Crime And Punishment (Part 1/?)
Title: Crime And Punishment
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Martha
Spoilers: General Series 3 and the Audiobook / Webcast ‘Shada’
Summary: On the way to celebratory meal on Barcelona, the TARDIS is pulled off-course to Shada. Surely the Time Lord’s prison planet should have died with them?
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. If I ask nicely, do you think I'll get it for Christmas?
Crime And Punishment
Part One
“I know old girl, I know.”
The Doctor soothed the TARDIS, cooing slightly as it groaned through the region of space it had never been fond of; even less so since the time war. This area had long since been forgotten about; never mind visited. Unless you were a wrong-doer and being sent here for punishment, you rarely needed to pass through this place. Unless, of course, you were headed towards Barcelona. And that was exactly where he was taking Martha Jones - Doctor Martha Jones. Not only did they have the whole dogs-with-no-noses but also the most excellent tapas restaurant in this area of the galaxy.
“What’s wrong Doctor?”
“She just doesn’t like this place.”
“Then why come here?”
“Quickest route to Barcelona.”
With a disgruntled shift in patterns, the TARDIS suddenly lurched, sending her passengers sprawling across the floor. With a quick check that nothing was bruised, except perhaps pride, the Doctor scrambled up to the console, fiddling with buttons as the TARDIS settled into its landing position.
“What happened?” Martha uttered breathlessly. “Where are we?”
“No… but I thought…” He looked at her stunned. “That’s impossible.”
“I thought you liked impossible?”
“Well…”
She had wandered to the door and had placed a hand gently on the handle. After all, they had landed and since when had the Doctor backed out of an investigation? The TARDIS had obviously been drawn to this place so surely there was some need for them to be here? The Doctor nodded in agreement as Martha tentatively opened the door to be greeted with a decrepit reception; all crumbling infrastructure and aged technology, well in need of some care of attention.
“So?”
“Martha Jones, welcome, I guess, to Shada.”
“Shada?”
“It’s Time Lord…” The Doctor swallowed as his companion stared at him. “It’s a prison planet. And obviously, it survived.”
“Great, so the TARDIS has been drawn to a place that could well be filled to the rafters with megalomaniacs and murderers?”
“Well…” He started. “Let’s have a look shall we?”
The computing system, though currently defunct was essentially intact. And for someone equipped with a sonic screwdriver, it took the Doctor about half a minute to get the console into a state that would give him all the information he would require.
“You know, everyone who breaks into this place is automatically disintegrated?”
“And we’re still alive because we were drawn here?”
“Nah, the system’s too crude for that. We’re still ‘unauthorised visitors’. Probably because all solely Time Lord Technology has been wiped out and everything that’s left is originally descended from other cultures.”
“So is there anyone else on board?”
“I don’t think…” He paused as the computer bleeped at him. “Yes.”
“Is that a good or bad thing?”
“I don’t know.”
Encouraging her to sit down on the bench, assuring her it would not collapse; he explained. How Shada was a prison planet deemed only for the worst kind of criminals, how Rassilon had designed protection to ensure that normal Gallifreyan civilians - and eventually even those higher up forgot about it. The time that he had wound up here with Romana, chasing Saleyavin (who turned out to be dear old Professor Chronotis). The types of prisoners that would have graced the cells, their crimes, their punishments. After all the punishment for trespassing on a forgotten planet was severe enough - he wasn’t sure how he, Romana and their company at the time had avoided it.
“So what you’re saying is…” Martha weighed up the facts. “Potential survivor - you may no longer be the last of your kind, but also they’ll probably be essentially evil.”
“No, well… maybe. Saleyavin is, was, brilliant. But probably, yes. And there was the odd non-Gallifreyan prisoner too.”
“Is there any chance they’ll have changed after all this time?”
“Well… I suppose. But that wasn’t the Time Lords’ theory. Hence the whole ‘lock the door and throw away the key’ style of the place. But you know, without them.” An anguished look passed across his face. “I thought this planet would have been essentially redundant. A hole.”
“Still worth finding out who it is though?”
“The system is meant to tell us.” He whacked it with his fist, to no avail. “Alright, yes.”
Martha wondered what they would do if the Doctor didn’t actually have the sonic screwdriver as he pocketed it and they passed through the now unlocked door. He had fallen into an unusually silent demeanour; but that wasn’t entirely surprising. The implications of this were huge - again. And having just dealt with loosing the Master and now having to comprehend that he wasn’t the last of the Time Lords, again, well it’s enough to justify anyone falling into deep silence. But of course, it was entirely likely that the sole survivor of Shada wasn’t of Gallifreyan descent - the Doctor had already admitted that other criminals had been held here.
The continued trekking onwards through the deserted prison planet with no luck as such. The winding corridors continually appeared to reveal yet more empty pods, in varying states of decay. It was obvious some of the cells would never be capable of holding a prisoner again, yet some would still have more use at their designed function. She had questioned tracking down this mystery survivor with the faithful sonic, but the Doctor had explained that the pods were protected and the prisoners were all kept in a state equivalent to stasis so there would be no signals to be able to pick them up with. So onwards they continued, tension mounting, absence of conversation and an almost lack of sound bar the few remaining viable machines that were still ticking over.
“Technically, I’m surprised I never wound up in this place.”
“What?”
Hearing him talk after such a long time and referring to himself having potentially having to carry out a sentence in Shada was altogether shocking. The Doctor, who had saved so many people, so very many times. How could he have done something that could have justified sending putting him into a forgotten prison planet? Apart from the whole Genocide thing. But surely that was for the greater good?
“I’ve always been a renegade.” He replied. “And I avoided Presidency. Twice.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You were thinking about it.”
“But seriously, that’s serious enough for Shada?”
“Martha, our society was always so… archaic. I’m a rebel. And it was my duty to take the position of Presidency and I ran. Because I was scared and because I didn’t know what to do with it. Yes I wanted change, but you really think I could bring it to that kind of society?”
“Why not?”
“I can’t clean things up.” He muttered. “Trouble finds me, I stop it, I move on.”
Unable to reply, mouth drying up considerably quickly, Martha just gave a sharp nod and returned to silence. The strappy sandals she had chosen to wear for her celebratory meal on Barcelona were beginning to dig in. Then again, that wasn’t exactly her fault. She hadn’t expected to go traipsing around a deserted, dilapidated prison for a single surviving prisoner. Still, at least it was quiet and they weren’t going at a pace for a change.
However, having now thought that, the Doctor’s pace had indeed quickened and as she hurried behind him, it soon became apparent why. Faint lights, obviously where the system was focussing its energy was streaming into the semi-darkness they had been wandering through. Her heart skipped a beat and she licked her lips in anticipation; she had no idea how the Doctor was feeling, but this was exciting - there was hope for the Time Lords yet. Although, knowing their luck, having wandered all this way (she cursed as she tripped over a crack in floor) it was probably going to land up being a Dalek or a Plasmavore or something.
“No…”
She heard him faintly whisper and turned the corner to see him crouching at the base of the prisoner’s pod. This mystery person alone on a desolate planet, prison. His hand was placed gently upon the glassy front of the individual’s cell. As the Doctor heard Martha’s footsteps, he turned his head and looked at her forlornly, a single tear coursing its way down his cheek.
Part Two
Author: tromana
Rating: T
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Martha
Spoilers: General Series 3 and the Audiobook / Webcast ‘Shada’
Summary: On the way to celebratory meal on Barcelona, the TARDIS is pulled off-course to Shada. Surely the Time Lord’s prison planet should have died with them?
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. If I ask nicely, do you think I'll get it for Christmas?
Crime And Punishment
Part One
“I know old girl, I know.”
The Doctor soothed the TARDIS, cooing slightly as it groaned through the region of space it had never been fond of; even less so since the time war. This area had long since been forgotten about; never mind visited. Unless you were a wrong-doer and being sent here for punishment, you rarely needed to pass through this place. Unless, of course, you were headed towards Barcelona. And that was exactly where he was taking Martha Jones - Doctor Martha Jones. Not only did they have the whole dogs-with-no-noses but also the most excellent tapas restaurant in this area of the galaxy.
“What’s wrong Doctor?”
“She just doesn’t like this place.”
“Then why come here?”
“Quickest route to Barcelona.”
With a disgruntled shift in patterns, the TARDIS suddenly lurched, sending her passengers sprawling across the floor. With a quick check that nothing was bruised, except perhaps pride, the Doctor scrambled up to the console, fiddling with buttons as the TARDIS settled into its landing position.
“What happened?” Martha uttered breathlessly. “Where are we?”
“No… but I thought…” He looked at her stunned. “That’s impossible.”
“I thought you liked impossible?”
“Well…”
She had wandered to the door and had placed a hand gently on the handle. After all, they had landed and since when had the Doctor backed out of an investigation? The TARDIS had obviously been drawn to this place so surely there was some need for them to be here? The Doctor nodded in agreement as Martha tentatively opened the door to be greeted with a decrepit reception; all crumbling infrastructure and aged technology, well in need of some care of attention.
“So?”
“Martha Jones, welcome, I guess, to Shada.”
“Shada?”
“It’s Time Lord…” The Doctor swallowed as his companion stared at him. “It’s a prison planet. And obviously, it survived.”
“Great, so the TARDIS has been drawn to a place that could well be filled to the rafters with megalomaniacs and murderers?”
“Well…” He started. “Let’s have a look shall we?”
The computing system, though currently defunct was essentially intact. And for someone equipped with a sonic screwdriver, it took the Doctor about half a minute to get the console into a state that would give him all the information he would require.
“You know, everyone who breaks into this place is automatically disintegrated?”
“And we’re still alive because we were drawn here?”
“Nah, the system’s too crude for that. We’re still ‘unauthorised visitors’. Probably because all solely Time Lord Technology has been wiped out and everything that’s left is originally descended from other cultures.”
“So is there anyone else on board?”
“I don’t think…” He paused as the computer bleeped at him. “Yes.”
“Is that a good or bad thing?”
“I don’t know.”
Encouraging her to sit down on the bench, assuring her it would not collapse; he explained. How Shada was a prison planet deemed only for the worst kind of criminals, how Rassilon had designed protection to ensure that normal Gallifreyan civilians - and eventually even those higher up forgot about it. The time that he had wound up here with Romana, chasing Saleyavin (who turned out to be dear old Professor Chronotis). The types of prisoners that would have graced the cells, their crimes, their punishments. After all the punishment for trespassing on a forgotten planet was severe enough - he wasn’t sure how he, Romana and their company at the time had avoided it.
“So what you’re saying is…” Martha weighed up the facts. “Potential survivor - you may no longer be the last of your kind, but also they’ll probably be essentially evil.”
“No, well… maybe. Saleyavin is, was, brilliant. But probably, yes. And there was the odd non-Gallifreyan prisoner too.”
“Is there any chance they’ll have changed after all this time?”
“Well… I suppose. But that wasn’t the Time Lords’ theory. Hence the whole ‘lock the door and throw away the key’ style of the place. But you know, without them.” An anguished look passed across his face. “I thought this planet would have been essentially redundant. A hole.”
“Still worth finding out who it is though?”
“The system is meant to tell us.” He whacked it with his fist, to no avail. “Alright, yes.”
Martha wondered what they would do if the Doctor didn’t actually have the sonic screwdriver as he pocketed it and they passed through the now unlocked door. He had fallen into an unusually silent demeanour; but that wasn’t entirely surprising. The implications of this were huge - again. And having just dealt with loosing the Master and now having to comprehend that he wasn’t the last of the Time Lords, again, well it’s enough to justify anyone falling into deep silence. But of course, it was entirely likely that the sole survivor of Shada wasn’t of Gallifreyan descent - the Doctor had already admitted that other criminals had been held here.
The continued trekking onwards through the deserted prison planet with no luck as such. The winding corridors continually appeared to reveal yet more empty pods, in varying states of decay. It was obvious some of the cells would never be capable of holding a prisoner again, yet some would still have more use at their designed function. She had questioned tracking down this mystery survivor with the faithful sonic, but the Doctor had explained that the pods were protected and the prisoners were all kept in a state equivalent to stasis so there would be no signals to be able to pick them up with. So onwards they continued, tension mounting, absence of conversation and an almost lack of sound bar the few remaining viable machines that were still ticking over.
“Technically, I’m surprised I never wound up in this place.”
“What?”
Hearing him talk after such a long time and referring to himself having potentially having to carry out a sentence in Shada was altogether shocking. The Doctor, who had saved so many people, so very many times. How could he have done something that could have justified sending putting him into a forgotten prison planet? Apart from the whole Genocide thing. But surely that was for the greater good?
“I’ve always been a renegade.” He replied. “And I avoided Presidency. Twice.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You were thinking about it.”
“But seriously, that’s serious enough for Shada?”
“Martha, our society was always so… archaic. I’m a rebel. And it was my duty to take the position of Presidency and I ran. Because I was scared and because I didn’t know what to do with it. Yes I wanted change, but you really think I could bring it to that kind of society?”
“Why not?”
“I can’t clean things up.” He muttered. “Trouble finds me, I stop it, I move on.”
Unable to reply, mouth drying up considerably quickly, Martha just gave a sharp nod and returned to silence. The strappy sandals she had chosen to wear for her celebratory meal on Barcelona were beginning to dig in. Then again, that wasn’t exactly her fault. She hadn’t expected to go traipsing around a deserted, dilapidated prison for a single surviving prisoner. Still, at least it was quiet and they weren’t going at a pace for a change.
However, having now thought that, the Doctor’s pace had indeed quickened and as she hurried behind him, it soon became apparent why. Faint lights, obviously where the system was focussing its energy was streaming into the semi-darkness they had been wandering through. Her heart skipped a beat and she licked her lips in anticipation; she had no idea how the Doctor was feeling, but this was exciting - there was hope for the Time Lords yet. Although, knowing their luck, having wandered all this way (she cursed as she tripped over a crack in floor) it was probably going to land up being a Dalek or a Plasmavore or something.
“No…”
She heard him faintly whisper and turned the corner to see him crouching at the base of the prisoner’s pod. This mystery person alone on a desolate planet, prison. His hand was placed gently upon the glassy front of the individual’s cell. As the Doctor heard Martha’s footsteps, he turned his head and looked at her forlornly, a single tear coursing its way down his cheek.
Part Two