Disclaimer: I don't own DW. This is inspired by LicieOIC's 'Written in the Stars', which in turn is based on 'Aida'.

I love ClassicWho, and I love Classic Doctors/Rose even more, so this is a 3rd Doctor (my second favourite, after 4, but no way can I write Tom Baker, he's just too unique for me) and Rose pairing. Plus, I love the UNIT storyline. It makes me happy.

Posted 14-10-2023

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. Not really sure where I'm going with it, but here goes:

Prologue

The Memory of Rose

Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart entered the Doctor's new laboratory with Miss Shaw at his side, the two of them looking around and seeing the Doctor had already begun to arrange things to his tastes. It looked like a mad scientist's lab, unsurprisingly. Despite the many differences between the old Doctor and the new one (and Alistair still didn't understand how that was possible, but his new Scientific Advisor definitely had the intelligence to be the Doctor he'd met), many things remained very much the same, and his clear craziness was most definitely one of those things. One thing about the room, however, came as a surprise.

The Doctor was currently adjusting a large portrait on the wall facing his countertop, where he'd be able to see it when he was working. He stepped away, and the Brigadier was able to see the subject of the picture. It was even more surprising than the presence of the portrait itself.

It showed what was obviously an alien planet, based on red grass, silver trees and two suns. Standing in the forefront was a young woman, barely more than a girl. She had long blonde hair with a delicate curl twisting the strands that was loose around her shoulders and honey brown eyes that sparkled with warmth and kindness. Even from a painting, you could see her good nature. Her clothes were strange, a ragged grey tunic over a torn and dirty white dress, her feet bare. Strangely, there was an odd gold collar around her neck. The painting was so detailed you could practically see the girl breathing.

The Doctor sighed and traced her features, wistful sorrow in his slumped shoulders. "I suppose you're both wondering who she was," he stated, turning to look at them. The Brigadier could see the grief in the other man's toffee-brown eyes, hear it in his voice. It shocked him, but a part of him was reassured to see a sign that the Doctor wasn't so completely alien as he sometimes appeared.

But he was curious.

"Only if you want to tell us," Miss Shaw said quickly, though when he glanced at her Alistair could see the curiosity in her own eyes too.

The Doctor gestured at the stools around the countertop, slumping into one with another sigh. "I trust this story won't be spread around UNIT?" He half-requested, half-stated.

Alistair was a bit offended.

"Of course not, Doctor," the two humans assured him. He nodded slowly, staring into the distance as he spoke.

"Her name was Rose," he said simply. "She was, is, the love of my lives."

Alistair had suspected it, because why else would he put a portrait of her in his lab, especially in such a prominent position? But it was still a shock. Love wasn't something he'd have associated with the older man, but now he saw the Doctor differently. He wasn't incapable of romantic love.

He was already in love, and her death (Alistair assumed) had not been enough to end it.

The soldier and meteorologist remained quiet as the Doctor went on.

"I've never told you why I ran from my planet in the first place, have I? Of course, I haven't. The truth is, I wasn't always the way I am now, a renegade. Once, I was just like the rest of them.

A slave-owner."

Alistair felt his eyes widen in surprise at the words the Doctor spat out with venom and disgust, and he saw Miss Shaw cover her mouth to muffle a sound of shock. The Doctor, a slave-owner? It seemed absurd, but clearly he had been a different man back then.

Perhaps literally.

The Doctor went on, and Alistair suspected he needed to get the story off his chest.

"My people had been doing it for centuries, you see. Kidnapping people from their times and planets and enslaving them. Using them to, for lack of a more delicate word, breed more slaves. A planet in the Gaeas system called Elorth, where the people were peaceful and 'good workers', was a common target for raiding, because they had no defence force to protect them from our cruelty.

Rose was an Elorthian by blood, but she was born into slavery, a slave to the House of Oakdown. Her mother died in childbirth and her father was killed by one of their owners when she was a baby, so she was raised by the slaves of the House too old to work, like all orphans. One of her caretakers was also an Elorthian, who'd been taken in the same raid that captured Rose's parents, and she taught Rose about their heritage, how to rebel in small ways, 'how to be strong while looking weak', as Rose once put it to me.

At any rate, Rose was 'gifted' to me as a 'present' by a former friend of mine, Koschei of House Oakdown, when she was about nineteen," he explained, spitting out the words bitterly, shame blatant on his face and in his body language. "I was the equivalent of twenty-five at the time. And she-she entranced me. I could tell that she wasn't afraid of me, that she was disobeying subtly, and protecting her fellows from my Family, never caring that we could legally kill her without anyone so much as batting an eyelash. At most, my Head of House would be irritated at me wasting money. She was just property in the eyes of my people. And not particularly valuable property either, given her attitude. She often took the blame for different perceived problems, or talked back to a Family member when another slave did something to earn their ire, thereby distracting us and drawing our anger."

A ghost of a smile hovered on his lips at the last bit. He went on quickly.

"Rose was so very fierce. She hated the entire institution of slavery, and she fought against it as best she could. She never backed down from telling me what she thought of me, my House, my people and our actions, no matter what I threatened her with. No matter what I did." Guilt coated his words at the last part and the hint of a smile vanished into a look of shame. "I was a very cruel man back then.

At any rate, eventually her words began to have an effect on me. I looked at myself, and my people, and I hated what I saw. I realized that 'different' didn't mean 'less'. I-well, I fell in love with her. How could I not love her? How could anybody not love her? Rose was fiery, kind, compassionate, fierce, gentle, determined, clever and stubborn. She wasn't perfect, but she was perfect for me."

He fell silent, turning to gaze longingly at the portrait.

"What happened, Doctor?" Miss Shaw asked him gently. Perhaps she too sensed that the Doctor needed to get this story off his chest. Or perhaps she was also wondering grimly what had happened to turn Rose from 'is' to 'was'.

The Doctor sighed yet again. Alistair couldn't remember him ever hearing the alien sigh so much, either version.

"As I said, Rose hated slavery," he told them quietly. "She joined a group similar to Harriet Tubman's Underground Railroad, helping to return slaves to their home planets, if not their native times. And then one day, she was found out. She sacrificed herself so her companions could escape to freedom."

Alistair sucked in a breath, hearing Miss Shaw muffle a gasp behind her hand at the Doctor's revelation.

"There was nothing I could do," the Doctor said defeatedly, turning back to them. His face was almost pleading them to believe him. "I tried to save her, I really did. But I just didn't have the influence needed, and they were determined to make an example of her. All I did was get myself locked up in the cells with her. Though of course, being a Time Lord and a member of a respected and high-ranking lineage protected me. Rose, on the other hand, was just a slave to them. And a rebel slave, to make it worse.

She was," he paused and swallowed, continuing painfully. "She was tortured for names, but as far as I know, the only ones she gave were those who had already escaped the planet and were living under assumed names. Nobody the Time Lords would be able to get at. Then...

She was executed," he stated, the agony and grief he felt unmistakable even to the blind, deaf and mute.

"In public, and painfully. It was the worst day of my life, seeing it happen and being helpless to prevent it. Though, knowing her, she'd have considered the consequences worth the cost."

"What were the consequences?" Alistair couldn't stop himself from asking when the Doctor fell quiet.

The white-haired man gave a thin, bitter smile.

"By then, the slaves, plus what you would consider the peasants of Gallifrey, who were treated only slightly better and many of whom had joined the Underground, outnumbered the Time Lords by quite a significant amount. Nor was I the only one of my people who had come to hate slavery. Rose's, torture, and her cruel death, was the final straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak.

It triggered a revolution, and the pro-slavery and interference government was overthrown, replaced by one led by Lady Thalia, who was a leader of the anti-slavery movement. They did an overhaul of everything, sent the slaves to planets and times of their choice, gave more rights to the common-born Gallifreyans, and implemented a strict no-interference policy.

But I couldn't stand to stay there, on the planet where Rose had suffered and been murdered, so I decided to take the TARDIS and leave. I managed to escape in the chaos of the uprising, took the TARDIS and left only two days after she- was gone. And I swore to do what she no longer could and stand up for those who can't stand up for themselves. To protect the innocent the way she used to and to look for her."

Alistair started at the last bit. "What do you mean?" The Brigadier wondered in confusion. Miss Shaw was also blatantly confused, which was a relief to the Brigadier. If she too was puzzled, it was most definitely not a stupid question.

The Doctor started, and Alistair wondered if the last bit had been a quiet thought spoken aloud. "Ah, I didn't explain that, did I?" He murmured to himself. "You see, the Elorthians, while very similar to humans in many ways, are not, in fact, human. They are empathetic and, more than that, they have a special ability.

They can reincarnate."

"Reincarnation isn't real!" Miss Shaw exclaimed. Alistair too was startled, but his experiences had widened his beliefs, and there were documented cases of people remembering past lives. The Dalai Lama was the first that leapt to mind.

That was just what the Doctor was currently pointing out. "Even humans have been known to reincarnate," he reminded his assistant. "Many religions, Buddhism being the first to spring to mind, mention it. There's a reason for that you know. And Elorthians are not the only species that can all do it."

"Do you have a way to find her?" Alistair interrupted, before the pair could get into a proper argument about it. Let them do that when he wasn't in the room.

The Doctor sighed, turning downcast again. "No," he admitted, before his features hardened into determination. "But I will. No matter how long it takes, no matter how many lives, I will find her again."