The first battle had raged for nearly twelve hours before the order sounded to pull back. The Daleks had been ready for them, somehow. They'd opened fire as soon as the first wave materialized out of the Vortex. Twenty-three TARDISes had been destroyed in the first eight minutes. In total, they'd lost two hundred and thirty-four TARDISes --
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Comments 27
If it hadn't been the Doctor that'd asked, she might not have gone at all.
But she's never quite learned how to say no.
Bother.
So she comes, after making a half-hearted attempt at cleaning up to meet the 'almost acceptable' range, her bepatched bomber's coat still intact despite everything.
Half of her class is gone. She's trying not to think about it. With limited success.
"Olly-olly-oxen-free, anyone home?" This is Ace, giving the finger to propriety and all that jazz.
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"Hi, Ace," he says tiredly. "The others should be along in a minute."
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None of them do.
There's a lot of things she wants to say. Things like 'glad you're still you'.
Things like 'if I didn't have it from your own mouth this ends at some point, I'd be about ready to walk out into the Vortex'.
Things like 'I'm scared, Professor'.
Instead, she surveys the room, stuffs her hands in her pockets, and meanders deeper into the ship.
"M'goin' t'get tea. Lots of tea." Some things just become habit after a while.
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The other four Time Lords are assembled by the time she gets back -- three Gallifreyans and a felinoid. None of them appear to be in much better shape than Ace or the Doctor.
At least the fires are out.
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