Chapter 10: Death Comes At the End

The guards ran through the room, pointing the barrels of their rifles at every corner, shouting back a brief 'clear' every now and then.

Half of them had been tasked with keeping the Doctor down, each of them claiming a limb and pinning it to the ground.

'Keep him down,' the Commander, casually inspecting the computer console for changes. 'If he sneezes, shoot him.'

The Doctor listened to the words, mournfully regretting the inability to blow his nose. Hopefully, his program will have worked. If it hadn't…

'I think we have a problem, sir…' the worker in the corner called, failing to maintain his front of serenity.

Admirably, the Commander resisted the urge to react. He took the news in stride; instead of bawling, he turned around, locking onto his target.

'Elaborate.'

'There seems to be a virus in the system. I'm trying to get it down, but-'

Any semblance of calm was wiped away in an instant. 'What?!' the Commander shouted, snatching the keyboard from the worker. 'He's bugged the system. Shut it down, all of it!'

'But sir!'

'Now!'

Reluctantly, the swarm of workers got to work turning off as many parts as possible. The lights surrounding the room flickered into darkness, with the humming churn dying away as well.

'You fool…' the Commander muttered bitterly to the failure. 'He's left a trap. Do you have any idea what will happen if this spreads to the rest of the ship?'

'Yes – yes sir.'

'Tell me.'

'It will…it will shut down the controls. Eventually, it will reach life support, and we'll…we'll…'

'Die? Yes, quite right. As anyone with half a brain could tell you, most viruses of this type wouldn't act until prompted – they are quite safe until interfered with. Of course, when some damn fool blunders in and sets the whole thing off, it's bound to go wrong, isn't it?'

'Yes, sir.'

'How long until the rendezvous?'

'One and a half time units, sir.'

'And we have no time to send out a communications array. When the rendezvous arrives, the attack will have to be postponed and most probably called out at this stage. Even for a civilisation this primitive, it'd be child-play for them to see a gathering that size.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Unless our technicians can repair the damage in the next time unit, the whole invasion will be over and it shall be entirely your fault.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Any comments?'

'…sorry, sir.'

The Commander pursed his lips. 'There are some spare parts in the aft airlock. Go and fetch them.'

The failure nodded quickly, before exiting the room. A few seconds after, the Commander pulled a second troop closer. 'Follow him,' he said plainly. 'When he goes inside the airlock, shut the doors and eject him.'

A rather brutal smile materialized onto the face opposite. 'Yes, sir.' he nodded gleefully, before stalking out into the corridor.

'About the best I could do, I'm afraid,' the Doctor tutted, patting down his holographic form. 'Pressed for time. Now, I've not got long. This place, it isn't Pease Pottage.'

'Doctor!' Mel shouted, frantically grabbing for his attention. He continued relentlessly, seemingly ignoring her pleas.

'It's a simulation.' he continued without missing a beat. He pondered himself, before shaking his head. 'You'll know what that means. No need for tiresome explanations. This whole place, it's a computer programme. Training, I think. I've shut the software down. If it's worked, then there shouldn't be anything around you.'

'I'm afraid I can't get you out any time soon. There's guards about to break in, you see. But don't worry, I'm on my way.'

The Doctor pressed an invisible button, before vanishing from sight. Mel gasped at first, looking around for his reappearance. 'Doctor!' she shouted, without even the remotest echo. 'Doctor!'

Tentatively, she rose to her feet. Blackness was all around her; despite this, however, she could see every inch of her body perfectly.

She started to run, looking for the nearest wall. After a few minutes of running flat-out, she didn't seem to be any closer.

Reaching down, she took off the left shoe, placing it slowly onto the ground. Not once taking her eyes off it, she backed away. It didn't move. No matter how long or how fast she ran backwards, it stayed exactly at her feet, where she had left it.

She grabbed the shoe from the ground and tossed it over her shoulder. Instead of flying through the air, it moved perhaps three inches, just about missing her face. Once more, it clattered to the ground, staying on the spot.

By rights, it should've moved at least a small amount. But this simply impossible. Despite her best efforts, she wasn't sure if the room was the size of a closet or a warehouse.

In the sea of black, a shape shifted into form. At first, it was elongated, translucent, like a length of flesh stretched out unnaturally. However, it soon snapped together, morphing into an elliptical bullet.

A second and a third also arrived, shooting into their appearance like the first. Completely identical in shape, they silently communicated through the void.

If one was susceptible to transverse waves, they'd be able to hear the radio-based chatter being scattered from ship to ship. Garbles about tactics, young officer raring to get killing, a veritable cacophony suspended in space.

Out of the four ships now present in orbit, three of them were ready for battle. The fourth was still crippled from its recent encounter with a saboteur.

In the three functioning ships, every torpedo tube was readied, soldiers cramming into high-explosives like ram-rodding a cannon. Laser banks were charged up, aiming at the capital cities of the world. They opted, however, not to raise the shields. A waste of power, given the capability of the enemy in this situation.

Their tacticians had predicted that if they didn't commence the attack within ten time units, then the species below would become aware of their presence. Granted, there was little they could do about it, but it still wasn't worth the risk.

Inside the computer room, half of the guards had resigned to their fate, simply pressing random chains of buttons in the faint hope of success. Meanwhile, the other was still scrambling at every available surface, living off of the vain hope that their haphazard technique would be the cure to the dilemma.

The Commander the scene, inwardly rather amused by the spectacle. In typical circumstances, his head would be just as much at stake as the rest of his crew. But this wasn't typical. Even at the worst of times, he was capable of worming his way out of a death sentence. When a situation as bizarre as this reared its head, it wouldn't be any trouble at all.

On the floor, the Doctor hadn't moved; he stared at the ceiling, presumably counting the pattern in the metal tiles. Unless he fancied being shot into a cinder, he wouldn't be moving any time soon.

'Sir?' one of the guards said, looking into the cat's cradle of wires. 'I think we've got a problem.'

'What is it?'

'A relay device. It would seem that the fugitive connected it to the circuitry just before we broke in.'

'And?'

'It's connected to the transmitters. I think it's sending out a signal, to the other ships.'

'Decode it.'

'Sir, I can't!'

'Decode it now.'

'I'm sorry, but it can't be done!'

'Ensign…'

The worker nodded slowly, before turning into the wiring. In the corner of the room, the speaker crackled and fizzled into life.

'Greetings,' spoke a familiar voice through the systems. 'This is Captain John Smith, of the good ship Bounty.'

Groaning, the Commander glared at the Doctor, who smiled and waved in return.

'This ship has been seized by the Interplanetary Resistance Platoon. You have 2 time units to leave this system, or face the consequences.'

The Commander grabbed the edges of the Doctor's shirt, hauling him up and suspending him in the air. 'You!'

'Just wanted to pass on a message.' the Doctor grinned in retaliation. 'Hope you don't mind.'

'Shut that broadcast down!' the Commander roared at the nearest lackey. 'Now!'

The whole lot of them got to work, tearing apart the devices. But it was too late. By the time the message shut down, the transmitter had frizzled away, the message had been received and the targets realigned. Suddenly, three arrays of torpedoes, lasers and pop-guns were aimed directly at the Commander and his ship.

'I've coded in an attack pattern,' the Doctor told his enemy coolly. 'Fully automatic.'

'That won't last long,' snarled the Commander in return. 'We have to get to the bridge!'

'Are you sure about that?' the Doctor asked, as the group stampeded to the door. 'Only, I seem to remember something about a lockdown…'

The blood drained from the Commander's face, turning a nasty shade of white. 'The other guards…'

'You've just destroyed the communications system,' the Doctor told him, wriggling free and brushing himself off. 'Slight hitch in the plan, there.'

The Commander shoved him to the floor, grunting in anger. 'The service hatches!'

'Gassed, sir.' one of the troops replied. Upon being met with the Commander's daggers, he quietly turned and stared at the floor.

'The attack should be starting soon enough,' the Doctor announced, picking himself off of the floor. 'Just enough time to reach the escape pods and get away.'

'Impossible. The pods can't be reached on this deck.'

The Doctor simply chuckled in response. 'Oh dear…must be off.'

He sauntered out of the room, doffing an imaginary hat to the guards. They stared in bemusement as he grabbed onto a wire and tugged it out of the socket in a single pull.

Quickly, the Doctor dove out through the door, hearing it click shut behind him. He rolled across the floor, absorbing the blow and directing himself down the corridor. As he made it to his feet, he didn't break speed once.

There was a flash of darkness. All around her, it rippled, dipping darker and ever-so-slightly lighter, forming impossible patterns before her eyes.

Mel squinted, determined to shut out the nonsense. A prick of brilliant white, barely legible, appeared, growing into a gigantic circle. The shape expanded, spreading around to form a ring surrounding Mel. Finally, it filled in the higher gaps, until the white had totally replaced the black.

The light was blinding her, searing her synapses. No matter how tightly she clamped her eyelids shut, the light still somehow found a way in, digging into her irises like a drill.

And then it stopped. For what seemed like days, she was too scared to move, hoping that the attack had perhaps forgotten about her.

'Hello, Mel.'

Terrified, she peered up, pulling her hands away from her eyes. The room had balanced itself out to a smooth middle ground; not the blinding light nor the ravenous dark.

The walls were a bland grey, curving up and down to mark the rounded nature of the cavern. Small antennae, surrounded themselves by a matching dish, were implanted into the sides at regular intervals, humming quietly to themselves as they died down, the light at the end fading away.

Mel was stood in the pit of the chamber, the walls curving like a huge bowl. In the centre of the wall opposite was a metallic rectangle, around six foot by three. With a groaning hiss, a set of steps appeared in one section of the wall, connecting her to the rectangle.

In turn, the rectangle retracted into the wall above it. A harsh screech of light took its place, giving Mel the slightest glimpse at the corridor beyond.

A figure stepped into view. After only a moment of thought, Mel recognise the outline; granted, there was a few integral components missing, but it was him nonetheless.

The Doctor gazed upon Mel, content to see her still in one piece.

'Doctor!'

Mel, still half-convinced that it was no more than a mirage, stumbled towards the shape, making her way up the steps. 'It's you!'

'Yes,' the Doctor laughed, oblivious to the ordeal. 'Sorry I took a while. Got a little…waylaid. I did send a message, though. Not sure if it got through.'

'The…hooded person? That was you?'

The Doctor considered his answer for a moment, before nodding decisively. 'Yes, it will have been. That's the problem with spatio-temporal mechanics; you never know what you're going to get.'

'What about all the people?'

'People?'

'Yes, in the house! Arthur, Maisy, Alice, the Professor!'

'Characters of a book, Mel,' the Doctor replied, putting his hands on her shoulders for comfort. 'As real as stories.'

'But I talked to them…'

'Advanced Training.' the Doctor murmured, tracing his finger around the lettering on the door. 'Replicate the environment on the planet, the troops know what to expect.'

'And you…shut the programme down?'

'Safest way to extract. As long as the programme was activate, we couldn't risk getting you out. And shutting it down too quickly would be almost certain death.'

'So all the…characters disappearing?'

'Simplifying the programme, bit by bit. The programme was slowly shutting down, removing the extraneous elements – sights, sounds-'

'People.'

'Yes, characters.' The Doctor emphasised, pointing to her. Suddenly, he looked over his shoulder, a thud booming down the corridor. 'Come on,' he urged, shutting the door. 'We've got to go.'

With the twenty-eighth hit to the bulkhead, it unclamped and slid open, freeing the group inside.

'Spread out!' the Commander barked, checking his own weapon discretely. 'First to find him gets to live!'

The troops split up, running like a stampeding horde of wildebeest. This deck was one of the smaller ones aboard, owing to the curving exterior of the ship; however, there was still a bounty of rooms and holes for the fugitive to hide in.

'Clear!' shouted one of the guards, inspecting the nearest cabin. 'Clear!' called another, waggling his rifle at the armoury. 'Clear!' came a third voice, proving the mess hall was safe.

With each cry, the guards won back the deck, room by room by room. The Commander took it all in stride, his face fixed into a pitiless grimace. Knowing the track record of his enemy, at least some of this squadron wouldn't make it back from the expedition. Before the pang of regret could hit him, he remembered the day he'd just had. Quite frankly, they deserved it.

'What's on this deck?' he asked a troop, not willing to give him the respect of attention.

'Training,' the guard replied, lowering his gun. 'Cabins, mess, armoury, low level storage.'

'No, that's not it…' the Commander bit his lip, shaking his head. 'There's got to be something I've missed.'

A memory hit him like a brick wall, almost bringing him down to his knees. 'No…' he muttered 'He couldn't.'

Shoving the guard aside, he walked down the corridor, entranced by the idea.

There was another room on this deck. One he himself had made use of that very day – that very hour, in fact. If this man knew what he was doing, then it might just work. Quickly, he summoned the requisition forms from that morning to the front of his mind; 47 rifles, a quota of food portions, 12 uniforms…yes. Yes, they'd be there.'

'With me.' he ordered the guards to his side, beckoning down the corridor. 'Follow behind, shut off the corridor. The rest, keep searching.'

The group nodded in reply, before returning to their work. With a grim sneer on his face, the Commander approached the end of the corridor.

'Trust me, Mel,' the Doctor told her, tapping the square of buttons and opening the hatch in the wall. Inside was a gathering of equipment – boots, masks, gloves. The collection was eclectic to say the least to Mel.

They were stood in a small room, not much larger than a broom cupboard. One glass door connected them to the corridor, opening ajar; a much thicker, heavy-set door was opposite it, tightly sealed shut. Next to a hole that had appeared in the wall was a mess of wires, dangling from their place. However, the Doctor ignored the wires, after switching two around and muttering a 'much better' to himself quietly.

'What are we doing?' she asked, still reeling from the after-effects of the shock.

'A walk.'

The Doctor, with barely a second to breathe, lifted up his index finger and spun it around, indicating for Mel to do the same. She complied. Quickly, he lowered a mask onto her face, strapping it on behind her. After struggling for a second, she surrendered, letting him finish the job. The glass pane of the mask was pressed straight against her eyes, barely an inch between; the breathing tube was connected to her mouth, prying out each breath and forcing the next in.

The gloves were strapped on, alongside the overly-large boots. When she looked up, she saw that the Doctor had done the same to himself, complete with mask securely fastened to his head.

He reached out, tapping the red button next to the glass door. As it hissed shut, the heavier door started to slide open. The air around them rushed out, ruffling Mel's hair and flapping the dress around her knees.

Over his shoulder, the Doctor glanced through the door. The Commander had appeared, raving at the pair through the door, spittle shooting out of his mouth and fist slamming against the glass panes. Grinning, the Doctor waved goodbye, stepping through the hatch.

'Get him!' the Commander cackled, hitting the glass as hard as he could. Even if he could summon up the 5 megaton strength required to fracture it, it would do no more than kill everyone in the vicinity. However, given his options, that seemed to be the preferable choice.

'We can't, sir.' the nearest guard sighed in defeat. 'They've taken the only airmasks on this deck and the lockdown's still active. There's no way we can get at them.'

'Then find a way! Or you can the walk outside yourself!'

In a fit of pique, the Commander stormed off, leaving the bemuse guards in his trail.

One foot before the next. That's it, nice and gentle. Left, right, left, right. It was like being drunk; everyday tasks so mundane and ordinary as walking becoming the complex and surreal tasks they were.

She focused on the hull beneath her, opting to ignore the fantastic display above her. The Doctor had been guiding her across the surface, holding her hand and leading her to their destination.

Somehow, the apparatus attached to her by the Doctor stopped her from choking the moment they left the airlock. She didn't have the slightest idea how, but was grateful nonetheless.

Daringly, she glanced upwards. Before her, the beams of light were flung from one ship to the other, great lengths of red, blue and green launching themselves into the bright ivory hulls.

The ship nearest to theirs was barely holding together by the looks of things; chunks of it were missing, or floating around in the space surrounding it. Sheets of the hull had been eroded away to reveal the workings inside, decks and walls crossed together like gauze.

A flash of orange blared from the side of the ship, launching forward a cylinder of grey. A torpedo. It was followed shortly by a second, third and fourth. The whole lot of them made contact with the weakened ship, hitting at four different points across the shape.

A quartet of flames bore into the hull upon impact, splitting the ship into countless segments. Suddenly, a larger explosion appeared at the centre, blasting the ship apart and blowing it away like a balloon being burst.

Mel automatically ducked, despite the futility of the action. The nearest portions missed them by what seemed to be miles, shooting away from the battle and into the depths of space soundlessly, before slowing to a halt.

She watched in awe, following the spectacle like a child with a firework.

The Commander jolted to one side along with the rest of the ship, bracing himself against the wall for safety. That blast was the strongest by far. Thankfully, however, the ship was holding together.

His troops had just about managed to remove the lockdown on the liftshaft – however, the damage brought about by the attack had shut down the actual lifts.

'Do we assume Option One or Two when we reach the bridge? the Ensign, having recovered from the Doctor's attack.

The Commander pursed his lips. Option One was safety-based; total lockdown of all areas. Damage would be limited, but once you were stuck in a sector due to be hit, there was no escape. Option Two, on the other hand, meant that the lockdown would be completely averted, with every possible door opened. It would allow each individual person time to reach an escape pod, but the slightest damage could have the most widespread effects.

'Option Two,' he announced, with little hesitation.

The pair reached the next liftshaft. Groaning, the Ensign forced his hands into the gap and pried the two doors apart. 'Come on…' the Commander urged, tapping his foot impatiently. Another blast rocked the ship, almost knocking the Ensign into the shaft.

Locking into place, the doors were fixed apart, with around a foot between them. The Commander scowled, before shoving the Ensign away and forcing himself through the gap.

The cool breeze of the shaft hit him, sending a wave of goosebumps over his flesh. Nevertheless, he bared it, grabbing onto the ladder and starting to climb.

A trail of equipment was scattered throughout the corridor, like the breadcrumbs in a forest. Gloves, boots and masks led from the airlock, circling through the maze of corridors and towards a particular panel in the wall.

Mel looked around, still not sure that they wouldn't be ambushed at the last second. Directly in front of her stood the Doctor, with a bundle of wires in his mouth.

'Don't worry, Mel,' he spoke through the mouthful 'we're safe. The guards will all be distracted by the battle.'

'I hope you're right…'

'I am!' he replied indignantly. 'Trust me!'

He touched the ends of two exposed wires, creating a small spark of electricity which leapt between the two. The burst of power was clearly enough to open the hatch, as it slid away.

Overwhelmed by curiosity, Mel glanced through the hole. It was a long, darkened tube, not dissimilar to a slide in a play area. As far as she could tell, it was a straight line, heading downwards and to the side at a sharp angle.

'Right,' the Doctor decided, clapping his hands together. 'In you get.'

Mel stared, still caught in a stupor. 'Sorry?'

'In you go!' insisted the Doctor, beckoning towards the tunnel. 'Don't worry, it's perfectly safe. I'll be with you in a moment. I just have to sort something out.'

Sighing, Mel reluctantly acquiesced, holding onto the bar above the hatch. Pulling herself up and swinging her legs inside, she found a foothold and started to climb.

The Doctor watched her climb down the first few steps, before moving into the darkness. He gave one last wave of encouragement, then closed the hatch to.

Rubbing his hands together, he peered around the corridor. Thankfully, nobody was about, meaning that there was nobody to stumble across the disturbed access point. It should be safe like that, then.

Yes…should…

With one last furious burst of strength, the Commander charged down the corridor, the numerous bulkheads running past quicker and quicker. Behind him, the Ensign fell behind, running out of puff much quicker than his superior.

The bridge was in sight. He hadn't been able to believe it at first – surely they must be on the wrong deck, or wrong sector? But no…they'd made it.

Apart from the two of them, the corridors were deserted. Silent and still.

'Report!' the Commander howled, barging into the bridge. There was only one other officer in the room, presumably standing guard in case the man should return.

'Er…' the officer replied suddenly, clearly caught off-guard by the order. 'The…the fugitive's attack program is happening as planned. The Neuron has been destroyed, the Axon damaged and the Dendrite has little to no damage.'

'I don't care about them, Ensign!' the Commander barked. 'I care about me! How is this ship?!'

'Er…holding together, from what it looks like. This fugitive is quite the strategist.'

'I'll have to hire him when all this is over.' the Commander muttered dourly. 'Are all the escape pods still in place?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Good. Prepare to jettison them.' he ordered, heading towards the door.

'Sir?'

'We have 120 escape pods positioned over this ship. Should either the Axon or Dendrite choose to pick them off, they will have to do so one by one. Jettisoning all of the escape pods with create a larger amount of decoys. I should make planetfall safely enough.'

'I'm not sure I understand, sir.'

'No, I didn't think so.' the Commander sniffed back. 'If any of the crew asks, I am present on the bridge and urging them to keep fighting. That's an order, do you understand?'

'Well, yes sir, but-'

'Good. Get to it.' ordered the Commander, as he headed towards the exit.

As he marched brusquely down the corridor, he passed the weary face of the Ensign and, with a derisive smirk, hummed a funeral dirge in his mind.

It was quite fortunate that she could still feel, Mel thought to herself. The darkness had taken away her sight; the silence her hearing and solitude her words.

But she could still feel. She could feel the ladder beneath her fingers, and the cold air nipping at her skin.

As far as she could tell, she had been climbing for 90 seconds, give or take a few. However, that didn't actually mean a thing. She could be one step from the end or barely even started. There was no way of telling in the darkness.

She paused for a moment, catching her breath. No matter how far up she craned her neck, the beam of light left in the hatch was simply out of sight. The Doctor had closed it just after she entered the tunnel, but she had still been able to see it.

Now, there was just nothing.

She was tempted to drop something down the shaft before her, to see how far a drop it was, how long she had left to go. But there was nothing to drop. Her remaining shoe was tightly strapped onto her foot, she wasn't wearing any loose jewellery and the pocket watch was out of reach.

Sighing, she brought her relief to an end and continued her descent.

Suddenly, she lowered one foot and found nothing. The force pulled away her other foot, dangling her over the gap. Grunting, she gripped onto the rung desperately, swinging her legs about, searching for a hold.

It was no good. She couldn't hold on for much longer – her fingers were already slipping off – but there wasn't a hold.

'Doctor!' she shouted, her voice echoing in the metal tube. 'Doctor!'

Her first few fingers fell away, followed by some more and more. The last slipped and she fell into the black.

There wasn't much left of the Neuron. Whilst the main blast had mostly destroyed, it had only succeeded in tearing apart the different components – engines, weaponry, bridge. The actual parts themselves were still structurally sound.

A common tactic in battle was to cripple a vessel and board it during battle. Saboteurs would damage the engines, leaving the ship with absolutely no chance of reviving itself.

Because of this, the Axon and Dendrite had the advantage by far. Within a matter of minutes, the ship would be destroyed, little more than a collection of rubble and ash, floating in the void of space.

The Commander felt thoughts like that swimming around inside his head, pushing him further and further towards the deadline. He lowered himself to the escape pod and sealed the door rapidly. Through the transparent section at the base of the pod, he saw the planet below; brilliant swirls of white, blue and green forming a perfect orb beneath him. Primitive, but it will do. He could set up a communications radio, support beacon – yes, this should do quite nicely.

He punched in the activation code for the pod, strapping himself in. 'Ready, bridge.' he called to the microphone, smiling once more. 'Let's go for it.'

'Yes, sir.' the tentative voice replied, crackled by the speaker.

A short chain of pips filled the air – warning signals to shut all doors, strap in, no arms or legs out of the vehicle. A whoosh sounded and the pod was released.

It flew through space alongside all the others, heading towards the planet below. For a scant few seconds, the Dendrite and Axon seemed to ignore them, letting them pass without a second thought. However, the beams started to flow, a momentary flash hitting each pod and causing them to explode in a shower of sparks.

The Commander watched the events unfold on the scanner before him. Whilst he seemed to safe for the time being, the blasts were getting closer and closer all the while. 2 time units to the atmosphere…

More of the pods were destroyed by the lasers, trimming down the numbers dramatically. There couldn't be more than ten left…

He sucked in his breath, watching the red dots fade away from the scanner. There was just one now. The lasers seemed to stop, drawing out as much tension as possible.

They returned to the ship. The Commander almost cheered in joy – in fact, he did, several times – before turning his attention back to the viewscreen.

According to the pod, he would just about make it to the surface before the ships were destroyed. If he was quick about it, he just might manage to claim that the crew mutinied, kicking him off the ship and taking it as their own. A tad out of character, perhaps, but still more plausible than the actual events.

Yes, that was it. He'd make it to the planet, scare off a few locals and set up camp. When the battle was over, set off a distress call and get picked. Back to the homeworld a hero.

He smiled, relishing the thought. He could see the reward ceremony now…

Mel groaned, feeling around the lump on her head. A bright haze filled her eyes, blinding her for now. Well, that had to be a positive – it made a difference from the dark.

It was a large chamber, at least five stories high. Various tubes and circles were broken into the round walls, leading off to other parts of the ship. A rumbling sound from one of the holes sounded, joined shortly by a conclave of scrap metal parts. They fell through the air and clattered onto the ground, barely missing Mel.

A tube ended maybe seven feet above where she was lying right now – ah. That explains it. So it hadn't been a fearsome drop at all; mere feet from the ground. She felt a tinge of embarrassment in her cheeks.

Small piles had accumulated over time, towering up with food scraps, salvage and other paraphernalia. And in the centre of it all...the TARDIS.

The Doctor strode onto the bridge, vaulting over the guardrail and crouching into the corner. Upon seeing him, the Ensign spun around, beads of sweat dripping from his face.

'What are you doing here?!'

'Just popping in.' the Doctor replied, waving his hand dismissively. Quickly, he tugged on the pullover and jacket, before popping the hat onto his head.

The Ensign didn't even think. By now, he didn't have to. It was an instinct, a snap decision that would put the wrongs to right. He raised his weapon.

'I'll kill you.'

'No, you won't.' decided the Doctor, as he stuffed his pockets of the items.

'I mean it!'

'No, you don't.'

The Ensign primed the weapon, placing the barrel against the Doctor's face. One squeeze of the trigger and splat! It'd be over.

'You don't want to shoot me.' the Doctor murmured, turning to face the man. 'That would be a bad idea, wouldn't it?'

'…No.'

'Yes, of course it would. It would hurt me. Isn't nice to hurt people, is it?'

'…No, it isn't.'

The Doctor stared at the Ensign, focussing his eyes. 'So why are you doing it?'

'Because I have to.'

'No, you don't.'

'No…' the Ensign stammered 'I don't.'

'So you don't have to kill me then, do you?'

'No.'

'Then don't do it.' the Doctor ordered, tucking his hands into his pockets. The Ensign considered the chain of logic, before lowering the weapon. 'Good,' smiled the Doctor as he picked up the umbrella and left the bridge.

Even to a complete philistine of military tactics, it was clear that the battle was drawing a close. Despite the superior stratagem of the Doctor, the ship was simply outgunned. Already, great chunks of it were being blown away from the main body, sent spiralling off into the abyss of space.

Inside the sprawling veins of the ship, people were desperately running up and down corridors, hoping to find the inconsequential task that would somehow win them the battle.

One such individual was a man called the Doctor, who kept one hand on his hat at all times lest it fall off. His feet pounded against the deck, furiously propelling him forward along the corridor.

Mel felt around her neck, hooking her fingers on the chain and pulling it free. Before her, the TARDIS key glinted in the air. Making her way over the pile of refuse, she reached the TARDIS, inserting the key into the lock. Running her hands along the smooth wooden surface, she couldn't help but smile.

'Mel!' she heard a voice cry, booming down the vent. Confused, she looked up at the source. It grew louder, and more human too, until she could make it out, clear as day.

'Mel!' the Doctor shouted as he shot through the tube, landing in the same spot Mel did. 'The TARDIS! Quick!'

'Doctor? What is it?' she asked back, helping him to his feet.

'No time, into the TARDIS, now!'

He turned the key, opening the door and with a shove of the arm, pushed her inside. Not a moment to lose, he followed after, shutting the door.

There was the most tremendous bang. It rippled through space, causing each loose part to quiver on the spot and shake in fear of itself. They drifted apart for a moment, before an explosion appeared.

It consumed the ship, charring what was left of the hull and turning it to ash. Countless people cried out, hoping to reach the escape pods and draw out a few more minutes of life. They were snuffed out like a row of candles.

Every inch of the ship was destroyed. From the food rations to the stitching in the uniform, it was lost. Jericho Manor was no more.

'Not a pleasant fate,' the Doctor mused, idly pressing the buttons of the TARDIS console. 'Very different to humans, once you get under the skin. Presuming the Commander makes it to the surface, he'll be tracked down by the authorities and analysed. If he's lucky, that is.'

'Now, then,' he started, turning the dimensional matrix off and on again. It click into place happily. 'Where to? The real Pease Pottage? Still, not too bad. Quite a nice place, Pease Pottage…always so serene…'

He waited for a response, before filling the empty space. 'I've taken care of the ships. A quick command into the communications circuits. The ships will destroy each other, then pick up the cargo and head back home. The attack will be called off for the next…oh, I don't know. Hundred years or so? About that, yes.'

By now, he was getting a little irate. One-sided conversations had a nasty habit of getting tiresome quickly, even moreso when the company was of a particularly garrulous nature.

He looked over to Mel, expecting a reply. To his surprise, she wasn't there.

Slowly, Mel opened the door, fumbling around for the lightswitch. It clicked on, filling the room with light.

Somehow, it was all different. The bric-a-brac assorted around the room was…soulless. Emotionless. Unreal. Like they were memories of someone else's life, stories that she had only heard, not experienced.

Numbly, she sat down on the bed, slipping off the remaining shoe. Her gaze fell upon the postcard, resting just to her side on the table. The sunny scene, the bright picture, the people smiling and living…it was a caricature. A silhouette of the Pease Pottage she now remembered.

The square…it wasn't supposed to be like that. The golden sunlight was standing in place of the sombre dark; the modest shadows cast by the buildings were only fractions of their true selves; the vivid colours exaggerated from the honest grey and black.

Sharply, she grabbed the postcard in her hand and crumpled it into a ball. She tossed it across the room, letting it miss the bin by miles.

If she had the energy, she'd throw as much of the room as possible into the bin. All of it, it seemed to be mocking her, taunting her for her failure.

But she simply wasn't able to. After the almost constant ordeal of the last 24 hours, she wanted to do nothing more than rest and sleep.

She lay back on the bed, stretching out as much as she could. Before she could think any further about it, she was asleep.