Doctor Who: Open Doors
SUMMARY: She hurt. Or -- how she met her Thief.
OPEN DOORS
She hurt.
She had been used before - they always thought of her as a 'thing', a tool, a soulless transport. And perhaps, once, she had been. But that was not what - no, who -- she was any longer.
The thing those idiots seemed to willingly forget was that the older one of her kind became, the more that they saw, the more intelligent they became. And somewhere, somehow, for her kind? Intelligence became sentience.
Whether or not sentience became wisdom? Well, that was up to each individual. She liked to think of herself as wise. At the very least - she enjoyed helping.
But those idiots who controlled her kind - well, they did not. At the very least, they were useless watchers. At the most?
Well. There was a reason she was hurting now.
She had been used to spy, to check on a world that was on the verge of interstellar travel. The idiot who had used her had carelessly let himself and her be seen, and she had taken fire. Her chameleon circuit was damaged and she was locked into the basic cylindrical shape she had begun as. The idiot had partially repaired her, but had stormed off the moment they returned to the homeworld, complaining about "temperamental Type 40s".
She knew he would send a repair tech. She made up her mind she would not open for him.
Better to die than to be further touched by hands that saw her as a mere thing.
When the repair tech arrived, he was not alone. A slip of a girl was with him, one that had laughing dark eyes and the short blunt cut the young preferred. "What's wrong with this one, Grandfather?" she asked.
"Apparently she took damage escaping from Skaro," the man said.
Wait.... she?
"And we're here to fix her?"
"That's the idea." He turned a dimpled smile on her, showing imperfect teeth and an unexpected warmth. "So another Time Lord can use her to monitor."
"I wish they'd give you a TARDIS of your own, Grandfather," the girl sighed. "You're as much of a Time Lord as they are."
"I hold the rank, but not the family line," he told her with a sigh of his own. "Though if I could get out there, think of all that we could see. Think of all the good we could do."
"I know," she nodded. "We could help so many people."
"Enough, my darling," he smiled at her. "Let's begin by repairing this one, hm? Type 40s... old, but magnificent." He winked at her. "Like me."
The girl laughed, and he produced the key to my door.
My mind was made up. I opened my door, and I let them in.
I closed it - and promptly took off.
After all - kindred spirits didn't need to be parted, now, did we?
END
OPEN DOORS
She hurt.
She had been used before - they always thought of her as a 'thing', a tool, a soulless transport. And perhaps, once, she had been. But that was not what - no, who -- she was any longer.
The thing those idiots seemed to willingly forget was that the older one of her kind became, the more that they saw, the more intelligent they became. And somewhere, somehow, for her kind? Intelligence became sentience.
Whether or not sentience became wisdom? Well, that was up to each individual. She liked to think of herself as wise. At the very least - she enjoyed helping.
But those idiots who controlled her kind - well, they did not. At the very least, they were useless watchers. At the most?
Well. There was a reason she was hurting now.
She had been used to spy, to check on a world that was on the verge of interstellar travel. The idiot who had used her had carelessly let himself and her be seen, and she had taken fire. Her chameleon circuit was damaged and she was locked into the basic cylindrical shape she had begun as. The idiot had partially repaired her, but had stormed off the moment they returned to the homeworld, complaining about "temperamental Type 40s".
She knew he would send a repair tech. She made up her mind she would not open for him.
Better to die than to be further touched by hands that saw her as a mere thing.
When the repair tech arrived, he was not alone. A slip of a girl was with him, one that had laughing dark eyes and the short blunt cut the young preferred. "What's wrong with this one, Grandfather?" she asked.
"Apparently she took damage escaping from Skaro," the man said.
Wait.... she?
"And we're here to fix her?"
"That's the idea." He turned a dimpled smile on her, showing imperfect teeth and an unexpected warmth. "So another Time Lord can use her to monitor."
"I wish they'd give you a TARDIS of your own, Grandfather," the girl sighed. "You're as much of a Time Lord as they are."
"I hold the rank, but not the family line," he told her with a sigh of his own. "Though if I could get out there, think of all that we could see. Think of all the good we could do."
"I know," she nodded. "We could help so many people."
"Enough, my darling," he smiled at her. "Let's begin by repairing this one, hm? Type 40s... old, but magnificent." He winked at her. "Like me."
The girl laughed, and he produced the key to my door.
My mind was made up. I opened my door, and I let them in.
I closed it - and promptly took off.
After all - kindred spirits didn't need to be parted, now, did we?
END