Disclaimer: I don't own Arthur or Doctor Who.
"It's that kind of thinking that's gonna get this planet conquered!" - Buster Baxter
Several weeks ago…
On a blue leather recliner inside a spacious, dome-shaped chamber relaxed a man with brown hair and muttonchops, wearing a brown jacket and tie. His legs were crossed casually, and he grasped in his hands a copy of Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon. As he read, he thought, If only he knew the whole truth about the Phoebus cartel. It went far beyond light bulbs…so far beyond…
He abruptly dropped the book. A sensation not unlike suffocating inside a coffin had flooded his mind. Surrounded by air, he choked and struggled for breath. He recognized the feeling—he had experienced it only once before, when his entire race had been annihilated in the blink of an eye. It's happening again, he realized. Somewhere in the universe, millions of intelligences advanced enough for time travel are being destroyed all at once.
This requires my immediate attention. Leaping up from the recliner, he hurried to the hexagonal console mounted on the floor in the chamber's center. His eyes ran over the output screens, checking for unusual radiation signatures or time-space disruptions. Nothing out of the ordinary here—it must be coming from over fifty thousand light-years away. Beyond that range, I know of only one time-capable race, the Kron. I've never met them, and I don't know much about them, but I'm sure of one thing—anyone capable of wiping them out in a heartbeat must be dangerously powerful…
After a quick search through his stellar database, he manipulated the controls to set a course for the Kron homeworld. A slight lurch and a few seconds of nausea-inducing vibrations later, a green light flashed on the console, indicating that the destination had been reached. He flipped a switch to activate a viewscreen, and beheld the lush, green planetscape below. No signs of hostile action, he observed. The ecosystem, the cities, the buildings, they're all intact. It's as if everyone's been beamed away…except for one person. Wait…is that another life sign? No, it can't be…
The presence was unlike anything he had ever sensed, and it was on the ship with him. To his surprise, its appearance was almost comical. Its shape resembled that of a human female, but with the face and ears of a rabbit. It (she) wore a long dress of pure blackness, and her hair and eyes were a similar shade. Once she had glanced around curiously at the interior of the vessel, she gazed directly at him with palpable menace.
"Interesting," she spoke in a disarmingly sweet voice. "It's bigger on the inside than on the outside. What do you call this machine?"
He stammered in spite of himself. "I…I call it the TARDIS," he said in a refined Manchester accent. "That stands for Time and Relative Dimensions in Space."
"Knowing what it stands for doesn't help," said the rabbit woman matter-of-factly. "And who are you?"
"I'm the Doctor," replied the man in the brown jacket. "And you?"
The visitor took mincing steps toward him. "I haven't chosen a name for myself yet," she stated. "I suppose the name Dark Augusta is as appropriate as any."
The Doctor hesitated anxiously before asking his next question. "Are you responsible for the removal of the people on…"
Dark Augusta flicked her hand at him. Before he had a chance to recognize it and resist, his thought processes had been rerouted to serve a new master.
"Grobblitz will try to go back in time and prevent my existence," she said. "Your machine is capable of traveling to any point in time. I command you to take me to the beginning of the universe, where Kron time travel technology can't reach me."
"I obey," said the Doctor placidly.
The present day
Principal Herbert Haney lay on his back on a field in Minnesota, blood oozing from the bullet wounds in his chest.
To be continued