Return to Gallifrey, Chapter 3

[it’s a short one this week, folks] 

Martha sat there for a moment, completely frozen.

Then, very weakly, she near-squeaked, “Time War?”

The Doctor nodded.

“You mean to tell me,” she said, her voice rising with every word she spoke, “that we’ve been dropped on this planet right before the bloody Time War? Are you mad? We’ll be killed! Bombed into oblivion! Murdered in the streets! We’ll–”

“Hush, now, Martha,” said the Doctor calmly but firmly, “we will not. Have I ever let us down? Well? Have I?”

She hesitated for a moment, then shook her head.

“And I’m certainly not going to start now. Listen to me, Martha. We’ll make it out of here. Don’t worry.”

A silent tear rolled down Martha’s cheek, but she nodded nonetheless.

The Doctor heaved a sigh. “All I need to know now is where the hell I’m going to get a replacement regulator,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“Have they got…oh, I don’t know…repair shops, auto bodies, that sort of thing around here?” asked Martha, only half joking.

The Doctor stood up and threw open the doors of the TARDIS. “They do, in a manner of speaking,” he said slowly, “but–” he pointed squarely at the large citadel in the distance, “it’s a bit of a long ways away. And it’s our only chance. We’re going to have to enter the Citadel of the Time Lords–without any help from the TARDIS.”

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