A/N: And you thought we were almost finished here...

Part Five

As I watched in sorrow there suddenly appeared
A figure grey and ghostly beneath a flowing beard
In times of deepest darkness I have seen him dressed in black
Now my tapestry's unraveling, he's come to take me back

J'Accuse!

Still sitting around the old wooden dining table in Baby, Datherion continued his story. "I don't know how many jumps I've made over the past two centuries, trying to find and then trace the name Gallifrey. I thought I had it a few times, but it kept slipping away into nothing. And having to wait for so long in between while the TARDIS slowly recharged... It got frustrating, quite often. But I couldn't give up. Somehow I knew I'd find whoever left me the coral and the cup eventually." He smiled down the table. "Never dreamed it would be my own family."

"You know..." Tis'hania began speculatively. "It occurs to me now, knowing what you've been doing... You've been living very much the same kind of life that your son has. Constantly traveling – well, as often as you could, anyway. No real home except your TARDIS. Getting involved in things wherever you found yourself, when you couldn't avoid them. The only difference – unless you hid something from me – is that you didn't pick up traveling companions along the way."

Quickly assuring her that he hadn't, Datherion looked from her to the Doctor. "Is that how you've been living, too?"

The Doctor nodded. "Pretty much. Except for lately, I never stayed anywhere for very long. Always moving on to the next adventure."

The two of them gazed at each other for a long, considering moment. "I guess we're more alike than we realized," Datherion finally commented.

On the Doctor's far side, Rosita leaned back slightly out of their line of sight, smiling at her mother-in-law. Well done! she mouthed the words soundlessly, and Tis gave her a ghost of a wink.

Just then, a new voice came from the doorway. "Excuse me, everyone." Surprised, they turned to see the healer Dashok there, smiling apologetically. "Please forgive me," he went on, turning to Datherion and Tis'hania. "I've been sent as an emissary. You were spotted leaving your seclusion, unfortunately. And now everyone – the entire colony – wishes the chance to greet you and hear your story. Will you accept our invitation to continue this celebration in the common? It's a beautiful evening outside."

His timing was perfect; they'd pretty much finished eating. So, accepting the invitation, the family stood, taking a few minutes first to help clear the table. During the bustle, Romana stepped to Dashok's side.

"What is it, Dashok? I can tell you're troubled by something."

He started to speak, then shook his head. "Nothing I can put my finger on. There are some disturbing resonances on the telepathic network regarding this development. But I can't quite 'hear' what's being said, or by whom. I'm just a little uneasy."

The colony leader immediately went on the alert. "If it's not being said in the clear, then whoever it is has something to hide. I don't like this, Dashok."

Reminding her that communication on the network was usually non-vocal, he nevertheless agreed; the resonances were troubling. Without a word they agreed to keep an eye out for trouble.

A short time later found Romana leading a procession up the hill to the village and into the common, finding it awash with light from bonfires and torches, as well as two of Pacifica's three moons high overhead. The tiny corin sproutling in the center, protected now by a circular thigh-high rock wall, had already grown several inches and was sporting silver leaf buds along its length, symbolizing the colony's hopes for the future on this new world. Datherion had reluctantly agreed to allow Romana to present him officially and publicly to the citizenry, most of whom had been born after his disappearance, so she led the group to the corin and hopped up onto the wall, instantly gaining everyone's attention.

Before she could say a word, though, a loud cry came from nearby. "Lord Datherion! Welcome, Lord President!" It was Kaphir, flanked by several of his cronies, holding himself erect and trying to ignore the rips in his old council robes. Holding his hands wide, palms up, he gave Datherion the ancient formal bow of greeting.

"Kaphir," Datherion replied pleasantly enough (picking the name up from Tis' mind; his own memory agreeing with the identification a beat later, supplying an image of the Councillor delivering a speech in the Chamber). "I thought the honorific titles had been dropped."

"Along with a great many other things that should not have been forgotten," came the pompous reply. "Our people have lost their way, Lord President. We have fallen from our rightful place on the heights, and are wandering in the wilderness, just as you have been. But now, with your return, now is the time for us to return to our former greatness! Will you accept the challenge, my Lord, and lead us back home?"

Datherion wasn't the only one who blinked hard at that. The majority of those within earshot – which was the entire population of the colony – stood gaping at the former Councillor. Romana reacted first, attempting to relate Kaphir's evident flight of fantasy to current reality. "Are you calling for another vote on colony leadership, Kaphir?"

Kaphir spared her a haughty glance. "There is no need for a vote, Lady Romana. Whenever a former President, removed from office by fate rather than election, returns, he is automatically restored to that office! As you were. As Rassilon was! And here is your own immediate predecessor, returned to us at last. For what other purpose than to lead us back to glory?"

The Doctor stepped forward. "Gallifrey is gone, Kaphir. How many times must that be said? Our home world, in our home universe, is a cinder!"

"So you say," Kaphir hissed, turning on the former exile in fury. "You, who did everything you could to drive us into the ground, to destroy our power and glory, to destroy our very civilization! And you succeeded!" Suddenly, all bets were off, all facades were dropped, as the old Councillor let loose with every drop of bitter enmity he had carried hidden for six years – longer, for the entire century of half-life within the Time Lock; vengeance and implacable hatred for the one he held solely responsible for his people's downfall came pouring out with every word. "I name you traitor, Doctor, traitor against all Gallifreyan life! I charge you with the genocide of our people, and the destruction of our planet, our entire civilization! For too long you have been wandering free without paying for your crimes. No more! I am holding you under arrest, Doctor, and I will prosecute you myself!"

"And be judge and jury, as well?" Romana cut across his ranting. "And what actions of the Doctor's, specifically, are you charging him with?" Her mind was racing with the implications of Kaphir's own words and actions, both for the past and the future of the infant colony. Where had this insanity come from? For it was insanity, she was certain: his wild eyes gave it away.

"It is well known that he set the Time Lock, and then destroyed it, which first froze the sector and all within into that state far worse than death, and then blasted it into atoms!"

"Wrong!" Romana replied, to Kaphir's initial bewilderment. "I took both those actions, although the Doctor was present for the first – and only the first. It was my hands that did the work. Will you charge me, as well?" She knew her mistake instantly, as her old adversary's eyes glowed in (slightly mad) triumph.

"And me?" Joshua broke in before Kaphir could reply, stepping forward to stand beside the Doctor. "I was there, as well. All three of us were in that chamber, setting then breaking the lock in turn."

"Or me?" Datherion whirled in even greater shock, as his bondmate stepped forward calmly to join the others. She went on, "If you would charge those who took the actions, should you not also charge the one who set them their tasks? It was I who sent each one below, in turn."

"Nor will you stand alone, Tis'hania." Yet another detached himself from the surrounding crowd and joined those accused; Presonne. "I had my part in that, as well, and I am proud of it."

Sensing triumph, Kaphir's feral smile grew broader yet. All of his enemies were within his grasp at last. "So be it! ALL of you will answer for your crimes against society at last!"

But before he could continue ranting, the Doctor broke in, low and level. "Oh, no. I won't be judged by the likes of you, Kaphir. Not for that. Not for anything."

"Nor will you, my son." Amazingly, Tis'hania was still calm and regal. "For if you insist on pursuing this folly, Kaphir, then I will formally lay charges against you, as well. And against every single remaining member of the Time Lord Council, save myself and Presonne."

"Charges of what?" sneered Kaphir, certain of his purity.

Tis'hania stepped in front of the rest, gathering the eyes of every being in the common, and spoke her next words with careful precision, her voice carrying clearly to the furthest corners of the common. "I will charge you all with conspiracy to commit the ultimate genocide, Kaphir: the absolute destruction of every living being in existence, and the destruction of time itself. It was you – ALL of you – who conspired with Rassilon to bring about the end of time. And it was that ultimate evil, that universal genocide that I, and each of these others, acted to prevent." She paused, allowing her words to sink in to all those watching the spectacle. "It's your choice, Kaphir."

"And who will do the judging, then, Lady," Kaphir replied, continuing to imbue each use of the honorifics with dripping sarcasm. "Shall we sit in judgment of each other, yet again?"

"Of course not. Judgment will be rendered by the citizens of Gallifrey, those who endured the century under the Time Lock frozen, outside the Council Chamber. Not a pool selected from them, either. ALL of them, together. This is a matter for everyone to decide."

Kaphir hesitated for a fleeting moment, some remnant of sense screaming for him to desist, but it was overruled by his long, simmering, seething hatred of those who had brought him down from the place he considered rightfully his: the pinnacle of the universe, Time Lord. The thought that those same citizens might not share his sense of ultimate entitlement, hidden deep underneath their tame acceptance of exile these past six years, never crossed his mind.

"So be it," he sneered. Then he turned again to Datherion. "Lord President, will you accept your ancient mandate, and return to your rightful place? Will you oversee this proceeding?"

Datherion stared at him, bug-eyed, rendered momentarily speechless by the man's gall. "You honestly expect me to preside over a trial that will determine the fate of my bondmate, my son, and my grandson? Have you lost all contact with reality, Kaphir?" He moved his feet at last, taking the three steps that brought him to the Doctor's side behind Tis and placing his hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "I stand with my son."

Taken aback, Kaphir stared at the tableau, then sniffed yet again. "So be it," he repeated. "We begin in the morning." Without a glance at those who he'd just imperiously drafted into jury duty, he swept out of the common, the dozen-or-so of his loyal followers on his heels.

"Blimey" breathed Joshua. He turned to Datherion. "Not exactly the most joyous homecoming I've ever witnessed."

"Lady Romana?" It was Dashok. As he'd never been on the Council, he was one of those citizens. "What do we do now?"

She shook her head at him, sadly. "You're going to have to step up and figure it out, Dashok. I can't help you." She looked around, seeing the mass of people shifting slowly, gathering into knots and groups. Apparently the former Councillors were shaking themselves out, watching their fellow colonists – and now, suddenly, judges – warily. "Gather up all the citizens and prepare yourselves as best you can. You'll need to elect a leader, to preside over the trial. Use one of the old common buildings as a meeting place. Datherion? Would you be willing to advise them on procedures, at least?" He nodded, and she turned back to Dashok, shaking her head sadly. "I'm sorry, old friend. You have no idea. You were right about those resonances in the network, though."

Another citizen had stepped up to the group. "Lady Tis'hania? Were you not a TruthSeeker?"

He began to go on, but she cut him off. "Yes, but I now stand accused. I cannot stand as TruthSeeker as well. And you must decide among yourselves how much weight to put to my words, compared to any other's. But don't worry – you're not without a TruthSeeker. Felisara was my pupil once, though she left before taking the final vows. I would vouch for her at any time, and have no qualms over her standing now for this."

She nodded over his shoulder at the woman who had appeared there, and they turned to ask Felisara wordlessly if she would take on the responsibility. She looked as upset as the rest, but visibly steeled herself and nodded. "It needs doing," was all she said.

As Dashok and the other new "civilian" leaders reluctantly turned and began herding their fellows towards the line of abandoned group homes, the expanded family likewise began shifting, still in shock, turning to drift back down the hill to Baby. Datherion suddenly realized that the Doctor had neither moved nor spoken for the last several minutes, and turned to look at his son, squeezing his shoulder where his hand still rested there. "Are you all right?" he whispered.

The Doctor was shaking. Even with everything else crashing down around him, it seemed his entire existence had shrunk, concentrating on that one shoulder. His father's hand resting there, not in anger but in support. Do you have any idea what that gesture, those words, mean to me? I've been waiting all my life to hear you say that. He raised his own trembling hand and laid it atop his father's, closing his eyes against the prickling tears.

He hadn't sent the words, but somehow Datherion understood. He stood a moment in silent communication, then squeezed his shoulder again. "Come on, son. Let's get off this hill."