For rude_not_ginger The Death's Spiral system.
Follows on from thisJack held fast to the controls of the ship as they plunged into hyperspace. The g-forces on his body pressed him into the chair, and he focused all of his attention on keeping the craft smooth and flying. He'd worry about just where it was they were going later
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But only too soon, they were slowing above the deserted planet. There was nothing pleasant about that world, not in all of the stories the Doctor had heard.
He nodded. "Named by some Tereliptian refugees. It was the only world people could go to when they were trying to outrun the Daleks. They didn't realize that the reason the Daleks didn't follow meant they probably didn't want to be there in the first place."
The Doctor flipped a few switches on the control panel. A small, red light blinked in the corner. "And there she is. Oh, look at her. All that damage, and she's still going strong."
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It didn't sound good, he thought. If the Daleks didn't want to go somewhere then neither did he. They were ruthless, and without fear, so if something frightened them, then it'd probably frighten Jack (unless it was the Doctor, of course).
Without a question on his identity or accusation in the last few minutes Jack could almost forget that the Doctor looks at him like a stranger, and turning his head back to him he nodded, "You know one day, Doctor, you can take me somewhere nice. Like a beach. Or a restaurant. And you can pay."
As the Doctor activated the control panel Jack glanced over and smiled. "Oh so you know she was damaged then eh?" He shook his head, trying to make light of the Doctor's memory loss.
"Shouldn't be too far," he said. "I'll take us down to the surface. Looks like there's a smooth ridge about a mile or so away. That should do."
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He could also feel it in how his muscles tightened and his skin crawled. She was on the surface there, and she was in pain, calling out for help. The light nature of Jack's voice wasn't lost on him, though, and he silently told himself that sure, he'd take Jack somewhere nice. At least he was trying to make things better.
He unbuckled himself from the chair and ran back towards the small kitchen. "A mile might take more than a day in that terrain," he warned Jack as he grabbed some metal forks and spoons and stuffed them into a sachel along with some bread. "But if it's the closest place, we'll make do."
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"Eat something before we open those doors," he said. "Any food begins to rot the moment it touches the air, and the last thing we need is to start wondering if we're there yet because of how hungry we are. And..."
He held up a long fishing spear he'd found in one of the sports cabinets. "Fishing equipment on a spaceship. Must be for the Tretarca cluster. Anyway. We'll need weapons. Though...considering I think the planet is uninhabited, I can't remember why we would..."
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"Eat something. Right." He nodded and stepped up and over towards the Doctor, pulling a sandwich from the side to eat in almost one bite.
"No," he said decisively and also with a mouthful of food. "I'll do the weapons. You do... whatever it is you do." He wasn't sure why he cared so much, but the Doctor was always so against weaponry that Jack didn't even like the idea of that changing ( ... )
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He chewed on his sandwich and gave Jack's gun a distasteful look. "I think we can stick with harpoons for a while. I'm not even sure why we should need them, I don't see any life signs. And, besides, the atmosphere doesn't have enough oxygen for a Webley."
Well, it did, but the Doctor didn't like guns. Even in a place like this, the idea of a gun made him ill. Too many people died carelessly with weapons. There had to be another way.
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He polished off the remainder of his sandwich and rubbed his hands together to discard the crumbs. "Fine," he sighed. "No guns then. Harpoons it is. You know I always did fancy myself as a Captain Ahab. Caught this thing in the bay once, about the size of three horses. You should have seen me."
Walking back over towards the pilots area he found an emergency kit. Inside it first aid and flares. "Bingo," he said. "This might be a good idea."
"So you ready to brave it then, Doctor?"
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He pulled the oxygen mask over his face. The cool air blew against his nose, even sweeter than the pre-conditioned room. Outside, though, he had a funny feeling it wouldn't be so sweet.
He put a hand to the door lever. "This isn't going to be pleasant, Jack, I'm sorry."
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He put the emergency kit and his empty gun in a rucksack that was stored in the same cabinet, and threw it over his shoulder before taking up one of the harpoons and putting it over his other arm.
"You can make it up to me later," he said as he came over to join him. "Oh, and you just called me Jack again."
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The Doctor tugged down the door lever and a blast of icy cold black wind blew into the cabin. The smell was foul, like death and rot and the sweaty people on the #6 bus; it permeated the safe, sweet air of the masks, though the oxygen was too high to infect their bodies. The plants began withering immediately, and large patches of carpet began shriveling up.
He handed the vortex manipulator to Jack. "In case we get separated, or if it's too late for the TARDIS, get out of here. That should get you out of this system, at least."
Not waiting for a reply, he took the first step outside. The torch only gave a dim, ten-foot glow around him through the rotting fog. The ground felt like crumbling ash beneath his feet, and he had to reach out an arm and steady himself to stay level.
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He looked where Jack pointed, to the spiky trees. "Charming," he agreed with Jack's earlier statement.
He took a few careful steps towards them. Sound seemed to get swallowed up in the darkness, and he found himself glancing back to make sure Jack was still there. It was very dark. Very quiet.
"Right," the Doctor said, startling even himself by the noise. "Tell me more about this Rose girl I have so little memory of." He really didn't care, as he'd remember once they got back to the TARDIS, he just needed to hear something other than his own breathing.
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A beat later he spoke again, louder this time and forceful too. "Don't you talk like that, you're not dying and neither is the TARDIS. You'll both be fine."
The ground was hard to walk on, a little like sand as it moved beneath each tread, making steps need to be more precise and with more effort as the ground crumbled underfoot.
"Rose? Oh she was something. Really something. Just an ordinary girl, Doctor. An ordinary girl from an ordinary estate in London. That's what made her so special. She was young, blonde, and she was... well she was Rose. She wasn't afraid to say what she thought needed saying or tell someone when they were wrong. You opened her eyes, Doctor. And I think maybe she opened yours a bit too. You were good for each other."
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"Blonde," he commented, approvingly. He always did fancy blondes. It had to have been something to do with meeting Madonna in his first incarnation, he was never the same after that. "But she keeps walking away." If they were so good for each other...well, it wasn't an unusual thing. He had many companions who were good for him that left him. He...he couldn't remember who.
He edged around another gaping crack in the ground, then stopped short as another, even larger crack appeared in front of him. It was at least five feet across as the light of the torch couldn't find the other side. It could've been an easy jump across, or it could've been miles and miles.
"What do you think?" he asked.
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