Люмия пишет:
- Прекрасная работа, генерал Хакс, - ещё никогда его звание не звучало так сладко, так подчеркнуто-заслуженно, как сейчас. Темная леди умела карать и хвалить, сегодня Армитажу досталось последнее, а Трауну… Трауну то, что осталось.
Она даже не стала поправлять его о гарантиях безопасности, в конце концов, он мог отвечать за своих людей. К коим Люмия не относилась. Сама женщина намеревалась разнообразить свой вечер очень личной беседой с чиссом… очень личное, настолько личной, насколько позволяла кибернетическая рука, сжимавшая ваши внутренности и пытающаяся выломать вам поясничные позвонки через брюшную полость.

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Вы здесь » Retrocross » Pick-Ups & Re-Shoots » [AU] Terra Nullius

[AU] Terra Nullius

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[AU] Terra Nullius


Terra Nullius is the place for the forsaken, for the damned and the unwanted, for the pirates of the XLI century and for the wreck they leave behind. In short, Terra Nullius is not the place for those who would like to live to see their grandchildren. This is precisely why the Doctor and Amy end up here, following the SOS signal from a cargo spaceship “Morag Eudann.”

*Terra Nullius

Terra nullius — латинское выражение, пришедшее из римского права, переводится как «ничья земля». Термин используется в международном праве, в случае, если территория не находится под суверенитетом какого-либо государства, или если государство отказалось от прав на данную территорию.

[icon][/icon][nick]The 11th Doctor[/nick][status]GERONIMO![/status][sign][/sign]

Отредактировано Poe Dameron (08.05.2016 18:01:49)



    On the one hand... But then, on the other... Oh well. You never know where you’ll get lucky, do you? The Doctor uses that as the main reasoning behind his decision when he lands the TARDIS aboard a cargo spaceship. Have you ever been to cargo spaceships? They are enormous. Gigantic! Not as big as the TARDIS on the inside, of course. Then again, no ship is as big as the TARDIS on the inside. Nevertheless, you still could get lost in a cargo spaceship and spend years trying to find your way back. Quite tricky, these cargo ships.
    When the TARDIS lands with a soft thud, in the console room the Doctor swirls around, pressing buttons and pulling levers, until he finally stops in front of a screen. Now, there is just one more thing to do. One more thing before they go outside and face whatever adventure the universe prepared for them today. He stares at the message on the screen. It reads, “Captain and all officers dead lying in chartroom and on bridge. Probably whole crew dead.” The Doctor sees, “A gigantic cargo ship worth of adventures. Slightly spooky, possibly dangerous, obviously hostile. We need the Doctor.” Who would have thought?
    “Ame-e-elia Pond,” the Doctor’s voice echoes through the TARDIS. He turns around, swiftly switching off the message on the monitor, and claps his hands together. Once he gets the attention he inquired for, the Doctor lights up with a huge smile, “What do you think of space pirates, Amy? You think they would like my hat? It’s the best one I’ve got.”
    In his defence, it’s not a fez. That would be an improvement, if the Doctor didn’t pick the most atrocious purple tricorn the universe has ever seen. He, of course, did, and now he, of course, points at it with a pride of a five-year-old child. But that’s unimportant, because the adventure awaits, and a moment later the Doctor is already at the door—and outside, on a cargo ship “Morag Eudann.” To be precise, in one of its crew cabins, blissfully empty now—not that it surprises him. Quite the opposite. Briefly looking around and noting a sleek environment containing a bed, a table with a chair and a wardrobe—all things screwed to the walls and unmovable—the Doctor turns back to the TARDIS.
    “You coming?” he asks and without a pause proceeds to the little round window, where he stops dead in his tracks. “Seems like we’re right on time,” he says, and it doesn’t sound good.


Что там за окном, для пущего интереса предлагаю на свой вкус описать вам, мисс %)

[icon][/icon][nick]The 11th Doctor[/nick][status]GERONIMO![/status][sign][/sign]

Отредактировано Poe Dameron (08.05.2016 18:05:07)



Though Amelia Pond liked, hum, Amelia Pond loved adventures, danger and Doctor's style of life sometimes too much, she also loved aspects of normal existence. What a pity — if you choose life in a funny thing called TARDIS, you'd better be prepared for the lack of sleep. And food, maybe. Quiet wonderful moments with an interesting book in the chair. Sleep, again, and food, also again. She learned how to mix them, the doctor-life and the normal-life. For example, she usually slept nearby TARDIS's console, so she would always meet new trip without taking-on-and-off clothes, or missing another dream with Marlon Brando. You can not get enough of beautiful men from 50's, can you?
— I wanted to be a pirate, — Amy tried to do something nice with her purple scarf and find glasses; she looked more serious in her glasses, — well, perhaps I just liked the way "Queen Of Pirates" sounded, — and grog, it was her favourite drink on parties, — but anyway, in school times I played a pirate. Unfortunately for Rory, of course; I was asked to do the Captain Flint's role, and I was enormously worried about the historical authenticity... — but she will tell this pretty story about sausage fencing and muskets' illegal using next time.

— Heya, you mean like... real space pirates? Doctor, are you su... — but he was sure, of course, as usual. And as usual, Amelia followed his back, foolishly bright back; in the end, the girl from the Earth could be muchmore cooler than some abstract space pirates, don't you think?
Amy didn't like, how Doctor said last sentence. The phenomenon "right time" for space and time travellers has always been a bad sign. Very, very bad sign. The ship itslef seemed like an obvious bad sign; emptiness doesn't fit cargo ships. Amy wasn't terrified, she was afraid, and she hated to be afraid with no apparent reason. Actually, she should review her wishes and think about prons and cons of princess's lifes.
The window opened; the Doctor and Amelia Pond could not make a sound.
— They're all dead, Doctor, — whispered Amy, — all dead!
She could not see anything but blood, blood on the walls, blood on the floor, blood on the portholes, and ligh-green screen of the ships' host computer. The image of map was stable; the destination should have been reached in twenty minutes. "Terra Nullius ", the screen said.
— They're all dead, — repeated Amelia Pond. 
[icon][/icon][nick]Amy Pond[/nick][status]gingerbread[/status][sign]I am not a trouble![/sign]



    The Doctor saw many things since he has left Gallifrey for good. He saw the stars go out, and he saw the most enduring things break, and he saw the impossible things become possible. Yet there are some things you can never grow used to. As the Doctor looks outside the small window, he stands aghast at the massacre he could not prevent. Some part of him wants to go back inside the TARDIS and bend the time to his will. Go back and save all the people on this ship.
    Instead he leaves his atrocious, totally inappropriate for this occasion hat on the table next to the window and shifts his eyes to Amy’s face. She’s afraid. Well, of course she is, she didn’t see the message prior seeing this. The Doctor doesn’t feel afraid himself anymore—he never truly does, in fact—he feels determined. Like a hound on a trail. He doesn’t think of it, of himself like the one who has to disperse justice in the vast universe. He does think that every mystery deserves to be solved, though. That’s what he does. He solves things.
    He will solve this one, too.
    “Somebody sent us the SOS signal, so there is somebody, who is still alive and in dire need of rescuing,” says the Doctor, his face collected and serious. He isn’t talking as much to Amy as to himself. “We have to find that person quicker than whoever—whatever did this.”
    The Doctor doesn’t say a word about being careful and not wandering around to Amy, she must have heard such phrases million times before from him. To be honest, he forgets. His mind is at work already, searching for anything and everything that might give him a cue as to what exactly happened here. As far as the Doctor knows, space pirates, however vicious they might be, haven’t favored good ’ole bloodbaths since XVII century, and XVII century was a very long time ago. Who then? Or what?
    The Doctor exits the cabin, all his gestures cautious as if he’s afraid to set off some alarm or trap. However, once he is in the cockpit, he relaxes somewhat. The bodies on the floor don’t seem like they are going to attack anyone from now on. Besides, it’s not them he instantly becomes interested in. It’s the main computer screen. The map. Oh, he loves maps! Although, maybe, not the ones that have Terra Nullius in them. Why, out of all the nice routes across the universe, Morag Eudann crew decided to choose such a dangerous one? The Doctor frowns.
    And what exactly does it transport?
    The list of questions caused by this scene and this entire situation keeps getting longer with every second. The Doctor pulls out the sonic screwdriver and points around the screen. What could be really useful right now, is their captain’s journal. The map on the screen falters for a second, the computer runs a quick search and pulls out the latest journal entry. The Doctor steps back and barely avoids tripping on the captain’s body and falling right into the biggest puddle of blood he has ever seen. Luckily, he steadies himself by gripping the funny-looking smooth white structure. Then he chances a glance at Amy.
    The date at the upper right corner of the recording, playing on the screen now, says it was made on the twentieth of April. Year 4015.
    “Now you’re just being rude,” remarks the Doctor, looking at the captain’s bearded face filling the entire screen. “Sending messages forth to the past. That’s cheating.”
    The captain, however, doesn’t hear him. He goes on and on, describing the state of the ship and that the food is horrible, as usual, and that all is well and they proceed as planned. He seems grumpy and a bit tired, but otherwise in perfect health, both mental and physical. As far as it’s possible to judge looking at the biggest nose in the universe filling one third of the screen, and the bushy beard and the wrinkly forehead filling the rest of it.
    The Doctor lets go of the funny structure he used to prevent himself from falling and steps in closer to the screen, his screwdriver at hand like a sword. While he is busy taking a closer look at the recording and, specifically, its date—“Some sort of malfunction, maybe?” he mumbles to himself—the structure behind him opens up. There appears to be some sort of a spherical robot inside of it. White and seamless, the robot glides through the air right to Amy, emanating low purring noise. Almost like a pet.
[icon][/icon][nick]The 11th Doctor[/nick][status]GERONIMO![/status][sign][/sign]

Отредактировано Poe Dameron (08.05.2016 18:22:44)



What a pity, such a shame — she gets another exclusive fact into the big fat encyclopedia "why Doctor is not God itself". Hard enough for Amy to except and too bad for poor crew, still quite fair for the universe, it was obvious in further diving deep into. At least they could solve the mystery, at least they could find the truth for the relatives and families, and, moreover, they were able to preclude next bloody space-ish waltz on working hours.
Amy needed to find this very aim and hold on. Life is beautiful, and Doctor promised her beautiful planets and fairy tale sunsets in vacuum, but they both have forgotten about human nature. Now is time to remember.

And Doctor, her brave, heroic Doctor is already not in this metal weird round room, not nearby cold hands and red puddles, no, he is in some place which Amy will never ever reach even in her mind.
But Amy doesn't want to play in Doctor, just as Doctor understand that he can not play in God (he tries, oh, he tries so hard, but the bitter reality beats again and again). What Amy is certainly capable of is searching, looking and hearing, avoiding any reasonable safety habits.
That's her duty in the end, the duty of an adventurer.

— Pirates, huh, but nothing is broken or stolen, ship is clear and clean, — murmures Amy, not even taking efforts to cath up for Doctor's speed. — Whoa, what do you mean by back to the futu...
And here it comes, the robot.
Amy surprised more, than she should be — maybe emerald and rubin explosions behind the illuminator are mysterious, but, for the pete's sake, they're in... what he said... 4015! Technologies are different, people not so much, and it reminds of Star Wars movies or nano-sets.
But robot seems childish and sweet. Amy hates children, but this one won't cry. They can become friends.

— What's up, babe? —sings Amy, touching smooth metal construction, — shh, don't be afraid. We won't hurt you.
But robot doesn't believe her, makes high sound and runs. Amy runs too, trying not to die by pulling into doors.

They run along the corridors, jump on stairways and cross completely empty territories, and Amy starts to doubt it's cargo ship. If so, there's the cargo?
In two minutes she understands — robot has lead her to the boxes, containers and bins. Cargo is holded in a room of enormous size, but robot looks for something else. And soon she finds out what, or better say whom.
A girl, same age as her, with golden hair and humanoid face, is lying on the floor. There's blood on her arms and neck, and her pale skin is pinkish. She's humanoid, but not a human being. And she can be a killer.
— Doctor! — Amy, in bright colourful shock, turning around.
She needs the Doctor. Now.

Отредактировано Amelia Pond (23.10.2016 17:49:03)



    Time fascinates the Doctor. People see it as a straight line from the point A to the point B, and they are oh so wrong. Time has never been a line. Even the wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey explanation his Tenth regeneration once gave is not nearly descriptive enough. With time it’s impossible to know everything. Once you think, this is it, the time simply laughs and gives you the new puzzle to ponder about for the rest of your life. The Doctor stands glued to the screen as if by some magic power.
    Time fascinates the Doctor. So does the impossible.
    The message is most certainly stored in the system dated as from the 20th of April. The system is most certainly correct and hasn’t been hacked. Even if it was, the traces are eliminated with surgeon precision, and the Doctor doesn’t know anybody who could’ve done that and fooled him. Well. He does know somebody. But that person is dead, end of story. Either way, it’s the first of April, and the message appears to be from the future. But how?
    The Doctor frowns and turns around, looking at all the bodies in the cockpit. The concept of zombies is the first thing that enters his mind, but these lifeless bodies don’t look even remotely prepared to come back to life and start recording messages in nineteen days’ time. No zombies then. The Doctor thoughtfully fiddles with his screwdriver. Okay. No zombies is good. He doesn’t like zombies. Then what?
    Only when the scream floods the halls of the cargo ship does the Doctor realize that Amy is nowhere in sight. He rushes to the only door he sees, and down the corridor, and down another corridor, and then he turns, and turns again, and opens half a dozen of doors which all seem to be weirdly out of fashion. The scream fades, and there is nothing left to guide the Doctor, but he got the general direction. It is close already. He stops suddenly and turns his head to the left. There is nothing interesting there, just your regular metal wall. Twenty centuries have passed, and people still didn’t come up with anything better than good old metal. But this isn’t what fleetingly interests the Doctor with this particular wall.
    He speeds up his pace again and ends up in some sort of storage hall. All the boxes and containers and bins don’t deserve his attention — the Doctor sees Amy and rushes towards her with his screwdriver at hand.
    “What is it, are you hurt?”
    He quickly scans her, looking all worried and confused, and there is nothing worrisome showing up in the scan so he stops fidgeting and just looks at her. His glance goes to the robot, and then to a body on the floor. He slowly takes in the situation. Amy isn’t hurt, she’s shocked, and a girl whose body is covered in somebody else’s blood is still alive. If it is possible to count her as a being that can be alive. The Doctor steps closer and scans the girl. The results of the scan make him immediately go down next to her and tentatively touch her forehead, as if he was trying to wake her up. Or switch her on.
    The girl abruptly comes back to life, gurgling sigh exits her lips, and her face is as close to imitating fear as is possible. She’s no human, and the Doctor knows that. Formally, she isn’t even alive. The robot next to her goes back to idle as if his sole job was done. The girl’s face goes blank. The Doctor looks at Amy to check in on her, if she’s okay.
    And then he says, “This is Tuviwarai. It’s a race. They are extinct. By this day, the first of April 4015. They weren’t mere twenty days ago, though.”
    Tuviwarai is a very special case, and the Doctor seems worried by Amy’s discovery. Now they not only have the message recorded in nineteen days from now, but they also have a Tuviwaraian, who is most likely in some sort of shock from, apparently, unprotected time-travel. The Doctor stands back up next to Amy. This is getting more and more tangled. How did Tuviwaraian get here? Was she a cause for all this death and blood? The Doctor has a very vague understanding of the Tuviwaraian culture, but he knows for sure that they abide the rules, and any culture in any place in the universe has a rule against killing others.
    “I think she is in shock. Be careful. I am not sure how she got here, but she doesn’t belong to this time, and this means she had to time-travel to get here. It might’ve—” the Doctor has no time to finish.
    The girl gets up and fixes her eyes on Amy. Then she starts talking, or it sounds like talking, but TARDIS doesn’t translate it. It seems like the girl is only imitating speech but not actually speaking. She reaches to Amy with her blood-covered arms, and this is the exact moment when three things happen. The spherical robot changes its color to bright red and howls. The lights switch off, drowning the storage room in pitch-black darkness. The Doctor grabs Amy’s hand and does the only thing he does best in all kinds of weird situations.
    He runs.

Отредактировано The 11th Doctor (30.10.2016 02:06:14)


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