Diamond Dogs

A heist on a glittering alien casino world—what could possibly go wrong? (Spoiler: everything, and quite stylishly at that.)

Extended Storyline

It begins, as many bad ideas do, with the Doctor claiming he just wants to “pop in for a quick look.” Bill should know better by now. The “quick look” turns out to be a visit to Desolation, a luxury casino orbiting a dying star—part Vegas, part Bond villain lair, and all trouble. The clientele includes smugglers, mercenaries, and beings with more limbs than scruples.

The Doctor, resplendent in his usual “vaguely professor who lost a bet” ensemble, is fascinated by the technology powering the casino’s security systems. Bill, meanwhile, is fascinated by the idea that someone actually built a floating monument to bad decisions.

They soon stumble upon a motley crew of criminals planning the heist of the century: Gemma, the daring leader with a moral compass permanently stuck on “Ask me later”; Rennik, a cyborg safecracker who can interface with any lock (and occasionally the coffee machine); and Vash, a shapeshifter with trust issues and too many teeth. Their target? The Diamond of Calappas, a gem the size of a human heart that allegedly contains “infinite energy.” Which, in the Doctor’s experience, usually means “infinite ways to explode.”

Naturally, the Doctor and Bill are mistaken for rival thieves and roped into the operation. The Doctor doesn’t exactly object—he’s always fancied himself a gentleman burglar, after all—but he insists on “breaking in ethically.” (“We’re not stealing,” he clarifies to Bill. “We’re redistributing cosmic resources before they hurt someone.”)

The heist unfolds with cinematic flair: hacking drones, invisible elevators, and a chase across zero-gravity gaming floors. Bill proves herself the quick-thinking MVP, improvising distractions while the Doctor uses his sonic screwdriver to baffle the casino’s AI, which has the personality of a passive-aggressive butler.

But the real twist comes when they finally reach the vault. The Diamond of Calappas isn’t a gem—it’s alive. The Doctor realizes it’s a Sentient Crystal Entity, a living organism whose consciousness was trapped inside the jewel centuries ago. It’s been siphoning energy from the dying star to survive, and the casino’s owners have been using it as a power source-slash-tourist attraction.

Unfortunately, the Diamond’s had quite enough of being a conversation piece. It awakens fully, hijacking the station’s systems and declaring its intention to “consume and ascend.” The Doctor’s poker face vanishes faster than free buffet shrimp.

Cue chaos: alarms blare, gravity fails, and the station begins to drift toward the dying star. The Doctor, thinking at his usual impossible speed, concocts a plan that involves rerouting the energy grid through the Diamond’s crystalline lattice—essentially letting it “sing” itself free into pure energy form. (“It’s either going to transcend or take us all with it,” he mutters. “Fifty-fifty odds. I do love a coin toss.”)

With Bill’s help—and some reluctant heroics from the would-be thieves—they manage to stabilize the station and release the Diamond’s consciousness into the cosmos. It vanishes in a dazzling burst of light, leaving behind only a small fragment—a harmless, glittering pebble that Bill pockets as a souvenir.

As the Doctor and Bill make their escape, Gemma offers to split the non-existent loot. “Keep it,” the Doctor says. “I’m terrible at gambling. I always win the wrong thing.”

Back in the TARDIS, Bill admires the shard. “So that’s it? We just let it go?”
The Doctor smiles faintly. “It was never ours to keep. Besides, some things are only beautiful when they’re free.”

He pauses, glances at the console. “Now then—how do you feel about robbing a bank on Pluto?”
Bill groans. “You are the bad influence my mum warned me about.”