A Long Long Time Ago in a Galaxy More or Less Right Here - ?.???

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Captain Cirrsseeto Raurrssatta, of the glorified space taxi Novgorod.

He grimaced, shifting in his captain's seat. Okay, that wasn't exactly fair, but it did seem that ferrying people from point A to point B was becoming the standard operating procedure for his well-equipped corvette. And yes, having certain attributes like being faster than nearly anything chasing you and being very hard to detect did lend themselves to getting people into places or from places they ought not to be. Still, wasn't there a war on? Even that thought gave Cirrsseeto pause. Was he looking for a fight? Spoiling for one? That thought didn't sit well one bit. There used to be a time when he was damn near a pacifist.

Knocking the cobwebs of his own doubts and ennui out of his brain, the Captain sat up a bit, looking at the viewer nearest his seat. Bothauwi was close at least. Thirty minutes out, and half of that cruising into system on sublight. Then they'd land, refuel, and offload their passengers. Namely two of them. Abarai Loki - sent from the Wheel to investigate a recent purported Jedi attack, and his mother, Taataani Meorrrei, no-doubt here to take advantage of the calamity caused by the Imperial attack on Sullust. He'd asked what exactly she was doing, but she was predictably coy. He was too tired to press further, and as long as it didn't land him in a courts martial, it was probably harmless.

Also, he'd managed the entire trip without the two of them somehow destroying the ship. They got along well enough, but Cirrsseeto knew them both way better than what good manners let on. They were matter and antimatter, and he only had a hundred marines to keep them apart if something did happen, hence why it paid to expedite the trip.

Twenty-five minutes out now. Cirrsseeto nervously looked about. Nothing exploding yet. They were going to make it!

And that's when the sensors started going...weird.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki was in his quarters, reading. Nimble fingers danced dilligently over the datapad, scrolling through article after article. He'd been at it for some time and now, deflating with a sigh, he abandoned his educational pursuit. It was no use. He was never going to be able to contradict Taataani Meorrrei at this rate, for everything she had alluded to regarding Bothans seemed to be accurate. And if his studies and the word-of-mouth were anything to go by, then the entire Bothan race was nothing short of a contemptible shower of self-serving back-stabbing opportunists who dealt in double-speak and deceit. During one of their less-stilted encounters, the Cizerack matron had offered to act as a buffer between Loki and the sort of political ego-stroking and bureaucracy that left him so inflamed. Normally, the very thought of humouring such an inconcieveable partnership was enough to bring him out in hives, however, in this instance he feared it was a neccessary evil to facilitate, even expedite, his own duplicitous dealings.

There was no Jedi attack. The entire story was a ruse invented by Alliance Intelligence to provide them an excuse to send a Jedi to Bothawui. Loki's real objective was to make contact with an information broker who claimed to have in his posession the identities and whereabouts of a number of potential Force-sensitive recruits. Alliance Intelligence wanted the deal shrouded in secrecy to prevent the more paranoid quarter of bureaucrats from becoming alarmed or even protesting their involvement with a species of such questionable veracity. And, in the light of recent revelations, Loki was inclined to agree with them. Still, a mission was a mission, and he welcomed the opportunity to escape the monotony of a greyscale existence of corridors and rooms in space. A new world awaited and he was ready to stretch his legs.

But something wasn't right. Uncommon though it was for his Jedi senses to haunt him with that soothsayer brand of foreboding, they were presently screaming, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood, electrified. Something wasn't right at all. In an instant he was off his bunk and out the door, winding his way towards the bridge where, already, the klaxons sounded.

[Taataani Meorrrei]

The shrill of the alarm hammered deeply into Rrou'fai Taataani Meorrrei's ears, and she pressed them flush to her head with the palms of her hands as she clomped down the hallway in heels that were not well suited for...clomping. With a snap of an irritated tail she looked around at the crewers passing her, all with a sudden sense of unease to them. Were they under attack? The ship hadn't bucked, lights hadn't flickered, and nothing had sparked or was on fire. So then what was the fuss?

When your son is Captain of the ship, and you are the Baroness of one of the most powerful corporations in the Carshoulis Cluster, you don't leave such foibles and ambiguities to chance. You deal with them at the source. That's why she was on her way to the bridge. This wasn't an attack on the Death Star. It was a blue milk run to Bothawui for Sanjaarra's sake!

Ahead were two double doors, and beyond that, the bridge. She watched as young Abarai Loki disappeared through the doorway, no-doubt unsettled by some unknowable Jedi sense of foreboding. Accelerating to catch up, she was nearly to the doorway when the ship lurched...violently.

Careening forward, Taataani Meorrrei tumbled with her inertia, rolling and skidding along the deck, and through the doors that opened before her, depositing her onto the bridge as rudely as possible.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"...gravity well is danger close!"

Captain Raurrssatta didn't need to know exactly what sparked behind him as the inertial dampener screamed to bleed off their residual sublight velocity. The planet before them had wrenched them out of hyperspace, and all engines thundered in reverse to equalize their momentum, lest they break apart and burn into cinders in its atmosphere.

"We're gonna lose the entire sublight drive if we don't shut down! She's beyond the redline!"

Ears switched back, Cirrsseeto fumbled to secure his crash webbing, and his bridge crew did the same. Some weren't so lucky, and they skidded to the front of the bridge in a scrum.

"Don't you thjink jI know that? jI'm an engjineerr, Goddess-dammjit!"

A fire broke out in earnest, as no-telling what kind of feedback loops worked their way through engineering, wreaking havoc. The engines were going to get slagged if they couldn't bleed off the momentum some other way.

"Sajine! Adjust courrsse fjifteen degrrees starrboarrd. Let's hope we just skjip off the atmospherre..."

Still an aggressive angle, Novgorod hurtled ahead at the blue and white planet. Igniting atmosphere splashed angry red swathes across their shielding, intensifying greatly as they continued ahead.

Grim-faced, Cirrsseeto dug in literally, his claws digging into his armrests.

"Brrace forr morre jimpact!"

The ship lurched and thundered violently as Novgorod continued on a course that would hopefully create enough atmospheric resistance to throw them free from the planet's gravity. Shields continued to sap. 80%...51%...35%....

...and then in one tremendous quake, all was still. Novgorod drifted in low orbit, but a stable orbit. The engines dimmed, and main power blinked out, replaced in a heartbeat by auxiliary reserves.

On the bridge, in a haze of orange light and ozone-rich smoke that was quickly being scrubbed by air vents, everyone moved to find their bearings. Cirrsseeto wearily unclipped his crash webbing, and now that the urgency of the moment passed, he was finally able to confront the dilemma staring him in the face.

"Therre shouldn't be a planet herre. How jis that possjible."

[Abarai Loki]

When the Novgorod lurched for the first time, Loki took flight with the rest of the unfastened crew, he sailed high over Captain Raurrssatta, and then, with all the feline grace of the Jedi Knight, sommersaulted and landed on his feet. He gave Cirrsseeto a nod. The second jolt knocked him on his ass. The ship rumbled deep in its durasteel bones, the sirens wailed, there was a blinding flash and a shower of sparks, and finally, silence. The ship was still. Loki rose, wafting off a slither of noxious fumes snaking from the console husk, and approached Cirrsseeto. All around there was a renewed fever of activity, little of which made any sense to the young Jedi, and no sooner had he opened his mouth to speak when he noticed a tangle of gaudily-fashioned limbs on the floor.

Grudges shunned, he dashed over to the fabulous mess, only to slow in fear of impaling himself upon a pair of scimitar heels. Cautiously, he hovered, inspecting the crash site to discern exactly where his rescue operation was to begin.

"Taataani Meorrrei," he managed at last, "Are you... conscious?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"Uggghhh...brrujissed and batterred jin bodjy and ego aljike!"

Scrabbling to right herself, pausing only to kick off her useless shoes in frustration - and frantically make sure her wig was properly righted. A slightly frantic glance at Loki confirmed that all was more-or-less well, and she rose to her feet, groaning and rubbing her back.

"All jI assked wass to be on a sshjip that could fljy jin a sstrrajight ljine! Rrealljy that'ss not sso harrd!"

She spoke to no one in particular but really to her son. Hands on her hips, she inspected a ruined heel and kicked it away disdainfully. She looked up at the viewer, and at the planet before them.

"That's not Bothawuji. What, we can't even get to the rrjight planet?!"

She turned around and looked to Cirrsseeto, who's face was strangely inscrutable. Everyone's eyes were fixed on the viewer. On the planet. The planet that everyone else knew full-well should not be there.

The Matron's ears twitched.

"Abarraji?"

When all sensible thoughts were discarded, Taataani quickly surmised that the best option was to ask a Jedi.

[Abarai Loki]

The unspoken request resulted in an instant frown. Regardless of whatever woolly practises in which his peers indulged, Loki understood that, first and foremost, a Jedi Knight was a warrior. The whimsical assumption that he was prepared to play the role of a glorified fortune-teller at a moment's notice was an insult to his warrior sensibilities. His arms locked across his chest and he gave the alien world no more than a cursory glance. Taataani was right, it was certainly not Bothawui.

"This is not the Both system," he began, the matron looked unimpressed, "I do not recognise that planet but I can tell you it is completely uninhabited."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Actually..."

Lieutenant Mallin blinked the incredulity from his eyes, checking and re-checking his systems. It should be a trick of his eyes, it should be...

"...there are. It isn't though. Um."

Stammering, he blotted perspiration off his brow as he looked at Captain Raurrssatta and his crew.

"Bothauwi. It isn't Bothauwi."

The looks Mallin got from the gallery made it clear that he was stating the painfully obvious. Coughing a bit, he continued.

"What I mean is...Bothauwi is....I don't even know. I don't even..."

Cirrsseeto decided to get the news direct from the source, and bounded over to Mallin's station. One glance at the starchart warranted another. And another.

"Therre's no analogue jin the starr charrt forr thjis planet. No grrjid coorrdjinates. No rreferrence."

The felinoid's fingers flew over the keys.

"And jI can't even fjind Bothauwji."

Cirrsseeto's blue eyes turned again to the planet in front of them.

"Wherreverr we arre, Abarraji, sensorrs arre pjickjing up mjilljions of ljives. Hundrreds of mjilljions. Human."

Cirr's tail flicked. A question was on the tip of his tongue, but before he could ask...

"Captain! We've got an intruder alert! Cargo hold!"

[Abarai Loki]

"That isn't possible," Loki was quick on the defensive, snapping a wary glance at Taataani as he swept past, "Your sensors are mal-"

Now the klaxons sounded in earnest, howling throughout the ship. The case of the mystery planet could wait, Loki thought, as he raced from the bridge. Groping for the familiar comfort of his lightsaber, he found himself at the head of a growing pack of armed troops, and even in that moment of uncertainty, he thrilled at the aggressive, uniform crunch of boots that followed him to the cargo hold. The moment the hefty doors parted, his weapon ignited with a venomous hiss, and he charged inside. There was a piercing screech as he came to a halt, and even as the soldiers formed a perimeter, he stood, frozen by the sight that greeted him.

[Eleven]

“This isn't what it looks like.”

The 'intruder' was holding up both hands in what was the (almost) universally understood gesture for stop.

In one hand, he held a slim device that didn't look entirely dissimilar to the hilt of the glowing sword brandished by Abarai Loki.

“Unless it looks like a box has just materialised inside your spaceship. In which case I suppose it's exactly what it looks like.

Sort of. Unless your spaceship materialised around my spaceship- box! Space... box.

Right! So, let's all just agree that I was here first and you lot can get started on explaining what's going on here. You know, after one of you turns off those sirens.”

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"What?"

Captain Raurrssatta took a tentative step forward, the absurdity of the moment absolutely overriding immediate concerns of danger. He had what looked like a lightsaber, but for the present, that was strangely not at the forefront of his mind.

Materializing ships? Materializing blue boxes? Made of...

"Wood?"

A claw scrape against the side of the strange box confirmed that one. Cirr's tail twitched. His ears twitched. His mouth gaped.

"Space shjips don't materrjialjize!? And they arren't made of wood!"

[Abarai Loki]

Loki scowled. The Novgorod had just been boarded and Cirrsseeto was spouting a load of inconsequential guff about wooden spaceships. Finding the captain's conduct decidedly uncaptainly, he took matters into his own hands. The tip of his raised weapon cast the intruder's features into sharp relief, he had a gargantuan chin. In his hand there was what looked like a miniature lightsaber. The young Jedi narrowed his eyes in suspicion, and addressed the stranger with deathly import:

"You are intruding upon-"

It was impossible. The stranger had a point about the alarm, it was obnoxiously loud. He tried again, this time sacrificing a little dignity to shout over the siren's wail.

"You are intruding upon a military ship. Drop the weapon!"

[Eleven]

"Wood?"

A claw scrape against the side of the strange box confirmed that one. Cirr's tail twitched. His ears twitched. His mouth gaped.

"Space shjips don't materrjialjize!? And they arren't made of wood!"

“Who says they aren't?!” he asked, with a frown that grew more wrinkled by the second.

He took a step to the left, placing himself directly between the box and the felinoid apparently intent on using it as a scratching post.


"You are intruding upon-"

It was impossible. The stranger had a point about the alarm, it was obnoxiously loud. He tried again, this time sacrificing a little dignity to shout over the siren's wail.

"You are intruding upon a military ship. Drop the weapon!"

Even beneath the howl of the klaxons, the boy's voice carried like the bark of a particularly agitated Yorkshire terrier. The Doctor couldn't fail to hear it. He simply chose to ignore it.

“Is he always like that??”

[Rory Williams]

Once again the wooden doorway creaked open, a tantalising glimpse of the interior shielded from view by the flowing red cape that hung from the shoulders of a severely anachronistic man, whose attention was clearly focused on the oh-so-important task of ensuring that the door was securely locked behind him, and that he didn't stab anything important-looking with his sword.

"Are you absolutely sure that the outfit is necessary?" he asked over his shoulder, as the deceptively mundane latch closed with an audible click. "I can't see how you expect an army of alien cyborgs to be intimidated by -"

As he turned, Rory's gaze swept across the the scene displayed before him, and his words failed, a look of abject and utter confusion sweeping across his agape expression in an instant. His jaw snapped shut and he forced himself to swallow, eyebrows twitching as his face tried to muster wide-eyed and frowning at the same time.

"That doesn't look like the Twelfth Cyber-Legion," came the statement of the obvious; but it allowed a brief glimmer of familiarity to grace his features, as he registered the scenario that had happened far too many times before. "The TARDIS landed us in the wrong place again, didn't she?"

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Who says they...what?"

The Captain was drawn inexorably to walk a circuit around the blue wooden 'space ship'. If, and oh goddess he was giving these insane people the benefit of the doubt, but if they were right, these two were traveling in the most intimate of ways. Their 'ship' was small by escape pod standards. Cramming two people in and joyriding about? No thank you.

Suddenly, he reached keen amounts of irritation that the others had also arrived at.

"Would somebody swjitch that damn alarrm off!"

His growled command was quickly met, and the klaxon died, leaving them with only the din of starship machinery working in the distance...well that and Loki's saber. He looked back to the Jedi.

"Let's not go djirrectly forr ljightsaberrs, no matterr how jimpossjible thjis all looks.

Rrjight, two costumed men trravelljing thrrough space jin a somehow-ajirtjight box made of wood...and appearrjing jin my shjip...orr my shjip appearrjing arround your...wooden...closet...starrshjip."

Cirr tugged at an ear tuft absent-mindedly.

"jIs that about jit?"

[Abarai Loki]

Such was his outrage at the flagrant disregard with which his authority was met, that Loki's face blossomed like a cherry tomato. It was everything in him not to verbally evicerate the odd-faced trespasser, or at the very least remove a limb or two, and as a result he was reduced to standing with his mouth agape, mirroring the expression of the... the armoured man. The course of his Jedi weapon shifted dramatically to greet this new threat, who had appeared from what seemed to be some sort of prehistoric turbolift. He was starting to sympathise with Cirrsseeto's confusion, but not his complacency, and while it hadn't in the strictest sense been a direct order, it pained him to disobey the captain's request. Troubled, he kept his weapon at the ready.

"But... Captain, he has brought a warrior."

[Eleven]

The Doctor whirled around to face his 'warrior' with a bemused look.

“Wrong? No, no. It's not wrong. Well, yes, it is,” his brow wrinkled again, “But it's not wrong that we're here. It's wrong that here is here.”

With barely a beat between his words, he spun to face the feline. Evidently, this was the being in charge of the vessel that the TARDIS had chosen to appear on board.

“Captain. Your ship. What does it tell you about this place? The surrounding space. The planets, the stars.”

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Abarraji, jit's a man jin a bowtjie and anotherr jin a skjirrt. jI thjink we have the hjigh grround at thjis pojint."

The Captain had to placate his Jedi guardian. Loki might not like it, but Cirr didn't require that he did. His eyes turned back to the strange traveler.

And he knew about that, too.

No sense in hiding the painfully obvious. Anyone with a week's worth of cartography training could tell that there was something very wrong with the stars, planets, and everything else.

Cirr's left ear flicked, his eyes moving from the curious traveller in tweed, his 'warrior', and back again.

"We'rre not surre. Nothjing matches ourr starr charrts. One mjinute we'rre on ourr way to Bothauwuji, and the next we get wrrenched out of hyperrspace by a planet's grravjity that should not be therre."

The Captain hoped talking about it out loud would unfurl some hidden string of truth from the yarn ball, but all that happened was that it served to frustrate him all over again.

"And now jI suppose you'rre gojing to tell me that's connected to yourr shjip materrjialji..."

Cirrsseeto paused mid-sentence, his tail jerking with frustration.

"...orr my shjip. Materrjialjizjing. Ejitherr way, sounds ljike you've got morre to say about that parrt.

[Eleven]

“Of course. I've got loads to say! Lots to talk about. Temporal and spatial anomalies, hyperspace, cat people, lightsabers-”

With a waggle of the sonic screwdriver, the Doctor mimicked the hum of Loki's blade.

Smiling from ear to ear, evidently rather pleased with himself, he glanced at Rory – and felt his excitement deflate as he was confronted with an expression that displayed all the enthusiasm and intellectual engagement of a particularly disinterested goldfish.

“All right. First things first. Captain, where's the nearest window? Let's go have a look at this mystery planet of yours!”

[Abarai Loki]

Loki extinguished his blade, wearing a look of the most reserved resignation, and holstered his Jedi weapon in time to see the intruder attempt, what was quite frankly, an offensive mimicry of it. His contempt bled out into a deepening scowl and his patience crumbled as the conversation went on, with both the captain and the intruder speeding onwards and saying much of nothing. And as Cirrsseeto was invited to a spot of star-gazing aboard his own ship, Loki felt himself approaching breaking point. What sort of scatter-brained security protocol was this, exactly?

The group approached a view port on the far side of the cargo hold. Loki fell into rank alongside the armoured man and speared him with a look that said, in no uncertain terms, try-it-and-you're-dead. But as they walked, Loki considered the warrior, scrutinising him from head to toe, and with a confident nod silently conlcuded that, even if he didn't go for his sword, he'd have him.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Hold on."

Cirrsseeto stepped between the mysterious bowtied interloper and the window. While not an overtly aggressive act, putting a six & a half foot tall felinoid in one's walking space tended to give pause to most people. The Captain looked back at Loki, who was obviously convinced that this farce had gone on long enough. He wasn't ready to toss the invaders out an airlock or skewer them, but they needed answers.

"jIt mjight be my fjirrst teleporrtjing, but that doesn't put any less fjine a pojint on the matterr. You'rre trrespassjing on an Alljiance warrshjip - my warrshjip, and Mjisterr Lokji's rrjight, jI'm norrmally not verry tolerrant of that."

The Cizerack officer glanced back to the man in strange armor.

"Who arre you two?"

[Eleven]

“I'm an undercover agent, of course! From the Alliance. Code name: the Doctor.”

With a flourish, the stranger produced a wallet containing an Alliance Intelligence security pass, featuring a picture of picture of him grinning ear to ear. Or perhaps it contained a blank, white rectangle of psychic paper. It was all a matter of perspective.

“And this is my associate, Agent Pond-” he went on, turning on his heels to regard Rory with a smile as he tucked the wallet back into the breast pocket of his jacket.

“James Pond.”

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

The Captain gave a glance down at the credentials, nodding over them to Loki. They were legit. Alliance Intelligence.

"Could've just sajid frrom the starrt..."

It was still the most bizarre of occurrences, showing up in this fashion. If this was Intel's idea of incognito, they probably needed to hone their tradecraft. Loki's body language relaxed - for Loki at least. That meant that they at least weren't about to have a rumble in his landing bay.

Following the Doctor's suggestion, he walked with the strangers to the nearest viewport. The planet below them was a swirling orb of blue and white, with splotches of brown and green earth visible beneath.

"Scan shows a sjizeable human populatjion, but my Jedji colleague herre says he can sense no ljife on the planet."

Something in the expression of the two Intel agents caused Cirr's ears to quirk. They were looking at the planet with a sense of familiarity that he didn't have.

"Wherre arre we?"

[Rory Williams]

Rory's eyes narrowed, his gut twisting with discomfort. This day was already taking a dramatic turn for the absurd: as per usual, the Doctor and the TARDIS had delivered him to exactly the wrong place; and now was about as far from an appropriate time to be idly chatting with fictional characters as it was possible to get. Sure, they travelled through time and space: but that was no excuse to dawdle.

Of all people, Rory mused grimly, I would have thought that Amy was more important than your curiosity, Doctor.

The Roman's gaze strayed to the Captain; for an idle moment he wondered which of the myriad rewrites and special editions had added such absurd cat people to the Star Wars universe. He certainly didn't remember them from his childhood, and surely he would have remembered something with ears like that.

"That planet is Earth," Rory answered, jerking his head towards the blue marble. "My homeworld."

A sinking feeling formed at the pit of his stomach; accusing eyes turned to the Time Lord. "Doctor, why is the Rebel Alliance in orbit of my homeworld?"

[Taataani Meorrrei]

"Earrth?"

The Matron at last made her way to the hangar, confident in her son and her Jedi protector's ability to keep the threat of intruders at bay.

"What a funnjy name forr a planet. Ssoundss made up."

Pausing beside Loki just long enough to make him visible bristle from her proximity, Taataani advanced on the two rebel agents in her own friendly but direct fashion.

"Cerrtajinljy not one jI'd know, and not anwherre nearr Bothauwuji, lasst jI checked."

Taataani looked Rory up and down and chewed at her bottom lip to stifle the expression of amusement at his attire. She walked past him, her tail slinking behind her to run along the Roman's bare calves. Honing in on the Doctor, she fixated on his bowtie.

"jI'm ssurre wjith jyou bejing Alljiance jIntelljigence, therre'ss a perrfectljy rreassonable - jyet classsjifjied - rreasson forr all of thjiss?