A/N: Whoot! Reviews! :-D
Glad to see you're still reading and still thinking, My
Reflection, ck16, and Robin Moto. Thank you very much.
The
sandstorm started out as just a 'what would it look like if…'
thing (but I can't tell you the details, plot you know) that took
on a life of its own. But yes, having the entire solar system locked
into a line for 3-14 years is bound to have some impact on the planet
in the middle.
River's
sight… the hues are indeed indicative of aura, personality, and
dominant mood. I've tried to assign colors and shapes that, to me,
fit my understanding of the characters. Also it's elemental,
sorta. The Doctor is blue (water), Simon is whitish (air), Riddick
is bronze, gold, and brown (earth), and Johns is red (fire). Note
that River has a very difficult time with her opposing element.
Johns
is, if you take the time to really look at his character, very
mentally strong-willed. He's also quick-witted and very, very good
at tracking down prison escapees like Riddick. His record before
this point is 17 for 17, and the only quarry that has given him
problems is the one he knows the best. That he's an egotistical
bastard is another issue aside.
It's 2517. Something in the past has prompted humanity to explode out from their home world. Could the events of 2164 be responsible? Was Earth a myth or was it real? In fleeing Earth-that-Was, humanity scattered to the stars across the galactic arm. Initial survey teams targeted likely planets and systems for habitation and not all of them ended up on the same side of the sector. Blue Sun exists on one side, separated by a patch of 'wild space' filled with exotic binary and triple star systems, from the rest of civilized space. Few ships brave the route. But luck has it that one ship is. It's a ghost run, the only contact that the two sides have. Port of Departure: Eavesdown Docks, Persephone. Mixed Sino-Anglo culture. Port of Call: Tangiers-5. Darkside. Mixed Islamic-Anglo culture. Crew complement: Four. Passengers: Forty. Living 'Cargo': Two.
So what happens when a passenger by the name of Dr. Simon Tam and his cargo get on the wrong ship? And just how is this related to the TimeWar?
Doctor Who / Firefly / Riddick X-over.
Features Doctor 9, Pre-"Rose"; Simon and River Tam, Pre-"Serenity" Firefly episode 1 and the cast of Pitch Black…
Doctor Who and the Great Eclipse
Part Twenty-Two
Transmutation
The Doctor knows time is running out. He can feel it in his bones on a level that can't even be described. The possibilities lay before him like a selection of tapestries, each on depicting a maze of horrors and death that exist should he misstep even a little. Every decision alters his selection, discarding and reshuffling them, changing their order. It's always been like this, only before he could see the next life waiting in the distance like a safety net. But that is gone now, and all he sees in his own future is blackness and the unknown. Time shadowed until right before he needs to make a decision.
This is what it was like for other Time Lords, those who couldn't see past their current regeneration. He'd not known until his last life what this felt like, to be making blind decisions and hoping that the next selection was better than the last not worse. Like all his forgotten kin, he's blessed, or cursed, with an intimate awareness of every second that passes. But unlike them he refuses to be paralyzed by the possibilities that his choices will be the wrong ones. It's on this assumption that he's been working, that this choice to stay and help these people was the right one to make even if it leads to some of them following paths in the future that they might not otherwise have followed if he'd not interfered.
It's been twelve days. Twenty-five sunrises. They don't have much time left before the hunger escapes from its underground burrows. This 'morning', which is mid-day, the wind seems less stalwart, although the flickering light still indicates blowing sand. He's feeling trapped like most everyone else here is. On top of the ensnared feeling there is a pressing need building in him to retrieve his ship. He misses her with a longing that rips him up inside. She's been very quiet, giving him the space to work with the Tam siblings for which he's grateful, but sometimes he needs her to balance him, to bleed off the excess energy that builds in his system as a golden mist that would destroy even him given time. He needs her. He's always needed her. So now that he can't get to her, he feels antsy and snappish. The longer he's apart from her the less the key helps him cope with being away.
Why he hadn't insisted that they get her before the storm hit? He couldn't fathom his total ignoring of this now urgent desire. He hated being separated from her for any length of time. Anything over a week without at least touching her side was nearly impossible for him to cope with. Now it had been far longer than a week. The Time Lord suspected that the oversight had more to do with the TARDIS making sure that he stayed than anything else did. Blasted stubborn old girl.
He settles the last of seven cryo-lockers into its place and begins bolting it in. There's an eighth locker, but it is set up as shelves for the tanks of cryo-drugs and the power cells, which don't fit back into the same place as the originals. Two of the cryo-boxes are those the crew used, chosen so that the computer's data would read on the inside of the plexi-glass door. The other working five are standard passenger lockers.
Although the skiff is nearly ready, there really should be a week's worth of testing for loose connections and mistakes. Lives could depend on it. He has a feeling though that somehow those tests won't get run. Carolyn ambles up the gangplank and peeks inside, "Wow. Tight fit." She looks like she hasn't slept in days. Her clothes are loose on her thin frame showing she hasn't been eating either. Her blonde hair is a mess, needing a brushing and perhaps a good washing in hot water too.
Looking up at her with concern, the Doctor replies, "Yes. But at least those leaving will have a chance."
"Won't be me. I'll stay. Let one of the others live. That's fair, don't you think?"
The kneeling man narrows his startlingly deep blue eyes, "Carolyn. That's noble, really, but they are going to need a pilot." His selections rearrange showing that she's made her choice, and if anyone has to be left behind she is staying.
"Johns can pilot. He's good enough." She can read his questioning look, but can tell that he is going to let it drop. It's like he knows she can't be moved from her decision.
The possibility is that none of this will work anyhow. The majority of his selections are showing the skiff sputtering on takeoff or going up in a massive fireball. But there are a few that tell him the skiff might get people off this planet and to safety. He needs to eliminate the bad selections and tip his 'cards' to the possible good ones. Tiptoeing through a minefield would be easier. "This should be finished soon. Another four days for the engine work and it will be ready to soar. I want you to go get a few hours of sleep, Carolyn. You are in no condition to work on the engines right now."
Fry starts to protest but can't keep from yawning.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Richard had been doing his best, damn it all, to avoid the alien without making it seem like he was avoiding him. It was finding the gent's forest green, very soft, thin sweater folded under his military issue pillow that had driven home how much the Doctor realized about his 'addiction'. Not that the con had returned the bit of knitwear, or anything. It still sat under his pillow. He found he could sleep with it there. It was less embarrassing than having to stalk the man. The con had gone so far as to discover locations around the Hanger where he could work that seemed to collect the gent's scent, where the fans blew the air away from the skiff where the Doctor spent most his time. He tried to sit downwind of the man when they ate too. Fuckin' annoying, this constant need. But he found that fighting it was too much effort.
Every opportunity he could offer, he would wash the dishes. He kept track of the Doctor's plate, silverware, and cup. Sometimes, when others weren't looking he would switch them with his own next time around. Not that anyone would care. But his food and water seemed sweeter that way, like the taste of the man clung to everything he touched. Obsessive. He couldn't help himself. But he didn't dare risk opening that door any further than it already was. He didn't dare try to figure out why he was doing what he was doing.
Working with River or Simon helped a little, almost as though the Doctor was infusing them with whatever it was that the con craved. It was too weak to satisfy totally, but it lessened the drive to do something rash. So he tried to be nice to the two kids, to make them understand that they were safe around him. He'd likely go off on anything that tried to harm them in any way without a second thought. Besides, Simon had done him a good turn, more than once, and he was determined to repay him for his benevolence. And he just plain liked the girl; she had an odd, sharp, and biting wit that amused him.
Fry walked back into the 'safe zone' comprised of the inner walls and crates offset with sharp points layered to created the most protection. With a heavy sigh she settled onto her cot and scrubbed her eyes. The Doctor had sent her back to sleep, seeing as she'd not even lain down before. Problem was, every time she closed her eyes she remembered trying to jettison the passenger bay, her conversation with Johns, and his later retort. She looked over at Riddick. His goggles were off, the lights here being flicked to the 'sleep' position; his form was relaxed, booted feet propped up on the frame's back end. His arms cushioned his head under his pillow. She could see something dark tucked under one bronze elbow, "Is you mattress stained?"
"Wha'? Oh. That. Nope." He doesn't seem inclined to explain.
She made a face at him; "Well you sleep ok, so I suppose you've found somethin' to keep the demons at bay." Slowly she forces herself to relax against the mattress.
He rolls over and props himself up on one arm, pulling the thin v-neck top out with the other, "It's a sweater, Fry. See?"
She half-mimics his position and studies the deep green cloth, "A rather nice one, too. About your size, if you like them fitted. Maybe the sleeves are a bit long." She is wondering where he got it, because she doesn't remember seeing anything like it.
Leaning toward her, he lowers his voice into a whisper, "It's the Doctor's." Then he does something unexpected, "Smell it."
She swings back to a sitting position and leans over to catch a sleeve. She doesn't try to take it away from Rich, but she does put the soft knit to her nose and takes a whiff of the faint sweet rich scent that clings to it in spite the fact that Riddick has had it under his pillow. "You know, I just realized – he smells like honey."
The silver-eyed man chuckles, "Yeah."
"I'll never be able to eat the stuff again without thinking of him," she shivers slightly even though it's quite warm. "So why do you have it?"
He shrugs, "It's different. Makes me calm. Be thankful I do have it, Carolyn. Otherwise I would have gone for Johns already."
"That I understand. I'm surprised I haven't snapped on him. You think the Doctor is keeping us from each other's throats, Rich? I mean, every time things get to be too much, he's there. Like magic."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Outside, the wind was silent. It was like the planet decided to take a breath and be still for a moment. Midmorning and the shadows have fled for just a little while, letting the sun back in like a tease.
Abu rolls open the main hanger doors and takes a deep breath of the 'fresh' air. Then he turns and calls for Hassan and Suleiman to help him push the 'cat out so it can recharge. He knows that the Doctor wants to head down the crash scar and pick up his 'box'. A short while later a single trailer is brought out and attached to the 'cat. He's eager to take a little trip and get away from the hanger for a bit. Twelve days inside is enough to test even his resolve.
Fry is toiling with the engine of the skiff and insisting that there's only room for one to labor on it. Since the box is heavy, Riddick, Imam, the Doctor, Johns and the older two pilgrims are going. Jack and Ali protest until Paris reminds them that there are buildings they have yet to salvage in the settlement. Simon chooses to stay behind with River who is reading different manuals about the skiff's systems and indirectly helping the blonde by directing her repairs through suggestions. The power cells for the skiff are still locked up, and with Abu going on this venture Johns knows the skiff will still be there when they return.
They load up and head out. The path they follow takes them back through the canyon, through the boneyard, across the spired hills, but not to the crash site. The Doctor seems to be following a route that only he knows across the alien landscape.
It's mid afternoon when the 'cat comes to a halt above the edge of the crash scar. There's a sight that makes them all lean back like the 'cat itself is going to be sucked in. All but the Doctor who nearly flies out of the vehicle, "Oh – no." He is too distraught to even get anything else out. In front of them is a huge sinkhole that has pulled the entire middle of the crash scar into darkness below the surface. One wan hand comes up over the alien's mouth as he processes the dilemma. More than a hundred square feet of the surface has dropped into the hollow below. My TARDIS is down there. If anything, even more color drains from his already pale skin.
Richard scrambles out of the 'cat. He doesn't know what the box is but he does know that it is quite important to the man. Important enough for him to act totally out of character. The ex-ranger has never seen the Doctor so upset before. His impulse is to ground the gent, to make him see that the box isn't they only thing he needs to think about here. He steps up and reaches for the leather-clad arm. "Whoa, Doc," says Riddick, grabbing that arm with a strong grip so that the Time Lord doesn't try something extremely stupid. The con is alarmed further by the fact that the Doctor does not react to being called 'Doc'. Something about that box is very, very vital to him.
Johns shakes his head, "Gone. Hope it wasn't too important."
Now it's a good thing that the ex-ranger has a hold of him, the Doctor thinks, or he'd throw the pigheaded flame-haired man down that hole, "Not important? It might have saved our lives. But I suppose that isn't all too pressing at the moment, is it, marshal?" Richard can feel a tingle in his fingers through the leather that he can only classify as rage, not anger, not being pissed off, but elemental fury of a sort that he's never felt in another before. He tightens his grip.
Abu steps in; "Perhaps a flare and the scope will help us locate it?"
"Fuckin' waste of time and resources, Father. Let's get the hell back to the skiff and get the fuck off this planet," William says, completely oblivious to the danger he's in.
"Give the man a flare and your scope, Billy."
"Fuck you, Rich," Johns walks back to the 'cat but can't drive the thing. He climbs into the back and waits.
The merc has now angered two of them. But unlike the Doctor, Riddick is used to feeling this way about his blue-eyed-devil. It might not be the best of things to just strangle him though. The con closes his eyes and counts to ten, slowly, in Chinese. The alien's emotions are boiling hot, a stark contrast to how he normally comes across. Catching the Doctor's eyes, he says, "Let me deal with him. Just give me a minute." The man looks away with a snort. Rich reaches over and turns the Doctor's face toward his own. "Try your key, huh? And don't just jump in after it." Trust me.
The alien's expression calms slightly and he nods once Rich moves his hand away. Abu steps in; "It will work out. Have faith." The Doctor slipped his key off and began trying to call the ship up to him with it, but is instead getting a directional pull down and diagonal to the right. Stubborn ship. He's not sure how Riddick does it but the con comes back with the scope and a flare. "I believe it should be that way," Imam says, looking at the pull on the key.
The ex-ranger pops the flare and gives it a hard throw then pulls the scope out. After a moment he says, "Is that it?" while handing the scope to the Doctor.
The TARDIS is sitting at a slight angle, surrounded by dirt just on the edge of the flare's glow. She looks well dusted but unharmed otherwise. "Yes." Unfortunately there's no way to even get to it to hook up a drag cable. And the shadows are moving with ravenous intent. "We'll have to come up with a plan."
"We've got a day yet. Let's go back to the hanger and figure out what gear we have that we can use to get it out."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
By sundown-sunrise it was clear that Johns was not going to help at all. He locked himself into the office shortly after they arrived back and was not responding to any attempts to get him out. The Doctor refused to be concerned about him, refused to open the lock, and refused to bother making him a plate of food even. Enraging the Doctor wasn't going to prove to be one of the merc's smarter moves.
Riddick, Simon and River put their heads together and try to take stock of the gear they have. It consists of some makeshift items that pass as caving gear, lights, cable, and pickaxe. There's a solar powered wrench and hitch that they can tow out to the hole too.
The problem is, even if they can get to the box they aren't sure about getting it out. River looks at the Doctor whose frothing deep blue-black clouds look very much like violent storm driven danger signs at the moment and tells the others, "We don't need to get it out. We just need to get to it." The Time Lord's rage seems tightly controlled, but it's ready to overflow at any moment.
It's Jack that comes up with a solution, "Why don't you just use the wrench line as a climbing guide? Load up on lights, or maybe use something as a mirror to reflect light down there to keep the creatures back and just climb down?" It's simple and child-like in its idea. But simple might just be the way to go here.
They can do it if they have the time. They have trailers with beds that can be sanded down to the metal. Raising and lowering the angle to get the reflection right might take two flat , shiny planes, so they have to take one trailer apart. The ex-ranger smirks at the kid, "Why not? It's a pretty good idea Jack." He puts a hand on the boy's head and rubs it back and forth. "Come on, let's see if we can do this." It's gonna be a race against time. The solar powered sanders are put to use, while Riddick makes a frame to put the polished metal surfaces into. Even Ali and Jack are allowed to help. If they can beat the eclipse to the Doctor's box they will. If not then they'll figure something else out.