The Sontaran Stratagem
Donna stood at the controls of the TARDIS, piloting her, while the Doctor looked on nervously, the Professor acting as a secondary pilot on the other side of the console.
"I can't believe I'm doing this!" Donna grinned, excited.
"No, neither can I," the Doctor muttered. What he really couldn't believe was that the Professor actually agreed to Donna's request to learn to pilot the TARDIS, "Whoa, careful!" he banged on the console with a mallet before lifting a lever, "Left hand down! Left hand down!" the ship lurched, "Getting a bit too close to the 1980s."
"What am I gonna do, put a dent in 'em?"
"Well, someone did."
"That was not my fault," the Professor called tersely.
The Doctor rolled his eyes, "So that wasn't the reason you nearly failed your pilot's test?"
"I passed."
"That's only 'cos you wore a skirt!"
She leaned over and stated, "You gave me that skirt."
His eyes widened as he recalled that he had, in fact, given her the skirt she'd worn. He'd told her it was a present, for good luck on her test, but really…he'd seen it and been dying to see her in it. He never told her but…it made her legs look amazing. And now that he thought about it…there was probably a similar one somewhere in the wardrobe…maybe he should suggest…
He looked up to see her eyes were slightly narrowed at him and blushed. She'd caught that.
Before he could stutter out some sort of excuse something started ringing.
"Hold on…that's a phone!" Donna looked around. The Doctor walked around the console and picked up a mobile, Martha's mobile, "You've got a mobile? Since when?"
"It's not mine," the Doctor opened it and put the speaker on, "Hello?"
"Doctor…it's Martha..." Martha's voice filled the TARDIS, "And I'm bringing you two back to Earth!"
The Doctor glanced over to see a phantom of a smile on the Professor's face before it was gone.
~8~
The TARDIS appeared in an alleyway between two buildings, the Professor peeking out quickly before stepping out, allowing the Doctor to follow. They looked over and spotted Martha standing at the end of the path and walked towards her.
"Martha Jones," the Doctor grinned.
"Doctor," she replied, hugging him.
"Ah, yeah!" he released her, "You haven't changed a bit!"
Martha's grin fell slightly as she saw the Professor standing 'at ease' beside the Doctor, making no move to hug her but giving her a nod, "Neither have you," she realized sadly.
"How's the family?" the Doctor asked, trying to change the topic.
"You know. Not so bad. Recovering."
"What about you?"
"Right," Martha laughed, spotting Donna as she approached, "I should have known. Didn't take you long to replace me."
"Now, don't start a fight. Martha, Donna. Donna, Martha. Please don't fight. I can't bear fighting.
"You wish," Donna scoffed, "I've heard all about you," Donna shook Martha's hand, "The Doctor talks about you all the time."
"I dread to think," Martha grimaced at the thought, perhaps that was one good thing about the Professor's quiet personality, she didn't go rambling about things.
"No, no, no. He said nice things. Good things. Nice things. Really good things."
"Oh, my God, he's told you everything."
Donna laughed but noticed something, "Who's the lucky man?"
"What man?" the Doctor frowned, "Lucky what?"
"She's engaged," the Professor stated, giving a short nod at Martha's fingers, startling the girl with her sudden speech, she hadn't said a word the last time they'd seen each other.
Martha just smiled, happy that the Professor had noticed, and wiggled her left hand fingers, revealing her engagement ring.
"Really?" the Doctor's eyes widened, "Who to?"
"Tom," she smiled, "That Tom Milligan. He's in pediatrics, working out in Africa right now. And yes, I know, I've got a doctor who disappears off to distant places, tell me about it."
"Is he skinny?" Donna asked.
"No, he's sort of...strong."
"He," she nodded at the Doctor, "Is too skinny for words. You give him a hug, you get a paper cut."
Martha laughed.
"I'd rather you were fighting," he mumbled.
"Dr. Jones, report to base, please," a woman's voice came over the radio in Martha's hand.
"Speaking of which..." she held it up, "This is Dr. Jones. Operation Blue Sky is go, go, go," she turned and walked off, "I repeat, this is a go."
They followed her down the alley and to a street where jeeps and a large lorry came down, "Unified Intelligence Taskforce, raise that barrier now!" the order came as the soldiers entered the factory across the way, "Leave your safeties on, lads, it's non-hostiles!"
"All workers lay down your tools and surrender!" a soldier called over a bullhorn.
"Greyhound 6 to Trap 1," Martha reported, "B Section, go, go, go! Search the ground floor, grid pattern Delta."
"What are you searching for?" the Doctor asked.
"Illegal aliens."
"This is a UNIT operation!" the bullhorn called, "All workers lay down your tools and surrender immediately!"
The UNIT soldiers forced their way into the factory, pushing the workers to their knees, hands over their heads.
"B Section mobilized!" Martha ordered, running off, "E Section, F Section, on my command!"
"Is that what you did to her, turned her into a soldier?" Donna looked at them, more so at the Professor.
~8~
A little while later Martha strode up to the trio as they stood outside the factory.
"You're qualified now?" the Doctor noticed Martha's badge, "You're a proper doctor."
"UNIT rushed it through, given my experience in the field," she nodded, "Here we go," she led them across the grounds and over to a large mobile base, "We're establishing a field base on site. They're dying to meet you."
"Wish I could say the same."
They entered from the back, finding themselves in a small room full of computers, monitors, comms., all high tech, "Operation Blue Sky complete, sir," Martha went up to an older man in uniform, "Thanks for letting me take the lead. And this...this is the Doctor and Professor. Doctor, Professor, Colonel Mace."
"Sir," Mace saluted, "Ma'am."
"Oh, don't salute," the Doctor grumbled.
"But it's an honor, sir. I've read all the files on the two of you. Technically speaking, you're still on staff. You never resigned."
"What, you used to work for them?" Donna eyed him.
"Yeah," he sighed, "A long time ago, back in the 70s…or was it the 80s? It was all a bit more homespun back then."
"Times have changed, sir," Mace agreed.
"That's enough of the 'sir.'"
"Come on though, Doctor," Martha rolled her eyes, "You've seen it. You've been on board the Valiant. We've got massive funding from the United Nations, all in the name of Homeworld Security."
"A modern UNIT for the modern world," Mace nodded.
"What, and that means arresting ordinary workers?" Donna scoffed, "In the streets? In broad daylight? It's more like Guantanamo Bay out there. Donna, by the way. Donna Noble, since you didn't ask. I'll have a salute."
Mace looked at the Doctor and Professor who gave him a slight nod, even the Professor.
"Ma'am," he saluted.
"Thank you."
"Tell us what's going on in that factory," the Doctor began.
"Yesterday," Mace turned and brought up a map of the world on a computer screen across the room, "52 people died in identical circumstances right across the world, in 11 different time zones. 5am in the UK, 6am in France, 8am in Moscow, 1pm in China…"
"They died simultaneously," the Professor summarized.
"Exactly. 52 deaths at the exact same moment worldwide."
"How?"
"They were all inside their cars."
"They were poisoned," Martha added, "I checked the biopsies. No toxins. Whatever it is, left the system immediately."
The Professor nodded, "The common factor of the cars?"
"Completely different makes but all fitted with ATMOS," Martha replied quickly. She could almost understand the Professor's 'to the point,' militant questions, she herself was starting to think almost like a soldier. To be one demanded accuracy, speed, and strength, all of which the Professor seemed to have now, "And that is the ATMOS factory."
"What's ATMOS?" the Doctor frowned, watching the conversation between the two.
"Oh come on, even I know that," Donna cut in, "Everyone's got ATMOS."
~8~
Martha led the trio along the catwalk above the factory floor, Mace behind them, as she explained what they were dealing with, "Stands for 'Atmospheric Emission System.' The ATMOS in your car reduces CO2 emissions to zero."
"Zero?" the Doctor's eyes widened, "No carbon? None at all?"
"And you get sat-nav thrown in, plus 20 quid in shopping vouchers if you introduce a friend," Donna added, "Bargain."
"And this is where they make it," Mace nodded, "Shipping worldwide. Seventeen factories across the globe but this is the central depot, sending ATMOS to every country on Earth."
"And you think ATMOS is alien?" the Doctor eyed him.
"It's our job to investigate that possibility," he walked past them, leading them down the corridor towards a small office in the back where the ATMOS device was on display, "And here it is, laid bare. ATMOS can be threaded through any and every make of car."
"You've must've checked it before it went on sale," the Doctor remarked as the Professor picked up the device and scanned it quickly.
"We did," Martha nodded, "We found nothing. That's why I thought we needed an expert."
The Doctor slipped on his specs and turned to the back wall, examining some equipment, "Really? Who did you get?" he turned to see them, sans the Professor, staring at him, "Oh, right! Me! Yes! Good."
"Well, actually," Martha grinned a bit, "I was thinking the Professor, but they wanted you…so we compromised. Brought you both."
"As you should," the Doctor nodded, smiling at the Professor, "We make a rather excellent team."
Martha eyed the Professor, seeing the corner of her mouth twitch up before turning to leave with Mace, pleased that the Professor seemed to be doing better than the last time they'd parted…she hadn't even mustered a smile when she'd said goodbye to them. Perhaps that Donna woman had helped her like she had the last Professor...
"Okay, so why would aliens be so keen on cleaning up our atmosphere?" Donna asked them.
"Very good question," the Doctor told her.
"Maybe they want to help, get rid of pollution and stuff."
"Do you know how many cars there are on planet Earth? 800 million. Imagine that."
"If you could control them, you'd have 800 million weapons," the Professor remarked.
~8~
The Doctor was now examining the ATMOS device while the Professor took a look at the equipment, having done her own assessment of it.
"Ionizing nano-membrane carbon dioxide converter," the Professor stated.
The Doctor nodded, "Which means that ATMOS works," he explained to Mace and Martha as they stood in the office, Donna having wandered out some time ago, "Filters the CO2 at a molecular level."
"We know about that," Mace nodded as he moved to stand beside the Doctor, "What's its origin? Is it alien?"
"No, but it's decades ahead of its time," he glanced at Mace, "Look, do you mind? Could you stand back a bit?"
"Sorry, have I done something wrong?" Mace took a step back.
"You're carrying a gun. I don't like people with guns hanging around me, alright?"
"She's got a gun," he nodded towards the Professor.
"Yes, well, she's different."
"How so?"
"She's my wife," he glared up at Mace, growing frustrated with the man.
"Not yet," the Professor reminded him matter-of-factly.
They had yet to actually have an Earth wedding ceremony. And to be honest, this version of her wasn't quite ready for that just yet. A fact which he knew, but kept quiet about. He knew he had to give her time to heal from what had happened with the Master. He would sometimes catch a stray thought or two from her and, even though he personally didn't believe it for a second, she seemed to consider herself to be 'damaged' now and refused to let him tie himself to a person who couldn't even really speak of her emotions let alone express them. He firmly believed that she expressed them in other ways, in her every action. It wasn't always necessary to speak to convey a feeling or prove them, and she proved her care in the way she tried to protect him, keep him and his Companion safe.
"If you insist," Mace walked out of the room.
"Tetchy," Martha remarked.
"Well, it's true," the Doctor grumbled.
"He's a good man."
"People with guns are usually the enemy in my books."
"Unless the person with the gun is your wife?"
"Not yet," the Professor called once more.
"You seem quite at home," the Doctor ignored her to look at Martha, flashing the sonic over the device.
"If anyone got me used to fighting, it's you," Martha countered.
"Oh right, so it's our fault."
"Well, you got me the job. Besides, look at me," he looked, "Am I carrying a gun?"
"Suppose not."
"It's alright for you two. You can just come and go, but some of us have got to stay behind. So I've got to work from the inside and by staying inside, maybe I stand a chance of making them better."
"Yeah?" he smiled, "That's more like Martha Jones."
"I learnt from the best."
"Well..."
"But…now that my teacher's got a gun…maybe I should reconsider…"
The Doctor just laughed and shook his head when Donna entered the room, a binder in her hand.
"Oi, you lot!" she called, "All your storm troopers and your sonics, rubbish! Shoulda come with me."
"Where have you been?" he looked at her, Mace entering once more.
"Personnel. That's where the weird stuff's happening, in the paperwork. 'Cos I spent years working as a temp, I can find my way around an office blindfolded, and the first thing I noticed is an empty file."
"Why, what's inside it? Or what's not inside it?"
"Sick days," she opened it to show them it was blank, "There aren't any. Hundreds of people working here and no one's sick. Not one hangover, mean flu, sneaky little shopping trip. Nothing. Not ever. They don't get ill."
"That can't be right," Mace took the folder.
"You've been checking out the buildings, should've been checking out the workforce."
"I can see why they like you," Martha grinned.
"Hmm."
"You are good."
"Super Temp."
"Dr. Jones, set up a medical post, start examining the workers," Mace ordered, "I'll get them sent through."
"Come on, Donna, give me a hand," Martha nodded as the Doctor and Professor followed Mace out of the room.
"So, this…this ATMOS thing, where'd it come from?" the Doctor asked as they walked past the factory floor.
"Luke Rattigan himself."
"And himself would be?"
~8~
Mace brought up Luke's profile on the UNIT computer, "Child genius. Invented the Fountain 6 search engine when he was 12 years old. Millionaire overnight. Now runs the Rattigan Academy. A private school educating students handpicked from all over the world."
"A hothouse for geniuses," the Doctor remarked, "Wouldn't mind going there," Mace looked at him, "The Professor likes a challenge. Hasn't found anyone who can think as fast as her yet, not even me."
Mace looked quite stunned at the Doctor openly admitting he believed the girl beside him to be smarter than him.
~8~
Mace led them to the docking bay of the factory, "You are not coming with us," the Doctor told him, "We want to talk to this Luke Rattigan, not point a gun at him," he turned to the Professor, "Which means reining in the trigger finger."
The Professor rolled her eyes at him before blinking, almost confused. She shook her head slightly. She'd been noticing little things lately, slips from her normal persona. A roll of the eye, a smile, a semi-joking remark...ever since Donna had become their Companion. The woman was as irritating as she first assumed she'd be, but...as Martha had said, she was good. She wore her heart on her sleeve and kept nothing bottled up. If she was angry it showed, sad, happy, excited, she held nothing back. And it seemed that constant outpouring of emotion from the ginger was affecting even her...to be around such emotion constantly...she found herself expressing more of it. Something she was slightly disconcerted with but also, surprisingly, not enormously concerned over. She knew it made the Doctor extremely happy whenever it occured, and anything that made him smile that widely couldn't be a bad thing.
In fact, he was smiling widely now despite her face having become neutral again. He'd spotted the eye roll and just couldn't help but grin as yet another emotion trickled through her, even if it was annoyance at him.
"It's ten miles outside London," Mace remarked, pulling them both out of their thoughts, "How are you going to get there?"
"Then get us a Jeep," he suggested.
"According to the records, you travel by TARDIS."
"With the danger of hostile aliens, it is best to keep the time travel machine away from the front lines," the Professor remarked.
"I see," Mace nodded at her militaristic insight, "Then you do have weapons but you choose to keep them hidden."
"Not all of them," the Doctor replied, putting an arm around the Professor's shoulders, noting that she tensed only a bit at the action, far less than before. It seemed she was getting more comfortable with him and contact between them, something he was imminently pleased about.
"Jenkins?" Mace called, turning around as a soldier ran over. The Doctor squeezing the Professor's shoulder once before letting his arm fall from around her.
"Sir!" a young man ran over to them.
"You will accompany the Doctor and Professor and take orders from them."
"I don't do orders," the Doctor grumbled.
"Take orders from her then," Mace nodded at the Professor who accepted the task, "Any sign of trouble get Jenkins to declare a Code Red. And good luck," he saluted.
"I said no salutes."
"Now you're giving orders."
"A bit cheeky, you are!" he called as Mace left.
"Doctor!" Donna called, running over, "Professor!"
"Oh, just in time. Come on!" he took her hand, "Come on, we're going to the country," and pulled her towards the Jeep, "Fresh air, geniuses, what more could you ask?"
"I'm not coming with you. I've been thinking. I'm sorry...I'm going home."
"Really?"
"I've got to."
"Well, if that's what you want. I mean, it's a bit soon. I had so many places I wanted to take you. The Fifteenth Broken Moon of the Medusa Cascade, the lightening skies of Cotter Palluni's World, the diamond coral reefs of Kaata Flo Ko...thank you. Thank you, Donna Noble. It's been brilliant. You…you've saved my life in so many ways…" Donna nodded, smirking, and the Doctor realized something, "You're...you're…you're just popping home for a visit. That's what you mean."
"You dumbo."
"And then you're coming back."
"Do you know what you are? A great, big, outer space dunce."
"Yeah…" he rubbed the side of his neck.
"Take a lesson from time-girl here," Donna nodded at the Professor, "Don't see her jumping to conclusions do you?"
"Ready when you are, sir, ma'am," Jenkins called before the Doctor could reply.
"What's more, you can give me a lift," Donna laughed, "Come on," she headed towards the Jeep, jumping in after the Professor, "Broken moon of what?"
"I know," the Doctor sighed, "I know."
~8~
"UNIT's been watching the Rattigan Academy for ages," Jenkins explained to them as he drove towards the school, having dropped off Donna a short while ago, "It's all a bit Hitler Youth. Exercise at dawn and classes and special diets."
"Turn left," ATMOS instructed.
"Ross, one question," the Doctor began, "If UNIT thinks that ATMOS is dodgy…"
"How come we've got it in the Jeeps?"
"Yeah."
"Ha, tell me about it. They're fitted as standard on all government vehicles. We can't get rid of them until we can prove there's something wrong."
"Turn right."
"Drives me around the bend," he commented as he turned into the school drive.
"Oh, nice one," the Doctor laughed.
"Timed that perfectly."
"Ha. Yeah. You did."
"This is your final destination."
They got out and headed up the drive, walking around the building to the back. The Professor paused, watching as a group of students in red sweat suits jogged around the school, her mind drifting against her will...
~/~\~
She stood before the large facility, in the front of a mass of Academics, almost every Academic who had graduated within the last 500 years would eventually come to gather within those walls. Her group was the last to arrive, the last to accept a place in the elite program implemented by President Rassilon. The Daleks had launched attacks on their planet, the High Council had declared war, and they needed this program, their skills, to help ensure a Time Lord victory.
As she watched another group of Academics who had arrived earlier than her, the younger generation, those recently graduated, jog around the facility, uniform grey jumpsuits on, she couldn't help but frown. She didn't want to be there, none of those in her group wanted to be there. But they had to accept the invitation to the program.
They'd been called into a meeting with President Rassilon himself, a few of his scientists and military generals speaking about the program they wished to create. A way to fight the war with minimal loss of Time Lord life, using their minds to help win battles. The younger Academics were far too willing to jump into the program, the older Academics more hesitant.
They had to accept the invitation, especially given what had happened to the others.
Some Academics were quite vocal about their refusal to even consider the program. It had given the others courage to ask their President for time to think on their acceptance. But then…they started hearing reports of 'accidents' occurring all over Gallifrey. Time Lords somehow ending up injured in the middle of regeneration or too badly to even regenerate.
Very specific Time Lords…
Academics…
The ones who had refused.
It gave pause to those considering rejecting the invitation. There was no proof, of course, that indicated the High Council had anything to do with the 'accidents' but they were Academics for a reason, they made those connections.
They couldn't say no.
She closed her eyes tightly a moment, taking a breath. She couldn't help the pit that formed in her stomach. Something about the entire program didn't sit right with her. Rassilon had assured them that they would only be learning military strategies, participating in some exercise programs to invigorate their minds, and helping to estimate the probabilities and estimations for battles. He had sworn that they would be allowed to leave whenever they wanted out of the program once it had been started. He'd warned them that, throughout their time there, some of them would be asked to leave if they didn't prove themselves able to contribute. She didn't believe for a moment that they would simply be allowed to walk out or that they would just be asked to leave with no consequences. Perhaps it had been the look in President Rassilon's eyes…he was far too happy and…smug…for the program to begin.
She opened her eyes, hearing a creaking, to see the doors to the facility opening, a scientist and general standing before them, ushering them in.
~/~\~
She shook her head fiercely, now was not the time to be distracted. She continued on after the Doctor and Ross, towards a lone young man standing there, looking out on London, "Is it PE?" the Doctor called, "I wouldn't mind a kick-around. Got me daps on."
Luke turned around and eyed them, "I suppose you're the Doctor and Professor."
"Hello."
"Your commanding officer phoned ahead."
"Oh, I haven't got a commanding officer," the Doctor remarked, "Well…except for the Professor here," and it was actually true. During the war all Academics, once training was complete, were automatically given the highest rank in their armies, able to give commands, draw up and implement strategies, among other things, "Have you?" he continued, "Oh, this is Ross. Say hello, Ross."
"Afternoon, sir," Ross nodded.
The Doctor turned and ran to the main doors, "Let's have a look, then! I can smell genius...in a good way."
~8~
The Doctor and Professor entered a lab where a few students were working on advanced projects, just wandering around, looking at the different devices.
"Oh, now...that's clever!" he called the Professor over, "Look!" he slipped on his specs, "Single-molecule fabric. How thin is that? You could pack a tent in a thimble. Oh!"
"Gravity simulators," the Professor listed as she gave the room a quick onceover, "Terra-forming, biospheres, nano-tech steel construction."
Luke's eyes widened at how quickly she was able to identify the devices, half of which were across the room.
"Ha ha, this is brilliant!" the Doctor cheered, "But y'know with equipment like this, you could, oh, I dunno...move to another planet or something."
"If only that was possible," Luke replied.
"If only that were possible," he pulled off his specs, "Conditional clause."
"I think you'd better come with me," he turned and led them out of the lab, down a few halls, and into his own quarters, "You're smarter than the usual UNIT grunts, I'll give you that."
"He called you a grunt," the Doctor looked at Ross, "Don't call Ross a grunt, he's nice. We like Ross. Look at this place..."
'What do you make of that,' he asked the Professor silently, hoping she would answer. It had been touch and go with their mental connection. She was far more closed off in all aspects, mental, emotional, physical, but…if she had heard him on the TARDIS, in a non-threatening environment where she kept her mind partially open for silent communication, there was a chance that she was listening now.
'Teleport pad,' she confirmed, eyeing the large square box-like contraption in the back of the room.
He beamed, she was connecting to him again, she was starting to let him in.
"What exactly do you want?" Luke glared at them.
"I was just thinking, what a responsible 18 year old," the Doctor remarked, "Inventing zero-carbon cars, saving the world..."
"It takes a man with vision."
"Hm, blinkered vision. 'Cos ATMOS means more people driving, more cars, more petrol, end result: the oil's gonna run out faster than ever. The ATMOS system could make things worse."
"Yeah, well, that's a tautology. You can't say 'ATMOS system' 'cos it stands for Atmospheric Emission System. So you're saying 'Atmospheric Emission System System.' Do you see, Mr. Conditional Clause?"
"It's been a long time since anyone's said no to you, isn't it?"
"I'm still right, though."
"Not easy, is it, being clever? You look at the world and you connect things, random things, and think, 'why can't anyone else see it? The rest of the world is so slow.'"
"Yeah…"
"And you're on your own."
"I know."
"But not with this," he pulled out an ATMOS device from his pocket, "'Cos there's no way you invented this single-handed. It might be Earth technology, but that's like finding a mobile phone in the Middle Ages," he tossed the device to Ross and walked towards the teleport pod, "No, no, I'll tell you what it's like! It's like finding this in someone's front room. Albeit, a very big front room."
"Why?" Ross frowned, "What is it?"
"Yeah, just looks like a thing, doesn't it? People don't question things. They just think, 'Oh, it's a thing.'"
"Leave it alone!" Luke glared.
"Me, I make these connections," the Doctor walked inside it, "And this to me looks like..." he pressed a button, "...a teleport pod."
And disappeared, only to appear in the middle of a Sontaran war ship.
"Orbit now holding at 556.3, sector 270," the loudspeaker announced.
"Oh…"
The Sontarans turned and spotted him, "We have an intruder!"
"How did he get in?" the Doctor asked, "In-tru-da window?" the Sontaran soldiers advanced, "Bye bye!" he pushed a button and appeared back in Luke's room, running out of the pod to see the Professor aiming her gun at it, waiting for the Sontarans they knew were coming, "Ross, get out! Luke, you'd better come with us!" he grabbed the Professor's arm, shoving it down, knowing the Sontarans would fire at will if an actual disarming weapon was fired at them and spun around, sonicing the pod to disable the circuit just after a lone Sontaran appeared, "Sontaran! That's your name, isn't it? How did I know that, eh?" he put away the screwdriver, holding the Professor's arm behind his back, "Fascinating, isn't it? Isn't that worth keeping us alive?"
"I order you to surrender in the name of the Unified Intelligence Taskforce," Ross aimed his gun at the Sontaran.
"That's not going to work," the Professor warned as she put the blaster back in its holster surreptitiously, "Cordolaine signal, copper excitation stopping the bullets."
"How do you know so much?" the Sontaran turned to her.
"Well..." the Doctor began, walking around the room.
"Who are they?" the Sontaran turned to Luke.
"They didn't give their names."
"This isn't typical Sontaran behavior, is it?" the Doctor asked, leaning on a table, "Hiding? Using teenagers? Stopping bullets? A Sontaran should face bullets with dignity! Shame on you!"
"You dishonor me!" the alien shouted beneath his helmet.
"Then show yourself," the Professor challenged.
"I will look into my enemy's eyes," he took off the helmet to reveal a brown, rounded, dome-like head with no neck.
"Oh, my God," Ross gaped.
"And your name?" the Doctor asked.
"General Staal of the Tenth Sontaran Battle Fleet. Staal the Undefeated."
"That's not a very good nickname. What if you do get defeated? 'Staal-The-Not-Quite-So-Undefeated-Anymore-But-Never-Mind?'"
"Looks like a potato, a baked potato," Ross scoffed, "A talking baked potato."
"Now, Ross, don't be rude. You look like a pink weasel to him," he leaned over and picked up a tennis racket, bouncing a ball on it.
"The Sontarans are the finest soldiers in the galaxy," the Professor explained, "Dedicated to a life of warfare. A clone race grown in batches of millions with only one weakness…"
"Sontarans have no weakness!" Staal insisted.
"No, it's a good weakness," the Doctor agreed.
"Aren't you meant to be clever?" Luke sneered, "Only an idiot would provoke him."
"The Sontarans are fed by a Probic Vent in the back of the neck," the Professor continued, "Their weak spot, they always have to face their enemy in battle."
"Isn't that brilliant?" the Doctor grinned, "They can never turn their backs!"
"We stare into the face of death!" Staal glared.
"Yeah? Well, stare at this!" he hit the ball with the racket, bouncing it off the pod and hitting Staal's Probic Vent, making the alien stagger to his knees, "Out! Out! Out!" he grabbed Ross's arm and the three of them ran out of the room. They raced down the yard and over to the Jeep, quickly driving off, speeding back towards the base, "Greyhound 40 to Trap 1," he called into the radio, "Repeat: can you hear me? Over."
"Why is it not working?" Ross asked.
"The Sontarans," the Professor replied, "And if they can trace that, they can isolate the ATMOS."
"Turn left."
"Try going right," the Doctor told him.
"It says left," Ross argued.
"I know. So go right."
Ross twisted, but the wheel wouldn't budge, "I've got no control!" he gasped, taking his hands off the wheel completely, "It's driving itself. It won't stop," he turned to the door, "The doors are locked!"
"Argh!" the Doctor soniced the ATMOS, "It's deadlocked! We can't stop it!"
"Turn left."
The Jeep swerved left.
"The sat-nav's wired through the whole car," the Doctor muttered, looking around for something to use against the system.
"We're heading for the river!" Ross cried.
"ATMOS, are you programmed to contradict my orders?" the Professor turned to the box, keeping her head.
"Confirmed."
"Anything I order will be ignored?"
"Confirmed."
"Then drive into the river," she replied calmly as Ross stared at her in horror, "I order you to drive into the river."
The Jeep's brakes squealed as it halted to a stop at the river's edge. The doors unlocked and the Doctor and Ross jumped out of the car.
"Turn right. Left. Left. Right."
"Get down!" the Doctor shouted, pulling Ross to the ground.
"It's not going to explode," the Professor stated, standing behind them, watching the car.
"Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right!"
The panel sparked and smoked a bit.
"Oh, is that it?" the Doctor looked up, surprised and disappointed. The Professor just shook her head at him and he beamed, another emotion! This was shaping up to be a very good day...well...not counting the appearance of the Sontarans of course...
~8~
The Doctor, with the Professor beside him, rang the front doorbell of a nice home in Chiswick and Donna answered, "You would not believe the day we're having."
~8~
The Doctor and the Professor stood over the engine of Donna's car, working on the ATMOS device while Donna tried to reach Martha on her mobile.
"I'll requisition us a vehicle," Ross told them.
"Anything without ATMOS," the Professor agreed.
"And don't point your gun at people!" the Doctor called as the man ran off.
"Is it them?" Donna's grandfather ran out of the house, "Is it them? Is it the Doctor and Professor?" he spotted them, his eyes widening in shock as he recognized them, "Ah, it's you!"
"Who?" the Doctor looked up, recognizing him as well, "Oh...it's you!"
"What, have you met before?" Donna looked between them.
"Yeah, Christmas Eve," her grandfather nodded, "They disappeared right in front of me."
"And you never said?"
"Well, you never said," he turned to the aliens, "Wilf, sir, ma'am. Wilfred Mott. You must be two of them aliens."
"Well, yeah, but don't shout it out," he shook Wilf's hand, "Nice to meet you properly, Wilf."
"Ah, an alien hand."
"Donna, anything?"
"She's not answering," she shook her head, "What's it, 'Sontiruns?'"
"Sontarans. But there's got to be more to it. They can't be just remote controlling cars. That's not enough. Is anyone answering?"
"Hold on."
"Don't tell me...Donna Noble," Martha answered.
"Martha, hold on, he's here," she put the phone on speaker and handed it to the Doctor.
"Martha, tell Colonel Mace it's the Sontarans. They're in the file, Code Red Sontarans. But if they're inside the factory, tell him not to start shooting, UNIT will get massacred. We'll get back as soon as we can. You got that?"
"Code Red Sontarans. Gotcha," and the phone clicked off.
'Incorrect voice pattern,' the Professor remarked from under the bonnet, 'That's not Martha.'
The Doctor could only nod, she had sounded off to him as well.
~8~
The Doctor had the sonic out, looking under the bonnet as the Professor directed where to focus the power.
"You've tried sonicing it before," Donna commented, "You didn't find anything."
"Yeah, but now we know it's Sontaran, we know what we're looking for," the Doctor countered.
"The thing is," Wilf began, "That Donna is my only grandchild. You gotta promise me you're gonna take care of her."
"She takes care of us."
Wilf laughed, "Oh, yeah, that's my Donna. She was always bossing us around even when she was tiny. 'The Little General' we used to call her."
"Yeah," Donna cut in, "Don't start."
"And some of the boys she used to turn up with…a different one every week. Yeah, who was that one with the nail varnish?"
"Matthew Richards. He lives in Kilburn now…with a man."
Spikes shot out of the holes in the ATMOS device and the Doctor jerked back, "Whoa!"
"Temporal pocket," the Professor stated, "Hidden just a second out of sync with real time."
"I knew there was something else there," the Doctor grinned.
"But what's it hiding?" Donna asked.
"I dunno, men and their cars!" Donna's mother walked over to them, seeing them all gathered around, "Sometimes I think if I was a car..." she stopped, seeing the man under the bonnet, "Oh, it's you! Doctor…what was it?"
"Yeah, that's me," the Doctor waved, not looking up.
"Have you met them as well?" Wilf looked at his daughter.
"Dad, it's the man from the wedding! When you were laid up with Spanish flu. I'm warning you, last time he and that woman who was with him turned up, it was a disaster!"
Donna was about to ask her mother what woman she was talking about as the Professor was right there but then remembered the Professor had regenerated since then, of course her mother wouldn't recognize her.
Before she could try and turn her mother back inside gas shot out from the spikes in the ATMOS device.
"Get back!" the Doctor shouted, jumping back and sonicing the car, "That'll stop it," the car sparked and the gas stopped.
The Professor leaned over cautiously and inhaled just a bit of it, having learned her lesson from the smog in New New York.
"I told you!" Mrs. Noble pointed at them, "He's blown up the car! Who is he anyway? What sort of doctor blows up cars?"
"Oh, not now, mum!" Donna snapped.
Her mother just stalked off, muttering, "Oh, should I make an appointment?"
"It's not exhaust fumes," the Professor remarked, frowning as she examined it, "Some sort of gas. Artificial gas. Carbon monoxide, hydrocarbons, nitrogen oxides, but 10 percent...it's a new substance…"
"And it's aliens, is it?" Wilf asked, "Aliens?"
"But if it's poisonous..." Donna frowned, "Then they've got poisonous gas in every car on Earth."
They looked around to see the cars parked on the street all had ATMOS stickers in the windows.
"It's not safe. I'm gonna get it off the street," Wilf moved to get in the car, the doors shutting and locking behind him.
"No, don't!" Donna shouted as the car started up and thick exhaust came out the tailpipe, "Turn it off!" Wilf shook his head, "Granddad, get out of there!" she tried to open the doors but they were locked.
"I can't!" he cried, "It's locked!" he held up the key, "It's the aliens again!" he banged on the window.
"What's he doing?" Mrs. Noble called form the door of the house, "What's he done?"
"I've isolated it!" the Doctor shouted, when suddenly all the cars on the street started to emit the same gas.
"There's gas inside the car!" Donna cried, "He's gonna choke! Doctor! Professor!"
The Doctor ran to the door, trying to help her open it with the sonic while the Professor attempted the other door.
"It won't open!" he shouted, looking back at the other cars, "It's the whole world."
"Help me!" Wilf called weakly.
The Doctor ran back to check the engine, yanking out some wires from the device, but it didn't work. He ran to the middle of the road, looking around, powerless, as the smoke billowed around them.
"Doctor!" Donna shouted, "Professor!"
To be continued…
A/N: I just have to say WOW! You guys, you actually made me cry with your amazing reviews about me continuing to update everyday. I'll do it! ^-^ I love the next chapter, the Sontarans meeting the Doctor and Professor and more (maybe a little Keta kiss!) :)
Funny little story. My mother recently discovered the Big Bang Theory TV show and has been watching it non-stop. And yesterday, she came up to me and was like, 'you know all that sci-fi stuff right? So what's Doctor Who?' I then spent half an hour trying to put into words how awesome DW is and what it's about before spending another half hour trying to convince her to watch the series with me. We'll see how it goes...