Mr. Joy wished for all of this nonsense to be finished. He couldn't stand the screams, they'd promised there wouldn't be any screams. Even with Harris tinkering with the… whatever they were called, this should have been settled. But whenever he asked his head of security, she'd respond with two sentences.

"They haven't moved yet."

And.

"Don't worry, your life is in my hands."

He wondered if he paid her enough to permit these vague responses, Mr. Joy wouldn't even know. Credits were determined by others who he paid to be greedy enough to not care who they're working for. Granted, this whole business was proving to be more boring than any meeting he pretended to be too sick to attend.

A sudden hiss of excitement rushed through Harris' teeth.

"They're on the move." She said excitedly.

With a quick button press, three screens popped up on the massive gap of wall space behind Mr. Joy's desk. The first featured a wave of Tilorians, shields raised and placed sided by side to make a solid square of defense. Another click and the guns bombarded the defense, laser blasts scorching the customized metal. They moved in a steady charge towards one of the nearby amusement park rides, the trampolines. Forming around it like a metal sore, Mr. Joy couldn't see what was happening but twitched as a sonic buzz emanated from Harris' control pad and the defense barriers vanished. Several Tilorians rushed into the entrance and leapt onto the trampolines. The effect was instant, Tilorians jumped through the air like cannonballs and smashed into the security bots with their shields. Their irritatingly bone-less nature allowed them to handle the fall with the ground by rolling right back into the tents. For once, aiming for cheap expenses like fewer security bots had been a poor choice. The Doctor was proving to be more than a pretty face, perhaps a few of those old stories held some truths.

"Where are those other people?" Mr. Joy said.

"The Doctor's sidekick is running through the maintenance tunnels, with your daughter." She added coldly.

Frida, that stung no matter how hard he tried to shake it off. He remembered having her stay in his office quietly while he worked on booking talents for a local intergalactic theater. One day, the job demanded he send her away, he barely had time to explain how he had to travel for probably a year, but that look she gave him was the first sign of many lonely holidays. They lived separately, even after his wife passed. Mr. Joy never aimed to be cruel or indifferent, weakness with riches just left one open to losing it all with the slightest risk, he decided that it just became easier to be known as doing whatever it took to stay rich.

"Have her brought in, unharmed, if the girl does anything… dispose of her in a way that doesn't demand risking my daughter."

"She won't listen to reason." Harris muttered. Yet she obeyed the command after Mr. Joy glared at her in a way to promise that voicing one's opinion had been revoked. They were splashing something along the walls, into random vents, and this made him concerned. He ceased worrying as eighth guards surrounded them and shocked them with stun weapons. Mr. Joy looked away, not wishing to see his daughter's unconscious form as she was carried to the penthouse with Max. It pays to have a hostage, especially with the Doctor on the loose, he thought.

The third screen featured a focus on the tent. Mr. Joy always got a twisting bitterness in his gut when looking at the Tilorians. Like unwanted tenants, they squatted and poisoned a good business opportunity. Them being here first was no excuse if they couldn't appreciate the opportunity, the chance that had cost him family and an easier way of life, and be willing to risk it all. A chance for more than deserved riches, to pay back a lifetime of failures.

He stomached whatever it took, how many needed to be lost, to know that impossible success achieved.

Frida and Max were conscious when they finally arrived at his office. This time, he allowed himself the regret of seeing his own blood in manacles.

"Frida, darling, I-I'm so—"

"Don't you dare," Frida snapped. "All those people down there, not all of them have a few scratches, Mr. Joy, people Died!" There was no trace of familial love in the eyes that faced him. Max shared the sentiment, but he hadn't expected less from someone working with the Doctor.

"I've made a record of everyone who died in this unfortunate accident," Mr. Joy never imagined a person's face could be so strained with anger. "Once all of this is settled and the satellite is decommissioned, I'll never harm a soul again."

"I think she's got a bigger problem with how many you can stomach before that." Max said. "I'm not a fan of you either, evil henchwoman of the year."

Harris gave Max a side-ways glare.

"May I terminate the sidekick?"

"No," Mr. Joy said, slightly bothered by how she continued to inch a hand towards her holstered weapon. "I said No!" Harris, reluctantly retuned both hands to the device.

"Harkness is in the tunnels." Harris said with renewed vigor, clearly desiring to kill someone.

"Show me." Mr. Joy said, he didn't expect much the man was allegedly quite dangerous. Honestly, as he watched the supposedly ancient warrior stomping around he could imagine the Doctor must be busy with the Tilorians, planning on storming the front doors which were heavily guarded. But the Doctor wasn't with them.

In fact, she didn't seem to be anywhere; all the Tilorians took apart the cameras and security bots before rolling back inside. The Doctor wasn't among them.

Then… who?

A sonic noise brought him back to the screen with Harkness, using the screwdriver device as he destroyed the machines that run the Joy Star, keeping his distance from the air ventilation. Mr. Joy could count the credits being lost, and the elusive sum promised started to flicker in his mind as the Undying Man swatted his highly trained guards about like nothing. Old, but still quite thorough; Mr. Joy found himself getting nervous.

"Where is she, where's the Doctor?"

Harris pressed several features on the control board, every second without an answer increased the frustration on her face. Then the woman's expression became entirely flushed.

"Boss," Harris said through gritted teeth. "The weapons being purged, something in the air." Why wasn't she looking at him as she explained this, Mr. Joy thought.

On the screens, all the people possessed by Shadow Skins were coughing up the dark mass as light blazed out of their mouths. Just like the old Tilorian tales implied, he thought they were immature ramblings of a less-educated race. He had interpreted their talk of purging the darkness from within as some mediocre interpretation of the hiccups. The Tilorians should have been just another idiotic race among the stars, the same that cost him a decent living by not wishing to 'insult their heritage' by playing the roles of the monsters in his plays.

"Understood Boss," Harris said while pressing a button. "I'll teach the Doctor a lesson."

Shadows started to shoot from the elevator and struck both young women. Mr. Joy watched in horror as a Shadow Skin started to make a host of his precious daughter. But then a light blazed up from within them and burned it away. They coughed, struggling for breathe, but were still human. Relief turned to outright rage and confusion.

"Harris, explain yours—"

A hot pain struck his gut. Falling backwards, Mr. Joy smelled something cooking and wanted to gag from the scent invading his nostrils. Looking down, he saw a three-inch hole, that seemed like… it could be a problem.

"My true Boss apologizes for any inconvenience but also states how any amount of credits found after leaving the Joy Star would most likely be impossible to use without alerting attention. Ramification Nightmares must be protected. You'll be dead soon; my Boss recommends closing your eyes before seeing your daughter get shot."

Breathing became Hell, but he had little else he could do. Harris aimed her laser pistol at the two women, his beloved Frida. He couldn't even call out to anyone, not even the Doctor.

"My Boss is impressed, taking a sample of the Tilorian enzyme that generates light and spraying it into the ventilation, and ingesting it yourself, that is clever. Must have left a bad aftertaste though. Not to worry, your about to not taste anything again."

Before she could the trigger, Harris' head tilted up as if something urgent was shouted. Her earpiece, Mr. Joy had never bothered to debate how the new hire had always worn an earpiece.

"I heard you the first time, but the room is secure, she can't… what do you mean listen?"

But Mr. Joy heard it first, being closer to the wall after all.

The hiss of a small starship.

It crashed through the far end of the room, a key spot where even the debris couldn't strike anyone. But the shock of the collision knocked everyone off their feet.

The Doctor kicked off the top, brushing her disheveled blonde hair out of the way while getting out. She shuffled about, slightly cross eyed for a moment while clutching her ears and flexing her jaw.

"Ow." The Doctor said. "I forgot how loud that gets."

"How's the Tardis not in a crater if that's how you pilot?"

"Oh, Max, I'm a wonderful pilot," the Doctor said as she stepped closer. "But, you see, crashing takes style." The Time Lord gestured at the surprisingly intact shuttle, even though she seemed prepped to fall over.

Recovering Harris, reached for the pad but the Doctor scooped it up.

"I'll hold onto this, thank you very much."

With a few quick button presses, Mr. joy knew that she had shut down the entire operation. Most of that was guess work, because he found it incredibly difficult to move. Or breathe… in fact, all he wanted was to… go to sleep.

Frida filled his vision. Even with the war makeup on, she looked the stunning image of his beloved. When did he stop thinking about how much that face… gave him joy?

Harris clapped her hands and they all looked at her.

"Well done, Doctor," Harris said. "Apparently my Boss is giving you a message. All of this was a wish to see how you flexed your muscle, courtesy of Ramification Nightmares. Apparently, my Boss wants to show off that you've still lost."

The Doctor looked terrified.

She knelt down and grabbed Harris by the shoulders.

"Reject them." The Doctor said.

"What?"
"Quit, fire yourself, just stop being part of it, before it's too late."

"I am a loyal employee. They appreciate my support."

"And you're brilliantly idiotic to think that a group that makes people weapons has any sense of loyalty to employees, or haven't you wondered why they haven't given you a message."

Harris actually looked very confused.

"Idiot," the Doctor said. "You're the message!"

Before Harris had a chance to respond, a slight spark flickered next to her ear and she spasmed violently. The Doctor watched it, unable to do a thing but watch someone suffer before her eyes. The message received.

Worse, Mr. Joy only realized just how poor a decision he made after closing his eyes for one last time.

A stranger stood on the empty street of the Joy Star. Their gaze looked up at the hole where the tower had been struck. They knew the Doctor had been given the message. Clicking the device used to retire Harris, the stranger made their way towards the edge of the satellite, where transport could be found.

No one needed to be the wiser to the grander plan.

Until it was too late.