A/N:
Thanks to cdallas who placed this in "Favorite Stories" and on
Story Alert. Wow, you do me much honor. Rena9wolf has added this to
the Squeee! Love! WIP
c2 listing. Whoot! Thank you. Everyone should check out the other
stories there (after reading this of course). Also I want to thank My
Reflection and ck16 for the reviews.
Also
there's a forum just for this Story! Look up TARDIS
Parking under my forum listings found
on my profile and feel free to use the space for some of those odder
notions. I might even post future plans there.
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-Six
Motility
They took their time getting ready to leave, selecting spears, putting on glowing clothing, choosing lights to carry, preparing rations for the trip. Each of them figured out some way to rig a bag with gear, adding extra light to them, even if it meant poking holes and stringing LED bulbs.
Paris looked like a Christmas Tree. He'd added LED bulbs to his hat and his bag. The fiber optics sewn into his sweater hadn't been enough to reassure him, so he carried additional LED's strung around his breather. He was downright colorful.
Johns had almost gone the opposite way, nearly refusing the glowing top or the use of salvaged bulbs on his pack. But then he looked at the others and noticed that every one of them was using the fiber optics, even the Doctor, who had woven a loose vest to slip on over his leather coat. In the end, the merc put on the garish glowing outerwear.
The last of the overhead lights those around the eating area where they spent most of their time getting ready came down. The kid, Jack, needed to be in the middle of the group, as they were all connected to the pack he wore. Each of them had plenty of lead, coiled around arms, wrapped around bodies, or what have you. Riddick and the Doctor were up front, Ali and Jack were in the middle, and the rest of them formed a barrier around the children. Johns choose the back; Paris would likely end up falling behind and into a rear position although currently he was near the side.
"Let's stay together. We all have light, food, and water. It's not far, for our first goal. To the Coring Room," Carolyn rallied.
The inner doors were opened just enough to slip through. "How's it look?" Johns asked from the back.
Clear? Maybe. There were long rents in the main door and water pooling on the floor. Riddick put up a hand and scanned the darkness. "Looks clear," he murmured, unsure. He glanced over at the Time Lord. The Doctor put up a short burst of noise from his gadget and flushed out a small flock of razor winged hatchlings that swooped through the inner doors with an eerie clicking screech.
Behind him the entire group, sans Johns, ducked out of the way as the squealing mass swooped past them on it's way to roost in the rafters. Spears clattered away from them as Johns fired off the shotgun into the mass before dodging out of the way, "Fuck! Thought you said, 'clear'!"
"Said, 'Looks clear,' -- actually." Richard replied.
Fry cut in; "Can we just get the door open?" She paused to flip on the spotlight on wheels that had been constructed with the converter, a power cell and the skiff's headlights. Outside the hammerheads wailed in protest at the return of the hated fire as the light filtered through the slashed door.
The con hit the switch and the spring released the latch. Then he stepped up to the door and gave it a mighty shove sending it up into the overhead track. Outside the rain was coming down in sheets. "I hope the spotlight doesn't short out," says Paris.
"The connections are covered. It should be fine." Carolyn reassured, "Come on, we're just burning light here and the creatures are already behind us so there's no going back now."
Imam said, "Remember, stay together. Keep your lead short enough so that it does not tangle. Together we can survive this. God will see us through."
And with that they set off into the wet maze of the settlement heading for the coring room.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
River found herself between brown and white, Jack and Simon. Her mind was tightly muffled, thanks to both her brother and the Doctor. While she was aware of the creatures and the emotions of the others running strong she didn't experience them in such a way that they drove her. Greenish copper, Hassan, walked in front of her, rather pushing toward the more metallic earth, Rich. He seemed unafraid, excited and hyper alert perhaps, but not scared. Fear would serve him better.
Just behind her was ruddy bright orange, Paris, attempting to gain more safety by staying within the glow cast by others as if he had no light of his own. He had fear plenty. More than enough for everyone, not that it would do him any good if it turned into panic. The art dealer's lead ran through her and Simon. The Doctor had insisted that if something threatened the light, they were to do whatever was necessary to keep the others safe. She tried not to think about what that request might mean.
On the other side of the dirt brown was more emerald green, Ali. The boy is pissing scared; his colors pulsing and near neon bright. It's like he's trying to make his aura visible to the others in an effort to gain more protection. He won't panic though, not with his older brothers there to make him look the fool if he does. The jade green of Suleiman walks behind and to the outer edge, between the boys and the smoky bluish soot of the docking pilot. In front of Carolyn are the tropical sky tones of Imam, who walks next to Hassan, trying to get the boy to hold back. And behind them all is Red. The marshal makes her skin crawl, like her physical body wants to get away from him in layers that she cannot control totally.
The buildings here were skeletons, the siding being stripped away, posts and beams that reached into the inky, rainy sky. She could see them because the metal floors reflected the faint light differently than the wet mud they were splashing through as they walked, not quite in time with one another but very careful to maintain the spacing between them. Just on the edge of their mass glow the shadows moved, frothing in sheer numbers of predators that waited for any misstep. She'd put on long cargo style pants and a heavier sweater under the glowing one, but the rain and the chill made her shiver.
She felt a small hand grab her own. The green eyes belonging to Jack met hers as she glanced that way and smiled at the child. River curled her hand tighter around the smaller one as she tried to give the youth enough strength to keep going. They were both wet and chilled to the bone already.
The group passed this way and that, turning seemingly at random to go down muddy lanes that had been stripped of crates. After what might have been an hour or five minutes the buildings started to look more like buildings, and less like metal bones. Ahead of them Riddick held up a hand. There was a wall of sound, wails and clicks and bones smashing against each other up ahead of them. The pause lengthened before he motioned them into one of the more complete buildings.
In mass they pushed through the door, light filling the smallish room. "There's a massive monster fight going on in the lane ahead of us," Rich relays. "I don't think the Doctor's sonic thing-a-bob is going to do more than rile them up. We need another way through. Perhaps between building walls?"
"You mean cut a path?" Fry asks.
"Either that or make a mass run for it, in hope that we scatter them and that they don't attack us."
"Well, I vote for burn," Paris pipes up. "How many buildings away are we?"
The Doctor says, "Five."
That's twelve or so cuts, but better than making a long run and hoping that they don't slip in the mud, River thinks. Slowly everyone comes to the same conclusion. Fry hands over the torch from her bag. Riddick slips out of his fiber optic top and tucks it into Jack's pack. "Here's the plan, We'll cut a hole, I'll go through and scan ahead, then the Doctor will come through and give 'em a burst of noise. If the building is clear then you will come through. Guard each other's leads, and don't separate."
They trust his judgement, and his skill. Even Red, the dark-haired girl notices. The merc doesn't protest the plan and offers to do the cutting. He hands his gun to Fry, who hands the spotlight off to Imam.
The first cut opens into sheeting rain. Although the next wall is just fifteen centimeters past that, they are nearly overwhelmed by the increase in the howling eerie noise and fighting that they can hear echoing through the wet night. The metal removed from the wall is turned and bent before being hoisted up above head level and being allowed to spring back open, wedging itself into a cover that Johns can stand under to make the opening. He's bathed in bright illumination from the headlight lamp as he makes the next cut. As the merc steps back into the room to allow Riddick through, he slips off his own fiber optic top and hands it to Hassan with the request that it be tucked into Jack's pack. He then turns off the torch, switching the tool back for his gun. Fry motions to Imam to keep the spotlight for the time being.
Moving from one building to another happens after Riddick and the Doctor ensure that there is a measure of safety. The next space is long and narrow, with their entry being someplace near the middle. There are a series of doors along the far wall; perhaps this is the office for the bulk of the geologists? Pausing, the group studies the situation. They need to go across this building to get to their goal, but something is not completely safe here. The sound of rain pelting the metal roof drowns out most every other sound.
Off to the right there's a sudden metallic boom followed by quieter clatter. Nearly every light they have is turned that direction. A file cabinet has fallen, or was tipped over, papers and thin drawers making quite a mess on the far end of the floor. There's no sign of current movement however. Fry puts a hand on one knob and finds it locked, "Which way?"
"We should try to find an open door, save the torch for when we need it," Imam prompts.
They began checking doors and moving toward the downed cabinet. A clicking screech from behind them freezes the survivors in their tracks. Almost as a single unit they whip their lights around the other way to find only more empty hall, but about halfway to the end of the building is a darkness that indicates an open door. They all look at each other each thinking the same thing, How the fuck could one get in here?
"Could've come in through a window? I dunno," says the docking pilot.
"Why don't you check it out, Johns?" Riddick suggests.
The snapping wail repeats itself. It becomes rather clear that the majority of the group agrees with the con. They expect him to check it out.
Paris finally says, "Come on, Johns. You got the big gun."
The redhead counters, "I'd rather piss glass. Why don't you fucking check?"
"He's right, you know," says Simon.
"Wanna rag your fat mouth?" Johns says as he turns on the Tam scion.
From inside the open room there's the sound of metallic furniture being toppled and more screeching.
"Might be the only open door," Riddick points out.
Johns clenches his jaw, takes a hit on his breather, turns away from his raven-haired target, and slowly crosses the distance to the darkened doorway. He flattens his back against the wall and thrusts his shotgun around the corner. The gun goes off. Something inside the room squeals but the popping-filled keening stops. Crouching low, the merc eases his head and light around the door and sees that there are blown-apart hatchlings on the floor, making a blue stain on the scattered papers from the toppled file cabinets.
He lets out a breath and points his gun up into the air. "Okay. We're okay. Just some small ones that musta -- " he starts to call back to the others. The thought is never finished, as something scythe-like makes a fast and powerful swipe at his head driving him back and down. The swing and Johns' surprise conspire to discharge his gun again. The blast illuminates something pale, with a huge tooth-filled mouth set under a bony ridge crest that gives the overall impression of a dagger-filled diamond. He half scampers and half crab-walks back to the group, "Find another door."
As it happened, Olgivie found himself near the outer portal. His first and only thought was to put distance between himself and the huge monster that was in front of them, "Not staying in here another..." as he lunges for the lever to open up the way outside, intent on fleeing into the rain filled darkness beyond.
Fry grabs his arm, spins him with his own momentum, and slams him into the wall, "Christ, you don't know what's out there!"
"But I do know what's in here!" he protests.
Meanwhile the Doctor has turned his sonic screwdriver to one of the inner doors and it clicks open. Riddick peeks in and gives a nod. The holy man says, "Everybody come, this way and we should be safe. Hurry, please..." Imam ushers them through into the smallish supply closet and once all twelve are inside he closes and relocks the door.
"Now we're trapped in a much smaller space. I hate this!" Paris nearly screams.
Fry and Johns switch torch for gun again. "Just hang on, Paris. We're still moving. Calm down," the blonde says. Johns struggles to get the cutter lit, and a scratching starts on the metal door before spreading to the surrounding wall. "Move the shelving!" Fry orders as she starts trying to block the door and wall. Rich, Simon, the Doctor, the older pilgrims, and Imam all begin helping her as Johns focuses on cutting the far wall. River tries to keep Jack and Ali out of the way while keeping the others from tangling up their leads. Paris cowers back with the two boys, perfectly content to hide behind the children. They can see the predator's scythe-like talons are poking and working around the door jam, like it's trying to make perforations in the metal so that the door will give way. The sudden driving, bonging, blow to the door is strong enough to make the shelving slide, with a loud metal on metal scraping, against the floor. "Johns! Hurry!" Fry throws her weight into pushing the shelving back to buy them more time. Hassan and Suleiman copy her. The others concentrate on adding more shelving to the pile.
One wall gives way to the torch, revealing the torrent falling in large fast drops. It's like walking into a waterfall almost, the volume of rain that is pouring down is so great. Johns takes a breath and prays that the water won't make the torch cut out before calling, "Spot me?" Paris blinks, darts over to the abandoned device, and aims the spotlight at the marshal's back. "Thanks," The redhead sets to work on the second wall. He kicks the hole open before he fully competes the cut. Johns then reaches back, grabs the spotlight and pushes it through. There are no noises to indicate that the creatures are in this building. "Come on, let's go!" The redhead wheels the spotlight along side himself as he rushes through what was a dorm. The marshal sets the cutter to work on the next wall before the others are even all the way into the new space.
River shepherds Jack and Ali with the art dealer right on her heels, through the downpour and into the next chamber. The others quickly follow as one of the shelves topples from the banging, and the claws begin ripping into the wall in earnest next to the door. Once again, the group muscles what ever they can find, in this case a missed dresser, over the gap in the wall. It won't hold for long. "Go, go!" Fry urges.
"Keep moving!"
The next three buildings pass in a rushed haze, Johns cutting constantly, the others trying to get enough of the gap blocked to buy time to get to the next room while keeping the children safe and in the middle of the group. It seemed, though; that no sooner than they would get one passage cut that the persistent hammerheads would get the gap behind them cleared.
But the next wall Johns opens leads to a large shelf filled room, with the shelves being 'V' shaped and containing long mineral core samples. "Hold!" Riddick calls, to keep Johns from rushing forward to the next wall. They have reached the Coring Room without being totally aware of it and are now in one of the storage rooms off of it. "Try to get that blocked up!" The spotlight doesn't illuminate this large chamber enough to ensure that they are alone here. With the roof being gone in the main room large predators might be roosting in the rafters. There are loads of small metal crates, weighed down with mineral samples, which can be stacked against the hole. The group begins hastily doing just that, while the Doctor directs the redhead to tack them in place by altering the heat of the torch and handing him a spool of solder. But Johns gives him a blank look prompting Abu to take the torch and welding material from them and start doing as the Time Lord suggests.
"You can't weld?" The Doctor asks William.
"I can," the redhead protests. Everyone from his world learned metal-craft, with mining being the main industry. He looked over and found those ancient eyes giving him a once over and finding him lacking, God, he couldn't lie to this man. He'd never had this problem before. Johns swallowed and looked at the floor, "Just – I failed the test on it, is all."
Those intense eyes finally look elsewhere, "So, you can't weld."
"Not that I trust, no," the merc admits.