Gallifrey, present-day

"People die in wars," Jenny said. "The people on your Collection couldn't blame you for that."

"I was the easiest target," Braxiatel replied. "They needed a way to vent their anger. And they would scarcely begin shouting at a Dalek, now, would they?"

Jenny leaned back in her chair. "And you, of course, actually were taking part in the war. To a certain extent."

Braxiatel didn't answer this.

"And you did have a plan you were putting together, in the background," Jenny continued. "Contacting your other selves — both past-selves and alternate-selves — to put it in place."

"I had to save the Time Lords," Braxiatel replied, in a quiet voice.

Worst part of it was… he hadn't.

He'd failed.

"Let me guess," Jenny said. "At some point, your team on the Collection got wise to your scheming, and refused to go on your digs and excavations. So you just contacted a younger-self… and had him send his younger-team off to dig the artifacts up in your own past."

Braxiatel was quiet for a long time.

Then, "Quite."

Jenny gave a little laugh. "Clever."

"I did use the Collection to try to help people," Braxiatel insisted. "Not just preserving cultures, but… assisting the survivors. Many worlds were wiped out during the battles. Only a handful of refugees survived."

The Braxiatel Collection

"Mayday, mayday!" came the call through the radio. "Is anyone out there? We are the only survivors of the planet Triu, and are being pursued by Dalek warships. We require safety and shelter! I repeat! We require safety and shelter!"

Braxiatel had picked up their distress call.

Pondered over it, thinking through the implications of letting them land… when Dalek patrols were after them.

"No, no, that won't do," Braxiatel muttered. He punched some buttons on the equipment in front of him. "If you land, the Daleks will find this place. And we can't have that."

He remotely hacked into the controls of their ship.

"But if it appears you've crashed in some way so there could be no survivors," Braxiatel continued, changing around the trajectories in their nav-computer, "then they'll be no reason to follow you down here."

Of course… it was a ruse. There would be survivors.

But Braxiatel could be clever enough to make it look like there were none.

Not everyone on the Collection was happy about the arrangement.

"This is the third ship he's crashed here this week!" Bev complained. "The Collection can't support this many people. We're getting low on supplies."

"And it's only a matter of time before the Daleks find out," Adrien agreed, "and this planetoid becomes the next battlefield in his Time War."

Benny shared her meal with a child refugee. "We can't just… turn them away!" She watched as the child ate the food with shaking hands. Eyes wide and terrified. "Look at them, Adrien! They have nowhere else to go! They were lucky to escape with their lives."

"He isn't doing it for their benefit," Bev replied. She looked out, among the crowd. At Braxiatel, charming his way through the refugees, discussing matters with them in hushed voices. "He's gathering intelligence. For his plan."

"Could be he set up this war in the first place," Adrien agreed. "Manipulated the timelines, so he could get something out of it, for himself."

"That's rubbish," said Benny, but she didn't sound so sure of herself.

"It wouldn't be the first time," Adrien reminded her. "The Draconians and the Mim? The Dynadum? The…?"

"All right, you made your point," Benny cut in, sharply. She stared out, at the refugees around her. "But it was an alternate-Braxiatel. I can't believe that this Braxiatel would…"

She trailed off.

Then sighed again.

"I can believe it," Benny corrected. "I just don't want to."

Gallifrey, present-day

"Of course, the others believed I was saving refugees just to gather intelligence," Braxiatel told Jenny.

"Which you were," Jenny put in.

"Which I was," Braxiatel conceded. "But… I also wanted to help these people! I thought that maybe, in a universe falling apart, I could do some good."

Jenny shook her head. "But why didn't the other people on the Collection believe you?" she asked. "You said you were a different Braxiatel. You'd proved it."

Braxiatel went very quiet.

And Jenny worked it out.

"You were communicating with the alternate version of Braxiatel," said Jenny. "To put your plan into action."

"There was a version of myself who hurt those people very badly," Braxiatel conceded. "Some he killed. Others he simply… wiped from history, as though they never existed." He cleared his throat. "I'd heard all of that, of course, beforehand. But…"

He paused.

Then, in a quieter voice, "…perhaps, now, I understand why he did it."

"You feel responsible," Jenny guessed. "Guilty."

Braxiatel looked up at her. His eyes cold, and dark. "We do things in war, Jenny, that we're not proud of," he said. "We do them because we have to. We do them to survive."

Jenny said nothing.

"I never wanted to hurt innocent people," Braxiatel continued. "Jason Cane. Miss Jones. The war between the Draconians and the Mim! I didn't kill them, I didn't start his wars or put in place his schemes… but I knew, when I told him what I needed him to do to save the Time Lords — the measures he'd go to, in order to accomplish it. I'd already witnessed the consequences of his actions. Perhaps I should have stopped it. Perhaps I should have abandoned the plan and changed history and made all those people live again! But… the Time War…"

His eyes fixed into the distance.

"If you could have seen its destruction," Braxiatel whispered, "how it tore the universe apart, day by day, across all of time and space… you'd do everything you could to end it, too."

Jenny didn't know how to answer this.

Just nodded.

"I think… I would," she agreed.

The Braxiatel Collection

"…a small fragment of a refined, time-active Dalekanium rod," Romana was explaining to Braxiatel, during one of her trips to the Collection. "Placed just here." She pointed to the four dimensional star-map. It had changed so much, in such a short time. The battles in the Time War destroying bits of the universe and changing the time-space continuum in ways that no one could have predicted. "Bring us that, and we might be able to counter their latest assault on Minoricacia."

She started to fold up her map, but Braxiatel put a hand on hers.

"It's not going well, is it?" Braxiatel asked.

Romana took a few deep breaths, before she could answer. Her eyes looked like they'd seen too much. Her hands were shaking.

"The fall of the Scaxler System put them into a position of strength," said Romana. "And our attempts to destroy their mining and slave planets haven't been as successful as we'd hoped. They gained too much intelligence and too much ground at the very beginning of the war — with the Ma'erissa infiltration weapons, and the Wyorin."

"I thought you'd dealt with those problems," said Braxiatel.

"Too little too late," said Romana. "With the Doctor on our side, we've been able to win some victories. Gain some hope. But it's not enough. We need to take… more drastic action."

"Drastic…?"

Romana looked up, and met his eyes. "The High Council has voted to resurrection Lord Rassilon."

For a few long minutes, there was utter silence between them.

As the full news of this… sunk in.

"I see." Braxiatel stepped aside, nodding, slowly. "That is certainly drastic."

Romana gathered up the map, and tucked it away. Turning back to her TARDIS. "I have to go."

Braxiatel caught her by the arm.

She glanced back at him.

"And… you?" Braxiatel checked.

"Me?" Romana said, yanking her arm away from him. She composed herself, so she seemed as steady and commanding as ever. "I spoke up in favor of his resurrection. Publicly."

"After the business with Zagreus," Braxiatel reminded her, "you are scarcely Rassilon's favorite person."

"Why else do you think I supported the action so vigorously?" Romana replied.

Ah.

It all made sense, now.

"However much the Doctor chooses to kick up a fuss," Romana continued, "the Time Lords will resurrect Rassilon. He's the greatest military leader Gallifrey's ever had, and he defeated some of the most powerful evils from the Dark Times. His resurrection was never in doubt."

"And you knew, if you spoke out against it, that Rassilon would kill you the second he returned," Braxiatel muttered. "He'd have to. Publicly — make an example of you. But… if you were in favor of his resurrection…"

Romana had always been clever.

He should never have been in doubt that she'd have some brilliant plan.

"We're already short on Time Lords," said Romana. "It'd make no sense for him to kill off a supporter." She shot Braxiatel a proud smile. "I don't doubt he'll still try to dispose of me, somehow. But I'll make sure that doing so is difficult for him."

"I'm certain you will," said Braxiatel.

Gallifrey, present-day

"So you planned to sit out the war, until the last minute," Jenny clarified, "then swoop in with some master-plan, and save everyone." She folded her arms on the table. "But that's not what happened. You did formally join the War."

Braxiatel paused.

Then, "Eventually."

"Why?" said Jenny. "What changed things?"

"Rassilon did."

Jenny absorbed this, silently.

"He was determined to win the War," said Braxiatel. "Up to that point, most — but not all — Time Lords were fighting in the War. But a few were like me, and had chosen to stay out of it. Some were renegades, such as the Rani, who didn't care whether Gallifrey fell. Some had simply fled in terror, after their first battle. Hidden away in time and space."

"But not after that point?" Jenny asked.

"Rassilon decided that, to win this war, we needed every Gallifreyan," Braxiatel said. "All the renegades. All those who'd run away. Everyone who'd stayed out of the conflict. Rassilon found them all. And… 'reminded' them… of their duty to Gallifrey."

"You mean he tracked you all down and marched all of you back to Gallifrey at gunpoint?" Jenny clarified.

Braxiatel cleared his throat.

"I came of my own free will," Braxiatel said. "Let's just… leave it at that."