Chapter 9 – Pilot Mel
Notes: Now we get to see some of that shiny piloting that Glitz was so proud about! Warning: SPOILER for Torchwood, and I think you can guess it. Also an Xmen ref, and a "Paradise Towers" ref, and can anyone guess how I compiled that code Mel used? Cookies if you get it.
Ooo---oOo---ooO
Martha stared at the gun.
The gun stared back at her, the empty barrel like a vacant eye. As if in slow motion, she watched it swing slightly upwards to level with her head.
Martha had wondered sometimes, when she got into one of her contemplative moods, what it would be like to know that, between on heartbeat and another, your life would just cease. Now she knew.
She suddenly found herself aware of her body, her senses heightened to the nth degree. She could feel the adrenalin pumping around her body as she suddenly realized that she was about to die.
The alien's finger tightened on the trigger.
Her whole body froze. She couldn't have moved, even if she wanted to.
Then, suddenly, everything seemed to snap back into normal speed.
Mel moved forward with the speed of a wolf, grabbing K'ran's arm that held the gun and aiming the barrel down and away to the ground. The bullet ripped from its confines in a blast of fire and ignition dust and grazed the man's leg as it buried itself into the dirt. K'ran let out a cry of pain, and a second as Mel knocked the gun from his grip. The weapon clattered away over the shipyard floor as the pair wrestled for domination.
Martha shook herself out of her shock and stumbled back, watching the fight with fright and awe. Her hand groped around, found a fair-sized piece of pipe, and she gripped it tightly, biting her lip as her mind worked furiously for a plan.
K'ran shoved Mel away with a punch to the gut. She gasped, doubling over with a grimace of pain. He sneered and moved forward, holding his hand level for a deadly chop to the windpipe.
But he had forgotten about Martha, who brought the pipe down with all the force she could muster on his back. He grunted and staggered, falling to the dirt. Mel grabbed Martha's arm and tugged her back.
"Come on Jones!" She barked, pulling her along, and the two women raced for the shelter of a nearby shuttlepod. They were meant for short trips between the different planets of the Nebati system, built to withstand the constant friction of the lower atmospheres, but not for deep-space travel. It was just as well. Mel didn't plan on doing any deep-space traveling.
The programmer shoved Martha into the airlock doors as K'ran recovered his pistol and fired off a few rounds behind them. Mel slammed her hand onto the door controls and breathed a sigh of relief as the bullets winged harmlessly off the metal surface.
"That should keep him out for a little while at least." She panted, grinning with the thrill of adrenaline in her system.
"What if he decides to get his own shuttle-thingy and blast us to bits while we hide out?" Martha asked weakly, pointing out the cockpit window. Mel turned to look, swearing something particularly unpleasant in a language the TARDIS refused to translate. K'ran had hotwired a skimmer nearby with amazing speed, and Mel could see the weapons pods already powering up and locking onto their position.
"Good point Jones." She climbed into the pilot chair and punched a few buttons, scowling. "Cripes. I really should brush up on my Nebatian shuttle control systems. Power, power, come on, where's the pow – ah HA!"
The hum of the shuttle engines made the craft shake around them as they slowly lifted off the ground, and Mel laughed delightedly. "Now we're in business! Strap in and hang on, Martha Jones! I have a feeling we're in for a bumpy ride!"
Martha scrambled into a seat in the back and tugged the belt straps around her body tight. The pod rolled as K'ran's ship fired off a shot across their bow, and Mel's glee turned serious as she banked the equivalent of a steering wheel to a hard left. The shuttle shuddered and angled into a spiral up and away from the shipyards, and Martha gasped as the inertial dampeners neglected to eradicate all of the G-force, the acceleration tugging her against her straps.
And on their tails, K'ran's skimmer floated up, and joined them in the aerial chase.
Ooo---oOo---ooO
The gunfire in their direction had died down, and Jack surmised that either their assailant was out of bullets, out of patience, or out of his mind and lurking in wait for them like some sadistic spider in a web. He checked the power levels on Glitz's blaster and scowled as the glowing red meter informed him of a feeble 15 capacity left. Jack growled and shoved it back into its holster, turning his attention to his leg.
The Doctor stared open-mouthed in utter shock as Jack poked a finger through the blood-soaked hole, and then ripped his trouser leg open, examining the perfectly healed skin underneath.
"Y'know, I really hate getting shot." Jack groused. "It always makes such a ruin of my clothes. I liked these pants."
The Doctor wasn't sure if he wanted to murder Jack, kiss him, or smack himself into the next regeneration for forgetting his companion's special abilities. He chalked his worry and momentary amnesia up to the heat of the moment, and settled for relieved sarcasm.
"At least it's not yellow spandex, Wolverine." The Doctor chided, hiding his embarrassment and relief behind a mask of annoyance. "You're lucky that wasn't permanent. We didn't exactly have medical supplies on hand."
"Says the man with the entire flea market of Bora-9 in his jacket pockets; you just snark because you're jealous," Jack replied with a smug grin, testing his weight and drawing his gun again, peeking up from their hideout. He could just see the glint of the sunlight off the burnished metal of the thug's gun.
"Guy isn't doing too well at hiding." He remarked, nodding his head towards the tell-tale sign. "I think if I move a bit that way I could clip him -" The agent started to move, but the Doctor grabbed his arm.
"Put it away Jack. I'd rather find another way."
Jack gave him an incredulous stare. "Doctor, he's out for our blood, and you want to talk to him?"
The Doctor grinned lightly. "Why not? I'm known throughout the universe for my ability to prattle. I've talked down Daleks with nothing more then a sonic screwdriver up my sleeve. One gun-toting mercenary is a piece of cake after that."
"I think the sun has made you touched in the head, Doctor." Jack replied tersely, before he blinked. "Wait, sonic screwdriver?"
The two men exchanged a well-duh look, and the Doctor pulled the anachronistic metal tube out of his pocket, fiddling with the settings. He shoved a finger in his ear, cringing as the device began to whine on a frequency just slightly too high for normal humans to hear. Their attacker wasn't a normal human.
"Nebatians can't stand certain frequencies, even the humans who terra-formed the less desirable planets." The Doctor explained, as the pitch of the sonic screwdriver rose, the power boosting to reach a wider range. "It's a bit unpleasant for us, but it drives THEM completely insane!" He grinned manically, a smile Jack echoed with trepidation and his fingers in his ears.
Their effort was rewarded with an anguished howl of pain somewhere near the top of the gully. When they climbed back up the rocks, they found their lone gunman, L'tral, doubled over with his hands clamped over his ears. Taking careful aim, the Time Agent fired, and the red glow spread over the man's body. He shuddered and collapsed to the ground. The Doctor was livid.
"JACK!"
"I set it to stun, Doctor, don't worry. He'll be out for a few hours." Jack holstered the now depleted blaster. The Doctor frowned and relieved L'tral of his pistol, checking the safety and removing the remaining bullets before the gun disappeared into his coat pocket. He paused, tilting his head curiously.
"What's that noise?"
They both glanced towards the settlement, and ducked instinctively as the roar of twin engines passed right over their heads. An interplanetary shuttle, followed in hot pursuit by a Denabian skimmer, with all weapons charged.
Jack stared, and gave an unexpected grin.
"Well, that's something you don't see every day."
Ooo---oOo---ooO
"Turn back!" Martha shrieked, grabbing onto a hanging supply net as the shuttle swerved violently to the side to avoid a volley of laser fire from the pursuing skimmer. "Mel, turn back, that was the Doctor back there!"
"I know, I saw!" Mel replied, grating her teeth as she pulled their small craft into a dive, trying to shake K'ran off their tail. "Little busy at the moment to stop and chat though! Leave your name and number after the beep! Whoa!" The shuttle was thrown into a roll as one of its swept-back drive pods was clipped. It was minimal damage, probably disastrous in the long run, and far too near a shot for her liking. She cursed the lack of offensive systems on board and threw the shuttle into a dime turn that pulled Martha's stomach into her throat.
Mel glanced at the myriad of buttons before her helplessly for a cloaking device of any kind, and found something slightly more promising. She hesitated for only a moment.
"Jones, get up here!" She commanded, pulling their craft out of its death-roll and leveling it straight. K'ran's skimmer was having a harder time turning, and she needed to come up with a plan before he started shooting again.
Well, a better plan then the one she already had in mind.
Or at least a backup plan for the first plan, which was inevitably doomed to fail. Lesson 63 learned while in the company of the Doctor: plan A never works, or at least not in the way you hoped.
Martha scrambled into the passenger seat in the cockpit and on Mel's instruction grabbed what looked like a radio box. "What do I do with it?"
"Frequency TW 2006, zed-zed-alpha 19-89-6-7-10!" Mel chanted, pulling the shuttle into a sharp climb as K'ran's craft shot past them. "If we're very, very lucky…"
Martha tuned the dial and the power crackled to life. "Dare I ask what your plan is?"
"Engines took a hit, they won't last much longer. I plan on taking this son of the Rani down with us." Mel replied succinctly.
Martha stared at her in horror.
Ooo---oOo---ooO
With L'tral secured with a bundle of zip-ties the Doctor had procured from his pocket, the Time Lord and his companion watched the dogfight with alarm. The two ships seemed evenly matched, and neither one was pulling ahead of the other.
Over their heads, the shuttle suddenly swerved, and headed straight for the skimmer. The high pitched scream of engine failure split the air, and the skimmer tried vainly to turn, but the shuttle caught the back end of the drive pods and the skimmer's tail burst into flames.
The Doctor realized what was inevitable a split second before Jack did.
"Jack!" He tugged the man's arm urgently. "Get under cover!"
Grabbing L'tral's jacket, they dragged the unconscious thug into the shelter of a sturdy boulder and ducked for cover as the skimmer hurtled out of control and veered towards the ground, erupting in a violently beautiful fireball.
Jack stared in horror at the smoldering wreckage. "Good god. No one could've survived that."
"I don't think anyone did." The Doctor replied, gazing at the billowing black smoke grimly. Then he turned his attention back to the skies and the shuttle that still circled above.
Jack's wrist computer bleeped and he glanced down at it. "Short range transmat activation?" he muttered curiously. "Way out here?"
The injured shuttle whined its death cry as its pilot tried to level it out for a relatively safe crash, but at the last moment, it bucked its fins sideways and took a header into the rocks, skidding along the desert landscape before slowing to a smoking halt.
Slowly, the Doctor rose from his crouch, and started walking slowly towards the disabled craft. It looked familiar, now that it wasn't hurtling about at full speed. Like one of the shuttles that had been parked near the Star-Striker. There was no sign of life stirring, no battered pilots staggering from the wreckage or movement behind the glass of the cockpit window. In fact, no one was aboard at all.
The Doctor didn't want to say he believed in ghosts, but no autopilot program could've maneuvered in the sky in the way he'd seen, especially not on a shuttle meant for space travel.
Glitz's words echoed back in his head.
"Did I say anything about her actually leaving? Best damn co-pilot I ever had."
"Oh please let me be wrong. Please, please, please…." He muttered, frowning as he climbed onto the twisted wing of the craft, and pulled the stubborn door open, ducking inside. His suspicions were confirmed, and his hearts twisted with dread, as he found Martha's jacket thrown carelessly across the passenger seat.
Mel and Martha had been on board during that aerial battle.
So where were they now?
Ooo---oOo---ooO
"Martha…"
Martha was still shivering, her fingers curled tight into the fabric of Mel's flight jacket. Her eyes were shut tight. She was dead, she had to be dead. She had seen the ground swell to meet them as their engine gave out; her ears were still ringing with the shriek of mechanical death.
"Martha, you can open your eyes now." That was Mel's voice. Mel had done her best to pull them out of the final dive, but in the end, she couldn't pull up fast enough. She had pulled Martha into a hug and punched a button on the controls, and the world had exploded in white. Mel had died too.
"Martha, let go of my jacket. You're not dead, trust me. Open your eyes."
Martha cracked an eye open slowly, and blinked in the bright sunlight. The bleak wasteland landscape stretched before her eyes. The dark pillar of smoke emanating from K'ran's demolished craft was rising into the morning sky barely a quarter of a mile away.
"If there's a God, he has a lousy sense of humor," she remarked hoarsely. Mel laughed softly and disentangled herself from the young woman's grasp.
"Short range transmit beam," she said by way of explanation. "I activated it just before the crash. You alright?"
"I think so," Martha winced, rubbing some feeling back into her knees, "Nothing a long soak in the TARDIS Jacuzzi won't cure."
Mel looked mildly surprised. "I thought that got jettisoned with the pool," she remarked wistfully, earning a surprised look from her companion. She grinned and helped the girl to her feet. "C'mon. I think we'd better find the Doctor and Harkness."
Ooo---oOo---ooO
"Melanie! Martha!" The Doctor called, cupping his hands about his mouth to help the sound carry. He couldn't help but remember that yelling for his companion had kick-started the day with a hail of bullets. He wasn't very amused with the irony of the situation.
"Martha!" Jack roared, his voice bouncing off the canyon walls. L'tral sulked at Jack's side, prodded every so often by the business end of his gun – Jack had conveniently neglected to let the troublemaker know that it was out of power.
"Me-el!"
"Can anyone hear me?!"
"Doctor!"
"Doctor! Jack! Over here!"
The Doctor spun on his heel as he suddenly heard two new voices join the ruckus.
His face split into the biggest grin this side of the Smilodon's home-planet. Martha was sliding down a dune, followed by a battered but exuberantly grinning Mel.
As soon as their feet touched solid ground, they raced towards the two men. Martha laughed breathlessly as she launched herself into the Doctor's waiting arms, and he scooped her up in a tight bear hug.
There was a bare instant's awkward pause, as Mel, a few paces behind her, slowed to a halt. The Doctor had his companion back, and it seemed to cheer them both, but it only put an ache in her chest. He wasn't her doctor anymore, not the one she used to travel with. She started to move away.
It didn't go unnoticed by the Doctor though, who had put Martha's feet back on solid ground after twirling her about. Sliding his current companion into the crook of his left arm, he held his right out for Mel, his eyes lit with a special smile…just for her.
"C'mere you. Think I'd leave you out?"
Mel hesitated; her smile was small at first, and then it grew, until almost seemed to split her face as she flew into the Doctor's arms, clutching him tightly and wrapping herself in his arm. Martha smiled, and slipped out of his grasp, wandering over to Jack.
"Don't I get a hug?" asked Jack in mock-pettishness, but neither of the space veterans heard him. Martha did though, and thumped him on the arm, grinning as she hugged him around his waist. He grinned and returned it warmly. "Good to have you back, munchkin."
"That," said the Doctor into Mel's hair, "is the last time I let Glitz teach you how to drive."