A/N:
Thanks to Robin Moto, My Reflection, and ck16 for the reviews.
Ah…
TARDIS? Oh yeah, they will have to go get the Doctor's ship. He
won't leave without it (you know that). Um… Something's gonna
happen to force them in to having to "make a mad dash" yeah. I
blame a random mutant plot bunny.
My beta
says I should have the skiff fall on top of Johns and be busted by
his hard head, lol. But yes, he's digging himself a very deep hole
here. Could it be the morphine?
Most
people that meet the Doctor are not aware of the "translation"
that comes from him (or the TARDIS) because they all speak the same
language. There are folks noticing it here and being puzzled by it
but they have so much more on their minds… like people eating
natives and getting caught in the dark.
As for
what happened to Simon… If River is ever going to leave the
Doctor's side there is going to have to be someone else filtering
for her. Better for it to be Simon, as he won't leave her anyhow.
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 cross-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-Four
Gauntlet
Everything that could be run on the power cells or backup generators had been switched over during the twilight 'night' of the partially blocked blue star. The lights were brought in to a more centrally located arrangement with leaders heading off to the restrooms and the skiff. The white sheets were hung to help with reflection of the ambient light. The outer doors and windows became places to avoid.
At the moment when sunrise should have happened, the twelve survivors gathered at the table. Imam and the pilgrims thought that they should attempt to reach the Doctor's box. Paris remained neutral. Johns was set against it. In the brief few hours of sunlight the day would bring, the survivors would have made it half way to their goal, as such the Doctor refused to risk it. He hated to agree with the merc, but it was pointless to be caught out in the desert, with a non-working vehicle, when the eclipse struck. Fry and Simon looked to the Time Lord and saw that he didn't believe they could make it in time. Riddick suggested that instead they devote the sunlight to strengthening their spirits because once it was gone it would be gone for a very long time.
So they watched for the first rays of the yellow sun's brave attempt as it fought to cast its rays against the little yellow rocky world. They knew that this day would bring darkness as the sun was chased and swallowed by the luminous rings and a dark shield of the gas giant world. As the light came they threw open the Hanger doors, inner and outer, and gathered on the runway or the doorway and absorbed those last few hours of sunshine, for once not working feverishly, because they knew now that it made no difference. They would be stuck here until the skiff was done, and it was better to take the time to pay homage to their protector one last time than to ignore it and have regrets later. Imam led them, all but Johns, in prayer. Even the Doctor and Riddick were respectful although they didn't actually join in the repeating the words.
The Time Lord stood focused on his ship, hand clutched around the key, mentally screaming for her to respond and come to him. In response he received a sweet mental whisper, and a definite refusal. She was unharmed. He was unharmed. And if he really thought about it, there were ways to get to her, even after darkness fell. She challenged him to come up with one. She could be so very stubborn, mule-like stubborn, sometimes.
For once it was Richard that steadied and grounded the Doctor and not the other way around. The large but skilled hand that settled on his shoulder eased the tension away. Neither man said anything as the watched the shadows shorten, the shimmering bands climb ever closer to the star that still gave them light, and the desperate prayers of the others looking for a absent higher power to help them.
Both know that they should be doing something, but they are reluctant to look away from the sunshine, the last they will see here for a very long time. It's the ex-ranger's presence that causes the Doctor to see the TARIS's actions in a new light. Even though Simon is ready to leave, the con has not yet learned everything he's meant to learn. They can't leave yet. He lets the key go, allows it to settle back into his pocket. The decision to stay prompts his tapestry of choices to rearrange. Suddenly he can see only one way off this planet. It angers him that he's been cornered into this. No matter what he does, people are going to die here. Some of them have been living on borrowed time since the crash.
He really hates knowing that.
The rings of the giant planet caught up to the yellow sun just before noon, casting the entire world into ruddy twilight. The red star never made it out from behind the dark and light bands leaving them tinged bloody red throughout the morning. Paris is the first to realize that they shouldn't be outside once the light fails while the others are totally mesmerized by the eerie sound of countless voices screeching out their joy at the freedom from the light, "I do believe we should be inside." He manages to get to his feet and back away as the noise coming from the canyon grows. Off that way another darkness, like smoke, is pouring from the spire-tops. The misty cloud forms waves, ropes, and eddies as countless hatchlings dance, with mass intelligence, through the sky, squealing in delight. He backs slowly toward the hanger not once removing his eyes from the eerie sight.
"Jesus, how many can there..." murmurs Johns from the inner doorway.
The living gravity-defying soot keeps rising, filling the deep ruddy sky with thick ripples of dark and darker. Mercifully for the survivors as most of them remain kneeling or siting, spellbound, twisted to watch the black forms against the deep orange-brown sky, the hatchlings are too caught up in their new freedom to be hunting. The bulk of them are moving away from the Hanger. "Allah..." whispers Imam. One flowing branch cleaves from rest -- and gracefully twists through the air until it is heading their direction.
"Just a suggestion, but perhaps we should be moving inside," the art dealer says again.
This time they listen; Fry ordering, "Come on, into the hanger, let's go!" everyone scrambled to their feet and began snatching up various items of worship before heading in a fast clip to the doors.
The wave of hatchlings speeds their way. River reaches the door, one arm full, the other dragging Paris. Riddick is waiting to close the outer portal, but won't if there are people still outside. The pilgrims must gather up their rugs and their books, and they scoop them up in a mad rush. Fry skids to a halt at the Doctor's side; then Simon and Jack arrive. Imam is urging Ali to hurry, finally resorting to grabbing the boy, "The rug is not as important as your life, child." The sharp black cloud is close enough now for them to hear the clicking of their teeth and claws as they snap at the flowing cloth. Abu passes the Doctor with Hassan and Suleiman on his heels. The Time Lord raises his sonic screwdriver, and it, with an intense buzz, forces the hatchlings to swerve away.
They scream with anger as the tiny metallic tube with a pinprick burn on the tip in that pale hand cheats them from their meal. The Doctor tugs the docking pilot back as he steps inside the outer hanger door. Not until the metal hits the floor with a clang does he lower the device. Soon after there's the pelting sound of a thousand tiny claws trying to cut their way into the Hanger on the main entrance. The survivors back further into the enclosed space. Hassan and Imam push the inner doors closed as soon as they are all clear. It is only after, that Johns says from his position inside a patch of blue glow, "And so it begins."
Beyond this are deeper clicking, larger wails, and the sound of crumbling dirt. Fry looks to Riddick as the sound builds, "What is it? That noise? What's happening?" Because thus far the only thing she's encountered have been the little ones.
River whimpers. Simon drops the implements and bowls that he'd grabbed from the prayer circle and encloses Mei-Mei in his arms.
"Like I told you. Ain't me you gotta worry about," Riddick replies.
The Tam scion swallows, "The adults are emerging from the burrows." Through his little sister he can feel them, climbing, digging, launching, and soaring through the cooling air, ready to hunt and eat. Searching for the red blood that they have found so appealing.
Outside the gas giant's bulk overtakes both suns. The world goes dark. Howls of glee fill the air.
"Quiet, please. Everyone," says Imam as he listens to the sounds through the doors. The others pile up alongside him their ears tuned like radar. Clicking in waves sweeps over the outer door and echoes between it and the inner one.
Jack whispers, "Why do they do that? Make that sound?"
Abu thinks and then replies, "Perhaps, it is the way they see. With sound, reflecting back."
"Echo-location. That's what it is..." Paris says.
Carolyn Fry is shaking. After all she's done, all she's struggled with, the drive to live that has caused her to make such bad choices, she's reduced to a frightened child faced with phantoms that are all too real. What if the doors aren't strong enough? What if the roof isn't? What if the light fails? She is so tired.
"So. Now what?" Suleiman asks.
"What is that doohickey you used to drive off the hatchlings?" Johns cuts in. He sounds accusing again, but was careful to not actually voice it.
Imam steps in, "Let us gather around the table and eat. We need clear heads and empty bellies don't lend themselves to such things."
Instead of answering the marshal's question the Doctor steps up to the hotplate and begins the process of cooking. Simon and River step in to assist him, equally quiet. The three seem to function as an extension of each other, to Johns' way of looking at it. As if there isn't enough fucked up things going on here, now there's this. He looked over at Sir-Shiv-a-Lot, "What is that gizmo he used to force the hatchlings back?"
"How should I know? Some sonic toy of his, I suspect. Maybe if you help out with the table or something you'll actually get fed this time," Richard replies as he and Carolyn began to set the table. Johns makes a face and takes the stack of silverware that Fry is holding. He sets out the place-settings.
Jack and Ali fetch water from the reclamation unit now functioning on battery power for both the meal and the cleanup after.
Paris settles one of his antique vases in the center of the table filled with paper flowers that the boys created from an activity book when they were trying to stay out of the adults' way.
Soon there's a hot meal on the table with water, wine, and tea to drink. Even Johns is included, which is a first in over a day. After a short prayer food is passed around and quiet talk starts up in scattered conversations. It's hard to act as if everything is normal when there are creatures lusting after your blood just outside the door.
"How soon can the skiff be ready?" Paris asks from across the table.
"Don't know. River's been double-checking my work, and what she's found hasn't been promising. I need to take a break from it and get more than two hours of sleep," Fry replies.
"Then by all means, do so. Dr. Tam, do you have anything that can help Carolyn get some rest?" Imam inquires
"A small glass of wine wouldn't be amiss, actually."
The docking pilot makes a face as Paris pours her a glass. At the far end of the table the boys chatter on about the creatures, oblivious to the nightmare inducing reality of the situation, as of yet. To them it's all too surreal.
Off at the other end of the table, feeling dizzy and disconnected, the Doctor sipped his tea, played with his food (what little of it he'd taken), and let everything just wash over him. It's been over two weeks since he's touched his ship. It's been over two weeks since he slept. His eyes drift over the group, and settle on the one thing keeping him here. The con is silently watching his blue-eyed-devil.
Johns pushes away his empty plate and drains his glass. He leans back, "I thought you said the rough wiring was done this morning because you had six hands working on it, Fry."
"That doesn't mean you can just slap in the 160 gigs of power and go, Johns. One loose connection and the entire system will burn out like a string of firecrackers," Carolyn says before she yawns. "I'm gonna get some sleep. I've been burning the midnight oil so long that I don't even remember what it feels like to be not tired." The blonde pushes away from the table and sets her dishes beside the slink.
Its exactly what Paris has been telling Johns the entire time. He expects the marshal will ignore Fry's words just as his own were. "Who's doing the dishes?" asks Imam.
The pilgrims jump up and begin gathering dirty plates and bowls and moving over to the sink. For a change, Rich lets them do it. His mind is too busy trying to figure out what the merc is planning.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Almost everyone decided to follow Carolyn's example and try to rest. Maybe it's the being inside yet another set of walls, behind another layer of doors and sharp spikes, bathed in light even though they want to sleep, that is the attraction. Maybe it's the need to stay together. Even the Doctor settled down into his cot, the first time anyone can recall him using it ever. Riddick makes like he's sleeping, but he's really standing guard, without the standing part.
But Johns mumbled something about not being tired, wanting to read the manuals, to try helping out for a change, and no one bothered to call him on it. Thus the redhead is out at the table reading the manuals for the engines of the skiff. He moves over and began comparing the diagrams to the real thing. It sure looks finished to him. Why can't the engine check be run? How much damage can a single power cell do? He'd guess not much. There's no extra info about output or input in the guide.
As long as the merc doesn't do anything stupid, Rich is willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Every other time when he's needed a wild card, Johns has pulled one for him. He's sure hoping that this is the case now. Otherwise he'll kill the man, slowly.
River wanders past Richard's cot and climbs up into the Time Lord's. The gent doesn't respond to her presence, and she doesn't try to wake him, choosing to curl up against his side and to hold his large hairless hand in her own. Riddick studies the pair. It's like a father and a daughter; the way River acts toward the alien. He smiles slightly at them and worries the sweater with his thumb.
Johns thinks, yes he does. He double-checks everything, makes sure it is right. Stops and has a hit to make sure his brain is functioning before he tries anything, even. He reads the manual again, looks over the instructions for running an engine check. And then he pauses and thinks some more.
They have seven hours of blessed restful not quite silence. Riddick is first aware of the rain when it starts, and that drowns out the relentless clicking screeches that had been faintly filling the air.
Rain. It's raining. There's nothing wrong with the connections, no reason why to not do an engine check, Johns thinks. He hates the rain. Reminds him of home. It was always raining there. Besides if the engine check works they'll be that much closer to leaving, right? He turns and re-hooks the power cell to the system, not realizing that there's a converter sitting right next to the loose wires that should be used. He straightens up and toggles the power on.
Suddenly there's a sparking pop followed by flickering light and heat and the smell of burning wire insulation. Riddick springs to his feet, along with the Doctor and Simon, both of which must be very light sleepers. The Tam scion pauses to grab his bag while both the other two dash out into the main area of the hanger. The Doctor does not pause, heading right for the smoldering vehicle. Richard grabs fire retardant and follows on his heels. It's a matter of seconds before a coughing Johns is pulled from the skiff, and the inside is slathered in smothering foam.
The Doctor is livid, "Just what, in Rassilon's name, did you do?" He shakes the redhead like the merc is a rag doll. "Never mind, I already know. You didn't use the converter, did you?"
"What converter? I didna see no converter!" Johns coughs out.
"Such a stupid, selfish child." He flings the merc away.
William Johns stumbles but manages to keep his feet. Instead of coming up with a retort he pulls his gun, but by the time he has it raised he's facing that blue tipped silver gadget. "Oh, yeah? Will it stop bullets?"
"Billy," Riddick warns.
Simon has frozen over by the table and is just watching the events unfold.
"Fuckin' lay off, trash-baby," the merc waves the weapon the con's direction. There's a short burst of piercing hum and a faint metallic clicking. Johns does not notice.
"Put the gun down, Johns. You got no fuckin' idea what you are dealing with here," Riddick tries again. The Doctor's face is set in stone, hard and angered. This time he won't give the man a warning about the gun backfiring.
The marshal finally looks at the dark blue eyes of the man opposing him and shudders. The gun wavers. He shivers again, the weapon shaking now. All he can see is the harsh lined face and hazel green eyes of his dad, fresh from the mines where he worked after a twenty hour shift, ready to beat the living crap out of whoever he can catch just for the hell of it.
"Put it down, boy. Now." Even the Doctor's words echo what his father would say.
It's a fight, mentally, for Johns to not just drop the gun and retreat in tears. He's not sure where he is for a moment, nor who it is in front of him. Rain. It's raining. He can smell it, and hear it. Just like at home. He could never raise a weapon against his father, even to save himself from the abuse. Instead he lowers the gun and does not resist when a large bronze hand takes it from him.
Riddick keeps half an eye on the quivering redhead as he takes the pistol apart and pockets the bullets. The gun practically falls to pieces once he has the handle separated from the barrel because of the Doctor turning his sonic screwdriver on it anyhow. Just great, leave it to Johns to choose now for a breakdown.