Fic: Two Coins, Silver 4/10 (Doctor Who; Realignment 'verse)
Story Title: Two Coins, Silver (4/10)
Series Title: part of the Realignment universe
Author: butterfly
Summary: It's not exactly the honeymoon of anyone's dreams.
Pairing: Doctor/Rose
Rating: PG-13.
Warning: AU after Doctor Who 3x13 - "Last of the Time Lords". Some plot elements and lines from "The Voyage of the Damned", written by Russell T Davies.
Previous Parts: One; Two; Three.
Two Coins, Silver
He had to think this through rationally - Rose wasn't here, but that could mean any number of things. She could have popped back to the TARDIS or just could have wandered off to find the loo or she could be looking for a better view of Earth...
She could have gone off with that weaselly-looking blond man who'd been staring at her breasts.
She wouldn't have done that, would she?
They were as good as married. She'd agreed on that. And human marriage carried with it certain expectations of exclusivity. Rose hadn't believed that the Queen of France would have liked Reinette, after all. She must have a dim view of extra-marital relationships. Surely, she must.
Mustn't she?
Once he found her, the Doctor decided, they were going to find out what was off about this ship and fix it. Then he was going to take her dancing, slide off that red dress of hers, and finally show her why experience trumped youth.
Though... perhaps he could kill two birds with one stone.
He slipped on his glasses and made his way to one of those countless 'Max' adverts - this one in a picture frame set up next to a window - and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He should be able to isolate the one human on the ship while at the same time seeing if those power fluctuations the crew member had mentioned were anything significant. He opened up the panel and started messing about with it, not particularly bothering to be subtle about it.
Rose's biometric data was soon entered into the machine and he'd just about gotten the system to show him the results for both queries. He pushed the screen back into place - there was the information about Rose, right there. She was... approaching the main control area of the ship.
Of course, she was. Thinking ten steps ahead, like she always did. Rose was going to find out who was in control of the ship and see if the problem could be solved with a minimum of fuss. Brilliant.
And, below, there was the informa-
In large, flashing red letters that he would have noticed before if he hadn't been so focused on finding Rose's name, the screen warned him that the shields were off-line.
He looked out the nearest window and spotted three bright orange-yellow lights headed toward the ship. A meteoroid shower on the way and the ship's shields were down. He had the sinking feeling that this wasn't accidental.
He should be able to call the bridge from... ah! There was a call button right on the screen. He activated it and informed the bridge about the situation.
Instead of listening to him, the man started demanding to know who he was. If the ship was in immediate danger, why would the name of the person giving the warning be at all relevant? Why were so many species so fixated on names?
“Never mind that,” the Doctor told him. “Your shields are down.”
The man was simply refusing to do so much as say that he would check his scanner. Whatever was happening, the captain was either an incompetent fool or he was in on the plan.
Rose was headed that way.
And now the crew, instead of paying attention to him, yanked him away from the windows and comm system. Of all the bloody-minded stupidity that he'd ever witnessed, this had to be near the top. They couldn't all want to die horribly. Surely, this wasn't a suicide ship. Astrid, Foon, and Marvin hadn't acted as though they'd signed up for a death cruise.
Though he tried to get through their thick skulls to the reasoning beings inside, neither of the crew members marching him out of the room were willing to listen to him. Giving up on them, the Doctor ripped his way free and started to race through the room, barreling past passengers and heading toward the stage. There was a woman up there, singing about lovers and Christmas, and he'd able to use her microphone. He'd be able to warn the passengers, even the crew was determined not to listen. Then he could go find Rose.
“Everyone listen to me!” the Doctor shouted as soon as he had hold of the stand. He was talking so loudly that he was getting some static from the speakers. “This is an emergency! Get to the lifeb-”
Someone was behind him, pressing their hand over his mouth and hauling him away from the microphone. He fought wildly to get free, but couldn't get any purchase. He was pressed back into the arms of the crew and they were pulling him out of the room again. He tried to continue to warn the guests as he was pulled along, but he was soon out of the room and they wouldn't be able to hear him.
They were all going to die.
Another room, with fewer people, but he kept trying to let them know the truth. From out of nowhere, Astrid had popped up next to them, hurrying along with, trying to tell the people holding him prisoner that they should give him a chance. They ignored her, but the Doctor had to admire her bravery in sticking out her neck for his.
On his other side, Marvin had followed them out and he was saying something, too, though the Doctor couldn't catch the words. They were with him, then - if Marvin were here, so was Foon. They wouldn't be caught in the first hit of the meteoroids. There was that small ray of hope.
He'd been dragged all the way into the service corridors now, where no other passengers would be able to hear him. He didn't stop talking, though, hoping that his clever, clever mouth would be able to say something that would make these men take him seriously.
A yell from behind them drew the crew members' attention and they stopped pulling him along - he turned along with them to see who was speaking.
“Steward! I'm telling you, the shields are down.” His corroborator was none other than the businessman who'd been so horrid to Astrid. Well, at this point, the Doctor would take all the help he could get.
“Listen to him,” the Doctor urged. “Listen to him!”
It was too late.
The first hit rocked the ship as badly as he'd feared. With the shields down, they had no defense against the power of the push and against the heat and concussive force of the blast.
Sparks flew and fires broke out, and the deck of the ship shook as another flaming rock hit them. His captors had long since lost their hold on him and their footing and he could only hope that they hadn't lost their lives as well.
He saw blonde hair and reached out instinctively, cradling Astrid's small warmth against himself as he felt the impact of another meteoroid smashing into the ship. Her hand was holding tightly to his jacket, but she didn't scream. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, both of them low to the ground. He couldn't save all those people in the main hall, but this one woman he had to be able to hold onto.
He wished that he knew exactly where Rose was, that he could put his hands on her right now and know that she was safe - she was smart, though, and she was tough. She'd be holding onto something right now, keeping herself safe. Probably protecting someone else.
Hoping just as strongly as he was that they would make it back to each other.
A plume of fire reached out in his direction and the ship shuddered violently. He tried to keep ahold of Astrid but she was pulled out of his grasp as both of them went falling forward.
He hit the ground painfully hard.
There was stillness now. Only the sound of the ship settling and the welcome noise of people breathing.
He paused a moment longer, waiting for the next hit, and then breathed out in relief when it didn't come. It might be over, for now.
He pushed himself up off the ground and motioned for everyone to be quiet. After some more time passed, he relaxed further. They were through that storm, at least.
“It's stopping,” he told them. They'd survived. He reached down and pulled Astrid up off on the ground, looking around to see how much damage had been done. In balance, quite a lot. There was definitely some structural damage - the hull wasn't secure anymore, of that much he was already certain. Smoke had filled the air, though the fires hadn't stopped yet.
The entire corridor was a mess and Astrid and the other survivors were covered in soot and black streaks from the dust and ash. Flames flickered in several places and some of the computer consoles were still sparking.
And there, at his feet, one of his escorts was lying quiet and still. He bent down to feel for a pulse - nothing. Dead.
The surviving crew member - the steward - watched the Doctor solemnly and then attempted to pull himself together, straightening his jacket and brushing back his hair with a shaking hand. Then the man turned to the passengers and started to try to explain to them exactly what had happened. It was a task that the Doctor didn't envy him. The Doctor used the brief respite to look over the other survivors - Marvin and Foon, thankfully. Bannakaffalatta and Mr. Copper, which was nice. And... that bloke who'd been mean to Astrid.
Well, they couldn't all be winners.
Astrid went over to Mr. Copper, who was bleeding a little from a small wound in his head. She called the Doctor over and he went willingly, tucking away his glasses and then looking over Mr. Copper's wound for her sake, though it was clear to him that it was a minor injury.
She was asking Mr. Copper how he felt, getting him to talk about himself a bit. Best way to make certain that everything in his brain was in the right place, really. She was quite good at this sort of thing. Perhaps she should look into medicine or some form of care-taking, once he got her out of this mess. Martha could take Astrid under her wing - a solution that would make everyone happy. Astrid would get to live on an alien planet and Martha would get an alien friend who would be delighted to stay on Earth for a while without getting itchy feet.
Astrid turned toward him and smiled and then the Doctor heard the steward say something about finding out about 'the true nature of the situation'. The Doctor turned around, relieved that the man was finally willing to listen, and he saw the man reaching for the door seal.
No, not after an accident this wide-spread. The damage was too severe to sustain atmosphere automatically. It needed to be manually restarted.
The Doctor shouted at him not to, but it was too late - the door had been opened and there was no oxygen seal, not after a hit that heavy and with the shields down. The man was sucked out before the Doctor could even get close and now they were all in danger, because the air was being depressurized and them right along with it.
The Doctor braced himself against the wall, holding on tightly as the air whistled past him, and looked around for one of the ship's control panels - there, right across the corridor from him, Bannakaffalatta was holding onto one.
He flung himself across the hall, his right side aching where he slammed against the wall - he'd end up with a bruise for at least a day or two - and hurriedly pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He aimed it at the console, shifting the settings with his middle fingers while doing his best not to let go of the panel.
It was a sickeningly familiar situation, feeling the pressure to let go and fall, knowing that losing his grip might be the last thing he ever did - the last time he'd done this, he'd lost everything.
He finally reached the right setting and sealed them off from the vacuum of space, letting himself lean heavily against the console to recover from the tug of emptiness.
With the oxygen shield now in place, he took a moment to check in on the remaining survivors - it looked like they hadn't lost anyone but the steward. He had Astrid, Foon, Marvin, Mr. Copper, Bannakaffalatta, and-
The man who'd yelled at Astrid.
“You... what was your name?” the Doctor asked, because he couldn't very well call him 'arrogant wanker' to his face. Somehow, Rose would find out, and she would scold him for it later.
“Rickson Slade,” he said, as if the Doctor should recognize the name.
“You all right?” the Doctor asked.
“Yeah. No thanks to that idiot,” Slade said. He might be 'all right' but he was apparently still a bastard.
“The steward just died,” Astrid said, taking the words right out of the Doctor's mouth.
“Then he's a dead idiot,” Slade said. Astrid gasped and moved toward Slade and... much as he agreed with her, it would probably be a good idea for that particular conversation to be shut down.
“All right, calm down,” the Doctor said. For once, he'd like to run into a group of people that did as he said on the very first go. “Just... stay still, all of you.”
He glared at the whole lot of them for a moment, then he moved over to the gaping hole in the wall. Bits and pieces of the ship were floating right before his eyes and he could still see the body of the steward - and there were more bodies out there, too. Many more bodies.
He didn't see Rose's, but then again, he wouldn't. She'd be at the other end of the ship, if one of the meteoroids had hit near the bridge.
They hadn't, of course.
She wasn't out there. Rose Tyler wouldn't have died like this. Not after he'd only just gotten her back. She was fine. Better than fine.
“What happened?” It was Astrid. He hadn't even heard her come up next to him. “How come the shields were down?”
“I don't think it was an accident,” the Doctor said. He should have done something the second that they'd come aboard - Rose had had that warning and he should have...
He should have been able to stop this from happening.
“How many dead?” Astrid asked. The Doctor turned to look at her. She was staring out at the debris, grief and horror overwhelming her. She wouldn't be able to function like that.
“We're alive. Just focus on that.” He took her by the shoulders and forcibly turned her body away from the vast, howling graveyard outside. He bent over so that his face was level with hers and tried to sound as reassuring as he could. “I will get you out of here, Astrid. I promise. Look at me.”
She looked so terribly, horribly lost and uncertain, but she was looking him in the eyes now and she was listening. That was a start.
She was so young.
“I promise,” the Doctor repeated firmly. Slightly, hesitantly, she nodded and that was good enough for him to go on. She wouldn't fall apart. Now, he could secure the TARDIS and-
there it was, outside the door - outside the ship. Just floating, for the moment, but soon it would hook onto Earth's center of gravity and land. Probably somewhere in London, just out of habit. Well, that took his best option off the table. There was no quick and easy TARDIS rescue in the cards.
He closed his eyes and breathed in, slowly, willing himself to logically think of his next step. They could check to see if the bridge was all right. That was close to where Rose had been when he'd seen her on the scan, so he could also ask after her, find out if she'd gotten all the way to the bridge before the ship had been hit.
He made his way back to the console, Astrid trailing behind him. He reached out to activate the connection to the bridge, pressing down firmly and speaking as calmly as he could manage. “Deck twenty-two to the bridge.”
No answer.
Surely, it hadn't been one of the sections directly impacted. Even if the captain were involved in the sabotage, he couldn't have wanted to die. There had to be something else at work.
“Deck twenty-two to the bridge,” he repeated, his voice shaking a bit. “Is there anyone there?”
“Two of us still alive,” said a very welcome voice. “Are you all right?”
“Rose,” he whispered, needing to stop for a moment to let the sound of her sink into his bones. He'd been right to trust her, of course. She was there on the bridge and she was fine. He hadn't lost her, not this time. “I'm- I'm fine. I'm good. And you? You said there were two of you left.”
“We lost the captain and... and another man in the crash,” Rose said, roughly. He ached with the need to be next to her, to be able to wrap her up in his arms and help her through her grief. “We've got air, though.”
The Doctor could hear the sound of another voice underneath her, masculine and young, but he couldn't make out the words.
“Doctor, a Mr. Frame-”
Another brief pause and fierce whispering that he couldn't understand.
“Sorry, that's Midshipman Frame. He says that our oxygen field is holding strong - he'd like to talk to you himself,” Rose said. She sounded exhausted. After this, they'd have a good rest in the TARDIS before going and visiting Martha.
“Yes, of course,” the Doctor said. If she thought it best that he speak with Frame, then that's what he would do. One of Rose's admirable traits was the ability to delegate tasks if someone else was better suited for the job. “Rose - I'm so glad that you're all right.”
“I know how you feel,” Rose said, softly. Her breath audibly caught, and then she coughed a bit, clearing her throat. She must be suffering from smoke inhalation. Hopefully, the air on the bridge was clear enough that it wasn't doing her lungs serious damage. Her body might be more resilient than most humans - courtesy of the TARDIS - but it was still far more fragile than his own. “Here he is for you.”
Another voice came on the line - the youth he'd heard talking to Rose just moments ago.
“The captain... he did it,” Frame said. The Doctor had been right on his guess - Frame was very young. His voice quavered and even broke at times. The Doctor couldn't quite imagine how Frame must feel now, betrayed by his own captain, betrayed by the man who was meant to look after him and teach him. “He took down the shields. There was nothing I could do - I tried. I did try. I couldn't stop him from any of it.”
“Just stay calm,” the Doctor said. These people from Sto - Stoians, Stovans, Stoics? - were very excitable. “Rose said that your name was Frame? It's nice to meet you, sir. What's the state of the engines?”
“They're cycling down,” Frame said. Which would be fine if they were in the dead of space or if this ship had a proton fusion drive, but the Doctor had the horrible suspicion that he wasn't going to be lucky today.
Maybe it was the suit.
“That's a nuclear storm drive, yes?” the Doctor asked. Frame confirmed on that which was... it was very bad. If this ship crashed into the planet - and because of the meteoroid impacts, there was every chance that it would - the resulting damage would be catastrophic. If it hit in the right place, it could trigger an explosion that would destroy enough of the planet to cover the rest in a massive ash cloud that would kill off the entire human race in a matter of weeks. “Midshipman, I need you to fire up the engine containment field and feed it back into the core.”
“That's never going to work,” Frame said. Apparently, no one had ever told the man that trying something impossible was better than sitting around and waiting to die.
“Trust me, it'll keep the engines going until I can get to the bridge,” the Doctor said. “Midshipman, my- Rose is up there. If I didn't think this would work, I wouldn't suggest it.”
“Oh, I see,” Frame said, immediately. The Doctor wondered if Rose had said anything to him, out of range of the microphone. “I understand. I'll do it.”
“Thank you,” the Doctor said. “Will... will you put Rose back on?”
“Yes, of course - I'll get working on that field.”
There was a moment of silence and then the comms crackled again.
“I hear that you're coming up to join me,” Rose teased. He could picture the sparkle in her eyes, the way her mouth curved up appealingly. “Can't stay away?”
“From you? Never,” the Doctor said, trying to keep his tone as light as hers was. He hadn't a clue how she managed to be so strong. “I know that it's a lot to ask, but try to keep yourself safe until I get there.”
“You're the one that needs to take care, Doctor,” Rose said, more seriously. “You have a long way to go before you get here.”
“Unfortunately,” he said. “Rose...”
“Yes?”
“You looked so beautiful tonight, in that red dress,” he told her, pitching his voice low and intimate. “Extremely beautiful...for a human.”
It wasn't enough, but it was all he could offer right now. Especially with Frame and the Doctor's group of survivors listening in on them. And Rose laughed in delight - that sweet and addictive laugh - and that made everything worth it.
“I love you, too,” she said, her voice choked up with emotion, and he was smiling now, thinking of reaching her and not of what he'd need to go through to get there. “Be careful and... get here as soon as you can.”
“Yes, ma'am,” he said, and then he shut off the comm and turned toward his motley group.
“Are we going to die?” Foon asked, as soon as he was looking at them, worry written on every line of her face.
“Did someone do this to the ship on purpose?” Mr Copper asked.
“But we're just a cruise ship!” Astrid protested.
Once again, he had to wave them down into some semblance of order. He laid out the situation as clearly as he could - they needed to get to the bridge so that they could save the ship. Simple and easy.
“Who put you in charge and who the hell are you anyway?” Slade challenged him. There always had to be one, didn't there? He didn't have time for this. And he was getting just a little bit tired of being questioned while he was in the process of trying to save lives.
The Doctor took a step forward and looked Slade straight in the eyes.
“I'm the Doctor - a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous. I'm nine-hundred and three years old and I'm the man who is going to save your lives and all six billion of the people on the planet below, just in time to have Christmas dinner with my wife and our friends. You got a problem with that?”
Slade flinched and looked away from him. “No.”
“In that case,” the Doctor said, grimly satisfied. “Allons-y!”
He waved his band onward, towards the bridge and Rose.
Continue to part Five.
Series Title: part of the Realignment universe
Author: butterfly
Summary: It's not exactly the honeymoon of anyone's dreams.
Pairing: Doctor/Rose
Rating: PG-13.
Warning: AU after Doctor Who 3x13 - "Last of the Time Lords". Some plot elements and lines from "The Voyage of the Damned", written by Russell T Davies.
Previous Parts: One; Two; Three.
Two Coins, Silver
He had to think this through rationally - Rose wasn't here, but that could mean any number of things. She could have popped back to the TARDIS or just could have wandered off to find the loo or she could be looking for a better view of Earth...
She could have gone off with that weaselly-looking blond man who'd been staring at her breasts.
She wouldn't have done that, would she?
They were as good as married. She'd agreed on that. And human marriage carried with it certain expectations of exclusivity. Rose hadn't believed that the Queen of France would have liked Reinette, after all. She must have a dim view of extra-marital relationships. Surely, she must.
Mustn't she?
Once he found her, the Doctor decided, they were going to find out what was off about this ship and fix it. Then he was going to take her dancing, slide off that red dress of hers, and finally show her why experience trumped youth.
Though... perhaps he could kill two birds with one stone.
He slipped on his glasses and made his way to one of those countless 'Max' adverts - this one in a picture frame set up next to a window - and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He should be able to isolate the one human on the ship while at the same time seeing if those power fluctuations the crew member had mentioned were anything significant. He opened up the panel and started messing about with it, not particularly bothering to be subtle about it.
Rose's biometric data was soon entered into the machine and he'd just about gotten the system to show him the results for both queries. He pushed the screen back into place - there was the information about Rose, right there. She was... approaching the main control area of the ship.
Of course, she was. Thinking ten steps ahead, like she always did. Rose was going to find out who was in control of the ship and see if the problem could be solved with a minimum of fuss. Brilliant.
And, below, there was the informa-
In large, flashing red letters that he would have noticed before if he hadn't been so focused on finding Rose's name, the screen warned him that the shields were off-line.
He looked out the nearest window and spotted three bright orange-yellow lights headed toward the ship. A meteoroid shower on the way and the ship's shields were down. He had the sinking feeling that this wasn't accidental.
He should be able to call the bridge from... ah! There was a call button right on the screen. He activated it and informed the bridge about the situation.
Instead of listening to him, the man started demanding to know who he was. If the ship was in immediate danger, why would the name of the person giving the warning be at all relevant? Why were so many species so fixated on names?
“Never mind that,” the Doctor told him. “Your shields are down.”
The man was simply refusing to do so much as say that he would check his scanner. Whatever was happening, the captain was either an incompetent fool or he was in on the plan.
Rose was headed that way.
And now the crew, instead of paying attention to him, yanked him away from the windows and comm system. Of all the bloody-minded stupidity that he'd ever witnessed, this had to be near the top. They couldn't all want to die horribly. Surely, this wasn't a suicide ship. Astrid, Foon, and Marvin hadn't acted as though they'd signed up for a death cruise.
Though he tried to get through their thick skulls to the reasoning beings inside, neither of the crew members marching him out of the room were willing to listen to him. Giving up on them, the Doctor ripped his way free and started to race through the room, barreling past passengers and heading toward the stage. There was a woman up there, singing about lovers and Christmas, and he'd able to use her microphone. He'd be able to warn the passengers, even the crew was determined not to listen. Then he could go find Rose.
“Everyone listen to me!” the Doctor shouted as soon as he had hold of the stand. He was talking so loudly that he was getting some static from the speakers. “This is an emergency! Get to the lifeb-”
Someone was behind him, pressing their hand over his mouth and hauling him away from the microphone. He fought wildly to get free, but couldn't get any purchase. He was pressed back into the arms of the crew and they were pulling him out of the room again. He tried to continue to warn the guests as he was pulled along, but he was soon out of the room and they wouldn't be able to hear him.
They were all going to die.
Another room, with fewer people, but he kept trying to let them know the truth. From out of nowhere, Astrid had popped up next to them, hurrying along with, trying to tell the people holding him prisoner that they should give him a chance. They ignored her, but the Doctor had to admire her bravery in sticking out her neck for his.
On his other side, Marvin had followed them out and he was saying something, too, though the Doctor couldn't catch the words. They were with him, then - if Marvin were here, so was Foon. They wouldn't be caught in the first hit of the meteoroids. There was that small ray of hope.
He'd been dragged all the way into the service corridors now, where no other passengers would be able to hear him. He didn't stop talking, though, hoping that his clever, clever mouth would be able to say something that would make these men take him seriously.
A yell from behind them drew the crew members' attention and they stopped pulling him along - he turned along with them to see who was speaking.
“Steward! I'm telling you, the shields are down.” His corroborator was none other than the businessman who'd been so horrid to Astrid. Well, at this point, the Doctor would take all the help he could get.
“Listen to him,” the Doctor urged. “Listen to him!”
It was too late.
The first hit rocked the ship as badly as he'd feared. With the shields down, they had no defense against the power of the push and against the heat and concussive force of the blast.
Sparks flew and fires broke out, and the deck of the ship shook as another flaming rock hit them. His captors had long since lost their hold on him and their footing and he could only hope that they hadn't lost their lives as well.
He saw blonde hair and reached out instinctively, cradling Astrid's small warmth against himself as he felt the impact of another meteoroid smashing into the ship. Her hand was holding tightly to his jacket, but she didn't scream. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, both of them low to the ground. He couldn't save all those people in the main hall, but this one woman he had to be able to hold onto.
He wished that he knew exactly where Rose was, that he could put his hands on her right now and know that she was safe - she was smart, though, and she was tough. She'd be holding onto something right now, keeping herself safe. Probably protecting someone else.
Hoping just as strongly as he was that they would make it back to each other.
A plume of fire reached out in his direction and the ship shuddered violently. He tried to keep ahold of Astrid but she was pulled out of his grasp as both of them went falling forward.
He hit the ground painfully hard.
There was stillness now. Only the sound of the ship settling and the welcome noise of people breathing.
He paused a moment longer, waiting for the next hit, and then breathed out in relief when it didn't come. It might be over, for now.
He pushed himself up off the ground and motioned for everyone to be quiet. After some more time passed, he relaxed further. They were through that storm, at least.
“It's stopping,” he told them. They'd survived. He reached down and pulled Astrid up off on the ground, looking around to see how much damage had been done. In balance, quite a lot. There was definitely some structural damage - the hull wasn't secure anymore, of that much he was already certain. Smoke had filled the air, though the fires hadn't stopped yet.
The entire corridor was a mess and Astrid and the other survivors were covered in soot and black streaks from the dust and ash. Flames flickered in several places and some of the computer consoles were still sparking.
And there, at his feet, one of his escorts was lying quiet and still. He bent down to feel for a pulse - nothing. Dead.
The surviving crew member - the steward - watched the Doctor solemnly and then attempted to pull himself together, straightening his jacket and brushing back his hair with a shaking hand. Then the man turned to the passengers and started to try to explain to them exactly what had happened. It was a task that the Doctor didn't envy him. The Doctor used the brief respite to look over the other survivors - Marvin and Foon, thankfully. Bannakaffalatta and Mr. Copper, which was nice. And... that bloke who'd been mean to Astrid.
Well, they couldn't all be winners.
Astrid went over to Mr. Copper, who was bleeding a little from a small wound in his head. She called the Doctor over and he went willingly, tucking away his glasses and then looking over Mr. Copper's wound for her sake, though it was clear to him that it was a minor injury.
She was asking Mr. Copper how he felt, getting him to talk about himself a bit. Best way to make certain that everything in his brain was in the right place, really. She was quite good at this sort of thing. Perhaps she should look into medicine or some form of care-taking, once he got her out of this mess. Martha could take Astrid under her wing - a solution that would make everyone happy. Astrid would get to live on an alien planet and Martha would get an alien friend who would be delighted to stay on Earth for a while without getting itchy feet.
Astrid turned toward him and smiled and then the Doctor heard the steward say something about finding out about 'the true nature of the situation'. The Doctor turned around, relieved that the man was finally willing to listen, and he saw the man reaching for the door seal.
No, not after an accident this wide-spread. The damage was too severe to sustain atmosphere automatically. It needed to be manually restarted.
The Doctor shouted at him not to, but it was too late - the door had been opened and there was no oxygen seal, not after a hit that heavy and with the shields down. The man was sucked out before the Doctor could even get close and now they were all in danger, because the air was being depressurized and them right along with it.
The Doctor braced himself against the wall, holding on tightly as the air whistled past him, and looked around for one of the ship's control panels - there, right across the corridor from him, Bannakaffalatta was holding onto one.
He flung himself across the hall, his right side aching where he slammed against the wall - he'd end up with a bruise for at least a day or two - and hurriedly pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He aimed it at the console, shifting the settings with his middle fingers while doing his best not to let go of the panel.
It was a sickeningly familiar situation, feeling the pressure to let go and fall, knowing that losing his grip might be the last thing he ever did - the last time he'd done this, he'd lost everything.
He finally reached the right setting and sealed them off from the vacuum of space, letting himself lean heavily against the console to recover from the tug of emptiness.
With the oxygen shield now in place, he took a moment to check in on the remaining survivors - it looked like they hadn't lost anyone but the steward. He had Astrid, Foon, Marvin, Mr. Copper, Bannakaffalatta, and-
The man who'd yelled at Astrid.
“You... what was your name?” the Doctor asked, because he couldn't very well call him 'arrogant wanker' to his face. Somehow, Rose would find out, and she would scold him for it later.
“Rickson Slade,” he said, as if the Doctor should recognize the name.
“You all right?” the Doctor asked.
“Yeah. No thanks to that idiot,” Slade said. He might be 'all right' but he was apparently still a bastard.
“The steward just died,” Astrid said, taking the words right out of the Doctor's mouth.
“Then he's a dead idiot,” Slade said. Astrid gasped and moved toward Slade and... much as he agreed with her, it would probably be a good idea for that particular conversation to be shut down.
“All right, calm down,” the Doctor said. For once, he'd like to run into a group of people that did as he said on the very first go. “Just... stay still, all of you.”
He glared at the whole lot of them for a moment, then he moved over to the gaping hole in the wall. Bits and pieces of the ship were floating right before his eyes and he could still see the body of the steward - and there were more bodies out there, too. Many more bodies.
He didn't see Rose's, but then again, he wouldn't. She'd be at the other end of the ship, if one of the meteoroids had hit near the bridge.
They hadn't, of course.
She wasn't out there. Rose Tyler wouldn't have died like this. Not after he'd only just gotten her back. She was fine. Better than fine.
“What happened?” It was Astrid. He hadn't even heard her come up next to him. “How come the shields were down?”
“I don't think it was an accident,” the Doctor said. He should have done something the second that they'd come aboard - Rose had had that warning and he should have...
He should have been able to stop this from happening.
“How many dead?” Astrid asked. The Doctor turned to look at her. She was staring out at the debris, grief and horror overwhelming her. She wouldn't be able to function like that.
“We're alive. Just focus on that.” He took her by the shoulders and forcibly turned her body away from the vast, howling graveyard outside. He bent over so that his face was level with hers and tried to sound as reassuring as he could. “I will get you out of here, Astrid. I promise. Look at me.”
She looked so terribly, horribly lost and uncertain, but she was looking him in the eyes now and she was listening. That was a start.
She was so young.
“I promise,” the Doctor repeated firmly. Slightly, hesitantly, she nodded and that was good enough for him to go on. She wouldn't fall apart. Now, he could secure the TARDIS and-
there it was, outside the door - outside the ship. Just floating, for the moment, but soon it would hook onto Earth's center of gravity and land. Probably somewhere in London, just out of habit. Well, that took his best option off the table. There was no quick and easy TARDIS rescue in the cards.
He closed his eyes and breathed in, slowly, willing himself to logically think of his next step. They could check to see if the bridge was all right. That was close to where Rose had been when he'd seen her on the scan, so he could also ask after her, find out if she'd gotten all the way to the bridge before the ship had been hit.
He made his way back to the console, Astrid trailing behind him. He reached out to activate the connection to the bridge, pressing down firmly and speaking as calmly as he could manage. “Deck twenty-two to the bridge.”
No answer.
Surely, it hadn't been one of the sections directly impacted. Even if the captain were involved in the sabotage, he couldn't have wanted to die. There had to be something else at work.
“Deck twenty-two to the bridge,” he repeated, his voice shaking a bit. “Is there anyone there?”
“Two of us still alive,” said a very welcome voice. “Are you all right?”
“Rose,” he whispered, needing to stop for a moment to let the sound of her sink into his bones. He'd been right to trust her, of course. She was there on the bridge and she was fine. He hadn't lost her, not this time. “I'm- I'm fine. I'm good. And you? You said there were two of you left.”
“We lost the captain and... and another man in the crash,” Rose said, roughly. He ached with the need to be next to her, to be able to wrap her up in his arms and help her through her grief. “We've got air, though.”
The Doctor could hear the sound of another voice underneath her, masculine and young, but he couldn't make out the words.
“Doctor, a Mr. Frame-”
Another brief pause and fierce whispering that he couldn't understand.
“Sorry, that's Midshipman Frame. He says that our oxygen field is holding strong - he'd like to talk to you himself,” Rose said. She sounded exhausted. After this, they'd have a good rest in the TARDIS before going and visiting Martha.
“Yes, of course,” the Doctor said. If she thought it best that he speak with Frame, then that's what he would do. One of Rose's admirable traits was the ability to delegate tasks if someone else was better suited for the job. “Rose - I'm so glad that you're all right.”
“I know how you feel,” Rose said, softly. Her breath audibly caught, and then she coughed a bit, clearing her throat. She must be suffering from smoke inhalation. Hopefully, the air on the bridge was clear enough that it wasn't doing her lungs serious damage. Her body might be more resilient than most humans - courtesy of the TARDIS - but it was still far more fragile than his own. “Here he is for you.”
Another voice came on the line - the youth he'd heard talking to Rose just moments ago.
“The captain... he did it,” Frame said. The Doctor had been right on his guess - Frame was very young. His voice quavered and even broke at times. The Doctor couldn't quite imagine how Frame must feel now, betrayed by his own captain, betrayed by the man who was meant to look after him and teach him. “He took down the shields. There was nothing I could do - I tried. I did try. I couldn't stop him from any of it.”
“Just stay calm,” the Doctor said. These people from Sto - Stoians, Stovans, Stoics? - were very excitable. “Rose said that your name was Frame? It's nice to meet you, sir. What's the state of the engines?”
“They're cycling down,” Frame said. Which would be fine if they were in the dead of space or if this ship had a proton fusion drive, but the Doctor had the horrible suspicion that he wasn't going to be lucky today.
Maybe it was the suit.
“That's a nuclear storm drive, yes?” the Doctor asked. Frame confirmed on that which was... it was very bad. If this ship crashed into the planet - and because of the meteoroid impacts, there was every chance that it would - the resulting damage would be catastrophic. If it hit in the right place, it could trigger an explosion that would destroy enough of the planet to cover the rest in a massive ash cloud that would kill off the entire human race in a matter of weeks. “Midshipman, I need you to fire up the engine containment field and feed it back into the core.”
“That's never going to work,” Frame said. Apparently, no one had ever told the man that trying something impossible was better than sitting around and waiting to die.
“Trust me, it'll keep the engines going until I can get to the bridge,” the Doctor said. “Midshipman, my- Rose is up there. If I didn't think this would work, I wouldn't suggest it.”
“Oh, I see,” Frame said, immediately. The Doctor wondered if Rose had said anything to him, out of range of the microphone. “I understand. I'll do it.”
“Thank you,” the Doctor said. “Will... will you put Rose back on?”
“Yes, of course - I'll get working on that field.”
There was a moment of silence and then the comms crackled again.
“I hear that you're coming up to join me,” Rose teased. He could picture the sparkle in her eyes, the way her mouth curved up appealingly. “Can't stay away?”
“From you? Never,” the Doctor said, trying to keep his tone as light as hers was. He hadn't a clue how she managed to be so strong. “I know that it's a lot to ask, but try to keep yourself safe until I get there.”
“You're the one that needs to take care, Doctor,” Rose said, more seriously. “You have a long way to go before you get here.”
“Unfortunately,” he said. “Rose...”
“Yes?”
“You looked so beautiful tonight, in that red dress,” he told her, pitching his voice low and intimate. “Extremely beautiful...for a human.”
It wasn't enough, but it was all he could offer right now. Especially with Frame and the Doctor's group of survivors listening in on them. And Rose laughed in delight - that sweet and addictive laugh - and that made everything worth it.
“I love you, too,” she said, her voice choked up with emotion, and he was smiling now, thinking of reaching her and not of what he'd need to go through to get there. “Be careful and... get here as soon as you can.”
“Yes, ma'am,” he said, and then he shut off the comm and turned toward his motley group.
“Are we going to die?” Foon asked, as soon as he was looking at them, worry written on every line of her face.
“Did someone do this to the ship on purpose?” Mr Copper asked.
“But we're just a cruise ship!” Astrid protested.
Once again, he had to wave them down into some semblance of order. He laid out the situation as clearly as he could - they needed to get to the bridge so that they could save the ship. Simple and easy.
“Who put you in charge and who the hell are you anyway?” Slade challenged him. There always had to be one, didn't there? He didn't have time for this. And he was getting just a little bit tired of being questioned while he was in the process of trying to save lives.
The Doctor took a step forward and looked Slade straight in the eyes.
“I'm the Doctor - a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous. I'm nine-hundred and three years old and I'm the man who is going to save your lives and all six billion of the people on the planet below, just in time to have Christmas dinner with my wife and our friends. You got a problem with that?”
Slade flinched and looked away from him. “No.”
“In that case,” the Doctor said, grimly satisfied. “Allons-y!”
He waved his band onward, towards the bridge and Rose.
Continue to part Five.