A/N: Hello all! Thanks for the reviews to: My Reflection, Basia Orci, Robin Moto, OtherMeWriter, and BalrogsBreath.
Thanks for the Story Alert/Favorite Story to OtherMeWriter. Welcome to Story Alert readers Sahalean and ChaosCarlos.
Cast cutdown: yes, I plan on some of them surviving to reach Helion Prime. Some may die (lets hope not, but I must warn you that they are dealing with folks that have guns here so keep that in mind). By about midway through this story I envision Jack, Ali, Imam, Fry, and Johns parting from the others either catching another ship or being dropped off on Helion Prime.
The TARDIS is certainly a character in my 'Verse. She's got a vested interest in keeping things flowing, you know, but she'll never be just a 'plot device'. I've got a doomsday parasite for that.
Will this be Slash? Will this be 'Doctor mentors young folk'? Hey, why can't it be both? Or neither? Or… Excuse me, I'm rambling. :-P
My current plan is to trust the Doctor and just write the story. Let's see where it goes.
Leela was from the "far future" and the product of a breeding experiment that the 4th doctor started when he left the main computer of the settlement suffering from multi-personality/ god complex (when he blows it he does so in magnificent fashion). There were the Tesh (who had superior psychic abilities and gifts for mechanics) and the Sevateem (warriors of excellence). Leela pushed her way into the TARDIS, traveled with the 4th Doctor, and then left him for another Gallifreyan named Andred (she was the only non-Gallifreyan companion he ever took to Gallifrey, I do believe). Books develop her role on Gallifrey further. I'll post more in the forum.
Yes this is going into Dark Fury. 'Course they got no skiff. I'm changing the beginning a bit to accommodate their arrival on the TARDIS. And there's another problem. They are off by a few years, so leaving on a shuttle is out, unless they all decide to start over somehow.
Let's see how long it takes for them all to realize that they are about 17 years behind themselves, ok?

Summary: The Doctor, reeling from the effects of the TimeWar as the last surviving TimeLord, stumbled into a situation he could not ignore when the TARDIS landed him inside a ship that was clearly in trouble. After the rescue, he's left with eight survivors that he must somehow get to safety. But the situation is not as cut and dry as he might like. His people may be gone, but the stamp he's made on the universe is still there, and he finds himself caught in a web spun of the choices he's made in the past…

It's 2517. Something in history has prompted humanity to explode out from their home world. Could the events of 2164 be responsible? Was Earth a myth or was it real? In fleeing Earth-that-Was, humanity scattered to the stars across the galactic arm. Initial survey teams targeted likely planets and systems for habitation and not all of them ended up on the same side of the sector. Blue Sun exists on one side, separated by a patch of 'wild space' filled with exotic binary and triple star systems, from the rest of civilized space.

Few ships brave the route. But luck had it that one ship did. Risking a ghost run, the only contact that the two sides have, the Hunter-Gratzner crashed midway through the journey. Original Port of Departure: Eavesdown Docks, Persephone. Mixed Sino-Anglo culture. Original Port of Call: Tangiers-5. Darkside. Mixed Islamic-Anglo culture. Crew complement: Four. Passengers: Forty. Living 'Cargo': Two. Survivors: Eight plus One

So what happens to Dr. Simon Tam, his brilliant but damaged sister, a convicted murder by the name of Richard B. Riddick, and the other survivors from the crash of the Hunter-Gratzner at planet M-344/G-2 now that they are on their way home? They end up slightly out of their own Time, on a ship filled with living sculptures… And just how is this related to the TimeWar?

A Doctor Who / Firefly / Riddick crossover.

Features Doctor 9, Pre-"Rose"; Simon and River Tam, Pre-"Serenity" Firefly episode 1 and the survivors from Pitch Black: Carolyn Fry, William J. Johns, Imam Abu al'Walid, 'Jack B. Badd', Ali Abdullah, and Richard B. Riddick…

Doctor Who and the Ties that Bind.

Part Four

Stratagem

Pristine white halls faintly lit with ambient lights, glittering in reflective majesty passed nearly unseen as he ate up distance with his stride. The air he gave off was one of power, leadership, and loyalty. The hidden implants that connected him with the ship were a small price to pay for the rank in Kova society that he gained by having them. That his black hair was fake because of the alterations made to the surface of his scalp and brain was a minor drawback. He'd been able to choose the color, and would, in another eighteen months, be able to change the style if he wanted. Junner was considering perhaps something longer that he'd be able to pull into a ponytail or wear loose.

He was as good as married into the Chillingsworth clan, with as connected he was. His commander/sometimes lover/employer knew his location and biological state at all times. There was little he could hide from her. There was little he wanted to. His willingness to submit to her will and twisted urges had made him a rich man. His total devotion had turned him into a captive one. At least Antonia kept her favored toys in style.

Junner had worked very hard to attain his position with the owner of the Kubla Khan. He'd bent every way she demanded, jumped when she said, put his life in her hands, and took the punishment when she felt he deserved it. Without question. She'd rewarded him for that, taking him into her bed, lavishing him with the most advanced technology Kova produced, granting him rank and prestige.

He was young to have reached this post, second in command, and he knew it was his because of his hands on approach to dealing with anything that came into his sphere of influence. Like his mistress, when it was time to get his hands dirty he dove in with relish. And when he did a good job his reward was more than monetary. He knew that she was interested in anything unusual, particularly deviants to the human race. She did not believe that other intelligent life existed, choosing to see the variations in space as offshoots of the main human stock. If he disagreed with her, he did so in silence.

And he could call up examples that made him not so sure. Some of the beings she'd dealt with couldn't qualify as 'human'. The Shrill, for example, were an offshoot of Kova's Skaro-based allies. No matter what his Keeper thought, nothing that looked like an octopus with a rotating brain in the center of their transparent heads could be human. He doubted that they ever were. But Antonia placed little faith in genetics that indicated the race was completely inhuman and foreign.

And for that matter, their living enemies, the 'elementals' of Quintessa, might look human, but there was little way that they could still be human anymore. They had 'evolved' so far mentally that the element they resembled showed as they blended with it. Earth, Air, Fire, Water, Aether, and Void… They thought with a different outlook, calling themselves the 'Children of the Red Guardian' and proclaiming that the only salvation for the universe was balance. Right. Crazy nutters. Anti-religious freaks. How entire planets of them managed to still exist he didn't know. If he had one wish he'd wish them gone.

Someday he'd be faced with the challenge of capturing one of each for the sake of his mistress's fetish. But he loved the reward for success.

His earpiece crackled before a voice informed him, "We've lost sensor contact with the lifeforms, Sir. However, the energy signature is keying in as Furyan, or Furyan based. It might be a weapon. You are advised to approach with caution. If it is the size that the levels of energy indicate it could take out the ship and a sector of space with it."

Now this was disturbing news. The Furyans were toppled almost thirteen years ago and the planet rendered lifeless five years after. Where would one of their devices have come from? "Are you suggesting that we've picked up a Furyan mine, crewman?" That must have been where he'd seen the pattern before. The war between Furya and a number of other worlds had spilled over and involved Kova for a while because no matter how Kova tried to stay out of it, various allies seemed to have a death wish that involved wiping out every Furyan in existence. And of course the brave foolhardy warriors that the Furyan animals were, they fought to the last child.

"That's the closest thing I've found, Sir. I'll continue to cross-reference." The voice crackled.

"Double check that there is no hull breach." He ordered.

"Sir that is going to require personal investigation. All the internal sensors are offline."

"Erect emergency shielding in the sector."

"Yes Sir."

The black haired man growled as he reached the portal. A crew of mercs waited his command. They were dressed in a mix of styles that were totally based on individual preference. The weapons they carried were ones that they chose. Antonia thought mercs did better with their own gear. That it saved her from buying them uniforms and equipment, was another matter all together. He disliked their lack of professionalism, as they slouched about until he was among them and glaring.

He opened the access port and watched the running lights activate, connecting him with the inner door where two of the more alert and worthy mercs waited. Junner scanned the group and then signaled them to fan out and follow him into the non-gravity area. His boots adjusted with the slightest of twitches of a hand to grip the metallic floor. The others wait a second before following him, the two most foolish, or most power hungry, stepping up to either side.

Guns for hire, guild mercs, every last one of the men and women at his beck and call. All armed to the teeth and prepared for a hard fight. Twenty-three of his 'best'. Of these, only a handful is female, about five of them. And likely they are tougher and meaner than the men are. They follow him up to their commanding officer and his first, a woman with an eye patch and a squinty-eyed man holding a the stub of a half-smoked cig in the corner of his mouth.

"Anything?" Junner asked them as he came to a stop.

The male guard answered, "No sir. No one's been in or out since I locked it down myself. Would have gone to Zero atmosphere, but for the methane leak."

"Why wasn't this leak reported and repaired?"

"I don't know, but I'll take care of the issue, Sir, so that it doesn't happen again."

For Junner this is enough. He trusts these two to handle something if they say they are going to. He looks out the viewing glass; the chamber beyond is a massive multi-story affair, filled with conduits and air ducts. "Increase pressure to ship standard," the dark-haired man in green shades ordered. Without a word the male merc turns to the controls and sets the scrubbers to work. Only the sounds of rustling clothing disrupt the silence for nearly five ticks. He focuses on not becoming antsy. Too much agitation would get him nothing.

"Methane brought into safe levels, Sir. Overall O-2 is thin, but breathable. Green for breach." The woman with the eye-patch says.

Nodding, Junner motioned to the others behind him, urging them out into the space, "Earn your keep." The portal opens and half of the mercs move out into the chamber, fanning out as they search for the cause of the disruption. "There are things out here, in the wild of space, that are far worse than," he snatches a floating bullet out of the air and glares at the clumsy clod who dropped it, "anyone here has ever encountered." He pauses to look at the bullet, "Should you survive this day, it is one you will remember for the rest of your life." Handing the ammo back to the man, he points out toward the others that are already searching, "Do not underestimate the importance of such a thing. Begin."

The second wave springs out and one calls out, "Low, left side. Lifesigns. Two hundred meters. Approaching."

The other mercs all train their weapons on the target indicated by the scanner's red laser square outline.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It hasn't been that long since they exited the TARDIS, but moving through the three-dimensional maze is hard work. Fry is behind Johns, and Riddick is behind her. The two Tams are just behind him, with River doing better than Simon is. The Doctor is helping Ali while Imam helps Jack. Ali would never admit that the experience scares him. But he's happy that the Time Lord is hanging back. The man makes this look easy, traveling without gravity.

The Doctor's mind has been chewing away at the name 'Rychengoll' ever since he heard it. He's got a bad feeling about why they are here. The allies of his enemies spilled out across time and space, and only those that were the most removed should have survived. But if these people are who he thinks they are, then perhaps the War is not as over as he might like. Instead it seems likely that it has changed from open warfare to hit and run jabs. Will he have to spend the rest of his lives fighting an unseen opponent? Or in the end did Kova abandon their secret masters? Perhaps this is what he has come here to discover.

The keen senses of a trained Time Lord have nothing on the wild talent of River Tam, with his being as distracted as he is. She's floating along behind Richard and in front of her brother, as the push themselves from one obstruction to another. "Wait!"

Johns comes to a halt and catches Fry before she can go past him, "What is it?"

"Danger," she replies as if she means to say 'What do you think I'm telling you to wait for, stupid, Santa Claus?'

Now the reactions to this range from eye-rolls to going to high alert to looking for something that might be of use in the unknown situation. While Johns knows his was a stupid question he was kind of hoping she'd say more than just 'danger' like who, how many, how far, what they got to kill them with… useful things to know, really. But then the girl isn't a camera, but a reader. She might pick up intent to kill up ahead and not be able to pick out individuals.

This forces the Time Lord's attention back to the now. His eyes scan the situation and land on the fire foam. Then he notices that Rich is smirking at him. He returns the grin and gives a very slight nod. Together they push off to the pillar where the canisters innocently hang. Those look promising. Sensors are likely heat-based, if his guess about shared technology is correct, so the foam would work quite well as an effective block. And if the cylinders go boom, so much the better.

The redhead watches as the bronze-skinned man and the slightly taller gent behind him both home in on the fire foam containers dangling from a support post. Amazing, really. They don't even need to speak to each other, just going for the same plan like it's a given, not even asking what sort of danger that the slight raven-haired girl senses. Then again, he's noticed that they work in concert with the Tam kids too. He thinks it's kinky.

"What you gonna do?" Jack asks, all full of curiosity.

Riddick and the Doctor get the canisters down and the goggled man says, "Block their handheld sensors, hopefully. Any idea how many there are, River?"

"Two dozen. Plus. Waiting. With guns," she says.

Ok, that theory was wrong. Johns makes a face at the wispy lass dressed in combat boots and bike shorts with a dress over the top. He's going to have to learn to be more specific with his questions or she'll make him look like he has the intelligence of a flea. Then again from what little he remembers of her math skills it's quite possible in comparison that he does have the intelligence of a microscopic insect. The marshal sighs. Then Jack starts talking and draws his attention away from the brain difference between himself and the genius level of the Tams.

"I don't think fire foam is gonna do much against bullets, Riddick," the boy says.

"You'd be surprised, kid." Johns lets off a little laugh. "Rich can do a great deal with things you've never thought of. Just keep the boys with you, Imam, and stick close. Fry, keep a guard on them."

Carolyn gives Bill an expression of exasperation.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Twenty meters, Sir," calls the merc with his target pinned to the opening that the 'invaders' had to exit out of.

Junner pulled up his audio enhancer, making his voice louder, "Unidentified party, state your intent and affiliation." His form is held rigid by nervous tension. They should be close enough to hear him. He better not have to repeat himself, because he hates having to repeat himself. He is greeted with silence that makes him have to force the anger down, "Unidentified party! State your intent and affiliation."

"I've lost them, Sir. The readings just -- disappeared."

Junner growls.

Then a quite reasonable voice comes from the shadows, "Pardon, if you please, but could you identify yourselves first?"

Something about that request comes across as totally sensible, and rather in spite of himself Junner replies, "You are on the Kubla Kahn, private flagship of Antonia Chillingsworth. I am Junner, Second in Command. And you are?"

"Oh, I'm the Doctor," answered the voice with just a touch of humor.

The black haired man turned his attention to the station next to the door and set up a voice pattern match request. "And what brings you to this lonely corner of space, Doctor?" He needs to keep his unseen opponent talking, as the program is not coming up with anything. He's met with silence, and a baffled program that does not match this voice with anyone on record across the entire Six Colonies. "Doctor?" Now that bothers him, this notion that there are Six Colonies when he knows only four still exist. Well, such is tradition. Earth of course was the First Colony, then came Blue Sun, Kova, Fur -- Why is he so distracted today? He forces himself to focus and get back on track.

"Just passing through. I'm sensing that you don't operate under the dictates of universal hospitality standards, seeing as you have twenty-five rather lethal guns of various calibers trained on where you believe I am."

What? The lean man shakes his head, "How is it that you are 'passing through' the ship while we are in deep space?" The voice identification program is picking up indications that the recording and the language he's hearing do not match. The patterns are vastly different than the words he's hearing being spoken. To him it sounds like native Kovan. The patterns are indicating that it's Old Earth English Standard.

"Oh, I think you might already know that. How are your allies, the Austeres of Asylum? Um, wait that might be a few generations back."

At that, Junner senses his mistress approach. It was unusual for her to take direct interest in something that didn't carry a million UD price tag. She scans his attempt and places a slight hand over his own, moving it to gain access to the controls of the station. He glances at her. The beautiful face, ageless in it's perfection, gives him a smirk as she taps her bypass code into the system. He cocks an eyebrow. She flirts. The historical information about the 'Austeres of Asylum' flits to the surface. A dead world for the last two hundred and fifty years, he gleans, one of the original six colonies of humans. But there's something she knows. He can see in her emerald eyes. It is as though she's closing in on a delicate prize that has just fallen into her lap.

"Did you call yourself 'Doctor'?" she calls out. Her voice is like a clear bell, articulating the words in Old English Standard perfectly. Her graceful movements belay the monstrous strength she can call upon in the event that she is threatened. Implants snake like adornments across her skin. She knows every inch of her ship with the affinity of long time paramours. It is her will that keeps every surface spotless. Antonia Chillingsworth believes, totally, in her own perfection, and her own righteousness.

The voice does not answer, but the elegant fingers already have moved to pull up another profile. The language on the screen is not one Junner knows by heart. He's only slightly proficient in it, having learned the basics if the complex format like all Kovan children must do. But he knows the words for 'greatest enemy.' A multitude of faces twinkle past him, blending from one to the other, as if to indicate that they are the same individual. He makes a face of confusion. His mistress taps another button that translates the characters into Kovan.

This creature they are facing is something so rare and dangerous that entire empires quake in their boots over the mere mention of his name. But not Antonia. No. She quivers for another reason. "Destroyer of Worlds? Should I call you Ka Faraq Gatri or Karshtakavaar?" Her voice purrs out the foreign words like a lover's caress, Lust evident in every letter. Like a spider with a fly in its web. "Oh yes, I know who you are, -- Doctor."

This is someone she wants for her collection; someone who would be the shinning capstone of it. The white haired, green-eyed woman gives her second a significant look full of meaning. It promises to be an interesting time if he can give her what she fancies. He aims to deliver. Oh yes he does. "Bring them in," Junner orders.