Who Is My Enemy? © 2003 Margaret Price combines the stories Command Override © 1989 AND The Evil Exchange © 1989
This is a 5th Doctor story that takes place shortly after "The Five Doctors."
Author's Note: This story has the dubious honor of being the second fan fiction I ever wrote, Command Override being the was part of a call for short stories put forth in the now defunct Whovian Times. They don't know what they started.
Even though this story is broken into two parts, the chapter numbers are continuous.
WHO IS MY ENEMY?
PART TWO
THE EVIL EXCHANGE
Chapter 15
Making Plans
Normally the weather on Tel-Shye was mild and pleasant, but this was currently not the case. For days it had been unusually cold and now it was raining heavily. Yet King Aaron was oblivious to the bleakness of the day as he strode merrily through the corridors of the Royal Palace, humming contentedly to himself.
The King was a tall, somewhat dashing figure, appearing to be in his early fifties. He had salt and pepper hair and beard and was of the opinion that the beard made him look wise and distinguished (as opposed to old and decrepit) and kept it as the only affectation as monarch. He ended his journey by entering the offices of his social secretary to be greeted by her assistance.
"Good morning, Majesty," the young man said as he rose to his feet.
"Good morning, Cedric," Aaron replied happily. "Is the Baroness available? I need to speak with her."
Before Cedric could respond, a velvety voice came through the open door to the adjoining office. "I'm always available for you, your Majesty."
Cedric grinned and held out a hand. The King grinned back, going through the door and closing it behind him.
The Baroness Tostine had what could only be described as a regal beauty. Her long dark hair fell gracefully about her shoulders, and her sapphire blue eyes sparkled brightly at the unusually jovial monarch. "If you're here to tell me that Jason won't be returning as previously expected," Shadra said as the King entered, "I'm already aware of it and have taken care of everything."
"I'd be surprised if you hadn't, my dear," Aaron replied, motioning that she need not rise. Taking a seat opposite her, he said, "I'm here on what you might call a related matter."
"Related? In what way, my lord?"
"My dear Lady Tostine," the monarch sighed, making a point of emphasizing her title. "Will there ever be a time you call me by name again?"
Shadra gave him a knowing look through her eyelashes and smiled sweetly. "Perhaps," she said evasively. "Now, about this related matter?"
"As you know, it's my unenviable honor to arrange the marriage of the Crown Prince," he said, getting to the point. "And as I see it, there's only one person suitable for my rebellious offspring…"
"She'd have to be a saint," Shadra snorted, thinking sadly that she was about to be asked to arrange an engagement party. She had grown up with Prince Jason and knew him quite well. The word intimately sprang to mind, and she tried to push those memories aside but could not escape the fact that she still loved him deeply. Unfortunately, she knew he no longer felt the same way he had when they were young…so very, very long ago.
The monarch smiled affectionately. "Yes. How would you like to apply for sainthood?"
Shadra's jaw dropped open. She was overwhelmed, delighted, and heartsick all at the same time. "I…I…don't know what to say," she managed finally.
"Say, yes."
Shaking her head, the Baroness said regretfully, "I can't. As much as I'd like to. Jason…he doesn't…well, he doesn't feel the same way he once did."
The King's reaction was not what she expected. He burst into laughter. "My dear child!" he exclaimed. "Even a blind man can see my son adores you. And you him."
Lowering her eyes, Shadra replied, "Surely you're mistaken."
"I doubt it. But if I'm wrong, I promise, I won't press the issue. In fact, if you so desire, you can tell him yourself as soon as he returns."
"And when will that be?"
"According to his latest communication, he's hoping to have things in hand in under a month's time."
"If he comes back at all," Shadra sighed heavily. "I understand he came across the Doctor while he was at the Institute."
"You don't miss a thing, do you?" Aaron remarked, receiving a self-conscious smile in return. In a conspiratorial tone, he went on to say, "Oh, he'll be back, don't you worry. I took the precaution of sending a formal thank you to the Doctor and inviting him and his companions to be my guests here on Tel-Shye." Holding up the communication he had just received, he added, "And I'm happy to report, the Doctor has accepted."
Knowing the Master's way of dealing with loose ends was to kill them, the Doctor and his companions had searched the Institute for survivors following the destruction of the transference unit. Prince Jason's skills as a Healer had once again proved invaluable during this time. Before outside assistance arrived, he set about treating the staff members, who had been needlessly brutalized before being imprisoned by the Master's subjugated security force. Jason found it ironic that he was suddenly utilizing the very ability that had brought him to the Institute in the first place, and on the very people who had been tested him with the most sterile, unemotional, scientific coldness he had ever encountered. A coldness that seemed to melt away in the care of the gentle mannered Alterran.
The Doctor's companions had done what they could to help, Tegan assisting the Doctor in organizing and destruction of paperwork while Turlough attached himself to Jason. For reasons he could not define himself, Turlough had taken an immediate liking to the Prince, which for him was highly unusual. Trust in others did not come easily, yet he found the unassuming Alterran easy to talk to, the friendship growing stronger with each passing day.
When assistance finally arrived, Jason announced he would be accompanying his friends to Tel-Shye rather than wait for a transport. Turlough could not have been more delighted when he heard this, as it would give him ample opportunity to press him for information on his previous exploits with the Doctor, which had been during the Time Lord's more eccentric fourth incarnation.
Turlough was reflecting on everything that had happened while Jason finished a lengthy entry in one of his well-worn notebooks. They were in the Alterran's old room in the TARDIS, which was as unconventional as its previous occupant. Turlough's initial impression had been that it looked like a combination of a bedroom, library, ultramodern laboratory, and medieval apothecary. There were row upon row of exotic herbs and chemical compounds in clear glass jars (each carefully labeled and catalogued) positioned on shelves that would easily have blended into the trappings of any medieval alchemist. Of course, Jason had more practical uses for his collection than turning lead into gold. Along with his skills as a Healer, he was also an herbalist and adept chemist, the latter of which he modestly conceded was true only because he liked playing with all the little bottles.
Finishing his entry at last, Jason put the book aside and turned to see his friend examining his elaborate collar of rank, which he had tossed on the bed. "Well? What do you think of it?" he asked finally.
"I think it's very heavy," came the honest reply. "You don't really have to wear this thing all the time, do you?"
"No," the Prince laughed, taking the collar and putting it on. "I wore it all the time at the Institute because they expected it. Along with these clothes. The illusion wouldn't've worked otherwise. Normally this is worn during official functions, and Iwear jeans." Pausing, he added thoughtfully, "I do like this cape, though." He turned in spot to make his point, the cape swirling around him.
Turlough laughed as the Alterran then made a dramatic exit, his cape billowing behind him. They made their way through the twisting corridors of the TARDIS, heading, more or less, in the direction of the console room, chatting contentedly as they went.
In her own room, Tegan was preparing for their stay on Tel-Shye. When the King's invitation arrived, she had pleaded with the Doctor to accept, his hesitancy puzzling and annoying her. They had been through a number of hair raising adventures of late—too many in her opinion—and she did not think it unreasonable to want to spend time in a friendly place.
What the occupants of the TARDIS did not know was the Doctor's arrival on Tel-Shye would set into motion a plot that would stretch the limits of their friendship with one another and severely test their loyalty to the Doctor himself.