by Doctor Who
Grimacing with strain, he wrenched his legs away from the water, barely wrapping them around the loading arm in time as his fingers slipped, and he found himself dangling upside down, waves whipping at his hair.
'On the plus side,' he thought, 'at least that leaves my hands free.'
In a flash, the Doctor had the sonic screwdriver pointed at a control box, and the loading arm began to swing around with a whine of servos, sweeping towards Henk, who remained oblivious to the presence of his additional passenger.
'Hello, stranger!' cried the Doctor, arms open wide as if ready to embrace an old friend.
Henk's eyes widened in shock, noticing too late as the loading arm swept towards him, carrying its insanely grinning payload. The two bodies slammed into one another, and the next thing Henk knew he was on the deck, tangled beneath a mass of bony limbs and an enormously long overcoat. He kicked hard, his boot connecting with the Doctor's chest, sending the interfering fool flying. Henk scrambled to his feet, blaster in hand, and waved it menacingly in the Doctor's direction.
'I've just about had enough of you,' Henk shouted wildly, his face crimson, the personification of rage. Flecks of saliva flew from his mouth, as he poured all his anger and frustration towards the Doctor. 'Do you have
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any idea how much money I could have made out of this little number? Do you? Between you and that rancid Krillitane witch, you've ruined everything. Everything.'
Sprawled on the deck, the Doctor looked angrily back at Henk.
'What you were doing was wrong. Beyond unethical. What's worse, Febron knew it and still carried on. The Krillitanes are sentient beings.
Whatever they've done, however ruthless they are, they still have rights.'
'I couldn't give a Pescaton's scaly fin for Krillitane rights. No amount of ethics will buy you your own solar system, Doctor. For all I care, they can kill each other and any stinking Earthling that gets in their way. But you know what? You, I'm going to take great pleasure in killing myself.'
With a cold, unpleasant sneer, Henk raised his blaster and took aim.
Unaware of events transpiring within the Cathedral, the Krillitane horde had overcome Captain Darke's defensive forces, thundering onwards over the bodies of the dead.
'Captain, they've breached the wall,' shouted one of the men, as Darke wearily pulled his sword from the belly of a felled beast, one of so many they had slain. The Krillitanes surely hadn't expected to encounter such a spirited opposition, he reflected, proud of his men.
A hiss, terrifyingly close, alerted the Captain to another attack, and he swung round to find a Krillitane bearing down upon him, fangs glistening. He stumbled backwards, struggling to lift his sword, but there was no
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time. Then, with a thump and a whimper, the creature tumbled to one side, a pike embedded in its back. Darke breathed a sigh of relief, as young Miller retrieved the weapon that had just saved his life. They took refuge behind its lifeless body.
Exhausted, Miller panted, 'What shall we do? There are too many off them.'
'Keep your head up, lad. We're not finished yet,' Darke reassured him. But the young man was right: they were vastly outnumbered, and clearly this line of defence had failed. Yet even with the casualties they had suffered, they had brought down a great many Krillitanes, and the Captain drew strength from that fact. 'However bad this gets, these beasts are not invincible.'
Already the last of the Krillitanes were at the wall, scaling it with ease and moving onto the buildings beyond. The battle would have to move on, into the city.
'Miller, find any of the men who can still fight. We need to regroup, chase the devils down and attack them from behind, while our secondary line engages them at the High Street.'
'Sir.' Miller got to his feet and made off towards the gate, where a few of the troops were already gathering.
Darke dragged himself up and began to follow Miller, but he'd barely gone five paces when a new sound echoed from within the Cathedral, a howl, deeper and more threatening than the bat-like hiss of the Krillitanes. Miller and the other men heard it too, and looked to their commander, unsure what to do.
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The Captain tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, listening, waiting for any sign of the source of that tremendous noise. For a moment there was nothing, save for the deafening silence that followed all battles, and then the howl rang out again, closer this time. Much closer.
Toch'Lu pitched and took another dive at the Esteemed Father, but her strike was parried by the larger Krillitane, and he slashed at her right wing, claws ripping through the thin web of skin as she flew past. The wing was ruined, little more than shredded rags, and it was all Toch'Lu could do to remain in the air long enough to find her footing on the sloping roof without smashing into it.
'If your forebears could only witness the lack of respect you show the Beast of Bessan, they would be ashamed,' the Esteemed Father snarled, stalking Toch'Lu as she fought to regain her balance. 'Your generation, so thrilled with the power of flight, you think those wings are a mark of your superiority.'
They are a symbol of progress, of the future, to those of us who recognise the true destiny of the Krillitanes,' Toch'Lu snapped back, edging towards the apex of the tower, desperate to retain some tactical advantage over her rival by holding the upper ground.
The Esteemed Father feigned a lunge at his opponent, gaining a little ground on her in the process. 'Destiny? We live to hunt and kill and conquer. What greater destiny is there?'
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'But we could be so much more. Why do you refuse to acknowledge that?' They had had this argument before, many times, but Toch'Lu was desperate to make him understand. 'We, alone in the universe, have the power to shape our physical form, yet we are capricious, fickle, adopting attributes such as these wings on a whim, because they delight us. It is time we used our ability to discover our ultimate form, the physical embodiment of everything the gods created us to be.'
'Do not presume to lecture me on the will of the gods. I am the Esteemed Father, Guardian of the Faith, the twelfth-born of the twelfth-born, as it ever shall be, as it ever was. I am the servant of the gods. I am the destiny of the Krillitanes.'
'You are blinded by dogma and enthralled by your own self-importance,' the Brood Mother retorted. 'Your time has passed, cousin. The Krillitanes must follow a new path.'
'And you would lead them?' The Esteemed Father made no attempt to hide his disdain, but there was a wildness in Toch'Lu's gaze that unsettled him, a look of ideological fervour.
'Still you do not understand. My followers and I have no interest in personal gain, or the attainment of power. We merely wish to shepherd the Krillitane race in its endeavour to reach our fullest potential. The destiny of the Krillitanes is not to serve the gods, but to replace them.'
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cannot allow that.' For the first time there was no malice in the Esteemed Father's tone, just a dry, unequivocal statement of fact.
Then it is your time to die,' hissed Toch'Lu, and with a screech of fury she launched herself at her adversary, bringing both of them crashing onto the tiles.
Clawing and biting, the combatants bounced across the roof, rolling down towards the edge. Toch'Lu continued her frenzied attack as they tumbled, oblivious to the vicious blows the Esteemed Father dealt her. She was determined to pull him over the edge, even though the fall would certainly kill them both. Her life was unimportant. She would face her final judgement secure in the knowledge that she had sent the Krillitanes upon the path of progress.
Realising her plan, the Esteemed Father abandoned any effort to defend himself and instead scrabbled to grab hold of something, anything that would halt their descent. Ti
les splintered as his claws tore through them, but he was powerless to halt their inexorable descent. As the world spun around him he saw it was too late, and they shot over the edge, falling, plummeting downwards.
With a wrench, sudden pain shot through the Esteemed Father's shoulder, ripping through muscles and tendons like jagged glass. By some miracle, their fall had been interrupted.
Toch'Lu hung from his waist, the claws of one hand digging into the flesh above his hip. He looked upwards, ignoring the agony, curious as to who had saved him.
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Broken Wing returned his gaze, then looked towards Toch'Lu. Her face was calm, at peace, ready. It was time. The Krillitane released his grip on the Cathedral's stone facade, and the three of them fell, together.
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he Krillitanes spread across the city like a virulent _ plague, a Ttorrent of grey-brown bodies crawling through every gap, every possible hiding place in their hunt for the traitor. They moved northwards at speed, through empty houses where breakfasts had been left on tables, fires still burning in hearths, until they caught up with the stragglers, the old and the weak, those unable to flee in time.
Then the Krillitanes feasted.
There was little Butcher and his men could do to help, except carry out their orders to evacuate, but the panic spread too quickly for the soldiers to contain it, and the streets flooded with screaming people, running wildly, praying, or simply falling to their knees, waiting for the hounds of hell to drag them into the underworld.
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he had spent more than a few bawdy evenings. He tried the door, but it was locked. The publican was a good man, but his wife was a stubborn sort. He'd wager she wouldn't want to leave. 'John, are you in there? Open up. You must leave at once. Your lives are in danger.'
John Garrud's muffled voice came from the other side. 'We aren't going anywhere. Leave us alone.'
The soldier looked back along the street. The Captain's plan had stalled the progress of these dastardly invaders as long as it could, but now all was lost. If he could just save this one last household...
'You'll die if you don't come with me right now.' But his pleas were met with stoic silence.
He heard a disturbance, the clatter of pots and pans being thrown aside, back along the street in a house he had already checked was clear. They were close. Too close for him to escape. Butcher unsheathed his sword, resolving to make a stand. He didn't have to wait long.
Two of the ugly trolls sprang lightly from the shadows of an alley. It was the first time Butcher had seen them up close, and the sight filled him with dread. They sized him up, barking at each other, then the first leapt at him with a hiss. The soldier ducked to one side, bringing down his sword and burying its blade deep in the beast's skull.
The second was on him almost instantly, fangs locked around the forearm he'd instinctively raised to protect himself. His mail armour and leather jerkin offered scant protection as the teeth tore through to the bone, and Butcher screamed out.
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'Leave off him, you horrible brute,' shouted John Garrud, storming out of the inn wielding a heavy iron poker, its tip glowing red hot. He swung it at the Krillitane with all the force he could muster and heard the sickening sound of bone caving in. The creature slumped over, and John grabbed Butcher, dragging him back inside as three more Krillitanes bounded up the street.
Before there was time to bolt the door, a Krillitane forced its head through, trying to push it open, but the monster hadn't counted on Gertrude and her candlestick. 'You get out of my inn this instant, or so help me..." she screamed, belting it about the snout repeatedly.
'You're barred. All of you.'
The battered alien whimpered, pulling back, and John slammed the door shut, bolting it and barricading it with an oak table for good measure.
Laying down the poker, he knelt beside the wounded soldier and propped him up, trying to get a look at the poor soul's bleeding arm, which Butcher was clutching close to his chest.
'Are you all right? What the 'ell is going on out there? Demons and brimstone? It ain't normal.'
Gertrude hurried over with a bowl of water and some torn cloth, and began to dress Butcher's damaged arm. 'Leave him be, John, he's hurt.'
'No, they're not demons, John. The Captain told me,' Butcher rambled. They're allies of Matilda, come to steal the throne of England. That Doctor fellow seemed to know all about them.'
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'Doctor?' Gertrude sucked her teeth, as if she'd expected as much. 'I should have known all this was something to do with him.
He's barred and all.'
Something outside crashed against the door. The Krillitanes were trying to smash their way in, and all three humans looked towards it, listening to the hungry squeals clearly audible beyond.
John touched his wife's arm, and said calmly, 'Come on, Gert, it isn't safe here no more. We have to go.'
Gertrude nodded, resolute and determined despite the tear in her eye. They'd better not be here when I get back,' she sniffed, and together they lifted Butcher and made their way to the back entrance.
Without anyone at the controls, the skiff had slowed to a halt, floating a little above the water and drifting gently towards the river bank.
Henk looked down at the irritating man lying on the deck. It was about time the Doctor got what was coming to him. 'I'm sure I'm not the first to say this, Doctor, but you really are a total pain in the—'
He didn't get the chance to say any more, as white light exploded violently behind his eyes. Darkness flooded through his senses and he crumpled to the deck, unconscious. Behind him, clutching the maintenance clamp she'd just smashed into the back of his head, stood Emily.
She smiled at the Doctor. 'Who was rescuing who there, exactly?'
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'Let's call it quits.' The Doctor grinned, leaping to his feet and giving her an enormous hug. 'Better get him tied up.'
While Emily quickly secured Henk, the Doctor examined the skiffs payload of barrels.
'What are you planning?' Emily asked, watching him skip from barrel to barrel.
'Have you ever heard of crop dusting? It's a method of controlling insect infestations on agricultural farm land. A plane flies in low over the crops, and literally dusts them with insecticide. Think of the Krillitanes as your insects and their oil as—'
'Insecticide,' Emily interrupted, shocked at what the Doctor was suggesting. 'But didn't you say that makes them explode? How is that any less cruel than what Henk was doing?'
The Krillitanes won't stop once they've found Toch'Lu. They won't leave Earth until they've hunted down every living thing, tasted all it has to offer and taken whatever they want. They'll leave it a barren wasteland, so it's them or a million million species. I've got no choice.'
The Doctor looked haunted, as if this course of action were in some way a failure on his part, and Emily understood he didn't take it lightly.
'Besides, hopefully it won't come to that. I've got a plan.' The Doctor had a mischievous glint in his eyes, all hint of worry gone.
There used to be this TV show, well, there will be this TV show, called One Man and his Dog. Sort of like an assault course for sheepdogs and farmers.
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Well, I always thought I'd be pretty good at it, and now I'm going to have a chance to find out. We fly this thing over the city walls and spray them with oil. That should put the wind up any stray Krillitanes, and stop them moving any further. Then we'll move inwards..."
Emily grinned, understanding. 'Shepherding the Krillitanes back towards their ship. Brilliant.'
'Isn't it? I wonder what kind of altitude we can get in this thing?'
The
Doctor became animated again, hurrying over to the skiffs controls. He checked some readings, and then yanked open an access panel. Pulling out a circuit board, he started making adjustments with the sonic screwdriver. 'Not high enough. I'll have to override the safety compensators. There.'
Replacing the circuit board, the Doctor threw himself into the pilot's chair and began to flick switches, ramping up the power to the engines. He winked at Emily, and smiled a wild, excited smile. 'I'd hang on to something if I were you. This is going to get hairy.'
'What in heaven's name is that?' Miller exclaimed in a hushed voice. 'A dragon? Where did Matilda get a dragon?'
'She must've sold her soul to Beelzebub, God help us,' whispered another of the men.
Darke gazed upon Henk's creation in wonder, spellbound by its majestic, deadly beauty. It was a dragon, there was no other word to describe it. The stuff of legends. As if the other Krillitanes hadn't been terrible
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enough, they now seemed like lambs compared to this monumental beast.
Having smashed its way through the Chapter House door, the Krillitane Storm had found itself alone in the cloisters garden, feeling the fresh air against its skin for the first time in many months.
Almost joyfully, the huge animal had lifted itself from the ground with elegant, languid strokes of its enormous wings.
Darke's men had looked on in astonishment as the thing had appeared from behind the Cathedral, landing almost delicately amidst the snow and dead bodies.
That it should fall to him and a handful of his beleaguered men to confront this awe-inspiring creature of mythical proportions! It was absurd, impossible. But confront it they must.
'Form a perimeter,' Darke instructed, betraying no hint of the fear that burned in his stomach. 'Surround the animal and move forwards.
It can't take us all on.'
Some perimeter, he thought. Haifa dozen tired, brave men against that thing. The dragon's head swung this way and that, tracking the movement of the troops as they took up positions along its flanks and to its rear, barking and snapping at them, wary but unsure of their purpose.
