Kinza [War Doctor/Ailla]

[Ailla]

"Should we say hullo? Maybe they are hiding from the Daleks, like we should be."

Moving at his side, she matched him step for step. “Maybe. And maybe it's a Dalek spy, have you considered that?”

She had belonged to the CIA since birth. It was second nature for her to be suspicious, to second guess and question everything, to formulate a contingency plan for the worst possible scenario. Those responses had been drilled into her all her life, virtually hard-wired into her brain.

“Maybe we're walking straight into a trap.”

He continued walking as before, not sparing an offstep. "It is not one of the Gyn'sabu, is it? Did one escape? That would be far too coincidental," he muttered.

“No.” She shook her head. “From the briefing you gave me on the Gyn'sabu, they are small creatures. This one is larger. Taller than me. Female, I think, judging by the empathic field.”

"Let's see if we can get them to expose themselves a little...there's not that much cover here, so either they are using some type of cloaking device or perception filter...or they are very, very good at hiding. Or if we're particularly unlucky if they're not friendly, both." Even so, he still sounded cautiously curious, alert for any signs now but attempting to keep from projecting his attention.

The Doctor was right. Their covert pursuer was still too far away to attempt direct confrontation. Their only choice was to continue ahead, as if they were unaware of being watched, and hope that the person following them made a mistake.

“If need be, when we reach some more cover, I'll circle around behind her and snap her neck.”

Her voice was unemotional and matter-of-fact; her words those of a soldier, outlining an expedient solution to an inconvenient problem.

[Vansell]

"If need be, when we reach some more cover, I'll circle around behind her and snap her neck."

Until that point, she had presumed herself...not safe - that word may as well have not existed here...but at least not in immediate danger from the two she was pursuing. Only now did she realize - and the thought sent a chill through her - that that had been a terrible misreading of the situation. A mistake that could have cost her her thrall, maybe even her life.

Closing her eyes now, she could see the tidal waves that rippled out through time with every footstep these two took or had taken. One wrong step, and she could find herself swept away. Solitude must have dulled her senses for other lifeforms.

Courses of time spread out before her - the dominant courses, where she remained hidden and pursued these two strange individuals. All of a sudden, those courses no longer seemed so inviting, with the female's threat hanging in the air. It was time to veer onto a new path.

In one smooth movement, she straightened up. Her grey-clad form seemed almost to grow out of the rubble in the blink of an eye, and ash and dust fell from her back and head with a soft, whispering, sifting sound, blurring her outline. Rising to her feet behind a low rise, she raised her hooded head and faced them both with a blank, guarded expression.

[Deleted]

Moving at his side, she matched him step for step. “Maybe. And maybe it's a Dalek spy, have you considered that?”

"Of course I have. Have you considered it's -not- a Dalek spy first, or did you go straight to it's a Dalek spy? Now, if they -are- a Dalek spy, I can't say they're a very good one. Generally, of course, a Dalek will exterminate you first and interrogate you afterwards, so I suppose we cannot expect them to have come very far in clandestine operations."  It was hard to tell if he was being purposefully sarcastic to draw out their pursuer or being diversionary as an ingrained response to overt negativity.

“Maybe we're walking straight into a trap.”

"Indeed; if so we should be thankful as doing so usually saves some time...when walking straight into the trap, it's best to do so with your chin up."

“No.” She shook her head. “From the briefing you gave me on the Gyn'sabu, they are small creatures. This one is larger. Taller than me. Female, I think, judging by the empathic field.”

"Hm...I see."

“If need be, when we reach some more cover, I'll circle around behind her and snap her neck.”

"That would certainly put a damper on the conver--"

In one smooth movement, she straightened up. Her grey-clad form seemed almost to grow out of the rubble in the blink of an eye, and ash and dust fell from her back and head with a soft, whispering, sifting sound, blurring her outline. Rising to her feet behind a low rise, she raised her hooded head and faced them both with a blank, guarded expression.

"Ah, hello. Come to join us, I see. Impressive camouflage but ultimately a wasted endeavor. Let's not waste any more time then, hrm? What is it that you want?" Eyes narrowed in the glare, he tried to get a read on the person - face, body language, anything. For all he knew it was a Dalek, that had never left his mind.

[Ailla]

"Ah, hello. Come to join us, I see. Impressive camouflage but ultimately a wasted endeavor. Let's not waste any more time then, hrm? What is it that you want?"

As the grey-clad form rose out of the dust, Ailla instinctively stepped in front of her father and shifted to a fighting stance, a practiced movement which came as naturally to her as breathing. One foot came forward, her chin tucked down and her hands lifted defensively to chest level, hands curled into fists, ready to strike. She was already on edge on this strange, hostile planet and she didn't like being followed.

The swirling dust obscured her vision and the stranger's voluminous hooded cloak, perfect for camouflage, concealed most of her body. Ailla could sense uncertainty, determination, maybe even a twinge of fear, although of what, she couldn't tell. But there was no panic or confusion. Every movement this woman made was cool and calculated. And that rang warning bells in Ailla's brain, because it was a state of mind that she recognised all too well – that of an experienced soldier.

“Come any closer,” she said in a quiet, deadly voice. “And I'll make you wish you hadn't.”

[Vansell]

She remained completely motionless as the two spoke, not even blinking her slate-grey eyes. Not a trace of movement to show hostility, nothing to show fear.

Inside, she was centred, grounded. The female was moving into the unmistakeably stance of one well-trained in physical combat; outwardly, even her eyes above the canvas bandanna didn't move, although she was taking in the sight, and there was briefly something lifeless glazing them as she drew deeper into her thrall, allowing it to contain her like a shell, rather than a fitted armour.

Finally, after a long pause as she worked out how to move muscles that she hadn't had to use for a long time, she spoke.

"My name is Sarracenia." Her voice was cool and resonant, almost entirely without inflection, and with a distant quality to it as though she were sleep-talking. "I am a Warpsmith of Phaidon. What I want is immaterial."

She meant it quite literally, of course.

[Deleted]

As the grey-clad form rose out of the dust, Ailla instinctively stepped in front of her father and shifted to a fighting stance, a practiced movement which came as naturally to her as breathing...“Come any closer,” she said in a quiet, deadly voice. “And I'll make you wish you hadn't.”

The Renegade was reminded of Leela, only Ailla had not come from a society deemed primitive by the Time Lords. He deftly maneuvered himself right back to the front, one arm out, hands of the palm slightly curled. Despite seeming rather at ease, he was ready for the woman to attack them...or perhaps he was at ease with the fact that most of the time, people did prefer to take that tactic with him, nowadays and so many days before. But the form before him was a -hard- read, blank almost. Perhaps it was an android. "Now, now, let's see who it is. Politeness is the first casualty of any war, isn't it?"

"My name is Sarracenia." Her voice was cool and resonant, almost entirely without inflection, and with a distant quality to it as though she were sleep-talking. "I am a Warpsmith of Phaidon. What I want is immaterial."

His eyes narrowed slightly and then he said to Ailla in an undertone, "If you attack her, you'd only be damaging someone else's body, more's the shame. Their true form is not what you're seeing before you." Then to Sarracenia, he replied, "A Warpsmith? Why are you here? Spy? Lost your way? You're a bit far away from Phaidon," he said, eyeing her. "Why are you following us? What do the Warpsmiths want with the likes of us - if you're so immaterial, then why are you wearing someone else's body, hrm? Come on, out with it..."

[Ailla]

His eyes narrowed slightly and then he said to Ailla in an undertone, "If you attack her, you'd only be damaging someone else's body, more's the shame. Their true form is not what you're seeing before you."

She nodded, but didn't relax. “I know of the Warpsmiths of Phaidon,” she replied, her voice equally low. “The CIA give their trainee agents a thorough briefing on the other time-sensitive species of the universe. I know that she is wearing the body of a thrall.”

Her tone was even, but there was an undercurrent of disgust running beneath it. Slavery of any kind was abhorrent to her. The recall bracelet that hung heavy on her left wrist was a stark reminder of her own lack of freedom to choose. She couldn't help her hot resentment of the creature that wore the body of the woman standing in front of her.

Then to Sarracenia, [the Doctor] replied, "A Warpsmith? Why are you here? Spy? Lost your way? You're a bit far away from Phaidon," he said, eyeing her. "Why are you following us? What do the Warpsmiths want with the likes of us - if you're so immaterial, then why are you wearing someone else's body, hrm? Come on, out with it..."

"Yes, and make it quick,” Ailla added. “We don't have time for this.”

[Vansell]

For the first time, Sarracenia's voice and eyes took on a trace of some emotion - annoyance, as she regarded the two and took in their words.

"We have a common enemy, Time Lords."

Yes, she knew their race now. Who else could pass that arrogant judgement on other races and cultures? It had been a long time since she had heard that contempt of her own people.

"My bondsperson," she began to explain, carefully emphasizing the Warpsmiths' own more modern preferred term, "as with all of our bondspeople, allowed me to wear her form of her own free will."

Her sharp ears had picked up on the male's words in an undertone to the female - "If you attack her, you'd only be damaging someone else's body, more's the shame. Their true form is not what you're seeing before you." She knew they wouldn't hurt her, but still she didn't move a muscle. Even with the limited vision, scenting and hearing of a human body, she knew there were ways to extend her senses further towards them without taking a step forward.

"We were prisoners of the Daleks, contained by an isomorphic field and a time-dam. To escape, she would have required temporal senses, and I a corporeal form. What you see is not slavery, but an alliance."

[Deleted]

For the first time, Sarracenia's voice and eyes took on a trace of some emotion - annoyance, as she regarded the two and took in their words.

"We have a common enemy, Time Lords."

"How convenient," he said, taking a step closer to her in an almost personable way. "Now that you've had some time to watch us and we you, is this the part where you suggest some alliance in order to defeat said common foe? What is it that you wish? It cannot be a lift off of this world..."

Sarracenia:
She nodded, but didn't relax. “I know of the Warpsmiths of Phaidon,” she replied, her voice equally low. “The CIA give their trainee agents a thorough briefing on the other time-sensitive species of the universe. I know that she is wearing the body of a thrall.”

Ailla:
"My bondsperson," she began to explain, carefully emphasizing the Warpsmiths' own more modern preferred term, "as with all of our bondspeople, allowed me to wear her form of her own free will."

"Do they now?" he said, sounding incredulous. "I've heard much the same by too many an oppressor."

"We were prisoners of the Daleks, contained by an isomorphic field and a time-dam. To escape, she would have required temporal senses, and I a corporeal form. What you see is not slavery, but an alliance."

"I see, but -you- escaped. By being together, forging this alliance. The others are still stuck in there with the Daleks. Sarracenia was it? Are you offering to show us the way that you got out, so that we can get in? And I don't suppose you know what they wanted you all for, now do you?"

[Ailla]

"We were prisoners of the Daleks, contained by an isomorphic field and a time-dam. To escape, she would have required temporal senses, and I a corporeal form. What you see is not slavery, but an alliance."

"I see, but -you- escaped. By being together, forging this alliance. The others are still stuck in there with the Daleks. Sarracenia was it? Are you offering to show us the way that you got out, so that we can get in? And I don't suppose you know what they wanted you all for, now do you?"

Ailla watched silently as her father brusquely peppered the woman with questions. Every sense was still alert, her attention as much on the shattered, dusty landscape around them as it was on the Warpsmith, just in case this was a trap. Was this Sarracenia holding them here, distracting their attention, so the Daleks could close in? It was a basic military strategy – one so basic, that Ailla would kick herself for eternity if she allowed them to fall for it.

“An alliance implies that once your association is over, and your common purpose achieved, you may each go your separate ways. Is that how it is, Warpsmith?” She added her own curt, sharp-edged query to the collection posed by the Doctor. “Is the consciousness of your host still alive in there somewhere? Or is there now nothing left except you? In which case, I'd say you got the better end of the bargain, wouldn't you? Despite all the lofty rhetoric you've used to justify yourself.”

[Vansell]

She didn't consider herself a patient Warpsmith. Clearly, though, she was still practically a Star Whale compared to Time Lords.

The two in front of her were fine examples. She could feel irritation slowly mounting as they bombarded her with questions, barely pausing for breath after one before launching into the next. Relentless interrogation. These two were made for war.

"Is the consciousness of your host still alive in there somewhere? Or is there now nothing left except you?"

"My bondsperson sleeps," she replied coolly and calmly, still with barely a note of inflection in her voice. "When her bond expires, she will awake and be free."

She turned to the male.

"Are you offering to show us the way that you got out, so that we can get in? And I don't suppose you know what they wanted you all for, now, do you?"

"I was not aware that you were planning anything so foolish," she said evenly, "so why would I be offering that? All I would seek from you would be transport away from this world. I can make contact with my own kind from the vortex. As to what the Daleks wanted with us...I believe they were conducting research into the attributes of our species. Both of your species are well-matched for tenacity and contempt."

[Deleted]

"I was not aware that you were planning anything so foolish," she said evenly, "so why would I be offering that? All I would seek from you would be transport away from this world. I can make contact with my own kind from the vortex. As to what the Daleks wanted with us...I believe they were conducting research into the attributes of our species. Both of your species are well-matched for tenacity and contempt."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Well in that case, I doubt that you're going to get your transport. So if you'll excuse us, we've got something to do. It seems as if we'll have to save the rest of your people that you've left behind while we're at it!" he huffed. "If we can, at any rate. Pull up a rock, turn your cloaking back on. Perhaps you'll get lucky and someone else that's not a Dalek will pass you by and you can offer them your adept skills at stalking and insults, which will no doubt endear you to them as much as it has to us. Or, help us get on with it and earn yourself a trip back. And perhaps a thank you from your fellow Warpsmiths. Seeing as you have so much contempt for us, however, I doubt you'll take my advice." With that, he glanced at Ailla and started to continue onwards. There was still a way to go and they'd just wasted valuable time.

[Ailla]

Her father turned away and began to walk, his stride determined and self-assured. He was utterly focused on the task at hand, the encounter with the Warpsmith nothing but an unwelcome distraction for him.

Ailla paused just long enough to eye the woman up and down. “The principle of negotiation is simple, Sarracenia. We have something you want, namely a way off this hell-hole of a planet. But you're a stranger to us and we owe you nothing. Therefore, to get what you want, you need to offer us something valuable in exchange... something that we want. Namely, a safe way into the Dalek compound.”

She shrugged, as if the woman's reply made no difference to her, either way. “Your choice.”

And with that, she began to follow in her father's wake, small red puffs of dust marking her passage, as she trudged behind him along the barren ground.

[Vansell]

Sarracenia wasn't at all surprised that the Time Lord was walking away. Impatient, intolerant creature... Back turned, he couldn't see Sarracenia bristling - not that that was easily visible on the thrall's face, even underneath the bandanna and hood.

The female, however, paused.

The killer.

Whatever they were doing here, it was likely they wouldn't want witnesses - moral principles over the source of her body or not. This was Time War.

"The principle of negotiation is simple, Sarracenia. We have something you want, namely a way off this hell-hole of a planet. But you're a stranger to us and we owe you nothing. Therefore, to get what you want, you need to offer us something valuable in exchange... something that we want. Namely, a safe way into the Dalek compound."

She didn't move a muscle while the Time Lady spoke. Even after she had finished, and turned to walk away, Sarracenia remained, like a pillar of stone amidst the dust and scree, considering.

She had been expecting a threat, maybe even death. Instead, she had received a calm, dispassionate clarification of where the three of them stood - and, potentially, a light in the darkness of her own predicament. She had been on this planet for a very long time.

That light would come at a cost, though. Her escape had been hard-won, and now she was to brush against the walls of her cell once again, cross paths with her captors.

By the time the two Time Lords reached the ridge at the top of the crater, and began to move from sight, she had made up her mind. Still moving as smoothly and silently as ever, dropping low to the ground out of habit, and lowering her hood to hide her head, she began to follow them.

[Deleted]

Some time had passed before he turned towards Ailla and huffed, "She's following us, I'm sure of it. I wonder if she thinks that if she sees us perish, she can find my TARDIS and escape with it. Well, good luck with that endeavor. The old girl has some new tricks under her that battered paint job of hers. And she's become very particular," he added.

The top of the crater did not afford them good position to make their way to the camp. "We need camouflage if we're to get closer. Something to fool the Dalek patrols. The land is too flat for too long to make a run for it," he said, considering their options. "If we could take down a glider degredation perhaps we could use that...make it seem like its taking us in..." he mused out loud as they walked.