Author's Note: Hurray! I got reviews! Thanks to all you who reviewed. Apparently, I've started this story too slow, with not enough action. I'll remember this for the future, and try to start my stories faster, establishing the world as I go.

Unfortunately, I don't have time to do that now. I've started a second job, and am going to try to pick up an accounting course on the way, as well. I'm hoping I'll have time to do all that and write the next season, since I know that if I leave you guys at the end of this season with nothing written for next, you'll probably hunt me down with pitchforks.

So I'm going to try to devote what little spare time I have to writing the next season. And finishing some edits on this one that I keep meaning to get around to, but never manage to do!

I just rewrote the first story of next season, to make the characters work better. I think it's turned into a very good story - it features Doctor 11, and he sounds EXTREMELY himself.

(Now I need to rewrite the second story of that season, so that it makes more sense. And actually write the rest of the season.)

For now, I'll leave you with this story.

TEN POINTS TO ANYONE WHO KNEW WHAT A CHEVAUCHEER WAS BEFORE READING THIS CHAPTER!

(Why yes, I did take medieval history courses in college. How did you notice?)

Enjoy!

Alison stared down at the gun barrel jutting out of the shopkeeper's hand.

Barely daring to move.

"The Consciousness is interested in you," said the shopkeeper. "And your friends. Your ship is… different."

Alison didn't react.

Just couldn't shake the feeling that she'd seen this before, somewhere! Plastic people springing to life, guns in their hands, threatening to—

"Oh, wait, I know this," said Alison. "You lot are the ones who invaded London in 2005, right? Moving shop-window dummies. I remember that."

The shopkeeper didn't seem any the wiser.

Just kept the gun aimed right at Alison.

"Is… there any reason you're threatening me?" Alison asked. "Or are you just sick of me asking nosy questions?"

"The Consciousness is trapped," said the shopkeeper. "The Consciousness must leave. Two persons are needed. One to morph, carry the Nestene outside the barrier. And an organic element, required onboard your vessel when we depart, so the quarantine system surrounding this planet will let us through. You are the organic element."

"I'm…?" Alison started. Then froze. "Wait a tic. What about Dawn? What about Seo?"

"The brown-haired girl will morph, fuse with the essence of the Consciousness," said the shopkeeper. "The other is of no use to us."

A chill ran through Alison. "You mean you're gonna kill her."

"Yes," said the shopkeeper.

"Well… well… you can't!" Alison insisted. "She's the one who flies the ship. None of the rest of us know how. You can't—"

"The Consciousness has observed you three," said the shopkeeper. "You, organic, are clever. You will find a way. Help us to spread. Or your use will be at an end. And you will—"

The shopkeeper turned white-hot.

Then exploded into a shower of droplets splattering through the air. Alison dove for cover behind a makeup stand, shielding herself from the impact of the melting plastic body.

"Stuck on a hostile alien planet with two gorgeous babes," said the guy with the gun, just behind where the plastic woman had been standing. "Think I lucked out on this mission."

"Planning to 'decontaminate' this one, too, with that gun of yours, just in case?" said a second voice. This one a bit too cold for Alison's liking.

"Love to, but Timmo would shoot me for it," said the first bloke. He stepped forwards, into Alison's line of sight. Offered her a hand up to her feet, which Alison accepted. "Zed Square. Best on duty. Best in the Empire." He winked. "Best with the ladies."

"All that, and not at all full of yourself," Alison commented. "Impressive."

Zed Square gave her an even wider grin.

He wasn't half bad looking, actually. Heavy-duty military type, sure, but the muscles were a definite plus. And the—

"You," said the other one, suddenly looking very alarmed.

Alison glanced over at him. Shot him an odd look. "You all right?"

"He's fine," said Zed Square. He spun around to his friend. "Hey, D-man. Why don't you go take that sunny disposition of yours and use it to light up someone else's day?" He put an arm around Alison's shoulders. "I'm busy here, at the moment, saving my gal…" He glanced at her.

"Alison," said Alison.

"My gal Alison," Zed Square said.

The one dubbed 'D-man' stayed a few moments longer. Staring at Alison, a blank look on his face. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then stopped.

Shook his head.

And headed off.

"Don't mind him," said Zed Square. "Great soldier. But a serious killjoy." He started to lead her away. "Now. Why don't you show me where your space ship is, so we can get you two out of here and on your way?"

"Us two?" said Alison. Then realized, "You found Dawn! What happened to her? That shopkeeper said she was going to turn Dawn into some sort of hybrid—"

"Yeah, but we fixed her up," said Zed Square. "Nothing to worry about."

"And Seo?" said Alison.

Zed Square stopped in his tracks. "There's… another one?"

"Three of us," Alison confirmed. "Seo went off looking for a Bunsen burner. She suspected something was off about this place the moment she arrived." Bit her lower lip. "She better be all right. That plastic creature said it wanted to kill her."

Zed Square checked a little machine down on his belt. Swore. Then gave Alison a fake smile, and led her off. "Why don't I reunite you with the friend of yours we found, earlier?"

"Okay, okay, go slower," said Dawn. "So you're saying this planet is currently being invaded by the… Nestene Consciousness? Which is an alien who can control and psychically manipulate anything made from plastic?"

"Invaded?" said Timmo, with a laugh. "Invasion's already been and gone. This planet is Nestene. Has been for years, now."

Dawn's jaw dropped.

"You didn't know?" Timmo asked. Skimmed his eyes up and down her. "No. Must be too young. It was all over the media, way back when." He snapped his eyes forwards. "Still. You'd think, after you saw the quarantine, that you'd know to stay away. But I guess that's kids for you."

"Then why are you here?" said Dawn. "Are you guys, like, the beginning of a wave of troops that'll crush the Nestene and reclaim the planet for Earth Empire?"

Timmo flashed her a look of mild surprise. "Where've you been? The military hasn't worked like that for decades."

Dawn blinked. "Oh."

"Nope, we're just your average band of chevauchéers," said Timmo. "I mean, there's still an Earth Central Command, don't get me wrong. They're the ones who sent us on this rescue mission. But Earth Central's basically powerless. No one listens to a word they say — except us, apparently." He grinned. "You're lucky we showed up."

"Chevauchéers?" Alison said. "What, you mean like those medieval knight groups, during the Hundred Years War, who raced about the French countryside raiding and causing chaos?"

"I'm not a historian," Zed Square replied. "But yeah. That sounds basically like what we do. Scout the outer reaches of the Earth Empire. Cause chaos in neighboring independent worlds, weaken them from the inside, sabotage and subterfuge. The planet crumbles, infrastructure collapses, indigenous society falls apart. Which is right when Earth sends in colonists and uses that to rebuild the planet in our own image. And so Earth Empire expands."

Alison made a face. "And that's what you do? What the human race does, at this point? Invade planets by stealth and then uproot the indigenous population? That's… that's…!"

She wanted to say horrible.

Except the more she thought about it, the more she realized… that was exactly what her species had always done. All the way back to those early explorers discovering the Americas.

"We should be above that sort of thing by this point in our history," Alison amended.

"Don't knock it if it works," said Zed Square. Adjusted his gun. "This isn't a typical mission, of course. No idea why Earth Central sent us, but at least they're paying us." He shrugged. "That's Earth Central for you — completely powerless and completely nuts."

"Geeze, no wonder this planet fell to the Nestenes," Dawn muttered. "You guys have no central military power behind you. You're all just scattered and random."

"Saved your neck," Timmo pointed out.

Dawn still thought it was kind of a disgusting system.

"Look, I don't like it any more than you do," Timmo admitted. "I'm one of the only people you'll meet in the army who remembers how it used to be. Before World War IV and the military collapse."

"World War… Four?" said Dawn.

A shadow passed over Timmo's face. The scars of a time he didn't choose to remember. Couldn't bear to recall. Then he blinked, and it was all gone.

"Zed Square and Dave — they're good soldiers," said Timmo. "Chose them myself. Right men for the mission."

"And what is your mission?" came a familiar, English-accented voice. "If not to stop this 'Consciousness'?"

Dawn spun around, to find Alison and Zed Square, coming forwards. Looking like the best of friends — or maybe something a little more than that.

"One of the Autons spilled their plans to her," Zed Square reported. "I got intelligence for the quarantine block like you wouldn't believe."

"Good work," said Timmo. "Transmit and give D backup. He'll need all the help he can get." He gestured at Dawn and Alison. "I'll get these two back to their ship and on their way."

"That's the thing," said Zed Square. "According to Alison, they arrived here with three people."

For a moment, no one said anything.

"I see," said Timmo, very slowly. "And there's no—?"

"Check for yourself," said Zed Square, tossing him a small machine. "Not a blip. Not a hint. Nothing."

Alison and Dawn exchanged a quizzical look.

Timmo looked at the machine. Then nodded, tossing it back. "Transmit the data, then strike out. Give D as much backup as he needs. I'll be with you two soon as I can."

Zed Square saluted, then raced off.

"Hang about!" Alison called, trying to race out after him. "I'm coming, too!"

But Timmo caught her fast, and pulled her back. "Hate to say this, Ma'am," he said. "But your friend is dead. A Nestene Metamorphose. Nothing left to do but take her out."

"What?!" Alison and Dawn both shouted.

"We only got five life sign readings," said Timmo. "Three of us, two of you. Your friend is no longer alive. If you've seen her moving around, it's only because the Nestene Consciousness has replicated her. And if you two don't get your ship off this planet, now, she could—"

"You're going to kill her," Alison realized. "Just because she doesn't…" Alison clenched her jaw, and tried to struggle out of Timmo's grip.

"Wait, what…?" Dawn said.

"They think Seo's plastic," Alison told Dawn. "Because their machines don't pick her up. They're going to vaporize her, Dawn! First chance they get!"

Dawn's jaw dropped open.

"If there are no life signs, it means the Nestene's taken over," Timmo said. "There's nothing you can—"

"She's never given off any life signs, you idiot," Dawn snapped. "She's Seo. Machines don't pick her up! It's the way she's made!"

"Which means she's inorganic," said Timmo. "I don't see the problem."

"She's not inorganic, and she's not one of these… Autons you keep going on about!" Alison insisted. "She's a living, breathing person. Just like us!" Alison managed to wriggle out of Timmo's grasp, and regained her footing.

"We gotta find her, first," Dawn said. "Warn her."

They both darted forwards, fast as they could. And ran right smack into an energy barrier.

"You two are civilians," Timmo said. "You're staying with me. No matter what."