Well I'm back folks! It took slightly longer than planned but here I am.
I can't believe this is it...this is the last chapter. Well as far as my muse runs at any rate. It's been a long old haul but we made it!
Thanks for my continued support not-for-lack-of-trying, FireSenshi2, ironyheartsap, Innogen, Dur'id the Druid, Huitt1989, Darklight, Polaron, Marcus S. Lazarus, meglar, RedZ, dead zed, Nedy Rahn and long live Warhammer 40k!
You've all been absolute stars and really made this fun!
Now all that's out the way, hope you enjoy the ending. I tried to make it fitting for what I believed would really happen!
Enjoy and review!
Chapter Eighteen: Journey's End
They became a blur as they sprinted up to the control deck of the battle ship where, similar to the young TARDIS, alarms were sounding left right and centre. There was a din of shouting as people and machines ran back and forth. Adama and Tigh were frantically hailing Galactica to set her on a battle footing. Meanwhile the Architect literally threw himself at the controls before anyone could stop him.
"What are you doing?" called a Nine as the boy desperately began to sort through the wires.
"We've got to match their subwave frequency with one of our own, resonate it and cancel it," the Architect said brusquely without looking up. The Doctor moved to join him, putting on his glasses swiftly. In unison they began to work, without words or gestures.
"Why are you doing that?" Roslin asked as Baltar moved to help them.
"We have to cancel out their signal," Baltar told her, "or they'll take over this ship like they've got the rest of the fleet."
"Colonial fleet has jumped away," confirmed Thrace from where she was radioing Galactica.
"Whereabouts are they?" Tigh asked.
"We don't have them on radar yet but we will within ten minutes, by then it'll be too late if we don't have the subwave operational," the Doctor said frantically as he tore through wires with his screwdriver.
"I thought you said he'd planned for this?" asked Tigh pointing to the Architect.
"I hoped he did," the Doctor corrected him.
"I did," confirmed the Architect, "but I need to get this up first. I never thought you would've released them. I didn't think the cylons were that stupid and I thought I'd have more time!" He was literally shouting at the end of it.
"We have six ships on radar," called a nearby cylon.
"Damn," growled the Doctor. "Feeding power to signal!"
"Accelerating and broadcasting," replied the Architect pushing a small button on the panel. The whole ship rocked slightly. "Relaying to outer ships."
"Outer ships receiving and emitting," confirmed another cylon.
"Galactica reports signal received," Thrace acknowledged. "Sending to colonial fleet to confirm and also emitting. We're green!"
"Well that's one mountain," the Architect sighed. "Let's have a look shall we? Put them on the visuals."
At his command a picture came up that instantly deadened the hearts of anyone who observed. Six cylon battle ships with full fleets of raiders approaching in battle formation set to destroy them. "By the gods," gasped Roslin. "This is the end."
"Naaah," the Doctor drawled with a grin. "Don't be defeatist! We're evenly matched and we only need to buy time. The only ones we're aiming for are the Daleks and ideally we need to get on the main control ship. It's that one," he jabbed a finger at the centre star.
"How can you be so sure?" a Brother asked.
"Easily, it's the most protected one and the Daleks believe themselves supreme. They'll sacrifice their pawns before they go anywhere. Waste not, want not after all," he replied putting the sonic screwdriver in his inside breast pocket.
"We just need time to activate defences is all," the Architect agreed.
"What defences do we have?" Adama asked quietly.
"I'm called the Architect, Admiral. Why do you think that is?" the boy said as he began fiddling with buttons on the control panel.
He looked over when the admiral hadn't said anything. "No guesses at all?"
"It's because he builds things," the Doctor mumbled through his sonic screwdriver. "We choose our title based on what we want to do. He wanted to build things. Create life."
"And I did," the Architect agreed.
The Doctor snorted, "You copied another race. The cytronians."
"Maybe a bit but that was only Claptrap and when I built him I'd only just entered the Academy. My newer models are a lot better. They just need a power boost is all," he almost fell over as he tried to multitask. "We need to latch them to the main power grid."
"Oh is that what you're doing?" the Doctor asked curiously.
"You didn't even know what he was doing?" The nearby watchers were incredulous.
"Well, I don't know everything. The day I do I might as well stop!" the Doctor laughed.
"They're firing a barrage!" someone called out just as the entire ship lurched.
"Raiders incoming," bellowed someone else.
"Reciprocate and prepare nuclear weaponry," someone commanded.
It was pandemonium as people jostled and the sound of fire crackled over the radio. "They won't hit us," the Doctor said, still hurrying.
"Why do you say that?" asked Tigh who was holding on for dear life.
"Because they have as much need for a genetic recombinator as we do. If anything they'll try and take the ship!"
"And we'll be ready," the Architect said grimly as he connected to cables. "Powering up defences!"
"They're engaging a transmat," a bored voice said from behind them and they turned to look at the Master. He'd been oddly quiet.
"What's a transmat?" asked a cylon through the sound of shouting.
"It's a type of teleport," the Doctor replied, "Where's it going?"
"Central chamber," the Master replied. "They're heading for the brain of this place. Tactical and efficient."
"We've got to get down there," the Doctor said. "Can you hold the bridge? Keep them at bay?" he asked those present.
"Consider it done," growled Adama.
"You'll have to work together," the Doctor reminded them.
"I said 'consider it done'. Now go, Doctor." Adama turned his back on them as he prepared to coordinate. The Doctor grinned as he took off at a sprint. He was not letting to civilisations die here, two that had only just started to mend their ways. He was sick of it all. He flew down the hallways hectically, the Master and Architect close behind him.
The flew into the room and immediately began dismantling computers, examining them. Anything to create a weapon. They didn't have the technology for a Time Lock and the guns present wouldn't even touch a Dalek's polycarbite casing. As they took the computers apart they did so with the single minded intent that the Daleks should never get a hold of it. Time Lord science would not resurrect their race. Not again.
"Transmat engaged," the Master warned and there was a sudden buzzing.
There were three flashes of golden light and suddenly the three Time Lords stood opposite the last three Daleks in the universe. For a second no one moved. "Alert! Alert! You are identified as the fugitive!" one shrieked as they spotted the Architect.
"Yeah, about that-"
"You will be exterminated!" it screamed.
"Hold up! Just a second! Think about what you're doing!" the Doctor shouted and the attention of the Daleks swivelled to him. Their eyestalks twitched and focused, scanning him.
"Alert! You are the Doc-Tor!" one spoke, sliding back away from him.
"That's me," he grinned. "But before you exterminate me, and I'm sure you will, consider this. You've lost, what's the point of killing me now? You have no reason to." He put his hands in his pockets and strode forward. The Daleks backed away from him.
"We must rejoin the war! You are an enemy of the Daleks. You will be exterminated!"
"That's just it! Don't you get it? The war is over. You lost and we lost. There is no Skaro. There is no Gallifrey. You are the last of your kind. If you had any ounce of sense you would be pleading to survive," the Doctor groaned rubbing the bridge of his nose.
There was a moment of silence. "The Daleks are gone?" one asked after a while.
"Yes, long gone." There was only sadness in his eyes.
"Then we will prove out supremacy by using the Time Lord DNA recombinator to restore our race. Daleks are supreme!" The foremost Dalek concluded. "Secure the device!" The other two Daleks glided forward.
The Master got in the way, he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "You will step away from the controls," the Dalek he faced commanded.
"No." The word was final, defiant and bold. The Doctor goggled, he'd never seen the Master be so obstinate.
"You will move!"
"Then you will be exterminated!" The gun came up in slow motion as the laser fired.
"No!" the Doctor bellowed running to catch him. He wasn't dead, not yet. Daleks are at heart a cruel race, they prefer to kill slowly by burning the nervous system. The Master swallowed in pain. "Come on, regenerate," the Doctor growled.
"Look, déjà vu," the Master gurgled, laughing. "I think we've done this before."
"Regenerate, you idiot," the Doctor whispered, holding him gently.
"You know what comes next," the Master choked. "You managed to force a regeneration before but I doubt you can now. You don't have the power. Death is better than an eternity with you." He swallowed again and a mad grin crossed his face, "I can hear the Drums. Can't you, Doctor?" He gripped the Doctor's arm tighter and then he was gone.
"Why did he do that?" the Architect asked sadly.
"He wanted to die but he could never kill himself," the Doctor replied. "Death was better than living with me I guess, he always said that." The Doctor felt tears for, evil as this man was, he was still his friend. Or had been once.
The silence was cut by a strange ding, like a chime being struck extra hard. "What was that?" a Dalek screeched, its dome swivelling to face the Architect.
The Architect pulled a remote out of his pocket and examined it. "Power's ready," he told them brightly and pushed the central big red button.
For a second nothing happened. Nothing moved. Then there was a loud clunk as sections of the wall seemed to disconnect. Three blocks that had seemingly held no importance that, now the Doctor thought on it, must have had perception filters on. They thudded to the ground as the walls ejected them.
There was a high pitch whine emitted from them and suddenly invisible panels began to move on hidden rollers. They slid back as hidden machinery rearranged itself around organic nerves. Shapes formed and suddenly they weren't blocks. They were animals, like Claptrap but much, much bigger. They stood the size of Earth big cats. They weren't as friendly as Claptrap either for they were covered in blades. One opened its mouth and roared, showing ferocious fangs. Well that and what appeared to be a laser.
"What are they?" the Doctor asked in shock.
"My babies of course. Built them myself, improved versions of Claptrap's design. Carnage, Ravage and Tim!" the Architect replied.
"You called one 'Tim'?"
"It seemed a good idea at the time!"
The Doctor rolled his eyes.
"Enemy sighted" the nearest Dalek cried as the smallest one of them, Tim, bounded forwards fluidly. It agilely leapt over the Dalek's laser blast and injected a substance into the dome from a needle placed at the end its long and flexible tail. It perched on the top of the Dalek a moment longer before darting towards the others. The Dalek screamed as the bronze dome began to turn black and rot at a shocking pace. "Casing impaired! Casing impaired! Molecular dissolution virus detected!" The one next to it made smiliar sounds as it fell to the same fate.
The last two creatures, the bigger ones, leapt forward in unison. There was a terrible screech of metal as erdicantium claws and teeth ripped through weakened polycarbite casing. Each opened their mouths and a whir proceeded the firing of a bright red cutting laser into the Dalek shell. It scooped the creatures out, dicing them into pieces across the floor of the antechamber. The death was quick and merciful. The Daleks, if there had been more of them, would have dealt with these creatures easily. But the even numbers and the speed of the creations meant that the dispatch was swift. The last Daleks in the universe guttered and died.
"Kind of disappointing," the Architect remarked in the silence that followed. "Our whole world was destroyed by this," he gestured to the Daleks that were now smudges on the metal floor. "It's sad. All that intelligence gone. They could have been great."
"That's how the universe will die, how all great things will die. Not with a fanfare, not with glory but with a small, pathetic whimper," the Doctor muttered in reply, disgust in his voice.
Though they should have been happy, the sounds of victory from the bridge dictated so, the Architect and the Doctor couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sadness. Too many had died that day. They looked to the ground at the broken form of the mad Time Lord and they wept for their fallen brother.
"What will you do?" Baltar asked the Doctor much later. Carnage, Ravage, Tim and Claptrap milled around him, utterly docile. They were quite tame once the Architect removed the spikes. Well, that can be said of most things.
"Same old life I suppose, travelling here to there," he said non-committally from where he was gathering some pieces together for the Architect. Helping him get ready to move to the Battlestar.
"I'm sorry about your friend, the Master," Baltar continued.
"It was what he wanted. At least we have his DNA, suppose that's something at least," the Doctor replied. There was a silence.
"I thought you were going to resurrect your species?" Baltar said after a moment, moving to help him.
"This is the primary cylon way of reproducing. Thinking on it, even if I was the one who built it, it would be wrong to take if from them," the Architect replied as he carried a box into the room. He dumped it on the floor.
"Can't you build another resurrection ship?" this question came from a Six that had also wandered in to help.
"It isn't that simple, we don't have the parts. Always down to the stupid parts," the Doctor sighed, "even if we have the DNA."
The humans and cylons present looked at each other, "you have done us a great favour," Adama said finally. "All of us."
"It has been decided that the time of our resurrection must come to an end," an Eight continued. "To better understand humans we must become as mortal as they are. Even in the texts of the One God it is decreed that no creature should live forever. Mortality lends us morality."
The Doctor smiled, if only he could've taught the Cybermen that gem of knowledge. He moved to speak but Roslin held up a hand to silence him. "You once told me I couldn't know the whole universe and all its diversities of life, Doctor. And I'll admit I don't. That scares me and it scares me to death but at the same time it's wonderful. You are wonderful."
"It's as the Lost Angel said," continued a Seven. "You are like Fire and Ice and Rage. You are the Night and the Storm at the heart of the Sun. And yet you are wonderful for it."
"You, who are so different, have showed us the wisdom of the gods. In light of this it has been decided that you and your kind should take this ship and rebuild that wisdom. Rebuild it so that youmay hand it down to man after man, child after child for generations to come across the stars." Roslin smiled gently, "I am dying, Doctor. Cancer diagnosed back when Caprica was still whole. But I find I no longer fear it. It is not the end of times. The universe is so much bigger. The end is so much farther."
He stared at them. This was not what he had expected. He looked to the Architect. He hadn't expected it either. "You know," he said at last, "I'm very good at talking and for the first time I don't know what to say." He ran a hand through his hair.
"Just say thanks," a voice laughed behind him and he turned to see Kara Thrace.
He grinned widely, "thank you. Thank you all," he beamed.
"No, Doctor," Lee Adama disagree stepping forward, "thank you."
The Doctor looked at them for a long moment before suddenly shouting 'oh!' and pulling a mobile phone out of his pocket. "Very important number, gotta get it right," he muttered as he dialled and set it to speaker phone.
There was a moment as they waited for it to connect. "Dominos pizza, may I take your order?" a bored voice said.
"Oops," the Doctor hung up and redialled, waiting again.
"This is Captain Jack Harkness," a strongly accented voice answered after a few seconds when the call connected.
"Jack, it's the Doctor," he said brightly.
"Doctor! How've you been? Where've you been?" the American replied happily.
"This isn't a social call, Jack, and I'd really appreciate it if you didn't flirt with me," the Doctor said uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. In the background Thrace chuckled. "I need a favour."
"That means you get to owe me for something, I'm all for it. What do you need?"
"As long as it isn't dancing I'm sure I'll live. Earth's got some visitors coming," this caused every head in the room to look up.
"Oh? Alien?" the voice didn't sound bothered at all.
"No, human. They're coming home," the Doctor smiled at them.
"Seriously? Where've they been?" Jack asked incredulously.
"You remember the Cataclysm in three thousand BC?" the Doctor responded with a question.
"Yeah? The one we don't know about yet but still?"
"These are the colonists, they coming home."
"Wow. It's about time," the voice had become welcoming and warm. "Hey there," it called out suddenly. "If I know the Doctor like I do I bet he's put this on speaker phone."
"Hi," Roslin said back uncertainly. "I'm Laura Roslin, President of the Colonial Fleet."
"Nice to meet you, ma'am," he responded warmly.
"That's enough of that," the Doctor said warningly. "And don't salute!"
"Can't I say hello to anyone anymore?"
"Tough crowd. Anyone else coming too?"
The Doctor looked at the cylons who were shifting nervously, he smiled widely. "Yes, whole new species but as much right to live there as any."
"Right, I'm on it. How long do we have?" They were surprised at how accepting he was.
"A year, no more," the Doctor replied and, for the first time in a very long time, the colonials felt hope.
"I'll make sure they have a welcoming party. There a lot of them?"
"About a hundred thousand," the Doctor replied easily.
"Consider it done, old friend. Now about that dance-"
"Thank you, Jack. I'll take my leave," the Doctor moved to hang up.
"Wait!" The Doctor paused. "Don't forget, Doctor, you have family here. We do miss you, you know. Come see us some time."
"I will do," the Doctor laughed. "I just have some things to take care of first. Goodbye, Jack."
"Later," the other responded as he hung up.
"You didn't have to do that," Adama said after a moment of silence.
"Yes I did, they're as paranoid as you. Not as advanced though. You'll have to be patient with them," he laughed and put the phone in his pocket.
"You said something about a 'cataclysm', you know how the colonies were founded?" asked a nearby soldier.
"Oh yes," the Doctor replied grandly.
"You going to tell us?"
"Naah, that would be telling." And it was like that that the most remarkable being they'd ever met walked out of their lives. He gave them unity and hope. He gave them peace. A year later the human-cylon alliance did indeed reach Earth. The first to greet them was a handsome dark haired man in a long grey coat, he a strong accent and warm smile. Jack Harkness was there as promised. It was only then that the true First Great and Bountiful Human Empire began, with cylon help, in 2015.
As for the Time Lords they walked across the stars, ships in tow, searching for a home. Some say that, at the centre of Orion's Belt orbiting the star Betleguese, they found a planet with an orange sky and red grass. They say it had moutains capped with snow and copper trees - well they couldn't have everything. Some even say that it was there that they made their home, that once again the Time Lords began to stand tall, if after a few tentative steps. TARDISes grew in the valleys once more and laughter flowed on the air. The song of the Time Lords resonated across the universe for all to hear. Well all that could hear.
But honestly, the Earth wasn't to know any of that. Not yet. The Doctor would continue to wander and they would continue to see him in passing. For both the human-cylon colonists and the people of Earth the emergence of New Gallifrey hadn't even happened yet. It was still all in the making.
Or at least that's what a man in a blue box told them as he sauntered off into the night with a spring his step and grin on his face.
That's it. That's all she wrote. How did you like it? Do you like how I would've changed BSG2003's ending from the mashcrap they fed us? Sorry, not that I hated it you understand.
I feel...I don't know...incomplete. A bit of my life is finished. Sigh. Just in time to return to uni I guess...
BUT THIS ISN'T ALL!
I've begun my new fic set, a series of one shots based around the Doctor. I was sick of all those Rose and Doctor fics where Rose has to be a single parent and raise the Doctor's son. 'Enough' I thought to myself! What if situations were reversed? How would the Doctor cope?
Basically there are 12 oneshots I've written in total (don't ask where they've come from) set as sects of the Doctor and his son's lives. Read them as see what you think!
Now that shameless plugging is over please read and review, tell me what you think!
So long (for now) and thanks for all the fish!