The Doctor and the Ghostbusters were taken to the Sontaran Battle Sphere. Outside, the Doctor spotted William and Janine. “William!” she called. The Sontarans allowed her to join with him. “Doctor!” replied William. The two hugged. “Doctor, what’s going on?! These creeps know you and apparently Gurast-!” “These creeps, as you so put it,” explained the Doctor, “are called the Sontarans, a belligerent clone species dedicated to war. These particular Sontarans are the 13th Sontaran Space Brigade. …Or rather, that’s their official name. Those that probed deeper into Sontaran Intelligence would know it as the First Sontaran Temporal Operations Brigade. They’re time travelers from the 51st century. …Which begs the question of why you lot would free Gurast at this time in the first place.” “The preservation of history, Doctor,” replied Stregg. “You of all people should know that if certain events didn’t happen, the web of time would unravel.” “What bargain did you strike with Gurast anyways?” “Come now, Doctor. Your people’s Cardinal Ollistra didn’t tell the Daleks her strategies and neither did the Dalek Time Strategist tell the Time Lords his own.” “Enough prattle!” hissed Gurast. “Doctor, was it?” “That’s me,” replied the Doctor. Gurast scoffed. “Why you Time Lords insist on being addressed by titles, I’ll never understand. …I HAD hoped to destroy you all myself, but I heard rumors that Gallifrey already fell.” “…I hate to have to confirm those rumors.” Gurast laughed at the Doctor’s admission. “Then the Sontarans spoke true! You ARE the last of the Time Lords!” “The last?” asked William. “Doctor, what’s-?!” “When we’re safer, William,” replied the Doctor. “Gurast, what can the Sontarans offer you?” “Oh, come, come, Doctor,” chuckled Gurast. “Surely you, of all people, know how warlike the Sontarans are! Their war with the Rutans is so delicious!” “100,000 years, from Stregg’s standpoint. One hundred thousand years of bloodshed and for what?!” “For victory!” replied Stregg. “Sontar HA! Sontar HA! Sontar HA!” The Sontarans took up the chant. The Doctor rolled her eyes at that. “Tell me, what’s the point?” she asked. The Sontarans stopped as Stregg looked at her like she sprouted another head. “…You’re a veteran of the greatest war in all of time and space,” he said, “and you seriously ask what the point of war is?” “You’re talking as if war is all you guys know!” protested William. “Silence, prisoner!” barked Stregg. “Silence yourself!” retorted William. “I’ve never met a more useless society! Everything wrong with my own gender’s cultural expectations across the planet, that’s what you guys personify!” “BE QUIET!” shouted Gurast. The air chilled. Gurast then drew in a breath to calm herself. “…Stregg, you said that your temporal expertise is good, but not at the level of a Time Lord’s, yes?” “That is correct,” replied Stregg. “…Perhaps the Doctor CAN prove useful!” “In what way?” asked the Doctor. “A little experiment we’re running,” answered Gurast. “We’re trying to genetically alter a person to be immune to the ravages of time and the warping effects of spectral energy.” “What?!” yelped Egon after a while. “Madam, you can’t do that! The body would detonate if too much spectral stress is on it!” “And all things need to decompose,” said the Doctor. “This is inhuman!” “The only humans here are the Ghostbusters, their receptionist, and your pet human, Doctor,” chuckled Gurast. “And thank you for volunteering your team, Dr. Spengler. I could use some help from spectral specialists.” “Well, I won’t do it!” declared the Doctor. “So there!” “…Very well,” mused Stregg as he aimed his rifle at William and Janine. “WAIT!” yelped the Doctor and the Ghostbusters. “It’s a simple choice, Doctor,” remarked Gurast. “You and the Ghostbusters assist us in our experiment, or people start dying, starting with William and Janine.” “…Very well,” grunted the Doctor. “Thanks a heap, Egon,” snarked Peter. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Doctor and the Ghostbusters were taken to the lab while William and Janine were taken to the holding cells. The Doctor looked over the equipment. “Very intricate,” she said. “My batch brother, Strev,” said Stregg, “will welcome the assistance.” His batch brother then entered the lab. “Ah, here he is!” “Which one is the Doctor?” asked the new arrival, Strev. “That would be me,” replied the Doctor. “Am I correct in assuming you’re Strev the Knowledge Bringer? The greatest mind Sontar has ever produced?” “You would be correct,” confirmed Strev. “And these are…?” he gestured to the Ghostbusters. “I’m Dr. Egon Spengler,” introduced Egon. “And this is Dr. Ray Stanz, Dr. Peter Venkman, and Mr. Winston Zeddemore.” “Ah! A plethora of scientists! …But what does Mr. Zeddemore do?” “I’m the mechanic for the Ghostbusters,” replied Winston. “An engineer! The best friend of a scientist! Perfect!” “I’m not exactly looking to be YOUR best friend!” “Ah, you wound me, Mr. Zeddemore!” exaggerated Strev. “But you shall appreciate all that we’re doing here…in time!” He chuckled. “Just a little time travel humor.” The Doctor looked over the notes and recordings Strev made. She had to admit, they were detailed, despite using live, unwilling subjects. Egon and Ray looked over the notes and recordings as well, wincing all the while. “So we know that temporal and spectral immunity,” remarked the Doctor, “can only be produced by an atypical spatio-temporal reaction?” “Empirical evidence,” replied Strev, “indicates that the subject would need to be genetically programmed to be able to naturally produce that effect.” “Double blind analysis?” asked Egon. “Naturally,” confirmed Strev. “The results thus far are proving, however, that I don’t exactly know the correct reaction. My initial theory was disproven after a few experiments, so I ran the others to see if I can find a way to reproduce such an effect.” “But the latest attempt resulted in immediate decomposition after the bombardment of temporal and spectral energy,” remarked the Doctor. “Regrettably, yes,” sighed Strev. “Perhaps I need a way to introduce the energies at different times.” “Judging by the way you’ve been using the spectral and temporal energies,” said Ray, “it looks like you’re trying for a balance between the two.” “A balance? Therein lies the problem,” realized the Doctor. “Temporal energy is naturally imbalanced against spectral energy 52 to 1 against in order to make sure that things pass into the afterlife naturally.” “So you’re saying that my experiments need to account for that?” asked Strev. He stroked his chin. “…It will require rewiring and recalibration, but it could be possible. I’ll just need help on flux comparative maintenance.” “Yeah, sure, we can do that,” replied Peter. “The DOCTOR can do that,” snapped Strev. “You lot calibrate the ectoplasmic relays!” “…Well, you gotta admit, he knows our scientific strengths,” remarked Ray as everyone got to work. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In the holding cells, William’s mind raced. He couldn’t depend on the Doctor for a rescue attempt. He examined the cell walls for any sort of access point. A grate, a hidden switch, maybe even wiring so he could mess with it. …No dice, Sontaran cells were too well made against escape attempts. …He couldn’t believe he was gonna try this, but he had no choice. He collapsed and clutched his stomach. “ERGH! MY STOMACH!” he called. Janine rolled her eyes, but played along. “Guard!” she called. “Help! My friend’s sick!” The guard pulled out his comms unit. “Medical team to Cell Block A, Section 4, Cell 2,” he said. “Medical emergency-.” “Never mind!” complained William as he dropped the act. “Belay that. Just a pathetic escape attempt,” said the guard. “So how often did that happen?” asked Janine as the guard hung up. “Let’s just say the number of times a prisoner DIDN’T try what you two did is more easier to compre…” The guard stopped when he saw something. He pulled out his comms again. “Security Chief, come in,” he said. “Trooper!” replied another voice. “Be advised! A Focused, Non-Terminal Repeating Phantasm has entered the battle sphere!” “You mean the Class 5 Full Roaming Vapor?” asked the guard. “It’s right here, Sir. It’s looking at me.” “Class 5…Slimer!” whispered Janine. “So you can see how ugly it is, Trooper?” asked the Security Chief. “He heard that, Sir,” replied the guard. “Stand your ground, Trooper!” ordered the Security Chief. “It won’t hurt you!” William and Janine couldn’t see Slimer, but they could hear him shouting his usual noises as he flew towards the screaming guard. The guard fired, but Slimer went right through him, knocking him over and leaving slime all over him. Slimer doubled-back to the cell and saw Janine and William. “Good work, Slimer!” said Janine. “Now see if you can open the door!” Slimer looked at the door lock and babbled in a panic. He pointed to his hand and the door lock. “…Wait a minute,” guessed William, “it’s based on three fingered hands?” Slimer nodded. “Can’t you do like this?” He made a basic Sontaran shaped hand with his own fingers by keeping his pointer and middle finger together as well as his ring and pinky in their own group. Slimer blinked, then face-palmed because the idea was so obvious. He then shaped his hand like a Sontaran’s and put it to the door lock. The door opened! “Good job, Slimer!” praised William. “Now let’s get out of here before-!” The alarm then sounded. “Prisoner escape!” warned the guard into his comms. “Prisoner-!” The guard had his back to the prisoners, so William could see the probic vent on the back of the guard’s neck. He saw a mallet and hit it onto the vent, knocking the Sontaran out. Unfortunately, Sontarans of the 51st century are quicker to respond to prisoner escape attempts than those of the 20th Century! Laser fire erupted from one end of the corridor. “This way!” called William. He, Janine, and Slimer ran from the guards.