They made their way to the prison as Jane did a mental count of how many affected were detained. While she and Damian had been working alongside each other on the bridge that morning there had been eight more attacks. She knew that the attacks were increasing, and she feared that as time progressed things would continue to amplify with ever increasing momentum to the point where there would be a small chance that they would be able to have enough people to operate the ship in order to make it to the Time Gate.
Perhaps she could convince the Doctor into transporting them directly to the Gate, that would certainly save them a lot of time. They'd have to get all of the missiles and transport them into the tardis, as the Doctor was vehemently opposed to weapons and didn't keep any on his ship.
They entered the prison and Jane led them straight to the glass partitions. The Doctor pressed his face against the glass to peer at the prisoner held prisoner was a man in a green janitor's uniform, his face devoid of emotion as he lay shackled to his bed, completely immobile.
"Why's he chained up?" Clara asked from her side as she peered at the prisoner lying devoid of emotion, his brown eyes staring straight upwards and giving the overall appearance of being completely innocent and not capable of committing the murder he had just done a few hours before.
"To keep him from killing himself," Damian said in his deep baritone voice which made the statement seem all the more drastic.
"If the affected aren't able to kill others they turn to killing themselves," Jane explained.
They were interrupted by the sounds of a struggle emanating from the hallway. Someone was shouting-at least two males-and it sounded as though someone was being physically dragged towards the prison. Curious, they all walked back to the hallway and crowded the doorway.
Jane immediately recognized Elsa, the furry technician who had been a witness to the first murder of their trip. The petite, mouse-like humanoid strained against the two burly security guards who half carried and half dragged her down the hallway. She twisted and strained, her large purple eyes staring forwards and her large ears resting in their natural position even though the rest of her body twisted and pulled against her guards who were verbally shouting instructions to her to command her to stay still.
The Doctor peered at Elsa's writhing form with interest as she neared them, his eyes wide. "Is she affected?"
"Yes." Jane's voice cracked. "You can tell by her blank expression, and the fact that she is desperately trying to injure and ultimately kill her captors," she said, trying to keep her voice devoid of emotion. She hated to learn that Elsa was essentially dead, her body filled by whatever powered her to become affected, but now was not a time for grief.
The Doctor strode forwards, quickly closing the distance between him and the affected. He withdrew his sonic screwdriver from his inner pocket. The two guards blanched and wrenched Elsa away from him at the sight of his screwdriver, mistaking it for a weapon. Jane hurried and strode forwards, catching the guard's attention. "Let him examine her, he's a Doctor."
The Doctor turned back to raise an eyebrow at her as the guards attempted to keep Elsa still for him. She smirked and waved him on, knowing full well that even though he called himself a doctor he wasn't actually trained in the medical profession. He looked back towards Elsa and pointed his screwdriver at her to get a reading as she continued to squirm and kick in the air. Once finished he hopped out of the way and allowed the guards to proceed on their way to the prison. Jane and the others also pressed themselves against the hallway to watch Elsa be forcibly dragged into the prison, her face eerily distressing as she stared around herself with wide open, unresponsive eyes.
Once alone in the hallway the four of them remained silent as they looked towards the Doctor. He peered at his screwdriver for a moment before sliding it back into his pocket. "Technically, she's brain dead," he staid. "All of her motor functions are working-besides her digestive system for some reason-but she has no thought processes or emotional functions."
"You were able to read all of that from your screwdriver?" Damian asked skeptically.
The Doctor patted his pocket proudly. "Yep." He then turned to look at Jane, his expression morose. "I suppose that those attributes make her an affected?"
Jane nodded somberly, grieving for the loss of another of her crew members.
"So what is our plan? Anyone on this ship could become affected at any time so we should probably hurry up with saving the universe," Clara remarked.
"Universes," the Doctor clarified.
Jane took a step forwards. "If you want to give us a lift to the Time Gate, that would certainly speed things up a bit," she addressed to the Doctor.
"And what are you going to do when you get there?" he asked.
"Blow it up. Asinine, I know, but so far it's the best option we've come up with."
He furrowed his brow in a look of consternation.
"We don't have anything on the tardis that could blow anything up," Clara interrupted.
Damian spoke up. "We have missiles on the ship."
"Before we can transport the missiles onto the tardis, first we have to unlock the missiles from the ship's control, which can only be done by me from the main control room."
"Well, aren't you special," the doctor mocked.
"She's the captain of this ship," Damian defended, sounding offended.
Abashed, the Doctor looked at Jane and offered a shrug in apology. Jane laughed and began leading them back to the elevator. They didn't need to stay around the affected any longer, though she began to worry that they might encounter another one once they surrounded themselves with multiple people.
After riding up the lift the doors slid open to reveal the large control room. Rows of red clad crew members stood or sat in their respective places and worked with their transparent screens, their motions slower and their expressions more somber than she had ever seen before. Upon their entrance several of them turned to look at them, their expressions turning to shock as they saw the visitors. Jane pressed on confidently, not giving them any reason for alarm even though two strangers had suddenly appeared on their ship when they were far from civilization and on the outskirts of space. Not that anything as equally strange hadn't recently, Jane mused.
She made her way to the bridge, motioning for Damian and the others to remain behind and mingle by the stairs. Triss stood at the top of the stairs, her green lips pursed and her yellow eyes staring daggers towards the four of them. Jane felt her stomach sink as she realized how neglected she had treated her second in command; completely ignoring her ever since the commander arrived.
"Hello Triss," she stated amicably as soon as she reached the top of the stairs.
Triss stared at her, and from her gritted teeth and frustrated expression Jane began to imagine steam rising from her ears. If she had ears; her head was covered in scales and over her bald head were spikes.
"Captain," she hissed stiffly, clenching her e-book tightly as she glanced once again at the visitors. Her yellow eyes flicked back towards Jane, her slanted pupils thin in frustration. "May I have a word?"
Jane figured that she had every right to at least put Triss at ease, even if she wouldn't be able to tell her everything. She nodded and began to lead her to her private quarters. As she typed in the code she glanced backwards and caught Damian's eye. He was staring at her with a concerned expression, obviously worried that instead of immediately moving the controls of the missiles over she was disappearing with her second in command. She turned her gaze away from him and opened the door. While Triss was obviously upset with her, Jane knew that she was in no danger.
She strode to the center of the hallway and paused, listening to doors sliding shut behind her and the click of the Treshiss's shoes against the floor. Triss stepped to her side so she turned to face her.
"What is going on Captain?" she asked, demanding an answer. "Ever since the games everything has been chaotic; several of the crew are going around killing each other." There was an unspoken accusation against the commander, insinuating his participation in the killings as he had arrived just before the games.
Jane sighed and quickly thought of a viable reason for the killings to explain to her second in command that would keep the blame off of Damian while not revealing too much. "There's a virus spreading."
Triss arched a scaly eyebrow.
"It strikes suddenly and randomly, distorting the victim's thinking and making them outwardly violent. The commander came here to warn me about it, and the other two people with me are a doctor and his companion. They're here to help."
"Why haven't you told me about this before?" Triss accused. "I'm your second in command; I deserve to be kept informed on what has been going on in this ship."
Jane frowned. She hadn't wanted to inform Triss because knowledge that everyone she knew would eventually die as the universe was destroyed because of its collision course was a daunting, traumatic, and depressing reality to comprehend.
Noting her silence, Triss pressed on. "So what is your plan for the virus, if it actually exists? Give everyone shots that miraculously appear out of thin air along with your "doctor" friend?" Her voice was laced with sarcasm and anger.
"I'm putting the ship under your complete control."
Triss stared at her in unabashed shock, her mouth falling open to reveal her pointed teeth hidden inside.
"I'm going to leave with my companions and we're going to put a stop to the violence. Keep everyone safe and locked in their rooms in case they catch the virus. We don't want any more deaths." She peered at her, wondering how Triss was going to protect herself should an affected attack her. "Keep yourself safe," she ordered.
Triss hissed in irritation. She glanced down at her e-book and began pressing buttons, until suddenly a small metal object popped out of the side of the thin tablet. She pulled it out, revealing a deathly sharp knife that she held deftly between her scaled fingers. The blade was wide and surprisingly thick, its edges extremely sharp. "I can take care of myself."
Jane smiled at her ingenuity, knowing that she had chosen her second in command well. "I'm certain that everything will be fine; you're more than capable to command this ship even when faced with these challenges."
Triss humphed in response, obviously still upset about the whole ordeal. Jane turned and began heading back towards the bridge, knowing that there was nothing more that she could say to Triss that would make matters any better between them. She opened the door with a flick of her wrist and strode to the center of the circular platform, her eyes immediately alighting on her companions.
The doctor was talking animatedly with one of her crew members as he excitedly began pressing buttons on the transparent screen. The crew member he was tormenting was watching in horror, unable to stop him. Clara stood by his side, trying her best to keep him from causing too much trouble. Damian remained leaned against the door, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the stranger's interactions with amusement. His eyes flashed up to the bridge from the noise of the opening door and a relieved expression crossed his face when he saw her.
She smiled at him to show that everything was fine as she brought up her screens with a wave of her arm. She quickly accessed the weapons file and brought up the missiles. She typed in all of the passcodes transferring the missiles to the tardis's control. Suddenly pain flared into her as something pierced her back, slipping in smoothly between her ribs. She arched her back in pain, her vision blinded by red. She fell to her knees, unable to draw in a breath, her lungs on fire.