CHAPTER TWO
If you haven’t been paying
attention, it’s important reminding you how vast the ChronoSphere happens to be
in relation with all things in the Universe itself. In fact, the ChronoSphere is far vast than
the Universe, creating forth Multiversal planes, alternate realities and
strange histories. Taking account this
extraordinary fact, one might realise the ChronoSphere is not a simple walk
round the block. Nor can one simply
transverse it merely in the course of one day, given the fact Time is rather
irrelevant within this wondrous dimension.
Because of this unique attribution, even those aware
of the ChronoSphere tend overlooking one amazing note: the most insignificant element can eventually
serve part in something incredibly important.
For instance, while Fanger was
currently coming to grips with the fact he and C’el indeed met up with the
wrong Doctor, neither any of them—including Donna Noble—were aware of what had
been transpiring with their Past selves.
More interesting to the point, Fanger and The Doctor were oblivious
about something which would occur even before their Eighth selves, which would
interrelate into the event concerning those selves.
But before your cranium starts overloading from this
astounding revelation, it’s best if we start at the beginning of how this
strange principle behind the ChronoSphere is applied…
Within the infinite cosmic sea
of stars, planets and galaxies, there is one particular which has been of great
interest to Fanger and The Doctor:
Mutter’s Spiral. More commonly
known as the Milky Way, Mutter’s
Spiral is approximately a hundred thousand light-years in diameter. The nearest significant neighbouring galaxy
is Andromeda, and surrounded by several nearby minor satellite galaxies, such
as Galaxy Seven and the two dwarf
galaxies, the Larger and Smaller Magallenic Clouds. And has about 150 billion stars, give or take
a few which haven’t gone supernova.
Mutter’s Spiral happens to be
divided into four quadrants.
Particularly within the Third Quadrant, where there exists at least
eight thousand twenty-three sectors.
Such as the Kappa Galanga Sector,
which contains the Larson solar region.
Not to mention several galactic arms, like the Perseus arm, a western
arm, secondary and tertiary arm.
Naturally it possesses several forms of galactic government. The Galactic Alliance, Galaxy Police and
PanGalactic Administration are just to name a few. But it solely has come under the dominion of
the ParaCouncil and Shadow Proclamation.
Nonetheless, amidst the endless places one can find
simply within a mere galaxy. There was
one specific sector which Fanger and The Doctor were particular fond of without
questionable doubt: Sector 8023. For within this
backwoods, there subsists the planetary system referred to as Sol. The popular one with most aliens as well
happened to be Sol 3.
Terra, or Earth.
Many speculated on why exactly
did Fanger and The Doctor prefer this odd, blue-greenish planet. Especially when there were more wondrous
places one could visit via TARDIS. For
many considered Earth as being as far in the sticks one could get. First off, the inhabitants, humans—or Tellurians, if you’re up on
your Galactic denotation—were rather unpredictable, irrational and primitive
beings ever known to the Time Lords.
Whilst they were just getting round to the wheel,
other cultures were already exploring space and discovering new
technologies. The other problem was
these inhabitants had an appalling habit of destroying their own
environment. Though some did attempt in
repairing, as well as reversing the damage, it seemed their destructiveness was
as second nature. Thus one wonders why
other races feared the day when Tellurians started exploring other worlds. But Fanger and The Doctor liked them just the
same, and felt it was necessary protecting these Tellurians from the occasional
invaders, if not simply from the inhabitants’ own selves.
Nevertheless, Fanger and The
Doctor always discovered one thing about Earth:
the highly anomalous events always take place somewhere practically
insignificant. Although Fanger did admit
Texas appeared as Paranormal Central, it did make him wonder what made the
out-of-place areas so attractive to extraterrestrials.
Case in point, whenever one
thinks about California, they usually conjure up images of Los Angeles or
Hollywood. But no one would ever once
consider the small residence several miles away, San Delos. San Delos was
rather your average coastal town.
Basically it had its own beachfront property, stores, schools and housing
additions, and even a university on the West Coast.
Nothing remarkable ever happened here. Unless you noted a chance arrival of a police
box and blue telephone kiosk. And
perhaps some strange visitors attending the university as out-of-town
professors. When, in reality, they were
protecting the unsuspecting alumni from bizarre, metallic men.
Metallic men planning on converting the students into
mindless, soulless beings. Yet, all of
this described was not the incredibly-important event which was transpiring.
While the strangers were busy
preventing another invasion attempt on Earth, no one bothered noticing
something occurring upon the University’s beachfront campus. Particularly over at the rest area where most
did anything but relax there. Near one
of the oak wood benches, a stiff wind blew up some leaves.
Now it wasn’t exactly the wind itself which was
out-of-place, since about the late afternoon, the sea breeze would blow in
before the tide. But the fact one might
have noticed the weather wasn’t right for this type of wind. Hot, muggy and lack of any clouds in the
sky. The other oddity was the
atmospheric disturbance wasn’t affecting anything else outside of the area
itself. Mysteriously, it seemed focused
upon the exact spot near the bench.
Picking up speed, the wind started scooping up the
nearby sand. Collecting it, the force
constructed a vortex pillar reaching upwards into the sky. Reaching into the heavens beyond, the
extended pillar extracted a silver orb.
Descending downwards, the sphere slowly transformed into an oblong
cylinder. Gently landing upon its
destination, the cylinder pulsed. The
force instantly deconstructed the pillar, causing the winds to die down.
Sands stripping away from the cylinder, they revealed
three figures standing within it. As the
winds and sands completely dispersed from view, the cylinder automatically
dematerialised, revealing its dubious contents.
At first, one might have mistaken them for fashion
mannequins, since they appeared as young men frozen in time. On closer inspection, one could detect some
eccentric attributes. For one thing,
they had darkened, claw-tipped hands and
wolf tails. The other were the strange
bioglyphs upon their faces. The two
standing behind the first also possessed cryptic pattern upon their right
shoulders.
Eyes closed, they seemed as if they had been locked
in an enchanted slumber. Even though it
was apparent they came from the stars, their outfits didn’t quite reveal their
otherworldly nature.
Light-brown hair, appearing in his mid-twenties, the
one standing in front was wearing a crimson windbreaker, with a double-button
collar. Whereas the rest of his ensemble
was composed of a liquid-chrome T-Shirt, faded blue jeans and silver trainers. Around his waist he wore an opulent
belt. Trimmed with gold, it was
aquamarine with amethyst inset controls.
Set neatly within the belt buckle was an ancient, polished stone,
bearing the same symbol etched on his companions’ right shoulders.
The other two attending the main figure produced an
illusion of intergalactic atmosphere.
That is, if your version of intergalactic
originated from a forgotten science-fiction serial dating back to the
Fifties. They were identical twins,
except the one on the figure’s right had long, dark-brown hair. Whereas the one positioned on the figure’s
left, had its hair neatly styled short.
Nevertheless, their attire proved not only being
cosmic, but exactly consistent with one another. Metallic-silver, the sleeveless, muscle
shirts, dark slacks and lunar boots, the ensemble gave the feeling these were
some type of forgotten uniform.
Especially with the intriguing accessory of theirs: trimmed in silver, composed from mysterious
onyx material, they resembled ribbon chokers which once were in fashion for a
time.
Intriguingly enough, these chokers were usually
inert. But while the twins were entranced,
the accessories were producing a series of random lights, flashing and moving
rhythmically about its surface. Almost
as if they were actually monitoring their electroencephalic activity and
cardiovascular systems.
Upon their wrists, they wore ornate bracers composed
of an unknown metal with touch controls.
Completing their ensemble were similar belts like the front figure, with
the equivalent gem set neatly into the belt buckle.
The twins appeared slightly younger than their front
counterpart, perhaps in their early twenties.
Overall the beings were rather enchanting, not quite the type you’d
imagine ever being not from this planet.
In fact, their immobile state might have made one believe they were part
of some elaborate advertising stunt, or perhaps some displaced statues
forgotten by the university’s art department.
And it would have remained so, if not for one thing.
Without warning, the front
figure’s windbreaker sensed their new environment and started reacting to
it. The right cuff’s inset mechanism
blinked, activating its bio-resuscitation program. Transmitting an electroencephalic pulse
throughout the arm, it sent the silent command.
Autonomically lifting itself upwards, the forearm bent close, permitting
its hand to reach for the top button collar.
Pressing it, the windbreaker’s revival system sprang
to life. Ethereal forces immediately
coursed through every fiber of the garment, stimulating the figure’s body. Respiratory bypass started up, allowing
oxygen back within the lungs, as the being began steadily breathing. Tail twitching slightly, he felt his binary
vascular system automatically kick in.
His olfactory senses detected the faint, salty scent
of the atmosphere. Mind slowly
identifying he was near the ocean, it gradually awakened him from his prolonged
slumber. Bioglyphs illuminating with a
mulberry glow, the being’s eyes snapped open, revealing his true nature.
Golden-brown, serpentine, they briefly scanned the
unaccustomed territory. Despite his
disorientation, his mind did recall he had not been on a beach. At least not any beach he had ever
encountered before, nor the azure sky above and buttery-coloured sun. Let alone there being one sun at that. Even the strange trees and sand offered
little clue of his surroundings, wondering how he came to this foreign land.
While calculating this conundrum, the being did sense
he was not alone. Instinctively touching
the belt controls, the gem buckle awoke with power. Without hesitation, he fluidly waved his
hands over it.
‘D’mias,’ his voice echoed with a hauntingly-metallic tone. ‘Saim’d…
n’kawae… Gm’nai!’
Hands inundated with energised force, he deftly
placed them against his associates’ gem buckles.
Mystic forces revived the inset gems, promptly
transmitting the bio-resuscitation program throughout their bodies. Muscle shirts shimmering, their aquamarine
bioglyphs pulsed, stimulating their respiratory and bicardiovascular
systems. Eyes snapping open, they also
revealed they were serpentine, but aquamarine-hazel. Detecting the incomprehensible sodium scent
lingering in the atmosphere, they determined they were no longer on their
Homeworld. Then again, their impaired memories pondered
on how exactly they got displaced here in the first place.
Before acknowledging their surroundings, the twins
sensed their companion was staggering slightly.
Apparently the revival process required more energy than
anticipated. Weakened by expending so
much psiforce, the first figure’s legs buckled.
The twins wasted no time catching him.
Noticing the nearby bench, they cautiously brought him over to it.
‘Ricem, Gm’nai,’ he softly spoke while they assisted
him. Setting him upon the bench, the
Gm’nai twins started massaging his shoulders.
Not for relaxing his muscles, mind you, but helping him recharge his
energy. Since they failed determining
how long they had been in SuspensChambers (or so they presumed), they couldn’t
accurately determine how much psiforce was used for life support.
‘Affirmative.’ He performed a brief diagnostic upon
himself. ‘Source of disorientation also originates from our prolonged suspended
state.’
The Gm’nai twins perceived their associate had every
right for concern. Briefly conducting a
psionic link with him, they knew his neural network was currently
impaired. Meaning they only were able to
obtain brief synaptic memory flashes.
Flashes pertaining upon how they had been contained..
No.. captured..
As the revelation entered their mind, the twins
promptly released their hold upon him. Ambiguous on how this actually occurred, they
incredulously glanced at each other.
‘Insufficient data,’ the man automatically responded,
sensing their thoughts. ‘Memory also impaired from prolonged slumber. Cause
temporarily unknown.’ Searching the deep recesses of his mind, he could not get
the synapses functioning. The only faint shred he grasped was being brought
before both the ParaCouncil and Shadow Proclamation. He also recalled a Fandraelian was there as
well. Even a Locanshite knew their
powers weren’t easy to overcome.
Locanshite… The identification came clear, but everything else remained cryptic.
‘Cause of unanticipated liberation,’ he concluded. ‘Indeterminate.
Possible situation: probable malfunction of containment field.’
Despite being completely in the dark about their
current Past, the Gm’nai sensed they had not been proficient with their
protection as they might have been.
After all, they knew there was no logical means behind their
inconceivable apprehension. Both
instinctively lowered their heads shamefully towards their conclusion. But the figure gently smiled, reached over
and simultaneously stroked their cheeks.
‘Negative,’ he sympathetically affirmed. ‘Neither of
you are culpable. We underestimated the resourcefulness of our captors. Seems
the ParaCouncil initiated appropriate precautions..’ He still found it
difficult recalling exactly what happened, yet, he turned towards the young man
on his right. ‘D’mias,’ he
seductively whispered. Then he turned
towards his left. ‘Saim’d.’
D’mias and Saim’d closed their eyes, briefly
intoxicated with the man’s caress.
‘Biologically, you are both my Primlan.’ He astutely identified. ‘Yet, devotedly and diligently,
you are more as my Frelan. You are the Gm’nai, the ultimate Locanshite warriors within our
Clanstribe. Even surpassing the Kri’av, you have never, nor shall you
ever, fail in your duties to me, Tsi’Drael.’
Lowering his hands, Tsi’Drael intuited his comrades
gave him an approving bow. Meaning they
comprehended his explanation and were now ready to serve him. The only problem was their next course of
action, since they still had absolutely no idea where they were.
Tsi’Drael knew he was of no use with his mental
faculties compromised.
‘As for myself,’ he calmly proclaimed, ‘I desperately
require Neurocallibration.’ Perhaps a
cerebral reboot would assist in reviving his forgotten memories. ‘For
discovering our location, you both must establish Psionic Orientation.’ He briefly glanced at the blue sky. ‘I detect
electronic devices orbiting this planet,’ he then stared forward. ‘As well as
some here on it,’ he narrowed his eyes. ‘Though they seem rather primitive,
utilising the binary function of Algon-7.’
Algon-7? D’mias frowned, never expecting anyone used that
antiquated CompMath. Saim’d appeared
more surprised the beings here knew any CompMath Language at all. Nevertheless, they acknowledged Tsi’Drael’s
command, immediately standing at attention.
The Gm’nai wasted little time turning round, with
their backs to each other. With perfect
synchronisation, they simultaneously tapped their chokers and touched their gem
buckles. Psionic energy coursing through
their bodies, new bioglyphs formed under their current ones.
‘INITIATE.’ The machinesque tone emerged
from their lips in unison.
‘Acquisition infodata perimeters.’ Tsi’Drael narrowed
his eyes, realising he wasn’t certain if their cerebral capacity had been compromised
as well. There was no sense overloading
them with unnecessary, inconsequential items if he could help it. ‘Planetary,
intergalactic position. In relation to
ChronoSpheric terms, if applicable.’ He
closed his eyes, concentrating.
Complying with their instructions, D’mias and Saim’d
followed suit. Interlocking each other’s
hands, they activated their vambraces.
Still energised from their first move, their bodies became instantly
rigid. Bizarre intricate symbols
materialised upon their arms like sophisticated circuits. Both them and their altered Bioglyphs pulsed
with intense force. Instinctively
tilting their heads upwards toward the sky, D’mias and Saim’d’s eyes snapped
open.
Expelling mystic beams directly into the cosmos, D’mias
reached his mind beyond the stars.
Saim’d focused his directly over the planet itself. Within nanoseconds, D’mias interfaced with
every network throughout several galaxies, while Saim’d connected his
neuronetwork with every type of storage unit—organic and inorganic—on the
planet.
‘Direct Access.. Intergalactic Net Established..’ D’mias confirmed. ‘Acquisition Initiated.. Transferring… 10
percent..’
‘Direct Access… Planetary Net Established..’ Saim’d responded. ‘Algon-7 Translation
Initiated.. Acquisition commencing..’ His muscles twitched slightly while his synapses fired. ‘Transferring… 20 percent..’
Expediently
converting everything into advanced mathematical equations and formulas, the
Gm’nai twins were processing the infodata at exceptional speeds. Within several minutes, D’mias and Saim’d
would complete their task without fail.
Meanwhile, Tsi’Drael hardly
wasted any time with his own personal task.
Whereas D’mias and Saim’d concentrated on outer space, he secretly
focused diametrically on innerspace. Eyes closed, Tsi’Drael knew unless he
regained at least about half of his memory, he was currently ineffectual
towards their situation. Conducting a
brief neuroscan on himself, the cerebral cortex was functioning normally. However, he detected some problems with the
neurotransmitters and receptors.
Something was interfering with their process. The only solution for it was conducting a
proper encephalic jolt for rebooting his brain.
Instinctively gripping his belt, the gem buckle once
again reacted. Responding to its forces,
the windbreaker began illuminating circuit patterns flowing through its
material. Tsi’Drael’s bioglyphs emitted
strange patterns as well, while his brain began establishing the proper
connections with his mind.
Feeling the dormant synapses awakening, Tsi’Drael
gradually sensed the neurological pathways opening up. Forgotten memories flowing throughout his
mind, he vividly recalled exactly how he and the Gm’nai twins had fallen into
their suspended state. Consequently,
none of this mattered as he conducted a proper calibration of his personal BioData.
Eyes snapping open, he automatically gave a complete
identification of himself.
‘TSI’DRAEL a’chala Tol’re P’ksun,’ he indifferently spoke, almost like a computer providing
data. ‘TOMBEURIAN CLANSTRIBE –
LOCANSHITE.. SYMBIOENGINEER/BIOGENECIST.. SEVENTH GENERATION..’
Once establishing his
identity, Tsi’Drael swiftly organised the disconnected shards leading up to his
mysterious fate. Afterwards, he was now
prepared for accepting D’mias and Saim’d’s findings.
Blinking, Tsi’Drael’s eyes reverted back to normal,
yet, his windbreaker and bioglyphs were still glowing with energy.
‘INITIATE DOWNLOAD INTERFACE..’ He intoned the command.
Without diverting their gaze, nor breaking their
connection, the twins deftly place their hands upon Tsi’Drael’s shoulders. Intense parakinetic electricity surged
through Tsi’Drael’s physical form, the conversion into biogenetic data caused
his body to stiffen. Advanced mathematical
formulas converting into practical data about their location, in relation to
the rest of the Cosmos. But as D’mias
and Saim’d were transferring their newly-acquisitioned infodata into
Tsi’Drael’s mind, an inexplicable transformation occurred.
Crimson windbreaker flared with ethereal force, as if
the Locanshite was going to enter Regeneration.
Except instead of Tsi’Drael transforming, the windbreaker morphed into a
black leather jacket. The liquid-metal
T-Shirt changed into a dark V-neck version.
Tsi’Drael perceived the interface activated his upgrades he once
acquired before the incident. The jacket
subtly changed its design, as well as the Locanshite’s hairstyle: his neatly-combed bangs became raised. His shirt dematerialised completely while he
continued feeling every molecule of his being still undergoing
transmutation. But he knew this wasn’t
his physical body undergoing this procedure, but his attire. For with every modification he had made with
his specialised clothes, the design always changed into the appropriate form.
Yet, even his mind could no longer sustain the input
as well as the sudden adaptations with his clothes.
‘cease!’ He abruptly shot up, standing
at attention. The spontaneous reaction
forced D’mias and Saim’d to not only release their relation, but severed their
psionic link.
Disoriented with the unexpected interruption, they
both staggered a bit, wondering what caused it.
‘Apologies,’ Tsi’Drael breathlessly spoke.
‘Apparently we overlooked possible side-effects during the procedure. Are you
functioning properly, any anomalies incurred from this disruption?’
Both shook their heads, as they telepathically
admitting they had already completed their analysis. They were simply completing their interface
relay, ensuring their presence remained undetected. Opening their eyes, they incredulously stared
as the newly-formed Tsi’Drael.
‘Affirmative.’ Tsi’Drael examined himself. Gone was the basic form attire he once used,
it was now replaced with a Western-style, onyx khaki shirt, with pearl-buttons
set upon the breast pockets. Dark jeans
and ropers replaced the faded-blue and trainers. On both his arms were onyx bands. ‘Seems I
have acquired my true form once again.’
D’mias and Saim’d impressively observed their
reconstructed relation.
‘Affirmative..’ Cautiously lifting up his lower right
arm, Tsi’Drael approvingly inspected the band.
Clenching his fist, he witnessed the band produce an array of iridescent
patterns. ‘This form is ultimately acceptable.’
Even his hair was combed a bit more neatly than his intermediate form.
‘Perfect.’
Tsi’Drael was relieved the imprisonment hadn’t
adversely affected his capabilities. Regrettably as he touched one of his left,
pearl-buttons, the Locanshite would establish an abrupt discovery. Originally meaning on performing a brief
diagnostic check, Tsi’Drael never expected being engulfed by tachyon
biofeedback.
Crackling about throughout his body, the force
promptly reverted his outfit back into
its former state.
The Gm’nai twins incredulously witnessed the event,
speculating the source of the malfunction.
Tsi’Drael realised this incident wasn’t
critical. He attempted performing a
reboot by pressing the windbreaker’s top collar button.
Except all he received was a faint crackle of
power. The standard version remained as
he attempted once more.
D’mias and Saim’d feared Tsi’Drael might enter some
repressed frustration over this difficulty.
Amazingly, the Locanshite simply produced a slight smile on his lips,
almost as if he was amused by a private joke.
‘For once, I am the fool.’ He sheepishly admitted. ‘I
underestimated the fact our liberation would not be without some restrictions.’ Enthralled by temporarily gaining his
upgraded form, Tsi’Drael completely forgot he was dealing with the
ParaCouncil. Even he should’ve realised
things weren’t going to go this easily for them.
Notwithstanding, he knew there was no logic getting
angered over this setback.
‘Location.’ He calmly instructed, staring directly at
the campus. ‘Activate your vocalisers.’ After this embarrassing situation,
Tsi’Drael grew weary of telepathic communication.
D’mias and Saim’d complied. Tapping their chokers, they felt a buzzing
sensation travel through their vocal chords.
‘ChronoSpheric Position,’ D’mias confirmed. ‘72nd
ChronoSegment according to the Rassilon-Tombeuric Scale of Absolute Time.’
Saim’d performed the astrophysical conversion.
‘N-Space Location – Mutter’s Spiral…’ His mind began focusing as the
calculations rapidly converting the infodata. ‘System with Spectral Class
G2V. Sol – Sector 8023. Classification – Sol Three.’
‘Terra?’ Tsi’Drael
quizzically raised an eyebrow. Factoring
in the astronomically vast dimension of N-Space, the probability factor of them
ending up on Terra was approximately 2 to the power of negative 3.14211336 to
one against. The coincidental
possibility was rather much for Tsi’Drael’s comprehension.
Essentially since he heard infinite accounts about
the small planet after his first encounter several millennia ago. Back when the Locanshites were invited by the
Fangarians, he learned how primatesque beings evolved into humanoid figures,
becoming the dominant species of the planet.
Not unlike how the Tombeurian Clanstribes had evolved from their
quadruped counterpart.
Without warning, the downloaded infodata permeated
Tsi’Drael’s mind. Several thousand years
of infodata raced through his brain’s memory in a matter of seconds. Assessing the planet’s Chronology, then
comparing it with the current socio-political and technological index,
Tsi’Drael took a few steps from the bench.
‘So,’ he scanned the beachfront, slowly turning round
and inspecting the campus buildings and structures. ‘This is Terra…’ his mind provided the
conventional nomenclature. ‘Earth..’
Judging from the Chronology, he hardly seemed impressed with the inhabitants’
development. ‘Such a primitive, retroactive planet.’ Studying the University
campus set across from them.
‘I concur.’ D’mias determined the campus wasn’t a
military installation. Otherwise, they
might have been dealing with the planet’s ineffectual authorities. ‘Apparently,
we appear to be near one of the localised learning facilities. Not dissimilar
to the ones once on our Homeworld.’
Saim’d frowned, expecting the campus to be far more
consolidated into one coherent structure..
‘You must comprehend, Frelan,’ D’mias indicated,
‘these Tellurians rely on written language, bound upon documents, for acquiring
knowledge. They do not equip the essential faculties for implementing direct
brain access, as we do.’
‘So, these Tellurians do not rely on any mathematical
language at all?’
‘Incorrect, Saim’d,’ Tsi’Drael narrowed his eyes.
‘Primitive as it may be, the Tellurians implement an organic, mathematical
lexicon based on the Denary System.
However, as you both discovered they’ve implemented a basic binary
system for their computer systems.’
‘Ah,’ Saim’d nodded. ‘Thus explain the archaic
resemblance to Algon-7.’
‘Indeed,’ Tsi’Drael continued inspecting their
environment. ‘One speculates the inexplicable fascination both the Little One
and the Time Lord possess for this civilisation.’
Both D’mias and Saim’d paused when Tsi’Drael made the
vague reference.
The Locanshites had not been
on their Homeworld for several centuries.
But even the displaced Clanstribe perceived the infinitely-wondrous
tales concerning Fanger and The Doctor.
Outstandingly the ones detailing the remarkable fact Fanger was indeed a
Paranormal Time Lord.
Amazing since they knew firsthand what the so-called
High Council was really like, what these pompous Gallifreyans had become,
despite Rassilon’s attempt for a peaceful co-existence between Gallifreyan Man
and Tombeurian. Many never imagined the
Fangarian ever dared achieving such a status, let alone being accepted into the
Academy. In fact, some felt it
perplexing he had made it through the Syli’Dal-Chi and survived.
Despite Tsi’Drael’s private
admiration of the Little One’s achievements, the Locanshite’s mind was
preoccupied with far more important matters.
Covertly he focused on a slightly more critical agenda.
‘No matter,’ a contemptuous smile formed upon his
lips. Narrowing his eyes, he studied
their new environment. ‘This shall adequately serve my present requirements.’
When D’mias and Saim’d were downloading their
findings, Tsi’Drael received the genetic encryption of the dominant genome. Deciphering the deoxyribonucleic acid, genetic sequencing,
then transcribing it, he discovered these Tellurians were exceptionally
susceptible for his intricate stratagem.
A stratagem he developed while being in suspended
animation. Though physically disabled,
mentally he formulated it on the contingency if there ever came the probability
of escape. Naturally, the entire
mechanisation was so fantastic, it appeared by all mathematical logic,
Tsi’Drael might never produce the desired outcome. For the Locanshite never conceived their
unexpected freedom would provide them the essentially perfect environment.
The possibility factor proved statistically it being
rather improbable than impossible.
However, here they were on Earth.
Logically, Tsi’Drael concluded this result was far from just a random
coincidence.
Once more, the Locanshite’s contemplation was
abruptly shattered by the sound being emitted by D’mias’ choker.
‘Warning,’ D’mias’ choker emitted a crimson pulse.
‘Parachronistic Systems On-line.’ Tapping his choker, he deactivated the
built-in indicator. ‘Evident anomaly located within ChronoSphere.’
Saim’d tapped his choker for confirmation.
‘Apologies. Vocal circuits incidentally primed our search transceiver mode.
ParaChronSys activated from reference to Time Lord and the Fangarian.
Probability of cross-indexing at seventy-five percent.’
Tsi’Drael felt bemused about this unusual
occurrence. After calculating all the
possibilities, he determined their newfound liberation was genuinely a
fluke. Otherwise both the ParaCouncil
and Shadow Proclamation would waste no time implementing apprehension
procedures immediately. Not overlooking
the detail the Judoon legitimately could not set foot on Earth. Ironically, their presence violated some
sacred pact between them and the ParaCouncil.
Specifically since they didn’t exactly believe in implementing
discretion when it came to their investigative
techniques. Even then, they could only arrive if through some miracle both
legislatures permitted an interplanetary injunction.
Nevertheless, Tsi’Drael realised it definitely did
not bode well for them if they were already discovered.
‘Elucidate.’ He languidly ordered.
Forgoing their standard vocal communication, D’mias
automatically created a psionic link with Tsi’Drael. Arriving into the mindscape, both beings were
now transcending the dimensions of Time and Space. Streaking past the familiar constellation of
Kasterborous, they headed for the galactic co-ordinates: Ten-zero-eleven-zero-zero by zero-two from
Galactic Zero Centre.
Upon reaching their destination, Tsi’Drael and D’mias
recognised the mauve and silver sphere.
Once the Locanshite’s Homeworld, it was none other than Gallifrey
itself. Normally whenever Tsi’Drael
viewed the planet, it always produced intense negative emotions within
him. Rapt fascination, however,
surpassed any rage he dared conjure up, wondering why his Primlan dared
revealing this image.
D’mias admitted they were observing Gallifrey. Except according to his advanced
ChronoSpheric calculations, they were witnessing it directly from the 72nd
ChronoSegment. In short, they were
actually viewing the planet in the Gallifreyan Past. D’mias considered it extremely unusual, since
the Transduction Barrier prevented anyone—or anything—from travelling to
Gallifrey’s Past or Future.
Taking over from his Frelan, Saim’d deepened the
enigma when he applied the Parachronistic adjustments to the equation. Within seconds, their position was properly
realigned to Absolute Time, transferring them instantly into Gallifrey’s
Present. By doing so, they all observed
something rather disturbing along their journey.
At first they were caught in what appeared to be a
cosmic storm. Without warning, there
followed a tremendous, bright explosion.
Afterwards, when they arrived at their proper destination, all they
found was nothing but cosmic dust and charred remnants.
Deactivating the connection, D’mias and Saim’d
brought their Primlan back to Earth.
Another conundrum entered into
the equation, prompting Tsi’Drael to let this conflicting Reality process
slowly within his perplexed mind.
Nothing prepared him for this unforeseen contingency, wondering what
actually happened to Gallifrey.
‘Logically,’ Saim’d flatly indicated. ‘Gallifrey no
longer exists.’
‘At least, it does not exist within the Absolute
Present Timeframe.’ D’mias added.
‘Silence.’ Tsi’Drael closed his eyes. Placing his left hand over his face, he began
concentrating. Implementing an Ancient
Locanshite ability, he gazed directly into the limitless tempest known as the
Time Vortex. Transcending the Fourth and
Fifth Dimensions, his mind summoned forth the devastating events leading up to
Gallifrey’s disappearance.
The Last ChronoWar unfolded before Tsi’Drael. He learned about how the infamous occurrence
had transpired. The Gallifreyans
mysteriously provoked the Skaroan GenetAug Mutant Kaleds—Daleks—into entering a never-ending war with them. Apparently the Daleks were continuing their
futile desire of conquering the Universe, when some covert organisation—the
Celestial Intervention Agency—had attempted in destroying the creatures’
creation.
Factoring several effective deterrents—the Movellans
and the F-Clones—the Daleks eventually launched a vendetta against the
Gallifreyan High Council, attributing them for their continual failures. As a result, neither side decided on pulling
back any punches in this conflict.
The Daleks unleashed the terrifying Deathsmiths of
Goth, as the Council dared countering with the Ancients. Regrettably all this produced was several
deadly factions into the mix: the Skaro
Degradations, the Horde of Travesties, the Nightmare Child and the
Couldhavebeen King with his Army of Meanwhiles and Neverweres. Somberly, Tsi’Drael sensed the unsavoury
stench of the Cipher Lupiné embroiled in this catastrophic force.
Amidst the
senseless death and destruction, the remaining Clanstribes had miraculously
gotten most of the innocent people off the planet. Not to mention recovering the Amplified Panatropic Computer Network, keeping
it well away from the Daleks’ possession.
The last thing Tsi’Drael wanted were those beings having a sacred
Locanshite innovation in their vile clutches.
Meanwhile, some
forgotten factions—The ChronoKnights—returned to take the major battle away
from Ground Zero. From Tsi’Drael’s
observations, it wasn’t too effective in protecting Gallifrey.
Although he swiftly
viewed these ominous events unfold, there was one curious item which was
missing.
FANGARIUS…
Meticulously reviewing the
ChronoWar Events, Tsi’Drael failed locating the Paranormal Time Lord. Regardless of the fact The Doctor’s presence
was easily amongst the endless battles, not once was Fanger involved. Tsi’Drael speculated not as so much how
Fanger was kept out of the ChronoWar, but rather as to why.
Interestingly enough, he learned the Time Lord had
placed the Little One into a SuspensChamber moments before the ultimate
conflict had commenced. And it was here,
the Locanshite encountered the most bewildering revelation about the Little
One.
‘So.’ He dismissively spoke. ‘Seems what the Little
One viewed into the Schism, has ultimately come to pass.’
Nevertheless, as Tsi’Drael’s
mind returned back into the RealDimension, he now deciphered why their
containment field system had malfunctioned. ‘Apparently with all the knowledge
behind transdimensional engineering, it seems no one has perfected the
sufficient means for dealing with Paradox forces.’
‘Confirmed.’ D’mias comprehended. ‘Anomalous
source: Gallifrey exists here in the 72nd
ChronoSegment.’
‘Tellurian denotation,’ Saim’d deftly converted the
date. ‘Nineteen hundred sixty-two – Gregorian Calendar measurement, I surmise.’
‘But within the same instance,’ D’mias concluded.
‘Absolute Time – Gallifreyan Present, it does not.’
‘Precisely,’ Tsi’Drael realised their containment
field functioned along an astringent linear design. ‘Overlooking this one important flaw, the
field could no longer be maintained.’
‘Point of inquiry,’ Saim’d slightly grimaced.
‘Although we’ve essentially determined our liberation’s source, we still have
not determined the cause behind our arrival.’
‘In other words,’ D’mias simplified, glancing towards
Tsi’Drael, ‘why did the field disruption transfer us here to these
co-ordinates?’
‘Insufficient data,’ Tsi’Drael failed ascertaining
the reasoning behind their arrival. All
probability factors indicated they could have easily found themselves back
inside Pandora’s Junction, or the Perdias
Astran. Currently the Locanshite
wasn’t in the mood for dealing with either the ParaCouncil, or the Shadow
Proclamation.
‘Warning,’ D’mias automatically spun round. Facing the campus, his nose picked up the
subtle scent of Artron Energy flowing along the breeze. Its musty, ozone nature informed him they
weren’t the only Gallifreyans here. ‘I sense the presence of a ChronoSpace
Capsule nearby.’
‘Affirmative,’ Saim’d confirmed his Frelan’s analysis
by listening to the low humming sound off in the distance. Closing his eyes, he
instantly filtered out all the
unnecessary static. Locating its source,
his eyes snapped open. ‘Proximity… about 25 yards within the facility.’ He
focused his attention towards the campus.
Tsi’Drael seriously narrowed his eyes. Inspecting the area before them, he telepathically
instructed his entourage to activate their perception filters. As all three touched their belt controls,
Tsi’Drael doubted the High Council were aware of their unauthorised presence. Consequently, if there were any Gallifreyans
roaming about out there, the last thing
the Locanshites desired was being unwittingly discovered by them.
Eyes illuminating with azure force, D’mias conducted
a perimeter sweep of the campus. Sifting
through all the invariable objects, he came across the strange blue box.
‘Capsule located.’
‘Type 40, I suspect.’ Tsi’Drael followed D’mias’
psionic stream. Analysing the
out-of-place object, he was amazed the device was still functional. ‘Rather
antiquated. Originally meant for Citadel Guard Covert Operations. Chameleon
circuit malfunctioning/disabled. Probable cause: inadequate maintenance and
usage.’
Establishing direct access with the vessel, Tsi’Drael
scanned its data banks.
‘Evidently the Type 40 was absconded by the Time
Lord..’
D’mias raised an incredulous eyebrow.
‘…otherwise known as The Doctor.’
Surreptitiously, Saim’d
appeared preoccupied with his own findings.
Mysteriously the low humming force was not emanating from the Type 40
D’mias had located. Focusing his ears,
the Locanshite homed in on a completely different source.
‘Another capsule located within same vicinity as the
Type 40.’ He astutely confirmed. ‘However, its classification is unknown.’
Taking into account The Doctor was a renegade Time
Lord, Tsi’Drael nervously presumed it might be one of those militaristic
Capsules. The ones the Gallifreyan High
Council had been developing. Handling
The Doctor was one thing, but dealing with the Citadel Guard was another matter
entirely.
Before jumping to any conclusions, Tsi’Drael
refocused his mind on Saim’d mental waves.
Much to his relief the only thing they detected was a curious
artefact: a blue telephone kiosk. Searching through his Capsule Model Data from
his memory, Tsi’Drael verified it definitely wasn’t military issue.
‘Chameleon Circuit is also defective,’ D’mias
investigated the craft. ‘Fallacy, however, is camo-colourisation sequencer.’
‘Affirmative,’ Saim’d scrutinised the unique
structure. ‘Architectural Event Interface still functions, but only on a
minimal level.’
‘Any possible means for classification?’ Tsi’Drael
speculated on this particular craft’s owner.
D’mias promptly accessed the APC Net via the
ChronoSpheric Transit. Without fail, the
young Locanshite pinpointed the infodata concerning Time Space Capsules.
‘Updating Capsule Classifications…’ he recalibrated
his memory. ‘Classification located and identified.’
Telepathically transmitting his findings, D’mias
informed Saim’d and Tsi’Drael about the kiosk.
They learned it was once an unregistered unit, later designated by its
owner, as a Model 92 Deluxe. Or M92D
Mark I. The M92D was actually an
upgraded design of the Type 40 Unit, since their Cybernetic Symbiotic Cores are
practically identical.
While intricately studying the M92D schematics and
Chronology, the Locanshites came across one intriguing piece of infodata about
the vessel.
‘So,’ Tsi’Drael incredulously gazed at the kiosk.
‘This Capsule was conceived, developed and engineered by the Little One.’
Basically it wasn’t quite
astonishing discovering Fanger constructed the device. Essentially the Locanshites and Fangarians
were the true pioneers behind transdimensional engineering. Tsi’Drael found it remarkable the Paranormal
Time Lord managed producing it within the Shipyards without any interference
from the High Council. And using a
component from the Type 40, no less.
Nonetheless, Tsi’Drael realised only one inexplicable
factor cropped up amongst these achievements.
‘Why would the Little One install an imperfect
Chameleon Circuit?’ Tsi’Drael considered this highly illogical, even for a
Fangarian.
‘Two factors are the probable cause, Tsi’Drael.’
D’mias reviewed the schematics. ‘Ensuring the High Council dare not take
control of the M92D, the Little One took the precautionary measure of
installing an advanced Navigational System.’
‘Advanced?’ Tsi’Drael doubted such a thing was
possible. ‘Elucidate.’
‘Utilising the mathematical system of Block Transfer
Computations from an Alzarian,’ Saim’d accessed the kiosk’s databanks.
‘Alzarian?’
Tsi’Drael frowned, never expecting anyone else had discovered E-Space.
‘Ironically, the M92D saved this Alzarian from an
explo—’
‘Affirmative,’ D’mias coolly interrupted, returning
back to the topic. ‘Fangarius created an entirely new system. Regrettably,
during the Priming Phase, he realised the system was far too advanced for him
as well.’
‘The Priming Phase Test Flight was supposed to send
the unit to a small asteroid in the Vargas Galaxy,’ Saim’d noted. ‘But instead
landed on an unusual planet at co-ordinates Seven-four-twelve-two by three-six
from Galactic Zero Centre.’
‘Melmac,’
Tsi’Drael was well-acquainted with the strange inhabitants there, especially
their peculiar taste for felines. He
definitely knew Fanger would never willingly go there for a test run.
‘Atmospheric conditions were completely incompatible
with the circuit’s Event Synthesizer.’ D’mias recalled Melmac’s bizarre
environment. ‘Due to the spatial-pigmentation difficulties, the Chameleon
Circuit malfunctioned.’
Saim’d raised his right arm, activating his
WristComp. ‘Here is a visual of the M92D’s original interface.’
Producing a holographic image, Saim’d revealed a
police box similar to the Type 40’s interface.
Excluding the fact it was not blue, but instead iridescent. Almost as if the structure had encountered a
spectrum storm, and the F-Clanscrest set upon one of the windows.
‘Adjust.’ Tsi’Drael felt no respecting being dared
possess a Capsule so outlandish.
‘The image is not faulty, Primlan,’ Saim’d insisted.
‘It is an accurate representation of the M92D.’
D’mias inspected the blue kiosk, now noticing the
F-Clanscrest on the door’s shaded window. ‘Current altercation of architectural
configuration originates from Fangarius once more being place on trial for
unauthorised intervention. Result: Fangarius was temporarily exiled on this
planet’s Future. Rassilon overrode the
circuit and initiated this configuration. Purpose: effective means for
preventing its recognition by the Tellurians.’
‘As we’ve witnessed,’ Saim’d concluded. ‘Fangarius’
sentence eventually ceased, however, he’s kept the M92D in this current form.
Addendum: The Doctor and Fanger do not refer to their vessels as Capsules, or
by model numbers.’
Tsi’Drael sighed, wondering why Saim’d had this
penchant for trivial knowledge. But
since they had been contained for some time, he felt it best if he humoured
him.
‘They use the acronym: TARDIS.’ Saim’d explained.
‘For Time And Relative Dimensions In Space.
Yet, the Little One denotes his with the numeral 2 after it. Probably
since his did originate from the Type 40 perhaps.’
‘GREAT
RASSILON!’
The heated voice emerged off
in the distance, shattering the Locanshites’ conversation. Snapping back into their current situation,
they detected the bioscent of a Fangarian.
At the far end of the campus, they witnessed a figure
leaving the building. The brown-haired
man wearing a blue turtleneck, brown trench coat, dark trousers and
plimsolls. Tsi’Drael distinguished the
man’s multicoloured headband, the crimson F-Clanscrest upon the turtleneck, the
darkened, claw-tipped hands, and wolf’s tail.
Holding out his own wolf hand, Tsi’Drael performed a
genetic identification upon the being.
‘Definitely the Little One,’ he verified the BioData
Extract code. Analysing the triple-helix
strand, he acknowledged Fanger had consumed five packets of the Regenerative
Matrix. ‘Sixth Incarnation, if I’m not mistaken.’
D’mias and Saim’d inspected Fanger’s Sixth self with
rapt fascination. They recalled hearing
disturbing accounts about this particular Paranormal Time Lord. Overlooking the fact they were the bravest of
the Locanshite Gm’nai Kri’lai, they
felt greatly relieved Fanger wasn’t aware of their presence.
‘Affirmative,’ Tsi’Drael sensed their concealed
trepidation. ‘BioData Extract suggests his irrational persona stems from an
unexpected instability caused with his Fifth Regeneration.’
‘Instability?’
D’mias pondered, keeping his eyes transfixed on Fanger.
Tsi’Drael gave a brief account when the Celestial
Intervention Agency embroiled the Paranormal Time Lord into another Time
Manipulative scheme. This time round it
was preventing the Coming of the F-Clones.
Consequently, there were two realities the CIA did
not take into consideration with this plan.
One was the fact Fanger might be not only incriminated with genocide,
but endangering the Universe if he took out the only obstacle effective against
The Daleks. Two, he might also end up
eradicating himself from the ChronoSphere.
Since technically Fanger discovered his Fourth self there, and learned
without the Time Lord F-Clone, Doctran’s, intervention, his Third self would
have never regenerated in the first place.
Therefore, Fanger elected on simply altering their
development a bit than eliminating them.
‘Regrettably,’ Tsi’Drael disdainfully sighed. ‘The
Little One’s compassionate move doomed him.’
Just as Fanger was heading back towards the TARDIS 2,
a stray F-Clone unit had prematurely detonated the Neutronic Fusion Bomb. The Paranormal Time Lord was ensnared within
the explosion before reaching the door.
The Locanshites perceived neutronic radiation was
extremely fatal to Gallifreyans. Mainly
because it impairs the lindotic lymph nodes required for Regeneration. However, if one’s a Gallifreyan Wolf-Being—or Paranormal—there is a slim chance for survival.
‘The Little One obtained a Bioprint.’ D’mias knew as
long as an adequate biological template around, it could be used for providing
a temporal replacement for the irreparable body. In Fanger’s case, since his Tombeurian Wolfish
form was no longer usable, he simply ‘borrowed’
another’s physical form.
‘Possibly from one of his Companions, no doubt,’
Saim’d somberly studied Fanger’s corporeal form. ‘Which explains the Tellurian
biostructure as ours have adapted to as well.’
Captivated with Fanger’s Sixth Incarnate, the
Locanshites were completely unaware for what was yet to come.
‘Do not take that tone with me, Fangarius Ot Genoa,’
another voice heatedly reproached. ‘We’ve taken care of the problem quite
sufficiently. I’m not contacting the High Council, just because you’re paranoid
over some displaced Cybermen!’
The tall man emerged out of the building, vehemently
following Fanger. Long, curly,
blonde-hair, he appeared in good physical condition. But when the Locanshites viewed his attire,
they winced from his fashion nightmare.
They were aware Earth was primitive when it came to clothing, however,
it seemed this man had absolutely no fashion sense whatsoever.
His coat possessed an outlandish plaid design, as if
it had been composed from a forgotten, patchwork quilt. His waistcoat was a bold red gingham dupion
silk, which definitely didn’t properly match the coat. The cravat was turquoise polka-dot. And rounding out the strange ensemble were
his yellow-striped trousers and orange spats over green ankle boots.
The only practical component with his outfit was the
plain white shirt.
‘Sixth Incarnate of the Time Lord, I fear.’ Tsi’Drael
needn’t recognise the stitched question marks on the man’s collar for
identification. He also detected the
subtle bioscent of lindos emanating from him.
‘Affirmative,’ Saim’d narrowed his eyes, analysing
The Doctor’s genetic structure. ‘Regeneration also unstable, but not by
neutronic exposure.’
‘Correct,’ D’mias scanned The Doctor’s lindotic lymph
nodes. ‘Judging from the slight damage, the cause was a toxic one. Though the nodes have healed, there’s
miniscule traces of the contaminate.’ He studied the Time Lord with intent
relevance. ‘Prolonged exposure to spectrox
toxaemia.’ Comprehending many
toxins, he perceived this one was even deadlier than their own venom. ‘As with
the Little One, the Time Lord was fortunate to have regenerated at all.’
Tsi’Drael sighed a bit. Considering the perils Fanger and The Doctor
were always exposing themselves to, he wondered how they managed surviving this
far without utterly using up their Regenerative Cycle.
Ultimately absorbed with their
own private discussion, neither Fanger, nor The Doctor, sensed they were not
alone in San Delos, California, 1962.
The reason behind their oblivious nature was the past several days at the
San Delos University, it had been anything but ordinary.
After acquiring two unexpected Companions, the Sixth
Fanger had set the TARDIS 2 upon a randomised course. He had been working at the Main Console, not
certain on how he had ended up in this state of affairs. One minute he had been pardoned for saving
Gallifrey from an unknown threat, and the next he gained some travelers.
The first Companion was a Feline-Being Tigrisia, known as Tarra. The Paranormal Time Lord met her on the
planet G’nele as he was searching for
Zeitron-7 crystals. After preventing the
Sontarans from destroying her village, and raiding their mines, Fanger
originally planned on slipping away back to the TARDIS 2. Regrettably Tarra secretly followed ahead of
him and entered the blue telephone kiosk.
Not
in the mood for having any more Companions, Fanger instinctively pursued her. Before ushering her out of his craft, a
forgotten Sontaran bomb had gone off in the mines. As the rocks and minerals tumbled over the
TARDIS 2, her Hostile Action Displacement System promptly kicked in,
dematerialising itself away from the cave-in.
Unfortunately since Fanger had not reset her HADS co-ordinate function,
the TARDIS 2 had sent them hurtling halfway through ChronoSpace.
And
since he admitted he arrived on G’nele by pure chance, the Paranormal Time Lord
knew he’d never be able to send Tarra back to her proper time and place right
away.
When
she wasn’t using her perception filter, Tarra’s feline form was revealed. As with Fanger’s previous wolf form, Tarra
possessed light-orange furskin. On her
face and tail she bore her natural stripes, while she had plush-thick fur on
her hands and feet. Her omnimorphic
hands and feet could transform between slender humanesque shape and the giant
claw-tipped paws. But she only used her
feral counterparts whenever she found herself in battle.
Tarra
also had long, flowing, crimson-orange hair, which she kept in a ponytail. Though she liked wearing many dresses and
skirts from the TARDIS 2 Wardrobe, Tarra usually wore her opaque, silk gown.
Companion Number Two came from an unlikely source: the subthermalised world of Mon’Glaci. Recalling
he once studied at the PanGalactic Scientific Institute, he came across a
forgotten classmate. Yuki, a female Frostiger, resembled Tarra, except her furskin and hair
were ice-blue, and she wore her hair in bangs.
Graduating top of her class, she was now a major assistant for the
Cryo-biogenesis Division.
Once
again, the Paranormal Time Lord prevented the infamous MeglaCorp from stealing and marketing their research. Not to mention keeping the Cybermen from
raiding the Cryogenics Lab, where the most famous minds resided. Afterwards, Yuki ended up as a new member of
the TARDIS 2 crew. Regrettably, this was
unplanned because they later uncovered the entire affair as an elaborate plot
of the Master. Naturally he had his own
agenda with the stored geniuses at the PGSI, but Yuki had an idea which only
Fanger could successfully pull off in the TARDIS 2. Transmitting an engineered virus into the
Master’s TARDIS’ Cybernetic Core, it temporally left the vile Time Lord
stranded on one of Mon’Glaci’s moons.
Fearing
the Master might attempt following them, Yuki used a modified NaviComp
Calibrator as a makeshift Randomiser.
The Paranormal Time Lord wasted no time installing and activating it,
thus sending them on a chaotic course into the unknown. But little did Fanger suspect, nothing ever
goes as planned.
While installing the unit, Fanger inadvertently connected
it directly into the Astro-Sextant Rectifier.
The end result enabled the TARDIS 2 with advanced transceiving
capabilities. Meaning the craft could
now attune random signals throughout the Vortex, and expediently triangulate
their source.
Amidst
the infinite sea of transmissions, T-2 suddenly honed in on one intense force
emanating from Earth. She focused its
location being somewhere in California, 1962.
Before the Paranormal Time Lord properly inspected her Time-Space
Tracking display, T-2 automatically took the initiative.
Overriding
the pseudo-Randomiser through her Automatic Emergency Landing circuits, the
TARDIS 2 headed directly towards those co-ordinates. Fanger privately knew T-2 rarely took control
of their flight, unless it was something extremely critical. Investigating T-2’s discovery, Fanger
analysed the transmission signal on Earth.
Observing the destination chronometer, he realised Earth was just barely
entering its Technological Revolution.
Although the people of the Sixties envisioned a sleek, stylish design
when it came to the future. Still Fanger doubted touch-tone phones, or
Telstar, had the capable means for transmitting and receiving this kind of
signal.
As
the blue telephone kiosk materialised at the far corner of the San Delos
University campus, Fanger sagely made some vital preparations. Although he never had any trouble with the
locals, the Paranormal doubt many might accept two Feline-Beings as being normal people.
Entering
briefly into the TARDIS 2 Workshop, Fanger found a silver box on the back
shelf. Considering he never used them,
he was fortunate he still had them.
Returning to the Main Console Room, he opened the box, revealing two onyx-silk
chokers. Handing them to Tarra and Yuki,
he instructed his Companions to put them on.
Tarra
wasn’t certain why Fanger wanted them to wear these items. Yuki identified the accessories were actually
perception filters. Tarra realised the
Paranormal Time Lord seemed always prepared for the unforeseen. She sensed Fanger was keeping them concealed
so they wouldn’t risk any unnecessary danger.
But she wondered why he didn’t require a device.
Yuki
suspected Fanger probably used some telepathic enchantment over the limited
means of a filter.
In all truthfulness, Fanger didn’t have the heart
explaining to Yuki and Tarra the real reason.
He never required any type of deception—Paranormal or electronic—when it
came to his extraterrestrial background.
Essentially because he never felt any need for concealing his true
self. The other reason was something he
learned from his own experiences.
Long
before commencing his own travels, Fanger realised one Universal truth: Tellurians and other lifeforms tend on
believing all—and every—prefabrication rather than accepting the simple truth. Curiously when the truth itself was in plain
sight.
Once
a Legendskeeper, Fanger now comprehended why recorded Earth History never
accurately followed its genuine Chronology.
Back during his earliest Incarnates, Fanger once claimed
he was a child donning a wolf suit. The
story he conjured up (and verified by The Doctor) was he suffered from an
extremely-rare skin disorder. Therefore
the suit was designed as protection from the outside elements.
It
amazed the Paranormal Time Lord how many people readily accepted this account
without reservation. Then again, he
devilishly realised some people mentally conjured up unsettling images about
what he evidently looked like, sans the alleged suit. Due to overactive imaginations, Fanger never
worried about someone attempting on proving the validity of his account.
Nevertheless,
when Fanger underwent his first physical Regeneration, his Fourth self came
across a new revelation: people’s inane
pride over practical sensibility. Fanger
suspected his Fourth Incarnate’s demure and calm persona helped fuel this
factor. As with most Wolf-Beings, he
never really resumed the role his kind were stigmatised by the ill-informed
media.
Whenever
he visited Earth’s Past, Fanger found it strangely fascinating people never
considered him ‘alien’ by any
means. Those people—especially ones from
high society—fashioned the elaborate notion the Paranormal Time Lord came from
some obscure country. Usually the ones
either stemming from mythology, or ones no one really cared about
visiting. But they presumed these areas
obviously existed, since explorers at the time were always coming across such
realms.
When
you calculated in this logic, one understood why nobody dared question this
belief, nor Fanger’s unusual
appearance. Mainly because since the educated elite knew about other
countries and exotic lands, if anyone debated it, they might appear foolish and
illiterate. Apparently since nobody
preferred this possibility, it was better accommodating a lie, than digging up
the truth.
Fanger
definitely witnessed this during his Fifth Incarnate, when he wore that
multicoloured scarf The Doctor had given him.
Whenever he had it on, it seemed hardly anyone batted an eye.
Currently with his humanised physique, the Paranormal
Time Lord ascertained it more remarkable with others’ oblivious nature. Despite retaining his lupine attributes,
people never stopped conjuring forth rational explanations for it.
On
22nd Century Earth, thanks to an odd fad, the Tellurians believed he
was a GenetAug. Basically genetic
augmentation, which seemed more popular than tattoos or piercings, especially
with the social group known as furries. Whereas others feigned witlessness for fear
of offending the Paranormal Time Lord.
Overall Fanger never bothered disguising himself for one
underlying fact: he was absolutely
comfortable with who he is, and cared less over what others thought about
him. In fact, this was why he never
troubled himself fixing the TARDIS 2’s Chameleon Circuit. Her unique outer interface always kept others
off-their-guard, and it gave the Paranormal Time Lord some insight on whom he
was dealing with at times.
Nonetheless,
Fanger decided it best if his Companions concealed their true selves. When it came to suspending disbelief, even
the Tellurians had their limits. Right
now, the last thing Fanger needed was unwarranted hysteria.
Preoccupied with the mastery of illusion versus one’s
sensibility, the Paranormal Time Lord was unwittingly caught off-guard by the
unforeseen occurrence about to unfold.
One interesting trait both Time Lords and Paranormals
share is Chronotelemetry. In other words, they can acquire psychic
impressions from ordinary objects, except rather than just obtain a current
impression, they can literally receive Past, Present and—sometimes—Future
events from them. Unfortunately, since
this ability has never been properly fine-tuned, the difficulty comes from
determining what exactly can trigger it.
Not to mention deciphering the random psychic images themselves, since
one cannot tell if they originate from Past, Present or Future Events connected
with the object in-question.
Such
as in this case, Fanger’s trigger came from the prefabricated Randomiser.
Conducting some last-minute checks with the Main Console,
the Paranormal Time Lord’s hand casually moved over the makeshift component.
As
he established contact with the device, Fanger instantaneously received images
within his mind.
The
first formed a man with dark-curly hair and an infectious smile. His attire was composed of a full-length
maroon coat, waistcoat, trousers, buccaneer-esque boots, a Poet’s Hat, a white
open-neck dress shirt with question marks adorning the collars and a new
scarf. The scarf appeared longer than
his previous scarves, and was maroon with a red-purple colour scheme. Definitely far different than his usual
multicoloured version to say the least.
Fanger
recognised the figure as the Fourth Doctor.
He recalled this particular incarnation lasted quite a while than the
others did. Then again, he recalled
managing to keep his Third self for about four of The Doctor’s incarnations, up
towards the Time Lord’s Fifth self, if his memory served.
The
Doctor was accompanied by a young, beautiful woman and a robotic dog.
Romana. Fanger vaguely recollected attending
some classes with her at the Academy. K-9. He remembered The Doctor was given the original by
Professor Marius. But this one was a
newer model, since Fanger remembered seeing the original with Leela back on
Gallifrey.
Before
making sense from these obscure images, Fanger felt his mindscape transport him
to a plethora of places.
The
first stop was Ribos, where The
Doctor had located and gained possession of a rare mineral called Jethrik.
Fanger then found himself on the infamous pirate planet, Zanak, where the Time Lord managed
collecting the compressed planet Calufrax.
One
unexpected location turned out being Earth, where The Doctor stopped the infamous Cessair from using the Orgi there. Fanger shuddered at the thought of witnessing
Tellurian-consuming stones running rampant on the planet. Nevertheless, the Time Lord had snatched the Great Seal of Diplos from her before the
Megara—sentient justice
machines—sentenced her.
This
telepathic excursion gave little clue for the Paranormal Time Lord upon why he
was receiving these images. His
curiosity kept resuming the mental course, since he attempted locating some
commonality amongst these images.
There
was a statue on Tara, where some
idiot had a scheme for using androids for usurping a kingdom. Next came The Doctor defeating a monster
called Kroll on the Delta Manga moon. It revealed the Time Lord meant on retrieving
the holy relic belonging to the Swampies
there.
Finally
came Princess Astra of Atrios.
The
Paranormal Time Lord confusedly pondered over this intergalactic scavenger
hunt, until he noticed the items and people in question transform into
crystalline segments. Fanger watched as
they assembled themselves into the perfect cube.
The Chronos’ Key. Of course, others commonly referred to it as
the Key to Time. It amazed him how most preferred the
uncreative names over the original ones.
But he couldn’t blame them, since the Chronos’ Key was part of the Con’tridite. Meaning it wasn’t common knowledge. Otherwise, every being—including the Time
Lords—would be endlessly ripping the Universe apart hunting for it.
Nonetheless,
Fanger did recall the Fourth Doctor’s specialised quest. Mainly because the intense disruption of Time
had mysteriously placed his Third self into a temporary comatose state. When The Doctor had assembled the Key, Fanger
had awakened, as well as helping the White Guardian realign the ChronoSphere.
Regrettably,
The Doctor had also outwitted the Black Guardian, before scattering the
segments back into the Universe. Unless
you were incredibly bold, remarkably stupid, or just completely apathetic,
getting the better of the Black Guardian was not something one dared. Not if you no longer desired living or
existing. And the Time Lord perceived
the being was hardly going to be amused with his stunt.
The
Fourth Doctor, however, recalled an invention Fanger had come up with for such
an emergency. The Randomiser was
promptly installed onto the TARDIS Main Console and activated. Originally The Doctor intended utilising it
as a proper means of escape from the Black Guardian.
Ironically
Fanger knew this wasn’t one of his godfather’s best plans. The Randomiser was meant for preventing the
High Council, or other renegades, from accurately following the TARDIS. The problem was the Black Guardian’s domain
was chaos and random forces. Meaning the
device was rather useless, but the Paranormal Time Lord suspected Hild had interfered with the Black
Guardian.
Before
Fanger contemplated on this oddity, another completely weird event came into
play.
Without warning, the Paranormal Time Lord received an
image. The figure appeared as a
auburn-haired, young man. For some
reason, he was wearing a dark, Western-khaki shirt, with pearl-buttons upon the
breast pockets. His wolf’s tail poked
out of his dark jeans, indicating he might be either one of Fanger’s relations,
or Future Incarnate.
It
wasn’t impossible since Fanger had met The Inquisitor back in his Fourth
Incarnate. But he couldn’t sense any
Fangarian connection with this one.
As
the figured turned facing the Paranormal
Time Lord, he revealed his golden-brown, serpentine-eyes and crimson-violet
bioglyphs upon his face.
Fanger
directly identified the being as a Locanshite.
Except his mind forewarned him about this particular one. He vaguely recalled Travarias Charon telling
him about such a Wolf-Being. Not to
mention, the Ancient Tombeuric Legends recording this Locanshite’s escapades.
Whatever
the case, the Locanshite was not one he had ever encountered before in his
travels. And perhaps one Fanger really
didn’t care to meet.
The
Locanshite contemptuously smiled, his bottom lip inexplicably stained
crimson-violet. Eyes narrowing at
Fanger, he seemed as if he was staring directly into the Paranormal Time Lord’s
soul.
Little one…
‘Tsi’Drael..’
The ambiguous name automatically
escaped from his lips. Fanger failed
ascertaining where, or how, he obtained the identification. He certainly knew he never came across this
person from his travels, yet, the memory insisted he had somehow. Perhaps from the days he attended the
Prydonian Academy, but he was definitely certain no Locanshites had ever
attended. The only one he really knew of
on Gallifrey was C’el Kinet. And it was
rumoured he was a member of the infamous Cal’Del,
the covert terrorist group consisting of Paranormals and Ancients. So it was hardly unlikely C’el ever attended
the Academy.
‘What?’ Tara presumed Fanger
uttered in ancient incantation.
‘Hmm..’ Fanger blinked. The brief telepathic images dematerialised
from his mind, severing the Chronotelemetric link.
‘You said, “Tsi’Drael.” ’ Yuki astutely noted. ‘Is it an important reference?’
Frowning bemusedly, the
Paranormal Time Lord still hadn’t any clue behind the strange nom de
plume. Nevertheless, he considered their
destination took top priority over his private musings.
‘No,’ he dismissively remarked.
‘Just a passing thought accidentally becoming heard, I fear.’
Opening the doors, Fanger calmly
led his Companions out of the TARDIS 2.
For Yuki and
Tarra, it was definitely a wondrous experience.
They had never been on Earth before, let alone a university campus. While they enjoyed the lush, green forest,
white sands and salty sea air, Fanger detected something amiss about the
tranquil scene.
The Paranormal Time Lord never
fancied the Californian climate. The hot
atmosphere made it difficult pinpointing the exact season. Summer or not, however, Fanger realised the
campus shouldn’t be this deserted. Yuki
suspected the students and professors were inside their respective classrooms.
Speculating this oddity, Fanger
examined his chronometer. Determining it
was the late afternoon, he knew at least a majority of the classes should have
already been dismissed.
Amidst their investigation,
Fanger and his Companions came across the Sixth Doctor. Accompanying the Time Lord was a young,
auburn-haired woman.
Fanger and the woman warmly
greeted each other. For she was none
other than Perpugilliam Brown, or Peri for short. She was one of the
Paranormal Time Lord’s American cousins.
Without fail, Fanger introduced Yuki and Tarra to his cousin and
godfather.
Consequently, The Doctor was
hardly amused with the reunion. The Time
Lord wondered what Fanger was thinking, bringing alien beings (albeit
concealed) on Earth. Then accused the
Paranormal Time Lord for his and Peri’s unscheduled mishap. Apparently the same inexplicable force had
also diverted the TARDIS completely off-course.
Naturally The Doctor had no desire arriving in California—particularly
in 1962. Fanger deftly indicated his innocence,
stating his craft had undergone the same anomaly.
Before any heated discussion
developed between Fanger and The Doctor, the TARDIS and TARDIS 2 instantly
established contact with one another.
Sharing information about their circumstances, the vessels confirmed the
cause was a signal originating from their current location.
Realising the only frequency
being able to penetrate the Time Vortex was a psi-tachyon beta wave, The Doctor
and Fanger decided they better investigate.
They both perceived psi-tachyon technology would not be fully developed
on Earth for another twenty years or so.
And even then, the only thing it could do was transceive signals through
N-Space itself.
During their investigation,
Fanger discovered an ominous fad amongst the alumni. Students and professors were wearing strange
earpieces, and sporting emotionless expressions. In fact, most were hardly stunned with
finding both a police box, and blue telephone kiosk, on campus.
Encountering a young man lacking
an earpiece, he explained what had occurred several months prior to the Time
Lords’ arrival. Dressed in a leather
jacket, white T-Shirt, blue jeans and dark boots, he was known as Talon.
According to Talon, a mysterious
inventor known as Dr. Carl Cypher, had come to the San Delos University. Learning this place possessed the lowest
education rate of learning, the inventor came up with an experimental
solution. Offering a more efficient way of learning, Dr. Cypher
produced the earpiece.
At first, the university board
was skeptical about the apparatus, until Dr. Cypher explained they were
remotely connected to a specialised computer network called CA’TELUR.
Fanger reacted upon hearing the
name, as if a forgotten memory had been awakened. But he let Talon continue on how CA’TELUR was
supposedly a unique data storage unit.
Containing all the knowledge, and various subjects, on Earth, CA’TELUR
educated by directly feeding the desired information into one’s brain.
The Doctor and Fanger were
greatly suspicious of this process.
Being versed in symbioengineering, the Paranormal Time Lord considered
it remarkably sounded more like direct
brain access. Understanding his
godchild’s concerns, The Doctor knew anyone controlling CA’TELUR could easily
control the subjects without fail. After
all, the Time Lord bitterly recalled when WOTAN had been put into operation in
England. Neither of them wanted another
power-mad, sentient computer running amok on the planet.
Talon had taken them to one of
the upgraded classrooms, where one of
the CA’TELUR modules had been installed.
Examining the module meticulously, Fanger noticed it definitely gave the
illusion of Sixties technology. The
module was about the size of a giant cabinet, nearly filling up one end of the
room. It also contained magnetic core
memory, data tapes run on spools, punch cards for input/output information and
randomly flashing lights.
But when Yuki studied the
module’s inner workings, connections, and the screen neatly set within its
centre, she confirmed the apparatus was beyond anything coming from 20th
Century Earth. She proved this by having
the module perform a rather unique mathematical formula.
As the module produced the
result, Fanger acknowledged the equations used wouldn’t appear until the 22nd
Century. Concurring with his godchild (a
rare occurrence), The Doctor decided they better investigate his anomaly a bit
deeper.
After some thorough inspection,
Fanger and The Doctor discovered one of their old nemesis was definitely behind
this so-called revolutionary learning. Regrettably while they fought against them,
the Paranormal Time Lord had realised these weren’t the standard Cybermen they
usually encountered.
Despite defeating them,
returning everything back to its proper state, and eliminating any anachronistic
technology, Fanger still had some reservations about the event.
‘Paranoid?’ Fanger stopped, then spun round. The Doctor abruptly halted, almost causing
Peri, Yuki and Tarra to collide into him.
With swift precision, Fanger
deftly dug his right hand into his jacket pocket. Extracting an oblong, crystalline vial, he
held it up for The Doctor.
‘Does this indicate I’m “paranoid,”
Doctor?’
Within the elongated container
there was a peculiar, opaque substance.
Stretched out, it appeared elastic and as if Fanger had surgically
extracted it from a vertebrae. Although
the cryptic item meant absolutely nothing to The Doctor, Tsi’Drael
automatically recognised it as a neuronet interface.
Or putting it simply, a synthetic nervous system.
Except this ‘spinal cord’ was distinctive since it apparently could function
without a brain. From his extensive knowledge,
Fanger knew this component was far more than just a mere replication.
‘What?’ The Doctor frowned, not
certain what his godchild was showing him. ‘An element from one of those
things?’ He inspected the vial unimpressed. ‘Proves nothing, we’ve viewed
cybernetic parts before, Fangarius.’ He dismissively remarked.
‘No, Doctor,’ Fanger cautiously
turned the vial, examining his specimen. ‘This biosample—though synthetic—is
certainly not cybernetic by any
means.’
D’mias and Saim’d
analysed the substance, confirming the Paranormal Time Lord’s suspicions. The ‘component’
contained the essential means for a substitute nervous system. Neurons, axons and synapses were accurately
duplicated down to the neurotransmitters and glial cells. Judging from their own assessment, the Gm’nai
comprehended Fanger’s sudden concern.
Fanger admitted he
did not extract this biosample from a Cyberman, but from one of their
victims. Peri winced, recalling when her
cousin inadvertently removed it from one of the ‘processed’ students.
Apologising for the
unintentional insensitivity, he continued inspecting the biosample. ‘The structure has exceptional, biochemical
adaptation qualities, Doctor. Apparently
it can not only replace one’s central nervous system, by installing itself to a
being’s medulla, but also immediately assimilates the peripheral nervous system
as well.’
‘So it can efficiently take over
an organic host,’ The Doctor sternly concluded. ‘It just proves the Cybermen
have attempted a better means for converting living beings! That’s no reason
for us to contact the—’
‘I never said we should contact
the High Council,’ Fanger replaced the vial back into his pocket. ‘Both you and
I know exactly what they would do.’ He somberly added.
When Peri nervously inquired
about the High Council, Yuki reluctantly stated they considered the Cybermen as
an infection. And with all viral
contagions, the proper solution was complete sterilisation.
Thus resulting in Earth’s
possible demise.
‘And just whom should we report this to, hmm?’ The Doctor demanded.
‘Perhaps the Shadow
Proclamation..’ Fanger was secretly grasping at straws, he knew the Galactic
Police had their hands full. And the
PanGalactic Administration were far too preoccupied with their own political
agenda to worry about such things.
The Doctor nearly laughed at the
Paranormal Time Lord’s suggestion. ‘Oh, yes. Have a bunch of anthropomorphic
rhinos marching all about the place, putting the entire planet under
quarantine.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘That’d
definitely go over well with UNIT,’ he envisioned the possible devastating
chaos of the Judoon besieging Earth. ‘Not to mention this planet’s military.’
Judging from their
heated tones and tense atmosphere, Tsi’Drael privately discerned the Time
Lords’ debate would commence for several hours.
After all, the Little One was
equally stubborn as the Time Lord. Even
if The Doctor did provide some valid points.
One of the problems with intergalactic justice was nowadays nobody ever
investigated possible threats. Much as
he hated admitting it, the Time Lord was regrettably correct.
The latest trend was treating
such threats as malignant tumors.
Therefore, if they required swift excising, they did it without an
afterthought. Regardless if it meant innocent lives were sacrificed in the
process. Tsi’Drael speculated how these
galaxies still remained intact with this drastic method.
This gave the Locanshite even
more justification behind his intricate plans.
Still, Tsi’Drael admired
Fanger’s tenacity, if not this compelling desire for responsibility. And also
why the Locanshite became rather astonished when Fanger uncharacteristically
relented.
Or so it seemed.
Recently Fanger
scruntised this Doctor very meticulously.
Not solely because the man had nearly strangled Peri after his
Regeneration. But because the Paranormal
Time Lord registered his godfather’s consistent arrogance and
self-absorbance. Despite The Doctor
secretly did not tolerate any type of injustice.
Fanger knew his godfather
assisted others when needed, then preferred slipping into the shadows. The Time Lord never fancied fame or rewards
for his tasks. As for the Paranormal
Time Lord, subterfuge didn’t always quite come so easy for him. He once recalled back in his Third self he
had inadvertently fallen into the Earth spotlight. Back then, he forgot how people love taking
pictures of unusual events. When he used
his Paranormal capabilities for saving a village from a crumbling dam, some
passerby had taken his photo. Afterwards
Fanger found himself dodging the media every now and again, while conducting
his investigations.
Several incarnates later,
however, Fanger observed his godfather was starting to fall into this careless
attitude.
Basically where after you’ve
dispatched the threat, you simply leave the pieces behind for the local to deal
with the aftermath. Thus, developing
some foolish hope everything would just work out.
The Paranormal Time Lord learned
from experience, this concept rarely occurred, and you’d really end up making
everything worse than what they originally were before. He presumed The Doctor might have learned
this after what happened with Leela’s people, the Sevateem and their once
nemesis, the Tesh.
Nonetheless, Fanger realised he
required implementing some decisive tact at this point. Instinctively, he anger desperately wanted
him to lash out at his mule-headed godfather.
Conjuring up a creative argument
like: ‘FINE! LEAVE IT
THEN!’ Adding it with a brilliant retort, such as: ‘AND WHEN THESE NEW CYBERMEN CONVERT THIS PLANET, DON’T YOU COME CRYING TO
ME!’
But recalling how sharp tongues only have extremely
little effect against The Doctor, the Paranormal Time Lord considered using
some Fangarian strategy instead.
Antagonism dissolving from his face, Fanger produced
rather an inspired expression for The Doctor.
One rendering the Time Lord speechless, since he now discerned his
godchild was up to something. And with
Fanger, one never quite knew what exactly those schemes were.
‘Actually, Doctor,’ his blue eyes established contact
with The Doctor’s. ‘You’re absolutely right. Yuki, Tarra, we’ve overstayed our
welcome.’ He called to them. ‘Getting the authorities involved might prove a
bit rash. Best we keep this under wraps, I suppose.’
‘Fangarius,’ The Doctor refused conceding to his
godchild’s coyness. ‘What are you planning to do?’
‘No, no,’ Fanger peacefully held up his hand, while
his Companions headed towards the blue telephone kiosk. ‘I realise you’ve an
extremely busy agenda, and I’ve no right monopolising it over much ado about
nothing.’
Whenever Fanger subtly inserted Shakespeare into his
speech, The Doctor definitely knew there were ulterior motives.
The Paranormal Time Lord steadily followed Yuki and
Tara back towards the TARDIS 2.
‘Which is why I’ll go pay Washu a little visit,’ he
innocently remarked. ‘I’m quite certain she’ll be quite fascinated with my
discovery.’
Upon mentioning Washu’s name,
Fanger inadvertently caused three beings’ blood chill from hearing it.
One, naturally, was The Doctor. Especially since he never expected his
godchild dared take this route.
The others were D’mias and Saim’d. They also pondered about why Fanger mentioned
her.
Tsi’Drael, on the other hand, remained serene from
hearing the name. In his opinion, he
never comprehended why others placed such emotional ties on one’s
nomenclature. But even he knew Washu was
not someone you took lightly.
While The Doctor had been
temporarily rendered speechless, Peri attempted stifling a giggle. On one rare instance, they had come across
Washu during their excursions. From what
she learned, Peri knew Washu and The Doctor didn’t quite get along.
Astonishment subsiding, The Doctor finally regained
control of his vocal chords.
‘Now, Fangarius,’ he softly coaxed. ‘I don’t see any
reason why we must have your godmother invol—’
‘No,’ Fanger stopped at the TARDIS 2 door as Yuki and
Tarra entered the craft. ‘Better safe than sorry.’
At this moment, Tsi’Drael
acknowledged one anomaly with the Paranormal Time Lord’s behaviour. Fanger stopped briefly in mid-thought. Narrowing his eyes, he peered over towards the
direction where the Locanshites were concealed.
Not demonstrating his apprehension, Tsi’Drael felt a
probable realisation surge through his entire body.
Did the Little One just sense
our presence?
Fanger broke from the brief trance.
Stepping through the threshold, he turned and gave The Doctor and Peri a
devilish grin.
‘Goodbye, Peri.’ He
glanced towards his cousin, ‘I enjoyed seeing you again.’ He then looked at The
Doctor. ‘Can’t say the same for the company you keep.’ He slipped inside the
kiosk, uttering one more phrase before closing its door. ‘Ah, well, can’t be
helped, I suppose.’
The kiosk’s top
spire began emitting a soft white pulse of light. Winds stirring slightly, the atmosphere
became filled with the sounds of strange wheezing, almost like an elephant’s
blare, mixed with cacophonous tunes of machinery. The kiosk’s solid form shimmered slightly,
slowly fading away, becoming indistinct, until there was an outline of its
structure. Dispersing completely, the
TARDIS 2 dematerialised, journeying back into ChronoSpace.
Observing the
departure, The Doctor’s bewilderment gradually diminished from his body. Apparently Fanger’s off-remark had finally
established contact with the Time Lord’s brain.
‘Can’t be helped..’ The Doctor uttered the words, not
certain what his godson had really meant. ‘Can’t
be helped…’ Blood boiling, he couldn’t shake the feeling he had been
insulted. Face absolutely flushed red,
he gave Peri an accusing stare. ‘CAN’T
BE HELPED?!’
Peri sensed another giggle attempting escape from her
lips. Specifically when she noticed The
Doctor now concentrating hard at the spot where the TARDIS 2 had been
standing. Almost as if he could summon
her cousin back and give the Wolf-Being a well-deserved thumping.
‘Of all the unmitigated nerve!’ The Doctor blustered
out the words. He desperately wanted a
better phrase to follow his disgust. But
his rage only allowed him the use of this cliché phrase: ‘Just who does he
think he is? Telling me off like that, eh?’
Peri rolled her eyes at his umpteenth temper-tantrum. Considering she knew The Doctor was much
older than her cousin, she wished the Time Lord would demonstrate a more mature
attitude.
‘Well, honestly, Doctor,’ she wanted to sound
put-out, but it came out as if she was amused by his antics. ‘Can you really
blame him?’
Before getting embroiled in another one of The
Doctor’s harangues—albeit delayed—Peri sagely retreated to the TARDIS.
‘Where do you think you’re going, Ms. Brown?’ He
suspiciously inquired, not fancying being ignored. But The Doctor had been more bemused than
infuriated with her uncharacteristic behaviour.
Usually whenever he engaged in one of his rants, Peri never hesitated in
debating him on some incessant topic.
Normally it dealt with something insignificant as intergalactic
etiquette, or ethical nonsense about being responsible for his own actions.
Secretly that’s what he truly resented. For six incarnates, The Doctor felt he was
far more responsible than all of his Companions combined. After all, he never told Susan to bring those
meddlesome teachers to the scrapyard.
And it certainly wasn’t his idea of entering the Land of Fiction,
because some frightened Highlander thought the TARDIS wasn’t lava-proof.
If anyone was irresponsible, it had to be the High
Council. The Doctor felt their
Non-Intervention policies was the most irresponsible thing they had ever
established. All because they foolishly
decided on enlightening the Minyan race with their advanced knowledge without
proper wisdom. As a result, the Minyans
almost destroyed their planet with a nuclear war. When in reality, it was the High Council who
destroyed Minyos with a Timeonic Fusion
Device.
Before getting lost in his thoughts, The Doctor
focused back on the topic at hand. Peri
was returning back to the TARDIS without one word of discussion. Except for answering his query, that is.
‘Back to the TARDIS,’ she flatly stated. ‘You said so
yourself, Doctor, we’ve defeated the Cybermen. I don’t see any reason why we
need to hang around here anymore.’
Under normal circumstances, Peri would have preferred
staying here in California. With all the
alien worlds and different times, she really could do with a bit of a
holiday. Experience with The Doctor told
her the odds of coming back here were not favourable.
Yet, her intuition forewarned she and The Doctor were
not alone. Though her cousin had
departed, she sensed another presence lurking amidst the inviting beachfront
scene. When her eyes came across the
shaded bench, she felt chills surge through her spine.
Little did she suspect her fears weren’t unfounded.
Peri assumed she was viewing an empty bench under the
rustling trees near the beach. Unknowingly
she had established eye contact with Tsi’Drael.
Autonomically, the
Locanshite’s serpentine pupils narrowed into thin lines. Tsi’Drael instantly analysed Peri’s genetic
structure from her optic nerves, comprehending everything about the young woman. Essentially Ms. Brown’s primary biostructure
was indeed Tellurian.
Singular cardiovascular system… limited
respiratory system.. biothermal point of normality: 37 degrees Celsius…
Tsi’Drael rifled through her DNA as if it was a
book, until he came across come intriguing chromosomes. Latent lupisotima
genes were neatly intertwined amongst the double-helix, as well as some
intriguing proteins. The genetic
encryption added up to one intriguing detail:
Peri Brown was categorically Fangarian.
Judging from her BioData, she was a distant blood relation, perhaps a
cousin.
Hardly extraordinary, Tsi’Drael comprehended the
Fangarian Clanstribe possessed otherworldly relations. The Fangarians were the first employing
intergalactic associations, political and personal, as a means for establishing
peace. In truth, the only amazing thing
the Locanshite considered was actually encountering such a relation.
If not for his own personal agenda, nor concerned
with The Doctor discovering his presence, Tsi’Drael greatly favoured the chance
for examining this specimen more closely.
The Doctor hesitated. Also
glancing over towards the bench, he suspected Peri may have been right. The truth was Fanger and he had performed
quite a number upon the CA’TELUR Network.
Despite Yuki and
Fanger successfully converting the computer into a Sixties analog/digital
system, the Time Lord perceived the authorities would still come round the
campus to investigate.
Instinctively The
Doctor never cottoned authorities figures, but not for their investigative
skills, mind you, but this appalling trait of making extremely senseless
inquiries about the obvious. The last
thing he wanted enduring was them asking him about how a false inventor managed
showing up from nowhere, then vanishing without a trace unexpectedly. The problem with these types was they never
knew when to leave well enough alone.
Opening the door,
The Doctor permitted Peri on entering the TARDIS first.
Before following
her inside, the Time Lord reluctantly surveyed the scene one more time. Almost as if he was seeking for something he
had absent-mindedly overlooked. Frowning
a bit, he quietly shook his head before closing the door.
Once again, the winds
blew round the police box, while its lamp started pulsating. The atmosphere once again was inundated with
the familiar dematerialisation sound.
The solid structure shimmered, then faded slowly away, until the TARDIS
had vanished completely.
The Locanshites astutely observed the TARDIS dematerialising from the
university campus. Touching his
windbreaker’s top collar button, deactivating his perception filter. D’mias and Saim’d followed suit, speculating
on their next move.
Ignoring his
associates, and the strange demonstrative scene recently played out, Tsi’Drael
narrowed his eyes.
One aspect about the Locanshite Clanstribe is their advanced knowledge
and skills are attributed for their detachment of their emotions. Some even claim the Time Lords patterned
their formal natures from the Locanshites, since they discovered it was more
productive being well-reserved than reactionary.
But for
Locanshites, maintaining these emotions under wraps was not always an easy
feat. Essentially because they rarely
had the proper experience on dealing with these sensations. Specifically when these sensations kept
materialising in unexpected ways.
For instance,
Tsi’Drael was experiencing what one might denote as resentment, originating
from the perception he just had been made a fool of by a Time Lord and a
Fangarian. Normally the Locanshite
merely shoved these irrational emotions back into his mind, not giving them one
quota of acknowledgement. But their
intoxicating effect subtly broke down his reservations, as his next statement
caught the Gm’nai twins off-guard.
‘J’Kalahn,’ Tsi’Drael icily protested
through clenched fangs. He was steadily breathing, attempting on diffusing this
inexplicable fury. ‘Sigma.. Fangarius Ot Genoa.. you dare challenge me..’ His pupils were now dark slits. ‘Tsi’Drael?’
The Gm’nai froze on
the disturbing fact of not how
Tsi’Drael initiated the statement. But
more upon what Tsi’Drael was saying
within the statement.
First off,
Locanshites have never had any reason for using expletives. They considers such things impractical,
illogical and having no productive purpose.
Particularly when their emotional states reached critical points beyond
self-containment. Besides these
exclamations rarely subjugated these states as one usually presumed.
Another factor was
Tsi’Drael using The Doctor and Fanger’s names.
The truth was nobody knew The Doctor’s true nomenclature after he
graduated from the Academy. Fanger
simply preferred the extremely abbreviated nickname over his semi-full nom de
plume, stating once he felt it a bit on the pompous side.
Strong winds
permeating the atmosphere, D’mias and Saim’d perceived this was not originating
from the ocean, nor the planetary polar streams. Regardless of their technological and
scientific aspects, the Locanshites were still and foremost Paranormals. One primary reason this Clanstribe kept their
emotions contained was because they also greatly affected their preternatural
attributes. Meaning unless they diffused
Tsi’Drael’s temper, everyone would definitely be made aware of their presence.
Tsi’Drael retained
the means for annihilating the entire facility, and possibly the surrounding
area, without a solitary thought. And
this was only when the Locanshite might find himself in what one might denote
as ‘a bad mood.’
Saim’d bravely
elected on taking the chance of incurring Tsi’Drael’s wrath. The only logical option was pointing out a
curious item they had overheard from Fanger and The Doctor’s conversation.
‘Cybermen,’ he expediently recalled the
archaic phrase, not wondering why he felt it was relevant. ‘Were they making
reference to—’
For once, Tsi’Drael
was in no mood for Saim’d’s unrequested exposition. Rather odd, since usually Saim’d always
provided some informative data
amongst his incessant clarification.
Tsi’Drael never ascertained if it the source was Saim’d articulation,
the alleged slight he witnessed, or the strange force rising up throughout
every molecule of his being. Amidst
everything he pondered if this was what the Lesser Beings denoted as seething.
Whatever the case,
little did Saim’d—or D’mias—realise the trivial stratagem had only ignited
these sensations, not extinguish them.
And like a revived volcano, Tsi’Drael erupted without warning.
‘AFFIRMATIVE,
SAIM’D GM’NAI!’ Tsi’Drael’s
electronic modulation emerged as he heatedly turned towards them. ‘I
AM NOT IGNORANT OF OUR PAST. I AM FULLY COGNIzANT OF THE CA’TELUR PROJECT!’
Mysteriously the outburst had instantly quelled the raging storm from
within. Witnessing his stunned
expressions of his associates, Tsi’Drael ashamedly realised he allowed his
primitive instincts control over his actions.
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes momentarily.
‘Apologies, Saim’d’
he placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. His voice now returning back
softly in a low tone. ‘You are not
culpable for my distress. Nor should you,’ he placed another hand on D’mias.
‘Nor your Frelan, should become the recipients of my illogical aggression.’
While the Locanshites were preoccupied with their conversation, they
were oblivious of an uninvited guest lumbering through the bushes. Anybody else would have been hopelessly
ambushed by the intruder, but then again, the being probably never had dealt
with Wolf-Beings.
‘Warning,’ D’mias
ears detected crunching twigs. Judging from the resonation, it didn’t sound
like a normal figure. The bioscent also
confirmed the intruder wasn’t exactly human. ‘Hostile form approaching from the
east. Identity: Unknown.’
Instinctively
jumping directly in front of Tsi’Drael, the Gm’nai twins promptly entered into
defensive mode. D’mias and Saim’d were
now standing in Locan K’lai position,
prepared for any threat this planet dared hurl at them.
Tsi’Drael analysed
the faint bioscent. It did have a subtle
consommé viande
signature to it. Perhaps one of the
planet’s native creatures had been inexplicably lured to this residential
area. Possibly in search of some
long-needed nourishment. Although he
didn’t comprehend why it would approach them.
As far as they knew, they hadn’t kept any consumables on them since
their incarceration.
Emerging
from the foliage, the figure proved it was hardly any Tellurian creature. Composed of an extremely manganese-steel
alloy, the metallic-humanoid creature appeared rather disoriented than
menacing. The Gm’nai identified the bizarre
individual as a Cyberman. However, it definitely wasn’t any cyberform
they had ever encountered.
Expediently
inspecting the Cyberman’s physical structure, Tsi’Drael noticed its exoskeleton
resembled more like a sleek, humanesque suit of armour. Studying this specimen a bit further, he
comprehended Fanger’s sudden trepidation.
From his own
personal encounters, Tsi’Drael recalled most earlier versions of Cybermen
favoured the humanoid figure sheathed in liquid metal cloth. Of course, both exoskeletons had cybernetic
joints set appropriately on their upper arms and thighs as a means for
increased strength. But if memory
served, the original unit’s head was a featureless, cylindrical shape with
visual receptors and vocalisation box.
This unexpected model’s head was shaped more like a human skull. The cranial section appeared to be
transparent, composed of some kind of Plexiglas.
Remarkably where an
advanced biocomputer was supposed to be, there was a living, human brain. Tsi’Drael noticed it was immersed within a
protein solution, set at about six degrees Celsius.
‘Affirmative.’
D’mias cautiously observed its erratic behaviour. ‘Apparently it has a
neuro-inhibitor installed for repressing all emotional activity, directly
linked to the simulated nervous system.’
The displaced
Cyberman instantly acknowledged the Locanshites.
‘WHERE
AM I?’ The vocalisation box sounded as if it had sustained
damage. The Cyberman staggered slightly,
as it started giving out stimulus responses.
‘what have you done.. to me?’
Sensing reactionary
tones with its response, Saim’d figured out the strange anomaly.
‘Neuro-inhibitor has either been deactivated or malfunctioning. Possibly as a
result from it being disconnected with its Cyber-leader.’
‘WHAT
HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?’ Ignoring Saim’d’s elaborate diagnosis, the Cyberman
re-issued its demand.
Anyone else might
have ran in terror, but Tsi’Drael bore no anxiety, nor animosity, towards this
abomination.
‘Foolish cyberform,
we have performed nothing upon you.’ He flatly insisted. ‘You are merely an
unwilling participant from what was considered to be a long-forgotten project.
Nothing more.’
‘LIAR.’
Raising his right arm at fore, the Cyberman opened
his hand. Fingertips were now crackling
with bioelectric force, aimed straight for Tsi’Drael.
NANO-ELECTRODES.. Tsi’Drael
sighed. For a supposedly-upgraded unit,
the Cybermen designer was rather antediluvian when it came to efficient
arsenals.
Not even flinching,
the Locanshite’s pupils once again became slits.
The Cyberman never
knew what hit him. Before he could even
activate his weapon, D’mias and Saim’d deftly launched their assault. With lightning precision, Saim’d leaped over
behind the Cyberman’s back.
Extracting his
claws, Saim’d efficiently sliced through its exoskeleton as if was butter. The Cyberman’s systems now exposed, the
Locanshite warrior performed another swipe, severing the threaded spinal cord
in half. The result forced the intruder
to lower its arm, deactivating its weapon, as its motor functions were
completely impaired.
As the Cyberman was
sufficiently disarmed, D’mias immediately stood between it and Tsi’Drael. Taking account its central processing unit
was living matter than sophisticated electronics, D’mias perceived his
attribute was sufficiently effective against it. Thrusting out his right arm, he positioned it
level with the Cyberman’s face. Opening
his palm, it crackled with polychromatic force.
Unleashing his Mesmer Stasis Beam, D’mias directed the bolts into the
Cyberman’s optic receptors.
Exoskeleton illuminating
with the same force, the Cyberman’s brain emitted sparks. Short-circuiting the remnants of its central
nervous system, the Mesmer Stasis Beam caused the Cyberman to fall upon its
knees.
The Gm’nai twins
promptly returned to Tsi’Drael’s side, approving their efficient dispatching of
the oncoming threat. Tsi’Drael
scrutinised the felled Cyberman, unimpressed by this construction. In his opinion, this version contained
several flaws within its design.
Approaching the defeated being, he slightly cocked his head, frowning at
it.
‘Pitiful creature,’
he detected its dying thoughts. ‘Although disoriented, you immensely desire
your liberation from this abhorrence, do you not?’ One component catching the Locanshite’s eye
was the Cyberman’s cap-like structure set upon its chest. Reaching for the circular module, Tsi’Drael
delicately wrapped his fingers round it.
As his fingertips
touched over the cap’s edge, the Locanshite covertly extracted his claws. Subtly releasing his caustic venom, he
immediately transformed the manganese-steel round the cap into liquid
metal. Tsi’Drael then poked his fingers
into the melted area while keeping his palm over the cap unit. ‘Well, then,’ he dexterously moved his hand
in a clockwise-motion, releasing venom within, corroding the nano-circuits and
connections. Satisfied with the result,
he stopped, tightening his grip on the cap. ‘Permit me on granting your
request.’ He chillingly whispered.
Forcefully
extracting the cap from the Cybermen, Tsi’Drael brought forth the cylindrical
attachment from its chest cavity. The
result produced a chaotic shower of sparks, convulsive jerks from the being. Bioelectric force draining from its body, the
Cyberman crashed to the ground. The
Locanshites watched as the fluid became dark , the brain shriveling up and the
optic receptors going completely black.
Tsi’Drael cared not
for the disposed Cyberman, but the chest unit cylinder he now held in his right
hand.
‘Peculiar,’ he
inspected the strange apparatus, ‘I located its power source, where technically
its artificial respiratory system is normally located.’ Feeling a curious
indentation upon the cover, Tsi’Drael held the cylinder section with his left
hand. Taking his right hand off from the
cap-cover, he discovered another oddity.
D’mias raised a
quizzical eyebrow, while Saim’d collected the last remnants of infodata from
the lifeless cyberform.
The cap-cover bore
an engraved symbol: a C resembling like
a spanner inside a circle. And a small
dot on the lower left of the circle itself.
At first, D’mias conjectured if the Cybermen had developed the concept
of Clanscrest identification. But Saim’d
received proper knowledge about the dubious symbol.
‘Identification
symbol.. corporate logo,’ Saim’d concentrated. ‘Cybus Industries.. but scanning my personal data banks, I cannot
locate such a business listing.’
D’mias inspected
the remains. ‘Probable solution—this Cyberman—cyberform—does not originate within this dimension.’
‘Tsi’Drael,’ Saim’d
inspected the extracted part. ‘The extracted power source apparently has a dual
function.’
‘Indeed,’ he
wondered if it relied on some antiquated energy force. ‘Auxiliary purpose?’
‘Input/Output System,’
Saim’d affirmed. ‘Despite being connected through a remote neuronet, these
units implement a basic means for data transference. In fact,’ he pointed to
the unit. ‘The one you’ve acquired contains a data storage device—an infostamp—is its denotation.’
Adroitly gliding
his finger over the cap cover, Tsi’Drael came across a concealed button. Flipping open, the container released
subthermal gasses. Enigmatically
producing a small, enclosed cylinder, the device offered it to the
Locanshite. Tsi’Drael reluctantly took
the cylinder, discarding the useless container it had come in.
Scanning the
infostamp, Tsi’Drael learned how it functioned.
Using a limited data-stream transference program, the Locanshite
comprehended how infodata was stored and retrieved. Though he had no connections like the
Cyberman, accessing the infostamp’s data was no problem for the Locanshite.
Gripping the
infostamp, Tsi’Drael closed his eyes. Bioglyphs
pulsed while mysterious glowing lines etched over his hands. Like activating microcircuits, the lines
attached themselves to the cylinder.
Within seconds, the Locanshite accessed the infostamp’s entire contents.
Amazingly, it was a
complete BioData Extract of both The Doctor and Fangarius. Starting
from their original incarnates, all the way to their present selves, and
beyond.
Eyes snapping open,
he realised the limited device now outlived its purpose. Dropping it next to the fallen unit and
Cyberman remains, he instructed Saim’d on disposing of this rubbish. Essentially because he knew Fanger was
correct, this technology would be dangerous in Tellurian hands, no matter how
outdated.
When D’mias
inquired about the order, Tsi’Drael explained the displaced Cyberman bore no
practical use for their agenda.
Telekinetically
rounding up the scrap within a neat pile, Saim’d held out his left arm. Opening his hand, he extracted his
claws. Parakinetic strands emerged from
the claw’s tips, while his venom elegantly travelled along the dancing
threads. Spinning rapidly round the junk
heap, the venom web instantly cocooned it without fail. Completely encased, the cocooned started
glowing momentarily, then hissing as it envenomed its contents. Self-destructing, the cocoon instantly
dissolved itself, and the junk inside, until there was no trace left. As if the Cyberman had never existed in the
first place.
Satisfied with
their brief handiwork, Tsi’Drael redirected his attention back towards the
campus.
‘Once again, my
Gm’nai Primlan, I must apologise,’ he insidiously smiled, surveying the
situation. ‘Apparently I performed a severe error with perspective—if not
perception—of the Time Lord and the Little One’s presence.’
‘Misperception?’
D’mias wondered what Tsi’Drael meant.
‘Affirmative.’
Tsi’Drael narrowed his eyes. ‘For what I misconstrued as a challenge, was in
reality, something far better..’
‘What is the true
perspective?’ Saim’d speculated.
Tsi’Drael smiled,
turning towards his associates.
‘A rare, and
fortuitous, opportunity.’