Fight For Freedom |4| The Ascension

Chapter Thirty Three: The Rebel Flesh

The atmosphere in the control room was one of peace and relaxation that morning. Music from Muse was playing, Pietro, Zoë, Amy and Rory were playing darts, and McKenzie was reclined on the jump seat with her eyes closed. The Doctor was at the console, connecting JENSEN up to the TARDIS to back up the data while simultaneously running another scan on Amy's pregnancy--or perhaps lack thereof. The TARDIS still wasn't sure.

"Forty-six," Amy scoffed, tutting as she saw Rory's score. "Rubbishy, rubbishy, rubbish."

Rory blinked. "Hello? It's a double top."

"Wrong side of the wire, mister," Zoë pointed out, grinning.

"Oh, man," he sighed.

"You're on the oche, Red," Pietro grinned, motioning for Amy to step up to the mark.

Suddenly, the music turned off and they all looked around to see the Doctor smiling, McKenzie sitting up in confusion. "Who wants fish and chips?" Rory and Pietro put their hands up eagerly. "I'll drop you all off. Take your time. Don't rush."

"Er, and you?" Amy raised her eyebrows.

"I've got things to do," the Doctor told them. "Things involving... other things."

Zoë shrugged. "Well, we'll stay with you. We'll do the other things."

He chuckled. "Nope."

McKenzie narrowed her eyes, looking in his general direction. "Whatever you're up to, I personally would very much like to be a part of it." He sighed, and she raised her eyebrows, hearing it. "What?"

Before he could answer though, a loud klaxon blared, making her cover her ears, wincing. The TARDIS jumped into an exceedingly jerky flight, sending them all flying.

"Solar tsunami!" the Doctor shouted, reading a diagnostic from the scanner as he helped his wife to keep her balance while she fumbled for her visor. "Came directly from your sun. A tidal wave of radiation. Big, big, big!"

"Oh, Doctor, my tummy's going funny," Rory complained, clutching at his stomach.

"The gyrator's disconnected," McKenzie reported, still trying to unplug her visor without damaging it. Pietro had long been in awe of how she could tell what was wrong with an engine just by listening to it, and today was no exception. "Target tracking is out."

"Assume the position!" the Doctor yelled, pulling his wife safely under the console as they hurtled towards the Earth. After a series of painful bashes and crashes, the TARDIS went still.

"Ugh," Zoë groaned, rolling onto her back. "On balance, I think I preferred Ultron."

"Incomparable," Amy scoffed, wincing as she got to her feet.

"Oh, I don't know," Zoë shrugged. "Both times my leg came off."

"You're telling me?!" Pietro complained, rubbing his shoulder. "I swear, that thing works like a high-powered missile when it hits you midair." He threw it back to her.

She smiled. "Спасибо, милая."

"Textbook landing," the Doctor joked, getting to his feet, then winced as they heard the crunch of plastic underfoot. "...ah."

"Uh, what was that?" McKenzie asked, accepting a hand up. "That was not a good 'ah'."

"Well, it's sort of a good news, bad news situation," the Doctor admitted, picking up the shattered form of what used to be her visor.

"Oh goodie," she sighed. "Come on, then, hit me with it. Short and sweet."

"The good news is, I didn't break your visor when I stepped on it," he told her.