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Eighth Doctor Drabbles

Chapter Text

The Divergence hammered on the door of their cell, nearly drowning out all other sounds. In a corner of Rassilon’s Foundry, the Great Mother, Ouida, and Lord Tepesh argued with each other.

“Fire Storm sterilization in ten microspans,” the computer intoned.

Charley ignored them all. “Where are you, Brigadier,” she whispered. “Get me out of here!”

“What’s that!” Turning, Charley saw Ouida pointing at a reflective surface hovering in the air. She was sure nothing had been there before.

“A mirror,” Lord Tepesh observed, frowning.

With no time left, Charley dived for the mirror as the bunker imploded around her.