"I didn't know when I was well off!" the General groans, pointing frantically at the holograms popping up over the table. "All twelve of them!" Each one houses a different face, yet he recognizes all of them, even those that succeeded the Warrior. It is part of a Timelord's duty to have to monitor regenerations, but everyone in high power on Gallifrey has always demanded a close eye on the Doctor's.
Suddenly Androgar jumps away from the table and says, "No, sir—all thirteen."
Another holographic bubble forms in the air, this one the home to merely a pair of thick grayish eyebrows and a piercingly steady gaze.
"Sir!" Androgar cries. "The daleks know something's happening. They're increasing their fire power."
"Do it, Doctor," the General hisses, defeated, to the first three men who appeared. "Just do it."
The youngest-looking nods once. "Okay. Gentlemen!" he shouts to his other selves. "We're ready." Then he looks at the young woman beside him, who replies only with the smallest encouraging smile. Together they lean forward and grab hold of a lever on the control panel of his machine. "GERONIMO!" he yells.
"Allons-y!" the man in the middle calls, twisting his own pulley.
The eldest of the original three rolls eyes, growling, "Oh, for God's sake. Gallifrey stands!"
The General watches as each and every one of the holograms dissipate, morphing into one giant globe. Through it, he sees thirteen blue police boxes flying through space, spiraling toward the burning, chaotic planet that has been at war for so long. He sighs, accepting Gallifrey's fate. The Doctor has been insisting all along that he knows the secret to the daleks' downfall. The General always assumed he meant the worst: destroying the planet. But perhaps the daft old man can be the one to rescue them all from a fiery demise.
Perhaps they can live.
Thirteen TARDISes fly toward Gallifrey at breakneck pace, and within the blink of an eye, everything stops.
YOU ARE READING
The Time of Change
FanfictionThere are some people who seem destined for greatness. There are others who seem stuck on the path of failure. For most of her life, Annalise Song felt as if she was the unhappy median between the two: bound to be nothing more than mediocre and soli...
