Plastic Soul

Building of the Celestial Intervention Agency
The Capitol, Gallifrey


‘Rotiart, the Master is on Earth,’ spoke the black robed figure.

‘Earth?’

‘Sol 3 in Mutter’s Spiral.  The Doctor must be warned.’

Rotiartcartmeldentra looked puzzled, ’But surely, we cannot contact the Doctor.  I mean I’d 
love to but he’s in exile.  Unless we were to pardon him…’

‘Rotiart, I know you and he were friends long ago.  I know you want him pardoned, but we can’t.  
Even our powers have limits.  The High Council says he hasn’t learned his lesson.’

‘If he helps us, could his sentence be lessened?’ Rotiart asked hopefully.

‘Perhaps.’

‘All right, if it will help the Doctor, I’ll do it.’

‘Here is your Time Ring,’ replied the dark figure, handing him the bracelet, 

‘Oh, and wear something appropriate this time.’

‘How so?’

The black robed figure had a slight grin on his face, ‘Wearing an anorak on a planet of nudists 
wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had.’

‘Right sir.  Yes sir.’ Rotiart walked out of the room.

The Doctor, eh?  I haven’t seen him for ages.  In fact it was right after the Accident that 
the Doctor stole that old TARDIS.  The Accident, something else I haven’t thought of in awhile…

They were on a mission, the two of them.  The Doctor and Rotiart were told to retrieve Time Lord 
technology from the Venonats.  The CIA said it would be easy.  They didn’t account for the 
fact that the Venonats wouldn’t want to give up the gadgets they found.  Rotiart wound up 
on the ground with an energon bolt through his left heart, bleeding to death.  As soon as the 
bolt hit, the Doctor was by his side, easing him down.  Normally, in a case like this, he
should have regenerated but something had gone wrong.  The Doctor dragged him back to their 
TARDIS and returned to Gallifrey.

After many hours of surgery, they had replaced his damaged heart with a plastic copy.  Rassilon only
knows why they chose plastic, but it’s worked all these years.  Soon I can leave the CIA.  
Just this one last mission.  Maybe…possibly…I hope.



Deep Space Research Center #2
England, Earth Autumn 1970


The CIA has traced the Doctor here.  Pop in, say hi, pop out.  Just tell him about the Master 
and that he’s walking into a trap.  Nothing more.  I must say, I do like these clothes they put 
me in.  This suit does suit me.  Ha, ha.  Ah, there’s the Doctor now.  Here I go.

While Rotiart was talking to the Doctor, the Nestines were coming to Earth.  Lured by the 
Master’s signal, they homed in on the radio waves being put out.  Quickly, they traveled through 
the vast regions of space, finally arriving in England.

Rotiart was wrapping everything up.  The Doctor didn’t seem very pleased to see him though.  He 
finished with the Doctor just after the first of the Nestines inhabited the thermos a worker 
had brought for lunch.  

A tiny bit of the Nestine Consciousness lodged in Rotiart’s replacement heart.  He didn’t notice 
and neither did the Nestine.



Museum of Alien Artifacts
The Capitol, Gallifrey many years later

The Building was musty and dark.  There was little light and it smelled vaguely of cheese.  So, it
was pretty much like any other museum on any planet at any time in the history of Creation.  
Rotiart didn’t care about any of that.  He thought it added to it’s charm.  The building itself 
was one of the oldest on Gallifrey, being built during the time of Rassilon himself.  It was 
full to the top with artifacts from every inhabited world in the universe.  Some it’s prize 
possessions included a Type III Dalek travel casing, a drone from the People, a cleaner from 
Paradise Towers, and by far the rarest item in the Universe, the complete run of Professor X, 
including the telemovie and the episodes destroyed by the BBC, on videotape.  Everything in the
museum was provided by it’s greatest patron, the Doctor.

Rotiart appreciated the help of his old friend, even though the two hadn’t actually seen 
each other in three hundred years.  Rotiart now ran the museum upon his retirement from 
the CIA.  He was moving slower now, approaching the end of his twelfth life.  You ran through 
lives quicker in the service.  It was going rather smoothly this time.  Although after all
these years, his left heart had never regenerated along with him.  None of the surgeons could 
explain it.  By all accounts he should have two real living hearts.

Without warning there was a shooting pain in his artificial heart.  ‘It’s never been like this 
before!  Something’s wrong.  What’s happening?’  Rotiart slumped against a case containing Martian 
armor. Regeneration was upon him.

Ten minutes later, Rotiart revived.  He looked at his reflection in the display case.  His face was 
pale and waxy.  No hair, pupil-less eyes, he looked more like a mannequin than a Time Lord.  
The Nestine that had laid dormant in his artificial heart for so long had revived.

NESTINE AWAKENED

NESTINE ON-LINE

WHERE ARE WE

you are on gallifrey

WHO ARE YOU

i am rotiart a time lord

WE ARE BONDED WITH YOU

looks that way

OUR FIRST TASK IS TO CONTACT THE NESTINE CONSCIOUNESS

why

TO CALL FOR REINFORCEMENTS

reinforcements

FOR THE INVASION

invasion

OF GALLIFREY

no you mustn’t

IT IS NOT YOUR CHOICE

WE WILL LOWER THE TRANSDUCTION BARRIERS

THE INVASION OF GALLIFREY BEGINS NOW
 



The TARDIS
The Vortex, outside of time

‘Romana?  Romana?’  The Doctor wandered the corridors of the TARDIS, his unfeasibly long 
scarf trailing him.  ‘Romana?  Oh, that’s right.  She’s on Holiday.’  He stopped in his 
tracks and looked around.  ‘What to do, what to do?  Ah, I can finally get around to getting
that gift for Sarah Jane.  Now, what to get her…K-9?  Wait, he’s with Romana.  No, wait…slowly
…think things through…I can build her a K-9.  I did it once, I can do it again.  Yes, Sarah
would love it.’  Suddenly, the Doctor clutched his head and fell to the ground.  ‘Ahhh, 
Romana…what’s going on…’ he strained.  His pupils went small and then disappeared.

The Doctor was on the astral plane.  ‘Haven’t been here for awhile.  It should be renamed the 
astral plain,’ he mused.  It was white, no distinguishing landmarks, just an white void.  
There was however, fog.  Lots and lots of fog.

‘Doctor,’ Romana stepped out of the mist.

‘Romana?  What are you doing here?  You’re on Holiday.’

‘I’m not your Romana, Doctor.’

‘Whose Romana are you?’

‘Your Romana is still on Holiday, and having a great time I might add.  I am from Gallifrey in 
the future.  It’s under attack from the Nestines.’

‘Why me?  Haven’t I saved Gallifrey enough for my lifetimes?  I was just about to go on Holiday 
with you, the other you.’

‘You always were difficult when it came to Gallifrey, Doctor,’ she smiled. ‘But you are the only 
Time Lord who’s faced the Nestines with whom we are on speaking terms.’

The Doctor took out a yo-yo and started playing with it.  ‘I take it the Master wasn’t available.’

 ‘No.  There is one other thing you need to know.  Your old friend Rotiart is behind this.’

The Doctor’s yo-yo string broke, ‘Rotiart?  Never.  I won’t believe it.  He would never do 
something as…outrageous as this.’

Romana put her hand on the Doctor’s shoulder, ‘He’s changed Doctor…you’ll just have to see for
yourself.’

And with that Romana disappeared.  Her link with the astral plan broken.  The Doctor broke his link 
soon afterwards and found himself back in the console room of the TARDIS.  He flipped a couple 
of switches and the course was changed to Gallifrey.



Chamber of the High Council
The Capitol, Gallifrey

‘Madame President, I have sent the message to the Doctor.’  Romana sat back in her chair, visibly 
drained.

‘Thank you, Lady Romana,’ spoke President Flavia, ‘Now all we can do is wait.’

A familiar 
VWORP-VWORP sound filled the room and the Doctor’s TARDIS materialized in the corner.

'Looks like we won’t have to wait long.’ commented Romana.

The Doctor bounded out of the door, felt hat perched precariously on his curly mop.  ‘Hello 
President Borusa, Romana.  You’re not Borusa,’ indicating Flavia.  ‘Oh well, we’ll talk 
later.  What exactly happened?’  He sat down in an unoccupied chair.

Flavia spoke quietly, ‘The Quantum and Transduction Barriers were lowered and the Nestines 
transported themselves here.  The signal they homed in on came from the Museum of Alien Artifacts,
Rotiart’s stomping grounds.  They’ve now taken over all of the houses and most of the Capitol.’

‘And you want me to get rid of them, correct?’ the Doctor replied.

‘Well, yes.’ Came the reply from Romana.

The Doctor sighed and muttered to himself, ‘Looks like I’m playing the Pied Piper again.’

At that moment Commander Maxil burst into the room, ‘Madame President, the Autons have entered
the Panopticon!  Captain Andred and the rest of the Guard can’t hold them off much longer!’

The Doctor leapt to his feet, ’Right, first thing’s first, I can repel the Auton invasion.  
Romana, remember that concert we accidentally popped in on in England, ‘round about 1997?’

Romana thought for a moment, ‘Oh…yes.  It was the Spice…uh…’

‘Girls.’ finished the Doctor.

‘Yes, that’s right.  Why, what do you have in mind?’

‘I pocketed a CD of theirs in case this sort of thing happened again.  One moment,’ the Doctor 
rushed back into the TARDIS.

‘Romana, who are these Spice Girls?’ asked the President.

‘They are one of the worst music groups that Earth ever produced.  But for some unknown reason during 
a five year span, everyone under the age of twelve adored them.  For adults, it was pure mind-numbing 
torture.  As I recall, in the end, during the aborted Dalek invasion of the year 2000, they were
exterminated live on television.  The world leaders nearly gave the planet to the Daleks in gratitude.’
The Doctor emerged carrying an old ghetto blaster and a CD.  He handed them over to Maxil.  
‘Take these and replicate a pair for each of the troops.  Have them play the CD upon encountering an Auton.
The hideous sound should block it’s transmission with the Nestine Consciousness.  
They'll fall over inert.  When every Auton has been neutralized, destroy the CDs.  We don’t 
want all the little Time Tots to get hooked on the music, eh?  There’s a good man.  Off you go.’  
Maxil exited the room.  
‘Now to deal with Rotiart.’



Outside the Museum of Alien Artifacts
The Capitol, Gallifrey

The streets were deserted.  They always were after an invasion.  For supposedly the most powerful 
race in the Universe, they sure got invaded a lot.  Well, that’s what you get when your fourth 
incarnation went around blabbing everything.  Ah well.

The Doctor approached the Museum.  He was surprised at how big it actually was.  Not that very 
many people visited it, though.  No, they’re too busy with administrative nonsense.  Never 
could understand a Time Lord’s fascination with paper pushing - even if it’s with data cards.

Slowly, he walked up to the door.  He opened the door carefully, peering around the edge.  
‘Hello?  Rotiart?  Are you here?’  What was he saying?  Of course Rotiart was here, it was the 
only place on Gallifrey he could be hiding.  Within a day of the CD’s first playing, most of 
the Nestines were rendered inert, expelled from the planet.  Their only stronghold was the museum.

He walked in and admired the place; the high ceilings, the simple yet elegant display cases, 
K-9 pointing his blaster at him…’Ack!’

‘Greetings, master-doctor.  Prepare to be eliminated.’ spoke K-9, his blaster firing at the Doctor’s head.
He ducked, his hat singed by the blast.

‘K-9,’ he shouted, ‘That was my favourite hat!’

‘Regrettable, master.  However you will not exist long enough to grieve for it’

‘Why, K-9?’

‘It is not of my choosing.  My programming has been altered.’ K-9 fired another blast.

‘Nestines.’ Muttered the Doctor, ducking behind the case containing the complete run of 
Professor X.  The magnetic tape spooled out of the plastic cases. The strands wrapped themselves 
around the Doctor’s arms and legs, binding him. K-9 advanced on him, raising the blaster at him.

‘K-9, wait!  Access system zero-zero-theta-sigma-four-two-five-four.’

K-9 stopped dead in it’s tracks.  A slight whirring noise emanated from it’s midsection.  
The light behind his sensor dimmed and his head drooped.

‘MASTERRRRRRRRR…’

‘Nice trick,’ came a voice from the darkness.

‘Thank you,’ replied the Doctor, ‘I put him in diagnostic mode.  I thought that some of Dr. Marinus’ 
component choices were odd.  I should have replaced them.’

‘Another in a long line of regrets, Doctor.  This, however, will be your last.  Get him!’

Several small objects detached themselves from the darkness and flew towards the bound Doctor.  
They attacked him mercilessly, prodding and stabbing him.  ‘Gagh,’ he cried, ’Rotiart, what are 
these things?’’

‘My army of sporks.  I really must thank you Doctor.  You, more than anyone has helped the Nestine’s
cause, effectively bringing them to Gallifrey and providing them with such…interesting…objects
to inhabit.’  Rotiart laughed, ‘But now, our fun must end.  Good bye old friend.’

The lethal white utensils gathered for their final attack.  The Doctor strained against his plastic 
prison.  I do hope my next incarnation is more athletic, he thought.  Just as the sporks were 
about to reach the Doctor, Captain Andred burst into the room, the ghastly sound of the Spice 
Girls playing from the ghetto blaster he carried.  The sporks stopped in midair, dropping 
to the ground, their link with the Nestines disrupted.  Likewise, the tape that was holding the 
Doctor loosed, freeing him.

‘Ah, Andred!  Wonderful to see you.  K-9 is here if you’re looking for him.  How’s Leela doing?’
A scream pierced through the Doctor’s speech.  ‘We’ll talk later,’ he snapped and rushed to the 
source of the scream.

Rotiart lay on the ground, clutching his hearts.  He was shouting at himself in two distinctly different 
voices.  One was his normal voice, the other was disjoined and sounded slightly artificial.

‘Leave, you are beaten!’

‘NEVER!’

‘The Autons have been destroyed, your spork army has been defeated, you are all that’s left.'

‘IT IS ENOUGH.’

Rotiart felt around on the ground.  Grasping an abandoned spork, he plunged it into his real heart.  
It was then that the Doctor reached him.  Rotiart gasped, ‘Forgive me Doctor.’

‘Of course old friend.  You were being controlled, it wasn’t your fault.  Killing yourself 
is the only way out.’
Rotiart managed to gasp, ‘Is this death?’ before slipping into blackness.

‘Doctor?’ asked an unsure Andred.

‘Yes?’

‘What happens next?’

‘Well, Rotiart’s mind should have passed into the Matrix by now.  We have to return his body 
to his House, so the Loom can reclaim him.’

‘What about the Nestines?’

‘Without Rotiart to lead them they’ll just dissipate into nothingness.’

‘Is it over?’

‘Erm, yea.’



Chambers of the High Council
The Capitol, Gallifrey

After Rotiart’s memorial, the Doctor stood in the chambers of the High Council.  He felt 
saddened by the loss of his old friend.  He always did, even if he didn’t show it.  Right now, 
he was talking to Romana.

‘Tell me Romana, what is my next incarnation like?’ the Doctor asked.

‘He’s nice, very sweet.  And young too.’

‘Young?  Ugh.  I hate young incarnations, they’re boring.  Never do anything.  Anyway, I really 
must be going.  I told you I be along with you in a few hours and it’s been three hundred 
years.  Must dash.’



The TARDIS
The Vortex, outside of time

Back in the TARDIS again, the Doctor had gotten a new set a clothes.  ‘These look rather nice.  
I like the red and burgundy.  I’ll just build K-9 mark III and join Romana on Holiday.  Now, 
where did they say they were going…’



The beginning of this story took place right before, and during The Terror of the Autons.  In the 
Doctor’s timeline, this took between Shada and The Leisure Hive.  In Romana’s timeline, this took
place between Goth Opera and Happy Endings.