By KimotoCat
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Part 1
"Where to next?"
The innocent question was asked by Tegan Jovanka as she came into the console room and gazed expectantly at the slow but steady rise and fall of the central column, as always as sure an indicator of travel as any passing landscape would be if this werea car.
This, however, was as far from a car as any vehicle could possibly be. The TARDIS, a space and timetravelling craft, belonged to a Time Lord known mostly as the Doctor and even if it, by the standards set on his home world, Gallifrey, was a bit old and quaint, it would be unsurpassable millennia before human kind could ever come close to just comprehending anything like it – much less actually build it.
The Doctor, owner and captain of the vessel, was studying some readouts on the other side of the – relatively – uncomplicated looking console, and at first he didn't even notice that one of his human companions had entered the console room.
"I asked," Tegan huffed impatiently, "where we are going?"
"Hmmm?" The Doctor looked up and blinked a few times. "Oh, well… We'll know in a few moments. Why?"
"Nyssa asked," Tegan said, frowning at him. "As for why, I was just wondering. The last five places we've been have been nowhere near Earth, much less Heathrow or my own time. And there's been anything but those promised lands of endless peaceful beaches or warm tranquil oceans."
"Ah… Yes…" the Doctor muttered absentmindedly as his eyes continued to scan the readouts.
"I'd really like to see Heathrow again, you know," Tegan muttered. "Or even just Gatwick. Heck, any European airport."
"Gatwick?"
"The. Other. Big. Airport. Near. London!" Tegan said slowly, stressing each word carefully. "On. Earth."
"Yes. Gatwick Airport. Right."
"I don't suppose that Gatwick, much less Earth, would be our destination then?"
"Ah… No, probably not."
"Right."
"Actually, I think we have arrived!" the Doctor said, looking for the world as if he didn't intend the landing as a distraction to Tegan's hostility.
"Where are we then?" Nyssa asked, entering the console room.
"I'll have a look," the Doctor bent over the console and switched on the outer view.
The scene was a serene place, viewed from between a few tree trunks. It seemed they had arrived – materialized as the case might be – in a clearing surrounded by bright green trees and dotted with colourful flowers. Something about the way the leaves were gently rustled by an almost imperceptible wind gave promises of sweet fragrances and springtime atmosphere. All in all, it seemed the perfect image for a holiday advertisement and the Doctor looked from the view screen to his two companions, a wide smile plastered all over his gentle features.
"Now, that does not look bad," he beamed at them. "In fact, I'd say it looks quite splendid, wouldn't you?"
"It doesn't look in the least like Heathrow," Tegan grunted, but some of her apprehension seemed to yield before her curiosity.
"Well," Nyssa interjected, "by the looks of it, it could be Earth. Aren't those oak leaves?"
"As a matter of fact," the Doctor replied to her question, "I think they are just that. Perhaps we should endeavour outside to see what else out there may be reminiscent of Earth!"
Without further ado, he took his panama hat and placed it squarely onto his head with a determined air, threw the lever to open the door and briskly ventured outside.
"Don't you just hate it when he does that?" Tegan asked Nyssa as she made to follow him.
"Not as such," Nyssa said, also coming along. "It can be annoying, true, but all in all I find it an endearing part of him."
"Endearing," harrumphed Tegan, stepping through the door and into the warm and definitely spring-like air outside. "Too right."
"Ah, this really is a nice spot of forest," the Doctor said, taking deep breaths and holding out his arms as if to embrace it all.
"Yes, this is very nice," Nyssa agreed and bent down to pick a flower from the rich choice, lifting it to try a whiff. "Warm and beautiful – and this flower has a very delicate smell."
Even Tegan had to admit that this little piece of serene woodland was quite a refreshing experience. They walked for a bit, enjoying the warm breeze and the many-coloured flowers dotting the fertile forest ground and fighting with several species of butterflies for their attention.
Until, that is, they suddenly heard a sharp crack somewhere not far away, immediately followed by a short scream of pain, abruptly cut off, and leaving only an eerie silence in its wake as even the birds briefly held their tongues.
"Hell's teeth, what was that?" Tegan exclaimed, instinctively bending down and staring into the darkness between the trees in search of the source of a sound that sounded very much like a gunshot.
"I don't know," Nyssa said, also staring around wide eyed.
"It sounded very much like a shot," the Doctor muttered, taking in his surroundings in a short glance. "It came from this direction; we'd better go and see what happened."
"Here we go again," Tegan hissed under her breath, but she followed all the same, discretely slipping a hand into her pocket to retrieve the electric tranquilizer gun she had kept as a kind of useful souvenir after a recent adventure on a planet called Honshu II.
"Quiet now," the Doctor admonished, gesturing for the two women to hold back. "If somebody is firing at somebody, they may be inclined to shoot at us too."
"No argument there," Tegan whispered, readying her gun.
"You shouldn't do that," Nyssa whispered, noticing the weapon. "The Doctor doesn't like guns. I don't like guns either."
"I didn't take my knife. This weapon is just a tranquilizer," Tegan whispered back. "Nothing lethal."
"Still…" Nyssa seemed uncertain of what to think.
"It didn't sound as if the shooter used a tranquilizer, so I think I'll take my chances with this, if you don't mind."
"True, but be careful," Nyssa replied. "People with guns tend to shoot at other people with guns."
"Be still, you two," the Doctor said quietly. "I think our unknown quarry is nearby. I can hear –"
"I told you that this would be the end of you all!" a shrill voice bellowed in the otherwise rather silent forest, somewhere further onwards and a bit to the left.
"You can beat me," a coarse voice answered, "but you'll never beat the rebellion!"
"You and your petty rebellion," the first voice sounded amused. "What you seem to be missing, you miserable little twerp, is that I have men posted just south of the Dewarian mountains, just waiting for that pesky little herd of rebels."
This was answered by a silence. Tegan could only guess at the surprise expressed by the person – man? – with the coarse voice as the Doctor carefully moved forwards, beckoning the women to follow and at the same time signalling for them to stay behind him.
"Ah, I can see that this is new to you, you smear of snot!" the shrill voice continued, obviously not the best at making snide remarks. "But you need not worry. You and your wounded comrade will be dead long before the rest of your pathetic gang are swept up and sent to the gallows."
"If you wish to kill me," the coarse voice snapped, "then give me a sword and allow me to die fighting and with honour."
"Honour? Ha! And allow you to decimate my trusted guards? Do you think me a buffoon?" the shrill voice said to this. "No, I am not a nostalgic fool, swayed by old fashioned ways and lured into stupid games so that my enemies even in death can thwart me. You'll die here and now, at the hands of my extremely imaginative executioner."
"Even if mercy is not a trademark of yours, allow me at least to die by the sword as a warrior should," the coarse voice begged, now obviously close by. In fact, as the Doctor carefully pulled at a few branches before them, another clearing came into view. Tegan crept closer, trying to see what was going on.
There were perhaps eighteen men and women in the clearing. About half of them wore tunics marked with a peculiar squareish golden lion shape on black background and brandished various swords and muskets while standing by and watching the people arguing.
A man, clad in a tight and yet rather smart costume entirely in black except for the same golden lion emblazoned on his chest and the shoulder of his cape, was standing with a relaxed hand on the hilt of a huge sword as if using the almost ridiculously broad blade more for support than as an actual weapon. His brown hair was held by a golden band and his entire posture was that of a man in charge.
He was right now leering at two figures on the ground, men clad in brown and green colours of the forest and having their hands tied behind their backs. The one lay on his side, something dark and glistening discolouring his left side and looking very much like blood, though his eyes were open as he glared at the man in black with contempt. The other one was on his knees in front of the black man, bearing himself with almost regal grace even under the obviously dire circumstances.
The last few people, also counting a few women in rich medieval looking gowns, stood to the side, watching the three men with some anticipation.
"You wish to be put to the sword?" the man in the black outfit sneered, his face almost contorting into an obscene attempt at an evil grin. Something about his grimace made Tegan realise that he was quite young, which just might explain the shrill voice. "You just don't seem to listen, do you? The old times are over and your kind is dying out, and as fast as possible if I can help it. With the invention of the musket, new times are upon us and I am seizing the moment, just as you should have done, Asferus!"
"Will you deny me even that?" the man who was called Asferus said, defeat creeping into his voice. For some reason, this seemed to make two of the onlookers smile. "If this is so, then you are right. The days of old are truly over."
"Six of my eight men carry muskets," the black clad man continued. "It will be an excellent training for them to have live targets. Be glad that I offer you a faster death that hanging."
"Oh, yeah, right," Asferus muttered angrily. "I am so happy! Lord Turambar will have me shot. Help me gain my footing and I shall perform a dance!"
"Enough of that," the lord barked. "Men, take these two hooligans and put them against a tree each. Then prepare your muskets while I gloat."
This again made several smiles appear on the faces of those who were not soldiers, as if it was all very amusing.
"He's nuts!" Tegan whispered to the Doctor. "We've got to save them."
"Indeed we do," replied the Doctor just as quietly. "But they outnumber us, so we must think of something a little better than just introducing ourselves and asking them to spare their prisoners, I think."
"You could be right there," Tegan agreed.
"But what?" asked Nyssa. "We have to hurry, before it's too late. Those two young men, they should not be killed like that."
"Most people are too young to die by execution," the Doctor breathed, not looking away from the scene before them. "Now be quiet, I'm thinking."
The soldiers hauled the two prisoners to their feet, even if the wounded man did seem a bit unsteady at first. They then took them to two trees and secured them against the trunks with thick, white rope and stepped back. Six of them were obviously readying their weapons as Lord Turambar stepped over to the prisoners.
"I told you," he snarled, obviously intent on gloating, just as he had said he would. "You and your entire idea of rebelling against my dominion were doomed to failure right from the start!"
"You, Sir, are a scoundrel," Asferus said, gazing defiantly at his adversary. "With me dies the last shred of your dignity, and I am not the only one to know this."
"Who cares about dignity," laughed Lord Turambar. "I am rich and powerful, and when I have dealt with you and your miserable little toad of a cousin, I'll take the rest of Dewar and rape and plunder all the way to the San Jay borders!"
"You, Sir, are an animal!"
"Animals have more fun, you know," Turambar's smile grew wider. "And now, for the entertainment of the day. Men, are your muskets ready?"
"Yes, m'lord," one of the soldiers barked, standing at attention.
Lord Turambar walked away from the two tied men and the soldiers and stopped just a few feet away from where the Doctor and his friends were hiding. "Captain, I shall prefer to enjoy the wailing of the enemy, not the splatters of their blood on my fine clothes," he said nonchalantly. "But do shoot for the legs first before you reload and kill them, won't you? That's a good boy."
The captain nodded to this as several of the bystanders actually sniggered. Then he turned to the six soldiers with muskets. "You heard the Lord Turambar," he barked. "Aim for the legs. You three on Asferus, you three on the other one."
"Doctor!" Tegan breathed. "I have a plan, but we have to act now!"
Knowing that the seconds were ticking towards the end for the prisoners as the soldiers were preparing to fire, she hurriedly instructed the Doctor, who quickly nodded his assent before she proceeded to do it.
"Any last words before you start screaming?" Turambar drawled lazily.
"Only the lowest of men get the blood of their kin on their hands," sneered Asferus bitterly. "But at least I can die knowing that I have tried to stop you, brother!"
"Oh, how brave," leered Turambar. "Our father would be soooo proud, had I not killed him that night in February!"
"That was you?" Asferus cried in horror. "You killed our father too? You… You foul, stinking…"
"Do carry on, dear brother. You may even know a nasty word or two that I have yet to learn."
"I curse you!" Asferus bellowed. "I curse you, by the family name of Frost! Before the end of this year, your blood shall be tainted, and by the end of this decade, your name shall be but a memory of darker times bygone!"
"Silence him!" screamed Turambar, apparently put off by the sudden threat of Asferus' curse. "Captain, do-"
"Do absolutely nothing, captain!" Tegan's voice cut in as she resolutely jumped up, holding her relatively short – but sharp – knife to the throat of Lord Turambar and aiming her electric tranquilizer at the soldiers. "I hold a knife to your leader's throat, and this weapon is more dangerous than it looks. Do as I say or he is the first to die!"
To be concluded in "Heroes" part II