Clara stood as still as she could, watching the rifle pointed directly at her chest. She may have been functionally immortal, but she had absolutely no desire to test the limits of her new lease of life. She knew Ashildr could still be killed - "immortal, barring accidents" - but she wasn't sure if the same applied to her. She needed to defuse the situation, and fast.

"Stand down, soldier," she started to say, when the soldier in front of her tensed up as if itching to pull the trigger. The weapon was clearly ballistic rather than energy-based, standard issue Earth Alliance military ordnance. Clara recognised the uniform and the gun as being very similar to that worn by the troops on Le Verrier, albeit with a few key differences in design – only to be expected for a gap of a hundred years. Not to mention, there seemed to be a distinct lack of sand people in this instance.

"Who are you, and how did you arrive on this ship?" The soldier looked like he was half caste, a mix of European and Oriental, though he was speaking mostly French, with some Chinese thrown in (she couldn't be certain of the dialect). She could understand him perfectly, of course, and so could Ashildr listening through the TARDIS console screens, thanks to the translation matrix. Which, rather usefully, also allowed her to respond in kind.

Bloody hell, she thought, what I wouldn't give for psychic paper... Clara wondered just how the Doctor always managed to pull it off. Still, she was certainly a good talker. Maybe honesty would be best, up to a certain point? "My ship, er, crashed into this one. Managed to secure the airlock but I honestly have no idea where I am. Where, um, where is everyone?"

He was still suspicious. "Name of your ship?" She would have to make something up. Would he check any kind of records? This had definitely never happened with the Doctor...

"The Danny Boy," Clara said, more confidently than she felt. Then, "It's pretty old, really. A bit battered, probably not on any kind of register..."

"What's that, behind you?" The soldier was distracted, not surprising considering there was an American diner right in front of him. A perception filter could only go so far, after all.

"That?" She took the chance to turn around. "Wow, no idea. Didn't even notice it. Wonder what it could be?" Then, a problem. What if he tried to open the door? He walked across, the gun no longer pointing at Clara, hand outstretched... "Wonder if it's locked," she said, trying to dissuade him.

The soldier ignored her, and twisted the handle to the diner entrance...

Nothing. It was firmly locked, no amount of turning allowing it to budge.

"Probably a latch or something inside. I'm sure we could open it, you know, from the inside..." It was a desperate chance, but surely Ashildr would be listening? If Clara was taken away, then Ashildr may well be her only chance of getting away. The TARDIS had locked itself, she knew, but there must be an override somewhere, to let the other girl out...

"No matter," said the soldier, his attention returning to Clara. "You, walk. I'll follow."

"Where? No idea where I am, remember?"

"I'll tell you where to turn. Just walk." With that, she had no choice but to walk, and hope that there would be some good at the end of her journey.


Inside the TARDIS, Ashildr had been listening to the entire discussion. Now, she knew there was a way out, somehow. If she could just find the right switch to unlock the door. "Come on..." she muttered to herself, looking across the control board. There had to be... there. She had it. She'd seen Clara use the same switch a few days ago, relatively speaking, when they'd transported an unconscious Doctor from the end of time to the Nevada desert. A quick flick, and there was the tell-tale sound of the doors unlocking.

She sprang out, alert for any other soldiers that may be lurking, and checked her surroundings. Ashildr had no idea where she was on the ship, or where Clara had been taken, but she guessed the bridge would be the best bet. Unfortunately, she also had no clue where the bridge would be. Unlike Clara, she had no experience of this kind of ship. Or rather, she had, but only a few billion years ago. Not anything she could remember at any rate. She locked the TARDIS behind her, picked a corridor at random, and set off alone.

A few turns later, about half an hour after leaving, Ashildr realised she was hopelessly lost. Judging solely by the state of the corridors, and the industrial feel to her surroundings, she seemed to be moving deeper into the engineering works of the ship, away from the bridge and crew quarters and more towards the engines. With that in mind, she knew that she could orient herself better if she was located at a landmark, and the engines were certainly that. She continued the way she had been going, the same general direction, and hoped this was a fairly small ship...


Clara felt a sharp prod between her shoulder blades and stumbled forward onto the bridge. There were people here, the only ones she'd seen aside from the soldier outside the TARDIS, and of course herself and Ashildr. They seemed military as well, one in scientist attire with a flak vest just visible underneath the white coat, and two other soldiers. Going by the markings on the shoulders, these were a sergeant and corporal, while the one who had directed her here was a corporal as well.

"What's this?" The sergeant turned from a display and took a brief glance at Clara. The sergeant was a woman, stony-faced, looking faintly East European, with close cropped blonde hair under a helmet. The other corporal was also male, very similar to the one who had brought Clara here, while the scientist was female, smaller than her colleagues, and with a distinctly Western appearance. They all spoke the same hybrid language that Clara had detected before, translated through the TARDIS.

Her captor replied. "Found her down in the lower maintenance tunnels, near the mess hall. Claims she crashed her ship here, but I checked the Alliance records on the way here and there's no record of it."

"Name of the ship?"

"Danny Boy," the corporal replied. The sergeant took out a datapad and scanned through the same records. Nothing came up.

"Never heard of it. Which means, our guest here isn't telling us the truth..."

Time to come clean. Clara had to own up, or there would be no way to turn this to her advantage. "Alright, you got me." Hands in the air, palms facing the troops. "I'll be honest. My ship can travel through space and time. We... I mean, I, landed here by accident. I was trying to go somewhere warm and sunny, but I got dragged to this junk heap of a ship and now I'm stuck here. Happy?"

This didn't quite get the reaction she was hoping for. The soldiers looked at each other, wondering whether to just shoot her or ask her some more questions, when the scientist spoke up. "I believe her."

She had a Canadian accent, although the language was the same as the others. She seemed relatively young, perhaps in her early thirties, with mousey brown hair. Her eyes were strange, though – green and purple together. "I believe her. She wouldn't be the first time traveller to appear on our radar."

There was a hurried, whispered conversation between the sergeant and the scientist, that Clara didn't manage to hear, before they turned to her once more. The sergeant spoke. "There's no way you could have arrived here without us knowing. Yet somehow, you got on board this ship. I don't trust you. But I'm willing to hear what our esteemed colleague has to say."

The matter seemed to be resolved, for the time being. She didn't have their trust, but Clara at least had a chance to operate now without the risk of being shot without notice. "What's going on here?" She was trying her luck, but a bit of knowledge couldn't hurt. "I recognise the style of the ship, but it looks abandoned. Are you really the only people here?"

The sergeant looked at her corporals before replying, with some hesitation. "There's been an insurgency. We're attached to a frigate in orbit around Io, we received a distress call from this ship twelve hours ago. The registered owner is an insurgent sympathiser. When we arrived, it was abandoned. Anything else is classified."

"Oh, come on. I'm already here, you may as well tell me the whole story?"

"What do you not understand about not trusting you? You're not under my command, therefore don't expect any more information."

That was it for now. "At least tell me your names?" No response. "I'm Clara. Clara Oswald."

More hesitation, however briefly. "Sergeant Zolner. That," she gestured towards the soldier who had brought Clara here, "is Corporal Ivan Qiang." (or as Clara heard it, chee-ang) "The other is Corporal Pyotr Jian." It was unmistakeable, the mixed heritage in the names, Russian and Chinese, a distinct sign of the cultural melting pot that was the Earth Alliance.

"And the scientist?" She wasn't sure if it would help, but Clara could definitely detect some animosity between the soldiers and the scientist. Maybe it was down to their different backgrounds, the different professions – shoot first, ask questions never, versus a more methodical and logical approach.

"Our technical attaché, a civilian advisor. She's an expert in artificial intelligence. Dr Madeleine Pallas."

"Call me Maddie." Perhaps there was an ally to be found here. Still, Clara was confused. This was a dangerous position to be in, with three armed soldiers, not a single one of which trusted her. The only person she could rely on was either back on the TARDIS, or heaven knew where, on a strange ship with no support. And her only friend in the room, she knew nothing about. Maddie knew about time travel, and she was an expert in artificial intelligence. Why was she here? Just what had happened on this ship?

The questions were mounting, and Clara felt alone.