Nothing happened.

 She realised what the scientists must have been doing -- cutting auxiliary power to Mission Control.

 Rubenstein had just enough time to scream, "Save me, Tempos!" before the 14th-magnitude explosive device ripped through the station and destroyed one end of the time corridor.

 "When all else fails, duck. It's not practical, but can be momentarily comforting"
- UNIT procedures manual, Zen division

 The sheer force and intense heat of the blast paid no heed to the heavy steel and titanium plated shields that had locked Rubenstein in. Nor would it register much for any animal, vegetable and mineral within a blast radius of near 1000 metres. Major Bromley understood this and, respectfully, was hightailing it as fast as she could.

 Corporal Nohara had perished in the initial onslaught and Gods only knew what had happened to Herriot, but Bromley still had a handful of technicians and a few guards in her care and it was her duty to make the best of a bad situation. Her choice of Section B-12 as a place of refuge hadn't been a mere desperate decision, as it was conveniently placed adjacent to a maintenance shaft that ran down vertically a full 300 metres.

 As soon as possible Bromley had had a service panel or two pried open and set the technicians upon the task of creating a looping tape for the surveillance camera before finding a way in through to the shafts.

 "Major!" shouted the most senior technician left, his head still buried among the panels and generating more than a little alarm. "A massive flux is being generated at time corridor.... They're overloading the fusion core!"

 Time to go. "We need out" commanded the Major.

 "Barnett? Are we through yet?" There was the gratifying sound of reinforced section wall crumpling down a vast shaft.

 "Yes, ma'am."

 "Good! Go, go, out!"

 Technician and security alike needed no further encouragement and scarpered. Slipping down the smooth walls, barely acknowledging the indented rungs of the ladder. Bromley had taken one last look at the corridor that was under her leadership up until a long two hours ago, and jumped.

 "Major?" yelled the senior technician, still vigorously tampering with microchips and boards. "I think can cut Auxiliary pow..." he cut short, noticing he was alone. In a flurry he completed the rerouting and pelted for the hole in the wall through which everyone had presumably fled.

 He awkwardly slid into the shaft as a tumultuous explosion shook the station to its core. He scrabbled to repurchase a handhold, but only succeeded in catching the rim to the corridor wall.

 Molten steel of infinite Celsius annihilated him before he had time to fall.

 Bromley had free fallen as far as possible before applying her meagre brakes by pressing against the shaft in all directions. The resultant impact at the base though, was negligible when compared to the quake that threw her across the storage sector shortly after.

 A few seconds.

 She ignored her twisted ankle and torn hamstring as desperate survival instincts kicked in. The supply shuttles where the only option.

 Throwing open the electromagnetic rail and engine to all the power it could take, her shuttle and three others took off down a tunnel, a few lengths ahead of the a fireball of hell-sized proportions.

 The time corridor never stood a chance.

 Zeta and chronon particles amalgamated into Catherine-wheels of epic proportions. Sparks and bolts of purple and octarine coalesced and rented the fabric of reality, arcing their way gradually along the corridor.

 Throughout time, between 2070 and 1186 BC, at the site of the temple of Delphi, which was to become Mission Control for this ill-fated project, anachronisms cropped up.

 A felt-tip pen on the stone alter in 213 BC.

 A basket of worm-eaten fruit, donated to Apollo, appeared during the construction of said Mission control.

 A rebel Zeta-particle storm, destroyed the remains of the temple by 400 AD.

 The self-entitled last chronosaur, Tempos, roared in delight as he felt his bonds weakening.

 Time was losing its grip.

 Not only was their the immanent threat of a time corridor collapsing, taking several millennia with it, via the assistance of either an out of control, detonating Space Probe; or a self-destructing pirate escape-craft. She also had to deal with a chronosaur, who supposedly was residing in that temple over there.

 What exactly *was* a chronosaur, anyway? She couldn't recall ever hearing the species name in classes at the academy, and it certainly sounded like something they would have mentioned.

 She desperately hoped that her failing memory wasn't a symptom of the Mangaria virus. She was already beginning to recognise some of the symptoms of the virus breaking through her mental defences. It certainly would seem to be stronger than she originally thought.

 Her brow folded as she quickly devised a course of action.

 Turlough jumped her to the mark. "How long?" he barked, his military training entering first gear.

 "Tentatively estimate a minute maximum."

 "Rubbish!" said Romana, hugging herself in thought. "We don't have nearly that much.."

 Turlough wasn't waiting for her to finish. "Demck, get me over that craft of yours, NOW!" He pulled out a regulation Trion weapon he had confiscated from one of the captured rebels and checked it was set. "Forty-two-whatever, you're coming with Troilus and I."

 Troilus snapped out of the trance-like state he had protectively wrapped himself in, preferring not to think about these flying monsters that these demons and gods, including his beloved Cressida, seemed to take for granted. The commander-like voice assumed by Turlough promised action and that was what he understood best. He even forgot to blanche until after he was pushed from the hovering Trion flying beast onto the smaller, Demck's beast.

 Turlough landed neatly beside his petrified form, blasted a roof hatch open with the fires from hell and dove in, quickly followed by that talking bug, 426ahw.

 He could just make out the furious bellow of Turlough, sounding remarkably like his first commanding officer, over the screaming noise from the Trion beast as it flew towards the temple. "Move it, soldier!"

 "Milady? Are you all alright?"

 "Yes, ahhh no. No time." She forgot about dignity as she ran headlong into the rumbling temple, where a manic laughter was emanating.

 Dolon was about to follow when a plummeting Zoe used him to cushion her fall.

 The gateway to the time corridor had recently become visible and was expanding rapidly. Within, she could see that indeed, something horribly wrong was beginning to happen. The purpley-blue mash of cloud-like waves that she didn't even begin to understand were beginning to look disturbed.

 Then a dark shape began to form within its depths. It very quickly was discernible as the probe. Demck and Vicki noticed at the same time.

 "Time's up!" squealed Demck as he leaped for the tractor controls. Fortunately Vicki had been forced to study the early designs of tractor beams in third grade astromechanics, otherwise she wouldn't have been able to help has efficiently as she did. *If only poor Troilus could see this* she thought, as the two began to desperately catch the Probe.

 Turlough nodded grimly without slowing. "The original crew was eight strong and I think I've accounted for five. The odds are even if Hercules here can use a laser." He glanced back to find that Troilus had managed to catch up and was wearing a face of stolid determination. He allowed himself a grin - warrior-types are all the same - and then shot the lock to the main bridge.

 She had a suspicion regarding the origin of this Tempos-being, but she was pretty sure it couldn't be a chronosaur like it claimed. Even if it was a chronovore, there was not much chance of it getting itself trapped in a time corridor.

 Steeling herself against the winds, the dusts, the debris, she called once again, raising her voice above the that of the temples.

 "Tempos! If that's who you really are, which I must admit, sounds a BIT MELODRAMATIC! I cannot allow this." It was a futile bluff, she knew, but one which irritatingly echoed the Doctor's tactics and usually worked - for him.

 The explosion sent Romana's time senses reeling and threatened to black her out. She collapsed to her knees and gasped in psychic shock, the winds twisting and tossing around her. She vaguely recalling experiencing such a thing on a much lesser scale somewhere in Paris, but her memories were failing.... *imuza cum da tu nitana* throbbed the Managarian virus.

 "Milady!" yelled a distraught Dolon as he ran to the Lady President's side and helped her up. She leaned heavy upon him, but quickly gathered some more strength together.

 Zoe was concentrating intently upon something from the relative safety of the entrance. Then she suddenly seemed to realise something and ran into the whirlwind to join Romana. "His real name is Schlack!" her high-pitched voice screamed against the swirling winds. "426ahw mentioned that one of them unsuccessfully tried to go forward in time through the one-way corridor."

 Romana's rapidly deadening eyes regained a spark of intelligence as she used the concerned Dolon as support and yelled as the top of her voice, "Schlack, formerly employed by Rubenstein." The winds inside stopped dead. She had his attention, though the time disturbance was still just beginning outside she noted, and swooned. Dolon caught her while she once again supported herself.

 "You, Schlack, got your mind imprisoned in the corridor, didn't you?"

 So far, so good.

 "Your only way out was to work with the Seren and you jumped at the opportunity, while ironically sealing your our fate by instigating the very plan that robbed your body. I think that would drive anyone mad enough to call themselves 'Tempos', don't you, Zoe?"

 A massive storm of psychic energy picked up Romana and threw her against a pillar.

 "I WILL BE FREE"

 *Imuza cum da tu nitana.* sapped the Managarian virus. Romana collapsed inelegantly in a heap.

 "I know" screamed Vicki, the ship violently lurching in the currents of the air. "I'm diverting all I got." She frantically manipulated the controls. Attempting to catch a ship in tractor beams was hard enough, without having to compensate for as much disturbance as was being presented now.

 Tombaugh was poised over the self-destruct, ready to commit the ultimate pledge to his cause.

 "Advise you to cease or inform you will be killed" growled 426ahw, relishing his role, yet not realising the futility in such a command.

 Turlough watched as Tombaugh lunged for the self-destruct mechanism, but managed to shoot the commander clean through the chest before he could reach it. Another rebel, following suit, had his arm blasted off. The third finally reacted and blasted Turlough in the shoulder, sending him on an awkward spiral too the ground.

 426ahw wasn't nearly as good under pressure and fumbled with his blaster before missing and crouching under the nearest console.

 Another stomach-churning lurch took them nearer to the treetops and Vicki almost lost the Probe. Lighting forked all around the ship now, as she painstakingly lowered it closer to the ground.

 An eleventh century sword appeared out of thin air and clattered to the floor, unerringly close to Vicki. She yelped, startled, and dropped the Space Probe, sending it plummeting the rest of the way, which was fortunately only the last few metres. With a crash that would normally have been felt, but was otherwise drowned in the chaos, the Space Probe drove through the trees and buried itself in a crater of dirt and stone.

 Vicki, well aware of the little piece of luck, managed to disregard the anachronism that had fortuitously popped in, and turned to more urgent matters.

 "Demck, we need to find Romana"

 "What?" screamed Demck, perspiring in a way that only seals can.

 "I said.."

 An abnormally large eddy swept the Trion craft directly under the wormhole and energy tendrils of a hundred colours swept over it.

 A blast caught him through his shell and ripped into the delicate membrane underneath. His unconscious form skidded dementedly on its shell across the metal floor into the corner.

 The ship bucked at the hands of the timestorm that was forming and Turlough opened his bleary eyes to behold the leering face of the one Trion still standing, orange hair slicked into a fringe designed to antagonise, and the wrong end of a blaster pointing at him.

 The Trion reached for the self-destruct.

 "I WILL BE FREE"

 "Lady Romana!" Dolon raced to tend to his President, but could elicit no response.

 Zoe screamed as the first chunks of the temple stone begun to fall. The entrance crumpled in and dust and debris rained everywhere.

 "THE CORRIDOR IS BROKEN! I AM FREE!"

 Roll credits.....

 TO BE CONCLUDED....