This is just a small taste of a new story I'm working on. Just a heads up, it will be part of a series. All reviews are welcome!
Disclaimer: All rights to Doctor Who belong to the BBC.
Preface.
In the most chaotic dimension, in the farthest corner of the most disorganized universe, in the smallest of galaxies, in a solar system isolated from all others by ionic storms, there was a planet. It was nothing special. It was just the third planet in a line of spectacular planets. Compared to its brothers and sisters, it was ordinary, really. It didn't have the rings of Asmion, or the moons of Boinov. It didn't have the swirling ice storms of Orata, or the never ending fires of Ostichi. It was just a round orb of rock and gas with a singular moon. Nothing special. Nothing fancy. Nothing remarkable at all.
But for far longer than anyone could possibly remember, this world had been plagued by war.
Long ago, the peoples of this planet lived in peace. There were the old factions—the Humans, Time Lords, and the Daleks—who had been on the planet since its creation. There were also the smaller factions—the Sontarans, the Silurians, and a dozen others—who had dared to travel through the ionic storms to come to the planet in an effort to escape the chaos of the universe around them. A universe which, in all honesty, had been slowly destroying itself nearly since its beginning.
All factions who shared the planet made a deal. They would each claim a territory with enough land to sustain their own people, and they would stay out of the business of the others.
For a while, this worked, and so they lived in harmony. But then the world grew, and resources became finite, and the race between the peoples to become to most powerful faction began. But still, they lived without war.
Until the Dark Day.
No one was quite sure what actually happened. The only recorded fact was that all of the faction's leaders had gone to the regularly scheduled conference to discuss borders and trade and the like. It was rumored that, during the conference, a known assassin from one of the factions snuck into the hall and attempted to murder several of the leaders. However, it was not agreed upon which faction this assassin came from, and this was where the strained peace between the peoples began to break.
Naturally, no one wanted to be responsible for the—then vanished—individual. The peoples began to point fingers at each other. The Daleks blamed the Time Lords, the Time Lords blamed the Humans, and so forth. Eventually, the conference dissolved into chaos, and the peace between the factions disintegrated.
From that day forward there were only two rules all of the factions agreed upon. The first of which was that every individual must be marked with the seal of the faction they belonged to. The other was that any communication with a rival faction was punishable by death.
The leaders left the conference, and the planet never saw another day of peace.