The Time of Change

Alaya

"Are you sure?" Hunter asks the Doctor as they walk down the stone steps to the crypt below the church. "By yourself?"

"Very sure."

"But the sting—?"

"The venom gland takes at least twenty-four hours to recharge. Am I right? I'm right," he answers himself. Hunter rolls his eyes with cocked eyebrows. "I know what I'm doing. I'll be fine." Hunter nods as they approach the open threshold, casting an uneasy glance at the creature sitting propped up against the back wall. They have not yet removed the lizard-like protective mask over its face. After throwing a weighty look at the Doctor, Hunter retreats back up the stairs.

The captive moves out of the shadows, the chains that keep it tethered to wall rattling. He addresses it with kindness. "I'm the Doctor. I've come to talk. I'm going to take off your mask now." He gently takes the light metallic shell in his hand and peels it off the scaly face of the creature. He wagers that it must be a female judging by the curve of the lips and shape of the eyes. Her eyes are the same deep, poisonous yellow that Ambrose and Tony saw in the graveyard. He sighs softly.

"You are beautiful," he tells her. "Remnant of a bygone age on planet Earth. And by the way, lovely mode of travel. Geothermal currents projecting you up through a network of tunnels. Gorgeous. Mind if I sit?" Without pausing so she can answer, the Doctor plants himself comfortably on the stone ground in front of the reptile-woman. "Now," he says, casual, "your people have someone very important to me. I want her back. Why did you come to the surface?"

He waits for a response but receives none. "What do you want?" he tries again. Still no answer. He groans. "Oh, I do hate a monologue. Give us a bit back. How many are you?"

"I am the last of my species," the reptile-woman replies icily.

The Doctor holds in a scoff with some difficulty. "Really? No. Last of the species. The Klempari Defense. As an interrogation defense, bit of an old hat, that one, I'm afraid."

"I am the last of my species," she repeats.

"No, you're really not," says the Doctor, his tone hard, "because I'm the last of my species, and I know how that sits in a heart. So don't insult me." The reptile-woman flinches slightly but otherwise continues to show no emotion. "Let's start again," he adds in a more cheerful voice. "Tell me your name."

"... Alaya."

"How long has your tribe been sleeping under the Earth, Alaya? It's not difficult to work out. You're three hundred million years out of your comfort zone. Question is, what woke you now?"

Alaya tenses. "We were attacked."

"The drill," the Doctor supplies.

"Our sensors detected a threat to our life support systems," Alaya tells him formally, as if she has rehearsed this speech. "The warrior class was activated to prevent the assault. We will wipe the vermin from the surface and reclaim our planet."

"Oh, do we have to say 'vermin?'" the Doctor asks. "They're really very nice."

"Primitive apes," spits Alaya.

"Extraordinary species. You attack them, and they fight back. But... there's a peace to be brokered here. I can help you with that."

"This land is ours. We lived here long before the apes."

"Doesn't give you any automatic rights to it now, I'm afraid. Humans won't give up the planet."

"So we destroy them."