Prologue

Summary: The TARDIS does her thing.

A/N: As this story grows into a series, I'm adding a short prologue to put things into perspective. First episode has been fully revised, with invaluable help from my beta, Ersatz Einstein. Any errors that remain are mine only. Of course, only this story is mine. The Enterprise and her crew belong to Paramount and the Doctor and his TARDIS are BBC's.

Time is in flux.

She was drifting in the Vortex, no destination set. Her Pilot was rested, content. He had resisted, again, taking another companion, but at least he was now somewhat comfortable with his memories.

A tipping point is at hand.

She could feel the meddlers. Puny linear beings, pushing against the boundaries of what's possible. They sought only their little ends, furthering their own little ambitions, feeding their pride and arrogance. They didn't know, and they understood less. Even if they did, in their presumption, they would enjoy the clash, right up to the point where it destroyed them.

It is neither the beginning nor the end.

Her Pilot knew nothing yet. She could feel him, wandering her corridors. But he had glimpsed it, and the portents it brought, and he ran. It could mean his destruction, and he was tired of war. But she knew he couldn't avoid getting involved in the end. The others wouldn't intervene until it was too late. And the longer he delayed, the harder it would be for him to survive.

The Focal Point is there.

The moment her Pilot activated her engine, she knew where and when she'd go. She had already ensured her Pilot would have enough of what he needed at hand.

Yet another little blue planet, in that most troublesome of all galaxies.