Death of the Doctor
The barrel of Xkitor's massive cannon seemed to glow as it was charged up. The communicator cracked loudly as it was crushed in Usahn's closing fist. There were many rumours that the Doctor had heard about the final moments before death: the apparent slowing of time, your life flashing before your eyes, a heightened awareness of all the minor events happening around you. He had experienced them all before, on the advent of his regenerations, but he had no more left.
He was already experiencing the slowing of time and heightened senses, but no flashbacks, that gave him hope. While they stayed away this would remain a simple near death experience, he could yet survive.
[Flashback]
"What shall we call him?" Dominica asked.
Several months had passed since their adventure on Thoruxa Medio had reached its conclusion and her pregnancy was no longer invisible; there was a very clear bulge on her belly. Theta looked up at her from the armchair he was sat on.
"Who?" He asked. She patted her belly. "Oh, him? How do you know it's going to be a he?" He questioned.
"I know," she replied cryptically. "So, what are we going to call him?"
"I don't know," he shrugged, "I haven't really thought about it."
She grinned and waddled over to the bookcase. "It won't be long now," she said, "we need to be prepared for when the time comes."
"I know," he replied. "That's why I'm reading this." He held up the book he had been reading, it was a very in depth study of pregnancy and childbirth.
"Ooh, actual study?" She asked in mock surprise. "Next thing you know people will be calling you Doctor Lungbarrow."
He visibly winced at the use of his family name, Dominica didn't see it as her back was turned but felt his distress through their psychic link and instantly felt guilty. Not long ago she had managed to get the long range transmitter working allowing them to get news from Gallifrey for the first time since their departure. It had not been pleasant for Theta. The scandal caused by their flight had been made much worse because of Theta's high family status, house Lungbarrow was once highly regarded, now it was shunned by the others. His mother had been dismissed from her post on the council, no one wanted a councillor who's offspring turned renegade; not to mention the scandalous disappearance of her husband, Lord Lungbarrow all those decades ago. Just the mention of the name Lungbarrow was enough to remind Theta of shame that he had caused.
Dominica found the book that she had been looking for and pulled it out. "Well this should help us decide," she said plonking it on his lap, "people of Earth use it when naming their babies."
"Earth," Theta muttered, "should have known it would be Earth. There are far more interesting worlds out there than Earth you... This is an atlas."
"It is Doctor," she replied.
He raised his eyebrows at the use of the term Doctor but made no comment. "People of Earth use an atlas to name their babies?!" he exclaimed. "You're winding me up."
"No I'm serious," she insisted, "though, to be fair they only do it in one community."
"One community," he said sceptically. "Now where would that be?"
"Wimbledon," she said, being careful to keep a straight face.
"Wimbledon? Who on Earth in Wimbledon use..." He trailed off as a realisation dawned. He groaned loudly. "You're talking about the Wombles again aren't you."
"Correctamundo!" She squealed.
He rolled his eyes. "You do realise that the Wombles aren't real don't you?"
"Alright then Mr. Grumpy," she pouted, "do you have any ideas as to what we are going to call our child."
He squirmed in his seat slightly. "Well I always liked the name Tejana," he mumbled.
"That's a girl's name," she chided, "we're having a boy."
"Alright then, we'll do it the Womble way," he conceded. "But if it does turn out to be a girl I want her to be called Tejana."
"It won't be a girl," Dominica said with certainty, "but if we do ever have a girl later on I will let you name her Tejana if you really want."
"Ok," he smiled. "Let's do this." He flicked the atlas open to a random page and pointed his finger at random onto the page. "Loire," he read.
"Not really feeling it," Dominica replied.
"No, me neither," Theta agreed. "Your turn."
Dominica leaned over to point her finger on a random point on the new page. "Usser," Theta said.
"USSR?" Dominica questioned.
"Yep," he nodded, "do you like it?"
"I don't think we should name our child Unified Soviet Socialist Republic," she said.
"Show off," he muttered. "My go then."
[End of flashback]
Ok that was weird, he hadn't thought about that moment for millennia. Didn't mean anything though, it was only one flashback.
[Flashback]
"I can't remember his date of birth," the old man said.
"Ok, I'll try my best but it won't be easy to find him if I don't know the date of birth," the receptionist replied.
"How difficult can it be?" he replied. "You can't get many children called Oslo."
"I'm sorry," she apologised. "Many of the older records have been lost. We may have had an Oslo here, but we don't have the record of who fostered or adopted him."
"Well that's no use," the man complained. "Two hundred years it's taken me to find this place, and you've lost him. Well done, well done."
"Two hundred years?"
"Well obviously not two hundred years really," he clarified, "but it feels like that sometimes."
"Ok, well I don't have all the information here," the receptionist said, "I'm going to have to see if someone else would know."
"Be sure to tell them that I am the father of the boy," he said.
She nodded and walked out to find a more senior social worker. The man sighed heavily and pulled out his pipe, filled it with tobacco and lit it with a match. He took several long puffs as he waited for a response. The end was in sight, he had finally managed to track down the orphanage his son had been left in. Finally he would be able to see his son again.
An older woman followed the receptionist that he had already spoken to over to him. "Hello, I'm Mrs. Clonkers." She held out her hand for him to shake but he ignored it.
"Do you know where he is?" He asked.
"I think I do," she said happily, "Mr..."
He blinked and hesitated for a second. He hadn't prepared for this eventuality, and he really should have done. Theta Sigma was inappropriate for this situation, and either way he had been loath to use that since Dominica had... Since she had gone; it just made him sad. And the alias that he was using most frequently nowadays, the Doctor, was just a title, not a name at all.
"Door," he said, taking inspiration from his surroundings before they could notice his hesitation.
"Mr. Door?" The receptionist. "That's unusual."
"Yes," he said thoughtfully, "I suppose it is." He would have to come up with a better pseudonym at some point.
"Mr. Door," Mrs. Clonkers said. "There was a baby by the name of Oslo here thirty years ago, but he was adopted at about the same time."
"I assume you know who adopted him."
"Oh, of course," she nodded. "I have the form that was originally filled in."
She handed it over to him.
"Mr and Mrs. Foreman," he read aloud. "Thank you, you have been most helpful." He turned and strode out of the building. Oslo may have grown up, but at least he would be able to see him again.
"I was fond of her too Jamie," the second Doctor said as the image of Victoria disappeared on the scanner screen.
The highlander said nothing, he simply made his way out of the console room to sulk, and the Doctor couldn't blame him. It was never easy to lose a companion whether through death, like Katarina, or if they simply felt it was time to leave, like Ben and Polly, those who ended up travelling with him always became like family to him; apart from Oslo's daughter Susan who was actually family. He understood that it was more difficult for Jamie though, he and Victoria had become very close. He had toyed with the idea of suggesting that Jamie stayed with her, but that almost certainly wouldn't have worked out. Jamie was restless, he couldn't settle down, not on Earth and certainly not that quiet village that Victoria would be staying at. No, it was best say goodbye and move on, regardless of how painful it was.
He moved round the console and noticed a flashing light. Someone was trying to contact the TARDIS. Intrigued, he made sure that Jamie was nowhere to be found before answering.
The face that appeared on screen was that of a woman, fairly young with sharp features and short black hair. "Oh," the Doctor said once he recognised her, "hello mother."
She smiled back. "Hello, Theta Sigma," she said. "Or should I call you Doctor now? You youngsters and your pseudonyms."
"I am assuming this isn't a social call," the Doctor said.
"Is a mother not allowed to talk to her son every now and then?" She asked, pretending to be hurt by his suggestion.
"I would happily believe that," the Doctor said, "except for the fact that you haven't done that. This is the first we've seen of each other since I left."
"True," she admitted. "I suppose I had better get straight to the point then."
"Oh you don't have to," the Doctor said. "We could take this opportunity to catch up. Have you managed to get back on the council yet?"
"Of course not," she replied casually, "your actions have completely ruined any chances of that, along with your father."
"What did he actually do?" The Doctor asked in interest, he had always wondered about his father's mysterious disappearance.
Lady Lungbarrow clearly was not inclined to tell him at this point as she completely ignored the question. "I have, however, managed to secure a leading position in the Agency. I believe you have had dealings with them in the past."
He certainly had, his previous encounter had been not long after his and Dominica's flight from Gallifrey. It wasn't one he was likely to ever forget. "If you know of my previous encounter then you will know that this conversation is a complete waste of time," he said bitterly.
"The intention was never to kill anyone," she replied defensively. "I have dismissed all those involved, especially that Psychologist who failed to notice what had happened to your friend."
"I was under the impression that he picked him because of his anger and mental instability," the Doctor said.
"The sad thing is that I don't think you are wrong," his mother agreed. "But that is in the past now, I am here now, and I am changing things."
"You'll forgive me for being sceptical," he replied.
"I believe you know a certain scientist called Dastari," she continued.
"I know of him," the Doctor said vaguely. "So what?"
"He has become a cause for concern among the council," Lady Lungbarrow explained. "He is overseeing experiments with time in hopes of achieving Time Travel."
"Good for him," the Doctor commented.
"No not really," she replied. "We are concerned that he doesn't really know what he is doing and this meddling could potentially result in the unravelling of the time vortex itself; not to mention the danger if he decides to resort to zygma beam technology."
The Doctor nodded in understanding. "And you want me to go to him to tell him to stop," he said. "Why can't you send one of your shoot-first-ask-questions-later colleagues, that would sort it out much more easily."
"Gallifrey has a policy of remaining neutral," she explained. "If you go in our stead we can maintain plausible deniability."
"I could always refuse," the Doctor said. "Force you to break your neutrality agreement and actually raise a finger in some sort of action; wouldn't that be awful. How did you find me anyway?"
"A mother knows," she smiled. "I wouldn't worry about that, we can only commandeer your Time Capsule when it is stationary, you are safe for the moment. Either way no one besides us knows about this conversation."
"TARDIS," the Doctor said.
"Pardon?"
"She's the TARDIS," the Doctor explained gesturing about the room. "Time And Relative Dimension In Space. Not a Time Capsule."
"Oh, that's quite clever actually," his mother said after a moment of thought. "Did you come up with it yourself."
"Susan did actually."
"One of your new travelling companions?"
"My Granddaughter actually."
Lady Lungbarrow's eyes widened in shock at this statement. "Granddaughter? Where is she?"
"Oh no, I'm not having you drag her to Gallifrey," he warned her. "She's living her own life."
"I wouldn't dream of it," she insisted. "Does this mean that you have a son or a daughter somewhere?"
"Not anymore," he said sadly.
"Scumflower's?" She questioned. He nodded. "I'm going to have to let them know about this. If you do agree to help us I would advise you take the control rod with you; we don't want your TARDIS to fall into their hands."
"Control rod?"
"Stars, Borusa was right," she muttered, "you really do know nothing about how to use a Time Capsule. Next to the inertial dampers, that rod that looks as though it has no use can be removed and used to summon the Time Capsule to you and allows it to escape into the Time Vortex should it come under threat."
"If only I had known about that sooner," the Doctor said as he moved over to the inertial dampers to see if she was telling the truth. "That could have been so useful in the past."
"Excellent," she smiled. "I will trust you to deal with it."
"I can't control the TARDIS," the Doctor pointed out. "I wouldn't actually be able to get to Space Station Chimera even if I wanted to."
She rolled her eyes again. "How long have you been travelling around in that rusty old bucket?" She asked rhetorically. "I'll open up a wormhole near you that will send you most of the way, I'm sure that even you can manage the short little jump into the station."
"What? You said I was safe from the Time Lords so long as I was in the Time Vortex!" The Doctor exclaimed.
"You are," she said with a mischievous grin. "But you aren't from me. Good luck Doctor."
Already the Doctor could feel the TARDIS start to shudder under the gravity of the wormhole that had suddenly appeared. The cloister sounded in warning and he instinctively dived in an attempt to bring the TARDIS under control. "Make me proud son," his mother said, seemingly oblivious to his struggle, "I do love you, remember that." He looked up at her as she smiled at him. "Good luck," she said, and then she was gone.
"What's going on?" A Scottish accent announced Jamie's return to the console room.
It was at this moment that the Doctor decided that he would follow through with his mother's request. Not for her sake, she only wanted it sorted for politics, no he would do it for Jamie. At this time, in light of Victoria's departure, an adventure was just what he needed to keep himself occupied. He took his hand away from the controls and allowed the TARDIS to slowly fall into the wormhole.
"Hold on tight, Jamie," he instructed, "this will be bumpy."
"What's happening, Doctor?" Jamie asked.
"We've been sent on a mission," the Doctor replied. He gave a cry as the sensation of being squashed and forced through a letter box overcame him.
The third Doctor slammed the TARDIS doors behind him and rushed over to the console. He needed to know what damage the Time Lords had done, they had said he would be exiled to Earth with a new face and yet he still had access to the TARDIS. His TARDIS, he had to remind himself, his wasn't the only one with that acronym now.
It really annoyed him that his mother had stolen his granddaughter's idea for naming the Time Capsules, everyone was using it now; and it was unlikely he or Susan would ever get any credit for inventing it.
He scanned his eyes over the console but saw nothing untoward. That didn't mean anything though, they could very easily have caused a large amount of damage on the inside and he wouldn't be able to tell. Even opening a panel shed no further light on the matter, everything looked fine. There was only one way to know for sure, he would have to try to take off.
As he replaced the panel and walked round to the other side he paused as he noticed a change on the console. The Control Rod that he had used to summon his TARDIS back to him after the conclusion of his mother's mission, in which he had met one of his future incarnations, was gone. The instant reminder that he could have actually escaped before the Time Lords had homed in on him was bad enough, he cursed his previous incarnation for his lack of foresight, but it also proved that the Time Lords had indeed tampered with the TARDIS in some way.
He selected random co-ordinates and prepared the TARDIS for takeoff. At first everything happened as it should do, the TARDIS hummed and clicked at the normal moments and with the correct volume. When he pressed the dematerialisation button the Time Rotor began to oscillate as normal, but only for a couple of seconds. As the sound started to kick in it suddenly began to struggle juddering as if it was fighting against some invisible force, mimicking the sound that wasn't as smooth as it normally was. It was very much like the engine of a car that didn't want to start no matter how often or how aggressively you turned the ignition key.
"Doctor!" A woman's voice could be heard from outside. That UNIT scientist, Liz Shaw. She was going to be angry with him now, quite understandably, it would look like he had tried to abandon her.
The Doctor wondered whether he should have listened to Magnus after all. He had warned him that the Time Lords would punish him as well, he had been right, they had trapped him on Earth. But he knew it was the right decision, there was no way he would have been able to save all those humans on his own; or completely stop the War Lord's plans.
He wondered what had become of Magnus after all that. The Time Lords hadn't mentioned him so maybe he had managed to escape and was still out there somewhere. Or maybe the War Lords had found him first and killed him for his treachery, he would probably never know.
He powered down the TARDIS sadly and made his way over to the door. It was time to face the music. Time to start his new life in exile.
"Gallifrey," the fourth Doctor breathed, "at last."
After years of silence the Time Lords had finally contacted him once more. Last time it had been to ask him to aid them in their Omega problem, the conclusion of which had brought about the end of his exile, he had been free to travel once more. But since then there had been nothing. Not until this summons. Something important must be happening on Gallifrey, he felt obliged to go if only out of curiosity as to what had been happening through all these years of silence.
But this presented a problem. He had Sarah travelling around with him, and non-Gallifreyans were not allowed on Gallifrey. He could always rebel against this rule, but just because his exile had been lifted didn't mean that he was immune to further punishment, and that left Sarah unfairly in the firing line. He did not want her to be sent back to her native time zone with her memory wiped like Jamie and Zoe had been. No, she would have to leave, he had to take her back to her home in East Croydon.
He heard his companion re-enter the console room and turned to deliver the bad news only to freeze in shock; she was carrying a suitcase filled with all her stuff.
"How did you know?" He asked. A stupid question he realised, she couldn't possibly have known, and yet she was all packed and ready to leave. She was going to leave him anyway.
He pondered on what could have caused the sudden desire to leave throughout the journey to Earth. Had the conflict with Eldrad traumatised her? Had he damaged her more than he had realised? Was it something he had done? He would probably never know. He said goodbye with a smile but inside he was sad. He had initially thought that he would have dropped her off and then come back to collect her again after dealing with his business on Gallifrey, but that clearly wasn't going to be the case. Goodbyes were always hard, he always grew so close to his companions, but Sarah had been special. He quickly dematerialised before he could get too upset. He didn't even realise that he had landed in Aberdeen.
The fourth Doctor grinned his customary toothy grin as he finally broke open the crate containing the brand new K9 mark II. Polystyrene pellets spilled out along with a paper booklet, he gave it a casual glance before throwing it over his shoulder and returning his attentions to the inside of the crate. He enthusiastically dug the remaining pellets out and pulled out the robotic dog that was hidden beneath them.
He had just said goodbye to the original K9, it had elected to stay on Gallifrey to look after Leela. It still surprised him that the savage that had not so long ago been running around stabbing people had fallen in love.
He tapped a few buttons on the control pad on K9's back and mused about how Gallifrey had changed. They now allowed outsiders for a start, but how much of that was down to his influence he was unsure. He was still bitter though. He only lost Sarah because of that rule, although it was likely she would have left anyway, but at least it wouldn't happen again. And he was technically the President. Borusa was really the one in charge and someone would almost certainly get elected before long, but for the moment at least he was the most powerful Time Lord in the universe.
He gave a cry of delight as K9 came to life.
"Hello," the robot dog said monotonously, "I am K9, your personal assistant in all scientific matters and friend. I am programmed to follow all instructions to the letter, excluding those commands which have no letters, whilst offering my own humble opinion should you require it."
"Yes, yes," the Doctor said impatiently, "I know that."
"I am fluent in all known forms of sound based communication including: English, French, German, Spanish, Italian, Greek, Russian, Serbo-Croatian, Hungarian-"
"How do you skip this?" The Doctor pressed several buttons at random.
"Welsh, Gaelic, Gallic, Cornish, Latin, aboriginal, native american, Dothraki, Klingon-"
"Hold on!"
"High Gallifreyan, old Volantis, ancient Mondasian-"
"No, stop," the Doctor pressed the keys in an even more frantic motion. "I want you to go back. On what planet do they speak Dothraki? I want to know!"
"Quirmian, Klatchian, Goblin tongue, gibberish-"
"Gibberish!?"
"Yes master, gibberish, please pay attention."
"Hah, so you can hear me!" The Doctor exclaimed in delight.
"I cannot hear you yet, this, and the previous statement, are for the benefit of the 99% of buyers who will object to my knowledge of gibberish," K9 explained.
"Oh. But why can't you hear me anyway? Why are you insisting on spouting this unnecessary information?"
"Martian, cockney rhyming slang, elfish, Tritovorian, Judoon, Huttese and many more."
"Finally," the Doctor sighed with relief.
"Please enter the appropriate code to continue set up."
The Doctor blinked in surprise. "What code?" He rummaged about inside the box in search of any clue.
"No code selected," K9 stated. "Introduction continues."
"Noooo!"
The fifth Doctor marched down the corridors, flanked by Chancellery guards on either side. He had turned a complete circle. He was no longer the hero that had saved Gallifrey from invasion by the Sontarans, that had been forgotten, now he was a criminal once more and this time exile was too good for him, this time they were going to execute him.
It wasn't that he had done anything especially bad, such as assassinate the president, it was almost a necessity. An anti-matter creature had somehow got hold of the Doctor's bio-data and was using that in an attempt to bond with him in order to pass over into this universe. To avoid the inevitable catastrophe of a matter-anti-matter explosion that would be caused by this bonding the Time Lords had decided to kill the Doctor, thus trapping the anti-matter creature in its own universe once more. The Doctor had planned to find out the traitor that had given the creature his bio-data, whilst finding a way to block it, unfortunately the Time Lords had caught him first.
The guards were completely impassive as they escorted him down the long Gallifreyan corridors. He probably wouldn't have minded so much if they hadn't been so enthusiastic in their arrest of him; shooting him like that had been completely unnecessary. It was very clear that he wasn't going to bond with any of these guards like he had done with the previous Commander.
Having said this, he did have a small amount of admiration for the new Commander, Maxil. He may have been brash and overzealous but he had succeeded in capturing the Doctor, and there weren't many who could outsmart him. There was obviously great cunning and intellect that the Doctor had to admire. And he did look very majestic in his full dress uniform, with his beautiful blonde curls, proud features and bristling muscles. He wouldn't mind looking like that in a future incarnation, he was quite passive in his current form, relying heavily on his intellect to save the day, so it would be nice to have a physique that allowed him to take the physical approach if it was needed; it was this lack of physical strength that had made him unable to deal with the Cyber Leader as quickly as he would have liked, and, by extension, had led to the death of Adric. If he got another regeneration of course, as it stood he was about to get executed with no chance of a regeneration.
His mind now wandered through possibilities for escape. He did have a couple of marbles in his pocket, he could drop them in front of his escort and flee in the confusion. No, that would just make him a fugitive once more and alone with no way of countering the anti-matter creature; and Maxil would not hesitate to shoot to kill this time. No he was much better off waiting to see if anything came up. The anti-matter creature would not want its potential host to be destroyed without trying something to stop it; and if it couldn't do anything to stop this its threat to the universe would be at an end. He had had a good run, at least he would be remembered as a hero. Who knows, maybe his mother would turn up; that would almost make it all worthwhile.
"You've made it very clear from the outset that you were against my fitness regime," Melanie Bush stated, "how do I know you aren't just trying to get rid of me?"
"You're just being difficult now," the sixth Doctor chided. "You know full well that I can't continue to take you with me. That would create a paradox, your life would become a continuous loop of adventures with me, you would be begging me to release you, there does become a point when living out the same things over and over again must grow tiresome eventually. Tell me where you were when you were sucked out of time."
The ginger haired girl folded her arms and scowled for a few seconds before eventually conceding the point. "Alright," she agreed. "Gallifrey."
The Doctor froze and slowly twisted towards her. "Again?!" He exclaimed. "Will I never be free of that troublesome planet? And what is the Master doing travelling forwards across Gallifrey's time line?"
"I dont know," Mel replied with a shrug.
He sighed heavily. "Very well, I'll have to sort it out. I am right in assuming it is after my trial am I?"
She nodded. "The Inquisitor is President as you suggested, but she is under fire from another Time Lady who has been away for a very long time and..."
"Don't give me any details," the Doctor interrupted. "Just tell me when and where."
"... I am equipped with 18 different settings ranging from minor sting to total incineration," K9 mark II continued, "and have armour that can withstand the force of approximately 10kN."
"Aha," the fourth Doctor cried in triumph. He jumped out from the other side of the console brandishing a wooden mallet. "Now, are you start behaving yourself, or am I going to have to introduce you to Mr. Mallet?!"
"However, it is not advised that I be used solely for military purposes. I am, primarily a scientific-"
The Doctor had had enough. He leaped over to the robotic dog and proceeded to whack it with the mallet. "Why won't you work?!" He shouted as he bashed K9 on the side of his head.
The mallet seemed to cause no damage to the robotic dog at all, but the impact was enough to cause it to cease in its annoying commentary. "Alert, K9 under attack," K9 intoned, "emergency defence parameters activated."
It turned towards the Doctor and extended a thin cylinder out of its nose. The Doctor immediately recognised what it was doing and dived for cover. A red laser was expelled out of the tube, crashing into the wall with a bang. K9 twisted round to find his assailant, firing off several more shots as he did so. It spun left and right but found no more trace of the Doctor who was cowering on the opposite side of the console.
"Danger has passed, returning introduction," K9 stated. "Hello, I am K9, your personal assistant in all scientific matters and friend. I am programmed to follow all instructions to the letter, excluding those commands which have no letters, whilst offering-"
The Doctor jumped up and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. "Alright then," he growled, "let's see how you like this one." He knelt down by the side of the annoying machine and proceeded to unscrew the side panel, luckily it didn't seem to object to this and the Doctor soon exposed all the inner workings. I should be able to bypass this stupid introduction through here, he thought as he proceeded to start fiddling about with the cogs and wires. Not once did he stop and notice the sheet of instructions sitting on the floor by his knee.
"Ah, there you are Mel," the seventh Doctor smiled as he found his companion once more. "Where have you been?"
She floundered for a moment, clearly unsure how to answer. This hesitation gave him a good idea of exactly where she had been, and he understood her concerns but it was actually nothing to worry about, he was allowed to be told about events in his past. He smiled reassuringly to tell her that she was safe to tell him.
She relaxed under the smile and answered. "I was helping you to survive your trial in your previous life," she replied.
"Oh yes, of course," he said, he remembered that well. "Well done. Shame you missed the election though."
"Oh, who won?"
"Romana did," the Doctor replied. "Very close though, could have gone either way. Hopefully this means I will not end up being called back again. Romana will respect my desire to remain a traveller."
"You know her then," it wasn't a question, more of a statement. Mel had guessed from her brief encounter that she and the Doctor had been close at one time.
"She travelled with me," the Doctor nodded, "once upon a time. She's regenerated since then, as have I." Three times in the Doctor's case, three lifetimes since then. There may have been some attraction back then, he couldn't quite remember, but it had long gone by now, they were both quite happy to move on in their separate directions.
They came upon the TARDIS and he unlocked the door to allow them entry. "By the way," the Doctor said just before they could enter. "What were you hoping to achieve in telling me to mind my head?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not sure to be honest," she said. "I guess I didn't want you to suffer too much."
"You wanted me to be ready for when my regeneration came," the Doctor realised. He patted her on the shoulder. "You always were good to me." He entered the blue police box and shut the door once Mel was safely inside.
"600 years," the eighth Doctor exclaimed. "600 years and not even a Christmas card."
Lady Lungbarrow sniffed unconcerned. "I could quite easily wonder where you have been for all these centuries and why you have never bothered to come and visit me," she replied casually.
They regarded one another coolly for a few seconds, a mixture of admiration and resentment etched on their faces. They had both regenerated since their last conversation. The Doctor was now in his eighth life and no longer a fugitive, his mother now had a more aged body. She wasn't ancient and not ugly, just more respectable and mature looking with brown hair tied into a neat bun; a human might have thought she was in her forties. This change went well with her return to inner circle of the council.
"So, what was your reason for summoning me this time?" He asked. "What favour do you need me to perform?"
"No favour," she replied. "If I had needed a favour I would have contacted you in your TARDIS, it was the Lady President who summoned you to Gallifrey."
"Romana?" He said in surprise. "Well if it was so urgent she should have come to me herself, not sent one of her lapdogs."
"The Lady President is busy with far more important matters," Lady Lungbarrow sighed, "she trusted me to deliver your assignment to you."
"My assignment?!" The Doctor exclaimed, "I'm not an agent at your beck and call. I may have acted as one once, but that was only once, I never did it again."
"You don't have a choice," Lady Lungbarrow said flatly, "all Time Lords, renegade and official have been recalled to Gallifrey to take up arms in defence of their homeland."
This got the Doctor's attention. "What's happened?" He asked. "What's going on?"
"War, Doctor," she answered. "We are at war."
The Doctor raised his eyebrows in surprise. "War?" He echoed. "Who could have possibly antagonised you so much that you have resorted... It's not the Faction Paradox again is it?"
"No, that was just a facade," his mother replied, "an illusion of trickery to hide the true identity of our enemy. The Daleks."
All the colour slowly drained from the Doctor's face. "The... Daleks?" he squeaked. "We're at war with the Daleks."
"That got your attention," she smirked. Then she turned serious once more. "You are to take command of the Star Song and its fleet and are to form up alongside the other major fleets at the apex of the Barron Strait, you will receive further instructions from Chief Commodore Vansell when you arrive."
"Very well," he nodded. "I shall familiarise myself with my ship and crew immediately." He made his way over to the TARDIS, he paused just outside the door. "By the way, why are you trusting a renegade with an entire fleet of battleships?"
"We are at war, son," she said. "It doesn't matter what caste you come from, we are all in the same boat. And you renegades have had more experience of the universe outside of Gallifrey, so it is logical for you to take up roles of command."
"Fair enough," the Doctor nodded, he unlocked the door and stepped inside. A second later he poked his head back round. "What exactly is Romana doing that is so important she can't see me?"
"She is discussing with the rest of the council methods to help the war effort," she replied.
"Ok," the Doctor said. He shut the door, Lady Lungbarrow turned and started to walk away at which point the door opened again. "Are we talking about conscription and rationing or super weapons, Death Stars, nuclear bombs, resurrections, chemical weapons, diseases-"
"I am not authorised to tell you," she stated.
"Oh come on," he drawled, "you can tell me, I'm your son."
"Top secret I'm afraid," she replied. "But I can assure you that you will like it when it comes."
"Very mysterious," the Doctor commented. "Very well, I shall wait with bated breath."
He closed the door again and this time the TARDIS did dematerialise.
The ninth Doctor looked up at the monitor. He had succeeded. The war was finally over. Gallifrey, the Daleks, the Cybermen and all the other creatures that had gotten caught up in the horrific war were gone. And the consequences of his actions finally sank in, he had just committed mass genocide.
His frantic probes with his mind for other Time Lords turned out to be fruitless; he cursed his lack of skill in the psychic department. He turned to the scanner now, there had to be other survivors surely, he couldn't be the only one. But there was no denying it, even the TARDIS's scanner couldn't locate any other Time Lords or even another TARDIS. He was an endangered species, the last of the Time Lords. And with this realisation the tears finally came.
He had grown weary of the war ever since his regeneration, and after he had discovered what the high council was planning... There was no alternative, it had to go. The entire war, and all those involved, sealed in a time lock so he couldn't even undo his activation of that great and ancient weapon. The Monk had warned him of the consequences of this action and only now did he truly appreciate what he had been saying. It was too late though. Even he had not escaped the rain of fire, the sun turning to ice, the locusts multiplying and feasting on all the crops, the rivers turning to blood and the rest of the devastation brought about by the weapon. No, the Monk couldn't be lost as well, he had known the Doctor's plan. But clearly that had been of no help whatsoever, even he was gone.
He wept louder and collapsed against the console causing an erratic flight pattern to start. He did not care, perhaps crashing into a star would be a mercy, it would save him from the misery that was living alone in the universe. After a few seconds of weeping he chanced a glance at the monitor and saw that the TARDIS was hurtling towards a planet he was very familiar with: Earth.
Who would protect them from the dangers of the universe if he was gone? He jumped up and slowed the descent. Maybe he had a reason to remain living after all.
It was July 2012. The night of the opening ceremony for the London Olympics. One of the torch bearers had collapsed out of exhaustion, or unforeseen injury, it was difficult to tell, the aides were too slow in getting over to him for a random bystander had already run off with the torch by the time they had gotten over to him. The tenth Doctor continued to sprint on into the night, ignoring the shouts from all the volunteers for him to pass it onto the next bearer, he was on a mission: the Olympic flame had to be lit in order to send the Isolus home.
As he sprinted down one of the streets of London he suddenly heard a very familiar sound: the sound of the TARDIS materialising. He skidded to a halt and stared at slowly appearing blue box dumbfounded.
"What!?" He exclaimed. "What?! What?!"
The door opened to reveal a young man in a tweed jacket, a man the Doctor suddenly recognised. "Me!" He exclaimed in delight.
"Yes, that's right," the eleventh Doctor nodded. "And we haven't got much time. A Weeping Angel is trying to steal the Olympic torch."
"Who?! What?!" Ten exclaimed. "Why would anyone want to steal the Olympic torch? Well, obviously there are those kids who wanted to sell it on eBay, and me who's actually being helpful if they would just calm down. The torch was never going to get there if I hadn't stepped in. But why would a group of aliens want to steal the Olympic torch?"
"I was baffled myself at first," Eleven shrugged. "But then I remembered about the Isolus."
"So they're trying to steal the Isolus?" Ten questioned with raised eyebrows.
"Well, either that or they're trying to stop it from going home," Eleven answered.
"These aren't very angelic angels," Ten observed.
"No, I suppose not," Eleven agreed. "Anyway, you need to give me the torch so that I can set everything straight."
"Aww," Ten moaned, "but I wanted to light the Olympic flame."
"I know," Eleven said sympathetically. "It was an exhilarating moment, but it cannot happen. The instant you enter the stadium the Angels will be upon you, it is safer this way."
"Ok," Ten conceded. He was bitterly disappointed for he had really been looking forward to doing it, but he realised it was probably for the best.
"We'll light the cauldron in Rio," Eleven said as he allowed Ten into the TARDIS, "they won't be expecting that."
The tenth Doctor held Wilf's old pistol up, pointing it back and forth between the Master and Lord President Rassilon. No one made a move as they awaited his decision, would he shoot the Master or would he shoot Rassilon?
There was perfect logic behind either decision. By killing the Master he would sever the link to Gallifrey causing it to hurtle back into the Time Lock once more; his botched resurrection preventing him from even being able to attempt a regeneration. But if he killed Rassilon then he would be able to take his place, become Lord President himself and he could steer them away from the path of universal destruction that Rassilon had chosen. Gallifrey could become a great benevolent world once more, it was so very tempting, the Master whispered seductively in his ear, encouraging him down that path. Rassilon himself was strangely remaining silent, neither decision was beneficial for him and he could obliterate the Doctor using the Hand of Omega at any instant, yet he didn't. Perhaps he was hoping that the Doctor would choose a third option, kill neither of them and accept his judgement, perhaps assuming that his history of pacifism would stop him from pulling that trigger.
The Doctor stared into the cold grey eyes of the Lord President. Could he really bring himself to destroy his own species again? But he knew that the alternative was worse, he slowly squeezed the trigger. Rassilon's cold stare dared him to go further while the Master egged him on from behind, but it was the movement behind the President that had a bigger effect. A few of the Time Lords were on their knees, and covering their eyes, Rassilon's punishment for choosing to defy him, one now removed their hands. The Doctor's eyes widened in shock, it was his mother.
He had assumed that she had done as she had always done, played her game of thrones defensively to keep herself in the President's good books even at the expense of her own son. She had survived many Presidents, corrupt and benign, by shrewdly changing her politics when it most suited her; she had even survived the crisis caused by the Doctor's flight from Gallifrey. Yet she hadn't done that here, for once she had chosen to do the honourable thing rather than politically savvy decision; it would have been easy to side with Rassilon, nearly everyone else had done so. The expression on her face was not one he had ever seen before, it was one of great sadness. Suddenly the Doctor knew exactly what he needed to do.
He turned and pointed the pistol into the centre of the Master's chest, he stared back with a mixture of fear and pleading.
"Get out of the way," the Doctor stated.
This planet was very familiar, and this temple was even more so. The eleventh Doctor shone his large UV light against the stone wall. It was very worn but some of the images were still visible, for instance Egyptian styled stick people were cowering on the ground but the reason for their cowering was not clear; possibly a large smudge above them. These images were also familiar to the Doctor, he had definitely been here before, a long time ago, when the images were still recognisable.
He had visited here during his ninth life, towards the end of the Time War, and he hadn't been alone. An old school colleague who had also turned renegade had insisted on coming too; not to help, but to ensure he got the same advantage that the Doctor did. The Monk was never well known for acts of charity and could cause countless mischief if he so chose, but he wasn't evil, he had recognised the evil of this place even if the Doctor had chosen to ignore it.
He scanned further along the wall and found another image that was mostly intact, this one showed a swarm of insects engulfing some crops. He couldn't quite remember why they had come here, he couldn't really remember what had happened here, but he couldn't forget the consequences of visiting here. He shuddered at the thought for it was in this temple that the Doctor and the Monk had discovered the Moment.
That had been a long time ago now, the Moment was long gone. But even so, the Doctor could still sense great evil emanating from this place. He needed to find his companions, things were about to turn ugly. Almost on cue a scream echoed down the corridor.
The battle was over, the Racnoss were defeated, yet all the twelfth Doctor felt was immense sadness and it was all River Song's fault. As the adventure had continued she had irritated him more and more with her over the top enthusiasm, the casual arrogance, her mischievous teasing and the constant use of 'Sweetie' or 'My love' over simply calling him the Doctor like everyone else. Obviously he hadn't minded in his previous life but right now it just helped him towards a realisation that he had slowly been having since he had regenerated. He didn't love her anymore.
He had been prepared for this moment for a while, his sonic screwdriver was fitted with the neural relay, but now that it was upon him he wasn't sure he was ready. Was he really ready to say goodbye to her for good? The truth was that as soon as she discovered his sudden loss of affection for her she probably wouldn't want to see him either, not in this life.
"We need to talk," he said when he saw her. "I don't want you to take this the wrong way, this has not been easy for me."
"You think that we should stop seeing each other," River said with a sigh.
He frowned. "How did you know?"
"I've sensed this coming for a while," she explained. "You just haven't been the same since your regeneration, it's quite clear that you don't love me anymore and to be fair I'm not exactly keen either. I'm surprised you haven't done this sooner actually."
"Oh," the Doctor was lost for words. While this was all true he hadn't expected it to all to come from her lips and then for her to accept it, half of him had been looking forward to an attempt by her to make him reconsider. "Well... Err."
They stared at one another reluctant now that they had reached this point to actually end it. River broke the silence first. "Well, this is goodbye then."
"Yes," the Doctor coughed, "err, goodbye." River turned to leave, knowing that the Doctor was not good at goodbyes. "Wait, take my sonic screwdriver."
"Oh, I couldn't."
"Please, you'll need it a lot more than I will," he pulled out the bulky sonic screwdriver. "I barely use it nowadays actually, I can hardly remember what half of the new features do. Just take it."
She reluctantly took hold of it, cradling it in her hands as if it were a precious treasure. "Are you sure?" She questioned, it had always been his most prized possessions; excluding the TARDIS.
"I've already made up my mind, don't try to make me keep it," the Doctor said hurriedly. "Look, I will not see you again, but you will see me again once more. Make sure you have it with you."
"I will," she nodded solemnly. "Goodbye my love."
"Goodbye, Melody Pond," he replied. Then he turned and swaggered back to the TARDIS, clicked his fingers causing the doors to open on their own accord, walked inside and dematerialised without a backwards glance.
[end of flashbacks]
He saw himself get carried back to the TARDIS after the lifespan of his first body expired. He felt the burning, mind crushing sensation of his second regeneration being forcibly induced by the Time Lords followed by slightly different steady radiation poisoning of the Great One's lair that had killed Dandy. This was surpassed by the vertigo mixed with the terrible knowledge that there was nothing that he could do to stop himself from falling from that tower, then he lost his grip. The initial landing was painless, it was only seconds later that the pain of all the smashed bones began overrun his senses. He had always remembered the pain of this for he had forever maintained a fear of heights in all his other lives, but he had forgotten how painful the Spectrox Toxaemia had been. No wonder Peri had fainted, looking back he couldn't believe that he had managed to carry her all the way back to the TARDIS whilst suffering from the symptoms himself.
He was incredibly relieved when the pain vanished until he realised that he was Coats stood in the TARDIS that was about to be shot down by the Rani. He stumbled wildly under the first shot, catching himself on the exercise bike. Despite knowing what would happen next he could do nothing to stop himself from relaxing, thinking that the worst was over, only to be thrown violently by yet another shot, smashing his temple on the handlebars. Once he regained consciousness he was lying on an operating table with an horrible pain in his chest, almost as if he had been shot and then someone had ripped open an artery whilst doing some sort of exploratory surgery. He pleaded for the surgeons above him to stop, they couldn't cure him. But they ignored him dismissing his ramblings for shock and pressing a mask into his face so as to anaesthetise him. He struggled as best he knew that it would kill him if he allowed it to take hold of him, but soon he breathed in too much of the anaesthetic and fell unconscious wondering whether he was going to wake up again later. When he woke up he was in the heart of the Time War in his eighth life, his flagship, the Star Song, had taken critical damage, his crew were diving for the escape pods but he knew that that was a futile gesture, the Daleks would surely destroy all pods. The only chance was to get to his TARDIS; well he was hardly going to leave it behind. As he sprinted down a corridor he felt the ship vibrate as it was hit once more. The TARDIS was just in sight when disaster struck, the hull could no longer take the strain and burst open sucking out all the oxygen with it. The Doctor held his breath hurriedly, praying his respiratory bypass system would not kick in too soon, and pulled himself across the corridor. He managed to get inside just in time but the damage had already been done, he had been exposed to the vacuum for too long, already the bio-energy was bubbling to the surface.
Next thing he knew he was in his ninth life stood at the console, feeling the bio-energy coursing through his veins, hurriedly fixing the damage that the Time Vortex had caused. This was going to hurt, he realised that it was building to a very powerful explosion of energy, completely unlike anything he had experienced before. Then he was striding into a glass tank and pressing a button to cause the radiation to flood into his tank rather than Wilf's, it was even more painful than the cause of his third regeneration. Once that faded away he found himself in his eleventh life lying in an army hospital bed, too tired to move, too weak to speak to his companions that were stood over him, they would all be in for a big surprise when his regeneration did finally arrive. Finally he found himself sprawled against a wall with the wind knocked out of him, he might have survived if that was all that the bomb had done to him, he closed his eyes and braced himself in preparation for the shrapnel.
The last image faded and he was back on Thoruxa Medio, Xkitor stood in front of him charging up his cannon. He glanced around but Broxa was still trapped in a circle of swords, Usahn was still smirking at the Doctor's impending doom and they were still completely alone.
"Ok," he muttered, "maybe I am going to die."
Author's note: ok, that was a long chapter, and with no convenient place to cut it in half. Back to normal next week. To clarify, I don't specifically believe that the Woman in the End of Time is the Doctor's mother, but for the sake of this story it works better if she is.
