Two shadowy figures met in the dark passageways beneath the great citadel. The taller of the two bowed formally to his shorter companion.

"Is all prepared?" asked the shorter one.

"It is, my Lord," replied the other. "The interloper shall be dead before the southern desert is painted red by the setting of the sun."

"Excellent. It is paramount that the lineage of our world be kept pure. The weakened bloodlines of the New Clans need to be kept in their place."

"My Lord is very wise."

The Lord thought for a moment. "An investigation will of course follow. I assume you have taken steps to ensure it cannot throw suspicion upon me?"

"Rest assured, my Lord, the digit of blame will never point towards your noble House."

"Ensure that it does not, or you shall suffer my wrath!"

The taller of the two nodded. "I shall do as you bid, my Lord."

The Lord let out a satisfied hiss. "Then see it is so."

***

The TARDIS shrieked its arrival, rending the still, quiet air of the dim tunnel. As it became solid the noise of its passage from the vortex died away, returning peace to the scene.

The door opened with an audible creak and a close cropped, dark haired head poked out. After taking a deep sniff, the head disappeared again.

It reappeared moments later, on top of a tall, lean body clad in a dark purple T-shirt, dark blue trousers and a long, black leather coat.

A shorter figure followed. Female, with long blonde hair and wearing blue jeans and a dark red jacket, she looked around their landing site.

"It's a bit dark, Doctor," she complained. Then she felt her throat constrict, causing her to gasp in a futile attempt to draw in more air.

"You'll need these," the Doctor told her, handing over a bottle of pills. He turned to lock the TARDIS, continuing his explanation. "The atmosphere is thinner than you're used to. Take two now, then one every eight hours or when you feel short of breath." He grinned suddenly. "Just what the Doctor ordered!"

His companion quickly swallowed two of the blue tablets. She took a cautious breath, then a deeper one. "That's better."

The Doctor smiled down at her. "You see, Rose, they oxygenate the blood, compensating for the lower than Earth normal amount of oxygen in the air."

Rose scowled at him. "You could have told me that before we left the TARDIS!"

"I suppose I could..." he said, a slight twinkle of mischief in his eye.

"So where are we this time?" Rose asked, changing the subject.

The Doctor took in their drab surroundings, the dark stone of the walls, ceiling and floor, the faint flickering light from around the corner. He frowned.

"I'm not entirely sure. We should investigate."

He strode rapidly towards the light, a swirl of black leather coat tails.

Sighing deeply, Rose followed.

***

"My Lord Izlyr."

Izlyr turned at the sound of his aide's voice. "What?"

"Sir, the Lord Snarl has requested the pleasure of an audience with you," replied Sslen, Izlyr's aide.

Lord Izlyr grimaced. He would be happier if he never saw Lord Snarl ever again. But given that they were in competition for the greatest prize of their society that hardly seemed likely.

"Tell the Lord Snarl I can make time to meet with him tomorrow morning," he instructed.

Sslen bowed and turned to leave, when the huge doors at the end of the room crashed open. Standing framed in the opening was the squat, powerful and helmeted shape of Lord Snarl.

"Izlyr, good of you to see me at such short notice," the rival warrior said.

"Not at all," Izlyr replied with an ill-concealed sigh. "It is always an honour to do business with you, Lord Snarl."

"Let us dispense with the pleasantries and get down to that business," Snarl suggested.

"Very well. What is the purpose of your visit?" Izlyr asked.

Snarl gave a dry chuckle. "I would have thought that was obvious. I am here to request that you give up your challenge."

"And why would I do that?"

"Why? To save yourself the humiliation of a crushing defeat," Snarl said, as if talking to a backward child.

Izlyr shook his own helmeted head. "I shall abide by the will of the people. If they turn against me, so be it. But I shall not withdraw simply because you wish it, Snarl."

The other warrior ground his teeth. "Then on your own head be the consequences," he spat. Then he turned on his heel and marched out of the chamber.

When he had gone, Izlyr turned again to Sslen. "I think you can strike that meeting with Lord Snarl from tomorrow's agenda."

"Of course, my Lord," the aide replied, bowing and going about his Lord's business.

***

The Doctor and Rose had followed the faint light and found an almost identical corridor. The only differences were the two flaming torches mounted on the wall and the absence of a TARDIS disguised as a London Police Box.

"This place gets more interesting by the decade," Rose groused.

"Where's your sense of adventure?" the Doctor challenged his companion.

She patted the pockets of her jacket, as if looking for something. "Oh dear, I seem to have left it back in the TARDIS."

The Doctor ignored her flippancy. "Anyway, we've already made some progress," he stated.

"How so?"

"We've passed from an unlit corridor to a lit corridor."

"Telling us what?" Rose wanted to know.

The Doctor sighed. "We're obviously heading into a more regularly used part of this building. We're getting closer to the heart of the action."

"Fantastic," Rose muttered ironically, too low for the Time Lord to hear as he moved off again.

***

"My Lord."

Izlyr allowed an exasperated hiss to escape from between his teeth. "What is it now?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you again, my Lord, but Palace Security have discovered a strange object," Sslen announced.

Lord Izlyr frowned. Most of the time he was sure Palace Security couldn't find their own helmets with both clamps, but he decided against voicing this thought. Instead he asked a question.

"What kind of object?"

"A tall blue box."

This piqued Izlyr's curiosity, as well as his memory. "I should like to see this box."

"The Security Captain on duty is awaiting you in the monitoring suite."

"Then that is where I shall be, Sslen. In the meantime, have Palace Security look out for strangers."

"What kind of strangers?"

"Humans."

***

Having navigated a number of passageways, plus going up a spiral stone staircase, the time travellers had reached a dead end in the latest corridor.

Rose was only slightly surprised that this didn't seem to bother the Doctor. Instead, he was patting the wall with his hands, as is searching for something.

"Don't tell me you're looking for a secret door," she said. "They only exist in stories."

The Doctor spared her a glance. "Where do you think the stories got the idea?"

As he turned back to his task, Rose scowled at him. "I'll just shut up then," she muttered.

"Aha," the Doctor exclaimed moments later. He had discovered a loose brick and was pushing hard against it.

With hardly any noise, the wall pivoted in the centre, letting them out into a large, spacious chamber.

"Open Sesame," the Doctor grinned at Rose as he ushered her towards the portal. She returned his smile as they stepped through.

The room they entered was obviously an important one. Many torches blazed, vying for wall space with works of art and weapons, some of which looked very old but also well cared for.

There was nobody else in the room, which Rose was glad of, as they were obviously somewhere they were not supposed to be. She decided to voice this concern.

"I think we should get out of here, Doctor, before we're discovered."

The Doctor was gazing around, taking in everything with his eyes. He nodded.

"I think you might be right," he replied, turning back towards the secret passageway.

But while they had been taking in their surroundings, the hidden doorway had closed silently, leaving a blank section of wall behind. The Doctor ran his fingers over it, but failed to find a release mechanism on their side.

He looked at his companion and shrugged. "Looks like a job for the sonic screwdriver."

Rose sighed as he set to work. This was not turning out to be a good day.

***

Izlyr studied the main monitor screen, which showed a dimly lit passageway, dominated by a tall blue box with doors set into the side and an unlit lamp on the top.

He had seen such a structure once before, on the distant planet of Peladon. There it had belonged to a white haired man called the Doctor, who had claimed to be a Federation delegate from Earth. However, he had fled when the real Earth delegate had arrived.

"How long has that box been there?" he demanded.

"It was detected on a routine monitor scan, about five demi-cycles ago."

"So you've no idea when it actually arrived, or how?"

"Well, no, sir," answered the Security Captain, avoiding the gaze of the Lord.

Izlyr sighed, glancing around the smaller monitors. His eyes fixed on one in particular.

"What is that?"

The Captain turned, regarding the image. "Intruders! Shall I sound the alarm?"

"No. Send a squad of guards to meet me outside. I shall deal with this personally."

Lord Izlyr stalked out of the monitoring suite while the Captain called out the guards.

***

The Doctor had been forced to give up his attempt to reopen the secret door when it seemed he was getting nowhere. He scowled at the wall as he slipped his sonic screwdriver back into his pocket.

"Now what?" Rose demanded.

"Look for another way out?" the Doctor suggested.

They were both startled when the double doors of the room burst open and they were surrounded by large, green aliens carrying mean looking weapons in their clamp-like hands.

"Little too late for that other exit," Rose said coolly.

The Doctor just smiled round at the hard faced aliens. None of them returned his smile.

The robust ring of warriors parted slightly to let a smaller alien through their ranks. It was dressed in a leather type armoured tunic, slacks and a cape and wore a domed helmet over its green, scaly head.

The Doctor peered closely at the newcomer. "Lord Izlyr?"

The alien blinked slowly behind the red tinted eye shields of his helmet. "I do not believe we have met."

But the Doctor was grinning. "Yes we have, you were the Federation's Martian delegate at the negotiations to admit the planet Peladon."

Izlyr frowned. "Those facts are a matter of record. Your face, however, is not."

"Of course, I was forgetting. I've changed a bit since then. I'm the Doctor." He offered his hand to Izlyr.

The Martian Lord ignored the hand, looking the Doctor up and down. "You've changed a great deal. I didn't know humans aged backwards."

"Ah," the Doctor said. "They don't as a rule. But then I'm not human, I'm a Time Lord."

Izlyr nodded. "I believe I understand. You are saying that you are the same Doctor I met on Peladon?"

"Exactly!" the Doctor exclaimed with a wide grin.

"In that case, you have proved yourself to be a fraud! That Doctor claimed, falsely, to be a delegate from the planet Earth."

"Well," the Doctor replied. "If you recall, I did have a major influence in securing Federation and Peladonian interests, with your help. Now, could the actual Earth delegate have done that?"

Lord Izlyr frowned, remembering the loud and difficult woman who had been the real Earth delegate.

"No, I do not believe she could."

Rose decided she had been sidelined long enough in this conversation. "So, are you going to introduce me, or shall I just stand here?"

The Doctor smiled at her. "Lord Izlyr, this is Rose, my travelling companion and best friend. Rose, this is Izlyr, Lord of the Martian High Court and an old acquaintance."

Izlyr executed a small bow to Rose, then eyed the Doctor. "Not Princess Rose of TARDIS?"

The Doctor laughed lightly, remembering his deception over Jo Grant's lineage. "No, not this time."

Izlyr sighed. "Well, Doctor, it seems I have no choice but to believe you. Would the two of you join me for an evening meal? I will arrange guest quarters for you as well."

"That'd be fantastic," the Doctor confirmed. Rose groaned quietly.

Lord Izlyr turned to the ring of guards still surrounding them. He gestured to one. "Have Sslen sent here. The rest of you are dismissed."

The guards left their Lord with his two new guests.

***

"Lord Izlyr is a fool!"

"Calm down, Snarl," said the older Lord. "If you continue like this you will want to kill someone, and I am low on staff as it is."

"I cannot help it, Scran. I tried to give him an honourable way out and he refused! Now we will have to go head to head, unless something were to happen, of course."

"What sort of something?"

Snarl shrugged. "We live in an ancient and brutal culture, for all our advancement and social improvement. Accidents can happen anywhere."

Scran considered the younger man's words. "You would not have something planned, would you?"

"Of course not," Snarl protested. "The very idea. I was merely commenting on possibilities, that is all."

"Indeed," Scran replied with a slight smile. He had known this headstrong young warrior all his life, and his father before him. In fact he thought of the boy as almost family and was his greatest supporter in the Court.

"Let us not speak of Izlyr any more, for it displeases me to even mention his name."

"As you wish," Scran said easily, turning the conversation to other matters.

***

The quarters Rose had been shown to by Izlyr's aide were large and cold. The vast room didn't keep any of the heat streaming in from the sun, which would soon be setting for the night. She considered the big bed, with its many fur blankets, and wondered if she would be able to sleep for the sound of her teeth chattering.

There was a knock on her door. She knew exactly who it would be, as these Martians, or Ice Warriors as the Doctor had also called them, didn't seem to understand the principle of a guest's privacy.

"Come in," she called and the Doctor appeared, grinning from ear to ear.

"Isn't it marvellous?" he enthused.

"It's wonderful," Rose replied sullenly. "Now, what are we talking about?"

"All this," the Doctor said, throwing his arms wide to encapsulate the entire room, if not Izlyr's whole palace. "It's a shame Benny's not here, she would've loved it. She was a student of the Martian race." The Doctor dropped down into a sitting position on her bed. "I wonder if she ever finished that book of Martian jokes she was working on?"

Rose sighed. "Does this have any relevance to our situation?"

"Probably not," the Time Lord admitted. "Anyway, we don't have a situation at the moment. We are honoured guests of a Martian Lord, and unless I miss my guess, we should be getting called for dinner any minute now."

No sooner had the Doctor finished speaking than Sslen opened the door and looked around at them.

"Ah, good, you are together. Lord Izlyr requests the pleasure of your company for the evening meal."

"We're right behind you," the Doctor said, bounding to his feet and crossing quickly to the door, which he held open for Rose to precede him.

***

The meal was a lavish affair, set upon a long table in a hall close to the room where Izlyr had first encountered his new guests. The table itself was laden with many different types of food and drink, which Rose found a little odd, as there were just the three of them there.

However, the Doctor didn't seem phased by this and she was very much taking her cues from him about how to behave in the Martian culture.

She had been wondering how Izlyr was going to eat anything, given the clamps he had in place of hands. But it turned out these were actually elaborate gloves, used in everyday life by the Lords and warriors of New Mars. The Lord had removed them before the meal, to reveal three digit hands with opposable thumbs.

The Doctor was talking animatedly with Lord Izlyr, detailing some past adventure of his from before her time. Their host seemed interested in the tale, so Rose amused herself by looking around their dining area.

Like the rest of the rooms she had seen, this one was on a grand scale. The walls, floor and ceiling were of the same dark stone that they had seen everywhere today. There were the usual flaming torches fixed firmly to the walls, between tapestries which presumably depicting scenes from the planet's past. And at one end of the room was a roaring fireplace, which Rose couldn't help but wish was in her room instead of here.

"...And then she swung the shovel and caught him right on the probic vent, despite the fact she didn't even know it was a Sontaran's weakest point!" the Doctor said, finishing his story.

"Remarkable," Izlyr commented. "You have lead a number of extraordinary lives, Doctor."

"And hopefully a few more left to live," he replied, raising a goblet of wine to his lips.

"You must try the grilled Scravar," Izlyr told him, indicating a previously untouched dish. "My chefs prepare it in wine, and it enhances the flavour greatly."

The Doctor nodded. "You're most gracious in your hospitality, Lord Izlyr," he said, reached for the delicacy.

Rose had drifted into bored mode again, picking idly at the food on her plate. It came as a shock then when she heard a muffled choking sound from her right and turned to see the Doctor gasping and clutching at his throat. As she watched, his face turned purple and he toppled slowly backwards from his chair, to lie still on the floor of the chamber.

Instinct took over and Rose leapt from her seat, kneeling at the Doctor's side even before Izlyr could get there. She felt for a pulse and checked for breathing. She couldn't find either.

"What happened?" Izlyr wanted to know.

Rose shook her head, her eyes wide with shock. "I don't know. Some kind of poison I suppose, more than likely in that delicacy you told him about."

Izlyr frowned. "How is he?"

She looked up at the Martian Lord, tears prickling her eyes. "I think he's dead!"

***

The Doctor's body had been moved to his room in Izlyr's palace. He lay, stiff as a board, on the bed he had never had time to try in life.

Rose stood watch over him, her head bowed, tears streaming down her face.

He'd come into her life in a burst of energy and a swirl of black leather. And of course the massive explosion that had destroyed the department store she worked in! His enthusiasm for all life, his wit and charm, his love of all things right and just, she had admired and respected him for all that. They had formed a bond, a strong bond, against the evils of the universe, fighting them wherever and whenever they found them (usually on Earth, for some reason). And now he was gone. Dead. Just like that, a great life snuffed out.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. How she wished the Martians would observe the courtesy of knocking!

It was Izlyr. He approached the bed and took up a similar position to hers.

"I am gratified that your culture also honours the death of a warrior," he said quietly.

She looked up at him through her tears. "Is that all you can say? He's dead! He's never coming back and its all your fault!"

He nodded his understanding. "I know that humans have a grieving procedure to undertake. And you will be gratified to learn that I have ordered that the Scravar meat be tested for toxins."

"Good," said a voice from the bed. "I think it was a little off, myself."

Rose and Izlyr were stunned speechless as the Doctor sat up slowly and swung his legs off the bed. He stretched and shook his head.

"I think I must be getting old. I used to be able to metabolise poisons like that in minutes."

"Doctor! You're alive!" Rose exclaimed, her mouth hanging open in shock.

"What's up, worried you wouldn't have a taxi to take you home?" he inquired, but with a slight smile on his face as he stood slowly.

Rose ran forward and hugged him fiercely. He grinned, while Izlyr looked slightly uncomfortable, not easy for a Lord of the Martian High Court.

"I think Izlyr summed it up pretty well," the Doctor told them, working the kinks out of his neck muscles as he disengaged from Rose's hug. "The Scravar was poisoned, presumably with the intention of killing you, Lord Izlyr. However, as my constitution is different from Martian physiology, I was able to break the poison down in my system and expel it. Took a little longer than I expected though."

Izlyr was pacing the room. He glanced over at the Doctor. "There is treachery within my household. I shall root it out and destroy the perpetrators!"

"That's all well and good," the Doctor told him, "but why would someone want to see you dead?"

The Martian Lord stopped his pacing. "That question I can answer easily enough. I am one of two candidates for the position of Regent of New Mars. There are those who would see me fail and others who would wish to make the contest a foregone conclusion for my rival."

"And you believe your rival organised the poisoning?" Rose asked.

Izlyr looked grim. "I would put nothing past Lord Snarl!"

***

Darkness created long shadows in the great citadel, particularly among the narrow alleyways away from the brighter lighting of the main streets. It was in one such alley that the conspirators met once again.

"Izlyr lives!" observed the Lord, his tone displaying his anger at this turn of events.

"I know, my Lord," replied the other. "The poison was discovered by one of his two recently arrived human guests."

"Well, at least it was not totally wasted then," the Lord commented. "Any guest of Izlyr is an enemy of mine, and deserves to die."

"Ah. Well, it seems the poison was not fatal to the human's system. He lives also."

The Lord frowned. "Do you have any good news?"

"I do. Izlyr will not survive to take his place at the debating stage tomorrow. By the time the sun reaches its zenith in the sky, he shall have joined his ancestors in the Clan tomb."

"Be sure you do not fail me this time," warned the Lord. "Or it will be you joining your ancestors!"

***