They managed to hurriedly cram through the door as it opened, the Curator making sure everyone was inside his home before slamming it shut and locking it securely. There was no knowing how long they would be on this journey or even if they would ever come back; it was safer to make sure that no one would be able to get in during his absence. Some of the things he kept in his house...he shuddered slightly at the thought of them falling into the wrong pair of hands. It had been a difficult journey from the UNIT base, understandably being a target of the Dromulus as soon as they came into their view. They were all out of breath from the running, Wilf bent over with his hands on his knees as he panted heavily. Clara rubbed and patted him on the back in a comforting manner. She always forgot how most people weren't used to the amount of running she ended up doing with the Doctor. The smile on her face faded at the thought of him. There was no time to dwell on his selfless act of betrayal. If she spent too long pitying herself and wallowing in grief, they wouldn't get there in time. She looked back down at the old man as everyone else filed through the corridor under the careful eye of the Curator.
"Are you okay?" she asked quietly. "You know, there's still the option there for you not to come with us. If it's going to be too much for you." She hated being so blunt but she couldn't risk him holding them up when they got to Gallifrey. There would likely be a lot more running and fleeing in the not so distant future. He waved away her concerns with a tired hand.
"Don't be daft! I'm happy that you're looking out for me but you've got other things to worry about, darling." She smiled at his stubbornness.
"Only if you're sure. And there's no chance of me stopping fretting." She helped him stand up straight as they moved in the same direction as the others.
"You remind me of my granddaughter, Donna. You've got that similar spark in you, that willingness to never give up. You also never take no for an answer." Clara let out a soft chuckle as they walked down a flight of steps. They were being led down to a basement it seemed. "It's why you're still fighting now. No wonder the Doctor has an eye for you."
"Where is she now?"
"She's been travelling with her new husband. I think it was Mexico the last time she called us. God knows what she must be thinking right now." His voice became distant as his mind drifted to thoughts of her, Clara looking at him worriedly.
"She'll be okay, don't worry."
"Yeah. She always is even if she moans about stuff most of the time. She only went there because of the Doctor. You see, he gave her a scratch card as a wedding gift. She thought it was a rather cheeky present. She wasn't thinking that when the numbers came through and she got the jackpot. Even after what he had to do to her, she still had that instinct for adventure, which is why she went off exploring." Clara had a sad expression on her face. That was what the Doctor did, always looking out for his companions even when they had stopped travelling with him. It explained his actions now, taking that principle to the extreme. It was their turn to return the favour this time.
Pol Kon Don had been the reason why they were able to get to the house. She'd joined up with the remainder of her Judoon force, taking with her the two time weapons too so that they could more effectively battle the monsters that were taking over London. Clara had to stop herself from thinking about the possibility of the Dromulus being in other parts of the country or even across the globe, such a dreadful proposition. This had to work. They were Earth's final defenders. With the Judoon and the UNIT contingent drawing the majority of the attention of the creatures, a path had been made for them although they'd still thought it necessary to run as fast as they possibly could.
Clara and Wilf joined up with the rest of their group at the bottom of the steps just as the Curator entered a code in the wall, a great big metal door slowly sliding open as he did so. Old musty air and dust leaked out from the room that was now exposed. They wondered how long it had been closed off from the world and why the Curator had been forced to take such drastic action. They all managed to fit inside despite how large a group they were and that's when Clara saw it. The Tardis. It was smaller than the one she had travelled in, a different shade of blue and the marks and tears of time were clearly visible on the tired wood. But it was still definitely the Tardis. She had just seen better days, that was all. The Curator patted his jacket, fumbling for the key.
"I know I keep it on me just in case. It's been so long that...I've forgotten exactly what pocket I used." He carried on rummaging, fear spreading that their plans were going to be foiled by his own carelessness. "Ah, here we go!" He brandished the small metal object before opening the doors. They creaked louder than usual. Clara was the last one to enter, placing a hand on a wooden panel. At her touch, it seemed to thrum in life, almost as if it were recognising her. Maybe they got on better in the future. She fought back a smile of having a future with the Doctor.
"Hello, old girl," she whispered. "You have no idea how good it is to see you." The console room was shrouded in darkness as they stumbled in, the Curator flicking a number of switches before finding the right one, the room suddenly becoming brighter. Much to the complaint of their eyes. It was silver and white, quite a bit smaller than the console rooms the Doctor had recently had. Yellow circles adorned the wall, the round things that the Doctor always loved so much. The console itself was a similar colour to the rest of the interior but the column at the centre was a vibrant red. Clara thought that it was absolutely gorgeous. It was a good job that the time machine was bigger on the inside otherwise they probably wouldn't have all fit. It was still awkward for everyone to be bunched around the walls.
"Why was she locked away?" Amy asked curiously. The Curator gave her a tired look.
"My days of adventure are pretty much at an end. There's no way that I would get rid of her but I can't leave her in the main bit of the house just in case. It was the safer option. And locking here away reminded me not to give into my temptation to go flying off." He patted the console affectionately, his hands finding the buttons he needed with the traces of memory. He'd never forget how to fly her. "Sadly, there wasn't anyone who I could give her to. Not yet anyway." He glanced at Jenny quickly without her picking up on the action.
"Is she going to be able to get through the rift?" River wondered, her voice telling them that she didn't expect it to be a simple task. "She's seen better days."
"Hush now! Don't let her hear you say that! You don't see me saying the same thing to you when I really could." She gasped as he looked her up and down.
"You should know not to insult the Tardis by now in front of him," Clara said.
"Exactly. No wonder I always preferred you!" Clara blushed and hit his arm away softly. He always was a flirt at heart.
"This is great and all," Graham spoke up. "And I'm really happy that we can do this together but...what are we actually doing? I know I'm not the only one who's confused about the plan than we get to...Gall...Gulla...whatever planet he's from."
"We think on the spot," Clara replied as if it were simple. "We're being like the Doctor. That's usually at least eighty percent being lucky at the right times."
"Is that what he tells you?" the Curator responded, biting on his finger. "Don't underestimate him so much. You should know that the Doctor always has a plan." The rotor began moving up and down as he gleefully pulled down the lever, the Tardis taking a second longer than usual to properly get going. It was still the same noise though, the one that filled them all with hope. When Clara glanced at him, trying to not to be distracted by his customary theatrics, he winked and placed the Nebulous weapon down on the console. Her eyes widened and those who had been in Russia slowly approached it.
"Why the hell have you brought that in here with us?" Jack urgently asked. "Do you want us to implode whilst flying through the time vortex?"
"Do you have no faith in me? Come on...you know what it does." They nodded despite still being unsure as to where he was going with this. "And, Miss Oswald, you have a vague understanding of what is causing the rift to stay open."
"I guess so...it was coming from the...oh, you clever man."
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Golden sand stretched out for miles, forming mighty hills that joined to create an imposing valley. In the centre of the valley, or, as more people saw it, the centre of the planet, the glistening Citadel stood tall and proud. Its beauty and magnificence was unrivalled, the epitome of the glorious work Time Lords were capable of. The two suns reflected off the metal dome, casting a bright light over the patches of red gress that somehow survived in the vast plains of nothingness. Not much could detract from the building's might and prominence. But the beam of wild golden energy pouring from the tip of the Citadel dwarfed it in size, picking up a crazed wind as it connected with the rift. The two were connected. The tear in time and the home of the people who were meant to stop such an event from happening. The irony was lost on no one. Most people inside saw it as a good thing, the next step in their evolution. Physically controlling time, not just manipulating it like they had previously done. Those less fortunate, who occupied small wooden huts in the distance, looked upon the monstrosity as exactly that; the work of a mad man that had doomed them all.
Three blue boxes appeared next to one another, whipping up parts of the sand as they became more real. The time machines of legend. Everyone on the planet knew what this box meant and what it symbolised. Some saw it as hope, others saw it as destruction. Some, the more wise, saw it as both. The ultimate paradox and yet one not at all. Some people claimed to have seen it when they hadn't. Others had actually seen it but no one in their right mind would believe them. No one would ever dare say that they had seen three at once because that was impossible. That would signal the final days of the planet and the universe itself. But now three stood side by side, different and so very alike. The three men who exited their ships had no hope left inside their souls, just the idea of destruction etched into their brains.
They all had similar expressions on their faces - a grimace at the sight before them. It confirmed their worst thoughts and how this event was definitely being caused by someone in the Citadel. They had a vague idea of who that person would be. For the Tenth and Eleventh Doctors, it took them a moment longer to take in the image. They could vividly remember it from the days of the Time War, the target of so many attacks. It had stood strong, suffering a lot of damage but never falling. Clinging on until the Doctor had acted and saved them all. They couldn't believe that it was still there. They'd lived for so long with the heavy heart of what they'd done, thinking they'd killed them all. They wanted to be joyous. They wanted to scream out in euphoria and anguish. They wanted to give into their primal instincts that they kept so well hidden. But...they didn't. They stood in silence, taking in the view for what they felt would be the last time. They'd landed further away to be able to do just that, to make themselves look upon what they intended to turn to ash and rubble. It also gave them a better chance of going undetected. The longer that remained the case, the better. Tenth looked at Eleven and Twelve.
"So...this is where it ends up. I expected it to be a little more worn around the edges."
"It was when I first came through the rift," Twelve commented. None of them were thinking about moving any closer. "It must be a side effect of the time flux in progress here. Distorting Gallifrey's time just as much as Earth's. Rebuilding the Citadel to what it once was."
"A happy accident?" Eleven wondered.
"Time Lords never do accidents."
"Well, we normally do." Twelve rolled his eyes.
"We've never been normal Time Lords. And look where that got us. Standing here about to do something I thought I'd managed to run from. You see, you two are still of the mindset that we did what we did to end the war. I've had the relief and hope of seeing that reversed. And now it's being taken away." Ten looked sadly at his older self. His grey curls were gently blowing in the breeze, either natural or caused by the bright beam of energy.
"There's no other way. If this were the Daleks or the Cybermen or...someone else...would we really be questioning our actions so much?"
"Because, if you haven't noticed, we're not Daleks or Cybermen or someone else. We're Time Lords. We've tried our best to deny it at times but we can't. It's who we are. And that means us having the faint belief that they could be and do better. We've lost that expectation with everyone else but it's always the most difficult to let it go with your own people." Another moment passed of contemplative silence, taking in his depressing words. Had they been blind? Believing that they could change an entire race through good will alone? It wasn't about changing a race. It was about making the rulers and the people with the most power see sense and that had always been their greatest challenge.
"Then how are we doing this?" Eleven asked. "I've got a few ideas running through my head but they're so unbelievably catastrophic that I hate myself even entertaining their notion." Twelve glanced at him solemnly.
"Where we stand is where we fall. We stand here on this day. Just us. If we have to fall, we make the most of it. We have to make sure that this works."
"Destroying a planet isn't going to be easy though," Ten pointed out. "We don't have time to try and sneak into the vaults and see what weapons they have left. We've probably already used them all at some point."
"The Tardises." They looked at him with wide eyes, instantly knowing what he was alluding to. "They're manipulating the broken Tardises that are buried underneath the surface. To bring out their power source, making it possible to create the rift, they had to, in a sense, switch them back on."
"Which means that they're back on the network!"
"Exactly. If we can connect our Tardises to the same network, which should be fairly easy as it's their base setting, we could send a code to every ship, making them go critical."
"Gallifrey goes boom." Twelve had forgotten about Eleven's tendency to simplify things. He would have gotten annoyed at anyone else doing it but, for once, he had greater things to deal with. They were going to start walking to the Citadel when a shimmer of white light appeared in front of them. Rassilon, a smug grin on his face, stepped out from the teleportation field. He was flanked on either side by the Master and Missy, a squadron of soldiers standing behind them with their weapons raised. Enough to shoot each Doctor in both hearts at least twice. They didn't want to be taking any chances today.
"A very succinct and clever plan," the Lord President praised them mockingly. "I must say that I acknowledge your...prowess...when it comes to things like this. It is just a shame that you have to use them in such a poorly judged manner." He noticed their matching stunned expressions. "What? Did you not expect us to be monitoring the rift closely in case you tried to do something like this? We've had to deal with you in the past and we've learned from the mistakes we made. How big a fool do you take me as?" They chose to not answer that question, knowing it would just rile him up more.
"You can stop this, you know," Ten said strongly, anger burning in his eyes. "Make the decision that saves millions of lives. Think of how much respect you would earn from such a noble act." Rassilon laughed, a raspy and unpleasant sound.
"Noble? You think it noble to let our planet rot outside the universe? You dare claim to have nobility when you threaten to destroy your home world?"
"I never said that I was noble," Twelve said icily. "Which is why I'm willing to do this."
"The thing is...you say that I should stop this from happening. Or what? I suffer the consequences? How droll. You're forgetting that I have you surrounded at the moment. There's no way you're getting to your Tardises this time without being shot in the back. A so called 'war hero' would die of shame before suffering that fate. You'll come with us and watch as Gallifrey is reborn."
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Sparks flew out from the Tardis console, those closest to it wincing and shielding themselves from getting hurt. The room was spinning wildly, the circles on the walls blurring around them until they became streaks of vibrant colour. Clara was worried that the console was going to overheat, quickly removing her hand when she felt how hot it was. Lights were blaring, all signs that they shouldn't be doing this. Everyone was doing their best to hold onto something but there was very little in the bland and simplistic room to utilise, especially compared to the Tardises they had previously flown in. The Curator had a look of pure concentration on his face, gesturing to the three Time Lords who stood opposite to him. Without using any words, he moved his one free arm about to tell them to hold onto the levers he had assigned to them, the General wincing through the effort and the effects it was having on his damaged arm. He really hadn't expected to be doing this so late into his life and he was growing even more annoyed as Ko Sharmus chuckled crazily.
"What are you laughing about?" he barked angrily, seeing now as the worst time to be doing it.
"Oh, come on! You love this really! We haven't had this sort of an adventure for years! A chance like this isn't going to come again!" He eyed Cassandra, who had a small smile on her face despite her brow being crossed in a firm line. "And look at her! She's trying to hide it but she's enjoying it just as much as I am!" He laughed again as he saw her try and frown at him.
"No comment," she replied as she hung on but a smile flickered again, confirming his suspicions. Graham stumbled over to where the Curator stood, holding onto his shoulder, causing the other man to look at his hand in annoyance.
"Do you actually know how to fly this thing?" he shouted. The Time Lord was highly insulted by the question.
"Of course I do. I've been flying her for centuries!"
"Well, I only ask because the first time I saw you in this thing, it was when you crashed into my bus! I don't like to go on about it but that shows me you're not as in control as you claim to be."
"I can only apologise for the recklessness and bravado of my previous self. Let me reassure you that that trait does not stay with me." The Tardis shook again, somehow with even more force this time. "Oh, wait. I lied." A deep, booming laugh erupted from his mouth, almost scaring Graham. "The issue is that we're trying to fly through the remnants of a time column. It would have already been weak as it is but, combined with the effects of the rift itself, it's wanting to collapse in on itself, with us inside! Attempting to travel through a fissure of this side is enough of a risk on its own."
"But you're going to get us out in time, right? Because that doesn't sound too pleasant a thing to go through."
"I'm trying but your yapping is distracting me quite a bit." It was then that Clara managed to haul herself next to the two bickering men, looking urgently at the pilot of the crashing ship.
"I'm starting to think that this was a bad idea," she admitted.
"Too late to go back now, my dear. Where's that sense of bravery you had a moment ago?"
"Probably swirling around in my stomach like everything else seems to be." The Tardis gave another lurch as if to clarify her point. She peered at the instruments in her eye line. "We need to send the Doctor a message. To tell him to just pause what he's doing. There's no knowing what he's done so far but I think he'd appreciate a heads up. Especially if we're about to crash into him."
"How do you reckon we do that?" Graham wondered. "Can we text? Do we get a signal in this...what did you call it? Time column fishing?"
"A time column and a fissure. Two different things," the Curator clarified. "No mobile signals obviously but that doesn't matter. We can use the Tardis' psychic networks to reach out to him. Metaphorically, of course." Clara looked at him curiously.
"How does that work?"
"People have sent me messages before through space and time without even the help of this wonderful ship. You're doubly lucky as you have a much stronger connection to him. I'm sure you can figure out what device is capable of receiving such an important message. But you don't have a lot of time. Keep it short and sweet." Her eyes lit up in recognition. "I'm just hoping that I have the infernal thing on me."
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The Doctors were about to be led away by their unwanted escort when the rift flared brighter than before. Rassilon staggered backwards as he stared up at the morphing chasm before turning his ire back onto their captives.
"What is the meaning of this?" he barked, some spittle flying out from his mouth. "What have you done to it." They were just as puzzled as the rest of them, Eleven shrugging his shoulders as he moved away from the guard that was meant to be keeping him in check.
"Trust me, this isn't us. I have no idea what is causing this but I don't expect it to be anything good."
"You expect me to trust you? Utter nonsense." His tirade was cut short as the rift groaned loudly before a familiar blue box careened out from it, spinning and turning out of control as it shot out. It was heading in their direction, thankfully soaring over their heads from quite a distance instead of plummeting right on top of them. They watched it fly away in the direction of the Citadel. "Another one? How is that possible?"
"I don't know. I hate not knowing. It's been happening far too much for my liking," Ten murmured, rocking on his heels as he got lost in thought.
"I think you know a lot more than you're letting on and you're going to tell me about your plans before I decide to kill you right here." The Twelfth Doctor felt a sudden burning feeling coming from his jacket, his hand reaching down to one of the pockets. His fingers wrapped around the object that was the cause of the strange discomfort, pulling it for him to see. His psychic paper. He opened it quickly so that the President couldn't see and was surprised at the simple message written. Nebulous. Putting it back away, he looked back up at the Tardis as he tried to figure out what it meant. He knew that it made perfect sense. He knew who would be in the spiralling time machine. As if he'd actually thought he could stop her. He should have been angry, mad and annoyed but he couldn't stop the smile that grew on his face. Nebulous. His mind drifted to the device, to what Ten had told them it did. They were heading for the Citadel for a reason. They couldn't think that it would work. But...if they got to the machine that was causing it, which he presumed would be connected to the very foundations of the building...it might just be mad enough to do it. He controlled his facial expression, not wanting the Time Lords to know that he was happy about something, even if he would have enjoyed annoying them.
"I think you should be very worried about what that Tardis is doing. Or, more precisely, what those inside are about to do." He gave his opponent a calculating glare. "If I were you, I'd be taking us to the Citadel as fast as possible otherwise you have no hope of winning this." Rassilon paused, trying to figure out whether it was a trap.
"Do as he says. Send a message to the men in there already. If there is anyone in that infernal ship, I want them shot on sight! Do you understand?" A young soldier nodded his head nervously before running away to do as he'd been told. The Doctors were shoved in the back as they were forced to get closer to the group so that they could teleport with them. Twelve grasped Missy's arm tightly as he came close to her, whispering in her ear.
"Do what is right for once." She couldn't meet his eye, which he hoped was a good sign.
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"I'd advise everyone to hold on!" the Curator shouted as he took one last look at the monitor that was making it abundantly clear what was about to happen. They all braced for impact as the Tardis hurtled towards the Citadel, smashing through the glass dome and into the side of one of the towers. The two heavy impacts managed to lower its momentum, eventually coming to a halt in an empty corridor. Smoke billowed out from the console as everyone lay on the ground from the crash, groaning painfully. The youngest ones there were able to help the oldest up, Yaz assisting Graham and Clara supporting Wilf. The General wasn't willing to accept Cassandra's proffered hand but, as he winced when another throb of pain shot through his arm, he didn't have a choice. After they slowly recovered from the less than perfect flight, they became preoccupied with the fumes leaking out and they made sure to get out before they realised it was detrimental to their health. They admired the destruction they'd accidentally caused, feeling the strong breeze that was coming from the gaping hole in front of them. "Well, I've definitely had worse landings." He wiped down his blazer with a look of disgust before patting the Tardis door affectionately. They all looked at him incredulously.
"Only you would have the audacity of calling that a landing, dad," Jenny commented, even with a smile on her face. It was all so dangerous and exhilarating, just as she had imagined.
"We can't get picky now. I was told to get us here and I did. It's only your fault that you didn't expect to get some bruises along the way.
"I'm guessing that our impromptu entrance won't go unnoticed," Jack pointed out. "And we're a rather large group. I'd be expecting trouble in no more than a couple of minutes. What's the plan?" They all looked at Clara, putting her on the spot. She wasn't yet used to being the leader.
"Right...um...we need to split up. We need to get everyone out of the building. If we start at the lower levels where I'm presuming the lesser ranked people are, they're probably going to be more willing to listen. But, if you need to threaten them, I'm sure you'll be able to think of something."
"And what are you planning on doing?" River asked her with an arched eyebrow.
"Doing the dirty work. I need to find where the machine is and...I guess, blow it up. I'll try and give you enough time to get out in time."
"We'll come with you," the General said, brokering no argument but she was always going to try.
"No. It's too dangerous."
"Which is exactly why you need an escort," Ko Sharmus argued. "Especially one made of people who know their way around this place. Tell me, where do you think the machine is?" She tried to answer but realised she had none.
"Fair point," she grumbled.
"And I've shown that I can get into the computer systems, which will be useful in getting past security," Cassandra added. Clara nodded her head, glancing at the Curator.
"What will you do?"
"We all need a way out. I'll stay here and fix her up as fast as possible. If you can't get back here in time, just make sure you can escape the premises."
"I'll stay with you," Sarah Jane said. "You always could do with some help. I'm sure that'll make it easier."
"Excellent! Just like the old days." He handed Clara the Nebulous device, placing it in her hands as he rested his over it. "Be very careful. I would never forgive myself if you were to come to any harm. And you know which I I'm talking about. Good luck, dear." She smiled gratefully as they all ran off in different directions.
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The Master grumbled under his breath, his white hair all messed up and out of place. It was taking longer for the process to finalise than he had first expected, which was why he was so annoyed. He had to have patience though. Restoring a planet's place in the universe wasn't supposed to be an easy job, even for a man with his considerable talents. He flexed his fingers as he looked over a few computers in quick succession, occasionally glancing up at the beam of energy that was still flowing up into the roof above him. It was a marvel to look at, probably the most beautiful thing he had seen over the course of his many years of existence. How something so pure as raw time energy was making his wishes come true, as if it was meant to happen. The universe wanted this! It needed this! Everyone did. Once Gallifrey was returned, he would be seen as its ruler having made it all possible. Then nothing and no one would be able to stop him in his plans. He could wipe out every creature in the cosmos that ever opposed him.
He looked up in alarm as multiple red lights started flashing around the walls, making him move about quickly to see what it was. Messages were running across the screens and he scowled at what he saw. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was meant to be able to focus on making sure the machine worked. His other incarnations and that useless President were meant to deal with any outside issues. Surely they could deal with who he expected was behind this. He was disappointed with the Doctor since he wanted him to see what good this would do. Having a race to look over and monitor issues across the entirety of the universe would benefit everyone (apart from those who were doing wrong). He was being a hypocrite by trying to prevent them when he attempted to do the same thing on a regular basis.
"They think that they can stop me?" he laughed. "Maybe it's time that I throw caution to the wind and speed up this process. It'll be too late by the time they get here." Before he started flicking more switches to do that, he picked up a small weapon. "And, if they do get here, who's to say that I can't have a little fun with them?"