One, Two, Three, Four: I Declare a Time War

Romana quickly followed behind the Doctor, keeping her gun raised in case any Dalek puppets made an appearance. Fortunately for them the museum was empty.

Unfortunately for them, the Doctor had a worryingly familiar look on his face. She saw him glance around once, twice, look at her sheepishly.

"You're lost," she told him. It wasn't a question.

"I'm not lost! Im admiring the scenery! The architecture!"

He knew in his hearts of hearts that Romana knew he was lost. But the trick was, as it was an age old one he played often, to not let HER know that.

"Well, fine then smarty britches. You lead the way, since you know so much. you know, that Dalek eyestalk is very fitting."

Romana smiled so widely and so genuinely, it likely lifted a hundred years from her face. The eyestalk jiggled eerily.

"If you insist," she laughed, even though it wasn't really the time for laughter.

She stepped in front of the Doctor, and led him around the TT 68s, down a long corridor filled with pictures of people nobody had any interest in anymore, and out of the museum.

Rassilon nodded to The War Doctor as a loud "BONG!" sounded throughout the console room of the dark and grungy TARDIS. Rassilon watched as his travelling companion opened the door and swiftly ran out, gun in hand. He sighed, taking a deep breath before running from the control room and out into the large corridor they had landed in, crimson robes billowing furiously behind him as he ran after The War Doctor, within minutes Dalek Puppets lurched mechanically into view and fixed them with both their blank shell's eyes and the jet black eyestalks that glowed that horrible, sickly blue. Rassilon tried to control his breathing, still acclimatising to this new body of his for a new age. He made sure to keep The War Doctor in sight as he suddenly felt a surge of power race up his arm, The Gauntlet's method of telling him it was ready.

With a long sweeping motion he caused three of four Puppets to collapse on a molecular level, turning to dust and ash as the two Time-Lords ran past them. "Damn it, I have no idea where we're going...I can't think straight!" He yelled to The War Doctor as a particularly large Dalek Time-Lord Puppet came into view at the end of the long hallway they found themselves running down. It's eye-stalk only half-extended and it's ceremonial cap wildly askew. Rassilon waved his hand in it's direction, The Gauntlet sending a healthy dose of Atom-Uncoupling Z-Neutrino energy it's way and killing it instantly.

"Damn it, I have no idea where we're going... I can't think straight!" Behind him, Rassilon was destroying the Dalek puppets right and left with his gauntlet. For a proud Time Lord actually admitting he needed guidance, he certainly was holding his own against superior numbers.

"Just follow me, Lord President," said the War Doctor. The hall seemed to have been ransacked for something--all the glass of the display cases had been shattered. "Lord President, what technologies were in those cases? Weaponry? Time-traveling devices?" The thought of Daleks with proto-TARDISes made him shudder.

A laser beam shattered one of the still-intact cases behind him. "We need to keep moving. Omega's TARDIS should be down this corridor, then down the one to the left at the third door before the Council Room." As he ran, the War Doctor tried to remember what had happened when the fourth version of himself had converged on Omega's TARDIS. The only thing he could vaguely recall was getting lost with Romana. Typical of his young self.

Pushing through the massive doors and into the graciously tall corridors of the capital building, the Doctor and Romana were immediately hit with swirling plumes of burning flesh and oily metal. The corridor was unusually clean, despite the booming and pounding sounds outside, echoing through the halls. " The daleks must not have gotten this far yet." The Doctor said out loud, without any thought.

Cautiously looking down both ends of the hall, he exited the room and swiftly began to walk down one end of the hall. Passing by rooms with doors high as 6 meters, intricately carved with old circular Gallifreian, slowly began to morph into old high Gallifreian, a sign that they were heading the right way. As the pair slowly approached a massive cross-way hallway, a terrifying sound emerged from around the corner: A deep gravelly voice, synthesized through dalek frequencies.

The Doctor grabbed Romana and pulled her into the nearest room, tenderly slamming the door to all but a crack as to not draw any more attention to themselves than normal. The passerbys struck the Doctor with a massive pang of terror: a flock of special weapons Daleks slowly strode by, heads spinning to observe the doors with pin-point accuracy.

Once Romana had successfully led the Doctor out of the museum and into the capital building, the Doctor remembered where he was and and took the lead. She followed, spending as much time walking backwards as forwards, her sharp blue eyes alert.

So when the Doctor suddenly grabbed her and pulled her into the side room, she nearly screamed. But the mechanical voices of the Daleks stopped any sound from rising. She gripped the Doctor tightly, not even daring to breathe. 20 years of Dalek imprisonment flashed before her eyes as the Dalek stared at the door. It felt to her like it was there for an eternity.

It finally left, but they both knew that didn't mean safety. Romana let out the breath she'd been holding and released her iron grip on the Doctor.

They couldn't use the corridor anymore - that much was obvious. They had to find another way... Romana gave the room a good look. It was a documents storage room. No useful weapons or convenient secret passages... unless...

An crawl space caught Romana's eye. It was large enough that the Doctor would be able to get through.

"Keep watch," she whispered at him, before she climbed on the storage spaces with the silent steps of a cat. She took out her sonic screwdriver, a thin silver and green thing, and loosened the metal covering. She set it down quietly, then whispered back to the Doctor "This way. We can get to Omega's TARDIS through here."

Before waiting to see if he thought this was a good idea (and not really caring if he didn't) Romana climbed into the crawl space on her hands and knees.

((Razzy? It's been a month.))

Rassilon turned his head for a split second, focusing his Gauntlet's energies at a dalek puppet that was still firing at them both, it crumbled into nothingness as the other had done before. He could still hear the distant sounds of laser fire, it was at this moment he decided he would stop attempting to kill the puppets; no use wasting the Gauntlet's powers on such menial tasks after all. He turned back around, seeing The War Doctor had led him into a large, empty room. "Thank the warrior Prydonius they're not guarding this room." he said, with a sigh of relief.

He looked around, unable to notice the younger Doctor and Romana's presence here. This did not worry him however, if the younger Doctor had been killed his straight-faced companion wouldn't be here with him, and if Romana had suffered such a fate...well....every war has it's losses.

"Now we wait, then," the War Doctor said, sharp eyes scanning the room, "until the others get here. It's strange, I don't remember what happened on the way there..." Had the other me finally become the other? Were he and the Doctor no longer one? He shook his head as if to shake the thoughts away. Focus. There are Daleks crawling all over the capital city, maybe even all over Gallifrey. We'd have to exterminate every single Dalek puppet to prevent one insurgent from disabling the secur-

Exterminate.

No.

He turned to Rassilon and spoke to fill the silence. "They should be coming down from that corridor, there. Lord President..." The War Doctor adjusted his grip on the gun. "I'm not entirely sure my predecessor has thoroughly thought our plan through. Once we create the infinite loop of Omega 13, how are we to e - that is, eradicate all the Dalek puppets within the capital? You do realize that's the only option to keep Gallifrey from falling so early in this war." He drummed his fingers a little, as if to practice pulling the gun's trigger in rapidfire succession. "What's to be done?