| Ninth Doctor, Doctor Who Fan Fiction
RAKSHASA (page 2 of 3) “Be?!” exclaimed the Doctor, “well it can be, and is, a Khaanorg.” Seeing the bewilderment in his companion’s eyes the Doctor leant forward conspiratorially. “Many years from now, and billions of miles away” he explained “mankind will find they have enemies far greater than anything they have ever created, in places that are nothing like the Earth.” Sahil’s look of confusion grew but he didn’t interrupt as the Doctor warmed to his subject. “Humans will one day build armies adapted to fight their wars in different environments, armies that they control utterly and will make the Earth Empire a safer place to be. Well for humans at least.” The Doctor frowned considering his last statement before continuing, “Anyway, the Khaanorg were, will be, developed for strange alien jungles and, as you can see, are based on tiger DNA. But, unless they are under direct human control they are as harmless as pussycats, no matter how scary they look.” After a pause Sahil finally spoke, “Let us assume I believe everything you have just said,” he considered as the Doctor looked crestfallen, “what is it doing here, now, and so close to the village of my family?” The Doctor tugged on an ear as if distracted for a moment. “Well,” he said “I suspect it got drawn into part of a war where it didn’t belong, and when the war ended it was cast away like so many others to fend for itself.” The Doctor fell silent, a distant look of pain on his face. “Are you coming then?” he announced suddenly, leaping to his feet and startling Sahil, “I need a guide, and you are the only one who has seen this little lost pussycat. If I’m going to get him home I’m going to need to find him, which is where you come in!” With that the Doctor strode off through the pavilion towards the exit, while an unthinking Sahil gathered his confusion of papers and staggered quickly behind. A few days later the two men were making hot progress through the steaming jungle trying to track down the Khaanorg. Despite having been raised in the area Sahil stumbled and tripped over numerous roots, his expensive clothes getting snagged on wicked thorns while the Doctor seemed to continue unimpeded. Sahil wondered how his companion’s clothes became so battered when he never seemed trip over or catch himself on anything. It had taken a couple of days of assurances from the Timelord to calm Sahil’s fears and to make him believe that the fearsome Khaanorg was in fact harmless. This meant that the photojournalist has finally stopped jumping at shadows and was beginning to enjoy his time with the Doctor. It also meant that he didn’t notice immediately when something was amiss. “Doctor,” he hissed, “listen”. “Birds? Monkeys? The wind in the trees? Doesn’t seem unusual… What am I listening for?” he whispered. Sahil turned to the Doctor, a look of concern in his eyes, “We are very close to the village of my family,” he explained “See, look, the fields can be seen through the trees. But there should be the sounds of children playing, of men working in the fields, and there should be the smell of cooking in the air. Instead, there is nothing.” The Doctor sniffed the air, frowning. “Which way to your village?” he asked. By way of an answer the frightened Sahil turned and ran off through the undergrowth. Stern faced the Doctor sped after him. It was a scene from the worst of nightmares. Bodies lay twisted and broken over the ground, while the buildings lay in heaps of rubble. Men, women and children had been slaughtered indiscriminately either sliced open by huge talons or blown apart by an unbelievable force. Nothing was left alive. The dried blood that seemed to cover every surface gave the scene an eerie sepia effect while the smell of death filled the air. Sahil and the Doctor walked through the carnage in silence, stunned by the ferocity of the attack. Eventually Sahil turned to his companion, with tears in his eyes. “What did this?” he accused, “Bandits? The British Army? No I don’t think so. You assured me, you promised me, this was no Rakshasa, you said it was a pussycat!” “Sahil,” began the Doctor, “this is wrong, very wrong…” “You are right it is wrong” interrupted the angry Sahil, “not just wrong, evil, very evil.” “It, it must be injured, or damaged, or something,” stammered the Doctor, “perhaps driven mad by pain, acting out of character. I don’t know but I need to fix it, and fix it soon.” “Fix it?” screamed the distraught Sahil, “It must be killed, it must be destroyed. Look, see what it has done.” The Doctor placed a sympathetic hand on his companions shoulder, “I understand.” He said simply. “Understand?” spat Sahil, “how could you understand. They may not have wanted me, they may not have loved me but they were my family, my people and now they have been wiped out by some evil, evil, monster. How could you understand!?” The Doctor’s face darkened, the anger in his eyes shone like the heart of a sun and his clenched fists turned bone white. Then slowly he forced himself to relax, to forget, letting the anger ebb away. Breathing slowly he said “No, how could I? I’m sorry Sahil. But I promise you that it’s not in the nature of a Khaanorg to act this way. I know it would never have meant to do something like this. They are programmed to only fight their enemies, not innocent women and children. We have to find it. I have to heal it and take it home. I am sorry.” Sahil looked at the Timelord through dead eyes, a broken man, “Of course,” he intoned “You’re right. I’ll help you look.” With that he turned on his heel and stalked off back into the jungle. Several hours of awkward silence and exploration later the pair finally encountered their quarry. The Khaanorg was sat as still and silent as a mill pond, it’s back straight and it’s breathing calm and even. With each out breath the companions could hear a faint growl, or husky purr. It’s terrible weapon was leaning precisely against a tree in a scene that was completely at odds with the carnage at the village. “Look,” whispered the Doctor pointing, “there, at the back of it’s head. A chemical input feed has been damaged.” Sahil gave the Timelord a confused glance before turning his emotionless gaze back to the creature in the distance. “Don’t you see?” continued the Doctor, “Those two feeds from it’s back lead directly to the brain, it’s how the human commanders control the Khaanorg. A mixture of chemicals are fed directly into the brain, modifying it’s behaviour. Obviously the damage to the feed is causing it to act irrationally, making more homicidal I’m afraid. Poor thing, it would have been better that the feed had been severed completely, killing it outright, rather than this wound which is driving it mad. But the good news is, and it is good news, I can heal it, I can make it better.” The Doctor beamed before turning to his silent companion. “You stay here,” he said in a serious tone, “I’ll go and talk to it, explain that I’m a, er, the Doctor and I can help it. We’ll have it home in no time you’ll see.” He patted Sahil’s shoulder and crept closer through the tangled undergrowth. |
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