Gallifrey, during the Time War

"…is madness, Romana!" the Doctor was shouting. "Complete and utter madness!"

"And I suppose you'd rather let the Daleks take that planet," said Romana, "and use it as a stepping stone to conquer the rest of the Persu System?"

"There are people on that planet!" the Doctor retorted. "Innocents, who have nothing to do with this! And you just want to… wipe them out?!"

"That's Rassilon's strategy," Romana agreed. "And I concur."

"You're as mad as he is!" the Doctor shouted.

Braxiatel could hear them bickering, from several hallways down. Their arguments had grown louder and more frequent, as the War continued. And the Daleks advanced further and further towards Gallifrey.

"Since Rassilon returned, we've actually begun to hold our own against the Daleks!" Romana snapped.

"And you think that's enough for him?" the Doctor slammed his hands down. "Romana, even if he does defeat the Daleks, we'll just be swapping one group of megalomaniac supremacists for another. If you hadn't noticed, he wants to reshape the universe to look like him!"

"And it's talk like that which does nothing but stir up needless dissent and factionalism," Romana replied. "Rassilon is right, Doctor. If we don't stand unified, Gallifrey will fall."

A second of silence.

Then…

"Don't call me that," the Doctor said. Throwing open the door to her office. "Not anymore."

"It's either Doctor, or Fred," Romana retorted, emerging behind him and crossing her arms.

"Oh, because that's original," the Doctor said, throwing his arms up into the air. "I don't know what to do with you, Romana. You've thrown out everything you ever believed in."

"I'm defending Gallifrey," Romana said.

"By demanding the sacrifice of everyone who gets in Rassilon's way?!" The Doctor turned away, in disgust. "I'm not standing for it, Romana. You should be ashamed."

The moment he turned away, a little smile flickered across Romana's face.

As she caught Braxiatel's eye.

"Always follows his conscience," she mouthed.

Before turning back into her office, and shutting the door.

Leaving Braxiatel to marvel over her cleverness. Really, quite brilliant. Romana knew that, if she denounced Rassilon's plans publicly, she would only bring the axe down on her own neck. But… if she defended them to everyone… even the Doctor…

The Doctor turned.

And noticed Braxiatel.

"Oh, it's you," said the Doctor. "Don't tell me you've gone mad, too."

"I suppose that might depend on which school of philosophy you adhere to," Braxiatel replied. "And what attitude they have concerning—"

"Good enough for me," the Doctor interrupted. He ran past Braxiatel, grabbing him up by the wrist. "Come on. We're rescuing the people on that planet — before Rassilon has a chance to send in the battle TARDISes."

Gallifrey, present-day

"There was a planet, Huyula," Braxiatel told Jenny. "It was of strategic importance to the Daleks. We'd been maintaining a tentative grip over the planet, but our grip was slipping. Rassilon had decided that the best thing to do… was destroy the planet before the Daleks could get their hands on it. A surprise attack, no warning. And no… evacuation."

Jenny stared at him. "But that's immoral!" she insisted. "It's barbaric!"

"It's war, Jenny," said Braxiatel. "You've seen wars, before. You know what happens."

Jenny did.

But she clearly didn't like it.

"Think of the Cyberwars, in the Tiberion Spiral Galaxy," Braxiatel said. "Or the Datrantine Wars, in the outer Kolthu Cluster. Even the philosopher Bartel on Sirus 8 said that morals, in war, are like…"

"I was born in a war," Jenny cut in. "Everyone told me that sacrifices needed to be made, and that to stop fighting meant death for everyone. Turned out, the war had only been going on for seven days. And so many people had died, that no one remembered what they were fighting for!"

Braxiatel said nothing.

"Maybe sometimes, there needs to be someone who says the things we don't want to hear," Jenny argued. "Maybe that's better for everyone."

"You do take after him," Braxiatel remarked. "Quite strongly, it seems."

Jenny straightened in her seat. "I consider that a compliment." She leaned forwards. "So go on. You heard Romana and Dad fighting over the destruction of Huyula. And then what?"

"He took me with him," said Braxiatel. "To evacuate the planet. He was… well…" Braxiatel thought a moment. Trying to put this right. "It's funny, with those you know very well but lose touch with. In some ways, they're very different. In others… just the same."

The Doctor's TARDIS, during the Time War

"So this is the TARDIS you chose to steal," Braxiatel remarked, as they headed towards the planet. He shook his head. "You know, I did make sure there was a fully functional Type 60 in the TARDIS bays, ready and waiting for you and Susan to make your escape."

"Oh, everyone's a critic," the Doctor complained. Pointed to the console. "Hold that bottle-cap down. Gravitic stabilizers."

Sure enough, the gravitic stabilizer buttons had been replaced by bottle-caps.

And, apparently, were broken to the point that they required physical contact at all times, in order to work, properly.

"Where are the compensation relays?" Braxiatel asked, holding the gravitic stabilizers in place. "Your temporal drift buffers feel like they're on the blink."

The Doctor gave him a blank stare.

"Oh dear," Braxiatel said. "Don't tell me you've never thought to set—"

"My TARDIS, my rules," the Doctor cut in, sharply. Then, as if to prove it, grabbed up a mallet and clunked it down on the controls — hard. Making sparks fly everywhere. "No more Big Braxiatel showing Little Thete what's what, now."

"Yes," Braxiatel muttered. "Although, technically, it's not your TARDIS — you stole it. With my help. And… come to think of it, I don't recall you ever passing the pilot's license test, to fly…"

The Doctor interrupted him by crashing the mallet down onto the central console, again. Making the whole thing light up in sparks.

"Would you please stop that?" Braxiatel demanded. "Unless you wish us to perish before we arrive."

"Can't," the Doctor explained. Hitting the console again, making the TARDIS zig-zag out of control. "Trying to run a blockade. Best way for it!"

Another smash.

And the whole TARDIS buckled.

"By taking down the shielding and all the defenses?" Braxiatel cried. Struggling to remain on his feet. "Listen, I've run more blockades than you've had hot dinners. And this is not the way to go about…!"

Smash!

Crunch!

And Braxiatel nearly tumbled to the ground, under the force of the jolt that followed.

"How about you worry less about me piloting my rather incredible ship," the Doctor told him, "and concern yourself with trying to stop your girlfriend from going completely mad."

Braxiatel did a double-take.

Nearly lost his grip on the gravitic stabilizers.

"I beg your pardon?" Braxiatel said. "Are you implying something?"

"Oh, don't be like that," the Doctor groaned. "I traveled with Ian and Barbara for years. I can recognize the signs." He switched the controls over to manual, then kicked the underside of the console. "You joined the War for her, didn't you?"

"I'm certain I have no idea what you're talking about," Braxiatel maintained. He threw up his hands, in irritation. "And furthermore…!"

The Doctor lunged for the gravitic stabilizers. "Don't let go of…!"

Too late.

As they crashed down to the planet.

Gallifrey, present-day

Jenny couldn't stop cracking up, as she heard Braxiatel describe the dialogue between himself and the Doctor, onboard the Doctor's TARDIS.

"And you say I sound like my dad!" Jenny said. "You should see what happens when you get me and my sister together. We sound just like that!"

Braxiatel smiled, and nodded.

Carefully omitting, from his summary of the story, the part of their conversation that had concerned Romana.

"We crashed onto the planet," said Braxiatel. "There was a small garrison, there. Overwhelmed by a swarm of Daleks. It was clear why the planet had been slated for demolition — there was no chance. For anyone."

"But you saved all the people, right?" Jenny asked.

Braxiatel said nothing.

"Braxiatel?"

"We… did what we could," said Braxiatel. Then, with a sigh, "We arrived too late. To be honest… there wasn't much we could do."

Perseus Sentrus, during the Time War

They didn't go straight back to Gallifrey, once they were done.

They stopped off on a planet the Doctor knew. Perseus Sentrus. And took a little time off, so they could absorb what had just happened.

All the people they'd failed to save.

What they'd seen the Daleks do.

What they'd seen their own people do.

"The longer this war goes on," the Doctor said, sitting down on the ground, "the more… I just want it to end."

His face was draped in shadows.

And he looked very old. Very tired. Very weary and worn out.

"Even if the Daleks win," the Doctor said. "Even if we all die together, Daleks and Time Lords alike. I just… want it over." He paused. Then, "No. I want it never to have started, at all."

For a few seconds, neither said anything.

Both staring up at the stars, now so unfamiliar after the Time War had changed the night sky.

"Perhaps," Braxiatel ventured, "you may get your wish."

The Doctor snapped his head around. Suddenly animated. "What?"

Braxiatel said nothing.

Just shrugged.

"You have a plan," the Doctor realized. Then laughed. "Oh, of course you do. That's why you stayed out of the War! So you could swoop in at the last minute with some masterplan. That'd be very you."

Braxiatel remained silent.

And the Doctor's enthusiasm dropped, a touch. "And since you're not telling me the plan," the Doctor continued, "I can only assume… you've done something I wouldn't like, in order to put that plan into place."

"It's not finished, yet," said Braxiatel… specifically avoiding his question. "I've been distracted, lately. It's difficult to organize all the bits of it. I need… more time."

"In a Time War," said the Doctor, "that's in short supply."

"Quite."

They stared up at the night sky.

Saying nothing, for a long moment.

Then the Doctor got back to his feet. His eyes very old and very tired.

"I'm sick of this war," he told Braxiatel, heading back to his ship. "I'm sick of letting people die. Whatever you've done, whatever you still have to do… so long as it ends the War, then I'm for it. You have my full support."

Braxiatel thought of all the people he'd left, on the Collection.

The stories they'd told him, about the alternate-Braxiatel.

The one he was still communicating with, on a regular basis. Trying to manipulate, to make sure his own plans would go perfectly.

To save Gallifrey.

Save the Time Lords.

Stop the War.

"Even if I've…?" Braxiatel began.

"Yes," the Doctor cut in. Opened the door to his ship, and stepped inside. "And please don't tell me more. I don't want to know."