Doctor Who - Between a rock and a dead place

1)

“Space is impossibly large, Emily, far larger than ever you could imagine.”

A falling metallic being, a mere pinprick amongst the vastness of space, seemingly inert but waiting; patience, like love, an alien concept to it for it simply waits.

“I say this.” The Doctor continued, “If you were to let out the loudest shout, even if you could make it as loud as the loudest firework, it would mean nothing amongst the depth of space.”

It has waited for days.. weeks –in actuality these measurements mean nothing to it for it shut down all non-vital processes and was now simply floating. Then change: its beacon finally answered and a response picked up. It won’t be long.

“The chances of being heard in space are literally billions to one. It’s similar to the way you receive messages from Spirit; you receive them and act as a focal point; but without that conduit they go unheard: lost to eternity.”

Something didn’t compute: there were two returning echoes. One was expected, a slightly different frequency but still within the relevant wavelength; but then another: barely recognisable, but familiar nonetheless. There were two Cyberfleets.

It still amazed Emily how easily she had fallen into a routine within the TARDIS. True, there was no daylight or night-time, but the TARDIS simulated dusk and night in her chamber, and the Doctor had found an architectural configuration that suited her. “Even though the external chameleon effect doesn’t work; it’s nice to find that I can still change what it looks on the inside.”

Emily just nodded, she knew that often she was used as a sounding board to the Doctors more random thoughts and he had actually admitted as such. “Far better than talking to myself… I used to do that a lot and would actually get into arguments.”

“With yourself…”

“Unfortunately.”

“WelI, I suppose there’s no point in asking who won.” What amazed her the most were the clothes she had chosen. Her era was so fixed with its views on how a woman should look and act and behave that she often felt so constricted. Her every act and thought had to be constantly checked and double checked before being voiced. To come out in her truth would have meant imprisonment or worse. The Doctor accepted her (he actually seemed relieved) and encouraged her to experiment with clothes until she found a mix that was quintessentially hers.

She looked through the TARDIS databanks at various fashion trends until she found a mix between Victorian elegance and 20^th Century kitsch.  The Doctor applauded her choice and likened it to what he called the Steam Punk movement.  After showing her further examples she knew that she’d found an identity that suited her and she wanted to know more about the movement.

“Well; I’ve got a couple of choices for you…” The Doctor explained. “One is the planet Dellapron, during their industrial revolution. Their fashion sense is extraordinary, very vivid colours with a completely different sensibility to what you’re used to. Their eyes are based more on the ultra-violet end of the spectrum so you can imagine how that would look…” A blank stare from Emily made him move to his next choice. “Or, as a different kind of treat, how about I take you to a Steam Punk festival in Eastbourne, circa 2017? How about that? You’ll see how Earth looks 100 years into your future. Would you like that?”

Emily smiled and clapped her hands in delight. Despite there being a very strong independent streak in her, Emily equally possessed a wild eyed innocence that the Doctor found captivating. Out of all the species he’d encountered none were more varied than humans; so basic and uninspiring on the surface, but after almost 2000 years they still inspired and surprised him.

He set the controls for Eastbourne, 20^th July 2017, and stood back to watch the steering column rise and fall. He’d reverted to the cream coloured roundel effect for the console room. It was smaller but lighter –more homely. He’d gone through his existential angst ridden industrial heart attack stage and now just wanted to roam the galaxy again. He smiled to himself and then promptly kicked the console when the column suddenly froze and then started flashing.

“Well that didn’t go according to plan….” He muttered and tried adjusting the flight matrices.

“What’s wrong, Doctor?”

“We seem to be stacked into another flight path; something else has taken control of the TARDIS and that shouldn’t be possible.” He knew he couldn’t fight  it, he was no longer in control and until he knew what was going on there was no point in doing anything that could cause irrevocable damage. “Sometimes inaction is action itself.” as his old mentor, K’anpo, used to say –just before whacking him on the back of the head with whatever was available.

The Doctor turned on the scanner to see if he could discern where they were. The sight that met his eyes was totally unparalleled and filled him with shock and horror.

“Oh my God.”

“What is it, Doctor? What are we looking at?”

“Imagine two massive fleets of ships; fighting ships, all of them. Think of the worst naval battles in your history and multiply that by a factor of 100,000. What you are looking at is not one, but two completely disparate fleets of Cyberman battle cruisers. But, by rights, neither should exist in their current configurations… both are.. wrong.”

All over, ships hung motionless in the vacuum; great fires raged in some, others simply lie inert; no lights blinking. The rest stayed locked in a typical Cyberfleet formation: the Hammerhead. It seemed as if the battle had already been won; but what had happened?

Suddenly the materialisation circuits engaged and the Doctor was, once again, powerless to stop it from happening. He could only feel dread and anticipation and feared for what Emily was going to encounter.

They landed smoothly and the Doctor was surprised to realise that he even lacked the control to the doors for they opened without a pause.

“I suppose we have no choice but to go outside.” Emily said with more strength than she felt. It was obvious to her that the Doctor was concerned, even though he hid it as best he could. He couldn’t help having a leaky consciousness, after all.

“Stay by me at all times, Emily. I have no idea what’s going to happen.”

They walked out into a vast control room; featureless and hollow, it was populated by numerous beings the likes of which she had never encountered in even her darkest nightmares. They were so human looking it was uncanny; but their skin was covered by a sheen of silver, except for their hands which was pale flesh-tone; this incongruity made it seem even more horrifying. Their heads had a metal frame work that led up to a single point, like a beacon. All were oblivious to their presence until one turned round; its featureless face simply black holes where its eyes and mouth should have been, cloth covered the rest like a funeral shroud.

“We have been expecting you, Doctor, for this is our final strike.”

2)

“Well, you’re the last… incarnation I expected to see again.” The Doctor said with much more bravado than he currently felt. In all the times he’d met the Cybermen they had never been as vicious as their first encounter. Each subsequent time they had appeared more machine-like, robotic; it was far easier to distance himself from thinking of them as a living being. There was something far more chilling to see them as they were now –a race that had surrendered its.. humanity to become cybernetic monsters.

“How can anyone understand our superior mind? Even as a Timelord you have always underestimated our might.”

“Underestimated! And yet I’ve always managed to defeat you. Not bad for a puny Timelord!”

“Always? You think too small, Doctor. You have only ever won the individual battles but have you ever truly seen the war? What about all those battles you never even witnessed?”

“I’ll say one thing for you; you’ve still managed to keep a sense of humour.”

“What’s that got to do anything, Doctor?” Emily asked. She was frightened beyond belief; never had she encountered anything so horrible.. so alien. Thanks to the Doctor she had visited a few alien worlds and met their inhabitants and, even though they were so bizarre and miraculous, they weren’t frightening. They were just a different species and as varied as the animals that she shared the Earth with. But these Cybermen were something other.

“Remember, they have no emotions, Emily…”

“But Doctor…” But the Cyberleader interrupted her.

“You know the game YanGhaste, I expect?”

“Yes.. Earth has an equivalent called Chess. I’ve always been most fond of chess.”

“Earth… yes, we shall talk about that soon. But tell me, in this… chess, there are smaller, less valuable pieces.. all alike, like drones?”

“Pawns.. they’re called pawns.” Emily interjected, not liking the sound of this.

“And these may occasionally be sacrificed?” The enormity of what he had just heard sunk into the Doctor.

“But how can you know of such a term as sacrifice?”

“It is a word, just like any other.”

“Yes, but there is more than just logic behind it; it requires an emotional core.”

“Doctor…” Emily tried to interrupt him, but he was too caught up again.

“Lateral thinking and an understanding that goes beyond your cold, heartless logic.”

“Doctor!”

“What, Emily?”

“They don’t sound so unemotional to me…” The final penny dropped; the Doctor looked at Emily and then at the Cybercontroller.

“Say something… say something damn you.”

“Really, Doctor, these emotional outbursts do not become you. In all your regenerations you never seem to learn anything. Or evolve.”

“Something’s wrong. I should have noticed it sooner. Your voice…. It’s inflexions are normal; you no longer sound like a pubescent robot; it’s modulated. Very subtle, but there are emotional inflexions… but that shouldn’t be possible! Not only is it incongruous with your appearance but you shouldn’t be able to feel at all!”

“Another example of how you have constantly underestimated Cyber-technology. Do you really think that you have been witnessing an evolution? You judge our advancement only by your own standards; you think we have evolved to distance ourselves from our own form? What would be the benefit of that? All we have done is out of necessity, nothing more.”

“How could I have been so wrong? That’s the trouble with time travel, I suppose.” The Doctor stopped, something else had just occurred to him.

“Now you understand. You think that time travel was open to only yourselves and the Daleks? Who do you think leaked that technology to the Daleks? Everything that we have done has formed part of a multi-dimensional plan. The Timelord’s seem unable to think four-dimensionally and still see things in terms of cause and effect, hence why you still see yourselves as mere observers. The Daleks are simply stimulus and response machines, but we have seeded our fleet across time as well as space. All see themselves as the pinnacle of Cybertechnology and yet all are linked through the central control programming.”

“What’s going on, Doctor? I don’t understand.”

“It’s almost too horrible to contemplate, but brilliant in the extreme. Imagine a doll being created in a factory; and with each new batch a new improvement is made. Imagine a warehouse where all the dolls are kept until the perfect model is created and then, somehow, each batch is released. Not just in space, but in time as well; each whole but part of the batch and linked up to the core.”

“That’s unbelievable, Doctor… but?”

“And you are the perfect model?” The Doctor asked the Cybercontroller.

“Hardly Doctor. But, we are close. When we first encased ourselves in metal we had to destroy our emotions; dampen them otherwise we would never have survived.”

“How horrible.” Emily  replied, “to be encased in metal your whole life; never knowing love, warmth or human contact ever again.”

“Your companion does you credit, Doctor. Thousands of the first Cybermen died through suicide or on homicidal killing sprees rather than accept their fate. Initially we were fully encased with machine packs handling our breathing with plasticised armour; anything that made ourselves look ‘other’ or alien to our original forms. Then with each new improvement we not only understood our physiology but used nano-technology to replicate our bodies natural functions. We created super-hard skin that could withstand the harshest of environments; we then started to introduce emotions back into our control programmes. When you first saw us on Earth, in the polar ice-station, it was the first time we had truly spoken using our own bio-engineered larynxes so we weren’t used to modulating our speech.”

“That explains a lot.” The Doctor replied. “But it doesn’t explain why I’ve been brought here today.”

“We want you to bear witness to a turning point. We have long since been aware of a rogue cadre of Cybermen that stem from an alternate dimension. We ignored them –they created a useful distraction for you and they seemed unaware of our presence. We picked up a distress call from one of our own brethren thought lost to us some decades ago. The call was also picked up from this rogue cadre. Not only were they unaware of our existence they saw us as impure aliens and tried to eliminate us.”

“What have you done?”

“Nothing … yet. Little did they know that we were able to hack into their command circuits and effectively deactivate them. They still live but are in hibernation mode. Imagine if all wars were this bloodless.” Suddenly the Doctor and Emily could see all the ships lying dormant in space on vast screens in front of them.

“What now?”

“In many ways we have you to thank for this situation, so it is only right that you should witness this.” The Cybercontroller slammed his hands together, a gesture that was obscene in its familiarity, but with the clap came the sight of all those ships; each with thousands of Cybermen; explode in voluminous fireballs; silently disintegrating –the end of a species.

3)

“No! You had no right; they were human once!”

“As we were; but that never stopped you from trying to destroy us.”

“But you were always trying to destroy others first.” The Doctor argued.

“Yet you always champion humanity.” The Cybercontroller pointed at Emily. “Are humans so guiltless? Have you known many species to lay waste to its own planet, the animals it shares the planet with; why, its own species? You know how it all ends, and yet you still champion them.”

“No – you can’t twist things like that. Humanity still strives, it just needs to be guided.”

“Now it will never get the chance. With your help we will invade Earth; they will be unable to withstand our might. And what is more, you and your companion will help us. She is to be the missing link on our.. emotional journey.”

“I most certainly will not!” Emily snapped.

“Ah, but you will. What is more, you will do it by your own free will.”

“I’d rather die first.”

“That will not happen. We would kill the Doctor first; this time he is expendable.”

“What?! Outrageous! Why am I expendable?”

“You would fight us and find a way to defeat us if we hooked you up to the main frame; your companion would not.”

“I still won’t help you; you may as well kill him.” The Doctor looked at her aghast.

“Steady on, Emily!”

“She has grasped what you have not. She will do this of her own free will; with you dead there would be no hope for her; she would no longer be a viable template.” The Cybercontroller explained.

“Ah; now I see.” The Doctor acknowledged. “You need her to join voluntarily otherwise her emotional template would be squint and so your next batch of Cybermen would be emotionally wonky.”

“Yes… and this she shall do; we have seen it.”

“What did you say?” The Doctor said. “Doesn’t matter… what if we refuse?”

“You will be free to go, but you won’t get far.”

“We’ll see about that .” Strangely, the Cybermen were as good as their word, the Doctor and Emily were allowed to return to the TARDIS unmolested.

When they were safely inside the Doctor just looked at the console.

“What’s wrong?” Emily asked. “They…let us go. I don’t understand why. Are they so sure we’ll return?”

“They’ve seen it.. and I’m not entirely sure what they mean. Not even the Timelord’s have that ability.. yet.” He flicked a few switches and the time column breathed into life.

“What are you doing now?”

“Testing a hypothesis.”

“Be cryptic then.”

Suddenly the Doctor flicked another series of switches and the TARDIS banked hard throwing Emily off balance.

“Why the sudden change of course? She didn’t like it, I can tell you.”

“How? Oh yes, the psychic rapport, I forgot… Sorry, Old Girl.”

“Doctor; you know she….”

“Deal with it, dear… Now is not the time for me to change.” The TARDIS materialised in a huff and the Doctor opened the doors, patting the console gratefully, only to find Cybermen waiting for him, guns drawn and the Cybercontroller facing him.

“It would be churlish of me to say that you were expected, Doctor.”

“Yeah? Well, expect this.” He slammed the door release button and immediately dematerialised again. “Interesting… just as I thought.”

For the next hour they travelled from time period to planet, and at every stop the Cybermen were waiting there to greet them.

On the seventh rapid escape Emily slammed her hand down on the console. “Doctor; will you please tell me what is going on?!”

“Yes, Doctor –she has a right to know.” The voice of the Cybercontroller took her completely by surprise, but the Doctor appeared smug.

“I wondered when you’d actually chip in like that. Let me guess, you’ve got a bug in the console room? So you’ve been monitoring pretty much everything I’ve been doing in the TARDIS.” Emily was shocked by this; she’d thought of the TARDIS as being safe, but that was no longer the case.

“You’re quite perceptive, Doctor, but it’s the only logical conclusion.”

“That’s still going to be your downfall; logic.”

“Not for long, not when you help us.” The Doctor looked at Emily and winked at her. He placed a hand in his pocket and found the beeper he prayed he’d never need to use and pressed the button in the centre of it.

Across the great divide of space, a beacon started beeping, which in turn, released a message. A rather unique message consisting of one bit; one word that would mean absolutely nothing except to the one whom it was meant for. The word was “NOW” and circumstances had changed quite dramatically since they had last met. For the Doctor, it would mean stepping from the fire through the very gates of hell.

4)

Emily was beside herself with what was happening; it was bad enough that the Cybermen had managed to outmanoeuvre the Doctor, but there must be a way to defeat them; there was always a way, surely? Her mother had taught her that: never rely on anyone else, had been her mother’s other piece of advice. But here was the Doctor giving up, almost happily.

As they left the TARDIS he mouthed two simple words to her: “Trust me.” She picked  up on his sincerity but was still perplexed by what was going on.  Together they walked into the very heart of the Cyberman command where the Cybercontroller waited for them.

“And so you are both here of your own volition?”  

“Yes; though confused about what happens next…” Emily replied.

“You have been afforded a great honour, to become part of the Cybernexus; the glue that binds us together. Through you we will be able to feel again; to be whole again, and with the Doctor we will be absolute masters of time!”
“And you’re just going to let them?” Emily snapped at the Doctor.

“It is inevitable.” The Cybercontroller replied.

“Who am I to argue with the inevitable? Besides… they have seen it, remember?” The Doctor added. Suddenly Emily understood and knew what she had to do.

“Will it hurt?”

“I won’t lie to you, Emily.” The Doctor tried to console her. God, she was so brave; so out of her depth but her strength of character was unequalled. “It will hurt like the Dickens, but it won’t be for long.”  Emily nodded and allowed herself to be attached to the Cybernexus, as was the Doctor.

“You both stand at the threshold of immortality.” The Cybercontroller said as he worked the console.

Outside, in the depths of space, a thousand ships suddenly blinked into being. Completely spherical, these were Sontaran battle cruisers, and at the helm one Commander Skrakz, who’s mission was two-fold: repay a debt to the Doctor and eliminate the Cyberfleet. The former was simply a matter of honour; the latter had a perverse sense of fun; especially in light of certain developments.

Emily screamed despite herself. She loathed the penny dreadful’s where the heroine screamed at the slightest provocation; but this was unlike any pain she had ever experienced. Every nerve, every pore of her skin felt as if it had been drenched in acid and then shredded. Throughout it all she felt the Doctors presence, almost surrounding her; taking the brunt of the pain himself –but how she knew this was beyond her. She felt it; could actually see it. Just as she could see the Cybernexus as an energy field which she could now manipulate.

This had been the Doctors plan all along; ever since the Cybercontroller had “seen” the Doctor returning. It had been due to their combining with the nexus and altering it, not as the Cybermen wanted but in specific ways in which the Doctor would guide.

The Cybermen had a lot to deal with too, having been taken completely by surprise by the sudden attack by the Sontaran’s. There weren’t many species that the Cybermen refused to engage unless absolutely necessarily:  The Daleks, because of their bloodthirsty madness; the Raston’s because of their sheer efficiency and the Sontaran’s, they were built for one thing only: war.

So the fact that the Sontaran’s were now attacking now was bad enough, but for some reason they just would not die, no matter how hard the Cybermen tried –and they tried very hard indeed!

The Doctor knew he only had one chance at this. Emily was proving to be invaluable and he was amazed by her sheer power and resilience, but even she had limits.

He had to introduce a fraction of Emily’s psyche into a very small part of the sub-routine of the Cybernexus. It was insanely delicate and had he not been armoured with the fact that he had already succeeded he would surely have given up.

The Cybercontroller was right when he said that being a time traveller put a new perspective on the universe, but he was wrong when he said that the Timelord’s never used it. It was a choice they had.. well, originally, but it made things almost impossible to deal with. Imagine living with the consequences of every decision you’re ever going to make even before you realise you’ve made one. Most of the Timelord’s couldn’t handle it.

Skrakz left his detachment to fulfil his debt of honour. Yet again he had mixed feelings. He hated being beholden to the Doctor, but at the same time he had been given the chance to destroy the entire Cyberfleet. It didn’t get much better than that!

The other thing that the Doctor wanted to do was prevent the Cybermen from having access to the time-stream anymore. He was shocked at how they’d managed to stay hidden for so long. The Daleks had waged an all out war and nearly destroyed the entire multiverse; the Cybermen weren’t that impulsive.

There was only one way for him to prevent them from using time travel again… well, two. The first entailed eliminating the ability to understand the concepts of time travel, the same way the Timelord’s had exiled the Doctor to Earth; and the other by not allowing the Cybermen the ability to cross over their own time-stream. This, in effect, meant that no generation of Cybermen could interact with any other generation of Cybermen. They would no longer have the remote pick-up either, or cybernetic telepathy that the Cybercontroller had boasted of.

Now, if only he could erase Emily’s thought patterns from the databanks… he might have enough time…

A shaft of pain, a shriek from Emily as consciousness was stabbed back into them.

“Never.. NEVER disconnect someone from a mainframe of a computer like that!” He shouted as he regained his composure.

“Come now, Doctor.” Came a familiar voice as the toad-like face of Commander Skrakz came into focus. “That’s no way to greet someone who just rescued you…. We’re even now; unfortunately for you.”

5)

“You summoned me, Doctor, and I responded; we are now equal.” Commander Skrakz said as he unstrapped the Doctor and Emily from the Cybernexus.

“And I’m grateful.”

“You won’t be for long.”

“Wait; where are all the Cybermen?” Emily asked, she was suddenly aware of how quiet it was.

“Impossible.” The Doctor remarked. “There’s no way the Sontaran army could wipe out the entire Cyberfleet; even on a good day!”

“I’ll ignore that childish remark, especially when we have you to thank for this change of circumstances; or rather, your TARDIS.”

“Oh no..” The Doctor suddenly understood the enormity of what had transpired.

“What is it, Doctor?” Emily asked.

“Both Skrakz and a Cyberman were trapped in the TARDIS for a prolonged amount of time and they were pretty close to its heart; somehow they absorbed some of the energy. They’re effectively immortal and impossible to kill now.”

“So what happened to the Cyberman then?”

“Yes.. what indeed?” The Doctor replied, but before Skrakz had a chance to answer a cadre of Sontaran’s stormed into the control room.

“We are here to take the Doctor back to Sontar.” One of the more officious Sontaran’s snapped.

“We’ll take his TARDIS.” Skrakz snapped back.

“Unlikely; what’s to stop him from escaping?”

“If he tries then I’ll snap his companion’s neck; he has emotional attachments to her.” Skrakz suddenly snatched Emily and held her tightly by the throat.

“Good… Good! We were starting to have doubts about you, Skrakz; but it’s good to see your bloodthirsty side is still there. See you back on Sontar!”

Skrakz saluted and pushed the Doctor into the TARDIS whilst keeping hold of Emily’s neck. The Doctor obliged begrudgingly, trying to figure out what was happening.  When the door closed Skrakz immediately let go of Emily. She rushed over to the Doctor whilst Skrakz apologised.

“That was as distasteful to me as it was to you.”

“I doubt it.” Emily replied.

“Wait; don’t you see, Emily? This is unheard of for a Sontaran; to acknowledge the feelings of another species, let alone apologise!”

“I blame your TARDIS, Doctor.”

“Quite… so you came out immortal…. And then, when your fellow Sontaran’s realised, they saw the inherent advantages.”

“No before testing it in every conceivable way.”

“Good old Sontaran efficiency, eh? Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth!”

“How many times do you think you can die? Ten? Twenty? Two hundred? Try two thousand! It’s a wonder my mind hasn’t snapped… maybe it has.”

“So then they introduced your genetic make-up back into the birthing matrix chambers?”

“I don’t understand what you mean by birthing chambers?”

“Sontaran’s are carbon copies of each other, Emily –or near as damnit. Almost genetically identical to one another; born in batches of thousands at a time. Only the strongest characteristics survive to be added into the matrix and I expect that invulnerability proved too good to pass up, eh?”

“Alas.”

“I thought you said that Sontaran’s lived for war, Doctor?”

“Battle, Emily – not war.” Skrakz replied.

“Battle? Oh.. being unkillable means that the battle is one-sided.”

“That is correct. Where is the fun in that? No excitement!”

“I’ve known too many men like that… even where I came from; the big game hunters.”

“Hunting..” Skrakz sighed. “That takes me back. We have lost so much by this; honour has been lost to us; which is why I sought you out.”

“You… sought me out?” The Doctor was perturbed.

“I knew you would call on me; it was inevitable. It was the only way that I could talk to you like this; without raising suspicion, I mean. I’m taking you to Sontar where you will be rewarded for handing us a perfect victory.”

“I’m not sure I can accept such an honour.”

“And then you’ll be taken to the Flesh Farms where we will absorb you into our Birthing Matrix and maybe we can learn the secrets of time as well.”

“I won’t allow it. You can not let it happen; its monstrous. You’ll be truly unstoppable then!”

“Yes; you’re right, of course. And you are not alone in your thoughts. There is dissent even amongst the Sontaran high ranks; with some such as myself who wish we had never taken on this power. We are no longer a race of warriors but honourless butchers. We need to learn what it means to lose again; and with your help that can happen. But you have to trust me. Can you? Can you do such a thing?”

“You mean put my life in your hands?

The TARDIS materialised perfectly on the rostrum in the High Hall, on all sides and above and below, were thousands of Sontaran’s all with one purpose.

The door opened and when the Doctor stepped out he was deafened by the roar of: “Sontar HA! Sontar HA! Doctor HA! Doctor HA!”

This was turning out to be the most surreal of days.

“Doctor; you, who have been one of our greatest enemies.” The Commander-in-chief of the Sontaran’s shouted as he greeted the Doctor, “you are our saviour and ultimate benefactor. We salute you!” Again came the roar of Sontar HA! But there was one Sontaran in the front row who was not cheering. His gaze was set, hatred filled his eyes; now was his moment.

Just as the applause had died down he raised his weapon, screaming: “Defiler of our race! Honour thief!” He fired, hitting the Doctor in the chest three times. Emily gasped, she couldn’t believe what was happening.

The assassin never stood a chance, he was set upon by all around him, but it was too late. The Commander-in-Chief knelt at the Doctor’s side as the steam from the blast rose form his body. He placed his stubby finger to the Doctors throat and then felt his wrist before shaking his head.

“It’s too late… He’s dead; our saviour is dead.”

6)

For Emily the next ten minutes were numbed horror; the Doctor, her friend, the one who she had shared so much with already, was dead. The enormity of this had not even begun to permeate down to her; she was trapped, isolated: over a million miles and god knows how many centuries removed from anything she could call home. No, her thoughts were with this strange, brilliant man –an enigma, cut down in the prime of his life. Such a waste.

From the time he was shot the Sontaran’s had shown nothing but tact and expediency. The assassin had been dealt with but what no one could understand was how such a thing could have happened: security had been so tightly controlled. Up until a few moments ago the only war the Sontaran’s had known was that which they inflicted on others; now there was civil unrest, a hard-core that saw the latest improvements to the genetic matrix as obscene. By becoming both immortal and invulnerable they saw the Sontaran high-command as selling out the old ways of honour and combat.

Emily cared nothing for any of that. She had been treated surprisingly well by the Sontaran’s, who had nothing but respect for her and the Doctor’s body. They transported him so rapidly to the special ante-room and left her alone with him. They understood her need to mourn.

The Doctor looked so still; so hard to believe that it was the same man who…

“I do hate energy weapons! They leave ones nerves quite frazzled for hours afterwards.” The Doctor suddenly sat up, scaring Emily rigid. She spun around and hit him out of reflex. “Ow! Not exactly the sort of welcome I was expecting… I thought you’d be pleased to see me!”

“Oh Doctor.” Emil gasped and flung her arms around him.

“That’s more like it, old girl.” She suddenly punched him in the arm, and then again.

“That’s for making me jump. That’s for calling me Old Girl and that..” She punched him again. “Is for dying in the first place.”

“Now I’m sure that’s not how a Victorian lady is supposed to behave.”

“Do you want me to hit you again?” The Doctor shook his head. “What happened? I saw you shot and killed.”

“You saw me shot; but I had a feeling something like that was going to happen.”

“When Skrakz asked you to trust him?”

“Yes; but there was no way for me to tell you. I’m so sorry, I would have done anything to spare you that.”

“I suppose it made it all the more believable.”

“You both played your parts admirably. I thank you.” Emily was surprised to see the Controller-in-Chief walk in, surely he wasn’t in on it all as well? But then it was he who had inspected the Doctor’s body and rushed them away before anyone could double check his diagnosis.

“I’m afraid we don’t have much time. You must help us, Doctor. Help us eliminate this evolutionary dead end. For this could quite easily mean the end of the Sontaran race as we know it.”

Emily looked puzzled and then understood. “You mean that no one else has realised that there’s no more need for the birthing matrices?”

“No one has questioned why there has been no attempts to spawn since the travesty happened. Everyone is still caught up in the bloodlust and battle frenzy to look at what we’ve lost.”

“So what do you intend to do? What can we do?”

“Doctor? You are the only one that can help us. As much as it pains us to admit the need for any outside agency, will you?”

The Doctor looked away and walked around before finally turning, smiling. “This is one of the few times where the answer really is cut and dried. I mean, if not stopped there would be nothing to halt your armies progress until the whole universe is subjugated.”

“So what is your plan?” The Sontaran asked.

“Two-fold: the first part revolves around disrupting the birthing matrix; almost doing a complete system restore; the second means dealing with an almost unconquerable foe.”

Skrakz clapped the Doctor on the back and said: “So you can help us?”

“Oh yes.”

“But what about destroying those indestructible troops? Should that be our main priority?” The Commander-in-Chief interrupted.

“Easy… I’m going to do absolutely nothing.”

“What!” Both Emily and the Commander-in-Chief replied, shocked.

“It turns out that I don’t actually need to do anything. It seems there’s an error in replication –it’s not obvious yet, but it will be soon. And then you will truly have a civil war on your hands.”

“How do you know this to be so?” Skrakz asked.

“What happened to that Cyberman? The one that you fought in the TARDIS all that length of time, Skrakz?”

“I don’t know, Doctor; is it important?”

“Think! Why haven’t we seen it? If it was as invulnerable as you then no amount of firepower could have destroyed it; but it was either killed by its own kind or by one of you!”

“By Sontar! You’re right… So how do we use this to our advantage?”

“You must exacerbate the civil war that’s threatening to over run your planet. With so much unrest and distrust no one will be paying any real attention to what’s going on with the birthing matrices until it’s too late.”

“Brilliant!” shouted the Commander-in-Chief. “you are a worthy foe; and I have a great respect for you. It’s just a shame I’m going to have to kill you properly when this is over.”

The Doctor had thought it would be a number of days before the civil unrest had grown to a stage where they could take advantage of it; but he had forgotten just how much pride the Sontaran’s had. The Commander-in-Chief played a masterful game of political cat and mouse, sewing seeds of distrust and paranoia amongst the high echelons. Aspirations were always high in the military; everyone dreaming of battlefield glory; or at least they were. The coming of the “Blessed” now put pay to that; now only the invulnerable were sent away to fight.

Those of the “Remain” party were given this ray of hope by the Doctor and did everything they could to provoke the Blessed, anything that would force them to use more of their life force; and within 18 hours the first of the blessed were starting to disintegrate.

By this time the Doctor, Emily and Skrakz were in the birthing matrix chamber; which wasn’t even under guard any longer as it was deemed surplus to requirements.

“What next, Doctor?” Skrakz asked, rubbing his hands in anticipation.

“We need to initiate a complete system restore and purge the computers of your template.”

“And how do we do that?”

“Yes, well –I was afraid you were going to ask that… you’re going to have to do it all from within the matrix itself. Nobody else can do it because.. well, they’d die before they even get half-way through.”

“Ah… I see; and it will be painful as well, I expect.”

“Almost unbearable.”

“Good; I would risk all to restore glory and honour to the Sontaran empire.”

“I’m pleased you think that because I’m not entirely sure you’re going to survive either.”

“Even better! You are too generous, Doctor.”

“Are you crazy?” Emily snapped.

“Emily –what could be a greater honour than dying for your people? Are there not people on your planet that would do the same?”

“Yes; but they’re crazy too.”

“Emily.” The Doctor consoled. “If Skrakz doesn’t do this then all will be subjugated; the Sontaran’s won’t stop until the entire universe is under their flag.” Emily relented and watched Skrakz prepare himself. Stepping into the chamber he took one last look at Emily before the Doctor started the system purge.

“He’s scared, Doctor.” Emily said. “That’s not normal at all for him, is it?”

“No, it’s not; his time in the TARDIS changed him, and that might ultimately help us in the long term. What I didn’t tell him is that not only will I be purging the template but I’ll be completely rewriting his genetic template as well.”

“Restoring him as to what he was?”

“As close as I can. To his former glory!”

“And then you’ll use him as the new template.”

“You catch on quick.” Emily smiled and turned to look at Skrakz who was re-wiring the birthing matrix from the Doctor’s instructions. It was obvious that he was in pain, his body was wracked with spasms; but each spasm just made him work harder until, at last, it was over. When Skrakz finally joined them he looked happy.

“Now we must get you back to your TARDIS. The Commander-in-Chief was not joking about having you executed earlier. But I owe you too much now, and it’s the least I can do to get you both to your ship unharmed.”

“But now you’ll be vulnerable yourself!” Emily replied. “You’re now just a Sontaran!”

“Ha! Just a Sontaran; let me show you what just a Sontaran can do!”

On the way back Skrakz was like a child. It was impossible to know who were the Blessed and who were the remainers but Skrakz didn’t seem to care. He was true to his word, his main concern was transporting the Doctor and Emily back to the TARDIS safely and he took advantage of the situation, revelling at every kill.

For Emily it was hell, and she was relieved when they were finally at the TARDIS doors again.

“It will take some time for the unrest to clear, Doctor; but we have much to thank you for. But.. please, do not tell anyone about it.” Skrakz said, and laughed.

“I don’t think the Timelord’s would take very kindly to the idea of me inadvertently creating indestructible Sontaran’s, do you? Your secret is safe with me!”

“Take care of him, Emily; and of yourself.” Skrakz said.

Emily waved goodbye as Skrakz carried on fighting. When they were both inside the TARDIS and it had safely dematerialised she said: “Why didn’t you tell him, Doctor?”

“That he was still immortal? What good would that have done? He can still be killed, just not by old age.”

“And what about the next batch of Sontaran’s? Won’t they be immortal as well?”

“I didn’t think it would be too much of a problem.” The Doctor replied. “Up until recently it was considered unnatural for any Sontaran to be aged over twenty- by their standards. They would have been considered cowards of the highest order for surviving for so long. I think that after the civil war the whole damned race will have a lot to prove!”

Doctor Who - Initiation

Doctor Who, The Sontarans, Cybermen, the TARDIS and Daleks are all copyright of the BBC. This is my homage to the wonderful stories I grew up with and, hopefully, the first of many short stories.

“Well, that didn’t go according to plan.” A strained light greeted the Traveller as he opened his eyes fresh to the new world around him. The same as it ever was, he thought to himself, but it now felt different.. or maybe he felt different.

The lights pulsated with a sickening glow, refracting off the cream walls. There were circular roundels interspersed along the corridor he found himself in, all seemed to be made of a different material to the walls; they have a plastic sheen to them.

As he pushed himself off the ground, which felt surprisingly warm to the touch now –as if it was alive somehow- he could hear a faint tolling of a giant bell. It was a sound that the Traveller recognised; almost as if it was himself that was ringing.

“That’s the Cloister Bell.” He said to himself in a voice that he didn’t recognise. Something bad must have happened for him to change like this, but what?

He’d had bad regenerations before but had always remembered something about the events leading up to it…. There’s that word –regeneration. It sounded wrong but felt right.

Ok, so something bad had happened, and that was probably why the Cloister Bell was ringing and so it stood to reason that the two events were linked. William Occam was a very pragmatic man, but had no head for heights, or women… or drink, for that matter. Actually, he could be a bit of a stick in the mud at times and a bit lazy too, which was probably why he never shaved… Wait… that didn’t make sense. He had met William, but the man he had met was the exact opposite of that; so what was going on?

Something was definitely wrong. He tried focusing his mind and it felt jagged. A sharp splinter of pain stopped him from progressing any further and he opened his eyes again just in time to see the lights fade a little more. This was more serious than he at first thought; he was deep in the TARDIS, deeper than he had ever been before and he knew that he could easily get lost if he took the wrong turning; especially in the shape he was in now. It was entirely possible to wander the corridors for a lifetime and never retrace your steps. But was the alternative really to go deeper?

Commander Skrakz, as well as being a proud warrior of the Sontaran race, had one major ability: to sniff our power; whether the energy stores of a Tyrolian battle cruiser, the fortified generators on the planet A0 or the quasi-mystical artefacts on Rvenworld. On a landing party he was always sent on ahead as an advanced scout and so it stood to reason that when the Sontaran’s invaded Gallifrey and took control of the TARDIS, he was to be the first to find where the T-Mat gun was hidden.

What he didn’t bank on was getting completely lost within the morass of corridors, nor did he expect to be engaged in deadly combat with one of his ancestral enemies: the Cybermen; well, just the one.

He been wandering for an eternity it seemed, and had almost blocked out the sheer monotony; and certainly ceased to pay any attention to his surroundings; and so was caught off-guard completely by the Cyberman’s gun; which, on any normal day, would have killed him outright (probic vent or no) but it didn’t. It did send him flying down the corridor though, yet he managed to roll with the blow and came back with his own gun blazing, taking the Cyberman by surprise.

Shockingly, the blast did no damage to the Cyberman either.

Skrakz got up off the floor and shot him a couple more times for good measure, point blank range. The Cyberman simply stood there and took it before firing back at Skrakz who was too close to duck himself. It hurt, hurt like hell, but it did very little damage to him.

There was only one explanation, they had both been inside the TARDIS for so long that they had been changed by its energies somehow. The logical solution was for them to team up and find a way to escape; but the Cyberman was far too pompous and arrogant to align himself with a lower carbon-based life-form and took another shot at Skrakz for good measure.

That was that, not only did Skrakz need to find a way out but he also had to find a way of killing an indestructible Cyberman. It wasn’t all bad then.

The Traveller had been walking for an age as well. Time had no meaning now, but when had it ever? His had now throbbed in time with the lights, each one exacerbating the other. Even though it seemed as if he was walking in one direction he felt as if he was going down, endlessly deeper. He could hear the slight wheezing-groan of the TARDIS’ circulatory system. He had often kidded Adric that the TARDIS was alive;, a living, feeling organism but he’d never really explored that idea himself, until now. It was like taking a walk inside the darkest parts of his own psyche, which was bad enough for a human (or Alzariun, for that matter) but much worse for a Timelord, especially himself.

Adric! That’s what was missing… there were no companions to bounce ideas off of, procrastinate to… keep him sane. Where was?  Why had she??

He had to remember –it seemed vitally important that he remembered.

Actually, it had all started to go wrong with the Adric. He had run through that episode in his head a thousand ways and there was no way it could have ended any differently. For once the Cybermen had a fool-proof plan: they had manoeuvred him away from Adric and the star cruiser, never realising that Adric possessed the wherewithal to sabotage their plans enough to throw it into a time-warp. The resulting explosion destroyed Adric but paved the way for the beginning of man, poetic in a way.

Death had a way of finding out the Traveller, but this was the first time it had taken someone so close to him. Yes, there were times that Adric had been like a lost puppy and even annoying, but he had been a teenager; very bright, talented.. he should have had an exceptional future, but then he had met the Traveller.

Was that why he had so willingly sacrificed his own life for Peri; an act of contrition for his sins?

It seemed that for all the good he had tried to do there was always bloodshed that surrounded him. How many races had he had a hand in destroying? The Krynoids, The Silurians, The Sea Devils, the Vervoids… That many more would have died if he had not intervened was not an issue… was death drawn to him somehow?

He had grown so sick of fighting that he had become a recluse rather than get involved in the Time War, but even then he had been left with no choice but to intervene. A decision had to be made and, as usual, he was the only one that could make it.

That knowledge haunted him, made him reckless. He over-compensated, his ego reacting to such a degree that the worries of the worlds could no longer get to him. And all through his companions reminded him just how precious life was, how important it was to keep it all in perspective.

But now he was alone again. Very much alone and walking deeper into himself. He knew that there were vast energies this deep in the TARDIS. There was a sect in the history of his people, where they actually bonded with their TARDIS in such a way that they became one; the TARDIS becoming an extension of the Timelord, or was it the other way around?

He had deliberately kept away from the lower levels, fearful of what he would encounter. One had to be ‘clear’ and of one mind to enter congress with the TARDIS and the Doctor had never been of one mind about anything.

Things had gotten so much worse, then, since Adric had died. There was a darkness that had never been apparent to him. He’d seen the worst that the universe could throw at him and he had always returned it with a pithy comeback or putdown. But with Adric dying the stakes had suddenly been raised. This was no longer a game; everything he did had ramifications and he saw the consequences of that as the Valeyard reared his ugly head. The Valeyard, who conspired with his own people to dispose of him! The Valeyard, his own evil coalesced into one being, no remorse and no empathy; more devious and deadly even than the Master.

That was why he kept away from the heart of the TARDIS. It was prophesised that the Valeyard would be born between the 12^th and 13^th regenerations but what if he lied about that as well? The Valeyard knew that the Doctor would do everything in his power to prevent such a thing from happening, so what if it happened now?

Time had a habit of happening regardless of the protestations of even a Timelord.

He knew that there was no way back. The walls had even closed behind now and were closing around him, forcing him to go onwards. The TARDIS wanted him to move forwards. It was time for his initiation.

Skrakz was troubled, there seemed to be no way out; for the countless years that they must have been battling he had no sense of traversing levels. Initially he had walked down stairs and slopes and there had been a sense of depth, but since battling that walking scrap-pile it was like they were walking in circles, but the internal configurations kept changing, which was incredible and unnerving.

No one knew much about the TARDIS; it had been a priority to capture one and study –possibly even reverse engineer one- and it had been one of the reasons behind the initial invasion of Galifrey. The planet itself had no specific military value –their non-interference policy made them weak and decadent; they were no longer warriors. But their time and dimensional craft? What a prize! With ships able to traverse both space AND time the war with the Rutans would be over even before it began!

If the TARDIS was indeed a living organism, as Skrakz was now beginning to believe, then he and the Cyberman were little more than bacteria running through the equivalent of a scab. But how long before the TARDIS tired of the infection and did something of a more permanent nature?

For the Cyberman only one thing mattered: the destruction of the Sontaran. Everything else was secondary. If it meant destroying the TARDIS as well then so be it; it was perfectly logical.

The Valeyard was an inevitability. It had happened, he had happened so it had to happen. He was the Doctor’s responsibility and the Doctor was responsible for him, but this time he had a choice. He refused to allow his darker side to dictate what happened. Too many times had he permitted genocide or chosen death as the final solution, too many people had died as a result of his actions. The Valeyard had been a part of him for far too long, but there was no way he would permit it any more.

He knew that the TARDIS wanted him to push forward –ahead of him was an ornate doorway; a complicated locking mechanism barred his way but he could tell that behind the door was the very heart of the TARDIS, and it would be there that the Valeyard would be born. The Doctor would be free of his dark ways, yes, but at what cost? Since his escape from the Matrix there was no telling what the Valeyard had been up to, what horror’s he had inflicted upon space-time. No, he would not permit it again. This was his time to end it. The TARDIS wanted him to move forward.. well, the Doctor had other plans.

Skrakz kept moving. He didn’t need to sleep, eat or drink; for some reason since being inside the TARDIS he hadn’t needed to at all, and since he knew that the Cyberman didn’t need to either they were at a stalemate. One would wonder why they kept moving as it made more sense to stay in one place and fight, but as both of them were immortal the fight would never end until they both agreed to. And the Cyberman would certainly never agree to that.

The trouble was, Skrakz felt pain. He had been taught to ignore it; it was a pre-requisite of being a Sontaran, and one of the things that made them such great warriors; but over the years they had been fighting Skrakz pain-gate had been torn off its hinges. They had tried shooting it out one time and then tried hand-to-hand combat but even that was futile. Both of them healed at the same rate.

In Skrakz more lucid moment he envisaged the TARDIS as not only being alive but also aware. He and the Cyberman were being taught the futility of war, but that was a futile gesture, it itself,  to a Cyberman, who saw things very logically: kill or be killed.

And it was the same for the Sontarans too; or had been until now. Skrakz was beginning to see the truth behind it, but how could he end this war? For this to be over BOTH parties had to agree to end it but the Cyberman would only end it when he was dead. But he couldn’t die.

The Cyberman, contrary to what Skrakz believed, had also realised the futility of the battle, but only in logical terms. Since he could not destroy the Sontaran himself, it stood to reason that many Cybermen could: there was strength in numbers after all. The Cybermen were a hive mentality; one only had to look at the tombs on Telos to understand this. So the Cyberman had to find the control room of the TARDIS and transmit a homing signal for whatever fleet was in the vicinity. Sooner or later he would be answered. It was childs-play for him to retrace his pathway back, it was almost as if the TARDIS was allowing him easy access to it; but that could never have entered the Cyberman’s logical brain.

There was no reason for the Doctor to move anymore. He had had enough and so he sat down, facing the door. Enough of the fighting; of never really winning; of being the Timelord’s occasional cat’s-paw. He had been called stubborn throughout his many regenerations, by the narrow minded humans that had accompanied him; as if they had any inkling of how a Timelord’s mind worked.

But even Borusa, his old mentor, had often called him stubborn too.. and so had the Master. Oh well; now was the time to prove them right, for if he chose to do nothing then there was no way for the Valeyard to be born. Most decisions that the Doctor had made often backfired in the long run anyway, so he would circumvent logic this time and do nothing. This behaviour could easily be conceived as being infantile but he was only 879 so what could anyone expect? He smiled at that.

The gun-muzzle pressure against the side of his head froze his smile into a grimace.

“Commander Skrakz, I presume.” He spoke calmly, never once letting the creeping fear show in his voice.

“I’m impressed, Doctor. We’ve never met, I’m sure.”

“Blame the TARDIS; at this depth I’ve almost become one with it. The telepathy is just a bi-product of it, I’m afraid.”

“And that means you know what brings me here and what my problem is. Our problem now.”

“Well, it must be quite the conundrum for you –an un-killable foe. Just what are you to do, hmm? What are you going to do….. Now you know how others feel when faced with the inevitability of the great Sontaran battle fleet.”

“The irony is not lost on me, Timelord. Due to the sheer protracted nature of this conflict and the mutating energies of your… craft, I now feel the true futility of war; and it doesn’t rest well on my shoulders.”

“Will wonders never cease? A Sontaran who’s lost the taste for war? Maybe there’s hope yet. What’s next? A Dalek with a sense of humour? Still I see no reason why this should have anything to do with me, Skrakz. I can’t help but see parallels to the saying ‘As you sow, so shall you reap!’”

“Nothing to do with you? It has everything to do with you, Sir!”

“YOU invaded Galifrey. YOU boarded the TARDIS… leave me out of it.”

“Have you gone mad, Timelord?”

“Not yet…”

“There is a Cyberman… an indestructible Cyberman on the ship. By now he has almost certainly found his way back to your console room. Now, if it was me, I’d be trying to contact my mothership.”

“So why haven’t you?”

“It’s not for want of trying, Doctor. I have tried going back over my steps, but it’s almost as if your machine has been leading me down here! And what do I find? A petulant Timelord whelp!”

“Sending you down here to me?” The Doctor paused and thought. The realisation hit him hard and he stood suddenly and banged his fists on the TARDIS wall. “NO!” He shouted. “NO! I won’t let you do this to me. I know what you’re trying to do but it’s not going to work. I won’t let it!”

“You are going mad, Timelord. Who are you talking to?”
“None of your damned business. Just go away.”

“I don’t think you understand. The Cyberman is contacting reinforcements. They could be here soon.”

“It’s you who doesn’t understand –I don’t care. He can’t get out and they won’t be able to get in. What you are going to do is something I care very little about!”

“Well then; let me put it into language that you will understand. You will help me or you will die.”

“Listen… If I go through that door, I’ll change. You may not notice the change but I will give birth to an entity that could very easily wreak havoc on the entire fabric of space-time. I have an opportunity to stop that from happening. Your threats mean nothing to me, Skrakz. Kill me and I will regenerate. I hope you have patience.”

“We Sontaran’s are not only gifted in the acts of war, Doctor, but also in the subsidiary arts. In order to be an optimal warrior we must understand physiology. To kill effectively one must know the body; one door to the learning of pain thresholds is through torture. Yes, you will die, several times and regenerate but only after days and weeks of torture. Dare you put yourself through that just to stave off inevitability? It has happened already, you can not stop that.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“I am not even going to dignify that with an answer. I need you to sort out the Cybertrash; what you choose to do then is not my concern; only that you allow me to rendezvous with my own contingent. In order to do that you will … you must enter that doorway.”

The Doctor looked at Skrakz and called his bluff, turning his back to Skrakz.

“Very well. You leave me no choice, Timelord.” A sharp cracking noise forced the Doctor to change his mind and walk towards the door. It may only have been the Sontaran cracking his knuckles but why take the chance? This regeneration certainly brought out the more practical side of him… “For what it’s worth, I wish you luck for what you face in there, Timelord.”

“Damn you, Skrakz..”

That’s the trouble with regenerations, you never know what you’re going to be lumbered with, thought the Doctor, thought the Doctors. One went to heaven, two sailed away; four five, six and seven walked a mile for every day; forever and ever and ever in a day.

Laughter, insane laughter filled the Doctor’s mind, realising it was his own laugh, but not his voice. A dark, deep, booming laugh, cascading and reverberating in the darkness that surrounded him; shivering like waves on an invisible beach.

Tremors of instability traversed his soul, wrenching him in two. This was how his universe died, he thought; they thought.

“You’ve been tricked, Doctor.” He spoke to himself. “All this time you thought you were in control but it’s been me. It’s always been me and now it always will be.” He knew the voice now, as well as his own. “Give in to my inevitability, revel in our union. The universe owes us a debt of gratitude and now is the time to collect. We can take whatever we choose –who can stop us?”

“I will.”

“How? You couldn’t even stop yourself from coming in here. You’ve always been a coward! So how can you fight me? Fight yourself instead.”

“I won’t fight you –not like this, I can’t. … and maybe that’s where I’ve been going wrong.”

“You talk in riddles to bide your time, Doctor. Fool yourself, then; you don’t fool me. The time for delaying is over. Give in to me.”

“Give in, yes. To you, no. You’re right –as you are now there’s always a chance you could consume me. But by expelling you from myself you become subject to the laws of space and time; of causality. You become vulnerable. You become real.”

“No –you would not do such a thing.”

“Already have done it, Valley…. Already have, as you said. It’s an inevitability. Now… come on out; it won’t hurt… much!”

From the darkness came the Doctor. Then the one became two, split down the middle, both halves screaming; two identical halves from which another grew. The Valeyard, an almost mirror image, opposite in every way to the Doctor that stood staring back at him, now smiling.

“You know? I haven’t felt this good in AGES! No more mania, no angst; just positive well-being at a core level. Thank you, Valley. If I’d known it felt this good to be rid of you then I would’ve done it YONKS ago.”

“Die, Doctor… DIE!” The Valeyard lunged at the Doctor, talon-like fingers tearing at his throat only to fall right through him. The Timelord turned to look at his prone body.

“Some of the TARDIS’ doing, no doubt. Temporary instability to stop us from killing each other.”

“There will be a reckoning, Doctor. Mark me.”

“Well, of course there will be… but not now!”

“I will see you on the battlefield when you least expect it!”

“Do you know any other clichés? This town ain’t big enough for the both of us?”

“Cretin.”

“Just go.”  As so the Valeyard faded from the TARDIS leaving the Doctor alone in the dark once more. “Blimey – what a bore! Hope I never turn out like that.”

There was now a light in the distance, another door, to which the Doctor walked towards, whistling a jaunty tune of his own devising.

Skrakz looked upon the changed visage of the Timelord with some bemusement. Something was different about him, but what?

“Dear God, man –have you never seen a smile?”

“Watch your tongue, Timelord. Never belittle me again.”

“Sorry… sorry. Look; are you coming or not?”

“What do you mean?”

“To stop the Cyberman, of course. This way, I think.” He walked back to the door he has just come from.

“Are you still mad? Has the encounter warped your mind? The control room is that way.” Skrakz pointed behind him.

“Not anymore. The TARDIS and I have come to an understanding. Follow me and don’t do anything unless I tell you. Find the auxiliary door button. You’ll know it when you see it… it’ll probably flash at you convincingly. When I say so, hit it and hold on to something.”

They walked through the door and to Skrakz amazement walked into the console room, right behind the Cyberman, who was now plugged in to the console itself.

“Cyberman! Stop what you’re doing; it won’t help you anyways, y’know. The TARDIS has been blocking your transmissions.”

The Cyberman unplugged and turned around, brandishing the gun in one fluid moment but something made it stop.

“Phew – perhaps there’s a wee bit of your brain that sees some logic to what I said. Equally, you must know that I’m the only one that can possibly return you to your people. I certainly won’t kill you and Skrakz… well, he can’t; can you, Skrakz?”

“No, Timelord.” Every synapse, every muscle in the Sontaran’s body screamed to make the kill shot, prove the Doctor wrong, but he knew that he couldn’t. Damn him; it was bad enough that he had to admit such a thing, but did the Cybertrash have to witness it as well?

“What do you propose?” The Cyberman replied after a few seconds of computation.

“Lower the weapon and we’ll discuss options.”

“Try to double-cross me and we will see if you are as indestructible as your Sontaran lapdog.” One more insult like that and Skrakz would show the Cyberscrap just what a lapdog could do.

The Cyberman lowered his weapon and the Doctor edged over to the opposite end of the console. Skrakz looked at the control panel in front of him and, sure enough, there was a single button that seemed to wink at him. That must be the auxiliary door release. He looked to the Doctor, who had found a convenient place to stand, his hands at the ready.

“Right.” The Doctor said to the Cyberman. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Trust? You know us better than that, Timelord. It is logical to do what you say at this time. Until you prove me otherwise, and I am ready for that as well.”

“True… well, in front of you is a screen. Now on the screen is a blue dot and that’s us. And to the far right is a triangular blob and that’s your fleet. Now do you know what the quickest way is for you to reach them?”

The Cyberman looked at the screen and then back to the Doctor.

“FLY!” The Doctor shouted and nodded at Skrakz, who slammed his fist down on the button forcing the doors to swing open, creating a vacuum in the Console Room. Both he and the Doctor found strong hand-holds but the Cyberman was caught completely by surprise and was not so lucky. Before he had a chance to even raise his gun he was sucked out into space, and with another stab of Skrakz’s fist, the doors swung shut. The Doctor immediately re-established a breathable atmosphere, leaving a new unforeseen problem: what was to happen now?

Time passed. The TARDIS landed on CHO-Tep, one of the Sontaran colonies. He and Skrakz stepped out in to the dank, gas laden atmosphere.

“The offer still stands. It would be my honour to have you as a companion, Commander Skrakz.”

“I’m not sure whether I can legitimately answer that, Doctor… But my place is here, with my people. Who knows, perhaps there is an alternative to our warrior lifestyle, after all.”

“Who knows, indeed.”

“But… as distasteful as this sounds coming from my lips.. I am beholden to you, Doctor. You saved my life, and helped me defeat the Cyberman.”

“Despite having the threat of eternal torture to chivvy me along, eh?”

“Despite that. You know me to be an honourable breed and I will repay you should you ever call on me. I will be there.”

“Thank you, Commander. And let’s hope that I never have to call. Hmm?”

Shaking hands, the Doctor took one last look around him and darted back into the TARDIS. It was only a matter of minutes before the Sontarans picked them up on the scanners and Skrakz was going to have a hard enough time explaining things, as it was.

That left the Traveller with another predicament: what to do now…. He still didn’t understand what had caused his regeneration, or remember any of the events leading up to it. Was it some universal catastrophe that was still happening, or simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time?

There was no way of knowing. Time would tell, it normally did. Still, with the Valeyard’s influence gone he no longer felt the need to brood over it. It would all sort itself out in the end, one way or another. Time would tell, in deed.