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The Doctor [userpic]
(2) Red Caps and Kapos
by The Doctor (the_cosmic_hobo)
at September 12th, 2006 (11:31 am)

we're feeling: rushed
tardis radio: triage

Continued from here. Ten points to anyone who gets the subject reference!

The Doctor had been blown halfway to nowhere without a hat. Of course he'd picked up the first hat he saw. Wouldn't anybody? Especially with that fancy feather in the rim? And of course it turned out to be a soldier's hat -- didn't it always -- instantly recognizable to the other soldiers who, as might have been expected, thundered up minutes after he'd put the thing on.

There was one difference, this time. The soldiers were intelligent enough to recognize that nobody on the planet looked remotely like the Doctor, and open-minded enough not to assume him a spy from some hypothetical space invasion. They watched him, of course, but generally treated him civilly; and given past experiences, he wasn't sure whether to find that endearing or suspicious.

Naturally they couldn't allow him to wander around the camp unattended, so they'd stuck him in a hospital tent. He knew he should be trying to escape and locate Jamie and Victoria -- who knew where they'd landed after that freak time-storm? -- but the technology level here was frankly appalling. Within six minutes, he was shouting for hot water and helping a burly healer stitch up a gaping wound in a soldier's side.

It seemed like hours later when shouting outside alerted them to a new group of patients being brought in. Captives, of course, were last on line for medical treatment, but the Doctor, passing the group on the way to another patient, glimpsed a familiar face and shoved the guards aside.


In the other camp, the blue troop had taken half the day to process their captive. When two soldiers dragged the kilted figure toward the prisoners' tent, the Doctor was sitting on an overturned bucket outside, his chain still firmly in place, innocently twiddling on his recorder.

As it turned out, nobody inspected the stake he'd tampered with. They just pounded a new one into place, hammered a manacle around the new prisoner's foot, and left him unconscious in front of the tent.

"Jamie.... poor lad, what have they done to you?" muttered the Doctor, turning his friend over the moment they were out of sight. There were few visible injuries, but the boy had obviously been dragged along the ground and, at some point, kicked in the head.

The Doctor wet his kerchief and cleaned the laceration as best he could. But there was something strange about the boy's face....

"He's aged! And by several years, too!" Shocked, the Doctor sat back. Yesterday Jamie had been just a boy soldier, fresh out of Culloden. Now his hair was longer, his face faintly lined.

The Doctor pulled Jamie into the tent's shadow, out from under the lowering clouds, and went back to whittling through the stake. Where have you been, Jamie? he thought to himself. What happened to you in those intervening years?


Posted by: The Doctor (the_cosmic_hobo)
Posted at: September 17th, 2006 02:42 pm (UTC)

"Oh my. Brigadier?" The Doctor stumbled, trying to hold his friend up; Lethbridge-Stewart was a tall man, even unconscious. "Narvon, give me a hand here--"

The burly medic looked over from the chronic cases, a fevered foot-soldier who had been raving for days. "Leave the prisoners alone -- they don't need any mothering."

"Can't you see this man's fainted? Help me get him over to a cot."

Narvon stared. "Him? Waste valuable resources on a prisoner? What are you still holding him up for?"

Stung by the medic's disdain, the Doctor hoisted the Brigadier's arm over his shoulder and steered him over to the nearest empty pallet. Narvon snorted, but didn't interfere.

The Brigadier's eyes were slightly dilated. Concussion, definitely; and internal injuries, though doubtful, could not be ruled out. The Doctor raised the legs of the pallet, elevating the patient's heart. And he was sure he'd seen some ice in the water trough outside.....

"All right, old fellow," muttered the Doctor, checking his friend's pulse. "I don't know what's going on, but it'll all work out soon. You see, I've been having a few ideas."

Posted by: The Doctor (the_cosmic_hobo)
Posted at: December 3rd, 2006 04:43 pm (UTC)

Narvon's yell, a moment later, called the Doctor away from his patient. "I'll be right back, old chap," he muttered, patting the Brigadier on the shoulder, and hurried off to lend his back to the setting of a warbird's broken leg. It took three medics to hold the beast down, and its anguished cries chilled the Doctor's marrow as the bone was wrenched into place.

Predictably, the Doctor talked to it, telling it everything would be all right and what they were doing was for its own good. The aliens stared at him as though he was insane. But the giant bird quieted slightly, and he thought he glimpsed some scraps of intelligence under the pain in its hawklike eyes.

Released, he hurried back into the tent to see whether the Brigadier was awake.

The cot was empty, the blanket twisted off onto the floor.

The Doctor's mouth dropped open. "Oh crumbs."

He whirled around, frantically scanning the tent. The man did have a concussion, after all. How far could he have gone?

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