Recon and Evasive Maneuvers
Title: Recon and Evasive Maneuvers
Rating: PG
Summary: "'Come along, Jones', he said," Martha muttered to her wounded patient."'It'll be fun, Jones,' he said. His definition of fun clearly needs work."
Disclaimer: The BBC owns "Doctor Who" and related characters; Lucasfilm owns "Star Wars" and related characters; I own nothing.
Author's Notes: Written for sunriserooftops as a much belated entry for the 2011 WISHLIST_FIC challenge. The prompt was Martha Jones and Obi-Wan Kenobi, "Don't use time or words carelessly. Neither can be retrieved." The idea kinda ran away from me, so there's definitely a "to be continued" attached to this story.
"'Come along, Jones', he said," Martha muttered under her breath, but without any heat. "'It'll be fun, Jones,' he said," she continued, carefully wrapping her patient's burn wounds. She wiped her forehead with her arm, rocking back on her heels with a sigh. "His definition of fun clearly needs work," she told her unconscious companion. Behind her, a wrecked bike smoldered in the late afternoon sun, a stark contrast to the overgrown neon colored plants and fungi around her. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of acrid smoke, but didn't move. The Doctor had gone off to further investigate the strange planet they had landed on after helping her place a blanket underneath the wounded man, leaving Martha alone to treat her patient.
Martha had been working in her lab, analyzing some samples that Kate Stewart had sent over from UNIT for independent verification when she heard the familiar "whooshing" noise. Only, instead of the Doctor she was familiar with, a new face poked out of the TARDIS, dressed like a professor all in tweed and a bow-tie. That and a ridiculous looking gaucho hat.
"Hello, Martha Jones," he said, his eyes looking so much older in his younger face. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
She took everything in with one long look before meeting his gaze and raising her eyebrow. "Well, it wouldn't have been so long if you'd pick up the mobile I gave you."
He winced, and took a slight step back. "Yeah… I may have destroyed it while regenerating."
"Oh, this is a story I've got to hear."
A groan from her patient brought her back to the present. He was human, as far as she or the Doctor had been able to tell, his reddish hair and beard slightly singed. His clothes were unfamiliar, but that didn't bother Martha. You got used to those things when traveling with the Doctor. She didn’t know how long he’d been here before they found him, but given that the wreckage was still smoldering, it hopefully wasn’t too long.
"Woah, careful there," Martha cautioned the man, who was struggling to sit up. “Easy now.” She pressed her hand against his shoulder, using her position to leverage him back to the ground.
“You don’t understand, I need to help them,” he muttered, his eyes flying open as he struggled against her. Despite the fact he had just woken up, he was stronger than she expected him to be, and it was an effort to keep him down.
“You stop this right now, or else I sedate you!” Martha threatened the man. She glared at him, employing the same look she used on those agents she had to work with that questioned her authority. Slowly, the man stopped trying to move and lay back down on the blanket. “That’s better. Now, what happened?” She also wanted to ask where they were, but she didn’t want to alarm him any further.
“Well, I was in a speeder bike accident,” he began, ignoring Martha’s eyeroll at his statement of the obvious.
“Before that? Because I doubt your bike managed to crash itself.”
“You’d be surprised,” the man remarked wryly. “But I’m afraid I can’t fully answer your question at this time.”
“Really?” Martha asked, giving him another glare. “Can’t or won’t?”
“Does it really matter?”
“What about the ‘them’ you mentioned just a minute ago?” she continued, changing tactics. “What trouble are they in? My friend and I might be able to help, if you just tell me.”
“While I appreciate your offer of assistance,” the man replied in a stony tone of voice, “at this point I must decline.”
Resisting the urge to throw up her hands in exasperation, Martha stood up and brushed off her trousers. “Don’t move,” she told the frustrating man. Stalking over to the bundle of supplies sitting nearby, she grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to him. “Drink up,” she ordered.
Sitting back down, Martha waited until the man had drunk half the bottle, before speaking again. “Can I at least have your name, or are you going to be irrationally stubborn about that as well?”
She might be imagining things, but she was sure she saw a smile briefly flicker across the man’s face. “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he answered in an almost resigned tone of voice, like he expected her to recognize it.
“See, that wasn’t so hard,” she replied instead with a smile, extending her hand for him to shake. “Dr. Martha Jones.” Interrogation wasn’t her specialty, but she’d sat in enough of them during her time at UNIT to pick up a few tricks. If the direct approach wasn’t going to work, maybe a sideways approach would.
From the way Kenobi was raising his eyebrow at her and trying to hide a smile, the same thought had occurred to him as well.
“So, Dr. Jones,” he asked, watching Martha cautiously as she started packing up her supplies, “what brings you and your friend here to Felucia? I hope it wasn’t because your travel agent suggested it.”
“It was a spur of the moment decision,” Martha replied calmly, focused on making sure everything fit in the bag. So, she now had a name for the planet, that was good. “He’s rather fond of those.”
“Your friend’s taste in planets could use a little work,” Kenobi remarked, starting to sit up and ignoring Martha’s glare. “Still, I’m sure there are worse planets you could have visited.”
“Trust me, there are,” Martha replied, continuing to pack up her bag. It didn’t take long, however, and she quickly found herself anxiously glancing at the tangle of vegetation around them. She didn’t know why, but there was something that was making her uncomfortable. She felt too vulnerable here in this clearing, too easy to find with the wreck sending smoke up for all to see.
“Come on,” she told Kenobi, extending her hand to help him to his feet. “I think we should head back to my ship, away from your smoke signal.”
“I was under the perception that you didn’t want me to move,” he retorted, leveraging himself up.
“Are you normally this contrary?” Martha shot back, deflecting the question as best she could.
“Only on special occasions.”
It wasn’t a terribly long walk back to where they had parked the TARDIS, but Martha found herself having to resist the urge to jump at every little noise. It was almost like she was back walking the Earth, constantly having to be aware for Toclafane or the Master’s soldiers. Every sound was almost magnified to her hyper-alert senses. She hadn’t felt this wary going in, but something had changed. She didn’t know if it was finding the downed bike or Kenobi’s evasiveness, or what, but something was wrong.
“What’s that noise?” Martha hissed at Kenobi, stopping short when a faint stomping reached her ears.
“Get down!” Kenobi ordered her half a second later.
“What?”
“Just do it!” he demanded, drawing the cylinder from his belt and flicking it on. With a snap-hiss, a bright blue blue blade sprang into life, just as several spindly, brown robots emerged from the vegetation.
“There’s the Jedi,” one of them exclaimed, pointing its gun at them. “Blast him.”
Crouching low to the ground, covering her head with her arms, Martha watched as the robots fired off laser shots directed at Kenobi. Despite his recent injuries, he easily deflected the shots back at the shooters with deadly accuracy.
“What the bloody hell are those?” Martha asked, pointing at the downed robots as she slowly stood up. “And are they the reason you crashed your bike?”
“Those would be battle droids,” Kenobi replied, scanning the area before looking down at Martha. “And to make a long story short, yes they are.”
“Battle droids. Right.” She straightened her shoulders and met his eyes. “I think you should explain what exactly is going on here. Considering I was just shot at, I’m fairly sure the time for being annoyingly evasive has passed.”
His mouth quirked slightly as he answered, “Yes, I believe it has. Very well, Dr. Jones, shall we?”
Rating: PG
Summary: "'Come along, Jones', he said," Martha muttered to her wounded patient."'It'll be fun, Jones,' he said. His definition of fun clearly needs work."
Disclaimer: The BBC owns "Doctor Who" and related characters; Lucasfilm owns "Star Wars" and related characters; I own nothing.
Author's Notes: Written for sunriserooftops as a much belated entry for the 2011 WISHLIST_FIC challenge. The prompt was Martha Jones and Obi-Wan Kenobi, "Don't use time or words carelessly. Neither can be retrieved." The idea kinda ran away from me, so there's definitely a "to be continued" attached to this story.
"'Come along, Jones', he said," Martha muttered under her breath, but without any heat. "'It'll be fun, Jones,' he said," she continued, carefully wrapping her patient's burn wounds. She wiped her forehead with her arm, rocking back on her heels with a sigh. "His definition of fun clearly needs work," she told her unconscious companion. Behind her, a wrecked bike smoldered in the late afternoon sun, a stark contrast to the overgrown neon colored plants and fungi around her. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of acrid smoke, but didn't move. The Doctor had gone off to further investigate the strange planet they had landed on after helping her place a blanket underneath the wounded man, leaving Martha alone to treat her patient.
Martha had been working in her lab, analyzing some samples that Kate Stewart had sent over from UNIT for independent verification when she heard the familiar "whooshing" noise. Only, instead of the Doctor she was familiar with, a new face poked out of the TARDIS, dressed like a professor all in tweed and a bow-tie. That and a ridiculous looking gaucho hat.
"Hello, Martha Jones," he said, his eyes looking so much older in his younger face. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
She took everything in with one long look before meeting his gaze and raising her eyebrow. "Well, it wouldn't have been so long if you'd pick up the mobile I gave you."
He winced, and took a slight step back. "Yeah… I may have destroyed it while regenerating."
"Oh, this is a story I've got to hear."
A groan from her patient brought her back to the present. He was human, as far as she or the Doctor had been able to tell, his reddish hair and beard slightly singed. His clothes were unfamiliar, but that didn't bother Martha. You got used to those things when traveling with the Doctor. She didn’t know how long he’d been here before they found him, but given that the wreckage was still smoldering, it hopefully wasn’t too long.
"Woah, careful there," Martha cautioned the man, who was struggling to sit up. “Easy now.” She pressed her hand against his shoulder, using her position to leverage him back to the ground.
“You don’t understand, I need to help them,” he muttered, his eyes flying open as he struggled against her. Despite the fact he had just woken up, he was stronger than she expected him to be, and it was an effort to keep him down.
“You stop this right now, or else I sedate you!” Martha threatened the man. She glared at him, employing the same look she used on those agents she had to work with that questioned her authority. Slowly, the man stopped trying to move and lay back down on the blanket. “That’s better. Now, what happened?” She also wanted to ask where they were, but she didn’t want to alarm him any further.
“Well, I was in a speeder bike accident,” he began, ignoring Martha’s eyeroll at his statement of the obvious.
“Before that? Because I doubt your bike managed to crash itself.”
“You’d be surprised,” the man remarked wryly. “But I’m afraid I can’t fully answer your question at this time.”
“Really?” Martha asked, giving him another glare. “Can’t or won’t?”
“Does it really matter?”
“What about the ‘them’ you mentioned just a minute ago?” she continued, changing tactics. “What trouble are they in? My friend and I might be able to help, if you just tell me.”
“While I appreciate your offer of assistance,” the man replied in a stony tone of voice, “at this point I must decline.”
Resisting the urge to throw up her hands in exasperation, Martha stood up and brushed off her trousers. “Don’t move,” she told the frustrating man. Stalking over to the bundle of supplies sitting nearby, she grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to him. “Drink up,” she ordered.
Sitting back down, Martha waited until the man had drunk half the bottle, before speaking again. “Can I at least have your name, or are you going to be irrationally stubborn about that as well?”
She might be imagining things, but she was sure she saw a smile briefly flicker across the man’s face. “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he answered in an almost resigned tone of voice, like he expected her to recognize it.
“See, that wasn’t so hard,” she replied instead with a smile, extending her hand for him to shake. “Dr. Martha Jones.” Interrogation wasn’t her specialty, but she’d sat in enough of them during her time at UNIT to pick up a few tricks. If the direct approach wasn’t going to work, maybe a sideways approach would.
From the way Kenobi was raising his eyebrow at her and trying to hide a smile, the same thought had occurred to him as well.
“So, Dr. Jones,” he asked, watching Martha cautiously as she started packing up her supplies, “what brings you and your friend here to Felucia? I hope it wasn’t because your travel agent suggested it.”
“It was a spur of the moment decision,” Martha replied calmly, focused on making sure everything fit in the bag. So, she now had a name for the planet, that was good. “He’s rather fond of those.”
“Your friend’s taste in planets could use a little work,” Kenobi remarked, starting to sit up and ignoring Martha’s glare. “Still, I’m sure there are worse planets you could have visited.”
“Trust me, there are,” Martha replied, continuing to pack up her bag. It didn’t take long, however, and she quickly found herself anxiously glancing at the tangle of vegetation around them. She didn’t know why, but there was something that was making her uncomfortable. She felt too vulnerable here in this clearing, too easy to find with the wreck sending smoke up for all to see.
“Come on,” she told Kenobi, extending her hand to help him to his feet. “I think we should head back to my ship, away from your smoke signal.”
“I was under the perception that you didn’t want me to move,” he retorted, leveraging himself up.
“Are you normally this contrary?” Martha shot back, deflecting the question as best she could.
“Only on special occasions.”
It wasn’t a terribly long walk back to where they had parked the TARDIS, but Martha found herself having to resist the urge to jump at every little noise. It was almost like she was back walking the Earth, constantly having to be aware for Toclafane or the Master’s soldiers. Every sound was almost magnified to her hyper-alert senses. She hadn’t felt this wary going in, but something had changed. She didn’t know if it was finding the downed bike or Kenobi’s evasiveness, or what, but something was wrong.
“What’s that noise?” Martha hissed at Kenobi, stopping short when a faint stomping reached her ears.
“Get down!” Kenobi ordered her half a second later.
“What?”
“Just do it!” he demanded, drawing the cylinder from his belt and flicking it on. With a snap-hiss, a bright blue blue blade sprang into life, just as several spindly, brown robots emerged from the vegetation.
“There’s the Jedi,” one of them exclaimed, pointing its gun at them. “Blast him.”
Crouching low to the ground, covering her head with her arms, Martha watched as the robots fired off laser shots directed at Kenobi. Despite his recent injuries, he easily deflected the shots back at the shooters with deadly accuracy.
“What the bloody hell are those?” Martha asked, pointing at the downed robots as she slowly stood up. “And are they the reason you crashed your bike?”
“Those would be battle droids,” Kenobi replied, scanning the area before looking down at Martha. “And to make a long story short, yes they are.”
“Battle droids. Right.” She straightened her shoulders and met his eyes. “I think you should explain what exactly is going on here. Considering I was just shot at, I’m fairly sure the time for being annoyingly evasive has passed.”
His mouth quirked slightly as he answered, “Yes, I believe it has. Very well, Dr. Jones, shall we?”