Chapter Text
Disabling the TARDIS recall circuit had been a more involved procedure than he'd expected. Considering the frequency with which her other, more vital systems, seemed to malfunction, it was almost inexplicable the degree of effort required for him to purposefully sabotage the link back to Gallifrey High Command. Almost. It was, after all, at least partially a security system intended to keep renegades like himself in check. He admitted grudgingly that it did make a bit of sense for such a system to be somewhat difficult to remove. That didn't make it any less irritating.
He was fleeing the Presidency for the second time in as many regenerations and after the incident with Borusa, he didn't fancy being dragged back to deal with Time Lord politics any time soon. If he'd had any sense at all, he'd have dismantled it ages ago, but it had taken the Council a long time to even note his absence, let alone attempt to bring him back, so it hadn't really occurred to him. If he'd never called them in to deal with the Warlord, alerting them to his whereabouts, he doubted the subsequent trial for interference, forced regeneration, and exile to Earth would have occurred. Once he'd regained the use of his TARDIS, he was sure he'd intended to deal with the recall circuit, but these sort of things had a tendency to get put off. Next thing you knew, a couple centuries had passed and you'd long since forgotten.
Other than the hum of the engines, the TARDIS was a remarkably quiet place now. He was traveling on his own for the first time since regenerating and finding that despite how frequently maddening his companions were, it was terribly lonely without anyone to talk to other than his ship. He'd grown quite used to the sounds of bickering voices in the console room.
He'd just left Turlough on Trion with his brother, having used the young man's request to return home as an excuse to make his hasty retreat from Gallifrey. Adric had remained behind, having finally gotten his wish to visit the Doctor's home world; the opportunity to study mathematics in the Citadel was too great a temptation for the boy to resist. The Doctor rather thought that the Time Lords would soon be regretting their decision to grant that request; no matter how fond of the lad he himself might have become, his natural exuberance, not unlike the Doctor's own as a youth, would no doubt create friction. He even missed Tegan's brash Australian voice arguing with him over his inability to land where he'd intended. He frowned as thinking of her simply served to remind him of his regrets regarding her departure from the TARDIS following their final encounter with the Mara. He couldn't blame her, three was well in excess of the number of times any sane being could be expected to deal with having their mind subsumed by a malevolent entity.
This would've been much easier if he'd still had his sonic screwdriver, he thought and added constructing a new one to his list of things to do. Climbing to his feet, the Doctor checked the console to make sure he hadn't accidentally disconnected something important. Navigation systems appeared to be online and functional, but he'd need to test it. Setting a familiar destination, he activated the time rotor and turned to retrieve his coat and jumper from the hat stand near the door.
He didn't make it that far though. There was a mighty shudder and terrific noise as the far wall of the TARDIS buckled in to reveal the prow of what appeared to be a large sea-going vessel. An old fashioned floatation ring rolled past his feet. The Doctor yelped and dashed to the controls. The shields were still down! Frantically, he cued the dematerialization sequence, reactivated the shields, and recalibrated the coordinates to land inside the ship.
"Sorry, old girl," he patted the TARDIS console apologetically, "I should have checked the shields before we left the vortex." His ship responded with a disgruntled hum.
He brushed dust off of his shirt and trousers and turned to inspect the damage. The hole in the wall had mended itself, as was to be expected, but there was still a great deal of debris strewn about the floor from the collision. There wasn't any reason why the TARDIS herself couldn't have taken care of that as well, but he suspected she was going to make him clean it up as punishment for being forgetful. He supposed he deserved that.
The view screen revealed that he'd managed to re-park her inside of some sort of coat closet so the Doctor figured some in-person reconnaissance was in order. He ventured outside the TARDIS and opened the closet door to reveal a festive party in full swing onboard the observation deck of what appeared to be a luxury starship. The Doctor spun appreciatively in place, hands in pockets, taking it all in. The guests were humanoid at a glance and for the most part attired in varying interpretations of black tie. They mingled near the bar and sat at the many tables throughout the room as a small band played holiday songs in the background.
He was about to head over to the windows to get a better look at the planet they were approaching when he was stopped by a firm hand. The Doctor looked up to see a large man in black suit staring down at him in obvious distaste.
"I'm sorry sir," the man began, "but while Max Capricorn Cruiseliners respects varying cultural expressions of attire, we do ask that our guests dress appropriately for dining in a multispecies environment."
The Doctor blinked and then looked down at himself. He was in just his regular striped trousers and rolled shirtsleeves, which ordinarily would not seem indecent enough to create a fuss about, but he was also covered in grease and white dust from the TARDIS, which he conceded might make him a bit of a sight for polite company.
"Ah. I see your point," the Doctor murmured, "I'd forgotten I was in such a state. Let me just fetch my coat and I'll get myself cleaned up before I return, shall I?" Without waiting for an answer, he pivoted and ducked back inside the closet to change.
When the Doctor emerged several minutes later, it was in a smart black tuxedo and bow tie with a cream coloured waistcoat worn beneath it. With a cheerful nod to the confused look on the large man's face who'd insisted he change, he adjusted the piece of celery fixed to his lapel and sauntered unopposed into the room.
As he approached the large porthole, an official sounding voice announced that the ship was entering orbit around Sol 3, also known as Earth, and welcomed them all to Christmas, of all things. What caught the Doctor's attention though was the name of the ship. The Titanic, really? Whose idea had that been?
He spied a computer interface on the wall nearby and wandered over to it to see if he could find any more information. When he touched the panel, he was treated to an obnoxious advertisement for the cruise line featuring its illustrious founder but devoid of any actual information regarding their voyage. He frowned and once again lamented the loss of his screwdriver, which might've come in handy here. An alternative approach occurred to him as he spotted another guest speaking with the golden robots he'd initially assumed were merely decorative, given their white robes, golden wings and haloes. He walked up to the nearest one and greeted it warmly.
"Hello, could I trouble you to answer a few questions for me please?" he asked.
"Guest information services available. Please state your query," it replied.
"Could you tell me what the local date is on the planet below us?" While he was asking questions, he might as well see if he'd landed anywhere near in time to his programmed destination.
"Information: the date is 24 December, 2008 under the most commonly accepted planetary calendar system for Sol 3. This date coincides with an important cultural festival celebrated by a large number of the planet's dominant species known as Christmas."
"2008, ah." Close enough, the Doctor thought, at least he hadn't completely broken the navigation circuits this time. "Why was this ship named the Titanic?" he asked with an amused twinkle in his eye that was entirely lost on the robot.
"Information: the name was selected in honour of the most famous vessel of the destination planet Sol 3, the HMS Titanic."
The Doctor chuckled and muttered, "I don't suppose anyone bothered to find out just why it was so famous." He glanced at the robot's impassive metal face. "Where is the Max Capricorn Cruiseliners organization based?"
"Information: Max Capricorn Cruiseliners is incorporated out of the planet Sto, in the Casivanian Belt."
"How long until we return to port on Sto?" the Doctor inquired.
"Information: the Titanic will not be returning to Sto," it answered him.
"What? Where is our destination then?"
"Information: Information: Information," the robot began jerking its head unsteadily and repeating itself. Before he could do anything, two of the ship stewards approached swiftly, apologizing for the inconvenience and one of them pressed a button at the back of the robot's neck, deactivating it.
"So sorry, sir, just a software malfunction, please feel free to use another of our Heavenly Hosts while we see that this one is repaired immediately. Merry Christmas!" the steward told him and the two hurried off straining under the weight of their metal burden.
The Doctor frowned. That had been suspiciously abrupt. But he didn't get a chance to ask anyone about it before he was distracted by the sound of breaking glass and raised voices behind him. He turned to find a man in a slightly damp tuxedo berating a waitress as she scrambled to retrieve her tray and broken glassware from the floor at the man's feet. The man dismissed her rudely and returned to his attention to the conversation he'd obviously been having through his earpiece, muttering disparagements about the staff and how it was obvious why the company was doing so poorly.
The Doctor stooped to help the waitress clear the glass. She looked as though she'd had a hard day but had admirably maintained her cool despite behaviour the Doctor felt would have challenged his own generally pacifist tendencies.
"Oh no, thank you, but I can get it myself sir," she protested.
"Of course you can, but it's Christmas, isn't it? Some of us do still remember our manners." He gave her a friendly smile. "I'm the Doctor, by the way."
She smiled back at him, tucking a stray blonde curl behind her ear. "Astrid, sir, Astrid Peth."
"Lovely to meet to you Astrid." He deposited another shard on her tray carefully.
"Are you enjoying the cruise sir?" she asked him conversationally.
"I suppose I am, yes. Though, I must confess, I am finding that a cruise by one's self is... somewhat lacking," he answered her, perhaps more honestly than he'd intended.
"Oh, you're not with anyone?"
"No, not at the moment. My friends have... well, their own lives it seems. What about you?" he asked, eager to get the topic off of himself. "We're a long way from Planet Sto."
"Doesn't feel much different," she shrugged, "spent three years working in the space port diner, then I came all this way, and I'm still waiting on tables." She brushed the last bit of glass on to the tray and they both stood.
"No shore leave then?" he tipped his head meaningfully toward the nearest porthole.
"No," she shook her head regretfully, "not allowed. They can't afford the insurance. I always wanted to try it, just once..." She turned to look out the window and he moved to join her. The planet below them was beautiful, half bright blue and brown in the sunlight, half dark save for the glittering lights of cities. Their reflections were solemn in the glass.
"Never stood on another world," she continued, softly. "I used to watch those ships heading out to the stars. Always dreamt of... Ohh, sounds daft."
The Doctor understood exactly how she felt though and locked eyes with her briefly before turning to gaze out the window as he spoke. "No it doesn't. You dreamt of the extraordinary, of venturing out beyond what you already know. There's a whole wide universe of worlds to explore, stars to see, mysteries to uncover. How could anyone stand still with that much out there?"
"...yeah," she agreed, giving him an awed look for a moment before snapping back to herself, "So! Um. Do you travel a lot, then?"
He nodded. "Constantly. When I was younger, I always wanted to see the universe. Got tired of waiting, so one day I just left. Been wandering ever since."
That look of awe returned. "You must be rich then."
He smiled and shook his head. "Hardly."
She frowned. "Then how'd you get onboard?"
He gave her a crooked smile and answered in a hushed voice, "stowed away, I'm afraid."
"You didn't!" She laughed.
"I did. Was an accident, mind you. I've my own ship and while I was doing some repair work, I bumped into the Titanic. Seemed to be a bit of a party going on, figured I might as well stay for a while."
"I should report you," she said, not at all seriously.
"No doubt." His blue eyes sparkled at her.
"I'll get you a drink. On the house." She smiled at him and hurried off with her tray before any of the stewards could catch her chatting with a guest.
His mood substantially improved after speaking with Astrid, the Doctor wandered the room, taking in the tastefully decorated Christmas tree and rapidly filling dance floor. He'd yet to have a regeneration that had any talent for dancing. Not that that had ever actually stopped his previous self, or his second, but then, neither of those regenerations had lacked for willingness to embarrass one's self. He supposed it was entirely possible he could surprise himself, since technically he'd never properly made the attempt in this body, having been rather unfortunately detained by a murder accusation the last time he'd been invited to a dance. Lacking a partner to acquire the requisite experimental data with, and reluctant to subject a complete stranger to his untested abilities, he withdrew to find somewhere to sit and await Astrid's promised reappearance.
He spotted a couple seated by themselves at a table, rather incongruously dressed in matching faux-western costumes, complete with tassels, and trying to eat whilst pointedly ignoring the sniggering at their expense occurring at the table opposite. Frowning, the Doctor noted that among the occupants of the other table was the same man who'd been so rude to Astrid earlier. He turned his back on them and approached the couple politely.
"Mind if I join you? It would seem the company here is preferable to certain other options," the Doctor opened with a significant gesture to the table behind him.
"Ignore them," said the woman, with a displeased frown, "they told us it was fancy dress. Very funny, I'm sure."
Her partner supplied, "they're just picking on us because we didn't pay. We won our tickets in a contest."
"I had to name all five husbands of Joofie Crystalle in By The Light Of The Asteroid," the woman smiled proudly, "do you ever watch By The Light Of The Asteroid?"
The Doctor shook his head. "I'm afraid I've terrible luck with watching programmes; never can seem to catch them in the right order."
She nodded understandingly. "Well if you ever do manage it, it's marvellous!"
The man continued, "evidently it means we're not good enough for that lot, they think we belong in steerage."
The Doctor's eyebrows raised. He answered in a voice loud enough to be overheard, "well, it's a terrible shame that fine manners do not always accompany fine clothes, isn't it?"
The woman smiled warmly at him and patted his arm. "Oh, I like you."
The man grinned as well and said, "I'm Morvin Van Hoff and this here is my good woman Foon."
"Morvin. Foon. Delighted to make your acquaintance. I'm the Doctor," he replied charmingly.
Foon laughed, "I'll need a doctor, by the time I've finished with this buffet. Have a buffalo wing. They must be enormous, these buffalo, to have so many wings!"
His reply was interrupted by another announcement over the ship's public address system that shore leave for passengers bearing Red Six Seven tickets would be beginning shortly. Morvin and Foon dropped their chicken and scrambled to tidy themselves with napkins.
"Ooh, that's us!" Foon told the Doctor. "You going as well?"
"Why not?" he shrugged and stood.
"Well, come on then," Morvin urged them both, eager to be on his way, "we're visiting Earth!"
The Doctor, Morvin and Foon headed over to a small queue forming near where an older man in a tweed suit stood waving large metal bracelets and calling, "Red Six Seven, this way, if you would convene, fast as you can, Red Six Seven, departing shortly!" He began passing the bracelets out to the guests as they arrived.
As he followed the Van Hoffs to join the group, the Doctor passed Astrid walking by with a few beverages on her tray. She spotted him and eyes lighting up, she said, "I got you your drink," and paused to pass him a glass of something bubbly.
He grinned at her, suddenly getting an idea. He put down his drink and relieved her of her tray, setting it on a nearby table. "And I've got you something better my dear, come with me!" Taking her by the hand, he turned and waved to the man handing out bracelets, "Red Six Seven, two more, sorry we're late!"
"Hurry up then. If you would please take a teleport bracelet, both of you," the man replied, obviously in too much of a hurry to ask for the Doctor's credentials.
The Doctor slipped his on and grinned at Astrid. She tugged on his arm, pulling him off to the side to hiss, "are you mad? I'll get the sack!"
"Brave heart, Astrid," he said cheerfully, "occasionally one must take risks to realise your dreams." His grin gained a mischievous cast.
She looked down at the bracelet in her hands and then back at him. If her mother could see her now, she was sure she'd be getting a lecture about the foolishness of running off with handsome men she'd just met, but she slipped the bracelet on her wrist anyway. She hadn't come all this way just to serve drinks to ungrateful sods with terrible manners. The Doctor looked pleased and the two of them moved closer to the group, who'd gathered for the pre-transport briefing.
The tweed-suited man introduced himself as Mr. Copper, the ship's historian and informed them that they would be going to London, familiar territory for the Doctor, and proceeded to provide them with a wildly inaccurate description of the celebration of Christmas, involving, for some reason, cannibalism and zeppelins. The Doctor raised his eyebrows at this.
"Pardon me," he asked raising a hand, "but where ever did you hear this?"
Mr. Copper sniffed and straightened proudly, "I have a first class degree in Earthonomics. Now then, if you'd all..."
He was interrupted by the arrival of a small red spiked man in a tuxedo, who barrelled up to the group frantically waving his shore leave pass.
Mr. Copper sighed, "if you would take your bracelet sir, we're about to depart."
"Hold on," the Doctor stepped forward, "sorry, but, if I recall correctly, Earth is still a level five planet. Christmas Eve, the streets will be filled with shoppers in London right now. The rest of us, we'll pass for human but, I'm sorry, what was your name?" he asked the red man.
"Bannakaffalatta."
"...Bannakaffalatta here will surely draw unwanted attention. These people have had very limited contact with peaceful alien visitors, it could be very dangerous to take him down with us. My apologies," he added to Bannakaffalatta, who looked mildly affronted by this.
"Mr. Bannakaffalatta?" Mr. Copper looked to the man expectantly.
Bannakaffalatta looked at the Doctor as though he'd been particularly dim and tapped the silver cuff on his wrist. "Shimmer," was all he said and the Doctor blinked as his brilliant red colouring was replaced with a rather convincing human appearance. He raised a simulated eyebrow at the Doctor and turned back to face their guide. The Doctor closed his mouth and returned to Astrid's side without another word.
Mr. Copper clapped his hands and stepped over to the teleportation podium. "Now then, if you're all quite finished, we're already behind schedule as it is." He pressed a button and the Doctor felt the intensely unsettling sensation of having all of his internal organs shifted ever so slightly in opposite directions before being pressed back together again that tended to accompany teleports from this era.
Despite his prediction, the Doctor found himself standing on a largely deserted city street. He turned in place, looking for familiar landmarks to orient himself. It had been a while since he'd been in London any time near this period. He vaguely recalled a rise in the popularity of personal electronics and some disquietingly authoritarian curfew laws. His internal time sense calibrated itself to the planet quickly, he'd been to Earth rather frequently, after all, and told him that it was only nearing eight p.m. Behind him, Mr. Copper was instructing the others that local currency was available to purchase souvenirs should they find something they liked.
Where were all the shoppers? He had a sudden flash of concern that there were indeed curfew laws in effect in the city right now and they were all in violation of them. It certainly wouldn't be the first time he'd been apprehended within moments of landing on a planet, but it would rather spoil the nice outing he'd hoped to give Astrid, if it came to that. He turned to find her gazing in wonder at the scene around them and smiled.
"It's so beautiful," she murmured, eyes wide.
The Doctor had seen a great many things in his long life which he would gladly describe as breathtakingly beautiful. An abandoned high street in London hardly qualified. But this was why he brought companions with him in the TARDIS; they were more than just good company, they made him see what his old and often jaded eyes missed.
Astrid was positively ecstatic, babbling, half to herself, half to him. "Oh wow! It's a different planet! I'm standing on a different planet!" The Doctor grinned, her enthusiasm was contagious. "It's cold and there's like... concrete! And shops! Alien shops! Real alien shops! And what are those, airships? In the sky, making that humming sound?" She pointed upwards at London's ever-present zeppelin traffic. She spun around to take it all in before turning to look at him. "This is amazing! Thank you!" She seized the surprised Time Lord in a fierce hug.
When she released him, he took her by the hand and said, "let's see what other marvels we can find for you tonight."
The street was not, as he'd initially thought, entirely abandoned. There was in fact a small news agent's stand with a light on not far from them, with the lonely silhouette of a man inside framed in its window. The Doctor led Astrid over to speak with the man.
Closer inspection revealed a man in his sixties, wearing a red woollen cap pulled down to cover his ears and two sets of holiday antlers festively perched atop his head. He had a steaming thermos of something warm at the ready and was watching a programme with the sound on low on a portable video screen perched on a shelf behind the counter. The headlines on the newspapers surrounding him were vaguely concerning, asking questions like "Is London Safe" and "Have We Found Them All?" "A World Remembers" read one weekly magazine nearest the Doctor; its cover featured a collage of thousands of tiny photographs, presumably of the victims of some great tragedy.
The feeling of unease in the Doctor's stomach returned. "Hello," he greeted the man, "I'm sorry, but could you tell me where everyone is?"
The man gave him a quizzical look. "Scared, I expect."
"Scared?" the Doctor asked, "scared of what exactly?"
"Where've you been, mate? S'only been a few months since they found that last bunch of 'em, hasn't it?"
"Pardon?" the Doctor wasn't sure what he was referring to.
"That Cybus lot, Lumic's metal horrors... the Cybermen," he said, exasperatedly, finally getting a response from the Doctor on this last name.
The Doctor, for his part, had gone white as a sheet. "There were Cybermen, here? In London?" He'd tangled with them before, seen the devastation of the Cyber Wars firsthand even, but those battles had all taken place in the far future. "What happened?" he asked the man, trying not to sound desperate, but well aware that this face did a rather poor job of masking his emotions most of the time. Astrid gave him a concerned look.
The older man frowned. "You really don't know? It was that Lumic fellow, they say. Thought he knew better than the rest of us what made a good human. Took over the EarPods, used 'em to lure people into his factories and used their brains for his metal monsters. Killed my Sylvia and about five million more poor souls." The man's voice was beginning to break down at this and the Doctor instantly regretted asking him to recount the tale. The man shook his head to regain his composure and continued, "but the Preachers stopped them, they did, and nobody's seen those metal monsters since they cleaned out Torchwood a few months ago. Just disappeared; everyone's worried they'll be back, you see."
He leaned forward and lowered his voice, "President Jones says they didn't kill 'em, but everyone knows the Torchwood Institute's been keeping alien technology in their vaults." He tapped his nose with a finger.
The Doctor nodded as he processed this information. He was too far removed from the pivotal events for his time senses to offer him any real clear picture of what had and would happen here but it felt like something big had been set in motion. What if the Earth was where the Cybermen had originated all along?
He knew that the fate of the entire universe, nor even, indeed, the fate of this small blue planet was not solely his personal responsibility but the Doctor couldn't help but feel a pang of regret that he hadn't been here to stop this from happening. Humanity had many faults, but he had grown quite attached to Earth over the years he'd spent travelling time and space.
He was about to thank the news agent for speaking with him but instead found himself being teleported back to the Titanic in orbit.
Back on the planet, the startled man shook his head as his potential customers disappeared before his eyes. "Tourists," he muttered and returned to his programme.
-----
The Doctor frowned as he realised he was back on the Titanic's observation deck along with the other, puzzled members of the shore leave party. He'd rather expected they'd be given some sort of warning before their planet-side time expired. He met Astrid's wide eyes and she shrugged, giving his arm a friendly squeeze as she ducked behind him to slip away from the group before one of her supervisors spotted her. Looking around, he noted that their abrupt recall to the ship had caught Mr. Copper by surprise as well; something must be wrong.
They were greeted by the anxious-looking Chief Steward who reassured everyone that their trip had merely been postponed for later due to a slight power fluctuation and that complimentary drinks would be provided as compensation for the inconvenience. Mr. Copper recovered from his own obvious confusion and began collecting the teleport bracelets from the passengers, adding in his own apologies as he directed everyone towards the bar.
The Doctor neatly dodged around the smaller man and walked up to the Chief Steward who no doubt had at least a slightly better idea of what was going on than their inept tour guide. As his luck would have it, he was joined by the same crewman with whom he'd spoken to earlier regarding his lack of appropriate dinner attire. No doubt this conversation would go swimmingly as well.
"Excuse me, what sort of power fluctuation?" he asked, ignoring the rather disapproving gaze of the large crewman. Just as he spoke, the lights dimmed and flickered alarmingly. The crowd of partygoers around them paused only briefly in their revelry before resuming as though nothing amiss had occurred.
"Nothing to be concerned about sir; just a bit of a hiccough in the secondary power circuits, playing tricks with the lighting. We have multiple redundant circuits in place for all of the vital ship's systems for just this reason. If you would just rejoin your party in the bar, the crew will have everything back to normal in no time," the man answered him in a tone that spoke of a wealth of experience placating unhappy passengers. There was a hint of tension in his eyes though, that betrayed his own uncertainty.
"I'm sure under ordinary circumstances you would, but I'm quite skilled at sensing when things have deviated rather substantially from the norm and not terribly fond of being lied to, especially when it's for my own good. Whatever it is, I assure you, I can help." The Doctor's voice was firm but quick as he began to sense the tell-tale signs of imminent disaster coiling in the timelines around them.
The man did not get a chance to respond to him though. The lights flickered again and the ship shuddered. The Doctor spun around, looking out the nearest porthole. He could see nothing more than the glowing surface of the planet below them. Another forceful shudder, and stepping closer to the glass, the Doctor could see a thin trail of gas venting into space accompanied by a smattering of small rocks whizzing past the hull. An interstellar cruise ship like this, the shields should be more than capable of repelling meteorites of that size, he thought.
The rest of the passengers had now abandoned their drinking and dancing to gather around the windows to watch the incoming meteorite shower, largely oblivious to the very real danger they were all in. None of the jolts to the ship thus far had been severe enough to convince their intoxicated brains that this was anything other than a lovely show orchestrated by the cruise line for their enjoyment.
The steward had taken advantage of his distraction to beat a hasty retreat and without official access permissions, the information panels on the walls were of little use to him, so Doctor seized hold of the first golden robot host he encountered. It had been standing to the side, seeming completely oblivious to the activity around it on the observation deck. "What is the status of the shields?" the Doctor demanded of the host.
"Information regarding ship operations not available to guests for security reasons," it replied without moving.
"This is an emergency!" hissed the Doctor in frustration. "Don't you have special protocols for that? We've already had a minor hull breach!"
"Information: you are all going to die." The golden robot rotated its head to stare directly at the Doctor as it said this.