Author's Note:
This story begins immediately after the events of classic Doctor Who story, "The Daleks." Those who read will be experiencing adventure through the eyes of Barbara, Ian, Susan and the First Doctor. This is a crossover because I have decided to connect various other franchises to this story, though I will leave the discovery of which ones to you, the readers. Also, please throw out all your canonical knowledge that comes after those episodes.
Chapter 1: New History
Ian Chesterton opened his eyes and felt a terrible headache. If he did not know any better, he would think he had a hangover. However, it has been some time since he drank any alcohol, even before he and Barbara had decided to follow Susan home. Astounding how an innocent curiosity could result in so much trouble.
As Ian got to his feet, he saw the Doctor doing the same. Then, Ian saw Barbara still on the floor and hurried to her. She was conscious, but disoriented. A few feet away the Doctor was helping his granddaughter, Susan, to her feet.
"What in the world was that, Grandfather?!" Susan exclaimed.
"I am uncertain, my dear." The Doctor replied. "Have a seat while I do some checking."
He helped her over to a small couch not far from the Tardis console. Ian did the same with Barbara. Once they were both seated, the Doctor began working at the Tardis controls, with Ian looking over his shoulder. A pointless action, since Ian knew literally nothing about the Tardis' controls.
"Do you have a question, or are you just going to keep hovering like a bee, Chessertin?" The Doctor asked.
"My name is Chesterton." Ian sighed. "And I am rather concerned about whatever knocked me out. Any sane person would be. Do you even know how to operate this thing?"
The Doctor turned around. "I will have you know, Chesterton, that I know exactly how to operate my Tardis. In fact, for me, it is even simpler than riding a bike would be for you. Would you like to give the control a try, hmm? After what happened last time?"
"No, Doctor. I just want to know I am safe here." Ian replied. "Helping the Thals bring an end to those vile Daleks creatures and save their civilization was enough danger for me for a long time."
Before the Doctor could continue, he noticed a small, flashing orange light on the console.
"My, my, this is rather distressing." The Doctor said with a hint of concern.
"What is it, Doctor?" Ian asked.
"It would appear that there was an energy surge through the dematerialization circuit. I'll need to make sure it is not damaged." The Doctor answered as he bent down underneath the console. "I do hope it is alright. It can be a bit of a hassle to fix."
Ian, deciding he would be of no use in this situation, went to check on Barbara and Susan.
"How are the two of you?" He asked kindly.
"Better. Thank you." Barbara replied. "This is quite the adventure we are on, isn't it?"
Ian nodded. "The Doctor says there was some energy surge through some circuit. He is checking it now."
Just then, the Doctor let out a sigh of relief. "Looks as though the dematerialization circuit is completely intact. Thank goodness for that. I will still have to check and recheck all the systems."
"I'm glad to hear the Tardis is alright grandfather." Susan said. "Now, I feel like a shower."
"I would also like to get cleaned up." Barbara said. "Is there somewhere on this ship where we can wash up and get a change of clothes?"
"Come with me," Susan said. "I'll show you."
Ian also felt like he could use a good soak. After the three of them left, he continued to work at the Tardis console.
Sometime later, after the Doctor confirmed all the systems were fully functional, he decided to see where they had ended up. He turned on the viewing screen that hung from the ceiling. Outside the Tardis there was a sandy beach. Oxygen levels and gravity were normal. Once everyone was back, they would do some exploring. The Doctor looked forward to that, though he could not help feeling he had missed something, something important. So, he did a more thorough check of the readings of where they landed. It was then that he figured out what he had missed.
Not far from the Tardis, there was a boy watching it intently. His name is Shirou. He was curious about this blue box that had appeared on the beach where he patrolled daily, keeping an eye out for the occupiers of this part of his nation. Shirou stayed hidden behind a bush and continued to observe the strange box for another three minutes. Once those had passed, he knew he had no choice but to keep moving.
If Shirou did not finish his patrol, his friends could be put in danger. Their hideout must remain secret, until those who were oppressing them were driven off their land. He hurried down along the sandy beach, still careful to remain unseen. A loud screeching noise drew his attention. With a firm grip on his sword, -his katana,- he inspected its source. This led Shirou to an abandoned house.
Well, more like a small shack. And it was falling apart. Its sliding screen door had been shredded, its roof had a large hole and when there was the slightest gust of wind, it creaked terribly. Shirou had seen this place before, on an earlier patrol. There was nothing left in there, no food or utensils or tools of any sort. He could not think of any reason for that to have changed. However, he heard something as he approached. As Shirou cautiously stepped closer, he realized it was sobbing.
When Shirou was only a step away, he heard a twig snap. In an instant, he realized he had stepped into a trap. At the same moment of this realization, half-a-dozen foreign soldiers emerged from the bushes. Three already had their muskets aimed at him and three more with sabers drawn. Instead of their absurd golden colored uniforms, they wore black, with mud and grass smudged all over them.
"Sword! Ground!" One of those holding a saber shouted in Shirou's native language.
Damn, Shirou thought. They have been surrounded and outnumbered. Wretched Spaniards!
"Sword! Ground!" The same soldier repeated.
When Shirou remained still, his hand grasped his sword's handle. The man grunted, then shouted something in his own vile tongue. One of the riflemen answered and took aim with his musket. At the same instant of his shot, Shirou made a mad dash toward one of his comrades. Startled by this action, the soldier fired his musket blindly. He missed Shirou and the shot grazed one of his friend's shoulders.
Shirou swung his katana on a clear path to the Spaniard's neck. However, the blow was blocked by a saber. This saber was wielded by the same soldier who commanded the others. Odds were he was leading this small group.
Shirou smiled. "It shall be an honor to strike you down!"
He lifted his katana to strike at the Spaniard leader. Their blades clashed with a fury of sparks. This man looked to be about twenty years of age. There was probably only a few years difference between them. However, Shirou was left handed, making his sword-style most unusual. It gave him an advantage against others fighting with swords. The blonde haired foreigner facing him now was no exception.
Unfortunately, Shirou became so focused on this single opponent, he neglected the others. His reminder came in the form of a sharp pain in his leg. Shirou barely managed to remain standing. The man he had been clashing with knocked away his katana then kicked him in the gut. The last thing Shirou saw before losing consciousness was the Spaniards closing in around him, sneering.
Joaquin Cortés looked down at the unconscious and wounded barbarian at his feet and sighed. He had put up a decent fight. More and more of these Japanese barbarians fought back with surprising ferocity. Not just on the frontlines, but there resistance fighters operating in the areas of Japan they had occupied as well. They were more willing to die fighting than any other people Joaquin had ever heard of. Especially, compared to the Filipinos, the Spanish ruled to the south.
"We should finish this bandit off now." One of Joaquin's men, Andrés snarled. "And you, David, should be executed for wounding a fellow soldier, as well as general idiocy! You could have killed me!"
His blood was up. He wanted to kill something, particularly a person. This was how he was whenever he felt slighted in any way. Joaquin did not like him or his violent tendencies. They had a way of getting out of control.
"No. We have to find his allies and that will be much easier if he is alive to be interrogated." Joaquin said in a tone that brokered no argument. "As for David, he will clean all of our rifles and dig a new latrine for us. If that is not satisfactory to you, I will assign him night patrol for the next week."
Andrés made a nasty grin. "Looks like you have some long days and nights ahead of you David."
With that, they bound the bandit and made their way back to the horses they had tied to some trees not too far away. As they rode back to the village they were using as their base, newly christened Nuevo Toledo, Joaquin wondered what the point to all this was. Fighting threats to Spain and its king was completely justified to his eyes. However, invading other people's lands when they had done no wrong to their kingdom, it simply lacked the same sense of purpose for Joaquin.
His father, uncles and brothers were all part of the military. One could say his family had been fighting for Spain since the earliest days of the kingdom. Joaquin was but a boy when Spain won the war that led to the total annexation of France. He was proud of that war because it eliminated a terrible threat to Spain. Conquering people who had not attacked or offended Spain in any way, was seeming more and more like a waste of men.
Besides, had Spain not conquered enough of the world. The newly discovered continents had been almost completely annexed by Spain. Then there were the African colonies and the other islands in the Pacific. What was the need for further imperial gains?
"Commander Joaquin?" David brought him out of his thoughts.
"Yes? What is it?" He replied.
"Are you alright? You had a rather pained expression on your face."
"Oh, did I? Well, do not let it bother you. I was merely pondering some rather complex questions." Joaquin answered.
"Well, if those questions continue to weigh on your mind, I would be happy to help you drown them in absinthe." David said with a smile. "I have grown rather fond of this local variety called sake. Though, maybe we don't invite any grouchy toads, like Andrés."
The two chuckled at their mutual dislike of their comrade.
After getting clean, Ian, Barbara and Susan returned to find the Doctor was still working at the Tardis control looking rather perplexed.
"Grandfather, is everything alright?" Susan asked. "You should have finished all the diagnostics by now? Is something broken after all?"
"Not that I can find, my child. But something rather strange has happened." The Doctor replied. "We are no longer in our native universe."
"What?" Susan said. "That makes no sense. The Tardis was set to stay within one universe, no matter where it went."
"I know that fully well. I am the one who switched on that setting, but apparently, that energy surge switched it back off." He replied.
"Would one of you care to include us in this conversation?" Barbara inquired. "What do you mean we are no longer in our native universe?"
"Wait, I think I know what he's talking about." Ian said. "I read a paper a few weeks ago about the theory of parallel universes. They are the answer to the question "what if?" They are variations of each other, every one different from the others. Imagine a world where Africa colonized Europe. A world where the first world war never happened. A horrid world where the Nazi's won World War II."
"So, we are now in one of these parallel universes? So, what makes this universe different from our own?" Barbara inquired.
"I have no way to know until we explore what is outside." The Doctor answered. "Now, would you all like to get to it?"
Susan nodded, and was quickly followed by Ian and Barbara. With that, the Doctor pressed a button on the console and the Tardis doors opened.