The Last Choir

by Generation Extant

A Christmas vacation for the TARDIS crew is derailed slightly by an apocalyptic war. (This story was originally published January 1-25, 2006 at Generation Extant dot com.)

(This story was originally published January 1-25, 2006.)

The Doctor wasn't the only thing that could regenerate. In the few days time-and-space-flight from San Francisco, 2001 to the far-flung planet Kenos, the TARDIS had managed to purge itself of a scourge, like a pandemic returning to normality. For many long years the renegade Time Lord known as the Master had been thought dead, absorbed into the Eye of Harmony, the nucleus of a black hole and the engine by which Time Travel is perpetuated. He was thought to have been absorbed into the very heart of the TARDIS, into the Time Vortex, but the Master had managed to survive. Every single molecule of his being was reassembled within the TARDIS consciousness, fueled by a desire of hatred and revenge for the Doctor, his arch-nemesis. Taking so much from the TARDIS core had taken its toll on the time ship, as it had begun to take on a sickly, green pallor. However, with the virus now purged, the TARDIS was making a return back to health.
The entire interior of the console room had lightened to nearly white, and the wall roundels shone like newly scrubbed windows. The console, with its many switches, dials, and panels, had begun to put itself back to rights. The console room suddenly began to resemble the console room of old, with a cleaner, more austere appearance, while still keeping an organic foundation. The machine hummed and twittered contentedly as it felt itself returning to health, animatedly conversing with its aging pilot, known only as the Doctor.
The Doctor stood over the console, smiling happily and humming along to the pitches of the regenerating TARDIS. Soon, it became a game, with the Doctor and the TARDIS humming to match each other's pitch, creating a symphony of sound that filled the console room. The Doctor took up a slight caper around the console as the interstellar duet increased, twirling his new walking stick and allowing himself a loud, spirited laugh. For the first time in a long time, the Doctor felt a little lighter, a little brighter, a little more like singing. After all, he was headed to Kenos, known as one of the premier concert venues in the cosmos, so he might as well get into the spirit. The lights of the TARDIS began to twinkle and shine as the music swelled to a glorious climax between the Doctor and the TARDIS, creating a beautiful harmony on the last, long sustained note, singing through time and space.
It was upon this quizzical scene that Russell Garamond stumbled in. Immediately, all music ceased and, both the Doctor and the TARDIS returned to business as usual, with curt, smart beeps and twitters while the Doctor flipped the odd switch and pushed the odd button in a very serious manner. Not sure whether to chuckle or apologize, Russell turned to head back into the interior of the TARDIS.
"Mr. Garamond."
The Doctor's clear voice stopped him in his tracks. He moved sheepishly forward as the Doctor gestured him towards the hexagonal console. Around a third of the way round, the Doctor held out his walking stick at chest level like some sort of security arm, halting Russell in his tracks. The Doctor looked up from the console with a seriously etched expression, and looked Russell up and down. Then, with a smile, he dropped the stick to the floor.
"Very nice, Mr. Garamond. I see you are making good use of my old vest."
The Doctor's old vest, with its seemingly endless pockets, was now in Russell's possession. As such, Russell had changed his wardrobe to match the tan affair, adding a white oxford shirt, thin black trousers, and a burgundy corduroy blazer. Topping off the affair was a loosely hung simple black tie which tucked in nicely behind the Doctor's old vest.
"Although I suppose you had to take in the waist a bit…" The Doctor chuckled, patting his abdomen which, in relation to Russell's, seemed obese. Russell chuckled nervously, but adopted a better humour when he heard the TARDIS start to beep and click merrily again. The Doctor turned to the console, smiled, and turned back to Russell.
"Go get the others. We're nearly at Kenos."
Russell was not the only one who had changed his wardrobe. Javis was just re-entering the companion's lounge in a new variation of her typical simple suit, this one being a dark, iridescent green as opposed to her normal black. Colleen, however, was still in her old standard homespun garb, but was admiring one of Russell's shirts that had been hanging in the corner. Javis could not control her gales of laughter as she stumbled upon the young Irish girl delicately touching a silk shirt with a growing sense of wonderment. Caught in the act, Colleen immediately backed away from the garment, making several rapid unintelligible excuses.
"What? Haven't you ever seen a silk shirt before?" Javis asked after recovering from laughter.
"Sure I've never seen clothing like that, Javis. It's lovely!" Colleen smiled sheepishly.
"Is it the clothing, or the fella wearin' it that you're finding lovely, Red?" Javis said with a wink. Colleen subsequently turned a bright shade of vermillion, a poor match for her more scarlet-hued curls. In what would become a habit of his, Russell entered the room a few seconds too late into a wholly uncomfortable situation. Judging from Javis' good natured smirk and Colleen's mix of abject terror and embarassment, Russell concocted a nervous cough and a brief announcement.
"We–ahem…we're almost there."
Javis clapped Russell on the shoulder and shouted a quick reply as she hurried out the door to the console room.
"Sounds great, Stringbean. Can't wait!"
With Javis' effervescence absent from the room, things suddenly became ridiculously awkward between the Irish peasant and the expatriated doctor. Before he could work up the nerve to open his mouth, Colleen too bustled past him and out the door. Gazing up at the ceiling, Russell groaned aloud, berating himself.
"All of time and space and you can't find anything to say?!"
As Javis entered the console room, she remarked on the aesthetic change, as it was never in her nature not to.
"Cripes, Doctor, have you been scrubbing the place?"
The Doctor looked up from the console and smiled genially. "Actually, Javis, the TARDIS has been cleaning itself. Apparently, without the Master sapping its power for subatomic reconstruction, the TARDIS was able to reverse the atrophy that had been enacted upon it. To put it simply, Javis…it's getting better. Scottie?"
Javis helped herself to a candy. "Fantastic, Doctor. Absolutely fantastic. Figures that creepy Master would steal from your TARDIS."
"Indeed, Javis. I suppose it was foolish of me to think I was rid of him, and to pass off the TARDIS atrophy as normal wear and tear. Perhaps I wanted to, made myself believe so, but now… I don't know. It's almost nice to not be the only Time Lord all of a sudden."
"Except the only other one is existence has it out for ya."
"He has hated me for nearly three quarters of a millenium, Javis, so much so that it has sustained his very life force when all other forces should have had him dead. But now, when his plan was simply to live again, and I granted him that opportunity…I can't help but think he may change."
Javis gave the Doctor a love tap on the shoulder. "Hey Doc, it's us women who are supposed to think we can change men, eh? Speaking of women, here comes out blushing beauty now."
Colleen entered the console room ignominiously, bumbling through the door. Her face was still flushed, but she attempted to to pass it off as nothing as she strolled in what she believed was a casual manner towards the other two.
"Hallo," she waved a hand dismissingly, suddenly very interested in the console, "almost there, aren't we?"
"Indeed," the Doctor smirked slightly, and exchanged a look with Javis. "Where is Russell then, Colleen?"
"Oh, out and about," Colleen waved her hand in such violently dismissive manner that it looked fit to fly off her wrist, "y'know him…"
"A little, my dear girl, but perhaps some may know him better by now…" the Doctor smiled. Colleen looked at him pleadingly, as one does to a prying parent, and the Doctor returned to the console, making a few last minute adjustments before arrival. Javis, stifling sniggers, went to grab her faux-vintage 20th Century leather jacket off the coat rack near the door. As Russell entered, the awkwardness began to mount once more, but was interrupted seconds in by the familiar materialisation sound of the TARDIS landing. The Doctor snatched his walking stick off the console and adopted the voice of a train conductor.
"Kenos, Trelansl System, last stop!"
He threw open the TARDIS doors with his usual bombast, revealing a nearly blinding sight. Iridescent blue crystal was everywhere in intricate patterns, forming buildings, plazas, mountains, everything as far as they eye could see. The entire panorama glimmered like fine art, gorgeous statues of naturally occuring crystalline delight. Here and there, wraithlike figures would glide from place to place. Like ghosts made of smoke, each contact they made with the surrounding crystal emitted a pure, clear note of music, perfectly in harmony with each other note being struck within earshot. Harmonies, overtones, everything sang as the floating creatures lived out their daily lives.
"People made of smoke, cities made of song…" The Doctor exhaled with rapture, "that's two off the list."
Javis, Colleen, and Russell found themselves thunderstruck by the sheer dazzling beauty and harmonious atmosphere they had stepped into. The Doctor stepped in front of them carefully, his two-tone shoes crunching the crystal slightly as he spun round in front of the companions like an interstellar tour guide.
"Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Kenos. It is their year 2536, their time…" he glanced at his gold pocketwatch, "about two in the afternoon, Christmas Eve. The concert is at seven sharp. Until then…let's see what we can see!"

The Doctor was in high spirits as the four companions followed him through the crystal planet. Each step crinkled on the surface of the world, which took on the appearance of freshly fallen snow. The entire scene seemed glazed and, with the Christmas decorations literally engulfing the area, the entire scene looked downright festive. Sprinkled in between the native Kenos smoke-people were beings of various constructs, all browsing shops, eyeing wares, and exhanging currency with native Kenos merchants. Were it not for the strange physical makeups of some of the creatures, this would have not been much different than any shopping centre near Christmastime.
Russell found himself in awe. It had only been some short time ago that he was in San Fransisco, then on Gallifrey, the Doctor's home world, a planet that isn't even supposed to exist anymore, and now…a world of music dipped in frosted glass for Christmas. His eyes rolled every which way, his nose quivered at new smells, his ears feasted on the myriad of harmonies that played all about him. It seemed nearly like paradise, but at the same time it was very much still a shopping trip.
"Mm. Christmas in Kenos. I should have done this centuries ago, before it got… commercialized."
Russell looked skeptical. "Doctor, is this really…Christmas? Just how far away are we from Earth?"
"Hundreds of light years away, Mr. Garamond, but temporally very close. For Kenos, it is the year 2536, but on Earth it's roughly…oh…1987?"
"You're kidding me! How do they know about Christmas?!"
"Oh come now, Mr. Garamond. Surely you don't believe that interstellar travel and communication began with your own backwater planet? Why, by the time of Charlemagne there were at least five hundred alien species living our lives on earth!"
"I suppose you're right," Russell nodded, then smiled sheepishly. "Is conceit worse when magnified across galaxies?"
"Only when you're as loud about it as I am, Mr. Garamond!" The Doctor replied with a twitter of his eyebrows, "By the way, where have our female fellows run off to?"
Russell's eyes darted around. Indeed, Javis and Colleen had disappeared while they had continued walking. Surveying the area quickly, Russell was able to spot the two at a nearby boutique. Colleen was admiring a crystal necklace, while Javis was perusing an "import shop" featuring Earth fashions. Waving to the Doctor and Russell, Javis called out as she waved a hat aloft, a richly brown-coloured porkpie.
"Oi, Doctor! Happy Christmas!"
"Javis, Javis, Javis…" The Doctor suddenly covered his face with his hand and mumbled in embarassment, "I can't wear that, Russell, I just can't! It doesn't…it won't match…"
Not paying much heed to the incredulous dandy, Russell decided it would be better to simply walk away. He struck out into the holiday throng to reach the girls: dodging a green, blobby biped, squeezing past some a large creature made of what appeared to be granite, taking care not to step on a group of sentient sea slugs that wiggled underfoot. Just when he thought he had safely navigated the melee and stepped to greet Javis and Colleen, he found himself, quite literally, in a fog.
He had walked directly through a native of Kenos. With a jerk, he leaped out of the body, flattening himself against the wall of the boutique. The smoke being, catching Russell. out of the corner of what could only have been where his eye should be, rounded on him. Russell's eyes closed instinctively as he saw the creature pull out a medium sized crystal ring. Handcuffs, he thought, his eyes screwed tight, he's going to jail…on Christmas! He waited for an angry shout to come at his apparent intergalactic faux pas, but the actual result was much more confusing.
The creature began singing at him.
It was not particularly happy singing, but it was, undoubtedly, a very agitated soprano solo, complete with the vibrato befitting a cantankerous dowager. Russell found it hard to take the smoke cloud seriously when such beautiful notes were issuing from it. The crystal ring, which he had earlier mistaken for handcuffs, were actually being worn as a sort of choker around the "neck" of the smoke and served to transmit the sound. Before he had a chance to check what the creature was shout-singing at him, the Doctor appeared by his side. Rather than shout the being down, as the Doctor often did before, he began singing in turn back at it, making the conversation a sudden sopano-baritone duet.
"I am sorry for the disturbance, Madam, but he truly did not see you," The Doctor sang, perfectly in tune.
The creature attempted a harsh, scorning laugh, but it still sounded beautiful, "Ha! Ha ha! You dare to sing to me in that disgusting box you call a body? You are in no place to excuse the rudeness of a mere…human!"
The Doctor's eyes suddenly hardened. Producing a pennywhistle from inside his camelhair coat, he blew a loud, harsh, crass note. Russell's ears twitched in discomfort, but the smoke creature fell into a convulsive fit. Javis and Colleen, who had approached their friends when the perturbed aria broke out, made to move closer. The Doctor waved them away with a wild look in his eyes.
"Stay back! We'll need you later!"
The two ladies stood their ground and melted into the throng that had surrounded the incident. In only moments, two more smoke creatures had appeared. Both wore similar crystal chokers, but their were engraved with a hard, black diamond shape in the front. The Doctor's lip curled slightly as he spotted the badges.
"Ah yes…the singing Gestapo."
The two Kenos policemen approached and, in lieu of and sort of lasting corporeal grip, they produced four small crystal rings, which this time did end up being handcuffs. Russell and the Doctor were lead away up the crushed crystal road by the two policemen. The fine bass voices singing a variation of the Miranda Rights slowly faded away, and the shopping centre returned to normal, save two patrons. Javis and Colleen found themselves suddenly alone, without their guide, and without their new friend. After the initial shock wore off, Javis began to snarl. She plopped the newly-purchased porkpie on top of her curly black locks and cracked her formidable knuckles threateningly.
"Ain't no way a buncha uppity, opera singing fogheads are gonna ruin our Christmas vacation. Come on, Coll, let's see how much glass we can break."
Colleen, fiercely loyal, had suddenly become as fiery as her ruddy red hair. She nodded dumbly as her small, but field-hardened hands curled into fists, and the two scorned women set off after their friends to unleash their collective fury.
As furious as they were, Russell was exactly the opposite. Completely bewildered and wrists smarting from the crystal cuffs, he whispered urgently to the Doctor as they were lead to a great crystal citadel that rose above all else surrounding it.
"Doctor! What is going on?!"
The Doctor paid him no heed. "I knew it, I knew it!" he hissed to himself, "Something is not right!" he turned to Russell, finally acknowledging him. "The way that woman reacted to you, the way she addressed you…they're becoming xenophobic. This isn't 2536, it's 3536."
"And?"
"It means that something bad is about to happen…very, very soon."
"Quiet back there!" A bass voice bellowed meldiously.
Inside the vast citadel were multitudes of smoke creatures silently gliding this way and that, conversing in pianissimo tones when necessary. Rather than files or reams of paper, there were crystal discs being fed into crystal computers that hummed and sang in response to the touch of each creature. The mood seemed very somber, as every song was in a dirge-like minor key, with overtones of sorrow echoing off the vaulted crystal ceilings. As the two policemen approached a front desk, they sang out their acquisition, the crimes perpetrated, and were sung back by an alto receptionist to process them and put them into a cell.
Processing amounted to a simple blood scan. Once again, crystal needles desposited Russell and the Doctor's blood (which both seemed very out of sorts with all the crystal) onto crystal trays which were read by crystal machines who put a melodious computation. In contrast to the previous minor keys and solemn tones, the machine bleeped out two merry tones followed by a cheery vocalist.
"Human!"
Two more tones.
"Human!"
Apparently satisfied, the two policemen escorted Russell and the Doctor to a nearby cell. They had no more than closed the door than the crystal computer began emitting a louder accelerando. The voice sang out again, more stringently, but still in perfect tone.
"Error! Error! Unknown species detected in second sample! Traces of Gallifreyan agents intermingled with human! Time Lord! Time Lord!"
In their cell, on the otherside of the hard, crystal portcullis, Russell cocked an eyebrow and pulled a face at the Doctor.
"Oh, now…who could THAT be?"
The Doctor met his gaze, chuckled, and made to twirl his old moustache. Finding it absent for the first time in some time, his face fell slightly. The flurry of the policemen soon took all thought away from moustaches as they crowded about the machine, rubbing it furiously, making a cacophony of harmonies and overtones in an attempt to rectify the system error. The crystal computer, however, would hear nothing of it, and kept bleeping out its error message.
"Time Lord! Time Lord!"
With a quick touch of the crystal wall, the cell door slid open, and the Doctor was thrust uncerimoniously outside. Before Russell could make his way out of the cell, the door dropped directly in front of his nose.
"You are a Time Lord?" One of the guards inquired with deep bass vibrato.
The Doctor's eyes suddenly aquired a maniacal flash. "I cross the void beyond the mind, The empty space that circles time. I see where others stumble blind, To seek a truth they never find; Eternal wisdom is my guide – I am…" he wiggled his eyebrows playfully, "a greengrocer!"
For all the seriousness of the situation, Russell couldn't help but laugh idiotically. Here was the Doctor, facing a creature that had him bound, and having the gall, audacity, and bravery to stand outright defiant against it. For all of the prattling about food and drink and culture, this Strange Man was more than what he seemed.
The policeman, however, did not find it nearly as entertaining. No more had Russell stopped to catch his breath when he was suddenly staring down a formidable floating spike of blue crystal, being sonically manipulated by the smoke creature. Hovering just inches from his jugular vein, the spike needed only a thought to plunge itself into Russell's throat. The mood had suddenly changed from playful indignance, to a sitation of life and death
"If you continue to misrepresent your identity, I shall hold the life of your miserable… human consort forfeit."

Three things happened very quickly. The Doctor twisted the top of his walking stick sharply one-quarter turn. The iridescent jewel adorning the top of the stick hinged open, revealing the sonic screwdriver hidden inside. Then, quick as a flash, the Doctor brought the walking stick up to his shoulder like a rifle, pointing the newly revealed sonic device directly at the smoke creature threatening Russell. His eyes were as clear and sharp as the blue crystal surrounding them, and his voice was hard as iron.
"Now now…I don't think we'll be doing that," he chided with a condescending smirk.
The crystal spike immediately dropped from Russell's neck to clatter on the floor. Even falling to the floor it made a melodious sound in harsh contrast with the serious surroundings. The smoke creature backed away, terrified as he recognized the presence of a device capable of sonic disruption poised to destroy him. The Doctor smirked again, and signalled for Russell to be released. The guard did so dumbly, taking care in its abject fear to not set off the sonic screwdriver. Russell stepped out of the cell gingerly, and stood next to the Doctor who still stood with stick at ready. The guard turned to look at them both, fearing for his life.
"Now," the Doctor began in low, dangerous tones, "we…are going to be leaving. You will not stop us, you will not hinder us."
He turned to the other guard who was still by the crystal computer, but had halted all computing and stood stock still in terror at the sight of the sonic screwdriver. The Doctor addressed them both.
"You will not tell anyone else where we are, where we are going, or what we are. We are no one, who did nothing, nowhere and…to assure you will not be telling anyone…"
With a speed that belied his stocky frame, the Doctor swung the opposite end of his walking stick in a dizzying arc, shattering both crystal collars in two sharp blows. Whirling a swift about face, the Doctor clamped his free right hand onto Russell's shoulder, snatched up his walking stick in his left, and propelled them both down the hallway with all possible speed.
They had no sooner left the general vicinity than the two guards, in silent fury, began eliciting all sorts of noises from the nearby computers. Sirens began to musically charm, and warnings were sung out through the citadel.
"Warning! Warning! Escapees in cell block! Warning! War–"
Just when it seemed as if Russell and the Doctor would be set upon by an army of smoke creatures, another more stringent, higher level warning boomed out over the previous one. A fortissimo baritone overpowered the previous alto with articulation and furious tempo.
"ALL OFFICERS REPORT TO FRONT GATE! VIOLENT FEMALE HUMANOID SUSPECTS TO BE RESTRAINED! ALL OFFICERS CALLED ON TO SUBDUE!"
The Doctor allowed himself a grin as he and Russell hurried down a crystal corridor.
"Good show, Javis! Well done, Colleen!"
His merriment was cut short by Russell's surprised shout. With his longer legs, Russell had managed to gain a slight lead and was nearer an exit than the Doctor.
"Doctor! The wall! It's… moving!"
Two-tone spectator shoes skidded on the glass-like floor as the Doctor struggle to turn the other way. His eyes grew wide as he shouted ahead.
"RUSSELL! GET AWAY FROM THERE!"
Indeed, the wall was moving. In fact, a massive crystal being had detatched itself from the wall and was moving toward them. Russell's own shoes skidded as he tried to reverse direction, but was caught by a forward stepping foot the size of a television. Though simply an amble to the crystal creature, the force of the foot hitting Russell's abdomen sent him reeling through the air, back towards the Doctor, hitting the floor and sliding past. Russell gasped out in pain, his back flat against the floor. He did a lightning-fast survey of his body: ribs bruised, maybe cracked, otherwise nothing serious. Ignoring the pain in his chest, he struggled to his feet as the Doctor stood in front of him, walking stick at the ready.
He had the sonic screwdriver set at the lowest possible setting. Even so, it was a terrible risk. The Doctor squeezed his eyes tight, held the stick out in front of him, and pressed the button. The screwdriver's signature high-pitched whirring noise echoed in the hallway, and the giant crystal creature halted in its tracks. For a moment, both stood still, the only sound being the sonic screwdriver. Then, with a single groan, the crystal creature broke into pieces and crumbled to the floor. It's dying groan, however, managed to agitate the crystal archway leading to the exit enough to cause a slight cave-in, effectively blocking the exit. When all the crumbling and crashing had ceased, the Doctor unscrewed his eyes. Looking about in great relief, he went to check on Russell.
"I'm fine," Russell said with a twinge in his ribs, "at least I will be." he looked toward the former doorway, then back to the Doctor.
"Doctor… what was that?!
"They call themselves 'Those of the Straight and Ordered Line,' but I call them Polygonals, and that…was an advance scout."
"Like… Poly-gonals?" Russell cocked an eyebrow.
"Yes. I found it rather sharp. They are a race of living crystal, aesthetically perfect. They have exhausted the resources of their world, and they have taken quite a liking to Kenos. The only problem is, the Kenosians are bveings of cultivated sound, and –"
"Kenoshans? They're called Kenoshans?"
"Yes, Mr. Garamond…why?"
"…Nothing."
"All right. Well, as I was saying, the Kenosians are beings of sound, and the Polygonals are anything but. As you saw earlier, the slightest off key noise, vis a vis…" he produced his tin whistle again from his pocket, "causes a Kenosian great pain. The presence of a Polygonal occupation force could, in essence, destroy the entire Kenosian race, and Kenos itself."
"So that's why they were so terrified of the sonic screwdriver!"
"As am I, Mr. Garamond. Kenos… is not exactly a planet."
"Say what?"
"It is closer to your planet's coral reefs. This area of the Trelansl system is surrounded by a source of ionic energy cast off by a nearby star. It's probably what threw the TARDIS off a thousand years, come to think of it. Anyway, as so ionized, little bits of space matter: pieces of a comet's tail, space junk, supernova residue, become ionized in this area and form together in a labrynthine crystalline structure. This entire…pseudo-planet…is nothing but a dense crystal lattice. The Kenosians discovered this planet and its melodious capabilities with their bodies of auditory sythesis. Some say they are the ghosts of the Cryons of Telos, which leads me to believe I have been travelling far too long and everything is becoming linked…"
He began to get that far off, clouded look in his blue eyes again, the traveler that has seen so much in his lifetime, and has still more to see. With a cough and a shake of his head, the Doctor snapped back into his lecture.
"Its natural beauty has made it a tourist destination, and the favorable synthetic atmosphere added in… 2246… has created the world you see today. Within the past century the Kenosians have accrued a vast amount of wealth, and have become paranoid. Now with the fears of Polygonal invasion now confirmed, the great battle will commence…"
"And you will aid us in our victory, Doctor." a tenor sang out.
The Doctor and Russell turned to see a Kenosian with a ridiculously overadorned crystal collar approach them, along with four others with similar, but less adorned collars.
"We know of your kind, Doctor, and we know of you. You travel here and there throughout the cosmos aiding those in need. You will be summoned to our council room, and you will aid us in our time of need."
"Oh yes," The Doctor rolled his eyes, "nothing quite like forced aid to a xenophobic, oppressive 'victim.' Very well, we shall go with you." turning to Russell, he murmured cattily, "as if we had a choice?"
Russell tried to contain his snickers as they were lead back from whence they came: down the corridor, past the cell block, and up a steep, rather difficult ramp ("for the Kenosians have no need for stairs, we rise above") to a crystal zenith. As if the ramp wasn't ridiculous enough, past the pinnacle was another downward sloping ramp. Thankfully, a bit of the crystal on the walls proved an effective handrail for Russell and the Doctor, and they slip-slided their way down, down, down.
"We must be nearing the heart of the structure," The Doctor mused as his spectators scrabbled for purchase on the crystal floor, "one can only wonder what the Kenosian Illuminati have squirreled away down here." He turned to Russell, "No, not Illuminati…Audionati, perhaps?" he suggested with a grin, a grin which Russell reciprocated, "Good, I found it funny, and–oh my…what's this now?"
Among the interlocking lattice of crystal lay a lead bunker, its gray, dull casting appearing awfully drab next to the shining blue around it. One of the council members agigtated a crystal device, which in turn agitated a large claw mechanism which opened the lead hatchway door, a door no Kenosian would ever be able to open with their own smoky hands.
Inside was well adorned, with a large crystal judges bench recessed behind two large lamps and a few crystal sculptures. Russell groaned as they walked inside.
"Crystal, crystal, crystal, bah! I'm sick of it. Would it kill them to have a Persian rug?!"
There were no rugs, nor chairs, as Kenosians did not sit. The Doctor and Russell were allowed only to stand. Luckily, Russell thought, they didn't slap those bothersome crystal cuffs back on. Once the council had floated to their places, they began in great pomp and circumstance in, of course, perfect harmony.
"For more than two-thousand years our kind has dwelled here, living a life of sweet and peaceful harmony. Now we are threatened by a race of conquerors, and we seek the council of the greatest race, the Time Lords, to show us the way of victory. Tell us, Doctor, whose legend reaches far and wide, how might we defeat the oncoming storm?"
The Doctor, who had been paying little attention to the rigamarole, suddenly snapped his head upwards at the last few words sang. His eyes became hard again, his voice echoing oddly in the lead environs.
"Never use that phrase in my presence ever again!"
The reverberations in that outburst proved painful inside the lead box for the Kenosian council and, recovering from their shrieking agony, sang out in five part outrage.
"If you are to address the council you must sing!"
"Very well…" the Doctor responded in a low recitative. He put a finger to his lips and appeared to go into deep thought. He paced the room, his two-tone shoes making authoritative clicking and clacking noises on the metal surface, causing slight twinges of auditory distress to the council. When the Doctor saw this, he smiled wickedly and continued to pace, still appearing deep in thought. When it finally appeared as if one of the councilman was ready to bludgeon him with a nearby sculpture, the Doctor returned to the center of the room and addressed them with a soaring tenor aria.
"I fear that I must tell you,
In plain and simple speech.
That my aid upon you,
Will be beyond your reach.

You will not gain my counsel,
No matter how you cry.
All Kenos and this council,
Are meant this day…to die."
This created a great uproar from not only the council, but Russell as well.
"Doctor, you are going to let an entire planet be destroyed?!" he hissed as he leaned in close.
The Doctor turned to him, looking downtrodden. "Those were some ghastly rhymes…weren't they? Counsel with council, you with you…ugh! If only I had had more time to think."
"DOCTOR!" Russell shouted, causing the council to shriek again in pain. The head councillor picked up an accelerando key and began to threaten the Doctor.
"If you do not aid us we will arrange your death!"
The Doctor turned, slowly, back to face the council. His face was expressionless, and his song was minor and cryptic.
"You say that you will kill me,
But pray, can you before?
I use my grotesque, flesh bound hands,
To open up this door?"
With a flash, the Doctor again used his walking stick as a club, shattering the crystal door-opener and leaping out of the hatchway, pulling Russell behind. He slammed the door and locked it tight, nodding in satisfaction.
"That should hold them for a while."
And, as if he was heading to Sunday Mass, he began to climb back up the ramp. Russell followed him, livid.
"DOCTOR!"
"Yes?" The Doctor asked coolly, climbing.
"Doctor…how…how COULD you? You allowed the Master to live, one of the greatest enemies the galaxy has ever seen, but now you are dooming an entire race to extinction! I cannot tolerate this, Doctor, I just…can't!"
The Doctor turned to Russell, no long cool, but broken. His eyes showed one thousand years of pain and heartbreak, and his voice spoke one thousand years of cruel truth.
"Russell. This…is meant to happen. Kenos is meant to be destroyed. I learned about it in academy, I have read of it in the TARDIS databanks. I am not in the records. Ever. I am not supposed to be here and, moreso, I am not supposed to save this world."
"But you do other things! You stopped VP!"
"I was supposed to, Russell! You don't understand time! There are things that aren't to happen and there are things that are! You don't understand…"
He continued clumbing sulkily, and Russell followed in pained silence. After a few minutes, the Doctor spoke again, trying to keep his voice from cracking.
"Do you know what will happen here, Mr. Garamond? The Polygonals will invade, and the Kenosians will fight them. Have you ever heard that old adage, muttered in pubs worldwide? 'There will be two hits: me hitting you, and you hitting the floor.' That is what happens at the Battle of Kenos, Mr. Garamond. The Kenosians fire their first round, a pure wave of beautiful sonic sound. In a trice, the Polygonals are routed, their entire army reduced to shards of worthless glass."
"So they win?"
"Don't interrupt! The problem is, Mr. Garamond, that the broken shards of the Polygonal race reconstruct the sound and reflect it back. Due to their un-musical nature, the sound has been distorted and, by the time it reaches the Kenosian army, it is so dissonant that every last creature of song and smoke is wiped out. The resulting sonic clash upsets the entire structure, and crushes the crystal reef into a powdery nothingness. It is a double genocide, a dual holocaust. One of the greatest tragedies in the universe while subsequently being one of the greatest ironies."
"Doctor…Doctor, no. That's horrible, that's terrible!"
"It's a war, Mr. Garamond! It's a war, just like any other! The only difference is this one is clean! No mothers to fear sons not coming home, no crippled veterans to carry on the memory…no single survivors to wander the galaxy, alone…"
The Doctor sunk to the floor, his breaths coming in sobs, his body convulsing in anguish.
"Doctor…what are you talking about?"
"I can't say!" the Doctor cried, "I can never say!"
Russell sat next to him, holding onto the wall to keep himself from sliding.
"Come on, I'm a doctor too, remember? Consider this…patient-doctor confidentiality."
The Doctor looked up at Russell, smiling through a face scarred with agony. He sputtered out an awkard laugh and heaved a shuddering sigh.
"Very well, Mr. Garamond. I always knew there was a reason I brought you along…
It was known as the Last Great Time War. It was a war fought through time, with time used as a weapon. Paradoxes, limitations, nothing was safe. Friends and allies could simply disappear from existence directly on the front lines. It was my people, the Time Lords, against beings so evil…no, I don't even want you to hear their name. All you need to know, Mr. Garamond, is that they are the very essence of evil in the universe.
It was at the fall of Arcadia, on my home world of Gallifrey, that we fought the final battle. I had warned my people that they were to be attacked and, given my track record with the enemy, I was placed in charge. Fools, they knew I never liked authority. I gave them my orders and went to the front line, bastic bullets tied about my chest. I had told them to prepare a Paradox Bomb, something never seen before or since. I had given them the design, and its purpose was devilishly simple: to erase all in the blast radius from time. Snap, crackle, pop, over and out. Both of our forces had amassed the last of their armies for this final battle, so this bomb would mean an end to the war. Casualties would be great, resulting in dual genocide like what we have before us, but for the greater need of the universe, for all life everywhere, we could not let the enemies continue.
I remember it clearly. It was a terrible sight. Millions of Time Lords versus million of Dal– enemies, streaming across the ones verdant plains of Arcadia to lay siege of the Time Lord laboratories. I had equipped myself with a Time Ring if those preparing the bomb had any questions. I had just seen the Time Lord next to me fall, and my position was slowly being compromised. I was eliminating enemies left and right with perfectly placed shots, when suddenly the Time Ring began to whir and I was back in the labs. Though I was happy to be alive, I was livid to be taken away from the front lines. In the labs stood the highest figures of Time Lord society, one being my old friend. Her name was Romana, she was President of the Time Lords, and she spoke to me in that pretty little voice she always had:
'We have voted, Doctor. You were the one to warn us of the invasion. You were the one who taught us to fight. You are the one who will be the victor in this war and, as such, you deserve to be the one to win.'
She was talking, of course, about the Paradox Bomb. Removing the detonator with the rest of the blast radius would negate the entire process through its own paradox, therefore the bomb was built to shield one, just one, the detonator, and it was to be me. I tried to protest, but Romana just smiled that pretty little smile and then they all vanished, back to the front lines.
I can still remember it. Sitting in that laboratory, surrounded by deathly silence, knowing what I had to do but now knowing if I could. I could hear the voices of the enemy getting closer and closer, and I knew I had no choice. I detonated the bomb, and the shock of the blast threw me unconscious. When I awoke, I was in the TARDIS. Apparently, its link to me had spared it as well, which was a benefit I had not forseen. I opened the doors and looked out. What was one my home planet of Gallifrey, the sylvan fields of Arcadia, lay nothingness. They were gone. Romana was gone. The Time Lords…were gone.
But so were the enemy. And I took solace in that. I set the TARDIS coordinates and left the area I once called home, and I have been wandering ever since. You see, Mr. Garamond, sometimes people must die, sometimes…they all must die. It is the way of things, it is the way of time."
Russell was absoutely inundated with tears. He attempted to blink a few away as he turned to the Doctor.
"Thank you."
Just then, the entire citadel shook with a thundering boom. The Doctor straightened up, adjusted his tie, snatched up his walking stick, headed with all speed up the ramp.
"Doctor!" Russell shouted, finding it once again to keep up with the little man, "what is it?"
"It's the Polygonals. The Invasion has begun."

The citadel shook in its entirety as thundering footsteps rattled the crystal walls. Below, the beautifully orchestrated shouts of the Kenosian council sounded out muffled between the footsteps, locked within their lead bunker. The Doctor and Russell stood midway on the ramp back to the surface, not knowing whether to flee or stay their ground, as the imminent destruction of Kenos began all around them.
"What do we do now, Doctor?" Russell ventured to ask.
"Well, as I said before, I am not mentioned in accounts of Kenos at any time. This could mean one of two things: either A) we make it out of here and, concurrently, there is no account of our death or B) we all perish… and no one bothers counting the bodies."
Silence reigned for a few brief moments. Swallowing hard, Russell put on a smile.
"Let's go with A, shall we?"
"Indeed, Mr. Garamond, but how?"
"Well…we could stop the war," Russell ventured gingerly.
The Doctor gave him a look that said a thousand words…but that never stopped him from talking before.
"Believe me. Mr. Garamond, I wish we could. I of all creatures should feel justified in preventing such a dichotomous slaughter, but…being the only Time Lord left…"
"What about the Master?"
"Don't remind me," the Doctor droned painfully, "the point is, Mr. Garamond, is that there is a certain way of things, and as one of the few Time Lords left, I need to keep the fabric of time as free from duress as possible."
"But how do you know we weren't supposed to show up here and fix things?"
"Well, apart from the mountain of historical evidence…"
The Doctor rolled his eyes ever so slightly, then realized Russell had caught him, "Sorry. Apart from that, as a Time Lord I can tell when something is wrong…and there is nothing wrong here. Everything is as it should be, even if it means your or my death…that is the way of things.
But do not worry. Where there is death, there is also life. When Kenos collapses, the particulate matter will spread itself throughout the galaxy, thrown about by the simple inertia of the structure collapsing into itself. Some will find its way to other areas of high ionization, and will become parts of new intergalatic coral reefs. Who knows, the very spot on which we stand, and perhaps our very bodies, could form a new world of peace and prosperity tomorrow."
He looked skyward, "Though I fear no world shall ever have the pure musical majesty of Kenos. Such a pity, and I so wanted to see the Last Choir…they say the last songs before the battle were some of the most beautiful ever heard, and…wait!"
He motioned for Russell to look skyward at the high crystal ceiling.
Nothing. No movement.
"The citadel has stopped shaking. Something has repelled the Polygonal that was approaching."
No sooner had the Doctor made that observation than the wall next to them shook with impact. Russell sighed.
"Looks like you spoke too soon, Doctor…"
The Doctor held a hand up to Russell's face, halting all further exchange.
"No…no no… that impact, it was…"
Another thunderous strike, another shake of the wall. The Doctor was jubilant.
"Brilliant! Those strikes are coming from far too low, and they're a straight strike, like a punch, or a headbutt…a Polygonal is ten feet tall, there's no way they could enact such a blow to this wall, it would be physically impossible!"
"So what does that mean?" Russell inquired.
The Doctor didn't have to answer. With one last thundering crash, a fist thrust through the wall from the outside.
A human fist.
An olive-skinned fist.
"Javis!" Russell exclaimed.
The fist removed itself, and thrust once more through the thick crystal wall. Javis' face was now visible through the gap, grinning like a fox and sporting the hat she had bought for the Doctor earlier.
"Oi, Doc. Hey Skinny. Heard you two yammerin' through the wall, did you know these things are darn good amplifiers?" She patted the outside wall, still grinning.
"Where's Colleen?" The Doctor poked his head into the hole.
"Oh, she's here, hold on a tick."
With a few more grunts, Javis had widened the hole significantly. Both girls were now visible, and the brunt of their previous encounter with the Kenosian guard was obvious. Colleen sported a few cuts around her face courtesy of crystal lances, and Javis' knuckles were bleeding from punching so many crystal collars and, later on, walls. Appearances notwithstanding, the two ladies were ecstatic to see their friends, smiles radiating for miles.
Javis made to enlarge the hole further, but Russell halted her.
"You've done enough for a while."
With a few deft kicks from his gangly legs, the weakened crystal wall yielded fairly easy, and both he and the Doctor were allowed easy egress from the citadel. They found themselves on a gentle slope surrounding the massive citadel, with a stunning panorama of most of the planet. The Doctor was right, this was just a small cluster of beautiful crystal, probably no larger than the average moon. From their lofty vista, the edge of the world could nearly be seen on the horizon, and the false atmospheric bubble allowed a clear view into the surrounding space.
A space that was quickly filling with gigantic crystal warships.
The Doctor exhaled deeply and remorsefully. "The advance scouts have signalled the invasion, soon the entire planet will be under siege. The Kenosians will hole themselves up in the citadel until the first, and the last, salvo is fired… ah! Listen! Can you hear that? Faintly on the artifical wind?"
All four companions cocked their ears on the breeze and slowly, but faintly, they could hear the swelling strains of a beautiful melody.
"The Last Choir," The Doctor eulogized, "quite possibly the greatest music ever made in the universe."
The four stood, tiny pinpricks on a giant crystal mountain, enjoying some of the most beautiful sounds ever created. Eventually, the Doctor signalled in the lead, and they made a moderate descent down the mountainside. Oddly enough, the side of the citadel actually had less steep pathways than the construct on the inside, so Russell and the Doctor enjoying a more leisurely stroll. Towards the end of the mountain, echoing crashes, followed by terrified screams could be heard in the distance. The Doctor adopted a sardonic tone.
"Hm. They didn't even warn the vendors or patrons of the invasion they knew was coming. How…callous."
"Doctor, we must find the TARDIS!" Colleen insisted. Smoke creatures were one thing, but giant crystal beasts were quite another.
The Doctor patted her head gently, trying to extinguish her fear, "Don't worry, Colleen, it's right ahead down this path, if I'm not mistaken…"
He started on his way, only to have his path blocked by an enormous crystal foot. Growling dissonantly, a Polygonal soldier towered in front of them, its very speech rattling and upsetting the crystal structure around it. The Doctor's face fell only momentarily, flat and indifferent, then suddenly exploded into a rage as he flung his walking stick like a javelin, sonic screwdriver and all, into the abdomen of the beast. The sonic probe managed to penetrate the hard shell and, once inside, completely disrupted the Polygonal soldier's makeup. As it crashed into a heap of broken glass, it subsequently pulverized the wooden walking stick and, with it, the sonic screwdriver. The Doctor heaved a pained sigh as he looked at the rubble.
"I knew it would only be good for one, but with the planet weakened as it is I had to detonate the sonic force inside the creature. Pity, it will take me a few centuries to make a new one…"
"Doctor, watch out!"
A second Polygonal had thundered off of a transport ship and headed for the Doctor, bent on revenge. Javis, the first to notice this, gathered up Colleen and Russell and threw them forcefully at the Doctor. All three collided and landed in a heap, but safely out of danger. The Polygonal, slighted, turned his attention to Javis. Ready for action, Javis cast aside her leather jacket and the Doctor's new hat, unfurling her wavy dark hair. The artifical wind, still carrying the last notes of the Last Choir threw her hair back from her face as she faced the enemy.
The Doctor was the first back to his feet, shouting as the Polygonal made it's lumbering way toward the New Earth prizefighter.
"Javis!" The Doctor shouted.
"No good, Doctor! We're doing this and we're doing it now. Think of the purse I woulda made on this one, Doc…human versus a creature of pure crystal!" her eyes shone with the light of battle and her face had a terrible beauty to it, framed for the first time by free-flowing hair. She smiled comfortably and laughed sharply, "Get to the TARDIS, Doctor! I can feel the ground breaking up, and I'm sure you can too!" She curled her hands into those expert fists, allowing one single tear to escape her deep, brown eyes.
"Doctor…those things you said to Russell, those things I heard, I just want you to know…you're not alone. You'll never be alone…now go!"
The Doctor nodded once, curtly, choking back tears of his own, and hurried to the TARDIS. Javis picked up the hat she had bought for the Doctor. Despite the wind, she was still able to fling it into the lap of a bewildered Russell, who had only just come to.
"That's the Doctor's hat, you make sure he gets it, eh Skinny?"
Russell couldn't even find words.
"Don't say anything, just take Colleen and go! Go, and make some pasty, skinny babies, you hear me?! GO!"
As she finished the last word, the hand of the Polygonal soldier smashed into the ground where she had stood one second before. The force of the blow created a large crevasse in the ground, which began growing rapidly. Russell, sensing the end was near, slapped the hat on his head, slung Colleen over his shoulder and headed off down the path to the TARDIS himself.
Inside, the TARDIS was now almost completely white and cheery, sounding clicks and whistles as familiar friends trundled in. A few curious beeps were directed at the Doctor, who responded in kind.
"She's not coming."
A few sad clangs rang out, but quickly the matter was changed to dematerialisation. The cravasse created by the Polygonal soldier had widened down the path to the TARDIS, and no sooner had the blue box blinked out of sight than the entire path fell in two.
From her vantage, Javis could see the TARDIS dematerialise. Spitting out blood, and a few teeth, she threw her cut and broken knuckles into the crystal abdomen of the Polygonal. Javis had landed many hits, as she was faster, but the Polygonal had scored three of its own, enough to do some serious damage. Just when it appeared that the brute strength of the crystal monster would prevail, Javis summoned up the last of her energy to deliver a knockout punch to what she only assumed was the creature's jaw. Finally, the crystalline structure gave way and, like any fine jewel, the beast collapsed into a multitude of neatly cloven parts. Standing over the defeated foe, Javis put down her destroyed hands, which had once been her very livelihood, and cocked a near-toothless grin.
"And the winner, by technical knockout, Javis Nine of New Earth," she gasped cockily. Finally collapsing onto the ground, she sat gazing up at the stars, eyes flooded with tears of joy and agony. For all the Doctor had done for her, she was finally able to pay him back. She mixted laughter with sobs as she thought about her time in the TARDIS, her time with the Doctor, her time in heaven.
"Thank You…Doctor."
And with that, she heard the clarion call of Kenosian armaments ring out through the countryside. She laid her head back, breathed in the sweet, fresh air, felt her heart nearly burst with the swell of music, and experienced the disintegration of Kenos.

Once Russell had made sure Colleen was made comfortable in the back, he returned to the console room of the TARDIS. He was amazed to find the doors of the TARDIS open in mid-flight, and the Doctor poised between them, looking out into the abyss. In the distance lay the crumbling remains of Kenos, already scattering through force of astrophysical compression about the universe. As Russell entered, he noticed the Doctor was in a sort of trance, or simply hadn't acknowledged him; he never could tell. As he made his way quietly and reverently toward the Doctor he suddenly heard a small, lonely, plaintive tune reverberate around the room. As he got closer he noticed the Doctor was playing the tin whistle he had used earlier, emitting a sorrowful, lilting melody that hung heavy in the air. After the last notes died, Russell ventures a word.
"Doctor…"
The Doctor placed the tin whistle back in a pocket, and produced his pipe from another, which he chewed on pensively.
"Yes, Mr. Garamond?"
"What was that you were playing, just now?"
"A little song called 'Farewell to Tarwathie.' It tells of a young man heading off for the cold, unforgiving coast of Greenland on a whaling expedition. He tells his friends not to worry, that Greenland will not triumph over him. Even when he is surrounded by icebergs, in a frozen desolate landscape, he listens and revels in the birdsong he hears."
"How are the doors open? Aren't we in space?"
"It's an old trick, a tribophysical waveform macro-kinetic extrapolator, it's creating a forcefield to protect us. Although sadly, the power's almost gone, best close up."
He closed the double doors and turned around to face Russell. His blue eyes were shining, but dry.
"That song was one of Javis' favorite songs. She liked the idea of sailing off for a cold, unknown world. It's funny, Mr. Garamond…the first time I met her, I was keeping her from fighting, but it was that fighting spirit of hers that kept us all alive." He threw a glance to the door leading into the TARDIS interior, "Does Colleen know yet?"
"No, she's sleeping. Took a nasty bump, probably my big, bony elbows that did it."
The Doctor smiled at this, "well, I think you should keep an eye on her, bony elbows and all."
Russell grinned back and went to make his way into the back.
"Russell."
"Yes?"
"Isn't that the hat…the hat Javis bought me?"
Russell suddenly realized the hat was still on his head. Snatching it up quickly, he tossed it to the Doctor.
"There you go, Doctor. Although, are you sure you're going to be able to wear it? You said it didn't match, after all…"
"Perhaps someday, Mr. Garamond, but for now I'll put it in the wardrobe. You go tend to our scarlet-haired sleeping beauty."
With another grin, Russell was gone into the TARDIS. The Doctor took a few moments, turning the hat over in his hands, admiring the fine craftsmanship and soft felt. A single tear threatened to damped the fabric, but the Doctor brushed it away hurriedly. With all due speed, he burst into the interior of the TARDIS and walked in his clipping way down a myriad of hallways.
In the living quarters, Colleen was finally coming to. She held her head in pain as Russell offered her a glass of water. She sat up to take it, she smiled at him.
"Feeling better?" Russell asked.
Colleen nodded. "Sure as ever. A few moments, I'll be back on me feet again." She looked around curiously. "Where's Javis? I've a mind to wallop her for tossin' me about like a wee doll."
Russell swallowed hard. "Javis…didn't make it."
He expected, almost wished Colleen to fly into his arms, but to the contrary she simply took another drink.
"She always wanted to go down swingin, that girl. I sure will miss her."
Though it was not showing, Russell could tell the grief was beginning to affect her from the inside. Sitting on the couch next to her, he threw a nervous arm around her slender white shoulders. Obliging, Colleen buried her face into Russell's shoulder and heaved a few heart sobs. Russell held her tight until he figured she was right enough, and after releasing her found himself staring directly into two glittering emerald eyes awash with fresh tears. Sniffling and wiping the tears away, Colleen gave a sobbing chuckle.
"Sure I could use some whiskey right now…"
Russell obliged by moving over to the small refridgerator across the room and producing a bottle of Jameson. filling two glasses from a nearby hutch, he gave one to Colleen and one to himself. Colleen lifted her glass, eyes shining with a newfound fire, strengthened by the spirit of her friend.
"To Javis," she toasted.
"To Javis." Russell answered.
Meanwhile, the Doctor was in the process of tearing the wardrobe apart. The room echoed with the occasional frustrated grunt along with lamented groans of "where is it?" and "I really should organize this place!" Finally, after tossing aside an old straw hat (which he looked at fondly for a moment) and a emormous sombrero, he found an old fashioned umbrella case in a veritable cave of fabric. With a grunt, he hauled it out, examining the contents. Besides umbreallas of all kinds, the case included canes, walking sticks, a few swords, two pool cues, a surveyor's pole, and a cricket bat. Tossing a few items aside, he found exactly what he was looking for.
It was a lovely brown walking stick, complete with a contoured handle of polished brass. Scrutinising it, he held it up to the felt porkpie, beaming with satisfaction after seeing that it matched perfectly. Snatching up the new walking stick, he flipped the porkpie deftly on top of his head, tapping it once squarely in the center to situate it perfectly above his ears. Admiring himself in a nearby mirror for a moment, the Doctor grinned, ran a finger over the hat brim, and used his new walking stick to navigate his way out of the labrynthine wardrobe room back to the console.
On his way back, there erupted a great thud. All of the TARDIS listed to one side momentarily, then settled back on its base. The Doctor, now moving frantically, met up with Colleen and Russell as they were exiting their room.
"What's going on, Doctor? Where are we?"
"I don't know! I re-engaged the randomiser, just to get out of there oh, I hope we're not beset by Mongols again! They have such atrocious manners!"
Looking at the console screen, the Doctor hastily read the readout and following materials, trying to figure out what was wrong.
"Yes yes, London, 1913, very good. Where in London? Oh? Really? You mean? Well…" he chuckled a bit and straightened up from the console, "my, my my…"
"What is it?" Colleen asked.
"In 1913, George Bernard Shaw's play 'Pygmalion' was set to premiere in London. The only problem was, the leading lady, one Mrs Patrick Campbell by name, was in a car accident and actually could not originally perform. I believe, my friends…" he grinned, "we just made that accident happen."
Russell was mortified, "Oh, good Lord! Is anyone hurt? Should I go check–"
The Doctor silenced him with an outsretched palm, "Don't bother, Mr. Garamond, we've done what we came to do anyway. In fact, I have a better idea now, given the circumstances…what do you say to seeing the real premiere in Vienna?" Before either could speak, he dismissed that idea, "No, no, that wouldn't do, it's a German translation by Shaw himself, but I'm the only one who speaks German here, I think…Russell! Wie geht es Ihnen?"
Russell's perplexed expression said it all.
"Right, so now Vienna…how about April 11, 1914, the actual British Premiere? His Majesty's Theatre, I could probably get you in, what do you think?"
The two companions nodded dumbly, still not sure what is happening.
"Then off we go, 1914! Amazing year really, if you don't count the start of–" He stopped, suddenly, gazing deep into the console.
"Doctor?" Russell asked, "something wrong?"
"Well, Mr. Garamond," the Doctor chuckled wryly, "I just realised that I haven't had a randomiser equipped on this ship in roughly four hundred years. The TARDIS tricked me, it's alive you see, and it apparently wanted all of this to happen. Hm. The Beginning of the apocalypse for the world of the Victorians. The ushering in of a cold, modern society, eschewing the frivvolous warmth of old. 1914, The Year of Ferdinand's Assassination and the advent of the War to End All Wars. Hm, if only that were true. But still, by summer England will be steeped in blood, but not before this lovely play can premiere…oh, you naughty little police box, you're always trying to get me to learn a lesson, aren't you?" He petted a piece of the TARDIS, putting Russell and Colleen slightly ill at ease. The Doctor looked up and them and dismissed their looks with a bothered wave.
"Bah, don't worry. No…no worrying for now. Instead, let's go see this beautiful art before terrible war. Let's go see…the Last Choir."
He walked over to his two companions, threw an arm around each of their shoulders, and smiled warmly.
"Javis would want it that way."

It had been three days since the events of Kenos. Dr. Russell Garamond had spent those days in a funk, Colleen Ciradh had done little but cry, and the Doctor had been uncharacteristically silent. Even the TARDIS seemed to groan and whine softly, mournfully, as the ship and its contents drifted aimlessly through the vastness of space and time. Russell had spent his days moping about the console room, trying to get a feel for the amazing device. Every once in a while the Doctor would step in, notice someone else was in the room, give a curt nod, and then disappear again into the interior. Rusell couldn't help but feel sorry for the strange man, but there was really nothing that could be said or done. Moratorium had to be upheld.
When he wasn't in the console room, he was looking after Colleen. The Irish peasant girl needed almost constant care in her waking hours since the parting of her dear friend. Russell had fed her, what little she would eat, and had attempted to strike up conversation with no avail. The very air of the TARDIS smacked of a woeful silence, but it was not to last.
On the end of the third day, as near as Russell could figure, console began making all sorts of noise. Shaken out of his melancholy, Russell approached, attempting to make sense of the situation. However, he was soon brushed out of the way by a worried Doctor, sporting an even more worrisome outfit.
"Doctor!" Russell began, "What's going on? Why—what are you wearing?"
The Doctor stopped what he was doing an posed, arms akimbo, indignant.
"What? I'm doing laundry!"
He was clad in a brilliant red Welsh national rugby jersey, complimented by his old khaki trousers, brown trainers, and brown tweed Windsor cap. It was just familiar enough to bring back pangs of nostalgia, yet different enough to incite wonder.
Russell shook his head. "Doctor, what's going on?"
"The TARDIS has gotten a little too close to the gravitational pull of a nearby planet. Hmmm…let's have a look…Earth?! Why is it always Earth?"
"Don't we have rockets?"
The Doctor cocked an incredulous eyebrow, "Rockets? This isn't the Gemini I, Mr. Garamond!"
Russell looked cowed, but the Doctor didn't notice, his mind was moving too fast.
"No no, this is perfect. Earth, 1969! Fantastic year, for many reasons…hmm.…I wonder if I can…yes…just a little…lovely!"
The TARDIS gave a whistle, a blink, and swung slightly to the right.
'Where are we going?" Russell ventured to ask.
"Florida, my boy! July 20, 1969! Do you know what that is?" his eyebrows twittered on the edge of madness.
"Moon landing?" Russell was still confused.
"Optime, Mr. Garamond, optime! Think of it: Man on the Moon! If that's no inspiring to the human race, I don't know what is!"
Russell allowed himself a small smile. "Good idea, Doctor."
"Of course it's a good idea! I thought of it!" The Doctor winked and tweaked Russell's nose. He then bustled back into the interior to let Russell wonder exactly had suddenly come over the Doctor. Before he could even formulate a question, the Doctor was back in the console room with a smart looking fedora. He tossed it at Russell as he adjusted his old Windsor.
"Off we go then, Mr. Garamond, off we go!" He chattered as he shunted Russell out the door, "Can't be late, you know, they won't very well hold the rocket for us!" he chuckled at his own joke.
"But what about Colleen?" Russell sputtered.
"She thinks the moon is made of yellow meal, it'd be best not to wake her," he explained as the TARDIS made its customary materialization sound. "Besides," the Doctor muttered under his breath, "after a fifth of Jameson no one's going to get up…"
"What was that?" Russell asked.
"Never you mind, my boy…think Lunar."
As the engine wore down, however, there was a sharp thwacking noise heard outside the door.
"Doctor, did you hear–?" Russell began. But before he could finish, the Doctor was already outside, looking very confused. Russell joined him outside and soon understood why.
"This isn't Florida…" he mumbled.
"This isn't 1969…" The Doctor mused, turning sharply, "but that…is a bullet hole!"
"What?"
"Right in the door there, see?"
"So that was the noise I heard!"
"Yes, very good. Inside, Mr. Garamond…"
They both rushed inside to the console, which the Doctor groaned at upon inspection. He looked at Russell sheepishly.
"You would think that after a thousand years, I would have learned to steer this old crate. It's December 22, 1963, and we're in Dallas. Really, only a few hundred miles off and six years to the left, that's not awful…but still! I think it's safe to say that something is not right, Mr. Garamond…something is not right…"
"What?"
"That bullet that just hit the TARDIS was not meant for you, or me, or even the TARDIS. It was meant for President Kennedy."
Russell was thunderstruck. He could barely speak.
"What?" he rasped.
"We are on the Grassy Knoll, Mr. Garamond, and I mean THE Grassy Knoll. We have interfered with the life and death of someone in history, and you know what that means…"
"Reapers!" Russell shuddered, remembering the Victorian Prime fiasco.
"We are in a race against time itself, Mr. Garamond. President Kennedy is supposed to die, and now he will not. If we do not, the Reapers could very well devour all of your world, causing irrevocable catastrophe. This… is the time for action, Mr. Garamond!"
Throwing himself at the console, the Doctor's fingers flew over the buttons, knobs, and switches.
"Now, I can't cross my own timeline, meaning I can't simply blink back and shove the TARDIS away. However, I can still make history happen as it should! If the shooter was from the knoll, that means there must be another shooter somewhere nearby that I can find to set history right."
"Set history right? You mean killing the President, don't you?" Russell seemed worried.
The Doctor twisted one final knob and the TARDIS groaned into life.
"Sometimes people have to die, Mr. Garamond," the Doctor said, gazing at the screen, "even the good ones. Saints have to die before they can be canonized."
He turned to Russell, cocking an eyebrow. "Mr. Garamond, who shot President Kennedy?"
"That guy, on the knoll, we just saw—"
"No no no! Who shot President Kennedy? According to the official records, who shot President Kennedy?!"
"Uh…uh…" Russell's eyes rolled up. Fine time for a mental block! "Lee Harvey Oswald!"
"That's it!" The Doctor hollered. "Brilliant! Lee Harvey Oswald, Texas Book Depository, Patsy's Magic Bullet! Right on! Good show! Here we go!"
He jammed a lever into position, and they were off. In a matter of seconds, the sound halted.
"We're here." The Doctor announced, cryptically.
They both stepped out into an empty looking floor of a dilapidated book depository. The TARDIS found itself a tight fit, but Russell and the Doctor found their way to Oswald easily. He was perched on a window, rifle at the ready. The Doctor rapped him on the shoulder none too gently. He whirled around, but his rifle was too large for the confines. The Doctor disarmed him easily and began to talk.
"Look, we're here to help you. Take this bullet," he pulled out of the pocket of his sandy trousers, "it will do what it needs to do."
"Why should I trust you?" Oswald scowled, looking down at the Doctor's jersey. "Is that even Russian?"
The Doctor took Oswald's head in his hands and locked their eyes together. His voice was calm and low, at an even level.
"Look into my eyes, Lee Harvey Oswald, and you'll know all you need to know."
The two stood transfixed for a moment then, satisfied, the Doctor turned and began to leave. Russell followed in a silence that was equal parts reverence and terror. Oswald, dumbfounded, silently loaded his rifle with the magic bullet.
Back in the TARDIS, the Doctor gazed at the viewscreen on the console. With a grunt and a nod of satisfaction, he began readjusting the control.
"It's all back to normal?" Russell said, suddenly very cold.
"Yes."
"We just… we just helped to kill President Kennedy. We…killed President Kennedy!"
"We merely did what needed to be done, Mr. Garamond. It's never a question of right or wrong, merely keeping the order. That is the way upon which the Time Lord society is structured. It's up to me to adhere to those laws, Mr. Garamond…there's no one left who can do it now…"
Russell was stone silent for a moment. Finally, he spoke.
"I understand."
"Not yet you don't." The Doctor interjected, hammering a few buttons and sending the TARDIS veering to the left, "But you will."
The materialization noise started and stopped. Russell looked around wildly.
"Now where are we?"
"You'll see, Mr. Garamond."
They stepped out of the TARDIS to an apocalyptic scene. Fragments of stone and wood jutted everywhere, small fires burned and crackled here and there. Russell worried for a moment he'd been brought to Hell.
"Berlin, 1945. At your feet is the rubble that stands atop a bunker. In that underground bunker are the poisoned bodies of Adolf Hitler, Eva Braun, and their German Shepherd, Blondie."
The Doctor turned to Russell, his eyes soaked with knowledge. "A bad man, a truly evil man is dead, Mr. Garamond…are you upset?"
"…yes…" Russell's response surprised him.
"And why are you upset?"
"Because…because…someone is dead."
"Two someones. And a dog."
"Yes, yes, of course."
"Is it merely that they are dead? Is it because you wanted to see that truly evil man die? Do you feel vindicated? Do you feel proud?"
"No!"
The Doctor stopped in his tracks, curious.
"No," Russell continued. "I feel…sad. No human…no…thing…should have to die."
"But…" The Doctor lead.
"But it happens. And it must. And sometimes, it's for the best.."
"Very good, Mr. Garamond, very good." The Doctor smiled and looked up at the fiery evening sky, now almost free of bombers and flak.
"It was all some kind of test, wasn't it?" Russell said, turning away from the rubble.
"Hm?"
"You didn't misdirect the TARDIS. You didn't accidentally deflect that bullet. You didn't just happen to have the right bullet on you for Oswald. This was all a test, this was all some kind of damn… evaluation, wasn't it?"
The Doctor hung his head just slightly.
"Yes, Mr. Garamond, it was. Actually, you're catching up much quicker than I had originally theorized, I'm very pleased. As for the…nature of today's events… react how you will, they usually run the gamut."
"I'm equally…reverent and outraged…"
"That would be the gamut." The Doctor replied, grinning, "Come on, let's head back to the TARDIS. You have a severely inebriated young lass to attend to, and I don't envy you."
"Are you going to keep testing me?" Russell blurted with accusation.
"Only until you can anticipate the test, Mr. Garamond. Then, and only then, will my work be done."
And with that, the two headed back into the TARDIS, off for parts unknown.