Word Count: 4814
Author's Summary: It was unusual to have a High Inquisitor from Senior Command come for an inspection in the middle of wartime to begin with. It was even more unusual for that same HI to arrive with not one, but two advisors; those advisors carrying their own ranks and insignia from the upper echelons of Command. Commendante Rychtell didn’t know whether to be flattered or frightened, but he figured a good dose of both wouldn’t hurt.
Character/Pairings: Eleventh Doctor, Clara Oswald, Amy Pond, Others
Warnings: Graphic Horror
Where to begin? There are several things going on in this fic which I love, but since this needs to be a concise rec and not an essay here are the main three:
1. The trippy, confusing, cold opening, which drop kicks you straight into this wonderfully complex tangle of a story. I say confusing, but it's confusing in that good, brilliant way where it's supposed to be a bit baffling until you hit about mid-way through and then, suddenly, everything snaps into place with a chilling logic that makes you want to re-read everything that's gone before.
2. Commendante Rychtell. As villains go, he's despicable in the worst ways possible. Except... he's also so completely human. I enjoyed the complex world-building standing behind this character, but even more so, I enjoyed how he was dealt with at the end and what this says about Eleven and his own demons, and the choices we all make and live with.
3. Eleven and all of his companions, past and present. They're just gorgeous together. Always.
“Future echoes,” he mused, fussing over the consoles with a handkerchief, stopping only to blow a spot of imaginary dust away from the vectoring controls.
“Future what?” Clara asked, breezing into the doors as she always did, complete confidence in every step, smile crooked at one corner of her mouth. “Are you talking to yourself again?”
“Sometimes that’s the only intelligent conversation to be found,” the Time Lord grumbled, shooting a glare at Clara when the TARDIS protested with a wheezing groan. “Sorry, dear — I didn’t mean to exclude you.”
“Well, I only just got here,” Clara said brightly. “And that doesn’t answer the question.”