Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Martha Jones
Summary: The Doctor and Martha find themselves caught up in an old age battle, but when The Doctor is considered to be spoken of in ancient 'prophecy' of Maralus, Martha finds herself alone and lost on an alien planet, while the Doctor faces his greatest fears and deepest regrets. Can Martha figure out what the Prophecy really means and will she save the people of Maralus from an ancient evil?
Meaning of Oblivion:
- the state of being unaware of what is happening around one
- the state of being forgotten
- destruction or extinction
"Morning," Martha Jones said as she walked into the kitchen, finding the Doctor sitting at the table reading. "Is it good?"
"Oh yes, it is," the Doctor responded, as his intense brown eyes consumed another page of text and he used his nimble fingers to flip the page over. His brown hair stuck up in all directions and Martha suppressed a giggle – he looked quite cute like that.
She stood on tip-toe to reach the cupboards and pulled out a plate, filled it with Shreddies, poured milk over the top, rummaged around in the draws for a spoon, found one and then sat herself down in front of the Doctor, staring at him intently.
He was leaning back in his chair, his legs crossed over one another, his brown eyes still giving the book an intense gaze however she could see the intelligence resting within. He flipped another page, and then another. She had seen him speed-read before – just by flicking through a book he could pick up intricate details – however he seemed to be draining this book far more slowly.
He finally noticed her gaze and looked up, his face showing surprise: "What?"
"You," she pointed the spoon at him.
"Yes…" he trailed off, apparently confused.
"I've never seen you read so slowly before," she answered. "You've usually sat down and finished a book within five minutes – or to put it bluntly – thirty seconds. Why is it so different now?"
The Doctor shrugged. "I can enjoy a book without reading fast. But now," he stood up, laying the book down on the table, putting his glasses back in his pockets, "you've distracted me so we'd better think about where we're going to go next!" He already had that look in his eye that showed he was ready for the next big adventure. He began to run out of the kitchen, but Martha called after him.
"Hang on! I haven't even finished my breakfast yet!" She looked down at the soggy Shreddies, shoved a few more spoonfuls into her mouth and then ran from the kitchen, through the corridors of the TARDIS till she stopped outside the Control Room. Taking a deep breath she stepped inside, determined not to allure the Doctor to the fact that she felt a little puffed out.
The Doctor was already jumping round the console, his fingers moving quickly over the controls – his fingers jabbing buttons and flicking switches – he glanced up at Martha and gave her a wide smile that showed his enthusiasm for his adventurous life.
"So Martha Jones!" the Doctor bounded across the console room and stopped right in front of her, crossing his arms. "Where would you like to go?"
"Somewhere nice?" she replied, grinning. "Peaceful. Where we don't have to run for our lives?"
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "We haven't run for our lives in ages!"
Martha sniggered. "For a Time Lord you don't have a very good memory."
"Oi! I resent that! And, for the record, I do have a very good memory," the Doctor replied, pointing a finger at her.
Martha raised her eyebrows. "Yesterday on Narvidia," she replied, "we were running for our lives because you had the gall to annoy the Prince of Carvika and he wanted your head? Remember?"
The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Feels like a month ago to me."
"And you call yourself a Lord of Time!" laughed Martha.
"I'm not 'a' Lord of Time, I'm the Lord of Time. It's singular rather then plural Miss Jones," the Doctor responded.
Martha leaned towards the Doctor, jabbing him in the chest with her middle finger and asked, "So where are you taking me then?"
"To a planet where it is a paradise all on its own without the aid of human intervention, even though humans do reside there. Maralus, is the name and I've been there before, a couple of life-times ago, one of the last places I went to before the Time War ended…it was a planet that was unaffected by the war – but I had to see it…just to see what it was like to be at peace again," the Doctor smiled, a dream-look in his intense brown eyes. "You'll like it Martha, very much."
"Has it got beaches then? What about a lovely blue sea?"
The Doctor shook his head. "It's not that type of paradise," he winked at her. "You'll see when we get there."
She could see he meant it this time; meant to take her to a place where they wouldn't have to run or hide, or have to save a civilisation from destruction either…just a peaceful place to relax and enjoy oneself.
"You'd better put on the proper attire," he commented as he continued to pull levers.
"Such as…?" she inquired.
"Flared trousers….a short skirt…a t-shirt…you know, girl's stuff," he was blushing, talking about something he didn't have any knowledge of.
Martha shrugged her shoulders, shaking her head. Leaving the Doctor alone to play with his toy she ascended the stairs to where the wardrobe room was located.
In the end Martha chose to wear jeans that were cropped at the knee with a light purple top which had no sleeves. One small change she did make (other then her clothing) was to let her hair down - she figured it was time to make herself feel at home within the TARDIS. Besides, having her hair down helped her relax, especially when she knew that the Doctor planned to take her to a nice planet where running wouldn't be a necessity.
"I'm ready," she informed the Doctor as she arrived back in the control room.
The Doctor took one glance at her, eyebrows raised. "Sure?"
"Yeah," she nodded enthusiastically.
He indicated the door with his right hand, "It's all yours," but his impatient side got the better of him as he bounded across the room before Martha had taken two steps.
"Someone's eager," chuckled Martha, holding a hand to her face to suppress her giggles.
The Doctor rolled his eyes. "If you don't show enthusiasm…"
"I was," she pointed out, "but you thought I was moving to slow for you."
He shifted on his feet looking quite guilty however he perked up with his reply. "You'll see why I'm so happy to be here again. Maralus is a marvellous, beautiful planet with unique traditions…a simple way of life….,"his eyes were sparkling as he spoke the final words, "…and the home of another type of human!"
"You mean to say there are different humans in the universe?" Martha coaxed her head.
The Doctor's head went from side to side as he considered his next words. "Well, you Earth lot are type one – the fundamental human shape and lifespan – the Maralus humans evolved after you, but with two basic differences!"
"And what are they?" prompted Martha.
The Doctor twirled on his feet – he was struggling to keep in his pent-up-energy. "They can live longer – by about fifty years – and they also have three fingers and one thumb, so slight difference, but they are basically type two human."
"Impressive….so if they can live longer then me that would make their general lifespan to be about one-hundred and twenty five years old, give or take a few years?"
"Precisely Dr. Jones!" he grinned, twirled again and headed to the door. "Come on then!"
With that he bounded out of the TARDIS and into the unknown with Martha Jones following him.
Deep in the mountains that sat upon the borders of the countries of Marid and Myrad, Sister Aziel strolled through the darkness of the passages that her forefathers had carved. Upon the walls were carvings of ancient history – the beginning of the long war that had plagued her planet. This was the true story of how war had evolved, but none of the natives, save for her and her brother, Arrein, knew the truth behind the outbreak of war.
It was part of her destiny to ensure that war continued.
"Brother Arrein," Sister Aziel called into the darkness of the cave.
A flicker of orange light appeared from around a corner held by a man with long black hair and startling purple eyes. His three-fingered hand held onto the torch that burned the cave with light.
"Sister," his voice was soft. "What is it?"
"Word from the Shaman: they are coming."
"Ah," Arrein nodded. "How will we know who 'they' are?"
"We will know – brave deeds are always rewarded with injury," smiled Aziel. "We will defeat the prophecy by taking the one who 'conquers all' – nothing will stop us."
To be continued…
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