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Mud. Bricks. Dust. Shouts. Shots. Chaos.
How many times? How many times now had ran through this broken landscape, past the same dead and dying soldiers?
That broken TARDIS. It had to be. It needed to be. It had thrown out it's shield encasing the whole battlefield and was repeating the same hour. It was a defence mechanism. So all Veklin needed to do was open the doors, and switch off the emergency defence protocols. Easy.
So why hadn't she managed it yet?
Always, something went wrong. Caught the blast from an enemy explosive. A stray bullet in her leg. Crushed by falling rubble.
Failure after failure.
The memories came forth, unwanted.
You dare to question me?
You're overreacting.
I didn't think you cared.
You've completely failed.
If you'd been a bit more intelligent…
A disobedient dog is of no use to me.
Always following orders. Through aching muscles and burning wounds and still she wasn't loyal enough, trusted enough. Ignored, shut out, looked down on. Still Ollistra gave her orders and turned away. Still Veklin stayed because what else could she do? Who else would see her as anything more than another expendable soldier? Because she would be more than that, was more than that. More than these fragile fighters dying all around her again and again and again. She would prove it. And maybe Ollistra would hesitate and turn back, smile, let her in—
Mud. Bricks. Dust. Shouts. Shots. Chaos.