Doctor Who - Incarceration

Part Eleven - The Final Confrontation

At first there was nothing, just the distant hum of machinery winding down into hibernation accompanied by the slow waning of the lights. Seconds ticked by with the weight of hours, a seeming eternity of held breaths and shuffled feet. Slowly, their eyes adjusted so that they could make out the outline of the door, the TARDIS and the Doctor's frantic form.

Clara frowned as she watched him bustle from the girl to the console and then over to the TARDIS, casting a thin rectangle of light into the room as he peered inside. Her attention was snatched away as a faint sound came from outside, a thump at the door leading from the control room to whatever was beyond.

The doors exploded inwards, scattering their makeshift barrier across the room. Clara waited until the dust settled and then peered above the wardrobe which she was hiding behind.

"My, my, Doctor," grinned the Valeyard. "Breaking the TARDIS and setting us free once is unlucky; twice is just downright careless. You're developing a habit of making things easy for me. Not that I'm complaining, of course."

"This is your last chance," shouted the Doctor. "Walk away now and live."

The Valeyard threw back his head and laughed. "Kill them," he snapped at his companions. "Kill them all."

With a roar, Absolom Daak launched himself over his own barricade, straight at the attacking vampires. He was joined by his comrades, SIlurian, Sontaran and human all fighting side-by-side against the malicious creatures. Clara watched as Jenny joined in the fray, marvelling at the young girl's poise and power as she whirled in the midst of grasping claws and teeth, fighting them back in some lethal form of ballet. In the distance, somewhere behind the attackers, she heard a metallic voice shout "Exterminate!"

"Really?" she muttered, and turned to warn the Doctor but then held her breath: he was already preoccupied.

"So kind of you to fix my TARDIS," the Valeyard leered as he stood in front of the Doctor. "And to sacrifice your own to do that: very noble."

"She's not yours," spat the Doctor. "Never will be."

"That, my friend, is where we shall choose to differ. Now, step aside and let me claim what is mine. Or do I have to prise it from your cold, dead hands? Actually, I'd prefer that."

Clara's hand closed around a twisted metal pole at her side. Her heart in her mouth, she slowly rose to her feet and fixed her eyes on the Valeyard's upper back. Just like playing cricket, she thought. Swing it nice and hard; and try to forget how much you hate cricket. She ran toward the Valeyard, bringing the pole to bear on the man's prone back.

At the last minute, the Valeyard turned and plucked the pole out of the air, his face showing mild irritation as though she were a mere fly buzzing round his face. He looked at the pole and sighed, throwing it across the room. "I am getting tired of all these interruptions," he snarled. "This. Ends. NOW!" With one massive sweep of his arm he batted her across the room.

The impact of her body against the wall was echoed in the Doctor's shout: "No!"

Clara slumped to the ground, dazed and bruised but otherwise unhurt. She shook her head to clear it and waved a hand in the vague direction of where she thought the Doctor was, to reassure him she was still alive.

"Now you've done it," the Doctor snapped. "Attacking the two most important people in my life is a very, very bad move. You know who she is and what she means; so you know why I now have to destroy you."

"Look around you, Doctor." The Valeyard gestured round the darkened room at the inert control panel, the dead TARDIS, the prone girl and the fight which was slowly being won by the vampires. "You're losing this one. Give up, accept your fate. Join me and we can achieve so much; I'll even let your friends live."