On the cybership, the Cybermen prepare to battle the intruder who we're clearly meant to think is the Doctor. Amy's voice goes on: "He has a name, but the people of our world know him better as the Last Centurion." Rory strides through the cyberships' doors, wearing his Roman outfit, looking sort of badass. "I have a message and a question," he says to the room of armed Cybermen. "A message from the Doctor, and a question from me." The Cybermen don't shoot him dead. "Where... is... my... wife?" asks the Last Centurion. Even his hair looks better than usual. Being pissed off is kind of working for him. The Cybermen stare, as is their wont. "Oh, don't give me those blank looks," snarks Rory.
Rory strides -- he strides rather than walks when he is the Last Centurion - over to a window, beyond which massive ships assemble. He knows the Cyberlegion monitors this quadrant, he says. He gives them a chance to tell him what they know. "What is the Doctor's message?" asks a Cyberman. Behind Rory, the ships explode in fiery death. He doesn't turn to look at the explosion, which is another sign of his badassery. "Would you like me to repeat the question?" he asks.
Which brings us to Amy's silly BBC America intro. "We've been running ever since," she says. Except for the time she spent pregnant in a tube.
Demon's Run. The base is bustling with activity. Some of the soldiers gossip about the Cyberlegion's recent destruction. "He blew them all up, just to make a point!" says a fat soldier. "We're being paid to fight him, not praise him," says a thin one. They get into an elevator together. The Fat One is still giddily recounting tales of the Doctor's feats when they step off the elevator again. The young female soldier from earlier is sitting nearby, sewing a patch of fabric. She hears their exchange and smiles a little secret smile.
Up in a comm room, two other soldiers are trying to hone their skills when it comes to telling psychic paper from the real deal. They aren't really having much luck.
Down on the hangar floor, the soldiers mill about. A voice over the PA reminds them not to "interact with the headless monks without divine permission." Two said monks walk by the thin and fat guys while they work. The Thin One gawks a bit and the Fat One reminds him he's not supposed to stare. If you even try to look under their hoods, they'll kill you. When the Thin One wonders why they're called the headless monks, the young seamstress goes over to explain: "They believe the domain of faith is the heart and the domain of doubt is the head. They follow their hearts, that's all." The head is also the domain of thinking and chewing and drooling in one's sleep. It's a lot to give up. They recognize her as Lorna Bucket (not pronounced "bouquet") and introduce themselves. "I'm the Thin One. This is my husband, he's the Fat One." Honestly, he's just a bit stocky and not really fat. "Don't you have names?" Lorna asks. "We're the thin, fat, gay, married Anglican marines," the Fat One says. "Why would we need names, as well?" At this point, three monks show up to take the Fat One to his "conversion seminar." He makes a joke about hoping they don't have Lent, because he doesn't like giving things up. Hey, buddy, the sound you just heard is the universe laughing at you.