Crossroads - Prologue

PROLOGUE

Deep in the tempest of the infinite ChronoSphere—commonly known as the Time Vortex—a lone, blue police box transversed upon its randomised path.  If a passing space probe had managed transmitting this image back to Earth, some may have gone under the impression they were either hallucinating, a hacker got into the system, or the equipment was suffering an inexplicable malfunction.  While the more advanced observers would either deny the event ever occurring, or come up with some scientific nonsense on how such an event was ever feasibly possible to begin with in the first place.

                After all, how could one explain a non-descript item, originating from a primitive planet, existing inside the immeasurable dimension?

                Consequently, the few which did encounter this phenomenon would simply identify the blue police box as a TARDIS.

                The cryptic acronym stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space.   Many beings in several galaxies perceived only one specific race which pilots these wondrous vessels:  the Time Lords of Gallifrey.

Within the transdimensional craft, a figure calmly observed the rhythmic movement of the crystalline rods set neatly within the glass column.

                Time Rotor functioning normally. His ears detected the synchronised hum.  Scanning the dials, his dark, claw-tipped finger silently moved from them towards several gauges. No system anomalies. Frowning a bit, he considered the results as a rare occasion indeed.  Ever since this Type 40 TARDIS  had been ‘liberated’ from its museum prison, the craft acted as if it possessed its own personal agenda at times.

Dark-hair—once brown—emerald-hazel eyes, the young man gave the appearance of someone in his late thirties.  At first glance, one may consider him rather human.  Wearing a green shirt, dark sweater (bearing a crimson ‘F’), brown slacks and dark ropers, he could easily pass himself off as a college student.

                Or perhaps, a young professor.

                Only three elements shattered the deceptive illusion:  the multicoloured headband, dark, claw-tipped hands and wolf’s tail.

                Even the crimson F emitted an extraordinary aura, where it seemed more of a sacrosanct crest, rather than a monogram or a varsity letter.  Overall he secretly concealed a supernatural ambiance, but as he discovered recently, many were now oblivious towards such items.  However, this never really disturbed him, since he felt it better if most didn’t have extensive knowledge of the Paranormal Realm.  Thus, why he was always called on when something inexplicable occurred.

Nonetheless, he inspected the Main Console, acknowledging its familiar, hexagonal structure.  Preferring the basic design, he knew it was standard for most TARDISes before Type 50.

                Mainly because he felt the hexagonal Main Console unit proved in being more user-friendly than those sleek, streamlined models.  And they were much more conventional, if not practical.

                Carefully moving his finger across its mahogany-wood finish, he ensured his claw did not scratch the Main Console’s surface.  He seriously doubted the owner might approve, let alone explaining why he accidentally warped the surface with his venom. 

                Naturally he knew the Main Console wasn’t authentically wood-paneled.  Instead the finish was a sophisticatedly-unique simulation generated by the TARDIS Architectural Configuration System.  He suspected the template originated from the Secondary Console Room.

                He recalled how the smaller, version resembled more like a room one might find in a basilica or convent, than a modernized vessel.  It also contained wooden shutters, which concealed the scanner.  The Secondary Console was much more compact than its major counterpart.  It contained six hatched panels one could lift, revealing hinged compartments, like a Davenport desk.

                He comprehended why the owner preferred the Secondary Console.  Basically, it wasn’t as pretentious or intimidating as the Main Console.  Consequently, he meticulously studied the newly-reinvented Main Console unit.

                Observing the antiquated gauges, dials, gold-plated and levers, it definitely gave the illusion of a Victorian ‘time machine.’

                Slide controls replaced with a block-turn display interface. The ChronoSpace controls possessed a simpler display instead of the customary, scientific-mathematical one.  Definitely Victorian-Wells.

            Standing back, he inspected the pylons surrounding the Main Console.  Firmly bolted to the Time Rotor column, apparently keeping the Main Console secured in-place.

                The Time Rotor Column stretched upwards into the infinite, domed ceiling.  He immediately recognised the ceiling’s observatory motif served as the TARDIS’ Main Scanner.  The scanner not only revealed the local environment, but could also display entire star systems and galaxies, in relation to one’s position in the ChronoSphere.

                Simple, yet functional. He knew this was the fundamental TARDIS Architecture.  The same basic pattern he implemented when he engineered his own TARDIS.

                Subsequently, he distinguished some subtle differences since he last encountered the Type 40.  No longer was it the gleaming technacothaka he was once accustomed to, with its sterile environment, and futuristic atmosphere.

                The redwood walls, balconies, stairways and columns reminded him of the ancient cathedrals he once visited outside the Capitol.  The ones the Clanstribes and Shobogans once considered sacred, only entering them upon solemn occasions and celebrations.  Inspecting these components more closely, he acknowledged they were crested with the Seal of Rassilon.

The Seal of Rassilon.. he gently moved his hand over the artefact.  The First and Original Time Lord.

Some considered the Seal as an exclusive emblem of the Time Lords.  While others perceived it as a consecrated symbol signifying ultimate peace amongst the Gallifreyans and Tombeurians, not just a brilliant man who discovered the secrets of transdimensional travel.  Yet, Rassilon was more than anyone could ever imagine.

Recalling the Days of the Tiempian Syl-Dal, he knew Rassilon always respected the Tombeurian Clanstribes and Ancients’ beliefs and rituals.  Mainly because Rassilon knew if it were not for them, Gallifreyan Man would have not benefited from their wisdom.  Before the Time Lord, there was the ChronoKnight.  ChronoKnights served as the Protector of the ChronoSphere, crusading against any being or force bent on its destruction.

                Their selection process was simple:  at the age of six, young candidates were taken to Chronos’ Edge, where they would glimpse into the portal known as the Untempered ChronoSpace Schism.  But as the figure knew, the ceremony was far much more than bearing witness to a transdimensional tempest.

                Two Clanstribes—the Locanshites and Fandraelians—the true architectural engineers behind transdimensional travel, implemented their own specialised, ritualistic trial for determining Future ChronoKnights, then later, Time Lords.

                Before venturing up to Chronos’ Edge, they were first taken to the center of the Syli’Dal-Chi—the Gallifreyan Outback—where the Fandraelian awaiting them would send them upon a Vision Quest.  During which, one embarked on a three-day fast, followed by a deep, transcendental meditation. The purpose behind it was preparing those for what they might experience when they were fortunate enough to actually gaze into the Schism itself.

                For the other part of the ritual was making one’s way through the Syli’Dal-Chi.  Without the use of gadgets or powers, one needed surviving purely on their skills and instinct.  If successful, one would be greeted at their destination:  Chronos’ Edge, which was on the tallest mountain of Gallifrey.

                Secretly he recalled how he had taken the trial for the third time and had somehow ended up in the dreaded Death Zone.  Miraculously, he had made to the Tower of Rassilon, where not only did he meet the Ancient Time Lord, but was given a gift as proof of the being’s amazing accomplishment.

                But if he knew then what he knew now, he wouldn’t have been so excited.

                For when it was his turn gazing into the Schism, he  witnessed a disturbing vision.

                Though he never informed anyone of this vision, he feared it was prediction of what was to come.  The Dark Days, the Great War and The Onslaught were proof of this, making him wonder how the political situation on Gallifrey had gone from bad to worse.

                Little One…

Events were now subtly leading into what he witnessed, indicating it would only be a matter of Time.  And there was nothing he, nor the owner, could do to prevent it.

                ‘FANGARIUS!’

Blinking, the man found himself back within the TARDIS.  Slightly embarrassed for being lost in his melancholy thoughts, he turned towards the other man standing behind him.

                ‘Are you all right, Little One?’ The young man stood there inspecting his guest. ‘You seem a bit distracted.’

                Long, brown-hair, he wore a green, velvet-frock coat, a silver waistcoat and cravat.  Secretly he had obtained this outfit from Earth, rather than the TARDIS Wardrobe, as it was supposedly a costume for a New Year’s Eve party.  Nonetheless, the attire suited him and had become part of his standard ensemble.

                ‘Yes, Doctor,’ he sheepishly identified. ‘Just some forgotten memories resurfacing, I fear.’

                The Doctor, presently in his Eighth Incarnate, was a bit more conservative than his other selves. ‘Nothing bad, I hope.’

                ‘No,’ he sighed. ‘Just the usual..’

The Doctor’s remarkable visitor was none other than Fangariusotgenoamcdonwald, or Fangarius.  Depending on his Incarnation, the Time Lord generally referred to him by the surname, or Little One.  Particularly since Fangarius’ full name roughly translated as little one from Ancient Tombeuric.  At times The Doctor would call him ‘Fangsie.’  But everyone else knew him just as ‘Fanger.’

                Fanger selected this nickname because he never fancied such formalities.  Nor his own Time Lord status.  Paranormal Time Lord status.

                In truth, his kind rarely obtained this official honour from the High Council.  Despite his extensive studies from the Prydonian Academy, Fanger only graduated because he saved Gallifrey from The Master.  This time the renegade had attempted using displaced F-Clones for taking over the planet.  Implementing a modified psionic amplifier, Fanger deftly foiled The Master’s sinister plot and dispatched the vile Time Lord back into the Time Vortex.

                Of course, this all occurred during Fanger’s Fourth Incarnation.  Whereas afterwards he had constructed his own TARDIS—the Model 92 Deluxe—and left Gallifrey.

                As with The Doctor, Fanger was currently in his Eighth Incarnation. 

The Doctor comprehended why the Paranormal Time Lord had a difficult time on Gallifrey.  Fanger belonged to the Tombeurian race, even though technically he was Gallifreyan.  Commonly known as ‘Wolf-Beings,’ these Native Gallifreyans existed within dynasty groups known as Clanstribes.  For instance, Fanger belonged to the Fangarian Clanstribe.

                The Doctor knew over the years, the intrinsic relations between the Clanstribes and Gallifreyan Man had not always gone swimmingly.  Even with Rassilon establishing laws protecting them, the Clanstribes still suffered discrimination, primarily from the Time Lords themselves.   Nevertheless, Rassilon made it legal for Tombeurians to attend the Academy, and apply for Time Lord status, if they so desired.

                It always perplexed the Time Lord why the High Council and Capitol residents were so prejudiced against these beings.  After all, the Locanshites proved in being beneficial in the development of TARDIS Engineering and the Amplified Panatropic Network.  The Fandraelians also helped with understanding the nature behind transdimensional travel.  And The Doctor’s own family possessed a close relationship with the Fangarians.  Which was why he was officially appointed as Fanger’s godfather.

                Essentially giving him the right using ‘Little One,’ whenever he referred to Fanger at times.  In fact, Fanger was the only person The Doctor didn’t mind calling him ‘Doc.’

 Subsequently Fanger elected on changing the subject by admiring The Doctor’s new interior design.  The integrated elements from the 19^th and 20^th Century gave the TARDIS an interesting, enigmatic atmosphere.  Not something one might find in an alien craft.

                ‘Upper library,’ he perused infinite titles ranging from Ancient Earth Literature to the futuristic scientific and mathematical tomes.  Not quite as extensive as his Legends Library.  Then again, if it was, he suspected there’d be hardly any room for movement.  Despite the TARDIS’ unique transcendental structure.  Fanger’s gaze moved down past the stairs to the lower décor.

                ‘English armchair..’ he noticed the black rose pattern stitched upon the upholstery. He skeptically glanced at The Doctor. ‘You didn’t get this from Uncle Herman, did you?’

                Frowning, The Doctor turned and inspected the chair. ‘Certainly not,’ he corrected. ‘That came from your Aunt Morticia,’ he narrowed his eyes, studying it closer. ‘She claimed it unsettled her for some reason. Now, the gramophone,’ he pointed towards the outdated artefact, ‘that came from your Uncle Herman..’ his memory faltered slightly. ‘Or was it from your Uncle Gomez?’

                ‘No,’ Fanger shook his head. ‘Uncle Gomez would’ve more likely given you a two-headed turtle, or perhaps a harpsichord,’ a devilish smile formed on his lips. ‘Much to Lurch’s chagrin, I imagine.’

                ‘Much as I find your conversation intriguing,’ a voice spoke from the other side of the Main Console. ‘I seriously doubt we came here for the discussion of The Doctor’s TARDIS Interior Design.’ Tugging on the secondary monitor spring, he pulled it back up in its proper position.

                On its display, bore the obscure infodata:

                LOCATION: CHRONOSPACE – GALAXY SECTOR 7J

       DESTINATION:  SECTOR ALPHA-OMEGA 12

       HUMANITARIAN/XENOLOGICAL ERA

Revealing himself as young man, he possessed dark-hair, hazel-blue eyes and stood about five-foot-ten.  He also wore a multicoloured headband, and F-Clanscrest on his shirt.  But the rest of his ensemble consisted of a leather jacket, dark pants and black leather boots.  As with the Paranormal Time Lord, he also had dark-hands and a wolf’s tail.

‘Yes, Ianstar,’ Fanger sighed. ‘The Doctor and I are aware of the situation. I just haven’t been in the TARDIS for some time.’

‘Actually,’ The Doctor sheepishly replied. ‘You really didn’t explain why you and Ian are in my TARDIS, or why we’re heading to Sector Alpha-Omega 12?’

There were times Fanger felt more and more like Alice instead of a Paranormal Time Lord.  Secretly he couldn’t ascertain how exactly he and his Hijan, Ian, found themselves in this circumstance.  The last thing Fanger recollected was finally collecting and reintegrating the TARDIS 2, stabilising the Multiverse and accidentally dispatching his Multiversal Companions into the  Charged Vacuum Emboitment Tunnel—or CVET—once again.

                While performing a quick diagnostic with T-2’s systems, insuring no unexpected anomalies from the brief separation, when the Chronoscope suddenly activated itself.

The Doctor knew the Chronoscope was Fanger’s modified version of the Time-Space Visualiser.  The wondrous device was given to the Time Lord as a gift from Tor, for helping the Xeron rebel defeat the Moroks, and closing down the Space Museum.  Studying its design and construction, Fanger reinvented the device back in his First Incarnation.

                Utilising his extensive knowledge with Panchronistic Engineering, Fanger upgraded it where one was no longer limited viewing exact points in the ChronoSphere.  Instead one could observe all points inside the ChronoSphere and Beyond.  He even modified the input device, replacing the antediluvian chronodata cards with a keypad and psionic link.

                In other words, one could now simply enter the co-ordinates manually, or concentrate on a desired event.

                Regrettably, as the Paranormal Time Lord discovered, psionic circuitry has a nasty habit of picking up random mental force.  Meaning whenever something inadvertently gets transmitted on a similar telepathic frequency, the Chronoscope would transmit random events unexpectedly.

Case in point, the Chronoscope inexplicably divulged the Dastari-Chessene ParaIncident.  An incident which The Doctor was rather all too acquainted with, and would have rather forgotten.

                Because what started out as a simple, covert investigation, had suddenly transformed into a bizarre tour de force involving his Second and Sixth Incarnates.

                All because the Time Lords had discovered unauthorised Time-Space experiments emanating from the Third Zone.  More specifically, Kartz and Reimer, two scientists at the Space Station Chimera.  Spearheaded by the infamous Joinson Dastari, and his GenetAug, Androgum assistant, Chessene.  Not to mention embroiling the Sontarans into their mad scheme.

                ‘Fangarius,’ The Doctor exasperatedly sighed, pondering why his godchild’s innovations appeared being more detrimental than beneficial.

                ‘Doctor,’ Fanger glanced an inquisitive expression towards him. ‘Didn’t you and Jamie find it odd how the Time Lords kept me out of the picture?’ He diverted his attention back towards the Main Console, narrowing his eyes at the secondary monitor. ‘Or why?’

Back then, Fanger was completely different than the Paranormal Wolf-Being he is now.  First off, he wasn’t quite so humanesque.  He resembled more towards what one might perceive as an anthropomorphic Toon wolf.

                And his wardrobe proved in being curious:  it gave the distinct appearance of a Medieval wizard’s outfit.  Some had claimed it was obviously Ancient Gallifreyan clothing adopted by the Clanstribes and Shobogans.  Whereas others had gone under the impression it was a result of a malfunctioning Omnisuit.  The one Fanger had worn when he briefly served as a ChronoAgent for his Academy Field Studios.

                Whatever the case, one distinctive component had stood out amongst his apparel:  the blue wizard’s hat—The Hat of Rassilon—predecessor to the Band of Rassilon.  Fanger had earned this unique artefact from Rassilon when he had accidentally trespassed into the Death Zone.  Remarkably, utilising his wits and instinct, Fanger had survived by reaching the Tower of Rassilon.

                Nevertheless this Fanger identified was his Third Incarnation, if he wasn’t mistaken.

The Paranormal Time Lord knew he didn’t require the Chronoscope for viewing this memory.

The Doctor was also far dissimilar from his current appearance.  He was shorter, had straight, rumpled dark-hair.  He wore a crumpled tailcoat, baggy trousers and an unkempt shirt with a bowtie.  Though outwardly warm, bumbling, and somewhat clownish, this version of the Doctor had a darker, more cunning aspect to his personality.

                This, of course, was the Second Doctor.

Unlike his previous Incarnation, The Second Doctor behaved more like a cosmic hobo.  For he loved transversing galaxies, visiting exotic locales, and fantastic time periods.  Much to Jamie McCrimmon and Victoria Waterfield’s chagrin.

                Fanger recalled it was this specific personality which had led to this mystery.

                As The Doctor had been going through some of the TARDIS back shelves, he had come across a vidbrochure.  Originating from The Eye of Orion Tourist Department, it spouted the typical spiel about its scenery, peak travel times, beautiful environment for vacationing, and specialised events.  It bore hardly any real interest for the Time Lord.

                Until the vidbrochure came to the part about the famous Jai-Dei Gardens.

                Inspecting the lush flora, Fanger had recalled he desperately required restocking on some rare herbs and plants.  The Doctor and Victoria had thought it was a lovely place for a long-awaited picnic.

                Jamie had almost protested about the whole affair, until Fanger had reminded him about The Eye of Orion existed within its own dimension.  Meaning there would be no hidden dangers—specifically Daleks and Cybermen—lurking about the place.  Considering what they had endured recently, he readily accepted their destination.

                Ironically, it was Jamie who had first realised the basic anomaly of this adventure.

                The Doctor had miraculously piloted the TARDIS to its appointed destination.

                ‘What?!’ The current Doctor bitterly protested. ‘Of all the impudent..’ He hated it whenever anyone questioned his piloting skills.  In all honesty, when he borrowed the Type 40, he did have some difficulty with the controls.  But that was because he felt they weren’t accurately calibrated when he, Susan and Fanger had left Gallifrey.  The malfunctioning chameleon circuit was obvious proof of that.

                Fanger smiled, giving him a facetious expression.  Mainly because he secretly had performed maintenance on the TARDIS since he had joined The Doctor and Susan on their travels.  Even the Main Console emitted a defensive hum.

                ‘Let’s just say,’ he calmly patted the Main Console. ‘The TARDIS took us where we needed to be. The Eye of Orion.’

Naturally they didn’t exactly arrive per destination as intended.  The TARDIS had landed several days before the real tourist season had commenced.  The Doctor had preferred it this way, especially since it meant they didn’t need dealing with the unwanted crowds.

                Nor inquisitive busybodies wanting on knowing how a police box could just appear at the Eye of Orion.

                While Fanger and Victoria had gone locating for a proper picnic spot, The Doctor and Jamie had decided on exploring the Gardens.

                And that’s when things had gotten from strange to absurdly bizarre.

                ‘Doctor,’ Fanger unbuttoned his cuff.  Unrolling his right sleeve, he held up his arm and activated his Wrist Comp. ‘Do you remember these guys?’ Touching a key, his screen projected an image of three men.  They were tall, wearing yellow cloaks and high collars. 

                ‘Yes,’ The Doctor somberly identified. ‘They were the Time Lords who sent Jamie and I upon that farce of a mission.’

                In reality, The Doctor knew they weren’t from the High Council.  Otherwise, they would’ve simply dispatched the problem in their usual fashion.  The ones responsible came from the infamous Celestial Intervention Agency.

                ‘Really,’ Fanger tapped on a few keys, tightening up and zooming in upon one image of the Time Lords.  One with brown-hair and blue eyes.  ‘Does this one look particularly-familiar to you, Doctor?’

                The Doctor narrowed his eyes, not certain what his godchild was showing him.  Until he noticed the image matched with a memory pertaining to one of Fanger’s relations.

                ‘Arthur?!’ He incredulously stared at Fanger. ‘Your Uncle Arthur?!’

                ‘Well, it’s not cousin Serena.’ Fanger quipped.

                The Time Lord was well-acquainted with his godchild’s Paranormal relations.  Especially his Aunt Endora and Uncle Arthur.  Ironically, next to Darrin Stephens, she even had a low opinion of The Doctor.  In fact, she blamed him for getting her nephew exiled on Earth.  Recently The Doctor felt himself fortunate not to be disturbed by them, though he didn’t mind Aunt Clara.

                Arthur was known for his warped sense of humour.   And The Doctor never imagined the warlock would attempt something like this with the Time Lords.  But Fanger indicated Arthur wasn’t the culprit.

                ‘Arthur couldn’t orchestrate this, Doctor,’ Fanger explained, deactivating the image. ‘Too sophisticated and complex for him.’

                ‘Yes,’ Ian added while working on the Main Console. ‘Uncle Arthur’s pranks are concise and unexpected.’

                ‘Seems the Celestial Intervention Agency also shanghaied him as well.’

As Fanger and Victoria were setting up the picnic spot, the meadow overlooking the silver sea, she had seen a strange man approach them.  From the grand robes and collar, like The Doctor, Fanger had assumed it was a Time Lord.  More likely meant to fetch them and inform them about some mission they had planned for The Doctor.

                That is, until Fanger had noticed something different about the figure.  Before completely recognising the man, Fanger and Victoria had been put into the deep freeze by Arthur.

                ‘Hang about,’ The Doctor scanned his vague memory. ‘I thought you and Victoria were taken somewhere to study graphology.’

                ‘Mind Spell, I suspect.’ Ianstar knew Arthur was probably informed to alter their memories. ‘Rather surprising for Uncle Arthur,’ he was working on his own wrist apparatus. ‘Y’know, D’tei, you never told me what happened when you confronted him about it.’

                ‘Actually, I didn’t.’ Fanger remembered his Fourth self visiting Samantha. ‘Aunt Endora came and asked if Arthur had pissed off the Time Lords with one of his jokes.’

                The Doctor became rather astonished. ‘Wait, are you telling me the Time Lords actually came and collected your Uncle?’

                ‘Apparently so,’ Fanger remembered Endora telling him about it. ‘They crashed Aunt Endora’s party at Venice, I believed. The reason she didn’t interfere was she felt the Time Lords were doing her a favour.’

                ‘I can imagine.’ The Doctor rolled his eyes.

                ‘Funny thing,’ Fanger noted. ‘Uncle Arthur had no recollection of ever going to the Eye of Orion. And I know if he genuinely did this for a prank, he’d definitely take credit, regardless of the consequences.’

                The Doctor was about to continue their discussion, when he suddenly acknowledged Ianstar’s wrist device.

                ‘Vortex Manipulator…’ He suspiciously stared at the ChronoAgent.’

                ‘Relax, Doctor,’ Ian briefly held it up, revealing the screen’s violet illumination. ‘Although standard CA Issue, I modified it being TARDIS-Friendly.’ He returned back to his work. ‘Infodata converted, compiled and processed.’ He glanced towards the Main Console. ‘Are you prepared for downloading this transmission?’

                Another dubious hum emanated from the Main Console.

                Ian lowered his arm over the Communications Panel, sighing a bit. ‘No, I’m not overriding your controls. I’m just providing The Doctor some preliminary evidence before we reach our destination.’

                Sensing little negativity from Ianstar, the TARDIS produced its wireless interface link upon its Communications Panel. 

                ‘Transmitting,’ Ian touched the keypad, causing the Vortex Manipulator’s screen to illuminate an intense, bright blue-violet.

                The Doctor and Fanger observed the Communications Panel spring to life.  Instruments dancing and flashing wildly about, its bioprinter produced a clear-plastic readout with odd black etches and symbols.

                Ianstar explained his role of ChronoAgent was ensuring no anachronistic technologies were left behind.  Especially technologies proving extremely detrimental towards the ChronoSphere.

                ‘Ah,’ The Doctor nodded. ‘Sort of a clean-up crew, eh?’ The Doctor comprehended the reason why ChronoAgents performed this valuable service.  Even if something like the Kartz-Reimer module had been utterly destroyed, if any remnants, just one small component had been located and analysed, the Earth’s technological index would be adversely changed.  Therefore drastically altering the Universal Timeline.

                Fanger gingerly took the plastic readout from the printer.  Unrolling it, he held it up towards the Time Rotor’s glow.  Inspecting it, he apprehended why Ianstar had requested they contact The Doctor.

                ‘Great Rassilon,’ he read the dark  symbols and patterns. ‘So my suspicions were correct.’ He calmly handed the readout to The Doctor.

                Tentatively the Time Lord received the enigmatic strip.  Performing the same examination, he recognised it as a BioData Extract.  Not dissimilar the ones obtained from the APC Net—the Time Lords’ symbiocomputer—on Gallifrey.  The readout’s pattern were actually a graphic representation of a being’s genetic code and DNA structure.  In other words, an indisputable, biological blueprint of a person.

                Deciphering its information cautiously, The Doctor momentarily stopped.

                ‘No,’ he incredulously stared at the BioData. ‘This can’t be,’ he surveyed the strip again. ‘I mean, we—I  witnessed him both on Space Station Chimera, and on Earth.  Spain, if I’m not mistaken.’

                ‘Well,’ Fanger viewed the strip with The Doctor. ‘If he can successfully genetically-augment an Androgum.’

                ‘The BioData originated directly from Dr. Joinson Dastari’s remains.’ Ian briefly focused his attention towards Fanger and The Doctor. ‘Or what we presumed was Dr. Joinson Dastari.’

                Giving the Extract back to Fanger, The Doctor pondered over why Dastari had gone to such extremes.  Considering he was the  Head of the Time-Space Project Kartz and Reimer had been working on, Dastari might have prevented his capture by the Time Lords, the Galactic Police, or possibly the Shadow Proclamation.

                ‘Or perhaps,’ Fanger blithely suggested. ‘Dastari had wanted to prevent the Universal Scientific Academy from being involved with a major scandal.’ He gazed deeply into the cosmos upon the observatory scanner, narrowing his eyes. ‘Kartz and Reimer weren’t exactly the geniuses everyone thought they were.’

                ‘Really?’ The Doctor questioned Fanger’s theory. ‘Apparently they were intelligent enough for the Time Lords acknowledging their experiments.’

                ‘Strange you should mention that, Doctor,’ Ian deftly deactivated his Vortex Manipulator. ‘You probably want to see this.’ Approaching the TARDIS Communication Panel, he waved his hand over a concealed control.

                The ether keyboard materialised.  Ianstar swiftly ran his fingers across its keys, accessing the newly-transformed files.

                A holographic image started taking shape, solidifying into a familiar box-shaped module.  It possessed unique components sticking out upon its sides.  The Doctor identified it as the Kartz-Reimer module he had temporarily primed back upon Earth.

                ‘Correct,’ Ian began typing on the keyboard. ‘Access Ancient Gallifreyan file on TT Capsule Prototype…’

They knew long before the advent of SIDRATs and TARDISes, Rassilon, Omega and the Locanshites had been developing basic capsules for transdimensional travel.  Of course, Fanger perceived this occurred after the Chronoship, and when Rassilon had brought forth the Eye of Harmony.

                ‘File request—Prototype TT Unit—11.23.63—Model Serial ID: 10368..’ Ian instructed while inputting the proper codes.  Another holographic imaged materialised besides the Kartz-Reimer module image.  Although it appeared in a three-dimensional blueprint schematic, as it began solidifying as well, uncovering a most discerning revelation.

                ‘No,’ The Doctor disbelievingly compared both images.  Inexplicably, they were both identical, down to the last component. ‘How…?’ He turned to the Paranormal Time Lord for a plausible explanation.

                Fanger simply studied the images. ‘Ever wonder why Kartz-Reimer’s machine just happened to have a briode nebuliser?’ He then chillingly uttered under his breath. ‘Or even acquired the knowledge to design it for the Rassilon Imprimatur?’

                The Rassilon Imprimatur was a specialised symbiogenetic imprint given to Time Lords before they piloted their first TARDIS.  Primarily, it was what allowed them safe passage  through the ChronoSphere, whereas Paranormals like Fanger, could simply transverse dimensions.  Despite the fact, the Fangarians preferred the more mechanical than mystical means of such travel. 

                Nevertheless, the Rassilon Imprimatur was regarded as the most confidential innovation of the Time Lords.  Back then, The Doctor had presumed Chessene’s genetic enhancements had enabled her to somehow sense the symbiotic nuclei within him.  Fanger, on the other hand, suspected it was far more than just some telepathic conjecture, since he knew Rassilon had implemented special precautionary measures against its discovery.

An indicator had gone off, shattering their contemplation.  Ianstar promptly dispersed the virtual keyboard, switching on the Main Screen.  The sea of galaxies and stars were now replaced by crystalline-spired structures resting upon three asteroids linked together by bridges.  Fanger and The Doctor identified the mysterious complex, realising the situation was becoming critical.

                Trumpets echoed throughout the Main Console Room, as an announcement came from the TARDIS Speaker.

                ‘ATTENTION, THIS IS THE SHADOW PROCLAMATION.’ The voice identified. ‘IDENTIFY YOURSELF, OR YOUR CRAFT WILL BE CONFISCATED, AND YOU SHALL BE IMMEDIATELY PLACED INTO CUSTODY.’

Fanger, Ianstar and The Doctor automatically stood at attention.  They knew the Shadow Proclamation could stop a TARDIS in its tracks, as well as an F-Clone Armada, or Sontaran Vessel.  And they didn’t really plan on making trouble with them.

                ‘The Doctor,’ he identified. ‘Time Lord from Gallifrey.’

                ‘Fangarius,’ Fanger followed suit. ‘Paranormal Time Lord, Fangarian Clanstribe from Gallifrey.’

                ‘ChronoAgent Ianstar. Fangarian Clanstribe from Gallifrey.’ Ian added. ‘We have an appointment with the Architect, regarding pending investigation on the Kartz-Reimer Incident.’

                There came a resounding silence.  Next came some electronic noises as a blue light briefly strobed over the TARDIS.

                ‘IDENTITIES CONFIRMED. CHRONOAGENT IANSTAR, YOU ARE EXPECTED. DOCTOR, YOU HAVE PROPER AUTHORISATION TO LAND. TRANSMITTING CO-ORDINATES.’

                Hearing the materialisation noise echoing through the room, Fanger and Ianstar braced themselves.

                ‘Well,’ Fanger told The Doctor. ‘Here we go.’