Pub and Emane returned to the wonderful ship that everyone knew and loved called the Nollal. Once they got in, pub pressed a couple buttons, demateralizing the Nollal to take flight. "Well, should we go?" Emane asked. "Go where?" Pub asked. "To the resturant. We have a time machine, after all," Emane pointed out, "We can just skip however long it takes to rebuild Orion City and see what happens." She had a point, but Pub said, "Gah, the Nollal's not a time machine! She's a type thirty TARDIS!" "Whatever," Emane said, "Same thing, right?" "No! Anyways, we can't go yet." He went and sat on the dumb looking pice of useless matter he called the swivel chair and pondered. "Why not?" Emane asked. He didn't answer. "You okay?" "Emane, I think that woman Drover mentioned my father traveled with was my mother." "Really?" Emane gasped once again, "Well that's pretty cool."
"It's more then just cool, Emane," Pub said, "My father was a Time Lord. If my mother was part human, that means I'm part Time Lord, part human!" "Wait!" Emane gasped for the last time, "A Time Lord is a species? I just thought it meant you lived a really long time. So you're a Time Lord, too? How many hundreds of years old are you?" Pub ignored her, staring off into space in his chair, his blue fedora finally beginning to slide off his head after all this time. "Father had always told me that all Time Lords aged as fast as humans before they regenerated for their first time. Then he disappeared, and after my first regeneration, I still aged the same way. I thought it was just my imagination, but perhaps... perhaps I am in fact part human." He quickly stood up. "I should be writing all this down!" He got out his tablet and began scribbling down words in Gallafreyan. Emane said, "Oh okay. Right. Wait, what?!?! What the heck does all that even mean? So, you... what!?!?"
Suddenly, the Nollal made a loud chime. "Bung!" She said. "Bung!" I said. As sudden as the noise itself, I immediately activated the old flimsy press on my console and began printing words onto flimsey. "What on Earth?! Emane gasped for the last time again, but I'll ignore her. I'll continue to print it all until it all is printed, even if flimsey paper is outdated. Pub got up from the chair and assessed the flimsey press, countless meters of thin white flimsey coming out of it. "What did you do?" He'll ask. "Nothing! I didn't touch anything!" She defended. Pub tried to grab the outcoming flimsey, but I just sped it up, making it print faster, the rotors pushing the paper out harder, the inc pressing the circular symbols sharper. Pub would have tried to stop the printer with the controlls, in time. I can see it, in space, so I have locked the controls, unable to be used for the time being.
There are piles of flimsy all over my spottless glass platform now. It is leaking onto the floor below. Pub reached for the printer's power button. He pressed it, just as I knew he would. The button wouldn't budge. He pressed harder with no luck. "Pub, what's happening!?" Emane asked, "Has this ever happened before?!" "No!" He exclaimed, "Gah, I shouldn't have bought this thing at that sketchy asteroid sale. I knew that printer software disk has loads of viruses!" But it didn't. Well, maybe a couple, but I took care of them.
The next few minutes was nothing but filled with the loud noise of the flimsy press filling the room with flimsy with all sorts of Gallefreyan symbols, charts, maps, and sketches. Pub and Emane spent the few minutes wading through the sea of the stuff.
Five minutes later, it was finished. All of it is printed. The printer finally began to slow down and come to a complete stop. When it finally did, Pub and Emane simultaneously looked at the printer. "It stopped!" She cried. "So it has," he saw. They waded over to the printer through the flimsy being careful not to tear any of it. It was all connected to one single strand that ended to what was still attached to the press. Pub tore off the end attached to the printer.
"So what's with all the paper stuff? She picked part of the middle of the strand of "paper" and studied it. Actually she didn't study it because then she said, "What language is this in? I thought the Nollal translated stuff." "It's in Gallafreyan," Pub replied, "The only language it won't translate." "Why not?" She asked. "Because it's the language of the language of the Time Lords." Emane gasped. Pub began reading the top part of the paper he tore off of the machine.
"Not so long ago, in a galaxy not so far away, there was a man sitting in a chair..."
YOU ARE READING
The Publisher
Science FictionI finally finished my Doctor Who fan fiction this summer (2016) that I have been writing for half a year now. Though it's a Doctor Who fan fic, it's not actually about The Doctor and his companions like most all DW stories are. This story is about a...
