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“STARDUST AND ASHES – A FIRE, A STRANGER, AND A LIFE REMEMBERED”

Stardust and Ashes, the second entry in the Families Companion Chronicles set, is a deceptively quiet, emotionally resonant story that gives long-overdue narrative weight to Susan Foreman. It opens with an older Susan—now grieving the loss of her grandfather, husband David, and son Alex—sitting by a fire and talking to a stranger named Perimen. This simple framing device immediately distinguishes the story from a standard adventure, as Susan begins to reflect on a lifetime of grief, identity, and how she was always perceived as “just a child.”

To illustrate her point, Susan recounts a little-known adventure with the Doctor, Ian, and Barbara—one which showcases her deeper intelligence, courage, and independence. And in doing so, Big Finish delivers a moving recontextualisation of a character long overdue for one.

A FAMILIAR ADVENTURE THROUGH A FRESH LENS

The recounted story is classic Doctor Who in structure: a mysterious distress signal, a derelict spaceship, a malfunctioning AI, and a creeping sense that something is deeply wrong. The TARDIS team arrives on a ship devoid of crew, guided and hindered by an onboard computer that slowly reveals a disturbing truth: the crew is dead, and the computer now sees the Doctor and friends as replacements.

While this kind of plot would fit snugly into the early Hartnell era, the Companion Chronicle format allows the tale to unfold with richer psychological depth—especially from Susan’s perspective. Carole Ann Ford’s narration is as warm and textured as ever, offering a vivid sense of Susan’s inner world. Her voices for Ian, Barbara, and the Doctor aren’t perfect imitations, but they’re close enough to evoke the spirit of those characters while reminding us this is Susan’s story.

RECLAIMING SUSAN

What makes Stardust and Ashes so compelling isn’t the mystery aboard the ship, though it’s well-told and surprisingly tense for a narrated format. It’s the effort to reframe Susan’s characterisation—not as the screaming teenager of 1960s TV, but as a clever, capable, and intuitive Time Lady forced to play a role. Here, Susan’s instincts prove sharper than even the Doctor’s, her understanding of the ship’s psyche forming the key to resolving the situation. It’s a thoughtful bit of metatextual commentary, one that finally gives Susan the autonomy and maturity the show never fully explored.

There’s even a faint echo of Wild Blue Yonder in the isolated sci-fi eeriness of the ship, the growing sense of unease, and the strange intelligence manipulating the environment. The tone is light on action but rich in atmosphere, with a slow build toward the revelation that the AI is confused, lonely, and dangerous because of its loss—mirroring Susan’s own emotional state.

A STORY OF GRIEF AND RELEASE

The climax is subdued but satisfying, with Susan using empathy rather than force to guide the AI into letting go of its obsessive purpose. It’s a nice parallel for her own arc, which reaches its emotional peak in the beautiful final scene. Holding her son Alex’s ashes in a firework rocket, she finally lets go—of him, of her past, and perhaps of the grief that has defined her.

This coda is quietly devastating, and Ford’s delivery is exceptional—layered, raw, and real. What could have been a maudlin moment becomes instead a cathartic release, aided by the understated direction and a script that trusts its lead performer to carry the emotion without overstatement.

PERIMEN AND THE POWER OF KINDNESS

The story’s framing device, with Susan speaking to a kind stranger, is revealed to be more than just a narrative trick. Perimen is not merely a confidant but a gentle guide, someone who helps Susan contextualise her grief and move forward. In many ways, he’s doing for her what Susan did for the ship’s AI—recognising pain and confusion, and offering compassion as a way out.

📝VERDICT: 84/100

Stardust and Ashes is a Companion Chronicle of rare emotional resonance—both a re-evaluation of Susan Foreman’s character and a mature, moving meditation on loss. The spaceship adventure at its centre is solid and atmospheric, but it’s the framing narrative, and Carole Ann Ford’s heartfelt performance, that elevates the story into something truly special.

Big Finish deserves credit for giving Susan the depth she always deserved, and for showing that even in a universe of monsters and wonders, it’s the quiet, personal moments that leave the greatest impact.

I didn't realize quite how much I missed the Ian/Barbara/Susan pairing until this story. Such a great pair. And this is a great story, with a PHENOMENAL epilogue. Susan is always great, so I love seeing more of her.

A+. Maybe A.

An unexpected Coda to To the Death released all these years later. The story of the original TARDIS team navigating a ship that has lost its crew in the past is all well and good, but that's not where the true magic is. This story is about Susan grieving the death of her son, and finally deciding she can let him go. It's heartbreaking and beautiful, and how lucky are we 60 years later Carol Ann Ford can still deliver like this?

So far, a fantastic boxset, do not overlook it!

Stardust and Ashes - ★★★½☆

This review contains spoilers not only for the title story but also for "An Earthly Child", "Relative Dimensions" and "Lucie Miller/To the Death".

Reflecting on Stardust and Ashes was interesting. Ian Potter is not an author I've heard many stories from, his most notable contribution to me being The Alchesmists, another Companion Chronicle for which I don't have much affection. I only checked who had written this story after I had finished listening, so any previous opinions I had about the author didn't affect my experience this time. And I was taken by surprise.

This is a very perspective-driven story, as Companion Chronicles often are. The structure of the range allows its releases to exist on two distinct layers - the main story, which is being told by the companion, and the set-up story, which sometimes has a metanarrative purpose. It is common for stories to be told by the companions years after their departure. Stardust and Ashes is set in a particular period in Susan's life - shortly after "Lucie Miller/To the Death", the resounding finale of the fourth season of the Eighth Doctor and Lucie Miller's adventures. There, Susan was reunited with her grandfather, introduced him to her son and, later accompanied by Lucie, they were brutal victims of a second Dalek invasion of Earth. To the Death is a massacre of the regular cast, with Susan and the Doctor being two of the few survivors.

Stardust and Ashes' Susan is a grieving one, completely lost and not quite sure who she is anymore. The setup intertwines with the story she tells, set many years earlier when she was still traveling with the Doctor, Ian and Barbara, in the frustrations she faces. The narrative this time stands out for bringing to light, from her point of view, some contradictions that the character has gained over the years. She patronized at various times, both by her grandfather and by Ian and Barbara, and she points out to the man she tells the story to that she believes that her grandfather and her began to play a role after their departure from Gallifrey. That they both, at some point, began to believe that she was just a child.

It's such an interesting perspective that I also think works on a few levels - it addresses some of the character's inconsistencies, it questions a bit the role that Caroline Ann Ford herself had as Susan in the classic series (Doctor Who in the 60s had surprisingly well-developed female characters, but Susan is often not one of them) and it also, lovingly, shakes her relationship with the other characters. Susan wasn't just patronized by her peers - she was treated that way by the text. Another question arises from this: what else can Susan be?

In the context of this audio, and the future that the character has conquered, she has also become a wife. A mother. And as she herself says, those were two other roles that she learned to play. But in Stardust and Ashes she has lost all of that - David has been dead for years, Alex and Lucie have been killed by the Daleks in a bloody showdown and her grandfather, with whom she had just reconnected, has once again left as broken as she is. From the ashes of all that she has lost, is there any Susan left who can rise again?

The last seven minutes are stunning. Quite possibly my favorite performance by Ann Ford in the role. All of Susan's grief, all of her pain, all of her loneliness comes out. It's heartbreaking and it hurts. To quote my favorite line:

"I miss all of them so much. And what do I got now? A ruined city. Not even my boy's ashes."

"A rebuilding city. You're not regretting let him go?"

"No. No regrets. I needed to."

"So, what's next?"

"I don't know. I'll just have to do what I feel's right. Stop looking back and keep going forward. I've got something to prove."

The stronger part is definitely the setup story, but the story that Susan tells has its merits - it's one of those scenarios where the characters are trapped in a ship controlled by a computer that doesn't want to let them go and becomes a threat. It's not my favorite of this niche in Doctor Who, that title goes to Aquitaine, but it has great characterizations for the regular cast. Several decisions made in the plot felt very true to the spirit of the 60s - there's a scene in particular where the Doctor asks Susan and Barbara to go investigate another place as an excuse for them to leave where they are so he and Ian try to use a dead body to unlock a passage. I rewatched The Daleks recently and this scene reminded me of the moment when the two of them pull the Dalek out of its shell without Susan and Barbara seeing the creature. Here Susan herself points out how stupid it is because they've seen much worse (and it's playing by a sexist point of view that was common in the 60s but don't make much sense with the current background the character has), but it's a touch of characterization that stood out to me.

The threat from the ship is rarely physical, so this is a great opportunity to highlight the characters' naivety. The decontamination scene is really cool. The way Susan "resolve" the plot is also really cool. I think her uncertainty about whether they were the ones who helped the ship or if they were put in situations that led them to do exactly what the ship wanted is interesting, and I like how it ties into the discussion she's been having with Mr. Barryman about wanting to be alone vs. the strength of being together.

TARDIS report #1: I want to quote another moment that stuck in my head:

"Can you still do that? Y'now, travel back into the past."

"Only in memories. And stories. Now I only travel to the future like everyone else does. Moment by moment, day by day."

TARDIS report #2: I have some continuity notes. This story is set after The Sensorites, since the sensesphere is mentioned by the TARDIS team. Susan stated at the end of the story that shortly after the events narrated, she left the TARDIS during the events of The Dalek Invasion of Earth. So it's a little further ahead in the timeline. The setup story probably takes place shortly after Lucie Miller/To the Death, but before Susan joined the Time War.

TARDIS report #3: Obviously this story agrees and disagrees with various previous characterizations of Susan as is often the case. This is a version of the character that suggests she is much more mature and capable than some other versions. Older, too. But perhaps the most glaring discrepancy is the implication that her joining Coal Hill School was the Doctor's idea; usually the stories agree that it was Susan's.

TARDIS report #4: it's GREAT to have the Companion Chronicles back. Such a wonderful range. Some of my favorite stories ever in Doctor Who are Companion Chronicles. Hope they stay around.

This story is beautiful honestly such a compelling story