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Description
It was dark, so, so dark. The villagers could barely see as they huddled together, their hearts in their throats. Even in the scarce light they could make out the gruesome visage of the creature that loomed over them.
It looked like a pepper pot, with a body covered with round orb objects. It had one arm that looked to be a whisk and another that resembled a toilet plunger.
This would be a comic appearance if it weren’t for the voice. The creature spoke with a high, grating voice that chilled the blood. There was an unspoken promise that its threats were not to be taken lightly.
“Move!” it croaked, its whisk arm quivering menacingly.
A child, no more than four, cried out and buried herself in her mother’s arms.
“Please!” the woman pleaded, holding her child close, shielding the child’s body. “We’ll do whatever you say. Just please don’t hurt us!”
The rest of the villagers mumbled their agreement, swallowing past the fear that tightened their throats.
“Da-leks do not answer to humans!” the creature, Dalek, groaned.
“But you do answer to someone.”
A woman stepped out of the crowd. She was not like the Indian villagers, she was white, an aged faced, though her eyes shone with youthfulness. Her hair was so blonde, it could have been white. Even though, she spoke harshly, the fear was evident in the way her voice quavered.
“Da-leks answer to no one!”
“Does the name, the Doctor mean anything to you!?”
The Dalek froze for a second. “Doc-Tor!”
“Scan me. You’ll find me in your records, too.”
The Dalek stared at her for several long seconds. ‘Josephine Grant,” it said finally.
“It’s Jo Jones now,” the woman corrected. She turned to the villagers. “I’ll handle this. You lot get ready to run.”
The villagers looked between the old woman and the monster. Why was she challenging it? Didn’t she know that she could be killed?
“You are an associate of the Doc-Tors!” the Dalek cried.
“Old friend. Haven’t seen him in years,” Jo replied.
“Where is he!?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since the 70’s, but I’ll strike you a deal, eh?”
“Dal-eks do not make deals with hu-mans. You will be ex-ter-min-ated!”
“I’m much more valuable dead than alive!” Jo cried, throwing her hands out in placation.
“You do not know where the Doc-tor is. You are use-less.”
“I have his number!”
Everyone turned to see a young black woman come out of the shadows. She was dressed head-to-toe in black leather and her hair was short and styled up in a Mohawk.
“Who are you?” the Dalek inquired.
“Me?” the woman sneered. “I’m Doctor Martha Jones.”
Before the Dalek could react, Martha pulled a giant gun from her rucksack.
“Now, Dalek, why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”
The Dalek raised its whisk arm. “Ex-term ….”
The rest was cut off by a massive explosion from the woman’s gun. A bright blue light illuminated the clearing, making it as bright as day. The beam from the gun hit the Dalek right on the dome of its pepperpot body and it exploded.
Smoke oozed out of the empty shell where the dome had been moments before.
Martha turned to the villagers. “Is anyone hurt? I’m a doctor. I can help.”
They all shook their heads emphatically, their eyes wide.
Jo laughed and approached the woman. “How did you…?”
“I’ve seen a Dalek or two in my day,” Martha replied, smiling warmly.
“But if you know the Daleks, you must know…”
“The Doctor?”
“Yes!”
A look of sadness washed over Martha’s face so briefly that Jo questioned whether she had really seen it.
‘You know him, don’t you?” she pressed.
“I travelled with him for a bit, yeah. I haven’t heard from him in a year or so, though. The last time I saw him, my husband Mickey and I were hunting a Sontaran. Suddenly, it dropped down, unconscious, and there he was.”
“What did he say!?” Jo had not seen or spoken to the Doctor since their last meeting back in 1973. She still held out hope that she’d see him again. They’d been best mates back in the day.
There was that sadness again. “He didn’t say anything. He just waved. I knew something was wrong, but before I could figure it out, he turned and got back in the TARDIS. “
“Oh, the TARDIS!” Jo exclaimed, a grin enveloping her face. How she’d missed the TARDIS!
“I think he was dying. He looked so…defeated.”
“Regeneration!”
“Sorry?”
“The Doctor doesn’t die! He regenerates!”
“He what?”
“He’s a Time Lord. Time Lords don’t die. Not normally. When they get mortally wounded, their body repairs itself. They change their face and personality, but they’re still alive! I’ve never seen one myself, but I’ve heard of it. Time Lords get twelve regeneration cycles. The Doctor I met was the Third incarnation.”
“My Doctor once told me he was the Tenth Doctor. He never explained what that meant. Hold on, how do you know him?”
“I travelled with him, too, back in the 70’s. We had the greatest adventures, that mad man and I. I met him when I hired into UNIT.”
“I used to work for UNIT.”
“Yes!”
Before Martha could say anything, the woman enveloped her in a surprisingly tight hug for a woman who had to be in her sixties.
“Oh, you beautiful girl!”
Martha couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name…?”
“Right, sorry!” the woman giggled. “Always was a bit thick, me. I’m Jo Grant. Well, Jo Jones now.”
“Jo Grant! I remember hearing about you when I worked at UNIT! You’re a legend!”
Jo blushed. “Hardly, my dear. I’m afraid I was never very good at all that, but I did know how to make a good cup of tea.”
Martha grinned. “I can’t believe I’m meeting you!”
“Oh, pish.”
“Martha chewed her lip. “Wait, you said a Time Lord gets twelve regeneration cycles, yeah?”
Jo shrugged. “Typically, yes.”
“So, if my Doctor was the Tenth Doctor, that means he’s out there somewhere!”
“We can hope!”
“Wait til I tell Mickey. We’ve been worried sick!”
“Mickey?”
“My husband.”
“Oh, that’s right! Silly me.”
Martha tucked the gun back in her rucksack. “Listen, it was really great to meet you, Jo. I’ve got to go find Mickey, tell him the news.”
“Of course, love.”
Martha gave her a quick hug and started walking away.
“Oh, wait, Martha!” Jo called. “Stay in touch, will you?”
“What’s your number?”
“I haven’t got a phone.”
“Where do you live?”
“The world is my home.
“Mine, too. Listen,” Martha walked back over and scribbled an address on a piece of paper she’d taken out of her pocket, “this my parents’ house. If you ever need to get in touch with me, send me a letter there. “
“I sure will, sweetheart.”
“Okay.” Martha smiled warmly and started off again.
“Oh, and Martha!” Jo yelled after her. Martha turned back. “If you see the Doctor, give him my love, will you?”
“I will!” Martha promised.
Jo watched Martha disappear back into the darkness. She couldn’t fight the grin that crept across her face. The Doctor was still out there, travelling through time and space, righting wrongs and saving lives. Who knew? Maybe their paths would cross again….
Laughing jovially, Jo turned and headed back to the village.

Description
It was dark, so, so dark. The villagers could barely see as they huddled together, their hearts in their throats. Even in the scarce light they could make out the gruesome visage of the creature that loomed over them.
It looked like a pepper pot, with a body covered with round orb objects. It had one arm that looked to be a whisk and another that resembled a toilet plunger.
This would be a comic appearance if it weren’t for the voice. The creature spoke with a high, grating voice that chilled the blood. There was an unspoken promise that its threats were not to be taken lightly.
“Move!” it croaked, its whisk arm quivering menacingly.
A child, no more than four, cried out and buried herself in her mother’s arms.
“Please!” the woman pleaded, holding her child close, shielding the child’s body. “We’ll do whatever you say. Just please don’t hurt us!”
The rest of the villagers mumbled their agreement, swallowing past the fear that tightened their throats.
“Da-leks do not answer to humans!” the creature, Dalek, groaned.
“But you do answer to someone.”
A woman stepped out of the crowd. She was not like the Indian villagers, she was white, an aged faced, though her eyes shone with youthfulness. Her hair was so blonde, it could have been white. Even though, she spoke harshly, the fear was evident in the way her voice quavered.
“Da-leks answer to no one!”
“Does the name, the Doctor mean anything to you!?”
The Dalek froze for a second. “Doc-Tor!”
“Scan me. You’ll find me in your records, too.”
The Dalek stared at her for several long seconds. ‘Josephine Grant,” it said finally.
“It’s Jo Jones now,” the woman corrected. She turned to the villagers. “I’ll handle this. You lot get ready to run.”
The villagers looked between the old woman and the monster. Why was she challenging it? Didn’t she know that she could be killed?
“You are an associate of the Doc-Tors!” the Dalek cried.
“Old friend. Haven’t seen him in years,” Jo replied.
“Where is he!?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since the 70’s, but I’ll strike you a deal, eh?”
“Dal-eks do not make deals with hu-mans. You will be ex-ter-min-ated!”
“I’m much more valuable dead than alive!” Jo cried, throwing her hands out in placation.
“You do not know where the Doc-tor is. You are use-less.”
“I have his number!”
Everyone turned to see a young black woman come out of the shadows. She was dressed head-to-toe in black leather and her hair was short and styled up in a Mohawk.
“Who are you?” the Dalek inquired.
“Me?” the woman sneered. “I’m Doctor Martha Jones.”
Before the Dalek could react, Martha pulled a giant gun from her rucksack.
“Now, Dalek, why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”
The Dalek raised its whisk arm. “Ex-term ….”
The rest was cut off by a massive explosion from the woman’s gun. A bright blue light illuminated the clearing, making it as bright as day. The beam from the gun hit the Dalek right on the dome of its pepperpot body and it exploded.
Smoke oozed out of the empty shell where the dome had been moments before.
Martha turned to the villagers. “Is anyone hurt? I’m a doctor. I can help.”
They all shook their heads emphatically, their eyes wide.
Jo laughed and approached the woman. “How did you…?”
“I’ve seen a Dalek or two in my day,” Martha replied, smiling warmly.
“But if you know the Daleks, you must know…”
“The Doctor?”
“Yes!”
A look of sadness washed over Martha’s face so briefly that Jo questioned whether she had really seen it.
‘You know him, don’t you?” she pressed.
“I travelled with him for a bit, yeah. I haven’t heard from him in a year or so, though. The last time I saw him, my husband Mickey and I were hunting a Sontaran. Suddenly, it dropped down, unconscious, and there he was.”
“What did he say!?” Jo had not seen or spoken to the Doctor since their last meeting back in 1973. She still held out hope that she’d see him again. They’d been best mates back in the day.
There was that sadness again. “He didn’t say anything. He just waved. I knew something was wrong, but before I could figure it out, he turned and got back in the TARDIS. “
“Oh, the TARDIS!” Jo exclaimed, a grin enveloping her face. How she’d missed the TARDIS!
“I think he was dying. He looked so…defeated.”
“Regeneration!”
“Sorry?”
“The Doctor doesn’t die! He regenerates!”
“He what?”
“He’s a Time Lord. Time Lords don’t die. Not normally. When they get mortally wounded, their body repairs itself. They change their face and personality, but they’re still alive! I’ve never seen one myself, but I’ve heard of it. Time Lords get twelve regeneration cycles. The Doctor I met was the Third incarnation.”
“My Doctor once told me he was the Tenth Doctor. He never explained what that meant. Hold on, how do you know him?”
“I travelled with him, too, back in the 70’s. We had the greatest adventures, that mad man and I. I met him when I hired into UNIT.”
“I used to work for UNIT.”
“Yes!”
Before Martha could say anything, the woman enveloped her in a surprisingly tight hug for a woman who had to be in her sixties.
“Oh, you beautiful girl!”
Martha couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name…?”
“Right, sorry!” the woman giggled. “Always was a bit thick, me. I’m Jo Grant. Well, Jo Jones now.”
“Jo Grant! I remember hearing about you when I worked at UNIT! You’re a legend!”
Jo blushed. “Hardly, my dear. I’m afraid I was never very good at all that, but I did know how to make a good cup of tea.”
Martha grinned. “I can’t believe I’m meeting you!”
“Oh, pish.”
“Martha chewed her lip. “Wait, you said a Time Lord gets twelve regeneration cycles, yeah?”
Jo shrugged. “Typically, yes.”
“So, if my Doctor was the Tenth Doctor, that means he’s out there somewhere!”
“We can hope!”
“Wait til I tell Mickey. We’ve been worried sick!”
“Mickey?”
“My husband.”
“Oh, that’s right! Silly me.”
Martha tucked the gun back in her rucksack. “Listen, it was really great to meet you, Jo. I’ve got to go find Mickey, tell him the news.”
“Of course, love.”
Martha gave her a quick hug and started walking away.
“Oh, wait, Martha!” Jo called. “Stay in touch, will you?”
“What’s your number?”
“I haven’t got a phone.”
“Where do you live?”
“The world is my home.
“Mine, too. Listen,” Martha walked back over and scribbled an address on a piece of paper she’d taken out of her pocket, “this my parents’ house. If you ever need to get in touch with me, send me a letter there. “
“I sure will, sweetheart.”
“Okay.” Martha smiled warmly and started off again.
“Oh, and Martha!” Jo yelled after her. Martha turned back. “If you see the Doctor, give him my love, will you?”
“I will!” Martha promised.
Jo watched Martha disappear back into the darkness. She couldn’t fight the grin that crept across her face. The Doctor was still out there, travelling through time and space, righting wrongs and saving lives. Who knew? Maybe their paths would cross again….
Laughing jovially, Jo turned and headed back to the village.