Doctor Who Fan Fiction ❯ Donna and Ten - The Inbetweens and backstories ❯ Chapter Ten ( Chapter 10 )

'Thanks for last night,' Donna said as she bit into her toast at the breakfast table. 'I know we went for the football, but the tribute to dad was the icing on the cake,' she said with a smile.

 

He nodded his head in agreement, wondering when he would go and see Geoff Noble. 'You're welcome,' he said, smiling in return.

 

'A two, two draw though,' Donna said disappointedly. 'Are we ever goin' to beat those Geordies?'

 

The Doctor consulted the terminal on the counter. 'September this year, do you want to know the score?'

 

'Don't you dare, I want to see that one.'

 

'Fair enough. It's one of those `if you don't want to know the result, look away now' moments.'

 

'You doin' that just then, lookin' into the future; I've been wonderin', how does it all work then, all this time travellin' stuff?' she asked him as she took another bite of toast.

 

'It's a bit complicated,' he said.

 

'So's the Dewey Decimal System, but I nailed that in two days,' she told him with a hint of pride in her voice.

 

'Alright, it's VERY complicated.'

 

'No doubt, but how can I put this? I don't want to understand how it works, I want to know how you do it.' The Doctor looked at her as though she'd dribbled down her top.

 

'I mean, I have a car, and I know there's somethin' under the bonnet that you can put oil and water in, but it don't stop me from drivin' it, does it?'

 

'Ah, I see. That thing under the bonnet is called THE ENGINE,' he said as though he was talking to an infant. 'And if you put the water and the oil in the wrong holes . . . that will certainly stop you from driving it.'

 

'Which is why I pay a mechanic to do it for me,' she said with a head wobble of attitude. 'So are you gonna show me how it's done or what?'

 

The Doctor smiled at her, his eyes had a far away look as he remembered how Rose had enjoyed flying the TARDIS. After the Satellite Five incident, he had thought it was probably safer if she learnt some of the basics of how to make a return journey, just in case.

 

'Okay then, finish your tea and toast, and we'll see what you can do.'

 

'Really? Oh brilliant!'

 

They went through to the console room, and he gave her a quick orientation of the console. They were already in the Vortex and the time rotor was pumping up and down.

 

'Just like an aircraft, the take offs and the landings are the tricky bits,' he started.

 

Donna rolled her eyes. 'I know, don't forget I've been travellin' with ya. Haven't quite got the hang of them yet, have ya?'

 

'Do you want to fly the TARDIS or not?' he said in a huff.

 

'Sorry . . . yes I do . . . really . . . sorry,' she said sheepishly.

 

'Right, so this section here controls the spatial coordinates.' He saw the blank look on her face. 'Y'know, where you want to go, up, down, forwards, backwards, left and right.'

 

'Oh yeah, okay.'

 

'And this section controls the temporal coordinates, what the date is going to be when you land.'

 

'Got it . . . time,' she said pointing to the temporal coordinate selector. 'And space,' she concluded, pointing at the three dimensional selector.

 

He scratched the back of his neck. 'Er, yeah, that's right. Oh, and some of the actuators are over a thousand years old and get a bit stuck, so they sometimes need a little tap with the mallet.'

 

'So that's what you call beatin' the livin' daylights out of your ship is it, a little tap? I remember when I was little, we used to have a man who would come to fix the telly. He used to bang it on the top, and bang it on the side, and it used to get the picture back.'

 

'There you are then, a valid technique for maintaining complex and sensitive equipment. Of course, you have to know where to hit it and how hard,' he told her in all seriousness. 'Now grab that lever there, and that knob there.' He indicated the controls for the temporal adjustments. 'You're going to balance their settings to keep us on a linear progression through time.'

 

'I can't believe I'm doing this!' Donna shouted excitedly.

 

'No, neither can I,' the Doctor said, more worried than excited. 'Oh, careful.' He hit the console with the mallet and pulled a lever, letting Donna take control again.

 

'Left hand down . . . left hand down! Getting a bit too close to the 1980s.'

 

'What am I going to do, put a dent in them?' she asked sarcastically.

 

'Wellll, someone did,' he said quietly.

 

`be-be-be-beep, be-be-be-beep'.

 

'Hold on,' Donna said. 'That's a phone.'

 

He took Martha's phone out of a slot on the console and looked at it with concern, remembering what Martha had said.

 

[`Keep that, because I'm not having you disappear. If that rings, when that rings, you'd better come running. Got it?']

 

'You've got a mobile? Since when?' Donna said.

 

'It's not mine.' He sat on the jump seat and flipped it open. 'Hello?'

 

'Doctor? It's Martha, and I'm bringing you back to Earth.'

 

'Tell me, how bad is it?' he asked, knowing that she wouldn't call if it wasn't something so big that one country couldn't handle it.

 

'Bad enough, UNIT have asked me to bring you in on this, I'll fill you in when you get here.'

 

He stood up and went to the console. 'Okay, I've got a fix on your phone signal, see you soon.' He adjusted the temporal and spatial coordinates, and they felt the TARDIS gently sway as she changed direction and time tracks.

 

'Who was that then?' Donna asked.

 

'Martha . . . she gave me her phone in case she ever needed me for anything.'

 

'And what does she need you for, has she still got the hots for you?' she asked with a cheeky smile.

 

He rolled his eyes and smiled at her. 'Stop it, there must be something going on that she needs help with.'

 

There was a gentle bump as the TARDIS touched down, and he shut down the time rotor and console, before walking down the ramp and opening the door. He looked right, down an alley between two factory units, and then looked left, and there she was, Martha Jones.

 

'Martha Jones,' he said hesitantly, not sure what kind of reception he would get.

 

'Doctor,' Martha said in reply, just as hesitant and uncertain. They walked towards each other and then grinned, holding their arms out for a hug.

 

'A-ha . . . You haven't changed a bit,' he said lifting her off the floor.

 

'Neither have you,' she replied with a laugh.

 

'How's the family?'

 

'You know . . . not so bad . . . Recovering.'

 

'What about you?' he asked her as Donna stepped out of the TARDIS, looking at them questioningly.

 

'Right,' Martha said, looking past his shoulder. 'Should have known. Didn't take you long to replace me, then.'

 

'Now, don't start fighting,' he said quietly in her ear, before straightening up and making the introductions. 'Martha, Donna. Donna, Martha. Please don't fight. Can't bear fighting.'

 

'You wish,' Donna said smiling and holding out her hand.

 

'I've heard all about you. He talks about you all the time,' she said shaking Martha's hand warmly.

 

'I dread to think,' Martha said, giving him a questioning glance.

 

'No, no, no. No, he says nice things. Good things. Nice things. Really good things.'

 

'Oh my God, he's told you everything' she realised.

 

Donna spotted the diamond ring on Martha's finger. 'Didn't take long to get over it though. Who's the lucky man?'

 

'What man? Lucky what?' he asked. He really hadn't got a clue when it came to human domestic.

 

'She's engaged, you prawn.' Martha waved her ring in front of him.

 

'Really? Who to?'

 

'Tom . . . that Tom Milligan. He's in pediatrics. Working out in Africa right now, and yes, I know, I've got a doctor who disappears off to distant places. Tell me about it.'

 

'Is he skinny?' Donna asked.

 

'No, he's sort of strong' Martha said with a desiring look in her eyes.

 

'He is too skinny for words,' Donna said, pointing at the Doctor with her thumb. 'You give him a hug, you get a paper cut.'

 

'Oh, I'd rather you were fighting,' he said, rolling his eyes.

 

'Speaking of which,' Martha said, taking her walkie-talkie off the belt clip.

 

'Doctor Jones, report to base, please, over,' a woman said over the radio.

 

'This is Doctor Jones, operation Blue Sky is go, go, go. I repeat, this is a go.' A convoy of jeeps, trucks and a squad of UNIT soldiers went past, followed by a car with Army top brass.

 

A soldier called out through a loudhailer. 'All workers, lay down your tools and surrender.'

 

Martha spoke into her radio. 'Greyhound Six to Trap One. B Section, go, go, go. Search the ground floor. Grid pattern delta.'

 

'What are you searching for?' the Doctor asked her as they followed her towards the entrance of a factory that had the sign `ATMOS' on it.

 

'Illegal aliens,' Martha replied.

 

The soldier on the loudhailer spoke again. 'This is a UNIT operation. All workers lay down your tools and surrender immediately.'

 

'B section mobilised. E section, F section, on my command,' Martha said into her radio, as she ran off to join the troops under her command.'

 

'Is that what you did to her?' Donna said. 'Turned her into a soldier?'

 

"That, is a very good question" the Doctor thought to himself as he looked around at all the soldiers. Unit were in the middle of a big operation to investigate the Atmos company, as a number of deaths had occurred recently in cars that were fitted with the Atmos emissions reducer and sat-nav unit.

 

 

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The Doctor ran inside the RattiganAcademy, carrying the `homemade' atmospheric converter he had just used to ignite the Sontaran caesofine gas. He stepped up into the tunnel-like teleport and turned to face Donna, Martha and the young genius who had caused all the trouble in the first place, Luke Rattigan.

 

'Right. So, Donna . . . thank you, for everything,' he said, looking at her concerned and confused face.

 

'Martha, you too . . . Oh . . . so many times.' He could see by Martha's expression that she knew what he was going to do.

 

'Luke, do something clever with your life,' he said, in the tone of disappointed father talking to a wayward son.

 

As he adjusted the converter, Donna realised what he was up to. 'You're saying goodbye,' she whispered.

 

'Sontarans are never defeated,' he told them. 'They'll be getting ready for war. And, well, you know . . . I've recalibrated this for Sontaran air, so . . .' He left that sentence hanging there in front of them, he couldn't finish it.

 

Martha realised that it would do to the Sontaran ship what it had done to the Earth. 'You're going to ignite them.'

 

'You'll kill yourself,' Donna said in disbelief.

 

'Just send that thing up on its own . . . I don't know . . . put it on a delay,' Martha begged him.

 

'I can't,' he said, almost inaudible.

 

'Why not?' Donna asked him.

 

'I've got to give them a choice,' he said as a matter of fact, before activating the teleport, and disappearing from their lives forever.

 

Donna and Martha gasped and stared at the teleport, tears stinging their eyes. He never even said goodbye.

 

He appeared in an identical tunnel on the Sontaran ship, and put the converter on the floor, picking up the button. 'General Staal, you know what this is . . . but there's one more option. You can go . . . just leave. Sontaran High Command need never know what happened here.'

 

The short, alien soldier, with a head like an angry potato, regarded him with contempt. 'Your stratagem would be wise if Sontarans feared death, but we do not. At arms.'

 

The Doctor heard the ship preparing for invasion. 'I'll do it, Staal; if it saves the Earth, I'll do it.'

 

'A warrior doesn't talk, he acts,' Staal said, as he lectured the Doctor on the basic Sontaran philosophy of war.

 

'I am giving you the chance to leave.' The Doctor spoke each word slowly and clearly, trying to get through Staal's thick skull.

 

'And miss the glory of this moment?' he said, amazed that anyone would consider missing the opportunity of a good fight.

 

'All weapons targeting Earth, Sir. Firing in twenty,' a voice said over the intercom.

 

'I'm warning you,' the Doctor shouted.

 

'And I salute you. Take aim.' Several helmeted troops raised their rifles, and there was the sound of breeches being loaded.

 

'Shoot me; I'm still going to press this. You'll die, Staal.'

 

'Knowing that you die too.'

 

'Firing in fifteen,' the intercom said.

 

'For the glory of Sontar. Sontar-ha. Sontar-ha. Sontar-ha.' The assembled troops started pounding their right fists into their left palms.

 

'I'll do it,' the Doctor shouted.

 

'Then do it!' Staal shouted back. He judged actions by Sontaran standards, and knew the Doctor would have pressed it by now if he was going to. Ever the optimist, he would always try to find a way that would preclude any violence or death.

 

'Ten,' the intercom started counting.

 

'Sontar-ha.'

 

'Nine.'

 

'Sontar-ha.'

 

'Eight.'

 

'Sontar-ha.'

 

'Seven . . .' The Doctor was surrounded by white light, and the counting stopped. He landed heavily on the floor, and tried to catch his breath, which seemed to be caught in his chest at the moment. Martha came and sat by him, hugging his arm, while Donna came and slapped his other arm hard. "Could have been worse" he thought to himself, "it could have been the face again".

 

'So . . . where's Luke then?' he said, looking around the room.

 

'He did something to the teleport, and it seemed to swap you,' Martha said.

 

'Oh. Clever kid . . . a bit misguided, but still, a clever kid.' He stood up and started to reset the teleport.

 

'I suppose he wanted to make it right, y'know, all the trouble he caused,' Donna said.

 

'Yeah,' the Doctor said, drawing in breath. 'One hell of an act of penance.'

 

He operated the teleport, and took them back to the basement of the Atmos factory, where the lifeless clone of Martha was lying against a column.

 

'Who was she?' Donna asked them, as they walked towards the door.

 

'A Sontaran clone . . . Well, a Martha clone, made by Sontarans. It was preventing UNIT from taking any offensive action against them.'

 

'Oh,' Donna said, distractedly. 'Did you get chance to look at your bum?' she asked Martha.

 

'What?!' they said together.

 

'Haven't you ever wondered what your bum really looks like, y'know, not through mirrors or anythin'?'

 

'Oh yeah, I always wanted to see the back of my head,' the Doctor said smiling at the thought. Martha looked at them both as though they were a light bulb short of a chandelier.

 

Back at ground level, they saw the consequences of the Sontaran stratagem. The dead soldiers were being put in body bags, placed on stretchers, and carried away to the UNIT Lorries, where they would be taken to the county mortuary. The dead Sontarans were also placed on stretchers, but the Doctor suspected they would be going to a laboratory in UNIT headquarters.

 

'I need to go home and get some clothes,' Martha said quietly, watching the macabre scene.

 

'What about your clothes on the clone?' the Doctor asked her.

 

'They're on a dead woman, you plonker!' Donna said as she rolled her eyes at him.

 

'Oh, right,' he said with his hands in his pockets. 'You've still got some stuff in your room on the TARDIS.'

 

'Oh yeah, I'd forgotten that,' Martha said with a smile.

 

'And while she's gettin' dressed, you can take me home,' Donna said, and saw the Doctor raise a questioning eyebrow. 'To see how they are before we go off again.'

He smiled at her, and they each took an arm as they walked back to the alley where the TARDIS was waiting.