Once in a Blue Moon

by Trouble-Shooter

Ch. 9: Through a Mirror Darkly

Chapter Nine: Through a Mirror Darkly

Elsewhere, Elsewhen...

“...I don't know exactly where or when you are – the interference between here and there makes it bloody difficult to get any exact readings. I'm not even sure of what you are now, really. For all I know you could still be yourself, or myself, or an intelligent cactus, or a talking pony – no, scratch that last one, that's awfully silly and it didn't even work that well on Mr. Ed. 1950's, terrible time for animal actors in Hollywood, terrible time.

“As I was saying, I don't know what, where, or when, but I do know how. They... they escaped the Time Lock, if only ever so briefly, but it still had side effects. The President had this absolutely crackers plan, if you don't remember, about becoming beings of pure thought, well let me tell you this much: from the way they were carrying on while they were on Earth, they would not be beings of pure happy thoughts... and you are what you eat.

“The problem is... they brought the entire planet back for a time as well, and I'm not totally one hundred percent certain beyond all absolute shadow of a doubt that some of them, at least, didn't carry off the ascendant portion of the Final Sanction before Koschei and I managed to stuff them back in the box.

“Oh. Right. You don't know about that, do you? He came back, but he wasn't... whole. He went down fighting, though, and went back into the Time Lock with the rest of them. When I'm trying to feel good about myself for not realizing the source of his madness sooner, I tell myself it's what he wanted.” He had to stop, fingers clutching the console with a white-knuckled grip as he doubled over, groaning loudly. Taking a moment to get his breath back, he continued.

“Oh, right, there's that, too. Even if you do find a way back – which I do not advise, by the way, likely be the Gallagher concert all over again – it won't be me you see. Remember that silly Ood thing with the knocking four times? It was Wilfred. Imagine that, Wilfred Mott, loyal old soldier... and such an endearing idiot that he got himself locked in a Vinvocci radiation container, and I had to absorb the radiation to get him out. So, at least you get to keep wearing your face for a while longer. Me, I hope I'm ginger next go'round.

“Back to the whole Time-Lock-broken, dead-planet-appearing-in-the-sky, hell-paradox thing. It looks like it had some definite side effects. There are now... cracks, in space-time. I'm not sure if it's a result of what Rassilon did or a side effect of the Time Lock being disrupted or if it's from the paradox I nearly caused with Bowie Base One or something from further down the inverse causality chain, but the long story short is, you – and I mean you/you, not me/you or you/me – are a direct result of us running over one of these cracks. As near as I can work out, the interaction between the crack and the TARDIS' engines caused a schisming/spawning effect, creating a whole bubble universe. There certainly would've been enough energy for a Big Bang, or maybe a Baby Bang, or a Moderately-Sized Bang With Just A Little More Boom On the Side.

“Grraargh! Focus! FOCUS! Listen, I don't have a lot of time left. I can send this one transmission, but I doubt you'll be able to send one back so listen closely, because this is very important, and I cannot repeat myself – remember what I said about Gallagher? Do not, under any circumstances, attempt to come back or rejoin that universe to this one in any way, shape, or form. Their energetic resonances won't settle out for another few billion years, and until that happens, any attempt at crossover is going to have very, very bad results.

“At best, you'd pop back into this universe, cause a horrific time-melting paradox when you eventually sought me out – because that's what I'd do – and the new universe would just get reabsorbed back into this one, likely causing more than a few rifts along the way. Worst case scenario, the new universe starts trying to expand into this one, eats everything, then has a case of cosmic bulimia and everybody in both universes dies.” He paused again to get his emotions back under control.

“Listen, about the dying thing. I'll regenerate. It's what we do, after all. At least... at least I got to see her again. Before she knew me at all, but still... There was so much more to do, so much more to see, and now it's all going to happen to someone else.

“I don't have any regrets. I want you to know that, and you shouldn't either. What's done is done, and in the end, I think it turned out all right. Even so, though...

“...I don't want to go.”

[END RECORDING]
[WARNING! EXPLOSION IN MAIN CONTROL ROOM! MULTIPLE EXPLOSIONS DETECTED! FIRE IN MAIN CONTROL ROOM! FIRE IN ALL COMPARTMENTS!]
[DAMAGE LEVEL CRITICAL!]
[BEGIN AUTO-LANDING SEQUENCE, DESTINATION: EARTH.]
[BEGIN AUTO-REPAIR/REGENERATION. LOCKOUT PROTOCOLS ENABLED ONCE PASSENGERS DISEMBARK.]
[EMERGENCY TRANSMIT, PRIORITY ONE – TARDIS IN DANGER]
“...GERONIMO!”

---

Castle Ruins, EverFree Forest: Day 40, Year 27 of Celestia's Reign
Eclipse T-Minus One Hour...

He ran.

He'd been running for so very long, longer than just this sprint through a forest corrupted by wild energy and haunted with ghosts centuries old. He'd been running as long as he could remember, as long as his hearts had quivered in his chest at his first gaze into the Untempered Schism. He sometimes even forgot what it was he was running from, it had been so long.

Now, he wasn't certain if he was still running away, or if he had finally completed the circuit. His memory ran laps as he ran through the trees, desperately hoping and hopelessly terrified of what he might find at his destination.

...Do not stare into the eyes that do not see, lest you find yourself within them...

“These are the parts of an empathically-activated multi-spectral atrton harmonic wave generator. I haven't seen anything like this since... since my own people went away.”

“Your people? Are you.. A-are there any more Time Lords, Doctor?”
“...Not anymore.”
...you are not alone...
“You the doctor or the janitor?”
“I don't know. Sounds like me, the maintenance man of the Universe.”
...you are not alone...
“I thought you'd died. I waited for you and you never came back, and I thought you must have died.”
“I lived. Everyone else died.”
“What do you mean?
“Everyone died, Sarah.”
...You Are Not Alone...
“But your planet burned...”
“That's just it! Don't you see, Donna, can't you understand? If I could go back and save them, then I would, but I can't. I can never go back. I can't. I just can't.”
“Just someone. Please. Not the whole town. Just save someone.”
...You Are Not Alone...
“For a long time, I thought I was just a survivor, but I'm not. I'm the winner, that's who I am. The Time Lord Victorious.”
“And there's no one to stop you.”
“No.”
“This is wrong, Doctor. I don't care who you are. The Time Lord Victorious is WRONG.”
...YOU ARE NOT ALONE!

---

Panting heavily, he stopped as he reached the clearing that surrounded the ruins of the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters. The shadows seemed watchful, almost menacing at times given what he now knew. The sunlight waned, the moon already nearing the setting star and casting eerie, stark shapes on the mountains in the distance as the eclipse approached.

Turning an ear to the sound of approaching wingbeats and hoofsteps, the Doctor turned around just in time to be tackled to the ground in a tangle of wings and hooves as Bastion and one of the faster pegasi slammed into him, the other guards holding him down as he struggled against them.

One last set of hoofsteps came near, moving at a more sedate pace, accompanied by a flicker of multicolored mane and tail. “Keep him restrained, but let him see Us, so that we might converse,” murmured a voice that while soft still held regal steel in its timbre.

The Doctor openly glared up at Celestia as she glared back down her muzzle at him. Flecks of foam dotting the corners of his mouth, he demanded, “Let me go, Celestia! I know what's in there and you are NOT equipped to handle them!”

“Really?” replied the princess calmly as she quirked an eyebrow upward, settling down to her knees before the crazed chestnut stallion. “Why dost thou not inform Us of thine knowledge, so that We may make a similarly informed decision on the subject, Doctor?” Bastion facehoofed off to the side, recognizing the almost serene Old Equestrian speech as a clear sign of his lady's short fuse. Then again, he mused, You could accuse a priest of being a filthy foal-bucker in Old Equestrian and it would sound like you were asking if they'd like more tea.
Closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, the Doctor exhaled slowly. “Fine. Remember how I said there weren't any more Time Lords? I don't know how, I don't know why, but I suspect that whatever's taken over your sister is more than just a bunch of parasites that got together, held an election, and voted in sentience for themselves.” He glanced at the guards, then back to the princess. “...Do you mind?”

Nodding to Bastion, Celestia murmured, “Release him... but do not hesitate to bring him back if he bolts again.” Turning back to the Time Lord, she murmured, “Continue.”

“There was a war. The final war. The only war, through all of space and time. I've mentioned it before, but in the end, it was clear we were on the losing side. Before the war, we were a peaceful sort, content to observe history, make corrections when the time streams went all cross and knotty, and generally keep to ourselves. Then the Daleks came.”

“Pray, Doctor, tell Us what is this 'Dalek' of which you speak?”

“Imagine a being so consumed with hate that it cannot feel any other emotion. So utterly paranoid and xenophobic that it can barely stand to be with its own kind. Then wrap that pitiful, limbless mass in nigh-impenetrable armor, give it a weapon that fires beams of pure death, put a bunch of it and its kind on ships, and send them out into the universe with one mission: Exterminate all life that isn't Dalek.” shaking his head slowly, The Doctor murmured, “I used to hate them. Now, if anything I pity them, because that hollow life is all they know, all they'll allow themselves to know, when they could be so much more.

“But let me tell you, they were in full-on extermination mode when it came to us. We were losing, so our President and his Council devised a plan: The Final Sanction. Part of it involved ending time, to ultimately defeat all foes, now and forever, as if they never existed, because they wouldn't not have never existed.” He frowned slightly. “Blimey, bit of verb salad, there.”

Celestia cocked her head, arching an eyebrow again. “But, wouldst that not have slain your kin as well?”

“Oh, it would have. So they came up with the even more cracked part of a crackpot plan: Ascend into beings of pure thought, because really, thought is about the only thing that can exist outside of the normal time-streams. No idea how they would've managed it. I didn't give them that chance. I sealed them away while Gallifrey was burning, Celestia. I blotted out whole star systems as if they'd never been there, sentenced countless innocent lives to a perpetual, endlessly-repeating Hell.”

“And would you do it again, had you the chance? Had you no other option, would you burn this world as well if it meant saving countless others?”

With no hesitation, the Doctor nodded. “Yes. Yes, I would.”

Celestia got to her hooves and said to the guard captain, “Bastion, the Doctor is to be unrestrained. If what he says is true and his kin have been released from their prison, there is every chance that they will attempt here what they failed to do there.” At the guard's protesting look, she added, “This is not a request, Captain. His tale falls into place with histories you know nothing about, and I will have no argument on this point. He needs to be free to do what he needs to do to stop this menace.”

Hesitating just a moment short of disrespect, Bastion bowed and nodded. “As you command, Your Majesty.” He gestured curtly to the guards, who stepped away from the Time Lord and resumed their posts.

Turning back to the Doctor, Celestia lowered her voice and gave him a steady look. “Can you still do it, Doctor? Do you believe you can still save my sister?”

“I don't know, Celestia. If I'm right – and I seriously hope I am not – then your sister is host to who knows how many insane little Time Lords in her head, telling her what to do. It may be they can only influence a living mind, instead of openly controlling it. That may be the meaning of the warning the Vashta Nerada gave me – if they're still inhabiting corpses, there's nobody home to hold them off, which only makes them infinitely more dangerous.

“I honestly do not know, but...” The Doctor looked over his shoulder at the castle, the moon, and the sun. “I can promise you I will try.”