Doctor Who?

The Yard

The Doctor gasped and fell down, his head spinning, the noise still ringing in his ears, the pain, oh, the pain! But he calmed his breathing, shut his eyes and gathered his thoughts. After a few minutes of silent lying down, the Doctor sat up and flicked his eyes open. He glanced down at the candlestick, which he had snapped in half during the first few seconds out of the chaos. It hadn't disappeared, but had rusted and was covered in burn marks. The Doctor sighed and slowly tried to stand up and, on the fifth attempt, managed it. "I'm weak." he said quietly and feebly, in a voice that displayed his ancient life. He cleared his throat and looked around the room. "Now where the devil am I..."

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A low rumbling. Sparks. A scream here and there. Some were just in general, but others were directed at the figure that walked slowly through the war-torn streets. They wore a dark, hooded cloak that hid the face, but not their voice. And then they were gone. 

"Wh-who was that?" a street urchin clambered out from hiding, not expecting a reply. But they received one. A tall figure, in black Victorian dress stood where the cloaked figure had been, gazing off into the distance.

 "I fear, that that man. That disguised figure. He- was the Doctor." He turned to face the urchin and smiled. A grim smile.

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The ZISP's main spaceship hanger was busy, and it was with little difficulty that Zly guided May onto his ship. It was a mile long, two miles high and one mile wide. The hull used to be bright red, but had rusted and worn into a brown dust. Four nuclear-delta engines hummed loudly as they warmed up for the long trip. Zly frowned. He scrutinised the engines from afar but couldn't see an issue. 

"There's something up with those engines. You stay here." 

May was taken much aback. "Excuse me! I am a Timelady! I was toying with the building blocks of nature the same time you were figuring out how to walk." 

But Zly was already tending to his engine, unaware of May. "What's happened to you?" Zly spoke quietly and affectionately to the engine, "There's been time distortion... How could this happen?" He beckoned May over. "Ok then, superior being of the universe, there's been some time distortion apparently. Explain that." 

The Timelady shut her eyes and breathed in deep. She placed her hands in prayer and froze. For ten seconds she held her breath before looking up, alarmed. "It appears that I am not the only Gallifreyan here. Leaning against the hull of the ship she felt along the wall, searching for something. 

"What is it?" questioned the engineer.

 "There should be... Ah! Here it is!" May help up a thumb, which was stained black. "Do you know what this is?" 

"Residue." 

"Yes, but what sort of residue!" 

Zly felt belittled. "I don't know, why don't you tell me." 

"Time residue. Somebody's opened up the time vortex near here... We need to get into your ship."

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The door of the bridge opened with a hiss of hydraulics. 

"It's just through here." 

Zly Miller stepped through, pulling the Timelady behind him. She looked out of place in the dirty interior of the ship, as she still wore her Gallifreyan headdress, plated with gold. 

"Are you going to take that thing off?" 

May looked insulted. "It shows my level in society." she said stubbornly.

"Suit yourself- ah, here we are." Zly turned to a store room door, indicating that May should enter. Suddenly, a loud bang was heard within. A face appeared at the frosted glass. The handle started to turn. Zly gulped. The door was flung open.

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Prefect sweated heavily as he ordered the pilots and officers around him. Someone will notice. Please can someone notice. He thought to himself as he requested permission for take off. A blip on the screen notified him that one of the engines was defective. "For God's sake..." he muttered, and pulled the intercom mic towards his mouth. 

"Could Chief Engineer Miller see to the hydro systems of the South Engine, thank you."

 "Are you alright sir?"

Prefect jumped "What? Oh, right, yes everything's fine thank you." He offered a shaking smile to his first officer, who returned to his post with a grim expression. "Right then everyone, ten minutes till deep freeze." He announced.

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The Interplanetary freighters of the thirty-second century were renowned for being the most efficient spaceships ever. The engines created a field of entropy and fed in radiated antimatter, which cancelled out the barriers of low physics and allowed the starships to jump between realities, an anti-reality and the original, which meant that they could leap hitherto unpassable distances in a matter of seconds. However, this created mass distortion of any conciousness that travelled, leaving those awake during the process without a mind. In order to counteract this, the interior of the ship was placed in a field of frozen stasis, with the crew set to awake on arrival. Zly had learnt all about these engines during his training and had leaped at the opportunity to work with them. That was how he'd found a job on The Yard, the third most powerful freighter in the inner sector. He normally looked calm and composed, yet with an air of anger about him, as though the smallest action could deter his mood. However, at the current time, he was neither calm nor composed. A look of shock was plastered across his face. The store room, his store room, that only he could enter, had been broken into, and the culprit was in front of him. 

"How..." 

The man across the door frame was also shocked, but not at Zly. For he was staring directly behind him at May, slightly confused. Zly withdrew his pistol and held it directly at the intruder. 

"Now don't do anything irrational." 

Zly cocked the gun. He pointed it into the intruders eyes. 

"You really don't want to do that." the Doctor spoke fiercely, a clear tone of threat in his voice. He raised his eyebrows. "Do you." 

It was May's turn to speak "It's you, isn't it? But you're dead!" 

The Doctor smiled "It's one of my tricks-" 

"You killed my family." Zly took the limelight. 

"I'm sorry?" 

"You killed my family!" 

"No, don-" 

Zly pulled the trigger. The gun fired.