A Meddler Incorrigible

Story 2 time! This week it's the turn of Mr George Potter (aka Gloryroad) and he's written a cracking little tale for old Sixie! So, please be upstanding for this splendid story, and make sure you leave your comments and/or votes back on gallifreybase, and let George know how much you liked it. I'm very pleased I've managed to ensnare him for series 4 too, but that's a way off yet!
So, here is:

A Meddler Incorrigible

By George Potter

  

  "Doctor! Hurry up! What are you doing in there?"
    Peri was dressed to the nines. The Doctor had said Mallworld was 'the ultimate shopping experience' and Peri, as a full blooded American girl, took that as a challenge. In the 80's, to a Cali girl, shopping wasn't simply an errand, or a pastime, or even an art form. It was absolute, utter, total aesthetic and reputational war. Your enemies were every other female in the mall, and you only went to buy new clothes wearing the best of your wardrobe. The goal was to be the hottest thing there, and she was a veteran of a thousand bloody campaigns.
    She smiled rather meanly. She doubted that any peruser on Mallworld had a wardrobe to match that of the TARDIS. She'd often spent days wandering the vast labyrinth that the Doctor sometimes referred to as the 'clothing cupboard.' She'd seen cities that were smaller, and buildings not as tall as some of the ladder be-decked stacks of garments. To explore it all would take a lifetime. Luckily, early on, she'd found a nice, football field sized corner of lovely things in her size and suited to her look.
    She entered the one sequence of TARDIS controls that she'd managed to master: a three switch and one button code that turned the view screen into a mirror. Still waiting for Mr. Slowpoke, she admired herself.
    The jump suit, in her day and age, would be considered close to indecent, even by the relaxed standards of California. It was made of some alien material that arranged itself intelligently in response to light, air-pressure, motion and – most interestingly – interest from passers-by. It seemed to flow along her shape sensually, change color almost subliminally, and adjusted itself to her every critical thought. Currently, it was a subdued blue with the faintest of purple highlights, showing a barely-legal amount of cleavage. She smiled, pretending shyness, and it darkened and covered her a bit more. Oh, this was going to be fun!
    "Ah, Embarian multi-formic smart-fabric," the Doctor said, stepping jauntily into the console room. "Outlawed on over a hundred planets. For inciting riots, I seem to recall." He smiled, lifting a brow. "Luckily for you, Mallworld has no dress code. And you'll have me to beat-back the slavering admirers."
    Peri laughed, glancing from the mirror. "Come on, Doc..." The words died on her tongue. She goggled at him.
    He frowned. "Please don't call me 'Doc', I've told you before..." He noticed her stunned expression. "What are you staring at?"
    Peri swallowed hard. She actually felt faint. "Your clothes."
    His face fell. "You don't like it?" He sounded slightly hurt.
    "You...look....great," she managed.
    And he did. He'd ditched the Technicolor nightmare ensemble and dressed almost formally. The deeply grey suit, with subdued black striping and gleaming white lapels, was like something Armani might design after reaching Enlightenment and being commissioned by God Himself. He'd trimmed his hair and now sported an ebony swagger stick. His only concession to his usual look was the cat badge, and even it was a tasteful variation: art deco inspired and sporting top-hat and monocle.
    The Doctor smiled. "Thank you. Thought a bit of a change was in order. I've been feeling a bit...garish...in my usual look, for some strange reason."
    Peri, recovering, bit back a sarcastic reply. She certainly didn't want to discourage this new found dress sense.
    The Doctor sidled up to her and took her arm. They both looked up at the view mirror. "Sheer class!" the Doctor exclaimed. And Peri had to agree. They looked fantastic together. Her outfit had instantly adapted to his, suiting it perfectly. She smiled, delighting in the image.
    "Let's be off!" The Doctor said, keying open the doors. "You wanted a shopping expedition, and that's what you shall have, young Perpugillium. I've a pocket full of universal credits and a day to roam. We'll explore the deepest corners of Mallworld and end the day with a fine dinner. The Tip-Top Restaurant has a spectacular menu, I seem to recall."
    "Sounds perfect," Peri said, and regretted the unease that rose up within her. She tried to ignore it as they stepped from the TARDIS into the vast and busy halls of Mallworld, but it refused to go away.
    With The Doctor, 'perfect' almost always meant trouble.

*****

    Mel was almost at the end of her rope, and that was saying something: Melanie Bush had an extremely long rope. Her own mother had tended to grow frustrated by her daughter's seemingly unfailing good nature and ability to forgive almost any slight.
    But even she had limits. And she'd reached one.
    "I don't care what that stupid piece of paper says, Mr. Calufrom. You aren't selling me to anyone!"
    Mr. Calufrom shrugged – or at least Mel thought he did. It was hard to tell, since he looked like the product of a drunken night involving a turtle, a lobster, and a particularly un-picky robot. "I think you'll find the clauses and codicils quite in line, m'dear. The Toast Hut has offered a nice settlement for your contract, and to be honest, you break more dishes than you clean."
    Mel sighed. "It's because of these gloves!" She raised the large, clumsy, and revolting blue hand protectors as evidence."
    "Not my problem that your tender Terran skin can't handle the aggressive surfactants needed to deal with Aturian dishes!"
    "If you'd just let me waitress..."
    Mr. Calufrom hooted, his amusement so great that he clicked claws rhythmically along with the piping laughter. "No one wants to see your hideous human form whilst trying to digest, m'dear, why..."
    Mel had had enough. Hideous, indeed! With a yell, she shoved the offending form of her employer onto its back. Mr. Calufrom gasped in surprise and fear, since being flipped onto the shell was an instinctual terror to his kind, giving predators access to the soft underbelly.
    "Right me, woman! Right me!"
    "Goodbye, Mr. Calufrom," Mel said, pleasantly. She stripped the gloves from her hands and tossed them into the bubbling sink. "Your partner will be along in a moment. He can right you. I'll be off now, and I definitely won't write!"
    As if the universe decided to punish her for that particularly terrible pun, the door opened and said partner stepped inside. Mr. Craymoon wasn't an Arturian. He was a Leonide, and began to growl deep in his throat as soon as he saw the scene in his kitchen.
    "Grab her, grab her!" Mr. Calufrom cried. "She's attempting to abscond on her contract!"
    Grinning, the lion-man crouched for a pounce. Mel emitted a small shriek and found herself running, smashing through the kitchen door and through the mostly empty dining room.
    Of course, running was the worst thing you could do when confronted with a Leonide -- it fired the hunting instincts into overdrive.
    With a roar, he gave chase.

*****

    "A rest, I think..." The Doctor panted, nearly collapsing onto the bench provided for weary shoppers. As he sat, the fourteen heavy bags thumped down. Peri sat her two primly to the side and followed suit. She was having a wonderful day. The stores here were fantastic, and the attention of men seemed to swirl around her like the tides of a great sea. It was almost as nice as the intense jealousy she could feel absolutely radiating from every female and feminoid she passed. The armies of Mallworld were well and truly routed.
    "If I'd known you were going to buy this much, I'd have hired a go-cart," The Doctor said, mopping his brow.
    Peri shook her head. "Those things look like Varosian models," she judged. "Way too slow. Besides, I'm almost done. We can have dinner in a bit." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, a thank you for being such a good sport. He tried to scowl at her but failed. He tweaked her nose. "As you like. This is your day."
    All at once, that odd unease rose up again, stronger than ever. Peri stared hard at her friend. There was something about the way he said that last, as if...
    "Doctor, what are you hiding from me?"
    The Doctor gave her his best look of shocked innocence. "Hiding? Hiding? Peri! How could you..."
    "Can it!" she said, cutting him off. "I'm certain now. I know you a little better than you think I do. You've brought us here for some reason. A reason that has nothing to do with giving me a day out. Admit it!" The jump suit, responding to her anger, grew thicker and more modest, as if preparing for a fight. Her eyes flashed.
    For a moment, the Doctor considered meeting her temper with his own, but didn't really have the heart for it. He sighed, slumped a little. "It's actually something quite important."
    Peri stamped. "I knew it! I knew it! I just knew this wasn't a day simply for me! I knew it was some meddlesome plan you hatched!"
    The Doctor shrugged, seemingly tired. "Well, really – can't it be both?"
    Peri growled and sat down hard, her back to him, arms crossed. She really hated it when he got all reasonable!

*****

    "This is all quite complicated..." the Doctor began, and Peri could tell from the tone of his voice that it was going to be a long explanation, one she wasn't particularly in the mood for. She stared up the wide, crowded walkways, teeming with multitudes of exotic alien life, and pretended to be focused on a shoe store that catered for hoofed life-forms. He could just deal with the silent treatment, she vowed.
    "When we were at Tranquil Repose, I received...well, a sort of telepathic foreboding. A warning," he went on. "It's not unheard of. The cycled down brain states there, right at the verge of extinction, can act like a sort of antenna, an amplifier to a properly telepathic and time-sensitive mind."
    Peri rolled her eyes, but didn't make a sound. Technobabble! Is that the only way he knew to explain anything?
    "This went on well after we left there. It invaded my dreams, a complex and unmistakable pattern of warnings. It all pointed to one thing: my own people, the Time Lords, were planning to kidnap me from the vortex, for who knows what purpose."
    It was getting harder to feign disinterest, but Peri was determined to continue the cold shoulder. She searched the crowd for anything to distract her.
    "And your own life was in danger, I know that much. Who knows what or who was sending those warnings: some alternate, possible future self, some parallel almost-me....when you've meddled and messed with the time stream as much as I have over the centuries, anything is possible."
    Peri was about to give up and turn around – hearing herself mentioned had that effect on her – when something did catch her eye. Some sort of disturbance, far down the walkway, muddying the smooth flow of that river of beings.
    "Not sure exactly what the danger to yourself was, but I got the feeling that it was a fate worse than death!"
    Something was coming towards them. Peri could hear the indignant yells and shouts of people knocked over and jostled to the side, and – disturbingly – a deep, rumbling growl.
    "Something to do with a large and very loud man, and a tradition of having multiple children without the benefit of pain medication." The Doctor shook his head, dismissing the thoughts. "Disturbing stuff! Finally, I acted. I made certain....arrangements. Set certain safeguards. Since I was sure the Time Lords were playing with tricky might-have-beens and temporal sleight of hand, it was easy enough to defend against. I think I've managed to avoid them, and the warnings have indeed stopped." He sighed yet again. "But that's not all. There was someone else involved, and that's why we're here today."
    The disturbance approached and Peri grew alarmed. People were now leaping out of the way and the yells and outright screams were growing closer and louder. She stood up. The Doctor, fully into his confessional speech, paid no attention.
    "An innocent young woman was pulled into the trap, and I've tracked her here. We must return her home, Peri. It's my duty and responsibility. I have a clear image of her: slender, with distinctive red hair, curly. Fair skinned and freckled. I'll know her when I see her and we must remain vigilant!"
    From out of the crowd, running straight at them, came a slender woman with curly red hair. She was fair skinned and freckled – and obviously terrified.
    "Umm, Doctor," Peri said.
    "Let me finish, Peri," he replied. "It may take us days of wandering Mallworld! Weeks! Months! But we must find her!"
    Pursuing the fleeing woman was a lion man. A very angry lion man. Right behind him waddled a turtle-lobster-robot thingy. A very angry turtle-lobster-robot-thingy. The surging tide of being-kind parted to let them through, squawking at the rudeness.
    "Doctor!" Peri said.
    "Who knows what dangers, what terrors she might be facing! Look into your heart, Peri. We must find this poor soul and..."
    "Forget my heart, Doctor!" Peri yelled. "Look behind you!" And she ducked.
    The Doctor whirled. At the same moment, the red-haired woman attempted to leap over their bench, but judged it wrong. Instead, she leaped over Peri and into the arms of a stunned Time Lord. He caught her, stumbled, but maintained his balance.
    "Ooommf!" The Doctor said, gallantly.
    The woman was panting. "I'm...Mel...will...you...please...help....me?"
    "Oomph," The Doctor repeated, nodding.

*****

    The negotiations were short and intense. Even the lax legalities of Mallworld didn't recognize a contract signed by a party who'd been abducted from her world via mysterious temporal chicanery. Even if they had, the Doctor was in fine form: he'd drawn himself up to full height and unleashed his full and fearsome vocabulary at maximum volume. No lion-man or turtle-lobster-robot stood a chance.
    Beyond even that, Messrs. Calufrom and Craymoon had annoyed more than a few of their fellow store owners with their destructive dash through the Mall. A duly-composed lynch party had arrived shortly to end the negotiations, and the trio had made their way back to the TARDIS.

*****

    "It's wonderful!" Mel breathed, the awe apparent in her voice. She looked around the console room, eyes enormous.
    Peri and The Doctor shared a smile. "And it's the finest way to travel in the universe. I can have you back home in mere moments." He positioned himself at the controls and considered. "Pease Pottage, you said?"
    Mel's face fell a little. "If I must. But..." Her look around the TARDIS said everything that needed to be said. "The finest way to travel in the universe," she repeated quietly. "The universe!"
    The Doctor chuckled, and raised an eyebrow at Peri. "Well, Perpugilliam? What say you? It's your day, after all."
    Peri laughed, and slipped her arm around Mel. "I think it's our day. And it will be a nice change to have a girl around this place."
    Mel nearly jumped up and down. "I can stay? Really?"
    "Really!" Peri said. The Doctor just smiled.
    Mel did jump up and down. "Fantastic!" She stopped, looking a bit nonplussed. "I don't have anything though. No money, no clothes. I don't even know how I got to this place..."
    "No worries," Peri told her firmly. "I'll take you to the wardrobe first thing! Then we'll let you pick out a bedroom, get it all nice and decorated, and then to the kitchen for hot chocolate and cookies!"
    Mel and Peri, arm in arm, made their way out of the console room and towards the wardrobe. The Doctor noted that he could hear the giggling for a disturbingly long time. He sighed. This may not be the best idea he'd ever had. Ah, well. Mel's involvement in ways temporal did involve him, in a sense. And poor Peri needed a friend to help her deal with life onboard the TARDIS. Neither of them needed to know that he'd dabbled a bit for purely altruistic reasons.
    And, to be honest, he was beginning to enjoy manipulating things behind the scenes. It made such a long life a bit more exciting.
    By chance, he glanced up at the view-screen, still in mirror mode. He scowled. Whatever was he doing dressed in such dour and frumpy clothes? He shook his head. Must have been a passing madness, thankfully short. He reset the view-screen and punched in co-ordinates for a slow journey to the Eye Of Orion. He owed the girls – and himself – a real holiday, he figured.
    Then he set off towards his own room, more than ready to get out of these funeral clothes and into something that suited him. He whistled as he strolled, reflecting that the clothes – much like the meddling – might not make the man, but they certainly helped one deal with the world properly.
     And, since there was no one around to hear, he indulged in a bit of a giggle himself.

The Death of Innocence

Series 2 is here! The first story – written by yours truly – is now here for your reading pleasure. If you need to refresh your memory by reading The Mandrasta Archive (or at least the end of it) then please do, as one element of the story continues on directly. The other bits of the cliffhanger? Well, a little more of a wait I'm afraid!

So here it is. Series 2, story 1. If you like it, please leave a nice comment back on gallifreybase, where there'll also be a poll to vote on. Enjoy!

The Death of Innocence

    The UK-201 hung there in space, sleek and symmetrical, like all the ships that had left in the great embarkation of 2487.

    Its large size was in stark contrast to the number of occupants, each person on board having the equivalent of a whole acre to themselves should the ship be so divided. The passengers and crew could go for hours – days on occasion – without meeting another living soul. Many of them were glad of the isolation, a respite from their formerly busy lives.

    Dr Pallister was one such man; a noted scientist, one who'd made huge advances in genetics, his work the one thing that had kept him focussed since the premature death of his wife. Work, and his daughter Vicki. She'd been a much needed distraction from the pressures of his job, and he'd raised her from a young age single-handedly. In fact it had been her who'd suggested they leave Earth, to head out to one of the newly colonised worlds in a neighbouring solar system.

    So they'd left, a little over five months ago, heading for this new world that had been christened 'Astra'. Men of his intellect were much sought after on these planets, and it this was one of the deciding factors in his choice to leave his home behind. To be revered, as he'd always dreamed he would; to receive the recognition he knew was due to him after all this time.
    Despite avoiding company (save for Vicki's) throughout much of the voyage, fate had decided that he would meet a man onboard who would change his life forever. Not only his, but his daughter's too.
    The man, Bennett, had escaped from his holding cell, confronting the doctor in a non-descript area of the ship. Bennett had had a weapon, and he'd used it, killing Pallister outright, and disposing of the body from a nearby airlock.
    The weapon, he'd left on the floor. Underneath it on a wall were inscribed the words 'Beware Koquillion.'
    All that was left to indicate Pallister had been there was a small pool of blood. His own daughter had happened to look through a window to the outside, witnessing her own father's body drift away into space. She had found the knife and the blood and the writing.
    And she had wept.

*****

   
    Ian looked around. There it was, right in front of him, but the surroundings were nothing like they should be. The Doctor and Barbara stood near to each other, the Doctor looking rather pleased with himself.
    "You see Chesterton. A plan – and a rather good one at that!" He chuckled, and Ian found that it put him rather at ease, a feeling which was especially welcome after recent events.
    The sight that had greeted them had astounded Ian and Barbara in the same way that it had the Doctor when he'd first set eyes on it. Yet how the Doctor had managed to make it work was beyond Ian's comprehension, and he said as much to the older man.
    The Doctor tapped a finger to his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, it's quite simple dear boy, quite simple. This here," he gestured to 'Exhibit #497', "was already linked into the Archive's system. Therefore I could, to some degree, control where we went." He clapped his hands together with a flourish.
    Barbara looked at him hopefully. "Does that mean you can get us home?"
    The pause before the Doctor spoke said it all. "I'm sorry my dear, my phrasing could have been better. While the navigational system on this vessel is rather primitive by my standards, it'd still take at least a month of solid study to fathom how to get to the correct planet, let alone the correct time period."
    Barbara managed a weak smile.
    "That's ok Doctor. But, what happened? Where are we now?"
    The Doctor looked at her with wide eyes. "Well, that's the thing Miss Wright. I rather think that the black hole that the Archive was situated in has been destroyed and that we...well, we appear to be on the other side of it!"
    Ian looked at the Doctor, a puzzled expression on his face. "The other side of a black hole? Well what does that mean Doctor? The other side of the galaxy?"
    The Doctor took a deep breath. "I'm not exactly sure. That is, I have an idea of what may have happened, where we might be, but I'm afraid only time will unravel that mystery for us." The Doctor could see that Ian was about to speak again, and so continued before the younger man had a chance to ask the inevitable question. "My best guess would be that we've travelled into another universe, one not so different from our own. Every decision we make has a number of possible outcomes, and in this universe it may be that different decisions have been made, different effects created as a result."
    A thought suddenly struck Barbara. "So, in this different universe would be different versions of us, all of us?"
    The Doctor rubbed his hands together as the realisation hit him too. "Indeed, indeed. It would most certainly explain the other Barbara that we saw and the other..." He stopped, aware that he hadn't told the two of them of the occurrence which had taken place earlier in the Archive.
    "The other 'what', Doctor?" Ian narrowed his eyes, though no matter how hard he tried to understand what the Doctor was thinking he was never any the wiser.
    The Doctor waved a dismissive hand. "Never mind Chesterton, there are far more pressing matters, far more pressing. I must do something about this ship, wired up to my TARDIS console. Now, if I just..." The Doctor began flicking switches and pressing innumerable buttons, his hands a blur as Ian and Barbara watched them dance about the controls.
    With a final button pressed, the Doctor stood back and chuckled in triumph. "There we are! All very simple." Both Ian and Barbara looked to him, waiting for an answer. The Doctor held up a hand. "Patience both of you! You shall soon see. But first, we must take a look outside!"
    Barbara looked around the area they were in. It looked nothing like the TARDIS control room, and she was certain that a particularly important element was lacking. "But how do we know if it's safe? There's no scanner."
    The Doctor turned to face her. "The instruments here, "he gestured to the console, "are working perfectly and they are telling us that there is no danger of radiation and the air is quite breathable. Other than that...well we shall found out for ourselves. Now, let us proceed!"
    The Doctor began walking, but he was unsure exactly where he was walking to. He stopped, turned, and began walking in the other direction.
    "Should we...?" Barbara whispered to Ian.
    Ian shrugged. "Probably best just to follow him," he concluded, and the pair of them set off after him.
   

*****

    Bennett looked at his hands, at the blood of the man he'd murdered. It was nothing unusual to him, but it felt as if this time had been different. He'd forgotten all about the weapon he'd left there and had headed straight for Dr Pallister's laboratory. Bennett knew all about the work Pallister had been doing: attempting to completely alter an individual's DNA, to give a new life but still retain vestiges of the old one. It was a breakthrough unprecedented in Terran science, and wasn't something that Bennett should even have been aware of.
    But he was, and killing the man who had discovered how to do it was, to his mind, so much better than the other kills he'd made in the past. Drunks and women, none able to fight back against him. Now he'd killed a true genius, and that made him feel good.
    There was that one woman, so long ago...his first. He'd almost forgotten, but it stuck in his mind now. Why, he wasn't sure, but it lingered for a while. He paused for a moment, then continued on his search. What he was searching for he couldn't properly ascertain, but he'd know when he found it.
   

*****

   
    Vicki had pressed the alarm button near the airlock, though only after tearfully overcoming her own urge to throw herself out of it. Her father, her last living relative, was now gone. It was the emptiness inside that overtook her first, consuming her very being. One of her first thoughts was that this was all her fault. If she hadn't persuaded her father to take the job on Astra, to leave Earth behind, then he'd still be alive.
    It was this thought that had made her want to end her own life until rationality had kicked in and she realised that it would solve nothing. The one thing she wanted now was for justice to be done, for her father's murderer to be found and convicted of the crime.
    Within minutes, Officer Grant (head of security) had arrived on the scene and was looking over what little evidence there was, using his palm scanner to register the findings he made. Vicki knew that he had to do it, to uncover the mystery shrouding her father's murder, but all she wanted was a shoulder to cry on.
    Grant could see the upset in her eyes, and his lined features were not without compassion. He embraced Vicki, and she let forth more tears, droplets soaking in to the fabric of Grant's uniform.    "I know I can't bring him back, but I'm going to find whoever killed him. I have some nasty suspicions about who might have done it too." Grant looked Vicki in the eyes, reassuring her with his tone. "One thing in particular puzzles me though. Have you any idea who or what 'Koquillion' is?"
    Vicki's expression changed immediately, a look of fear crossing her face. "Koquillion? My father used to frighten me with stories of him. He told me that he'd come and get me if I didn't behave. 'Eat your food Vicki, or Koquillion will get you!' 'Go to sleep Vicki or Koquillion will snatch you away.' Those sorts of things. He had to stop though. I had nightmares. Terrible nightmares..." It took all of her willpower to stop herself crying at the memory – both of her father and of the fear that the name of 'Koquillion' induced.
    Grant pointed to the message on the wall. "Well that would imply that whoever killed your father knew him, and knew him well." He paused. "Which means this isn't going to be as straight-forward as I thought."
    Before either of them could comment further, a cacophony of noise alerted them to the sudden presence of a blue box on the other side of the corridor.
    Grant spoke into his wrist communicator. "I need some men up here fast. I'm not entirely sure how, but we've got intruders."

*****

 

    "Aha! I knew it would be around here somewhere. Come along the pair of you!" The Doctor gestured to Ian and Barbara, causing them to quicken their pace to catch up with the older man.
    As they reached him Ian spoke up. "Doctor what is it? What have you found? You've barely told us anything since we escaped that black hole."
    The Doctor pointed his cane in front of him. "This is the exit. And the entrance. We can see where we've arrived!"
    It was Barbara who asked the question before Ian could. "But this craft – it's so much bigger than TARDIS. Aren't we going to be noticed?"
    The Doctor chuckled. "Oh Miss Wright, this is why we need to step outside! Now, through this door..."
    Ian went first followed by Barbara and the Doctor. "I don't believe it! How is it possible?" Ian stared incredulously at the craft they'd arrived in. From the outside it looked just like a Police Box.
    "Familiar isn't it? I found that the TARDIS controls being linked to the other ship meant that I could use the features of the TARDIS. I've managed to get the dimensional stabiliser to settle the ship, and it's locked in this form for now. Nothing changes! Now, if only I could do something about the interior..." The Doctor drifted off, musing on the possibilities.
    Barbara looked around. "Well, we appear to be on another ship. And...oh." She stopped, the five armed guards that had surrounded them causing her to stop.
    The others noticed at the same time and put their hands in the air.
    Ian looked to the Doctor. "You were right – nothing changes!"

*****

 

    Bennett looked around the laboratory, tearing open cupboards, pulling spools of tape from computer banks around the room, all in a desperate effort to locate the source of his 'salvation'. In the corner was a piece of machinery that stood out because of its difference to the equipment around it.
    Bennett walked over to it, sensing that this was the device he'd been looking for. It appeared to be some kind of body scanner, probably used to force the DNA changes. He walked around it, looking to see if there was any obvious way of operating the machine.
    Next to the controls appeared to be a retinal scan, and Bennett cursed himself for not realising it before he dispatched Pallister. Then a thought struck him. He was sure that there had to be a back-up, a fail-safe. The work would be too important to be completely deadlocked. There had to be another way in.
    Another retinal print perhaps.
    A smile played across his face as Bennett realised who Pallister would have set as the back-up. Now all he had to do was find her.

*****

   
    Vicki stood with Grant and four other men as they surrounded the new arrivals. She looked at them curiously, knowing within herself that none of them could have been responsible for her father's death.
    "Who are you?" barked Grant at the newcomers.
    The elderly man lowered his arms, gently moving the gun muzzle away from him with his walking stick. "Young man, kindly refrain from pointing weapons at my person!"
    Vicki could see that Grant was unusually calmed by the older man's actions. She knew that he couldn't possibly think these newcomers were guilty of the crime either, yet protocol had to be observed. These people were technically invaders, and as such had to be treated as 'hostiles'.
    The gun was lowered, Grant urging his colleagues to do the same. He looked the three of them over, scrutinising them for what seemed like an age.
    Vicki looked at them, unsure exactly what to make of them. The older man seemed full of authority, though there appeared to be a gentleness to his eyes as he glanced in Vicki's direction. The other man was younger though certainly not hostile. He reminded Vicki of her father, a man of learning. The female could have almost been her mother; not in looks, but the way she held herself, the slight smile that she directed at Vicki.
    "Mr Grant, they've done nothing. Can you release them into my care? I need to feel useful to take my mind off..."
    Grant normally would have dismissed such a request, but Vicki was almost certain he wouldn't deny her this small intervention. Not now.
    He mused for a few moments, talking briefly with the strangers, explaining the choices they had: go with her or be taken for interrogation and be locked in a holding area for the remainder of the flight.
    The younger man spoke up. "Well you haven't really given us much choice!"
    Vicki watched Grant nod to his men who saluted and filed out of the room. Grant whispered a few words to Vicki, offering to leave a weapon which she immediately refused. She watched him leave the room, then walked forward to introduce herself properly to her 'charges'.
    The woman stepped forward and then shook hands. "I'm Barbara, this is Ian and that," she pointed to the elderly man who was examining the message inscribed on the wall, "is the Doctor."
    "Vicki," she said, shaking first Ian and then Barbara's hand. "I'm sorry about the welcome, it's just that...that..." She couldn't hold in her grief any longer, tears rolling silently down her cheek.     It was the Doctor who noticed and stepped forward to give Vicki a comforting hug. "There there child. It's alright, quite alright. I can tell from the clues left here that something very serious had occurred. A murder. Yes, that's right isn't it?" He watched as Vicki weakly nodded her head.
    At first, no sound came from her throat, but Vicki just managed a faint, "My father," before the tears began falling once more.
    The Doctor patted her affectionately on the back, memories of Susan at the forefront of his mind. If this had been her he knew exactly what he would do, and he knew immediately that he had to take the same course of action. He drew himself up to his full height. "Ian, Barbara, we now have a duty to perform. We must find the perpetrator of this crime and bring them to justice!"
    Ian nodded. "Of course Doctor. But where can we start? We don't have much to go on!"
    Vicki's tears were slowing now, the Doctor extricating himself while still placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He raised his other hand to his face, tapping a finger against his lips in concentration. "The immediate area is, by my estimation, reasonably confined. There are guards seemingly posted all around the nearest exits are there not?" He raised an eyebrow. Barbara nodded, but wasn't really sure if he required an answer. "Yes, well guarded, so there are very few exits left available to the felon." He quickly scanned the area they were in. "Now by my reckoning it's merely two which means..."
    "I'll go with Vicki Doctor. You and Ian can try the other room." Barbara thought that perhaps she'd be the bigger help for Vicki at this moment, and the Doctor appeared to agree, clasping Barbara's hand. Ian looked set to protest, but a sympathetic look from Barbara silenced his words before they could be spoken.
    The Doctor was moving before Ian had realised, and he hurried after him, just having time to whisper "Be careful" to Barbara in passing. She found the sentiment touching and gave him a smile.
    "We'll try my father's laboratory then." Vicki's words woke Barbara from her daze, and she followed Vicki's lead, neither having any inclination of what they might find.

*****

    Bennett could hear noises coming from the main entrance to the room. He looked around for a weapon, something to at least knock whoever it was unconscious. Lying on the bench was a thermo-wrench. At the top heat setting it wouldn't kill, but he'd have to settle for less this time.
    He stole away behind the machine, concealing himself until the appropriate moment. He watched as two figures entered the room. Neither were guards and both were female. One of them he'd never seen before, but the other...he couldn't believe his luck.

*****

 

    Barbara stepped into the laboratory, looking around at the various pieces of equipment, far in advance of the science of her own time. It didn't phase her anymore though. Future technology was so commonplace in her travels with the Doctor that it seemed like normality now.
    It was something else that caused her to pause. On the wall, carved into the very metal of the surface were two words that Barbara had seen mere minutes before: 'Beware Koquillion'. She turned to Vicki. "What does this mean? We saw it in the corridor too? Who's Koquillion?"
    Vicki kept her gaze on the words, not looking at Barbara as she spoke for fear of emotion overcoming her once more. "A name. A name my father used to frighten me with. But I've no idea how anyone else would know of it, why it would be here on the wall."
    With her back to Barbara, she didn't see the thermo-spanner knock the other woman to the floor, nor who had dealt the blow. It was only once Barbara had fallen that she turned around and saw him for the first time.
    She knew at once that Bennett was the man who'd killed her father. A criminal who'd already committed murder on this ship. The ship's psychoanalysts said that long space flights could change people; all that time in confined quarters, no way out. Others thought he'd been wanted on Earth and had left on the ship to escape justice. No one knew for sure which was true, but here he stood in front of Vicki having knocked Barbara to the ground.
    "She'll live, unfortunately," he sneered at Vicki.
    Vicki thought she'd be scared, but the man didn't frighten her. "You murdered my father." She stated it as fact, she didn't need to question it.
    Bennett was impassive, no emotion evident on his face. He stood, staring at Vicki. He watched as she closed her eyes, presumably expecting him to do the worst. Then they opened again, but glazed over, the same lack of emotion in them as there had been on Bennett's face, but for a different reason. Now he looked perplexed, unsure what was happening.
    When Vicki spoke, her voice was harsher than before, slighter lower in tone. "I warned you. Not that there was ever anything you could do. You took his life, and hers."
    Bennett's voice belied his inward feeling. He was being wrong-footed and he wasn't quite sure what to do. "Yes, I killed him. The only remorse I have is that he didn't leave instructions on how to operate that machine." He pointed to the construction behind him. "And she's not dead as I've already said. Though I could arrange it very easily." The menace creeping back into his tone reassured him slightly.
    "Not her. Vicki's mother, all those years ago. It was you. She saw you, with blood on your hands. So young. No child should have to see that."
    Now Bennett was shaken slightly. "You don't make sense. Talking about yourself in the third person. So I killed her. Now I've killed him. They can be together again."
    It was the sickening smile that caused it to happen.
    Vicki shouldn't have been able to lift the metal case that lay next to the DNA samples on the work bench. Bennett should have seen it coming, but he realised too late what the warnings were that she'd been talking about.
    As the metal case collided with his head, Bennett realised the truth as he sank to the floor.
   

*****

 

He wasn't sure exactly how long he'd been unconscious, but he knew it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Bennett couldn't move his head, his arms or his legs. All he could see was a blinding white light directly in front of his eyes.
    He felt the injection as the needle plunged into the nape of his neck, felt the tubes attaching themselves to the various parts of his body. He couldn't speak now, no matter how hard he tried.
    "Beware Koquillion," said her voice. "The warnings were left for you. Not that there was anything you could have done. Koquillion would always have found you, and exacted revenge on what you did to Vicki's parents." She pressed more buttons on the outside of the machine. "She knows how this machine works, and because she knows, so do I."
    Sinister noises started around Bennett's body, noises he had no way of blocking out. His body was starting to convulse under the bindings, elements shifting and reforming.
    "And because we share a body, we share the same retinal print." She looked into the scanner, a light beside it clicking to green. She looked down at Bennett's constricted form. "And don't worry, innocent little Vicki will have no memory of this. Koquillion is responsible, Koquillion has your blood on her hands!"
    With that, Vicki's body fell to the floor.

*****

 

    "Wake up, my child." The Doctor was holding what Ian assumed were smelling salts under Vicki's nose to rouse her. She began to cough, her eyes blinking open at the same time. Ian helped her to her feet.
    Barbara had been coming to as the Doctor and Ian had entered the room after having no luck on their own search. She was nursing a sore head, but "nothing more than a bump and a slight bruise," the Doctor had said.
    The Doctor was now looking at the figure strapped to the machine in the corner. "This, I would assume is our perpetrator. Or rather what's left of him."
    Vicki looked at Bennett's body, raising a hand to her mouth in shock. "He must have tried to use my father's device, but he didn't know how to work it. It's horrible!"
    Barbara ushered Vicki away from the scene. Bennett's body was covered in cracked skin and lesions, his desiccated face a shadow of its former self.
    Ian turned to the Doctor. "What device could have done that Doctor? It's as if his whole body chemistry has been undone!"
    "Hmm, yes quite Chesterton, quite. Though I rather think we should concern ourselves with leaving this place as quickly as possible." The Doctor began walking towards the two women, looking first to Vicki. "Now my dear, we are going to leave this ship before becoming entangled in any more mysteries. I don't suppose...but then..." The Doctor couldn't say what he meant, but Vicki understood.
    "Yes, I would very much like to come with you. There's no one left on the ship for me now. The only reason father and I were travelling to Astra was to start a new life. And now he's gone...yes, why not." She managed a small smile at the Doctor, who put his arm around her.
    "Splendid, splendid. Though there's one thing I should warn you about the ship..."
    As they walked towards the ship, Barbara turned to Ian. "I think it'll do him good, having another young person on board."
    Ian smiled. "I think it'll do us all good." Then he realised what Barbara had said. "What do you mean another 'young person'? We're not exactly drawing our pensions you know!"
    They both laughed, and followed the Doctor and Vicki into the ship, forgetting for now the mystery that had got them here, and unaware of the many more to come.

*****

 

    Grant had noticed the blue box had gone on the way into the laboratory, and there seemed to be no sign of the young Pallister girl either. For the first time in a long time he felt unsure what to do. Hopefully they'd turn up sooner or later.   
    The culprit was being removed from the late Dr Pallister's device. Justice seemed to have found its own way, thought Grant.
    The one thing that puzzled him though was the writing on the body, and what precisely it meant. The skin itself seemed to have cracked in such a way as to form two words:
    Koquillion Lives.
    Grant shook his head and walked away. Sometimes there were never any straightforward answers.
   

   

   
   

Teaser #3

So here it is, the last of the teasers for series 2. The series begins this Saturday, 2^nd October, so I hope you'll enjoy it as much as the first one. To tide you over, here is:

Game-Plan

The room was ornately decorated; plush carpet, opulent furnishings, the very finest in everything that could be found was right here in all its splendour.
    Seated in a finely upholsted armchair near an open fire (itself keeping the temperature of the room well above the chill outside) was the owner of the club. By the side of the chair was a small table, on which sat a manila file, open to show a thick sheaf of paper. The man had left it open on a particular page while he nursed a large glass of brandy, swilling the liquid around before taking a small sip from it.
    A second man approached, sitting in a similar chair adjacent to the first. The other man offered him a drink, but he dismissed it before it was poured.
    "So," the second man – immaculately dressed in a bespoke pin-stripe suit – began, "this is certainly interesting." He picked the top sheet of paper from the file, glancing over the information it presented.
    The first man set his glass down, stroking a stray drop of liquid from his neatly-trimmed moustache, and turned to the new arrival. "Indeed. Though I can't quite fathom why this is proving so difficult."
    The second man raised an eyebrow. "Why not? The subject has always proved particularly elusive, time and again managing to evade our best efforts."
    The moustached man nodded, waving a hand in the air. "You're right, completely right of course. What I am having trouble comprehending is the levels that we are having to go to in order to correct the mistakes that have already been made! This," he gestured to the stack of paperwork beside him, just about containing the urge to knock the whole pile to the floor, "is a travesty! I cannot allow this to continue." The urge then overcame him, the papers knocked from the table, scattering around the room, some finding their way into the fire.
    The other man clapped, very slowly. When he spoke the sarcasm was all too evident in his voice. "Bravo. What a triumph! Has that solved anything, all the problems we have?" He looked for an answer, but the question was rhetorical. "No, I know exactly what we need, and now is the time to instigate it!"
    The moustached man sat bolt upright. "Do you mean...?" The other man nodded in acknowledgement. "Then we must proceed! At once!"
    The other man pulled a briefcase up from beside him, clicking open the catches and lifting the lid almost reverentially. "Phase 2." He turned it so that the moustached man could see it, the enthusiasm evident in his eyes.
    "May I...?" The man's hand hovered over the briefcase, the other man holding his hands away from its contents.
    The other man nodded.
    The moustached man reached into the case.
     "Phase 2 begins....now."
    Both men began to laugh as the room was enveloped in a blinding light. The next stage in the game was just beginning...

Andy Weston - Q & A

Nic Ford, author of the rater marvellous The Holdarnak Spiral, has very kindly posed me some questions, and here are the results! I hope you enjoy it, and just to mention that more interviews (including one with Nic) will be up soon.

So, Andy, why Consequences? What made you want to start this series?
I'd seen a lot of people who'd started fan fiction series, and I always wanted to be involved in one. I was also aware that while different series did seem to gather writers very quickly, many of them seemed -unfortunately - to amount to nothing. Also what I found particularly intriguing was that most of them seemed to be script-based, which isn't something I've ever wanted to write for other people to read. Scripts need actors to bring them to life, and personally, I don't think it's a great way of telling a story that is intended to be read by people for fun - it needs to be seen rather than read. Being a big fan of prose, and seeing virtually no prose series out there, I thought I'd give it a try. I had no idea if anyone would be interested, and was surprised and very pleased by the great response that I got. I wanted to make certain that the series didn't die, and people have been amazingly helpful in taking over slots that people seemed to have abandoned. I took on story 5 because it was the easiest way around that same problem!


The 'Consequences' idea came from an old Decalog collection, as I liked the fact that the stories all had a link that lead to the next happening in a particular way. It happens to a greater and lesser degree in series 1, and because I knew I had another two series to go, it won't now tie up all the loose ends - so you'll have to read the rest of them! Haha! The meaning of 'Consequences' will take on a slightly different focus in the next two series though...

What do you see as the main responsibilities of the series runner in something like Consequences?
Personally, it's been a fair bit of effort on my part. The hardest element to begin with is undoubtedly getting people interested in writing for the series. That said, even prior to that was the setting up of all the links for inclusion. Some were settings, others smaller, but all needed to be thought out. After that, the reading and 'editing' of the stories, which was fairly small in all cases (handily for me!) for content and ensuring the links were consistent.

Other than that, if people dropped out, it was up to me to find replacements. While no-one 'dropped out' as such, three authors were not responding to my attempts to contact them, so I had to make a decision as to whether to wait it out or try to find replacements. The latter was my eventual choice, and it has panned out very well (though I'd rather not have had to write one of them myself!). So, in essence, it's my role to make sure it all runs smoothly, ensure continuity is maintained, and make it as easy for the authors as I possibly can. I hope I've succeeded!

Why Who? What is it about this series that makes it such a rich source of fiction ideas?
I've been a fan of Doctor Who since I was a child, and I think what appealed to me then is also true now. The breadth of ideas and the whole 'magic' of the series reaches out to that child inside us all, no matter what age we are. To able to step into a box with a strange yet wonderful man and turn up anywhere and do anything...there's no limit to where the Doctor can go and what he can do! The very fact that both time and space are not obstacles but the means by which these things happen allows an infinite possibility of ideas. I think because of this, the fact there are no rules and nothing is off limits, means that ideas can keep flowing. The use of time as a central conceit hasn't been used to anywhere near its full extent, though Steven Moffat has certainly done more to bring this back than anyone else. Paradoxes, time loops, all sorts of wonderful notions and ideas that mean that stories can be more inventive than ever!

What's your background? Why do you write, and what's the day job if not writing?
My background is very much in English, having studied it at university, and my day job is teaching. It's great to see how children can write so well from a young age and how much so many of them enjoy reading. I'm glad that we're encouraging kids to enjoy reading and writing more; a cliché I know, but they're the future - some of them the future of Doctor Who!

I write because I love it, though I've had huge chunks of my life where I've not done any. I've only properly gotten back into it in the last few months, but the Doctor Who fiction is really firing me up, and will springboard me back into writing my own original fiction once again. I've got some things on the go already, and I hope after the third series of 'Consequences' is over I can devote a bit more time to it. However, with a new baby on the way, I'll have to see where I can fit it in!

How did you first come across Who? Were you immediately a fan?
My earliest memory (though a little hazy) of Doctor Who comes from when I was about 7, and a vague recollection of part of Terror of the Vervoids. When I saw it properly for the first time (in '93), my brain clicked into gear and I realised what it was that I'd seen all those years ago. It was the Vervoids talking and/or lurking - they did that a lot! After that though, my first clear memory is watching the last part of Time and the Rani and Paradise Towers. As a child, I was completely hooked, and always made sure I watched it every week after that! Having seen them again recently, they aren't the best examples of Who, but they certainly drew me in at the age of 8! McCoy was my Doctor, and I saw all the rest of his tenure when it was airing. I even started getting DWM when Season 25 was starting, and did so for the next couple of years. But then, when it went off air, I drifted away until about '93 (that year again!), when I suddenly got back into it in a big way! I met one of my best friends through a mutual appreciation of the show, and that's what drew me back in again. Around 2001 I began to drift away again (Uni, girls, life - the usual things that cause one to move on!), but just as the new series started my interest came back with a vengeance, and I've never looked back.

Why do you want to write Who fiction? What's the pull to write fanfic in general, and Whofic in particular?
Who fiction is something I've always done on and off since about the mid-Nineties (though more off than on admittedly), and the reason I want to write it is because there are so many stories than can be told with the tools available. It's like being in a toyshop and having completely free reign! You can literally do anything with it, and that's where the appeal lies for me. Nothing is too fantastical, and you already have an in-built mythology to use as you see fit. In some ways that makes it easier to write than other fiction, though in others it can be more difficult.

I think people's desire to write fanfic stems for the genuine love and admiration that people have for programmes like Doctor Who. I'm sure if Sydney Newman were alive and knew of the massive appeal that the show still had he'd be truly gobsmacked! It's all bourne out of love for the show and attempting to imitate and broaden the ideas that it presents. In general terms this is true across all sorts of shows, though I think science fiction certainly has the edge as there aren't so many limitations. As regards Doctor Who specifically they are even fewer limitations, and I can see why that holds a huge amount of appeal.

Favourite Doctor? Why?
A very very hard question. Ask my ten year old self and he'd say Sylvester McCoy, and quite rightly as he was my Doctor. Ask me now and it's a much trickier question to answer. I've always said my two absolute favourites are Davision and Troughton. What I love about Davison is that he was the first to portray the 'old-man-in-a-young-man's-body', and he does so brilliantly. He cares a great deal for the welfare of his companions, yet is constantly - though not intentionally - putting them in danger! I know the same could be said for all Doctors, but how many lose a companion in such a tragic manner? Added to that he's full of energy and enthusiasm, and the viewer gets completely caught up in it! This is also true of Troughton's Doctor, but what appeals about him is the wonderfully excitable persona he has, though balancing humour and seriousness perfectly. In addition, he and Jamie have one of the best relationships of any Doctor and companion.

Now, this is where it gets tricky. I've been watching a lot of Hartnell recently, and he is absolutely brilliant. He may make mistakes (such was the nature of production back then), but he can seem truly alien at times and is completely mesmerising. Watching The Aztecs, or listening to The Massacre and his justifications for not preventing deaths are such that you can see why his companions are often at odds with him. Yet, he can be truly touching. Witness the end of The Dalek Invasion of Earth and the start of The Rescue where he is caught up in thought about Susan's departure; or when Ian and Barbara leave at the end of The Chase - initially he's very angry, but only because he cares; or when Steven storms out of the TARDIS at the end of The Massacre, the Doctor coming to terms with being alone and musing on returning home. Not only that, but he can do comedy (The Romans, The Myth Makers, The Gunfighters) and drama (The Aztecs, The Crusade, The Savages) in equal measure. The original, and one of the best. Maybe the best!

I love Pertwee, as he's a complete change to Troughton - a man of action, and given a perfect foil in the Brigadier. Add to that the very touching relationship between him and Jo and you've another classic pairing.
So much has been said about Baker, and he does have distinct periods. I love the melancholic final season, the man almost knowing he's lived this life too long, change just around the corner. Then again, early Baker has yet another fantastic partnership with Sarah-Jane, so there's much to love there too!

Colin Baker is still much underrated, and were this a 'favourite audio Doctor' he'd win hands down. Big Finish have done so much with the character and made him truer to Colin's original wish to portray him that he's like a different person. Truly brilliant!

I still love McCoy. Manipulator that the 7th Doctor was, he had more mystery about him than the others, and this truly helped to make his incarnation special. He also has - in my opinion - some of the finest stories in the whole series.

McGann is great - the best thing about the TVM. His audios are very, very good too, but I've not heard enough to truly make him a favourite of mine. Eccleston was good but brief, Tennant was superb (just a shame about his finale...) and I'm loving Matt Smith so far (he's a potential front-runner too!).

So, in conclusion....I'm not sure! But, to not wimp out, right now I'm going to pick Hartnell (though it'll probably change by tomorrow!).

Favourite companion? Why?
Hopefully this won't be so long-winded! Sarah-Jane will always be up there, just because of the fantastic partnership she had with the Doctor. For similar reasons I have to nominate Donna too, as her and Ten made a fantastic team - such a shame it was cut short! I've been really enjoying Amy too - very feisty and firey, harking back to Sarah-Jane actually! Even though she's not technically a companion (or is she?), I love, love, LOVE River Song! The idea of someone the Doctor meets, out of sequence, and who has this mysterious back-story is intriguing and exciting, and she's another strong female character. Gotta love 'em!

As for the fellas, Ian and Steven are both very strong characters, and revisiting them recently shows just how good they are. I've got to mention Jamie too, for what would the Second Doctor's era be without him?

Top 5 Doctor Who stories? Why do you like them?
Why did I say 5? Oh well, I'll have a go! In no particular order then:
Nightshade. I love this story to pieces. It was the first New Adventure I read, and I was completely blown away by how good it was. If any other novels are remade for the show, this would be number one for me.
Spare Parts. Davison is fantastic, as is Sarah Sutton. The story is gripping yet horrifying, and you're always hoping the inevitable won't happy, but it does. Truly brilliant.
Warriors' Gate. So unlike any other Doctor Who story (aside from, perhaps The Mind Robber, but only superficially), it looks gorgeous, it has humour, drama, and some great perfomances. Beautiful.
Terror of the Zygons. The greatest monsters never to return (yet!). I don't care about the Skarasen - it's got shape-changing aliens in an organic spaceship!
Blink. Terrifying. Truly and utterly jump-out-of-your-seat Doctor Who. Without much Doctor in it! That Steven Moffat's a clever chap, maybe he should be in charge! Oh....

Favourite author/s? Favourite book/s? (don't have to be Who-related)
Graham Greene is a perennial favourite, Brighton Rock and The Power and the Glory being two of my favourite novels. I love the crime author Elmore Leonard for his use of authentic sounding dialogue, a favourite novel he's written being either Touch or Out of Sight. I enjoy Dennis Lehane, James Lee Burke and James Ellroy too. Aside from crime fiction, I enjoy the work of Dickens and Wells, and David Lodge (whom I need to read more of). Oh, and Stephen Fry, particularly Making History.

What do you like about Doctor Who? What keeps you hooked?
The sheer variety of it. There's nothing quite like it, and the only limitations placed on it are those of the writers. It appeals to young and old, and it will continue to do so as it can constantly change and evolve.

What would be your top writing tip?
One that I've heard more than once, but I'm going to echo it: always have a notebook handy. Many's the time I've had ideas and had nothing to write them in and completely forgotten them later on. Always have something you can jot things down in - you never know when inspiration will strike!

Teaser #2

Another little teaser here – as promised – and this one is more of a direct lead-in to the first story of series 2 than the last one. Hope you enjoy it, and there should be another for your delectation next week...

The Warning

Dr Pallister looked out of the old-fashioned porthole, marvelling at the stars that swam in the blackness of space. He smiled, remembering the times that he and his late wife had stood in a quiet spot on one of their trips to the countryside (what was left of it in the 2470s) and stared up at the night sky. He remembered resting a hand on her swollen tummy, feeling their unborn child kicking as he held her tightly to him.
    "We'll be out there, a new life on a new planet circling another star. All three of us." He had smiled at her, she resting her chin on his shoulder, he stroking her hair affectionately.
    A sudden jolt of the ship broke him free of his memories, and he suddenly remembered where he was, and why his wife was no longer with him. An accident, they'd said, their daughter little more than five years old. He didn't fully believe it to be the truth, and he'd said as much to their child. Not at the time though; then it was hard enough explaining to a little girl that her mummy wasn't coming back, that they'd never see her again. He'd thought about Gene-Rep, but it wasn't the same. He'd never have her back, not his Jennifer.
    He felt a tear trickle down his face as he tried to suppress the memories, if only for a short while. He wiped it away with his shirt sleeve, his mind returning to work once more.
    The meagre laboratory he'd been afforded on the UK-201 wasn't much, but it gave him the basics with which to conduct his research. He headed back the way he'd come, though before long found his way blocked by a figure he recognised.
    "What are you doing here? Surely you're confined to quarters after the incident?" Pallister looked puzzled, and felt slightly afraid, but did his best to hide it.
    "The guard and I came to an...agreement." The larger of the two men smiled, his sadistic nature apparent in even the smallest of gestures. In his hand he held a blade, the artificial light glinting off the metallic surface. "It's very bad luck that you've run into me, doctor."
    Pallister drew himself up to his full height, which wasn't much past the other man's nose. "Listen Bennett, I'm not afraid of you. But I can help you, though why I should bother is beyond...."
    He didn't finish his sentence, a fuzzy sensation filling his head. He looked down to see the handle of the knife sticking out of his chest, Bennett merely smirking at what he'd done. The doctor fell to his knees, his last words unintelligible save for his last – "Vicki" – before he slumped to the floor.
    Bennett wiped the handle of the knife with his clothing and began to drag the body away towards the airlock, tossing the weapon aside now the only connection to him had been erased. The body was heavier than he thought it would be, but within moments, the inner airlock door was open, the body placed in and the door sealed once more.
    He pressed the button to activate the outer door, watching with a grim satisfaction as the body floated off into the unknown.
    He walked away from the door, busying himself with cleaning up the mess he'd left on the floor. The area clean and sterile once more, he hurried away from the scene of his crime, into the labyrinth of corridors that networked the ship.
    The only sign that any activity had taken place in the area were two words that appeared to be etched into the wall facing the airlock. The weapon that had killed Pallister lay on the floor beneath the writing, seemingly used to carve it into existence. It read:
    BEWARE KOQUILLION.

A little something extra

As promised, here is a little something to whet the appetite before series 2 comes around. I'm hoping I can do something similar each week in the lead up to the start of series 2, just as a little taste of things to come. It may not make the most sense at the moment, but come the end of the series it'll all be a lot clearer, trust me! Hope you enjoy it, and please feel free to comment back on gallifreybase (or here if you're so inclined!).

Dalek Cutaway

From the outside, it seemed limited. Space flowed around it, making it appear even smaller than it was. A tiny pinprick of light in the blackness.

    Stars began to appear; few at first, then more with each passing moment, as if it were solidifying into reality. Gradually it became corporeal, sitting at the heart of what once was nothingness, but what now was to them a new born universe.

    Though those that dwelt within were from a far distant place, a world still alive in another dimension, teeming with hostile life. They were at the bidding of others, not something they were used to, nor something they knew they had any choice in.

    For once, they were powerless.

    The confined space allowed for restrictive movement, each of them assigned to a specific area to avoid any destruction in the area they inhabited.

    The scanner screen was active, a radar of sorts attempting to discern the location of those they'd been following. A small dot had appeared briefly, then vanished just as fast.

    The first creature turned its top section to its immediate comrade, its eye a metallic stalk affixed to its 'head'.    

    "SEN-SORS IN-DIC-ATE THE FU-GI-TIVE KNOWN AS THE DOC-TOR HAS VAN-ISHED IN-TO THIS UN-I-VERSE."

    The Dalek next to it pressed a button, an image of the Doctor appearing on the screen. "THE DOC-TOR IS IN THIS BOD-Y AT THE PRE-SENT TIME. WE ARE TO EX-TER-MIN-ATE HIM BE-FORE HE ES-CAPES BACK TO OUR U-NI-VERSE."

    The normally steady beat in the background was silenced, as another light on the control section lit up, indicating an incoming message. The scanner screen lit up once more, the three Daleks all turning their eyestalks in its direction.

    The image on the screen was familiar to them; their 'employer' as they were forced to term the creature. Not an idea that sat well with them, but since it held them in its power and could easily dispatch them if it so wished they had little choice.

    The vocal communication channel was opened, the voice soft yet authoritative. "We sent you here to retrieve the Time Lord. If this is beyond your capabilities, it leaves us in somewhat of a quandary."

    "EX-PLAIN."

    The voice came through once again, a harsher tone to it. "You are supposed to be the most feared beings throughout the galaxy. Does that not extend to other universes?" A pause, the image flickering for a moment. The 'employer' waved a kind, as if to dismiss such thoughts. "We were told that you were the best, the most capable of your species, and within moments you have breached your contract."

    From behind the third Dalek, smoke had begun to spread forwards through the small craft.

    "WHAT IS THE MEAN-ING OF THIS? YOU HAVE JEO-PARD-ISED OUR MISS-ION."

    The figure on the screen began to laugh, a gentle chuckle at first erupting into a full-throated howl. "You had already failed. Call this a mercy killing." The screen clicked off, then back on again. "Oh by the way, there's a lovely planet to cushion your fall. I believe the locals call it Alfava Metraxis."

    The Daleks looked to the controls, though was little they could do to prevent the inevitable. "INI-TI-ATE EMER-GENCY PRO-CED-URE. PLA-NET FALL IN THIR-TY RELS."

    Several buttons were activated, all the while the laughter echoing in their auditory circuits. The image on the screen was now a planet, rushing into view, the velocity of the ship propelling it through the stratosphere.

    Through the cloud formations.

    Closer.

    Closer.

    Closer.

    Then silence.

Thank you!

I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who has read, commented, voted and above all enjoyed the stories in this series. A huge thank you to the writers too, as without them, there'd be very little here!

Series 2 begins on 2nd October, and I'll be slowing them down this time; just one a week to give people time to read and enjoy before the next one comes around. I'll be posting more updates and other little bits and pieces in the lead up to series 2, so it won't be a completely fallow month!

Thank you again, and please do come back for series 2 - you ain't seen nothin' yet!