The aftermath of the Time War. So many planets, so many billions of lives shattered, destroyed. All because of the greed of one species, and the struggle of one valiant race to defeat them for all of time. The Timelords. But, of all the Timelords who had fought in the Time War, only one still lived, and he would have to live with the scars for the rest of his lives...
The police box looked out of place among the grey stones and the dry ground of the semi-desert on the planet Empaeron. There was a man walking through the semi-desert - the owner of the blue police box. He had one last mission to attend to before he could leave this section of the galaxy - the part that had been most affected by the Time War. Then he could at least partly forget some of the pain and horror he had been through in the past months.
The man, clad in a leather jacket, dark shirt, and black, casual looking trousers walked towards the city with a loping, almost disjointed gait. He was still trying to get used to his new body, but even so, he moved with a kind of clumsy confidence, as though whatever happened, whatever mess he blundered into next, would be put right.
Somehow.
The city was dead, one of the war's victims. But there were still people living there, among the ruins of the past, trying to build a new future. It wouldn't work. They would never be able to recover their numbers and would die out in 200 years or so.
The man stood at the top of the valley and gazed down at the ruined city before he started to climb down the steep incline. There used to be trees here. And flowers - lots and lots of them. And children playing. People LIVING. Like things had once been on his own planet.
He gulped, wanting to remember, but dreading it as well. He reached up to run a hand through his hair, before remembering that this new body had a short, tidy cropped haircut - a contrast to the long, auburn locks he'd become used to. He would have to get out of that mannerism. He ended up covering his face in his hands, finding comfort in the soft darkness.
It was dark when he finally reached the city gates, now fallen and useless. There was a young woman standing near the gates. She had been pretty, once, but the pain of war and the sadness it caused had printed itself indelibly on her face. Her body had been spared, but not her soul.
Both the woman's hands were laying on the shoulders of a small child - she was 5 or 6 years old, if that. There was a battered cloth bag at her feet - all her worldly possessions. The womans face crumpled even more when she saw the man walking towards her.
"Doctor." It was a flat statement. "I never really though you'd come." Her grip on the child tightened.
The Doctor looked at the child, a worried expression on his face. "She's younger than I expected," he said.
"She was 6 last month."
The Doctor bent to pick up the bag. The child stared up at him - she had huge, questioning brown eyes. "Have you come to take me home?" she asked. "Katarka says you're going to find me a new mummy and daddy." The Doctor looked back at the child's guardian.
"She knows her parents are dead, doesn't she?" He didn't want to raise the little girl's hopes of seeing her real parents again.
Of course," Katarka was defensive and unwilling to let her niece into this strangers care. She was fully aware that she would never see her again. "What I don't understand is why she has to go away?" Katarka looked at the Doctor, her face demanding answers he didn't know how to give.
"I can't tell you everything, Katarka. Just that...there are people looking for her, people you wouldn't want to trust with the future of the universe, and Sophia is safer away from this planet. It's too vulnerable - you wouldn't be able to protect her."
Katarka turned her head away from him to look at her niece. "My sister said...before she died...she told me to trust you. But I'm scared. How do I know she'll be safe anywhere else?"
"You don't. But I'll be watching out for her, And when the Daleks (Katarka winced at the mention of that name) find her - if they find her - I'll be there, waiting for them." Katarka hovered indecisively for a few moments, unable to make her mind up. Her eyes glazed over slightly, but a second later she snapped herself out of it and bent down so she was at Sophia's eye level.
She looked steadily into the child's eyes. "Do you want to go?" she asked her.
Sophia glanced doubtfully up at the Doctor. She was afraid, but excited too - her mother had told her all about the Doctor. Sophia smiled, tried to reassure her aunt. "Yes, Katarka. I'm going to like it, I think." Katarka hugged her tightly, and wished that she would never have to let go. But she knew she would. Finally she stood up and walked the child over to the Doctor's side.
"Can't you stay? Just for tonight? You can sleep in one of these empty houses, and I can bring Sophia back in the morning." Sophia was scared of the dark sometimes, but she didn't really want to tell the Doctor that.
He shook his head. "I can't risk that. I can't risk being found here."
Katarka moved her head closer to his, so Sophia couldn't overhear and then whispered, "The technology...in her head, it's more powerful than anyone thought, isn't it?"
"Yes. Only you're not really supposed to know that. I can't tell you any more, I'm sorry, I have to go. Goodbye Katarka." He turned to leave, but then turned back to her, "Why don't you come wi..."
"No." Katarka interrupted firmly, "My home is here. I'll die here, it's my place." She shrugged.
The Doctor nodded sadly, understanding her train of thought. "Fair enough. Sophia, we've got to go now." He stared walking, the child running to keep up.
"Look after her!" called out Katarka.
"I will. Look after yourself." And then he was gone. Sophia was gone. For ever. Surprisingly, Katarka didn't cry. There didn't seem to be any tears left. She walked away from the fallen gates and back towards her house, now empty except for herself and her crippled husband.
The Doctor hadn't told Katarka everything. He was never ment to take Sophia to safety, to a planet where she could start a new, and more peaceful life. He was supposed to kill her, and rid the universe of the last piece of the Dalek empire. For, hidden somewhere in Sophia's brain, lay the secret knowledge of the Daleks final plan, which they never had the chance to carry out. The only thing the Doctor knew about the plan was that it would probably destroy the universe, ripping it inside out the way a child tears paper. Sophia's people, the Amurans, had been one of the Daleks slave species, and the chip containing all the information of the Daleks great and final plan had been implanted in Sophia's skull just a few hours after her birth.
The Doctor looked down at the child, who was busily exploring the TARDIS with a kind of serious wonderment. He was quite grateful she wasn't yet tall enough to reach the console.
Sophia had no idea of how important she was - hopefully, she would never know the full story. It was time to act. The Doctor knew there wouls be consequences - there always were. He felt like he was holding the fate of the universe in his two hands, and not for the first time either. The Doctor was terrified that he was doing the wrong thing, even as he stood at the TARDIS console, setting coordinates for a particular planet. Not the safest planet he knew - far from it - but the inhabitants were of a fighting breed and Sophia would be safe enough there. For the time being. Time enough to grow up, he hoped. Perhaps when she was older she could travel with him, so he could keep a proper eye on her.
Sophia complained at the rough landing and asked the Doctor why he didn't have a proper spaceship. He didn't reply. "Doctor!" she cried indignantly, "Why do you fly around in a box?" She was getting frustrated. A small jar containing screws and bits of wire suddenly flew off the table and shattered with an ear piercing crash. The Doctor looked up in shock.
"I didn't think you could do that until you were in your teens!" he exclaimed.
Sophia looked disdainfully at the mess on the floor. "I've always been able to do that," she said, puzzled.
"Ok." More worry abounded in the Doctor's mind. "Are you able to control it?"
"Most of the time I can," Sophia said proudly.
"Don't do it here. Things like that aren't considered normal on Earth."
"Why?"
"Because...they are a different people, a different culture. Promise me you won't do tricks with your mind, not for anyone, unless I tell you you can. Do you understand?"
Her face fell and she began to sulk, "I suppose..."
The Doctor regarded the precocious youngster for a moment, wondering what he'd let planet Earth in for, and then he picked up her bag and opened the TARDIS doors. "Come on then, if you're ready," he said.
They stepped outside, into cool, early morning. There were few people about, which was a good thing, it ment there was no one to question the TARDIS's prescence. The Doctor led Sophia - whose eyes were almost popping out of her head - and they came to an estate filled with tidy, square houses that were made of red brick. "Am I going to live here?" asked Sophia, looking round her and wrinkling her nose in disgust at the enclosed spaces and neatly mown lawns.
"I'm afraid so," said the Doctor, smiling. It's better than the alternative, he thought. He walked with Sophia to one of the houses - number 142 - and knocked on the door. The middle aged woman who answered the door looked alarmed at first when she saw the Doctor, but she broke into a delighted smile when she saw Sophia.
"Hello," she said to the Doctor, still beaming, "You must be the social worker..."
An hour later, the Doctor strolled back to the TARDIS, still trying to persuade himself that he'd done the right thing in sparing Sophia's life. Not for her - she'd be fine on Earth as long as she kept her powers under control and a secret. But for himself - would he have to pay for this? The Doctor was suddenly jolted from his thoughts by a tiny something bashing into his leg. He looked down and saw a tiny child - little more than a toddler - that had charged into him. She was grinning up at him with a cheeky, winsome expression on her face and had sparkling hazel eyes. "Are you alright?" the Doctor bent down to ruffle the child's blonde hair and then heard a voice from the other side of the road.
"Rose!"
The Doctor looked up in surprise to see a blonde woman in her early 30's rushing across the road the road towards him. He stood up and smiled at her, gesturing to the little girl. "Is this yours?"
"Yes. I'm terribly sorry...she's at that age now where she's into everything."
"That's alright. You just keep an eye on her on the roads ok?"
The woman flushed and took her daughters hand, quietly telling her off for running away. When she looked back up the strange man was walking down the street, away from her. As she watched him, she had an odd premonition. Shuddering, she looked down at her daughter and vowed that she'd never let her out of her sight again - there was too much danger in the world - and she couldn't bear anything to happen to her Rose, especially not after what had happened to her father.
The Doctor hurried back to the TARDIS, unnerved by the rush of déjà vu he had felt after meeting that woman.
Once he was back in the TARDIS. The Doctor set up a complicated sort of telephone system and hooked it up to the TARDIS console. It would allow him to get in touch with one of his other selves. He just hoped that one of them was close to this time zone as the contraption was rather improvised and didn't have a wide range. He needed to look after Sophia and he couldn't do it on his own, He felt the presence of one of his other selves in his mind - the old man, his first incarnation - and the Doctor began to pass on the terrible knowledge of the Time War, and the terrible responsibility of keeping Sophia safe from harm.
When the "conversation" was over the Doctor sank wearily into a velvet covered chair and turned the days events over in his head, while the TARDIS grated on to her next destination: Earth, in the spring of 2005.