Although he had gotten used to it a long time ago, it always surprised The Doctor, to some degree, to see a friend who was once young, now old. Time travel had a way of doing that; one moment your best friend could be twenty, and dewy, and one jump in a time machine, and they were wrinkled, and old. He always knew it would happen, as it was an inevitability, and yet it always shocked him.
Perhaps it was a symptom of being a Time Lord, or growing up among them. Maybe it was just that he did not age quickly. Maybe it was just some part of him that did not want them to. He was tired of losing people; and age was, in a morbid way, a slow death. He preferred not to look at it that way, even when faced with it directly.
"If it isn't the Pirate Miner himself! Still looking piratey, not so much miner-y," The Doctor greeted. He was surprised that Pierce had kept his eye patch. His house was a true example of excess; he obviously had a lot of money. That, or he was borrowing this, which was highly doubtful. Most people would have gotten that eye fixed, rather than keep the patch, even if it was expensive.
"Ha ha, you ain't changed a bit!" he laughed, rushing down the steps. He held out his hand, first shaking Sarah Jane's, than The Doctors.
"Thank you so much for inviting us, that was very kind of you. It was quite a surprise. It's been so long," Sarah thanked, ever diplomatic. In reality it had been an hour at the most. Not even. The Doctor almost blurted that out, but stopped himself. A little restraint, though not his strong suit, went a long way.
"Well, I had to! And lemme' tell you, it wasn't easy. You, Doctor, are a hard man to track down," he boasted.
"Thank you!" the Scotsman shouted, drawing a strange look from Sarah. Was that not a complement?
"You mind If I steal your friend here for a few minutes before we get this shin-dig underway? I've wanted to speak to him for a very long time," Pierce asked, his singular eye on Sarah Jane. She shook her head.
"Not at all, he's always been the popular one," she smiled.
"The rest of the guests are gathered in the ball room, if you wish to join them." Sarah nodded to him in agreement. "Winston, do show our guest the way."
"Yes sir, right away," the butler, Winston replied. As he began to walk away, Sarah Jane followed, nodding to The Doctor as she left.
"Come this way, mate, we need to catch up," Pierce grinned, motioning for The Doctor to follow.
The pair walked down an adjoining hall. The Doctor noted that the walls were covered in expensive artwork from around the galaxy; some from famed painters of Earth like Jackson Pollack, others little known current artists that would one day be famed. Just that told him Pierce was now independently wealthy. There were millions of dollars in artwork in just that hall alone.
"So ball room, eh? As in the kind where boring people dance? Or an actual room filled with balls?" He asked. Pierce chuckled in response.
"You're an old pisser you are, still makin' the jokes." he replied. Why he found that question funny, The Doctor would never understand.
They entered a gigantic dining room from the hall. An impressive wood carved table dominated the room, fully capable of seating twenty. A bank of windows rose toward the vaulted ceilings opposite the door, giving one a perfect view of Killcrest Manor's bountiful garden. A fireplace crackled near by, lighting the room with an ethereal blue flame. Above this fireplace were another triumvirate of paintings, all three of which The Doctor recognized.
One was of a woman in a corset, standing before a table, at a fine party. This was A Bar at the Folies-Bergère, by Édouard Manet. The second depicted a vase of sunflowers; a work by Vincent Van Gogh. Lastly, was one of a woman in a white dress, holding a tattered French Flag, during a bloody battle. Liberty Leading the People, by long dead artist, Eugéne Delacroix. Pierce had impressive taste, even though he was selfishly hoarding great works that were to be enjoyed by all.
"Your art collection is impressive... and expensive. You're certainly not pirating around dig sites any more, are you Pierce," The Doctor began. Pierce looked up at the paintings as well, hands cupped behind his back.
"I'm still digging up the past, just in a different way. My days of cave ins, and unearthed robots are long over." A wistful smile came over him, one The Doctor could understand. It was one every adventurer had when they recounted the old days. He had worn that same smile himself more than once.
"Don't you miss it? The excitement, the thrill?" The Doctor asked. The pampered life of calm rest had never been his style. Everyone needed a break at times, even for a few hundred years, but he could never see himself doing so permanently. It would drive him mad.
"Sometimes... but I'm too old for that now. I made the most outta' it. I got no regrets," he shrugged, the longing remaining in his eye.
"Oh I don't know about that, look at me, older than dirt, and still running on." He would never give up his life of running across the stars, not until he took his last breath.
"I'm retiring, I'm not dead... not yet, but it's early," he laughed. The Doctor noted that the smile did not reach is eye. Odd...
"How did you end up with all of this? I mean, the last time we saw each other, you were just a bum with a dream, and now you've got a mansion," he asked. He was curious how thirty some-odd years had led to this.
"That's actually why I invited you," Pierce replied genuinely, "it happened because of you, all those years ago, in that dig site on Vorcon.
You were right about that Cyberman body. When I took it to the markets on Körkmal, I made more money than I ever dreamed of in all me life." The Doctor nodded. He wasn't surprised it had made him rich. He did not expect he would be this rich however. Pierce's next explanation cleared that up.
"The rest o' the crew squandered it on ships, and gals, and booze, but me? I wasn't that stupid. I funded more digs on better class worlds, bought more equipment, and better gear, hired better men. I funneled that money I made back into more digs, and more investments; stores, stocks, machine manufacturers, and everything in between. Killcrest United Corporations has been chuggen' along ever since." The Doctor nodded.
"Sounds like you lived up to your own ego," he smiled, "your kids know what a go getter you were back then?"
"Never had none," he sighed, "it's lonely up here at the top. Only one I feel like I can trust is Silas."
"Silas?" The Doctor exclaimed, "wasn't he..."
"Yeah that's him. Got electrocuted by a Cyberman, and lived. Tough old dog that one."
"Fascinating," whispered the Time Lord, "the fatality rate is..."
"Ninety-nine point nine-nine-eight percent," Pierce finished, "we went back, and he was still twitchin'. I used a load of money to fix him up, but he pulled through. God damned miracle. Doctor's said it was impossible."
"Improbable, not impossible. Nothing is impossible." The Doctor always appreciated stories of beating the odds. It gave him hope. He was always facing daunting odds. It did him good to know he wasn't the only one scraping by on wits, and the skin of his teeth.
"That's enough about me, what about you? What have you done in the last three decades? You ain't even aged, you look like I just saw you fifteen minutes ago! What's your secrete?"
"Oh you know, little of this, little of that. I can't believe it's been so long, feels like only an hour ago you were a cocky kid with something to prove." That wasn't technically a lie, it was an hour ago they last saw him.
"Whatever you done, it's workin. I'm glad the two of you came, it took a lot of searching to find how to get a hold of you. Thought you mighta' died for awhile, but I just had to look in the right corners and find the right people." Pierce clapped him on the back.
"That's how I like it. I'm too popular in some parts. I keep a low profile."
"Hardly!" chuckled the archeologist, "some of the stories I heard bout you, you drop outta the sky right into the action, just like ya did with me. Either way, I had to track you down. I mean, how could I not invite the man who made my whole career to my retirement party."
The Doctor took note of something strange as Pierce spoke. He had a serious, earnest look on his face, and his single eye looked far away and glassy.
"Besides... it'll be good having you around... you always see things other people don't. I always liked that... skill no one has nowadays... have a feeling we'll need those."
The Doctor wasn't sure what to make of that, but he tried not to dwell on it. The musings of someone who's adventures were done... he hoped that was all that was. It sounded far more dark.
Sarah Jane followed Winston into the ballroom. It exceeded her lavish expectations. The completely round room was made almost entirely of glass. This led to the illusion of dancing in the moonlight, beneath the exotic trees. It was only when one noticed their reflection in the dark, did that illusion disappear. If anything, it made it more impressive. On the East, and West sides of the room, floor to ceiling mirrors hung on the wall, giving the fascinating optical illusion of a never ending reflection.
High above, a crystalline chandelier lit the room in a ghostly white light, leaving the room just shadowy enough to be moody, but not enough to obscure ones vision.
Against one glass wall sat a long buffet table, clad with dishes from every corner of the galaxy. She had dined in many strange places through out the years she travelled with her Time Lord, and almost all were represented, including Earth.
She counted six guests in this room; far less than she would have expected given the size of the house. Perhaps Pierce had only invited his closest friends tonight, or he did not have many to begin with.
Three of the guests were men, equaling three women. One of the men wore a stark, blue military uniform. She noted a multitude of medals on his chest, likely displaying his rank, and achievements in an army she was not familiar with. Everything about him was proper, from his crew cut hair, to his neatly trimmed, grey moustache. His dotish eyes scanned the room back, and fourth, his training evident as he took in his surroundings.
Next to him stood a much younger man, in a tuxedo. This guest seemed to wear a wide smile at all times, his beady eyes constantly squinched in laughing glee. Everything about him bespoke of a tricky prankster, someone who laughed at the expense of both others, and himself. She watched him run his hand through his bleached, rough cut hair, as he flirted with the woman next to him.
She was stunning , in a red flowing, gown. Diamonds twinkled in her ears, and from around her neck, even shining from the tresses of her styled up-do. She too was young, but her full, red lips were turned in a frown at the man in front of her. She was not falling for his tricks. A girl as beautiful as her, had probably heard ever pick-up line in the galaxy. Nothing impressed her.
Near by, a much older woman, dressed in a fur coat, glanced over, rolling her eyes. She raised a martini glass to her wrinkled lips, wholly uninterested in the spectacle the playboy was making. She had a old world sense of style from an era that was long passed; her grey hair was cut in a bowl shape and her make-up was far too heavy, likely in an attempt to make her look much younger. Even still, her posture, and figure were extraordinary for her age, and probably man-made.
Behind her was a pretty woman with dark blue skin. Sarah was unsure what race she was, though she was enchanting. Perhaps it was the gold hair that shimmered in the light, or her liquid green eyes that were filled with soul. As she twirled her wine in the glass, she saw her level a dark look around the room, something between derision, and cunning, like a lion stalking an antelope. Looks were often deceiving, and beauty was skin deep.
She noticed the sixth guest walking toward her, and Sarah Jane realized she recognized him, though only barely. His face was marred by terrible burn scars, leaving it mottled and patchy, like misshapen clay. His left eye was opened wide, while the other seemed to droop slightly. She could see an old scar on his neck, not fully obscured by the collar of his smoking jacket, in the shape of fingers. This man was now old, grey, and scarred, but she had seen him not long ago.
Sarah Jane had watched him get choked, and electrocuted by a Cyberman when they met Pierce. This was his friend Silas, whom she, and The Doctor had thought dead.
In all rights, he should be. Almost no one survived beings shocked by a Cyberman. In fact, she had never heard of anyone doing so, especially not a human. Yet, here he stood before her, scarred but very alive.
"My goodness, you came!" he greeted. His voice had an electronic tinge to it, due to a a voice modulator. She guessed his vocal cords had been damaged by the killer cyborg all those years ago. "Pierce said he was going to try to find you. Didn't think he would, he's been looking for years."
"Silas! My God, I didn't think I'd see you again, ever! I'm so glad your alright!" replied the time traveler.
"You can't keep a good miner down," he grinned, "stroke of luck, though that was. No one thought I was gonna make it but here I am." Sarah Jane couldn't help but smile. What were the odds? She imagined he had to be more machine than man now. The surgeries had to be extensive. In fact, he was probably still having them.
"So, I see you, and Pierce are still together, good to see he kept some of the old crew," she commented. She was truly unsure what to say. She had seen him only a short time ago, but thirty years had passed for him. What do you say to someone when a lifetime had passed between you. The Doctor always opted for shouting "Sarah Jane Smith" at the top of his lungs. She attempted a bit of subtlety.
"Some of? Only one of, is more like it. The rest are scattered across the galaxy, or dead. He fixed me up after that day, and I was the only one smart enough to help him run things 'round here."
"Oh? Business partner eh?"
"You're looking at the Head of Developments of Killcrest United Corporations, missy so you best be careful," he joked with a laugh. She retuned his sentiment.
As they spoke, Sarah Jane noted another person entering the room. The mousy, wan, young woman, was one of Pierce's other servants. She wore a black, and white maid's outfit, and carried a metal tray with drinks on it. Her frizzy brown hair was tied neatly, and her youthful face was contorted in an anxious smile. She was trying to look happy, despite her obvious nervousness. It set Sarah Jane on edge. What could she be nervous about? The company? Or something else?
"I'm glad he managed to keep at least one friend. Too often, when people climb the corporate ladder, they lose everyone." Business was always too brutal for her. People discarded one and other like trash. It was never the world for her.
"Well, you know us side kicks, we can't leave! Look at you? Still knockin' around with that old geezer three decades later. We're as much caretakers as friends, weather they want to admit that or not."
Silas had a point. The Doctor was not a man who could be alone for any length of time. He was not good at it. In some ways, she knew she kept him from the darker segments of his life, just by being there. She understood him better than most did, and knew his flaws like they were her own. She had the responsibility of care. She wondered if Pierce, and Silas were the same way.
Just as she was about to answer, The Doctor walked in, Pierce right behind him. The Scotsman strolled up to her, throwing her a wink. That was never a good sign. He was up to no good.
"Good evening everyone!" Pierce shouted to the guests, "thank you all for coming. I know that this is not my largest, or most lavish party, but it is certainly the most intimate. I know each of you like my own hand, and care for you as though you are family. Now that everyone has arrived, as is customary at every Killcrest event, let us have the first dance."
With that, he clapped his hands sharply, twice. A violin score began, and each guest paired off.
"Shall we, Ms. Smith?" The Doctor, asked, holding out one hand.
"Absolutely," she replied, taking it. As with all the other guests, they began a slow Minuet, with The Doctor leading. As they began the dance, he drew her closer, beginning to whisper, giving sideways glances across the room.
"I got the guest list from Pierce. Something isn't right here," The Doctor whispered.
"How so?"
"He said they are all close, and those he cares about. Both are lies," he replied. Sarah Jane noticed Pierce himself was dancing with the maid, who looked sheepishly uncomfortable.
"Alright so, who's here?" She questioned.
"So glad you asked," he smiled devilishly, "I took the liberty of doing some research on what passes for the internet in this time period, on my phone. I was pretending to look for pictures we took on a vacation to Serdico. If Pierce mentions it, it was a fiasco." He first nodded to the military man, who danced with the blue skin alien.
"That one is Ex-Sergeant Barlow Hughes. Pierce has been investing in his off-market weapon manufacturing company for years. Unfortunately for Hughes, Pierce has reportedly convinced the rest of the share holders to sell their shares to him, which will make him the majority holder."
"Essentially forcing Hughes out of his own company," Sarah Jane deduced.
"Right. Evidently, he's not all that pleased with Pierce at the moment."
"Sounds like just the person to invite to a party," Sarah jabbed sarcastically.
"The one he's dancing with, the Ouron? That Varrillo Ka'Torca. She's a health guru to the stars, and Pierce's personal "enlightenment coach." She's been accused of fraud more times than I've changed my clothes, and peddles some malarkey, fortune cookie wisdom for exorbitant prices."
"Con by any other name," Sarah sighed. She knew she didn't like her.
"Cruella De Ville over there," he smirked, nodding to the older woman in the fur coat, "Pierce's ex-girlfriend Drucille Danville . Acting career hit the skids as she got older, and so did her relationship with Pierce." They changed direction of their dance, Sarah now leading.
"Not nice of him, he's no spring chicken," she groused.
"Rumors say she was snogging with her director so... who's to say?" The Doctor shrugged. Drucille danced with the flirty prankster Sarah Jane spotted before. He was smiling widely at Drucille, who returned a revolted eye roll.
"That one is Pierce's nephew, Ricard. He's in the headlines because of his eye patched uncle, and his slew of scandalous tapes with various women," The Doctor's disdain was evident in his tone.
"T.M.I ," Sarah Jane tried to shake that image out of her head.
"Oddly when Pierce told me he only trusts one man, it was not his flesh, and blood, but rather Silas."
"I already ran into him, I was surprised to see him alive," she explained.
"Didn't find much on him, but that one," he addressed the woman Silas danced with next the young girl who appeared again unimpressed with the man in front of her, or the party as a whole.
"Genevieve LeBeau, heiress to the Galactic Fuel Conglomerate. Some reports claim she, and Pierce are in fierce negotiations, with him, attempting to acquire sizable stock in his company. They say she is, in reality, facing financial ruin, and he is going to bail her out."
"Why would he invite any of these people to a retirement party, none of them seem to even be his friends," Sarah puzzled. "These seem like the last people he'd want to see."
"Which begs the question, what are we doing here? One of these things is not like the other," The Doctor darkly returned as they stepped passed Pierce.
"We best watch our backs," Sarah nodded. Nothing was ever as it seemed these days.
"May I say, on a brighter side, you dance beautifully," the Time Lord commented, "who taunt you?" She felt a light blush rush to her cheeks.
"You did," she replied slyly.
Suddenly, the lights in the room went out, blackening the room utterly. Blacker than pitch, she could hardly see her hand in front of her face.
"This isn't good," she heard The Doctor growled in the darkness. Voices of the other guests echoed confusion though the room.
A bright blue ball of light tore though the black, streaking across the room faster than the eyes could see. A second returned in the opposite direction, dissipating in a flash in the room's center.
Just as suddenly as the lights had turned out, they clicked back on, illuminating the room once again. A high pitched scream, belonging to Genevieve, sundered the silence, and after a second Sarah Jane knew why.
Pierce lay on the floor, a smoking hole in his chest. His flesh was melted, and cauterized shut, and his single eye stared blankly into the ceiling.
Pierce Killcrest was dead, his retirement permanent.