Crossroads - Chapter Two

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 72^nd 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 72^nd 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 22^nd 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 20^th 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 22^nd 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.’