Disclaimer: Don't own it.

AN: Sorry about the weird lines in the text but I couldn't figure out how to remove them. So much for upgrades.

Chapter Two

I should Be So Lucky

"Are you sayin' all of these people are salves?" Martha asked in shock.

"Unfortunately," the smile has vanished from the Doctor's face, "Most of them were sentenced for crimes on their homes worlds. Pertonite, other then being one of the richest buildings materials is also one of the most dangerous to mine. So the worlds who use it kill two birds with one stone; make the criminals mine it, get the pertonite and kill off the bad guys."

"That's barbaric!"

"That's business. At least in their minds," the Doctor answered grimly, "But not every justice system is fair and some of these people don't deserve to die like this."

"What about all those little children," Martha pointed to the young ones who were running, coughing and choking to pick up the bits of fallen ore, "They can't be criminals."

"They're the greatest sufferers in this place," the Doctor's face grew graver and a deep line furrowed his brow, "Most of them were born here and this is where they'll die. One month in the pertonite mines ensures that you're going to have bad health, more than that and you're going to die early. Being raised here with kill you in a few years. If you notice none of these children are older than four or five."

"My God," Martha breathed touching her oxygen mask, "I feel so selfish having this while they're sucking poison into their lungs."

The Doctor's eyes softened as they rested on Martha's face, "It wouldn't do them any good, Martha; it's too late for most of them."

"So what're we gonna do about it?" she asked crossing her arms and standing ready, "What's your plan?"

He blinked at her, "My plan? What do you mean?"

"To set 'em free. To help them escape," Martha clarified.

"Martha, I can't do that," the Doctor said ignoring her dumbfounded look, "Some of these people are innocent and I know that's terrible but—I'm not here for that."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," Martha said glaring over her mask, "Do you mean to say that we came all this way to help keep these people in slavery?"

"I came to fix the pertonite converter," he corrected, "There is nothing I can do to help these people."

"Now that is a surprise, even for you," Martha said quietly, "I never would have thought it."

He didn't answer merely looking away. Somewhere below them a child coughed violently and his friends crowded around to comfort as he cried and struggled to bring air into his lungs. They instinctively leaned over the parapet and saw a small girl or no more than ten or eleven holding the child. She seemed to be soothing the child somehow. Beside her the Doctor sucked in a sharp breath as if in pain. Martha glanced at him and saw his eyes were closed and he grimaced as if someone had stabbed him. His hands clutched the railing until the tips of his fingers were white.

"Doctor?"

"Shhh!" his eyes snapped open as the overseer went after the girl and whipped her several times. Martha called out as ribbons of bright orange blood appeared where the whip fell.

"Do something!" Martha yelled, "Ya can't let him beat her!"

"Be quiet!" he hissed.

As she hobbled back to her post, the girl chanced to look up to where they stood. Martha watched as the girl's eyes fell on her and the Doctor, her eyes widen and Martha saw a flicker of something in them but it passed by so swiftly she couldn't be sure.

The Doctor released a shuddering sigh as she disappeared from view and sank back from the railing. Martha caught him as he stumbled a bit.

"What? What is it? What's wrong?" she asked quickly.

He opened his eyes and stared blankly ahead, "Nothing. Nothing I was mistaken I—though—never mind." He looked into her eyes and whispered, "This is a terrible place Martha."

"Then we should try to do something about it," she said she helped him to his feet.

"Martha—" he began and then turned and got off down the corridor they had just come from.

"Where are we going?" she yelled after him.

"To do what I came here to do," he answered and paused so abruptly Martha slammed into him a second later, "Corbin should have met us at the platform but he didn't. That either means he is dead and no one knew we were coming or that he wants us to come to him which is not a good thing either.

"Why don't we just leave?" Martha suggested sarcastically, "I mean, if we're only facilitatin' in the slave trade."

The Doctor gave her a look but was again silent. He pulled his sonic screwdriver from his pocket and aimed it at the door panel on the wall before them. The blue light beamed briefly on the panel and a moment later it slid aside.

"I love my sonic screwdriver," he said happily, "Coming?"

"Not willingly," she muttered under her breath.

"Lucky, who's 'at?" one grubby child whispered to another pointed a filthy finger toward the balcony where the Doctor and Martha stood.

"Dunno," his companion answered and cried as she dropped her load tearing a ragged nail to the quick.

"E're let me help you," he offered.

"No Paul! You can't," the girl pulled a torn piece of material from her sole pocket and wrapped the bleeding finger tightly; "You'd get sick'n we can't do 'at. Remember we gotta get in five loads today or no lunch tomorrow."

"Yeah," he hefted both their loads onto his back, "Go get another and I'll meet up wiff ya."

"Right then," Lucky replied. But she stayed rooted to the spot holding her finger in her other hand.

Her eyes, huge and round in her too thin face, stared up at the strangers. They were arguing from the looks of it, probably disagreeing about how much pertonite to buy. People always argued over pertonite and the prices and how soon they could get it. They never seemed to see behind the bluish ore to the people dying under loads of it. Lucky's attention shifted as another child near her coughed violently. She ducked under a passing ore transporter and wrapped her scrawny arms around them.

"E're now don't cry," she cooed.

Tears poured down the child's face as they struggled to drag air into their lungs; flecks of blood spattered his chin as he gagged. Lucky brushed the ragged hair out of the child's eyes. As she did so she closed her own and thought of all the good things she could remember happening. The day they had off because the machines broke down, the day they got three full meals because they had had a big strike of ore. And the day they got new tools that made mining so much easier.

The child's breathing eased as the pathetic images filled his mind; to him they were like Christmas. His muscles relaxed and air rushed in.

Lucky opened her eyes and smiled brightly, "Now get back ta work or you'll have us all in a bad spot."

He nodded and grabbed his tiny load before trudging off. Lucky looked after him a moment before moving on herself, but not quickly enough. A whip lashed across her shoulder biting painful into her skin. She screamed at the pain and cowered to the ground as the lash fell a second and third time.

"Get off ya arse!" the overseer bellowed, "We don't have time for ya to be sittin' around and cuddlin' brats! Get off!"

"Right sir," Lucky sobbed. She scrambled to her feet clutching her bleeding shoulder where her blood was soaking into the thin sleeve of her top. As she ran back to her post, Lucky glanced up at the balcony.

Time slowed for a moment as her eyes locked with the deep brown eyes of the man above her. Disbelief, shock and confusion poured off him like waves and settled on her as she ran by. But she didn't dare stop or pause although everything in his look commanded her to do so. In her mind she heard a dual beating, an echo of two hearts pumping together—like her own.

TBC