Tycho walked in a circle around the console, just as the Doctor had been doing. He stared down at all the controls and interfaces, his expression never faltering from that mixture of surprise and confusion. He showed a lot more restraint than he could have. Everybody reacted differently to seeing the TARDIS for the first time, but whatever they felt, most reacted quite strongly. Despite the prominent clanging of the cloister bell in the background, the Doctor stood aside and let him have this moment.

"It's... You said this was a... a time machine?"

"Yep."

Tycho looked up at him.

"And you're... you're an... an alien?"

"I guess I would be to you."

Tycho took a step back. His expression hardened as he gave a suspicious look. Though he didn't draw a weapon, the Doctor was disappointed to note that one of his hands had dropped to his side where the combat knife was sheathed.

"Bullshit. You look just like one of us! Speak our language too! I ain't stupid, Doctor, so tell the truth!"

The Doctor sighed and took a step forward.

"First of all—"

Tycho pulled his shotgun and pointed it right in the Doctor's face. He immediately threw up his arms in surrender, eyes going wide, but he calmed when he looked at Tycho's face. It was just the other man's nerves getting the better of him, not any genuine attempt to harm the Doctor, so he moved slowly as he reached up and grabbed the end of the shotgun.

"First of all..." The Doctor spoke slowly and softly. "...Calm down. Nobody here wants to hurt you."

Gently, he pushed down the shotgun so that it was no longer pointed at him, and reached out to put a hand on the ranger's shoulder. Tycho now looked more embarrassed than afraid.

"And yes, I am an alien. Lots of aliens look like this. Though, strictly speaking, it's more that humans look like time lords than the reverse."

"And speaking English?"

"I know a lot of languages. But even if I didn't, the TARDIS has telepathic translation circuits that do the job for you. I've been speaking Chinese Mandarin for the last ten seconds, and you haven't even noticed."

Tycho blinked at that. The Doctor took a step back, and returned to looking at the monitor.

"But why are you here? Where did you come from? Why is this box so... strange? The size is all off, and there's that bell... In fact, what is that bell? It sounds bad."

He was right. The cloister bell was not getting any less annoying, and it had been sounding for days now. Looking back to Tycho, the Doctor gestured for him to get away and ran over. Tycho wordlessly stepped back, and observed as the Doctor began removing the floor grating where he had been standing.

"It is bad. The TARDIS is in pain. She's not used to this universe. The laws of physics here are ever so slightly different, and it's like a slow acting poison, eroding and eating away at her."

"You talk like the ship's alive," Tycho said with a smirk.

The Doctor just looked back at him. He didn't need to say anything. That glare made Tycho's smile slowly melt away as he began to realise what the look implied.

"...Seriously? Like... really alive?"

"Like I said, she's in pain. This universe's makeup isn't exactly familiar. Not completely toxic, mind. If she had enough exposure then she'd acclimate to this universe's effect. Like measles. Get sick with it once and you never will be again. It's not nice for her, though, and this universe will probably kill her before she can build up that 'immunity,' so to speak. Wouldn't be so bad if we hadn't made such a rough entrance. This is more shock than anything else."

He stroked a hand against the edge of the console.

"Standing still here and soaking it all up isn't helping. If I moved her back and forth in time a bit then she'd adjust better. Stave off the worst of it a little longer, at least."

"Why can't you do that, then?" asked Tycho.

The Doctor ducked down into the crawlspace beneath the grating and began fiddling with some components.

"Some of these parts are broken. Normally, she could use the architectural reconfiguration to repair them herself, but with the reality misalignment in effect, those systems aren't working. She needs replacement parts. And until then, all I've got is a time machine that can't time travel."

He popped back up. Still standing in the small pit, his head came up to Tycho's knees. He leaned against another bit of floor grating and took off his glasses.

"I ended up crashing here in the first place when I tried to make a jump back in time. I was meant to be rescuing some humans that were stuck on an alien mothership. They'd abducted them from a space colony in my universe for experiments. I chased them into this universe to get them back, but I didn't account for the turbulence."

Tycho just smiled and shook his head. "Jesus, man."

"What year is it, by the way?" the Doctor asked.

"You serious? It's 2162. January."

"Mmm. It was 2277 when I entered this universe. I was only trying to go back a few minutes. Then I ended up falling here."

"Yeah, I saw your crash. Came out here in the first place thinking it was a meteorite, but instead I found you. Was going to ask you about it when you woke up, but I thought you'd mention it in your own time if you were involved at all. Gotta say, I didn't expect this..."

The Doctor put both hands on the grating and hoisted himself up out of the hole.

"But if this is 2162, apocalypse or not, there should be some good parts around that I can use to fix up the TARDIS. Just enough to get her working again, then a quick jaunt back in time and forwards again should be all she needs."

"Well... how long do we have?" asked Tycho.

The Doctor sighed.

"Two? Maybe three weeks?"

"What do we need?"

He smiled at that "we," and rushed around to the other side of the console again.

"The navigation is offline, so any attempt to travel will just scramble the controls and throw us anywhere. I can improvise a temporary replacement out of a few routine sensor modules, bits of wiring, and maybe a few terminal circuit boards. It'll be very slapdash for a system this complex, but once the TARDIS makes the jump into this universe's Time Vortex, she should acclimate enough to synthesise some proper replacement parts."

"Any specific kind of wiring?"

"No. Nothing specific. Tearing apart a toaster should be enough. Do you know anywhere around here we can get electronics like that? I didn't see much in Killian's store."

Tycho laughed.

"Finding a working toaster will be a challenge, but you can find plenty of broken ones around... There are certainly plenty of functional terminals in the wasteland, if you know where to look. In the last days before the Great War, RobCo started producing more resilient models. Lots of them you find will be fried, but important people had hardy ones, built to last a thousand years. So any working terminal you do find is usually guaranteed to have interesting stuff on it at least... and top of the range parts."

"So where's important enough to have working terminals then?"

Tycho turned his back to the Doctor and began pacing. He rubbed his chin as he considered the question.

"...The Brotherhood of Steel might have what we need," he mused.

"Who are the Brotherhood of Steel?"

"Descendants of the pre-war military, the way they tell it. Sort of like how the Desert Rangers are descendents of the Texas Rangers. They fancy themselves as knights, and wear these huge suits of armour that make them bulletproof, 'less you got armour-piercing rounds. I've heard that they worship technology, though I don't know how true that is. They're certainly very protective of their tech. But they do trade with the water caravans from the Hub, so they must be willing to part with some of their valuables for the right price."

The Doctor walked over to the pillar where he'd left his coat and threw it back on.

"Then let's make them an offer they can't refuse."

Tycho's introduction to the world of time and space travel was followed by another long walk back towards Junktown. As he explained, the Brotherhood of Steel was a fair distance away, and they had to get more supplies if they wanted to walk all the way out there; it was easily a five day trip on foot.

It was late upon their return. The great metal gates were locked up tight when they arrived, but fortunately for the both of them, Tycho was enough of a familiar presence to warrant opening up. Normally, he explained to the Doctor, people were not allowed into the town at night except in special circumstances. Or if they could sweet talk the guard into it.

Despite the late hour, the Skum Pitt remained open. This, in fact, was its normal business time, according to Tycho. The bar being open during the daytime, like it was when they first drank there, was apparently the exception rather than the rule. And since it happened to be open, Tycho invited his new friend out for another drink. Nothing better to do, the Doctor joined him once more, and the two took their previous place in the corner of the bar. Neal walked by and poured a glass of gin for the Doctor, who looked at it oddly for a moment, before picking it up and nodding to the bartender in thanks.

"So what's it like out there?" Tycho asked. "Among the stars, I mean?"

"Oh, it's... it's great, yeah. Lots of places to go. Sights to see. People to meet. Usually trouble to be found too, but Earth's just the same really."

"Hmm," said Tycho as he took another drink. "You do this alone? Travel the universe in your little ship? Or universes, as the case may be?"

The Doctor leaned against the table and also took a sip.

"Normally? No. Used to travel with people. Mostly humans, but not always."

"Yeah, I'll bet. How old did you say you were? Nine hundred? Must have travelled with a few."

"Loads."

"But not right now?"

The Doctor drew himself up.

"I'm between companions right now," he explained. "It's all good travelling with them for a little while, but they all have to leave in the end. They might have other responsibilities, or find something worth staying for... some hit a breaking point. Some die. Some end up worse. Some get lost where I can't help them back. Some forget me..."

"Must be pretty painful..." said Tycho.

The Doctor looked down at his drink.

"Yeah..."

The Doctor's designated living quarters while staying in Junktown was the hotel room he had woken up in on his first day. Tycho had paid for his room on both previous nights (renting for a night was pretty cheap), and the ranger himself stayed in the same building, just across the hall. This time, he had lent the Doctor a number of bottlecaps to pay for the room himself. Though he hadn't done so with any expectation of repayment, the Doctor still endeavoured to collect some more caps wherever he found them, and pay back the gentleman as thanks for his charity.

The next day, the two of them proceeded to Killian's store. The other man was happy to see the two of them still alive and well after their trip, and asked them how it went.

"Pretty good, Killian, but we're not done yet. Our dear Doctor here has a need to visit the Brotherhood of Steel."

Killian sighed and shook his head again, before crouching down behind the counter to rummage through his supplies.

"Long trip ahead of you," he called from below, as a lone hand reached up and placed a canteen on the table. "Might wanna keep that armour for a while longer, Doc."

In truth, the Doctor really didn't want to. For all the warnings the two men had given him about the dangers lurking in the wasteland, they had yet come across any major trouble on either trip. So far, the armour had served no real purpose except to make the heat even more unbearable. It was bad enough that he was wearing his coat over it all, but at least he actually needed his coat.

"Here ya go."

Killian dumped a number of lunchboxes on the desk, as well as several more water canteens, a sleeping bag, a military ammo box, and a bulky-looking pistol.

"Will that be all?"

Tycho's eyes scanned the pile for a second.

"...Got any pulse slugs or grenades?" he asked.

Killian held up a finger to tell them to wait a moment, and walked over to a shelf along the back wall.

"What do you need those for?" the Doctor whispered.

"We're going to see the Brotherhood of Steel," Tycho replied. "Pulse weapons are effective against their armour. About the only things that are, aside from armour-piercing rounds."

He tapped the ammo box.

"That's what this is."

The Doctor frowned. "Are we expecting a fight?"

"No. But in the wasteland, it never hurts to come prepared. I've never heard of the Brotherhood starting fights without reason, but I've not had any dealings with them before. They're an unknown. I don't like being unprepared. You don't live long in the wasteland unless you have a plan to kill everyone you meet."

Killian returned and dumped a handful of pulse slugs plus a single grenade on the counter.

"All I've got. Sorry."

"It'll do."

From nowhere, the shopkeeper pulled out a giant rucksack, and began stuffing Tycho's purchases into it. The sole exception was the gun, which Tycho took for himself and inspected. After checking that it was unloaded, he looked down the sights and gave it a test fire, pointing at the wall. Seemingly satisfied, he put the safety on, shoved in a clip of the armour-piercing rounds, and holstered it. Then he quickly counted out the caps to pay Killian.

Once he was done, Tycho grabbed the rucksack and slung it over his shoulder.

"A'ight. Looks like we've got everything," he declared. "Let's be on our way, Doc."

"It's not a healthy mentality, you know."

"What?" a tinny voice answered from beneath a green-eyed helmet.

The Doctor and Tycho trekked across the desert together. The desolate, sandy wasteland had given way to a rocky and uneven terrain as they went further west. The sun was still beating down on them, but there was at least more available shade along this route. Tall rock cliffs and large boulders made for decent stopping points, but they frequently had to navigate over hills or through small canyons too. It definitely slowed the journey.

"That 'kill everyone you meet' mindset," the Doctor clarified. "I don't think it's a good attitude. I mean, I'm sure the wasteland is dangerous and all, but you've got to be able to trust some people. Otherwise, how do you ever make friends?"

Tycho closed his eyes and chuckled, not looking in front of him as they continued walking.

"I see. Sorry. I was generalising a bit. It's not so much that you need to be constantly watching everyone and preparing for a fight. That's being paranoid. I just mean that it always helps to be suspicious of strangers. I have plenty of friends, I assure you, Doctor. Killian's a good man. So is Lars. The Vault Dweller and Ian were decent folk as well. Shame you couldn't have met them, really. I think you would have liked them."

"The Brotherhood of Steel sound like they're on the level, though. If they don't have a reputation for starting trouble, don't you think it's paranoid to expect and prepare for trouble?"

"Well..." Tycho paused, and looked over to the Doctor. "Okay, fine. Maybe it is. But I don't feel comfortable walking into a base of heavily equipped guys in invincible armour that I know nothing about. We need some insurance, Doc."

The Doctor sighed and didn't bother arguing any further. The two walked in silence for half a mile further, before Tycho removed his helmet and brought his rucksack around to remove a packet of cigarettes. He lit one and smoked it. The Doctor looked over to him again, and Tycho looked back. Then the ranger's eyes briefly became a little wider.

"Oh, sorry!" he said, holding out the packet. "Did you want one?"

"No thanks."

"You sure? I don't mind if you do."

"Really, I don't smoke... anymore."

"Anymore?" Tycho repeated, putting the cigarettes back in his pocket and arching a brow. "But you used to?"

"Lifetimes ago..." the Doctor said wistfully.

"Heh. You know, I've been trying to quit for years but never managed. What's your secret?"

"I didn't quit. I just didn't feel the need for it anymore after I... changed. Lost the taste for it and never bothered to take it back up. But this is going back centuries now."

"It an alien thing?"

"Yeah. It's an alien thing."

Tycho snorted. "Lucky bastard."

As he said that, a sudden bang rang through the air.

"Jesus!"

Tycho dropped his cigarette and grabbed the Doctor by the scruff of his neck, shoving him forward. As fast as they could, the two ran to a nearby boulder and took cover behind it, the rock being easily big enough to conceal the both of them standing up. The side they were hiding on was exposed to the sun, but the shooter was in the other direction.

"Fuck!" Tycho shouted as he threw his helmet on. "That bastard got the drop on us!"

He quickly removed his rucksack as well, presumably so that he could move more freely without carrying the weight. He threw it over to the Doctor, who caught it and slung it over his own shoulder. Then he pulled out his shotgun and checked that it was loaded.

"You see what I mean?" Tycho's voice had regained the tinny quality given by the helmet. "This goddamn wasteland!"

The Doctor had his back to the boulder, and crouched on the floor. For his part, he wasn't afraid, but the gunshot had definitely set him on edge.

"Who is it? Who's shooting at us?"

"Raiders, probably! Not the usual jokers though. That was a sniper round. Whoever this is, they at least have better equipment than the standard fare."

"Not quiet, though," the Doctor observed.

"Snipers don't always have to be stealthy. And raiders aren't known for their subtlety."

Tycho stepped towards the edge of their cover and poked his head out for a split second, before pulling it back.

"She's seen me."

"She?"

"Crazy-looking girl with a Mohawk and a high power rifle. Definitely a raider. The armour's cobbled-together crap, and she's pretty filthy. Might be from one of the tribes."

"What tribes?"

"Raider tribes. There's three. Jackals, Khans, and Vipers. She's probably with one of them. My money's on Jackals. Khan territory is far from here, and the Vipers are pretty scarce nowadays since the Brotherhood wiped the floor with them a generation back. Then again, I heard the Shrine is pretty close to Junktown..."

Another shot cracked. The raider was shooting at them still, but she couldn't hit them while they were behind cover.

"Damn it. Had to be a sniper, didn't it? All I've got is handguns, shotguns, and melee weapons. I've got nothing for long range!"

He smacked a fist against the rock. "How am I supposed to—"

"Yaaarrgh!"

A man came charging around the rock with a crazy look on his face. He was tattooed with odd symbols everywhere his skin was visible, and wore tatty leather armour. In his right hand he held a knife, and in his left a lead pipe. His hair was long and unkempt, and when he growled at them, the Doctor saw that his teeth were sharpened to points. The man reminded him of the Futurekind, the cannibalistic tribal degenerates he had encountered at the end of the universe with Martha and Captain Jack. How long ago had that adventure been now? A year? Two years?

His brief second of musing was interrupted as Tycho whipped out the double-barrel shotgun and blasted the raider in the face. He fell onto his back, his head torn apart by the explosion of the shotgun, which splattered blood and bits of brain everywhere. The Doctor winced, and had to turn his head away from the gruesome sight.

"Okay, definitely Jackals."

"You didn't have to kill him!" the Doctor said as he climbed to his feet.

"Doctor, I will gladly debate the morality of killing in self-defence with you when we are not about to be torn apart and eaten by insane tribal freaks."

"Raaaaaaaaaaah!"

Another man came charging around from the other side. This one had his hair spiked up like a punk rocker, and had piercings. He was also armed with a baseball bat, punctured with nails. He swung for Tycho, who ducked under the attack and pointed the shotgun up. He stuck the barrel under the raider's chin, and decapitated him too.

"I hate these guys..." Tycho muttered as he went to reload.

Two more popped out before he could finish, one coming from either side of the boulder. A woman and a man armed with a small handgun and a sledgehammer respectively. The Desert Ranger and the time lord both dodged out of the way as they attacked. The woman with the gun was on Tycho's side, and nearly got a shot at him before he finished reloading and blasted her twice, the first time crippling her legs, and the second finishing her off.

The Doctor, on the other hand, was trying to negotiate with the man. He held his hands up, trying to gesture for the raider to calm down.

"Now please, stop this!" he warned. "I'm the Doctor, I can help you! Just put down the hammer and I'll gladly—"

He leapt back as the man lunged at him. He was slow and lumbering, and easily avoided, but he grinned maniacally as he closed in.

"Just stop it! You don't have to—"

Tycho's shotgun roared, and the Doctor's attacker dropped dead like the rest, sledgehammer falling with a thud beside him.

"Doctor, if they could be reasoned with, then they wouldn't be in a fucking raider tribe!"

Tycho calmed as he noticed that the attacks seemed to have stopped. He relaxed and lowered his shotgun, which he then proceeded to reload anyway. The Doctor continued to smoulder, standing over the body of that last raider. He wasn't saying anything, so Tycho didn't speak either, and instead went back to peek around the side of the boulder again.

"Oh, Jesus..." he groaned. "Jackals! Sick fucking bastards..."

"What?" the Doctor asked, his curiosity momentarily overpowering his simmering anger.

"Man, I so do not need this today..."

"What is it, Tycho?"

"Little Raider Junior on the prowl."

That warranted another raised eyebrow.

"Come again?"

"One of these sick fucks brought their kid with them."

The Doctor walked to Tycho' side, and looked around the side of the boulder too. He spotted the woman with the sniper rifle marching towards them across the open desert, foolishly not taking cover. By her side, a sandy-haired boy around twelve years old followed, carrying a knife. He too was tattooed and had sharp teeth, but he didn't have armour, and his hair was shorter.

"Oh..."

"That's the Jackals. Cowards, the lot of them. They use ambush tactics to get you when you're not expecting it, like they did with us, and they don't like to go into a fight unless they have a large group to make sure they win it. And the thing about Jackals is that they aren't above using their children to boost the numbers. Jackal raiders get into the game early."

Tycho looked around, his eyes searching the landscape. Then he turned them back to the shotgun in his hands, and lifted it again. Before he could pop out from their cover, the Doctor grabbed his shoulder.

"Don't you dare."

"I wasn't going to," Tycho responded indignantly.

He looked down his shotgun's sights and prepared to jump out and fire.

"I'm gonna shoot to the other side of the mother. At this range, nothing should hit the boy, and I doubt anything will get her either. If they're smart, they'll scatter and try to go for cover behind one of those other rocks out there. When they do, you and me can run for it."

The Doctor paused for a moment, but gave his newest companion a grim smile. Tycho nodded.

"Alright. On the count of three. One... Two... Three!"

It was very dark by the time the wandering duo eventually made camp for the night. They were set up in a small nook off the side of a winding pathway that led through a canyon. Tycho insisted that it was dangerous to set up an actual campfire in the open, as it would be seen from a distance, and attract raiders or predators. In the canyon, though, he felt it was secluded enough that they were safe. They had rolled a number of rocks over to form a small wall, blocking off the entrance to their camp from the main path. They could easily climb over it, but it was a hindrance to any rats, radscorpions, or other pests that could come and be a nuisance to them in the night.

As they sat either side of the campfire, Tycho passed over one of the lunchboxes he had picked up from Killian. The lunchbox turned out to contain a tin of "Greasy Prospector Pork n' Beans," a box of "InstaMash," another box filled with processed meat called "Cram," and a small bottle of water to add to the InstaMash to get something edible out of it. The Doctor cooked his Pork n' Beans over the fire, holding it out with a pair of tongs. The mash also cooked in its own little pot, but the Cram was good to eat right away. It was essentially just Spam. The only obvious difference seemed to be the name. Parallel universes were weird like that.

"It's called a caravan lunch," Tycho explained. "Caravan traders take them on long-distance journeys. They'll fill you up right quick."

"More like a caravan dinner," the Doctor said between bites of Cram, "with all this stuff you need to cook."

"Strictly speaking, you can eat it raw. It's just not as nice. Especially not the InstaMash."

"Don't think it'd do me much good to swallow a packet of dry powder."

"Well, none of it is good for you. Those things are stuffed with so many preservatives they can't even list them all on the packaging. But InstaMash without the water is just as nutritious and filling as it is with it. The only difference is that it won't taste like mash."

The Doctor scrunched up his face as he lowered the tongs and left the tin baking in the fire. He picked up the now finished pot of InstaMash and began digging into his meal with a spoon.

"So tell me about where you're from," Tycho asked. "Since I assume we're past the stage where I'd think you're crazy if you told me straight, you can answer honestly now, can't you?"

The Doctor coughed.

"I, um... don't much like talking about home."

"Planet of the time lords off limits to discussion?"

"No, but... well..." With a sigh, the Doctor sat up and put his pot of mash aside. "It's... not around anymore."

"No?" Tycho sat up, curious. "What happened?"

"A war. A time war. The Last Great Time War. Fought between my people and a race called the daleks. In the end, there were no survivors. All the daleks are gone. All the time lords are gone. And I'm what's left."

The Doctor wasn't sure why he was so forthcoming with Tycho. It normally took him a little longer than this to open up to a new companion. But perhaps it wasn't so odd, given the circumstances; he was stranded in a foreign universe, separated from his TARDIS, alone in this wasteland but for the Desert Ranger by his side. Was it any surprise that he'd formed a connection with the only other friendly face for miles around?

Tycho bowed his head. "Sorry. Didn't mean to poke at a sore wound. That must have been rough."

The Doctor looked away.

"Yeah..."

"They have a saying around here, you know. 'War never changes.' Mean there'll always be wars fought. It's the nature of man, or time lords, I guess. Or daleks. Whatever."

"You've never heard of daleks before?" asked the Doctor, curiously.

"No. Should I have?"

"Well, in my universe, the daleks had already invaded Earth by this time. They should have only been kicked out five years ago now. Then again, that was in Britain... Never did come to see what was going on over here at the time. Not that I imagine they would've left America alone, but..."

"What's the alternate Earth like?" asked Tycho. "When we first met, you acted like the wasteland was new to you, and you said where you came from, it's not a wasteland. Is Earth different in your universe, then?"

The Doctor cringed slightly, but nevertheless explained.

"Like I said, there was a dalek invasion in my universe. Several of them, actually, but only the one in the twenty-second century was successful. I was around to help stop all the others, but for the last one, I was too late, and I had to help in the revolution afterwards instead. But until that point, the world was doing basically alright. Few close calls and incidents, and the climate wasn't looking too good, but nothing like this. This Earth looks like it suffered a third world war."

"Yeah, Chinese blew us all to Hell," said Tycho, nodding. "October 23rd, 2077. Mankind has been struggling to survive ever since. Or, at least over here we have. I don't know how badly affected any of the other countries in the world are, but I'm pretty sure that Canada and Mexico are just as bad, though."

The Doctor winced as he was reminded of his earlier bold-faced lie, but refrained from commenting on it.

"Say, uh..." Tycho leaned back against the rock wall. "I know it's a long shot, but is there any chance that... well... since you're a time traveller and all... might we be able to...?"

The Doctor felt a pang of sorrow.

"Sorry, but I doubt it. An event that big would likely be a fixed point in time. There's no changing those."

"Fixed point? So... you can change other bits of history?"

"Eh... it's complicated."

"Well, I've got time. Explain it to me."

The following day passed without incident. The journey remained long and arduous, but they came under no further attacks from raiders, and even the mutant wildlife was scarce, though not completely absent. Tycho pointed out wasteland flora and fauna wherever they came across it, introducing the Doctor to such beautiful creatures as the bloatfly, the molerat, the radscorpion, and the majestic giant ant.

Going through the more mountainous regions didn't help. The trip remained slow and plodding, and the longer it took them to reach the Brotherhood, the more agitated the Doctor became. He wasn't quick to panic, but there wasn't much certainty of how long the TARDIS would last without proper maintenance. On the third day of their journey, the Doctor voiced his concerns about their travel speed.

"Believe me, I understand," said Tycho. "But this is just the way of it. Travelling the wasteland is slow. I know we'd all like it to be otherwise, but there's no other way to get around. Now, if we could find a still functioning Chryslus around here or something, then I'd gladly help fix it up, and we could cruise the wasteland in style. But until then, we have to play the hand we're dealt."

And sadly, they never did come across that Chryslus. They found a few Old World roads, and a few buildings and shacks along their route, but never any cars in workable condition. But they did find something else that would help them. A Brotherhood patrol.

"That's them."

Tycho passed his binoculars. Looking through, the Doctor could see them in the distance, looking like knights of yore as the sunlight gleamed off their shining armour. They were built like tanks, with massive shoulder guards, and thick plating all over their full-body suits. The helmets had tubes coming out either side, plugging into the back of armour, and had either lights or small telescopes of some kind mounted on the right sides of the helmets. The visors were small and dark, and the helmets had no mouths, only circular parts that may have been speakers, or possibly air filters.

The Brotherhood patrol team all carried blocky-looking energy weapons, except for one who was carrying a minigun as his weapon of choice. He wasn't the only one armed to the teeth, either; two of the other soldiers, though they carried laser rifles in their hands, also had rocket launchers on their backs as secondary weapons. Idly, the Doctor wondered what they could possibly need them for out in this desert. With armour like that, who or what could even challenge them?

"See why I didn't wanna take chances?" asked Tycho.

The Doctor looked over, and saw that he was busily loading his shotgun with the pulse slugs he had picked up in Killian's store. He then drew his pistol as well, and loaded it with armour-piercing rounds. Finally, just for good measure, Tycho also placed a pulse grenade in an easily accessible side pocket, just in case.

"I really don't think it's a good idea to go up to them with pulse weapons and armour-piercing rounds. Even if you don't attack first, don't you think it'll make them uneasy to see you're carrying weapons specifically chosen to kill them?"

"Nah. How'd they be able to tell unless I start firing?"

Tycho holstered his weapons and broke from cover, striding across the desert to meet the patrol. The Doctor followed. As they approached, the men seemed to notice them, and began walking in their direction too. The two sides met halfway, with one bulky armoured soldier with a laser rifle marching up to meet them head-on.

"You. What's your business in this territory?"

Just like Tycho when he was wearing the helmet, the patrol leader's voice was distorted and tinny, relayed through some kind of speaker rather than being heard directly as he spoke.

"On our way to Lost Hills," Tycho replied coolly. "Need to speak to someone up there. Work out a deal for some vital components we need."

"Heh. That's rich. The Brotherhood trades its goods for water and supplies from the Hub's caravan companies. We don't just barter with any random johnny who makes his way to the base. You'd better have something interesting to us if you want anything we got."

"Ahem," the Doctor said as he stepped forwards. "He's with me."

He reached into his coat and produced his psychic paper. He held it out to show the patrol leader, who cocked his head and reached up to take it with a huge armoured hand. The man looked down at it for several minutes.

"...Well, I'll be damned. Apologies, Dr. Smith. I didn't know you were acquainted with the High Elder. We'd be happy to escort you the rest of the way to Lost Hills."

"Lead the way," the Doctor replied with a flourish.

The patrol leader nodded and turned back to the rest of his team.

"We're returning to base, paladins!" he barked. "Move out!"

As they began marching away, Tycho dared crack a smile. He removed his helmet to show it, silently asking the Doctor how he had just done that. The time lord only winked, and walked off after the paladins, Tycho following after.

Author's note: As of November 2019, all currently available chapters have been revised, with changes to both prose and dialogue to improve the overall flow and presentation of the story.