The Buccaneer Chronicles:

Catharcerous

First Edition

by Keith Dunn

artwork by Andy Simpkins

http://www.StaggeringStories.net/

This is the second story of The Buccaneer Chronicles first series. Other eBooks in this series, and more besides, are available free from the Staggering Stories website.

This eBook is copyright 2010 to Keith Dunn and Andy Simpkins and is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 licence (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/).

"We're singing the tune of the madman's song,
It's not quite right and it's not quite wrong."

The good and decent folk of the planet Catharcerous are in need of a hero. A knight errant, if you will.

Instead they got Lord Macfadyan. The Beast is loose upon the world, and this Time Lord's patience isn't infinite...

"But even they, ruthless as they are, would think twice before making such a radical alteration to the timeline..."

Part One - There's a chair in my head, it's where I used to sit

Chapter One - Crystal Trips

Deep space. In this time period an unimportant galactic backwater.

Amongst the billions of planets, millions are habitable and on the face of it no different from this one. Perhaps the oceans are a bit more green than blue. But there are wide-open grasslands and deep valleys between forest covered mountains that are toped with snow. All signs of a planet that is pre-industrial. But all is not well here. Focus down to one landmass in the northern hemisphere and there is evidence of a battle raging, of lives and blood being spilled.

What looks like a sea of black armoured attackers covers the land before the castle like structure. Fire brands, burning boulders and heated metal flow through the air like so much flack or tracer or even energy weapons of a later age. The attacker's moved in uncanny unison without a word said or curse muttered, their black smooth elongated helmets giving no sign of the features underneath, their entire bodies covered in the same shiny, smooth black amour.

For the defenders however it is a very different matter. Every victory is cheered no matter how small. Orders are shouted down the line. Every engagement is given by the way of praises and curses. One thing is certain though as ladders are propped up against the battlements this is a fight that the human defender will eventually lose.

The sound of battle raged through the stone halls as Captain of the Guard Traverlan entered the command chamber. He saluted commander Calavan,

" My lord, it is the opinion of my men and I that the Primary wall will not stand another assault. We have lost to many men to defend it properly". Calavan looked up with a sigh, he was in his early fifties, a veteran of nearly a hundred campaigns. He had known that this mission was a death sentence when he accepted it.

"Muster sixth and twelfth platoons to form up on secondary wall. Begin a slow pull back from primary to secondary. Have the dead dressed with what amour and weapons we can spare and have them man primary. When the Chell come charging over that wall in the morning have the sergeant at arms ignite the thunderclap charges. I also want all wounded that will survive the journey placed on a chart bound for Ure Denloch and I want this all done by first light".

Traverlan narrowed his eyes,

"Any reinforcements, or military aid of any type?"

Calavan looked straight at the captain's eyes and a moment of military honesty passed between them.

"There will be no reinforcements! We are to hold Druss Denlock for as long as we are able. Ure Denlock will be the new holding line. And with the marriage between the houses of Glastonvay and Avorever there may just be a chance. But only if we hold Druss Denlock to the last man!"

***

"No, No, No, No Look we'll try again " Macfadyan rolled his eyes upwards. "The horse can only move in an L shaped pattern. You do know what an L shape is don't you? Just after K and before M?"

Macfadyan in this body was a man in his thirty's long blond hair pulled back in to a ponytail and a neatly trimmed full beard. He wore the clothes of a 17th century gentleman pirate (Bucket boots gold trimmed / patterned black waist coat and a black over coat) but more in a style that anyone would recognise from the early 1980's.

They were sitting in the dim light of the TARDIS console room, a large chamber with backlit roundels. Everything seemed to be made of dark grey granite. There were stone archways circling the chamber forming a cloistered walkway around it. They all met at the edges of the large hexagonal power unit that hung over the control console. On three of the archways' pillars, a small face had been carved. Each face was different. The first was of a young man slightly nervous, with an air of neat prissy-ness about him. The second face looked altogether more cheerful. Round cheeks and a slightly bulbous nose gave him a perpetually jolly air. The third face was bearded and looked sternly across the console room as if disapproving of everything it could see.

It was the face of Macfadyan himself.

In one area there was no wall. Instead there was a grassy area complete with rocks and a waterfall and stream. Tall ferns seemed to go on till they vanished in the distance. Mist gently floated around the area. From somewhere a beam of sunlight shone through the mist, making the area a sea of tranquillity. There was an old fashioned, striped deck chair on the grass. In it, one of five cats could be seen curled up asleep. Four other cats were dotted around the room, reclining in ways that only cats find comfortable.

The events in Jersey were a couple of weeks old now. Since then they had been flitting through the vortex, making the odd landing. However, when ever or wherever they landed, Macfadyan had become almost instantly restless and eager to be moving on.

"But why it's only a game. Who cares which way it moves? " Was Blanche's whinny reply. She was an eighteen-year-old street urchin from Victorian London. When she wasn't grubbing around trying to steal every thing that wasn't nailed down, she was an attractive blond with short cut hair. She had only recently discovered jeans and was wearing a man's shirt that was two sizes to big.

"Right fine ok will do this some other time then. Some time when you're more amenable? When it isn't too much trouble? No, no. It's ok. There's no need to feel guilty about wasting my precious time." Blanche sighed. This looked like it was going to be one of Macfadyan's longer rants. He shoved the Ming dynasty chess pieces back into their box.

"Its only the basis for nearly all tactical gambits, that's all. Hmmf! " He stood and marched to the console and begin stabbing at the controls with his fingers. Then again, maybe she would get lucky this time.

"But as the moves appear to be too difficult for you I'll see if I can find some thing more simple." Yes, he was definitely becoming distracted.

He mulled over the co-ordinate subroutines muttering to himself. Then with a sudden cry of triumph begin re-setting them "Yes that should do nicely"

* Where are we going? *

The form of Cre'at floated down from near the ceiling to register the new co-ordinates. Cre'at was a Sot'm from the planet Sottus. He basically looked like a large mechanical head two or three times larger than a human head, with arms where his ears should be. He had a wispy beard like growth on his chin and what looked like sunglasses in the space where his eyes should be. The Sot'm race was almost as old as the Time Lord's and Cre'at was Macfadyan's oldest travelling companion.

"Somewhere peaceful. Look". Macfadyan activated the holo-viewer and one archway of the console room suddenly had a starscape beneath it. Sitting serenely in the middle of the picture was a blue-green planet.

"It looks peaceful enough. I think that our picnic may have found the perfect place to be eaten." he paused as he ran his last sentence back over in his mind. Deciding to ignore the look that Blanche was giving him - she had developed a remarkably good "Bemused yet faintly mocking" look - he activated the spatial drive. The time rotor began to oscillate. Then he turned back to Blanche and launched into a ten-minute lecture on the benefits of chess for the seasoned time traveller. And she'd nearly escaped it, too. Bugger!

***

Queen Aralan gazed out at the royal blue of the sky from behind the covers of the wagon. The sounds of bird song intermingled with the musical clink, clink of chain mail armour. The lush vegetation slowly scrolled passed. It was a world a way from carnage and chaos that was happening at Druss Denlock. Hopefully the marriage, her marriage to prince Jalke of the house of Glavtovay would form an alliance that would enable them to mount some form of defence against the forces of Ralban.

Suddenly the horses started to shy away, refusing to go any further. On the edge of hearing a sound started up, gently growing stronger. It sounded like a discordant beeping sound, a wheezing groaning noise slowly fading up into it and becoming a roar, like an ancient machine being forced into life. The troops halted and took up defensive positions as a tall outcrop of emerald crystal rapidly faded in to view. With a loud echoing boom, the sound shut off and the crystal settled into solidity.

Macfadyan opened the door,

"Ah the sweet smell of pre-industrial air. There's nothing quite like it. " He then started making exaggerated panting sounds and running on the spot. Blanche used her hand to shade her eyes from the glare of the sun and started to look around the landscape, only to jump when she caught sight of the troop of solders standing a few scant meters away. She stared to pull at the edge of Macfadyan's coat,

"If you could stop the strong man routine Mac. We have a audience". Macfadyan scowled at Blanch then glared at the soldiers through the crystal structure of the TARDIS. Rapidly locking the door he strolled purposefully towards the Queen's entourage, with Cre'at and Blanche somewhat nervously following. There was barely restrained hostility from the troops. Guard Captain Crillia pulled his sword and pointed at Macfadyan,

" Hold Warlock let it be known that we have mages that are casting wards against you!"

Macfadyan turned indignantly towards Cre'at,

"Did he just call me a warlock?" He turned back to the guard captain, "Did you just call me warlock? If you must know, I am Lord Macfadyanagogobibblebibblelungbarrowmas" He looked at the guards as if expecting applause.

" That's two bibbles and one S", he said in a hopeful tone. The guard's faces didn't move. Sighing and casting his arms around to take in his companions he added, "And this is Blanch Simmons, The large metal head with the sparkling personality is Cre'at of Sot'm."

"Tell your men to put up their weapons, guard Captain. Then request them to recon the area with a view to making camp."

The speaker was a tall Aristocratic looking woman who was wearing armour with a cut that left no doubt to her sex. She was probably one of the most attractive women that Macfadyan had ever seen (somewhere between Cleopatra and Helen of Troy) long legs, pleasant round face and long auburn hair. Crillia turned to her with the amused annoyance of an old friend,

"My lady, please. I have been charged with escorting you to the ceremony and keeping your person safe!"

There was an amused lute to her voice,

"And you are doing a grand job my guard captain, but the Lord over there does seem to be more than just a Warlock."

A note of protectoral obligation entered his voice,

"My lady, we have knowledge of the aliment of these creatures".

"Well why don't we just ask them?"

At that the guards flinched back in to activity. A very wary guard captain followed Queen Aralan down to the time travellers. Macfadyan watched the whole discussion with mixed emotions. The guard captain was suspicious but took his duties very seriously. The Queen however was relaxed, happy and what's more seemed to expect to find him, or at least, someone here. Carouser and carouser, he thought.

"You will forgive us our inhospitality, Lord Macfadyanagogobibblebibblelungbarrowmas, but we are at war, my men need to know your aliment, where your allegiance lies. You are welcome to join us if you swear fealty or camp with us for the night. But it would be under guard".

"My Lady", said Macfadyan, making only the faintest attempt at a bow, "If it's in my power to put your mind at rest then I shall do so. We are but newly arrived in this realm. We are travellers in time and space."

"Travellers from the eternal firmament", breathed Aralan.

"That's as it may be my lady but we still don't have confirmation on there allegiance. "

Macfadyan rounded on Crillia, waving a finger a few scant centimetres from his nose,

"Now listen, you jumped up police man from some third grade, backwater planet. The only way I can show my elegances is in my actions. I can only say that I have no idea what is going on here!"

Crillia slowly began to draw his sword,

"I have heard enough of this, Bandersnatch!"

There was a distinctive whine as Cre'at began to charge up the laser cannon mounted in his forehead. The other guards hurried forward to interpose them self's between the Queen and Macfadyan's group.

The look on Queen Aralan's face was one that realised they were rapidly losing control. Just when it seemed that hostilities were about to begin, Blanche piped up,

"Why don't you take them on a small trip in the ship?"

There was silence, as almost everyone turned and looked at Blanche. A red line of embarrassment slowly crept up her face,

"Well they can't trust us and we can't prove ourselves, so I was thinking why don't we take. . . what you all looking at?"

Macfadyan turned back to Crillia, rubbing his hands together,

"Well Guard captain are you ready for a small trip round the nine galaxies and then back in time to sort out your piffling little problem?"

Crillia sheathed his sword "Agreed but only I will accompany you. Your companions are to remain as a mark of your fealty."

With an exasperated snort Macfadyan waved his arms in the air and then stalked back to the TARDIS, unlocked the door and held it open,

"Well comes on then, if your coming". Crillia marched up defiantly and entered the ship. Aralan stepped closer to Cre'at

"Is it safe? I would prefer it my kinsman is not flung into the depth of time, he is a good servant, an excellent adviser and a very close friend."

Cre'at thought it was a good idea to reassure the Queen; after all she was only from a primitive level three society at best,

* Have no fear they will return. *

"Oh, so it's not some form of null time effect then."

Cre'at was turning away to watch the TARDIS fade from sight when his sub-processor assessed what she had said, causing him to do a classic double take (which for a large metal head is not an easy thing to do)

* What did you say? *

As the ship finally faded from sight she made one final exclamation,

"Oh, its some form of warp matrix dilation distortion then".

Those two comments gave Cre'at plenty to think about as they waited for the TARDIS' return...

Chapter Two - When Clones Attack!

Guard captain Crillia glared around the console room with grudging respect

"Its larger on the inside then the out!"

Macfadyan puffed himself up at the brilliance of his type 76 TARDIS.

"Yes it is rather impressive isn't it? It's all down to trans-dimensional engineering . . ."

"Well no, not really. I've seen such things as this before. Granted they were not on this scale..."

There was the unique sound of a Time Lord's ego deflating.

"Right. Well. Fine. Lets see how you like these apples then!"

Macfadyan started rushing round the console flicking switches, pulling levers, pushing slide controls and pressing buttons. The central column slowly ground into life, rising and falling smoothly.

1000 years later...

The sunlight danced through the thick columns of smoke that surrounded the 20th century style hamlet. Perhaps all that was left of the town after the devastating attack of the night before.

Macfadyan eased himself through the long grass; Crillia, Vanlan and Olvass were grouped further down. They were spaced out at about four meters between them, concealed the same way as he was.

It was only meant to be a short trip, only a few hundred years in to the planets future just to prove his good intentions to Crillia. But no, the guard captain had to get in contact with the royal family and so the planetary government got involved. Through dealing with them he became aware that they were all suffering from some form of mental conditioning. It didn't take him long to break it's effects, it was only an ocular conditioning, to, of all things, a Polka beat.

Crillia crawled through the long grass towards Macfadyan.

"Any sign of anything?"

"No, they are being unusually quiet down there at the moment ".

Down among the ruins there were half a dozen 'golf ball' like shaped ships. As the smoke momentarily cleared it revealed tall but compact, heavily armored figures with domed helmets that gave no allowance for any necks.

Macfadyan swore in an ancient forgotten language with such venom that Crillia reacted to him.

"What is it? What ails you?"

Macfadyan rolled on to his back to look up in to the smoke filled blue sky and let out a groan,

"Sontarans. Why did it have to be Sontarans?"

Crillia spoke, his voice steeped in concern,

"Do you know these creatures?" Macfadyan closed his eyes for a moment and a fleeting look of pain crossed his face. When he replied all his normal bluster was gone. Instead his voice, quiet and cold replied,

"Oh yes. The Sontarans and I go way back. Its sort of a hate-hate relationship!"

And he would say no more for a long time.

Meanwhile...

As the captain had gone on 'detached duty', it was decided to make camp where they were. Queen Aralan was occupied organizing the erecting of tents and digging of trenches despite being pestered at every opportunity by Cre'at, who was trying to pinpoint the level of their technological development. The tents had been erected, latrine trenches dug, fires had been lit. Hunting animals were roasting on open fire pits. In the royal tent the beginning of a feast was being set. In one corner sat Queen Aralan and Blanche, with Cre'at floating between them. Blanche was craftily sipping at the mulled wine, while the Queen and Cre'at were deep in conversation.

Cre'at could finally build up a technological, sociological background to life on Catharcerous.

* You have an understanding of quantum flux mechanics? *

"An understanding yes. A practical application? Not a hope in the nine hells!"

This was interesting. The inconsistencies were still mounting up. This society had either suffered from some massive catastrophic event or was artificial. There was properly a paper in this, maybe even a lecture tour. He started to imagine the crowd at the Bosher stadium, all eagerly absorbing the knowledge he had aquired and all slightly in awe of his work. With a strained, metallic noise, a smile appeared on his face.

Back to the future...

It was a stark, militaristically ready room, functional with straight lines. No evidence was given to the being that lived and worked there. Field General Slar, (first star burst), sat behind the desk authorizing data tablets that consisted of troop movements, procurements and updates. The only thing that gave evidence to his importance was the Sontaran guard behind him, at the back of the room, immobile at parade ground attention.

Things had been running smoothly, the seizure of the planet had been going according to plan. Well, until the being called Macfadyan had turned up. Now things seemed to be going backwards. Fortunately the interloper had been taken into custody.

The door chimed and then slid back into the wall and Macfadyan was pushed roughly into the chamber. His clothes were in disarray, dusty, frayed and ripped. There was a livid purple bruise fading on his check. General Slar put down his data tablet and sat back.

"Greetings Macfadyan! You have caused me a great deal of trouble!"

Macfadyan turned from studying the readouts on the monitor screens on the wall beside him

"Have I?" He gave a painful smile, "Oh good. One does try one's best but it is difficult to try and find new ways to remind you that I'm still here. Admittedly, I haven't had the material available to really get up your vent, I mean, really! If your going to invade a planet, then please try to find one where the primitive inhabitants have an ability to show gratitude to their saviour. Do you know, when I suggested attacking you they said they couldn't trust a man who dressed like a. a.." He tailed off at the look on Slar's face.

Slar dismissed the guard at door with a wave of his hand. He got up and walked around the desk, idly picking up his carbine.

"That will no longer be a problem to you."

Macfadyan looked shocked.

"What!? You're just going to kill me? No, no, no! Oh dear." he sighed, "Look Slar, your not very good at this are you, your first time is it Slar? I'm at your mercy you must gloat. Come on," he made the second word last a full three seconds, "at least rant a little, hmm?"

"We are not here to play your games!" he shouted while slamming a data tablet on the desk, cracking its surface, making the guard, who was slowly moving towards the door, jump.

"You have almost single handily halted this planetary invasion, jeopardizing the entire push in this sector!"

Macfadyan's eyes narrowed, flickering slightly from side to side,

"Does that mean you have the right to burn the surface of the planet off into space? "

Slar leant back on the desk.

"This planet is tactically important. Naturally we can't leave it in the hands of primitives!"

At this point the bodyguard whacked Slar in the back of his head and shoulders with the data tablet. Slar let out a strangled gasp as his hands scrabbled at the back of his head then he pitched forward on to the floor.

"You took your time," snapped Macfadyan. The Sontaran bodyguard ripped off his helmet to reveal a red-faced guard captain Crillia, hair plastered down with sweat. Macfadyan bent down and started dragging the bulk that was the general over to the desk.

"Help me with him ". Crillia looked up from stripping off the Sontaran space Armour, revealing the foam rubber used to pad out the Armour and give him the form of a Sontaran.

"Why?"

Macfadyan stopped tugging on Slar's arm and stood up to look Crillia in the eye

"Because we need to get him over to the desk and do a retinal scan ".

Crillia dropped the space amour.

"I'm not helping with that! Its disgusting!"

Macfadyan smacked himself on the forehead in frustration

"That's retinal, not rectal, eyeball scan . . . Rassilon save me from primitive humanoids."

Crillia still didn't move.

"Why not just pluck it out? ".

"Do I have to explain everything? It would be nice if just once, someone would take something on trust that I know what I'm talking about. Look just get over here and help me while try to explain in terms you might understand."

Crillia stooped to help and both men staggered under the weight of the general while Macfadyan tried to explain

"There are sensors in the 'eyeball' scanner that monitor the pulse rate in the capillaries at the back of the eye. No pulse and a charge of about 1.21 gigawatts is sent through the chair and control interface, reducing me into a pile of freeze dried coffee and then the only job I could do with any effectiveness would be to grit paths in the winter. And we don't want that, do we? "

They sat Slar in the chair and lent him against a complex microscope-like arrangement built into the desk. There was an electronic burble and the built-in desk controls came alive with inner lights. With an exclamation of satisfaction, Macfadyan pushed Slar off the chair on to the floor and sat down. He flexed his fingers like a major pianist then stared to manipulate the keyboard

"You see, all Sontarans are cloned from finite genetic stock. To stop the ground troopers from fighting the battles better than the generals and leading to a mutiny, they alter their genetic sequence, dimming them down." He paused, " A little like the BBC in the early twenty first century." Realising he was getting distracted he continued with his mini lecture." But this leads to reduced combat abilities. To make them combat effective they are loaded full of hardware, software, wet wear, tupperware and every type of 'wear' you can think of. Now if I can just send a reversed phased pulse in to there comm.'s network, like so..."

Macfadyan made a flourished stabbing at one of the illuminated controls " It will immobilise them enough for old Brigadier-general Marchfoot to mount a counter attack. Then we set the auto-destruct and then encrypt the whole lot just to make sure it can't be turned off. Then escape in the life-pod."

There was a rapid soft clicking sound as Macfadyan's fingers rapidly flew over the keys then he stood up and looked around the room

"Erm where's the life-pod hatch?"

With a roar, Slar suddenly exploded back in to life, snatching up the Rheon carbine, he came up firing. Macfadyan pushed Crillia out of the way and pulled out a long, rod-like weapon, with a numerical keypad and trigger grafted onto the base. Pausing to tap some numbers into it then he popped up and fired. A blue green bolt of energy flared out of the end, smashing into Slar's chest flinging him clear across the room into the wall. Not realising his body was already dead, Slar attempted to get up only to slump face first onto the ground. Macfadyan blew into the top of the Dalek gun like an old fashioned gunslinger before putting it back in his pocket.

"Where is that hatch? He was a General not some flash grown grunt. He should have his own life-pod!"

Back then...

Aralan leaned forward into the heat of the fire, her cupped hands being warmed by the flagon of mulled wine.

"The beast Rablan's empire is said to spread over a thousand worlds. He arrived on this world over two centuries ago. Since then, they have cut a bloody path over our lands. His forces can turn up anywhere, in any number. They are called the Chell. What they truly look like is unknown for they are swathed in black amour. They have all-covering helmets with no visor. Yet they see you by the ability of the dark arts. There is now part of their flesh that sees the light of day. The beast Rablan has now turned his attention to the provinces under my protection. This cannot be allowed to happen.

"To aid me in my quest, I have sorted an allegiance of marriage with my family's territorial enemy, the house of Glasotorany. With their army fighting by mine, we may have a chance of turning this black tide. This journey is to take me to my marriage in Torval province."

There...

The city was in celebration, bells were ringing, balloons were being released, cages opened for flocks of white birds. The fireworks detonating in the sky was a poor second for the Sontaran capital ship breaking up in the atmosphere. The celebration was only marred by the bombsites scattered over the city, smoking raw and fresh. The cabinet, royal family and generals were on a tour of the city, sucking up the adoration of the crowds. At the back of the group were Macfadyan and Crillia. Macfadyan leant his head towards Crilla and murmured,

"Come along Guard Captain, its time to move on. "

"What? Yes, yes of course. Though do we have to leave right now? "

"I have found that it pays not to outstay one's welcome. Besides they might remember it was you who punched out the lights of the prime minister when we first arrived!"

Crillia gave a resigned shrug and set off.

"Tell me, my lord Macfadyan, why do you do these things? Involve yourself in this way?"

Macfadyan let out a long sigh

"Well, because I can. Because so many of my people could but don't. Because those that do seem to be out for personal gain or power. Because if I travel long enough and far enough I will be everywhere in the universe at the same time and that's the nearest thing to omnipotence that I know of! And besides, I'm very, very good at it." He puffed out his chest,

"Lord Macfadyan. Saving the universe with style, charm, wit and dazzling good humour thrown in at no extra charge. Hah! I should have that printed on a business card."

and back again...

The horses reared five seconds before the wheezing, groaning, bleeping sound that signified the return of the TARDIS. When the crystal stopped glowing and the sound finished, a crowd gathered around it. A ragged cheer went up as guard Captain Crillia and Macfadyan stepped out of the ship. Queen Aralan rushed up and in a very un-royal act, but the act of a very close and worried friend, hugged him fiercely.

"Where have you been? You've been away for hours, what was it like?"

"My lady, we have been away for months."

The Queen and her entourage proceeded towards the tents. Macfadyan stood in the center of all this activity but separate from it. Gazing around him he caught sight of Blanche and Cre'at. He made a b-line straight to them. Lifting a casual hand he taped the side of Cre'at's shell.

"We need to talk".

The three figures settled down around the fire as the rest of the camp bedded down for the night. Macfadyan leaned forward.

"Cre'at, you've been here for awhile, I'm sure you have a few observations to make!"

* Your coat is different to the one you left in. *

"Sontarans, "Macfadyan muttered darkly, "they never did like my sartorial dress sense. But that's beside the point. I meant about this place." He raised his arm to indicate the area around where they were sitting.

* There is an error. They have sophisticated knowledge but no practical ability. Postulate two theories. Theory one massive planetary wide catastrophe, break down of civilisation and society, rivers of blood, Armageddon, wrath of god, cats and dogs living together *

Macfadyan raised his hand to stop the flow of words.

* Theory two the society is artificial but has gained some measure of stability. *

Queen Aralan approached,

"My lord Macfadyanagogobibblebibblelungbarrowmas may I speak with you?"

Macfadyan stood up,

"Please, just Macfadyan or my lord. My home world has enough sycophantic lap dogs that grovel and spout flowery words then stab you in the back as soon as it's turned. Besides, there seems to be no-one who can pronounce the ultra-sonic continence right!"

Aralan produced a small, shy smile that made her look like a sixteen year old. Then the warrior queen stepped back in

"Crilla still doesn't trust you but accepts you mean no harm to our personage. But I would like something more. The defeat of Rablan!"

Macfadyan looked at her.

"Well now. You would, would you indeed? Am I correct in thinking that you weren't expecting me but you were expecting something on that road?"

Aralan stood back and thought, weighing up the pros and cons,

"If you would be so kind as to follow me, Lord Macfadyan."

They left Cre'at and Blanche, (who was now snoring loudly), and headed to a group of tents.

Aralan pulled back the flaps of one of the tents giving vent to a wave of feted, moist air filled with a charnel house stench. Macfadyan hesitated and then entered. The interior of the tent was covered in drapes and carpets. Cushions were scattered around the floor. Enclosed braziers caste a flickering light. There was a figure reclined in the bedding pallet. As they approached the smell of death grew stronger. Trying to control the bile that was threatening to explode out of him, he examined the figure. Even though the figure was asleep he was twisting and flinching in pain. His flesh folded and twisted, lesions opened, sores wept blood, capillaries ruptured. As Macfadyan watched, the injuries healed themselves. Withered limbs grew strong and then wasted away again. Macfadyan rounded savagely on Aralan,

"You allow this poor, miserable abomination to live? "

Aralan raised her hands in a defensive gesture and spoke urgently but quietly so not to disturb the sleeping figure

"Understand this lord. When the creature that is Rablan came to our world the people that were called the Scurries were the first to aid him".

Macfadyan was still consumed by righteous indignation,

"That still gives you no reason no right to keep him alive in such torment!"

Aralan replied, her own anger beginning to ignite,

"My Lord you still don't understand the nature of the bargain that the Scurries made with Rablan. In return for harboring and aiding the beast they were given immortality and the ability to read the future." She cast her hand to the figure in the sleeping pallet "This is Rablan's gift made flesh. The body is in a constant state of flux, constantly healing and destroying itself. The only future they see with any certainty is that of there own death many centuries hence."

Aralan took a deep calming breath, her own spark of anger already burnt out

"They now use their 'gifts' in the destruction of Rablan and all his creation. We try and ease Magyar's suffering with creams, potions and poultices as much as we can but it is not us that keeps him like this. It is Rablan. He cannot die until it is his time." She turned to the figure and with a muted voice full of tenderness and caring called to him, "Magyar, Magyar we have found a stranger on the route you suggested at the a noted hour. Is he the one you whose coming you foretold? "

The eyes in the peach bruised face opened. One was milk white with cataracts; the other was a blood red orb of burst blood vessels. The breath escaped him in painful short gasps. The blind gaze looked straight at Macfadyan,

"He is both one and many, steeped in blood of the innocent and guilty. He walks the path of the righteous. The path is blurred. He will aid free us from the beast Rablan but it might be at the most cost."

Macfadyan gave an indignant snort,

"'The path is blurred' indeed. Pish and Tush. Luck, educated guesswork and very limited sensor ability. I'm sorry to mock your beliefs but I make my own destiny thank you very much."

Magyar let out a painful sigh,

"As you wish. My lady could I trouble you for a Poultice? "

Aralan turned to Macfadyan,

"I shall be out in a moment". He nodded his understanding and, giving a sharp, almost contemptuous look at Magyar, he stepped out of the tent.

Once he had gone, Aralan turned back to Magyar,

"What is it you want to tell me? "

"The one they call the Buccaneer, treat him as a friend. Treat him with respect. Don't make an enemy of him; don't tarry with him any longer than absolutely necessary. When Rablan is dead as he will be, send Macfadyan on his way with a smile and thank the gods your still alive. He can set my people free. But the price would make our atrocities seem like spilt pigs blood. He is..." Magyar broke off in a fit of coughing and struggled to complete his warning, "He is the beloved of the dark lady!"

The Queen grew pale and reserved as she contemplated the meaning of his words,

"I shall remember your words Magyar. Thank you, my friend. Now rest easy. I shall send Byman in with a poultice. "

The camp broke at first light (except where it was stalled for half an hour as the TARDIS was lashed to a cart). The entourage set off at mid morning at a sedentary pace. The lush landscape soon had a calming effect on those traveling. By late afternoon Cre'at floated up to Macfadyan,

* We are being observed. I have recorded a grand total of twenty pulses microwave energy along our route. It conforms to coms traffic from a dozen worlds. It is encrypted *

"Encrypted? Interesting. Can you set up a jamming wave?"

* Yes but the surface area will be extremely localised and will not block visual observations *

"Ok, I'll see what I can cobble together in the TARDIS."

Macfadyan gave the reins of the cart to Blanche and then scrabbled in to the back. Macfadyan looked critically at the TARDIS on its side, lashed to the cart, "I do hope I left the gyro- circuits engaged. What that's going to do to the cat litter room, I dread to think. Dear oh dear... "

It took a week to travel through countryside that came from a fantasy portfolio. Blanche had taken every opportunity to sunbath and had taken on a dusky almost Mediterranean appearance. Macfadyan, on the other hand, was as pale as ever. However, he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. The change of pace, the scenery, the freshness of the air all seemed to be doing him the world of good. Of late he had seemed on edge, preoccupied. On more than one occasion Blanche had caught him staring off into whatever sky they were under at the time. She had asked him what was bothering him and only once got something other than a dismissive wave of the hand. He had said that: "I can feel something in the air. Something is coming. It's on the tip of my mind. Insanity laughs," he growled, "under pressure, we're breaking. Wise words indeed." Then he had trailed off, "Hmmffed" and stalked back to the TARDIS leaving Blanche to mutter mild obscenities at his back.

Now he seemed relaxed and smiling. It was, Blanche thought, like it had been. Not just with his old self, but how he had been when he had first changed into his current form. She just hoped that it would last. She caught his eye and gave him a cheeky smile. Macfadyan smiled back and hoped that his feeling of foreboding wasn't showing on his face.

Throughout the whole journey they were monitored. Not only remotely by electronic means either. From time to time figures would appear on remote hilltops and sometimes, in the distance, the shadows might move.

By what would have been the early afternoon on the second week they reached the outer-walls of Ure Denlock. It was a town constructed in a steep valley between two mountains with major fortifications at each end of the valley.

There was a stream of people leaving the central castle-like citadel. But there was not a despondent face amongst them. Instead a sense of carnival filled the air. Man at arms lined the walls. Townspeople lined the streets waving, jumping and shouting. The fair had come to town. The entourage rode into a large town square. Awaiting them was twelve knights, weapons drawn. But still the sense of fun remained. Crillia and Aralan dismounted followed moments later by their troops and approached the central figures.

An expectant hush descended on the waiting crowd. The lead knight's voice rang out thought the square.

"Stand and be recognised".

"I am Queen Aralan. Daughter of the house of Avoever. Protector of the Chalice Well. Empress of the Trin Vail."

"And these others? Would you vouch for them of your own free will?"

"These others are mine and I would vouch for them with blood, steal and life if necessary!"

"As you wish!"

With that the city knight leapt into action. The fight was very stylised and showy, with ritual shouts and curses. With every blow the crowd roared its approval. After ten minutes the mock battle as over. Crillia and the guards had defeated the city knights. But the head knight had defeated Aralan.

"Queen's guard yield. You have won the right of entry!"

With that the crowd exploded in celebration. The leader of the knight's removed his helmet revealing short-cropped hair and noble features; a smile of joy softened those features.

"Well at least we don't have to go through that every time we want to see each other." He and the Queen embraced with a fierceness that can only be expressed by two people deeply in love. Then they and their entourage entered in to the fortified citadel. The crowd surged forward and the festival began anew.

A week of carnival, feasting and parties was planned, beginning with a celebration that night. The Queen's entourage, including the TARDIS crew, (despite Macfadyan's protests that he would rather stay in his ship), were given rooms in the citadel.

Macfadyan raised himself from his still steaming bath and dressed in a velvet brown robe and re-entered his rooms. Like everyone else the rooms he had been given were sumptuous. Throw rugs and cushions were scattered around an open fire. An enlarged bed dominated the room. Next to it was a comfortable reading chair table and oil lamp. On the table were a selection of cheeses and a de-cantered bottle of spice port. His clothes were cleaned and pressed and laid out on the bed.

He stood by the window gazing down on the town, a cut crystal glass of port in one hand a chunk of cheese in the other. Beneath him the party was still raging, bonfires had been lit, singers and minstrels were plying their trade at every street corner and everywhere you looked there were people having fun. Above them fireworks detonated in the sky.

Suddenly something caught his attention. Putting down his food and drink he scrambled back into his clothes and stormed out shouting for Cre'at. Five minutes later they were standing on the Keep's ramparts. Macfadyan pointed,

"Look there, its another one!"

In the sky, a tiny pinprick of light was moving slowly against the inky blackness of the night through the stars. Cre'at hummed slightly as his scanners went to extreme range

* It is not a ship. Postulation that it is an artificial satellite of unknown class. This is another anomaly. *

"I thought as much. It seems our opponent, this Beast; "Rablan" is going to up the antsy. Look, see? The satellite has stopped moving now. You better keep your eyes out, Cre'at!"

* My visual circuits are an integral part of my operating procedure. I cannot get them out! *

Macfadyan just rolled his eyes heavenward and started back down the steps.

The time travelers congregated in the lobby hall. Macfadyan looked around at the other visiting dignitaries. Spotting Blanche and Cre'at he started towards them. Macfadyan was still wearing his old clothes but they had been cleaned and pressed. Blanche was wearing a flowing dress of red crushed velvet with a plunging neckline that, in Macfadyan's opinion, showed far too much of her cleavage. Even Cre'at looked like he had been polished. They drifted down the stairs in groups to the base of the steps were they were officially announced. The grand hall was alive with people. Tables were heavy with food and drink. A strange ethnic sounding music came from the minstrel's group in the corner sounding gentle over the murmur of conversation. Almost immediately several young beaus made straight for Blanche, much to her joy. When the last guests were announced the music suddenly upped the tempo and beat. Almost as an unspoken agreement formation dancing broke out in the hall, and the party started properly. But it was a party that was strained. The conversation was muted, the laughter sounded too harsh, too false. Groups gathered in corners, political and diplomatic deals were being made.

Macfadyan was shown around by the royal couple and indulged in polite small talk, but for the most part he seemed distracted. His eyes kept straying towards the minstrel's platform. After a while, he firmly and politely excused him self. Less than a minute later the minstrels stopped playing the party staggered to a shocked halt as everyone looked towards the minstrel's platform. On it, Macfadyan and the lead minstrel where involved in an animated discussion that involved a lot of arm waving and as if Macfadyan was trying to land a plane. The minstrel was vigorously shaking his head as Macfadyan shushed him into silence. Picking up one of the wind instruments he gave it an experimental blow, nodded his head as he got the feel of it and then launched into a hauntingly joyous melody. After a few minutes, he stopped and quietly said to the band,

"Ok gentleman, three-four time, just follow my lead. One two three, one two three."

The minstrels joined in - they didn't really have a choice. Once they had got the melody, Macfadyan stopped and looked around. Giving the wind instrument back he went over and requested, without words, another minstrel's instrument, akin to an accordion, playing this for a few moments at a counterpoint melody, then giving it back. This happened a few more times then Macfadyan stopped, plunged his hands into each pocket and pulled out his violin and bow and started playing. Having fun with the melody, changing the composition, the beat, the rhythm. Sometimes what he played spoke of the joy of life, sometimes of its bone deep sadness. Some people stopped and listened, some continued dancing. But throughout this sometimes frenetic activity was Macfadyan and his violin, existing in one moment that was stretched into eternity. The look on his face was one of rapture, as if he was feeling the music, seeing it as it looped and waved around the room.

Cre'at was over by the buffet tables trying to tempt the waiters to a vegetable product. He was also keeping a discreet scan on his surroundings and noticed that Blanche's collection of suitors had grown. He turned part of his attention back to the dissertation he was giving about the life cycle of the Melrosian Tapeworm, much to the disgust of those people trying to get at the food.

Then one of his sensors reacted to changes in the environment around him. He broke off his sentence; much to the relief of those standing next to him, started looking around for Macfadyan, then sped towards him.

He eventually managed to push his way past the people who were gathered around Macfadyan watching the man loose himself in his music. He managed to attract Macfadyan's attention. Macfadyan saw him, groaned and stepped down from the platform, pocketing his violin and bow. The crowd applauded him. He quickly acknowledged their appreciation and pushed his way through the crowd until he got close enough to talk to the Sot'm.

"What's wrong, Cre'at?"

Cre'at spoke in subdued tones.

* I am reading energised neutrinos as typified by an annular confinement beam! *

"You mean a transmat beam?"

* That is what I just said! *

"Right! Begin to get these people out of here as fast as you can!"

Suddenly all over the ballroom floating lights appeared, hovering in the air like fire flies. Where they appeared around people, it gave them an edge of fairy fire. The crowd of partygoers began to draw back in mounting horror and fascination, as those afflicted begin to gag and gasp for air.

The burning silhouette of a Chell etched in fire appeared of the top of these afflicted, before bulging eyes and slack jawed, they exploded in a mixture of blood, gore, brain tissue and chitin.

Elsewhere the lights resolved themselves into solid Chell whose first action was to fire a volley of plasma like energy before reversing their spear-like weapons and setting into the guests with the bladed edge.

And that was when the spell was broken and chaos descended on the ballroom. As half the guests scrambled to get out of the way and the rest pulled their weapons and charged towards the Chell. The sound of Macfadyan's voice rang over the chaos.

"Crilla, get these people out of here NOW!"

This action brought several plasma beams in his direction, coursing him to dive headlong behind a row of tables. Blanche snatched up one of the discarded Chell weapons and managed to fire a full salvo before the weapon emptied. Five Chell rounded on her, firing. Blanche gave a quick yelp and dived behind a marbled pillar that exploded from the combined firepower. The Chell group was moving in for the kill when Cre'at came spinning out of the chandelier firing as he came, blowing them into greasy smoke. At that point, Macfadyan overturned a table and popped up from behind it firing his Dalek gun. He and the Chell began trading shots but for every Chell Macfadyan took down another stepped up to take his place. After a few moments, silence descended on the ballroom. Macfadyan poked his head tentatively up from behind his almost shattered barricade and looked around. He was taking in the wounded, dead, dieing and the shattered when a musical tinkling heralded another beam in. A small sphere materialised in front of the barricade. It immediately disappeared in an expanding distortion wave that picked up Macfadyan and slammed back in to the far wall of the ballroom. Most of the ceiling came down on top of Cre'at.

And after that, they didn't really care what happened next.

Part Two - Don't go out tonight for it's bound to take your life, there's a bad moon on the Rise

Chapter Three - The Mourning After...

Macfadyan slowly came round, to the blurry sight of Cre'at staring down at him.

* Remain motionless you have breakages in two ribs. *

Macfadyan shook his head to clear it, realised that the dancing Indian elephants inside it would just enjoy themselves even more and thought better of it.

"I'm sorry Adh, but I think the planet fell on me!"

* Not Adh, Cre'at! *

Macfadyan sat up to get a closer look at his surroundings.

The sounds of the injured echoed off the ballroom walls. People wondered around tending to them in a strange mix of last rights and triage.

At a discrete distance was a group of military personnel gathered around one of the few remaining tables. Spread out in front of them was a map of the land. From their conversation it became clear they were trying to find a convenient sight to congregate their armies. Prince Jalke was a picture of towering rage as he slashed and stabbed at possible sights on the map. After watching for a few minutes whilst waiting for the elephants to calm themselves down, Macfadyan entered a rapidly heating debate. He rudely pushed past some generals and stated firmly,

"Lead your men on this crusade your Majesty and they will die if you're lucky!"

The crowd round the table all turned in Macfadyan's direction. Jalke pulled his sword and spoke with barely suppressed rage,

"You may be here under a flag of truce with the house Avorever but I will not stand for flippancy or cowardice."

Macfadyan looked at the sword then at the face wielding it with contempt.

"Of all the ungrateful, ignorant, primitive..." he tailed off as he noticed several men's hands move to their swords. He held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Okay! Where's Aralan, can I speak to her please!"

Prince Jalke replied his voice rich with frustration,

"She has been taken from us!"

"Really? Taken not killed?" Macfadyan looked at Crillia for confirmation, who stood there with a black eye and cleaned cut on his cheek, gently nodding his head.

"Now that is interesting", he breathed.

Suddenly Macfadyan went into lecture mode, raising his voice slightly to address all the generals gathered around the table,

"And why do you think that is mmm?" he poked a general in the chest, "Hmm?"

General Gordanas replied, his mutton chop moustache bristling in indignation,

"They fear us. Our coming alliance could destroy them utterly!"

There was mutterings of agreement from round the table. Crillia and a few others however kept their own council. Macfadyan rolled his eyes and muttered perfectly clearly,

"Over a million worlds and still you have to have a full frontal lobotomy to be in the military".

Ignoring the sword Macfadyan placed his hands on Jalke's shoulders. This seemed to have a calming effect and he lowered his sword.

"If that was true they could have just killed her and there was more than enough opportunity to have done that over a thousand times on our journey here ". He looked the Prince straight in the eyes. "This attack was done just to provoke this type of reaction", his hand indicated the map.

"What would you suggest "? asked Crillia.

Macfadyan looked in to the middle distance for a few seconds,

"I think a little misdirection is called for. Gather your forces. In fact, make a great show of it. Meanwhile I will take a small commando force in the TARDIS to Rablan's H.Q., free the Princess, defeat 'the beast' and be back before you can say 'Bob's your aspidistra'".

It was at this point that Crillia leaned forward,

"Your travelling crystal has been taken also".

"WHAT!! Cre'at is this true!"

* Yes the TARDIS is missing. *

Macfadyan dived for the nearest window overlooking the courtyard. In it, people were still clearing up from the chaos and terror of the night before. The cart that the TARDIS had been strapped to was just a pile of chard wood.

In a shocked and shaken voice Macfadyan whispered,

"Cre'at why didn't you say something before?"

* You did not ask. *

Macfadyan stared delving deep in to his coat pocket,

"We'll soon see about this. No one is poking about my ship!" He pulled out a fat rod-like object from his pocket. There didn't seem to be an area that wasn't covered with touch-sensitive slides or buttons. He tapped a few controls and there were musical tones in acknowledgement. Then there was a rude sounding noise as access was denied. He looked at the remote control in disbelief, "What? Well that shouldn't have happened. Analyse."

There were a few more tonal burblings from the Stattenheim remote rod and Gallifreyan hieroglyphics floated just above the rod. Macfadyan glared at the readings,

"No, no, no! They can't do that. It is not allowed! I will not allow it!"

* There is a problem? * Cre'at floated closer.

"The ship is caught between to alternating time fields and its confusing the hell out of the poor old girl."

Macfadyan spent a few frustrating minutes tapping the controls producing a cacophony of musical notes, until he finally whacked it against a wall. With a deep sigh he began entering new information and instructions.

"She seems to be located about two thousand miles away. Hmm, that's quite far". He sighed, "We will have to do this the old fashion way. I've closed down the dimensional bridge, so no one can get inside her".

He stared morosely at the rod for a few moments then sighed deeply and shoved it deep back in to his pocket. He turned back to the generals surrounding the table,

"Right then, gentlemen, what will need is a small group of your best men and some transport. I have no small knowledge and experience in such matters and I lay them at your disposable."

It took long two hours for all the details to be argued out on who would go and who would stay behind to assemble the main force if things didn't go to plan. It did end up with a few bruised egos, but the small force finally consisted of Macfadyan, Cre'at, Blanche, Crillia, Prince Jalke, Alamour, captain of the guard for the house of Glastonvay and nine champions of the sword. They were due to set off at first light on the following day. Organised chaos descended on the town as provisions were made for a journey that would take an unspecified length of time. Plus people were still trying to clean up after the preceding night's celebration and brutal attack. Through all this Macfadyan stalked, with a purpose towards the rooms where Magyar was quartered. Like the rest of the citadel this area also showed signs of being ransacked. Tapestries were slashed.

Carpets had been singed where firebrands had been overturned. Magyar himself had healing burn and stab wounds where the invading Chell had tempted to end his life. Macfadyan righted one of the overturned chairs and sat down. Ignoring the feted cloying smell of decay he leaned forward and fixed the sightless eyes with a penetrating gaze,

"Why?".

Magyar flinched and returned the gaze with eyes that were alternately clear, milky cataract white or capillary bursting blood red.

"Because the lady Aralan asked me not to tell anyone"!

"WHAT! I mean, why would she want to keep the news of that kind of slaughter quite?"

"Because if we had prepared for their coming the devastation would have been total. We both know that these are the first steps in the redemption of our planet".

"And now because of your conspiracies they have taken my ship. Now I am embroiled in this tawdry little drama whether I like it or not!".

"I can aid you in the recovery of your ship".

Macfadyan looked closely at Magyar for a few moments then in a quiet voice said,

"Yes I'm sure you can. How old are you Magyar?"

The bruised flesh stirred on the sleeping pallet,

"I was old when Rablan first entered this world. I'm now approaching my tri-century."

Macfadyan leaned back in to his chair, eyebrows rising in surprise,

"As old as that? My, my. And how long have you have you served Aralan and the house Averoura?"

"I have served the house Averoura for just under 2 centuries and Aralan for these past four years, why?"

Macfadyan leaned forward, at that moment existing only to explain his thoughts,

"Its just that I have seen symptoms like yours on countless worlds and they were flushed down the toilet as failed cloning or genetic experiments. Which does open up a few questions. Those that were allowed to live didn't last longer then about five years. Now! The thing I need to know is are you merely a dupe for Rablan or are you a full blown traitor?"

Magyar struggled to get of the sleeping pallet with a scream that ended in a wet cough.

"I am no traitor!"

"Well I'm glad to hear it. That means you're just a dupe and I can give you a chance of revenge on those that did this to you ."

Macfadyan looked at Magyar earnestly, fixing him with his eyes,

"Tell me all you know!"

It was only after Macfadyan had left him that the words of an old folk song came to Magyar. It was a song so old that it was sung to small children to frighten them into good behaviour.

"The Judder Man will kill,
And the Judder Man will maim,
And when everyone's dead,
He'll say no to the blame,
So little one please take heed,
And run very fast,
For only through shadows,
Is there justice at last."

And a cold sweat broke out on his skin. The Judder Man wasn't coming.

He was here.

Chapter Four - All Fall Down

The courtyard was in chaos. The last minute supplies were being added to carts. Loved ones were saying goodbye. Some people seemed to just be running around. In amongst all this activity was an area of calm.

Macfadyan and Blanche were on horseback with Cre'at floating close by. Blanche was back in her shirt and jeans with a sword strapped to her waist, (MacFadyan had long ago regretted the subroutines he had inserted in to this clone). She leaned forward on her horse, almost falling off.

"Right, Macfadyan, what's going on den? Spill da beans!"

Macfadyan started looking around him wildly "What do you mean, " the beans? Hmm? "

Cre'at rolled his eyes and with a mental shrug he floated closer to Macfadyan.

* We know nothing of the Beans! *

"No, no of course you don't. Nobody can. And that's the problem." he paused for a moment as if to gather stray thoughts that were elluding him.

" Now were was I? Erm. Ah yes! We have a twelve day ride to the swamps of Maruti where the location of Rablan's head-quaters will be revealed to us."

"And you believe that do you ?" Blanche asked, incredulous.

" Child, it doesn't matter if it's a lie. Magyar believes he's telling the truth. If you know it's a trap its easer to get out of, you see !"

Blanche rolled her eyes and suppressed a groan. It was going to be one of those days. She had regretted mentioning "beans" the moment the comment had left her mouth. Now she would have to live with the consequence that Macfadyan was going to be ultra pompous for the next day or so, using it to cover his paranoia. One day she would have to chain him to a wall and torture him to find out just what it was about him and beans. The thought of torturing the arrogant git put a vague smile on her face. It was quickly followed by annoyance at the fact that Macfadyan attitude could make her smile at doing such a thing.

Crillia's voice rang out through the din and chaos that covered the courtyard,

"Gentlemen, we leave in five minutes. Say farewell to your loved ones and girde your loins!"

Prince Jalke stalked determinedly into the courtyard followed at a respectful distance by a group of generals and advisers. He approached Macfadyan's group who dismounted to meet him.

" My father has just died from his wounds".

Blanche watched as Macfadyan stared unimpressed for a few moments, then spoke up,

"We only meet briefly last night."

Looking meaningfully at Macfadyan she said.

"We we are all sorry for your loss".

Jalke took a sharp intake of breath as he came to a sudden decision,

"I cannot become king while things like this still happen in my realm!"

With that decision the words started to come easer,

"I have spoken to Aralan's father, King Futrara. He doesn't like what you plan any more than my generals and advisers do. But he has agreed to my wishes and I follow your council."

This seemed to spark Macfadyan' s interest,

" Hmm and why is that?"

"Because many times before mass armies have been lead to their slaughter. It may be time for a change".

Macfadyan nodded in approval,

"As long as you remember that and are willing to try something new you will be a wise ruler".

"However both my generals and King Futrara insist that their armies start to gather at the edge of swamps of Maruti in one weeks time. I have been given an communion icon to call them if we need them".

He lifted his hand to reveal a small communication device. Macfadyan leaned forward to examine the device,

" Hmm, looks like a two way comm device. If, however, I can make a small point? All communication will be monitored. Keep that in mind..."

They both walked back to the generals, Macfadyan talking and waving his hands in a flurry of fingers,

"May I suggest a form of word incription, I've got a few ideas, there based on an old Dalek incription program for when Dalek comm's traffic is being monitored".

There were a few moments of talking and frantic scribbling then Macfadyan rejoined Blanche and Cre'at.

Jalke mounted his horse and his voice rang out around the square,

"Soldiers, men, gentlemen. We ride to destroy Rablan, we ride to destiny and if any one stands in our way we will send them to the blasphemous halls of Santaner to entertain the Judder Man. For at our journeys end lies either death or freedom. We ride for Princess Aralan and freedom!"

Swords were raised in salute and the courtyard echoed and re-echoed with the words,

" Aralan and freedom!"

Half a world away

The citadel towered above the surrounding countryside that undulated into green fields. It was a temple on a massive scale. Monks tiled the fields around the citadel. Dormitories had been built to house the faithful .

The Abbot approached the alter. He wore the rough, homespun, simple garments of his faith. His short cropped hair was snow white, his red checks and face spoke of a life outside. He knelt down with difficulty in front of the alter, hands razed in supplication. The jewels in the golden icon that resembled a double helix flared green in response. A musical voice rang out the chamber.

"Report!"

"A small force has left Druss Denlock bound for the swamps of Maruti. They are under Chell observation. They also however report a nonconformity."

"Relay all relevant data to us".

The Abbot opened one of the golden gilded boxes on the alter before him to revile touch sensitive controls. He tapped a couple of them,

"It is done !"

"Correlating data. Three subjects do not correlate to Catharsran norm. One mechanized life form, and one humanoid life form, one dual cardio-vascular life form. This is expected we have that last lifeform's time/space vessel in our custody. Order Chell to continue monitoring and continue designated plan."

The Abbot bowed his head,

"I understand "

"In one lunar cycle the Thorus Betan delegation will arrive. You will conduct the negotiation. Our presence must not be revealed!"

"As is your will so mote it be"

The light snapped out indicating the instructions were over. The Abbot rose to carry out his orders.

***

They were just entering the second week of travel and a whole pattern had become routine. The watch was split between Macfadyan, (who hardly needed any sleep) and Cre'at, (who didn't needed any). It enabled the other members of the group to get a full nights sleep.

At the moment, Cre'at was on patrol while Macfadyan was running a hand scanner around the local plant life. Cre'at floated up behind him,

* What are you doing? *

Macfadyan leaped in to the air, spun around in mid leap and landed spluttering with a hand over one heart,

"Will you stop doing that!? Look can't you emit some noise, some form of hum perhaps?"

* I am in stealth mode. What have you discovered? *

"What? Oh nothing really, just confirming a theory. The prince and his men have a completely different genome from any plant or animal life, indicating that they evolved in a completely different bio-sphere, which proves with out doubt that they were transplanted here. Interesting...."

There came a sudden snapping explosion of breaking wood, indicating that something too powerful to be bothered with the idea of stealth or to frightened was heading their way. In silent agreement with Macfadyan, Cre'at glided forward to investigate, charging his head cannon while he did, as Macfadyan scurried back to wake the rest of the camp. Two women, one only just an adult, and a man burst in to the clearing. They were rapidly followed by twelve Chell, marching forward in unison from out of the under growth. As one they raised their spear like weapons and fired deep purple beams into the camp site. On an unspoken command they reversed their weapons to reveal blade like swords. They rushed forwards to meet the prince and his men head on. Macfadyan hovered around the outskirts of the battle picking off the odd Chell when the opportunity arose with his Dalek gun, using it to block any direct attack by Chell blades that got to close. Every few moments Cre'at would swoop down out of the darkness, head cannon blasting Chell into their component atoms.

After about five minutes all the Chell were reduced to parts. A collective breath was taken, wounds were bandaged and last rights were given for three men.

Half a world a way

Princess Aralan once again looked around her quarters weighing up her pro and cons.

When she first arrived she had been terrified into virtual immobility. All the childhood fears and stories at what the beast Rablan could do to prisoners stalked her mind. But once she had been thrown into a standard cell and left for more than three hours her mind started working again. It took another half an hour of examining her cell closely before finding the key to her freedom. Freedom that only lasted thirteen corridors before she was caught again, but freedom none the less. She had then been thrown into another cell, larger, with a living room, separate bedroom and bathing room. But the Chell on the door, in strange green/ gold livery, made it a cell all the same. Her meals were brought to her as well as some things she requested, books and other entertainments . Otherwise she had been left alone for almost a week. This however had not stopped her multiple escape attempts. Last time she had got as far as the window to the outside world. Revealing wide, undulating fields with a forest in the distance and just visible, a steeple behind it. She got halfway through it before it squeezed shut. Closing like an organic valve, holding her there, before armoured Chell swarmed over her. With out complaint, comment or reprimand she was escorted back to her rooms.

She was currently fashioning a set of supports out of her tray. The idea was to hold the window open when they came for her. There was six of them, they pulled her to her feet and dragged her kicking and screaming down porcelain white corridors. Into a large audience chamber, complete with resplendent throne and several stylised modular chairs. The tables on each side had golden / silver goblets and bowels on them the bowls were full of berries, apples, grapes and snozberries. The Chell stopped at the edge of the chamber and pushed her in then retreated to a respectable distance. She stumbled on to the room looking around widely, slightly at odds(dirty, travel sore, ruffled ) with the majestic surroundings.

She didn't see the figure at first, which was strange as the place was almost incandescent with light. He stepped out from behind the massive gilded throne. He was human but he was... wrong. He was dressed in a resplendent cavalry uniform, his hair was slicked back into a pony tail. But his face was too long and wide, with large almond shaped eyes, black like oil spots, that were too far up on his forehead. The smile that split the face was far too vulpine. When he spoke it was with a deep vibrating timber, one that didn't fit his slight frame,

"Greetings, I am Rablan but you may call me Beast!"

He strolled towards and around her, giving Aralan a critical look over.

"I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting, but I'm sure you know how its, affairs of state tend to keep you occupied. Please do sit down and have something to eat and drink".

He made a casual motion with one slender, long-fingered hand and a small three legged table and one of the strange modular chairs started to vibrate and shiver as if they were being seen through a heat haze. Still shimmering they slid across the polished floor towards her. From the opposite side of her, a platter of fruit, goblet and pitcher of wine floated across the room and came to rest on the table .

"Tractor beam " part of her mind pulsed as she unconsciously looked for the beam emitters, knowing almost instantly what to look for. While other parts of her mind convulsed in shock at such a casual use of power, that if not against the laws of the land, then certainly was against the scriptures of the gods.

Grasping another chair, with the same heat haze pulse, he sat across from where she was standing.

"Now princess we have things to discuss, please do sit DOWN!"

Not a hard but an unexpected force hit her in the back of her knees and the chest, coursing her to collapse in the chair.

"There, that's better! I have an offer for you, one that could end this ridiculous war that has washed this world in blood for almost three hundred years".

"Why?"

The oil slick eyes opened wider in supprise,

"Why what?"

"Why are you continuing to do this? It's been more than two centuries and you haven't conquered the planet yet, you're hardly likely to do it in the near future are you? So why not just cut your losses and leave. Go back to one of your other planets in your vast empire and leave us alone! We promise we wont come after you!"

The large almond shaped eyes blinked slowly and leisurely.

"Good, good", he breathed.

Rablan sat staring at her for a few moments, then shook himself visibly as if trying to shake off an idea or vision that only he had seen, then continued as if she had not spoken.

"We shall create an agreement that allows me access to your lands as a staging post. From there I can take and hold the entire Siltola planes. Within a few short months maybe weeks, this war shall be at an end. As a reward I shall give you this world as plaything."

She struggled to rise out of her chair,

"What you ask for is against reason and the gods!"

The black eyes glowed in amusement.

"I'm so sorry you feel that way", he said in a voice and expression that meant anything but.

As she tried to get up a much harder force slammed into her, taking the breath from her body and shoving her back down into the chair. Metal bands suddenly slicked out over her arms, calves and neck, restraining her to the chair. A metallic mesh shot out to cover her hand and two contacts slapped out to cover her temples .

She struggled desperately for a few moments as Rablan walked round her to admire his handy work.

She jumped and gasped as a bolt of sheer sexual excitement rent through her, leaving her breathless. Rabalan leaned over her shoulder and whispered in her ear.

"What you are sitting in is a nerve inductor. It gives me control of your nervous system. I can induce any sensation in you I like, positive or negative and leave no tissue damage. That was a mild positive shock. Now shall we discuses this treaty further?"

Later

Aralan sat slumped in the chair unconscious, her hair plastered to her forehead with perspiration. Her skin pale with purple trauma bruises around her closed eyes. There were also bruises around her throat and wrists, evidence of where she had convulsed against the metal stapes holding her in place.

Rablan stood over her, unconsciously wiping his hands on a silk handkerchief, then dropping it on the floor to be picked up by an attendant Chell. He picked up a crystal goblet of water and headed out of the chamber,

"Return her to her rooms".

After stopping at his rooms to change he reported to the comm.'s hub. He stepped up onto the plinth. The room darkened to indicate that the communication had been accepted. A musical voice echoed through the chamber,

"Report".

"The first subject has been tested and reached a rating of K12!" he told the air proudly.

"That is acceptable. Twelve units are approaching the Marti end of the of the trans-specula corridor".

"I understand, they will be tested and placed in cry-stasis until a larger group arrives ."

"Negative! These units will be processed immediately!"

Shock crept into his voice,

"But you can't plan to activate on such a small cull!"

"There is a Time Lord amongst the units. His capture and conversion has the upmost priority."

"But the last Rablan gave his life for in excess of one hundred and sixty units! You can't expect me to die for merely twelve!!" The musical voice became many, all in harmony with it.

"You will obey. You will obey us in all things. You will obey without question!, OBEY,OBEY, OBEY!!"

Part of his mind, the part that was buried from the mental conditioning, the genetic tailoring, gean splicing, electronic grafting and alien organ implantation, the small part of him, the speck that was still human, gibbered and screamed at the unfairness of it all. He had only been Rablan for eighteen months. If they would only give him a chance, he had many years left in him. A big fat glycerol tear escaped his eye as he bowed forward arms across his chest.

"As is your will so mote it be."

The lights snapped back on, The meeting was over.

***

It was once again evening, the campfire had been set up and the smell of roasting meat wafted across the camp. They were camped at the edge of the swamps of Maruti, about half a days ride from their destination proper. The atmosphere in the camp was a relaxed one. Macfadyan had managed to teach guard captain Almaur chess and they were passing the evening hunched over the chess board trying to ignore the helpful advice, suggestions and comments from Crillia, Cre'at and Blanche, who had learned far more than she had let known. Macfadyan looked around, playing for time as he thought out his next move. For a beginner Almur had an instinctive grasp of tactics.

"You know this would be a wonderful place for a picnic !"

Cre'at thought for a few moments,

* But we do not have any ham! *

Macfadyan winced inwardly, not wanting to get in to another ham fiasco. Not after last time.

Blanche watched Macfadyan as he made his move with an unnecessary flourish and then sat back to study the two adults they had rescued a few scant days ago. They were somewhere in their late forty's, the lined faces and slight scattering of silver in their hair spoke of a life spent mostly outside. Macfadyan had spent a lot of time with all three of them. He was with Notas when he has tracked down and killed the wild beast that was now roasting on the fire that was being attended to by his wife Scylla. He had swapped recipies, made hints, and had taken advice from Scylla. Once their seventeen year old daughter, Erinyes found out just who Jalke was and decided she would make the perfect wife and consort, Macfadyan started giving her advice about how best to romance him and, much to her annoyance, had taken great delight in her all but chasing Jalke for the past three days. Tonight for instance, Jalke had taken refuge in his tent with orders not to be disturbed, on the pretence of planning their next move.

There was a rustle of canvas and a waft of scented air. Jalke suppressed a sigh of frustration and turned to face her. With a slight smile on his face to defuse the annoyance of his words he said,

"Erinyes, I gave instructions I was not to be disturbed tonight ".

He took in her image as she carried the tray of steaming food and a tankard of cooling ale. Her blouse was tight and her unbraided hair cascaded down on to her neck and shoulders. It was time to sit her down and have a very serious chat about duty, but more importantly about love and life bounds.

Outside Macfadyan got up and stretched. Then he excused himself from the chess board. He picked up a plate of food and some drinks and headed towards Magyar's tent. The tactical ability of these people was astounding. Most of them had picked up the rules after one demonstration and were coming out with gambits that would have a master snapping his board, vowing never to play again. Of course, it was all down to his tutoring skills, they couldn't take any real credit. But even so...

Macfadyan rapped on one of the tent poles,

"Magyar, are you decent?"

From inside the tent came a wet voice,

"Macfadyan, it's started!"

Placing the food on the ground he turned with purpose towards Jalke's tent, his hand methodically going through his pockets looking for his Dalek gun which he eventual produced with a flourish. Something thwacked on the back of his head and he dropped like a sack of potatoes.

Jalke had just finished talking. He had been gentle but firm and had tried his best not to hurt her feelings, as she sat on the bed with her head in her hands,

"But what if she is dead, what if Rablan has had her eliminated? "

"That hasn't happened. If it did I would know and besides, I would still have to go to bring her back to be with the ones that love her, even if it means my life".

"But you don't understand. I was made for you !"

She looked up instead of brown her eyes were white on white, with her pupils standing out stark in contrast. As he watched in horrified fascination her hair faded from brown to blond, through white to silver, eventually resembling clear filaments. She seemed to shrink slightly as the blood drained from her complection, leaving the flesh to took on a blue/white appearance. And from the puckered freckles around her wrists a one foot spike of bone shot out with the minimum of mucus.

"You see the Rablan told me that if I couldn't turn you aside from your quest, I was I was to kill you, even if it pains me to!"

They stood staring at each other for a few moments waiting for someone to loose there nerve and scramble to do something first.

Blanche looked up from the chessboard to see Macfadyan sprawled on the ground. Scylla had already dropped the log and was marching towards Notas, who had a glow beginning in her eyes that had little to do with the fire light.

"What the buggering bollocks is going on over there?"

Everyone turned just as Scylla clasped hands with Notas. The glow in their eyes increased to a fierce roaring light were there was none. Everywhere around the campsight the twinkling lights of a Chell beam-in started. The subroutines that Macfadyan had inserted into this Blanche clone to help her survive a little longer kicked in and her voice rang out with command and authority.

"Cre'at keep them buisy, the rest of you grab your weapons and keep moving, don't give them the chance to get a lock on you!"

Cre'at roared out of the crowd of people, head cannon blazing.

The Chell had learnt from their last encounter and all of the plasma weapons were aimed at Cre'at. Bolt after bolt struck his metallic shell knocking him further and further out of the clearing. Notas and Scylla, both still holding hands, picked weapons, their eyes still shining with a brilliant radiance giving them a glowing halo. They turned to attack the nearest person with both swords who happened to be Blanche who was hard pressed to defend herself. There was a massive explosion and Cre'at tumbled off into the undergrowth leaving a fireball in his wake. The heat washed over everyone in the clearing. For Blanche the next few minutes were a long corridor with blades flashing at the end of it. They slowly pushed her back, with sweat pouring off her as she tried moves she didn't even know she knew in a attempt to throw them off but to no avail .

With a snapping hiss, a blade of pure light sliced through Notas's wrist that held Scylla. The lights in their eyes died. As Notas turned to deal with this new threat, Macfadyan pulled the light sword up and back-handed him with it, across the throat, sending the head spinning across the clearing. Taking advantage of the distraction Blanche slashed wildly at Scylla, coursing her to tumble to the ground and lay still, a puppet with her strings cut.

The undergrowth behind the Chell exploded to reveal a singed Cre'at who opened fire on them.This was now personal as far as the Sot'm was concerned. As one, Blanche and Macfadyan ran to Jalke's tent only to see the thing that was Erinyes dive out of the tent followed by a bloodied Jalke. Macfadyan started forward but Blanche held him back,

"No, he must finish this himself. But feel free to stop anyone or anything else from interfering ".

Annoyed at the fact that Blanche had the cheek to try to issue him with orders, no matter how much sense they made, Macfadyan stood there muttering obscenities and making casual and contemptuous flicks with his sword at any Chell that passed within range.

Erinyes and Jalke circled each other wearily. Jalke aware of his surroundings but concentrating on Erinyes, whilst Erinyes, looking around nervously and seeing that the Chell were being defeated, relaxed and retracted her spikes.

A look of horror suddenly seeped over her features. Her arm spikes shot out again and she leapt into battle with an anguished cry, attacking in an unreserved fury.

After a lighting display of parries and faints, Erinyes seemed to throw herself on Jalke's blade and with a sigh and strange half smile, she died.

Macfadyan pressed the stud on the hilt of the sword which retracted with a snapping hiss.

"Hmm. Interesting little trinket, didn't think it would come in quite as handy as it has, though". He then went to look for his Dalek gun. Blanche just stared at him open mouthed.

People started clearing up and tending to the wounded. Cre'at floated up to Macfadyan.

* Is this why you spent an unusually long amount of time with the newcomers? You knew something like this would happen? Overbalance the bi-podual seeds *

It took a few minutes for Macfadyan to work out what Cre'at had said and once he had, he shot the Sot'm a look of pure venom.

"If Magyar and Jalke are to be believed, the previous attack by the Chell was atypical. They usually T-mat in, not walk and in greater numbers. So I gave the facts to Magyar".

Blanche who had strolled over to see what was going on, piped up,

"Wot you mean, barf features"?

"You know since we visited the American colonies, your vocabulary has deteriorated hideously. Magyar is an organic probability calculator. It was he who suggested that Notas, Scylla and Erinyes were artificial and a deliberate plant."

* They were plastic flowers? *

Ignoring him, Macfadyan started to walk back to the cooling corpses of Notas and Scylla. He picked up the severed hand and started probing the wrist. Blanche started groaning and looked away,

"You mean he can see in to the future?"

"What? Oh no, no, no, no, no. He merely calculates and extracts the most likely facts that could happen. No one can see in to the future!"

Blanche look at Macfadyan curiously.

"Then how do you explain him seeing us arriving?"

With an annoyed sideways glance at Blanche, Macfadyan pulled what looked like a metal filament out of the severed hand, making the whole hand twitch and Blanche grab her stomach and start running for the forest bushes.

"You see, Cre'at? As I thought they are two components of a big bomb. Put them both together and by holding hands they build up enough energy to achieve critical mass and then boom! You know sometimes I amaze even myself . What's wrong with Blanche?" he asked, innocently.

Cre'at's detailed explanation to that question put the whole camp off the idea of eating anything for a few hours.

They set off early next morning, deeper into the swamp. As they progressed further the tree line thinned out. Loosing their leaves, becoming dead, spidery fingers pointing skywards. Progress slowed as the ground grew soft, treacherous and bog riddled. The air grew gradually more quite as the bird and insect life was left behind. A ground mist sprung up, the clouds in the direction they were heading were boiling and turbulent with the occasional lightning flash. The chatter and talking amongst the group stilted and quit as the tension in the air took on a physical force. Except for Macfadyan who seamed oblivious to every thing.

"You know, someone has gone to a lot of trouble to set all this up!"

In the centre of the swamp was a standing stone complex and Macfadyan's eyes took on a new light of unshakable curiosity.

"What do you make of them Cre'at ?"

Cre'at floated closer while Macfadyan rummaged in his pockets for his sensor probe. The rest of the troop spread out trying to find dryer, firmer ground in case they were staying more than a few hours or it had to be defended.

The standing stones seemed to be covered in runic script. Macfadyan and Cre'at spent a few moments wondering around the entire sight, making a few closer examinations of the larger stones and mentioning their recent adventure in Jersey. They both met by a low down alter-like stone that was also covered with the rune-like inscriptions and two hand-like indentations,

"Artificial!"

* Artificial! *

"Did you notice the direction of the silicates? They don't follow a natural progression!"

* It is the quarts tepesate. They are arranged like logic gates. *

"There are latent energy forces flowing through all points of this circle."

* Major power lines are flow through this alter stone. It could some form of activator. *

They both looked at the alter closely for moments then at each other and then at the same time said,

"Magyar".

While all this had been going on, the others had made camp on a slight rise in the ground, that was to one side of the stones, as it was the only relatively dry piece of land that was definable. The first flicker of flames were being nurtured from the dry kindling that they had collected along their route. Once things had been established Blanche made her excuses and left to answer the call of nature. She headed of towards some scabrous trees and bushes some way off. After adjusting herself, she turned round to head back when she noticed a gleam from some tufts of grass and earth, that when pulled back revealed a larger hole or warren. It was then the instincts and skills that made her the best sneak thief in nineteenth century London kicked in (despite Macfadyan's best attempts to augment them out of her) and she slid down the hole. The small mud clad tunnel soon gave way to metal. It was this she could see from the outside. It developed into a service tunnel with access panels imbedded in the walls and opened up at the top of a vast cavern sized chamber, alive with activity. Beneath her on the camber walls and floor was a Chell production line. Arms and legs were being assembled onto bodys. Pale, white maggot like worms, as long as a man's arm, fat segmented and the colour of dead flesh were being lifted by mechanical hands and placed into elongated heads. Which were then attached to the now familiar Chell body. They then marched to what looked like massive cargo lifters, which began a long rise to the roof of the chamber.

"Oh bloody Hell!!"

She turned and scrambled back up the tunnel, slipping over when she reached the mud.

Above, Macfadyan had brought Magyar over to see the alter stone. He was sitting on a form of sedan chair peering myopically at it to see if it stirred any memories in him. Macfadyan and Cre'at stood over him discussing possible meanings behind the symbols, to see if that helped his memories.

It was then that a scratched, mud smeared Blanche, came staggering towards them. Gasping, short of breath, she began waving wildly with one hand back the way she came. The other hand, much to Macfadyan's horror, grasped his arm with muddy fingers, leaving prints up and down his sleeve.

"Chell! (gasp!), 'ole bloody nest of em,(cough!), 'undreds on the way up now!"

Macfadyan with a look of disgust firmly disentangled her hand from his sleeve while making a the nessecary mental re-adjustment to Blanche speak.

"So that's somewhere between twenty and a hundred is it? Better run down and tell Jalke and Crilla that we're going to have some company".

With a groan of protest she pulled her self upright and staggered off.

"Right! Cre'at, Magyar, let us see if we cannot figure out this little puzzle box."

Within moments of the first man reaching the stone circle, the first Chell had broken through the surface of the swamp. They eventually stood around the stones watching, waiting.

"What are they waiting for?"

Jalke stood next to Macfadyan, staring round at the Chell.

"What? Oh, them. Its just another test to see if we are intelligent enough to do the right thing and use our escape route or just plain stupid primates and try to fight our way out."

While everybody was watching the Chell, Magyar had retrieved a knife from the inside recesses of his sedan chair and used it to scrape the surface layer of skin from his hand. It revelled a set of metal contacts splayed at every joint of the hand. With horror and fascination he kept looking from his hand to the alter stone. With a slight sucking sound he slid of the chair and began crawling carefully towards the stone alter.

Crilla walked up to Macfadyan and Jalke,

"How many would you say there were?"

Macfadyan had just finished a quick head count, when a massive subsonic roar burst over their heads. They whirled round to see the space above the stones buckle and distort, as if reality itself was being poured down the drain. Blanche staggered towards them through the fierce wind that was blasting about them, her words were snatched away as soon as she shouted them.

"What is it?"

Cre'at was the first to answer,

* An energised trans-spacial conduit *

This was met by a blank look from Blanche who turned to Macfadyan for help in a translation.

"Wrong! Completely wrong! It's more of a time/ space corridor. But with the temporal deviation in abeyance of course".

She turned back to Cre'at, her face still clouded. Seeing this Cre'at made a mental adjustment downwards by several degrees.

* It is a magic door *

"Well, why didn't you say so? Lets use it and get the buggering hell away from here then!"

"Well now, that's a novel idea! I hadn't thought of that one!" Macfadyan sighed,

" Cre'at, you and Blanche get everyone moving. Jalke, help me with Magyar!"

Magyar had leaned against the altar stone, using it to keep himself upright. The runes on all the stones were shining with a yellow golden light, looking more like the etchings on printed circuit board. The skin on his hands and arms was blackened and burnt. Wisps of smoke were rising from what was left of his hair and mouth, the skin on his face was boiling. His clear purple eyes snapped open as they approached, uncontainable energies burned in his eyes. He forced his words out through clenched teeth

"Its to late for me! My Prince, when you find the Lady Arulan remind her of my warning. Macfadyan, you will save my world but don't over do it."

Blue flame started to play over his erupting flesh, a scream finally ripped from his mouth as his body was consumed. Jalke and Macfadyan turned and as one dived through the closing portal.

Half a world away

He lay sprawled across his bed, hair in disarray, an empty wine decanter lay just within reach of his fingertips. Rablan was doing what any doomed man would do and had spent the last few nights drinking himself into a stupor. His brain pulsed with something more than just a headache. He opened one blood shot eye and glared at the servitor that was standing over him. It pulsed another message into his brain that was interpreted by his implanted circuits. His own voice echoed around his brain,

"Twelve subjects have entered the time /space corridor at the Marti aperture. Their E.T.A. is ten minuets. "

Rablan tried to pull his wits together,

"Delay their progress for about twenty minutes. Oh, and relocate the corridor's exit from the reception area to the containment facility and have a Chell group there to great them.

Within fifteen minutes he was washed, changed and examining himself in the mirror. Straightening the cavalry uniform he made sure that the gold braid fell correctly. He looked himself in the eye,

"Inside my heart is breaking, my makeup may be flaking, but my smile still stays on. On with the show!"

He turned and strolled from the room.

The room was porcelain white, sterile and antiseptically clean, a large open area with doorways leading off. There were a number of freestanding consoles dotted around the room. Reality ripped and rent asunder. Crillia and Blanche came yelling out of the portal quickly followed by the rest of the men, and lastly by Jalke and Macfadyan. They took up defensive positions.

Rablan strolled casually in to the room,

"Its customary for people to knock before gaining entrance".

Crillia pulled his sword and charged forward. With a casual wave of his hand Rablan sent a pulse of shimmering air towards Crillia that sent him flying back into the wall. Macfadyan instantly pinpointed the tractor beam projectors. Rablan sighed deeply,

"Oh dear you are going to be petty about this and I had such great things planned. Oh well, no matter".

Again there was another casual gesture and thick snake like bolts of electricity lashed out of the walls, arching across the room to earth in Macfadyan and the rest, coursing them to jerk and judder and, finally, to slump to the ground. Cre'at was the last to collapse but only after every bolt had attached itself to him.

And then there was silence.

Part Three - Can I burn the maze as I go? Can I, I don't think so

Chapter Five - Down In The Meadow Where The Wind Blows Free, In The Middle Of A Field Stands A Lightening Tree...

Macfadyan stood in a large auditorium, people were scattered around him like a rash. Standing next to him a thin rat faced man, his receding hair was cropped short and his goatee was neatly trimmed. He was talking avidly and kept glancing around himself nervously. But all Macfadyan could hear was a far off mumbling. He took the opportunity to glance around him. In one corner surrounded by what looked like silhouettes or shadows was a clown. He was entertaining them by juggling globes that were painted like planets. Strolling through the hall were two mismatched figures. One was a tall blond haired figure, made even taller by a Gallifreyan collar and headdress .The robes he wore were scarlet and orange. His hands and arms waved wildly, is body wobbling with the depths of his emotions. The other figure was small compact and squat, the baggy white shirt was frayed and stained, and the greatcoat had lost its lustre. His own gravely voice counterpointed the others, sometimes agreeing sometimes not. One man stood watching in a corner that Macfadyan could not see. He wore simple subdued clothes, grey white hair; his face was intricately lined and careworn. Macfadyan tried to see what he was looking at. The man at his side kept pulling at his arm to get his attention, the crowd parted revealing the hidden corner. A woman stood there, dressed in a gentleman's pinstriped suit that was at least two sizes too big for her, the tie done up tight to the shirt but hanging loose around her slender neck, the black/ red hair was cut short in a bob style. The scarlet painted lips was pulled back in a half smile of amusement.

Suddenly the rat-faced man grabbed his arm in fear. Macfadyan looked round to see what had scared him, a figure all in white approached them as if in a hurricane, coat billowing out behind him, one hand held a hat made from a newspaper, on his tight curly black haired head, his full beard was closely cut. He approached his face alight with joy, hand out stretched in greeting. Macfadyan reached out an involuntary hand. There was a blinding white flash that dazzled the eyes.

Macfadyan woke to find Cre'at looking down at him

* Cancel the autopsy. His function is no longer impaired! *

Macfadyan sat up.

"Ah yes, the renowned Sot'm sense of humour. Well ha ha!"

He looked around the cell and groaned with heartfelt emotion. It wasn't that there was a minimalist bed or amenities; it was the fact that the walls were neon blue. Macfadyan sighed "Blue, blue, electric blue, that's the colour of the room where I shall live!"

All around the top and bottom of the walls were what looked like a border freeze in raised lines and circle patterns. The border also ran around the middle of the wall, but it was incomplete and unfinished. The last thing Macfadyan noticed was the complete absence of any form of door. In the cell with him and Cre'at was Crillia, brooding on the bed.

Macfadyan wondered around the cell polishing the odd symbol when his meanderings brought him within range, he pantomime whispered "How long as he been awake?"

* The Guard Captain was conscious when I reactivated. *

His frown increased,

"You mean I was the last to..."

He strolled off, polishing more symbols even more vigorously; he spun round almost shouting,

"And why were you knocked out? Hmm?"

* There was a surge of energy of a type I was unfamiliar with. It was beginning to override my insulation; I had to shutdown to save my core systems. *

Macfadyan stalked off to examine a small panel to one side of the sleeping pallet muttering so every one could hear,

"What's the point of having an indestructible companion if he keeps falling asleep?" He poked the panel that was about the size of a small keypad but with a flat surface where the key should be. His finger left an indentation on the surface that after a few seconds rose to a slight bulge then returned to a flat surface again.

"Interesting. Have you seen this, Cre'at?"

* Yes. It is a form of touch sensitive mnemonic metal. *

"Oh. Well. Pardon me for breathing. What's wrong with Crillia?"

* The Guard captain is sulking because I would not let him attempt to open the door until you were upright. *

"Too difficult for you, eh? Well never mind. It probably need's some one of my intellect to sort it out ".

Crillia stared from the bed,

"No! Cre'at didn't want to carry you and I didn't want to leave you on your own, no telling what type of mess you would get in to."

Macfadyan started to inscribe symbols on the flat keyboard with far too much vigour than necessary

"Every ones a critic!"

With a flourish he finished inscribing the symbols that were missing from the boarder Patten (in the right order) and the door melted in. They all turned and rushed for the door, only to bump into Blanche and Jalke, who were standing outside about to open the door and let them out. Macfadyan's flourish fell flat along with the delight on his face. He stalked off through the crowd of people.

"I'm glad to see you all worked it out for yourselves. I mean, I'm not going to be here all the time to hold your hands. So its nice to see you standing on your own two feet."

Rablan relaxed in a giant bath, steam billowing around him. An empty decanter and glass with the last dregs of claret lay to one side of the bath. He was laying back eyes half closed drowsing. A servitor Chell marched into the chamber. A sudden thought pulse awakened Rablan.

"The subjects have left the holding area."

"What? Really? It took them this long?"

He rose out of the bath,

"Have my clothes laid out, allow the princess another one of her escape attempts and then herd her to the others. Then I suppose they had better find their way to the command centre."

It had taken Aralan about a week to get the right items and gather enough wine. The Chell entered her chambers at roughly the same time. The two of them took up their customary positions at the door. She lit the end of the rag that was stuffed in to the wine bottle and threw it as hard as she could. It shattered on the Chell's armour spreading the burning contents over both Chell. They staggered forward, batting at the flames and emitting a curious hissing sound. Aralan took a run and leaped through the flames that had spread to the doorframe. Hitting the floor in a roll on the other side, she came up running and sprinted down the corridor.

Macfadyan stood by the ornate window staring out at the green rolling fields with his Stattenhiem burbling away in his hands. He was taking sightings and making readings of the surrounding countryside,

"Well according to these readings the ship is about two miles away and about a mile down in that direction", he said, pointing at a blank wall.

"What we really need is some form of information outlet. This way." He raced off down the corridor leaving a bewildered crowd of people in his wake. A sudden consternation from round the corner of the corridor behind the group caused everyone to take up defensive positions. Aralan came racing round the corridor, pulling down candelabras behind her. She was followed about thirty seconds later by five servitor Chell. There were cries of joyous exclamations followed by shouts of warning and alarm. Jalke and Crillia, who were closest, disposed of two of them while Cre'at systematically shot down the rest. Macfadyan thundered down corridor activating his Dalek gun, then looked slightly crestfallen when he realised that the gunplay had finished.

"Ah yes. Aralan. Well its good to see you, alive. It seems you made a remarkable escape and just in time for our little visit no less!" Jalke rounded on Macfadyan,

"Just what is that supposed to mean? As you could see she was being chased by Chell!"

"Forgive me, Jalke. I didn't mean to raise a mark against Aralan, its just our stage manager is getting a bit kack handed!" He turned back up the corridor, shouting back up it,

"Come on, let's go see the man behind the curtain!" The corridor opened up to form an enlarged area, a form of stylised T-junction with a grand staircase, leading down to another level. Installed in the wall at the top of the stairs at about waist height was a recessed control panel. Standing next to it with some form of diagnostic unit was a servitor Chell. Creeping down the corridor, using the furniture as cover was Jalke, Crilla and the rest. While standing at the other end was Macfadyan watching with bemused amusement, with Blanche pressed flat against the wall hissing at Macfadyan to:

"For Christ sake, get down!" They crept forward using only hand signals for communication. Silently they pulled their swords and rushed forwards. They had spent their lives' fighting Chell and even with them covered in chitin's armour they still had weak spots. The fight was short, brutal and one sided. Once it was over Macfadyan ambled down the remainder of the corridor,

"Now that you've finished playing soldiers, perhaps we can finish, Mmm?" He started snapping open panels and hatches to take a look in side "Hello, hello. What do we have here?" He crouched down and stared into one of the hatches while reaching in to one of his pockets and retrieving his Stattenhiem remote and held it in front of the contacts to plug in diagnostic equipment. Metal oozed out of the front plate on the remote's front plate, toothpaste like. When he let go it remained fixed in position. He then taped a contact on its surface and a wire frame keyboard and monitor swirled in to existence. He flexed his fingers and brought them to rest on the green glowing, floating keys. Aralan stood at Macfadyan's shoulder, staring in fascination at the holographic read out. Waving her hand through the screen she jumped as it broke up into interference. Macfadyan lightly slapped her hand.

"Don't do that! You'll disperse the field!"

"My lord Macfadyan, what is it?"

"Merely the TARDIS remote data relay operated via the Stattenhiem remote rod. The monmenetic control pad is run by the block transfer program, making it a universal plug in plate and with the holo interface I can enter any data system. Of course it would be much more quicker if I could interface it directly via the telepathic circuits, but no, the designers tell me that this looks much nicer! Hallo what's this, it looks interesting? Cre'at what do you make of these "?

As Macfadyan's hands had been typing over insubstantial keyboard, information and data had been steaming through the air in Gallifreyan script, finally resting on a 3D model of the building they were in. Cre'at floated up to gaze critically at the plan from one side and then the other paused for a few moments.

* Energised photons. *

"Not the projection! What it's projecting!! Here and here!" Macfadyan pointed at sections of the wire frame model, and then pressed a luminous green key and the view zoomed in to one of the points he had highlighted. Even before Macfadyan could point to them again Cre'at ventured,

* There are at least fifteen industrial class tractor beam emitters placed throughout the superstructure of the building. A power loss would cause the walls and floor to peel away from the inner structure. The surface area of the building is only five hundred meters, the foundations only go down as far as two hundred meters. There is a high percentage the TARDIS is not here! *

Macfadyan snorted and his fingers played over the keys,

"Jalke, if we want to find this 'Rablan' I would suggest you look here first" The view shifted and changed to highlight two areas "We are here, this down here seems to be some kind of command chamber".

"Then that's where we will have to go!"

Macfadyan begin to shut down the Stattenhiem.

"Cre'at, a word in your audio receptors!"

The room was almost a long corridor, a hall in white marble, large stain glass windows down one side let multi-coloured light to stream in augmenting the readouts from the high tech equipment that lined the other wall. The furthest wall away from the entrance was draped in a crushed red velvet sheet that was pleated down to fit in the back of a high tech throne. Slumped on the throne, stabbing listlessly at the in built controls was Rablan.

Crouching round the edge of the entrance hall were Crillia, Alamour, Blanche, Jalke and Aralan. Further down the corridor Cre'at and Macfadyan was pouring over the readings on the Stattenhiem. Cre'at was pointing to part of the holo-display and Macfadyan was vigorously shaking his head. Jalke made a countdown motion with his hands. When he reached zero they charged in, coursing Macfadyan to look up in annoyance.

"Induction to destruction who wants to die?"

Rablan jumped in surprise and anticipation as a crowd of people rushed in. There was a nervous smile plastered on his lips as the servitor Chell were rapidly dispatched. Without their more advanced weaponry they had no combat skills to speak of. The fight was brief, brutal and one sided. Afterwards only the attackers were left standing.

Rablan stood, clapping his hands very slowly

" Bravo, bravo, congratulations on such a wonderful display I enjoyed it enormously. But all rather pointless really." He made an aggressive gesture with his hand and the group was picked up and slapped against the wall at above head height and was fixed their under tremendous pressure. Rablan stepped way from the throne to examine them, in much the same way some one would look at paintings in an art gallery

"You know, they don't look to comfortable dangling up there like that".

Rablan, believing he was alone, whirled round, startled, to find Macfadyan sprawled over his throne, legs dangling over one of the arms. A ghost of a smile played on Rablan's lips

"And who might you be, Sir?"

"I might be any number of things. My friend calls me Macfadyan but you can call me my Lord".

"Are you here to beg for your life, for theirs? " Rablan nodded up to his groaning captives. Macfadyan slide round on the throne until he was sitting normally.

"No, I'm here to bargain for yours!"

"Of all the arrogance. I am ruler of every thing I see. Everything was put on this world to serve me, even you!" Rablan made a claw like gesture and Macfadyan was lifted to the centre of the room, to hang there like a puppet, "So, you're the great Time Lord. You're not as dangerous as they thought. Perhaps we can put you in storage."

Macfadyan, pressure building up on his ribs, looked at Rablan, while one hand slowly slid to his pocket.

"Who thought I was dangerous? Who's working with you? Tell me!"

"Don't you know? You're a Time Lord; I thought you know every thing? Well it's . . . no I think it would be more fun if you find out for yourself, the look on your face will be exquisite."

"Alright, child, that's enough gloating. Now, Cre'at!"

Cre'at who had been hiding just round the door arch, floated into view and started to vibrate rapidly. Macfadyan succeeded in pulling out his Stattenhiem remote rod, fingers rapidly playing over the surface and it also started to vibrate. The noise that Cre'at and Macfadyan produced rapidly passed into the ultrasonic range. The people trapped against the walls slowly started to slide down them. Macfadyan was dropped to the floor but landed with cat like grace. Rablan looked around himself aghast, shouting almost like a child

" Stop it! Your not allowed to do this. Stop it!"

Jalke hit the floor in a roll and came up throwing his knife. Macfadyan only got time to shout" NO!" as the knife caught Rablan in the left eye. His head jerked back from the impact. He looked around; mouth opening a couple of times but no words were spoken. A viscous clear liquid from his ruined eye rolled lazily down his face. There was a sparking sound and the smell of burnt components, and then the back of Rablan's head blew off in a splatter of skull and blue grey brain matter. Rablan fell forward on to the floor. More clear jelly-like fluid seeped from the gaping wound. Crystalline elements of optical chips could be clearly seen, the knife had pierced one of them. Macfadyan crouched down to take a closer look. Morbid curiosity dragged Aralan over.

"Now that doesn't seem right! Hmm. What is wrong with this picture?" Aralan looked at Macfadyan

"What is the problem?"

It was Cre'at that answered her.

* Green! The colour of monsters is Green! *

There was a groan from deep within the building's structure. Macfadyan looked around.

"Ah nutbunnies! I had hoped this wouldn't happen!"

The others looked around wildly. Blanche cornered Macfadyan.

"Alright, longshankes, what the hells going on?"

Macfadyan gave her a piecing look.

"The tractor beams that held this building together have shut off with the death of old Rablan there. This building is about to peel apart like a ripe banana!"

Blanche looked puzzled, "What's a Banana?"

Another deep vibrating groan shock the building coursing the floor to pitch at an alarming angle. "Proceed to the centre of the building and find your way down as fast as your bipedal motivator units will carry you!"

Aralan looked at Cre'at blankly.

"What did he say?"

Macfadyan rolled his eyes skywards, "He said RUN!"

The floor shifted again as one everyone turned and ran for the door. The floor sank by another three meters and tilted sideways with daylight streaming through the gaps that had opened up in the walls.

In the corridors outside, handfuls of Chell foundered around aimlessly, stumbling and falling whenever any tremor struck the building. They only succeeded in getting in the party's way as they tried to leave. Rock dust and masonry rained down upon them. The distant rumble rapidly increased to a deafening roar. With growing bruises they made it to the relative safety of the core superstructure. With a shattering crack the din faded away leaving a louder silence to ring in their ears. They stood in the centre stairwell, staring out on the rolling green fields. It took them another two hours to climb down past fractured walls and shattered stairs.

Once they reached the bottom, they paused to take stock of the situation. Macfadyan turned to Cre'at, "What would you say the damage to that building is?"

"There is eighty three percent damage to the building. However if the tractor beams are reactivated and the main slabs are reintegrated the damage is only fifteen percent."

"Thought as much. Aralan, Jalke this is your world, where do we go now?"

Jalke looked at his men thoughtfully, "We need somewhere to rest, gather our strength and find out exactly where we are."

A sudden look of realisation came over Aralan features, "When I was up in the tower trying to get out I noticed the spire of a large building beyond the forest, in that direction". She waved her hand in a specific direction. Macfadyan glared in the direction she had indicated and considered his next move thoughtfully,

"Is there now? That's interesting."

Blanche stood in front of him looking up at his face for a few moments, "Are you going to stand their thinking how wonderfully heroic you look or are we going to get moving?" Giving her a scowl he stalked over to talk to Cre'at. Jalke looked around him at what was left of his men, "We will have ten more minuets rest and then move out to investigate what this building is. It will be dark soon!"

It was just turning dusk when the travelling party broke out of the forest on to the edge of the monastery's cultivated lands. As they approached, what looked like gas powered street lamps, situated in the lanes between the cultivated plots, sparked in to ignition. On closer inspection it turned out they were little electric bulbs with their elements designed to flicker and dance like little flames. The monk's that were gathering up their tools for the night stopped to watch the travellers. Macfadyan took a long hard look at the monastery. It was about twice the size of the one he used to visit at Glastonbury, before the dissolution of the church, (He liked it there, it was quite restful). He tried and failed to place the social level. The best way to describe it was an ultra baroque style structure, full of buttresses, arches and columns. Huge stained glass windows stared out in to the gathering darkness, like the compound eyes of a huge fly. A delegation of Brothers approached out of the darkened interior of the monastery to greet them. There was much restrained curiosity from the Brothers that gathered around them. Jalke bowed low before them.

"Brothers of the cloth, please forgive the disturbance on your lands but we crave your indulgence, a meagre rest bite, for food, a place to rest and could you perhaps tell us where we are?"

The Brother, who was in charge of this welcome party, bowed even lower.

"But of course, my lord we would be a poor order if we sent away every pilgrim who knocked at our door". He turned to one of the younger acolytes "Brother Marlkshal inform the Abbot that we have guests". The young Brother picked up his vestments and raced back to the citadel. With that business dealt with the leader turned back to the party,

"Can you make it to the temple or do you need assistance?"

Jalke looked relieved, "No holy one, just food and rest".

The Brother just smiled and led the way. They entered through the main door and crossed the great hall, with all the pew's passed the altar and entered the vestibule, through a side door and down a corridor with lots of doors leading off. At the end of the corridor were large ornate double doors. Coming from those doors were smells that ignited their hunger with a vengeance. Placemats had been set and a steaming tureen of soup rested in the centre of the long table with small crusty loafs of bread by every plate. This was followed by roasted lamb and spiced vegetables and finished with fruits. Accompanying these was wine, watered down so as not to intoxicate but to quench the thirst. Throughout the whole meal the Abbot quizzed them about every aspect of their saga so far. He was a small but robust man with snow-white hair that lay long around the rim of his head, and his rose red cheeks spoke of a life ether outside or in the wine cellar. Gradually, one by one, the travellers excused themselves and were shown their quarters by one of the Brothers. Until all that was left was the Abbot, Jalke, Cre'at, Macfadyan and Blanche. But Blanche had long ago surrendered to sleep and her head was pillowed in her arms. The Abbot called a halt to the proceedings claiming that he was not as young as he once was but looked forward to see them all in the morning. A group of young monks stood at a discreet distance waiting to show them all to their rooms. Macfadyan walked over to where Blanche sat sleeping, bent over and scooped her up his arms. With a small moan of discomfort, she nuzzled deeper into his shoulder but did not wake. And he nodded to the Brothers to show him the way. He was shown to a small chamber with a sleeping pallet, basin (which indicated internal plumbing) and the strange electric light. The Brother pulled back the quilt from the bed, informing Macfadyan that he was quartered next door and that Cre'at was in the room adjacent, then made his excuses and left. Macfadyan laid Blanche down on the bed. She immediately buried her head deep in the pillow. He covered her with the quilt and sat down on the edge of the sleeping pallet. In an unconscious gesture he brushed her hair from her face. With all this sun it had taken on the look of finely spun gold. Suddenly he was elsewhere, in the depths of his memories. London a lifetime ago, when they were two different people literally. She had managed to steal his tracer and lead him and Cre'at on a merry dance through the back streets. She was covered in dirt and dressed only in what was little more than rags, making her of indeterminate age and sex. He had invited her into the TARDIS and watched her grow from a frightened lost child into an intelligent fun loving young lady. It was her who first called him the Buccaneer at the Hyde-Pierce fancy dress party. He had come as a pirate, (what else?), and she a Gypsy. Macfadyan smiled at the memories. Of course, that was before all the bitterness and recriminations, the dark looks and scowls, that was before... The pain that his wandering mind unearthed made him jump up off the bed as if bitten. Wiping his eyes, he left the room determined to find Cre'at.

He opened the door to the chamber next to his to find Cre'at floating near the middle of the room; arms folded staring intently in to the distance. Macfadyan looked at him for a few minutes, realised just what the Sot'm was doing, then rolled his eyes and sat down on the bed. He dug out the Stattenhiem, activated the keyboard function and set to work. He accessed the TARDIS scanners. According to the readings, the ship was about a mile beneath the cathedral. He looked up again. This time Cre'at was pointing determinedly at a point at the wall. It seemed that the ship was at an entrance of a dimensionally enlarged chamber. He couldn't learn anything more this way so he shut down the Stattenhiem, got up and walked to the door. He turned back to look at Cre'at who was stroking his 'beard' thoughtfully.

"Are you going to stay here and practice that ridiculous sport all night or are you coming"?

* Ready to proceed in full. Investigational analysis of all anomalies in local area needed. *

Macfadyan gave him a look a walked from the room.

The Abbot once again knelt in front of the alter. The green glow from the Icon deepened the gloom and lengthened all the shadows.

"We have received the thirteen members of the latest cull. They are undergoing first stage processing now."

The musical voice rang round the room.

"It is imperative that the Time Lord is located among them and processed."

"I can confirm the presence of the Time Lord. He goes by the name Macfadyan,"

"The delegation has entered the edge of the system. E.T.A. for landing is twelve hours. We need those resources."

"As is your will so mote it be".

The glow flicked of and the Abbot rose to his feet, composed himself and hurried away through one of the side doors. Macfadyan leaned forward, out from behind one of the fluted pillars and into the 'candle' light.

"Interesting!"

A little while later, a technician walked down the corridor his booted feet clanging on the metal grid that was the floor, taking readings from the sides of the softly glowing blue, glass tubes that lined the wall and entered those findings on the electronic clip board he carried. He wore a white lab coat over his monk's robes and slowly proceeded with his task oblivious to any thing else. As time went on he slowly proceeded out of sight round the curvature of the corridor. Macfadyan stepped out from behind one of the tubes; laying his hand on one he snatched it back rapidly. It was ice cold. Waving it rapidly in the air in a vane attempt to make the pain go away he grabbed a handful of his coat and rubbed it on the glass to clear away some of the ice to see what was inside. It held the distinctive features of Rablan, so did the next one and the one after that, the other side contained Magyar's. With a determined face Macfadyan started looking for the ventilation shaft that lead him in to this place.

"Les yieux sans visage. Eyes without a face, got no human grace, your eyes without a face." he hummed grimly to himself.

A little later still the light of the twin moons reflected off the rippling water of the lake. Cre'at stared passively at his reflection. The rope in his hands taught with the weight that was hidden beneath the water. He wondered if this was what fishing was like. He would have to ask Macfadyan when he next popped up. The water around the rope started to bubble and froth, then a dry hand, holding a sonic screwdriver broke the 'surface' of the water and pulled on the rope. A dry Macfadyan emerged from the lake, paused a moment to slip the screwdriver into his pocket then pulled, puffed and panted the rest of his way up the rope. It didn't help that Cre'at was gradually sinking down wards lower and lower. Macfadyan finally made it out only to lie gasping for air on the ground.

"You know, I'm really not built for this kind of exercise".

* Would you like a modification? *

"No thank you not just yet. Well there's a stellar class spaceport and facilities down there that would make Ernst Blofelt spit with envy. Even Pardec Jumall would think twice about turning down such a facility"

* Who? *

"Pardec Jumall. He was what was termed a super villain. Rose to power in the early 21st century England, Home Counties. Made everyone watch Warner Brother cartoons. Still this is a way in. I think we've done all that we can at this time we better be getting back, collect Blanche in the morning and get the TARDIS."

The bright spring morning light shone through the small stain glass window casting a rainbow light on the faces of the diners when Macfadyan strolled in. The Brothers ate their breakfast in silence, but all the noise came from Blanche. She was talking animatedly about Macfadyan and their adventures together. Macfadyan watched her with a slightly crestfallen look on his face. She was sitting with the incursion party discussing avidly about things from the past and things about the future. Blanche saw them and waved them over almost bouncing up and down with enthusiasm,

"I've just been talking to Aralan and Jalke, they want to carry on the fight. Now that Rablan is gone they can free the other worlds in his vast empire. We have to help them, after all its what you do best!"

Macfadyan considered for a few moments then grabbed her by the shoulders spun her round and shook her with his enthusiasm.

"But of course we must. We have to do every thing to free the galaxy!! I think you me and Cre'at should discuss this further in your quarters. If you would all excuses us?"

Every one stood as they left the room. Jalke reached out his hand to Aralan "We have tings to discuss also."

They entered Blanche's sleeping cell. The bedclothes were still rumpled. Macfadyan strolled over, straightened up the quilt and removed the pillow. Blanche filled them all in on what the Brothers had informed her. The Brothers were, it seemed, the custodians of the information and technologies dating from a time before the coming of Rablan, when Catharcerous was part of the galactic co-operation. Macfadyan pottered around the chamber making encouraging noises while she was speaking, moving the bed, pulling out a gold and silver trinket. Flicking a contact on the side of the object it produced a discrete whine like a charge building in a common flash unit. He moved Blanche to a particular spot when he realised she had stopped speaking and was looking at him expectantly.

"What? Oh yes, absolutely. I would like to take a look at their space fleet to see if it is still space worthy after all this time. Oh, by the way child, catch!"

He tossed the trinket at her which she automatically snatched out of the air, there was aloud zap sound and the smell of ozone permeated the air in the little cell and Blanche flew across the room to land on the repositioned bed blinking rapidly.

"Keep an eye on her for me, would you Cre'at".

Macfadyan set about ripping the pillowcase off the pillow, revealing that it was covered in a fine silver and gold mesh, he gave a nod of confirmation

"Thought as much. Kenotic induction, she's been brain washed."

With a deep heart felt groan Blanche sat up on the bed

"What was I drinking last night? Oh, hello Mr. Balloon, OH GOD!"

She suddenly shot across the room to the sink. Cre'at watched with interest.

* Blanch is evacuating her digestive system. *

"Good, good. When she's finished give her one of these". Macfadyan fished out a capsule of pills. Wiping the drool from her mouth, she turned to him.

"What the hell just happened?" Handing her a glass of water he informed her

"I'll tell you later."

Jalke and Aralan strolled through the cultivated plots, deciding whether this was the way they wanted their futures to go. Leaving behind the planet they knew, accepting mechanical grafts into their bodies. But the freedom of the galaxy was at stake.

It was at this point that Aralan noticed a pale figure standing still and silent in the meadow. The sun was in her eyes so she couldn't see exactly who it was but he seemed to be a distant figure, not really there. It was like he was wearing white mist. She blinked and the figure was gone. And in that moment she remembered the words of Magyar

"He can set my people free, but the cost would make my peoples atrocities look like spilt pigs blood. He is the Beloved of the dark lady".

Chapter Six - ...Never Give In Too Easily

Macfadyan finished hammering the last of the pitons in to the ground, and then put the hammer away. Pulling out some nylon rope from his pocket, he attached one end to the loop in the piton, the other he fed into the 'lake'. He pulled out what look like a collection of small parabolic dishes on mini tripods and set them up on the side of the lake. They emitted what looked like a fountain of sparks in a cone of pink light. A hole opened in the lake and the rope dropped through. Testing that the rope was secure Macfadyan quickly disappeared down it.

It took Blanche a few moments to scramble down the rope to stand beside Macfadyan on a gantry at the top of the hanger bay. Macfadyan had a small card like object pressed up to his eyes; it had small lenses in it that made his eyes look large and fish like. It had "property of the Sidney Opera House, Jul 2nd, 2268" printed on it's side.

"Interesting. It seems that they have visitors!"

He passed the opera glasses to Blanche. Cre'at just increased magnification on his visual receptors. In the centre of the hanger bay was a slick chrome space yacht. It was all fine wings, fins grace and style. Down by the entry ramp were two large, black men, dressed in a combination of black leather and silver studs. They had high powered energy weapons hanging from their belts but both held huge scimitars in their crossed hands. Blanche looked towards the hanger's exit only to see the Abbot leading a group of leather clad attendants who were pushing a large water tank that contained a green human worm.

" What! The hell is that?"

"Appearances can be deceptive you know Blanche. Just because he looks like a human maggot doesn't mean he is. He might be here to redeem these people, to set them free. He might be overflowing with the milk of 'human' kindness."

"Well is it, I mean he?"

"Oh good grief, no, child! That grubby little money grabber is a Mentor from Thorus Beta. They have all the morality of a human maggot. The best way to describe them is as intergalactic con men or corrupt business directors". Blanche nodded in understanding and handed the glasses back. Macfadyan took another look before putting the back in his inside pocket.

"The thing is; what are they doing here? This whole operation is far too contrived for them. It's simply far too expensive for them. Hmm, tell you what, shall we go down and ask them?"

It was resting allowing the automatics to monitor the external instruments. When the alert signal came through, its sluggish heart palpitated in excitement causing mild suppressants to be dumped into its systems. It activated all systems immediately. The mono visual receptor scanned the data that was displayed on the monitors in front of it. The display indicated intruder alert. Plunging the silicon rubber manipulator into the data port, it extended its data probe to further interrogate the computer. Information flooded its mind's eye. Three intruders, one Sot'm, one human augmented, one Gallifreyan. These complied with units gained in the latest cull. That they are here indicated that the first stage conditioning had not taken hold. It knew from its own experience that three doses of conditioning were needed. It activated a group of human replicants with the orders: seek, locate, detain. It also informed the supreme. This all took less than three seconds. Once this was done it returned to stand by mode, dreaming distantly of when it was once a man walking in green fields.

They ran down the gantry, a couple seconds with the sonic screwdriver had the door open and they were in the complex proper. A distant electronic throbbing hear beat echoed down the corridor, which made Macfadyan pause as a thought occurred to him and then was rapidly dismissed. A door at the end of the corridor shot open and five jump-suited, armed guards bolted through it to take up defensive positions.

"You! Stay where you are! Drop all weapons!"

Macfadyan's group kept on walking and Blanche called out to the men,

" Its not us you want mister. But we saw them duck into one of those rooms back there." Macfadyan shot her a disgusted look.

"Don't start moaning, gitface. It's always worth a try." She hissed at him. One of the guards shot a warning shot at the ceiling with a Luminas green/yellow bolt of energy. Macfadyan dived into one of the door alcoves and started to rummage in his pockets,

"Ah, Nut Bunnies!" he exclaimed. Cre'at and Blanche took cover on the opposite side of the corridor as a hail of yellow/ green energy flashed down the corridor. Macfadyan pulled his Dalek gun from out of his pocket as a magician would pull a rabbit out of a hat and started to input a sequence on the keyboard.

"We really don't have time for all this, so..." He through himself prone and fired wide beam. The gun roared like thunder. The guards screamed in pure agony as the energy glow lit them up like a photographic negative and crumpled to the floor as the air around them churned with the deadly radiation. The glow faded and they lay still, their bodies slightly smoking. With a satisfied nod Macfadyan picked himself up and waved Cre'at and a green-faced Blanche forward absent-mindedly.

"I'm starting to loose my patience with this wretched little planet", he muttered.

It sat in the command centre as a spider would sit in its web, the deep sound of an electronic heartbeat vibrated around it. The black and gold livery of its armor gleamed dully in the subdued light. The eyestalk briefly alighted on one of the multiple view screens for a few seconds, absorbing all information before moving on.

It was the last of its kind; there were only two others on this planet that were its equals. It could remember a time when its race had an empire that spread through time and space. When other planets would surrender merely at the mention of their name. Now they were reduced to hiding in hermetically sealed chambers for fear of the virus that had laid them low. But that would soon change. The new army that they were building out of this planet's inhabitants would be the foundation of a second empire. They would smash the planet of the robot race that had been their down fall, rip the cure to the virus from their data bases, allowing the pure bloods to once again take control.

An alert from security control informed it that the intruders had eliminated the replicants that had been sent to contain them. It reviewed the data of past encounters against the Time Lords. Twenty five percent of encounters had ended with the destruction of the Time Lord with no useful information. Seventy five percent had ended in loss of all operational personnel and equipment. This Time Lord seemed more ruthless than others. It came to a rapid decision and then sent back its commands.

"Seal off the briefing rooms and V.I.P areas. Activate a cadre of augmented units with orders to seek, locate and exterminate!"

The lift doors opened and Cre'at floated out followed cautiously by Blanche and then Macfadyan. The Time Lord was holding the Stattenhiem, with a wire frame map of the surrounding area floating above it in miniature. As soon as they left the doors closed and the lift disappeared into the depths of the complex. The long metal clad corridor ended in a large arch that shimmered as if in a heat haze. This was the direction that Macfadyan was heading. As they passed underneath the arch there was a rapid sense of disorientation as gravity flipped then re-settled. Beyond it were a few anti-chambers leading into one huge chamber. Macfadyan continued to search in the anti-chambers, while Blanche and Cre'at proceeded to the end to look over the rail into the chamber beyond. The walls of the chamber receded into infinity and as far as the eye could see were the domed heads and dropped eyestalks of thousands and thousands of dormant Daleks. A gentle mist floated around the casings.

Macfadyan frowned as he checked his readouts. Then he brightened as the Stattenhiem beeped. Checking the readout he walked into the shadows. The TARDIS was sitting on an anti-grav pallet in one of the side chambers surrounded by parabolic projectors. The air around it shimmered with an oil slick on water intensity Macfadyan surveyed the equipment with a professional air, pulled out his sonic screwdriver and set to work dismantling the main projectors junction box. While he worked he whistled a tune.

Blanche stood hands gripping the rail and stared at the rows and rows of Daleks. Despite the coldness of the air, her checks were flushed.

"He promised me, he promised!" Letting go of the rail she ran in search of Macfadyan leaving Cre'at to count domes.

Macfadyan pulled out the last cable. It didn't move. He made a small noise of annoyance and tugged. Still nothing happened.

"I really do NOT have time for this", he snarled. Wrapping the cable around his hand he leaned away from the junction box and yanked with all his might. With an electric crackling sound and a slight shower of sparks the cable detached. He staggered back, his legs becoming twisted up in one of the dishes and he came crashing down, cracking his head on the metal floor. The swirling globe collapsed just as Blanche burst in, in an agitated state.

"You promised me that we would never see them. You said you would deal with them!"

"Deal with what, you petulant little child?"

"DALEKS!"

"Ah Ploppy the Yak!"

Macfadyan stared down upon the rows of Daleks in their metallic blue with silver hemispheres,

"Bugger. Awhole freezer departement of the little gits. Hmmf. How many, Cre'at?"

* One million, five hundred and six thousand, seven hundred and eighty three *

"Well that explains the test we've been subjected to over the last couple of weeks." Blanche looked at Macfadyan askew

"How do you mean?"

"Oh come on, Blanche Wake up and smell the Ractajino. The hi-Tec instruction, the atmosphere of constant war and patriotism. This whole planet is one great Dalek nest! These poor, deformed lost souls down there are all that is left of the great Catharceran armies of the past." Macfadyan dismissed the hall and its occupance with a wave of his hand

"Come along you two, we need to move the TARDIS manually. This chamber has been augmented dimensionally, we have to move it out before we can take off." As the group moved away from the rail with Blanche complaining bitterly, five eyestalks swivelled round to look up at them. The Daleks they were attached to then disengaged from the nutrient feeding pipes and glided up the ramp.

As they walked, Macfadyan clicked into lecture mode.

"The Daleks got in to a non-shooting war with a robotic race called the Movellans that went on for a century or so until the Movellans cracked the Dalek genome and created a so-called 'intelligent' virus. The Dalek Empire disappeared almost overnight. Small factions escaped to work on a cure, but each faction thought that the other faction's cure somehow made them less than Dalek and so began fighting amongst themselves. Some even abandoned the search until they had wiped out every other faction first. That's roughly when we are now. This situation lasted for another century or three until one faction gains dominance, eliminated or absorbed all the other factions, founded the second Dalek Empire and finally buggered off to the Seriphia galaxy. Where they took up knitting for all I know. So you see, child, I can't keep track of every green slimy blob can I?"

Blanche looked at him sullenly,

"The other one did!"

Doubt clouded Macfadyan's face,

"Other one? What other one? What are you blathering about child?"

Blanch look at him almost pleadingly,

"The other Macfadyan, the one before you!"

"Oh my dear girl, as you are so fond of saying..." he struck a dramatic pose "I'AM MACFADYAN". Glaring at him Blanche muttered some thing under her breath.

"What did you say young lady? Oh look, just go away, stand over there and keep an eye on the corridor."

She stood at the top of the T-junction just down from the lift, in constant motion due to nerves. Macfadyan and Cre'at burst out of the shimmering arch with the crystalline TARDIS. The lift doors opened and six Daleks poured out. Blanche gave a yelp and ran towards the ship. Cre'at activated his head cannon and shot round the front of the ship. As Macfadyan hit the off switch for the Grav-pallet then fumbled in his pocket for the ship's key and Dalek gun, Cre'at fired off five thick bolts of energy aimed at their eye stalks. Macfadyan stared almost open mouthed as the searing bolts of energy hit a panel of distorted air just in front of the lead Dalek and dissipated.

"The little buggers!" he murmured with a slight smile on his lips. "They've developed personal shielding. You have to admire their ingenuity." With the ship behind him he unlocked the door without looking and rushed inside. He bounded over to the console, slapping one hand down on a contact making the exterior scene swirl into existence between one of the aches that decorated the console room. He could see Blanche white face and wide eyed, green fire coming too close for comfort as she ran. He began twisting dials and flicking switches on the console. Macfadyan looked up to notice Blanche had stopped running and her face had taken on a new level of despair as five more Dalek shapes glided in to view from the edge of the screen. They had come from behind the ship. Cre'at slipped in through the main doors and Macfadyan closed them, and then hit the dematerialisation switch. Lights flickered; indicators clicked over to red and alert klaxons went off.

"More power, more power... Still close to that damn room!" He rushed to another panel on the console and looked up again. By this time the Daleks had surrounded Blanche. They just watched her for a few moments, and then on an unspoken command, all of them opened fire. Blanche was lifted by sheer force of energy that ripped through her, crucified on a cross of power. Then she slumped to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

* They have broken Blanche *

Macfadyan casually flicked a switch, turning off the scene.

"Cre'at, you had better start breaking out another clone, I'm going to have some fun". As Cre'at glided over to the door that leads deeper in to the ship, Macfadyan looked down curiously. His left hand was clenched in a tight fist, the nails driven so deep in the flesh of the palm they had drawn blood. Lifting the hand to his face he gazed at it surprised and it took a visible effort to relax and open the hand. He then lifted a panel on the console and pushed home the plunger that lay beneath it with a vengeance. The roundels flared with an incandescent light, one of the panels sparked and started to leak a few wisps of smoke. Then the central rotor kicked in as outside the ship laboriously dissipated.

This was the V.I.P. reception lounge. Warm lighting, carpeted floor and soft furnishings to cater for humanoid comfort, Distantly a strange bleeping started. It grew stronger and was accompanied by a wheezing, groaning sound. Slowly at first, an emerald green Dalek faded into view. Looking around casually it then trundled off in search of the briefing room.

Ilan was enjoying himself. The negotiations were going well. The D.N.A. and gene splicing equipment was of course top notch and it was being sold to his customers at vastly inflated prices and the sweetest part of the deal was that these flat footed priests were willing to pay, Dacktaries, diamonds, latinum, mackanite or genetic material. His standing with Lord Kiv and the board just kept on rising. He plopped another marsh minnow into his mouth and chewed vigorously.

"You are agreed then Abbot on our price of two hundred ingots of Mackanite for the Mark five?"

One of his attendants handed over the info-chit for the Abbot to review and authorise. Ilan grabbed another hand full minnow's to stuff down his throat when the door to the briefing room shot open and a green Dalek glided in. Ilan choked, gagged and spat the half chewed minnows all over the Abbot in a reflex action. The eyestalk swung round and the metallic voice grated out,

"Are there you are! Erm has the mentor agreed to our demands?"

The Abbot jumped up in shock and surprise.

"What is happening my master? I thought your presence here was meant to be secret."

"Silence your negotiations was inefficient I have taken over".

Ilan seemed to come out of shock at hearing this,

"Doing any form of business with Daleks is against the law of the Galactic Commerce and also very bad for business. Come attendants we are leaving!" The guards scrabbled to stand around Ilan's tank, protecting him with their bodies; they started to push his water tank out. The green Dalek watched him go.

"Goodbye. Don't let the door hit you on the way out!"

At that point recessed panels in the wall snapped back to reveal a darkened tunnel packed wall to wall with Daleks in blue and silver livery. They came pouring out

"Renegade Dalek detected, all Daleks open fire. Exterminate! Exterminate! EXTERMINATE!!

Macfadyan stood at the console watching the holo viewscreen as the Daleks surrounded the ship, firing salvo after salvo into the Dalek form of the ship's exterior

"What's the matter? Can't you hurt me? Isn't that a shame, frustrating isn't it? Well hang around my friends, I have a lovely surprise for you." A bubbling ping attracted his attention and he moved to one of the panels and leaned over to have a look "Defence grid fluctuation? Now that shouldn't be happening! Perhaps the auxiliary power surge damaged the..." The panel exploded in his face flinging him crossed the console room. Red lights strobed on, alert sirens echoed around the chamber. Smoking slightly Macfadyan picked himself up and staggered over to the console and hit the demat switch. Outside the Dalek shape of the TARDIS, surrounded by green fire, bolts of blue electricity arching crossed its surface, slowly and painfully disappeared.

Cre'at floated into the console chamber to find Macfadyan with his head and shoulders in the guts of the console

* Is there a problem? *

With a cry of triumph Macfadyan extracted a small crystal globe, it was blackened and scorched, and crumbled even as he held it.

"Get a replacement would you Cre'at. You know were they are". Cre'at floated over to the wall locker that was recessed behind one of the glowing roundels and retrieved a rainbow sparkling crystal sphere. He floated back to Macfadyan to hand it over, getting a good look at Macfadyan's face.

* I did not know that your eyebrows were detachable *

Macfadyan just gave him a look and snatched at the globe and fitted it.

"I've had enough of this. Enough pussy footing around, I think. When it comes to Daleks there's really only one course of action. And to be honest, I really don't have the time, energy or patience to take them on in person, so to speak. Come a long Cre'at, we've got a nest to fumigate!" He started for the door that lead to the inner recesses of the TARDIS, stopping only to stroke one of the cats lounging around the console room.

The chamber was vast, illuminated by small patches of light. Long sections of racking stretched into the distance. On these racks was every conceivable weapon. Cre'at and Macfadyan strolled down the narrow corridor between racks rather like customers at a supermarket. Macfadyan selected a set of dull silver globes and placed them very gingerly in the trolley. Within minutes they were back in the console room. Macfadyan went straight to the console and started to make fine adjustments to the co-ordinates and the defence grid. The sound of the ship's materialisation echoed through the chamber. He checked the instruments one last time. Satisfied he opened the doors, grabbed the trolley and pushed it out, followed by Cre'at.

Because of the glare Cre'at had to rapidly adjust his visual receptors, Macfadyan stood there wearing mirrored shades. The orange /red glow of molten magma surrounded them. After Cre'at had looked all around him he approached Macfadyan,

* Where are we? *

"In the planets core. I've extended the ships shields so to give us some room to work."

* The shields that you just broke and had to repair? *

"YES!"

* Oh. *

Macfadyan lent over the trolley to retrieve one of the globes then stopped, a strange look crossing his face. He shivered,

"Did you notice that? A sort of temporal blip! No? Oh well, probably doesn't matter, hmm? ".

He rapidly pressed all the activator studs then ran for the ship shouting over his shoulder,

"Last one back is a bunch of vaporised molecules".

It took Cre'at a few seconds to realise what the globes were or what Macfadyan intended before he turned round and zoomed of beating Macfadyan back to the ship.

Aralan looked up curiously as all the birds in the forest stopped signing and took to the air at the same time in a frightened flutter. They made no noise, though, no squawking, completely silent. Then the roar started at a distance at first but rapidly it grew. The ground shifted and heaved; the bells of the cathedral begin to chime in sympathy with the tortured earth. The temperature began to rise. Aralan looked to Jalke, who was also looking around, trying to find the root of the problem, to do some thing about it. Suddenly he was gone, a red glowing hole where he was standing. Lightning arced down from the sky, the trembling of the ground increased, so she was no longer able to stand. The hole increased so that it was now a gapping chasm, looking in to a red glowing hell. It started to ooze red glowing lava that rolled leisurely towards her. In her last moments of life, Aralan recalled to things Magyars words

"He is beloved of the dark lady ".

And the lines of a nursery rhyme:

"The sky now grows dark, And the wind starts to blow, The Judder Man's amongst us, And his anger does show, We'll lift up our voices, And scream our pain, For here comes The Judder Man, Again and again, Again and again, Again and again".

They were the last words that crossed her mind as the magma devoured her.

Macfadyan watched the holo- screen, holding the lapels of his coat, rocking on his heels, and with a smug, self-satisfied look on his face. On the screen, the planet Catharcerous was dying in a fiery conflagration. Cracks appeared on its surface. Then the inevitable happened. The planet exploded. Large chunks of rock sped past the TARDIS. If you looked closely enough some of the debris consisted of charred body parts.

"Thus, I win!" He flicked a switch; turning off the image then started operating more controls

"Come along Cre'at, our work here is done. Lets see if we can get the latest Blanche up and about".

He hit the master power switch, then strolled towards the inner door humming to himself. Cre'at paused for a couple of seconds, staring after the Time Lord as if unable to comprehend what he had just witnessed. Then he floated after Macfadyan.

With a wheezing, groaning and random beeping sound, Macfadyan's TARDIS slowly faded away leaving behind the sight of the planet's remains on the view screen. Adh Saidhe sighed and leaned crossed the polished oak and walnut console and flicked the illuminated rocker switch. The Holo globe that contained the horrifying image dissolved. He was in his late forties, thin faced, close-cropped hair and neatly trimmed goatee beard. He wore dark clothes that hinted at business suit. He grasped the brass edge of the console and sighed again.

"And so it begins".

Nicola Blaine looked up from the circuit she was trying to clean. An athletic woman somewhere in her late twenties, sharp faced with a mane of brown hair, she wore clothes that were faded with time but were comfortable on her. She unfolded from the chair and hugged Saidhe from behind

"Why do you keep doing this to your self Adh? You know it's going to happen. You told me you've seen it at least twice before."

"I know Nicola, truly believe me I know! But I hope and pray that just once Macfadyan would see the error of his ways, that my presence adds a random factor that pulls him back from staring into the abyss." Straightening himself, he started to operate the controls

"But it's not to be, and the future lies this way".

With a whirling, chuffing bleeping noise Adh's ship faded from view

And somewhere in the vast multitude of the space/time vortex, mad gods were laughing...

THE END

Macfadyan endangered his soul in the making of this story