Moment Nine
Throughout his travels in time and space, the Doctor had never attempted to contact his own people, the Time Lords. He dared not, knowing they would not look favourably on what he had been doing since leaving Gallifrey. For not only had he taken a TARDIS without permission, he had repeatedly become involved in the affairs of others. And that was something which a Time Lord was strictly forbidden to do.
In the end, however, he'd had no choice. During their travels, he, Jamie and Zoe had landed in what at first appeared to be the trenches of World War I, except it soon turned out that they were not even on Earth. One of his fellow Time Lords was assisting a race of warlike humanoids, taking soldiers from Earth's many wars (up to the early 20th Century) and bringing them to a planet where they were to be turned into the ultimate army and used to conquer the galaxy. Though the Doctor, Jamie and Zoe, aided by some of the kidnapped soldiers, had tried to put a stop to all this, the situation was impossible to sort out without help from the Time Lords. So, well aware of the consequences, the Doctor had sent them a message.
Now, Jamie and Zoe had been sent back to their own times, their memories of their travels with the Doctor erased. And the Doctor had been put on trial, charged with interfering in the affairs of other peoples and planets. In response, he had shown his fellow Time Lords some of the evils he had been fighting - Quarks, Yeti, Cybermen, Ice Warriors, Daleks . . .
But, for all his passionate attempts to defend his actions, the outcome of his trial was perhaps inevitable.
Banishment. He was being exiled to Earth, confined to one point in time and space. Not only that, he was going to be forced to regenerate and, since he'd found fault with all the faces he'd been shown, his fellow Time Lords had told him they would choose his new face for him. And, whatever face they chose, he would be stuck with it until the next time he regenerated, stuck with a face he'd had no say in selecting. The whole idea was outrageous. It was better than some of the penalties the Time Lords could have imposed, but it was still outrageous.
Now, hearing his own voice shouting the word "no" over and over, the Doctor spiralled through the Time Vortex, not knowing what he would look like when he emerged . . . Suddenly, he landed on a rather solid surface with a rather hard bump. Winded, he lay still for a moment before sitting up and looking down at his hands; they appeared unchanged, but that didn't mean his face was unchanged as well. A quick search through his pockets produced a small mirror and a quick glance in the mirror revealed a slightly clownish face with a mop of dark hair. He had not changed at all.
What was going on here? Had the Time Lords changed their minds? Moments later, the Doctor received his answer as the voice of one of the three Time Lords who had presided over his trial echoed through the room. "Doctor, it has been decided that you will be given one last chance. Your appearance will not be changed and you will be allowed to continue your travels."
The Doctor began to thank the Time Lord, only to be cut off in mid-sentence.
"Providing you agree to the following conditions. There are races who seek to steal our knowledge, but our policy of non-interference makes it difficult for us to take action. But, if you will act as our agent - unofficially, of course - we can prevent unnecessary damage to the space-time continuum. However, should you fail to keep to these terms, the original sentence of the tribunal will be carried out immediately, regardless of where you are in time and space."
"Yes, of course," the Doctor said, standing up and taking his position at the TARDIS console. A position he had taken many times before.
