The floor of the vast hanger bay was littered with various tools and discarded bits of space ship as Steven searched frantically for the component he had discarded a few days ago.
"Won't need that." He'd said, throwing it out of the shuttle door. It was only now he realised it was a vital piece of the navigational system. Oh, how he regretted that now. There was no way, he decided, that he was going to find the small part amongst the sea of wreckage he had produced over the last month or so. The Doctor, of course, had chastised him for letting it get that bad, but it hadn't had an impact. The way Steven saw it, he could either spend time keeping the hanger tidy, or get on with the repairs to the shuttle. Besides, the Doctor was a fine one to talk. He'd seen the Doctor conduct repairs to the TARDIS; he wasn't much better.
He hadn't expected it to be an easy job, but on the flip side hadn't expected it to be this difficult either. The Governor really had gone to some extreme lengths to make sure no one could leave, not without some advanced knowledge of space ship repairs, anyway.
It was no good, Steven relented. He wasn't going to find the part he needed any time soon. No, it would be far easier to raid one of the other shuttles. He'd refrained from doing so, where possible, just in case he had to give up on his shuttle and start again on another. Now, however, he was far too impatient to do anything else. He walked across the hanger bay, entering the nearest ship. It still amazed Steven just how effectively the Governor had kept the shuttles hidden for all this time. Desperate measures indeed. He'd tried to keep himself from speculating just what it was all for; what the Governor was willing to sacrifice himself and all those lives for. No, Stevens' job was to repair the ship, having lost focus on his investigation for Tromas' attacker, whilst the Doctor kept searching the mainframe for any information he could muster.
So far, his old friend hadn't gotten very far it seemed. He'd been working on it almost constantly, with little progress. The Doctor had revealed to Steven that he had uncovered recent medical records for the population, but they didn't reveal much. Every file seemed to refer to another which they hadn't yet uncovered.
Stepping in to the cockpit of the ship, which consisted of two seats at the curved end, in front of banks of passenger seats, Steven sensed something wasn't quite right. He stopped in his tracks, trying to work it out.
Then it hit him. The hatch way to this ship wasn't sealed. When they'd first discovered the ships, it had taken the best part of a day to get the hatch way to 'their' ship open. Wanting to focus on repairing it, they hadn't bothered opening to others. After all, what would have been the point? So, he thought, kneeling down to the hatchway in the floor, who had opened this one? He could see scuff marks and dents around the frame where it had been forced open. Tromas maybe? No, he dismissed the thought. He'd have said something.
He looked up, his attention suddenly drawn to a bundle of beige on a nearby seat. He quickly scrambled across, identifying it as a scrunched up jumpsuit, wrapped around something. Something heavy. Carefully, he unfolded the clothing, noticing the crimson splatters on the arm. He discarded the stained clothing on to the floor, staring at what he had uncovered.
A wrench, the same type they had uncovered in the hanger bay stores, coated on one end with dried blood. Tromas' blood, no doubt.
Steven stopped for a moment, dumbfounded as he tried to take this in, work out what it all meant. Then, the words came to him, a summary of his discovery in his head.
Tromas' attacker knew about the hanger bay and the shuttles, and could come and go as they pleased. In that case, Steven though with concern, why hadn't they? Why had they just let him work?
"Oh." He gasped out loud. "Because that's what they wanted." He made towards the hatchway, but stumbled back as the steps shot towards him, folding in to the ship as the hatch slammed shut. "Hey!" He yelled, pounding on the exit to no avail. He reached to his belt, for his communicator, but cursed when he realised it was outside, amongst the mess on the hanger floor.
It seemed that, like the Governor before them, the Doctor and Steven had under-estimated the citizens of Lasel.
XXXX
Aleca sighed as he scrubbed the same section of wall he'd been cleaning for the last month and a half. He was sure the Colony didn't even need as much cleaning anymore, convinced that the Doctor had only maintained the cleaning rota to keep them busy. If it was intended as a distraction, however, it wasn't working. All Aleca had thought about was what the Doctor and Steven could possibly have been doing for all this time.
Since they'd arrived, very little had changed. Yes, they no longer felt like the prisoners they had once been, but, Aleca had realised, that was only because the Doctor had made out this was all for their own good. He had always insisted that, if possible, there would be change, but so far nothing. His regime was almost identical to that of the Governors', but with the face of an old man. Where as the Governor had imposed over them all with authority, the Doctor had done it by misleading them, making out he was weak and frail, doing his best. In reality, Aleca thought, he was still keeping them locked up.
Steven wasn't any better either. He seemed to run around after the old man like a doting grandson, when they saw his anyway. After the first few days, he seemed to vanish for most of the day. The rumours were that he was working on something big; something to get them off of Lasel, but Aleca didn't dare believe that. The biggest frustration however, was that he had to keep all this to himself. In contrast to the time of the revolution, the rest of the Colony seemed quite content.
The arrival of Saria seemed to have invigorated most people; given them hope that there was more to life than what they had seen for the past few years. The extra rations and freedoms the Doctor had granted them just helped their opinion of him. Aleca knew he was the minority now, the voice of descent amongst a sea of content. It was far easier for him to keep quiet.
Not, he insisted to himself, because he was a coward but because it was the right thing to do. Everyone else was happy, for the first time in a long time. What right did he have to stamp on that. No, he had decided. He would keep his thoughts to himself, suffer in silence. That would be his sacrifice, how he would be a hero.
"Aleca!" Troby was shouting, running down the corridor. "Aleca, quickly!"
"What is it Troby?" Aleca asked flatly.
"It's Steven!" The man enthused.
"What about him?" Aleca replied, trying to give them impression he was concerned.
"You know this 'project' everyones' been talking about?"
"Yeah?"
"It's a shuttle!" Troby explained, Aleca's face dropping. "He's found a shuttle, and fixed it!"
"You mean?" Aleca didn't dare ask the full question.
"Yes." Troby nodded frantically. "We can go! He's told me to get everyone together. We're going home!"
XXXX
"She's doing well." Tromas smiled, as he sat on a metal chair in Eevas' quarters, Saria sat on his knee. "And such a pretty little dress too." He looked at the pink spotted out fit she was in, such a contrast to the grey and beige they'd been used to. It was the most colour he'd seen since the Doctors' blue box had appeared.
"The Doctor gave it to her." Eeva explained, lowering her voice. "He's got a wardrobe in that box, you know. He's given her loads of clothes."
"None for us then?" Tromas muttered, looking at his usual blue uniform.
"I did ask." Eeva shrugged. "You know, I don't think he wants to give us too much."
"I know." Tromas answered. "And he's right. Imagine if we were all let loose, if he took all the rules away. You know, I don't think we'd know what to do. It'd be chaos."
"You said 'we'." Eeva pointed out. "Like you're one of us?"
"I am." Tromas shrugged, stroking Sarias' hair. "I always have been. We were all as much prisoners as you were, you know. Just with the illusion of power."
"That's not how it looked." Eeva said, a hint of resentment in her voice.
"Not everything is always exactly as it looks." Tromas explained. "I had no more choice over coming here than you did." He stood up, lifting Saria and handing her back to Eeva. "That's all in the past now though. We're in this together."
"I know." Eeva smiled, taking her daughter.
Suddenly, there was a pounding on the door.
"Eeva!" Malia was shouting from the other side. "Open the door!"
Tromas rushed over, tapping the panel, prompting the door to slide open.
"Eeva!" Malia exclaimed again. "Get your things together! We're going home!"
"What?" Tromas shouted over her. "What do you mean?"
"What do you think I mean?" Malia snapped. "I'm sure you probably knew about it. Steven's found a shuttle.. He's taking us home!"
"No." Tromas shook his head. "Not now, it's not ready."
"Looks like you're not as in with them as you thought." Malia sneered. She looked to Eeva, who was stood still, shocked. "Come on! We all need to be on the Maintenance floor in half an hour!"
Tromas said nothing, darting out of the door as he reached for his communicator.
"Steven?" He asked, waiting for a reply. Nothing.
"Doctor?" Again, there was no response. He silently cursed the Doctor. Having become so engrossed in trying to worm out the secrets held within the data files, he had taken to turning his communicator off, to avoid being disturbed.
Frantic, Tromas darted down the corridor. He knew something was wrong. The Doctor wouldn't have allowed this, not until he knew the truth, and last time he had been to the hanger, the shuttle was no where near ready.
Was it happening again? He asked himself, as he rushed down the corridors. Another revolution? But what price would be paid this time?
XXXX
The Doctor sat in his office, pitch black apart from the light from the various monitors around him. It wasn't good for his eyes, he knew that, but he'd be getting new ones soon anyway, he thought. Besides, the dark helped him concentrate. Each day he'd been getting a little closer to breaking through the various levels of security, stepping closer to the secrets held at the heart of Lasel.
He'd been over personnel files again and again, trying to find some clues. However, the one man who'd have set up passwords and the like didn't have any records at all. All he'd managed to find was an archived image; a farmhouse sitting in the countryside. Strange, he thought, of all the things to keep on a secure computer system.
Then it hit him.
The Doctor turned to another screen one that had been frustrating him for the last month. He was sure this was the access point for the information he needed; the mission briefing, the purpose of Lasel. The logon prompt had been taunting him for weeks on end. He hadn't even entered a password, for the fear that an incorrect attempt may trigger some security measure. He hadn't come this far to wipe out all of the data due to a careless mistake.
Placing his glasses on, he leant to the keyboard attached to the monitor and typed carefully, one letter at a time.
'FARMHOUSE'
He sub-consciously held his breath as he hit the enter key, waiting for a response.
"PASSWORD ACCEPTED"
XXXX
"Steven!" Tromas bellowed as he charged in to the hanger bay, looking around frantically. "Steven?"
"Tromas?" Came the muffled response, the young man following the sound to the nearby shuttle.
"What's going on?"
"Not sure." Steven replied. "But someone else knows about this place, about the ships?"
"What?"
"I found what they used to attack you, hidden in here." He paused "Before they shut me in."
"Hold on." Tromas added, peering at the hatchway. "Look's like it's sealed pretty tight."
"I'd have thought so." Came a voice from behind him. "Used the best tools I could find."
"Troby?" Tromas exclaimed, noting the laser rifle strapped over his shoulder. "What's going on?"
"Oh really." Troby mocked. "And you were meant to be staff? What do you think's going on?"
"The ship's not ready, you know." Tromas shrugged. "So you won't be getting very far."
"Oh, don't try that one." Troby scoffed. "I've been keeping an eye, it's ready enough for us to get home."
"And how do you even expect to survive the flight?" Came Stevens' voice from within the ship-come-prison cell.
"You've not checked the stasis-hold, have you?" Troby smiled, holding up a card key. "Already dealt with. Enough food to last as long as we need. You know, I thought you might have suspected something, Steven. You thought it was just a coincidence I happened to tell you about this hanger as soon as I found out you were a pilot?" He laughed. "I could have done it myself, in time. But then I risked being found out, and," he tapped his head, "I'd be relying on my dodgy memory. No, you were the perfect solution. And now, everyones' on their way down here, for our trip."
"I won't let that happen." Tromas stepped forward. "Not util we know who we are."
"And how do you propose to stop me?" Troby questioned, holding the rifle up.
"The same way you propose to shoot me without a power pack." Tromas smiled, before realising. "Oh."
"Tromas?" Steven shouted, "What's happening?"
"Well, Steven," Troby mocked, "young Tromas here has just realised that if I have his card keys, I also have the power pack for his weapon." He gave a sickly smile, pointing the weapon straight ahead, just as the first few of his fellow citizens started to flow in to the hanger.
"Troby?" Aleca shouted, "What's going on?"
"Get on the ship, Aleca. All of you." He didn't take his eyes from Tromas. "We're going home."
"What are you doing?" Eeva shouted, making sure Saria was facing away from the scene before here.
"Making sure we get what we deserve. Our trip home."
"Not like this." Eeva pleaded. "Tromas is one of us."
"No, he isn't." Troby stated. "He was part of it, he could have changed things."
"I couldn't." Tromas insisted. "It wasn't how you think."
"Oh, do shut up." Troby snarled, turning his head quickly to Aleca, Eeva and the others. "Get on that shuttle, now."
"Come on." Johan agreed, leading a small goup through the entry hatch, followed by more and more. "This is what we've been waiting for after all."
As he turned his head back, Troby saw Tromas darting away from him, towards the rest of the population. Without hesitation, Troby swung his weapon round, firing a single shot.
"Tromas!" Eeva wailed, as the laser bolt struck the young man in the chest, flooring him instantly. She went to run to him, but Malia held her back, guiding her towards the shuttle.
"We need to go." She whispered. "Troby may have lost it, but this might be our only chance." Eeva shook her head.
"No, we can't.
"Think about it." Malia insisted. "Saria can have a life. She can't if we stay here."
Eeva looked to Tromas' body, sprawled on the floor, before turning back to the shuttle, holding Saria tightly.
XXXX
Steven had darted to the communications panel of the shuttle, working quickly. He'd dabbled with communications systems before, and this wasn't too complicated. The channel on the device left in the hanger was open, meaning it was relatively simple to hi-jack the frequency .
"Troby!" Steven shouted in to the comms panel. "What have you done?"
"What I needed to." Trobys' voice came back, from the shuttle he had commandeered. "Tromas should have known better than to get in my way."
"He was trying to help you." Steven shouted. "That's all he ever tried to do."
"By keeping us here? Don't be so stupid."
"He was right though." Steven tried to convince him. "I'm not finished on that shuttle. The navigational systems are shot."
"You can't fool me." Troby snarled. "I've set a course, that's all we need. You really have helped us you know." He mocked. "And yourself. I thought I was going to have to get rid of you today, but it was just our luck you decided to snoop around. I really didn't want to have to kill you."
"Good to know." Steven said sarcastically. "Shame you didn't extend that to Tromas."
"Back to him again?" Troby groaned. "Well, I can't stay and chat. We've got a journey to start."
There was a hiss of static as the line went dead, and Steven kicked the console in frustration.
XXXX
She'd done the right thing, Eeva tried to convince herself as the shuttle started to vibrate, the engines firing up. Troby sat in the right hand seat at the front, Johan next to him. She wasn't sure how much either of them knew about flying, but right now she didn't care. Tromas had died, and she hadn't done anything about it. She'd just gone along with it, with everyone else.
She looked around, to Karie, to Malia, to Aleca and the nintey-oddd others, and wondered if they were all thinking the same thing. Was this the right thing to do? She clasped Saria tightly to her chest, knowing that right or not, it was the only option that gave her and her daughter any kind of future.
It was too late for that question now though, he thought, as the ship started to move and she heard Troby mention opening the hanger doors.
This was it. They were leaving Lasel.
XXXX
"Steven?" The Doctors' voice entered the shuttle, over the comms system. "My boy, what's going on?"
"Doctor!" Steven shouted, relieved. "It's Tromas. Troby killed him."
"The poor boy." The Doctor replied, sadness in his voice. "Why ever did he do that, hm?"
"He knew about the ships." Steven sighed, shaking his head. How had he not seen it. "They've taken one."
"Taken a ship?" There was a sudden urgency in the Doctors' voice. "Steven, have they, have they left the Colony?"
"I don't know." Steven replied. "I'm locked in another shuttle. Hold on." He scanned the control panel quickly, fiding the button to raise the panels which covered the front windows.
"Hurry my boy, hurry. We need to know."
As the shutters opened, Steven caught a glimpse of the shuttle raising from the hanger floor, out of the open hanger bay doors, before they began to close once more.
"They've gone." Steven bit his lip. "I think everyone was on board. Eeva and Saria too."
"No, no, no." Came the Doctors' voice. "This cannot be, my boy. No, not at all."
"What's wrong?" Steven questioned, recognising the Doctors' tone. "What's going on?"
"I've gotten in to the database, yes, the whole database." The Doctor said hesitantly. "I now what this place is, who those people were."
"What?" Steven exclaimed. "Who were they?"
"I'll come and get you." the Doctor said. Yes, I'll come and get you, and explain every thing."
"No, Doctor." Steven insisted. "Tell me. What have you found?"
"Well my boy," The Doctor started, pausing as if it was difficult to get the words out. "Did you notice, hm, how all of their names, yes their names were all very similar to those you would find back on Earth, but altered ever so slightly?"
"I did, yeah." Steven nodded to himself. "Extra vowels here and there, yeah. But what's that got to do with anything."
"And letters substituted for others, yes." The Doctor continued. "And it seems the same was done with the name of the colony. Do you see, hm?"
"Lasel?" Steven questioned, wishing the Doctor would just get to the point. "Laser? Larel?"
"Close my boy, very close indeed." There was silence for a few seconds. "Lazar."
"Lazar?" Steven repeated, the realisation dawning on him. "As in, Lazerus?"
"Yes, yes, regrettably." The Doctor paused. "Lasel is a plague colony."
"And those people?" Steven couldn't bare to say it. "Eeva and the others?"
"Yes, Steven, I'm afraid so. That shuttle, heading to Earth has on board, almost one hundred passengers, all of whom are carriers of the most deadly virus the planet has seen."