So! Chapter Four! It's a little late... well, more than a little... but here you go, anyway! I'm not completely happy with it, but you deserve something! Thank you to everyone who has been keeping up with this, and I hope you enjoy it! It ties right back in with the last chapter, and includes all the characters leading up to it.
Rose stood with her back to the wind, pulling her blue leather jacket tightly around her. Carla sat bobbing her head along to music from her de-bugged Cybus ear piece, in a black trench coat, of which the pockets were undoubtedly filled with various alien gadgets and tools.
Rose heard the Doctor's footsteps as he and Warren thundered up the stair case. She was surprised he was still in such impeccable shape after losing a heart in the meta-crisis; although he complained about it constantly, she hadn't noticed any change in his ability to dart from place to place without breaking a sweat.
The door flung open with a defiant creak, and the Doctor bounced up onto the roof, screwdriver in hand and a mischievous smile on his face. Warren shuffled up behind him, slightly out of breath, but still impressively unfazed by the climb.
Rose gave him a grin. He sidled next to her, holding out his hand, which she took, swinging it to and fro.
"Our first mission." She commented, looking up at the Zeppelin which was steadily floating towards them.
"Quite right! In St. Petersburg! Is it any different in this universe?" he asked.
Rose shrugged. "Never been there… well, never been to this one." The Doctor smiled.
Warren raised his eyebrows at them; it was another one of those moments where he had to remind himself that Rose and John were inter-dimension travellers. Their conversations made little sense even when they didn't refer to the other universe, so he wondered to himself why he bothered.
He would've remarked about it to Carla, but she hadn't taken her ear buds out, and the guitar solo pounding from them was enough to make him keep his distance. Her lips parted, like she was singing the sounds the instruments made, and he giggled a little to himself. She was every bit as intriguing to him as the day he'd met her. And he felt a touch of rejection at her so vehemently denying his apprenticeship. He was a novice engineer, after all, and had to be of some assistance to her. He certainly knew more about circuitry and wiring and infrastructure than paradoxes and cosmic continuums. Not that John would allow him to get a word in edgewise even if he did.
She was pretty, he decided. She didn't wear much make up, and he felt that she didn't really need to. She had very nice eyes, and a creamy complexion that made them seem even brighter. Her dark hair appeared soft to the touch and she looked as though she had a very shapely figure, if she didn't shroud herself in so many dark colors and coats. The only skin he ever saw was her face. Yet he couldn't imagine her without her black dresses and tights and trench coats.
The Zeppelin whirred and cast an imperious shadow over the roof as it descended, lowering a ladder for them to climb.
Carla moaned, snatching out her earpiece. "Of all the advanced technology and gadgetry and what not, you'd think we'd have come up with a more civilized way to board a Zeppelin."
Warren snickered. "You'd think that we'd have come up with a better alternative to hot air balloons." He remarked.
"Indeed!" Carla retorted, hiking up her skirt. "You'd better not be getting a peek, or I'll kick your teeth out, soldier." She warned Warren as she gripped the rungs.
The Doctor shook his head, crossing his arms. "Be nice to the gentleman, Carla. And you, Warren, I'd heed her warning if I were you."
Carla cleared her throat and started climbing.
Rose and the Doctor hung back, watching them take to the ladder. He gave her a thoughtful glance.
"Why haven't they refined air travel here? With all the other transportation they've updated, Zeppelins should've been antiquated years ago." He asked Rose.
Rose laughed. "The Wright Brothers didn't exist in this universe. Mum considered offering up the idea, thought it'd be mighty lucrative, but everyone seems pretty happy with the Zeppelins. I can't imagine why. But then again, these days even a Maserati seems like a bicycle compared to the TARDIS." She answered him.
They proceeded up the rope ladder, and once they'd made their way to the conference room on the third level, they could be debriefed.
Pete sat at the end of the table, smugly sipping his coffee, as Jake explained the situation in his usual professional manner; curt and to the point, and never pausing too long for questions, to Carla's chagrin.
"There's been a confirmed alien sighting in St. Petersburg. We're not certain of rank or intent, but by the looks of how they've been raiding museums and secret storehouses for hours with some pretty dangerous looking weapons, it's safe to say this needs to be handled as covertly as possible. They're current location resides in the State Hermitage Museum, which, conveniently enough… is in the heart of the city and possesses countless priceless items. Why these aliens are art-haters is not yet known… and the curator asks that if at all possible we should try and save the relics.
"Specifically, the Romanov treasures-"
"Ah, the Romanovs… brilliant!" The Doctor interjected, rubbing his palms together in anticipation. He was bristling with excitement already, from what Rose could tell. She smirked and nodded for Jake to continue.
"Yes, the Romanov treasures. We're sure it's no coincidence that they're looting those in particular. Quite a lot of mystery surrounding the royal family, wouldn't be a surprise if it all turned out to be aliens." He said.
Carla scoffed. "Surely you don't mean to tell me they were aliens… what about Anastasia and all that?"
Jake shrugged. "We can hardly know. Certainly couldn't ask the Romanovs about it."
The Doctor laughed. "True, but wouldn't it be a wonder if we could give them a visit and find out?"
Rose shoved him with her elbow, giving him a stern look, but it was all in an effort to hide a smile.
Jake rolled his eyes and pressed on, describing the mission at hand. "We'll deploy to just outside the city. We've got operatives already at the perimeter. By the time you all arrive, we'll have organized the most logical point of entry depending on our alien targets. Rose, you and the Doctor scout ahead with Carla and Warren. Rose and the Doctor will be in charge of the first-contact. Carla, you are in charge of weapons assessment, and Warren, well, you'll be the man in charge of the aggressive negotiations if the need be. Thaxton will deploy with you to report to the operatives. We have a second vessel waiting for detainment and the trip back." He finished.
The Doctor strolled from the room with Rose at his side, whistling.
"So, what say you about all this?" Rose asked, hanging on his arm.
The Doctor grinned over at her. "We might make some new friends today, Rose, and frankly, I'm very excited. Exuberant, actually. Nothing like travelling, but not so bad."
"And what if they're hostile?" Rose offered.
The Doctor shrugged. "So what if they are? Danger likes to follow us around doesn't it? But we'll outrun it like we usually do."
Rose laughed. "I missed this. I missed you." She said, looking up at him.
"I have missed it… but I'd like to think, to hope, that today won't remind you too much of how we used to be. Because that's how we used to be. I want to chase the stars with you knowing I'll never have to let you go. It's time we made some new memories… starting now." He said, eyes shining, as he swiftly kissed her forehead and dragged her down the narrow corridor behind him.
The Doctor gazed down at the Polish Highlands as they sailed over it, riding on a gust of wind and tired propellers. He felt Rose come up behind him, and heard her slurping her tea noisily to get his attention.
He grinned. "What's that then? Afternoon tea? That's mighty typical of you, Rose."
She nudged her hip against him, taking another sip. "Just because we're not over London anymore doesn't mean tea time's changed." She remarked, smiling in her trademark way.
The Doctor's eyes flicked back down to the landscape. "I'm not entirely sure what we are over, to be honest. Earth is nothing like I remember it."
Rose nodded in agreement. Their thoughts wandered a moment before she asked, "Can you still feel it?"
He looked over to her, confused. "What?"
"Feel it, you know, 'Earth turnin'." She clarified, her voice lilting wistfully. She looked up at her Doctor, but she was vividly imagining another.
The Doctor frowned. "I don't know."
Rose raised her brows, waiting for him to go on.
"I mean… I know what it's supposed to feel like. I feel it because I remember how to recognize the sensation. Like a detail in a film you never noticed before, but every time you see it again it sticks out like a sore thumb. But, can I physically relate to gravity, and time and space and the universe around us… no, regrettably. Not anymore." He said, with a sniff.
Rose nodded solemnly. "Do you miss it?" she added, taking his hand.
He squeezed it in return, whispering, "I missed you more."
She leaned into him, closing her eyes. She couldn't recall all the numerous times she'd yearned to hear the Doctor say the things "John" said to her everyday… she didn't really know who to thank for her happiness except the Doctor himself, and partly Donna. And perhaps it was just the human sentiment in him talking, but she wanted to believe that her Doctor really loved her enough to give up what he had given up; who he was, by his own definition.
"John! C'mere, I've something funny to show you!" Carla called from across the room.
The Doctor whipped his head over to her. "Mitsy, I'm a little busy!" He shouted back, making Rose giggle.
"You can make googly eyes and say romantically-mysterious things to Ms. Tyler on your own time, sir! I need someone to make fun of Thaxton with!" She retorted, stamping her purple Converse trainers on the floor.
The Doctor rolled his eyes, giving Rose a chaste kiss on the temple as his fingertips reluctantly parted from hers.
"This had better be the funniest thing I've ever seen, Carla…" He murmured, as Rose shook head her comically, looking down at the rolling hills beneath them.
Warren coughed into his elbow loudly. Carla raised a brow at him, issuing him his weapon. "Try to keep that to a minimum, soldier." She remarked, as he nodded apologetically.
Once he'd cleared his throat, he asked, "Why do you keep calling me soldier?"
Carla shrugged. "It felt like the right thing to call you; all hunky and serious-looking. But don't go thinking it's some sort of pet name."
Warren nodded again, always suppressing his urge to laugh at the things she said. They were supposed to act professional in the field, and he valued that bit of protocol, but it seemed Ms. Mitsy did whatever she damn well pleased anyway, so he wondered why he didn't indulge himself more often. She was clever after all and she needed someone besides John to tell her so.
"Hunky?" He finally questioned.
He saw a trace of a blush on her features, but it was quickly extinguished with a cold riposte. "Well, that was me simply being kind, add a capital 'C' to the beginning of that word, and you've got a more accurate description."
"I don't believe you." He said with a hint of laughter.
She seemed taken aback that he would reply. He continued.
He jerked his head in the direction of the General. "I might believe it if it were directed at him."
She smiled mischievously. "But as for me, I'm the picture of fitness." He added with a smirk.
She rolled her eyes. "It appears I've misjudged you, soldier. I'll rightly replace 'hunky' with 'haughty'. That's much more accurate isn't it?"
"I'd have trouble arguing with a genius. Although that's probably why my internal monologues never seem to work out." He reflexed.
Carla pinched her mouth into a pursed expression, surveying him carefully and with a bemused glare.
"Yes, it appears I was accurate after all. Haughty, and takes himself much too seriously."
"And look who's talking, Agent Mitsy?" he asked with a smug look.
She felt her cheeks grow red. "I haven't got time for this." She strode off, looking for the next agent to distribute weapons to.
The troupe of four bustled through the city, having been "deployed" from the zeppelin through the use of parachutes, which proved an entertaining experience for everyone but Warren, who was perplexed once again at the novice behavior of some of the agents whose authority he'd been thrust underneath. Of course, he'd yet to see any of them but Rose in action, and knew little of how John would be handling the situation, since he'd been appointed the leader of the little group.
The Doctor was up ahead, conversing with Rose about something called a "language matrix" and its "residual effects", which was as usual completely lost on Warren, but seemed to delight Rose. Perhaps that's why they seem to belong together… she can actually make sense of him, Warren thought as he shook his shoulders against the cold. The leaves were only just starting to turn back home, but here it was already near freezing. He laughed as something occurred to him.
"Funny how it seems these aliens are the only things who've ever been able to invade Russia, eh John?" He said, as his colleague turned to laugh.
"That's true!" He said, with another chuckle.
"Although, as far as internal affairs go, Russia been torn from stem to stern. Civil war, in my opinion is far worse than foreign invasion; because when a people are in danger they rise together. It's when a civilization dissolves on itself when war becomes truly toxic." He mused, upon which Rose grabbed his hand.
They continued their promenade until they were a block down from the museum.
"I know we were told to wait for the operatives, but… I think I can get us in without any trouble." The Doctor said, pulling his sonic screwdriver from his coat pocket. Rose grinned as he flipped it in his hand, and Carla scoffed.
"I hate the noise that bloody thing makes." She said, shrugging her backpack off to retrieve the rudimentary version of the screwdriver she carried with her.
The Doctor looked offended. "I love that noise." He replied defensively, tossing it up again.
They proceeded up a flight of marble carved stairs to a courtyard that was empty except for some abandoned items. The Doctor raised his sonic screwdriver, setting it to recognize any alien life forms nearby. After they'd been located (on the third floor of the east wing of the museum), it was only a matter of unlocking the doors ahead of them.
The agents dashed through the museum as the Doctor pointed out famous works of art and commented on the history of the building. Finally they reached the store room where the aliens were looting. With a finger to his lips, and Warren close at his heels, the Doctor unlocked the door, as Carla winced at the noise.
The creatures beyond the door were unaware of their intrusion, and carried on a heated conversation that was lost on everyone but Rose and the Doctor.
"None of these will do, Xiandi, the genetic signature is still not present! Keep searching. We don't have much time!" The taller one ordered huskily. His companion tossed the relic as the investigating party flinched, the priceless artifact crashing to the marble floor. But the Doctor couldn't help but wonder what had made it inadequate.
He took notice of the alien's flexible armor, and their rigid postures; soldiers for certain, not thieves like he'd thought formerly. This was a mission just as much as theirs, he concluded. You couldn't possibly make a weapon from a decorative egg, could you? He wondered with a quizzical expression.
"The module malfunctioning is more than just a setback; we've got a matter of minutes before the invasion." The shorter one surmised.
The Doctor shook his head. "Oh, no you don't, no invasions…" he murmured and promptly strode into the room, revealing their hiding spot.
"Well, then gentleman! Art-lovers from another galaxy, or something perhaps more sinister?" He inquired in their language, rocking on his heels with his hands stuffed in his pockets.
Warren stood up quickly, his jaw dropping. "John, what the hell?! How can you-"
Rose snatched back down into a crouch. "That's top secret, soldier." She said as she winked and leaped over the chair they'd been crouched behind, standing next to the Doctor.
"Who wants to know?" The tallest alien asked menacingly, revealing a weapon concealed in his armor.
"Who? Well, I'll let you off, I suppose no one here would know anyhow… I'm the Doctor! And you've landed on a planet I intend on protecting, so! As you can imagine, all this talk about invasions, well… you can see why I had to interrupt." He answered, circling them as Rose smiled a reminiscent smile.
Warren and Carla stood, mouths agape, watching them and glancing at each other.
"So! The logical question that follows would be, who are you?" The Doctor continued.
The aliens shifted a bit, and looked to each other, seemingly trying to decide between them how to answer.
"Are you a figure of authority?" The smaller one inquired, as the largest one scoffed at his question.
The Doctor grinned ironically. "Oh, the highest I should think."
Rose raised an eyebrow at him. "So quick to claim the stakes, aren't you? I'm the official negotiator, here, Mister Head of Time Travel. I daresay you're out of jurisdiction, mate." She quipped.
"Fine, well, then, let me direct you to the ambassador of this planet, the ever so lovely Rose Tyler." The Doctor conceded, glancing back at his colleagues with a wink.
"Rose can… speak blue alien thing?" Carla whispered hoarsely. The Doctor nodded enthusiastically. "She sure can…" he replied, looking to her fondly.
"Did you say he was the 'Head of Time Travel'?" The smaller one asked, like it had piqued his interest or given him an idea.
"'Who wants to know?'" Rose echoed with a smirk.
"I am Xiandi, and this is my comrade Felspon. We are warriors of Raxelmari." The shorter one responded, which met him with a look of indignation from Felspon.
"Yes, well, state your purpose… and why do you need information about time travel?" Rose commanded.
The Doctor stepped up next to her, eyeing the aliens with suspicion. "Raxelmari you say? And you're at war, I assume?"
"Yes, we are on a mission that will determine the future of our planet. Our enemies have planned a massive invasion of Raxelmar, but we have organized a counter attack. You see, we are looking for Rasputin." Xiandi explained.
"Rasputin? I think you may be a bit lost… right country, city, even right palace, but he's long dead. Sorry." Rose replied.
"We don't need him alive…" Felspon remarked with an irritated sneer.
"What would you do with the decaying body of a dead monk? Not that you could find it… he was thrown into a river by the Bolsheviks, left to drown under the ice." Rose said, crossing her arms.
Xiandi and Felspon shared a spluttering laugh, and Rose raised her brows at them, as they continued their knee-slapping.
"Rasputin couldn't possibly drown! Raxelmari do not drown! Oh, my lady, he drowned?!" Felspon answered finally. He certainly appeared to be the ruder of the two.
Rose looked over to the Doctor to make sure he had caught the same thing. "Did you hear that, Doctor, Raxelmari don't drown? What'd you think of that?" she said, slyly. She snapped her attention back to the soldiers in front of her.
"Alright then, spill. What's this business with Rasputin? I don't care how the slime died, just what are you gonna do with him." She barked.
"Rasputin was a diplomat fallen from grace long ago, from our planet. He disguised himself, rather ridiculously, and came to Russia. It was the best place for a Raxelmari on the run. Near the water, plenty of dismal people and monarchs whose fingers he could kiss… this particular Raxelmari was a traitor, to our crown and Russia's. But he was crafty, and far more significant than we could ever realize. In cohorts with our enemy, no less! But none of that matters as far as we're concerned. We need a single trace of his DNA to reactivate our module, which has been damaged in battle." Xiandi revealed.
"And no other DNA will do?" The Doctor asked.
"Not exactly." Felspon responded curtly.
Carla cleared her throat, getting the Doctor's attention. "Trying to interpret your dialect is fun and all, but we need an update-" She was cut off by the I.D.C.D (Inter-Dimensionary Communications Device) beeping with a vengeance. "And apparently, Thaxton needs one as well." She said, tossing the device to the Doctor.
He rolled his eyes and groaned, clicking on the receiver. "General! How are things?" He chirped.
"AGENT SMITH! Have you ever heard of PROTOCOL! Which clearly states that you stick to the directive and don't BLOODY GO OFF ON YOUR OWN and leave the ENTIRE FLEET OF OPERATIVES in the DARK!" He exploded in response.
"I take it you're not well. My sincerest apologies." He replied as Rose sighed, reaching for the I.D.C.D.
"He does apologize. Now, I'm gonna do my negotiating thing and try to get everyone to make peace with each other, yeah? As for the status, we are perfectly fine, the extraterrestrials appear to be benign and you appear to be without the need of the fleet. Sorry!" she soothed.
Thaxton sighed over the 'com. "Agent Tyler… I don't need a bloody apology, I need results. I want a confirmed surrender or otherwise within the hour, or I fire at will. You'd benefit by remembering protocol. I'm priming my weapon, you do your part and maybe we can get back to London by tomorrow morning."
"Over and out, General." Rose said, clicking off the device and blowing her hair from her face.
She tossed the I.D.C.D back to Carla, who stared at in thought for a second before her face washed over in enlightenment, pulling out her brick of a computer and sitting cross-legged on the floor abruptly.
"Don't mind me; I just… wanted to do a quick software patch."
"Now, down to business… Rose, we don't have that long, I hope you realize that." The Doctor chimed in.
"I do now… Xiandi, what's the significance of this module… on a scale of one to ten?" Rose asks, turning to the alien in question.
Xiandi tensed. "One hundred, Miss Tyler."
Rose let out a slow breath. "Then, we'd best find that genetic signature. Hop to it!" She instructed, and the Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver, practically diving into the pile of relics.
Rose followed suit joined by the Raxelmari and together they sifted through trunks and scanned each one carefully. After a minute or two, Warren offered his assistance in exchange for an explanation.
"Basically, we need to find something with a trace of DNA from Rasputin, or their planet will blow up." Rose answered.
"'Basically', nothing… Rose we have a matter of minutes before that trigger happy idiot blows us up."
"So, you see, this is all very suspenseful." Rose said, tossing a silver spoon over her shoulder.
Warren swallowed. "No kidding."
They sifted with a frenzy, and Warren cleared his throat. "Another, possibly less pertinent question… How on God's green Earth do you speak their language?"
Rose sighed. "It's um… the Doctor and I were exposed to a, uh, language recognition machine a long while back, in the parallel universe. And the effects haven't completely worn off." She smiled softly. "And never will, according to him. Which is a relief. Never knew I had it in me!"
The Doctor glanced back at her, and was consumed with the urge to kiss her right there. How's that for protocol, he thought, amused. But he resisted, trying to focus on the task at hand. But for the life of him, his Rose certainly was an endearing distraction.
Not a second later, a beam shot through the ceiling, claiming the Raxelmari, and Rose screamed, as Carla gave nothing more than a yelp, and then a triumphant laugh.
The Doctor had squeezed his eyes shut, a torrent of horrible, awful words circling in his head regarding the one responsible for the beam, but as soon as he'd realized they weren't disintegrated, he opened them.
Carla continued to laugh, and the Doctor made a note that they were floating… in the beam. And most certainly not dead. And Carla, at perhaps the most inappropriate time possible, was laughing, holding her stomach and floating past him, her computer spinning just beneath her.
"A suspended motion homing beam; from the 1960's!" she said, to respond to the looks she was receiving. "A 'software patch'!"
The Doctor grinned, crossing his arms. "Mitsy, you genius!"
"I recalibrated the laser beam activator, using simple hacking skills… Thaxton will have my head, but you know what, everybody lived, so I'll go with that to defend myself." She explained.
"Yes, Thaxton will be thrilled." Rose remarked, and rolled her eyes lightheartedly, reaching for the Doctor's hand below her.
He grasped her fingers, pulling her down to him as they spun giggling. Warren didn't look the least bit amused.
"I'm not getting court-marshaled for this, am I?" he asked flatly.
"'Course not! Now lighten up! We're soaring over St. Petersburg. Go on, look around… and then you can thank me, in kind, for beaming you instead of blasting you." Carla said, swiping her computer from where it levitated.
He simply groaned, buckling the straps of his backpack securely and, despite himself, obliging her by taking a panoramic view of his surroundings. Below him was Palace Square, St. Petersburg, and though he'd never say it out loud, it was breathtaking.
Meanwhile, the Raxelmari were having a heated argument in their native language that the Doctor and Rose were biting their lips to keep from laughing at it.
Another cliffhanger! (Sorry... it was growing a bit long, and rather choppy, so I thought I'd just save the rest for later. How much later depends on the reviews!) So, I tried to clarify some character points, and bring about some technical aspects as well, like Carla's wardrobe and the fact that Rose and the Doctor can still understand foreign languages... but that's a plot point I'll elaborate more on later. Hopefully, the pacing wasn't too atrocious... it'll be far more improved in the next chapter!