Not too far ahead, someone wearing their full spacesuit and darkened helmet was moving small containers. They moved with stiff limbs characteristic to robots (or people doing a very good imitation) and Ophelia's stomach sank at how it most like had a dead body inside.
"Hello!" The Doctor quickly scanned before leading them inside very quietly inside, Bill tried waving her hand in front of their blackened visor. Both got promptly ignored, hissing from the suit's hydraulic system as it lifted and lowered boxes never stopped.
"Has he got his tunes on?" Lift, lower, repeat.
"Not exactly." The sonic screwdriver caused their helmet to fly, detached from the spacesuit, which froze mid movement.
"Whoa!" All three stepped back, gasping loudly.
"Calm down." His shocked friends would have murdered him right there if it were possible. "It's empty."
"Couldn't you just tell us?" Ophelia let go of her friend's arm, head turning around to check for imminent threats.
"Are you trying to scare us?" Angry Bill made a rare appearance.
"I'm maxing out your adrenaline." He gestured around with his index fingers. "Fear keeps you fast. Fast is good."
"Do people ever hit you?" Bill's hands rested on the back of her neck, a gesture she often used when in need of calming down.
"Well, only when I'm talking." Which is pretty much all the time.
"So, it's basically a robot?"
"Ah, well. Sort of. Fairly dumb. Capable of simple tasks. So you'd better watch your step." Nardole raised his eyebrows and smiled in amusement before quickly sharing what he'd seen about an error with Ophelia. "You could be out of a job. And ah! Speech."
At the press of button in a wrist display, they'd woken up an empty space suit.
"Hello, suit."
"Good morning." Funnily enough it had an american accent. "How may I assist?"
"Oooh, recognize that voice." Both girls smiled at Nardole's small trip down memory lane. "Yes! Nice girl, actress, bit orange. Left me for an AI in a call center."
"What killed the crew of this station?" Attack eyebrows ready, he went straight to their most burning question.
"I am unaware of any recent deaths." It's placid voice made them uneasy.
"What about the oxygen?" He insisted on getting something useful. "Where did it all go?"
"There has never been any oxygen in this station." Ophelia got a little crease between her eyebrows like she did when trying to correct a (rare) handwritten essay or one where the person used a synonym dictionary. Though cohesive, something just felt deeply wrong.
"Oh, listen to that. Still saucy after all these years." Nardole laughed, still in his little world.
"Explain."
"Oxygen is available for personal use only, at competitive prices." The Doctor's face steeled as information dawned on him.
"It's only in the suits. Personal use. They only have oxygen in the suits themselves."
"Any unlicensed oxygen will be automatically expelled to protect market value." She continued to talk in her american accent, jogging an ex's long forgotten memories.
"Charging for the air you breathe. She hasn't changed." He looked disgusted. "What was her name?"
"Hang on." Bill stood in place as the time lord walked by, getting more worried as time passed. "Didn't we just fill this place with air?"
YOU ARE READING
ADIUTRIX | DOCTOR WHO
Fanfiction"you can always trust the helper." The Doctor expected many things from a twentieth-second century party, not one of them had included a new companion. {I also don't own Doctor Who}
