When Skippy had given us our mission to Traken, sapphire and I had no idea wheat was going to occur on Bruce, and, therefor, thought little about it.
No, in fact, we were quite happy to have some alone time, as we hadn't had any since before having to appear in court on Zenobia Station.
So, I set the trans-temporal coordinates to Traken at the time of Consul Tremas and set the trip to give us a few years of non-time to enjoy each others...company.
In the interest of speeding my tale along, the intervening decade or so of naked debauchery shall be skipped and I will move straight on to my Time Travel Capsule materializing in the grove on Traken.
The assigned mission went perfectly smoothly and I got the samples of the fungus Skippy wanted. Before we left, sapphire decided she wanted to get some flowers to put in the library of my TARDIS, so she went back out.
Unfortunately, no sooner had she stepped out of the TARDIS, than the cloister bell began tolling.
Before she could even turn, the doors slammed shut and the TARDIS dematerialized, initiating Emergency Protocol One, sending me back through the vortex, toward Bruce... Alone.
In the Traken grove, however, sapphire was able to determine what had happened.
In the exact spot my TARDIS had once stood, a new TARDIS, in the form of a 1960's era London police box materialized. Taking cover, sapphire proceeded to observe the events of the next few days, involving the Melkur, the Doctor, Adric, Tremas and the Keeper of Traken. Her hope was to hitch a ride with the Doctor until she could get back to Bruce.
During these events, sapphire witnessed a decayed and burned idividual repeatedly emerge from the Melkur, which lead her to realize it was, in fact, a Gallifreyan TTC, as well.
During an apparent confrontation inside of it, she witenessed the Doctror actually break his way out, leading her to realize it was her chance.
Sneaking into the strange Time Travel Capsule, she found herself almost immediately lost and confused as to the layout of this TARDIS. She found herself, eventually, in the holding cells, where, in one, poorly lit cell, she heard a voice singing in the dark.
"Hello?" She said. At first, the only response was something to do with homosexual Inuits.
"Hello?" sapphire again asked.
"Oh! Hi!" came an unexpectedly cheery voice from within the cell.
"Who are you, sweetheart?" sapphire inquired.
The response, unfortunately, was somewhat incomprehensible, as the circuits of the Time Travel Capsule they were in had become damaged, thereby limiting the translation function.
Without missing a beat, however, sapphire responded, "Okay, sweetheart. I'm sapphire. Do you want me to let you out of there?"
The stranger nodded and sapphire released the latch.
Out walked a ginger woman, slightly smaller than sapphire. She wore typically Trakenite clothing, though clearly muddied and worn. Though clearly having been a prisoner, her green eyes were rather bright5 and cheerful. Frankly, the overall effect, I'm told, gave sapphire the feeling of someone who, having been a prisoner for an extended period of time, decided to just tell reality to hang itself and went on to try and force the Whole Kind of General Mish-Mash to become something closer to a children's television programme just to have something interesting to watch.
The two of them left the holding cells, sapphire trying to walk cautiously and the Trakenite, well, SKIPPING, toward the console room of this TARDIS. sapphire, having watched Lestor and me pilot our TARDISes many times, was quite capable of doing so, herself, so she knew this would be her ticket back to Bruce.
Unfortunately, upon reaching the console, however, sapphire became somewhat destraught by the fact that the Doctor's rather dramatic exit damaged the capsule, fusing it's trans-temporal coordinates to the 100 Billion, and setting the ship to then transform itself into marshmallow immediately upon rematerialization.
This seemed to be a hopeless issue, so sapphire started looking for anything helpful. All she found was a manky fob watch.
Fortunately, at this point, the two heard the sound of a TARDIS engine materializsing outside. So they left.
Upon reaching the grove again, they were greeted by a newly materialized TARDIS in the form of a Terran ice cream van. When the doors openned, a Time Lord with salt and pepper hair emerged in a black waistcoat and striped trousers. His dark eyes were cold and viscious. He walked directly up to sapphire and her new Trakenite associate.
"I am The Master and you will ob...WHOOF!"
This was all he got out as sapphire swiftly kicked him in the crotch and ran past him with her new friend, stealing his TARDIS on the way.
As I previously recounted, the two TARDISes arrived on Bruce at the same time. I won't bore you all with the whole "joyous reunion" bit (but it DID involve handcuffs, lime jelly and the use of an anti-grav chamber.)
After a few hours, we realized we were being watched by sapphire's new Trakenite friend.
In a cheerful voice, she asked, "Can I play, too?"
Several hours after, we decided, since sapphire was sapphire, the ginger Trakenite with the green eyes was now going to be emerald.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Sontaran Love
Shortly after the discovery of Shithead in my TARDIS, Skippy called us all out to a common meeting area on Bruce.
This meeting area was designed almost like a Terran holiday camp, with recreation areas for tennis, bocce, and things of that nature, along with, unsurprisingly, a replicator stocked with recipes for nearly every known libation in the Whole Kind of General Mish-Mash.
"Oi," Skippy began, "I've got a mission for The Madman and sapphire. You two need to go to Traken in the time of Tremas."
"Okay, What do you need us to do?" I asked.
"There, in the grove, you will find a culture of red-grey fungus. It's native only to the Traken Grove. I need you to take a sample of this fungus."
"Why? What significance does it have to stopping Beiber?" sapphire asked.
"Nothing, really. It is merely the most potent hallucinogen in the Whole Kind of General Mish-Mash. I think it would be splendid to have some here."
And so, sapphire and I set off. The story of what transpired on that mission will be told at some point in the relative future (or possibly past).
It is for that reason, my details of what transpired next on Bruce are a bit spotty.
Shortly after we dematerialized, a ship of Sontaran origin landed on Bruce. The hatchway opened and out came a single, short, stocky Sontaran in full (albeit mismatched) armour.
"I am Ensign Stoo of the 2342nd Sontaran Battle Fleet. By right of conquest, I claim this world in the name of Sontar!"
"I'm not familiar with that battle fleet," Lestor said to the small, belligerent creature.
"Well," replied Stoo, noticeably inflated, "To be fair, I AM the 2342nd Sontaran Battle Fleet."
Sontarans are well known for their belief in war above all things and pride themselves on their military strategies and tactics. They have a strict devotion to military discipline and heirarchy.
What is less well known is their penchant for sending some lesser skilled and completely undesirable (and often completely THICK) Sontarans off on their own in missions using pre-programmed flight computers sending out into uninhabited space to drift aimlessly, never meeting another sentient life form, thereby not sullying the Sontaran's reputation for warfare, nor actually getting in the way in a real battle. This, of course, explains Stoo.
"Right," Tristan said, in tremendous amusment of the situation, "Tell you what: we're not armed, so we can't have an actual fight here. But I do propose a challenge. If you want to claim this planet for the glory of Sontar, then you need to beat... Let's say Rowan here... in a contest of stamina, speed and marksmanship. We call it 'Tennis'."
"Accepted."
I must, at this time, explain that Rowan, while very good at being a psy-reader of Time Travel Capsules, is not, to be fair, the most skilled tennis player in any history.
Even still, being the most sober of those remaining on Bruce, she was the best choice.
The game, I'm told, was quite exciting and rather close, though, the lack of skill of both parties did lead to the accidental creation of a vast ocean forming a mere 14 meters from the meeting area (the actual sequence of events leading to that ocean's creation is so odd and random, even I cannot fully grasp them, but I'm told it included an unexpected alteration of reality, changing both players, temporarily, into 8 foot bologna sandwiches.
In the end, however, Rowan defeated the miniscule Sontaran.
In a show of sportsmanship, she attempted to leap over the net.
That is where everything went a bit wrong.
Rowan's foot caught on the net, causing her to crash headlong into Stoo, sending him toppling backwards, smashing his exposed probic vent on the court with such force, his head quite literally EXPLODED. This, of course killed Stoo.
It also, unfortunately, killed Rowan, sending her into a regeneration cycle.
At this exact moment, my own TTC, and sapphire's newly comondeered one (a circumstance which shall be explained in the future) both materialized.
The force of the explosion sent my TTC careening into Nereid, which cause an instant, albeit, short-lived, psy-link between the two capsules.
As sapphire and I exited to find out what the Belgium was happening, Everyone was scrambling, trying to get Rowan into Nereid for her regeneration, as it's always more helpful to regenrate within the boundries of one's TARDIS.
Understand, I cannot in any way prove my theor on what happened next.
HOWEVER
It appears that the psy-link between the two TARDISes allowed my capsule to convince Nereid to have a more active role in Rowan's regeneration.
Nereid dematerialized and promptly rematerialized at the edge of the newly formed ocean. After several minutes, her doors openned and thousands of gallons of water came rushing out of the Time Travel Capsule, spilling the newly regenerated Rowan into the ocean with it.
For the most part, Rowan maintained her previous incarnation's appearance.
However, she didn't have legs.
In their place, she had a long, piscean tail, complete with fins, flippers and flukes, making her a Mer-Time Lady.
And I could swear, I heard my TARDIS laughing.
This meeting area was designed almost like a Terran holiday camp, with recreation areas for tennis, bocce, and things of that nature, along with, unsurprisingly, a replicator stocked with recipes for nearly every known libation in the Whole Kind of General Mish-Mash.
"Oi," Skippy began, "I've got a mission for The Madman and sapphire. You two need to go to Traken in the time of Tremas."
"Okay, What do you need us to do?" I asked.
"There, in the grove, you will find a culture of red-grey fungus. It's native only to the Traken Grove. I need you to take a sample of this fungus."
"Why? What significance does it have to stopping Beiber?" sapphire asked.
"Nothing, really. It is merely the most potent hallucinogen in the Whole Kind of General Mish-Mash. I think it would be splendid to have some here."
And so, sapphire and I set off. The story of what transpired on that mission will be told at some point in the relative future (or possibly past).
It is for that reason, my details of what transpired next on Bruce are a bit spotty.
Shortly after we dematerialized, a ship of Sontaran origin landed on Bruce. The hatchway opened and out came a single, short, stocky Sontaran in full (albeit mismatched) armour.
"I am Ensign Stoo of the 2342nd Sontaran Battle Fleet. By right of conquest, I claim this world in the name of Sontar!"
"I'm not familiar with that battle fleet," Lestor said to the small, belligerent creature.
"Well," replied Stoo, noticeably inflated, "To be fair, I AM the 2342nd Sontaran Battle Fleet."
Sontarans are well known for their belief in war above all things and pride themselves on their military strategies and tactics. They have a strict devotion to military discipline and heirarchy.
What is less well known is their penchant for sending some lesser skilled and completely undesirable (and often completely THICK) Sontarans off on their own in missions using pre-programmed flight computers sending out into uninhabited space to drift aimlessly, never meeting another sentient life form, thereby not sullying the Sontaran's reputation for warfare, nor actually getting in the way in a real battle. This, of course, explains Stoo.
"Right," Tristan said, in tremendous amusment of the situation, "Tell you what: we're not armed, so we can't have an actual fight here. But I do propose a challenge. If you want to claim this planet for the glory of Sontar, then you need to beat... Let's say Rowan here... in a contest of stamina, speed and marksmanship. We call it 'Tennis'."
"Accepted."
I must, at this time, explain that Rowan, while very good at being a psy-reader of Time Travel Capsules, is not, to be fair, the most skilled tennis player in any history.
Even still, being the most sober of those remaining on Bruce, she was the best choice.
The game, I'm told, was quite exciting and rather close, though, the lack of skill of both parties did lead to the accidental creation of a vast ocean forming a mere 14 meters from the meeting area (the actual sequence of events leading to that ocean's creation is so odd and random, even I cannot fully grasp them, but I'm told it included an unexpected alteration of reality, changing both players, temporarily, into 8 foot bologna sandwiches.
In the end, however, Rowan defeated the miniscule Sontaran.
In a show of sportsmanship, she attempted to leap over the net.
That is where everything went a bit wrong.
Rowan's foot caught on the net, causing her to crash headlong into Stoo, sending him toppling backwards, smashing his exposed probic vent on the court with such force, his head quite literally EXPLODED. This, of course killed Stoo.
It also, unfortunately, killed Rowan, sending her into a regeneration cycle.
At this exact moment, my own TTC, and sapphire's newly comondeered one (a circumstance which shall be explained in the future) both materialized.
The force of the explosion sent my TTC careening into Nereid, which cause an instant, albeit, short-lived, psy-link between the two capsules.
As sapphire and I exited to find out what the Belgium was happening, Everyone was scrambling, trying to get Rowan into Nereid for her regeneration, as it's always more helpful to regenrate within the boundries of one's TARDIS.
Understand, I cannot in any way prove my theor on what happened next.
HOWEVER
It appears that the psy-link between the two TARDISes allowed my capsule to convince Nereid to have a more active role in Rowan's regeneration.
Nereid dematerialized and promptly rematerialized at the edge of the newly formed ocean. After several minutes, her doors openned and thousands of gallons of water came rushing out of the Time Travel Capsule, spilling the newly regenerated Rowan into the ocean with it.
For the most part, Rowan maintained her previous incarnation's appearance.
However, she didn't have legs.
In their place, she had a long, piscean tail, complete with fins, flippers and flukes, making her a Mer-Time Lady.
And I could swear, I heard my TARDIS laughing.
Important Information Regarding Gallifreyan Time Travel Capsules
At this time in my ramblings, I find it necessary to provide a small, educational side-bar in regards to Gallifreyan Time Travel Capsules.
As most of you likely know, even the oldest TTCs are, at least, partly organic machines. That said, while all TARDISes can be said to be alive, anything more advanced than the type 23 can be said to be sentient. Anything beyond the type 30 can be said to possess a unique personality.
Those of you familiar with artificial intelligence will, at this point, assume I mean some kind of programmed algorithms designed to simulate the intellectual and (assuming the algorithms are sophisticated enough) emotions of a living being.
You are incorrect.
In fact, it was attempted, early in the mass production of the types 31 and 32 to SUPPRESS the personalities and intelligence of the capsules. methods of doing this included altering the Artron energies infused into the capsules, actual physical alterations of the consoles, themselves, and finally, in a rather desperate attempt, forcing the TARDISes to watch the entire run of a Terran television programme called Charles in Charge.
These efforts lead to TARDISes which still possessed personalities, but said personalities were very boring and stupid.
Finally, as of the type 35, the Time Lords decided to hang it and just let them have their personalities.
The above review is to allow a better understanding of the personality descriptions of the Time Travel Capsules possessed by the Killing Time Alliance.
It is said that the personality of a TARDIS will either reflect or compliment the personality of the Time Lord or Time Lady piloting it. Viewing the collection of beings on Bruce, that can be said to be the case.
My own TTC (as I've previously stated, a heavily modified Type 45 from an alternate universe) can best be described as "random". She clearly possesses a sense of humor, but one that she, alone, appreciates. She seems to vary her intent and attitude at various times for no reason and, indeed, seems to periodically forget what she is and what she is doing.
Her interior is as scattered as her mind, with labyrinthine rooms of an eclectic nature. There is no over-arching style to her internal architecture, with some rooms resembling those of ancient Rome and others the far-flung future of Dolos VII (a unique world where the entirety of their architecture and technology is derived from ear wax)
While completely mad, my TARDIS is likely the most sociable one of the lot.
It is ultimately useless to describe the personalities of each of the TARDISes Lestor has possessed. However, it should be noted that his continual upgrading, changing and exchanging TTCs has given him a bit of a...reputation...among Time Travel Capsules.
Sabrae's TARDIS is somewhat enigmatic. The entire interior consists of ordered and matching rooms and corridors, however, they seem to shift at random, so at any given time, a single door can access her bestiary, her library, her pool or the area inhabited by the equally mysterious (and frankly terrifying) Charlie. Regardless, Sabrae has the ability to find her way about the capsule unerringly, while any other living being (with the possible exception of Shithead, but even that is in question) would be hopelessly lost after moving past the primary console room.
Little is actually known about Tristan's TARDIS save three basic facts: First, it loves to party. Second, it is often drunk and Third, it has a nearly addicted penchant for tacos.
This brings us to the final TARDIS of Killing Time... Rowan's.
Rowan's TTC is the only one of our group which claims a name. She is called Nereid. Nereid possesses a somewhat naive personality by general description (though she's not so much naive as simply uninterested in normal social conventions). She does, however, have a bit of a cheeky sense of humor.
Nereid also possesses a bit of an over trusting nature when it comes to the advice of other TARDISes. This includes clearly psychotic TTCs, such as my own.
The above information must be completely understood in order for the events of the soon to be described tennis match to be comprehended properly.
As most of you likely know, even the oldest TTCs are, at least, partly organic machines. That said, while all TARDISes can be said to be alive, anything more advanced than the type 23 can be said to be sentient. Anything beyond the type 30 can be said to possess a unique personality.
Those of you familiar with artificial intelligence will, at this point, assume I mean some kind of programmed algorithms designed to simulate the intellectual and (assuming the algorithms are sophisticated enough) emotions of a living being.
You are incorrect.
In fact, it was attempted, early in the mass production of the types 31 and 32 to SUPPRESS the personalities and intelligence of the capsules. methods of doing this included altering the Artron energies infused into the capsules, actual physical alterations of the consoles, themselves, and finally, in a rather desperate attempt, forcing the TARDISes to watch the entire run of a Terran television programme called Charles in Charge.
These efforts lead to TARDISes which still possessed personalities, but said personalities were very boring and stupid.
Finally, as of the type 35, the Time Lords decided to hang it and just let them have their personalities.
The above review is to allow a better understanding of the personality descriptions of the Time Travel Capsules possessed by the Killing Time Alliance.
It is said that the personality of a TARDIS will either reflect or compliment the personality of the Time Lord or Time Lady piloting it. Viewing the collection of beings on Bruce, that can be said to be the case.
My own TTC (as I've previously stated, a heavily modified Type 45 from an alternate universe) can best be described as "random". She clearly possesses a sense of humor, but one that she, alone, appreciates. She seems to vary her intent and attitude at various times for no reason and, indeed, seems to periodically forget what she is and what she is doing.
Her interior is as scattered as her mind, with labyrinthine rooms of an eclectic nature. There is no over-arching style to her internal architecture, with some rooms resembling those of ancient Rome and others the far-flung future of Dolos VII (a unique world where the entirety of their architecture and technology is derived from ear wax)
While completely mad, my TARDIS is likely the most sociable one of the lot.
It is ultimately useless to describe the personalities of each of the TARDISes Lestor has possessed. However, it should be noted that his continual upgrading, changing and exchanging TTCs has given him a bit of a...reputation...among Time Travel Capsules.
Sabrae's TARDIS is somewhat enigmatic. The entire interior consists of ordered and matching rooms and corridors, however, they seem to shift at random, so at any given time, a single door can access her bestiary, her library, her pool or the area inhabited by the equally mysterious (and frankly terrifying) Charlie. Regardless, Sabrae has the ability to find her way about the capsule unerringly, while any other living being (with the possible exception of Shithead, but even that is in question) would be hopelessly lost after moving past the primary console room.
Little is actually known about Tristan's TARDIS save three basic facts: First, it loves to party. Second, it is often drunk and Third, it has a nearly addicted penchant for tacos.
This brings us to the final TARDIS of Killing Time... Rowan's.
Rowan's TTC is the only one of our group which claims a name. She is called Nereid. Nereid possesses a somewhat naive personality by general description (though she's not so much naive as simply uninterested in normal social conventions). She does, however, have a bit of a cheeky sense of humor.
Nereid also possesses a bit of an over trusting nature when it comes to the advice of other TARDISes. This includes clearly psychotic TTCs, such as my own.
The above information must be completely understood in order for the events of the soon to be described tennis match to be comprehended properly.
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