Chapter 13 - Terminus

Adric watched the TARDIS scanner screen intently, focussing in on the scene playing out in the control room. He looked on in horror as the armed acolytes of the Order flooded into the room, weapons bristling, his friends on the dais standing helplessly, without hope of escape.

"No!" he shouted, thumping the console in frustration. He had to do something to help them, but if he couldn't think of any way to come to their aid before, what could he do now, when there were twice as many enemies to deal with?

"I must do something," he muttered determinedly, turning away from the scanner to place his hand on the door control. As he did so, a crumpled object in the corner of the room caught his eye. There, where he had discarded it earlier, was the white robe his captors had dressed him in, when they had used him as a pawn in their quest for power.

Adric smiled as an idea began to form in his mind.


"This is pointless," Suren complained. The medic leant on the Prime Consul's desk, staring at the Proctor with a concerned look in his eye. Morovan was slumped in the chair, the blood loss from his blaster wound causing him to grow weaker by the minute. "We're not going to find this mythical hidden transmat, and certainly not before you go into hypovolemic shock. You need to get to the Infirmary before it's too late."

Morovan shook his head, his pale face shining with sweat. "No! It's got to be here somewhere. If not the desk then–" he cast his eye around the walls of the Consular Chamber, "What about the walls? Maybe a hidden exit?"

Suren sighed, and shook his head. "It's your funeral," he said, as he moved to the nearest wall and methodically began to check it.

Morovan watched him for a moment, then heaved himself upright once more, reaching down into one of the desk's open drawers. "Not if I can help it," he muttered, pulling out a small blaster and concealing it in his tunic.


"BROTHERS! TO ARMS!"

The Grey Father's shout echoed around the room, causing his startled acolytes to immediately leap into action. The crackle of laser fire filled the air as they grabbed their energy rifles and engaged the incoming mass of white-robed fighters. The cloned soldiers of the Order marched forward undeterred, spurred on by the bellowed exhortations of Procardinal Jonaris, until the two sides clashed, white and grey meeting in a torrent of violence, faction versus faction, Serenite against Serenite.

A laser blast sizzled above Tegan's head, causing her to scream and duck as it hit the wall behind her, exploding in a shower of sparks.

"Tegan! Get down!" The Doctor pulled her to the floor, crouching over her as stray energy bolts blazed overhead. He looked around, to find that their guards had deserted them, joining the battle at their Father's command. His attention was caught by a small figure, standing at the far side of the dais. The Seer stood alone, a curious half-smile emanating from behind his breath mask, seemingly unafraid of the danger surrounding him. The Doctor frowned, muttering under his breath: "I might have known… never happier than when at the eye of a storm of his own creation."

Tegan frantically pulled at his sleeve, distracting him from his preoccupation.

"We're sitting ducks!" she cried, trying to make herself heard over the noise - "We've got to get out of here!" The Doctor nodded, then pointed to the chamber that held Nyssa.

"Two birds - one stone," he replied, breathlessly, "the chamber will offer shelter, and we can try and free Nyssa at the same time!"

Tegan nodded. Keeping low, they carefully began to make their way towards where their friend was imprisoned.


Outside the facility, Highbishop Fenravic paced back and forth behind a squad of his soldiers, glancing nervously at the slowly-lightening sky above. A low mist hung in the early morning air, giving the abandoned industrial zone an unsettling, otherworldly feel. The world seemed quiet, as if holding its breath in anticipation of the dawn to come; only the occasional burst of birdsong pierced the silence as the surrounding wildlife woke to greet the new day… that, and the muffled sounds of the civil war raging within.

Fenravic stopped suddenly, ears pricking at a sound from nearby. He peered out into the mist, but couldn't see more that a few metres ahead. The acolytes around him shifted nervously, checking their weapons.

"Steady," the Highbishop's trembling voice belied the reassurance it was intended to convey. The soldier next to him suddenly raised his weapon, aiming at something unseen beyond the mist.

"Hold!" Fenravic's voice cut through the damp atmosphere; he squinted down the barrel of the acolyte's gun. The mist swirled, stirred by the breeze, parting momentarily to reveal indistinct, shadowy forms beyond. The cleric frowned. "Who's there? Reveal yourselves!"

The shapes moved forward through the fog, resolving themselves into recognisable forms as they came closer, until they emerged metres away from the small defensive squad. The citizens stepped forward, approaching the entrance to the facility.

Fenravic's high-pitched voice caused them to pause for a moment. "Halt! This is a restricted area, and you are in breach of curfew! Go - go back to your homes, by order of t-t-the Lady!" he stammered. The growing crowd of citizens rumbled uncertainly, until a tall, thick-set man stepped forward, a plump, red-haired woman his side.

"The Lady is gone!" shouted Von, "We all saw it, just as we saw who pushed her over the edge - someone dressed just like you!" He pointed at the Highbishop's white robes accusingly, and the crowd roared behind him.

Rosa stepped forward. "Why are you here, now?" she demanded. "You're hiding something, Bishop, and the people of Serenity have the right to know the truth! Now stand aside and let us pass!"

The growing mass of people behind them erupted in agreement; Fenravic blanched as he looked out over a sea of angry faces and waving fists. "You may not enter!" he repeated, his voice edged with panic, "This is a holy decree!"

"Well, stuff that," said Von, and they started forward, the crowd advancing at their backs.


"NO!"

Nyssa thumped the curved wall of her cell in frustration, tears welling in her eyes. Her attempts to sabotage the wiring at the foot of the chamber had come to nothing - every circuit she had managed to trace seemed to end in a redundant system, leaving her back where she had started - hopelessly trapped and at the mercy of her captors, an unwilling cog in a vast machine of unknown purpose. It was almost as if… she shook her head, realising too late: "As if someone had put this here just to keep me occupied," she muttered, bitterly. She sat back, defeated, and looked up through the curve of the glass tube surrounding her.

A sudden flash caused her to gasp. She leapt to her feet, to see to her horror that the situation outside her chamber had gone to hell in the few minutes she had been distracted. A silent scene of violent chaos played out before her, as white-robed members of the Order clashed with her grey-clad captors, the flashes from their energy rifles illuminating the spectacle like some form of hellish lightening.

As she was taking in the scene, her attention was caught by a sudden movement in her peripheral vision. She turned to see Tegan and the Doctor crouched outside the door to the chamber, silently tapping the glass in an effort to get her attention. Nyssa sighed in relief to see her friends safe from harm, then moved over to the door, putting her hands against the cool perspex.

"Doctor! Tegan!" she cried, "You have to get away from here! Please - it's too dangerous!"

Tegan frowned, shaking her head and mouthing something questioningly; Nyssa looked to the Doctor, who shook his head gravely and pointed to the door's locking mechanism, before frantically starting to fiddle with the controls. Nyssa gasped at the realisation that he may have understood what she was saying, and started to hammer against the glass once more.

"Doctor! I have to tell you something! Doctor, please!"

Tegan looked at Nyssa, then nudged the Time Lord to get his attention. The Doctor looked at her questioningly, then Tegan pointed to Nyssa. They both ducked as a stray energy bolt exploded somewhere above them, covering them in a shower of sparks, before the Doctor looked back at Trakenite, raising his eyebrows. Nyssa took a deep breath. This was her only chance - she had to get through to him.

"Doctor," she mouthed slowly, "The Seer - you need to understand! It's not–"


Tegan's gaze flitted between Nyssa and the Doctor as the Trakenite shouted earnestly through the thick perspex.

"Rabbits!" she cursed, "I'm useless at lip reading! Do you know what she's saying?" Nyssa appeared to have finished; Tegan turned to the Doctor, who seemed to have turned several shades paler. "Doctor? What is it?" she asked, concerned.

The Doctor turned to look at the small, aged figure of the Seer, still standing unafraid as the battle raged before him. He turned back to Tegan, a haunting look of horror in his eyes.

"Oh dear," he said, with a tone that Tegan had seldom heard him use before, and then only in the direst of circumstances. "I think I may have gravely underestimated the situation."


Brother Byrnus ran to the Grey Father's side, breathless and sweating profusely. "Father!" he panted, removing his glasses to clear them, "We're hopelessly outnumbered! We have to surrender, before they kill us all!"

The elder man turned to his colleague, an incongruous smile just visible beneath his cowl. "Don't worry, Brother. All will be well. Remember, it is always darkest before the dawn."

Byrnus looked at him in panicked confusion. "But the Brothers, Father - they will be wiped out, and the knowledge will be lost forever!"

"Knowledge?" the Grey Father echoed, a chuckle escaping him, "That doesn't matter now. All that matters is foreknowledge." He nodded toward where the Seer stood. "The future our aged friend has promised."

"What?" Byrnus spluttered, "Father - how can you say such things? Our knowledge… our knowledge is everything! Without it, our cause is lost!"

The Grey Father turned his face towards Byrnus, his shadowed smile sending a chill down the younger man's spine. "My dear boy, it was lost a long, long time ago. You just didn't know it."

Byrnus backed away from his mentor, shaking his head in disbelief as the sudden and callous disregard for the lives of his brothers filtered through his reeling consciousness. "I… I don't…" he stammered, "Father, how could you?" He turned away, gasping in shock as he found a white-robed soldier blocking his path. The soldier raised his weapon; Byrnus staggered as the butt of the rifle connected violently with his temple. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious, his glasses shattering as his head hit the ground with a dull thud. The Order soldier looked up from the ragged heap of grey cloth at his feet, and silently retrained his weapon on the Grey Father, who raised his hands with a smile.


"What on Earth are you talking about?" exclaimed Tegan. She looked at the Time Lord in confusion, but his gaze was still resolutely fixed on the small figure across the dais.

"I was wrong," he muttered, "if they activate this machinery it won't be a disaster... it'll be cataclysmic! The energies involved are exponentially greater than I thought, and vastly more unpredictable... a single error in the programming, a wire out of place and the resultant explosion could tear apart the very fabric of the universe!"

Tegan paled, looking around the smoke-filled, battle-scarred room. "And given that there's a full-on battle raging around all this equipment..."

"Exactly," said the Doctor. "We have to stop this, before it's too late!"

Tegan looked over his shoulder, distracted by something beyond. "Er, Doctor?" The Doctor heard a sudden fear in her voice; he turned to look at her, his youthful face concerned. Tegan nodded silently, indicating behind him.

"I think it may already be too late," she said dejectedly, slowly raising her hands. The Doctor whirled round to find a dozen white-robed soldiers facing him, their energy rifles trained on his hearts.


"Well that's it, I've tried everywhere." Suren threw his hands in the air, turning back towards Morovan in exasperation. "If there is a transmat in here, I can't find it. We're out of options."

The Proctor pulled himself up out of the Prime Consul's chair with a groan of effort, his face pale and waxen. He staggered over to the medic, cradling his useless arm with the other. "It has to be here!" he growled, "There's no other explanation!"

"I've tried everything!" Suren protested, "Every moulding, every tapestry! There's nothing here! Now I'm taking you to the Infirmary whether you like it or not!" He reached out to grab the Proctor's arm.

"No!" Morovan cried, pushing the medic away. The motion caused Morovan to stagger, and he reached out to steady himself against the wall. His hand hit a featureless wooden panel, a gap between one ancient tapestry and the next, but to the Proctor's surprise his fingers passed right through it, causing him to cry out as he overbalanced and fell against the wall heavily.

Suren moved quickly to his side, pulling him to his feet. "What the…?" he gasped, pushing his fingers against the seemingly solid area of wood. They passed straight through, disappearing into the unknown area behind. He pulled his hand back sharply, checking his fingers to make sure they were intact.

Morovan laughed dryly, "I should have guessed," he said, "an atmosphere lock." He reached inside, wincing as his shoulder flared in pain at the movement. Fumbling around for a moment, he smiled as a dull click emanated from within. The entire panel silently shifted to the left a few inches, leaving a dark, narrow opening in its wake. The air released from the space beyond smelled stale and uninviting, as if it had been sealed inside, seldom disturbed, for centuries. The two men looked at each other, the Proctor's face breaking into a grin.

"Now we're in business," he said, and began to squeeze his way through the gap.


Acrid-smelling smoke drifted lazily through the air of the Source Lab control room. The battle was over; the Grey Brothers had been hopelessly overwhelmed by the weight of numbers and the cold-blooded resolve of the Order's cloned soldiers. The surviving grey-cloaked acolytes were rounded up by the Order and marched to the dais at gunpoint. There they joined the Doctor, Tegan, the Grey Father and the Seer, still smiling serenely behind his breath-mask, as Nyssa watched on, helplessly trapped in her cylindrical chamber.

After a moment the Order soldiers surrounding the small group parted to accommodate the substantial frame of Procardinal Jonaris, his silken robes spotless as he swished past his bloodstained soldiers, a triumphant smile animating his heavy jowls.

"Well," he sneered, looking at the captives standing before him, "what have we here?" He turned to the Doctor. "I might have known you would be here, Herald. Surrounded by death and destruction, as usual, I see." Jonaris raised his arm, to indicate the body-strewn lab beyond.

"This was nothing to do with me, Procardinal, as well you know!" the Doctor retorted, "Whatever petty factions pervade your dysfunctional society are none of my concern! What is my concern is that this whole system needs to be powered down immediately, before Serenity ends up like the rest of the Traken Union!"

"All in good time, Herald," Jonaris replied dismissively, "First, we have the small matter of an insurrection to deal with." He moved to where the Grey Father and his aged companion stood. "An assault on the sanctified establishments of Serenity. An attack against the authority of the Order, and against the Lady herself!" The Procardinal's voice rose accusingly, as he peered into the dark recesses of the Grey Father's cowl.

"None of that matters right now!" the Doctor protested. "If this machinery is set in motion–"

"I WILL HAVE SILENCE!" the cleric bellowed, then motioned to his guards. They immediately restrained the Doctor, their weapons pointed directly at his head. The Time Lord gritted his teeth in frustration, but remained silent. Jonaris turned back to the Grey Father, raising his eyebrows in expectation. "Well? What have you to say for yourself, apostate?"

"'The Lady'," the hooded cleric laughed bitterly. "The Lady is unharmed, no thanks to you, and your so-called 'authority' is built upon lies and deceit, a carefully-fashioned cage to keep the people in line."

"Blasphemy!" shrieked Jonaris, his face reddening. "How dare you–"

"I dare," the Father interrupted, "because I am sick of the games we play, in the name of 'keeping the peace'! I am sick of the power ceded to those who have proved themselves, time and time again, unworthy! I am sick of the deference afforded to a faith that serves only greed and self-interest!" He stepped forward, his shadowed face inches away from the Procardinal's. "I'm calling time on you, Procardinal - on you and your whole ungodly Order!"

The rotund cleric's face darkened with the oncoming storm of his rage. "You're calling time?! Who the hell do you think you are? You have no authority here, heretic!"

"I have EVERY authority!" the Grey Father yelled, before pulling his hood back to reveal his face.

The face of Prime Consul Varden.


"Keep back! Back, I say!" Highbishop Fenravick called impotently from the shelter of the facility's entrance. His words had no effect on the advancing citizens, who kept on moving purposefully forwards. "Halt, or we'll open fire! Th-this is your last warning!"

The crowd paid no heed, and continued to press forwards. Fenravick cried out as the acolyte next to him gave in to panic and discharged his weapon into the masse of citizens. The blast hit a man full in the chest, and he fell to the floor. The crowd roared in response, their pace quickening to a run as they closed the ground between them and the entrance. Flashes of laser fire illuminated the scene, but it was too late - in an instant the mob was upon the meagre defence, quickly overwhelming them. They streamed into the facility, the frontrunners holding aloft the weaponry they had just liberated from Fenravick's vanguard.


"Varden!" whispered Tegan, "So that's where he got to!"

"Well, it was rather obvious." The Doctor looked at her, puzzled. "Wasn't it obvious?"

"Shhhhhhh!" Tegan dug the Time Lord in the ribs to silence him as Jonaris opened his mouth to speak.

"You!" the Procardinal hissed, eyes narrowing at the sight of his long-time adversary. "What absurdity is this? The Prime Consul of Serenity, the leader of a band of terrorists? How the mighty have fallen!" He gave a derisive laugh, but his eyes remained wary. "You realise you've just signed your own death warrant, of course?"

The Prime Consul gave a wry smile, and consulted his wrist-device. "Better make it quick, Jonaris… your time is running out."

"My time? You really have taken leave of your senses. My time is just beginning! With the Prime Consul… shall we say… 'unfit for office', there is really only one person who can fill the power vacuum created, wouldn't you agree?"

Varden shook his head. "You have no comprehension of the burdens of office," he snarled, "You only want power for power's sake, to feather your overstuffed nest and boost your inflated ego! You have neither the stomach nor the wit for the commitment and sacrifice required… with you in charge, Serenity would burn, whilst you looked on from your gilded palace!"

"It is clear from your actions that any wit you possessed is long gone," retorted Jonaris. "It is also clear that this debate is futile - the choice has already been made." The cleric raised a fat finger, pointing it in the direction of the chamber imprisoning Nyssa. "You have insulted the faithful of Serenity and everything they hold dear by your abduction and imprisonment of our most exhalted Lady, and I, her anointed representative, have been brought here to carry out her will and to exact her retribution!" His voice raised in pitch as he motioned to his guards, who raised their weapons in unison, pointing them directly at Varden.

The Prime Consul paused for a moment, scanned the room behind the Procardinal's huge frame, then turned to Jonaris, his laughter echoing around the vast chamber. "How can you utter such hypocrisy with a straight face?! You profess to be an instrument of the divine, and yet you and I both know the truth - that your personal faith is as fake as the whole religion itself!"

The Procardinal's complexion darkened. "YOU WILL BE SILENT, BLASPHEMER!"

"I WILL NOT!" Varden bellowed, his voice imbued with authority. "This girl," he continued, flinging his arm towards where Nyssa was caged, "however miraculous her survival, is no more divine than you or I! You know the truth as well as I - the truth written in the annals that only the powerful few ever get to see! The truth of our entire grotesque existence is written there: the lies formed and myths created in the dark to keep a frightened, Keeper-less populace in line! The Lady, the Herald, the Boy - it's all just crowd control, forced upon us by our ancestors' senseless rejection of technology–"

"Be silent!" Jonaris cried, trembling with barely contained rage, "Or I will silence you permanently!"

"Technology," Varden carried on, ignoring the threat, "that you continue to suppress in spite of the suffering of our people, and why? Because to do otherwise would be to lose your stranglehold on power! YOU keep the people in need, Jonaris, because otherwise the people wouldn't need YOU!"

"AS DO YOU!" The cleric exploded, spittle flecking his cheeks as his anger took hold. "You seek to paint yourself as innocent in all this, but whatever games I may play you mastered long ago. You talk of hypocrisy? You belittle the beliefs I pay lip service to, but are happy to use them for your own tyrannical ends! Well no longer! The people of Serenity are mindless sheep, and the flock must be controlled, but it is time for a new shepherd. Now that I have the Lady in my grasp, the people will follow her every word - words penned by my hand!" Jonaris raised his hand to give the order for execution, a cruel, triumphant smile on his face. "Your services, Prime Consul, are no longer required…"

Varden grinned, checked his wrist device, and raised his hood once more. "Are you sure of that, my dear Jonaris? Look behind you."

The cleric hesitated, momentarily unsettled by the look of amusement on Varden's face. Hand still wavering in the air, he turned slowly towards the back of the room…

To find himself faced with a steadily increasing hoard of citizens, their stony expressions fixed inexorably on him.

"It looks like the 'flock' aren't entirely happy with what their new shepherd has to say," said Varden with barely concealed amusement.

Jonaris stood rooted to the spot, staring in horror as the people of Serenity began to mutter and point, the scene they had just witnessed being relayed back to those behind, the outrage at his self-incriminating words growing exponentially with each second. And although the noise of the citizen's disaffection grew, all the Procardinal could hear was the sound of the trap closing neatly behind him.

"GET THEM OUT OF HERE!" he bellowed; half of the Order's soldiers immediately turned to advance on the citizens, forcing them back towards the exit, and out into the corridor beyond. Jonaris slowly turned back to face the group on the dais, his eyes locking with Varden's. "You!" he spat contemptuously, "You scheming, manipulative bastard... you had this planned all along!"

"You give me too much credit, Jonaris," the Prime Consul replied. "My choices were made for me, just as much as yours. I too am an instrument... of the future."

Jonaris stared at Varden, blood pounding in his ears as his heart hammered in his fleshy chest. It was over, he thought, all his careful planning and years of hard work brought to nothing. The game was done... but as he looked at his bejewelled hand, still raised in the air, he realised that he still had one final move to make.

"The future," he whispered, his gleaming eyes meeting Varden's once more. "You have stolen my future... but I can still take yours."

With that, Jonaris began to drop his hand to give the order for execution.

For a moment time seemed to slow, the occupants of the dais caught in a nightmarish stasis-field of their own making. Tegan cried out, starting forward as next to her the Doctor struggled to free himself from his guards. Still the hand made its inexorable descent, the trigger-fingers of the surrounding soldiers tightening fractionally with each passing microsecond, their unblinking eyes fixed on the cleric's signal, just as their weapons were trained on the Prime Consul's heart. Varden himself stood calmly, closing his eyes and holding his arms out wide as if to welcome his imminent demise.

The Procardinal's arm had almost completed its journey, when suddenly the scene became bathed in a brilliant, white light emanating from the far corner of the dais, accompanied by a piercing, high-pitched whine. The occupants of the room staggered under the sensory assault, momentarily blinded. A second later the sound and heat of a laser blast rent the air; the Doctor and Tegan instinctively ducked, Tegan gasping in shock as something heavy flew through the air and landed at her feet.

"What the hell?" Her eyes slowly readjusting, she looked down to see the insentient form of Procardinal Jonaris sprawled in front of her.

"DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND STAND DOWN!" The shout echoed around the room, quickly followed by the sound of a hundred energy rifles hitting the floor, as the remaining cloned soldiers in the vicinity immediately relinquished their weapons. The Doctor found himself suddenly released; he rubbed his eyes and looked over in the direction the cry had come from.

"Proctor Morovan?!"

The Proctor stood near the transmat platform, a small blaster in his outstretched hand, the front of his tunic dark with blood. His other arm rested around the shoulders of his companion, who wore a shocked expression that mirrored the Doctor's own. Tegan gasped as she recognised him.

"Suren! What the heck are you doing here?"

"Arriving in the nick of time, it seems," the medic replied. Tegan rushed towards him, but before she could get anywhere near him the medic's attention was distracted as Morovan collapsed beside him with a groan, dropping his weapon to the floor. Tegan rushed to his side, quickly followed by the Doctor.

Suren swiftly checked his pulse, then re-examined his wound. "I told him it was madness to use the transmat," he said. "Any clotting that had occurred previously has just been rearranged at a molecular level, and he's lost too much blood already. He's going into shock."

The Doctor dug around in his pockets. "Here," he said, bringing out a clean white handkerchief, "You can use this to try and staunch the flow. Tegan - could you go and get the medikit from the TARDIS, please?"

Tegan looked around the room - she could hear the clamour of the citizens outside as they clashed with the acolytes trying to herd them from the building, whereas the white-clad soldiers scattered inside the room stood silent and completely motionless, their weapons at their feet. The Doctor sensed her hesitation.

"It's completely safe Tegan, don't worry. The Proctor appears to have complete control over the clones, they won't move a muscle without his say so." He nodded towards the antechamber containing their ship. "Quickly now - and bring Adric back with you." Tegan nodded, and set off at a quick pace. The Doctor watched her go, then turned back to the stricken Morovan, who had opened his eyes.

"That was an extremely foolhardy thing you did, Proctor," the Doctor lectured, "You were very lucky to have survived the transmat."

Morovan coughed, then gave a weak smile. "All in the line of duty," he rasped, before coughing again, his lips shining with blood. "May the Lady have mercy on my soul…"

"No need for that, Proctor," urged Suren, "Tegan will be back in a minute with the medikit, and we'll soon have you sorted out, isn't that right, Doctor?" He looked at the Time Lord, who seemed to be lost in thought.

"The Lady!" he cried, leaping to his feet, "I almost forgot!" He turned to where his Trakenite companion was still imprisoned in her transparent chamber, silently watching the proceedings. In between them, however, the way was blocked by the Seer, Varden, and their remaining grey acolytes who, it seemed, had been silently gathering up the Order's weapons. The Doctor stepped forward.

"Prime Consul, please, we must get Nyssa out of there, and decommission this whole system as soon as possible. If it activates, the whole of Serenity could be lost!"

The Seer shuffled forwards, his small frame bent with age. "No, old friend, I cannot allow that. We must continue… as it was, so must it be."

"You were never so reckless," the Doctor accused. "In all these years, have you learnt nothing?"

"On the contrary, Doctor, I have learned much! So many things you have yet to learn yourself, about the nature of time, about when to take risks… and when to let go. But all of that is, as yet, unwritten. This course of events is set, and we must continue!"

"I cannot let you do this to her!" the Doctor pointed at Nyssa, the anger rising in his voice, "You'll start this process over my dead body!"

The Prime Consul stepped forward, a pistol in his hand. "I wholeheartedly agree," he said, smiling.


Tegan rushed through the TARDIS doors into the empty console room.

"Adric?" she shouted, "Adric! Are you in here?" She marched over to the interior door and through into the corridor. "Adric!"

Tegan waited for a moment, but no response came. "Where in the heck has that boy got to now?" she muttered to herself, before heading down the residential corridor in search of the medikit.


The Seer shuffled to the nearest control panel, his black-gloved hands a blur of motion as he began the system's activation sequence.

"This is madness!" cried the Doctor, staring down the barrel of Varden's pistol. "Prime Consul, you cannot possibly condone this course of action! What about your people?" The Doctor indicated the remaining crowd of citizens across the room. "You are risking the lives of every man, woman and child on this planet!"

"As I said, Doctor," the Prime Consul replied, "I wholeheartedly agree… with you."

Varden turned and pointed his weapon at the back of the Seer's head. "Step away from the controls, old friend."

The Seer froze. Without turning, he laughed, the sound translated into a harsh electronic buzz through his breath-mask.

"Would you like me to act surprised?" the older man asked, chuckling. "Like I haven't known of your intentions from the start? I'll do my best, if you like, but I'm afraid acting has never really been my forte."

"'Intentions'?" asked the Doctor, "What intentions? I thought you shared the same goal: the restoration of the Source!"

The Seer turned, his goggles glinting, unseen eyes fixed on the Prime Consul. "That is, indeed, my intention," he said, "and I believe at some point it was the Prime Consul's. We have travelled a long road together, you and I. Tell me, my dear Varden: at what point did you take the path to betrayal?"

"One man's betrayal is another man's loyalty," Varden countered, "it just depends on your point of view. I act, as I have always acted, for the good of Serenity."

"That good is best served by restoring the Source, Prime Consul! You know that as well as I!"

Varden shook his head. "A Source controlled by whom? You? Her?" He waved his gun in Nyssa's direction. "It's autocracy either way, only this time backed by limitless power, and zero accountability!"

"It worked before," said the Seer, "it can work again."

The Prime Consul broke into hysterical laughter. "Shall we ask the people of Traken how well it worked? Oh, that's right, we can't - they're all dead."

The Doctor eyed Varden suspiciously; out of the corner of his eye he noticed Tegan heading back with the TARDIS medikit. As she ran past a nearby cohort of Order soldiers, the Doctor frowned; something pricked at the back of his mind, but he couldn't put a finger on what it was. He coughed, distracting Varden's attention.

"Forgive me, Prime Consul, but I'm not sure I follow. If you are so against the restoration of the Source, then why have you devoted so much time and energy to its resurrection?"

"Because the only way to control a game is to play it yourself, on one side or another," growled Varden in reply. "I allowed the game to continue, and now the pieces have fallen exactly as I planned, and everyone's strategies are laid bare. The Order is finished, the Lady contained and the Seer exposed, and everyone with the knowledge to recreate the Source is here in this room." He consulted his wrist device, and tapped a few keys. "Now all that remains is to destroy this facility… and the game is won."


Tegan quickly ran over to where Suren crouched, keeping pressure on the stricken Morovan's wound.

"Here you go," she whispered, handing over a large white box, "One medikit. What's going on over there?"

"I don't know. Take over here," Suren said hurriedly, showing Tegan where to press on the Proctor's wound. Morovan groaned in pain, and Tegan looked down at his deathly pale, sweaty face.

"Sorry," she said, "I've never been any good at first aid."

Suren rifled through the medikit. "I don't know what half of this stuff is," he muttered, pulling out a large sterile pad and passing it to Tegan. She removed the Doctor's handkerchief and replaced it with the pad, wincing at the sight of the open wound as she did so. Suren pulled a couple of phials of liquid from the box, examining their labels. "Hopefully this should help," he said, inserting one of the phials into a hypospray injector. "If the label's right it should work to normalise his blood pressure. Presuming it works on Serenites, that is," he added, pressing the injector to Morovan's throat. Tegan looked at it and smiled.

"Good old 'Plan B'," she said with a nervous laugh, "Never fails!"

They looked at each other, smiling fondly at the memories of the past few hours, which seemed like a lifetime ago. Impulsively Suren leaned in, his face inches from hers. He looked at her uncertainly, relief washing over him as, moments later, Tegan moved toward him, closing her eyes. The air seemed suddenly charged with electricity as their lips moved closer, closer, until…

Tegan gasped suddenly, her eyes snapping open as she felt a hand roughly grab her wrist. Suren jumped back, his face flushing.

"I'm sorry!" he gasped, "What did I–"

They both looked down to see Morovan looking back at them, the deathly pallor receding as some colour returned to his cheeks.

"No time for that now," he croaked hoarsely, "Someone has to stop Varden!"


The Doctor paced in front of the Prime Consul, his hands thrust deep into his pockets. "So once you've carried out your final moves and destroyed this lab and, presumably, everyone in it… what then? Who governs Serenity in the aftermath?"

"I will resume control, just as I always have," Varden answered, matter-of-factly.

"So, an autocracy then, just like the one you're so keen to avoid! And what makes you qualified for the job, when no-one else is, hmm?"

"My track record!" retorted Varden. "I have been controlling this colony for decades! I have devoted my whole life to the security of this society!"

The Doctor stopped his pacing, peering directly into Varden's hood. "That's it, isn't it, Prime Consul? Control. You've been engineering events for decades to suit your own purposes! Keeping the people barely fed, but working them hard, so they don't have the time or the energy to rebel… blaming it all on the Order, and setting Whites against Greys to keep everyone from realising the real truth - the fact of your monopoly on power!" He jabbed his finger at Varden, "You're a control freak, Prime Consul! A Keeper without a Source! But you've been at it so long, you can't bear to loosen your grip, and I'm very much afraid that the prospect of losing control is driving you insane!"

Varden shifted the gun from the Seer to point directly at the Doctor's chest.

"You think you know so much, but you know nothing, Time Lord!" he spat. "I have sacrificed my whole life for the sake of order! My marriage, my family - everything! I have done things you couldn't imagine in your worst nightmares in the name of keeping the peace, and taken countless lives to keep Serenity whole! I cannot - I will not - let all that be for nothing!" His voice reached a crescendo as he faced the Doctor down, reinforcing his point by thrusting the muzzle of his pistol into the Time Lord's chest. The Doctor remained calm, looking at him with the pitying eyes of one who had heard countless similar speeches from an array of tyrants, despots and maniacs.

"Oh, my dear Prime Consul," said the Doctor, "you really don't have a choice in the matter."

"I beg to differ," snarled Varden.

The Doctor shook his head sadly. "You think you're in control, but the fact is you're being manipulated just like everyone else. You can't control the future, especially when someone else has already seen it!"

"Too right!" Tegan appeared at the Doctor's elbow, hesitating for a moment as she noticed the gun pointed at his chest.

"Tegan!"

The warning note in the Doctor's voice, as usual, wasn't enough to put his Australian companion off. "No, Doctor, he needs to know what he's dealing with!" She rounded on the Prime Consul. "You think you've got it all worked out, don't you? But what you don't know is that you've sided with one of the most evil beings in the universe, the very person that destroyed Traken in the first place!" Tegan pointed to the Seer, stood quietly watching events a few feet away.

"Tegan, please–" the Doctor began, only to be interrupted by Varden.

"That's ridiculous!" The Prime Consul gave a derisive laugh. "I have known this man for years, and he has always willingly shared his divinations. His ultimate aim may have been misguided, but he has always had the good of Serenity at heart, that I am sure of."

"He's just using you!" Tegan cried, "and he's no flaming prophet either - he's a time-traveller, just like the Doctor! The only reason he knows what's going to happen is because he's seen it before!"

For a fraction of a second the Prime Consul's mask of self-assurance seemed to slip; he quickly recomposed himself, smiling at Tegan condescendingly. "This man is no Time Lord, I assure you. I may not be a xenobiologist, but I believe I have wit enough to be able to recognise one of my own people."

"He's not one of you!" Tegan pointed at the Seer accusingly: "He stole that body from Nyssa's father!"

"Tegan, please be quiet!" The Doctor placed a restraining hand on her shoulder. "I know you mean well, but you don't have all the facts!"

"But–"

"I suggest you do as he says, my dear." Varden turned towards her, his pistol moving with him to point directly at the Australian woman's head. "I have killed many people on the long road that has led us to this point, I have no qualms about adding one more to that list."

Tegan froze, eyes wide in shock as they fixed on the muzzle of the gun hovering inches from her face. The Doctor moved factionally, instinctively reacting to the threat to his companion; Varden sensed the motion and quickly snapped:

"Don't even think about it, Time Lord! One more move and she dies!"

The Doctor froze, then raised his hands in an effort to calm the situation. "There's no need for violence, Prime Consul. Tegan is no threat to you, I assure you. Just put the gun down; I'm sure we can resolve this without any further bloodshed."

Tegan flinched as Varden let out a sudden laugh. "Well, that depends, doesn't it, old friend?" He turned to the Seer, still standing quietly by the control console, absorbing the events before him. "It depends on whether what they are saying is true. On whether you proclaim to be our saviour, when in fact you are the true destroyer of the Union… On whether I am my own man, or merely a hapless puppet, dancing to your tune," he snarled. "On whether you have taken me for a fool!" The Prime Consul's shout echoed around the room. "Well? Which is it, old man?!"

The Seer paused, his breath slowly hissing through his mask as he considered his response. He looked at the Doctor, Tegan, and then at Nyssa, staring mutely from the chamber close by. "If there is one thing I have learned from my long life, it is that nothing is so easily defined… you could argue I am all of these things, and at the same time, none. It is true that I have guided certain events, but only as one who is bound to follow what has gone before." The old man smiled, raising his black-gloved hands. "You may say I had a choice in the matter… others may view me as simply another prisoner of time, but that is for minds greater than ours to decide. To my mind, I could act no other way… as it was, so must it be."

"ENOUGH!" Varden's shout cracked through the air. "I have had enough of your riddles, Seer! I am the master of my own destiny! The future of Serenity is in my hands, and the Source will never be part of it!" He tapped a series of commands into his wrist-device then, before the Doctor could react, the Prime Consul grabbed Tegan's arm, roughly dragging her away in the direction of the transmat station, his blaster held firmly against her temple as she cried out in terror.

"Varden! Let her go! This is madness!" The Doctor shouted, starting towards them. Varden quickly turned his weapon on the advancing Time Lord, causing him to stop in his tracks.

"No Doctor, this is the end of madness! I have just primed a series of explosive devices that will activate on my transmat out of here. The destruction of this facility, and with it the means and knowledge to recreate the Source, will herald a new beginning for Serenity!"

Varden continued to drag his struggling hostage towards the transmat station. Tegan tried everything she could to slow his progress, dragging her heels across the smooth floor, but to no avail. Varden wrapped a wiry arm around her neck; she grabbed it with both hands, putting all her weight on it to try and drag him to the floor. The Prime Consul responded by returning the muzzle of the gun to her temple.

"Now now, my dear - I would co-operate if I were you, after all, a transmat journey with me is the only way to survive the next five minutes…"

Tegan flinched, turning her head away from the gun. Her eyes flickered desperately across the room, only to find it filled with motionless white-robed soldiers standing frozen like some perverse sculpture park. Suddenly, a movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention; she turned her head in its direction, frowning as she failed to find its source, the acolytes still as statues once more. Varden yanked her backwards, and she turned back to him with a snarl:

"If surviving the next five minutes means spending more time with you, I'll pass, thanks!" she retorted, jabbing her elbow backwards. Varden anticipated her blow, turning swiftly to the side. Tegan cried out in frustration as her elbow connected with nothing more than flowing robes.

"You'll have to do better than that, girl," Varden snarled, tightening his grip on her throat.

"Let her go, Prime Consul! This isn't the way!"

Varden turned to see Suren a few yards away from him, Morovan's small pistol in his outstretched hand, pointing directly at the Prime Consul's heart. He laughed scornfully.

"Ah, our lovestruck medic! Found your courage at last, have you Suren? A little too late, I'm afraid."

Suren gritted his teeth in determination. "I won't let you do this, Prime Consul. The people of Serenity are not pawns in your power struggle, nor are the lives of the people in this room expendable, whatever colour they wear. Now drop your weapon, and let Tegan go!"

"Well said!" agreed the Doctor, moving next to the medic. "This is your last chance, Varden. Let Tegan go, disarm your explosives, and this can all end peacefully. You know you can't win."

"Ha!" Varden's harsh laugh echoed around the control room. "If you're gambling on the marksmanship of a medic to beat my trigger finger you are a poor player indeed, Doctor." He heaved Tegan backwards once more, his gun still at the girl's temple. "She would be dead before he could even aim." They backed on to the transmat platform, Tegan's fear-filled eyes fixed on the Doctor's, silently pleading with his to do something - anything - to save her. The Prime Consul smiled, his own eyes gleaming in triumph. "To the future of Serenity!" he cried, reaching down with his gun-hand to activate the transmat controls. The Doctor's eyes narrowed; clenching his fists he let out a sudden shout.

"NOW!"

Tegan found herself jerked abruptly backwards, a strangled cry in her ears; she tried to scream but found that she couldn't breathe, her airway crushed by Varden's left arm tight across her throat. As she clawed at his forearm a laser blast sounded right next to her ear; she flinched at the deafening sound and searing heat on her face, then looked on in silent shock as the Doctor and Suren threw themselves to the floor as two more blasts narrowly missed them. She gasped desperately for air, panicking as blackness started to creep in around the edges of her vision…

Then all of a sudden she was free, legs buckling as she fell unceremoniously to the floor of the transmat station. Tegan's chest heaved as she sucked in huge gulps of air, instinctively flinching as more laser blasts tore through the air above her. Recovering herself slightly she looked up to see the Prime Consul grappling with an Order acolyte, grey and white locked together in a frenzied struggle; the white-robed assailant had one arm round Varden's throat and held his wrist with the other hand, trying desperately to loosen his grip on the weapon grasped tightly in Varden's hand that was now firing wildly and indiscriminately around the room. As the pair struggled Varden swung round violently in an effort to shake his attacker off, the motion causing the acolyte's hood to be flung back from his head, revealing a mop of black hair beneath. Tegan gasped in recognition.

"Adric!"

Varden's head whipped round as she named his unseen assailant. Adric jumped fully onto Varden's back in response, wrapping his arms and legs around the older man in an effort to subdue him, but the Prime Consul fought with renewed vigour, twisting and turning violently to try and shake him off. Wrenching his gun hand free, he flung it behind him, catching Adric on the side of the head with the pistol. Adric cried out in rage as Varden backed up against the wall at the edge of the platform, crushing the boy against the unforgiving stone. His grip loosened, and the Prime Consul quickly turned, pinning Adric up against the stone wall.

"Remember your training, Boy…" Varden growled, his face inches from Adric's. "What is your mission?"

Adric shook his head, Varden's face swimming before him. "I - I… No!" he shouted, turning his face away. "Don't… don't do that!"

"Listen to me, Boy…" the Prime Consul purred, "and remember the words Brother Byrnus spoke to you. Remember your duty… the people of Serenity are depending on you, Adric - you must complete your mission!"

Adric screwed his eyes shut as unwelcome thoughts and feelings flared unbidden in his mind once more, boiling in the pit of his stomach as he fought to retain control. He clenched his fists, his arms trembling. "No!" he growled through gritted teeth, "I won't do it! I won't let you turn me into a murderer!"

"I will."

The voice came from behind Varden; Adric saw the confusion wash over the older man's face for a split second before the violent scream of a laser blast ripped through the air. Adric watched Varden's face change in an instant to a mask of agony, his eyes fixed on Adric's. His lips moved soundlessly for a moment, until his voice finally emerged in a gurgling rasp.

"This - this wasn't how it was supposed to end…"

Adric saw the life slowly fade from Varden's eyes before they rolled heavenwards, and the Prime Consul collapsed against the Alzarian, slowly sliding into a heap on the floor. Adric stared at the body at his feet, then looked up into the eyes of his killer.

The grey-robed figure of Brother Byrnus swayed slightly, blood trickling down from his temple past the shattered remnants of his glasses as the energy rifle in his hand clattered to the floor.


The Doctor picked himself up from the floor, offering a hand to Suren as he got to his feet.

"What happened?" asked Suren.

The Time Lord dusted his pants down, a look of dismay on his face. "A case of the Prime Consul's chickens coming home to roost, I think." Ignoring the medic's puzzled look, he moved to where Tegan sat on the floor of the transmat platform; taking her hand he gently helped her upright. "Are you alright?" he asked, wincing as he noticed the redness of her neck, where bruises were already beginning to form.

"I think so." Tegan coughed, her voice croaky. She looked to where Varden lay motionless a few feet away. "Is he–"

"Dead? Undoubtedly. Brother Byrnus shot him at point blank range." The Doctor watched as Suren tentatively approached the grey-robed brother, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. Byrnus tore his eyes from the body at his feet to look at the medic, before hanging his head despondently. "We're lucky Adric wasn't hurt," said the Doctor.

"Speaking of whom," replied Tegan, "I think you'd better check on him." She nodded to where the boy still stood against the wall, looking down at the Prime Consul's body. "I'll go and see if Nyssa's ok." The Doctor nodded, and Tegan moved off across the dais. The Time Lord watched her go, thoughtfully. Belligerent and argumentative as she was, he mused, there were times when Tegan's humanity was a vital component in his overwhelmingly alien TARDIS crew, keeping them all together when the madness of the universe hijacked his attention for matters of greater consequence. His regeneration-addled brain had been right when he picked her as 'coordinator', he thought. He must remember to tell her that sometime. With a hefty sigh, he turned toward Adric.

Having checked Varden's body and satisfied himself that Brother Byrnus' head wound didn't present any immediate danger, Suren bent down to retrieve the energy rifle at his feet, flinging it away from him in distaste. "Such bloodshed," he muttered, gazing out across the room, strewn with bodies cloaked in grey and white alike. "How did we descend into madness in the space of one night?"

"Not one night." Byrnus shook his head. "This is the culmination of decades of treachery, built on centuries of lies. I realise that only now, after the Father has betrayed me, perverted my life's work, and turned me into a murderer. I fear there is a darkness within us that no light can banish. Serenity is broken."

Suren sighed, then clapped his fellow Serenite on the shoulder. "Then we must fix it," he said determinedly.


The Doctor strode over to where Adric stood over Varden's still form, taking him gently by the shoulders. "How are you feeling, Adric?" he asked, peering into the boy's dark eyes.

Adric tore his eyes from the Prime Consul's body, meeting the Doctor's even gaze. He stared at him for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I… I'm fine, Doctor. I'll be alright."

"Are you sure?" The Doctor was unconvinced. "You've been through the mill these past couple of days, physically and mentally. It's going to take some time to recover from." Adric opened his mouth to speak, but the Doctor raised his finger, stopping him. "I know: 'Alzarians heal faster'. But this isn't just a scraped knee, Adric… they've been inside your head, made you do things and think things that go against every fibre of your being. They have hurt you in ways you're only just beginning to realise, and such scars take time to heal." The Doctor put his arm protectively around the boy's shoulders. "I know now is not the time, but when you're ready to talk about it… I'm here."

Adric drew breath to speak, but he couldn't find the words or the strength to argue. He simply nodded, eyes brimming with tears.

"Good chap," said the Doctor, smiling. "And thank you, by the way, for coming to Tegan's rescue. I was beginning to fear the worst for a moment, until I saw you creeping through our frozen friends over there. That was a very brave thing you did, young man."

A smile threatened to break its way through to Adric's face for a moment, but it was immediately superseded by a frown. "How did you know it was me?" he asked. The Doctor grinned.

"Well, you are a little short for an acolyte," he chuckled. "Now, let's–"

"DOCTOR! COME QUICK!"

The cry came from across the dais, Tegan's panicked voice unmistakable.

The Doctor and Adric shot to their feet in an instant, sprinting in her direction.


Outside the control room, the citizens had been slowly forced back down the corridor leading back to the entrance, the hooded Order soldiers advancing menacingly, their weapons primed. Angry shouts came from the back of the crowd, whilst those at the front attempted to stand their ground, pushing back against the relentless approach of the white-robed clones.

"Back off!" shouted Von, reacting angrily to a violent push from the acolyte in front of him. "We are citizens of Serenity - not mindless animals to herd!"

His rebuke was met with cries of support from the crowd, clenched fists raised high in defiance as the tension in the air grew, charged with the people's anger and frustration, aimed at the soldiers before them who represented centuries of oppression and deceit. Still the clones pressed forward, unwilling and unable to deviate from their orders; Von pulled Rosa behind him as he saw citizens around them pushed brutally to the ground. A hooded youth next to them staggered under the onslaught, crying out in anger as he reached under his cloak.

"Get off me!" he shouted, pulling out an energy rifle he had taken from the earlier struggle at the entrance. "DEATH TO THE ORDER!" the youth screamed, and opened fire.

The Order soldiers immediately retaliated, unleashing their weapons on the crowd, as the scene in the corridor descended into chaos.


The Doctor and Adric arrived to see Tegan knelt by a crumpled form on the floor, her hands covered in blood. She looked up as they neared her.

"I… I was checking on Nyssa but when I got here I knew something was wrong - she was beside herself, banging on the glass like crazy… I tried to get her out but I couldn't open the lock, and then she pointed over here and I found… I found him like this!"

The Doctor looked down, gasping as he recognised the body before them.

"The Seer!"

"What happened to him?" asked Adric, as the Doctor knelt down beside Tegan to examine the old man.

"I think… I think it must have been when Varden had me hostage, and you were trying to get him off - his gun was firing everywhere, remember? I think he must have got caught in the crossfire!"

"Adric!" The Doctor looked up at him. "Go and see if you can open that lock and free Nyssa. Tegan - go and get Suren, and bring the medikit!" Adric leapt to his task, but Tegan lingered for a moment, confused.

"I'm no medic, but I think it's too late for that, Doc," she replied, her voice wavering. "Besides, he's a Time Lord - won't he just regenerate?"

"Tegan, please!"

On hearing the urgency in the Doctor's voice Tegan offered no further argument. Getting to her feet, she dashed off to find Suren. The Doctor looked down at the old man. He moved slightly, groaning noisily through his mask.

"It's alright, I'm here," soothed the Doctor. "You're going to be fine."

The Seer's mask erupted with a harsh electronic buzz; the Doctor started, before realising it was the sound of laughter. The skin around the Seer's goggles crinkled as he turned his face towards the Doctor.

"I think we both know that's a lie, old friend."

"No!" the Doctor replied, an edge of angry desperation in his voice. "I can save you, just let me–"

"You already have, my dear Doctor…" the old man interrupted, "So many times, and in ways you have yet to comprehend. But this is the end. The only thing you can do now is to help me on my final journey. The preparations are made… I just need to take the final step." The Seer reached out to the Doctor with a shaking, black-gloved hand. "Will you help me, old friend?"

The Doctor closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face. Then slowly, hesitantly, he took the Seer's hand in his own. "Of course I will," he replied, his voice husky.

"What?!"

The Doctor's eyes snapped open, to find Adric standing over him. Nyssa stood a few feet away, finally freed from her prison, a look of horror on her flushed face as she looked down at the figure laid before them. Adric's expression was indignant.

"You're going to help him? After all he's done?"

"Adric, you don't–"

"I don't what? Understand?" the boy retorted, "You're right, I don't! I don't understand why you're helping the Master, after everything he's put us all through!"

"What's going on?" Tegan returned at that moment, closely followed by Suren. The medic quietly knelt by the Seer's side, the TARDIS medikit in his hand.

"Tegan…" the Doctor started, only to be cut off by Adric once more.

"He's helping the Master!" the Alzarian exclaimed. "The man who murdered your aunt, tortured me, wiped out Traken and killed Nyssa's father!"

"You can't be serious," Tegan gasped, folding her arms tightly across her chest. "After all he's done? How can you even think of doing such a thing? If this is some sort of weird Time Lord thing then I swear–"

"Tell them."

Nyssa's soft voice cut Tegan off in mid-tirade. All eyes turned towards her, the Doctor's filled with a questioning look.

"You must tell them, Doctor - it's the only way," she continued, her pale green eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Tell us what?" asked Tegan.

The Doctor looked down at the wrinkled face of the Seer, half-covered as it was with alien technology. Staring into the opaque lenses, he tried to catch a glimpse of the person underneath, but all he could see was his own deceptively youthful face staring back at him. He considered for a moment, before sighing in resignation.

"May I?"

The Seer nodded slowly and silently. The Doctor leaned over; taking a deep breath, he gently unclipped the breath mask from the old man's face, throwing it to one side. It landed with a clatter against the control panel nearby, momentarily breaking the silence in the room. The Seer gasped, sucking in the cool, unfiltered air for the first time in decades, his chest heaving. The Doctor waited a moment for his breathing the settle, then reached forward and carefully took hold of the old man's goggles, pulling them gently away from his face. The Seer's eyes were closed tight shut. Slowly, tentatively, they opened, irises contracting furiously against the harsh light above.

The wide eyes were clear and bright, shining with intelligence… and a distinctive shade of pale green.

Tegan and Adric gasped simultaneously in shock.

"But that's - it can't be…" Tegan stammered, looking at the Doctor in confusion, her gaze flicking between her young Trakenite friend and the wrinkled face before her. "That's impossible!"

"I'm afraid not, Tegan," replied the Doctor, solemnly.

"I've been trying to tell you," said Nyssa, disconsolately, "ever since the struggle in the laboratory, when I looked into the Seer's eyes… and saw my own."


"Quick, Von! Run!"

The big man ducked as a laser blast burned through the air close to his head, his red-haired wife pulling him by the hand. The corridor was strewn with bodies, both of citizens and of soldiers, as the few citizens who had taken guns from Fenravic's men had brought them into play as the Order began to open fire indiscriminately. People were running screaming towards the exit, dragging their injured friends and loved ones with them. He looked into Rosa's panicked face.

"Go," he said, "I'm right behind you!"


Adric knelt by the old figure, staring into the aged face, lined with time and experience. The Seer's cowl had fallen back slightly, revealing long white hair, curled ringlets framing the aristocratic features and unmistakeable eyes. "Nyssa?" he whispered. "Is that really you?"

The old woman's gaze fixed on the boy, a range of emotions chasing across her lined face in a confusing mixture of sorrow and joy, green eyes brimming with tears. "Adric," she breathed, smiling. "It's good to see you again. All of you, in fact. It's been such a long time."

Tegan turned to the younger Nyssa stood next to her, mouth agape. The young Trakenite stared at the older version of herself, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her youthful face betrayed the sense of revulsion and horror she felt at being directly presented with her future self, bound up in a life and fate that she couldn't comprehend. Tegan put an arm protectively round her shoulder. "I don't like this, Doctor," she said, warily.

"Neither do I, Tegan, not one little bit." The Time Lord frowned, turning to the old woman laid before him. "Considering everything we've been through since we arrived on Serenity, I think you have some explaining to do," he said gravely.

The older Nyssa coughed suddenly, her face wracked with pain. Suren looked up from his examination of her injuries. "Better make it quick," he said quietly, "I'm afraid she may not have long."

The coughing subsided, and the old Trakenite's breathing steadied. She smiled fondly at the familiar faces surrounding her.

"I knew this would be the end… just as I remembered it happening, all those years ago. But I couldn't wish to be in better company," she said, smiling. "I have lived such a long time, and have seen and experienced so many things that it will take me a lifetime to tell you about them all. But that's for another time, far from now… plus I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise," she laughed, looking at her younger self, before continuing.

"I had found contentment in my old age, in my garden a world away from here, and I would have been happy to end my days there. But then…" she paused, wary of providing too much detail. "An opportunity presented itself, a beacon in the darkness that I knew I had to follow. I took it, knowing that it would lead me across unfathomable distances back here to Serenity, birthplace of the Source that lit my first moments in life, with a chance to right one last wrong."

"That's all very noble," said the Doctor, "but you know how dangerous it is to meddle in time like this… how could you be so irresponsible?" he admonished.

The elder Nyssa smiled wryly. "I learned from the best."

The Doctor frowned. "And why all the deception? If you had explained from the beginning I would have helped you, you know I would. All this violence and death could have been avoided."

Nyssa sighed. "I regret any loss of life, you know I do, Doctor. But I am bound by time… you know as well as I do that the only way to be certain of a future outcome is to preserve the events of the past - the events I witnessed a lifetime ago had to take place in order for Serenity to survive in the future."

"You mean if you'd done things differently, it might not have turned out alright in the end?" asked Tegan.

"As it was, so must it be…" intoned Adric thoughtfully. The Doctor looked at him, frowning.

"There must have been another way!" The younger Nyssa suddenly broke her silence, her voice carrying an edge of anger at the seemingly callous disregard her older self had for the sanctity of life. "I would never put my friends in danger in this way… I would never condone such bloodshed!"

Her older self smiled sadly, wrinkles creasing around her green eyes. "But you already have, child, and you will again. The circle is complete, and it cannot be broken. You will understand, one day."

"But these people trusted you!" Nyssa indicated the grey-cloaked bodies dotted around the room. "They trusted you, and you did nothing to prevent their deaths!"

The old woman sighed wearily. "Regime change, however nobly meant, is never easy, and seldom happens without the spilling of innocent blood. Each one of these people knew the risks, and accepted them willingly. They gave their lives for something they believed in, although I did not ask them to, nor want them to, knowing that in doing so they would create a better world for all. Believe me, my child, if I had not interfered, the civil war that Varden and Jonaris were heading for would have caused far greater loss of life, with the survivors finding themselves bound in even tighter chains than they were before." She coughed again, pain lancing through her aged body. "At least this way, I can set things right… and give a final gift to the last remnants of the Traken Union, before I go to join my father…" She closed her eyes, her breathing laboured.


The crowd of citizens burst out of the Source lab, their cries shattering the early morning stillness as the sounds of gunfire raged behind them. Rosa and Von ran hand in hand through the doors into the misty grounds beyond, but soon found their way blocked by people.

"What is it?" shouted Rosa, "What's going on?"

"There's nowhere to go!" shouted someone in front of them. "It's the Fosters - the Fosters are here!"

Von looked out over the heads of the crowd, to see a large unit of the civic guards arranged in formation, weapons primed and ready to fire. The citizens had stopped before them, their panicked shouts and screams filling the air. The tall, grey-haired figure of Foster Telemas stepped forward, a vocal amplifier at his throat.

"ALL CITIZENS ARE ORDERED TO DISPERSE, BY ORDER OF THE PRIME CONSUL. MARTIAL LAW HAS BEEN DECLARED…RETURN TO YOUR HOMES QUICKLY AND QUIETLY! ANY FURTHER BREACHES OF CURFEW WILL BE DEALT WITH SEVERELY."

"Martial law," muttered Rosa bitterly. "Things are going from bad to worse."

As Von nodded in grim agreement, the doors of the Source Lab suddenly exploded with gunfire as the Order's clones burst through in pursuit of the fleeing crowd. The citizens already outside flinched and ducked as the waiting Fosters immediately returned fire, filling the air with the sizzling heat of energy bolts flying overhead. Rosa screamed, throwing herself to the floor as Von crouched over her, protecting her with his huge frame. He looked into her eyes, as the grounds echoed with violent explosions and the screams of the dying.

"There's no escape!" he said, eyes wide with fear. "It's civil war!"


Tegan stepped forward to where the older Nyssa lay, her eyes brimming with tears. "Is she…?"

Suren shook his head, pulling out a hypospray and applying it to the old woman's neck. "No, but there's not much time. I can't do anything else for her."

"She mentioned a gift," murmured Adric, "but what gift can she possibly give now?"

"Her life," replied the Doctor, solemnly.

"But what good will that do?" asked Tegan.

The Doctor reached down, taking the elder Nyssa's gloved hand in his. "The rebirth of the Source requires a massive energy influx, more than the resources of this planet are capable of providing. I had thought that the Master's TARDIS was somehow being used to provide that power, but I was wrong." He looked up at the younger Trakenite. "Nyssa herself can provide it."

Tegan frowned. "What? How on earth can she do that?"

"It's a principle of time travel that if two temporal versions of the same person come into physical contact then the time differential will short out, causing a massive energy discharge. That's why she needed my power regulator - only a component engineered on Gallifrey could cope with the levels of unstable time energy created."

"I'm not going to pretend that I understood any of that," said Tegan, "but you can explain it another time. What I did get was that it sounds dangerous."

"Yes, Tegan, incredibly dangerous. That's what this chamber is for," the Doctor indicated the cylindrical structure that Nyssa had been imprisoned within, "to contain and channel the energy. But the touch would have to occur inside the chamber, and the participants would be exposed to its effects."

"You mean it could kill Nyssa?" cried Tegan, looking from the girl at her side to the old woman at her feet. "Both of her? We can't risk that!"

"I think it's safe to say it won't," said Adric, matter-of-factly, "otherwise our Nyssa wouldn't live - or have lived - to become this Nyssa."

"Well I still don't like it," Tegan retorted, turning on the Doctor. "You said yourself this thing's a deathtrap! 'A single wire out of place', you said, and the whole thing could blow sky high!"

"Adric's right, to a certain extent," the Doctor sighed, "if that did happen then this older version of Nyssa wouldn't be here… but of course that outcome might only come about because of any action we take now." He looked at the younger Nyssa, a grave expression on his youthful face. One again he found himself bearing the weight of a decision of monumental consequence on his shoulders, the fate of millions of souls resting in his hands. Would this decision straighten his record, and assuage the lingering guilt over Traken? Or would he become the Herald once more, ushering in the darkness that would quench out the last of the Union's lingering light? He stared into the face of his young Trakenite companion, her eyes fixed upon his own and awaiting his judgement. But the more he thought about it, the more he realised that it wasn't his choice to make.

"This is your life, Nyssa - your home, your people… and your decision. As the daughter of the last Keeper Nominate, I don't think there is anyone more qualified to make it, and I will abide by your wishes, whatever they may be."

Nyssa stood silent for a moment, then blinked and looked down at her older self, laid dying at her feet. For a moment the enormity of the events of the last two days, culminating in her standing here, witnessing her own last moments of life, overwhelmed her. She closed her eyes, shutting out the madness if only for a few brief seconds. Within the protected haven of her mind she could still feel the turmoil around her - that of her own feelings, and also, faint and distant beyond her mental barriers, those of the population of the colony, swirling and crashing against her defences like a whirling storm of despair and anguish. Nearer still she could feel violent turmoil and pain, sharp spikes of desperate emotion pricking at her consciousness like needles. Making her decision, she opened her eyes.

"We must help them," she said, determinedly.


The Doctor looked up for a moment as two of his young companions carried their aged friend towards the huge perspex tube that dominated the control room, her younger incarnation walking behind, like a mourner in a funeral cortège. They laid her carefully within the chamber, propping her failing body up against the curved wall. The Time Lord turned back to the control panel before him, making one last survey of the flickering readouts.

"Well, I think that's the best we can do, Brother Byrnus," he said to the figure stood beside him. "How do things look from your end?"

"With the quick repairs we've just made, everything seems to be functioning within acceptable parameters," Byrnus replied, staring intently at a string of figures on the nearest display. He checked the chronometer. "And we're just in time," he said, "Any later and the sun would have been too high, and the telemetry unworkable."

"Then there's nothing else to do," said the Doctor, taking a deep breath and stuffing his hands into his pockets, "but to say goodbye."


"Nyssa?"

The old woman's eyes fluttered open, to find the faces of the past staring down at her, as fresh and clear as they had been preserved in her memory. She smiled back at their concerned expressions.

"I'm still here…don't worry," she whispered.

"I think they're ready," said Tegan, looking over her shoulder to see the Doctor approaching. He stopped outside the chamber to talk to the younger Nyssa.

"Time to say my goodbyes then," the older Trakenite breathed, "for the final time, I think…"

"Don't say that," said Tegan, her voice tremulous. "You never know–"

"Ah, but that's the trouble - I do know." Nyssa took Tegan's hand. "Please don't be sad," she pleaded. "I have had a wonderful and fulfilling life; I've seen and done so many things that I couldn't even have dreamt of in my short years on Traken… but all things must come to an end. I'm tired, and my body is spent." She chuckled, a memory from long ago stirring in her mind. "It seems I'm not indestructible, after all." She coughed, pain syphoning through her body; as it faded, she felt someone take her other hand.

"Adric," she said, turning to face the boy with a smile. "It's been so good to see you again, and to get the chance to say goodbye properly, this time." Nyssa frowned, then continued: "But even though I've had so many years to think of what to say to you, now the moment is here I find myself lost for words."

"It's alright," Adric said, his voice low. "You don't need to say anything."

She gripped his hand tightly, blinking away tears. "We were so young, you and I, both torn from our homes and families, clinging desperately to the Doctor like a life raft in a vast and frightening universe. You helped me so much in those early days, keeping me together when my world literally fell apart before our eyes, and I never got to thank you." She sighed deeply, her voice catching in her throat. "Just know that… that whatever happens, I will never forget you, I promise."

Adric stared at her for a moment, sensing that there was something else behind her words, something more she wanted to say but for some reason couldn't. He opened his mouth to speak, but found he didn't have the vocabulary to convey what he was feeling. He simply squeezed her hand in return, nodding briefly before turning his flushed face away, wiping his eyes roughly with his sleeve. He got to his feet, and headed towards the chamber door. As he reached the threshold, he hesitated, looking back over his shoulder. "Goodbye Nyssa, I… I won't forget you, either," he said quietly, then stepped through the door, back out into the control room. Nyssa watched him go, a bittersweet smile on her face, then turned to face Tegan.

The Australian's face was already streaked with tears. Nyssa smiled at her, gently wiping her cheek. "What was it the Doctor used to say to you? 'Brave heart'? You always did wear it on your sleeve," she breathed, her wide eyes twinkling.

"I'm sorry," Tegan apologised, "This is the last thing you need, having to deal with a blubbering Aussie at a time like this."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." Nyssa chuckled softly. "But you really shouldn't worry… this may be my last farewell, but it's not yours. We'll see each other again, even though it may seem impossible. That's one of the beauties of travelling with the Doctor, remember - not all goodbyes are forever."

"You don't have to do this, you know," cried Tegan. "We could take you in the TARDIS, get you somewhere that can help…" Her trembling voice trailed off as the old Trakenite shook her head, white curls bouncing around her wrinkled face.

"Tempting as it would be to take one last trip in the TARDIS, I have to do this, Tegan. You know that… you know me… better than anyone. If my death can bring peace to this world, then… then my life's work will be complete, and I can die a happy woman." She gripped Tegan's hand once more, squeezing it tightly. "And so much the happier for seeing you again, Tegan. I never got to tell you at the time, but… you have been and always will be my dearest friend, and I count myself lucky to have known you. Never forget that, will you?" She reached up, wiping Tegan's tears from her cheek with a shaking hand, her voice wavering. "Never forget me."

Tegan took her hand, tears flowing freely down her face. "How could I ever forget you?" she sobbed, trying to force a smile. "You're one of a kind." She took Nyssa's hand, pressing it to her cheek as the Doctor appeared at the door.

"It's time," said the Doctor, solemnly. "Are you ready?" The older Nyssa nodded. Tegan took one last look at her old friend, her eyes expressing everything she wanted to say, if only time had not run out on them. Gently kissing her on the cheek, she whispered a hoarse farewell, then turned and left the chamber, running into the arms of the younger Nyssa, who was waiting anxiously a few feet away. Adric joined them, awkwardly patting Tegan on the back.

"Last chance," said the Doctor, crouching next to the elderly Trakenite. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Last chance…" repeated Nyssa, eyes brimming with tears, "in more ways than one." She took a deep breath. "I have said goodbye to you so many times, Doctor, each time infinitely harder than the last. Only this time, I know it's the end."

The Time Lord sighed, avoiding her eyes. "I've never been very good at goodbyes," he said, his skin flushing in contrast with his fair hair.

"You'll get better with age," she smiled warmly, thinking of the first time she had parted from him, leaving him to forge a new life on a grimy, disease-ridden spaceship long ago. "It's ironic really - my last goodbye, and your first. Our lives have so rarely been in sync."

The Doctor held up his hand. "Nyssa, please - you mustn't tell me anything about the future. Foreknowledge is a such a dangerous thing."

"I know, I know," she sighed sadly. She moved her shaking hand to his face, tracing the youthful line of his cheek, the bittersweet moment almost tearing her heart in two. Here she was at last, with the opportunity to thank this man - this wonderful, impossible man, who had snatched her from a doomed planet and gone on to save her life time and again in a thousand different ways, who had showed her the wonders of the universe and taught her things that stretched the very limits of her comprehension, taking her along the way from frightened child to confident woman… and yet even though every detail of their time together was seared indelibly into her memory, it was all still unwritten for him. In their years travelling together they had forged a close bond based on mutual respect and friendship, and a trust that can only evolve between those who have held each others lives in their hands… but as she looked into his eyes she could see nothing of that, just the faint stirring of what was yet to be. All that she wanted to say hung dead in the air between them, fettered by the unbreakable chains of time.

As Nyssa's aged fingers brushed against his skin, she felt brief flutterings of emotion, her latent psychic sensitivity heightened by the momentary physical contact. Her fingers wandered across his temple, each transient touch sparking off another faint glimmer of feeling, sketching in a faint outline of the Doctor's emotional state. She closed her eyes, frowning as she sensed sadness, concern, sympathy… but all with a swelling undercurrent of unshakeable guilt and remorse. She realised in that moment the extent of the responsibility he took upon himself, not only for her and his other companions, not only for Traken and the fate of its people, but for each and every life he had touched in one way or another through his long centuries of wandering through the universe. He carried it with him, this impossible burden, the broad shoulders of the Time Lord barely enough to manage its weight. But, she realised, it was what drove him on, what spurred him into action as he set foot on each new planet with the unstoppable desire to set things right. And with that thought, she understood what she must do.

"May I?" she whispered, reaching again towards his temple. The Doctor drew back slightly, realising what she intended. "Trust me, old friend," she soothed, "remember, I'm not a full telepath. This way, there'll be no specifics, no detail. Please… let me give you my parting gift, before I go."

The Doctor hesitated momentarily, then gently took her hand, guiding her fingers across his brow to the right positions. Taking a deep breath, he nodded silently and closed his eyes.

"Contact," Nyssa breathed.

The Doctor gasped, the immediate inrush of her emotions taking his breath away. Within moments, however, the flow steadied, and he found he could begin to discern the different facets of what he was experiencing. This wasn't at all like the mental contact they had experienced in the Infirmary, he realised, noting that Nyssa had been right - whereas their previous sharing had been initiated by him, with Nyssa as the conduit the connection was on her terms, and rather than sharing the detailed experiences and memories that had flowed through his fully telepathic synapses, what he was receiving through her was at once more limited yet in some ways richer, a kaleidoscope of unfettered emotion unbound by physical events.

Nyssa smiled as she felt him settle into the connection, then concentrated as she began to access specific experiences from her long life, knowing that all that would be passed to the Doctor were the feelings that those memories evoked. She thought first of her time on Terminus, the uncertainty of those first few months as they struggled to survive, eclipsed by her growing confidence and finally triumph at eventually finding a cure for Lazar's disease, and the billions of lives they had saved as a result. She remembered the first time she had met Lasarti, the happiness their friendship had brought her and the elation as that friendship blossomed into love. A love that had multiplied exponentially with the birth of their children… Nyssa smiled as she recalled the utter joy that they had brought her, the indefinable feeling of contentment and completeness as she remembered her daughter's tiny fingers wrapping around her own for the first time, her son's first smile, the feeling of their small, warm bodies in her arms, holding on to her with a primal and unconditional love. The pride she felt as they grew, taking their first steps into the world and seeing the joy of discovery on their faces as each new experience was shared with her, flowers and petals offered up like the most precious of treasures. Happy memories of golden summers spent together, and the games they had played in their gardens on Zarat, the whole family laughing and tumbling together in a jumble of arms and legs as the setting sun cast long shadows, bringing endless days to a reluctant close. Her mind shifted, back to her continuing work in xenomedicine, and further diseases conquered, with countless more families across the galaxy spared the heartbreak of loss. Then on to Apollyon, and how her own initial feelings of loss became supplanted with satisfaction as life in the colony began to turn around under her guidance, followed by the peace and contentment of old age as her garden bloomed around her under the warmth of the rejuvenated sun.

Finally, Nyssa brought her thoughts back to those early years spent travelling with the Doctor, the thrill and excitement of each new journey, the wonder of learning and the warmth of their companionship, and the solace gained from knowing that she was no longer alone in the universe. She opened her eyes and looked at the Time Lord. "My life has been a gift from your hands," she whispered, "And so too the lives of those that I have touched. None of it would have been possible without you. Never forget that."

The Doctor opened his eyes, his face flushed, breathless from experiencing the emotions that Nyssa had shared with him, and at the same time humbled by the implications. He felt lightened somehow, as if a burden had been lessened. "Thank you," he said, taking her small hand from his face and wrapping it in both of his. "I… I don't know what to say."

"No, Doctor, thank you," she replied. "For so many things."

He gently raised her hand, brushing it softly with his lips. "It has been an honour to have known you, Lady Nyssa of Traken," he said, sincerely.

"The honour was, and forever will be, all mine," she replied, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

The Doctor got to his feet, and walked slowly to the chamber door. As he reached the threshold he hesitated, looking over his shoulder. No matter how many times he did this, it never got any easier, he mused. And just as each and every one of his companions brought something unique to his life, every parting was different, each friend taking a little bit of him away with them when they left, to be scattered across eternity like stars in the infinite void. But for Nyssa her travelling days were over, and the part of him that she carried was dying with her, diminishing his immortality as a result. The aching feeling of loss tightening across his chest was an unfamiliar occurrence for a Time Lord; he prayed it would be a long time before he felt its like again.

"Goodbye," he said hoarsely, as he thrust his hands into his pockets and stepped through the door.


Byrnus was waiting for the Doctor at the chamber threshold, in an apparent state of agitation. The Doctor greeted him, glad of the distraction.

"Ah, Brother Byrnus. Is everything ready?"

The grey-cloaked brother nodded. "Yes Doctor, but we are running out of time. If we wait much longer, the window will be closed."

"Well, no time like the present, then," the Doctor replied, turning to where his companions stood huddled together, along with Suren. "Nyssa? Are you ready?"

The younger version of his Trakenite companion turned to him, hesitating for a brief moment before nodding solemnly. She started walking toward the chamber door, but found a hand on her arm, holding her back.

"You can still change your mind, you know," pleaded Tegan, "It doesn't have to end like this."

"You know I can't do that." Nyssa smiled back at her, putting on a brave face. "Don't worry about me, Tegan," she said, pulling her into a tight hug, "I'm indestructible." Gently disengaging herself from Tegan's arms, she gave Adric a brief smile, then walked to the door, where the Doctor stood waiting for her. He put his hands on her shoulders, stooping a little to peer into her eyes.

"We don't have much time," he said, "do you know what to do?" Nyssa nodded silently, curls bouncing around her youthful face. "I… I'm sorry, Nyssa," he continued, eyes downcast, "If there was any way to avoid this you know I–"

"Doctor, this isn't your fault," she interrupted, "not any of it." She looked at the older version of herself through the glass, "And it's fitting, in a way. The last link to the old Source, giving birth to the new… I couldn't ask for a better legacy."

The Doctor looked at her, shaking his head in admiration. "You're a very brave person. I–"

"No, Doctor," she interrupted, "Don't say your goodbyes yet - save them for another time. I'll be fine." Before she could lose her nerve she gave him a quick hug, then took a deep breath, and walked to the chamber door. The Doctor followed behind.

"We'll need a minute to calibrate the controls," he instructed. "Good luck." Nyssa nodded, and stepped into the chamber, the Doctor closing the heavy door behind her. He turned to find Byrnus waiting for him.

"Right, Brother Byrnus," he said, putting his arm round the other man's shoulders - "It's now or never. Let's get this show on the road."


Nyssa had closed her eyes as the chamber door shut behind her, unwilling for the moment to open them and confront the inescapable fate before her. She breathed deeply, mentally counting off seconds in her head, until she heard an eerily familiar voice speak.

"Is it time, already?"

Nyssa nodded, keeping her eyes firmly shut.

"You can open your eyes, you know. I won't bite." The voice was faint, and frail-sounding. Nyssa frowned.

"I - I've seen quite enough of what I've become, thank you," she replied.

"As you wish." The older Trakenite sighed. "I don't have the time, or the energy to argue, I'm afraid. I know you'll forgive me one day… or rather, you'll forgive yourself."

"I'll have to take your word for that."

The elder Nyssa shook her head ruefully. "I wish we had more time… I wish…" Her voice broke, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. "There are so many things I want to say to you, about the life you're going to lead and the choices you're destined to make. About the significance of what you are about to do, not just for the people of Serenity, but also for yourself…"

"I can't know anything about the future, you know that!" the younger Nyssa retorted, her eyes snapping open.

"I know." The old woman held her hands out to her younger self. "Come closer, child - the moment is drawing near, and we must be ready."

Nyssa reluctantly moved across the chamber, carefully kneeling directly facing her future self. Her head suddenly ached, a dull pain throbbing at the base of her skull; she put her hand to her brow, wincing.

"I'm sorry, child, that's my fault. Psychic feedback. The humanoid brain wasn't designed to occupy the same space and time."

Nyssa looked at the dying woman before her, her familiar face lined with age and untold experiences that would, in time, become her own, shaping her into this person that she could barely reconcile with herself. "Just tell me one thing," Nyssa asked quietly, "Is it all worth it?"

The aged Trakenite smiled, remembering back to the events the young woman before her would go on to witness, and the life she was yet to lead. Her eyes filled with tears, emotions welling up within her. "Oh yes," she breathed, her voice faltering as pain lanced through her failing body. Her younger self reached forward, before pulling her hands back quickly, wary of touching her. The old Nyssa settled again, her breathing laboured. "Just promise me one thing," she whispered, tears escaping onto her time-worn face. "Promise me… that once you find him, don't waste a minute. Hang on to each precious moment, because… because nothing is forever."

"I - I promise," replied Nyssa, suddenly overcome at the depth of feeling she sensed from the older woman before her, and the future that her words hinted at… a future where she was no longer alone. As the seconds in her head ticked down to zero, she reached out, fingers hesitating near her older self's face. "To days to come," she said, a brief smile of hope flickering across her lips.

"All my love to long ago," the older Nyssa replied, closing her eyes for the final time.


"Ready, Byrnus?" the Doctor shouted over the steadily increasing whine reverberating around the Source control room. The Serenite nodded, gripping on to the levers and switches in front of him, his eyes fixed on the flickering displays.

"All systems go!"

The Doctor checked the controls, making some last minute adjustments before shouting: "Three! Two! One–"


Nyssa's fingers gently stroked the old woman's face, wiping a last lingering tear from her wrinkled cheek, before the chamber exploded in a burst of searing white light.


Stood directly next to the chamber, Adric, Tegan and Suren recoiled from the surge of intense brightness, stumbling as the ground below them started to shake. Tegan cried out, holding on to Suren for balance, as Adric dropped to his knees, looking to where the Doctor and Byrnus were stood, holding on to the control panel for dear life.

"It's holding!" shouted Byrnus, watching numbers flash past on the screen in front of him.

"Energy levels building!" the Doctor bellowed, shielding his eyes as he looked toward the chamber. Nothing could be seen of its occupants. The towering cylinder was opaque with brilliant white light, pulsing with an intensity that threatened to tear the facility apart, the energy ducts that spread from its ends glowing white hot as they fanned out across the floor and ceiling like snaking rivers of molten metal. "A few more seconds….!"

"This place is going to shake itself apart!" Tegan's cry was almost drowned out by the deafening thrum of the energy build up that seemed to vibrate through to her bones; she clapped her hands over her ears to block out the noise, Adric and Suren doing likewise as the floor bucked and rolled beneath them.

"The capacitors are almost full!" shouted Byrnus, frowning as he suddenly noting a warning light flashing to his right. "Doctor! The secondary capacitor is weakening! If it fails–"

"I know - the resulting explosion would be catastrophic! Is there an auxiliary?"

"Yes, but there's not enough time to bring it on line!" cried Byrnus, an edge of panic in his voice.

The Doctor flashed him a reassuring grin, his hands moving across the controls at a speed Byrnus couldn't fathom. "You leave that to me - I know a few shortcuts!" The Serenite scientist looked on in disbelief as, moments later, the warnings displayed on his readouts disappeared one by one.

"You've done it!" he shouted jubilantly. "The energy's been dumped to the auxiliary capacitor, with minimal wastage! We're almost there!"

The rhythmic pulsing of the light within the chamber increased in intensity, the unbearable noise becoming a physical force that threatened to shake apart the molecular bonds of everything in the vicinity. Adric fell to the floor, swiftly joined by Tegan and Suren, their faces contorted in agony as sound and light tore through them…

Then all of a sudden, the light faded, as quickly and violently as it had begun. Adric gasped in relief as the noise similarly abated, reducing to a low background hum. He shook his head, his ears ringing as he looked round to check on Tegan and Suren, relieved to find they were still in one piece.

"That's it! Energy levels at maximum!" shouted the Doctor, clapping a shaken Byrnus on the shoulder - "Just maintain the stabilisation fields, Byrnus, we're not there yet!"


Outside the facility, the violence continued unabated, Serenite clashing with Serenite in a desperate and bloodstained struggle for existence, the bodies of the fallen strewn across the ground like broken dolls.

Rosa and Von stood back to back, a brief respite in the fighting around them giving them time to catch their breath. They stood there together, their clothes torn and streaked with dirt and blood, chests heaving with exertion.

"Look!" said Von suddenly, indicating towards the cohort of Fosters to their left, "There's a break in the line!" Seeing their chance to escape from the mayhem surrounding them, Von grabbed Rosa by the wrist, and together they broke into a run.

They had covered half the distance, when Von felt his wife suddenly torn from his grasp. He turned to see her being pulled to the ground by an Order acolyte, who was reaching round to bring his energy rifle to bear on her.

"ROSA!" Von roared furiously, launching himself at the soldier, who reacted instantly, the muzzle of the gun moving in the big man's direction and pulling the trigger. Rosa screamed as the blast hit Von in the arm; he roared in pain, his momentum carrying him forward to collide with the acolyte, and they tumbled to the ground together, locked in a deadly embrace. Von struggled wildly, managing to grab his assailant by the throat, but the smaller man managed to land a blow to his injured arm, causing Von to lose his grip, screwing his eyes tight as he bellowed in agony.

When he opened them again, he was looking down the muzzle of the soldier's gun.


The Doctor ran his fingers through his blond hair, took a deep breath and turned to Byrnus, who stood next to him, fidgeting nervously.

"What's the status, Brother Byrnus?"

The grey-cloaked scientist checked his readouts. "The capacitors are holding with minimal energy loss, Doctor. Energy conduits are functioning within parameters. The solar projector is online and ready for deployment."

The Doctor considered the information for a moment, then nodded decisively.

"Very well," he declared, "It's now or never. Ready, Byrnus?"

Byrnus nodded. "Ready, Doctor."

"Good luck, everyone!" the Doctor cried, as he threw a series of switches with a flourish.


Von screwed his eyes closed, awaiting the blast that would send him to oblivion. It never came. Instead, he felt the ground beneath him begin to shake, almost imperceptibly at first, but rapidly building to a violent tremor. He opened his eyes; his assailant was looking around in confusion - he staggered to his feet, only to be knocked to the floor as the ground beneath them shifted violently.

"What's happening?" Rosa shouted, staggering to his side. All around them the fighting had ceased, citizens and soldiers alike struggling to stay upright as the ground heaved and rolled beneath them like a boiling sea. Von grabbed on to her, and they stood there, clinging to each other for dear life.

"Look!" Von shouted, pointing. A light was building to the east beyond the building, where the vast crater sat embedded into the shuddering earth, encircled by its eight towering arms. The light grew brighter and brighter, an inexplicable aurora that drew all eyes to it as it intensified, artificially illuminating the pre-dawn sky.

"I think it's the end!" shouted Von, holding Rosa tight. As he spoke, the top-most points of the eight towers burst into life, crackling and fizzing with barely contained orbs of energy, each burning with the intensity of a miniature sun. The air around the citizens became charged, static sparking between them as the hairs on the back of their necks stood on end. As the ground rumbled beneath them the air itself seemed to vibrate as a deep humming noise grew in volume, the vibration of sound and earth reverberating through them to their very cores, threatening to shake the flesh from their bones. People threw their hands up, covering their ears as the noise built to the limits of humanoid endurance, many falling to their knees and crying out in despair at the coming of the end, the fate of the Traken Union finally catching up with them.


The control room shook once more as the raw energy siphoned through it; the Doctor and Brother Byrnus clung onto the control desk, with Adric nearby, struggling to stay on his feet.

"The beam is stable, Doctor, but Towers Four and Seven are red-lining - we could lose them!" shouted Byrnus.

"I'll shift the balance of the energy flow," the Doctor replied, his hands flying across the controls, "that should stabilise them long enough."

"That'll throw the trajectory off!" Byrnus cried, an edge of panic in his voice.

"Well, we'll just have to recalculate!"

"There's no time! It took months for us to perfect the equations!"

The Doctor smiled. "I know a shortcut."


As the burning orbs of light grew to an unbearable brilliance, they suddenly erupted, one after the other generating a thunderous crack as the power discharged into the centre of the crater in a crackling arc of pure energy, the beams joining like spokes in a gigantic wheel. Noise and light reached a tumultuous crescendo, culminating in an ear-splitting boom as a colossal beam of pure white energy erupted into the sky, blasting the surrounding clouds away and blazing upwards to the heavens.


"Adric?"

The boy looked up from the monitor the Doctor had stationed him at but a few short minutes ago, after he had called him over and explained the mathematical task needed to get things back on line. "Yes, Doctor?"

"How are those equations coming along?"

"Almost there…" the boy shouted, squinting at the complex schematic flickering on his display. "Got it! I've recalculated the trajectory, so that the existing solar alignment is maintained - I'll feed the co-ordinates to your station."

The Doctor turned to Byrnus, smiling at the Serenite's amazed expression. "Always handy to have a maths genius on board, I find! Now, how is the solar projector holding up?"

Byrnus looked at his screen. "All systems online. Ready to deploy."

"Good." The Doctor tapped furiously at his keyboard as he cried: "Standby then, I'll just feed in Adric's data, a quick realignment to the beam frequency, and then…" he hesitated, glancing across the console one last time, before taking a deep breath. It was now, or never.

"Deploy!"


Outside, a massive sonic boom burst outwards from the crater, knocking anyone who had managed to stay on their feet immediately to the floor. The citizens lay where they fell, shielding their eyes from the blazing light as they looked up to see a dark, spherical object emerging from the crater, travelling up the central energy beam like a bullet from a gun. It shot heavenwards, starting to glow with heat as it span faster and faster, higher and higher until it was just a pinprick of molten light. It hung there momentarily, a glowing ember in the ether above, then suddenly the energy beam intensified, the tone of its deafening hum increasing in pitch as the beam narrowed and intensified, hurling all of its power skywards.

The citizens began to gasp in awe as the tiny glowing object above began to grow, seeming to feed off the narrowing energy stream as it absorbed its power, spinning at an ever-increasing rate until its mass and speed began to warp the space around it, the beam bending and wrapping around the orb like a ball of twine, increasing its girth and brilliance with each twist and turn.

Suddenly, the beam shut off, silence and stillness returning to Serenity with startling abruptness.

Rosa and Von lay together, eyes closed and breathless as their senses fought to readjust after the onslaught they had just endured. Rosa frowned as she felt an unfamiliar warmth on her upturned face, accompanied by a pleasant tingling sensation on her skin as soft light diffused through her closed eyelids. She tentatively opened her eyes.

"I - I don't believe it," gasped Von beside her, squinting up at the sky. He got to his feet, helping Rosa to hers as all around them people stared up in wonder.

High up above them, lighting up the pre-dawn sky, was a new, radiant sun.


"We've done it!" cried Byrnus jubilantly, "The Source is on line and operating perfectly!" He took the Doctor's hand, shaking it vigourously. "I can't thank you enough, Doctor… all would have been lost without you. The people of Serenity owe you a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid–"

"Yes, well - all that can wait, Brother Byrnus," the Time Lord interrupted, heaving a heavy sigh of relief, "Right now, you and I need to power down and decommission this facility so that it can never be used again." He hesitated, painfully aware that there was another, more urgent task that needed to completed. Turning to his companions, he called: "Adric! Tegan! Check the chamber!"

Adric had been knocked to the floor by the force of the sonic boom; at the Doctor's request he groggily got to his feet, and moved to the chamber door as quickly as his shaking limbs could carry him, closely followed by Tegan and Suren. The chamber was dark, filled with a swirling smoke which obscured its contents. Adric operated the lock and opened the door, coughing as the acrid fumes escaped and dissipated.

They cautiously entered the chamber. On the floor lay two crumpled forms, both motionless. Adric and Tegan rushed to the form on the left of the chamber, Suren to the one on the right.

"Nyssa? Are you alright?" Tegan took her friend's hand, her pale arm limp and lifeless.

Adric gently shook her shoulder. "Nyssa?" he said, looking at Tegan in concern as the young Trakenite remained worryingly unresponsive. A few moments later, a sudden groan caused them both to start; they looked down in relief to see Nyssa finally stirring, her head rolling as she gave a soft moan, her eyes opening briefly as she drifted between waking and unconsciousness.

"Thank goodness," said Tegan, "I thought the worst for a minute, there." She turned to Suren; the medic was examining Nyssa's older self, a frown on his youthful face. He felt Tegan's eyes on him, and looked up to meet her expectant gaze.

"Is she…?" Tegan asked hesitantly, unwilling to complete the sentence. Suren nodded, downcast, then reached down to gently close the old woman's eyes.

Adric got to his feet, a haunted look in his eyes. "I… I'll go and tell the Doctor," he stammered, heading towards the door. As he left, Tegan looked down at the old, broken body of her friend, choking back a sob. Suren moved over to her, putting his arms around her as she leaned into his shoulder, letting the tears flow.

"The Lady has returned to her people," he whispered, pulling her close. "She is finally at rest."


Adric approached the control desk outside the chamber to find Byrnus working there alone.

"The Doctor has gone outside," Byrnus said, noting the boy's approach. "He said he just needed some air." Adric nodded solemnly, and headed to the exit.

He found the Time Lord outside, stood some distance from the facility, away from the citizens, Fosters and Order soldiers who were all pointing and staring at the sky in wonder. The Doctor stood alone at the top of a small rise, hands in his pockets as the wind ruffled his fair hair. Adric slowly made his way over.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" the Doctor said, as his companion drew near. He nodded to the newly-made Source, shining in the clear blue sky above. Adric looked up, holding his hand up to shield his eyes. The rays felt warm on his palm.

"It is," replied Adric, before frowing. "Should it tingle like that?"

"It's a brand new Source, imbued with almost limitless power. It'll take some time to calibrate itself." The Doctor raised his hand, experimentally. "I find it a tad prickly, to be honest."

They lapsed into silence, each unwilling to broach the subject that they knew was coming. Finally, Adric took a deep breath, gaining courage to speak.

"Doctor…"

"I know." The Doctor interrupted before he could continue, then retreated into his usual stoicism, staring up at the clear sky with a clouded expression. He thought back to the events in the chamber, recalling the final moments he had spent sharing a lifetime of emotion with the older incarnation of the girl he had known but a few short weeks. The sadness he felt at her passing weighed heavy enough on his soul now, he thought - what would it be like in the future, when the bond of friendship and loyalty he had sensed in her came to fruition? Would the time they spent travelling together - however long that might be - always be shadowed by the foreknowledge of her death? Perhaps this was why his race always eschewed relationships with the rest of the universe, he reflected. Not for the first time, he felt a twinge of envy at the thought of an existence lived out in linear time.

"It was what she wanted," the Doctor said, breaking the silence once more. "We should be happy for her. I haven't known Nyssa - well, any of you, for that matter - for very long, but I do know that her desire to help, to make life better for people is what drives her on, after losing so much. And she's certainly achieved that here." He indicated the crowd of Serenites below, who had begun to dance and cheer, all thoughts of factions and conflict set aside, the ghosts of their troubled past exorcised. 'Along with some of my own,' the Doctor hoped, with the briefest hint of a smile. He put his arm around Adric's hunched shoulders.

"I think what we should learn from this," he said, steering Adric down the slope towards the entrance doors, "is to make the most of the time we have. Now, about that little chat we were having in the Penal Wing yesterday…"

"Doctor!" Adric flushed furiously. "I don't think now is the time!"

The Doctor laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "You're right," he said, "it can wait. Let's go and check on Nyssa, and then finish decommissioning this equipment. After all…" he looked up at the Source, slowly beginning to make its way across the sky.

"…We've got all the time in the world."

- THE END -