I've decided to write my own set of Doctor Who drabbles, since a few authors I know have them already. Like all my other stories, I don't own Doctor Who, though I wouldn't say no to writing it. Spans all Doctors. And you never know, some of these drabbles may become stories, if so then please support me.
My collection of Doctor Who drabbles.
An Alternate Decision.
Third Doctor.
The Doctor sighed as he entered his laboratory at UNIT H.Q. It had been a hard week dealing with the Silurians, trying to make peace, only to end up failing. The Doctor knew in his hearts the fault wasn't entirely his. The fault lay with the Silurians and Humans equally. The humans; for building that wretched research centre in the caves in the first place, giving the Silurians the power needed to rouse their people from hibernation, for lashing out at the Silurians, for shooting them, for attacking them, launching an invasion of the caves, and lastly blowing up their base.
The Silurians were hardly innocent; they'd set a dinosaur loose, attacking potholers exploring the caves ( the fact they themselves evolved centuries after the extinction of the dinosaurs, and were able to clone them millions of years after such a catacylsm was hardly anything to sneer at ), driving people mad to the point they would regress to a caveman mentality and start to draw on walls, kill people like the farmer, attacking innocents like Liz who had been in the way of a Silurian, letting loose a plague, preparing to destroy the Van Allen Belt.
The last two had been the most difficult things for the Doctor to cope with; only his superior Time Lord ingenuity had managed to find a cure in time before anyone else had died, but it had been a near thing. By the time the Silurians had kidnapped him, he had written it out already, just as he'd cured the ambulance driver and just in time too, he'd found the Silurian disease had spread to another country.
The Doctor sat heavily on a lab stool close to the police box form of the TARDIS. He couldn't blame the humans, really, not now his anger had dissipated, but it brought something back to the fore.
He wanted to get away from UNIT.
The Doctor was convinced the Time Lords had sent him to this point in time because it heralded the beginning the invasion of the Nestene Consciousness, a being he'd heard of on his travels, but never encountered. It had brought him into direct contact with UNIT after that mess with Tobias Vaughn and the Cyberman invasion, and they had accepted the deal; he would help deal with the alien invasions and incursions, all the messes, in return they would give him sanctuary on Earth, an identity, and resources to repair the TARDIS. At the time the Doctor had been meaning to focus on the dematerialisation circuit, recover his missing knowledge of time travel lore and dematerialisation theory, but the Doctor had soon seen that the TARDIS itself needed to be investigated.
He'd stolen the TARDIS from a museum on Gallifrey, the museum of Time travel, and he had come from his last TARDIS test a failure. With the old Type 40, the Doctor had found that the two of them had wanted to escape the Time Lords, but the time machine itself had flaws. It's chameleon circuit was a mess, its navigational systems were shot, and a number of other systems were dated. The Doctor thought back to the last encounters he had had with other Time Lords since leaving Gallifrey.
The Monk owned a Mark Four TARDIS, Type 40 model. All marks of TARDISes were labelled, Type 40 Mark One, all the way up. There were dozens of Type 40s, but of different marks. The Mark Four varient had been a more advanced version of the Doctor's ship, boasting the latest and best advances in Time Lord technology, and the Doctor wished he had stolen the manual. He could have adapted so much of that ship to his own. When he'd next encountered the Monk, the Doctor had stolen the directional unit to reach Kembel to foil the Daleks plan.
The next Time Lord he had met had been more serious. The War Chief had used SIDRATS, basic TARDIS like machines to kidnap humans on the behest of the War lords. The War Chief's knowledge of TARDIS manufacture and cultivation had been more superior than the Doctor's, but the Doctor understood the techniques.
UNIT needed him, but did the Doctor have to stay with them?
With access to UNITs money ( the Brigadier had said the salary was quite adequate ), he could buy a house somewhere, and he could move the TARDIS to and from the place to UNIT H.Q when needed. The Time lords may have stranded him on Earth with his knowledge of the TARDIS blocked, but he still had access to his intellect. On Gallifrey, the Doctor's intellect had been average, but on Earth he was a genius. He knew things about science and technology because the Time lords had surpassed them all.
As long as he didn't revolutionise space travel, or anything that could alter history, the Time lords didn't care about anything the Doctor did, and he could do virtually anything he wanted. The list of possibilities open to him startled the Doctor. With new resources other than UNIT, the Doctor could also get to work on finally repairing and understanding his TARDIS.
He could repair the chameleon circuit, at last, repair the guidance system, refit the consoleroom and the other systems.
The Doctor smiled. He would do it tomorrow.