by Cour M.
“No longer in your jurisdiction?” Martha repeated.
“It’s not,” Rebrullen confirmed, “you see, when Mecrellas had its first Imitation Games, it was a part of the Galactic Alliance. Therefore, we had authority over it. Yet now it has broken away from it, and since it’s no longer a part of the federation, what they do on their planet is beyond our influence or authority.”
“The only reason we would have for once more exerting our influence would be if their actions became intergalactic and the universe began to suffer from it,” Nettril explained.
“But you said that the window-bridges they keep opening through space and time made the universe bleed and create cracks,” Martha pointed out.
“Precisely,” Eight agreed, “I was there and I saw the holes that were being presented. We had to use everything in our power to convert those holes into stationary singularities.”
“Stationary singularities?”
“Black holes,” Ten defined, “they converted the cracks in the universe to form into black holes.”
“How does that help? Black holes are like collapsing stars.”
“Yes, but cracks can grow, whereas black holes eventually collapse. And a crack cannot always be sealed or fully deleted sometimes, therefore a black hole is the easiest thing to convert it to. Though that still takes a massive amount of celestial power.”
“Yes, Doctor,” Zanoria informed them, “it requires the Hand of Omega itself.”
⌛
“The Hand of Omega?”
“Yes,” Eight replied, “I was able to call in a favor and borrow the Hand of Omega from the High Council of Gallifrey. Once we were done using it, we returned it.”
“The Hand of Omega?” Martha asked, “well now, that’s another thing I must ask about later, I see.”
“But still,” Eight pursued, “the windows they opened between time and space to spy on other planets was causing galactic disruption, therefore you have the right to organize an army to shut it down once more.”
“They have altered the design of their window-bridges,” Chief Justice informed them, “which means that they are now harmless.”
“Harmless?”
“Yes, they cause no celestial or universal disruption, no tears in the cracks of the universe, no side effects at all.”
“That you see,” Eight magnified.
“We have inspected it to an exacting degree,” Luxor determined, “there are no side effects at all, and thus everything is now out of our jurisdiction completely.”
“So, then we are on our own in solving this,” Martha announced.
“There is nothing to solve,” Zanoria informed them, “we may not agree with the concept of the Imitation Games, but that planet has gained the majority vote to allow the games to continue and so they shall.”
“Of course, they have the majority to vote,” Ten noticed, “because I’m sure the rights of the poor and criminal are not counted. But what I wish to know is what does the Shadow Proclamation have to gain from this?”
“You are about to mention something provoking,” Rebrullen clarified. “I can sense it from your tone.”
“Very much so,” Ten replied, “and I really mean this with no disrespect at all, which I know you will still take offense to anyway.”
“I foresee that we shall.”
“Of course you do, but I can’t help but notice that this room now is being transported through time and space. We literally are in a room at the Shadow Proclamation and we are also amid space and time. Which means, that we ourselves, are in a window.”
There was silence all around the room.
“Let me get this straight,” Ten paced back and forth, “the reason why you are so much willing to not take action or exert any sort of influence, is because you have gained something from it. The Mecrellans have shared their technology with you all, haven’t they?”
“Yes, they have,” Nettril confirmed, “yet all that would not matter if they were in our jurisdiction and their actions were causing intergalactic upheaval. It is not, and we have no authority over how a planet regulates itself, as long as that regulation does not affect any worlds around it.”
“The crisis on Mecrellas is now a global one,” Luxor informed them, “and our area of authority rests only in the universal.”
Eight walked up to Ten and whispered to him.
“You have no talent for diplomacy, do you?” Eight asked.
“If you’re telling me to roll over and take this, then no, I won’t,” Ten rebelled.
“No, I’m asking you to be smart about it.”
Eight turned away from him and raised out his arms, in supplication.
“You must forgive my future self,” Eight apologized, “in recovering from almost being executed, he is suffering from post-traumatic shock.”
Ten scoffed at this, but Eight continued.
“See? He’s devastated. Head Council and Chief Justice, we are now made aware that the crisis of Mecrellas has been neutralized. While it hurts me that all our previous efforts have now been undone to remove this great injustice from the planet, I must reconcile myself to the fact that what once was outlawed is now law.”
“Come now, Doctor,” the Chief Justice sneered, “you know that we shall not fall for that one.”
“I was also not finished. While I respect that the planet has now re-opened itself to the games, I am also aware that there is now a new set of protests against this. I may not disband the games, but I can join the opposition. After all, when is protesting illegal? And from what I understand, the Shadow Proclamation can grant amnesty and safe passage for a set of individuals on a planet. Can you not?”
“Yes, Doctor,” Xanoria confirmed, “we can.”
“Can you exert this amnesty and give us safe passage to Mecrellas? If we have official documentation stating that we cannot be prosecuted, then we will never be arrested by the Mecrellan authorities.”
The Head Council nodded their approval of this to the Chief Justice.
“You must promise, Doctors,” Chief Justice urged, “that you shall not abuse this amnesty and interfere in their society?”
“We promise,” Eight swore, “that we shall not commit any illegal acts of interference, so long as what we have seen has proven to have no intergalactic threat. Yet we shall investigate.”
“I get the sense that you are lying.”
“Perhaps, or perhaps not. Yet before anything else, you are the police; thus, you know we have every right to inspect this all on a closer scale. Council, I spent much of my time putting an end to something you all now allow. Imagine how I feel?”
⌛
With alacrity, the Doctors and Martha were given amnesty and official documentation stating that they had to receive a full pardon from Mecrellas. Before they left, Ten requested that they would require amnesty between them and Ptorian as well, because he wished to meet the sagriens in the future. This made Eight perk up, but he was silent for a time.
They eventually returned to the TARDIS and flew off. As they left the Shadow Proclamation, heading into the vortex, Eight turned to Ten.
“The indirect approach,” Eight smirked, “you really possess no tact, eh?”
“I’ve got a companion, don’t I?” Ten retaliated, “so clearly I do.”
“So, we are about to return to Mecrellas now?” Martha asked.
“Yes, we are.”
“Wow, you were lying to them, weren’t you? There is no way that you both shall remain standing idly by.”
“Of course I lied,” Eight said, “don’t worry, I only do that when need be. We’re not a traditional Timelord, and it scares them to death.”
“What does that mean? To be a traditional Timelord, I mean.”
“We Timelords are afraid of change, by nature,” Ten explained, looking at Eight keenly, “we possess the ability to observe time, to inspect it up close, but we are meant to never interfere. If a planet is meant to get destroyed, then we are supposed to let
it. If a whole species is meant to become extinct, we do not assist or attempt to save them. We observe time and space, but we do nothing to change or enhance it.”
“You are meant to stand by and never help?”
“Yes, that is what we are all raised to be.”
“That’s awfully lonely.”
“Yes, it is,” Eight confirmed, “that’s why I ran away.”
“And why we keep running,” Ten said.
“So, that’s what I do? When I am you, I keep running?”
“Yes, you do.”
“Good,” Eight smiled, “I like running.”
“Eventually you get tired.”
“Who doesn’t? We’re Timelords, not gods.”
“Yes, and now I need to ask you for a favor?”
“For what?”
“You said that you are taking us back to Mecrellas. Well, I need you to take me somewhere else first.”
Chapter 9
Between a Rock and a Hard Place
“First?” Eight repeated, “we have pressing matters. Between saving a planet from a public menace, to me picking up a person that you need to meet.”
“You said before, when we spoke with the Head Council, that you had returned the Hand of Omega to Gallifrey.”
“I did.”
“And what is the Hand of Omega?” Martha asked.
“A stellar engineer called Omega lived on Gallifrey,” Ten explained, “He engineered stars. Omega created the supernova that was the initial power source for Gallifreyan time travel experiments. He left behind the basis on which Rassilon founded the Time Lord Society. And he also left behind the Hand of Omega.”
“I’m praying that he didn’t mean that literally, right? And he didn’t leave behind his hand, or something else quite freaky.”
“No, it’s not his actual hand. The Hand of Omega is a mythical name for Omega’s remote stellar manipulator. It was the device used to customize stars with. The Timelords had trouble with the prototype.”
“Omega had a device that could create stars?”
“No, just customize mostly,” Eight added, “and it had other magical properties. It was perhaps one of two remote stellar manipulators that existed on Gallifrey—my goodness, we really are at the beginning, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, I don’t really know anything,” Martha chewed the inside of her cheek, insecure, “does that annoy you?”
“No, I enjoy starting from scratch,” Eight winked, “besides, with you, I never got that chance in the past. When we met, you already knew everything about me.”
“For being the same man,” Martha said to Ten, “you both really are quite different!”
“Right down to the hair and fashion preferences,” Ten smirked.
“And my preferences are better,” Eight boasted.
“In your dreams. But still, Martha, the Hand of Omega was used by Omega himself, and another ancient named Rassilon, back in the antiquity of Gallifrey. It had the ability to turn stars into supernovas in order to fuel Gallifreyan time travel. And the difference between a regular star and supernova is that—”
“A supernova is a star that suddenly increases greatly in brightness because of a catastrophic explosion that ejects most of its mass,” Martha defined.
“Precisely.”
“Learned that when I lost a bet and had to take an astronomy class. So wait, the TARDIS really can be fueled by a star?”
“Yes, so while it requires rift energy for fuel, when I was repairing the TARDIS, I would have been able to repair it if I was able to harness the power of supernova.”
“Sounds—oh, I don’t know—hard.”
“Yes, but I am the believer of impossible plans, now aren’t I?”
“What did you mean, to repair your TARDIS?” Eight asked.
“We’ll tell you later,” Ten rushed out, “but the point is, you returned the Hand of Omega to Gallifrey recently?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Then are you planning to return?”
Eight’s expression turned to stone.
“We have a mission,” Eight replied dismissively, avoiding Ten’s gaze and going back to the consul unit, checking their coordinates.
Seeing what Ten was thinking, Martha walked up to him. Ten sat down, appearing nonchalant, so that Martha could sit down next to him and it could appear as if they were merely having a conversation.
“Doctor, why are you asking him about Gallifrey?” She whispered.
“Because he’s my Eighth self, Martha.”
“So where does he fall in your timeline? He speaks… like Gallifrey is still around.”
“Because it is, for him,” Ten confessed, “Martha, he’s the Doctor who comes before the part of me that existed during the Time War. He’s the one who has the last happy memories of Gallifrey.”
“Seriously?” Martha asked, looking at Eight, “He’s you… when you were happy.”
“Precisely. And he can take us to Gallifrey.”
⌛
“But I don’t get it,” Martha realized, “you both have time machines. The same TARDIS, just in different points in time. So why can he take us to Gallifrey, but you never could? Why didn’t you ever take us there in a time that was before you lost your home?”
“Time travel is complicated,” Ten surmised, “and sometimes—sometimes—we can try our best, but we have no answer. When I destroyed Gallifrey, something happened. I discovered this when I was in my Ninth incarnation. I tried to use my TARDIS to go back, to a time at Gallifrey that was before the war ever took place. But I couldn’t. The TARDIS was physically unable to perform the task. When Gallifrey was destroyed, it was as if—it was never there. I could not access it. Better yet, that version of me never could. Which makes sense. Usually whenever a TARDIS returns to Gallifrey, it always must return there in real time. You cannot travel backwards and forwards, but precisely at the present that you left it. Of course, this isn’t always the case, and things might change one day. But for right now, I am the Doctor after the Time War, so I cannot return. But Eight was there recently. This means, because he is the Doctor before the Time War, he can go back. And if I remain on his TARDIS, I can as well.”
“You’re going to ask him to take you to Gallifrey.”
“You asked me to take you there once. Now here’s our chance.”
“I would be fine with it if I knew it was a good idea, but Doctor, I mean… he’s your older self. And you are the Doctor who cannot go back. Therefore, even if you try and go back with him, would Time reject you? Would it cause damage to the universe?”
Ten looked at her, impressed.
“Very good, Martha. Your mind is working perfectly again.”
“Are you implying that my brain stopped working?”
“No,” he dismissed quickly, hiding the offense, “no, no, no, no, no.”
“There were too many no’s in that denial. Me think the lady doth protest too much.”
“But still, Martha, setting aside all my desires, we must return to Gallifrey. It might be the only way that I can repair the TARDIS. I may be able get ahold of some Timelord technology.”
“Why, Doctor, are you implying that you wish to steal from your people?”
“Oh, I’ve been a thief before. I never told you this, but truth is, I practically stole the TARDIS.”
“Did you?”
“Ah! No one else was flying her. Remember what I said before. Everyone labelled her as an antique.”
“Morons!”
“I know, right?”
“So, you’re really telling me that you are not going because you miss home?”
Ten at first was silent.
“Martha,” he sighed, somber, “wouldn’t you want to go back home if you could… after it was taken from you? Or after you had to take it from yourself?”
Martha looked at Eight.
“If it were just about endangering us, I would do it,” she admitted, “but we would now be endangering him. I have to think of
him now.”
“You care about my old self really quickly,” Ten pointed out.
“Of course I do,” Martha responded simply, “he’s you. If something happens to him, then your timeline disappears, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, but it’s more than that. He’s your future, and you wish to know what happens next.”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, I confess that I would. Martha, please, I need you to support me in this.”
“But Doctor, we don’t even have your TARDIS consul unit.”
“It must be on Mecrellas. We can plan to retrieve it, especially now that we have amnesty. We must return anyway, to disband the Imitation Games again.”
“And the games are really that dangerous?”
“Martha, you only saw the games during their good moments. Believe me, I can only imagine these games growing nasty. Besides, if I repair my TARDIS, that means that we now have two TARDISes to help the planet, rather than one. Think of all the good that we can do.”
Martha was torn. She did want to see Gallifrey, she did want to help repair the TARDIS, but she didn’t want to get Eight in any sort of trouble. And then she realized… both Timelords were the Doctor; they were always in some form of trouble.
“All right,” she gave in, “but I will look after him too now.”
“Of course you will.”
Ten stood up and accosted Eight.
“Eight, now I am about to ask you what I said I would ask of you.”
“No,” Eight said simply.
“Pardon?”
“I know what you’re about to ask.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, you’re about to ask me to return to Gallifrey. When you know perfectly well that I refuse to return there.”
“Oh.”
“Yes. Yet I don’t understand how you did not foresee that. You are my future.”
“What is it?” Martha asked.
“And how could you encourage him?” Eight wielded on her, feeling betrayed, “you know what it would do to me!”
“Hey,” Ten defended Martha, “it’s not her fault. You’re forgetting that she barely knows you yet.”
“Right,” Eight squinted, swallowing his rage, “yes, forgive me.” He turned to Martha, apologetic, “forgive me, it’s just hard for me. You must understand, I’m used to you always supporting me in everything. And you never ask me to do something I am unwilling to do.”