A Seventh Doctor/Ace story. by Clive May (clive@cj4386.demon.co.uk) ----------------------------------------------------------------------- The copy right of all things pertaining to the concept and characters of Dr Who is the property of the BBC. This story is a work of fan fiction; it has been written simply for the pleasure it gave me in writing it; and no money has or will change hands with respect to the story. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- The red streamers on the black helmet fluttered in a flower scented breeze. The faceplate was closed and blank; there were not even eye holes or a mouth slit. Despite this, the voice was clear. "With three little words, she destroyed my entire life's work. If she were not already dead, I would kill her again in the most agonising and undignified way I could devise for what she has done to me. Everything... I had everything within my grasp; I was on the verge of true greatness, total victory; and then she laid waste my dreams and ambitions, made a zero of my entire life, turned the sweet, sweet taste of victory to bitter gall which burns like acid upon my tongue - and all with three little words. She just stood there clothed in her formal robes of shimmering white, streaked with the soot of battle and the blood of her kin she had succoured in their moment of extremis, and looked calmly at my sword point aimed at her heart. The reeking breeze blowing over the battlefield made her two long pony tails of blond hair flutter like pennants. Then she looked around at the wasteland I had made of her lands, the heaped corpses of her loyal followers, and turned that awful gaze upon me. There was neither fear, nor condemnation for the destruction I had visited upon her Shining Kingdom in my ambition to rule this system of planets... Damnation! there was not even true reproach. No! there was just that expression of sad compassion shining wetly in the blue of her eyes... The expression that will be forever linked in my memory with those three words which have undone me so utterly. How can I enjoy the fruits of my conquest, the riches of my new found position as sole ruler of all that i survey now, when the bitch has spoilt it all so thoroughly? "I forgive you," she said. AAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHH! How could one with such a reputation for gentle sweetness and compassion b so cruel?" Ace stepped back over the activation line. The twice life-sized figure on the pedestal fell silent. Slowly, with a creaking of the metal joints of the gauntlets, the hands which had balled into fists of fury during the tirade relaxed. The only movement now was the fluttering of the red cape hung from the armoured shoulders. The exhibit described as the Emperor Rangor of Stalvane, destroyer of the Silver Kingdom resumed being just a statue, garbed in black war gear. The blank faceplate stared out over the manicured lawns of the gardens. White graveled paths wound among the flower beds and the other exhibits standing on their plinths. One had only to approach any of the exhibits in this strange garden for it to spring into life and recount its tale. It all meant something, or was probably meant to teach a lesson of some kind; but it just seemed rather pointless to Ace. She wondered why the Doctor had brought her to this strange collection of animated models of despots, monsters and murderers - unless.... Ace crossed her arms and glared at the Doctor. He was regarding her with a hopeful expression while he idly twirled his question mark brolly. Ace uncrossed her arms. She raised a hand to push back strands of her brown hair blowing across her face and said, "I wouldn't be expected to suddenly realise something from this? Something about the power of forgiveness, by any chance?" Her voice was acid. The Seventh Doctor looked a little less hopeful. Ace glared at him. He continued to twirl his brolly, looking for all the world like a kid caught out in a bare faced lie. A puppy dog expression was also crawling onto his face. At last, Ace could stand it no longer. "alright, alright," she said at last. I forgive you." She turned her back on both the Doctor and the statue. Borne on the flower scented breeze, the tortured voice of the Emperor Rangor of Stalvane began once more to recount his tale. Ace stalked off along the path to the Davros exhibit. She paused at the activation line and shoved hands into the pockets of the bomber jacket. For a long moment she stared moodily at the gruesome monstrosity sitting in its chair, pushing her foot to the line, and withdrawing it again as the exhibit started to come to life. Suddenly tiring of this game, she glanced over her shoulder. "But you're still a manipulative little git!" she yelled. The end.