Chapter Text
The TARDIS had been bigger on the inside. Talyn wasn't, but Donna found him just as incredible. She wandered the passageway after Bialar, awed at the size and complexity of the ship. One thing she discovered early on in the tour was that the outer corridors had rectangular windows. She liked that.
"Here."
Bialar's voice pulled her attention from the sight of the sun breaking past the Earth. She glanced over and saw he was stood by an open door. An eerie blue light washed out into the passageway. Intrigued, she crossed to the doorway and peered in.
The room was blue and cave-like, the walls crystalline in appearance. Donna stared; it was so different from the rest of the ship! She hovered on the threshold and looked at Bialar.
"Is it safe?"
"Just now, yes."
She wandered in, her gaze sweeping up the walls. There was an opening in the ceiling, leading up into the ship. Eyes on that, she bumped in to something. She jerked back. Three spikes jutted from the floor, glittering with internal lights.
"What is this place?" she asked.
"Leviathans are capable of a manoeuvre known as Starburst. That requires a build-up of energy and this is where that is created."
Donna stared around the room again.
"I see."
"Of course, that does mean this chamber is rather dangerous when Talyn is in flight."
She gave him a withering look.
"You don't say."
He glanced at her and she held his gaze. He shrugged a shoulder.
"Perhaps that information was unnecessary," he allowed. "But I would rather you had that information instead of having to clear your charred remains from the chamber."
"Okay, point taken," she said hastily, suppressing a shudder as she exited the room quickly. She wound her hands around his arm and eyed the chamber warily. "Maybe you should show me somewhere a little safer."
Bialar smiled slightly and waved his hand over the door control, shutting the chamber off. As he led her up the corridor, she glanced over her shoulder and made a mental note of which door that was; she didn't want to wander in there by mistake.
"Command," he announced then.
She turned back. This room was the usual red and black. There were control backs down each side and several windows at the far end.
"Ooh," Donna said and extracted her hands from Bialar's arm. She wandered to the nearest console and touched it lightly. "Oh, now this is a spaceship!"
"Please don't touch," he replied and took hold of her wrist. "Talyn is a very sensitive craft."
"Uh huh, him and his captain," she retorted and pulled her hand free. "I wasn't pressing anything, Bialar."
"Hm."
He elbowed her aside. She huffed, but his fingers were already working over the console. She watched him, rather fascinated by his delicate touch and the fact he actually seemed to know what he was doing. She edged closer, glanced at the intent expression on his face, and got a rather wicked idea.
"What's that do?" she asked, tapping a light with one fingernail.
"Donna," he said in a warning tone.
"How 'bout that one?"
"Will you stop that!" She chuckled and he glowered at her. "It is not funny."
"You only think that because you've no sense of humour. You're very… austere, Bialar."
"Yes, well, some of us were raised in austere circumstances. If you find that I am not easily amused, you might consider that there is a reason."
His tone was cold, but there was an undercurrent of something else. She moved around the console so that she could see his face. His eyes were on the console, his expression closed off, yet despite that she caught a slight hint of vulnerability. She felt a spike of guilt at teasing him and reached out, laying her hand over his.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I was just trying to lighten the mood."
He gazed at her for a moment and then sighed.
"I know. And I probably over-reacted. I am… not good with people, Donna. Not on a personal level, anyway. I… don't know how."
That took her aback. "What do you mean?"
Bialar sighed again and looked away. "Not now."
She watched him go to a different console, effectively shutting her out. She frowned, recognising in him something she'd see in the Doctor - here was a man who had seen too much, had taken more hurt than a being ought to. Her heart ached for him.
"When?" she asked and saw him freeze. "At what point will you trust me enough?"
"It is not a matter of trust," he replied. His voice was cool, clipped. She arched an eyebrow.
"Oh, really? Then what is it a matter of, then?"
He glanced at her, then back at the console.
"It's a matter of me not wanting to talk about it right now. You do not need to know, you only want to."
"Yes!" she exclaimed, feeling a sudden irritation at him. "Because it might help me understand you better! Look, we're either together in this or…"
He looked up sharply. "Or what, Donna? I don't respond well to threats."
"It wasn't- Oh, forget it. Forget I asked."
She turned away and stalked to the window, looked down at the planet. Talyn's orbit kept them over the northern hemisphere and she could make out the United Kingdom. She placed her hand on the glass and sighed softly, wondering if this was such a good idea after all.
"Are you hungry?"
"What?"
"I said, are you hungry? I just thought that maybe… maybe you'd like something to eat."
Donna frowned, bewildered by the change in their conversation and that in him. She faced him, trying to figure out what was going on. Maybe this was his attempt at holding out an olive branch. She decided to take it as such.
"Yes, actually I am." She tilted her head. "You can cook?"
He looked mildly affronted.
"Yes, actually I can." He offered her a smile and the crook of his arm. "Come with me. I think you will be pleasantly surprised."
She let go of her irritation and crossed Command to take his arm.
"Alright," she said. "This I want to see. Lead on."
After weekens of travel, Talyn was somewhat sort of supplies. Bialar managed to find a couple of eggs and some unspoiled sliced meat. It was not quite enough to fully show off the extent of his culinary skills, but he hoped it would be enough to satisfy Donna's hunger. He glanced at her.
She was sat at the table, her hands wrapped around a mug and her eyes on the stars visible through the viewport. Her expression seemed a little sad, and he wondered if she were regretting her decision to come with him.
Whether he had made her regret it.
He hoped not; for all his antagonism towards her, he did like her. He just wasn't sure if she should be going with him or not. She would, after all, be leaving all that she knew behind her. Having done that himself…
She turned then and caught him watching her. A smile broke over her face. He could not help but smile in response. Then a sharp pop from behind made him remember their breakfast and he turned back to it quickly. He managed to catch the meat before it singed and flipped it out on to the waiting plates. Adding the eggs and some bread, he carried them to the table and placed one in front of Donna.
"There you are."
"Ooh thanks." He expected some hesitation, but she dabbed up yolk from her eggs with the bread and bit in. "Hmm, not bad," she said around a mouthful.
"Evidence that I can cook a passable meal at least," he said. "Even if I am somewhat lacking in… other departments."
She smiled and took another bite. Swallowing it, she took a drink and put her cup down. "I never said you were lacking, just... reticient."
"I believe one is as bad as the other," he replied. "And in either respect, you were right, but I did warn you that I was not good with people."
"You did, I suppose. I just didn't realise you really meant it."
"And now?"
"Now I know you're as bad with people as you said you were." She delivered this with a bright smile that more or less countered her words. Then she reached out and patted his hand. "I'm sure you'll get over that."
"Thank you, I think." He shifted his hand and closed his thumb over her fingers. His reward was an even brighter smile and she squeezed his hand. He nodded at her plate. "How's your food?"
Donna pulled her hand back and picked up her fork again. "It's good," she said. "You know, it's weird; I was never really one for exotic stuff, really. I mean, Chinese and Indian, sure, but that's not proper foreign food is it?"
He had no idea. "Apparently not."
"I remember the first time I had alien food, I mean, proper alien food. I was half-afraid it'd kill me, but then I thought, what was the point in going out there, all that way, and not trying everything? Wasn't one, was there?"
"And how was it?"
She looked at him for a moment, and then a grin broke her face.
"Bloody awful."
Bialar had been chewing but at this declaration almost choked on his mouthful. It caught in his throat, resulting in him coughing and laughing at the same time. Donna chuckled and then pushed his cup into his hands. He swallowed some of his drink down and found he could breathe easier.
"Donna!"
"Sorry," she said, though she didn't seem overly apologetic.
"At least I rate higher than that," he said, still wheezing somewhat. He took another sip of his drink. "Seeing as you are eating what I put in front of you, I surmise that experience did not stop you trying?"
"Nah." She dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand. "Just cos I hated one thing didn't mean I wouldn't like the next, did it? Trying the cuisine is half the adventure."
He smiled at her, not particularly surprised by that. "What about the other half?"
"Usually taken up with running."
"Ah, yes. That I have done."
"You ran away from the… Peacekeepers, did you call them?"
"Yes." He picked up his cup and swirled the liquid. "It is not a… pleasant regime, Donna. They believe in eradicating any emotion that makes one weak. Compassion, regard, love; there is no room in the ranks for such things."
She looked shocked.
"You have never… loved?" Her tone was incredulous, but she immediately seemed to regret the question and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."
"It's okay," he said softly. "I do not mind the question. I… have. Unlike most, I was not born on a Carrier - that's their ships - but on a world such as yours. I had a family; a father and mother and… and a younger brother. We were taken when we were very young."
Donna put a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror.
"You were kidnapped?"
"It wasn't called that, but for all intents and purposes, yes I was."
Her eyes glimmered and she put her hand over his. "That's awful," she said in a husky voice. "I'm so sorry."
Seeing her so moved shifted something within him. He swallowed against a rise of old grief that surprised him and, for several microts, could do nothing other than struggle to maintain a calm demeanour. Donna's grip tightened.
"It's okay," he said, a necessary lie. "It was a long time ago."
"It doesn't look like it's okay," she retorted. "In fact, it looks anything but. So they took you away from your parents and… and made you a soldier?"
Her voice shook and when he looked up he saw she had a rather ill expression on her face.
"They did. Not that I was ever…" He paused and smiled slightly. "I was never really a good advertisement for the process. A little too… stubborn and rebellious for their liking."
"Oh, that's a shame," she said with mock sincerity. They shared a smile and he squeezed her fingers.
"Unfortunately, one cannot live in such an atmosphere without it… effecting one. Eventually, I became more what they wanted and I… I was rather good at it. I rose through the ranks, was promoted to captain and under that capacity I did a lot of things that I should not have."
"Was there a choice?"
"Someone once told me that there is always a choice," Bialar told her. "I chose to do certain things even though I knew they were not right, but it was not just myself that I was protecting; I was also protecting Tauvo."
"Your brother," she guessed and he nodded.
"Yes."
She looked round, clearly seeing the lack of said brother. Her eyes returned to his face and he saw the silent question in them.
"He died," he supplied, feeling the ache once again. "Three cycles ago."
"Cycles?" she questioned softly.
"I'm sorry. I think a cycle is a little longer than one of your years. I'm not entirely sure on that, though."
Donna toyed with her cup. "So… what happened?"
"He was flying a smaller ship, a Prowler. There was a shuttle, a craft that appeared out of a wormhole." Bialar paused, then took a deep breath. "A ship from Earth."
She looked up, clearly startled.
"You mean…"
He nodded. "Yes. I've met one of your kind before."