"Just... out of curiosity," said Buffy, as she followed the Doctor out of their tent. "Do you only ever come up with plans as a way of hinting to me that you'd like me to make up the actual plan?"

"What do you mean?" the Doctor asked, twirling around to face her. "It's a brilliant plan!"

"It's very you," Buffy said.

"As I said," said the Doctor, adjusting his bow tie. "Brilliant, ingenious, and all-around incredible."

"By which I mean that it makes no sense, is doomed to failure, and — even if it did work — would leave us in the middle of super-duper danger with nothing to do next," Buffy pointed out.

"There is something to do next!" the Doctor insisted. "What I do next is think up another plan."

Buffy crossed her arms. "My plans actually work, you know."

"You've got a better idea?" the Doctor asked.

"Yeah," said Buffy. "Or at least, I've got the start of one. I'm starting with scrapping the part of your plan where you die."

"I did not put that in there!" the Doctor insisted.

"In your 'brilliant' plan, you go onboard the Dalek ship," said Buffy. "In the middle of deep space. With no TARDIS. And no one to rescue you."

"To get Julie," the Doctor agreed.

"While, in the meantime," Buffy continued, "I stay behind. On Earth. Working with the Earth military to get Adam's army to use Earth's space ships to chase after you."

The Doctor bounced on his feet, hands clasped behind his back. "Exactly! Lure Adam off Earth and out to Lasky's Nebula! Human race is saved, Earth is saved, all our problems go away."

"You're entrusting your life," Buffy clarified, "to the Daleks and a bunch of military commandos from Earth. From the United States."

Like the military goons at the Initiative. Like the people that had tortured him. He was trusting them.

(He'd be better off trusting the Daleks.)

The Doctor's happy countenance dropped a hair. "Ah. Right. That... whole... thing with the Initiative... just happened for you." He draped an arm over Buffy's shoulder, and leaned into her. "This isn't going to be a problem, is it?" he whispered.

"No," Buffy lied. Or not lied, exactly, because she wasn't planning to follow the Doctor's plan, anyways. She squirmed out of his half-embrace. "What's a problem is that the Daleks are going to exterminate you. And even if they don't — there's no way Adam's just going to drop everything he's doing here so he can chase after you. That's insane!"

The Doctor winked at her.

"What are the Daleks doing way out in Lasky's Nebula, anyways?" Buffy demanded.

"Fighting IPSA, I presume," said the Doctor. He noticed the confusion on her face, and clarified, "Main fighting force of the Galactic Federation, at this time."

"IPSA," Buffy repeated. Another group of military commandoes. Great. "What's that stand for?"

"No idea," said the Doctor. "Probably 'Inter-Planetary' something. Inter-Planetary... Starfleet... Association or Alliance or Aardvark or something of that sort."

"Yeah, I'm guessing IPSA doesn't stand for Inter-Planetary Starfleet Aardvark," said Buffy. "Unless there's something about aardvarks I don't know."

"Not enough acronyms contain the word 'aardvark'," the Doctor reflected. "Someone should do something about that."

"So if this IPSA is basically the major fighting power," Buffy cut in, "then why have I seen no evidence of any reinforcements or help or anything from them? Because, I don't know if you noticed, but... Earth's getting its butt kicked, over here."

"Exactly my concern," said the Doctor, as he spun around and rushed into another tent. "General Gratewell, here, has informed me that IPSA's received Earth's distress signal, and sent nothing but good wishes."

"They've what?" Buffy cried, following him.

The moment Buffy entered, a tall man in an Earth Military Uniform sporting a mustache spun around and eyed her suspiciously.

"Who's this?" the man asked.

"My associate," said the Doctor. "Got a bit delayed in the Balhoonian spaceport — you know how the Balhoonians are. Her name's..."

"Buffy," Buffy said, just as the Doctor said, "Elizabeth."

The man gave Buffy a look that said he really didn't have time for these kinds of games.

"My name's Buffy Anne Summers," Buffy explained. She pointed at the Doctor. "He calls me Elizabeth." She pointed back at the man. "You're not allowed to."

The Doctor fished out his psychic paper, and handed it over to the man, who examined it, carefully. Buffy caught a glimpse of its text. Grand Commander Buffy Anne Summers, overseer for the Galactic Federation General Safety Administration.

The man gave a grunt of amusement, as he handed the psychic paper back to the Doctor. "Should have guessed. A Korjensky kid. They're always a little odd." He then turned to Buffy, and saluted. "General Mark Gratewell of the 39th Earth Military Platoon." He hesitated, then gave the sigh of a man who'd been fighting a losing battle for far too long. "One of the last platoons left."

Buffy glanced over at the Doctor for hints about what a Korjensky kid might be, but the Doctor wasn't paying attention to their conversation anymore. He was fiddling with his sonic screwdriver in that way he always did when he was about to say something clever.

"General Gratewell," the Doctor said. "You mentioned, earlier, that IPSA sent you a message of good will. I'd like to hear that message."

A momentary doubt flickered across Gratewell's face, but he seemed to decide that he had nothing to lose, and hid the doubt under a mask of army rigidness. He gave the Doctor a curt nod, and gestured for the two of them to follow him.

They were brought over to a large group of machinery, which lit up the air with holograms and graphics and lights that glowed with colors Buffy didn't even know existed. The General manipulated a few things on the display, and then IPSA's message came through.

"People of Earth," came the human-sounding voice. "We regret to inform you that we must refuse your request for reinforcements, as our own battle is far greater and more important." A pause. "Best wishes to you all."

Then the message cut out.

"Okay, I'm not liking IPSA so much," said Buffy. "Aardvark or no."

The Doctor just seemed curious, tapping his sonic screwdriver against his lips. "What frequency did that come in on?"

"737-alpha-29," said Gratewell.

The Doctor's face morphed into sudden surprise. "What, really?"

"Of course," said Gratewell. "It did come from Lasky's Nebula, after all."

The Doctor twirled his sonic screwdriver in his hands, thinking a moment. Then, in a burst of movement, the Doctor dove at the machinery, buzzing it with his sonic, a whirr of images and text surging through the air in front of them as he fiddled.

Gratewell, completely taken aback, looked as if he were about to jump at the Doctor and tear him away from the machinery, but before he had the chance, the Doctor grinned and shouted, "Aha!"

"What?" asked Gratewell.

"He's going to tell you that that transmission didn't come from IPSA," Buffy explained to Gratewell.

"This transmission," the Doctor announced, with a flourish, turning to Gratewell and Buffy, "didn't come from..." He trailed off, his smile tumbling off his face. He stared at Buffy, disappointment flooding his features. "How did you know that?"

How had she known? Easy. The Doctor had had his suspicious face on, he'd been surprised that the transmission had come from Lasky's Nebula, and there were two super advanced bio-mechanical armies that didn't want the competent Earth defenses rushing to the rescue.

"Because I'm a Grand Commander," Buffy told the Doctor, pointedly. "Remember?"

"I don't understand," said Gratewell. "The frequency is clearly the one used by IPSA. The transmission came from Lasky's Nebula. It had to be—"

"You've been sending out transmissions for help for a while, now, haven't you, General Gratewell?" the Doctor asked. "I noticed that even though Carflodashians have a distinct advantage in this war, you have very few on hand. Only the ones already living on Earth at the time that Adam first struck, I suspect. You've been getting these sorts of responses a lot, haven't you?"

"The... the... other planets in the Galactic Federation are trying to come to our aid!" said Gratewell. "But these things take time. What with the price of trisilicate what it is, you can't just ship an army overnight."

"Trisilicate?" Buffy asked the Doctor, in a whisper.

"Starship fuel," the Doctor whispered back. He then turned back to Gratewell, speaking in his normal voice. "Mars is right next door, though. That's just a short hop — barely any trisilicate at all. But I'm guessing you've heard nothing at all from the Ice Warriors."

Gratewell said nothing.

"Your transmissions," the Doctor continued, advancing towards Gratewell with real sympathy in his eyes, "haven't left this planet, General Gratewell. Your security systems have all been breached. The truth is, no one is coming to save you, because no one knows that you're in danger."

"IPSA knows that we're in danger!" Gratewell insisted. "The transmission you just heard proves that—"

"It was Adam," said Buffy. "Or... you know. Female Adam. Adametta."

Gratewell didn't say anything.

"Your systems have been compromised," said the Doctor. "Either by Adam, or by the Daleks. Or both. You've been sealed off from the rest of the Galactic Federation, and unless you find some way to break the jam, every single person on this planet is going to die."

"And just how would you go about doing that?" Gratewell demanded. "We have carefully encrypted lines to Lasky's Nebula. We can't simply—"

"Well, for a start," said the Doctor, "I'd like to see your teleporter."

Buffy glared at him. "You're really going through with this?"

The Doctor grinned, and winked at her.

"It's in the tent over from us," said Gratewell. "But... it's a short range teleporter. You can't possibly get off planet with it."

"Yeah, I'm guessing that's not a problem for the Doctor," said Buffy. She turned on him. "But I still really hate this plan."

Gratewell seemed thoroughly perplexed. "Plan?"

"Saving the Earth, General Gratewell!" said the Doctor, clapping him on the back. "And, trust me, the two of us are very, very good at it." He spun the General around to face Buffy. "Just follow everything she says, and the human race will be right as rain!"

Gratewell hesitated.

"General Gratewell," said the Doctor, in a low but serious voice, "trust me. Trust her. I promise, if we all work together, we can and will save this planet."

Gratewell studied the Doctor, carefully, and a little speck of the Doctor's hope seemed to catch in the General's eyes. He glanced back at Buffy, and gave her a sharp salute.

Apparently, Buffy was now in charge.

The Doctor grinned at Gratewell, and then marched forwards towards the teleporter. Buffy scurried after him, her eyes sharp and biting.

"Doctor, if you die," Buffy hissed, "I promise I'll hold nightly séances and bug the hell out of you for the rest of eternity."

The Doctor beamed. "I'd expect nothing less."