The Adamant was an old vessel. It's deepest chambers had seen artifacts from some of the farthest known places in the universe. Tin pipes and erratic wiring surrounded the walls without any encasing, all slightly offset by the other, stranger, circuitry embedded within the usual.
This ship was important, not because of its job, but because of its pilot. A crew of one, without need for more. The last of a long line, and completely unaware of it. But his fate was approaching, a fate that crossed more than one reality.
It all started on a small, planet circling a young star in a small galaxy, a galaxy with something big at its heart.
"Oxygen atmosphere stable," said the ship board computer. The Captain had thought many times about installing an AI, not just for the company. After a few years the computers pre-recorded responses came across as insensitive, and the owner longed for something more human to talk to. Then again, he hated people. "Surrounding terrain safe for scouting."
"Thank you computer." He sighed as he added this gratuity. Another day, another highly illegal escapade into another race's culture for money.
The hydraulic bay door hissed, and the humid, dusty, air entered the controlled environment of the ships loading bay. The Captain was silhouetted by the orange-and-red sunset of the planet inside as he walked down the ramp...
... and toward a little blue box.
Smoking, some parts sparking and others barely hanging on, the blue box was sitting just outside the landing zone of the Adamant. It couldn't have been there the entire time; the computer would have told him if anything was around the ship. He walked over to the box and gave it a good patting down, looking for any sort of discerning characteristics.
Suddenly, the sound of clicking came from what could be considered the front. The man came around to examine the sound, but was too late. The sound stopped, and soon a door opened revealing a worn, disheveled young man. One of his eyes was blue, the other a bright red. His clothing, perhaps once smart and fitting, was now ripped and soiled.
The Captain examined his find and looked into his eyes. "Are you okay, mate?"
"What?" was all the little man could say before falling to the ground, unconscious.
The Captain didn't know what to do with the man, except put him in the ships clinic. Medicine was not the Captain's area of expertise, so most of the medical supplies had been either forgotten or replaced with simpler, cruder objects. The countertops, meant to be sterile, were covered with blood, bandages, rags and bottles of whiskey used for sterilization.
He didn't know what to do with the little man, so he thought if he couldn't treat him he'd at least make him comfortable. First, he removed the rag of a shirt the young man was wearing and threw it to the side. Several lacerations covered the torso, but appeared to already be healing. He stitched the worst of them as best as he could, then flipped him over.
The back was a different story. It was clear that several of the vertebrae were knocked out of alignment. Ribs were fractured at the base, and the neck was in terrible shape. It was a wonder this man was still breathing. He did his best to pop the bones back in place, and wrapped the ribs while he was at it. Then he flipped the man over again to let him rest.
What he saw was astonishing. The wounds that had covered his body, and even the ones he had to stitch, had all disappeared. The thin threads used to hold his wounds together were merely sewn into the skin. Nothing close to a scar was left on the man's skin.
This was all shocking, but the man was still unconscious. The Captain decided all he could do to wake him up, was to shock his body.
And what better to do that than ice water?
After a good drenching, the man woke up with a start. Immediately, he began to check himself, holding a frightened look at his company. When he finally calmed down enough to speak, he spoke. "Where am I?"
"What, not asking for your clothes? And here I was getting ready for my creepy act of the century. You wake up like this a lot?"
"Where am I?"
"Persistent. Well, to tell the truth, the planet you're on doesn't have a name. But if you want specifics, you're on my ship. The Adamant," he held back for the usual response.
"What do you mean it doesn't have a name?"
"I told you, it's the ship Ada-"
"No, not the ship. The planet."
"Oh. The inhabitants weren't cognitive enough to name it before the planet killed itself.We call it Terra 3."
"So, who are you?"
" Ah, now that's the million dollar question. Some call me 'Hey you!', others call me 'Thief!'. But my real name is on a need-to-know basis. What about you?"
"Mine? Mine's not nearly as special as yours. I'm The Doctor."
The Captain, paying more attention to his ear gunk laughed at this, "That all?"
"Yes, just The Doctor."
"Kind of on the nose isn't it? Well, to each his own, I guess. Where you from, buddy?"
"A dead planet... you wouldn't know it probably. I don't even know if it exists here..."
"Hmm... you okay, buddy?"
"Yeah, just realizing something I did... somewhere else."
"Well, no point worrying about the past. You're not there anyway."
The Doctor laughed a little at that. "I guess not. Where's my ship?"
"What ship? There hasn't been a ship on this planet for a few millennia."
"The little box. The blue one."
"That little thing? It's just outside. That's a ship? Looks more like some kids imagination gone wild."
The Doctor rushed to the door, oblivious to the Captain's protests about his back, and grabbed his clothes off the ground. The door was still open, and down the ramp sat the little blue TARDIS, barely holding in the planets fierce, sandy winds. The ship looked pretty beat up, like it may never fly the same again, if at all. "Help me get it on the ship."
"Whoa, whoa, hold on. Who said you're coming aboard?"
"Well... I just assumed..."
"Well, there you go. I don't want anyone on my ship. Too much confidential shit goes on in there; thief, consumer confidential shit."
"Well, you could just take me to the closest planet with a ship port."
"Can't do that either. I'm on the clock right now, and if I don't get back quickly with my finds it's my paycheck that suffers."
"Come on, I need some way to get around."
The Captain sighed. He may need to get back quickly, but he wasn't heartless.
"Maybe I could help you with your job. I won't say anything about it to anyone." The Doctor interjected.
"You think I can induct you just like that?" shouted the Captain.
"Well, I know a fair bit about the universe. Maybe it'll come up."
The Captain growled a bit. "Fine, but don't get in my way," and at that he began to walk towards a large expanse of trees.
"So, are you going to tell me your name?" asked The Doctor.
"Just call me, The Merchant."