Astrophysics in Action

Post Doomsday. What if the Doctor had a different companion? Say… Samantha Carter? Crossover with Stargate: SG-1

Samantha Jean Carter felt, for once in her life, like a complete failure. She wasn't usually one to lose herself in a bottle, but the feeling of complete and utter rejection had gotten too much for her. She'd been working on the Stargate program for the better part of two years, yet it had not been her who got it working. "An archaeologist," she muttered in disgust. "A bloody archaeologist."

"Here, here," said the man next to her, blown hair flapping on his forehead as he reached for a shot and downed it. "I'm a time traveller. I point and laugh at archaeologists."

Sam gave the (obviously drunk) Englishman a look of bemusement. He downed another shot.

Despite her own problems, and the five empty shot glasses that sat in front of her, she was concerned. "Are you alright?"

The man nodded. "Rose is gone," he said, as if this explained everything. "She was fantastic, she was here, now she's gone…I never told her I loved her," tears sparkled in his eyes, and Sam comfortingly patted his back, deducing that this 'Rose' was dead.

"I'm sure she knew," she said soothingly.

The man didn't respond to that, staring off into the distance. "All of time and space…" he mumbled under his breath, then shook himself.

"What about you?" he asked her, and she looked back, startled.

"What about me?"

The man tilted his head toward the many empty glasses in front of her. "Something's eating you,"

Sam sighed, not quite sure why she was about to spill her innermost thoughts to this man, but drawing breath into her mouth and changing it to words nonetheless. "Ever since I was a little girl and I could see the stars, I've wanted to see them even closer. Go to them, visit them. My Dad's in the Air Force, so joined up too. It's the quickest way to NASA, you know. Anyway, long story short, there was this mission that I should have been on—it should have been me! I'm the one who worked out how to program the damn thing, but no! A damn archaeologist does a stupid translation and I get sent back home and blow my chances of ever seeing to stars." She laughed into her drink, a singular tear tracking down her face. "It's all I've ever wanted to do, and I get set aside for an archaeologist who would probably be happier digging up ancient artefacts from Egypt."

The man nodded, sympathetic, and with horror Sam realised that she didn't even know his name, and she'd almost babbled classified information to him. She covered her mouth with her hand, then lowering it, blurted this last thought out mindlessly.

The man shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I'm not going to tell anyone, and it's not like you've told me your name either. I go by the Doctor."

"Sam Carter. Just the Doctor?" the fog that the alcohol had created in her mind allowed her to accept his passive nod.

Suddenly, the Doctor grinned maniacally. "So, Sam Carter, do you still want to see the stars?"

Sam nodded. "I'd give anything."

He grabbed her hand and led her out of the bar, and she allowed him. Her mind sent up warning signals when he began to lead her into a deserted alleyway, but the alcohol allowed her to go along with it anyway. There, in the middle of the alleyway, looking so out of place but so right, was a blue box, similar to a phone booth, that proudly proclaimed itself POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX. She had a vague recollection of seeing one on television at some point, remembered that they were from England, and wondered absently what an English phone booth was doing in an American alleyway. "This is the TARDIS. That stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. She's the last of her kind."

Sam stared at him incredulously. "You expect me to believe that this box is both a time machine and a spacecraft?"

The Doctor beamed at her. "Oh, she's very good this one, very smart. I like her." she couldn't quite ascertain who he was talking to, but she was sure it wasn't her. "That's exactly what I expect you to believe, Sam Carter. So what do you say? You missed out on your one trip to the stars - I'll take you. Just one trip, mind. You missed one, you get one."

Sam laughed. "You're nuts. I suppose you'll tell me you're an alien next,"

"Well I am," the Doctor said. "I've got two hearts and everything, if you don't believe me. Binary circulatory system." he paused, seeing her disbelieving gaze. "Here, feel!" he insisted suddenly, grabbing her hand and bringing it up to his chest.

Warily, she left it there for a moment, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat. Then he moved her hand to the other side of his chest and she breathed a sigh of awe. "Holy Hannah!" she exclaimed.

He smiled, seeing that she was beginning to believe him. "Open the door," he instructed.

Sam reached for the handle and pulled it open, gaping in amazement at what she saw inside. "Holy Hannah, it's trans dimensional!" she exclaimed.

The Doctor grinned widely. "So, Sam Carter, what will it be?" he left the offer dangling openly in the air.

"There is no way I am passing up this chance," Sam expressed enthusiastically. "Only, maybe we could do it when I'm sober. I'd kinda like to remember it."

The Doctor shrugged. "That's reasonable, I suppose. Come in, I'll show you your room, and tomorrow, when you're sober, we'll take a trip to the stars." he still wasn't quite sure why he'd invited her—most of his companions proved themselves first—but still, he mused, on trip couldn't hurt.

When Sam awoke the next morning, she had an enormous headache and the sinking feeling that she'd done something incredibly stupid the night before, but she couldn't for the life of her recall exactly what. After a few seconds, she groaned: confirmation of her stupidity came when she realised that she was in an unfamiliar bed. Still, she was fully clothed, so that had to count for something—perhaps she hadn't been as stupid as she had first imagined. She attempted to cast her mind back, and vaguely remembered something about time travel, stars and aliens. Dismissing it as a dream, she moaned again. "I need an aspirin."

She stumbled from the bed, deciding that it was time to see whose house she had crashed last night, and whether she could get any explanation of what actually happened last night. Leaving she bedroom, she found herself in a long, winding corridor. "Hello?" she called warily, unsure which direction she should head in.

Suddenly, a man popped up from behind her. "Hello! You're up, I see. Have you thought about where you'd like to go, at all?"

Sam squinted at him. "Do you have any aspirin?"

"Oh, you've got a hangover. No aspirin, I'm afraid, I'm deathly allergic, even surpasses regeneration, and that would be great waste of three perfectly good lives. No, I don't even keep the stuff on board. I might have some paracetamol, or ibuprofen, though. Or, you could just take this." he offered her a small white pill.

"What is it?" she asked, regarding it warily.

"Nothing to worry about, just a generic painkiller, from the 43rd century. Perfectly safe, fast acting." he held out a glass of water. Sam hesitated for a moment, before seizing both the pill and the water, downing both quickly. Her headache instantly cleared, and her memories of the night before brightened, though they still remained a bit fuzzy.

"You're an alien," she stated and the Doctor nodded.

"This is a spaceship and a time machine." another nod.

"You're taking me on one trip?"

"Exact-a-mento!" he exclaimed enthusiastically, then frowned. "Another word that I will never use again. Any ideas about where you want to go?"

Sam shrugged. "No idea. It's not like I've ever left Earth before. You're the expert, take me somewhere amazing."

"Amazing, huh," the Doctor mused, pausing momentarily. "How about New Earth?"

"New Earth?" Sam queried in wonder.

The Doctor nodded. "New New York in New Earth—the future of the human race. Apple grass, flying cars and cat nuns."

Sam shrugged. "Sounds good to me,"

By this time they had made their way into the control room. Now, the Doctor was pulling various levers this way and that, pressing buttons and generally fiddling with the controls in a way that looked far too chaotic to actually work, but sure enough, seconds later a large whooshing sound began to emanate and something began moving up and down in the centre column. Seeing her looking, the Doctor began to explain. "That's the time rotor. The TARDIS is alive, it's an organic structure,"

Sam nodded in comprehension. "I might have known. The sheer amounts of energy required to maintain a constant dimensional fluctuation, stabilize and control a wormhole, not to mention travel in time would just be too incredible for a manmade structure, no matter how good it is. Organic structures are always so much more efficient. I assume it runs on energy naturally drawn from a rift of some sort, where the space-time continuum isn't quite as stable as it should be?"

The Doctor grinned at this impromptu spurt of technobabble. "Oh, I do like you," he affirmed enthusiastically as the time rotor stopped moving, signalling that their journey was complete. "Now then, year five billion and fifty-three, planet New Earth! Second hope of mankind! Fifty thousand light years from your old world, and we're slap bang in the middle of New New York. Although, technically it's the fifteenth New York from the original, so it's New New New New New New New New New New New New New New New York. One of the most dazzling cities ever built."

The Doctor opened the door with a flourish as he pulled on his overcoat, and stood back to let Sam admire.

Her face fell.

"You asshole!" she swore. "I can't believe I believed you!" she was furious, deep disappointment sinking in her chest as she stared into a grotty alleyway. Rain was pouring down

The Doctor peered out, and frowned. "Oh. It seems that I've made a small error piloting," he reached for her hand, pulling her out of the TARDIS. "Come on, I'm sure we can find something interesting."

Sam made a disbelieving noise in the back of her throat. "I'm yet to see anything to indicate that this is anything other than Old Earth," she commented darkly as she followed to Doctor through a junk ridden street, past giant dumpsters and old laundry that hung on the line, slowly getting more and more drenched as the rain continued, creating pools of mud at their feet.

"Hold on, hold on. Let's have a look," from his coat pocket he pulled what looked a bit like a jerry rigged mag lite from his pocket, and pointed it at a dead screen he had spotted on a wall. Pressing a button, it began to emit a humming noise and blue light, accompanied by the sudden appearance of static on the screen. Giving up with the device, he replaced in his coat and banged the screen. It flickered to life, an image of a blonde woman flickering into view. It was a news report, Sam deduced as the woman finished her sentence. "and the driving should be clear and easy, with fifteen extra lanes open for the New New Jersey expressway." The image on the screen shifted to reveal the unfamiliar skyline of a gorgeous spired city resting on the coast of a large river, flying vehicles zipping through the air. Sam couldn't help but let out a gasp of awed amazement at the sight of it, her disbelief being firmly ditched to the back of her mind.

"That's more like it!" the Doctor exclaimed, oblivious to her awed reaction. "That's the New we had last time. This must be the lower levels. Down in the base of the tower, some sort of under-city."

"So… this is the slums?" Sam asked incredulous, but still happy.

"Much more interesting! It's all cocktails and glitter up there. This is the real city."

Sam laughed at his enthusiasm. "Alright then, Doctor. Show me the real city.

The Doctor was only to pleased to oblige, his good mood only improving by the now ceasing rain. As they continued walking, a man suddenly flipped open the top of a large green box, revealing a street vendors cart. As if catalysed by the first, many others did the same, appearing and shouting out their wares, vying for attention.

"Oh! You should have said. How long you been there? Happy! You want Happy!" shouted one.

Another interrupted. "Customers! Customers! We've got customers!"

A third cut her off, their voices competing for attention. "We're in business! Mother, open up the Mellow, and the Read!"

"Happy, Happy, lovely happy Happy!" - "Anger! Buy some Anger!" - "Get some Mellow, makes you feel all bendy and soft all day long!" - "Younger, them. They'll rip you off. Do you want some happy?"

Sam frowned. "Not for me. Doctor, are they seeling drugs?"

"Moods," the Doctor corrected sadly.

Sam laughed hollowly, nodding. They observed for a few minutes more, watching the alley fill with bedraggled sad and ill looking types, some of whom bought the drugs that the vendors were so eagerly offering. "So that's the human race five billion years in the future. Drugged up to the eyeballs."

With her words, two figures sprung up from behind her, carrying guns and dressed in dark clothing. One man grabbed her from behind, and her air force instincts and adrenaline kicked in. He attempted to throw an arm around her neck to drag her off, but she wriggled out of his grasp, kicking out underneath his legs and flooring him. His accomplice shoved a gun to her back, but Sam rolled her eyes and ripped it from her hands. "It's not even real!" she exclaimed with disgust, throwing it to the side.

The Doctor quickly rushed to Sam's aid, but neither of them noticed that the man had managed to get up. "Plan B," he whispered to his accomplice, and both of them simultaneously felt their necks being slapped and dropped unconscious to the ground.

When Sam awoke, she was lying in the alleyway, not having been moved at all. Cursing, but not wanting to make her way back to the TARDIS and give up yet - after all, the Doctor was her only lift home - she went back to the pharmacists and began to interrogate them about why they would have taken the Doctor.

At the same time, the Doctor was awakening in a vehicle, accompanied by the two kidnappers. In the front there was a blue screen showing a small line with "4-6-5-diamond-6" above it, presumably where he now was. The line was moving from Level 17 at the top of the screen on downward, edging closer to Level 21 at the bottom of the screen. He was surrounded by containers of pills and liquid, and the voices of his kidnappers were rumbling in the background. "Well, that's new." he said to himself. "Usually the companion's the one who wanders off and gets kidnapped." he reached for the token on his neck, and ripped it off, frowning in annoyance.

"So, who are you?" he questioned loudly, interrupting his captors conversation.

"Well, I'm Cheen, and this is Milo. And I swear we're sorry. We're really, really sorry. We just needed access to the fast line, but I promise, as soon as we arrive, we'll drop you off and you can go back and find your friend."

The Doctor didn't look any happier for the answer. "Yeah, about that, why me? You went for Sam first—so why'd you take me and not her? Not that I'm not glad you left her alone, but I've got to wonder."

"Well, she did put up a fight. And she knew our guns were fake. So we were thinking, that maybe she was in the police or something. And kidnapping is a crime, you know."

The Doctor was still entirely unsatisfied. He began to question them further, discovering that they were pregnant and that they were trying to get to Brooklyn, that the fog was exhaust fumes, that it was only ten miles away, and oh, that it was going to take six years. The Doctor was incredulous. "You have got to be kidding me. Six years? Why don't you just walk? Or get a bicycle? Bicycles are good—you don't even have to worry about traffic jams, there's no pollution and yu go faster than walking. What's not to love? Come to think of it though, it's been a long time since I've used one myself. Ah, well, when you've got a TARDIS, any other form of transport seems inferior."

As the Doctor rambled, Cheen rolled her eyes at Milo. "We should have picked someone quieter."

"Hey!" the Doctor interrupted, affronted. "I'll have you know that I was the very best person you could have picked to come along."

"Oh, and why's that?" Milo asked dryly.

The Doctor stood up, "Only that there's something very not right about all of this, and that I am going to fix it."

"Oh great, he's delusional too," Cheen snarked. "Just remember Milo, this was your great idea. I voted for the blonde."

Sam had headed back to the TARDIS in search of something that could help her to find the Doctor. The pharmacists had warned her that the air in the motorway would suffocate her in seconds flat if she went there as she was, so she was eager to avoid that possibility. She had just reached to door when she was interrupted by the appearance of a woman who looked like a cat. Surprised and confused, Sam could only stare.

"The Doctor," the cat growled, it's voice revealing it to be female. "Where is he?"

She was wearing a habit and carrying a gun the glowed green. Sam realised with a jolt that this must be on of the cat nuns that the Doctor had briefly mentioned.

"As far as I can tell, he's on the motorway. I've got to save him." Sam informed her.

The nun nodded sharply. "You've got to come with me. Then I'll go find the Doctor." She grabbed her wrist, and pressed a button on her green lit metal wristband, and intoned "Transport." Both of them vanished in a flash of white light, arriving in a large and dilapidated room. There was dust and junk everywhere. Sam sat on the floor, rubbing her bottom where she'd landed. Before Sam could get out a word, the cat nun had vanished, leaving Sam alone in the room. Except for… she suddenly noticed a giant head in a jar and let out a yelp of surprise. Once Sam had overcome her shock, she spoke to the head.

"Why am I here? What's happened?"

The giant head spoke, tiredly, slowly. "This is the Senate of New New York."

Sam looked around, and in alarm noticed that she was in a vast chamber comprising long rows of seats. In the seats were skeletons. Suddenly, Sam's trip to the future took on an even more sinister light. First, there'd been an attempted kidnapping. Now, a dead senate. A deep sense of horror filled her. "Holy Hannah, what happened to them?"

"Bliss," the giant head responded breathily. "It took seven minutes to destroy the world, twenty four years ago."

Sensing that the giant head didn't have enough energy to explain much further, Sam wandered around the chamber, searching for evidence. She knelt down, spotting a circular token with a half moon, just like the ones that the vendors had attempted to sell her earlier, like the sleep patch that had been placed on her neck.

"A deadly virus was in this drug," she hypothesised. "It quickly became airborne. All living things died, and after a while, so did the virus. But the walkways, the flyovers and the motorway—there's still living people there. They must have closed them down. Now that the danger's over, why haven't you reopened them?"

"Power." came the one word, strained response. The massive head in a jar was clearly reaching the end of its life, and Sam couldn't help but feel sad, even having known the thing for barely two minutes, it felt much longer.

Sam began to inspect what appeared to be the mainframe. "You've wired yourself to it!" she exclaimed in surprise. "The system is feeding off your life force." she inspected closer.

"I can probably get the residual energy, invert it and feed it through the electricity beds." she gnawed her lip in concentration, "but how?"

She began to survey the system, occasionally questioning the giant head about the function of a certain thing, receiving a mere nod as an answer. After having completely reviewed the system, she figured out how it was related to systems she recognised. Suddenly inspired, she hurriedly began to switch all the switched on the bank up to maximum, and once that was completed she rushed to a knob on the floor, rotating it. She flipped an enormous switch on the floor, and fell back in dismay as all the lights went out.

"The transformers must be blocked, any signal I give won't get through."

At that precise moment, the Doctor and the cat nun reappeared in a flash, the Doctor protesting wildly. "Oh! Rough teleport, Novice Hame. But you can go straight back down and teleport other people out, starting with Cheen and Milo. Oh, hello Sam. I see you got here. Actually, where is here?" he asked, looking around, no longer concerned with Hame's protests that she only had enough energy for the one trip.

"This is the Senate, Doctor," Sam said wearily.

At this point, Novice Hame took over the explanations, telling the Doctor all that Sam had surmised. The Doctor seemed devastated, before he rounded on Sam—grinning maniacally, as always—and began to interrogate her about what she'd done to the system.

Sam began to explain, indicating the giant head. The Doctor beamed happily. "The Face of Boe!" he exclaimed, and Sam mused to herself that the name was oddly apt.

"I knew you would come," came the Face's low, rumbling tones.

Novice Hame stepped in to explain. "Back in the old days, I was made his nurse, as penance for my sins. He's dying, now. He protected me from the virus by shrouding me in his smoke. But with no one to maintain it, the city's power died. The under city would have fallen into the sea. As your friend worked out, he's wired himself to the mainframe. He's giving his life force just to keep things running."

The Doctor shook his head, bewildered. "But there are planets out there. You could have called for help!"

"The last act of the Senate was to declare New Earth unsafe. The automatic quarantine lasts for one hundred years." explained Hame.

The Doctor nodded, sad and concerned. "So the two of you stayed here, on your own, for all these years."

"We had no choice." Novice Hame said resolutely.

The Doctor reached for her, touched her shoulder. "Yes, you did." A moment's quiet contemplation passed, before the Doctor began to inspect Sam's work, marvelling at her ability.

"Doctor," rasped the Face of Boe.

"Hold on, not now," he said, and instructed Sam to go turn a wheel near the Face of Boe.

"I give you my last," the giant face let out a long grinding breath, and all the consoles switched back on. The Doctor leapt up, illuminated.

"Hame, Look after him!" he instructed sharply as he turned to the enormous switch Sam had flicked earlier."Don't go dying on me, you big old fac. You've got to see this."

He flicked the switch, exclaiming, "The open road! Hah!

In the city, a gap was forming over the closed motorway. Above the hundreds of lanes of cars, the doors to the over city were opening, crashing and creaking as each barrier fell away.

As the last of the doors opened, leaving the tunnel completely open, the Doctor jerry rigged a system to make himself appear on the monitor of the screens in front of every car.

"Sorry, no Sally Calypso, she was just a hologram. My name's the Doctor," he began. "And this is an order. Everyone drive up. Right now. I've opened the roof of the motorway. Come on. Throttle those engines. Drive up. All of you, the whole under-city. Drive up, drive up, drive up! Fast! We've got to clear that fast lane. Drive up and get out of the way."

As the Doctor finished the transmission, seeing that Milo and Cheen had safely made their way out of the fast lane and away from the macra, the case that contained the Face of Boe began to crack, and the Doctor looked over to him, his face falling. Sam and Novice Hame were united at his side, realising that his end was near. He came to kneel in front of him, following Ham and Sam's lead.

"My lord gave his life to save the city," Novice Hame proclaimed, despairing. "And now he's dying."

"No, don't say that. Not old Boe. Plenty of life left." The Doctor denied.

"It's good to breathe the air once more. Everything has its time. You know that, old friend, better than most."

"They say that the Face of Boe will speak his final secret to a traveller." Noice Hame reminded him.

The Doctor was clawing at grief, even if he couldn't acknowledge it yet. "Yeah, but not yet. Who needs secrets, eh?"

"I have seen so much. Perhaps too much. I am the last of my kind — as you are the last of yours, Doctor."

The Doctor was absolutely desperate by this point. He didn't want this at all. "That's why we have to survive. Both of us. Don't go."

"I must. But know this, Time Lord. You are not alone."

Though before it had seemed as though the Doctor would weep, now he was astounded, he stared, uncomprehending, as the Face of Boe's eyes closed for the last time. Sam looked on with respect, tears for a person she had barely known springing from her eyes, and Novice Hame began to sob in earnest. Sam was the first to stand, and the Doctor got up after a moment to put an arm around her shoulders. Novice Hame was still sobbing bitterly on the ground, having lost what had been her only company for twenty four years.

They were back in the alley where Sam and the Doctor first met the pharmacists, the two travellers sauntered through again. It was deserted, all the shops having closed down. While on the screen, the Doctor had revealed what had happened to all the other people, and demanded that all such pharmacists closed down. Apparently, they had been scared enough and were all out of business.

"Happy?" Sam asked softly.

"Happy happy."

The Doctor inspected one of the empty booths. "New New York can start again. And they've got Novice Hame. Just what every city needs — cats in charge! Come on, time we were off."

He began to stroll away, but Sam stood still. "Doctor," she said quietly. "All of this… despite the happy ending, I can't help but wonder. Isn't it such a waste of life? And me! What do I do now? Go back home and pretend that I haven't seen this? That I haven't seen a world that was almost completely annihilated? I feel so helpless. Isn't there anything I can do?"

The Doctor walked back to her, putting his arm around her shoulder. "Sam, what you did today, how you fixed the power—you didn't even need me! If I hadn't arrived, you would have saved all those people, just you and the Face of Boe. And you're wondering what you can do! Saving the world. Now that's nothing short of brilliant." He paused, as if deciding whether to tell her something.

"I've got ghosts in my past. I'm not always pleasant to be around. The Face of Boe… you heard him. I'm the last of my kind.

I'm not just a Time Lord. I'm the last of the Time Lords. I don't know what he meant by 'you are not alone,' but he was wrong. There's no one else."

Sam stared for a moment, trying to imagine the horror. "What happened?"

"There was a war. My people fought a race called the Daleks, for the sake of all creation. And they lost. They lost. Everyone lost. They're all gone now. My family, my friends, my planet. But you know what, Sam Carter?"

Sam shook her head, a lump in her throat. "That doesn't happen to humans. The most resilient species in all of space time. You saved the world, your future, today, and you're needed in your present."

Sam was feeling much better about herself when she and the Doctor walked back into the TARDIS.

A/N: I know it's not brilliant. Keep in mind that it is my first Doctor Who fic, (because that other little thing doesn't really count) and my first Stargate fic. Also, I'm taking suggestions for titles, because this one just sucks. Also, should this be a oneshot or should I continue it? Thanks a bunch for reading.