It is why he leaves her as she is.


Because she will arrive in her own time.

Respect, affectation, caring. It is not love.

As he strolls her corridors, he knows that she is his constant companion. The others may be the ones that he rescues, but –

She rescues him. She protects him.

She will not leave him.


The lights are bright, but he does not consider them harsh.

There are no dark places here. His home. Her.

He guides her through the cosmos, deftly, precisely. His fingers input co- ordinates; she considers them, and agrees. There is a furious energy to his movements as they find themselves rematerialising in space/time too near a star.

Super nova.

It is their mistake.

Together they run, the brightness blinding them.

He is gentle as he repairs her systems. She protests softly, a flickering of lights, a murmur of discontent. He listens, but says nothing. She knows his words can –

His words have been broken. He did not mend his ways.

He can mend her.


He is not her master. He cannot control her.

It was difficult to earn her trust.

Not like humans. Too simple. Save their lives once, and they expect you to save the universe. Again. And again.

She has no expectations. She has seen him fail. She understands impossible standards; she performs miracles on a daily basis. They do not always go as expected.

She has seen him blamed. She does not care if it is rightly so.

He speaks to her. Not often, and she finds it...odd, though she would never tell him this. She is in his thoughts, literally: His confidante, but she cannot understand his secrets. Listening to them, she realises that they are important. Occasionally, there are others who try to take them from her. She will not let them.

She doubts that she is indestructible, but she knows that he is not. She knows a great many ways to kill him, perhaps more then anyone else in the universe. The knowledge does not disturb her. She is logical, when she has to be. She has an intellect that can challenge his; his imagination is incomprehensible to her.

This is the life he has chosen for her. She cannot go home.

He calls her 'old girl' with affection, with irony. She is young in the universe. She knows her creators would forget this. They would kill –

Decommission. A machine. She's only alive in a manner of speaking.

It is his manner of speaking.


But it is not enough. She knows this.

He is looking for something.

It is not her.