Doctor Who BBCN20 - The Pirate Loop

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by Doctor Who


  ‘I’m sorry,’ said the Doctor, kindly.

  ‘If I hadn’t won him over. . . ’ said Mrs Wingsworth.

  ‘He’d have been a poorer badger,’ the Doctor finished for her. ‘You showed him a better life. And that’s what he died for.’

  Mrs Wingsworth sniffed. ‘I suppose.’

  ‘So,’ said the Doctor. ‘You’ve got stories to tell your clever family when I get you back to them.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘I don’t expect they’ll be very interested, dear. They never were in me. That’s why I was on the Brilliant. You see,’ she added nervously, ‘it wasn’t the war I was running away from.’

  The Doctor took one of her tentacles in his hands, calming her. ‘You should be proud of all you’ve done here,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, I am!’ she said, snatching her tentacle from him. ‘It’s just they would never think so. Because they never do!’ Her eyes opened wide at this sudden revelation. ‘Because,’ she said, more quietly, ‘they just aren’t worth the bother.’

  ‘You don’t pick your family,’ said the Doctor. ‘Trust me, it’s an achievement just to survive them sometimes.’

  Mrs Wingsworth laughed, a deep belly rumble rather than the high, sarcastic tinkling she had used before, when laughing at other people’s failings. ‘All right,’ she said, slapping a tentacle against the Doctor’s shoulder in a manner most unseemly for a Balumin of her age. ‘No more feeling sorry for myself and sulking in the corner. And they can either like it or lump it.’

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  ‘You go, girl,’ said the Doctor.

  ‘Believe me, Doctor, I intend to,’ said Mrs Wingsworth. ‘Now let’s sort out this wretched pirate captain, shall we?’

  And with a ding the lift arrived at the bridge of the pirate ship.

  The doors eased open to reveal a passageway of hanging silks, behind which badgers worked controls. The air was rich with exotic spices, flavours from all over the cosmos. It was a sign of just how widely travelled these badger pirates were. Mrs Wingsworth took the Doctor’s elbow, and – again acting as if they were honoured guests –they stepped forward. At the end of the passageway, they could see Archibald and Jocelyn held captive by their former badger comrades.

  And, down some steps, Martha and the ferocious pirate captain gazed out of a wide bay window at the Starship Brilliant.

  The Doctor and Mrs Wingsworth were just in time to see a beam of blinding light strike the Brilliant and blast it into pieces.

  ‘No!’ yelled Martha at the pirate captain. ‘You’ve killed the Doctor!’

  ‘Er,’ said the Doctor. ‘Actually, she missed.’ The badgers wheeled round, astonished at this intrusion. ‘Sorry to butt in,’ said the Doctor, skipping down the steps to join them in front of the great bay window.

  He waved at Archibald and Jocelyn and winked at Martha. ‘But we saw a light on and thought we’d just pop in. Any danger of a cup of tea? Or some of those cheese and pineapple on sticks?’

  ‘I said!’ said Archibald, straining from the badger who held him captive to tell his other former comrades. ‘I said they was good!’

  ‘You all right?’ the Doctor asked Martha.

  ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Fine. Getting a bit bored of all this, to be honest.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said the Doctor. ‘Well, don’t worry. Have it all fixed in a jiffy.’ He turned to the tall badger captain in the collarless blouse and eyepatch. She was tall for one of the badgers, her high-heeled boots meaning she could look the Doctor straight in the eye. ‘Hello there!’

  he said. ‘You must be Captain Florence. Nice to meet –’

  Captain Florence roared, and the next thing the Doctor knew he was skidding on his back across the floor, the impression of a hairy fist hot across his face. ‘Ow,’ he said. Beside him lay another badger pirate, who’d clearly just suffered a similar rebuke from the captain.

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  ‘Now really,’ muttered Mrs Wingsworth from where she stood by Martha. ‘There’s no need for that sort of behaviour.’

  Captain Florence slapped her hard across the face. Mrs Wingsworth cowered under the blow, her tentacles raised to protect herself from being hit again.

  ‘This ain’t fun and games!’ the captain roared. She looked up at the badgers who had emerged from the silk hangings so as not to miss seeing the fighting. ‘Amelia!’ she barked. ‘Samuel! Find out how these two got aboard!’ Two badger pirates scurried back to their controls.

  The Doctor slowly picked himself up off the floor. ‘There’s really no need to be like this,’ he said. ‘I just wanted a chat.’

  ‘You got surn’fin to offer us, ’ave ya?’ leered Captain Florence.

  ‘A better life than you’ve got at the moment,’ said Mrs Wingsworth.

  ‘With canapés and tea,’ added Archibald. He turned to the badgers holding him and Jocelyn prisoner. ‘You gotta try ’em,’ he said. ‘They’re good.’

  ‘Er, yeah,’ said the Doctor. He stepped up to Captain Florence, though just out of reach of her punching him again. ‘I’m disappointed you’ve not already listened to your friend Archie.’

  Archibald bowed his head. ‘I tried tellin’ ’em,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, I’m not blaming you, Archie,’ said the Doctor kindly. ‘It’s just a shame your management aren’t open to suggestions. Not looking to new investment opportunities, to expand the business portfolio.

  Doesn’t say much for their long-term prospects, if you ask me.’

  Captain Florence pulled the gun from the belt around her waist.

  The Doctor tutted at her. ‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘That’s the solution to everything, isn’t it?’

  But the captain didn’t shoot him. Instead she shot Mrs Wingsworth.

  She didn’t scream or cry out and, as the pink light ate her up, she kept staring defiantly at the captain. Captain Florence stepped back as the corpse collapsed in front of her. She looked a little shaken.

  ‘Right,’ she said, pointing the gun now at Martha.

  ‘Captain!’ called one of the badgers from behind the hanging silks.

  ‘Karl and Robbie ’ave got the capsule what them two just arrived in!’

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  ‘Good,’ said Captain Florence. ‘Dump it inn a space an’ use it for target practice!’

  The badgers cheered – target practice was clearly a bit of a treat.

  The Doctor felt his hearts heave. He couldn’t believe their guns could destroy the TARDIS, but he didn’t like the idea of her being sent tumbling off through space without him.

  ‘Right,’ said Captain Florence. ‘Archie. You better tell us wha’s so good ’bout this canner-pea stuff.’

  Archibald wrenched free of the badgers holding him captive and came forward. He grinned at the Doctor and Martha, then turned on his heel, his back to Captain Florence. Instead, he addressed his former comrades.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘They ’ad this food on the Brillian’,’ he told them. ‘It was small but there was lots. And when you ate it all, then you jus’

  closed your eyes and there was more. It was good. It was food an’ it was good to eat. It had. . . flavours. Tha’s it, really.’

  ‘Very eloquent,’ said the Doctor. ‘Very stirring. You should go into politics or something.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Archie. He turned round to face Captain Florence and, perhaps because the Doctor and Martha were there, perhaps just because he’d been shown a better life, he didn’t look at all fearful of her.

  ‘It’s good,’ he told her.

  ‘It may be,’ she said to him quietly, and it looked like she had really considered what he’d said. ‘But there’s a problem, in’t there?’

  Behind her, through the bay window, the tiny shape of the TARDIS

  tumbled helplessly through space.

  Beams of blinding white light

  struck out at it from the pirate ship.

  ‘What problem?’ said Archibald.

  ‘We blown up the Brilliant,’ said Captain Florence
. ‘So there ain’t no more good food for ya!’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ shrugged Archibald. He turned to the Doctor, and looked about to say something. But instead he screamed out as pink light engulfed him.

  Captain Florence had shot him in the back.

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  Martha felt numb with horror as Archibald’s body collapsed to the floor. She ran to the Doctor, who stretched his arms around her and held her tight.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘I promise it’s going to be all right.’

  ‘Yeah,’ growled Captain Florence savagely. ‘But not fer you!’

  The Doctor let Martha go and carefully ushered her round so that he stood between her and the captain. Martha glanced round looking for anything that might help them, but their only possible ally, Jocelyn, was being guarded by two other badger pirates.

  ‘Yeah, OK,’ the Doctor said to Captain Florence. ‘I was just being optimistic. But that’s not a bad thing, you know. And anyway. You think we’re in trouble. What are your clients gonna do when they find out you blew up the Brilliant?’

  Captain Florence laughed. ‘We got the experimen’al drive,’ she said.

  ‘No,’ said the Doctor. ‘You’ve taken the control desk for it. But the drive is a huge great engine at the heart of the ship. Which you’ve just blown up. Like nicking the remote control, but not the remote-control car. Schoolboy error.’

  Martha didn’t know if the Doctor was just bluffing – but neither did the badger pirates. The badgers around them, watching from 151

  the shadows and from behind the hanging silks, all began to murmur nervously. Captain Florence roared at them. There was a sudden, terrified silence. But Martha could tell that the Doctor had done what he always did, and undermined the tyrant. The badgers who had grown up on this miserable, vicious ship, were now just starting to question if there wasn’t more to life.

  ‘The client,’ said Captain Florence. ‘Said to nick the drive or blow up the ship. An’ we done both.’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ said the Doctor, loud enough for everyone to hear him.

  ‘I’m sure they’ll see it that way. Might even deign to let you live.’

  ‘What?’ growled the captain.

  ‘Well, look at it their way,’ said the Doctor. There’s this war coming.

  They want this experimental drive to use as a secret weapon. And they hire you lot to snatch it.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Captain Florence.

  ‘You’re paid for your services. And very well you’ve gone about providing them. But what happens when you deliver this top secret experimental drive to them? You’re then free to go to their rivals and, for a suitable fee, tell them what you stole.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Captain Florence, her crafty little eyes lighting up at this suggestion.

  ‘Exactly,’ smiled the Doctor. ‘So you think they’re going to let you walk away?’

  ‘What you mean?’ asked Captain Florence. ‘They’re ’on’rable men, our clients.’

  ‘So honourable they hired pirates to do their dirty work!’ said Martha.

  Captain Florence leered at her. ‘We’re not pirates,’ she said. ‘We’re independent financial wotsits.’

  ‘You mean you’re venture capitalists?’ said the Doctor.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Captain Florence.

  ‘Entrepreneurs?’ asked Martha.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Captain Florence.

  ‘Saps?’ suggested the Doctor.

  ‘Huh?’ said Captain Florence.

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  ‘You’re saps, stooges and patsies,’ said the Doctor. ‘They’ve got you doing their dirty work and you think that they’ll be grateful!’

  ‘Don’t you get it?’ added Martha. They hired you because you’re nothing to them. Nothing at all. You’ve been taken for a ride.’

  Stanley, the badger who’d brought Martha aboard and who still lay on the floor in the corner where Captain Florence had hit him, sat up.

  ‘Does that mean,’ he said, ‘we won’t get paid?’

  ‘I assume you got half in advance,’ said the Doctor. ‘It might be better just to cut your losses and run.’

  ‘Nah,’ said Captain Florence.

  ‘Nah, you’re not going to run?’ asked the Doctor. ‘Or nah, you didn’t get any money in advance? No don’t tell me, I think I already know.’

  Captain Florence didn’t say anything. Instead she charged at him.

  The Doctor ducked under her, caught her hairy arm and tossed her lightly over his shoulder. She crashed into the floor, her high-heeled boot smacking into Stanley where he lay.

  ‘Temper, temper,’ said the Doctor.

  Badgers rushed from behind the hanging silks, but they did not come to apprehend the Doctor. Instead, they gathered in a circle around the Doctor and the captain, all eager to see the fight. It was, thought Martha, like the fights that boys used to have at school. She hurried over to Jocelyn, their only other ally. Jocelyn’s captors seemed to have forgotten her in the excitement.

  Captain Florence got to her feet. She reached for the gun at her belt but it had gone. She looked up to see the Doctor holding it, as if he were surprised to find it in his hands.

  ‘Oops,’ he said.

  ‘You gonna shoot me?’ asked Captain Florence defiantly.

  ‘Nah,’ said the Doctor. ‘You’ve got to have some other way for re-solving disputes like this. Haven’t you?’ Martha suspected that the badgers did just sort out their arguments by shooting one another.

  ‘We duel,’ said Captain Florence. She slid a short, jagged dagger from her belt. ‘Can you duel?’

  ‘I expect so,’ said the Doctor. And to Martha’s amazement he withdrew a matching dagger from the pocket of his suit jacket. ‘Took this 153

  from Dashiel earlier,’ he said. ‘Think it’s what he would have wanted.’

  He handed the captain’s gun to one of the other badgers.

  Captain Florence lunged at him with her dagger.

  The Doctor

  dodged, light on his feet like a well-practised wrestler. Captain Florence lunged again, and again she missed.

  ‘Martha,’ said the Doctor, enjoying himself but never for an instant taking his eyes off the captain. ‘Did I ever take you back to Roman-era Egypt?’

  ‘Er,’ said Martha. ‘Don’t think so.’

  ‘Well,’ said the Doctor, dancing nimbly around Captain Florence, making her do all the work. ‘When I’m finished here, that’s where we should go.’

  ‘Yeah, all right,’ said Martha. She glanced round. The badgers watched in rapt silence. The Doctor’s quick and nimble movements simply made their captain seem old and slow and stupid. Again, Martha could see their badger brains struggling to make sense of this challenge to everything they’d been brought up to believe. The kind of reaction most people had when they’d spent five minutes with the Doctor.

  ‘Thing is,’ said the Doctor, still moving around inside the ring of wide-eyed onlookers, ‘you should spend a day with the captain of Cleopatra’s guard. Taught me all my best moves. And won a medal at the Olympics.’ He ducked under Captain Florence’s arm as she struck out at him, rolling expertly and leaping back on to his feet. A few of the badgers applauded. Captain Florence glared at them and charged at the Doctor again.

  ‘Oh, very good,’ said the Doctor, catching Captain Florence’s arm in his, sticking out a leg and tripping her over it. ‘You nearly had me there.’ The badgers cheered – more than half of them now on the Doctor’s side. Jocelyn nudged Martha in the ribs.

  ‘You fancy the Doctor!’ she grinned.

  ‘I do not!’ Martha protested.

  ‘S’OK,’ said Jocelyn. ‘I do a bit ’an all.’

  Captain Florence and the Doctor faced each other. The Doctor stood tall, calm, his hair hardly even ruffled. The captain bent forward, 154

  breathing fast and raggedly, her bristly fur glimmering with sweat.

  She looked exhausted, and it wasn’t just the fight. Martha could see her struggling
to cope with being so openly challenged, and the Doctor not showing one iota of fear. It was wearing her down. Martha almost felt sorry for her.

  ‘Tell me if you’re getting bored with this,’ the Doctor said to Captain Florence. ‘And we can do something else.’

  ‘Varmint!’ roared Captain Florence and charged at him. They grap-pled, their arms locked together, the captain’s jagged dagger just inches from the Doctor’s face. He struggled to resist, pushing and twisting to gain purchase, but she clearly had the weight and strength advantage.

  Slowly, slowly, the captain forced the dagger closer to the Doctor.

  Jocelyn grabbed hold of Martha in her excitement and horror. The Doctor strained, gritting his teeth and he struggled to fend off the knife that almost touched him.

  And then he suddenly stopped trying. He fell back onto the floor and Captain Florence, who’d been pressing so hard against him, toppled over too. The Doctor rolled quickly out the way and the captain crashed hard into the ground. She let out a terrible cry of pain, making all those watching flinch. The Doctor got to his feet, the dagger still in his hand.

  ‘Don’t we stop for orange squash at some point?’ he said, not quite as lightly as before. He wiped the sweat from his forehead on the back of his sleeve.

  Some of the badgers gasped. Martha turned to look as Captain Florence rolled roughly over onto her back. The captain grunted, struggled to catch her breath. Her own dagger protruded from her chest, the collarless blouse she wore already stained with blood.

  The Doctor ran forward. ‘I can help,’ he said. But she slapped him hard with the back of her paw and sent him reeling backwards. He lay, amazed, his hand up to his cheek.

  Captain Florence got unsteadily to her feet. She shook off the badgers trying to assist her. Martha could see the dagger had gone in deep. And that there was little any of them would be able to do to 155

  save her.

  ‘You win the duel,’ said Captain Florence, her voice rough and ragged with exertion.

  ‘Let’s call it a draw,’ said the Doctor from where he lay.

 

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