The Ultimate Re-Master
888
"This target is non-operational." The voice of the cloth-bound cyberman sing-sang like an old transistor radio.
"Is there any salvageable parts?" Came the metallic grunt of a much more metallic and sleek in frame.
"Organismal organization is atypical to current operational standards; internal structure is not compatible for conversion or systemic replacement." The cloth-bound cyberman replied as it scanned the body on the ground. "The target has been here since before the explosion on this deck-"
"Yet tissue scans suggest limited degradation…anomalous…" The sleek companion tilted its head to one side.
"Potential secondary effects of fire suppression systems." The cloth-bound cyberman said. "The anomaly is irrelevant."
The body was burnt, twisted, undoubtedly in the inferno unleashed by the one identifying themselves as 'the doctor'. The proportions of the body when applied to cyber-algorithms suggested bone structure and musculature that matched a female; however deep scans suggested anomalous organ numbers. No cardiovascular, respiratory or neurological activity could be detected, conversion was impossible. Cyber-control was running a risk benefit analysis on the target. The result appeared within the brains of the two cybermen.
"Unusable organic material shall be evicted from the ship. Fuel preservation protocol five-eight-seven-three invoked. Logic calculations are confirmed by network mediation." The sleek Cyberman said to no one as it leaned forward and scooped up the charred cadaver.
It effortlessly tossed the cadaver over its shoulder. The crunch of the ashen dress seared into the flesh of the female released a small burst of ash that marred the cyberman's metallic frame as it walked towards the shuttle pod. Unnoted by the cybermen was that fragments of the ash shimmered as they reached the ground slowly flickering gold as they hissed against the charred ground, and a sprig of grass pushed through the charred surface.
The magnetic field of the pod shifted as it landed near the deck airlock for the zone. Hissing actuators clanked as the sleek metallic cyberman reached down and grabbed three unfortunately inconvertible cadavers and turned to the airlock, one of the cadavers was the anomalous, female target from before. He placed them inside the airlock. Two hissing clanks in reverse and the inner airlock door closed and five point eight six nine three four seconds later the outer airlock hatch opened. The air pressure differential forced the bodies to be ejected into the vacuum. The cyberman tilted its head slightly as it watched three forms float into the abyss; beyond them the all consuming maw of the singularity the ship was trapped near. One would have considered this a moment of reflection on the cyberman's part, maybe even remorse, but one would be wrong. The cyberman was simply recalibrating its optical sensors against the photon emissions occurring just before the event horizon of the singularity and making any kind of tensor conversions for the relative time transitions as the bodies wandered slowly from the ship. Within seconds the cyberman had turned and was moving back to the shuttle pod.
Had the cyberman's calibrations lasted another two point six seven two seconds it would have detected the silent, imperceptible materialization of a cloaked TARDIS as it enveloped the body of the charred woman, but the calibrations had not taken that long and the cybermen didn't detect it.
Lights flickered, or at least they appeared to flicker. There were no lights though, that was hallucination. There was a sensation of a great stream or river, a roaring, raging, sloshing torrent stampeding forward, but this also was an illusion of the sensory deprived. There was the rending thrashing; now that was real, as signified by the expectorating and thrashing. This was new, this was different, this was painful but in a lovely way, the pain of rage, the pain of renewal, the pain of the fires reigniting. The burning sensation hissed and cooled and the swirling world blinked into existence. A swallow, the first, in a very long time, coarsely pushed against his throat.
He stared up at the ceiling. A smile twitched across his lips. There was a warbling mechanical sound coming from his right. He slowly turned his head and looked up to see the console of his TARDIS blinking and singing quietly to itself. His muscles were stiff. He groaned loudly; the sound of his voice was different, but then again there was – a lot that was different; there always was, sometimes, such as now, were more new things than normal. He slowly stood looking down at himself as the charred dress flaked free of his clean, brown skin. Frankly it was shocking that the dress had survived the whole experience in any form, so he had to salute his prior self for her choice in resilient garment choices. His head was still fuzzy and a loud ping caught his attention more sharply than he intended as he turned.
A form flickered into existence in front of him and he instinctively covered himself as he saw who it was. A woman stood in front of him in holographic blue. She was tall, stately like an evil nanny.
"This is Emergency Message 382-" The voice said imperially, as if she was annoyed at even having to say any of this. "-should you go and do what I know you will undoubtedly do; I have put a locator signal into the broach you are wearing that will signal the TARDIS to come to you the moment you are in space. One hopes all that practice I put in to my respiratory bypass has fooled the walking cans of spam, and they do what they should do, which is throw you out into space. The locator should let the TARDIS lock onto you even this close to the singularity; I've made calibrations to the dematerialization circuits to allow you to get out again.
"One also hopes we were more bark than bite, but I suspect we might have gone overboard, you know how we were, dear." The image seemed to walk around the console as she folded her hands behind her back. She looked up to him and stopped, seeming to appraise him, "Though maybe not. This could be a rough one…I don't know how long we may be down could be hours, days or weeks. Things might get fuzzy as to who you are and what you are, can't promise a small amount of brain damage, not supposed to use these tricks like this, but we would try to murder ourselves…and for crying out loud, check yourself and change clothes just in case….a suit and tie may work for a Time Lady but I suspect the haut couture of the feminine side of things won't help if you happen to come out…all…." The image twirled her hand in the air and seemed slightly dismissive, "testosterone and floppy bits. I do truly hope, things come out ok, he's struggling quite hard these days, and I think, maybe…we were close…just this once we were close…and I'm sorry, but I had to give it the old academy try; you know, for the bants. One hopes that we can hold it together but you know with regeneration-"
"You never know what you're going to get-" He said at the same time with her. The female figure then flickered out of existence.
He coughed loudly and wobbled on his feet as a wave of vertigo washed over him. He gripped the TARDIS console. He felt it, the arrhythmia. The four beats were two beats of two, drumming incoherently against his dual pericardial sacs. The pain scythed through his circulatory system. He roared loudly as he staggered backwards.
"Too much damage, regeneration is…-"He hissed as he struggled to contain himself; the realization cutting through his pain as his cells thrashed vigorously within himself. "No…no…I won't…not after all that pre-production!"
He growled as he pushed himself to the TARDIS console. He looked in the mirror, he felt something inside his head...he closed his eyes and there was a flash, of something, deep down but too far in the shadows. Another knife of pain erupted near one of his kidneys. He was falling apart, the onboard medical facilities would not be enough; he couldn't risk catastrophic decay…not this soon.
He entered the coordinates. He narrowed his eyes. A voice in the back of his head angrily shouted 'no', remembering the Cardinal's betrayal and his ignoble ejection. He grunted as another stab of pain cut out from his gallbladder. "No choice…need to…" He reached forward and pushed. He looked into the mirror; his dark skin pulled tight as he smiled a bright smile, within his dark brown eyes he could see the reflection of a beautiful flame; it captivated him as he smiled wider in spite of the pain coursing through his body. "Plus…once I'm better…we can always cause….mischief…."
