"So how did he do it?" Clara hissed over her shoulder as best she could while tied to the side of the console unit. She'd gone to the TARDIS wardrobe to change into something more comfortable and when she'd returned, Contar had been up on his feet with a gun. The Doctor, tied to the other side, shuffled as best he could to look back at her. Both of them were sat on the floor, metal rope wrapped around their waists and arms holding them firmly in place.

"You remember I said Duraxians are like humans except for two ways?"

"I do."

"The first way is that they're slightly telepathic."

"Yeah, I remember that."

"And I said the other way wasn't important…"

"… Yes."

"Duraxians have greater internal control."

"What?"

"He slowed his bodily functions down to a rate slow enough to make it look like he was dying when actually he was perfectly fine."

"That's pretty sneaky of him."

"Yes, it is."

"Why didn't you work that out?"

"Because the wound he got should have been fatal, but I assume when his people turned him into a bomb, they moved his insides around too. If everything's in the wrong place, then it's possible nothing important was hit. It would also explain why the Shadow Proclamation couldn't heal him themselves, apart from their general awkwardness around the subject obviously."

"Okay. I think I've followed everything so far."

"Good! Be proud of that, because I haven't. I'm just making it up as a I go along."

"I actually got that too."

"Hurtful."

"I do have one more question though."

"Oh? I thought I explained everything pretty neatly then."

"Why? Why is he doing this?"

"I don't know. But I suspect we might be about to find out."

Contar Smitt was looking over at them again now. Clara tried her best to wave, hoping maybe there was some of the man she'd spent the day with on Actonia Prime left in him. He didn't wave back. Instead he walked round the console unit until he was facing the Doctor and crouched down so they were eye to eye. "Because I needed the TARDIS," Contar explained.

"I had hoped to earn your trust. In time, I think I could have made you understand. Or at least made you understand, Clara. I need you to open the TARDIS up for me,"

The Doctor glared back at him with icy defiance. "If you look into the heart of the TARDIS, it will kill you."

"I don't intend to look into it…"

The Doctor stared at him, taking it in. Then a look of realisation shot across his face like a bullet. "Ah I see. Of course. You're a soldier."

Clara felt the need to chime in at this point: "I don't. What are you two on about?"

Contar met the Doctor's glare, as if a staring contest would decide which one of them answered. If it did, then Contar must have won, because it was him that circled round to face Clara. She looked up at him expectantly. He sighed, the anger vanishing from his face, replaced with something between melancholy and regret. He dropped down to her eye level, just as he had for the Doctor, and looked her straight in the eye so she knew he meant every word he said.

"When we first met you asked me if I had a family. A long time ago, I did. My wife, Sofie, was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And when she looked at me she saw more than just a soldier. More than just a hand of the sky goddess. Maybe that's why she was so beautiful to me, it doesn't matter: I loved her. And we had two children. A son called Rober and a girl called Yalia. And they were brilliant, I loved them more than life itself. You know, the funny thing is, you actually remind me of my daughter. When I look at you I see what she could have grown up to be. Kind. Smart. Funny. But she isn't you. She never got that chance."

He stood up straight again, turning away from them to hide his face. Clara craned her neck to try and make out his expression but all she could see were brown spikes of hair and the back of his head. His voice choked when he started speaking again though, and that told Clara what she was trying to find out.

"They were taken from me. While I was out fighting on the front lines, the Jarlatons launched a surprise attack on our home world. A bombing run on civilian targets. An unheard-of tactic in our war, but one both sides readily embraced once the precedent was set. Our home was one of the first places hit. My family died in the flames. I never got to say goodbye."

He cut himself off at that point. Clara couldn't see, but she suspected he was crying. The Doctor's voice sounded from the other side of the console, taking over the narrative.

"So that's when you signed up to your side's 'special program' then, am I right? You knew exactly what it was from the start. You were hurt, and you were angry and you wanted revenge so you signed up to kill them all in one stroke, even at the cost of your Duraxanity."

Clara's brow furrowed: "His what?"

"Well he's not actually human so I couldn't say humanity," the Doctor mumbled just loud enough for her to hear, before speaking up again: "I imagine the sob story about how you couldn't sacrifice the other races on your world was a lie too?"

There was a pause, then Contar turned to face them and Clara could see his eyes were red now. She couldn't tell if it was an angry or sad red though. "Yes," he breathed out, "the other life forms on our world weren't advanced enough to give me enough energy. The others wanted to abandon the project there and then, so I had to take matters into my own hands."

"You slaughtered your own people to get revenge for your family."

"Yes, Doctor, I did. And so here I am: the winner."

"… Doesn't feel like winning though, does it?"

"No. That's why I need you."

"Contar, I'm sorry, I really am, but you can't undo what you did."

"I don't want to undo it. I want to redo it."

"What?"

"If I destroy the Jarlatons from within the heart of your TARDIS, they won't just cease to exist now, they will cease to exist from time itself. And if they never existed, then who killed my family?"

"And which people would you burn to accomplish that this time?"

"It doesn't really matter, does it? If the Jarlatons never existed then I never needed to destroy them. The paradox will resolve itself and the people I was forced to wipe out will return in the blink of an eye as if nothing happened. Just in case there is a risk though, I think after what we saw on Actonia Prime, the Dorisians are a fair choice. Don't you, Clara?"

Clara realised Contar was looking at her like he actually wanted an answer. He actually wanted her approval. "You want to know what I think?" she asked in amazement. He nodded. "I think you're nuts!" she spat out. She could actually feel the Doctor smiling proudly at her at that point.

Contar turned away from her in disappointment. "Open the TARDIS, Doctor," he ordered calmly. "No," the Doctor answered, just as calmly. Contar sighed. Then he ripped Clara from her restraints, his arm wrapping around her neck while his other hand pressed a gun to her skull. "I really don't want to kill Clara, but I will if you don't do as you're told."

Clara's heart raced. The Doctor wouldn't let her die, would he? But he couldn't let Contar win either. It was an impossible choice. An impossible choice over an impossible girl.

"You can't change your own history," the Doctor called to him, "time doesn't work like that."

"It will this time. Open the TARDIS."

"I don't think you really want to do this, Contar."

"I really do. Open it."

The Doctor did nothing.

"OPEN IT OR I KILL HER!" Contar shouted at him, rage suddenly bursting from him like a volcano. Clara trembled as the words flew past her ear from the force of it.

"I don't think you will"

Contar dragged Clara with him so they were stood directly in front of the Doctor. The Doctor looked at Clara, his face filled with concern. "It's okay, Clara…" he whispered quietly. "Maybe I won't," Contar said slowly, making a visible effort to keep control of himself, "but are you willing to take that risk?"

Clara saw a look in the Doctor's eyes then that she recognised. A look he reserved only for when she was in trouble. A look she usually prayed for, but this time dreaded. He was actually considering it. And there was a chance he might make the wrong decision and put her safety above the safety of time itself. She couldn't let that happen.

The Doctor went to answer but before he could even get a word out, Clara took matters into her own hands. She broke herself free of Contar's grip around her neck and ran. There was only one way she could run where he couldn't just grab her again so that was the way she ran. Out of the TARDIS doors. One problem. Contar had made the Doctor send the TARDIS back into flight before he'd tied them up. So Clara Oswald jumped into space with no reasonable hope of survival to save Time.

And this time, Time returned the favour.