A/N:
RomanaSharla thanks for adding this as a 'Favorite Story'. I'm
quite honored.
JamieT19
has placed this on Story Alert, thank you, too.
And
thanks as well to my reviewers, ck16 and My Reflection, and readers.
Yep,
the TARDIS can be quite stubborn. Ever see that 1st
Doctor episode where the TARDIS nearly drives them all insane? It's
called "The Edge of Destruction" or "Inside the Spaceship".
Good classic Who, that. Anyway, every good Timeship knows that her
Time Lord might need some prompting… and that sometime fate must be
allowed to play out, no matter how much it hurts.
Heh,
Johns and Riddick do work together well, when Johns isn't higher
than a kite.
River's
little problem will extend beyond this story, and the Doctor will
have to out think and out maneuver someone. Well – how else
am I to get you to read the next crossover?
This is
the second to the last chapter…
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 Thirty-Three
Sacrifice
" 'M fine, me. -- Just a bit here to gather my balance, lad."
Richard B. Riddick was a con, a murderer, and a trained killer – none of these things prepared him for the experience he was currently having. Then again, little could match being in the freezing cold surrounded by so much blood that it was falling from the sky like hail. Not to mention the occasional body-part that shattered like a bomb when it hit. He was trying, desperately, to not think about what they had done to get this far. He didn't want to think about what they might have to do to make it past this point. That left him with the now. And aside from the precise work he was doing, he didn't want to dwell on that overly much, either.
Mainly because he was insanely worried about the drama going on behind him between the Doctor, Simon, and River. He knew something was wrong. Very wrong. He rubbed his fingers over the marshal's badge in his hand, trying to suppress the urge to drop what he was doing an' check on the stubborn alien himself. Something about the thick accent just pinged against his awareness as off. Maybe it was the fact that there were some half formed musical sounds that seemed beyond everyone else's hearing hovering around that last sentence. Then again the shiver he felt moving up his spine might just be the cold.
And, of course, he can't let Johns know what he's feeling or he'll never hear the end of it.
Once again, his blue-eyed devil was pulling a wild card, having come to his original senses at some point like the intervening years between their meeting in the war and their re-meeting after the scandal that put the bronze-complexioned man in Slam had been stripped away. This was the 'Billy-Bad-Ass' that had been his comrade-in-arms, the man he'd respected for all the abrasive and nasty parts of his personality because the fella had, when all the chips were down, been a good guy. He'd caught glimpses of the man, here and there, through the years of being chased from one Slam to another. Likely why time and time again he'd pulled the redhead's ass out of the fire.
The ex-ranger turned con was currently making a flare 'defective'. Or rather, deliberately fucking it up so that it would explode. Having been in Slam, actually in and out of most of them in the 'Verse, Riddick picked up talents that no one in their right mind would think to want. Turning things into weapons, making explosives out of items especially designed to not explode, destroying expensive stuff just to piss folks off – well, it appeased his inner vandal, he supposed. He was good at it. He could see how to make the most of anything, weapon-wise. Saved his own gorram ass more than once, too.
As Richard worked, Johns proved that his training as a killer, different than the bronze-toned man's for sure, was just as effective. They had made a good team, back then. One to pick 'em off at a distance and one to plug the holes with seemingly nothing. Not that Riddick couldn't shoot. To the contrary, he could, almost as well as William could, but he always preferred close combat, injury to killing, and the fact was that in most battlefields his tactics removed three times the enemy that Johns' did.
The merc had gotten into his gear and exchanged parts of his second pistol to turn it into a fair sniper's weapon. Amazing how the man could go from marshal to assassin in less time than it took most folks to switch their train of thought. The silver weapon now had a longer barrel, an attached scope, and a semi-full clip. "Only got six shots with this baby," Billy was telling the other man with a purr in his voice. Meaning, of course, that he'd only used the gun in this form six times before this.
The quicksilver eyes scanned over the weapon, "Neat little gun. Where'd you pick it up?"
"Ah, some little backwater Blue-Sun planet." The navy-clad shoulders shrug. Then he thinks a moment and corrects himself, "Terraformed Moon." Actually, Johns is feeling rather vocal and sharing at that instant, "Hauled in a guy for a local hick and noticed that the guns were of better quality than most other places, so I opted for one instead of my usual fee. Custom job, express order. Almost had it done in a gunmetal finish, but the chrome caught my eye." He's rambling now, maybe because he's sensing that Rich is paying attention to his voice. It's been a long, long time since anyone was interested in something of his. Not even Fry had been, when he tried to talk about Riddick that lifetime ago, "Wasn't like the creds there were worth much elsewhere, anyhow. It was before that stupid browncoat civil war and the moon was printin' it's own. One of my first cases." They meet each other's eyes. William is giving him a soft-ish expression that is not quite a smile as he thinks about the past; "I would imagine that by now its Alliance issue everything." The redhead's expression changed to one of worry, "Hey, you don't suppose that this is gonna hurt the Doc's ship, do ya?"
Richard has been reprimanded enough to automatically toss out, "Bob's?"
He's not looking at the expression on Johns' face so the man finally says, "Huh?"
"Sorry, inside joke. You mean the Doctor. Not Simon, right?" The confused look doesn't go away. He chuckles, "Told me no to call 'em 'Doc' because we was already callin' Simon 'Doc', so I said 'how about Bob?' Actually got a laugh outta him. So now when he corrects me I call him Bob. But as to your question, somehow I think it'll take a lot more than this flare going boom to damage his ship."
"Weird," the merc says as he shakes his head. "You don't know his name? Or where he's from? Or how he got here? And yet – you're tighter than lovers with 'im."
"Exactly what are you implying, Billy?"
Johns shakes his head, "Nothing! I don't know what you and he have been getting up to, Rich, and before you go tellin' me, I don't wanna know. Ok? If you are – whatever – with the man, just keep it to yourself." Riddick started to open his mouth with a retort. "No." William cuts the other man off with the wave of a hand, "Maybe you don't see it yet. Maybe nothing has happened, yet. But I can fuckin' see with my own eyes the effect he has on people. Got you tied around his little finger." The two men stared at each other, one with certainty and the other with disbelief. "Don't give me that look. If he wanted you, and realized that he wanted you, he'd have you. And you wouldn't fight him, Rich. Mark my words."
"I think you need another one of those miracle clear-head shots that Simon gave you, Billy. You're seeing connections where there are none."
To his chagrin, the other man just made a snorting laugh, "Right." He leans over and puts his lips to Riddick's ear and whispers, "Why is he watching you with a possessive glint in his eyes, then? Huh?" It looks like quite an intimate moment between them and Rich is hyper aware of the fact because of how suggestively Johns moves. Almost like he's trying to get himself lashed into by the Doctor's very sharp tongue for stepping over bounds that have been invisibly drawn. The ex-ranger narrows his eyes at the merc, before taking a quick peek over at the leather-clad subject of the discussion. And sure as shit, a pair of eyes is watching them filled with –something that is very strongly warning Johns to behave.
Riddick catches the Time Lord's eyes and raises an eyebrow at the man's display. The Doctor's face morphs into puzzled innocence. What? Again they reflect the same question back at each other, from dark blue eyes to silver. The con turns back to the marshal, "I think he don't trust you, Billy."
"Around your ass? No, he don't," the man jabs at him lightly. The ex-ranger still thinks that Johns is not interpreting the Doctor correctly but decides at this point that riling the man up further, either of them really, is a not wise idea. So he lets it drop as he begins to attach the second flare to the first in such a way that it will land and pop the good one open.
The redhead makes a kissing face over his shoulder at the pale man, not noticing how pinched his features are without the extra provocation. "Johns," hisses Carolyn, "Stop trying to get the Doctor pissed off with you. Do you have a death wish or something?" Behind her Imam is chanting softly, his fingers holding the sonic screwdriver in a certain steady grip, although the mahogany-skinned man is mentally quite far away. The boys are knotting a ladder out of the glowing cables still. Simon is holding River, leaving the Doctor to glare freely at the redheaded man. And he is fixing Billy with a look that is rather frightening. It's clear to Johns at least that the hairless gent has set a claim on several people, and that he's still on the outside. But that's ok. He's gonna die here anyhow.
It's all the merc can do to not laugh at Fry.
Here they are, surrounded by glowing cables, being pelted by bits of blue blood and flesh, that by some grace or another just happens to be frozen, getting ready to cause an explosion so that they can reach a fuckin' blue box the size of a closet. He's wondering if she's lost her mind. Or maybe they all have.
"Anyone not ready to do this?" Riddick says as he holds up the connected flares.
"The ladder is not finished," Suleiman says, "But knowing how far it must reach would be helpful."
The con puts his goggles back on, because this is going to be bright. Like a mini-sun, if he remembers correctly. "Close your eyes, people. Johns?"
"Ready. Do it, Rich." It's just like old times, when they worked together during the Wailing Wars. Johns flips the instant filter active on his scope, and watches for the bundle that the bronze man throws to land. He's got time to line the shot up, after the locals ahead of them flap away from the bright green light. The defective canister is somehow facing his gun, making the attempt laughably easy. His frozen fingers squeeze off the shot and although the resulting explosion happens within milliseconds he has time to wonder if he actually hit before the flash of light and heat washes over them. The frozen ground about a three meters away starts to sink downward with a series of cracking sounds.
Suddenly there's a strong hand on his shoulder, vice-like in it's grip, and rather welcome with the heat of it although it's not as warm as a hand should be, "Good man." Johns looks up to see the Doctor's manic grin and wonders why he'd tried to make him angry. He puffs up a bit like he's been rewarded with something highly prized and smirks back. "Never had a doubt," The hand squeezes gently and with a pat is gone.
They gather up what is left of the optic cables and move carefully forward. "It looks quite slippery," Carolyn notes.
The Doctor looks at Simon who is carrying River and his bag. "Let me carry River, all right?" The Tam scion has to agree that he doesn't want to fall while holding his unconscious sister. "Let's tie one of the optic cables around our waists as an extra precaution," the man says as he carefully takes the dark-haired girl from her brother.
It's a given that the Doctor will go first with River, and Simon will follow him with Jack and Ali. Imam gives back the sonic device, re-enacting the delicate switch to maintain the pressure on the button. The explosion has driven off the majority of the predators, and injured or killed a vast number besides. This gives them some time, not much but some, to descend down into the chamber below that is filled with phosphorescent larvae and other life. The holy man insists that Carolyn follow the children down but has no luck in getting Suleiman to agree to follow her. Instead, sensing they don't have time to argue he goes next with the older pilgrim following him. This leaves Johns and Riddick to haggle over who gets the end, and amazingly enough they don't come to blows over it. William needs his hands free for the shotgun, so Richard ends up holding the generator.
The ground has broken away in a series of staircase like drops, tilted crazily, slick with ice and flash melted-refrozen blue blood. In the end, sitting and sliding on their butts is the way they go, even if they don't want the indignity of it. The Doctor sits at the edge of the first 'step' with River cradled against his chest in a sitting position even though she is unaware. He carefully slides his sole over the next one before lowering himself down the half-meter or so. The ice is mirror smooth, and very slick. He won't risk River by standing as he traverses this. His action spares the rest of them from the fall and fast slide that might have occurred otherwise and they each copy him.
Each of the following steps is between a seventh of a meter and a meter down from the last, and some are barely wide enough for a foot to settle on. They don't have time to think about the route, to doubt their skill or ability to do this so they just manage, somehow, to not lose control as they slide from one step to the next as each tilts down, making a deeper descent than they do across. And four meters in front of them, as they go down, sits the TARDIS, or the roof of it, at least.
There's a meter gap between the edge of the last 'step' and the blue box. Above them the natives are returning in droves, suddenly aware that the situation is not what they had originally perceived it to be. "Doctor, let's get the children down fast!" The ladder unrolls, long enough for a second way down. The Time Lord places River beside him, and makes the slide to the crumpled ice below, "Here, take River," Simon calls to him as he lowers his sister, feet first to the man below. Lucky for Simon that Imam catches him before he follows her, headfirst.
Riddick takes the top of the ladder, "Ali, Jack – go. NOW! Don't argue." He shoos the boys onto the ladder. " Go, Carolyn."
The Doctor settles River down and moves to catch Simon who is slowly sliding toward him. Imam looks scared. Rightly so, really. He's sliding on the steep slope with no way of stopping himself, holding Simon by the ankles. "Got you, Father," says Johns. "Looks like we're gonna go down one way or another, huh?" he jokes.
"It does indeed seem so, Mr. Johns. I would, if I were you, perhaps keep an eye out behind you."
The merc turned halfway at that and blasted a hammerhead that was creeping up on them. The force of the recoil made Simon yell as he went over the edge.
"I've got you, lad," The Time Lord says as he catches him. "Hang on, just a sec."
Abu tries to find some purchase on the ice with his hands once the dark-haired young man is down and finds Suleiman catching him, "Go down the ladder, boy!" he orders.
"I am not letting you fall, Imam."
Richard ducks a swooping predator and the resulting blast from the marshal's gun. Both motions cause him to slip, and Carolyn calls up, "We're down! Hurry, now!"
The Doctor's voice comes from below Abu, "Suleiman, let him slide, I will catch him. Come down the ladder."
But Suleiman has other ideas. Ideas that are perhaps not his own but good ones none the less. The universe is not yet done with Johns and Riddick, and not all of them are going to make it. So when the redhead grips his arm to push him toward the ladder he lets go of his mentor and sends up a prayer that this will work, that only one sacrifice is needed for the others to live. Then he moves his arm sending the marshal down the slope after Imam, somehow stopping his own slide.
"Suleiman! Down the ladder!" orders the dark-skinned man as he slips over the edge. It's not much of a surprise that the Doctor catches him and helps him gain he footing, "Mr. Johns is right behind me."
The marshal manages to find a small bump that he wedges his heel into. He's flat against the ice, on his side with the shotgun pointing up the slope toward where the bioraptors are gathering. There are three of them still on the ledge; Richard is sliding, unable to find purchase against the ice until he digs in with his shiv. William sees the large bull hammerhead swipe at the bronze skinned man and orders, "Down!" as he brings the gun to bare. It's like slow motion; the scythe-like bone slices into the generator with a flash of sparks because the ex-ranger moves to block as he lays flat. The barrel of the gun comes into alignment and goes off. Johns feels the tenuous hold he's got on the slick surface give way. The last thing he sees is the shower of blue in the fading glow that explodes over the other two before he finds himself falling. And then he's helped to find his balance down below by Imam, Fry and the Doctor.
Riddick finds himself staring at the kid, "Go on down the ladder." The others below are urging the same thing, but it is as if the kid can't hear them.
Suleiman looks past him, shaking his head, "Take care of them." The young man somehow manages to stand. Rich feels his feather-soft fingers on his shoulder for the slightest of moments. It's like the touch of an angel; "They need you."
There's a screeching and the ex-ranger lets go of the ladder to grab the boy's wrist, to tug him down. "You don't need to do this, we can both make it, Suleiman." But he knows in that instant that they won't both make it. He can push the lad down or he can go himself, but one of them will die here. The Arabic boy shakes his head and reaches up with one hand that is slick and bright with moist heat. Somehow he's cut himself and is bleeding.
"Save River. He'll need your help. It was my time to go, from the start." And to stave off any other protest he kicks Riddick's shiv free from both the ground and his hold, sending it off into the darkness.
"No!" the goggled man grips tighter, feeling the warm slick running over his fingers, the smell of copper thick in his nostrils. Something has caught the boy, and Rich can't see what it is, he's not got energy to spare. The tug increases, his hand is slipping because of the blood, and Suleiman is not trying to hang on. Even as he brings his other hand up he knows it's too late. "Not like this! Suleiman, don't do it!"
The boy gives him an angelic smile, eyes lit like he's seen God himself, their hands slide against one another, and then he is gone into the night. Riddick is so stunned by the vision that he doesn't scream a final time, doesn't feel his body sliding over the cold slick under him, doesn't even realize he falling until he stops, caught by the Doctor before he can hit the ground. He blinks behind his goggles, caught in the knowing gaze of the ancient being holding him. The goggles are lifted. They share a forever-moment of grief; Time stopped just for them in that eternity of loss. And then the Doctor's hand moves from the eyewear down to cup his cheek. Fevered fingers brush aside the tear making it's way down Rich's face.
And Riddick knows the man is in horrible, burning, physical pain.