Fore word/warning:

Hello, and welcome to my story.  This is an original story I have created that is 
sorta of a prequel to my Terrible Things to Waste story (which at the moment I'm revising)
This story sets the stage for the next, so don't be mad if you don't see your favorite
fuku wearing heroines coming into the fray right away.
If you have any questions just send them to bdaly@ns.cois.com. Enjoy!



Timelords

Part 1: The Hunt Begins



	The sweltering heat of a Houston night didn't phase the party
goers as they stumbled from club to club guided by the gaudy
lights.  The whole scene had an aged feel.  The ancient trees
lurched forth from the sidewalks running along the wide street. 
Once proud homes now fall apart from neglect.  Underneath the
flickering light of a streetlamp sat a dirty man bundled in
ragged clothing.  His old hat hiding his long black greasy hair
was nearly as dirty as his beard.  The filthy man took a few
tries to bat away a few greasy strands of hair from his face as
the people passed by catching quick glimpses.  But the man
didn't care as he just sat there, waiting patiently.  The
drunkard's attention was drawn to a man dressed in a white wool
jacket and creased trousers;

	"Eeex-cuish me.  Could yoou give a' down man a donaishin?"  the
drunkard slurred as he got right in the well dressed man's face.

	"Why would I give you crap?" the man made a sour face as he
smelled the drunkard's rotten breath.

	"Pleasish?"  the drunkard's face softened and tried to plead
his case further.

	"Whatever." the well dressed man pushed the drunkard out of his
way roughly as he made his way to the night club just down the
block.  

	As the man turned his back and readjusted his white jacket, the
demeanor of the drunkard changed from slouched to rigid as he
growled soberly under his breath towards the man walking away.

	"I said please."  

	The man's eyes opened up as he heard this, he knew he was
caught.  As the man in the white jacket reached inside his
jacket to get his gun, the drunkard tackled him making the gun
fly out of his hand.  The man in the jacket was on his back and
could see the determined face of the drunkard on top of him,
meaning he was in trouble.  The crowds of people in the streets
made way for the two combatants as they went flying around and
through the streets crashing into anything in the way as the
drunkard laid down hard punches to the other.  

	"Someone call the police!  He's going to kill him!"  someone
yelled.

	It didn't matter as the man in the ragged clothes tossed the
other through a fence into a backyard.  There the fight
continued.

	Through a cracked window, nothing much could be seen except the
silhouette of an obese  man dressed in just his underwear and
T-shirt engrossed in the program on his TV as he squirmed in the
comforting arms of his lazyboy chair.  A loud crash from his
backyard made the man pause.  He looked for its source from the
safety of his chair when he heard another crash making the fat
man jump involuntarily.  The cursing of two men near by forced
the terrified fat man to go investigate.   As the fat man
reluctantly arose from his chair, two men busted through the
wall to his left and landed directly between him and the TV.  A
man with long black hair had just pinned down a beaten man in a
torn white jacket and had just grabbed the collar of the white
jacket.  The fat man could see the reflection of a long thick
blade on the right hand of the black haired man that was
position to strike.

	"ARRGGHHHH!"  the man on top screamed in anger as they were
engulfed in a bright light and disappeared before the blade
could strike.

	The fat man just stared at the rumble on his living room floor,
the only evidence left of the two intruders as the sounds of
ambulances and a panicked crowd nearby are drowned out by the TV
blurting out old jokes and pre-recorded laughs.



	The wind blowing through the sagebrush and cactus needles was
the only noise that broke the silence of the desert.  The heat
of the sun beat down upon the out cropping of cliffs, big jagged
hills, and plateaus scattered through the country side.  A gleam
of light appeared over the summit on one of the plateaus which
expanded and grew brighter.  It kept growing until two men
emerged on the edge struggling with each other.  The light
dissipated to reveal a man with black hair on top of another
with a tattered white jacket.  The black haired man was in the
motion of striking his victim underneath him with a silver blade
that grew out of his right arm.  The man below rolled a little
evading the strike making the blade imbed itself in the rock of
the plateau.  The black haired man lost his balance and fell off
the edge.  The black haired hung from his bladed hand awkwardly
and moved to face the edge as best as he could.  The man in the
tattered jacket got up and looked down at the struggling man
trying to get up.

	"Damn timelords!  How dare you attack me!    You know you can't
win.  The Society is now the new order."  the man screams were
echoed through the empty space around him as the black haired
tried to pull himself up.

	"Oh really, Fitsroy?  Not if I have a say in this."  the black
haired man spat out as he tried valiantly to pull himself.

	"You've been following me?  You're more persistent than most
timelords aren't you.  I guess I can now brag I killed a
timelord to the my Society brethren."  the man said as he tried
to kick the blade loose from the rock.

	Suddenly the black haired man saw an opportunity and grabbed
the other man's foot and used it to hold himself for a moment as
the his bladed hand melted into a claw.  He let go of the other
man's foot and dug the claw into the edge of the rock.  Fitsroy
fell backwards and the black haired man pulled himself up onto
the plateau's summit.  The man on the ground tried to get up but
the black haired man quickly put him back down with a
bareknuckled punch to his face.  He immediately pounced upon
Fitsroy and brought the silver claw to his face.

	"Now tell me who your leader is!"  the black haired man
demanded.

	"I won't tell you crap!"  Fitsroy shouted back nervously.

	"You don't and I'll kill you right now, ya bastard!"  the claw
was being brought closer to Fitsroy's face.

	Fitsroy now started to sweat a little looking nervously at the
claw just a few centimeters from his face, "Ok!  I don't know
much,"  the claw was advanced further and Fitsroy cringed, "All
I know is my superior's a woman."

	The black haired man put the sharp tips of the claw right on
Fitsroy's trembling face, "A name.  I need a name!"

	"It's Xendyte!"  Fitsroy screamed in agony as he felt the tips
start to puncture his skin.

	"Good now we're on a roll.  Who's your leader?"  the silver
claw pushed in a little deeper.

	"I swear I don't know.  All I know is Xendyte is my superior!" 
tears streamed down from his face as he felt the claw dig deeper
into his face.

	The black haired man raised his claw above his head away from
the other's face, "Thanks."

	With that the black haired man quickly brought down the claw
into Fitsroy's face with a low thud, before he could make a
sound.

	"Thank you very much."  said the black haired man as he cleaned
the red liquid shot with silver threads off his claw on the
deceased Fitsroy's white jacket.

	The black haired man looked around at the mountainous desert
from the view atop the plateau.  The black haired man signed as
he idly brushed away a lock of his hair from his face.

	He looked down at his wrist and pressed a button on a device
that looked similar to a watch.  The result was a blank screen
appearing in front of the man awaiting his commands.

	"To the members of the Counsule from timelord Tracer,"  the
black haired man smirked as his dictated words would appear on
the screen, "I have some new information concerning the Society."