The Rahki on the screen blinked a few times before turning sharply to the side. "Scan that place and find her signal now."

"Oh, push buttons all you want; you won't find me." Scorch held her left arm up. There was a wide, brown strap on it with a flap covering something. "Wrist-worn vortex manipulators," she proclaimed as she tucked the pencil behind her ear. "They do a lot more than manipulate a vortex. They tell the time, check your blood pressure, pick up seventeen different radio stations, and as an added bonus you can even program one to can scramble a signal!" Scorch raised her eyebrows and smiled cockily. "And as you know, I can mess with computer programming like nobody's business."

She looked over at Colonel Mace. "That reminds me; you really need to work on your fire wall. And maybe your security. Not hard to get into this place. Well, for me anyway."

Scorch turned back to the screen. "Am I addressing the secretary or the President?" She glanced away. "No, hang on. Secretary or the Queen? No, wait, she's a figure head. Secretary or the Prime Minister? You know what? Screw that; I'm not British. Secretary or the President?"

The Rahki seemed confused, whether by Scorch's blatant disrespect of him or her recent spiel, Gregory didn't know. He had to confess that she seemed to be far better suited for this task than he was. Secretly, he was thankful that she had shown up.

"Come on!" Scorch said, jumping from the desk and flinging her arms open in irritation. "I didn't come all this way to talk to a flunky! I want to see the Head Honcho, the Big Cheese, the Top Sombrero. You bring in whatever you body swappers call a leader or I ain't dealing."

Scorch leaned back on the desk, using her elbows as support. The Rahki on screen glared at Scorch for a few moments before sighing in irritation and standing up, effectively disappearing from the screen. Scorch tilted her head back around and smiled at Gregory. He wondered for a moment if it was possible to fall in love with a mad woman. "Hi. Could you be a perfectly marvelous dear and get me a coffee? Black, hot, strong as you can get it. Oh, and don't forget the arsenic."

"Arsenic?" he asked, wondering just how mad she was. Scorch rolled her eyes.

"Alright then, drop a uranium pellet in the cup for me to swallow. I need to take the edge off."

Colonel Mace walked quickly up to her, keeping his voice somewhat down. "What exactly do you mean by coming in here and—"

"I'd love to chat and explain everything," Scorch said, cutting him off, "but that's going to have to wait until I've talked with the Rahki and gotten your planet some breathing room."

"This is—"

"A good time for you to shut up? I agree. Now move before he/she/it gets back."

Colonel Mace stared at Scorch, completely gob stopped by her flagrant disrespect for command or system. She turned back to the screen just as another similar looking Rahki stepped into view. However, his hair was cropped very short, dyed white, and he had white eye makeup on that only made his pale blue eyes even lighter. Gregory wondered if these people had something against color.

"Scorch. How good to see that you've developed."

"Oh, growing up is natural, no great accomplishment there. What's your name? Not that I really care, but these good humans will need it for their records when we're done here."

"Assavapisitkul, Dictator of the Rahki."

Scorch winced. "Assavapisitkul? What did you do to deserve a name like that? You know what, just because I'm feeling nice, I'm going to call you Phil. So Phil, I know exactly what you want and I've worked out most of the why. Therefore, my question is this: what happens to Earth if I refuse?"

"Your planet will go up in flames."

Scorch thought for a moment. "You're going to kill us with global warming?" Her voice carried just a hint of mockery.

Assavapisitkul seemed irritated. "No. You are doing that quite well yourselves."

"Ah, now you see that's where you're wrong," Scorch said, pulling the pencil from behind her ear and starting to use it like a teacher lecturing a class. "You know very well I'm not really from here—though I am quite attached to this planet—and you also know that this planet does not in fact choke on the greenhouse gases. Takes a few centuries and a major oil crises, but they pull through. So whatever you have planned out in that silly little box you call a ship, I'm letting you know it's not going to work very well because I have no plans of leaving. Like I said, I'm rather attached to this planet, and last time I ran into one of you funny-not-green men, I was told you were planning to use me to end the known universe. And I like the universe, so give me another sales pitch."

There was a small beep and Scorch looked at the wristband she wore, flipping back the flap. Her face broke into a grin. "Oh talk about timing."

"Colonel Mace," one of the soldiers in front of computer screens said, "There's a second ship in orbit. It seems to have origins different from the Rahki." The woman paused. "Sir, they're signaling."

"Let it through!" Scorch called out. "Smack 'em up next to the Rahki. They can share a screen."

The woman glanced between Colonel Mace and Scorch. The Colonel gave a grudging nod and the soldier pushed a few keys in front of her. The screen instantly split in two, the right side still holding a picture of the Rahki leader, but now the left side held a frame of a man that bore a distinct, though light, reptilian look. There was a large, circular scar at the center of his neck. Scorch gave him a quick nod.

"Julius! How are things back on the Krize home world?"

"My name is General Karzon Kilno, Scorch," he said in a rough voice, bearing further evidence of a damaged throat. "I would be addressed as such."

"You have to earn your rank, Brigadier," Scorch said, the title obviously an insult that she knew the man on the screen would understand. "So, what's your offer?"

"My what?"

"Your offer. Phil here says he's going to burn the planet if I don't go to his ship. I want to know if you have a better choice."

"Your planet will survive if you turn yourself over to us."

"You make me sound like a convicted criminal!" Scorch protested. "Very rude of you. And what if I say I want to stay here and I don't want to 'turn myself over' to you?"

"Then your planet will be crushed under its own weight."

"Come again?"

"We will increase the gravitational pull of your planet until it brings the sky down in upon itself."

"Bit crude for a Krize. Clever though. How do you plan to do it?"

"Simple alchemy," a chipper, male voice said from the entrance to the room. Gregory turned to see a tall, skinny man in a suit and trench coat come striding in. "You rearrange the atoms in the iron core of the planet to form the molecules of something heavier, like, I don't know, lead and watch everything else cave in. Of course, it takes time to work through the layers, so everything else would change first, likely poisoning the water and the soil."

Scorch looked at the man, and Gregory thought he saw something flash in her eyes, but wasn't sure if it was pure joy or pure fear. "Doctor!" she exclaimed with a smile. "Glad you could make it! Thanks for coming to our little meeting."

Gregory felt his eyes widen. The Doctor? The Doctor? He'd read the files on the man; either they were in worse trouble than Gregory had thought, or things were going to be alright. Maybe both.

"Kathryn," the Doctor greeted Scorch. "How long's it been?"

"About two months. How's tricks?" Scorch asked as the Doctor leaned on the desk next to her.

"Oh, bit of this, bit of that. Traveling, running. Not dying. The usual. You?"

"Meh, so-so," Scorch said with a shrug. "Not much you can do when you're locked in a basement in the middle of the Cardiff Rift." The statement had carried a slightly accusing bite.

"So, here's what's happening," Scorch continued without a pause. Using her pencil, she pointed to the two people on the screen. "That's Phil, the Rahki Dictator. He's got plans to bring the Earth down in flames if I don't go with them. However, if I do the universe will likely go up in flames with the Earth. On the flip side, the Krize are going to crush us with a higher gravity and probably bring all the satellites down on our heads. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that if I go with the Krize the Rahki will still burn the planet, but if I go with the Rahki the Krize will continue to crush us. So in essence everybody wants a piece of me, and whoever gets it Earth is still in a pickle."

The Doctor jerked his head sideways. "Sounds like a normal day."

"Yep."

"Are you two finished?" Phil spat out. Scorch stepped forward from the desk, looking like she'd suddenly exploded, the pencil/pointer now being swung more like a sword.

"No I'm not because I have another question. Why did you choose now? I've been sitting pretty here on Earth for two bloody months, and now you suddenly show. What's so special about now?"

"You've charged long enough."

"And both of you plan to bring the planet down around my ears if I don't comply with one or both of you?"

The Krize and the Rahki nodded. Scorch turned suddenly to Gregory. "You there, what's your name?"

"Gregory Bradsford. I'm an ambassador."

"Oh. Sorry about busting up your moment. Tell me Gregory, about how much would you say that screen cost?"

Gregory looked at the screen. "Uh, I don't know. Um, several hundred thousand pounds maybe?" he stammered out. Scorch looked down at the technological help.

"Will I still be in verbal contact with them if that image cuts?"

The soldiers nodded.

"Good."

Scorch threw the pencil at the screen, but it was suddenly made of swirling colors that made it look like a multi-colored lightning bolt. It struck the screen, shattering the glass and sending sparks flying.

"Both of you know well enough what that little move illustrates," Scorch growled. "I am about as near the edge as I can go without tipping. How about we all take two hours so you can both think very, very carefully about destroying a planet I am standing on!"

Scorch made a cutting motion at the soldiers in front of the screens. One of them hurriedly pushed a button. "It's off ma'am."

Scorch turned on her heal, marched for the Doctor, grabbed his tie and started pulling him by it. "I need a word with you," she said, not giving him much of a choice in the matter. She dragged him into one of the adjoining meeting rooms and Gregory heard her voice rise as she started yelling at the Doctor.

Onboard the Rahki Ship

Assavapisitkul glared at the screen. Damn Krize. If they'd left Scorch alone until its designers had run it through its Last Cycle, all this could have been avoided. Scorch could have been collected safely, on time, and with no prolonged exchanges. Damn those blasted, meddling, self-righteous Krize!

Damn the Doctor. Worst of the lot. If he had stopped being so honorable and kept Scorch with him, it wouldn't be so near the breaking point.

And damn that stupid, emotional…human brain Scorch still had. That cursed humanity had sent it back to the familiar setting of the Rift, only after it went all noble protecting its precious Doctor. Now it was using itself to protect a nothing planet. It was too volatile to simply burn the wretched sphere down around it, and it bloody well knew that. Damn humans and their sentimental foolery.

Assavapisitkul snorted. Crazy little spark probably still had its TARDIS Key around its neck, even though it professed to not want the Doctor near it.

The Key. The TARDIS Key. The one-of-a-kind, blindingly unique TARDIS Key. Assavapisitkul turned to one of his many attendants. They snapped to attention.

"Get the TARDIS Key that we managed to take from the Doctor back on Beriin. Dig down through as many layers as you need to expose the base of it. Once you have that, start scanning the planet—no, just that base—for identical signatures. If we can't use the signal it's already giving, we can get it with the Key."

The attendant saluted. "Yes Dictator."

Onboard the Krize Ship

General Karzon studied the blank screen, thinking. The Rahki had cut communiques as soon as Scorch had given her time limit. She wasn't dull, he'd give her that. She knew the power she held, both literal and figurative. Lives, people, in some ways all existence depended on who got her in the end.

However, at the moment the ball was very much in the air. Karzon knew, and the Rahki knew, and Scorch knew, that it was beyond dangerous to physically damage, emotionally upset, or otherwise disturb her right now. She was in a highly volatile state. Time would disintegrate if she was set off unsupervised, and anything could set her off.

Maybe…maybe that was what he wanted.

"Sir," a young soldier said. "What do we do now?"

Karzon smiled lightly. 'Military' was a loose word for the Krize army. They were making it up as they went along, never having needed armed forces before.

"Start setting up the Atomic Reorganizer, and see if you can find a way to contact Tr—ah, Scorch without her makers knowing about it. If required, we'll send someone down to the surface to talk to her."

"May I ask why Sir?"

"She may be young, a bit impulsive, and a product of the Rahki, but she'd not stupid by any means. Scorch understands—by now all too well—just how dangerous she is. She'll be looking for a way to save Earth, and she'll eventually turn to us."

"Why would she look for a way to us, Sir?" the young man asked.

Karzon debated, then decided to oblige him. "She failed to call the one man who might have saved her; the Doctor. Scorch was obviously surprised and irritated that he came. Beyond anything else, she wants him safe. We just have to provide her with that opportunity."

"And what if she doesn't want to come, Sir?"

"Then we'll push her until she can't refuse us."

*Constructive critisisim welcome, praise happily accepted, flames not wanted*