CHAPTER TWO
CHRONOSPACE CO-ORDINATES: Corteilanzamiento, Tejas, Mexico – Temporal Nexus Point Earth-G
CHRONOLOGICAL TELLURIAN DATE: October 3nd, 1987
Full moon quietly shined over the fog-laden marsh, while several figures were trudging through the thick mud and tall grass. Making certain no one was following them, they were swiftly heading towards the clearing. Out of all the dimensions they had traveled, this particular one proved in being the most bizarre they had ever encountered. Although the first three were much farther along their destination, the remaining two were lagging behind.
Upon first glance, one might easily mistake them for identical twins.
Brown-haired, hazel eyes, both of them appeared in their twenties and seemed like strong, young men.
Except on closer inspection, one of them possessed several distinctive features. A multicoloured headband, the red F-Clanscrest on his shirt, dark hands with claws and a wolf’s-tail. He also had an attribute where his eyes emitted an infrared glow for navigating in the dark. But for now, he was preoccupied with a strange, handheld device, resembling a futuristic remote control. His normal counterpart seemed rather concerned with his behaviour.
‘Fan,’ he spoke, checking the others, ensuring they hadn’t gotten too far ahead. ‘You okay? We did recover the TARDIS Component, didn’t we?’
The being in question was Fanger.
The Eighth Fanger, however, from a Time before the coming of the Last Great Time War. Much younger than his current form, he knew Gallifrey still existed, and so did the Time Lords. They were both alive and well. Studying the apparatus, Fanger had his mind set upon other critical matters.
‘Uh, yes, Quinn,’ his voice trailed slightly. ‘Still wish there had been another way.’
Fanger cast no illusions about the journey he had undertaken. Due to the Multiversal Crisis, it was imperative he locate and reconstruct the scattered components of the TARDIS 2. And he realised this specific task wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. Especially since the White Guardian had involved Quinn and his friends into the mix. But he never once imagined his assignment would bring him face-to-face with a parallel counterpart of himself. Nor the possibility his alternative self might not exactly share the same views as he did.
‘Fanger, he enslaved my brother,’ Quinn protested. ‘He tried utilising your TARDIS Component for dominating this world.’
The Paranormal Time Lord hesitated, giving Quinn an incredulous expression.
‘I see,’ he languidly remarked. ‘So, Mr. Mallory, when the Kromagg back on Skaro-7 was masquerading—not only as you—but myself, almost getting exterminated by the alternate Daleks, by your justification, we should’ve left him for the F-Clone Armada. Is that it?’
Quinn became speechless, while Fanger simply gazed outward into the horizon.
‘Remembering this, Quinn, despite what anyone does, spitefulness and hate justify nothing,’ he solemnly added. ‘Take if from someone who’s witnessed and experienced it firsthand.’
Fangarius. A telepathic voice interrupted. Don’t concern yourself with Gari.
‘Apolo?’ Recalling their invaluable guide, Fanger expediently scanned the area.
It’s imperative you depart from this world. They’ve begun tracing your device, and I fear I can’t hold them off for much longer..
‘Great Rassilon,’ Fanger instinctively checked the device. He and Quinn raced towards the appointed destination. ‘They’re onto us!’ After everything they had endured, the last thing they needed was being apprehended again.
‘That was fast,’ Quinn huffed, attempting not to slip and fall into the mud. ‘Has the Chronos Interface acquired enough power?’
‘We’ll soon find out,’ Fanger and his Companion approached the area where the others were waiting for them. ‘One CVE Transit Tunnel coming up.’ He aimed the CI unit at the space directly in front of them. ‘I hope.’
Touching the transit circuit key, Fanger shot an energy beam from the device. Establishing impact against an invisible barrier, the beam transformed itself into a transdimensional portal.
‘Uh, Fanger?’ Another brown-haired man, resembling Quinn, wanted to speak. But Quinn promptly gave him a warning shake of the head.
‘Now’s not the time, Colin,’ he whispered, while the remaining two had already entered the portal.
Fanger observed Quinn and Colin enter the CVET Tunnel. Before following them, the Paranormal Time Lord had surveyed the serene marshland once more. For reasons unknown, Fanger felt an unshakable, foreboding sense this was not going to be the last time he’d encounter this world. Taking a deep breath, he entered the CVET Tunnel. Automatically closing itself behind Fanger, the mysterious portal had left the tranquil scene.
There it would remain untouched for approximately five minutes.
Stepping out from the far thicket, two figures quietly emerged. Both dressed completely in black, they scrutinised their location. One was rather svelte and young, almost like a figure skater or an Olympic gymnast. Dark-hair with a goatee, his eyes were permeated with an icy-blue aura. His associate was rather well-built and slightly older. Except he had blonde-hair, deep-blue serpentine eyes, dark hands and a wolf’s tail. Other than that, one may have mistaken him for a bodybuilder or star athlete.
‘Apologies,’ the svelte one bemusedly observed the night scene. ‘Never imagined his departure would take this long.’
‘Apolo,’ the muscular being flicked his tail. Standing in a marsh at night was not his idea of fun. ‘I shall never comprehend the nature of Adama’s fascination with the Fangarian.’ Narrowing his eyes, he inspected the thick atmosphere. ‘I’ll admit he is efficiently resourceful, has adequate intelligence, but his emotions..’ he disgustedly reproached. ‘They weaken him considerably.’ He acknowledged the smooth, coffinesque chamber next to them. ‘And I fail comprehending the validity for bringing this one.’
Apolo deeply grinned, turning to his associate. ‘Simple, Ian,’ he glanced at the chamber. Waving a hand over its top section, he conjured a holographic image. Double-helix in nature, it revealed vital biological infodata about the being contained within the chamber. ‘His genetic biostructure’s identical with Lord Fangarius’ DNA, is it not?’
‘Affirmative,’ Ian confirmed, analysing the genetic representation. ‘Perhaps he might prove beneficial to Adama’s intricate strategy.’
Before engaging their conversation any further, they were abruptly interrupted by a stiff breeze. Apolo’s image automatically faded with the fog was rolled away from the marsh. Clouds formed above, covering the cosmic night. Lightning erratically danced about the evening sky. Apolo and Ian held their ground as the tempest intensified with great force. Fortunately Apolo had mystically anchored the chamber, otherwise the concentrated winds might have carried it beyond the county line.
Explosion of blue-violet light climaxed the storm, then everything ceased just as it had commenced. Two figures were now standing where the explosion had occurred.
It was Jake and Adama. They had arrived from their own Universe.
But Apolo and Ian perceived something was different about them. They were both slightly older.
Jake had developed sideburns, melting neatly into a goatee. Whereas Adama’s facial stubble and long hair indicated he hadn’t shaved, nor groomed, for several weeks. Ian determined this was an unforeseen side-effect of Dustin’s Dimensional Spell. Especially since the Cipherian Armada had arrived several months back. But it was no concern of theirs. Both Apolo and Ian knew what mattered was their visitors were here now. Adama and Jake could now resume the Project unhindered by anyone.
That is, if this particular planet proved doable for their requirements.
Adama swaggered slightly, disoriented from his prolonged dimensional trip. Almost losing his balance, the Cipherian was expediently caught by Ian.
‘Easy, Lord Adama,’ Ian helped him regain his footing. ‘You’ve not yet acclimatised with the RealDimension.’
‘Ricem, Ian,’ Adama acknowledged their contemporary environment. ‘Marsh land,’ his nose detected the damp scent of thick atmosphere blended with pungent sludge. He seriously doubted they were near any modernised civilisation, nor anything remotely containing advanced technology. ‘Location?’
‘Corteilanzamiento, Tejas’ Ian identified. ‘Specifically, though, we are in the outskirts of the actual rural locale.’
‘Affirmative,’ Adama continued scoping out his new surroundings. He never imagined Dustin kept true to the Tribunal’s sentence. ‘What of the Armada?’ He secretly perceived some of his kin weren’t exactly thrilled with this situation. ‘Have they been able to properly acclimatise themselves with the restrictive environment provided? No unforeseen anomalies?’
‘Actually, Milord,’ Ian wryly smiled. ‘The Cipher Lupiné have expediently adapted themselves with this alternate planet. Not only did our arrival go completely undetected, the locals here presume our Clanstribe is nothing more than a forgotten race just now resurfacing.’
Adama hesitated. Sensing it wasn’t this easy, he felt something amiss about this Earth. From his own personal experiences, these planets usually were under critical surveillance by annoying military factions. Normally acting outside their own governments, if his memory was accurate.
Salvaging his strength, Adama knew one definitive way for confirming Ian’s information. Standing in front of his associate, he stared directly into Ian’s eyes.
‘CONVEy’ Adama’s voice resonated within a deep echo, enforcing its command over Ian.
Concentrating, Ian’s eyes transformed into violet against deep blue. Responding to the effect, Adama’s did the same. Establishing contact between their minds, Ian transferred his knowledge about this new realm in meticulous detail. From its multicultural background, extensive chronology to its social, political and technological index, the planet’s origins and its inhabitants were revealed to Adama.
Upon receiving the extraordinary infodata, Adama’s expression slowly changed from subdued into great intrigue. Perhaps this alternate Earth possessed some unique possibilities for the Cipher Lupiné. Although the technological aspect was severely limited, Adama secretly perceived ways of making it function towards the Clanstribe’s advantage.
‘Yes..’ Adama ended the transmission. Considering everything he just acquired about this planet, he decided this was not a setback. ‘The Biosphere, denoted as Earth-G, has proven itself sufficient to our needs.’
During this conversation, no one noticed the energon sphere forming behind Jake. Bright as crimson fire, it appeared extremely agitated about the entire situation. After all, they had been so close procuring both The Doctor and—possibly—Fangarius in one fatal swoop, only to have it dashed from them by an interfering Fandraelian.
If you’re quite done discussing your whereabouts, the Sphere adamantly reproached. Might I remind you, we are now stranded within an alternate Universe. Completely cut-off from the most important factors needed for reviving us and continuing your precious experiments!
On this note, forceful winds whipped round Jake. Another portal formed, ripping apart the fabric of Time and Space itself. Strange beings began coming through it, acknowledging the Sphere’s anger towards the others.
‘You have failed us,’ One of them proclaimed, with a hauntingly-familiar monotone.
‘You have betrayed us,’ another apathetically added while emerald eyes started flashing fiercely. ‘You have betrayed the Acquisition. You will be e-lim-’
‘CHILL!’
Jake’s supernatural tone reverberated throughout the area. Its force instantly seized the beings, completely halting their activity. As well as transforming the sphere into a benevolent emerald colour. Adama, Ian and Apolo were caught unaware. But their astonishment was not with the statement itself, instead with Jake.
Jake rarely uttered the phrase with such clarity. The only time he did was when he was incredibly enraged. Fortunately, this only occurred once in a blue moon.
Pushing back his shades, he spoke, chilling the atmosphere about him.
‘Have you forgotten, bud, what Adama and I have endured, sacrificed, and undergone, solely for maintaining your form? Not to mention, maintaining your existence a secret from both Time Lords and Daleks? As far as I’m concerned, we have, on the whole, maintained our contract, despite the unforeseen consequences.’ Turning towards the Sphere, he now spoke in a low tone. ‘Going up against Dustin, not to mention Jidai Sakugo, would’ve jeopardised our mission. I’ve unique powers and capabilities, bud, but even I’m aware of my limitations.’ He diverted his attention back on Adama and Ian. ‘Besides I checked The Doctor’s biostructure. Unstable, persona irrational. If you attempted using his Bioprint, you’d end up blowing your chance due to a botched Incarnation.’
The Sphere made no response while Jake continued.
‘Know this, and know it well, bud. Adama and I did more than simply make an agreement with you. We established a consecrated band with you and the Acquisition, in exchange for your assistance. And we shall honour it,’ Jake examined the night sky. ‘No matter the cost.’
Adama perceived Jake’s words didn’t originate from a meaningless bravado. The Cipher Lupiné rarely formed alliances with other factions. Considering there were none of essential credibility worthy of their invaluable assistance.
Consequently, not only did Ayrian indicate the advent of the Time War, but the Ancient, Cillian, noted it had critically compromised the Ca’Telur Project. After several millennia of experimentation, preparation and investment, the Clanstribe hadn’t gotten this far, just to have it all dashed by some intradimensional conflict. Taking these factors into account, Cillian suggested the Cipherians institute a consecrated pact with the Sphere and its beings. Ironically, their bond was not founded solely upon trivial matters.
In all honesty, Adama didn’t care one way or the other about being protected from the Time War. Nor being rescued from insignificant lifeforms possessing astronomical delusions of grandeur. Instead there proved a far, greater importance behind this alliance, going beyond anyone’s comprehension.
‘Apologies,’ Adama politely bowed. ‘Nonetheless, Ayrian’s essentially accurate. If any false impressions were given, or remotely implied, by every conceivable means, then perhaps we are culpable. Despite the vital actuality you’ve been properly maintained under the most strict, if not secure, confidentiality.’
The Sphere hesitated, sensing authentic sincerity in Adama’s voice.
Definitely not an average characteristic one finds with a Cipherian.
Raising his head, Adama continued. ‘The only regrettable action, I fear, is falling on procuring the Little One, as upon your request.’
Yes, the Sphere acknowledged the obscure reference. The Little One was indeed imperative for our agenda, was he not?
As the beings commenced stirring again, Apolo sagely interrupted the conversation.
‘Lord Adama, Jake,’ he then bowed before the Sphere. ‘Sir, if I may.’ Summoning forth the cabinet, he made the arrivals doubt its purpose. ‘Though not exactly what you conceived,’ he presented the dubious gift to them. ‘Perhaps it might provide a temporal resolve towards our current predicament.’
Gingerly Adama approached the cabinet, raising his hand over its surface. Secretly his inquisitive mind wanted knowing exactly what Apolo was offering them. Though Paranormal in some aspects, Necromancy wasn’t exactly a practical solution. The cabinet itself was absolutely too compact for a biogenetic replicator. Also he knew Apolo had no logical means of acquiring the necessary ingredients needed for such an apparatus. Closing his eyes, Adama performed a psi-scan on the cabinet itself. Eyes snapping open, he became astonished with the unanticipated discovery.
Responding to Adama’s wishes, the cabinet’s top panel automatically slid open, revealing its fascinating contents. Deep within an enchanted slumber, the spitting image of Fanger was laying there peacefully.
Well, not quite.
This Fanger’s hair possessed a darker tone. His headband also had an entirely different scheme than the typical, multicoloured design. And the F-Clanscrest was sapphire rather than crimson. Overlooking these physical anomalies, his bioscent clearly identified the being’s genetic structure.
He was unequivocally Fangarian. Adama knew there was no question about it.
‘Apolo,’ he chillingly whispered, rustling the night shadows. ‘If this is an elaborate conjuration…’ his voice trailed, examining the being a bit more meticulously. Narrowing his eyes, they briefly crackled while orange mist softly escaped from his lips.
Establishing contact with the alternate Fanger, the mystic vapours immediately took effect. Even though they opened his eyes, the mists kept the being unaware of his surroundings. Adama’s serpentine pupils narrowed, eyes flaring with supernatural force. Simultaneously, the being’s eyes were emblazoned with azure energy.
‘CONTACT,’ their voices hauntingly echoed in unison.
From an observer’s perspective, it appeared as if Adama was conducting an extensive mind probe upon the alternate Fanger. Except Ian and Ayrian knew Adama never wasted his abilities for scanning one’s brain. Adama was performing something far more than just extracting information from the native’s mind.
Souls touching, Adama and the alternate-Fanger were exchanging each other’s experiences, thoughts, emotion, culture and personal history. They now knew everything about themselves, in relation to the Multiverse, and the world about them. They also were no longer conscious of the outside realm.
Peering into the unyielding darkness, the young man attempted obtaining his bearings. He wasn’t certain on how he ended up here. One minute he had been locked in a desperate battle over an extraordinary artefact, the next, he found himself in this infinite void. Considering what he had endured, the worst had entered his mind.
Am I dead? Vaguely recalling being assaulted by extremely powerful forces, his memory flashed brief shards of the recent events. Moments after he attempted accessing the artefact itself, as well as a warning from the other version of himself. Since he felt incredibly weak, it seemed the only logical conclusion.
‘No, Gari,’ a voice confirmed. ‘You’re not deceased, you’ve merely been rendered unconscious.’
Gari responded to its source. A visitor with blonde-hair and serpentine eyes materialised before him. Lupinian.. Cipher Lupiné… Not from this world.. Infinite questions flooded his mind about the enigmatic Wolf-Being. For one thing, he ascertained they had never met, but his mind was providing him detailed information as if he had known the visitor for ages. Though he desired launching a direct investigation, only one word managed to escape from Gari’s lips.
‘Adama..’
How he identified the Cipherian was also a mystery. But he perceived Adama wasn’t a threat.
‘Astute, Gari, I’d expect no less, but you must excuse my lack of protocol,’ he kneeled before him. ‘I am Lord Adamacam’belliandriomega.’ He raised his head. ‘My Clanstribe has arrived here to your world. Where I consider we might prove invaluable to you and your Clanstribes here.’
Gari heard this spiel before, suspecting Adama had other motives. But for now, Gari knew he wasn’t going anywhere. Thus, he found no reason why he shouldn’t listen to Adama’s proposal.
Getting up, Adama noticed Gari was having difficulty maintaining his balance. Apparently Gari had endured an intense psionic attack, but suspected Fanger wasn’t the culprit behind the malady.
‘You’re weak..’ Adama approached Gari, helping his guest stand up. ‘Here is an endowment from me.’
Before realising what Adama meant, Gari found himself in an amorous embrace with the Cipherian. Except the encounter had no romantic motives behind it. Sensations permeated Gari’s body, every fiber of his being felt instantly recharged, melting all fatigue and anxiety completely from his physique. The experience reminded him of being within a Revitalisation Chamber, but far much better, since Gari didn’t feel like he needed a nap afterwards. Adama expediently ceased the move as Gari discovered he was now standing without help.
Adama acknowledged Gari’s astonishment and bewilderment. The Cipherian admitted there was another way for administering the gift, but seriously doubted Gari would accede the alternative route. Gari actually didn’t care, since he was more amazed by the technique’s result.
‘How… how is this?’ Gari examined his hands, uncertain if Adama genuinely had restored his strength.
‘Shh…’ Adama went behind him, squeezing Gari’s shoulders. ‘This is merely a sample of what my Clanstribe can contribute to the Lupinians, and not exclusively of your own.’
Enthralled by these sensations, Gari pondered over the beneficial use of outsiders. Currently after his debacle with the artefact, he knew his Clanstribe wasn’t readily going to accept him back. Adding to the fact being a Lupinian here wasn’t the best thing to be in this land. Adama’s offer sounded enticing enough, but Gari recalled the last time he made a deal with the Devil.
‘Fangarius,’ Adama gently uttered. ‘I’ve witnessed, experienced and endured what your race has gone through since the illegitimate acquisition of your land. The Lupinians—especially the Fangarians—have been demeaned to a degree where they are no longer considered invaluable components of this region. Taking everything into account, the Cipher Lupiné can essentially tip the scales beneficially.’ He then whispered in Gari’s ear. ‘Without them even realising it.’
Definitely a provocative offer. Gari recalled many times he attempted such things, as well as other Clanstribe members as well, but to no avail. Either something overlooked would undo the plans, or the one behind it suddenly gained a conscience, not daring on shedding some blood for a worthy cause. Privately, Gari speculated on what the Cipher Lupiné provided which the others could not.
Adama simply stated the success dealt with one’s perspective and attitude. Currently, Gari’s shortcoming was he wanted these Tellurians to inexplicably suffer for their transgressions.
‘Though intriguing traits, retribution and spitefulness bear no profit to anyone. However, for a better satisfactory alternative, there is another perspective.’
‘What?’ Gari reluctantly wondered.
‘Reparation,’ Adama whispered. ‘Scanning your planet’s chronology, not once have the Tellurians paid you for this land, nor the innovations, you have offered them. Rather than make them pay, subtly acquire the land back.’
‘You mean take it?’ Gari incredulously stared at Adama. ‘But, Adama, we attempted this back in the 19th Century.’
Adama smiled. ‘Fangarius, you must comprehend. Tellurians are a simplistic lot. If you attempt conflicting upon their primitive level, you cannot succeed. Simply because you end up doing what is expected. Consequently, if you instead select a different method for your goals, you can perform tasks far beyond your limitations. By allowing us assistance, I guarantee, you will not only regain your status, and this land, but the same Tellurians who acquired it, will readily give it back to the Lupinians.’ He wryly smiled. ‘Of their own accord.’
Everything Adama was promising was sounding a bit too good to be true. Yet, Gari didn’t dismiss this possibly, considering he felt the irony was quite delicious. Having the Tellurians give the Lupinians back their land—willingly—appeared irresistibly appealing. As far as Gari recalled, when the Tellurians trespassed on their land, they acted as if they suddenly owned it, and promptly enslaved his people. Even after some laws came out abolishing the mistreatment, Gari knew the Tellurian government and treaties were nothing more than elaborate facades.
Adama had this mystique about him, however, making Gari somewhat wary. Though this Cipherian was not pulling the old soft-soap routine on him, Gari still felt something amiss. If experience taught him anything, it forewarned him about free lunches.
‘If I did accept,’ Gari slowly spoke. ‘What exactly would I sacrifice for you?’
‘Nothing, Strong One,’ Adama stroked Gari’s cheek. ‘An alliance means for both parties to equally function together, perform as a team towards an essential goal. However, since you’ve granted me your time, Fangarius, I shall not deceive you.’
Here it comes, he expected the hidden strings immediately.
‘The only compensation the Cipher Lupiné requires is, complete acknowledgement by the Lupinians. And permission on conducting our experiments undisturbed.’
‘Experiments?’ Gari reluctantly hesitated. ‘What sort of experiments, Adama?’
‘Let us say, they’ll definitely balance the ratio between Tellurian and Lupinians rather considerably.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘One leaning towards the Clanstribes favour.’
Adama continued stating in return he’d educate Gari. Specifically, on how he could efficiently deal with the Tellurians, while regaining the regal status for the Lupinian Clanstribes. In fact, Adama claimed the Cipher Lupiné would also offer a unique militaristic ally’s services as well, if Gari accepted.
Listening carefully to Adama’s words, Gari now comprehended what the Cipherian had meant earlier about a different perspective. ‘Reparation..’
Gari wasted no time accepting Adama’s offer. He shook Adama’s hand, only to have Adama pull him close. Once again, Adama embraced the alternative Fangarian, except this time with more intensity. The last thing Gari recalled was Adama enjoying the experience with a soft moan of delight.
Although hours transpired in the mindscape, only several minutes had passed in the RealDimension. Adama blinked, then smiled at the slumbering Gari.
‘Rest, Strong One,’ he gently stroked the being’s cheek. ‘Upon awakening, you shall accept us, and we shall assist you and the Clanstribes here. This I promise to my Sha’Kalin.’
Ian almost lost his composure upon Adama’s statement. Adama, on the other hand, calmly continued with the business at hand. Closing the cabinet, he first congratulated Apolo.
‘I comprehend why Ayrian selected you, Apolo. Your resourcefulness is quite inestimable.’
‘Thank you, Lord Adama,’ Apolo bowed.
‘Speaking of compensation,’ Adama detached something from his belt. It was a phial containing a milky substance. Holding it up to the Sphere, he admitted it was for them. ‘As an act of unconditional faith. Your faction might consider this rather invaluable.’
What do you require this time, Adama? The Sphere knew Adama simply wouldn’t give something for nothing. Especially when it was something of incredible significance.
‘Just some information pertaining to The Doctor’s Chronology,’ he admitted. ‘Second Incarnation, Earth Date, 1970.’ Dematerialising the phial from him, the Sphere fed the payment into his mind.
Acknowledging Ian’s disdain, Adama focused his attention towards his relation. ‘Ian, my Primlan, do not criticize my judgment, I sense you’ve established some alliances as well.’
‘Indeed he has,’ a man dressed within a dark overcoat stepped from the shadows. ‘Who exactly did you think assisted Apolo?’ Smiling at the Cipherian, he resembled the Time Agent which had given Adama trouble. Except as Adama figured out, if Gari was an alternate version of Fanger, so was this man. ‘Besides, haven’t you forgotten someone, Lord Adama?’
Another maelstrom filled the air, followed by an explosion of iridescent light.
Dark-hair, now long and unkempt, the figure was Cillian. Under regular circumstances, the Ancient might’ve taken his wrath upon everyone. But instead, he simply smiled, enjoying his own private joke.
‘Efficient as always, aren’t you, Adama?’ He slowly rose, inspecting the scene approvingly. ‘Major, I apologise for the delay, but you know, things happen.’ Sniffing the air, he flicked his tail. ‘Rather backwards, but it’ll do. Stupid Fandraelian, did he really think he was condemning us here?’ Eyes flickering with power, he hesitated. ‘Damn, most of my powers are still sealed, however,’ Cillian gazed at Ian. ‘It doesn’t mean I can’t contribute. Ian, you’ve subtly interacted with the natives, have you not?’
‘Yes, Lord Cillian,’ Ian slowly spoke, wondering what the Ancient was up to. ‘Which one of these beings intrigues you?’
‘Lumic..’ The name apparently contained some, unambiguous significance to the Ancient. ‘John Lumic… I require essential BioData on him.’ Cillian vaguely recalled a Lumic, and was certain Fanger, Adama and the rest of their motley crew weren’t the only unexpected visitors to Earth-G. ‘He may have certain possibilities.’
‘Agreed,’ Adama nodded to Ian. ‘Comply with Lord Cillian’s request.’ He scanned the area with great approval. ‘Gentlemen, we’ve wasted far than enough time here. We commence with the preparations for reviving our project, and resuming residence here. Let us depart.’
Everyone promptly left the marshland, heading back into the city. Before following them, Adama turned once more, peering up into space.
‘Cillian is correct, Fandraeli,’ he icily smiled. ‘You’ve only delayed the inevitable. Eventually, I shall bring The Doctor back here.’ He diverted his attention back towards the atmosphere. ‘As well as Fangarius himself. For I shall have the Little One, and the Ca’Telur Project will ultimately bear fruit.’
On that note, the Cipherian followed, leaving the marshland peaceful once again.
CHRONOSPACE CO-ORDINATES: London, England – Temporal Nexus Point Earth-G
CHRONOLOGICAL TELLURIAN DATE: October 16th, 2007; 7:00 pm.
‘No,’ he disapprovingly shook his head. Touching his belt buckle, he transformed his outfit into a dark-blue suit. ‘Much better,’ he adjusted his cuffs, flicking his tail approvingly. ‘So.. Harrison,’ he slowly uttered. ‘You married Diane and had children.’ Of course, there was only one offspring focused upon his mind. ‘Did you think I’d not know the truth?’
Locating the central podium, he casually waved his hands over the controls. Mauve, digital streams instantly poured throughout the room, illuminating it with ethereal force. Approvingly smiling at his handiwork, he was astonished his complex was still completely operational.
‘Enjoying your newly-acquired liberty, I see,’ Cillian materialised, acknowledging the elaborate setup. ‘Rather intrigued Gari, nor Adama, know about this place.’
‘Essentially nobody does,’ he quipped, not once diverting his attention from the far wall. ‘Otherwise, it wouldn’t be here, now, wouldn’t it?’
Amidst the digital realm, lightning danced about the far end of the room. Producing an energy cylinder, the man began operating the holographic controls before him. Extracting and manipulating the images before him, he conjured forth a series of symbols. Cillian realised the man had been far from dormant since his initial release. Even more startling was when the man revealed what was behind the electric cylinder. Encapsulated within was a figure. Indistinct, featureless, it gave the illusion the man had ensnared a living mannequin. But the bioscent indicated the being inside was once an existing being. The man didn’t hesitate identifying what it once was before.
‘Kardall,’ he slowly spoke, fangs slightly clenched. ‘He attempted betraying me to the ParaCouncil. Extremely naughty, wouldn’t you say?’
Cillian nervously observed the living mannequin.
‘Cillian,’ the man’s eyes moved towards the Ancient. ‘How exactly did you and Adama locate me?’
Cillian recognised the man’s tone, realising he’d better select his next words carefully. But the man returned his focus back upon the opaque being before him. Secretly he really didn’t care how the Ancient and Cipherian had flushed him out. After all, if they hadn’t, their plan with The Doctor and Rose would’ve never come to fruition. And he’d still remain imprisoned by his own devices. Speaking of which, he touched several series of holographic symbols. Instantaneously, several fob watches appeared, in various colours, bearing different symbols.
‘Ah,’ he deftly plucked the ginger-platinum one from the collection. ‘I thought I’d almost misplaced you.’ Extending out his left arm, he summoned a peculiar device while holding the fob watch at fore. Aiming it towards the featureless being, he automatically opened the watch. Expelling mystic forces, the watch began its work upon the figure. While the man uttered an obscure incantation, the energy began sculpting the figure earnestly.
Cillian observed the process with rapt fascination. First came the blonde-hair, next the muscular frame, facial features and finally the outfit. Not quite what the Ancient was expecting: the newly-created being wore a black skin suit, gray hoodie and possessed liquid-metal gauntlets and silver boots. The being also sported a Wolf’s tail. The process swiftly ended, just as it had commenced, where the fob watch automatically closed.
‘Yes,’ Cillian recalled the man’s unique innovation. ‘Quite better than a Transcendental Molecular Transference Spell, isn’t it?’
The man ignored the Ancient’s remark as he observed the transformed being. Opening its eyes, the being revealed having hazel. Except instead of round pupil, they were slits, almost serpentine. Memories flooded back as he instantly recognised the man.
‘Trent..’
‘Welcome back,’ Trent replaced the fob watch back into his collection. ‘I told you I’d bring you back, C’el Kinet, you should trust me more.’
C’el attempted moving from his spot, but disoriented from the effects, he nearly stumbled.
‘Careful, Mon Ami,’ Trent began operating more holographic controls. ‘Just need to stabilise your biogenetic form.’
Polychromatic force pulsed over C’el as he felt his strength return. Flexing his muscles, he wondered how Trent managed performing his revival without getting caught.
‘Gallifrey’s gone,’ Trent flatly stated. ‘At least from what Cillian’s informed me.’
‘Afraid it’s true, Mr. Kinet,’ Cillian adjusted his shades. ‘The imbecilic Time Lords got into it with the Daleks, I’m afraid.’
Before C’el reacted, Trent promptly stared directly into his associate’s eyes. Instantaneously, lost memories of Past, Present and Future surged through C’el’s mind. From Salerion’s mad schemes with La Genèse, to the mechanisations of the Elysians and the Cal’Del. More knowledge was transferring between Trent and him than one could acquire from all the databases and libraries combined. Every event since their sentence returned to C’el, as well as the more recent actions leading up to now.
‘So,’ C’el ended the transmission, taking in the infodata his mind had received. ‘You were correct about our Homeworld. Yet..’ He narrowed his eyes towards Cillian. ‘The Doctor and the Little One have survived, have they not?’
‘Quite.’ Trent closed his eyes. ‘Of course, while the Time Lord participated, the Little One was safely kept out of the fray.’
‘Indeed.’ C’el promptly accessed Cillian’s mind, acquiring the knowledge about the Ca’Telur Project. As well as what they had in store for this world. Regaining his full-strength, C’el scowled towards the fact Adama and the Cipherians were involved as well. Though he knew they were more responsible for the Ca’Telur Project than the Cal’Del were, he still didn’t fancy the concept of their alliance.
‘That’s right,’ Cillian purred, twisting the knife. ‘You Locanshites aren’t too keen on the Cipherians, are you?’
‘I tolerate them,’ C’el seemed more concerned with other knowledge he extracted from the Ancient. ‘Still, do you consider it wise for Ayrian to deal with the Little One?’
Trent raised an eyebrow. ‘Jealous, are we, C’el?’
‘Not at all,’ he dismissively spoke while gingerly stepping from the cylinder area. ‘But we both know Fangarius isn’t someone you underestimate.’
‘Indeed.’ Trent pondered over C’el’s trepidation. Normally C’el was unquestionably loyal, helping the Cal’Del implement their plans whenever the occasion had arisen. However, when it came to Fanger, Trent sensed it was a different story.
Flexing his muscles, C’el swiftly explained just because Fanger was currently impaired, it didn’t mean the Paranormal Time Lord was completely ignorant. Despite Ayrian’s unique abilities, C’el detected Fanger would eventually figure it out. Then he added another factor towards both Cillian and Trent.
‘Can you easily trust the Cipherians and Ayrian keep their end of the agreement?’ He promptly noted. ‘For like the Daleks, how can you ensure they won’t betray us once Fangarius is.. secured?’
Before Trent or Cillian answered, strange forces appeared from behind. A dark silhouette materialised. Its contour possessing a familiar shape, it shimmered as it spoke.
‘Trent, Cillian, I’d heed Mr. Kinet’s doubt. Though I think the plan’s going smashingly well. Well, exceptionally well, with all things considering. It’s best you’d keep a close eye on your Cipherian allies. After all, they did betray the Daleks outright.’ He hesitated in midthought. ‘Then again, who hasn’t, eh?’
Cillian frowned. Deep down, he never comprehended why he had allied himself with this outsider. Secretly he felt Trent and himself could easily take over this part of their plan without this being’s assistance. After all, the Cipherians were logically simplistic, and the Ca’Telur Project was rather straightforward. Fangarius was merely icing on the cake.
The mysterious figure, on the other hand, considered the Paranormal Time Lord essentially vital in their work. Especially now there was an absolute certainty no Time Lords dared interfere. Except for the possibility of one. And he had already unwittingly helped them with their plan like clockwork.
‘C’el Kinet’s not only your best member,’ the figure flatly indicated. ‘But also your wisest, is he not?’
As winter solstice arrived in London, the azure moon slowly peered over the horizon. Rose Tyler stood there observing it from her balcony as Big Ben chimed the hour. Though the magnificent tower, with its regal countenance and elegant clock face, had given her some comfort, she knew it wasn’t exactly the famous tower she once was acquainted with before.
Nor was this the London she was once raised in.
This realm was a different place. A completely different Earth.
Not like the one Rose had grown up on. One where she knew who her friends were, her family, and most importantly, the one person who had changed her drab existence into something meaningful and exciting.
A strange man who called himself The Doctor.
Recalling the first time they had met, Rose had been performing the daily routine as she usually did. Got up out of bed, stopped by to see Mickey, then went to the shops for her long shift. Never had she imagined while taking up the nightly deposit for the maintenance crew to secure, she’d be running for her life. Nor having a man inform her the maintenance guy was dead, murdered by plastic, she vaguely recalled.
The next thing she knew, she met The Doctor, traveled inside a multidimensional police box, and saved the planet from living plastic. Afterwards her life was never quite the same since then. Rose had experienced adventures through Earth’s ages to the farthest reaches of the Universe.
But nothing had prepared her for the next astonishing occurrence. The Doctor changing his physical form. After their encounter with The Daleks and their Emperor, Rose had persuaded the TARDIS in taking her back to rescue him. Consequently, in order to do so, she risked her life by staring directly into the Heart of the TARDIS itself, accessing the unlimited forces of the Vortex. The Doctor managed extracting the corrosive energies from Rose’s body after she had successfully dispatched the Daleks. That much she did remember.
The next thing she realised, the Time Lord acted as if he was leaving her. Before she comprehended his meaning, there came an intense flash, and a stranger where The Doctor—her Doctor—had once stood. Naturally, Rose presumed someone had implemented a transmat device for kidnapping The Doctor, until the man admitted he was indeed the Time Lord. That’s when she had obtained a crash course upon what Time Lords denote as Regeneration.
Nonetheless, Rose became quite accustomed with this new Doctor, and their travels had resumed as usual.
But as The Doctor had once warned her, nothing is forever. And her journeys had immediately come to an abrupt end.
It started one day when Jackie had called her. Her mum was going on about a special visitor coming in to see her and she wanted Rose and The Doctor to meet him. As they arrived back in present-day London, Rose pondered over whom it could be. For the time last time Jackie had gotten a ‘special visitor,’ it was a young man name Elton Pope, who was looking for The Doctor. And privately, The Doctor had mentioned something odd, hoping his ‘godchild’ hadn’t awakened and decided to pay Ms. Tyler a visit.
Whatever the case, when they had arrived back at the flat, Rose was stunned seeing her mum busily preparing the table and getting ready for company. Even more disturbing was when Jackie had claimed her father was coming to visit. Rose knew Granddad Prentice had been dead for over a decade, while The Doctor had bitterly uttered an unknown phrase under his breath.
‘FANGARIUS…’
Strangely enough, however, when they witnessed the faint humanoid image materialise before them, Rose noticed The Doctor bore a look of embarrassment. As if he had accidentally accused someone of performing some wrong doing. Meanwhile, Jackie had explained these visitations had been occurring over several months, and apparently it was happening nationwide.
Naturally The Doctor had immediately gotten to the bottom of things. He discovered the Torchwood Institute was behind the supernatural mess.
‘Ah,’ a voice softly spoke. ‘Torchwood. Yes, well, Ms. Hartman had a lot to answer for.’
Rose noticed the moonlight fall against the young man. Brown-eyes gazing up towards the blue moon, he appeared to be in his late-twenties/early-thirties. Soft, cool breezes gently blew the stands from his multicoloured headband, while his brown hair slightly moved. His wardrobe appeared normal enough: blue shirt, dark sweater, slacks and black plimsolls. However, Rose recognised the crimson F-Symbol upon the man’s sweater. It was exactly like the one on the door she found once inside the TARDIS. She then realised the man also knew The Doctor very well. But how, she never had known, until Rose once slipped inside his private room.
Like Jackie, Rose couldn’t help wonder were all The Doctor’s people so young? For the man who spoke was extremely handsome. Almost reminded her and Jackie of that guy who once starred on the sitcom about the Seventies. Then later had a series on MTV, where he secretly played pranks on celebrities. Except this one seemed rather different.
Although the figure seemed human enough, Rose noted—like The Doctor—he possessed extraordinary attributes as well.
‘Bad enough I learned what happened to you and The Doctor while I was out of commission,’ he flicked his tail. ‘But then having to summon my Uncle Keanu to de-cyberise our Ms. Hartman.’ A devilish smile came over the man. ‘Perhaps we should’ve changed her into Mary Hartman for awhile.’
Rose absolutely had no idea upon whom he was referring to, but it didn’t prevent her from enjoying his private joke.
‘Can you imagine?’ He continued while examining the evening sky. ‘Torchwood Institute being led by a neurotic, red-haired, pigtail woman.’ He amusedly envisioned the thought. ‘Probably conduct an investigation behind the planet’s waxy build-up.’
‘Yes,’ Rose started giggling. ‘They discover the planet under threat by the Swifferians.’
‘Ah, yes,’ the man added. ‘The infamous race bent on plaguing the world with waxy build-up and dusty shelves.’ He then spoke in a mocking, announcer tone. ‘Torchwood must stop the Swifferians!’ Then resumed his own voice. ‘The Doctor and I would do it, but he doesn’t do windows, and I’m fresh out of Mop & Glo.’
‘You’re terrible,’ Rose broke out laughing. Something she hadn’t done in ages, not after she and The Doctor had parted ways. ,For once, she really enjoyed having a good laugh.
‘Not really,’ he facetiously crinkled his nose. ‘Tho’ I’m a bit of a stinker at times.’
Silver zeppelins gently made their way along the cosmic sea. The man observed them with great interest. Like a child witnessing an event beyond all imagination, he seemed enchanted with the airships. From his own personal observations, these forgotten voyagers were existing proof there were a few items technology didn’t need improvement. In fact, the man considered such improvements were usually more of a downgrade at times.
‘Hindenburg.’ He obscurely spoke, watching the ships go by.
‘That’s a funny thing to say,’ Mickey joined the man’s observation. ‘Considering here the disaster never really happened here.’
‘Actually, Mick,’ the man kept his attention upon the crafts. ‘It did, but unlike our Earth, they had the foresight in doing a test run beforehand.’ Then a forgotten detail reached his mind. ‘Nor here did they concern themselves over politics, nor economics, upon the matter.’
‘Pardon?’ Rose and Mickey weren’t quite certain what the man was going on about.
‘On our Earth, many historians claim the Hindenburg Disaster was solely a covert, political operation. But they’re wrong, it was more of an economical standpoint.’
Sensing their puzzled expressions, the man decided on explaining his cryptic note.
‘On a technological scale, zeppelins have no internal guidance tracking systems, sophisticated navigational equipment, nor efficient self-stabilisers.’ He frowned a bit. ‘But like he VHS tape, they were the more commonly-preferred method for air travel over planes.’
Rose and Mickey definitely understood what the man was explaining to them. In order to cheer her up after being first separated from The Doctor, her adopted father, Pete, had taken her and Mickey on-board the Cybus Industries zeppelin. It was unlike any experience they had ever felt in their life. Of course, it was nothing compared to visiting other worlds, and different times, with The Doctor, but it still was an enchanting ride. Unlike standard airline flights, where all one does is sit in their seat, either go to sleep, eat, or watch the in-flight meals while waiting to reach one point to another, riding a zeppelin was almost like riding a cruise ship in mid-air.
She now wondered why their planet did away with them, whereas Mickey pondered on why some desired living in them, as with the late, John Lumic. The man claimed many great innovations usually fell victim to similar circumstances.
‘Economics,’ he re-emphasized. ‘Gives the illusion whether something has value or not to society. The rich favoured them because one could fashion zeppelins as their own castle-in-the-air. Whereas the airlines hated them simply because these crafts had more to offer than just expedience and efficiency.’
‘Same as the oil companies, I suppose?’ Mickey inquired.
The man nodded while still observing the vessels. ‘Exactly. Why do you think your combustible engine hasn’t been improved, nor simply outdated?’ He speculated the reasoning behind corporate societies. ‘The oil companies fear if it occurs, they’d be wiped out. Out-of-business. Same with the zeppelin. The airline corporate didn’t like how it was eating into their profits.’
‘Shame,’ Rose hated the greed factor. She had encountered infinite worlds of beauty and wonder. Except they were usually marred by someone who felt they could earn a bit o’ quid from it. Thus, if things turned out unprofitable by their means, they’d waste no time destroying it. In a way, the man was definitely like The Doctor.
‘Miss him, don’t you?’ The man sensed her thoughts, despite the fact he was trying not to pry.
Mickey snorted. But it was understandable. The man perceived The Doctor didn’t always do well with every person. In fact, he recalled Ian Chesterton and The Doctor had seemed to bicker about everything.
‘Yes,’ Rose softly spoke.
‘Apologies,’ he went over and hugged her and Mickey. ‘I know that’s the last thing you two want to think about.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I swear, that man.. first leaves my cousin high and dry on Earth, now this.’
They couldn’t help but smile towards the man’s mockingly sarcastic tone.
‘No,’ Rose replied. ‘It’s not your fault,’ she noticed the man’s hands were rather gentle. Even if they appeared dark with fingertip claws. ‘It’s hard believing everything went so fast. One minute I’m traveling with a man in a police box to world and places unknown, the next..’
‘Everything resumes back to normal?’ The man noticed Mickey’s odd expression while scanning about the place. ‘Well, okay, as normal as one might expect.’ He observed the zeppelins once more. ‘Of course, nothing’s really over, y’know,’ he spoke from experience. ‘Adventure’s what one makes of life itself.’ Sighing, he wondered why he and The Doctor were always facing escapades at every step. ‘Tho’ I do wish one can get some vacation time between adventures.’
Secretly the man wanted everything coming to a temporal halt. Disoriented from the past two weeks, he really needed some rest, and possibly regain his bearings on the situation. Currently he felt as if he had been ensnared by a maelstrom with no means of escape.
One essential component was attempting deciphering this conundrum without spoiling Rose and Mickey’s view of The Doctor. Well, at least Rose’s anyway. Recalling how his cousin, Sarah Jane Smith, had a hard time coping with the Time Lord’s abrupt departure, he realised Rose and Mickey might misinterpret the man’s unusual arrival.
Particularly with Rose. Shortly after The Doctor had delivered his goodbye message, a mysterious woman had appeared. Although transparent, the visitor was beautiful and compassionate, since she appeared comforting Rose about the sudden departure. Mickey, however, was quite apprehensive of the figure. Of course, the man comprehended Mickey’s behaviour reasonable. Usually when one traveled with him or The Doctor, one normally realised things were not always what they seemed.
Especially when the woman gave Rose an intriguing gift: a jade music box with a ruby setting on top. Mickey feared she had received a fancy Pandora’s box. But Rose noticed it didn’t open up like your average music box, and the woman alleviated Mickey’s discern.
She informed them whenever they found themselves in serious trouble, the gift would summon help. But only if they were genuinely in peril, and no other moment. Therefore, Rose and Mickey discovered it strange for it suddenly opening after the woman had vanished.
And that’s how their new friend came to be here.
Technically…
Rose and Mickey knew he didn’t exactly come as is upon arrival. Nonetheless, he was here now, and was rather concerned with this place in particular. Especially since he knew her, Mickey and The Doctor had ended up here.
She really didn’t like reviving the subject, but she knew Mickey might rudely begin cross-examining the man again. Also her curiosity was getting the better of her.
‘How did you know we’d end up here?’
‘Well, let’s say I suspected as much,’ he reached inside his jacket pocket. Extracting a dubious wire, he showed it to Rose and Mickey. ‘And this rather confirmed those suspicions.’ It looked frayed and burnt out in the middle. ‘Found this while repairing the TARDIS.’
They both blankly stared at the component, but deduced it was something vital to The Doctor’s machine.
‘What is it?’ Mickey nervously inquired.
‘CVE Differentiator.’ The man identified.
‘CV..?’ Rose wasn’t sure if The Doctor had mentioned this part before.
‘Charged Vacuum Emboitment,’ he explained, staring inquisitively at the wire. ‘Unlike what The Doctor said, think of them like invisible gateways through the Void itself. They connect our Universes, keeping our realities from burning up.’
‘The Entropic Effect,’ Mickey recalled reading the theory online. ‘So,’ he pointed at the wire. ‘That part allows the TARDIS to travel between Universes, eh?’
‘In a manner of speaking,’ he was impressed with Mickey’s knowledge. ‘Basically think of it as sort of an alternator for TARDISes. The CVE Differentiator allows a TARDIS to convert different Vortex energies into the appropriate force needed for powering it. As you can see, someone sabotaged this one.’
‘Sabo..’ Rose and Mickey looked at each other.
‘Suspected when Doc had Mickey press on that control,’ the man admitted. ‘Once operational, the CVE Differentiator goes into automatic drive.’
Mickey fumed. ‘I knew he was havin’ me on,’ a thought then occurred. ‘Wait. You don’t think while we were fightin’ with those pterodactyl blokes…’
The man shook his head. ‘No,’ he studied the damage. ‘If anyone tried physically messing with it, they’d experience a nasty demolecularising shock. Whoever did this replaced the Differentiator with a faulty one.’
Mickey feared the damaged circuit could’ve destroyed them, but the man indicated they were safe.
‘They ensured it’d cut out the moment the TARDIS entered the Multiverse.’ The man frowned once again. ‘But they were taking an incredible risk, considering you’d end up here would be about 2.57 billion to 1 against.’
Rose and Mickey perceived the man was every bit as clever as The Doctor. Sure he appeared eccentric, did things irrationally, but when the chips were down, he came through in a pinch. Apparently the man knew everything which had occurred with Rose and The Doctor from Day One. He also suspected something had been amiss about their previous travels. Specifically during their escapade on Satellite Five (aka GameStation) with the Daleks. The man essentially had made the exact claim The Doctor had about the situation. Someone had been purposely manipulating Time, not to mention attempting on killing The Doctor in the process. In fact, Rose noticed several adventures were a bit on the life-threatening side. As well as Mickey, recalling how they were nearly dissected by the Clockwork Robots.
Rose also recalled being transformed into stone in Ancient Rome. All because some futuristic lifeform had the ability for granting anyone’s greatest desire. But not without a price. The man wryly smiled, claiming the lifeform—GENIE—had become the basis for D’jinn and Genies.
‘Doubt Hadji himself would’ve accepted a Genet Dragon-Platypus as the original Genie,’ he grinned, then stopped. ‘Hmm…’
Mickey and Rose found themselves smiling again. ‘What?’
‘Genie, Genetics.. never noticed the similarities there. Interesting, isn’t it?’
‘Oh,’ a young man stepped outside. ‘Hope I’m not interrupting anything?’
‘No,’ the man swiftly replaced the wire back into his pocket. ‘Just observing the night sky, Adam.’
Blonde-haired, the new visitor wore a striped shirt and blue sweater and dark slacks. As with the other man, Adam also possessed wolfish attributes. Except unlike the group outside, he was a native of this world. Or so he claimed.
‘For a minute, I thought you were trying to avoid us,’ Adam noted. ‘Considering what’s been going on so far.’
‘No,’ the man sighed, ‘just taking a brief break.’ Secretly he wondered about Adam’s identity, since he seemed a bit too eager for helping him with this dilemma.
‘You know,’ Mickey asked. ‘I never asked, mate, but..’ he hesitated, staring at the man. ‘Are you an’ The Doc criminals?’
‘Mickey!’ Rose hissed, while Adama inquisitively raised an eyebrow.
‘It’s all right,’ the man sensed the possibility might have come up. Though Rose had travelled extensively with The Doctor, she also speculated if the Time Lord was on the run from something other than his own people. Even the man here was a bit pensive whenever he thought about Gallifrey. Despite the fact the man was also Gallifreyan, like The Doctor, he actually came from another race on the planet altogether.
Yet, since it wasn’t the first time he and The Doctor had been asked this question.
‘Only in the eyes of the High Council.. Time Lords.. I mean,’ he stated. Before Rose and Mickey responded, he continued, ‘Rose, you recall when you first met The Doctor?’
Indeed she had. What a rollercoaster ride that was! Never in her wildest nightmares had she imagined the horror and fascination behind the adventure. Then again, she and Mickey doubted anyone believed living plastic was residing underneath the London sewers, using the London Eye Wheel as a sophisticated transmitter for launching an invasion of mannequins.
‘Ever wonder why a strange being shows so much concern over another planet?’ The man somberly noted.
Rose and Mickey had never really considered it before, but they knew the man was correct. Why did The Doctor care for other races? Technically, if he had wanted, the Time Lord could’ve simply let the Nestene Consciousness (as she later discovered what the living plastic was officially called) overrun the planet. Furthermore, if not for Gallifrey’s destruction, The Doctor didn’t have to save Earth (or other planets) from invaders.
‘Exactly, you see, guys,’ the man noted. ‘We don’t have to interfere, we want to. Whereas the Time Lords’ philosophy was, unless it affects us, not our problem. The Doctor and I simply never cottoned upon their way of thinking.’ He scanned the skies once more. ‘Course, I got it a bit worse than The Doctor for my views.’
The realisation both dawned on them. However, while Rose and Mickey stared disbelievingly at the man, Adam had appeared nonchalant.
‘Because you’re a Wolf-Being..’ Rose then forgot Adam was essentially one as well, but the words had escaped her lips before her brain could sufficiently warn her in time. Yet, Adam didn’t appear too concerned with her statement. Although she had now felt guilty about the message ‘Bad Wolf,’ she had enigmatically sent to herself and The Doctor as a warning.
The man knew Rose had meant no harm by it. In fact, he suspected the ‘bad wolf’ might referred to another Clanstribe member. Possibly Salerion.
‘Salerion,’ Adam spoke as if he was recalling a forgotten memory. ‘Was that not the reason you were here before?’
‘In a manner of speaking.’
The man hardly realised two decades had passed here. Why didn’t he pay better attention towards his premonitions? Yet, as with all things, Time was relative. And his relations were always giving him a time as well. Case in point, Salerion had developed this mad scheme for dominating the Multiverse. By doing so, Salerion had gone under the misconception it would restore the Clanstribes back into their proper status. Even if the Clanstribes wanted it or not. Inexplicably, Salerion had even gone as far as performing some genetic programming with the man’s DNA. Something where the man would develop and produce a remarkable invention for Salerion’s TARDIS.
‘What?’ Mickey hesitated at the man’s tale. ‘You mean this Salerion’s TARDIS was actually bigger than a planet?’ Knowing how spacious The Doctor’s TARDIS interior was, he and Rose feared how immense Salerion’s TARDIS might be compared to the Time Lord’s craft.
‘Yes, ‘fraid so,’ the man explained such a vast vessel had required astronomical energy. ‘If you tried using conventional methods, you’d end up wiping out about several galaxies or so. Which is why Salerion wanted me to create this.’ Opening his palm, he produced a holographic image of a perfectly-shaped hourglass. Shimmering with multicoloured force, it appeared as if was composed of liquid metal. ‘The Chronocosmizcon. A renewable power source for TARDISes. Just installed one in The Doctor’s.’ He proudly admitted. ‘And I have one in mine as well.’
‘So you made this for him?’ Rose speculated if the man was still benevolent as The Doctor.
‘Not exactly,’ the man somberly admitted. ‘Salerion had deceived me into believing I was creating this as a means for benefiting the Time Lords.’ Recollecting the project had taken him Seven Incarnates with its creation, the man seemed amazed with the device’s completion. ‘Every time I came a bit closer to its completion, something kept me placing it on the backburners.’
‘Maybe you sensed Salerion’s true purpose?’ Adam suggested.
‘Perhaps.’ The man’s voice trailed off slightly. ‘But one thing’s for certain. I was expediently captured and sent directly to Salerion once The Chronocosmizcon was created.’
The tale continued where the man had discovered Salerion’s TARDIS, La Genèse, had adversely affected the Multiverse. Witnessing its destructive force, the man had desperately ceased La Genèse’s function by ripping out the Chronocosmizcon from the transdimensional interface energy grid. Back then, he was in his Seventh Incarnation, and a different person. Regrettably escape had not come so easily for him. First off, even though the man had disabled the vessel, Salerion had still managed to assault his TARDIS. Heavily damaged from the attack, the transdimensional craft had managed on making it to Earth, in the year 2000.
Unfortunately, battered wildly about from the onslaught, the man was forced into his Eighth Incarnation. Of course, the rest was a bit convoluted since the last thing he recalled was awakening with some others at The End of Time.
‘So,’ Mickey smiled weakly. ‘Guess you kept him from conquering the Time Lords, eh?’
Rose privately knew nothing was ever easily solved whenever you dealt with The Doctor. And obviously, the man was no exception.
‘Not quite, Mick,’ he confessed. ‘Salerion was a bit pissed with me.’
‘Took his wrath out on you?’ Adam inquired.
‘Used a makeshift Timescoop for capturing not only my Past selves, but The Doctor’s as well.’
Both Rose and Mickey incredulously stared at the man. Though Rose had witnessed it firsthand, Mickey knew about The Doctor being able to regenerate. After all, one minute he was a brooding git, the next an intrusive, overbearing git. Neither imagined the possibility of other forms beyond the two they had encountered. Nonetheless, the man had given them an astonishing revelation about the Time Lord.
‘At the time,’ he calculated. ‘I believe The Doctor was in his Eighth Incarnation.’
Rose and Mickey almost performed a double-take. ‘You mean… there were eight of him?’ Mickey wasn’t sure he could ever handle that many versions of The Doctor.
‘Well, no..’ the man admitted, as Rose sighed with some relief. ‘From what y’all told me, guys, The Doc’s in his Tenth Incarnation.’
‘Wait,’ Mickey still failed processing the reality of the conversation. ‘You’re tellin’ us there are ten of this bloke floatin’ about the Universe?’
‘Hey, there’s nine of me,’ he readily disclosed. ‘Not to worry, we don’t conglomerate..’ he stopped slightly in midthought. ‘Unless something’s gone critical with Time itself.’
‘ ‘ere!’ Another voice called out. ‘What’re you doing out there?’
Rose recognised her mum, Jackie’s, voice. She felt guilty because they were supposed to be helping set the table for dinner.
‘All right, Ms. Tyler,’ the man responded while Rose regained her composure, Mickey stifled a smile and Adam made a stealthy retreat back inside. ‘Rose, Mick and I were observing the evening view. Talking about this and that. Not much of that, than more of this.’
Jacqueline Tyler, now three months pregnant, calmly stepped out into the balcony. ‘Now, Fanger, none of your shenanigans. You know you and Rose are supposed to be settin’ the table.’
Fanger detected the fragrance wafting from the kitchen. ‘Hmm.. Roast Beef.. Mashed Potatoes..’
‘We’re eating light tonight,’ she explained. ‘Pete and the guys want a word after dinner. And them plates aren’t going to set themselves. And call me “Jackie.”’
Fanger contemptuously smiled, almost crinkling his nose. ‘Y’know, Jackie, they could, if you wanted.’
‘Fangarius Ot Genoa!’ Jackie protested. ‘You and Rose will set them plates normally! I’m not going to have my good china an’ dinnerware flyin’ about, freakin’ out th’ neighbours, is that clear?’
Rose attempted not to smile, wanting to indicate they now lived in a private residence than a block of flats. But tactfully decided on not incurring her mother’s wrath.
‘All right, all right,’ Fanger apologised, ‘just a suggestion.’ He then noticed the blonde/orange-haired man, dressed in blue sweater with orange F-Clanscrest, and headband standing in the doorway. Arms folded, he appeared quite smug at the moment. ‘Sendrai,’ he addressed him. ‘I really appreciate you telling them my full name, I just wanted you to know.’
‘Hey, you’re the one who made the suggestion,’ Sendrai noted.
Fanger glanced at Jackie, Mickey, then at Rose. Anger melted into humorous smiles as he led them back inside.
‘Best set the table, folks, before the guys start eating with their hands, messing up a perfectly good dining room.’
‘Fanger, you’re terrible,’ Jackie playfully hit him on the chest.
‘Not really, Mum,’ Rose smiled. ‘I’ve good authority he can be a bit o a stinker at times.’
Secretly Rose perceived this was Fanger. The Ninth Fanger. Whereas The Doctor she currently knew was officially the Tenth Doctor.
Although he wasn’t here, unusual things were once more occurring.
But neither did she, or Fanger realise other events were brewing in their own, original Universe.
CHRONOSPACE CO-ORDINATES: Galveston Bay, Texas, USA – TNP Earth-Prime
CHRONOLOGICAL TELLURIAN DATE: October 3rd, 2007; 10:15 pm.
Amidst the holographic grid network, the sapphire-haired figure meticulously studied the complex equations speeding about him. PsiVirtua visor illuminating brightly, translated the calculations and encoded infodata materialising before him. Exceptionally well-built, the topless figure’s muscles flexed accordingly as he continued accessing the necessary infodata. His WristComp’s built-in screen had extended its fiber optic connections with one of the network’s consoles. It appeared more as living tendrils attaching themselves to it, than sophisticated wires linked directly with a machine.
Sliding his forefingers over the ethereal pad, he gently twisted his left arm, locking his OmniChronometer into the Chronoscopic interface. Acquiring certain factors upon his investigation, he had been observing critical Event Data pertaining to both Fanger’s disappearance, and Jake’s illogical capture.
Though he was never particularly fond of the Tellurian, the figure perceived Jake was hardly responsible for the plant anomalies. Nor would Mr. Hennington ever dare to directly betray him and Jidai outright. Especially when he discovered it rather intriguing when Jake wanted Jidai to rescue the Tellurian from Ayrian Zwei.
Personal feelings aside, the man speculated on how a long-forgotten project had enigmatically resurfaced after so many years. Taking into account the being had literally vanished from the ChronoSphere, almost as if he had never existed in the first place. Scanning Fanger’s own Timeline, the man wondered about the obscure connection. The ChronoSphere had not divulged anything significant about Ayrian Zwei’s creation, nor if the F-Clones had been involved.
Even more perplexing, the Faction Paradox knew absolutely nothing about Project Hennington, despite what the Omicron had extracted from its donors. The Parallel CyberInvasion had been detected by Grandfather, but no agent had risked investigating its source. Lest they’d might be discovered by The Doctor—or worse—Torchwood.
Whatever the case, the figure was ultimately perceptive about someone performing risqué activities without Grandfather’s, or Jidai’s, authority. And if Jidai wasn’t currently indisposed, the man realised nobody would be safe from the Paradox Fangarian’s wrath.
The figure’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a sharp jerk coming from his waist. Around it, there was a unique belt composed of nanocircuitry and symbiotic wires pulsing with energy. Where the buckle might have been, there was a gigantic hose protruding from the belt’s set-in sphere. Both sphere and hose contained an azure-mauve concoction. The substance flowed back and forth to the figure as if it was transferring and sending vital fluids elsewhere.
Sliding one of his forefingers up, he temporarily shattered the holographic illusion, revealing three organic pods set neatly against the far-end of the room. Connected by the mysterious hose, the pods enclosed three men within its chambers. Halfway submerged in amniotic fluid, they were topless and appeared unconscious. Yet, their grimacing reactions indicated a different tale. Their remaining fatigues claimed they had originally came from some militaristic organisation. As with the figure, their waists also held similar belt mechanisms. Attached to their chests and foreheads were intricate biocircuits, recording and monitoring their thoughts, brain patterns, and biological functions.
‘Please cease resistance.’ He dismissively instructed. ‘Personalised data is irrelevant. Converge your thoughts solely upon Fangarius..’ Sliding down another forefinger across the ethereal controls, he produced another image of Ayrian Zwei, as well as Fanger’s last Incarnate. Meticulously examining the infodata provided, the man began formulating theories behind Jake’s doppelganger and the Paranormal Time Lord.
Suddenly another indicator interrupted his contemplation. The Holoscreen assembled a familiar image: a blue police box. Completely preoccupied with this investigation, he had forgotten about the time. Then again, he never anticipated The Doctor expediently finishing the excursion. But after summoning the chronometer, he determined several hours had actually transpired. Although he wanted to continue his research, he sagely realised his assistants would hardly be any use to him if their brains ended up being accidentally burned out. Therefore, he decided on ending his nightly session.
Besides, he had acquisitioned more infodata than he had first estimated, and it was about time he checked on Jidai.
Downloading the newly-procured infodata directly into the Omicron’s vast SysMem Dataplex, he touched some keys, deactivating the amazing complex.
The cybergrid automatically disassembled itself into an opaque dome. Composed from an amalgamation of plastic and organic material, the Omicron gave the impression the man had utilised the Astrodome for its architectural configuration.
‘Take five, gentlemen,’ shutting down his visor, the bioelectric lens dispersing from his face. He now found himself back within the bland, sterile environment. ‘You’ve definitely earned both your keep and rest.’
Splitting apart, the belt detached itself from the man’s waist, automatically retracting its connection hose back into its dimensional compartment. Releasing its grip from its host, the belt then slid downwards into the chamber below, revealing the man’s electric-blue jumper pants.
His azure hair cut short, the man possessed another unique trait while removing his visor.
Sapphire-violet, lightning-bolt bioglyphs streaked from his forehead, etching itself neatly across the man’s right eye and stopping at his cheek. Exiting the Omicron’s Main Chamber, the young man casually reached for his glasses upon the side table. Placing them on, he bore a slight resemblance to a currently-popular, British Literary character from a children’s series. Conversely, he was anything but the person he vaguely portrayed.
Listening to the Omicron door shutting behind him, the man now focused on his surroundings. The dimly-lit corridor indicated it was nighttime for Harris County. Acknowledging the coat rack at the corridor’s far end, he walked over towards it and plucked the brown jacket from it.
‘Much better,’ he knew because the Omicron required astronomical power, this section needed to be kept at critically-low temperatures. Despite normal humans suffering possible hypothermia by just standing here, the man only received an uncomfortable chill in the place. Peering through the side window, he noted the giant pods set neatly at the far end of the Omicron Centre. Witnessing the men peacefully slumbering within their hypnotic siesta, the man activated his WristComp, patching directly into their biorhythmic monitors. Checking out their existing health, he was relieved the prolonged session hadn’t overstretched their limitations like he had almost did during their last one. Nevertheless, he was amazed they were recovering exceptionally well from his assault.
It had occurred during the night he and Jidai were ambushed by Torchwood. Over at the warehouse at the edge of the Southwest Freeway. Secretly he had perceived they were entering a trap. He originally had only wanted to defend himself. Regrettably, he emotions had gotten the better of him when they had seriously injured Jidai.
Faint sounds of machinery grinding and elephants trumpeting inundated the atmosphere. The man evenly identified the cacophonous symphony as the police box started forming and taking shape. The TARDIS reached its destination, materialising before the man. But as for The Doctor, it wasn’t exactly the destination he had originally intended.
The Doctor promptly stepped out from the police box. He had expected to be within Downtown Baytown.
‘What?’ He demanded, wondering where his craft had taken him this time.
‘Greetings, Doctor,’ the man graciously bowed. ‘You’re expected.’
The Time Lord frowned. He was certain he had set the co-ordinates for the Baytown-North GameCrazy. Or more precisely, next to it. Considering the fact Fanger had inexplicably merged the TARDIS 2 with the retail structure. After what he had experienced, The Doctor knew the last thing he wanted was arriving at one of Jidai Sakugo’s concealed bases. Yet, he sensed something different about this complex. Something he couldn’t quite place his finger on. For one thing, as The Doctor inspected the figure greeting him, he incredulously placed on his glasses for a better examination.
‘Harrison?’
On his recent excursions, The Doctor encountered Jidai Sakugo and his associate. Except Harrison always possessed a well-kept appearance. If it wasn’t for the young man’s glasses, Harrison would’ve been completely unrecognizable by the Time Lord. After all, with him only wearing the jumper pants and jacket, Harrison gave the illusion of being one of those new models you’d see on those websites. The ones were it seemed chic for young men to wear a suit sans the shirt and tie. Not quite something you’d exactly locate on Facebook or MySpace.
Adding to the fact, Harrison’s facial stubble gave The Doctor the distinct impression something was amiss.
Yet, only temporarily caught off-guard by Harrison’s remark, The Doctor gingerly placed his hand into his inner jacket pocket.
‘I take it Jidai Sakugo’s gotten involved as well?’ The Time Lord speculated over what precisely Fanger had gotten himself embroiled in this time.
‘Negative,’ Harrison grotesque responded. ‘Sensei is… indisposed.. at the moment.’
‘What?’ The Doctor hesitated. ‘Indisposed? Jidai Sakugo?’ Recalling his own personal accounts with the Paradoxical Fangarian, he never imagined anything causing Jidai to be indisposed. In fact, The Doctor had once witnessed Jidai literally wipe out an entire Dalek fleet without any collateral damage. Sort of how Rose had done with them back on GameStation. Except Jidai had not been infused with corrosive forces from the Vortex. ‘Really?’ He disbelievingly inquired. ‘Jidai Sakugo?’
‘Various events have transpired since your last departure, Doctor,’ Harrison adjusted his glasses. ‘Torchwood has placed Sensei and I upon their most wanted list.’
Slowly taking his hand away from his pocket, The Doctor incredulously stared at the straight-faced Harrison. Though he had only been with Torchwood One for a short period, the Time Lord did not favour their tactics for handling extraterrestrial beings. Let alone acquisitioning artefacts they hardly knew anything about in the first place. It was their interference which had not only brought the new Cybermen into this Universe, but had nearly unleashed a million Daleks over England.
The Doctor knew he himself had gotten on their hit list thanks to Queen Victoria when she had established the organisation in the first place. But he never apprehended they’d ever become this ruthless in going after Faction Paradox members. Especially Jidai Sakugo. Sure, the Time Lord didn’t exactly fancy the being, but he felt this was not a justifiable reason for hunting the Paradoxical Fangarian down.
‘Harrison,’ a familiar voice interrupted. ‘I seriously doubt The Doctor wants to know about Jidai.’
Deep chills ran down the Time Lord’s spine, as he identified the person standing behind him. Long after the Time War, The Doctor had secretly hoped he’d never have to encounter her again. Especially since the Time War had also involved the Royal Family of Jurai as well.
‘Even though these events are relevant towards our godchild, Fangarius.’
Turning round, the Time Lord reluctantly observed the small figure before him. Crimson-violet spiked hair flowing in back, she had it neatly done up round her face like a crab. Although she appeared childesque, The Doctor knew she was well over 20,000 years old. Emerald eyes studying the Holoscreen before her, she wore an interesting black dress, as well as her own lab jacket over it. After establishing some calculations upon her ethereal pad, she dispersed her virtual terminal.
She then folded her arms and gave her guest a discerning expression.
‘Washan Habuki,’ The Doctor exasperatedly noted, wondering what other surprises would occur before the day was out.
