Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who.
Author's Note: Hi, all! Uni's been busy, so I haven't updated in a while. Also, it has come to my attention that I had made major continuity errors while writing the early part of this story. I know that Doctor Who is full of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey stuff, including alternate timelines, but this particular error regarding the dynamics between the Brigadier and the Doctor is one that cannot be ignored. As such, I am therefore updating the story so that it fits this dynamic. Chapters II, IV, V, and VI are the only chapters that will be affected. By the time I will have posted this chapter, the changes should already be posted. Thank you to all of those who have read and reviewed so far, and to Marcus S Lazarus, who has offered constructive criticism. Please feel free to reach out to me if you have any questions or thoughts. I am considering still doing a multi-Doctor story with 2 and 13; here, however, I feel it best that the 3rd Doctor will fit better with how I want this story to pan out.
-sousatayue
Here's Chapter VII! Hope you enjoy! :)
OBSIDIAN IX, 2257 CE
Addeis had been right about the tinnitus being temporary; Lethbridge-Stewart found his hearing had returned several minutes after the incident with the Dalek. Fortunately for both of them, no more of those things had been spotted since then.
"It's not that much farther now!" Addeis told him, pointing towards a ridge.
Lethbridge-Stewart nodded. The sooner we find the Doctor, the better. He matched the Obsidinite's pace as they climbed up the rock formation, a nagging thought in his mind. "How did you end up in such a long war against the Daleks, anyway?"
Addeis paused, grip tightening on her weapon. The Brigadier tensed, worried he'd said something wrong, but the Scout answered his question a moment later. "The same way that any other race ends up in a war against those things," she said simply. "Daleks despise anything that isn't a Dalek. They go so far as to exterminate entire populations and subjugate them into slavery if they're lucky. They're ruthless." She looked past him, staring at the horizon. "My people happened to be one of the few who managed to fight back, but the cost is high."
"And yet you've managed to last against them for twenty years," the Brigadier remarked. "Your people's tenacity is remarkable, I'll give you that."
Addeis looked back at him. "This isn't your first war, is it?"
He bit his lip, some of the flashbacks harrowing. "No," he responded. "It isn't. I was just a young Private when I was sent out to fight in the Korean War."
"And how long ago for you was that?"
Lethbridge-Stewart racked his brain. "A bit more than twenty years, I'd reckon." He glanced at her. Given how she's acting, I doubt she's been fighting this war for twenty years. "I've been in several skirmishes since then, but in terms of actual war…" He trailed off, opting to change the subject. "But enough about me, Addeis. How long have you been fighting? You, individually?"
She shrugged. "On the front lines? About a year."
I thought so. Lethbridge-Stewart sighed exasperatedly. "How old are you?"
She blinked. "Seventeen standard years."
The Brigadier groaned. "You poor girl."
"Don't treat me like a child!" Addeis hissed, tail lashing. The Brigadier just noticed the tail for the first time, dinosaur-like and just as reptilian as the rest of her. "War is all I've known for my entire life! And just so we're on the same page, sixteen standard years is legal adult age in this star system."
"On my world, eighteen is the legal adult age," the Brigadier said sternly. "So in my eyes, you're still just a teenager."
Addeis pulled a face. "Let's move."
The two trekked in silence for a while after that. Lethbridge-Stewart did not know how much time had passed, but by the time they arrived at what Addeis had deemed to be the base it was almost nightfall. She pressed a reptilian hand on the rock, a hidden door sliding open.
"Get inside," Addeis urged. "Quickly."
Lethbridge-Stewart obeyed, following her, with the full realisation that he had just placed his life in the hands of a kid. The door shut behind him, sealing them in total darkness. "What now?" he asked.
"Stay behind me," Addeis hissed. "And keep your trap shut."
"I can't see," the Brigadier retorted.
Addeis groaned. "You humans must not be able to see in total darkness," she deduced. "Okay, fine. Just follow the sound of my tread. But be careful."
"Got it," Lethbridge-Stewart whispered.
"This way."
The two tread in the inky blackness, the only sounds being their footsteps and the occasional swishing of the Obsidinite's tail.
This was a bad idea, the Brigadier thought worriedly, feeling his way around in the darkness. But I don't suppose there's any way out of it now.
The two kept walking in silence, Addeis only breaking it when telling the Brigadier that they were almost there…wherever there was.
Lethbridge-Stewart got his answer some time later, noticing a patch of light several metres ahead. The two moved at a slightly faster pace, quickly emerging from the tunnel. Lethbridge-Stewart blinked, eyes adjusting to the lighting as he scanned the corridor. It looked like a cargo bay, filled with crates and with what looked suspiciously like a couple of military tanks.
Addeis nudged him. "Your friends are over there, safe and sound." She pointed towards a set of crates next to the furthest tank. The Brigadier peered across, noticing Benton and Yates playing some sort of card game, and Jo Grant taking a nap. The Doctor looked to be engrossed in watching the UNIT soldiers' progress.
"Thank you, Scout," he said gratefully.
Addeis straightened. "I will inform my CO of your arrival." She turned about-face, tail hitting the Brigadier on the backs of his knees and knocking him flat on his face. He stood back up, brushing himself off. The soldier glanced at his peers, noticing Yates smirking at him. Lethbridge-Stewart rolled his eyes, walking towards them. The smirk wiped right off the Captain's face.
"Brigadier in the room!" he announced, standing with a salute. Benton immediately followed his lead.
"As you were," Lethbridge-Stewart told the soldiers. Yates and Benton dropped their respective salutes. He turned to the Doctor. "I see you managed to acquaint yourself with the young Scout."
The Doctor nodded. "What did she say about me?"
"That you're eccentric and sometimes annoying," he told him.
"So, exactly like what you would have said." The Doctor stood, stretching. "I figured she would have a similar opinion."
Yates snorted. "Well it's not like you would shut up about temporal mechanics while walking for eight hours—nonstop—on an alien planet."
Benton shrugged. "It's not nineteenth-century Vienna, that's for sure."
"Very funny, you two," the Doctor responded.
Lethbridge-Stewart folded his arms. "Doctor, I wasn't asking to be spirited away at two in the morning."
"Two in the morning, eight in the morning; it doesn't make a difference one way or the other," the Doctor dismissed, waving his hand. "The TARDIS does whatever she wants every now and then."
"Including dropping us off in a Dalek war zone?" the Brigadier challenged, raising an eyebrow.
The Doctor frowned. "Unfortunately. That was not my intention, I assure you."
"I don't give a crap whose intention it was. You're here, and you're wanted in the briefing room. Now."
The Brigadier turned, seeing Addeis behind him. "That was quick."
The Obsidinite shrugged. "My Commanding Officer was just down the hall. Wake the female and get ready to move."
"Jo? Jo, wake up."
Jo forced herself awake, looking up at the Doctor. "What's happening?" she asked, yawning.
"The Brigadier's here," he told her. "We're needed in the briefing room. Come on."
She got up from the crate, walking down a hall alongside the Doctor and the soldiers. Jo glanced around the corridor, in awe at how sophisticated the facility was.
"Miss Grant?"
Jo redirected a glance towards Lethbridge-Stewart. "Yes, Brigadier?"
"I find it hard to believe that these people accepted you all without question," the Brigadier said sceptically. "Are you sure you're—"
"Not to worry, Brigadier," the Doctor butted in. "We're quite alright."
Jo nodded, recalling how the Obsidinites had surrounded the TARDIS, mistaking it for a new Dalek weapon. They only stood down once she had told them—albeit somewhat desperately—that they had a doctor on board.
"There was some misunderstanding at first," Jo admitted. "Once I told them about the Doctor, they decided it was in their best interests to hear us out."
Yates snorted. "Yeah, but only after they scanned us with something and determined that we weren't Dalek puppets, whatever the hell those are."
"People infected by Dalek nanogenes and partially converted into Daleks," the Doctor supplied.
Jo shuddered, sickened by the mental imagery that came into her mind. "I could have gone my whole life without knowing that, Doctor."
"That's just the reality of it, Jo," the Doctor responded. "As far as I know, the nanogenes are only present in Dalek prisons, so we should be fine so long as we don't get captured."
Wonderful. "I was under the impression Daleks didn't take prisoners."
"Most of the time, they don't," Addeis told her. "But when they do—well, in my opinion, those poor people were better off being exterminated." The Obsidinite stopped in front of a set of doors. "On that cheerful note," she muttered, voice heavy with sarcasm, "we're here."
She opened the doors. Jo followed the others inside, eyes widening at the advanced technology that resided within. Addeis broke away from the group, stopping in front of a taller, heavily decorated Obsidinite man.
"General Matri," she acknowledged, saluting. "I bring you the Time Lord and his crew." The Obsidinite gestured to the Doctor, Jo, Lethbridge-Stewart, Yates, and Benton, respectively.
The General turned towards them, nodding approvingly. "You did well, Scout." He pushed a button on the console, closing the doors. "ATTENTION!"
The Obsidinite soldiers straightened. "At ease," the General said, his soldiers obeying the command. "Let us begin."
"Now that you all are here," General Matri addressed them, "I would like to outline the next stage of our fight against the Daleks."
Addeis leaned towards Benton. "If it's anything like the past fifteen hundred plans—"
"Do you have something to say to the rest of us, Scout?" Matri asked.
Addeis straightened. "With all due respect, sir, when are you going to execute a plan that won't get so many of us killed?"
"May I speak?" the Doctor asked. The Obsidinite General nodded. "Unfortunately, young one, that's just the reality of fighting against the Daleks. One hit from those lasers and you're finished. People are going to die either way."
"Surely there must be some way to save more lives!" Addeis protested, slamming a fist on the console. "How much longer can we go on like this, watching our people die in this pointless war?!"
"Fighting to protect those you love is not pointless, young one!" the Doctor rebuked her sternly.
"It is when you know that the only thing that's going to happen is that you will watch them die at the hands of monsters!" she snarled.
"That is not a guarantee!"
"What do you know of guarantees here, Time Lord?" Addeis challenged. "You've only been on this planet for less than a standard day! You haven't had to watch my people suffer and die at the hands of—"
"ENOUGH!"
Both heated individuals turned to the General, whom Benton noticed looked somewhat pissed off. "Am I not allowed to conduct a briefing without having to listen to uncivilised insolence?"
The Doctor looked away. "My apologies, General."
Addeis glared at him, tail lashing furiously.
Matri glanced at her, having also noticed the nonverbal cues. "Addeis, you are dismissed until you can approach this situation with a clearer head."
The Obsidinite's eyes widened. "But—"
The General's eyes narrowed. Benton placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a sympathetic look. "It's best not to argue, kid."
Addeis shoved herself out of Benton's grasp, stalking out of the room. The Sergeant exchanged a confused glance with Yates, who merely shrugged.
Matri sighed. "Now, then. Let us continue."
The briefing went on for another hour—or what looked to be an hour, based on the clock on the wall—without much further incident, but Benton could tell that it wasn't just Addeis and the Doctor who were getting agitated. Benton narrowly avoided being slapped in the face by some of the Obsidinites' tails several times, and he got quite a few awkward stares during the session's relatively short bathroom break sometime later.
No, I don't have a tail. But this really isn't the best place to be judgemental, fellas.
Benton washed up, following everyone back to the briefing room. People seemed to be feeling a bit better, and the Obsidinite General had evidently decided that Addeis had calmed down enough to be let back inside when Benton saw her stand next to him. The doors closed, and the session was reconvened.
FIVE HOURS LATER…
The Doctor shook his head exasperatedly as he exited the briefing room. They had been in there most of the night, and the only thing that had been accomplished was the TARDIS crew's conscription into the war. Benton, Lethbridge-Stewart, and Yates had been assigned to the front lines as military advisors due to their battlefield experience. Jo had been sent to work in Tactical and Intelligence.
As for the Doctor…he had been sent to sickbay. It was rather fitting, though the Time Lord's hearts hurt for his companions.
Lethbridge-Stewart. Benton. Yates. Jo. I am so sorry I dragged all of you into this.
None of them were strangers to fighting the Daleks. But the Doctor grimly noted that the more times he encountered the creatures, the more murderous they became.
Chills went up the Time Lord's spine as he walked the long corridors to the medical wing. He heard faint whispers, but when he turned around, pausing briefly, he saw no-one.
The Doctor shook his head, sighing as he resumed his trek. It's probably the hydraulics—assuming this place even has hydraulics, that is.
He eventually found his destination, walking inside, somewhat unsurprised to discover it was mostly empty.
"That's the thing with fighting the Daleks," he whispered. "Not many people who are wounded come back alive."
The Time Lord was then approached by an ancient-looking medical droid. "Do you require assistance, sir?"
"No, thank you," the Doctor told the robot. "General Matri sent me here."
The robot tilted its head to the side. "So you do require assistance!"
The Doctor pulled a face, annoyed. "No, I tell you, I don't."
"Then tell me why you are here. Unless…you are lost?"
The Time Lord facepalmed. "No, you incompetent piece of scrap metal, I am not lost. And before you activate your vocabulary box again, no, I do not need medical assistance!"
A medical technician ran over to them, placing a hand on the robot's shoulder as she directed her gaze towards the Doctor. "My apologies, sir," the Obsidinite woman said hastily. "Z-1 can be a bit obnoxious sometimes."
"I can see that," the Time Lord deadpanned.
The technician frowned. "Was there a particular reason you stopped by?"
Finally. Someone who actually knows what the hell they are doing. The Doctor straightened. "Yes, there is. I was just conscripted into the war effort; General Matri sent me here."
The technician's eyes widened. "Oh—so you're the doctor we were told to expect?"
"That's correct."
"Oh, for fuck's sake, why does it have to be with him?" the robot complained.
The technician frowned. "Z-1, when was the last time you had a recharge?"
"My last charging cycle was at 0700 two weeks ago. Battery is currently at nineteen percent."
"Then I suggest you rectify that before your next shift."
"Yes, Erida." The robot walked off into a nearby corridor, turning into a hallway that the Doctor could not make out. The technician sighed. "Sorry. He gets cranky when his battery's low."
"That's quite alright," the Doctor reassured her. "Erida, wasn't it?"
"Yes," the woman responded. "We'll need to get a sample of your DNA to keep on record. Standard procedure. Is that okay with you, Doctor…?"
"Just 'the Doctor,'" he said, waving a hand. "And if it is standard procedure, then I think it would be remiss of me to decline."
Erida nodded, handing him a tablet and a stylus. "You will need to sign this consent form and confidentiality agreement. Once you've finished, you'll swipe left to the next document and fill out some paperwork—just standard personal information," she explained upon seeing the Time Lord's dismayed expression. "It shouldn't take more than five to ten minutes."
"Okay," the Doctor sighed, accepting the devices. "Is there anywhere—"
Erida pointed to a chair next to what appeared to be a receptionist's desk. "There's fine."
The Time Lord ultimately finished the paperwork around—according to the chronometer on the tablet—eight minutes later, though there was some information he could not disclose (his true name, for starters, so he simply put "the Doctor" and hoped for the best). He handed it to Erida, who raised an eyebrow.
"You're Gallifreyan?" she asked, surprised.
"Yes," the Doctor responded. "I assume the General told you that earlier."
Erida shook her head. "No; all he said was that we were to expect a doctor, meaning you." Her tail twitched. "So, what kind of a doctor are you? A medical one, right?"
"Oh, yes," he confirmed. "I am also a doctor of many other things."
"The only thing I'm concerned with is the medical aspect of your specialties," Erida told him. She entered some information into the tablet, looking back up at him a moment later. "Your shift starts tomorrow morning at 1100. The full shift schedule will be on-screen here in Reception. You will clock in and out using Bioscan 1 or 2, both of which are located here." The Obsidinite pointed at two devices attached to the desk. "Doctors' barracks are located in the Northeast wing of the base." She glanced back up at him. "Do you have any questions before I take the DNA sample?"
"Just one," the Doctor told her. "I don't quite know my way around this place yet. Is there a map anywhere?"
Erida nodded. "There are directories in here and in the briefing room. Access to them is biometrically encrypted, as a precaution in the event that we are under attack by the Daleks."
"That plan may be fallible in the event that the Daleks release nanogenes and you all get infected," the Doctor warned.
Erida's eyes widened. "They have nanogenes?"
"Yes, Erida, they do."
She sighed. "In that case, we'll need to find an antigen."
"I don't know if that's possible."
She shrugged. "It won't be possible if we don't try."
Fair point. But it's also very risky. "How will you be able to isolate them?"
"While I was in medical school, I learned a little bit about how the Chula were able to contain nanogenes for medical purposes. I can do more research on it, if that helps."
"Go for it," he encouraged her.
Erida pricked the Doctor's finger as he watched. The technician took a small blood sample before placing a small bandage over the wound. The Doctor looked up, startled upon seeing the faint outline of a stone angel in the corner. He blinked, confused, and it faded after a moment.
"Doctor? Are you alright?"
He turned, seeing Erida looking at him with concern. He furrowed his brow. "Yeah. I'm just tired, that's all." What the hell was that about? He checked the wall clock, noticing that the time read 2359 ST. "What is 'ST'?"
"Standard Time," Erida explained, glancing at the clock. "Twenty-four-hour days, 365 days per year, based off the Shadow Proclamation calendar. I forget where they got it from, though."
"That's quite alright," the Doctor told her, wanting to end the conversation there. "I think I'll head to the barracks now."
Erida nodded. "I'll escort you there, just so you don't get lost on the first go."
The Doctor looked at her gratefully. "Thank you."
Fortunately, the two didn't have very far to walk, as the medical staff barracks were just a short distance away from sickbay. The Time Lord thanked her, and the two parted ways. The Doctor found a room that was designated for him—a single-person suite, he noted, which was good—and entered its bathroom, taking a shower. He emerged several minutes later, more than happy to have gotten sweat and grime off of himself. The Time Lord found a set of pyjamas and pants provided by the Obsidinites—both of which, upon closer inspection, thankfully did not have a tail-hole in the back—and put them on. The pyjama fabric was relatively cool to the touch, with an appearance to clothes made of silk. For all he knew, it could actually be silk.
The Doctor rinsed his mouth with what looked to be mouthwash, looking up into the mirror after spitting it back into the sink.
Only…the reflection he saw was not his own.
Instead, the reflection he saw was that of a younger person—a blonde woman, with an earring on her left ear, and short hair that went down halfway between her jawline and her collarbone. From what he made out as he backed up against the nearby wall behind him—and she did the same thing—she looked to be wearing a blue tank top that was the same shade as the TARDIS, and black thigh-length shorts. Her hazel eyes seemed to be staring right back at him, straight into his soul.
The Doctor raised an eyebrow in confusion. The woman in the mirror did the same thing, with the same eyebrow. He did a bunch of ridiculous faces, and she mimicked them perfectly.
"This is…weird," he muttered. The woman lip-synced as he uttered those words, mimicking his exact motions without missing a beat.
The Doctor turned away, taking a deep breath before turning to face the mirror again. He saw his own reflection staring at him this time, echoing his quizzical expression. The Time Lord sighed. "I need sleep."
He shut off the lights in the bathroom, closing the door behind him before plopping himself on the bed on the other side of the room. The Time Lord tried to sleep, but thoughts of the strange angel and the woman in the mirror kept plaguing him. He closed his eyes after a few moments or so, knowing that he'd drift off eventually.
The whispering the Doctor had heard hours earlier returned, chilling him to the bone as insomnia ensued.
