Fic: A Minor Point of Departure
Title: A Minor Point of Departure
Characters: Martha Jones, Rose Tyler
Rating: G
Summary: "Captain Rose, of the starship Mickey Smith, at your service."
Written for the Rose Tyler & Martha Jones Ficathon.
A Minor Point of Departure
"Captain Rose, of the starship Mickey Smith, at your service."
Martha opened her mouth, then closed it again. When she'd booked passage on the only freighter that had any intentions of heading out the star system in the next four months, she'd been expecting the usual sort of not-too-savoury smugglers and the probable need to make heavy usage of the blaster in her backpack and the locked currency accounts she'd set-up so, if someone wanted to rob her, they'd be out of luck without the password.
"Right," she said. "Sorry, but it's not Rose Tyler is it?"
The Captain frowned, not looking exactly threatening, but definitely suspicious. "And if it was?"
"Well, then aren't you supposed to be trapped in a parallel universe with no hope of ever returning, like, ever?"
"Oh," said Rose. "That." She bit her lip, and her eyes moved behind Martha. "Y'know, I'd love to explain, but right now I think you'd better get onboard, as we appear to have company."
"Company?" A bolt of super-heated plasma shot over her shoulder as Rose grabbed her arm and pulled her into the ship. "Oh, right. Company."
Martha shrank down inside the airlock, her eyes half-closed as she watched Rose return fire from a blaster that had suddenly appeared in her hands. She appeared completely unfazed by the attack, giving Martha the impression that this wasn't the first time she'd been involved in an incident of this nature.
Maybe I am stuck with not-too-savoury space pirates after all, she thought.
+
Rose wasn't a space pirate. Nor was she unsavoury. In actuality, it was the very fact that she was so disinclined to be convinced by bribes, threats or any other currency of the spacing underworld that got her in so much trouble. Her little crew, however, from Isshtam, her staid and reserved first officer (and a Draconian of the second noble rank who seemed to have done quite a lot of things his father severely disapproved off, not least of all, running of with a young human captain and making trade runs through contested star systems) to Alice Syam, the engineer's assistant who couldn't possibly be older than twelve years, adored her.
When Martha first saw Alice, she raised her eyebrows. Rose shook her head. "Trust me," she said, "better of here than where she was."
The promised answers came when they'd managed a jump out of the system and were on course to Alpha Centauri and the heart of the Earth Empire. "I rather like this," Rose told her as she joined her in the mess hall, "a nice safe run, for once. Plenty of time for talking."
"Talking?" enquired Martha, hoping she didn't sound as worried as she felt.
"Sure," she said. "Come on, how is he? The Doctor?"
"Fine," said Martha. "Just fine...last I saw him." It took her two sips of the bitter coffee on offer before she launched into a rant of how, exactly, she'd ended up on Rose's ship and what, exactly, the Doctor could do with his brilliant suggestions of how she could help out if time, space and the universe in general was ever in danger of imminent destruction again.
Rose laughed, not mockery but understanding. "But he's going to be meeting you, right? On Alpha Centauri?"
"I bloody well hope so," Martha told her. "Or I'll be hunting him down and...well, I'll do something very unpleasant to him." She gave a side-long glance at Rose, almost afraid to ask. "You'll want to see him, yeah? Catch-up and all that?"
"Nah. I'm a bit busy. Got another contract on as soon as we drop you off."
Martha couldn't hide her surprise. "I kind of got the impression that..." She tailed off, not knowing exactly what she should say, or even what she could say.
"I said goodbye a long time ago," Rose told her. "Besides, I've already made a lot of mistakes...and too many of them come down to the Doctor. I'm doing alright. Got my ship, got my crew. Not a bad life."
"No," agreed Martha, "no it's not." Rose smiled, and Martha smiled back.
+
There was a distinctly dodgy looking bar packed with a dozen different species on the space station orbiting the gas giant. Naturally, Rose dragged Martha into it while her ship was being refuelled. "Got to show you the sights," she insisted. "And this is definitely the sort of place the Doctor would never bother to take you."
Rose ordered, and paid for, the drinks. They were blue and fizzy and tasted of mint. By the fifth round Martha had noticed that the room had become very distinctly fluid, and Rose told her exactly how she had got back into her own universe.
"They were green," she said. "Just like aliens on the telly. All green. And furry. And they were travelling in this thing they called a dimension-hopper and they kept popping up all over the place and every time they did there was an earthquake or a tidal wave or something. When we finally caught them, they were terrified. Turns out they didn't have a clue about the thing, they'd nicked it off someone visiting their universe. Anyway, six months later, we think we've figured it out and I volunteered to take them home. Pretty dangerous stuff and everyone knew it. So I said goodbye, lots of tears and wailing and, oh god, you should have heard my mum. But I got them back okay." She paused, downed the rest of he drink and waved for another round. She looked back at Martha, and said, "Just...I made a mistake on the jump back."
"A proper mistake?" asked Martha, not quite drunk enough to miss Rose's tone.
Rose leaned over and lowered her voice as though she were imparting a great secret. "I might have accidentally-on-purpose maybe jumped here." She pressed a finger to her lips. "Shhhh."
"Oops," said Martha.
"Oops," agreed Rose. "Bloody huge oops when you end up in the wrong century. And the wrong end of the galaxy. With a broken dimension jumper. No money. No idea where you are." She groaned. "Idiotic, stupid, stupid thing to do."
"But it turned out alright?" said Martha, frowning and pouring more of the blue stuff down her throat.
"Yes!" declared Rose. "Yes, it did!" She cheered, smiling now. "See, there was a captain. And she felt sorry for me. Gave me a break. The Mickey was hers...before...before..." Rose frowned, one hand flailing. "There was a bit of a war, y'see. A big one."
"I'm sorry," said Martha.
"Yes." Rose nodded. "Yes, it wasn't good at all." She managed to get to her feet and promptly collapsed. "Uh, Martha," she said from the floor, "someone's done a bad thing to the artificial gravity."
In the morning, they spent several hours in the ship's kitchens, experimenting with hangover remedies.
+
Martha settled her backpack on her back and looked back at Rose, standing by the airlock of the Alpha Centauri transfer point. She could feel the smile appearing on her face, matching Rose's, and she threw aside her fears, rushed forward to embrace her in a tight hug.
"It was good to meet you," Rose whispered in her ear. "Listen, if you ever...if you ever leave him and you end up around here. You find me, okay? If you need to."
"Thank you," Martha said as they broke their hug. "Are you sure you don't want to-?"
"Yes," insisted Rose. "Just...give him this, will you?" She pressed a folded piece of paper into Martha's hand and stepped back. "See you around, Martha Jones."
And then she was gone.
Martha knew that she shouldn't; she knew positively, absolutely and certainly, and no matter what it said, she would definitely give the piece of paper to the Doctor.
She opened it and read:
Dear Doctor,
Am having a fantastic life,
love always,
Rose
P.S. Look after her
Characters: Martha Jones, Rose Tyler
Rating: G
Summary: "Captain Rose, of the starship Mickey Smith, at your service."
Written for the Rose Tyler & Martha Jones Ficathon.
A Minor Point of Departure
"Captain Rose, of the starship Mickey Smith, at your service."
Martha opened her mouth, then closed it again. When she'd booked passage on the only freighter that had any intentions of heading out the star system in the next four months, she'd been expecting the usual sort of not-too-savoury smugglers and the probable need to make heavy usage of the blaster in her backpack and the locked currency accounts she'd set-up so, if someone wanted to rob her, they'd be out of luck without the password.
"Right," she said. "Sorry, but it's not Rose Tyler is it?"
The Captain frowned, not looking exactly threatening, but definitely suspicious. "And if it was?"
"Well, then aren't you supposed to be trapped in a parallel universe with no hope of ever returning, like, ever?"
"Oh," said Rose. "That." She bit her lip, and her eyes moved behind Martha. "Y'know, I'd love to explain, but right now I think you'd better get onboard, as we appear to have company."
"Company?" A bolt of super-heated plasma shot over her shoulder as Rose grabbed her arm and pulled her into the ship. "Oh, right. Company."
Martha shrank down inside the airlock, her eyes half-closed as she watched Rose return fire from a blaster that had suddenly appeared in her hands. She appeared completely unfazed by the attack, giving Martha the impression that this wasn't the first time she'd been involved in an incident of this nature.
Maybe I am stuck with not-too-savoury space pirates after all, she thought.
+
Rose wasn't a space pirate. Nor was she unsavoury. In actuality, it was the very fact that she was so disinclined to be convinced by bribes, threats or any other currency of the spacing underworld that got her in so much trouble. Her little crew, however, from Isshtam, her staid and reserved first officer (and a Draconian of the second noble rank who seemed to have done quite a lot of things his father severely disapproved off, not least of all, running of with a young human captain and making trade runs through contested star systems) to Alice Syam, the engineer's assistant who couldn't possibly be older than twelve years, adored her.
When Martha first saw Alice, she raised her eyebrows. Rose shook her head. "Trust me," she said, "better of here than where she was."
The promised answers came when they'd managed a jump out of the system and were on course to Alpha Centauri and the heart of the Earth Empire. "I rather like this," Rose told her as she joined her in the mess hall, "a nice safe run, for once. Plenty of time for talking."
"Talking?" enquired Martha, hoping she didn't sound as worried as she felt.
"Sure," she said. "Come on, how is he? The Doctor?"
"Fine," said Martha. "Just fine...last I saw him." It took her two sips of the bitter coffee on offer before she launched into a rant of how, exactly, she'd ended up on Rose's ship and what, exactly, the Doctor could do with his brilliant suggestions of how she could help out if time, space and the universe in general was ever in danger of imminent destruction again.
Rose laughed, not mockery but understanding. "But he's going to be meeting you, right? On Alpha Centauri?"
"I bloody well hope so," Martha told her. "Or I'll be hunting him down and...well, I'll do something very unpleasant to him." She gave a side-long glance at Rose, almost afraid to ask. "You'll want to see him, yeah? Catch-up and all that?"
"Nah. I'm a bit busy. Got another contract on as soon as we drop you off."
Martha couldn't hide her surprise. "I kind of got the impression that..." She tailed off, not knowing exactly what she should say, or even what she could say.
"I said goodbye a long time ago," Rose told her. "Besides, I've already made a lot of mistakes...and too many of them come down to the Doctor. I'm doing alright. Got my ship, got my crew. Not a bad life."
"No," agreed Martha, "no it's not." Rose smiled, and Martha smiled back.
+
There was a distinctly dodgy looking bar packed with a dozen different species on the space station orbiting the gas giant. Naturally, Rose dragged Martha into it while her ship was being refuelled. "Got to show you the sights," she insisted. "And this is definitely the sort of place the Doctor would never bother to take you."
Rose ordered, and paid for, the drinks. They were blue and fizzy and tasted of mint. By the fifth round Martha had noticed that the room had become very distinctly fluid, and Rose told her exactly how she had got back into her own universe.
"They were green," she said. "Just like aliens on the telly. All green. And furry. And they were travelling in this thing they called a dimension-hopper and they kept popping up all over the place and every time they did there was an earthquake or a tidal wave or something. When we finally caught them, they were terrified. Turns out they didn't have a clue about the thing, they'd nicked it off someone visiting their universe. Anyway, six months later, we think we've figured it out and I volunteered to take them home. Pretty dangerous stuff and everyone knew it. So I said goodbye, lots of tears and wailing and, oh god, you should have heard my mum. But I got them back okay." She paused, downed the rest of he drink and waved for another round. She looked back at Martha, and said, "Just...I made a mistake on the jump back."
"A proper mistake?" asked Martha, not quite drunk enough to miss Rose's tone.
Rose leaned over and lowered her voice as though she were imparting a great secret. "I might have accidentally-on-purpose maybe jumped here." She pressed a finger to her lips. "Shhhh."
"Oops," said Martha.
"Oops," agreed Rose. "Bloody huge oops when you end up in the wrong century. And the wrong end of the galaxy. With a broken dimension jumper. No money. No idea where you are." She groaned. "Idiotic, stupid, stupid thing to do."
"But it turned out alright?" said Martha, frowning and pouring more of the blue stuff down her throat.
"Yes!" declared Rose. "Yes, it did!" She cheered, smiling now. "See, there was a captain. And she felt sorry for me. Gave me a break. The Mickey was hers...before...before..." Rose frowned, one hand flailing. "There was a bit of a war, y'see. A big one."
"I'm sorry," said Martha.
"Yes." Rose nodded. "Yes, it wasn't good at all." She managed to get to her feet and promptly collapsed. "Uh, Martha," she said from the floor, "someone's done a bad thing to the artificial gravity."
In the morning, they spent several hours in the ship's kitchens, experimenting with hangover remedies.
+
Martha settled her backpack on her back and looked back at Rose, standing by the airlock of the Alpha Centauri transfer point. She could feel the smile appearing on her face, matching Rose's, and she threw aside her fears, rushed forward to embrace her in a tight hug.
"It was good to meet you," Rose whispered in her ear. "Listen, if you ever...if you ever leave him and you end up around here. You find me, okay? If you need to."
"Thank you," Martha said as they broke their hug. "Are you sure you don't want to-?"
"Yes," insisted Rose. "Just...give him this, will you?" She pressed a folded piece of paper into Martha's hand and stepped back. "See you around, Martha Jones."
And then she was gone.
Martha knew that she shouldn't; she knew positively, absolutely and certainly, and no matter what it said, she would definitely give the piece of paper to the Doctor.
She opened it and read:
Dear Doctor,
Am having a fantastic life,
love always,
Rose
P.S. Look after her