Doctor Who : The Nightmare Child
Chapter Three : A Descending Shadow
"Even dreams, the most delicate and intangible of things, can prove remarkable difficult to kill" - Neil Gaiman
From behind Donna's eyes, gold light spun, images burst and then shattered. Memory after memory, few of them actually hers, flew through her feverish brain. Crumbling, unfolding, and, god, burning.
Donna didn't realize she'd been gaping, her mouth open in a silent scream as the rain poured in. Sweat dripped off her forehead, her bangs now plastered to her head as she suffered quietly. She fought it, her perseverance winning out as her hands shot to cradle her aching mind. She whimpered as the whirl of memories grew ever hotter.
"Shaun," she barely got the word out as the burning spread to her entire body. It wasn't loud enough. She could barely think past the heat, the fire, the blaze of the pain. She summoned up every last ounce of the fire, used to launch herself into action. She needed someone who could help, and now. "SHAUN!" Her scream echoed through the house.
Seconds later, Shaun came dashing around the corner. He gasped. She was glowing a bright gold. Her skin shimmered with energy, sparked at every joint. She was kneeling on the ground, sweating profusely, eyes unfocused as she clutched her head. Shaun fought the urge to scream.
Donna's hand reached out and grabbed his wrist. Shaun recoiled; she was sizzling to the touch.
Donna fought for the strength to speak, but she found it. She fought it. Her head boiled, but she said quickly, "Shaun. Love. Stay calm. I'll be alright if you do exactly what I tell you."
"Donna, you're burning!" Shaun's voice trembled as he looked at her. Her eyes locked onto his, hers no more the warm brown, but rather a deep shade of powerful gold.
"I need to be put into stasis. Get me some pomegranate juice from the fridge, mix in some cinnamon, and then crush up an aspirin and mix it in. I need to drink that all down, then get me the taser granddad bought me last Christmas from my drawer. I have strength as long as I know I can count on you."
She let go of Shaun's hand and collapsed on the floor, her hands flying back up to her temples. Shaun took off and searched the kitchen desperately. He obediently grabbed the various supplies, unsure of what exactly it was all for, and came back to her, drink in one hand, battery and jumper cables in the other. Donna pulled herself up to grab the drink, which she downed in an instant, excess spilling on her bright pink shirt.
Instantly, she stood, as though she had regained her strength in part. Waves of energy rippled over her skin yet, distorting her image.
"Ahhh yes, the sugar and cinnamon reacting perfectly together with the aspirin spiralling my system into a state of immobile neuropsychitraxis. Now. For the just right tinge of energy shock, I can normalize my neural pathways and function properly. Well... For now," she held out her hand for the taser that was placed there immediately, as Shaun looked on, clueless.
Donna held the taser up, braced herself and within a second, giving him a wink and before Shaun could scream against what she was about to do, she shocked herself in the legs as a bright white electrical current ran through and enveloped her and she was in an instant, on the ground. Shaun knelt down beside her, worried as the glowing sparks faded and flickered before finally disappearing altogether.
"Donna? Donna!" He called. He held her hand desperately, ignoring the slight shocks he experienced, as he wondered what the hell had just happened, and if she could have survived it. The heat subsided from her hands, and she grew cold. Shaun lowered his head, hoping to kiss her one last time...
Her eyes snapped open and she kissed him first. She forced him upright until they were standing opposite each other. The rain continued to pour in.
"Well, first things first, shut the bloody window," she said, breathing heavily. Shaun grinned.
"I could care less about the window when I'm wondering if you're even alive," he said, relief spreading through him.
"You're too sweet to me sometimes, honestly. Now shut the window! You've gotta get me to London. It's the Doctor. He needs me."
The sky had changed dramatically. It had only been a few minutes since there had been bright, glorious sunlight. But now, busy swearing-under-their-breath Londoners were greeted by fresh claps of thunder, followed immediately by forked lightning. The crowds were now breaking and hidden under a sea of flapping newspapers held overhead as their best improvised protection against the rain. Heads were bowed down against the ferocious wind, with umbrellas being whipped out of their hands.
But the rain did not diminish his delight. As he made his way to the TARDIS, the Master was singing, dancing along the alleyway, arms waving, feet tapping and hips shaking to the strange tune of the ferocious rain falling onto pavement. He sang loud and proud over the din and clamour, drumming to himself as he did:
There's a drumming noise inside my head,
It starts when you're around
I swear that you could hear it
It makes such an almighty sound
Louder than sirens
Louder than bells
Sweeter than heaven
And hotter than hell!
He jumped at the finale and splashed into a large puddle of water, feet squelching happily and gesturing with both arms like a magician unveiling his latest trick. Beaming, he stared with longing at the blue box which was right in front of him.
"Oh, how I've missed you," he laughed frenetically as he swept his hand tenderly along its sides, like stroking a pet. As he touched it, a blaze of lightning streaked across the sky and the heavens poured down even heavier.
As though upon instinct or unexplainable compulsion, the Master looked up. He was squinting upwards into the downpour as it splattered on his wild features, when he saw something that distracted him completely: a crack, a fracture, a splinter clearly imprinted against the sky, frozen and unmoving.
He didn't see it clearly. Then, a single miniscule drop of rain fell into his eye and he blinked. Just for a moment. Just once. Quickly shaking his sodden blonde fringe out of his eyes, he peered back into the sky. The crack had vanished.
"Well. That was really quite vague and definitely not helpful in the slightest," he muttered bitterly, eyebrow raised at the sky as he continued to search, until finally the biting chill was too much. He pulled back the frozen, numb hand which had never left the TARDIS and knocked on the door.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
In the time she had known him, Ivy had never seen the Doctor like this. She had seen him angry, and thoughtful, and upset, but this was different. He did not speak and looked pale and drawn, and so much older… his boyish enthusiasm nowhere to be seen. He wore an expression she did not recognize, for she had never seen the Doctor frightened like this. What, she wondered, could scare someone so wise, so brave and so bold as the Doctor? What nightmares ran through his head?
Ivy stared into the whitened face she thought she knew so well, at the ancient faraway eyes with its infinite gaze and the messy spiky brown hair, and did not know what to do or say. They all seemed paralysed. She, only then in the silence, noticed how fast her heart was beating.
The Doctor was staring past his companions, across the console room to the aged wooden door. He was whispering to himself, his hushed words scarcely audible.
"Your song is ending soon...An ancient master of time...He will knock four times..."
Then it came again.
"Knock, knock, knock, knock!"
Then the Doctor turned to his companions for aid and counsel, though he didn't speak. He didn't need to. Nor did they. They stared at one another, expressions telling tales and eyes meeting and boring into one another's minds as he faced each and every one of them. All of them, reaching a shared silent agreement.
"You want to open that door," said Ivy aloud, when his eyes fell upon hers.
It was a statement. Not a question.
He replied with a tiny hushed smile. It was a strange, inscrutable smile that took a second or two to reach his eyes, which lit his features up again and a small portion of the youthful energy and enthusiasm returned to him.
"Well," he dragged the word on and on, as he looked away with concern painted across his face.
"We could leave," the Doctor suggested, though he didn't look convinced and those eyes still firmly fixed upon the door as he continued, "Run away. Lots more safer and appealing places to go. I mean, there are worlds out there where the sky is burning, and the sea is asleep, and the rivers dream. People made of smoke and cities made of song. You know. That sort of thing. Somewhere there's danger, somewhere there's injustice, and somewhere else the tea's getting cold. But wellll, I mean, still-"
"Knock, knock, knock, knock!"
"Why go to all that trouble, when adventure comes knocking!" he roared loudly, teeth baring wildly, as he marched towards the door, mustering courage, picking up his coat and braving it on. The rest of them followed behind.
"Allons-y! Let's see who it is!"
UNIT HQ, Geneva
The Valkyrie
"He has no idea what he's getting into," growled General Anthony Adama to himself darkly, cigar smoke trailing and spiralling elegantly about himself, as his brightly lit eyes watched tentatively, the live footage of the TARDIS on the large wall-sized monitor before him. His prosthetic steely-blue eyes narrowed and the grainy image seemed to zoom in and sharpen at his will, as he focused his attention on the blonde hooded man knocking on the TARDIS door. Adama remained silent, observing and studying the man with keen interest as he inhaled his cigar deeply.
"Sir?" interrupted a voice beyond the door, accompanied by loud hurried footsteps on the cold metal floor.
Distracted, Adama blinked and turned about on his chair, and the image on the monitor flashed and died instantly. The door slid open by itself with a soft gentle hiss, and light from the corridor streamed into the unlit room, as though someone turned on the floodlights. In the middle of the doorway was a young dishevelled looking UNIT officer in his twenties, with deep panic etched across his face, sweat dripping from his brows as he clutched nervously onto a folder of documents. They were clearly stamped on the front - 'Top Secret'. The ink wasn't even dry yet.
"We've made contact," he muttered softly as though the words were heavy and they merely tumbled from his lips.
The General did not react straight away. He simply leaned back in his leather chair, behind his desk in the deep darkness, the bright eyes closing as if meditating or praying for a moment, before he hesitantly put out his cigar with loving affection. Standing up finally, he ran his old wrinkled and scarred hands through his close-cropped silver-grey hair and straightened out his uniform, then made his way quietly out of his office.
The young UNIT officer scurried behind closely as the doors closed delicately behind them, offering up the imperative papers in his hands, but the General waved it away with a lazy flick of his hand. He let out a low chuckle as he did.
The General marched on along the empty corridor, chest high and a stern expression on his face, until finally, they reached the magnificent command deck of the Valkyrie - the twin sister of the reconstructed Valiant, though with several major cosmetic differences. At the behest of General Adama, clearly. Where the Valiant was sleek and beautiful, more for the showcase of strength to others, the Valkyrie was a different beast. A true military vessel. A warship for the 21st Century.
This ship did not accommodate VIPs with expensively furnished war discussion rooms or relaxing Officer lounges. Nor did it have an elegantly decorated command deck of African Blackwood flooring like the Valiant. Instead, the command bridge was designed with small, busy, dual crew pits where several dozen operators and pilots were stationed to control the ship's most important functions and reported to the General who patrolled and hounded the deck above them.
As the General entered the command deck, he was saluted by the Valkyrie's new second-in-command, Colonel Alan Mace.
"Sir!" greeted Colonel Mace immediately.
"At ease," replied Adama tersely as he looked out of the observation deck, not meeting the Colonel's eye nor returning his salute. Ignoring almost all the frantic movement and commotion on the deck itself, he simply stared out into the sky and at the carrier bay where hundreds of busy engineers, mechanics and pilots ran about at full pelt preparing their forces and attack fighters for deployment. Jet engines blazing, turbolaser turrets testing and all getting into assault position.
"Thank you sir. Operation Knightfall is in effect. The time field anomalies are-"
"Where?" interrupted Adama quickly.
"London, sir," answered Mace promptly, as he put up a large hologram of the Earth in the middle of the deck. As the blue projection spun, glowing red dots started to appear across the globe. "But there are others. They're significantly smaller in scale time fields, beginning to open elsewhere, all around the world. Mostly above major cities and other densely populated areas."
"When?" urged the General further.
"The data indicates… red alert is in an hour at most."
"Then, activate all units," barked Adama, suddenly very loud. Heads in the crew pits turned, forgetting the machinery they were manning. "Prepare them to engage the enemy. I want every UNIT Corps out on the field, in full force, before these aliens break into our atmo. And set us a course for London."
"It's already being done sir," informed Mace. "We are at full speed and will rendezvous with the Valiant in London within an hour."
"That's too slow," growled Adama, his patience diminishing. "Inform Colonel Augustus Oduya, to set a perimeter around the city and plan an immediate assault upon the enemy. And move the troops from Snowdon to reinforce and support them. It'll be of no use to have our enemy spread out and gone before we even arrive. I want assault, support and defensive forces in the Ops Area immediately."
"Colonel Oduya is currently assisting in evacuating the Royal family as well as Parliament sir," answered Mace. "The Tower of London base is now under the charge of Captain Erisa Mugambo."
"Then get her prepared."
"Yes sir."
"One more thing though."
"Sir?"
"Activate Delta Force."
There was a silence, as the gravity of the words struck Colonel Mace, a monstrous guilt and fear spread from within him, wriggling to burst out screaming. He had feared to hear those exact words the moment they received news of the time fields.
"Understood sir," answered Mace gravely, recollecting himself though his shaky voice betrayed him. "And what about the …Enhanced Operatives? Wade Watson?"
"They're part of my Delta Force are they not?" muttered General Adama. "Get them prepped immediately. They're my elite strike force. They'll be the first in and last out. Understood?"
"Yes sir."
Gunnery Sergeant Edward Buck removed his helmet and set it under his arm, as he eyed his crew, the Delta Force, from afar in the observation deck, engaged in whispered argument with another man, hidden in the shadows.
"You assured me they were the best."
"They are," replied Buck.
"They don't look like it. Criminals, mercenaries, assassins... They're not soldiers."
"Exactly," answered Buck simply. "We've known war. At war, soldiers die and I don't see myself making pleasurable use of my time bringing back anymore dead bodies in the near future."
He cast an angry look towards the darkness, a gleam in his eyes.
"The only way to win is to survive, and that's who I'm bringing. Survivors."
"Then you won't mind the fact General Adama will wish to add a new member to your crew?" asked the elusive man, as he handed Buck a thick personnel file. A hand shot out of the darkness and Buck received the file apprehensively.
Buck vetted it quickly, but he didn't need to. His trained eyes and experience could see, most of the information was false and whatever was probably close to the truth were heavily redacted.
"Wade Watson?" said Buck with a mild tone of surprise, as he read. "Interesting. I've heard the stories. Mighty unpredictable, but interesting."
"Adama's mainly used him as his own private grim reaper to wipe out his enemies, but now he thinks he'd be a valuable asset to your crew here. In my opinion, he's more of a hyper-lethal vector on a map than even a person. My advice, drop him where the targets are and stand back."
"Mentally unstable and hyper lethal," said Buck dismissively. "Sounds like he'll fit right in."
"Adama's calling the shots, but just don't forget… who you're really working for."
"Understood, Captain."
A flush of excitement was rising up his neck into his hollow cheeks; he looked fevered. His legs were trembling as he stumbled forwards to grab the handle of the door, head bowed and bracing himself. Then, finally, in a burst of reckless courage, the Doctor threw the doors open.
Outside, in the thundering and howling rain stood a man, utterly drenched from head to toe, who was unconcernedly joyous and sporting the widest of smiles and brightest of eyes. Then, upon seeing the Doctor, he held his arms wide open as though expectant of warm hug.
"Honey, I'm home!" he greeted them cheerfully as he put a foot forwards and attempted to enter the TARDIS. However, immediately the Doctor's hand shot straight out onto the man's chest, and pushed him gently back out again into the rain.
There were neither threats nor heated words exchanged, but Ivy knew trouble was brewing. The tension built and grew in an eye blink, and it struck them all into silence. She shuffled closer to Matt and put a protective arm around him, who uncharacteristically did not shy nor shrug away from it. Jenny made a curious expression, waiting to see what would happen, but her stance was as though she were ready to strike at any moment of danger.
The Doctor stared the wild man down, his penetrating, faraway eyes ablaze and fearsome and the mysterious man gazed back intently, unblinking. They looked at each other for a long moment, saying nothing with words, but so much more in the deafening stillness. As she watched on, Ivy felt a burning desire to run from the room and, at the same time, a complete inability to move her feet.
"Master," muttered the Doctor finally. The word seemed to reverberate in the air after he had said them, though sounding neither happy nor upset.
"Doctor," replied the Master in the same calm tone and nodded.
Ivy wondered whether the two were merely acknowledging each other, and looked eagerly at the Doctor for a sign that she was right, but the Doctor did not look away. Jenny glanced from her dad to Ivy, and in the strange quelled preamble, looking at each other every so often, both of them feeling like intruders upon a dark shared secret, waiting for some explosive reveal. They drowned in the sound of rainfall, that now was dying down the longer the silence and the hush drew on.
"Well now," said the Master emphatically all of a sudden, clapping his hands together and grinning; now determinedly looking past the Doctor. "Doctor. The man of ice and fire who walked amongst the Gods and once even held the key to time in his hands-What. Is. With. The. Kids?"
"They're my friends," replied the Doctor at once, a harsh bite in his voice and still staring at the Master as though waiting for the impossible image presented before him to offer explanation.
"Weren't we friends?" reminded the Master, though his voice kindly rather than accusatory.
"We lost that a long time ago."
There was no reply and it became hushed once more, till the Master couldn't bear it any longer.
"Okay, This feels slightly homoerotic now and it's weirding me out," he replied with genuine wide-eyed concern. "Is this weirding you out?"
The Doctor remained uncharacteristically mute, and Ivy felt a strange fear bubbling in her stomach, like some monstrous weighty parasite, now twisting and turning. She grabbed Matt tighter by the arm. All this time she had travelled with and known the Doctor, she never experienced him so lost for words. It was as if he had no desire to speak, nothing more to say to the strange man in front of them. The childlike eagerness and enthusiasm she knew so well was no longer there and the Doctor looked old and burdened.
Jenny took a step forwards, a hand stretching out to her father's shoulder.
"Dad?"
"Dad?" cried the Master suddenly, that it made Ivy jump." Not just friends then. Knew there was a new smell. Thought it could be your cologne or something. A child! Someone's been busy, eh? What is she, half Time Lord, half human like the other one?" He let out a bark of laughter.
"What do you want?" cut the Doctor sharply.
"To talk," replied the Master directly, his maniacal laugh dropping dead and the eyes turned cold. It was as though someone muzzled the loud beast. "Inside?"
"Outside," directed the Doctor as he pointed out of the TARDIS.
The Master simply shrugged and pulled up his dark hood further, and paced around outside. The Doctor walked out into the rain, and as Jenny took a step forwards to follow, he hesitated, contemplating for a moment. But as he looked up at the rest of them, Ivy saw his lips curl into a thin smile. It was approval. They could follow. Immediately, they followed him out of the TARDIS, coats and jackets on. But oddly, they suddenly had no need of it.
"Huh," murmured the Master as he stared out into the brightening sky, eyes narrowed and a strange unreadable expression spread across his face. "The rain's stopping. Weather's acting a bit weird isn't it?"
His comments weren't explicitly directed to the Doctor, but the Doctor seemed to make extra effort in ignoring him, as he made a tremendously prolonged fuss in locking up the TARDIS. Matt came up to him whilst he fiddled with the lock.
"So, Doctor, who is this guy?" Matt whispered, unable to contain his curiosity. However, Matt's idea of a whisper was sufficiently loud enough for the new guest to hear.
"He's bad news," the Doctor stated simply, glancing sideways towards the Master as he said it.
"Cat's out of the bag on that one isn't it? Who puts cats in bags, anyway? Cats hate bags," the Master ranted to himself, still gazing up at the sky, his hands in his pockets as he waited for the Doctor to face him. The Doctor, fittingly, spun around to face him. The Master lowered his eyes once more. Ivy, Matt and Jenny walked behind, following and listening intently to every word.
They began a silent walk, broken only by the splashing of rainwater and footsteps, out of the alley into the street and to head to nowhere specific. The Doctor simply marched and turned as he pleased and Ivy concluded his only intent was to draw the Master away from his TARDIS, though the Master seemed completely aware of what he was doing. He grinned a malicious smile throughout their walk that made Ivy's spine shiver, that had no correlation to the bitter wind now howling and sweeping the streets.
After a considerable distance, the Doctor spoke once more as they continued their meandering walk, this time softer, "It's been a long time. You look old."
"Only the good die young," the Master replied quickly, though scratching his unshaven beard and dirty blonde hair. "And you know me. I've not been a Saint. Well, except for that one time as Father Christmas. People kept calling me Jeff. Weird. What about you? Been busy?"
"Not really," shrugged the Doctor nonchalant, as though speaking to an old classmate. "Did a bit of Hamlet. Just tried to stay out of trouble."
"No! You? Out of trouble?" The Master gasped and then laughed a little.
"And you're still ticking, then?"
The Master nodded, "Unfortunately for us both, Hell had no vacancies. And death is such a small impediment to me." The Master grinned wider, baring his teeth like a dog. "Did you miss me?"
"How?" cut the Doctor grimly, ignoring his jokes and jibes.
The Master's smirk left him once again. He understood the Doctor didn't come out to play and his face became stern and serious, and they stopped walking suddenly, in the middle of the pavement, letting two elderly onlookers simply pass them by, muttering something about Harold Saxon.
"The White Guardian," he announced quietly, though his expression a touch embarrassed. "I'm sort of on her payroll - or something like that anyways."
The Doctor laughed aloud by himself, taking the Master's announcement as a punch line, but the Master did not laugh in return. Instead, he kept a grave and solemn expression, eyes in a departed frosty stare. There was no sound of his terrible and haunted laugh, nor trace of the savage and malicious grin. Slowly, the Doctor's hearty amusement died down into a chuckle and finally into an awkward cough.
The Doctor stared in disbelief, looking for the first time again to Ivy, completely unaware and unsure of anything anymore. The Master made a face and rolled his eyes at him. Then, from his trouser pocket he withdrew a tiny blinding white object, which glowed and shimmered intensely like blazing starlight. It shone and blinded them so much so that they all had to shield themselves from the light at first, before the overwhelming force subsided and Ivy saw what the Master was holding between his thumb and finger. A signet ring of pure white, that glowed and pulsated with fiery energy. The Master threw it carelessly away to the Doctor, who caught it with both hands and stared at it in utter incomprehension.
"Proof," muttered the Master. "She knew you wouldn't believe."
The Doctor's eyes narrowed and glowered upon the ring in his hands. He kept turning it over repeatedly and staring upon the emblem as though it would provide words of explanation for him or suddenly burst into a practical joke the Doctor was so sure it was a second ago.
"What's your game?" asked the Doctor incredulous and disbelieving.
"Nude twister," replied the Master simply. "But maybe not with you."
"The White Guardian?"
"Not with her either," answered the Master. "And may I add - eeew?"
"How'd- what-" asked the Doctor as he threw the ring back to the Master, still apparently confused. He caught it in one hand and deposited it back into his pocket as the Doctor searched for questions and words beyond his grasp, instead letting the confusion wash over him.
"Does it matter how or why?" asked the Master solemnly.
The sky was clearing properly now; there was a glowing rim of a clear blue over the city tops and it was once again bright. The clouds seemed to have disappeared instantly. The light fell upon the Doctor, upon his eyebrows and sharp features, upon aged lines gouged into his face Ivy swore she never saw before.
"No," answered the Doctor wearily.
"Then you know what I'm going to ask of you," said the Master. "I need your help. The White Guardian needs your help. The Universe is in danger."
"No. Forget it," the Doctor said brusquely, shrugging away the lead-lined burden ready to be heaped unto him.
"I knew you were going to say that."
"I'm not getting involved," the Doctor seemed to be getting a little angry.
The Master looked bored, "And that."
The Doctor shook his head insistently as he began to turn back the way they came, pulling Jenny and the others along by their hands, "Whatever the Guardians are playing at, we're not going to be a part of it."
The Master cackled, "But Ben-Kenobi, you are our only hope!"
"The moment we play their game, we lose!" cried the Doctor angrily, as he turned back, finger pointed to the Master's face. "No more!"
"We've already lost everything!" growled the Master angrily, pushing the Doctor back to a shop window, startling the customers inside. Some ran out muttering curse words in their direction.
"I thought the same thing a very long time ago. Turns out, I had a lot more to lose," replied the Doctor as he pushed back the Master.
The Doctor's eyes darkened. In that moment, he seemed ancient and beyond this world. Behind him, his companions watched the exchange with concerned looks. Ivy's arm wrapped around Matt's shoulders. Jenny drew close to her friends, standing in front of them as their guard, as she watched her father's every move. However, her hands were already balled into a fist, poised to strike, though her father's expression warned her off any attack.
"It's too late," the Master said, drawing closer. "The table has been set and the game's begun. This world is... it's just so wrong. Time's been tampered with and the consequences now are...monumental."
"What makes you so sure?"
"Because you can't remember how I died," he replied, his voice strange and harsh. For a moment it sounded to Ivy as though he was suddenly vulnerable. That he was suddenly exposed beneath his mask…
The hangar bay doors slid open slowly, and the glorious Valkyrie's carrier spread out in front of them like a marvel. Though the chaos and the panic from the men that ran across it in every direction dulled its' magic slightly, the vastness and the majesty of it was still clear and evident.
Rows upon rows of the world's most technologically advanced fighter jets, gunships, missile launchers and laser turrets as far as the eye could see littered before them. Soldiers and mechanics racing against the clock, preparing for the doom that was to come.
In the commotion and disarray, the wintry howling wind whipped and thrashed around them as the air rushed in and Wade instinctively caught his Fedora by the very tips of his fingers before it had a chance to depart from him once again.
"You think you're ready for this?" asked John Hart loudly over the din of the wind, an eyebrow raised dismissively towards his direction.
"Hey, you think I wear these Japanese swords on my back for the heck of it?" answered Wade to the former Time Agent, who chuckled as he finished off his bottle of wine and threw it carelessly aside, narrowly missing the man next to him, kneeled down in solitary prayer, stroking his sniper rifle reflexively.
Wade stared at the man who was so calm and tranquil amidst the pandemonium.
"The righteous stand before the darkness, and the Maker shall guide their hand," he whispered to himself, eyes shut and oblivious to all others around him.
"What's with this guy?" asked Wade, as he buttoned up his sweeping leather jacket that flapped viciously in the storm.
"Seth has his own rituals," explained John, as he pulled out a cigarette. "I have mine."
"You would do well to pray your Maker guides you along the true path," answered Seth as he opened his dazzling green eyes, one emitting an unnatural glow, and stood up gracefully alongside the others. "Our mission today is fraught with complexities."
The dark giant man that towered over them, twice as tall and large as any other man, laughed with a raspy bark of a voice.
"Hah!" he exclaimed heartily as he picked up his heavy machine gun in one massive hand, as though it weighed nothing less than a feather. "That's what Adama created us enhanced humans for. The complicated jobs."
"The three of you crazies perhaps," commented John unimpressed, as he breathed in his cigarette deeply, blowing smoke rings into the frightful breeze for his own pleasure. "The rest of us are normal."
"You're missing out then," growled Jorge as he took a step towards John, confronting him directly and being so close they could probably count each other's freckles. "Tell him what we can do Wade, Seth."
"Cut the chatter boys," interrupted Lady Christina sharply. "You two can have a good flirt later when we get back. Our ride's here."
Jorge backed down immediately, though he spat contemptuously at John. Then, from above them soared a large gunship like nothing seen before on Earth, that hovered and lowered itself down before them. As it reached the ground, the bay doors threw themselves open and two crewmen of the Valkyrie jumped out, urgently waving them in.
"This is it," exclaimed Sergeant Buck over the deafening roar of the repulsor engines and thunderous sky as he received his orders from Professor Malcolm Taylor via the comms set. "Let's move out!"
Then as they took their first step outside into the stormy dark sky, their armour and weapons shining silver by the last of the lightning flash, the Valkyrie's resounding alarms blared and echoed out the war drum's beat in every fighter's chest.
"You know the music, time to dance," growled Sergeant Buck, as he and his crew unknowingly ran out into what would be, Earth's first galactic war.
There was a pause as the Doctor and Master looked upon one another.
"You were shot. Lucy-," the Doctor started, but the Master interrupted him.
"I came back."
"I can see that."
"No. I came back," explained the Master harshly, his patience wearing thin. "And then- as fate would have it- I died again. Saving you as a matter of fact."
The Doctor looked in the Master's eyes, searching for any evidence that he could be lying. He found nothing.
"Saving me from what?"
The Master lowered his voice to a beastly growl. "Rassilon."
The Doctor looked sceptical, and his mind and words were lost. "That's impossible. If he were back, then... The time lock...I don't remember..."
"It happened. I was there. So were you. But you can't remember because time is being rewritten. In a bad way. Cannibalising itself. Time in itself is now broken and splintered at this point. The heart of coincidence," explained the Master. "And if we don't fix this now, Rassilon's gonna be the least of your worries. Besides, Temptation leans on the doorbell, but opportunity knocks only once."
"Oh, now, don't you start about the knocking."
"There's a faceless Empire that's taken over, marching towards a war of the multiverse," implored the Master. "And only we can stop it. You have to trust me."
"I can't," hissed the Doctor hotly.
"I already showed you the Guardian's Time Ring," barked the Master. "Why can't you just believe me?"
"Because you're always you -every time," said the Doctor through gritted teeth. "The Master of lies and deception."
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend."
"But what you're saying doesn't make sense," replied the Doctor. "On all our travels, I haven't seen this Empire. Not heard from it, not even seen any damage it's done. Everything's just...normal!"
"Doesn't that frighten you?" he asked. "They've blinded you and taken everything they can. Trust me. They're unlike anything you've ever faced. They've already swept through the Uncharted Regions in just a day and soon, you'll be able to see them quite clearly, because they'll be looking for you. War is coming."
"Why me? What do they want with me?"
"Shapes of things once lost are moving through the veil. The darkness heralds only the end, and the Doctor must face his past, to save our future," mumbled the Master, looking visibly unnerved. "That's what she told me."
"But how?"
The Master opened his mouth to speak but something distracted him. His eyes narrowed and concern spread across his face as he craned his head to one side, and stared fixatedly at the water droplets on the window pane of the shop. Suddenly, he took two deep lungfuls of air in, sniffing and breathing in the atmosphere. Then he immediately ran to it and licked the water droplets off.
"Does the rain smell different to you?" asked the Master bluntly, urgency ringing in his words, as he turned to the others as well. The argument he had with the Doctor suddenly seemed immediately less dire.
Ivy stared blankly at the puddles, clueless. It seemed harmless enough to her. Clear and shimmering in the light.
"Why are you so obsessed with the weather?" asked the Doctor annoyed, lifting his right foot and looked down into the tiny, unassuming, puddle of water he was standing in. The Doctor stared and sniffed it, somehow analyzing it. His face screwed up in concentration for a long while, but nothing came to his terrific mind. Instead he squat down closer to the puddle pulled out his sonic screwdriver from his coat pocket and began prodding it in the pool of water.
Ivy shifted uncomfortably as several passersby stared at them. It must have been a strange sight to see two grown men enthusiastically licking and prodding harmless rainwater.
Then, something flashed in the water. A clear light was in the water and the bodies of water began to vibrate, ever so gently. Ivy took a step back in amazement and narrowly avoided stepping into another pool of water. She stared down at it closely, mouth wide open at what began to occur. Slowly it shivered and began to creep up every surface it touched, like liquid snails, glancing rainbows off it, and when it could no longer travel up the surfaces, the water droplets began to float in the air like clear liquid bubbles.
"I've seen this before," muttered the Doctor. "Judoon H20 scoop. But he said they were all gone…lost track of the ships…Oh no. How could I have been so stupid?"
"Uhm, dad," whispered Jenny, who was staring up into the sky, eyes widened with fear. "I think he's right."
"Look at the rain," said Matt loudly, as he tugged Ivy by the arm and pointing into the sky. "The sky is torn."
And then, every head on the Earth below, turned to face the darkening heavens above, as the sky began to tear and burn. A cacophony of fire and rain, bright flaming shafts of light from behind clouds of black smoke and shadows burst and pierced the darkness unto the ground.
Chaos brewed and reigned in the sky that was ripped. Every inch of the sky now turned to flame and smoke.
Now, the Empire was at hand, and all others need endure the end of all things...
Author's Note
A very big and complex chapter. Took forever. Many changes to things had to happen for the sake of the overall storyline. But I do think it's for the better. Hope you all enjoy. Can't promise when the next chapter will be out, but it will be quite brilliant. Promise.
-Rif