The Doctor returned to consciousness slowly. As she did so, she was greeted firstly by throbbing pain in the back of her head. Oh, so, not good. Where had that come from? Ah, right, someone had struck her. Hard. Talk about rude. That was no way to treat a lady! The second thing to greet her was an angry, barking voice that sounded oddly familiar. Why was it so familiar? Oh right, Donna. What did she say again?
"Who are you?" barked Donna. Honestly, took her sweet time getting round to asking that question, don't you think?
"Whacked head." murmured the Doctor, rubbing the back of her head. "Head whacked."
"Who. Are. You?", asked Donna again.
'Whoa, talk about a loaded question.' thought the Doctor. 'How do I answer without really answering. Oh, maybe pull a Donna and answer one question with three? Nah, that would only infuriate her more.'
"Just a happy go lucky tourist trying to pass through," muttered The Doctor.
Donna, obviously wasn't convinced. Changing tack, she turned to her mum. "Do you know her?"
"No," she replied simply, with conviction. It technically was true, though. Sylvia actually didn't know this lady Doctor, but she did know that she was The Doctor, possibly. Unfortunately, Donna hadn't been convinced. "You act like you do," she argued. "Ever since she arrived it's like…"
Donna's voice drifted off, staring off into the distance as if caught up in remembrance. Sylvia and the Doctor watched her in concern. What was she remembering? Thankfully, this spell was brief as she let out a world weary sigh.
"It's my fault," Donna muttered. "I am so stupid."
Without hesitation, Shaun, in a voice full of genuine love and affection, said, "No, you're not."
"I am, though." Donna settled back against the canvas side of the truck, as the Doctor sat up straighter, still rubbing the back of her sore head. "We could be living far away from here. Monte Carlo. Switzerland." Then she frowned again, confusion etched on her face, almost as if it physically hurt. Donna hugged her daughter. "You'd be safe, Rose."
"I'm okay," Rose assured her, leaning into the embrace.
"But it's all my fault. I gave away all that money."
"Why?" asked the Doctor, gently.
Donna gazed forward once again, into space, as if in a trance. "Because I thought there were places…out there. Where people are in danger, and in pain, and in fear." She shook her head, as if waking up or in disappointment. "I could help, I thought. It felt like the sort of thing he would do."
For a second no one spoke, while the Doctor and Sylvia shared a look of fear and uncertainty.
"He?", prodded the Doctor tentatively, trying to sound as casual as possible. "He as in hubby Shauny?"
As Sylvia watched in trepidation, Donna's mouth was working, trying to form words, make a sound, something, but nothing came out.
Rose and Shaun watched all this in confusion.
The Doctor watched carefully, trying to gauge just the right moment to step in and distract Donna. However, that particular decision would be made for her, as a distraction came, not from the Doctor, but from the truck braking sharply, jostling them all in the back of the truck.
The Doctor shook her head, while rubbing her temples, murmuring. "Ugh, honestly. Beginning to appreciate how bells feel!"
A second later, the canvas was tugged back forcefully, revealing that they had returned to the exact spot at the steelworks where the Doctor had caught a lift to the Nobles'. What was also revealed were guns, lots of guns, aimed their way by ranks of visored soldiers.
The Doctor simply raised her arms, with Donna doing the same, as if it were something they both did everyday. Shaun, Rose, and Sylvia slowly followed suit.
Not all of the soldiers had their visors raised, two of them did not have their faces hidden. Donna, Shaun, Rose, and Sylvia recoiled in disbelief and fear, since this was their first time witnessing psychedelic eyes.
Sylvia threw the Doctor a look of deep rooted worry and concern to which the Doctor could only shrug, smiling weakly. She knew exactly why she was so worried and concerned, and it wasn't just because of egomaniacal fuzzballs and psychedelic eyed soldiers. It was her daughter, Donna. Donna, who was starting to instinctively react to everything as if it was simply an everyday thing. She might not know why she was doing it, but she was falling back with ease into old, familiar habits from before the Meta crisis.
So not good. So not good at all! thought the Doctor to herself. I am so gone, after this. Once the Meep is settled, it's bye bye 21st century London for awhile.
Whatever it took to protect Donna, even from herself if need be.
But first, the Meep. The Meep needed sorting quick.
The soldiers led the group back through the steelworks and towards the blast furnace chamber.
As they stepped back into the chamber, The Doctor gave a facial shrug of admiration as took in the progress that had been made in her absence.
The Meep's once battle scarred ship had been expertly repaired to a gleaming cobalt beauty. The nasty gash in the side had been properly sealed and patched up. Other key components of the craft, such as its propulsion units and engines, had been properly rebuilt. As the Doctor watched, a number of people in protective clothing and equipment were busily working on the ship to restore it back to pristine condition.
"Huh, not bad. Not bad. Amazing what a little spit and polish can do?", murmured the Doctor.
Glancing around, she saw a nearby man adjusting a series of heavy-duty coaxial cables. These cables ran from the base of the rocket over to a three-sided control desk, set some distance away.
Even though the controls were most certainly alien in nature, another visored soldier stood there, operating the controls confidently.
So, mused the Doctor, the Meep had an army. An army to help repair their craft. Knew it had been too convenient with the way the ship had landed. It had been planned. The steelworks was the perfect place for repairs, with just the right resources.
A nudge from Sylvia's elbow drew the Doctor from her musings, directing her attention to four UNIT soldiers who had entered the chamber. They carried what appeared to be twisted girders, and other broken and melted bits of metal to create a crude approximation of a sedan chair, complete with a throne. Sitting or rather squatting upon this make-shift throne was the Meep, who clearly enjoyed being carried by their human slaves. The Meep gave an evil giggle as they yelled out, "Hail to the Meep!"
The enthralled soldiers stopped what they were doing to clamp their fists to their chests, in unison, and yelled out, "Hail to the Most High!"
"Human scum!" the Meep continued. "Behold my vessel to the stars! Technology far beyond your tiny, grasping minds!"
"Talk about delusions of grandeur," declared the Doctor, hands stuffed casually in her pockets. Ignoring the Meep's angry, narrow-eyes stare as they bared their razor sharp teeth, she pressed on. "What? I'm just saying, I've seen better. Your ship maybe all retro shiny, but I've seen ships that make this one here seem a bit superfluous, really. Oh, by the way, I really wouldn't, if I were you." The last part was said softer, yet rang with determination.
"Wouldn't what?", snapped the Meep.
"Fire those engines. Not from here."
The Meep's snarl slowly shifted into a darkly gleeful smile. "Oh, why not?"
"Because, That's a Double-Bladed Dagger Drive. Crude nasty things," said The Doctor explained as quickly and patiently as she could. "Stabbing down with those nasty blades," The Doctor indicated the double blades of the Drive, then at the ground below the rocket. "right into the ground. I'd say for a ship like yours, it would need to extract, oh about five square miles to gain sufficient thrust. A rather large swath of good ole London town, really. All for what? Fuel? Bit excessive, if you ask me."
Rose breathed out. "That's nine million people…"
"A great day for Meepkind," chortled the Meep. "The start of a new reign of terror as the Meep return to the stars for revenge." The Meep then pointed at the technician behind the control desk. "Activate the initializers!"
The technician obediently pressed a button and twisted a dial. "Initializers activated."
The spaceship lit up, glittering with lights.
"Brandish the gravity stanchions," commanded the Meep.
"Gravity stanchions brandished," confirmed the technician, as the stanchions at the base of the spaceship shook and retracted.
"Calibrate the flight deck," trilled the Meep.
"Flight deck calibrated," was the immediate obedient response.
At the top of the rocket, the cockpit burst into life became illuminated as a series of internal lights burst into life.
The Doctor pointed at the Meep, then at the technician at the control desk. "Doesn't that get annoying when he does that?"
The Meep glared at the Doctor with their eyes narrowed in angry annoyance, as they waved over two visored soldiers. "Guards!"
The Doctor gave a facial shrug, as she said innocently. "Something I said?"
Ignoring the Doctor, the Meep pointed at the Doctor's party imperiously. "Take the prisoners on board, now. I'll decide which one to eat first later." The soldiers bowed and walked over toward the Doctor's party. "Hail to the Meep!" Of course, everyone slammed their fists to their chests and responded in a rousing chorus. "Hail to the Most High!"
"Right, I amend my earlier statement. That is quite annoying." said the Doctor, earning her a nudge in the ribs by a concerned Sylvia as the soldiers lead the Doctor and the Noble family over to a rickety old metal cage elevator. Glancing upwards, the Doctor figured the door to the Meep's ship was on the third floor. Calculating the odds of overcoming the soldiers and escape on the amount time of time it would take to walk out of the lift, go along the walkway, and into the ship. On her own, it may have been possible, but with the Nobles, those odds reduced considerably. Basically, there was no chance at the moment.
"In," commanded one of the soldiers, while the other soldier held the cage door open. Dutifully, the Doctor's party shuffled inside. Then the soldiers joined them, closing the cage door, and activated the lift. It then began its rise toward the ship.
The Doctor glanced over toward Donna, taking in how she was reacting to the situation. Instead of being afraid or outraged, she was quiet and watchful; this was more like the Donna of old, the Donna from before the metacrisis, which was definitely not good, not good at all.
After what seemed like hours, but was more like a few minutes, the lift came to a stop at the third floor. One of the soldiers began to open the lift door, as the Doctor muttered aloud, "Third floor. Mystery, intrigue.." The lift doors opened to reveal one Shirley Anne Bingham, sitting her chair.
"Evening folks," she said - and from the arms of her chair, darts shot out, hitting each soldier in the neck. Gripping their necks, they were unconscious before they even hit the walkway.
"and surprises around every corner!" Finished the The Doctor, "Shirley Anne Bingham! Oh, I could kiss you!" The Doctor beamed happily as she stepped out of the lift, and threw her arms around Shirley in a warm hug, before stepping back to study the arms of Shirley's wheelchair. "Oh, that's totally brill! You've got weapons in the wheelchair!"
"We all have.", Shirley winked. "Well," she added urgently, "come on!"
The Doctor quickly led the way, with the Nobles following close behind. Shirley brought up the rear, performing a nifty speedy turn of her chair on the uneven flooring of the walkway. Unfortunately, their speedy retreat came to an abrupt halt as they reached a dead end. To their left rose the Meep's ship, while to their right stood a large heavy-duty metal door.
"Right, you lot," Shirley addressed to the Nobles, while indicating the steel door. "You can get out through that, down the corridor, and towards the fire escape." Turning her attention to the Doctor next, she said, "As for you, you need to get to Engine Control. Problem is, though, that it's guarded on the port side, and there's no obvious way around it."
"Well, guess I'll burn that bridge when I cross it," said the Doctor, before turning a knowing look down at Shirley. "Unless, of course, a certain someone has any other tricks up her sleeve."
Shirley flashed the Doctor a knowing smirk, as she patted the arms of her chair. "I don't just fire darts, you know."
She then pulled up the arms of her chair to reveal two miniature missiles. She then pressed buttons on her chair, firing the missiles at the wall, and with a quick blast of flying brick and mortar, the dead end became an access point to a series of walkways beyond. The Doctor patted the back of the chair as she murmured, "Chariot of delight!"
Shirley, meanwhile, threw a look toward the Nobles, who stood there staring in astonishment at what she had done. "Don't stand there, man. I'll fight them off at the lift." She jerked her head at Shaun, who immediately started wrestling the big door open. As he did so, Shirley added a "Good luck!"
Donna was staring at the hole in the wall, and then back at the Doctor with a curious look on her face. However, before she could do anything, Shaun grabbed her hand and dragged her away, yelling, "Donna, come on!"
The Doctor waved goodbye-bye as they left. "Nil desperandum, dear friends. Across the desert lies the promised land. Goodbye, Nobles. Adieu. Aufwiedersehen. Gesundheit. Farewell."
And then, they were gone.
The Doctor spun back around, clasping her hands together, with an eager, excited gleam in her eye. "Right. Nobles on their way." Judging by the yells and orders shouted below, the enslaved soldiers had noticed the explosion. "Angry, googly-eyed soldiers below. So, much time and so little to do. Wait, flip it round. Start it again."
Amidst all the chaos, the Doctor and Shirley shared a moment of bonding and understanding.
"Was that Donna Noble?" She asked reverently.
"The one and only," the Doctor said fondly.
The lift they had come up in started to descend some way behind them. "Uh oh, party crashes.", declared the Doctor, while Shirley snapped, "Go." The Doctor threw her a wink and a two fingered salute before shooting off through the whole in the wall.