The Doctor and Quinn strode out of the actors' lounge to find most of the cast assembled in the living room set. Most were staring at the TARDIS where it sat parked just behind the settee, probably trying to understand how this thing had come to be there when it hadn't been there moments before. Only a couple had been on stage at the time; everyone else had merely heard about this thing that had appeared and threatened to ruin everything.
"Quinn Fabray," the Doctor said, "allow me to introduce you to the resistance. 'Kate and Frank Milligan', played by Callie and Howard, have been stealing royal secrets to advance the agenda of the Travelers, a group who want to break free of the oppression of their government and spread out to see the sights... a laudable goal all in all, though I'm not sure I like the execution very much.
"And this must be their best friend and partner in crime, Ms. Gertrude Ferrison."
An older woman, who looked like she was in her mid-to-late forties, stood up and shook Quinn's hand. "My friends - my offstage friends, of course - call me Lana," she said.
"The rest of the resistance are over there," the Doctor said, pointing out a group of method actors who seemed to be examining the Police Box, chattering excitedly and writing notes as if they had any idea what the thing was or how incredibly it really was once you got inside. "Owen Coates, played by renowned character actor Raymond Derrick, leads the underground resistance. Literally underground; the entrance is in the Milligans' closet. Joey Bishop, Patsy McDonough, and Garrett Denzil round out the technical team." He turned to a single man in a crisp soldier's uniform. "And then we have our soldiers. Or in this case, soldier," he said. "Robert? Where are the other soldiers, then?"
Robert shook his head. "I didn't assign the parts randomly," he said, with barely concealed contempt. "There are members of both political parties on the cast. The 'soldiers' refused to participate in the meeting. All except Keith there."
"We'll manage without them," the Doctor said, waving it off as if it weren't an issue when everyone seemed to think that clearly it was. "The soldier's part is easy. You just say, 'halt' and 'stop or I'll shoot' and let your gun do the talking, and that pretty much sums up the part."
"Doctor..." Quinn said, arching her eyebrows and nodding towards the lone actor in soldier's garb, standing apart and looking at the proceedings from afar. Let the Doctor feel about soldiers as he liked, but she was pretty sure having your part marginalized down to nothing couldn't feel good for the actor playing the part. She knew she hadn't liked it when someone referred to her as nothing more than a swaying background singer in glee club, anyway.
"Keith and Adam Marks, brothers, are playing Marv and Brock Stanton, also brothers," the Doctor said. "Brilliant!"
Quinn smiled at a young man not much older than she was - probably in his mid twenties if she were to take a guess. He chuckled nervously as he replied, "The, uh, casting call went out for identical twins, so, er, here I am," Keith said, giving a little wave. "My brother's with the rest of the Anchors," he said. "I'll report to them when I'm, ah, done here." He smiled nervously.
"So far, Mr. Milligan has worked with the resistance team to steal top secret documents from the King's offices," the Doctor told her. "The whole first act is a proper spy thriller, with clandestine meetings in cafes, code words, gunfights and bar brawls, the works. At the end of the first act, the soldiers get wind of Frank's involvement in the proceedings and show up to execute him - court order. Then the second act is a huge tonal shift. Every single one of the resistance team are found out, hunted down, and killed. It turns out that Kate Milligan's been pulling the strings after all, not her husband, but she's shot dead trying to escape to a Traveler's safehouse, and the play ends."
"Not exactly an inspiring night at the theater," Quinn said.
"No, it's not meant to be. Robert's this planet's equivalent of Tennessee Williams back in his heyday - ooh, I should take you to see The Glass Menagerie. Laurette Taylor, 1944... it'll be a challenge to find a night I'm not already in the audience, that's for sure. Anyway, Robert Delerno; he's basically a legend," the Doctor said. "The man's known for his stories that really reach the common man. That's probably why the King approached him to be his own personal propaganda machine... and why he refused to do it until people he loved were in danger."
"You admire him a little bit, don't you?"
The Doctor grinned. "Am I that obvious?"
"Yeah," she said, smiling back.
"Alright, I do, yeah," he said. "I admire people who stand up for what they believe in unapologetically, who adhere to their own moral code... especially when it matches mine."
"Until you threaten their family."
"Yeah..." That was an all-too-familiar caveat, the Doctor thought. How many of his enemies knew that all they had to do was threaten his friends to bend him to their will?
"So, Frank Milligan is supposed to be dead," Quinn said. "Only he's not because we parked a spaceship in between him and his would-be assassin."
"Pretty much, yeah."
"So now what happens?"
"The same thing that happens whenever we go anywhere," he said. "We rewrite history. Except this time we have the writer on our side."
Robert had gathered the cast and crew around a long table backstage. Several copies of the script were strewn about with different sections underlined, highlighted, and scribbled in. A top-down view of all the sets was drawn to scale to help with the blocking, a smattering of props lay here and there around the workspace. "Okay," the director said. "I trust you all to do the best you can. You know your characters, a couple of you have improv experience. The rest of you, just try to stay in character as much as you can. We're going to keep the same scene order as much as possible, and I'll be back here doing rewrites the whole night. If you're not on stage, you're back here checking in with me, alright?" A series of nods were the only acknowledgement; everyone else was too nervous to speak.
"Doctor," the director continued, "how about you? You think you can improvise something?"
"It's basically all he does," Quinn said before the Time Lord could reply. "Trust me. He's going to be fine."
"What do we call your characters?" Howard asked.
"Oh, probably best if we just stick with the Doctor and Quinn," he replied. "Trust me. The intrigue makes for a better story."
"And he already introduced us," Quinn said.
"Fine, fine," Robert said. "Keith, I'll be counting on you to relay the changes to the other soldiers. Think you can handle it?"
"You bet," Keith said.
"Alright. First scene, then; we've got to deal with the interruption from the end of the last act. Howard, how do you feel about getting arrested?"
"It takes me out of the story just like it's supposed to," Howard replied. "Let's do it. Don't be afraid to rough me up a little, kid," he said, winking at Keith. The younger man smiled weakly.
"Perfect," Robert said. "Doctor, Quinn, just let the soldiers do their work and, uh... well, no, wait a second. Why wouldn't they arrest you, too?" He turned his back to the table and crossed his arms, clicking his tongue as he thought. "You'd have to have some reason to be exempt from processing..."
"Riiiiiiiight," the Doctor said, stretching the word as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a brown leather wallet. "Would this do?"
Robert looked at the paper, then up to the Doctor's face. "How did you get a hold of one of those?" he asked, his face a slack-jawed expression of disbelief.
"What is it?" Callie asked, standing on tiptoes to try to get a peek over Robert's shoulder, but the Doctor had snatched it back up and stuffed it in his pocket.
"Best not to talk too much about it, right, director?" the Doctor said, giving the director a knowing look. "Don't want to spoil the surprise."
"Yes, uh, right," Robert said, shaking his head to clear it and refocusing on the moment. "Show that to the soldiers and I'm sure they'll leave you alone," he said, "but don't let the audience see it. It's... better that way."
"I wouldn't dream of it," the Doctor replied.
The lights backstage dimmed for a few seconds, then came back on. The intermission was almost over.
"Alright, people, places," Robert said. "Resume your positions from the end of the last act." He was practically shoving the actors back towards the stage. Quinn turned to face the Doctor as they stood back outside the TARDIS.
"This is crazy!" she hissed under her breath. "We can't do this."
"Oh yes we can!" he replied in an excited whisper. "Now you heard what the director said, about keeping the play on track."
"I haven't read the script! I'm not a crazy speed reader like you!"
"Doesn't matter," he said, shaking his head.
"Doesn't matter? I don't even know what 'on track' is! How am I supposed to keep to it?"
"You're not," he said, fixing her with his best penetrating gaze. "We're going to help these people. We're doing what we do every day. Stop the killing."
"What?! But the actors said-"
"No time," he replied, grabbing her by the shoulders and spinning her back around to the position she'd been in before the prior act ended. Quinn took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and watched out of the corner of her eye as the curtain flew open again.