "Then came Jim, whoever he is. Might be Moriarty, I suppose, but in any case, after him, they expanded, bought more land, hired a lot of people, swore them to secrecy and started producing..." She trailed off thoughtfully. "As it turns out, whatever Ivan was mining was actually valuable. He just didn't realize it until Jim came along."

"Jim is Moriarty, that's what he went by when we were young." Sherlock said, letting a controlled breath, trying to put aside the years of rivalry. Rivalry that had sparked a showdown and numerous encounters over the years. "Whatever they are mining, it's likely dangerous. A weapon…or something to make weapons. Perhaps that's where our 'Cybermen' have come from." He made a humming noise as he thought that one through. "We've got to shut it down. Whatever it is…it can't be good."

"No it can't," Natasha agreed, her lips setting into a grim line as she continued to think it over. "The manufacturing plant is what we're after, I need a closer look at one of the Cybermen. Preferably one that's disassembled and not running after us to kill us or worse." She paused. "We'll need to infiltrate the actual building for that, and if at all possible, not get caught along the way." She glanced at Sherlock. "You know Moriarty, how paranoid is he about security?"

"Extremely." Sherlock said. "And he'll take every precaution, however extravagant that would be." His eyes strayed to the snow covered landscape. "He's likely got everyone there either bribed or threatened. We aren't likely to be able to match that bribe or threat…considering. But I have faith we, considering our skills, will be able to get in and out without being noticed." He paused again. "Moriarty won't be here…he doesn't like to get his hands dirty. He'll be away, watching and scheming from behind the scenes…he's actually probably in the city somewhere." Another pause. "What about Petrovich? Where would he be?"

"He likes to be as involved as possible with any project he takes on and he's never been big on trust, so he's likely here making sure things are running smoothly," Natasha replied immediately, having weighed and measured the man for years. "You know, with the figurative whip in his hand." When the plant came into view through an opening within the mountains, Natasha swerved to bring them parallel with the range so they wouldn't be seen. "We know this place will have at least one weakness, like most buildings. The ventilation system," she continued. "Our way out is the problem, if we're bringing one of those things with us." She paused. "Maybe I can do whatever assessment I need to do here, I'll just need a little time."

"Time we can give you." Sherlock said, glancing back at John. "Plenty of workers means we can move around if it looks like we're supposed to be there. Bypass the initial security checks and then walk about unhindered." His eyes flitted over the structure, looking for the weakness. "If all goes according to plan, they won't even know where were there."

"They won't," Natasha said confidently, slowing the speeder to a stop a safe distance away and hopping out of the vehicle. She removed her cloak and draped it over her seat before pulling her windblown hair into the braid she preferred for this sort of activity. "While you two are out and about, see if you can get anything from the workers." She secured her braid and flashed Sherlock a small smile. "Not like you need to ask anything, you'll get all you need from one look. Might even get bored with them halfway through," she teased.

"Likely." Sherlock smirked as he stepped out of speeder. "But it's work, important work…hopefully that's enough to redeem it. Boredom can be found anywhere in the galaxy, apparently."

"I'll make sure he doesn't say anything stupid." John said with a smile flashed back at Natasha as he too exited the speeder..

"I'm not going to say anything stupid." Sherlock protested, ruffling John's hair roughly, but affectionately. "Lead the way, Princess."

Natasha chuckled at the interaction, covertly winking at John before she set off in the direction of the manufacturing plant. Sherlock was right, security was tight throughout but a large building meant more than a few weak points at key places because of the ventilation system she'd mentioned before. There were two possible points of access, on the lowest level and on the roof. For them, it was simply easier to move from the ground up. The lowest level wasn't likely to be used for any sort of manufacturing, so while there probably would be security, it was bound to be weaker.

A short distance away, but behind cover, Natasha stopped to survey the area. A second later, she was moving quickly and silently, timing the patrolling guards while keeping an eye out for cameras or sensors that might catch their movement. She didn't need to look back to know they'd follow, the routine was familiar and easy to pick up despite the time they'd spent apart. It was only when they'd entered the basement that she spoke again, and it was only in a whisper. "No cameras down here, but be careful anyways," she said quietly. "The main shaft should have an opening down here, leading to different rooms. We'll find the one they use to monitor the building, bypass security systems and work from there." She looked back at them. "Thoughts?"

"Several." Sherlock commented, coming up beside her and holding out a hand for John to stay right behind them. "You lead the way, John in the middle, I'll take the back. Get in the lowest level and work our way up. Storage for work uniforms, as well as other things, will be down there." He pointed down a barely visible path through the rocks towards the compound and then to a single shaft sticking out of the ground. "There's the possibility that there are a level or two below what we think, but I'm nearly certain all the mining is happening horizontally into the mountain."

"Agreed," Natasha said quietly, squinting in the dim light of the basement until she finally caught sight of the path he'd pointed out and the shaft visible just a little beyond. She moved toward it, hand on her double-bladed lightsaber and eyes peeled just in case. "Alright, so lowest level first for uniforms," she said as she couched in front of the shaft opening once they'd reached it, "and after we get a look at what's going on upstairs we'll try and get a look at what their mining here." She looked up at him. "D'you think whatever's down in those levels below deserves a visit from us too?"

"Depends how much time we have and what we end up seeing initially." Sherlock said, taking his curved black and silver lightsaber hilt from his belt as he let the other two go ahead of him.

"We could split up." John suggested, following Natasha closely. "Find the Cyberman, then Sherlock and I can go separate directions to search a wider area. Might be easier if we're just one person wandering around instead of two."

Sherlock raised a brow, nearly impressed, but also a bit cautious about the splitting up. "Let's just get inside, then we can finalize the plan then."

"It's not a bad idea, Charming," Natasha told Sherlock as she crawled into the ventilation shaft and climbed her way up. It wasn't long before she'd reached the lowest floor and she peered through the vent before carefully prying it open so they could enter. "You're a bright one, John."

"Thank you Master Natasha." John said respectfully, glancing back at Sherlock with a mischievous eye after he'd followed Natasha out of the shaft and into the room. "Someone has to say it."

Sherlock made a face as he unfolded his lanky body from the small passage, rolling his shoulders back now that he wasn't stuck in a too small hole. Of all the test and trials being a Jedi brought….he hated small spaces the most. "Don't be smart, John." He droned after catching the look again, he ruffled his hair once and narrowed his eyes at Natasha.

Natasha met Sherlock's narrowed stare with a little smile. "Don't look at me like that, you were thinking it, weren't you? Or is it me calling you Charming that's got you narrowing your eyes?" Her smile widened, and she nudged him playfully before turning to search for the uniforms. "Either way, John's right. Someone has to say it, it's not easy getting a compliment out of you."

Sherlock smirked as she turned away, catching a grin from John. The smirk faded and he rolled his eyes instead. "I compliment people, right?…sometimes…rarely. Doesn't matter." He crinkled his nose and waved a dismissive hand. "I think it's you two ganging up on me that's got me…whatever, let's just do our job."

"Come on, Sherlock, we can have a bit of fun on your behalf in the meantime." John said, following Natasha. "Wonder if they'd let Molly and I switch Masters for a month. I think I like you better." Another boyish grin.

Natasha chuckled, poking around the room until she found two uniforms that would somewhat fit the boys. "Bright and sweet," she commented. "How'd you ever wind up with a grumpy Master like Sherlock?" She teased, throwing one of the uniforms Sherlock's way with a wink and a fond smile. The second uniform she threw at John and moved on to find one for herself. "A cruel fate for any padawan, I'm sure."

"You know…maybe I'll just go wait by the speeder and leave you two to giggle together." Sherlock droned after catching the uniform with his face. He huffed a bit and put his lightsaber down to shimmy it over his Jedi robes. "It's like you don't even need me."

"Don't despair, Master." John replied with mock respect, doing the same with his uniform as he grinned up at his master. "We wouldn't get very far without you. We'd likely die from boredom."

"Not if I beat you to it." Sherlock said aloofly, zipping up the onesie and putting his hands on his hips in an attempt to look dignified. Basically, he didn't.

"It is a cruel fate." John commented with a smirk at Sherlock's appearance. "To be stuck with that through training."

Natasha gave Sherlock a once over, turning away to conceal a smile as she pulled on her own jumpsuit over her robes. She zipped them up and looked down at herself before walking over. "What's the matter, Sherlock?" She teased once she was near, reaching out to tickle his ribs. "Can't handle a little humor at your expense?" She darted away from him before he could retaliate. "Alright, come on, you two. We have work to do here. Let's go find me a toy to play with."

After trying to swat her hands away from his ribs, Sherlock let out a huff and moved to follow, shooing John ahead of him. "I think you both need to find a new hobby, Princess. Like actually working."

"You like it." John pointed out, stepping ahead with light feet and a grin. "He does like it." He said again, speaking to Natasha. "He just likes to pretend he doesn't. I don't know why. I don't like not knowing." He did a little Sherlock impersonation, earning a heavy sigh from his master.

Natasha laughed at John's impression, glancing at Sherlock over her shoulder as she moved to open the door leading out into the compound itself. "That impression's spot on, just so you know," she told him, turning to peer out into the hallway to make sure they could slip out unseen. She motioned for them to follow and slipped outside as if she belonged. "I know he likes it, though," she assured John in a whisper she knew Sherlock could hear. "Loves it, actually, don't you Charming? Where do you think we'll find what we're looking for, by the way?"

"Right, then a left, that should lead us to the stairs." Sherlock said, happily moving on. "Assembly lines, or however they are putting them together, should be on ground level. It's more efficient. And this floor isn't big enough. It's just storage. Just look at the electric wiring." He pointed vaguely. "As for upstairs…one can only guess the layout. We'll find uncompleted suits, definitely. But I have a feeling that the completed ones are being stored somewhere out of the way. So it depends what you want."

"I need to know what they're made of, what sort of weapons they've incorporated into the design, and any weak points they might have," Natasha answered diligently, all business again as they took the necessary turns before starting their climb up the stairs. "So we're looking for a completed but deactivated unit, if we can find it. After that, you and John can decide if you do want to go your separate ways and cover as much ground as you can."

"Acceptable." Sherlock said, shooing John faster up the stairs. He'd, illogically, hoped that John would be taller by now, but the sixteen year old still stood seven inches shorter than he did. He quickly dismissed that thought and focused on the task at hand, which included whispering a reminder about how to act if they were encountered. John's acting skills were just barely above his observational skills, which were frankly horrible. He'd have to work on them more later.

The ascent up the stairs was quick, and he quickly catalogued how many stories these specific stairs would be able to take them to. Just in case. As he'd said, the ground floor was the assembly place, working from inside the mountain out, the more complicated the machine, the closer it got to the entrance. Curious. His eyes flitted to Natasha, and then to the other uniformed beings that were doing their work. He motioned for John to pick up a box. "Better look busy if we don't want any questions. Keep your head down."

Natasha moved to pick up a box as well, eyes already searching the floor and memorizing the layout. According to Sherlock, finished units would be stored someplace out of the way, and she knew from experience he'd be right, so she quickly gauged the likeliest places to covertly check as she moved amongst the workers. Then she felt it. A ripple in the Force, perhaps, or maybe just a sixth sense because her connection to the Force was not something to marvel at and never had been. She closed her eyes for only a second and exhaled sharply. "Was that just me or did you feel that?"

"Small. Felt it...off of you." Sherlock said immediately, clear blue eyes darting over the area, even as he extended his Force sense out. He'd block himself from others though. Two rogue Force users on the planet, they couldn't advertise there location. "Identify?" He asked quickly and quietly. He caught John giving her a concerned look as well. A ripple in the Force meant something, and it was not to be skipped over, not right now. "Familiar?"

"Too familiar," Natasha replied, opening her eyes and briefly meeting his. "Molly's in danger, but I don't know how or from what. Not specifically." It made her uneasy, set her on edge, but they had a job to do and she couldn't just abandon it midway. Lives were at stake, and it was their job to protect them. All of them. "She's..." She swallowed. "She's with Naomi, and Mycroft." She darted her eyes between Sherlock and John before moving away to continue what they were doing. "We'll be quick here just in case."

Sherlock made a bit of a face as he followed, thinking through that news. He took a breath to focus his thoughts, attempting to reach into the Force and figure out what had happened. The ripple he'd felt was Natasha's response not Molly's distress, that was simple enough to figure out. The three distant pulses he felt now were a little disheartening…something was wrong all the way around. He had a comm link...only to be used in an emergency, he'd wait for that. If something had happened, and it was important for them to know about it, they'd be told.

John's chest had tightened with that news, and he gripped onto the box he was carrying. "But…but what if…what if they hurt her? We need to do something!"

"We have a job to finish, Padawan." Sherlock said, more gently than he might have otherwise. "This is important, stay attentive."

Natasha caught John's words, but purposefully put them aside in favor of getting the job done. If they'd hurt Molly, she would find them, and she would kill them painful and bloody without hesitation unless someone was brave enough to stand in her way. It was a simple truth, and she acknowledged it mindful of the implications. Molly was her padawan, and she was sweet, and loving, and bright, and gentle, and accepting in ways she'd seldom if ever encountered anywhere else. Her opposite in nearly every way, and she loved her for it. She couldn't lose her.

But right now, she had a job to do, and because she had a job to do, she put it all aside. She poked through several doors, and took the occasional trip down a corridor until she found what she was looking for. A massive room, halfway filled with humanoid metal men. "The Cybermen," she said under her breath.

John swore in his native language, both at the situation with Molly and the fact that there were way too many Cybermen to count just right there. He set down the box he'd been carrying and peeked in beside Natasha. "Are…" He pursed his lips and let out a breath. "Are those…sleeping."

"Likely." Sherlock came up right behind them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders as he looked over top. "Conserving energy or just in standby until needed." He paused. "The question is…if we take one…will it wake up?"

"That depends," Natasha replied, green eyes looking them all over before she stepped further into the room and out of Sherlock's grasp. "Operating system is bound to be inside the head, if I can get in there I can shut it down or..." She came close to one particular unit and walked halfway around before crouching down beside it. "If we can't get inside, we take away its ability to come after us. Either way, I've got something to go on right now, I just need..." She rose to her feet and tapped its metal head. "This."

"Taking a head home, we can do that." Sherlock said with a nod, glancing up and around the room for security cameras…which he didn't see any sign of. She'd already checked that, but it nearly worried him. Maybe in a room of sleeping death machines, they didn't think they needed security cameras. He made a little humming noise and then pushed John into the room towards where Natasha was. He grabbed his lightsaber and approached from the side, activating the dark blue light to sever the head from the body. Hopefully quick enough to avoid it waking up. He frowned when he touched the metal with his saber and nothing happened. No burn mark, no slit metal. "Well that's new. Sort of. I think I know what they're mining now."

John frowned as well, crossing his arms and tapping his booted foot. "Lightsaber resistant metal?"

"Phrik." Sherlock supplied quickly. "Rare…apparently. But it looks like they found a vein here. Employ the people to mine the metal and assemble the machines. Then wipe out the people. Neat." He nearly smiled at the cleverness of it, stepping back with his still activated saber and grinning wider."

"Sherlock." John said, both cross and annoyed at his master's response. "Focus. We need the head."

Natasha barely blinked, listening to his words but working through alternatives at the same time. She was unraveling too quickly, and she needed to be out of that place by the time she broke down completely. As it was, she was distracted, able to concentrate on one thing at a time and right then it was getting the head. "They assembled these, so we should be able to disconnect it from it's body and sever the wiring likely linking it to the head. That is, if it doesn't wake up with the attempt." She pressed her fingertips to her head and attempted to focus. "It's too risky," she said quietly. "But I got a good look, and I can't... I can't focus like this."

The comm link buzzed and Sherlock grabbed it and stepped away to have the conversation away from hearing distance.

John pursed his lips again and walked up to Natasha. He put his hand on her back, in a hopefully comforting way, it just seemed like the right thing to do. "I think I can do it, I've got my medkit supplies in my robe, it has a scissors that can sever nearly anything. I'll do it. Just make sure it doesn't eat me." He tried a smiled and then unzipped his uniform to grab the tool in question.

Natasha tensed at the contact but agreed with a nod, already lifting herself up on tiptoe to get a better look at the neck. "It locks here, here, here and... here," she pointed out for John's benefit. She lowered herself back to the ground, bowed her head and settled her hands on her hips. "Disconnect it there first and try to lift it. I'll catch it if it tries to bite."

John had spent several years training with the Healers already, it was becoming second nature to him, working with the body. Now, translating that to taking off the head of a metal man...different story, but he was sure he could do it. And he was already cutting into the wires and connecting sections when Sherlock walked back over.

"That was Mycroft." Sherlock said, putting the comm link away. "Naomi's been injured, seriously. They were attacked by Moriarty." He paused, pursing his lips and letting out a breath as he fixed his eyes on Natasha. "Moriarty has Molly. We've been instructed to return as soon as possible."

John drew in a sharp breath, but didn't stop what he was doing, working a furious pace now. "I'm almost done."

Natasha held Sherlock's stare for a long moment, telling him without words just how far off the rails she'd be going if any serious harm came to her padawan. There were a few seconds of tense hesitation but eventually she turned on the spot and brushed past him, walking towards the door and stopping just in front of it. Her thoughts were scattered between past and present, and she struggled to rein them in with the one thing she knew was true. Molly wasn't dead, she would've felt it if she was. The thought was cold comfort at best, because more than once she'd wished for death when she was younger, and back then she'd only been forced to deal with Ivan. The isolation, the beatings, the pain. They were bad, but it was only one man. What did it mean that Molly was alive, and not only at Ivan's mercy but Moriarty's as well? It was enough to make her sick, and she removed a hand from her hip to seal it over her mouth.

Sherlock drew in a deep breath as she slipped by him, his repressed sentimental side coming up out of nowhere. They'd get her back, with or without Naomi. Because he was nearly confident that Natasha would bring this entire planet to it's knees to get Molly back. And he would too. He tried to catch John's eyes, but the padawan was working furiously, trying to get what they came for to make the entire trip worth it. Minutes…seconds…he wasn't sure how much they counted in the grand scheme of things. How long did Naomi have? How long did Molly have? What if they both died? His fists clenched and he turned to stand in front of Natasha. Not really sure what he was doing, he put his arms around her and held her close.

Natasha let out a shaky breath against Sherlock's chest, and reached out to grasp him with both hands, fingers curling into the fabric of his jumper as she pulled him closer. "I can't lose her, Sherlock," she said quietly, drawing in deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down. That she feared her own padawan would even glimpse the hell Natasha herself had been put through when she was younger certainly wasn't helping. "I can't. I can't." She sniffled and her grip on him tightened. "If they hurt her, I'll kill them both, and everyone else who stands in my way."

"And I'll be right there with you. Because I've got your back." Sherlock promised quietly, holding her as tightly as she was holding him. "We'll get her back, I'll do whatever it takes."

"Done!" John said, probably louder than he should have, his eyes opening wide even as he pulled the metal head off of the body. Deep blue eyes darted around the room until he was sure the machines wouldn't wake up. And he turned back to run at the two masters. "Come on, we need to go." His friend was in danger, but at least he was thinking straight. If they got captured here, there the likelihood that Naomi would die would go up. And he didn't want to think about what would happen to Molly.

"Thank you," Natasha said quietly, inhaling deeply and tightening her grip on him just a little more. Any tighter and she wouldn't be able to breath, but it didn't matter. He was the one thing anchoring her to reality and keeping her sane, in spite of what he knew she'd do and what he'd do with her if it meant getting Molly back. Pressing her lips against his chest, she inhaled deeply one more time just as John announced he was finished. Her eyes opened, and she allowed herself one more second of comfort before she loosened her grip on him and let him go. "You're driving back," she said, turning towards John and holding out her hand. "I'll take that."

John handed over the head gladly, glad to be rid of the thing. He looked over Sherlock and Natasha quickly, as if trying to piece together what had just happened, but he let it go.

Sherlock removed his arms from around her, all business now that the moment was gone. Considering the stakes, they needed to get out of here, as soon as possible. He threw a glance at the Cybermen over his shoulder and promptly took the lead to take them out of the room.

The odds were incredibly stacked against them. One of them was down, another captured, and they had a large lightsaber and blaster proof army just waiting for the order to attack a city full of civilians. But this is where Sherlock would shine, the game was on.