Tyro was thrown across the console room as the TARDIS buffeted around violently, the Rotor groaning loudly, just about drowning out the Time Lords shouts of combined fear and pain.
"I don't know what your complaining about!" She shouted to the machine, struggling to hold on to the console. "I'm the one that's just had his whole genetic structure rewritten!" In response, a red light started to flash on one of the console panels. "Oh." Tyro said sheepishly. "Automatic Power Cue. Right." He flicked the switch, and leaned in close to the rising Time Rotor. "Happy now?"
He groaned as another several banks of buttons lit up around the hexagonal console.
"There's only one of me!" Tyro snapped, as he started pressing buttons and turning levers. "And it's not exactly a smooth ride for me either you know!"
Eventually the screeching noise settled to the more familiar grinding noise Tyro was used to hearing from a TT Capsule. It was still a little loud, but he put that down to it being a rather old model.
"Happy now?" He asked with a smile, as the monitor set in to the console lit up with various read outs. "Now," he continued thoughtfully, trying to remember back to his TT flight classes "pre-flight checks complete, co-ordinates set for Sol 3." A wide smile spread over his new face.
He had dreamt for so many years of travelling to Earth, to take in the culture and see their history, and now it was going to happen. He knew of course, he would have to come back, someday, to put right whatever was happening here on Gallifrey, but that, he thought, was the beauty of a Time Machine. It didn't really matter how long he was gone for.
As the TARDIS prepared to dematerialise, something in the back of his mind made him think of Axelle. Maybe he should go and warn him first, he thought. He owed his mentor that at least. Throughout his life so far, Axelle had been the only real constant, the support he knew he could rely on, no matter how much their opinions differed sometimes. Tyro still remembered, as a young boy, how hard he had found it when Axelle had regenerated. Of course, the old Time Lord had changed bodies many times before, but to Tyro it was as if the man he had looked up to had gone forever, replaced by someone new. It didn't take long, however, for Tyro to take to his mentors' new form. His face and personality may have changed, but Axelle had proven many a time that he was still the same man he always had been. He couldn't just disappear. He had to go back, for Axelle, Lorendria, and maybe even Suress. He owed them a warning at least.
He turned towards the TARDIS doors, his mind made up, when another wave of pain hit. Bent over double, Tyro used the edge of the console to support himself, rising back to his feet moments later.
"That had better stop." He moaned. "Now, where was I?" He cocked his head slightly, and narrowed his eyes, trying to remember, before turning back to the console. "Oh that was it, Sol 3!"
The Archive Chamber was filled with the groaning of the TARDIS by the time the Archivist had returned.
"No!" He cursed, watching as the white cabinet faded away before his eyes. He couldn't believe it. In all of his years he had never seen even a Time Lord survive a direct hit from a staser. The boy had been dead, he knew it yet the TARDIS could not have taken off on its own.
Suddenly, the Archivist heard hurried footsteps from outside the chamber. He quickly composed himself, making sure his staser was once again hidden beneath his robes.
"Everything in order?" The Chancellery Guard asked, flanked by a peer, wearing an identical red uniform with a white trim, and a grey robed student.
"Oh course." The old Time Lord nodded, gesturing to the young man with the two guards. "Not neglecting your studies I hope?"
"No." He snapped back. "I'm,"
"He's shadowing us." The first guard interrupted. "He'll make a fine guard one day, will young Suress here."
"We heard a capsule." Suress stepped forward, staring straight at the Archivist, catching site of a flickering screen in the corner of his eye.
"What? Impossible."
"Dematerialising." He continued, unphased. "Unmistakeable."
"Well," The Archivist gave a sickly smile. "I am afraid this time it was mistakable. You were wrong."
"Suress!" The second guard snapped. "Show some respect. You do not question your superiors. I am very sorry." He bowed.
"No need." The Archivist replied. "Now, was there something else?"
"No." The first guard answered. "We will continue our patrol. Sorry for the intrusion."
"Not at all."
As he followed the two guards out, Suress turned back, his eyes fixed on the various screens around the room, all showing different rows of text and pictures. He recognised them immediately.
"Suress!" The guard called, hurrying him along. Suress obeyed, but not before glaring straight in to the old eyes of the Archivist. The Time Lord simply turned away, avoiding his gaze and deactivated the nearest monitor.
The Dromeian turned away, leaving the room, but knowing he would be back. Something wasn't right.
The TARDIS shuddered one final time as the Time Rotor came to rest and the console room stopped shaking, allowing Tyro to get his balance properly for the first time since the ship had dematerialised. He bit his lip slightly before activating the external scanner. He had never flown a TARDIS before, not outside of Gallifrey, and never on his own. He knew of fully experienced Time Lords who still hadn't mastered their capsules.
Therefore, it was to his own great surprise when the scanner showed him a large shopping center, or at least that was what he assumed it was, judging by pictures he had seen. He grinned, watching groups of humans scurry about, bags in hand.
"Better than I expected." He congratulated himself. "Thought for a minute there I was going to end up in a volcano.." He looked to the screen again, noticing the large amount of people wearing jeans and hoodies. "Mind you, could have been a better time period, something a bit, brighter." With that, the TARDIS shook slightly. "Ok, fine." He gave a large fake smile. "I'm on Earth. That's great, brightside. But I'm not wearing jeans."
"Stop crying!" The girl said, with compassion not anger, as she leant over the back of the buggy she was pushing. If anyone had taken the time to notice, which today it felt like no one would, they would have seen the bags under her eyes, and noticed the tell-tale split ends in her dark hair that revealed she hadn't been to a decent hairdresser in a while. The truth was, she just didn't care. There wasn't any time to care about that sort of thing anymore, not since Lucy had come along.
Alex loved her daughter to pieces, but she knew it was hard work taking care of a new born baby as a fully supportive couple, let alone coping on her own as she had been forced to. Her family had said it was selfish, taking a child that young away for a holiday, but Alex knew they both needed it. Lucy hadn't seen the best of her, and never would whilst she was running around trying to make ends meat and provide for them both.
"Just need to get the passport photos." She cooed over the back of the pushchair. "Then it's back home, I promise."
She made her way to the back wall, avoiding the people who seemed to be walking straight at her on purpose, aiming for the row of photo booths. It was then she stopped in her tracks. It wasn't normal for her to notice people whilst out shopping, she was normally too busy to, but they again it wasn't normal for someone to step out of a photo booth wearing a full length golden cloak.
"So it does work." He beamed, looking over the row of photo booths, all showing multiple identical pictures of a smiling woman. "Perfectly in fact." He was impressed. Tyro, like most Time Lords had never seen a Chameleon Circuit working properly. On Gallifrey, there was very little for a TARDIS to disguise itself as, unlike here on Earth. He looked from a distance at the blue curtain that was now the door to his new ship, and tried not to relate it to the large white doors he had exited through moments earlier.
"More important things to worry about." He said to himself. "Like changing these clothes. People staring." He paused. "Although I am talking to myself."
Tyros' attention was soon drawn away however, when he caught sight of a large shop across the way from him, large red signs saying "SALE" and mannequins in windows. He frowned slightly, before talking himself round.
"I'm sure they don't just sell jeans."
"Where's Tyro?" Suress demanded, striding in to the Archive Chamber.
"I don't know, my boy." The Archivist replied. "What's wrong, heard another TT capsule have we?"
"You know what I'm talking about." Suress shouted, walking closer to where the old man sat. "I saw those screens. All databank entries on Earth."
"I fail to see your point." The Archivist sneered. "Your young friend in not he only one with interest in that small insignificant planet you know. I was researching."
"On every screen?" The junior Time Lord countered. "Tyro's the only one sad enough to do that."
"You give young Tyronakandra too much credit. He is by no means the first Time Lord to master the absorption of data from multiple sources using a slight psychic trance."
Suress looked the old man straight in the eyes, which somehow seemed to have undertaken a much more sinister look to them.
"You've got me there." He admitted. "But your forgetting that I'm training with the Chancellery Guard."
"Although I admire your ambition, if longing to be a lowly guard can be called that, I fail to see what that has to do with this conversation."
Suress held back his anger at the insult.
"And you also failed to realise that it means I have access to the Archive Databank. I know for a fact that Tyro accessed all of those files."
"Perhaps he did." The Archivist responded, trying to anticipate the young Time Lords next move. It was too early to play his trump card yet, he knew that. "He must have left before I arrived. A simple explanation I'm sure."
"As did the TARDIS I suppose? The one that was on record as being stored in this room?"
"Oh, back to that again?" He snapped. "Why don't you spare us both this mundane conversation and accuse me of whatever it is you think I have done?"
"Well." Suress stuttered, suddenly on the back foot. "I know something isn't right here!" He shouted, feeling something snap inside his head. "No one has seen Tyro since he accessed these files!"
"So I must have had something to do with it?" The Archivist replied calmly. "What an angry young man you are, Suress. Why is that, I wonder?" He continued, rising to his feet. "Perhaps it's because you know that all of your peers are soaring above you, conducting research in to temporal physics?" He walked slowly around Suress, circling him like a vulture. "Or perhaps because you believe you are destined to walk these hallways in one of those wretched uniforms for the rest of your days?"
He came face to face with Suress once more, and leant toward him. The young Time Lord remained still, his fists clenched with anger and fear.
"Or maybe," The Archivist whispered in to his ear, "it's because you know that, unlike me, you will never grow to be old?"
Shocked, Suress swept backwards, his eyes locked on the cruel twisted smile on the old mans' face.
"How do you know that?" He demanded, lunging towards the Archivst. The Time Lord did not react, however, but held out a single arm, palm facing outwards, that stopped Suress in his tracks.
"I have become known amongst our people as something as a…" he searched for the word. "Confidant. Particularly for the young." He placed a hand on Suress' shoulder, who violently shrugged it away. "It is a great burden that is place on you all." He said sadly, in such a tone that Suress believed his regret. "I try to help where I can, to share that burden. Listen when no one else can."
Suress was beginning to calm down now, his breathing still deep, but he remained still as the Archivist placed an arm around his shoulder once more.
"And what's that got to do with me? With Tyro?"
"Come with me," The Archivist said softly, a thin smile spreading over his wrinkled face. "and I will explain everything."
"No! No! No!" Tyro shouted rapidly, throwing hanger after hanger of clothing from the rail and on to a pile on the floor behind him. If the Time Lord had been worried about people staring before, it was a good thing he was too busy concentrating on clothes to notice the various groups of people pointing and whispering in his direction.
Eventually a member of staff, dressed in a navy blue uniform, walked towards him, encouraged by her colleagues. She rolled her eyes as she looked back at them. She was part time, just like them. How come she always had to deal with the weirdos.
"Excuse me sir?" She said politely, standing what she felt to be a safe distance away. There was no response.
"Erm, sir? Excuse me?" She repeated a bit louder this time. After a few seconds the young robed man shot around on the spot, beaming at her.
"You mean me?" He emphasised, pointing at his own chest."
"Er, yes." She hesitated, nervously playing with her blonde hair.
"Sorry." He replied. "Never been called Sir before." He stopped to think about it. "I think I kind of like it."
"Right." She continued, determined to stay polite. She didn't need another warning. "Well, can I help you?"
Tyro simply looked straight back at her, eyes wide.
"Can I help you, sir?" She repeated, beginning to wish she hadn't volunteered for this.
He smiled once again, looking around at the pile of clothes that surrounded him.
"Could probably use some help, yeah." He nodded.
"Well, we offer a personal shopper service, I can.."
"Great!" He exclaimed, taking hold of the surprised assistants arm. "Just what I need."
"But I don't.." She started, before being cut off again.
"Nonsense!" Tyro said, stepping carefully from the wreckage of discard clothes. "You'll be perfect. I'm open to suggestions." He paused, a serious look appearing over his face. "But under any circumstances, no matter how flattering they are, I'm not wearing jeans."
"Tyro was in the Archive Chamber, I will admit that." The Archivist explained to Suress, who was now seated in the Archivist's quarters. As he had expected, the room was full of data spools, and even the occasion book.
"Then where did he go?" Suress asked, slightly dumbfounded. He had entered the Archive Chamber with a plan, or at least part of one, but when that had been exhausted the Time Lord didn't know quite which path to take next.
"You were right on that front to." The Archivist smiled. "Very observant."
"You mean?"
"Yes Suress." The old man nodded solemnly. "He stole that TARDIS, the type 51. It seems young Tyroankandra has gone renegade.
"I don't believe it." Suress snapped, shooting to his feet.
"You don't want to believe it." The Archivist corrected. "Neither do I, but I have proof."
He walked over to a storage unit mounted on one of the walls, his back to Suress.
"The databank files he had open, I saw them change in front of my eyes."
"What?"
"We all know he was obsessed with Earth history." The Archivist continued. "Perhaps it had begun to turn him insane, it wasn't enough to just read about it anymore. He wanted to live it."
"But Tyro wouldn't start changing things!" Suress replied, defending his friend. "He always said our power over time should never be used for that."
"I'm sure even the Master said that once." The senior Time Lord said, turning back to face Suress. "But power corrupts. Now Tyroankandra has started to rewrite history, and I don't know where he will stop."
There were a few moments of silence as Suress tried to take in what he was hearing.
"Then inform the High Council!" He said suddenly. "They will bring him back."
"I can't do that. " He stared straight at Suress. "You are young, you haven't seen the things I have seen. Young Time Lords atomised even for merely using the gift of Time Travel to change history in a small way. They would not stand for this."
"But, the Doctor!" Suress argued.
"The Doctor is only still alive because the Time Lords know they can use him. The Master too. Young Tyroankandra would not be lucky. No, I cannot tell them."
"Then what do we do?" The dark haired Time Lord snapped. "And what's this go to do with me?"
"We must find Tyroankandra." The Archivist stated, emotionless. "And I cannot leave Gallifrey, so it is up to you. You must find him and stop him, immediately."
"Why would I do that? I don't want to see him executed!"
"Think about it Suress." The Archivist said quietly, stepping closer. "If your friend can re-write history, then so can we." He gave his sickly grin. "I can save you. Bring Tyrankandra back to me, and you will see many more than two lives."
A few minutes passed as the two Time Lords stood in silence, the proposal repeating in Suress' head. He knew he could never bring himself to let Tyro be executed, but maybe it didn't have to be that way. Maybe Tyro had a reasonable explanation, or if not he was sure Axelle would step in. He wouldn't let the Time Lords sentence his greatest student to death. That was it, his mind was made up.
"I'll do it." Suress nodded.
"I knew you would see sense." The Archivist said with a smile, as he reached in to his robes and stabbed the young Time Lord straight through his first heart.