Derelict
A short story by Mark Simpson

Second Season 6B story and part of the Second Doctor Fiction collection

"Call this state of the art?" the Doctor scoffed. "I've been on deserted spaceships with more modern technology than this."

Ferain's mouth twitched upwards slightly at the corners. He believed he had the Doctor sussed out. He looked down at the diminutive, scruffy figure beside him. The Doctor used his appearance to his advantage, playing up the clownish elements of his personality at the same time. He wrong footed adversaries who underestimated his intelligence and resourcefulness.

In short, the Doctor was smarter than he looked and acted. A perfect CIA field operative.

"It's a lot more sophisticated than you might imagine," Ferain replied to the Doctor's comment. "We don't all judge by appearance, you know," he added.

The Doctor looked up sharply to be rewarded with an almost smile from Ferain.

The taller Time Lord moved over to one of the technicians in the monitoring centre. "Can you focus on the derelict?"

"Yes, sir," the technician replied, manipulating the controls on the panel before him with practised ease.

"Strange you should mention deserted ships, Doctor," Ferain said conversationally. "Are you familiar with the Gith?"

"I know the legends, of course," the Doctor said. "But they all died out long ago."

Ferain nodded. "So we always believed. But we've discovered a spacecraft, apparently derelict, that gives off an energy signature which corresponds to known Gith technology."

On the monitor screen, a ship appeared. It was long and grey and seemed to be floating dead in space.

The Doctor frowned. "I'll need Jamie back."

Ferain shook his head. "No. The boy has been processed fully and returned to his own time. You won't be seeing him again."

"Well, I'll need someone with me. What if I get captured? Who's going to free me? I work better with company."

"You mean with an audience, so there is always someone to tell you how clever you are?"

"Certainly not!" the Doctor exclaimed.

Ferain almost smiled. "Very well, Doctor." He put a hand on the shoulder of the monitoring technician. "What is your name?"

The young man looked up, surprised. "Damon, sir," he replied.

"Well, Damon, this is the Doctor. You may have heard of him, but don't let that worry you. The two of you will be working together until further notice."

"But my monitoring shift, sir..."

"Will be taken care of," Ferain assured him. The senior CIA man turned to the Doctor. "Anything else?"

"Well," the Doctor said, thinking. "You could remove your new recall circuit and remote control devices from the TARDIS."

"You know I can't do that, Doctor. Your fellow Time Lords want you punished for your, misdemeanours, and punished you shall be, in the fullness of time. Until then, enjoy the limited freedom I allow you."

The Doctor looked glum. "You're too kind, Ferain," he snapped.

"I know," Ferain replied. "Now, I think you two have a mission. Good luck, gentlemen."

***

Damon looked about himself with interest. "It's a Type 40," he said quietly.

The Doctor looked up from his fussing over the console. "Very good, Damon," he said. "We've been together a long time," he continued wistfully.

"I saw a Type 40 once before, in the Museum of Vintage and Veteran Vehicles."

The Doctor frowned. "She's not old enough to be in a museum," he said gruffly.

"Oh, I didn't mean any offence," Damon replied hastily.

"None taken," the Doctor said, beaming.

Damon nodded his thanks. He was still a bit in awe of the diminutive Time Lord. Despite his scruffy appearance, the Doctor was quite a celebrity in the Capitol. Damon had been hearing tales of the Doctor and his exploits since his Academy days. While the High Council had only recently caught up with the infamous renegade, they had discovered evidence of his adventures from time to time. The most recent being the civil war he had caused on Skaro, the homeworld of the Daleks.

The trumpeting roar of materialisation interrupted the younger Time Lord's thoughts.

"We're landing," the Doctor told him unnecessarily.

Damon smiled weakly. He had only ever been away from Gallifrey on carefully controlled field trips. His work for the Celestial Intervention Agency was all on the technical side, he hadn't trained as a field operative. This was the unknown for him.

But the Doctor looked calm. No, he actually looked excited. He enjoyed this kind of thing.

The Doctor operated the scanner control but it didn't help much. "A darkened corridor," the Doctor commented. "Haven't landed in one of those for a while."

From the smile that crossed the Doctor's face, Damon realised this was a joke on the Doctor's part. Presumably meant to put his new travelling companion at ease.

"Hmm. Radiation slightly high, but not dangerously so. Air is a little thin, but not a problem. Gravity a little on the light side." He smiled at his young companion. "Ready to explore, Damon?"

"I suppose so," Damon replied, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

Either Damon succeeded or the Doctor chose to ignore the signs. "Good," said the older Time Lord, who had opened a wall locker and was rummaging inside. He handed Damon a torch.

Together, the two Gallifreyans stepped out of the TARDIS. The Doctor carefully locked the Police Box shaped craft after them.

"It hasn't changed," Damon said, looking at the TARDIS.

The Doctor smiled slightly. "The chameleon circuit must have beaten even Ferain's technicians," he said happily. He snapped his torch on and set off down a corridor, whistling slightly off key.

Reluctantly, the younger man followed. Shadows flickered around them where their torchlight didn't penetrate. The air seemed to press close in around them. Damon felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle.

At the end of the corridor, the Doctor discovered a sealed door. He handed his torch to Damon while he searched his jacket. After a few moments, he brandished a slim tube.

"Sonic screwdriver," he explained, setting to work on the locking plate.

Within a minute, the door slid stiffly open, revealing a rectangle of blackness.

Neither torch penetrated far into the darkness. Not a sound could be heard, except for their own shallow breathing.

"Come on," the Doctor said, venturing forward.

Swallowing his nerves, Damon followed.

The Doctor had found something. It was a bank of machinery in the centre of what appeared to be a large, open chamber.

The older Time Lord was examining the panel in front of him. It stretched from the floor to a few feet over his head. Slowly, he moved around the central column, looking over the controls.

Damon was using his torch to look around. But there was little visible in the darkness, as the beam of his torch didn't stretch to the walls or ceiling of the room. Damon shivered.

"This is interesting," the Doctor commented.

Damon jumped slightly at the unexpected voice. He followed it, finding the Doctor on the far side of the central pillar.

"What have you found?" the younger man asked.

"There is still a working system aboard," the Doctor replied, indicating a panel. A number of coloured lights were flickering in random patterns.

"Any idea what it is?" Damon inquired.

The Doctor frowned. "Not yet. I'm trying to coax enough power to activate a data screen."

Damon watched as the little man began manipulating controls, switches, buttons and levers. After a while, he stood back.

A small screen flickered into life. On it was a gridwork pattern. Down to the left hand side was a flashing blob.

The Doctor grinned. "You are here," he said, pointing to the blob. Then he indicated an area that was a different colour. "That's where the working system is."

"A map," Damon deduced.

"That's right. Now all we need to do is figure out a route." He began tracing along the map with his finger, muttering under his breath as he did so.

As his finger reached the coloured area, the screen died. They were left with just torchlight to see by.

"Did you have long enough?" asked Damon.

"I think so," the Doctor beamed. "I enjoy a good mystery, don't you?"

"I think I prefer certainty to uncertainty," Damon replied.

The Doctor's face dropped. "Oh. Well, you could always wait in the TARDIS, I suppose."

Damon shook his head. "No, I'm coming with you. I might not enjoy mysteries, but I'm not going to miss this one."

The Doctor favoured him with a smile. "Good." He started for the door. "This way, Damon."

The younger man grimaced slightly. What had he let himself in for?

***

Deep down, in the lower levels of the ship, something stirred. Systems long unused came to hesitant, flickering life. Power flowed where it hadn't for many centuries. Slowly but surely, a part of the ship was powering up.

***

"What do you know about the Gith?" the Doctor asked as they walked along a dark corridor.

"Just the basic legends," Damon replied. "They were the first species to master time travel, but they misused their power. Then they met the war-like Jagaroth. A destructive and protracted conflict ensued. The Gith lost their ability to time travel as the two races fought each other into virtual extinction. There are stories that a few Gith survive even now, but I don't believe them."

The Doctor nodded. "You've never seen a Gith then?"

"Of course not. They died out aeons ago."

"I saw one once."

Damon looked shocked. "I thought the time before Rassilon was forbidden!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, it is," the Doctor said with a slight smile. "The Gith wasn't alive. It was a mummified corpse, discovered on an archaeological dig. I was there with Steven and Dodo when it was discovered."

"What did it look like?" Damon asked, intrigued.

"Tall," the Doctor replied. "Bipedal, very thin and bald. Sharp teeth, hooved feet and hook-like nails on the hands."

"Sounds very..." Damon trailed off, lost for words.

"Alien?" the Doctor inquired. "Have you ever seen an alien? Close up, I mean?"

"Yes!" Damon replied defensively.

"But under very controlled circumstances, I should imagine."

Damon nodded. "It was a field trip," he admitted.

"What did you see?"

"It was a Dalek."

"The Academy is running sight seeing trips to Skaro?" the Doctor asked, horrified. "That's terribly irresponsible of them!"

"It wasn't Skaro," Damon said. "It was a world they had invaded. And we were hidden behind personal force screens."

"Even so, it's very dangerous," the Doctor said. "I'll have a word with Ferain when we get back to Gallifrey."

They had reached a large set of double doors across the corridor. The Doctor frowned. "These are going to be difficult to open," he commented, searching for his sonic device.

"Why?" asked Damon, placing his hand on one door. The door swung inwards stiffly.

"That's very convenient," the Doctor commented. "A little too convenient." However, he ventured into the room beyond, Damon trailing after him.

The two Time Lords looked around. The walls were covered with banks of machinery, which appeared to be working. In the centre was a raised plinth, on which sat a crystal globe, which pulsed with light.

It took a couple of moments for Damon to realise he didn't need his torch. There was enough light to see by in the room.

The Doctor was already examining the crystal sphere. He was frowning deeply.

"This isn't good," Damon heard him mutter. "This isn't good at all."

"What is it, Doctor?" he asked, stepping up to the plinth.

"I think this is a Gith sleeper ship. A number of them in suspended animation. And this," he continued, tapping the globe with a finger, "is some kind of genetic storage device."

"But all this machinery is active," Damon said, gesturing around.

"I know," the Doctor replied sadly. "I think our presence could have caused it to activate!"

Damon paled. "You mean this place is going to be full of Gith soon?"

The Doctor nodded glumly. "Our arrival set long dormant machinery in motion. This ship was set up as a trap for the curious."

"But why? What could they want with us?"

"Probably nothing. We are merely a catalyst, a wake-up call, if you like. Proof that there is life out here in space, life the Gith can enslave and dominate."

"So what do we do now?" Damon asked.

The Doctor was studying the controls below the crystal sphere. "If I can free the genetic race pod from this," he murmured.

Damon tapped him on the shoulder. "Doctor..."

The Doctor had his sonic screwdriver in his hand, playing it over the globe. "Not now, Damon."

"But Doctor, I think you should see this."

The Doctor turned around. "What is it?" he snapped. Then he saw what Damon had seen. "Oh my!"

Around the walls, eleven panels had slid upwards, to reveal eleven tall, very thin, bald aliens. Eleven pairs of eyes focused on the Doctor and Damon.

"Well, that changes things," the Doctor sighed. He switched off the screwdriver, turned it the other way up and tapped the globe with it.

It shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.

The Doctor slipped the sonic screwdriver back into his pocket. "Handy little device," he commented with a smile.

"Doctor, won't they be annoyed if you start breaking their property?"

"Quite probably," the Doctor said, reaching into the broken sphere and pulling out a fat silver cylinder.

Damon glanced over at the Gith. The aliens were advancing slowly towards them, their arms outstretched.

"I think it might be a good idea to leave," Damon said, his voice surprising even him with its calmness.

"Erm, there's a slight problem there," the Doctor replied, as he and Damon backed slowly away from the Gith.

"What problem?"

The Doctor frowned. "The Gith are between us and the door," he said.

"So how do we escape?"

The small Time Lord shrugged. "Plan B," he suggested.

"What's Plan B?" Damon wanted to know.

"Follow my lead."

The Gith were closing in on the two Gallifreyans now. The Doctor held the cylinder he had retrieved from the sphere high above his head.

"Stop!" he ordered. Obediently, the Gith stopped.

The lead alien took one step forward. "Return the race bank to us," it said, its voice deep and booming.

"Why?" the Doctor asked. "Now you've been revived, what do you intend to do?"

"We will return the Gith race to its rightful place of mastery over the Universe."

The Doctor shook his head. "I cannot allow that. The Gith had a reputation for enslavement and destruction. Your time is past."

"You cannot stop the destiny of the Gith race," the leader said.

"I have the race bank," the Doctor retorted.

"Return it and you will be spared."

"And if I don't?"

"You will be destroyed!"

The Doctor nodded. "That seems a very convincing argument. Don't you agree, Damon?"

"Very convincing," the younger man agreed. He noticed the Doctor nod to him.

"Give us the race bank," the lead Gith insisted.

"This little thing?" the Doctor asked, holding up the cylinder while moving away from Damon.

"Yes," rumbled the Gith.

"Very well. Catch!"

The Doctor threw the cylinder, but not to the Gith. It landed in Damon's slightly surprised grasp.

The scruffy Time Lord had started moving as soon as he let go of the cylinder, ducking between two of the slow moving aliens who were more interested in the airborne race bank.

Damon looked up to see eleven Gith closing in on him. From behind them, he saw the Doctor, holding up cupped hands.

Without a second thought, Damon tossed the cylinder over the heads of the aliens.

The Doctor had to move a bit to his left to catch it. "Run!" he shouted to Damon when it was safely in his grasp.

Damon didn't need telling twice. He dodged past the surprised aliens, one of which lashed out at him anyway, slicing his smock with one of its talons.

The younger man found the Doctor at the door panel, using his sonic device to open the door, which was now locked. A glance behind showed the Gith were following them.

"Hurry Doctor," Damon urged.

"I am," the Doctor muttered, a frown creasing his forehead with concentrating.

The door sprang open and the two Time Lords dashed through. It closed again before the Gith could reach it.

The Doctor again used his device as a small club, breaking the access panel on their side and fusing the door closed.

"That won't hold them for long," he told Damon. "Let's find the TARDIS."

The Gith were already hammering on the door. Damon followed the Doctor down the corridor, heading for their landing site.

The younger man was struck by how much the Police Box shell of the TARDIS stood out in the gloomy corridor. But it was also a very welcoming sight after their encounter with the Gith.

The Doctor fumbled in his pocket for the key. He handed Damon the Gith race bank while he searched.

A noise from down the corridor alerted Damon. The Gith were there, advancing on the two Time Lords and their TARDIS.

"Doctor!" Damon exclaimed.

The Doctor turned, seeing the aliens. "Oh dear," he muttered, his search becoming more frantic. Then a smile crossed his face. He produced the key, unlocked the door and pushed Damon through, following quickly and slamming the door on the Gith.

Moments later, the TARDIS disappeared from the Gith ship, heading back to Gallifrey.

***

"You have done well, Doctor. Very well, in fact." Ferain almost smiled, he was so pleased.

"Damon helped," the Doctor replied generously. "I couldn't have done it without him."

Ferain turned to the young man, seated next to the Doctor at the table opposite Ferain. "Well done," he said grudgingly.

Damon nodded his thanks. Even faint praise from the Time Lord was more than he usually got.

Ferain had turned his attention to the cylinder on the table between them. "So, this is all that remains of the Gith race," he commented, picking it up and inspecting it.

"Aside from the eleven Gith we left aboard their ship," the Doctor reminded him. "What will happen to them?"

"Oh, they've been time looped. They're no threat," Ferain said dismissively.

"Is that really necessary?" the Doctor inquired.

"I believe it is," Ferain replied, more interested in the object in his hands.

"And what about that?" the Doctor wanted to know, indicating the race bank.

"It will be safe with us, Doctor," Ferain assured him. "Now, why don't the two of you get some rest? I have another mission for you, but it isn't that urgent."

The Doctor nodded. "I'll return to the TARDIS until you need me."

Ferain shook his head. "I think not, Doctor. Your TARDIS is off limits until you need to travel. Otherwise, we have comfortable quarters for you. We don't want you trying to escape now, do we?"

"Perish the thought," the Doctor replied with a degree of sarcasm.

***

Later, Ferain walked down a narrow aisle beneath a high shelving. In his hand was the Gith race bank.

He paused, his eyes scanning the shelves to his right. At chest height, he found what he was looking for.

Carefully, he slid the container out far enough to open it. He placed the cylinder into the box, beside three similar cylinders. With as much care, he slid the box back, until it was level with all the other boxes on the shelf, all identical to each other except for an alphanumeric code on the front.

Ferain turned and retraced his steps. The room was a labyrinth of shelved aisles, but he knew his way around very well.

He reached a door and opened it, checked the corridor beyond. Satisfied it was empty, he passed through the door, closed and locked it.

Quickly, Ferain left the door behind. Upon it was a diagram of the Panopticon and a sign bearing the words: -

No Admittance.

Authorised Personnel Only.

