River Song waited for the body of Captain Jack Harkness to show. She hadn't seen the flirtatious alien in some time, but it would be a comfort to see a familiar face. Since the Tenth Doctor, she hadn't seen much of him but was glad that he had been there for another adventure. He was a little quirky and a bit hyper and somewhat licentious, but he was caring and devoted to the Doctor and any other person that crossed his path. Her mind reeled with the thought of the Sycoraxan troops attacking the TARDIS. That bluest of blue painted machine that provided comfort, happiness, and escape from this prison had become a beacon of hope in her bleak life. She remembered the Tenth Regenerative form of the Doctor tell her about the Sycoraxan scandal on Christmas Day when his hand got cut off and citizens almost fell to their deaths from rooftops. Sounded like fun, she should've been there by his side. Her heart filled with warmth at his younger self with that long trench coat, pinstripe suit, and dirty converse. But here she was, waiting anxiously for the Captain to take her to save the man she loved, but where was he?!
The Sycoraxan general of Battle Troop 81 had finally cornered one of the most precious commodities throughout the 9 galaxies: the infamous Gallifreyan machine known as the TARDIS. Wherever there was a TARDIS, there was sure to be that notorious man, the Oncoming Storm, the Predator, the Bringer of Doom, the lone Time Lord, the Doctor himself. The 900-year-old man would feel another 900 years of pain and suffering from generation upon generation of Sycorax. No idea how the machine had fallen into the orbit of their drifting ship, the Sycorax had seemingly ended a war that had been dawning on them for ages, one between themselves and the Doctor. Their preemptive control over the Earth citizens was a triumphant capture until that one man put an end to the future of the Sycoraxan people. One man in his pajamas. The General had clearly remembered standing behind his leader as a yellow-haired Earthling challenged their mighty race with talk of the Shadow Proclamation. Once the Doctor had defeated their King with a fatal blow from a sword, the Sycorax fled like children. However, that cruel Time Lord had sent missiles to their retreating ships after the promise of safe and peaceful departure. He was disloyal to his word and now that they had seemingly caught him in his precious TARDIS, this was the perfect time to repay the debt he owed the Sycorax. A perfect time to see the dwindling numbers of the once mighty and puissant alien race. A perfect time for him to feel the burden of millions of Sycoraxan lives that had perished by the fires of his wrath. A perfect time for the eternal man to finally reach the end of his days at his hand.
"KEEP CHARGING" the general screamed at his men with menace and ferocity. There was no chance that this Doctor was to escape their clutches once again, not after his crimes, "Remember our purpose, remember the cries of our people as they died, remember the Sycorax!"
Troop 81 held the battering ram and roared as they charged the sealed blue doors of the Doctor's TARDIS. Their guns had made no impact against the impenetrable entrance, but they wouldn't give up, they would break down those doors. They would break them down even if it killed them.