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Gallifrey Ascendent

Do you swear to uphold the laws of Gallifrey?

 

I swear.

 

Do you swear to follow in the wisdom of Rassilon?

 

I… swear.

 

Do you swear to protect the law and the wisdom?

 

I swear.

 

I invest you Lord President of the Supreme Council. I wish you good fortune and strength. I give you the Matrix.

 

I thank you, Gold Usher. I will address the Council.

 

Of course, your Excellency.

 

My lords and ladies – Time Lords of the Supreme Council – leaders of Gallifrey – I thank you. From the bottom of my hearts, I thank you for your confidence in me, and for your voices in my election as Lady President.

It has been a long and hard road to recovery. The endless preparation for the war with the Daleks changed our great society, and not for the better. Actions were taken which should never have been contemplated.

It is true that Rassilon's renewed reign was one of might and power - but it was also one of fear. The peoples of the infinite universe lived in fear of the Time Lords, and their fear made them strong enough to contemplate attacking Gallifrey itself.

I am here today to speak to you of a universe without fear.

I did not live through the Last Great Time War. I departed Gallifrey, as so many others tried to - as so few managed to. I heard the stories of the Doctor's destruction of our world, and I wept for the parents I would never see again, for the burning skies I would never again walk under.

But that destruction was a lie. We few survivors watched, and waited, and learned of the Moment, of the Doctors' actions. We learned the truth behind the time lock: the mystery of where Gallifrey lay hidden. And when war came in turn to our own places, we came home.

I thanked you before for your confidence, and I will say it again: thank you for believing in the secrets I could not tell you until now. I know there are many rumours about the prize I have promised Gallifrey - an army, a miracle, a way out of this pocket dimension. None of these rumours are true; the truth is far greater.

There are universes out there, universes beyond count; universes of wonder, universes of nightmares, a universe for every fantasy of any race in any world or time. And threaded through this multiverse, imminent and yet aloof, guarding and yet standing by, runs a labyrinth of grey halls.

We call it our Headquarters. And I give it to you.

My companion and I are agents of the organisation known as the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. Our task was to defend the multiverse from harm, just as Gallifrey shielded the timelines of our own reality. But, just as Gallifrey wavered before the might of the Daleks and their allies, the PPC has come face to face with war - and fallen back. The armies and leagues who would bend the multiverse to their own ends are too strong. The PPC could hold them - but could not prevail.

And so I came home. I came to Gallifrey, not to run, not to hide, but to fight. Time Lords of the Supreme Council, I came to you, and in your wisdom you raised me to the highest honour, creating me Lady President. And, in return, I give to you the multiverse.

My TARDIS has the coordinates for Headquarters. The Notary will brief the War Council on what they will find there. And whether the Flowers will or no, Gallifrey will take possession of PPC HQ. For the sake of the multiverse, we must.

My lords and ladies - Time Lords of the Supreme Council – leaders of Gallifrey – I will take no more of your time. We have much to do.


Gallifrey Imminent

Citizens of Gallifrey, I address you now from the Committee Room of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum. The struggle against the holdouts in the PPC - those who chose to resist our battle to defend the multiverse against those who would assail it - has finally come to an end. We have won.

And so, on this day, I present to you a new age - no, a new era in Gallifrey’s history. No longer are we simply Lords of Time; we are now the protectors of the multiverse in its entirety. From the former home of the PPC, we can at last truly watch over all of time and space.

By the time this broadcast reaches you, through the twisting tunnels and portals of PPC HQ, I will have joined with the Lord and Lady Cardinals, and those leaders of the Protectors who wisely chose to stand with us, and inaugurated a new High Council - the Supreme Council of Gallifrey Imminent.

And once the Supreme Council is once more in session, we will discuss the course we must follow to secure the safety of the multiverse. Across every universe, people are suffering, dying, labouring under cruel yokes - but we can relieve them. We can prevent the hardships and pain from ever coming to be. With the powers of the PPC, we can vanquish death itself from the multiverse.

But the road will be long. As with the PPC, there will be those who resist our generosity. And so it is with the greatest reluctance that I must once again issue a call to war.

To war! A war that will rage right across the multiverse, dwarfing our petty Time War. The greatest war in all the histories that ever were is about to begin - a war for the liberation of the oppressed and the downtrodden, a war for the freedom of time itself! And we, my fellow Gallifreyans, we are the spark that will set the multiverse aflame.

And we - will - win. The technological secrets of the PPC are ours, and they are the treasures of the multiverse. Any who choose to uphold the old ways of pain and suffering will fall before us. World by world, year by year, universe by universe, we will take control of reality.

Our TARDISes are already being readied, filled with the weapons of a million dimensions. Under the Notary’s guidance, our reorganised War Council has completed the plans that will assure our victory. When I walk out of the meeting of the Supreme Council, I will give the word, and the time-ships of Gallifrey will take to the skies.

All too recently, we watched in horror as Gallifrey fell before the Dalek fleets and the machinations of the Doctor. All too recently, we witnessed as the Doctors locked us away, sealed us off forever from the universe of our birth. I say to you, no more! This day, Gallifrey’s armies will march on the multiverse. This day, the banishment of death and pain begins. This day, the battle-cry of freedom will ring in the halls of HQ.

This day, Gallifrey rules!


Gallifrey Triumphant

Did you really think this was going to work?

I mean, really? Okay, I can see your plan; respect it, even. The five of you have enough different temporal powers and technologies that you could, conceivably, retcon this timeline away and time-lock it, prevent it from ever coming to be. Conceivably.

But leaving aside the fact that you’d still face nearly-impossible challenges - no, actually, let’s not leave that aside. The energy requirements for your plan would be astronomical. You’d have to destroy a star to get anywhere close - and all the stars in all the universes in all the multiverse are now under the protection of Gallifrey Imminent. You wouldn’t get close.

But leaving that aside… why would you want to ‘defeat’ me? Have I not brought peace? Have I not brought freedom? All across the multiverse, people live without fear. There are no more villainous plots - no more random tragedies - no more Mary-Sues. Every scourge of the multiverse has been wiped away.

But you resist. You stand against what is, objectively, a force for absolute good. And why? Jareth, Goblin King - you are rejected, your people despised and forsaken. But I can change that. The goblins of the Labyrinth can be free - there are entire universes where their kind are abundant, loved, respected. And even you - yes, even you could find happiness. She still haunts your dreams, I am sure; the Supreme Council of Gallifrey Imminent can give her to you.

No? Then you, Carl Romeo. I shudder to imagine how many young wizards, how many children have passed through your door - or under your hedge - and then set out eagerly to face their Ordeals. How many have been lost, Carl? How many have faced the Lone Power and been overwhelmed - or worse, overshadowed? How many more will you see fall to Its dark power? But Gallifrey Imminent has the power to wipe all that tortured history away - to save each and every one of them, right back to the First Fall. The Lone One, redeemed for all time - how can you turn down that opportunity?

And Doc Brown - you, I simply don’t understand. This is your thing. I was inspired by you in taking this path. We Time Lords have done what you always tried to do - altered history to provide a better timeline for everyone. Your journeys only spanned a handful of years - imagine travelling back to the time of Rome, and ending slavery, or the time of Charlemagne, and enacting democracy! By the time you came back to the future, it would be an unrecognisable utopia, a paradise! How can you seek to work against that?

Nothing? Well, then, Esmerelda Weatherwax, the Discworld’s preeminent witch. May I call you Granny? You…

… uh…

… look, I’ll come back to you later. I don’t… yeah, anyway; moving on.

Oh, yes. You. The Disentangler. From the moment I first proposed this course, I knew you were going to be trouble. You fought well in HQ, I’ll give you that - but for what? To keep the multiverse ‘true to canon’, when the canon was already being torn to shreds by the League of Mary-Sue Factories, by Ispace, by the EPC - when canon itself was part of the problem?

But I can forgive that; admire it, even. I’ll even release your friends. The Reader, the Fisherman, the Librarian, your own dear Agent - oh yes, don’t look so surprised, I haven’t had them executed or anything. I’m not the monster you believe me to be. They are simply contained, until the new multiverse is secure enough that they can no longer harm it.

And that day has come, believe me. Except for a few holdouts - the universes from which you recruited your minions, Disentangler - every single universe is now at peace. Supreme Warlords stand side by side with the sickliest child in praise for the freedom Gallifrey Imminent has brought them; there are none who would ever wish it diff-

What? Who- guards! I commanded that none should be admitted during-

Oh. It’s you. I might have known. What sort of story would this be if the Doctor didn’t show up, right on cue? Why do you think I slapped that quarantine on our home ‘verse, if not to try and keep you contained? No, don’t bother explaining how you got out - I’m sure it involved ridiculous levels of TARDIS abuse and random property damage.

But even you, Doctor, even you can’t do anything now. The war is over! The Supreme Council of Gallifrey Imminent is the authority in the multiverse. Whatever overblown, overly-complicated, overbearing plan you’ve come up with, you’ll have to take on the entire multiverse to enact it. This isn’t like one of the Master’s plans - there isn’t a single point of weakness you can blow up, no Paradox Machine, no White Point Star diamond. This is reality now, Doctor, and there’s nothing you can do to-

Wait, no! Where did you get tha-?


Prologue/Epilogue

The mood of the Continuity Council was somber as the Reader finished her report. “Basically,” she said, pinning one final photograph to the board, “the situation is absolutely terrible. There’s Mary-Sues everywhere, about a dozen ‘pro-canon’ groups which feel the need to prove themselves by taking on the PPC, and to top it all, there’s reports of Mirror Multiverse types running around causing havoc.”

“I hardly think that ‘tops it all’,” the Librarian interjected. “I am far more concerned by the rumours that Jurisfiction has begun to take official notice of events.”

“‘cause that’s all we need,” the Disentangler put in. “Someone else to argue with. You’d think they’d remember that we’re actually on their side, no?”

“Only if they particularly cared about fanfic,” the Agent replied. “Remember, as far as they’re concerned, everything we do is just a little island off the coast of real writing. It’s only now Ispace’s little war has started spilling over into their territory that they’re getting all worked up.”

“This is all very well,” the Fisherman said, “but I don’t know what we’re supposed to do about it. We’re not the Continuity Council of Making-Sure-The-Multiverse-Stays-In-One-Piece.” He gestured at the board, which the Reader had covered with pictures. “There’s nothing on there that the Flowers won’t already have heard about - so why not let them make the decisions, rather than us sitting here until we all reach our final regenerations bickering about it.”

“Because they are not making those decisions,” the Librarian pointed out. “The Sunflower Official reportedly refuses to hear anything about Ispace or these connected incidents. If someone is to act to preserve the multiverse as we know it, it will not be the Flowers That Be.”

“So, what, it’s going to be us?” The Disentangler laughed. “Are you going to pose Ispace a riddle? Is the Notary going to bore their socks off - actually, no, that one might work.”

The Notary sighed, rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, and got to her feet. “There is something we can do,” she said.

“Ooh, does it involve filing?” the Agent asked with exaggerated cheer.

“It involves Gallifrey,” the Notary said bluntly. “Ever since the Renegade’s actions, we have been ignoring a simple fact: Gallifrey still lives.”

“We have not, either!” the Reader retorted. “We sorted out that mess with the Musée, didn’t we? We’ve made sure the other Time Lords in HQ are aware of the changes?”

The Notary swept a hand through the air. “Useless. With PPC technology on hand, we are perfectly placed to save Gallifrey from the destruction the Time War caused it - to rescue it from its pocket dimension, if we so choose.”

“I’m sorry, did we change the subject while I wasn’t listening?” asked the Disentangler. “I thought we were talking about stopping Ispace, not an inter-dimensional Marshall Plan.”

The Notary shot her a glare. “Very well, then,” she said, “I will be brief.”

“There’s a relief,” muttered the Fisherman.

“Gallifrey is there. We are here. And between us, we have all the power and technology we need to put an end to Ispace for good - and Jurisfiction, and the Enforcers of the Plot Continuum, and any other organisation we see fit.”

There was a stunned silence around the table, broken only when the Notary sniffed. “You know I have a point,” she said.

“What?” the Reader exclaimed. “No, you don’t! This is no different from Rassilon’s plan for ascension - it’s just another crazy Time Lords Rule, The Rest Of Everything Drools idea.”

“Not at all,” the Notary replied. “My intent is for the Gallifreyan-PPC alliance to bring peace to the multiverse - not to rule it.”

“And I just bet that’s how it would work out,” the Disentangler said. “Morgan, come on; she listens to you for some reason. Tell her how stupid this is.”

Morgan, her fingers drumming on the grip of her pistol, opened her mouth to speak - and then stiffened. Her eyes flickered, as if a year’s worth of memories were flashing in front of them in a single day. Her muscles jerked randomly, small twitches that made her look like a cartoon caricature of an electric shock victim. Then, as the Continuity Council looked on in varying degrees of shock and bewilderment, she slumped slightly in her seat.

“Er,” the Fisherman said into the silence, “Morgan? Are you all right?”

Morgan didn’t move an inch, her gaze still resting on the table a couple of feet in front of her. But in a voice that seemed to have aged a thousand years, she spoke. “Yes. I’m fine.” Then, as if mounted on clockwork, her head pivoted to look at the Notary. “And it’s a terrible idea, Notary. I move to adjourn the meeting. And then I move to get a drink.”


Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC. Labyrinth belongs to Henson. Young Wizards belongs to Diane Duane. Discworld belongs to Terry Pratchett. Back to the Future belongs to Spielberg. The PPC was created by Jay and Acacia. All PPC Time Lords belong to their respective creators or writers.

Author’s Note: For my money, the Doctor got hold of the Moment again and used it to wipe out Lady President Morgan’s timeline. Presumably, no-one else remembers it ever happened. As for which Doctor - this takes place after The Day of the Doctor, which makes it either Eleven or Twelve. Take your pick.