"Quite the scrapheap of servitors," the Doctor muttered to himself. "I wonder if any of them still work?"

 His query was answered when the mummies began to lurch out of the chamber, their arms outstretched as they advanced upon the soldiers.

 Almost immediately, one of the soldiers withdrew a pistol from its holster and began to open fire. Several other soldiers began to follow suit, and the Doctor crouched down, attempting to make his way back to the pillar. However, he was soon blocked by the powerful figure of Kraushaar.

 "What do you think you're doing?" Kraushaar asked indignantly. "Those servitors are robots," the Doctor said. "I'm going to see if I can shut them down before they kill your soldiers."

 Almost on cue, a bloodcurdling yell could be heard.

 "Many have given their lives for the glory of the new Reich, Herr Doktor," Kraushaar responded. "Do not try to avoid the consequences of your mistake. We shall proceed."

 "No," the Doctor responded. He already had the blood of an entire solar system on his hands. He wasn't going to let more deaths stain his conscience.

 Already, more screams and gunshots could be heard. Luckily, though, the occasional clang of metal on the floor could be heard. At least those weren't fully functional servitors, the Doctor thought.

 "Don't be insolent, Doktor," Kraushaar demanded.

 "What are you going to do, Kraushaar? Kill me? I've lived longer than you can comprehend. I'm not afraid." The Doctor stood his ground.

 Grabbing the Doctor's throat with his right hand, Kraushaar lifted the smaller man off of the floor. He then snarled, "I will snap your neck like a twig, Doktor."

 "Go ahead," the Doctor snarled back. "I'm the only one who knows the Osirians better than you do...I'm your ticket to making it through this place alive...think the mummies are your only obstacles?"

 Gradually, Kraushaar began squeezing the Doctor's throat. As the mechanical hand's grip closed around his windpipe, the Doctor began blacking out, the room fading into blackness.

 At that point, the gunfire and screaming stopped. The blood-streaked bodies of both mummies and humans lay on the ground of the chamber. Just then, Kael emerged from the room, and approached Kraushaar. Watching the Doctor slowly suffocate in his clutch, he would not turn to face her.

 "Let him go," Kael announced. "I think I've shut down the pillar... At least, those...things have stopped attacking."

 "No," Kraushaar said. "This little man has played me for a fool for the last time. He is not worthy of our attention."

 "Our men were killed, mein herr," Kael pleaded. "This Doctor.... knows of what he speaks. Killing him might not be in our best interests."

 "I know," Kraushaar sneered. "But why share the glory of the Osirians...and the new Reich....with this little...."

 "Let him lead us to the technology....let him help us find what we want...and then we'll kill him...Or sacrifice him to the Osirians for their help."

 Kraushaar looked at the little man he held in his hand. So small, so.... pathetic. One thought, and the Doctor's spine would be crushed into powder, his windpipe bent and broken like a drinking straw. Pure power...that's what the Reich would bring. That's what Kraushaar was...the embodiment of pure, unadulterated power. But power was best used in a proper context. And besides, if the Doctor was familiar with the Osirians, it was logical that they were familiar with him...and Kael was right. He would make the perfect sacrifice to their new gods.

 Kraushaar's hand opened, and the Doctor fell to the floor. Gasping for air, the Doctor took in all that had happened, got his bearings, and immediately began reassessing the situation. He brought himself to his feet, straightened himself up, and addressed his current companions.

 "Let us proceed," the Doctor announced.

 In fact, as she rose from the ground, she found herself feeling disoriented, and was attempting to get her bearings. They were in the rocket, they went into hyperdrive.... as they approached Mars, they began pressing the lines of hieroglyphics...and then they were here. She adjusted herself as she stumbled slightly on her feet - some kind of artificial gravity kicked in. No, not artificial gravity, Mars had its own...gravity enhancers, perhaps? No time to think about that now. As she looked around the room - a very plain, nonadorned room, as it turned out - she saw Indy and Marcus laying on the ground, still unconscious.

 Upon a rather quick examination, the only thing that stood out in the room was a stone console-type structure at one end, with an open door behind it. Benny approached the console, and examined the rows of hieroglyphics which decorated it. However, she was also trying to make sense of everything that had just happened.... how did they get here? Transmat? Some kind of artificially created wormhole? Or, as Indy once said, some "magic portal"? And if so, why was that mechanism in place - the people who took the rocket wouldn't know about it...and, in theory, there was nobody on this end to instigate the wormhole. Could they have inadvertantly triggered some "emergency" mechanism? The Osirians always were a paranoid bunch, Bernice thought to herself...and any race that finds sacrifices "entertaining" might appreciate the irony of having such controls on a rocket bearing individuals who would be unable to use it.

 What bothered her more was that, if that mechanism was installed as an emergency, why the Osirians would want that to be done. It would only mean that whoever was on the rocket would have their bodies transported here...wherever here was....

 As she began examining the console further, a very loud groan emerged from the floor in front of her. Soon, Indy found himself struggling to rise to his feet. Benny ran to help him up. He wouldn't be used to adjusting to enhanced Mars-normal gravity.

 "Be careful," Benny said as she helped Indy rise to his feet.

 "This is...strange," Indy said, finally standing firm. "This feels...unusual. I've had hangovers better than this."

 "It...will pass," Benny said.

 "Wait a minute...the rocket..." Indy stammered.

 "Probably in a million bits somewhere on this planet," Benny said. Just then, another groan emerged nearby. They helped Marcus on his feet, and soon all three were examining the console. Of course, it was either that or stare at the four plain tan walls for the rest of their lives.

 "Typical Osirian simplicity, my arse," Benny grumbled. Most of the console consisted of lines of hieroglyphics, some of which were different from those on the rocket.

 "So, can you whip up a 'magic portal' to get us back to Earth?" Indy asked.

 "I don't know," Benny responded.

 Irritated, Indy announced, "Listen, I'm tired of playing all this Buck Rogers crap - can we get back to Earth, yes or no?"

 "Look," Benny turned and emphasized. "I don't even know where we *are*..."

 "On Mars, I'm assuming," Marcus added feebly.

 "Sure, but where?"

 "John Carter's house?" Indy quipped.

 Obvlivious to Indy's comment, and absorbed in thought, Benny absentmindedly responded, "Maybe...let's see..."

 As the two men glimpsed over her shoulder, Indy said, "Is it just me, or are some of those characters...brighter...than the others?"

 Taking notice, Benny *did* notice that several characters seemed fresher, more alive...maybe some indicator of what controls were to be pressed, perhaps?

 "You're right," Benny responded. "Let's see if hitting one of these things does something..."

 "Besides blow us all to kingdome come," Indy muttered.

 As Benny hit a character which resembled an eye over a red orb, the room suddenly shimmered around them.

 "Not *again*," Indy complained.

 "Actually, I think we've activated a hologram," Benny responded.

 "A hollow what?" Marcus asked.

 "A kind of three dimensional motion picture," Benny explained.

 Both Indy and Marcus nodded, as if they understood. Of all the adventures they both had, nothing compared to this. It was going to be one for the history books, that was for sure.

 However, the picture revealed the inside of a large crater, strewn with very small fragments of metal. Most of the debris was spread out evenly, and there was a kind of tannish haze in the air - most likely dust strewn upwards as a result of the force of the crash. Pieces of metal were strewn all about, like a jigsaw puzzle dumped out of a box. In the (relative) far distance, a hyperdrive assembly could be seen, broken in two like an icicle, and glowing faintly with radiation.

 "There goes our taxi home," Indy grumbled.

 And us without any lager, Benny thought to herself.

 Damaged, the entity thought This body is damaged...

 With a single thought, waves of energy spread throughout Cleo Shea's body, attempting to fix this new vessel. As she stood in silence, she could feel wounds closing up, and new skin forming. Bullets were dissolved in flesh that was now more than human. Now, there was sheer power, power to do that which needed to be done.

 It had been too long...way too long...

 Now, there was a servant...a host, if you will, for the battle yet to come...

 The body of Cleo Shea looked around, and looked down at herself. She was covered completely in blood. With an almost feral look on her face, she looked around and beheld the death before her. The corpses of humans looked almost beautiful compared with the scrapped bodies of servitor robots. Of course, it was quite fitting...

 A sacrifice. A noble sacrifice to the Osirians. Now, the prophecy was coming to fruition...

 She knew what she had to do.

 "Doctor, do *not* waste valuable time," Kraushaar ordered.

 Turning towards Kraushaar, the Doctor responded, "I'm *not* wasting valuable time...I'm trying to figure out something." He turned back around and looked at the pictures again, ignoring his companions.

 Silently approaching the Doctor, Kael whispered, "What _are_ you doing?"

 "This seems to be some kind of logic equation in four dimensions," The Doctor said matter-of-factly.

 "What do you mean?"

 "My dear," the Doctor explained. "The Osirians were generally a very paranoid race...even though their technology was far superior to the races the enslaved, they *still* wanted to make things tough. We're not going to get into wherever we're going easily...and this is one way they're doing it."

 "But why have all this *and* two doors?" Kael asked.

 "Why is a a mouse when it spins?" The Doctor responded.

 Kael just stood there, trying to decide whether the Doctor was just extremely clever, or extremely stupid. Or both.

 "Do *not* continue to procrastinate, Doctor," Kraushaar's voice boomed. "We have a destiny to meet...a dream to fulfill."

 Turning towards Kraushaar, the Doctor said. "I know a lot of people with dreams...my friend Wesley, for example. He has dreams of things to come...I wonder how he and Dian are doing...and I wonder if I should pop by and remind him purple and gold are simply _not_ his colors..."

 "Be silent, Doctor!" Kraushaar demanded. "We have a destiny with the Osirians! They shall lead our Reich to glorious triumph."

 "Kraushaar," the Doctor responded. "do you *really* think the Osirians really care about a pathetic little man's desperate wish to conquer some land? Do you think that the Osirians believe you to be a 'master race'?"

 Kael interrupted, "We're here for _technology_, Doctor. With superior weaponry..."

 "That's always the way with you humans, isn't it?" the Doctor sneered. "The more people you can kill, the more glorious things will be..."

 "Herr Doktor," Kraushaar boomed. "Your attempts to delay us won't work. Now, you have informed us that we need you..."

 Raising his right arm, Kraushaar pointed the metal claw towards the Doctor. "Prove yourself right."

 Turning, the Doctor went back towards the wall of pictures.

 You know, when you've seen one corridor, you've seen them all.

 After fiddling with the Osirian holographic display, we've been attempting to figure out just exactly where we are...and why we got here. Why the Osirians had a wormhole generator - or transmat - installed in a rocketship I have no idea. Maybe it was some strange idea of Osirian humor. Now *there's* a paper for you.

 So far, though, we've been exploring this whole area, starting with the sole doorway, and we've been running around in circles. Indy and Marcus are both very typical of their time - macho, headstrong, and just brimming with the noble heroics that they believe themselves to have. There's one hall that dead ends into a doorway, which we're at now. There are a series of switches, or pictures, with circles and other shapes on them. Of course, the Osirians couldn't just have a button marked "open".

 And, of course, both Indy and Marcus are just way too complacent about being the first men - unofficially, of course - on Mars. Marcus complained that the "red planet" wasn't red enough, and that the sands outside looked more like "butterscotch". Of course, Indy then chimed in with some smart comment about wishing that the Martians *had* invaded Jersey back in '38. I didn't bother telling them about the regular inhabitants of this planet.

 If we ever find our way off of wherever we are - and something seems very familiar about this place - I'm taking Indy for a drink. Maybe a few.

 He could hear the voices, see the cities in flames. He had a strong sense of all that had been done before. He knew what would soon transpire.

 He also had a sense of someone *else*...no, not someone, some*thing* else....with a different sense of purpose. But it was familiar...an old, familiar enemy. A battle that was fought long ago, and now, would be fought again.

 And his uceny was very close by.

 This time...the outcome would be different.

 "That's because you're only thinking in three dimensions," the Doctor countered.

 As the Doctor and Kael attempted to figure out the patterns on the wall, Kraushaar stood behind them, muttering about that "verdammt Rommel". Even if they *did* figure out which was the proper one to push, there was always the question of which door to choose...if there *was* a choice. The Doctor removed his fedora, placed it under his left arm, rubbed his forehead with his right hand, and replaced the fedora on his head. What was that old saying that he learned....a long time ago....

 "Never play chess with an Osirian," the Doctor mumbled.

 "What?" Kael responded.

 Turning to her, the Doctor said, "I wonder...what if all of this is for naught?"

 "Doctor, don't think that your attempts to discourage this will work..." Kael asserted.

 "But think about it...these are patterns that you wouldn't be able to solve for another six hundred years...why put these up when you know humans won't exactly be able to solve them? And why put this here where it doesn't belong? Doesn't this all seem a little unusual?"

 Kael looked at the Doctor, whose mood was relatively...calm. What was it the Americans called it...a poker face? But she had to think...nothing about this made sense. Nothing.

 Of course, the Doctor *had* been trying to delay them...

 Just then, Kraushaar said, "Enough, Doctor, of your delaying tactics..."

 "No, you don't understand," the Doctor pleaded, turning to the half-mechanical man. "If you press the wrong switch, we might all be killed."

 "Or, we might achieve our destiny," Kraushaar responded.

 With that, his claw jabbed at one of the pictures.

 "Which one of these things do we press?" Marcus asked.

 "I don't know," Indy responded. "Maybe our future gal here can tell us."

 Benny, exasperated, snarled, "Look, I don't know *either*...we press the wrong one, we end up dead. We press the right one, we find ourselves in the next room."

 "OK, let's do this scientifically," Indy said, and pointing with his finger, began, "Eeenie, meenie, meinie..."

 On "Moe", he pressed down on one of the circles, and the door opened.

 Indy turned to Benny with a "told you so" look.

 "Don't be too hasty," Benny responded. "Things could get worse."

 They entered a large, more brightly lit chamber. There were a series of doors, and what appeared to be a map along one wall.

 "Why, look, it might be a map to this place," Benny announced.

 "What makes you think *that*?" Indy asked. "For all we know, it could be some elaborate tale of woe..."

 "See the three small red dots? That's us," Benny asserted.

 "How do you know?" Indy said. "Or is it one of those future things?"

 Benny kept quiet, unsure of whether they had "You are here" signs in the 1940s.

 Just then, a large servitor mummy appeared before them. It wore some kind of regal, perhaps ceremonial headdress, as well as some kind of toga-like garment.

 It raised its right hand, within the palm lay a white, pyramid type structure.

 A voice boomed from the mummy, "YOU HAVE TRESPASSED THIS SACRED VESSEL OF THE OSIRIANS. YOU HAVE DARED TO ENTER A PLACE PRIVILEGED ONLY FOR THE HIGHEST LIFE FORMS. YOU HAVE TRIED TO ENTER THIS HOLY PLACE, AND ARE NOW CURSED TO SUCCEED. YOU SHALL SOON JOIN THE DEAD IN THEIR FINAL RESTING PLACE."

 The pyramid in the mummy's hand glowed. As it did, Indy, Marcus, and Benny found themselves grasping at their throats, as an invisible force seemed to squeeze the air out of them. Their hearts pounded heavily, and they found themselves gradually losing consciousness....

 They only had seconds to live.....

 Please come back next week for the next exciting chapter,

 "Buried Alive!"