I’ve had a short break in writing (job interviews and family illness) since writing the posts for The Felon of Kyntar and Counter Intelligence. Below I present a sneak preview of an adventure featuring Peter Davison’s Doctor alongside Nyssa, which would take place somewhere between Time-Flight and Arc of Infinity. I came up with the idea for the story about two years ago, but it has an added poignancy in the vastly more violent and heartbreaking geopolitical climate we live in at the time of writing.
Haven would be the first part of the adventure, imagined to be a 45 minute special, followed by a second 45 minute episode entitled Dawn. The story concept involves the Doctor and Nyssa arriving on the planet Rehkut to a encampment set up by travelllers who have come to Rehkut to flee a war on their home planet. While some of the Nomads are willing to work with the native Rehkutians, and some Rehkutians are willing to welcome the Nomads, there is rising hostility and suspicion between the two, especially after both species experience unexplained acts of violence against them. Meanwhile, the Nomad’s leading physician is eager to seek the Doctor’s help, as an unknown and inexplicable illness seems to be spreading across the Nomads like wildfire.
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Story Preview
The Doctor had met several officials in his time. Overbearing officials; ambitious officials; insecure officials; there were few kinds he hadn’t encountered across the known universe. By far the rarest, but most interesting because of their rarity, were those who projected competence and cool command. The Prefect was very much in this category, and it intrigued the Doctor.
“Let me review the established facts of your case,” he said coolly, opening a dossier and skimming the contents. The Nomads shuffled nervously at this cool and leisurely exercise of control.
“You have declined to name your planet of origin,” the Prefect continued in a matter-of-fact voice. Behind his back, the Prelate sneered disagreeably. “You estimate around 1,000 of your species left your home planet, and at least 85% survived the journey to Rehkut. Your craft was capable of making one journey before requiring substantial refitting and refuelling. Since landing on Rehkut three months ago you have largely disassembled your vehicle, and created the encampment we now stand in.”
“The strangers call it ‘Haven’, sir,” the Prelate added maliciously, “Pleading that they seek sanctuary, rather than bringing their violence with them.”
Nyssa noticed Thora’s eyes narrow, and her knuckles whiten. Her sister placed a warning hand on her arm, silently cautioning her not to be goaded into response.
The Prefect gave his subordinate a disdainful look.
“Your unverified impressions are of no interest to my report, Prelate,” he said sharply, “I am only interested in facts.”
The Prelate bridled at this treatment, visibly trembling with suppressed rage.
“Does your report contain all the facts, Prefect?” he hissed, “Does it document the diseases these people have brought? The strange violence meted out against our people? Does it …”
The Prelate’s tirade was brought to a sudden halt as his eye fell upon the Doctor and Nyssa. He had barely noticed them among the crowd of Nomads when he first entered, but now he stared piercingly at the Doctor.
“Who is this?” he asked coldly, addressing his question to Corben, “He does not resemble your kind.”
Smiling disarmingly, the Doctor replied “We have only just arrived. I am the Doctor, and this is Nyssa.”
The Prelate’s lip curled derisively.
“Impossible,” he retorted curtly, “We track every vessel that arrives on Rehkut. No other vessel has arrived since these Nomads.”
The Doctor sighed heavily. The one downside to a ship able to travel trans-dimensionally was having to explain exactly these sorts of anomalies to people often unable to comprehend the concept of trans-dimensional travel. It was because people rarely understood that rarely attempted to explain, and why he now replied, “I don’t doubt that’s what your instruments have told you.”
Glaring with a mixture of suspicion and excited interest, the Prelate snapped “So you admit it! You did arrive with these Nomads?”
A gentle cough from the Prefect forestalled the Doctor’s immediate reply. The Doctor was once again struck by the quiet air of command the Prefect carried. He was an older man than the Prelate, his skin pale purple just as the Prelate’s was, but traces of white mixed with his blue hair suggested an older, or perhaps more stressful life.
“Whatever new information this stranger may have to bring, we will receive it in due course,” he said smoothly. “You can be assured, Prelate, that no fact we possess has been left outside my report. The Presidium is well aware of the unexplained acts of violence close to this encampment.”
“And what of the explicable acts?” Ryden interjected loudly. The Prefect stared at him in some surprise. Ryden was at least a foot shorter than him, very slight in build and not at all prepossessing. And yet his posture was like a man twice his height, defiant and aggressive.
“Explicable acts?” repeated the Prefect with polite confusion.
“The attacks on our people by the Rehkutians!” Ryden protested, “Any who have dared leave this encampment have been savagely assaulted by your kind!”
The Prefect opened his mouth to reply, but the Prelate got there first.
“Vile lies! Insinuations! Fabrications!” As he spat out each word, he paced about, getting offensively close to Ryden, “A sham to cover up their own violence! Their own lack of cohesion, discipline, and order!”
The Prelate’s face darkened as he got angrier. In contrast, Ryden grew paler as he wrathfully replied “My brother? A sham? When every other member of our party was accounted for when he was attacked?”
The Prefect had finally lost patience. He brought down his walking stick on a nearby table with a short staccato snap, bringing the room instantly to his attention. The Prelate and Ryden continued to stare at each other, eyes filled with hatred, each breathing quickly.
“I repeat,” he said coldly, “No facts have escaped my report. Even the ones you have mentioned. But it is clear that they raise unanswered questions. They required further facts to be submitted.”
The Prefect turned his attention primarily to Corben. The old, weary Nomad returned his gaze stoically. “The Rehkutian government have ordered myself and my colleague to conduct a thorough investigation of your settlement, and to seek answers to these questions. Until they are answered satisfactorily, we cannot permit you permanent asylum on our planet.”
Corben nodded gravely in understanding, and spoke above the outraged reactions of his party.
“We understand we are nomads here, and reliant upon your hospitality and generosity until we can make our own home. You may conduct your investigation.”
Dan Talks Doctor Who 