My thanks to my friend Mountain King for letting me borrow a character. His story An Uninvited Guest's brilliant and worth the read. PS. I had to repost this because of an error. Sorry. Many thanks to Marcus S. Lazarus for pointing this out.

Two More and an Anniversary.

The Corsair sat in his TARDIS as his timeship travelled sluggishly through the vortex. It had taken the Time Lord longer than he'd thought in repairing his ship, but he'd managed it. The Corsair had no idea how long it had taken, which seemed strange because of his temporal senses. Clearly the rift dampened his ability to perceive time. When the TARDIS left the temporal pocket, the Corsair discovered that the Eye of Harmony had definitely gone, but he could still hear voices, maybe some of his friends were still alive. He hoped so.

As the TARDIS travelled through the vortex wormhole, powered by the battered warp engines, the Corsair noticed that the main space time element was losing power. The TARDIS had lost a lot of power leaving the planet and the temporal pocket, no matter how good the Dalek technology was, and the Corsair knew the TARDIS couldn't last forever. It took a lot of power to travel in time, and the TARDIS was having enough trouble staying inside the vortex as it was, and the vortex wasn't exactly wonderful at the moment; the TARDIS was being buffeted from side to side, reminding the Corsair vividly of the crash on the planet. The Corsair thought for a moment, and then set the controls for Earth, Cardiff. If he could siphon enough energy from the rift then he could travel to where he could hear the voices, he'd already thought of using the remaining energy his TARDIS had to make the trip, but there wasn't enough. The Corsair, like other Time Lords before the Time War, hadn't really concerned themselves with fuel; the power source on Gallifrey had been more than enough for their needs, but with the Eye gone then they needed the best equivalent. Rift energy wasn't the best, but it was certainly closer to the sort of energy the Eye had generated before the fall of the Time Lords. As the TARDIS made the shaky journey, using the last reserves, the Corsair closed his eyes and focused on the voices he could hear. There weren't many of them, and the Corsair sighed.

" Oh Doctor, what did you do?" He whispered sadly.

The Corsair was certain that his old friend had had something to do with the destruction of Gallifrey because he was that kind of person, but the Corsair didn't, couldn't, believe that the Doctor would do something like that unless he needed to. Walking around the console for lack of anything better to do even though his ship needed the rest, the Corsair thought about the final days of the Time war, how his people had become monsters and fulfilled their dangerous potential. " There should've been other ways. Damn you Doctor, damn you Rassilon for forcing him to make that choice!" The Corsair shouted as his mind focused on the remaining Time Lords. There weren't many, but some. That was better than nothing, he thought to himself bitterly. Oh, he didn't hate the Doctor, he just hated the choice he'd made. Just like he hated the people who'd forced him into the position in the first place.

As the Corsair's TARDIS carried on to Earth, carrying the Corsair, there was a massive bump which threw the Corsair across the room where he made the acquaintance with the wall. " Ow!" The Corsair hissed. He cursed when he saw his TARDIS console, already under severe stress, convulse with agony.


The object which collided with the Corsair's TARDIS was another TARDIS that just appeared from no-where. Inside the other TARDIS, a tall grey haired Time lord wearing a more serviceable version of Time lord robes, worked furiously at the controls. This was the Scholar, a Time Lord with a mindset similar and yet different from that of the Priest. The Scholar gritted his teeth and cursed, then he nodded when he realised what had happened.

" Another TARDIS, well I'm glad I'm not the last." That statement showed that the Scholar was aware of the lack of Time Lord voices.


In the Corsair's TARDIS, the Corsair worked furiously at the controls, and was delighted when the TARDIS righted itself, and he knew that the other Time Lord had done it; his own TARDIS could've done it if she had the power, but it was clear the other TARDIS had energy to spare. He checked the controls and displays as they scanned the other TARDIS. It was a Mark 8 TARDIS, one of the most advanced models. The Corsair had a brainwave and checked the dimensional frequency, and adjusted his own ship's inner dimension to match that of the other TARDIS. That done, the Corsair reached for the controls...

The Scholar's head shot up the moment he heard the sound of a relative dimensional stabiliser, and his eyes widened when he saw the TARDIS that materalised in his own console room. Then his eyes narrowed at the other's lack of etiquette; it was astoundingly rude when people barged in without invitations.

The door opened, and a tall and strapping Time lord stepped out with handsome and roguish features. Their minds touched and the Corsair shook his head, " Hello, Scholar."

" Corsair," The Scholar replied without warmth, and the Corsair sighed.

The Scholar was, well, exactly as the name described him to be, and looking around the Time lords TARDIS, the Corsair could see at once that the name was well deserved. The Scholar's TARDIS was that of an old library with shelves stacked with books, data and holo crystals, scrolls of parchment, paper and plastic. There were pieces of object d'art around the room here and there, but aside from them and the ornamental clocks and pocket watches mounted on the walls of the gaslit TARDIS the room was that of a library.

" It suits him," Corsair thought to himself; the console room lacked the warmth of a library and instead channeled the coldness of the Scholar. The Corsair knew that the other Time lord had no love for renegades like himself and the Doctor, but the Corsair was delighted he was still alive. Even if the Scholar made it clear how low his opinion of Time lords like the Corsair was, the Corsair certainly wasn't going to walk away from the other. But he was worried.

The Scholar's disdain for renegade Time lords was well known; the number of messes the High council had sent him to clean up was longer than the lifespans the Corsair had lived so far, but usually the Scholar ignored the other Time lords. Sometimes he himself intervened when he had good cause and reason. The incident with the Human temporal sensor fiasco sprang to mind, but then again any other Time Lord would've done the same and stopped the Human's mistake, but the Corsair wanted answers.

" Where have you been?" He asked, folding his arms. " The High council sent a summons throughout the universe."

The Scholar cocked his head, his look of disdain displaced by anxiety for his people and his world. " I don't know what you're talking about. I've been travelling in the multiverse and collecting books for my collections. Then the walls of reality closed. I could ask you what happened?" The Scholar added his own question.

Now the Corsair was understanding what'd happened; the Scholar had been travelling in a different reality when the order for the walls of reality to be shut down came through. But how did he get back? A dimensional rift, a rupture...what?

" It's a long story," The Corsair replied finally. " Tell me how you got back when the walls were closed."

The Scholar wasn't giving in yet, his curiosity and the Corsair's statements were making him more apprehensive than he already was. The Scholar already knew something bad had happened back home; the loss of the Eye of Harmony, the destabilisation of the time vortex, the lack of voices, the way the Corsair was speaking...it was obvious something bad had happened, but the Scholar wanted answers.

" I had a dimension divider," The Scholar stepped to the side, gesturing to the console with an outstretched arm, and the Corsair saw mounted on the top of the master control panel a spherical device. The Corsair nodded in comprehension; if the walls closed then a dimension divider would certainly come in handy for the opening of a CVE.

" Where did you get one?" Corsair asked curiously. " Those things are usually locked inside a vault that could only be locked by a member of the High Council."

The Scholar smirked smugly, " My cousin sits on the Council. He had the necessary contacts and he was able to procure one for me." The smirk vanished from the Scholar's face. " You still haven't told me what's happened to Gallifrey,"

The Corsair closed his eyes, paused and then reopened them. The Scholar was astounded by the grief and the pain on the face of his fellow Time Lord. Like most, the Scholar was aware, more than aware, of the laid back reputation of the Corsair, to see him like this was an unprecedented event.

" Let's get our ships to Earth and to the Cardiff rift," The Corsair suggested, hoping the other Time Lord had enough sense not to press the issue. The Corsair carried on, pointing out the obvious before the Scholar could argue, " In case you've forgotten, our TARDISes are drained, yours by crossing the dimensional barriers without a proper portal, mine because I escaped from a temporal pocket. The last thing we need is our TARDISes to be stranded here."

The Scholar was about to argue when he caught the look in the Corsair's eyes. He accepted, realising the Corsair was right even though he didn't want to admit it.


It was a long way to Earth. Both TARDISes had lost a lot of energy during the collision, and it was nightfall when they arrived on the site of the Cardiff rift. Connecting the two TARDISes to the rift took a bit of time, but luckily the two had had the foresight to prepare their ships. When they continually refueled then it would be easier and speedier. But for now the job would take two or three days. The Scholar was alright with that, he had questions and the Corsair had the answers.

When their ships were prepared for refueling, the Scholar led the Corsair into a lounge inside his TARDIS. Once they'd both gotten comfortable, the Scholar began his interrogation.

" What happened?" He asked coldly.

The Corsair winced, the words hitting him like a whip. " There was a war, a Time war. The Last Great Time War." He added sarcastically. " A war between the Daleks and the Time Lords, the whole of creation at stake." The Corsair felt his mouth go dry, so he reached for a glass of cool water.

As the Corsair drank the water, the Scholar was frozen in his seat. Daleks? That meant...one Time Lord was to blame for that. The Scholar spat out,

" The war was because of the Doctor?"

The Corsair paused as he gulped on his drink, " Not quite, but it wasn't his fault." He hastened to add, "The High council made him go on a mission to Skaro long before the war started."

" He should've completed the mission to destroy the Daleks," Scholar snapped coldly. To the Scholar, and a majority of other Time Lords, the task should've been simple, and yet the Doctor had given into his weaknesses for life.

The Scholar was aware of the mission the council had given the Doctor, but he wasn't as forgiving as others. In the Scholar's mind, the mission had been a simple one and yet the Doctor had failed it. The Scholar was now getting an idea of what had happened; after the mission the Daleks had changed, transforming from cunning and subtle, to mechanical and logical. They'd know thanks to their temporal technology what the Time Lords had done. The puzzle was falling into place for the Scholar. The Corsair could see the look on the other Time Lord's face, knowing that there was no way he could persuade the man that the stakes had been higher.

" The Doctor fought harder and longer than anyone else," The Corsair pointed out; he knew it would make no real difference. The Scholar had already made it clear he'd never forgive the Doctor, but the Corsair was more aware of the circumstances of Gallifrey's fall.

The Scholar didn't reply, his icy countenance disbelieving. The Corsair leant forward, his hands and fingers outstretched. The Scholar flinched back, "What're you doing?"

The Corsair's deep voice was smooth and calm, " Our minds, one and together,"

The Scholar slowly moved forward, and the Corsair's fingers probed into the other Time lord's face, probing for the telepathic contact he needed. He found what he was looking for, and the Scholar lowered his mental barriers. The Corsair fed him the telepathic link, keeping away from the inner depths of the Scholar's mind. Time Lord minds were complex, some believed that a Time Lord mind was a link into the universe. Many races who practiced telepathy formed mental defences based on their unique personalities, and the Corsair knew from experience that breaking into another's mind could result in unpleasantness. He strengthened his own defences, feeling the Scholar do the same thing.

The Time war, Corsair began, showing the Scholar a image that he himself would never forget as long as he lived; an image of Dalek battlesaucers firing missiles and beams on Gallifrey, raking the surface until the planet was alight with fire. The first strike was a small attack on Gallifrey. The Daleks bombarded Gallifrey, their weapons had become so powerful that they cracked the citadels' dome.

The Scholar wanted to say something, mind to mind, but he didn't. He wanted to see the war from the Corsair's mind. Besides he didn't have the hearts to interrupt the Corsair's story. The image of the Citadel of the Time Lords, the mega city that had shrouded and protected the Time Lords for 10 million years in pocket dimensions, with the cracks in the dome was enough to make the Scholar lose his emotional control, something that hadn't happened to the Time Lord for centuries.

The Time War began in earnest. The Daleks destroyed the Faction Paradox, the Monan Host were attacked...The image changed, showing the planet of the Monan Host. The Monan host had cleverly used an occlusion field to mask their history, but the Daleks tore the rift open, firing temporal weapons that made the rift even more unstable. The Scholar didn't need the Corsair to explain what had happened; he could see it, and the Corsair was glad he didn't need to explain the destruction of the Monan Host's homeworld, but he did say what the consequences were. Many of the Monan Host were wiped from history, but some of them managed to escape, protected by their temporal shields. They survived. Some of them fought in the war alongside us, but there was mistrust.

Why was their mistrust? Scholar asked.

A mental sigh came from the Corsair's consciousness, They believed the Time Lords had brought the war on themselves, and dragged other races into it. They were right. We sat complacently as the Daleks prepared for war, gathered their forces, upgrading their technologies a million times over, and the Time Lords weren't able to do anything about it. We were taken by surprise, Scholar, whether you like to admit it or not.

The Scholar didn't like that, he wanted to argue with the other Time Lord, but the Corsair, anticipating the coming argument, carried on with his mental monologue. The image changed, and the Scholar couldn't help but gasp when he saw the massive copper-bronze Dalek ship that was shaped like a cigar. The end of the ship was glowing blue, and it shot a massive beam of energy at a planet it was orbiting. The Scholar gasped when he saw that the planet had highly developed cities on the continents; the beam of energy was aimed at the pole, giving the weapon a more powerful effect. The resultant energy wave swept through the planet, erasing the cities and settlements from existence.

They were a race of explorers, The Corsair's voice echoed through the Scholar's shocked and pained mind at this abuse of temporal technology even though the Time Lords had done something similar in the past. They were mastering space-time travel, and they would either help us or the Daleks, or they would simply begin their own front. The Daleks didn't want to take the chance, so they wiped them out. It gets worse...

The Scholar was about to ask what he meant, not sure if he even wanted to know, but when the next image came through, the Scholar's mind froze in terror. He was witnessing a cadaverous face, pale skin, dark hair, feral and red eyes that looked like they held a fire behind them. Two long fangs dripping blood from the cold and lifeless skin was the only thing that moved on this hideous image.

The Scholar knew what was happening, long before his fellow Time Lord told him. The Daleks reached through our history, bringing up the worst and most nasty of our enemies from the past. They scooped Great Vampires, I don't know how many, but their effect and presence was quickly felt.

The image changed from the vampire, but when the image changed, showing the view of what looked like a planet that looked like it was being drained. The Scholar's hearts seized when they saw it. The planet seemed to become a lifeless husk, glowing with a whitish light that changed to grey, becoming darker and darker as the vampire, or vampires as the case may be, drained the planet of all it's energy. The Scholar wanted to pull his mind away, but the Corsair's hold on his mind was too strong, and the Scholar was forced to watch. He could feel the Corsair's grief and pain through their connection, and knew that he'd seen this before, but couldn't stand watching it now. The Scholar couldn't blame him; seeing something he himself had only witnessed in history files in the present past was horrifying, and incredibly real. The Great Vampires had been extinct for centuries, and seeing their return harked enough horrors to paralyse the Scholar.

Finally the Corsair took mercy, and changed the image over. This time it was showing the image of a dark room with a glowing portal. Suddenly there was a flash of bright light. The Scholar and the Corsair put up mental barriers to get rid of the light, and the image showed a man with long black hair, mad blue eyes and a thick and mangy beard.

The image became more animated when two Time Lord guards came in and wrestled with this stranger, but the man was as strong as he was insane. The man gave out a maniacal laugh. The mental image of the Corsair charged and tackled the other man to the ground. A memory, the Scholar realised.

Not my best memory, The Corsair commented darkly, Guess who the psycho was.

Who?

The Master, The Corsair mentally growled furiously, they brought him back. Gave him fresh new regenerations, but he ran away. He fled to heaven knows where. But the war grew much worse. The image changed, shaking the Scholar out of his stunned rage that the Time Lords would be such an obvious psychopath as the Master back to life; he was aware of the Master's last meeting with the Doctor, but he'd thought it would mean the final end of the evil Time Lord, and showed a man being wheeled out of a chamber. The Scholar gave a mental gasp as he saw the face of the man.

Rassilon...? It can't be. How? The Scholar asked the other Time Lord. The Scholar felt the mental connection darken with the anger the Corsair was feeling, and was confused. Rassilon was the greatest Time Lord in history. Why, the Time Lords should still be here, not reduced in number as they were, as he could feel and sense their telepathic voices. What had gone wrong? The Corsair showed him a memory. It showed a small fleet of Dalek ships attacking Gallifrey, diving, ducking, bombing the citadel, which was now in flames. Greasy smoke rose above, high in the sky as the flames swept the city. All around the base of the dome, the remains of Dalek saucers littered the ground unceremoniously.

Rassilon stood on top of what looked like a weapons platform, his long red Lord president's robes billowing in the wind and smoke of the burning city behind him; it was hard to tell since the Corsair's memory made the viewing more complicated. It was scarcely relevant, the Scholar decided. He'd just spotted Rassilon, the memory zeroed in on him. The legendary Time Lord was stood on top of the platform, his face one the Scholar would never forget. It was a furious raging look of a madman, a look that frightened and worried the Scholar. Throughout history, Time Lords had revered Rassilon. They considered him the father of their race, their civilisation, their culture. They thought, the Scholar amongst them, that the First Time Lord would be calm in the face of adversity. But Rassilon came from another era, the Scholar conceded, it was logical to deduce that he had a different demeanor.

Rassilon raised what looked like a knight's gauntlet, it was hard to tell, it glowed blue and a bolt of blue energy left the glove. It expanded as it met the Dalek ships. The ships were engulfed, and then they exploded.

Rassilon held the Daleks at bay, but the attack occurred because he announced publicly that the Daleks would never strike Gallifrey. The Dalek emperor decided to prove him wrong. Hundreds of Time Lords and Gallifreyans paid the price for Rassilon's arrogance. Rassilon covered it up, claiming that the Daleks were on their way long before he made the announcement.

The Scholar couldn't believe what he was hearing, but then as if in answer to his disbelief the image changed, this time showing Rassilon's public address, and the Scholar felt the Corsair's relief when he felt the other Time Lords disappointment in his hero's lack of humility.

The Corsair skimmed through some of the memories, these ones showing the Scholar of how unstable the First Time Lord truly had been during the war.

As for the Scholar, he felt the Corsair's frustration and fury when he fed the memories of how Rassilon did less leading, and more scheming and plotting with nothing to really show for it. The Scholar witnessed the Corsair's memories, and felt the frustration added onto those same memories, when Rassilon and the council members, one of whom made the Scholar sick when he saw how he kissed Rassilon's backside. It was his own relative, the same one the Scholar had told the Corsair about, the same one who'd gotten him the dimension divider. Whilst the Scholar was disdainful of the renegade Time Lords, he agreed with them that travel through the universe granted them experience. Seeing the Corsair's memories of how Rassilon had made him a liaison to the other renegades who were in charge of the Time Lord forces in the Time War, and seeing Rassilon ignore the Corsair, listening instead to the council, who were advising him to do inane and stupid things, ignoring the advice from the Corsair. Then the Corsair showed the Scholar the meeting with the other renegades; the Scholar instantly recognised the Rani, Salyavin, Susan, the Doctor's granddaughter, and Drax. Since the Scholar tried hard to avoid the renegades on his travels, he didn't know all of them by sight. When Lady Romana arrived, the Scholar was surprised to feel strong emotion from the Corsair, but he couldn't find out why. That was sealed off from his awareness. When the Corsair in the memory pulled out her chair, and Romana blushed, the Scholar understood.

You love her, don't you? He asked the Corsair, doing his best to keep his disapproval at bay. Time lords weren't meant to show weak sentimental emotions like that, but the Scholar knew others didn't agree. The Corsair snapped through the connection, She loves the Doctor, I was merely being friendly. Besides, why shouldn't I admire her? Lady Romana was a popular Time Lady.

The Corsair moved on, showing the meeting. He was pleased when he felt the Scholar's surprise at the death or disappearance of some of the renegades; the Corsair hoped the arrogant Time Lord would see that even when they had different philosophies, the renegades had been Time Lords as well. The Scholar wasn't surprised when he saw the Corsair's denial, but he was taken aback when the memories changed.

The final battle of the war, Corsair confirmed grimly.

Seeing your home planet destroyed for real is bad enough, but for the Scholar, it was like a bad movie. He watched as the Corsair ran through the corridors of the Citadel, feeling the Corsair's pity and contempt for the Time Lords and Ladies rushing around, hampered by their ornamental robes as the Dalek missiles exploded all over the city. The sight of his people acting like primitives annoyed the Scholar. The Corsair was quick to point out, Just because other races seem primitive to you doesn't automatically mean that they can't fight properly. Look at them, our people, The Corsair rapped out angrily, look what they've become. Stagnant. Complacent. Indolent. We were caught unawares by the Daleks, and when Rassilon returned, the whole thing was blown to hell out of all proportions. Rassilon gave the others empty promises. He had no intention of helping the other races. The races the Time Lords are sworn to protect. He cared only for his own skin.

What do you mean? Scholar asked, shaken from Corsair's verbal battering. The Corsair took great delight in showing the Scholar the full extent of the Ultimate Sanction Rassilon dreamt up. The Corsair gave a mental smile when he felt the other Time Lords horror and shock when he saw how unstable and destructive the plan truly was and seeing from the Corsair's perspective in the face of death made the Scholar even more horrified of how low the Time Lords had sunken.

The memories came and went, but the Scholar's mind was still on Rassilon's plan.

The Time vortex was woven into the fabric of reality, like all the dimensions, connecting time and space together like a jigsaw puzzle. It was the vortex and the science behind it that made the Time Lords what they were. Rassilon's plan would more than likely wipe the Time Lords out rather than allow Rassilon's mad scheme from ever happening.

The Scholar wasn't sure how much more he could take; he was seeing the effects of the plan before they even came to light. He saw and felt the memory Corsair's fear, horror, curiosity about what was happening, and what was happening to his fellows. The Scholar's hearts turned to ice when he watched the Corsair and a Time Lady he was certain was a renegade he'd never seen before spying on a few council members, one of them his own cousin. The Scholar despaired when he saw his cousin conspire without any sign of conscience and discretion; surely the fool had been aware of the dangers of spouting out a plan of his magnitude? Clearly not.

Finally the Corsair broke the connection, and both Time Lords let their mental disciplines, honed by centuries of experience, calm and relax their minds and bodies. A Time Lord's body was a miracle, both psychically and physically. Using their mental and physical disciplines, the Time Lord version of yoga, which helped the body cope in conditions that would make a Human tired, the Corsair and the Scholar quickly recovered.

Now the Scholar had seen the war from the eyes and mind from the Corsair, he now had questions. One of them concerned the Ultimate Sanction.

" Did - did no one try to tell Rassilon that his plan would've been a failure?" He asked shaken. It was a blow to see how low his people had sunken, resorting to murder and intrigue, even though he shouldn't have been surprised by the last one. Intrigue and backstabbing had been a major part of Time Lord political culture for centuries, and it was one of the major reasons why Time Lords, the Doctor amongst them, left the planet behind to travel to seek something better.

The Corsair shrugged, " I don't know. I imagine so," He added seriously, looking distant. " I heard about a few people in different levels of the council vanishing without a trace. There was no investigation. Only someone high in the Council could've ordered that."

" You think it was Rassilon." Scholar said; it was a statement of fact, not a question.

" Or someone who believed fanatically in Rassilon's plan," The Corsair replied, " I only hope, for the sake of everything, and the Time Lords you and I can sense, have no intention of following the plan through. But some of the Time Lords were ignorant of the plan. The only people who knew the finer details, no matter how scant, were us renegades and the morons on the Council." The Scholar quirked an eyebrow, either the Corsair had forgotten his own dead cousin had been one of those morons, or he simply didn't care. In truth, the Scholar didn't care anymore. His cousin had chosen to act without seeing how his hero was becoming an increasing megalomaniac.

" What do we do now?" The Scholar asked, the only question had had left.

The Corsair took a deep breath, " We're going to be stuck on Earth for a few days whilst our TARDISes are refueling. They need time to heal, well mine does. In the meantime, I intend to walk around town, and get drunk. I haven't had anything decently alcoholic in months, years," The Corsair added ignoring the Scholar open his mouth before closing it again. Knowing the Scholar, he was going to go on about how it wasn't Time Lordish to get drunk. But with the Time Lords almost gone, the Corsair couldn't care less.

As for the Scholar, well, he was shocked into silence. He tried to reply to the Corsair's statement, but he couldn't. The Corsair's desire for company with Humans, and not with him, a Time Lord was one that the Scholar couldn't understand.


Taking a long gulp from his bottle, the Corsair looked around the Human club he was in, gazing appreciatively at the gyrating Human girls as they danced, some of them most likely drunk or were simply showing off their assets to the men gazing at them with lust. Like the Doctor and many others, the Corsair had visited Earth in the past, but he wasn't a slave to it like his friend. He had limits, and one of them was interfering in history. Corsair preferred stealing to meddling, playing buccaneer, and looking at the girls he wondered if the alcohol he was drinking was making him hormonal. The Corsair had never truly cared about that stupid law that Time Lords should never touch another species sexually, in fact he'd done it on more than one occasion. He was tempted to do it now, and he could see a few girls looking at him unashamedly. He was glad the Scholar wasn't here. The more stiff and rule abiding goody, goody was in his TARDIS, refusing to come out on the Corsair's binge drinking spree. The Scholar was one of the many things he didn't miss about Gallifrey. Oh, he missed his planet, his family and friends. He hated the Doctor for that part, but he understood it. But he knew the Scholar wouldn't forgive the Doctor for making that choice. No other Time Lord would, not unless they fought in the war.

As he took another gulp from his glass, the Corsair got ready to order another when his temporal senses went off. Something was wrong, very wrong. He looked round to see the source. He found it, not so far from him. A tall man wearing a long overcoat from World War 2, ruggedly handsome, but sending out waves of wrongness that stunned the Corsair. The Time Lord could see that this man was out of sync with time, that meant he was a time traveller. But there was more to it than that. He was wrong, time ran differently for him, and he looked older than his appearance first suggested. Nausea gripped the Corsair's insides when he took in the time flow of the man.

A fixed point.

The Corsair put down his glass, and prepared to leave. Thoughts of doing things that were not Time Lord behaviour with those attractive girls fled the Corsair's mind, he was obeying his first impulse and leave before this man spoke to him. Looking closely at the man, the Corsair could see the vortex manipulator. He sighed at the sight of the stupid device that people from this fool planet called a time machine. It wasn't worthy of the title.

Things were just getting better and better.

A Time Agent, or someone playing time traveller. No, this guys whole bearing screamed military, indicating specialist training. The temporal senses were showing this man to have travelled in time from the future, so time agent looked more likely. But one look at his wrist mounted time machine, and the Corsair was surprised by the lack of use. A deserter? Or maybe the device wasn't working, that was the trouble with manipulators. They had a nasty habit of malfunctioning and sending their users to the wrong time, and burning out, stranding the poor bastard in the wrong timezone. The Corsair felt it was better if he did leave, and quickly without being noticed. Even a deserting Time agent was a problem, one the Corsair could do without considering his own problems. The Corsair picked up his coat, and prepared to leave. He'd just stepped away, when the Time agent spoke.

" I don't bite," he said, looking forwards, startling the Time Lord. He looked at the Corsair, an inviting smile on his face. Corsair felt disgust at the innuendo; typical, his first night on Earth, stuck with a broken down TARDIS, an arrogant rule abiding goody goody Time Lord, and a flirtatious Time agent from the 51st century when he could be having a good night with a human girl or two.

" What makes you think I'm interested, time agent?" Corsair spat, deciding to let the other traveller know that he knew his identity, the Corsair's hand was in his pocket near his sonic screwdriver, his other hand around his perception phaser which would render the pair invisible by telepathic command. It was a clever device he'd created himself during the Time War, it acted like a perception filter, and merely phased whoever used it to avoid detection.

The hand wrapped around the sonic screwdriver tightened. Technically, sonic screwdrivers couldn't wound or hurt anyone, but they were good at repelling knives or guns and throwing people back with a sonic wave, and the Corsair knew that this man was armed, and he knew better than to get cocky around Time agents. Time agents never went anywhere without weapons. It was a given fact. The Corsair added another telepathic command to his phaser, increasing the telepathic distortion around himself and his man, knowing he could feel it. If they got into a fight, he didn't want anyone to notice. If he had the chance then he would strip the man of his identity and be back in his seat without anyone noticing. That was the best way of dealing with these psychopaths.

The Time agency wasn't a pleasant organisation, and the Corsair had met with them enough times on his travels to know they weren't trustworthy, they'd shot at him, interfered with his business enough times for that message to enter his brain. They were exactly why the Time Lords had frowned and forbade others from having time travel technology, they showed no regard for temporal mechanics, and they were directly, or indirectly, responsible for a number of paradoxes that required the intervention of the Time Lords. Time Lords who travelled, like the Corsair and the Doctor, had had their own meetings with the Agency, and each time left them with a bad taste in their mouths, and a growing contempt for the Agency.

The Agency were a 21st century internet conspiracy nutter's wet dream, they were a government agency out of control with no care or scruples about what they did or what they were playing with. The addition of time travel was another dangerous mix, with paranoia and an insular attitude to the way the universe worked. In the Agency's eyes other races were out to eradicate Earth. If the Agency didn't have time travel as a part of their arsenal then the Time Lords would never have bothered with them, but unfortunately, they did, and they messed and intervened in events they shouldn't, uncaring about the mess they made.

In the Corsair's mind, this freak of nature shouldn't be here, but he was nonetheless intrigued about how he became fixed in time. Then he noticed the amount of artron energy coming from him, the sort you found in a TARDIS. Please say he didn't travel with a Time Lord, the Corsair mentally begged. No Time lord would be so foolish...

The time agent gaped at him before getting control over himself, meeting the dangerous look in the other man's eyes, " What's a Time agent?" He asked, hoping to bluff the stranger. Then his eyes focused on something away from the Corsair's eyes. The Corsair risked a look down, keeping his senses attuned to the agents body language.

The man was looking at his hand where the sonic screwdriver was. The Time agents eyes shot up to look him in the eyes, " A sonic screwdriver?" he whispered. To the Corsair's surprise, the agent flipped open his vortex manipulator, and scanned him. When the device finished with a whirl, he looked up slowly.

" You're a Time Lord, aren't you?" he whispered, almost reverently.

The Corsair's grip on his sonic screwdriver tightened as he watched the Time Agent, now convinced something was wrong. He was worried; why was the Time Agent not reaching for his weapon? He didn't know what the policy concerning Time Lords in the Agency was at the moment, but when he last checked Time lords were their No.1 enemy. Had that changed, or was this...thing lulling him into a false sense of security? The Corsair wasn't going to let that happen. Time Lords were biological miracles, a single cell could help cure innumerable diseases, grant high degrees of senses both telepathic and temporal. Time Lord biology could also yield the secrets of regeneration and the Rassilon imprimature, allowing other races to travel through time and tear it to shreds. Weapons could also be created from Time Lord biology, and the Corsair had no intention of being why hundreds of races were wiped out.

The Agent could see that the Time Lord was nervous, and understood why, " I left the Agency a long time ago. I've travelled with Two Time lords."

The Corsair hadn't expected that, nor could he imagine why any Time Lord would be so foolish to let this...freak anywhere near a TARDIS.

" Oh," the Corsair challenged, " who?"

" The Doctor, and Romana. We also met the Master. Then Rani, and the Doctor's granddaughter," the Agent replied.

The Corsair couldn't believe it. He'd known of course that some of his people had survived, but it was hard to actually figure out who they were. Now it made sense; how else could the time agent know about the Doctor and Romana if he hadn't travelled with them? The mention of the Master was another surprise, he'd hoped that psycho was dead and gone, lost in his delusions of grandeur.

Refusing to get his hopes up, and half convinced this was some sort of trap, the Corsair glowered at the time agent. " You could've gotten the information from another source," he said watching the other man closely, even though it hurt to do so. His instincts were pounding the walls of his mental barriers, screaming for Corsair to run away from this perversion of temporal physics.

The Time Agent didn't seem surprised by the Corsair's reactions.


Frustration gripped the insides of Jack Harkness. It had been a week since the fall of Torchwood three, Ianto was dead, Gwen was in fact a Time Lady along with Tosh, and the pair of them had gone off to rebuilt the Time Lords, and the 456s had been defeated by the Doctor who'd come back to Earth without Romana for a visit, and the Doctor hadn't spoken about her, and Jack had no way of knowing what'd happened to her. Romana hadn't seemed to the sort to leave, but Jack would hold out judgement. Unfortunately, the Doctor hadn't been able to save his grandson, Steven. The ex time agent didn't hate the Doctor for it, the Doctor had tried so hard to help Jack, but there was nothing that could've been done.

He'd been travelling the Earth for six months, trying to find some way of ridding himself of his grief. He'd come back to Cardiff to drown out his sorrows before he left; Jack had found a cold fusion freighter, leaving for new pastures. The thought of leaving 21st century Earth was one that appealed to Jack, he'd been stranded here, hitching rides on the TARDIS, but never actually exploring the universe. His time in the Agency had been on official business, and Jack had never really had a chance to actually explore. If Jack was honest, he would say he was disgusted with Earth, especially after the way they were willing to let their own children be taken like that. The Doctor had offered him a chance to leave in the TARDIS, but Jack had been grieving at the time. The Doctor's rage with Earth and the 456 scared Jack, and the Doctor had warned the aliens that if they ever darkened the skies of Earth again, he would wipe them out. The 456, knowing the Doctor by reputation, had left, terrified.

Now, he was dealing with another Time Lord, whose suspicion of him reminded him vividly of the first time he and the Doctor had met. Jack hadn't met that many Time Lords, and whenever the words Time agent were mentioned, they froze and regarded him with caution, and a little anger. Jack couldn't really say he blamed them; the Time Agency had a reputation, and their constant meddling in time must've irked and pissed the Time Lords off on more than one occasion.

After speaking with the Time Lord, Jack could tell this Time Lord had obviously only just appeared; the Time Lord survivors must be popping up like rabbits after the Doctor had found Romana and the Master.

Jack wasn't surprised by the Time lords' accusations, " You're right, I could've. But where would I've gotten them? There's not much on the Time Lords, and the ones on record from the Agency were hardly well known. There was one that was an issue. A Time lord by the name of the Corsair, and he had a tattoo similar to that one," Jack pointed at the tattoo on the Corsair's forearm.

The Corsair cursed, but said nothing.

Jack sighed, " Read my mind,"

" What?"

Jack held back the urge to smile; there wasn't anything humourous here, and the Time Lord wouldn't find anything funny here about reading the mind of a Time Agent.

" Read my mind," Jack repeated, " It's the only way of knowing for sure if I'm telling the truth."

Jack carefully watched the Corsair, the Time Lord not moving. Jack took out his revolver, setting the weapon down on the counter. He glanced at the Corsair, and said, " I'm not armed. I wont harm you. The Doctor would kill me a million times over if I did that."

The Corsair quirked an eyebrow, and he conceded the point. The Time agent's knowledge of his people was staggering, and reading his mind was the best way of actually telling if he was telling the truth about that knowledge. The Corsair moved closer, keeping his telepathic senses attuned, and trying to fight off the nausea his instincts were creating; how the Doctor and Lady Romana could stand being in this man's presence whilst the Corsair had to use all his Time Lord cool was anyone's guess.

The Corsair gripped the Agents face, fingers seeking the appropriate mental points. The Corsair frowned in concentration as he read the mind of the Time agent; all Time Agents underwent psychic training that extended into telepathy, and their mental shields were quite strong. It wasn't long before the Agent lowered his shields and allowed the Corsair access to his mind. The nausea the Corsair had felt before was now made worse by the 51st century sex drive, the people of this time were sometimes driven by sex, and they thought about it occasionally, but they didn't live on it like people from the 51st century, a time when Humanity's population was massive and crossed over 4 galaxies. The Corsair remembered his first and only visit to that century; there were brothels and strip clubs all over, but they were breeding farms really, with mothers having children from a dozen different fathers, and carrying them all at once, the rite of marriage gone.

The Corsair shook the disturbing memories off, including his one night stand with a few women with heightened sex drives from that time, and forced his mind into Jacks. He saw the Agent as a boy, memories of growing up, the pain of his brother..., the Corsair focused on the training the Agency had put him though - whatever he thought about the agency, the Corsair had to admit they did a good job in training their people - a list of steady and successful missions...then two years of his life wiped. The Corsair wasn't surprised; the Time Agency sometimes did that with their people when they stumbled across something that was disturbing, and it was more than likely that Jack Harkness had stumbled across something serious; the Corsair was frustrated he couldn't find the man's own name, the latter hiding it deep inside his brain. The Corsair saw the memory of Jack's first meeting with the Doctor, shocked at seeing the Doctor's ninth form. The size of those ears...The Corsair approved of the leather jacket, it looked more fashionable that the questionable things the Doctor had worn in different incarnations. When memory Jack called the Doctor " Mr Spock," the Corsair laughed at the dumbfounded look in his old friend's eye. The Ninth Doctor surprised the Corsair, he looked like a man who could go from cheerful into sullen, and his face looked sculptured for scowling. The Corsair wasn't sure if he approved of that Doctor's choice for companion; Miss Rose Tyler, as Jack's mind identified her as was someone the Corsair would keep at arms length. It was clear she seemed to consider the Doctor her personal shield from harm, but to actually see scenic London via barrage balloon in the middle of an air raid was pushing the Corsair's love for danger. As the memories continued, each showing Jack becoming more and more someone who could be trusted after that mistake with the Chula nanogenes; how he couldn't have realised was beyond the Corsair, but as the memories continued the Corsair was becoming impressed with the man. The Corsair stopped when he saw memory Jack, the Doctor and Rose in front of the Dalek emperor. The Dalek Emperor was responsible for millions of atrocities during the War, and he'd survived, falling through time and space, only to end up in the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire. The Corsair felt ill when the Emperor gloated about using raw human materials to create new Daleks, did the Daleks gloat like that? It seemed a bit too emotional for the Corsair, but he continued seeing the memories.

The Corsair paused when Jack saw the Ninth Doctor lean against the doors of his newly regenerated TARDIS, the burnt out Dalek casing on the console dais. The Doctor was trembling with an emotion the Corsair couldn't identify, the Daleks cries of " You will be exterminated," ringing as their weapons launched futile blasts on the shield the Doctor had rigged up to protect his ship, and the Corsair guessed that the Daleks were pissing the Doctor off. The Battle of Satellite 5 sped through the Corsair's mind, and the Corsair felt ill when he saw the Daleks kill even more people, and he could see and understand the Scholar's opinion that the Doctor should've wiped the Daleks out without caring for his own emotional upset. Look what the result was.

The Daleks killing Jack, only for Jack to be brought back to life, shocked and disgusted the Corsair; the memory Jack took a deep breath, stunned to find he'd been killed and then brought back. The Corsair knew of many races that believed themselves superior, how they believed if they were hit with a Dalek weapon blast then they'd get up as if nothing had happened. Now, they were all dead. Jack should be dead, not even a Time Lord could survive a blast like that and regenerate.

The Corsair watched as the Doctor's TARDIS dematerialised in front of Jack. Not wanting to view Jack's earth bound memories, he sped forward, and watched as the Doctor, now with longer hair and skinny as a rake, hug Lady Romana in a new incarnation herself, later he saw the Master, also regenerated. The Corsair felt loathing for the Master circulate through him, and he didn't care if Jack felt that loathing. Jack himself hated the Master, and it didn't take long for the Corsair to see why; the memories of the painful tortures the Master had put Jack under horrified the Corsair. The Time Lord mentally shuddered when he heard the Master's insane cackle. What did surprise the Corsair, however, was the apparent view of Rose Tyler on the Master's side, and his wife, the Corsair watched as the little bitch proved she was as maniacal as her spouse. The Corsair grinned when he saw the Doctor, now restored from his tiny and wizened form, fight back against the Master. The Corsair felt the echo of Jack's awe, but since this was basic telepathic science, the Corsair felt nothing except delight the Doctor had got one over the Master once more.

He was angry, however, to see the Master escape in his own TARDIS.

Later he saw as Jack, the Doctor and Romana deal with what seemed like a bigoted version of UNIT. It was this sight that made the Corsair glad that he himself interact with organisations like that. The Corsair was delighted when he was referenced, but even in the memory, he could see the Doctor and Romana's sadness about the memories he invoked.

Spinning the memories on, the Corsair had no intention of listening to the origins of the Time War, and saw the resurrection of the Rani and Susan. Now convinced about the Time Agent's goodwill the Corsair withdrew his mind from Jacks.

" Alright, I believe you," The Corsair admitted, his belief of Jack strengthened by that fact Jack hadn't killed him whilst he was vulnerable.

Jack took a deep breath, he'd been tempted to go into Corsair's mind, but he resisted the urge. He'd needed the Time Lord to trust him, and now he did. The only thing that bothered him was the fact he didn't seem to trust the Doctor even though the pair of them were friends, and seemed like they were made from the same mould.

" I felt your dislike of the Master when you saw my memories of the Year that never was," Jack observed, watching the Corsair closely. " You don't like the Master do you?"

" You're right, I don't," Corsair sighed, " The Doctor gives him too much leeway, because they used to be friends. But the Master stopped thinking about the Doctor in a good light centuries ago. I also hate the fact he betrayed the Time Lords." The sudden pain in the Time Lords eyes was terrible to see. " What's happened to them, Jack? In this new universe, what's become of my people?"

Jack took a deep breath, " There are quite a few of them now, I dunno for sure, the Doctor didn't tell me, but I imagine quite a few survived the war. now, the Time Lords are rebuilding. I dunno when you'll get back on your feet."

The future looked more happy for the Corsair.


As the hours passed in the Scholar's and the Corsair's TARDISes, the Scholar was trying to muster the urge to gather clothes from one of the wardrobes; the Scholar wore a less bulky version of Time Lord everyday robes; a long high collared cloak / jacket, big black boots, and gloves. The Scholar knew how touchy Humans were, and knew if he went outside from the safety of the time machines, either his or the Corsair's, he would attract too much attention. The Scholar preferred travelling incognito, even though he was more than prepared to change clothes. The only reason he was staying inside his TARDIS was because he'd been to Earth before, many times in fact, and he believed that if he went outside then he wouldn't see much of interest. The Scholar remembered the last time he'd visited 21st century Earth, and his nose wrinkled as he recalled the stenches it had been exposed to. How Humans could live in such an environment was beyond him.

The Scholar was about to forget his view on Humanity, and go out looking for the Corsair, remembering the hideous truth. They were an endangered species now, and the Corsair's safety was his responsibility. The Time lord kicked himself for forgetting that fact. The Scholar was just adding the finishing touches to his human clothes when the Corsair came back. The Scholar eyed him thoughtfully; the Corsair had looked like he'd been about to jump off a cliff, or into a black hole when the Scholar had last seen him, and now he looked more like his reputed old self.

" What happened to you? I was getting worried," The Scholar admonished. The Corsair ignored him. " I met a friend of the Doctor's, a man who says that the Time Lords are rebuilding,"

" Why should that be a matter for celebration, we both knew that?"

" Yes, but that man told me that there's hope," The Corsair replied. He wasn't going to say the man he'd met with was an ex and immortal fixed point Time Agent. The Scholar wasn't happy with the Doctor as it was.

The Corsair had gone out because he was afraid of the Time Lords future, and now he was certain they were going to survive.


" I hate these things," The Doctor complained when he fixed his robes. Romana slapped his hands away, a frown on her face as she tried to straighten the mess he'd made of the collar already. Both were wearing traditional Time Lord robes, the Doctor was wearing the robes of a Prydonian, long scarlet and orange robes, and the Doctor remembered only too well how much he hated them.

The trouble with Time Lord fashion was that it was far too ceremonial, meaning that they were incredibly bulky, and that they were for show rather than practicality. The Doctor's eyes narrowed when he saw Romana, radiant in her white gown, and the Doctor wished male Time Lord robes were as light as the feminine equivalent.

" I know you do," Romana muttered, trying to straighten the collar, and making her love feel as if a noose was tightening around his neck. " But this is an important day, and you've already missed it twice. I want you to face up to the fact that the Time Lords are still alive."

The Doctor sighed. It had been three years since New Gallifrey had been founded, and in that time the new city was practically finished, but the Doctor was never comfortable. He was happier whilst he and Romana travelled in the TARDIS, looking for new and uninhabited planets for the Time Lords to colonise. After the Time Lord's stagnation on Gallifrey, never colonising new worlds, the Doctor wasn't going to let the same thing happen again. If the Time lords were to survive, then they had to live offworld as well. He also had to get away from the Time lords; his guilt over Gallifrey's destruction and many of his actions before, during and after the war haunting every heartbeat, and he was afraid that if he stayed on Gallifrey then the Time Lords would gang up on him. Romana, Susan, Flavia, and a few of his friends argued he was wrong, but the Doctor could see it in the others eyes, the disappointment, the anger of their races near extinction. He could tell that his loved ones could see it too, they were just trying to protect him from the harsh reality of the pain of the Time Lord's destruction.

Romana could see the look of heartbreak on the Doctor's face; she knew him well enough to know how painful this day was. The founding of New Gallifrey was on the same day of the original and late Gallifrey's destruction. It was meant to show the new generations that even though Gallifrey had been destroyed, their people had survived, they'd found a new home, and prospered. She, Flavia, Susan and a few of his friends had tried to keep the Doctor away from the angry Time Lords who resented the fact he hadn't been vapourised or even exiled for his ' crimes.' Romana noticed that none of them had stopped Rassilon's plan, and they'd survived. She knew that they were trying to find someone else to blame to cover up their own inaction.

Romana finished with the Doctor's collar, and went into their room. When she came back, the look of distaste on the Doctor's face increased. In Romana's hands were two skullcaps. Traditional Time Lord clothes, the Doctor hated them, and so did many others who left Gallifrey. Again, Romana's was much lighter. The Doctor put his on after a moment's hesitation, but when he was faced with Romana's glare, he put it on. He winced when he felt the bloody things weight on his cranium. He remembered, in the final days of his Third Incarnation, when he and Sarah had travelled to the Middle ages to deal with the Sontaran Linx, Professor Rubeish ramble on about how hats and wigs overheated the brain. He should've put on of these damned thinfs on his head, and see what the result was.

The celebrations included singing of traditional Time Lord songs; the Doctor felt his hearts grow heavy as he watched the new generation of Time Lords, many of them babies cry when they heard the rhythmic songs. He knew how they felt, these songs were meant to show Time Lord superiority in music, and they weren't meant for the ears of children. He knew of quite a few Time Lords raising families and settling down. As the ceremony carried on, the Doctor caught the eyes of a few Time Lords, and he felt a chill when he saw the lack of forgiveness. Some might say it was unTime Lordish for Time Lords to be so irrational, but to the Doctor, their anger was rational. It hurt, but it was fact.

He saw that not everyone here was dressed in Time lord robes; he could see the Silurian- Time lords mingle. wearing what looked like a cross between stately and aristocratic Time lord robes and Silurian tunics. He thought they looked very fetching.

Flavia stood up, the new leader of the Time Lords smiling down as she prepared to deliver a speech, " Friends, Time Lords!" She shouted through a voice magnifier, " It has been a difficult year for us, the Old original Time Lord race, but our future is secured by the hybrid races."

" You mean the half breeds?" Someone shouted angrily, ignoring the looks as the Human, Chula, Monan Host and Silurian hybrids turned to face him. The hybrid races, including the Arcadian subspecies, were the only ones not wearing robes, they wore clothing denoting their separate and diverse ancestry. The Doctor thought it was actually quite fetching, he was also unsurprised by the reaction of the hybrids by the general populace. In theory, the Time Lords were above that, but since there had been very few mixed species, he could see that the prejudice was still there. He exchanged a long suffering look with Romana and Susan. When he caught the Rani's expression, he wished he hadn't. Rani was pissed.

Flavia was more than aware of how the hybrids were far from popular, " Those half breeds, as you so eloquently call them, are helping us rediscover ourselves. I have been to their homeworlds, and they've achieved more in a million years than we have in a billion. They are our future." Flavia's tone was mild, but everyone could feel the tremble as folded steel was being sharpened.

Just as she was about to carry on with her speech, another Time Lord yelled, " Why's that renegade here, the one who killed off my family?" he bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at the Doctor. The Doctor winced, but he held himself from running away. Romana took his hand, " Now you see why I hate this day," she heard him whisper. Anger shot through Romana's body, and she shot up and started yelling at the Time Lord who'd only brought her loved one more grief, " I don't remember you, some of you, standing up against Rassilon and the council for their insane plan. No, you just sat back and let the Daleks destroy our home. If anyone's to blame for the destruction of Gallifrey, its Rassilon and you. You people who let him walk all over you."

Before the crowd could degenerate even further, a familiar sound of a TARDIS landing echoed. The Rani frowned, " I thought we were all here, except for the Master."

" So did I," Flavia replied.

As the Time machine landed, the door opened.

The Doctor shot out of his seat, and ran towards his old friend, " Corsair!" He wrapped his arms around the other man, ignoring Time Lord etiquette. The Doctor noted the Corsair didn't hug him back, and as he pulled back he saw the expression on the Corsair's face. It was lined with disappointment.

" Hello, Doctor." Was all he said.

" Aren't you pleased to see me?" The Doctor asked.

" See you, yes. Pleased about the fact Gallifrey's gone, no." Corsair replied. " I heard from a friend of yours that you rescued Lady Romana, and since then other Time Lords have returned, but Jack Harkness told me that before that you travelled alone. How did you not find the time to recover a race bank or so? They were lying around all over the place."

The Doctor sheepishly moved back. The Corsair was right about the race banks. Rassilon had frowned on them, but Romana hadn't cared. She'd ordered them made and filled with pure Time Lord DNA. The Doctor had tried to recover one before he set up the Moment, but he hadn't found one available. Since the destruction of their homeworld, the Doctor had tried his best to find the others, knowing that Romana and her followers had scattered them throughout space and time, but they were hard to find, and the TARDIS couldn't lock on to them.

In the face of the Corsair, the Doctor was guilty, as far as the Doctor could see.

That hurt the Doctor.