The Castellan had lead The Doctor and Romana back to the war room. A small table of generals met with them, and a plan to negotiate with the Sontarans was proposed. The Doctor's opinion on the matter was that engaging in open conflict with the Sontarans would be a waste of time, resources, and possibly lives. Romana and the rest were incredulous, but eventually seemed to concede. The plan to negotiate had been The Doctor's, so he was assigned leadership of the operation. Romana, intent on preserving her worth as Lady President, was keen on coming along. She commissioned three battle TARDISes to come along with them, as a last resort if things were to go awry.
"How long has it been since we've ridden together?" The Doctor asked, as the two of them walked towards the hangar, flanked by the three crewmen coming along with them.
"Not since... hm..." Romana furrowed her brow.
Remembering travels with The Doctor in terms of straightforward progression was difficult enough, further exasperated by the dozens upon dozens of paradoxes ravaging time due to the war.
"Not since... the anti-time incident." she finally replied.
The Doctor offered her no response outside of a small grunt. Even by the standards of the Time War, the "anti-time incident" as Romana put it was not something he ever wanted to think about.
As they all approached the TARDISes, The Doctor stepped in front of the group. He turned to them and stood at attention. He folded his arms behind his back, beginning to speak.
"Men, Lady President," he started, his tone official and back straight; a stance his dear friend the Brigadier had taken so many times before when addressing his soldiers.
The Doctor lost himself in the memory as he spoke, mirroring the Brigadier's movements as they played out in his head.
"You honor me with your presence here. All of you. Today, we march forward on a mission of great importance. The Sontarans represent a dire threat. They've invaded us before, and if we allow them entry into this war, they will bathe the starways in blood of innocent and evil alike. Now, you lot, tell me, what regiment are you with?"
A soldier standing in the back, rather small in comparison to the rest, spoke up. "The 10th timeborne division, Sir!"
The Doctor regarded the smaller solider, walking up to him and peering downwards. "A strong voice from such a small stature! What is your name, son?"
Romana watched, an amused smirk slowly crawling across over her face. She had seen The Doctor take positions of command before, but had never truly gotten used to it. The Doctor himself imagined himself during his fourth life, watching his friend command his soldiers and thinking how silly it all was. He was thankful he was able to learn so much from the man, and use it all now.
"Private Mason, Sir!"
The Doctor appraised Mason, looking him over. Too often, The Doctor was the small man, trying his best in situations bigger than him. He had learned to appreciate this quality in others when he saw it.
"Good to know you, Private Mason. You understand all I've said, yes? That this is a mission of peace?"
Mason nodded again. "Yes sir!"
The Doctor stepped back, regarding the rest of the soldiers again. "We are not to fire on them. We talk them down, then we leave quickly. We cannot afford to burn any more resources than we already are. Can I trust all of you to follow my orders?"
The soldiers all stood at attention, saluting in unison. "Yes sir!"
The Doctor nodded. "GOOD! Now! Get to your TARDISes! The co-ordinates will be transferred to you. See you on the other side, gentlemen!" The Doctor bellowed, the soldiers running off to their ships, vanishing soon after. Romana and The Doctor made their way over to their familiar blue box.
"You seem to have fit into this role rather well." Romana remarked.
The Doctor opened the door, swinging it open and finding comfort in the endearing creak it let out.
"As well as I've had to, Romana." The Doctor replied, his voice tired.
He didn't like what he had become, but this was what he needed to do, personal feelings be damned.
"After you." he said.
Romana entered the TARDIS, The DOCTOR about to follow.
"What happens if they don't relent?"
The Doctor turned around, seeing Private Mason still standing there; he hadn't seen him stay behind until now.
"Stars, I didn't see you there."
"Nothing I'm not used to." Mason said. "Sir."
"If they don't relent, Private, well... The Sontarans only ever understand force."
Mason stood there, his hands bunched up into fists at his sides. He nodded silently. The Doctor looked him over, seeing the hesitation that could possibly paralyze him; he couldn't have any of his men failing.
"Stick with me." The Doctor said. "Stay close, keep your ears to the comms, and you'll be fine."
He put his hand on Mason's shoulder, squeezing it. Mason winced. The Doctor turned back to the TARDIS, stopping at the doorway as Mason spoke up one last time.
"I've never had to kill anyone before."
The Doctor didn't turn around. He grasped the doorway to the TARDIS tightly before entering and closing the door behind him.
The Doctor nodded to Romana and walked past her to the console. He started flipping various switches, attending to his bells and whistles. Romana looked around, the TARDIS not having changed much since she last saw it. It was still very gothic in nature, with ornate, wooden paneling running along the floor to the console. Innumerable clocks dotted the walls, all measuring various time zones across the universe and ticking like mad.
Dressers filled with all sorts of random items and trinkets picked up from years of traveling, messy shelves and desks, table and chairs; this was a home. This was still a home, and Romana loved it. The ceiling served as a giant view screen. and she watched as the hangar faded away, replaced by the billowing time vortex.
The Doctor turned to her and leaned on the console, resting his hands on the edges. He looked up, watching the smoky swirls wreathed in lightning as they flew. The wheezing and grinding of the central column was the only sound between the two of them. As the vortex swirled around their impossible little box, the two of them locked eyes.
There was something they both felt. Something the two of them understood completely, while at the same time being unable to fathom. Whatever it was kept them from speaking. Was there nothing to say? The two of them knew this was not the case. Perhaps whatever needed to be said eluded them because they did not know how to say it. It was something always at the back of their minds, while simultaneously on the tip of their tongues; and they didn't even know what it was. Perhaps they didn't need to know. Perhaps they always knew.