In the old days, Leela had always taken the time to watch the suns setting on Gallifrey. Not any more. She could not see the suns, any more than she could see the red grass that she felt between her bare toes or watch the silver leaves flutter in the same breeze that tugged at her hair.

She patrolled the winding corridors of the Capitol late into the night, searching for the hidden dangers that were sure to come. The planet was as beautiful as ever, even in the aftermath of a vicious civil war, but Leela was restless. Romana and her few friends on Gallifrey were all that she had left.

Except for her friends on the Plane, of course. But she had not expected to hear any of their familiar voices here.

"... Oliver?"