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Braxiatel has only met one of his future incarnations. He aims to live a full life in each body, unlike some people, and it seems he’ll be successful, at least as far as this regeneration goes.

Despite his relative ignorance of his future features, he is entirely certain he will never look like Coordinator Narvin. So it must be Narvin himself standing here, in the middle of the Braxiatel Collection.

Narvin. Of all the Time Lords to discover his secret - one of his secrets - Narvin.

“Braxiatel?”

“Coordinator.” Braxiatel steps out of the shadows and approaches him. “What a surprise.”

“You couldn’t come,” Narvin says wearily and Brax is genuinely surprised, a rarity. Close to, there are marked differences between this Narvin and the man he saw in the High Council meeting yesterday - this Narvin is thinner, scruffier, and looks utterly exhausted - but it’s still Narvin.

“He sent you?” Braxiatel asks, the barest hint of incredulity colouring his tone; after all, it is Narvin.

“Not exactly. I don’t come from his time frame. He’s been…delayed. The result of some entirely illegal and insanely dangerous alterations to our own history. Romana sent me, to ask you for a few more. We thought you’d be used to cryptic instructions from the future.”

Out of everything he’s said, that’s what catches Braxiatel’s attention. Romana. He doubts the Narvin he saw yesterday has ever referred to the President by name, and certainly not in a tone lacking in venom. Not that the rest was at all lacking in interest.

“I would have expected Romana to know better,” he says, and looks Narvin up and down. “Of all the Time Lords to send as an emissary…”

“There wasn’t anyone else.”

Brax raises an eyebrow. “Have things deteriorated - ”

“Yes,” Narvin interrupts, “it’s wretched. You’re caught in a causality loop and Leela’s injured and we haven’t enough power to reach Gallifrey in any time period, so we’re down to the last resort of the last resort. I’m asking you” – his lip curls – “a favour.”

Silent moments pass, as the universe absorbs this.

“I won’t -” Narvin begins.

“Please don’t say it again, Narvin.”

“On that we are entirely agreed.”

“I’m not sure I could stand the shock.”

“Romana was going to do this. I almost wish she had.”

“Personally, I would have much preferred it.”

“So would I. But we couldn’t be sure the transfer would work.”

“Ah.” Brax pauses. “So tell me, Coordinator, what are the Madam President’s orders?”

“Right. What you’re going to do is…”