Sorry about the delay, all. An enormous backlog of uni work has built up over the last week, and I need to deal with it post-haste, and will be doing so for quite some time. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. I've actually written almost all of the next chapter (which will end this particular little story arc) and have a few more chapters on the boil after that.
Reviews etc. - you know the drill.
CHAPTER 11. How To Kill A Star: 13 October 2010
Utter silence. No one in the room dared even breathe too loudly, let alone move. The Doctor's voice boomed out of the speakers once more.
"Well, come on. I know you're mere minutes away from popping a star and wiping out ten billion people, but surely a friendly conversation would go amiss?"
The leader moved slowly down the stairs towards the PA terminal, his hands balled into fists and his eyes slits of raw fire. He reached the PA terminal and activated it, his voice kept artificially level and dangerously quiet.
"Welcome to the ship, Time Lord."
"Ah, so you were expecting me! No need to worry about the welcoming party though, did fine on my own."
"You're not as subtle as you think, Time Lord. We've been detecting strange signals coming off this ship for close to a full Stroyet day now."
A brief silence.
"Er, well, yes, that can happen. Still, had a good look around. Love the décor, very... clean. What's your name, by the way? Oh right, you lot don't have names; that's inconvenient. How about Jack? Great name, got a friend called Jack. Biggest flirt in the universe I'd say, and that's saying-"
"What do you want, Time Lord?"
The Doctor's voice remained bright and cheery, but a slight yet perceptible note of menace had crept into it. "Ah, well, boring question. The interesting question is, what do you want, Jack? From this? From killing ten billion innocent people?"
"Innocent?"
"Yes, innocent. Stroyet hasn't attacked, threatened or damaged any other planets in generations."
One of the operators signalled to the leader. Grim, mirthless amusement entered his voice as he acknowledged the gesture. "Ah, Time Lord. You really have no idea who we are, do you?"
"Well... you're blowing up a star in about an hour's time, and you, erm, like the colour grey. Alright, you got me on that one."
"How about we show you? You wanted a conversation. It's only polite that we have it face to face."
"Love to, but would rather not. Obvious reasons. Sorry, Jack."
The leader's mouth broke into a smile for the first time in days – a smile borne of cruelty, glacier-cold and devoid of all mirth. "Time Lord, I don't think you have a choice in the matter."
"Nonsense. Always have a choice. A PA link is a perfectly good medium for a negotiation, anyway."
The leader's brow briefly furrowed, puzzled. "Negotiation? Ah..." he sighed as realization hit him, his smile widening. "You brought Secretary Heviniye along, did you? Even better. Then our little chat will be even more lovely. Farewell for the moment, Time Lord. We will see each other shortly."
He deactivated the PA, turned to the guard leader and nodded. "Do it."
General Gordost was worried. Very, very worried. For starters, he didn't like that a piloting error had left their original plan completely unworkable. He didn't like the new plan, related to him by General Pond who had unexpectedly caught up with them several hours beforehand – it seemed to rely an awful amount on one very, very big risk. Most of all, he especially didn't like that he could physically count down the minutes until his star died, taking his planet and his people with it. He glanced at his timekeeper.
"Two hours, General Pond."
"Amy. Please."
"My apologies, Amy. As I was saying, two hours."
The girl closed her eyes, furrowing her brow as if trying to sense some invisible field around her as the group hid in a darkened server room. She probably is, the General thought shrewdly.
"Should be enough. Just. We'll have to hurry. Will the other groups make it in time?"
"They should, yes. We had made by far the most progress and the corridors leading towards the command centre, naturally, are the most heavily defended area of the ship. If we make it, so will they."
Amy smiled. "That's why they pay you the big bucks, General."
"Sorry?"
"Never mind." Her smile faded as she returned to concentrating on the task at hand. Rory, sitting next to her, looked on in mild wonderment – she'd never seen Amy so sombre, so serious before.
She really takes this Time Lady stuff seriously, doesn't she?
"Not much good if we don't, though. Best get moving again," Amy declared, standing up and re-equipping her phone, rest break over. Rory had to be dragged up by his fiancée – unfortunately, as the only human in the group, his endurance levels were considerably lower than the others. Amy had already started teasing him about it. He didn't bite back – he knew that if he complained, Amy would insist on them taking more breaks for him (during which she would mercilessly poke fun at his tiredness), meaning they would be cutting their timing even finer. Rory didn't want ten billion people to die either. Besides which, he ended up getting his revenge in some small manner, as Amy was now becoming quite tired of the 'General Pond' moniker.
Back in the present, Amy was pressing her head to the door, an action that Rory had found odd at first, but he'd since ascertained that it was her way sensing stray emotions and thoughts – and hence other people – on the other side. It was a unique skill, based on how she'd just smirked when he'd asked if the Doctor was capable of the same. Here she'd evidently detected none, as she quickly sonic-unlocked the door and lead the group out of their hiding place, Gordost and Rory immediately behind her.
They continued at previously unprecedented speed down the dim steel-lined corridors, a mixture of Gordost's military expertise and Amy's natural ability ensuring their pace was high and their chance of detection was low. Despite this, the General's worry only increased as the minutes continued to tick down relentlessly, a gradual and unstoppable force inexorably leading towards the death of his people.
"Forty-five minutes. I hope to high heaven this plan works. If you'll forgive me for saying so, Amy Pond, it doesn't strike me as watertight. I just pray that the Doctor knows what he's doing."
She smiled. "Don't worry. He does. He always does. Even when he looks like he doesn't – which is quite a lot of the time."
The General studied the youthful redhead carefully. "You don't strike me as someone who's just going to go along with everything he says."
The smile wilted slightly, and there was brief silence as Amy weighed up her response. "You're right," she began, slowly, "I don't. But I should. He's always come through for me, and he's the most important person in my life – well, second most," she added briefly after receiving a reproachful look from Rory, "But – I don't know... I should. I should. Right now, at this moment, I am."
He fixed his eyes on the Time Lady's, watching them flicker enigmatically in the dull corridor lighting. He could see the vibrancy of youth there, accentuated by her nature, as well as relentless optimism, boundless determination and strength... but there was more. He had been around in his long life – he could recognise pain, mistrust, vulnerability when he saw it, and it was there. Buried deep within the green wells. So deep, so hidden by layers of defences that he wasn't even sure she was fully aware of it.
The girl noticed him staring and gave him a querying look, and he snapped his gaze back to the front and centre. He choked off his previous train of thought and returned his concentration to the present task. There was a planet to save.
The leader had returned to his balcony overlooking the command centre. Despite the unexpected and very pleasant windfall that he was about to take custody of, it had been an unexpected twist to proceedings. He didn't like unexpected, especially not at this critical stage, so had decided to personally oversee the last part of the operation.
His burning worry and horror when he had last stood on the same balcony, having just surmised that the one thing, the one force that could disrupt this plan had been aboard his ship for hours, had vanished. It had been replaced by pure elation and anticipation, stemming from the removal of this final threat, from the final completion of a decades-long vendetta and from the fact that he would be able to show Secretary Heviniye, leader of those hated stroyeteli, their final defeat.
He had no intention of killing either of his captives. Heviniye would be stew as the last of her kind, just as he and the rest of his crew had done for years uncounted. As for the Time Lord... well, he couldn't exactly learn how to pilot a TARDIS on his own, could he? A preliminary search had revealed no clues as to its location aboard the ship, but it was a low priority matter. Without the Time Lord, it wasn't exactly going anywhere. As a completely unnecessary precaution, he had doubled the security on the critical corridors leading towards the command centre, navigation and weapons systems nonetheless.
At that moment, the Doctor and Heviniye entered the room, handcuffed and flanked by a pair of black-clad guards and a stroyeteli he didn't recognise at all. The guards stood ready, guns trained on their charges – security was necessarily somewhat light within the command centre, as there already was barely enough space to go around anyway, so no one was willing to take any chances.
The leader descended the balcony and appraised the Time Lord, taking in his youthful appearance and strange attire.
"I must admit, Time Lord. I am somewhat disappointed. I would have thought the man who has single-handedly defeated both the Time Lords and the Daleks, multiple times, would have found something better to wear than a bow tie."
The Doctor bristled indignantly. "Oi! They're cool."
The leader laughed, the sound echoing through the chamber, as if he were a parent dealing with a petulant child.
"And Secretary Heviniye," he said as his gaze fell upon her, eyes narrowing with hatred as he took in the stiff-backed suited woman. "I have nothing to say to you, or your people. I only require that you watch."
The woman said nothing, only returning the contempt in equal measure with her eyes.
"Why are you doing this?" the Doctor asked, struggling vainly against his bonds. "What's in it for you? Who are you, anyway?"
The leader smiled. "Well, let's answer that last question first, shall we?"
The leader raised his hand, open-palmed, holding it directly before the Doctor's eyes. They widened in realisation.
"Six fingers..." he whispered. "You're stroyeteli."
"We are not stroyeteli," the leader replied, spitting out the final word in disgust. "We are Them. The ones that they abandoned, forgot in a distant planet, no family, no hope of aid or deliverance, to rot and wither. And all in the name of good business practice. All those who were not worthy of partaking in your little paradise planet you call home. Well, no more. No more paradise planet. We are the abused and maligned prisoners, taking Their revenge on those who spat at them, threw stones and jailed Them for a crime they did not commit."
"You are our children. Our brothers." Heviniye replied, disgust and horror permeating every word.
"Your children?" The leader laughed bitterly. "Do you throw your children onto the street to wither and die? Do you abandon your brothers in a god-forsaken hell hole with no means of survival? We are as much the children of Stroyet as, well, Stroyet itself will be. In half an hour or so."
The Doctor sighed in mock boredom. "Sorry for interrupting this fascinating monologue," he interjected, voice dripping with sarcasm, "but where did you get this ship, out of curiosity? And all the others in this fleet?"
"Some of Us were left at old, dilapidated industrial sites. We recycled the technology and used it to start our revolution. Once We were organised, like the beginnings of an avalanche on a snow-covered mountain, We were unstoppable."
The Doctor groaned. "Great. Now pulling out all the similes, too. HologramTropes would have a field day with you. Doesn't matter – because this ends here. It ends now." The leader laughed again, a great booming laugh of astonishment and amusement at the pitiful defiance of the last of the Time Lords.
"Please, Time Lord. I am fully aware of what you are capable of, which is why you are here. With me, in my sight. You are not a magician, you cannot suddenly undo those handcuffs and grab your sonic screwdriver to disable all our weapons. This plan will succeed, soon, with both of you watching. In just fifteen minutes you will see just how to kill a star. You are all alone, bow-tie wearing Time Lord." The mocking tone on the last five words was unmistakable.
The Doctor swallowed a deep breath, readying himself. "OK. OK. Where to begin... firstly, they're cool. And they always will be. Secondly, my name is the Doctor, so please at least have the courtesy of using it or I'll start calling you Jack again. Thirdly, good job on the whole 'grab the sonic' thing, 'cos I'll admit that that's exactly what I would do if I could undo these handcuffs. Which I can't." He paused, lip curling every so slightly as he felt the tiniest rush of displaced air passing over him, imperceptible to all but a Time Lord.
Thank you Amelia Pond. Told you it would be worth keeping in mind for the future.
"Nope, Amy, still big, blue, and very visible."
A loud and strongly Scottish-accented string of expletives and other associated curses followed, some in English and some in what Rory presumed was Gallifreyean. He smiled – Amy's temper had always been one of her more endearing qualities. When not directed at him, anyway. He heard the stamping of feet, the creaking of metal against metal and a few more dark curses.
"Alright, trying another one," came the muffled voice from within the TARDIS. "Ready in three... two... one."
A reverberating hum and a shiver ran through the floor. The TARDIS faded into the blackness behind it. So either it worked or she's gone off somewhere by accident, Rory thought, slightly nervously.
"Er... Amy? Still there?"
"'Course I'm here, moron," came the irritated reply. Rory had to laugh.
"OK, OK, just checking. Thought you might have flown off by accident or something."
"Accident? You doubting my flying skills now?"
"Of course not. It worked, by the way. Can you open the doors for me? Can't exactly see them, you know."
Out of nothingness a door opened, and the redhead pulled him inside. Gordost and all the assembled troops were waiting within, packed into the console room. Nadezhda had withdrawn inside, sensibly deciding not to partake in the next part of the plan. Fortunately there was little space to move around inside, which meant little space for a private chat – Rory had already caught Amy flirting with three different soldiers and the Captain. She'll never change, will she? At the moment, however, she was pacing the console, murmuring to herself.
"Alright, so cloak on," she muttered, one finger on her mouth and the other pointing at the console panels. "Engine silencers on. I think." She paused, briefly making sure that she had heard the Doctor correctly. "Yeah. Blue levers on the second panel. Okay... I think we're good, General."
The General checked his timekeeper. Fifteen minutes. It was time.
"Ready, Amy Pond?"
Amy grabbed her sonic phone in one hand and gripped the flight lever. "Ready. Let's do this thing."
The leader's eyebrows were raised. "And so...?"
"Oh. Yes. Sorry. Up to four, aren't I? Right. Four, you're correct in saying that I would just sonic – no I've already said that. Try again. Four, your plan will not succeed, and Heviniye and I will not be watching Stroyet get pulverized, because it will not happen. Not today. And five, I've always loved fishing, how about you? Wonderfully relaxing past time, especially good on Callista Beta." An indulgent, knowing smile had found its way onto the Doctor's lips.
The leader's eyes narrowed at the smile. "Time Lord, in case you had forgotten, you are alone, the last of your kind. And you will not be doing anything now."
The smile remained fixed. "Well, Jack, as far as big pronouncements go, that wasn't too bad. I'll give you a pass. But unfortunately, it doesn't make any difference. I won't be the one stopping you, but it will happen. I assure you."
The leader chuckled at his continued stubbornness. "And who, pray tell, will be stopping Us if not you?"
"Me."
The leader whipped around to see a flame-headed girl, green eyes blazing fiercely, holding a strange device with a gleaming crystal attached to the end.
A buzzing noise, a brilliant purple light, and all hell broke loose.
Should mention. It's not the Jack, as in it's not Jack Harkness. It's the name the Doctor came up with - "the leader" is a rather lame moniker to be repeating out loud. The Jack will probably make an appearance soon.