‘Iam in so much trouble,’ she whispered. She’d only gone and lost the TARDIS, hadn’t she? ‘Apart from the fact that we’re all going to die, of course,’ she added.
Another explosion rocked the ship, the distant screech of torn metal galvanising her into action. She turned to Kellique.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘No TARDIS. You’re sure there are no other escape pods? Not even an emergency one…?’ Donna shook her head. ‘What am I on about: all escape pods are emergency ones, aren’t they? And you’re sure the transmat is down?’
Kellique nodded.
‘What about pod eight?’ said Boonie suddenly.
‘Eight’s been out of action for months,’ Kellique reminded him.
Donna jumped at this. ‘Out of action? Why?’
‘The locking mechanism’s seized up – the external clamps have become vacuum welded.’
‘So what you saying? That it’d work if you could get it unwelded? Never heard of WD-40? Never mind,’ Donna added at their blank faces. ‘Can’t we wiggle it loose? Cut it free?’
‘Not from inside, we can’t, and the EVA suits are all gone. And besides, they’re four-person pods – and there are five of us. And Mother’s not exactly compact…’
Donna ran her hands through her hair – and was thrown against the wall as the ship bucked beneath their feet again. Think, Donna, she told herself. Think!
And then she caught sight of Mother.
Mother!
D’uh!
‘You sure this is designed for four people?’ grumped Donna as she squeezed through the tiny hatch into pod eight alongside Boonie and Kellique. Arms and legs and elbows were everywhere. ‘Four midgets, maybe.’
‘Oi!’ squeaked Weiou as he, too, tumbled into one of the padded seats set around the inside of the little vehicle. ‘Nothing wrong with midgets!’
Kellique shook her head as she buckled up. ‘You sure this is going to work?’ she asked Donna.
‘No,’ replied Donna sharply. ‘Of course I’m not sure this is going to work, but if you’ve got a better idea, now might be quite a good time to tell us about it. Mother!’ Donna craned her neck to see Mother, still outside the pod’s hatch. ‘You ready?’
Mother nodded silently – and with a dull clang the hatch sealed itself.
‘Well,’ said Donna, sitting back and smiling. ‘Isn’t this nice? Very cosy. How long will it take her, d’you think?’ she added as they were rattled by another – much bigger, much closer – explosion from somewhere on The Sword of Justice.
‘Now there’s no one left on board,’ Boonie said, checking his watch, ‘Mother can just open the bulkhead and get out that way. If this is going to work, we’ll know about it soon. One way or another.’
Donna took a deep breath. She only hoped she wasn’t condemning them all to death in the escape pod. The realisation that, even if they could get the escape pod free, there wouldn’t be room on board for Mother had been the trigger: in a flash Donna had realised that, of course, Mother didn’t need air. (Neither did Weiou, but Weiou didn’t have the brute strength that Mother did).
The plan was obvious in its simplicity. Maybe too obvious – which made Donna a bit suspicious of it: the three humans and Weiou could get in the pod, Mother could clamber outside the ship and free the docking clamps before hitching a ride on the outside of the pod. Kellique had checked that the pod’s thrusters were still working, so there’d be no problem in steering it towards the space station that had emerged from Sentilli. Obviously, there was no way to tell what kind of welcome they’d receive when they got there; but it had to be better than staying to be blown up.
All four of them started as a sudden harsh, metallic clanging sounded through the pod’s hull. And then another. It was like something monstrous was trying to tear its way in.
‘Sound worse than it is,’ said Kellique, registering the look on Donna’s face. ‘Trust me. Even if I’m not a doctor.’ She smiled grimly.
There were more clangs – and then an ominous grinding sound.
One final clang and a creaking, tearing groan that seemed to drag on for ever before it ended in silence.
‘She’s done it!’ cried Kellique. ‘That’s the clamps disengage- whoa!’
The pod suddenly lurched, and it was only the fact that they’d all belted themselves in that stopped them from being flung around the cramped interior. The lights suddenly dimmed to red.
‘What is it with the red lights on spaceships?’ complained Donna. ‘It’s not like we need a status report from them, is it? Oh God, I feel…’
‘Gravity’s offline,’ said Kellique.
‘Never have guessed,’ said Donna, trying to keep a grip on the contents of her stomach.
‘Whoo!’ cried Weiou excitedly. ‘Hang on everyone – here we go!’
Anyone watching from outside would have been clenching their fists in anticipation: a line of explosions was bursting out from the skin of The Sword of Justice, rippling along it, twisting and warping the vessel’s hull, heading towards the tiny blister of emergency pod eight. And, hugging itself tight to the pod was Mother, spreadeagled on the top of it and clinging on for dear life.
With a flare of blue light, the pod’s thrusters fired up and it popped free of the ship, as the wave of explosions swept across the mothership. Slowly, but building up speed rapidly, the pod jetted out into the cold blackness of space, a tiny, silhouetted spot against the raging inferno it was leaving behind.
In mute disbelief, still held in the robot’s steely embrace, the Doctor could only watch as The Sword of Justice slowly accelerated through the Sentilli system, on a collision course with The Torch.
It was a brave – but futile – hope.
Streams of gas and fuel trailed out behind the pathetic, battered wreck of a ship, turning it into an artificial comet. All across its hull, lights were going out. Tiny explosions erupted all over its surface, sending clouds of sparkling debris out into space. The absence of a sun made it hard to make out any details, but the Dark Light’s sensors were enhancing the image, showing the death throes of the ship in all their sad glory.
Donna…
The Doctor could only hope that she’d either escaped in a lifeboat, or that she’d had the sense to take shelter in the TARDIS. Assuming that his lovely little blue box hadn’t already been blown out into space.
‘Target acquired,’ said Ogmunee with relish, catching the Doctor’s eye and flashing him a cruel, toothy smile.
‘Finish it,’ Garaman said, almost wearily. ‘We’ve got more important things to be getting on with.’
From the side of the screen, a thick pencil of deep purple light sprang up, stretching away into space, skewering The Sword of Justice through its flank like it were a kebab. For a moment, nothing happened – the ship continued to move, allowing the beam to slice it open along its side. And then a cascade of explosions started up, glowing boils of gas erupting into the darkness, one after another. Finally, the little ship could stand no more. As the purple ray reached the tail of the ship, its innards began to glow – first a dull red, and then upwards, faster and faster, through yellow and white through to an eye-searing blue. And then the screen flared white and the Doctor closed his eyes.
Donna.