A Splendid Collaboration (AoU Spin-Off)
(N.B. These shorter Slitheen stories are set between the events of the main Aliens of UNIT storyline. They focus on newer characters featuring in standalone tales as well as stories that will tie in with the main narrative arc.).
(N.B. This is a Slitheen story with mature and adult themes. Not for underage readers. Please read at your own discretion.).
(N.B. This story is set in an alternative, fictional universe.)
(This story is set synchronously with the events of: Aliens of UNIT Part Four 1/2 and 2/2).
Synopsis: The Star Slitheen Family decide to infiltrate the British Royal Family to further their agenda. But they need a willing collaborator operating from inside the monarchical structure to do their bidding first - who is willing to help them?
…
(The Premise)
Facing mounting pressure to achieve objectives that serve constructive purposes amidst a sharp rise of fatal assassinations by mysterious, hostile forces, many members of the Star Slitheen Family at Torchwood press the besieged, inexperienced leaders of that Institute, the converts James Tyler and Taylor Ashcroft Star Slitheen, to push ahead with concrete plans to infiltrate the British Monarchy; a hyper-civilised institution with global influence. After intense debating and deliberating between respected siblings, the go-ahead is finally given.
(London)
On a dark, dry summer night near the Tudor Palace, the official residency of the heir apparent to the British throne, Brian, Prince of Wales, and his consort, Princess Mary, a unknown figure dressed in a black burka outfit concealing every part of their body apart from their brown-coloured eyes hopped onto a public transport bus, paying the travel fare, taking her seat at the far back without uttering a single word to anybody nearby. This was not the first bus journey they were taking tonight. They ended up traversing on at least five of them before heading below into the London Underground and taking a few random metro trips to various parts of the British capital. Whoever this person was, they were discreetly trying to cover their tracks like a spy on foreign soil, making sure nobody could trace their exact location. Eventually, they arrived at an innocuous-looking pub - 'The Golden Calf', in an area quite close to where she originally started in the Kensington and Chelsea Borough.
Recognising the place as they re-emerged to the urban, concrete jungle surface, the Burka-clad individual speedily made haste towards the pub. An intimidating security guard with massive toned biceps stood outside, protecting the premises and filtering anybody who went in and out. The travelling individual slowed down by the entrance as she expected to face an ID check.
"Halt! Who are you?" the huge, muscular bouncer asked sternly, wary of the mysterious comer. He could not see the individual hidden away in the Burka outfit. He did not need to, actually. The person being inspected knew that they did not need to say anything. Strangely, the security staff member began sniffing the new arrival all over their body. They did not seem to mind this blatant violation of personal space. Somehow, he learned instantly who this person was, purely through bodily scent alone.
"Oh, it's you. Head on in." the guard said satisfactorily, allowing the individual to enter unimpeded no longer by anything. Once inside, they witnessed a very bustling pub laden with activity and well populated for the night… except this was no ordinary pub. Most individuals inside the premises were not human though not necessarily extraterrestrial either. They were the eight feet tall, calcium-based Raxacoricofalipatorian lifeforms, members of the Star Slitheen Family. The vast majority were happily undressed, sitting or standing in their desired 'naked' format as they socialised in a laid back atmosphere after another busy day on Earth, advancing their collective business agenda. The only drink being served here in abundance was Rakjuice, a savoury non-alcoholic substance that came in various varieties and mixed combinations. The Burka-clad individual casually made their way around the place, passing by a few occupied tables as music not heard in human cultures played gently in the background, contributing to an overall pleasant setting. No Slitheen appeared to pay them any particular attention until they decided to speak for themselves.
"Good evening, everyone." the cloaked individual said politely, reflecting a very posh, upper class accent. Reaching the bottom of their outfit and pulling it up, a homo sapien female voluntarily unveiled herself before the Raxicoricofalipatorians, waving about her untied long hair confidently before all observers as if to show off a little. To nobody's surprise, it was none other than the thin, skinny, pale white British Princess Mary De La Pole! Covering her body further underneath the Burka veil was a simple tracksuit outfit - she dressed like anyone else found on the streets outside. Quite modest, for a royal lady. By this point in history, this important member of the British monarchy was a usual client working zealously for the Star Slitheen Family. A year ago, a Slitheen woman attempted to assassinate this homo sapien whilst she was visiting the United States of America, a space where the Slitheen were also operating freely. The killing effort was botched at the crucial moment though, giving the human female a precious opportunity to plead for her life, long enough to strike a deal.
Begging hard successfully, Mary pledged to serve the Family in return for being spared. The Family agreed that a British princess could be very useful for their long-term planning. Since that point onwards, the joint collaboration efforts intensified. She came to love the meritocratic Star Slitheen who she acknowledged were a powerful, serious group that had an agenda to enact across the globe. Seeing the writing on the wall, the inevitable end of human civilisation and its replacement by a Slitheen-led alternative, the princess logically opted to join the winners well in advance. For now, she was made an honorary Star Slitheen member though she had yet to undergo a formal conversion that would irreversibly alter her physio-biology forever. She yearned to be like her fellow affable Raxicoricofalipatorians in most respects, finding much to admire in the Family.
"Hey guys, it's Mary! Hiya!" one of the Slitheen present shouted positively. Some waved their claws happily at the homo sapien. They were glad that she turned up this evening, and neither was she the only human present in this pub - there were other collaborators from many other different backgrounds who had arrived earlier or were on the cusp of leaving the building - but obviously, the princess was the most valued given her prestigious celebrity status and high hierarchical position in British society. For the fortunate Family, Mary was the entry point of getting inside the national monarchy, a domestic institution that some members were becoming more focused on these days. Controlling it would help the Slitheen solidify their grip on Britain and the Earth. A series of freak unexplainable accidents over the past decade serendipitously propelled this unknown royal couple from being twenty second in line to the throne to becoming basically the future King and Queen in waiting.
"You are not the only ones who wear a disguise.". The princess jokingly laughed hard with her counterparts, demonstrating a solid sense of humour, a genuine warmthness to her character that few people really knew about these days. It made her Raxicoricofalipatorian counterparts chuckle a little. The Burka clothing was neatly hung on a wall peg in between two human skin suits. Mary did not feel like a stranger at The Golden Calf tavern, a Family-owned business operating in plain sight within human civilisation. On the contrary, she felt right at home, hanging out with the massive non-human Raxicoricofalipatorians. No sense of awkwardness whatsoever. Likewise, they treated the human female as one of their own already.
"Why were you dressed like that? Never seen you in such clothing. I thought people of your rank within your stifling civilisation tend to prefer to clothe yourselves in the most ostentatious outfits possible?" asked another one of the Slitheen, bewildered slightly. The vast majority present inside The Golden Calf were converts from humanity themselves. They understood well how human orders worked, especially contemporary British society. How the vain, arrogant and ultra-wealthy loved to distinguish themselves from the plebian commoners as much as possible, creating a quasi-apartheid regime in effect.
"It is not easy being a royal, I will have you all know. So much attention is on you. Literally every breath is scrutinised. My goodness, it is enough to make one commit an act of suicide. I could not risk being detected on my way here. My last visit to this welcoming pub was nearly traced, remember. That would put your lives in danger too. Consequently, I purchased this Burka from an old university friend as a useful disguise. It is the last place anybody would think to look under." the royal woman explained thoroughly. The last time she snuck out of Tudor Palace via the secret underground passageways, her husband Prince Brian became terribly frightened by her sudden disappearance, sending out search parties across the capital that lasted hours.
When she finally returned to her usual residency alone a few hours later from her visit to this very pub, claiming that she had sleepwalked out of the grounds unknowingly, the royal family distrusted her from that moment onwards. Monitoring of her restricted movements became more frequent and technologised, making her an incarcerated prisoner in effect. Being a part of royalty since 2017 no longer felt enjoyable but a miserable existence to endure patiently. Coming here tonight again was a serious risk, but she was willing to make the necessary sacrifice.
"Very clever!" a Slitheen woman congratulated the human's innovative creativity. It matched the mentality of a Slitheen woman very well.
"Surprisingly, I felt very safe going about my own city dressed like this. Nobody bothered me at all. I can see why some members of this country's human population decide to dress like this. I can be myself unmolested. It's not oppressive at all, despite the propaganda the media keep conjuring up so unhelpfully." the princess analysed with full honesty, indicating that she had learned something useful from some segments of the Muslim population living in Britain, often demonised for certain cultural practices that did not fit the agenda of the dominant monoculture. Wearing a Burka for the first time tonight was a revelation for the princess. The pompous human family that she married into would never tolerate her wearing such an outfit, in public or private. Although they could never say it publicly, the Burka was associated with backwardness, barbarism and the like in their highly 'civilised' and 'progressive' outlook. Mary, however, learned through a unique direct experience tonight that this was all a convenient mythology. The manufactured hate was unwarranted and misleading. The Burka, to her genuine surprise, enabled her agency tonight.
"James and Taylor are busy with something at the minute. Fancy a game of cards to pass some time, Mary?". A sedentary Slitheen man invited the human female to sit with them and join the evening's organically-produced entertainment. How could she refuse?
"Oh, I should think that I would love that very much, Edem.". The smiling princess sat down humbly alongside the larger Slitheen bodies and played a popular game derived from a culture from another planet light years away from Earth. Mary was a willing collaborator with the Star Slitheen Family because her life since becoming a royal lady was too taxing, a burden that she was no longer willing to bear. Coming from a commoner background herself originally, her marriage into the upper-elite class led her to adopt a disorientating elitist and exclusionary existence, completely distanced from her fellow citizens. The wealthy monarchy that ruled Britain for centuries, representing it for the whole world to see, largely viewed its subjects negatively, seeing them behind closed doors as inferior and worthy of mockery. Distance from the dominated common folks had to be kept at all times. Public events that allowed a few physical interactions and smiles served as a convenient mask that maintained the deceit. Constant media attention and internal scandals only added to the unbearable reality. Mary was a complicit player herself in all of this. It made her feel guilty and regretful - she wanted out once and for all.
Gradually, the disillusioned princess became more and more uncomfortable over time. Her recent diagnosis of bowel cancer made her frightfully aware of her mortality once again. In reality, she longed to return to her commoner roots before her marriage. Hanging around with the more egalitarian and more equal Slitheen was an eye-opening experience. In the Star Slitheen, every member was technically treated like 'royalty'. On the whole, nobody suffered any mistreatment and everything was shared in common. Mary no longer wished to remain a member of her human family, willing to forgo the potential of being a future Queen consort of the King, her husband Prince Brian.
Instead, she wanted to become a permanent member of the Star Slitheen instead. To share in their unique experiences and to travel the cosmos together as one united and loving Family. That also meant a proper biological conversion which was already promised. The Raxicoricofaliaptorians already treated her as one of their own seamlessly. They never cared about the origins of non-Slitheen. Talent, capability and sincerity rightfully mattered more when it came to transforming others. The Family were already impressed by her genuine enthusiasm to serve their varied interests, making her an honorary member of their Family in the process, something which made her feel deeply indebted. After a while, the Torchwood leadership couple of James Tyler Slitheen and Taylor Ashcroft Slitheen, ex-humans from a British background and fellow converts to the Family, appeared on the scene.
"Good evening, Mary De La Pole El Bul Fashfar Star Slitheen. Our sister.". The princess rose to her feet and hugged the unclothed Taylor and James warmly, feeling their firm calcium bodies whilst they sniffed her humany body scent. They then sat down to discuss the latest operations.
"I can't stay for too long, my fellow 'siblings'. They will get suspicious if they realise I am not in bed." Mary kicked off the conversation, highlighting her personal concerns. She kept looking at her inexpensive casio wristwatch with some anxiety already kicking in, praying hard that nobody back at the palace had realised yet that she was absent.
"No worries, we will not take too long with you. Our business plans are accelerating, princess. We need to gain access to members of the royal family who run this country unelected. It's for a good cause. This country especially is getting out of control on the ground level. It is our job to keep things on a leash whilst the rest of the Family operates elsewhere." James began the conversation proper, outlining the need for infiltration. This was always something the royal lady was willing to assist with. Anything to augment the power of the Family. She wanted her fellow citizens to be transformed as well. Everyone on Earth, in fact.
"What do you need?" Mary asked for more specifics.
"You mean, who do we need?
"Okay then - who do we need?"
"The answer is: your husband, Mary." Taylor responded slowly, knowing it would shock the human female to her core.
"Oh." That was not the answer she was expecting at all. In fact, it was the worst thing she could hear. It felt as though the titan Atlas had placed the burden of holding the entire Earth on her back without warning. This was the toughest request she could ever receive.
"Are you willing to give up your husband to the Family?". The Slitheen began to test the princess, seeing if she would stay firm or crack under the pressure. The Family only worked with tough and dedicated clientele. The royal lady entered a minute of silence before returning to speech with a definitive answer.
"Is there not any other way? Could you not go for someone else?" Mary enquired desperately. She knew that the Star Slitheen were ruthless, that they tended to wear the skins of those they sought out. Motivated by love, she wanted her husband's life to be spared somehow. There were surely other target opportunities available, she speculated to herself. She could name a few other contender bodies that she staunchly detested…
"No." James immediately spoke back, intending to shut down all possible debating on this issue.
"Surely you have a heart of your own? Would you not feel aggrieved if you were in my position, if I asked you to take the body of your wife?". The desperate human female tried to employ rhetoric in a bid to sway the minds of her counterparts. They merely chortled at her, making her blush with increasingly reddened cheeks.
"Where was the heart of the royals whilst this country, supposedly their country, has been left to rot over the last several decades, hmm? We can recall our days as homo sapiens in this country very well - nowhere to be found! The decadent, vain and utterly feudal institution which has been in place almost without interruption since 1066 that you belong to is absolutely useless. It is a parasitic drain on this country, on humanity. Totally non-democratic. Those who belong to it do not care about anyone other than themselves. The Star Slitheen are a gift sent down by the Supreme Being onto this godforsaken rock! We will change everything, from the bottom up. Destiny can not be altered! As converts, we were once subjects to your other family, Mary. Not anymore. Never again. It's about time we all move on. True progress. The sooner, the better for all.". The Slitheen members present collectively cheered that inclusive remark. The princess found little in the speech that was contentious.
"But you-"
"Mary, we brought you here to give you instructions. As you are not yet a proper Slitheen woman, you are not yet able to influence the decision-making behind any Family operation. At the very least, we will note your understandable concerns. I will repeat what my wife has said: Are you willing to give up your husband to the Family? Only a proper Slitheen woman would do it, without hesitation." James goaded the homo sapien female, guilt-tripping her carefully. Feeling absolutely cornered, the troubled human only had one answer.
"Yes…" Mary automatically responded affirmatively without a second thought by this stage. It was not as if she could say no. The ruthless Slitheen would have killed her there and then. She had to go along with the plot. She loved Brian intensely, giving birth to three of his children. But unfortunately, he was a member of the royal family, the upper elite strata that existed structurally since mediaeval times to dominate those down below from one generation to the next. She had seen how this malevolent attitude expressed itself in real life. The Slitheen meanwhile needed certainty from their inside helper.
"Let us remind you what happens to those who have second thoughts…". A bunch of skin suits crafted from once-living homo sapiens were promptly slammed onto the table before Mary. The purpose was to intimidate and instil fear; Mary knew that she could easily be turned into this lifeless format. It was not the first time that the royal lady saw such scenes though, desensitised to such common imagery with the passage of time. The Slitheen all stared at her, awaiting to see a definite sequence of events. As if to demonstrate her desire to become a proper Slitheen woman one day, the princess messily buried her face into the skins, sniffing them animalistically. They were quite fresh. The Family purposefully made her perform this bizarre ritual on every occasion they were together.
"I am Slitheen!" Mary cried out wildly as she moved her face away from the skins. Everyone else present chuckled and guffawed at the spectacle.
"Hahaha… my, my, the Family has struck gold by having you onboard, Mary!" the James Slitheen laughed raucously, delighted with the ongoing socialisation process. It was a subtle way for Mary to indicate that she had renounced her humanity.
"I will do as you ask. For the Family." Mary declared, revealing sincerely where her true loyalties lay. She was not willing to give up the chance to become a Slitheen. It was her only proper way out of human royalty. An impromptu divorce would have her being chased by the paparazzi for the rest of her life, an untenable option.
"Time will tell. We need your husband because he is the heir apparent to the throne and has a conveniently-sized body for us to enter. The current King, we will keep in place for the time being. Nothing needs to happen to him, for now." Taylor chimed in, wondering if this homo sapien had the guts to do what was required of her. Interestingly enough, the Slitheen families never had the concept of monarchy going for them even though this institution was based on blood ties, something every Slitheen greatly valorised. Kings and Queens had no currency, no meaning to these itinerant Raxicoricofalipatorians. As a business-minded folk, the Slitheen made sure every member of their own had access to an equitable share in every business venture. Social inequality was very rare within their ranks. This appealed greatly to many converts and non-Slitheen collaborators who desired to transform and fantastically escape dire conditions of depravity. The Family never suffered from a shortage of volunteers.
"What about my children? Tell me that they will be spared. They have done nothing." Naturally, Mary wanted to at least secure the futures of her innocent offspring; Arthur, Amelia and Norman. This was her only red line which she would not be willing to compromise on at all.
"We will take them into our Family, of course. They too will become strong and beautiful Slitheen. Child Slitheen." Taylor promised, prompting the Family members seated around the table to cheer loudly. The more the merrier was how the Star Slitheen operated at this stage.
"That is acceptable to me." The princess agreed to the proposal, without consulting her husband about the matter. She could continue to raise them as her own even if their bodies were made to appear different.
"There is a significant hurdle that we face, princess. Your human family is quite big on security. We have examined the Torchwood archives dating back to the time of Queen Victoria and the foundation of the Institute. This elite group of humans that you belong to in human society have always been using extra-terrestrial technology to protect and insulate themselves, making them untouchable, in theory anyways. That is where you come in: you need to study the advanced defence system in your palaces and disable them so one of us can enter. After that, we will take over proceedings but until then we are shut out." the male Slitheen leader explained, highlighting the central stumbling block to their ongoing infiltration efforts.
"Oh, I am not that tech-savvy. Honestly, I do not even know how to change a lightbulb." Mary spoke truthfully, maintaining her posh accent at all times. All of this tech talk made her head hurt. All she knew was how to have a good time and look fabulously beautiful in the process.
"No need to understand the finer mechanics of this admittedly ingenious system. You just have to do one job: utilise the mechanism that controls the entire system appropriately. Think of it like an on/off switch. Currently, the switch is on, meaning none of us can get anywhere near a single royal without burning up. You simply need to find it and turn it off without anybody else knowing." James clarified Mary's role in this scheme. It sounded more straightforward to her. Find the switch, turn it off. That was all. The Family would take care of whatever else happened afterwards.
"We tried to teleport into the Georgian Castle a few months ago. It was a fatal mistake. One of our brothers immediately eviscerated upon entry. Then we tried to get your husband when he went abroad. Same unfortunate result when a teleportation effort near the target tried to materialise. The 24/7 defence system that appears to be in effect wherever any royal is standing is something we have never encountered before. We believe that it must be turned off from the inside. That is why your actions will be crucial to our collective success." Taylor explained some declassified information to their collaborator before throwing most of the burden onto the human female.
"My condolences." the princess stated in response. Suddenly, she was turned into the key that would make this Torchwood-led operation viable. The Family were counting on her and she knew it. There could be no let downs.
"That is everything, Mary. Go back to where you came from and bide your time. Call us when you believe a good opportunity has come up. We look forward to hearing from you." James wrapped up the session. The Slitheen ordered a few more rounds of Rakjuice for that evening, whilst Mary redressed herself in that nifty Burka veil that allowed her to travel across the urban London scenery incognito. She arrived safe and sound back inside her palatial residency before anybody picked up that she had left without authorisation. After the princess physically left the location, the Slitheen members in the pub began to bicker amongst each other, arguing over who would get to inhabit the heir apparent to the British throne. Eventually, somebody deemed appropriate was democratically selected with the most votes. But he had to wait for Mary's signal to act.
(A Few Week Later)
(Tudor Palace)
A massive banquet was held by the royal couple at Tudor Palace, celebrating their latest wedding anniversary. The royals invited famous celebrity guests to their grandiose residency for an exclusive evening of the most ostentatious display of wealth and entertainment. Prince Brian wanted it to be an occasion to remember. Mary had dutifully informed the Star Slitheen about this opportunity. They prepared themselves to act. The banquet provided the perfect cover for their operation. The princess would take advantage of everyone else being distracted; having explored the palace in her free time, she would gain access to the panel controls operating the tough security defences protecting the building from external interventions. Once safely inside undetected, a Slitheen assassin would find the desired prey and take complete possession of his body.
Guest after guest arrived on that Friday evening. The media were out in full force, taking flashing picture after picture from outside the heavily-guarded gates. Around two hundred prominent human personalities from around the world turned up. In and outside the Palace, everyone was busy fraternising and socialising amidst various exotic meals and loud entertainment. A few hours into the bustling banquet, Mary found herself pouring some punch juice into a glass on her own, isolated from the celebrated crowd. Alienated, even. This evening had made her very nervous. The time to act decisively beckoned, she conceded internally to her consciousness. Holding up another glass filled with juice, she poured some additional powder into it. Clearly, it was meant for someone else. Before she could go to her intended destination, her husband, ordinarily far too busy chatting with the other guests up to this point, tugged her hand from behind.
"What's wrong, Mary? You look upset?". He turned her body so that they would face one another. The pale-white prince, tall with a heavy build, blessed with a massive head and dressed in a tailored-made silk suit that costs thousands of pounds to produce, was concerned as to why his loyal wife was bizarrely not in a party mood. She usually enjoyed these occasions.
"Oh, nothing. It's…err… I am not sure", the princess lost her speech. She could not bear to lie but neither could she tell the truth, opting to hedge between the two extremes. Her husband was irked.
"Something is troubling you. What is it?". Suddenly, the celebration seemed insignificant to his spouse's feelings, demonstrating how considerate and affectionate he could be.
"It's… the, erm…" Mary continued to hedge, completely nervous and afraid of giving away any crucial details.
"The children? Yes, I thought it would be. They are missing out on such an amazing occasion. But we did agree that it was for the best that they stay at the castle with their grandpa. They do not like loud noises, remember?", the prince reasoned. He falsely assumed that he at last discovered the source of his significant other's angst.
"Yes, quite right.". Mary's face looked downwards. She no longer had the will to maintain the pretence.
"Do not sour our fine evening with your actions. We will see them tomorrow morning. Look, cheer up and have some more punch, my darling. Enjoy yourself, otherwise rumours might start flying around that we are an unhappy couple - God forbid! I need to get back to our guests. Talk later". The affectionate prince kissed his princess on the forehead before attending to the other guests. The mere mention of the liquid juice reactivated Mary, who was feeling the burden sharply. The time to act was now. Slipping away discreetly, the royal headed into the cellars of the palace. Since her latest visit to the Golden Calf, Mary had been exploring Tudor Palace in more depth. Examining the secret library records, the security system that the Slitheen speculated were in operation were to be found in the cellars. Ordinarily, this was off-limits to most residents. Conscious that she may be watched by somebody, Mary kept a low profile as she descended down the stairs below ground level. The wine cellars acted like a maze. It took the human female a while to find her way around. When she followed her own hastily assembled map to the point X, only one more homo sapien stood in her way.
"Princess? What are you doing here?". A solitary guard tasked with protecting the security system was bewildered by her peculiar appearance at this location at this hour. He noticed she was carrying two glasses of punch.
"Oh, I am most terribly sorry to trouble you. Stuart Downing, is it not? I have heard only positive commentary about your consistent performances for our royal family." Mary apologised artificially before trying to establish a quick conversation. The peach-white guard was tall but very skinny. He was not intimidating at all although he possessed an assault rifle designed to kill if necessary.
"Yes. Princess, I must protest your coming here. This area is off-limits even to you - does your husband know that you are here?". Stuart presented himself as highly disciplined but even he was befuddled as to why Mary was here on her own.
"Here, have a glass. You deserve it for all the hard work you perform daily for our Family." The royal stretched forth a glass in her left hand to the palace guard.
"I am on duty.", he replied like a robot. Behind him, the Slitheen collaborator could see the vast electronics that underpinned the security system that protected every royal member in Britain. She had never been told about it before, having to discover everything for herself.
"Poppycock. Tonight is about celebrating my wonderful union with my husband. He would want you to enjoy this because he asked me to bring it to you directly." Mary lied. The guard stared at the smiling princess whom he served dutifully everyday for a few seconds before he reluctantly accepted the gift.
"Anything for his future Majesty." the palace employee announced solemnly before gulping some of the punch. There was something odd about the taste that he detected immediately. Too late though.
"Lovely, is it not?" Mary tried to keep the fake conversation going. She knew he would pass out shortly.
"It tastes…". After a few seconds, the guard lost control of his consciousness and passed out, allowing Mary unfettered access to the security defence control panels ahead. The princess had never seen this advanced technology before it confirmed everything her Slitheen Family had told her already. She had to act speedily. Now or never. Before Stuart would wake up again.
"Let's see… is this it?… No… Hmm… has to be this…Drat!...Okay, let's see…this looks promising?...YES!". After a few rounds of trial and error, the royal collaborator found the on/off switch to the security system that James had discussed with her. Looking around side to side, she pulled the lever. The computer screens confirmed her activity.
SYSTEM OFFLINE
With the defence shields down momentarily, a Raxicoricofalipatorian was able to teleport into the cellar instantly once the princess fiddled with a ring device that alerted her other Family. He was mightily impressed by the actions of the honorary Family member.
"Well done." The Slitheen man congratulated the collaborator for her efforts this evening. This was the hard part out of the way. The Raxicoricofalipatorian looked down at the guard's body. There could be no surviving witnesses. He sunk his claws into the forehead of the body below and methodically proceeded to make a free skin suit for himself. Mary stood by, making sure they remained undetected by anybody. The careful skinning process lasted half an hour, leaving the royal infiltrator palpitating throughout the ordeal, fearful of being caught in the act. Fortunately for them, everyone was busy distracted upstairs. Nobody discovered them.
"Help me get into my disguise." The Raxicorifallipatorian requested his accomplice. The royal collaborator submissively did as she was told, crouching herself to the floor and pulling up the costume from the feet upwards. The human witnessed first hand how the Slitheen shrunk himself into the human skin. Someday, she thought, she would have similar opportunities of her own. Eventually, once the skin suit passed the belly and the Slitheen member was able to take charge of the human hands, he signalled for Mary to move away whilst he finished zipping up himself.
"Prrrrp!...It's a tight fit but I am not going to be inside this thing for too long, eh? I will stand here until the party is over. See you soon." The Slitheen bodysnatcher chuckled to himself as he finally assumed the role of the standing guard at the defence control panel. Mary made sure every part of his new clothing looked immaculate per palace protocol before she headed back up the cellar stairs on her own, mingling once again with famous and elitist personalities from around the world, this time with more enthusiasm. Her short disappearance has gone unnoticed thankfully. A few hours later, the banquet had entered and every guest had already left. The cleaning staff were hard at work, clearing up the mess left behind by the elite strata of humanity. Prince Brian had returned to his bedchambers after seeing off the Prime Minister of Japan, a close friend of his, awaiting the appearance of his wife. He planned to have an intimate evening to cap off the anniversary.
After finishing a late conversation with some palace servants, Mary was coming up the stairs. Along with her, the disguised Slitheen posing immaculately as the palace watchman Stuart Downing walked in parallel to her. The princess directed him every step of the way until they reached the bedchamber door. Nobody was around on this floor of the grandiose building, providing the perfect conditions to strike.
"This is the place?...(sniffs). Yes, you're right. I can smell him - soapy! Stand outside on guard." the Slitheen rubbed his human hands gleefully. Mary requested that he knock on the door first, to avoid arousing suspicion.
"You think I give a shit about your civilised protocols? Not a chance!". The arrogant Slitheen remarked excitedly before he opened the door and entered the bedchamber unannounced. It immediately caught Brian's attention from the back end of the room.
"Stuart? What are you doing here? Why are you not standing guard as usual?". The prince had noticed the overt break in protocol. The proper human Stuart Downing had a close bond with the heir apparent to the throne of England. They often went hunting together in exclusive rural areas of England that were enclosed, access sealed off for any commoner to participate in any similar activity.
"Prrrp!". The Slitheen answered only with his loud gas exchange. The suit was very tight.
"Is everything alright with you?". The prince was heavily concerned. This was highly unusual behaviour. Mary could hear some of the dialogue. She dreaded what was coming next.
"Paaaarp!". The gas exchange acted up more wildly and loudly, irritating the human further.
"You have my permission to speak! Out with it, man!" the prince's voice rose slightly, indicating annoyance. Outside the room, Mary's own heartbeat accelerated. How much longer did her naive husband have left to live?
"Very well, homo sapien. I need to get naked now. Not that I need your permission." The Slitheen inside Stuart Downing announced unabashedly, chuckling arrogantly. The request sounded so outlandish but before Brian could respond to it, the hidden zip on the forehead was peeled back, unleashing the usual jet blue lighting accompanied by electric humming. Before long, a green bald head appeared in place of Stuart Downing's human head. The guard had been killed and turned into a disguise, the human deduced that much as his eyes remained fixated on the crazy phenomenon unfolding before him.
"What?!". The paralysed prince panicked as he watched a Raxicoricofalipatorian unzip himself from head to toe. He wondered why the usual security system had failed to protect him. He, and potentially his entire royal family, was exposed to extraterrestrials, foreign species who he spent his entire life avoiding. Now one of them from the outside stood so intimately close to him.
"I am Slitheen!" the Raxicoricofalipatorian infiltrator proudly announced himself to his intended victim once the skin suit disguise slid to the floor, forming a messy rubbery pile. It then advanced on the heir apparent quickly.
"Aaaargh!", was the only sound that came next quickly before an uneasy silence ensued. The deed was done. Mary could not bear to watch what would happen next, failing to enter the room yet. Holding her back against the door outside, she burst into weeping tears, remembering every moment she spent with that human. She felt nothing but guilt and remorse. The palace was deserted by this point. Every guest had left, and the working staff had been given an early night off as part of the celebrations. Nobody else could have intervened. After half an hour, the Slitheen collaborator mustered the courage to enter the bedroom once again. There she saw the body of her ex-husband reanimated to its feet, unmistakably inhabited by a Star Slitheen man.
"He's big enough for me. Better than that other skinny one… I really like this bulbous head shape. It gives me more room." the Slitheen infiltrator announced happily. He moved over to a mirror to adjust his appearance appropriately. Mary remained frozen at the door entrance. Her emotions were all over the place as she breathed heavily. Copious amounts of sweat appeared on her forehead too. She helped to commit murder.
"What have I done?... Wait…". She initially regretted everything in the buildup to the infiltration but then realised that the rubbery skin suit of the palace guard Stuart Downing lay eerily beside the body… of her husband. Prince Brian was still on the floor?
"Cheer up, Mary. Prrrrp!". The disguised Slitheen, perfectly imitating the prince's posh accent, was bemused by the statue-esque state of his collaborating companion as he came over to her position, shutting the door so no other prying homo sapien could interrupt them. The princess was flabbergasted by the spectacle.
"You did not kill him?" the princess wondered. Normally, the Slitheen killed anybody if their amoral planning deemed it viable. How else could they craft skin suits authentically?
"No need. He fainted from the shock of seeing an 'alien'. Pretty pathetic if you ask me. He is fast asleep. No harm has come to him from me.". That explained why there were signs of steady breathing from his mouth and nose. The truthful Raxicoricofalipatorian predator had opted not to kill tonight. Why though, the princess wondered frantically in her head. This was becoming too much. The Family had played with her emotions all night long.
"What happened…How?". Mary asked frantically as her eyes darted from the body on the floor to the body standing upright. Both looked the same - it was Prince Brian, like-for-like. The disguised Slitheen partner laughed a little at the unorthodox scenario.
"Our clever Family decided to test out a new experimental technology we invented ourselves recently… Actually, I was ordered to steal it from Yvonne Hartman's shop Zip Up! on the ship. Don't tell anyone though otherwise we will get bollocked for it. Lucky that it worked, otherwise I would have had to skin him clean.". He held up a device that had been compressed in size before and after any usage. Mary grabbed it. It looked like a 3D printer. The one posing as the heir apparent to the British throne had 'copy and pasted' a skin suit replica after the Prince had fainted from the shock of seeing a Slitheen before his eyes, avoiding the need to murder another in cold blood. The Family were flexible and pragmatic in their activities. Suddenly, the real body of the living prince on the floor was teleported elsewhere, removing all physical traces of his presence in the palace for good.
"Wait, what have you done to him?!" Mary again was astounded by how the Slitheen actor was behaving, conducting all of his actions without informing the homo sapien in advance. The royals were used to being informed about everything they desired. The Slitheen on the other hand did not give a damn.
"Well, we cannot let him continue living here, can we?! No, I've zapped him over to the pub. Our Family will take care of him." he explained again truthfully. The dumbfounded princess could not believe a single word.
"'Take care of him'?" the words sounded ominous and sinister to the female's human ears.
"Oh for the love of Clom, sister! We are not going to kill him or make him the main course for this evening's dinner. Technically, he has done nothing wrong against us, as far as our intelligence indicates. He is still a posh, stuck up homo sapien, in my opinion. No, he will be forced to become a Slitheen like the rest of us. We can put his existence to better use than being a silly royal looking down on the rest of his fellow species. As a Raxicoricofaliaptorian, he will help us achieve our objectives on this rock". The Family had already decided months earlier how they were going to deal with the British prince; he was always going to be transformed into a Slitheen. Internally, Mary felt immensely relieved. Her husband had not been killed after all. Her Family showed him mercy. He was in a better place now, she reasoned to herself.
"Oh, that's…great." she simply said in response. Perhaps this is what James and Taylor meant when they did say that the princess's concerns were noted. They listened to her weighty demands because they saw and accepted her as a true Slitheen sister. They valued her feelings, opting for a creative solution to the ordinarily murderous infiltration process. The Slitheen deceitfully posing as the Prince of Wales picked up the rubbery skin suit of Stuart Downing. Heading to a nearby wardrobe, he pulled out a hanger. The skin of tonight's only unfortunate but necessary victim was hung messily before the wooden door slammed shut on it.
"We cannot have any human seeing that! Splendid! I'm actually quite tired. Shall we head to bed then?" The lively Slitheen playfully did a short run up before jumping onto the king-sized bed, gesturing with open arms for Mary the human to come and do the same, to land on top of him. The princess moved towards the bed silently, sliding into it beside the disguised Raxicoricofalipatorian. It felt surreal, to lie down next to a body that perfectly replicated her husband.
"What is your name?" The drama had been so much this evening that the royal wife had failed to ask the Slitheen partner for any identification. He began to laugh, a little at first before it progressively became louder and faster.
"What is so funny?" Mary failed to see why a simple question needed to prompt such behaviour.
"You will never guess it." the Slitheen declared coyly.
"What is your name? Something Something Star Slitheen?"
"It's Brian." the prince cosplayer replied with a huge smile coming onto his face, knowing the shock factor it would induce.
"No way." the princess left her mouth gawping.
"I am afraid it is. Brian Bartley El Bul Fashfar Star Slitheen.". He was a convert to the Family. A commoner. From the British Isles too.
"That is…quite ironic." Mary remarked, astounded by how everything unfolded this evening.
"It is, isn't it?! I get that we have to pretend we are a couple to look the part, Mary. But that doesn't mean we do not have to enjoy our time together." the Slitheen teased from the copied lips of Prince Brian. He desired to have a lot of fun in this promising role. The Slitheen had entered royalty! They would manipulate the monarchy to serve their long-term agenda.
"I guess not." Mary agreed with her new Slitheen partner. He kissed her forehead gently before turning over to one side, dozing off to sleep quickly. The gas exchange side effects behaved pretty capriciously for the remainder of that night, waking up the princess intermittently. The next morning, she woke up slightly later than her normal routine, noticing that her 'husband' was already up and had headed downstairs without her. Heading down the magnificent staircase and into an eating room, Mary saw her disguised partner already helping himself to the magnificent array of foods that served as breakfast.
"Mmm…this stuff is simply ravishing! Mary, come and join me at once.". The privileged prince devoured the rich breakfast offerings noisily - freshly baked croissants stuffed with eggs and caviar - alienating a few human servants in the room who baulked at this poor display of etiquette, highly unusual to see. Somewhat amused, the princess voluntarily sat down with him, ordering her first meal for the long day ahead.
"What are the next steps?" she asked the incognito Slitheen discreetly, making sure nobody else could hear them. Mary assumed automatically that he would be more informed regarding the future. The Family had entered a very promising position. Brian finished drowning his mouth with some freshly-squeezed orange juice before answering candidly.
"We have secured our primary target, our most valuable asset inside this institution. The Family don't want us to put the old man to sleep just yet. But we need more of us here. Lots of other royalty to inhabit. So, my dear 'wife', my honorary 'sister', we need to travel down the hierarchy. There are lots of other royals. The more of us on the inside, the stronger our position becomes by default. This will depend on our continuing splendid collaboration". The Slitheen explained to his faithful partner who nodded silently in acknowledgement. She understood the nature, scale and complexity of the task perfectly.
"Good morning, your highnesses.". At that moment, a guard with perfect posture walked past the royal couple, unleashing some of his gas exchange involuntarily. Mary looked up, seeing Stuart Downing's body reanimated yet again. Another Star Slitheen had already arrived at Tudor Palace. More were sure to follow. Later that evening, Mary left the palace grounds incognito, dressed once more in a neat Burka outfit to avoid undue attention whilst she roamed London. On this occasion, she did not need to worry about her 'husband' worrying that she had gone missing. In fact, he sanctioned this evening's trip to The Golden Calf. Entering the pub again, the princess happily took off her veil and joined in the rowdy congratulation party.
"Asslamu Alaykum!" Upon seeing the Burka veil being employed yet again by their honorary sister, some of the Slitheen members playfully initiated a common Arabic Islamic greeting indicating peace upon those addressed. Most converts to the Family based at Torchwood came from a British background. They were well-accustomed to hearing this popular salutation between various members of humankind in the country and beyond.
"Walaikum Assalam!" the princess Slitheen-in-waiting responded with like minded playfulness, dropping her posh tone for once, reciprocally wishing nothing but peace and serenity on her loving Family members. It did not mean anything too serious to anyone in the room. After hugging everyone, including the elated James and Taylor Slitheen couple, she took her rightful seat at the main table, conversing intensely with many interested personalities. A Slitheen man came lumbering down the stairs and sniffed the air. He then approached the spot where the princess was sitting.
"Hello there." he said, friendly. Mary looked up when she realised that she was the sole intended subject of address.
"Hi." Mary replied politely, not knowing exactly who he was, except that he was, at a bare minimum, a fellow 'brother' to her.
"I will always remember this scent, Mary." the Slitheen said courteously. She knew at that point who he was, smiling gleefully that her ex-human husband was alive. Brian Jedidah Borthwick Waltz El Bul Fashfar Star Slitheen was, ironically, transformed into a Raxicoricofalipatorian before his ex-human wife. He seemed to be taking his sudden conversion into Slitheenhood maturely. Happy to see her in warm company, the convert strangely left the pub quietly. Mary looked on observantly at his departure, wishing him the best wherever he may be going in his new life.
"Drinks are on us." the James and Taylor Slitheen announced as a heavy-laden tray filled with brimming Rakjuice came to their table. At last, Torchwood could boast of a proper success that would augment the Family's agenda to take over Earth. Saba and co over at UNIT would be pleased when they would hear of the final report to be delivered tomorrow morning. The majority-convert Star Slitheen Family had further strengthened their position in Britain, a land that they already perceived as being their common property. Enjoying the occasion, Mary lifted up a goblet very confidently, encouraging her real Family to do the exact same thing.
"TO THE FAMILY!" she cried out ecstatically, thoroughly enjoying the moment. By her actions, Mary was a Star Slitheen woman already. Her corresponding bodily transformation was a mere formality waiting to happen.
"TO THE FAMILY!" every Slitheen rose to their feet, toasting their latest success with a boisterous smashing of glasses and subsequent chugging down of the delicious liquid contents. After a few hours of non-stop constant entertainment, the princess opted to leave the premises, donning her Burka outfit once more. Stepping outside onto the street where other commoners lived and intermingled with one another, the royal lady took her time to deliberate her next move. There was no rush. The Burka covering gave her multiple options, whilst preventing anyone from seeing her, precisely how she preferred it.
"Hmm…". Rather than return back to the civilised confines of her palace prison immediately, Mary decided to take the rare opportunity to openly explore the busy capital and its diverse inhabitants on her own for the first time, without anyone monitoring her steps or knowing who she was. Intermingling with commoners, something she used to do, was an activity she fancied to indulge in once again. Independently hopping onto the nearest public transport bus, paying a standard fare like everyone else and sitting down with some of humankind who automatically, if not stereotypically, assumed Mary to be a 'conservative' Muslim woman by external appearances alone, the princess collaborator felt freer than ever as she remained totally unseen behind her protecting veil. Quite the irony, the stereotype, the paradox. Public ignorance of reality made her giggle loudly to herself.
"Are you alright there?" Someone seated nearby, a fellow commoner, a homo sapien inhabitant of Planet Earth, became somewhat concerned with the sounds emitting from the solitary incognito female as the transport vehicle ran a lap around its usual operating route through the ever-busy capital city.
"Never been better!" the burka-clad woman confidently responded as the bus stopped to pick up some more pedestrians, fellow commoners. The enquiring passenger nodded silently in respectful acknowledgement before returning his face to his mobile phone, scrolling mindlessly on a social media application.
(The End).
(To Be Continued?).
