"Doctor Who: Powers of Ten" (Invite Only!)

[Varshanka]

Commander T'Ker...

Jenny, recovering somewhat, still holding her head, edged over to The Console next to A'Lex to peer out through the door.

"Ah." She turned a little red around the edges, but she didn't shy away as she smirked to herself, and attempted conversation with A'Lex. "So that's what a male looks like naked. (It's not as completely unattractive as my anatomical downloads make it seem. But it does make me wonder how humans survived without progenation machines.)"

...The Cat, meanwhile, reappeared by Jenny's feet, curled up into a puffed-up ball of nervous fury wedged as far under The Console as he could manage. "Is he gone?"

He sniffed at the air. "Strewth, he ain't gone."

Glancing fearfully at A'Lex and at Jenny, The Cat demanded: "Please don't let him eat me."

Turning to look at Jenny A’Lex shifted her stance, moving slightly closer, her hand reaching up and slipping into the Blondes hair, pulling her closer for a sudden toe curling kiss. After a long moment she broke away. Her lips moving as she whispered softly in Jenny’s ear. “Be in my quarters tonight, Kara.” But as she spoke her hand glided down her consorts back to cup her ass, squeezing it possessively.

“Get Pilot on the line and find out when she’ll have the FTL drives back online, would you?” As much as she loved her ship, the Firefly class battle-cruiser tended to breakdown moderately often.

Moving around her The Commander gave the blonde’s backside a soft swat, “Flirt.” She said looking up at the weapon wielding guard. “Turlough, I’ve said it before. No guns. Projectile weapons on a starship are not a good thing. One misfire and you’ll breach the hull. Report to Commissar Dargo. You’re to spend four minutes in the pain booth. Go.” Dismissing him from her thoughts, entrusting her order to be obeyed she looked at the only person in the room, other than herself, that was in anything resembling a proper uniform.

Taking in his blue suit she looked him over. “The red foot wear is out of uniform Mister Hartnell-Baker, thirty lashes. Later. Right now I need you to use the optical scanners your wearing and confirm that this is the Ambassador that we’re here to meet. And do it quickly. Another Borg incursion could occur while we’re sitting here.”

Turning once more she took in the naked guest, and although most Ambassadors wore something, being naked was not unheard of, The Betazeds did perform all their religious functions nude after all. “The Ambassador of Avalon shall be given full respect in accordance with his station.” She said moving forwards her hand up, the fingers split, to form the traditional greeting. “Welcome aboard the ISS Relativity.”

“Romana, Please show the Ambassador to his quarters where he can freshen up for the dinner this evening. Put him on deck forty-two, just make sure he’s not near the Klingon. And please stop changing shape. Pick one. Preferably bipidel with hands. Although a quadrapedal polydactyl feline could be useful on the bridge, as long as you can reach the control, and not get hairballs everywhere I don’t care.”

Looking at the Ambassador she asked, “Is there anything specific you’ll be needing to make your stay more comfortable?” And although she didn’t make it obvious she did notice his rather remarkable physical structure. Better than most humans, not as good as a Vulcan or Gallifreyan, but still.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ten, Lunar's Harkness, Jen, and The Cat.

"Avalon, Third planet of the Sturgis system. Populated by the crew of Starship United Kingdom when the star whale died there over two hundred years ago. I am the last of the Royal Line of England. I can prove it in a way that will leave no doubt, if you are the same doctor that encountered my ancestor, Queen Victoria, in the late eighteen hundreds." I stated, a growl in my throat.

"Oi," The Doctor frowned, good-naturedly enough, "stroppy! Now, I dunno about this 'star whale,' Your Highness, but as I'm well aware of the events of Torchwood House in 1879, I--"

But then Harkness cleared his throat and The Doctor realised The Captain was looking back at The Console and The Doctor whirled around to stare at what was happening. His jaw dropped.

Turning to look at Jenny A’Lex shifted her stance, moving slightly closer, her hand reaching up and slipping into the Blondes hair, pulling her closer for a sudden toe curling kiss. After a long moment she broke away. Her lips moving as she whispered softly in Jenny’s ear. “Be in my quarters tonight, Kara.” But as she spoke her hand glided down her consorts back to cup her ass, squeezing it possessively.

Jenny's eyes widened considerably at the initial physical contact, and then even wider, as big as dinner plates as the Vulcan's lips locked in tight as a tractor beam on her own tiers. Startlement trilled through her spine, a kind of electric slow-motion hyperawareness and all of a sudden she had a knife in her hand...

...but then she heard "Kara," the Vulcan woman called her "Kara," and confusion swirled in amongst the defensiveness.

Wait. Who?

The hand on her hindparts was just icing on the cake, and the Vulcan drew away with a leer in her voice.

The deckplates by Jenny's foot were thrumbling, vibrating under the sole of her boot. Jenny glanced down and saw The Cat sitting there, gazing up at her with squinched-shut eyes.

"Are you purring?" she scowled. "Because of--"

The Cat shook his head, eyes widening way way wide, big and golden and dark eyes. "Oh, no, no fear, case of-- harassment and mistaken identity --that's no purring matter."

But the deckplates by Jenny's foot were still quavering and Jenny put her knife away with surgical slowness. "Riiiiight."

Harkness grinned a lopsided grin. "No purring matter at all."

The Doctor gave him a look that could have stunned an Ogron to silence, but only partly quieted Jack Harkness.

“Get Pilot on the line and find out when she’ll have the FTL drives back online, would you?” As much as she loved her ship, the Firefly class battle-cruiser tended to breakdown moderately often.

"'Pilot?'" The Doctor muttered. "'FTL?'"

"Got me swingin'," Harkness murmured back. "Maybe she wants to send flowers."

Moving around her The Commander gave the blonde’s backside a soft swat, “Flirt.”

"Wahey," The Doctor protested, flabbergasted. "Mitts off!"

Jenny stared stiletto-sharp daggers to nowhere, her hand gripping the hilt of her knife in its sheath, breathing hard through her nose.

"Flirting with disaster's more like it," The Cat commented.

She said looking up at the weapon wielding guard. “Turlough, I’ve said it before. No guns. Projectile weapons on a starship are not a good thing. One misfire and you’ll breach the hull. Report to Commissar Dargo. You’re to spend four minutes in the pain booth. Go.”

"It's not a--" Harkness attempted, but then cleared his throat at the suggestion of a "pain booth," and frowned as he processed the name he'd been called. "Wait, I have to be Turlough?"

The Doctor smirked softly. "(Well, you did try to fracture my skull earlier.)"

Jack fired back, looking profoundly disappointed at all this: "(Yeah, but not from behind.)"

Harkness hesitated. "(Maybe later.)"

The Doctor scrunched his eyes shut. "(Oh, enough!)"

Dismissing him from her thoughts, entrusting her order to be obeyed she looked at the only person in the room, other than herself, that was in anything resembling a proper uniform.

Taking in his blue suit she looked him over. “The red foot wear is out of uniform Mister Hartnell-Baker, thirty lashes. Later. Right now I need you to use the optical scanners your wearing and confirm that this is the Ambassador that we’re here to meet. And do it quickly. Another Borg incursion could occur while we’re sitting here.”

"'Hartnell-Baker,'" Harkness contemplated, "gets thirty lashes and gets to optical-scan the naked beefcake, while I get what, four minutes in an agony booth? What kind of fun could I possibly have in four minutes?"

The Doctor cleared his throat, turning even redder than his shoes, and took a step forward. "Begging your pardon, Commander--" he hesitated "--Ivanova, for my lack of decorum, I was engaged in an historical pre-enactment in Holodeck Three. And, permission to speak freely, as my comrade Acting Ensign Turlough--"

"'Ensign?'" Harkness grunted. "'Acting?'"

"--is using Firing Stock 15," The Doctor continued, stifling a Puckish grin, "I think he should be absolved of all--"

But Commander T'Ker was on her own wavelength right now, and could not be averted.

Turning once more she took in the naked guest, and although most Ambassadors wore something, being naked was not unheard of, The Betazeds did perform all their religious functions nude after all. “The Ambassador of Avalon shall be given full respect in accordance with his station.” She said moving forwards her hand up, the fingers split, to form the traditional greeting. “Welcome aboard the ISS Relativity.”

"Now she says a proper 'hello,'" The Doctor grumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers pushing his glasses up.

“Romana, Please show the Ambassador to his quarters where he can freshen up for the dinner this evening. Put him on deck forty-two, just make sure he’s not near the Klingon. And please stop changing shape. Pick one. Preferably bipidel with hands. Although a quadrapedal polydactyl feline could be useful on the bridge, as long as you can reach the control, and not get hairballs everywhere I don’t care.”

A brief silence followed this. "Wait," Jenny harrumphed, "am I still Romana? I thought I was 'Kara,' now."

"Can you change shape?" The Cat wondered, sounding a bit like an Ancient Greek atheist who'd just met Aphrodite for the first time. "Can you be fel--"

"No," Jenny snarled.

"Well," The Doctor began--

"No." Jenny stared at him like shuttlebay doors opening wide onto vast trackless gulfs of space and The Doctor about-faced and regarded The Commander.

"Deck 42," The Doctor hurriedly "explained," "is presently playing host to a traditional mock civil war between Green and Purple Drazi, given that The Sunhawk Pentallian was regrettably unavailable. But I'm sure between The Zócalo and The Promenade, EMH Arnold Rimmer and Master Chief John Crichton will have plenty for him to do until proper chambers become available."

Looking at the Ambassador she asked, “Is there anything specific you’ll be needing to make your stay more comfortable?” And although she didn’t make it obvious she did notice his rather remarkable physical structure. Better than most humans, not as good as a Vulcan or Gallifreyan, but still.

Harkness elbowed The Doctor, and The Doctor grimaced at him, but Harkness mouthed the words "optical scan," and The Doctor snapped his fingers and pointed at Harkness.

"Commander," The Doctor suggested, a hand going into his pocket, as beside and behind him Harkness gestured for The Emperor to come aboard and then shut The TARDIS door. "before we begin extending our finest luxuries to The Ambassador, should we not adhere to standard First Contact protocol and verify The Ambassador's identity with the aforementioned optical scan?"

His hand came out of his pocket wielding the same medical scope he'd used to check Donna-- hang on, Donna, we're coming for you --for vectors by which she could board The TARDIS in flight. "I'll just enhance my optical scanner with this-- erm-- cambot."

Popping this in front of his eye, he turned to face The Emperor and shone the light into each of his golden eyes. "(Sorry about the-- she's a bit bonkers, a bit stark staring bonkers, I think it might be systemic, actually, I've tried to fix her twice, never mind her, welcome to The TARDIS.)"

He paused. And lowered the scope. "'You shine like The Sun but all I require is The Moon,'" he intoned with grim cognisance. "You've got The Royal Disease all right, lupine wavelength haemovariform, genetic markers for The House of Windsor."

The scope went into one pocket and a stethoscope came out of the other, popping the ends into his ears and placing the diaphragm on The Emperor's forehead. "Yeah. But. You're not The Host, are you? It's not controlling you, you're controlling it, how did you manage that?"

Taking another step back and pocketing the stethoscope, The Doctor then removed his glasses. "Avalon," he murmured, "The Sturgis System. Final resting place for The Starship UK before the mass exodus back to Earth, and the residence of The Royal House of Plantaget, sept of The Royal House of Windsor, left in reserve on Avalon in case disaster befell The Earth, thereby preserving the royal line. Funny thing is, though-- I've never heard of any 'star whale' being connected with The Starship UK, and every time I've popped 'round your Avalon for a visit, it's been an arboreal world, not enough mammalian biomass to sustain a tea party, much less a royal house. If you are--" The Doctor paused, did a little math in his head, searched through his head full of stuff and came up with a name, educated guess but a well-educated good guess "--His Royal Highness Giles Archer Plantaget, what happened to your planet? What happened to your people?"

He narrowed his eyes. "You didn't eat them, did you? Eh? What, did they run out of mistletoe to keep you at bay?"

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Giles

My planet.

My people.

My DAUGHTER!

I threw back my head, a howl of grief echoing throughout the interior of the impossible craft I had entered. Rage, fear and hopelessness tripped the genetic switches inside my head, and the Change swept over me.

Fire raced through my blood. My nerves screamed as my bones and muscles crackled with energy, then exploded.

Muscle and bone cracked and popped as bones broke down and reformed. Muscles grew, gaining mass and density. Legs and back reshaped themselves, and a tail grew out from the base of my spine. My face cracked and broke, reshaping itself into a nightmare maw of teeth and yellow, feral eyes. Claws grew on my fingers, and black fur sheathed my body.

In seconds, a nine foot, six hundred pound monster stood in the doorway of the Tardas, looking down on the scattered humans below me.

The red haze in my blood was telling me to rend and tear. To devour the sweet meat from the bones of the prey before me.

But I was a man, not a monster.

I stood in the door of the blue craft, blood boiling, eyes shut as I fought the beast inside me.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ten. The Cat. Lunar's Jack. And Jen. - "Fight The Darkness."

He threw back his head and he bayed at the absent Moon, and his body shifted into overdrive whilst standing still. His metabolism raged, matter made itself from nothing, bioconverting ambient photons and zero-point energy and transforming them into mass...

The Doctor took a step back. Two. His hearts in his throat.

It's not just using moonlight it's using everything it can get its claws on it's growing out of background radiation...

'E' equals 'mc' squared.

Cubed.

Hypercubed.

Blimey.

It sounded agonising, the way his frame twisted and lurched and surged and swelled. But there was more to his agony than just physical pain.

Black fur.

The first one had been silver.

...oh, look at you.

As His Majesty changed, The Cat vanished anew, yowling fearfully, leaping blindly.

As His Majesty changed, Jenny forgot her pain and forgot her social discomfiture and she sped her way around The Console, she jumped such that her bootsole pushed off of the railing encircling The Console, launching herself down the gangplank, she landed next to her father and was picking his pocket and before her father could stop her she came out with the triple-enfolded sonic disruptor and she was pointing it at The Wolf's bulging heart.

Captain Harkness moved in from the side like a great black wraith in his whopping great coat and he held the shotgun before him, a perfect protective stance in concert with Jenny, Jenny held the sonic blaster parallel to the line of the shotgun's barrel, they unthinkingly moved to protect The Doctor.

But the same thing thrilled through both of their bloodstreams even as fire conflagrationed in Plantaget's.

"Oh..." Harkness breathed, and Jenny murmured: "...you're beautiful."

In seconds, a nine foot, six hundred pound monster stood in the doorway of the Tardas, looking down on the scattered humans below me.

The two soldiers leveled their weapons.

But The Doctor spoke, with all the sternness of a father who must at all costs be heeded.

"Temporal grace field," he growled. "Those aren't going to work. Even on the bare-minimal power she's got, The TARDIS protects her occupants. Even him."

Harkness hesitated, glanced at the shotgun in his hands. Jenny paused, and glanced at Harkness, and then at her father.

The Doctor grimaced. "Get out of the way."

And they did. Almost as though compelled, almost as though the don't mess with me tone in The Doctor's voice had to it a quality of Masterful mesmerism, as though not of their own accord the two soldiers moved.

They heard in his voice ancient cruelty and despair. He was a God of War and a Man of Peace.

And despite knowing that he had no defence beyond their weapons against a physical threat of this magnitude, they trusted him. And they moved, as one, aside.

The Doctor stood there. Gazing up at The Wolf.

Hands in his pockets.

And he smiled, faintly, a tiny little tickling of his lips below those darkly impossible eyes.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm so sorry.

"I don't know if you can speak right now. Enunciate. I don't know if your vocal cords are capable of human speech. But I can understand you. And I know, Your Majesty, that you can understand me.

"I speak your language. I speak every language. I could hear the dearth of intelligence in the snarling voice of The Beast of The Pit, and I can hear the ache behind your lupine hullabaloo."

He tilted his head and gazed the three feet up at The Wolf, met those clenched-shut amber eyes with his wide-open darkbrownblack abyssal stare.

"I can hear your conscience," he murmured. "And I can hear your broken heart. Your Majesty. The Wolf I knew in 1879 would never have had either of those things. It wanted to crush a world under its paws and create an empire and yet you mourn for a lost planet, a lost people. And there's something else in there, in that cry, in that mourning. My hearts've made that sound before. More than once. The loss of a child.

"It is a terrible thing for a man to outlive his children. It makes a man want to sever his ties with all that is moral, and all that is sane, it makes a man want to hearken back to The Ancient of Days, the darkness from which all life emerged clawing and spitting. But. Your Majesty. That's not allowed. Not for you.

"Remember oul' George the Third? I know you remember him."

He pursed his lips, and his voice grew in power, grew in might, swelled like The Wolf had swelled out of a man: "You know. Just as I do. That you are not permitted this... lapse. You are an Englishman and a King, Your Majesty. And Englishmen are not permitted the luxury of madness!"

He reeled back and he ground his teeth and he stared at The Wolf from a hundred light-years away. "You claim to be The King of Avalon, well I'm The Lord of Time. And unless you stop yourself from going down this path, right here and right now, unless you take this chance and stop yourself, I will."

His voice quieted. There with his hands in his pockets. His voice quieted.

"Come back down from there. And tell me what's happened. And I will fix it. So long as it is within my power I will put back what has been taken from you. But first you have to stop. And choose to put aside the luxury of madness and to not forsake the responsibility of The Crown."

He ran his tongue over his teeth.

"'Honi soit qui mal y pense,'" he reminded Giles.

And held out his hand, held out his hand to the ravening Wolf, took his hand out of his pocket and held it aloft, held it to the taller, carnivorous, nigh-unquenchable beast.

He held out his hand and he instructed The King of Avalon, in the very same certain tones in which he had ordered his friend and his daughter aside: "Come with me."

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

I will howl my song, and all who listen shall know it's majesty and sorrow

My eyes were closed but my ears heard every word.

My fingers clenched, metal screaming as my claws dug in, and I smelled the fear in the room.

I also smelled him. He knew fear, but it was not what ruled him now.
Determination was.

I can speak. Speech invokes thought, thought brings intelligence, intelligence is of man, not beast. Moreau gave us this gift when he gave us back our humanity during the Change.

I opened my eyes then, looking down on the humans before me. I looked down at the outstretched hand of the Time Lord.

I do not take the life of sentients Doctor. I am not a beast, even though I wear it's shape. Your fear, while understandable, is unnecessary.

I stepped further into the fantastic machine that the Time Lord commanded, then sat down on the floor, lowering myself down to hopefully appear less threatening.

I shall tell you all a story. I shall tell you of men who grew to be heroes, and about the death of a world. It is not a easy tale for me, but I shall draw upon the strength this form gives me, and tell you of my land, my people, and their death.

I looked into the Doctors brown globes, the thoughts swimming behind them. Maybe after you hear my tale, you will have one of your own to tell. A tale of hope.

I settled more comfortably, and began speaking.

Ten years ago life on Avalon was almost perfect. It is a temperate planet, and the last two hundred years had given up a prosperity that was envied throughout the known galaxies. We had great artists, poets, and a healthy Monarchy with two heirs to the throne, and their older siblings, my sister and I. The wolf does not waken in all of the bloodline, but as it has been for hundreds of years, those who do become one with it abdicate all ties to the throne. Hold your questions, all will be explained.

Ten years. Lots of things can change in ten years. Children can grow, people can find and loose love, and a planet can die. All in ten years.

I closed my eyes, but continued talking.

It started with the black rain that fell over Cantaberry. Scientists couldn't explain why a rain like oil fell, but it passed quickly, with no apparent ill affects to people or crops, so it faded into an oddity. By the next day the vids were prattling on about a new scandal, and it was forgotten. But then people began falling ill, and the dogs started acting strange. Running or attacking their owners for no reason. Animals can sense things people refuse to see. They knew their beloved owners were dead. They just weren't finished dying yet. By the end of a week, ten days at most, thirteen people were dead and in the morgue at the hospital. That was the first mass outbreak, for the rain was evil, and evil is patient. Infected had moved on out of Cantarbury, on to New Wales, Suffork, New London, and other places. It had spread before we knew it existed. A sneeze, a lovers kiss, thats all it took to spread it, though it was not the most effective way to do so. Those thirteen I spoke of earlier, they were the first to rise, the first to feed, and the start of the apocalypse that soon engulfed a planet. For what this rain did was kill it's host, then bring them back, not alive, but dead. Walking, and hungry. Our own loved ones rose from their deathbeds and attacked their kin, ripping flesh from bones in a ravenous hunger that never could be quenched. The plague of the walking dead began ten years ago, and in that ten years, three billion people were reduced to a few hundred thousand hiding and hoping that the billions of walking dead never found them.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ten. Lunar's Harkness. And Jen.

I can speak. Speech invokes thought, thought brings intelligence, intelligence is of man, not beast. Moreau gave us this gift when he gave us back our humanity during the Change.

"'Moreau,'" The Doctor murmured, and smiled a faint little crooked smile at that, his hand still held out for The Wolf to see.

Oh, that's not a name. That's not a name any more than 'Jack Harkness' is really a name. Or 'Doctor Caligari.'

I opened my eyes then, looking down on the humans before me. I looked down at the outstretched hand of the Time Lord.

I do not take the life of sentients Doctor. I am not a beast, even though I wear it's shape. Your fear, while understandable, is unnecessary.

The Doctor lowered his hand, letting it drift down to rest by his hip, the other hand still in his pocket, moving aside to permit The Wolf further ingress.

"All men can be beasts," he mused, thoughtfully, "no matter what they look like. Funny thing is, they can all also be angels. Being beasts is easier. Path of least resistance."

I stepped further into the fantastic machine that the Time Lord commanded, then sat down on the floor, lowering myself down to hopefully appear less threatening.

Captain Harkness and Jenny, watching warily, moved to lean against The Console. Jenny's eyes darted to T'Pol, nervously, worried that in her present darkness she would see the wolven creature as a foe and lash out.

Harkness watched Jenny's face, and watched T'Pol, and made a soothing gesture to the Vulcan hybrid beauty. Taking a page from John Hart's playbook, Harkness gazed quietly at The Commander and murmured: "'Let the Wookie win.'"

Jenny suspected that this was more of the code that everyone seemed to be talking these days, metaphors which defied translation, and held her peace. She holstered the sonic disruptor where her right-hand pulse pistol once had been.

I shall tell you all a story. I shall tell you of men who grew to be heroes, and about the death of a world. It is not a easy tale for me, but I shall draw upon the strength this form gives me, and tell you of my land, my people, and their death.

"All we're missing is a campfire," Harkness murmured, putting the safety on the shotgun and dangling it from his shoulder by its strap.

"Shush," The Doctor suggested, watching The Wolf with meticulous caution.

I looked into the Doctors brown globes, the thoughts swimming behind them. Maybe after you hear my tale, you will have one of your own to tell. A tale of hope.

"Always did like a good spinoff," The Doctor nodded quietly. "No promises, though."

I settled more comfortably, and began speaking.

Ten years ago life on Avalon was almost perfect. It is a temperate planet, and the last two hundred years had given up a prosperity that was envied throughout the known galaxies. We had great artists, poets, and a healthy Monarchy with two heirs to the throne, and their older siblings, my sister and I. The wolf does not waken in all of the bloodline, but as it has been for hundreds of years, those who do become one with it abdicate all ties to the throne. Hold your questions, all will be explained.

Ten years. Lots of things can change in ten years. Children can grow, people can find and loose love, and a planet can die. All in ten years.

The Doctor closed his eyes. A planet can die a lot faster than ten years. A lot faster.

A planet can die in a Moment.

The Wolf closed his eyes, and continued spinning his tale.

It started with the black rain that fell over Cantaberry. Scientists couldn't explain why a rain like oil fell, but it passed quickly, with no apparent ill affects to people or crops, so it faded into an oddity. By the next day the vids were prattling on about a new scandal, and it was forgotten. But then people began falling ill, and the dogs started acting strange. Running or attacking their owners for no reason. Animals can sense things people refuse to see. They knew their beloved owners were dead. They just weren't finished dying yet. By the end of a week, ten days at most, thirteen people were dead and in the morgue at the hospital. That was the first mass outbreak, for the rain was evil, and evil is patient. Infected had moved on out of Cantarbury, on to New Wales, Suffork, New London, and other places. It had spread before we knew it existed. A sneeze, a lovers kiss, thats all it took to spread it, though it was not the most effective way to do so. Those thirteen I spoke of earlier, they were the first to rise, the first to feed, and the start of the apocalypse that soon engulfed a planet. For what this rain did was kill it's host, then bring them back, not alive, but dead. Walking, and hungry. Our own loved ones rose from their deathbeds and attacked their kin, ripping flesh from bones in a ravenous hunger that never could be quenched. The plague of the walking dead began ten years ago, and in that ten years, three billion people were reduced to a few hundred thousand hiding and hoping that the billions of walking dead never found them.

The Doctor stood there.

Staring.

His eyes were ringed in red and he was shaking, more than a little, shaking where he stood.

He didn't move for a moment, he just stood there and he shook.

Bowie Base One went up.

Just like history. Precisely on schedule.

It went up it went up it went up, going down in flames.

It couldn't have escaped. It couldn't have couldn't have couldn't have.

And yet.

Thermonuclear explosion.

Ashes cast to the four winds.

Gravity .38 of Earth. Could the explosion have caused any hydrogen hydroxide particles to have attained atmospheric escape velocity? Orbital escape velocity?

Could they have--

--survived?

He grimaced, he covered his face with his hands and tried to wipe the tears, the fury, the regret away.

Oh, it's my fault.

'Evil is patient.'

'Water always wins.'

Not a saliva-borne mutagen, it's water-borne and it's had hundreds of years of interstellar drift and possible wormhole shortcuts to mutate and change and get hungrier and angrier.

It's my fault.

If I'd changed something.

Changed anything.

Then this wouldn't've--- it mightn't've--

But I couldn't. I couldn't I couldn't...

Path of least resistance.

"Dad?"

The Doctor jumped almost like he'd been stung, his daughter was touching his arm and he shook his head and he stumbled away.

Jenny frowned, and the same word again came from her throat but this time it was laced with unforgiving concern. "Dad."

Harkness couldn't look at him. There was bile in his throat and he couldn't look at The Doctor because the look on The Doctor's face was the same on the look on Harkness' after he'd killed little Steven Carter. A victory snatched only from the jaws of defeat by sacrificing innocent and beautiful life.

You bastard.

You bastard.

"Unfinished business," The Doctor managed.

And looked again at The Wolf. Pointed a finger.

"Keep talking. Don't you stop talking. I need to know the rest of it."

"I need to finish this."

 

[ChasNicollette]

The Cat.

The lightning bolts were all the different colours of the rainbow.

Above there was an ocean of rainbow, wafting like tides through the violent violet sky, and every so often there would be bolts of lightning stabbing down from that rainbow.

The colours lit the sandy landscape and the shards of glass left in previous bolts' passing.

And they lit a cave, where the great sandstone edifice that filled the horizon met with the sandstormy ground. They lit the mouth of that cave.

A golden bolt, a crimson bolt, a bolt of azure.

They lit a cat with fur of orange, sprawled, all four legs and tail limp upon the sand, at the very mouth of the cave.

They lit a tall, broad man with golden-brown hair and piercing sky-blue eyes, a massive massive man, perhaps not on the level of The Wolf when it came to scale, but approaching that level.

They lit the slender youthsome lass behind him with the dancer's build, the man's antithesis-- where his hair was touched with gold and his eyes Arctic blue, her hair was terrestrially dark and her eyes earthly darker still; where he was built like the sandstone edifice under whose eaves they stood, she was thin and coiled like wire --who tilted her head around his side-of-beef arm to peer at the cat splayed at his feet.

The mass of a man wore a t-shirt and jeans which seemed hesitant to contain his musculature. On his feet were heavy boots with steel toes.

The lass wore a gossamer summery dress, light in fabric but dark in colour, and her feet wore no shoes at all.

"Oh," she mused, a titter in her voice, her accent thickest Cockney, "look at what the cat dragged in."

The giant of a man reached down and took hold of The Cat by the scruff of its neck, with a finger and thumb each the size of an impressive tree root, then lifted The Cat to the giant's eye level. The Cat's tail twitched, rattlesnake-quick, and The Cat's eyes opened wide as slits for the merest moment, but then he went limp again, expended, exhausted.

"What's this?" the youthsome lass smirked up at the dangled quadruped. "Cat Morgan 'ere's missing a chance t' interduce 'imself? There's an irony not small in size."

She tilted her head and grinned a mocking little grin up at her towering counterpart: "Cat's got 'is tongue."

The giant grunted at this, noncommittal, as though he refused to acknowledge the scant humour in the joke, his face unchangingly grim.

"Take 'im t' th' vet, would yeh?" the lass suggested. "Then scurry quick back. More where that came from, eh'n't there?"

The giant grunted again, not a word, not a word, and gave the lass a lingering look like he wasn't sure how he felt about her bossing him around. But then he turned and walked deeper into the cave, vanishing into the darkness.

Crouching down at the mouth of the cave, gazing out at the windswept, lightning-struck plains, the lass smiled a secret little smile to herself. "'You'll save yourself time, and you'll spare yourself labour,'" she quoted, mysteriously, "'If jist you make friends with the Cat at the door.'"

 

[Varshanka]

J.A.F.O.

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

"The cities fell first. Millions of people living doorstep to doorstep. You must realize at that time we were a peaceful people. Slugthrowers were virtually unheard of, and law enforcement carried neural stunners, and seldom used them. Our military weaponry was also based on stunner technology. This was the key to their victory and our downfall".

I remembered the horror of the first few months. Nothing could have prepared us for what happened, and millions died within the first month of the outbreak.

"We, the government, tried to keep it together, tried to help our people, but nothing could prepare us for our own dead rising up and devouring us. Within two months almost all lines of communication were shattered. You don't realize how fragile modern technology is until there is nobody there to fix what breaks. We went from the modern age to almost the stone age in a matter of months. I paused a second then, eyes closed as I fought back the memories.

We lost the royal family in the second month. My sister and I were out trying to find a place to regroup when it happened. A guard had been infected and turned during dinner. Nobody got out uninfected. It took months to recover from that, but we did recover. We learned how to fight back, refined our weapons and tactics. Slowly, over four years, we started to retake what was lost. Three million humans scattered across the planet began to take back our world from over three billion dead.


I shifted, then continued.

"We were making headway. We had reclaimed some smaller towns, and were slowly rebuilding infrastructure. Parliament was rebuilt, albeit much smaller than before. I was crowned King that year, since I was the oldest. That caused a ruckus amongst the older members of Parliament, but it was done. Then the Necrolords came and everything changed again. Thats when the true death of my people began.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ten, Jen, and Lunar's Harkness.

"The cities fell first. Millions of people living doorstep to doorstep. You must realize at that time we were a peaceful people. Slugthrowers were virtually unheard of, and law enforcement carried neural stunners, and seldom used them. Our military weaponry was also based on stunner technology. This was the key to their victory and our downfall".

"'Overspecialize,'" Harkness quoted softly, sympathetically, his own "slugthrower" Webley firmly in mind, a century and more of seeing mistakes made by well-meaning leaders cost seemingly every life but his, "'and you breed in weakness. It's slow death.'"

The Doctor laughed, a soft, bitter, cynical little laugh, but made not another sound.

"We, the government, tried to keep it together, tried to help our people, but nothing could prepare us for our own dead rising up and devouring us. Within two months almost all lines of communication were shattered. You don't realize how fragile modern technology is until there is nobody there to fix what breaks. We went from the modern age to almost the stone age in a matter of months. I paused a second then, eyes closed as I fought back the memories.

The Doctor scrunched his own eyes shut, his own voice echoing again in his head just like it had done on the surface of Mars. 'Maintenance Man of The Universe...'

I could have fixed this.

He faltered, stepping backwards 'till he settled against The Console, and then slid down, slid down to sit amongst the rubble and the cables cast by The TARDIS' grievous wounds. He hunched his knees up to his chest and crossed his arms atop his knees and buried his face in those crossed arms.

He collapsed into himself and didn't even look up when his daughter sat down beside him with her arm around his shoulders.

Harkness glanced at them briefly, but remained standing.

We lost the royal family in the second month. My sister and I were out trying to find a place to regroup when it happened. A guard had been infected and turned during dinner. Nobody got out uninfected. It took months to recover from that, but we did recover. We learned how to fight back, refined our weapons and tactics. Slowly, over four years, we started to retake what was lost. Three million humans scattered across the planet began to take back our world from over three billion dead.

Harkness couldn't help but smile faintly. "Just like you said, Doctor. Humanity. 'Indomitable.'"

The Doctor's shoulders rose and fell and he let out another one of those quiet little sounds of finding bemusement in the face of utter desolation. "Yeah."

Harkness couldn't help but admire the sheer raw bad-assery of the people of Avalon. To stand back up under those kind of odds...

Captain Jack Harkness, as he was called, wouldn't have missed a fight like that.

Jenny, as she was called, had turned her back on the soldier's life, but grudgingly confessed to herself that, unlike the pointless struggle against The Hath, that was the sort of thing worth soldiering for. To bring a dead planet back to life? She was born for this.

But she didn't say a word because if their king was here, if that brave brave people's king had had to flee, then it must have gotten worse before it got better. If it had gotten better at all.

"We were making headway. We had reclaimed some smaller towns, and were slowly rebuilding infrastructure. Parliament was rebuilt, albeit much smaller than before. I was crowned King that year, since I was the oldest. That caused a ruckus amongst the older members of Parliament, but it was done. Then the Necrolords came and everything changed again. Thats when the true death of my people began.

The Doctor wondered, briefly, if that was the species' name for itself, or something instituted by them fighting against that species. Like his naming The Flood as it washed through Bowie Base One.

'Necrolords.'

Like a corruption of 'Time Lord.'

I wonder if they knew me. Knew my people. From before. Before the Ancient North Martians imprisoned them in that glacier.

He ran his tongue over his teeth. He knew he should say something, something like, 'where there's life, there's hope,' or somesuch drivel.

Instead he simply lifted his head from his curled-up ball of agony and shame and he locked eyes with The Wolf King.

And nodded.

Go on.

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

All stories have an ending, and not all endings are happy

"The Necrolords. There were twelve that invaded my world. We don't know how they arrived, nor where their homeworld is, only that they came, and the dead rose up to greet their masters.

Until then the dead, while vastly more numerous than us were a simple foe. Whatever was causing them to walk completely burned out their minds. They existed only to feed, and had no thoughts or planning left in them. They were relentless, but slow. If you kept your head and did not get surrounded you could out maneuver them our outrun them at a fast walk. The Necrolords changed that. They enhanced them just by being near them. They could change a man with a touch, and these were a different kind of dead. Faster, stronger, cunning, and still hungering. We called them revanants, and grew to fear them. Armies of millions of our lost ones were organized and controlled by these creatures, and soon our millions of survivors were down to one, then less."

I looked over at the being known as The Doctor. He was suffering. I could see it and smell it. He felt my peoples pain as if it was his own.

If his mercy was this great, his anger must burn hotter than a stars heart.

"We also learned that they could turn the two semi-sentient races of our planet. A race of giant primates. They were gentle and primitive. Peaceful herbivores that roamed the vast jungles of our planets equator. When changed they became five meter tall mountains of death and destruction. They could kill scores of us until we got a heavy weapons team in to take them down. As terrible as they were, the dragons were much much worse.

In the warm seas of our planet is a race of gigantic aquatic mammals we called Leviathans. They were smart, very smart, and shy, but eventually over the years researchers developed a way to communicate with them. The beauty of their songs, the joy at their way of seeing our world, it would bring a strong man to tears, and they too loved us back. We helped keep our planets oceans as pristine as they were before man landed there, and we learned and grew together."

Tears were running down my face as I spoke. One could not tell this tale without pain, and the death of these wondrous and beautiful beings was oh so very painful.

"When the Necrolords found out about them five went to collect them. Five beings killed thousands, for they resisted the change and most died. The ones that came back were a perversion of life that even God would have shunned. Monstrous creatures, ten, maybe fifteen meters tall, and thirty long. Skin so thick conventional weapons couldn't puncture it, and a skull that almost couldn't be broken. Worst of all was the changes that they created within them. They changed their love to hate, and awoke a hunger that could not be sated. They also gave them fire. Somehow, they saw into the ancient nightmares of my people and fashioned a biochemical weapon that churned in their massive gullet. They could breathe a mixture of acid and napaltha, which burned as it ate away at flesh, bone and metal.

Behemoths were bad, but Dragons were a death sentence. Only five Leviathans changed, the rest died, either by the Necrolords, or when they attacked, killing three of their dead and two Necrolords.

No Leviathans survive on my planet anymore. They died. We died. We all died.

I stopped, catching my breath as the emotions wrenched through me, then continued. It was time for them to learn of The End.

"We fought a loosing battle then. We found out Necrolords could be killed. One by a antimatter warhead, a suicide mission that killed five of them, and left New London a crater a hundred Kilometers across. My sister killed one when she plunged a power lance through the breast of the Dragon it was riding. The explosion leveled the town they were fighting in, and I lost her that day. I mourn her not, for she had a good death. She saved thousands by sacrificing herself.

I accounted for one myself. Their blood is black, and it burns, but their touch does not affect me, but my claws can hurt them." I looked up, the fire back in my eyes.

It's head was decorating the gates to our final fortress when they came at last to take us down. Three necrolords, a dragon, and a handful of behemoths. And the dead. Over a million walking dead.

We had been preparing for this. Plans had been set in motion, and lives lost to bring the remaining Lords of the Dead here with their war machines. We had all lost someone. I had lost my wife a scant few days earlier. A stupid careless mistake and she was gone. My daughter, she lived, but I set her mother free myself. There was no cure for their bite, no cure but a clean death. It was the last act of kindness I had for her."


Words would never explain the sorrow and loss I still felt from that day. I was King. I gave my people peace when I could. We all took care of each other. No one wanted to come back, and I would not pass this act on to others.

I was their King.

"We had a plan. A brilliant man had survived, and he developed what he called a Transporter platform. In theory, it would teleport me to our closest allied planet, forty light years away. The plan was to regroup the last survivors on the base at the Southern Pole, evac us, then bombard the planet from space if any Necrolords were left, or to quarantine and abandon it if they were all dead. Moreau had theorized that the corpses would finally reach the point of destruction from rot after five hundred or a thousand years, and once they were all finally at rest, we could return.

We drew them in, and I launched the remaining message drones to quarantine the system. I set the self destruct countdown, arming our remaining three antimatter warheads, and as what people were left evacuated to the Antarctic base, along with my daughter, I stepped on the platform and Master Thaddius threw the switch that was supposed to transport me to Capernicus 5. The platform was both a transporter, and I believe a time machine too. It also would have killed a normal man, but I survived.

Now I have a question for you Doctor. Why are there two blue boxes on this planet, and why is one as quiet as a tomb?"

 

[Varshanka]

Now I have a question for you Doctor. Why are there two blue boxes on this planet, and why is one as quiet as a tomb?"

And an eyebrow quirked upwards, almond eyes lifting and turning. A stride slowing in it’s directness. A head turned, pointed ears slipping between strands of hair. Necrolords. Necrons. Borg.

Clicking a boot heel against the floor, her stride changing, she swept past Turlough, her hand grasping his weapon and ripping it from his grip. “Everyone, stay here.” She snapped. Four strides had her out the door, her eyes flashing across the barren landscape. Searching.

Purpose. She had a purpose. The weak died. The strong survived. A jerk of her hand locked a shell in place as she swiveled, her gaze locking on the other transport vessel. Her mein became colder. Harder as she gazed at the vessel of the Adversary. The Dark one. The Gallifreyian of Legend. The vilest Time Lord to exist. The Enemy of the Doctor. It wasn’t even beyond him to duplicate the true Lord of Times T.A.R.D.I.S.

Green pooled around her eyes as she stalked forwards, ready to blow the Dark One to the Abyss if he dared show his face.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ten, Lunar's Harkness, and Jen.

"The Necrolords. There were twelve that invaded my world. We don't know how they arrived, nor where their homeworld is, only that they came, and the dead rose up to greet their masters.

Until then the dead, while vastly more numerous than us were a simple foe. Whatever was causing them to walk completely burned out their minds. They existed only to feed, and had no thoughts or planning left in them. They were relentless, but slow. If you kept your head and did not get surrounded you could out maneuver them our outrun them at a fast walk. The Necrolords changed that. They enhanced them just by being near them. They could change a man with a touch, and these were a different kind of dead. Faster, stronger, cunning, and still hungering. We called them revanants, and grew to fear them. Armies of millions of our lost ones were organized and controlled by these creatures, and soon our millions of survivors were down to one, then less."

In the heart of The Last Great Time War, millions had died every second. Time had regurgitated them back up as timelines collapsed and folded in on themselves and The Web of Time frayed and gave way to The Infinite Temporal Flux. Only for them to die again.

The Doctor had sacrificed everything, everything, everything, to put a stop to this and to stop it from getting worse.

But millions were still dying every second all over The Universe and he couldn't be everywhere and he couldn't be everywhen. Not even him.

But that didn't mean he could forgive himself for it.

He remembered everyone he failed to save. And everything he'd failed to save them from.

The Skaro Degradations rang similar in his memory to The Revenants. Twisted mutant beasts from the bottom of Davros' barrel, the failures left behind from the experiments that had created The Daleks.

...and then there was The Horde of Travesties.

He ached. And he heard every word, and he remembered those he'd failed to save.

"We also learned that they could turn the two semi-sentient races of our planet. A race of giant primates. They were gentle and primitive. Peaceful herbivores that roamed the vast jungles of our planets equator. When changed they became five meter tall mountains of death and destruction. They could kill scores of us until we got a heavy weapons team in to take them down. As terrible as they were, the dragons were much much worse.

In the warm seas of our planet is a race of gigantic aquatic mammals we called Leviathans. They were smart, very smart, and shy, but eventually over the years researchers developed a way to communicate with them. The beauty of their songs, the joy at their way of seeing our world, it would bring a strong man to tears, and they too loved us back. We helped keep our planets oceans as pristine as they were before man landed there, and we learned and grew together."

Giles' lupine eyes poured out twin rivulets and The Doctor glanced up at him with his own tear ducts mirroring those streams.

An osmium weight sank to the depths of his innards as he saw where this was going.

"When the Necrolords found out about them five went to collect them. Five beings killed thousands, for they resisted the change and most died. The ones that came back were a perversion of life that even God would have shunned. Monstrous creatures, ten, maybe fifteen meters tall, and thirty long. Skin so thick conventional weapons couldn't puncture it, and a skull that almost couldn't be broken. Worst of all was the changes that they created within them. They changed their love to hate, and awoke a hunger that could not be sated. They also gave them fire. Somehow, they saw into the ancient nightmares of my people and fashioned a biochemical weapon that churned in their massive gullet. They could breathe a mixture of acid and napaltha, which burned as it ate away at flesh, bone and metal.

Behemoths were bad, but Dragons were a death sentence. Only five Leviathans changed, the rest died, either by the Necrolords, or when they attacked, killing three of their dead and two Necrolords.

No Leviathans survive on my planet anymore. They died. We died. We all died.

The Doctor remembered the jaws of The Nightmare Child. He remembered the behemoth that had crushed Davros' flagship in its mouth, and he imagined its evolution beginning in just such a fashion, a species born out of genocide and poison.

He hung his head.

"We fought a loosing battle then. We found out Necrolords could be killed. One by a antimatter warhead, a suicide mission that killed five of them, and left New London a crater a hundred Kilometers across. My sister killed one when she plunged a power lance through the breast of the Dragon it was riding. The explosion leveled the town they were fighting in, and I lost her that day. I mourn her not, for she had a good death. She saved thousands by sacrificing herself.

I accounted for one myself. Their blood is black, and it burns, but their touch does not affect me, but my claws can hurt them." I looked up, the fire back in my eyes.

"Well done," Harkness declared. What else could be said? If a man could make a good accounting of himself in the face of all that was bereft of hope...

Jack Harkness remembered a friend who had died in front of him. An enemy so heartless as to be almost faceless. An enemy whose name he dare not speak even to Harkness' own Yankee namesake.

The villains that Giles had faced might even have been worse.

It's head was decorating the gates to our final fortress when they came at last to take us down. Three necrolords, a dragon, and a handful of behemoths. And the dead. Over a million walking dead.

We had been preparing for this. Plans had been set in motion, and lives lost to bring the remaining Lords of the Dead here with their war machines. We had all lost someone. I had lost my wife a scant few days earlier. A stupid careless mistake and she was gone. My daughter, she lived, but I set her mother free myself. There was no cure for their bite, no cure but a clean death. It was the last act of kindness I had for her."

The Doctor had been married. Oh, so very long ago.

He had had children and he had had grand-children and he had had a brother and all of that was gone now all of that was gone.

The Doctor had never had the chance to tell his parents good-bye. He had hoped they would be proud of him. But now he'd never know.

He wiped his face with both hands and dragged in breath and struggled to stay sane.

At least his latest daughter had come back from the dead.

At least she was smiling at him grimly as she once again held his hand.

Jenny had no words for this.

She had no apology for being once so set in her soldiering ways.

War was Hell.

She knew that now.

But that didn't mean she wouldn't try to storm Hell's gates and save a few therefrom.

"We had a plan. A brilliant man had survived, and he developed what he called a Transporter platform. In theory, it would teleport me to our closest allied planet, forty light years away. The plan was to regroup the last survivors on the base at the Southern Pole, evac us, then bombard the planet from space if any Necrolords were left, or to quarantine and abandon it if they were all dead. Moreau had theorized that the corpses would finally reach the point of destruction from rot after five hundred or a thousand years, and once they were all finally at rest, we could return.

We drew them in, and I launched the remaining message drones to quarantine the system. I set the self destruct countdown, arming our remaining three antimatter warheads, and as what people were left evacuated to the Antarctic base, along with my daughter, I stepped on the platform and Master Thaddius threw the switch that was supposed to transport me to Capernicus 5. The platform was both a transporter, and I believe a time machine too. It also would have killed a normal man, but I survived.

"Yeah," The Doctor noted, managing to stay capable of speech despite his misery, "time travel without a capsule. That's killer."

"Tell me about it," Harkness agreed, having actually been killed by this.

Now I have a question for you Doctor. Why are there two blue boxes on this planet, and why is one as quiet as a tomb?"

The Doctor paused. And blinked.

And stared.

"What?"

He shot to his feet, almost knocking Jenny over in the process. He stood there in his raggedy blue suit and he stared at The Wolf King.

"...what?"

He was staring stock-still stark staring when Commander T'Ker took it upon herself to make herself useful.

Clicking a boot heel against the floor, her stride changing, she swept past Turlough, her hand grasping his weapon and ripping it from his grip. “Everyone, stay here.” She snapped.

Jack, bless him, hadn't expected to be disarmed, least of all by her. But she was Vulcan quick and Vulcan strong and suddenly the photonic blunderbuss was gone from his grasp and he was in shock from The Wolf King's news and--

Jenny was on her feet, scowling, shouting after A'Lex: "Hey! That's mine!"

She shook her head, glowering, throwing her hands up in the air. "Why does everyone keep taking my guns today?"

"To be fair," Harkness replied, "you really shouldn't wave about such magnificent playthings if you're not willing to share with the rest of the class."

Jenny stared at him for a moment as if trying to decide if he was still talking about guns.

But The Doctor wasn't listening to any of them. He was grabbing his long brown coat from where it rested, miraculously unharmed, he was throwing it onto his shoulders and tugging out the collar and he was out The TARDIS' door after A'Lex.

The otherworldly landscape registered on his consciousness, the scattered, unfathomable feel of the timeline here-- I don't know where we are. --the great whopping sandstone in the distance-- That looks familiar. Bigger. Lots bigger. --and the continued presence of The Wolf King behind him, suddenly a sleeker, more compact presence, the size and shape of an overlarge Canis lupis, four feet high at the shoulder.

But he had eyes only for The Other Blue Box.

A'Lex had quite a headstart but The Doctor was a phenomenal runner.

Lightning etched the sky above them.

********​

The Wolf King surged down into fully lupine form on his way out the door after The Doctor and The Commander, and The Captain and The Doctor's Daughter were left staring after them.

Jenny put one hand on the holster at her hip and bellowed to the archway to the rest of The TARDIS: "JACK! WE'RE GOING OUTSIDE! STAY INDOORS!"

Jenny shook her head and frowned. "I wish he wouldn't wander off."

Harkness laughed softly. "You sound just like your dad. Hold on, this place is big but not immeasurable. I'll see if I can't pick him up on this thing--"

He opened the flap on his wrist-strap and touched keys. And frowned.

"That's odd."

Jenny stared at him. "Okay, you don't get to say things like that and not explain."

Harkness shook his head. "I'm detecting an outgoing teleport trace, but no re-entry, and I'm not detecting felinoid life-signs anywhere in The TARDIS. I think-- I think he's already outside. But I've no idea where."

Jenny's eyes widened, and she bolted for the door. "DAAAAAD!"

Jack Harkness smiled sardonically to himself.

"'The game's afoot,'" he declared, and sprinted after.

********​

...The Doctor ran at the top of his footspeed and caught up with A'Lex just as she reached The Other Blue Box.

His screwdriver was out in his hand and he was gazing at it with wide wide eyes: "WHAT."

He stuck his head in the open door. "Desktop theme's 'coral.' So it's. Recent?"

He swung around to look at A'Lex. "Or. It's soon. Ish. I don't know, I don't know when this is from, I don't remember this."

He frowned, glancing back at The Other Blue Box. Examining the lock.

The terrible burn-mark on the lock.

He frowned deeper. "What could scorch a TARDIS? (I don't know when it's from, can't perceive its timeline, these things are always complex with TARDISes but here it's all just fuzz, it's fizz, it's static.)"

But then he glanced at the sonic, still whistling away in his hand.

And he glanced at A'Lex. And back at the sonic. And back at A'Lex.

And waved the sonic across her with a startled little noise.

"Oh, now. What?"

 

[Varshanka]

But then he glanced at the sonic, still whistling away in his hand.

And he glanced at A'Lex. And back at the sonic. And back at A'Lex.

And waved the sonic across her with a startled little noise.

"Oh, now. What?"

Turning A’Lex looked at The Doctor, her expression cold and emotionless. “I would calculate that in order to achieve answers one must ask the right questions, and follow through with proper research.”

“Hence the first question is: Is anyone alive inside. External observation indicts the answer to be a negative. But only proper research will prove or disprove this theory.” And without so much as a how do, she kicked the door the rest of the way open and swung through like a combat veteran, covering an amazing amout of space in a blink of an eye.

“Clear,” she called out to her companions.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ten and Jen and Lunaramblings' Harkness.

Turning A’Lex looked at The Doctor, her expression cold and emotionless. “I would calculate that in order to achieve answers one must ask the right questions, and follow through with proper research.”

"Well," The Doctor allowed, desperately perplexed but trying not to show it. "Scientific method--"

“Hence the first question is: Is anyone alive inside. External observation indicts the answer to be a negative. But only proper research will prove or disprove this theory.”

"I've scanned--" The Doctor stammered, gesturing with the sonic, gesturing to The Other Blue Box, "honestly, I've scanned with the--"

And without so much as a how do, she kicked the door the rest of the way open and swung through like a combat veteran, covering an amazing amout of space in a blink of an eye.

"Oi!" The Doctor sputtered, both hands on his head, and surged after her. "Now hold on just a tick!"

“Clear,” she called out to her companions.

But if she should turn back to look, to look at those companions, she would see The Doctor standing there, see him standing there, very much as he'd stood upon the surface of Vulcan in their shared dreamspace.

"Yeah," he murmured, cool and firm without being... vicious or intimidating, this was a Doctor who was starting to solve a mystery. "This TARDIS is clear. It's also, if you'll pardon the phrase, dead as a dodo's doornail. Or it was, just a minute ago. But listen. Listen to that."

He reached up with his sonic screwdriver and he tapped his ear with the tip of the sonic. "Just listen."

And there, just on the fringes of the threshold of A'Lex' formidable Vulcan awareness, there it would be...

"Can you hear that? That little... vibration in the deckplates? A little blip in this TARDIS' signs of life? But where's the power coming from, if it wasn't there a second ago?"

He ran his tongue over his teeth, flipped the sonic in his hand, slipped this into the pocket of his suit trousers. "Where indeed?"

********​

Outside, Jenny and Captain Harkness caught up to The Wolf King in time to see A'Lex and The Doctor vanish into The Other Blue Box. In time to hear A'Lex call out that the coast was clear.

"He wasn't kidding," Harkness blinked, as bemused as he was bewildered. "(You weren't kidding, Fido.) Hold on, Barbie, Your Emperorness, hold on."

And he followed after The Doctor and The Commander, rushing in where Weeping Angels long to tread.

But Jenny sank to a half-crouch beside the four-foot massive bulk of a wolf.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Sir," Jenny shook her head, imploring, a beautiful blonde in black seeking help of The Hound of The Baskervilles. "I've-- I've lost my friend. He's a. Well. He's a cat. And he and I have gone through a lot together and I was wondering. Can you. Smell him anywhere? On... on the wind?"

********​

Harkness stepped into The Other Blue Box and found The Doctor standing there with A'Lex. He already had his wrist-strap open, he was already scanning-- "I'm not picking up any sort of life in here, though there's a quantity of--" he hesitated, and then swung the wrist-strap to level with A'Lex, and he had a look on his face like he'd just heard Harriet Jones' voice out of the blue. "Of..."

And he stopped, and he stared. "...huh."

The Doctor nodded. "Yeah. I saw that."

And he half-turned. And he looked The Captain square in the face.

"But there's something I'm not seeing," he pointed out, his voice a little sing-song and a lot dangerous. "Can you see it, Jack? What am I not seeing?"

Harkness frowned, and it was plain to see that he had no idea what The Doctor was talking about. "What're you--"

He glanced at The Console. And took another step, peering further around The Console. And he frowned deeper.

And then realisation dawned. "Oh. There's no--"

"Yeah," The Doctor nodded.

"Which means this is from--"

"--yeah."

The Captain went as white as a sheet. And he took a quick step forward and he held out his hand to A'Lex.

"Commander," Harkness pleaded, "with all due respect, as bad as it is outside, we really shouldn't be here. We need to go. Right now."

The Doctor nodded slowly, and craned his gaze up at the ceiling, as if doing some deep and dark Time Lord arithmetic in his head. "Yeah. Now would be good. Or... sooner."

 

[Varshanka]

Commander T'ker

"--yeah."

The Captain went as white as a sheet. And he took a quick step forward and he held out his hand to A'Lex.

"Commander," Harkness pleaded, "with all due respect, as bad as it is outside, we really shouldn't be here. We need to go. Right now."

The Doctor nodded slowly, and craned his gaze up at the ceiling, as if doing some deep and dark Time Lord arithmetic in his head. "Yeah. Now would be good. Or... sooner."

“Are you sure Captain? If you’re detecting energy readings we should investigate. It is the logical thing to do. To ascertain the source of the energy readings.” A’Lex replied looking at the two gentlemen with her, mostly ignoring the junior Harkness, and focusing on Captain ‘Vi.

“But if this is your decision, I will abide by it. Captain.” She finished, looking only momentarily at the out stretched hand, an anathema to a Vulcan. In any space/time reality. A public display of affection? Absurd!

Stepping past the two gentlemen she moved to the open door, “Clear, Captain.” She said, her gazing resting on the doctor, a soft green tint to the sclera of her eyes. Shifting her attention once more to the exterior of the vessel she ignored the way the points of her ears slipped through her long black hair, clearly defined, and so obviously feminine. And Vulcan.

Or Elvin if she was on a medieval world.

 

[Varshanka]

Commander T'ker

"--yeah."

The Captain went as white as a sheet. And he took a quick step forward and he held out his hand to A'Lex.

"Commander," Harkness pleaded, "with all due respect, as bad as it is outside, we really shouldn't be here. We need to go. Right now."

The Doctor nodded slowly, and craned his gaze up at the ceiling, as if doing some deep and dark Time Lord arithmetic in his head. "Yeah. Now would be good. Or... sooner."

“Are you sure Captain? If you’re detecting energy readings we should investigate. It is the logical thing to do. To ascertain the source of the energy readings.” A’Lex replied looking at the two gentlemen with her, mostly ignoring the junior Harkness, and focusing on Captain ‘Vi.

“But if this is your decision, I will abide by it. Captain.” She finished, looking only momentarily at the out stretched hand, an anathema to a Vulcan. In any space/time reality. A public display of affection? Absurd!

Stepping past the two gentlemen she moved to the open door, “Clear, Captain.” She said, her gazing resting on the doctor, a soft green tint to the sclera of her eyes. Shifting her attention once more to the exterior of the vessel she ignored the way the points of her ears slipped through her long black hair, clearly defined, and so obviously feminine. And Vulcan.

Or Elvin if she was on a medieval world.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ten and Lunaramblings' Harkness.

“Are you sure Captain? If you’re detecting energy readings we should investigate. It is the logical thing to do. To ascertain the source of the energy readings.” A’Lex replied looking at the two gentlemen with her, mostly ignoring the junior Harkness, and focusing on Captain ‘Vi.

Harkness squinted faintly, but glanced at The Doctor.

The Doctor segued seamlessly into accomodating The Commander's latest delusion as to his place in her world. He knew now that this was hardly her fault. On top of everything else that had befallen A'Lex since she'd fallen somehow through to his Universe, something else impossible had happened.

"Far be it from me, Commander," he replied, a little bit of Patrick Stewart seeping into his voice, "to cite protocol. However, this very much falls under Regulation 157, Section 3, paragraph 18."

He sniffed, slightly, and displayed a surface calm sleeted beneath with profound intensity. "Aye, Mister T'Ker. We should go. (The line must be drawn here.)"

“But if this is your decision, I will abide by it. Captain.” She finished, looking only momentarily at the out stretched hand, an anathema to a Vulcan.

Harkness withdrew his hand, suddenly realising his gaffe, casual physical contact a serious breach of etiquette. "Can't blame a guy for trying," he murmured.

The Doctor looked at him pointedly, eyes half-lidded. "Stop it."

Harkness sighed, rolled his eyes slightly. "Oh, apparently you can."

Stepping past the two gentlemen she moved to the open door, “Clear, Captain.” She said, her gazing resting on the doctor, a soft green tint to the sclera of her eyes. Shifting her attention once more to the exterior of the vessel she ignored the way the points of her ears slipped through her long black hair, clearly defined, and so obviously feminine. And Vulcan.

Or Elvin if she was on a medieval world.

Harkness smiled faintly, and admired this beauty unabashedly, if subtly.

The Doctor gave him another look, his voice quiet and low and forbidding. "You know what she's going through. If you took advantage--"

"I know, I know," Harkness shook his head. "'People who talk in the theatre.'"

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

Giles, the Wolf King of lost Avalon

I looked up at the young woman. In this form all my senses save sight were drastically heightened. I could hear both her hearts beating, smell her emotions, and her determination. Sweat and blood both were on her clothing, and the sweet scent that her race put off. The being known as Doctor smelled like her.

I lifted my nose to the air. I could smell ozone and scorched... well, it wasn't wood but it was close to it. The sands smelled like heat and time. It smelled, old. I could hear a faint hum from within the blue box, and hear cries of creatures in the distance.

They were not birds. That much I could tell.

The wind shifted and I picked up a new scent. Old sand and new fresh sand. Something I could not place. Organic, but not a known scent.

And cat. It had a odd taste to it, but it was definitely the cat that was in the other box.

I nudged the girls hand with my nose and looked off to the mass of stone and caves. I took a few steps that way then stopped, looking back at her. I chuffed softly, then continued walking to the caves.

Something over there had caught my interest. I wanted to see what that scent was.

 

[Varshanka]

Commander T'ker

Giving ‘Vi a nod T’Pol stepped out, the weapon in her hands aching to be unleashed. The changlings story sounded more like a Borg assimilation, than a fairy tail of undead monsters. But in her years of service to the Empire she’d seen a lot. Done a lot.

And before she died, she’d see a lot more.

Boots crunched on dead and dying dirt. Eyes flickered scanning the surface of the planet, watching the horizon. “The others are leaving, Captain. Shall I stop them? Or follow?” Flicking the safety on the weapon with her thumb she was ready to detain a traitorous crewman, and an ambassador, if needed. Or commanded.

“Say the word Captain, and I’ll stop them."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Jen, Ten, Lunar's Harkness. Excrement rendered aerosol.

The Wolf King pressed his face to Jenny's palm, and sauntered off towards the ancient geological edifice. She stared after him for a moment, bewildered.

And then realised this was good news and she should probably follow him.

"Right, sorry," Jenny shook her head, jogging after, catching up. "Sorry. I'm used to talking quadrupeds."

She hesitated. "(That sounded less strange in my head before I said it.)"

Behind them in the swirling dust and glitter of lightning-fused glass, Commander T'Ker stepped out of The Other Blue Box, and as The Doctor watched her do this, it suddenly occurred to him what a bone dead fool he was.

Boots crunched on dead and dying dirt. Eyes flickered scanning the surface of the planet, watching the horizon. “The others are leaving, Captain. Shall I stop them? Or follow?” Flicking the safety on the weapon with her thumb she was ready to detain a traitorous crewman, and an ambassador, if needed. Or commanded.

“Say the word Captain, and I’ll stop them."

His eyes bulged in his head and he reached for her and he ran for her and he shoved Harkness out of the way-- "A'Lex!"

And then.

And then.

As Commander T'Ker stepped away from this poor dead clinging-to-life ticking-over TARDIS, a pulsequake shook the frame of it from top to bottom, from The Cloister Room to the plasmic shell, a spark like static electricity dancing from The Other Blue Box's scorched lock to the back of A'Lex' hand.

No harm was done.

At least, not to A'Lex.

But Jenny felt that pulsequake in the fibre of her, the core of her, and in an instant she was whirled to face The Other Blue Box with Harkness' sonic disruptor in her hand, held ready.

But an alarm was going off on Harkness' wrist-strap and he glanced at this with incredulity.

But up, up in the turmoiled sky, it was though a bomb had gone off. The lightning arched in fierce cross-firing patterns, leaping fractured prismatic chaos, and as if in concert with the boiling roiling auroric stormscape, the wheeling flying distant creatures began to scream.

The Doctor stared, horrified, up into the sky, his eyes full with regret and self-loathing and mounting desperation, one hand on A'Lex' shoulder.

"You need to run," he murmured to A'Lex, his voice-- terrified --and then he screamed, he bellowed, he stood up straighter, he glanced back at Jack Harkness, he snapped his gaze out to his daughter and Giles: "YOU ALL NEED TO RUN! RIGHT NOW! RUN!"

Jenny hesitated, glancing from the sandstone edifice to The Proper Blue Box, torn in that moment between running for her friend and running for the safest place in The Universe.

Shuddering and shrieking, the sky spewed forth tendrils of murderous crackling light, and the thunder shook the ground as the bolts crashed into the ground, tracing elegant fractal patterns on the sandy soil, forming a deadly curtain that severed the lot of them from The Doctor's still-living TARDIS. The Doctor flung up his hand, staggering away from the brightness of it, looking panicked.

Screaming and baying, the shadows that circled like vultures dove and dove and dove...

The Doctor whirled to face Jack, and in an instant his hands came out of his pockets wielding the Webley and The Squareness Gun, twirling the pistols over his fingers to present the handles to The Captain. "Keep them safe. Whatever you do. Keep them safe!"

Not stopping to argue, the paradoxical nature of The Doctor's suddenly advocating firearms paling in comparison to the fierce solemnity of his request, of his wrath, Jack took the guns: "Everybody lives."

And Jack glanced into the sky, taking one step, then two, and then stopping as he saw the beasts that were pouring down on them like a Biblical horde of locusts.

"Doctor--" --a lightning bolt sizzled by Harkness' ear, and he didn't even flinch, he was too enraptured and horrified by what he saw.

Reapers.

Hundreds of them.

The Doctor screamed at him, at everyone, at the top of his powerful lungs: "I'll hold them off!"

"RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!"

 

[Varshanka]

Commander A'Lex

Looking up, A’Lex spotted the creatures. And after listening to Captain Vi’s commands, she grabbed his shirt front and pulled, hauling him along. One handed she aimed and fired at the creatures. The first blast shredding one in a rupturing explosion of sinew, bone, and pulped flesh.

“Protocol, Captain,” she said, thrusting him ahead of her, towards the caves. “Never surrender, never step back.” Pumping the weapon with a jerk of her arm, she fired again, the discharge ripping a wing off another. Spiraling into the ground it flapped around, angrily tearing up the sand as it screamed it’s rage.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ten. Doctor's Orders.

Looking up, A’Lex spotted the creatures. And after listening to Captain Vi’s commands, she grabbed his shirt front and pulled, hauling him along.

"What?" The Doctor sputtered, grabbing at her hand, it was like a vise, so much stronger than a human's... "No, no, nonononono! Just stop! Just listen to me!"

One handed she aimed and fired at the creatures. The first blast shredding one in a rupturing explosion of sinew, bone, and pulped flesh.

The Doctor grimaced, The Doctor shook his head in incredulity-- "No, stop, you'll just make them angrier and there's not enough charges left in that gun for you to Linda Hamilton them all-- beautiful pointed ears, thousands of years of breeding your species for strength and you have such fantastic hearing why don't you listen?"

“Protocol, Captain,” she said, thrusting him ahead of her, towards the caves. “Never surrender, never step back.” Pumping the weapon with a jerk of her arm, she fired again, the discharge ripping a wing off another. Spiraling into the ground it flapped around, angrily tearing up the sand as it screamed it’s rage.

"'Protocol?'" he sputtered, stumbling back as she shoved him. "'Protocol?'"

He ducked, a flare of lightning shattering the air above his head, he juked to the side, a scythe-bladed tail ripped a gully in the sand.

"That's not 'protocol,' that's bloody-- Galaxy Quest!"

He staggered backwards, dodging the wingtip of the wounded Reaper as it flailed.

"You want protocol?" he fumed, staring at the sky, more were coming, lightning punching a shattered-glass crater in the ground behind him, "I'll do you one better! Doctrine!"

Another scythe-tail came at him and he drew a machete from-- somewhere-- and he parried the tail with the blade except the blade sundered with a shriek...

"'The needs of the many,'" he snarled, throwing down the blade handle, "'outweigh the needs of the few,' or 'the one.'"

And his right hand, his fighting hand, it lashed out, it flashed out, it grabbed her uniform collar and he hauled her for a change, hauled her past him and as he flung her ahead of him towards the sandstone edifice he flung up a palm--

--a vermilion bolt crackled down from the sky and he caught it on the palm of his hand and he screamed, he screamed in agony, like getting battered with solar-flare lightning atop The Empire State Building, conducting it through him--

--but he was a Time Lord, no ordinary creature, his species was ancient and intelligent and they knew tricks, so many tricks, Vulcans weren't the only ones who'd spent their pre-Unified days breeding for strength. He'd played with Roentgen blocks in the nursery, he could redirect radiation through his left foot and look daft with one shoe, barefoot on The Moon--

--the energy screamed through his nervous system and his voice screamed in concert but as the bolt dove into him and ran helter-skelter for the ground he gritted his teeth and flung up his other hand and the bolt flared out from his fingertips, sprawling in a five-pointed saffron star from his fingers and thumb and five Reapers screamed and banked away from the guttering, murderous energy.

Another bolt stabbed into The Doctor, this one scarlet, as though the storm had gotten a taste for him now, as though he had whetted its appetite, and again, staggering under the force and the pain of it, he flung out a hand and sprayed the energy out at the encroaching Reapers, driving a fistful of them back.

"You will listen to me," he snarled, hissing and sparking with power, his body buffeted internally by the energies he was conducting, not even bothering to look back at her, now, "and you will protect the many, and you will run!"

A crimson bolt skewered The Doctor in the chest, right between the hearts-- "NYYARRGH!" --and he staggered and nearly fell to one knee but up, up, he forced himself up and both hands now cut loose with Roman Candle, Guy Fawkes streamers and two more Reapers banked away and thought twice before claiming such prey.

"Go!"

 

[Varshanka]

"Go!"

Stumbling from the Captain’s throw, he’d never ever grabbed her before and as strange as it had been for him to do it, she’d felt a flush to her face. The tips of her ears had to be glowing from the heat. “Doctrine! Needs of the Many out weight the needs of the few or the one? You have some strange concepts. The needs of the one outweights the needs of the many, Captain Vi’.”

Turning she looked at him, the last man to put a man on her forcefully was dead now, as for the Captain. She’d let him life, as for the flying creatures, they might get her the next promotion. Not that Starfleet had ever allowed a non-human to Command a starship, and most likely never would.

Firing at a swooping Reaper she didn’t aim for the head or body. Instead she aimed at the Coccygeal vertebrae, blowing the tail section of the creature off, and severely impairing it’s capability to instantly adapt to alteration of direction. Grasping the still twitching tail, A’Lex swung the severed appendage like a flail, removing the head of a Reaper even as her follow-thru sliced off another tail.

Collecting the second tail, The Vulcan ran, her promotion would be soon, even with the botched suicidal attack of Hoshi’s to kill Admiral Adama.

 

[Varshanka]

A'Lex - Back Post

Moving through the underbrush with the Death Squad A'Lex was nimble and silent, while the troopers with her crashed and bulldozed their way forwards. The path they followed had overgrown in the past few days, but then everything on this planet overgrew. It was as if the planet itself resisted civilization and structure.

Their objective was using that to it’s advantage, running as fast as it’s feet could carry it. Looking over she spotted the Squad Sergeant, his helmet concealed his features, but it was adapted with a series of scanners that enabled him to track the prey. And track it they were. “Distance?” she asked, leaping over a fallen tree trunk.

“Five hundred meters and closing, Sir.” The Sergeant growled through the comm channel.

“Anyone else in the region?”

“Negative.”

“Good, proceed with caution, remember, Capture. No disintegrations. Or I’ll administer your pain sessions myself. Command requires the target alive.”

Brushing a branch out of the way A'Lex froze, the creature ahead of her was one of the nastier creatures of the planet. Multi-limbed, sharp fanged, with a drooling venom coating it’s limbs. A venom that would paralyze her and allow the creature to feed upon her still warm body.

Jerking backwards, she twisted around a mammoth tree trunk, pulling up her own weapon and engaging the highest setting possible, the claws of the creature ripped bark and sap from the living wood as she snapped to the side.

The weapon discharged and a chunk of the tree that was saving her life exploded, needle sharp fleshette rounds peppering the snarling and snapping beast.

A droplet of foul spittle landed on her leg, and she knew it would seep through her clothing and within minutes she’d be slowing down as it filtered into her blood stream. She had to end this fight know, or she’d be half eaten by the time the squad got to her location. If they even bothered. As a non-Human, they probably wouldn’t.

The weapon barked again blasting the snarling creatures right forelimb off, and throwing off it’s leap. Scrambling for purchase on the rapidly disintegrating tree A'Lex lifted and aimed, not that she had a lot of time or space for either, and with a snapping scream if energy the ravaging beast was blown sideways.
The Death Squads scout’s weapon spitting blast after blast into the creature, spraying bits of blood and bone everywhere. The creature turned to attack the new food source, and was pulped by the rest of the squads weapons.

Already feeling the slowing effects of the venom, A'Lex couldn’t move fast enough to avoid the splatter venom, blood, and flesh piercing bone shards. Staggering she felt the world shift and blur. Unable to halt, slow, impede her movement she fell, impacting the ground, hard twigs and rocks pressing against and puncturing her flesh. Green blood seeping from wounds. Her body looked devoid of life even as her heartbeat slowed, but she realized the venom was worse than imagined. She could feel EVERYTHING. The soft grass caressing her skin, the gentle breeze of a draft blowing across her face. The thud of the squad as they closed in around her. And she could do anything. She could feel, but not move. She couldn’t even close her eyes as the squad surrounded her.

“So, what do we do with her now?” One of them asked the Sergeant.

“Options are. We kill her. Take her with us. Or fuck her to death and leave her for the forest to have lunch. Vo..” he was saying as the shell from a weapon entered the back of his head, his helmet face plate ripping forward as his face exploded.

Lowering it’s weapon the scout turned and faced the rest of the squad. “Any questions?” The gruff and snarling voice asked across the comm. Channel.

“Negative.” Came several replies.

“Carry her.”