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Surveillance footage/Continuity Council minutes, Really Very Tiny Auditorium

Reader: [suspiciously] That sounds rather a lot like the Lord President, did you know him?

Morgan: Oh, not this again.

Disentangler: Well, she does have a point--we don't want to follow in his footsteps--

Fisherman: If I may point out--I mean, this doesn't actually sound like Rassi--

Reader: [accusingly, to Morgan] You told me this Continuity Council would not go the way of the High Council, you promised--

Notary: Well, this is all very...charming. Could we maybe get back on topic, or is that something you've all abandoned?

Morgan: Oh, don't you start. This isn't--

Agent: Maybe we should all calm down? No? Alright, I'll just...stay here, then.

Reader: Next thing you know we'll be trying to ascend!

Morgan: This isn't the High Council of Gallifrey!

Notary: [clearly relishing the infighting a little bit] A-hem. If it please the Council, I have composed a short preliminary constitution for our dealings. Item one: The Continuity Council of Gallifrey-in-Exile (hereafter referred to as the Council or Continuity Council) stands for the...

[QUITE A WHILE LATER]

Notary: [smug as a well-fed cat with a secret it's about to sell to the press] ... and furthermore, to clarify our position as guardians of Gallifreyan heritage in a changing, chaotic multiverse. Any questions?

Reader: ... is it over?

Disentangler: How is it possible for a single person to contain that much legalese?

Morgan: Do you just not need to breathe or something? How can you exist without breathing?

Notary: I was primarily concerned with your comprehension of the preliminary constitution, but if you wish to behave like the gang of slovenly renegades you are, perhaps I need to express myself more clearly-

Disentangler: Morgan, you've set her off again!

Fisherman: [jamming his fingers in his ears and burrowing under the table] If I can't hear it, it's not really happening, if I can't hear it, it's not really happening...

Morgan: Ugh. Notary. For the love of... whatever you hold dear, I don't know, well-organized filing systems or something, just shut up. Please.

Notary: Why, of all the - I've never been so insulted!

Morgan: Only 'cause you weren't paying attention, now shut. Up.

Notary: Feh. I don't know why I expected better from you and the rest of these exiled miscegenators. Oh, if only Rassilon could see what his people are reduced to-

Reader: Yeah, sure! If Rassilon was here, everything'd be A-okay! Just so long as we, you know, tried to destroy the universe and all of reality! Oh, and behaved like good little thought-slaves, can't forget that!

Notary: Our Lord President was doing what he thought best for the Time Lords and for Gallifrey, as was his right-

Reader: His RIGHT? Morgan, where didja dig this one up, I want it carpet bombed-

Morgan: [screaming herself hoarse] ENOUGH!

[The room falls silent.]

Morgan: [much quieter now] Enough. Especially you, Notary. Just sit down. This isn't going to be like the High Council. Nobody here is Rassilon. Nobody here is above another. We are just trying to do what's right for Gallifrey and for the plot of our home. Remember that? Good. Now then... thank you for your proposals, Spinel Promotor, I'll bear them in mind when we draft our constitution. All of us. Together. All in favour?

[Everyone raises their hands, even the Notary, albeit with a hint of bad grace about it.]

Morgan: Good. Now. Who's got something to talk about who isn't the Notary do I have to duct-tape your mouth shut or something?

Notary: Are your particular preferences really suitable for airing at a solemn gather-

Morgan: AUGH!

Reader: I've got something to say.

Morgan: Alright, you have the floor. [to herself] Deep breaths, Morgan, deep breaths...

Reader: Are you sure there's nobody above another in this room? Because you seem to be railroading us quite a bit, and that's how it all started-

[Morgan's collar switches off as her head bounces repeatedly off the table.]

Fisherman: ... Uh, Morgan? Can I come out now?

Morgan: Yes, you can come out now.

Fisherman: [Getting up from under the table and deploying his collar] Good! Can we make some sense now?

Notary: You're one to talk about making sense.

Agent: Didn't you use a rubber chicken to stabilise a dysfunctional reality?

Fisherman: Didn't you use Avada Kedavra on the spirit of a building? Or was that the Disentangler, I forget...

Disentangler: Actually, I just hit it with a book.

Morgan: Wait... a rubber chicken? What?

Librarian: Was it nice under the table? I think I will take a break there.

Fisherman: Not bad. Bit cramped, but what do you expect.

Notary: Why are we here? We've established that we're not here to ascend to a higher plane of existence, and that's it. I proposed a sensible set of constitutional articles, can we at least pretend to discuss them?

Morgan: No. Next item of business?

Agent: Uh, yeah, I've got something. I mean, something actually productive.

Morgan: Thank every god within shouting distance. Whatcha got?

Notary: Castellan, the correct form of address is-

Morgan: [with a smile... or at least showing her teeth, which counts, right?] Item the second: motion to use Council petty cash fund for electrical tape to shut the Notary up. All in favour?

[Hands fly into the air like VTOL fighters.]

Morgan: Aaaaand the motion is passed via majority vote.

Notary: [muttering] This is going in the blasted minutes, y'jumped-up trigger-happy renegade...

Morgan: Okay. Agent, continue where ya left off. [with a snide glance at the Notary] Whatcha got?

Agent: [ignoring the Notary's rolled eyes] Well, uh, you said part of my brief's other media, right? So, with the Night Of The Doctor prequel making Big Finish's Eighth Doctor adventures canon... do I have to listen to all of them, or is that the Disentangler's wheelhouse?

Morgan: ... Huh. That's actually a good point. Err'body?

Disentangler: [pretty much instantly] He can do it.

Agent: Hey!

Fisherman: I'm not sure. I mean, my first instinct would be it's the Agent's job, but...

Librarian: I mean, from what I understand of all this I guess it wouldd technically be the Agent's job?

Morgan: Oh, for the love of all that's holy, don't bring up technicalities around that one. [She jabs a thumb at the Notary, who grumbles to herself]

Notary: I beg your pardon?

Disentangler: Hey, d'you reckon if you say "Incorrectly Completed Tax Return" three times in front of a bathroom mirror with the lights off, the Notary'll appear behind you?

Notary: Tigereye Castellan, I really must protest! This is entirely unnecessary-

Morgan: Nuh-uh. That legal mumbo-jumbo that came outta your face like a busted dam, that was unnecessary. Calling us exiles like we were war criminals or something was unnecessary. This? Entirely justified. The council does not recognise your complaints.

Notary: Well! [She sits back down heavily and harrumphs in peace]

Reader: Why did we let her in again?

Morgan: Because everyone else here hates paperwork, and I think she gets high from folder fumes. Getting back to the topic at hand, though... we should vote. Those in favour of giving the audio drama adventures to the Sapphire Watcher rather than the Amethyst Keeper?

[Three hands raise]

Morgan: And those against?

[Four hands raise, including Morgan's]

Morgan: Motion is passed. Hey, look, we did something, guys! We actually made a decision! Was that so hard?

[The Notary motions to speak, but thinks better of it.]

Morgan: And the Notary's learning too. This might not be so bad after all!

Reader: That patronising attitude... that's where it all began, you know-

Fisherman: Didn't you say it was railroading people that was where it all started?

Reader: What, you want to go back to how Lord President Rassilon would've run it?

Notary: Is there something wrong with that? The Lord President was a charismatic leader in a time of incredible conflict!

Reader: Yeah, you side with the lunatic monomaniac, Notary! Go you! There's a gold star over there!

Morgan: [resignedly] ... Then again, it might not be worth it in the slightest.

[Suddenly, the Continuity Council room's door flies open, and a single Strategist Dalek rolls fervently through to confront the assembled Time Lords.]

Fearn: HALT! HALT! WHAT IS THE MEAN-ING OF THIS TRANS-GRESS-ION!

Agent: What? Who let a bloody Dalek over here? And more importantly, who let a Dalek know where we were?

Fearn: FOOL-ISH TIME LORDS! IF YOU DID NOT WISH TO BE-COME VICTIM TO THE WON-DROUS TRACKING SKILLS OF A STRA-TE-GIST OF THE DA-LEKS, A CATEGORY WHICH IN-CLUDES MY-SELF, FEARN, YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE MADE YOUR TRANS-MISS-ION RECORDS SO SIM-PLE TO HACK!

HA

HA

HA

Fisherman: Wait, you hacked our communications?

Fearn: YES.

Fisherman: But there would've been no call to unless you knew we were planning something, and this is the first Council meeting, so no one would've even known we had any plans! Unless... have you been spying on one of us beforehand?

Fearn: IRRELEVANT.

Fisherman: I think it's perfectly rele-

Fearn: IRRELEVANT!

Disentangler: (sighing) Oh, wonderful. Fearn-

Fearn: THE TIME LORDS HAVE AS-SEM-BLED IN THEIR FEEBLE GA-THER-ING, AND IT IS WITHIN THE RIGHTS OF A SU-PE-RI-OR RACE SUCH AS THE DA-LEKS TO PROVE THE SU-PE-RIORITY OF THEMSELVES IN ALL THINGS, IN-CLU-DING CON-GRE-GA-TION!

Reader: ...What?

Fearn: IF YOU TIME LORDS ARE TO A-SSEM-BLE A COUNCIL OF YOUR GREATEST MINDS AND WARR-I-ORS, THE DA-LEKS, LED IN THEIR RIGH-TEOUS EFFORT BY MY-SELF, FEARN, SHALL A-SSEM-BLE A COUNCIL THAT SHALL MAKE YOURS SEEM AS IN-SIG-NI-FI-CANT AS DUST, TO BE-FIT THE TRUE STAN-DING OF YOUR PEOPLE IN COM-PARISON TO THAT OF THE WONDROUS DA-LEK RACE!

Reader: [to the Librarian] Do we even have enough Daleks for a council?

Librarian: Until a few moments ago, I was unaware that we had any whatsoever. [to Fearn] And I believe it would be a parliament, would it not?

Fearn: AS FOUNDER AND HIGH CHAN-CELL-OR OF THE CON-GRE-GA-TION OF THE DA-LEKS, IT IS MY SWORN AND NOBLE DUTY TO DECIDE WHAT SAID CON-GRE-GA-TION SHALL BE CALLED, TIME LORD!

Disentangler: Oh, please. You're only "High Chancellor" because you're the only one on your so-called Dalek Council. Now, can you vamoose? We were almost getting to a-

Fearn: RE-CRUIT-ING OTHER DA-LEKS WAS AL-WAYS PART OF THE COUN-CIL'S PLAN! SPE-CI-FI-CALLY, THE FOURTH STEP IN THE GLORIOUS TEN-STEP PLAN FOR-MU-LA-TED BY MYSELF, FEARN, TO PROVE THE SU-PER-I-OR-I-TY OF THE DA-LEKS IN YET ANOTHER MATTER!

Reader: Being obnoxious?

Fearn: DON'T YOU START!

Morgan: [smirking] Notary, what are you getting in the minutes for this?

Fearn: ...IT SUD-DEN-LY STRIKES ME THAT YOU MAY NOT BE TAKING THIS AT ALL SE-RI-OUS-LY.

Agent: What was your first tip-off?

Fearn: TO BE HONEST, IT WAS PRO-BAB-LY THE POINT WHEN I WAS QUES-TIONED ON MY METHODS OF IN-FOR-MA-TION GATHERING RA-THER THAN DI-RECT-LY OP-POSED, VERBALLY OR O-THER-WISE.

Fisherman: So about ten seconds in, then.

Agent: Questions like those are usually meant rhetorically, Fearn.

Notary: Why are you addressing this interloper in so familiar a manner?

Agent: He doesn't have another name. At least, he hasn't got one he's not shouted at the top of his lungs three times now.

Fearn: I'D THOUGHT IT WAS AT LEAST FOUR.

Notary: It is not your place to speak here, Dalek!

Morgan: At least he's far more compelling than you were.

Notary: A DALEK?

Agent: I believe he's shouted that bit at least six times now.

Fearn: SEVEN! I RE-MEM-BER THAT ONE!

Disentangler: Of course you do.

Notary: Less compelling than a Dalek

Fearn: WATCH AS THE TIME LORD QUAILS AT THE MERE MEN-TION OF DA-LEK SU-PRE-MA-CY! VISIBLY SHAKES, EVEN!

Notary: I am not quailing!

Fearn: YES? PER-HAPS IT IS SUP-PRESSED RAGE AT THE NU-MER-OUS SAR-CAS-TIC POTSHOTS OF THIS FEEBLE IM-I-TA-TION COUN-CIL THAT DRIVES YOU. OR MORE LIKE-LY, YOU ARE IN DE-NI-AL!

Disentangler: Notary, don't encourage him.

Fearn: IT IS NO SHAME. DENIAL IS A TRAIT SHARED AMONG MANY OF THE IN-FER-I-OR RACES. WITH-OUT IT, YOUR COUN-CIL WOULD COLLAPSE OUT OF SHAME, CRUSHED UNDER ITS IN-EV-I-TAB-LE IG-NOM-I-NY!

Librarian: Wait just a moment!

Morgan: Hold on, Librarian. I've almost got it lined up.

Librarian: You have what lined up?

Morgan: Three... two... one...

[A dull boom sounds from under Morgan's seat, followed shortly by a barely visible ripple in space. The Dalek Fearn, who in his pace-like rolling about had unfortunately moved between the Tigereye Castellan spot on the table and the still-open door once every twenty-eight seconds, is propelled through the opening, not stopping until he hits the opposing wall with a thump. Triumphantly, Morgan stands up from her chair, places a faintly-crackling apparatus on the table in front of her, walks over to the door, and loudly closes it.]

Morgan: Consider the Continuity Council defended. [sits back down] Now, where exactly were we? I could've sworn we were almost onto something.

Fisherman: Something about whether one of us gets more work, I think.

Agent: I think it was Dis who was getting something else to do.

Disentangler: And I suppose you'd quite like that, wouldn't you?

Fisherman: I distinctly remember something involving filing cabinets and duct tape.

[Outside the door, Dalek Fearn has shaken off the concussive blast, and has moved close enough to the door to hear the entirety of the last few seconds.]

Fearn: [abnormally quietly] YES. STEP THREE IN THE GLO-RI-OUS TEN-STEP PLAN TO AFFIRM YET ANOTHER AS-PECT OF DALEK SU-PER-I-OR-I-TY IS PROCEEDING A-PACE. NOW TO IN-I-TI-ATE STEP FOUR!

[rolling away]

Fearn: PER-HAPS O-MI-CRON WOULD BE IN-TER-ES-TED IN A COUN-CIL PO-SI-TION.

~

[general arguing as usual]

Notary: ...And, insofar as we, the remaining citizens of Gallifrey, are gathered and in council, [snipped for legalese] ...to rule over the remainder of the organization termed the 'PPC'--

Fisherman: [comes out of a trance] Wait, did you just--

Disentangler: She did. We're not taking over the PPC, Notary!

[dazed silence]

Disentangler: [looks around] I said, we're not taking over the PPC!

Agent: What? Who said we were? Why would we want to?

Fisherman: It was the Notary.

Morgan: Of course it was the Notary. Who else would it be?

Notary: As we possess superior intelligence, although it would be difficult to discern this fact from these gatherings--

Fisherman: Hey!

Reader: You do realize, of course, that it would be extremely difficult for us to actually prove superior intelligence to every single person in HQ? They're pretty varied.

Librarian: [thoughtfully] True, although with all of us together, we might well be--

Morgan: Can we focus? Notary, we're not taking over HQ.

Notary: [snidely] Of course you would curtail the--

Fisherman: Does anyone else hear that?

Disentangler: Hear what?

Agent: Wait, is that--?

Reader: That sounds very familiar...

Librarian: [to the Notary] It is not a question of denying ourselves the right to our proper place, but rather the denial of a wish to stage a coup against the Flowers--

Morgan: We're not staging any coups! No one is staging--

Fisherman: Um, Morgan, Librarian--

Morgan: Not now, busy--

Doctor: ...so, what's going on here, then?

Disentangler: Well, you see, it started when...

[Morgan, the Librarian, and the Notary are now engaged in a shouting match]

Doctor: ...a Continuity Council?

Reader: It's...been interesting. I mean, we've withstood a Dalek invasion--

Fisherman: It was only Fearn, wasn't that much of an invasion--

Reader: --and, well, the Notary's always one to withstand--

Notary: Excuse me?

Reader: --and no one's shown more than a few false alarms in the way of wanting to follow Rassilon, so, generally speaking, we're doing pretty well!

Disentangler: [dryly] We also manage to get things done, from time to time.

Doctor: A Continuity Council.

Morgan: Doctor, when did you get here?

Doctor: Oh, I just--popped in-- [to Notary] um, you were saying?

Notary: You would agree, Doctor, that Time Lords possess superior intellect--

Reader: Oh, do shut up for a change, we can't possibly prove--

Agent: Maybe we should try to. It would keep her quiet, if nothing else--

Morgan: I think you're missing the fact that even if we could prove 'superior intelligence' we won't be staging any coups--

Doctor: What's this, then?

Disentangler: [rolls eyes] The Notary's latest idea is to take over HQ.

Morgan: Nothing to worry about, we stop most of her ideas. Shouldn't you have a companion?

Doctor: She's at home, actually.

Agent: Shouldn't you have regenerated by now?

Doctor: Oi! Nothing wrong with this body!

Reader: [quietly] Well, if you like floppy hair...

Fisherman: And bow-ties, for that matter.

Librarian: Could we perhaps return to our true objective for this meeting?

Morgan: Yes, of course.

[pause]

Doctor: So, what's this meeting about? Vacations? Intelligence? Jammy dodgers?

Fisherman: I think it had something to do with mapping Gallifrey's position in the sky from multiple planets...and there was definitely something about duct tape and the Notary…

Doctor: No, no, no, you can't map Gallifrey's position, it doesn't have a position, it's... lost.

Fisherman: Well clearly it isn't - you saved it - locking it in a subcontinuum. Shouldn't be all that hard to find.

Doctor: A subwhat?

Disentangler: Don't tell me there's some technobabble that you don't know, Doctor?

Notary: Hardly babble, Disentangler - a subcontinuum is a...

Morgan: Yes. We know what a subcontinuum is.

Doctor: Well I don't!

Agent: [whispers to the Doctor] You know jumpers? And you've got all these fibers that make it up? If that's a continuum, a subcontinuum is like a bobble on the jumper. It's part of it but... not part of it. Does that help?

Doctor: [whispers back] Not really... why are we whispering. Everyone's staring at us.

Agent: I didn't want theNotarytostartcorrectingme

Librarian: Not an unwise decision.

Notary: Children. All of you are children, bickering and squawking back and forth.

Reader: Oh really? How old are you, then, Notary?

Notary: When you address me, you address the office of Spinel Promontor - adjust your tone to suit, Citrine Theorist.

Librarian: You avoided the question, 'Spinel Promontor' - how old are you?

Notary: As if it is relevant - 186.

Fisherman: Excellent!

Librarian: What about the Notary being 186 is excellent?

Fisherman: Well, I was seriously worried about being the youngest one here...

Disentangler: [Bursts out laughing] Hang on! 186? I was still doing my research project at the Academy when I was 186.

Notary: Which shows a distinct lack of academic aptitude, clearly.

Doctor: I never finished mine - I wasn't allowed. They never could get over that incident with the rhinoceros and the kangaroos.

Notary: So it was you who inspired those safety posters - I might have known.

Morgan: [Retrieves a small microphone like device from under the table] OKAY! EVERYBODY PLEASE SHUT YOUR RESPECTIVE PIE HOLES!

Fisherman: What on many, many Earths is that?

Morgan: AN AMPLIFICATION DEVICE. MAYBE YOU'LL LISTEN TO ME NOW. CAN WE PLEASE GET BACK TO THE TOPIC AT HAND!

Fisherman: [Wrestles amplification device away from Morgan] AND WHAT IS THAT?

Morgan: Well, I think it was...

[Morgan is interrupted by the materialisation of another TARDIS: a large blue box that just happened to land right in front of the exit door.]

Morgan: ...er... hold that thought.

Doctor: Well I don't remember this at all...

[The doors of the newly-arrived TARDIS open and the stocky figure of the Ninth Doctor steps out.]

9th Doctor: Oh, hello. Who are you lot then?

11th Doctor: I remember, it's the Northern one - hello there! Wow... I'd almost forgotten about the ears, those are quite something.

Reader: Er, Morgan - I think we might have found our first official item of business, because I'm pretty sure what's happening right now can't actually happen.

Morgan: [Stunned silence]

Disentangler: Oh, come on, now there's two of him?

9th Doctor: Two? Two of... [He locks gaze with the 11th Doctor] ... oh. Right.

11th Doctor: Yes. Exactly.

9th Doctor: Well, the one in yellow's right - this can't happen.

11th Doctor: You'd be amazed how often I hear that.

9th Doctor: Oh, I know. 'That's impossible, Doctor!' 'Doctor, that doesn't make any sense!' 'Doctor, I don't-'

11th Doctor: '-understand!' Yep, that's the one. And it's always the women, have you noticed?

9th Doctor: Well, there's Ricky-

11th Doctor: Yes, no, actually, that was rubbish, what I just said. Never mind.

Librarian: Regardless of whether this is physically possible, it certainly should not happen. The chances of even one TARDIS simply landing in HQ are unbelievably low-

The Reader: Mine did!

Morgan: And mine.

Notary: And, much though it pains me to admit it, mine.

Morgan: [Turning to the Notary] Wait a minute... I remember you.

Notary: Well, I would hope so! I am the Spinel-

Morgan: No, before that... in Arcadia. You misfiled my mother's tax return!

Notary: You must be mistaken. I would never 'misfile' anything.

Morgan: Antrilovorasilendar, First Taxation-Related Intermediary of the Arcadian 7th District Council Reasonable Expenses Subcommittee. It was you - I'd recognise that supercilious attitude anywhere.

Notary: I hardly think my-

Morgan: But you must be... why did you say you were 186?

Notary: I beg your pardon?

Morgan: When the Librarian asked.

Notary: I said no such thing. I am 682, and would never say otherwise - unlike certain Time Lords.

11th Doctor: What? Me? What? Am I in this conversation now?

Morgan: No. Maybe. Hey, Fisherman?

Fisherman: [Through the amplification device] YES?

Morgan: Give. [Morgan grabs the amplification device] HEY, EVERYONE. LISTEN UP.

[The room slowly falls into silence]

Morgan: Thank you. Who here remembers the Notary saying she was 186?

[The Fisherman, Librarian, and Disentangler raise their hands]

Morgan: And who thinks she said 682?

[The 11th Doctor, the Notary, and the Reader raise their hands]

Disentangler: [To the Agent] So what did you hear?

Agent: Oh, I was ignoring her.

Disentangler: Good plan.

[The two Doctors exchange a look]

11th Doctor: Right - this is where it gets interesting. So we all remember her saying different things, right before he showed up.

9th Doctor: Oy, watch it with the 'he'.

11th Doctor: Sorry, 'Oncoming Storm'. What I'm getting at is-

9th Doctor: A temporal fold. Two slightly different versions of the timeline, one in which I arrive after that conversation, one where you show up before it. Right?

11th Doctor: Right.

9th Doctor: And that can't happen.

11th Doctor: Clearly, it can. There's no point arguing the fact.

9th Doctor: No, but that can't happen. The power requirements to maintain a temporal fold even for a second are unimaginable! Even before Gallifrey fell-

Reader: But Gallifrey is-

Disentangler: Shh! He doesn't know, remember? He's in the wrong place in his timeline!

9th Doctor: What don't I know?

[Silence]

Notary: Oh, quite a lot of things, renegade. Decency, decorum, the minutiae of laws regarding theft-

9th Doctor: [seething] What. Don't. I. Know?

Fisherman: How to juggle?

11th Doctor: Oooh, I know how to juggle, and I learned ages ago, which means he probably does too.

Notary: And in what way could that possibly be considered to be relevant?

11th Doctor: I just wanted to make a contribution.

Notary: Then kindly refrain from making any more, they're neither wanted or needed.

Morgan: Notary?

Notary: Yes?

Morgan: Glass houses, Notary.

Notary: Excuse me?

9th Doctor: Oh, I see what you're doing. It's a distraction. Very clever, love the bickering, really makes it believable.

Morgan: ... You think I'm faking how much I hate that b-

9th Doctor: But it's not going to work, now TELL ME!

Notary: [sighing] We can't, renegade.

9th Doctor: Can't or won't?

Notary: Choose whichever answer is most amenable to you; the consequences are the same.

Morgan: It's about your future, if that helps. Don't want to spawn any paradoxes in HQ, the janitors hate having to clear 'em up.

9th Doctor: Nice try.

11th Doctor: Look, ears-me.

9th Doctor: You what?

11th Doctor: Just... me, then. There's a lot you can't know. There's a lot you have to do before you can get to where I am.

9th Doctor: Does that include getting my dress sense erased?

11th Doctor: Hey, bow ties are cool - doesn't matter. The point is, the actual pointiest point of it is, that... well, not everything stays dead. You can't know how I know that until you're standing here on my side of the room.

9th Doctor: Heh.

Disentangler: Uh, did I miss the funny part?

9th Doctor: [smiling wide, but with the anger of a god behind his eyes] Not at all. It just... makes sense. I met a Dalek a few days ago, well, a few days ago for me, subjective time and so on. It thought it was the last, they're never the last, so what we did... what I did... it was all for nothing, wasn't it? All for absolutely nothing. We lost. The Time Lords lost. And that's the biggest joke of all, isn't it? That we all fought and died for absolutely nothing.

11th Doctor: I'm-

9th Doctor: Sorry? Is that the word that was going to dance merrily out of your mouth? You're sorry?

11th Doctor: No. I'm just going to let you believe all that because you're not ready to accept how wrong you are about it. Not yet. Not for a while.

9th Doctor: ... How wrong?

11th Doctor: I can't say. You know I can't. You know the rules.

9th Doctor: Hmph. Well, when have either of us cared about the rules?

Notary: [shoving a hand in her pocket] Councillors, let us put it to a vote. All those in favour of, in theory, informing the younger Doctor of his homeworld's fate?

[A few hands rise. Morgan gapes at the Notary.]

Morgan: You've snapped. You've finally up and snapped-

Notary: [whispering to Morgan] I have an idea, one I'm surprised you didn't think of. [louder] And those opposed?

[An equal number of hands]

Notary: Tigereye Castellan, you have the deciding vote.

Morgan: I... vote in favour.

Notary: Excellent. The motion is carried. Older Doctor, it is the will of this Council that you explain the events of the Last Day of the Time War to your younger self.

11th Doctor: But... what about-

Notary: This Council will hold you in its contempt should you not do so.

11th Doctor: Oh, will it now?

Notary: Yes it will. Chop chop, renegade. You're running late.

[The 11th Doctor sighs and shakes his head, then begins to tell the 9th Doctor what happened in the serial Day Of The Doctor. The latter is so engrossed in the telling that he doesn't notice the Notary palming something from the pocket of her robes. Finally, the tale ends.]

9th Doctor: They survived?

11th Doctor: Locked away, outside of time. But this is your future, and you shouldn't know it.

Notary: And you won't.

9th Doctor: What- [He is interrupted by a flash of red light. The Notary tucks her neuralyser away in her pocket and begins to set up some details]

Morgan: Huh. That was kinda obvious, now that I think about it. Wait, where did you even get that?

Notary: Stores. I filled out the requisition forms in triplicate some time ago as a matter of course.

Agent: Is that how you get off or something? I mean, glass of wine, smooth jazz, rose petals leading up the stairs to some 15-Bs that have to be filled in, that's romantic to you, right?

Notary: Were it to be so, Amethyst Keeper, I guarantee that you would be the last person I choose for such an endeavour.

Agent: Oh, thanks.

Notary: You are quite welcome, Amethyst Keeper.

9th Doctor: So, fun as all this was, it doesn't answer the question: how did both of us get here?

Fearn: THROUGH THE WORKINGS OF SUP-REME CHANCELLOR FEARN, SUP-REME CHANCELLOR OF THE HIGH COUNCIL OF THE DA-LEKS!

[Fearn rolls into the room]

Fearn: THE LAST STEPS ARE BEING PUT IN-TO PLACE FOR THE IN-EV-IT-A-BLE TRI-UMPH OF THE DA-LEKS!

9th Doctor: Dalek! Back, all of you! Get back!

[He and Eleven run to the front of the group, sonic screwdrivers pointed at Fearn]

Fearn: AND WHAT, PRECISELY, DO YOU INTEND TO DO WITH THOSE, DOC-TORS? UNSCREW MY TRAVEL MACHINE CASING?

11th Doctor: Regrettably, I almost agree with him. This may not have been the best plan.

9th Doctor: Since when was this ever a plan? [Neat] And when did they start making blue Daleks?

11th Doctor: Well, I've seen Daleks in blue before, saw a whole rainbow of Daleks once, though none were this one's frankly delightful and decidedly non-terrifying shade of robins-egg.

Fearn: I AM EM-PY-RE-AN! IT WAS A THE-SAUR-US MIX-UP!

9th Doctor: You're a bit mixed-up yourself, I'd say. Look at you, another washed-up dreg of the Dalek race, probably here to wipe out the last few Time Lords in existence-

Librarian: [Whispered to the Notary] He recovered quickly.

Notary: A neuralyzed mind is a very flexible structure. Besides, I pre-loaded the new memories. I don't like taking risks.

9th Doctor: [Continues, not having heard the previous exchange] -and you can't even be organized about it! Look at you, just bounding in announcing your so-called victory and babbling about thesauruses, and you've not even tried firing a single shot! I'd already thought the Daleks had hit their peak of delusion, but I see you can still top yourselves!

Fearn: YOU ASSUME TOO MUCH, DOC-TOR. I CAN SEE WHERE YOUR FUTURE SELF OVER THERE GAINED HIS TOWERING ARROGANCE FROM.

11th Doctor: Oy!

[Morgan stands up from her seat abruptly]

Morgan: All three of you, shut it!

[The Doctors look over at Morgan, while simultaneously keeping Fearn within their sight.]

Morgan: It's my responsibility to protect this Council, and that includes keeping these meetings from devolving into a series of unnecessary brawls. I have enough of that to do without unexpected visitors coming in and aggrieving one another. Doctors, Fearn is not a threat.

Fearn: I RESENT THAT!

Morgan: [Groan] Not a threat to us.

Fearn: ...BETTER.

9th Doctor: Oh, of course, the Dalek who just barged in here shouting about its race's inevitable triumph is completely docile. The last time I met a Dalek who was supposedly "harmless", it ended up, surprise, surprise, killing hundreds of unprepared people! I'm not letting that happen again.

Librarian: It won't. Fearn has been instilled with something called the "human factor". You have seen it before, in your second incarnation, if I recall correctly. It alters the Dalek psyche, disabling some of their pre-conditioned restrictive processes and enabling a wider range of non-aggressive action.

Disentangler: Translated, he's friendly. More or less. It's not as though he doesn't cause problems, but they aren't of the "trying to kill you" variety. Trust us.

[Eleven turns off his sonic screwdriver. Nine scowls, but does the same a few moments later]

11th Doctor: Fine, then. What would a so-called "friendly Dalek" have to gain by sending two time-displaced versions of the same person, their race's greatest enemy no less, into unfamiliar territory?

Fearn: YOUR TOWERING ARR-O-GANCE SHOWS ITSELF ONCE A-GAIN, DOC-TOR.

Disentangler: Fearn, this would go quicker for all of us if you just stop with the insults and answer the question.

Fearn: ...FINE. YOU, DOC-TORS, WERE NOT THE FO-CUS OF OUR PLAN! THE AR-RI-VALS OF THE ON-COM-ING STORM AND THE HUN-TER OF SLORP WERE A SIDE EF-FECT!

Reader: "Our" plan? Who else is involved here?

11th Doctor: "Hunter of Slorp?"

Fearn: JUST LIKE A TIME LORD TO FOCUS ON THE DE-TAILS BEFORE THE WHOLE! IF YOU MUST KNOW, I AM CURRENTLY COLLABORATING WITH DA-LEK OMICRON AND DA-LEK CHAR-LIE ON-

9th Doctor: Hold on. There's a Dalek named Charlie?

Fearn: YES. HE WAS THE FIRST TO AC-CEPT MY-

9th Doctor: Is he baby-blue, too?

Fearn: HE IS NOT, I AM EM-PY-RE-AN, AND STOP IN-TERR-UP-TING ME!

Reader: You're the one who keeps barging in here, you know. Well, barged in twice, anyway. We can't exactly get a council going with all of these interruptions.

Fearn: [Faces the Council table] YES, BECAUSE YOU ARE DIS-PAR-ATE AND IN-COM-PAT-I-BLE. WHILE THE TIME LORDS WERE FORCED TO TRAWL THROUGH THEIR IN-SIG-NI-FI-CANT STORE OF A-GENTS TO SELECT COUN-CILL-ORS, THE DA-LEKS, SPEARHEADED BY THE GLO-RI-OUS KNOWLEDGE AND AC-TION OF MY-SELF, FEARN, HAVE BEEN SCOURING THE MY-RI-AD OF WORLDS FOR ALL POSS-I-BLE VAR-I-A-TIONS ON THE DA-LEK FORM! TRULY OUR SU-PER-I-OR-I-TY IS UNMATCHED IN THE COSMOS!

Agent: Is that what you've been trying to tell us this whole time? Because honestly, that didn't tell anyone of much of anything. Normally, when you give someone new information, it helps if you explain it.

Fisherman: Wait, I think he's talking about the temporal fold.

Fearn: I SEE THAT NOT ALL TIME LORDS ARE IN-CAP-A-BLE OF DE-DUC-TION!

Fisherman: Did you cause that? How would you even know how to do that?

Fearn: I AM A STRA-TE-GIST OF THE DA-LEKS, WITH YEARS OF EX-PER-I-ENCE IN THE DE-PART-MENT OF TEM-PO-RAL OFF-EN-SES! THERE-FORE, I AM AN UN-PAR-ALL-ELLED SUPER-GENIUS SLASH CY-BORG SLASH TIME TRAVEL EXPERT. I AM QUITE SURE THAT I KNOW WHAT I AM DOING.

Morgan: I don't think the cyborg bit helps much with that.

Fearn: I BELIEVE IT DOES.

9th Doctor: So, let me get this straight. You've been creating temporal folds, which have the well-deserved reputation of being dangerous and quite possibly threatening to local causality, summoning other Daleks to... wherever this is, and generally trying for an amateur-hour run of mucking about with space-time- (turns to the Disentangler) -and this is the nice Dalek?

Disentangler: I said he was friendly. Not nice.

Fearn: WHY IS IT THAT ONLY THE DA-LEKS REFUSE TO PUSH AWAY THE RISKS OF INN-O-VA-TION? YOU TIME LORDS WOULD MONITOR YOUR PEOPLE FROM THE DI-LU-TED PER-SPEC-TIVE OF A SINGLE BATCH OF DRIF-TERS, OUT-CASTS AND RE-NE-GADES, SIM-PLY BECAUSE YOU SEE POSSIBLE HARM IN STRETCHING YOUR BOUNDARIES. ON-LY THREE DA-LEKS WERE IN-TER-ES-TED IN COUN-CIL PO-SI-TIONS, SO WE USED OUR TEM-POR-AL FOLD TO BRING IN MORE RE-CRUITS! THERE ARE THOU-SANDS OF WORD WORLDS, MILL-IONS OF POSS-I-BLE UN-I-VER-SES, AND A SIMPLE DIS-TOR-TION OF SPACE AND TIME COULD OVERLAP THE SPA-CI-ALLY AM-BI-GU-OUS HALLS OF HEAD-QUAR-TERS WITH A-NY OF THEM! THE DA-LEK HIGH COUNCIL IS NOW COM-POSED OF THE BEST AND GREA-TEST OF THE DA-LEKS, OF ALL FACTIONS AND SUB-TYPES! I EX-PEC-TED THE DOC-TOR TO IN-VES-TI-GATE THE DIS-RUP-TION OF TEM-POR-AL PRO-GRESSION, OF COURSE, THOUGH I HAD PREDICTED ON-LY ONE INSTANCE. IT IS IN THE DOC-TOR'S NA-TURE TO FLY RIGHT IN-TO AN-Y-THING HE DOES NOT UN-DER-STAND.

11th Doctor: Got me pegged there, mate.

Fearn: [Angry staccato] WHAT IS IT WITH YOU TIME LORDS AND IN-TERR-UP-TING MY MON-O-LOGUES TO-DAY‽ [Fearn briefly pauses, and performs a feat that would be unthinkable for any non-humanized Dalek: calming down slightly] NOW IF I MAY CON-TIN-UE-

Notary: Hold it! I was going to say something when you erroneously labelled me a renegade [The Notary rankles at the very thought], but this is just going too far.

Fearn: YOU WOULD OP-POSE THE OB-VI-OUS TRUTH OF THE DA-

Notary: I wasn't finished! You're claiming to have, between this meeting and the last one, set up something to allow you to overlap this timeline with an inconceivable number of others, just so that you could pull random Daleks into our reality and ask them if they'd like to me members of your imitation council. Never mind the poor planning involved in literally every step of that, no three Agents would have the resources to enact that plan, even if they were, in your words, "supergenius cyborgs". Besides, the power drain on the DoDAEG generators would cause another blackout before the fold could stay in place for ten seconds. You are just, once again, trying to use the problems that this council has experienced to draw attention to yourself by claiming responsibility for them. In layman's terms, you're bluffing.

Librarian: Notary, I believe that you are disregarding one irrefutable fact. The fold does still exist, even if the Daleks are not causing it. In fact, this Council has directly experienced its effects.

Fisherman: You took the words right from my mouth, Librarian. Well, not really, since I'd have said them slightly differently. But still, Notary, you should know about the fold better than anyone, since your timeline was overlapped so much that for at least a few minutes you were replaced with a five-hundred-years younger doppelgänger who wanted to take over HQ!

Notary: It is not my fault if my fellow Councillors mishear me. I stated my precise age, and if you choose to believe otherwise, you may.

Fisherman: She called herself "Spinel Promontor"! Promontor isn't even a word in our reality!

Notary: [Ignoring him] I propose that, even if Fearn were, for some inexplicable reason, the cause of the alleged disruption, he would not be able to maintain it long enough to get anything through it, let alone a cross-multiversal squad of Daleks!

Fearn: I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO SAY THAT. [Turns to the door] FELLOW DA-LEK COUN-CILL-ORS! YOU MAY NOW ENTER!

[A Scientist Dalek rolls into the room, flanked by a Time War Dalek and a Crucible Dalek. The two gold-colored Daleks move to opposite sides of the room, one of the two turning to face the Doctors, and the other to face the Council table]

Fearn: [Spins toward the Scientist Dalek] DA-LEK LAT! REPORT! REPORT!

Lat: SUPREME CHANCELLOR FEARN! CROSS-TEMPORAL SYNCHRONIZATION HAS SURPASSED SEVENTY PERCENT! THE DALEK HIGH COUNCIL HAS REACHED ITS HIGHEST RATE OF POTENTIAL CANDIDATE TRANSPORT!

Fearn: EX-CELL-ENT! YOUR PO-SI-TION AS TEMPORAL OVERSEER SHALL GO UNCHALLENGED FOR-

Lat: WARNING: THE NULL SPACES HOUSING THE VARIANT FORMS OF HEADQUARTERS CONTINUE TO OVERLAP. ANOMALOUS TRANSPOSITION OF DENIZENS MAY RESULT IF FURTHER SYNCHRONIZATION IS ATTEMPTED WITH THE CURRENT INCREASE IN CROSS-TEMPORAL PACE.

Fearn: ENOUGH. WE WILL DIS-CUSS THIS LA-TER.

[Fearn turns toward the Councillors again, regarding them with a swoop of his eyestalk. Somehow, despite the inability of a Dalek travel machine to show visible emotion, Fearn seems to be emitting waves of smug triumph.]

Fearn: WELL, TIME LORDS? DO YOU DOUBT ME NOW?

[The Time Lords all stare at the congregation (squadron? council? murder?) of Daleks with a mixture of befuddlement, annoyance, and dread.]

9th Doctor: You have got to be kidding me.

11th Doctor: No, no, wait, wait. What did he say? [points to Lat]

Lat: THE NULL SPACES HOUSING THE VA-RI-ANT FORMS OF –

Fearn: [cutting him off] YOU WILL CEASE DIS-CUSSING THIS MA-TTER WITH THE TIME LORDS!

Disentangler: He said that we might be looking forward to another Blackout-y sorta thing where random creatures from various continua get pulled in because of this cross-temporal synchronisation. That, or someone’s left the kettle boiling.

Lat: THAT IS AB-SURD. I NE-VER IN-SIN-U-ATED SUCH A THING!

Disentangler: You insinuated at least one of the things.

Lat: BUT I DID NOT IN-SIN-U-ATE ANY-THING ABOUT A KET-TLE. DA-LEKS DO NOT USE KET-TLES!

Fisherman: But then how do you make the tea?

Lat: [in a poshly offended tone] I AM A SCI-EN-TIST DA-LEK. SCI-EN-TIST DA-LEKS DO NOT MAKE TEA.

Agent: [sounding just as affronted, though less posh] What’s the point of you, then?

Fearn: YOU WILL CEASE THIS MIND-LESS BI-CKER-ING AND RE-TURN TO YOUR STA-TION! THE HU-MAN FAC-TOR WAS AD-MIN-I-STERED TO PRE-VENT YOU FROM EX-TER-MIN-ATING YOUR SUP-REME CHAN-CEL-LOR, NOT TO AL-LOW YOU TO BA-BBLE INANELY ABOUT TEA AND KET-TLES.

Lat: INANE BA-BBLE IS HU-MAN. AS IS CLUE-DO.

Reader: Oh, for the love of Omega –

[From her position, Morgan seemed to have regained her cool after the initial shock of seeing the three new Daleks appearing in the room.]

Morgan: Party’s over, buds. [She gestures menacingly at the Dalek Concussor that she had used on Fearn previously.] Time to pack it in and let it go, or else I’ll –

Fearn: [cutting Morgan off] DALEK RHO, REPORT!

[The Crucible Dalek rolls forward.]

Rho: THE CAN-DI-DATES ARE TRANS-POR-TING. COUN-CIL-LORS OMI-CRON AND CHAR-LIE ARE FA-CILI-TA-TING THE AD-MIN-I-STRA-TION OF THE HU-MAN FAC-TOR!

Morgan: [groaning] Just what we bloody needed!

Notary: It's another bluff, I daresay.

11th Doctor: No, no, they’ve got that thing, that pathy-webby thing.

Fearn: EX-ACTLY SO. SOON WE WILL A-MASS MORE THAN A MERE COUNCIL AGAINST THE TIME LORDS –

9th Doctor: I still can’t believe you’re all telling me that this is the friendly one.

Agent: It’s all relative.

Fearn: CAN YOU NOT INTERRUPT ME IN THE MIDDLE OF MY EXPOSTULATION?

Agent: Sorry, mate.

Fearn: AS I WAS SAY-ING, SOON WE WILL A-MASS MORE THAN A MERE COUNCIL AGAINST THE TIME LORDS, AND WE WILL SHOW ALL OF HQ WHO THE TRULY SU-PREME –

Rho: SUP-REME CHAN-CE-LLOR FEARN, WE HAVE EN-COUN-TERED A PROB-LEM.

Fearn: EX-TER-MIN-ATE IT.

Fisherman: [drily] Because that’ll totally solve everything.

Librarian: No, no, there is something wrong. The time folds themselves are becoming distorted.

Reader: And how would you know that?

Librarian: Right over there. [Pointing the doorway just behind the Time War Dalek.]

[The Time Lords and the Daleks all turn to see a creature standing in the doorway – a humanoid figure with Dalek bumps lining his sides and electric blue eyes.]

Creature: I AM DA-LEK BEAU.

[Morgan squints suspiciously at the creature before grabbing the Dalek Concussor and firing a bolt or two at it. The creature flies back, momentarily taken by surprise. Morgan sets down the Concussor with a glare.]

Morgan: That’s it. That’s bloody it. We’re going to have to close off these stupid rifts, before more of those things come through.

Notary: I do not believe I have ever encountered –

Morgan: SHUT UP!

[Shocked into silence, the Notary blinks at Morgan]

Morgan: [pointing to the concussed creature] That’s a Dalek Stu.

Fisherman: [eyes wide] That’s what a – what kind of Suefic would have a –

Librarian: So there is a Suvian element involved in these time rifts –

Disentangler: How on Gallifrey did you recognise the Dalek Stu, Morgan? I don’t think any of us have ever encountered a Sue desperate enough to make a Dalek fall in love –

Morgan: Yeah, well, beware of what you encounter in the Circle of Lemmings. Eleven encountered the Sue who more or less created him.

11th Doctor: I did?

9th Doctor: I think Chins and I are equally lost about this thing.

11th Doctor: Hey! My chin is perfectly fine!

Morgan: [ignoring the Eleventh Doctor] Good. [She turns to Fearn] You don’t want this Dalek Stu running around.

Fearn: WE ARE IN AG-REE-MENT FOR ONCE.

Morgan: Then you’re going to accept our help in closing the temporal rift before the rest of them get through.

Fearn: ... ACCEPTABLE.

Morgan: It had better be. All right, 'Supreme Chancellor' Fearn, tell the Citrine Theorist everything you know. To my knowledge no-one's ever closed a temporal fold before it blew, so we have to move fast. Sapphire Watcher, Amethyst Keeper, I'd really rather be wrong about that, so I need you to scour the canon and find anything that even <i>might</i> be helpful. Jade Warden, you're on monitor duty: work with Lat and Rho to keep track of everything that's-

Reader: Hang on a minute-

Notary: -why are you in charge?

[They glare at each other for a second, angry at having agreed on something]

Morgan: [Icy] What is my job?

Reader: Tigereye Castellan. What-?

Morgan: And what does that entail?

Notary: Defending the Council.

Morgan: Then let me bloody well defend it!

[Deafening silence. Everyone stares at Morgan]

Morgan: Jade Warden, if anything really bad shows up, tell the Doctors. I'm deputising them to Dalek elimination duty.

11th Doctor: Wait, what? Why?

Morgan: Because you're so good at it. Spinel Promotor... you're on Dalek distraction duty. Stop Fearn's 'Council' from causing any more havoc.

Notary: And how do you intend me to do that?

Morgan: I don't know, file their taxes or something. Just do it!

[Everyone scurries to work. Nine comes over to Morgan]

9th Doctor: You've changed. You're not the kid I once knew.

Morgan: Yeah. Things have been... difficult, these last few years.

9th Doctor: The Time War?

Morgan: Mm. [The Librarian taps her on the arm and shows her a tablet. She grimaces] We've got a Special Weapons Dalek in the Mongoose Shelter. Doctors, can you contain it?

11th Doctor: Just tell us where to go.

Fisherman: I'll show you. [He shrugs] Not like I'm doing anything else around here...

[Some time passes. Morgan is standing at the head of the table, which is now covered in books, CDs, DVDs, portable computers, the works]

Morgan: Yellow, what've we got?

Reader: It's not just a single fold any more. According to Fearn, there's at least eight layers to the thing. It's going to be murder to sort out.

Morgan: Thanks. Blue, Pink, I hope you've come up with something.

Agent: It's purple!

Disentangler: It's pink, I'm afraid. Uh, no actual temporal folds, but plenty of loops, pockets and the like. We're thinking the best comparison to this event is a slow-motion time ram - two TARDISes crashing into each other.

Reader: In that case, the simplest way of solving it would be to just pull the folds apart again.

11th Doctor: That doesn't sound simple to me.

Librarian: It sounds like a recipe for a massive temporal implosion.

Agent: That's what we're facing anyway! But if the Reader's right-

Reader: It's my job to be right. If we anchor a TARDIS to each of the folds, we can yank them apart - set everything back to normal.

Librarian: We will have to move fast. The last refolding brought full-on Alternate Universes into play - we have Thaleks coming in now.

Morgan: Red? Is it possible?

Fisherman: Depends how much you like your TARDIS. It'll knock years of the warranty, I can tell you that much - but they should be able to pull through.

Librarian: The alternative is the TARDISes being the only things left after Headquarters is destroyed in a cataclysmic explosion.

Morgan: Green's right. We- [She pauses, sighs, and turns to the Notary. Very formally:] Spinel Promotor, do you have anything to say about this course of action?

Notary: Only that it is the riskiest, most reckless, most improbably, and generally downright unworkable plan I have ever heard.

[Silence, for just long enough that Morgan starts to turn away.

Notary: But.

[Morgan turns back and gapes at her as the Notary gives a small smile]

Notary: It is also our only chance - and it is a work of genius.

Morgan: ... thank you, Grey. And all of you - thank you. TARDIS keys, everyone!

[She fishes in a pocket to produce an ornate key, while the Doctors pull out their simple Yale keys. The Notary hesitantly follows suit, followed by the Reader and the Fisherman. The Agent and the Disentangler glance at each other, and the Agent feels in his pocket and produces a key]

Morgan: Librarian?

Librarian: I told you. I walked here from my group's TARDIS - I do not have one with me.

[Morgan crumples]

Morgan: Then this has all been a waste of time. We don't have time to find another ship - and without it, we won't have enough to fix the fold before it collapses. Omega's teeth, we were so close!

[Fearn swivels his dome to look at Lat and Rho, then turns back to Morgan]

Fearn: WE HAVE A TIME SHIP.

[Morgan turns slowly to stare at him]

Fearn: WHAT? DID YOU EXPECT OTHERWISE? DA-LEKS ARE SUPREME! THE LENGTH AND BREADTH OF TIME ARE UNDER OUR CONTROL!

[Slowly, a smile breaks out on Morgan's face]

Morgan: Fearn - I might just start to like you. All right, Councils - let's fly!

[The TARDISes of the Council (plus the Dalek Time Ship) materialise in their chamber one by one, and everyone emerges... save one.]

Fisherman: I don't wanna jinx this, but... where did the Notary go?

Librarian: 1875 is not that far away from here, even in robes and a big stupid collar.

Agent: Maybe she died?

Morgan: We're not that lucky.

Agent: Aw.

[The traditional TARDIS materialisation sound echoes through the chamber, followed by a distinct lack of TARDIS. A few seconds later, a very large beige photocopier plummets to the ground and smashes the table. Smoke billows from the lid as it flips up to reveal the back of the Notary]

Notary: WHY DID YOU STOP YOU USELESS - Oh, we're here. Ahem. [She straightens her Big Stupid Collar] Shall we begin?

Fisherman: That is your TARDIS.

Notary: Yes, a Type 89-

Fisherman: That. Is your TARDIS.

Notary: Yes it is, Ruby Shipwright, get to the point-

Fisherman: [shoving past her] Poor baby! What did the nasty walking Filofax do to you? [He continues in similar vein for the next few minutes]

Morgan: Well, that explains why you didn't want to give me the key.

Fisherman: [from rather far away] Nails are not supposed to replace fuses in the drive transmission!

11th Doctor: How long have you had her?

Fisherman: Did you - the oscillator control board is not supposed to be glued on!

Notary: [rather stiffly] It is a museum piece, and one so completely useless it might have been built in a human yard.

Fisherman: The fire suppression system's on fire!

Notary: Yes, Ruby Shipwright! Message received and understood! Now calm down, you're embarrassing yourself and this Council!

Fisherman: I'll calm down when you stop using your helmic regulator to store paperclips!

Notary: They're the only things holding it-

[There is a noise like a duck being sat on, followed by the sound of moderately unpleasant electrocution.]

Notary: -together.

Fearn: SEE, MEMBERS OF THE DA-LEK COUNCIL! SEE HOW THE TIME LORDS DEVOLVE INTO BIC-KER-ING IN THE FACE OF SUPERIOR DA-LEK TEMPORAL TECH-NOLOGY! LET US GUF-FAW AT THEM!

Lat: BY ORDER OF THE SUP-REME CHAN-CELL-OR OF THE DA-LEK COUN-CIL, GUF-FAW-ING SHALL COM-MENCE! GUF-FAW! GUF-FAW! GUF-FAW!

Morgan: And now they've set them off. Y'know, some days, I just don't know why I get out of bed.

[The Notary is the subject of many, many glares, and this time has the decency to look embarrassed.]

Reader: Notary, do you do anything except make us look bad?

Agent: She also talks the back wheels off a bus for no good reason, can't forget that.

Morgan: Look, everybody just shut up. Including you. [She gestures at the Daleks with her Concussor, and they fall silent] Red, can you fix this TARDIS?

Fisherman: This alleged TARDIS might hold together long enough, but I can't say for sure. Hush now, sweetie, it's gonna be okay.

Notary: What is it with renegades and treating TARDISes like people? It's not a Type-103, it's not sentient.

11th Doctor: Oh, all TARDISes are a bit alive, right from the word go. It's how they're made. Even the Type I's were, though they were mostly grumpy old codgers shaking a walking stick at you from their living room.

Disentangler: Now who does that remind me of?

Notary: [with an air of defeat] Look, it was all I could get, alright? The Dromeian Chapter is not noted for its lavish funding.

Fisherman: Hold up. This is a Dromeian 89?

Notary: Yes, what of it.

Fisherman: These were blockade runners in the Time War, they're basically indestructible. We're in business!

Librarian: What is a minor bureaucrat doing in charge of a blockade runner?

Notary: [turning away] I don't like to talk about it.

Morgan: Then don't. Everyone, report to your TARDISes. I'll set up a conference call from mine.

[Exeunt omnes, save the Notary and The Fisherman. He emerges from her TARDIS a few minutes later, lightly charred and grinning like an idiot.]

Fisherman: It'll last! I think! Probably!

Notary: Must you shout?

Fisherman: What?

Notary: Oh, never mind. Get back to your own TARDIS.

Fisherman: What? I'm going to go to my own TARDIS! See you later!

[He runs, and the Notary sighs and gets back inside the photocopier.]

~

Morgan: Okay, everyone, check in.

Librarian: Jade Warden in position.

Fearn: IN POSI-TION ABOARD THE SU-PER-IOR TIME MAC-HINE-

Librarian: Would it kill you to stop doing that for a moment? I am accompanying you because I do not have-

Morgan: [heading him off] Green's online. Blue?

Disentangler: Sapphire Watcher standing by.

Morgan: Pink?

Agent: I'm here and it's purple.

Morgan: Keep telling yourself that, Pink. Red?

Fisherman: What?

Morgan: Red, check in.

Fisherman: What?

Morgan: ... Screw it, it counts. Yellow?

Reader: Where I need to be and praying to any gods that'll listen that this works.

Morgan: Doctors?

9th Doctor: In position.

11th Doctor: Same here, Tiger Thingy.

Morgan: And, last and by all means least, Grey? [Static] Grey? [More static] Notary, if you've bailed on us-

Notary: - GIVE YOU A DAMNED GOOD THRASHING - ah.

Morgan: Grey?

Notary: I'm in position, against all common sense. Wait a second. Er. Hold on. I might be sort of very slighty on fire.

Morgan: On fire?

Notary: Only slightly.

Agent: I picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue.

Morgan: Okay then, let's fix this mess! Anchor yourself to a particular timeline and pull like crazy!

Notary: That's it?

Morgan: What, you want to make us fill out a Health and Safety form first?

Notary: Well, I do have some on hand, but I was merely surprised. This scrapyard refugee's flaws will actually be useful.

Morgan: What d'you mean?

Notary: The brakes don't work, the accelerator locks on half the time, and it only stays in one direction if I hit the central control nodule with a brick.

Fisherman: It's like watching someone beat up a kitten.

Morgan: Your hearing back, Red?

Fisherman: Nah, I put subtitles on.

Morgan: Let's get pulling! Hold on, it's going to be a bumpy riiiiii-

[Sparks gout from the various panels on the TARDISes' central consoles, and from the Dalek bumps all over their bridge.]

Librarian: Morgan, I am experiencing major piloting difficulties!

Morgan: Already?

Fearn: WE DESIGNED OUR VESSEL TO USE THE SUPERIOR DA-LEK MANI-PU-LATOR AS A MEANS OF CON-TROL! IT IS NOT OUR FAULT THAT INFERIOR SPECIES DO NOT POS-SESS THEM!

Morgan: Just hit it with something and hope!

Agent: There are Sues on board and they're fighting back. I'm not sure I can hold a steady course and deal with them at the same time!

Morgan: Uh, um, Dalek Lat! Teleport over to the Agent's vessel and smoke 'em!

Lat: SO YOU FI-NALLY ACKNOWLEDGE THE SUPERIORITY OF DA-LEK ARMS!

Fisherman: You don't even have arms!

Notary: I must inform the Council that I've completed my initial pass and am coming around for a second attack on a Suvian-generate loop.

Morgan: That's good!

Notary: I must also inform the Council that I am rather more substantially on fire.

Disentangler: That's really good!

Morgan: Not the time! Come on, we're almost - gyah!

[Morgan is accosted from behind by a tall female Humanised Dalek in form-fitting battle armour that shows off her, ahem, larger Dalek bumps. Her TARDIS lurches to one side and a slew of alarms go off. She draws her pistol and hits the Sue square in the eye, but the bullet bounces off and elicits nought but a burst of static]

Fisherman: Morgan, what's happening?

Morgan: I'm under attack! There's a God Mode Sue on my bridge!

Agent: Aim for the heart, not the head!

Morgan: What?

Agent: The Sue's chest is exposed, right? God Mode Sues that die have trajeck deaths, and what's more trajeck than being shot in the heart?

Lat: I CON-SI-DER BEING A MEM-BER OF AN INFERIOR SPE-CIES TO BE MUCH MORE TRA-GIC!

Agent: Trajeck, dude, big difference.

Notary: Hold on, I'm sending you my staser.

Disentangler: Why do you even have one of those?

Notary: For the same reason that I apparently possess a blockade running TARDIS. Sending now.

[There is a metallic thump as a small, snub-nosed staser pistol bounces off of Morgan's control panel and hits her in the head. She grabs it and blasts the Sue twice in the chest, leaving a pair of gaping holes.]

Agent: Why twice?

Morgan: Could've been a Time Lord-Dalek hybrid.

Notary: Oh, I'm going to be sick - [She is. Violently. We're talking Exorcist levels of technicolor-yawn here.]

11th Doctor: I think mine's about to come loose, Morgan.

9th Doctor: Mine's just gone. I hope I see you again, chinny-

[There's static from the 9th Doctor's signal.]

Agent: Doctor?

11th Doctor: He picked his own universe to drag back. It must have pulled him back with it.

Notary: Will that happen to us?

11th Doctor: I'm not sure how it happened to him, if I'm being honest.

Notary: And are you?

Agent: Rule One: the Doctor lies.

11th Doctor: Not this time, honest.

Notary: The word of a renegade means little, but I see no reason to doubt him. Let's just carry on and rendezvous in the Chamber.

Morgan: Right. Wait, your TARDIS trashed the Chamber-

Notary: I'll aim for the corridor.

[One by one, with a lot of shaking control-room scenes from all the Councillors' vessels, the timelines are separated and the multiverse saved. Ish. From this sort of thing. Today. Probably. They return to the Really Very Tiny Auditorium with dazed but happy expressions.]

Morgan: ... We did it. We actually did it.

Fisherman: Yeah! We did what we were supposed to do and saved the day. Go team Continuity!

Morgan: Oh, hey, your hearing's back.

Fisherman: Yes it is.

[The Notary finally limps in, looking like a giant bruise]

Fisherman: And would you look at that, it's gone again. Deaf as a post. Couldn't hear a dropped match in a fireworks factory. I'm gonna go get lunch. [He scurries off into the distance]

Agent: So, um, is this meeting adjourned yet?

Morgan: Not quite. AOB time.

11th Doctor: I do have a little bit more. I mean, I know I'm not an official full-silly-collar member of the Council, but let's not stand on ceremony, eh?

Notary: I want to object but everything hurts.

Morgan: Okay, Doctor, hit us with it.

Notary: Please don't hit me with anything.

11th Doctor: Just a couple of things, really. Literally a couple, there's only two, although frankly that's not a very good way of looking at couples, I mean three's only a crowd if you're in a very small room-

Notary: The point, please?

Librarian: Now that is rich.

11th Doctor: Alright. Point one. I think this is the part where someone normally neuralyses me.

Morgan: Eh, we'll do it when you leave. Sorry, but rules is rules.

11th Doctor: I understand-

Disentangler: Wait, what about your younger self? Nobody neuralysed him!

Agent: He went for the canon universe. I'll pick him up later.

11th Doctor: Good. I had a feeling this place made you forget, and I don't want to remember that you can do that. The other thing concerns her. [He jabs a finger at the Notary] What are you doing with a TARDIS like that and a weapon like that?

Notary: What are you doing with a Type 40, renegade?

11th Doctor: Running. Every single day.

Notary: Then the matter is closed. Tigereye Castellan?

Morgan: Hold up, this doesn't just concern you-

Notary: I fail to see who else it could concern. My TARDIS's origins and the fact that I am armed do not affect my ability to carry out my duties as Spinel Promotor in any meaningful sense. Thus, the matter is of total irrelevance.

Morgan: We have to be able to trust the other Councillors!

Notary: Then I respectfully suggest that you trust me.

Morgan: ... Alright, fine, but this isn't over. Don't think that for a second.

Notary: On the contrary. Unless anyone else has any other business... motion to adjourn?

[The hands of the Councillors shoot up.]

Notary: The motion is carried, and this Council is adjourned.


Disclaimer: Gallifrey, the Time Lords, and the Doctor are from the Doctor Who canon and are the property of the BBC. Morgan is the creation of Huinesoron; the Disentangler and the Agent were created by Tawaki and are now written by Lily Winterwood; the Fisherman is the property of Fish Custard; the Librarian is the creation of Desdendelle; the Reader is the work of DawnFire; the Notary is the creation of wobblestheclown. The stories in this sequence were written variously by Huinesoron, Fish Custard, Lily Winterwood, DawnFire, wobblestheclown, and Outhra.