Core Issues

The Judoon's headquarters were located in the Inner Core as part of the settlement's administration. Quite ironically opposed to their imposing, tower-like spaceships, this building had more of a clean, metropolitan feel to it, the Doctor felt. White walls, curved corners and plenty of big glass windows to see out of. A building that said 'we're here to help' rather than 'we're always watching.' Credit where credit was due, he thought.

Even the interior was so oddly mundane, so much like any other police office, the presence of massive rhino aliens made the contrast all the more bizarre. Judoon sitting in cubicles, talking and laughing jovially with one another, arguing about misplaced files. They were working alongside a small number of the albino humanoids who ruled the Shadow Proclamation, known only as the Architects, though they seemed in the minority compared to the Judoon.

The Doctor took some comfort that there was at least some sort of organisation among the Judoon, even if it was only relegated to admin. Martha seemed to be silently of the same opinion, though she regarded the Judoon warily. Clare was keeping up her habit of staring openly at everything that caught her attention while Sec was eager to get down to business.

"Where is the body being brought?" Sec asked when they entered the main lobby.

"We have a morgue downstairs," replied the Commander. "Do you wish to be there for the autopsy?"

"If I may. I feel it better to divide our attention across key points. You and Martha can garner more details from the previous incidents while Claraesia and I can gather what information we can first hand from the latest one," he reasoned.

"Ooh, someone's using ze little grey cells," remarked the Doctor.

"Yeah, maybe you should have worn your hat for this," teased Martha.

"Perhaps a matching trench coat?" returned Sec with a smirk.

"Returning to relevant matters, I agree, Doctor." The Commander gestured to an officer. "Take these two to the morgue. Tell Doctor Kalara they have my authority to be present for the autopsy."

The officer nodded and motioned for Sec and Clare to follow. The former nodded and set off while the latter gave the Doctor and Martha a little wave before following suit.

"You think she'll be alright in an autopsy?" murmured Martha.

"I think we can trust Sec to make sure she conducts herself properly," he replied quietly. "Besides, if she's like other Angels she's practically from the dawn of time. I think she's seen worse."

The Commander, who's name the Doctor learned on the way over was Telron, addressed him while they made their way through between the cubicle walls, Judoon standing aside to let him pass.

"We will talk in my office Doctor, while we await the coroner's report on the victim. How much do you know of the case?"

"Only what I've seen so far, I'm afraid," he replied.

Telron rumbled. "They sent special operatives with no briefing on what would be required of them?"

"Ah well, you know how it is. The higher ups and all that, they just send me where I'm needed with barely a farewell or tip of the hat. You know, I was in the middle of my breakfast when they told me to ship myself off here. Utterly outrageous! I know crime never sleeps but you think it'd at least stop for a little snack break," the Doctor complained.

"Justice should be swift," Telron dismissed.

"But it should not go hungry," A Judoon marching behind them spoke up. With less of a guttural voice, he sounded younger than Telron. "Shall I send for some refreshment?"

The Commander rounded on the trooper who took a couple of steps back. "I did not ask for your input, Dahko."

"Sir, the Doctor said he is hungry. I only meant to -"

"Ah, don't worry, he's alright," stepped in the Doctor. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'll grab myself something later. Though if you could whip up a cup of tea, that would go down a treat." Dahko gave only blank silence as a response. "Really? No tea? Maybe some coffee, doughnuts?" Another blank silence. "Blimey, how do you lot make it through the day?"

"This is wasting time. We must return to more pressing matters. Dahko, fetch the case files and bring them to my office," the captain ordered.

Dahko, his face masked by his helmet, shifted slightly. "With respect, Commander, surely one of the clerks is best suited to-"

"Did I ask your opinion, private?" he rumbled dangerously. "I gave you an order. Carry it out."

For a moment, it seemed like he wouldn't obey but he stalked away, clearly unhappy.

"Apologies for his behaviour," Telron said, resuming their march. "He is fresh from training, still young."

The Doctor shrugged. "We all were once. I've done worse in my time."

"Then you understand such behaviour must be ironed out with proper discipline," argued Telron.

They entered his office, a larger space with a window overlooking the other buildings that comprised the Inner Core and sat down opposite him. Moments later, Dahko returned with the files as well as drinks of water for the Doctor and Martha. He gave him a grateful smile, while Martha's came off as rather forced. This didn't escape the Commander's notice.

"Your associate appears tense, Doctor," he noted.

"I'm alright," she said quickly. "Just um… what happened to that person is, well, pretty bad. Just a lot to process."

It wasn't the best lie, the Doctor thought but Telron accepted it. "Hmm. Yes, that is true. It was merely an observation. Then the sooner we track down those responsible, the better. Dahko, leave us."

The younger Judoon appeared to watch Martha for a few moments, then obeyed his superior and left.

"I shall elaborate what I can before you review the case files. In the past three months, seven, now eight different persons have gone missing. Within a few days, they are found dead in a… state similar to what you have witnessed. Mutilated beyond almost any original recognition."

Flicking through the file, the Doctor could certainly see what he meant. He'd seen his fair share of atrocities in his travels but even he had to work to keep his eye focused on the gruesome holo-images before him. An Ood with its facial tentacles completely removed and its eyes repositioned. An Abzorbaloff that looked like it had been slimmed down to almost the bone. There was even a human in there. Her hair was gone, her eye position altered, even her arms and legs had been forcibly lengthened.

He could only imagine the kind of agony these beings must have endured. At the very least when the Cybermen converted people, they stopped them from feeling pain. The looks on these people's faces suggested agony and torment right to the end. Whoever was doing this had to be stopped, though the Doctor was almost afraid to discover why anyone would do this.

"Any kind of connection between the victims?" asked the Doctor.

He shook his massive head. "None from what we can determine. All different species, different backgrounds, with no obvious link as to why anyone should want them dead."

"Any suspects?"

"Due to the nature of their deaths, we are driven to believe that this is most likely something territorial. A message from a criminal group to others that any threats made by them must be taken seriously. As such, our attention has been focused on one specific faction. What do you know of the family Slitheen?" asked Telron.

"Plenty. Criminal sect from the planet Raxacoricofallapatorius," he explained for Martha's benefit. "I've come across them a few times in the past and their intentions have always been less than peaceful."

"Indeed. Several members of the family are situated in the Mantle. They own a club and have been the subject of many investigations." He growled angrily. "We have never been able to directly link them to anything but it is very likely they are behind what is happening."

"Why? Are they known to do stuff like this to people?" asked Martha.

"It is well documented that members of the family are trained in the ways of the hunt. They take great pleasure in it. Furthermore, they are criminals. There is nothing that they are not capable of," he said firmly.

"If you say so," she murmured quietly.

He rumbled again. "You have a different idea?"

"Well… no," she admitted. "I just don't think we should be focusing on one possible group against the chance of it being another."

The Doctor wondered if that might have put Martha in the Commander's bad books. The Judoon were a race who were often set in their ways and didn't take kindly to new ideas. He was about to speak up when Telron replied in a rather amicable tone, even if it seemed rather forced. Probably because he didn't want things to reflect badly on him in the eyes of the two 'special operatives' before him.

"That is… a valid perspective. However, they are still considered the primary suspects. I suggest you begin your investigation at their club. It is named Alkero for the owner. Speak with her or any of her family members and see what you can learn. Perhaps… you will discover something we have not," he added, again with unease.

"We'll take that to heart. Come on then, Martha. Let's get going," said the Doctor, handing the file back. "I promise you, we will find whoever is responsible."

"Yes, I believe you will," Telron said confidently.

They left the office and were about to rendezvous with Sec and Clare when someone else got their attention.

"Miss Jones?" They turned to see Dahko had been waiting outside for them. "Is anything the matter? Your demeanour has been uneasy since you entered the station."

"Me? No, I'm fine," she lied, forcing another smile.

He was quiet for a moment. "It seems you are especially uneasy when regarding or in close vicinity with any of my fellow officers. Right now, your pupils are dilated and your body language indicates closing yourself off from your surroundings. You fold your arms close to your chest and pay closer attention to the floor. Judoon make you uneasy."

Both the Doctor and Martha stared in amazement at his deduction. As two people who knew the Judoon to be largely, well, thick, this came across as rather surprising. Dahko noted their reaction.

"Does it surprise you to see a Judoon use his head in a manner that doesn't involve his horns?" He made an odd rumbling noise which they recognised after a moment to be laughter. "It's something the others have noted about me too. They call me the Thinker when they assume I cannot hear them."

"Well, I'd keep it that way if I were you. The Judoon could use more thinkers," said the Doctor encouragingly. "And as for Martha, she's had experience with Judoon officers before becoming an operative."

"I see. I gather it was not a pleasant one," Dahko inquired. Martha began to speak, but hesitated. "You may speak freely, Miss Jones. After all, you are technically my superior given your status."

Martha was quiet for a bit, then said, "Considering that you lot abducted the hospital I worked at and left everyone to suffocate when you were done, I'd say not the best, yeah."

"I see," murmured Dahko. "I recognise that Judoon methods can be quite… heavy handed. But I assure you, our intention is only ever to deliver justice. Regardless, I am sorry for whatever damage we have caused, intentional or otherwise."

"I… appreciate that," she said. "Thanks."

"Of course." He paused. "I realise it may not be my place, but may I offer some advice for your investigation?"

"We'd be happy to have some advice from the Thinker," replied the Doctor brightly.

Dahko laughed appreciatively. "I am aware the Commander has directed you to the club. He is practically convinced that the Slitheen are behind what's happening. While I acknowledge that they are involved in many things we cannot find proof for, I think otherwise in this case. However, they are involved in many dealings with other clients. Some legitimate, some less so. When you get to the club, I suggest that is where you focus your search. I only hope that-"

"Dahko! You are needed!" another officer barked.

"Sorry, I must go. Success to your investigation Doctor, Martha." With that, he spun on his heel and marched away.

The Doctor and Martha exchanged a glance that reflected their shared feelings about Dahko's conduct before setting off in the direction of the morgue. They arrived to find Sec and Clare stood over the body of the latest victim on a slab. They were accompanied by an Architect dressed in a white coat with an irritated look on her face.

"Oh marvellous, more visitors. I didn't realise this morgue was a bloody walk-in now," she complained. "It's not like I have important work to do or anything of the sort."

She stalked off, leaving the four of them with the corpse.

"Dr. Kalara and yes, that seems to be how she normally is," Sec answered their unspoken question.

"I didn't say anything," said the Doctor innocently.

"No, but your thoughts on the matter were more than evident," countered Sec. He gestured to the body. "This latest one was a Bane, though you would not think it to immediately look at it. No recorded name or alias, but that is typical for their kind. Likelihood is that this one was involved in scouting for its Mother."

The Doctor had to agree there. He knew the Bane as big and green, with multiple tentacles and a singular eye at the centre of their heads. The skin membrane on this one was very pale, a number of the tentacles had been removed to leave only four of the usual six and all the ones around the mouth were removed. In addition, the eye had been divided down the middle and separated. Like someone had tried to give it two eyes and failed horribly.

'The poor thing,' signed Clare, gazing forlornly at it. 'It must have been terrified.'

"Why would anyone do something like this? What's the point?" asked Martha.

"That's what we're going to find out. Martha, you and I are gonna go take a look at this club, see what we can learn from the Slitheen," said the Doctor.

"You believe they might be behind this?" asked Sec.

"They could be. They've done significant alterations to other species before. When I first met them, they stuck machinery in the head of a pig to make it seem like it was an alien pilot."

"With that and the Pig Slaves, I wonder if aliens don't just have some kind of grudge against pigs," remarked Martha.

The Doctor frowned. "Hmm, never thought about that. Though if you're talking about beings with grudges against farm animals, you wouldn't want to know what this one lot did with cows in the 1950s. That really was…" He trailed off. "Sorry, getting off topic. Anyway, it's not entirely impossible they might have done something like this, if they had a purpose in doing it," argued the Doctor.

Sec nodded. "Well reasoned. What of us?"

"You two, ask around. See what you can learn about the other victims. Get their details from the Judoon and see what you can come up with. If we can find out more about them, it might help us figure out why they were targeted and by whom."

"So… it is time to split up and look for clues?" inquired Sec with a small smile.

"And with that, we're leaving," said Martha, dragging the Doctor away before it got any worse.

It was pretty easy to find Club Alkero when they asked around. Almost everyone seemed to know where to find it, with the line moving down a darkened alleyway, lit up by a neon sign directing them to come in. The Doctor breezed easily past the disgruntled aliens who complained as he sauntered by, while Martha tried smiling apologetically before resorting to keeping her head down.

"Hello!" said the Doctor cheerily, flashing the psychic paper to the bouncer. "Two guests for the VIP section, if you would."

There was a few moments of silence before a deep voice said, "Go."

"Cheers! Come on, Martha. I'll get you a cosmopolitan," he offered with a cheeky grin.

Martha watched the bouncers warily. They were big, muscled beings with scraggly orange hair, dark skin and faces like Neanderthals. In fact, their whole appearance made her think of gorillas except their eyes held none of the supposed basic intelligence that documentaries liked to gush about. These eyes were dull, like they barely comprehended her presence.

"Ogrons," the Doctor whispered to her. "A lot of species use them as hired muscle. Like the Judoon but without the sense of justice… or much sense of anything, for that matter."

"So… thick as a brick?" she clarified.

"Yeah, pretty much," he nodded as they stepped into the main body of the club.

"How comes you didn't say we were investigators?" asked Martha. "Come to think of it, why not ask the Judoon for help here?"

"You remember what happened last time. Last thing we need is a Judoon platoon tearing a place up again. Besides, in situations like this, it's better to go in low key," he added with a wink.

Even though it was an alien one, the club reminded Martha very much of some of the ones she'd frequented as a student in London: packed, bustling with the main lights dimmed down to allow the lights of the dance floor to shine more prominently. That and it was packed full of people, even a few humans all dancing to the music or getting drinks or copulating in some of the darker corners.

It was amazing how much didn't change, even so far out and so far forward. She and the Doctor threaded their way through the crowd. With the Doctor leading the way, she could tell he was leading her to the bar.

"I thought you were just joking about the drink!" she yelled over the noise.

"It's a bit of a cliché but it's one of the best: if you want some information, talk to the bartender, especially since he's one of the family!" replied the Doctor.

He indicated the alien making the drinks. When Martha had been told that the Slitheen were a crime family, she had been expecting something scaley with beady eyes and rows of sharp teeth. She didn't expect something so… well, cute. Big round black eyes, with a rounded baby-like face and a pot belly, only just taller than Martha was. Long claws emerged from a three fingered hand that moved quite deftly with the many different sized glasses and drinks.

"Fierce crime family, are they?" she asked when the Doctor stopped to regard him.

He frowned. "He looks like he's a bit of a runt. They're usually a lot bigger and his claws are smaller too. Still, might mean he's more amicable."

That prediction seemed right, as the first thing he did when they reached the bar was give them a big grin, showing off sharp but tiny teeth.

"Good evening, sir and madam!" His voice sounded like he was gargling water, but it was friendly. "And what can I get you?"

"Hello there! Are you one of the owners of this fine establishment then?" asked the Doctor.

"Absolutely, sir! Well, not really, my sister runs the show. I just serve the drinks," he added sheepishly. "But I do it well!"

"Oh, I'm sure you do which is a good thing because, well…" He fished out the psychic paper and showed it to him. "It might help stand you in good stead."

The Slitheen almost dropped the glass he was holding. "Oh! I… I had no idea you were… I-I didn't know you would be…!"

"Yeah, well, we prefer to go in low profile." He quickly showed it to Martha which told her she and the Doctor were researchers for a galactic travel column. "But we just saw you and we both thought 'now, this looks like a man worth approaching. There's the guy we should be talking to.'"

"I… I don't know. I should probably get my sister, she actually owns the… I'm just the…"

"Your sister?" The Doctor made a face. "That'd be alright if you did, but I think we would really benefit from talking to you. Isn't that right, Martha?"

"Um. Oh yeah!" she agreed. "I mean you're uh… the real face of the club, who's right there in the thick of it with the patrons. Yours is the perspective we want."

"Wow…" His eyes seemed to shine. "Okay then! You there, take over!" he called to one of the other bartenders and waddled out to join them. "Blom's the name! Blom Krog Nor Pasameer-Night Slitheen!"

"Hello! I'm the Doctor and this is Martha. We'd be very grateful if you could give us a look round this place, answer some questions for us."

"Of course! What would you like to know?" he asked eagerly.

"Whatever you can tell us," replied the Doctor slyly, with an approving look at Martha.

As Blom led them around the club, proudly showing off their many features, Martha began to realise the Doctor's intentions here. They could have claimed to be Shadow Proclamation operatives, but if the Slitheen operated outside the law, they would be less willing to open up to people like that. This disguise was the perfect way to get them in behind the scenes.

It was when Blom was talking about their state of the art sound systems modified to be pleasing to the ear of any species that the Doctor moved to take advantage of that particular aspect.

"Very good, you clearly know your way around, don't you?" he complimented which made Blom beam proudly. "I'll tell you where I wouldn't mind having a little look and that's where you keep your records."

"Really?" He frowned at him. "Isn't that rather boring for readers?"

Martha stepped in. "It'd just be a little bit of the piece. A glimpse into the inner workings of Club Alkero, what keeps the wheels turning."

"Um… okay then!" he said brightly. "This way then."

He directed them through a door guarded by an Ogron who gave the three of them a wary glare as they past. They entered a rather drab looking corridor in which the music of the club was muffled but still present.

"This is pretty much it. There's a few store rooms here, our records are in that room there but it really isn't very interesting," he said quickly. "I'm sure you'd prefer to see more things out there than in here."

"Yeah, you're probably… ooh!" The Doctor clutched his stomach and groaned. "Ow, ow, that doesn't feel good. There isn't a toilet back here, is there Blom?"

"Um, just down there but-"

"Great, thanks! Keep his attention. I'm gonna have a little look at their records," whispered the Doctor, then louder. "Okay, I'll be right back!"

Blom raised a claw. "I really think that-"

"Hey Blom, come on," said Martha, turning his attention away from the Doctor and more importantly, the records room. "Just a bit of dodgy food that's all but you know how bad it can get. He'll only need a few minutes."

Glancing over his shoulder, she saw the Doctor slip into the records room and out of sight. Blom started to follow her gaze but she pulled his attention back.

"Hey so um, I hear there are some pretty nasty rumours about your family. That you're… criminals. It's not true, is it?"

At this, Blom's face fell. "Well… maybe it is. Just a little bit. I mean, it's really not as bad as they make it out to be. We're just trying to earn ourselves a living. It's a harsh galaxy, you know?"

"Oh yeah, I completely get what you mean," replied Martha. "I mean, you seem like you're a really nice guy, Blom."

That only seemed to make him look worse. "That's nice you think so. My sister says I'm just being pathetic."

"You're not pathetic."

"I am though! I've never been very strong or fast, even my sense of smell isn't that great. The only reason I got my first kill at eighteen was that I accidentally squished it." He sighed. "The only reason my sister keeps me around is because she needs someone to serve the drinks and to yell at when she's mad. Which is often."

Martha nodded. "I know the feeling. Famailies can be a bit mental, eh?"

"They can." He froze. "Please don't tell her I said that!"

"I won't say anything, don't worry. Hey, but you said you do pretty good at what you do anyway, right?" she said encouragingly. "You know just as much about this club as she does, inside and out. We're definitely going to be giving you a good mention in our article."

His face lit up. "You really mean it?"

"Yep, we will," said Martha, feeling guilty about having to lie to him.

"Thank you so much. I hope the Doctor gets back soon, I really shouldn't have you back here for too long," he said worriedly.

"Here I am!" The Doctor came sauntering towards them.

"Feeling better, Doctor?" asked Blom.

"Much. Sorry, knew I shouldn't have had those purple pajatoes."

"Oh yes, you'll want to stay away from those," said Blom sagely. "Okay, what else did you want to see?"

"What do we have here then?" a cold voice said.

They turned to see a much larger Slitheen, flanked by two Ogron guards who seemed even bigger and stupider looking than the others. Their boss, for she certainly had that air, carried herself with confidence and purpose. With her easily reaching over seven feet in height, much larger claws and colder eyes, this Slitheen had less of the friendly adorableness of Blom and more like someone who might actually try and eat them.

"Alkero! Hello sis- I mean, boss!" he corrected hurriedly. "I was just showing these two good people around our establishment!" He leaned in to whisper loudly. "They're from a magazine column, they're doing a review!"

"Yep!" The Doctor flashed her his psychic paper. "A very quaint little establishment, I have to say. Mind you, could do with maybe a few potted plants. You know, add some green to the place, give it more of a natural feel."

"Hmm." She stared at the paper for a while, then at the Doctor when he put it away. "Journalists, you say. And here I thought I knew all of the local press."

The Doctor faltered. "Ah. Yes, um…"

"Well, we're sort of from a bit further out," chimed in Martha, giving a big smile. "Passing through, compiling a collection of galactic venues to put in our next piece. Your place has quite a reputation so it was only natural we come and take a look."

"Is that so?" Martha could feel Alkero studying her intently, the same way a predator would size up their prey. "I think you had better come with me then. We'll talk in my office."

She led the way, the two Ogrons falling in behind them. They gave them both a rough nudge and grunted that they should follow. With an uneasy feeling in her stomach, Martha did so. The Doctor kept up his usual nonchalant attitude, hands in pockets and smiling easily but every now and again he gave Martha a quick look that said 'don't worry, we'll be okay.' She hoped they would be.

Alkero's office was higher up and a window overlooked the crowded dance floor below. Her own private view of the little kingdom she'd established. She even had her own private bar and some expensive looking furnishings including plush chairs and a polished wooden desk, no doubt for when she entertained any lucrative clients she might have.

The Ogrons took up positions by the door while Blom made for the bar. He froze when Alkero gave him a look and he shied away into the corner. She indicated the chairs in front of her desk, which the Doctor planted himself in, followed reluctantly by Martha.

"Oh, well this is certainly the VIP treatment." He gave his chair some experimental bounces. "I've always said it's important to have comfy chairs. Thumbs up to your interior decorator, absolutely fantastic job. What wood is that desk made from? From the forests of Cheem if I'm not mistaken? Not sure if Jabe and her mates would approve but they won't be coming around for a good few billion years yet so you're fine for now. Still, keep this up and you're well on your way to a five star rating."

"You can drop the act now, Doctor," she said harshly. "Neither of you are journalists, any more than Blom here is above average intelligence."

"Hey! Don't call me stupid!" he protested, then whispered to Martha. "Is she calling me stupid? I think she is."

"Don't answer him," Alkero snapped. "You don't smell right to be journalists for one thing. And do you think you're the first to try psychic trickery on me? I had an Ood in here once who tried to make me forget I was angry with him by singing one of his little songs in my head and… well, let's just say it wasn't to my tastes. Though he certainly was."

She ran her tongue across her lips and laughed unpleasantly.

"So, if you're not journalists, then you're just a pair of nosey snoopers who have come here and wasted my valuable time."

"Well," the Doctor said awkwardly, "it sounds bad when you say it like that."

"It does. You see, Doctor, I don't like having my time wasted. And if you two really are nothing more than just a pair of snoops…" She raised her claws. Behind them, Martha could see the Ogrons reaching for the guns in their holsters. "Give me one very good reason I shouldn't be sure you don't go snooping ever again."

This wasn't the first time the Doctor had found himself in this kind of situation. Trapped by a less than well-meaning individual with one or more guns pointed at him and about to die. But there was always a way out of these situations, he just had to find it.

The blasters might be vulnerable to sonic interference but any move to get the screwdriver would no doubt prompt them to open fire. No, he would have to resort to his most valuable weapon: his words.

"Right, well, the thing is-"

"Don't bother, Doctor," Martha suddenly said. "There's no point pretending. We have to come clean."

The Doctor vocalised the first word that came to mind. "What?"

"You're right," Martha went on. "We're not journalists, but we are investigators. For the Shadow Proclamation."

"You are, are you?" Alkero tittered. "I'm sorry, but is that supposed to make me change my mind?"

Then it hit the Doctor the brilliance of that admittance.

"It should," he said, taking a few steps forward and looking Alkero right in the eye. "We were directed here by Commander Telron himself. If we come to your club and fail to come back out, even a bunch of thickies like the Judoon are gonna put together what will have happened. You may have managed to slip by them before, but I think even you're gonna have trouble when a Judoon platoon of doom descends on this club, don't you?"

Alkero, for her part, returned the Doctor's gaze unflinchingly. The room was silent, the only sounds being the occasional scraping of her claws. It was Blom who broke it.

"So… does this mean I won't be featured in your article then?"

"Oh, be quiet," hissed Alkero. However, she grinned. "Well, you're certainly a lot smarter than the typical Proclamation investigator. I like when prey has a certain cunning to them. It makes the hunts so much more fun." She tittered again. "I suppose you'll be wanting to bandy about the usual accusation with regards to this latest disappearance."

"Well, I'd thought about it but do you know what? I don't think you lot are behind this," said the Doctor.

Alkero blinked. "Really? That makes a change. Really, Doctor, if you're going to attempt some kind of reverse psychology on me by doing this…"

"Oh no, I really don't think you have anything to do with this." He leaned forward. "You see, I know the Slitheen aren't above a little law breaking and while I do certainly think that you have your fairly sizable fingers in some equally big pies, what's happened to these people? That doesn't seem like something you would do. Even if they were victims of one of your infamous hunts, they wouldn't be mutilated to the extent of what's happened to them. What's been done to them has been done deliberately, with precision and purpose."

Alkero regarded him silently. "You seem rather well informed."

"I'm just noticing what's obvious, like that you're the kind of person who likes to know the goings on around here. If you're not responsible for what's been happening, then I think you've got a pretty good idea of who might be," suggested the Doctor.

"And why do you imagine that is?"

He leaned back in the chair. "I had a little peek through your records before. I checked back to around a period before the first incident was reported and I noticed that you loaned some of your security forces to the Diamond Dust Beauty Parlor. Not really the sort of place I would imagine that would often be interested in hiring Ogron private security."

He fixed the Slitheen with his gaze once more. To her credit, Alkero wasn't one who was easily shaken or impressed for that matter. Someone aloof who wasn't used to being challenged. She nodded slowly, keeping her smile.

"You are a cunning one," she noted. "The transaction you highlighted is indeed an odd one, Doctor. The Glamorian who runs that tawdry parlour came by incognito to make purchase of some muscle." She snorted. "As if it wasn't obvious that it was him, people like him couldn't be incognito if it was in a dark room full of blind men."

"Did he say why?" asked the Doctor.

"Only that it was in the interest of personal security. I didn't pry much further than that. I'm a businesswoman, Doctor. If a customer wants to keep their reasons to themselves, I make sure discretion is the better part of valour."

"Bet that make it easier to do some of your shadier doings then," said Martha icily.

"Everyone loves kronk burgers, but no one wants to know how they're made," she responded coolly. "But I took note of it anyway, as I do with most transactions like this. As you say, Doctor, private security for a beauty parlour? It's like having an anger management session with a Dalek." She laughed and stopped when she was the only one who did, glaring at the Ogron guards and Blom. "That was funny."

Blom immediately giggled wetly and nudged the Ogrons until they caught on, laughing very mechanically and dully.

"I'm not saying that they are the ones responsible but if you were to direct your efforts towards them, you would certainly have my encouragement," she said.

"Why would you care if we do or not?" asked Martha suspiciously.

"I only want to do my part to help see justice done," Alkero replied in a falsely sweet voice. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"I think we'll just take you at your word then." The Doctor stood to leave. "Thanks very much. We'll be sure to follow this up."

"Always happy to help out the Shadow Proclamation," she trilled with a little wave.

The two of them waited until they were safely outside the club before talking.

"Seriously? We're going to be investigating a beauty parlour?" Martha asked.

"Things aren't always how they appear on the surface. Sometimes, you have to scratch the surface to see what lies beneath. Nice work in there, by the way," he added.

She beamed. "Oh thanks. I know you're usually the one to get us out of spots like that but I figured it was my turn."

"You did brilliantly. Now then, fancy seeing what this parlour has in store?" the Doctor said teasingly.

"Sounds great. Maybe we can get Sec some skin creams," she remarked, setting off into the crowds.

"Um, Alkero?" Blom waited for her reply, but she said nothing. "C-Can I ask a stupid question?"

"That in itself was a stupid question. All of your questions are stupid, Blom," she said dismissively. "Your level of intelligence is such that you could stand alongside the Ogrons and we would barely be able to tell the difference."

"H-Hey! There's no need to be mean," he complained.

"I didn't get where I am by being nice. But go on and ask your question then. Maybe I can enlighten you a little," she said in a disinterested way.

"Well just… why did you give them the information about the Glamorians? W-What if they really do find something that could lead back to us?" he asked timidly.

"The only thing that could lead back to us is that we lent them a couple of our Ogrons because they paid for them. There's nothing illegal about that, just business," she answered. "It can be dangerous here, they felt unsafe because of all the nasty business with the disappearances and we gave them some protection."

"B-But you've said yourself that you think th-they're up to something," reminded Blom. "W-What if they are and we get caught up in it? A-Arrested and executed for aiding and abetting?!"

"Oh stop your blubbering! You sound like a hatchling!" she hissed. "Whatever they choose to do with the Ogrons is their business. We don't have anything to do with that." She swivelled her drink in her massive claw. "You see, you fail to notice that this is rather a good thing for us."

"H-How?"

"The way I see it, Blom, one of two possible things can happen. One is that the Doctor finds out what the Glamorians are doing, calls in the Judoon, they get arrested and one of our biggest business competitors in this area is gone. The other is they don't, the Glamorians… silence them and then the Judoon's attention is diverted to them when their operatives are reported missing, especially when we cooperate with them fully and tell them where they went. The Glamorians get rounded up and executed, one of our biggest competitors is again eliminated and the heat is taken off us."

"So… either way, we win?" clarified Blom.

"Remarkable. It seems you actually do have a brain in there."

Blom nodded slowly. "That's… that's really quite clever."

"I know, brother dear." She took a long sip from her drink and grinned. "I know."

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Welp this would have been on time a few minutes ago if I hadn't been busy as fick and having to write this note first. But oh my god.

THANK YOU, ALL OF YOU, FOR HELPING THIS FIC REACH OVER 1,000 VIEWS!

I don't even know if that's a big deal for most fanfics but that is by far the most views anything I've worked on has ever got to. So holy crap thank you from both of us!

Also let it be known that while I love pretty much every character in this, especially our OCs, there are at least two I've been insulting the heck out of so far. Guess who! Both of them are in this chapter XD

This arc has been a particularly fun one for us to plan because of the amount of it that's original, and we really hope you've been enjoying it!

Now you can actually EXPECT next week's chapter to possibly be late, because it's on the last day of a big convention both of us writers are at. Hilariously on that day Alpha's gonna be one of the Doctors and I'll be (pure?) Dalek Sec reimagined as a female Dalek Puppet... because I didn't have the means to make a full casing and why the heck not. So if the chapter's a bit late, apologies! It shouldn't be too delayed though.

Anyways, thanks as usual!