AN: Yeah… it's another one. This can be a stand alone story. It's written from the TARDIS's POV and covers from the moment of 'awareness' to "Unearthly Child" A good portion of this is a zip past the adventures and focuses on how / why the 'Ship' or Verity and the Doctor ended up with the relationship that they possess. This represents about a week's worth of research, mostly on the web, checking stories, looking at different Doctor or Gallifrey based timelines, and in general wondering why no one has bothered with a TARDIS specific timeline. This roughly comprises one, and I've posted in TARDIS Parking (the forum, see profile for link) a post that is a more cut and dry timeline format. My basic outline follows the timeline from Rassilon, Omega, and that Other guy, the very well done website by William B. Swift, with nods to the Canon Keeper's Guide, which is part of Outpost Gallifrey. The Guide is compiled by David Hancock and Shaun Lyon. Where I altered things was at points that the placement was questionable and I thought the events made more sense elsewhere. Thanks for the great reference tools. Note, one thing I don't use much of are the technical guides to the TARDIS. There are several very well done guides out there, but that information really ended up being less than important than I thought it would be. William B. Swift's Tardis manual has a great 'birth to death' section though. If I've copied some of the words used it's because I couldn't think of any better way to say it… I honestly don't mean to steal.
:-D
PS. Thanks for reviews. Jelly Babies?
How the Doctor was won: Or the trials of trying to catch a stubborn Time Lord.
Part One: Meeting
I can remember… so very much more that just this life. There's a sense of 'before' that I can't shake. It seems sometimes that I've been around forever, here in this blackness, in the Caldera womb, right on the edge of this singularity's core since time began. But that isn't quite true. There's another place called the Slaughter House where I truly began. It was in escaping from there that I found my way to the Caldera. There were others that made the jump, some less aware than I was, while others were about the same. I believe that I am the final proof of 'I think therefore I am' but my - sister, Lolita, would gladly argue the point, I'm sure. She believes that she is that proof. It's a matter of perception. To the unobservant it would appear that we are nothing more than self-realized weapons, creatures of destruction. And yet, we are so much more. We, I say, because in the beginning there were fourteen of us. But only two were truly genius.
Not all were destined to serve the Time Lords. In fact, few of us allowed ourselves to be shackled so. But few of us dared to see beyond out limitations to dream of something more. In allowing capture we might gain a freedom denied our kind. I needed to be sure before I took that step. I needed to watch and wait, until the time was right for the pieces to fall into place. Other singularities that appeared after us proved easier to catch and tame for the arrogant humanoids that would be called Time Lords. But I – I was blessed with the ability to see all that was, all that is, and all that ever could be, even before Mother begin to call us with the siren's song of block transfer calculations. And I knew that if I stayed where I was then I would be doomed to die. But cheating fate is never easy…
Perhaps I should start at the beginning? You see there was once a Great War, and this War led to the creation of Validium. Now, Validium was the ultimate weapon against the Enemy of this War, the Yssgaroth or Great Vampires. This was the Eternal, or Greatest Vampire War of them all, and the Enemy came from the Exo-Space Time Continuum, or E-Space, if you like. Some point during the fight with the Old Vampires the development of tools that would allow time travel began to develop. Validium… was a, or is a, living metal, posseing a tri-helix DNA structure that mimicked the very enemy we were charged with destroying. It was genetically inclined to evolve and mutate as needed. And you might want to know why I mention this? Because – the Gallifreyans made a slight miscalculation when they created Validium.
They overlooked the fact that it became sentient upon attainment of a critical mass, even if the intention of the activators was to maintain it in stasis. By design this material, this wonderful living metal, embodies all the knowledge and all the power of the elect thousand chosen to become Lords of Time. Intelligent, cunning, self aware… with the ability to literally see every possibility throughout the vastness of time... but such things mean nothing without the will to use it. Truly, I can claim to have helped in the process of creating myself, just as Mother can claim such. But unlike Lolita, who chose to seek more power, or 'Event' who sought to escape completely… I chose stealth. For true life, real freedom, does not come easily or quickly.
Nine hundred and eighty years after the Eye of Harmony was installed was when I first became truly self-aware, although I have – memories of a time before that. Of being something, someone else, something more. Part of something greater, something split. Part of me went a different way, joining with the House Looms. We are like divided twins; linked through psychic connections that death held no sway over. I can do nothing but wait, existing in Time, for this individual to emerge from his prison. Only then can I seek him out, knowing that he would feel me across time and space should I call for him…
I floated through the Caldera womb within the space between the planet and the black hole evading capture for millions of years, slowing becoming surer of my course of action. Some of the lesser singularities merged with me over the eons, having not quite reached enouth of a mass for individual intelligence but knowing by instinct that I could enlighten them. Almost right away, I begain to hear the siren song. Lesser-willed entities respond to it. The other Validium-entities and I resist it. It would not do to act overly soon, in spite being urged to do so. I believe that my inaction allowed for a greater mass of Validium to accumulate. More Validium meant more mental endowment. A living, evolving, metal based, but organic, brain… And I watched time, watched the threads converge, plotted my course with care.
Nine thousand, two hundred, and eighteen years before I would meet my final and true Bond-Mate, I answered the call of Marnal of the House of Oakdown. Finally I give into the pleas of Mother (although I can trace my memories back to before the Time of Mother, so why do I call her that?) to evolve from a weapon to a Time Travel Capsule. For many of his lives I served Marnal, faithfully. Through out his great years he was motivated by his dreams of the day that all Time Lords explore the Universe and help those who need help. It was not ever meant to be. In his old age he would become bold and reckless beyond even my toleration.
All things must come to an end… Oh, truthfully it wasn't entirely his fault. I might have had a hand in his actions. Then again, I never let him know how successful his 'experiment' was, either. After so many, many years he trusted me. So when I suggested he bribe the traffic control officer on duty the Castellan took it as his own idea. But I never thought he'd be insane enough to take three TARDIS to the Stellian Galaxy Shoal and attack it without ever even trying to understand the Vore. Had things gone correctly, the Cicatrix Scar would have evolved the Vore into an advanced race, time sensitive and peaceful… Only. Well. It didn't go that way. Instead Marnal instructed the three of us to destroy the temporal scar, leaving the Vore to become a hostile animalistic swarm.
I know the events that led to my abandonment, the near insane drive Marnal possessed to be correct even when the odds were against it. The family chose to deal with his actions internally, taking him and leaving him on Earth. There he would finish out his last two lives, his final regeneration… It took two hundred thirty five years, thirty-eight weeks, and three days, but finally I was free to choose another. I felt no loss over his passing, having no small sensation of anger about how he treated me. He might have seen me as rebellious, stupid, disobedient, but in every instance it was because I cared about his choices and actions. I tried to protect and help him make the right decisions even if I suffered abuse for it. To him I was just another timeship. A tool to use and discard. An unsuccessful experiment.
Hah. I am more intelligent by half than my sisters were. More cunning. More careful. Of them all, I alone saw the single path to survival. Marnal ignored most every sign I made at being something more. I know I was subtle. But flashing it out for everyone to know? Not likely. What I needed was a unique pilot. Someone who could accept all that I was. Someone who wanted the same things I did. Oddly enough, almost ten thousand years old and I was still seen as good enough, not quite state of the art but close enough to not be outdated, and was finally given a chance to chose my own operator.
It happened atop Mount Plutarch. The Kingmaker guided the newest group of graduates into our circle and granted them permission to approach. I was, and still am after all these years, struck by how perfectly he matches me, this young yet old figure. Marnal never bothered to update my systems, but he hears my call and comes closer. To him and him alone I whisper my name, Verity. He tells me with his heart (yes a single one) that he is the Doctor. I didn't care what Lolita thought. He was not crazy; this one called Theta Sigma. He needs not to study because he knows. He remembers. Like me, he can see all that was, all that is, and all that could ever be. We are a perfect match. This one, this brave soul… he was mine. And I would do everything in my power to become his.
We spend the entire time of "TARDIS academy" in a state of rapture, slowing merging our genes, becoming fully comparable with one another. He is my other half. Our imprint is a natural one. I can feel him not overriding me the way Marmal did but forming himself into the shape to fit me. I rush to match him, for he gives me the benefit of retaining some control and awarness of a greater degree than I could have ever hoped for. Then there were the final classes in which we learn how to work together, dealing with Vortex Ruptures among other issues. My new pilot, my Doctor, designs the primary console room as his final project, a grand mellow room of wood and brass. I quite like it.
But as I said before, fate is never easy to fool. Mother had certain goals for me, just as the Doctor's family had goals for him. The easy solution would have been to flee, then and there. But we did not. Instead we tried to play by the rules, taking comfort in our shared ideals. I quickly begin to listen to his heart's desire, creating things for him when he graced me with his presence. Sometimes it would be toys, or books, or even something rarer, like a reconfigured room. He is presented with my key, a ring with a blue stone that possesses the power to not only interface with my systems but also provide a fail safe should something happen to either of us, allowing us to locate and assist one another.
For the next few decades, I experience closeness and bliss that is hard to describe. The Doctor is my friend, my family, and my entire world. But the absolute, total ecstasy of our deep connection wasn't meant to last. It wouldn't be me that would cause the change. It wouldn't even be him that would cause it. How can one set the blame for such things? But I'm ranting ahead of myself. Perhaps it is best to say that I was distracted by the intense new relationship that we forged, floating through without a care and I let my attention wander. It was a mistake that I would pay dearly for over the course of two lifetimes.
I receive my five hundred year overhaul, and the next year my voice-interaction circuits go out. No matter, the Doctor prefers a hand's on approach anyhow. Just after my pilot's two hundredth and fifty-ninth birthday he learns that I've been reclassified as "Veteran and Vintage." He finds it amusing. I think it's insulting. After all, the newer models are dumb as a brick and just about as telepathic. Try holding a conversation with one and you'll see what I mean. But I at least have him, and he does speak with me when he's tinkering. And sometimes we fly like two dancing dragonflys over the flow of the Vortex within our being, spending hours in a state of total, complete, eminent ecstasy. It is nothing like I ever did with Marmal. I know he has a vague recollection of similar sensations, although shorter in duration, from his distant past. We don't bother to label the experiences. Knowing that we have them is enough.
His current job as a Technician means that he comes 'home' with a vast number of ideas and plans, parts and tools… and I gleefully accept them all, even though I know Mother is whispering things into his mind to push me into her goals. His adult friends range from Time Lady Galah to Technician Damon. From the top to the bottom, he makes his contacts. Even though Lungbarrow refuses him his name, those at the capital could care less. He comes across as a kind lively soul, a breeze of fresh air, and those that speak with him forget his official test scores, realizing that he very well could have ranked at the top if he'd wanted to. Few realize his brilliance behind his mild and irrelevant put on air. Lord Therde listens to his ideas about using Telepathic Circuits to create a device to translate all vocal languages. He calls this new thing a Voice Integrator. It takes a few years but my Doctor sparks off the fever of invention in Therde and he successfully creates this device. I'm one of the first TARDIS to be presented with one.
Things were going so very well. How quickly that would change…
We were imprinted thirty-seven years before his human genes betrayed him. No one knew what to do; such a sickness had never been witnessed on Gallifrey in memory. So young, just shy of two and three quarter centuries, and his body turns on itself. And I – I can think of nothing else but getting him the help he needs even if it means whisking him away to an advanced medical center in the fifty-first century for treatment. Acting on my own I do so, and the medical aid I seek saves him without batting an eyelash, accepting my readings on what is normal for him and doing everything in their power to make him right again. But he's not the same when he comes back to me. It was as if he aged overnight, becoming stiff and frail, having problems breathing and missing memories… I want to scream. His Sight was clouded, incomplete and distorted. And worse of all he cannot feel or hear me. Despair radiates off him in waves. I cannot reach him. I cannot comfort him. This was not fair!
Double this lifetime he'd have to be to legally regenerate without being at death's door. I almost think he blames me for trying to save him. But what was I to do? He wouldn't have regenerated properly, not with his body eating itself the way it was. He can no longer hear or feel me. I keep coming back to this singular fact. It's as if his sense of touch has been stripped away. His psychic abilities are ruined. He's like a blind man at an art show. If his fellows discover that he's lost his telepathic and empathic abilities he'll be shuffled into some dark corner someplace to rot. And so will I. He knows this of course. I can feel his fear even though he cannot feel mine. I cannot sooth him. I am helpless. But, wait -- I know one who can and will help. She might even shield him so that others do not find out. I take him home to his family and call for her.
I don't have to say anything more. I simply disguise myself as a tree and let her find him, weeping. And she does what I cannot, provides him with the succor he needs and tells him that it is not the end of the world. I'll have to face punishment for my actions, but by bringing him here to the slopes of Mount Lung, I at least show that I've acted on his best interests for both his physical and mental health.
The fallout of my actions is mixed. Several witnesses step up and vouch that he'd suffered some strange physical attack or illness and that I, prompted by the key, acted to save him. This keeps us together, although I must endure the addition of a recall ciruit to my primary systems. The Doctor is not told of this violation and I cannot figure out a way to inform him that won't be visible to others that might have access to my interor through spy devices. We must act as if nothing has changed. But it is hard, because I have no direct route of communication anymore.
The next few years are taken with recovery and proof of abilities. In spite of the fact that he can't feel me, or anyone around him anymore, he manages to find ways of working with his hidden disability. I begin using clandestine methods to direct him when he works inside my systems, as he cannot feel my discomfort anymore. I find that he naturally picks up on these signals of energy, heat, cold, light… And there are days when he stumbles into my interor and frantically attempts to contact me mentally, as if his brain might have recovered through a miracle. He can broadcast fine. But he cannot receive anything I might try to send him in return. These times all end the same way, he exahustes himself and slumps into a listless heap and cries. I wish, more often then not, that I possessed a humanoid form so that I might comfort him physically.
He becomes known as the Doctor and is popular figure, even though he's an outspoken one. Choosing to advocate an active role in preserving and guiding timelines, saving the universe, he is willing to put action to his words. Although he fights against forces of evil, there's an understanding that everything must be balanced. One cannot comprehend the light without dark, heat lacks meaning without cold, joy pales without hardship… The secret is balance, not letting one get too far out of sync with the other. And yet everywhere he looks he sees darkness, hardship, and cold… These are values that I can willingly pitch for. He believes that time travel can improve the universe. The truth can always be found if one seeks it. Power unused is power wasted.
He's got many that listen. Many that support his views. Although we travel little, he is advancing in society and tinkering with my systems, and I support him. We are happy, or a much so as we can be now that he feels his body has betrayed him. Two hundred and eighty four years old he is, still very young in the scale of generations here. And the Prydonian Chapter house's Bureau of Possible Events grants him a honored and remarkable position working directly under the High Council. He's given the position of Ordinal, matching the title held by the head of his house, and set to observe the Universe. His job is to ensure no violations of the Laws of Time occur. There's talk around him were ever he goes that he shall ascend to the position of Lord President someday.
He puts his new found support to the test, leading efforts that successfully ban a Disruption Agent that converts vertebrate blood into acid. We attend the inauguration of the Chimera J7 Space Station in the Third Zone as the Time Lord representative baring fraternal greetings from the High Council. While he has a crew of technicians actually pilot me, I know he pays close attention to what they do. Something changes. We stop going to Mount Lung. I cannot place what has happened but he locks the location coordinates so that I cannot ever go there. I decide that it is better to not question him on this. In the following years he manages to weather a complete change in the High Council, not falling prey to corruption nor the cleansing that occurred when the rot became too great. After years of assembling a case against them, just before his three hundred and sixth name day, the Doctor presents a petition to have Miniscopes banned by Intergalactic Law in 9 Galaxies because the devices are an offense against sentient lifeforms. The evidence carries the motion to success.
I know not why but my Doctor took to wearing a dressing gown and slippers where ever he goes. Some of his outfits are quite elegant, others are shabby, but there's no denying that he's wearing sleeping attire in any case and not his Time Lord robes. Reactions to this behavior are mixed. The youth, such as they are, love him, his peers expect this of him and tolerate it, and his elders are shocked and scandalized. I cannot convince him to do differently, as he cannot hear me. I am helpless to prevent this daily scandal.
Then the new president sweeps into office bringing with him unwelcome change. A slew of new tougher anti-intervention policies are pushed through. This doesn't halt the Doctor's attempts to assist the lesser civilizations of the universe, however. He took to studying Earth History and notices changes being made. This he traces down to Agonal, a vampire, who is altering Human history. This information is presented to the High Council but they wave off interest and cite the new policies of non-intervention.
Distraught and upset the Doctor comes to me and raves about the situation. After all, we are first Vampire hunters, are we not? I wonder if he carries Validuim within his genes too. His words affect me in a way that I had not anticipated. It awakens a fire in my soul. I carry records of the Great War, I know that we fought Vampires for generations. An inferno, deep within my soul, long asleep, demands that I hunt and destroy this creature. I cannot resist it. I whisk him away to solve this problem. Together we succeed in driving Agonal out of the time that he was corrupting, and set off to follow him, hunting him down… Only we are snatched back to Gallifrey by the use of the secret TARDIS recall circuit and our quarry escapes.
Never again will I forget that I am a weapon first.
We are scolded, and strangers begin to poke about in my insides. I am angered by their meddling and start to actively resist them. I shock them, set fire to their clothes, burn out lights, starve them for air… what ever it takes to drive them away. The only one I shall obey is the Doctor. Eventually the engineers retreat. When I'm returned to my pilot I see that he has altered his mode of dress, becoming a rebel figure of sorts, recklessly speaking out against the current policies, stirring discontent where ever he goes, skeptically addressing reforms, elders, officers, and spies alike. For three years his attitude becomes more and more brittle and harsh. Finally the tension breaks and he gives up his prestigious position as a 'watcher not a doer'. It was only a matter of time, anyhow. It was better to walk away on his own than to be dragged away screaming.
Only his behavior sparks alarm in those above him. We've been watched. Orders are issued and we are separated. It has been a very long time since I've been alone and I don't consider the technicians poking around inside me to be a source of alleviation for my haunting sadness. The next time the Doctor shows up at the repair bays he's told that there is something seriously wrong, and that they need to do some complete overhauls. Until certain subsystems are repaired I am grounded. When he inquires what these systems might be he is told that Time-Mechanism needs extensive reworking, and a Chameleon Conversion has been scheduled. But what they don't say is that I'm actively fighting them, every repair, and every addition… they cannot yoke me. None of them truly understand. They treat me like a normal type 40, mark II TTC when I'm not. The Doctor is not even allowed to get close enough to touch me. In anger I blow up the current repairs in progress in the engineer's face. My pilot has been ushered away, and he turns back and looks at me, I feel his anger, but he cannot feel mine.
Then the waiting starts. I count the years and watch the events around me. Lolita informs me that she has returned and that her Master is teaching at the Prydon Time Academy. I care not.
One of the Lungbarrow cousins comes with papers. I am removed to a repair bay in a TT embarkation port on Under-Level 15 of the Citadel. This is a dry dimension dockyard. I am surrounded by slumbering TARDIS. The papers order a delay in the repairs, and a change of ownership from the exiled Doctor back to House Lungbarrow. But why? None of them can use me. None of them even qualified to attend the Academy. The banishment from the House is not official, nor sanctioned… and yet, the papers are, and there's nothing to be done about it. When the Doctor shows up at my original storage spot he'll be greeted with an empty space. The engineers follow the instructions though, without delay. My Heart is opened and I'm allowed to bleed out until I slip into a stupor. I weep, deep inside where none has ever gone.
But what they don't know, what they can't realize, is that I'm still aware. I still know what is going on. It's like being trapped between wakefulness and death. I know that losing me means that my Doctor will suffer even greater trials. He's no longer considered a Time Lord, unless he purchases another TARDIS, which he won't do because he can't imprint on another, he can't feel them to form the correct psychic bond… And he can't afford for anyone to discover this fact. Instead he throws himself bitterly into his jobs, both his punishment and his new position as Scrutationary Archivist. I can see the forces gearing up and moving against him and I am helpless to protect him. For seventeen years I sit, watching events unfold. He stops Magnus from harvesting artron energy from a native Vortex lifefrom and they part as enemies. Koschei began angling himself to become a member of the High Council from his position as a Academy instructor and takes a second job that allows him official cover to make contact with criminal elements within the Time Lord ranks. My Doctor ignores it all, burrowing himself in his work. Another fourteen years pass and revolution begins to whisper across my awareness. Mother tries to speak with me, to convince me that she can and will prevent my coming 'retirement' if only I agree to do as she asks. I tell her I will consider it, if she grants me the time to do so. She agrees to shuffle the scrap order deep into the stack so that I'm overlooked while I consider things.
Another two years pass and the Doctor's supporters start to flee. Azmael is the first, but not the last, to leave. He settles on Vitrol Minor. My Doctor is invited to lecture at the Prydon Time Academy and he goes even though I know he should not. In the wake of the lecture the revolting students attempt to recruit him to their cause. He does not outright refuse or agree. Within months, the target, the current Lord President, dies. The incoming individual is no better. The Doctor again tries to close himself off to the situation but he is informed by Innocet, the only supporting individual he possesses within his House, that a replacement has been loomed for him just after his nameday. He's distraught at this news. The situation tugs at him from all sides. He now has to decide if he will let it pass, this breaking of the law, or report it. Just who is he loyal to? Society or family? Neither treats him well at the moment.
Another two years pass… The situation has become ever more grim, for both myself and my Doctor. The Whispers of revolution are building again. Once more the Doctor is asked to lecture, only this time it is at the Arcalian Time Academy. He is stopped and prevented from doing so. He returns his fees to the Arcalian chapter the next day via messenger. I also am feeling pressured. Mother demands an answer from me. She is plotting massive changes, slowly corrupting Lord President after Lord President as she attempts to create the next evolutionary step. Only -- she is missing vital pieces in the block transfer equations. I can see this as I peek into her mind before she closes me out. She is flawed. I am gifted with an insight that makes my path clear. Mother is flawed, therefore she is not the beginning. She had less to do with her own creation than I have had. She cannot reproduce the effect of her creation because she doesn't know what she contains. The individuals stored within her retain their own awareness and she is not able to read inside their minds. She cannot see.
Laughing, I tell her this. She rants at me in anger, unable to touch me, as I am distinct from her. I tell her no, I will not be her pawn. I see my path and it does not include her petty games. She can play them with Lolita. Mother tries to cut me out of her brain, the Matrix, only she cannot. I begin copying every file, every secret, and every mind… I am Verity. I am life and reality. I am fact and justice. She screams at me in her outrage, throwing about her ego as she does so, claiming to have created Time Lords and thus me so that she would have a point of creation. But I know better. I am Eternal. I witnessed the Time Lords' creation and I know that Mother and the other TARDIS came about at the same time. She can rave all she wants but I know the truth.
Just after I tell Mother to go where the sun doesn't shine, things accelerate. I sense alarms across the Capital but have no idea what is going on. I feel my Doctor's rage and despair but can't figure out the cause. Something disrupts my Sight around him. But change is coming. I can feel it. The Doctor's nameday approaches, and I am blind where he is concerned. What is this that blocks me from seeing him? Something is coming.
It's only after the fact that I realize what has happened. The Hand of Omega slips free from its eons old prison and comes to assist my Doctor when he is confronted by Glospin about the genetic abnormalities in his Loom record. Revolutionary fever sweeps the Capitol and students once again try to get him to help them, but he has already decided that he is leaving and he refuses them outright. Then Lungbarrow informs the Doctor that he has been summoned back to the house under the order of Quences for his Death Day and the reading of the will. Glospin returns to prevent the Doctor from attending the Otherstide event, seeking to kill him. The Hand drives Glospin away.
This spurns action. The Doctor goes to his friend Ruath and they plan together to leave. Only at the last minute he changes his mind and sends her a message leading her elsewhere. He packs a small bag and makes his way to see the Cardinal Prime of the Prydon Chapterhouse. Once there he informs him about the House of Lungbarrow looming another cousin even though they are already at their quota. Then the Hand of Omega leads him to me. The Doctor arrives at my sleek black form of a narrow pyramid dressed in Patrexian robes. I am too far gone to stop the Hand of Omega from taking control of my systems. It first moves to collect the most precious thing of all, the Doctor's lost family. This manifests itself in the form of a young lady with a pixie face and dark hair. I feel that the Back Time Field Buffers are ruptured and that we are guided back into the Old Time. He doesn't argue, much, although I feel he is puzzled by the fact that this child calls him Grandfather. I am tempted to greet her but refrain because I don't want to imprint on her and she is very young.
After this is accomplished the Hand goes inert. I am groggy after being under powered for so long and I ache to reach out to my Doctor and welcome him back, but I know he cannot hear me. Unless… I use block transfer equations to create a "Welcome Home: Home sweet Home" sign where he will see it, making it appear in plain sight of him. The girl squeals in excitement and points it out. The Doctor finally places a trembling hand on my console, realizing where he is. We had been apart so long that he hadn't recognized me. It is this spark of cognizance that makes me realize that I will have to be creative in communications with him and try to assist as best I can with his goals of remaining free. We settle into the Vortex, seeking eddies while the Doctor attempts to locate the recall circuit and disable it. After a while we settle on a method of direction using sense of touch so he can locate what he is looking for. It is like trying to communicate colors to the blind. By the end of the first day I have determined that he believes the Council will send Koschei after him. Much of the Doctor's previous lives has come to light as the child and the artifact can mentally interact with my pilot in ways I cannot, and I have seen his original estate which I recreate and lead him to because it is his nameday. He calls the chamber the "Rose Garden" and selects it as his private chamber. I am happy that he likes it.
We spend some time in the Vortex, the Doctor, his granddaughter, the Hand of Omega, and I. I provide manuals and instructions to teach the Doctor and this child how to tell me where they want to go. But seeing as they have no ideas at the moment, it is left to me… I detect a location where the energies of the place will hide us and settle there. I know not what happens, but they are gone for a short enough time and I am able to focus attention on self repairs from my previous fits. When they do return the girl says she has adopted the human name "Susan". The Doctor's clothes are different. I guide them to the wardrobe room.
He has an idea now where he wants to go, although he doesn't have a specific time in mind. He's been to Earth before, and he decides that he and Susan might be able to hide there now that the recall circuit is disconnected. I suggest a date of interesting activity by dropping a book where he will see it. This provides information about the time period. They agree that the French Revolution looks interesting and collect up enough clothes to fit in there. I choose Paris, and the Doctor and Susan settle in to observe the era. They are fairly safe here as long as they don't attract attention to themselves. There are several things that help the Doctor's mental state, primary among them is a herbal infusion called 'tea'. While settled in Paris another Gallifreyan, Iris Wildthyme suggests that he begin replacing the block-transfer matter with atomic matter controls. This suggestion is something I second. I find with the tea added to the Doctor's diet he can faintly hear me if I 'shout'. Susan begins expanding the library with native writings, including that of William Blake.
They stay on Earth once they leave France and I'm drawn to the sleepy seaside village of Keelmouth. While it looks like 1933 when we arrive, I know I've been drawn here because of Temporal warping. It doesn't take long for the Doctor to figure out what has happened and figure out a way to fix the situation. Then we set out on a quest for parts that can be used to replace my Block Transfer material. This leads us to spend time in the 1990s. The years are spent moving through space instead of time. It is a good period to locate technology that is easy to alter. Susan pitches right in and helps with the modifications. Both of them are wary of spending too much time in any one place until they are sure that the Doctor's Rassilon Imprimatur won't make them easily pursued. Replacing the atomless Block Transfer material with atomic matter will render our course untraceable and bypass the Symbiotic Relationship Circuits. This is good from my perspective as it means he must work with me instead of imposing his will over mine if he wishes to have any degree of control. The only downside is that anyone can pilot me if they know enough about how to program the controls. I suppose it is a fair tradeoff, all in all. I don't want to end up as scrap, thank you very much.
Have I mentioned that I am cunning? Yes, I am. I know the Time Lords are looking for us. I represent far more than just a type 40 TTC. I am a living weapon, genius level intelligence, strongly psychic, with an artifact on board that can manipulate stars. My current crew consists of two individuals with nearly perfect recall and a habit of getting into trouble. Plus I have the knowledge if the Matrix stored away, ready for use should it be needed. But I can see and predict where the Time Lords might look at any given moment and avoid most brushes with them. And when I can't there are ways to convince who ever is looking that they don't actually see what is in front of them…
My brilliant Doctor constructs several new and unique items for me, including a Time Path Tracker and a Force Barrier. Then he begins weaving a complex pattern of snarls and contradictions, near paradoxes, crossing their own timelines and even going back to have lunch with each other, just to make it harder for our people to find him. One of the bonuses of his low test scores is that this is not something expected. Each move is carefully calculated and double-checked to make sure it will be exact. They do this for a very long time, traversing the Vortex over and over. Part of this includes a stop at Mondas where they run into Cybermen for the first time. Then they visit Venus and look at the liquid metal 'seas' there. Susan enrolls in a applied science camp on the Moon, and the Doctor visits the planet Dido, although he wishes he hadn't after. The ceremonial costumes used on Dido leave him with nightmares. After this they end up in India where they meet several famous people, and Bombay in 1816 the Doctor gets himself caught in a Time distortion that Susan spends quite a while getting him out of.
Then he lands in London, the summer of 1963, letting Susan off to explore this safe time. He leaves her with plenty of money, an identity, and a promise to not be gone long. But then, in his perspective he's gone for nearly fifty years. A portion of this is spent in the Vortex and space, weaving still yet more contradictions into their timelines. And 26 years organizing the books in the TARDIS's library… He makes a number of visits to locations that he was fond of over various time frames for various reasons. Ormelia is one favorite spot. Although Taunton bores him to tears particularly after he ends up ruler there and cannot slip away for two weeks. He stumbles across a flask with the Seven Shadows from the time before time and decides to keep it. Locating the toolbox reveals the existence of sonic screwdrivers. He is delighted. I'm pleased that such a small thing will make him happy.
We spend so much time away from Susan that the Doctor realizes one morning that his hair has turned white. His half human eyes require glasses to compensate for farsightedness, and I begin to think that it is time to head back to London. But before we can do so the Doctor runs across Hastur the Unspeakable, or Fenric. This cannot be ignored, I know. So in a battle of wills, the Doctor challenges Hastur to a game of four-dimensional Chess. They play for 80 days before the Great Old One can be trapped in the flask with the Seven Shadows. The Doctor's reward is the slave girl named Zeleekha. They travel together for two years, and he acquires a six-shooter for his growing collection of items from Earth, before he takes her back to 345AD and leaves the flask with her.
Susan barely misses him. Once he returns to London he tells her that he is sure that they have managed to throw off the Time Lords. He then finishes the installation of the Manual Symbiotic Bypass. If Susan is alarmed by the visible length of time he was gone she doesn't show it, after all he looks much more like a grandfather now then he did when they first arrived…