I had a pretty good idea of where I was going, or at least who I was going to be picking up Celestia’s package from. Discord may think he’s pretty sneaky, and sometimes he is, but for the most part his chaos is pretty obvious. At least to me. Which made me very curious as to how I was going to catch up with someone who moved around more than a dimension crossing pony. A curiosity that I hoped would be satisfied by a door in front of me marked “Outbound Prep.”

“Hey,” I said, pushing open the door and immediately falling into silence as the insides of the room became apparent.

What I had thought was a simple room was instead an expansive cavern filled with devices, gizmos, doohickeys and whatchamacallits of all sizes, shapes and colours. The sounds from the horde of… things varied across the range of possible noises to combine into a cacophonous bedlam that pinned my ears back and threatened to overwhelm me.

I’m decently brave. I’ve stared down men and gods alike, but this level of mayhem had me backing up and away. I’d have turned and run, except a loop of magic caught me by the back of the neck and pulled me in.

“Ah, Courier James!” yelled a young mare with a yellowish grey coat, who oddly enough reminded me of Twilight Sparkle. “I’ve been waiting for you to show up.”

“What? I can barely hear you!” I yelled back at the mare, over the bedlam of her cavern.

“Oh! Sorry, I forget sometimes,” yelled the mare, and a burst of purplish magic expanded out from her horn, freezing all of the myriad devices in place. The contrasting silence was almost as loud as the noise had been. “Hey there. I’m Moondancer. Glad you finally got here.”

“Yeah, me too. Uh, what the heck is all this?” I asked, trying not to go poking at things. I’d run into too many things that poked back.

“Oh, Discord lets me run a lot of experiments into trans-dimensional theory. You can get some fascinating data, not too mention being able to interact with multiple versions of yourself can be just the best. So many insights into so many parallel ideas—” the mare kept babbling on about ‘M-theory’ and ‘topological manifolds’ and things that made my head spin just listening to her.

“Hey,” I declared, stopping the mare just as she was starting to speak in calculus and taking on a rapturous look that wouldn’t be out of place in church. “Aren’t I supposed to be getting outfitted for my trip?”

“Oh right,” replied the mare, shaking her head ruefully for a few moments before diving headfirst into the closest pile of stuff.

“Uh, anything I can help you find?” I asked, a little confused and trying not to look at the rather exposed rump of the mare as she sent various devices and gizmos flying.

I was born male, and despite my recent conversion to a female body, I’m still attracted to the female form. It kinda makes me wonder sometimes where I sit on the male/female/bi/hetero/homo spectrum. It wasn’t something I’d ever worried about when I was a human male growing up in middle class, middle America.

Sure, I knew a few people who were gay, and I was pretty sure that Ms. Lowry, the Social Studies teacher was a lesbian. At least according to the rumour mill, she was. But my parents always taught me that God looked at the heart first and the body second. So, if love was there, what did it matter what kind of body the people involved had? As long as there was love, God approved. Either way, though, my early years never even came close to preparing me for my current circumstances.

“Here we go!” Moondancer crowed, emerging from the stack with what looked like a flat, rectangular platform in tow.

“Uh, what is it?” I wittily asked, my own ruminations shelved for another time.

“It’s a mounting board,” the mare stated, and I had to blank my mind to shut down multiple inappropriate thoughts.

“Why does everypony go like that?” Moondancer complained, stomping a foot in frustration and bringing me back to my senses. “It’s a board for mounting your special shoes to your hooves. You know, so you can travel between dimensions?”

“OH!” I responded, and I could feel my brain switch back into gear. “How does it uh… work?”

“It’s super easy,” replied Moondancer, bouncing happily as she slid the board down in front of me. “All I have to do is put in a resonance crystal for the particular dimension you’re headed for, have you step onto the indicated spots on the board, touch it with a bit of magic and voila! You get a pair of shoes and covers that get you to your destination and back again.”

“So, no collars, no harness, no weirdness?” I asked, eyeing the board with a bit of suspicion. Discord loved his little tricks that embarrassed you once you were just a bit too deep to get back out again.

“Nope!” the mare responded cheerily, adding, “I can even make the shoes different colours. You got a preference?”

“Black, please,” I said, stepping onto the board and placing my feet in the spots that said ‘Hooves here.’

“You sure you don’t want something different? I can do anything,” Moondancer riposted, waggling her eyebrows. “Maybe something in a midnight blue with a lunar cutie mark?”

It was an open secret that Luna had “claimed” me as part of her herd and shared me with Derpy, something that had caused a fair bit of jealousy back when I was the first alien male that Discord had brought to Equestria. Especially in light of the seven to three female to male ratio in the pony nation. Since then however, Discord had brought in several more beings to help out in the courier biz, and I’d undergone an involuntary sex change.

“Just black. This time,” I answered, and it seemed to satisfy Moondancer, who smiled and nodded before applying her magic to the board.

The enchanted wood lit up with energy and I felt a tightening pressure around my hooves. Not painful. Equines don’t have pain nerves in their hooves the same way humans don't have them in their fingernails, but I did have the feeling that all four of my extremities were caught in four vices that had no intention of ever letting go.

The pressure built and built and built until I was about to start trying to break free, when it all suddenly faded away and Moondancer gave a satisfied nod as she examined my feet.

“Okay, all done. You can get off the board now,” the mare announced, barely giving me enough time to step off before she whisked the thing back to the recesses of the device pile.

My hooves sounded with a crisper clop as they hit the floor and I turned up a forehoof to have a closer look. The entire underside of my hoof and nearly all of its wall were covered in what looked like shiny black plastic. A couple of taps on the floor gave back a very sharp solid sound though, completely unlike the soft thud of plastic.

“What is this stuff?” I asked.

“Well, we don’t really have an official name for it, but a bunch of us around the office like to call it ‘Discordite’ cause it’s kinda chaotic like he is,” Moondancer explained, before looking at the clock on the wall and gasping.

“You’re late!” the mare exclaimed, pushing me to the door. “Oh crap, almost forgot.”

“Forgot what?” I asked, before I realized what Moondancer hadn’t forked over yet. “Saddlebags! Where are my saddlebags?”

“Here, here,” shot back the panicking mare throwing a mass of straps and leather over my head and body as we worked together to fasten it into place. About halfway through I realized Moondancer had grabbed the wrong tack. Instead of the gear being just my saddlebags she’d grabbed an entire work harness complete with horse collar and breeching straps to which were attached not my usual pair of saddlebags, but a full set of four bags. Two in their usual place just in front of each hip and two more on either side of my barrel.

“Hey, this isn’t my—” I protested, but Moondancer kept fastening buckles and shoving me toward the door.

“Go, go, go!” shouted the mare, and before I knew it I was out the door with the wrong gear on.

I had seen the clock on the wall, and Moondancer was right. I was running late and in the Pony Express running late was bad as there were specific windows of time when a pony could cross the dimensional barriers even with Discord’s help. So, I trotted down the corridor, getting the feel of the harness over my body and rolling my shoulders and hips a bit as I moved to shift the straps into position.

“James! There you are,” Discord said, as I came into the room. “You’re running a tad behind.”

“Sorry boss, bit of trouble getting outfitted,” I responded, as a couple of the Departure Room helpers swarmed over me to get me ready to head out. They worked on the harness first, cinching up straps here and loosening a couple there until I could barely feel the tack on me at all. After which they started dropping some interesting looking packages into my bags. Discord must have seen my wordless question.

“After your past adventures I realized my couriers needed a few extra things. Travel rations and a medical kit, guaranteed to work on most creatures. A way to call for help and a tracking beacon, so you can send a m'aidez and so we can find you if you get stuck,” Discord took a moment to take me by the shoulders and look me in the eye. “I want you to know how very sorry I am about what happened to you on Nirn. It will never, ever, happen again to you or anypony else that works for me.”

“Thanks Discord,” I replied, feeling myself tear up a little. “Fluttershy would be proud to hear you say that.”

“She was, and she is,” the big guy replied, smiling down at me and for a moment I could see the love he had for the Element of Kindness in his eyes. “Now get going my young sower of Chaos, before we both start crying.”

We separated, and I took quick stock of myself, settling all my new gear into place and checking it over. Everything seemed in place and I nodded my readiness to Discord as I settled myself into the starting blocks opposite a wall of the room that had a big bullseye painted on it.

Discord had a sense of humour, but no sense of taste.

“Courier departing!” announced one of the Departure Room ponies, who pulled down a ginormous switch that looked like it belonged in a Frankenstein movie. “Charging… ready in 3… 2… 1… GO!”

On “Go” I burst out of the starting blocks with everything I had and immediately felt the old familiar tingle of magic over my skin and fur. I accelerated over the scant length of the room in less time than it takes to read a line of text, the wall looming large before me. I felt a split second of fear that maybe something would go wrong, that maybe I was about to splatter myself against the bullseye, but a blink of time later a cold flush washed over me as I passed through the wall, slipping into the space between spaces.

There is no real name for where I was. During my time being laid up I’d managed to borrow a few books from Princess Twilight and do some reading. The name for where I was varied on the culture and the level of technology of whoever was trying to describe it.

Terms like ‘interspace’ or ‘dimensional vortex’ were interspersed with ‘ether’ and ‘spirit realm’ equally. I’d asked the Princess about it once and she called it a “Reinmaneian Manifold of Non-Euclopian Space” and then gone on to talk with words and terms that only Gandalf or Einstein would have had a chance of understanding.

Me, I called it the “Space Between Spaces”, and I thought it was a funky and exotic term that was way better than whatever the fuck a “manifold” was when it came to space anyway.

I galloped along, not because my hooves were moving against anything, but because movement here was more a matter of intent and will than anything else. Moving my legs gave my mind the expectation that I would be moving, so move I did. I thought I was moving, therefore I was.

One of the other things I loved about this space was how flat out beautiful it was. The whole of the cosmos was laid out before me in a rich dark blue, with various abstract concepts and thoughts made manifest drifted by in various lighter shades of blue. Equations a hundred feet high drifted by as I galloped on past. Clocks and timepieces orbited planets and stars in equal measure with the outlines of eldritch abominations.

It was enough to drive a person mad, which was one of the big reasons why I was one of only a handful of couriers for the Pony Express. A lot of folks just didn’t have a mind flexible enough to cope with seeing all of this insanity at once. As for me, I just galloped along, enjoying the scenery and letting the magic in Moondancer’s horseshoes guide me toward my destination.

Which soon enough became apparent as I felt myself banking toward a long swirling tube of energies that seemed to go on forever, and in a strange way, it even seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once. The tube grew closer and I braced for impact with it, expecting to pop out on another world once I crossed that energetic border.

To my surprise however, I passed cleanly through the wall and found myself charging along down the tube, which from the inside was clearly some sort of swirling energy vortex. I could feel the guidance from my horseshoes peter out, and I paused in my journey, unsure of where to go next.

It was pretty obvious I was supposed to be inside this pipe, but there was nothing around here to go to. There was a sort of gentle direction to the “feel” of the space I was in so that gave me two basic directions. I could either travel “up” against the current, or go “down” with it.

I was still mentally flipping a coin about which way to go when something blew past me, sending me ass over teakettle back toward the outer wall of the maelstrom. I managed to stabilize myself just in time to catch a glimpse of the thing as it hurtled onward. Just before it zoomed out of sight I saw a blue, rectangular box with a light on top, spinning merrily as it traveled through time and space.

“Tally Ho!” I called out, and bent myself in pursuit of the object, which in truth could be only one thing.

There was only one craft in all of time, space, and imagination that looked and moved like that. The Type 40 TARDIS that belonged to the Time Lord known as, “The Doctor.”

I’d seen enough Doctor Who to know that what looked like a simple call box was actually a massive craft with power and weaponry to dwarf most star fleets to insignificance. The TARDIS was a living ship that loved and cared for those who rode inside of her, and more than once she had worked miracles to save the being who had stolen her from the tedium of boredom and the slow decay of obsolescence.

Horses might be fast, but they’ve got nothing on a pony when he or she decides it’s time to boogie, and boogie I did, with my legs blurring as fast as I could make them move as I raced down the time vortex in pursuit. It was a following chase, and my quarry knew their ground well; but I was on a mission and I had magic on my side, so it only took me a few minutes to pull within sight of the TARDIS.

As I drew even closer, I remembered that getting into the TARDIS was easier said than done, but the magic on my shoes had gotten me this far so I decided to bull straight in and see if I could pass through the last barrier between me and my destination.

In hindsight, I probably should have knocked on the door instead.

I leapt forward the last remaining distance, enchanted horseshoes to the fore, and as I made contact with the azure exterior there was a blinding flash of light. I felt myself pass through something and my blinded eyes were somehow given a split second vision of not a blue box, but a vast city in space that was both ancient and young, terrible yet kind. My mind quivered at the touch of a truly alien intelligence that seemed to find my presence… annoying.

All of those feelings were immediately followed by a sensation of impact as I ran into something solid and unyielding, and found myself piled in a heap against a white ceramic looking wall was that was covered with round hollows arranged in a hexagonal pattern.

“Ow,” I said, rubbing my abused nose as I got up and started shaking off my rather poor landing. “Ow.”

I did a quick check of the bags attached to my harness as I got my bearings. Everything seemed to be in fine shape, and nothing had spilled or fallen out into the corridor I found myself in. The passageway was long and white, with a featureless door on each end about thirty or so feet away, so with nothing to choose from I mentally flipped a coin and headed towards one.

“Okay, let’s see what’s behind door number one,” I said to no one, as I arrived at the portal and heaved the door towards myself using a recessed pull bar that was only visible up close.

The door swung open easily and I was about to step forward when two things stopped me cold. The first was a repetitive deep “bong” sound, from some sort of alarm. The second thing was the massive metal man who suddenly appeared in my path. I looked up, and up, and up at what had to be about seven feet worth of silvery bargain basement Iron Man.

The blocky helmet looked down at me with eyes of abyssal black and said, “Inferior creature, you will be deleted.”

Momma Allens didn’t raise no dummies, no sir. So I was already initiating my patented ‘Get the Hell Out of Here’ maneuver of running like fuck in the other direction, when Discount Iron Man raised his weapon and opened fire.

Blaster fire wanged off the walls on either side of me as I made tracks back the way I came, arriving at the other corridor door in about half a second flat. Thankfully, nothing was on the other side of the second door as I opened it and charged through with the high tech knight clomping along in pursuit.

What followed was a lively chase through the corridors of the TARDIS with the alarm bong ringing in counterpoint to the clatter of my horseshoes along the floor. I was starting to gain some ground when a door opened to reveal another metal being that absolutely no one with any knowledge of science fiction would fail to recognize.

“EXTERMINATE!” screeched the Dalek, sending me ass over teakettle back the way I came. Straight back toward where the Cyberman was.

Panic rose in my mind, but something in my mind twitched as I realized I had remembered the right name for the Dollar General Iron Man. Panic that grew as the Cyberman came through the last door I had passed, trapping me between deletion and extermination.

“DELETE!”

“EXTERMINATE!”

“WAIT!” I yelled back, holding up a hoof in either direction to try to forestall the approach of my executioners. “I surrender!”

“Daleks do not accept surrender,” growled the bumpy pepper-pot.

“Deletion is the fate of all inferior beings,” quipped the Cyberman.

“Please! I’m just here to make a pick-up,” I begged, feeling that alien regard on me once more, and I realized who was really in charge around here. “I’m sorry! I should have knocked on the door. Just take me to the Doctor. Please!”

Both alien killers raised their weapons and I closed my eyes, waiting for the last searing blast that would take me to wherever I was going to go in the afterlife. But a breath later nothing had happened, even that deep reverberating gong stopped ringing and I cracked open my eyes and risked a look.

The corridor was empty except for a white disk that was floating about six feet up in the air. It looked like an oversized frisbee and was probably some sort of drone.

“Look, I’m really sorry,” I repeated, facing the hovering thing. “Next time I’ll knock, but if you just take me to the Doctor, I’ll just pick up the package he has for Celestia and I’ll be on my way.”

The drone shifted back and forth for a few seconds, seeming to consider my words, before something descended from it on a line of silver wire and I groaned in recognition at the simple halter muzzle.

“Fine, fine, I guess I deserve that,” I replied, and grabbing the headgear I pushed my nose through the front circle and settled the head strap behind my head.

As expected the loops immediately tightened up, forcing my muzzle all the way through the front loop, which cinched down to keep my mouth closed whether I wanted to open it or not.

“Erv curf,” I complained, and a quick burst of electricity rebuked me, followed by a sharper one as a reflexive second complaint burst out of me.

‘Quiet,’ appeared on the backside of the drone, where I could see it, and I got the message pretty quick. The damn thing wasn’t just a muzzle, it was some sort of shock muzzle. So when the word ‘Follow’ appeared on the thing, I made damn sure to obey.

I guess the thing got bored of my obedience cause after awhile the words ‘Head up’ appeared on the drone pulling along my lead, and from that point on every attempt I made to lower my head or look to the side was rewarded with a nice little jolt. Not enough to hurt, but enough to let me know that it could hurt me if it wanted to.

‘Proud Walk,’ came next, and it took me several tries to get what the drone wanted me to do, and I found myself forced into a high-stepping walk that had a whole lot of leg motion going on for not a whole lot of distance covered.

It wasn’t until ‘Tail High’ was flashed to me that I realized what the hell was going on. The damn thing was actually some sort of automated walker for training show ponies or similar, and lucky me, I was being trained to walk like I was competing in a show.

I was tempted to fight it, or at least snark back, but the thing had made it pretty clear what the rules were and truth be told I was sort of seeing things from the perspective of the TARDIS, who I was 99% sure was in charge of the thing. This was her way of getting back at the uppity beast that had crashed in on her in the middle of the time vortex.

So, I let myself be led around like a show pony until at long last, we reached the control room. Despite keeping my head up and my eyes toward the drone as required, I still could make out much of the organic interior of the room, with its tree-like supports and arched brass dome.

“Doctor,” called out a female voice, that I dared not turn my head towards. “I didn’t know you had any pets.”

“Sorry what, Martha? I’m just having a look at the energy levels,” replied a male voice with a mild Scottish accent.

“Oh, let’s have a look at you then,” the woman said, and the drone’s sign flashed, ‘Stand for Inspection.’

So I held still as I felt hands come in contact with me, running all over my body and tracing the lines of my spine and legs in what felt like a clinical manner.. Each of my legs were lifted in turn and the range of motion in each of my joints were explored, stopping immediately whenever I made a noise of discomfort. A noise which thankfully went unpunished by the muzzle.

“Are you for real?” the woman asked, moving into view and tilting my chin up to look into my eyes. She was a lovely woman of color with wide and curious eyes under night black hair held up in a tight ponytail. “There is no way you can be real. Nothing has that kind of flexibility in all of its leg joints. Nothing.”

I tried to mutter something, but this time the muzzle did kick in; letting me know that while involuntary noises were allowed, deliberate ones were not.

“Hang on. Did that thing just shock you?” the woman asked, indignation in her voice as she noticed my reaction to the admittedly low-powered zap. “Doctor! Why the hell do you have your pet in a shock collar?”

“Eh Martha?” asked the male voice, who I assumed to be the Doctor. “What?”

“Why, do you have, your pet, in a barbaric thing like a shock collar?” the woman, whose name was apparently Martha, asked again with increasing anger in her voice.

“First of all Martha, I don’t have any pets,” began the Doctor, and I could hear the rattling of something being put away. “And secondly, if I did, I certainly wouldn’t keep them in a…. Oh.”

“Right, so explain this… this fake pony pet you have here, and why it’s fitted with a shock collar,” Martha demanded, extending a hand towards me and I couldn’t help but smile. This woman had never met me before this very moment and here she was, instantly leaping to my defence.

“Wellll, first off, that’s an Osumaran training muzzle she’s wearing. The Osumaran’s are very big on proper deportment for their fashion models,” answered the man, moving into view. He was a lean fellow with a shock of wild brown hair over dark eyes and wearing a blue suit with red running shoes, of all things.

“Fashion models?” Martha fired back, standing up to confront the Doctor. “What are these Osumaran’s, some kind of space horse abusers?”

“Actually,” the Doctor replied, rubbing the back of his head and grimacing slightly, “they are a race of space horses.”

“What?” Martha asked, head rocking back in surprise. “Space horses? Real, actual space horses?”

“Oh yes, highly intelligent too,” the Doctor replied. “Which makes me wonder why a member of Equus Sapiens Equester is wearing one of their filly training muzzles.”

“I don’t know that genus,” Martha admitted.

“Equestrian pony,” explained the Doctor, fishing out a small shining wand that I recognized from the pocket of his suit jacket. “The Osumaran’s fit prospective models with these as fillies to teach them how to stand and walk and so on. I mean, you’ve seen fashion models on Earth. You can’t tell me that the way any of them move is natural.”

“It still doesn’t excuse this poor thing getting zapped every time she doesn’t obey,” Martha insisted as the sonic screwdriver whirred as the Doctor passed it over me.

“Oh these are some interesting readings. Artron energy? Dynamic quantum level bio-resequencing? Lingering signs of paradox destabilization?” muttered the Doctor in rapid succession, utterly fascinated by what he was seeing.

“Doctor, are you going to get this inhumane thing off him or do I have to do it?” Martha demanded, regaining the Doctor’s attention.

“Oh, right. Sorry about that,” he said, and the sonic screwdriver whirred again and a moment later the muzzle popped off of me and was immediately withdrawn into the drone, which moved away to a discreet distance.

“Mmhm, thanks,” I said, stretching my jaws a bit, and moving them around after their period of enforced immobility.

“It talks!” Martha exclaimed, swiftly followed by, “I mean, you talk.”

“Heh, all good Ma’am,” I assured her. “James Allens, Equestrian Pony Express.”

“Hello James,” said the Doctor, reaching out and shaking a forehoof. “I’m the Doctor, and this is Martha Jones, and how did you get on board my TARDIS in mid flight?”

“With these,” I said, giving the Doctor a closer look at one of my shoes. “Enchanted horseshoes, guaranteed to pierce any dimensional barrier between me and my destination.”

“Ah, so you’re why the TARDIS was unhappy earlier,” commented the Doctor, with a slightly disapproving look.

“Yeah, that’s my bad. I should have knocked on the door instead of just bulling my way on through. Sorry,” I replied, putting on my best apologetic face. “I gotta say, it really scared the crap out of me having a cyberman and a dalek chase me through the TARDIS.”

“WHAT?” shouted Martha. “Doctor, are we in danger? Is there—”

“Nothing to worry about,” the Doctor smoothly interrupted. “Just time echoes that the TARDIS used to defend herself with. I suspect she viewed young James here as something of an unwelcome intruder.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” I added sheepishly. “It’s why I didn’t really complain about that muzzle either. Figured I deserved it for bashing my way in.”

“That’s no excuse to let yourself be abused,” Martha said, in a much milder tone. I could tell she was realizing there was a lot going on she didn’t know about, so she was stating her position but leaving it open enough to be corrected.

“Well, I’m an earth pony and between that and my fur, I barely felt anything,” I replied, sticking my tongue out at the drone just ‘cause it felt good.

“Plus it helps that you’re a big ball of… everything,” added the Doctor. “You know you read as pony and human, male and female both.”

“That’s because I am, er was, whatever,” I said, completely confusing both the Doctor and Martha.

“Captain Jack would love to meet you, I bet,” mused the Time Lord.

“I bet,” I laughed, thinking of the omnisexual Time Agent. “Anyway, as for the reason I’m here.”

“Yeah, why are you here?” Martha asked, and I could see that incredible curiosity fire up again.

“I’m here to pick up a package,” I said, and both the humans in the room looked at each in confusion. “For Princess Celestia. Some tea, I think?”

“Oh! Oh right! Pentraxian Basimato. I’d forgotten all about it,” exclaimed the Doctor, his face lighting up and he bounded upwards, filled with energy. “I’ll be right back.”

The Doctor got all of about three steps before he did a sudden U-turn towards the command console, and flipped several switches before hustling off.

“So… James, was it?” Martha asked, kneeling down so she could look me eye to eye. “Sorry about the animal comment earlier.”

“Ah, it’s all good,” I assured her, waving a hoof at her. “At least you didn’t try to ride me!”

“Oh God, no,” laughed the woman. “I’d have squashed you.”

“Here we go then,” called the Doctor, dashing back into the room with a large and fragrant smelling box under one arm. “Pentraxian Basimato. One of the rarest teas in the universe.”

“What makes it so rare?” Martha asked.

“Pentrax Prime is a planet that exists in a stable gravity pocket near a black hole,” the Doctor answered. “Life there has evolved to take advantage of its unique blend of radiation and gravitational shifts. Making any tea leaves grown there equally unique. Tell Celestia I’ll see her and her sister for tea soon.”

“Will do,” I replied, tucking the package into one of the larger bags on my harness.

“We’re going to be landing in Cardiff shortly, did you want to hop off there?” the Doctor asked, going back and checking the controls.

“Cardiff, why are we stopping there?” Martha inquired, leaving me to lean over the controls as well.

“Well, the TARDIS used a fair bit of energy generating those time echoes to chase James around a bit,” replied the Doctor. “Cardiff is built on a rift in time and space, just like California and the San Andreas fault. The rift bleeds energy. Every now and then I have to stop, open up the engines, let them absorb the energy and use it as fuel.”

“So it’s a pit stop!” Martha exclaimed in understanding.

“Exactly,” said the Doctor, approvingly. “Should only take about twenty seconds. Enough time for our pony passenger to hop off.”

“Not my Earth,” I commented, shaking my head. “Be better if I jump out mid-flight, but I’ll use the door this time.”

“Huh,” noted the Doctor, as he checking his instruments when the sounds of the TARDIS came to an abrupt halt half a minute later. “The rift’s been active.”

“Hang on,” objected Martha. “Wasn’t there an earthquake in Cardiff a couple of years ago?”

“Bit of trouble with the Slitheen,” replied the Time Lord, and I started to get a heavy feeling of deja vu. I’d seen this moment on TV, but damned if I could remember what came next.

“Long time ago,” continued the Doctor, looking up in reflection. “Lifetimes. I was a different man back then.”

“Hey Doctor, you might want to—” I tried to interject, before the Doctor bounced back to attention at an indicator.

“There we go, all powered up,” declared the Time Lord, throwing various switches that started the TARDIS up again. The wheezing and groaning sound that every Whovian knew and loved filled the space. “And we’re off!”

No sooner had the words come out of his mouth when a mighty crash shook the TARDIS and everything lurched to one side then the other, as the mighty craft began to battle some invisible force.

“What’s wrong?”yelled Martha, grabbing onto a console rail and me, as I started to tumble on by.

“I don’t know, but we’re accelerating,” replied the Doctor, looking at his controls in astonishment. “Destination is set for the year five billion, five trillion… One hundred trillion!”

“What comes then?” Martha asked, clutching both the railing and me in desperation.

“The end of the universe,” gasped the Doctor, his eyes suddenly focusing on me. “But at least I can get you out of here.”

“No, wait. It’s cool,” I tried to gasp out.

“Sorry, no time,” stated the Doctor, aiming his screwdriver at me and I heard the words “Emergency teleport” as the device whirred once more and the walls of the TARDIS faded around me, to be replaced by the swirling energies of the time vortex.

I had just enough time to see the blue box rocket out of sight, and I was honestly shocked to catch a glimpse of a man clinging to its exterior for dear life. His cry of “DOCTOOOOOOOOOORRRR” echoed for long seconds even after both man and machine disappeared into the distance, and it gave me the final piece of the puzzle.

The man was the earlier mentioned Captain Jack Harkness, and his grabbing hold of the TARDIS was sending all of them to Utopia, at a time just before the final heat death of the universe. I considered heading after them. I knew where they were going and I was pretty sure I could probably use the time vortex to get me there.

But that wasn’t my job. My job was to pick up and deliver packages, and sow a little chaos into the multiverse as I did so. Pushing back that final death of all things just a little more with each trip.

“Just remember Doctor,” I said into the whirling ether, as I turned for home. “You. Are. Not. Alone.”

And neither was I.

Author's Note

James is a good courier, but he really tends to act first and think later. Also, a couple of links from Dr. Who :

Osumarans

On his list of future deliveries, James currently has:

• Normandy SR-2
• Tyson Rios
• Hogwarts
• John-117
• The Winchester brothers

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