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"It is thought that the Summer Palace of Dar-Es-Buraq was one of the best examples of Yahanan architecture from the pre-unification period. Alas, the building was destroyed by the great eruption of 1402 BC, but sketches and plans still exist in the Braxiatel Collection, thanks to an unknown benefactor. The Summer Palace once belonged to the ancient ruler of the city - the Khalif - and was sited on the highest part of the Volcano rim overlooking lake Tisriin. In later years it became one of those buildings that governments requisition for no apparent reason and which remain empty for years. In this case it was the administration of Yahanis's greatest statesman - Koval Sontaris - that did exactly this immediately after he had masterminded planetary unification in 1564 BC. The irony that his great grandson would later bring about an equally momentous change to the planet using this magnificent building as his base of operations is not lost on this commentator." Attaché of the Clones, Sentarion Large Print Edition- Professor [name obscured] Summerfield, 2564The main banqueting hall of the Summer Palace measured one hundred and five meters long by sixty-eight meters wide. An ornate marble gallery ran around the perimeter and at one end, above the great double doors, stood an equally large balcony. Satav Sontaris knew that once upon a sunset the Khalif's musicians would have occupied the balcony. Now it afforded him a great view of his men, lined up beneath him in regimental fashion, and allowed him to address them from a point they could all see. 'Today we stand on the edge of a great precipice,' he roared at his attentive crowd of 250 maroon clad soldiers. 'A precipice into which must inevitably fall the dregs of our society. But we have a difficult decision to make. Do we allow the best of our people to be dragged into that abyss by the lawlessness of the majority? Or do we say that a fine line must be drawn in the fine sand of our noble planet's soil and we shall go no further?' 'No further!' bellowed one of his lieutenants beside him. Sontaris curtailed his urge to frown. He did not want interruptions while he was orating. The lieutenant was attempting to curry favour. He would have to be watched. 'Lieutenant Tynx has admirably answered my question,' continued Sontaris. 'Like me, he believes that we owe a duty to our birthright to ensure the survival of our race. We cannot let the criminal and vagrant elements of our ancient and magnificent civilization crumble away because no one has the resolve and courage to salvage our souls before they are cast into a living Styx!' As the powerfully built Yahanan spoke, he punctuated each adjective with a slamming of his gloved fist on the marble balcony, thrashing his audience into a frenzy of near-religious fervour. Sontaris continued in this fashion for some time, knowing that this was the turning point; the nadir from which he would resurrect his race and make them great once more. He saw himself as a visionary; a prophet with the ability to turn words into action like no other Yahanan ever had, nor ever would again. When at last he finished, he was met by an uproarious stamping of booted feet from the floor below. The noise came in a random crescendo at first, but then unified into great waves of sound, washing over him and saying 'you are right', 'you are right'. As he left the balcony, his two lieutenants hurried to his side. 'What are your orders, Khoja?' asked Tynx, still trying to ingratiate himself by using the archaic term of respect among Yahanan shaman. Sontaris ignored him for the time being, turning down a corridor that would lead him to his War Room. 'Laal,' he addressed his other lieutenant. 'What is the situation with the cloning tanks?' 'We have achieved a rate of growth that produces one soldier every hour,' Laal reported with pride. 'This is an increase of fifty percent on our last improvements.' 'As of this moment, the cloning facilities at Karbala, Yammamet and Subakech are working on the same upgrade,' added Tynx. 'And when do they report that we will reach saturation?' asked Sontaris. 'Storage facilities will now reach their combined maximum potential of 10,000 in eighty-one days time' Sontaris smiled. Soon a new race would be born. One that would bear both his likeness and his name… 'SONTARAN,' read the inscription ' - President Koval'. Nick had limped away from his meeting with the Doctor at somewhat of a loose end. He had come across a huge, palm-lined square at the centre of which stood this statue, atop an orb-shaped plinth. For a society that seemed obsessed by the round form, it was odd that all the vehicles he had seen were hovercraft and none had wheels that he could see. Stop it, Nick! Alf is missing, the Doctor's gone nuts and you're mulling over car design. He would have killed for a coffee. As none seemed on offer, he read the poem beneath the name instead. 'The past is over; our future combined - Sontaran's seeds are sown. Our Freedom and accordance enshrined - One land, one people, one home.' Nick frowned. If only he had "one home". He wouldn't get into these situations for starters and… he looked again at the poem. "Home". What had that fat Yahanan said? 'Come Hakim, we must get you, ah, home'. He did have a home and so did Hakim - the TARDIS! Nick started to hobble away from the statue with renewed purpose. He had to get back to the TARDIS and he knew how. When Officer Brakis arrested them for being vagrants the Yahanan would have filed a report. The Buliseye would hold a record of where they were picked up. All Nick had to do was get back to Buliseye HQ, check the missing persons database for 'Hakim', 'Nathan' and 'Alice' and it would tell him. Then he'd have to get some money - begging, maybe - and catch a lift. Simple! He looked about for the fastest route back to Buliseye HQ. Bleached stone roads surrounded the square and on one side ran one of the city's signature canals. As he considered his options, a loud and bizarrely familiar noise made him turn round. Some sort of off-road vehicle - desert pink with tinted windows - was manoeuvring through the pedestrians. Nick grinned as he saw that it had six big wheels. The grin faded when the jeep pulled level with him and a door swung open. A burly looking Yahanan emerged, eyeing Nick with cold purpose. Nick froze. The Yahanan had an unpleasant and bulky looking weapon pointed right at him.
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