There's a perverse pleasure in watching the butch Commander Maxil and his guards march his prisoner, The Doctor, through the drab corridors of Gallifrey, passing by coffee bars whose patrons look slightly put off by having such official state business interrupt their enjoyment of their triple-thick lattes. How far the mighty have fallen, Maxil must be thinking.
More to the point, why are there coffee bars outfitted with IKEA furniture on Gallifrey, anyway? Are we being treated to a visit to the suburbs of Gallifrey? And, if so, why? The meeting room for the High Council is also a dull affair, stocked with modest kitchen chairs and a tiny council. The Lord President also sits far away from the rest of his councillors and doesn't even face them. To say that Gallifrey has become a visual disappointment in the years since The Deadly Assassin is a massive understatement.
And if you haven't guessed who the Time Lord traitor who is helping "The Renegade", despite all the pen waving and vocal pitch shifting done to conceal the culprit's true identity during his darkened room dealings, then you're running out of people to suspect...
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