Thursday

Part 11 - Lost Time

I have been feeling somewhat reflective lately. For eons I lay dormant, deactivated, call it what you will. Everything went dark for me just as the greatest civilization ever borne of our universe began to reach maturity. And I awoke just as it was destroyed.


That goes far beyond not being fair. The Timelord race kept the peace on a scale unconceivable by most races, let along achievable. I was designed to be an instrumental part of that peace, and yet it all literally passed me by.


And yet I can not help but think that the word “coincidence” and the name Rassilon seldom appear together. How did I end up in the Panoptican being poked and prodded in some lab? Who knew about me and transported me there? And why did the presence of those Timelords not raise me from my slumber, but Phaon did?


Somewhere buried inside my mind are sensor readings and matrix communications from thousands of generations of dormancy. Stored outside of my consciousness somewhere. If I am to rebuild Gallifrey here, then I need to know the details of the one that came before. I need unfettered access to my databanks. And to do that, I need to be a computer again.

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