↳ oxygen #5

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Keep moving. Untangle these wires, give them away, deep breath repeat. Ophelia knew it couldn't have been long since they had gone inside that room but it didn't matter. If this plan didn't work, their lives would be ended by angry space zombies in a couple of minutes and Bill's demise would have been for nothing. That simply wasn't an option. She'd solve their problems by kicking all of those living dead people into oblivion should there be a need for violence.

"Doctor, this isn't going to work." Unlike her, who kept faith out of pure spite, Nardole voiced his concern.

"Isn't it?" The Doctor got a bunch of wires from his assistant. "Why, what do you think I'm doing?"

"Electrolysis." His voice kept on talking to him while keeping an eye on their female friend, whose injuries were probably getting worse. "Splitting water into hydrogen and oxygen."

"Oh, that's clever." The time lord's hands quickly found whatever they'd been looking for before pulling on a thick red cable. "I wish I could see me doing that."

"Doctor, that water is cooling the nuclear core. We'd enjoy five minutes of oxygen before the whole thing overheated and blew." Not exactly a pleasant way to go.

"Yes, five whole minutes! We could boil the hell out of an egg!" He kept on following a red cable's trail until it ended. "Stop being such a quitter!"

"Doctor, it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have saved her!" For some reason that sentence struck Ophelia like that punch Sutcliffe had taken. It began to bring back several memories that'd be much better forgotten.

"You know what's wrong with this universe? Believe me, I've looked into it." His breath grew raggedy with effort. "Everyone says it's not their fault. Well, yes, it is. All of it. It's all your fault. So, what are you going to do about it?"

"There's nothing we can do! She's dead." Nardole was about to get gently punched and lack of breathable air would be to blame.

"She's no more dead than you are." He gripped Nardole's right shoulder. "Than I am. Than everyone on this station is. Get me to a keyboard."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm not trying to make oxygen." Ophelia'd have been better help, at least there'd be no questioning of the plan. "Keyboard! Now, please!"

"You think you have a plan." Ivan questioned from behind a control panel.

"We've got exactly one plan left." Like it was second nature to him, his gloved hands expertly worked without much guidance.

"What plan?" Ivan's eyes focused on a big screen before all of them.

"The big one." Ophelia decided to stand by his side while he spoke, trying to keep up with rapidly changing green words. "The one you've been waiting for all your life."

"What's he doing?" Abby asked out loud, deeply confused.

"'Coolant system' again?" His assistant's voice triggered a response.

"Yes, I've rejigged it a tiny little bit. Either that, or I've really screwed up the plumbing." The Doctor delighted in hearing her small giggle. "It's tough when you're blind."

"We need to know about this plan." Abby's demand got met with mock agreement.

"Uh huh. The nice thing about life is, however bad it gets, there's always one last option available." He finished typing, pushed a lever down then walked away. "Dying well."

Under newfound independence's spotlight, Ophelia Watson felt useless. All she did to help today was offer some well timed comments, try to give her friend a better chance at staying alive and even that hadn't worked out with an unavoidable death and some pretty serious injuries. Canassis Manor could do a lot worse than this dingy space station but there she'd never been able to choose. Here all her mind seemed to do were poor choices.

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