Reviews appreciated, still looking for editors. The usuals.
A reminder that Stroyet days are roughly twelve hours long, not twenty-four.
CHAPTER 8. Worst Soldier Ever – 12 October 2010
The TARDIS doors opened and a river of flaming hair appeared in the doorway.
"Wow! We actually ended up where I wanted. That's a first for me," Amy remarked, stepping into the dimly lit cavernous room, which was filled with dark grey boxes stacked at least fifty feet high.
"A first?" It was the stroyeteli Captain, whom Amy had taken a shine to, following behind her.
"Yeah. Last week I tried flying us to Hawaii, only to end up right on top of a volcano which was busy spewing out lava. The Doctor gave me an earful," she said, grinning. "I guess Mrs Doctor helped me out a bit this time." She patted the blue box fondly.
"Mrs Doctor?"
"Oh, yeah, that's my nickname for the TARDIS. Mostly to tease the Doctor. Seriously, the way he talks to it when he thinks he's alone..."
"I'm not sure I want to know."
"Good plan," she agreed with a laugh.
General Gordost, having finished his appraisal of their immediate surroundings, decided that this was enough levity for now – they were on a mission to save their world, after all.
"General. Captain. If you please." Amy and the Captain moved away from their own little musings and joined the rest of the soldiers. "Alright. Now, according to General Pond-" Amy still couldn't help but smirk at that "-and her sonic phone, we have just over thirty three Earth hours remaining before this fleet is in range of Zvezda. We'll need to confirm that by star triangulation when we can, but that the TARDIS landed us precisely where our computer predictions said the flagship storeroom would be at this time is a good sign. So for now, assume we have just under three days remaining."
Gordost paused, allowing that critical piece of information to sink in. "Now, there's far too many of Them for us to even think about fighting them, so our safety will be in smaller groups. I will lead one, the Captain will lead another, and General Pond – General!"
Amy snapped back to attention, having been distracted by her futurstic, oversized pistol (as it'd been designed for a six fingered-hand). She really was the worst soldier ever. "Yes! Sorry."
General Gordost shook his head, his lip curling slightly. She didn't need her telepathic abilities to know his thoughts mirrored her own.
"As I was saying, I will lead one group, the Captain will lead the second and General Pond will lead the third. General Pond's group will head to Navigation to try and sabotage the fleet's engines, buy us time and with luck, leave it stranded in deep space. The Captain will head to Weapons Control and try to disable the atom-laser batteries. My group will head to Central Command to try and neutralise the fleet from there. Any questions?"
"Er, yeah. I have one," she answered.
General Gordost turned to face her. "Yes?"
"Are we gonna be able to stay in touch with each other? I mean, splitting up is all well and good but..."
"Ah. Thank you for reminding me." He took out three small black earpieces from his pocket, clipping one on his own ear and handing the other two to Amy and the Captain, who did the same. "Quantum communicators. Encrypted, so we should be completely immune to eavesdropping. It'll also allow us to track each other's progress."
Amy didn't quite understand what he was talking about, but she decided to take his word for it. She made a mental note to check a physics textbook if – when – they finished their mission.
"Anything else? No?" Gordost looked around the group, seeking a response. He didn't get one. "Alright, people. We've got ten billion people to save."
"You know, I've travelled with a lot of people in nine centuries, but I can't remember the last time one of my companions tried to steal my TARDIS." The Doctor was pacing the garden, restless, frustrated by the recklessness of his best friend.
"How do you know she stole it? Someone else could have piloted it. Or forced her to do it for them."
"My people would never do that," Nadezhda pointed out defensively.
"I'm sorry, but your people kind of kidnapped her. I'm not really about to give the benefit of the doubt here."
The Doctor shook his head. "No, Rory, she definitely took it and she was definitely doing it of her own will. I installed emergency programs that would activate if anyone other than me or my friends was trying to pilot the TARDIS, or if they were being forced to do so. If she didn't take it, or she was being made to, I'd know. I suspect the TARDIS helped her out as well... I'll be having words later." He stopped pacing and stood perfectly still, his eyes burning with annoyance and concern. "I have to talk to the rulers of this place."
Nadezhda frowned. "I'm sure they'll be sympathetic to your concerns, but with doom impending I think they'll have bigger problems than there whereabouts of the friend of an alien visitor."
"Ah, but I'm not just any alien. I'm the Doctor, the last of the Time Lords and the Oncoming Storm. I can help you save your planet, but not without my TARDIS and not without Amy."
Nadezhda considered the Doctor carefully. By every Stroyet standard imaginable, the Doctor was completely mad, right from the way he talked to the way he dressed – especially the way he dressed. However, from the moment he walked in his shop, he just had this feeling that this was a good man who he could trust with his life – and his planet. He nodded.
"All right."
An hour later they pulled up in front of the same marble building Amy had been whisked off to the previous day. "This is it," Nadezhda told them, waiting for them to exit his transport.
"Wait, you're not coming?" the Doctor inquired.
Nadezhda smiled. "Doctor, I am but a simple shopkeeper. You're trying to save our planet. Let's just say it's above my salary." The Doctor smiled and patted his back encouragingly.
"You'd be amazed at what a shopkeeper can do. You know, my friend used to be paid to kiss people at parties for fun." The Doctor wrinkled his nose slightly. Kissogram... I mean, really. She has the brains for, well, a brain surgeon. "And now she's one of the most powerful beings in the universe."
Nadezhda sighed.
"You really think I won't just be a giant paperweight?"
"Course not. Although paperweights can be very useful in the right circumstances. Anyway, you'll be fine. Trust me. I'm the Doctor."
"Very well."
Heviniye strode her office, constantly throwing nervous glances at the clock. Less than three days... with every second, her sense of fear grew – not for her own life, but her fear that she might let down her people in the worst imaginable manner. However, she now at least had hope – even if that hope rested with a mad woman with a box.
At that moment, two aliens, one of them was wearing one of the most striking assortments of clothing ever seen on Stroyet, burst into the office, followed by a man she recognised as one of the local electronics merchants.
"Er, greetings. Forgive my bluntness, but who on Stroyet are you?"
The odder - what was that on his neck? - of the two aliens clapped his hands and smiled. "Greetings to you too. I'm the Doctor, this is Rory-" the other alien raised his hand in what she assumed was some sort of greeting "-and Nadezhda."
He spoke in rapid-fire tones and it took a moment for what he'd said to register. She blanched.
"You're – you're the Doctor?"
"That's me. I gather you've been looking for me."
"We were, but it's a bit late now. Welcome to Stroyet in any case, Doctor. Is there something you need?"
"Yes, small thing. I came here with a friend, a girl, short skirt, long legs, bright red hair, quite good looking actually. Have you seen her? Her name's-"
"Amy Pond?" If it were possible, Heviniye's face became even whiter.
"You've seen her?" The other alien, the one called Rory, spoke for the first time. "Where is she? Tell me!"
Uh oh. "I promise you I can explain. Sit down and I'll tell you what happened."
"Er – if it's not rude, could you bring out a pie whilst we're talking?" the Doctor inquired hopefully.
She was slightly taken aback by the seemingly out-of-place request, but took it in her stride. "Of course."
"Excellent."
They moved silently through the corridors, jumping between shadows when the guards went off-duty. They moved slowly – they guessed it was only about a kilometre's worth of corridor to the Navigation section, but they had to be absolutely certain they wouldn't be detected before moving. As a result, they'd only covered about a hundred metres in several hours. Amy was at the front of the group, trying to justify her rank, but in reality she deferred to her infinitely more experienced comrades on basically every occasion, although she tried to pass them off as her ideas. The stroyeteli, being gracious folk, allowed her that luxury.
She wasn't completely useless, however – although her carelessness had almost gotten them caught on two occasions. She'd stopped them moving straight in front of a patrolling guard, her telepathically enhanced intuition warning her of the imminent danger. She'd also managed to surreptitiously distract guards on several occasions by making a light, console or other object explode with her sonic phone.
They moved through a door into an empty darkened hallway at the side of the ship. The side wall was entirely glass and Amy moved towards in, taking in the majestic sight of deep space. She'd seen sights like this enough, but it would never, ever get old for her – not if she lived to be a thousand which, of course, was very much a possibility. She heard a scribbling noise, and turned to see one of the soldiers with pen in hand, writing arrays of numbers on the paper and drawing invisible lines in front of him with his finger.
"What are you doing?" she asked, eyebrows raised.
"General Gordost did order us to confirm our position and time by star triangulation at first opportunity," he stated, not taking his eyes off the paper.
"Not got any faith in my flying, do ya?"
The soldier smiled at that, but continued with his calculations. Amy returned her gaze to the vast expanse in front of her. So beautiful, she thought. Just like him.
Wait, a voice replied from inside her. Who's "him"? Rory or the Doctor? She paused. Rory. I mean, Rory. Definitely Rory. Yeah. Rory, she answered, ignoring the decided lack of conviction in her response.
Fortunately for her, the impeding awkward internal debate was stifled when the soldier, having finished his calculations, suddenly spoke, a sharp edge to his voice.
"General Pond? You might want to see this."
She turned to face him, and was bending down to his level, when-
"Hey! Who the hell are you?"
"So she took a bunch of soldiers, flew the TARDIS and landed it right in the middle of the flagship with a view to taking it over?"
"In essence, yes. I assume you would have come up with a better plan?"
"Of course!" the Doctor responded, far too quickly. Heviniye raised her eyebrows. "Well, OK, perhaps." Still the eyebrows were raised. "Fine then, probably not."
"What would you have done?"
"Taken a bunch of soldiers, flown the TARDIS, landed it right in the middle of the flagship with a view to taking it over. Maybe would have forgone the 'taken a bunch of soldiers' bit." He leaned back on his chair, hand resting on his forehead. "The difference, of course, is that it would have been me doing it, not Amy."
"What's the difference? You would have brought her along anyway and she'd be in just as much danger," Rory pointed out, slightly resentfully.
The words stung the Doctor, but he hid the emotion. "Yes, but in this case she did it on her own. I don't think she has any idea what she's getting into."
"Somehow, Doctor, I don't think it would have made any difference either way," Heviniye replied, her lip curling as she remembered just how stubborn the redhead had been during the planning sessions.
"You're probably right about that. Right now we need to contact her." He leaned forward, deep in thought.
"Er – I do remind you that she's on a spaceship that is still a considerable distance from this solar system," Heviniye pointed out. "Any message we send would take many hours to reach her, and hours more still to receive a reply. We don't have such time."
"Faster-than-light communication is a wonderful thing, you know."
Heviniye sighed. "It would be, but we haven't developed that technology yet. There are no faster-than-light communicators to be found here."
"Not a problem. Give me a day or two and I can whip one up. All I need is... wait." A memory suddenly struck him, an image of silver objects being unpacked in a store. "Say, Nadezhda." He turned to the shopkeeper who was sitting in the corner quietly, feeling very much like a giant paperweight. "What exactly do you sell?"
"Oh, consumer electronics. Basic communicators, audio players, that sort of thing."
The Doctor's smile stretched from ear to ear. "Bingo."
If it weren't for Amy's Time Lady reflexes, they surely would all have been killed before they'd even managed to turn around. Somehow, however, she'd managed to instinctively spin around, sonic phone in hand, disabling the guns of the guards who had just entered the room and were mere milliseconds away from pulling the triggers. Before they could even register that their guns had completely failed, the guards dropped to the floor, smoking holes in their jackets.
Amy lowered her phone, breathing heavily. Wow. That was intense. Her gaze caught the face of one of the dead guards, tongue lolling out and the lifeless eyes still half open. She quickly forced her attention elsewhere. You just helped kill people, Amelia Pond.
She shook her head. Now was not the time for guilt. "So, you needed to see me?"
The soldier looked up at her, a newfound respect in his eyes. "Yes, General Pond. I completed the-"
"Listen, the whole 'General Pond' thing is great for a laugh and all, but let's drop it, OK? You're the soldier, I'm just a girl tagging along for the ride. Amy, please."
He smiled. "All right, Amy. I completed the triangulations, and the results aren't exactly what I was expecting." He pushed the notepad into her hands. She looked down the lists of numbers, comprehending precisely nothing.
"Er – what is this all meant to mean?"
He took the notepad back, flipped over a new page and drew a line and several dark circles on it. "This is Stroyet, here." He placed his finger on a dark circle he'd drawn at one end of the line. "And if we were where we thought we were, we'd be here," he continued, pointing at the circle on the opposite end.
"And right now?"
"We're not there. Instead we're here," he said, circling a point in the middle of a line.
"So we're about half as close as we thought we were. Well, we still ended up in the right place. I don't really see the – oh." Her voice fell almost to a whisper on the last word, her cheeks visibly paling even in the darkness of the hallway.
"Yeah."
"So instead of two and a bit days, we have-"
"Just over one. Correct."
"I guess my flying skills aren't so crash-hot after all," she joked, trying to make light of the suddenly much more dire situation. She moved her hand towards the side of her head, getting ready to deliver some very bad news to the other two groups, when a very familiar screeching noise pierced the air and a vibration ran down the hand still holding the sonic phone.
She froze in astonishment. Surely that isn't-
"What the hell is that noise?"
"My phone," she whispered, hardly daring to believe it. "Someone's calling me." With a trembling thumb she pushed the green button on the keypad and raised it to the ear not occupied by the communicator.
A very familiar came through the speaker, laced with mingled irritation and relief.
"So, Pond. Care to explain what made you steal my TARDIS?"
She gulped. Uh oh.