Held in Trust (28/29)
Title: Held in Trust: Chapter 28
Characters/Pairings: Ten II/Rose, alt!Donna, various Tylers and Motts, and several OCs
Rating: Teen
Series: Part of the Morris Minor 'Verse
Summary: A Ten II action/adventure fic, with sci-fi, a bit of romance, and alt!Donna. The Doctor, Rose and Donna investigate an apocalyptic death cult, with a whole boatload of unforeseen consequences, including time travel, a mysterious planet with burnt-orange sky, and a human empire gone horribly wrong.
Previous Chapters: Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23| Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27
From space, Cassiel looks like any other large, rocky planet. In orbit around a binary star, the radiation levels on its surface can be higher than is optimum for the evolution of a large amount of biodiversity. Scrubby plants, long, red grasses, and small burrowing creatures were all that the first human explorers found. It seemed that no intelligent life had emerged on this world, which made exploitation of its few resources both unimpeded by a long war of conquest, and expensive, due to the necessity of importing labour.
The sector administrators, whose responsibility it was to make a pronouncement about the status of Cassiel, nearly passed it by as unlikely to be worth the effort of colonisation. That is, until the discovery of aritanium, deep under the craggy, forbidding mountain ranges.
Then, the equation completely reversed.
Without aritanium, the Human Empire would collapse. Without it, the reactions that drive the space-folding engines of the great interstellar cruisers could not be contained; and so far no one had discovered a synthetic substitute. It was aritanium that supported the expansion of the Empire, delivered supplies to the fronts of its many wars, and carried beings of a thousand different species away from their home planets.
The element had only been discovered on a half a dozen planets, four of which were nearly exhausted of their supplies. The fifth aritanium-bearing planet was embroiled in a costly, never-ending civil war that had gone nuclear.
The sixth was Cassiel. Burnt-orange sky, plains of red grasses, snow-capped mountains, and a harsh, dry climate greeted the new labour force imported there. Hardly any of the billions and billions of residents of the Empire knew it, but Cassiel represented the only remaining means of maintaining the Imperial status quo.
The Doctor didn't know this either, when he developed his plan. For him, what he was about to do was simply the only thing that could be done. He desperately wanted to do more, and perhaps some day he'd figure out how, but with the limited time and resources at hand, there was not much choice.
***
The Doctor jiggled one last ball of wires inside the jury-rigged capsule, and it blinked to life.
"Fantastic!" he said, obviously pleased with himself.
"We could use you around the motor pool," Theris remarked, which was, perhaps, as close as he could come to a compliment.
The Doctor gestured expansively to the quietly humming pod. "Are we ready to make history?"
"No rebellion ever lasts for long, and we're just four people," Theris said. "Not even important people. Not even all human people."
"That sounds like more of a selling point to me," Elpis murmured, and Crede elbowed her.
"But all of you, united together, can fight back. With me around, of course." The Doctor brushed a bit of dust off of his lapel, with ample quantities of false nonchalance.
"Of course," Elpis echoed, her tone a bit sardonic around the edges.
"What makes you think any of this will do any good at all?" Theris asked. "There's a whole Empire out there."
The Doctor stepped away from the capsule, moving out of the multicoloured light it cast and into greater shadow as he approached Theris. The gloom made the sharp lines of his face come out into even greater relief. "Because I'm the Doctor, and that means something. Maybe not to you or anyone else on this planet, but somewhere, far away, there are people... I'd never be able to look in the eye again. I may not have the power any more, but I have the will."
Theris furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to speak, though seemingly unable to find quite the right words.
"Besides," the Doctor continued, with a considerably lighter tone, "just think about what could be. I mean, you had a whole life planned out, yeah?"
Theris nodded and Crede's heart gave a painful little squeeze at the memory of all those nights spent in bunks, dreaming of another life.
"You're not so old that you can't still have that. What did you want to do?"
"Uh... I dunno," Theris's voice was thin and reedy all of a sudden, and Crede knew he was lying. He did know, right down to the number of rooms in his house and what colour hair his perfect lifemate would have. "I was always good in the kitchen. Thought I might try starting a restaurant."
"Now, that sounds brilliant!" the Doctor said. "And a little house, or maybe a nice flat over top of your cafe? Husband or wife? Kids?"
Theris nodded and Crede saw a familiar, faraway look in his eye. It was almost too painful to watch, and he averted his eyes to where Elpis had been standing. Curious to see what she would make of the hopes and dreams of a hated guard, he turned to find himself now standing alone. Elpis had silently moved over to the open capsule and was inspecting its contents. She looked over her shoulder, saw him watching, and placed a finger over her lips.
"What are you doing?" Crede mouthed, but Elpis waved him off and then looked with great emphasis towards where the Doctor was still drawing the tiny details of a future life out of Theris. She seemed to want Crede to make sure the Doctor didn't turn back around too soon.
Crede was torn. Elpis had said that the Doctor couldn't stay. Not that she didn't want him to stay, or that he shouldn't stay, but that he could not. Crede didn't understand, and she hadn't been able to explain in terms that made any sense.
"Trust me," she said silently, then closed her eyes and laid her forehead against the side of the pod.
Theris was telling the Doctor about the various dishes that were his specialities, and the ingredients he could get from off-world that would make them so much better.
"We'll get you that Selenian Ginger." The Doctor laid his hands on Theris's shoulders and looked him deeply and directly in the eye. "I promise."
Crede darted his eyes back over to Elpis, who made a winding motion with her finger and several emphatic gestures with her head.
"I..." Crede stammered, "I don't know, Doctor." Of course, Crede had made the rather irreversible decision that his lot was cast with this stranger quite a while ago, but Elpis wanted more time, and he felt compelled to also do what she required. This was all beginning to create a rather painful sort of tightening in his chest. "What are you going to do?"
"Crede, lad, I thought you would never ask." He jammed his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath before launching into an explanation that, really, Crede only understood about half of. "It's quite simple, actually."
It wasn't.
Computer viruses; a very improbable-sounding coming-together of all castes in a spirit of friendship and mutual benefit; re-purposing the existing satellite network; and Crede could have sworn he heard the Doctor say something about a sun going supernova (though that may just have been a metaphor).
"But first," the Doctor continued, coming up for air only briefly, "we use the temporal energy stored in this-"
He turned around, gesturing towards the pod, and Crede's heart leapt into his throat, until he himself turned around and saw that Elpis was again demurely standing by his side-looking a good deal less like the canary and more like the cat that had had a meal.
"I'm going to move Cassiel out of normal time," the Doctor said.
Now, that Crede really did have to question. "What?"
"Can you do that?" Theris asked.
The Doctor sniffed and puffed out his chest. "Of course I can. I thought we already covered this. It won't be forever, just long enough to buy us time. To the rest of the Empire it'll look like Cassiel has completely disappeared. Anyone coming to look will just find empty space."
"For how long?" Elpis asked, and it seemed to Crede that it was rhetorical, masquerading as an innocent question.
"Well," the Doctor mused, scratching the back of his head, "long enough. It's not really an exact science. A while."
"A long while?"
"Maybe."
"And we'll be cut off." Elpis continued to probe, and Crede could see Theris's wheels spinning as well.
"That's sort of the point."
"You'll be stuck here with us," Crede said, cottoning on to the point Elpis was trying to make.
"Yes, again, the point. Please do try and keep up," the Doctor snapped. "Do you want my help or don't you?"
"I don't think you ever asked in the first place," Elpis said, drawing herself up in an attempt to seem much taller than she actually was. Her eyes flashed and she took several purposeful strides towards the man in the blue suit, who suddenly seemed very much unlike the Doctor Crede had put his faith in.
"You said you wanted your freedom, and you can't do it yourself-"
"Can't we?" Elpis stood directly in front of him, toe-to-toe. "You don't belong here."
"Nonsense. I was born on this planet, before any of your species had even evolved!"
He backed up a step, and she moved forward, pointing a feathery finger at his chest.
"I'm glad that I met you," she said, her voice softening, "but your presence here is wrong. Your own time is missing you. You were never supposed to be here." She took another step forwards, and he backed up another foot. Crede could see what she was doing, moving the Doctor closer to the capsule. His muscles tensed.
"Wait," Theris interjected, and Crede thought he was going to try and get in between Elpis and the Doctor. "We need him! He said so himself!"
"We can do this ourselves," Crede said, though he wasn't sure if he believed it.
"It's my responsibility!" the Doctor said, "I did this!" He turned his head to see that he was almost backed straight into the open, waiting chamber of the capsule.
Crede rushed forward to help Elpis push him in, and the Doctor was knocked to the ground briefly, his hands scrabbling in the dust for purchase. Crede towered over him, grabbed him under the arms and hauled him up, gathering all of his strength to actually lift him off the ground and thrust him inside the chamber.
"I'm sorry," Crede said, and he sprang back as Elpis punched a button inside the door, slammed it shut and locked the seals.
There was a hot wind that kicked up so much dust, they had to squeeze their eyes shut and duck their heads. When the worst of it seemed to be over, Crede opened his eyes to find the capsule, and the Doctor, gone.
***
"I just don't think faith is a good enough reason. I'm sorry, but there's too much at stake." Dr. Chaudhry folded her arms in a way that Donna found profoundly irritating. "Why don't you go back home and we'll call you if there's any change."
"I didn't say faith, I said trust. There's a difference." Rose squared her shoulders and made a little noise of frustration. "Right, I'm going to explain this one more time. Just look at your readings! The Doctor has disabled the device remotely, you can turn the time lock off now."
"But I don't see why that's so important. If the time lock is still functioning, there's no harm in keeping it active."
"Because," Rose said, in an exasperated tone that perfectly echoed the Doctor's when he was tired of explaining elementary concepts, "if the Doctor is trying to return to this location, in a time machine, then the time lock will interfere. I'm sure that's why he's not back yet."
"You know that it was never officially established that any of that ever happened," Dr. Chaudhry said coolly, and Donna had rather enough.
"Officially?" she sneered. "So, did Rose Tyler officially or unofficially save the lives of everyone on this planet by making that time lock even work in the first place?"
"Officially, Rose Tyler, Pete Tyler, this Doctor-and you, I might add-are not employees of the Torchwood Institute and have no standing in this matter." She picked up a nearby phone handset. "Security?"
***
The Time Vortex sang in his head, but without the harmonising chords of his TARDIS, it was dissonant, ugly, and growing uncomfortably loud. It had been just a matter of seconds since the capsule had rattled and shook violently all around him and he knew he'd been sent away. In the time it took for him to try and process why his companions had rejected him, and what he'd offered, he realised that something was wrong.
The Vortex grew more tumultuous, more deafening in his head, and still there was no end to it.
He lost track of up and down, his breath came in ragged bursts, he felt his head would explode with this roaring chaos, unable to shut it out or turn it down.
Alone. Lost in the sea of time that he had once ridden so cavalierly. He struggled to make sense of the instruments he shared the cramped space inside the capsule with, but his vision blurred and his hands shook uncontrollably.
Everything seemed to iris in on one blinking blue light right in front of him. He found he could do nothing but count the blinks. One, two, three... he felt like his skin would peel away from his bones... four, five... his stomach flopped over and over, not knowing which way was up, even if his Time Lord brain could at least make a guess... six... seven... he lost count.
And then he lost consciousness.
[ To Chapter 29 ]
Characters/Pairings: Ten II/Rose, alt!Donna, various Tylers and Motts, and several OCs
Rating: Teen
Series: Part of the Morris Minor 'Verse
Summary: A Ten II action/adventure fic, with sci-fi, a bit of romance, and alt!Donna. The Doctor, Rose and Donna investigate an apocalyptic death cult, with a whole boatload of unforeseen consequences, including time travel, a mysterious planet with burnt-orange sky, and a human empire gone horribly wrong.
Previous Chapters: Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23| Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27
From space, Cassiel looks like any other large, rocky planet. In orbit around a binary star, the radiation levels on its surface can be higher than is optimum for the evolution of a large amount of biodiversity. Scrubby plants, long, red grasses, and small burrowing creatures were all that the first human explorers found. It seemed that no intelligent life had emerged on this world, which made exploitation of its few resources both unimpeded by a long war of conquest, and expensive, due to the necessity of importing labour.
The sector administrators, whose responsibility it was to make a pronouncement about the status of Cassiel, nearly passed it by as unlikely to be worth the effort of colonisation. That is, until the discovery of aritanium, deep under the craggy, forbidding mountain ranges.
Then, the equation completely reversed.
Without aritanium, the Human Empire would collapse. Without it, the reactions that drive the space-folding engines of the great interstellar cruisers could not be contained; and so far no one had discovered a synthetic substitute. It was aritanium that supported the expansion of the Empire, delivered supplies to the fronts of its many wars, and carried beings of a thousand different species away from their home planets.
The element had only been discovered on a half a dozen planets, four of which were nearly exhausted of their supplies. The fifth aritanium-bearing planet was embroiled in a costly, never-ending civil war that had gone nuclear.
The sixth was Cassiel. Burnt-orange sky, plains of red grasses, snow-capped mountains, and a harsh, dry climate greeted the new labour force imported there. Hardly any of the billions and billions of residents of the Empire knew it, but Cassiel represented the only remaining means of maintaining the Imperial status quo.
The Doctor didn't know this either, when he developed his plan. For him, what he was about to do was simply the only thing that could be done. He desperately wanted to do more, and perhaps some day he'd figure out how, but with the limited time and resources at hand, there was not much choice.
***
The Doctor jiggled one last ball of wires inside the jury-rigged capsule, and it blinked to life.
"Fantastic!" he said, obviously pleased with himself.
"We could use you around the motor pool," Theris remarked, which was, perhaps, as close as he could come to a compliment.
The Doctor gestured expansively to the quietly humming pod. "Are we ready to make history?"
"No rebellion ever lasts for long, and we're just four people," Theris said. "Not even important people. Not even all human people."
"That sounds like more of a selling point to me," Elpis murmured, and Crede elbowed her.
"But all of you, united together, can fight back. With me around, of course." The Doctor brushed a bit of dust off of his lapel, with ample quantities of false nonchalance.
"Of course," Elpis echoed, her tone a bit sardonic around the edges.
"What makes you think any of this will do any good at all?" Theris asked. "There's a whole Empire out there."
The Doctor stepped away from the capsule, moving out of the multicoloured light it cast and into greater shadow as he approached Theris. The gloom made the sharp lines of his face come out into even greater relief. "Because I'm the Doctor, and that means something. Maybe not to you or anyone else on this planet, but somewhere, far away, there are people... I'd never be able to look in the eye again. I may not have the power any more, but I have the will."
Theris furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to speak, though seemingly unable to find quite the right words.
"Besides," the Doctor continued, with a considerably lighter tone, "just think about what could be. I mean, you had a whole life planned out, yeah?"
Theris nodded and Crede's heart gave a painful little squeeze at the memory of all those nights spent in bunks, dreaming of another life.
"You're not so old that you can't still have that. What did you want to do?"
"Uh... I dunno," Theris's voice was thin and reedy all of a sudden, and Crede knew he was lying. He did know, right down to the number of rooms in his house and what colour hair his perfect lifemate would have. "I was always good in the kitchen. Thought I might try starting a restaurant."
"Now, that sounds brilliant!" the Doctor said. "And a little house, or maybe a nice flat over top of your cafe? Husband or wife? Kids?"
Theris nodded and Crede saw a familiar, faraway look in his eye. It was almost too painful to watch, and he averted his eyes to where Elpis had been standing. Curious to see what she would make of the hopes and dreams of a hated guard, he turned to find himself now standing alone. Elpis had silently moved over to the open capsule and was inspecting its contents. She looked over her shoulder, saw him watching, and placed a finger over her lips.
"What are you doing?" Crede mouthed, but Elpis waved him off and then looked with great emphasis towards where the Doctor was still drawing the tiny details of a future life out of Theris. She seemed to want Crede to make sure the Doctor didn't turn back around too soon.
Crede was torn. Elpis had said that the Doctor couldn't stay. Not that she didn't want him to stay, or that he shouldn't stay, but that he could not. Crede didn't understand, and she hadn't been able to explain in terms that made any sense.
"Trust me," she said silently, then closed her eyes and laid her forehead against the side of the pod.
Theris was telling the Doctor about the various dishes that were his specialities, and the ingredients he could get from off-world that would make them so much better.
"We'll get you that Selenian Ginger." The Doctor laid his hands on Theris's shoulders and looked him deeply and directly in the eye. "I promise."
Crede darted his eyes back over to Elpis, who made a winding motion with her finger and several emphatic gestures with her head.
"I..." Crede stammered, "I don't know, Doctor." Of course, Crede had made the rather irreversible decision that his lot was cast with this stranger quite a while ago, but Elpis wanted more time, and he felt compelled to also do what she required. This was all beginning to create a rather painful sort of tightening in his chest. "What are you going to do?"
"Crede, lad, I thought you would never ask." He jammed his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath before launching into an explanation that, really, Crede only understood about half of. "It's quite simple, actually."
It wasn't.
Computer viruses; a very improbable-sounding coming-together of all castes in a spirit of friendship and mutual benefit; re-purposing the existing satellite network; and Crede could have sworn he heard the Doctor say something about a sun going supernova (though that may just have been a metaphor).
"But first," the Doctor continued, coming up for air only briefly, "we use the temporal energy stored in this-"
He turned around, gesturing towards the pod, and Crede's heart leapt into his throat, until he himself turned around and saw that Elpis was again demurely standing by his side-looking a good deal less like the canary and more like the cat that had had a meal.
"I'm going to move Cassiel out of normal time," the Doctor said.
Now, that Crede really did have to question. "What?"
"Can you do that?" Theris asked.
The Doctor sniffed and puffed out his chest. "Of course I can. I thought we already covered this. It won't be forever, just long enough to buy us time. To the rest of the Empire it'll look like Cassiel has completely disappeared. Anyone coming to look will just find empty space."
"For how long?" Elpis asked, and it seemed to Crede that it was rhetorical, masquerading as an innocent question.
"Well," the Doctor mused, scratching the back of his head, "long enough. It's not really an exact science. A while."
"A long while?"
"Maybe."
"And we'll be cut off." Elpis continued to probe, and Crede could see Theris's wheels spinning as well.
"That's sort of the point."
"You'll be stuck here with us," Crede said, cottoning on to the point Elpis was trying to make.
"Yes, again, the point. Please do try and keep up," the Doctor snapped. "Do you want my help or don't you?"
"I don't think you ever asked in the first place," Elpis said, drawing herself up in an attempt to seem much taller than she actually was. Her eyes flashed and she took several purposeful strides towards the man in the blue suit, who suddenly seemed very much unlike the Doctor Crede had put his faith in.
"You said you wanted your freedom, and you can't do it yourself-"
"Can't we?" Elpis stood directly in front of him, toe-to-toe. "You don't belong here."
"Nonsense. I was born on this planet, before any of your species had even evolved!"
He backed up a step, and she moved forward, pointing a feathery finger at his chest.
"I'm glad that I met you," she said, her voice softening, "but your presence here is wrong. Your own time is missing you. You were never supposed to be here." She took another step forwards, and he backed up another foot. Crede could see what she was doing, moving the Doctor closer to the capsule. His muscles tensed.
"Wait," Theris interjected, and Crede thought he was going to try and get in between Elpis and the Doctor. "We need him! He said so himself!"
"We can do this ourselves," Crede said, though he wasn't sure if he believed it.
"It's my responsibility!" the Doctor said, "I did this!" He turned his head to see that he was almost backed straight into the open, waiting chamber of the capsule.
Crede rushed forward to help Elpis push him in, and the Doctor was knocked to the ground briefly, his hands scrabbling in the dust for purchase. Crede towered over him, grabbed him under the arms and hauled him up, gathering all of his strength to actually lift him off the ground and thrust him inside the chamber.
"I'm sorry," Crede said, and he sprang back as Elpis punched a button inside the door, slammed it shut and locked the seals.
There was a hot wind that kicked up so much dust, they had to squeeze their eyes shut and duck their heads. When the worst of it seemed to be over, Crede opened his eyes to find the capsule, and the Doctor, gone.
***
"I just don't think faith is a good enough reason. I'm sorry, but there's too much at stake." Dr. Chaudhry folded her arms in a way that Donna found profoundly irritating. "Why don't you go back home and we'll call you if there's any change."
"I didn't say faith, I said trust. There's a difference." Rose squared her shoulders and made a little noise of frustration. "Right, I'm going to explain this one more time. Just look at your readings! The Doctor has disabled the device remotely, you can turn the time lock off now."
"But I don't see why that's so important. If the time lock is still functioning, there's no harm in keeping it active."
"Because," Rose said, in an exasperated tone that perfectly echoed the Doctor's when he was tired of explaining elementary concepts, "if the Doctor is trying to return to this location, in a time machine, then the time lock will interfere. I'm sure that's why he's not back yet."
"You know that it was never officially established that any of that ever happened," Dr. Chaudhry said coolly, and Donna had rather enough.
"Officially?" she sneered. "So, did Rose Tyler officially or unofficially save the lives of everyone on this planet by making that time lock even work in the first place?"
"Officially, Rose Tyler, Pete Tyler, this Doctor-and you, I might add-are not employees of the Torchwood Institute and have no standing in this matter." She picked up a nearby phone handset. "Security?"
***
The Time Vortex sang in his head, but without the harmonising chords of his TARDIS, it was dissonant, ugly, and growing uncomfortably loud. It had been just a matter of seconds since the capsule had rattled and shook violently all around him and he knew he'd been sent away. In the time it took for him to try and process why his companions had rejected him, and what he'd offered, he realised that something was wrong.
The Vortex grew more tumultuous, more deafening in his head, and still there was no end to it.
He lost track of up and down, his breath came in ragged bursts, he felt his head would explode with this roaring chaos, unable to shut it out or turn it down.
Alone. Lost in the sea of time that he had once ridden so cavalierly. He struggled to make sense of the instruments he shared the cramped space inside the capsule with, but his vision blurred and his hands shook uncontrollably.
Everything seemed to iris in on one blinking blue light right in front of him. He found he could do nothing but count the blinks. One, two, three... he felt like his skin would peel away from his bones... four, five... his stomach flopped over and over, not knowing which way was up, even if his Time Lord brain could at least make a guess... six... seven... he lost count.
And then he lost consciousness.
[ To Chapter 29 ]