Within the magnificent craft, Alf, Nick, Vlaash and his pilot all stood in a small room on a raised dais. Vlaash placed a clamp-like hand on Alf’s shoulder and gestured around the tiny chamber. ‘You are in for a pleasant surprise, Alf. For you are about to be re-acquainted with an old friend.’

Alf looked around the room, but she was not smiling. ‘That’s nice. One nasty surprise was bad enough.’ She looked down at the small Martian. ‘What just happened? Weren’t we just fired upon by four warships?’

The pilot stepped off the dais and nodded his helmeted head. ‘We were. But we were transmatted off before the sonic cannons destroyed the ship.’

‘Well that’s nice,’ Nick said. ‘They wanted to finish us off personally.’

Vlaash shook his head. ‘Not so, Nick. You still fail to see things clearly.’

‘Yeah, I seem to be having real trouble in that area these days.’

The hidden meaning of Nick’s remark was not lost on Alf, but as with a lot of things Nick had said recently Alf decided to leave a response until later. ‘What do you mean, Vlaash? If this is not one of the warships what is it?’

‘This is a warship,’ the pilot hissed.

Vlaash nodded. ‘He speaks the truth. This is a warship, but one that is on our side.’ He pointed at an emblem on the wall. Neither Nick nor Alf could read the Martian inscription underneath the emblem. ‘This is the “Sou'thor'gx”.’

‘Which means?’ Alf asked.

‘Which means it belongs to...’ Vlaash let his proclamation tail off as a door ground open. He turned to face the solid bulk of the Martian warrior that had entered the room. He placed his arm across his chest in the Martian salute and bowed. ‘Sub-Commander Stoorxz, on behalf of the Order of Oras I thank you.’

Sub-Commander Stoorxz returned the salute. ‘It is my honour, Abbot Vlaash, to be of service to the Order.’

‘You do me honour, Sub-Commander, but I am not an abbot yet. Not until I meet with Emperor Izlyr.’

Nick nudged Alf in the ribs. ‘Whose this bloke then?’

‘Not sure. Looks familiar though.’

Both Vlaash and Stoorxz turned to Nick and Alf. The Sub-Commander offered a salute to Alf and bowed. ‘Shsurr Alf, it is my honour to meet you again.’ He turned to Nick, who was looking at him oddly. ‘You do not remember me?’

‘Should we?’ Nick enquired.

‘Sub-Commander Stoorxz is second to Commander Xzalnyr in the Honour Guard. You met him at the internment camp on Alpha Centauri almost two years ago,’ Vlaash offered.

Nick eyed the sub-commander. He supposed the Martian warrior could have been there at the interment camp.

‘I was sent by Commander Xzalnyr to meet you, Vlaash. The warships that destroyed your vessel are on the way to Peladon, to assist Commander Sshaarp who is already reclaiming that planet for the Martian Empire.’

This news did not go down too well with any of the rooms’ occupants. Vlaash shook his head. Nick stepped forward. ‘I only met Izlyr for a short while, but even I cannot believe he would condone such a thing.’

‘The President of the Federation suspected this would happen,’ Alf said.

‘Emperor Izlyr has nothing to do with the actions of Commander Sshaarp.’ Vlaash walked towards the door, then turned back to look at Alf and Nick. ‘It is another reason I am returning to Mars. And why I wanted the assistance of the Doctor.’ (Nick frowned and looked down at his feet, Alf looked at him curiously.) ‘Someone with a lot of influence in the Empire is manipulating Emperor Izlyr. We must find out who he is and put a stop to this.’

Alf looked away from Nick, her mind focused on the problem at hand. ‘Damn right we do. No one can afford another war.’

Vlaash looked at Stoorxz. ‘Sub-Commander, set a direct course for Mars. Time is running out.’

Stoorxz saluted. ‘At once, High Priest Vlaash!’

Alf watched the sub-commander leave the transmat room, followed by the one-time pilot of Vlaash’s ship. Nick smiled grimly at her, but she knew it was an empty smile. He was simply trying to hide behind the emergency of the current situation. She sighed inwardly, just like her Nick would soon have to deal with the personal issues plaguing them. For him it was his loss, and for her it was dealing once and for all with her destructive nature.

‘Vlaash,’ she said, causing the priest to stop in the doorway and look back at her. ‘Can you get me access to some sort of communication device? I need to inform the President about the Martian presence on Peladon.’

Vlaash bowed. ‘Of course, Shsurr Alf. If you would care to follow me?’

Alf and Nick followed him out of the transmat room. The door ground to a close behind them.




The Chancellor continued to stare after the heavily armed Martians leading King Garet and his party even after they disappeared down the corridor.

‘How could this happen again?’ he whispered under his breath, confusion and anger in his voice.

‘Never mind how,’ the “Doctor” responded. ‘The question is, what are we going to do about it? What would you suggest?’

‘What can we do? They have the King!’

‘You must have some sort of procedure to follow in this kind of emergency?’ Howerts looked away, refusing to meet the “Doctor’s” gaze. The “Doctor” smiled and clapped his hands together. ‘Brilliant. Procedures can be so boring.’ He went silent, rubbing his earlobe in thought. ‘They’re probably going to imprison him in a cell, we’ll just have to get him out.’ He turned back to Howerts, his eyes alight with excitement. ‘Chancellor, show me the passageways to those cells!’

‘You must be mad! You’ve given me no proof you are the Doctor, yet you want access to the hidden passageways?’

The “Doctor” replied in absolute seriousness. ‘Would you really prefer to see your King tortured and executed?’

‘No, never!’ Whatever doubts he had about this “Doctor”, Howerts’ loyalty to King Garet and Peladon was unequivocal. ‘All right. Come, I’ll show you the way.’




The passageways were very much a maze, and it took a long while before the “Doctor,” Chancellor Howerts and the two guards even reached the detention area. Warning the others to be quiet by putting his index finger to his lips, the “Doctor” moved cautiously forward and looked toward the cells. He saw only one Martian warrior, who was locking the cell door. Inside the cell was King Garet, looking weary and beaten.

‘Yes, King Garet’s inside one of the cells. That means we need a plan.’ The “Doctor” considered, returning to the Chancellor. ‘Hmm, I wonder…’

‘What are you going to do?’ Howerts asked him quietly.

‘Oh just try a little diversion. Of course, I haven’t done this in a while.’ The “Doctor” nodded with a lop-sided grin. ‘Still, it should work. Either way, it’s worth a try.’

The “Doctor” took a deep breath and, like a ventriloquist, threw his voice down the end of the corridor. Then, suddenly a loud crash, and someone hissed urgently, ‘There’s a problem down here. Guard! At once!’

The lone Martian guard stood up, jerked to attention and started down the corridor. Smiling, but knowing they couldn’t waste a second, the “Doctor”, with Howerts and the Pels following, rushed toward the cells. With the Pels keeping watch, the “Doctor” paused before the locked cell door.

‘Erm, Chancellor, do you happen to have the key? No? Never mind.’ The “Doctor” started rummaging around in his pockets for something. ‘Ah, here we go, this might do the trick.’ He took out a set of rusty old metal keys.

Howerts peered at him incredulously. ‘That’s supposed to open the cell door?’

The “Doctor” didn’t look up but replied in a whisper. ‘One of them is, yes, but which one?’ He bit his lip again, and picked a key seemingly at random. ‘This one.’ The “Doctor” twisted the key to the left and then to the right. ‘Come on, I know this is the right key,’ he said under his breath as he twisted the key to the left yet again.

‘Hurry up, we don’t have all day! That guard will be back any moment,’ Howerts complained.

The door clicked open, and the “Doctor” turned back at the Chancellor with an “I told you so” look. He beamed at the King. ‘Quickly, your Majesty,’ the “Doctor” said, leading the way back to the secret passageways.

Only once safely inside the passageways did King Garet look back at his rescuer. ‘Do I know you?’ he asked, trying hard to place the “Doctor” in his memory.

The “Doctor” grinned, and tried to explain. ‘Yes and no, your Majesty. I’m the Doctor,’ he paused when he noticed confusion in King Garet’s eyes. ‘Oh dear, you don’t understand either. I’ve regenerated, you see.’

The King hesitated.

The “Doctor” looked at him imploringly. ‘You have to believe me. It’s an ability my race has. Perfect for disguise, if nothing else.’

King Garet still did not really understand, but since this man had rescued him from the Martians, Garet was willing to accept what the man was claiming.

‘Your Majesty, are you all right?’ Howerts asked anxiously. ‘Did those Martians…’

‘I’m all right now, Chancellor.’ The King dismissed the Chancellor’s concern. He would recover from his treatment by the Martians, what mattered was his people. Are the Martians already taking over Peladon? No, my people have had enough of war and destruction.

‘What is happening? Is the Galactic Federation even aware there are Martian warriors on Peladon again?’ King Garet insisted. ‘Tell me!’

Before the “Doctor” could reply, they heard a commotion out in the main detention area. Two voices were berating the Martian that had been guarding the King.

‘Where is he?’ an angry voice hissed.

‘How did the Pel King escape?’ The second voice hissed louder. ‘When Commander Sshaarp finds out about this, you will pay for your ineptitude!’

Not wanting to be discovered, the “Doctor”, King Garet and the others moved quickly deeper into the passageways. The two Pel guards kept glancing behind them all the while, to reassure themselves they hadn’t been detected.

The King stopped walking and gazed at the “Doctor” and Howerts. ‘What can we do to save my people?’

‘We can fight back, your Highness,’ Howerts exclaimed. ‘We can rebel.’

‘No!’ King Garet answered firmly. ‘No. Resisting the Martians means another war.’ The King was adamant. No, I want no more deaths on my conscience.

The “Doctor“ nodded his agreement. ‘Quite right, too.’ He stroked the yellow flower on his breast pocket. ‘Far too many lives have been lost in this universe as it is.’ He sighed and looked to the ground, a shadow of anguish behind his eyes. When he looked back up the “Doctor” was smiling grimly. ‘We must find some way to contact the Federation, your Majesty. That’s the only other choice you have.’

The King considered the options open to him and saw no other alternative, short of another war. ‘I agree,’ he sighed, his eyes showing the strain.

‘Good.’ The “Doctor” glanced at both King Garet and Chancellor Howerts and smiled. ‘I might just have the plan we need.’

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