Branden Arnold was a coward. He'd always held on to a lingering hope that in the face of great danger, he would stand up and be counted wearing the bravest face in the world. It was impossible to hold onto that delusion any longer though, as Branden had now faced great danger, and promptly run in the opposite direction with barely a second thought.
Deserter. That was the word people would use to describe him now. His heart sunk at the thought. He wondered whether people would blame him, or just pity him. He supposed it didn't really matter now, all those people he'd once known would soon be dead. The universe seemed to be full of the dead and the dying.
His courage had held right up until the last second. Standing with his human brothers and sisters in arms, Branden had felt a sense of pride swelling within him, right up until the first Voord submarine had ascended to the surface of the ocean.
When the humans' colony ship had crashed on the aquatic moon of Chimuri, they'd found hope when they realised it was empty and inhabitable. Their first city was just starting to rise. Then the Voord came: A humanoid race of semi-aquatic conquerors, encased in full black bodysuits. Branden had joked that they looked like frog-men and the nickname had stuck. He smiled for a second as he remembered.
The Voord wanted this moon for their own, to add to their growing galactic empire, and they were not prepared to let a band of pesky humans continue to live there in peace and freedom. The colony was given the chance to submit as slaves, but their leaders had refused. Branden had stood with the other soldiers, lined up along the coastline, awaiting the Voord invasion. But then the Voord actually came. And Branden ran.
A fleet of one-man submarines had broken the calm of the water before them, speeding towards the waiting human soldiers. There were far more of them than they had imagined, and the submarines weren't all. Crashing into the horizon behind the advance guard was a huge battle-ready barge, with hundreds of the wet-suited frog-men diving into the water like deep sea divers and clawing their way through the ocean towards the human outpost with inhuman speed. The first Voord soldier had barely placed a foot on land when Branden's courage deserted him, and he found himself dropping his gun to the floor, turning on his heels, and sprinting away from the battlefield. "Coward!" the woman next to him had shouted, and that was the part of the memory that hurt the most.
Branden stopped when he saw another figure. Another man, sat on the ground flicking through a book. His clothes identified him as Branden's superior – a Captain. The name Erikson was printed on the left-hand side of the jacket. For a moment Branden worried he'd be sent back to his death. But then he realised there was only one reason a captain would be found this far from the battlefield. He was a deserter too. "Hello!" the captain called out, far friendlier than Branden had thought, and Branden realised he'd been spotted. "Hello," he answered slowly, uncertain.
The captain patted the ground next to him with a warm smile, and Branden decided it was safe, sitting down next to him. "Do you read?" the captain asked. Branden paused. It seemed like a ridiculous question. "Yes," he answered confidently. "Would you like to read this?" he offered Branden the book he had been reading and Branden glanced down at the title in confusion. Faster than Light Travel and the Other Secrets of the Universe. By Johann Slyker. "…No." Branden decided.
The captain nodded slightly, accepting this, then tossed the book over his shoulder, deciding the newcomer was far more interesting. "Why are you here?" he asked, and his eyes seemed to see right into Branden's soul. "Same reason you are, sir." The captain seemed to raise an eyebrow at the word 'sir' but didn't comment on it. "Really?" he said amusedly, "well that is unexpected, I'm usually the only one even remotely interested in the things I end up doing." Now it was Branden's turn to raise an eyebrow: "Did you really think you'd be the only deserter, Captain Erikson?"
Erikson looked confused for a moment, but then he looked down at his jacket and realised his name was printed on it. "I suppose that would be a ridiculous thing to think," he laughed to himself. "What made you run away?" Branden asked. Erikson looked at him with a new curious look in his eyes. "Good question," the captain muttered, "you answer it first." Branden sighed. Officers were all the same.
"I ran away because I was scared," Branden answered, and as he did he realised it was the first time he'd admitted that out loud. "Nothing wrong with scared," Erikson smiled fondly as if remembering something or someone, then the smile seemed to fade away and for such a young man, the captain suddenly looked so very very old. "Better a coward than a killer," he muttered. "What about you?" Branden asked, determined to get an answer this time.
"I started running away a very long time ago. Long enough, I'm not sure I remember why." As odd as it sounded, Branden understood. Wars could last years, but moments lasted lifetimes. A few hours running through a warzone like this with nothing but your thoughts screaming at you for company, and memories of a woman you barely knew calling you a coward filling your head, it felt like yesterday was so far away, and so long ago. "I think I started running because it was easier than staying still," Erikson shrugged as if it didn't really matter.
"What's your name?" Erikson asked but then he spotted the word Arnold printed on Branden's jacket just as Erikson was printed on his own. "Arnold…" he read aloud. "Branden Arnold," Branden clarified. "Do you prefer Branden or Arnold?" Erikson asked. Branden hesitated and Erikson answered for him: "Branden it is. Tell me, Branden, have the Voord started their attack yet?"
"You mean, you deserted before they'd even arrived?" Branden stared at the captain in disbelief. "Answer the question." Erikson's voice suddenly had a harsh edge to it and Branden felt compelled to do as he was told. "Yes," he answered. "Is there a big boat thing there yet, or just the little ones?" Branden answered that question with a nod. "Good!" Erikson beamed. "Good?" Branden almost choked on the word, "how is that good?!" Erikson's smile didn't fade this time: "Because that means it's time for me to come in."
The captain clasped his hands together gleefully, and Branden started to suspect that he wasn't dealing with a fellow coward, but rather a complete madman. "How much of the universe have you seen, Branden?" he asked. "Earth. Colony ship. Here." Branden listed the sum total of his interstellar travels. Erikson nodded, reaching into his pocket. "Then let me show you something new. Something… Spectacular."
He pulled a long cylindrical device from the inside pocket of his jacket, and Branden wondered what was so spectacular about it. With a flick of his wrist, the end of the device lit up green, and a sharp buzzing noise came off it. "I should probably mention," Erikson turned back to Branden, "my name isn't Erikson." Then Branden's world changed forever as the air seemed to shift around them and a blue box materialised around the two men.
"I'm the Doctor."