“…Miss Tarae, will you kindly release Amy?” hissed the Doctor.
“Oh, please yourself,” sighed Miss Tarae. “Her death will actually complicate things.” She put her TCE away and Amy rushed to the group. Miss Tarae then saw Susan and smiled. “Well, if it isn’t Susan! Come give your great-aunt a big hug!”
“That’s the Master,” the Doctor explained to Susan.
“Oh,” muttered Susan.
“State your business and begone, Miss Tarae!” demanded Rassilon.
“And I was hoping for something more cordial, especially from the Founder of Time Lord Society,” remarked Miss Tarae.
“Founder of-? That woman can’t be Rassilon!” laughed Susan.
“No, no, it is,” replied the Doctor.
“…WHAT?!” protested Susan. “Grandfather, what is going on here?!”
“It’s a long story,” said Amy. “Doctor, mind if Lurra Rus and I fill her in?”
“Yes, you do that,” replied the Doctor. As Amy and Lurra Rus led Susan away, introducing themselves in the process, the Doctor and Rassilon turned to Rassilon.
“I don’t recall sending the Call to YOU, Miss Tarae,” remarked Rassilon.
“You didn’t, but you DO lack a bit of technology,” replied Miss Tarae. “Engineering dimensions is hardly a one-person effort, even you must admit that.”
“…You found help on that front?” scoffed Rassilon. “I admire your cheek at that blatant lie.”
“It is no lie. I requested the aid of the Thanakians.”
“The Thanakians?!” laughed the Doctor. “I like them well enough, but their most advanced time travel technologies barely reached our most primitive!”
“They DID outpace us in dimensional engineering, Doctor,” replied Rassilon. “But why should I believe that? Let’s just say, Miss Tarae, your arrival and willingness to help is a little…convenient.”
“Oh, come now, Rassilon!” cackled Miss Tarae. “We’re all Prydonians here! We need to make Gallifrey-!”
“Don’t!” snapped the Doctor. “…Just don’t.”
“…Well, now you force a confession from me,” grumbled Miss Tarae. “The truth is that I offered them sanctuary as this world was allegedly still dead.”
“On what grounds?!” protested Rassilon.
“The Thanakians are losing a war,” replied Miss Tarae. “A war against the Rutan Host.”
“The Rutans?!” asked the Doctor. “But they’re still engaged in that interminable war with the Sontarans!”
“War has defined their culture much like it has the Sontarans,” remarked Rassilon.
Susan had to sit down when she got the story. It was a lot to take in. “…Grandfather…” she muttered.
“I know it’s a lot,” soothed Amy. “I still haven’t figured her out.”
“…I have to admit, I didn’t expect the Doctor to be some sort of chosen one,” remarked Lurra Rus.
“Grandfather always poo-poo’s the idea,” said Susan.
“That hasn’t changed,” replied Amy. Susan breathed a sigh of relief.
“Well, so, that’s us all caught up to Gallifrey’s present,” declared Susan, “let’s go see what they’re up to.” The three headed up to the Doctor and her group.
“I sympathize with the Thanakians’ plight,” said Rassilon, “and you DID invite them, so that DOES satisfy my recent edict, but we’re not in a state to accept refugees!”
“If I heard what Amy said correctly,” interjected Susan, “the current state of Gallifrey was a mess YOU, Miss Tarae, had caused!”
“You heard her correctly, my dear,” replied the Doctor.
“Did she tell you about what the Doctor is, Miss Foreman?” asked Miss Tarae.
“She has, but finishing what the Daleks started wasn’t the way to go!” hissed Susan.
“In any event,” said Rassilon, “like I used to be, you’re just a tyrant, Miss Tarae. We need a proper politician, a President of the High Council of Time Lords and while the Doctor HAS shown me what proper morals are, she’s a terrible politician. Her running away from being the Lord President is proof enough.”
“…While true, you didn’t need to go THAT hard!” grumbled the Doctor.
“So who are you retrieving, if not electing any of us?” asked Miss Tarae.
“I presume you’re familiar with Lord President Romanadvoratrelundar?” quizzed Rassilon.
“That weak-willed imbecile?!” snarled Miss Tarae. “She’s the one that sent me to Skaro to stand trial in the first place! She’s the one who signed my death warrant!”
“A death warrant YOU circumvented,” reminded the Doctor. “But I do have to agree, Romana is one of the High Council’s better Presidents. She’ll be able to look at this objectively.”
“Will you need my help, Grandfather?” asked Susan.
“I could use your mathematics skills to check our work, if you don’t mind,” replied the Doctor.
“Well, what about me?!” asked Miss Tarae.
“YOU,” declared the Doctor as she shoved Miss Tarae out of the room, “can wait outside!” She then shut the door. “Amy, could you stand guard?”
“Will do!” chuckled Amy as she summoned her hammer.
“…How is she-?” Susan asked Rassilon.
“Not even your grandfather has figured it out,” replied Rassilon. “And she’s known Miss Rose longer than I have.”
“If Miss Rose can teach Grandfather how to maintain long-term relationships!” muttered Susan.
“OI!” protested the Doctor.
“All right, let’s not get bogged down by who’s terrible with what kind of relationship,” said Rassilon. “Let’s just focus on getting Romana and all that knowledge with her out of that pocket dimension. Let me just make sure I recall how to access it correctly.” She keyed in some figures. “…Aha! That’s it! Doctor, prepare the flux feedback generators. Make sure they stabilize at 4.7.”
“Give me the hard job of stabilizing flux, huh?” chuckled the Doctor.
“Grandfather, that’s supposed to be division,” corrected Susan.
“Oh! So it is!” said the Doctor.
“Miss Rus, how fares the loop engine?” asked Rassilon.
“Climbing to 8.0,” replied Lurra Rus.
“Tell me when it reaches 14.0,” directed Rassilon.
“Still climbing,” reported Lurra Rus. “9.0. 10.0. 11.0. …11.7?”
“That’s a normal variance,” assured Rassilon.
“12.4,” continued Lurra Rus. “…13.7. …Maintaining 13.7. …14.0! NOW!” Rassilon then switched on the Time Scoop and everyone awaited the results. The triangular shape appeared again, then dissipated into a woman with African features. Outside the Time Scoop, piles of books appeared.
“Retrieval complete!” cheered Rassilon. “Madame President, are you all right?”
“Romana? A new bit of cosmetics?” asked the Doctor.
“…May I ask which of you is the Lord President Eternal?” asked the woman, Romana. Rassilon winced.
“Erm, that would be me, Lord President Romana,” she admitted. “Or, at least, that WAS my ti-!” Romana then punched Rassilon square in the nose. Rassilon fell to the floor, clutching her face and crying out in pain.
“Couldn’t you have waited until later?!” protested the Doctor.
“Trust me, she has another one coming,” replied Romana. “…You sound familiar.”
“Romana, it’s me! You know, Princess Astra? You regenerated into her? France? E-Space?”
“Doctor?!” yelped Romana as a smile crossed her face. “Oh, thank goodness!” She then hugged the Doctor. “Still got that quaint Type 40 working?”
“Kind of says something about that class of TARDIS,” interjected Susan, “when it managed to survive all sorts of things, even the loss of Gallifrey.”
“…Oh, that’s right! You’re the Doctor’s granddaughter!” recalled Romana. “She talked about you when I traveled with her, or rather HIM.”
“I’d love to reminisce,” said the Doctor, “but we DO have a matter of some delicacy. Amy, you can let her in now.”
“Right!” replied Amy. She opened the door. “Your presence is required!” she said to Miss Tarae in mock-politeness.
“How kind,” muttered Miss Tarae.
“All right, let me just warn you, Romana,” said the Doctor. “Miss Tarae right there is actually the Master.”
“Madame President,” greeted Miss Tarae.
“…Charmed,” replied Romana.
“Now, let’s all have a nice telepathic conference on our predicament, hm?” suggested the Doctor as she helped Rassilon up.
“All right,” said Romana. “Contact.”
“Contact,” replied Rassilon.
“Contact,” said Susan.
“Contact,” said the Doctor.
“Contact,” finished Miss Tarae. The five Time Lords shut their eyes and concentrated.
“A telepathic-?” asked Lurra Rus.
“It’s a quick way for Time Lords to fill one another in on what’s going on,” explained Amy. It took a while, considering the amount of Time Lords and details, but, eventually, the telepathic conference ended.
“As I said,” remarked Rassilon, “I sympathize with the Thanakians’ plight, but we’re not in a position to accept refugees.”
“Ordinarily, I’d agree with you,” replied Romana, “but consider the reputation we’d build if we accepted allies.”
“Romana, wait a minute,” protested the Doctor, “Miss Tarae here is the one that brought them here and most likely has an ulterior motive for that!”
“You wound me, Doctor,” said Miss Tarae.
“I’ve known you since the Academy.”
“Might I make a suggestion?” offered Susan. “Let’s hear out what the Thanakian Ambassador has to say.”
“Susan’s quite right,” agreed Romana. “Thanakian ships always have at least one ambassador on board.”
“Well, their diplomatic skills ARE the finest in the galaxy,” recalled the Doctor.
“Which galaxy?” asked Lurra Rus.
“Mutter’s Spiral,” replied Rassilon. “What the humans call the Milky Way.”
“…Okay, when this is over, I gotta learn how many names that galaxy has from all the species that live in it.”
“In any event, unless Miss Tarae fatally shrunk her-,” said the Doctor.
“Hang on, my TCE is NOT as overused as your Sonic Screwdriver!” protested Miss Tarae.
“It is,” replied Rassilon and Romana.
“Sonic Screwdriver?” asked Susan.
“And the Thanakian Ambassador insisted on staying on the flagship,” continued Miss Tarae.
“Rassilon, do we have communications?” asked Romana.
“We do. That’s how I got the Call through to the Doctor.”
“Then I’m calling the Thanakians,” declared Romana.