Doctor Who Forgotten Suns Chapter Ten

As she stood at her duty station, Sub-Commander Talamane - Second Spear of the war-mantis Indigo Flame - was beginning to wish that she had considerably more eyes than the two she was hatched with! Although she was (justifiably) confidant of her abilities as Second-in-Command, Talamane was very glad that the Clade Commander was in charge of this particular mission.

She preferred clear cut directives and objectives, not all this subterfuge and misdirection. She wasn’t even entirely sure she knew everything that was going on herself, not anymore, yet Silandor gave no indication of sharing her concerns. The man appeared to be able to think on so many levels at once – although she knew for a fact that he had refused augmentation of any kind, on the grounds that he didn’t need the distraction. As she attended the Commander and awaited further instructions, Talamane continued to observe the events showing on the main view-screen.

She saw Thadokta, the odd little alien that had been discovered aboard the derelict, trying to protest as he was helped into the airlock by two troopers.

“Please, Palasar!’ he was pleading in his peculiar accent, ‘I’m more than happy to meet this ‘Clade Commander’ of yours, but at least let me collect my friends first!”

“Don’t worry, Thadokta’, came Palasar’s disembodied voice as the view zoomed in and her hand clasped his shoulder, ‘I promise to greet your friends personally. However, from what you have said, it is even more urgent that you meet with Commander Silandor without delay - your information could change the entire nature of this mission! I do not have the authority to proceed further in such unexpected circumstances.’

Thadokta appeared to be about to protest further, but the female trooper was gently pushing his head down, while her male counterpart started pulling the hatch down after them. As the airlock closed, Palasar could be heard to promise, ‘I will collect your friends, Thadokta, you have my word.”

“I become more and more impressed with that young woman.’ The Commanders voice startled Talamane - she had not noticed his close approach. Silandor leant down to her ear and spoke even more quietly than usual. ‘I need to speak to Thadokta as soon as possible, have him brought directly to the hub. Then I want you to supervise Thraxle… doubtless he will need assistance when the Visi-Sphere shows our unexpected visitor! You are to inform him that Thadokta will be made available for questioning by the enclaves, after he has been...

‘Cleared by Medi-Bay. Yes, that sounds convincing.’

These instructions delivered, Silandor immediately turned away from Talamane and barked. ‘Specialist Manonkar, confirm that the feed to the Visi-Sphere is no longer functional.”

“Confirmed, Clade Commander, it dropped out a short while ago. We appear to be having a problem with the cable link to Specialist Palasar’s helmet feed at that juncture, Sir.”

“Unfortunate. Do any of the other team members have a direct link to the Visi-Sphere?”

“That’s a negative, Sir. Other feeds than Palasar’s can only be monitored from here in the hub.”

“Hmm… Probably for the best.” The deliberate note of irony in his statement was not lost on Talamane.

Silandor grinned in satisfaction then, after a quick glance at her, made his way back to his command throne. Noting that the Commander did not engage his privacy field, Talamane checked that her instructions had been received, then announced, “Thadokta is being escorted here now, Sir.” Silandor blinked acknowledgement, then returned his attention to his personal view-screen, presumably examining the secured feeds.

Talamane initiated augment contact with Coms-Spec Thraxle, only to hear a muted buzz of interference, before his ‘voice’ cleared through the static. He sounded distinctly agitated. Mentally castigating herself, she hurriedly accessed the visual feed on her panel. She wished that she had thought to warn Thraxle earlier…

When Thadokta had originally been discovered might have been best!

A profoundly shocked silence gripped the various enclave representatives, as an alien creature became the focus of the Visi-Sphere display.

This lasted only until the creature began speaking - speaking in understandable Oortelian! The ripple of disbelief that spread though the amphitheater was broken by Theoretical Possibilities First Revelar, whose startled shout of “That looks like an evolved Mammal!” combined both incredulity and vindication.

Thus opened the floodgates. Suddenly everyone was on their feet and talking at once: an incoherent babble that served only to confuse matters further.

At his operations console at the base of the Visi-Sphere, Tec-Op Imanol, being in such close proximity to the visualization, was feeling distinctly nauseous. The way the flesh of this odd creature’s face constantly re-configured itself… It just wasn’t natural! He turned his attention to Coms-Spec Thraxle, hoping that he might have some instructions for him, but the man was just standing at the edge of the stage in slack-jawed amazement.

Imanol managed to get his attention with some urgent hand signals, and was relieved to see Thraxle shake himself out of his fascination. The creature in the Visi-Sphere still appeared to be speaking, but its words could not be heard over the arguments of the assembled intellectuals.

Stepping to the front of the stage Thraxle attempted to restore order, but even when - much to his surprise - Archivist First Valmik joined him onstage to urge calm; neither could make themselves heard. Thraxle momentarily regretted the injunction that had prevented him from bringing a weapon along, if only so he could fire it into the ceiling and thereby get this rabbles attention, then smiled to himself wryly. It had been a sensible precaution, he was forced to admit: the temptation to fire into the audience may have proved too strong!

Shaking his head, he left the Archivist to his futile exhortations and crossed over to the Tec-Op. He had to lean in close to the man to make his instructions heard, but was satisfied to observe him address  the Visi-Sphere’s console once more, adjusting a large dial as he did so.

“Admittedly, I’m no spring chicken, perhaps a mature Cheddar, but I’m hardly…” The alien’s voice boomed out at a physically painful volume for a moment, before Imanol dialed it back down to silence, overcompensating as his tympanic membranes hummed with white noise. The tactic appeared to have the desired effect though. Everyone present had hands clamped to their heads, eyes slightly glazed with shock. Many of those standing were having difficulty maintaining their balance. Some slumped back into their seats, or leant against others for support.

Thraxle helped the Archivist First back to his feet - the old man had fallen to his knees under the sonic assault - then, after receiving his reassurance that Valmik was alright, turned to regard the Visi-Sphere once more. The alien (had it called itself ‘Thadokta’?) was still talking, still the focus of attention. However, Thraxle heard only a faint buzzing as his tympanic membranes recovered: perhaps the Tec had been a little too enthusiastic in following his instructions, he thought ruefully.

Suddenly he felt the familiar alert twinge, as his communications augment was activated. As the room began to settle down, and everyone felt their hearing return to something approaching normal, Thraxle left it to the Archivist First to assert control over his fellows. He was more interested in the information being relayed to him by Sub-Commander Talamane.

For his part, Valmik was recovering himself by sheer force of will, his determination fueled more by anger at his colleagues’ hysteria than by anything else. Whilst he would freely admit that what they were witnessing was totally beyond either proposed or accepted theory, the Archivist First felt personally shamed by this descent into unscientific reactions - if not outright panic! Although he deeply resented the crude tactic employed to bring the audience to heel, Valmik had every intention of using this lull to restore dignity and professionalism to the proceedings.

“You call yourselves Scientists?’ He bellowed, every word dripping with rage and contempt. ‘You call yourselves Philosophers? Theorists? Intellectuals?’ Valmik paced along the stage, gaining strength from his vitriol. He made sure to sweep his gaze across everyone that he could, trying to give the impression that he was addressing each of them personally. ‘We have all made this journey expressly to discover the unknown, have we not? Yes, we may have our own expectations, our own preconceptions, even our own personal hopes! But do we not also have enquiring minds? Maybe this… this ‘evolved mammal’ is beyond anything that we may have anticipated - but is that any excuse to lose hold of our senses? This alien is intelligent! It speaks our language! And it is on The Ship of The Ancients!

‘Think about that for a moment…”

Valmik swept his gaze across the auditorium once more, pleased to find the majority of his fellows looking distinctly uncomfortable. Many were now shifting in their seats, expressions ranging from embarrassment to shame: the First’s - those who would meet his eyes - merely looked somewhat chagrined, as they blinked slow acknowledgement of his words.

As silence slowly fell, Valmik realized that he could no longer hear anything from the Visi-Sphere. Turning to face it he noted that it still showed a view of the alien, although the sound had obviously been muted completely - by mistake, he hoped.

“Since this unusual being is obviously able to talk to us…’ Valmik gestured an interrogative towards the operator who, on receiving a nod of permission from his distracted looking superior, began increasing the volume slowly. As he left the stage to resume his seat, Valmik continued, with enough authority for it to be heard as a directive, ‘I strongly suggest that we listen to it!”

Settling himself comfortably, the Archivist First made a great show of directing his complete and total attention to the scene being relayed from the Ship.

Currently, they were following the alien as it was being escorted to the airlock that, Valmik recognized, lead back to their own vessel. Two troopers could be seen waiting by the open hatch, then the alien’s face grew larger in the screen, causing a few involuntary flinches amongst the viewers. “There is only one of me, but two dear friends of mine are behind that door. We arrived here by accident, and our ship was damaged - all that we really want to do is leave! As for speaking your language… well… let’s call it a gift, shall we?”

The alien paused and then, if Valmik was interpreting its unfamiliar physiognomy correctly, appeared about to say something that it believed to be of some importance - when the Visi-Sphere suddenly went blank without warning! All eyes fixed on the man operating the device, and he immediately leaned back and swung his hands clear. “It wasn’t me!’ he asserted swiftly, ‘I haven’t touched anything since I put the volume up again!”

“Is this a malfunction, or a deliberate obstruction on the part of Clade Commander Silandor?” Valmik demanded, once more instantly consumed with anger and suspicion. The Tec shrugged helplessly and looked towards the communications specialist, whilst deliberately rising and backing away from the console. He evidently had no more idea what had happened than his ‘Fellow Oortelians’.

Meanwhile, Coms-Spec Thraxle was once more advancing towards the stage-front: holding up a hand to request silence, as he listened to something that nobody else could hear.

“Yes... yes, I understand, Sub-Commander.’ He was evidently speaking out loud instead of sub-vocalizing, so that everyone could hear his side of the conversation: Valmik was forced to grudgingly admit the efficacy of the ploy. ‘I shall pass that along, Sir,’ he continued, nodding towards those nearest, ‘Yes, I am sure that everyone will be pleased to hear that, Sir. Will you be maintaining this link, Commander?’ Thraxle nodded at the reply - indeed, he appeared on the verge of standing to attention and saluting! But he smoothly turned the movement into a wide-armed bow towards his audience.

‘My apologies. I have just been in communication with Sub-Commander Talamane, speaking on behalf of the Clade Commander himself. I have some news that will interest all of you. If I may be permitted to speak without interruption?”

Valmik choked down his anger, and nodded acquiescence as Thraxle gazed pointedly in his direction - then belatedly realized that he had risen to his feet, ready to fight. Keeping his thoughts to himself, the Archivist First seated himself once more and folded his arms across his chest, waiting to be impressed.

Taking his cue, Thraxle began his address. “Firstly, allow me to reassure you that the loss of feed to the Visi-Sphere is a simple technical malfunction. Indeed, there is no actual fault with the device itself - the problem appears to be at the other end. The problem seems to lay with Specialist Palasar’s visualizer itself, and by great good fortune, the Technician who knows most about this system is also aboard the Ship with Palasar. I am assured that he will have the problem sorted out in good order.”

Now addressing the Visi-Sphere operator, Thraxle continued. “Tec-Op Imanol, if you would please return to your station, I will be requiring your assistance shortly.’ The thoroughly bewildered technician did as instructed, while Thraxle announced at large, ‘Now, Fellow Oortelians, this is the news that I believe will make your forbearance and patience worthwhile! Clade Commander Silandor has already issued instructions that this alien creature, that speaks our language, is going to be made available to you for questioning! As Archivist First Valmik stated previously, this is obviously an intelligent being, and the Commander believes that it would be in everyone’s best interests for it to meet our finest minds.”

A susurration of excitement and enthusiasm rippled around the auditorium, and Valmik found himself caught up in it, even though he anticipated disappointment and deception wherever Silandor was concerned. He scrutinized this Coms-Spec carefully, and noted the theatrical timing as the man began nodding once more, listening to the ghost in his head. “Yes, Sub-Commander, thank you for the update, I shall inform our revered guests immediately, Sir! Thraxle, out.” The exultant gaze he offered was just shy of the obvious - the boy should have been an Imagineer, in Valmik’s not-so-humble opinion!

“I have just been informed that the alien is even now being brought aboard the Indigo Flame ! Naturally it will have to be examined in Medi-Bay, to insure that it carries no harmful organisms, but we do not believe that this will cause too much delay. Obviously, from what we have seen ourselves, our initial contact team suffered no ill effects. May I suggest that, in the meantime, we review the recordings made of that first meeting? As I am sure you are aware, none of us really studied those events, er… dispassionately … as they were occurring. Tec-Op Imanol, please replay the encounter from the point at which the creature first appeared. I assure you that your systems are functional.” The Visi-Sphere operator busied himself about his console, and events that had already transpired once more bloomed within its globe.

As the view moved towards the giant doorway, the huge portal whisked open.

Now framed in the visualizer was a small… creature. Although it’s lower half was partially obscured by the lower lip of the door-seal, it was clearly Oortelianoid - two arms, two legs, one head. But there the resemblance ended. Those parts of its anatomy not concealed by protective clothing were an unpleasant pinkish-white color, and there was a thatch of dark fur on the top of its head…

It all happened very fast.

Jamie was struggling against the urge to do something - anything - when there was a sudden blur of motion, and Zoe shrieked in surprise. Jamie hadn’t even coherently registered what he had seen, as he instinctively started towards her, but he was stopped almost immediately by a vice-like grip clamped onto his shoulders. He began struggling instantly, inspired by pure animal reflex. He had no idea what he was fighting against, but he thrashed about wildly anyway. He felt no concern for his own personal safety: he was driven only by the over-riding imperative to protect Zoe, from whatever was attacking them! His violent struggles had an unexpected effect.

Suddenly, whatever had hold of him crashed down onto his back, but did not release its grip. Even though he was a fairly hefty chap, this unexpected weight-load knocked him forward. He would have fallen to the ground, had he not collided with another figure that seemed to appear out of nowhere. His head felt like he had just butted a brick wall, and the unknown assailant behind him used his momentary grogginess to re-affirm its grip.

As Jamie shook his head to clear the fog that threatened to envelope him, he felt it being forced back until he could see the silhouette of the man before him. But it wasn’t a man. Jamie had met many unusual aliens in his travels with the Doctor, however, most of them distinctly unfriendly, so he was not unduly thrown by the creature’s appearance.

“What kind o’ Sassenach's are ye’ to attack a man from behind?’ he roared, spittle flying into the apparitions face, ‘we’ve done ye’ no’ harm!” His unrelenting struggles against whatever held him served no purpose, so he relaxed in its grip, conserving his strength for a time when it may prove more useful. He wanted to look over to the other side of the corridor, but was unable to move his head. ‘If you’ve hurt Zoe...!” he started to say, but found himself trailing off into silence, as he truly registered what he was seeing for the first time. It was a lizard. Not that he knew much about lizards - but some deep core memory insisted that the creature he was facing was reptilian.

It had cold eyes that expressed no emotion, peculiar cross-shaped pupils set within glowing orbs, and its disturbingly human-like features were marred only by the absence of an evident nose. Instead, two slits pointed down from the below its eyes towards a mouth that reminded Jamie of the Ice Warriors he had met; but this impression was only momentary. He found himself transfixed by the monsters eyes, as a peculiar colouration appeared to form around them, and then expand across the aliens face.

Slowly increasing in speed, waves of differing patterns of colour began to travel across his captors features, drawing him in inexorably. Jamie found himself fighting against the temptation to drift off into sleep, as the kaleidoscopic patterns dancing across his vision lulled him towards oblivion.

He felt his head slowly drooping down towards his chest, even as he fought against this strangely hypnotic effect. It was only the sudden cry of alarm, from the captor behind him, which prevented Jamie from succumbing to the reign of Morpheus. “Aaaiieeh!’ rasped a panicked voice, jolting him back into a state of semi-consciousness, ‘ behind you, Atanalis! Look behind you!” Jamie felt dislocated from reality as he was released from confinement, falling heavily to the floor and smashing his face into the deck.

Fighting against the ringing in his head, he forced himself to look for Zoe, only to see her comatose form being hauled up the wall by two more lizard-men!

Galvanised by the sight, Jamie began dragging himself across the corridor towards them, oblivious to the blood dripping from his nose. When he realized that he was no longer being restrained, Jamie struggled to his knees and took a sharp look around, preparatory to regaining his feet.

He fully intended to hurl himself after Zoe, and do whatever he could to rescue her, but froze when he realized that he was now behind his own attackers - and could see what had distracted them.

The spaceman was back again, only now he had removed the helmet that had concealed his features before. Apart from being ridiculously big, he looked very human, and very angry

And he was hurtling down the corridor towards them!