Hello, thank you for bothering to check out this story. This is the first story in a, hopefully, long line of them. For those who like random backgrounds on fanfiction, continue reading. For the rest of you, skip ahead to the rest of the story.
The idea for The Alchemist has been bouncing around for quite some time. I have had tons of ideas of how to use his character, but then I realized that he had to be explained. So, this story came about. Each chapter is going to be rather short, 1, 500 words or so. I'm not sure how many chapters there will be yet, but hopefully a substantial amount. Anyway, please enjoy The Alchemist: Genesis and please Rate and Review.
-The Wandering Alchemist
Chapter One: Trouble
The sound echoed among the high ceiling hallway, something between an old engine running and a gasping, wheezing breath. That sound meant many different things to many different people. To some it was fear, death and hate. To others it was joy, excitement and adventure. However, no matter where it was or who heard it, one meaning never changed: Trouble. As the T.A.R.D.I.S materialized, the sound slowly faded into silence. The door swung inward and the Doctor stepped out. His eyes glanced around excitedly, taking in all that was around him. He straightened his brown coat, tightened his bow tie, checked his for his sonic screwdriver and closed the T.A.R.D.I.S door behind him.
The hallway he stood in had a high, circular ceiling. The architecture was all curved, even the support beams, which arched from the sides of the hallway to create a passageway. At the top of these supports, two more curved out in an opposite direction and attached to the ceiling. Everything was white, and had a plastic look to it.
The Doctor stepped over to the wall and gave it to hard rap with his knuckle. "That's strange," he murmured to himself. "It's not alianium or crosivum, this is something… new."
Reaching into his pocket, he drew out his psychic paper. A well detailed map appeared before his eyes, replacing the coordinates that had been there before. This was not something of the Doctors imagining, this was a message. From who and why; well, he was about to find out. He figured it was a trap, set by one of his enemies. The Doctor, however, could never resist a trap.
The Doctor set off down the massive hall, following the map easily, as the hallway he was supposed to take was filled in with yellow. The hall was littered with large semi-circle doors, all of which he could not resist trying to open.
As he approached the first one, he gave it a quick examination. No handle, no button, no panel and no obvious way to open it at all. "Motion activated?" the Doctor asked, "or voice?" After waving his hands in front of the door he suddenly shouted, "Pineapple!" followed by, "Raxacoricofallapatorius! He waved it over the door and then stared at it intently for a few seconds.
"Genetic lock…" he murmured. He gave a second wave of his screwdriver. "And a deadlock… a deadlock deactivated by a genetic code, and reactivated once you owner of the genetic code passes by. Genetic deadlocks…. Will surprises never cease?"
The Doctor resumed his stride, waving his screwdriver at every door he passed. "Deadlocked, deadlocked, deadlocked," he chanted as he received the readings. "And what do you know! This one is deadlocked too! I guess someone doesn't want me snooping around too much. "
He walked on. The hallway never seemed to end. What was worse was that it had no windows, just door after door after door. The Doctor knew he was on a space station, the coordinates made that clear. He also knew that the station was nearly the size of a planet.
A needle in a haystack, the Doctor mused to himself, except the needle is an unknown force drawing me to the haystack which happens to be a space station the size of a planet and the needle gave me a map to tell me exactly where to go. Yeah; there went the analogy.
At last, the Doctor reached the end of the hall. A door, slightly larger than the others he had passed, stood before him. The Doctor glanced at his map; it had vanished.
"Alright then," he said, nearly in a whisper. "Let's see what's behind door number one…"
He stepped forward, and the door silently split into four sections, two going into the wall and two going towards the ceiling. The Doctor strode confidently into the room. It was large, circular and mostly empty. All it contained were two curved chairs that rose up from the floor. One of these chairs had an occupant.
The occupant gave a series of clacking and humming noises that sounded as if they were some type of speech. The Doctor's casual attitude suddenly vanished, instantly replaced by a tension that was evident in his voice.
"That's impossible," he said. "I know every language; I should know what you're saying. Why don't I know what you're saying? "
"The universe is large, Time Lord," the thing said, switching to English. "Don't flatter yourself by thinking you know everything."
The Doctor sized the creature up. It was humanoid, but the Doctor figured it would stand about seven feet tall if it had not been sitting. It wore long, flowing silver robes and appeared to be male. His hands were long, thin and had fingernails like claws. His defining feature, however, was his face. He had three eyes, two in the "usual" place and one in the center of his forehead. The bottom two were blue while the top eye was green. The head was bald, or shaven, the Doctor wasn't sure. The Creature gestured too the chair across from him.
"Please, sit," he said. "It's not everyday I get to entertain a Time Lord, especially one of your reputation."
Cautiously, the Doctor sat down. "So," the Doctor began, "let me guess, psychic race? I scanned your station, no readings of a transmitter powerful enough to get a message on the psychic paper from this distance."
"You are correct, Doctor," said the creature. "But if we had such a transmitter, you would not have found it on your scanner. We are skilled at keeping secrets."
"I'll bet," said the Doctor. He was about ask his next question, when the alien cut him off.
"I am Jar'Keel," said the creature.
"Right, psychic," mumbled the doctor, "I'll have to get used to that." Speaking quickly, attempting to get his words out before Jar'Keel could cut him off again, he asked another question. "You misread my mind, Jar'Keel, or at least left a bit out. I was going to ask who and what you are."
"We are, we have been, we will be," said Jar'Keel. "Ah ha," said the doctor. "There's a "we" and I gather you're immortal. Well, big deal. It doesn't matter how you say it, but you're talking to a Time Lord, it's not that impressive."
Jar'Keel gave a light, harsh laugh. "You have quite the reputation, but your arrogance is… greater than expected. But I suspect this arrogance is because of fear, Time Lord. The Doctor, the last of the Time Lords', the Oncoming Storm! The legendary hero of a thousand tales is afraid."
The Doctor gritted his teeth. "Yeah," he said, quietly. "Yeah, I'm afraid. But as I told someone once, 'scared keeps you fast'."
"That din't help the poor soul you gave that advice to much, did it?" said Jar' Keel with a condescending tone.
The Doctor gritted his teeth and decided to change the subject.
"So," he said, "you must have some reason for drawing me here, besides gloating, that is."
"Quite right, Time Lord," said Jar'Keel. "We need you to assist in an… experiment."
The Doctor raised his eyebrows. He did not like the pause that came before the word "experiment."
"A strange mysterious force summons me to a planet sized space station just for an experiment? I never get this lucky," he said, rather cynically.
Jar'Keel rose from his seat. "Come, Doctor," he said. "I will show you the results of our experiment thus far. Trust me, once you see what we are doing, you will gladly support us."
Two sides of the Doctor fought within him that day. One was his old, battle hardened self that would never trust Jar'Keel, or nearly anyone else for that matter. The other was a younger Doctor; a Doctor who wanted to believe there was some good in the universe. The young Doctor won out, but not without some advice from his older counterpart.
The Doctor rose as well. "Alright, Jar'Keel, show me this "experiment," he said.
They headed out of the room and down another hallway. It was the same selection of doors, arched ceilings and plain white color.
"Well," said the Doctor, "you're certainly not picky about your architecture. The support beams look unique but everything else looks just… plain. I mean, if you're immortal, at least make sure the place you're going to be for eternity looks interesting. "
"We needed practicality," said the other. "The experiment is all that matters now. We have no need for things to look 'interesting.'"
They continued down the hall in silence after that, until they reached yet another non-descript door.
"This is it," said Jar'Keel.
"How do you blokes find your way about this place?" asked the Doctor. "I haven't seen a sign the whole trip."
"We have our ways, Doctor," said Jar'Keel.
"Ah, yes," said the Doctor. "Mysterious ways that must never be told, correct?"
"Something of the sort," said Jar'Keel.
He waved his long hand in front of the door and it slid open.
As they both stepped through the doorway, there was something the Doctor didn't know. This would be one of the defining moments of the universe and of his life. This would become a fixed point in time, a time when everything changed. The Doctor didn't know it, but he was about to change the fabric of the universe as he knew it. Why? Just because he took a single step.