A/N:

Summary: Narvin gets a special delivery ... then some really unsettling information... Nekkid Brax makes a reappearance...

Notes: "I waited all weekend for THIS?"

Yeahhhh ... heh ... over estimated my writing capability here, didn't I? HA! Oh well, I did try...

A day full of interruptions and frustration and the return of a headache that I have found is coming from the incessant thumping of music coming through from the upstairs ... It's really annoying and just disrupts the flow, maaaaan...

Anyhooo, so I hope you enjoy this. Next chapter I can actually have the Doctor being the Doctor and doing Doctory things and being awesome like he is. I cannot wait!

~~oooOOOooo~~

There were thankfully no people walking the hallways of the capitol at this time of the evening. Nightfall on Gallifrey was definitely a quieter moment, perfect for some illicit stalking and intelligence gathering. It didn't mean that his conversations couldn't be monitored. There were plenty of ears around the place. Fortunately, as the coordinator of the agency that installed the security systems, he knew where each and every mic and camera was hidden.

His eyes were in constant motion as he walked and held his phone to his ear on the search for anything his agency wasn't quite aware of …

…Not out of the realm of possibility.

"Romana," he said with a low tone and a flat voice. "It's Narvin."

"Hello Narvin," she replied with light impatience in her tone. "Is this important? We are in the middle of something right now."

"So I saw," he answered coolly. "As has Rassilon."

"I'm sorry?" she answered with only a light sound of surprise in her voice. "Did you just say Rassilon?"

"Do we have an unclear reception?" he asked with a huff in his voice. "I'd much rather not have to repeat myself multiple times."

"No. You came through clear. I was merely attempting to express my sense of surprise at the mention of our Lord President and his knowledge of our activities."

"I see," he drawled long. "Rassilon is not only aware of your current activities, Romana. He's got it on livestream right now and is watching it with a rather morbid sense of rapt fascination." He exhaled and took a look around him as he neared his office. "Tell me, Romana, just what is it that you, Leela, and Braxiatel are trying to do out there?"

"We are trying to put an end to an abomination," she shot back with frustration in her voice. "To crimes committed against our people by the current Supreme Lord President."

"That sounds ominous," Narvin answered carefully. He made it to his office and looked over his shoulder before activating the door release to step inside. "What crimes has he committed?"

"You don't know?"

Narvin let out a huff as he waited for the sensors for the lights in his office to activate and light up his desk. "I would hardly ask you if you did," he replied with his own huff of frustration.

"If it was to find out what I knew about it, you would," she corrected.

"Just get on with it," he growled.

"You dare give me an order?"

"Please Romana," he breathed out with exasperation. "I need to know what level of interference I am expected to provide to you." He exhaled. "And that's only if I can provide any at all. The ramifications of what Braxiatel and Leela are doing right now is beyond anything any of you can comprehend – and on more levels that you can imagine."

"Narvin, do you know what he's doing here? What Rassilon has set up on Estrail, and the truly horrific nature of it?"

Narvin walked toward his desk, one hand inside the pocket of his tunic, the other held the phone against his ear. "How about you tell me," he breathed out. There was as much curiosity in his tone that frustration or annoyance – but that was mostly due to the elaborately decorated gift basket that was on his desk. A basket that wasn't there before he left.

Romana let out a huff. "I don't know how much you know about what is happening on Estrail, Narvin," she began. "And I do hope that you don't know what's happening here."

"Investigating perpetual power sources as is my understanding," he answered distractedly as he poked his finger into the purple cellophane wrap surrounding the basket. He plucked a card from the ribbon tied at the top. "Natural resources from Estrail's core. At least that's what I read on the scientific reports from the planet."

"That's not even slightly accurate," she answered darkly.

His lips tipped into a smile as he read the card, unintentionally ignoring Romana on the other end of the phone.

"Narvin.

It was lovely to meet you, and thank you for helping Brax, the Doctor, Leela, and Andred from the assassination attempt. You left before I could give you some coffee beans, so I nicked Brax's credit card to pull together a basket of the best from planet Earth for you.

I have no idea at all how this will get to you, but Brax said he'd get it to you somehow. (he hasn't checked his credit card statement yet, so for now assume it's from him as well as me – until he throws a fit and then it's all from me)

Enjoy! Instructions on how to get the best of the beans are inside.

I look forward to meeting you again soon.

Rose xox"

"Braxiatel is right," he said with a smile as he peered through the cellophane at the contents of the basket. "You are an amazing woman."

"Narvin?" Romana replied with quiet and worried curiosity. "What did you just say?"

He hummed in question.

"You're being inappropriately familiar," she continued. "At a very inappropriate time."

His eyes flashed and he dropped the card to the table. "Oh, I am very sorry. I was talking to someone else. Please…" He cleared his throat. "Please continue."

"Oh, do I actually have your full attention now?"

"Very much so," he answered with a shrug as he undid the bow and folded down the cellophane. "You always do."

"Rassilon's power source," she began with a huff. "Is not from the core of Estrail."

"Then where is it from?" He held a bag of coffee beans and dropped his nose for a quick smell of it. "Estrail's core power has always been known to produce massive energy and magnetic field spikes when its sun throws out flares. Hard to capture, of course, but he and his scientific board say they've found a way…"

"They're using Time Lord energy," she cut in quickly. "Specifically, the Regeneration energies of a dying Time Lord."

The bag of coffee dropped onto his desk. It burst at the bottom seam, spilling dark roasted beans across his desk. He didn't have focus on it to worry about the loss of coffee. "I don't know that I want to ask this, Romana. But how is he doing that?"

"By stealing the remaining regenerations of a dying Time Lord," she answered gravely.

His breath drew in hard enough that he felt it as a pain inside his chest. His voice was barely a whisper. "How is he doing that?"

"How can you not know?" she charged him. "As the Coordinator of the CIA…"

"I don't deal with the Scientific Council and their movements," he corrected her. "You should know that, Romana. The CIA is responsible for a lot of things, but not all of them. What Rassilon and the current circus of fools on council get up to have become a mystery even to me."

"I hardly believe that for a second," she argued on a low voice. "When I was President, you knew everything."

He snorted. "I never feared death when you were President, Romana. With Rassilon…" he drew in a breath and continued slowly. "He's a tyrant who is not above a public execution and excise of all regenerations if only to make an example of you." He flashed his eyes to the door. When he continued he was barely audible. "I don't have any regenerations. I can't take the chances that I used to."

"Yet you still take a chance for me…"

"You were my Lady President," he answered her. "And you always will be. Loyal to you until the end, if you will."

"And I thank you for that," she said with honest affection and appreciation. "With that said, can I ask that you do some digging for me and learn what you can about Rassilon's use of the Dogma Virus to send Time Lords to their death here on Estrail."

"He's doing what?" he barked out with shocked incredulity. "The Dogma Virus?" his head shook and he found himself backing away from his desk with shock as though it was somehow infected. "He can't. He can't do that, Romana! That virus. There's no cure. No antidote. No inoculation." He panted a couple of breaths and dropped his forehead into his hand. "That virus should have died centuries ago. Gallifrey was supposed to be cured. How can he possibly have gotten his hands on that?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "But it's clearly here on Estrail." She swallowed. "Narvin. There are thousands upon thousands of casualties here. Brax and Leela have encountered many of the Zombies of our fallen… so many of them."

"If that virus somehow escapes Estrail and comes to Gallifrey. Romana. That'll wipe out every last remaining Time Lord on this planet."

"The Doctor is working on a cure with Lord Phiroi of Oakdown."

"Phiroi?" he asked. "He's been missing for centuries. Long since been thought dead to the War. He's alive?"

"He's been working with us since the fall of Southern Gallifrey."

"We could have used him on the front lines here."

"In a way, you were," she answered. "But this isn't the time for that discussion, Narvin. Right now, I need to know not only how Rassilon was able to resurrect the Dogma virus, but how we can possibly…" She exhaled almost to a whimper. "We need to end this. By the Gods, Narvin. You should see what he has done here, and how many of our people have fallen to it so needlessly. And for what reason? For what reason do they need to die like this?"

"You have the human with you" he asked after a moment. "The Doctor's mate, Rose." He looked to the door, not really waiting for an answer, but wanting a moment to think. "Rassilon is of the belief that whatever you have on your hands down there, she is able to counter off. I don't know why or how, but he's become very curious as to how Braxiatel intends on wielding her power to do it."

She let out a laugh. "Not even Brax knows that," she shot back. "I don't think the thought has crossed his mind, to be honest. He's protecting her, not trying to pull a trigger on her."

"When I left Rassilon," he advised her darkly. "He was intrigued as to what she would do. He believes she has a power of sorts inside her." He exhaled. "So you'd best hope he's right." He then winced. "Or hope he's wrong. If she's got the power he believes she had, he'll destroy the universe to get to her and take her as his own little science experiment."

"She does," she admitted. "But enough inside her to fight against the howling souls of ten thousand regenerations? I don't know."

He exhaled a long breath. "Is she susceptible to the virus? Is any part of her Time Lord enough that she can become contaminated and…" he gulped. He didn't want to finish that thought.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "She has links with capsules; the Doctor's TARDIS, Brax's capsule, Phiroi's. I don't know if that means she has the nuclei that the virus attacks."

"She won't be able to return to her home, her children, and the refugees until they've found a cure." He swallowed. "Which means the Doctor will work hard to find a cure. I shouldn't feel relief about that, Romana. But I do. The chance that we can fight this virus and put an end to that threat indefinitely – it's worth it." He exhaled. "And I can't find it in me to feel terrible about that. I can't. I know I should, but…"

"I understand," she admitted almost painfully. "I feel the same way. The Doctor… If anyone can find a cure and save our people, he can."

He cleared his throat with a cough and looked up at the ceiling. "You're risking a Human life to get the Doctor on side, Romana."

"I didn't know," she assured him. "Had I known what was out there, I would never have sent her. I would never have allowed Braxiatel to go in there, either."

"And as usual, he's in the thick of it." He sniffed and dropped his chin to his chest. "Look. I'll see what I can find out from here for you, and whether or not this is the only planet that Rassilon's doing this to. I expect so, as a project of this magnitude, and this much collateral damage to our people, it has to be contained."

"How upset is Rassilon?"

Narvin snorted. "He's quiet. Not exploding…"

"By the Gods, he's livid, then."

"Exactly," Narvin agreed gravely. "So keep yourself out of sight. Bad enough that Braxiatel and Leela are within sight of this. If you or the Doctor step in, things here on Gallifrey may become apocalyptic with his fury." He sniffed. "He refuses to accept the constant hallway whispers and comparisons toward your former leadership of Gallifrey." He smiled. "And just how much of a golden age Gallifrey was in…"

"Until it wasn't," Romana argued lightly. "The destruction of Gallifrey began under my watch, don't forget that."

"Its resurrection came under your watch as well," he looked toward his door, and an urgently flashing mauve light on a panel at its side. "But I must go now. I have someone on approach. Best I don't get caught talking to you."

"Understood," she breathed out. "And Narvin. Please be safe."

"As Leela says: Where is the fun in that?" He thumbed to disconnect the call and quickly dropped it into a drawer of his desk. The door hissed and then opened with a lazer-like hum.

Rassilon stood in the doorway, his expression was dark and furious. "Coordinator Narvinectralonum…"

~~oooOOOooo~~

The Doctor was unable to stop the rush he had toward the towering inferno of howling souls and rushing winds. He felt himself caught up by the draft of it, and by his desperate need to stop his wife from being torn apart inside the winds of time.

He was close enough to catch her. His arm thrust forward, his fingertips brushed against the hood of her jumper, but he was unable to clutch at it. Unable to grasp and stop her as she was caught by the wind and pulled into the spiral of winds.

He wasn't going to lose her. Not to this. He would follow her into death if need be. To regenerate or not, that wasn't even a question – he wouldn't go on in a universe in which she didn't exist. He closed his eyes and prepared to feel himself launch up off the ground.

There was a hard yank on the back of his orange space suit, and he found himself thrown a remarkable distance back from the funnel. He flew through the air and landed hard on his backside. His back and head hit the ground shortly after his butt hit the ground and he lay there for a moment in an attempt to catch his breath and his bearings. When he moaned and finally looked up, he found himself under the furious stare of his big brother.

"You absolute, reckless, idiot fool," Braxiatel yelled out sharply. "Do you ever think before you act, Thete?"

"Think?" he snapped back with equal sharpness in his tone as he rocked up to a seat on the concrete. He thrust an arm upward toward the funnel. "What is there to think about except to get to her; to pull my wife out of a guaranteed death at the hands of that?"

"Plenty, if you had half a brain capable of actual thought," Braxiatel shot back.

"You were the one who told me to stop her!" he growled. "I was doing what you told me to do."

"I did not say get yourself killed in the process, you idiot." He brought the butts of both hands up to press against the visor that still covered his face. "Even you have to know there's an end-point to when stopping her is actually possible to achieve."

"And if it was Romana going in there," he argued. "Would you have stopped; or would you have killed yourself going in there after her?"

"Don't bring her into this."

"At least I still have regenerations to count on," he growled as he pulled to his knees and slowly drew to a shaking stand. "You, on the other hand, don't."

"With that," he said with a thrust of his hand toward the funnel. "Do you think regeneration is actually possible; or will every one of them you have left end up floating into that vortex with the rest of them?"

"There's one way to find out, isn't there?" he challenged with a snarl.

"I know it's a hard ask, Thete, but for once in your lives, don't be a complete imbecile."

Leela let out a growl of her own. "How about the two of you save your yelling at each other for later. Rose is in that tornado and so we should start to plan how to get her out of there before she is torn apart."

Both men immediately shut their mouths, but their glares remained solidly argumentative toward each other as they shared a look and then looked toward the funnel. The image before the three of them was horrific. Rose's body was being tossed around the outer edges of the funnel, her arms and legs flailing helplessly against the winds. Despite the violence within the funnel, however, she didn't seem to be in any particular state of duress of fear. If anything, she appeared to be focused toward the centre of the funnel, to where there were no winds nor howling faces to push at her. Her body twisted and spun against the winds. Her arms and legs flicked and splayed against the wind, but her face was locked into the very centre. No matter how much she was thrown, or how many times she spun in the winds, her gaze remained in place like a dancer on the stage spotting her pirouettes.

A dark figure rose within the centre of the funnel. A shifting blob that slowly rose up from the ground that twisted and turned to finally resemble a humanoid figure. He turned in the centre of the tornado, keeping time with the woman being thrown about around him. Once perfect synch to her movement was found, he lifted an arm toward her and caught her hand in his. With a hard tug, he pulled Rose from the whip of the wild winds and into the calm centre. She was well above his head when she broke through the wall and fell heavily onto the concrete floor at his feet. She held at her lower back and let out a sharp cry of pain.

The Doctor stepped quickly forward with the blind intention to step in and intervene in some way. He found himself held back by the hard grasp of his brother.

"Don't," he warned him. "She's okay."

"She is not," he countered with a hiss through his teeth as he watched the stranger within the tornado merely drop a hand in offer to aid her to a stand. She just lifted her head toward him. There was obvious hurt in her expression toward the man and she didn't accept his offer to help her to a stand. "God, Brax, even you can't be that blind to it."

"I'm not," he growled. "But I'm also not idiot enough to think that killing myself will help her in any way right now."

The Doctor held himself in a furious slouch. He held his gloved hands in fists at his side. His head was deep inside his shoulders, and with the blue light of his visor ghosting the angled features in his face, he looked every bit as livid as he felt.

Inside the funnel, Rose finally drew herself to a shaking and pained stand. The figure that stood before her held out his arms to help her find balance against the winds that still whipped at the backs of her legs and shoulders. He held her arms with a gentle firmness and lowered his face to speak to her. He was unheard by anyone else, but the attention that Rose had on him, and her slowly warming posture of affection toward him, confirmed that he wasn't any threat toward her at all.

In a moment, she lifted up onto her toes and threw her arms around his neck. He pressed his lips to the very centre of her forehead and held her loosely in place.

"Who is he?" he asked with a sneer.

"Who?"

"That man," he clarified. "Who is he."

"Me," Braxiatel answered with a deep inhale. "He should have been two bodies from now – if my own records of who I was supposed to be is accurate."

"You're naked," he said with displeasure.

"It does appear that I am, doesn't it?"

"And you're kissing my wife."

"Just be thankful she isn't looking down," he muttered with an indignant sniff. "Or she might get a pretty good indicator of what she's missing."

"Not exactly the time," he growled in reply.

"Should we be trying to go ion after her?" Leela asked worriedly. "I do not feel that she is in safe hands."

Braxiatel shot her a look from across the chest of his brother. "She is in my hands, Leela."

"Then I shall repeat my concern that Rose is not in safe hands right now." Around her legs the two wolves marched their white paws into the ground. The tikka tikka of their sharpened claws on the concrete was loud enough to be heard over the din. It made each member of the party flinch with each sound.

"Trust me," he begged in order. "I obviously know what I'm doing."

"If there is one that I do not trust, Braxiatel, it is you," she countered with a look.

"You were the one that let her go in there, Leela." He gestured to the underneath of his chin. "You held a knife at my throat and told me to trust myself with her…"

"Yes," she replied. "I told you to trust yourself. I did not say that I held that same trust in you."

He rolled his eyes and looked back to the funnel, shocked to see his future self now holding Rose's face in his hands as he spoke to her. His expression was one of urging, of pleading, and urgency. Rose merely nodded her head with each shift and turn of his lips.

"Never before have I wanted to be able to read lips," the Doctor muttered. "Eight Billion languages, and that's not one of them."

"He's asking for her to give him trust," Leela translated softly. "In much larger words, of course. I do not wish to repeat all of what is a private talk between brother and sister, but he is saying that there is only one way to save every one of them." She looked toward the Doctor. "Only one way to save herself as well."

"Which is?" he asked worriedly.

"I do not know," she admitted. She looked to Braxiatel. "Do you know?"

He shook his head slowly. "I really don't." His eyes were locked on the couple inside the centre of the funnel, and the kind expression on the face of his elder incarnation toward a woman who was almost a full foot shorter than he was. The figure settled his fingers against her temples and looked directly toward Braxiatel with an expression of anger and warning.

"There's no way to take cover," Braxiatel murmured in warning. "But I have a feeling that's exactly what I'm asking us to do right now." He shook a hand toward Leela. "I have enough strength that I can brace you," he offered. "So come here."

"I do not think so," she answered him indignantly. "I can stand on my own, thank you Braxiatel."

"As you wish." He looked back into the funnel and twisted his feet on the concrete to try and gain himself some heavy traction against whatever was about to come for the three of them. "Get ready. Thete…?"

The Doctor strode closer to the funnel and prepared himself to rush in if necessary. "Yeah. Ready," he said as he stamped and scraped his feet to find tighter purchase on the concrete himself. "Come on, Rose," he breathed out through teeth grit hard in preparation on what was to come. "I'm right here. I'll catch you…"

The elder Braxiatel gave a nod toward his younger self, then closed his eyes and turned his head back toward the woman who waited under his hands. He curled a lip and lowered his chin to her, then grit his teeth as he forged a violent connection of minds. Rose clutched and clawed at his wrists and let out an almost immediate agonised cry of pain. She was not brought to her knees, instead she seemed to straighten up and even levitate off the ground until she was equal in height to him. Once level with him, her cries ceased and her eyes flashed open with a light of amber that rivalled the twisting and turning power that surrounded them.

At that moment, the chest of the man within the funnel contracted tightly and he was drawn backward into the wild winds of the tornado once more. Rose still hovered just off the ground as the calm centre of the funnel began to contract and fill with the howling regenerative souls of thousands of unlived incarnations. While she didn't cry out and yell, her shoulders pitched and her back arched as face after face ran upon and through her. Over and over again she was struck and howled at in a repeated and relentless attack until finally, her body could handle no more. Her feet touched the floor to put her into a leaned and almost despondent slouch to one side. Her hands shook at her side as they slowly curled into fists. Her head lifted slowly. Her eyes, and the power of the huon within them burned a hot amber, and with one last strike from an errant howling face, Rose's mouth dropped open and she released a long and powerful howl into the winds that rushed around her.

Her fists shifted to straighten into flatten palms and she turned them at her hip to hold her palms outward toward the three people who waited for her on the other side of the wall. Her eyes were clearly unfocused, but they did seem to lock on the man in the orange space suit. With a deep inhale that pulled her chest almost completely upward, Rose let out a long and strangled cry that carried with it an horrific shockwave of power that blew outward from her chest to flatten everything in its path.

Braxiatel fought hard against the shockwave, and leaned forward against it to remain on his feet like one would against a large towering wave of water at the beach. He forced a stride forward, and then another, and although he wasn't able to move forward even an inch, he did manage to stay on his feet. He finally lost his footing as a secondary wave of glistening golden amber slammed hard into his chest with enough force to lift him off the ground completely and throw him back at least twenty feet in the air. His own eyes flashed golden for a brief moment and a puff of glistening and golden air exploded from between his lips as he finally struck ground and rolled across the floor to finally end up with his back up against a large chunk of fallen concrete.

The Doctor's own focus held him firmly in place against the blast of the shockwave. He felt the sudden and tight grip of his former companion around his waist as she struggled not to be thrown. He held at Leela's hands to hold her firm and in safety and leaned forward to give her shelter against the winds.

The blast itself was violent and powerful, but it was short lived and over quickly. He looked up toward the small rounded platform that had held the tornado in place and saw Rose still hovering at least three feet off the ground. In the air she swayed slowly at the neck and shoulders, and very quickly it was clear that whatever force was holding her off the ground was dissipating quickly.

The Doctor shoved Leela's arms off his waist and rushed forward. He stumbled over a chunk of concrete, but caught himself well enough that he was able to skid along the platform in a feet first base-stealing slide to put himself underneath her as she finally fell to the ground.

Rose collided hard with his legs and chest with clear grunt and whimper. She let herself lay against his heaving orange chest for a moment to catch her own breath until she was finally able to speak out two syllables in question.

"Doctor?"

"I've got you," he panted out. He finally let his helmeted head drop backward to exhale in relief. "I've always got you."

Rose lifted her chin up off his chest and looked into his face with a wince of apology. She then looked toward Leela, who has staggering her own steps, supported by the gentle nudges of the two wolves who seemed to be the only ones who seemed unaffected by this. Her eyes then shifted toward her brother in law and she let out a gasp.

He was on his hands and knees, his face down toward the ground. His chest contracted with loud retches until finally he shoved himself up to rise to his knees. He swayed in place and looked to her with eyes as brightly lit as the tornado had been.

Rose called to him with panic and urgency and scrambled to get up from the Doctor's chest and his protective hold.

"Stay back," Braxiatel demanded with a thrust of his glowing hand toward her. "I'm not safe… Not right now."

"What's wrong?" Rose asked the Doctor with panic. "What's happening to him?"

"I think," he answered with upset on his features. "I think he's regenerating. But how…?"

~~oooOOOooo~~