Time and Tide: 8 One Enmity Healed, One Refined


Jamie nervously pressed close. He was already thinking ahead to the troubles sure to follow, and would his pipes suffer? "Och, ye cannae hear yeself think in all this ruckus!" He complained of the noise.

"Oh, my word." The Doctor said helpfully.

"What are we supposed tae do, Doctor?"

"No idea." The Doctor was a little bewildered. "Normally this sort of thing doesn't happen."

"Ye think they're a little more active this time aroo because the Sontarans managed tae invade Gallifrey?" Jamie tried to whisper this—it fell under information the Doctor "wasn't supposed to know for the integrity of his Timeline," but rules never meant much to the CIA, and even less to the Doctor, and the Doctor was more resistant to their mind-wiping than they knew.

Both Doctor and Piper lived in fear of the day in which the Time Lords learned he had knowledge of his future selves...it would mean instantaneous enforced regeneration and exile to Earth—and worse, they'd be separated. But Jamie had to ask that question.

"Invade Gallifrey?" The Doctor snorted at the thought. "That wasn't an invasion so much as beginner's luck, Jamie!" He gave the young human a frosty glare. "Everyone gets that now and then."

"Och, is that what ye call it?" Jamie asked as blandly as he could, even as chaos continued to shake the atmosphere. Some of the attendees were walking out in protest, horrified at the presence of the representative of the Station's massacre. It was in vain the Castellans tried to stop them.


The Tribunal had been placidly waiting for the hysteria to die down before proceeding, but they could not fail to hear the Doctor's huff of indignation. "Oh, that old fossil!" He exclaimed as an elderly dignitary swept away in as much dignity as he carried in grams of weight (his robes were sewn gold threads). "We need calm—and an empty room isn't the same as calm!"

Jamie hoped he imagined the cool, remote interest the Tribunal's gazes uniformly carried whenever the little Doctor was in their presence. If there could be one word for their strange expressions, it might be called "waiting."


Sontarans are heavy-gravity warriors with a lot of cellular density that requires parallel muscle and skeletal support. They are one of the few species that could crush an Androgum with little effort (assuming they could get the drop on that faster species). They do not accept their limitations well, and a force field actually strong enough to hold one is considered a limitation.

Vard howled his outrage in his own language and struck the field again and again. Jamie guessed the words coming out of his mouth were all foul; the translating field wasn't covering it at all.

Sadly for anyone suicidal enough to enjoy the spectacle of a trapped, squirming Sontaran, the Commander was intelligent. He soon enough realized brute muscle was not going to save his day and he subsided, shaking with rage and glaring at every being in the Court.

The Hearing had begun.


"On Space Station Chimera, an almost total loss of life occurred when the Sontarans under the command of High Fleet Commander Vard murdered every living being they could find."

As usual, the ruddy-haired Tribunal (2) led the talking. "Over twelve hundred lives were lost from your orders, Vard. Do you accept charges or do you deny them?"

"Uh, oh." The Doctor muttered.

Vard's tongue flapped out of his lips. He had stopped roaring because he couldn't do anything and Sontarans are rather more aware of their dignity than some species. His agitation was high enough to mottle his flesh a shade that made Jamie think of seagull eggs and his black eyes were bright and unblinking.

"Return my weapon, you cowards! I will defend myself with honor and not the womanish words of your weak people!"

"Cowards?!" The Doctor quite lost control in his rage. "You slaughtered unarmed staff unable to rouse the orders from their drugged superiors—pacifists who only wanted to improve the Universe for the betterment of all! Which included Sontarans! You shot them as they sprawled in a stupor, or as they lifted their hands in surrender, and you dare call the Time Lords cowards!"

It was amazing how such a little man could make his voice ring when he was truly upset. Jamie never failed to be impressed by it, as well as nervous because of the circumstances that brought the display about.

"P2(9*200), be silent!" Madame Supervisor exclaimed in a voice tight with control in the shocked Court.

"So your honor's tied up in your weapon, is it Vard? So dry and disposable as all of that? Lose your honor and you can just go back to your ship and pick out another one just like it? At least the rest of the people in this room are practical enough to carry their honor inside themselves!" The Doctor completely ignored the Madame Supervisor, which, Jamie knew uncomfortably, was a watershed moment in their prickly relationship.

It was hard to say who was more affected: the shocked Sontaran, or the mourners. Jamie could see awareness dawning over the faces of different races: High emotions would not carry the day. The Sontaran was on trial, not they.

The Ice Warriors hissed as they began nodded, one after another amongst themselves.

"He iss right." A slender Commander who looked like he had both castes in his bloodline spoke. The Court's automated otocousticons, following protocol, dampened the sounds so his soft voice could be heard. "The Ssontaranss must explain or their honor will remain a question for the rest of the Galaxiess."

Vard's mottled flesh turned agate. "A Martian defends a weak little Time Lord? One who personally destroyed your own people's fleet in your past?"

In the stone-cold silence that descended the Court, the Doctor put his hands on his hips and exhaled through his nose.

The Ice Lord stepped forward, his scales glittering.

Everyone was very quick to let him through.

The Ice Lord stopped before the force field and traded long glares with the Fleet Marshall.

"The Doctor needss no defending, Ssontaran. He tellss the truth."

"You value the truth of a coward!" Vard struck the force field with his mailed fist. "You Ice Warriors had honor once; you would have been worthy foes! No more! You've become women!"

"Ssssss-ssssss-sssssss."

It took some time for the Court to realize the Ice Lord was laughing. The others in his party were laughing as well. Even the Tribunal looked a little surprised; Jamie didn't blame them.

"A sstrange honor, Vard, if you think there iss more than one truth." The Ice Lord murmured. "This iss the ssame Doctor who desstroyed our vanguard in Earth'ss Ice Age. He is the ssame Doctor who ssent our Invassion Fleet into the Earth'ss ssun in more reccent time, crushing our planss to end life on Earth for our colonizzation. We have fought in the passt many timesss."

"And you support him!"

"The Truth needss no ssupport. The Doctor is the Warrior for Earth; we acccepted that before we joined the Federatttttion...and the Doctor hass been our ally ever ssincce. Asss long asss we remain warriorss in the Battle to defend Life." Jamie wondered if he was actually seeing a smile. "We have a proverb, Fleet Marsshall. 'Whoever musst conquer, musst firsst cut the Doctor'ss name in hiss own flessh.'"

"Oh, bother." The Doctor muttered. "In other words, prepare to die in battle."

"That's one divil of a compliment." Jamie muttered back.

"Shush, Jamie. I'm planning my funeral now. Would you like my recorder?"

"Aye, I'll keep it wi' me chaunter."

"You are on trial for your sslaughter against the Third Zzone, Fleet Marsshall." The Ice Lord whispered. "You still have the chancce to stand with honor. Will you hide from the truth?"

"I hide nothing!" Fleet Marshall bellowed. "I am Sontaran! My honor is clear!"

"You have proven your honor falsse." The Ice Lord said coolly. "Or at the leasst, your honor is frail and -"

Jamie wondered if the word translated well, because "virginal" was an odd thing to say in the context, but it sent the Sontaran into a fit of rage. Half the words he spat sent moisture against the Force walls, and he would not stop screeching.

"Did he actually say that?" Jamie whispered to the Doctor.

"I...think so." The little man's eyes were as wide as they could possibly go. "I'm beginning to wonder if there's some nasty history between Ice Warriors and Sontarans that we don't know about?"

"Aye..."

A sharp bellow cut off the tirade.

The Second Tribunal's eyes were burning and Vard had frozen in the act of shouting.

Jamie cringed, remembering how the War Lord had screamed at the top of his lungs against the mental light flooding his mind.

"Your actions are why thiss trial, Vard." The Ice Lord insulted the larger alien by ignoring his title. "Honor sspeakss for itsself." He backed away without breaking his gaze.

"You collaborated with Dastari and the Androgum Chessene in their plans to steal the experimental Time Machine on Chimera and use it in your war against the Rutans." The First Tribunal Officer spoke quietly. He was the smallest of the three, and had the most compassionate voice; the one most likely to demonstrate horror for the loss of life (particularly innocent life). "With the Time Machine you were planning to conquer the Galaxy, and then the Universe. Such forces are entirely out of your understanding and far too dangerous to contemplate. You risk destroying reality to make all of creation into nothing."

Vard rumbled, his unblinking eyes sinking into the Tribunal's. His tongue flicked out again, tasting the air.

"I have nothing to say to you."

"Your men went to Earth, which is still a Class V Planet. Only non-interfering races are permitted to go to Earth in order to permit the peoples their natural development. Do you deny this charge?"

"I have nothing to say to you."

"Although the spacecraft was hidden, it was turned into a bomb as an emergency procedure. This craft did indeed explode by the hands of your appointed Marshall Stike. This could have irrevocably damaged the lives of the people native to this land. Do you deny this charge?"

"I have nothing to say to you."

"Your men murdered by collaboration innocent and non-interfering Earthers under the Androgum Shockeye's hand. As well as murder the innocents, you planned the unlawful abduction of the Time Lord sent by us to stop the Station's dangerous experiments in Time."

The Tall Tribunal picked up the thread. "Your officers assisted in Dastari's vivisection of the Time Lord in order to discern his ability to Time Travel. Vivisection is an outdated, primitive procedure rejected throughout the civilized planets for its cruelty and wastefulness. Do you deny that the Sontaran Species are in violation of this action?"

Sick with horror, Jamie looked at the Doctor. The little man was standing stock-still with a face as white as paper. The worst part was in his eyes; he did not notice Jamie at all. He must be in shock, the Piper hoped. The weight of all the eyes had suddenly switched to the small man, and surely it was crushing to a being who had even a little telepathic ability.

"Doctor?" Jamie grabbed him, pitching his voice low.

"I don't remember, Jamie." The Doctor murmured, his eyes dark in distress. "They must have found...something..." The marks of cellular sampling... Oh, that had to have been it. He didn't remember what happened, and was probably unconscious, but still...

"I have nothing to say to you." Vard was saying.

"Your officers, of whom their responsibility rests with you, marked our Emissary with physical abuse. We found proof of a cracked cheekbone in the pattern of a Sontaran mailed fist. Do you deny this action?"

Oh. Now that he remembered. A sorry attempt to get free by provoking Stike into a duel. Too bad for the Doctor that Stike actually had an eye on the Long Game for Sontarans.

"I have nothing to say to you."

"You also struck an agreement with Chessene in private. You wanted the Time Lord's TARDIS for the Sontarans, adding theft to your crimes of murder, torture, kidnapping, unlawful intrusion into a Class V World, and placing the stability of the very Universe in danger. Do you deny this charge?"

"I have nothing to say to you."

The Doctor had been holding himself tightly as a clockspring throughout the Tribunal's cool accusations. Jamie leaned closer and put his free arm around the little man's shoulder.

"With the murders of the scientists you plotted with Chessene and Dastari to make the Third Zone believe the Time Lords had instigated these foul acts, and engaged in this wanton loss of life. You knowingly fractured the peaceful relationships of the Third Zone with these actions, hoping to instigate a war between the Third Zone and Gallifrey. The loss of priceless life is incalculable, and the loss of knowledge a terrible blow to the entire Universe. Do you deny this charge as well?"

"I have nothing to say to you."

"There is also the crime of a life left to die in the Station." The Speaker was not finished. "Our Emissary's companion. He escaped only to languish among the dead for weeks until he was finally rescued. Without that rescue he would have eventually died from the strain to his mind and body. Do you deny this charge?"

For the first time, Vard smiled.

"The weak minds and bodies of weak species are not the responsibility of the Sontarans." He announced in dark glee.

Jamie held his breath until spots danced over his eyes and the Doctor...the Doctor was wiring back up for another well-aimed slice of insults. "Hsht," He whispered, squeezing the little man's shoulder. "Be calm. He's just a shallow stream, and a desperate man tae boot."

The Sontaran stiffened, his beady black eyes glinting like marbles. "How dare you, you insect!"

"Me?" Jamie repeated. He hadn't known the otocousticals would make their conversation audible to the others in the Court.

"You dare call me desperate? Have you heard me beg for my life, you pitiful thing? I am High Fleet Commander Vard!"

Oh, so that's how it was going to be.

Jamie felt his mouth tighten. His eyes went hard and his fingers pressed warningly into the Doctor's shoulder, a signal to wait and see. Pulling away from the Doctor, he tucked his pipes to his side and stepped down from the platform. If the Ice Lord was allowed to approach, then he'd try it for himself.

"I accept yer name, High Commander. But I have already heard ye beg for yer life mony times this day already. You beg for it every time ye ask for a weapon, or delay justice by pretendin' what happens here disnae matter. But mostly, I hear ye beggin' for mercy in yer own actions, and in hiding behind the pretense o'honor."

"Sontarans have no pretense to honor, Insect."

Jamie threw back his head and laughed. He let it slide throughout the air of the Court, against the silence of those who would judge, and the throats of those who would criticize. "Do ye not know?" He exclaimed. "The dead of my people take on the form o' insects, so I canna take offense at being called one. But I am James. Robert. McCrimmon, Piper of Clan McLaren, the Lions o' Laurel!"

Jamie faced the Sontaran with his face pale and his jaw set. "Do ye not noo' the face o' the dead, Sontaran?" He demanded. "Do ye not already know that you fought against the dead and lost? Ye Sontarans are silly men.

"And in all the years I've fought, and in all the lives I've taken, never once has muh honor been so weak and thin that I tol' myself it was honor to slaughter the defenseless and the poisoned! When I killed it was knowing I could die from it. When I fought it was against those who could kill me as easily as I could kill them. It was in those fights that proved who was the better fighter on that day...but it didn't make me any more or less right. It only proved the fighter.

"And what did ye prove, when ye shot the people in the back, Vard? When they begged for mercy? When they tried tae get away frae' ye? What did ye prove when ye smashed the airlock with them screamin' inside it? It says there were noo fighters that day, just carrion-eaters-aye, ye heard me! Carrion eaters! Noo lazier "battle," is there, than looting the dead!"

Jamie pitched his voice, a Piper trained to be heard over the harshest clamour of battle, of screaming men and horses, and of metal and guns. "Ye claim Sontarans are warriors! I am a warrior, Vard! Never have I refused battle, but you did! YE REFUSED BATTLE AND CHOSE SAFE SLAUGHTER INSTEAD! GIVE YE A WEAPON? I WOULDNA TRUST YE WI' A TABLE KNIFE! YE MIGHT MISUNDERSTAND IT FOR A TOOTHPICK AND SWALLOW IT BY ACCIDENT!"

It was just as well that the otocousticals dropped a full damper upon Vard's cell. He did his best to not only bash his way out of the force wall to get at Jamie, but he was screaming imprecations that might have offended some of the younger ears in the Courtroom.

"Ah...Jamie..." The Doctor coughed lightly in the ringing silence.

Jamie looked back at the Doctor, who was eyeing him warily.

"The Court can't really proceed if someone has an aneurism in the middle of it."

"Ay, yer right." Still fuming a bit, Jamie looked at the Ice Lord. "My apologies for interruptin' yer conversation, sir."

"No offensse is taken." The Martian was smiling. "Jamess Robert McCrimmon, Piper for the Clan McLaren. Ice Lord Axssor." The Martian extended his gloved hand; someone must have trained him on Human protocols. Jamie returned the grip simply.

"Tis good to be on the side of peace wi' a Martian."

"I quite agree."


Jamie nodded one last time and rejoined the Doctor. The little man was smiling very quietly, but he was pleased. It struck the Piper that they had witnessed too few reconciliations with their past. The Martians have been one of their more important ones.

"Well done, Jamie." The Doctor murmured as they stood side by side. "Well done indeed."

It was the little moments like this, that Jamie was proud to be human. He was standing for his people in this moment, and it was a sharp stick in the eye against the Time Lords who thought his people were incurably warlike and savage.

"Fleet Marshall Vard," The Tribunal was saying. "Do you speak in your own defense or in explanation?"

"Neither, Time Lord." The Sontaran panted. His color had changed again, from seagull-speckled to an odd liverish mottling. "Sontarans do not surrender."

And with a rattle and a bang, the doors burst free from their seals and a phalanx of Sontarans in full armor strode into the Court, weapons primed and ready.


The Doctor, it was often said, was a panicky little man, prone to rabbit off before stopping long enough to see if it was necessary. Jamie had heard more than one Time Lord tell him to his face that something must have "been off" with his regeneration and he would do well to make sure that didn't happen the next time he changed.

The Doctor was hardly ashamed of his kneejerk reaction to the noisome invasion. He grabbed Jamie and threw him backwards into the shadows behind the short rail, hiding the youth with his body and hoping beyond hope that the Sontarans would overlook him in the excitement of containing a court full of hysterical Third Zoners, furious Martians, and all the representatives of Gallifrey.

It said something about the situation that for once, Gallifrey was united. Time Lords, Outsiders, Shobogans, the CIA and her parolees struggled to contain the hysteria in the filling courtroom. The Doctor saw Madame Supervisor personally block with her body a Sontaran's swagger stick aiming at two of the child-sized Rendeleshen delgates, and mentally nodded. A long-standing suspicion on her military training—and nerve—had been satisfied.

He ducked to the dark corner where a little-used door was kept for the discreet use of the Tribunal. It was probably a gross breach of protocol to even touch it, but...a quick dash with the sonic screwdriver and the lock's magnetized bolts popped. He leaned over the rail, grabbed the nearest attendee—an Outsider boy—and yanked him up and through the door. "Get to the Attack Shelters!" He snapped, banking that the youth would be too shocked to argue. He leaned down, gabbed a girl of the same age, and did the same. Jamie had recovered by then and joined in the newly invented sport of Close-Approach Civilian Trawling.

The ruckus was positively fantastic, but that was to be expected when you had more than one fully armed Sontaran in the room-and this room now had at least twenty. No weapons firing? Odd. Wrong. And the Tribunals were standing there like polite pyramids, with distress on their faces and no other reaction as the Sontarans elevated large riot shields of solid glasstic and pressed the squirming people, inch by inch, against the walls. At least the Gallifreyans remained between the Sontarans and the non-Gallifreyans.

It was too busy to see everything, even from their view on the platform. But something went CRUNK and the force field holding Vard vanished. The leading warrior lowered his hand and a modified swagger stick, saluting with his mailed fist.

"You will cease all movement or you will die!" The Sontaran announced.

Oh, dear.

The Doctor traded a look with Jamie, who nodded. The handful of children were safe and hopefully, halfway to the Attack Shelters.

"Do as he says!" The Tribunal lifted their hands. "We will not support the further loss of life!"

"Very wise of you, Time Lord, to be consistent." Vard ran his tongue across his lips. Battle-lust sprinkled hectic coloring over his head. "And since you conceded so efficiently, we will only take two hostages with us."

Somehow, the Doctor knew where this was going. A final Sontaran came in, a Demat carpet rolled under his arm. Oh, dear, dear. It looked like the Sontarans had been paying for decent equipment...the carpet was only good for a single use and was pre-programmed in its destination. Useful but limited and very expensive but worth it to a tactician who did not want to be followed home by his enemies.

"You." Vard lifted his swagger stick to Jamie and the Doctor. The two slowly lifted their hands. "Come down here now. You will spare the lives of these paltry weaklings if you obey my orders."

"All Right..." The Doctor's hearts pounded in his chest. He could hear Jamie's as well. Slowly, they picked their way down the short steps and crossed the ruined court-floor to Vard's portion. All around them the Court was holding itself in an awful hushed silence. The wounded and stunned were huddled together, trembling and struggling for composure. The Demat carpet was unrolled and waiting.

"This is set to stun." Vard leveled the swagger stick to a point just between their heads. "At this range a single burst will destroy their minds. That is what will happen if we are hindered in any way." The Soldiers filed backwards, until Vard and the two hostages were surrounded, slowly but surely pushed to the center of the Demat carpet.

"Which is to do what?" The Doctor snapped. This temperamental show of courage was a surprise to those who did not know him; he was hoping the Sontarans would reveal something of their long-term plans in this mess.

"To your own trial, little Renegade." Vard grinned. "My people claim insult for your actions against us. Should the outcome be in our favor we will of course return you to your own people."

"A Ssontaran Trial iss Trial by Combat!" Axor hissed. Like the Gallifreyans, the Martians had placed themselves in a protective ring around the civilians.

"So it is." Vard licked his lips. "Would you like to fight in his place?"

"Axor, don't!" The Doctor yelped as among the pushing and shoving, manacles clapped about their wrists. "Don't do what he wants! Please!"

"Aye! They're likely tae attack this Station once they get oot o'here!" Jamie urged.

"Well, Martian? Where is your honor today?"

"My honor is where it has always been."

"Typical slythy response." Vard scorned. "I may see you in battle...but somehow I doubt it."


Transmatting into a Sontaran ship is never a pleasant experience. The soldiers keep the ship's gravity lighter than is natural for their Coreworld because it conserves power and adds a useful resilience in movement. It is still a little heavier than most species like.

Jamie gasped slightly at the metallic stench of Sontaran atmosphere, and made his weighted limbs obey as they were pushed, pulled, and shoved off the Transmat down a garishly lit hallway that scorched his eyes. The Doctor was swearing at the guards in their own language, which Jamie didn't understand. The creativity of his verbal skills was enough that the Sontarans were actually listening to him with bemused expressions on their faces—it must be good. Too bad the Piper didn't know what the little man was saying about their cloning techniques.

Inside a cubical room they were pressed at gunpoint to stand on a small, raised platform of a metal circle. From there a chain passed about their waists, binding them together. "Hold Still," Vard commanded.

"We have a choice?" The Doctor asked indignantly.

A clear tube of tempered glasstic came down from the ceiling, around them, and settled into the grooves of the platform. The platform's raised border elevated about a foot in height, holding the tube well within. There was precious little room to move.

"Sokor, prepare our battle formation." Vard looked at his inferior.

"At once, High Fleet Commander."

Alone, the prisoners took the best of the situation and struggled to sit—or kneel, as the case was. This meant getting temporarily squashed between glasstic and each other until they could settle.

"People are always takin' us hostage?" Jamie moaned. "We're no good at being hostages! We're terrible at it!"

"I know, I know..." The Doctor soothed. "I've tried telling them before, believe me." He lifted his manacled hands to run his fingers through his silver hair. "They just don't seem to understand!"

Jamie sighed and shifted his weight as the craft lurched. "Aye, what d'ye think's gunna happen?"

"Oh, let's see...if we're really lucky they'll take us all the way to the Sontaran Core World for a Death Match in the arena. I give our lifespace about thirty minutes, tops, after they finish playing the Sontaran Anthem—at least it's only half as long as Gallifrey's."

"Sma' favours. And if we're not lucky?"

"They'll realize they've grabbed up the most worthless, despised hostages in Gallifrey's checkered history, and swing back in a misguided attempt to get someone who's worth a pink pandak." He exhaled, depressed. "My word, this is not very encouraging for the Sontarans, is it? All those lives on the Station, and they had to pick the only two beings Gallifrey wouldn't trade in, even if they threw in a raft of taranium!"

"Aye, they're bound to be cross when they find out."

"Ah, well. There has to be some order and balance in the Universe, Jamie. Just think. Right now the CIA is throwing one impressive party!" The Doctor mimed a balancing scale, evening out. "I bet it lasts a week! They'll rent out the Carnelian Ballroom and give out door prizes!"

"Aye, sounds verra Irish." Jamie said peaceably. The situation was looking grimmer with every second, but it was nice to deviate from reality for a bit and play with his imagination. "Hope they can afford all o'that."

"They probably can. At least until later when they go through my effects." The Doctor snickered. He was suddenly wearing the most evil grin Jamie had yet seen on his cherubic face. "Joke'll be on them, Jamie."

"Oh? Aye?"

"I made the CIA the sole benefactors in my will if I died under their command, assuming you were dead as well."

Jamie thought that over. He thought it over again. He looked hard at the Doctor, who was still grinning like a drunken badger. "How is that a joke?"

"I haven't paid my taxes in almost 400 years!"

"Mwahahaahahahah!" Jamie exploded. "Ye daft wee chappie!" He watched as the little man let his overly large coat sleeves drop over the manacles, hiding much of their appearance as he worked his way around the mechanisms. "Any luck?"

"Odd locking mechanism." The Doctor confessed. "A little too clever to be Sontaran...feels like some Dalekenium..." He lifted it to his mouth and gave the metal a quick taste.1 As usual, Jamie shuddered. "Dalekenium, chromium...a little titanium, and some meteroid iron-high carbon. Blech. Wonder how they got that?" He blinked. "Jamie, the next time we get caught by the Daleks, remind me to look for their metallurgic cookbooks."

"Ye can write a thesis later, ye daft little thaumaturge." It occurred to Jamie that they had stopped being 'sane' long ago, if they could calmly discuss the "not if, when" of being caught by Daleks. "Right noo we need tae get ou'."

"I know, I know..." The Doctor muttered something under his breath, his fingers dancing nimbly around the short length of chain. "Dalekenium...Dalekenium...haven't used sonic locks in a Centaurian's age...basic restraints used for collecting humanoids for analysis in future species conversion... Jamie, reach into my left pocket, would you please? There's an energy meter in there somewhere."

"This isn't the pocket wi' the mousetrap, is it?"

"Don't think so..." Was the absent response. The Doctor was still running his fingertips over their metal restraints, soaking up everything he could get in the way of information. "Hmn." He managed to get the wider part of a cuff to his ear. "Stop a moment, Jamie. Tap the metal with your ring so I can hear the vibration."

"Right." Jamie grouched. "Just as I finally got tae yer pocket too!" He shifted again, and after quite a bit of wrestling between the two bodies, he got to the point where he could do as the Doctor asked...if he held his breath, pushed against the wall of their cell with his knees, and moved up as high as possible. A dull ting rang in the air and the Piper fell back with a whoosh.

"Now that is odd." The Doctor muttered. "All right, you can go back to looking for the energy whatsit. It feels like a small, square bit of plastic with rounded corners. There will be a plate of metal on one side." The Doctor whispered back. "Hello!" He chirruped to a passing guard. "I say, could we get some water? It'll be thirsty work, screaming for our lives once we get to the Arena! Oh, well. Don't worry—we'll ask you again later!" Sotto voce: "Get it out now, Jamie. I have the feeling that time is sliding through our fingers."

Jamie grimaced and struggled to comply, both of them trying to act as normal as possible as he did so. The Sontarans were barreling back and forth on the other side of the open doorway, and not paying attention to them, just giving their usual bluster and fussing with procedures and protocols as they went about their business of causing trouble. His fingertips finally got inside the little man's coat pocket. As usual, there were all sorts of things in there, and he couldn't hope to identify half of them.

"Got it!" Jamie panted. At least, he hoped so. He tweezered the thing with his fingertips and managed to get it out of the Doctor's pocket on the third try.

"Well done, Jamie!" The Doctor praised—just as the ship shuddered. The box fell to the floor and the lights went out.

"What be THAT?" Jamie exclaimed over a sudden stew of klaxons, complaining navigational equipment, and the roar of angry Sontarans. The only illumination came from the mixture of secondary lights and knobs and low-power illums. Something backfired in the databanks, and the most obnoxious excuse for music the Piper had ever heard blared through the air.

"Great Jumping Gobstoppers." The Doctor gopped. "The Time Lords are rescuing us?"

"That's daft!" Jamie protested. "Why would they rescue us? It's not as thoo they need our charmin' personalities aroond 'em!"

"So I'm told every day I'm hauled before the carpet in the Citadel." The Doctor scowled. "Well, it's a good distraction. Let's get out of here." They scuttled around for a minute until they found the meter. "If this is Dalek built, it operates on static."

"Eh? Oh, aye!" Jamie grinned. "Sae a jolt could pick the lock?"

"Confuse its energetic seal, more like. The meter is designed to pick up all energy, so let's see if the reading off the meter can fool this stupid lock..." The Doctor found the metal plate with his thumb and switched it on. It cheeped and he tapped it with his manacle. They held their breaths; the manacles fell apart. "Success!" He did the same thing to Jamie's chains and the binding chain about him. Then as they struggled to their feet, he stuffed one of the manacles in his pockets. "Might need that later," he muttered.

"If ye say soo." Jamie said dubiously. He had pulled out his Dirk and was testing the glasstic walls.

"No use getting out that way, Jamie." The Doctor told him—well tried to over the horrid noise. "The base that's holding the tube is larger than the tube...rather like a cup-holder. When they want someone to get in or out they lower the base."

"Sae how do we get out?"

"Improvise." The Doctor said thoughtfully. "You know, I don't think this was designed for more than one person anyway..."

"It holds two as easily as one." So long as they stayed friendly and weren't claustrophobic.

"Yes, but it isn't designed for more than one captive...that means there must be a basic flaw..."

Jamie shrugged and felt about the bottom with his hands and dirk. "Doctor! There's noo real bottom tae this tube. Just the base."

"Well there's a top if not a bottom!" The Doctor grumbled. "It's—Oh! Jamie! I have it!"

"Wha?"

"If I can get my hands to the top, we might be able to push the tube off the base! And we'd best hurry—If the power on the ship is this low the computer will consider feeding air to prisoners a very low priority indeed!"

Jamie dropped to his knees. "Jump on, then." The Doctor did so, sitting on Jamie's shoulders. The Piper stood up easily in the heavier gravity despite the little fellow's weight. He watched the glimpses of murky chaos racketing in the hallway.

Then he almost staggered at the sudden addition of weight on his shoulders, all the way down his spine. The Doctor was pushing with all his strength straight up. Jamie couldn't begin to guess how heavy the tube was, but it was too heavy for him. It wasn't the first time he'd seen the funny little man show how strong he was—but he only did it when he had no choice.

In the gravity of the Sontaran ship, Jamie felt his face break into cold sweat. It was hard to breathe. Slowly, carefully, the heavy tube began to rise up.

"Uffda!" The Doctor grunted and twisted a bit, propping one edge of the tube on the top of the base. "That should do it—don't touch the sides of the tube whatever you do, Jamie. We have to do this together." Jamie thankfully sank back down and helped the little man to his feet. It was awkward to do this without touching, the space was so rare. "Now, when I say ready, we throw ourselves off. The Sontarans won't expect a giant tube of tempered glasstic coming at them!"

"Silly Sontarans. That's the first thing I'd be lookin' oot for!" Jamie said sarcastically.

"Ready!"

They jumped, slamming their bodies into the heavy wall. The tube wobbled a moment, then pitched over on its side with a terrific crash. In the dark it was doubtful the Sontarans could see much, but they hit at least two of them as the tube rolled upon the floor.

They backed out of the tube as quickly as they could; Jamie picked up the binding chain as a potential weapon and the Doctor grabbed his hand. "Follow me!" He cried, and something in the nearest wall burst into smoke and flame.


The Doctor's undisciplined mind had reluctantly been forced to conform to a few rules after meeting Zoe—she was not only a genius on his level, she was also a genius on a level he couldn't attain: rigid, boring and overconfident logic. His quicksilver thoughts were a mental extension of his body: both bounced about like a rubber balls, throwing things up in the air and making a decision on whatever came down, in whatever pattern. Less planning and more I Ching, the Doctor's mind was always struggling to lower itself to the earth.

Zoe might not have been a Time Lord, but she was a calculating genius. She had shown him tricks to think of things in a way that made a game of discipline. She had reasoned it could only improve their odds for survival, especially if she wasn't around.

The Doctor was using one of her tricks right now to plot their retreat as far away from the Sontaran's Bridge area as possible. Sontaran ships are built like giant balls, but they are not symmetrical on the inside, or even radial. They are honeycombed like a hive. He didn't want them around the Bridge, and he really didn't want them to head up in the Docking Port where they'd entered; it would be a military nightmare with all available fighters guarding it from invasion.

"There we are!" He exclaimed. They stopped, panting in the darkness. It was just barely light enough that they could make out each other's outlines. "Some sort of storeroom."

"Noo what?" Jamie breathed.

"We get out of here."

The Doctor fished in his sleeve and yanked out the SRD. With a sharp intake of breath he closed his eyes and concentrated, signaling without focusing with a whistle. Jamie held his breath and a familiar wheezing, grinding noise of a very old-fashioned TARDIS materialized into the far side of the storeroom.

"Noo if that isn't a sight fer sore eyes!" Jamie cheered.

"Come on!" The Doctor exclaimed. "We've got to get to the TARDIS before the Sontarans do!"

They took off running, as chaos erupted behind them in every imaginable size, shape and form.

"They canna get in can they?" Jamie gasped.

"I left the HADS on! If those brutes so much as frown at it, it'll materialize halfway up a wall or something worse!"

Jamie groaned.

They ran inside the TARDIS, full-tilt, the Console breaking their momentum quite painfully. The Doctor slammed the doors shut and they paused to take one deep breath before he slapped the Controls.

"Right!" The TARDIS took off with a haste that was probably discretion on the Timeship's part. "We're in the Vortex now! Back to the Station! Unless there's something you want to do on the way over?"

Jamie had found the screen. "Ahhh!" He gulped. "Doctor! That's the Martian Fleet chasin' aboot the Sontaran ship!"

"Good Lord, so it is. I think you made a friend, Jamie." They stared for a moment at the spectacle of a large Sontaran ship getting itself harried but the slender and needle-sharp Martian Warcraft. "Goodness me, they've developed a quantum drive! Oh, that must gall the Sontarans!" The Doctor laughed out loud.

"A Qu-" Jamie remembered something from Zoe's teachings. "ye mean the Sontaran ship doesn't have enough power to disintegrate even one of their craft!"

"Marvelous!" The Doctor rocked on the balls of his feet in delight. Jamie hadn't seen him this happy in ages. He was positively childlike in his glee, which hadn't happened it...oh. Far too long. "It's a nest of hornets against a bull! As soon as they lock on a target, the Martians pick it up and throw it back!" He slapped his hands together in a clapping salute to Axor, and turned back to the controls. "Right...I wonder what the Martian frequencies are? Should let them know we're out here..."

Jamie had found something odd on the readings. He tapped open the link between the readings and the scanner. The Screen lit up again. The Piper blanched. Far down the Vortex he could see a too-familiar collection of silver octahedrons. "Doctor!" He screamed. "Look at tha' size o'that thing!"

"Eh?" The Doctor looked up. "Oh, my word! That is a big one, Jamie..! There must be forty attack ships!" He stabbed some buttons and looked down. "Eighty-seven." He said flatly. "They've got backup behind the moon-cluster on the other side of the Vortex. Well this is a pickle." A new thought darkened his already dark glower. "Magnetic storm," he growled. "They must have been hiding in the Vortex for weeks—the energy particulates must have been building up the radiation and elevating the-"

"A pickle? Gettin' shipped to their Arena is a pickle, Doctor! THAT," Jamie stabbed the screen with his finger, "That is a helligan! That's too much for the Ice Warriors! They'll be run over like children before a train! We've got tae save them!"

"Just a moment, Jamie—the Sontarans can't reveal their invasion just yet—the Martians are safe enough until-Bother! They're going to attack Xenobia!" The little man fretted.

"Can the Time Lords protect the Station?"

"It would be completely irresponsible of us to take the chance on believing that! Xenobia is linked to the Matrix!" The little man clutched his hands and rubbed them nervously. "The Sontarans got through once already; that means they have some knowledge of our transduction barrier systems. And without knowing what they know..." He spat in Old High Gallifreyan, which Jamie unfortunately understood. With a sharp tug he popped open the Console. "Right, Jamie...keep an eye on the TARDIS while I open the telepathic circuits. Wouldn't hurt to give the Time Lords a warning this mess is coming right at them!"

Jamie sighed and took his usual spot next to the Doctor. "Be careful!" He scolded. "Ye remember what happened th' last time ye sent yer thoughts to another Time Lord!"

"The Clockmaker doesn't count. He was completely bonkers." The Doctor said absently, closing his eyes even as he dismissed one of the more hellish episodes of his and Jamie's lives. The Piper didn't fault him; the Doctor was a clever man, but when it came to his personal pain, he couldn't think of more than one event at a time. He understood that he had to set that aside for the present.

"Maintain position but be ready. We may have to jump into N-space without warning. The self-defense mechanisms should hold us safe for now..." His voice slipped off the further he talked, until he quit altogether and closed his eyes. It was always a little eerie to watch the Doctor send out his thoughts. He would go from being an animated little fellow boiling with energy like soup in a cauldron, to a zoned out sleepwalker. He was not only still, he was incredibly vulnerable and it scared the Piper to see the Doctor vulnerable.


Thank goodness, only a few seconds passed. Without warning the little man sucked in his breath, eyes snapping open, color rushing back to his cheeks. "Right!" He ran his fingers through his silver hair before snapping the Console shut. "Good enough! I found a Transduction Barrier Technician on duty at the Citadel. She'll warn the Ice Warriors as well as our people. She'll transmat to Xenobia if she has to. Now we need to get cracking on holding off the Sontarans."

"Oh, of course." Jamie rolled his eyes and pretended the edge of panic in the Doctor's green eyes wasn't scaring him gormless. As usual, the wee chappie's mental talking had given him an insight and he was trying not to be scared silly by it. "Simple. How?"

"They're hiding in the Vortex. I want them out." The Doctor's face changed to a dark, utterly serious expression. "This much activity can only stress the Continuum and pull in the interest of a lot of very unpleasant things. Getting them out of the Vortex is the best way of preventing a Chronovore or—Karn forbid-Voritvore infestation!" He moved across the Console, activating one program to another.

"How are we gunna draw 'em out?" Jamie clutched the Console for emotional strength.

"Every ship going through the Vortex needs a Vortex Magnetron to come out on the other side. The Sontarans must have more of Daleknology than metals. They've gotten their hands on a Dalek Vortex Magnetron as well!"

"Och how much worse is this gunna get?" Jamie groaned.

"Cheer up, Jamie. If I'm right, I can jump their Magnetron as soon as I find it." He frowned at an annoying reading and flipped several switches according to a logic code. "Daleks are a terribly inventive species, in a boringly regimented and bloodthirsty sort of way, but they keep to a very dull rule."

"Which is?"

"Don't fix what's not broken." The Doctor grinned so broadly the Piper could see the black tooth that normally rested hidden in the bottom centre of his mouth. He wasn't a vain man-he couldn't dress like a vagabound homeless Gipsy if he were-but he tended to be sensitive about that tooth, feeling it was solid proof that the regeneration that created him had been flawed. If there was one thing in which his Doctor was eternally fragile, it was the secret belief that he was the second-best as well as the second-born.

"Dull indeed." Jamie agreed, deadpan, If the Doctor had forgotten to care about that tooth, that meant he was in a moment of pure confidence. They were rare. Time to listen to them...time to go.