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neveralarchSo Far Exceeds Expression, 3/5
(alternate title: Covered in Blood)
Doctor Who, Classic Series AU
Rating: PG-13 as a whole
(this chapter: violence, swearing, more awkward innuendo, and girls kissing.
As a whole: violence, PG rated slash, femslash, and het. Small children.)
Pairings and characters (this chapter): Two/AU!Master, slight Two/War Chief, Zoe/Jenny (OFC/historical personage), Jamie, various historical personages, various characters from War Games.
Wordcount (this chapter): about 6,500
Summary: The Doctor encounters yet another old friend, and has to put up with his nefarious plans as well. Meanwhile, Koschei gets himself into a jam and has to figure out how to get out of it.
A/N: The halfway point in my odd, historical fiction reimagining of the War Games. Credit for the plot to steal the Crown Jewels goes to Colonel Thomas Blood, as does credit for some of his dialogue in this chapter. A few lines of dialogue are similarly from the War Games (written by Malcolm Hulke and Terrance Dicks). Thanks again to my beta,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
birdsarecalling, who approved my femslash and showed me where my sentences had gotten too confusing. Written for the best_enemies bigbang challenge.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One | Chapter Two
"Run faster," shouted the Colonel. "We're nearly to the outer walls!"
Jamie and Perrott merely puffed in response. Together, the group wheeled to run straight out of the inner courtyard. The pair of men chasing them duly changed direction, trying to catch up.
"Stop them!" screamed the darker-haired one, his voice strong despite the pace. A guard looked down from one of the towers, but the Colonel drew his pistol and fired at him without stopping. The bullet missed, ricocheting off the tower, and the guard threw himself down, hands covering his head.
"Come on," said the Colonel, keeping his pistol in his hands. The three hurried through the gate and they were across the drawbridge and into the outer walls. The guard on the other side of the bridge ducked out of the way at the sight of them.
"Where now?" said Jamie, panting. "Out the way we came?"
"They'll be expecting that," growled the Colonel. "Around the side, hurry."
"Why would they be expecting that?" complained Jamie. The gate they had come in was close, and now unguarded. But he followed all the same.
They ran as fast as they could to the Iron Gate, but their pursuers stayed with them all the way. No one stopped them, however, and soon they were bursting out onto a busy wharf.
"Fish!" screamed a woman.
"Eels!" shouted another.
"Help, he's got a gun!" shrieked a fisherman. The Colonel shoved him away, secreting the pistol back under his cloak.
"They're gaining," said Jamie, glancing back.
"Blood, we can't move quickly enough through these crowds," muttered Perrott.
"I've got a plan," said the Colonel, still trying to move forward, despite the press of people. "How close are they?"
"Close," said Jamie. "Very close."
The Colonel whirled around, face set in a comically over-exaggerated mask of dismay.
"Stop those thieves!" he shouted, one arm gesturing wildly at the blond and the dark-haired man. The crowd turned, as a unit, staring in their direction. The pair stood still with shock. A few burly heroes stepped toward them, looking dark.
"Steal from a parson, will you?"
"You ought to be ashamed."
"That'll keep them busy for a bit," said the Colonel. "Hurry, let's get out of here."
---
The vibrations of the ship died away, leaving everything quiet, for a moment, before the noise of men moving broke the silence. The sailors seemed to be disembarking.
"I think we've landed," said the Doctor, starting toward the door of the little room. "Let's go and see."
"Shouldn't we wait to make sure everyone's off the ship?" asked Zoe, but she didn't move to stop the Doctor as he opened the door.
"If we wait too long, the ship might dematerialize again. No, we'll risk it. Come along."
The Doctor, Zoe, and Jenny snuck through the ship's corridors, seeing no one. Finally, they came to the outer door.
"Hopefully any guards will be busy with the sailors," said the Doctor. "Let me just see if I can operate these door controls-" He fiddled for a moment with a panel, moving the cut-out shapes into a new configuration. The door slowly eased open, and Jenny stuck her head out.
"No one out here," she called. "Looks deserted."
"Very good," said the Doctor. "Let's find somewhere for you girls to hide, while I go find out what's going on."
"What?" said Zoe. "We're coming with you."
The Doctor shook his head.
"Zoe, this is all very dangerous. Anyway, there's someone I need to talk to, alone. I'd be much happier if I knew you and Jenny were safe."
"I don't see how we'll be very safe here," said Jenny. "Where are we, anyway?"
"I think it's a space station," said the Doctor. "It's certainly built like one. And, if I'm at all familiar with the design, I should be able to find a- hm." The Doctor walked toward one wall in the docking bay, then turned in the opposite direction and to another wall. He felt its panels one by one until he found a piece that gave a satisfying click and swung open.
"There you are," he said. "One hiding place, ready-made."
Zoe peered inside.
"Doctor, it's a boiler room."
"Well?"
"Oh, fine," said Zoe. She stepped in, followed by Jenny, who stared at the piping and the huge water boiler.
"Does the door open from the inside?" asked Jenny, not seeing a handle.
"Yes, yes," said the Doctor. "Just press it with both hands, and it will swing out. Now, be quiet, and I'll be back as soon as I can."
"You had better be," said Zoe, still eyeing the room with distaste.
The Doctor shut the door and hurried away.
"There aren't any lights in here," observed Jenny.
"I can't believe he left us alone and in the dark," said Zoe. "This is the worst metaphor."
---
"There're horses there," said Jamie, pointing to a nearby hitching post with a few mares and geldings standing by it.
"Right," said the Colonel. "Grab them, we haven't got long."
"You are right, you do not," said a man behind them, his voice accented with Nordic tones. The blond had escaped the mob, though not without damage. One eye was blackened, and his nose bled freely as his hands reached for the Colonel's throat.
"Run, boys," said the Colonel, fumbling in his cloak for his pistol.
Perrott went to mount a horse, but Jamie held back, torn between helping the Colonel and getting out of there to find the Doctor. While he hesitated, the pistol went off into the air, and the blond tore it from the Colonel's hands.
"Where is the crown?" he snarled. He reeled back as the Colonel belted him across the face with his bag of loot. The blond grabbed at it, blindly, and then they began to struggle for the bag, lashing out at each other until they fell, rolling on the cobbles.
The confusion startled the horses at the hitching post, and several tried to get away, tugging at their reins. Perrott yelped as he was thrown by his rearing horse. He scrambled up and tried to run before being stopped by the dark-haired man.
"You nearly killed my father, you piece of scum."
"I'll try harder next time," sniggered Perrott automatically, before going down from a knee in the groin. Even as he fell, Edwards' son yelped, hopping on one foot and clutching his knee.
"What the hell do you keep in your trousers, blaggard?" He bent down and tore Perrott's belt away, keeping Perrott's hands pinned as he recovered.
The heroes from the mob approached, apparently having been convinced of who the real thieves were. Jamie weighed up the odds quickly and then threw himself at the men anyway.
"Creag an tuire!"
The fight didn't last long, and soon Jamie was face-down on the cobbles, along with Perrot and the Colonel.
"Oh, well," said the Colonel, grinning through blood and the mud of the ground. "It was a gallant attempt, though unsuccessful. It was for a crown, after all."
"A crown that you smashed to pieces, you scoundrel," said the young Edwards, looking into the sack of loot. "And that son of a bitch," he pointed at Perrott, "stuck the King's orb down his britches."
"I can only speak for what I myself looted, but I think you'll find the crown has merely been flattened," said the Colonel, archly. The blond man rolled his eyes and forced the Colonel's face further into the mud.
---
The Doctor navigated the corridors of the space station, looking for a helpful sign saying "War Chief's Office." He'd had some trouble at first with guards trying to stop him, which had necessitated some fast talking. After that, however, he liberated a pair of the slit-visors that everyone was wearing, and the people of the space station ignored him in favor of their assigned tasks.
A tall man in a white coat was tinkering with some sort of machine. The Doctor stopped and quietly offered a few pieces of advice on wiring, before asking directions.
"Just down the corridor, on the left, you can't miss it," said the tall man. "Good luck."
"Oh, thank you," said the Doctor, smiling. The full effect was rather lost with his eyes covered, but the tall man smiled back all the same.
The Doctor walked down the corridor and knocked on the door on the left.
"Enter," said a voice. It was sharp and cold, and very familiar to the Doctor, just as the face on the viewscreen had been. Magnus, at least, hadn't regenerated since he'd seen him last.
The Doctor stepped through the opening door, removing his slit-visor at the same time.
"What is it?" asked Magnus, not looking up from his papers. He was even wearing the same giant medallion that he had taken to during academy.
"Just what do you think you are doing?" said the Doctor, determined to start things off on the proper note of indignation.
"Theta?" Magnus' eyes darted up immediately, and he automatically covered his papers with his arms. "How did you get here?"
"Call me the Doctor, please. And I suppose I should call you the War Chief?"
"If you prefer to stick to titles," said the War Chief. He hid his shock carefully, and his eyes narrowed and his voice became warm, though it didn't lose its sharpness. "It seems so unfamiliar. Are you trying to pretend that we are only acquaintances, Theta? I mean, Doctor, of course." He corrected himself before the Doctor had a chance to protest.
"I'll answer your questions in the order they were put," said the Doctor, eyeing the War Chief with a mixture of caution and distaste. "As to 'how I got here,' I found a timeship that was obviously designed by you in the middle of the seventeenth century on Earth. England. I'd very much like to know what it was doing there."
"Isn't it obvious?" The War Chief smiled.
"I suppose you're planning to conquer London, crown yourself King, some such nonsense. It'll never work."
"Not at all, Doctor. Earth, especially in such a primitive era, isn't on the top of my list for domination. No, I'm afraid my man was just picking up reinforcements. Do you want to know why?"
The Doctor nodded, and the War Chief stood up.
"I will tell you, but only because I hope that you will choose to help me rather than ruin this galaxy's best chance for peace." The War Chief reached across his desk and put both his hands on the Doctor's shoulders. The Doctor broke away, and the War Chief stepped after him, walking around the desk to stand beside him.
"What are you doing with the Humans?" asked the Doctor.
"My employers are using various eras of soldiers to conduct a series of war games - you stumbled into the recruiting for our mock English Civil War. A little late in the era, I admit, but we don't want to disrupt the actual battles too much. In any case, when we have determined who the best soldiers are, we will be able to form an army that can conquer the entire galaxy."
"This is monstrous," said the Doctor, quietly. "How many people die every day in your faked-up battles?"
"No more than would die in the real battles that we stole them from. There are hundreds of thousands of soldiers, and corresponding casualties, but they receive medical care according to their period." The Doctor blanched, but the War Chief ignored it, wrapping an arm around the Doctor's shoulders. "I'm not the cold-hearted villain you suppose me to be."
"Oh no?" The Doctor fidgeted a little, but didn't move away this time. "What about when your 'employers' use their army to rule the galaxy? Are they the sort of people who you would entrust with rule over trillions?"
"No," the War Chief admitted. He smiled, though, confident in his plan. "But I am, and so are you, Doctor. I will overthrow the leadership here with ease, especially with you at my side. Think of it, Theta. All our naive daydreams brought to life at last. Peace and order, across the galaxy."
"There's a reason why they're called daydreams, you know," said the Doctor, sourly. The War Chief squeezed his arm tighter, bringing the Doctor even closer alongside him.
"I'm so glad you appeared. We could never fail, together. If only you had never left."
"I had my reasons," said the Doctor, but he still didn't push the War Chief away.
---
"We've been waiting for ages," said Zoe. "Where is the Doctor?"
"Maybe he's been captured," said Jenny.
"No, he can't have been. He'll find his way back."
"I suppose." Jenny ran her fingers through her hair. "We're really in the heavens, now? How far are we from England?"
"I don't know," said Zoe. "A few million miles, at a guess."
"Do you think we'll make it back?"
"Of course." Zoe's voice was firm, even if she was still worried about the Doctor. "We'll travel back in one of the boxes."
"I hope you're right," said Jenny.
"I am. No, all I'm concerned with is how to keep from dying of boredom."
They sat in silence for a moment.
"I have a few ideas," said Jenny, and leaned forward to where Zoe was dimly visible through the dark.
"What-" began Zoe, and then they were kissing.
Zoe opened her mouth and leaned back into Jenny for a moment before pushing her away, hands tight on her shoulders.
"What are you doing?" Zoe sounded more curious than shocked, and Jenny twisted out of her grasp and leaned forward again, murmuring into her ear.
"Kissing you. Don't you like it?"
"That's not the point. I thought primitive Earth culture didn't recognize homosexual relationships as legitimate."
"What?"
"I didn't think people in your time thought girls kissing each other was okay. It's against your religion, or something."
"It depends on how many ales they've had," said Jenny. "I don't think it's any harm, do you?" Encouraged by Zoe's silence, she put her hands on the other girl's waist. "We're up in the stars, and you think I'm worried about what God thinks of me?"
"Why are you doing this, Jenny?"
"I like you. And I saw you looking at me earlier." Jenny, bit Zoe's earlobe, gently, but the other girl started anyway.
"I was wondering if we were the same size! I only wanted to borrow your clothes."
"I love thinking about you wearing my clothes."
"The dress doesn't really fit, you know. It's much too large - practically falling off."
"Believe me, I noticed," said Jenny.
Zoe hesitated.
"This is some ploy to make Thomas jealous, isn't it. Or a rebound or something."
"No!" Jenny lurched back, looking hurt. "It's just- oh, I realize that I get to liking people pretty easily. But you seemed nice, and, well, I'd rather I did something while I had the chance. You heard the Doctor," Jenny continued, looking through her eyelashes, "it's very dangerous. Don't want to die with regrets."
"Oh, Jenny. You needn't be scared."
"That's not- what's the use?" Jenny pushed herself back to where she had been sitting before. "I'm sorry I bothered you."
"Jenny-" Zoe stopped herself as noises began to filter in through the door from the landing bay. One of the boxes was landing, and then there was the sound of people emerging, and some kind of scuffle.
"Let go, you shit-filled sons of asses!" The voice was heavily accented, and soon broke down into cursing in Spanish. Zoe winced as the words stopped suddenly and the sound came of the guards clubbing their prisoner.
"We have to help him," she said. "He's probably another poor soldier who they've captured."
"If we just open the door we'll be caught as well," pointed out Jenny.
"What we need," said Zoe, "is a distraction." She eyed the boiler's controls, and then the pipes leading away from it. "Just how strong are you, Jenny?"
---
"Agh, my head," moaned Thomas. He curled up, trying and failing to get comfortable on the straw-covered floor of their cell.
"I still can't believe they got you too," said Jamie, nursing his twisted shoulder. "What happened?"
"Crashed into a cart," said Thomas. "You'd think a horse would be clever enough to jump the damn thing, but I just got bashed into the ground instead."
"Quiet," said the Colonel. "I'm trying to think."
"And where has your thinking got us?" said Perrott, face entirely devoid of humor for once. "Locked up in the Tower, back where we started. To hell with your thinking."
"At least Halliwell got away," sighed Thomas. "Maybe he'll-"
"He'll save his own skin," snapped Perrott.
"The Doctor will rescue us," said Jamie, but he sounded a little uncertain.
"Shut up," said the Colonel, his voice rising. "I'm trying to think."
Silence fell for a moment, as they all considered their surroundings. Light filtered in from a slit in the stone, just enough to illuminate the water dripping from the mold on the walls. Jamie edged away from a cockroach that seemed fascinated with his boot.
"Mum will visit, right?" said Thomas. In the dungeon, his cultured affectations were slipping away, making him sound ever more like the lost young man that he actually was.
"She'll try," said the Colonel. "I doubt they'll grant her request."
"We'll die down here," said Perrott, his voice flat with certainty.
"Sure and you will." A portly middle-aged gentleman walked up out of the gloom, flanked by two guards. "Unless you confess and give us your co-conspirators."
"Who might you be, sir?" said Thomas, sitting up straight.
"Sir Gilbert Talbot, the Provost Marshal. Your Lordship to you. And you will be Thomas Blood junior, alias Tom Hunt. Robert Perrott. Colonel Thomas Blood himself." His eyes flicked across the company, hesitating a little at Jamie. "And unknown accomplice." His eyes, glimmering as they caught the faint light, turned back to the Colonel. "Why did you do it?"
The Colonel said nothing, only stared at the ground. Sir Gilbert leaned closer in.
"Was it for the money? The fame? To strike a blow against the crown? Enlighten me, Blood. Tell me all about your grand scheme. I know you want to."
The Colonel looked up at last, smiling faintly.
"You're not fit to hear it, Sir Gilbert."
"No?" Sir Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "Who will you tell, then?"
"Why, the King, of course," said the Colonel. "Bring me to the King and all of England shall hear my confession."
"His Majesty isn't to be bothered with the likes of you," snarled Sir Gilbert. "Confess or rot here for eternity."
Perrott started to say something, and then stopped. Thomas stayed silent, looking at the Colonel. Jamie had no idea why they had been trying to steal the jewels in the first place.
"The King," said the Colonel, "or my story dies with me."
"I'll speak with His Majesty," said Sir Gilbert, regaining his composure. "But I wouldn't hope for much. And for God's sake, take off that mock-priest's robe."
"I can't," said the Colonel, losing his confidence for the first time.
"Whyever not?"
"I'm not wearing anything underneath," the Colonel muttered.
Sir Gilbert chuckled, surprised, and then let himself laugh fully. The Colonel fumed.
"Oh, this is going well," said Jamie.
---
"I saw Koschei, you know," said the Doctor, fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket. "He's on Earth."
"Really?" The War Chief's face dropped into a look of polite interest, and he relinquished the Doctor's shoulder at last. "How is he?"
"Surviving. That's all of our old group exiled, isn't it? Us three, Ushas, Mortimer..."
"Koschei was hardly ever a member of our group, was he? More of a hanger-on, one of your friends."
"Yes, I suppose he was. Still, don't you think that says something about us?" The Doctor leaned forward, but the War Chief just frowned.
“What, that I didn’t really get along with your precious Koschei? Yes, I do think that says something about us, Doctor.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” said the Doctor, with exasperation. “Forget about your petty rivalries, and think, for just a moment. Mortimer exiled after overzealous attempts to change history for the ‘better,’” he ticked off a finger. “Yourself exiled for much the same reason. I ran away from my desk job and my problems with the High Council without any warning. Koschei exiled for looking for me, though I doubt that’s the whole story.” He held up a hand, with all five digits extended, “and I’m sure you remember what happened with Ushas and those gigantic amphibians and reptiles. You see?”
"I’m afraid I don’t, Doctor.” The War Chief shrugged. “We dreamed too high for the Time Lords to accept. We were too ambitious to fit into their stagnant society. Should we be blamed for that?"
“Of course not.” The Doctor sighed. “I just meant, well, we were going to change things. We were going to help our society become better, not just rail against it until we were kicked out. I don’t quite see what we’ll accomplish, now, scattered and cut off from Gallifrey.”
“We can accomplish so much more,” said the War Chief, returning to familiar ground. “We can bring forth an age of galactic peace, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
"Galactic domination wasn’t exactly what I had in mind," said the Doctor, slowly. "But your viewscreen is flashing."
"Ah." The War Chief turned to the screen, gesturing at the Doctor to get out of its line of sight. "This is the War Chief."
A man with spectacles and a close-shaven beard appeared on the screen.
"Report on your progress," he said.
"Of course, War Lord. The war games continue apace, with minimal resistance from the troops. We are developing a new processing machine which should eliminate problems with individual troublemakers altogether." The War Chief shuffled paper on his desk. Behind his back, the Doctor edged to the door.
"Very good," said the War Lord. "I am now going to speak with the Security Chief. Continue with your work."
"Of course," said the War Chief. The screen blanked, and he turned back to the Doctor, who was now almost out of the room. "Where do you think you are going?"
"I just thought I'd pop out for a moment," said the Doctor. "Tour the facilities, you know."
"I don't think so," said the War Chief. "You're not going to support me at all, are you? You're going to try and stop me." His tone got progressively nastier as he spoke, and he rose, hands clutching into fists. "How can you fight against galactic peace like this?"
"With great regret, I assure you," said the Doctor, and then ran for it.
"Guards!" the War Chief screamed after him.
---
"Now, Jenny, this is a steam boiler, supplying heat to different parts of the space station. Primitive, yes, but it works well as a low-maintenance support system. If I do this, however," Zoe moved a few controls toward the top of the panel, "it begins to manufacture far more steam than is actually necessary, pushing it through those pipes." Zoe pointed at a pair of pipes that disappeared into the wall. "Are you with me so far?"
"I think so," said Jenny. "So I break those pipes and steam fills the room." She picked up a wrench-like implement from the floor and moved toward the wall, but Zoe stopped her.
"We have to time this exactly. The steam will be extremely hot. I'll open the door just as you release the steam, and we'll run out with it for cover. All right?" Zoe moved to the door. "On three. One, two, three!"
Jenny swung the wrench and Zoe pushed the door open. Three guards swung around, one of them firing blindly into the boiling cloud that was swiftly filling the room. The other guards soon joined him, leaving Jenny and Zoe free to circle around and pull the captive away. He stayed silent, and they opened a door and left the guards firing at nothing.
Out in the corridor, Zoe and Jenny got their first good look at the man they had rescued. He had a stout frame, made bulkier by his overlarge shirt and vest. His brown hair was tousled from the struggle with the guards, but looked as if it had been rather unkempt in the first place, like his short, ragged beard.
"What is this?" he said, his hands instinctively going for guns that were no longer at his hips. "Women?"
"I'm Zoe, and this is Jenny." Zoe looked around the hall, and began to walk down one end. "We have to get out of sight. Who are you?"
The man followed her, puffing himself up.
"I am Arturo Villar, leader of the bandits of the resistance. I was captured by these pigs, after my men and I raided one of their stations. Now, though I have the run of their headquarters." He reached again for missing guns and scowled. "I will get weapons, and bring my men here, and then we will destroy them all."
"You'll do no such thing," said Zoe. "The last thing we need is you drawing attention to us."
"Oh no?" Villar raised an eyebrow. "I thank you for helping me, little lady, but-"
"Be quiet and listen to Zoe," said Jenny, walking behind him. "She knows what she's about." Villar turned and stared at her, but Jenny just looked down her nose at him from her three-inch advantage in height.
"Fine," said Villar, throwing up his hands. "But I would like a weapon all the same, to protect us from any curious people. Like those ones," he added, spotting some men rushing down the corridor toward them.
"That's the Doctor!" said Zoe.
"Those are more guards," said Jenny, grabbing Zoe's hand and turning to run.
"I hate running in long skirts," complained Zoe, hitching them up with her other hand. "I should have never changed clothes."
They pelted down the corridor, making it around a corner and then, out of sight of their pursuers, into a room. Zoe kept the door open and then, as the Doctor caught up, pulled him in.
"Oh, I am glad to see you," said the Doctor, before falling on the door's controls.
"Who is this Doctor?" said Villar. "He is a friend of yours?"
"He's the one who got us into this mess," said Jenny. "Hopefully he's the one who can get us out."
"I'm trying," said the Doctor. "I've locked the door, so that should hold them for a while. I need to- I need to make some calls."
"Doctor, what did you find out?" asked Zoe. The Doctor looked a little shaky, and he was grinning nervously.
"This and that. I thought perhaps I could just liberate the kidnapped English soldiers and then send them home. I'm afraid I rather underestimated the scale of matters."
"We do not need your help," proclaimed Villar. "Give me a gun and I shall destroy this place myself, and we will all be free."
"It won't work," The Doctor shook his head. "Even if you were successful, everyone would still be displaced, out of their proper places in time. Not to mention the poor men and women who have already died. The whole timestream needs to be repaired. No, we need help, and I know where to get it. I only wish that I didn't."
"Why?" asked Zoe. "Oh, Doctor, I do wish that you would just tell us what happened."
"I'm sorry, there isn't time." The Doctor sat down on the floor and began to rummage through his pockets. "I'm going to call my people, the Time Lords. They'll sort this all out. But as soon as I have sent them a report we must leave. We must run as fast and far as we can. Do you understand?"
"No," said Jenny. "Why are we running from your people?"
"Why is your Colonel Blood in hiding from the Crown?" retorted the Doctor.
Somebody tried to open the door from the outside, and then there was pounding as they tried to batter it open. Everyone turned to look at it in silence.
"If they get in, they'll try to stop me from sending for help," said the Doctor. "Try to hold them off." He began to lay white squares in a haphazard circle.
"How are we supposed to do that?" said Zoe, as the door began to buckle under the strain.
"He-ey, look," said Villar, pointing. "I think we are in some equipment room, eh? They keep guns here for their toy soldiers." He pulled a carbine down off the wall, and tossed a pair of Colts to Jenny. "Give one to your friend. I will find ammunition."
Jenny examined the pistols before handing one to Zoe.
"They look weird, but I suppose you just pull the trigger, right? Same as at home."
"I think so," said Zoe. "I've never actually had to fire an old-Earth weapon before." She looked at the Doctor to see if he would object, but he was deep in a trance.
"It is easy," said Villar, having found some boxes of ammunition that would fit the guns. "Here, I will show you how to load them, and then you just kill people. Very simple." He pulled the cylinder open on Zoe's Colt and began to load it with cartridges and percussion caps. Jenny imitated him, her eyes darting between the gun and the door.
"They're coming," said Zoe. "Set yourselves up around the Doctor."
Villar broke his carbine open and loaded it, chewing idly at his mustache.
The door broke open and the guards burst in. One of them fell to Villar's shot, another clutched at his arm and lurched back as Zoe chose another non-lethal target. Jenny cursed as her shot ricocheted off the wall.
The Doctor stood up behind them, holding a small white box.
"You're too late," he called, and the box disappeared out of his hands. "I've sent the message. The Time Lords will be here soon."
"What?" roared the War Chief, pushing his way past the guards. The fighting stopped, everyone watching the confrontation. "How could you be so stupid? You've doomed us both."
"If you say so." The Doctor folded his hands together, and smiled. "I'd say your men have more important things to do now, don't you think?"
"Yes," agreed the War Chief, reluctantly. "Someone notify the Security Chief and the War Lord, immediately. We're all doomed unless we can escape as quickly as possible."
The guards scurried away, leaving the War Chief to glower at the Doctor.
"You're taking me with you," he said. "I know you've got a plan to escape."
"Yes, but not a very good one," agreed the Doctor, walking out into the corridor and back to the landing bay. Zoe laid down her weapon before following, but Jenny and Villar held on to theirs. "I only thought I'd borrow one of these ships you've obviously worked so hard on. Why should I let you come along, anyway?"
"You must," snarled the War Chief, grabbing the Doctor's coat with both hands and spinning him around. "I will not-" he stopped as he felt the barrel of Villar's rifle at his back. The Doctor looked at him with interest.
"You can't just leave me here to die," the War Chief said at last, reduced to pleading. "You know what the Time Lords will do to me if I am caught."
"You'd deserve it," said the Doctor. "But I suppose I can't condemn you. Let's go, we're wasting time."
---
"His Majesty says he's busy," said Sir Gilbert. "You'll have to confess to me after all."
"Nothing doing," said the Colonel. "I'll tell you about something else, though. Did you know I nearly assassinated His Majesty, once?"
Sir Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "Do tell."
"He was bathing in the Thames, but I was stopped by sheer awe of his, well, majesty." The Colonel winked. "If you know what I mean."
Sir Gilbert groaned and covered his eyes. Back in the corner of the cell, Jamie made a face.
"How long are we going to have to deal with this? Why doesn't your father just tell them what he's been up to?"
"Strategy," said Thomas, quietly. "The King could give us a much better deal than Sir Gilbert. If, on the other hand, the King doesn't like us, the worst that can happen is we'll be executed. And that's likely to happen anyway." He sighed. "Why didn't I stick to the highwayman's life? It was so simple."
"I think the Colonel's trying to imply something about His Majesty," said Jamie, listening to the Colonel's attempts at 'negotiation' with Sir Gilbert.
"You know the King's short on cash," he was saying. "Maybe he asked me to steal the Jewels for him to flog? I'm a great fixer of gentlemen's problems, as His Majesty has reason to know." The Colonel winked again, but Sir Gilbert looked, if anything, even more dubious than he had at the story about the bath.
"Yes, you've picked up on that, have you?" hissed Thomas to Jamie. "My God, this is at least the third or fourth most embarrassing thing that Father's ever put me through."
"What was the most embarrassing thing?" asked Jamie, curiously.
"Well, he did get us banned from the local church when I was four. Summoning demons, the parson said. But I think the worst thing," said Thomas, slowly, "was when he tried to out my fiancée as an alien."
"That must have been rough," offered Jamie.
"It was. I only wish Frances had told me she was a stranded Vespiform. I had to stop Father from drowning her."
Sir Gilbert was walking away from the cell.
"Look, just ask the King again," called the Colonel after him.
"Oh, aye, I will," said Sir Gilbert. "I'm sure he'd love to hear what you've been saying about him."
"I haven't spoken one word out of turn," said the Colonel.
"Not for lack of trying," said Thomas, bitterly. "What were you going to say next, that I was His Majesty's illegitimate son?"
"That's a good idea." The Colonel looked thoughtful. "I'll try that one when he comes back."
"Please don't. You know, I was going to miss you when you left. Now, not really. You really can be completely incompetent, can't you?"
The Colonel's expression got stuck somewhere between annoyed and guilty. He started to say something, but stopped. Jamie shifted, uncomfortable at having to watch. Perrott scowled and turned his back, huddling against the stone wall.
They all sat in tense silence for what might have been hours, or only minutes. Finally, the Colonel spoke.
"I'm sorry you feel that way, Thomas, but-"
The cell door rattled and opened. Sir Gilbert motioned for them to get up from the floor.
"His Majesty will see you now."
---
The landing bay was empty of steam now, one of the guards having presumably turned off the boiler. The group ran into one of the empty ships.
"These are very accurate, aren't they?" The Doctor closed the door and set the ship into flight. "Can they home in on a Human who is aligned to my timestream?"
"Of course," said the War Chief. "My SIDRATs are the very pinnacle of time and space technology. Give me this person's biocoordinates."
The Doctor began rattling off numbers, and the War Chief fed them into the SIDRAT.
"We're going back to get Jamie, aren't we?" said Zoe.
"Yes," said the Doctor, "and to get my TARDIS as well. Your SIDRAT is all very well, War Chief, but it's not nearly as comfortable."
"It's not meant to be," said the War Chief, dryly. His composure dropped in a moment, however, as the SIDRAT began to shudder and a voice came from nowhere.
"Stop the machine and surrender. There is no escape."
"Your Time Lords have found us," said Villar.
"Can't you make this materialize any faster?" demanded the Doctor. The War Chief shook his head.
"I sacrificed durability for precision, Doctor. I didn't really have the materials at hand to mass-produce something that could last."
"I saw that," said the Doctor. "Are those refrigerator magnets you're using as controls?"
"Very amusing. Regardless, I'm pushing too hard as it- oh, no." Smoke began to rise from the floor, and the War Chief's hands danced over the directional panels. "We're losing flight. We've arrived, but the landing mechanisms gone. We're going to crash."
The Doctor and the War Chief began babbling at each other, fighting over the controls. Jenny clutched the stock of her gun, trying not to panic.
"I don't want to crash," she muttered. "Crashing sounds very, very bad."
"Don't worry," said Zoe, patting her back. "The Doctor will make sure everything turns out alright."
"How will he do that? We're falling out of space!"
"I fell out from a hot air balloon once," offered Villar. "It was not so bad. It was only from fifteen feet up though. Perhaps falling from space will be worse."
Jenny laughed, a little hysterically.
"I'm going to die, and you're talking about balloons? If I have to-"
Zoe kissed her, standing on her tiptoes to press lightly at her lips.
"Do you still like me, Jenny?" she asked, when she drew back.
"What? Aye, I still like you." Jenny touched her mouth with her fingertips, and grinned, only a little tensely.
"Then don't worry," instructed Zoe, smiling back. "It will all work out for the best. And when we're all safe on the ground, I'm sure there will be time for us to get to know each other better."
"Like that, eh?" said Villar, looking between Jenny's look of interest and Zoe's slight blush. "Huh."
"What, have you got a problem?" said Jenny, belligerently.
"Stop arguing and hold on to something," said the Doctor. "We're coming down."
---
"I can't believe we're going to meet the King," said Jamie. "Bonny Prince Charlie's..." He paused, and his eyes unfocused. "Grandfather? No. Great-uncle!"
"I think he's just curious," said Thomas. "Wants to meet the men daring enough to steal his Jewels and then ask to confess to him personally."
"Quiet!" said the guard who was conveying them down the corridor to His Majesty's Court. He’d been watching them ever since they’d left the Tower, and he seemed to be even tenser now that they’d reached the home stretch.
"Oh, quiet yourself," said Jamie. "It's not every day you get to meet the King."
"His Majesty, King Charles of England, Scotland, and Ireland!" shouted a different guard. Everyone bowed.
His Majesty blinked at them, slouching up on his throne.
"Well then. These are the men who would have my crown for their own, eh? Explain yourselves."
"Your esteemed Majesty," said the Colonel, drawing himself up. "I am your most humble servant, and-"
"Not so humble, if you steal my things," said His Majesty, mildly. "Try again."
The Colonel frowned, involuntarily stepping back a pace. His fingers reflexively straightened the ill-fitting clothing he had been given to replace his black robe.
"Most merciful Monarch-"
"Actually, today I'm feeling quite vindictive," remarked His Majesty. "Don't be casting aspirations on me, now."
"Stop trying to butter him up," hissed Thomas. "It's not working."
"I suppose you have a better plan?" said the Colonel, looking utterly exasperated.
"Oh, that's right," said His Majesty. "Talk amongst yourselves, ignore me. I'm only the bloody King, you know."
"Look!" said Jamie, pointing up at the skylight.
"Not now," said the Colonel.
"No, really, look! Wait," Jamie frowned. "Duck!"
The SIDRAT crashed into and through the ceiling, trailing vapor and plaster.
(alternate title: Covered in Blood)
Doctor Who, Classic Series AU
Rating: PG-13 as a whole
(this chapter: violence, swearing, more awkward innuendo, and girls kissing.
As a whole: violence, PG rated slash, femslash, and het. Small children.)
Pairings and characters (this chapter): Two/AU!Master, slight Two/War Chief, Zoe/Jenny (OFC/historical personage), Jamie, various historical personages, various characters from War Games.
Wordcount (this chapter): about 6,500
Summary: The Doctor encounters yet another old friend, and has to put up with his nefarious plans as well. Meanwhile, Koschei gets himself into a jam and has to figure out how to get out of it.
A/N: The halfway point in my odd, historical fiction reimagining of the War Games. Credit for the plot to steal the Crown Jewels goes to Colonel Thomas Blood, as does credit for some of his dialogue in this chapter. A few lines of dialogue are similarly from the War Games (written by Malcolm Hulke and Terrance Dicks). Thanks again to my beta,
birdsarecalling, who approved my femslash and showed me where my sentences had gotten too confusing. Written for the best_enemies bigbang challenge.Previous Chapters: Chapter One | Chapter Two
"Run faster," shouted the Colonel. "We're nearly to the outer walls!"
Jamie and Perrott merely puffed in response. Together, the group wheeled to run straight out of the inner courtyard. The pair of men chasing them duly changed direction, trying to catch up.
"Stop them!" screamed the darker-haired one, his voice strong despite the pace. A guard looked down from one of the towers, but the Colonel drew his pistol and fired at him without stopping. The bullet missed, ricocheting off the tower, and the guard threw himself down, hands covering his head.
"Come on," said the Colonel, keeping his pistol in his hands. The three hurried through the gate and they were across the drawbridge and into the outer walls. The guard on the other side of the bridge ducked out of the way at the sight of them.
"Where now?" said Jamie, panting. "Out the way we came?"
"They'll be expecting that," growled the Colonel. "Around the side, hurry."
"Why would they be expecting that?" complained Jamie. The gate they had come in was close, and now unguarded. But he followed all the same.
They ran as fast as they could to the Iron Gate, but their pursuers stayed with them all the way. No one stopped them, however, and soon they were bursting out onto a busy wharf.
"Fish!" screamed a woman.
"Eels!" shouted another.
"Help, he's got a gun!" shrieked a fisherman. The Colonel shoved him away, secreting the pistol back under his cloak.
"They're gaining," said Jamie, glancing back.
"Blood, we can't move quickly enough through these crowds," muttered Perrott.
"I've got a plan," said the Colonel, still trying to move forward, despite the press of people. "How close are they?"
"Close," said Jamie. "Very close."
The Colonel whirled around, face set in a comically over-exaggerated mask of dismay.
"Stop those thieves!" he shouted, one arm gesturing wildly at the blond and the dark-haired man. The crowd turned, as a unit, staring in their direction. The pair stood still with shock. A few burly heroes stepped toward them, looking dark.
"Steal from a parson, will you?"
"You ought to be ashamed."
"That'll keep them busy for a bit," said the Colonel. "Hurry, let's get out of here."
---
The vibrations of the ship died away, leaving everything quiet, for a moment, before the noise of men moving broke the silence. The sailors seemed to be disembarking.
"I think we've landed," said the Doctor, starting toward the door of the little room. "Let's go and see."
"Shouldn't we wait to make sure everyone's off the ship?" asked Zoe, but she didn't move to stop the Doctor as he opened the door.
"If we wait too long, the ship might dematerialize again. No, we'll risk it. Come along."
The Doctor, Zoe, and Jenny snuck through the ship's corridors, seeing no one. Finally, they came to the outer door.
"Hopefully any guards will be busy with the sailors," said the Doctor. "Let me just see if I can operate these door controls-" He fiddled for a moment with a panel, moving the cut-out shapes into a new configuration. The door slowly eased open, and Jenny stuck her head out.
"No one out here," she called. "Looks deserted."
"Very good," said the Doctor. "Let's find somewhere for you girls to hide, while I go find out what's going on."
"What?" said Zoe. "We're coming with you."
The Doctor shook his head.
"Zoe, this is all very dangerous. Anyway, there's someone I need to talk to, alone. I'd be much happier if I knew you and Jenny were safe."
"I don't see how we'll be very safe here," said Jenny. "Where are we, anyway?"
"I think it's a space station," said the Doctor. "It's certainly built like one. And, if I'm at all familiar with the design, I should be able to find a- hm." The Doctor walked toward one wall in the docking bay, then turned in the opposite direction and to another wall. He felt its panels one by one until he found a piece that gave a satisfying click and swung open.
"There you are," he said. "One hiding place, ready-made."
Zoe peered inside.
"Doctor, it's a boiler room."
"Well?"
"Oh, fine," said Zoe. She stepped in, followed by Jenny, who stared at the piping and the huge water boiler.
"Does the door open from the inside?" asked Jenny, not seeing a handle.
"Yes, yes," said the Doctor. "Just press it with both hands, and it will swing out. Now, be quiet, and I'll be back as soon as I can."
"You had better be," said Zoe, still eyeing the room with distaste.
The Doctor shut the door and hurried away.
"There aren't any lights in here," observed Jenny.
"I can't believe he left us alone and in the dark," said Zoe. "This is the worst metaphor."
---
"There're horses there," said Jamie, pointing to a nearby hitching post with a few mares and geldings standing by it.
"Right," said the Colonel. "Grab them, we haven't got long."
"You are right, you do not," said a man behind them, his voice accented with Nordic tones. The blond had escaped the mob, though not without damage. One eye was blackened, and his nose bled freely as his hands reached for the Colonel's throat.
"Run, boys," said the Colonel, fumbling in his cloak for his pistol.
Perrott went to mount a horse, but Jamie held back, torn between helping the Colonel and getting out of there to find the Doctor. While he hesitated, the pistol went off into the air, and the blond tore it from the Colonel's hands.
"Where is the crown?" he snarled. He reeled back as the Colonel belted him across the face with his bag of loot. The blond grabbed at it, blindly, and then they began to struggle for the bag, lashing out at each other until they fell, rolling on the cobbles.
The confusion startled the horses at the hitching post, and several tried to get away, tugging at their reins. Perrott yelped as he was thrown by his rearing horse. He scrambled up and tried to run before being stopped by the dark-haired man.
"You nearly killed my father, you piece of scum."
"I'll try harder next time," sniggered Perrott automatically, before going down from a knee in the groin. Even as he fell, Edwards' son yelped, hopping on one foot and clutching his knee.
"What the hell do you keep in your trousers, blaggard?" He bent down and tore Perrott's belt away, keeping Perrott's hands pinned as he recovered.
The heroes from the mob approached, apparently having been convinced of who the real thieves were. Jamie weighed up the odds quickly and then threw himself at the men anyway.
"Creag an tuire!"
The fight didn't last long, and soon Jamie was face-down on the cobbles, along with Perrot and the Colonel.
"Oh, well," said the Colonel, grinning through blood and the mud of the ground. "It was a gallant attempt, though unsuccessful. It was for a crown, after all."
"A crown that you smashed to pieces, you scoundrel," said the young Edwards, looking into the sack of loot. "And that son of a bitch," he pointed at Perrott, "stuck the King's orb down his britches."
"I can only speak for what I myself looted, but I think you'll find the crown has merely been flattened," said the Colonel, archly. The blond man rolled his eyes and forced the Colonel's face further into the mud.
---
The Doctor navigated the corridors of the space station, looking for a helpful sign saying "War Chief's Office." He'd had some trouble at first with guards trying to stop him, which had necessitated some fast talking. After that, however, he liberated a pair of the slit-visors that everyone was wearing, and the people of the space station ignored him in favor of their assigned tasks.
A tall man in a white coat was tinkering with some sort of machine. The Doctor stopped and quietly offered a few pieces of advice on wiring, before asking directions.
"Just down the corridor, on the left, you can't miss it," said the tall man. "Good luck."
"Oh, thank you," said the Doctor, smiling. The full effect was rather lost with his eyes covered, but the tall man smiled back all the same.
The Doctor walked down the corridor and knocked on the door on the left.
"Enter," said a voice. It was sharp and cold, and very familiar to the Doctor, just as the face on the viewscreen had been. Magnus, at least, hadn't regenerated since he'd seen him last.
The Doctor stepped through the opening door, removing his slit-visor at the same time.
"What is it?" asked Magnus, not looking up from his papers. He was even wearing the same giant medallion that he had taken to during academy.
"Just what do you think you are doing?" said the Doctor, determined to start things off on the proper note of indignation.
"Theta?" Magnus' eyes darted up immediately, and he automatically covered his papers with his arms. "How did you get here?"
"Call me the Doctor, please. And I suppose I should call you the War Chief?"
"If you prefer to stick to titles," said the War Chief. He hid his shock carefully, and his eyes narrowed and his voice became warm, though it didn't lose its sharpness. "It seems so unfamiliar. Are you trying to pretend that we are only acquaintances, Theta? I mean, Doctor, of course." He corrected himself before the Doctor had a chance to protest.
"I'll answer your questions in the order they were put," said the Doctor, eyeing the War Chief with a mixture of caution and distaste. "As to 'how I got here,' I found a timeship that was obviously designed by you in the middle of the seventeenth century on Earth. England. I'd very much like to know what it was doing there."
"Isn't it obvious?" The War Chief smiled.
"I suppose you're planning to conquer London, crown yourself King, some such nonsense. It'll never work."
"Not at all, Doctor. Earth, especially in such a primitive era, isn't on the top of my list for domination. No, I'm afraid my man was just picking up reinforcements. Do you want to know why?"
The Doctor nodded, and the War Chief stood up.
"I will tell you, but only because I hope that you will choose to help me rather than ruin this galaxy's best chance for peace." The War Chief reached across his desk and put both his hands on the Doctor's shoulders. The Doctor broke away, and the War Chief stepped after him, walking around the desk to stand beside him.
"What are you doing with the Humans?" asked the Doctor.
"My employers are using various eras of soldiers to conduct a series of war games - you stumbled into the recruiting for our mock English Civil War. A little late in the era, I admit, but we don't want to disrupt the actual battles too much. In any case, when we have determined who the best soldiers are, we will be able to form an army that can conquer the entire galaxy."
"This is monstrous," said the Doctor, quietly. "How many people die every day in your faked-up battles?"
"No more than would die in the real battles that we stole them from. There are hundreds of thousands of soldiers, and corresponding casualties, but they receive medical care according to their period." The Doctor blanched, but the War Chief ignored it, wrapping an arm around the Doctor's shoulders. "I'm not the cold-hearted villain you suppose me to be."
"Oh no?" The Doctor fidgeted a little, but didn't move away this time. "What about when your 'employers' use their army to rule the galaxy? Are they the sort of people who you would entrust with rule over trillions?"
"No," the War Chief admitted. He smiled, though, confident in his plan. "But I am, and so are you, Doctor. I will overthrow the leadership here with ease, especially with you at my side. Think of it, Theta. All our naive daydreams brought to life at last. Peace and order, across the galaxy."
"There's a reason why they're called daydreams, you know," said the Doctor, sourly. The War Chief squeezed his arm tighter, bringing the Doctor even closer alongside him.
"I'm so glad you appeared. We could never fail, together. If only you had never left."
"I had my reasons," said the Doctor, but he still didn't push the War Chief away.
---
"We've been waiting for ages," said Zoe. "Where is the Doctor?"
"Maybe he's been captured," said Jenny.
"No, he can't have been. He'll find his way back."
"I suppose." Jenny ran her fingers through her hair. "We're really in the heavens, now? How far are we from England?"
"I don't know," said Zoe. "A few million miles, at a guess."
"Do you think we'll make it back?"
"Of course." Zoe's voice was firm, even if she was still worried about the Doctor. "We'll travel back in one of the boxes."
"I hope you're right," said Jenny.
"I am. No, all I'm concerned with is how to keep from dying of boredom."
They sat in silence for a moment.
"I have a few ideas," said Jenny, and leaned forward to where Zoe was dimly visible through the dark.
"What-" began Zoe, and then they were kissing.
Zoe opened her mouth and leaned back into Jenny for a moment before pushing her away, hands tight on her shoulders.
"What are you doing?" Zoe sounded more curious than shocked, and Jenny twisted out of her grasp and leaned forward again, murmuring into her ear.
"Kissing you. Don't you like it?"
"That's not the point. I thought primitive Earth culture didn't recognize homosexual relationships as legitimate."
"What?"
"I didn't think people in your time thought girls kissing each other was okay. It's against your religion, or something."
"It depends on how many ales they've had," said Jenny. "I don't think it's any harm, do you?" Encouraged by Zoe's silence, she put her hands on the other girl's waist. "We're up in the stars, and you think I'm worried about what God thinks of me?"
"Why are you doing this, Jenny?"
"I like you. And I saw you looking at me earlier." Jenny, bit Zoe's earlobe, gently, but the other girl started anyway.
"I was wondering if we were the same size! I only wanted to borrow your clothes."
"I love thinking about you wearing my clothes."
"The dress doesn't really fit, you know. It's much too large - practically falling off."
"Believe me, I noticed," said Jenny.
Zoe hesitated.
"This is some ploy to make Thomas jealous, isn't it. Or a rebound or something."
"No!" Jenny lurched back, looking hurt. "It's just- oh, I realize that I get to liking people pretty easily. But you seemed nice, and, well, I'd rather I did something while I had the chance. You heard the Doctor," Jenny continued, looking through her eyelashes, "it's very dangerous. Don't want to die with regrets."
"Oh, Jenny. You needn't be scared."
"That's not- what's the use?" Jenny pushed herself back to where she had been sitting before. "I'm sorry I bothered you."
"Jenny-" Zoe stopped herself as noises began to filter in through the door from the landing bay. One of the boxes was landing, and then there was the sound of people emerging, and some kind of scuffle.
"Let go, you shit-filled sons of asses!" The voice was heavily accented, and soon broke down into cursing in Spanish. Zoe winced as the words stopped suddenly and the sound came of the guards clubbing their prisoner.
"We have to help him," she said. "He's probably another poor soldier who they've captured."
"If we just open the door we'll be caught as well," pointed out Jenny.
"What we need," said Zoe, "is a distraction." She eyed the boiler's controls, and then the pipes leading away from it. "Just how strong are you, Jenny?"
---
"Agh, my head," moaned Thomas. He curled up, trying and failing to get comfortable on the straw-covered floor of their cell.
"I still can't believe they got you too," said Jamie, nursing his twisted shoulder. "What happened?"
"Crashed into a cart," said Thomas. "You'd think a horse would be clever enough to jump the damn thing, but I just got bashed into the ground instead."
"Quiet," said the Colonel. "I'm trying to think."
"And where has your thinking got us?" said Perrott, face entirely devoid of humor for once. "Locked up in the Tower, back where we started. To hell with your thinking."
"At least Halliwell got away," sighed Thomas. "Maybe he'll-"
"He'll save his own skin," snapped Perrott.
"The Doctor will rescue us," said Jamie, but he sounded a little uncertain.
"Shut up," said the Colonel, his voice rising. "I'm trying to think."
Silence fell for a moment, as they all considered their surroundings. Light filtered in from a slit in the stone, just enough to illuminate the water dripping from the mold on the walls. Jamie edged away from a cockroach that seemed fascinated with his boot.
"Mum will visit, right?" said Thomas. In the dungeon, his cultured affectations were slipping away, making him sound ever more like the lost young man that he actually was.
"She'll try," said the Colonel. "I doubt they'll grant her request."
"We'll die down here," said Perrott, his voice flat with certainty.
"Sure and you will." A portly middle-aged gentleman walked up out of the gloom, flanked by two guards. "Unless you confess and give us your co-conspirators."
"Who might you be, sir?" said Thomas, sitting up straight.
"Sir Gilbert Talbot, the Provost Marshal. Your Lordship to you. And you will be Thomas Blood junior, alias Tom Hunt. Robert Perrott. Colonel Thomas Blood himself." His eyes flicked across the company, hesitating a little at Jamie. "And unknown accomplice." His eyes, glimmering as they caught the faint light, turned back to the Colonel. "Why did you do it?"
The Colonel said nothing, only stared at the ground. Sir Gilbert leaned closer in.
"Was it for the money? The fame? To strike a blow against the crown? Enlighten me, Blood. Tell me all about your grand scheme. I know you want to."
The Colonel looked up at last, smiling faintly.
"You're not fit to hear it, Sir Gilbert."
"No?" Sir Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "Who will you tell, then?"
"Why, the King, of course," said the Colonel. "Bring me to the King and all of England shall hear my confession."
"His Majesty isn't to be bothered with the likes of you," snarled Sir Gilbert. "Confess or rot here for eternity."
Perrott started to say something, and then stopped. Thomas stayed silent, looking at the Colonel. Jamie had no idea why they had been trying to steal the jewels in the first place.
"The King," said the Colonel, "or my story dies with me."
"I'll speak with His Majesty," said Sir Gilbert, regaining his composure. "But I wouldn't hope for much. And for God's sake, take off that mock-priest's robe."
"I can't," said the Colonel, losing his confidence for the first time.
"Whyever not?"
"I'm not wearing anything underneath," the Colonel muttered.
Sir Gilbert chuckled, surprised, and then let himself laugh fully. The Colonel fumed.
"Oh, this is going well," said Jamie.
---
"I saw Koschei, you know," said the Doctor, fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket. "He's on Earth."
"Really?" The War Chief's face dropped into a look of polite interest, and he relinquished the Doctor's shoulder at last. "How is he?"
"Surviving. That's all of our old group exiled, isn't it? Us three, Ushas, Mortimer..."
"Koschei was hardly ever a member of our group, was he? More of a hanger-on, one of your friends."
"Yes, I suppose he was. Still, don't you think that says something about us?" The Doctor leaned forward, but the War Chief just frowned.
“What, that I didn’t really get along with your precious Koschei? Yes, I do think that says something about us, Doctor.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” said the Doctor, with exasperation. “Forget about your petty rivalries, and think, for just a moment. Mortimer exiled after overzealous attempts to change history for the ‘better,’” he ticked off a finger. “Yourself exiled for much the same reason. I ran away from my desk job and my problems with the High Council without any warning. Koschei exiled for looking for me, though I doubt that’s the whole story.” He held up a hand, with all five digits extended, “and I’m sure you remember what happened with Ushas and those gigantic amphibians and reptiles. You see?”
"I’m afraid I don’t, Doctor.” The War Chief shrugged. “We dreamed too high for the Time Lords to accept. We were too ambitious to fit into their stagnant society. Should we be blamed for that?"
“Of course not.” The Doctor sighed. “I just meant, well, we were going to change things. We were going to help our society become better, not just rail against it until we were kicked out. I don’t quite see what we’ll accomplish, now, scattered and cut off from Gallifrey.”
“We can accomplish so much more,” said the War Chief, returning to familiar ground. “We can bring forth an age of galactic peace, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
"Galactic domination wasn’t exactly what I had in mind," said the Doctor, slowly. "But your viewscreen is flashing."
"Ah." The War Chief turned to the screen, gesturing at the Doctor to get out of its line of sight. "This is the War Chief."
A man with spectacles and a close-shaven beard appeared on the screen.
"Report on your progress," he said.
"Of course, War Lord. The war games continue apace, with minimal resistance from the troops. We are developing a new processing machine which should eliminate problems with individual troublemakers altogether." The War Chief shuffled paper on his desk. Behind his back, the Doctor edged to the door.
"Very good," said the War Lord. "I am now going to speak with the Security Chief. Continue with your work."
"Of course," said the War Chief. The screen blanked, and he turned back to the Doctor, who was now almost out of the room. "Where do you think you are going?"
"I just thought I'd pop out for a moment," said the Doctor. "Tour the facilities, you know."
"I don't think so," said the War Chief. "You're not going to support me at all, are you? You're going to try and stop me." His tone got progressively nastier as he spoke, and he rose, hands clutching into fists. "How can you fight against galactic peace like this?"
"With great regret, I assure you," said the Doctor, and then ran for it.
"Guards!" the War Chief screamed after him.
---
"Now, Jenny, this is a steam boiler, supplying heat to different parts of the space station. Primitive, yes, but it works well as a low-maintenance support system. If I do this, however," Zoe moved a few controls toward the top of the panel, "it begins to manufacture far more steam than is actually necessary, pushing it through those pipes." Zoe pointed at a pair of pipes that disappeared into the wall. "Are you with me so far?"
"I think so," said Jenny. "So I break those pipes and steam fills the room." She picked up a wrench-like implement from the floor and moved toward the wall, but Zoe stopped her.
"We have to time this exactly. The steam will be extremely hot. I'll open the door just as you release the steam, and we'll run out with it for cover. All right?" Zoe moved to the door. "On three. One, two, three!"
Jenny swung the wrench and Zoe pushed the door open. Three guards swung around, one of them firing blindly into the boiling cloud that was swiftly filling the room. The other guards soon joined him, leaving Jenny and Zoe free to circle around and pull the captive away. He stayed silent, and they opened a door and left the guards firing at nothing.
Out in the corridor, Zoe and Jenny got their first good look at the man they had rescued. He had a stout frame, made bulkier by his overlarge shirt and vest. His brown hair was tousled from the struggle with the guards, but looked as if it had been rather unkempt in the first place, like his short, ragged beard.
"What is this?" he said, his hands instinctively going for guns that were no longer at his hips. "Women?"
"I'm Zoe, and this is Jenny." Zoe looked around the hall, and began to walk down one end. "We have to get out of sight. Who are you?"
The man followed her, puffing himself up.
"I am Arturo Villar, leader of the bandits of the resistance. I was captured by these pigs, after my men and I raided one of their stations. Now, though I have the run of their headquarters." He reached again for missing guns and scowled. "I will get weapons, and bring my men here, and then we will destroy them all."
"You'll do no such thing," said Zoe. "The last thing we need is you drawing attention to us."
"Oh no?" Villar raised an eyebrow. "I thank you for helping me, little lady, but-"
"Be quiet and listen to Zoe," said Jenny, walking behind him. "She knows what she's about." Villar turned and stared at her, but Jenny just looked down her nose at him from her three-inch advantage in height.
"Fine," said Villar, throwing up his hands. "But I would like a weapon all the same, to protect us from any curious people. Like those ones," he added, spotting some men rushing down the corridor toward them.
"That's the Doctor!" said Zoe.
"Those are more guards," said Jenny, grabbing Zoe's hand and turning to run.
"I hate running in long skirts," complained Zoe, hitching them up with her other hand. "I should have never changed clothes."
They pelted down the corridor, making it around a corner and then, out of sight of their pursuers, into a room. Zoe kept the door open and then, as the Doctor caught up, pulled him in.
"Oh, I am glad to see you," said the Doctor, before falling on the door's controls.
"Who is this Doctor?" said Villar. "He is a friend of yours?"
"He's the one who got us into this mess," said Jenny. "Hopefully he's the one who can get us out."
"I'm trying," said the Doctor. "I've locked the door, so that should hold them for a while. I need to- I need to make some calls."
"Doctor, what did you find out?" asked Zoe. The Doctor looked a little shaky, and he was grinning nervously.
"This and that. I thought perhaps I could just liberate the kidnapped English soldiers and then send them home. I'm afraid I rather underestimated the scale of matters."
"We do not need your help," proclaimed Villar. "Give me a gun and I shall destroy this place myself, and we will all be free."
"It won't work," The Doctor shook his head. "Even if you were successful, everyone would still be displaced, out of their proper places in time. Not to mention the poor men and women who have already died. The whole timestream needs to be repaired. No, we need help, and I know where to get it. I only wish that I didn't."
"Why?" asked Zoe. "Oh, Doctor, I do wish that you would just tell us what happened."
"I'm sorry, there isn't time." The Doctor sat down on the floor and began to rummage through his pockets. "I'm going to call my people, the Time Lords. They'll sort this all out. But as soon as I have sent them a report we must leave. We must run as fast and far as we can. Do you understand?"
"No," said Jenny. "Why are we running from your people?"
"Why is your Colonel Blood in hiding from the Crown?" retorted the Doctor.
Somebody tried to open the door from the outside, and then there was pounding as they tried to batter it open. Everyone turned to look at it in silence.
"If they get in, they'll try to stop me from sending for help," said the Doctor. "Try to hold them off." He began to lay white squares in a haphazard circle.
"How are we supposed to do that?" said Zoe, as the door began to buckle under the strain.
"He-ey, look," said Villar, pointing. "I think we are in some equipment room, eh? They keep guns here for their toy soldiers." He pulled a carbine down off the wall, and tossed a pair of Colts to Jenny. "Give one to your friend. I will find ammunition."
Jenny examined the pistols before handing one to Zoe.
"They look weird, but I suppose you just pull the trigger, right? Same as at home."
"I think so," said Zoe. "I've never actually had to fire an old-Earth weapon before." She looked at the Doctor to see if he would object, but he was deep in a trance.
"It is easy," said Villar, having found some boxes of ammunition that would fit the guns. "Here, I will show you how to load them, and then you just kill people. Very simple." He pulled the cylinder open on Zoe's Colt and began to load it with cartridges and percussion caps. Jenny imitated him, her eyes darting between the gun and the door.
"They're coming," said Zoe. "Set yourselves up around the Doctor."
Villar broke his carbine open and loaded it, chewing idly at his mustache.
The door broke open and the guards burst in. One of them fell to Villar's shot, another clutched at his arm and lurched back as Zoe chose another non-lethal target. Jenny cursed as her shot ricocheted off the wall.
The Doctor stood up behind them, holding a small white box.
"You're too late," he called, and the box disappeared out of his hands. "I've sent the message. The Time Lords will be here soon."
"What?" roared the War Chief, pushing his way past the guards. The fighting stopped, everyone watching the confrontation. "How could you be so stupid? You've doomed us both."
"If you say so." The Doctor folded his hands together, and smiled. "I'd say your men have more important things to do now, don't you think?"
"Yes," agreed the War Chief, reluctantly. "Someone notify the Security Chief and the War Lord, immediately. We're all doomed unless we can escape as quickly as possible."
The guards scurried away, leaving the War Chief to glower at the Doctor.
"You're taking me with you," he said. "I know you've got a plan to escape."
"Yes, but not a very good one," agreed the Doctor, walking out into the corridor and back to the landing bay. Zoe laid down her weapon before following, but Jenny and Villar held on to theirs. "I only thought I'd borrow one of these ships you've obviously worked so hard on. Why should I let you come along, anyway?"
"You must," snarled the War Chief, grabbing the Doctor's coat with both hands and spinning him around. "I will not-" he stopped as he felt the barrel of Villar's rifle at his back. The Doctor looked at him with interest.
"You can't just leave me here to die," the War Chief said at last, reduced to pleading. "You know what the Time Lords will do to me if I am caught."
"You'd deserve it," said the Doctor. "But I suppose I can't condemn you. Let's go, we're wasting time."
---
"His Majesty says he's busy," said Sir Gilbert. "You'll have to confess to me after all."
"Nothing doing," said the Colonel. "I'll tell you about something else, though. Did you know I nearly assassinated His Majesty, once?"
Sir Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "Do tell."
"He was bathing in the Thames, but I was stopped by sheer awe of his, well, majesty." The Colonel winked. "If you know what I mean."
Sir Gilbert groaned and covered his eyes. Back in the corner of the cell, Jamie made a face.
"How long are we going to have to deal with this? Why doesn't your father just tell them what he's been up to?"
"Strategy," said Thomas, quietly. "The King could give us a much better deal than Sir Gilbert. If, on the other hand, the King doesn't like us, the worst that can happen is we'll be executed. And that's likely to happen anyway." He sighed. "Why didn't I stick to the highwayman's life? It was so simple."
"I think the Colonel's trying to imply something about His Majesty," said Jamie, listening to the Colonel's attempts at 'negotiation' with Sir Gilbert.
"You know the King's short on cash," he was saying. "Maybe he asked me to steal the Jewels for him to flog? I'm a great fixer of gentlemen's problems, as His Majesty has reason to know." The Colonel winked again, but Sir Gilbert looked, if anything, even more dubious than he had at the story about the bath.
"Yes, you've picked up on that, have you?" hissed Thomas to Jamie. "My God, this is at least the third or fourth most embarrassing thing that Father's ever put me through."
"What was the most embarrassing thing?" asked Jamie, curiously.
"Well, he did get us banned from the local church when I was four. Summoning demons, the parson said. But I think the worst thing," said Thomas, slowly, "was when he tried to out my fiancée as an alien."
"That must have been rough," offered Jamie.
"It was. I only wish Frances had told me she was a stranded Vespiform. I had to stop Father from drowning her."
Sir Gilbert was walking away from the cell.
"Look, just ask the King again," called the Colonel after him.
"Oh, aye, I will," said Sir Gilbert. "I'm sure he'd love to hear what you've been saying about him."
"I haven't spoken one word out of turn," said the Colonel.
"Not for lack of trying," said Thomas, bitterly. "What were you going to say next, that I was His Majesty's illegitimate son?"
"That's a good idea." The Colonel looked thoughtful. "I'll try that one when he comes back."
"Please don't. You know, I was going to miss you when you left. Now, not really. You really can be completely incompetent, can't you?"
The Colonel's expression got stuck somewhere between annoyed and guilty. He started to say something, but stopped. Jamie shifted, uncomfortable at having to watch. Perrott scowled and turned his back, huddling against the stone wall.
They all sat in tense silence for what might have been hours, or only minutes. Finally, the Colonel spoke.
"I'm sorry you feel that way, Thomas, but-"
The cell door rattled and opened. Sir Gilbert motioned for them to get up from the floor.
"His Majesty will see you now."
---
The landing bay was empty of steam now, one of the guards having presumably turned off the boiler. The group ran into one of the empty ships.
"These are very accurate, aren't they?" The Doctor closed the door and set the ship into flight. "Can they home in on a Human who is aligned to my timestream?"
"Of course," said the War Chief. "My SIDRATs are the very pinnacle of time and space technology. Give me this person's biocoordinates."
The Doctor began rattling off numbers, and the War Chief fed them into the SIDRAT.
"We're going back to get Jamie, aren't we?" said Zoe.
"Yes," said the Doctor, "and to get my TARDIS as well. Your SIDRAT is all very well, War Chief, but it's not nearly as comfortable."
"It's not meant to be," said the War Chief, dryly. His composure dropped in a moment, however, as the SIDRAT began to shudder and a voice came from nowhere.
"Stop the machine and surrender. There is no escape."
"Your Time Lords have found us," said Villar.
"Can't you make this materialize any faster?" demanded the Doctor. The War Chief shook his head.
"I sacrificed durability for precision, Doctor. I didn't really have the materials at hand to mass-produce something that could last."
"I saw that," said the Doctor. "Are those refrigerator magnets you're using as controls?"
"Very amusing. Regardless, I'm pushing too hard as it- oh, no." Smoke began to rise from the floor, and the War Chief's hands danced over the directional panels. "We're losing flight. We've arrived, but the landing mechanisms gone. We're going to crash."
The Doctor and the War Chief began babbling at each other, fighting over the controls. Jenny clutched the stock of her gun, trying not to panic.
"I don't want to crash," she muttered. "Crashing sounds very, very bad."
"Don't worry," said Zoe, patting her back. "The Doctor will make sure everything turns out alright."
"How will he do that? We're falling out of space!"
"I fell out from a hot air balloon once," offered Villar. "It was not so bad. It was only from fifteen feet up though. Perhaps falling from space will be worse."
Jenny laughed, a little hysterically.
"I'm going to die, and you're talking about balloons? If I have to-"
Zoe kissed her, standing on her tiptoes to press lightly at her lips.
"Do you still like me, Jenny?" she asked, when she drew back.
"What? Aye, I still like you." Jenny touched her mouth with her fingertips, and grinned, only a little tensely.
"Then don't worry," instructed Zoe, smiling back. "It will all work out for the best. And when we're all safe on the ground, I'm sure there will be time for us to get to know each other better."
"Like that, eh?" said Villar, looking between Jenny's look of interest and Zoe's slight blush. "Huh."
"What, have you got a problem?" said Jenny, belligerently.
"Stop arguing and hold on to something," said the Doctor. "We're coming down."
---
"I can't believe we're going to meet the King," said Jamie. "Bonny Prince Charlie's..." He paused, and his eyes unfocused. "Grandfather? No. Great-uncle!"
"I think he's just curious," said Thomas. "Wants to meet the men daring enough to steal his Jewels and then ask to confess to him personally."
"Quiet!" said the guard who was conveying them down the corridor to His Majesty's Court. He’d been watching them ever since they’d left the Tower, and he seemed to be even tenser now that they’d reached the home stretch.
"Oh, quiet yourself," said Jamie. "It's not every day you get to meet the King."
"His Majesty, King Charles of England, Scotland, and Ireland!" shouted a different guard. Everyone bowed.
His Majesty blinked at them, slouching up on his throne.
"Well then. These are the men who would have my crown for their own, eh? Explain yourselves."
"Your esteemed Majesty," said the Colonel, drawing himself up. "I am your most humble servant, and-"
"Not so humble, if you steal my things," said His Majesty, mildly. "Try again."
The Colonel frowned, involuntarily stepping back a pace. His fingers reflexively straightened the ill-fitting clothing he had been given to replace his black robe.
"Most merciful Monarch-"
"Actually, today I'm feeling quite vindictive," remarked His Majesty. "Don't be casting aspirations on me, now."
"Stop trying to butter him up," hissed Thomas. "It's not working."
"I suppose you have a better plan?" said the Colonel, looking utterly exasperated.
"Oh, that's right," said His Majesty. "Talk amongst yourselves, ignore me. I'm only the bloody King, you know."
"Look!" said Jamie, pointing up at the skylight.
"Not now," said the Colonel.
"No, really, look! Wait," Jamie frowned. "Duck!"
The SIDRAT crashed into and through the ceiling, trailing vapor and plaster.
