Season 2 of the 8th Protector's wacky, weird, and wonderful adventures from the fringes of the whoniverse!
The Protector is a Doctor Who spinoff character I created and have used in other places since 2013. These stories do not feature the Doctor an...
In an unknown period of history, a battle waged upon the surface of Ruta 3, frozen home world of the Rutans. They'd been ambushed by a Sontaran fleet, and the residents of the planet were left to defend themselves during the siege. Through the frosty haze of snow and wind, Rutans fired crippling electric bolts from unseen weapons but theirs were no match for the might of the Sontaran battalion. One by one, Rutans fell as the Sontarans cleared the battlefield.
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"The glorious skirmish of war!" Shouted a Sontaran as he mowed down fleeing Rutans.
"War? This is target practice!" Responded Commander Kral, who was leading the invasion.
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The Sontarans had surrounded the Rutan survivors. Victory was in their grasp, all they had to do now was claim it. "Men! Take aim!" Kral ordered. "After centuries of glorious battle, today we claim victory for the great Sontar!"
Kral aimed down the barrel of his rifle and felt something stirring inside him. He expected it was pride, but knew that wasn't the case. It was something unknown to a Sontaran. Humans would call it guilt, regret even, but to a Sontaran, it was mere weakness.
His hour of victory was upon him and yet, it did not feel like a victory. "Men..." He began to tremble, but not from the cold. For the first time in his life, he felt conflicted. The pain he'd inflicted on this world, the permanent scar that would be left upon it from the actions he'd taken to make it so far. He thought it was all apart of glorious battle, but he was beginning to question if there was any glory in it to begin with.
What glory was to be had by knowingly sending his men into Rutan deathtraps for a strategic advantage? The survivors he'd personally tortured to find the secret to cracking the Rutan's planet wide blockade. These feelings were forbidden for a Sontaran and yet, right now, all he felt like was a murderer, not a warrior.
His men were growing confused by his hesitation.
"Commander Kral, we're ready to eliminate this vermin! Simply give the order!" Assured one of his troops.
